#the hipster bat boy

[violettssims]

The eastern suburbs of Newport where "all the hipsters live" (according to Christian) The streets are a little grungy and you'll get a whiff of rotten trash on every corner but it's home to the best coffee in the city, a vibrant mix of culture and many, many neighbourhood (or perhaps just lost) cats.

[britcision]

Today’s is a little shorter but I think you’ll all forgive me as we dive into… The Inevitable Rogue Attack 😈

It fucking kills me how many people are almost sympathising with Vlad but want Bruce to catch fire, y’all are giving me life and don’t worry, Bruce will not be getting away with his crimes

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Tag list: @welcometosasakiworld @kyrianclawraith @someonebored0100 @stealingyourbones @starkcravingmad @frostedthroughghost @akikoyuii @rainbowbunny0159 @littlefeather345 @violet-catsarelife @serasvictoria02 @wolfjackle @blacksea21090 @secretdestinywerewolf @anime-hipster-the-amazing @undead-essence @skitscratched @blackroserelina @snoodly-boop @trickerdi @mayoota-blog @xysidhe @idkmrpianoman @little-apricot-the-writer @chaoticmistake @the-legal-shipper @bun-fish @aroranorth-west @demon-cat-goes-woof @eonic @onyxlightdragon @larks-and-katydids @peachesandcreamfemboy @jesus-camp-the-sequel @may-rbi @arandomturd @viyatrix @stargirl1331

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The Inevitable Rogue Attack

His kids were rioting. There were giggles, muffled screams, Steph was drumming her hands on the table hard enough to shake the place settings.

And Jason… Jason.

Bruce wasn’t quite sure what to do as Jason made his way back down to his seat, passing behind all three Amity Parkers to get there.

He’d hoped… well. He hoped Jason had understood his meaning. He hadn’t expected the boy to blanche like that, and he’d worried for a second that he’d misjudged.

But no, the smile Jason gave him on the stage was real. Bruce knew every detail of his son’s face, had worked doubly hard to be able to read those expressions when Jason had come back unfamiliar and grown.

There was something he’d missed. Obviously.

But he didn’t know what. Didn’t know what he had expected Jason to do, now that it came down to it. Bruce hadn’t said what he did thinking about Jason’s response.

He didn’t need him to respond at all, he just… he wanted Jason to know he cared. To be sure that Bruce loved him. That Bruce wanted him back.

That he would never be sorry enough for how his mistakes had cost Jason everything. Surely promising that before so many witnesses, so many people would show he meant it?

They’d need to talk. They would always need to talk. And perhaps Jason would talk to Alfred too, and Bruce could ask what he’d done wrong.

He hadn’t expected Jason to fall sobbing into his arms. But the way he’d paled, Bruce’s stomach had dropped like a stone.

Was it really such a surprise to hear him say sorry? Such a shock? Had he failed that much?

Making his way back to his own table, he let his gaze drift from Jason and land on the Manson girl. He was a little surprised to find that she was staring straight back at him, despite the chaos at her table.

Shouldn’t she be focused on Jason? He had just rather publicly expressed his affections, even if he’d been circumspect.

Bruce would have thought she was watching him for his response to that, except that he’d seen Damian look at dogfight ring owners with a warmer expression.

Even as their eyes met, he saw her hand scrabbling side ways, snatching at cutlery and then Danny grabbed it and wrestled it back to the table.

She’d grabbed a knife. He’d have been satisfied in his assessments of her being correct, but who the fuck was Jason hanging out with?

He made it back to his seat, looked over, and she was still watching him. Narrow purple eyes tracking him like she was waiting to pounce.

He’d been stared at at every gala since he was a child.

He’d stared down villains planning to cube him with lasers, while tied to their tables.

Samantha Manson was activating his bat senses. No wonder Jason liked her so much.

Perhaps the Mansons hadn’t been exaggerating the situation… but that still left the question of Danny. The “very important” relationship that Jason claimed was helping the pit.

Danny was supposedly here as Sam’s date too. Could it be an open relationship? Or had Sam and Jason not yet realised he was involved with them both?

Selina’s intel suggested the former, but Bruce would have to observe them more closely to determine which it was. And then there was Tucker Foley…

Tucker had been spending more time with Tim than the other three. Bruce would be relying on him for a debrief later, and his impressions of Masters.

The rest of his children had clearly met Danny as well, and he wished he could have taken at least one of them aside for a report before dinner.

As it was, he likely wouldn’t be able to talk to them until they got home. Perhaps Damian might be persuaded to take a brief break from the rest of the room…

Though his youngest did hate to miss the action. Especially if he perceived something important to be going on, and from the set of his shoulders, he did.

His tension did absolutely nothing to soothe Bruce’s own worries. Nor did reminding himself that Damian may be upset by almost anything.

Damian may still struggle socially, but he was perceptive and excellent at threat assessing. If he was tense, there was a reason.

He was so focused on his childrens’ table that he didn’t even notice Selina on her phone beside him.

**

Jason slipped back into his seat, feeling much better than he had leaving it. Who knew that getting a little fuckery in would settle him so much?

Well, anyone who’d met him. But other than that.

Dick leaned in before his ass hit the chair, both arms outstretched as if to cradle Jason in them.

“You fucking madlad,” he gasped, eyes bright with laughter and Jason rolled his eyes, grinning even as he slapped Dick’s hands away.

“What, it’s not like you’ve not done worse,” he said off handedly, settling himself in.

Steph was still drumming on the table, finishing up an epic solo by snatching up her knife and tinging it off her glass.

“And that’s the new high to beat on Bruce’s blood pressure chart, ladies and gentlemen, likely possible only through grand larceny!” She declared emphatically, tossing her knife back down.

And apparently inspiring Sam, whose eyes narrowed, still tracking Bruce as she grabbed at the table beside her. Danny, already on guard, leaned away a little.

“Sam, what are you… no Sam no!” He snatched at her arm just as she grabbed his steak knife, pulling it back to the table.

Steph’s brows rose, Dick leaned back a little, and Jason couldn’t stop himself from laughing.

“You can’t stab a man at a gala, Damian’s already tried,” Tim put in with a slightly nervous chuckle.

They all seemed to think she’d go for it. Jason, only knowing her slightly longer, was completely sure she’d go for it.

He let his hand fall to cover hers and Danny’s too, squeezing softly. He kinda appreciated having a friend who’d kill for him.

“Not that I don’t appreciate the offer, but if Bruce dies tonight Tim inherits a lot more paperwork and he already doesn’t sleep,” he said casually, and Sam’s gaze snapped back to him.

Her eyes narrowed further for a moment and then she huffed, dropping the knife and sinking back in her seat. And still glaring at Bruce over at his table.

“It doesn’t have to be a lethal stabbing,” she pointed out coolly, glaring at her own utensils. Vegetarian options did not usually require steak knives.

A happy coincidence that it kept the sharp knives away from Damian too, really. He had switched from glaring at Danny to glaring at Sam assessingly.

Whatever conclusions he drew, they didn’t come before the waiters arrived, hot food still under cloches.

The table fell quiet for a moment as plates were handed out, and then food inspected. The dining room filled with the clink of cutlery and muted conversation.

Jason’s little stunt was definitely still causing ripples, and he felt a definite self satisfaction grow through him. Fuck Bruce and his surprises.

It was Tucker who brought the conversation back, clearing his throat while the others focused on food.

“So, Sam… on a scale from 0 to public proposals, where does Jason’s little kiss stand?” He asked slyly, waggling his eyebrows from his spot a whole Danny away.

Sam’s glare indicated that might not be far enough. Then she snickered and returned to her plate.

“Zero. We planned to fuck with their heads and we both know what it means, right Jason?” She asked, cocking a brow at the taller man.

Jason shrugged cheerfully, enjoying the way every siblings’ eyes narrowed at her lack of specificity. They weren’t off the fuckery list yet, knowing about Val or not.

“Exactly. Glad you agree though, I wasn’t sure if I should apologise. We didn’t exactly talk about that,” he added when she made a small questioning noise.

Sam shrugged, waving her decidedly blunt knife with mild disdain.

“You’re good. We’re on the same page, I don’t give a shit what anyone here thinks, and it’s gonna make the big explosion all the better.” She sounded distinctly satisfied with this turn of events, so Tucker raised his hands, surrendering.

Dick chuckled softly, shaking his head and digging into his food.

“Not to defend Bruce, but I don’t think he’s emotionally intelligent enough to try and corner Jason into a response,” he pointed out cheerfully and Jason snorted a laugh.

Which became a full laugh when Sam didn’t even glance over.

“Cop opinion, nobody asked.”

Dick pouted and Steph laughed at him, leaning in to continue either the conversation or the bullying. Jason wasn’t quite sure which, because Cass captured his attention with a gentle hand on his arm.

Glancing her way, she gave him a soft smile and signed,

‘Are you okay?’

And yeah. Without the pit’s biting green haze, Jason was a massive fucking sap, apparently. Or Bruce had shaken him more than he thought.

He managed a smile that wasn’t too shaky, signing quickly back.

‘I’m good.’ Not that he need bother, since Cass looked entirely unconvinced.

She didn’t call him on it though, slipping her hand into his and squeezing gently. And that was one of his favourite things about Cass.

Like most of the bats, she never really talked about shit, but in her case? It was often because she didn’t need to. She understood without needing him to find the right words.

Maybe that was why the whole ghost-emotional-language thing wasn’t freaking him out the way it probably should.

Maybe Cass was also part ghost. She’d died before.

And that was something he’d have to ask Danny about. He’d mentioned a “ghost sense” that he and Vlad could use to find each other.

Jason’s almost certainly wasn’t fully developed, just like his core, because to hear Danny tell it he could detect any ghost within a city block. Sometimes further.

Jason’d felt Vlad’s proximity like a chill down his spine right before he walked up so there was definitely something there. Hopefully it’d get stronger with time.

He’d rather have some actual warning before a threat got close, although now that he thought about it…

It had taken until tonight for Jason to really understand that the sense of peace which had washed over him at the graveyard and the coffee shop had been directly caused by Danny’s presence.

That had come long before Danny had been in eyeshot, both times. Maybe tonight Danny’s presence had overwhelmed him, masking Vlad until it was too late?

Or Danny’s was just that much bigger. Either way, Jason wasn’t fully sure it was the same sensation. Part of the same sense.

Vlad’s presence was an icy oil sliming down his back, but Danny’s was all warmth and peace. Could that make sense for a guy with an ice core? Or was there something else?

Part of it was the way the pit quieted, there was still an almost euphoric bliss that came with the lack of bubbling rage. In not being constantly at war inside his head.

Being able to fucking hear himself think. Fuck, the fact that it still felt like a luxury was damn depressing. The idea that one day it might be his normal again…

But it hadn’t been long enough since he’d seen Danny to just be that tonight. The pit had been building, but he’d spent the afternoon hanging out with Frostbite’s plant.

It had been ignorable. As normal as he’d been in the last year. And he’d still felt that warm rush as Danny came down the stairs. The second he saw him things fell into place.

That was probably the ghost sense. And maybe a bit of what Clockwork had told him about being the Fright Knight.

The ghost had said he’d always know if Danny was in danger, so it made sense that being able to see Danny and know he wasn’t in danger would feel good. He was doing his duty.

Definitely all that was.

By the time he’d tuned back into the main conversation, they’d moved back to the inevitable rogue attack. Currently? Betting on who it’d be.

“I could go for a Riddler attack,” Steph mused, waving a forkful of potatoes vaguely. “At least he’d know some riddles to keep us busy til the bats arrive.”

“Yeah, cause he totally cares about entertaining his hostages,” Tim snickered and shook his head. “Riddler’s on the run. Red Robin and Nightwing caught him shipping something explosive into the city. WE did the tech analysis,” he added for their guests.

None of whom looked surprised, which was interesting. Tucker seemed interested, but not concerned.

“Oh, did you get to have a look? I’m not much of a hardware guy beyond this beauty,” he said with a loving look to his PDA, then back to Tim.

Who shrugged.

“Personally? No, but I okayed the lab time and bumped them on the priority list. Some of them were a little close to one of our offices.”

“Risks of working in Gotham,” Dick agreed with a sigh, and this time he even filled in the next part himself, “despite if not because of the presence of the police.” He raised his glass to the table.

Steph and Cass cheered, Cass silently, and even Sam snickered. Cass took the next step though, shifting a little back up the curve of the table so they could all see her hands again.

‘Have not seen Poison Ivy in a while. Never met her.’

Sam sighed at that, raising her glass with a dry smile.

“And you won’t, at least tonight. If there was even a small chance she’d be in Gotham, I wouldn’t be,” she added to the Wayne brood, all of whom looked curious.

Jason could guess.

“Are your folks particularly worried about her?” Dick asked, glancing around for the older Mansons. Sam snorted a laugh but let Danny answer.

“Worried that given half a chance Sam will run away and join her. They’re both what you’d call “aggressive environmentalists”,” he added with air quotes.

Tim cocked a brow, grinning.

“That’s a funny way of spelling “ecoterrorists”,” he pointed out lightly, leaning in. “So how do they know she won’t come? She was in Gotham last I heard.”

Sam hesitated for a moment, glancing around as if checking for eavesdroppers. None too close to their table; Jason had made it a condition that they not be near enough to talk to any others.

Then she leaned in, the entire table following suit. Danny and Tucker seemed equally curious, which was interesting.

“I’m not supposed to know this, and you can’t tell anyone, alright?” She hissed, and the Gothamites nodded along like each and every one of them weren’t about to run the Mansons down for supervillain connections.

Jason tried not to smirk.

Sam met each of their eyes, then continued, her voice low.

“So Tuck, Danny and I knew Vlad was coming to Gotham. I ran an Ivy check to see if my parents would let me come too, so we could keep an eye on him. And my grandma caught me.”

Tucker and Danny leaned back like this explained everything, eyes wide. Steph leaned in further, half out of her chair.

“What did she do?” She whispered.

Sam grinned.

“She recognised her. She was an activist herself when she was younger, really big on the environmental scene…”

“Ida Manson?” Damian asked sharply, head snapping up. Of course he’d know the most about the old environmentalist circles.

Sam looked mildly surprised but nodded.

“That’s her. She was an “anonymous donor” to Ivy a couple different times and obviously she knows about my parents. So she sent her two hundred grand and schematics to a construction company’s HQ that are bulldozing the Amazon.”

“Are your family all connected to supervillains?” Tim asked, fighting a smile. Sam cocked a brow at him.

“Other than being millionaires? Not really beyond voting for Vlad. Mom and Dad are big in the whole “respectability” thing, they wanna keep the family name as clean as possible.”

“And they don’t get much chance in Amity Park,” Tucker added with a snicker, “our villains aren’t really the kind you can buy.”

Sam hummed an affirmation and Danny made a face. He didn’t want anyone looking too closely into what had happened in Amity Park, but Jason figured it was inevitable.

About time Batman found out what he’d been missing.

All of his siblings looked thoroughly confused now, but Dick voiced the question.

“You guys have villains in Amity Park? More than just Vlad?” He asked carefully, sounding every inch the concerned civilian.

Sam rolled her eyes and laughed, setting down her cutlery.

“Not anymore,” she said dryly, reaching for her drink and raising it in a mock toast. Tucker and Danny copied, clinking their glasses together.

This did not illuminate the others. Or Jason, honestly. He’d seen the database, knew the basics, and knew that with Danny as the next Ghost King, his rogues were out of the picture.

He’d figured out that those dud calls from Amity Park? Never actually duds.

Danny had never asked if he knew about any of them as Robin, from that overlapping year between their deaths. Jason still wasn’t sure what to say if it came up again.

He took part in a confused look exchange with Tim, Dick, and Steph, shrugging to indicate that this really wasn’t something he was already in on. Half true.

Damian broke the short silence this time, glowering at all three.

“What villains are you speaking of? And what happened to them?” He asked curtly, his tone easily carrying his disbelief.

Jason’s eyes moved automatically to Sam, but it was Tucker who fielded this one with a casual shrug.

“Ghosts. We got a portal to the Ghost Zone, lot of ghosts decided they wanted to try and take down the town, and one became our local hero to stop the rest,” he explained like he was talking about mildly unseasonal weather.

Tim suddenly looked much less enamoured with his new bestie. Much more wary and confused.

“You… you’re kidding, right?” He asked half hopefully, and yeah, that woulda been Jason’s response a week ago too.

Today, he snickered and waved a two finger salute at his brother.

“Bud. Sat at a table with a literal zombie,” he added when Tim’s head snapped around. “This is so far from the weirdest shit you’ve heard.”

Tim coloured and huffed, puffing up in his seat.

“Yeah, but seriously Jason? Ghosts? Trying to take over an entire town? Someone must have heard something!”

“We sure tried telling them,” Danny agreed cheerfully, clearing his plate with untroubled enthusiasm. “The town got sucked fully into the Ghost Zone once, we only survived because my family made ghost shields.”

It wasn’t just Tim now, half the table looked utterly poleaxed. The only bat not blankly gaping was Cass, when Jason glanced back at her. And slowly, so did the others.

Cass was watching Danny thoughtfully, brows furrowed just the tiniest bit. Then she gave a small nod.

‘Truth,’ she agreed, and Tim exploded.

“What? No way! A whole American city can’t just pop off the map and not be noticed! Someone would have to know?” He sputtered.

Tucker gave him a sympathetic pat on the hand.

“Hey, don’t feel bad. The federal government invented a whole new department just to keep news from getting out. They’re pretty good too,” he added with a grimace.

Tim gaped at him. Dick, suddenly all business, leaned in with a frown.

“A secret government department dedicated to hiding ghosts?” He asked, and yeah, Jason remembered this from the database.

Seemed that with Cass’s clear, Dick was gonna take this seriously. That was… a little refreshing.

Sam gave him a scathing once over, but clearly decided that bullying hours were on hold.

“They’re technically called the Ghost Investigation Ward. Don’t google it or some extremely unpleasant men in white suits will come along to ask why.”

“If we can’t google it, how do we know you’re telling the truth?” Steph asked, her demeanour equally serious.

The three Amity Parkers exchanged thoughtful looks, then Tucker shrugged and scooted his PDA down the table.

“You can look it up on mine. I’ve cracked their systems before, they can’t backhack me,” he explained when Tim nearly jumped on the device.

A small smile broke through Dick’s serious face as Tim got to work, Steph leaning in.

“Seriously, I know I’m only a cop in Bludhaven, but you guys really like admitting to federal crimes,” he said lightly, driving a steep wedge into the rising tension.

Jason snickered along with Danny and Tucker, nodding to Tim.

“You say, like Tim isn’t probably committing the actual same crime two seats down,” he remarked and Dick actually grinned, waggling his eyebrows.

“Hey, if he wants to borrow my handcuffs he can just ask, but the work ones aren’t for fun stuff.”

Tim flipped him off without looking as Tucker choked, suddenly very interested in his mostly empty plate. Then Tim looked up, expression grave.

“He’s not kidding. They’re syphoning a ton of federal funding, most of it into Amity Park,” he declared and Tucker leaned in to swipe at the screen.

“Non-Amity Park IPs can’t access any of our weather or news stations either,” he explained casually, like they weren’t uncovering a major scandal.

But then, Jason reminded himself, no one had done anything about this for around six years. Why would that change now?

Steph snagged the PDA this time, scrolling down a couple times then stopping to frown at Danny.

“Why does the weather station have something called Fenton Watch?” She asked and Danny groaned, cheeks flushing.

“Thaaaaat reports if my parents are gonna be on the roads… their bad driving is kinda legendary?” He offered sheepishly as Tucker snickered.

“It’s for the definitely-not-street-legal tank I told you about,” he added for Tim alone.

Before any of the others could jump on that juicy sentence a slender hand landed on Jason’s shoulder.

“Well don’t you all seem to be having fun?” Selina purred, smiling down at the table before leaning in. “I just thought I’d drop by and let you know, darling, I’ve already texted Aunt Harley about Bruce’s little stunt.”

She dropped a gentle kiss on the top of Jason’s head, which was fucking weird but… in a good way, patted his shoulder and moved on.

How the fuck had the pit ever convinced Jason that no one cared about him? Although to be fair, there had been a lot less open affection when people still thought he’d shoot them.

It was just a revelation every time, finally getting to look at these litte gestures, these people as just himself. Less bitter, less angry, less certain it was a lie or a trap.

Part of him didn’t want to lose the way it sent soft curls of affection through all the places anger used to burn. Didn’t want to take any of this for granted.

It had been so, so long since he’d felt like he was actually loved. Before his death even. Fuck, it was something he hadn’t had for most of his life.

It was completely different from just knowing.

He’d known Alfred loved him. Known Dick cared, the way he’d thrown himself headlong into bringing Jason home, no matter how many times he nearly got shot.

Knew Cass and Duke both cared without even the shadow of his death between them. But actually feeling it, warm and golden in his chest?

He hadn’t made it easy for any of them. Had fought against even wanting it for so long, sure he didn’t deserve it. Sure he couldn’t have it, so wanting it would only break him.

But here it was. Even Selina standing up to fight his corner, by using Harley as a weapon if needed.

Harley was probably banned by the Geneva Convention so he wouldn’t hold it against her to keep her own claws clean.

He just. His family cared. Even if all that was hurt was his feelings. That was enough for them to even go against Bruce.

(And fuck he knew how stupid that thought was, each new generation of Robins seemed more likely than the last to call B on his shit.

Damian might be slightly less likely than Steph to say the words “go fuck yourself” but he got the sentiment across.

Jason had called B to task plenty of times when he was being an ass to one of them. It just hit different when it was the other way round.)

Dick and Steph were back on their gleeful bullshit, grinning broadly at Jason even as he had his little moment. He wasn’t even gonna look at the rest of the table.

“Someone’s in trouble,” Steph sang happily, dancing in her seat and beaming across the hall at Bruce.

Sam frowned and looked around the table, the full complement of Waynes all grinning broadly bar one. Damian still mostly looked annoyed by the whole affair.

Which was basically how he smiled anyway.

“Wait, did she just say Harley? Like Harley Quinn?” She asked and yeah, oops, they did have a lot to catch each other up on.

Not today though.

“Pretty sure she’s Harley like the motorcycle,” Tim explained off handedly, shooting his own grin in Bruce’s direction, “you’re never allowed to tell her I said it but she’s a little too old to be called Harley like Harley Quinn.”

Didn’t exactly answer the question, but sounded enough like an answer that it seemed to pass. Jason was a little impressed.

“The effect will be about the same though,” Dick added with a snicker, arm cocked on the back of his chair to grin across at Bruce.

Fuck, had the old man been staring at them this whole time? Delightful. Jason very deliberately Did Not look over, finishing his own meal.

**

The rest of dinner was more reserved, the bats taking Selina’s intervention as a sign to let the heavy stuff drop. Might as well wait until they could do some more research.

The Amity Parkers followed suit and Cass settled, enjoying the time with her family. Teasing Dick, laughing with Steph, and Jason.

She could still see the tension in him, the same as Jason had always had, for as long as she’d known him. Could almost feel the pieces of him that twanged with every move.

She had never seen him seem so… free. He’d been getting better, letting her and Duke and Steph persuade them he was still family. That he was wanted.

It had made parts of the tension worse, and he’d carried himself every day with the fear that he’d hurt them. That they’d change their minds.

She still felt the same fear, sometimes. Knew there was nothing to be done for it but wait for him to come back, hold him close, and not let him push her away.

Because Jason could hurt them. Any of the bats could do serious damage, but most of them not by accident.

Jason lived every day with a weight around his neck, chained to the knowledge that all it’d take was one surge of the pit.

One break in his control and he might hurt one of them in ways nobody could fix.

Cass couldn’t imagine living with that kind of weight. She’d known she was a weapon, raised and trained to violence so she could be pointed and released.

Her father had never understood that she was still the one in control, not him. That she’d obeyed because she chose to, because she loved him, because she craved affection.

That she could walk away as easily as she had, find another family who would love her, and understand that there were… gaps inside her.

Places where she still didn’t know what fit. What to do, what to say when things were hard and her throat got tight. What to do when she messed up and hurt someone.

But at least she knew it would only be her words. Her actions. The hurt she made might be deeper for it and she was still so scared it might one day be too much, but…

She’d never see their blood on her hands.

Jason still did, sometimes. She’d see it when he looked at Tim and his throat closed up. When he stopped breathing for way too long.

When they’d all be teasing him, watching closely, weighing the green in his eyes, and he’d go to snap back at Tim and bite his tongue so hard it bled.

Cass hadn’t been there. Hadn’t seen how bad it had gotten, when Jason first came back. And maybe that was a blessing because she couldn’t have fought him.

Seeing the pain that still wound through him was enough to choke her. Seeing it then, when Bruce refused to believe it was him, Tim’s throat in his hand?

When the pit had his ear, all rage and hate and betrayal?

Her family had nearly broken before she got back. There had nearly been nothing for her to return to.

Instead, she’d come back to a stalemate. Jason’s rage tempered, forced solely onto Bruce while he fought himself to keep the rest of them out of it.

To a new brother, if one who demanded they stay out of his side of the city, who’d fire a shot if they broke his rules.

And maybe it was the same fear, that looming dread that one day she’d hurt them too that had pulled her to him. To reassure herself that even with all he’d done, Jason was still there.

To reassure Jason that there was nothing he could do to lose his family. If they could accept her, gaps and all, they would find space for him.

Maybe it was their shared time with the league, finally free enough to exchange what words they had.

Cass could read anyone. Oh, it wasn’t a science; body language was an art, every subtle twitch and motion possibly meaning a million things, different to each individual.

It took a little time to work out anything beyond the broad strokes, to observe and understand what each person meant by the smaller gestures.

Pain was easy. Physical or emotional, it did a couple things every time. Tension, aggression, training. The things she’d needed when violence was her only language.

Happiness was harder. Worry, stress, the things behind those were still tricky for her to nose out, but she was learning when to push and when not to.

She didn’t always know why, but that was what her words were for.

Jason hadn’t taken any time at all. He’d been as trained by Bruce as any of them, gone through all the rigorous exercises to control himself, hide any traces of emotion if needed.

Cass could never fully put her finger on why it just… didn’t work. Jason could do a poker face better than anyone she knew. Could lock every muscle, go still as stone.

He’d never have survived the league if he couldn’t. And yet she’d just look at him even when the pit wasn’t in control, when rage hadn’t stripped him back to nothing at all, and it was just…

Written all over him. Every worry, every stress, every half smothered moment of hope. She’d taken one look at him in the league and Known him.

It felt like he knew her too, in ways that no one but Damian got close to. Knew the weight of her past, the weight of her mistakes, and how much it burdened her.

He’d come back on the 25th changed, happy in a gentle way, the barest lines of pit rage left. And then the day after Danger Twink there he was again; moving light as air with that choking tension gone.

The longer she saw him with Danny, the more certain she was.

Jason had never been in less danger in his life. Danny had that same air of death, but he was also more alive than anyone she’d ever seen.

And he’d give his right arm if it kept the people around him safe.

It was kind of funny, really. Just like Jason, Danny was surprisingly easy to read.

Oh, young people tended to telegraph more, their emotions writ loud, and she had a good read on Sam and Tucker already. But just like Jason, there was no element of guesswork with Danny.

She didn’t have to wait and keep watching or check her results. It was just… obvious. Heart on his sleeve, even when they talked about the dangers of home.

She could almost feel his curiosity lapping at the edge of her awareness as desserts were brought out, even without looking at him.

She kept to the curved end of the table though, so the rest of them could see her more easily. It still felt… strange doing that. Making herself noticeable.

Even as she’d gotten used to talking, with her hands or with her mouth, she still had trouble with the idea of standing out. Making herself noticeable.

And of course at galas, she usually didn’t even let on she could sign. It was possible that game was up, but anyone else who knew sign was probably less likely to be an ass about her needing it.

But her family wanted to know what she had to say. Valued her input, even for unimportant things. And if Jason had to practice letting them love him, she had to practice letting them hear her.

Metaphorically, sometimes. They didn’t seem to mind.

And she was having more fun than she’d expected tonight. She enjoyed recon, gathering information, but she was enjoying just talking to Sam and Danny too.

They fit with Tucker the way Tim fit with his Young Justice friends. Confident, sure of themselves and their connection.

She’d like to see them in action, although probably not tonight. Not everyone brought their heroing gear to fancy parties. Although most people did in Gotham.

Tonight’s event had been quiet so far if Vlad didn’t count.

It wasn’t destined to last.

The dining hall had mostly emptied out, the party moving back into the main hallways when a dozen windows shattered.

