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Things Learned and Unlearned Ch. 14

Series Summary: Y/N has spent her life trying to outrun her mother's reputation. When she meets the rich and successful playboy, Dean Winchester, how quickly can he get her to stop running?

Pairings/Characters: Dean Winchester x Y/N, Sam Winchester, Jessica Winchester, Lucy Winchester (OC)

Warnings: Each chapter will have it's own warnings, but there will be smut, seduction, virgin!reader, playboy!dean, Edwardian era BS attitudes surrounding sex and women. (Technically it's set in 1900 and the Edwardian era started in 1901, but you get it.) Angst, Fluff, all the good stuff that regularly pops up in my series. 😁

Chapter Warnings: Implied smut, angst, attempted sexual assault - it's stopped, but there is non-consensual kissing and fondling. Misogyny and violence.

Word Count: 5,115

A/N: Here's Ch. 14, the penultimate chapter! I so appreciate all the love and support you're all giving this series. Hope you enjoy the latest installment. ❤️

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Dean bounded up the stairs leading to his front door, two at a time. He needed to get in and out quickly. He was already running behind and he didn’t need to be waylaid by his family. He just needed to change for the show before going to pick up Y/N. He had a lot of clothes stashed away in her hotel wardrobe, but not his tuxedo.

Just the thought of Y/N made anger churn in his stomach again, but he pushed it aside. Thoughts of her had kept him distracted all afternoon, and it was affecting his work.

It was pointless to be angry, anyway; it didn’t matter enough to be angry. There had always been a fifty-fifty chance of her staying or going. Sure, maybe her decision to let him bed her the night before had confirmed for him that she meant to stay, but she obviously didn’t see it that way.

So that was the end of it.

He walked carefully through his front door, happy to find his home quiet; no one was around as he crossed the foyer to the wide staircase that led up to his bedroom. When he was halfway up, however, he heard Jessica call to him from the bottom.

“Dean! You’re here.”

He sighed. “Evidently.” He said as he stopped and turned back, trying for a smile as she climbed the staircase to join him.

“Why are you here?”

“Well, I do believe I live here.” He said sardonically.

She cocked her head and gave him a look that said she didn’t think he was funny. “You know what I mean. You’ve barely been around since we’ve been here. Or should I say,” she raised an eyebrow, “since Y/N’s been here.”

Dean gritted his teeth. “I’ve been busy with work. Which is why I’ve gotta get going now.” He pointed upstairs. “I’m late.”

Jessica frowned. “You’re late for work at,” she checked the grandfather clock on the landing. “at seven thirty in the evening?”

Dean sighed. “I’m taking potential business partners to The Manhattan, the vaudeville theater, for a show tonight. I’m just here to get dressed.”

He’d invited George Taskett and Simon Brighton, the owner of Clearwater Pulp and Paper to come to the show with them. He refused to believe the small voice in the back of his mind that told him he only did it so he wouldn’t be alone with Y/N all evening. He’d simply done it as an apology for being utterly distracted in their meetings earlier that afternoon.

He turned away from Jessica to start up the stairs again, but she reached out to grab his wrist.

“Wait. I…I wanted to talk to you.”

Dean sighed. “Sure. What is it?”

Jessica let go of his wrist to cross her arms over her waist, stepping up one stair so that she was on the same step as Dean, leveling their heights. It wasn’t often that Dean found himself standing nearly eye to eye with a woman, but Jess was very tall.

Perfect fit for Sam. Dean thought, even as the fierce look in her eye had him bracing for an onslaught.

“I was wondering what…what are your intentions with Y/N?”

Dean frowned darkly. “Excuse me?”

Jessica raised her chin. “You heard me. Y/N is a respectable woman.”

Dean’s voice was low and strained. “Have I ever insinuated that she isn’t?”

Jessica made a scoffing noise. “I know about the offer you made to her, and I believe that it was less than respectable.”

Dean’s jaw hurt from clenching it so tightly as he spoke. “My private affairs are no business of yours.” He said, turning away and starting back up the stairs.

“They are my business when they concern my governess, a respectable young woman that we’ve taken under our wing.”

She followed him up the stairs to the landing. “Someone we see as family!” She called out to him when he started up the second half of the stairs.

He turned back to her. “Y/N is a grown woman and is quite capable of making her own decisions. In fact, I doubt very much she’d appreciate this little conversation.”

Jessica stomped up the steps after him. “I know for a fact she doesn’t want me to talk to you, because she told me not to. But I thought…”

She reached his level again and stared at him for a moment. Then her shoulders deflated and she shook her head. “I thought I could get through to you. Make you understand that you’re throwing away a remarkable woman, kind and caring, beautiful, intelligent.”

Dean waved away her words, running up the rest of the stairs. “I’m well aware of Y/N’s attributes, thank you.”

“Then why wouldn’t you marry her? I mean my god, you love each other, that much is obvious, so I simply don’t understand your reasoning.”

Dean went deathly still, alarm bells screaming in his head. The same bells that had been going off for weeks now, maybe longer.

He looked back at Jessica and knew his anger was obvious. “That is absolutely not true and you have no idea what you’re talking about! I am not ‘in love’ with anyone, and I have absolutely no intention of ever being married!”

He took a breath and attempted to speak calmly, but his voice was still raised. “Now, since you seem to know all about my life anyway, I’ll tell you straight out that Y/N has refused my offer and will be returning home with you in a couple of days. Seems as though continuing on as a ‘respectable woman’ as you put it, has trumped being ‘in love’.” He spat the words out, his stomach bound in knots and the now familiar panic climbing in his chest.

He turned away from her again and Jessica chased after him. “I simply don’t understand you!” She shouted at him.

He spun back to face her. “You don’t have to understand me! You just have to mind your own damn business and stop-”

“Mommy?”

Lucy’s little voice interrupted Dean and he turned, still breathing heavily, to see Lucy standing in the doorway to her room, rubbing her eyes. She’d obviously already been in bed and their shouting had woken her up.

“What’s wrong?”

Jessica walked over to pick her up and give her a shaky smile. “Nothing, poppet. Uncle Dean and I were just…talking.”

Lucy pouted. “Loudly.”

Dean reached over to pinch her cheek lightly, trying hard to keep his voice level. “Sorry, kiddo. Didn’t mean to wake you. I’ve gotta go now anyway, so you go on back to sleep.”

He turned away quickly before Jessica had the chance to say anything more. He tried desperately to erase her words from his mind, but they summed up one of his worst nightmares and he had a hard time wiping them away.

***

Y/N was just starting to wonder whether Dean was simply not going to come, when she saw him appear on the other side of the garden doors, knocking gently.

She stood up from her chair and waved him in. He opened the doors and stepped through, bringing the scent of cold air with him.

He nodded at her and she smiled a false smile.

He cleared his throat before speaking. “I apologize for being late. Work went longer than I expected. But we made a lot of progress. I hope you don't mind but I've invited George Taskett and Simon Brighton to the show with us this evening. Just as a gesture of goodwill while negotiations are being finalized.”

Y/N nodded. “Of course. That's smart.”

He nodded back and an awkward silence sat between them for a few seconds before Dean picked up Y/N’s coat from the chair and held it open for her.

“Well, shall we?”

***

As they jostled along the New York streets, Y/N found herself getting more and more annoyed at the continuing silence between them. If this was how the rest of their time together was going to go, she didn't think she could take it.

She turned to look at his stiff profile; it was gorgeous like a marble statue, and just as unmoving.

She sighed. “Are we honestly not even going to talk about this?”

She saw his jaw tick. Movement at last! “Talk about what?” He asked, dully.

Y/N refused to answer such a ridiculous and redundant question, merely staring at him until he finally turned his head slightly to look at her briefly before rolling his eyes and looking forward again.

“What is there to talk about, Y/N?”

Y/N barked out a laugh without humor. “A lot, potentially.”

He growled slightly under his breath, and shifted in the seat so his torso faced her.

“Have you changed your mind? Hmm? Ready to accept my offer after all?”

Y/N's heart squeezed tight and she heard a voice in her mind shout a resounding “Yes!” But she shook her head sadly.

“No, but-”

“Then that's it, isn't it?! It’s finished. There's nothing else to discuss because we’ve already discussed it. So that's it, and we're done.”

Y/N felt like she'd been kicked in the stomach. She knew he was referring to the discussion being over, but the words went much deeper than their current conversation and they both knew it.

She nodded slightly and turned to stare out the front of the carriage again. “Yes, fine.”

A few minutes later, they finally pulled up outside The Manhattan Theater, which was large and impressive. The lobby inside held a glittering chandelier and lively art on the walls; Y/N knew that under better circumstances she would have been excited and eager to be there. But the world seemed dim now, all of it lacking in color.

Then, afew minutes after arriving, her evening got much worse.

George Taskett was approaching them with a smile, and walking just behind him was Byron Temple; and he was smiling the way an alligator smiles, like he’s just waiting to swallow you whole.

The two men reached them and George held out his hand to Dean. “Good to see you Winchester and thanks again for the tickets. I don't get out very often when we come up to New York, so this is wonderful.”

He patted Byron on the shoulder. “Hope you don't mind, but Mr. Brighton sent word that he'd been called back to the mill on some urgent business and couldn't attend. So, not wanting the ticket to go to waste, I invited Byron along.”

Dean's smile wasn't echoed in his tone.

“Of course not. Good thinking.” He reached out a hand to Temple and the man shook it, his beady blue eyes calculating and cold.

Dean stepped back and put his hand on Y/N's lower back. “You both remember my companion, Miss Taylor?”

Y/N bowed her head towards the two men. Taskett smiled warmly. “Of course I remember. Couldn't forget such a lovely face.”

“Indeed.” Byron said, smiling again and making Y/N's skin crawl. “You seem to have bloomed even more since our last meeting.”

Despite everything going on between them, Y/N pressed herself into Dean's side and was immensely grateful when he slipped his hand around the side of her waist to hold her there.

The lobby lights dimmed briefly, letting them know the show was about to start, so they all filed into the theater. George and Byron were sitting a couple of rows behind them, so they parted ways and took their seats, agreeing to meet in the lobby afterwards.

Y/N was very glad to lose Byron Temple's uncomfortable presence. But as she and Dean sat down beside each other, she began to feel the tension grow between them once again.

The show began, and the first act was a dancing clown who did a lot more prat falling than dancing. Everyone else laughed and clapped at his antics, but even though Y/N clapped along, she couldn't force herself to laugh.

She smiled politely through the other acts; a man and a dog who performed tricks together, a comedian who told vaguely risque jokes that she wouldn't have understood a few months ago, a male and female dance act who were decidedly better than the clown, and many other interesting acts. Sometimes they were very talented, and sometimes just unusual.

But Y/N knew that a few days ago she would have loved them all. Now; however, her heart was simply too battered to enjoy any of it.

Then, just before the last act of the evening, Lillian Russell came on stage. Y/N knew her name; she knew she was a singer. But judging by the reaction of the crowd, she realized that she must be an incredibly popular singer. The audience cheered loudly, clapping for a full minute as Miss Russell stood on stage, graciously waving and curtsying to the crowd.

As the cheers finally quieted, the orchestra struck up and the soprano began to sing. Her voice was rich and sweet - certainly beautiful enough for Y/N to understand the reaction she’d received. She sang three songs, to the thunderous applause of the audience. But as she tried to leave the stage after the third, the crowd cheered for her to sing more.

Someone near the front shouted, “After the Ball!” And everyone around him picked up the cry, chanting for her to sing the popular song.

Y/N's stomach clenched as Miss Russell smiled indulgently and held out a hand towards the orchestra. “Alright, just the chorus through twice then, shall we?”

The familiar notes of the waltz began and Y/N felt tears come to her eyes, letting them fall as the soprano's beautiful voice gave heart wrenching power to the melancholic lyrics.

After the ball is over,

After the break of morn—

After the dancers' leaving;

After the stars are gone;

Many a heart is aching,

If you could read them all;

Many the hopes that have vanished,

After the ball.

As the orchestra played the closing notes and the crowd began to clap wildly, Y/N dipped her head towards Dean quickly.

“Excuse me.” She said, rising and making her way to the end of the aisle and then out into the lobby. Those lyrics had felt a little too relatable and the lilting melody brought back the memory of Dean waltzing with her around her hotel room.

Was that really only yesterday morning? Y/N thought. It felt like a lifetime ago.

She quickly made her way to the ladies room, incredibly grateful that it was empty while the rest of the audience watched the end of the show. She sat on one of the padded benches and tried to get ahold of herself. This whole evening had been a mistake. After their disastrous goodbye earlier, Y/N should have begged off.

As it turned out, pretending she was fine when her heart was splintering into tiny pieces was actually remarkably difficult.

After a minute or two, Y/N felt a little more in control, and splashed some cold water on her face at the sink, patting it dry with her handkerchief and then tucking it back in her purse. She took a big breath and walked back through the door, stopping dead in her tracks when she saw the man waiting for her just outside.

“I saw you run this way.” Byron Temple said in a dark voice. “I thought I should come make sure you were alright.”

Y/N squeezed her hands into fists, immediately disliking the fact that the ladies room was tucked away under the stairs, hidden from the main lobby. She supposed it was designed to give ladies some privacy, but that was the last thing she wanted right now.

She licked her lips and tried to smile. “That's very kind. But I'm fine, thank you. Just powdering my nose. If you'll excuse me, Dean will be waiting for me.”

She tried to step past him, but he snagged her wrist and pushed her further under the stairs. She tugged against his hold, trying to break it, but he held firm.

“Don't know why you're running back to that bastard. I can see that he's made you cry.” He ran his thumb across her cheek and she slapped his hand away. He merely chuckled.

“I told you before, pet, to call on me when Winchester sets you aside. And I'm guessing by the tension between you two, and the tears staining your cheeks now, that it's either happened or is just about to happen.”

“I don't know what you're talking about.” Y/N said in a harsh whisper. “Now unhand me and leave me alone.”

“Don't be like that, pet. I promise that I can offer you a lot more than he can. I'll show you just how a woman like you should be treated.”

Y/N yanked on her wrist again, speaking quietly but angrily. “You are disgusting and vile and I want nothing to do with you, do you hear me? Now let go of me this instant, or I’ll tell Dean what you've said here and he’ll-”

Byron laughed. “No you won't, and if you did, so what? Do you honestly think he’d care when he’s done with you anyway? Do you really believe he's going to toss away the massive deal that’s been brokered between our companies, a deal that’s been six months in the making - just because I upset his little whore?”

Y/N clenched her jaw, embarrassment spreading through her at the degrading insult. But she had no doubt of her answer. “Yes. I know he would.”

But Byron ignored her, yanking her up against him and shaking his head. “I think what you really need is a taste of what you're missing out on.”

Before she could even squeal a protest he slammed his mouth over hers, shoving his tongue past her closed lips and making her gag. Acting completely on instinct, Y/N bit down on the slimy muscle invading her mouth, making Byron swear and rip his mouth away from hers.

She could taste the coppery blood he left behind in her mouth, and then he backhanded her and the sharp taste of her own blood mixed with his.

“Fucking bitch.” He growled at her with quiet rage, pushing her backwards until she was shoved up against the wall. “I would have treated you so nice. But I guess now I have to show you what a real man does with nasty whores.”

He slammed his hand over her mouth and nose, cutting off her air and making her panic instantly. He bent his head slightly, attaching his foul mouth to her neck, while his other hand was shoved up her skirts, grabbing at her thigh and pulling at the ties on her drawers as she struggled against him.

Then suddenly he was ripped away from her and she bent double, gasping air into her starved lungs.

She looked up in time to see Dean smashing his fist into Temple's face, a loud crunch indicating that his nose was now broken. The older man fell to the ground with a howl and Dean immediately jumped on him, pummeling him endlessly with left and right blows, as blood spewed over the marble floor beneath them.

Coming out of her stupor, Y/N ran to Dean, pulling on his arm, just as a crowd began to gather. George Taskett pushed his way through the crowd to pull on Dean’s other arm, just barely managing to pry him off.

“What on earth is going on here?” He shouted, obviously very confused.

Dean was breathing harshly, and his tuxedo was askew, but otherwise Temple hadn't managed to get in even a single blow.

“I'll tell you what's happening!” Dean shouted. “The goddamn deal is off.”

Both Y/N and George gave Dean wide-eyed, disbelieving looks.

“Dean, don't.” Y/N said softly, beginning to tremble.

“What are you talking about, Winchester? What has gone on here?” George asked again, looking down at his Vice President laying on the ground as Byron covered his bleeding, broken nose and, horribly, spat out a tooth.

“If you think for one minute I'm going to do business with scum like this, a man so lacking in moralality that he would-,” Dean cut himself off and then waved dismissively at Temple, “well, then you're crazy.”

He grabbed Y/N's hand and quickly hustled her out through the gathered crowd. Y/N looked back helplessly at George Taskett, who seemed to be completely knocked for a loop.

Dean quickly hailed a cab and helped Y/N up into it. “Rialto Hotel, quickly.” He told the driver as he climbed in behind her. The driver clicked his tongue at the horses and they sped away.

Dean tried to look at her more closely in the dim light of the carriage, pushing her disheveled hair off of her face. But Y/N was shaking too hard now, as the terror of the situation came crashing down upon her. She just shook her head and buried her face in Dean’s chest, weeping uncontrollably now that she was safe.

Dean gave up trying to see her face and just wrapped his arms around her and held her close. He lifted her out of the cab when they arrived, and refused to put her down until they were inside the room.

She stood in the middle of the floor, while he quickly lit all the lamps and closed the curtains. Then he returned to where she stood and gently peeled her coat off of her shoulders. He stayed behind her to take the pins out of her hair, pulling it back off her face while she inhaled deep, shuddery breaths, finally calming down enough to speak softly to him.

“Thank you.”

Dean just shook his head and turned her to face him, moving her into the light a little more and trying once again to see the damage. She watched his face contort with rage all over again as he saw her split lip and the angry bruise she could feel pulsing under the skin of her right cheekbone.

But he gritted his teeth and his voice was gentle as he kissed her forehead. “Just wait here, sweetheart.”

He moved off to the bathroom and she heard him running the bath. Tears began to fall again as he came back and led her into the warmly lit room, filled with the scent of lavender.

He removed her clothes gently, and then helped her step into the tub. She looked back at him as he held her hand.

“Will you hold onto me?”

Dean nodded and stripped away his clothes quickly, stepping in behind her and sitting them both down in the warm, fragrant water.

For a little while he simply held her as she’d asked, pressing soft kisses to her temple and along her hairline. Eventually he took one of the clean cloths and ran it under the cold water tap for a moment before pressing it to the side of her face that was still throbbing.

“Y/N, what happened?” He finally whispered to her.

So she told him. Her voice was quiet and halting at first, but she eventually told him everything, including what had happened at the poker game.

Dean clicked his tongue. “Sweetheart, why didn't you tell me that sooner? I would have ended things with that snake immediately.”

“Exactly.” Y/N said with conviction. “That's why I didn’t tell you. I knew how important that deal was, how hard you'd worked on it, and I didn't want you to have to end it simply because of some insults from a jackass.”

Dean shook his head. “That wasn't something you needed to worry about.”

Y/N shrugged. “Of course it was. It was important to you.”

“Yes, but not more-” Dean cut himself off and Y/N felt him tense before he continued

“You should have told me.”

Y/N nodded. “Yes, I should have.”

Dean was quiet for a minute before pulling the cloth away from her cheek and kissing her there gently. “Ready to get out?”

She nodded again and Dean stood up to help her out of the cooling water.

He dried her off and then combed gently through her hair before braiding it, pampering her in much the same way as he had that first night they’d spent in the hotel together. Y/N knew she would have started crying again, if she’d had any tears left to shed. But she'd finally cried herself out and now she was just exhausted.

Dean tucked her into bed and seemed to hesitate a moment before climbing in after her and pulling her back against his warm chest. Her heart hurt, and her head ached, but despite that, her tired mind slipped, fairly quickly, into a very restless sleep.

Some time in the middle of the night Y/N woke to find Dean wasn't beside her. She sat up quickly and sighed in relief when she saw him sitting in one of the green chairs. The light in the room was dim, just one lamp burning, and he was cast in shadows.

“What are you doing?” Y/N called to him softly.

Dean got up and came to sit on the bed facing her. “You punched me twice in your sleep, and I thought maybe I was making you have bad dreams, holding you the way I was.”

Y/N shook her head and shuddered. “No. You weren't the bad guy in my dreams.” She whispered.

Dean pushed her braid back off her shoulder. “I'm so sorry, sweetheart. I'm sorry I brought him anywhere near your life.”

Y/N frowned. “But it isn't your fault. You couldn't have known. I'm just grateful for the rescue.” She took a deep breath. “You know…he's the reason - one of the reasons - I said no to your offer.”

Dean tensed. “Y/N…”

But she just continued. “Or, well, men just like him. He called me…” The word stuck in her throat and she cleared it. “He called me a whore, you know. And…he wouldn't be the only one. Most of the world would believe the same, if I stayed with you.”

Dean's jaw ticked, but he nodded. “Yes, I understand. And I’m sorry for that. The world can be an ugly, hypocritical place.”

He licked his lips. “But what I’ve offered you, Y/N, it's…it's all I can offer. I can't…I won't get married, and I won't love you.”

Y/N felt what was left of her heart shatter completely.

Dean spoke softly, shaking his head. “I can't, sweetheart. I won't.” He reiterated before taking a shaky breath. “But you and Jessica are right.”

Y/N frowned, trying hard to keep the ever present tears at bay. “Jessica?”

“Yeah,” he scoffed slightly, “she took me to task earlier tonight. Said I had no right to make an offer like that to a respectable lady.”

He shrugged and one corner of his mouth lifted. “And she was right. You deserve more out of life than to be ostracized by the world. You deserve to get what you always wanted, what you told me you wanted all those months ago.”

He smiled at her gently and ran his fingers along her jaw. “You deserve contentment, children, a respectable cottage and a…” He paused and cleared his throat, nodding as though he was answering a question in his own mind. “And a compatible husband.”

Y/N wanted to shout at him that he'd made those things impossible now, that she wouldn’t find contentment without him, that the compatible husband she'd always wanted was sitting right in front of her.

But she didn't say any of that; he'd made his feelings very clear, and she couldn't fault him for not loving her. It wasn't a given that just because she loved him with every fiber of her being, he was going to love her back.

“I won't love you.”

At least he wasn’t lying to her - trying to hold onto her under false pretenses.

She smiled at him now, through her brokenness. “Yes, I'll hope for those things, I guess. But…”

She swallowed hard and tugged on his hand. “Will you come back to bed, and do those things you do to me that make me forget everything else? Kiss me until the world fades away to nothing but you and me?”

As he leaned in to claim her mouth in a searing kiss, Dean's bright green eyes glittered like jewels and she knew in that moment, that emeralds would always make her cry.

***

Y/N woke late the next morning and she wasn’t surprised by the empty bed beside her. She'd felt Dean disappear from her before the sun had even broken over the horizon.

