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#Wayne also had a house that was his and he did not want to lose what he worked hard for. He wasn’t sure that the plan they had for the comp
sbrinnie · 15 hours
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Even if you bribe a kid into accompanying you, there is no guarantee that said kid would behave, there are negative guarantees if the kid is Richard Grayson.
Of course Bruce could just leave him at the Manor, but then he would have no excuse to leave the galas early. Taking Dick to the galas was for his benefit more than anything else. But he also knows that if he takes that path, he knows his responsibilities double.
Dick needs to be entertained, which is no problem, even though Alfred has a no-screen policy, but Bruce is delighted not to be entangled in any unfruitful conversation and just have conversations with his son ward.
Dick doesn’t like any of the other kids from high society, so Bruce is prepared to have a child-shaped koala with him all night. They just need to get to 11 o'clock, and then Bruce can excuse them because Dick is tired.
The real problem was the speeches, oh my god, the speeches.
They were too long for Dick’s attention span, and there was not much a napkin could do to make someone distracted, they couldn’t talk, or it would be seen as disrespectful (they did it once, and this led to Alfred scolding them). So, the solution they found was Bingo.
Dick's family used to play Bingo with him while traveling with the circus. “The showman will forget his lines,” or “The clown will have its nose stolen by a baby,” or even “It will rain” – anything was on the table. The bingo cards were made beforehand by them and could list at most 15 things they thought would happen while in the city. Whoever got the most correct wins and could ask for anything they wanted.
Alfred found the idea genius. He did something of the sort with Bruce when he was younger, trying to distract him while Martha and Thomas made net worth. By that day, the Waynes had a bingo card for almost every gala they attended. It was also a memory game, trying to remember everyone in high society, and made both of them train their stealth. No one could know what they were doing. The most common to appear was “Drake’s will not go” since they were always traveling, and “Kane’s will be late” once they knew Kate would do everything in her power to not make an appearance.
The rules were simple: 1 - Behave, if there’s anything but a well behaved appearance the game is over; 2 - The events can not be provoked, you can’t influence the outcomes; 3 - No one can know what they are doing.
Even Barbara got to play! Alfred described it as a gladiator's fight, both having competitors' souls and hating to lose for one another; the end of the night, when the points were counted, sounded like a deputy election. Jim almost never went to galas, but he knew Babs and Dick were good friends, and sometimes the kid wanted some company at the tedious events. Plus, Alfred would babysit for free. He didn’t know what those kids did to have so much fun at a fundraiser, but he was glad they were having fun, and were in Gotham is safer than Batman's house.
And so, the tradition carried on. By Jason's first gala, Dick was so excited that he even spent the night before at the manor helping him complete his card. Soon enough, they noticed the great sibling bonding time in that. Sadly, Bruce had lost his spot in the competition but was happy his kids were having fun together. Tim received his at a patrol before the gala from Dick and just answered, “Oh, that’s what you guys were doing all along?” He admits it was his funniest night and less stealthy bingo ever. The Drakes were seated two tables away from the Waynes, and Dick couldn’t stop glaring at him every time Tim made a point. Just how the kid predicted a whole fight between two mistresses? The first place was never more difficult to win.
Cassandra and Stephanie almost couldn’t contain their laughter when they scored “Mayor will say ‘and’ at least 37 times.” By Damian's time, it was a day’s thing preparation. The whole family was entangled in gossip about high society; they knew about pregnancies, affairs, and money laundering. Damian found the game nonsense and refused to play, but they could see him perking by Dick's shoulder to see if he got the point or not.
When Jason was back from the dead and in civil terms with the family, he was given a card by mail and small instructions on the back. Somehow, Jason got the second-highest score that night. When Duke came by, it almost looked like a casino house! They started to make chips to know how many times someone won, and they were exchanged regularly and could also be passed down for favors with each other. Bruce and Alfred were the only final line; they cashed the chips for days without patrol, favorite foods, bigger allowances, etc.
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deadsetobsessions · 8 months
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Damian Wayne was like a duckling. A violent, stab-happy, danger-prone duckling, yes, but a duckling all the same. Which means when Danny almost got stabbed by a sleepy, instinct driven Damian, he was able to wave it off with a laugh. Damian, on the other hand, stared in horror at the butter knife firmly lodged in Danny’s arm.
“PENNYWORTH!” Danny jerked back at Damian’s scream. “RICHARD! FATHER!”
God damn, the kid had a pair of lungs on him. Danny’s wince was interpreted as pain to Damian, who gently grabbed his injured arm and started to pull him towards the kitchen’s marble island.
Danny blinked, non plussed as his hearing picked up a thundering of feet as the present family members scrambled towards Damian’s distress call.
“Wait, Damian, I’m fine. It’s-”
“You have been impaled, you imbecile! Had it been any of the other simpletons, they would have-!”
“Ouch.” Danny put his other hand in mock hurt over his slow-beating heart. He literally doesn’t care about the butter knife. He’s just impressed there was enough force in there to impale him. “Are you calling me names now? After- gasp- stabbing me?”
Before Damian could reply, the beginnings of regret, remorse, and guilt on his face, Alfred, Dick, and Bruce burst into the kitchen.
“What happened?!”
“My word, master Danny!”
“What is it?!”
“I’m fine. It’s like a small stab. Not even a big stab. I’m good.”
Dick paled, seeing Danny’s arm clutched in Damian’s hand.
“That’s- that’s a knife. In your arm. How is that ‘fine’?!”
“What happened.” Bruce asked Damian, gently removing Danny’s arm from Damian’s death clutch.
“I- I did not mean to,” Damian starts, guilt coloring his voice.
“He didn’t,” Danny cuts in. “I startled him and got stabbed for being dumb. I won’t fault him for having a defense mechanism like that, ancient knows what I might do if you guys startled me.”
The awkward silence that settled at his words made Danny twitch awkwardly.
“Uh, so, can I add this knife to my collection? Even if I didn’t get mugged?”
“Danny.”
“Bruce.” Danny stared stubbornly back. With his uninsured hand, he patted Damian on the head. He was going to enjoy the fluffiness before Damian’s guilt was no longer enough to hold him back from snapping at Danny’s hand like a grumpy alligator. Bruce loses, obviously. He’s a teenager who was also an ex-vigilante. Batman’s got nothing on a determined halfa.
“Master Danny, I must insist you refrain from getting stabbed. There is only so much gauze and antiseptic cream in the house.” Alfred returned- huh, when did he leave?- with a med kit.
Danny called bullshit because he knows there’s a whole ass medical bay beneath the manor.
“Sorry.”
“No need to apologize.” Alfred said, promptly beginning the extraction of the butter knife.
“Are you okay?” Dick asked, hovering worriedly. “He- are you…?”
Damian was allowing Danny to ruffle his hair, so…
“Yep, I’m good. This isn’t even on my top thirty most painful stabbings,” and it really wasn’t. That honor was given to the GIW and that one time Jazz accidentally stabbed him with her earrings. “That was pretty impressive, actually. It’s like, a butter knife. The other ones had pointy ends.”
“Do not clump me with those pathetic wastes of spaces. I am naturally superior and would… would never harm you on purpose.” Damian said, getting quiet at the end like he was trying to plead to Danny to believe him.
“Of course not. But- if you want help me keep the knife, you can hit me with a mug, it would technically be a mugging.”
The pun got the desired effect. Damian leaned away with a disgruntled look and Dick stopped hovering as close in order to let out a small cackle.
“Done.”
“You should go get changed, kiddo. We’re going to see Tim’s photography at the Gotham Gallery today.”
“Oh, for real?” Danny patted Damian’s fluffy hair one last time, pushing away from the counter. “Oh, I’ll clean up here first and-”
“That will not be necessary,” Alfred scolded, a mop somehow already in his hands. “Please see to it you are prepared for the day.”
“Thanks, Alfred. Can I keep the knife.”
“Very well.”
“Sweet. See you guys later?” Danny pranced off after seeing the nods.
——
“He’s… he got stabbed a lot. Before us, I mean.” Dick tapped a furious rhythm onto the counter. “Not that we’ve stabbed him until now but even once is concerning for a civilian.”
“He was used to it.” Bruce replied.
“Perhaps we should join Todd in his endeavor and ensure that his worthless tormentors are permanently out of the picture.”
“God, he said top thirty. He was counting.”
Damian silently withdrew a kitchen knife.
“No murder with my quality chef’s knives, Master Damian.”
“Tt.”
“Master Jason follows the same rules. Now, out of the kitchen. I may be old, but I remember the last time master Bruce and master Dick stepped foot in here and I will not have a repeat.”
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pirateprincessblog · 3 months
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prefects and t(h)reats
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𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫.: you haven't been lurking the castle at night since the day you cost your house a lot of points and the slytherin prefect scolded you. long enough has passed, and you might want to start doing that again. 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: park seonghwa x f!reader 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 6.6k words 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: harry potter universe, slytherin!seonghwa, hufflepuff!reader, smut, bit of angst (seonghwa being a piece of shit(basic slytherin) towards the reader and her friends) 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: spanking, hair pulling, choking, finger sucking, fingering, oral (f!receiving), voyeurism, unprotected sex, semi-public?
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: idk, cursing i guess 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: something got fucked in the process of posting this so if you see any repeating paragraphs do let me know my eyes aren't working anymore :D !everyone is of age, regardless of the year they are in. also, i may or may not have a finger sucking kink or whatever you call that :) also, i so did NOT use a twd negan reference here. just ignore that.
𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐲.
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"ugh! that snape will be the reason i get sent to azkaban, mark my words! i spent ages trying to perfect that mood colour changing sweater, and he just confiscated- wait, what?"
"what, what is it?"
"did our bloody house points get deducted again?"
just your luck, you need to pass by them to get to your next class. you wish you had perfected the disillusionment charm, it would be very helpful right now.
"you."
ignoring the voice that speaks clearly to you, you hug your books to your chest and quicken your pace, attempting to ascend the stone stairs and vanish into the divination classroom. suddenly, your elbows are seized by two familiar pairs of hands, drawing you back to stand before the house points display. indeed, the hourglass under the hufflepuff banner is noticeably less full than it was just the day before. and it may or may not be your fault. again.
"listen to me, honeydukes." wayne, your fellow housemate warns.
"don't call me that!" you still struggle to understand how you acquired that nickname, especially since you rarely visit honeydukes these days. that habit faded after your teeth nearly succumbed to decay from all the cotton candy and chocolate frogs.
"if you keep this up, you are going to be the reason i end up in azkaban. got it?" he points a finger at your face, causing you to stumble back.
"you have a week to get at least twenty points back. if you don't..." the other one, justin, also points his finger at you, "...i'll make your remaining years at hogwarts miserable. we are the lousiest house anyway, why do you have to make it worse?"
"yeah, what do you even do to make us lose house points?"
"i bet she pisses off prefects."
"or bothers professors outside the class, the know-it-all."
"i don't care if you have to duel harry potter himself, you'll get those points back."
"and when you do, you'll get double and triple that, and make sure we win this year."
"it is only fair, since you're costing us so much."
with each accusation hurled at you, you retreat, hoping to flee the verbal attack before tears betray you and worsen the situation. a high pitched noise invades your ears, drowning out their voices. so intent on avoiding their accusing fingers, you fail to notice the brink of the top stair until your foot falters and balance is lost. you gasp, eyes shut, bracing for the impact of cold stone against your skull.
"levioso!"
yet it never comes. your body is stuck in the air, right above the stairs. all the noise and fuss has left the main hall, resulting in you being too scared to open your eyes.
"accio."
but you are forced to open them, ears picking up quiet murmuring, mainly coming from girls. your eyes meet dark brown ones, stone cold with a serious expression. his black swirly wand is directed at you, levitating your body through the air until you're brought back to the top of the stairs. you finally regain control of it, hands hurriedly fixing the robe and covering yourself.
"you fools." he speaks, eyes not leaving yours.
your lip trembles, and eyes well up with tears. park seonghwa is the one person you do not wish to anger and disappoint. your admiration for him hasn't stopped growing since the day he came to this school. park seonghwa, the slytherin prince. slender frame, porcelain skin, high cheekbones, sharp jawline, plump lips, dark eyes, and an immpeccable posture. he walked the castle with such grace, his cloak following him and flowing in the air behind him. whether it was magic or not, you found yourself utterly captivated, not just by his cloak, but by his very essence. he was, in a word, beautiful.
"i'm- i'm sorry-" you stutter, the sentence not yet formed in your brain. is this really how your first encounter with him will go?
"you absolute fools." he turns around, facing the two boys.
wayne and justin are now the ones stumbling back, audibly gulping. "we're sorry, seonghwa."
"all that over house points?" seonghwa scoffs in disbelief, "well, guess what? you just cost your own house fifty points."
the entire great hall gasps, not used to seeing the prefect this enraged and stern. he avoids public confrontations, curious eyes and gossipy mouths, always opting to pull the troublemakers aside to scold them. he also mostly deducts five points, ten at most. but fifty?
"show is over. go to your classes." he orders to the crowd, and they waste no time in continuing their journey to their classrooms.
overwhelmed by the unfolding situation, you find yourself unable to move. your gaze fixes on seonghwa's polished black shoes, unsure of your next action or words. your first encounter with him wasn't supposed to unfold this way. you intended to sweep him off his feet, exuding confidence and the like. embarrassing yourself and struggling to hold back tears while avoiding his gaze was never in the plan.
"hey, honeydukes. are you alright?"
"i'm fi- honeydukes?" you look at him, brows furrowed. "you know about that nickname?"
he tilts his head, chuckling. "i gave you that nickname."
"you... you gave me that nickname?! do you have any idea how freaking annoying it is..."
"okay, calm down now."
"...to be called that all day every day? even when i've stopped visiting that bloody shop..."
"listen to me."
"...it's haunting me! how dare you?!"
your protest is silenced as he steps closer, cradling your jaw in the palm of his hand to lift your face towards his. the way his dark eyes look down on you makes you feel small and fragile, only being safe because he's holding you. you swallow hard, lips pressed tightly together, not yet trusting yourself to speak.
"i gave you that nickname when i first saw you. in hogsmeade, at honeydukes. i had never seen anyone eat cotton candy so cutely, and nobody would tell me your name until recently i heard it myself. so you became honeydukes. not my fault the rest heard it from me and decided to make their own version of it."
"still..." you are stubborn, not willing to let go so easily.
"tell you what..." he reaches into his pocket, taking out something shiny. you notice it is one of those wrapped chocolate balls, and coincidentally your favorite flavour. "accept this as an apology, and stop sneaking around the library at night. you're going to cost your house more points. and us prefects our sanity."
"a candy? you're bribing me?" you scoff.
he chuckles, then puts one end of the wrapper between his pearly white teeth, while his other hand still holds your jaw. he tugs at the opposite end of the wrapper, loosening it and making the treat more accessible. letting the wrapper drop to the ground, the shiny chocolate appears all the more enticing between his slender fingers.
"open up for me."
lips slowly peeling open, you allow his slender fingers to slip past them and place the treat on your tongue.
"that's a good girl." he purrs, eyes focused on the way your tongue swirls around the chocolate and his fingers. he takes them out, and catching you by surprise, puts them inside his mouth. "well, then. you better get to class."
you nod, gulping and hugging your books to your chest. not knowing what to say to that, or what to say at all, you turn around, ready to get to your next class. but he stops you once again, playfulness evident in his voice.
"and i mean it. stop sneaking around the castle at night. not that i hate other forms of punishment, i don't think it's something you'd enjoy. besides, you need sleep, especially with the upcoming exams."
"okay."
"what? didn't quite catch that."
"yes, sir!" you yell, annoyed and already running up the stairs, almost tripping on your cloak.
"atta girl." seonghwa smiles proudly, walking in the direction of his next class.
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you used to love hogsmeade. then you hated it. now, you love it again. winter has wrapped the village in a festive mood, with christmas just around the corner. streets are dripping with decorations, lights and christmas trees. enchanted instruments are singing songs on the street, people are rushing to buy presents already, and hermione and ron are bickering as always. harry walks by your side, mesmerized by the amount of lights decorating the balconies of the villagers.
"we always go get stupid butterbeers. let's try something else for once!" the girl complains, growing sick of the habit the four of you have formed when arriving at hogsmeade.
"yes, but... it's butterbeer. what else is there to try?" the ginger says, opting for the simple routine.
"merlin, i don't know! just- ugh. what do you say, honeydukes?"
ever since you told them about the incident at the great hall, they've called you nothing but that. you don't hate it anymore. if anything, it reminds you of the slytherin prefect every time you are called. and you don't hate that either.
"i think..." just as you are about to agree with hermione, your eyes notice a group of slytherins entering the three broomsticks. thus, "...ron is right. i mean, butterbeer is butterbeer."
"so bland. fine, let's go."
upon entering, you realize that you have to fight your way to the seats. it is crowded, as though all of hogwarts has chosen the same time and place for drinks. ron is stubborn, tugging hermione, who tugs you, who tugs harry. the wizard chain somehow makes it through the singing and dancing crowd, reaching the end of the tavern and big table where you usually sit. only to find the place occupied.
"hey, that's our seats!" ron complains, pointing at the slytherin boys.
"oh, no. how dare they take our unassigned assigned seats?" the girl rolls her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest.
"go on, honeydukes. say something."
you look at the boy who remained silent until now, confused. "me? why me?"
"well, it's your little boyfriend sitting there. maybe he'll listen to you."
"harry-!" before you can protest, you are nudged in front of the table, prompting all the boys at the table to halt their conversation and turn their heads to look at you. seonghwa raises an eyebrow, amused.