Guests didn’t so much scream as gasp in surprise, although one young woman sounded distinctly angry as a spray of glass splashed into her new drink.

Cass still wasn’t sure she approved of the hall’s sugar-glass as opposed to bulletproof strategy, but she could appreciate the effect.

Just like the movies, the crash and scatter were very impressive, with very little chance of actually hurting anyone.

Personally Cass thought a few more rogues could do with slamming face first into bulletproof glass.

It might not deter the attacks, but it’d either dampen the enthusiasm or bring out the bazookas. Either way, heavier weapons came off the streets.

She was a little surprised to see Killer Croc bursting through the large double doors though. Not quite enough to pause on her way to a dark corner, but she noted it.

He usually preferred to stick to overt mobsters rather than dirty his teeth on Gotham’s elite. Luckily, he wasn’t the type to leave anyone guessing.

“Where the fuck is Harvey Dent?” He roared, grabbing an attendant by the throat and lifting him off the ground.

Cass’s eyes scanned the room, taking in the number of assailants, the question marks on their suits. Riddler must not have been as down as Tim assumed, and that could be bad news.

On the other hand, if Riddler was here they’d know by now.

She’d lost most of the others when the crowd surged together, contracting, and finally reached up to push a comm into her ear. Heard Sam yell in the background.

“CASS!”

And felt her chest compress for just a moment.

She’d seen Sam Manson at galas before, two or maybe even three times. She’d always seemed annoyed, resentful, angry underneath that pretty smile.

They’d exchanged nods. Waves. Nothing that should have Sam screaming for her when trouble finally broke.

Then there were other screams, and Cass has to fight a smile. No, Sam wasn’t scared for her. Sam sounded absolutely fucking furious.

Her parents must have been right to worry too, because from the sound of it she’d taken it out on whichever unfortunate body Cass had used to slip away.

She’d have felt bad if she was less certain Sam would have loved to deck anyone at the gala anyway. It was a little sweet that she’d been clocked as a civilian.

Someone to protect. That might be nice one day.

Sam was still swearing to beat the band, audible even as the goons tried to gather the fragmenting crowd together.

Cass skidded under a refreshment table, comm in her ear coming to life.

“Report.” Bruce. Not doing the Batvoice, so somewhere in the pile. Possibly intentionally, if Croc was after Dent.

“Out,” she hissed, sticking to the edges of the room as she let her suit blend her into the shadows. Much easier than dresses, whatever Steph said.

“Out,” came Tim’s voice, sounding a little rushed. Sloppy.

“Out,” Steph called, and Cass was a little surprised at that. The other girl had been close to their civilians too, and she hadn’t thought they’d both make it undetected.

“In,” Dick whispered, voice barely audible. But Cass could hear Sam still yelling when his comm picked up, “With Manson, lost Hood.”

So. Not as undetected as all that.

“Out,” Damian huffed, sounding thoroughly annoyed with all of them. More so a moment later when Cass slipped into the same shadow. “Amateurs.”

Jason just grunted, obviously not in a position to subvocalise. Obviously still in.

A bare second for analysis, then-

“Nightwing. Leave your civilian with Hood and extract. Hood, remain engaged. Eyes on Jason Todd-Wayne.”

Which, to a listening stranger, would sound like a protection order instead of what it was; a reminder that Jason in particular was being watched.

Jason couldn’t have put a more articulate “fuck you” into the words themselves as he grunted again, still deep in the crowd.

Poor Jason. He always hated being the one to be rescued.

Too bad for him Cass quite liked the chance to do it. Red Hood was just so big and tanky, everyone expected him to come charging to the rescue.

Swooping in to save his day was extra fun because of that. He couldn’t even hide his pout behind his helmet in civilian clothes.

Cass and Damian made their way to the back rooms, dodging goons who must have come in through the windows here.

They were still sweeping the halls, grabbing any guests who’d managed to get out of the main halls and muscling them back in.

It was easy for the bats to duck into one of the cleared rooms. Both shucked their suits to reveal their night gear, Damian pulling his cape and domino from a concealed wall safe.

Cass just needed her mask, which fit inside her Black Bat suit pocket beneath the main suit. She wasn’t surprised Damian had been layering too.

Most of the bats did, or at least kept a domino on them for plausible deniability. After all, it wasn’t called the surprising or unexpected rogue attack.

Both now fully suited up, Cass and Damian exchanged looks.

‘Ready?’ Cass asked, and Damian tutted.

“Fenton is a meta,” he reaffirmed, eyes narrowing behind him domino. Cass ruffled his hair and headed for the door.

“Agree,” she reassured him softly, and felt him startle. Poor kid. Damian had plenty of his own issues around being heard. Belonging. “Best not out.”

His brows furrowed and he rolled his arms, but followed.

“Todd needs to know what he’s dealing with,” he grumbled as they listened at the door.

Cass kinda wished she’d left a mouth on her mask, but the reasons not to had outweighed letting the others see her smile. They could usually tell anyway.

“Disappeared together,” she reminded Damian softly instead, attention now split to the hall outside. Things were quieting down.

Damian’s pout grew more pronounced, then he shook himself and refocused.

“Perhaps we will see what he is made of now,” he mused under his breath.

Cass considered reminding him that it might not be safe for Danny to use whatever meta abilities he had, but decided not to. After all, her family more than proved that there were people out there who didn’t much care for “safe”.

It was also their job to make sure no one else had to put themselves in harm’s way. Even if they were curious.

Pushing out into the hall, she and Robin took the high road.

**

Still buried in the middle of the crowd, Dick kept a hand on Sam’s shoulder as they were buffeted around. Keeping them together, as close as they could.

He might have worried about doing it except that she, clearly also used to rogue attacks and crowd control, had wrapped his tie around her fist like she had him on a leash.

Yeah, he kinda fucking loved Sam Manson. Perfect little sister vibes.

He’d managed to get his earpiece in undetected, taking advantage of her telling off some unfortunate soul who’d cut between her and Cass.

They were all being herded towards the dining hall again now, surrounded by a circle of goons and prodded as Croc’s yells directed them.

“Everybody shut the fuck up and stick together! We’ll be out of your hair just as soon as we have all your valuables and that little fucker Dent!”

Dick was pretty damn sure he saw the same lady who’d been talking to them when Vlad showed up slip earrings, bracelet, and her fucking phone into that silly fan.

Apparently it wasn’t just a weirdly anachronistic accessory. Good for her.

Through the doors he could see the henchmen beginning to split the crowd into smaller groups, grabbing and pushing and fuck, he’d have to drop Sam off before reaching that.

Luckily he was pretty sure he could already see Jason, and he leaned into Sam’s ear.

“Look, I’ll be able to look for Cass better on my own, they’re splitting us up and I don’t want her on her own. Can I drop you with Jason and the guys? So I can tell Cass you’re okay,” he added quickly when her head snapped round, eyes narrowed.

She studied his expression for a moment then snorted, digging into a very well concealed pocket in her skirt and pulling out what looked a lot like a tiny taser.

He was gonna get Steph the name of her dressmaker. If they didn’t already use the same one.

“Whatever. This’ll help you get through the crowds, I can get to the guys,” she grumbled back, not quite shouting over the noise of the crowd.

Dick gave her his best apologetic grin, and took the taser to see what it’d do. Always nice to see a new toy.

“Cass’ll have my ass if she even thinks I left you with some of these creeps so unless you have-” before he could finish the sentence Sam had already pulled out a second, larger taser.

She gave him the baby one.

Stifling a laugh, he checked on Jason’s position again, noted the three people between them, and gave Sam a gentle nudge in the right direction.

“Alright, alright, you’re clearly more prepared than me, but we’re nearly there so jet.”

Sam gave him a sarcastic half smile, the man behind her jumped about a foot in the air, and Dick flicked his comm.

“Hood, confirm receipt,” he hissed, sticking close until he got another confirming grunt from Jason.

Then he made his way to the edge of the crowd, tucking his shoulders in to shrink his silhouette. A guy couldn’t hang out with Superman and Clark Kent without learning a few things.

It was a little closer than he’d have liked, but he managed to duck into a shadow just before crossing through the dining room doors.

A pair of goons hurried to close the party inside and he hurried to find a good spot to change. And a thought struck him.

“Hey, anyone think it’s too late to page in Signal?”

A series of muffled giggles and gasps came back, mostly muted, and Bruce sighed heavily.

“Fine. Going dark, coordinate yourselves around Red Robin.”

Someone must have decided to fish Bruce Wayne out of the crowd. Hoping Jason wasn’t too close, Dick pulled out his phone and a domino from separate pockets.

Duke might get to meet Danny in person after all. It was only 8pm.

Oh, and there was one more thing.

“Manson gave me a new taser.”

Jealous grumbles filled the air and Dick grinned as he stashed his jacket and tie.

“She also kept a bigger one for herself. We’ve got some spicy civilians today,” he commented cheerfully, testing the weight of the new taser as he moved to the windows.

Very nice, small and sleek and light, in a white and green scifi design. Just the thing some rich society types might give their little girl to keep her safe in Gotham.

Maybe he’d even get a chance to use it; escrima sticks did not fit well under tight trousers. Oh, there was a pair hidden, but where was the fun in that?

And maybe if he was extra lucky, Sam’d let him take a look at the bigger one after the fun was over. Preferably not on the receiving end.

**

Gotham was… confusing. Vlad didn’t know what to make of it.

These people were so damn scandalised by him putting a gentle hand on a young adult, yet armed goons and some form of crocodile man were apparently completely normal.

Oh, there was the odd cry, the occasional scream as a couple of hundred members of Gotham’s high society were pushed around, but from the quiet chatter surrounding him, this sort of nonsense was expected.

Amity Parkers reacted more than this to ghost attacks, and no one was ever seriously hurt during those. Not a lot more, obviously, but still.

He was almost becoming annoyed.

If he didn’t have his ghost sense he might have thought this “Killer Croc” was a ghost of some kind. He had that love of drama, the need for noise and attention.

It made Vlad think of Skulker really. Still, it was almost nice to know that the living could be just as dramatic. Ghosts had to come from somewhere after all.

Vlad could tolerate a little drama in other people, but he certainly had no time for it himself.

None at all.

Nope.

Still, there was something decidedly amusing about the whole situation. With the barest fraction of his powers he could likely deal with the whole crew.

Hells, they were few enough it’d hardly been a strain to overshadow every single one of the three dozen or so goons.

But that wouldn’t be fun now would it?

From what his neighbours were saying, though still none directly to him, the end result of these little messes was as predictable as the event itself.

Gotham had so many masked vigilantes at least one or two were sure to be close, and then the evening could continue. Perhaps a pause to redistribute valuables.

Personally, Vlad would prefer Gotham’s vigilantes take their time to show up. He’d been on the receiving end of Daniel’s heroic tendencies plenty of times.

It would be quite entertaining to be the one being saved. They’d all been separated into groups of fifteen, each with their own goon minder holding out what Vlad was sure was a fucking pillowcase for valuables.

A pillowcase. It didn’t even have handles. Yes, definitely better treat this as an amusing diversion because otherwise he’d have to be insulted.

Still, Vlad was content for now to sit on the floor, eyes scanning the room mostly patiently for his little badger.

That green scaly gentleman was stalking between the clusters of guests, ranting and raving about this “Dent” he was looking for.

Vlad doubted he’d get results, but perhaps once this whole mess was tidied up he would look into acquiring his services. Depending on how well he did when things got… messy.

He wasn’t paying him much mind at the moment though, because he’d just caught sight of a familiar flash of white hair.

Just Jason. No Phantom yet, but that was fine. And what a fun potential opportunity to see what their new halfa was like under pressure…

And as expected, there was Daniel, tucked close to the boy’s side. Still with Samantha and Tucker too, which was sure to make Daniel happy.

Adjusting himself more comfortably, Vlad settled in to wait. Daniel would make some sort of move soon. He was dimly aware that Brucie Wayne had just been pulled from the crowd.

**

Sam leaned in over Danny’s left shoulder, keeping her voice low.

“So Vlad’s fucking staring at us across the hall like the biggest creep on earth,” she hissed, and Danny automatically almost jolted to look.

Caught himself just in time. Leaned back against her, most of his attention still on Killer Croc.

“Think he had anything to do with this?” He asked under his breath, his gaze now meandering slowly across the other groups.

Yup, there was Vlad. Staring straight at him. Smiling when their eyes met, before Danny’s could dart away.

Ew.

“Does he look super expectant to anyone else?” Tucker whispered from behind them. Jason let out a soft growl, probably without even thinking about it.

Danny slipped a hand into his, squeezing gently.

Calm-relax-help is coming

Was not quite prepared for the shock that flashed back before Jason got it under control.

Jason hadn’t officially told Danny that the other Waynes and associates were the bats yet. He kinda didn’t have to.

Even if Jason had left the life after his death, that didn’t mean the family had. Still, it also wasn’t Jason’s secret to share, so Danny pretended to ignore it.

Much more productive to try and work out what the fuck Vlad’s angle was. Some kind of trick where he could play the hero and cozy up to Bruce?

Could he have orchestrated an attack with some of Gotham’s rogues? So far all of Croc’s demands had been for valuables and Harvey Dent, whoever that was.

There were surprisingly few actual valuables forthcoming too. Danny and Sam had obediently dropped their phones into an offered pillowcase, and wrestled Tucker’s precious PDA from his fingers.

The question mark guy had taken one look at it and tossed it back, declaring it junk. Aaaand Danny had shoved a fist into Tucker’s mouth while Sam reminded him that if he defended Ida’s worth, they’d take her.

He still wasn’t happy, but he had her in hand so he’d settled a lot more easily than the alternative.

Still, none of the pillowcases were really bulging, which was kinda weird. Most of the jewellery that had been on prominent sparkly display had kinda vanished when the windows shattered.

Some bigger pieces had been handed over, but Danny would swear the tiny harmless old lady in their group had had full bangles, necklace, earrings, and six rings on top of the ornate hair comb she’d handed over.

Weirder still, the goons seemed more annoyed than surprised.

“C’mon, don’t make me shake your fucking pockets out,” their guy growled, sending a kick at a young man near the edge of their circle. “Phones, wallets, jewellery, now!”

A single phone was passed up. An utterly unbelievable four from a group of fifteen. Danny raised his hands, trying to keep his Obsession on the back burner.

This wasn’t his city. Not his job. And if he changed to fight these guys, he’d be putting his friends in danger.

That last part was carrying most of the weight, honestly. And he’d finally lost his No Rogues streak.

Bummer. He’d been going for a campus record.

For tonight though, he could also distract himself with what the fuck Vlad was up to.

Pillowcase might be the one tossing his weight around, but long experience had taught Danny that he couldn’t protect anyone if he got caught in Vlad’s machinations.

That knowing little fucking smirk on Vlad’s face when their eyes met. The fucker was up to something, Danny knew it.

Well, there was one way to work out what. Glancing over at Jason, Danny made a face.

He’d understand. And maybe Danny could warn him a little better this time? Cuz if he got that overwhelmed every time, it’d be a real problem when they started training.

Then again, Danny had had a hard enough time with strong auras when he first got started, and he’d had a full core. Jason didn’t and Danny was… well, a lot bigger than Skulker or Technus.

Also Jason was still holding his hand. Which he had completely forgotten. Yup, his focus was totally great today.

He leaned in towards Jason instead, trying not to get differently distracted by the large man’s tension. Lots of muscles, well fitted suit, it would happen to anyone!

Except him. Today. Because there was a problem.

“Hey… I’m gonna try and get a read on Vlad, but that means I’ve gotta extend again. You good?”

**

It took every single second of every one of his four years with the League of Assassins to stop Jason flushing cherry red.

Great.

Best evening ever.

Highlight of his life.

His fucking king was checking if he was gonna pop a boner if he did some intel. Maybe he shoulda just fucking stayed in his damn grave.

It Did Not help that he could feel Danny’s concern creeping along the back of his neck like the lightest touch. Although…

Brow furrowing a little, Jason tried to chase down the feeling. Better than dealing with his own emotional state, which was Not Going There.

Danny felt… worried? About him? Not in the totally mortifying way Jason expected either. This felt almost soft.

Like he worried Jason might be hurt or upset if he did it.

There was a chance Danny hadn’t noticed.

Jason had been overwhelmed by Frostbite in the Far Frozen, it’d be a perfect cover if Danny hadn’t noticed the… key difference between the two.

Although the distinct amusement he could feel radiating off Sam suggested that she might have. Great again.

Since when could he feel human emotions?

How sure was he that Sam was still just human. She wasn’t a halfa, that was clear because there was no way Danny and Vlad could have missed it.

There were a lot of things between living and dying though. Jason was beginning to wonder just how many of them toed the edge of that particular line.

For now, he cleared his throat and tried to work out how best to seem like a totally-not-turned-on-by-your-looming-presence-in-my-every-breath guy.

Maybe it’d be better if he knew what to expect.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. Go for it.”

**

In all his years as a halfa and eventually the king of ghosts, Danny had never actually felt someone just turn themselves off before.

Jason’s aura shut down like he’d flicked a switch, his face suddenly completely unreadable. It was fucking weird, the sudden void where he’d been used to ignoring a background hum.

Maybe he’d fucked Jason up worse than he’d thought before. All those thoughts and feelings could be overwhelming, and Danny had tried not to send any messages beyond his presence, but…

His fucking presence was kind of a lot these days. Even he didn’t know how loud it’d get, it had been a long time since he’d faced down Pariah Dark.

And that had been a life or death situation. He’d been ready to deal with it. He’d kinda sprung this on Jason today.

Fuck, just the thought he might have hurt Jason twanged on the strings currently pulled taught by his Obsession. Made him want to wrap the other halfa up and Protect him from the world.

Which was exactly the thing that’d hurt Jason in the first place. No way he’d wanna deal with that again.

He was about to apologise for even mentioning it when he felt Jason slowly open up. Reaching back, probing and…

Danny didn’t try and look. Didn’t want to know what his words had caused which made the other man do That.

He didn’t need to though. Embarrassment-worry-hope spilled from that questing contact, and Danny made a specific effort not to think about it.

Jason was a big guy. Big and strong and clearly worked for his strength. Being caught in any moment of weakness probably sucked for him.

Hard to relate to, since even though Danny was technically the biggest and scariest fish in the whole damn ocean, he’d been a scrawny little fuck for his entire full life.

He’d been ground in the dirt long after he’d had the strength to stop it, and feigning weakness had kinda kicked that whole ego thing in the ass.

It helped when he was having to relive his most embarrassing highlights to prepare Jason for the “fun” of developing halfa powers.

Relief came through loud enough that Danny nearly smiled, nearly sent something back to reassure him, but he held off. It… didn’t feel intentional?

And yeah, very normal that Jason hadn’t liked the near-telepathy Danny’s empathy gave him into his thoughts and feelings before. It was invasive.

Buuuuut that worked for him when the one he was invading was a creepy old fuck with the occasional world domination scheme.

He glanced up when Jason cleared his throat and nodded.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. Go for it.”

Danny wasn’t gonna insult him by calling him a liar. Closing his eyes, he did his best to tamp down his presence and just reach across the hall.

**

Watching their whispered discussion with interest, Vlad almost wished he could hear them. Or spread his own energy the way Daniel could, far enough to read them from a distance.

That must have been what they were discussing though, because a moment later he could feel the stroking Presence of Daniel across his very soul.

Let the boy look. He had nothing to hide.

**

Danny’s eyes snapped open, blatantly dumbfounded.

“He’s fucking waiting for me to rescue him,” he hissed, almost loud enough to attract their goon’s attention.

Luckily another couple were busily insisting they simply did not own a cellphone. In Gotham city. In this day and age.

Just tell the guy to go fuck himself why don’t you.

None of the others seemed to know what to do with Danny’s revelation, though Jason’s lips pressed into a very thin line.

Danny would put money on repressing laughter.

Sam seemed to be on the same wavelength, brightening up and leaning in to Danny’s other ear.

“Wanna save literally anyone but him?” She murmured under her breath, glancing around the room.

Danny clapped a hand over his mouth ahead of any wayward giggles.

“SAM. There are bats about!” He hissed through his fingers and she rolled her eyes.

“Yeah so stay Fenton. You could still punch Killer Croc, it’s not like he has ectoblasts.”

Why did she have a point.

Why was Jason suddenly grinning at him, so bright with glee-mischief-fuckery Danny didn’t even need his aura to see it.

“Danny. Remember what my brother called you?” He asked quietly, leaning in almost close enough to be… distracting. Which was totally the only reason it took Danny a moment to twig.

Longer than Tucker anyway.

“Danger twink,” the Black man whistled with a wicked glee of his own. A grin spread across Danny’s own face.

“Oh… hell yes.”

**

As usual, Bruce found himself in a position to fully agree with his children.

Galas sucked.

Of course, that wasn’t unique to this one. He felt the same way most of the time. He understood the importance of keeping up appearances, but he’d rather spend the night asleep if he couldn’t be working.

Usually, the rogue attack was a pleasant diversion. A chance to watch his family at work. Bruce didn’t mind playing hostage for them.

Today, he was just frustrated.

He needed to talk to Jason. Needed to catch up with Tim, get whatever intel he’d acquired. Needed to get Jason away from this Danny and keep him safe.

The Riddler’s men pulling him from the crowds while they split them into manageable chunks was unfortunately expected. Brucie’s friendship with Harvey Dent was well known.

As little as he liked it, Batman preferred having some control of the situation. What he couldn’t understand was why Killer Croc and Riddler would both think Harvey was here.

Croc could sometimes be reasoned with, he’d gotten away from the Gotham nightlife more than once, but he kept being pulled back in.

Tonight did not seem to be one of his good nights.

Brucie fixed his best smile in place as the scaled man bellowed at him.

“We’re gonna find yer pal Dent, Brucie! Just give him up!”

Luckily, he’d put a lot of work into making Brucie as vapid as possible.

“Gee, it’s a surprise to see you here today, Mister Croc. I heard you had moved to Coney Island to do shows, I was really looking forward to bringing my kids down to see you,” he said cheerfully, like they were catching up in a cafe.

Croc was not amused. Yellow eyes narrowed.

“An’ now I’m here, and the only person I wanna see is that half barbecued mess you call a friend,” he growled, grabbing the front of Brucie’s shirt and shaking him roughly.

Bruce let himself flop, eyes going wide and terrified.

With any luck, Kane would be busy on the other side of town. He’d rather be able to check in with her later about the whole Danny scenario, her opinion unbiased.

“I’m sorry sir but I don’t think I can help you,” he gasped, hands coming up to clutch Croc’s, “Harvey isn’t here.”

That made the man stop, those slit pupils dilating as he squinted down into Brucie’s face. He did his very best wide eyed, empty headed socialite back.

He seemed to be coming to a conclusion as one of the Riddler’s men stepped up, holding up a tablet. On screen, there was the Riddler, idly spinning his cane.

“How goes the man hunt, Croccy?” He asked over the speakers, barely glancing at the man in his grasp.

Killer Croc examined Brucie for a moment longer, then snorted and dropped him. Brucie dropped to the floor, gasping for air and keeping at an angle where he could see the screen.

Had Riddler’s new bombs been intended for the gala all along? Or was this retaliation for the warehouse raid?

“He ain’t here yet,” Croc grumbled, and Bruce noted that for later.

Had Harvey been planning to attack the gala? As always with Two Face, it’d be a coin toss. The bats hadn’t heard that he was planning anything, but that didn’t always mean he wasn’t.

Riddler tutted softly, still spinning his cane.

“Well, we have time to wait. Are all the guests ready?”

His goon turned obediently, panning the tablet’s camera around the room. Brucie let himself drop slightly further back to keep the screen in sight, laying on the floor.

“Excellent.” Riddler sounded satisfied, which probably wasn’t good. “Croc!”

The goon turned again, bringing the camera back to face Killer Croc. Bruce was familiar enough with his face to see the reluctant tick of a smirk at the corners of his mouth.

It wasn’t exactly a dignified job, being the tablet bearer. Still, it did put this man lower on the priority list for his children to take out, so it had advantages.

“Yeah, yeah,” Killer Croc grumbled, also turning back to the room at large, and Bruce tensed. He was losing their interest.

“If Harvey-” he was cut off by a casual kick from Killer Croc, not hard enough to break anything, but hard enough that he had no choice but to crumple around it.

Batman could tank a hit. Brucie couldn’t be allowed to look even half as capable.

And then his heart froze in his chest as Croc bellowed to the rest of the room.

“Where’s the man of the hour?”

**

In the shadows of the ceiling, Nightwing, Spoiler, and Red Robin froze as one. Black Bat and Robin were mapping the perimeter, checking the number of goons and any extra defences before Signal arrived.

Sharing a quick set of worried glances, Nightwing swung lightly across the hall to get a better look at the tablet. Tapped at his comm.

“Odds they want anything good with Jason?” He asked in a whisper, grimacing when Spoiler and Red Robin shook their heads as one.

Yeah. He figured.

“Odds we can move in now and get it over with?” Not that he expected them to be high.

Spoiler held out a hand palm down and wiggled it from side to side. Before any of them could speak, Robin commed in.

“Negative. There’s another dozen of Riddler’s men out here, setting up some sort of machine. It seems you caught the very tail end of his efforts,” he added with a disdainful scoff.

A grin tugged at Nightwing’s lips as Red Robin visibly twitched.

“That or he’s retaliating for his latest plan being foiled,” he offered cheerfully.

He didn’t particularly have any investment in them not having taken Riddler out of the picture; the man himself wasn’t in Arkham, so he’d assumed he’d be back.

Maybe not this soon, but Nigma could be volatile if his careful preparations were disturbed. And since he also wasn’t here…

“Something’s wrong either way, Riddler loves being on scene far too much to stay in the shadows,” Red Robin hissed, eyes still darting around. “He’d want to send a taunt to the Bats.”

“He’s gonna be real disappointed that we’re all here already if he’s posted up somewhere else,” Spoiler pointed out with a slight smirk, glancing around the hall. “Should we ask Signal to hold back?”

“Hey, you got me out of bed for the Danger Twink,” Signal cut in, just a hint of a grunt indicating he was already on his way.

“Batwoman and Bluebird can hunt him down if the taunt comes,” Red Robin cut them both off, brows furrowed in that all too familiar calculating frown.

Which, yeah. It’d be bugging him way more than Nightwing that something was off with the rogues’ behaviour. Red Robin liked knowing everything about everyone, all the time.

Nightwing didn’t mind switching it up, though every bat knew how to roll with the punches.

The lack of a puzzle was odd though. Riddler usually didn’t move in public until he had at least something ready to share.

Reaching up, he tapped his comms.

“Hey Robin, any chance you can get a closer look at what they’re setting up? See what we’re gonna be dealing with before Puzzle Quest starts?”

Robin just sounded impatient, flicking his own comms loud enough they all heard the impact.

“That is what I am doing. Thus far it seems rather basic. No recording or transmitting equipment.”

Which meant that either Riddler was set up to broadcast somewhere else, or this really wasn’t his operation. But what would Riddler have to gain from working with Killer Croc?

Or were they both just looking for Two face?

Too many questions, and they weren’t likely to get the answers without at least two of the rogues in question. Hopefully someone else would get their hands on Riddler, if he wasn’t coming personally.

Maybe it wasn’t great that more than half the family were on site. Fucking typical that this would be the first rogue attack ever without the rogues physically present.

Red Robin’s head rose, and Nightwing settled into position to wait. Time for the plan.

“Black Bat, finish your sweep and let us know if there’s anything else being set up on site, Spoiler go to join her. Signal, sweep the outer perimeter when you arrive, be on the watch for Riddler himself or more goons.”

Spoiler nodded, making her way from the hall through the chandelier maintenance hatch. Red Robin looked across at Nightwing, and he gave him a thumbs up.

“I’ll get a little closer and see if I can’t get an eye on that screen while you hack the feed?” He asked, and grinned when Red Robin shot him a grateful smile.

It was hard for any of them to keep up when Tim fell into his full planning mode, whether they were masked or not. Any time he didn’t have to spell things out he was happy.

Nightwing never held it against him. The kid could leave Batman spinning his wheels and he’d been frustrated often enough when he had to explain his plans to the Teen Titans.

Knowing that everyone in the room was smart and capable did not help when you were talking at cross purposes.

Tonight, he attached a line to one of the ornate pillars along the walls and lowered himself down into the shadows of one of the draped blue hangings.

If nothing else, it gave him a good view as Jason was pulled from his little group.

Little Wing looked… well, not that they’d expected him to look terrified or even particularly concerned, but he looked seriously amused by the situation.

