#and then we can start working on the weston one

[weeb-cheese]

I've been working on the book of atlantic deep dive, and I DIDN'T REALIZE HOW MUCH BLATANT TWIN FORESHADOWING THERE WAS!!! I'm feasting. I'm having a good time.

[dcxdpdabbles]

Do you mind updating Alfred's boy? I just fell in love with your work and can't stop thinking about it lololol especially with Wes and Danny crushing on Jason as everyone else is crushing on Danny

It's the most complicated love shape I've seen since Miraculous and I can't get enough 💖

Bruce is working on some late-night emails.

He chose not to go out as Batman tonight just because his kids had a lot of pent-up energy they needed to release on some unsuspecting crook, and he got behind in his civilian persona.

Bruce also wanted to keep an eye on Wes and Danny. The day after the Opera, Danny took it upon himself to take Wes out into the city again, showing him not only Batburger but also the city's sights and arcade.

Alfred booked them both an entire afternoon in Gotham's most luxurious spa as a gift for Danny's hard work. When Danny and Wes came back, both seemed to be glowing and frankly, Bruce wouldn't be surprised if they had turned heads on their way home.

Danny made his children break their necks when he walked by the family room with a laughing Wes. After spotting Danny in a very uncharacteristic move, Damian even walked into the living room wall.

Jason had laughed so hard he choked on his spit. It took every year of training for Bruce to catch Damian mid-jump to save Jason from his younger brother's worth.

It was only the knowledge that Wes was a civilian staying in the manor and that if he saw them in a fight, their covers would be blown, stopping Damian from attacking Jason further.

Bruce was getting tired of this romance novel setting he found himself in. His children haven't stressed him out this much in years. Okay, that's a lie.

They always stressed him out, but usually, it was due to them making a stance against crime. Not a random young man who was dating (secretly) the object of their affection.

Wesley Weston was a delightful young man despite everything. Bruce would almost approve of him if it weren't for the fact that he seemed aware of the Wayne children's hostility and edged it on by being extra cuddly with Danny.

He was delighted for Danny to have a friend who had been making him this happy, but all good things must end. This would be Wes's last night in Wayne Manor.

Tomorrow, Wes will board a plane back through Clockwork's unique gate and be gone from their lives until he can visit again. That could take a while, as Alfred had informed him that Danny's parents were becoming a nuisance.

That could mean any number of things, but the most obvious was that Danny's location needed to stay hidden. No one could contact him from his home.

Bruce sighs, wondering how the boy will handle the news. Alfred chose to wait until Wes was out of the manor so his charge would not break down in front of his friend. It would mean the world to Danny, who closely held his emotions to his chest.

A knock interrupts his thoughts.

"Come in," Bruce calls, wondering who it could be. He is surprised to see a shy redhead pop his head in. "Wes, what are you doing up this late?"

"Sorry to bother you, Mr. Wayne. I couldn't sleep," Wes says, scruffing his feet on the carpet. He takes a moment to gather his strength, then straightens out his back. Bruce braces himself, feeling he won't like what the boy has to say. "I wanted to talk to you about assigning Danny a medical cuddle buddy."

Bruce blinks, feeling well out of his depth. Was that new teen lingo? "A medical cuddle Buddy?"

"It's like an emotional support animal." Wes starts, gesturing with his hands in a flip-flap sort of motion. Bruce noticed Danny tended to do the same when making an explanation. A culture thing? "His emotional, mental, and even physical well-being plummets when he goes too long without cuddling."

Bruce had concluded the same.

Over the last two days, he noticed that Danny had seemed far happier than the weeks he had been in the Manor. At first, he just assumed it was because he finally had someone who understood what he was going through. But now it was clear that it wasn't just the excitement of having Wes around. Danny looked as if he was healing from a long-term lack of nutrition.

It was not a lack of food, as Alfred would never allow anyone to go hungry under his roof.

There had to be something else.

"Danny isn't human," he ventures, watching Wes' body language. At once, the boy tensed up, a dark look in his eye and a precise curl of his lip indicating protective intensity. Bruce closes his laptop, curls his finger under his chin, and leans on them, giving his full attention. "I have no issues with Danny being anything other than human. But I need to know what I have to provide him to keep him healthy."

We hesitated for a long moment, staring back at Bruce like he was weighing the billionaire's soul. His intense eyes bore into Bruce's, flickering around his face as if trying to find a lie in his statement.

Eventually, the boy hesitantly responds. "Danny is part human. The other half is a being that relies on certain emotions to feed. The most common one is fear, which is why his parents tried to kill him when they found out his kind. Fear-based beings are...dangerous, so it was understandable even if it sucked."

Wes's face twists into a hateful and sad expression that lets Bruce know the kids are attempting to rationalize Danny's parents' behavior. He would make sure to tell Alfred not to allow the boy any contact with them. They held too much power over the kid.

"Danny isn't a fear-based than," Bruce prompts, to which Wes rapidly shakes his head.

"He isn't! Danny is....well, he's love-based. He feeds on different versions of love. Have you heard of the eight ancient Greeks' type of love?"

"I have"

Wes rubs his arm, looking relatively young for his age. "Danny feeds on Agape and Philia the most. He used to feed a lot on Storge, but well...you know how that turned out."

He did, indeed.

Does this mean Danny had already been cut off from a significant food source his people needed? Did it also mean that Danny wasn't the Fenton's by blood? How could they not know he was half of another being?

He needed answers to all the questions, but the most important one still resurfaced: "How does Danny feed?"

"Usually through physical contact. Emotions aren't corporal; they are felt through a body like a ripple in the water. When Danny touches someone who shares Agape or Philia with him, the ripples transfer from the contact to his core." Wes explained looking mroe sure of himself. "When I first arrived, Danny looked half-starved. He would have collapsed had it not been for Clockwork sending me."

That's alarming. "What could have happened if he went too long without any love?"

"His core would explode."

"And a core is?"

"Think of it like Danny's heart. It pumps his body with the energy his people need to survive. If it fails, Danny dies."

The last sentence hangs in the room like poisonous gas. Bruce feels his chest squeez at the mere thought that Danny would pass from soemthing they could easily provide for him. "I'll make sure that doesn't happen."

