#Chas tactics

[zappedbyzabka]

[jetii-mando]

Do you think after learning about dancing that clones used dance moves on the battlefield? Like they just bust out some wonky ass dance move to like dodge or take down an enemy. Okay like this is what I was picturing: Fives dodging shots whilst loudly singing “Slide to the left! Slide to the right! Crisscross! Crisscross! Cha cha real smooth!” And somehow it’s a valid battle strategy. Ahsoka is so proud of him. (Obi-Wan recommends breakdancing as a less holonet oriented alternative that could actually help with their hand to hand. Anakin for once has the bright idea to recommend ballet - I mean hey! They move so much and jump so much it will probably help dodging on teh field! - it becomes less great when an entire squad comes back traumatized from talking a full day class, poor lads thought dancing would be easy compared to combat training. They were wrong.)

[lovelesslittleloser]

A party of lawful evil clerics is just a cult

[holyprincenerd]

yes yes rigged this cha cha that but please let’s not ignore this right now:

https://www.aftonbladet.se/podcasts/ab/episode/355975 Swedish “eurovision expert” Tobbe Ek (for those of you who aren’t Swedish, this is the same guy who accused Måneskin of doing coke on live tv back in 2021) and his posse of minions decided that it was time to spread some absolutely hateful rhetoric against the people of Finland by calling them shitty, idiotic, telling them they should be ashamed of not voting for Sweden (??? literally what???) etc etc, while also dragging in other contestants like Lord of the Lost and insulting them as a means of questioning why the Finnish public voted for them but not for Sweden. (You know. Because it totally doesn’t make any sense at all that a country known for having the most metal bands per capita in the world would vote for Lord of the Lost. Not at all.) 

As the cherry on top of this xenophobic shit cake, they started to go on about how “There’s no way there were ten contestants who were better than Sweden this year.” (Again. Not only disrespecting the other contestants, but them pretending not to grasp the concept of a country known for preferring heavier music choosing to vote mostly for bands this year... Yeah... Couldn’t be their preferences...)

Again, this man is considered a Eurovision expert here in Sweden, yet this is the type of behaviour he and his coworkers display over a nonissue like the Finnish public not voting for Sweden this year. If there’s something shameful here, it’s this.

To reiterate: These are three grown-ass well past 40-year old people having a genuine meltdown over one (1) singular country not voting for them.

Why are we giving Tobbe Ek (and his irrelevant coworkers) a platform, again?

EDIT:

Hoo boy, there’s more. Because of course there is.

ALRIGHT here’s an article from one of our tabloids using quite suspiciously colonialistic sounding rhetoric about Finland being “the kingdom’s previous eastern half”.

https://www.expressen.se/noje/finska-sveket-mot-sverige-gav-noll-poang-efter-uppmaningen-rosta-taktiskt/

The specific quote in Swedish: “Tv-tittarna i tidigare östra rikshalvan gav nämligen Sverige noll(!) poäng under Eurovisionfinalen på lördagen.”

Translation: “TV viewers in [our] kingdom’s previous eastern half gave namely zero(!) points to Sweden during the Eurovision finale on Saturday.”

Yeah, Johan Bratell (the writer of the article) is technically not wrong about Finland having been a part of Sweden. But why bring this up now? This was so clearly meant as a condescending insult.

The article also talks about a throwaway comment that the Finnish commentator Mikko Silvennoinen made about tactical voting (or more specifically, an anonymous comment he read out loud about tactical voting). From my understanding this was a joke reference to the previous elections which took place recently in Finland and forced a portion of the Finnish public to vote tactically as an attempt to block a far-right party from getting into the parliament. It’s embarrassing how much these people are reaching.

And even if they were voting tactically, so what? Sweden won. Why are we so focused on the public vote of one (1) country, Jesus Christ this is embarrassing.

EDIT 2: WHY THIS MATTERS. A LOT.

For those of you who are not in the know about Swedish politics, these statements are reflecting some far-right political views that have their roots all the way back in the times when Sweden ruled over Finland. In recent memory, our far-right political party Sverigedemokraterna claimed that the Swedish minority group Tornedalians are not Swedish, because they may speak local dialects that blend Finnish into Swedish, or speak the minority language Meänkieli. Coincidentally, Meänkieli just so happens to be a minority language that blends Finnish and Swedish, as it is mostly spoken by people who live by the Torneå river, i.e. the Finnish-Swedish border. Here’s an article about this controversy (however you may not be able to read it unless you’re subscribed to said newspaper): https://www.dn.se/asikt/orimligt-att-tornedalingar-inte-skulle-vara-svenskar/?fbclid=IwAR33K_UVRhXlJhyPd3gY7GDXN_lotUdrtM1AeL-nRzWE26Tmq5BFE0lIUzw

Sverigedemokraterna also believe that the Swedish minority group of Sweden Finns should essentially cut their ties to their Finnish roots and that they should not be able to be citizens of both Finland and Sweden. https://aip.nu/sverigedemokraterna-och-de-dubbla-medborgarskapen/

This sort of rhetoric is ridiculously common here, and in situations like the ones that have occurred in light of the ESC, they almost never get called out. Because it’s common. Because it’s okay to call Finnish people names and to use colonial rhetoric against all Finns, both those who live in Finland and those who live in Sweden. Because this is “friendly banter.” Mind you, as someone who technically belongs to both of the aforementioned minority groups I’m completely fine with the actually friendly banter and piss taking that we usually partake in, because it is just that. Friendly. But this is not it. This is actually harmful. I have never seen so many Swedish people attacking Finns on social media as I’ve seen these past few days. The usual colonialistic and fennophobic insults have started to rear their ugly heads: People have started to insult the Finnish language (a fennophobic sentiment that goes way back to the days when Finland was under Swedish rule and the Swedish tried to get rid of the language), they have started to insult the way Finns look (goes back to fennophobic rhetoric of Finns essentially not being “white enough”), etcetera. For more information on how the Swedish government treated the Sweden Finns and Tornedalians (the fact that they tried to abolish both the Meänkieli language and the Finnish language from Sweden and have even done skull measurements as an attempt to prove that these minority groups are not equal to Swedes), here’s another article: https://www.svt.se/nyheter/lokalt/norrbotten/regeringen-tillsatter-sanningskommission

For those of you who speak Finnish and are interested in the topic, the book Kansankodin pimeämpi puoli by Tapio Tamminen goes into both issues, with photographic evidence of skull measurement incidents among other things. Meanwhile, the Finnish media is mostly just reporting on the tomfoolery of these “journalists.” Sure, there are a lot of Finns who are acting out as well and spreading hateful rhetoric against Swedes, but the difference here is that one group is punching up, while the other is punching down.

Whether Tobbe Ek, Jenny Ågren, Markus Larsson and Johan Bratell meant to cause this does not matter. They’ve still done it, in the case of the former group, they’ve even dragged other Europeans (and Australians!) into this mess.

They’ve gone ahead and spread fennophobic rhetoric on huge platforms: Sweden’s biggest national tabloids. They should be held accountable for this.

To reiterate: ALL THIS OVER THE FINNISH PUBLIC “NOT VOTING FOR SWEDEN” DURING THE EUROVISION SONG CONTEST OF 2023.

Edit 3: Just in case we need a bit of clarification:

I know this whole post may come across quite negatively. So let me make this clear: There is an issue with the Swedish culture and its normalisation of fennophobia, however, that doesn’t mean every Swede is maliciously fennophobic. It’s literally just so normalised here, that sometimes people don’t even notice when they’re partaking in it, and because of said normalisation, for many these fennophobic and colonialist insults have become a sort of knee jerk reaction to when there’s “actual beef” with Finland. (Which, obviously, is a fucking problem, because look who has to bear the brunt of that.) 

Moreover, many Swedes aren’t even familiar with their shared history with Finland, and the discrimination Finland was put through during the Swedish rule (not to mention the discrimination the Sweden Finns and Tornedalians have had to face and still face). That part of our shared history simply isn’t taught in schools here, so a regular person would have to know to go out and look for the information. Heck, the only reason I’m aware of this is because at the end of the day, despite having been born and raised in Sweden, I am ethnically Finnish, and grew up by the border with very strong ties to the Finnish culture because of it. But less about me, and more about this issue. Most Swedes (and Swedish journalists who have any sort of sense in them and who work for respectable publications) have expressed their dissatisfaction with this years results as well. There’s a reason Cha Cha Cha is charting so well on Swedish Spotify. There’s a reason for why the Swedish jury and the public gave Finland 12 points.

So, Tl;dr:

1. Swedish tabloids are trash.

2. We have an undeniable problem with how normalised fennophobia is here, and it’s absolutely bizarre that this is how it’s getting exposed.

3. Most regular Swedes aren’t happy with this either, and are in fact not Finland’s and the Finnish people’s greatest haters in the world.

4. Tobbe Ek should get fired. At the bare minimun, he and his coworkers should probably issue some sort of apology for spreading this, seeing how it is actually hurting a lot of people.

Anyway, please don’t hate on the Swedes because of this lol, think about what Jere from Vantaa would think about that. 💚

[triannel]

What if Reader tried to make Bill see his wrong doings, fail and and decide he's not worth their time so they try to leave them - but oh would you look at that - he fell in love and won't let you go (could be a yandere, idk if you write yan so doesnt have to be) have a nice day!

I've been getting frequent requests of angst fics, and lately I don't think I have written anything that ended on a sour note, so here, I will appreciate comments tbh, (just make sure to stay respectful plz.).

When you decided to leave him, it wouldn't really affect him...well at least that's what he tells himself. You were just a speed bump in his perspective, who are you to tell him what to do?

He knew what you were doing right from the start, you really thought you could change him? Well ...maybe you did. Something inside him did manage to grow fond of you, he actually did manage to catch something else than the feeling of amusement when you were around.

However, to him it doesn't really matter. He's a bad person, it was only a matter of time till you gave up, and honestly good riddance. He never needed you. You never needed him. You were never of use, your sweet, sweet aura can go elsewhere, even though he could have used you for something, but you'd never let him anyways, so goodbye...

Even as he does convince himself, deep inside he does somewhat miss you, your compassion and kindness was actually been quite...nice to have. He felt, safe when he was around you, you made him feel very comfortable on rare occasions and well, let's just say that only a very few number of people has been able to do that.

But still, 'good riddance' he says in his mind, at least the meddling feelings he might have for you will fizzle out, it was only but a distraction anyways...

Well, perhaps it does somewhat matter, but will he do anything though? To gain back your favor, convince you to comeback? Well, it depends.

He'd most likely turn away if he deems that you simply are a lost cause. He supposes, why should he go after you? You aren't essential to his plans, although he might-...

Nevertheless, he most likely won't do anything, to him you are just one less of a 'problem' to deal with.

Losing you will still most likely slightly sting him though, he would never admit it but you might have been one of the best person he'll ever get to even have a bond with.

If he does get desperate enough, like you somehow truly did make a very strong impact on him that it managed to really do get his full attention, then yes, he will not let you go. In resemblance of a flower yearning the sun, he will do what it takes to get you back.

Right after you decdied to just leave him be, he will notice your lack of visits and attention on him, and it will bother him. So turning back to you, he will try his best to shower you with affection, essentially using tactics to manipulate and attract you to return.

"HEY, SUNSHINE! YOU'RE BEING OVERDRAMATIC DON'T CHA THINK?" Bill spoke, appearing more charming than ever as he gazes up at you.

"COME ON TOOTS, ARE YOU REALLY GOING TO LEAVE ME JUST BECAUSE OF SOME SIMPLE REASON! C'MON SUNSHINE, I PROMISE I'LL CHANGE, JUST FOR YOU," he spoke, lifting your chin up with his index finger as he floated beyond your height.

Releasing a sigh, you move your head to the side to remove his hand from touching your face. You've heard this before, you knew where this is headed.

"Bill... I know you're lying." You spoke, your sweet voice leaving a bitter taste to Bill.

"Darling... I promise, I really will change..." He spoke, in a softer tone, slowly floating lower to reach your exact height as he held your face.

"Bill just stop..." You spoke softly, your eyes looking away as you stepped back. Nononono NO! You're not supposed to say that.

As you stepped back, Bill felt a sharp sting on his chest. "Sunshine..." He spoke, his hand slightly clenching as it dropped. Floating closer, his desperation grows stronger.

"This is for the best okay...I'm sorry." Taking another step back, you gave him one last gaze, and for a moment you did want to go back, to hug him and tell him you were only kidding. But forcing yourself to look away, you drag your body to move.

"YOU'LL REGRET THIS! COME ON, JOIN ME! YOU'LL GET THE BEST EXPERIENCE ANYONE WOULD EVER HAVE!" He shouted at your direction, floating fast towards you to get in your way.

"Bill...stop." Sternly, you stood your ground, your voice finally dropping to a demanding tone. "This...this is for the best okay..."

Once more exhaling a sigh, you bid him farewell and disappear.

Still staring to where you were standing, the sharp stinging on his chest now felt like a gunshot as your voice echoes in his mind.

As silence quickly settles in, he spoke your name for the first time, his heart torn in half, "(Your Name)..?"

Next

I'm not exactly the best at writing angst but I hope I still did good, take note that this happened in your dream, and Bill joined you just because. So he could not exactly overpower you when the conversation happened.

[wisteriaiswriting]

Soldier and Medic dating a short feisty reader

Short and Feisty S/O

Words: 734

Swearing: 1 in Soldier | 2 in Medic.

This motherfucker only enables and encourages anything you do.

He’s also considered one of the more ‘feisty’ mercs. (He’s not very short though.)

So he’s always more than willing to join you on anything you do.

You’re now never able to go anywhere alone. (Could be him or one of his raccoons.)

Whenever you two are in battle he’ll try to stay near you, but can never guarantee it.

Isn’t someone who will purposely tease you about your height.

While he does occasionally make remarks he doesn’t even realise he does.

Likely you’ll just climb onto something if you can’t reach, so he’ll stand back, announce his appearance but only watch in case.

If you ask though he will grab you the needed item.

Quickly enough into the relationship he gave you your own helmet. (Your initials are carved on the inside.)

Also given a title. (You’re now Captain, no fighting him on this.)

He’s the type of guy to just throw you over his shoulder.

Nothing is making him drop you. (Maybe, just maybe if Demoman asked.)

***

“UH, SOLLY!”

Hearing his name yelled from down the hall, he swiftly poked around the corner. Finding Engnieer looking worried as he looked around, jumping when he noticed the familiar helmet looking back at him.

“We kinda need your help out ‘ere.”

“WHAT’S WRONG MAGGOT?”

Engineer scratched his chin for a few seconds before opening his mouth, only to be cut off by the door next to him –which led outside– being slammed open. Missing him by mere inches, and the person that came through was, unknowingly to him, the cause of this problem. You.

In your tightly grasped hand, was a hat. Specifically Sniper’s. Not sparing a glance back at Dell as you saw Jane. Rushing off and away from the door just in time for Mick to rush through, unable to grab you as you moved. Only now did Jane realize what was happening.

Standing taller as you successfully got away, taking your spot right behind him. Peering out to see Mick sigh, hunched over as he walked away. So did Engineer, not before he gave the last words.

“Just make sure it gets returned in the same condition.”

He will actually encourage you from time to time.

It’s the fact he still needs time away from… you and everything you're doing.

He’s more ‘feral’ than feisty on the field. (Also off the field, when doing his medical things… Even you stay away from all that.)

Is 100% a teaser.

This fucker won’t shut up about everything, especially your height and specifically the height difference.

Internally panics if he ever catches you climbing on things.

He’ll rush over to pull you off (Most times he puts you down, but now always.) before grabbing the thing himself.

Majority of the time Archimedes will stay away from you. (Whether Medic says so or not, who knows?)

Climb this bitch.

He will freeze in his steps and shut down, a great tactic if he’s teasing you.

Will never stop thinking about it until he dies. (But even being in hell doesn’t stop him.)

Has offered to increase your height by… some sort of means alright. (Many times mind you.)

Gained the habit of just grabbing you, by one of two ways. Either like a cat, holding you so he’s out of reach. Or under his arm, where he has gotten stratched.

Has and will speak German to you, especially if you don’t understand it. He enjoy’s watching you become more and more riled up over it.

***

Anyone who walked near Medic’s office could only hear noises, all of which shouldn’t be happening in any medical office. But unless they took a look in they could only guess who was messing about, with those guesses being you bothering Medic.

He could focus with all the ruckus you were making, seemingly interested in the most basic objects in the room. All before dropping them not where they belonged. Cupping his face in his hands as he muttered something, which you could only assume was about you. Unaware of you hearing him and now interested in his words.

“What ‘cha just say?”

“Sie sind unausstehlich…”

Hearing you huff in response to his words.

“Fine, if you won’t tell me I’ll ask someone else!” Medic only looked up when he heard his office door shut and the faint shouting of, “HEAVY!”

***

Sie sind unausstehlich - You are obnoxious

[lexsssu]

GIRL OMG SERIOUS QUESTION,

CAN YOU PLEASE PLEASE PLEASEEE WRITE ANYTHING ABOUT DESIGNATED BULLY X READER, I SWEAR THAT WEBTOON HAS ABSOLUTE NO FANFICS 😭😭😭😭🙏🙏🙏

TAGS: Bae Yeowool/F!reader, size difference, size kink, smut, drabble Ao3 ver. | Ko-fi | Commissions (OPEN)

Oh Chunsim is your best friend, and perhaps your only real friend in the women’s university you both attended. She was the more outspoken one between the two of you, unwilling to cower beneath the intimidation tactics used by other students who had nothing better to do with their time than make power plays.

Considering which high school she graduated from, it’s not surprising that she’s made of stronger stuff. However, you should have also made the connection

What does come as a total shock is when you were about to go eat some barbecue after your grueling midterms, a behemoth of a man met you both at the campus gates. 

You’re not blind to the fascinated stares and whispers of the other students, regardless if they were single or not, because he really was quite the sight.

Bae Yeowool towered over most, if not everyone in the area, and the way his muscles seemed to strain against the fabric of his shirt was already eye-catching enough.

“Ah, you must be the friend Chunsim’s been talking about lately! I’m Bae Yeowool, it’s nice to meet ‘cha!” 

He felt like a giant, silver-coated golden retriever trapped in a man’s body when he took your hand in his and shook it. For a moment, you’re utterly mesmerized by how even just one hand of his seemed to be able to engulf both of yours.

Chunsim watched her two closest friends with a calculating gleam in her eyes as her smile widened until it reached ear to ear.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bae Yeowool can’t get enough of seeing how much smaller you are compared to him. From the moment Chunsim introduced you both to just before you made your vows by the altar, all he could see from the moment he closed his eyes is your body writhing so beautifully for him.

He’s addicted to feeling your soft, and supple flesh beneath the rough pads of his fingers whenever he caresses your body.

He’s obsessed with the sight of your face reddened with a deep blush as your eyes practically roll to the back of your head whenever he hits that special spot inside you with the tip of his cock. 

Considering how he so easily towered over you, it’s all too easy for him to reach places your own fingers could never reach. Whether it’s his own digits or his dick, the way you clench around him so tightly has Yeowool salivating either way.

“Leave as many marks on me as you want, baby. All this is for you…~” 

[arafilez]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ▰ ▰ ✶ WØRLD EPISØDE FIN: WILL ⪨

ㅤㅤ➛ ㅤiv.ㅤ ARRIBA 𒉽 kang yeosang❛ 𓇿

🥂̸̤ㅤㅤMDNI smut e2lㅤ ✸ㅤyou are sick and tired of this mission but you will do it, you will kill himㅤㅤ───ㅤㅤ w: weapon usage, blood, extreme injuries, sex ㅤㅤ»ㅤㅤ wc: 4.5kㅤㅤ𠈔ㅤㅤ moodboard

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ❛ lacuca racha, step in step cha cha . ❜

“Oh for fuck’s sake send someone else,” you scream at your mission email and threw your head back in the chair. This is stupid, this is absolutely and horrifyingly stupid. You have done this mission two times now and failed.