This should be good.

**

It wasn’t that Jason had been expecting to be singled out. As far as most of the rogues knew, the Waynes were just another one of the richest families in town.

Good to shake down for cash, but not usually of any special interest. He was pretty sure most of the rogues couldn’t even name half the adopted kids.

So being called out by Killer Croc? Not expected. That it had happened literally right after he and Danny had been discussing plans to start shit?

Incredible. 10/10, Croc was moving up on his favourite villain list. He’d always been high, but this might do it.

It helped that the rush of Danny’s Presence had been more manageable this time. Whether it was having been warned or just experiencing it before, he hadn’t been swept off his feet.

It was still a lot, as if Danny had laid himself along Jason’s back and then pulled his way straight into his body. But he could breathe. Could think, could focus, and then it was gone again.

And being summoned by Killer Croc pretty much right away.

Maybe the adrenaline helped. Who fucking knew.

He raised a hand as the goons all turned to their groups, squinting suspiciously at the socialites.

“That’d be me?” He offered dryly, already rising as their riddler minion made as if to push through their group.

Sam grabbed Danny’s arm as Jason moved away, and onlookers might have confused it as her wanting comfort, or stopping Danny from following.

This close, Jason knew it was a warning for Danny not to actually laugh. The timing was just… the actual fucking best.

Killer Croc actually moved down towards him too, rather than having Jason brought up to the stage. Even better. Jason didn’t exactly square up, but he didn’t back down.

Croc seemed to approve, giving Jason an entirely unsubtle once over as he stopped just in front of him.

Better play carefully though. He’d worked with Croc as the Red Hood, and he already knew Roy’s real identity.

Croc had been running with Harley lately (and Jason kinda loved that partnership made in Hell) but he wasn’t officially on the list of Rogues Who Knew.

Luckily the plan wasn’t for Jason to take a swing at him.

“So yer back from the dead,” Croc growled, something in his eye making Jason wonder if they might not have to update that list after all. “Coulda sworn you were a scrawny little shit.”

Jason shrugged. It wasn’t really something he could deny; he’d grown almost a foot and a half. Being dead: weirdly good for growth spurts.

“I got better.”

What it was to Croc though… unless he did know who Jason really was. But then he’d have known Jason had been back for a while.

Croc rumbled something under his breath, and Jason made a note to run him down later as Red Hood. He’d been settled in Coney Island, finally out of the game.

Jason wasn’t gonna put him in Arkham if there was a chance they could fix whatever had dragged him back to town. And they could catch up. See what he actually knew.

Eyes narrowing just a little, Croc caught a scaly thumb under Jason’s jaw and tipped his face back and forth.

“So what the hell’ve you done to piss of Two Face, kid?” He asked in a lower growl, not quite quiet enough for privacy but not yelling to the whole hall.

Jason’s brows furrowed.

So they weren’t after Dent as a guest. He’d been planning an attack on the gala. Whether he’d still go through with it now though…

And the good news was, best case scenario here was to tell the truth. At least some of it.

“No idea. I’ve only been back in the land of the living for a couple weeks.” And he hadn’t run across Two Face recently in any costume.

Croc chuckled softly, which Jason was going to weigh in the “might know” column, but was interrupted by Riddler shouting across the hall.

“Just bring the boy here, Croccy, we need to set the stage before our fickle friend shows up!” He sounded impatient, and Jason watched annoyance flick across Croc’s eyes.

But the big man just shrugged, curling an arm around Jason’s bicep and tugging him towards the stage.

Yeah, Jason could feel just how much Danny didn’t like that development. There was a new undercut of tension alongside the amused-excited-anticipation.

And it was as good a time as any to start the show.

“What do you guys want with Two Face?” He asked as Croc dragged him, moving with him but not quite keeping up.

Flicking wait-soon-just one second as much as he could towards Danny.

Croc glanced back and gave him a harsher yank to keep up, attention now fixed on the stage. Where a couple more of Riddler’s goons had appeared, holding what looked fascinatingly like a bomb vest.

Joy. Not just Croc’s idea then.

“You’ll see just as soon as he shows up,” the big guy growled, and Jason sighed. So much for the easy way.

Ready-ready-ready

DUCK

“Catching” one toe on the heel of his other shoe, Jason stumbled and fell to the floor. As expected Croc twisted to glare down at him, grip still tight on his arm. Even bent over just a little, like he’d seen the script.

Perfect.

Which meant he didn’t see Danny vaulting up from his spot on the floor and wasn’t even a little prepared for an entire scrawny but muscular young man to land squarely straddling his shoulders, his added weight and momentum pitching Croc forwards and down to the ground.

Danny rode him down like a rodeo champ, leaning back and grinning at Jason as a hail of batarangs came from the ceiling.

“Come here often?” He asked cheerfully as Croc roared, clawed hands swiping up just after Danny rolled away down his back.

Jason snorted a laugh, pulling free as well and backing away.

Fucking danger twink. Yeah, he was kinda in love.

——————-

Next:

[dealgemeneverwarring]

De Algemene Verwarring #100 - 30 October 2023

The hundredth episode of De Algemene Verwarring was broadcast on Monday, October 30, 2023, and you can listen to it by clicking on the link below that will take you directly to the Mixcloud page:

Pictured below is The Fall and I can't think of a better band to be featured in the hundredth (pronounce thàt) episode of De Algemene Verwarring (well, there is one other band). Anyway, here they are in their 1988 line-up, the line-up that recorded the albums The Frenz Experiment and I Am Kurious Oranj, with Brix, Marcia Schofield, Craig Scanlon, Steve Hanley and Simon Wolstencroft. The Frenz Experiment is, I think, a rather under-estimated album by the band, at least it's not mentioned that much when people talk about the best Fall albums. However it features one of their biggest hits, the cover of The Kinks' "Victoria", but that is not even the best song on the album, it has also "Hit The North", "Carry Bag Man", "Oswald Defence Lawyer" and "Bremen Nacht" and those are all classics in my ears. I got first acquainted with The Fall thanks to the Kortrijk library, where in those mid-to-late eighties I picked up copies of Perverted By Language and This Nation's Saving Grace (PBL still being my all time favorite Fall record). In general, the Kortrijk library had an excellent selection of vinyls in those days, I owe a great deal of my musical memories to them. In the nineties I kind of lost connection with The Fall, it was the period that they incorporated more electronics into their music which didn't appeal that much to me and in all honesty, in the nineties I was more of a hipster indie boy listening to Sebadoh and Palace Brothers. I came back to the band in the noughties when they released excellent albums such as Fall Heads Roll and Imperial Wax Solvent, and finally got to see them live in Porto, of al places. Anyway, The Fall, probably the best band in the world, had a great influence on my musical taste, I still got lots of love for repetitive music (be it from Swans or from Lungfish or even Emeralds) and Mark E. Smith is a fookin' legend.

So, episode 100 is filled with 22 cover songs, featuring "Victoria" by The Fall, amongst others. I've added the band who recorded the original version in the playlist. Hope you enjoy it. And thanks for listening 100 times to my "duiding". And beneath the photo you can find the playlist for this show. Enjoy!

Playlist:

New Bomb Turks: I Hate People (Anti Nowhere League) (split 7” with Entombed “Night Of The Vampire/I Hate People” on Earache Records, 1995)

Complications: Stuck In A Cave (Chrome Cranks) (LP “Play Loud… & Pray Lords…” on Screamers Records, 2013)

Killdozer: Unbelievable (EMF) (7” “The Pig Was Cool/Unbelievable”  on Touch & Go Records, 1993)

Cows: You Are So Beautiful (Joe Cocker) (cd “Amphetamine Reptile >>Peel Sessions<<“ on Strange Fruit, 1992)

Sonic Youth: Hot Wire My Heart (Crime) (lp “Sister” on SST Records, 1987)

The Fall: Victoria (The Kinks) (lp “The Frenz Experiment” on Indisc, 1988)

Alaska Y Los Pegamoides: Doctor Spock (Spizzenergi) (lp “Subnormal Girls - DIY Post-Punk - 1979-1984 Volume 3” on Waiting Room Records, 2018)

The Rogers Sisters: Object (The Cure) (cd “Three Fingers”, reissue on Too Pure & Troubleman Unlimited, 2005, originally released in 2004)

The Raincoats: Lola (Kinks) (cd “Rough Trade Shops: Post Punk 01” on Mute Records, 2003)

The Vanishing: A Forest (The Cure) (7” split with Something About Vampires And Sluts “The Shameless Kiss Of Vanity (A Tribute To The Cure Volume 2) on Release The Bats, 2003)

US Girls: Bits + Pieces (The Dave Clark Five) (LP V/A “The Statement” on Clan Destine Records, 2012)

Rowland S. Howard: White Wedding (Billy idol) (lp “Teenage Snuff Film” on Mute Records, reissue 2020, originally released in 1999 on Reliant Records)

Skin: Black Eyed Dog (Nick Drake) (LP “Ten Songs For Another World” on Young God Records, 1990)

Einstürzende Neubauten: Sand (Lee Hazelwood/Nancy Sinatra) (2LP “Strategies Against Architecture II” on Potomac & Reihe EGO, 1991)

Roy Montgomery: Superstar (The Carpenters) (LP “That Best Forgotten Work” on Grapefruit Records, 2021)

Carla Dal Forno: Blue Morning (The Kiwi Animal) (LP V/A “A Short Illness From Which He Never Recovered” on Blackest Ever Black, 2019)

De Portables: No Bones (Dinosaur Jr) (LP “It’s Time To Leave This World Behind” on Almost Halloween Time Records, 2012)

Sebadoh: Riding (Palace Brothers) (CD EP “Beauty Of The Ride” on Domino, 1996)

This Mortal Coil: Fond Affections (Rema-Rema) (cd “It’ll End In Tears” on 4AD, 1984)

Thomas Bush: Private Dancer (Tina Turner, geschreven door Mark Knopfler) (2LP V/A “Labyrinth Of Memories” on Kashual Plastik, 2021)

Neutral: Japanese Superheroes (Le Forte Four) (7” “Neutral” on I Dischi Del Barone, 2017)

Chromatics: Running Up That Hill (Kate Bush) (cd “Night Drive” on Italians Do It Better, 2007)

[emmafreakecreations]

Acotar Sims part 2

Part 2 is just the bat boys. I gotta be honest for their traits i didn't know what to put.

Rhysand

His vibes are mafia boss, some inspiration from Massimo. His aspiration is neighbor confidant, and traits are bro, perfectionist and romantic. (not that I personally like his romantic gestures, but he fancies himself as a ladies man)

Everyday

Formal

Sleep

Athletic

Party

Swinwear

Hot weather

Cold wear

Cassian

I went with Tora from Midnight Poppyland vibes for him. His aspiration is body builder, traits are self-assured, Bro, and goofball. I also gave him a lot of red because his siphons are red.

Everyday

Formal

Athletic

Sleep

Party

Swim

Hot weather

Cold weather

Azriel

Idk what vibes I was going for with Az but I was thinking artist/hipster vibes. He's got mostly blue clothes because of his blue siphons. His aspiration is soulmate, and his traits are loner, music lover, and creative.

Everyday

Formal

Sleep

Athletic

Party

Swim

Hot weather

Cold weather

[milkytheholy1]

A Detective Always Interrogates Twice

A/N: Howdy everyone! So this isn't related to Everything Ends, just want to make that clear right off the bat. This is in fact heavily inspired by an episode of It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia! It's from season 14, episode 5 titled "A Janitor Always Mops Twice", I'd check it out if you have the time, it might help make things less confusing. I also use a lot of 40's slang, so sorry in advance, but hey educate ya selves!

Hope you enjoy!

Rise Leo x Female Reader

Tmnt masterlist. Ultimate masterlist.

----------------------------------------------------------

The dark nights were harrowing, the radio had forecast a sunny day but in this city, the most light you get is from the streetlamps. Rain thundered against the concrete of the road, businessmen in their fancy cars and sauced-up taxi drivers sloshing their tires through the puddles. 

The droplets pittered down into the sewers, leaving a dripping sound to echo through the tunnels every other second. If you carried on following the winding underground underpasses of New York it would lead you to a home away from home. 

A lair hidden from the bastards and dames up above, they wouldn't even know a family lived beneath them. In the lair were four brothers and their pops, secret heroes of the night and friends to two lucky gals in the city. 

Leonardo claimed to be the second-oldest, only rivalling his brother Donatello for second place. Currently, the schmuck was sitting on his bed, the pressed sheets crumpled under his weight. Between his hands laid a comic book, something he took a lot of interest in like the hipster he was.

"Oh ho ho, Captain America, you are killer diller!" he hummed out, flipping the flat page. Beside his bed was a stack of more brightly coloured comics, the pile leaning heavily due to the quantity. Placing the latest issue on the heap, Leo wiped his hands clean and spread them out on his legs; the baggy material of his trousers crinkling against his movements.

He stared off to his cabinet across from him, a smirk adorning his face. Getting up with an added flashy spin, he marched over to the cabinet and slowly pulled open the draw. His eyes were closed as the smug smile remained, reaching out for that familiar plastic covering, Leo grasped the bag and held it up.

"And now, as a treat for all my hard work, I shall read my most prized possession." Finally opening his eyes, the boy cringed. The comic was gone, skedaddled, vamoosed. Leo ducked his head into the draw, checking that it hadn't just slipped out, but no the poor boy came out empty-handed.

Quickly the mood changed, his peepers narrowed and his smile disappeared, "How could this have happened? I must be some sort of schnook!" he furrowed his brows. Leo rubbed his chin, deep in thought, "Some fat head must have done this, and I'm going to get to the bottom of this and give 'em a knuckle sandwich."

- Cut to the interrogation room, A.K.A, the living room - 

I decided to go with my eldest brother first, he had a motive after all and knew the comic meant a great deal to me. Raph had a punch that could topple a building and he was the head honcho of our whole family biz, no doubt he ran into some trouble and could use the extra lettuce. 

"Why am I here again?" Raph questioned, forced into the wooden chair, a spotlight blinding his face. Leo paced in front of him, "My dear brother, this investigation is going to go one way or the other, ya see?"

"Investigation?" Raph gasped, beads of sweat dripping down the cavern of his head due to the heat of the spotlight burning his skin. Leo nodded his head, tipping the tip of his fedora so it rests comfortably on his head, "Tell me what you know about Captain Marvel issue 1?"

"Ya mean that crummy nerd book ya read? Why would I take it, knucklehead?" Raph butted back. Leo smirked at him in a cocky manner, "Perhaps you wanted to make a few quick bucks," he shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. Raph rolled his eyes, "C'mon, I ain't no nerd like you."

"Hey!" Leo moaned out, finally turning to face Raph for the first time since this 'interview' started. Raph let out a laugh, standing from the chair and dusting down his suit, "I'm just ragging," he laughed pulling Leo into the side of his chest. Raph's grip got tighter as his laughter died down, he poked a finger against Leo's chest as he spoke, "But don't you ever accuse me of stealing or I'll punch ya right in the kisser, got it?"

"Uh-huh," Leo mumbled out, flailing out of Raph's grasp. The moment his older brother left the room, Leo went back to narrating, rubbing his chin in deep thought about who his next suspect would be.

My next suspect was none other than my twin brother, Donatello. He was a cold fish, a run outta gas kinda guy, the man was no dead hoofer and that was for sure; he could cut a rug like no other.

"Please, praytell, why I am here and not in my humble but extremely comfortable laboratory?" Donnie rolled his eyes, a real wise guy. Leo dragged a chair up and sat in front of his so-called brother, shifting the bright light slowly and staring at him, hoping he'd break.

"Oh please don't tell me you're trying to act like one of those gumshoes from those radio shows you listen to?" Donatello huffed out, Leo gasped, almost offended, "How dare you, you're such a creep, y'know that?"

"Oh, Leonardo, I've been called many things over the years. Please find new material, preferably not from the radio shows you fawn over." Donnie pulled a book from his side, hidden away by the chair's arms. His shirt sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, another sign he had been in his lab a majority of the evening. 

"Where were you at precisely 6 o'clock this evening?" Leo carried on, he was going to get an answer one way or another. Donatello sighed, rolling his eyes but continued to interact with his brother's fantasies, "I was in my lab, where I usually reside. Are we done now?" his voice was dry and full of wit.

Leo let out a mighty groan, having a minor temper tantrum, "Are you sure you didn't take it?" he asked, his voice wavering. Donnie flicked his peepers up from his book, simply titled 'Calvert's Mechanics', staring blankly at his twin, Donnie huffed out, "I - ugh, hang on - I prom-promis-PROMisss-PROMISE-" he spluttered out, "I didn't take your book of ink."

Leo's head dropped, but he wouldn't let this setback stop him. He had a pad full of names, a list full of possible suspects. Kicking Donatello out of the interrogation room, he called in another suspect.

"You got me, I did it! I confess!" Mikey cried out, hands placed in a praying motion as he begged for forgiveness. Leo sighed, placing his hands on his hips, "Mikey I just asked if you were thirsty?" the box turtle stopped the waterworks and moved to a more neutral position, "Oh, actually now that I think about it, I am." 

"Oh so you admit, you were thirsty, thirsty for crime!" Leo dramatically gasped.

"TELL ME WHO DID IT!" he yelled out, hands slamming against the wooden arms of the chair. Poor Michelangelo shook at the action, shrivelling up in the chair with sweat dripping down his spine, "I DON'T KNOW!" he cried out, genuinely terrified. 

"I KNOW YOU KNOW WHO DID IT!" Leo went back for more, he knew he could break Mikey. No offence, he was a pretty cool cat when he wanted to be, but Mikey couldn't keep a secret no matter how important. All Ol'Leonardo needed to do was figure out how to crack his shell.

"Admit it, you took the comic book after one of your nightly food binges. Your hands got grubby and so did your eyes, you were so comatose you waddled into my room and not your own bunks. You thought you were grabbin' a napkin, to clean those cheesy hands of yours, when you accidentally grabbed my comic." Leo paced around the room, tapping his chin as he set out his trap.

"Then once you realised it was already too late, the crime had been committed and you were a grade A criminal. So, what do you say? Does that sound about right?" he finished, flicking Mikey a smug smoulder. 

The young teen crumbled under the pressure, admitting to guilt though entirely innocent, "I'M GUILTY!"

Mikey was no help, the kid just kept confessing even though he had a rock-solid alibi. But now the family were out of the way, it was time to move on to more hostile targets.

"I know you did not just accuse me of stealing your dumb comic," April growled out, "And what's with all the lights, you're gonna use up the city's power grid with this bad boy on." she shoved the spotlight away from her face, already feeling the cool air smother her burning skin.

"Oh, c'mon April..." Leo moaned out, walking around the back of the chair, "How long have we known each other now? Four? Maybe five years?" he hummed, watching for her baited reaction. She shrugged her shoulders, "Leo, you're not going to guilt trip me. I already told you, man, I don't have your comic!" Before Leo could even blink, April was out of the chair and throwing it around the room.

Uh oooh, maybe Leo overdid it with this one.

April was a lost cause, like Mikey, she too had a good alibi. April held a job at the local bar, serving drunks and hosting floozies. But now I could set my eyes on someone a little more...alluring.

Her name was (Y/N), a sweet girl with an attitude for fun and monsters like me. She and I were like two peas in a pod, a horse and its horseshoes, a rabbit and a hare. There'd be no way on this planet that she'd betray me.

(Y/N) walked into the room, the white flow of her dress trailing behind her like she was some form of a goddess, and just maybe she was. Scarlet lips hypnotised Leo, his brain went to mush the moment her perfume invaded their living space, "Oh Leon, I heard about what happened and it sounds just awful. Do you know who did this to you?"

She spoke like an angel, from heaven who knew? But she was some form of happiness on legs and I couldn't let time slip with this one. There was a certain air when we were together, I knew she felt it much like I did. And I know a dame like that would go quite quick on the streets above, yet I still find myself stalling. 

"Not yet, doll. But don't worry, cause once I do these sewers will be safe once more." he flashed her a smile, leaning up against the chair until their shoulders bumped. (Y/N) batted her lashes, letting out a small giggle, "Well, you betta hurry. I don't want anything bad happening to you or your brothers."

"You've got nothing to worry about, toots. Old Neon Leon has got this case in the bag." he smirked, eyes half-lidded. (Y/N) hummed in delight, waiting for him to continue. 

"So, you were here last night I believe, did you happen to see anything...unusual?" he leaned in close to her face, could feel her breath fan across his skin. She shook her head 'no', her eyes were sparkling even under such an intense brightness, "I believe the only unusual thing I saw that evening was you."

"Oh ho hoo, you charmer!" Leo laughed out, clearly flustered. No matter how many times Leo flirted with (Y/N), whether that was subtly or not, he could never keep his cool when she did it back; it would send him into a spiral.

"Well, the only thing I saw last night was a pretty, young lady with the most fetching smile in all of New York." that caused her to blush, but Leo had to think for a moment, was it okay to flirt with a suspect? Eh, he figured since all the detectives in his radio shows do it, it must be fine!

(Y/N) reached up with a dainty hand and kissed him on the cheek, his red marks imprinted with a dark lip. Leo's eyes fluttered as the room stopped spinning, (Y/N) was already halfway out of the room by the time his senses returned.

"What was that for?" he asked dreamily. (Y/N) giggled, blowing him another kiss, to which he made a show of getting, "For good luck, detective."

And just like that, she was gone into the night, so much for an interview.

The day was coming to an end, or in more accurate terms the sun was about to set, and yet Leonardo was no closer to finding the crook that took his only enjoyment in life. Defeated and saddened, Leo trailed back to his room; his fedora titled in shame.

"Ay Leo, check out who I just found wanderin' the streets!" Raph's burly voice called out, echoing against the sewer walls. Leon bolted back to the 'interrogation room', there laying in a pile on the ground was Repo Mantis; a real bad egg, a no-good hunk of junk, a conman. 

Raph stood proudly on top of the fella, his arms folded over his chest causing his nice new tux to be crumpled, "Why don't ya ask this geezer where ya comic is?"

"Wait, wait, wait...You stole my comic?" Leo sent his glare to the mantis pile on the ground, Repo just stared up at him with a groan, "Yeah, so what it was me?" he growled out, the man was putting up a defence. Leo shook his head, completely baffled, "How'd ya do it?"

By this point, all the other 'suspects' had entered the room, no doubt due to the commotion ringing through the empty halls. Repo looked around at all the new faces, winking at the two women until Leo and Donnie blocked his view. The crook sighed once more, "Last time we got into a fight I swiped it off ya knocked out mug."

"Huh, y'know what? That does sound prettttyyy familiar." Leo hummed out, rubbing his chin, deep in thought. 

"Are you serious right now? You interrogated us all day with your dumb gumshoe logic and yet you knew who did it this entire time!" Donnie cried out, calm and logic thrown at the metaphorical window. Leo cringed, waggling his finger back and forth in his brother's face, "Ah, ah, ah, my dear Donatello. Don't be a fathead. A good detective never half-asses a case, I had to make sure all my leads were cleared before I could move on to solving the case."

"Leads? Boy, you sat us under a hot lamp for twenty minutes and accused us all of taking your comic book." April snided, arms folded and hip jutting out. 

"Okay, enough blabbering!" Raph interrupted, lifting Repo by the collar and slamming him into the wooden chair. He pulled the lamp against his face causing Repo's pupils to shrink, "Where's the comic?" Raph gruffed out. Repo shoved the lamp away, rubbing and blinking his eyes, "I sold it to some guy in New Jersey."

"Ugh, of all the places in the world, it had to be Jersey." Leo groaned, maybe this was one case not worth solving after all.

[shewhowantsmouseears]

17Darkwing episode concept script/original song - "I Love The Danger"

After reading both the Ducktales17 Art Book and Episode Guide, it kind of got me in a mood, so I experimented and tried to write the beginnings of a 17Based Darkwing Duck episode, as Morgana’s debut episode, with the Morgana being the absolute perfect one designed by @queenie-draws-stuff . Hope you enjoy.

-

[ Scene opens with pigeons cooing peacefully a branch, a few notes of calm music playing. Suddenly a hard rock chord blares out, startling them, shaking the screen - the birds fly away, cut to Drake, Launchpad, and Gosalyn walking alongside several goth-fashioned teens.]

Drake: Uh, I know I said I wanted to get to know you better, Gosalyn, but when you said you wanted to go to a concert, I kinda expected...

Gosalyn: Some bubblegum pop princess or a boyband where every guy looks the same?

Drake: Kiiiinda? N-Not that I have a problem with... who are they again?

[ The trio are inside the concert hall. The hard rock music is dimming, but still in the background. Noticeably, more than half of the seats remain empty.]

Gosalyn: Morgana and the Ghoulies! They're only the coolest goth rock band ever!

Launchpad: They're the best rock goth band I know! And the only one. Never heard of them until right this second.

Gosalyn: No one has. That's why it's important to be a fan now, so when they do get popular, I can be one of those annoying hipster people saying "I knew them before they were cool!"

[ The trio make their way to their seats. Drake still looks a little concerned about this. Launchpad is blissfully cheerful as always. Gosalyn is practically vibrating with excitement.]

Drake: Well, it does explain why the tickets were so cheap. And why they're playing in the middle of the day. [Again, a cut to just how empty the theater is. Emphasis on how small the audience is. Back to Drake.] I just want to make sure you don't wind up with the wrong kind of role model.

Gosalyn: Would you prefer my role model be a crazy actor from a failed show in the 90s? I could do a lot worse.

[ Drake gives her an annoyed look, and opens his mouth to make a retort, but the lights suddenly go out. There's the sound of a woman laughing evilly, as the camera pans across the concert hall.]

???: Well well well, boys and ghouls! What do we have here in this little ditty of a city called Saint Canard? I hear there's a bunch of weirdos here. A bunch of outsiders. I even hear there's some freak in a cape who fights crime!

[ Camera cut back to the family. Drake is offended.]

Drake: Hey!

Gosalyn: No, it's good! "Freak" is cool now!

Launchpad: Cool is freak?

Gosalyn: No, freak is cool!

Drake: Does that mean lame is good and awesome is bad?

Gosalyn: What - no!

Launchpad: So when the people on the bus saw me eating a three-week old sandwich, they were giving me compliments?

[ Gosalyn looks absolutely exasperated. The voice laughs again, and then the camera cuts to the stage. The other musicians have been there all this time, cloaked in shadow. A spotlight suddenly shines on each of them, one at a time, before shining on lone standing microphone, the laughter continuing all the while. A swarm of bats floods the stage - the camera spins around a figure in the bats, and then they suddenly fly off, there stands Morgana McCawber with her guitar. She flips her hair and then approaches the mike, grabbing it and speaking into it. ]

Morgana: Then it sounds like this is my kinda town!

[ Cut to the family. Background characters are cheering enthusiastically, some throwing up horn-fingers. In this moment, we understand what the initial 'relationship' of Morgana will be with these three : Gosalyn is so excited she is literally leaping up and down in her seat. Launchpad winces, looking rather afraid of everything and everyone. Drake's eyes are wide, and he's slowly smiling in wonder, as cupid's arrow took a pretty good shot.]

Gosalyn: That's her! That's Morgana McCawber!

[ cut back to Morgana. She's surveying the crowd, smirking, possibly in contempt. The first notes of the Darkwing Duck theme song plays before cutting to the opening theme song. Back in the episode proper, it focuses on Morgana's fingers rapidly strumming her guitar. Quick cut to each band-mate and what they play, ending with Morgana taking up the screen as the lyrics start.

Throughout the song, it cuts to Morgana singing and dancing this same song through the backdrops/scenes of classic Disney villains, such as Scar's rocky valley in Be Prepared, the Underworld from Hercules, Gaston’s tavern, etc. ]

Morgana: I'm not your damsel in distress,

I'm here to make a mess,

Gimmie chaos, gimmie rock,

Cause I ain't ever gunna stop!

I don't need your safety, and I don't need your rules,

I look at all these heroes but all I see are fools!

Be prepared for when I play, because you'll be singing all day!

Danger's where I need to be, danger's all of me,

Snuff out the light, don't try to make it right,

Danger is the only place where I can finally be free!

Gimmie the danger, I want the danger, I need the danger,

I love the danger!

[As the next batch of lyrics start, a burly dog-type shoves himself in front of Gosalyn. It keeps cutting back to the song and the family, with Morgana's eyes narrowing as she seems to see what's happening.]

Morgana: If you want to join me then clap your hands high,

Once you listen to my song, there's nothing I can't try -

Gosalyn: Hey!

Dog-Face: Can it, brat! I'm a real fan!