She sat up and saw the note that was tucked under her snow globe on the table. She wrapped the sheet around her and walked over to sit gingerly on the edge of the chair that was closest. She stared down at the folded piece of paper for a couple of minutes before picking it up and unfolding it.

Dean's neat, bold handwriting took up the whole page.

Y/N read over the short note several times, hoping to find something more than the words on the page, but that was it.

She folded it back up and let it flutter to the floor as she wound up her snow globe and set it down on the table, staring at it as she rested her chin on her folded arms. For a long time, as her tears flowed silently, she drank in the frozen scene of permanent joy that could never be hers.

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britcision · 2 months

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FRIENDS IT IS HERE. As promised even! We are technically just under 20k for this chapter, but still not small enough that cutting it in half has stopped it from brutally murdering the app, so…. We’ll see how this posts! 😅

I did myself a whole honkin’ reread on the whole thing too, refreshed my lil reminders of what I named things and all the lil threads I was playing with… and hot damn it’s a beast huh?

The good news is, although we are getting into plot, we are getting out of the heavy stuff, at least for the next little bit! Back to our silly happy fun times with the boys 🥰

And, y’know, dealing with Jason’s death and first transformation and all. Totally all fine! Nothing to worry about! 😇

Today’s chapter is a lil Bruce-heavy in this front half because the main thing stopping me was that I got most of the way through before I realized I needed to rewrite Jason’s entire first scene, but I’m a lot happier with it now 😁

First Chapter and AO3:

Previous Chapter:

——————————

The Finished Core part 1

When it finally happened, Jason’s core coming in was pretty anticlimactic. For all they’d worried it might trigger a transformation, rile up the pit, or even have a physical shockwave… the event itself was almost disappointing. Buried busily in some paperwork for the library, Jason himself hadn’t actually noticed.

He’d already started feeling what he thought might be his core over the past few days; like a vibrating ball of energy, usually in the middle of his chest (although it wandered in all directions). Which would make the knot of tension that sometimes sat in his gut and sometimes went as far up as his throat… probably Pitty.

Not fun having a distinct sensation that went along with everything else the Pit was. Did nothing at all to ease his worries about what the hell would happen when they were both actually completed.

But when the day finally came… yeah, nothing. The soft, warm glow in his chest when he thought about the project had grown steadily stronger over the week and a bit he’d known Danny at that point, so he hadn’t really paid enough attention to notice a change.

They’d still been seeing each other every day, although now that the new school semester had started up it had slowed down to a couple hours in the evening. Jason had dived headlong into his restoration project both on Frostbite’s advice, and to keep himself from counting the hours. Which, apparently, worked?

The biggest disruption was actually Danny blasting in through the wall not a minute later, invisible until he dived through one of Jason’s freshly legal goons and almost knocked the table over. Luckily there were no actual Red Hood links lying around - Catherine’s name was staying clean, which was for the best since Jason still hadn’t thought of a way to bring it up.

Even now, back from another appointment with Frostbite to confirm all was well, Jason didn’t actually feel any different? It was official though; both cores were complete, and now all they had to do was wait until the pit matured enough to actually leave Jason’s body and do its own thing.

Now that he didn’t have any choice but to confront it, he couldn’t have said what he’d expected anyway, but… well, surely there should have been something? More energy? More corruption? Hell, even increased ghost senses or some indication that the powers would be coming in.

According to Danny, intangibility usually came with the pit dropping out of your stomach and feeling floaty. Accidental floating came with a head rush or feeling like falling. Invisibility just fucking happened.

All he felt was weirdly normal? The fancy ecto ice was working, and his little ghost succulent - that or all the time with Danny; even Pitty’s flares of emotion were manageable. The green haze hadn’t come back since meeting Lady Gotham.

And okay, maybe he was pushing that by going right back to the manor the next day, but listen. Frostbite had reminded him to do calming tasks, since Pitty should start being more aware of their surroundings now.

Baking with Alfred was as calming and soothing as Jason could imagine, without stapling himself to Danny in classes. And sure, he’d helped with Danny’s homework the past couple nights, but the guy would get sick of him eventually. Faster if they stayed attached at the hip.

(And that had been another “fun” tidbit Frostbite had dropped on them; if they were actually making their own ghost baby, they’d have been able to trade the core off between them. Jason hadn’t thought anything could make that idea sound appealing, but if he coulda just stuffed Pitty into someone else… well, he probably wouldn’t actually wish its corruption and constant tantrums on anyone else, but having a break woulda been nice.)

Now that his core was done, technically the daily hanging out probably wasn’t as necessary. So long as Jason had some backup plans to keep himself calm and in control. Which should mean that they could go from hanging out as a necessary chore to just… friends.

And since no one in the city wound Jason up like Bruce, if he happened to also be at the manor he’d have a trial-by-fire for his shiny new core. He’d kept his word and tapped out of patrol since meeting Lady Gotham (and apparently Harley had taken the manor in fire and glory the night after and locked Bruce… somewhere for two full days), so he’d not heard from B since.

According to Tim, Constantine hadn’t returned to Gotham at all.

The thought of their names only stirred angry bubbles from Pitty, and Jason absolutely wasn’t self destructive or a masochist, so he was just testing to see how far that’d last. How careful he’d need to be, and how aware the little guy was.

So obviously he wasn’t even all the way into the manor before he ran into the man himself.

Stopping short, Jason’s fist clenched more from force of habit than any actual desire. Sucking in a deep breath, he thought of his ghost succulent (which had started glowing faintly blue a couple nights ago, which was hopefully a good thing?) and carefully unclenched. Nodded a little stiffly.

This would be the first time they’d been alone together since… shit, he didn’t even know. He hadn’t seen the guy without the buffer of at least one other bat in months.

“Bruce,” he said warily, half hoping the man could just… be normal. For once. Nod, say hi, fuck off about his own business. He couldn’t still be on his anti-Danny crusade, could he?

The man actually flinched, face twitching through a couple of expressions Jason couldn’t even guess at. A sudden urge between his shoulder blades did nothing to help, distracting him long enough for everything to be smoothed under the usual masks.

If Bruce just had a damn aura… okay, that’d be one change with the completed core. All of his attempts to reach out with his own aura before had basically involved his whole body actually leaning in the same direction.

That… urge, itch between his shoulders, if that had been his aura trying to reach out, felt more like an entirely new muscle group. Curiosity won and Jason focused, trying to follow the urge and reach out… and wasn’t sure it had worked at all.

Because all he could feel was sorrow and regret, and that didn’t sound like B. At all. His compartmentalizing was out the ass, sure, but what the hell would he actually feel sorry for?

“Jason?” And from the sound of it, not the first time he’d said his name. Great.

Shelving the apparently-faulty aura for now, Jason frowned back.

“I’m here to see Alfred.” It wasn’t exactly a warning. Wasn’t exactly a threat, although it carried the possibility. Meant that if B pissed him off enough to leave, he’d face some British disapproval.

Bruce’s shoulders sagged just a little, and then he drew himself up, his face firm and resolved. Jason tensed automatically; if he actually tried to bar him from seeing Danny face to face, would he still be able to walk away?

That was why he’d brought the glacierfrost. Slipping a hand into his back pocket, he crushed a crystal quickly before the man could open his mouth. Wintergreen mint burst across the back of his tongue, another brief flicker of distraction that, for some reason, came with another pang of sorrow.

“I’m sorry.”

Jason nearly stumbled, and he hadn’t even been moving. Bruce looked… tired, all of a sudden. More tired than he could remember ever seeing him.

“Wait… what?”

Bruce gave him a sad smile.

“It’s been brought to my attention… multiple times… that you should have heard that from me alone first. And then I kept adding more and more to be sorry for. And I know you don’t want to see me, so now seems like the best time to start.” It was jerky, and awkward, and probably the most uncomfortable Jason had ever seen Bruce in a conversation.

Which only served to confuse him further. Bruce overplanned everything; he never acted without at least two layers of backups. It was why he had a million plans for every possible micro-scenario. He didn’t do spontaneous.

“What are you even talking about?” He asked, half exasperated, and Bruce’s smile widened a fraction. That only made it more self deprecating.

“There are too many things to count, but… Jason, I’m sorry I sprung the apology on you at the gala. I thought having the world as my witnesses would show you I meant it, but I should have asked first. I should have apologized first, to you. Alone. I’m… aware what it says about me that I couldn’t.” He was almost wearing one of Brucie’s self-deprecating smiles now, but the edges were raw. Unpolished. Certainly not camera ready.

Real?

Jason’s mouth opened and closed a few times, his brain entirely short-circuited. Of all the things Bruce could have said to him… of all the things the man might apologize for, he’d honestly forgotten all about the damn gala speech.

Forcing himself to focus, he folded his arms and regarded his former father figure warily.

“Sure, that’s a place to start,” he agreed, more sarcastically than he’d meant to. But he couldn’t take it back.

There was another moment of stiffness, and then Bruce’s shoulders sagged as well as he breathed out, still looking… well, so much more human. More breakable, more fallible. Or was that just from hearing him admit he’d been wrong?

“I do mean it, Jason. I did mean it,” he said softly, piercing blue eyes unusually gentle as he looked him over, and suddenly Jason knew what was bothering him.

The mask. The iron mask of Batman, the bumbling shield of Brucie. B always had a mask, over every interaction. Every situation, every possible scene, B always had a character to play. And he played them well.

That was what looked wrong about him. He wasn’t… intentional. His posture was open and unthreatening, his face lax in a way it never was while he held every muscle in check.

This was just actual, sincere B.

Jason wasn’t completely sure why that made him want to run or cry, but it said a fuck of a lot about him too.

More that he just couldn’t bring himself to return it.

Sucking in a sharp breath, seriously considering grabbing for another crystal, he nodded sharply.

“Okay. Now what.” Because that was the thing; Jason had never wanted B to be sorry that he hadn’t come for Jason. That he finally hadn’t been on time to save him from himself.

He didn’t want the apology, he wanted things to change. To be better. For Bruce to accept that it had happened, and Jason was who he was now because he’d decided to be, not the pits or Tallia or the Joker.

He wanted so many things.

Bruce was searching his face, eyes sharp even as he consciously kept the rest of the expression open. Jason could see the tick of muscle in his cheek. Fuck, was it that hard for Bruce not to put on the act?

After a moment, he spread his hands. A gesture of peace? Not holding a weapon, not tensed for an attack?

“That’s all. For now. I just… wanted you to know. I’m sorry. And I’m…” the expression pulled a little, becoming pained, “I have been told I am overreacting to the news from Amity Park as well. I should trust your judgement. So I’m pulling myself from the case to focus on the Anti-Ecto Acts.”

This time Jason’s jaw just dropped. B… Bruce never. Never pulled himself from a case. Not for broken bones, ruptured organs, not even if he’d died.

It was almost worse than the rage; all of a sudden he was lost at sea, the one grounding, immovable rock in his life swept away. Part of him was even angry at that - at B suddenly deciding that now, this time he was going to be reasonable.

When all Jason expected from him was judgement, antagonism, stupid overbearing demands and being held at arm’s length, now all of a sudden the Bat was human.

It was too late to pretend the moment hadn’t happened, to completely hide his shock, but he also couldn’t stop the bluster from rising. Not the way his eyes narrowed suspiciously, even when every part of him that had been Robin desperately hoped this was real.

“And what the hell brought that on?” Not the accusation in his voice, although for once Bruce didn’t rise to it. He just chuckled dryly, like he’d been expecting Jason’s reaction.

“Because you were right.”

And now Jason was fully on edge again, scanning the man more closely for any signs of hypnotism, mind control, that this was a clone or a replacement. A trap or a trick. Because B… Bruce would never…

Bruce raised both hands quickly, possibly expecting Jason to just… jump him. Which, to be fair, would have been a more normal interaction.

“You were the one who brought the Amity Park situation to our attention. And you’re right, that I can’t expect your doctor or any other ghost to come here to help you until it is safe for them to do so,” he added quickly, and Jason rocked back onto his heels.

Of course, the caveat. That made sense, bitter in the back of his throat as it was. Just an inarguable set of facts.

Not like he’d ever actually admit that Jason’s judgement was reliable or anything. Folding his arms again (partly to stop his fists from clenching), he gave Bruce a sceptical look.

“Right, so what finally yanked your head out of your ass about it?” He asked sharply. Bruce gave him that same wry smile.

“Diana. And Harley. And Alfred. And Selena. I have been… extensively informed I had my head up my ass. So. I’m sorry for that too. I just wanted to tell you before I left, since I don’t know when we’ll see each other again.”

And it shouldn’t have been funny that he actually looked more pained talking about this, admitting a mistake, than he had when nursing broken ribs in the infirmary. Than he’d looked during any of their fights, than when Jason had all but grabbed his face and forced him to see that it really was him, that his dear little Robin came back wrong.

But dark humour was a refuge for all the bats, and if Jason didn’t laugh he had a horrible feeling he’d cry. All that tension, all those days he’d worried about what he’d say or do when they came face to face again… he’d never have imagined any of this.

Could imagine another bloody battle before imagining Bruce saying sorry.

All of a sudden he was just tired. Ha. Dead tired.

Nothing drained the life out of him like dealing with Bruce.

“Great. So where are you going?” It was almost a rhetorical question; he didn’t really expect an answer.

Should have, though. Obviously B had to stick his foot in it again.

“Amity Park. As Bruce Wayne, not Batman,” he added quickly when Jason’s head snapped up, glare sharpening, “it seems the logical place to begin work on the acts.”

And alright, Bruce didn’t sound defensive. He never did; just obstinate, which meant so many things that guessing when it meant what was a losing game.

Jason groaned loudly, raising both hands to scrub down across his face. Because of course all that weirdness hadn’t changed a damn thing. B was gonna B, creepy and intrusive and all.

“And look into Danny.” He said flatly, locking eyes with Bruce in time to see his expression twitch. Was he actually gonna lie?

Apparently not. Bruce sighed and nodded.

“My focus will be on establishing a connection between “Brucie” and the Anti-Ecto Acts, and investigating the GIW. Danny has been involved in both, and Zatanna has requested the elder Fentons provide me with protection,” he said like it was anything but a weak excuse.

Jason stared at him for a long moment, and then figured fuck it. Actually telling them before he left was technically still an improvement, and Danny and Jason were both well aware that there was gonna be some nosy bullshit.

He’d warned Danny this was gonna happen, and Danny had said it was fine. That he didn’t care about anything Batman might find… and knowing just how badly the Justice League had fucked up was going to eat the asshole alive. Which he could have avoided just by listening.

About to just walk away, Jason hesitated. There was actually one thing… technically not a necessary for a halfa, but fuck it. Might as well get B used to some ghostly etiquette early.

“Have you asked Danny?”

Bruce stilled, giving Jason a complicated look that mostly felt like judgement. Like Jason should know better than to ask.

“I was under the impression that removing the Anti-Ecto Acts is a priority?” He said stiffly, all awkward tension again.

Jason really did roll his eyes this time.

“Sure, but you’re going to his haunt. You text Superman before investigating in Metropolis.” Which technically hadn’t even been true when Jason was actually Robin, but B did text Clark before getting caught investigating in Metropolis. By anything but Kryptonian hearing.

The protocol basically only applied whenever another hero wanted to operate within Gotham because only Batman cared, but it was on the League’s books.

Bruce had picked up the wording though, because of course he had.

“His haunt?” He asked carefully, that tiny tick between his brows that meant he was processing starting up.

Jason rolled his eyes harder. For emphasis. Had JL Dark actually missed this part of the briefing? He was so not writing up Ghost Etiquette 101 for the league. No way.

But. It. Might be kinda cool. To have for himself. Especially since it was gonna be increasingly relevant.

“He’s a ghost hero, B. He died there, he protects the city. He’s like, the only one who’ll actually get your territorial crap, because in his case it’s part of his makeup.”

Actually, might be part of B’s too. Danny hadn’t said how liminal Bruce in particular was, but it really wouldn’t surprise Jason if claiming a haunt was part of it. Or if Lady Gotham had already picked out a spot for him.

That thought stung, so he dismissed it immediately and turned towards the kitchen. Hell with the brownies he’d been planning, he was gonna need something much more complicated to keep his mind off the latest wave of bullshit.

Alfred liked soufflés. Jason could activate the house defences to keep the little gremlins out until they were done.

“Just fucking text him, B. Entering a ghost’s haunt without permission is declaring intent to throw down, and that’s a fight none of us need.” No matter how much he might like to watch B go up against the ridiculous power-set Danny was packing.

Sure, the Bat went toe to toe with the gods, but that was with plans, tech, and often, backup. Apparently he still didn’t know shit about ghosts, so it’d be fun to watch him try and adapt on the fly… especially when even Danny wasn’t sure how many actual powers were on the table.

Bruce hesitated for a long moment, looking at Jason’s retreating back.

That had gone… frankly he did not trust his own read on Jason enough to tell. Neither of them had yelled. He’d said what he was prepared to; he was still working on the appropriate format for the rest.

Jason… hadn’t reacted. Not with anger, which was a blessed relief, but not with anything else either. Except disbelief. Exasperation. Shock.

Not really any aggression, though. That had to be a decided improvement. And while part of Bruce suspected he’d been told to inform Danny so the boy could hide anything unsavoury….

He’d known that was likely to happen when he told Jason his plans. Jason would tell Danny; his allegiances there were firmly (and worryingly quickly) established.

Telling Danny himself… there was a chance that Jason had been serious about it being a matter of protocol. A formal request, for contact with an inter-dimensional entity.

Despite that entity being present and active in Bruce’s own city without so much as a nod to the Bat. But then, Batman was not a ghost, despite what the goons liked to suppose.

Firmly marshalling his own suspicions, Bruce pulled out his phone to message the youngest Fenton.

Stopped.

Bruce Wayne didn’t have the boy’s number. But Danny knew at least Nightwing’s identity; it was possible he knew them all.

He was going to Amity Park as Brucie Wayne, not Batman. But Brucie Wayne had no way to get the correct phone number. Unexpected contact from Batman was… well, expected, to an extent.

And his investigations would be handled and presented as Batman. Surely no one would challenge Brucie Wayne to a fight?

Mind made up, Bruce took his vigilante phone out and did a quick scan through his childrens’ updated contact lists. Most of them seemed to have been enjoying the company of the Amity Parkers; it wouldn’t be hard to get Danny’s contact information.

So. New year, new problems. Danny used to say it as a joke, but this year it was looking pretty darn literal.

Last year, for example, he hadn’t had to worry about his parents finding out about his supposed “love life” from a magazine (that Jazz must have sent them after they’d gone back to Amity Park, the traitor), and calling to hound him for details.

He’d managed to talk them out of driving the GAV straight to Gotham to threaten Jason into “treating him right”… which Jason thought was funny solely because he still didn’t actually know how large Jack Fenton was, nor how intense Maddie could be.

He still thought of them as civilians, and maybe a little less than competent, thanks to the database and their zero capture record.

Maybe Danny was cultivating that ignorance specifically so he could watch the moment of truth in person. Sue him, it was funny.

Unfortunately, since the magazine had also included that the gala they’d been “hooking up” at had been to celebrate Jason’s return from the dead, his mom had reached the halfa conclusion on her own. Danny had wanted to let Jason decide when to tell her, but that very first phone call the first words out of her mouth had been “Daniel James Fenton, have you met another halfa without telling us?”

And Danny had been so taken aback by them actually noticing anything (it was to do with ghosts, of course they’d noticed, he’d kicked himself for days after) that she’d taken his speechlessness as confirmation.

So.

They had that out of the way before they even said hi.

Despite Danny’s firm assurances that he and Jason weren’t actually dating, the papers were making the whole thing up (the photos hadn’t helped, but his dad seemed to buy that he’d been. Trying to help Jason fix his shirt. After the rogue attack, y’know), his parents had insisted on another call with Jason.

And Jazz. Because he had to introduce his sister to his new boyfriend too.

Jason had… taken it well? Hadn’t gotten much of a word in edgewise, around Jack Fenton’s boisterous laughter and insistence that he come around some time soon. He’d agreed with Danny that they definitely were not dating, which.

They weren’t.

They just weren’t.

They were just. Friends. Who hung out after classes in the evening. And texted all day. And told each other their deepest darkest soul secrets in like, a week after they’d met.

Danny’s mom had seemed a little more convinced by the end of the call, but still insisted Jason should come down to Amity Park anyway, to get to know the family.

Danny was still in denial about it being even a little bit helpful, but Jason had decided to drop the Fright Knight bomb right away. It was the actual real reason they were so close now, so it made sense as an explanation that wasn’t them being partners or whatever.

(Danny still hated it. Resented he couldn’t be trusted to just… have a friend. It always had to be something stupid and dramatic.

And he was totally offended by how immediately relieved his mom had been that he’d have someone “looking after him”. Like he wasn’t a whole ass adult for years already, and the king of a realm for longer than that.)

And now he was gonna have to call them back, and probably get a message to Fright Knight, because Danny’s newest problem was that Batman now had his phone number.

And was asking his permission to go to Amity Park to deal with the Anti-Ecto Acts.

(“Brucie Wayne” was officially the one going for the Acts, the message only said that Batman would be escorting the billionaire and gathering evidence separately, but Danny wasn’t fucking buying it.

And since Batman had his phone number and had used it, Tucker could technically get into Batman’s phone and prove it. Like Constantine showing up at Wayne Manor left a shadow of a doubt.

But noooo, Danny knew all about dramatics and billionaires and their sketchy underground labs. He could play along.)

Which, technically, might wind up solving one of his biggest problems.

It was also gonna completely ruin all the work he and Jason had done persuading the Fentons they weren’t dating; he could already hear his dad booming delightedly about meeting future in-laws. Because why else would Jason’s dad go to visit?

Not like there were actual laws on the books declaring Danny as a mandatory extermination target. Or like the Justice League might finally have gotten their thumbs out of their asses and want to check in.

Clearly Danny’s love life was the only thing that mattered.

At least he wouldn’t have to worry about that crap from Frighty; all the ghosts were gonna know all about Danny and Jason’s soul resonance (be still his beating fucking heart that was still ridiculous). He would have to let him know a superhero was gonna be in town though.

Actual ghosts weren’t likely to mistake Batman for one of their own and these days most of Danny’s rogue gallery was cool about not picking fights with humans without Fenton tech, but Danny figured better safe than sorry.

And.

Maybe.

Really wanted to see Batman and Fright Knight hang out. They were gonna totally love or totally hate each other, and either way he was a little sorry he was gonna miss it.

Unless he gave in and took time off class, kidnapped Jason from whatever work he did, and made the trip home… because he’d been direly warned that if he did show up without Jason, Jack Fenton would drive him back to Gotham personally. So, no. Nope. Not happening.

The long and the short of it was that instead of being blissfully free of his parents nagging him to visit until the summer, he was now fielding calls and texts demanding he come back home for March Break, at the latest. And bring Jason.

Mom wanted to “assess him”, which was fucking terrifying and the more Jason didn’t take it seriously the more Danny was tempted to actually make the trip. It would at least come with a defined end date. And force Jazz to take a break if she wanted to come too.