"what is it, half blood?" draco snickers, glancing over at seonghwa for approval. but when seonghwa doesn't acknowledge him, he settles down, hiding behind his half full glass of butterbeer.
"uh, my friends and i... we were just wondering..." you look behind at the three of them, who stand waiting politely as if you were their mother arranging a play date. "...if you could scoot over and let us have one side of the table? since it is a sharing table... and there's only four of us... and four of you. or not. i mean, if you want to. if you don't, that's fine. i'm not ordering you, i'm just... actually, we don't need it. sorry for bothering you. we'll leave now."
you turn around, cheeks and tips of ears ablaze with embarrassment. the trio looks at you with mouths open wide, wondering just what the hell happened to you.
"what the bloody hell was that?" ron says, eyebrows furrowed.
"i-"
"honeydukes?"
your body responds to his voice immediately, turning around and eyes locking into his. he smiles at you, then waves towards the seats that are now empty.
"ah, sweet!" harry cheers, and the two boys throw their belongings on the chairs and rush to the bar to order.
hermione takes a seat first, choosing a spot as far from them as possible. this leaves you with only one option: the chair next to blaise zabini, the boy who, after Seonghwa and Draco, had the most admirers. he doesn't acknowledge you, nor does anyone else, until you start gossiping with hermione and she abruptly stops mid-sentence.
"he's looking at you."
"what? who is?" your head starts to turn itself before thinking, but hermione is quick to slap your arm. "ow!"
"don't look! that prefect, seonghwa. he's looking at you so intensely. it's scary."
"like, scary scary or hot kinda scary?"
"well, i-" she stutters, not yet used to being this open with anyone yet. "the latter."
the boys arrive, ron holding the drinks and harry holding bowls of snacks. they almost throw them on the table, and ron doesn't even wait to sit before taking a big sip of his drink. harry digs into his loaded chips, not intending on offering anyone a bite or two.
the conversation at the other end of the table ceases, causing ron to set his glass down and harry to stop trying to fit the entire bowl into his cheeks. you look at both ends, the situation looking funny, especially with hermione looking embarrassed next to you. the slytherin boys exude sophistication, taking delicate sips of their drinks, sharing a bowl of spicy chili treats, conversing in hushed tones, and maintaining an overall neat and respectful demeanor. the gryffindor boys are a complete contrast; ron with his butterbeer moustache, harry with sauce smeared on his cheek, both flushed and almost reeking of sweat already.
"wufnt sum?" harry says with his mouth full, nudging his half empty bowl towards the other group.
they all look at the prefect, as if he decides whether they can have some or not. "no, thank you, potter. you seem to be enjoying it too much for me to take it away from you. i'd feel bad."
 the groups snickers, and something twitches inside of you. seeing the prefect's cocky and arrogant smile, your interest in him falters. he's no longer looking at you, not even sparing you glances. entertaining his group and bullying the gryffindor boys seemed to be way more interesting. and you've had enough of it.
"so... nice moustache weasley."
"right, we get it." you almost yell, causing them to stop and turn their heads at you. "you're all so smart, and perfect, and purebloods, and we are just laughing stock. i don't need to listen to this, and neither do they."
"oh, feisty." draco comments, earning a glare from seonghwa.
"right, honeydukes. i apologize for my behaviour." the dark haired slytherin smiles at you, but your face stays the same.
"it's not me you should be apologizing to."
"are you dense? how dare you talk to him like that?" the young boy doesn't give up, wanting to fight you no matter what.
"malfoy, sit back." seonghwa says, putting a hand on draco's chest. "potter, weasley. i apologize for my comments."
"'s alright."
"yeah, no worries." they mumble, gazes locked on the table.
awkward silence swallows your corner of the tavern, with the people only staring at the middle of the table and only breathing. seonghwa then slides the untouched bowl of chili treats in the middle, causing the group to look at him.
"how about a game? you know, that muggle one, never have i ever? for each thing that you did, you need to eat a handful of these. you in, gryffindor?"
eager to prove themselves, they straighten their clothes and backs, and focus. hermione sits back, arms stubbornly crossed over her chest. ron nudges her with his elbow, and she rolls her eyes and joins in.
"hufflepuff?" the dark eyed boy tilts his head.
"sure, whatever."
"alright, then. game on."
it starts with innocent questions, such as cheating on exams and gossips. then, it progressively gets more serious and more...
"never have i ever made out with someone in the astronomy tower?"
sexual.
you are not shocked to see that blaise and seonghwa are taking a handful of the spicy treats, but your jaw drops when ron and hermione do the same, exchanging a single glance before blushing and shoving the handful in their mouths. harry shares his surprise with you, jaw equally hanging.
"well, well. little miss granger." seonghwa teases. "good job, ron boy."
"never have i ever... done more than dry humping in an empty owlery?" harry surprises the table with his question.
"what?! you've done that?!" hermione is almost in his face, surprised how she didn't know this about her best friend.
"i might've..." the chosen one smiles, wasting no time in burning his tongue with the treats once again.
your side of the table seems to retreat after that question, the slytherin boys asking about things you didn't ever think of. things that would have dubmbledore kick you out of the school, through the very same astronomy tower everyone seems to mention. the game eventually grows into a conversation, discussing who their favorite partner was, what their most risky situation was, and who they have an eye on recently.
"what about you, honeydukes?" blaise asks, using seonghwa's nickname for you. it just doesn't hit the same.
"what about me?"
"nothing to share? no risky business, no partners, no bad sexual experiences? i mean, have you had any experience at all?"
"of course i have. i'm not a virgin, if that's what you're implying. i've had more bad ones than good ones. having me jerk someone off under the desk while learning about amortentia wasn't exactly my cup of tea."
"oh, you poor thing." draco coos, mockingly.
they all eventually let go, and when you realize that seonghwa hasn't made a comment about you in a while, you look at him. he is already observing you, his expression unreadable. his eyes roam your face, then your hair, and finally your clothes. you feel small under his intense gaze, and you find yourself squirming on the wooden chair. when his eyes catch yours, he blinks, then looks away.
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after a morning of intense studying, practicing flying, and rushing to hogsmeade for potions supplies for the exam tomorrow, you end up sleeping the entire afternoon. when you wake up, it is dark. you hate wasting days, especially because winter ones are so short. you haven't done anything fun for yourself these few weeks, only studying and avoiding the slytherin prefect.
he might've noticed, or perhaps not. you've noticed a few glances here and there, but the hogsmeade encounter made your feelings for him fade. it wasn't a major crush after all, just simple admiration. maybe liking. regardless, he doesn't get in your way. meaning, it might be safe to have one of those late night adventures through the castle. your disillusionment charm has improved, and you'll finally put it to good use.
wearing nothing but your yellow sleeping attire, you slip out of the dormitory and head to the library. the ghosts don't bother you, even if you didn't cast the charm yet. they must've found another victim, especially peeves. that bastard.
no prefect in sight either, which makes you wonder if you're really being that subtle and successful in your late night escapade. perhaps they're toying with you, letting you reach the doors of the library just to stop you and punish you.
yet, it doesn't happen. not when you reach the door, not when you slip past them, and not when you reach the restricted section.
"lumos." you chant, then put the handle of the wand between your teeth so you can see the shelves better.
how sad, you think, sneaking out at night only to come to a library.
mid book browsing, you hear footsteps. hurriedly twirling your wand around yourself, you cast the charm, and crouch.
"nox," you whisper, the wand no longer emitting light from its tip.
the footsteps get closer, with faint whistling being heard. whoever it is, they're either completely oblivious, or they're just keeping you at the edge before revealing themselves.
"little pig, little pig..." the voice sings, and you gasp.
the slytherin prince himself roams the library's forbidden section, each footstep sounding closer to you. you get on your hands and knees, crawling among the shelves in search for a way out. but from this perspective, everything looks different. after all, this isn't your usual view.
"let," step, "me," step, "in."
a hand grabs your hair from behind, pulling your head back just enough to make you yelp. the disillusionment charm wears off, and you groan, defeated.
"well, well. if it isn't the innocent little hufflepuff. no wonder i've been craving sweet since i entered the library."
"will you let go of me?"
"oh, sure thing." he softens his grip, giving you just a taste of freedom before yanking your head again, "what's the magic word? you know, that muggle one?"
"please, please!" you yelp, hands wrapping around his wrist in hopes of convincing him to let go.
he does, then steps back to give you space so you can get up. fixing your sleepwear, you fail to see his amused grin as he stares at you. when you finally look up at him, he has his usual prefect serious face on.
"now, what do you have to say for yourself?"
"sorry, it won't happen again." you should tattoo that on yourself next time you're in muggle world, it comes like a good morning to you. "i'll see myself out."
"oh, no, no." the man stops you, grabbing your elbow. "you don't get away with a sorry. not anymore. remember what i said last time?"
"uh... something about different forms of punishment?" you remember.
"that's right. good girl." his voice seems to drop a few octaves, causing you to subconsciously squeeze your thighs together. "now, how many?"
"what?"
"how many?"
"how many what?"
"spanks, sweetheart."
"you're-" you choke on your spit, "you're going to spank me?"
"oh, would you rather lose points? again?" he tilts his head, fake worry painted on his features.
"well, no, but-"
"deducting points doesn't seem to work on you anyways. i'll have to try a different approach. usually works." he steps towards you, making you step back.
"usually? you uh... you spank other people?" you dare ask.
"why?" he continues his slow steps.
"just asking."
"jealous?"
"why would i be?"
"i don't know." he shrugs, then looks around checking for intruders. "a little bird told me you have a crush on me."
your back hits the shelves, and you gasp. he stops in front of you, still maintaining a small distance. you stutter, not knowing what to say. do you have a crush on him?
"i certainly don't."
"oh." he furrows his eyebrows, "you sure?"
"yes." your voice comes out raspy, and you clear your throat. "yes, absolutely."
"honeydukes?"
"yes?"
"are you trying to convince yourself, or me?"
"i don't have a crush on you, seonghwa." you try to sound as convincing as possible.
"good. then, this interaction won't have any side effects besides teaching you a lesson. now, how many?"
you want to say a small number, like two or three. but if it happens to feel good, you won't have the guts to ask for more. oh how foolish, how can spanking be good?
"tick-tock, hufflepuff. if you don't decide, i will for you. and trust me, you do not want that."
he isn't touching you, hell, he isn't even looking at you. yet he has power over you like nobody ever had before, making you stand still against the bookshelves and wait for his instructions.
"ten," you simply say.
"ten? not one, two?" seonghwa is surprised with your answer, figuring you'd choose a smaller number.
"i didn't think you'd accept one or two. or would you?"
"smart girl. no, i wouldn't. now, what was your favorite subject again? charms, herbology?"
"dark arts," you reply, catching him off guard once again. of course he didn't see it coming. you're sneaking out to go to a library, you're a hufflepuff for merlin's sake, and you stand here in front of him, looking up at him with those wide innocent eyes of yours. who would guess dark arts?
"well, then," he swirls his black wand around both of you, turning you invisible once again, "lead the way, honeydukes."
and you do, having him follow you all the way to the defence against the dark arts classroom. you'd be lying if you said nervous sweat hasn't washed you over three times by the time you reach it. when the door closes, it's like time stops. this is it.
"won't umbridge hear? what if she's still in her office?" you whisper.
"muffliato." he simply casts, sparks flying between the desks, up the staircase at the end of the classroom, and through the doors of umbridge's office. "go on."
you keep walking, all the way to her desk. seonghwa plunges on the comfy professor's chair, then motioned for you to step closer. you barely step close to him, and he pushes you over his lap, causing you to squeak unintentionally. you hold onto his thigh, the position not the most comfortable one.
"count." the slytherin prefect demands.
his big hand lands on your bottom, making you jolt. "one."
his other hand rests on the small of your back, keeping you still so you stop squirming. only three more spanks later, you're already shuffling uncomfortably.
"two, three, four," you say, voice slowly cracking.
"but i'm barely halfway there yet, my hufflepuff princess. don't break on me just yet." he coos, voice soft and comforting, a great contrast to his actions.
you sniff, hand hurriedly wiping a tear that threatened to escape. seonghwa doesn't halt, even if he saw that. instead, he spanks you harder and harder, sparing no inch of your skin of the burning sensation.
"five, six, seven." you shudder, bracing yourself for more. only three more.
"almost there, sweetheart. you're doing so good for me." his other hand caresses your hair, removing it from your face and letting it fall aside. seeing you all teared up and flushed, something new sparks inside of him. "so pretty."
he can't help himself, his hand abusing your sore bottom, exceeding the amount that you both agreed on. you keep counting, not asking him to stop. he lands a final one, deciding it is enough once you let out the first cry.
"t-twenty," you sob, hiding your face in his black slacks.
when his hand touches your bottom again, you expect it to be another hit. instead, his hand caresses it, helping to soothe the pain. it lasts mere seconds, before you feel him raise the top of your pajama, then pull on the bottom. he exposes your red bottom to the cool classroom air, and you can't help but whine at the loss of contact.
"you did so good, my love." seonghwa coos, fingers running through your hair as he waits for you to collect yourself.
once you do, you realize that the burning sensation isn't only on your butt cheeks. you also feel it between your legs, briefs soaked with arousal.
"did you learn the lesson?" his hand finds its spot under your chin, raising your head so he can look at you properly.
"yes." you say, failing to maintain eye-contact with him. maybe it's the guilt, or maybe simply the way he looks at you. either way, you opt to stare at his perfectly ironed and buttoned up prefect attire.
"want me to make it feel better?"
you shrug, not quite sure what you wanted anyway. his hand slips from under your chin to your neck, catching you off guard, his fingers squeezing the sides of it. he presses lightly into your skin, the other hand adjusting your bottom so that it is higher up and your core easily accessible. a moan escapes your lips, feeling his digits find your clit so easily.
"oh, you poor thing. you're absolutely soaked. is that why you're crying? not from the pain, but from lack of attention?"
when you don't reply, he only chuckles, pressing into your neck more.
"i'll take good care of you, honeydukes."
he moves your briefs aside, digits circling your clit softly, before slipping into your aching hole. you bite into the fabric of his pants, but he stops you, instead offering his finger to bite on. he still holds onto your neck with his thumb and the rest of the fingers, his index finger popped into your mouth to muffle any noise you have to offer him.
hearing your own hole squelch as his fingers pump in and out of you makes a new rush of arousal wash over your folds. his fingers are long, very long. he curves them, spreads them, then removes them from your hole, only to spread your slick all over your clit and abuse it.
you're a drooling mess on his lap, eyes turning back at the pure pleasure he is gracing you with. your hips hopelessly push back, looking for anything to fill you up. he notices, removing his hand from your core, before standing you up and pushing you to sit on the desk. with a single motion, he shreds your briefs to bits, stuffing them into his pocket and attaching his mouth to your aching core.
you fall back on the desk, head hanging from it and overlooking the empty classroom. your brain creates various images for you as seonghwa's hot tongue swipes across your folds, imagining the classroom full of students as seonghwa feasts on you in front of them. were you weird for that?
"not at all, princess."
"stop reading my mind, prefect." you tug on his hair, a form of punishment for intruding your thoughts.
"can't help it, not when you're dripping all over my face."
his fingers find their way into your clenching hole again, curling upwards and finding a spot nobody ever had before. a moan escapes you, echoing through the classroom, and your other hand pushes seonghwa's head further into your cunt.
he chuckles against you, his own hands holding your thighs so you don't suffocate him. you feel yourself inching closer, hips desperately grinding on his mouth and nose, eager to feel a proper orgasm. he pulls away once again, making you whine and groan.
"my, i've spoiled you." he raises an eyebrow, amused at the glares you're sending him. he stands up, working on his zipper. he doesn't take his pants off, deciding to keep his prefect uniform on. it only makes the situation hotter, your brain finally realizing just what you're doing.
you're messing with a prefect, in the middle of the night, in a classroom, right under a professor's nose.
"kiss me." you ask, voice small. red paints your cheeks; you wanted to sound more confident than that.
"you want to taste yourself on my tongue, princess?"
"yes, please."
"since you asked so nicely."
he helps you stand again, hands firm on your waist, and lips finally attached to yours. your arms wrap around his neck, hungrily bringing his body closer to yours. you indeed taste yourself on his tongue, seonghwa not wasting a second in pushing through your soft lips in search for your hot muscle. the sound of kissing echoes in the classroom, the setting hotter than your wildest dreams. seonghwa is a dreamy kisser, making you feel wanted, hot and appreciated at the same time. his lips never leave yours, not even when your fingers tangle in his hair and pull at it with ecstasy. he only moans softly into your mouth, giving you a wave of confidence.
your hand slides down his chest, to the button of his pants, and finally to the zipper. you reach into it, pulling his hard cock out, before giving it a few slow pumps. he sighs into your lips, pulling away for a few moments. his forehead rests against yours, his body falling in control of your one hand. your thumb swipes over the tip, collecting the slick and spreading it over him. his hips rock with your hand, whines and moans deliciously filling your ears. it feels powerful to have him tremble in your hands, desperate and yearning for your touch and attention. this must be what he feels on a daily basis. and it must feel fucking amazing.
"you're full of surprises, aren't you?" he teases, and you tease back by squeezing his cock. he gasps, but chuckles regardless. "you're just a little brat, waiting to be stuffed like a bad girl. i know it."
with a swift motion, seonghwa turns you around, your still clothed tits pressing against the hard wooden desk and head pushed on the side. he slides into you without warning or teasing, so easily and perfectly. he wastes no time in holding your hips still, smashing his own into you and burying his cock deep in your hole. your walls swallow each inch he offers you, having both of you moan and groan at the pleasure.