And it frustrates you.

You have never failed any mission and this new one which you have tried two times in the last month has brought you nothing but failure. It also made you injure badly at your waistline which is still in its healing phase but at least you can run and combat now. But suddenly the same mission is handled to you again after four weeks of resting period.

Kill Agent ‘K.Ys’ from Ateez.

Just on the day you come back.

Terrific.

You stand up kicking the chair in rage as it slams into the wall behind you and walk towards your boss’s office. Knocking on the door, you don’t bother waiting for a ‘come in’ as you strut inside and slam the papers on his table.

Your boss doesn’t turn around and maintains a calm demeanour as if he is expecting you and it infuriates you more as he slowly turns around to see you.

“Well, I see you got your mission,” he grins and you roll your eyes visibly.

“Sir, I am obviously injured, I have failed the last two times I tried this, you should be sending someone better,” you reason calmly even though just a few seconds ago you slammed the door.

He chuckles and you shiver at the underlying sarcasm in it and you look at him as he stands up. “For an agent, you are obviously not very clever, are you y/n?”

“Sir, I don’t understand,” you stutter out getting nervous at his figure. His eyes search your face and you shiver lightly at the thoughts which you are aware he is plotting in his mind.

“You are our best agent for this, you have done it two times, so you can do it again. The third time is a charm, as they say,” his voice suddenly turns sweet and cheerful and your doubts increase at his sickly tone, why is he behaving like this?

You decide not to question and nod your head wordlessly working your way towards the door as your hand lingers over the knob.

He was just being nice, right? Even though he did say you are stupid and suddenly changed his sentence to something better.

You turn around murmuring a quiet, “I will not disappoint you, Sir,” and leave. He is definitely up to something. And that something includes you.

You wear your tactical suit and make sure the guns and the knives are in place along with the small loop earring that acts as a laser. You carry another gun too this time because you don’t know how your meeting will go with K.Ys this time.

K.Ys and you are known for your notorious encounters. Your past meetings have been rather interesting.

Apart from your missions to kill him you have seen him multiple times in your stakeouts. The known-for-his-words seducer, the model-faced seducer of Ateez. As an enemy agent it went way beyond your ethics how the girls just lay on his feet.

K.Ys, whose real name is still unknown to you, is a man who has a way with his words. The amount of times he had tried to rope you in with his sweet words, and seductive language and the equal number of times you had almost twisted a knife in his body. Like is he hot? Yes, maybe, probably, definitely! But lying on his feet for that? Absolutely not, where are people’s dignity nowadays?

“One more sentence from that mouth of yours and I will twist you to death,” you warned him.

“I would like to see you try, my love,” he spoke with an enamouring smile that you had half the mind to slap it off.

So when you were finally assigned to eliminate him a month ago you could have never been happier. Finally you will get to see him shut up that too under your mercy. Too bad, he was actually really hard to kill.

The first time you were finally assigned to kill him you had walked past the wired barriers and quietly entered the abandoned factory you were given information as the temporary base for Ateez K.Ys. You had backup waiting out for your signal and you entered the password for the door only to be hit with an ‘Access denied.’ Your brows furrowed in confusion and you tried it again but the same red light popped up. You racked your brain and spoke through your earpiece about the problem only for your boss to yell that you were the one wrong and he should have sent someone better.

Getting annoyed at his continuous comments you yanked off your earpiece, put it in your pocket and tried again. Same result!

“What are you looking for sweetheart?” his deep voice interrupted you as your hands hovered over the lock. You turn around swiftly push him to the door and hold a knife to the person’s throat and he merely chuckles. The dim light showed off his perfect features as you tried to scan his face and there he was, in all his glory, K.Ys of Ateez.

You internally cursed yourself for tugging over your earpiece but maintained a stern stance as you spoke up, “Well, you are a lot more tolerable when under my knife, Agent K.Ys.”

He merely chuckled at your sentence and paid no heed to the knife in front of his throat as he said, “What a pleasant surprise!” His demeanour had a dangerous edge to it and you felt him scanning your face with his eyes he spoke up again, “I assume you are here to kill me?”

“Yes,” you shrugged and took out your gun to eliminate him. This was easy, your boss was worried for nothing. You hold it at his head and just as you were about to pull the trigger K.Ys vanished. You gasped out visibly confused and before you could act someone came behind your back and slashed you with a knife. The warmth oozed your skin as you groaned and turning around you saw the same man now smirking. The superficial cut was in the back of your mind now, as you ran and punched him in the face as he held your fist easily.

“Drooling over a hologram sweety? That’s how handsome I am, aren’t I?” he whispered and twisted your arm as you groaned in pain sitting on your knees. You definitely should not have pulled off that earpiece.

You slid on the ground kicked his shin and picked up your gun from the ground. “Too cocky, aren’t we?” you smirked swirling your gun in your hand.

“Oh darling, you should not try to kill me,” his voice increased in his pitch of seduction and you rolled your eyes kicking his stomach again and he groaned from the contact. Chuckling at him you aimed your gun but before you could shoot something hit the back of your head and you blacked out.

The second time, you were in disguise. You had information about the club he was going to and used his seducing skills for information and you readied yourself for it. A red sleek dress with a thigh slit, red heels, red lips, and red highlights in your hair. You put on a face mask and wore the thigh chain which would work as the recorder, hid the gun in your dress and attached a katana inside your shoe.

You walk inside the club getting induced by the smell of alcohol and sweaty bodies. Emotionless, meaningless conversation filled your ear and made you wonder why you took up a job in this dimension.

Not wanting to dwell with your thoughts you made your way towards the back room and entered it. The first scene you saw made you roll your eyes as a girl ground on K.Ys as he whispered in her ears and she repeated it.

Suddenly his gaze fell on you and dark eyes glazed your body and you tried to discard the heavy feeling under his eyes checking you out. On the good side, your plan was up and working. You smiled through your face mask and he smirked back suddenly the person in front of him was of no use anymore as he made her get off his lap. You snickered to yourself as you saw her leaving without even one release and made your way towards him rocking your hips lightly.

“Oh babygirl, you found the right person for you,” he whispers as you straddle him and he circles his hand around your hips. His heated gaze made you light-headed as you scolded yourself and you’re hormones for it but you returned it back and slowly kissed the corner of his lips.

“Teasing me now?” he voiced out as another hand caressed your waistline and you pulled your hair to the side exposing your neck area. His eyes landed on your neck as he kissed your collarbones and made his way up. You pulled up your leg and circled it around his waist and the katana was almost out. You just have to push it inside him.

“So pretty,” he kisses your jawline and starts sucking on it as you moan out a little too loud for your acting but tighten your hands around the katana. You had to kill him.

Your eyes widened as you felt a dagger pierce your waistline making you limp against his figure. It is twisted in and a strangled cry left your throat as you fell. You looked up through hazed eyes and watched him leave before backup arrived.

Your mind fills with hatred towards him and the way you felt your weaknesses emerging and you decide that this time you will do it. You will kill K.Ys.

You walk inside the alley with the white cloak wrapped around your body and head to kill K.Ys for the third time. To say you are desperate to kill him is wrong. You are more than desperate. You are sick and tired of your boss treating you like a toy, sending you on the same mission and trashing you when you return unsuccessful.

This is stupid in more ways than one.

You look around subtly keeping a watch for him and clutch the gun at your hips. You have to do it, you have to kill him. And you have to get out without getting hurt.

Yeosang knew you were coming, all courtesy of Wooyoung and his twin’s hacking skills and he smirks to himself as soon as he hears Wooyoung through his ear-piece point out which one is you. He watches carefully as you go past him and shakes his head to himself. You are subtle, he will give you that. But he was able to notice your ministrations and continuous fidgeting.

He tilts his head to his side and walks towards the end of the alley and he is aware of the subtle footsteps behind him. He confidently goes towards the storeroom and doesn’t bother to look back.

You see him not turning as you pick up your pace and walk behind him. He opens the sliding door and slowly turn around and lock your eyes with him. Your hood is down as you take in his features slowly, the mint highlights below the black hair, his sharp nose bridge, a remarkable face and the sheer suit he was wearing.

And you run.

He only watches, one eyebrow-raising at you and you take your gun and click the trigger multiple times. Yeosang simply dodges the bullets and you run faster and enter the storeroom.

The door shuts behind you and your senses click. This was a trap and you walked right into it. Nevertheless, you clutch your gun and look around.

You click on your gun lightly and discard the cloak. Crouching below you hide yourself behind the numerous boxes and your feet silently trudge the ground.

“You are the pawn again, y/n?” you hear K.Ys’s voice boom through the factory and he somehow knew your name. You resist the urge to get up and get a look at him and shoot the bullet.

Yeosang clicks his tongue and continues, “But you are too pretty to be killed.”

Your blood boils at his words and before you can think with your mind, you get up and fire a bullet in his direction. He dodges it pretty easily and chuckles saying, “Don’t use up all your bullets, babygirl.”

You walk towards him as you say, “I will if it means you will be dead for good.”

“Full of spite now, aren’t we?” he smirks tilting his head and walking towards you. Your eyes travel down the muscles twitching under his sheer sleeves and your eyes wander on them a bit before you regain your posture and cock your gun at him.

“Oh darling, you may not want to kill me,” he says his voice turning sickly sweet and you let out a sarcastic laugh and say, “Keep repeating those sentences K.Ys and-“

“My name is Kang Yeosang, love, learn it,” and as soon as he says that you push him towards the boxes as some of them tumble behind and hold the gun to his head.

“The only difference between the last times you said those sentences is that you lived and today you will die, Kang Yeosang” you reply, your eyes glazing over the man at your gunpoint, a satisfied smile tinting your lips.

Yeosang tilts his head in amusement and swiftly yanks your hand on the gun towards him making you stumble over his figure for a millisecond and suddenly you are the one pinned to the boxes. You two keep fighting with good amounts of defence. You kick him on the knees making him groan after some seconds but he quickly gets up and pushes you to the nearest wall glaring at you.

You glare back at him and as if a switch goes on inside Yeosang he says, “Are you sure you aren’t here just to have a good time? Did your boss send the good girl to have a taste of my dick?”

“Shut the fuck up, I hate you,” you grit out pushing him but to no avail and he laughs looking at you, his deep laughter echoing through the storeroom. He pins your hand behind you stands up against the wall properly and hovers over your figure.

“And I hate the way you laugh so much at your useless teammates’ lame jokes, but we are not on complaining basis now, are we?” he challenges and your eyes scan his face. In all your six months of countless encounters of his arrogance and your stubbornness you might have realise that, in fact, he really is good looking.

“Playing hard to get won’t get you anywhere, darling,” he purrs and you whimper as your mind travels places. Blame Yeosang’s seductive words, or his deep voice, or you not being able to get a good fuck for years now your mind pauses to think. You feel yourself getting lightheaded at his words.

He is a seducer for god’s sake, of course, he is good, and you are here to kill him so get your priorities straight, your mind screams at you. A pathetic whine leaves your throat when you feel Yeosang lightly kissing the skin behind your ear, his hands hovering over your waist hovering a bit.

Fuck priorities, you scream internally and your reactions amuse Yeosang as he grips your hips tighter and you moan at him whispering right into your ear, “Just as I thought, you are all talk and no bite.”

You gasp loudly and open your eyes to see him. The well-lit storeroom accentuates his features as you see his dark, lust-filled eyes boring into yours. You take in his face that looks like a sculpture and you curse the Gods for making a man this beautiful.

“I hate you so much,” you breathe heavily and watch his eyes run all over your face before grinning, “That’s not new, tell me something I don’t know.”

“You can’t get information from me, Kang,” you glare at him and you see a shift in his eyes as it locks with yours, “Are you sure you want this?” You stare at him dumbfounded, you mind clouding at the thought of his hands being pressed to your body, his mouth leaving warm, open kisses and you a whine leaves your throat. “Fuck yes,” you say.

He smirks at your answer pressing his lips at the base of your jaw. You feel his nose brushing along as his soft lips imprint on your skin and you throw your head back to the wall. Your hormones are acting up too wildly for your own good.

“Yo-You are fucking insane,” you breathe out and he merely smirks saying, “You are the one falling apart when I have barely touched you princess.”

“I need you,” you whine pathetically, the thoughts of killing him at the back of your mind. You can kill him after he fucks you for all you care. You will think about your dignity some other time too. Right now you just need him inside you.

He sucks your neck harshly at your words, his teeth clashing on your skin making you cry at the contact. He pulls back shortly admiring his work and presses his lips to yours. You kiss him back and the kiss is everything but soft, tongues fighting for dominance, teeth clashing and you groan as you fill him manoeuvre you by clutching your head and pushing it closer to his.

A string of saliva interconnects you two as he leaves your lips and presses light kisses, unsure fingers hovering over the zipper of your body suit. His breathless features and messy hair send a rush down to your core making you grow impatient by every second.

“Yeosang just take it off,” you whine and he is quick to tear it off your body and drinks in your sight. He feels himself getting hard as he slides off your panties and inserts his digits pushing them in with no mercy.

A strangled cry leaves your throat at the sudden contact while Yeosang pushes his fingers inside scissoring you open. “Fuck princess, so wet, only for me isn’t it?”

Your malicious words dry at the back of your throat and you can only mewl, he smirks at your fucked out state saying, “You were talking big a moment ago, what happened now?”

A half-whine half-gasp leaves your throat at his words and he continues, “Boys here can’t fuck you like this can they, princess?”

“N-no they can’t, oh my god,” you gasp as Yeosang’s finger hits your G-spot repeatedly making you dizzy and you hear the slick sounds of your clit filling the room. Pressure builds up in your stomach and Yeosang can feel it too with the way you are clenching around him making him pull away,

A disappointed grunt leaves your lips and you mutter, “Asshole.”

“Keep talking like that and I will leave you here to fend for yourself.”

“You are so full of yourself.”

“And you are about to be full of me but you don’t see me complaining do you?”

You shut up soon and feel your mouth watering as he takes off his suit and you stare at the bulge in front of you. He smirks at your reaction pushing you back to the wall.

You cry loudly as he pushes his cock inside you and grip his shoulders and he gives you time to adjust. As soon as you nod he thrusts into you repeatedly broken whimpers falling from your lips. He groans himself but still takes his chance as he intakes your figure and says, “I wonder what your boss’s reaction will be after he knows his ‘best agent’ got fucked senseless by K.Ys.”

Your nerves heighten at his words, at the knowledge of your boss, at the fact that you are in fact supposed to be killing and you mewl a quiet “faster” to him as he pounds into you relentlessly. Your throat feels dry and you can’t even form a proper sentence as he abuses you hole, hitting in the right place every time.

“Come on princess, don’t be so quiet now. Show some gratitude for being fucked as you deserve and moan my name,” Yeosang hoarsely speaks up and you let out broken and loud moans at his words.

“That’s right, nobody can fuck you as I do, can they babygirl?” you scream at his words saying, “No, o-only you.”

“C-close,” you mumble at him, your senses at the peak of not getting your release earlier and he pushes himself in again saying, “Yeah? Well, I don’t know if I should let you come yet.”

“Shit, Yeo please,” you cry out at his words and a teasing smile lingers on his lips at the nickname and he whispers, “Okay love, cum, let go for me.” A loud moan of his name leaves your throat as you finally get to release and he thrusts himself through it coming soon in the condom after you.

You pant heavily your legs feeling like jelly and he pulls himself out and murmurs a small “I got you”. He holds your waists, makes you sit down and kneels in front of you carefully.

“What the hell are you doing to me Kang Yeosang?” you whisper as you see him cradle you, your head falling on his shoulders as he picks up your gun, katana and suit and keeps them beside you.

“You are supposed to kill me,” you whisper but Yeosang pays no heed to your words as he scans your body for any mark that would hurt. His eyes stop on your own, and you feel delusional as his soft brown ones hold your gaze. No way in hell is he now going all soft on you!

“Why do you always let your boss treat you like a pawn?” he whispers and you rest your head on his shoulders again. Your eyebrows furrow at his sentence and ask, “What do you mean?”

“You are like a suicide bomber to them, they send you to lure me and then try to kill both of us,” he says softly, one hand caressing your hair but suddenly you hold the hand and yank him away. You glare at him, the light constriction in your throat becoming worse every second. Just the time you thought he is being nice!

“Stop with the brainwashing, if you want to kill me do it now,” you grit your teeth, eyes seething with anger and he sighs handing you your earpiece. “Listen for yourself,” he says but you ignore him. You put on your suit hurriedly and he watches you as you put on the earpiece.

Your ears feel the familiarity of the machine as you are about to pick up your gun and suddenly your boss’s voice floats in your ear.

“She is dead already I think, easier for us, you know K.Ys is in there so kill him, go.”

You stop dead on your track and suddenly everything hits. Your boss’s weird change in behaviour, his fake smiles, him handing you this mission specifically. But how did Yeosang know?

“Yeosang, h-how did you know?” you look up at him and he watches you slowly pick up your hand, clutching the gun so tight he can almost see your knuckles whitening.

“I saw them attack you both times and we saved you the second time,” he speaks nonchalantly as if saving your enemy agent is the most normal thing ever. Your eyes float with confusion and thus Yeosang explains it in short.

Yeosang saw the figure behind you hitting your head and he quickly called for their fighting team. Before the person can even touch Yeosang, San jumps in and kills him. His eyes moved to you and Yeosang shrugged confused as to why your people were trying to kill you. Seonghwa quickly pulled him out of there but his eyes lingered on your figure but left you there.

The second time Yeosang looked up in horror when the same man who slashed your waistline pounded on him. Yeosang had skills and fought the man and soon was assisted and after they made sure he was dead he looked at you.

“They keep sending her as a pawn,” Seonghwa voiced his thoughts and Yeosang contemplated sometime before saying, “Should we bring her back to base?”

“Hongjoong is gonna kill you,” San whispered but looking at your unconscious face he sighed saying, “Fine, we will treat her and then leave her at her house with a sedative.”

Your house was pretty easy to find, all courtesy to the push-and-pull couple of Yunho and Wooyoung’s twin, as they treated you fast. Hongjoong seethed with anger but got defeated when Yeosang told him the plan. He has never seen Yeosang this worked up for anyone and even though it worried him, he knew he was treading another fire himself.

Yeosang, with the help of Mingi, had dropped you off at your house, with a perfectly clean bandage and with one last lingering look your way they had gone away.

“Is that why I was at the doorstep of my house?” you ask him softly and he nods unable to meet your eyes and you exhale. You were a pawn to them, a person they would happily kill for their sake. You, their best agent, were just prey to lure the predators.

“I might have hated your guts when we met a few months ago, but I don’t let anyone get treated like a pawn, and besides, you are not a bad person,“ he says, his mind hovering over his outburst at seeing you injured. He was very close to killing everyone who tried to kill you.

“Can I join you guys, take revenge here and go back to the A-dimension?” your sudden question makes Yeosang look up at you. He didn’t question why you were here in the first place but nodded.

“You still have to meet Hongjoong though,” he trails off unsure as he steps in front of you. A mixture of his cologne and sweat hits your nose and you sigh contently. You could get used to this. You could get used to him.

“I think he will like me considering how good I am at combat,” you smile lightly looking at his face and he shrugs, a light laugh falling from his lips as you continue, “And considering his seducer actually fell for one woman.”

“That’s a lie,” he scoffs but can’t resist it when you press your lips against his encasing him in a soft kiss. He kisses you back, his hands caressing your cheeks and you smile making him smile too.

You pull back staring at his eyes, deep in affection, and say, “Right, because you wait for consent and kiss the informants like this after too?”

“Shut up,” he groans and you laugh at his shy demeanour.

Holding his hands you say, “Call your fighting team, I want to show these Z-dimension bitches what their ‘pawn’ can do.” 