Wes cracks a shaky smile. "I figure you wouldn't. You seem like an okay guy. Can you make sure none of the ones feeling Eros towards Danny are his cuddle-buddy? I don't think his heart is ready for that just yet."

"Of course." Bruce was thinking of Alfred, Cass, Dick, Jason, and himself. All of them would quickly provide the emotion Danny needed. He tells Wes this with what he hopes is an assuring smile.

Wes shuffles his feet nervously before he yells, "Not Jason."

"Why?" Bruce asks, mystified.

"Danny might...um, have a crush on him." The boy mutters almost too low for Bruce to hear. He then glances up with a look of panic. "You can't tell Danny I told you!"

Bruce feels a headache coming on. Of course, out of all the children who had a thing for Danny, the boy chose one of the few of his kids who did not feel the same way. Knowing his son, Jason would probably think it was flattering but would gently let the boy down due to his age.

Jason refused to date anyone outside of a four-year difference from him in any direction. Danny was in for a painful confession.

Wait.

"Wes, what would happen if Danny experienced heartbreak? How does that affect his people?"

Wes blinks, confused, before shrugging. "I guess they die of heartbreak?"

Great.

I'm going to have to make Danny stay away from my second eldest like another stereotypical villain in Jason's romance novels. Bruce rubs his eyes. Or get him together with one of the others who actually likes him. Ugh.

He'll have to discuss things with Alfred. After all, that was his boy.

[ew-selfish-art]

DP x DC AU: Danny desperately wants to find the explosion guy. Tim is really good at covering his tracks... he didn't account for ghosts.

The explosions make it onto TV as purported terror activity and most people haven't heard of that part of the world much less ever given a second thought to care about it. The only real reason it gets reported on has something to do with the Justice League and... Danny knows too much.

He's been in training for Clockwork's court (which he's suspicious of- feels like kingly duty bullshit- but Danny is playing along out of curiosity for now) and he's learned a lot about how the living and non-living worlds collide. That means learning about CW's usual suspects- one of which just happened to have a ton of bases around the area Danny was seeing on the news.

It didn't take long for Danny to try to piece together that whoever blew up Nanda Parbat was trying to fuck with the League of Shadows, and was doing it successfully. Less green portals in the world the better, same goes for assassins. But it gets Danny thinking... Maybe he can employ similar tactics on the GIW Bases that keep spawning on the edges of Amity Park. It would at least set them back while he and his friends navigated the help line desk to request Justice League intervention. None of them can leave Amity Park, so outreach is going to have to be creative.

So Danny figures he'll just find the guy. Call up some ghosts who were there, or er, came from there and get a profile and track him down. But the ghosts keep saying it was The Detective. Annoying!

Danny goes full conspiracy theory, gets Tucker and Sam involved, and begrudgingly asks Wes Weston his thoughts.

He hadn't expected Wes to garble out a thirty minute presentation (that had 100 more slides left to go before he cut it off) about how Batman totally trained with a cult and so did his kids. Danny kind of rolled his eyes but... hey, new avenue of searching in the Infinite Realms at least.

The ghosts confirm that Bombs is for sure not Batman's MO- But maybe his second kid would know? The second kid was already brought back to life though, so no way to easily reach him... Danny starts to realize that this might be the work of a Robin now. Wasn't the red one known for solving cold cases? (Sam provides this information- its a social faux pas to not know hero gossip at Gotham Galas- everything she's learned is against her will).

It all comes to a head when Danny goes about the hard task of opening a portal for the guy to come through at just the right time, explain the infinite realms so he doesn't panic and then describe what the fuck was going on with the GIW. It takes months, just over a full year, of random (educated guesses) portal generating- Finally, Red Robin drops into the land of the dead.

"So, you're the guy I've got to talk to about explosions right?" Danny enthusiastically asks.

Tim thinks he's died and landed in the after life following 56 hours of being awake and plummeting off the side of a building into a Lazarus pool. Nothing makes sense about the kid in front of him.

"Yeah, I got a guy for munitions." Tim answers cooly.

"How do you feel about secretly sanctioned government operations that violate protected rights?"

"Gotta get rid of 'em some how. Need me to point you in the right direction?" This might as well be happening.

[porcelana-r0ta]

The Curse of Sight, Part 7

DCxDP

[Part 6] [Part 7] [Part 8]

[Ao3 Link] (Registered Ao3 users only)

Summary: When Wes Weston meets Tim Drake-Wayne, the dots start connecting. And those dots form a bat.

xxXxx

After a phone call with his mom to confirm that it’s alright for Wes to stay the night, Rebecca leaves with the AV equipment in a Wayne vehicle with a WE driver from HQ. (She also absconds off with a few extra Alfred Pennyworth cookies, but no one calls her out on it.) Wes is then left alone with Tim for a grand tour of Wayne Manor. 

The estate is large and sprawling, but Wes is nothing if not observant and adaptive, and he makes quick work of memorizing the layout. He’s careful to make mental notes of places that could potentially hold secret passages. 

Part of Batman’s whole thing was that he had a Batcave, right? Surely it’s connected to the Manor. The entrance is most likely on the first floor for easier access if the Cave is underground, which is the most logical conclusion given that the Batcave has to hold a computer with enough processing power to be the legendary Batcomputer, all the Bat-vehicles, plus any trophies Batman has collected in his lucrative career as a vigilante. Also, if it’s as much of a cave as the name implies, it’s got to be underground. 

Not that Wes wants to go exploring. This investigation is just so he can mentally note what areas to avoid and always have plausible deniability. 

“Oh, no, Mr. Bruce Wayne, sir, I didn’t see you come out of a bookcase secret passageway with bruises that strangely match up with Batman’s. You see, I was over on the bench in the Wayne Gardens, much too far away from the Wayne Library to see any secret nightlife activities. I’m just a simple teenage boy, haha, please don’t steal my kneecaps. Anyway, what did you think of My Immortal? ”

Yes. Foolproof and non-suspicious, two of Wes’s favorite things in Gotham. He even deflects into the Brucie Wayne persona in this imaginary scenario.