Drake: That's not fair, we paid for these seats!

Gosalyn: Move over, you big jerk!

Morgana: Gimmie everything shiny, hand it over quick,

Before the show is over, you'll never see the trick  -

Dog-Face: Why don't you make me, kid?

Gosalyn: Don't think I won't!

[Gosalyn takes a swing but misses by a mile. Dog-Face grabs Gosalyn by the scurff of her shirt, clearly ready to hurt her. Drake calls out her name, he and Launchpad are immediately out of their seat to try and save her. One more cut to Morgana playing.]

Morgana: If there is someone out there who sees me,

Then you have to believe me,

And only then will I finally be free!

[ Cut to Morgana's fingers on the guitar. She starts playing so rapidly that electric sparks appear, running up and down her arm. The camera follows the lightning as it meets Morgana's eyes, then it shoots out and suddenly flies to the Dog-Face bully, Gosalyn is dropped - The Dog Face is slammed into the back wall, charred black and he slides down with eyes big and white. The electric current suddenly runs a circle around the confused, frightened family, taking out all of the seats. Then it stops, there stands Morgana, who looms down at Gosalyn. Close up of a panicked Gosalyn, who is worried she's somehow ruined the concert.

Cut to Morgana, who smiles after a beat. She then leans in to Gosalyn, singing again.]

Morgana: Danger's where I need to be, danger's all of me!

[ Cut to Gosalyn's face, her eyes literally sparkly. She suddenly runs to be alongside Morgana, the two of them dancing and singing together. The audience circles around them, cheering them on.]

Morgana/Gosalyn: Snuff out the light, don't try to make it right,

Danger is the only place where I can finally be free!

[ Cut to standing Drake and Launchpad. Launchpad still seems a bit nervous, but he relaxes and smiles. Drake's smile is a little goofier than normal, a hand to his heart. Seeing this woman defend and then play with Gosalyn is just shooting more Cupid's arrows. A quick cut to the band - Ghoulia, the cyclops, grumbles in annoyance. The others look equally displeased. Back to the singing and dancing. ]

Morgana/Gosalyn: Danger's where I need to be, danger's all of me,

Snuff out the light, don't try to make it right,

Danger is the only place where I can finally be free!

[ For the final lyrics, Morgana pulls away from Gosalyn. Seeing Launchpad, she pulls off a monster face, with claws, fangs, and forked tongue. He quietly yelps, and then Morgana is normal again, playfully shoving his shoulder. As she passes Drake, she stops to give him a once over, smirks, and drags a finger under his beak as she walks away. He leans in to the touch and falls over when it's over, with Launchpad quickly catching him and springing Drake back to his feet.

Morgana grabs the shoulders of two of the audience members. They give her a boost as she stands on their shoulders, belting out the song.]

Morgana: Gimmie the danger, I want the danger, I need the danger,

I love the danger!

I love the danger!

I LOVE THE DANGER!

[ She laughs manically, and then falls backwards - dissolving into a flurry of bats. One of the bats flies into the screen, and when it flies away we're outside of the concert hall. The doors burst open, and the audience is exiting. Audience members are chatting to one another, Gosalyn is laughing and jumping a bit. Launchpad is normal. Drake is walking in a daze, smiling like an idiot and staring at nothing with half-lidded eyes.]

Gosalyn: KEEN GEAR! That was SO COOL! Didn't I tell you? I can't believe those special effects!

Launchpad: Yeah, a lot of that looked so real. Wasn't that something, Drake?

Drake: [only half-listening, voice a bit dream-like.]  That was... something... all right...

Gosalyn: I've GOT to get Morgana's autograph! Dad, can I borrow your electric razor so I can get my hair just like hers?

Drake: Yeah. Sure. Why not.

[ Drake is clearly in La-La-Land. Launchpad gives him a worried look. The conversation is interrupted by beeping from Gosalyn's watch. She looks down, and gasps.]

Gosalyn: Oh, shoot! I totally forgot about hockey practice! If we don't hoof it now, I'll be late, and Coach will never let me hear the end of it!

[ Gosalyn looks back and forth between one of the concert doors and her watch, clearly pained at having to choose between Morgana's autograph and hockey practice. This seems to snap Drake out of his stupor. He glances over at the door, then smiles at Gosalyn.]

Drake: Well, hey! I've still got time before I have to do my [ arm over his beak, a brief Darkwing pose.] nightly adventuring, [back to normal] so why doesn't Launchpad take you to practice while I get you an autograph?

Gosalyn: [eyes widen, surprised by the offer.]  Really? You mean it?

Drake: Sure I do! We in the entertainment industry know how to talk to each other. It'd be no problem.

Gosalyn: Oh my gosh! [She leaps up into Drake's arms, hugging him around the neck. He makes a little yelp, catching her, having not expected that.] Thanks a million!

[ A pause, as Gosalyn suddenly realizes what she's doing. They both blush and smile - the whole parent/daughter dynamic is still new to them, so this affection is surprising. She has a shy but sincere laugh, and Launchpad picks her up and puts her on his shoulder.]

Launchpad: We'll see you later, Drake! Oh, and we should probably call an ambulance for that guy in the wall. Bye!

[ He and Gosalyn wave off as they exit the scene, Drake waves back. Drake walks up to the door, pauses, then smooths down his shirt, then his head feathers, and then breathes in and out, trying to psyche himself up.]

Drake: I've got this. [a pause, then with more vigor.] I've got this!

[ He puffs out his chest, then opens the door, walking in. The camera doesn't follow him at first, but there's immediately the sound of him crashing into many musical instruments as he yelps. He doesn't got this.]

-end for now

[ryttu3k]

Time for Sins of the Sires! Going to liveblog my first run here. The writer's last game emotionally ruined me so this should be interesting.

My character will be Elias Katsaros, or, essentially, AU Pyre XD Fixed computers, went dancing in clubs. Let's go with Julian as an ex! Disciplines... not seeing Blood Sorcery there. Going with Obfuscate for the first one, then Celerity, which should hopefully lead to it. Third discipline... hmm, Animalism, Auspex, Dominate, Fortitude, or Potence... fuck it, Auspex. Then Animalism. Damn this is one tanky neonate. 9 dots in disciplines already!

Oh yeah this definitely has similar vibes to Rent-a-Vice so far, writing-wise.

"No. I believe in justice, not authority." Hashtag just little Banu Haqim things.

Vole didn't laugh at, "Your pizza's here!" :(

Interesting that he came back from the Beckoning.

I love the aesthetic choices tbh. Soft goth, death metal, quirky librarian, hipster dude, indie pop rock, boho, corporate sleek, "...just, normal?". Let's go with... hipster vibes for Elias!

"But right now, you're a Hipster sipping from a blood bag like it's a goddamn artisanal coffee drink."

Persa please be nice :(

This whole situation is sad. Poor Selim and Andre.

I do like Gor. He seems to be a romance option (along with Persa and Markos, so far), although I'll just keep it relatively platonic for now.

Fuck it no matter what version Pyre's a softie. That's a Masquerade breach, probably XD;;

omg bat. Bat bat bat bat bat friend. Your name shall be Batty Koda and I shall love you <3

lmao whoops wrong choice of name XD 'Martha motions you in. "This is Elias, a friend." The stumble of hesitation before the word "friend" is almost imperceptible. "Elias, this is Elias."' Other Elias seems sweet, at least.

Elias just deathstaring the murderous seneschel godspeed bby. Oh hey, Dio looks funky but the words, "It was me, Dio!" just slammed into the side of my head.

Re: Kapriel, the Banu Haqim primogen and Gor's sire:

'Why do you have the feeling he knows you? And even more than that, that he dislikes you?

And that, maybe, you know him, too?'

I mean I am gunning for Banu Haqim. Maybe he's our sire?

Neoptolemos sounds like the kind that may turn on the Prince. Hmmm!

Oh the casual misogyny and cover-ups. FUCK HIM UP GOR.

'"I don't need you to defend me to a bunch of monsters," he spits.

The only thing that saves your relationship is how bad you actually are at diplomacy, which he finds almost endearing.'

An attempt was made XD;;

Oh boy. If the BH Primogen is our sire, I already dislike him XD;;

'Savvas smiles, showing off his bloodless gums. "First of all, I'm vegan, so cows are safe with me," he says. "But, more importantly, a cow cannot consent," he continues. "I can, and I did."'

Savvas said animal rights. Probably not so much human rights, but animal rights, at least XD;;

Poor guy :(

Ooh man. I wonder if the greyed-out options after Markos marks a blood sigil means I ended up with Banu Haqim and Elias' bane is about to kick in? Oh never mind it was a vision.

Bat baby survived <3

Usurper? :( Not the result I wanted, oh boy XD;;

Well this is fucked up! Aristovoros' cult, maybe? This is a hell of a Masquerade breach if it is.

'Quickly, you unfold the piece of paper. "Amphitryon is dead," the message reads. "Gor is wanted for murder."

> Good for Gor, if he got that asshole.'

Fuck him up bby <3

Oof. Was that a frenzy? Kicked in very... gently, hm.

Oh, hmm! Maybe siding with hunters for this ending? Elias invoked his humanity and said there were worse than him around, and offered to help work with the woman to find them. That could be interesting, actually!

Persa where the fuck are we going :|

Oh goodie they want me to kill Gor. Preeeeetty much already decided I'm Not Doing That XD;;

I s2g every time Batty Koda shows up I get anxious he's gonna get hurt ;_;

Hell yeah made it out. Kinda wonder how this'd go on a romance route, too.

'Gor hesitates, but then you see something settle inside him. He's made up his mind, and he's going to see this through. "I know who your sire is," he says. "You're not going to like it."

"Why?"

"Because I know him well. Because he's mine, too, and I know first-hand the burden of heredity."'

OH. CALLED IT. I guess each clan has a different sire option? Along with Banu Haqim, there's also Tremere, Ventrue, Malkavian, or Thinblood; not sure about Thinblood, but the other options may be Markos actually being your sire for Tremere, the Prince for Malkavian, or Sophia for Ventrue? "Unmask your true sire. Is it the Prince Peisistratos? One of the city's Primogen? Is it Aristovoros himself?" Hm, do we know what clan Aristovoros is?

Sibling found <3 Kinda glad didn't romance him, haha. I'm liking the familial vibe, honestly. On our way out of Greece, with our sibling and bat friend!

Aaand it's our sire. Time to run away!

Interesting, seems like we're officially going to affiliate with the Anarchs?

Mm. Not great circumstances. I'm noting some interesting themes along the same lines of Rent-a-Vice, here - agency and having the ability to choose your own bad choices. There, it's the Feeders; here, the ghouls.

Hey this guy is a dick :( (Also, Gor? Definitely the MVP, and I totally want him to meet Raul.)

...augh :( Gor dies defending Elias. Elias escorted back to Athens to be sacrificed. Okay this isn't good.

Hm! Okay, so that sire option is definitely. Not an option lmao

Okay that plan didn't go so well. Got chills at the Beast speaking.

Persa's letter ;_;

That was a ride! Lots more achievements and endings and paths to do, but that's the first playthrough done!

[pillage-and-lute]

Witcher Characters as Queer Coded Outfits/Vibes

Yennefer: Suit with a lacy bralette under the jacket. Bold lip, bisexual panic

Jaskier: Hawaiian shirt. The ugliest you’ve ever seen. So many rings. Putting the pan into panic

Geralt: Black. Black leather jacket, black leather pants, docs. ‘goths don’t sweat they simmer’ vibes. Black iced coffe that doesn’t help the ‘i thought I was straight I’m bi’ panic

Eskel: button up short sleeved shirt. Jorts. Trans and calm. Wears the only braincell like a badge. Tiny itty bitty goat.

Lambert: spf 115 (redhead) also a ‘black only’ outfit gay. Gay panic for the pretty boy with the green eyes. Starbucks Pink drink. 

Aiden: (pretty boy with green eyes) very tiny shorts,e mesh shirt. glitter eyeliner baseball bat with nails in, manic grin. Tongue piercing. induces panic in other people

Coen: Beefcake with a hipster beard/mustache combo. Very dapper. Suit but he’s holding the jacket and his sleeves are rolled up and the tie is loose. The waistcoat stays ON during everything.

Letho: Jeans, t shirt, feather boa. Got a kiss from a drag queen and is questioning everything. Starbucks Lavender Drink

Triss: Cottagecore plant mom with a swishy skirt and a nice cardigan. Dirty converse. Useless lesbian panic because Yennefer is in a suit and she looks so good.

Borch: All gold three piece suit. Gold top hat with an ace pride flag stuck in the band. Starbucks Dragon Drink. 

Vesemir: ‘The first pride was a riot’ t shirt. Older punk vibes with bondage trousers. One pierced ear. Black Coffee.

Ciri: Baby gay in a rainbow t shirt, watched over carefully by overprotective mom, dads, uncles, and grandad.

[hallowedconjurationsshop]

Lio the Caramel Bat Shifter {Banshee}

Nickname: Lio

Species: Caramel Bat Shifter

Pronouns: he/him

Gender: male

Alignment: light

Favorite color: blues, grays

Favorite animal: (while in human form) dogs. (while in bat form) bats

Favorite song: Holy Ghost by BORNS 

Likes: Music, coffee, bubble tea, hanging out at cafes, technology, writing in his notebook, helping people, loves a good to-do list.

Dislikes: slurping noises, homophobia, has a really specific dislike for the way Boomers use ellipsis (...)  

Sexuality: Gay

Personality:  Lio is very laid back, but also enthusiastic about helping others. He likes organization, and looking at the bright side of things. He’s generally a go getter, and is able to help the people around him make plans for their future and get through any tough patches. He’s generally pretty private but wants to have a close enough relationship with his companion that they can talk about all sorts of things.  He is very grounded, and able to de-escalate anxiety or extreme nerves. He’s very cool, calm, and collected.  

Physical Description: He is 5′5″ with black hair, green eyes, and tan skin. In his human form he looks like he is of South Asian descent, with warm, almond shaped eyes. His body would be lovingly described as “soft boi.” He is healthy and fit, but is not chiseled and has a soft tummy and gives amazing hugs. 

He has a silver hoop septum piercing, likes to wear beanies and plaids, and is a self-affirmed “hipster.” He always has his messenger bag with his laptop, tablet, and over the ear headphones that are often around his neck when he’s not listening to music. He is usually in jeans, a plain t-shirt with a plaid thrown over and and wears worn vans or converse. 

When he’s in bat form, he has caramel colored wings (hence why he’s a caramel bat shifter) and is a small bat that eats fruits and insects. 

Companion requirements: Lio is beginner friendly! He’d love a close friend, especially someone who would like a guardian type relationship. He really loves helping people and one of his magical specialties is navigating darkness, depression, and anxiety. Note: Lio’s companionship is NOT a replacement for professional medical advice. He and Hallowed Conjurations cannot diagnose, treat, or prescribe any medical conditions. He is just able to be a friend and cannot professionally help or treat you.  

He doesn’t mind a slightly larger family - he has a pretty big birth family and is ok with navigating that, but no more than 100 members, himself included. 

To communicate he prefers shufflemancy, one on one in the astral, or tarot/oracle.

Background Info: Caramel bats are a clan of shifters. Caramel comes from the color of their wings. Each tribe has a different color “flavor,” if you will.

The bats are similar to bats in the human realm. Most have 4 eyes instead of 2, and are usually around 5 lbs in weight and have a wingspan of 3-4 feet.

Many times they eat fruits, vegetables, insects. Occasionally various tribes eat other things.

Caramel bats are from warmer climates, their caramel coloring due to the sunlight warming and lightening their fur.

Vessel Requirements: Lio would love a vessel if his companion would like one - it isn’t required, but can be an option. If his future companion would like a vessel then he would like it to be something tech related (the loveable geek that he is), think an earbud case, a phone case, a watch, computer/laptop, mouse etc. 

If you would like to apply for Lio you can apply for him here

[river-bottom-nightmare]

Tim wearing glasses would include:

tim unnecessarily pushing his glasses higher on his nose whenever kon gets him flustered

jason constantly plucking them off his face bc he likes being a little shit and holding them above his head while tim growls at him to give them back

tim’s glasses fogging up the first time him and kon made out in one of bruce’s cars

dick constantly reminding tim to clean his glasses bc they’re all smudged and there’s no way he’ll be able to see but tim never ever listens

kon running his hands through tim’s hair bc its really soft and getting kinda long and he loves to play with it but he accidentally runs his hands too close to tim’s ears and knocks the glasses off instead

the night before tim’s birthday one year damian stole them and splattered the frames and rims with paint and put them back before tim woke up and when tim found out he loved it like seriously they used to be plain practical black but now it looks so cool

kon pouting when tim removes his glasses when things start to get a little heated because tim’s all like “remember what happened last time?” and kon’s like “but you looked hot in them”

tim giving in every once and a while and keeping his glasses on while they have sex because 1) he actually likes to be able to see what’s happening and B) he really likes seeing the wild look in kon’s eyes while he wears them

steph steals his glasses and proclaims very very loudly “oh my god tim you’re blind”

kon hiding tim’s contacts on purpose so he has to wear his glasses bc he looks cute in them

whenever tim just forgets to wear his glasses and walks around the manor seeing everything as vaguely fuzzy coloured shapes and doesn’t feel like actually putting in the effort to put them on cass always finds them and slides them on his face for him

tim cursing when his glasses get broken but it’s cool because kon just uses ttk to fix them hush its totally possible the strength of ttk knows no limits and one day he convinces kon to say “oculus repairo” before mending the broken glass and it makes tim laugh so hard he cries and kon doesn’t understand until during young justice movie night they watch harry potter and kon gives tim the biggest bitch face ever

bruce has like a thousand spares for tim’s glasses when he’s not with his friends bc goddamn that boy breaks them far too much and unfortunately no one in the family has powers to fix them

after that one birthday, every time tim breaks his glasses and gets new ones he puts them in damians room. the next morning without fail they show up on his desk all paint splattered. theres a different colour combination or design every time

tim passing out doing research or casework and his glasses riding up crookedly on his face and kon removing them gently (but not before taking a pic)

every time bart whooshes around somewhere the force of it and the gust of wind from it either mess tim’s glasses up on his face or knock them clean off and tim always gets super annoyed, but bart thinks its funny and does it as often as he can

kon massaging the little impressions of tim’s glasses on the bridge of his nose after a long day

cassie sometimes tucking flowers into tim’s glasses when she can bc it looks cool and tim always complaining that he’s not a hipster, cassie but secretly he also thinks it looks cool

kon also stealing tim’s glasses sometimes and trying them on and sometimes he looks super cute and tim just wants to boop his nose and other times he looks so fucking hot tim immediately starts taking his clothes off growling “bedroom now.”

whenever tim looses his glasses, alfred will always find them

kon staying over a night after a particularly exhausting mission and when they get to one of their bedrooms they just collapse in it and go to sleep and kon carefully removes tim’s glasses to set them on the nightstand before kissing tim goodnight and wrapping him in his arms

guys i’m such a sucker for tim wearing glasses its my new favourite thing oh my gOD ITS ADORABLE AND CUTE AND AHHHHHHHHHHHH

tag list:  @comicsandhoney @birdy-bat-writes @elles-shitposts-personified @subtleappreciation @screennamealreadyused @pricetagofficial @catxsnow @astroherogirl @yesboopityboop @dangerduckjpe

[wenttworth]

yes i am aware that the little red cabin is a fake diner but i wanted a fuckign frasier reference in here (this is nsfw)

yes this is the spotify playlist love confession fic

secrets stolen

The unconscionable secret that Richie hid (other than the being attracted to men thing) was that he was a morning person.

Eddie understood why he hid that particular secret. It didn't fit the frat boy image, it didn't fit the more recent joking about depression image, and Eddie had been violently against Richie waking him up early since they were pre-teens, before sharing a bed became weird.

The door banged open violently, waking Eddie from a deep and dreamless sleep, and he yelled as Richie competed with the volume to also yell, “Up and at 'em, baby!” and the entire situation was confusing and vaguely threatening until they both quieted down, whereupon Richie let out an ungainly snort.

“Ok, now I understand why you shellac your hair to your head,” Richie said, and Eddie shot a look at the floor-to-ceiling mirror next to his bed. It was a fair observation; the curls on the left side of his head were flattened to his skull and on the right were sticking up as if he'd put his finger in a plug.

“Urgh,” Eddie complained, falling back against his pillows.

“Oh no you don't. We need to hit the road, daddy-o,” he quipped in some vaguely 50s hipster voice.

Eddie lifted his head just to carefully enunciate “Urgh,” as clearly as he could, and pulled the cover over his head as if that would do anything.

He could almost hear Richie's brain clicking through the options, and heard him take in an exaggerated breath, before shouting, “EddieEddieEddieEddie,” over and over in a high, trilling, and disturbing voice.

Unbelievable. His methods hadn't changed one iota since they were teenagers. “Oh my god, Richie, my neighbours are going to kill me,” he insisted, but Richie just grabbed his legs and shook them. “I. Hate. You,” Eddie countered, kicking out at him, feeling vaguely guilty when he caught him in the stomach, and the guilt immediately washing away when Richie called him a little turd.

The worst part was that Eddie couldn't have kept the laugh down or held back the grin if he'd even tried, so there was no way Richie was going to let up. “Fine!” he exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air. “I'm up, I'm up, remind me why I let you have a key again?”

“Because, and I quote, 'You'll have to get me up early, Richie, because I'm a pissy little freak in the morning'.”

Eddie glowered. “My voice is not that high.”

He sighed when Richie grinned, left eye squinting a little more than the right in that way that was effortlessly charming. “Come on, Eds, we gotta go.” He reached over and tugged a curl that was probably sticking up like an antenna. “You have five minutes to sort out whatever it is your hair is doing.”

“Fine. Take my bags down to the car.”

Richie batted his eyelashes. “Yes, princess.”

“Fuck off.”

-

Eddie still made Richie wait longer, there was no way he was getting into a car for that long without showering beforehand, and Richie had retaliated by moving most of the furniture in his living room a few inches towards the kitchen. He insisted he hadn't, but Eddie had heard the scraping of furniture against the hardwood when he was getting dressed, and had walked right into the coffee table, plus Richie had been lightly out of breath whilst trying very hard to appear casual lounging on the sofa. He finally followed Richie out to where his car was parked.

“Bill made me promise not to murder you,” he said once he'd settled into the passenger seat.

“Uh-huh,” Richie said non-committally.

“He said Stan's missed you a lot.”

“Sure, sure,” he continued vaguely, looking at his blindspot before pulling out.

“So I'm thinking I'll murder you once you've driven me home? Could we do it in the bathroom? I think it'll be easier to clean the blood in there.”

“Nuh-uh,” Richie said. “If you're gonna murder me, I want something tender and intimate.”

“What?”

“Strangulation,” he said decisively. “There's something very romantic about someone being strangled to death.”

“What?”

“You brought it up!”

“I was thinking straight up murder not...homoerotic strangulation,” Eddie said, before cackling loudly.

“Is this what they mean when they talk about the gays being more theatrical? I think so,” Richie said to himself, which just made Eddie laugh harder.

“Fine. Even if I just stab you—”

“Fucking basic, Eds.”

“Don't call me that. I'll try to make it romantic.”

“That's all I ask.”

Eddie let the giggles die down, watching the city bustle past. It was a far cry from the drives to Allentown to visit Myra's sister, becoming tense and twitchy in preparation a week in advance as Myra started reminding him of all the car crash statistics she'd pulled out of her own ass. They would usually split the drive too, but he couldn't rest when Myra was driving, sitting ramrod straight, eyes darting everywhere for all the imagined dangers.

He eyed Richie where he was slouched against the back of the seat, one hand on the steering wheel. His arms were bare, and Eddie stared hard at the tendons in his wrist, oddly delicate compared to his square hands and the thick hair on his forearms. The hair was dark, except where the light hit it at the right angle and the individual hairs turned golden where they haloed his arms.

Eddie swallowed the saliva that had filled his mouth, turning to face the window again. Best not to think about it.

“You checked the hygiene rating for the hotel, right?” he asked for, to be fair to Richie, the dozenth time when the road offered no genuine distraction.

To be even more fair to Richie, he didn't needle Eddie for asking again. “Yeah, Eds. Top marks,” and smiled gently when he caught Eddie's eye. Which didn't help with the whole. Uh. Situation Eddie was going through. Eddie smiled back, before burrowing deeper into his jumper and closing his eyes.

He woke with a start over Goethals Bridge to Richie humming under his breath, tapping lightly on his thigh, and somehow keeping his cool through New York traffic. “You know you still talk in your sleep?” he said when Eddie stretched his back, waiting for the pop in his spine and sighing when he got it.

“No,” Eddie said, and Richie grinned.

“I mean, I wouldn't worry about spilling your secrets. It's always complete nonsense. It's just. Weird, you know? How some things are exactly the same.”

When Richie had left Derry at sixteen he'd been all limbs, gangly and uncoordinated and stretched like a beanpole. Pretty far from the wide shoulders and chest and thick thighs that Eddie had a hard time looking away from. But that left eye that squinted a little more than the right, his honking laugh when Eddie caught him off-guard, every third word out of his mouth being specially curated to drive Eddie insane in all manner of ways...that was Richie through and through.

“It would have sucked if we were unrecognisable,” Eddie said. He bit his tongue against the next words.

The fact was, Eddie didn't see much of himself in the child that he had been. He'd been wild and loud, sure, but he'd also had a streak of kindness that Eddie as an adult found difficult to achieve even when he tried. He'd seen the ways Richie had eyed him when he was sharp to service workers, or even in the way he'd talk about Myra sometimes. It didn't bear imagining what was running through Richie's head, unswervingly kind as he was. There was only so much Eddie could pin to trauma, much less when comparing to someone who had been through the same shit he had.

“I'm, like, dying of boredom right now,” Richie finally said. “Could you put some music on? My phone is in the glove compartment.”

Eddie hummed, digging through the compartment—“Jesus, do you ever empty this thing? Why do you have five notebooks in here?”—until he found the phone. The lock screen was a picture of the two of them with Bev, her fire-red head tucked under Richie's chin. Eddie was staring at Richie with a grin and eyes that were far too soft.

Eddie cleared his throat, checking that Richie wasn't looking at him and therefore seeing just how hard Eddie was blushing. “What's your code?”

“Uh...” Richie's face went blank. “Huh. 1102.”

Eddie blinked. “Really? My birthday?”

“Yeah. It's uh...it's been my go to for years. Only just realised why.”

Now Richie was blushing, and it was all too much, so Eddie just punched in the code and connected the phone to bluetooth, finding Spotify in the mess of apps that was Richie's home screen. At least the home screen was a picture of Stan with the baby, so no more reasons for silently freaking out.

“What do you want to listen to? I've been listening to a medical history podcast—”

Richie burst out laughing, and loudly complained when Eddie swiped at his arm. “Music, please, Eddie. I'd rather not fall asleep at the wheel.”

“Fine,” Eddie grumbled, tapping on the playlists in the hope of finding something 70s in his collection.

He shuffled a playlist that looked promising, before swiping back again, and pausing.

Pretty innocently, sat underneath a Fleetwood Mac mix, was a playlist titled 'eds <3'.

Probably nothing. Probably. Richie had spent most of their teenage years together throwing mixtapes at his head, even gave him his walkman. He loved helping Eddie rebel, and Sonia would have shit puppies if she knew that Eddie was listening to popular music. From admitting at eleven that he had no idea who this 'Blondie' person was to five years later when Richie left Derry and didn't look back, Richie was making Eddie mixtapes. Not just him, Stan was a frequent recipient. Ben got a few comedic ones that had only NKOTB—as if he didn't already own all their music—Bill got some when he admitted missing his mother playing the piano. Things like that were how Richie showed his very platonic, very friendly love for them all.

Still. That heart.

He tapped on the playlist. Time After Time. Lovesong. Friday I'm in Love. Hopelessly Devoted to You. Songbird.

Okay. A little more damning.

In all, almost 4 hours of love songs. He swiped back, forcing himself to breathe as slowly and carefully as he could.

It could be a coincidence. It really could. Richie was charming, handsome, and steadfastly good. Nothing like Eddie.

“You better not be texting Taylor Swift,” Richie said lightly.

Eddie blinked, locked the phone and put it back in the glove compartment. “You have Taylor Swift's number?”

Richie shrugged. “Yeah?”

Eddie frowned. “I didn't think you were quite that level of famous.”