"fuck-" he curses, eyes planted on the place where the two of you connect. "fuck, honeydukes- you're going to be the death of me."
"do you- ah!" he snaps his hips into yours once again, each thrust more forceful than the other, "do you do this with others sneaking out at night?"
"i knew you were jealous. so you do have a little crush on me?" he chuckles breathlessly.
"maybe. and maybe." you groan, hands gripping the edges of the desk.
"no, baby. i don't. you're the only one whose cunt i'm going to fill up, again and again. until you've learned your lesson properly."
it is your turn to chuckle now. "if this is your form of punishment, i might start sneaking around while you're on duty more often."
"oh, my hufflepuff princess. if you want me, you can have me any time you want. all day, every day. all you have to do is ask."
the conversation stops, as do his hips, when the doors on top of the stairs open.
"who's there?"
you try looking back at seonghwa, eyes full of fear. his cock twitches in your hole, the riskiness of the situation arousing to him.
"hush, love." he whispers, hand pushing your head down against the cold wood again.
his hips start moving gently, slowly stretching your hole again. you're in shock, not believing that he'd actually continue as the professor walks down the stairs in her own sleeping attire. her eyes skim over the room, trying to find anything unusual. but the silencing spell seems to be working, just like the disillusionment one, making umbridge unaware of your presence. a very... lewd presence.
"merlin, i can't take it anymore. i'm sorry, love."
not giving you a chance to ask why he's apologizing, you soon learn as his hand pulls your hair back and his other one grips your bruised bottom. his hips snap into yours with speed and accuracy, hitting the right spots and bringing you closer to release.
"seonghwa-" you moan.
"yes, love?"
"i want-" you moan again, then beg, "i want to see you, touch you."
he pulls away, helping your limp body in a different position. the professor is ignored, even when she comes dangerously close to the desk. it sends a new wave of arousal to your core, just in time for seonghwa to slide into you again.
"look at that," he sighs, looking at your belly.
you follow his gaze, seeing the outline of his cock on it. your hands bring his head closer so you can kiss him, with equal hunger as before. he continues pounding into you, chasing his own orgasm.
"right, there better not be anyone. i'm not in the mood for any tricks!" umbridge threatens, causing both of you to chuckle into each others mouths.
"this is kind of hot," you admit.
"as much as it is, i want her to go away as soon as possible. i just can't cum when i see her face."
you laugh, glancing at the professor one more time. as if she heard, she listens, angrily stomping upstairs and slamming the door shut.
"uh, speaking of temperatures, i know this is crazy, but i am feeling a bit chilly." you admit, the winter air entering the classroom and hitting your naked skin. after all, you were only in your thin sleepwear, having heavy covers on your bed that kept you warm. seonghwa wastes no time in taking off his prefect cloak, helping you put it on and planting a kiss on your forehead.
"you look beautiful in green, my pretty hufflepuff."
blush paints your cheeks, his scent enveloping you and sending a fresh batch of butterflies to your stomach. you never noticed it before, but he smells of forest moss and after rain stone, with a hint of potions ingredients. it is intoxicating, entering your organism and threatening to never leave.
"oh, merlin," seonghwa throws his head back, lost in pure pleasure as your hole swallows him, the outline of his cock on your belly adding to it all and helping him get closer to his goal. "fuck- fuck-"
he's absolutely dashing, a thin layer of sweat shining on his face and making his dark locks stick to his forehead. his lips are plump from you biting and sucking on them, slightly parted and letting out little gasps and moans. he unbuttons the first few buttons of his uniform, not having a problem with the cold. you're a moaning mess, just like him, completely letting go of every thought you had until now, simply giving yourself to him and admiring him.
you feel full of him, and just when you thought you couldn't feel fuller, seonghwa hisses, spilling his load in you and creating more squelching sounds as he rides out his orgasm, pushing in and out of you sloppily.
it doesn't take long for you to reach your own, the knot in your stomach exploding as his tip slams mercilessly into your soft spot, making you grip his arms, shoulders, hair, anything you could reach. he works you through your high, not missing a single face or sound you make.
you're exhausted, struggling to catch your breath. the recovery lasts longer than usual, seonghwa having wrecked you inside out. his hands gently remove your hair from your face so he can take a good look at you.
"you're good, love. breathe." he coos, caressing your cheek and blowing into your face to cool you off.
"thank you," you blurt out.
"what for?" the slytherin prefect laughs at your innocence.
"i don't know. this, i guess. i've never enjoyed sex, always saw it as a chore. and i never felt desired, just objectified."
"well," the dark haired slytherin pecks your forehead, then your nose, and finally your lips, "you don't have to worry about that anymore. i've never desired anyone the way i desire you, and i think i just proved it to you how much. you don't have to fear those things with me anymore."
"park seonghwa, are you subtly asking me to be your girlfriend?" you shyly ask, knowing that you might be wrong and embarrass yourself in front of him. to your relief, he pecks your lips once again.
"perhaps. only if you want to. if not, then i'm not asking."
"perhaps i want to."
"perhaps that makes me happy."
"you're crazy." you laugh, and he joins.
seonghwa does one more thing no other partner has ever done for you; he helps you get cleaned, then dressed, and walks you to the doors of your common room.
"if you do decide to sneak off again, please do let me know. wouldn't want other prefects to find you and steal your heart."
you nod, and with a longer kiss, finally part ways with him. he waits until you finish your usual rhythmic tapping on the barrels, until the doors open, and finally, until you disappear into your common room and back to the dormitory.
you notice the sun already rising, and hurry to jump back in bed.
"excuse me? is that a slytherin cloak on you?"
you freeze in your tracks, the cloak ready to slide off you and hide under your pillow. the girl on the bed to your left doesn't give up, now sitting up and staring at you wide eyed.
"and a prefect one too?!" the voice on the right joins, waking up the rest of the room and bringing attention to you.
fuck.
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plathfiles · 6 months
Text
Wildest Dreams | BW
pairing: bale!bruce wayne x fem!reader
warnings: tooth rotting fluff, not proof read, Bruce being lovesick, established relationship. lmk if I missed anything
a/n: send me requests 🥺🥺 also lmk if you want to be on the tag list
taglist: @bumblebeesfromvenus @allysunny @junmsli
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☽☽☽
Bruce Wayne had lived a difficult life. Well maybe not as difficult as one would expect. He was a rich playboy with a mansion and had a butler. But losing his parents at a young age took a tole on the man.
You were Bruce’s sunlight, guiding him away from the darkness inside him. Of course, as Batman he made Gotham a better place. But you, you made Bruce Wayne a better person.
You and Bruce had plans tonight. As his day job of being a rich philanthropist and carrying on the Wayne legacy, he must attend and host gala’s for Gotham’s elite.
Tonight was one of those Gala’s. The Williams family made a large donation to fund a homeless shelter in Gotham. This meant, a lot of the homeless population in Gotham would be properly housed instead of living on the street and resulting to crime.
Bruce was never one to like Gala’s. He thought the people whom attended them were ingenuine and cared more about their appearance instead of actually helping the city.
You tried to tell him that at least the money would help. Bruce couldn’t argue with that. You were right. Their money would help Gotham, but their attitude was atrocious.
One night, Bruce had gotten visibly jealous as he caught a man — who used to be one of this father’s close confidants — hitting on you at the open bar.
“And do you know what I said to my fellow soldiers?” The creepy old man asked.
You were not interested in the conversation. He was very clearly flirting with you and it made you uncomfortable. “No, I don’t,” you said, vaguely and uninterested.
Suddenly a warm and comforting hand wrapped around your waist. A familiar kiss pressed against your cheek. You turned and a smile graced your features. Bruce.
“Did you tell them you’re flirting with someone who is old enough to be your daughter?” Bruce said to the old man. “If you will excuse us, we have to talk to Commissioner Gordon.”
As Bruce swept you away, he pinched your side playfully. “Thank you,” you said up to his ear.
“Couldn’t stand the thought of anyone else getting close to you. Especially an old creep like him,” he said.
You liked when Bruce got possessive, although you would let him know that. You wouldn’t be able to live it down.
You were currently getting ready for tonight’s gala, standing infront of your large mirror and putting on your diamond jewelry. It was a present that Bruce had gifted you.
“You look breathtaking,” Bruce said. Think of the devil and he shall appear. He’d leaning against the wall, looking at you in the mirror. You look at him, seeing him in the glass.
“Thank you,” you say softly, a blush covering your cheeks.
Bruce is wearing a fancy suit and a navy blue tie to match the color of your dress. You fix a diamond earring and then turn around to face him. Walking, towards him.
“Your tie is crooked Mr. Wayne,” you smile, fixing his tie.
He hums in response, placing his hands delicately on your waist. “What would I do without you?” Bruce asked softly.
You smile back at him, placing a reassuring kiss on his cheek.
During the gala, Bruce pulled you to him on the dance floor. “Dance with me?” He gently asked.
You nodded in agreement and placed your hand in his. Bruce placed a hand on your waist and connected your other hand. The classical music surrounding the dance floor, enveloped you both completely.
Your head rested on his shoulder and he looked down at you with such content and happiness. “I love you,” Bruce whispered.
Bruce had never shared this information before now. He’d thought it obviously, how could he not love you — be in love with you.
You looked up at him, your beautiful eyes staring back at his. “I love you too Bruce,” you replied.
It was simple and sweet. Bruce and you deserved a quiet night in each others company.
Bruce leaned forward to kiss you. Returning the kiss you moved your arms to wrap around his neck. He pulled you close.
From across the ballroom, a photographer snapped a picture. You two looked like Gotham’s happiest couple. Bruce had found the woman of his dreams and his home.
“You’re my wildest dreams,” Bruce said softly, rubbing his nose against your own. “I’m never letting you go.”
“Good,” you smiled contently.
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clockwayswrites · 8 months
Text
City Pigeons - Part 10
WC: 817, Masterpost
Jason sighed as the tablet in his hands flashed with alerts. “You shouldn’t be here.”
“How did the meeting with Black Bat go?” Bruce asked instead of responding, because of course he did.
“You know it went fine,” Jason said, trying not to snap. “Besides, everyone likes her, there was a good chance it was always going to go fine.”
“We both know trauma isn’t always that easy,” Bruce said, his tone carefully modulated to be gentle. It rankled Jason, like it always did.
Jason took a breath and let his chin drop to his chest for a moment. Bruce didn’t mean it like that. He knew that now. This was Bruce trying as best as he was able— it wasn’t just another mask. Bruce just had to put effort into emotions that made it seem forced. Jason pushed away his flair of temper; it was harder to do than he’d like after too much worry and too little sleep.
“Ja—”
“I’m fine. It’s just like you said, trauma isn’t always that easy. I’m fine,” Jason said as he waved the concern away. “And names. You know we’re sticking to code names still.”
Bruce tilted his head, observing Jason through the white lenses. (That used to rankle too.)
“You thinking there’s a chance he’ll run.”
Jason sighed. He gave an exaggerated shrug to cover the worry that ran through him at the question. “Not run, exactly. I think he doesn’t believe that he can stay— that it’s even on the table. I think that we’re his last hope and he doesn’t believe in hope anymore.”
Bruce didn’t move. Jason gave him time to think that over.
“That’s why he doesn’t want to see… Wayne,” Bruce said, slowly, like he was feeling the idea out. “He doesn’t expect to get anything from him so it’s better to be healed up first.”
Jason shrugged again.
“Figure so. But also once that meeting happens, whatever happens, then all of this,” Jason motioned to the safe house, “is over as far as he knows. If he puts off the meeting, he puts off the risk of losing the first safety that I think he’s hand in a long, long time.”
Bruce’s shoulders hunched and he almost blended back into the shadows by the window. “If he’s already posed for it to go badly…”
“B, that’s not your fault,” Jason said— had to say. “The kid’s been through hell, maybe by his own family, of course he’s going to expect the worst.”
It was a long moment and then Bruce nodded, just once. “What’s the plan?”
If Jason really had his way, the plan would be to deal with all these ill feelings, but that’s not what anyone in the family was good at, him included. It would be what it would be.
“We’ll have BB over again for a meal tomorrow. I’m sure it will keep going well and she can help be on watch that night. We think it’s best to give that a few days before we introduce O or anyone else new, so you have to keep the rest of the horde reigned in,” Jason said pointedly. Then a though occurred to him. “Where is the little spawn anyways?”
“He’s on the roof across the block.”
“Yeah, is he? Because that was a lot of alerts—”
“Hood!”
Jason didn’t think before he was striding across the room towards Danny’s room. The kid was standing in the door. White hair stark in the low light. Green eyes bright.
Glowing.
Wide with fear.
“Danny?”
“Someone else is here,” Danny said. His voice was almost too quiet to hear, but Jason could half swear he felt it in his very bones. Danny reached out and clung onto the sleeve of Jason’s hoodie. A cold settled into Jason’s bones along with the vibration of the soft words. “Someone touched by death. Can you feel them too? They’re not not like us. They haven’t died. They haven’t died, but they reek of death. Hood, what are they?”
“Hey, it’s okay. You’re safe here, remember?” Jason assured Danny automatically. The words rolled out of his mouth without Jason having to even think about them, which was good, because Jason’s mind was still caught on Danny’s words: They’re not like us. They haven’t died. “Some Bats just stopped by to check on us.”
Was it Bruce? Did all of Gotham’s death cling to his shoulders like his cape?
Was it Damian? Was it the stench of the Pits?
Or did Jason miss something else slipping in with all of the other alarms.
“We’ll go check on Nightwing together, alright? I bet he has a little red and black guest who slipped in,” Jason said. He twisted his hand to hold Danny’s. The cold bit at his skin. He didn’t let go.
He hoped he was right.
He had a hard time believing in hope too.
---
AN: A myyyyyyyystery *wiggly fingers*. Gods I'm so tired.
I no longer tag, you can subscribe to the masterpost instead!
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disillusioneddanny · 1 year
Text
Welcome to the Family DPXDC
And yes, he was thankful for that space, honestly, he needed it more than he could even explain. Every time he closed his eyes he saw his parents strapping him down to the operating table. To his sister finding him when she came back for spring break three months later and trying to rip Jack away from Danny’s broken body, only for her to be thrown back. They said that she had hit her head on in just the right spot on the corner of the table. That her death had been painless. Danny had waited, hoping to see his sister come back as a ghost but she never did.
The anger had welled up inside of him, though, enough for him to break out of his bindings and run to Sam’s house for help. From there it had been quick. The Fentons had no proof that Danny was a ghost, Jazz was dead in their lab and Danny had a large vivesection wound held together by pins and needles.
From there it had gone by fast. Bruce Wayne had heard his story and opened his doors to him, an offer that Danny was quick to accept considering his only other option was Vlad and that was a major no for him. Danny had gotten stitched up rather quickly and the Fentons had been taken to trial where they had both been found incompetent by the courts and were sent to some prison for the mentally insane in the midwest. Thank the Ancients it wasn’t Arkham.
But things were starting to settle now. Danny was healed up. They had finally held a funeral for Jazz. And he was set to start school at Gotham Academy with his new little brother, Damian. Things were finally starting to settle.
Things were starting to settle and Danny was finally able to really look at his new family and notice the strange things about them. Honestly, coming from a weird family himself, he was more able to spot the bullshit from others. The first he had noticed was Damian. Apparently he hadn’t ocme to live with the Waynes until he was ten and Bruce had discovered he had a biiological son he had never known about.
Damian was fourteen now and he wasn’t normal, if Danny was going to be honest. Danny knew that the teenager had at least four weapons on him at all times. He had thrown a knife at Danny’s head one of his first nights here when Danny had made a joke that the kid didn’t like. He also struggled to understand common cues and comments, but not in a neurodivergent way. In a way that he had genuinely grown up without ever hearing about those things and it had Danny curious.
The others were strange too. Tim seemed like he had never slept, like he barely operated at all. Duke always looked at Danny like he had seen a ghost and tended to keep his distance more than their other siblings did. Cass looked at him the same way some of Danny’s rogues did, like she was watching his every single move. Jason reeked of death every time Danny saw him. The souls that latched onto him showed that he had taken quite a few lives. And not only that, but everyone in this family smelled and felt like they had all died and come back. He had never met a family so liminal outside of Amity Park.
Even Dick, the most normal of the siblings was liminal. It was throwing Danny for a loop because no one else in Gotham seemed to feel this way. So what were they hiding? Was this why they wanted Danny to join their family? Because like called to like and they knew Danny was something different?
Or was Bruce telling the truth when he had said that he had seen a teenage boy lose everything in a day and decided he couldn’t not help out?
It had been two months now and if he was going to be really honest, Danny was starting to grow bored. No more ghost fights, no more running from the Fentons, hell Bruce had even decided that he was going to go after the GIW and the Anti-Ecto Acts because even though he didn’t know Danny was actually a ghost, he found the acts ghastly and problematic. Danny nearly hugged him when he had said so. But the more bored he got, the more curious he seemed to get as well, he needed to know what was going on with this family.
“It’s not like they would know if I decided to take a look around. I live here,” he murmured to himself, staring at the fire crackling within the fireplace, still chewing on his thumbnail. “All I’m doing is seeing what kind of fruit loop my new dad is. All billionaires hide something and Bruce is definitely hiding something,” he reasoned to himself.
The halfa shook his head, the curiosity was going to drive him absolutely insane if he didn’t go and snoop. He stood from where he laid curled up on the couch and trekked back up to his bedroom. A room that was literally through times the size of his old bedroom.