✸ㅤ ara's notesㅤㅤ───ㅤㅤ yeah, this one is changed, i improved it lmao ㅤㅤ»ㅤ series mlistㅤ ateez mlist ㅤ main mlist ㅤ naviㅤㅤ𠈔

✸ㅤ taglistㅤㅤ───ㅤㅤ @haneagerr @tunaasan @evidive @huachengsbestie01 @philijack @atiny-lizbeth @chxnnii @nakiiko @therealcuppicake ㅤㅤ»ㅤㅤ comment here or in series mlist to be added or removedㅤㅤ𠈔

© arafilez on tumblr. please don't copy and repost my work as your own ▰▰ ✶

[jinkookspencil]

Hey, one with jk, he attends a red carpet and saw for the first time to his idol ( this world wide famous singer) and starts fanboying her, and they spend time together, and he asks for his number

i was surprised at how quickly i wrote this since my writing pace has been so incredibly slow and also since i’ve never written idol!jungkook like this before or idol!reader. now i keep resisting the urge to hold it in my drafts and add to it and make it longer >.< i feel like i might be able to maybe continue it?? but idk. thank you sm for requesting, anon!! i hope you like it!

<3

she’s here? | jjk

jungkook arrives at another tedious brand event… only to see his celebrity crush

wc: ~1.8k

tags: idol!jungkook x idol!reader (afab reader) / fluff / one-shot / first meeting / clean except swearing / featuring: kim mingyu of seventeen / mentions: IU and cha eunwoo of astro

The flashing lights appeared before the car had even come to a full stop, and Jungkook was bored already. Sat fiddling with his styled outfit and brand-gifted jewelry, as he began to hear distant yells of his name, he wondered how soon he could leave the event. It wasn’t personal, just another tedious event.

“It’s good you decided to come here,” his manager, Do-yun, says beside him as if reading his thoughts. “It’s been a while since you made a public appearance, you’re contracted to show off your brand ambassadorship and promote the jewelry, and most of all, your album is coming up. This’ll be good.”

“Mhmm,” Jungkook murmurs, ready to disassociate for the next couple of hours while putting on his best smile. All he wanted at that moment was samgyeopsal, karaoke, and beers with Mingyu and Eunwoo… but duty calls. “Is Mingyu going to be here?”

“The PLEDIS team hasn’t answered my text,” Do-yun says. “You’re up.”

The van’s jet-black door slides open and Jungkook is almost immediately blinded by the lights of the cameras going off right in front of him. He’d forgotten just how bright they could be, but thankfully remembered his failsafe sensory-overload tactic: covering up his face with his hands. It was the only way Jungkook could cope, and for once, he thanked his youthful appearance and reputation for making him seem adorable above all else. He adjusts soon enough, as always, strutting down the carpet and showing off his charm, outfit, and accessories. He was able to pick up on one or two of the paparazzi and press’ requests, showing off a finger-heart pose and playfully touching his abs over his outfit, but in an instant, their loud voices fade, and time slows. He can’t hear anything. He can’t see anything… but the beautiful smile he's started to dream of, right behind the clear double doors of the event. Was that really….

“Jungkook!”

He hears that - a call right beside his ears coming from the familiar, booming voice of his own manager, now grabbing his elbow. “Snap out of it. You’re supposed to be in by now.”

Looking around, Jungkook realizes he’d been holding up a line, with a dozen other celebrities waiting for his moment to be over, while the paparazzi continued to cheer, capture, and fawn over him, eating up his ‘adorable spacing out moment.’

“I apologize!” Jungkook smiles, bowing to the celebrities beside him as well as the hundreds of photographers ahead of him, his heart racing as Do-yun and his security team lead him to the double doors. When they’re pulled open, his bubbling anticipation subsides, for rather than the heavenly hallucination he must've had, he sees Mingyu standing before him.

“Gyu!” Jungkook yelps, hugging his best friend, who greets him with the same enthusiasm. “Samgyeopsal and karaoke afterwards?”

“Please, sunbaenim,” Mingyu giggles quietly. “I’m bored out of my fucking mind. I’ve been here for an hour already.”

Unable to wait even a minute, Jungkook brings in both his manager and his best friend into a huddle. “Hey, am I dreaming, or was that _____ I saw in here?”

“She is here, simp,” Mingyu smiles, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively before sticking out his tongue between his teeth.

“Do-yun, you didn’t tell me she would be here tonight,” Jungkook says in a panic.

“I didn’t know. Seems she decided at the last minute, just like you did.”

“Soulmates,” Jungkook whispers under his breath, ignoring the two men rolling their eyes before him. “This is fate. We keep missing each other at these things…. I have to meet her.”

“I’ll make it happen, Kook-ah,” Mingyu smirks, expecting the light shove Jungkook gives him afterward. “For you, I promise. You know we don’t have the same taste in girls. Do-yun, do you know that I never even crushed on IU?”

“You fucking idiot - you know you’re the only idol who hasn’t, right?” Jungkook says. “Anyways, IU was a boyhood crush. This…. she… she’s even better.”

“Oh, shit. Do-yun-nim. This is serious. We need to do something.”

“I don’t know where your team is, Kim Mingyu, but I’m dragging the both of you to meet everyone you actually have to meet here. Then, sit in a corner and chat about pork or singalongs, or mingle with safe people. Men - or female staff only. You know the drill,” Do-yun says sternly. “Best to stay safe even though you don’t really have to worry about sneaky photos - security is tight, and they took all our phones. The only people with their phones are idols and brand ambassadors such as yourselves. Got it?”

The boys nod reluctantly. “Now we know why he keeps missing her at these things,” Mingyu scoffs, and at that, Do-yun quickly places a hand on Jungkook’s shoulder.

“I’ll make it happen, Jungkook-ssi.”

+

It’d been close to an hour since Do-yun scurried away and mere minutes since Mingyu silently left Jungkook to fend for himself and wish his other members had been invited. He was so used to being glued to his hyungs at the hip, and now he found himself scanning the crowded room for a familiar face.

“Jungkook!” Mingyu’s familiar voice boomed, and Jungkook finds his best friend farther than he’d expected, close to the other side of the room with a wide smirk on his face. Knowing his friend was just as menacing as he was sweet, Jungkook made his way there without any thoughts…

"For your own benefit, I took a page from your book and stopped waiting around for the company’s approval... You're my bad influence, so you are my first bad idea. Thank me or scold me later."

One can never be sure when it comes to Mingyu, so Jungkook nods and allows his friend to grab him by the hand…. silently leading him through the crowded room... to you.

"Do-yun-nim was taking too long. Found her much hotter friend first, and ta-da,” Mingyu quickly whispers into his ear.

In a moment of panic, Jungkook’s idol-wired brain took over, quickly scanning the room for any warning signs - untrustworthy staff or sketchy fellow idols, hidden cameras. It seemed… safe. It was just an innocent meeting, tucked away in a corner of the room… No biggie.

“BTS Jungkook…”

Jungkook couldn’t believe it. Your voice was as sweet as it was in your interviews… But you were far, far more beautiful in real life.

“____!” he cheers. “It’s really nice to meet you.”

“Me? Coming from BTS’ Jeon Jungkook, wah, I guess I’ve made it then.”

Holy shit, how do you blush so adorably?

“You have made it,” Jungkook says, “And with your own blood, sweat, and tears, too. It’s insanely admirable.”

“You flatter me too much. You paved the way! I hope to one day get to the level where I can quote my own songs too.”

“That… was unintentional,” Jungkook blushes, regretting his choice of words. “But your lyrics are… some of the most beautiful I’ve come across in all my years as an idol. Your latest single brought me to tears.”

“It’s true. It was embarrassing,” Mingyu confirms, ignoring Jungkook’s glare.

“Oh, no, that touches my heart. It makes me feel like an honest artist and a bit proud, actually - not that I made you cry! But that my experience translated into the song like that… I cried every second I worked on the song, actually.”

“Oh no. I hope you never cry a day in your life, _____,” Jungkook blurts. “Don’t get hurt, please.”

“Thank you, Jungkook,” you say with a heartwarming giggle. “I have to, though, don’t I? I’ll take care of my health, but I have to live. To live is to cry every now and then.”

“That’s true. Namjoon-hyung says that too - you know he’s the main songwriter in our group, right?”

“Of course.”

“Beautiful lyrics can only come from beautiful people.”

In a failed attempt to hide his scoff, Mingyu scurries off. “Simp," he quickly mutters under his breath. "I’ll go find your friend, ____.”

“Kim Mingyu, treat her well!” you call out with a ferocity that ignites another fire in Jungkook’s heart.

“Jungkook-ssi…. Maybe we can write together sometime?”

“I’m not really a writer,” Jungkook says, not knowing the reason why. A failed display of honesty, perhaps? He has written in the past, of course, for both his own discography as well as BTS’…. A surge of regret floods his system in a second.

“You’re a beautiful person, Jungkook, so by your logic, you must be able to write some beautiful lyrics as well.”

Stunned, Jungkook is unable to respond. Did you just call him beautiful?

“You really are as cute as they say… as cute as I imagined,” you smile. “What do you say?”

Jungkook nods, happily giving you his phone when you ask for it before typing in his number in yours.

“So I can call you?” Jungkook asks, brushing his hair away from his face.

“I hope you do.”

You turn your back, ready to make your way back into the event and probably find your friend, but the moment you’d turned your back, Jungkook realizes he hadn’t said enough.

“____?” It takes another moment for Jungkook to muster up the courage to go on once he sees your face again, so he spills out his words the moment they come to him. “I just want to tell you that I… I really respect you as an artist. I always have, and I always will. I can’t say the same for so many of our peers these days, unfortunately, so I felt like I needed to say that.”

“I...... I needed to hear that more than anything else, Jungkook-ssi... Thank you,” you say quietly.

“Thank you," you repeat in a whisper. “I’m also thanking whatever force or higher power made you say that just now.”

“I mean it myself, though,” Jungkook reiterates.

“I know, but it feels like fate that you’d told me that tonight. I’ll tell you the story one day - why I so badly needed to hear that tonight.”

Jungkook nods, exhaling in an effort to hide his astonishment as you walk away in a rush, hiding whatever emotion you were feeling too.

One day.

He’ll hold you - and fate - up to that.

[slasher-dasher]

Hi hi!

Are you able to write headcanons for Bo Sinclair, Billy Lenz, Billy Loomis, Pyramid Head, with a fail girl or a Girlfailure s/o? Or something like that?

In the movies/games they’re in, the protagonist is usually innocent, resourceful, and morally good. So how would they be with a person who has committed some terrible action (killing a person close to them by accident or selfish reason), is kind of a loser, pathetic-ish, etc. They’re good with weapons, and survive literally anything though. They try to compensate for what they did often, and feels like helping them or doing what the slashers say does that.

Very grateful of their love, and the type to say “I would die for you!” Instead of “I love you” like a normal person. I was thinking of James Sunderland and Michael Afton, and my mind came to this, haha.

Slashers w/a Girlfailure S/O

︶꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷♡꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦︶

Bo Sinclair:

Bo has led a bunch of people to their waxy deaths, and he was intent on doing the same to you

How you were able to avoid literally every trap set around town baffled him to the point where he took matters into his own hands

He was even more surprised to see that you had done the same to one of the statues that had gotten a little courageous and tried to escape with you

"Darlin' you are so goddamn pathetic" "You mean it? 🥺" You've been his ever since. Bo rarely lets you out of his sight because he likes to watch you fumble with all the tasks/chores he gives you

He does put your knowledge of weapons to good use when the victims escape. He sends you "on the hunt", as he likes to call it, and often stays back to watch you work

Billy Lenz:

You're the first to figure out that he's up in the attic purely by wandering up there to grab stuff out of storage (he immediately tackled you). You surprised him by actually being able to fight him off!

Sometimes he likes to call just to see what he can get you to ramble about (or confess); he was very caught off guard when you started using his own tactics on him and promptly hung up the first time. You didn't hear from him for a few hours--

Billy is almost always on your heels; there have been many close-calls with the other members in the house and his hiding places get more creative every day

The difference between you two is that Billy is very reactive when he feels his guilt, where you internalize it; Billy kills to defend/on impulse and you kill to protect/by choice.

I think it's very clear that you and Billy harbor a similar guilt- Killing does distress and upset him and although it's subtle, he sees the same in you too. He appreciates when you try to help him, and he tries to help you too! But neither of you end up feeling any relief

Billy Loomis:

He picks on you often, sometimes to get a reaction (affectionate) and sometimes to be an asshole (derogatory)

Billy likes to toy with your guilt by making you help him with his calls, specifically by being on-scene and waiting to strike. He would never admit it, but he was a little jealous that you were better at chases than he was

"But Billy you told me to cha-" "I didn't tell you to almost get killed!! You might be good with a knife but I won't help you if you get caught."

Loves to admire you after a chase. He knows the look in your eyes because it's the same one in his, patches up any scrapes or stabs while calling you an idiot for almost getting caught, admires and even compliments your strategy, it's when he's the most honest.

Billy doesn't expect you to atone for anything. Just follow his plan and don't get caught. He's making you into a perfect partner in crime~

Pyramid Head:

Silent Hill is known to have visitors who are looking for a way to compensate for their sins, so he's not surprised when you come looking for the same thing

What Silent Hill is not known for is having visitors who can fight back. Most try to grab a pipe to defend themselves but you, you were either very lucky or very resourceful.

Every time he thought you were done for he'd be pleasantly surprised with the improvised weapon you grabbed appeared seemingly out of thin air in front of you

He liked to watch you fight off a group of monsters before intervening, it wasn't much fun when you got overwhelmed

Often carries you back to safety. Many of the monsters and residents learn that Pyramid Head is not far when you are nearby so they eventually learn to steer clear of you

(James Sunderland is v girlfail-core so I absolutely get it)

[thecreaturecodex]

Skelm, Street

Image © Paizo Publishing. Accessed at Archives of Nethys here

[I love the skelms. They might be my favorite Pathfinder monster new to 2e. I've seen the idea of a male equivalent to hags discussed before. Someone on rpg.net, maybe it was @crinosg or @prokopetz, gave their take the name "coots" and used the Old Man of the Mountain from a Betty Boop cartoon as their model. Paizo's brilliant idea was tying their male hag analogue to ideas of toxic masculinity and entitlement. Since I'm someone who loves to use monsters as tools of social commentary, I was basically their target audience here.]

Skelm, Street CR 3 LE Monstrous Humanoid If not for his unnaturally red face and the rack of antlers growing from his brow, this could be an ordinary human. He wears leather armor and carries a cane.

Skelms are creatures of rage and spite, created spontaneously from evil humanoids overwhelmed by anger. All skelms are male, and some sages posit that they are some sort of metaphysical counterpart to hags. Unlike the prolonged ritual to make a hag, a skelm can arise from a totally normal person in a matter of hours—skelms often hold court over potential recruits and transform them through brutal, humiliating hazing. After transformation, a skelm will often return to their previous life, hiding their inhuman features through magical disguises and changing their pursuits to cruelty and exploitation full time.

All skelms have antlers, which are a source of combined pride and shame. Skelms with smaller racks will belittle those with larger ones, although they will claim other reasons for this scorn if pressed. Even more distinctively, skelms deny that they have antlers when dealing with non-skelms, regardless of evidence or argument.

Street skelms are the weakest of the skelms. In their mortal guise, street skelms exploit the respect most people give to the elderly and the wealthy, and they usually appear as one or both of these in order to recruit a mob. Street skelms have little in the way of magical talents, but they are skilled at finding scapegoats to blame for community ills and sic their followers after. Street skelms have even more of a chip on their shoulder than other skelms do, and their egos are especially delicate. Their combat tactics, whether they are in their monstrous forms or not, tend to revolve around doing an immense amount of damage to a single target at a time, preferably a weak or vulnerable one, and then crowing about it for a few rounds before resuming their assault.

Street Skelm CR 3 XP 800 LE Medium monstrous humanoid Init +2; Senses Perception +7, scent

Defense AC 17, touch 13, flat-footed 14(+2 Dex, +1 dodge, +2 armor, +2 natural) hp 25 (3d10+9) Fort +5, Ref +6, Will +5; -2 vs. emotion effects DR 3/cold iron

Offense Speed 30 ft. Melee gore +7 (1d6+6 plus trip) or improvised club +7 (1d6+4), gore +2 (1d6+2 plus trip) Ranged rock +5 (1d4+4) Special Attacks belittling rant,improvisational brawler, punishing strike

Statistics Str 18, Dex 15, Con 17, Int 16, Wis 13, Cha 18 Base Atk +3; CMB +7; CMD 19 Feats Catch Off Guard (B), Combat Reflexes, Dodge, Throw Anything (B) Skills Bluff +7,Disguise +7, Intimidate +13, Knowledge (local) +6, Perception +7, Sense Motive +4, Stealth +8; Racial Modifiers +4 Intimidate Languages Aklo, Common SQ change shape (Small or Medium male humanoid, alter self),skelm traits

Ecology Environment urban Organization solitary or gang (1 plus 2-24 humanoids) Treasure standard

Special Abilities Belittling Rant (Su) As a standard action, a street skelm can give a rant that affects all creatures that can hear and understand it within 30 feet. A DC 15 Will save negates the effect. A creature affected by a street skelm is shaken for 1 minute. Anyone shaken in this way takes an additional -2 to damage rolls against the skelm, but gains a +2 morale bonus to damage rolls against other targets. The save DC is Charisma based. Improvisational Brawler (Ex) A street skelm gains Catch Off Guard and Throw Anything as bonus feats. A street skelm treats all improvised ranged weapons as having a 20 foot range increment. Punishing Blow (Ex) As a standard action, a street skelm can exert himself to make a single powerful attack. When he does, he adds an additional damage die of the same type to the attack, and can make a CMB check as a free action without provoking an attack of opportunity to push the creature hit 5 feet. After making this attack, the street skelm is treated as being flat footed until the beginning of its next turn. Skelm Traits (Ex) All skelms gain a +4 racial bonus to Intimidate checks, but a -2 penalty to all saving throws against emotion effects.

[monstersdownthepath]

Homebrew Horror: Dominion Disassemblers

(Art from The Book of Unremitting Horror, pg. 66)

Though this is beyond the knowledge of any worldly being, the Dominion of the Black was not always the galactic union it is now. Until a united council with a common goal took the head of the Dominion, wars both petty and planet-scarring were common among its many factions, though in the centuries since their grand union, these squabbles have been reduced to near-nonexistence except when weapons must be tested.

Many relics from this tumultuous time remain in use even to this day, one of the most 'famous' being the Gan-Dergorin, known in the common tongue as Dominion Disassembler, monstrous, nigh-unkillable biomechanical titans with a unique behavioral quirk built into their very genetic code which made them useful in the old wars, and has them remaining useful even now, long after they're no longer needed for their original purpose: destroying Dominion technology. The war machines of the Dominion are unlike any of the minor scouting and scientific units seen on Golarion's soil, the twisted mixtures of flesh and steel nearly impossible to truly put down for good, able to continue their terrible march even as enormous portions of their bodies were torn away.

That is where the Gan-Dergorin come in. These bestial constructs have a simple tactic when facing down any enemy: tear it to pieces too small to remain active. Even the most resilient Dominion machines of terror cannot survive the thoroughness of the destruction that Disassemblers enact upon them, severing every single joint and connector from one another until their victims are rent to their smallest possible components. A Disassembler which has the time to do so will then go even further by separating all types of tissue and matter from one another, then carefully sorting the mangled gore into piles and rows based on how useful it believes its alien masters may find the components, behavior which assured a steady stream of resources for the flesh-forges of the Dominion.

Even today, their gruesome displays are useful when intimidating or punishing captive populations, though Dominion science has advanced to the point such brutal measures are no longer needed; they have much more thorough and effective means of reducing living creatures to their component parts. As such, Disassemblers are used as weapons of terror against the Dominion's enemies among the stars and within their own populations, though this isn't to say they're restricted to distant worlds.