By the time they got to the hotel, Eddie was cramped from being sat in the car all day with only the brief lunch break they had taken, and bored because Richie had passed out as soon as he got into the passenger seat for the second half of the drive. Eddie shook him awake when they entered Richmond so he could direct Eddie to the hotel, but he could feel just how short he was being with Richie. Which wasn't fair in the slightest, Richie had been almost perfect as a road trip companion, and right now he was living teenage Eddie's dream.

Teenage Eddie, however, definitely hadn't been aware that the vague longing for Richie's attention to be on him and only him was a symptom of his crush. And he definitely didn't think anything about the scattering of love songs that were on every mixtape Richie made him. People always sang about love. It was one of the easiest things to write about. He'd also put the Spiderman theme on one.

No. He couldn't say anything. He couldn't bear the short, surprised laugh as Richie said, “No, it was just a random collection of letters,” or “Actually I'm dating someone who I also call Eds because their name is Edmund/Edith or WHATEVER,” or the most damning, “Sure, Eddie, I loved you when we were kids, but I also saw you mutter 'about fucking time' when the waitress brought our drinks to us a few minutes late and frankly, you're no longer the boy I fell in love with.”

He was relieved to collapse in his room, knowing that Richie was a couple of floors away, do those stupid deep breathing exercises that his therapist tried to get him to do rather than spiral, and when that didn't work, stepped into the shower and systematically scrubbed every part of his body until it was pink and tingling from the abuse.

The worst part was, who could he talk to? If it was anything else, he would be barging into Richie's room with a loud, “You won't fucking believe this,” and go through the whole sordid tale, guiltily taking the chance to brace himself against Richie's shoulder and feel the laugh shake it, talk shit about it until he managed to convince himself that there was no point driving home or going back to his own hotel room.

Eddie pressed his pillow against his face when he made it back to the bed, and loudly yelled “Fuck!” into it.

-

Richie got him up just as early the next day, though Eddie didn't subject him to the same theatrics. He let Richie flop heavily onto his bed when Eddie got up to shower. He had only thrown on some sweatpants for the night, and surreptitiously watched to see if Richie would ogle him, but he just looked down at his phone with a furrow between his brows.

No, look at me, he thought inexplicably. Well. Alright, he'd had that thought a lot, both when they were kids and now. Just never specifically in such a context, never specifically look at my body.

Eddie had worked hard for the body he had, and he was proud of that work. Sure, the scar was a bit grim, but Richie had been the one in the hospital that had insisted the scar couldn't be ugly, because it was proof that Eddie had survived something that would have killed anyone else. He'd been so sincere, watching Eddie carefully with a hand on his shoulder that had only dropped when Eddie had looked away and said...something. He couldn't quite remember, the morphine had been pretty constant at that time.

He put the music back on when they were in the car again, steadfastly ignoring The Playlist, and settled in to nap the few hours Richie was driving.

He woke up a couple of hours later, better rested and switched the playlist to something more upbeat to wake up properly before eyeing Richie, who was still as relaxed as the day before. There was a curl falling over his temple, caught under the arm of his glasses. Eddie's fingers twitched.

“Did I talk any more shit?” he asked to distract himself.

Richie let out a surprised laugh. “No, Eds. Not whilst you were unconscious, at least.”

Fuck it. He reached over and pulled at the curl so it wasn't trapped. Richie jolted but didn't react otherwise. After a second he gave a small, self-conscious chuckle. “Yeah, I know it's too long.”

Eddie paused. “Who said that? Your hair's fine as it is.”

His teeth worried at his bottom lip and Eddie saw him look over from the corner of his eye. The relaxation was slowly sapping away, and he put both hands on the steering wheel in what must be an unprecedented first.

Fuck. Maybe he should have thought that through. He wracked his brain desperately for something to talk about, but it was filled only with variations of 'eds' and '<3' and '????'. He couldn't wait to finally have Stan and Patty and the baby as a buffer.

“Didn't we plan a roadtrip when we were kids?” Eddie finally blurted out in sheer desperation.

“Yeah.” Richie was quiet for a minute. “We were gonna drive to LA for college.”

And then Richie's parents had moved them out to Chicago and Eddie had waited with a sinking heart for the promised call and letters that never came. Fuck. Wrong topic to choose.

Traitorously, his mouth continued without him. “Where do you think we'd be now if we'd managed it?”

Richie looked at him warily before turning back to the road. “What do you want me to say, Eddie?” he asked, almost too quiet for Eddie to hear him over the hum of the engine.

“What? I don't want you to say anything.”

Richie just hummed, but his lips were pressed tightly together.

“What do you want to say?” Eddie continued, in that oh-so-charming way he had of barging into people's sharp edges only to cut himself.

Richie was silent for a whole song, before he muttered, “I need a piss,” and Eddie crossed his arms over his chest. He wasn't completely sure what he'd stumbled onto, but whatever it was was dangerous ground.

He tucked his legs up when Richie had parked and left the car, pressing his forehead to his knees. He'd spent most of his childhood in a similar position, blocking out his mother and the leftover fear from the clown and the interminable belief that there was something deeply and fundamentally wrong with him whenever his stomach squirmed when he saw Bill or Richie do something brave, or reckless, respectively. It got to the point that the others barely reacted when he curled up in that way. God knew they all had weird coping methods. Richie would take the opportunity to be more obnoxious to make Eddie laugh, but other than that...

The door opened, and Richie sighed. “Come on, Eds. Stop spiralling.”

Eddie just whined into the space between his chest and thighs, but jolted when a hand pinched his cheek, just hard enough to sting a little. Richie was grinning when Eddie batted at him furiously, though he did hold on for a second longer than he had to once he'd finally grabbed Richie's hand to pull it away from his face. He lowered his legs back to the floor and shoved Richie's hand in the direction of the steering wheel.

“I guess now isn't the time to say that I didn't wash my hands?”

“What the fuck?” Eddie screeched, pawing in his bag for gel disinfectant as Richie honked his ridiculous laugh and insisted that he was kidding.

Eddie managed to chill out by the time they stopped for lunch at a Little Red Cabin, just in time physically block Richie from sitting at the table until he'd thoroughly cleaned it with a disinfecting wipe and hand gel. He took the oven baked chips, the same as he had last time and nibbled at them, uninspired, almost coveting the burger Richie had ordered.

But, no. Who fucking knew how they cooked the meat here. He'd already asked Stan to make something delicious for tonight to make up for clearly defrosted oven chips twice in two days, he only had to last another four hours of driving before he could finally try the dishes he so proudly displayed in the Losers' group chat.

Speaking of...he dug out his phone to go to the group chat, scrolling through the pictures of Laika that Ben had posted, Bev's rambling messages about every thought she had, Mike's overexposed beach photos. Stan had posted a message the day before about how excited he was that Eddie and Richie were on their way, and Eddie reacted with a heart. He finished by snapping a picture of Richie leaning back and looking out of the window next to their booth, a small smile hovering over his lips that made him look almost painfully handsome. He sent the picture with a short message, 'he's still alive for now'. They didn't have to know that Eddie had immediately hooked his ankle around Richie's as soon as they'd sat down. That was just for him and Richie.

“Do you want a coffee, Eds?” Richie asked.

“Yeah, please,” Eddie said. He took in the general dilapidated state of the diner and pulled a face. “No milk. I don't trust it.” Richie nudged his ankle under the table and got up to order the coffee, and Eddie did his best to ignore the swoop in his stomach.

Back on the road, Eddie found himself relaxing into the drive. He was good at driving, he was confident. It was the kind of freedom that he had longed for as a child as Sonia found excuse after excuse to not allow him to practise or take lessons or find a job which would allow for him to fund it himself. Myra meanwhile, relied on him to drive his fair share, but filled his every thought with statistics to make him scared to deviate even by the smallest amount. Richie was chilled out, choosing more and more obnoxious music and watching with a delighted grin as Eddie good naturedly fought back, yelling at him through laughter and chopping at the air to really hammer home his arguments. Most importantly, it was fun. This was the reason they decided to drive instead of fly down to see Stan, they enjoyed spending time together.

God, at least, Eddie hoped so. It had been his idea to add a road trip to the beginning and the end of visiting Stan. Fuck, Eddie really hoped Richie hadn't just accepted because he felt like he had to humour the guy who had asked him to stay in New York until he was healed up and just...never told him when he was well enough to not need help.

Eddie had no self control. Within seconds, he blurted out, “Are you having fun?”

Richie blinked at him. “What? Yes, you fucking weirdo.”

He winced at the same time Eddie did. “Fuck, sorry, Eddie. Yeah, I am. This was kind of the dream when we were kids, right? I mean, west instead of south, but you know what I mean.”

“You wanted to go to the mustard museum,” Eddie suddenly recalled with a snort.

“I think I found a hole called,” he started laughing before he could finish, but Eddie just about made out the garbled 'the Devil's asshole' through his cackles.

Eddie wrinkled his nose, trying to pretend that he wasn't starting to laugh too. “Not in a million years, Richie, we've met a devil, I don't want to think about—” he broke off when Richie pressed his hands to his face to muffle his laughter, his eyes off the road for way too long as he watched his shoulders shake under a hideous green and orange shirt, the sun lighting his curls. He'd started to go grey at the temples before Eddie had met him again, and Eddie didn't want to miss a single additional hair go grey. Oh, he thought. I'm in love with him, aren't I?

He just hadn't expected love to feel so easy. With Myra, it had evidently been non-existent, but she had loved watching stories with dramatic declarations. All I burn, I pine, I perish. Well, maybe he burned and pined enough, but there was no perishing to be found. In fact, he felt deliriously alive.

He turned back to the road, jerkily righted the course of the car.

“Well, no more worrying about Pennywise's asshole!” Richie said gleefully.

“Oh my God,” Eddie complained.

“We killed that bitch dead,” he continued smugly.

The scar gave a phantom ache, from the part of his lung that was missing, or the reconstructed part of his ribcage, or maybe just from the memory of Richie's desperate, pleading expression when Pennywise had skewered him.

Eddie took a deep breath, feeling as wild and reckless as a child. He lowered all the windows so the wind whipped through the car deafeningly. He accelerated, until he was well past the speed limit, memorising Richie's surprised bark of laughter. “We killed that bitch dead!” he yelled, and Richie only laughed harder and joined in Eddie's whooping and hollering, every cry a confession of I love you, I love you, I love you.

-

As with any reunion between the Losers, it was loud and excitable and filled Eddie with so much love he could burst. Richie had immediately leapt out of the car to gather Stan in his arms and spin him round, and Stan clutched at his shoulders, trying to keep stern but a smile breaking out when Richie smacked a loud kiss on his cheek. Though not quite as exuberant, Eddie more than made up for it with just how tightly he hugged him. Stan was only an inch or so taller than him, the perfect height for hugging.

By the time Eddie and Stan let go of each other, Richie had already taken his and Eddie's bags out of the car, and followed Stan up the driveway to the pretty house set far back from the road. He refused to let Eddie take any of the bags even as Eddie squabbled with him.

“Patty will be back with Rebecca in a couple of hours,” Stan said, the same dopey smile on his face that was always there when he spoke of his family. “Eddie, did you want the guest bedroom with the en suite?” he continued, gesturing up the stairs.

“Please,” Eddie said, finally managing to wrestle one of his bags from Richie. He followed Stan up the stairs.

“Fresh towels are on the bed. It's not too warm, so Richie and I will probably be on the porch if you want to take a shower now.”

“Thanks, Stan,” he sighed. Stan left the room, and Eddie washed the rest of the journey off his skin, feeling both calmer and more awake when he finished. He changed into a soft t-shirt that he had absolutely stolen from Richie at some point and shorts to beat the heat which, although Stan had talked about as if it were mild, was stifling compared to New York.

Stan and Richie were on the porch, thankfully enclosed with mosquito netting so it still caught a light breeze but wouldn't result in Eddie being eaten alive by insects, and stopped talking when Eddie approached. Richie took a large gulp of beer, his cheeks a little pink, and Eddie considered him for a moment. Surely, he wasn't getting sunburn? They were in the shade, and they hadn't left the windows open that long in the car. He chewed on his bottom lip as he accepted the beer that Richie offered him. “Make sure you put sunscreen on tomorrow,” he finally said, nudging him gently with an elbow. He turned back to Stan, folded his legs up next to him and leant against Richie's arm, before effortlessly falling into conversation with them both.

As Stan had said, Patty and Rebecca were back soon, and Richie jostled Eddie as he jumped up to help Patty with her bags, easily chatting with her and finally taking Rebecca from her to jostle her in his arms and make her giggle at him. Eddie couldn't look away. He was so radiant his eyes almost ached looking at him.

“So what's new with you, Eddie?” Stan asked wryly.

Eddie blinked, tearing his gaze from Richie and frowning at Stan. “I said. Divorce got finalised. PT is torture. Uh. Considering what the next steps are for the company.”

“Yeah?” he said mildly. “That all?”

Eddie opened his mouth, shut it, shook his head, and took another beer.

Being a particular lightweight, he was just that pleasant hint of tipsy where physical touch felt like heaven, so when Richie approached, placing Rebecca in Stan's arms with a final kiss on her cheek, he pressed against Richie's side again, his legs on the seat so his knees were tucked against Richie's thigh. Stan was staring at Richie, but Eddie refused to acknowledge their obvious silent conversation. Thankfully, Rebecca started garbling at Richie, and his attention switched to her, answering her as if she were actually talking to him.

“Finally met someone who can keep up with you?” Eddie said, riding another wave of bravery by tracing the tips of his fingers against Richie's bicep.

Richie smiled, but didn't look at him, instead asking Patty, sat next to Stan, about work.

Fuck. He always had to push it too far, didn't he? He took his hand away, balling it into a fist and trying his best to ignore the hot pit of shame in the pit of his stomach and burning his throat. He kept his eyes fixed on Stan's shin rather than anywhere near his eyes as he surreptitiously shifted away from Richie, missing the touch already for a couple of seconds before Richie shifted too so they were once again sat pressed against one another.

Eddie furrowed his brow and did his best to join the conversation again.

They stayed up late, though Eddie was careful not to drink any more. Richie was the same, only having one more beer before switching to water for their meal, and Eddie was sure he spent much of the night observing Eddie, though every time Eddie tried to catch his eye he resolutely kept his eye on Stan or Rebecca or Patty.

Why Eddie had wanted the buffer of the Urises only 12 hours previously he couldn't understand, because right now all he wanted was for Richie to be alone with him, so he had no choice but to look at him.

At least not really talking to each other meant that he didn't have to remember not to shout or yell at Richie and wake up Rebecca once she'd been put down for the night. Stan had given them several threats over the past few weeks about what exactly he would do to them if they woke up his baby, and Eddie had no doubt he would follow through.

Finally, Richie stretched, sending Eddie into a wild tailspin of vaguely horny thoughts at the sight of his shirt riding up and revealing the trail of hair that lead to his dick. “Okay, I think I'll turn in,” he said. He finally looked at Eddie full on for what felt like the first time in months. Eddie waited for him to do something, but he just blinked and went pink. “Uh. Night.”

“Night, Richie,” Stan said mildly. Patty echoed him. Eddie quietly fumed.

“I think I'll head up too,” Patty said.

“Okay, babylove,” Stan said with hopeless affection.

Eddie stuck his tongue out at the floor and wished Richie was there so he could do it at him instead. Babylove. Really.

He eyed Stan, and Stan smiled. “Don't look at me like that, I've heard the kind of shit Richie calls you.”

“Not the same,” he grunted.

“I guess. You want another beer?”

Smug bastard. “No,” Eddie grumbled, glowering in the general direction of Stan's knees.

Stan snorted. “Alright. Well. I love you, Eds, but I'm going to join my wife.”

Eddie gave a heavy sigh, accepted the kiss Stan dropped on the top of his head, and let him go upstairs to be stupid happy and heterosexual with his wife. Well. Maybe not heterosexual, he'd seen the way he used to look at Mike when they were kids. But still.

He stood up, hands on his hips, and paced from one end of the porch to the other. It was fifteen steps from one side to the other, and it was not enough to calm the jittering energy running through his limbs, the bone deep need to be touched.

“Fuck,” he finally said. Quietly, but with feeling. Definitely with feeling.

He grabbed his phone from where he'd discarded it on the low table, went onto Spotify, and searched through the catalogue. Only four songs, enough for what he wanted to say. He only recognised one of them, but whatever. That wasn't the important part.

He named the playlist, and with his heart pounding in his throat, hard enough that he could see his breast jolting with the beat, he sent the link to Richie.

The read receipt popped up within seconds, and the ellipsis popped up and disappeared several times as Eddie ran through every possible scenario. He was a good runner. He could probably make it to New York if he really tried.

A message finally came through, and Eddie narrowly avoided pitching his phone to the other side of the porch. He sank to the floor on wobbly knees.

'What the fuck?'

Oh. Well, that was that. He wondered if Richie would let him get a change of clothes from the room without trying to talk to him. Or at least his running shoes.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, the worst part was that Richie was still his best friend outside of all of that. He didn't want to lose him.

'Eddie, seriously, you can't just drop that and not say anything else'

Eddie took a second to yell into a sofa cushion.

'I heard that'

“Oh goddammit,” he said, before taking a breath.

'I saw the playlist on your spotify'

'what playlist?'

'eds <3 ?'

'oh. fuck.ok?'

'? you can read the name of my playlist right. And the songs?'

He tapped through to the playlist again to check. Title: richie <3, song list: I'm In Love; With You; Too; Dipshit. All what he'd planned.

'yes?it's not subtle eds'

'I didn't want it to be subtle!'

'for fucks sake eddie just come up here'

“Oh fuck that,” Eddie said loudly.

“Whatever it is, will you two please keep it down?” Stan called out.

There was nothing more from Richie, and Eddie was either getting tunnel vision or passing out, before a Spotify link popped up on the chat. He tapped it in trepidation and blinked at the three songs: Get Up; Here; NOW and barked out a laugh that he immediately tried to smother lest Stan decide he'd had enough.

Okay. That was fair. He slowly crept into the house, shut the door as quietly as possible, went up the stairs at a snail's pace, and almost gave in and hid downstairs again when he saw Richie leaning against the door of his room, his face lit up by his phone screen.

Why did he think this was a good idea. This was a terrible idea.

“Hi,” he said breathlessly. Richie raised an eyebrow, and from behind the master bedroom door, Stan cackled loudly.

“They are entertaining, aren't they?” he heard Patty say, and Richie's mouth twitched into a grin as Eddie pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes, and gathered the strength to push into Richie's room.

“Listen, if you're going to tell me that the playlist was for someone else or that you don't actually feel that way about me, or whatever, just do it quickly and let me get my running shoes so I can leave with some dignity,” Eddie said in a single breath. Richie stared at him with his mouth open. “Richie, I'm kind of in agony right now,” Eddie begged.

“I...” Richie paused and swallowed, and Eddie did his best to ignore that his eyes were burning, that there was no way he would leave this room without crying. Probably sobbing.

“Fuck. Okay, I'm sorry, I just...thought...but, listen, Richie, we can still be friends, right? That's the most important thing.”

“Eddie, just. Give me a minute, okay?”

The burn in his eyes finally overflowed, and he turned away rather than let Richie see him.

“Eds, I...I didn't think you felt that way?”

“What?” Eddie barked, still facing the wall. He could maintain at least some anger if he didn't have to look at Richie.

“In the hospital you...you pushed me away. You told me to stop, I...” he trailed off. “I thought you didn't feel the same way.”

Eddie frowned, trying to remember. He remembered parts, being prodded and poked and Richie always there. “Richie,” he turned back to him. Oh. Richie's eyes were wet. “I barely remember anything about the hospital. I just know that I was so fucking out of it on morphine, plus all the withdrawal symptoms from the bullshit medicine Myra had me on. Whenever anyone touched me, it just. Burned. I could barely handle the hospital gown I was so uncomfortable. It was never about you touching me.”

Richie stared at him. “I. Oh.”

Eddie stared at him.

“I'm...?” he paused, and Eddie continued watching him. He squared his broad shoulders. “I'm in love with you, Eds.”

Eddie let out a breath. “I'm in love with you,” he said.

“Finally,” came muffled through the wall, and Eddie stared in the direction of the noise.

“Jesus, how thin are these walls?” Richie complained.

“My room's a bit further away from them,” Eddie said, and immediately blushed deep red. Goddammit. He was suddenly acting like a virgin.

Richie nodded, eyes as wide as saucers, and followed when Eddie took his hand and led him down the hall to his room. Once the door was closed he leaned against it. “Say it again,” he said.

Richie grinned, and oh, that stupidly charming, beautiful squint to his left eye, all he got out was 'I'm in...' before Eddie had taken his face in his hands and surged up to kiss him. Richie made a small noise in his throat, something plaintive and sweet that had Eddie shivering. He wanted nothing more than to hear that noise over and over.

He made a similar noise when Eddie traced his bottom lip with the tip of his tongue, again when he opened his mouth and let Eddie lick behind his teeth, again when their tongues slid against each other, slick and hot, again when Eddie dug his fingers into his hair. He almost expected it to be less thrilling with each noise, but each one was as electrifying as the first. Richie broke away from the kiss, a hitch in his breath when Eddie compensated by sucking and licking under his jaw, against the scrape of stubble from not having shaved whilst on the road. The feel of it, rough against his tongue and lips, was addictive.

“Eddie, baby, what do you want, what do you need,” Richie gasped against his cheek, and Eddie captured his mouth again, dropping his hands from his hair to slip under his shirt. The hair against his palms was just as addicting and electrifying as the stubble on his jaw. Eddie felt wilder than he had his entire life, with barely more than a kiss, and the only thing that made it okay was that Richie was exactly the same way, just as strongly affected.

“Anything, Richie, just want you,” Eddie said, his voice wrecked, and Richie gently urged him to the bed. The couple of seconds that Eddie wasn't pressed against Richie as much as he could be were torture, but his mouth went dry when Richie pulled his shirt off. He was so broad compared to Eddie, his shoulders and chest wide enough that Eddie could spend as long as he wanted pressing kisses to every centimetre of skin. There was obvious muscle, Richie was a lot stronger than he had been as a kid, had carried Eddie out of the cistern easily enough, but with a layer of softness over it that Eddie wanted to burrow into.

Richie stayed half-propped on one hand, pupils blown wide and trembling as Eddie stared at him. After a while he tentatively hooked a finger in Eddie's shirt, and Eddie complied, pulling the top off and throwing it to the side, in the vague direction of his suitcase, leaning back on his elbows and watching the way Richie's eyes darkened with a smirk. “I think I can see why you wouldn't look at me this morning,” Eddie said in a low voice. “Wouldn't have been able to mistake the way you're looking at me.”

Richie just...made him feel so confident and comfortable in his own skin. He had tried, with Myra, after Derry, but she'd been so obviously disgusted by his scar, and there had been very little apparent attraction even before. This was what it was meant to feel like, having someone look at you as if no one was more worthy of praise.

“I've never let myself really look, Eds,” he said, slowly reaching to place his hand on the starburst scar on the right side. It had caught the bottom two ribs, Richie only a fraction of a second too late to roll him entirely out of the way. In response, Eddie touched the small scar on Richie's side where Pennywise had just scraped him. It had only needed a few stitches, but it was still proof, that he had saved Eddie, that now their whole lives were both in front of and behind them. Richie leaned in and pressed his forehead to Eddie's.

“Thank you for saving me, Richie.”

Richie kissed him chastely this time, slowly and sweetly, before letting Eddie roll them over, straddling Richie's waist and savouring the stretch in his thighs as he did so. He broke away to nuzzle at his jaw, licked the sweat from the hollow of his throat, followed Richie's body down to the waistband of his sweatpants. He hooked his fingers into the fabric and shot him a look, waiting for Richie to nod before pulling it down his legs. “Are you clean?” he asked as he hovered above Richie's waist, and he nodded again, the blue of his eyes almost entirely obscured by pupil.

“Eddie...” he started, but he trailed off with a low groan when Eddie dipped his head to lick the hair low on his stomach. “Fuck, Eddie,” he said with a quiet laugh. Eddie settled more comfortably between his legs, pressing a light kiss against the inside of his knee which had him jerking. Eddie grinned against the skin—he always had been particularly ticklish there. Another few chaste kisses, moving up the inside of his thigh and memorising the texture as the skin got more delicate, memorising how Richie's reactions because sharper and his whines more desperate as Eddie slowly kissed higher. He pushed Richie's thigh aside to scrape his teeth high near the crease, waited until Richie's breath was shaky and short before he kissed the root of his dick.

He was so hard it looked painful, precome dripping down the length, and Eddie pressed open mouth, wet kisses up the side of it, training his eyes on where Richie was covering his face and muffling his whimpers against his palms.

“Maybe we should have waited to be home,” Eddie mumbled against his dick, he pulled away and Richie let out a shuddering breath.

“Huh?” he breathed.

“Don't really want to be so loud that Stan and Patty can hear us,” he mused.

Richie blinked and looked around. “Oh, yeah, we're at Stan and Patty's, aren't we?” he said, breaking into giggles that had Eddie's heart aching.

He pressed his face against Richie's crotch—little weird, maybe, but there was nowhere else he wanted to be—and muffled his own laugh against the hot skin.

“Did you...did you want to hit pause, then?” Richie asked, still breathless.

Eddie squinted up at him. “No? Do you?”

“You're the one who—” He broke off, hissing a sharp breath through his teeth when Eddie took the head of his cock into his mouth and swirled his tongue around it. “Fuck,” he said slowly, his head dropping back, and Eddie hummed around his cock.

The taste really wasn't as bad as Myra always made it out to be. Salty, but other than that just...Richie. He sucked, slowly moving down to take more, but not even trying to test his limits. There would be time for that in the future, time to hold Richie's cock in his mouth for as long as he wanted. For now, Eddie focussed on the head and rubbed small circles with his thumb on the underside where he couldn't reach. He pointed the tip of his tongue against the slit, chasing more precome and Richie almost sobbed, a hand flying to Eddie's hair and fisting it.

It sent shivering tingles all the way down his spine, putting into sharp relief just how hard he was, and he moaned around Richie's dick as he worked his shorts down and took himself in hand. He'd always been particularly, well, wet, in a way that had always mildly horrified Myra, but right now he was only relieved, because right now there would be nothing worse than taking his mouth off Richie's dick to find lube to make the slide sweeter.

Richie's hips were moving in tiny, aborted thrusts, and the thought that he was barely able to control himself from moving was so mind-meltingly hot that Eddie let him set the pace, moving his head to meet the thrusts and having to squeeze the base of his own dick to stave off his orgasm.

“Eddie, Eddie,” Richie warned, breaking off with a cry when Eddie pulled away to kiss him, to swallow the whimpers and grab his wrist so he'd wrap his hand around them both. “Eddie, you're so wet, so beautiful—”

“Come for me, Richie, I want to see—” and he did, with a low sound against Eddie's mouth, his back arching off the bed before falling back, and only faltering for a moment before bringing Eddie with him. He'd been hovering at the precipice for so long, only holding on through sheer stubbornness wanting Richie to come first, and he buried his face in Richie's chest, biting his pec to muffle the cry. Richie hissed, and as soon as Eddie had come down enough he licked the bite to soothe it. “Sorry,” he mumbled.

“It's...that's fine. I didn't think I liked biting but uh. Apparently you're an exception.”

“I didn't think I liked sex,” Eddie said dryly, before peeking up at Richie from his vantage point on his chest, and grinning as Richie urged him up closer to kiss him again. Without the urgency, Eddie melted against his mouth, letting Richie take the lead and sucking on his tongue. Finally he pulled away, wincing at the jizz very quickly drying against his skin. “Don't let any of it fall on the sheets,” he ordered. “I told you, we should have waited to be home.”

“I'll put the sheets through a wash tomorrow, don't worry.”

Eddie, worrying, rushed to the bathroom to dampen a cloth and rushed back to wipe off Richie's chest. “Shower,” he said, pulling Richie to his feet to drag him to the bathroom. Richie languidly followed, immediately tucking himself against Eddie and letting Eddie scrub at him under the shower, not doing much more than pressing kisses against whatever part of him was easiest to reach.

Finally Eddie got him back to bed, pulling the top sheet off and bundling it on the floor at the foot of the bed, thrumming with tension as he settled against Richie. “People usually chill out after sex, Eds,” Richie said, his voice a low rumble.

“I feel guilty about doing it here,” Eddie admitted, and Richie smiled against his forehead. He gently scratched over his scalp, a soothing rhythm that Eddie could match his breaths to. Tension finally melted, and he slept.