It was still hard to believe that this was his life now. He carefully locked his bedroom door and felt the familiar rings of light wash over him before he transformed into his ghost form. The sixteen year old smiled at the familiar feel of intangibility wash over him and he slowly sunk through the floor, staying invisible as he went through each room of the house that was not a bedroom, looking through each one carefully to see if anything jumped out at him.
Then he made it to Bruce’s office just as Bruce himself stepped out of a door hidden behind an old grandfather clock and that’s when Danny knew he had caught him. Of course this was too good to be true! Bruce was far too perfect to not have something hidden deep inside.
He flew through the wall and found himself in an elevator and frowned before continuing down, down, down until he found himself in a large cave underneath the cave.
“Holy shit Batman,” he whispered as he started to fly around the stalacites, taking in the Batcomputer, the weird prizes the different vigilantes had one in their countless rogue fights. His eyes widened as he found Tim typing furiously at the Batcomputer, bags deep under his eyes and Danny took a look at what he was working on and held back a gasp.
When Bruce had said he was going to get rid of the GIW and the Anti-Ecto Acts he hadn’t really thought too much of it. It was Bruce Wayne, the playboy extraordinare who cared about all social causes that came across his desk.
But to know that the Bats were investigating it? With the Justice League? Danny’s mind was blown. He watched as Tim fought through the firewalls that Danny, Tucker, and Technus had set up to keep Amity Park a secret from the rest of the world and glanced down at his new older brother before back up at the screen and let out a sigh.
He could at least make their job easier.
He flew into the computer and started to break through each of the firewalls that they had put in place one by one before Tucker and Technus zoomed in on him.
Tucker had become just liminal enough to learn how to go into technology. He gave Danny a disapproving look as Technus stared at all the hard work they had done be ruined by Danny.
“What are you doing in here?” Tucker demanded, his eyes bright green as he stared Danny down.
“Red Robin is trying to get rid of the acts,” Danny said with a small smile. “Let him learn everything he can. I trust the Bats.”
Tucker and Technus scowled.
“Fine, Ghost Boy. Now get out of our territory before you destroy it even more,” Technus said, glaring at Danny over his sunglasses. Danny just grinned and flew out of the computer once more to find Tim dialing a number on his cellphone furiously.
“Babs! I finally got in! I don’t know what happened but all of the firewalls fell and Jesus Christ it’s worse than I thought. The Fentons recorded their experiments on Danny,” he said and Danny shuddered as he looked at the scream, hearing his screams fall on deaf ears. He had Tucker hide all of the video tapes as soon as he could to make sure that no one would see proof that Danny was more than just a human. But if they were going to get rid of the Anti-Ecto Acts then they needed all the proof that they could get that ghosts were sentient creatures.
He flew out of the Batcave quickly and made it back to his room where he turned back into his human form. Now he needed to decide. Did he tell the Waynes that he knew their secret? Or did he leave it alone?
He pursed his lips and fell back onto his bed as he fell into thought about it. Once Tim got through all of the videos, he was going to know that Danny was different, that he wasn’t just a normal human boy. Especially when he would get to the part where they cut Danny’s arm off and it grew back just a few days later.
Right now the ball was in his court, though. He knew that the bats were going to know that he was different, but he didn’t know if they were going to say anything about it. He could play with this. He grinned to himself.
He could have some fun with this.
“Danny! Dinner’s ready!” Duke called through his door and Danny grinned and headed out, already having come up with a plan for how he’s going to fuck with the bats.
He wanted to see how far he could push them until they admitted that they knew his secret and and that they were the bats. He wondered how long his new family could hold out before giving in and saying something.
So with that, Danny opened the door and grinned at Duke, who he now realized was the day time hero signal and explained why he not only kept his distance but looked at Danny like he had a second head most of the time. Now that he thought about it, Duke probably could see his true form and wouldn’t that be fun to mess with.
While Phantom was technically tucked away in Danny’s core, he was visible for those who could see beyond the veil. Duke was someone who could see beyond that veil and if Danny focused just enough he could alter his ghost form without even being in that form.
“Hey, thanks for grabbing me,” Danny said, imagining Phantom with ecto dripping from his eye sockets, his fangs grew longer and longer and his eyes turned pitch black. Phantom was looking like he came straight from a nightmare from what Danny could see in his mind’s eye and he smiled as Duke cringed away from him slightly.
“Of course,” he stammered out nervously. “Are you doing okay?”
Danny grinned, perking up slightly. “Yeah, I’m doing great actually. I’m really excited for school tomorrow. Why do you ask?”
Duke just shook his head and shuddered lightly. “No reason.”
The two continued down to the dinner table and took their seats. Tim trudged in just a few minutes later and his eyes immediately fell onto Danny’s form. His eye twitched slightly as they raced up and down Danny’s body, taking in all of Danny’s limbs and noting that his facial features were all there.
“Are you okay, Tim?” Danny asked with a frown, his lips twisting up slightly.
Tim just stared at him warily and nodded once. “I am, are you? Doing okay, that is?” He asked, nerves apparent in his voice.
Danny just smiled and tilted his head to the side. “Yeah, as far as I can tell I’m okay. It’s funny, Duke was worried about my wellbeing too. It’s really nice, though. I wish I had someone asking if I was okay when my parents had removed my eyes during one of their sessions with me,” he said just as Alfred set a plate before him, the porcelain clattering against the table as he tried to recover from shock.
“You mean like, blindfolded you, right?” Dick asked hesitantly, looking up from his own plate of food and Danny just grinned and shook his head.
“Nope,” he said, popping the P. “I’m pretty sure my da-Jack used a melon baller to remove them, it was very painful and weird experience,” he said with a slight shudder. It was the frist time he had mentioned out loud some of the trauma he had experienced at the hands of the Fentons. And if he was being honest, it felt rather cathartic for him to actually talk about the torutre he had endured. Sure, judging from the horrified expressions of his new family members, it might not be hte most comfortable conversation but for him, it was nice to just say it, out loud.
His parents had tortured him. Had ripped him apart molecule by molecule and his body just forced him to regenerate, the electric ectoplasm that brought him back that fateful day in the portal continued to live inside of him, continued to bring him back from death over and over. It had made him realize that there’s a good chance that he was immortal. That his human half may never actually die.
And that was a terrifying thought.
Danny just happily continued eating his dinner, ignoring the horrified stares all around him. Oh yeah, this was going to be so much fun, he could feel it in his core.
….
It was a few nights later when Danny woke up to his stomach growling at like three in the morning. And of course, that mean he needed to go down to the kitchens and rifle through the refrigerator to find something to eat.
In all honesty, he had a major hankering for some fruit loops. Which led to him digging through the pantry that Alfred kept stocked up on all of Dick’s favorite cereals since he was the one who primarily ate them. He let his eyes glow in the dark as he searched, too lazy to turn on the lights and not particularly wanting to have the light ruin his post sleep glow. He dug around until finally find the box of sugary, fruity goodness and silently cheered to himself. Now he just needed to get some milk and a bowl and he would be a very happy ghost.
Danny allowed the box to float to the kitchen counter before he skipped towards the fridge and hummed. Did he want oatmilk, almond milk, whole milk, ancients there were so many options for milk.
He let out a hiss as the lights flickered on in the kitchen and slowly allowed his head to spin around on his neck to glare at whomever was evil enough to turn on the lights in the middle of the night. An ear piercing scream shook through the manor as Dick scrambled away from Danny and oh what a sight Danny was to see. His hair was bird’s nest on his head, his eyes were glowing bright green and he had twisted his head around his neck one hundred sixty degrees and let out an inhuman hiss.
Dick slammed his back against the wall as Danny allowed his eyes to turn blue once again and his head spun back around to normal just as Bruce and Tim came running into the room.
“What is it?” Danny asked innocently, cocking his head to the side, blinking his eyes owlishly at Dick. The poor vigilante was white as a sheet as he stared at Danny in horror. Bruce looked between his sons curiously.
“Three am cereal?” He asked, the corners of his eyes crinkling slightly as he smiled at Danny. “I think I may make myself a bowl as well. How about you, Dick? Tim?”
“I-I think I’m going to go home to Bludhaven,” Dick stammered out, unable to look at Danny.
“Oh, well I hope you get home safe. Text me when you get home so I know you made it safely,” Bruce said cluelessly as he walked over to start making his own bowl of cereal. Tim gave Danny a wary look before he shook his head.
“I’m heading back to bed,” Tim muttered and Danny smiled to himself as he poured himself a large bowl of cereal.
“How are you doing, Chum? Are you getting settled?” Bruce asked, looking Danny over for a moment. Danny nodded and took a bite.
“You know that I know that you know,” he said simply as he chewed his cereal.
“I do,” Bruce said simply. “It’s pretty entertaining to watch the others.”
Danny swallowed his bite of cereal and grinned. “Glad you think so because this is the most fun I’ve had since you adopted me.”
“It will be good training for the others,” Bruce said as he poured himself a bowl of–
“You have your own brand of cereal!?” Danny exclaimed, looking at the cereal called Batman Crunch.
Bruce smiled. “Unfortunately, I don’t get any of the royalties for it. But it’s cookies and cream flavored,” he said before looking at the milk that Danny had pulled out, and poured some into his bowl. “Oatmilk, good choice.”
“I like the flavor,” he said with a shrug.
“Just so you know, if you ever want to join the nightlife, you’re welcome to it. But from what I understand, you never wanted it in the first place,” he said and Danny nodded his head.
“Too much work. For now, I just want to focus on school. Maybe when I graduate high school I’ll join you guys. But for now, I just want to focus on recovery and graduation. I appreciate all the space you’re giving me,” Danny said softly, stirring his spoon around in his bowl. Bruce just smiled and leaned his arms against the counter as he took a bite of his cereal.
“Of course. And when you’re ready to talk about it, without trying to scare your siblings, we can talk about it,” he said.
“You’re not mad?” Danny asked, glancing up at the older man. “That I didn’t tell you about me being, being dead? Or that I was a hero or how bad the Fentons,” he stopped and shuddered slightly. He couldn’t say the words out loud. It was one thing to joke about them removing body parts, it was easy to call them sessions. But to say out loud how badly he had been tortured? He couldn’t do it.
“Of course I’m not mad, Honey, you went through a very rough and traumatic time. Take all the time you need and we’ll be here for you as you heal and recover. And if any of your brothers or sister give you a hard time, I’ll tell them I was in on it.”
“How’d you know about me?” Danny asked before he took a bite of his fruitloops.
“Phantom disappeared the same time Danny Fenton allegedly ran away. Not to mention just taking one look at Phantom you can see the resemblance.”
“Phantom has blue skin!” Danny argued.
“And the exact same facial structure, Phantom just has a more prominent lichtenburg scar that you also have, just not nearly as noticeable.”
Danny hummed. “Guess they don’t call you the world’s greatest detective for nothin’,” he muttered before he picked up his bowl and started to drink the milk.
Bruce just chuckled and patted Danny’s back once he finished. “Get some sleep, Kiddo,” he said softly. Danny gave him a salute, a milk mustache on his face as he floated up in the air and through the ceilings to get back to his room.
Danny was bored again. He found himself haunting the manor late in the evening. Most of the bats were prepping for their night out on patrol. They were all under the impression that Danny was upstairs doing homework. He soon turned invisible and made his way into the Batcave where he found his siblings gathered around the Batcomputer watching one of the videos of Danny being tortured.
“Danny’s not fully human,” Tim stressed. “I’ve watched his parents remove his limbs and they just grow back in a few hours. Like good as new, no scar or anything! He wasn’t kidding when he said they removed his eyes!” He exclaimed.
Jason let out a hum. “It’s possible that the Fentons did it to him,” he reasoned. “Like their experiments turned him into a meta that let him regenerate.”
“How does that explain the fact that he was able to twist his head a hundred and sixty degrees?” Dick asked, shuddering slightly. “Or the way his eyes glow Lazarus green?”
“Or the monster that’s constantly floating behind him,” Duke whispered, looking like he had seen absolute horrors. Danny held back a snort, he still hadn’t even let Duke see his full eldritch horror form. It had been child’s play so far.
“He died in those experiments,” Dick said softly. “You can see him flatlining multiple times. Being killed and brought back so many times probably fucked up his body a lot. It probably did a lot to him.”
Danny hummed, that was a good theory. Wrong but made sense where they were coming from.
Bruce walked forward in his Batman suit and looked at Danny’s siblings. “Regardless of what you think is wrong with Danny, he’s our family and maybe one day he will feel comfortable telling us what happened to him. And if he doesn’t, that’s fine too. But until then, give him space and quit trying to investigate him. We’re trying to get rid of the anti-ecto acts, not investigate Danny,” he said seriously.
Danny smiled to himself and flew back up to his bedroom.
Jason sucked in a breath when he saw Danny asleep on the couch. He didn’t know why he was nervous. Sure, there was something slightly unsettling about Danny but he wasn’t a bad guy. The kid was insanely sweet and funny. He handled his trauma the same way Jason did, with constant jokes about his vivisection the same way Jason joked about his death.
But between the stories from Dick, Tim, and, Duke and watching the videos of what the Fentons had done to his newest littler brother, something about Danny just unnerved him. But Bruce had asked him to wake Danny up so that he can come down for dinner. It was simple, he just had to wake him up. What was the worst that could happen?
He padded over to Danny’s sleeping form and alost immediately realized something majorly wrong with the image in front of him.
Danny wasn’t breathing.
Jason rushed forward, shouting out for help, help from anyone really. He knelt beside Danny’s prone form and pressed his fingers to the pulse point on Danny’s wrist and frowned when he didn’t feel anything. He cursed before moving to start doing chest compressions, desperate to get him to open his eyes and breathe.
Dick and Bruce skidded into the room and ran over just as Danny sucked in a deep breath and opened his eyes.
“What are you doing!? Ow!” Danny shouted, slapping Jason’s hands away from him. “I think you broke my fucking rib,” he whined, rubbing at his side.
“What happened?” Bruce asked, looking between them concerned.
“He wasn’t breathing! He didn’t have a pulse!” Jason spluttered out, pointing at Danny who was frowning and pulling up his shirt to see if he was bruising yet or not. Beside Bruce, Dick let out a squeak, taking in the vivisection scar that still marred Danny’s chest. For some reason, all of Danny’s wounds from getting his body parts removed had healed just fine but the scar from being cut open over and over again stayed with him forever.
Bruce had given him scar cream to see if it would help but Danny had told him it would do nothing to help him.
“Oh yeah, it’s gnarly,” Danny said offhandedly. “The joys of having mad scientists for parents,” he said and sucked his teeth before he dropped his tshirt. “It’ll heal in like thirty minutes. Thanks for trying to save me I guess, but don’t stress, my heart just does that.”
“I thought you were dead!” Jason shouted, running a hand through his hair, utterly distraught.
Danny laughed and stood up, stretching as he did, his back popping a few times with the stretch. “Because I am,” he said simply.
Damian watched as his brother walked down the hall, texting on his phone as if he didn’t have a care in the world. He was not even bothering to raise his head to watch where he was going as he walked and Damian smirked to himself.
The idiot teenager was about to run face first into the wall and it would serve him right to break his nose for not paying attention to his surroundings. His smirk turned into a look of dismay, though, as Daniel walked straight through the wall without ever looking up.
There was something strange going on with his newest big brother and Damian was going to get to the bottom of it. It was clear that his siblings were not unfounded in their theories that Daniel was something other.
Danny grinned as he walked in on his final victim. He had managed to scare each of his siblings so far with his shenanigans and now he was finally going to get Cass. He had been trying to think of ways to throw her off kilter for a while now, but he had finally come to the perfect idea.
His family were gathered in the family room preparing to watch a movie together. Cass was curled up on the couch beside her girlfriend, the two talking quietly to one another. No one had noticed Danny walk in yet, which was rather typical.
He was lighter on his feet than any bat could ever dream. Even in his human form he had a sense of weightlessness to him that could only be attributed to his ghost form. Something that Danny had thought was interesting and also insanely thankful for considering it made it so much easier for him to sneak around when he was still living with the Fentons.
Danny creeped up behind Cass and Steph, a wide smile slowly growing on his face as he leaned down. “Mind if I sit with you two?” he asked, taking joy in the way both girls jumped in surprise, the rest of the family reacting similarly before giving Cass a shocked look of their own.
She turned to stare wide eyed at Danny and silently nodded once, unable to say a word.
“Sweet,” he said before hopping over the back of the couch and settling into the seat beside his sister. He reached over and grabbed a handful of popcorn from Tim’s bowl and looked at the large screen. “What are we watching?”
Danny took his seat at the dining room table for dinner a few nights later and looked around at his siblings. Each one looked to be on edge, sending Danny worried, concerned looks every now and then. Danny had upped the hauntings in the manor, feeling more and more comfortable with changing to his ghost form and giving in to his ghostly behaviors. He had never really been able to do it in Amity, too much of a risk to haunt the house when his family hd weapons to destroy him at every corner.
But in Wayne Manor? He was free to roam the halls, to stare at dark shadows and just do what ghosts were meant to do. Haunt the manor. And the fact that his siblings would catch him every so often and get the life scared out of them was honestly just a nice bonus.
His core had never felt so content in his life. He was finally getting to give in to all of his ghostly behavior and now it was time to make it known to the others that he knew.
“You know,” Danny stated, taking a bite of his oatmeal. “I wasn’t expecting you all to be so chill about the whole dead thing. I thought you all would be more on edge with my weirdness. But considering you all are vigilantes it makes a lot more sense now why you were okay with a dead guy moving in.”
Tim choked on his coffee, drips splattered onto the table. “I’m sorry what?”he wheezed out.