God. This is too stressful. Wes knows too many people with alter egos. He needs normal friends—he can’t keep being the normal friend for abnormal people. Maybe he should start going to the community center in his mom’s neighborhood and meet normal teens with normal Gotham interests. (Wes imagines the normal Gotham teen experience to be the universal vaping and smoking, plus minor vandalism and maybe even some pickpocketing in the Diamond District. He’d sidestep any vigilante-chasers or gangsters, naturally. He’s got to avoid the Bats!)

Of the first floor, there are the following rooms: the kitchen, the dining room, the living room, the parlor, the drawing room, Mr. Wayne’s office, the game room, the theater room, the servants’ quarters, the bathrooms, and the garage.

The kitchen likely has too much foot traffic to keep a secret entrance, plus Mr. Pennyworth seems too proper to let Bat-hijinks take place anywhere near his domain. The foot traffic would remain an issue for rooms like the living room, the drawing room, and the parlor. The theater and game rooms may be an option — both had bookshelves to hold board games, video games, DVDs, and VHS tapes, and bookshelves are classic rich people hiding places. The library is another potential place, even if it’s rather stereotypical. But maybe he should expect stereotypes from the same people with a cow named Bat-Cow? 

The servants’ quarters, only occupied by Mr. Pennyworth and not included in the tour, would be an unexpected place. It may be too far out of the way, though. The bathrooms could be an option: no one is going to interrogate someone for spending too long in a bathroom. But some people are nosy about what others keep in their bathrooms, and someone as paranoid as Batman would account for that. The garage is likely too much of a security liability given that it’s right there along the driveway for an easy getaway. 

That just leaves Bruce Wayne’s office, where it wouldn’t be weird for a CEO to disappear into for hours at a time, nor would it be weird for it to be off-limits for people to be in. Wes was only shown where the room was, not the inside. It’s totally normal to not be brought into your friend’s dad’s office. So normal, in fact, that Wes wouldn’t have even questioned it if he didn’t already know that the Waynes were the Bats. 

So, avoid Bruce Wayne’s study. Not a problem for Wes because he has zero reason to go in there in the first place. This sleepover thing will be a piece of cake. 

Right now they were in the game room, playing Mario Kart 8 on the Switch. The Waynes were wealthy enough that both Tim and Wes had a pro-controller. (Eat the rich!) Right now, Wes was beating Tim by a decent margin as Luigi, but he’s not sure how much of that is Tim letting him win. He’s only played Mario Kart a few times, and never on the Switch, so he’s not really world champ. It’s nice of Tim to fake being bad, though. 

“Damn, you win again,” Tim says, watching Luigi pass the finish line, followed by his avatar, Princess Peach, seconds after. 

“‘Cause you’re going easy on me.”

“What? No I’m not.” 

“You liar.” One of the best ways to lie is to pretend to be a bad liar. Make a few sacrifices with your integrity and no one will question you when you lie well about something that actually matters. His parents taught him that. “Play better this next round.”

“Are you trash talking me?” Tim is playfully offended. 

Wes scoffs, grabbing one of the sofa cushions and setting it against the armrest. He buries himself into it, swinging his legs onto the couch. He’s just barely tall enough to shove his socked feet into Tim’s ribs where he’s sitting. “Am not. I just know that you’re a little tech nerd, and that you can totally kick my ass. No way you haven’t obsessively played Mario Kart.” 

“First of all, I resent that.” He shoves Wes’s feet away. His ears are red. Still cooling down from outside? They weren’t so red a little bit ago. “Second of all, fine. Let’s do Rainbow Road.”

“Sweet, a challenge!” 

Tim selects the Special Cup, and Wes does semi-decently in the first three courses, though Tim only barely holds onto first. The last course is Rainbow Road, and Wes proceeds to fall off the track every thirty seconds. He crosses the finish line in a very humble tenth place. Tim, impossibly, does worse than he has in previous rounds, ending in fourth place rather than the calculated second to spare Wes’s pride of their previous Cups. 

“Hmm. That was humiliating.”

They both turn to look at the doorway, where Damian Wayne lurks, holding Alfred the Cat. 

“Don’t be rude, Demon Spawn.” Tim scowls. Wes stretches his feet out to nudge at Tim admonishingly. 

“Dude, c’mon. He’s right. That was bad.” 

“Weston is correct, Drake. And besides, I was talking about you.”

“Okay, that’s it—” Whatever Tim is about to say is cut off when Wes kicks him, harder than a nudge, but not enough to hurt for longer than a few seconds. “Wes! What the hell?”

He ignores Tim, “Did you want to play, Damian?” He gestures at the TV with his controller. 

The boy straightens up, and the movement makes Alfred the Cat wriggle free of his hold. She darts into the room, behind the sectional couch and out of sight. “Don’t be ridiculous. I am merely here to relay Pennyworth’s message that supper will be ready in thirty minutes.” 

“Oh, so you’re scared that you will do worse than me?” He raises a challenging eyebrow. 

“Tt. I could defeat you and Drake blindfolded.” 

“Prove it.”

Wordlessly, Damian marches into the room and swipes the controller from Wes. He laughs, kicking his feet off the couch and getting up to grab a third controller. When he turns back to the couch, Damian is already sitting beside his big brother, his back straight and his face neutral. He turns on the controller and joins them on the couch, leaving enough room for Damian to not feel crowded with a stranger. 

The kid reminds him of some of the more minor-league ghosts who like to annoy Danny for attention. Ghosts like fighting, they like arguing. Siblings shared in that trait, usually. 

Tim grumbles and switches to three person multiplayer, then asks, “What tracks do you want to play?”

“The same one you and Weston were on. I will defeat you both.” 

“Well, definitely me,” Wes says. Damian only sniffs in response. 

They speed through character selection, Wes keeping Luigi and Tim keeping Peach, and Damian chooses Shy Guy. After choosing their vehicles (Wes is the only one who chooses a cart instead of a motorcycle), they start the Special Cup. 

They quickly discover that Damian is a ruthless competitor. Wes lets out a frustrated groan at the third green shell that hits him, whereas Tim curses at his little brother. “How are you so fucking good? I thought video games were beneath you!”