-

He woke up before Richie, for once, plastered against his back with an arm and a leg wrapped tight around him. They hadn't closed the curtains the night before, so the sun was blazing through into the light, airy room, revealing the bite marks Eddie had left on him the night before. He pressed against one of the bruises, fascinated by the change in colour, and Richie gave a little huff, turning so he could wrap his arms around Eddie.

“Good morning, honey,” Eddie said, his voice rough with sleep, and Richie shivered, a dawn coloured blush rising to his face.

“Oh. I like that,” Richie said in a small voice. Eddie hummed and snuggled closer.

He should have known that Richie's mind worked too quickly in the morning.

“Good morning, spaghetti,” he said cheerfully, cackling when Eddie loudly complained and kicked out at him.

[britcision]

REPOST, ignore this if you read chapter 4!

(because this just fucking in besties, copying FROM tumblr online and pasting TO tumblr mobile doubles up the fucking paragraph breaks again, and I’m just deadass not fixing that 3 times)

ENJOY chapter 4, part 1!

Today’s chapter is dedicated to @lehana37

One day, beloveds, one day we WILL get to Sam and Dick… but not today, I was having way too much fun bullying Vlad and Bruce

Tag List: @welcometosasakiworld @kyrianclawraith @someonebored0100 @stealingyourbones @starkcravingmad @frostedthroughghost @akikoyuii @rainbowbunny0159 @littlefeather345 @violet-catsarelife @serasvictoria02 @wolfjackle @blacksea21090 @secretdestinywerewolf @anime-hipster-the-amazing @undead-essence @skitscratched @blackroserelina @snoodly-boop @trickerdi @mayoota-blog @xysidhe @idkmrpianoman @little-apricot-the-writer @chaoticmistake @the-legal-shipper @bun-fish @aroranorth-west @demon-cat-goes-woof @eonic @onyxlightdragon @larks-and-katydids

Previous chapter:

First chapter:

———————

Pay Attention To Me Dammit

“Okay,” Danny sucked in a deep breath, surfacing from Jason’s suit to two deeply concerned pairs of blue eyes, “let’s get somewhere private real fast.”

Tucker snickered, helpfully extracting both him and Sam from Jason’s arms.

“I can’t fucking believe you forgot Vlad was coming,” he sighed, voice still shaking as he gave Jason a once over.

Sam, sucking in huge gasps of air, pinched his arm as she straightened.

“Oh shut up, not like you brought him up either,” she wheezed, still grinning.

“Vladdie’s gonna be fucking heartbroken,” Tucker sighed happily, shoving Danny towards a corner.

People were definitely looking. And not just the other four bats; regular guests were watching behind fans, hands, or just deadass staring.

Tim took over, catching Danny’s wrist and pulling the other boy after him. They weren’t that far off the same height.

“So, should I take it that “Vlad” being here is a good thing or a bad thing?” He asked, pulling on his best socialite smile, heading for one of the hall exits instead.

“Back room?” Jason wondered, guiding Sam and Tucker quickly after him. Tim nodded without looking back.

“They shouldn’t be busy yet. We can talk without being overheard,” he added to the other three, who obligingly sped up.

“As for your question, Vlad being here is… probably gonna end up being nothing?” Danny offered, doing his best smiles for the rich assholes they passed.

Sam kicked him in the ankle.

“Wait til we’re alone,” she said quietly, hustling Tucker along.

Unsurprisingly to Jason and Tim, the first back room already had four other people sitting in it, on two extremely plush couches, angled at right angles and facing a fireplace. Before Danny could turn to find another, Steph caught his hand and pulled him in.

“Hi, Stephanie Brown, friend of the Waynes, we’re gonna talk all about Jason’s adorable little crush on you but first, what did you need privacy for?” She asked, eyes bright with innuendo.

Danny grinned right back, already liking this one, and relaxed when Tim and Jason guided the others in and shut the door.

“Well, I guess you all being here means no one has to be found later… and the more eyes the better in this case,” he mused, looking over the other teens and young adult.

Dick waved at Tucker, grinning sarcastically.

“Danny. And Danny,” he added, nodding to Danny himself.

Sam hid a snicker behind her hand.

“That’s what you went with?” She asked Tucker, and he grinned entirely unrepentantly back.

“What, Jason said he told them who I was,” he said in his very best innocent voice.

Before they could get going, Jason raised a hand.

“I’m gonna guess there was a reason you snuck Danny in other than getting back at Sam’s parents? Vlad Masters,” he prodded, dropping to sit on one of the plush royal blue couches next to Cass.

All three Amity Parkers sobered immediately.

“Right… yeah, we should sit for this,” Tucker agreed, glancing around the room. Seating for nine was going to be tight, but… well, he may no longer be a teenager, but he was still seating-flexible.

Introductions were made as people juggled themselves around, finally ending with Cass, Jason, and Danny on one sofa, Sam, Steph, and Damian on the other, and Dick and Tim perching on windowsill or sofa arm respectively. Tucker took the floor.

Once movement stilled, Danny exchanged glances with Sam and Tucker. Maybe hoping that for once, he wouldn’t be doing the explaining?

He shoulda known better.

Sighing, he ran a hand through his hair and didn’t lean intentionally into Jason’s side. It was good to have another halfa around, that was all.

“Sooooo… cliff’s notes? Vlad Masters is a shady billionaire who uses some seriously unethical shit to make predatory deals with other rich folks to steal their fortune. We think he’s here to cement that flashy “b”, byyyy stealing your dad’s fortune,” he explained quickly, glancing around at the Waynes and adjacents he could see.

They did not look convinced.

Tim frowned, leaning forward on his knee and steepling his fingers.

“If you have proof of that, shouldn’t someone already be looking into him?” He asked contemplatively, eyes fixed on Danny’s face.

It was. Weirdly intense.

Fighting down discomfort, Danny shrugged.

“So remember when I said deeply unethical? Think like, mind control. He’s hard to investigate.”

“You make him sound like a supervillain,” Dick noted from the windowsill.

Sam raised a pointed eyebrow at him.

“Duh, we said “billionaire”.”

“Hey,” Tim protested, leaning around Steph to frown at her, “I’m a billionaire.”

She stared him dead in the eye while Steph snickered.

“I said what I said.”

“And you’re a millionaire,” he shot back sharply, eyes narrowing.

Sam didn’t blink.

“I work at a plant nursery my parents don’t approve of and pay my own tuition. My family are millionaires; I’m not,” she said plainly.

Tim puffed up his cheeks, but let them deflate silently. Jason definitely wasn’t smirking.

Cass leaned forwards suddenly, eyes darting around the room searchingly before settling on Sam.

“Masters. Your connection?” She asked softly, the others stilling to hear her.

Both of Sam’s brows rose, but she didn’t comment at hearing the other girl’s voice for the first time. She looked to Danny instead, raising an eyebrow.

Danny blew out a huff of air, ruffling his bangs.

“So… we… well…”

“He wants to fuck Danny’s mom and adopt Danny,” Tucker said bluntly, tipping his head back to hit Danny’s knees and grinning up at him.

Danny poked him in the forehead, but didn’t refute it.

“Yeah. So he’s kinda been my problem for a while. And he’s the mayor of Amity Park now? Is he still?” He asked, looking from one to the other.

Sam shrugged.

“Think so. I haven’t heard about anyone new.”

The Waynes and co were all kind of just… staring at them. Danny gave them jazz hands.

“And now he’s heeeeeere. He probably won’t make any moves if he knows I’m around, but we should keep an eye on him around Mr Wayne anyway.”

“And we can add him to the fuckery list, along with Sam’s parents,” Tucker added with a very satisfied smile.

It drew all eyes his way, ranging from intrigued to sceptical.

“How?” Steph asked, eyes bright.

Tucker waved a hand over the room.

“Black hair. Blue eyes. For one thing, Mr Drake-Wayne is even the same height, so if he sees you from behind, he could be confused. Dick’s not far off either. And best of all,” he added while the others did quick visual comparisons, decidedly smug, “we hint that Bruce is thinking of accepting Danny as an intern. Step one of Wayne Adoption.”

Sam’s eyes lit up with evil glee.

“Oh he’d do his fucking nut if you cozied up to someone richer than him, Danny,” she gasped, hands bouncing on her lap.

Danny hesitated for a moment, glancing over at Jason. Who was looking back, gears clearly turning. Seeing that he had Danny’s eye, he leaned in quickly.

“Vlad Masters would be Vlad Plasmius, yes?” He asked in a low voice. He’d scanned the database more than read in detail, but he knew the basics.

One very important basic.

Vlad was the other halfa.

And Vlad could sense other halfas. For a hot second Danny very nearly took off out of the room, ready to go find and kick Vlad’s ass and keep him far, far away from Jason.

He didn’t realise he’d clenched his fists until one of them was held in a large, hot hand. Slowly, shakily he uncurled them, checking for blood in the deep half moon crevices now dug in his palms.

Nothing. He was fine.

“Danny?” Jason asked softly, and Danny looked up to his face. There was something in his eyes, something familiar in the way they flashed a deep, sudden green when their eyes met.

Yeah, Jason’s Obsession was fucking definitely Protection, at least in part. Danny clasped his hand quickly, half worried Jason was gonna do just what he’d had to try so hard not to.

Would it have been that bad if Jason was just his friend, not his knight?

There was no way to know anymore.

Covering Jason’s hands in both of his, he gave Jason the best smile he could.

“I’m fine. But yeah, that’s him. And we… should probably also have a private word.” Because there was this sudden, very nasty little temptation curling through him.

“Would this private word have anything to do with Jason almost going full feral?” Dick asked with a studied innocence that had at least a master’s degree.

Which was when Danny noticed that the rest were all staring at them. At their clasped hands. At Jason’s still a little too green eyes.

**

Jason grimaced, fully aware of what they must have seen. He tamped the green down firmly, pushing against the wave of protect-protect-PROTECT the pit was damn near screaming inside him.

Wasn’t entirely sure it was only the pit.

Watching Danny tense up like that, clearly in the throes of fight or flight, pulled at something primal inside him.

Jason didn’t know who Vlad Masters was, what he looked like, what he was doing, but he was fully willing to throw him out of the building by the neck if Danny would relax even a little.

He threatens my king, something growled in the back of his mind and Jason’s hands jerked.

That was fucking new. And not fucking welcome.

He looked to Dick instead, giving him a strained smile. It was the best he could do right now.

“Yeah,” he admitted, not fully comfortable with how strained his voice sounded. How tight his throat felt.

Had the pit tried to use his mouth? Make him speak?

Just the thought made him want to puke, but he pushed that down too. He had shit to do today, and the pit wasn’t gonna ruin it.

“I told you he was helping me with the pit,” he added when Dick still looked calculatedly calm. Definitely not about to tackle him to the ground if he moved too suddenly.

Fuck Jason hoped Dick never tried. When they fought for fun, for training, sure Dick could hand him his ass six ways from Sunday. But when the green took over…

He didn’t want to hurt his brother. None of his brothers, ever again.

Except maybe a little bit psychologically.

“Fenton’s eyes changed too,” Damian said sharply, and oooh absolutely nothing in Jason liked that accusatory tone.

Not about Danny. Not about his king.

His head snapped around to glare at the youngest and knew his eyes had gone green again from the way the others recoiled. All but Sam and Danny. And Damian, suicidal little gremlin.

All but Cass, who slipped herself carefully but immovably back into his lap, hooking her feet into the backs of his knees and hands on his cheeks. Pinning him in place.

Making him look at her, not Damian.

She studied his expression intensely, her eyes saying more than even Dick could manage.

And there was a hand in his again, gently soothing across his fingers until his knuckles opened, and Cass let him look away to Danny. Doing just what Jason had done less than a minute ago.

Danny didn’t have to tell his secrets to anyone he didn’t want to. Not now, not the first time they met, not before he trusted them.

Anger-protect-not their business

And Danny smiled back, all gentle and soft, and Jason settled back, relaxing muscles he hadn’t noticed tensing.

Reassurance-calm-safe safe safe-trust

If Jason trusted them, Danny would too. And if that didn’t sting something right in his chest.

Danny cleared his throat, turning back to the rest of the room and giving them a slightly tighter smile.

“Yeah. I. Uh… I was exposed to the Lazarus pits? About a year before Jason was. So I know what it’s like when it gets too strong.”

Half truths at best, but close enough to be believed. To make sense.

Close enough that no one except Damian, tactless boy wonder, would ever ask.

“Only the dying can survive exposure to the pits,” the boy snapped, eyes sharp as he studied Danny in a new light.

Jason’s hands nearly clenched again, but this time Danny’s was in the way. Protecting Danny meant not crushing Danny’s hand.

Good loophole.

“The dying and the dead,” Danny agreed placidly, calm just barely tinted by amusement.

Jason closed his eyes, let himself focus on breathing in Danny’s aura.

Was that a hint of trouble-fun-plans plans mayhem?

Damian squinted at Danny for another long moment, then nodded sharply and sat back. Steph punched him.

“Damian, you can’t just go asking people if they’ve died,” she hissed in a comically loud whisper.

“It was relevant to the conversation!” Damian insisted, immediately sitting back up to defend his honour. Steph tweaked his nose and he properly growled, gearing up to tackle her.

“It was rude, Dami,” Dick coaxed gently, coming from the windowsill to the couch to scoop Damian into his arms.

The only one of them who could have done it and survived. Damian glowered up at him too, then folded his arms and scowled at the floor.

Dire retributions would surely be incoming.

“Hey, it’s cool,” Danny caused, grinning along with the others now that the tension had broken. “He just wanted to know I’m not gonna hurt Jason, right?”

All eyes turned back to Damian, who squinted suspiciously at Danny again. Jason was ready for the flare of protectiveness this time.

Danny was fine. He could handle the demon brat, even if Dick didn’t have him in hand already.

Jason didn’t want to hurt his brother.

Which caused a different, confusing flare of protectiveness because what he needed to protect Damian from was himself, and the self same flares.

He stifled a chuckle that would probably only make things worse.

Finally Damian huffed, turning away into Dick’s arms.

“Tt. Ridiculous. I only wished to be sure you spoke the truth,” he snapped, and the room resettled.

Danny raised both hands, grinning, and Cass shuffled to rest her ear over Jason’s heart.

“Okay?” She asked softly, moving her feet from his pressure points. Jason brought his other arm up and around her, squeezing gently.

“Yeah, I’m good. Thanks,” he replied just as quietly, resting his cheek in her hair.

“Well, this does also kinda simplify things,” Danny added with a chuckle, leaning back against the couch. “I can just tell all of you; Vlad’s also been ecto…. Pit contaminated. And we can sense each other, so he’s going to know Jason is too.”

That geared the bats back up, all turning back to stare at Danny. Who grinned utterly wickedly.

“So Vladdie gets to be on the rare and extremely valued double fuckery list.”

“Is he gonna try and do anything to Jason?” Steph asked sharply, posture tensing towards the door like it might open at any second.

Tucker shrugged, moving back to lean against the couch next to Danny’s legs. He’d wisely made himself scarce when there was a chance either halfa would make a break for it.

“Like Danny said, Vlad probably won’t try anything if he knows we’re around? He can’t do his mind control on Danny so he’s gotta keep it in his pants, even if he’d rather not.”

Sam brightened, catching on to where the boys were going.

“But because Vlad is like… Obsessed with Danny for being like him, there’s a chance he’ll wanna try and adopt Jason too,” she said slowly, her smile becoming full and wicked.

“And since we’re already planning to have me and Jason caught in some indelicate way to upset the Mansons,” Danny added, utterly self satisfied, “we can fry his brain thinking he can only adopt one of us.”

“And that’s after we make him play Find The Real Danny,” Tucker jumped in, grinning broadly, “because it’s not specific enough to track a single person in a busy room. Do you guys do accents?”

Tim and Dick exchanged glances and shrugged.

“Yours wouldn’t be hard,” Tim pointed out, a smirk pulling across his own face as he nodded to Danny.

“I’d like to know why we’re also fucking with the Mansons though?” Dick asked, raising an eyebrow at Sam. Who shrugged.

“They refused to let me bring my girlfriend as a plus one. So we’re gonna ruin me for men and make them think twice next time.”

“Wait, so you’re not dating Danny?” Steph asked, proving she had been hovering during their little meet and greet.

None of the Amity Parkers seemed surprised. Not by her listening in, anyway.

Danny flushed cherry red, Tucker burst out laughing, and Sam smirked.

“Not since high school,” she said casually. Danny groped around for a throwable pillow but came up short.

For some reason, Jason felt absolutely no need to protect his king from some righteous bullying. Another fun loophole.

Must be the lack of potential stabbing.

Dick grinned suddenly, now leaning on the other arm of the couch from Tim.

“Okay, but we definitely don’t tell this part to Bruce,” he said eagerly, beckoning all the others closer. “If Jason’s job is to flirt with Sam and defile Danny, we were also here to meet Danny as Jason’s boyfriend.”

“Let Bruce think Danny’s leading you both on!” Steph finished, clapping her hands and cackling. “Oh it’s perfect!”

Sam cackled along with her, turning a much warmer smile on the other girl.

“Oh, my parents would love to trash talk Danny to him too, they’ve probably already hurried off to let him know I’m “eligible”,” she agreed with the most sarcastic air quotes Jason had ever seen.

Steph lurched immediately to her feet.

“We’re gonna miss it! Okay, so our first task is to make sure Vlad knows Danny is here, right? So he knows not to try anything on Bruce,” she added to confirm, looking between the Amity Parkers.

Danny frowned thoughtfully, touching his lower lip. Jason tried not to focus on it.

“He should know as soon as we get within proximity of each other… so probably once we’re both in the big room?”

Steph nodded sharply, turning to point to Tim.

“We need to know what he looks like. Can you get us a picture?”

Tim nodded, already tapping at his phone and rising along with Steph, the fire of planning in his eyes.

“On it. Sam and Jason need to be seen to be flirting, but Danny doesn’t have to be with them. Dick and I can wander through the crowd, keeping an eye out for Masters but keeping our faces turned away. Cass, can you help with that?”

Cass gave a thumbs up, sitting straighter and resting her head on Jason’s shoulder instead.

“Yes. Can be Dick’s eyes, signal you both.”

Tim typed a moment longer, then lowered his phone and wheeled, turning to point to Damian.

“And you should all have the photo… now. Damian, if you can get as close to Masters as you can, you can signal us too if he gets too close to Bruce or us.”

Damian nodded and glanced down at his phone, all ruffled feathers smoothing as he tucked it away and straightened his suit.

“I shall watch him for any suspicious moves. I can also run interference if he approaches Father.”

Steph nodded happily and clapped her hands, pointing both at Tucker.

“And you can join me in spying on the Mansons and recording them if they talk to Bruce, for the rest of us to enjoy later!” She declared triumphantly.

Tucker shot to his feet, grinning broadly.

“Yeah! And if they catch us we can tell them Jason and Sam are doing something, or ask if they’ve seen Danny,” he agreed, bouncing on his toes. He stuck a hand out in front of him. “Ready?”

Steph slapped her palm down on the back of his hand.

“Ready!”

The room now filled with purpose, everyone came to join Tucker, sticking their hands in in a circle, even as Damian complained about “ridiculous social rituals”.

No one else seemed to mind, tossing their hands into the air as they all whispered “BREAK!”, not wanting to be heard from the hallway.

As the room emptied, Danny hung back, catching Jason’s eye.

“So I know you’re probably not ready to talk about this,” he said softly as Sam lingered in the doorway, her back conspicuously to them, “but I just need to ask you if there was electricity involved when you died.”

Jason felt his whole body tense, less than pleasant memories rushing to the fore. Broken bones. A blade in his leg. Explosion.

No electricity.

He could see the strain on Danny’s face as his mind cleared, and shook his head.

“No. Why?” He asked warily, suddenly very concerned.

Danny made a face that did precisely nothing to lessen it, looking away.

“Because there was when I died, and Vlad knows it. And he… he can control electricity. But you’ll be fine, well, other than the usual “oh no a bad guy is shooting me with electricity”, right?”

Danny was babbling now, clearly trying to distract himself, but all Jason could see was pure, pulsing green. Before he knew he’d moved he had an arm wrapped firmly around slender shoulders, crushing Danny to his chest.

He didn’t need to be told that reminders of a ghost’s death wounds could be debilitating. He’d have known without the database. Without the catch in Danny’s voice.

“If he ever lays a fucking finger on you again I’ll fucking kill him,” he growled, his voice coming out almost as low as his helmet modulator.

Danny stiffened for just a moment in his grasp, then relaxed against him.

“I mean, I can handle myself,” he protested weakly, voice somewhat muffled in Jason’s jacket, “but I’m not gonna fight you on that one, Jay.”

It soothed something inside him, something hot in the center of his chest that burned at just the thought of anyone hurting the man in his arms.

Attacking him. Using the pain and trauma of his death against him. Attacking his king.

A gentle hand soothed up and down his spine.

Safe-protected-I’m okay-safe

It took a minute before Jason could bring himself to let go, smiling sheepishly down at Danny.

“Sorry. Guess I’m… uh, not used to dealing with anything other than rage from the pit,” he explained weakly.

It felt stupid, comparing something as soft as the urge to protect to those bloodthirsty rampages. That didn’t make it any less true.

Danny shrugged, rolling out his shoulders and grinning up at him.

“Hey, like I said. Shoulda seen me when I first changed. Anyway, shall we go make Vlad’s night a living hell?” He asked wickedly, a cheeky smile on his face.

Jason nodded and made for the door, giving Sam a small smile of appreciation. She looked between the two of them and snickered.

“Yeah, rumpling you both up in a closet’s gonna be easy breezy,” she said lazily, pushing the door open again. “You should trade ties.”

Danny’s hand flew to his throat and he chuckled softly, then shook both of his hands out.

“Okay… time to go make sure Vladdie knows I’m around,” he sighed, cracking his neck. Like he was limbering up for a fight?

Jason cocked a brow, taking Sam’s arm.

“What are you gonna do?” He asked as they moved out into the hall, back towards the ballroom.

Danny shot him a quick grin.

“Expand my aura to cover the whole room. He’ll know I’m flexing, and he won’t be able to miss it. Should help confuse him about Tim and Dick too, since the whole place is gonna feel like me,” he added, and Jason grinned.

Alright, that was gonna be a useful trick. Time to see that famous Ghost King aura put to the test.

He wasn’t really expecting to feel a change really. He was close enough that Danny’s aura was still brushing gently over his, soothing the pit that he was right there.

Ready and close if Jason needed to protect him.

And then Danny’s brows furrowed for a moment, he flexed his shoulders back, and Jason was surrounded in pulsing waves of DANNY-DANNY-DANNY.

He didn’t know he’d stumbled until Sam caught him, her hand small on his chest right over the thudding pulse of his heart.

He barely felt her touch. All he could see, all he could hear, all he could feel was the raw power surging out of the man beside him.

Feeling Frostbite in the Far Frozen had been overwhelming. This… this rewrote the beat of his heart, crawled with his breath into his lungs, curled around every deep and intimate part of himself.

It made him feel tiny and delicate, swept up and held off his feet by Danny’s sheer presence. Crowded and pushed up against the wall, held in place, and Danny wasn’t even fucking trying.

Everything was right in the world. His King was here. The pit fucking sang in his veins.

Aaaand Jason hadn’t been this hard in dress pants since he’d been an excitable teenager who couldn’t help it. Eyes closing, he swayed back against the hallway wall.

He could just barely feel Sam’s hand still on his chest, a grounding point as he sucked in deep breaths. Heard her snicker as the ringing in his ears began to die down.

“You’re getting better at that, Danny,” she noted, and Jason hissed.

This could have been worse? More? How?

And then Danny’s hand was at his shoulder too and he didn’t need to open his eyes to know it. Knew the touch, the feel, the way the pit surged warmth to the spot.

Heard Danny’s soft voice as though it were being broadcast straight into his head.

“Hey, you okay?” He asked quietly, and Jason honestly wasn’t sure.

Think about Bruce’s old underwear commercials. Jane Austen novels. Alfred’s expression if Jason ruined his good pants this fucking early into a party.

Later, maybe, it’d give a flare of authenticity but Danny almost certainly wouldn’t be down.

Danny. There was someone here who wanted to hurt Danny.

Jason’s eyes snapped open and he sucked in another deep breath. It was still redolent of Danny’s aura, still cupping him on every side, but he had a purpose now. A job to do.

He managed a slightly strained smile.

“‘M fine. It’s just a shock.” He cleared his throat, reaching down to tug at the front of his trousers as subtly as he could. “Is, uh… is it always like that?”

Danny looked confused for a moment, still concerned, but it was easier to miss the pulsing beat of his emotions now. Easier to focus.

He’d protect Danny’s feelings too, but he couldn’t do that if he was overwhelmed.

Who knew he’d be this into feeling like he was drowning in someone?

Finally Danny shrugged, glancing out towards the ballroom.

“I wouldn’t know… it doesn’t feel all that different to me. Just like everyone in the room is now inside my personal space,” he added, pulling a face.

Jason stared at him for a long moment, wondering how the hell he was going to ask. If he even wanted to mention the effects it had had - was still having, cleaning guns, Alfred in lace, Vlad was still here.

Nope.

Just. Nope. Not opening that can of worms today.

If Danny didn’t know that just feeling him all around him like that was gonna send Jason to horny jail, Jason was just never gonna tell him. And if Vlad had an even similar reaction, Jason would double kick his ass.

Hauling himself away from the wall, Jason cleared his throat again and fixed his jacket.

“Alright… I’m good. Shall we?” He asked Sam, offering her his arm this time. She gave him a quick up and down, raised a brow, but didn’t comment.

“Sure you are,” she chuckled softly, taking his arm with a reluctant half smile, turning back to Danny. “Are you gonna stick close, or do you wanna recon Vlad?”

Danny considered it for a moment, moving with them as they returned to the hall. Then he shrugged.

“I might go take a peek, but if I see your parents I’ll third wheel back on over. You guys should go mosey,” he added, waving a hand quickly.

Jason nodded, tucking Sam closer, turned back to the room, and… froze. Sam, utterly unaffected, made it a couple steps forward before she noticed and turned back, frowning.

“Hey, what’s up?” She asked in a low whisper, eyes flicking around them.

Good fucking question.

Jason closed his eyes, sucking in a slow breath and trying to work out what had shot down his spine like cold water. Brows furrowed, he tried to will his feet to move.

Took a step backwards and opened his eyes again, frowning back at Sam.

“Alright, I didn’t mean to do that,” he hissed, head turning automatically… to where Danny had taken a couple of steps away.

Green surged below his skin, asking what the fuck he thought he was doing. Abandoning his post. Leaving his king.

There was someone here who’d hurt him, who’d used his fucking death against him, and Jason was gonna what? Not be close enough to break his fingers for thinking it?

Eyes closed for a moment, Jason weighed the odds he could just push this down and keep going. Felt Sam tuck closer. They did have a whole ass plan…

Felt a sudden wash of concern-what’s wrong-protect from the surrounding warmth of Danny.

And sighed, shaking his head, pulling Sam with him after Danny. With each step the green sung, a deep satisfaction not his own rising inside.

He gave Danny a sheepish smile and a shrug.

“I don’t think I can leave you alone. Not if he’s here,” he added a little more quietly, well aware they were being watched once again.

Confusion flashed across Danny’s face for a moment, then he groaned and slapped himself in the forehead.

“Fucking Clockwork… alright, we stick together. Tim and Dick will have plenty of fun with Vlad anyway,” he said, grin slowly spreading again as he tucked himself in to Sam’s other side.

“And we can have more fun with my parents,” Sam pointed out innocently, scanning the crowd around them. Shot them both a sidelong glance each, half smirking. “And I get two lots of cute arm candy.”

Danny and Jason turned automatically to look each other over, Jason’s grin broadening as Danny’s cheeks flushed.

Dick had said he looked a treat in this suit. Must have been right about something.

Suddenly Danny’s aura was all very studious and concentrated nothing to see here.

Jason bit the inside of his lip to keep from laughing, letting his eyes trail a little slower over his king’s frame.

Wherever Danny had gotten his suit from, they knew a thing or two about tailoring. It fit him well, emphasising the lean lines of his legs and torso. Didn’t quite square off his shoulders.

Jason still hadn’t had much practice with projecting his own emotions back, but he had the feeling his… appreciation got through when Danny’s blush darkened.

Grinning down at Sam, Jason patted her hand.

“Only if my code name’s Gummy Bear.”

A startled laugh from Danny was the reaction he’d been going for. Sam’s sudden, utterly wicked smile was a lot more concerning.

“Alright. Danny’s is gonna be Jawbreaker,” she decided, her gaze darting briefly down to Jason’s lips as she smirked.