Danny sat up and grinned. “What?” He asked before he took a sip of his chocolate milk. “You’re telling me that you watched all those tapes of my parents having their fun with me and never once realized I was dead? No living human being can endure the things I did and live to tell the tale. I’m dead.”
“But you have a heartbeat, you breathe,” Dick breathed out and Danny looked over at Jason.
“Do I, though?” He asked and Jason swallowed harshly as he remembered the way Danny’s chest didn’t move, how he felt no pulse no matter how hard he checked. “I thought a family of detectives would figure it out pretty quickly.”
Bright rings of light surrounded him for a moment and he showed his ghost form. “I’m Phantom,” he said with a sharp smile. He changed back to his human form and looked over at Bruce. “Bruce had me figured out before he even adopted me. I thought you all knew as well.”
“How did you know about us?” Duke asked.
Danny hummed. “Got bored, decided to explore the manor and imagine my surprise when I found the Batcave in the basement! From there it was easy to put together and I decided well, if I’m going to be living in a family of vigilantes there was no point in me hiding who I was. If anyone was going to accept the half dead kid, it would be you guys.”
“This family just keeps getting weirder and weirder,” Dick mumbled, massaging his temples.
Bruce just smiled. “Danny, did I ever tell you that you have an alien starfish for a brother? His name is Jarro.”
I don’t plan on continuing this. Feel free to add if you want 💚💚
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snakeredbirdbatkatana · 9 months
Text
I will be your Blade Point Me
Loyalty was a trait Janet Drake respected above all others.
It can give you power, fame, money to have someone's loyalty was to have their life.
Tim has always given his all. His people whatever they need they have. May it be his mind, his skills, or even his weapons.
If Dick Grayson demanded the shirt off his back he would remain naked till the end of his days.
Very few times has anyone actually used it the first to test it was Jason.
"Hey Jay.. What's up you never call?"
Tim's phone is always ringing from Wayne Enterprises to his assorted friends he can't remember it being silent. Yet the shock when HighWay to Hell started blaring almost sent him into cardiac arrest.
"Need a favor. Think you could meet me at that safe house you keep pretending not to break into?"
"Yah no problem also it's not breaking in when you leave the window unlocked. Give me ten."
~
Jason doesn't do favors. He would rather die again than ever ask for shit.
When it comes to Tim though he's not an idiot. During his return to Gotham he researched, knew everything about him from his favorite color to when he fucking peed.
Part of his research specifically including who trained the third Robin. Nevermind that watching the kid fight for more than ten minutes gives it away.
Lady Shiva, Ra's just to name a few. He moves almost exactly the same as Cass. Hides in the shadows better than Damian. The whole creepy debacle with Mr. Old as Fuck just furthered Jason hypothesis.
Baby Bird, Bruce's prized protege isn't none lethal.
"I need you to kill someone."
~
Tim in the back of his mind expected it.
Jason for all he is exactly like Bruce doesn't respond the same. To him protection is blood soaked, a knife to the throat is a greeting. Kindess was shrouded and wasn't offered without losing a part of yourself.
"Joker I'm assuming?"
~
He expected a bit of a fight maybe a lecture at least for him to pretend, not whatever it is Replacement is doing.
"He hasn't broken out of Arkham in months haven't heard shit and I hear your in the same business as me nowadays. What you say about helping a brother out?"
~
He wonders if Jason is aware of how his voice cracked. The pleading that was heard the unspoken because I can't. Tim couldn't imagine looking Jason in the eye and saying no. Watching your son bend and demanding he break.
"Hate to burst your bubble, but I already did, I know you think the worst of me but I wasn't gonna let your murderer keep kicking his feet."
He tosses the drive he's been sitting on almost three months before heading back to the window.
"I know we got our shit Jay but your my brother. This is something you needed to be able to sleep at night. You shouldn't feel like you have to beg. I honestly thought you had known and didn't want to acknowledge it."
~
Jason can't breathe as he shuts his computer. Thirty hours of torture his baby brother broke the Joker in ways that turned his stomach.
He climbs into bed his eyes shutting sleeping without a nightmare for the first time in years.
He can't ever repay Tim nothing will ever be enough but he is gonna do everything to try.
He wonders if Ra's might need the same treatment?
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Text
A DC X DP #33
InDependent Together
Imagine dis…
I’ve seen the interactions between Danny and the Batfam. I have seen him have either good or bad interactions with different DC characters, whether he is in his ghost form or not. I’ve seen how Danny is either angry at the world or angry at his brother aka Damian for killing him all for the title of the heir, and how happy and relieved he is to find his brother outside of the reach of the demon head.
But I haven’t seen much of Danny and a semi-redempted Vlad in a toxic relationship.
Gotham, a place where the worst of the worst came to live. Where gunshots and screams of murder are something out of the norm. A group of vigilantes made their way to the heart of the city, where despite all of its dirt and grimness, they still tried and loved this city.
Here comes Danny Fenton and Vlad Masters, who moved in the same neighborhood as the Wayne’s. Now Danny is under the guardianship of Vlad, why you ask? It's because a different tragedy occurred. If the explosion at the Nasty Burger was caused by his cheating on a test, now it was something so mundane that Danny didn’t know if Clockwork didn’t see the event due to it. His aunt also died in another freak accident and he sometimes wondered if he tempted faith too much ever since his accident.
 Having no choice he was placed with Vlad as his legal guardian, he wasn’t too keen on the idea but he saw Vlad slowly trying to redeem himself so instead of running away he chose to stay.
Vlad is both ecstatic and still in grief at what happened in a month. He was trying to be better, he was making progress to be able to go back to their dynamic when they were still in college. Just maybe this time it will include Danny and Jazz, but tragedy stuck, after months of hard work and compromises it all went down the drain. He was in the middle of his grief when a social worker knocked on his door to inquire about Daniel’s guardianship, which stunned Vlad because he would have thought that the boy had already run away or told the social worker himself that he didn’t want to be placed with him.
The social worker informed Vlad that Danny’s aunt had met her demise as a form of house invasion gone wrong. With no one else to care for the teen, the social worker went to the godfather of the child seeing that the teen that they are in charge with seems to be still dissociating ever since they looked for his aunt. Poor kid, the social worker thought, losing all of your family and friends in a single day. They just hoped that the kid would be taken care of and slowly heal with his godfather.
They moved across states to heal, to get far away from the town that seemingly only did was to take and take from the two. Vlad is gripping the steering wheel till his knuckles turn white, his obsession, the one he is too afraid of, and his primary. It kept yelling at him at the back of his head. Maddie Fenton, Power & wealth, and lastly Daniel Fenton are the secondary obsessions that he often shows, but he has another obsession a primary one that is something he kept hidden out of fear of being shattered, family, something he thought to create with Maddie back when they were in college. Vlad can feel it, the way his mind and instincts are all yelling, screaming at him to protect the last thread of his sanity and existence who is watching idly at the trees as they drive by.
By all that's left of my sanity, I swear to protect you, Daniel my Little Badger, at any cost. Nothing will stand in the way of keeping you safe.
Danny is also recalling past events, despite having protection as his secondary obsession a part of him broke, and he tried to prevent this event in his life. He thought the ghost of time that he saw as a grandfather would have helped him to avoid it. Didn’t he already avoid such tragedy, fight his future self and win? But in the end, it was still meant to be.
So now, his young core latched onto the last remaining member of his known family. If his past self could see him now, he would call him fraternizing with the fruit loop. He didn’t care, just the thought of Vlad just having a mere paper cut made him go near the edge or even turning feral.
With everyone gone, you're all I have left, Vlad. I'll do whatever it takes to keep you safe, no matter how desperate things get, even if I have to turn into something more than Dan.
Both Vlad and Danny’s eyes began to glow an eery shade of blue and red as they both silently swore to themselves to protect the other no matter the cost. Both fell into a deep pit of promises and oaths.
The moment they settle down in Gotham Vlad, Vlad controls Daniel’s every movement, constantly controls Danny's life, deciding who he can befriend despite going to Gotham Academy Vlad begins insisting that the kids that attend the school are suddenly not good enough for Danny, something past him would like to have. Where Danny can go, and what Vlad can do to protect Danny from phantom threats emphasizing they now live in Gotham where every step they take is another crime on the tally. As a result, Danny becomes overly reliant on Vlad's advice and is concerned about making decisions without his approval. He puts himself in perilous circumstances to protect Danny, which causes shame and guilt-tripping.
Especially the last time they went out, they were held hostage by the Joker. Thinking that Danny was a Wayne. Vlad immediately went feral, without outing himself, and killed the men who held him down and brutally filled the clown with lead as he dared to hold Danny in such a way that might trigger his past trauma.
..
But Vlad isn't the only one who uses such tactics, Danny also starts to use underhand methods to gain Vlad’s attention and care for himself. Danny manipulates Vlad by stressing his vulnerabilities and emphasizing the necessity for protection. Danny with tears in his eyes recounts Vlad’s past schemes as a means to exploit Vlad's guilt and pity, forcing him to give in to Danny’s demands for attention. Danny instigates crisis circumstances, falsely promises transformation, and presents himself as a victim. Danny began to expect continual attention and validation, leaving Vlad increasingly reliant on being the only one to praise Danny. Finally, Danny dupes Vlad into offering financial assistance by inflating his demands or creating expenses associated with his human activities within their home.
Danny was relieved when he was chosen to be the main hostage instead of Vlad, but the moment Vlad began to go on feral just to save him. Danny’s little heart began to break, is he not strong enough to protect Vlad? What if he broke something… what if he suffered a heart attack?
Thoughts kept spiraling in Danny’s head as he had that vacant look ever since he saw Vlad throw the first punch to the nearest goon.
A QUICK FLASHBACK ON THE POV OF THE BATFAM
The Wayne manor began the morning with a buzzing of news that a new family is moving into the same street at Wayne’s Outsiders if you must. At first, they didn’t mind their new neighbors' quietness but something felt wrong every time they went for a walk or near that house, unfortunately, some cases needed their full attention than a quiet family that seemed to keep it to themselves.
It all came crashing down when The Joker, The prince of crime, met Danny, whom he held hostage thinking that he was a new Wayne. Vlad, the defender, and godfather, who was also there, witnessed his only and last godchild being held hostage by something/ someone he has a traumatic response and history. Brutally killed the Joker out of rage, startling even the most sinister corners of Gotham. The Batfamily confronted Vlad at his mansion and began interrogating him that he was dangerous and that Danny could not stay with him.
Danny stood between Vlad and the Batfamily, his ghostly aura radiating protecting energy. Danny, observing this, asked that they stay away from Vlad. The Batclan continued their efforts to reach Danny, bringing in various people to tell him what normal dynamics should be. Alfred, Barbara, Tim, and Jason attempted to relate to him, but Danny rejected them, his ghostly core erupting with intense protectiveness.
Vlad watched with triumph and dread, already knowing that Danny's loyalty would lead to a cycle of dependency on him. However, he didn't want to stop, as Danny was with HIM, and he was HIS.
The family of vigilantes, aware of the slow and painful process of breaking the toxic bond with Vlad, continued to reach out, hoping that one day Danny would understand that true family is about love and support.
For the time being, Danny, now Masters, stayed in the shadows of Gotham, imprisoned in his mind and house, both his mind and heart torn between desperate need for Vlad.
PS: If someone out there wants to continue or make a fic about this you are free to do so, don’t forget to tag me though.
PPS: Here’s another long one… And I got impatient in posting this one, so enjoy!
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annaesterella · 3 months
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Heyo!! Here is part two of “Don't be Silly, I would never be a Wayne”
I'm sorry if is not good, I just like to write 😞😞
LET'S GOOO
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀. ☆
Mentions of: murderous thoughts, crimes (huahaha) Bat-family going crazy and spiraling into paranoia and Delulu
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“Don't be silly, I would never be a Wayne.”
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Well, here you are now.. finally, someone in your house, with people who want to chat with you! You can hangout with your family now.. finally home. No more school recitals than anyone but Alfred went to, and even then few times, but he wasn't that guilty. No more Father's Day presentations with an empty chair, no more jokes that fall on deaf ears, no more neglect for your feelings, no more chasing after crumbs. You would never crawl for crumbs again. You felt like you might cry, not with sadness but with joy, as you hugged the bearded man, and then he appeared... "Mr. Joie nocturne" Your uncle.. you ran towards him, hugging him as you smiled, being spun around in his arms, as your new family watched the scene unfold happily. Everyone happy, even if they weren't exactly the good guys, all that matters is that you have a happy family.. everyone happy except the Bats..
Once in the mansion, a spiral of anger surrounded them, especially the bat, who even though he was against violence, he couldn't shake that constant thought of ending that circus, fire. They took his daughter, she must have been so scared, but she accepted, after all, they were her mother's family, but he was going to save her at some point... she was as grown up, as beautiful as her mother.. is a shame things ended like that.. It's a shame he didn't find her sooner, he could have... no... he wouldn't have done anything... and that only made him burn with more hatred, blaming himself and the circus... him for losing his daughter, and the circus for finding her. But it would end soon... she would return home. Meanwhile, Dick was thinking about how everything unfolded, how they lost his little sister so easily to a half-assed circus, but still, he knew they had a percentage of blame... Still..Why them?? They didn't even see her until what? A few weeks? Hatred consumed him too, as he thought about how to end it, how to convince them that they were bad... BINGO he could blame them for stealing the belongings, she would believe it and loathe that circus, and then she would go back to the comfort of her stable home, with her father and her brothers, with Alfred, all happy, and the members of that stupid circus in jail... where they would die because some criminal killed them.. perfect.
Tim and Babs, after hearing the plan, started working on finding everything they could about the Circus, the others members of the family went to see by their selfs what they meant by "Circus" and like the others, they did feel a pang of anger for Y/N exchanging them for a circus family... but still, the guilt was also present, they had to make up for the lost time. Of course she would forgive them, she always wanted more time with them, it just wasn't given when she wanted it, but she would receive compensation for that lost time, of course. What idiots.
You were getting ready for another show, until you heard a knock on your dressing room door, thinking it was a member of the circus, you opened it smiling, while putting on your gloves. Just to see the bats, of course, like citizens, all entering their dressing room, thinking they had that right. You raised your eyebrows, finding it disrespectful, you frowned, but of course they didn't mind.
: — First of all.. excuse me? Second of all, what this means?
Damian, being sure you would understand, raised his hand and said loudly, without a care in the world, while pointing to the door
Damian: — Your "family" are responsible for the theft of last night's belongings
You frowned, and clenched your fists tightly, shaking, as you lowered your head. You took a deep breath as you looked at the dressing room door, then looked at them, who seemed to be waiting for your reaction.
: — Get out. Now. What were you expecting me to do? Believe you? I know them better than you guys do.. don't you dare call MY FAMILY thieves
You questioned, as you stamped your foot angrily, and soon heard the footsteps towards your dressing room. He looked at them, who stood up defensively.
Dick: — Bunny, they are criminals.. you need to come with us! They are not good people, leave this magic nonsense behind, it will not give you a future.
You felt the tears in your eyes, as he widened his eyes, trying to explain himself, you opened the door, frowning, as tears ran down your cheeks. It was like a portrait of your mother at that moment, then, your uncle was on the door, asking about the noise. You just stayed silent, before hugging him. Sobbing in your arms, as your new family gathered around, hugging you, making the bats uncomfortable... you never ran to their arms like that. That was just the beginning... they hadn't lost yet... but still, feeling defeated, they left the dressing room, leaving you destroyed as always...
That night's show was canceled, and that was enough for the guilt to consume them... they needed to get rid of that circus as quickly as possible. What I was feeling most at that moment was Dick, after all.. He was the one who made you cry, he despised your story, your biggest passion and indirectly your mother, but he would make it up to you. He would ask Bruce to buy a magical institute if necessary, then, Suddenly, a pop was heard from the circus, followed by a bright purple light. They ran inside, and now they saw the truth... those freaks weren't the main thieves, you were. Again the despair was in the Circus, once again you and your troupe of freaks were gone, leaving only the children with their belongings. They corrupted you, left you dirty with villainy, and you needed to be cleansed again.
Now, at the back of the circus, you and your family were laughing, while looking at the boxes with the belongings. But the joy was soon dashed when they saw the bats, quickly descending towards the house. You quickly started doing some magic tricks, the main one being your Winchester, pointed towards them. You saw the pity, the guilt, but mainly the anger in their eyes, you see it. You sent your family away, coming face to face with them, while pointing the gun directly at the bat. You, his daughter, the man who swore not to use weapons, abhorred the use of them, pointing one at him. He got closer and closer, while the circus disappeared behind him, but still, your family didn't leave you, they slowly appeared behind you.
: — Hello Batman.. finally discovered the truth or are you here to ask me to return "Home" again?
Batman: — Y/N, please.. they aren't your family, the Wayne's are!
Nightwing: — They turned you into a villain
*BANG* It echoed through the space, you just shot to his side, eyes flashing with anger as you felt your uncle's hand on your shoulder.
: — Don't be silly.. I would never be a Wayne!
You said while laughing, ready to shot again, playin with the gun, before turning it into one of those silly wands, pointing it at them.
: — I am a Joie nocturne, now, I know how you guys work, soo.. let's turn a blind eye to all this bullshit.. after all, we will be leaving Tomorrow.
Their eyes widened, as they clenched their fists, they sighed, and walked closer, soon you heard something behind you. No longer your uncle, or your family, but Alfred, sighing sadly, before hugging you and then feeling a needle in your neck.
Alfred: — I'm sorry Master Y/N..