“Jon has a Switch. He likes Mario Kart and Minecraft.”

“Of fucking course he does.”  

Wes wonders who this “Jon” person is. A civilian friend? A fellow superhero? He hates knowing superhero identities, but his mind runs theories anyway. 

Damian continues to win against them, and when that gets boring, he purposely keeps a middle-pace so he can collect shells. His aim is unfortunately impeccable. After twenty minutes of losing to his little brother, Tim calls it quits. “Okay, that’s it. We need to wash up for dinner before Alfred gets mad.” 

“Scared to continue losing, Drake?”

“Hardly. Go wash your hands, brat. You were holding the cat earlier.”

“She’s cleaner than you,” Damian insults. Then, before Tim can retort, he bounds out of the room. 

Tim turns to Wes, “Dude, seriously?”

“What? He obviously wanted to hang out with you.” 

“No he didn’t! He’s Damian. He wanted to spy on me and you so he can insult us better later when you aren’t around.” 

“Mh-hm.” Wes is doubtful. “I don’t know about that. He acts like how I did when I was in middle school and wanted to hang out with my older cousin.”

“It warms my heart that you’re capable of seeing the good in evil.”

“You don’t mean that, dude.”

Tim smiles, “I guess not.” 

After washing up themselves, they head downstairs for the dining room. They are greeted by the savory scent of steak. Wes’s mouth waters. Real rich people food. 

Bruce Wayne (Batman!) is already seated at the head of the table, Damian to his right. Tim grabs Wes’s hand and pulls him to sit on the other side, with Tim acting as a buffer between him and Bruce Wayne. 

“B, this is Wes Weston, my friend. He works in PR, specifically with our TikTok team.” There is no TikTok team, unless Wes and Rebecca count as a team. What is she supposed to do when he goes back to Amity with his dad at the end of the summer? “Wes, this is Bruce, my adoptive dad.” 

Well, only after the whole fake uncle thing, Wes thinks to himself. But he isn’t supposed to know about that. “It’s nice to meet you, sir.”

“Please, call me Bruce when we aren’t at work, Wes.” Bruce Wayne grins that Brucie grin, big and disarming. I’m onto you, Batman. You can’t fool me. “It’s great to see Tim with friends his age. I had a lot of concern after he dropped out of high school, you know, but—”

“Bruce, please. Stop embarrassing me!”

“I’m just expressing my love for my son, Tim.” He turns to Damian, “Don’t follow your other brothers’ examples. Stay in school.” 

“Of course, Father,” Damian says while Wes snorts. 

The Waynes are really zero to nil on children who have high school diplomas. Dick Grayson ran off (or was run off?) at age sixteen, Jason Todd was declared dead (though Wes suspects that maybe he really did die—is there a way to get Danny and Co. to look into that without spilling identities?), and Tim dropped out and created an uncle after his parents passed so he could become a full-time CEO and vigilante (Wes should sit down with Tim and talk about good coping mechanisms, and also never admit to knowing about the fake uncle or the vigilante activities). Hell, even Bruce Wayne is a medical school dropout!

They still at least had Damian Wayne and Duke Thomas, Wes supposes. Maybe they can be the Wayne kids who finally walk at graduation. 

As if on cue, Duke Thomas trudges into the room, clearly tired from daytime patrol as The Signal. Though, Wes is likely supposed to believe that Duke is out doing volunteer work or something of the like. 

“Hey, guys. New person.” Duke squints at Wes, then rubs his eyes. A pair of tinted glasses hang on the collar of his yellow shirt. He grabs them and puts them on.

“Hello, Thomas.”

“Hey, Duke.”

“Welcome back, Duke! Have you met Wes yet? Are your headaches acting up again?” 

“Nope,” says Duke, taking his seat next to Damian. “Nice to meet you. I’m Duke. And my head’s fine.”

“Nice to meet you, too.”

“Is Dick still here?” Duke asks. 

Bruce shakes his head, “He had to leave to make it back to Bludhaven so he’d be able to rest before his shift with the BPD tonight.” 

Wes translates that as He’s got Nightwing work tonight. But who knows? Maybe he really does have a night shift. 

“Ah, that sucks,” Duke says.

Alfred walks in pushing a cart of the mouth-watering steak, mashed potatoes, gravy, and roasted vegetables and starts to serve everyone.

Wes may have to sleep over more often. 

“Thanks, Alfred,” Wes says when his food is plated. 

“Of course, Master Wes.”

He wrinkles his nose at that, even though Alfred’s called him that a few times upon coming in for snacks after filming. Being called “master” makes him feel like some kind of egocentric wealthy elitist. 

“So, Wes,” Bruce Wayne, literally Batman, starts after everyone has been served. Wes straightens up tp better search for any signs of dinnertime kneecap removal. “You’re Penny’s son and that you intern at WE. How are you liking it so far?”

Normal dinnertime conversation. Excellent. Wes has been to dinners every evening of his life, so he should ace this. 

“It’s fun. I mean, I just did coffee runs and stuff at first, but it’s a lot more engaging now that Rebecca is running the TikTok and is using me as her Gen Z brain monkey.” 

“She’s not that much older than you.” Tim rolls his eyes. 

“The WE TikTok is doing very well,” Bruce compliments as if Tim hadn’t opened his mouth. “We should have started one much sooner.”

“I love the one you’re in. Wes, the one where you talk about the American public school experience,” Duke says, rubbing at his temple. Which is unhelpful because Wes directly made fun of Bruce Wayne in that one. “Sorry about the maybe trauma it inflicted.”

He winces, “I mean, it was fine. We were in a safe room the whole time. It genuinely was like the average American high school experience.” He cuts a concerned look at Bruce. The guy who literally can fire his mom and also rip out his kneecaps if he decides to take offense to something dumb Wes says. He just can’t help it—he’s an Amity Park teenager!

Bruce notices and laughs, “Now, now, none of that! I think it’s great that you raised awareness about school shootings. I’m very aware of my privilege, and I don’t have any hard feelings about it being called out.”

“That’s… good.” 