The arrival of a Disassembler on soil beyond the Dominion's grip is an occurrence which is rare to the point of nonexistence, but it has happened both by accident (errant portals and teleportation errors) and purposeful action. On the exceedingly rare occasions when a cultist manages to establish and survive contact with entities concerned with the Dominion's war effort, they can be convinced to send one of these horrors to the cultist's world. Rarely does the cultist survive to give the war machines an actual order, allowing the machine to do what it does best: kill anything it encounters, and assure its own continued survival.

Gan-Dergorin CR 11 Chaotic Evil Large Construct Init +2; Senses: Darkvision 80ft, Low-light vision, blindsense 10 ft, Perception +17 Aura: Frightful Presence (60ft, DC 15) ----- Defense ----- AC 25; touch 11; flat-footed 23 (+2 Dex, +14 natural, -1 size) HP:110 (13d10+30) Fast Healing 5 Fort +4, Ref +6, Will +7 Defensive Abilities: Reassemble, Upgrade; DR 5/--; Immune Construct traits; Resist Fire 10, Cold 10, Electricity 10; Weakness Serial Number, Thorough Disassembly ----- Offense ----- Speed: 30 ft, climb 10ft Melee: Pneumatic Cleaver +19/+14/+9 (2d6+6/x3), Variable Arms +13 (2d6+3/19-20) Space/Reach: 10ft/10ft ----- Statistics ----- Str 22, Dex 15, Con --, Int 10, Wis 16, Cha 6 Base Atk +13; CMB +20; CMD 32 Feats: Cleave, Cleaving Finish, Critical Focus, Improved Cleaving Finish, Great Cleave, Power Attack, Technologist(B), Weapon Focus (Pneumatic Cleaver) Skills: Climb +19, Disable Device +9 (+13 vs machinery/technology), Perception +17, Stealth +3; Racial Modifiers: +4 to Disable Device checks against complex machinery and technology Languages: Aklo (rarely speaks) SQ: Freeze (pile of metal junk), Standing Orders, Thorough Disassembly ----- Ecology ----- Environment: Any Organization: Solitary Treasure: Standard (scrap material, integrated items)

----- Combat: Disassemblers are not complicated creatures. They charge into combat with reckless abandon, using their Great Cleave and Improved Cleaving Finish to slaughter as many weak enemies as they can with a single attack before focusing down remaining foes one at a time with their Full-Attacks, using Power Attack at every opportunity. If given an option, Disassemblers prefer to target any creature capable dealing damage it cannot resist or nullify. A Disassembler will chase down any creature it believes it can kill and will not stop until its enemy escapes or it is driven back by damage.

Morale: A Disassembler brought below 1/4th of its HP maximum will immediately retreat to recover, even if it means abandoning fallen foes, Once it has regained at least half of its total HP and perhaps integrated new weapons, it will track down its foes to dispatch them. If it is slain in combat but permitted to return to function, it will Upgrade itself and track down its killers if possible, and follow its Standing Orders if not.

-----

Reassemble (Ex): Dominion Disassemblers can reattach severed limbs and portions of their bodies by holding it to themselves for 1 full round. A Dominion Disassembler is not destroyed when it reaches 0 HP, but is rendered inert and helpless. 1d4 hours after being reduced to 0 HP, all the alien machinery within whirls back to life--it reactivates at 1 hitpoint and resumes Fast Healing. Only the thorough and comprehensive destruction of its remains using methods such as immersion in magma, acid, or a similar substance, or turning to ash via Disintegrate or similar, can prevent a Disassembler from returning to function; otherwise, it can pull itself together from even the smallest remains.

Serial Number (Ex): All Disassemblers possess a serial number etched on a plate of alien metal somewhere within their body which is kept hidden near their centers. The number cannot be observed unless the construct has been rendered helpless, and even then it requires a DC 23 Perception check to find. Any creature capable of reading and speaking Aklo can make a DC 23 Linguistics check to memorize the Serial Number or write it down perfectly.

A creature may give a verbal command to a Disassembler by speaking its entire serial number aloud and stating the action they wish it to take, in Aklo. Due to the length and complexity of each serial number, this is a full-round action which provokes an attack of opportunity, and being struck by the attack of opportunity ruins the attempt to speak the number. If left without orders, Disassemblers typically try to destroy any creature that knows their serial number. Most creatures which learn of a Disassembler's serial number can easily get rid of the creature by ordering it to take a self-destructive action, or to accept the effects of a spell which will teleport or plane shift it a great distance away.

Standing Orders (Ex): To await further orders from their commanders, Disassemblers go into a low-power mode if they have not encountered another creature in 24 hours. In this mode, they come to rest and resemble a pile of junk, though they remain somewhat aware of their surroundings and may make Perception checks at a -5 penalty to detect nearby creatures and passively make Stealth checks to hide in plain sight as a pile of scrap. They can remain in this low-power state indefinitely, and will do so as long as they are not alerted to any creature, and spring back to full functionality instantly when alerted.

Thorough Disassembly (Ex): A Disassembler gets Technologist as a bonus feat and has a +4 bonus to Disable Device checks to sabotage or take apart complex machinery and advanced technology, and Disable Device is a class skill for it. In addition, after reducing a creature to 0 HP, the Disassembler is compelled to butcher it to prevent its return. It can resist this compulsion by succeeding a DC 20 Will save; otherwise, it must spend its next round attempting to coup de grace that creature if it is still alive, or to begin ripping it to pieces if it is dead.

Upgrade (Ex): When a Disassembler is defeated but permitted to Reassemble, it learns from its failure and seeks out methods to upgrade itself. A Disassembler has a number of Upgrade Points equal to 3 + its Wisdom modifier (6 for a typical Disassembler) that it may divide as it sees fit, and each time it is defeated, its Upgrade Points reset and may be redistributed. A Disassembler requires 1d4+1 days to make upgrades to itself as it gathers raw material from any source it can find (the DM may rule it finds parts much faster in areas with high amounts of technology), and never wastes time and resources upgrading itself unless it is defeated. It can take most of the upgrades multiple times; their effects stack. It will typically choose upgrades which prevent it from being beaten via the same methods it fell to previously.

1 Point: Gain 10 points of resistance to 1 form of elemental damage, or increases its resistance to an element by 10.

1 Point: Increase its natural armor by +1 or its DR/-- by 1.

1 Point: The Disassembler integrates a set of armor and/or a shield it can get ahold of into its body, granting itself the benefits of wearing the armor/shield (AC, magical abilities) but without suffering armor check penalties or speed reductions. It can only integrate one set of armor and one shield at a time.

2 Points: Increase its walk and climb speed by 10ft each, or gain a 10ft swim speed.

2 Points: Gain a +2 profane bonus to a saving throw of its choice.

3 Points: Gain 25% Fortification.

3 Points: Gain 1 feat it qualifies for.

Variable Arms (Ex): The Disassembler's Variable Arms natural attack can switch between slashing, piercing, or bludgeoning damage as a swift action, or change into a tool capable of fine manipulation which also acts as thieves' tools. The construct can also replace its Pneumatic Cleaver with any melee weapon it finds with 1 minute of work, losing its Cleaver attack but allowing it to use that weapon without penalty. It is considered proficient with any weapon it integrates, and wields even two-handed weapons with a single limb.

[zvaigzdelasas]

Pro-union baristas at Starbucks are taking their campaign on the road on Monday and trying a new tactic along the way: asking the coffee chain's customers to organize pickets at non-unionized U.S. cafes. The Workers United union plans to hand out flyers during a 13-city bus tour to customers with a QR code that takes them to a sign-up sheet to organize their own protests during a "national 'Adopt-a-Store' day of action" on Aug. 7, according to copies of the flyers seen by Reuters.[...]

The union now represents baristas and shift supervisors at about 320 of Starbucks' roughly 9,000 corporate-owned U.S. locations. 

10 Jul 23

[blowingcookies]

you're mine noona - pt 2 - cha eunwoo x reader - day 15

[For reading my past entries, I recommend searching the following tag: #cha eunwoo x reader ; enjoy!]

[Pt 1: https://www.tumblr.com/blowingcookies/746785037098385408/youre-mine-noona-pt-1-cha-eunwoo-x-reader?source=share ]

You closed the windows to your cottage. With all the rain and humidity, your curly hair needed a break from all of the moisture, just as you needed a break from the main house. That's why you decided it was time to move into the little cottage in the far backyard; with how the funeral went, a little distance couldn't hurt.

You set up your laptop on the countertop, intent on watching some kdramas while cooking and cleaning, when someone knocked at your door. 'Who could that be?' you thought to yourself.

Before you could make it to the door, it opened.

'Hi Noona.' Dark eyes bore into yours, and you gasped.

Big, solemn, and wet, the uninvited guest moved into your kitchen and personal space . Cha Eunwoo's thick, corded arm reached around to shut off the stove behind you, and he bent down to whisper roughly into your ear.

'Careful. We wouldn't want another accident.'

A cry left your lips, and you tried moving past him, but he was like a steel wall. His hands went into your hair, then one grasped the back of your neck to pull your head back.

'This is how things are going to go...'

'No, Eunwoo, leave me alone!' You felt desperate to leave, knowing if you stayed you would give into him and be humiliated once more. Again, you struggled against his hold, but to no avail.

'Noona...' He drew out the dreaded word, mouthing the vowels against your dark cheek.

Suddenly, you had an idea. Talking back, struggling, and being passive weren't working, so you had to change tactics. You subtly palmed the keys in your jean pocket while stroking his cheek with your other hand. He shuddered, and loosened his hold.

'Interesting,' you thought to yourself.

You then caressed the sides of his torso, letting your fingertips dig into his slightly fleshy sides. He was startled, and moved slightly back.

This was your chance. Feinting left initially, you went to the right side towards the door. You miraculously made it to your little Volkswagen Beetle car, but before you could open it, Eunwoo's golden hand slammed against the blue paint next to the handle.

You looked back in horror at him.

'You know you're just adding to your punishment, right?' He smirked, and your heart sank.

------

I was able to get through some more questions; if I finish the set tomorrow, I'll write a (hopefully) good sm*t chapter next!

Thank you so much for reading, and for being part of my study journey ❤️

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

leona in club leadership

Me: I’m safe after the hitman that was Epel’s Birthday Jacket jumpscared me with the “Leona is a reliable senpai” talk Broomquet Leona: Broomquet Leona: *slowly raises the broom for a bonking*

why Why WHY

THGiS KeEEP S HAPPENinQ GgGggGggGGGGGGggggggg OTL wW E KJEEPA GETTIGN FL*ONA BEING A Goo D CAPTaiN SENAPI MENT0oe ER tPO HIS CLUB mQME MBers AND UNdERCLASMeN I'T S' DRIVXINw fG ME UP THE qm FUCKKERIQQaqBG gg gnK d WALLLLLLLLLLL

I THOUGHT I HAD PUT IT ALL BEHIND ME BUT NO 😭 HERE COMES CATER BAITING LEONA TO TAL K ABOUT AMGIFT /SPELLDrIV3 CLBU IN THS BROOMQUET......... . . ........ .. . ... . . . .. . QHJEBIYslbiufadbadf TO GET THESE THOUGHTS OUTTA MY HEAD I'M GONNA RANT A ND RAVE A LIL' aboUT L*ONA AND HIS cLUB

Alright, so. 🤡 We all know that Leona's the captain of the Magical Shift/Spelldrive Club at NRC (moving forward, I will refer to this as "Magift Club", since that's the shortest phrase). What's more is, we actually get quite a bit of information about how he goes around running the club and training its members (although the information is scattered across various vignettes, so it may be difficult to piece it all together if you don't know where to look or don't read certain vignettes). THIS IS THE GOOD STUFF THOUGH, THIS IS A GOLD MINE OF LuONA CHA EARCTERiXATION AND I'M GOINOG TO POP of DFF ABOUT IT

Firstly! In book 2 of the main story, Jack tells us that he was impressed by Leona's amazing play in a Magift game three years ago. This would later become a part of Jack's motivation to attend Night Raven College--so he could become a great athlete, and, perhaps, get to play against or alongside that player that he admired so much. Even when Jack learns that Leona is playing dirty to eliminated Diasomnia from the interdorm tournament, Jack exposes that he believes Leona is capable of securing a victory by playing fairly. Maybe you could call it a freshman's naive beliefs, but Jack knows that Leona is better than this. What book 2 shows us is that Leona is willing to resort to underhanded tactics to come out on top--but he's also very skilled in his own right, both physically and intellectually, and even at his lowest points, he has people who trust him to lead them: people like Jack. But where does this faith and respect come from???????? For that, we'll have to dive into additional materials.

In many vignettes, such as Ace's PE Uniform and Ruggie's Outdoor Wear, we hear from other characters that the Magift Club members train rigorously (usually to the point of exhaustion). Ruggie, a fellow Magift Club member, confesses to his inexperience; he never played Magift before coming to NRC and he's not a born athlete. He seriously considered quitting the club due to their physically demanding practice and training. However, Ruggie credits Leona for the vast improvement he has made, citing that Leona would give him all kinds of assignments to hone his skills. More importantly, doing all of these assignments also taught Ruggie how to endure and persist in the face of adversity. Ruggie could have just lied here and said the training was easy to quickly and artificially inflate the numbers of new recruits he pulls in to please Leona (some of the new recruits would end up dropping out anyway) BUT HE DOESN'T. This leads me to believe that Ruggie is being honest about what it takes to be in Magift Club and is genuinely praising Leona's guidance as a part of why it's beneficial to join. "Leona makes every session worthwhile [...] He makes all the calls during our games, but otherwise lets us do our thing. Which means we can work out our problem spots for ourselves. He's a great captain!"

Epel, the other main cast member in Magift Club, has not yet joined at the time of the flashback in Ruggie's Outdoor Wear vignette. Upon hearing Ruggie's praise of Leona, Epel gets the impression that Leona is an incredible person. Post-joining the club, this impression continues. In his Birthday Jacket vignettes, Epel describes Leona as someone who is quick-witted, fierce-looking, and has a cool personality. He really admires Leona and wants to be like him someday, making him the second first year that has these sort of sentiments. Epel tells stories similar to Ruggie, saying that Leona has helped him out a lot during club and is generally good at looking out for others. He specifically mentions that everyone counts on Leona for his leadership during games and provides individualized advice to help each team member improve (details which supports what Ruggie initially told the freshmen). People outside of Leona’s reign also comment on this, such as Ace in Endless Halloween Night. He remarks that the first thing Leona thought to do was untie Epel; this leads Ace to conclude that Leona, does, in fact, look out for people despite how he usually acts 🤡

Epel also says that he "knows" Leona would help him study if he were on the verge of failing a class. AND YOU KNOW WHAT??????????? Leona actually DOES tutor Ruggie (who initially descibes his grades as being "in the dumpster") and gives advice and materials to him. Now Ruggie's grades are average, but passing. In his Labwear vignettes, Leona doesn't formally teach Epel, but he does make a voice-changing potion to help Epel out (although his own ulterior motive was to avoid Rook, who was the one that originally helped Epel). When Epel and Grim then beg Leona to show them his technique, he refuses and seems annoyed at their requests. In other words, Leona doesn't seem eager to teach others unless it serves a purpose for himself.

Leons is oftentimes pushing others to perform well, and in a way that serves a dual purpose of helping the individual out but also ultimately benefitting him. For example, Leona helps sand Azul’s contracts because he wants to as terminate an agreement he has with Azul. Additionally, he plots in book 2 not only to help his dorm mates be noticed by Magift scouts, but also to prove his own worth as a leader. In yet another instance, Leona shows students outside of his club how to efficiently mine for magestone so they can fulfill their goal and earn a Vargas Badge. This clears them out of the cave so he can nap there. Leona is working smarter, not necessarily harder. Relating this to Magift Club... As Ruggie and Epel have told us, Leona runs his members ragged during practice. As a rich kid and royalty, he’s said to have a natural inclination for being demanding and ordering others around—but there’s always some kind of compensation or reward for following orders well. Ruggie gets many perks from doing Leona’s errands and chores for him, so he willingly follows Leona. For the Magift Club, the intense training causes those unable or unwilling to keep up to quit, leaving behind the go-getters, the tough, and the willful. Not only are these the types of people most likely to do well in actually playing the sport, but they’re also the types of people Leona himself is seeking with play with.

When your players are willing and able to train hard and by themselves (knowing what their strengths and weaknesses are, as well as how to improve), it encourages… independence. It means less work for the captain to do. It means having a group of people who are obedient and obey your every word. It means Leona can get away with napping during club practice. He's working them hard now so they can take care of themselves later and he has to do less. That seems to be the implication in some instances, as Riddle had noted before that, “it has been a while since [he has seen Leona] sincerely apply himself to his club activities.” (That's because Leona has already trained his team to be comfortable train on their own! This is demonstrated in the flashback of his Beastly Garb vignettes, when Leona instructs his club to do cooldown exercises "on their own while he heads off to nap.) And believe me, when he’s “applying himself”, his talent shines through (just as his intelligence does when he wants to employ it). As Epel and Ruggie say in Leona’s Halloween vignette (flashback), 5 people tried to get the disc away from Leona for 30 minutes and still weren’t successful while Leona barely broke a sweat. Part of the reason why Leona is able to afford bossing his team members around is because he can walk the walk. His own abilities, then, also serve as a point of motivation for the rest of the team. They want to be able to perform on the same level as him, want the honor to play with someone like that. We see one prominent example of this in his Dorm Uniform vignettes. In them, Jack is being bullied by Savanaclaw (senpai) mobs because they're annoyed with his athletic abilities and righteous attitude. These mobs also accurse Leona of being unworthy to lead them because "all [he does] is slack off during practice". They quickly learn the true magnitude of Leona's strength when he defends Jack from 30 mobs at once, not only demonstrating that he is fit for the title of captain, but also someone that has earned Jack's respect.

Though the Dorm Uniform vignettes ultimately frame Leona as siding with Jack, there is a lot of strategic thinking and wisdom in the advice he imparts to both parties involved in the quarrel. He argues in favor of the mobs "skirting the rules", which falls in line with his willingness to disregard morality so long as he achieves an end goal (see: his actions against Azul in book 3, and his actions in book 2 against Malleus). In this case, Jack preaching about playing by the rules is getting in the way of their goals (which will resurface in book 2). That's why he gets put in time-out to "think about his actions", and how he sees the world as black and white, evil and good. To Leona, it's not cheating, it's just playing smart and within the rules specifically specified (the mobs still acted within the boundaries set by rules) or what isn't specifically outlawed (they can't lose to Malleus if he can't play to begin with) to get what he wants. To this point, Leona also sees no shame in strategic retreats and surrenders. This is illustrated by him willingly turning himself into STYX when they approach, and passing on temporary leadership to Ruggie while he's gone. Again, he's just working with what he has in the systems that are presented to him, and he expects everyone else to be able to play the same game. While Leona tells Jack off, it's also true that Leona does have some code of honor as it relates to his own interests; he tells the mobs they're acting embarrassing by "punching down" and being jealous of a freshman. This doesn't come from a place of concern for Jack, or from worry about their attitude, but primarily from irritation that he has to clean up after their behavior. As we see in book 2, Leona himself has no issue with playing Magift against freshmen who are new to the sport (Ace, Deuce, etc.) when they've come unannounced into his dormitory. It's Jack who has to intervene there and call Leona out for picking on the small fry. Even Leona warning the mobs for using magic outside of Magift is a ploy to serve his own agenda. It's against school rules to use magic unless instructed; Leona is, therefore, against his students wailing on Jack using magic instead of fists because it could attract undue attention from staff (and thus cause issues for him, as their dorm leader). This is also why Leona wants to take on the Heartslabyul detective group in a game of Magift instead of just fighting them then and there; it's to avoid causing such a ruckus right before the big interdorm tournament. Leona has a problem with people challenging his authority and making unnecessary trouble for him to fix. When it serves his interests, he'll turn, and/or he won't side completely with one party. He can easily see the pros and the cons of both sides. If Jack is black and white, then Leona is all grey.