You only heard your name being shouted, followed by sounds of fighting, before your eyes became completely heavy, and then, darkness embraced you. Maybe, like your mother, you would turn into a spell.. and vanish
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terrestrialnoob · 9 months
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To say that Bruce Wayne didn’t like Vlad Masters would be an understatement. Masters refused to treat anyone not obviously rich with any decency, was allergic to admitting he was wrong, used underhanded business tactics to get unconscionably one-sided deals, and kept everything just barely on the side of legal. All on top of having the reputation as one of America’s Most Charitable Billionaires with how much money he gave into rare disease research, that just so happened to also be America’s second biggest tax write-off for one individual. It wasn’t a private feud either. Bruce had gotten, first, in a donation war for who could fund the most charities, which Bruce had thought was in good fun, until it soon became clear that Masters was taking it far too seriously and tried to sabotage a charity event. Bruce wasn’t sure how he did it, but “it was lucky that Batman was there” to get everyone out of the burning building. Bruce then learned just how competitive the man was, and if he didn’t let him win, there’d be more innocent people put into danger.
So, you could imagine his surprise when he got a phone call from a dejected sounding Vlad Masters. “Bruce, it may be hard to believe, but I need your help.”
“With what?” Bruce didn’t want to deal with this man-child’s ego tripping, but he could never refused a cry for help, whether legitimate or a trap.
Vlad sighed loudly into the phone and Bruce thought for a moment he had been hung up on and missed the beep. But after the long pause Vlad said, “Recently, some old college friends of mine died.”
Bruce absorbed that in the shorter pause that followed. First that someone like Vlad had friends, and second, that their deaths meant something to him.
Vlad continued, “Jack had been a rival of mine and I had never forgiven him for marrying the woman I’d loved or – he also caused an accident that had left me hospitalized for months. I still say we were friends because, well, he never stopped trying to be mine despite how horrible I was to him. We had met when he and I were in a horrible punk band, and then I met his friend Maddie and the three of us made – Sorry, I don’t mean to ramble...”
“It’s understandable,” Bruce responded, “But, you said you needed my help? I have a really good grief counselor if that’s something you’d like?”
“Ah no, you see, Jack and Maddie had a son,” Vlad paused, “They had a daughter too, but she was home when their basement laboratory blew up and their entire house collapsed into it. The three of them, as well as three other teenagers, died. Danny was the only one to survive, and he is now in my care.”
“Jesus,” Bruce sighed, “Does he-”
“Before you offer, a bad experience with a school counselor has him sworn off seeing any kind of professional.” Vlad cut in, “And my bad behavior with his parents beforehand has convinced him I’m some kind of evil supervillain who wants world domination or some such nonsense. He wouldn’t trust anyone who’s associated with me in any way.”
Bruce nodded, seeing where this was going, “But you and I are openly rivals.”
Vlad hummed in agreement, “And you unfortunately have firsthand experience with both losing your parents and helping a grieving teen through the same.”
Bruce sighed, he was getting another kid, wasn’t he?
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upsidedownmvnson · 2 years
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midnight ideas | eddie munson smut
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warnings: sex, unprotected, oral (f receiving), friends to lovers, minimal plot
AN: im so down bad, but its my birthday so happy day to us all
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It was midnight when you knocked on the trailer door, but you knew Wayne wasn't home, and you'd never felt bad about waking Eddie up before. He probably wasn't even sleeping. Lights flicked on and off in the windows before Eddie swung the door open, clad only in sweatpants and leaning on the door, looking a little too hot for a best friends' comfort.
But that didn't matter.
You were here to be a freak.
Here to ask something weird from your best friend, that probably crossed a line or two.
"I need a favour," you asked before any greetings were exchange. You'd biked from your house, which was far enough that you thought you looked a bit like a mess, but from Eddie's perspective you were hot as fuck. Your clothes were all unaligned, and your hair was a mess, like you knew he fantasized about threading his hair through it. "I need you to leave hickeys on my chest."
Eddie looked at you, as if waiting for you to say more. "Okay, well come in. But I'm gunna need a little more context."
"You know that guy I was seeing who just stopped calling and stopped coming by, well he's moved on already, it's been like a minute..."
"A month."
"A minute." You waved Eddie off, sitting on his couch casually like you weren't just asking your best friend to put his mouth all over you. "And I didn't even really like him but then he was like 'sure you do' when I said I have a date tonight." You scoffed and crossed your arms, rolling your eyes at the audacity of the man you had lied to.
"Did you have a date tonight?"
"Not the point."
Eddie laughed. "And you need, what? Proof?"
"Something like that."
Out of nowhere you pulled your shirt over your head, exposing yourself to him. You still had a bra on, purple and flattering, but Eddie was stunned into silence. He tried to speak, but all the words got caught in his throat, leaving him to just stare wide eyed at the presentation before him.
"Anyway, I don't want them on my neck because I don't need to broadcast this to everyone but..." you looked at Eddie who was staring at your boobs, not moving a muscle. Both of his hands placed neatly on his lap. "Oh c'mon, don't be a baby."
"I-I'm not, I just..." Eddie's eyes flashed up to your face, meeting you where you were looking at him. "You're beautiful."
You smiled. "Thanks Eds."
When he didn't move again, you swatted his hands off his lap, and you spun around to sit on his lap facing him. Your hands were on his shoulders, holding yourself steady on him. Eddie's voice was lost again, and his hands hovered in the air behind you, unsure of where to touch. Beneath you, Eddie was already rock hard, his wildest fantasies were literally falling right into his lap, but you didn't feel it yet.
"Obviously you don't have to," you said, back arching slightly into him, your bodies kept apart by only your bra. Everywhere skin connected to Eddie made your skin burn. He was warmth. He was comfort and warmth and home, and you were waiting for him to sink his teeth into you.
The threat of losing this closeness to you made him put his hands on your hips, the roughness of his skin was delicious against the softness of yours. Even touching you made his cock twitch in his sweatpants, but he was hidden behind the band.
"Just give me a second to process this baby," he said, he'd never called you that before and it made you clench, but it also made your heart flutter.
The tension of waiting for him made a knot in your abdomen build, and you felt yourself getting wet over the situation you'd put yourself in. You'd never thought about, but looking at Eddie like this, and thinking about him like this, was really making you horny. If he tried, you'd probably let him do more than kiss you.
Eddie's thumbs ran soothingly across your rib cages, looking up at you, his beautiful eyes looking at you like this made things feel different. You weren't thinking about some loser who didn't call you, you were thinking about Eddie, Eddie, Eddie. He was taking over your senses. And then he did it. He reached forward and kissed a small section of your collarbone, before gently bringing it into his mouth, sucking a sinful little kiss into this skin.
Eddie hands trailed up your back slowly, shivers replaced his heat on your body. His lips were still attached to you, sucking slowly and sweetly on your collarbone. His hands around you kept you close, preventing you from shying away, but you wanted to be close anyway. You want him to keep kissing you like this. You wanted him to kiss you everywhere.
You moved your hands to his hair, practically coddling him and keeping him close to you, tugging at fistfulls everytime he switched to a new location to kiss. You shimmied in his lap, making him bite you lightly, and grip you tighter in his hands. It may have been a warning, but you ignored it and moved again, this time moaning quietly.
"If you don't stop that you're gunna start something you can't finish," he mumbled, hands moved again, gripping your hips just tight enough to hold you still.
"You know what would really piss that guy off?" you mumbled, and Eddie flinched at the words. He didn't really want to be thinking of the other man on your mind right now. "Was if he thought you and I really did it."
"How so?" Eddie replied, but reattached himself to the soft felsh peaking out of your bra. He wasn't going to waste this opportunity.
"I don't know," you mused, but you did. "Maybe I can wear that short little skirt to school, and maybe you can leave hickeys... I don't know, on my thigh?"
Eddie froze.
"Are you sure?" he asked, looking up at you.
Your judgement was so clouded with lust for your best friend, it was pathetic.
"Please," you begged, pouting in a way you knew would make him fold.
But you didn't really need to, Eddie nodded softly and quickly, swallowing his nerves. you got off him, unbuttoning your pants and pushing them down your legs. Eddie kept staring, he discovered your lack of panties without warning, and couldn't look away from the prettiest sight he'd ever scene. You unclipped your bra saying, "Guess we might as well take this off too."
"Come here," he said, holding out his hand and gesturing you back over by curling his two middle fingers towards himself. "On the couch."
You laid down, head on the armrest, suddenly a little shy at the prospect of having Eddie kissing you between the legs.
You mean... on the legs...
Eddie was on his knees, in-between your spread legs, leaning on the back of the couch so he could lean over you a little bit. One of your legs was draped over his, and he ran his hand up it, staring at the beautiful sight until it burned into a memory he won't forget.
"Are you really sure?" he asked, "this is intimate."
"You don't have to," you said, embarassed.
"Oh, I want to." His hand stopped trailing on your hip. "But I don't want you to be uncomfortable around me later."
His voice was laced with hints of vulnerability, you could hear it. You could see the way his head hung a little lower when he said that. You leaned up, placing your lips on his for a very soft, tender kiss.
"Eddie, I always feel the most comfortable when I'm with you."
And he couldn't even process the compliment. He kissed you again, casual, as if this wasn't his first and second kiss with his best friend that he's been crushing on forever.
He scooched his knees back so he could lay down a little, lowering his head to fall between your legs. He put a hand under your knee, lifting your leg ever so gently towards his mouth, looking at you like he expected you to pull away. But you said nothing.
He kissed the soft kiss on the inside of your thigh, above your knee. You watched him, the sight of him so close to your heat was unforgettable.
Eddie sucked a little spot, the purple mark left was small and shallow. He wasn't leaving them to be seen anybody else, and you could tell. But it felt so good and you didn't care, you kinda, didn't want to share. Eddie kissed a little higher, and did the same thing. And then moved... one kiss higher. And right when you were about to ask him to kiss you, really kiss you, he switched sides, repeating them same, slow, tantalizing kisses.
Meanwhile, Eddie was going fucking insane. Your leg was in his fucking mouth. Things would never be platonic again. He had to pretend he couldn't smell how aroused, and wet you were. Had to pretend he wasn't trying to rub his dick on the couch cushions just to get an iota of relief. It was his big performance.
"Eddie..." you said, and when he looked up at your big pleading eyes, the lust coming off you in waves, he knew.
This time, he didn't stop going higher, he trailed kissed all the way up your thigh, bit your hip unexpectedly to make you gasp, and then dove into your pussy, kissing where your pussy met your mound. Eddie was kissing you like this and looking up at you with those eyes. Those fucking eyes. You moaned, the anticipation alone making you writhe.
He licked up and down your folds, letting himself taste and explore every inch. You were so wet.
He snuck his hand under his chin, teasing your hole with one proding digit. It slipped in, your walls wet, and warm, and tight, and the sensation around his finger nearly made him blow his load.
His tongue slid perfectly over your clit and you jerked, moaning sharply and bucking your hips into his face, the pleasure of it sending sparks down your thighs. He repeated the same move, using one hand to spread your lips open and take note of where he was touching. He was memorizing you. Memorizing each and every move that made you moan. He wanted to make you cum so bad. Wanted you to cum for him.
"Feels so good, Eddie."
Groaning at the sound of his name, he slipped in another finger, making you moan again. The slight stretching of learning someone knew was always your least favourite part, but turns out, you just needed Eddie. He made you feel good because he wanted to, he was happy to have his head between your legs, eating you out like he was starving, and with no promise of sex.
But you were pretty sure you were going to fuck him. If he wanted you, he could take you.
He sucked your clit again, and your walls tightened. He curled one of the fingers inside you gently, experimenting, and when you gasped, he continued on that spot, hitting it again and again and again while you got impossibly tight around his fingers, moaning and writhing like a fucking pornstar. He was so in love.
"I want to cum," you moaned, "can I? Please?"
You were asking him to cum. Eddie was dizzy. All the sensations, being squeezed, smelling you, tasting you, the delicious pain of you gripping his hair like you were going to fall... it was all too much. Too sweet. Too hot. Eddie bucked his own hips into the couch, desperate to be touched.
He pulled away just enough to growl, "you better cum on my face," and then dive back into his clitoral assault, kissing and licking it like it was the answer to his prayers.
Which really, it was.
And you came, loudly, moaning loud enough for the whole damn park to know what Eddie just did to you. Through every wave of pleaser, you and Eddie had your eyes locked on each other. This was what you really wanted. You didn't care about some prick, you cared about Eddie. It's always been Eddie.
You kept moaning as Eddie continued to massage and suck you through your orgasm, stopping only when you tried tugging him up to you. He held himself above you, letting you pull his face down to kiss him. All tongue and teeth, more desperate than anything. Eddie could love you after he fucked you. The way you looked at him, blissed out and still squirming your hips, he knew it wasn't over.
He thanked god it wasn't over yet.
"Go to my room," he said, kissing you again, taste of your sweet still on his lips. And evidence of your orgasm remained unwiped, glistening on the skin all around his mouth. You did what he said obediently, almost running to the room with him on your tail.
You started crawling onto the bed, putting your knees on the edge, but before you could climb on, a large hand pushed you into between your shoulder blades, making you land doggy style and exposing your ass and pussy to Eddie. He had taken his pants off, but really couldn't wait one more second. The bed dipped behind you, and you felt him pushing the tip of his cock against your unsuspecting cunt. You gasped, waiting patiently for him to do. The suspense of his dick slowly trailing up your folds without penetrating you was going to drive you crazy.
"Can I do it, baby?" he asked, running the tip up and down your sopping wet folds. He felt how tight you were against two fingers, he was going to be fighting not to finish fast, he knew that. "Please, beautiful, let me do it."
His dick hit the divet of your hole, and he groaned, stopping himself to wait for your answer.
"Eddie," you moaned, the feeling of him pressed against your core wasn't enough. You looked over your shoulder, glassy eyes begging for more relief. He could've blown at the sight of your cock-drunk eyes. And he hadn't even fucked you yet. "Please, fuck me."
Not wasting another second he pushed himself in, fighting playfully against the tightness of your walls. You moaned, shocked at how thick he was, but loving every second. You welcomed him in, pussy so tight and wet and fucking warm that he had to take a few deep breaths before he could fully push himself in.
He pulled entirely out, to slowly push entirely in a few times, taking his time to stretch you before doing anything harder. He said another prayer right then, a prayer that this wasn't the only time. He needed you, and you needed him. And you were already a moaning mess in his arms.
Once you were comfortable, he started really thrusting, keeping the pace steady. He had to close his eyes and take deep breaths again. Just looking at you while he hit it from behind? Too much.
Eddie slapped your ass once. And then finally looked down to see what it looks like. He loved watching your ass jiggle as he fucked you, your cheeks slamming against his abdomen.
"M-Maybe he'll see how-"
"Enough!" Eddie couldn't hear you bring up that fucking idiot one more time. "I'm gunna fuck that guy right out of your mind," Eddie grabbed one of your arms making your chest fall into the bed. He grabbed the other and held them both captive in one of his hands, and used his other hands to slap you on the ass, hard. He did it three more times, your moaning egging him on. But when you started moaning his name, repeating it over and over, he knew he had to get you there. He wouldn't last much longer, not with you intentionally squeezing your walls around him. He spanked you twice more more rough than the rest, followed by a smaller gentler tap. A small, good girl, without words.
Eddie squeezed your reddened ass cheek, as he hammered into you, but released to use his hand to grip a fistful of your hair, pushing you down deeper into the mattress. Your ass was up in the air, while Eddie fucked your pussy relentlessly. He was so deep, hitting parts of you that no one had ever touched. You wanted to praise him. You wanted to thank him for fucking you so good, and tell him how good you felt. You wanted to shower him with praises for fucking you better than anyone ever had, but the only thing that came out was a string of moan and unintelligible syllables of unfinished words.
But you didn't need to say it anyway, Eddie knew.
He could tell by the way your cunt squeezed him greedily, or everytime you caught his eye over your shoulder, glossy and pleasured, how he'd like to see you more often.
It was starting to ache how deeply he pounded you, when he suddenly let go of your hair so he could wrap an arm under you, and get his fingers on your clit. His body was pushed against yours even more, his dick staying deeper and repeatedly hitting a spot that was making you stupid. Eddie saw drool puddling at the corner of your mouth at the mattress, and your pussy dripped down both of your legs. He licked his lips at the sight. You unable to speak, drooling, moaning, and letting him have his fucking way with you.
"You're gunna cum," he said, a fact not a question. "All over this cock, fuck baby, you're so hot," Eddie was trying to keep it together but failing. He'd wanted this forever, and now that he had it, he wasn't going to last. "Are you gunna cum, baby?"
You nodded in his grip, but he held your hair tighter. He wanted to hear you. A strangled, "please," was what you managed.
"Good fucking girl, oh my god," Eddie praised, his fingers on your clit were softer in contrast to the deep pounding. The circles the rubbed over it were sensual, and hot, and going to make you explode. "Cum on my cock babe, do it." Eddie let go of your arms, and immediately they fell beside you, hands grabbing at the sheets pathetically. He grabbed one, and brought your own hand to your own clit. "And when you do," Eddie picked his pace up, gripping your hips in both hands now. "you're fucking mine."
It shouldn't have made you orgasm harder than you ever have in your life, but it did. The concept of Eddie owning your pussy all the time made you come all over him like he wanted, squeezing him so tightly that he couldn't help but bury it as deep as possible and coat your walls, holding your hips unwaveringly tight and pushing himself into you impossibly far to coax himself through his climax.
"Oh my fucking god," he mumbled, eyes closed and cock still buried deep inside you, twitching with sensitivity.
When he pulled out, you both moaned. You flipped over slowly, sitting upright on the bed.
"Eddie," you whispered, suddenly overthinking everything you just did. You couldn't lose Eddie, he was too important.