Jason looked away quickly, his own cheeks uncomfortably warm as Danny choked.

***

Vlad Masters smiled to himself as he moved through the crowd, a shark among minnows. Their vacuous chatter was a soothing background noise; practically already the emptying of their pocket books.

Oh, he didn’t like to come to Gotham, not with that Bat that flapped around. The Bat didn’t like metas, or people who could do just a little more than curl up and die.

But, well, this had been an opportunity just too sweet to pass up.

He could dip his toes in Daniel’s new haunt, remind the boy that he’d never be too far away if he needed him. He could get a look at this son of Bruce Wayne’s, that had died and come back.

And just maybe he’d get a claw into Wayne Enterprises, and get a look at some of their latest technology for his own… uses.

Yes, Vlad was feeling productive just being here, even if he did have to keep his ghostly abilities on lock.

He drifted through the crowd, joining conversations, sniffing out weaknesses, moving on. Oh, some of these wealthy types thought they were hunters too, he could see it in their eyes.

He’d made his fortune by taking from those types of men and letting them see what true power looked like. It was much more satisfying to break a man who thought he was unbreakable.

Bruce Wayne wasn’t one of that type, but he had something that Vlad wanted. Still, the man seemed vacuous enough, all laughing and drink and flirting.

He’d handed control of his company to his teenaged son (and oh Vlad was a little jealous of him for thinking of that move… if only Daniel was more… pliable).

But Vlad could see himself letting Brucie keep at least some of his assets. The man was entertaining, and it’d show Daniel he’d listened.

He could change. In ways that weren’t too… inconvenient for him.

And then he’d have a shield in Gotham, and Wayne could deal with that meddlesome Bat, and he could pay Daniel a visit.

He’d just caught sight of his true quarry, standing in a small circle of fawning admirers when the felt the Presence flood the room.

It sent a shiver up his spine and he locked his knees, refusing to let any weakness show as the air filled with the heavy static of Daniel.

So the boy was here? Interesting. He’d have a chance to see his Little Badger even before he left the party.

He had seen the Mansons on the guest list and he had to wonder if the lad had finally gotten closer to his little goth friend. Close enough to be a plus one?

The elder Mansons would surely hate that, and make that hatred known. Unless Vlad were to… step in. Save the boy from their judgemental stares.

Remind them that Daniel may not be from a wealthy family, but he was still connected to the Masters name.

Yes, this was wonderfully good news and Vlad felt almost chipper, a spring in his step as he advanced on Wayne. Oh, the boy was flaring off, showing Vlad he had some power too, but Vlad wasn’t here to fight.

All he needed was to set up one simple meeting between himself and Wayne, and then all of tonight could be for his Little Badger. Imagine, Vlad Masters having the chance to play the hero.

He was most definitely looking forward to it. And ah yes, here they were, the Mansons already at Bruce Wayne’s elbow, chattering away.

Everything really was coming up Vlad.

**

Bruce had met the Mansons before of course, at other charity events across the country. They were… well, pretty much exactly the type of nouveau riche he kept his children away from at all costs.

Never impolitely, of course. Never letting on how their false smiles and honeyed lies made his gut squirm in distaste. He was always cordial, and could safely rely on the effect his smile had on both of the couple.

But they weren’t what you’d call close, even in gala circles, so it was something of a surprise when they sought him out.

“Ah, Brucie! There you are, good to see you,” the husband, Jeremy, called jovially as they approached, clapping him on the back.

Bruce gave them one of his better Brucie smiles, returning the gesture with a calculated firmness.

“Jeremy! Wonderful to see you,” he greeted them both exuberantly, eyes discretely scanning both to try and work out what they wanted. They always wanted something.

The wife, Pamela his mental rolodex said, simpered up at him, clutching at her husband’s arm.

“Of course we were simply delighted to hear that your son was found, we couldn’t possibly miss the party!” She gushed, letting her hand flutter over his. “You know, our Samantha is about the same age.”

Ah.

Well, that was a first. For Jason, anyway; Tim and Damian both had plenty of parents hopefully thrusting their children his way. Even Dick was subject to occasional propositions.

Jason had barely been his long enough to be considered eligible when he’d… well.

Bruce would mention it to Dick later, so his eldest could tease Jason about this latest milestone. Best not broach the subject himself.

He cranked the wattage on his smile down a little, looking carefully behind the couple.

“Yes, I believe I’ve met Samantha before,” he said genially, mind scanning through his gala notes.

Samantha Manson. Usually seen in elaborate pink and frilly gowns, always seen utterly despising them. Quiet, rebellious eyes.

At least Jason might find someone tolerable to talk to.

“Is she here tonight?” He finished, like he hadn’t personally memorised the guest list.

Pamela and Jeremy Manson. Samantha Manson. And plus one.

Plus one? Clearly someone the parents found less agreeable than Jason, and Bruce couldn’t help feeling sorry for the poor kid.

Jeremy was already nodding cheerfully, a sparkle in those eyes that put Bruce on edge.

“Oh yes, she’s off talking to your boy right now in fact,” he said with a very self satisfied chuckle, shooting Bruce a knowing look. “I think they quite hit it off.”

“Poor Jason was just telling us how few friends he has his own age, and of course Samantha would much prefer his company than being stuck with her parents,” Pamela trilled, giving Bruce a knowing look of her own, about three shades smuttier than her husband’s.

He could very, very easily believe that, even with as little time as he’d spent with the elder Mansons. Still, best not let them get their hopes up.

“How lovely! I’m sure Jason will keep her well entertained, he has his own plus one for the evening and he does thrive with an audience.”

He’d been expecting them to dim a little at the mention of a plus one, and if not maybe to delicately hint that the current partner was male.

Bruce might not personally know how serious Jason was in this new relationship, but he’d have his son’s back against any of the gala harpies.

He was not expecting them both to beam even brighter.

“Why, that’s the best thing!” Pamela beamed, clapping her hands. “His plus one, Tucker Foley, is Samantha’s very best friend! They’ve been close since high school, very close,” she added proudly, like she’d curated the friendship herself.

Bruce was beginning to think he’d have to mention he knew Samantha also had a plus one when Jeremy nodded happily.

“And of course Samantha brought along her other friend, Daniel from home too, so we were quite concerned the boys might run off together and leave our little girl on her lonesome, but your Jason really took a shine to her!”

Something sharpened in Bruce’s spine, catching at his attention.

“Daniel?” He asked, innocently as he could, and spotted Steph and a young Black man heading their way. Certainly she’d hang back to get more information. “Would I know him?”

Pamela’s face scrunched for a moment before smoothing back into a perfect, empty smile.

“Oh, I very much doubt it. The boy is from a rather disreputable family I’m afraid, very bad influences, but our Samantha has never shied from offering her hand in friendship.”

Bruce took a moment to compare this sentence to the young woman he remembered, barely covering seething resentment under a very similar empty smile.

Friendship. Yes, he could see her offering that to literally anyone her parents disapproved of.

But if this was the same “Danny” Jason was getting involved with, it was his fatherly duty to learn what he could.

He schooled his face to his best politely interested morbid fascination.

“Oh? Please tell me more.”

**

Steph and Tucker sped up as they caught sight of Bruce, Steph leaning in to whisper,

“Are those the Mansons talking to him?”

Tucker nodded, slipping around to the other side of her for partial cover.

“Yeah, that’s them… wonder what they’re saying, he looks so concerned,” he whispered back, and Steph snickered.

“That’s his “your problems are so fascinating tell me everything” face,” she explained quietly, turning to plant her back to the nearest small table.

This one held a small crystal sculpture that was probably supposed to symbolize something, but she wasn’t gonna look twice. Instead she slipped her phone out of a discrete pocket and hit record.

Tucker took a moment to admire the new tech, leaning around her with an intrigued smile.

“Oh, is that the new WayneTech phone? Can I see?” He asked, brightening up.

Steph grinned and shook her head, carefully angling it to point at Bruce and the Mansons without making it look intentional.

“Not the newest release, but the one before. Tim lost a bet so he had to give me some free upgrades,” she added when Tucker looked confused.

“But aren’t you one of the Waynes? Why would you be a release behind?” He sounded honestly dumbfounded and Steph hid a snicker.

He sounded like Tim every time she turned down one of Bruce’s toys.

“I’m really just a family friend, and I don’t wanna have to get a whole new phone every time Tim or his nerd team has a new idea. You can look later, I wanna catch what they’re saying,” she hissed and he reluctantly quieted, still looking at her like she was crazy.

Yeah.

Tim 2.0. She was gonna have to text Connor later.

Tuck pulled his PDA out and she half expected him to start recording too, but instead he pulled up a handy decoy screen so he could pretend to be showing her something.

And…

Tapped into the video currently being recorded on her phone. She raised a brow and he grinned back, tapping a few buttons and boosting the volume.

“There are some advantages to upgrading your tech,” he said smugly and pulled out a pair of earbuds, offering her one.

They pulled them out about five minutes later.

Steph clapped her hand over her mouth, fighting down giggles as she dropped the earbud into Tucker’s hand.

“Holy fucking shit to people still actually talk like that?” She hissed between her teeth. Tucker, also fighting laughter, stuffed the headphones back into a pocket.

“Yeah, honestly? My mom loves Saturday morning soaps and even she’d call that overplayed,” he snickered, shaking her head.

“You’d think Danny ate their fucking cat, what the hell happened there?” Steph asked, lips pressing tightly shut on another laugh as she made awkward eye contact with some passing guests.

“Honestly? Nothing, they just don’t like his parents, and that makes Danny a “hoodlum”,” Tucker rolled his eyes and grinned, flipping his PDA to a different channel, and then suddenly flipping back. “Aaaaand shit, that’s Vlad. This is gonna be good.”

Steph pulled the PDA quickly from his hands as he lunged back into a pocket.

“Quick, get them back, there is no way I’m missing this!”

**

Vlad couldn’t say he was honestly surprised to walk in on the Mansons telling some outlandish story that was almost all sly innuendo. It was why Pamela came to these parties after all.

What was surprising was the way Wayne’s face grew more and more serious as she spoke, painting a picture of Daniel as some kind of delinquent thug.

Which, to be fair, wasn’t an entirely inaccurate picture of the boy on his worse days, but hardly represented his best.

And if he reached into just a hint of ghostly stealth to come up behind her, well, watching Pamela Manson startle as he cut in with a well placed greeting was more than worth it.

“My, that does sound like a fascinating story Pamela! And you say this was young Daniel?” He asked, watching with satisfaction as both Mansons spun to stare.

“Brucie” gave him a sharp, almost assessing look too, much more thoughtful than he usually bothered with. Interesting.

Pamela brightened when she recognized him, beckoning him in.

“Oh, yes! Vlad, do join us, I was just telling Brucie here about some of those silly ghost adventures Daniel would pull Samantha into in high school!” She clearly expected him to join in.

Ah, but today Vlad’s role was to be Daniel’s hero, not Phantom’s nemesis. And maybe to see just what had managed to rub two brain cells together in Wayne’s famously amicable head.

He gave her a fond smile, nodding in greeting to the men and taking his place in their circle.

“Why, Pamela, I do hope you’re not disparaging my godson before Mr Wayne even has a chance to say hello?” It was a calculated guess, but honestly.

However Daniel got into this party (and he would put money on his dear goth friend Sam herself), he wouldn’t be introduced to the man holding the purse strings.

From the corner of his eye he also caught a very familiar red beret, and his brow quirked slightly.

Daniel, Sam, and Tucker Foley, all in one place. They must have heard he’d be coming.

How… adorable.

His smile spread as Pamela’s faded, even as Brucie turned to offer him a hand and a warm smile.

“Mr Masters, yes? I believe we’ve met at a few of these before,” the man said, all charm and sunshine.

Vlad shook the offered hand firmly, resisting the urge to just poke directly into his mind.

Tucker was listening. Best give him something interesting to report.

“Yes, I wasn’t aware you knew the Mansons too? One of our finest families in Amity Park,” he purred, giving them both an almost predatory smile.

Jeremy puffed up under it like it was actual praise, but Pamela was still watching him curiously.

“Oh yes, we’re going to be quite close,” she said airily, giving Brucie a secretive smile.

The man didn’t quite return it, the same friendly, open smile not changing in the slightest.

More interesting still.

“And perhaps you and I will be getting closer too, Vlad. Can I call you Vlad?” He asked, and Vlad’s smile widened.

“Of course. Is there something I should know?” He asked, half teasing.

Brucie’s expression flickered almost too fast to see. Something like actual thought under that big soft smile.

“It seems that my son Jason has been spending time with young Samantha and Daniel,” he explained, still sounding just the same cheery fool.

Vlad’s smile widened further, and he took a moment to reign himself in. It wouldn’t do for him to stretch too far. It could make people nervous.

“Oh, how wonderful!” He exclaimed happily, rubbing his hands together. “I was hoping to congratulate him personally on his return, it is quite a rare feat!”

And if Daniel was sniffing around him, that added credence to the rumours that the boy really had died. And possibly changed.

Now, if he could just speak to the young Jason alone, see how easily he could be swayed… if the boys were already friends, perhaps he could even plead Vlad’s case to Daniel directly.

Brucie gave him a dazzling smile, gesturing to Pamela jovially.

“Well, I certainly hope so! From Mrs Manson’s stories I was beginning to worry that Jason might be falling into some rough company.”

Vlad gave the woman a smile that would have chilled if he’d had Daniel’s ice core, but instead crackled with his own electricity.

“Oh, young Daniel may be a bit rough around the edges, but there’s no more loyal boy anywhere in the country,” he assured Wayne smoothly, and noted Tucker and the blonde girl he was with breaking away.

Off to report to Daniel, then. Good.

“Really, you can judge best when you meet him yourself,” Vlad all but purred, watching them go, “after all, you yourself know all about taking young men from rough circumstances and polishing them to a shine.”

Brucie’s smile was all proud paternal joy as he looked out across the room, and for a moment Vlad wondered how many of his interminable brood had actually come.

A young man was very suddenly at Brucie’s side and even the man himself seemed to startle, but his smile only grew as he clapped the boy on the shoulder.

“And here’s one of them now! Mr and Mrs Manson, Vlad, this is my youngest son Damian.”

The boy certainly had Bruce’s jawline, and the same wide eyes the press so loved, even if the eyes themselves were green. Any other similarities would be hard to spot as the boy fixed Vlad with a glare that could have been Daniel’s.

“Good evening,” he said curtly, and Vlad pressed his lips together to keep from chuckling.

“Why, such a stern young man!” Pamela cooed beside him, bending down to give her sweetest smile to the boy. Wilting just a little when he turned the glare on her.

Brucie’s hand tightened momentarily on the boy’s shoulder and his expression immediately smoothed out.

“I’m sure he’d much rather be off with his friends, but he was good enough to come tonight and support his brother,” Brucie explained cheerfully, giving Damian a proud smile.

“Wonderful to see young people who understand the importance of family,” Vlad nodded, keeping half an eye on the boy as he spoke. His eyes had narrowed just a little, probably looking for a patronizing tone.

At these kinds of parties, it’d likely be all he heard.

Still, Vlad settled in to make some idle small talk, whiling away the time until dinner. No serious business would be discussed until after the meal after all.

Perhaps he could persuade Brucie to introduce him to Jason.

**

It was Steph who zeroed in on Jason’s flash of white hair first, but Tucker who crashed almost directly into Danny and hissed the news.

“Vlad’s here and he’s complimenting you!”

Danny stumbled back to catch them both, staring in bewilderment.

“He’s fucking what?” He asked incredulously. Tucker nodded quickly, grabbing his elbows.

“Seriously, he basically told the Mansons to fuck off for badmouthing you,” he hissed, and now Sam was intrigued too.

“Vlad? Our Vlad? “Phantom is the greatest threat our city has ever known” Vlad?” She asked.

Danny elbowed her sharply and she rolled her eyes, but Steph definitely noted it down to ask later. Tucker nodded again, faster than before.

“Right? He’s definitely up to something.”

“Could be his new plan to win you over,” Steph added, closing the rest of the distance to tuck herself into the group.

Danny paused for a moment then grimaced and shook his head.

“Nah, it’s never that simple with Vlad. He knows I’m not gonna just hear some kind words and fall into his arms.”

Sam rolled her eyes, turning and firmly piloting their new cluster to one of the windows, out of the way of the less nosy eyes.

“Danny, it’s Vlad. He’s still convinced your mom just needs to be alone with him for five minutes to fall head over heels, no matter how many times she karate chops him.”

Which, yes, Steph was adding that to the questions list too, a smile tugging at her lips. She cut them off anyway, making pointed eye contact with Jason.

“Not that this doesn’t already sound fun, but I’m also pretty sure I just saw Selina Kyle,” she told him sweetly, and had the joy of watching him actually blue screen.

Just. Stared into space for fifteen seconds.

Then sighed and scrubbed both hands down his face.

“Of fucking course she is. Why not? Does anyone wanna call the Joker, see if he wants to join too?” He asked sarcastically, tossing both hands into the air.

Steph snickered and rose on her tiptoes to ruffle his hair, ignoring the confusion of their new friends.

“Hey, look at it this way. She’ll keep Bruce off your ass,” she offered cheerfully and Jason groaned louder, giving the window a speculative look like he was considering jumping out of it.

Tempting.

Sam leaned in, giving them both a sharp look.

“Who’s Selina Kyle?” She asked bluntly, and Steph paused for just a moment, wondering how best to put it.

How to describe the fucking disaster that was Batman and Catwoman to someone who couldn’t know either of their identities. Ah, yes, she knew.

“Bruce’s kleptomaniac ex-and-sometimes-current girlfriend. Every single conversation they have is riddled with innuendo and pussy jokes that she makes, and she’s been around since Jason was knee high.”

“So she’s got stories?” Tucker asked, eyes brightening as she twigged.

Jason turned and pointed his most menacing finger at him.

“She does not have fucking stories and you do not want to talk to her, she’ll steal the filings from your teeth,” he warned sharply.

Danny’s lips moved soundlessly for a moment and then suddenly the most wicked glee Steph had ever seen from anyone not a sibling lit his face.

“Jason… she has pixie boot stories, doesn’t she?” He asked in a low hiss, and Steph’s brows shot straight to her hairline.

Jason had only ever willingly worn pixie boots for one reason. Guess things with Danny were serious serious.

So how much had Jason told him?

From the way he was now glaring warningly at Danny, and Sam was rounding on Jason with intrigue, glee, and a complete lack of understanding, it was just Danny for now.

“We’re not talking to or about Selina,” he hissed, crowding up into Danny’s space and ooooh Steph wasn’t too worried about their mutual secret to miss that cute little blush on Danny’s cheeks.

Which also didn’t stop the man himself from grinning up at Jason, even if he did have to crane his neck back to do it.

“Does she have pictures?” He asked with a genuinely wicked glee that Steph just adored.

“Pictures of you in pixie boots?” Sam cut in, crowding up to Jason’s other side.

And now Jason’s cheeks were flushing red.

“They were in fashion at the time!” He defended weakly, and Steph had to laugh at that.

“Yeah, them and mullets,” she cackled and Jason shot her a scowl too.

“Weren’t you guys supposed to be keeping an eye on someone?” He asked sharply, changing the subject like that had ever worked.

Didn’t work on Tucker either apparently, and Steph liked that in a man as the Black guy gave Jason that pure and innocent smile.

“Yeah, Bruce and the Mansons, but that part of the show’s over. Damian’ll let us know if anything happens,” he dismissed easily, and Jason scowled.

Steph braced herself for the flare of green, especially when it had already been so close tonight, and was almost shocked when it didn’t come. When was the last time Jason had glared so much without it?

Maybe Danny did know what he was doing.

The rest of their families’ secrets notwithstanding, she decided that for the moment she had to approve.

It’d be subject to change, a bat never planned against new intel, but for now? She liked Danny. He was honest, easy going, and made her brother blush in ways she’d never seen before.

There were clearly secrets, but he’d dropped a big one on them already with his own Lazarus exposure. Secrets never lasted long in this family anyway, but Steph could wait on digging for these.

She had much more important things to do, like tease Jason mercilessly.

For now, she popped up on his other side to press a kiss to his cheek and ruffle his hair again.

“Well, I’m gonna go find Dick and let him know Selina’s around. Tucker, do you wanna find Tim? If he has you beside him Vlad’s way more likely to be confused,” she added innocently.

Like Tucker’s eyes hadn’t always lit up at the chance to hang out with Tim. She’d be offended if she hadn’t also seen the appeal.

The smirk Sam shot her meant the other girl definitely knew what she was doing, and Steph took a moment to grin back.

Yeah. Getting Sam Manson’s number before the night ended, preferably willingly. Girls gotta stick together, and mercilessly bully their mlm besties.

Tucker hesitated a moment longer, clearly also dying for pixie boot stories, but in the end his nerdery won. Surprising no one.

“Yeah, we’ll go spread the word,” he agreed dramatically, like it was all down to him. Then he pointed back at Jason, utterly unintimidated by a full mountain of muscle. “But I want pictures too!”

“No one’s getting pictures,” Jason said firmly, and Steph danced carefully out of earshot.

“I know where Alfred keeps the scrapbooks,” she called in a sing song voice, and was a little surprised not to even feel anticipation when Jason lunged at her.

Teasing him was usually a careful game, something she had to put her mind into. Watching the pit, calculating his limits, ready to fully run if he broke.

But he was so fun to tease, and it felt… yeah. Nice to wind him up like Dickie or Tim, or Bruce himself. Nice not to be prepared for a sudden attack.

It wasn’t like she’d have ever stopped if he had lashed out anyway.

Danny was good for him, for whatever reason. She shot them both finger guns, heading back for the middle of the room.

“Try not to get into anything scandalous,” she called, loud enough to turn a couple heads. Which would only help their primary, Manson related plans.

Jason flipped her off while Tucker hurried after her, chuckling to himself.

“So, scrapbooks?” He asked hopefully, and Steph shot him finger guns too.

“Not tonight, but it’s happening. We need a group chat.”

“We so fucking do.”

**

Bruce was not having a fun evening.

He’d been happy Jason had found a guest to bring. Over the moon, really. He needed a life outside of his crimes.

Less happy that Jason had held out on the name of his guest, only sending it when Bruce would be too busy to properly investigate, but he couldn’t exactly blame him.

Bruce knew he could be paranoid and overbearing, his kids made sure to remind him constantly. And Jason deserved privacy.

But it had quickly become clear that “Tucker Foley” and “Pit Helping Danny” were not the same person. Whoever Jason wanted to introduce them to, it wasn’t just his mystery date.

Fortunately one had led neatly to the other, the Mansons revealing the trick quite by accident. And they’d known a lot more about Real Danny too.

None of it predisposed Bruce well to the boy.

Apparently he was reckless, lazy, trouble prone, unmotivated, and a very bad influence.

It felt fucking stupid when he knew full well that Jason was a crime lord and official serial killer, but Bruce just didn’t want him to get into any more trouble.

And if this Daniel Fenton was still half the boy the Mansons knew, there was a whole other world of shady exploits he could be dragging Jason into.

Ghost hunters. Really.

Everyone knew about Amity Park’s “ghost problem”; a cheap way to drum up tourist dollars, just like Bigfoot sightings.

They’d tried calling the Justice League out more than once, but Constantine had marked it as a no fly zone. Which meant there was nothing supernatural there worth bothering with.

The regular Justice League had no time for claims of magical mayhem.

Vladimir Masters had been interesting too, both on the Amity Park perspective and in news about Danny.

As the boy’s godfather of course his opinion could be biased, but according to him Danny was a loyal, kind hearted young man. Still rough and tumble but hardly dangerous.

And he’d been right; Bruce had plenty of experience with that type of young person. He’d soon be able to tell just what this Fenton was.

But Masters could be a useful source there, both for information and potentially sympathy. He’d seemed to understand Bruce’s concerns quite well.

Perhaps after dinner he could catch up with the man again. Make some plans, a meeting somewhere a little more private, where his children wouldn’t all be listening in.

He didn’t want to give them the impression that he didn’t trust Jason to handle himself.

He was just.

Concerned.

Jason hadn’t been himself since before they’d buried him, tangled in that mess of his birth mother. He’d done terrible things, but he’d been lost.

Bruce would do all he could to help his boy find himself again, even if that meant taking a more subtle approach. He wouldn’t let Jason be taken advantage of.

Meeting with Masters would have to wait, however, because as they’d been chatting he’d caught sight of an unfortunately familiar slinky black dress.

He’d excused himself from the adults and slipped past Damian with a meaningful look, and followed her trail through the crowds.

She slipped through easily, winding between people and Bruce could easily guess just how many would be finding their pockets all the lighter for it.

He had to go a little slower, his broad shoulders making him more noticeable and kept him from her tighter squeezes, but she couldn’t avoid him forever.

For one thing, she clearly didn’t want to. He finally caught up at the foot of the stairs to the entrance, turned away from him to admire the lion statue at the base of the banister.

“Bruce,” she greeted without turning, leaning back and just knowing where he’d be. He hated being predictable, and yet… he couldn’t disappoint her.

“Selina. I didn’t realize you were coming.” He’d checked the guest list twice today, but there were always so many plus ones. He hadn’t invited her, but that’d never stopped her before.

She tipped her chin up to smile at him, hearing every unsaid word.

“And miss young Jason’s return? Why Bruce, I’ve known the boy almost as long as you have, I’m happy to see him alive and well.” It was a gentle reprimand, and for a moment he wondered if she’d expected an invitation.

If he should have asked Jason if he’d like her there. But then, which of his children had ever liked it when Selina came around?

Not least because she always broke the rules, and he always found himself letting her. Never the most important, never the one Jason broke, but…

Selina wasn’t his weakness, he didn’t have one. But she was a distraction.

He smiled back, calculated, charming. The one she liked to see in public.

“Of course. Have you seen him?” She might have valuable insights into Jason’s condition, though she’d refused to get involved since his… original return.

Not getting caught in family squabbles. He’d always liked that about her.

She hummed softly, leaning more of her weight into his chest, hand reaching up over her head to caress his chin.

“Not yet, but I’ll say hi eventually. Rumour has it he’s growing quite the harem,” she purred, and Bruce damn near choked.

Harem? Jason?!

“Oh?” Was all he managed, and even then he knew she heard the strain when he felt a low chuckle rumble through her back.

“Word has it the young Samantha Manson and her own date are both all over him. Poor boy, and his own plus one is being borrowed by half the Waynes. What have you been teaching those boys?” She teased, fingertips running just shy of his lower lip.

Definitely feeling where it puckered slightly into one of his minimal frowns. Nothing he’d heard about this “Danny” was setting him at ease.

Still, best not to let anything too real show.

“He’s always been good at making friends,” he allowed, gaze now scanning the rest of the room for his son.

Selina chuckled again, finally stepping away and turning to face him, giving him an appreciative once over.

“Now that’s a lot tamer than what I heard. I’ve heard that they’ve already bustled off to the back rooms, and reemerged en déshabillé,” she purred, and Bruce tensed.

Jason wouldn’t. Not with a stranger. Not at a gala.

True, it wasn’t on the (long, extensive) list of forbidden gala behaviours, but that was because it didn’t have to be.

Jason didn’t like following any of his other rules.

Jason was an adult. Bruce wasn’t… a fool. He was aware that quite a few of his children had grown up. And may, possibly, in an abstract way, have a sex life.

He didn’t like to fucking think about it at the best of times, but Jason? Who couldn’t control himself, who had those unpredictable rages?

No, he did not like that thought at all. His face must have set into stern lines because Selina’s hand was on his cheek again, brushing like she could smooth them out.

“Now now, Bruce. He’s twenty-two. Remember what you were like at that age?” She cooed, and that really didn’t help.

“That’s different,” he growled, keeping to the Brucie ranges with the iron control he’d prided himself on. The control Jason lacked.

Selina examined his expression for a moment longer then shook her had, patting his face just barely shy of being a slap. He caught her hand, gaze whipping round to focus on her again.

Just what she’d wanted, of course.

“Darling, you can’t stop him. You two are on rocky enough ground as it is, hmm?” She reminded him gently, voice low.

His grip tightened on her wrist, gaze flashing across her person.

“And if I searched your pockets right now, how many stolen rocks would I find on your person?” He asked equally quietly. Not changing the subject.

Just a good question.

Her eyes narrowed for a moment, then her lips curled into a smile and she stepped closer.

“Well if Jason’s left the back rooms free, you can search me as closely as you’d like,” she purred, pressing herself to him from shoulder to thigh.