Tim nudges him from under the table with his foot. When Wes looks at him, he’s smiling. Wes’s stomach twists. It’s not an unpleasant feeling. 

Damian sniffs, “Well, nothing will compare to the appearances of Bat-Cow, Titus, Alfred the Cat, and Haley.”

“Everyone will love them,” Wes agrees. “People go crazy for animals.” 

“They would be wrong not to.”

“Wes, not to be rude, but are you from Gotham?” Duke asks. He squints from behind his tinted glasses. “You don’t have a Gothamite accent.”

“That’s not rude at all.” Wes racks his brain for reasons why the meta vigilante might look constipated whenever he looks at him. Is it an Amity Park thing? The Signal’s power set isn't 100% known—the only things confirmed by witness accounts are light and shadow manipulation. Is the electromagnetic radiation spectrum that Duke can see wider than a baseline human’s, thus allowing him to see more visible light? Can Duke see auras? Can he see ectoplasmic radiation? Can he see that radiation in Wes? 

He needs to be careful about what he says. “I’m from Amity Park, Illinois. So is my mom. But she and my dad divorced a few years ago and now I visit Gotham every other holiday and every summer.” 

“Oh damn, that sucks, dude.”

“Nah, it’s fine. They were super chill about it.” They had an amicable divorce. Wanted different things. His parents still text semi-regularly, and they will usually steal Wes’s phone for a few minutes when he’s talking to the other. They might still be together if his mom hadn’t wanted to move up in her career and his dad hadn’t been firm on staying in Amity, or if they’d both been okay with long distance. 

Still… it would be nice to be a complete family, again. Together and whole. Preferably in an Amity Park not infested with white suits or ectophobic ghost hunters. 

Ugh. He really needs to call his dad after work tomorrow. Maybe his cousin, too.

Dinner goes smoothly from there, and after, Tim drags Wes to the movie room to watch Lord of the Ring: Fellowship of the Ring before turning into bed. When the credits roll, he asks, “Are you cool with just staying in my room, or do you wanna stay in the guest room?”

Honestly, what kind of rich people shit is that question? (Ignoring that his mom owns a townhouse in Gotham City and is the director of Wayne Enterprises’s PR Department. He had humble beginnings!)

“Your room is fine,” Wes says. 

“You… just wanna share the bed?” 

Wes had seen Tim’s bedroom in the tour already. He had a California king sized bed. Sleeping in a bed that size would be just the same as sleeping in separate sleeping bags on the floor in terms of intimacy. 

“Yeah, that’s fine, dude.” 

Fast forward to them actually in pajamas and actually under blankets and actually turning off their phones for the night, and Wes is learning that it’s actually not fine. 

He’s hyper-aware of Tim’s form beneath the blankets, the same blankets Wes is under. And sure, they are on separate ends of the bed, nearly three feet between them, but still. 

He’s slept in the same bed as a few friends before, but that had stopped around middle school, when it was suddenly gay for guys to do that. Wes is secure in his sexuality, sure, but he was still in a small Midwestern town at the time, so he hadn’t exactly wanted to do anything to confirm any queerness about him. 

Tim, on the other hand, has been publicly bisexual for a while now. And he wasn’t in the room with Wes when he’d gotten his fitting and made his request that his suit reflect his sexuality, so he didn’t know that Wes was any flavor of MLM. (He’d been too insecure about his lanky basketball player frame to let a superhero overhear his measurements.) 

Is it weird that Wes knows Tim’s sexuality but Tim doesn’t know his while they share a bed? Is it creepy? Is it wrong? Should Wes say something? Or would it be even creepier to come out while in Tim’s bed? Fuck, is it hot in here?

He kicks a leg out from under the covers, allowing it to be exposed to cool air. It’s completely dark in the room, but he stares at where his foot should be. Should he have worn socks to make it not gay? Is it gay at all? What even is “it” at this point, anyway?

He forces a deep breath. This is probably not weird. It probably would be weird if he did decide to come out while sharing a bed with his friend, who is a queer vigilante and his boss and could have his adoptive father rip out Wes’s spine if he so wished. 

Right. So Wes needs to chill the fuck out and think of literally anything else. 

His first thought is unfortunately that time he fell off the monkey bars in the first grade and landed on top of Paulina Sanchez, who had cried and hated him until sixth grade for it. 

Even worse, his second thought is of his parents’ divorce, and he wants to slap himself. But he can’t do that when there’s a maybe-sleeping-maybe-not body next to him, so instead he takes another deep, quiet breath.

He thinks of Duke Thomas and the way he squinted at Wes. Right, light and shadow manipulation. But to what extent? The way he reacted to Wes might suggest he can see more than a regular human’s visible light spectrum. (More colors, like a shrimp?) If he can see ecto-radiation, then he can see that there’s something off about Wes, who has lived in Amity since the portal’s opening nearly a year ago. The average Amity Parker has a little ecto-contamination in them, but Wes’s may be higher thanks to his stalking of Team Phantom. 

So Duke might know that he’s a little irradiated. Not a big deal, Amity’s a small town. There’s no reason to assume that Duke will meet other Amity Parkers and start to ask questions. 

But what would happen if the Guys In White decide to outsource help and they decide that someone who can see more forms of light would be beneficial to the cause? 

….Fuck. He was supposed to calm himself down, not work himself up.

Wes settles in for a long night. 

xxXxx

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[letsgetrowdy43]

Two's company, three's a crowd☆—

Request: Quinn and Honey find out they are pregnant with Maeve.

Ahhhh I'm in love with this 🤭

Au Masterlist!!

Jack's girlfriend placed baby Weston right into Quinn's arms, a soft smile on the man's face as he held the little bundle of joy close to his chest. "He's beautiful J," Honey whispered, teary-eyed at how fatherly Jack looked as he began to tear up at Hun's comment.

The woman admired the intimate scenery in front of her, a baby in Quinn's arms and a misting of tears in his eyes as he held his godson for the first time.