But he knew you. So he sat beside you, cooing and patting your hair. He kissed you on the cheek.
"Hey, listen," he said, scooping up a hand to hold and looking you in the eyes. His eyes were glassy from cumming so hard in you, but also filled with adoration and love. His gooey eyes could calm you from any state. Eddie encouraged you to stand, walking with you to the bathroom, hands locked tightly together. "I say we take a shower, make a snack, throw a movie on, and fall asleep. Hmm? How's that sound, petal?"
"Petal?"
"Pretty right?" He said, turning the shower on. "I figured I want something pretty, but not overdone. Babe is classic, but overdone."
"To call me?"
"To call my girlfriend," he said, you blushed but said nothing. He smiled. "Look, if you really came over here just to make some douche jealous that's fine, but... if you want me to love you, well, you already have that."
"I love you too, Eddie."
"Sorry it wasn't like, nicer." Eddie smiled at you, content to just be here with you. "For our first time, I mean."
You laughed, "no, it was perfect."
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wolfjackle-creates · 2 years
Text
WIP Wednesday
So I'll be sharing a snippet from a different fic today! If I share anymore of Bring Me Home, I may as well just post the entire first chapter. (Which, I will be looking for a new job and hopefully moving in 2 months or so, so I'll probably try and start posting after that. Get another chapter or two written in the meantime.)
This fic is also from a prompt that was submitted by @regonold to @stealingyourbones. I did part of a collab fill previously, but the idea has been living in my mind rent free and I couldn't help but want to take it on more fully. I've written 5.5k and this snippet is just under 900 words.
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The formal gardens beyond the iron gate filled Danny with dread. Vlad’s mansion had looked like this, too. But Jazz had promised him, over and over again, that the Waynes were nothing like the Fruit Loop while begging him to come. Besides, he’d spent weeks making sure his schedule was clear and making deals to prevent any interruptions. No backing out now. With a sigh, he pressed the button for the intercom.
“Good evening, may I ask your business?” asked a man with a British accent.
“Um, yeah. Good evening.” Why was it so much harder to communicate with other people as human Danny than ghost Phantom? “Um, I’m Danny. Jazz’s brother?”
“Ah, yes. Of course. We’ve been expecting you. Follow the drive up to the house and welcome.”
Motors activated and the gates slowly opened. Danny started the trek up the long driveway. His anxiety wasn’t relived when he saw the manor with it’s dark stone facade and literal tower. If it was made of lighter stones, it could have been a copy of Vlad’s castle.
“This is for Jazz,” he muttered under his breath as he walked up the stairs. Before he could knock on the doors, they opened and Jazz ran out to hug him.
“Danny! Thank you so much for coming! How’ve you been? I know you’re busy, but you need to call me more often.”
Danny hugged her back tightly. “Sorry, Jazz. You know how I lose track of time. So where’s this famous Jason?”
A man stepped forward and started speaking, but hanging off his back was a ghost. The ghost of the dead Robin, to be exact. Shit.
At least the position of the ghost meant he appeared to be looking at probably-Jason. Even if he didn’t hear a word the man said. To make it worse, Robin realized he could see him and was sending out help-me trills.
Danny had to bite hard on his tongue to keep from vocalizing his own comforting chirps.
He was so focused on Robin that he almost didn’t notice probably-Jason holding out his hand to shake. Laughing self-consciously, he took it. “It’s great to finally meet you.”
The other man hesitated a moment and asked, “Is everything all right?”
But all Danny could focus on was Robin hanging off Jason’s shoulders and sending out happy-sad-helpless feelings. Danny relaxed the hold he had on his ghost self and tried to sense what was going on. But he had to reassure the human, too. “Yeah, I’m fine.” But wow, was Jason not. Where had he come into contact with such weird ectoplasm? It seemed to twist every emotion into anger and fear and violence.
Even worse was Robin. He was barely perceptible even to Danny’s enhanced senses.
Of course, Jazz was liminal enough to realize he was doing something. Quietly, she chirped a question.
Danny just shook his head and pulled back his power. “Later,” he murmured.
“I’ll hold you to that,” she said back, just as quietly.
Louder, Danny said, “Sorry. I just have bad memories about large manors like this. Has Jazz told you about Vlad?”
“He’s come up a time or two. With the black hair and blue eyes, someone will probably make an adoption joke at you before the night is over. But I’ll stab them if they do.”
Danny's laugh would have been much less forced had he not just felt the twisted anger inside probably-Jason. “Just don’t hit anything vital,” he said, hoping it sounded like a joke.
Robin rolled his eyes—and how could he do that so obviously with a mask on?—and tried to pull on Jason to lead him inside.
“Well, it might be summer, but Gotham is never warm. Come on in and I’ll introduce you to everyone,” said Jason.
Jazz grabbed his hand as they made their way inside where they were greeted warmly by an elderly gentleman.
“You must be Mr. Danny. Welcome to the Manor. I’m Alfred. Dinner will be served in one hour and please let me know if you need anything. Your sister stated you didn’t have any dietary restrictions?”
“What’s that?” Danny was trying not to stare at Robin who was now hugging the older man. Before Alfred could repeat himself, however, Danny’s brain caught up to the human conversation. “Oh, uh, no. I don’t. Jazz is right.”
“Very good. Can I take your coat and bag?”
Danny did shrug off his backpack, but only so he could also take off his coat. “Can I keep the bag? I don’t feel comfortable without it on me.”
“Very well.” Alfred hung the coat up on a rack right next to the door. “Master Jason, be sure to show him where the bathroom is on your way to join the others. Mr. Danny, there are plenty of drinks in the sitting room where everyone is relaxing should you need a refreshment.” And he finally had confirmation that this was Jason!
“’Course I will, Alfie.”
“Thanks,” said Danny, though he was more focused on the desperate chirps Robin was sending out.
I’m here-notice me-I love you.
Looks like he was breaking his promise to Jazz to not do any ghostly business tonight. Of course Jazz’s boyfriend would be haunted by a ghost that needed help. Why was he even surprised?
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As far as I know, there hasn't been a lot of requests for a tag list on this one. @addie-lover-of-stories is the only one I noticed. But let me know and I'll start one!
Next Part
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nburkhardt · 1 year
Text
Somebody Loves You, You Got a Friend (part 7)
Other parts: one, two, three, four, five, six
We’re back again! The start takes place immediately after the last part & more time jumping lol. I guess trigger warning for breast feeding? Tho it’s not that detailed really 🤷‍♀️ better to be safe ✌️ (quick reminder: this is a slice of life, nearly no plot type of fic)
Any sort of tension he got was wiped away simply by pulling into the driveway. As he opens the front door he’s met with Eleanor crying, following the sound he finds Steve making a beeline for Eleanor.
“You good?” He steps closer to the omega, “Ellie good?”
Steve whips his head around and grins before pulling Eleanor up to him, “just a little tired. She’s just upset I had to use the bathroom”
He laughs, “you eat today?”
Steve turns red in a second and that’s all Eddie needs to know. He pulls the omega close and leads him to the kitchen, “Stevie, we gotta work on this!”
Instead of his original plan of cuddling up to Steve and Eleanor in bed, he pulls out all the stuff to make grilled cheese. He hears the omega start to hum, turning he sees Steve in the chair with his shirt pushed up enough to guide Eleanor to his chest and her immediately latching on to drink.
He manages to not burn the shit out of the two sandwiches, placing one in front of Steve and dumping a bag of chips on both their plates. They eat in a comfortable silence, that’s only filled with Steve’s soft hum.
They hear the front door open and Steve pulls his shirt down and over Eleanor, only losing tension when he hears his mom, “Boys!”
They smile at her, and she placed a kiss on both their heads, “Stevie, you don’t have to keep ruining your shirts like this” she doesn’t bother waiting, just pulls the shirt back up and rubs a hand against Eleanor’s head. They continue to chat while she makes herself something to eat.
——————
Weeks go by and Eddie swears the kids he picked up are more nerdy than him and something entirely different. He’ll catch them talking about weird shit and immediately shut up when someone else passes them.
He unfortunately sees Nancy way too often, she being the kids’ ride more times than not. She attempted to talk to him all of once and he shot it down almost immediately with, “I’ll be honest, Wheeler. I don’t really care much for you, we can tolerate each other for your brother. But we don’t need to be friends, okay?”
She only nods and he doesn’t smell her frustration, just sees it on her face.
It’s three months into school and Eleanor’s going to be four months, when he and Steve decide to bring in their other friends into the know. It’s not just that, but also Steve’s getting restless with staying home.
He said once Eleanor is no longer nursing, he’d look for a job.
(“I just don’t feel like going back and forth, I know mom can watch her but-“
Eddie smiles and nods, looking down at Eleanor sleeping in his arms. “You don’t have to explain it to me, Stevie.” )
So, that brings them to today. They’re out at Gareth’s house, his parents out for the weekend and closest to their home. Steve has Eleanor in her car seat still, and Eddie has a backpack on his shoulder as he knocks on the door.
It’s Gareth that opens the door and smiles, “hey guys,” he spies the car seat, “come on, bet she doesn’t want to stay in there”
Once inside, Steve makes quick work at getting Eleanor out and into his arms. “The guys here already?”
Gareth just nods, “I told them that you were coming and that you both had something to tell them, I think they’ve been listening to the dumb rumors and think you really did mate with each other” he rolls his eyes, “but I mean,”
He points at Eleanor and then raises an eyebrow at Eddie’s arm pulling Steve closer, “this doesn’t help”
Steve rolls his eyes, “we can’t, my mom and Wayne told us that when we’re eighteen and both out of high school, then we can” he pouted and felt Eddie press a kiss to his temple, “let’s go, before Ellie gets fussy”
They follow Gareth, who laughed at the couple. It’s not a long walk and right before they get into the room, the rest of the guys are laughing and right as they’re spotted the laughter stops.
“Dude, am I high or is Steve holding a baby?” - Jeff
“If you’re high, then I’m high because holy fuck that’s a baby!” - Grant
Gareth rolls his eyes, Eddie and Steve are laughing. The others are still staring dumbfounded. Then, Eleanor makes it all too real and lets out a whine.
“Dumbasses, you aren’t high. That is a baby” Gareth finally says, then turns a raised eyebrow at the couple, “better start talking, lovebirds”
They roll their eyes, Steve rocking Eleanor gently before they head to the empty couch, “This is Eleanor” he says and stares at all of them, “She’s the reason I left Hawkins high early”
They nod, clearly listening and Grant points between them with a clear question of “your’s?” Without saying it.
Eddie nods, “She wasn’t planned- I went to Stevie’s house one day when he skipped and well, we spent his heat together”
“Is- is she why you’re together?” Jeff frowns at them, “or were you already together?”
They shake their heads, Eddie slipped his hand into Steve’s and brings it up to his lips, pressing a kiss to his hand. It makes their friends to roll their eyes and smile, “we were dancing around each other for a while. But we got together after we spent his heat together- before we knew about Eleanor”
“I felt like shit for a month, my mom made me take a test.” Steve took over, squeezing Eddie’s hand, “had a doctor really confirm it, I told Eddie a few weeks later”
After that, Eleanor got wiggly and Steve finally let her down on a blanket and all the boys were on the floor with her, holding toys for her to play with or wiggling their fingers for her to grab. Steve laughed and Eddie was smiling, it worked out and they’re so glad their friends are loyal and happy for them.
Eleanor already has all of them wrapped around her finger.
——— A Week Later ———
Eddie groaned as he dropped at their lunch table, he was exhausted. Eleanor being fussier than normal for the last two days. Steve is just as exhausted, if not more. The only one not exhausted was Eleanor somehow.
“Dude. What’s wrong with you?”
Eddie groaned again before shifting to look at who spoke, finding the little freshmen he picked up. “I’m tired”
Dustin raises his eyebrow, dropping next to him and he hopes the kid really doesn’t poke him. He’s saved a little by Grant, “You good Eddie?”
He shrugged, “just tired, think we can move Friday’s session? I think she’s sick”
The freshmen look confused, while Grant nods, “I hope it’s not from any of us, I swear we only just met her and I’m sure one of us would die for her”
Eddie grins, “she’s like that”
Before the freshmen can ask who they’re talking about, Gareth sits next to him with a smile, “who’s like what? What are we talking about?”
“Gotta move the session this week, Ellie’s sick”
That’s said right as Jeff sits down with the other freshman, “don’t tell me it was us!”
Eddie shrugs, “we’re not sure- Janet thinks we’re overreacting.” He lays his head back on the table pillowed on his arms, “wake me before the bell”
In the back of his head he knows the freshmen are confused and he might’ve spilled too much.
~
We’re gonna stop there for now, even though I’m using the read more option again I still don’t want to make the parts too long, ya know? Anyway, again this is more slice of life, no plot. I mean I still add it in a litttttle but it’s nearly nothing. Next time we do a quick pov change (it’ll be Gareth’s!) and it’ll take place directly after this (with a day skip too)
If you have any ideas for this, you’re welcome to share them!! I can add it in or write more!! (This is in general btw, you can always send me prompts!!)
Taglist: @spectrum-spectre @itsfreakingbats @mysticcrownshipper @artiststarme @thereindeerlady @justforthedead89 @ronniescontinuum @freyaforestafay @littlewildflowerkitten @zerokrox-blog @callme-keys @maya-custodios-dionach @rajumat @yellowdevilkitten @munsonfamilyband @steddierthings @tartarusfairy @mx-jinxous @zombiethingy @lunaticmarunatic @carlyv @thelittleclare @estrellami-1 @epiclazershark @bookworm0690 @forest-fogg @flustratedcas @p0lybl4nkk @tiny-enthusiast @a-gae-af-racoon @blackpanzy
(If you wanna be added to this and/or the permanent one, let me know)
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bit-odd-innit · 2 years
Text
Fic: Somewhere That’s Green
[based on a post I made about Eddie’s future]
It’s a hole in the wall just off the main drag, the kind of place you can’t find unless you know to look. In a previous life it had been a pizzeria, which explained the bright green vinyl awning Eddie had no intention of replacing. He’d kept the pick-up window, too, used it to host “office hours.” (“Office hours” was supposed to mean “deliver personalized music recommendations to interested passers-by.” Now it means “help harried, double-parked parents reschedule music lessons.”) 
He’d also kept the apartment upstairs. They have a house now—a nice one, with a wrap-around porch and a big backyard and a cluster of hedges Steve always insists are “a mess”—but when Eddie trips into an inventory hole and loses track of time, it’s nice to have a place to crash. If it’s not a school night sometimes Steve joins him, and they’ll relive the halcyon days of their early twenties, buoyed by cheap beer, diner curly fries, and giddy infatuation. (The infatuation has only grown and flourished even as his tolerance for salty food has withered. Acid reflux is a bitch.)
He’s happy they kept the apartment. He happy knowing that if someone needs it—someone scared, broke, desperate for a lifeline and a scrap of no-strings-attached kindness—it’s something he can provide. 
Initial plans had been to focus on music, just music. It was supposed to be the utopic all-metal record store of Eddie’s nightmares.  But as he started to build stock, he remembered how hard it had been to find merch for the things he liked. How a pin or a patch or poster he’d dug up at a garage sale four towns over made him feel more seen than anything on offer at the local mini-mall. How he wanted to be a hub for the weird shit not everyone liked, but the people who did loved. His horrible little magpie brain fluttered from shiny thing to shiny thing, and by the time opening day rolled around the store was a one-stop shop for all things music, merch and whatever wacky knick-knacks tickled Eddie’s fancy. Or horrified Steve. Or both. Both was best.
The Corroded Coffin guys slotted in easily. Francis always liked doing promo for their gigs, was good at it, too. But by the early 2000s, his methods were apparently so outdated his daughter begged to let her take over. (“He’s stapling fliers to telephone poles, Uncle Eddie. You don’t even have a website.”  
“What is a telephone pole covered in fliers if not the working man’s web-ed site?”
“Oh my God give me your credit card I’m buying you a domain name.”
“A what?”)
Jeff got his CPA and took over the financials, reeling Eddie in whenever he was struck by the urge to make a impulsive, outlandish purchase. (“I genuinely don’t understand how you make money.” 
“It’s cause I don’t do my taxes.”
“I do your taxes. At a great personal expense.”) 
Gareth was instrumental (heh…) in building up the music program—soundproofing the basement and hiring instructors and coordinating concerts and organizing payment plans, all the nitty-gritty non-music stuff that made Eddie’s head spin. At some point it just made the most sense for Eddie to cede control, let him operate it however he saw fit. (“This is your baby, dude. It’s a baby that took form within my own, much larger baby. But it’s yours.”
“I’m touched by your words and appalled by your phrasing.”
“That’s the only way I could have said it.”) 
(Gareth also once described the store as an “Elevated Hot Topic.” Eddie still hasn’t decided when he’s going to kick his ass.)

Momentum grew. Ideas compounded ideas. A kid asked how to sew a patch to his backpack and it snowballed into the Build Your Own Battlevest Workshop. Wayne suggested knocking out the connecting wall between the walk-in freezer and the pantry, and now thrice weekly Eddie runs table-top games for varying age-sets and skill-levels. (At Steve’s request, the elementary school group is called H-E-DOUBLE HOCKEY STICKS FIRE CLUB. Not because he thinks it needs to be censored. He just thinks it’s funny.)  (He’s right.)
It was supposed to be a record store but now it’s so much more. Now there are listening parties and movie screenings and little league teams with his store’s name on the back of their jerseys and and and—
Eddie used to think, if he got lucky, he’d last a year. Now he’s closing in on 30. He was profiled by the local newspaper. They called him “a pillar of the community.”