This is another notable quality of Leona's: he can identify and understand people's strengths and weaknesses, sometimes even better than they do themselves. His own club members can attest to how Leona gives them specific advice to improve their skills. In fact, we get to see one instance of it in Leona's Beastly Garb vignettes. Epel asks Leona for advice on how to better control the disc, since he's been missing passes and dropping them a lot. Leona responds by telling him not to worry about it and then walking off. A lot of people might look at this and say "he's just being lazy and shirking his work again". But later in the vignette, Leona explains his rationale: Epel's strength is his speed. When he's handling a disc as he's flying, that significantly cuts down on that speed and hinders his overall performance. If Epel tries to get better at all these things at once, he'll neglect his actual strength and not be useful to the team. Leona reasons that since making objects float is a fundamental skill for a mage, Epel will naturally practice it more and improve with time, so in the meantime he should dedicate his time in club to what he's already got as an asset.

This discerning eye is not just limited to club members, either. Leona has shown that, time and time again, he can key in on people. It was Leona who recognized Ace's craftiness and how Ace planned to use Leona's presence to his own advantage in Endless Halloween Night. Leona doesn't worry about the potential harm a wayward disc could have caused Riddle because he knows Riddle could easily deflect it with his own magic (in Ace's PE vignette). He alone noticed that Jamil's eyes "always glare" and senses his malicious intent against Kalim (in Jamil's School Uniform vignette). This is WAY before the events of book 4 ever came out too. Then, in book 6, Leona points out that Ruggie knows how keep to the strongest people to make up for his own deficits, how Jack knows how to adhere to a hierarchy, and how even Kalim has strengths in how amicable he is, and the wealth he was born into. He knows when people aren't meeting their full potential too, telling Jamil that he keeps making excuses instead of actually acting.

What makes the whole conversation Leona has with Jamil so great is that a lot of what is said is relatable for the two of them. Leona, too, knows what it's like to be in a situation where others shun his talents in favor of another. That's why he's able to speak so pointedly on the matter. It's that connection that helps to move Jamil and motivate him to finally act on his own to fulfill a support role for Leona that he needs later on. There's a parallel here with how Leona acted in book 2; he tried and tried and tried, and when he failed, he sat down and gave it all up, blaming his team mates and claiming he played along with their game. Leona was a quitter before. But now he's seeing that same behavior in others and he's calling it out, bluntly posing the question of if they're going to continue to wallow or if they're going to pick themselves up and move forward. It's the same lesson that HE had to learn for himself. If you consider that his Dorm Uniform vignettes play out prior to book 2, it becomes even more fitting for his growth since he tells Jack back then: "[...] guys who own up to their mistakes are all right in my book. Keep at it and model that behavior for the rest of Savanaclaw." This is Leona owning up to his own mistakes. He never openly and formally apologizes what his wrongdoings or promised to "be better" (then again, some OB boys just don't), but he's making up for his past behavior by imparting the wisdom he learned with his peers, whether subconsciously (like, out of guilt) or consciously.

This all goes hand-in-hand with the high standards Leona has set for Magift Club. Cater asks him for the details of his club's training (in Leona's Broomquet), to which the birthday boy responds with a story about how a team member didn't have enough stamina for a game, so instead of training them to pass the disc, he purposefully chucked the disc as far as it would go. It's to demonstrate to the club member that was lacking in stamina that this is the distance they need to be able to go, and this is their current disparity. It comes off as perhaps too harsh (and certainly a means to quit the club), but as Leona puts it, he doesn't want nor need cowards with him. His team should be full of people who get frustrated when they cannot meet their goals and will actively think about how to be better, then come back and try again and again. Think of it like how Mulan found smarter ways to tackle the challenges put forth by the army, rather than training the conventional way. That's what Leona expects of his club members, and it's the same mentality that drives himself. Tackling the same problem using creative solutions--it's like a game of chess. qbkhldyuFVYOwovyifS ;fslh ihof Aana dnAn thEN MCaER T SAYS smsethbha TH LIKE "waaaah~ Leona-kun is such a cool leader~" AFSHYJASVYOIFADOS AND THANE THAT FUCKE R LONA ' JUST G oeaS "this is to be expected of every leader, it's the basics" UNM???????? ??? ??? ???? ? BITCH EXCUSE YOU???? ???? ??? ? ? ? ? ? 😭 IW ANS'T EXPEC TING TO BE FUCXKIGFN A ATTACKED LKIKE THIS, CA T MAN

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P.S. I'M SO SCARE D THAT HE'S GONNA OUTRPAVE ROOO K ON MY FAOVRIRTS LIST I'M SOC UFKC IUNG SCARED

[britcision]

Guys I dunno how to tell you this this is my favourite fucking chapter so far and before this one the last one was

I know it looks like we’re getting distracted and side tracked off on tangents but I’m having the time of my fucking life and more than half of my favourite bits weren’t in the plan

(We’re still on track and makin’ our way but oh boy the funniest things are all accidents)

AO3 link is as ever still on the first couple of chapters!

First:

Previous:

———————

That’s Not A Twink That’s An Anime Girl

They did eventually have to let Dick out of his snow drifts.

As a former circus acrobat, Dick had the best excuse of all of them to use his vigilante training in public; he’d wormed out of Jason’s grasp, flipped over Duke and made a run for it.

Unfortunately for him, gravity was actually literally optional for Danny, and Danny didn’t even have a superhero identity to protect in Gotham.

He could turn a lot more easily on the slick ice and snow to give chase, a little flight added when friction failed him. On his own, Danny would have probably had to actually fly to take Dick down.

Of course, odds of eight-to-one would weigh on any man. Not a single member of the group wasn’t thoroughly soaked by the hour’s end, sweat under clothes and snow clinging over them.

The journey up to Wayne Manor ended up being done in chunks as the sun began to sink and the cold set in for their more human friends.

Jason, Danny, Duke, and Tim had to go back to the mall to retrieve motorbikes.

(Technically Danny didn’t actually need to, but what he did need was an excuse to get Jason alone for a minute, and he’d put up with snickering from Sam and Tuck to do it.)

Steph, Cass, Damian, Sam, and Tucker called for a cab rather than pack themselves into Dick’s now snow filled car, and their numbers were excuse enough for Danny to slip away.

Which is when Tucker realised he could have probably hitched a ride on Tim’s bike, and spent the whole journey hugging Tim Drake-Wayne.

Buuuuut it’d also mean riding a motorcycle through slushy snow. The dilemma on his face made Danny grin all the way back to the mall, despite the damp now clinging to his clothes.

Sure, the car might reach the manor first and they’d get warm and dry, but that just meant Tucker’d miss out on more Tim Time.

The snowball fight had clearly done Tim good too, he was much more energised as they walked back to the mall, complaining to Danny and the others about Amity Park’s underhanded tactics.

Danny sure as fuck wasn’t going to apologise, but he did have a much more important question: how the fuck did Jason do that landshark-disappearing-into-snow bullshit?

Which… well, was also a chance to fuck with Tim and Duke.

“Seriously Jay, I can go intangible but that snow trick was bullshit,” Danny complained with a wicked glee in his heart, reflected in Jason’s grin.

Tim nearly tripped over his own feet. Duke caught him, his own eyes wide.

“You can what?!” Tim asked in a slightly strangled voice, and Danny gave him his most innocent smile.

“Oh, has Dick not told you? Yeah, it’s one of my things, from the generic end of the list,” he explained casually, turning his arm intangible and phasing it through Jason.

Who made a face.

“Okay but why does it feel like that left a residue?” The larger man complained, scrubbing at his shirt.

Which. Danny paused, frowning down at his hand. Stuck it through his own chest experimentally.

“Y’know, I didn’t know it did that… not like I go through myself often, but I can definitely feel it,” he agreed, sticking his tongue out as he wiggled his hand around, then drew it back.

Duke and Tim looked fascinated and nauseated respectively. Danny gave them both a cheerful shrug and kept walking.

“It’s probably my pit water,” he theorised, and Jason groaned loudly.

“Danny, did you just fucking mix our forbidden smoothies?” He complained loudly, and Duke damn near choked himself on a strangled laugh.

Danny fully had to stop and turn to stare at Jason, delighted awe on his face.

“Oh, I’m calling it that forever. That’s my new favourite thing. Skulker is going to shit his entire liver when he hears “forbidden smoothie”,” he decided gleefully.

Jason smirked and bumped shoulders as he passed, forcing the others to keep moving to keep up. Duke almost jogged to lean around Jason and give Danny a curious look.

“Who’s Skulker?” He asked innocently and Danny grinned at him.

“Oh, one of my rogues. He likes to talk a big game but he’s pretty easy to deal with. All bark, no bite,” Danny explained cheerfully.

Honestly he was a little surprised Skulker hadn’t shown up in Gotham to bother him yet. He must have been having a hard time finding a portal, because it’s not like he’d stop.

Tim and Duke did seem a little reassured by his casual dismissal, but still concerned. Jason cut them off before they could ask anything that might be useful.

Yeah, Jason was kinda Danny’s favourite.

“So how the fuck do I get your smoothie out of my jug?” He asked with an overly disgusted face. Danny fought not to laugh.

“You are so asking the wrong person dude, I didn’t know it happened until just now,” he pointed out and Jason rolled his eyes.

“I’m taking at least six showers when we get to the manor,” Jason grumbled melodramatically, and Danny laughed aloud.

Then paused.

“Wait, how many bathrooms are there? Can we all shower?” He asked Tim and Duke.

Neither of whom looked ready to admit they didn’t know what was going on. Fuck Jason knew his family well.

Duke shrugged, the mall finally coming into sight, and diverted towards the underground parking.

“Well, there’s enough for one each. And Alfred could do laundry for you so you can change right after if you take a long one,” he offered, glancing down at his own now damp clothes.

Best part of a snowball fight: changing back into something warm and dry.

Danny snickered, plucking at Jason’s oversized sweater.

“The way you assume I’m wearing a single thing that I actually own is adorable,” he told the younger man sincerely, grinning as his cheeks heated.

Sure, it was more subtle on dark skin than Danny’s light tan, but he’d been friends with Tucker since he could walk. He knew exactly what to look for.

Was not quite ready for it to be combined with a sly grin right back.

“What, nothing of yours?” He asked suggestively and Tim laughed, quickly catching on.

“Did Jason give you everything?” He asked teasingly, both younger Wayne wards now grinning at their older brother.

Jason’s little pink blush was definitely still Danny’s favourite. He grinned right back, refusing to follow them to a place that didn’t exist.

“Some of it’s probably yours,” he told Tim blithely, tugging at his sweatpants. Which, as predicted, immediately changed Tim’s expression to annoyance.

“Why is everyone wearing my pants today?” Tim grumbled, and Danny’s grin widened.

“They looked a little tight on Tucker if you wanted to help him take them off,” Danny teased and Tim levelled a dry stare at him.

“I do have a boyfriend,” he pointed out coolly, like that was gonna stop turnabout from being fair play.

“Ask him to come help then,” Jason cut in, ruffling Tim’s hair, “you know Connor’s always welcome for dinner.”

For a long moment Tim’s expression froze, clearly actually considering the suggestion. Then he shook his head, sighing and calling the elevator.

“Probably not today. What floor do you guys need?” He asked as the doors slid open, stepping inside.

Quiet day at the mall. Probably the fucking cold, combined with hangovers from the new year.

And as much as Danny was thirsting to ask about that, he also very much needed Jason alone before they got on the road. Hopefully they weren’t on the same level.

“Two,” Jason said, and Tim nodded, hit two and then four. Looked to Duke. Who grinned.

“Three. Sorry Tim, you’re taking the scenic route.”

And for once the universe worked in Danny’s favour. Something fucked would probably happen soon to compensate.

He and Jason left the elevator together, waited til the doors slid back shut, and then headed off towards the bike. Danny didn’t make him ask.

“She’s definitely liminal. Not like, bad? Honestly she wouldn’t even register back in Amity Park. Damian’s is a bit worse, but he’s younger, it happens. Ecto energy likes kids,” he explained when Jason made an inquisitive noise.

He definitely wasn’t bitter or anything. He’d been just young enough to take it in like a magnet.

His parents probably wouldn’t have survived the same accident.

“It’s kinda the only thing horror movies get right. Ectoplasm can form from emotional energy, and little kids, they feel everything that much more. Tapers off when you get older, so Damian’s still a magnet. Cass is stable.”

He kinda wished he had better news, but honestly? After a dunk in the kind of rancid ectoplasm Jason described, Danny was taking it as a win that neither of the others were haunted.

Jason nodded gruffly, pausing beside his bike to pull his helmet back on. Not that it’d stop Danny from reading his mood; his aura pulsed stress-stress-stress-worry like a beacon.

Danny stepped closer, resting a hand on Jason’s shoulder, stilling the movement.

“They’ll both almost definitely become ghosts if they die again,” he explained softly, voice low enough to pass unheard in the echoing space, “but they’ll be fine. Think of it like insurance; you’re never going to lose them.”

Jason snorted, the sound distorting strangely through the helmet, but didn’t pull away.

“Is that what you tell yourself about Sam and Tucker?” He asked, trying to sound derisive but there was a tinge of hope there now.

Danny gave him a gentle wave of sorry-sorry-comfort back.

“Yeah.”

**

Back in the elevator, Tim looked at Duke expectantly. Who sighed.

“I am not a fuckin’ pokedex, Tim,” he reminded the older boy with a roll of his eyes. Which his brother totally ignored, still waiting.

Tim could fucking stare like nobody’s business.

The elevator chimed again and Duke stepped out, not the least surprised when Tim followed.

“I dunno. I thought I almost caught something in the park, but it was just a blur. Tucker and Sam both have more of an aura than Danny, but Danny’s clearly something. I just dunno if it’s a meta gene,” he explained reluctantly, and Tim nodded, already adding the information to his wrist computer.

Which he wasn’t supposed to wear out of costume.

Duke wasn’t gonna tell; he’d be a damn hypocrite if he did, he wore his Signal boots with the bike half the time. They were just much more responsive than normal boots.

“What makes you say that?” Tim asked, still typing away. It’d save Duke from having to add it all to his report, so it kinda counted as a favour.

Duke shrugged, still trying to narrow down the feeling.

“Honestly? Most people with the same meta gene fuck up a little the first time they show off around me. It’s the x-metals; I boost them, whatever they’re doing goes too hard.” Tim’d been the one to help him work that out, but it would all go in the report.

Tim nodded, gesturing for him to continue and Duke sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“Danny… didn’t. Unless that’s the residue they were both talking about, and if the fucking Lazarus Pits can cause intangibility we have got to warn Bruce. But that’s not the only thing,” he added quickly, before Tim could speak.

The older boy quieted obediently, but Duke could see he had his thinking face on. Putting pieces together, all those wheels turning as one.

That was practically a fuckin’ meta ability, and it wasn’t like Tim got a boost from him either. Maybe Duke needed to do some more experimenting.

“Most metas, even the nonhuman ones, have at least some aura. Some of them can hide it, but I can get a feel for their powers from it. Danny… I dunno. I can almost feel something, but I can’t see it.”

That was the thing that unsettled Duke the most, honestly. Almost all of his powers were purely light based; seeing what other people couldn’t. Even his shadow manipulation still worked around light.

It was fucking weird for there to be anything he couldn’t see, and he could go way beyond the visible spectrum. Whatever Danny emitted, it went beyond even that.

For a guy who could even see a little into the future, it was weird.

And since Danny had showed off flight, super strength, and intangibility already? And called them the generic end of the list?

Duke was definitely leaning on the “extreme control of his aura” side of the equation.

Tim looked concerned too, which was kind of validating. It kinda sucked being the expert on things no one else could understand, because Duke always worried he was overreacting, but if Tim tagged it too? Well that was validation.

“The only bit of good news is that we can probably rule out the pits as the source of his abilities,” Tim muttered as he scanned back through his notes so far.

“They coulda been trauma activated by his death in the same way as a meta gene,” Duke pointed out thoughtfully, leaning back against the wall.

It wasn’t like they were racing home, and until someone else came down the elevator? No rush. Tim had another floor to descend anyway.

Tim himself shrugged, adding another couple of notes to his file.

“It’s definitely possible, but even if it was a million-to-one chance, I can’t imagine Ra’s keeping quiet about something this useful, or letting someone like Danny run around if he had any idea he existed,” Tim explained, making a face.

And… yeah, no point trying to argue with Tim about Ra’s al Ghul. Duke pulled a face too and sighed.

“Well, he still seems pretty sure we’ll know all about it if we can get into Amity Park. Or when Jason decides to fucking tell us,” he added with a roll of his eyes.

Tim glanced up at him, smirking.

“You noticed too?” He asked innocently, and Duke snorted. Reading Jason’s micro-expressions might not be a survival skill exactly, but it was still a bat family hobby.

“He definitely fucking knows!” He complained, the switch from Professional Hero to Baby Brother getting easier and easier as time passed.

He still had his own parents, he didn’t need Bruce to adopt him, but he’d been an only child for most of his life. Having a new army of big brothers and sisters? Kinda ruled.

And he knew most of the others felt the same. They’d all be alone in their own ways, and the stubborn independent streaks were still there, but…

It was good to know someone had your back. That no matter what happened, how the adults in your life fucked you over, you could always go to Dick’s in Bludhaven.

Could always call Jason to bitch about whatever you needed off your chest, and yeah, there was always the worry that he really meant it when he said he’d “take care” of your problem? But he also listened when they said no.

Hell, it’d been Jason’s couch that Duke had crashed out on about a year ago, back when Jason was still damn near on the Big Bat’s no fly list.

He’d been on his way to school for the start of his winter semester when an absolutely blinding migraine took him to his knees. For whatever reason, Jason had been close.

Duke hadn’t even been able to glance at his phone to call for help; even opening his eyes a crack felt like he was being blinded. He’d barely recognised Jason’s voice asking if he was alright.

Hell, back then he hadn’t known if Jason recognised him out of costume. They’d always had a more friendly relationship than Jay did with the other bats, but this had been just after Jason finally texted Dick back.

Back when Red Hood would take a casual shot at any mask crossing into his turf. Not to hit, but a definite reminder of the border.

And Jason had lifted him bodily and carried him into Crime Alley. Put him on his couch to sleep it off in pitch darkness, and made him some of the best home made soup Duke had ever had.

Duke got why the older teens were still a little wary. He’d seen the Pit Rage live and in person, and it was fucking terrifying. It just wasn’t all Jason was.

And yeah, the family also had a whole army of fellow teens who’d know exactly what you were talking about, between Steph, Tim, Cass, and Duke himself. Even Damian, as much as he pretended not to care.

Kate and Babs were always willing to spread their wings out and give them all a place to shelter. And hell, if adult supervision was needed, they even had Harley, Ivy, or Selina.

Duke may not want to be a Wayne, but he’d take everything the bat family offered with both hands.

Tim sure as hell had not adjusted from being the baby to being third oldest though. He gave a huge heaving groan to match Duke’s own, flopping back against the wall.

“I know, right! And he knows we don’t know shit. He’s just enjoying watching us scramble cuz he knows we can’t just tell Danny we don’t know,” he grumbled, scrubbing both hands through his hair.

Duke hesitated.

“We… probably could just tell Danny,” he said slowly, brows furrowing. “It’s not like he doesn’t want us to know.”

Tim gave him a sidelong look.

“Yeah, after we admit we didn’t even manage to google him. Y’know, the kid who clocked Dick’s identity from his ass,” he added dryly.

Duke hesitated again, brows furrowing.

He knew that shouldn’t matter. Knew the smart move really was to ask for help sometimes. Knew damn well that it was Tim’s stubborn streak that kept him in the cave all night, while Tuck, Steph, and Cass watched movies upstairs.

Finally he let his head drop, sighing.

“The longer we wait the dumber we look if we have to ask later,” he warned Tim but his heart wasn’t in it.