The moment Honey and Quinn made it to their own room in the Lake House Honey sat her husband down on the edge of the bed. A serious look in her eyes as she began, "I'm about to throw an idea out into the open, if you're not on the same page that's fine, just think about it." "You wanna have another baby?" Quinn mused with a grin as he leaned back onto his elbows as Honey smiled shyly. "Sooo badly," she said finally sitting down next to him on the mattress, "my babies aren't babies anymore, and you were holding Weston and I missed that," she watched as Quinn smirked at her, her hands running through his curls as he closed his eyes contently at the feeling.

Quinn pretended to think for a second as his wife waited eagerly for his response, "I'll have as many babies as your heart desires," he grinned as she smacked him in the arm and then pressed a slow kiss to his lips. "I think three is the perfect amount," she mumbled against his mouth as he nipped at her bottom lip.

"I think we should start trying right now," he whispered smugly, his hands running over her hips as he pulled her into his lap. A shallow breath left her lips as he trailed as many kisses along her skin as he possibly could, "your brother is still downstair with the baby," she said in a hushed tone trying to gain enough composure to pull herself off of him. "This is entirely his fault," he said in between kisses as his lips found hers once again, "shouldn't have let me hold the baby looking all sexy, he knew you'd cave," Quinn joked as he flipped her on her back as she let out a quiet squeal.

☆☆

The summer was long over and the hockey season was beginning to pick up, the kids were back in school and Honey's work was starting to pick back up. So the hopes of trying again kinda of withered away as life got busy.

That was until Honey laid in bed reading one of those cheesy romance novels that she couldn't get enough of, a tired Quinn asleep next to her, buried in the sheets with one arm wrapped around his wife's torso.

Something had felt off with Honey, she knew her body, she could feel some sort of sickness coming on as the work week came to an end, but what she didn't expect was for a little notification from her period tracker app to pop up saying she was just over three weeks late. A little gasp left her lips as she stared at her phone, "Q," she shook him gently and she got up and out of bed. "What's wrong," he sat up alert, as he stared at his wife who was making her way to the ensuite bathroom.

He followed her tiredly after coming to the realization that there was no real danger, she grinned and stood with a box in her hands. "I'm late," she said with a grin as Quinn leaned against the bathroom counter a tired smile on his face as she leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his lips, "now get out so I can take this," she shooed him back into their room and shut the door behind him. Quinn laughed at her bossy demeanour, waiting right outside the door for her to open it again. "Can you start a timer for two minutes," she said faintly through the door as she washed her hands and opened it up to see a smiling Quinn.

The two of them stood in the bathroom, her on the counter, and him in between her legs, hands on both of her thighs as they stared at the stopwatch on the phone. It was silent, not tense, but quiet.

A little under a minute left on the clock as Quinn looked up at her, "Remember the first time, in the old apartment, and I proposed to you right after I made you think I was about to leave you."

Forty-five seconds.

"I was so panicked, and then you left me crying," she mumbled, looking away from the clock to see him watching her with so much love in his eyes. "The outcome was perfect though," he whispered, "I can't believe that was almost nine years ago."

Thirty seconds left.

"We had no idea what we were doing," she reminisced as she looked back down at the clock. "I had no doubts in us." "Of course, you didn't" "I'm serious," he laughed, "we were so in love, I had no hesitations that we would figure it out," he was so serious, his tone so genuine as he spewed love-sick words, blush rising up her cheeks as his eyes landed back on the timer

Fifteen seconds.

"You think we have it figured out by now?" she asked, leaning forward to place a kiss on his brow bone as he stared in concentration. "I think we'll be just fine," he said with a little grin, "our first two are perfect, I'm sure this one will be just fine."

Five seconds.

"I love you," he looked at her as she leaned down and placed a soft kiss on his lips. "I love you so much Q," she whispered as her forehead pressed against his.

The time startled both of them as Quinn silenced it, a nervous grin on both of their faces as they stared at the test that was placed upside down on the other end of the bathroom counter. "I'll do it," she reached over the sink and grabbed the little pink stick, holding it upside down in between them. both of them saying a silent little prayer inside their heads as Honey flipped it over.

"Pregnant 2 weeks"

A gasp left her lips as she looked up at Quinn who pulled her into his chest, squeezing her so tight as she whispered about just how much she loved him in his ear. "We are having a baby," he pulled away, his hands now cupping her face as he kissed her once again, tears rolling down both of their cheeks as they shared sloppy emotional kisses, surrounded by their love for one another and their little, now complete, family.

-

-

-

[anonymousewrites]

One Hell of a Love (Book 3) Chapter Two

Sebastian Michaelis x Demon! Reader

Chapter Two: One Hell of an Appointment

Summary: Sebastian and (Y/N) go about their days as housemasters (and sneak around with each other).

            A housemaster is a master who lives in a public-school dormitory and provides the students of the house with guidance. Starting with the housemasters and their assistants, the four houses of Weston College have a handful of employees. Housemothers, who manage the running of the houses; cooks, who prepare the meals; and footmen, who serve at the table. However, housemasters are the only teaching staff among them.

            In the morning, housemasters go to the school building along with the students and teach classes on the subjects of which they are in charge. At night, they return to their houses along with the students, and in their free time, they review the work of those who wish to study.

            In short, a housemaster is a demanding profession, in which one must devote the better part of one’s day to one’s students.

            Sebastian sighed as he returned to his own quarters for the evening. Or, not his quarters, (Y/N)’s. Neither was concerned about being caught since they could escape easily, and they needed moments alone together after their hard work.

            “Did Ciel ask you to do more of his drudge chores?” asked (Y/N).

            “Yes,” said Sebastian, tsking as he hung up his robes. “He accepts all manner of errands too readily because he thinks he can have me take care of them. However, I, too, am busy.”

            “I would give you a hand if you asked me,” said (Y/N). Their robes were already hung to the side, and their tie and cross were put away for the night. They were left in a relaxed button-up and slacks.

            “I know you would, darling,” said Sebastian. “But you are busy enough.”

            “Hardly,” said (Y/N), smirking. “My tutoring sessions are less tutoring and more of men realizing something about their sexuality.”

            Sebastian chuckled lightly. It wasn’t surprising that (Y/N)’s appearance had made several people question themselves and come away with the conclusion that they were not as straight as they had believed.