She at least had been less insistent on calling him every single day to bug him about it; probably because she was busy frying herself to death at university. She’d apologized for missing the group chat too, and the first family phone call, but it wasn’t a huge surprise.

Jazz had had the helicopter parent firmly knocked out of her by double majors, which Danny used to think was a good thing. Now he considered it might actually be a sign she was… not cracking under the pressure? But not taking care of herself.

Hopefully it wouldn’t return full force once she got some actual sleep and decent food in her.

Honestly, Danny wasn’t unaware that this was the most normal his problems had ever been. Just a few years ago he’d have done anything but wish to Desiree that his biggest problem would be “my parents think I’m dating one of my friends”.

Right now it was looking pretty good too, actually. Because at this precise second, Danny’s biggest problem was that he was running out of excuses not to talk to Nocturn.

***

Tim was beginning to think he had a bit of a crush on Tucker Foley. It was a surprise to him as much as anyone else; normally the kind of fawning adoration that tech geeks usually followed him with was an instant turn off. There was just… no point getting close to people who saw him as an idea, not a person.

And, frankly? The mere existence of Timblr probably would have been a red flag for anyone else. Sure, Tucker had closed it down, but it still existed - and Tucker Foley could have taken care of that easily.

The thing was… even under the hero worship he’d caught in Tucker’s eyes when they were first introduced… well, Tucker wasn’t exactly respectful to his heroes. That did tend to follow along with a friend in a teen hero career; everyone else was instantly less cool by association.

Tucker just plain wasn’t a good fanboy. He hung on Tim’s every word, right up until they started talking tech - the subject he most admired Tim for. Didn’t admire him enough not to cut him off half way through an explanation, call an idea “archaic”, or ask if Tim was serious.

(And okay, once or twice he hadn’t been; just testing his technical chops.)

The thing was, Tucker wasn’t only a genius with regular technology, he was a prodigy in an entirely new field of software and occult collusion, and he knew it. He was delighted to upgrade Tim’s systems (although Danny would still need to do the full ecto-infusions; Tucker could interface, but didn’t produce his own ectoplasm), and more than happy to point out everywhere they needed improving.

Tim genuinely respected his opinion, which wasn’t a distinction he gave to many people who’d never worn a cape; he’d already cc’d the other, Lucius Fox, into his and Tucker’s email chains. (Lucius was very enthusiastic about the oncoming apprenticeship - for him.)

And Tucker was funny, allergic to personal privacy, and… well, Tim was pretty sure he’d felt those first twinges when, as promised, he tagged Tucker in to help interrogate the Riddler.

Digitally, obviously. With Tucker’s classes starting back up and the New Years hangovers finally clearing the board, the next time they saw each other in person might be upsettingly far out. But Tucker had cheerfully hacked his way into Gotham PD’s systems and made himself comfortable while Red Robin and Batwoman waited for Riddler to be brought in.

Tim had so few pure pleasures in his life, but watching Kate try to keep a straight face when the interrogation room’s speakers began blasting what was essentially a stripper theme perfect for Eddie Nygma the second the door closed?

Riddler had been utterly baffled as well, talking over the beginning until they reached the chorus, where the singer practically spelled out his name. His stunned silence had given way to a burst of offended protest that was entirely undercut by the way his fingers kept time.

As the teen hero in the room, Red Robin was allowed to snicker at him, but Batwoman had to pretend to be an adult about it.

And when the first song ended, silence had fallen for what must have been a perfectly calculated fifteen seconds, and then the Jeopardy theme began playing.

Of course, soundtracking hadn’t been Tucker’s only contribution to the interrogation, just Tim’s favourite. Red Robin had the tablet from the gala back from evidence, from which Tucker had cheerfully admitted in Matrix style scrolling green text that he’d been the one back-hacking Nygma’s files… and locking him out of them.

And replacing every single link Nygma had clicked from the night of the gala to the day Batwoman hauled him in to a random page from Riddles.com, which Riddler had declared a new vendetta against every time anyone would listen. It was beautiful.

Robins were professionally annoying, it was part natural talent on all of their parts (except Damian) and part intensive training on how to disrupt thought patterns and push people into mistakes. Tucker could have led the class, and Tim had been overtaken by a powerful urge to kiss the smug grin he could feel through Tucker’s text straight off his face.

Of course, Tim had a boyfriend. And had been overtaken more than once by similar urges for almost every one of his friends, when they did something brilliant.

Steph called it oral fixation, Tim preferred positive reinforcement. Conner found the whole thing extremely funny, especially since Tucker still stumbled over his words if Conner was so much as looking at him.

Which made all of his siblings trying to tease him about Tucker’s “crush” on Tim look ridiculous, by the way. Tucker Foley was not a subtle man; he couldn’t even string a sentence together around someone he actually liked.

He could string plenty of sentences together around Tim, the two of them could finish each others’ half the time.

(He wasn’t upset about Tucker’s obvious interest in Conner either; Tim knew damn well his boyfriend was an incredible catch and he was lucky to have him. Tucker’s crush was just… peer review.)

Already he was counting down the days until March Break, when Tucker was going to visit in person again. Honestly, he might push to get a zeta put in nearer to MIT in the meantime.

It wasn’t like the institute was never targeted by supervillains, it would just be practical.

But Tim himself couldn’t suggest that now, because then all of his siblings would jump on the Tucker thing and he’d never hear the end of it. It was a dilemma… because even if Conner or Danny could just go and pick him up again, zeta was just faster.

It had nothing to do with missing time that Conner and Tucker were bonding, or being a puppy waiting for his master to come home, whatever Steph said.

(And honestly, Tucker Foley? Not exactly commanding “master” material. Until he was talking about his area of expertise. Then he was certain and confident and got this really attractive gleam in his eye…)

The quickest solution would be getting all of Team Phantom officially involved in the Justice League, of course. Then he wouldn’t even need to suggest it; close zeta access was vital for all of the heroes.

But Team Phantom couldn’t join the League until Phantom’s existence was no longer illegal. So they had to dismantle the Anti Ecto Acts. Bruce was investigating the GIW, and planning what he probably thought was a secret trip to Amity Park, but none of it was happening fast enough for Tim… because it probably wouldn’t be done by March Break. In two months.

He’d broken more than just the American government in two months; all it took was the right leverage. And a complete lack of self restraint.

So, y’know, Tim had a new side project in and around his other Gotham cases. All he needed was a house and then senate majority, and they could get those laws repealed the second the government came back from break.

Lois Lane was already working on the story, Clark would probably join Bruce in Amity Park (whether he knew Bruce was there or not) for interviews. There was only so much public pressure could do though, and that never worked fast enough either.

Not compared to Tim’s preferred methods. He liked the personal touch.

****

Fun fact, slower core formation? Had not meant slower ghost powers. Not in Jason’s case, anyway; not even a week after his core came in, a coffee cup had slipped straight through his hand and shattered on the floor.

He’d stopped handling Alfred’s good china that day, mindful of Danny’s many horror stories about the school lab’s glassware. Alfred hadn’t actually questioned it, although he’d gotten a couple of raised eyebrows when he slid a junk mug toward the kettle.

It was just a good thing he’d already cut down patrolling; he’d been planning to take a step back anyway for a while. Just until he got the balance right between being Red Hood and the newly resurrected Jason Todd.

He’d had to stop entirely, at least until he got the intangibility under control. Sure, becoming temporarily impervious to weapons would be convenient when he got to choose when it switched off or on. Phasing various limbs half way through solid surfaces and getting stuck though?

No.

Not a chance in Hell. That was not an acceptable risk.

Invisibility had started not long after, which had definitely complicated his trips to the manor; all the bats were good, but vanishing completely out of the blue? That would raise comment.

The good news was that the glacierfrost seemed to be helping there too; either because of the ecto in the ice, or just keeping his emotions regulated, which kept the powers from acting up. Jason wasn’t taking unnecessary risks, but he’d noticed that for at least a couple hours after a hit, he was in more control.

Intentionally turning the powers on was still a struggle, but apparently that’d just get better with time. And probably fighting - that was the common denominator under all his ghost problems.

Ghost Fight Club was officially starting the second he’d got the transformation down, but how exactly they were going to try and trigger that in a controlled environment was still… less clear than Jason would like.

They’d have to work it out soon though; the only other ability that was likely to kick in before he could transform was flight, according to Danny. Time was a-tickin’.

And… alright. It wasn’t like Jason was sat at home every night; that was what he and Danny were doing after school now that they’d cut back to at least a couple days a week. A little practice on budding ghost powers, with backup.

“Surveying his haunt” was what Danny called it, but it basically meant Danny going ghost and Jason putting on a domino he claimed he borrowed from Dick, and the two of them bouncing around the Alley. And occasionally Danny pushing him off roofs to see if flight had kicked in yet.

(It hadn’t, but he still had his grapples, and refused to let Danny rescue him from his own bullshit.)

Sensing the city’s natural ecto had gotten much easier with his core fully developed, and Danny was teaching him how to mark it with his own. Pitty’s ongoing corruption was fucking it up though; it was still producing corrupted ectoplasm, and actually more of it now that they were both whole.

(Jason had started sleeping with Frostbite’s ghost succulent next to his pillow. That was how he’d noticed the new blue glow, which he still meant to ask about. It was still firm and strong, and it… didn’t feel sick?)

Corrupted ecto reeked so strongly of that corruption that it was completely useless for anything else, apparently. So until they finally finished purging Pitty, what all their little adventures actually amounted to was tagging.

Danny made them special ecto-spray-paint, and they spent the nights finding weirder and weirder corners to spray a little mark onto. Jason would have liked to use something to do with Red Hood, for the symmetry, but. Well. He hadn’t worked out how to have that conversation yet.

He’d been making do with little ghost doodles. It had been years since he’d done any real graffiti art, but it was like riding a bike, and the ecto sprayed really well. A cartoon ghost wasn’t all that hard anyway; an elongated little blob, occasionally with little fangs or unattached clawed hands.

He’d been going for something like an Among Us bean, but Danny had declared that he was drawing Pitty, and well… it stuck. Doodling little Pit ghosts was the order of the day, ranging from cute little Pittys (modelling good behaviour, Danny called it) or vicious little bastards, depending on how both Jason and Pitty had been that day.

Because that was definitely one piece of good news, in with all the bullshit new ghost powers was causing. Before he’d felt surges of rage, the moments where the Pit was reaching out and trying to affect him. Universally bad, aggressive, and violent, pre-Danny.

He could kinda feel it all the time now, like a heated scarf draped over his body, or the constant breathing of a dog just behind his ear. It was quiet mostly, and he was beginning to suspect it had cost more energy than he’d ever expected for it to reach out to him at all.

For all that he’d worried about it being too much like raising a kid, it… well, the nice way to say it was probably that it wasn’t that bright. It could talk to him in ghostspeak, kind of; most of what he actually heard felt like emotional reactions, closer to speaking through auras than words despite how much it’d felt like it was crawling up his throat.

The Pit could handle basic concepts, recognised Danny’s name, but other than that? It mostly seemed to follow Jason’s emotional lead… and then dial it up to eleven. Which, yeah, was exactly what he’d been scared of when he thought it might be like, a whole ass person. Toddlers were terrifying little sponges.

Jason’s experience of kids wasn’t exactly what he’d call normal, sure, but Pitty was reminding him less of a kid and more and more of some kind of small and bitey animal.

Which, y’know, was a relief. Sort of. It wasn’t like he could fuck up an animal in the same way as he could a kid. Nowhere near the same level of responsibility.

Just. When he thought about the pit rage, the idea of it being attached to something which literally had fangs and claws was not exactly reassuring. Even at the size of a chihuahua.

A little impromptu art therapy while they marked his haunt wasn’t exactly helping with that part, but it wasn’t hurting. And he was trying to explain that feeling bad was not actually dangerous or harmful… via spray paint.

He was only about 70% sure that Pitty could see.

But it got him out and about, kept him in shape at least for swinging from roof tops, and gave him an excuse to hang out with Danny. It did involve actively avoiding anything he’d normally investigate (at least until he had a reasonable explanation… or brought up the Red Hood thing)… but it felt good. It was soothing.

Even knowing full well he’d made plans, prepared extensively, still had his guys making sure the Alley was safe and all was well, he still found himself itching to patrol on the nights he stayed in.

He could only assume that was part of the whole Haunt thing; he had good people working under him, and a couple of bright lieutenants that while he’d never let them wear the hood, he was comfortable giving them some solo enforcement missions to keep the fear of Red Hood in everyone’s hearts. All relevant parties, anyway.

Luckily he still had the library project as a convenient excuse for the bats. It kept them off his ass, and Jason could admit that it probably wouldn’t have taken much to persuade him to take a night run.

And get his ass stuck half way through some fucking wall somewhere, or lose a foot to a rooftop, and need to break himself free or call Danny in the fucking suit. Nope.

(He’d been tempted to let his family think he was saving his nights for Danny, which wasn’t even completely untrue; Danny wasn’t over every night anymore, not with his school schedule, but if he wasn’t over they texted.

Jason had begun saving a meme folder just for things to show Danny, which had quickly absorbed his full folder for death jokes and just kept going. Danny was going to be a very supportive “father” for their fake pit-kid, and had clearly been stockpiling dad jokes to send back.)

Honestly though, Jason was just relieved he’d already planned to slow the vigilante side for a while in the wake of his official revival; there was a lot that had to be done to come back from the dead, and a lot more he could do with official Wayne backing for areas of Crime Alley that Hood couldn’t touch.

He’d even let some of the bats in on those plans before Danny showed up; it wasn’t a surprise that he wasn’t patrolling. They were mostly leaving him alone about it, although Dick had offered to pop his Red Hood gear on and run a couple of patrols if things got too rowdy.

Jason had told him to fuck off, then got his street kids spreading the rumour that Hood was gearing up for something big. Let people think that the momentary quiet was just the first rumbles for an oncoming storm.

Hell, let them think Hood was in cahoots with Jason Todd-Wayne; that or preparing to run him out of the Alley. Let both of his lives work together for a while. The rumours shut half the fucking low-level dealers up; no one was pushing anything within three blocks of his territory, in case Hood was planning an expansion.

That’d boil over after a while and bite him in the ass if he didn’t go and kick something down, but for now it worked. He had so much to do for the library, for the new shelters from the Wayne foundation, for the soup kitchens. He actually was pretty busy, even on his nights in.

Fuck, he’d even taken time to hang out with the actual Alley kids, as Jason and Hood. The mouthy little shits kept him grounded, and maybe he’d tried it as a trial run for Pitty, but since that wasn’t gonna be the same problem he’d kept it up as a test of his own patience.

Which had. Very abruptly. Become the cause of one of his biggest concerns. Because the biggest change since his core came in had actually taken him a couple more days to notice.

Because now, Jason could see the fingerprints of the new entity.

That hadn’t been fun to work out; he’d been intentionally taking it slow until his core formed. Part of him had been sorta hoping to be able to just avoid anything that might set them both off until the Pit was ready to pop out on its own. Nothing related to the new case he couldn’t start, nothing related to the Joker or pits or any of that shit.

So when some of the kids had been showing up with some weird shadowy smudge on their clothes, he’d assumed it was the usual Gotham grime. They claimed not to see it, he threw them at the laundry room and cussed them out, it always came off.

Now the Curse, the Curse was staying out of Crime Alley entirely. He’d seen it during the day once or twice, a shadow attached where it shouldn’t be, a flicker over Damian or Tim’s shoulder. He always knew when the Curse was around now, a frosty fog filled his lungs whenever it was close.

(Danny had called it his “ghost sense”, which was lame but Jason didn’t have a better idea.)

And those smudges didn’t have the same kind of ozone-aftertaste that the Curse left in his mouth.

And then one of his girls, maybe seven years old, had come in with that same kind of smeared shadow sticking through soft black hair. He’d had some sharp fucking words with the older kids about that, he didn’t expect them to stay pristine at all times, but for fucks sake it was clumping.

Basic hygiene fucking mattered on the street, none of them could afford a proper de-matting or even a decent razor to shave their heads, so Jason had instilled the importance of bare-minimum finger combing in every one of them years ago. You could live with a fucking rug dragging at your skull, but it made absolutely everything harder.

He’d sat the girl on a stool and washed her hair in a bucket himself, while repeating the same fucking lecture to the other girls. Noticed half way through that while the sticky shit was indeed washing out of her hair, it wasn’t being broken down by the soap.

It was clinging to him instead, seeping into the creases of his fingers and under his nails. He’d tried not to visibly react, giving her a last rinse and wrapping her hair in a towel-hat that she didn’t stop touching for the next forty minutes, fucking it up a dozen times.

The smudgy crap had washed off his hands eventually, but when he saw Danny the next day he’d visibly backed up a few steps, then given Jason about six shots of ecto because his was apparently rancid again. No prizes for spotting the connection, and from there it was obvious.

And then he’d seen Harley the next day, that same smudgy crap a handprint around her fucking throat, and he’d seen red. Hot, angry, blood red, and it not being green had startled the life out of him.

(Harley noticed. Duh. It was her thing. And while Jason couldn’t just tell her some malevolent fucking entity made from her shitty ex was crawling through the city, he’d been as honest as he could be.

Harley definitely couldn’t see the smudges. Danny hadn’t had any answers or way to make it stop fucking touching people.)

Hypothetically, this was all gonna be good in the end. It’d make things easier, being able to see and track this shitstain’s work.

It did not feature in his “don’t get pissed off or think about work” plan.

It was just faintly possible that obsession, self flagellation, and a desire to be personally responsible for fucking everything might be more than just Bruce’s problem. Could maybe be a family affair.

Jason made more pies. Occasionally narrating what he was doing aloud, half for Pitty’s benefit and half for Danny’s when the little shit was crashing on his couch.

It was fine. He was coping. Another couple weeks, Danny reckoned, and Pitty would be out of his body and he could get back to his fucking life.

With a pet Pit ghost in tow, apparently, but if the worst came to the worst he could fucking soup the thing once it was outside him.

(He was also going to teach Danny to make soup. Proper soup. On principle.)

Preparing for his trip to Amity Park had taken longer than Bruce had expected. Not least because Alfred had finally run out of patience, and sentenced him to bedrest for the next 12 hours after he returned from the Justice League meeting lest he unlock the tranquilizer guns and give his children free reign.

In the old days, when he’d just become Batman, Bruce had assumed Alfred would never be able to catch him anyway. He’d been cocky and confident in his skills, and often ignored Alfred’s demands.

And yet the man always seemed to know, raising a disapproving eyebrow at Bruce every time he’d slipped back into the room just before Alfred made his rounds.

And then Steph came into his life, and Bruce learned all too fast that Alfred had merely been waiting for appropriate safeguards. That was three kids along of course, but by now Bruce knew exactly why it had been Steph Alfred had waited for.

His relationship with Dick was too tumultuous. While Dick never feared Bruce and was perfectly happy to join Alfred in nagging and bossing him around, by the time Dick moved out Bruce had half expected to only see his son at Justice League meetings, if at all.

They were different men, and Dick had always had an anger in him that Bruce couldn’t fathom. He’d mastered it, his control very rarely slipping, but… Bruce had trained Dick himself, and he was one of a very short list of people that Bruce had no concrete backup plan for.

Nothing but hope to make him cocky with the first attack, and pray the second caught him off guard.

His relationship with Dick hadn’t improved until Tim came into his life… and helped him get his head out of his ass.

Jason? Jason had been an angel. A scruffy, beaten down angel with badly bruised wings when Bruce first picked him up, but he’d flourished in Wayne Manor. He’d taken to Robin with joy and enthusiasm, but had more devotion to his studies than any of Bruce’s kids before or since.

He’d even stay in to study for tests, and if things had been different… perhaps he’d have been the one to break Bruce’s obsession with his night life.

But Bruce had begun taking that good heart for granted, pushed when he should have listened, and sent Jason to his death.

Tim had a hard enough time keeping Bruce from killing himself, along with anyone who stood in the way of his mission. He was a solemn, serious little boy from the start, and though Dick took a more active role this time around and declared himself a big brother (possibly to spite Bruce)… well.

It had to be Steph.

Steph, who would vehemently deny being one of his from whoa to go, was just like all of his children; a feral little gremlin. But Steph had that one more element too, the one which young Dick had had in spades but pulled back from with Bruce years before.

Steph liked to have fun.

Tim treated Bruce as a mission just as much as Gotham was Bruce’s, and Dick had never forgiven him for Jason. Or the fights that went before. Neither could pick up a Nerf gun and hunt him through the city in pure play in those days.

Until Steph gave them the guns, of course. Now any and every one of his children would happily take a tranq gun from Alfred and merrily stalk him through the manor and city at large, and even to the Watchtower if he tempted fate (and Tim).

Bruce was powerless against them, although pride warred with frustration every single time one of them managed to drug him to sleep. He’d trained them well. Well enough that they’d put what was right over what he wanted, that none of them were even a little afraid of him.

He’d planted the seeds of his own destruction.

So when he’d seen Duke and Dick hanging “casually” around the halls while Alfred escorted him to bed, he’d resigned himself to twelve hours of rest.

He’d slept for sixteen. And woke feeling much better, to his own chagrin. His head felt clearer, the migraine almost gone, and the sudden swoops of nausea had finally begun to pass.

He still had odd moments, especially when he’d been on the computer planning the trip to Amity Park for too long, but he’d reluctantly agreed with Alfred. He needed to fully recover from his concussion; that meant rest. And taking days and weeks instead of hours.

Amity Park would still be there, after all. He couldn’t get back the years they’d been late. He’d had to concede another two weeks.

Zatanna had also demanded an explanation for why he was suddenly interested in the town - luckily the Anti-Ecto Acts provided a sufficient cover. They were even most of the reason he was going.

She could also see the gravity of the situation, and offered to put him in touch with some local specialists who claimed to have tech that would keep him from being possessed. Specialists named “Fenton”. Because of course they were.

She’d offered him a ward as well, but mostly in jest. She knew how Bruce felt about magic, and had told him science was on the table almost immediately.

Bruce knew full well it wasn’t a coincidence. Formerly regarded as quacks, the Fentons had been featured prominently in all of their Amity Park news sources. Usually as menaces and a hazard to society, which aligned with what the Mansons had told him.

Still, their actions had nothing to do with the character of their son. Danny Phantom had been Amity Park’s protector for six years, although he’d not had many serious ghosts to fight for the last three.

As Foley had claimed, the ghosts seemed to have settled into a status of local nuisance that was oddly aligned with the Fentons senior; loud, intrusive, and often an inconvenience to your day, but not the threats to life, limb, or infrastructure that had characterised the first years after the portal opened.

Amity Park’s general consensus seemed to be that Danny Phantom had tamed the ghosts, won over the Fentons, and quite efficiently saved the day. He hadn’t been sighted there much in the past year, but that was because he’d been in Gotham.

In school. Finally being able to study and look towards his future.