Wild. 
It’s a warm, sunny April morning. He’s sitting at the takeout window, sipping coffee from the bottom half of a teapot-teacup combo that reads, in a menacing blood-red font, THIS FREAK DRINKS TEA. His hair is gathered in a loose braid, the ends still damp from his post-run shower. (Sometime in their mid-thirties Steve tricked him into maintaining a consistent cardio routine, and now he’s the type of person who gets out of bed at the crack of dawn to knock out an “easy three.” He’s a monster, a husk of his former self. A husk with a much-improved lung capacity and thighs that can juice a watermelon but nonetheless HUSK.) The middle school is about a half mile from the shop; he pulls faces at all the students filtering past. (Steve’s kids, current and former, refer to Eddie exclusively as Mr. Munson’s Husband. It never fails to thrill him.)
He’s leaning back to flip the record piping through the store’s speakers (“Dustin I don’t care if it’s ‘easier’ to ‘create a Spotify account,’ whatever that means. We play vinyl only! Let me be pretentious about this one thing!”) when he hears a meek, polite cough coming from just beneath the window. He peers out and on the sidewalk stands a girl. She’s small, too little to be one of Steve’s. She clutches the strap of her backpack, blue eyes huge with nerves and determination. 
“Hail and well met, weary traveler!” He’s speaking in what Steve calls his Dork Voice, the slightly tuned-down version he uses to put shy kids at ease. “How might I be of assistance?” The girl purses her lips, sets her shoulders, shakes her shaggy bangs out of her face. Eddie thinks suddenly of Nancy and Robin and his heart clenches.
“Do you like games?” She asks.
He smiles softly. Drops the act. “Yeah.” He rests his scarred cheek in the cradle of his palm. “I like games. Do you like games?”
The dam breaks.
“Yes!” She replies at once, breathless with enthusiasm. “My family plays a lot of board games, like Game of Life and Monopoly, and they’re okay but kind of boring, but my brother taught me how to play Settlers of Catan and I really liked that, and my friends and I played Werewolf at a sleepover but we made up a bunch of extra rules to make it harder, and my cousin showed me this video game where the ending changes based on what choices you make and that’s so cool—”
“Alright, slugger.” Eddie can’t help but laugh. “What game are you looking to play?”
The girl collects herself. “Okay,” she says. “Okay, so. So I like it in games where there are rules, but also you can make stuff up? And you can do something weird that might ruin everything but also might pay off? And sometimes you have to work with other people to accomplish your goal, but alliances can break?” Eddie nods. “So there’s this one game. It sounds like so much fun, but nobody I know plays it. They play it on this show I like, well, okay, it’s not really a show, it’s, uh, okay do you know what a podcast is?” Eddie beams.
Steve swapped study hall coverage so he could pop in for lunch. Tonight is parent-teacher conferences, which means Steve’ll be home late, which means Eddie will get absorbed in a project and either crash upstairs or stumble home well after Steve’s gone to bed, which means they’ve got to snatch the time together they can get. They split a sandwich, a salmon burger from Costco Eddie threw in the air fryer and smashed up with avocado and grilled poblano pepper. (”It’s heart healthy!” “You’re heart healthy.” “Aw.” “I meant that as an insult.” “I’m not taking it as one, mwah mwah mwah.”) Eddie eats too fast, as he often does, and drags his nails over the veins of Steve’s forearm to distract himself from his gastrointestinal tract turning inside out.
“🎶Myyyy babyyyy myyyyyy babyyyyyy,” he hums against the shell of Steve’s ear. “You’reeee my babyyyyy sayyyy it to meeeeee🎶.” “Alright,” he huffs, tapping his fingers to the knobby bone of Eddie’s wrist. He presses a kiss to the underside of Eddie’s jaw and rises. “I gotta get back.” He slings his messenger bag over his shoulder, gathers the papers he’d promised he’d grade but didn’t. Eddie watches him readjust, watches him smooth down the salt-and-pepper hairs dusting his temples, watches him push his glasses up the bridge of his nose. He catches Eddie watching and asks, slyly, “What?”
Eddie wants to say, I love you. He wants to say, you’ve made me happier than I ever thought I could be. He wants to say, I’m so grateful I built this life with you. 
But he’s still himself, so what he says is, “Those khakis make your ass look great.”
Steve scoffs, and with a bitchy eye roll he sinks his weight onto his back foot and says, “I KNOW,” and there he is. There’s the man he married. He looks over his shoulder before he leaves, his honey-warm eyes liquifying Eddie’s spine.
“Hey,” he murmurs. “I love you too.” Eddie kisses him and kisses him and kisses him.  Pretty good life. 
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Text
Alone on Christmas
1986 wasn't kind to Wayne Munson, even after the strange phenomena following the earthquake settled down and life slowly returned to Hawkins. It didn't matter where he was, if the house was new, if the street was vastly different from the trailer park - he would still see Eddie standing in his kitchen, boiling water for any leftover tea bags they had because the heating wasn't exactly willing and they would wrestle for the last pair of clean warm socks. He would catch a glimpse of a head of dark curls outside and lose his breath, his mind conjuring up an image of his nephew's mischievous grin before it dissolved, revealing a foreign face. A song on the radio that Eddie loved and used to blast throughout the trailer, a leather jacket in a shop window, a forgotten poster calling for Eddie's lynching...the town was unforgiving, even if there was nothing to forgive. Any grieving was difficult, Wayne was no stranger to it, but grieving while not being to talk about who you missed because people refused to believe the person Eddie was...it was a new and imaginative kind of torture. Wayne wasn't a social creature, but he'd never felt so utterly and thoroughly alone.
And if the year itself was painful, Wayne's first Christmas without Eddie hurt beyond belief. The traditions made no sense with Eddie gone, just empty gestures, sparkle with nothing underneath. Of course, Wayne knew that Eddie would have wanted him to celebrate, the boy was kind and ridiculously fond of Christmas even at his age. But even after the kid from Eddie's club, Dustin Henderson, visited Wayne and kept him company before excusing himself for a Christmas dinner with his mother, Wayne just couldn't conjure up a single spark of the festive spirit. After fighting to keep down two mouthfuls of store bought turkey and leaving his hot chocolate untouched long enough to go cold, he gave up. Grabbing his jacket and car keys, Wayne walked out of the door.
He didn't exactly plan where to go, but his body had known the destination long before his brain did. The drive itself was a blur and yeah, it wasn't really safe, the streets of Hawkins were covered with snow and it was already dark, but everyone who had something to live for was inside, sharing food and laughter, so the town might have looked deserted had it not been for the twinkling lights in the windows.
As for Wayne, he found himself in front of the Hawkins cemetery.
With the unbelievable amount of tragedy Hawkins had seen in previous years, it was no surprise that there were candles lit up on the graves, flowers, small presents. For the better or for the worse, people of Hawkins remembered, came to see their loved ones before retreating into the warmth of their own homes. In the dark, the cemetery was quiet and deserted.
Or almost.
At first, Wayne thought he must have been imagining things, but the closer he got to Eddie's gravestone, the more obvious it became that he wasn't the only one who decided that Christmas cheer just wouldn't do it. In the quiet of the snowy evening, the walkman hung over the slab of stone with Eddie's name sounded much louder, almost like a speaker. He couldn't tell the name of the song, but the voice sounded familiar - Dio, he recalled, one of Eddie's favorites. And in the front of the grave, on a thin blanket that must have done nothing to protect from the cold, sat a familiar figure. Steve Harrington.
Wayne knew Steve well enough, he saw him at the graveyard, at the relief center, driving the kids around. He also found him once knocking on his door past midnight, on one of Wayne's rare days off, and spent one of the strangest nights of his life sitting down with him, talking, Steve fidgeting and looking around with panicked eyes. But the boy was determined and slowly, almost apologetically, he told Wayne what exactly happened with Eddie, with Hawkins. "I know it sounds insane, I know it's too much and I'm putting both of us in danger, sir. But you deserve to know. Not some kind of a cover up story they will eventually tell you. You deserve to know what happened to Eddie. I used to think keeping everyone safe was a priority, that maybe it would help if we didn't think about it, but...yeah. You can stop me any time and I'll leave, no questions asked." But Wayne never stopped him and now he knew everything. It was a small consolation and the truth did nothing to soothe his anger and grief, but at least he had the full picture.
And now Steve Harrington was sitting in front of Eddie's gravestone - not a grave, no body to be buried, yet another stake through Wayne's heart - as Dio's voice broke through the silence of the night. He was grasping a mug of hot chocolate, another one leaning against the cool slab of granite, and somehow he even secured a tiny plastic tree, with small baubles and a tiny star at the top. Wayne's throat suddenly felt even tighter.
Steve's shoulders jerked when he heard the crunching of snow under Wayne's feet. He tried to get up, but his legs must have been cold and he fumbled with the fabric, almost crashing into Wayne in the process. "Shit. Sorry, sir, I just-!"
Wayne's large hands grasped his shoulders, stabilizing him. "Easy, boy. And I've told you before, it's Wayne. You happen to have a free spot on that blanket of yours?"
The boy still looked shaken, but he quickly nodded and smoothed out the blanket to allow both of them to fit. It was uncomfortable, way too cold and frankly depressing, but the silence between them felt right. Steve unscrewed the cap off his thermos flask (so that's how he kept the chocolate warm!) and handed it to Wayne. Unlike the cup still waiting on his table at home, Wayne sipped this one and actually enjoyed it.
After a few more minutes of shared quiet and listening to the finishing tones of Holy Diver, Wayne cleared his throat. "Nice tree you got there. You even got the colors right. Eddie loves...loved," he corrected himself, one of the worst habits he'd picked up recently, "the red and gold combo."
"I know." Steve's voice was strained, quiet. "I mean, I didn't know, originally...but I talked to Gareth. You know, the guy who played drums in Eddie's band? He told me...a lot. Well, I also asked a lot, so it's fair. I wanted..." his words trailed off, uncertain. "I guess I wanted to do something nice for him. Even if it's too late."
Wayne smiled into his hot chocolate. "My boy would still appreciate it. I sure do." Looking at the small twinkling tree, he sniffed, maybe not from the cold. "Hell, you did more for him than I did today - I just wanted to see him, easy as that, but you had the whole thing planned. I didn't...I didn't even get him a present."
The shuffling next to him surprised him enough to suppress the bitterness creeping up his throat. When he turned to Steve, the boy was holding a tiny wrapped package. "It can be from you then," he said, dropping the present into his gloved hand. "I didn't know where to set it, thought the snow would ruin the paper, but...maybe you can unwrap it on Eddie's behalf?"
Fucking depressing indeed. But also warm, so terrifyingly warm.
Steve watched as Wayne removed his gloves with his teeth. "Okay, Eddie. Let's see what Santa brought you," he muttered and tore off the paper, revealing a red D20. He glanced at Steve and they both started chuckling at once, finally easing some of heavy atmosphere.
"Dustin said this was like, Eddie's thing. He'd carry them in his pockets all the time" said Steve and swept aside some of the snow so Wayne could set the die down, under the tree.
"Oh you have no idea." Wayne was putting the glove back on and returning to his hot chocolate. Stupid December. "He'd leave those things lying everywhere. Ever stepped on one of these when you've just woken up? That hurts."
They were laughing again, watching the steam rising from Eddie's cup of hot chocolate. It would be cold soon.
But eventually, Wayne had to ask. He turned towards Steve, touched his shoulder. "Not that I don't appreciate the company, Steve, but...why are you here?"
He pressed his lips into a thin line, clenched his jaw. But Wayne knew when to push and when to wait.
Eventually, the silence got to Steve, made him desperate to break it. "I told you. I wanted...I wanted to do something nice for him. So I came here."
Wayne shook his head. The grip on Steve's shoulder never wavered and the boy didn't shake him off. "I get that. You're a good kid, Steve. But no one should be alone on Christmas Eve."
He didn't have to look to tell that Steve's lips were trembling, his breathing uneven. "But Eddie is," he whispered. Then, louder, more stubborn. He met Wayne's eyes. "You are."
If that truth didn't hurt. But Wayne couldn't bring himself to be mad, to flinch at another stab into his heart. Twisting on the blanket, he pulled Steve into a hug. He didn't give many and received even less, but maybe Steve needed it. Maybe they both did. By the ease with which Steve let himself be pulled forward, with the firm grip of Wayne's arms, it was hard to dispute.
"I know, Steve," he muttered against his shoulder. "We're both alone and it sucks, it sucks so much, but there's nothing we can do about it. And you don't have to tell me why you're not with your parents, girlfriend, friends, anyone...but making yourself miserable won't bring Eddie back. It wouldn't make him happy." Patting Steve's heaving back, he continued, staring into the night sky. "You know, if he was here, he'd probably yell at us both. And then he'd have us both drive home and warm up before we lose a limb or two."
Steve chuckled into his thick winter coat. "Not sure about it. He wasn't my biggest fan...until the last week. But even then, I think he'd enjoy watching me squirm a bit."
"Maybe so," said Wayne and glanced at Eddie's name on the gravestone. "But there's one thing I know about my boy, Steve. He saw people for real, how they felt. He just had a knack for it, he could see when you were lonely and that was when he was the loudest, most annoying. If he saw you like this, I don't believe for a second he'd enjoy it. He'd probably annoy the hell out of you to snap you out of it, then adopt you like a puppy or somethin'."
They were laughing again, the sound so foreign that Wayne couldn't believe it was coming from his own mouth.
They would have probably stayed there much longer, but the cassette finished playing and clicked loudly, drawing their attention. Wayne let Steve go, but not too far. He might have not been able to save his own boy, but maybe the adoption thing ran in the family. "Hey, Steve. Could you help me with a thing?"
The boy nodded immediately, not taking a single second to think. "Sure thing, sir- I mean Wayne. What is it?"
Wayne took a good look at him. Even in the darkness of the graveyard, in the flickering light of a candle he kept lit on Eddie's grave, he could see the circles under Steve's eyes, the haunted look he'd seen so many times in Vietnam and after. The lines in his face that weren't supposed to be there. "I have a turkey at home that needs eating. It's not good, mind you, but I hate wasting food."
Steve's mouth hung open. "I...I couldn't possibly..."
But Wayne was already rising to his feet, extending his arm to help Steve up too. "Na-ah, Steve. You already agreed. Now help this old man. I also have some more hot chocolate at home, pretty sure what we have here is still chocolate, but definitely not hot."
He saw how Steve's eyes traveled to the gravestone, the tree, the die underneath. The nearly cold mug. He took a deep breath, then another one. And nodded. "Of course. Let me just pack the blanket."
Wayne smiled and pulled him upwards. "Let me help, son." The word slipped from his mouth, almost automatic, but it wasn't just a phrase. Like this whole meeting, it felt right.
As they shook snow off the blanket, the baubles on Eddie's Christmas tree gleamed, like his smile.
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egmo614 · 6 months
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Batman Kidnapped. Chapter 3
Little by little Batman began to regain consciousness. When he was able to discern his situation a little, he realized two things. He was handcuffed and on the floor of an extremely luxurious place, probably a mansion
-Wake up sleepyhead - said a sensual voice coming from behind. Footsteps slowly approached. When they stood in front of each other Batman found himself facing a young man he had never seen before. A very beautiful man, he thought to himself.
-Where… where… am I? - He asked, struggling uselessly with the handcuffs that held him.
-Oh Batman. Don't worry about that. You're not even in your country. So you better relax.
-What is all this? I must… I must return to Gotham…
-I'm afraid that's not going to be possible for now, Batman. I guess you want to know what all this is. I think it's only fair that you know.
The beautiful young man walked away from him and approached the window that overlooked a garden that Batman couldn't see.
-You're mine now Batman. I know who you are, I know your secret identity, but I'm not going to divulge it. Don't worry about that. I've been in love with you for years. I became obsessed with you a long time ago. Your perfect body, that sensual suit. Your beautiful buttocks. All. So I started investigating you. And finally I could see how you acted, what clues you followed, how you caught your enemies, who you were behind that mask. Bruce Wayne. Who was going to say it? A playboy millionaire channels his sense of justice dressed as a bat at night catching villains. We have the same age. 32 years. And my parents are dead too. But nobody cares.
-Let go! L..let me go please!
-You're going to be mine for a week Batman. You are going to be my property for that period. You will be at my entire disposal. We're going to have sex as many times as I want, in the way I want. When we're not doing that you're going to be here. You are going to eat top quality food and my butler is going to come and clean you every day. The entire house is surrounded by snipers. I left your utility belt but I took out all the contents. I just added a device that will give you a 300 Volt shock if you make a wrong step. I also have Robin and Alfred captured. Any wrong step on your part and they die. If you try to make contact with someone asking for help Robin and Alfred die. If you don't agree to my every whim, Robin and Alfred die. I just have to press a button. Do you understand, Batman?
-You're mad.
-Yeah. It's true Batman. Madly in love with you. You're the only man I'm attracted to. I'm tired of being surrounded by people who kneel when I enter a room. All that obsequential people! But not you.  You are the only one who never kneels for anyone. So I ask you one more time, Batman. You have understood?
-The only thing I understand is that you are a disgusting ruffian.
-That outburst only indicates one thing. You haven't rested well. You must continue sleeping. But first let's test the device on your belt.
The prince said the order "discharge" and then two electrodes stuck into Batman's skin, sending an electric shock throughout his body. The hero screamed in pain as he arched his body. Immediately afterwards he was dejected, sweating, but did not lose consciousness. However, the prince knelt beside him with a handkerchief soaked in chloroform that he pressed to his handsome face. Batman could only resist slightly and after blinking for a few seconds everything was darkness again.
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