It didn’t matter that Jason was probably the only member of the family with all the pieces; whoever caved and asked for help first? Yeah, social suicide.

Tim shook his head, pushing off the wall and scowling out into the rest of the garage.

“It’ll be fine. I’ll talk to Tucker about the Amity Park problem tonight and we’ll know by morning.”

Which… Duke hid a smile.

Asking Danny? Definitely cheating, worthy of scorn and derision.

Asking Tucker? Apparently completely different. Although technically he wouldn’t be asking Tucker for the same information.

Just admitting the exact same fault.

Pulling his keys from his pocket, Duke turned and wiggled them at Tim as he headed for his bike.

“Hey, if you hurry you could try to beat Danny and Jason to the manor. Get to Tucker first,” he added, grinning as Tim hit the call for the elevator.

The shorter boy rolled his eyes, waving a hand in Duke’s general direction.

“I’ll get to him once everyone’s warmed up. He wanted a look at my set up last night anyway,” he said almost off handedly.

Duke’s grin spread.

“Oh hey, that’s perfect! Just take him to your bedroom after you’ve both just been wet and naked and show each other your most private parts!” He called loudly, wondering if any of the supers were listening.

They’d find out soon.

Tim choked, blushing cherry red and spun to yell something after Duke just as the elevator doors opened. Duke waved cheerily back, turning away to head for his motorcycle.

“See you at the manor Timmy!”

**

Reconvening at Wayne Manor was… well, chaotic. Even more so than the gala the night before, though that might have been because this time, none of them had a firm plan.

Jason and Danny arrived first, greeting Alfred on the way in. The butler was not hugely impressed by the “foresight” which had led to a snowball fight when Danny was wearing an oversized sweater, sweatpants, and little else.

Any protestations that Danny was fine and was normally this cold anyway quavered under an archly raised brow and Danny privately swore never to let Clockwork meet Alfred.

They would get along far too well.

And that’s how Danny ended up actually using one of the spare bathrooms while Jason, who had worn a proper coat and thus escaped Alfred’s wrath, grabbed him a change of clothes.

The fact that this once again included one of Jason’s shirts, when Tim, Dick, Duke, and Steph all existed and also had spare clothes here, felt a little targeted.

It hung from Danny’s shoulders like a kid in his dad’s clothes, but Jason was probably also the only one with a shirt that said “Soup Powered Fuck Machine”, and the bit was fucking worth it.

Danny tied off most of the excess fabric into something just a bit longer than a crop top and settled in to drink hot chocolate with Jason and Duke and wait for the others to come back down.

(Which, by the way? Best hot chocolate he’d ever tasted. He was stealing the recipe 1000%, it was so rich and creamy and thick and had grated curls of chocolate on top of the whipped cream.)

Any lingering questions Duke might have been hiding about the shirt? Answered themselves when Tucker walked into the room, saw Danny, and laughed so hard he wound up in the fetal position.

Yeah, Jason was never getting this shirt back.

This was Danny’s shirt now. He was gonna wear it for his next fight with his rogues.

Sam actually did have her own clothes, so she’d accepted the offer of laundry while she showered (though she was a little annoyed the laundry room was so far from any of the bathrooms that she couldn’t do it herself), so she’d rejoined them in a mix of Steph and Cass’s clothes while she waited.

She had also been unable to keep a straight face upon seeing Danny’s new country girl fashion statement, rolling her eyes and punching his shoulder as she dropped to sit next to him.

“We call the thermos Soup Time,” she explained when Cass cocked her head curiously… which probably actually confused the rest of the bats a little more.

“The thermos you threw at Killer Croc?” Dick asked, still towelling his hair dry.

Sam raised a very slow eyebrow at him, her smile toning down to a smug smirk.

“Yeah, sure, I definitely threw it at Croc,” she agreed dryly and Dick cackled, throwing his towel down on Tucker’s still curled body.

Without even seeming to open the door Alfred appeared with another tray of hot chocolates, handing them out to those who hadn’t yet gotten one and taking back empty mugs.

He even had a second hot chocolate for Danny, who was going to marry the man. Even if he was old enough to be his grandpa.

Maybe Tucker did have a point about trying to get into the Wayne family for the perks… which Danny was never going to stop teasing him about, now that he and Tim were getting on so well. Boy could make his own ins, he didn’t need Danny.

Even Tucker roused himself for a mug though, crawling out from under Dick’s towel, glancing at Danny, and bursting out laughing again. Still, this time he could keep himself steady enough to stand, take the mug, and join Tim on another couch.

Alfred gave a quick glance around the room, probably counting heads, and cleared his throat.

The assorted vigilantes quieted immediately, and Danny’s respect for the old man grew just a little. It was already pretty fucking high. Not much more room to rise.

And somehow that perfectly serene, composed face managed to convey a deep sense of satisfaction.

“I am afraid we are presently waiting only on Master Bruce to begin dinner. If you would all proceed to the dining room?” It was phrased as a polite request.

The Wayne brood leapt to like it was an order. Danny pressed his lips shut on a laugh as he followed, catching Sam’s eye to see her grinning.

Up in front, Dick hurried to walk alongside Alfred.

“Oh, is Brucie not home? Or do you want me to go dig him up?” He asked brightly, and Alfred gave him a tight smile, pushing open the door to the fucking plainest most normal dining room Danny’d ever seen in a mansion.

Sure, the table was huge, but rather than being ornate, heavy, or flashy, it looked to be hard wearing oak. Clean, well polished, and not even that polish could hide the dents.

The chairs too were comfortable, nice, and a lot more tasteful than the Manson’s or Vlad’s. Well padded, well used, but not… fancy. Even the walls were simple, the elaborately framed portraits and art pieces on the wall replaced with…

What looked like kid’s drawings. Framed, cherished, and it clicked.

No chance in hell that this was the manor’s formal dining room.

The table was huge, but not that big with the number of people in the room. More than half of it was filled with just the kids, and sure there was space for the Amity Parkers, but not a larger group.

This was the family dining room. And that was fucking adorable.

Steph’d definitely walk him through every picture on the walls to help him find Jason’s. Today was going to be great.

He almost completely missed Alfred’s reply to Dick.

“I’m afraid not, master Dick. He was expected back nearly two hours ago, and yet…”

Even deep within the manor no one could have missed the sound of the front door slamming open, and anyone who did would have been alerted by the bellowing yell that followed.

“OOOOOOOH BRUCIE! I TOLD YA WHAT’D HAPPEN IF WE HAD TO HAVE THE BOUNDARY TALK AGAIN!” An extremely loud, very chipper given… well, everything voice filled the room.

The Gothamites’ heads all snapped around with expressions ranging from delight to exasperation.

“How the fuck did she get here so fast,” Duke hissed, leaning in towards Tim, but not far enough that Danny couldn’t hear, “weren’t she and Ivy in Brazil?”

Tim, definitely the exasperated one, gave a helpless shrug. Whatever he replied with was lost under Dick, bellowing back with clear glee in his voice.

“FAMILY DINING ROOM, HARLS! FIRST HALL ON YOUR LEFT!”

So, they were all going to meet Harley Quinn today. That’d be fun. Danny had always wondered what she was like in person, and apparently she was a close enough friend of the Waynes to be welcomed in.

Sam and Tucker’s faces would be fun.

Alfred’s was a perfect mask of patience that even Clockwork would envy, and he had already pulled a new place setting from a chest of drawers.

It didn’t take Harley long to find them, striding down the hall wearing some fucking unseasonal shorts, a baggy long sleeved sweater, and her trademarked blonde pigtails with the pink and blue tips.

And a bedazzled baseball bat slung casually over her shoulder, just in case anyone missed the mark.

She greeted Dick with a kiss on the cheek, then chased down as many of the others that hadn’t immediately fled to the other side of the table. Barring Damian, none of them seemed to mind.

Jason had made an attempt to flee, but no. No, that wasn’t happening, and Danny “accidentally” got in his way. Boxed him in between chair and table, grinning all the while until Harley made her way to them.

“And there he is! My poor suffering boy!” Harley cooed, cupping both of Jason’s cheeks in her hands and yanking his head down with a lot more force than a woman her size should have been capable of, pressing a large smooch on each cheek.

For all the glares he shot Danny, he managed an almost sheepish smile for the woman herself.

“I’m fine, Harley. Really. You didn’t need to come,” he protested with absolutely none of his heart in it, a pink flush rising to complement the sparkly pink lipgloss smooch marks.

“Nonsense, baby boy, if Brucie needs his head pulled from his ass I’m always here,” Harley told him firmly, patting his cheeks and rounding on Danny.

It was kinda less funny now that she was bearing down on him, all of her airhead dramatics belied by the piercing, analytical stare she pinned him with.

“Huh, did Brucie pick up a new one while we were gone? It’s been like a week, we’ll talk about his adoption issues too,” Harley declared firmly, snagging Danny by his collar and yanking him in for a cheek smooch too.

And yeah, holy shit, she really was a lot stronger than she looked. Like, almost ghostly levels of super strength.

Batman’s “no metas in Gotham” rule was looking flimsier and flimsier, cuz while she’d been a rogue in the past, this? This was not a rogue’s welcome, and Danny actually did like most of his rogues.

Just not “kisses on the cheek”, although the grabbing and pulling was familiar.

Still, better not let Vlad know. Wouldn’t do for him to feel too welcome in Gotham.

Harley released him a moment later to give him a dazzling smile.

“Hi, you’re a little older than most of Brucie’s new kids but that’s fine, I’m your Aunt Harley now and if you ever need any help with anything, especially getting Brucie’s ass in line, you just call me, okay doll?” She told him firmly.

Jason was fucking grinning at him over her head, and it just plain wasn’t fair that he was a whole head taller than them. Danny flipped him off behind her back, and gave the woman herself a sheepish smile.

“Actually, I’m not one of Bruce’s, I’m just-“

“Jason’s-boyfriend,” Steph stage coughed behind him.

Harley’s eyes widened, Danny had a go at kicking blindly behind him and hurried to correct her.

“Just Jason’s friend,” he stressed the word and suddenly those almost frighteningly piercing eyes were roaming across his face again.

It was like if Jazz had been dunked in a vat of glitter but could still see right through him. Then Harley grinned again and patted his cheek.

“Sure thing, sugar. Still, if you stick around long enough Brucie’ll make a go of it, so be careful,” she warned him cheerfully, then lunged for Steph, got her in a headlock, and smooched pink lipgloss into freshly washed hair.

Danny couldn’t help chuckling softly as Harley scanned the room, clocked a bemused Tucker and wide eyed Sam, and her eyes narrowed for a moment.

Then she nodded, apparently deciding they probably also weren’t new niece and nephew, and skipped back over to Alfred.

“So! Not that this ain’t great, but ya clearly got some company over so if ya could just point me towards the B-man I’ll borrow him right quick?” She offered with a broad grin, not actually grabbing Alfred.

Up went the respect-o-meter again. Restraining Harley Quinn was hard for seasoned heroes, her restraining herself? None of the birds could claim that apparently.

Alfred gave her the same polite smile, setting her a place at the table.

“I’m afraid Master Bruce has not yet returned from his lunch appointment, Miss Quinzel. He should be returning shortly if you would care to join us for dinner?” It almost didn’t seem like a question, given what he was doing.

Harley waved a hand easily, making a face that was almost apologetic.

“Oh, nah, I’ll just go get ‘im for ya and send ‘im back over. Maybe with some new bruises,” she added almost as an after thought, then shrugged and grinned. “So! Where’d ya last see ‘im?”

It seemed like their missing Brucie problem was about to be solved, and the rest of the Gothamites were now taking their seats around the table.

Tucker, who’d cautiously followed Tim’s retreat around the table after Harley’s chaotic entrance, was now sat between Tim and Damian, and probably regretting his life choices.

Sam, whose parents hadn’t actually specifically forbidden her from speaking to Harley, seemed to be trying to make up her mind about something. Probably going to talk to Harley directly.

Steph and Jason had considerately left two spots in between them as they sat, and Danny let himself drop into the chair next to Jason as Alfred answered.

Well. Nearly into the chair.

“Master Bruce’s lunch appointment was approximately four hours ago in a private room at Chez Vous with one of our gala’s guests, a Vlad Masters.”

Yeah. Danny missed the chair, thunking all the way to the floor with a startled squawk.

“He fucking WHAT?!” He exclaimed, yanking himself back up, staring around the table at the equally startled Waynes.

Like they hadn’t spent the first part of the gala telling these people specifically that Vlad was a fucking mind controlling sociopath who was targeting their dad. What the hell.

Alfred raised an eyebrow very slowly at him, concern now creeping into his expression.

“He went to met Mr Masters in a private room for a late lunch, Mister Fenton. I am not aware of any other plans, but-”

And Danny was probably committing a cardinal fucking sin by interrupting him but he couldn’t hold in the groan, sinking down into the actual chair this time and thunking his head off the table.

Across the table, Tucker snickered at him.

“Let me guess. You forgot Vlad was still in town?” He asked, and Danny let out another utterly heartfelt groan.

“I forgot Vlad was still in town,” he whined as Jason stifled an entirely inappropriate bout of laughter.

There was one more important piece of business though, and Steph jumped straight to it.

“Wasn’t someone supposed to warn Bruce about Masters last night, so this couldn’t happen?” She asked in a low voice, leaning into the middle of the table.

Tim made a face, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I said I would, but… I got distracted…”

By beating his brains out against Amity Park’s ghostly firewalls apparently, and Danny did feel kinda bad for completely forgetting to mention that. In his defence, he hadn’t technically known that the Batcomputer was not ghost virus proof.

Should have guessed. Hadn’t known.

Tucker, who still had no idea about the vigilante thing, was quick to reassure Tim.

“You had a medical emergency, of course you were distracted,” he said quickly, patting the younger man carefully on the shoulder and glaring at the other assembled Wayne brood, “and any of them coulda mentioned it too!”

Dick raised a hand with a half smile that was mostly apology.

“Actually… Bruce went straight to Tim’s side after the gala. Think he stayed all night, but I never actually saw him. We coulda texted though,” he added sheepishly as the rest of the family made general noises of agreement.

Except Duke, who shrugged.

“I only learned about Masters when I met you guys this morning,” he pointed out, and Danny kinda doubted that but Duke had missed the original Masters debrief so he had the best excuse.

Alfred stepped closer to the table, and for the first time his presence actually registered as something other than the polite, nigh-unnoticeable model of efficiency.

Which probably meant he’d picked up on Danny’s super subtle hints that the situation was not fucking good. Good for him.

“And precisely what information was supposed to be shared with Master Bruce?” He asked, still politely, still calmly, but there’s a hint of warning that had most of the table stiffening up.

Tucker answered, giving Alfred an apologetic smile.

“Vlad Masters is a super creep and probably using his mind control powers to try and make Mr Wayne sign over everything he owns,” he explained easily, like it was nothing.

Harley’s eyes had widened, but she didn’t seem overly worried, just shouldered her bat again.

“So it’s also gonna be a rescue mission, huh? Vladdie a local boy or are they still gonna be in the same place?” She asked, the rest of the table tensing as one.

Because yeah. Next step was extract Bruce, and kick Vlad’s ass, and probably maybe try and get any contracts Bruce had signed in four hours? Which could now be anywhere.

Sighing heavily, Danny hauled himself to his feet. Feeling like a fucking idiot aside, he probably should have already left. He was pretty sure he knew where Chez Vous was?

“No, you guys stay put, I’ll go get him,” he said as cheerily as he could, cracking his neck.

Harley’s brows drew down in a frown and she prodded him with the bat.

“No offence kid, but ya look like a stiff breeze will flip ya over. You’re not going alone,” she told him firmly, and yeah, Danny could also feel Jason damn near vibrating from beside him.

Concern-worry-protect-coming too.

Putting a hand on the big guy’s shoulder before he could rise, Danny pushed just enough to keep him in his seat. Felt the moment of shock course through the much bigger man, and his grin became just a little more genuine.

“Sorry but if any of you come along, you’ll only make it harder for me to get Bruce back safely. Vlad’ll just take you guys over and make you fight me. I really wouldn’t worry too much though, he’s never actually beaten me,” he added with a reassuring smile.

Sam snorted a laugh, dropping into the empty seat beside Steph and crossing one leg over the other. Reassuring the Gothamites with her own complete lack of moving.

“Yeah, Danny’s been cleaning his clock since he was fourteen and it’s something like 700-5. You’d think he’d give up eventually,” she added, rolling her eyes.

Cuz yeah, Vlad might have gotten the upper hand through sneaky traps a bunch of times, but in a straight fight? Danny usually won, even before he had the power of the Infinite Realms at his back.

It wasn’t that all eyes turned to Harley. It was more that suddenly a bunch of them weren’t looking at her so pointedly they might as well have.

She regarded Danny and Sam a moment longer, then shrugged and dropped into the chair at the head of the table.

“Guess I’m stayin’ for dinner, or at least til Brucie’s back. And hey, it can be hard for folks ta come to terms with things like that. ‘Specially if they’re adults takin’ offence ta gettin’ their butt kicked by kids,” she added, a bright gleam in her eye.

Sam snickered, leaning back in her chair.

“Voice of experience?” She asked innocently and Harley tipped her a wink.

“Hell nah, you ever seen a Robin fight? ‘Sides, most of the folks who’ll shit a brick at bein’ beat by a kid get just as huffy at gettin’ beat by me,” Harley explained with a broad grin, flexing her own muscles.

It was just a little hilarious to see the differing reactions from the young vigilantes around the table.

Damian was still noticeably grumpy, though he almost felt more worried to Danny’s expert empathic eye. But then, his dad was in the lion’s den.

Dick and Tim looked like they were sharing an inside joke, and Danny had to figure they were the other Robins that went against Harley the most.

Steph, Cass, and Duke all looked decidedly self satisfied. Jason…

Jason was ignoring the rest of the table, still frowning up at Danny but not fighting his grip anymore.

“I should still come with you,” he argued like the rest of the conversation hadn’t happened, his voice low and urgent. And… yeah. Protection Obsession, 1000%.

And his Fright Knight now, fuck you very much Clockwork, but he was also not even fully formed. No way Danny was taking him to fight Vlad as his first ghost.

He gave Jason’s shoulder a quick squeeze, lowering his voice under the rest of the conversation.

“You’ll know if I need you, Jay, but Vlad used to be able to control me too. He’s not a great first run,” he explained softly.

Jason very clearly didn’t like it, brows drawing in even further, and Danny made his grin a little brighter by contrast. Brushed confidence-easy fight-be back soon across his aura.

“Besides, he’s more a sneaky fuck than an actual fighter. Not worth both of us heading out,” he tried, rolling his shoulders.

Jason raised an eyebrow, entirely unimpressed.

“By that logic it should be me going instead of you,” he pointed out, and Danny pouted. Fuck him for technical accuracy.

“Look, next time, okay?” He whispered, leaning in til his mouth was next to Jason’s ear. Tim was now watching them rather than Sam and Harley’s banter.

Perceptive little shit. But he wouldn’t catch shit if Danny covered his mouth to talk. For now, he had to persuade a cranky protective halfa not to go kick Vlad’s ass.

How the turntables and so on.

“Once you’ve got your powers in you can take him every time, alright?” He whispered, then leaned back and grinned at Jason. At least he wasn’t glaring anymore.

“I’ve got this. I’ll be fine,” he said as reassuringly as he could. And then. Pausing. “Uh… but I’ll probably… y’know. Do the thing to find him.”

Vlad couldn’t hide from Danny’s expanded aura, not without leaving this dimension. But that’d mean Jason also got another dose.

The understanding dawned across the big guy’s face, fell into a complicated expression. Finally he nodded stiffly.

“Fine. But leave it up so I know how it’s going?” He grumbled back, lips barely moving. Probably as a countermeasure for Nosy Little Brother.

Danny grinned and ruffled Jason’s hair, stepping away.

“Sure thing bud. I’ll be back with Bruce as soon as I can,” he said more loudly, more to the whole room, and let his aura flare out into the city until it touched Vlad’s.