His main heroic endeavours in the last three years of his career had involved the same GIW, the Ghost Investigation Ward that Foley had told Tim about. They unfortunately had not followed the general trend of de-escalation… although they had been rather subdued in the last year.

It felt different to Bruce, though. Incidents were less frequent, but those occurrences where they did find a ghost had become markedly more violent. The decreased frequency seemed to have lulled the townsfolk into believing they were also less of a threat, but the problem with pushing your enemies into a corner was how much more dangerous a cornered animal became.

There was something worrying happening with the GIW, that would have borne looking into even if he wasn’t also looking to understand Danny better. Preparing everything he’d need for the official investigation was most of what had slowed him down.

Of course, he was going to Amity Park as Brucie Wayne, not as Batman. Vlad Masters’ friendship was going to help him there; the man had been delighted to invite him down for the weekend when Bruce had reached out.

A little faked enthusiasm for football and interest in Vlad’s favourite team and he was a seemingly completely open book. He was more than happy to give Brucie the grand tour of his little town, and even promised a personal escort from the airport.

Bruce was beginning to suspect that getting away from the man might be more of a challenge, although he was another potentially useful source of information on the Amity Park situation.

Not that Masters was a particularly high priority source. But Bruce could admit he may have been hasty to dismiss his views on Danny as being biased, and as mayor he should know something about the GIW operations in his city… and given how many contracts with the agency could be traced back to his companies in the early days of the agency’s formations, he would be a much more serious subject for investigation than a source.

The good news was, everything was now in place. He had Danny’s permission and would be flying down to Amity Park in a matter of hours, and had already bought out the entire top floor of a local hotel, so he should have plenty of privacy to operate from.

With any luck, being able to set things in motion to repeal the Anti-Ecto Acts could also be a first step towards patching things up with Jason… and with Danny. No matter what conclusions Bruce came to in Amity Park, the Justice League owed Danny Phantom a serious apology, and the Infinite Realms some swift action.

Their negligence could have sparked an inter-dimensional war, and nearly had cost a young man his future. Bruce was self aware enough to admit that the guilt of that knowledge was a major factor in why he hadn’t spoken to Danny face to face again.

Yet.

At least Danny had given him permission to visit and explore his haunt. That had to count for something.

He was going to apologize. Probably after giving Jason the proper apology his son so richly deserved. Perhaps Jason would even be willing to help him work out how to properly apologize to Danny too; Bruce wasn’t good at apologies at the very best of times, but Harley had made it explicitly clear that he was going to be getting in a lot of practice.

Now, ya can call Harley Quinn a lot of things (and people definitely have), but one thing she ain’t despite the goofball act? Stupid.

Somethin’ was up in Gotham, somethin’ one heck of a lot weirder than all the weird shit that had marked her time in the city.

Oh, she’d gone an’ had another word with Brucie after Waylon told her how Jason’d had to leave through the roof after his talk with Constantine.

(She’d hunt Johnny-boy down later too, probably just after he decided she wasn’t gonna come for ‘im and stopped hiding, but odds on? Brucie’s fault, and Connie was just his unfortunate messenger.)

The thing was, he’d decided to sicc Johnny on poor Jason before they’d had their little talk, so by the time she caught him again he was already all downcast and shamefaced. Already admitting he done fucked up.

And it just wasn’t satisfyin’ to kick him while he was down, an’ while he was already tryin’. He’d even decided on his own to leave both boys alone for now, to let things cool down before tryin’ again.

Now, Mama Quinzel didn’t raise no dummy, she could see a million ways ol’ Brucie’s plan to go and try an’ fix Amity Park for Danny was gonna go wrong. But she wasn’t an expert at this ghost business, so she didn’t pretend to be.

She did exactly what she’d told Brucie to do; consulted an actual expert.

She asked Sammy and Jazzy, Danny’s big sis who was just a real darlin’, in their group chat (which had been popping off since Sammy was a lil sweetheart and set it up for ‘em; Jazzy-boo was of doin’ all kinds of neurological shit but she’d read some psych textbooks in her day, and Harley loved watching a self taught student grow). An’ then she hunted down Jason and Danny, to ask ‘em directly.

Which had been when she’d got her first clue that somethin’ was up; when Jason looked at her like she was still wearin’ a certain other clown’s paint, all stiff and locked up and full of anger.

See, that’d happened before. When they first met, him fresh outta the grave, her fresh outta Hell. When he’d asked if she and Joker were really through, an’ she’d told him hell yeah.

When he’d asked if she’d get in his way of killing the asshole.

That anger, all tight an’ tense an’ burstin’ had been wrapped around his throat then, chokin’ him on it. It was cooler now, more human, more like somethin’ the sweet lil sunshine child who could melt her heart with his tears could feel.

It still wasn’t, ya’know, in the vague vicinity of healthy, but she’d seen Jason Todd about to lose his shit before. An’ his hands shook when he touched her, when he asked what the hell she’d done to her neck.

Harley’d taken a good long look in several bathroom mirrors since. There was nothin’ she could see there, but Harley Quinn had been a short term guest in more than one Hell. There was plenty of shit she was all too happy not ta see.

Then there was ol’ Harvey. She’d run him down faster’n the bats, because she wasn’t also chasin’ Riddler, Great White Shark, at least three new plots from ol’ Pengy, or a suspiciously quiet and freshly escaped Scarecrow.

Two-Face had been all quiet an’ polite since his heist on the young Mr Todd’s party went tits up, so he’d flown under their radar.

Not hers.

Harley always made time for her old friends.

And Harvey had been weird too. Twitchy, on edge, jumpin’ at shadows. That happened if he thought the ol’ Bat was after ‘im, but he’d had no reason to think that. An’ for all he’d flipped his little coin and played up the bit, Harley knew when her friends were off.

Something had put Harvey on edge. Stuffed a bee up his ass and made him all snappy.

He’d even tried to pull a gun! On her! His sweet, darlin’, perfectly loveable and innocent Harleen!

So, ya’know, when she’d touched ground again an’ he’d run outta bullets, she’d knocked it outta his hands before he could reload and reminded him there were more than just Bats to fear. There was also her bat.

An’ by the time they were both all tired out and slumped against each other to order smoothies, he’d admitted he didn’t know why he’d decided to go fer young Jason. To attack their buddy Brucie’s boy.

Now, Harley wasn’t sure Harvey knew silly ol’ Brucie was the Big Bad Bat. She suspected he did, somewhere, in the part of him he hid from all the unpleasantness.

If he knew, he was repressin’ it real deep.

But he’d seen word of the gala, an’ something inside him went dark, and he’d flipped a coin. Got all sorts of plastic explosive of all things ready to really give Gotham a show they wouldn’t forget.

An’ then when it was time to roll out, nunna his cars’d start. An’ he’d flipped the coin again. And stayed home.

She snagged the detonators on his explosives on the way out, on principle. There were some rules after all, and while the Bats could certainly handle anythin’ ol’ Harvey could build, he shouldn’a shot at her.

Harley Quinn was officially out of the rogue game, but that had nothin’ ta do with shit disturbing. She was beginning to wonder though.

Somethin’ was weird in Gotham, a kinda energy in the streets that wasn’t the same black stubbornness she’d known and loved. Somethin’ that felt a little nastier. A little closer to biting.

Now, Harley Quinn was a lotta things. She also wasn’t a lotta the things everyone else thought she was.

She was no quitter. She was no fool. She was no coward to turn tail from some nasty vibes. She might still be a teensy weensy bit mentally disturbed, as you say, but she had her shit together.

An’ she knew when somethin’ else was tryin’ ta play with her head.

Much as she loved Gotham like a second home, she was beginnin’ ta wonder if she shouldn’t head back to Pammy an’ let their mystery of who was givin’ Coney Island a hard time sit with the Bats.

——————

The song Tucker’s playing for Tim and Nygma is here:

Tag List - @welcometosasakiworld @someonebored0100 @stealingyourbones @starkcravingmad @frostedthroughghost @akikkobara @rainbowbunny0159 @littlefeather345 @violet-catsarelife @serasvictoria02 @wolfjackle @blacksea21090 @secretdestinywerewolf @anime-hipster-the-amazing @undead-essence e @skitscratched @blackroserelina a @snoodly-boop @mayoota-blog @xysidhe @little-apricot-the-writer @chaoticmistake @the-legal-shipper @bun-fish @aroranorth-west @demon-cat-goes-woof @perfectwastelandcreation @onyxlightdragon @larks-and-katydids @peachesandcreamfemboy @jesus-camp-the-sequel @may-rbi @mothman-the-mothman87 @viyatrix @stargirl1331 @idfk-man10 @thedepressedrobin n @skulld3mort-1fan @rootsmudge @ravenshadow17 7 @cankoking @phantom-dc @mentalcarebear @magic-pincushion @redamancyardor @lyra689 @itsparadoxlacuna @alcorbearson n @asphyxia778 @why-must-i-be-like-this s @tkiesai @greenpyrowolf @frivolous-pastel @honeysuckletook @adorkable1291

IMPORTANT NOTE! Since about half the tag list no longer links to a blog, I will probably be retiring it for chapter 20, so either comment and let me know you still wanna be on it, or proceed on over to AO3 for alerts!

Part two:

#dfdali #danny fenton dead and loving it #dead on main ship #dpxdc #dc x dp #dp x dc #dcxdp #chapter 19 part 1 #the finished core

83 notes · View notes

zoeykallus · 1 year

Note

Hey there!

first of all i wanted to just gush over how incredible your writing is and that i can’t stop re-reading all of your works! they’re just so good!

second i wanted to say how sorry i am to hear about your dog :(( i have a dog of my own and the thought of anything happening to him moves me to tears, so i truly share in your pain 💜

and lastly, i was wondering you’d do the Only One Bed ™️ trope with hunter and a fem!reader? NSFW is accepted and highly encouraged ;) but if you’re not feeling up to it, please put your mental health over this request!! much love 💜

Aloha!

Thank you so much! Very happy to read this. And thank you for your kind words regarding my dog 💚💚💚

Only One Bed trope, with Hunter.... NSFW, sure thing 😁

I don't know what I did here, but I got carried away. Couldn't decide the fluff and/or smut level, so I kinda mixed it up, and I'm not sure what this is, but it's a lot more than I had planned in the first place...

Hunter x Fem!Reader - One-Shot - The Tension Between Us

Warnings: Sexual Content/Suggestive/No Established Relationship (yet)/Smut/18+

_______________

As Hunter and you are stranded in the small scout shuttle for technical reasons, you find yourselves on a very small abandoned outpost. Apparently, the tiny outpost has been abandoned for ages and was only designed for a single person, because there is only one bed. By necessity, you'll have to spend the night here until you're picked up, so you'll have to come to some sort of agreement on the sleeping situation.

________________

Oral Receiving/Dry Humping/PiV Sex/Fingering

"Don't look at me like that," you grumble, rolling your eyes. Frowning, Hunter asks, "How am I looking at you?" "Like it's any of my fault we got stranded here. The crash was a technical error, not mine." Hunter shakes his head and says patiently, "I'm not upset with you, or your flying skills, I'm upset with the situation." "It wasn't my flying skills though" you insist, already raising your finger in the air to back up the statement. Realizing you've acquired Tech's quirk, you quickly lower your hand again. You're definitely spending too much time with Clone Force 99, you realize. Hunter smiles barely noticeably, raises his hands placatingly, and says, "Yes, I know it was a technical issue. Still, we're stuck here now, and we've both been out for a while, the shuttle is junk and there's only one bed." You sigh and look at the bed, which is neither particularly large, nor particularly small, but in any case a bit too narrow for two adults who don't necessarily want to have physical contact. Hunter has a silly idea, he knows it's not particularly clever, but hears himself say it before he can stop the words from leaving his mouth. "We can both sleep in the bed, can't we? There's no fallback, and we're both adults, we've known each other for a while now. I don't think either of us needs to sleep on the floor." The surprised look you give him makes his insides tighten for a moment. But when you finally shrug your shoulders, nod and say, "Sounds reasonable," he relaxes again. However, seconds later, he's plagued by completely different worrisome thoughts. Yes, you've known each other for quite a while, almost a year, and for a few months now he's started fantasizing about you. At first, he was just attracted without really understanding what those feelings were. Hunter has had a few flings, but never a deeper relationship, that was not allowed anyway. Until now, he didn't have to deal with that either, but then you showed up. In the beginning he was only attracted to you, he feels comfortable around you, he trusts you, at work as well as personally. Then more and more factors came into play. At some point Hunter couldn't get enough of your scent, you started showing up in his wet dreams and at some point he started fantasizing about you too when he needed relief.

By now it's clear to him that he has a thing for you, both physically and emotionally, but Hunter has no idea how to deal with it. What's bothering him right now is the worry that he might dream about you again while you're in bed together. Tech had already pointed out to him that he sometimes talked in his sleep. That could be a problem. As you begin to take off your armor, he stares at you as if thunderstruck.

"What is it?" you ask, frowning and pausing in mid-motion. "You're getting undressed?" "Yes. I can't sleep in the full outfit. Can you?" Hunter shrugs uncertainly. "Sometimes." "But it's not necessary now. Basically we're not on duty, we're stranded but safe. So I'll put my gear down" As he still stares at you, you say teasingly, "Don't worry, I'll leave the blacks on, I'm not going to lay naked in bed with you". You can see him gulp, but then he smiles nervously and starts taking off his gear as well. "Okay, sounds reasonable" he says, trying hard not to look, not to admire the way the tight blacks hug your body.

But all he can think about is that you probably don't have anything on under the blacks, like most soldiers. He can't see any bra or panties showing underneath, anyway. He blinks several times, takes a deep breath, and forces his thoughts elsewhere. Hunter may be into you, but he has too much respect for you as a person and as a friend to gawk at you the way he would like to. When you finally lay down next to each other, barely a hand's width fits between you, so close that you can feel each other's body heat, and you can feel how tense he is next to you. You turn your head to look at him. Hunter stares at the ceiling, his arms crossed over his chest as if he needs to hold himself. You frown and think for a while, watching him. You know that a certain tension has arisen between you, already a long time ago, something that cannot be avoided when you find the person you work so closely with attractive. Not only that, but you are sure he feels the same way you do, somehow you sense it, and sometimes you see it in the way he looks at you. He is outrageously handsome, in combination with his deep, slightly smoky voice, his skill as a soldier and the decent heart that beats under his breastplate, he is practically irresistible to you. But you know how regulations are, that clones aren't supposed to be in serious relationships, and you don't want just a fling with no real connection. The thought that he might be with other women if you don't work together for a while has kept you up many a night. But as far as you know, Hunter's last fling was about six months ago. It was about then that you noticed the way he was looking at you, that's when this weird tension started to develop between you. "You seem tense," you say quietly. Hunter swallows, he sighs softly, then says, "An unusual situation."

You talk for quite a while, about all sorts of things, until you feel that you both relax and eventually fall asleep. At some point during the night, however, you wake up, you feel a weight on your upper body and between your legs. Almost as if on cue, you feel warm between your thighs, even before you are fully awake. You blink, trying to get your eyes used to the darkness in the room.

Finally, you realize, one of Hunter's legs is between yours, slightly bent, his thigh right on your now heated center, one of his arms across your torso, almost like a hug. However, Hunter is asleep, probably doesn't even know what he's doing. His leg moves a little, the friction on your pubic creating a pulse that tingles in your pussy, and you clearly feel wetness gathering in the heated triangle between your thighs. Suddenly he seems to stop, he takes a deep breath, opens his eyes. His whole body tenses, trying to orient himself in the darkness. You know Hunter smelled your arousal, that's what woke him up. He seems confused at first about the situation you two are in. "Sorry," he mumbles as he realizes how close he came to you in his sleep and wants to pull away. Your hands claw into the top of his blacks, holding him in place, whereupon he reaches with one hand for the small lamp that stands beside the bed and turns it on. It's a fairly dim light, but strong enough for him to see your face. Your fingers are still clawing into the fabric on his chest. Hunter looks at you questioningly. You say, almost in a whisper, "Don't go away." He blinks, pauses. A barely noticeable smirk twitches at the corner of his mouth, and you can see his pupils grow bigger almost instantly. He moves his thigh a little between yours, tensing his muscles, rubbing over your pussy. "You want me to stay right here?" He takes another deep breath, knowing full well you'll say yes. You nod and say, still almost whispering, "Yes."

His hand that was previously on the lamp moves to your hip and grips, while his thigh continues to apply friction and pressure to your center. By now the moisture of your arousal has seeped through the fabric and the smell is so intense for Hunter that his cock pressed against your thigh is hard as diamond. His senses and hormones are already dancing tango, everything in him is in passionate flames. He knows exactly, he will enjoy this a lot. But most of all, he wants you to melt into arousal, he wants you to have so much fun that you want to come to him again and again, that when you look at him, you can think of nothing else but his closeness. As he kisses you he is gentle yet hungry, his tongue is so quick in your mouth and has the upper hand that you feel a deliciously sweet helplessness. You trust Hunter, completely, you know you are safe with him. If it's up to you, he can do absolutely anything he wants to you. His lips part from yours, his thigh still pressed to your pubic, his lips close to yours he says in his smoky voice, "My senses are full of your scent, but I think it's time for more, every one of my senses wants to explore you."

Swimming in arousal, you say almost a little breathlessly, "Yes, please." Hunter smiles in satisfaction. He kneels over you, his knees to the left and right of your hips and his hands reach for the hem of the top of your blacks, pulling it up, slowly and deliberately. You watch him lick his lips as your breasts emerge from under the fabric. Then you bring your arms up, so he can pull the top over your head. But he doesn't pull it off you, he keeps your arms and the top of your head trapped in it. He ties the fabric together, so it stays in place. You can't see anything, only your mouth peeks out from under the fabric and your arms are fixed in it. Theoretically you can free yourself, Hunter doesn't want to restrain you, certainly not against your will, he's more interested in creating an erotic illusion. A hoarse moan comes over your lips as his close around one of your nipples and teasingly suck on it. His tongue plays with it, his fingers gently knead the soft flesh. With a lot of skill and passion, he takes care of your boobs with his hands and mouth, making you squirm and let out sweet little sighs. Then, quite unexpectedly, his hand wanders down on you, while his mouth is still playing with one of your nipples, and slips right under the fabric of your black's pants.

At first, you make a small, startled sound, and close your thighs around his hand. Hunter pauses, his mouth moves from your chest to your chin, kissing it gently, and he whispers, "It's just me. I'm not going to hurt you, on the contrary. You trust me, don't you?" In response, you slowly open your thighs again and say in a whisper, "I trust you." "Good girl," he coos to you, kissing his way down your neck as his fingertips wander, carefully, gently, through your damp folds. "A good girl indeed, so wet for me". His words tingle under your skin, in your nerve endings. You could listen to his voice day and night, especially when he speaks to you as he does now. Hunter's fingertips find your clit and caress it playfully while his tongue dances circles around your nipple. Your hips automatically buck up, towards him, craving more. One of his fingers finds your opening and tickles it gently, teasingly. "You want to feel me there, don't you?" A hoarse, "Yes," passes your lips. Hunter withdraws his hand from you again, moving further down and pulling off the pants of your blacks, leaving you lying naked in front of him with your head and arms still trapped in your top. You feel his strong hands on your thighs and how he opens them, how his shoulders push in between. Shortly after, you feel his hot breath on your damp folds. His lips softly graze the insides of your thighs, slowly making their way to the center of your heat. You know what's coming, you're in aroused anticipation, yet the feeling as his tongue roams through your wet folds is almost overwhelming. You hear Hunter growl softly, like a predator descending on his prey, as his tongue and lips explore your pussy. Finally, he finds your clit and applies gentle, circular pressure with his tongue, eliciting sighs and moans from you.

Hunter's tongue gets faster and faster, everything inside you tingles, every muscle tensed in arousal, your pussy twitches impatiently and greedily. Then suddenly he lets go of your clit and drills his tongue deep into your opening with a growl, deep from his chest. Like a starving man he licks you out, drills his tongue into you again and again, fucking you with it while his hands have a firm grip on your thighs and your whole abdomen trembles with arousal.

Again and again you moan his name, it is divine, consistently on the threshold between maximum intensity and climax without tipping over, a wonderful, sweet agony. He keeps you on this threshold for quite a while, greedily absorbing your juices. Finally, you can't take it anymore. "Hunter, fuck me!" His tongue slips out of your pussy, skims over it once more, circles your clit teasingly before he rises and releases your thighs. You hear soft rustling of clothes and squirm in your top that also serves as your bondage. Your arms are still trapped in it above your head, but your eyes now free to admire him. He is a positively stunning sight, steeled, beautiful. Tanned, tattooed skin stretches over hard muscles. Then your gaze drifts downward. His cock stands erect, hard, thick, gently curved, rounding out the perfect picture you have before you. You're so hungry to feel him inside you, you can feel your juices pooling in your pussy. He shows you a smirk as your eyes meet, he knows exactly what you're feeling, can sense it with practically every one of his senses and he loves it. He leans over you, propped up on his arms, his hips dipping between your thighs, his cock gently nudging your wet hole. "Are you ready for me, girl?" You nod eagerly, "Yes, absolutely ready." Hunter never dreamed this moment would come, but now it has, and he's enjoying every second to the fullest, your scent, every little sigh from you, every movement, just everything he soaks up like a sponge. He applies pressure, his cock parts your wet folds, slowly penetrates you inch by inch. He keeps an eye on your face, careful that you feel perfect. Every little excited twitch in your face is a feast for him, making his chest swell with pride and his heart beat up to his throat. He knows that yours has been pounding behind your ribs since the first moment he touched you, and he loves that beat.

The stretching is glorious, as he finally sinks all the way into you, as he is inside you, his hips nestled against your thighs, his body hovering over yours, it feels like you two are made for each other, perfectly adapted to each other. Feeling his hips between your thighs, him deep inside you, feels so right. You're so aroused and excited, your pussy twitching around his cock even before he moves inside you, eliciting a surprised moan. Hunter starts to move, slowly pulling his hips back and thrusting again.

As he speeds up, the bed beneath you begins to squeak in time with your movements, but neither of you mind. Soon the squeaking is mixed with the sound of bare skin meeting bare skin and the wet sound of his cock drilling deep into your pussy again and again. The friction of his pubic bone is right on your clit, the perfect combination. Your legs wrap around him to pull Hunter closer to you. Your hands wander hungrily over his strong back, his shoulders, and down his neck. He holds your gaze captive with his, penetrating deep into it as he moves inside you. The intensity increases steadily, exponentially. You can't look away, your faces so close together, your breath mixing, your panting and his huffing. However, as you near climax, your pussy tightening around his cock, his eyes roll back, he squeezes his eyes shut, you see his jaw muscles working and feel his thrusts become erratic, his thighs trembling with tension. Sweat gathers on his forehead "F-fuck... where? Where do you want me to-" You don't answer his question verbally, clenching your legs tighter around him, pushing his body tighter against yours as a result. Hunter tears open his eyes, a half-stuttered moan coming out of his mouth as your entire abdomen tightens, the pulse of your orgasm taking him with it. Shortly after, you feel him cum inside you, his seed filling your cleft. Two, three more lewd sounding wet thrusts into your filled pussy, and he stops, breathing heavily.