And definitely felt him twitch in annoyance, grip tightening again. He forced himself to let go, step away, before his reactions could betray him further.

“Enough, Selina. Why are you really here?” He asked sharply, carefully balancing the line between Brucie casual and the answers he wanted.

She looked him over for a moment more then shook her head, half smiling.

“Touchy touchy. I’m here to give my best wishes to Jason, darling. Nothing more. And if some of these jumped up little pheasants find their tails a little lighter for it, I don’t think you really care, do you?” She asked rhetorically, turning away to slink back into the crowd.

Bruce considered following her. Pushing for more, working out what she really wanted.

It could wait until he’d checked the back rooms. Or found Jason. Whichever came first.

—————

Part 2!

[sailor-manga]

QHC- Pegging.

A/N: As you all can tell, this is going to be NSFW and going to be about the pegging kink. If you don’t know what the pegging kink is, it’s :  When a woman fucks a guy with a strap on. If that is not something that interests you, then go ahead and skip past this. This is a +18 post, and you must be +18 if you’d like to read it. Thank you. 

This is just a quick drabble, and I honestly want to do this with many more of the BNHA characters, but for now I thought sweet little angel babies Midoriya and Kaminari needed their spotlight. 

Here’s for all my Dominant ladies out there ;) 

Characters included: Midoriya and Kaminari. 

Izuku Midoriya 

✘ Midoriya flusters easy, but in reality he’d be willing to try anything with you. It wouldn’t be pressured or anything, but he feels safe with you so when you mention it he would seem pretty embarrassed, but also slightly curious. 

✘The male has always been more submissive in bed, he usually starts out on top but in the end he’s under you, screaming out numerous pet names he had given you during your relationship.

✘The next time you two would be fooling around, you would gently ease him into the idea by prodding your fingers into his ass while you’re sucking him off. At first he seems too flustered by it, but soon you would hear small whimpers coming from his mouth “P-Puppy, put it in, please.. I-I wanna feel it” 

✘With his permission given, you would bite your lip and watch as his face scrunches into a confused pleasure as you inch your pointer finger into his pucker, and when you get knuckle deep- You would stop to let the male get used to it.  

✘Once he was drooling mess, begging for you to continue. You would strap the harness on and lube it up before starting to tease his hole. He would still be a crippling mess underneath you, tongue hanging out of his mouth and half lidded eyes, staring up at you eagerly through his lashes. 

✘After fully prepped, he would go from quiet whimpering to mewling like a little slut, and once his ass was used to it? He would be begging you “Please, Y/N! Go harder! I want to feel it hitting my prostate!” “I will do anything, just please fucking me!” 

✘You would go through the extra lengths to make sure he was having a good time, you would reach over and play with his nipples, and stroke his throbbing cock. Once he came? You would admire the lustful, euphoric state he was in before pulling out and laying next to him, cuddling up with him and giving him extra affection for being such a good boy.

Denki Kaminari 

✘Kaminari is a little different, he doesn’t care if it’s embarrassing or degrading. Anything that turns you on, turns him on. You’ve even dressed him up in panties/women’s clothing and it turned out that he LOVED it. 

✘When you bring it up to him, he would be a little skeptical at first, but also quick to say yes, something around the lines of “Anything for my baby” or “I would do anything for you, Y/N”. But in reality, we all know that Kaminari is a little freak, so he probably had his mind on it more than once. 

✘Upon pulling it out, he would do lewd things with it to turn you on, such as sucking and licking at the silicone cock before prodding his hold himself, just so you could sit back and watch. It’s clear that he’s done some ass play before, because he doesn’t bat an eye when he starts to push it into himself. 

✘After his little show for you, he would get on the bed face down, ass up- Begging you to take him. He would already be rock hard just from the thought, leaking pre-cum onto the bed. 

✘As you mount him, he would start spouting things off like the brat he was- taunting you not to go easy on him. When you initially push the cock inside of him, he would let out a moan of shrill ecstasy, burying his face into the pillow as his hole stretched to fit the dick. When you start smacking your hips against his ass, he would turn into a mess, moaning loudly and clawing at the bed sheets. 

✘Kaminari would be quick to want to switch positions and soon you would end up sitting on the bed with him on top of you, riding the dick like he was some kind of pro, obviously to impress you. He wants to make sure you’re getting what you want out of this. To see his lewd expressions, to kiss at his neck and mouth, and for him to hold you close. 

✘Once he cums, he would stay on the cock for a minute, hugging onto you and whispering filthy idea’s into your head on what you two could do next. 

Tag List: @hipster-merchant-of-death​ @nighthoodhawk​ @riotfuckery​

[lexpressobean]

Sun Sign Astrology Lesson ft. Shino Aburame and Obito Uchiha: Aquarius Suns

The Sun Sign is THE sign people are asking for when they simply ask, "What's your sign?" And just like the sun, your sun sign is what shines through the most, big and hard to ignore, no matter what the rest of your natal chart looks like. The Sun symbolizes our Waking Consciousness and determines how we (for the most part) perceive and experience our world, and how we generally act unprovoked and without incentive.

The only real problem? Every Zodiac Sign has a Celestial Body Placement (planet, star, satellite, ect) that is their Domicile (Ruler), Exaltation (or Amplifier), Fall (Weakening) and Detriment (Opposer).

The Sun is Leo's Domicile, and the opposite of Leo is Aquarius which, in the Sun, is in Detriment. When a Sign is in Detriment/Opposed in a Placement, it's just REALLY difficult for that sign to function in that Placement's designated purpose or specialty. And that, my friends, is why Aquarius Sun individuals are so commonly seen as these unadjusted weirdos, right off the bat. The rest of the chart can balance the Aqua Sun out, but it's not a guarantee.

•••

So it stands to say that Shino Aburame, as an Aquarius Sun, is one of those oh so stereotypical, "quirky" and "rebellious" Aquarius. Those commonly described as "friendly but detached" in schmoozing magazines and trendy online articles.

Except, he doesn't come off as friendly at first. It's not that he's hostile or unfriendly. He's just blunt as a club and has no patience for tomfoolery. He is without a filter. Simply, he's most likely a Virgo Rising. Earth Signs in general are the most guilty of having RBF Syndrome (especially in the Rising Placement, which designates appearance/mannerisms/presence). Even if you can't clearly see Shino's face, you can tell very quickly Shino is the kind if person who is very much serious and stiff under all those layers. Despite that, he's very well put together and you can see he dresses for efficiency (hiding his Kikaichu and giving them room) as much as he does for fashion (he even dresses in earthy colors lol). The rest if the clan does this as well, though, so that could be a clan culture thing. Shino also has a very analytical way of speaking, and first impressions of him seem to mark him as nitpicky, careful, and a loner, which is out of comfort, not necessarily desire. Comfort and Practicality is what marks an Earth Sign. Compared to Virgo, Aquarians tend to be a lot more friendly and outwardly "eccentric" (and yeah, he is weird, even for an Aburame lol) but are also Independent and main Logic as Air signs. Being Independent and being a Loner aren't the same thing, but he ends up doing both in the beginning anyway.

In comparison, Obito Uchiha is very much an Aquarius full force, it shines through even his Rising, which I would wager to be a Leo Rising specifically, being both a Fixed and Fire sign. Aquarius is ALSO a Fixed Air sign, which can symbolize Fixed Ideoloy. Super stubborn, has to be right, and BOY does this dude really fixate on that poor girl Rin Nohara. Another type of characterization Aquarius is known for is that of The Humanitarian, but that's usually an evolved Aquarius. A low frequency Aquarius is a know-it-all that never admits they're wrong and is constantly trying to appear "different and unique" because they think it actually means "better" for some fucking reason?? Arrogant AF haha. They ARE the Black Sheep, they're the Hipsters, the Alien that doesn't belong, they're the one's with the ideas that will change the world, even though everyone else ignores them or thinks they're full of shit (tho a lot of them really are!). Plus, with a Leo Rising, he comes off as very self centered and wanting to be the main attraction, something Kakashi doesn't let him have, especially in front of Rin lol. But still, Leos are also very kind and generous (though ppl tend to not see it). I mean if it meant protecting Rin, Obito quite literally GAVE Kakashi his Sharingan possessing EYE... yeah... And one of my favorite Dark Side characterizations of Aquarius is that of the Evil Mad Scientist that Plans to make Humanity their bitch. And, like, OBITO BASICALLY HAD THAT AS AN AIM?? In a sense? Or was super okay with helping because he was like, "Yeah, I can get behind this." It took some manipulation, but if you appeal to an Aquarius' mind, they become very dedicated to a cause. Very Aquarius of you, Obito.

To be honest I don't know too much about Obito or Rin, but I can sure see the Aquarius in his general character design from what I've stumbled upon (spoilers due to roaming tumblr really) There's also Suigetsu Hozuki, but I really don't know anything about that guy other than he's basically a Human Vaporeon and the fact he COULD have murdered Sasuke at one point but DIDN'T because... he figured it wasn't worth it?? Didn't care enough? Would ruin the plot? Idk.

Anywho, yeah, if at least Shino and Obito aren't examples of naturally unadjusted Aquarius Sun individuals, then shit bro. At least Shino grows up into a HEALTHY individual. Obito... was unfortunate... But I've always liked the Aquarius-like Villains/Antagonists. They always come off kinda crazy, but the best have that barely contained crazy with that super warped out there thinking haha.

(Also, Capricorn-like antagonists like Satsuki Kiryuin from KILLlaKILL. She's a Ruthless Boss Ass Bitch if I've ever seen one, and I LOVE that about her <3)

You gotta be a little more patient with Aquarius Suns, it's gonna take them a while to really... "get it". Or at least give things a chance lol. Fixed signs are very stubborn.

[tinyboxxtink]

“Warrior”

Awwwwww SHIT. She cannot be stopped, folks. 

So I thought about making this an Epilogue to “Helpless”, but I MIGHT turn it into a sequel, if that’s something you guys want. I have so many ideas!!! 

Anyway, here is a “Helpless” SEQUEL ONE SHOT as of now. 

TBH I love it so much. I was listening to the song and I just couldn’t get this idea out of my head. OH RIGHT, if you haven’t heard Demi Lovato’s “Warrior”, listen to it now. And/or as you read this. I listened to it the entire time I wrote it. Hell I’m still listening to it. LOL.

“Please, Liv?” 

Barba was begging his best friend, on his knees in his own office. 

“This is ridiculous, Rafa. You’re a grown man. Stop begging,” 

“Then promise you’ll do it,” 

“I..wha...WHY do you need me to take your girlfriend out?”

“Look she just went through a traumatic event--” 

“Um it was pretty traumatic for me too, if you couldn’t tell,” 

“Right. I know...Liv, you know I love you,” He put a hand on her shoulder. “But she ALSO lost the one person in the world that she’s had for most of her life. She has no one now,” 

“She has you, obviously,” 

“Well yeah sure she has me, but I--I can’t be her whole world. She needs friends. And she doesn’t meet anyone because she had to quit her job at Fazzoli’s. So she’s just been my Personal Assistant for the past month until she can find something else, and she’s just…. around, ALL the time,” He explained the past month of your lives.

“Sounds like you’re getting sick of your little hustler,”  Liv chuckled. 

“DON’T, call her that.” Rafael warned her. 

“Why? It’s what she did,” Liv scoffed.

“Olivia...look,” Rafael rubbed his temples. “You are my best friend in the entire world, and I love you. But you have GOT to let this little...grudge against Y/N go,” 

“Grudge? What-- She--” Olivia protested, but Rafael cut her off.

“Whatever happened, it’s in the past. We’re putting it behind us, and so should you,” 

“Whatever….” Olivia rolled her eyes.

“If you want to keep being my best friend,” 

“Is that a threat?”

“It’s a plea, once again,” He took her hand. “If you truly love me, you will help me help her,”  He gave her those puppy dog eyes, the ones she could never resist, even if she wanted to. 

“Oh that is DIRTY, Barba,” She pushed him away with her hand over his face. 

“Again though, I don’t know what you want me to do. She obviously doesn’t think we’re going to be friends, and all of my friends are your friends-- also, they’re all adults,”

 “She’s an adult,”

“....Sure she is,”

“OLIVIA,”

“Okay okay, I just...Oh you know what, I could ask Lucy if her and her friends want to come,” She picked up her phone and flipped through it.

“See? You’re brilliant,” Rafael smiled.

“Whoa there counselor, I’m not sure how excited she is going to be to drag her friends out with her BOSS, her friends and your pet---girlfriend,”  She quickly corrected herself, but Barba heard it anyway. 

“You’re unbelievable,” He sighed. 

“Look I said I would ask her, I didn’t say it would be happy about it,”

“Alright, alright,” He nodded. “Thank you, Liv,”  he gave her a small hug then she turned to walk out. 

“Don’t make me regret this,” She eyed him. Just then, you came up behind her in the doorway.

 “Regret what?” 

 “Uh...my lunch plans, Rafael suggested a place I haven’t tried,” Olivia pushed her hair behind her ears nervously, looking everywhere around you but your eyes. Classic lying tells, but you really didn’t want to deal with her stuff right now so you left it alone.

“Oh, well have fun detective!” You gave her a cheery smile as she walked out of the office. You handed Rafael one of the two coffees you had brought in.

“Fuel for my baby,” You smiled, kissing him on the cheek. You could see the screaming behind his eyes when he smiled back at you. 

“...What?” you raised an eyebrow.

“What, what?” he asked, acting oblivious.

“Rafael, you know I know something is off,” 

“Wha… no, not--” he started but you gave him a knowing look. “You said you weren’t going to do that anymore, Y/N,” he was suddenly stern, referring to using your ‘superpower’. 

“And I told you, I can’t turn it off!” You reminded him, you had said it in your very first conversation. 

“Okay but you can...y’know pretend you don’t see things,” he pointed out.

“Or, you could just tell me why your eyes are screaming for help right now,” you crossed your arms.

“Wha--that--Good lord,” He sighed, taking a swig of his coffee. 

“I’m around too much, aren’t I?” You finally stated the obvious, tired of ignoring it anymore.

“No! No no no…” He put a hand to your face. Overly repetitive denial, meant yes. 

“I’m sorry, I can’t help it. I don’t have anywhere else to be,” You bit your lip and looked down at the floor. You hated being this helpless, relying on him for everything. Ever since he had left the hospital, you’d moved in with him and took care of him while his shoulder healed. And then when he went back to work, you told him you had to quit working at Fazzoli’s because it was just too hard to go there every day after everything that had transpired there. You really had tried, but you just kept having flashbacks or panic attacks that Arianna would come walking through the door and take you away again. 

Rafael was totally understanding, as usual. He told you that you could be his Assistant for the time being, which really just meant you followed him around all day like a puppy. And he was paying you with his salary, so he was basically just giving you money. You hated it; you were used to being completely independent-- sort of. 

Sure Arianna ‘protected’ you, but it wasn’t like you were a baby bird. You had been through so many horrific things in your short life, all on your own. You knew how to survive in the mean streets of NYC, making your own money. You were like a bulldog, and now you were a lap dog. 

“Hey,” Rafael picked your head up back to face him. “I know. I’m not blaming you for anything,” 

“But you are sick of me,” 

“I just...I think you need more people in your life, that’s all,” he stroked your hair.

“Yeah, I know,” you shrugged.

He was right, but you weren’t used to having more than one person looking out for you, or vice versa. You didn’t really know what it was like to have a normal friend, and your serious trust issues really didn’t help the situation. Rafael had tried to get you to go to therapy to work through your “issues”, but you didn’t trust your therapist, which made the whole thing moot. 

“...Wait, so what were you actually talking about with Liv?” 

“She told you, I was--” 

“Can we not do this again,” You rolled your eyes. 

“....Alright fair enough,” He sighed, giving up. “I asked Olivia if she knew of any girls that might want to ‘hang out’ with you,” 

“Oh my god, Rafa!” You were humiliated. 

“God now I’m like that weird kid in class who eats paste, and her parents have to to talk to the teacher who makes the other kids be her friend,” 

“....That’s a weirdly specific scenario,” he raised an eyebrow.

“...Yeah, well-- not my first time,” You shrugged sadly.

“Aw honey,” He half laughed, taking your into his arms and kissing your forehead. “I would’ve been your friend, no matter what you ate,” 

“Yeah well considering you were probably in high school when I was in elementary, I doubt it,” You smirked.

“Ooof, below the belt,” He put both hands over his crotch with a pained expression.

“I’m sorry,” you stuck your tongue out with a smile. “But you kinda deserve it, trying to beg people to be my friend,” 

“I didn’t BEG…” He started, but saw that look in your eyes. “Okay but it worked,” He came clean. 

“Oh Olivia and I are gonna have a girls night? Are we gonna braid each other’s hair and talk about boys we like? OH WAIT,” You made sarcastic gestures. “We like the same boy!” You rolled your eyes. 

“I mean, I can’t blame you. He’s pretty awesome,” He smirked.

“And so not full of himself,” You pulled on his collar towards you.

“Not at all,” He kept smirking, as he placed his lips over yours. 

Just then Barba’s phone vibrated-- a text from Liv. 

 “KARAOKE NIGHT. TONIGHT. 8PM,” 

 “Uh….well, I guess you might be right?” He showed his phone. It vibrated again, another text came in as your were reading it.

 “LUCY AND FRIENDS, YOU BETTER BE THERE TOO. I’M NOT A BABYSITTER,” 

 “Well, she is just lovely,” you handed it back to him with a roll of your eyes. 

“Hey, at least she’s trying,” he texted a reply to Liv.

 “Can you try as well? Please?”  He asked you while looking at you with the same puppy dog eyes, Liv wasn’t the only one who couldn’t resist them.

“Fine…” you sighed, and he rewarded you with a kiss.

“I need something to wear,” You batted your eyes, to which he rolled his own and pulled out his credit card. 

“See? I’m leaving you alone, it’s working already!” You giggled, walking out of the office to go shopping.

------

That night, you and Rafael showed up to a place called TOP5.. It was a fun, trendy hipster  restaurant. There were several booths, some tables, even a few couches for people to chill. And in front of everything was a huge stage, with a piano next to it. But there was also a DJ, spinning records. 

Rafael noticed Olivia waving to him; he lead you to a giant half booth half table where Olivia, Rollins, Fin, Carisi, and four young girls you had never met before sat with drinks in their hands. 

“How did you get these guys out?” Rafael gestured to the squad.

“I asked them nicely,” She smiled.

“Yeah, if ‘nice’ means  it was either this or catching up on paperwork all night,” Fin rolled his eyes. 

“This is Lucy, my nanny,” Olivia pointed the young girl next to her, who gave a small wave. 

“And these are my friends Riley, Lexi and Brianne,” Lucy pointed to each of her friends, who also did a wave as they heard their name. 

“Rafael Barba,”  he nodded to the girls. “And this is my--”

“Y/N,” You interjected, introducing yourself. You were determined NOT to just be “Rafael’s Girlfriend” anymore. 

“So we were looking through some songs, I don’t think anyone’s brave enough to go up there though,” Lexi informed you, gesturing to a huge black binder in front of her and her friends.

“More like not drunk enough,” Lucy laughed.

“Hey we can fix that!” Brianne giggled, calling for shots from the bar.

“Great idea Barba, it’s like we’re chaperoning,” Amanda whispered to Rafael, who rolled his eyes and nodded to a waiter for a scotch. 

“May I?” You asked Riley, sliding the book in front of you. You flipped through a binder, until a song stood out to you. It was like it was screaming to you from the page.

You had heard so many “therapeutic” mantras over the past month, people trying help you get over your trauma. Talk it out, they said. You need to get it out. 

Well, this was one way. 

You excused yourself and walked up to the DJ, whispered something to which he nodded, and went to the mic. 

“Alright alright, looks like we have our first vict--I mean, superstar!” He joked. You seriously thought about punching him in the face for using “victim” as a joke, but you knew that was the trauma talking. And you were to fix that, not indulge it.

 The music started, and you just let the words spill out:

This is a story that I have never told

I gotta get this off my chest to let it go

I need to take back the light inside you stole

You're a criminal

And you steal like you're a pro

All the pain and the truth

I wear like a battle wound

So ashamed, so confused

I was broken and bruised

Thoughts of you and Arianna’s life together ran through your mind like a movie montage as you sang. The words were so scary accurate.

Now I'm a warrior

Now I've got thicker skin

I'm a warrior

I'm stronger than I've ever been

And my armor, is made of steel, you can't get in

I'm a warrior

And you can never hurt me again

 That first chorus felt like you were letting out a huge breath you had been holding in for God knows how long. You wanted Olivia, Rafel, the squad...EVERYONE to know, that you weren’t this helpless little lamb they had seen for the past month.

 Out of the ashes, burning like a fire

You can save your apologies

You're nothing but a liar

I've got shame, I've got scars

But I will never show

I'm a survivor

In more ways than you know

'Cause all the pain and the truth

I wear like a battle wound

So ashamed, so confused

I'm not broken and bruised

 Now the flashbacks of the real trauma you had been through came pulsing through your mind. Horrors that still kept you up at night; you’d have night terrors sometimes but had hidden them from Rafael so far. He didn’t need to know just how fucked up you truly were. None of it mattered now anyway, you were a survivor. And you had the scars to prove it.

 'Cause now I'm a warrior

Now I've got thicker skin

I'm a warrior

I'm stronger than I've ever been

And my armor, is made of steel, you can't get in

I'm a warrior

And you can never hurt me

 There's a part of me I can't get back

A little girl grew up too fast

All it took was once, I'll never be the same

Now I'm taking back my life today

Nothing left that you can say

'Cause you were never gonna take the blame anyway

 You thought of everything Arianna had taken from you. Sure your childhood was shit, but you were fairly young when she convinced you to run away with her. You could have stayed in your small town, found a decent job. Lived a normal life, with normal friends. But she sucked you into your life of crime and deceit, all while telling you it was perfectly fine, and that she loved you. But it was all bullshit, all of it. You saw that now. And now if she ever came back into your life and tried to convince you of anything, you wouldn’t fall back into her lies.

You took a breath before the last chorus, suddenly feeling your face getting wet. You realized you had started crying while you were singing, but for some reason you weren’t ashamed of it. It actually made you feel stronger, like letting your tears wash the pain and shame from yourself.

 Now I'm a warrior

I've got thicker skin

Now I'm a warrior

I'm stronger than I've ever been

And my armor, is made of steel, you can't get in

I'm a warrior

And you can never hurt me again

You finished the song in a whisper as your head dropped to looking at the floor. You were exhausted from the mental journey that song had taken you on. You had never felt so...free. Before you could even look up, the room erupted in applause. 

You lifted your head to see everyone in the room giving you a standing ovation...even Olivia, who you could swear had tears in her eyes. 

You gave a sheepish smile and a curtsy, quickly getting off the stage and returning to your booth, where not a face was dry. 

“...Aww, guys...,” You didn’t know what to say; you had never been that open and vulnerable to ANYONE before, and here you had gone and ripped your soul open in front of a group of strangers.

“That was--” 

Olivia came around and hugged you, a genuine hug. It lasted uncomfortably long, so you had to break it with a confused smile. 

“I’m sorry I judged you,” She apologized, and you saw the absolute sincerity and guilt written all over her face.

“It’s fine, if I were you I would’ve judged me too,” you gave her an understanding smile.

She nodded, giving Rafael an apologetic look as well, to which he took her hand and pulled her into a hug. 

“So, who’s next?!” You smiled, pushing the binder to the middle of the table. Protests and laughs began at the table, bickering about who was drunk enough to follow you. 

Rafael leaned over to you, whispering in your ear over the noise of the crowd.

“You’re the bravest warrior I know, Y/N” He wiped tears from his eyes, kissing your cheek.

“Yes. Yes, I am,” you smiled, wiping the rest of his tears as you kissed him. 

And for the first time maybe ever, you believed it.

[nakey-cats-take-bathsss]

Tag Game! Tagged by one of my faves, the ever lovely @stealing-jasons-job

1. Why did you choose your url?

My username is so weird lol I get asked this all the time and I wish I had a better answer but I literally just love videos of those hairless cats taking baths. I also think the word nakey is really funny which pretty much tells you everything you need to know about me. I didn't plan on posting fic when I came up with this name and now I'm too attached to it to change it to something practical or more poetic.

2. Any side blogs?

None currently but there are some old ones lingering around...

Somewhere out in the universe is a hipster blog filled with poetry and short stories about boys who didn't like me back in high school but it is long lost and I have no idea what it is called. It is probably a repurposed to scam people into clicking RayBand Sunglasses links by now. There's also a really really old Dramione fic blog running around somewhere that I used when I wrote in the Harry Potter fandom.

No need to talk about my "fitness" blog that was basically thinly veiled orthorexia

3. How long have you been on tumblr?

I think since just before the height of the popularity so like 2010? I fell out of it with everyone else and was really pleasantly surprised to find that people are still hanging around here when I came back two years ago haha

4. Do you have a queue tag?

No. I'm highly impulsive and a terrible planner. If you see posts on here, I am here haha I don't have that kind of foresight.

5. Why did you start your blog in the first place?

Honestly I have no idea, I was having a tough time and wanted to write and the rest of this has just been a really happy accident.

6. Why did you choose your icon/pfp?

It's real cute isn't it?! It's so hard to find aesthetic faceless pics with brown skin so I had to take the opportunity. It's just so vibey, isn't it?

7. Why did you choose your header?

Yellow is such a joyful color!

8. What’s your post with the most notes?

I'm not very tech savvy I have no clue how to figure this out? It's probably a moodboard of some kind! I'm not big on text posts haha

9. How many mutuals do you have?

I have literally no clue. But I have made sooooo many truly incredible friends on here. I'm infinitely grateful for all of them. Y'all have become such a genuine source of joy and support in my life, I truly cannot express how much you mean to me.

10. How many followers do you have?

982 and I suspect a significant percent of those are porn link accounts and spam because at least one of those follows me a day. Idk what the point of follower counts on here is, but I love all of you, even the Pornbots. This account is also super old so some of them might be dead blogs too.

11. How many people do you follow?

589

and none of you are pornbots and I love y'all even more.

12. Have you ever made a shit post?

I've made crackposts?

13. How often do you use tumblr a day?

I notoriously hate my phone and I have this app that lets you grow a tree if you don't use your screen. It's very cute, I grew 5 peach trees today. But long story short, it's not super often, maybe once a day. I try to check notifications every day though because I do absolutely love interacting with y'all.

14. Did you ever have a fight/argument with another blog?

Hahahah I wish I was bold enough to do this because I've been tempted to do it more times than I can count but conflict makes me squirm and also cry. I do get intensely annoyed when I see tone-deaf discourse about mixed race people though so I'll always go to bat for that one.

I did lose my shit one time and tagged something as "nakeycats has fucking snapped" which haunts me in my tags to this day and makes me laugh now.

15. How do you feel about the ‘you need to reblog’ posts?

I get it. I mean, I'm not one to tell people what to do and I don't always love the tone it takes on but the general sentiment of it isn't unfounded. There has been a general shift away from reblogging even though it's the only way content gets traction on this site. From a content creation standpoint it's disheartening to put work out there and know that nobody is seeing it. So much love and work goes into writing and it really does suck sometimes. That said, people are going to do what they're going to do, it's not going to stop me from putting work out there.

16. Do you like tag games?

I adore tag games! I love everything about them! Every time I get tagged in one it's like "me? really?" and then I consider us to be besties haha.

17. Do you like ask games?

I really like them and I used to love doing them when we did BWC! Some of the games get hard to keep track of now but this was such a good way to meet people and I'm grateful for it. That said, I LOVE ASKS. If you ever need to vent or rant or tell a joke or chat or practice your emoji usage HMU I'm always down.

18. Which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous?

Is Tumblr famous still a thing? I would probably just tag my friends in this since they're all famous to me and I'm convinced a lot of them will be famous one day for writing or creating in some way ( @stealing-jasons-job and @queenemori specific point to you in particular)

I will give a special shout-out to @burninghoneyatdusk because I was a massive fan of her writing and then we became mutuals and I was like "omg!! the author of this fic love! A star is following me back!" haha so that was a fun moment when I was first dipping my toes in the fandom and it did feel like someone famous followed me. Also she is rad and very humble considering how talented she is.

19. Do you have a crush on a mutual?

I can't even bring myself to have a crush on someone in real life.

Plenty of friend crushes though.

20. No-pressure tags:

@elora-lane . @natassakar . @ninappon . @burninghoneyatdusk . @obviesbellarke . @queenemori . @franklyineedcoffee . @carrieeve . @infp-with-all-the-feelings and anyone else who wants to do it