Yeah, that beat trying to navigate the city from above for the second time ever.

A sudden absolutely awful impulse hit him, and his grin stretched just a little beyond what was humanly possible.

Why the fuck not? The reveal was gonna drop soon enough, Tuck and Sam already knew how much he wanted to show.

And most of the table were watching him.

Danny rolled his shoulders, cracked his neck, and had a brief moment of nostalgia. Because if he was being theatrical…

“I’m going ghost,” he called as loud as he could, letting the glowing rings of his transformation wash over him, changing him to Phantom in front of a table of gawking bats.

Then he jumped into the air and flew out of the manor through the wall, Sam and Tucker’s laughter ringing in his ears.

Now he just had to hope he could reach Bruce before Vlad did anything he couldn’t easily fix.

**

Tim was the first to speak. Other than the raucous laughter of the Amity Parkers the dining room had been dead silent since Danny’s… well, it was a transformation.

Reaching out blindly with his other hand, Tim caught Duke’s arm.

“You saw that, right?” He asked, his voice a little hoarse.

Duke nodded slowly, still staring at the wall Danny had just disappeared through.

“Not that I know what the fuck it was… but yeah…”

Because… yeah. They’d known Danny was some kind of meta at this point. Guy really wasn’t trying to hide it. But that was…

“What, you ain’t seen that before?” Harley asked from the head of the table, her voice filled with a sudden glee.

Across the table Jason snickered, and Tim’s attention zeroed back in on him.

He’d known. He’d stiffened up before Danny had transformed, still hadn’t fully relaxed and Tim could guess why. Whatever he’d told Danny to “leave up”.

It didn’t look like he was in pain, more like he’d braced himself for something that hadn’t fully happened yet. But since apparently all secrets were just on the table now…

Tim turned to Tucker.

“What the fuck was that?” He asked, and Tucker sighed happily, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes.

“An overdramatic little fuck?” Sam offered from the other side of the table, also still grinning. Tucker wheezed loudly, slumping back in his chair.

Tim shifted his attention to Sam instead, giving up on Tucker for now. To be fair, he was kinda surprised Jason wasn’t also laughing at them.

It must have made a comical scene.

“Obviously. But that… going ghost? What did he mean?” He pressed, leaning in across the table but not lowering his voice.

Sam and Tucker exchanged thoughtful looks, Tucker’s laughter fading to giggles as they clearly weighed their answers. Then Sam leaned in too, folding her arms on the table and leaning over them.

“How much were you actually able to look up about Amity Park?” She asked, and the rest of the table leaned in to listen.

Even Harley, thoroughly devoid of context, kept quiet for a change. She could smell a good story when she heard one.

And as much as it pained him to admit…

“Nothing at all,” Tim confessed with a brief shake of his head, eyes narrowed. “I couldn’t even find the weather account you showed us.”

Beside him Tucker took another deep, fortifying breath and steadied himself in his seat.

“Yeah… warned you about that. Any tech not actually from Amity needs a baseline level of ecto before it can get through the firewalls,” he explained, and as glad as Tim was to have him back in the conversation…

“But that isn’t how firewalls work,” he protested, knowing full well the other boy knew, “Facebook doesn’t have a separate server or separate firewalls for some small town in Illinois versus the larger world, and even if it has something to do with the IP…”

Tucker raised both hands quickly and Tim subsided, a little relieved to have been cut off. The frustration from last night was building again, and he really didn’t want to deal with that right now.

“Okay, you’re definitely right almost all of the time, but Amity Park’s is… different,” Tucker explained quickly, glancing around the table and almost immediately focusing his full attention back on Tim.

Dismissing the others as below the level needed to understand the conversation, or assuming they’d keep up on their own? They all could, none of the bats were slouches on cyber security, and the distinction didn’t matter to Tim.

Yet.

They were also probably all a little below Tucker’s own technical proficiency, from everything Tim had seen (and Steph and Cass’s admitted failure to break his server encryption).

(Oracle still hadn’t broken the same server.)

Tim nodded anyway, not willing to talk and slow the explanation any further.

They could have been doing this more than twelve damn hours ago.

“Firewall isn’t exactly the right term for it either, but about five years ago… well, we decided the rest of the world couldn’t know about a lot of things that happen in Amity Park. It wouldn’t be safe,” Tucker added, watching Tim’s face carefully.

He looked almost guilty. Like he could guess how much frustration this had caused Tim. Hell, if Danny knew their identities then Tucker, his guy in the chair almost certainly did too.

And since they weren’t pretending to all be civilians anymore…

“The GIW were already censoring the hell out of us,” Tucker continued, rolling his eyes, “it was actually really annoying. They actually did the IP thing, but you could VPN around that. But we didn’t want the rest of the world, other governments to come to the same bullshit conclusions about ghosts and keep causing trouble.”

“Ghosts like Danny,” Duke cut in, not a trace of doubt in his voice.

Tucker glanced past Tim for a moment and nodded.

“Pretty much, but Danny’s a special case. Most ghosts can’t actually do the magical girl transformation,” he added with a snicker, and Sam rolled her eyes, tapping the table for attention.

“What Tucker’s dancing around telling you is that what we call the Amity Park firewall is basically alive. It has nothing to do with IP addresses or any regular tech shit because it runs on ectoplasm.”

“It’s not actually alive,” Tucker cut back in with an exasperated huff, “it’s just something I came up with with some help from Technus. He’s the spirit of technology so he can possess computers, not people, and together we made a safety net.”

“All of Amity Park is saturated in natural ectoplasm,” Sam explained, ignoring Tucker’s pointed glare, “so now whenever someone’s trying to connect online to anything based in an Amity Park server, our ecto looks for your ecto in whatever device you have. No ecto, no data.”

“It’s not that simple,” Tucker whined, like this wasn’t already a level of complexity that made Tim’s head spin.

But it was the spinning that triggered an almost ignored memory.

“Ecto… that’s what Danny nearly said last night, when he was talking about the Lazarus Pits,” he said with a sudden sharp frown, attention jumping between the Amity Parkers and onto Jason.

Who shrugged. Like this wasn’t news. How the fuck had he even met Danny in the first place?

“Show of hands, who here’s surprised that the pit waters actually come from the land of the dead?” Jason asked dryly, gaze sweeping along the table.

Tim’s attention flashed directly to Damian and then Cass, the two of them sat on a full diagonal from each other. They were the closest thing the family had to experts.

Neither looked surprised, although Damian’s eyes were narrowed. New information then, and likely something he’d be looking more into. Cass just looked thoughtful.

Harley’s hand was up though, and the table gradually turned to its gravity. She shrugged.

“Had a bet with Ives that it was super tainted kool-aid. Not that we know much about it,” she added with a shrug, and Jason snickered.

“You’re half right anyway,” he told her and the raised hand was replaced by a pair of fists pumping into the air, but silently for once.

Even Harley wasn’t gonna interrupt a lore dump.

Jason returned his attention to Tim.

“Apparently the pits are made of contaminated ectoplasm. Super tainted,” he nodded to Harley, “because the regular stuff? Doesn’t bubble, doesn’t burn, and doesn’t kill people who touch it.”

Tim’s eyes narrowed for a moment, looking Jason over, hunting any trace of a lie. He’d made himself an expert on Jason’s features, on what every micro-expression might possibly mean.

Jason was a damn good liar, but Tim knew every tell that meant he spoke the truth.

Still, he glanced from Jason to Cass, sat on Jason’s other side. The Asian girl raised an eyebrow at him, then nodded.

Human lie detector confirmed. Good to know. Even if she was rolling her eyes at him for checking.

Duke leaned in further, half his body now hovering above the table as he grinned at Jason.

“So does that mean you’ve got ectoplasm in you, if you still have the pit rage?” He asked, which didn’t really seem like something to smile about.

Although not exactly worse than the idea of Jason just still having the pit in his veins. At least Jason didn’t seem to be really bothered by it.

He just shrugged.

“I guess so?” He offered suspiciously, his face still carefully neutral as he watched Duke. Whose grin broadened.

“So does that mean if you look up stuff on Amity Park you’ll get through?” He asked innocently. Jason rolled his eyes.

“I’m not a phone, Duke,” he said dryly, and Tucker snickered.

“It’s actually kinda funny you say that, cuz Danny’s been sucked into video games before,” Tucker said innocently, giving Jason a sidelong look.

Which… raised a couple of questions, since Jason didn’t seem embarrassed by it. Tim’s eyes narrowed for a moment.

“Is that something that could happen to Jason?” He asked cautiously, and for some reason Tucker actually laughed.

“Oh, it’s something that could happen to anyone,” he said sounding very smug, and Tim tore his attention off Jason to stare at Tucker, wondering what the hell he was thinking.

Tucker just grinned back and Tim’s best guess… well, it couldn’t have been a bad experience. It had definitely afforded him the full attention of everyone at the table.

Harley stuck a hand in the air again.

“Okay, I know I ain’t one o’ the kids, but I’m gonna need to know a whole lot more about that,” she declared, and Tucker laughed, shaking his head.

“Another time? I gotta get back to get ready for school early tomorrow at the latest but if you wanted to hang out again…” he trailed off hopefully, his attention slipping from Harley back to Tim.

Tim was not going to blush. This was a chance to gather more intel in future. And just hang out with a friend! There was nothing more to it than that.

He chuckled softly and nodded, settling back into his seat.

“Yeah, I think it’s safe to say we’ll see each other again,” he agreed, and definitely didn’t enjoy the way Tucker beamed at him.

Given their reactions, he probably did some kind of tech support while Danny… Danny was probably the ghost who’d protected Amity Park.

Had they always known who Jason and his family were? Tim knew he should reserve judgement until he could find an unbiased source and work out what had actually happened in Amity Park, but…

Well, it wasn’t like the Amity Parkers were hostile. There was always the chance it could be a long con, but Tim didn’t think so. They’d given too much away.

For now, it seemed safest to assume that they were fellow vigilantes, and were at least as aware of their identities as Danny. Tucker might even have been the one to work it out.

And if Tucker could solve their technical problems and give them open access to Amity Park, Tim could take that and confirm his theories.

If they had something to hide, Tim should be able to work out at least where to look based on what Tucker gave him.

“We’ve gotta wait for Danny to get back for him to infuse your tech, buuuut I can get you started on the data download if you can hook me into your set up,” Tucker said with an almost seductive smile.

Or maybe Tim thought it was seductive because it came with an offer of increased tech. And sure, he wasn’t hooking a stranger straight up to the Batcomputer, but…

Well, that’s what the fully isolated laptops were for. And Tim could bring one of those up from the cave, but… well, the Amity Parkers showed trust first. And they really had less reason to.

They’d been abandoned by the Justice League, and apparently personally picking up that slack. The least Tim wanted to do was promise them that it hadn’t been malicious; they really hadn’t known.

And to promise that he personally was going to find out how this had happened, and make sure it wouldn’t happen again. Last night wasn’t going to be in vain.

He’d ask the others about it, but as things stood right now, Tim would really like to see Tucker get a proper look at the Bat Cave.

**

Vlad was a little surprised to find he’d been having an absolutely charming afternoon with one Brucie Wayne.

He hadn’t expected to actually like the man, but one on one he had a kind of self effacing charm that Vlad rather appreciated. Far more tolerable than most of the arrogant rich bastards he had to deal with.

He had been so very interested in the running of Amity Park too, in the challenges of being a mayor and a business owner, and so few people really appreciated the struggle.

Of course, Vlad wasn’t going to out any of Daniel’s little secrets. It wouldn’t do to upset the boy more while he was trying to mend fences.

Even if he had left Vlad to the mercy of some hapless buffoons and the criminals they were chasing the night before.

So he kept it light, to issues like road maintenance, funding local fixtures like the library and the schools, things he thought Brucie had a chance of understanding.

Brucie had also noticed that their boys were becoming… close.

Well, it would be almost impossible for him not to have. And it was only natural that Brucie wanted to know more about the boy getting close to his son.

It was almost a little strange how easy it was to speak well of Daniel. For so long Vlad had been fixated on his inadequacies, on all the things he could fix if Daniel would just accept his help.

On wanting to mould Daniel into someone like himself. He hadn’t really considered that Daniel… might not want to be like him.

Vlad was rich, successful, on top of the world by every modern marker, but he was also alone. He had no one and nothing that he would call his own, that he could leave his fortune to.

Of course, as a half ghost it wasn’t like he was actually going to die, but not having a successor was part of what tugged at his core.

And Daniel… Daniel was much better at bringing people close than Vlad. He had dear friends, and easily found himself with new ones. Daniel was likeable, and Vlad had to admit that he himself… wasn’t.

People cozied up and tried to bribe Vlad, but perhaps it was the very things he’d seen as weaknesses in Daniel that made them actually like the boy.

So he focused on those instead, the qualities that had always baffled and confused him. The loyalty, the trust, everything he’d once tried to use to tear Daniel down.

And utterly failed at every turn. After so many years, yes, Vlad had detected the pattern. It was just so hard to keep from falling into it.

So when he felt Daniel’s aura wash out and across him, wary but amused on top of the aggression, he startled just a little. Made sure to obviously check his phone, and gasped when he saw the time.

It was obvious what must have happened.

“Oh my, Brucie, did you have another appointment today?” He asked in only mildly faked surprise, concealing his amusement expertly. “Dear Daniel has just contacted me, it seems you’ve been missed.”

Daniel likely thought Vlad was up to the kind of nefarious schemes that he… well, had come to Gotham to commit, in all honesty. But obviously those plans had changed with his little badger’s personal interest.

Perhaps he should have told Daniel that? Ah well, the boy would learn soon enough. He settled back in his seat, letting his aura broadcast his intent.

Calm-welcome-nothing to hide.

Felt Daniel’s disbelief, but that was fine. It was the truth.

Brucie visibly startled as well, taking his own phone out to check the time. Probably wondering why his own brood weren’t contacting him if he’d been missed so much.

“Oh… yes, I’m terribly sorry, I think Danny must have been invited to our family dinner, which I’m late to,” Brucie added with that lovely self effacing smile, shrugging. “I must have put my phone on vibrate. I’ll just tell them to start without me.”

Or his children didn’t expect him to check it, apparently with reason.

Vlad clapped his hands together and rubbed them a few times.

“Well, no matter. I do believe Danny is on his way to retrieve you, so we’d best wait where we are. I will pick up the bill, of course.”

They’d had the private room in the restaurant for around four hours now, which wouldn’t come cheap, but Vlad could be generous. Especially if Daniel expected him not to be.

Brucie made the usual noises of gratitude and appreciation, and mild confusion. Well, that would be answered by whether or not Daniel bothered to transform back before bursting in.

Either way, it wouldn’t be Vlad’s choice to reveal his little secret.

“I have my car with me, but if Danny’s on his way here…” Brucie trailed off, glancing to the window with a perplexed frown on that handsome face.

Whoever dealt with the man’s wrinkles for the cameras would be very upset, but Vlad got the feeling Brucie could afford the best. He had such an expressive face, and yet nothing was ever out of place.

Almost as good as ectoplasm for keeping one young.

He was probably wondering why Daniel was coming instead of one of his own children, and while Vlad could come up with an excuse about needing to see the boy anyway… well, he was bursting in on a very pleasant afternoon.

Vlad wanted to mend fences, not solve all the boy’s self inflicted problems.

Still, he gave Brucie a smile, touching the pad that would summon them a server again.

“Oh, you and Daniel can take the car I’m sure. He’ll just be here to make sure I’m behaving myself,” he added with a wry chuckle, settling back in his seat.

Something very much like alertness flicked across Brucie’s face, and Vlad could feel a flicker of suspicion for the first time from the other man.

Well, Vlad had baited him.

He certainly wasn’t as empathetic as Daniel, but he liked to keep an eye on his company, and this was the first trace of something more that he’d gotten from the man.

He waved a hand cheerfully, chuckling. The man likely had links to his city’s precious Bat and all his opinions on those more than just human. Best allay those concerns even if he was leaving.

“I have been known to talk peoples’ ears off if I get onto a subject like football, and four hours is surely long enough for him to suspect I’ve roped you into watching a game. Though if you did want to attend…” he let himself trail off, watched the man’s shoulders settle as he laughed.

“Oh, I’m not much of a sports fan myself, but I try to keep up with the Gotham teams when I can.”

The female teams at least, according to the tabloids, but Vlad wouldn’t judge. Much.

Brucie gave him that charming smile again, settling as well as the server came in and once again refilled their drinks.

“I didn’t realise Amity Park had their own teams in a league, though,” Brucie added with that softly furrowed brow. Like thought was such a strain for the man.

Vlad gave the server a quick smile and inclined his head.

“I will take the bill now, I believe we’re ready to go. And we don’t have our own teams in any of the major leagues,” he explained indulgently to Brucie, lips quirking up at the very thought.

Imagine trying to play a home game in Amity Park. It was hard enough getting the school teams out to their rivals.

And it gave him a chance to talk about his secondary Obsession.

“No, I have ownership of the Green Bay Packers, back home in Wisconsin. I really must warn you to stop there if you don’t want their full stats for the last four seasons or worse,” Vlad teased with a soft chuckle, taking a sip of his water.

Both of Brucie’s eyebrows rose and the man smiled back, settling into his seat.

“Well, Danny will be here soon to cut you off anyway,” he commented, that charming smile looking far too comfortable on him.

And he did have a point. Giving him a nod of acknowledgement, Vlad relaxed and let the gentle sea of Obsession take him, enthusiasm ramping up with every word he spoke.

It was nice to have permission for a change.

**

Despite his cheerful words, Danny couldn’t help but tense as he flew across the city. He’d make it within minutes, way faster than anyone trying to actually use Gotham’s streets, but…

Vlad had had Bruce for hours already. Danny was gonna hope that whatever he was doing, it was just more of his shady businessman bullshit.

He really, really, really didn’t want to fight overshadowed Batman.

Of course, remembering the looks on the flying furry brigade’s faces gave him a definite boost in mood. He didn’t actually wanna show up at Vlad’s giggling, buuut that was a problem for future Danny.

Present Danny was busy specifically not worrying so that he didn’t worry Jason into coming after him. Maybe telling the guy about Vlad’s lightning juice hadn’t been a great idea?

Of course, the good thing about the expanded aura was that he could still feel Jason’s like they were right next to each other.

And who’d have thought Jason was also a fucking mother hen? Poor guy was still tense, although at least Danny could still feel just a little amusement.

Yeah, Jason was getting to enjoy the full fruits of Danny’s theatrics. It wasn’t fair, but it made the whole thing better. Gave him something to keep his mind off Danny.

As if on cue, a strong spike of incredulous-funny-what the fuck came from his favourite non-clone halfa.

Danny was nearly at the restaurant now, and paused just above to send a questioning pulse back. Felt Jason startle, and could almost see him roll his eyes.

Later-come back-done?

The fuck were they talking about? Maybe the bats were right to always have their own little comms in. Danny sent a reassuring wave back.

Soon-anticipation-just arrived-curious.

And yes, Danny did expect the caution-stay safe-coming after you that he got back, but he wasn’t sure Jason would get the full effect of him actually rolling his eyes.

One last check for Vlad’s aura and Danny turned invisible, phasing through the roof and walls to have a look around.

Vlad was alone in a private room, with nothing but some glasses of water and a mostly empty bottle of wine. Alright, food was probably over a while ago, but the water might be a good sign.

Vlad wasn’t known to take care of the people he overshadowed.

Danny did a quick search of the rest of the building, stopping just shy of accidentally sticking his head through a bathroom wall when he felt a familiar presence.

Yup, Bruce was in the bathroom. Probably not overshadowed, which might just mean that Vlad was finished with him.

Not taking the risk, Danny made his way stealthily back to the private room, popping into visibility behind Vlad’s seat.

At least his aura being everywhere made it hard for Vlad to get a fix.