His gaze finds yours again, and you grin at him in satisfaction. He returns the gesture, then leans his sweaty forehead against yours and whispers, as if he doesn't want to ruin the moment, "I certainly didn't expect that to happen today". "Neither did I," you admit, "But I'm glad it happened." He laughs softly, gently. "Me too" He's still inside you, but you suddenly feel uncertainty rising inside you. "Is it going to happen again?" He chuckles. "Give me about 20 minutes" You say a little more seriously, "That's not what I meant". He lifts his head to look at you, his cock slowly softening inside you, but he doesn't leave your body yet. "You don't want to do it again?" "Yes, I do, but... Not just today." He smirks and says, "I like that thought".

You take a breath and say more boldly than you feel, "I want it to be more than a thought" Hunter looks at you thoughtfully, finally rolling off of you and getting wet wipes out of his backpack that is next to the bed. He helps you clean up, still seeming to be thinking as you wait tensely for a response. Finally, he says, lost in thought, "I never used to worry about that, I never had to worry about breaking that kind of rules." You feel your heart grow heavy in your chest. You watch Hunter dispose of the used wipes, then he lies back down with you, both of you still naked, and covers you both with the wool blanket from the emergency kit you had managed to salvage from the shuttle earlier. To your relief, he doesn't pull back thoughtfully, as you expected. He slides an arm under your shoulders and pulls you close to him. Hunter kisses your forehead, tasting the salt on your skin, and says, "I don't know what you'll face if we get caught, but I, for one, am willing to take the risk of being decommissioned."

Your fingertips brush over his chest, over the tattoo. "Are you sure?" you ask softly. Without hesitation, Hunter replies, "Absolutely sure." You snuggle closer into his embrace, then with a smirk you say, "How long will it take you to get ready for our next round?" He laughs softly, you feel the vibration in his chest before he says, "Just a few minutes, my beautiful."

Ko-Fi (If you feel like giving me some coffee)

@rintheemolion

@andyoufollowyourheart @clone-whore-99

@brynhildrmimi @kaliel2310

@misogirl828 @tech-deck

@meshla-madalene

@chxpsi

@thebahdbitch

@nahoney22 @ladykatakuri

@darkangel4121

@ttzamara

@arctrooper69

@padawancat97

@agenteliix

@allsystemsblue

@palliateclaw

@either-madness-or-brilliance

@ortizshinkaroff

@andy-solo1

@hunterssecretrecipe

@heyitsaloy

@greaser-wolf

@extrahotpixels

@hated-by-me

@hunterxcrosshair

@malicemercy

@bebopsworld

@echos-girlfriend

@cpnt616

@dangraccoon

@jediknightjana

@pb-jellybeans

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lemotmo · 23 days

Note

Hulu comment. Let's all spiral with glee 😀

Q. We see you fan girling, Hulu! We see you!!

A. Haha, okay I received a ton of asks about this but I'm only going to post the one because you all get the gist of what the questions were like. Technically the Hulu account moderators, much like the 911 moderators, are employees of Disney, but usually moderators are given pretty free reign to post, comment, and 'like' as they please. As long as they're not being problematic or inappropriate. So I would caution that the comment doesn't necessarily mean anything. I will however say that the fact they felt comfortable enough to publicly comment on a video that is in direct contrast to the current canon probably doesn't bode well for said current canon. Because at minimum it's confirmation that there are no regulations in place for them to push the current canon. Which is probably not a good sign as far as anything long term goes. They would need to push it fairly hard to try and move the needle from an audience perspective so they would absolutely discourage Buddie encouragement. And that's clearly not a directive anyone has been given, so far anyway. We will probably get a clearer picture in the coming week or so. Embargos have to be close to being lifted, if they haven't already, which means we'll start to see more and more engagement from the media that covers the show.

I want to take a moment in this post to address several asks I received raging about how Buddie fans were the reason the show didn't release a full trailer. You all continue to prove you haven't been here longer than 80 something days. This is how the show always does things. They always start with a teaser. Last season was a hand on a ship rail, I believe. The season before that was the blimp. This has always been the way they do things. I know show history is irrelevant to you all but you should at least maybe Google something before jumping into blogs and raging.

Thank you so much Nonny!

Yep, I agree. Last season the show was heavily promoting Buddie. And it seems they have subtly began doing that again, while completely ignoring the canon relationship. But we do have to see if they will keep it up. I expect they will though.

This Hulu intern might just be a Buddie fan, but in the end they still commented using the Hulu account. They would have known it would be noticed and shared, but they still didn't delete it, which means that it was posted deliberately. They didn't just forgot to sign out of their professional account.

The comment talked about Buck deserving to be happy. Which basically implies that he isn't there yet right now. He still hasn't found his true happiness.

I realise that this is just a small thing and it might not mean anything, but to me it's definitely a subtle nod to signal that something has shifted.

And yeah, the promo always starts with a small teaser that has none of the characters. It has always been like this.

I do think that last year it was a hand on the round window of a ship, instead of on the railing. Do correct me if I'm wrong though. 😋

This has me excited though! I wonder what else they have in store for us this month. I'm looking forward to it! 😁

IMPORTANT! Please don't repost this ask and/or a link that leads straight to my Tumblr account on Twitter or any other social media. Thank you!

Heads up! For anyone who is giving me the shifty eyes for reposting Ali's updates instead of reblogging. Read this.

Remember, no hate in comments, reblogs or inboxes. Let's keep it civil and respectful. Thank you.

If you are interested in more of Ali’s posts, you can find all of her posts so far under the tag: anonymous blog I love.

#anonymous blog I love #911 promo speculation #911 teaser speculation #911 abc #buddie speculation #nonnies galore

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shepherds-of-haven · 9 months

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Hiiii Lena listen I know I just got spoiled with the patreon QnA (and also I couldn’t find it asked or recall it being asked so if it has been, I’m an absolute FOOL and ignore this) but I was wondering if any ROs (who aren’t already fluent) would be interested in learning Elvish/Kettish/Uth from MC with Elf/Ket/Hunter background🤗 or if just by being around them so much, who might have picked up a little (like words/phrases MC frequently uses when speaking to other native speakers)?

Hi kingdom, I forget if this has been asked too lol!! And here's how it shakes out:

Blade: he would definitely enjoy in learning from MC themselves with regular lesson sessions or would just naturally pick it up from being around them!

Trouble: he would love to learn (though he would be quite bad at it, he has an atrocious accent and is not quite gifted with languages) and would probably take formal lessons on the side to surprise MC as a gift later on in the relationship (but again, it would sound bad. but it's the thought that counts!)

Tallys: moot point, she speaks all languages flawlessly

Shery: she would be quite dedicated about learning early and would either ask MC to teach her rigorously or take formal lessons from a tutor herself in order to learn more and respect MC's heritage and culture!

Riel: he would definitely be interested in learning and would likely read several books on the side and practice in person with MC. he's naturally gifted with languages and can pick them up very quickly, though he'd likely have a slight accent!

Chase: he'd love to learn from MC (partly so he and MC could have their own language to smack-talk people in front of them or pass secrets to each other, etc.) and would also naturally pick it up from listening to MC long enough! He might secretly take lessons from a tutor for the sheer amusement of surprising MC with speaking totally fluent [whatever] one day out of the blue lol. And then being like "oh, you didn't know that I spoke it?? I could have sworn that I mentioned it... 🤭👀"

Red: he'd love to learn with MC's help and would pick up the grammar of it all quite easily, but his accent would only be middling to good! He's quick on the uptake when it comes to picking things up from listening to MC and doing lessons with them, though he might secretly take lessons from a tutor to surprise them as well!

Ayla: she'd definitely be really interested in learning, though she lacks the patience for formal lessons and it would have to be a really slow osmosis of just absorbing stuff from MC over time! Her first language is technically Gangara so this is essentially how she picked up Common!

Briony: however much Elvish blood she has in her means she can pick up languages decently well (listening) but is not great at speaking and has a pretty mangled accent, but she'd love learning and would hoover it all up!

Lavinet: she'd love to learn, if only so no one can ever badmouth her around her without knowing! And her education required her to be fluent in several languages, so she's quite good at learning them at this point!

Hope this answers your question, and happy new year! 😁

#Shepherds of Haven #romance options #language #languages

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kumezyzo · 10 months

Note

Omggg imagining famoussinger!reader or famousactor!reader and sapnap.. imagine him defending them on his stream and them going to red carpets together :(((

ive been a little preoccupied writing a tasm fic rn so this has been kinda pushed on the back burner. but i did already technically write singer!reader. so enjoy actor!reader

anyway, enjoy! or dont :) m.list

bf!sapnap hates when he gets chats where people are bashing your acting. he hates it even more when they're comments on his vods with you that you can see.

he makes sure no ones posts are actually up long enough for you to see them

bf!sapnap always tries to promote your stuff nonchalantly. but it's never actually nonchalant.

"oooh, what's this ad about?" he asked, sharing his screen. his youtube recommendations were just clips from the shows or movies that you've been in.

then he clicked on the ad at the top of the screen that was for a movie you were staring in. everyone in his chat started spamming in his chat about how he was putting the sap in sapnap.

bf!sapnap who likes going to your film locations with you and cheers you on on the sidelines. when you get off set, he smiles so widely at you and tells you how well you did.

bf!sapnap who first watches a movie with an actor that doesnt like you and can't help but shit on them.

"you would've been so much better for this role," he huffed, crossing his arms. you looked at him and couldn't help but smile at his glare. you tried suppressing your smile and turned back to watching the movie.

"fuck you," he murmured to himself. you looked up at him as he aggressively closed out of twitter.

"what was that?" you asked, concerned.

"that bitch is trending right now."

bf!sapnap who likes going to your movie premieres with you. he gets to walk the red carpet with you (because hes technically famous) and he loves seeing twitter posts the next day of you two.

the flashing lights can be too much at times, but he likes hilding you close and people knowing youre with him. he likes when people stop to interview you about the movie and just to do promo. He stands off to the side, just out of view and watches you in your element, he finds it so admirable.

bf!sapnap who even gets asked questions when walking with you.

"so, sapnap, were you on set for this movie at all? what was it like seeing yn in their natural element?" the interviewer asked with a large smile.

"i was sometimes," he nodded. "it was cool. i think im used to seeing them get in the zone but seeing it in person was something else."

"so, what is it like dating them?"

he looked at the interviewer strangely as he tried to figure out how to answer that. "unlike anyone else. they have such an interesting life and im just glad to be here for it."

i dont like the endinggggg 😁😁😁 but its whatever. -nony

#sapnap #anon #sapnap x reader #asks #sapnap x you #dteam #sapnap x y/n #sapnap fluff #sapnap x reader fluff #sapnap x yn fluff #fluff #bf!sapnap #singer!reader

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jessicas-pi · 9 months

Note

multiple boom emojis = i can send mulitple asks, right? 😁

📕

i have literally never said no to another ask so. yknow. yeah absolutely.

Okay for this one i've got this AU that's been bouncing around in my head since i went through a brief yet intense korkie obsession a few days ago.

I call this the Korkie And Ahsoka's List Of Lies AU.

basically: after Satine's death, Korkie steps up to lead a faction of New Mandalorians who basically decide WE'RE GONNA HAVE PEACE, DANGIT!! It seemed like a great idea... except... Korkie is seventeen and has no idea how to run a nonlethal-but-not-exactly-pacifistic-either revolution.

And then he thinks... hey... wasn't Ahsoka just kicked out of the Jedi order? Maybe she'd want a job as his advisor...

So some of his friends go to coruscant and find Ahsoka and basically recruit her. She goes to Mandalore and cheerfully reunites with her old friend, and they get down to business to defeat the death watch.

Ahsoka, who doesn't have lightsabers, starts training with a pair of beskar blades. it's a difficult transition because beskar weighs a lot but lightsaber blades weigh nothing. Eventually she figures it out and she gets really good at it and several Mandalorians get crushes on her because She's So Cool!!!!

Korkie also finds her some armor. she looks even more fabulous now. more mandalorians get crushes on her.

The New New Mandalorians move to take back Mandalore. Ahsoka duels Maul with her beskar swords and wins and even more mandalorians get crushes on her. she's officially a celebrity heartthrob at this point.

She plans to leave afterwards, but Korkie asks her if... maybe... she could stay?

Ahsoka agrees.

Now, here's the thing.

Korkie is technically a clan leader now. Ahsoka owns the darksaber by right of combat. they decide it would work best if they co-ran Mandalore.

They make this announcement standing side-by-side, and the picture of it makes the news.

On Coruscant, Anakin happens to glance at the cover of some Mando'a gossip magazine and sees the photo.

Anakin cannot read Mando'a.

Anakin does not know what the headline says.

Anakin assumes they got married.

Now, Anakin has been having bad dreams lately. He's very worried about Padme, and their unborn children. But he's also too distracted by thinking ahsoka??? snips??? My Padawan??? got married??? do i send her a card??? do i call to tell her congratulations??? to pay attention to palpatine's tale of Plagueis the Wise. He completely spaces it out.

Anyway, padme ends up giving birth just fine, and Anakin is so relieved but also really worried about telling Obi-Wan (who ALREADY KNOWS) and so anakin decides he's just. he's gonna pay a visit to ahsoka on mandalore.

so he goes and meets Ahsoka and congratulates her on her marriage... in front of a bunch of people.

suddenly rumors are FLYING that the co-mand'alors got married in secret somehow. Korkie and Ahsoka quickly consult each other on what to do and they prepare a whole speech announcement about the misunderstanding when suddenly an aide runs up and tells them that apparently, mandalorians love a love story, because they're seeing a huge spike in popularity! even with other factions of Mandalorians!

Korkie and Ahsoka share a look.

"Are we thinking the same thing?"

"We're thinking the same thing."

Korkie and Ahsoka stay up all night rewriting their announcement and practicing their "sappy happy in love" faces (and getting the giggles because of it.) They get korkie's friends--Lagos, Soinee, and Amis--to help them out. none of his friends are actually helpful and they all give conflicting advice.

The announcement goes well (barely. ahsoka almost got the giggles again.) and the mandalorian people are suitably convinced of the love story.

Given Ahsoka's popularity, the Mandalorians become interested in her family as well, and a few notice a slight resemblance between Korkie and Obi-Wan, but there's no big deal until someone unearths that Obi-Wan and the Duchess were in love once.

The rumor mill explodes.

Mandalorians don't really have a problem with the idea that obi-wan's grandpadawan may have married his secret son; given that korkie and ahsoka are separated by two "adoptions" (padawanships) and weren't raised as family or anything. In fact, they find the connection between the two of them to be kind of romantic. like, star crossed lovers were kept apart yet the next generations found a way back together... anyway, it's yet another popularity boost.

but here's the thing.

Korkie isn't a Kenobi.

Korkie knows he's not a Kenobi.

Korkie could even prove he's not a Kenobi.

But... why ruin the dramatic romantic tale that the people of Mandalore have invented?

So Korkie Is A Kenobi gets added to the list of Things We're Pretending Are True (aka the List Of Lies in the title), alongside Korkie And Ahsoka Are Married and Korkie And Ahsoka Are Responsible Adults.

Which they aren't. at all.

In fact, they're a pair of almost-eighteen-year-olds (is that pretty young to be getting married? yeah, definitely, but wookiepedia says that mandalorians married as young as 16 so we're gonna assume it's not considered too young on Mandalore) who have realized that for the first time in their lives, they don't have adults telling them what to do, and while they do have to responsibly rule mandalore, that doesn't mean they can't be wildly immature in their free time.

They have water gun fights inside the palace. They text each other dumb dad jokes during long, boring meetings. They jump on the beds. They have really unhealthy sugar-filled cereal for breakfast. They dress up in cheesy superhero costumes and sneak out at night to do heroic vigilante work. Soinee helps them set up a secret Space Tumblr account called korkie-kenobi-truther and they post korkie kenobi memes.

All is well...

Except for the fact that Palpatine is still alive and nobody knows he's the Sith lord.

That is gonna be an issue.

...to be continued, because this got really really long oh my goodness i totally got carried away i'm sorry about that-

#thank you for the ask!!#star wars au #ahsoka tano #korkie kryze

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mrs-luigi-vargas · 7 months

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Lowish-effort Aro Mario and Aro Bowser icons for @arospecfanworksweek! They're very simple but I like making them I should do it more often :D