            And, of course, (Y/N) would never mention it to anyone but Sebastian in amusement. They were a demon, but they weren’t a fool. They knew that England would not be kind to any of the young men here that were going to enter society if they knew they were not following what society dictated for them. (Y/N) would give them space to be queer in the ways they hadn’t had.

            “What an impact you have,” said Sebastian, taking their hand and kissing the back. “And you yourself being in a relationship with a man.”

            “I set a good example,” said (Y/N), smiling. “Or bad, if you’d go by human standards of who to court.”

            Sebastian pouted. “I am who people should not court?”

            (Y/N) raised a brow at that, and Sebastian smirked. He knew he was manipulative and used humans for his own gain, so their point stood. As for dating a demon, he was a fine choice—the best. He respected (Y/N) and their individuality while truly loving them.

            Sebastian leaned in and kissed (Y/N). “Think about the scandal, were we caught. Two masculine figures in bed~”

            “Forbidden love, how terrible,” chuckled (Y/N), kissing him back.

            “And two housemasters, no less, how terrible,” said Sebastian, smirking.

            “Perhaps we should engage in some other forbidden activities,” whispered (Y/N) against his lips. “Before we lose this moment to ourselves.” They kissed down his neck while unbuttoning his shirt.

            “Your offer is tempting,” said Sebastian, eyes fluttering shut as (Y/N) removed his shirt.

            “How about sinful?” said (Y/N), pushing his shirt from his shoulders and leaning to kiss him again.

            “I do so enjoy sinning with you,” said Sebastian, pulling them towards their bed.

            “I am still clothed, I shouldn’t get in bed,” teased (Y/N).

            “Then allow me to undress you.”

l

            If there was one thing (Y/N) and Sebastian were (more so Sebastian, if he was honest), it was insatiable. They snuck moments together whenever possible. Their relationship was quite deep, and their love ran in their veins, so how could they stay apart? Though they occasionally got into more…scandalous situations and scenarios, (Y/N) and Sebastian could hardly resist one another.

            “Thank you for your help, Mr. Noir,” said the student from the final year of schooling. “I apologize for getting behind.” He blushed slightly. “Your explanations really made sense.”

            “Of course,” said (Y/N), smiling. “Now, get to bed. It’s getting late, and you cannot learn properly without rest.”

            “Y-Yes, sir,” said the student, nodding and heading to the door. He jumped as it opened and smiled. “Oh, hello, Mr. Michaelis. Good night.”

            “Good night,” said Sebastian, smiling pleasantly. Once the student had left the office, Sebastian closed the door. “As I said, you are busy.” He smirked.

            (Y/N) chuckled. “And as I said, they come for other reasons.”

            “And you don’t dissuade them?” said Sebastian, drawing nearer.

            “I do not flirt with them, that would be inappropriate,” tsked (Y/N). “I simply let them have their little pashes. They will have to hide it in the future.”

            “How kind of you,” said Sebastian, moving around the desk. (Y/N) stood and leaned back on the desk while Sebastian sat in the armchair.

            “I feel as if you are teasing me,” said (Y/N).

            “Merely out of love,” said Sebastian. He reached out, looped an arm around their leg, and pulled. (Y/N) was drawn in and fell onto his lap. They straddled him while Sebastian smirked at them. He was extraordinarily pleased with himself for that move. “You have the most adorable reactions.” (Y/N)’s nose twitched, and Sebastian grinned. “Like a cat’s.”

            “Sometimes I think you love me because I’m like a cat,” said (Y/N), though they meant nothing of their words. It was merely banter.

            “It does add to your charm,” teased Sebastian, his hands running up (Y/N)’s legs to their waist. “But I can assure you, my love comes from other aspects of your being, my darling.”

            “I’m not sure if I believe you,” said (Y/N), smirking as they challenged him.

            “I must convince you, then,” said Sebastian. He raised one of their hands, peeled off the glove, and kissed the back. “I adore your form.” He kissed the other hand. “I am tempted by your grace.” He placed their hands on his shoulders and he leaned in and kissed their shoulder over their shirt. “I watch your ferocity in battle with reverence.” Sebastian kissed their other shoulder. “Your intelligence and wit are sharp as knives.” He leaned in and kissed their neck gently, and (Y/N) sighed, letting their head loll to the side to give him more access. “You persevere despite all obstacles, whether in this life or your human one.” He nipped lightly at their neck, and (Y/N)’s breath hitched. “Your heart lives on despite hardships.” He smirked and kissed their neck lightly again. “You see the world in a unique light that allows you to be better than most of demon-kind.” Sebastian kissed their cheek. “You have your own set of principles you refuse to let anyone break.” He kissed their other cheek. “You are loyal to those who have earned it—which I am fortunate to be one.” He kissed their forehead. Then, Sebastian held (Y/N)’s chin and tilted their face to face his. “I love you for all these reasons and more, Felis.” He kissed their lips.

            “What a persuasive speech,” sighed (Y/N) after the kiss, staring at him with gentle, adoring eyes. “I dare say I love you, too.”

            “I certainly hope so,” said Sebastian, smirking. His hands returned to their waist and pulled them closer so their bodies were flush against each other. “But if you need further convincing, there are other places for me to kiss~”

            “What if I return the favor?” purred (Y/N), winking.

            “Tantalizing, but I wish to spoil you tonight,” said Sebastian, smirking as his hands began to untuck their shirt and run up the skin beneath.

            Knock

            Sebastian cursed—how unbecoming of the butler—and (Y/N) jumped off him with equal frustration. In a moment, (Y/N) was properly dressed again and in their office chair while Sebastian stood on the other side. They were the picture of two housemasters having a normal, non-scandalous encounter.

            “Come in,” said (Y/N), voice pleasant, but, internally, they despised whoever had interrupted them.

            “I thought I’d find you here,” said Ciel, stepping into the room. He looked at Sebastian and crossed his arms as he closed the door. “You weren’t in your office, Sebastian.” He knew to look in (Y/N)’s office for him, after. Ciel wasn’t blind at all, though he was glad that he had not walked in at a worse moment. That would have been horrible for his own eyes.