“What, did I not pay you enough attention last night, Vladdie?” He complained, draping an arm across the back of the man’s chair and noting the way he stiffened.

Also, these chairs? Much more pretentious. All carved and ornamental and bleh. Nowhere near as good as the ones at Wayne Manor.

Vlad didn’t actually turn to face him, reaching out and picking up his water glass instead. Filling his hands, so it’d be harder for him to take a shot at Danny?

Or just Vlad being Vlad and dismissing him.

Vlad took a long, slow sip before replying.

“While I would have preferred more of a chance to speak with you, Daniel, my presence here is solely to your benefit I assure you,” he said cool as a cucumber.

Danny narrowed his eyes, giving another poke of his aura. It didn’t feel like a lie.

“How so? Gonna rob Brucie blind and give it to the poor? I guess green also works for Robin Hood,” Danny mused, fingers drumming on the back of the chair.

Vlad actually looked at him then, a sharp sidelong glance before the man relaxed again, chuckling softly.

“Nothing of the sort. But if you and young Jason are going to be closely… connected, I will be seeing much more of Brucie, and I thought perhaps I could help lighten the… impression you left.”

Wait.

Was Vlad blushing?

Danny peered forward for a better look, utterly at a loss for what connection Vlad might be talking about. Cuz yeah, he and Jason were friends, but…

Oh.

Oh!

Vlad bought the closet scene.

Somehow that outcome had never even occurred to Danny and he felt himself flush, cheeks going green. Fuck, the goal had been to cause a scene, but Vlad actually thought…

Wait.

“So you’ve been here trying to convince Bruce I’m not an evil harlot corrupting his boy?” Danny asked, barely concealed glee rising with every word.

Because if this was funny, if this was fucking hilarious, he didn’t have to be embarrassed by it. Vlad didn’t need to know shit about his actual sex life, but if he’d actually called Bruce to try and polish up Danny’s new slutty reputation…

Vlad cleared his throat pointedly, still not looking directly at him.

“And luckily for you, he is somewhat willing to believe you have some good traits,” he said archly, and that fucking floored Danny.

“YOU think I have good traits?” He asked incredulously, cutting off whatever Vlad was about to say.

The man even took it pretty well, just one of those loud sighs like Danny was a particularly tiresome child, not a full grown adult man.

“I understand where you might have got the impression I don’t, Daniel, but if I thought you had none would I have pursued you so harshly?” He asked, finally turning in his chair to face Danny frankly.

Which meant he got both barrels of the sceptical face Danny was making.

“Dude, you say that like Obsessions are fucking logical,” Danny said dryly, and Vlad actually chuckled.

Not even condescendingly.

Like Danny made a point.

“Quite. Unfortunately for myself, the effects of my Obsession went into how I planned to achieve it, not in the goal itself. You have always been a remarkable young man, Daniel.”

And that was at least familiar ground.

Danny rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, and I’d be even more if I let you lure me off to your creepy castle in Wisconsin to become mini-Vlad. Brucie can’t ship me to Wisconsin,” he pointed out, just about resisting the urge to poke Vlad in the chest.

The old guy was being weirdly noncombative, but it had been a while since they saw each other. Actual years, which Danny couldn’t imagine would have been good for the other halfa.

Much as it sucked being someone else’s Obsession and he’d loved being free of the Fruitloop… he wouldn’t wish the ache of an unfulfilled Obsession on anyone.

Fuck did that mean Vlad had actually moved on? Was that something he could do? Please let it be something he could do.

The older halfa chuckled again and took another sip of his water.

“No, I’m well aware that he can’t. But our time apart gave me little to do but consider what I know of you. You have grown to a fine young man, Daniel, perhaps with all that I have ever lacked.”

He looked up again, their eyes meeting, and Danny very nearly recoiled. Almost stepped back and away from the other halfa’s aura so that he couldn’t feel Vlad’s pride seeping into his skin like grease.

“Okay, this is getting fucking weird. Do I have to kick your ass to get whatever contracts you made Bruce sign back?” He asked sharply, trying to get the conversation back to somewhere he understood it.

Vlad hesitated a moment, then settled back again, clearly reading Danny’s discomfort in his aura if not on his face because the pride settled away.

Back in Wayne Manor, Danny felt Jason keying up, the slow growing happiness cutting straight back to danger-warning-protect-need help?.

Danny forced himself to calm too, closing his eyes for a moment to focus on the feel of Jason, not Vlad.

He just.

He didn’t know what to do with Vlad being proud of him. That had only ever meant he’d fucked up somewhere horrible before.

Calm-safe-I’m safe-not hurt.

“Still in contact with young Jason?” Vlad asked, letting the subject change even if he didn’t answer Danny’s question.

Danny cracked an eye open to peer at him.

“Yeah, he wasn’t a fan of me coming to see you on my own. Not to pick up his dad,” he added before Vlad could get the wrong idea.

Actually. It was still kinda funnier if Vlad kept the wrong idea.

From what Danny could read of him, no worries about that. Vlad was amused, but not comfortable.

Yeah, well, he could join the club. Danny gave his shoulder a gentle poke.

“Anyway. What did you really want Bruce for?”

Vlad glanced at his watch, then at the door.

“Well he’ll be back any second to tell you himself, Daniel. I wasn’t sure if you’d shared this little secret yet so I didn’t mention any of our shared nature, but he was the one to invite me out.”

Which also felt like the truth. Both parts. Danny hesitated for a moment, not quite sure if he was ready for this particular secret to be out to the Batman.

It’d be out the second the man got home if no one had texted him yet, but that was a long car ride away unless Danny flew back, and he didn’t want to leave Bruce unsupervised again.

Just because Vlad was being weird didn’t mean he wasn’t being Vlad.

Still, he’d know if Bruce was overshadowed right away, and if he wasn’t he could ask the man himself what Vlad had been up to.

And Vlad was in human form. Not like he could transform any faster than Danny if shit was about to go down.

The decision pretty much took itself out of his hands when the door began to open and Danny jumped back out of grabbing reach (just in case) and changed back.

Which was when he remembered what he was wearing.

**

Lunch with Vlad Masters had been… informative, and Bruce was a little surprised just how much time had passed.

Masters might be an unscrupulous businessman but he was clearly devoted to the things he cared for; Daniel Fenton, Amity Park, and the Green Bay Packers.

He just couldn’t quite reconcile how those three pieces fit into the picture at hand. To hear Vlad tell it, nothing untoward had happened in Amity Park in his whole time as mayor. And yet… the calls were real.

Even if Masters hadn’t hit the button personally, someone in his office must have.

Was there a chance that Danny had some sort of mind control abilities? That he’d removed the memories of those in Amity Park who’d opposed him?

It would explain why Masters would so fervently champion a boy he’d had almost nothing to do with. Oh, Danny Fenton had been born to two of Masters’ college friends, but they hadn’t seen each other for years before Danny’s birth.

As far as Bruce could tell the two had never even met before Danny was at least fourteen; Vlad had lived in an actual castle in Wisconsin and been a regular on the gala circuit for his area.

Friend of the family or not, it was suspicious that the only adults he’d spoken to so far had such diametrically opposed views on Danny.

Vlad was obviously hiding something. About Amity Park, Bruce was completely certain. The man’s accounts simply did not add up with the evidence. About Danny…

Bruce had his suspicions, but there was very little clear evidence about the man himself. Danny was technically an unknown quantity. And the center of far too many mysteries for Bruce’s peace of mind.

Bruce slipped away to the bathroom to let his thoughts settle not too long into Vlad’s lecture on the history of the Packers.

If Danny was coming from the manor they had a while yet before he’d be there, so he could let Vlad ramble on for a while once he returned.

His cheeks hurt from keeping up Brucie’s smile, but that was nothing new. The gala last night was still weighing on him, but it made it easier to put the act back on.

If Danny was coming here, and would accompany Bruce back to the manor, they would have a while to talk in the traffic. Finally a chance to speak to the man himself and let Bruce get an unbiased read.

Something had happened before Vlad claimed to have received a message from Danny. Something that made him start, and while it could have been the man’s phone, Bruce doubted it.

Even silent vibrations actually made some sound, and Vlad had barely glanced at the device. Not long enough to read any kind of complicated message; he hadn’t even unlocked it.

Vlad must have thought he was hiding it, but he’d been amused by whatever happened. Amused, and known immediately it was Danny. That Danny was coming.

Whatever else he might be, Vlad was certainly not a particularly skilled liar. Not to Batman.

Washing his hands, Bruce wondered if he might not be able to get Vlad back onto the subject of how Danny would be coming.

On his own, or at least Vlad hadn’t mentioned anyone else. And using Bruce’s car to get back? There were hardly bus routes between the manor and the city.

Unless Danny had some kind of meta abilities. Damian’s report had included his suspicions, and Duke and Dick had both seen him fly away.

That would put him here sooner than expected, but Bruce was certain he’d have noticed a flying meta in his city. Unless Danny only flew for certain situations.

Bruce paused at the door to their private room for half a second, letting his Brucie mask settle comfortably into place. Letting the smile spread. And pushed the door open.

Something bright flashed inside and Bruce tensed, anticipating a trap. One he would have no choice but to fall into, as he was now. But as the door cleared, he saw…

Vlad at the table, just as Bruce had left him. And Danny Fenton settling like he’d just moved sharply, wide blue eyes and messy hair above a shirt that was far too large for him tied off at his waist, and.

And.

Impractical for the weather. The trousers were closer to the right size, but arms and feet were bare, along with a slice of midriff.

Completely dry. It was still snowing, and the streets were covered in snow and slush. There was a slim chance he’d left a coat somewhere, but even his hair was dry.

Windswept and dishevelled hair, suggesting flight. His boys were right, and Bruce made a note to check in with Oracle later. See if he had been detected in the air.

Startled by his presence. Likely not because he didn’t expect Bruce to be there, not if he’d come expressly to pick him up. More that he’d been distracted by whatever had him moving so sharply.

Staring at him.

And then there was nothing else to observe, except…

Wearing one of Jason’s shirts. One that Dick had given him as a joke. It hung off him, exacerbating their size difference.

Danny was small. Closer to Cass’s size, and this close up Bruce could see the lean muscle, but there wasn’t much of it.

In pure hand to hand Bruce could probably take him, but whatever abilities let him tank a fight with Killer Croc left the actual outcome an unknown.

Blinking hard to distract himself from just how and why Danny had managed to show up in Jason’s clothes, he pulled on his big happy Brucie smile for the room.

And suddenly Vlad was incensed.

Bruce would swear the man had been smiling when he opened the door, but at some point while Bruce gave Danny a quick once over his mood had turned to rage.

He smothered it down quickly, but his jaw was still tight when he spoke through gritted teeth.

“Daniel, I believe this is the first time you have met Brucie,” Vlad said, his tone so frosty Bruce nearly shivered.

Not controlled by Danny then. At least, not controlled in a way that made him deferential. Not unless this was a slip in Danny’s control.

The boy looked startled still, looking down at himself like he’d forgotten what he was wearing and giving Bruce a sheepish smile.

Honestly he could have been wearing the world’s finest suit and not allayed any of Bruce’s suspicions, but it wasn’t Brucie’s job to let that show.

Instead he cranked the smile up a couple more notches, stepping forward and holding out a hand to shake.

“Yes, Danny, my kids simply won’t stop talking about you! I was sorry I couldn’t say hello last night,” he added, wanting to see how Danny would react to a little dig.

Nothing he couldn’t deny as being purely sincere.

Danny made a face and then pulled a smile on over it, stepping forward quickly to shake Bruce’s hand.

Some people only needed touch to take control of another. Bruce felt nothing of the sort, but Danny’s hand was oddly cool. Not unaffected by his clothing then.

“Yeah… sorry about that. About… well, all of it,” Danny said with a sheepish smile and one shoulder shrug that nearly had the shirt’s overlarge neckline fall off his other shoulder.

He scrabbled to right it, and Bruce firmly stifled the impulse to relax.

It was familiar, something any of his kids might have done. It could easily be an act to lure him into a false calm.

Brucie laughed and clapped him on the other shoulder, keeping half an eye on Vlad, who was still stewing at the table.

“Oh, I certainly got up to much worse in my day. You’re only young once, right?” He offered jovially, tipping Danny a playboy wink.

The boy blushed to the roots of his hair.

Interesting.

As much as Bruce wanted to pull at Vlad a little more, try and work out his sudden change of mood, he would much rather begin his observations of Danny Fenton directly.

“Still, we should get going or we’ll miss all of dinner,” he said with a cheerful smile, nodding to Vlad. “Thanks for a lovely afternoon, Vlad! Maybe we’ll catch a football game before the season ends.”

The man’s disposition brightened like he’d flicked a switch, though he still shot Danny an almost smug dirty look.

“Oh, that would be charming, Brucie. I’ll get you tickets for the Packers’ next game, we’ll have a splendid time.”

Danny snickered beside him, shoving his hands in his pockets and grinning back. Not afraid of Vlad either, for all that the other man was older, richer, and more influential.

“Yeah, Vladdie here knows aaaall about packers,” he said with a sly smirk, looking down on Vlad from his standing position.

Vlad responded with a look that Bruce had previously only seen on Clark’s face, around when Dick started teaching Kon sex jokes. And in the mirror.

Steph called it the “your puberty was my death sentence” look and insisted every one of the mentors used it. Bruce personally wasn’t convinced Oliver Queen knew what shame meant.

He’d abandoned his son. Bruce would never forgive that until Roy asked him to.

Perhaps he did have more in common with Vlad than he’d thought though. Watching the children get old enough for innuendo sucked.

Luckily Brucie could pretend not to get it.

“I know, he was telling me all about their recent games before you arrived,” he said cheerfully, oblivious as anything. And watched how both responded to innocence.

Vlad still looked pained, possibly by the pair of them now. Danny… Danny was smirking, clearly not convinced.

That was concerning. The boy knew who Nightwing and Signal were, there was a chance he knew Bruce’s identity too and this at least pointed in the same direction.

Still, no need to confirm anything for him. With another cheery wave to Vlad he held the door open for Danny.

“So, shall we? Would you like to take my car or do you have your own way back?” He asked, subtly prodding to see what Danny might say. And perhaps a hint how he’d gotten there.

Danny hesitated for a moment, glancing at Vlad. Like there was something between them, something to do with him.

Yes, Bruce would have to meet with Vlad Masters again in future. After he’d gotten to speak to Danny.

“I’ll come back with you,” Danny said with a shrug, nodding towards the door and then moving through it at Bruce’s wave.

He kept half an eye on the boy as they headed down to the restaurant’s garage and the sleek black car Bruce had driven over.

It’d be at least twenty minutes to drive back to the manor at this hour, maybe longer. Time enough for a short interrogation.

“I already messaged the others and told them to get started without us, I hope you don’t mind,” he said in his best charming Brucie voice, beeping the car to unlock it.

Danny shrugged, moving around to the passenger door, apparently entirely unbothered by bare feet on freezing concrete. Bruce almost wished he had some spare shoes for him.

“Yeah, it’s cool. I figured. So, any idea how long it’ll be to get back?” He asked, slipping into the car and sitting cross legged on the front seat.

Bruce followed suit, turning on the car and then the heat right away. Doing what he could.

“Probably not more than twenty minutes. Your seat is heated too by the way, here. You made it down very quickly, were you in the area?” Bruce asked, watching Danny from the corner of his eye as he strapped in.

Would Danny just tell him?

He’d not been hiding from the boys. If he really didn’t think this had to be a secret, he could just tell Bruce.

Danny shrugged again, opened his mouth, and Bruce’s phone rang, cutting him off.

His phone should be on silent. Bruce gave Danny an apologetic smile, pulling it out and planning to push the caller to voice mail. Wondering if he might have turned the ringer back on without meaning to. Or if Oracle had pushed through.

There was no one else he needed to talk to more than Danny right now.

Of course the universe would mock him for that thought.

The caller ID blinked accusingly up at him from the lock screen.

John fucking Constantine.

Bruce hesitated for a moment. Torn. The mystery or the responsibility?

Any other member of the Justice League would be ranked as a more reliable source of information than a possible suspect, but after the night Bruce had had? After what he’d learned?

The problems in Amity Park may have begun or ended with Danny Fenton, but the problems in the Justice League traced neatly back to John Constantine.

When it came down to it, Bruce knew he had a responsibility.

He gave Danny another, more apologetic smile.

“So sorry… do you mind if I take this quickly?” He asked, holding the phone carefully so Danny couldn’t see the screen.

The boy’s face cracked into a grin and he shrugged a third time, getting comfy in the expensive leather seat.

“Hey, if you keep one eye on the road you’ll be the safest driver I’ve ever ridden with. You don’t wanna be too late though, you’ve got another extra guest for dinner and she seemed real impatient,” he said with a slight smile, turning on his heated seat.

About to get out of the car, Bruce paused again.

“Oh? Who was that?” He asked half rhetorically, already listing the women in his life who could possibly make this situation worse.

Top of the list…

“Harley Quinn.”

Of course.

What did she want now?

Bruce forced himself not to think about it, swinging up and out of the car and holding the phone to his ear.

One disaster at a time. No matter how many the universe was piling in his lap after nearly a month of nothing. He’d known it was too good to be true.

At least the garage was empty, and the car soundproofed. Danny wouldn’t hear a thing.

“Constantine. How did you get this number?”

**

In a secluded corner of the House of Mystery everyone’s favourite magical scapegoat stubbed out a cigarette and reclined back in his seat.

“Oh, is this not fun when people do it to you? And here’s me thinkin’ barging into other peoples’ business was how you lot showed affection,” he said dryly, fingers tapping off the glowing purple ward scrawled on the phone case.

Phone numbers were for plebs.

He could fuckin’ hear Bats grinding his teeth through the phone. And yeah, maybe winding him up further wasn’t the best idea, but fuck it.

If John had good ideas, he’d never have given the fucking Justice League his contact info. Case in point.

Winding up the big Bat was the price they all had to pay for royally pissing him off all fuckin’ night and all fuckin’ day.

Kept an impressive handle on the growl though. Must have been somewhere semi-private.

“Constantine. You’ve been out of touch for more than eighteen hours and there is a serious-”

John cut him off, waving his cigarette around as if he could shush the man from here.

“Oh no no, big boy, you’re not fuckin’ blaming that on me. You’re the one fucking up all my communicators, and you’re going to fuckin’ stop. Now.”

And yeah, maybe he did enjoy the very tiniest inhale of surprise he could hear. Or was that Batsy counting to ten?

“What do you mean.” The trademarked growl was definitely creeping in, private place or not. Well, good. John being too annoying to kill was what kept him alive.

Better spell it out for the fucker though.

“I’m a fuckin’ magician, Batlad. On a couple of Hell’s most fuckin’ wanted lists. I can’t be fuckin’ found by people fuckin’ wishing me fuckin’ harm, and let me tell you how goddamn delighted I am to learn that that now includes you!”

All he’d wanted to do today was drop off some results for the junior spandex brigade about some of the glyphs and wards they’d found at a dig.

Just trying to stop them from blowing their fucking hands off. A humanitarian mission. John fuckin’ hated kids. Handless kids only slightly worse.

And he couldn’t contact a single member of the fuckin’ Justice League because some asshole was trying to use them to hunt him down.

Zatanna had needed to come to the House personally to circumvent the wards she’d helped him build.

(Good to know how well they worked though. Assuming they were working and he’d done something to piss off the big Bat enough that he was out for blood.

There was technically a chance they’d been calibrated wrong and Batsy wanted to bring him ham. Less likely than harm, in John’s humble opinion.)

Still, the only way to unfuck his communications was to find and defuse whatever had pissed the skulky bitch off, and while Zatanna had agreed to drop off his work for the kids, he needed to know what else they’d found.

He so was not going to fucking Alaska in January.

And with that as his alternative, John forced his most chipper smile onto his lips. Apparently people could sense that through phones. Who fuckin’ knew.

“So. You’ve fuckin’ got me. What the hell do you want?”

—————

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