Anyway there's whole lot of rambling about the headcanons under the cut if you're curious, haha. I guess it makes this entry technically match Day 1's prompt but honestly I wasn't intentionally trying to follow said prompts at all, lmao

~~~

OK, so I've headcanoned Mario as aro for a while, now. Part of it is me projecting, of course. But also I think it would be interesting if he was, mainly because of how it would affect his dynamic with Peach. Because, you know, the hero and the princess; the knight and the damsel; he was a boy, she was a girl - at least a lot of the Toads seem to think that it couldn’t be any more obvious. But Mario wouldn’t think it was obvious. And any suggestions otherwise would just be mostly awkward and off-putting for reasons that are difficult to get across to the romance-minded. He and Peach were already close, as friends. That's all they needed to be, right?

But anyway what I'm trying to say is a major appeal of this headcanon for me is the like…inherent defiantness of it. Standing in step with so many normally romance-coded things and doing them platonically despite what everyone wants or expects. And then also me projecting, like I said before 😊. Wrote a couple of fics about it even, if you wanna read them~ 😁

As for aro!Bowser, though, it's only something I've vaguely been thinking about recently. 'Cause I read a whole bunch of Bowuigi fic last year, and in almost all of those they gotta wave away/retcon/reconcile Bowser's attraction to/kidnapping of Peach, right? So one way I've seen of doing that is something to the effect of Bowser kidnapping Peach because Junior needs a mom. Which is such an interesting rationale to give him, haha. But to be fair its usually not by itself; there's usually a sense of 'well, Peach is very kind and beautiful, so marriage is definitely the way to go on this (or so I thought'. But sometimes it isn't and that's very funny to me. The things shippers do to pull their stories off are something to behold sometimes 🤭

But still! It got me thinking. What if Bowser's crush on Peach was completely manufactured? Unknowingly, of course; in the sense that Peach is very kind and beautiful and powerful and the monarch of a nearby kingdom in his age range so that's how these thinks are supposed to go, yeah? He wasn’t totally sure; becoming King didn’t really leave any room to know otherwise, with how much work there was to be done every day. At least Kamek had seemed to think so, though, talking about alliances and heirs and a bunch of other things Bowser hadn't been really listening to. Though Kamek was hardly wrong about anything important, would it kill him to be a lot less boring about it?

But even still, Bowser's proud and headstrong and stubborn, so when the marriage-alliance with Peach doesn’t work out then he decides to make it work out. And then the kidnappings start. And then continue. Because "it'll totally work this time, this plan is perfect!".

Like trying to jam a square peg into a round box over and over with no clue that there's anything wrong. Or maybe an inkling of a clue that we've decided to ignore because, you know, "I'll kidnap Peach for good, this time, you'll see!"

Also I remember seeing discussion somewhere about how Bowser could be interpreted as someone with abandonment issues, which could play into this too; people will stay if you keep them by force, after all, whether by kidnapping, marriage, or both.

So yeah. Not the greatest outlook on things, obviously.

Regardless, I think that in this universe where Mario and Bowser are both aromantic they both get on track to consciously realizing it post-Super Mario Odyssey.

Mario because as he and Peach are flying home Peach obviously wants to know why he snap-proposed to her like that. To which Mario has to sheepishly explain how his inner competitiveness had flared up when Bowser had tried to propose to her again. To which Peach sighs because yeah, of course it was that. And then Mario gets around to asking if Peach is okay, to which Peach describes the nightmare of a past while she'd had because of this wedding business, to which the conversation pivots to weddings in general, and then romance in general.

And Mario contributes to the conversation as best he can, but… he knows from watching Luigi's romance-related ups and downs over the years that the way he himself thought about the concept wasn’t…correct.

But Peach won't stand for Mario thinking that there was something wrong with him; it takes an overnight stint or three in the castle library (to Toadsworth's chagrin) before she finally finds an answer for him. So she invites him to the castle for tea, and for a vocabulary lesson that'll change his life.

Meanwhile Bowser sits on the moon,. Reflecting on his utter defeat that must have been more crushing than he'd thought for him to not even remember how he got out of that cave, thinking about how even aside from Mario being on his tail the entire time this whole wedding planning business was more of a stress-filled ordeal than he'd initially thought it would be, considering the fact that the post-wedding future that he'd figured he'd figure out as it came had stubbornly remained an amorphous blob of ambiguity instead of snapping into place during those final hours, despite the Broodals' assurances to the contrary. He'd indulge in a rare bout of self-reflection, maybe, about these inconsistencies.

And then he would shrug, get up, and make his way home. Because while he wasn’t particularly sure about marrying Peach anymore, he knew he would still be kidnapping her. Because of the engaging process of making and executing perfectly laid plans, because of the adrenaline rush of a good fight, because of the future bonding experiences with his kids, because the rest of his minions needed something to do, ha.

Because of the fact that he was Bowser, King of the Koopas, and he's absolutely not the sort of person to just give up, even if his core motivations have shifted slightly! And just as Mario would always show up to ruin his plans and take Peach back home Bowser would just make new plans, and he was going to successfully pull a kidnapping off and beat Mario once and for all, he just knew it!

#idk everything changes. nothing changes. you know how it is #i'm far more attached to the aro mario hc; the aro bowser one's mostly a fun thought exercise haha #arospecfanworksweek #mlv.txt #i dunno why i wrote so much supplementary text lmao #it's admittedly not the most comprehensible thing I've ever written ^^;#smb #aro

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josefavomjaaga · 10 months

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Correspondence between Ney and Soult during the Prussian Campaign 1806

I’ve come across some great source books on Gallica and Google Books: Foucart, "Campagne de Prusse", detailing just about every important letter and order written and exchanged during that campaign. Below are some excerpts from Volume 2: Prenzlau – Lubeck that seem to point, like @impetuous-impulse has already resumed in this post, to Soult and Ney being still at rather friendly terms with each other by autumn 1806. (Much friendlier actually than, for example, Ney and Murat, the latter being extremely brief in his letters to Ney.)

For context: Soult and Ney are headed in the same direction, in the region of Magdeburg, cutting off that city and looking for the corps of the Duke of Weimar, Soult being about a day’s march ahead, and Ney supporting him.

Soult to Ney, Groß-Wanzleben, 21 October 1806 [… Explains that he will move his corps, technically in defiance of orders he had received, but very much following Napoleon’s overall plan] Thus I will leave at your disposal all the villages which are on the right of Gross-Rodensleben, of Nieder-Dodeleben and Diesdorf, to be occupied by your troops, and I will take charge of all the left. However, if it were possible for you to come tomorrow morning early to Gross-Wanzleben and even before your troops have moved, we will agree on the positions that the two corps should take. In addition, I will not give any orders until I have seen you, and this is all the less inconvenient as tomorrow's march will be short. You tell me, my dear Marshal, that His Serene Highness the Grand Duke of Berg has placed at your disposal the dragoon division commanded by General Klein. The Prince has written me as much, and today I sent out to various points to look for this division. If tomorrow morning I have the pleasure of seeing you, we will agree on its services so that when necessary it will serve both of us. I repeat to you, my dear Marshal, the assurance of my perfect attachment. […]

That’s "mon cher maréchal" no less than twice in one paragraph, plus wanting to meet in person to plan what to do next. For Soult, that's socialicing to an almost scary degree 😁.

And apparently headquarters counted on those two getting along rather well:

Berthier to Soult, Dessau, 22 October 1806 […] The Emperor recommends that you not be too confident, that you keep your corps well united, that you always consult with Marshal Ney, so that if the enemy were to attack you by a sudden and unexpected movement, Marshal Ney would be in a position to support you. […]

Something that the two of them were already doing, obviously. And even successfully, as Ney reports back to Berthier:

Ney to Berthier, Wanzleben, 22 October 1806 […] I have seen Marshal Soult and we are in complete agreement on everything relating to the service to be carried out concerning the investment of Magdeburg on the left bank of the Elbe. […]

That’s a far cry from the convention of Lugo!

And finally, Soult – extremely carefully! - trying to get Ney to do something without actually ordering him:

Soult to Ney, Hohen-Warsleben, 23 October 1806, 10 PM At last, my dear Marshal, here is the column of the Duke of Weimar making its appearance. [reports of his advance guard having encountered the enemy and what they have learned; what he plans to do …] I will leave in front of Magdeburg another division of infantry and 2 regiments of cavalry, because it is probable that as soon as the enemy in the town learns of the combat, he will bring out part of his forces to create a diversion. If, after having made this disposition, you judged it appropriate to have the remainder of your cavalry brought to the left, in the direction of Eichenbarleben, and even to present a head of column of infantry, I believe that the enemy thus enveloped could not escape and that we would take all that makes up this column. I am telling you in confidence what I think would be appropriate in this circumstance. Please believe me that I am not putting any pretence into it, and that, if you had been the first to be informed, I would have received your advice with pleasure and gratitude. Please let me know what you intend to do, so that if necessary I can adjust my arrangements.

He’s almost apologetic about daring to make a suggestion to Ney. Obviously, he knows that Ney does not like this at all.

#napoleon's marshals #jean de dieu soult #michel ney #those two #they can be quite dovish #prussian campaign #magdeburg 1806

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charlotterhea · 22 days

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Time for the next round of fics for the Summer Fic Reading Challenge.

5. Mission fic

There aren't that many mission fics posted for the HP fandom - and even fewer of them are completed or on the shorter side of things. Since my time's running out a bit I was looking for a not-too-long fic and finally settled for "Sticky Situations" by roni_mac. It's a microfic featuring Tonks and Remus and I enjoyed it very much. Made me grin and sigh in happy.

10. Crossover or fusion fic

As I mentioned earlier, I don't really have other fandoms I read fanfiction for, I'm fully committed to HP. 😆 So I had to look for a fandom for this prompt as well and in the end, I went with one I already have chosen before: Supernatural. And so I stumbled upon "Before You Die [Know This]" by ForgetThePlotBunniesPlotPangunsInstead. Never expected to ever read a John/Harry fic but I have to say I enjoyed it! Harry (or Hadrian as he calls himself here) is a bit on the rougher side, as most of the SPN characters are, but it suits him and I loved how he cared for Teddy. An entertaining read indeed!

6. OT3/Polyamory

Wasn't that easy to find a fitting story for this tag since my OT3 (Hermione/Severus/Ron) at this point has 17 stories; 3 are written by me, 4 are incomplete, 1 is falsely tagged, and with the rest, I don't really vibe. So I took a look at other Snamione threesomes and found "Accidentally On Purpose" by remarkable1. It features Hermione, Ginny, and Severus and is mostly PWP but since the women are planning to repeat this and make Severus a part of their relationship, I guess it counts. It was a hot read and I enjoyed it very much. ^^

17. Only one bed

Contrary to Severus and Hermione in this story, fate did actually arrange the right thing for me because @frenchpresswriter happened to publish exactly the kind of story I needed for my challenge. And not only that, she also gave a well-used trope a twist, something I love doing as well! "Two for the price of one" is a collaboration with @lunap999 so there's also a breathtaking and hot af art in this story you should absolutely check out! But do read the story as well, it's funny and adorable and just what I needed tonight. ^^

21. Fic from your first fandom

I was a bit contemplating this one because technically, I was a huge X-Files fan when I was younger. But I've never been part of a fandom because nobody around shared my excitement and I didn't have internet back in the day (yes, I'm that old). So I went for the first fandom I actively participated in: Buffy. And for one of my favourite ships back then: Willow/Giles. Yes, I've always had a thing for age gaps. 😂 Browsing the ship tag on AO3, I stumbled upon "Family" by glasswrks and, honestly, I think I'll need some time to recover from the cuteness of this little fic. Willow and Giles happily married? Yes, please! I loved it, brought back some memories. ^^

So... Only five more to go. I might make it after all... 😁

#summer fic reading challenge #fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction #btvs fanfiction #fic recs

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wanderlustmagician · 8 months

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Hello!! I just want to say that I’m obsessed with your Atlantis au. It’s brilliant!! I have a quick question and I apologize if you’ve answered it already! For the Atlantis au what is everyone’s name and age? Thanks again for writing this au! And you can just ignore my question if you want! I’m just curious! 😁

Ahhhh hello! Thank you! I’m so glad you enjoy it <3

I haven’t answered this yet and am more than happy to. :)

So I’ve already stated Wind and Twi’s ages for a prompt fill, but I’ll explain a little the reasoning. I’m also only doing the boys… mostly because I haven’t fully done anything for all the girls. Some of these I only decide when it becomes necessary. So for those not familiar… in the movie, Kida says she’s like almost 9,000 years old. We know she was a small child when the city sank and that she’s biologically in her mid-20s at the time of events in the movie. This is where I draw my inspiration.

Wind, AKA Leon (Latin, lion) - Red Lion Mask

Role: Border Guardian // Age: 340 - 624 years old

Physically he looks 16 years old, but having been born several hundred years after their area sank as an effect on his aging. It’s much slower hence why at over 600, he still looks 16. He also has the brain age of a 16 yr old boy. So expect dumb boy things out of him.

Twilight, AKA Lykos (Latin, Wolf) - Grey Wolf Mask

Role: Child of the Pillars // Age: 150 - 411 years old

Mentally 19 yrs old, physically 19 years old, chronologically like 6 - well maybe not exactly, but point is that it’s really murky. Technically a ‘foreigner’ but the story of his arrival is a bit cloudy for most. He pretty much just appeared, sans the memories of a roughly 7 month span prior to his arrival. This is because of the nature of what happened when The Pillars yoinked him from the Surface.

Sky, AKA Caelum (Latin, Sky/Heaven) - Sheer White Half Face Veil

Role: Temple Sky Knight // Age: 1,200 - 1,500 years old

Looks like he’s in his early 20s. Sky Knight’s don’t wear masks because it’s seen as dishonorable to wear them in the temple. They wear half face veils to show their piety while also keeping their eyes free of anything that could blind them to potential dangers.

Legend, AKA Veteran - Bunny Mask (in Pink)

Role: Royal Cartographer // Age: [Redacted]

Physically appears around the same age as Twilight. His true age is [Redacted] due to a disparity on when he actually arrived. He technically doesn’t do exactly what is usually expected of those with his sort of mask. Instead of holing up in the city, he goes out to explore and charts all their maps.

Hyrule, AKA Rue - Korok Leaf Mask

Role: Apothecary (Apprentice) // Age: 490 - 711 years old

He’s physically around the age of 18. Similarly to Twi and Legend. He wanders the islands and caves a lot, hunting for herbs and things for remedies.

Time, AKA Celatum (Latin, hidden/secret) - Mask Unknown

Role: Advisor to the Queen // Age: 2,000+ years old

He was in his early teens when the city sank. Hasn’t appeared to age since he reached the appearance of roughly early to mid 30s. No one has seen his mask, usually wears either a beaded veil or sheer eye band in Court.

Four AKA Vir (Latin, man) - Mouse Mask

Role: Blacksmith // Age: 2,000+

He looks like he’s 16, so same age as Wind. He was a small baby when the city sank. Doesn’t usually wear his mask due to concerns it will catch fire.

Wild AKA Trux (Latin, Wild/fierce) - Unknown

Role: Unknown // Age: 18 years

He’s new to their way of life so he’s not in the same boat of being centuries old. Yet.

#wandering thoughts #asks #anon #thank you for asking <3

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dean-winchester-is-a-warrior · 3 months

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Things Learned and Unlearned Ch. 7

Series Summary: Y/N has spent her life trying to outrun her mother's reputation. When she meets the rich and successful playboy, Dean Winchester, how quickly can he get her to stop running?

Pairings/Characters: Dean Winchester x Y/N, Sam Winchester, Jessica Winchester, Lucy Winchester (OC)

Chapter Warnings: Mutual masturbation (brief), Handjob (Brief), Oral (m&f receiving), sixty-nine-ing.

Word Count: 2,535

A/N: Here's Ch. 7. I so appreciate all the love and support you're all giving this series. Hope you enjoy the latest installment. ❤️

Series Master List || Main Master List || Tag Lists

Y/N pressed the glass stem from her perfume bottle to the pulse point in her neck and wrists. A heady scent of jasmine and hyacinth floated up to her. She loved the scent and hoped Dean would too. She heard a light knock on the door and smiled. She was about to find out.

She opened the door, her body already thrumming with desire. But she was taken up short when she saw Jessica standing in her dressing gown on the other side.

"Jessica? What is it? Is Lucy alright?"

Jessica nodded. "Yes, she's fine. She's sound asleep. Can I come in?"

Y/N stepped back to allow her entrance. She took a quick look into the hallway, praying Dean would stay away until Jessica had stated her business and left.

Jessica moved over to the little wooden chair in the corner and sat down. She remained silent and Y/N sat down on the edge of the bed, nervous about what had prompted this midnight visit.

Jessica straightened her shoulders and took a deep breath, clearly steeling herself. The action made Y/N worried enough to start wringing her hands.

"I want you to take these two weeks as a vacation."

Y/N let go of the breath she'd been holding. A vacation? That was what Jessica wanted to talk to her about?

"You should spend that time deciding what you want to do with your future." Jessica said quietly.

Y/N's heart jumped back into her throat. "Are you…trying to fire me?" Y/N asked, her throat dry.

Jessica looked stricken. "No, Y/N, of course not!"

Y/N felt her rigid shoulders relax.

"I just want you to have the chance to…" Jessica broke off and Y/N noticed two bright pink spots had appeared on her cheeks. "I want you to have the time to spend with Dean."

Y/N felt her face flood with color. Have I really been that transparent? She wondered.

"I don't know what you mean." Y/N said, unconvincingly.

Jessica gave her a very knowing look before continuing. "I believe that you and Dean have a connection and I want you to have time to explore that so that you will hopefully come to the same conclusion I have. Dean will not marry you. He may make you an offer, but it will not be marriage."

Y/N's head jerked up to look Jessica in the eye, her expression giving her away.

Jessica nodded. "I see. He's already made the offer. Well, you should know then, that that is all he's capable of, Y/N. He's not the kind of man who marries. Or at least if he ever does, it will be a marriage of convenience, one that will enhance his company somehow or strengthen his coffers. He will not marry for love; it isn’t the kind of man he is. He’s incredibly practical and only focused on his company and his carousing."

Jessica shook her head. "I know I'm making him sound terrible, and I don't mean to. As I've said, he's a wonderful brother and uncle. But…" She hesitated.

"Well, Dean and Sam had a very hard time with their father as boys. To hear Sam tell it, Dean got the worst end of things since he was the oldest. Their father pushed the boys into the business very young. By the sounds of things he was a deeply unhappy man. He lost his wife when Sam was just a baby, and never remarried. Work and his company became the only driving force in his life.”

Jessica shook her head. “As I’ve said before, he tried to drill that same work ethic into the boys. Everything for the company, nothing for themselves. Dean got Sam out of that life, which I’m very grateful for, of course. But Dean has always followed in his father’s footsteps. As such, the only reason he'd ever marry would be to improve the company - to bring in a large dowry or secure a business deal."

Y/N sat transfixed listening to things she was sure Dean didn't want her to know. She didn't want to hear this from Jessica. If Dean wanted to tell her about his childhood, he would. She knew what it was like to feel secretive about your early years and the parents that had shaped you.

"I'm not sure what I'm supposed to say to all of this." She knew her voice had a bit of an edge to it, but she couldn't help it.

Jessica seemed to hear her annoyance because she became slightly defensive.

"You don't have to say anything, Y/N. I just want you to know the truth of the situation, so you don't go into this time with Dean holding on to some kind romantic notion. He is who he is and you can't change that."

Y/N didn't bother to hide her frustration now. "I'm not some romantic fool, Mrs. Winchester." She added the formality in an attempt to remind herself that she was speaking to her employer; her employer who seemed to know something had happened with Dean and wasn't immediately firing her for her inappropriate behavior. She took a deep breath.

"I understand what you're saying. I have never believed or imagined that Dean was interested in marrying a governess from questionable beginnings. And really, you don't have to give me a vacation. I don't need or want 'time with Dean' as you put it." Even as she said it, images of two weeks spent alone with Dean began rolling through her mind, making her last words into a complete lie.

Jessica's face took on the stubborn look Y/N had come to learn meant she would brook no argument. "You will have the next two weeks off. I have asked Dean to find a nice hotel for you to stay in. This time off is our Christmas gift to you. You are welcome to do whatever you want with it."

Jessica stood up. "Well, I should go. I just wanted to tell you to take the time, and…and tell you the other things I've told you, in the hope that the next two weeks will allow you to return home happier than you've been."

She reached out for Y/N's hand and squeezed it. "I really just want you to be happy, Y/N. Truly."

Her big blue eyes were sincere and slightly moist. Y/N nodded and squeezed back.

"I know. I'm so grateful for your kindness and understanding."

Jessica gave her a slight smile and then left the room.

Y/N dropped back onto the side of the bed and put her head in her hands. She heard the door open and close quietly and she knew without looking up that Dean had entered.

When she did look up, all her thoughts scattered at the sight of him standing just inside the door. He was fully dressed in the black suit he'd worn to dinner that night. She supposed he didn't want to be strolling around the hallway half dressed. But she wanted to peel the jacket and shirt off of him immediately. They hid too much.

He walked slowly to where she sat and got down on his haunches. He tipped her chin up.

"I saw Jessica walking out. What did she want?" He must have seen Y/N's look of panic because he shook his head. "She didn't see me. I thought I heard her voice coming from your room, so I hid around the corner until she went back downstairs. What did she want?" He repeated.

Y/N shrugged. "She just wanted to tell me that she was giving me two weeks off, and that I'm going to be staying in a hotel."

Dean smiled and stood up. "Yes. I found you a beautiful place to stay. I think you'll really like it."

He reached out and grabbed hold of her upper arms, pulling her up to stand in front of him. He cupped her cheek. "Your suite has a private entrance." His thumb brushed her lower lip before he pressed his lips to hers, feather light.

Y/N breathed in deeply, drawing in his scent along with the courage to say what she wanted to say to him.

"I want to spend the two weeks with you."

Dean nodded and kissed her again, deeper this time. "Of course." He said, his breath a little rough. "I'll come over every night."

Y/N shook her head. He didn't understand her request.

"No, Dean. I want to live the next two weeks as if…as if I was your mistress."

Dean pulled back from her, studying her. "What do you mean?"

"Just what I said. If your offer still stands, I'd like to use these two weeks as a kind of test. I want to know just what my life would be like." The logical, proper side of her, the side that had spent her whole life trying desperately to escape even the smallest appearance of impropriety, was screaming at her that this was an awful idea.

But as she looked at Dean's smile, she knew she had to at least know what she was giving up if she continued living her life as a governess. Jessica had wanted her to make a decision about her future and in order to do that, she had to know both futures.

"Alright." Dean said, his eyes bright. "I'll set everything up."

Y/N nodded and was once again inexplicably shy. It was as though the boldness of her request had taken all her bravado and now she was just a shivering little virgin again, standing in the embrace of the most alluring man she'd ever known. She wanted him to kiss her and make her forget herself again. But she was no longer bold enough to ask him.

Thankfully, Dean seemed to have incredible intuition where she was concerned. In the span of a breath he scooped her into his arms and laid her on the bed. He undid the buttons on her nightgown all the way to her waist and then slid the garment out from underneath her, leaving her completely naked on the bed, shivering from his gaze more than from the cool air on her skin.

He took his jacket and tie off and then began to slowly unbutton his shirt. With every inch of skin he exposed Y/N could feel the tension build, first in her stomach, her muscles clenching with anticipation, before she began to feel the heat and wet pooling between her legs, her blood throbbing and pumping at her core.

She instinctively put her hand there, surprised at the heat and wet that she felt. As Dean slipped his shirt from his shoulders, she slipped her fingers into her slick folds, finding the button that Dean had stroked the last time they were together; she discovered she could make herself feel the same incredible tension and pleasure his touch had brought her. Well, it was almost the same.

Dean watched her, his gaze blazing. He watched her pleasure herself and the heat in his emerald green eyes made the pleasure more intense. Y/N stroked herself again and a moan escaped her as Dean popped open the button at his waistband.

He slipped his hand into the front of his pants, and Y/N knew he was stroking himself as well. His head fell back a moment before he pushed his pants all the way off.

Y/N looked at the long shaft that sprang forth and unlike the last time, the sight of him didn't surprise or frighten her. She knew the feel of it now, knew how it jumped slightly under her hand and she wanted to feel it again.

She sat up and reached out for him, wrapping his shaft in her hand the way he'd taught her. Her fingers were slick from her own body and the dampness made it easy to slide her hand up and down. Dean groaned loudly and the hard rod in her hand became even harder.

He pushed her down on the bed a little roughly, but she didn't mind. She felt and reciprocated his eagerness.

He climbed in beside her, but his head was aimed toward the end of the bed. At first she was confused until she felt his fingers where hers had been minutes ago. He rolled her onto her side and immediately began tasting her, his mouth hot and his tongue agile. He found the small nub inside the folds and grazed it slightly with his teeth before sucking on it gently.

Y/N turned her head into the pillow, barely smothering the sound of her scream. In seconds she felt her body convulsing, muscles clenching as waves of exquisite pleasure spread through her body.

She reached out to Dean, grabbing hold of his shaft, determined to give him the same release. She followed his lead and took him into her mouth, sucking gently. His guttural moan told her it felt just as good for him as it had for her. In almost as short a time as her, she felt his body buck and he pulled out of her mouth and spent himself on the bed.

But she was curious what he tasted like and pulled him back into her mouth to see. He tasted salty and ever so slightly sweet. He gave another shudder and was still.

She rolled over onto her back, loving the completely decadent feeling of being naked while Dean rested his cheek on her inner thigh. She could feel his stubble graze her sensitive skin there and the familiar tension begin to build again. Suddenly Dean grabbed hold of her hips and pulled her closer to him. He lifted her right leg and put it over his shoulder, so that he could pull her up to his mouth easily.

He began again, first licking and then sucking gently on that incredibly sensitive flesh. She exploded for a second time, but before she could even catch her breath, his mouth was back again, tongue exploring, pressing his fingers into the folds of her flesh until she felt herself break again.

And again.

Before long she was whimpering from both need and exhaustion. She had never in all her life imagined feeling this completely sated.

Finally Dean kissed his way back up her body until he was lying alongside her. He ran a hand up and down her torso, soothing her skin and nerves, and giving her the feeling of a well fed cat. She giggled sleepily at the thought.

Dean's voice came as a whisper to her ear. "What are you laughing at, sweetheart?"

She opened her eyes briefly to see his satisfied grin.

"I think I'm a cat." She said, knowing she was making no sense, but he'd just have to deal with it. He was the one that had turned her completely senseless.

She tried to tell him that, but instead gave in to the oblivion that approached, only managing to wrap her arm around his waist and snuggle her face into his shoulder before it encompassed her.

Jensen RPF and Any/All Characters: @lyarr24 @lacilou @deans-spinster-witch @globetrotter28 @suckitands33

@alwaystiredandconfused @evznackles @jackles010378 @impala67rollingthroughtown @krazykelly

@candy-coated-misery0731 @envyaurora95 @spnwoman @deans-baby-momma @luvr4miya

@arcannaa @viviwatchestv @winharry

Dean Fics Only: @roonthelittlespoon920 @slamminmine @zepskies @safiyas-world @aylacavebear

Any/All Fics Regardless of Character or Fandom: @kazsrm67 @slut-for-evans-stan @sexyvixen7 @nancymcl @hobby27

@waywardcheshire

Everything Incl. Fan Edits: @k-slla @leigh70 @eevvvaa @kickingitwithkirk @foxyjwls007

@notinthislife50 @roseblue373 @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @avanatural @mrsjenniferwinchester

@all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @deangirl96 @stoneyggirl2

#dean x y/n #dean x reader #dean winchester smut #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester au #dean winchester au fan fic series #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester

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britcision · 10 months

Text

So I made it 4 years without being struck down by AO3 Author Curse! But here we are. I’ll spare y’all the details but let’s just say “fuck this year” and leave it there. We’ve had the requisite Third Bad Thing and I will burn the universe down if it goes for a fourth

What this means for y’all, of course, is that there’s been a long ass break between last chapter and this one! Aaaaand this one is being broken in half because it is Longer Than Tumblr Allows

(And they’ve lessened how many paragraph breaks you get cuz this one is only about 9.5k and it made me add it in thirds, woe is me)

So, as usual, links to the first chapter, last chapter, and the link to the AO3 version is I think in BOTH, so if you can’t find it from there I can’t help you 😁

First Chapter:

Last Chapter:

And just a little recap where last we left off:

Bruce has gone to the Watchtower to debrief the Justice League about Amity Park and the Anti Ecto Acts, and been told that Jason has left the land of the living! But like, on purpose

Jason and Danny have gone to visit Frostbite and learned that they are ghost-bonded, which you should take seriously like being ghost-married, and that Jason is gonna pop out Pitty in a couple more days/weeks and have to emotionally raise a ghost-baby

Tucker, Tim, and Conner are all playing video games and hiding out from the Amity Parker/Bat Chat for Tim and Tucker’s mutual stalking ways, which Sam blew wide open by sharing Timblr, as punishment for Tucker not telling her they were all alive

(Danny’s off the hook cuz Tucker was haunting his phone with soundtracks for half the day)

And Damian’s off being Sketchy And Mysterious

————————

Well You Did Get Down On One Knee (part 1)

The evening was beginning to draw in, the sun getting low over Gotham city. Between her patrol the night before, helping Signal out with a case, and then that brief group heart attack about Jason, it had already been a really long day.

Spoiler cracked her neck a couple times and sighed, then sunk into the shadow behind a gargoyle.

It was smaller than usual… and occupied. Robin glowered up at her, leaping up to sit on the gargoyle’s head instead. He looked for all the world like he wanted to hiss at her like a cranky cat, which diffused all of Spoiler’s tension (but would only make his worse if she mentioned it. Maybe tomorrow).

Sighing philosophically she settled back against the base of the gargoyle, tipping her head back to see him.

“Hey… what are you doing out so early? Usually you lot wait until sundown to swing from the shadows,” she pointed out (rather fairly, she thought). Totally ignoring that she was 1000% usually one of “you lot”.

Robin just scowled disdainfully down at her, then twisted his head away to glare at the city instead.

“As if I needed any more reason to be out than you do,” he sniffed archly.

Spoiler grinned, puffing herself up. She did have an answer for this one, and, being generous or not, winding Robin up was always a treat.

“Hey, I was actually requested today. Signal needed a second pair of eyes on the back door of a bust. Didn’t see you there,” she added innocently, a brow rising.

It was technically possible that Robin could have suited up and left the manor in between Bruce’s message and Tim’s response. Spoiler wouldn’t put money on it though.

He’d have had to be on his way down already, and while they could all change quickly, there were no rushed or sloppy patches to her experienced eye.

His hair was even neatly slicked back into the traditional Robin spikes, one every Robin but her and Duke had used during their time as the baby bird.

Nah, he’d not rushed out in a panic, even if he was still more tense than he should have been. Every line of the kid was tight with… Spoiler cocked her head thoughtfully.

Frustration?

Definitely not unusual, Damian didn’t have Dick’s temper but he’d spent pretty much all of his first few years in Gotham unbearably frustrated with them all. It had just been a while since she’d seen it so… visibly.

And for all Steph was a gleeful little shit and loved poking at trouble, she wasn’t cruel. There was no point in pushing Robin if he was already on edge.

So she shrugged nonchalantly and looked forward instead, reaching back over her head to pat him gently on the foot. He didn’t dodge, which only cemented her decision.

“‘Course, no rule against taking a daylight run if you’re in the mood. See anything interesting?” She asked innocently.

Kid wouldn’t admit it if he had been worrying.

Silence reigned for another long moment, and then Robin huffed and dropped down to the rooftop beside her, folding himself back into the sharper shadow the waning daylight provided.

“No.” Short and sweet, unlike the kid himself.

But he also hadn’t left, and Spoiler was gonna call that a win.

“Will you be out tonight too?” She asked instead of pushing, reminding herself yet again; he’d open up in his own time.

Hypothetically.

Robin made a soft, disgusted noise, glowering at the smog filled sky. Probably even in the right direction for the Watchtower.

“I intend to be. Someone must keep an eye on things,” he grumbled, and Spoiler made an effort not to take it personally.

B had been majorly distracted with all this Amity Park business, not even breathing down their necks about the usual nightly reports. The rogues hadn’t exactly noticed yet, but the goons had.

The big Bat himself not making an appearance for a couple of nights usually attracted some comment, and an up-til-now entirely Bat-free new year?

The guys she’d helped Signal grab today had been muttering about it right until they ran into her arms. Fists.

They’d mentioned not seeing Stabby Robin either though.

Which she might as well also mention.

“Weren’t you out last night too? I saw your gear missing when I dropped by at the end of the night,” she added when he tensed again, hands wedged in her utility belt. “Didn’t hear you on comms though.”

And that was more than just rude; it was bad protocol, and Robin, for all his other faults, respected the strictness of protocol. Not being chatty was one thing, but if you were out on the town you had to call in.

He stayed silent, not looking at her. Spoiler decided he could use just a little nudge. Totally not because she was getting impatient. And nosy.

“Y’know unless you went out tech free I can just ask Oracle,” she pointed out gently, giving his shoulder a gentle bump.

It got him to glower up at her anyway.

“I was not on patrol,” he grumbled, whites of his mask narrowed before returning his glare to the city at large, “like I am not today.”

When he didn’t elaborate, Spoiler flipped a mental coin. Figured why not; they were already doing well.

Kid must be on the verge of having to, dread the thought, ask for help.

“And what would you be doing out and about if not patrolling…” she began, then stopped when a piece clicked suddenly into place.

Robin, Damian, was about as social as a feral cat. And about as friendly with anyone who got close to those he considered his.

Right now, Danny Fenton and his friends had more than half the family utterly wound up. All except Bruce in a good way, Spoiler was the first to admit, but Robin wouldn’t see it like that.

The only trick was, how to word the question.

Spoiler liked blunt. It made her stand out from the bats, who all played way too much mental and emotional chicken to be healthy. She’d always been more of a bird that way.

“Wouldn’t have anything to do with Hood’s little disappearance today, would it?” She asked instead, grinning broadly when Robin twitched.

Hit the nail on the head.

From the scowl he shot her he knew it too, and looked away quickly enough that he knew there was no taking it back. He folded his arms across his chest and sulked and fuck he was just adorable.

She’d bet anything Dick used to pout exactly like that.

Still, she tempered the grin down to a slight smile. Dropped a hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently and letting go when he pulled away.

“Worried me too. Were you close enough to see anything?” Because yeah, if Robin was already at least on his way into uniform before the message arrived?

Spoiler would put easy, easy money on him having been already tailing Jason and Danny around. Last night too, probably. She and Cass had left early to take the night shift, leaving Tim and Damian with the Amity Parkers.

Damian had one hell of a dose of his father’s paranoia, and Steph considered it a solemn duty to teach him about personal boundaries to keep him from turning out just like the old bat.

Just a little friendly stalking from the rooftops didn’t really count though. Not between family.

Robin had tensed right up again too, but when she didn’t push the contact or needle at him he slowly relaxed back down. Scowled at her feet instead of his own.

“No,” he admitted bitterly, both at definitely having been busted and probably at having nothing to report, “Todd… Hood spoke to the magician. They argued, he went back inside Freeze’s place and did not reappear when his tracker went through the roof and into the sky.”

Spoiler blinked, mildly surprised.

“Hood was wearing a tracker? Didn’t think he was in the mood.”

“He wasn’t,” Robin corrected with a derisive sniff.

And… yeah, they were gonna have to do a little more work on that whole “boundaries” thing. Although the odds of Hood not noticing that he’d been tagged were lower than Robin probably thought. Keeping a tag on him that he didn’t want there?

Nah. She may not exactly trust Jason, but that was how she knew how good he was at finding and disabling rogue trackers. And sure, Damian was better than her at some things, but if Cass couldn’t sneak a tracker onto Red Hood no one could.

Kinda cute that Jason let the little guy think he’d successfully bugged him.

At least the constant mild stalking was just standard for the family.

Shaking her head, she gave him a gentle nudge with her elbow.

“That’s rough. Flying’s cheating,” she commiserated with a sly look to the sky.

She’d heard a super cross Oracle’s radar. Conner, almost certainly if Robin was still out alone.

Too bad he’d not thought to call his own Superboy, though taking flight himself wouldn’t have helped if dimensional travel followed.

Robin made another disgusted little tut, then pushed off the gargoyle and stormed away. Spoiler watched him go for a moment, then shrugged.

“Hey, go get some sleep if you’re coming back out tonight,” she called after him. Grinned when he flipped her off without turning.

If he’d been off stalking Jason and Danny two days in a row, he’d need some rest.

“And don’t forget your report,” she teased and actually laughed when he raised his other hand to flip her off with both before leaping off the edge of the roof, swinging back towards the bat cave.

Stephanie Brown had never been prouder in her life than the first day Damian had said “fuck” in front of his dad. Far be it from her to demand anyone transform into a social butterfly, but she personally was pretty damn sure that nothing was gonna help Damian out of his “raised by assassins” shell than learning some good old fashioned swearwords.

And a little teenaged rebellion. The proudest day was totally gonna be when he finally told his grandfather to fuck off (or any suitable equivalent; Steph wasn’t choosy).

Leaning back into the gargoyle’s shadow, Spoiler surveyed the city below. Technically, she’d been out as long as Damian had; if she wanted to be out tonight she’d need a quick nap too.

Or, more fun, she could nip back to the manor, kidnap Cass, and they could find and bully Tim and Tucker in person. Yeah, that was gonna be it.

Jason was feeling good, really. Actually a little surprised at how good, considering.

That crunchy little ecto-ice chip had been better than a gallon of coffee, filling him with energy like he’d actually gotten a full night’s sleep. (Not that he knew much about how that actually felt, at least not when not recovering from serious injury.)

He hadn’t actually felt this good since the night Danny slept over, which had been the night before last. Didn’t sound all that impressive, except that it had been the best he’d felt in half a decade.

Maybe the full decade. For all Robin made him magic, skipping sleep to fight crime had done a number on him in his teens. If he’d been as willing as Dickie and Tim to slack on his schoolwork, maybe…

Yeah, no, Tim was the poster child for Do Not Emulate This Sleep Schedule.

What mattered was that even after running the docks down with Black Bat for more than half the night and then getting up to get Danny, Jason felt fucking great.

Even after three separate courses of Bruce’s bullshit, both directly and through the medium of John fucking Constantine. Not so long ago, Bruce would never even dare call him, much less try and set up a bat cave ambush. That… was probably technically a good sign?

Didn’t feel like one at the moment, but Jason actually felt almost good enough to be charitable with the old bat. A little emotionally wrung out, sure, but he felt lighter for… having whatever that had been. Like the stress that had been compacting his chest had finally eased.

Jason was self aware enough to admit he’d probably had more than one breakdown owed to him. Maybe not a “take to the bed”, “trip to the sea” full Victorian lady meltdown, but he’d had a whole baby dropped on him. Except somehow worse.

He damn well deserved that freak out, and now that it was over and he’d been given what kinda felt like the ghost equivalent of speed… He felt like his brain was finally working again.

Which… meant he was fully processing that his fucking soul was vibrating in time with Danny’s. And every other ghost could just. Tell.

That was gonna make fight club… actually, Jason had no idea what the fuck it was gonna make fight club. By all accounts Danny being the Ghost King hadn’t made any of them less likely to throw down with him.

If anything, Danny had warned Jason that him being a “young” ghost would make the others more eager to fight. It was a kind of play, bonding and teaching the new baby their powers.

Sounded fucking terrifying by all accounts and Jason was just glad he had Danny to explain it to him, since apparently full ghosts just… knew it wasn’t serious. Even baby ghosts came into existence recognising the game.

Halfas didn’t.

Whiiiich meant that all the “playful” threats of dismemberment had sounded pretty fucking real to Danny, back when he’d been a baby ghost and had half the Zone flocking to “play” with him.

Pitty let out a rumbly little growl, like a sulking dog and Jason hid a snicker. Yeah, he’d also be kicking their asses that little bit harder for that given half a chance.

Actually, if they kept holding fight club, Pitty could take a chunk out of them itself.

That thought got him a contented little purr, which was weird enough that Jason was going to focus back in on Frostbite’s broader explanation. Which… he should have been doing anyway. At least this part wasn’t solely for his benefit though.

“In the sense that you have tied yourselves together, it may be somewhat like a marriage… however, it is a very different relationship. In a true love-union, your signatures would beat in time,” the yeti explained, gesturing once more to the screen.

Jason’s blob continued to pulse and blur a fraction of a beat behind Danny’s. Definitely not quite in time.

This was a relief. Yup. And Jason’s cheeks definitely weren’t any warmer than they’d been a minute ago, before he knew that, again, his fucking soul was echoing Danny’s.

Frostbite gave his tablet a couple more taps, and a pulsing blue line linked the images on the screen.

“In your case, young knight, your allegiance is marked in both your resonance and in your aura, which now carries a link to your King. In this way, even if the Great One is not beside you, all ghosts will know that you are the chosen protector of their King. His status is what defines your role as a knight, instead of a more casual bond.”

“No one’s king yet,” Danny protested, folding his arms and leaning into Jason’s side. Letting a little more of his weight rest on him.

Jason leaned in too, frowning from the screen to Frostbite.

“And all the other ghosts can just… see this?” He asked, not really sure what he was hoping to be told.

Frostbite switched from giving Danny a fond smile back to Jason, nodding brightly.

“Oh yes. Ectoplasm is very easily influenced by emotion, and bonds can form quite quickly. I presume you took an oath?” He asked, eyes sparkling in a way that made Jason pretty damn sure he’d met Clockwork.

Which, now that he thought about it…

Jason huffed out another deep breath, running a hand through his hair. As much as John Fucking Constantine specifically could ride a cactus straight to Hell… the guy mighta had the faintest inkling of a point about one thing.

“Yeah… about that.” He pulled a face, gaze tracking away from the others and down to the floor.

Would they think he was a dumbass too? Danny had been there when Clockwork made the offer and he’d been pretty against it, but Jason had thought he understood why.

It hadn’t sounded anything like Constantine’s claims of what he’d signed up for.

In the end, it was easier to address the question to Frostbite’s large hairy toes.

“I, uh… I made an oath to Clockwork, but do I have… a contract or something? The asshole magician I mentioned earlier was going on and on about eternal fucking servitude bullshit but it’d be nice to have something to shove in his face,” he added quickly, arm slipping back and almost around Danny (but with his hand still firmly on the table).

He didn’t need to wait to feel the guilt in Danny’s aura to head it off.

Jason wasn’t having second thoughts. He wasn’t sorry for what he’d signed up for, and when it came right down to it…

He didn’t think people could lie through their auras. Even when he was trying to project something like “I’m fine” and he wasn’t, he was pretty sure Danny could tell.

He could sure as hell tell when Danny was bluffing through his, which had happened maybe once total.

He trusted Danny. He trusted Frostbite. He even mostly trusted Clockwork, because for all the guy had been a little sketchy, Jason had felt his sincerity. How deeply he cared for Danny.

Keeping Danny safe forever didn’t sound like eternal servitude. Eternal babysitting, maybe, if Danny was being a pain in the ass, but he’d never top Damian at his most bratty.

Jason woulda been trying to protect Danny anyway. As far as he knew, knighthood just made that easier.

Which was another reason he’d like a look at his contract. You didn’t make it onto the streets as Robin without learning to read for loopholes, hidden clauses, and fine print. He may have already signed on the dotted line, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t find some wiggle room.

Danny, about to say something either apologetic or self deprecating, huffed out a breath as Jason’s arm slipped around him. Winded up giving him a half smile instead.

“Yeah… that’s a good point. I still need to find out if I can fire your ass.”

“Still didn’t hire me,” Jason pointed out archly, bumping his arm to knock Danny forwards a little.

The other halfa huffed a laugh this time and bumped him back.

“Yeah, and I gotta work out how to hire you so I can then immediately fire you,” he shot back.

Frostbite cut them both off with a raised hand, though he still looked fondly amused. Like they were cute little kids or something stupid.

“You will have to discuss this with Clockwork directly, young knight, but I do not believe a knighthood typically comes with a contract. It is a duty one is granted, and one that may be rescinded if you fail, but it is not a deal,” he explained patiently.

Jason’s brows furrowed a little, but at least he could feel Danny’s confusion-puzzled-not sure beside him too. He wasn’t the only one who wasn’t quite sure what that meant.

Maybe he shoulda looked a little more into magic shit while he was with the League of Assassins. That would have been the time, especially if the Lazarus Pits were the just grunged ectoplasm.

“It kinda sounded like a deal when he offered it,” he said almost as a question, glancing back at Danny for confirmation.

Danny nodded. So it wasn’t just Jason.

“He gave me a cool magic gun in exchange for keeping Danny hale and hearty. Protecting him in the living and Infinite realms,” Jason added in case the wording counted, more sure as he remembered some of the reasons.

Fuck, had that only been a week ago? It felt like it’d been a whole year.

Frostbite gave them a neutral shrug, inclining his head.

“As I said, you will need to ask Clockwork directly. All I can tell you is that it is not innate to the position; a knighthood is not usually something bought and sold,” he explained patiently.

Danny hummed an agreement, cheek resting on Jason’s shoulder again.

“It’s normally all ghost-to-ghost too, so is there a way we can check if the halfa thing has changed it?” He asked Frostbite, leaning against the table too and totally not actually putting his arm around Jason back.

Jason felt a little more tension leech back out of him. Which raised another good point, actually.

“And not related or anything, but if you gave me a buncha those ice crystals could I just chew them to get the ecto for…” he hesitated, waving his free hand at his general chest area again.

Honestly, given half a chance he’d love to get a bowl full and try and pop the pit out in one go… it’d probably be easier to train from outside his body where it wouldn’t immediately know he was so full of shit… his own aura notwithstanding.

Yeah, he was still a little worried about being anyone’s emotional guide, but if he could just get the damn thing out in the world… maybe it could have other guides too.

“To answer the simpler question first, young knight, unfortunately the energized ectoplasm is only a short term boost and will not affect either of your cores. I will provide you with a small supply to assist your emotional control whilst you stabilize, if you wish?” Frostbite offered gently, a slight smile on his face.

Jason hesitated, considering things for a moment, then nodded. Sure, it wasn’t a solid “yes here is the answer to all your problems Jason just smack it in”, but it was a concrete solution to what had actually been worrying him.

Having another one of those weird “episodes”. He’d still be waiting to get Pitty all the way out, but at least he had a backup plan until then. He could pop an ecto-crystal each morning, get some energy, and worry less about night patrols.

Shit, he’d have more energy than he’d had since he died. The others were gonna be jealous as hell, but it wasn’t like they could steal and take his ghost meds. Probably.

Jason… wasn’t quite ready to think about the panic attack itself. He felt fine now, way better, and it wasn’t like it was the first he’d had.

Just…

Just the first that he remembered. That his heart started racing, his head rushing, ears filled with rushing static and the world hadn’t just melted into a green haze of blood and violence.

His early training with the League of Assassins had involved a lot of losing himself to the Pit. He’d wake up days later, body aching with exertions he couldn’t remember, and be told how many he’d killed.

Good news: no fear of that either, apparently. Pitty wasn’t pulling for control anymore, so the green haze was all Jason’s own.

Joy.

He had a nasty feeling that Danny would notice him spiralling from anywhere in Gotham. And probably ditch class to come check on him.

Like Hell. Jason’d fucking call Harley first, put himself through some breathing exercises or whatever, he did not need an emotional support Ghost King.

He gave Frostbite a quick nod, a small smile forming almost without thinking about it. The yeti was just… so caring and helpful. Not exactly something Jason had a wealth of experience with. He’d probably be a great example for Pitty.

Frostbite returned the smile, making a quick note on his tablet.

“And of course, your ghostly parent or a mentor should also be able to assist you. Spending time with those who are important to you, especially a comforting figure will help both your control and your core formation,” the yeti added in a slightly pointed way, like he’d read Jason’s mind, and Jason had to stifle a laugh.

Frostbite might be an eight foot tall hairy yeti, but he’d get along with Alfred like a house on fire… he was even as stubborn about not using their names as Alfred was about nicknames.

And when Jason thought about someone comforting, the beacon of emotional maturity and constraint… it could only be Alfred. He was more grandparent than parent, but certainly the only mentor Jason still looked up to. And a paragon of control besides.

Alfred could help him with Pitty. Model a little actual emotional restraint and control for the both of them. The only question was if Jason could just be up front and ask him, possibly revealing the secret early, or if he’d have to come up with an excuse for them to hang out.

Stupid thought. Jason knew damn well he could just walk into the kitchen and Alfred would be more than happy to spend time together. He wouldn’t need a ruse; he wouldn’t even need an excuse.

The knowledge settled warm and soft and happy inside him, until his brain caught up with his ears and stopped him short.

Wait.

“Ghost parent?” He asked cautiously, looking from Frostbite to Danny again. Danny pulled a face but Frostbite beat him to the punch.

“Ah, yes. We did not discuss that last time either. Your ghost parent, young knight, is the second strongest bond a young ghost can have. They are the ghost who welcomes you into the Infinite Realms, who will guide your steps and protect you until your own haunt has formed.”

Brows furrowing, Jason twisted to frown more directly at Danny, not quite sure if he was looking for confirmation or asking a question of his own.

Cuz, y’know, other than the whole “protecting until his haunt formed” (and Jason certainly didn’t need protecting), that sounded a lot like what Danny had been doing. Which would totally make it weird if Jason was a knight to his own ghost-dad.

Clearly following the same lines, Danny raised both hands and shook his head, almost but not quite stepping out of reach.

“Oh no, it’s not me. You’ve had a ghost parent long before I came along,” he said emphatically, the sudden panic on his face making Jason feel better about his own response to surprise parenthood.

He magnanimously decided not to tease Danny about it, turning instead to give Frostbite a questioning look.

“Should I know who my ghost parent is? Who gets to decide?” He asked cautiously. He’d never met another ghost before Danny, but he had this awful sinking feeling that Ra’s al Ghul might have more to do with the realms than just the pits, and he was the closest proxy. Even Tallia would be better. Maybe even Bruce.

Reading his tension, Frostbite clapped a massive furry hand on Jason’s shoulder, smile and aura both full of comfort-reassurance-calm.

“Normally yes young knight, though yours is a special case. Usually when a young ghost first finds its way to the realms, one of the first ghosts they encounter will take them under their wing. It is an honour to care for a young ghost, and a halfa even more so,” he explained gently.

Beside Jason, Danny snorted loudly.

“Oh, yeah, they totally come running to play happy families. Super wholesome,” he grumbled, arms folded as he leaned back into Jason’s weight.

Honestly, Jason could kinda spot common threads between what Frostbite just said and what Danny had told him about Fight Club; the play fighting was supposed to be about sharing powers, right? Just, y’know, between people with shit verbal communication to actually check in that everyone was on the same page.

The yeti sighed fondly, his hand moving from Jason’s shoulder to rest proudly on Danny’s. Given the width of Danny’s shoulders respective to the hand, the last two fingers were back on Jason’s other shoulder.

“Again, Great One, your circumstances were also exceptional. You did not explore the Ghost Zone until after you had established yourself to many as a competent fighter and protector of your haunt, which along with certain… adventures led most to believe you were far older than you are,” Frostbite explained patiently, with just the faintest hint that they’d been through this before.

Danny rolled his eyes and shot Jason double finger guns.

“Yyyyup, which is why I don’t have to deal with any of this “ghost parent” business,” he agreed brightly, tipping Jason a smirk, “get good.”

Jason flipped him off, but there was something… not in his aura, Frostbite’s was still very carefully toned back all calm medical professional, but in the creasing of the yeti’s eyes. Now, ghost yetis were definitely a new species and Batman drilled them all on the dangers of extrapolating body language on new species, but Jason had done his time on alien planets.

Something in the change, something in the shift, a little quirk of the brow Jason had noted when the yeti was amused. There was something funny here, and it wasn’t Danny’s quip.

Putting his suspicions aside for now, Jason settled on the more pressing matter.

“So who is my ghost parent? When do I get to meet them?” He asked cautiously, still not entirely convinced he hadn’t accidentally imprinted on Ra’s or Tallia. Cuz he hadn’t been in the Zone before Danny either.

Danny himself, much less concerned, waved a hand vaguely.

“Oh, we’ll deal with that on the way home. Go do a proper meet and greet, that sort of thing,” he said nonchalantly, and Jason’s shoulders settled a little.

“They’re in the Zone then?” He prodded a little further, not fully willing to let the matter just drop. If he had to ghost-emancipate himself, he’d rather be ready sooner than later.

Danny grinned toothily at him.

“Usually. We’ll see if she’s around, but it might have to be another day. Gotta deal with our other list first, like if our whole halfa deal is gonna do anything to the knight thing, or your core coming in,” he added, looking expectantly at Frostbite.

Jason almost missed what he said next as his heart skipped a beat, a possibility he’d never even considered slamming home.

She.

Someone dead, if they were in the Ghost Zone.

Someone who’d claimed him as her son long ago, guided him as best she could. Someone he’d never expected to see again, not even having died and returned to life himself.

No chance, he told himself quickly, hurriedly refocusing on the conversation at hand. About his bond with Danny, about their shared fucked biology, about his whole undead future.

There was no point dredging up the past until he actually knew.

Frostbite was back in his familiar role of teacher, that same proud/warm/fond smile crinkling the corners of his eyes as he looked at Danny.

“For your bond, Great One, I am not sure what I would even test for. The young knight presently has no ghost form, yet the bond is present exactly as if he had. I am afraid we have no records of former halfas, so any problems which occurred before are long lost.”

The yeti gave the tablet another few careful claw strokes, pulling up lines and lines of scrolling numbers and data beside each of their silhouettes on the wall screen. Forcing himself to the present, Jason scanned them quickly.

Unsurprisingly, he couldn’t actually make heads or tails of it; ghost vitals couldn’t really include things like heartbeat, blood oxygenation, or anything they’d test for in the med bay.

Not until Bruce found out about all this crap anyway - Jason wouldn’t put it past him to try and buy out everything the Far Frozen had in his latest snit of paranoia. The second he got over his “oh no Jason is going somewhere I can’t supervise him”, obviously.

Frostbite clearly knew what it all meant though, highlighting a couple of different areas where Danny’s numbers were very different from Jason’s and giving him that reassuring smile.

“After your first transformation I would expect some of these to change, and it is likely that any differences in your particular bond would show then as well. Your ghost form will of course be entirely ectoplasmic, so the bond will be more present than it is even now.”

That snapped Jason from his internal flailing, and he grimaced at the reminder.

Because… yeah. They’d talked a lot about his first transformation, he and Danny. But the only thing Danny hadn’t really known was when to expect it.

“Yeah… about that. I know the basics, inversion of my moment of death crap, I’ll be able to change it eventually, yadda yadda,” and that was its own sword of Damacles hanging with the mistletoe, “but… when will it happen? Like, will it just… happen? Or will I… yeah.”

Even wording the question made him feel like the whole thing was just too complicated. He wasn’t even sure what he wanted to ask; what to look for? Would there be symptoms? Would he just un-die again in the street?

Luckily Frostbite seemed much more comfortable, hitting a few buttons on his tablet. Jason’s scan took over the full screen once more, zoomed in on the two orbs in his chest.

They were pulsing too, growing brighter and dimmer along with the more defined throb of the ectoplasm. Which was actually when he noticed that both cores were throbbing, so… was Pitty also a knight?

That was going on the list of questions for Clockwork like, yesterday. If he could get it its own little fear gun…

“As you can see, your core is still fuzzy around the edges and incompletely formed; once these edges have smoothed out, you will hypothetically be able to transform at any time,” Frostbite explained, blissfully aware of Jason’s new train of thought.

Probably for the best. Jason reluctantly refocused on the screen, tabling the idea of Sir Pitty for now. Nice to have something actually positive to look forward to.

He didn’t really remember seeing much of the screen during his last appointment, but he had seen the perfect sphere of Danny’s core, and his looked… well, like Frostbite said, smaller and kinda fuzzy. Like a ball of dough after it started sticking to your hands and losing its shape.

He frowned and nodded, looking back to Frostbite and then glancing around at Danny.

“So not until the next appointment, probably? Will it just… happen out of nowhere? Or will I need to trigger it?” It kinda helped, narrowing the scope. Dealing with it one step at a time.

Danny gave a helpless shrug.

“My powers started activating randomly, but I didn’t actually transform until I was in danger. Not like, life threatening danger,” he added with a roll of his eyes, like he’d heard Pitty’s growl… or maybe Jason had echoed it. “It was just Lunch Lady, she was never gonna really hurt us. She just made a mess and tried to feed everyone meat.”

Jason privately added Lunch Lady to his “asses to kick” list. On principle.

Frostbite gave a thoughtful nod, a large hand clapping down on Jason’s shoulder a lot harder than he’d probably intended. He didn’t flinch, but before his pit-growth-spurt it might have knocked him over.

“We can experiment more once your core is complete here in the Zone, and I would recommend waiting until Pitty has been expelled, if possible. Of course, any other changes in your knighthood bond will likely make themselves known with your first change as well,” the yeti mused, quite pleased with the idea.

Jason hesitated before agreeing, worry twisting through him again before he tamped it back down.

He wasn’t that scared little boy anymore; not inside. Besides, the bond was already firmly in place.

His soul was resonating a pace behind Danny’s.

It wasn’t like that little trip back to the moment of his death was gonna make Danny suddenly reject him.

The poor guy was probably stuck with Jason for life anyway at this point, which for a pair of halfas meant pretty much forever.

There was not a single thing on Earth or the Watchtower that he wanted less than to stop and talk to John Fucking Constantine and Diana after the meeting.

To be completely fair, Constantine clearly didn’t want to have that conversation any more either; Bruce had not been wrong about how well the magician would take the news that the United States had declared war on an entire dimension.

He was visibly green, had actually ground an unlit cigarette into a grainy mess against the table in lieu of lighting up, and looked about ready to lick up the tobacco.

Diana did not look happy either, but she never had. Her face was as stony and grave as Bruce had ever seen it, concern writ large even as she caught his eye.

The sure knowledge that her lasso would follow if he tried to leave was the only thing that kept him from ignoring her.

But since the only thing he wanted in the world at this moment was to have his son in his arms, and there was no chance of that happening until they were in the same dimension once more…

Bruce shot a quick, questioning look at Clark as the traitor made his way to the exit along with the rest of the Justice League. The Kryptonian at least had the grace to look a little guilty as he shook his head, stepping quickly out the door.

Wonder Woman hadn’t specifically told everyone else to get the fuck out. She had simply molded herself into an immovable force, concluded the meeting, and instructed Bruce alone to remain and discuss these… complications.

Bruce considered making an argument for Superman’s inclusion. They were the original three, and they’d probably need at least his and Aquaman’s help to handle the diplomatic situation.

Possibly the Oa, and Bruce was quite sure Green Lantern wasn’t looking forward to that possibility any more than he was. Hal Jordan talked a good game, always far too flippant, but he’d been pale enough by the end of the lecture that his suit made him look frankly unwell.

Unpleasant times would be in all of their futures it seemed. It was no real comfort as he slipped into a seat across from Wonder Woman and the slumped form of John Constantine.

The magician didn’t even look up, but clearly noticed.

“Didn’t fuckin’ think anyone’d fuck this up worse’n you, Bats,” he groaned, face still pressed into the table.

Bruce grunted, uninterested in his judgement.

“There are new complications we should focus on.” A vain hope, and one Diana instantly crushed.

“One that makes the contents of our discussion all the more vital,” she corrected sharply, piercing blue eyes narrowed as she watched his face. “It seems we have already caused unintentional offence.”

Which was an extremely light way to phrase the declared genocide, but Bruce didn’t bother arguing that position. Not when Constantine would do it for him.

But the mage just let out a long, hearty groan.

“Offence. Yeah. Maybe if we saw off the United States and toss it through a portal the rest of us will be fine,” he snarked, raising his head just enough to bang it off the table. Repeatedly.

By the third bang Diana gripped the back of his head, holding him in place against the table.

“Whatever the situation,” she growled, her tone daring either of them to comment, “we must deal with it as it is. You believe we would have noticed any countermeasures from the former Ghost King?”

She released her grip a moment later, and Constantine rolled his head just enough to glare at her through one eye.

“Pariah Dark? Sister, it wouldn’ta been a single town bein’ pulled off the map. We’d have lost the continent, and probably the world. You wouldn’t miss it,” he added with a bitter laugh, clearly considering banging his head off the table again.

Diana placed a hand on the table. Constantine set his head back down gently.

“And the new king?” She prodded, all icy control.

Bruce had to admit, even he felt calmer watching her.

He knew all the follies and foibles of gods, had no delusions about the limits of her power. He also knew her strengths. Her wisdom. Her ability to cut through complex issues with sword or words.

Whatever he missed, she was removed enough from this mess to catch.

Constantine shrugged, still not rising.

“No fuckin’ clue. All I know is they’re better’n Pariah, which is the lowest damn bar I ever saw. They call them Balance, and we’re not gonna fuckin’ like when the scales come due.”

Bruce’s brows furrowed. What could be a sufficient counterweight for demanding a whole people be hunted and experimented on until extinction?

The dead always vastly outnumbered the living.

Diana cut across his thoughts, her tone as sharp as her blade.

“So you believe we’d notice.”

Constantine sighed heavily and flopped back in his seat hard enough that he nearly toppled over. Diana steadied the chair with one hand, eyebrow rising archly.

Constantine stopped flailing, went to fold his arms, and instead stuffed his hands in his pockets.

“Probably’d be pretty hard to miss too,” he agreed gruffly. Diana nodded, having received the answer she wanted, and interlaced her fingers.

“Then we have time to rectify matters before word reaches his ears.” She paused, brow furrowing as she recounted John’s words. “Do we not know if the King is a man?”

Constantine shrugged again, pulling something unidentifiable from his pocket before hastily shoving it back in, coming out again with a lighter. He spun it between his fingers, eyes fixed on the metal lid.

“Nah. “King” is just a loose translation to living tongues, for what yer used to. Easier to say than “Supreme High Ruler, Core of the Realms”. Not even likely that they were ever human; not even the Ancients could take Pariah solo to take the crown, so a human ghost wouldn’t stand a chance.”

Huffing out a mighty breath, Constantine looked from the lighter to Bruce, his gaze somehow immeasurably more tired. Bruce had imagined that talking about Amity Park made the man look ancient.

He looked haggard enough to be an ancient ghost himself now.

Raising his other hand, he began counting off points on his fingers.

“We know they’re young. Everything agrees on that. Could be any time in the past few centuries, but it’s still a timeline. We know they’re tougher’n Hell and all its demons put together, cuz they put Pariah down single handed. Had to to get the throne. Might not have Ended him, the Casket of Eternal Slumber’s not turned up looking for a new occupant.”

The magician stared at his two fingers for a moment, then sighed and raised a third.

“And we know ghosts like them. They’re less scared, though most of ‘em never knew shit about Pariah. Didn’t even react to him waking, which had to happen for the change in power. That or it all went down too fast for the shockwaves to reach us here; not bloody likely. Wouldn’t take more than a day, and ghosts fight for decades on a whim.”

He hesitated for a moment, considering that last finger. Finally he sighed and shook his head.

“Can’t rule it out though. Pariah waking up’d be as much an emergency for them as it’d be for us, putting his ass back down is an all hands on deck situation on either side of the veil. If this new king is Balance, Pariah’d be their opposite,” he finished gruffly, glaring at all three digits before stuffing both hands into his pockets.

Bruce nodded, drawing a deep, calming breath in through his nose and then out through his mouth. Even this much discussion had something itching in the back of his mind, a building tension that he had to Get Away.

He was in control of it though. Could tell the difference between his own unease and the burning ember of the oath.

Turn and run right away his ass. Magic could never hold out against cool, calm logic.

“And this new king, Balance, has stamped a damn mark on Jason.”

And his breath hitched.

Sharp, white hot panic flared behind his eyes, every muscle clenching with the effort of not leaping straight from the table. The only reason he didn’t was because he had no idea where to go.

What would he even do? Run to Jason’s side? The boy was in another dimension, far beyond Bruce’s reach.

Again.

He was losing Jason again. Losing him to this Ghost King, this Balance, this-

Diana’s hand clamped firmly over his, the amazon’s grip immovable steel. Bruce felt his bones grinding together before he even noticed he’d stopped breathing, before he managed to look up enough to meet her eyes.

Stern, determined, brilliant blue locked with his. Her grip tightened a little further, the ribbing on his gloves creaking with the pressure.

She wouldn’t break them… probably. They were designed to hold up against any of the supers the League dealt with. Prolonged contact was another thing entirely though.

His attention now locked on her face, Bruce managed a deep breath in along with her. Held it when she did. Let it out.

She didn’t release him for another few repetitions, until he was breathing mostly on his own again. Then she returned her attention to Constantine.

“What.” It wasn’t aggressive. Just a completely flat, completely toneless statement.

Constantine gave her an entirely hopeless smile, pulling his hands from his pockets to give her jazz hands.

“And that’s what he’s not ready to hear yet. Your boy, Jason, Red Hood, has gotten himself personally warded by the Ghost King. He’s the next thing to invulnerable right now,” he added bitterly, as if that made any of it better.

An icy hand clenched in Bruce’s chest again, but he forced himself to still. To breathe through it. To not turn and run, run until he found his child and tore him away from whatever influence had him.

The Ghost King had a hold of Jason. Jason who’d all but ordered Bruce to let him go.

“And Jason must have been in direct contact with the King to receive these wards?” Diana asked sharply, and Bruce’s head snapped back to her.

It was a good question. Important, obvious, there was a connection there that he should be making, but he couldn’t think. His head was spinning, heart pounding, and every shadow seemed black as pitch.

Constantine grunted an agreement, shooting Bruce an almost sympathetic look.

Could. Could this be the oath? Not his own instinctive, natural panic?

Bruce couldn’t tell, he’d been so afraid for so long, ever since he held Jason’s broken body in his arms. Ever since he buried his son.

It felt the same. But he had mastered that fear long ago, so this would not control him now. He had to be better.

Frowning at Diana, he leaned forward.

“Explain.” She’d probably assumed that he’d made the same connection. He probably should have.

There was just a brief flash of surprise on her face before her expression softened, her hand gentling over his.

“Jason was the one who told you of these Anti Ecto Acts, was he not?” She asked pointedly, a dark brow arching delicately.

Bruce about managed a grunt of agreement, his jaw clenched too tightly to speak. She waited a moment longer, watching his face, and then sighed.

“Then is it not likely that either he has told Balance of these Acts, or that Balance was the one that told him?”

Constantine jerked and got halfway through a bellowed curse before she cut him off with a glare. Her tone brooked no argument as she continued with a firm, frosted patience.

“Jason is a principled young man, even if not of the exact principles you prefer. Either he has warned you because he believes we have time to fix this, or because the King would prefer we handle it,” she said bluntly.

It sounded so simple, put like that. Far too simple. Bruce shook his head, leaning in.

“We can’t know for sure-”

“Batman.” There was nothing harsh in her tone. Nothing so overtly aggressive as the glare she kept giving Constantine. Just a calm, cool statement that sucked the air from his lungs.

The weight of her own mantle, the Amazon princess who would one day be Queen. Not his friend Diana; Wonder Woman.

Once she was sure he wouldn’t continue, she fixed him with a sapphire stare.

“Do you believe Jason Todd would condone the end of the world?” She asked simply, and that at least was that plain.

“No.” It didn’t even require thought; whatever he feared ever since his son took his first life, Bruce knew that.

Jason was fundamentally a good boy. So kind, so giving, ironically he had been the most well adjusted boy Bruce had ever given the mantle to.

Which was what made what he’d become so painful. It was everything he never should have been.

Wonder Woman nodded as if that solved all the rest.

“And yet you called the meeting, not him. He has known for several days already and did nothing to alert any of us. Therefore, he does not believe this is an urgent threat.”

It sounded good, and Bruce almost believed it before Constantine snorted.

“Yeah, great, except the kid has no fuckin’ clue what he’s dealing with. Didn’t even know he’d been fuckin’ marked or that sellin’ his fuckin’ service was the dumbest fuckin’ thing he coulda done,” he grumbled and Bruce’s heart fell.

Wonder Woman was not so easily swayed. She raised an eyebrow slowly at the magician.

“And could those protective marks have been placed on Jason against his will?” She asked pointedly, like she knew the first thing about magic.

Constantine hesitated. Frowned a little, thinking hard. Finally he threw both hands in the air and leaned back in his chair, scrubbing them down his face.

“Technically, yes, alright? But I can’t think of a damn reason why they’d bother. Like I told the old Bat, it’s technically a good thing; I couldn’t even get a basic diagnostic spell off, he’s completely fuckin’ magic proof an’ anythin’ that can read that ward will run like fuck.”

Something in Bruce’s chest flickered hopefully. Wonder Woman nodded firmly, then redirected her stare to him.

“Then until we have reason not to, we assume that Jason Todd has control of this situation. He has assigned us to deal with these Acts, either before his king discovers them or on their behalf. You, Batman, will defer to his experience along with that of our experts,” she declared with all the ringing command she was capable of.

It chafed. And yet… he could hear the echo of Harley’s words in her voice.

What if Jason was wrong? It was the kind of thing he always thought about, the kind of thing he couldn’t stop thinking about. The kind of thing that had the Batman able to stand and go toe to toe with gods.

But what if Jason was right? What if Harley, Diana, Constantine were right, and his usual measures would spell disaster?

He had a dozen contingency plans that any member of the League could use to take him down. He was painfully aware that the first one, the one he’d already shown to Superman and Wonder Woman, only had two words in it.

Diana’s Judgement.

She hadn’t technically invoked it yet. Had never bothered asking exactly what he meant by it; she wasn’t one to back down from hard subjects, which meant she’d also never bothered hiding how little she thought of his contingency plans.

His League-specific ones, anyway. She liked the ones he had for the rogues and various end of the world crises.

It meant moments like this, where she would give him her honest, simple judgement and reign him in.

(Technically it also meant that he trusted her to decide when she needed to snap his neck, but Martian Manhunter always looked at him with disappointment when he thought about that side too much.)

Looking back to her face, he managed to meet her eyes and nod once. It went against every instinct he had, every year of experience and loss, but…

If he couldn’t do things he didn’t like, he’d never have become Batman.

Head spinning with a plethora of new information, bag of ecto candies in hand, Jason deliberately slowed down to let Danny precede him out of Frostbite’s office.

That little suspicion had been growing, kindling the more they discussed halfa anatomy and bonds, and honestly? Yes, he had been using it as an excuse to think about something other than his own problems.

Danny seemed not to notice, disappearing past the doorway as Jason looked up at Frostbite. Figured fuck it; he didn’t know how much time he had. Best be blunt.

“You’re Danny’s ghost parent, aren’t you?” He asked, knowing from the yeti’s face as he did that he was right.

The way it froze for just a moment, eyes flicking to the door Danny had just left through. Then the smile that spread, knowing and secretive as he bent down for the first time to put his face on Jason’s level.

“He takes such pleasure in believing he does not have one; the Great One values his independence highly, and his history with parental figures is… complex. It can be our secret, yes?” The yeti winked.

Jason hesitated for a moment, thinking back to all he knew about Danny’s home life. It wasn’t actually all that much; Danny probably actually knew more about Jason’s, after the last week.

That wasn’t just a rarity, it was practically unheard of for any of the former Robins, and Jason knew exactly how Dick and Harley would react to that information.

They’d accuse him of growth. Gross. They couldn’t be told.

And yeah, maybe Jason had a bit of a personal understanding of why Danny wouldn’t want an overabundance of parental figures around. Their situations weren’t exactly the same, not really, but Jason knew enough verses of the song.

All teen heroes tended to have certain things in common, the biggest of which was whatever parental figure they had failing to protect them. Failing to keep them from the darkness, forcing a kid to take on a mantle and burdens that they never should have.

He’d wanted to pound Bruce’s bones to pulp for putting another kid in his cape. Wound up nearly pounding Tim’s instead, however the pit and Tallia had twisted things to make that seem like the same thing.

And Danny hadn’t just picked up the mantle of Teen Hero. He’d picked up a crown, a whole realm of responsibilities and rulership over the dead.

Personally, Jason thought Danny was missing out on an easy dodge of king duties by not finding his ghost parent; Clockwork was his regent but still apparently bothered him for work.

A parent ruling until the child was of age was behind most of the most brutal regicides in any monarchic system; the dead had to know about it.

But that’d mean Clockwork bothering Frostbite at all hours, possibly. Or Clockwork finding new excuses to keep checking on a crown prince Jason had already seen was a handful.

Yeah, he could see why no one really challenged Danny’s assertion that he didn’t have a ghost parent.

Jason spared a moment wondering about his own again.

He knew better than to hope, he really did. Catherine Todd deserved much better than an afterlife of watching over his many mistakes. If there was any justice to death, she’d moved straight past the realms and into the most perfect of paradises.

He liked to think she’d be proud of him. Of the work he’d done, the good he’d spread through the Alley even if it was on the end of a gun.

So long as it wasn’t any form of al Ghul whatsoever, Jason was pretty sure he could handle any other ghost parent the multiverse could throw at him.

Danny’s head poked back around the corner, grinning in a very worried way between the two of them.

“Everything okay back here?” He asked with some of the worst overhyped cheer Jason had ever heard.

Alright, maybe Danny would actually also have been a problem for ghost parent. Because Jason thought he was hot. Because he was an awful mother hen even as a friend.

Jason raised his bag of ecto candies.

“Just checking how many of these I can safely have in a day,” he said innocently, and kinda hoped Danny didn’t actually feel the wash of Frostbite’s approval as the yeti straightened.

That would give the game away.

“They are not a substitute for sleep or nutrition for your human form,” Frostbite told him, as if that was what they’d been talking about.

Jason sighed heavily, doing his best impression of Tim being handed decaf.

“Listen, a guy can hope?”

“Oh you’re not gonna win that one,” Danny snickered, brightening with the distraction and all but skipping in to take Jason’s arm, “let’s scram before he gets the powerpoints.”

Frostbite gave them a cheerful wave on the way out the door, and Jason managed a mostly sincere smile as Danny began regaling him on some of his teenaged attempts to persuade Frostbite to let him give up sleep for finals week.

Yeah, he might add the Fenton parents to the butt-kicking list. Below the ghosts, obviously, for whom butt-kicking was a social courtesy.

But, y’know. If he ever got the chance to have a quiet word about taking care of your damn kids.

———————

And here we have Part 1! Imma just yeet it up so you can all get started while I edit Part 2, because again, this is a Girthy One without an easier breakpoint 👀

I’ll still try and get Part 2 done tonight, but I’ve kept y’all waiting long enough

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Part Two:

#dp x dc #dpxdc #dc x dp #dcxdp #danny fenton dead and loving it #chapter 17 i bet #well you did get down on one knee #dead on main ship #danny x jason #slowest burn we burn so slow it looks like rust

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