            “I had finished my tutoring for the night,” said Sebastian, smiling “innocently.”

            “Indeed,” said Ciel, unimpressed. (Y/N) just smiled at him with equal “innocence.” “Well, let’s get to proper business,” he said, sitting down in the student chair in the room. “I’ve been invited to a P4 gathering tomorrow at four.”

            “We had heard,” said Sebastian.

            “This is a rare opportunity,” said Ciel. “I must get the P4 and their inner circle to take a shine to me. So first, I must have tea cakes.”

            “Quite right, sir,” said Sebastian, taking (Y/N)’s teapot and boiling the water.

            “Why in blazes do I have to do something so inane like hand out cakes to children?” grumbled Ciel.

            “If I recall, you still do enjoy your sweets, Young Master,” said (Y/N) with a closed-eye smile.

            Ciel didn’t respond to that.

            “Is it not adorably novel, though? You can win them over with real sweets instead of the monetary kind,” remarked Sebastian. “However, I am due to coach cricket tomorrow at four. Which would you have me prioritize? If you order it, I can lay in wait nearby.” He steeped the tea.

            “Or I can,” added (Y/N).

            “I highly doubt we’ll be coming to blows. I’ll be fine on my own. But, in exchange…” Ciel smirked. “I command you, Sebastian—make me something that will knock the socks off the P4.”

            Sebastian bowed. “Yes, my lord.”

            “Yes, Young Master,” said (Y/N), bowing their head.

l

            “Damn!” Ciel, at barely five minutes past four, threw his basket of pastries down in Sebastian’s office. “I’ve been had!” In frustration, he threw himself down on the armchair. He had been told to come at four, everyone had heard it, yet the P4 and their Drudges claimed they had expected him at two. “This is why I loathe verbal agreements!”

            “Dear, oh dear, Young Master,” said Sebastian, slightly amused. “You let your guard down because you were dealing with a student.”

            “Humans envy those who excel,” said (Y/N). “You should learn to recognize when someone attempts to sabotage your quick progress.” They waved a hand. “I doubt you’ll fall for it again, then.”

            Ciel opened the basket and pulled out the sweets—he refused to waste them. “No, I shall not,” he said, eyes narrowed.

            “Have you explained yourself and apologized to Lord Edward?” said Sebastian.

            “Doing so would be lost on someone of his ilk,” said Ciel. “And I did in fact break the appointment.”

            “Then will you leave thing as they are and simply cry yourself to sleep tonight?” said Sebastian, smirking.

            “I think not!” declared Ciel. “Whatever it takes, I will find a way to make the prefects bring me into their circle. And I’ll settle my accounts without fail.” He took a bit of a strawberry with an evil grin. “I’ll make you regret squandering my efforts, Maurice Cole.”

            “So, what do you plan, my lord?” asked (Y/N), cocking their head. “Are we exposing Cole?”

            Ciel nodded sharply. “Maurice Cole must be a pathological liar. His hands tell of it.”

            “Oh?” remarked Sebastian, though he and (Y/N) already knew where Ciel was going with his observations.

            “The hands of the drudges at this school tend to be blistered and chapped from running errands for upperclassmen,” said Ciel. “However, his hands are as white and pure as the driven snow. Which means—”

            “He, too, is resorting to dirty tricks like you, Young Master?” clarified Sebastian. (Y/N) chuckled.

            “Exactly,” said Ciel. An irk mark appeared on his head. “That part at the end was wholly uncalled for, though.” He cleared his throat. “Besides, the way he categorically lied to me with ease and without so much as faltering tells me I’m right.”

            “So you recognized him because he’s similar to you,” said (Y/N), smiling pleasantly.

            Ciel grumbled at the comparison, but they weren’t wrong. “I can prove the falsehood in his statement with no trouble, but that won’t be enough to put an end to it. Sebastian, (Y/N), find others who have been entrapped by Cole like I was. And I also want you to thoroughly investigate Cole’s behavioral patterns and habits.”

            Ah, so revenge on his reputation. (Y/N) smirked, cat-like sharpness and cunning in their eyes. They approved. “Yes, my Lord.”

            “As you wish, sir,” said Sebastian.

             (Y/N) and Sebastian smirked at each other. The fun began.

Taglist:

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[princessbutler1316]

O!Ciel's Real Name Theory

So, where do I start? First we may have some clues, here and there.

But I will start first with Yana's name, we all know that's a pseudonym, so a Brief description of how the Japanese letter system works, it has three types: Kanji, Katakana and Hiragana

Katakana and Hiragana are basically the same, but one is used to foreign language and the other Japanese language

Kanji is composed of ideograms where each one represents a concrete or abstract idea. Also they can have more than one meaning

枢- toboso

やな- ya na

Let's forget about the Yana and focus in the surname, 枢, when you search on a Japanese name site (I'm also an author and these sites are my salvation), one of the pronunciation is this:

The constellation is composed of seven bright stars of the constellation Ursa Major;

Not only are the stars in the Big Dipper easily found themselves, they may also be used as guides to other stars outside of the asterism. Thus it is often the starting point for introducing Northern Hemisphere beginners to the night sky:

Polaris, the North Star (seems familiar?), is found by imagining a line from Merak (β) to Dubhe (α) and then extending it for five times the distance between the two Pointers. Extending a line from Megrez (δ) to Phecda (γ), on the inside of the bowl, leads to Regulus (α Leonis) and Alphard (α Hydrae).

BUT THE STAR THAT CAUGHT MY ATTENTION WAS THIS ONE:

By following the curve of the handle from Alioth (ε) to Mizar (ζ) to Alkaid (η), one reaches Arcturus (α Boötis) and Spica (α Virginis). A mnemonic for this is "Arc to Arcturus then speed (or spike) to Spica."

Why was this the only star that caught my attention?

No specific reason the name sounded good to me.

Jokes apart after some research, I'm positive this is O!Ciel real name:

ARCTURUS PHANTOMHIVE

Or Arturo Phantomhive, since u know, French names

But if you ask, do I have more proof or evidence?

HELL YES

Evidence 1

Firstly, let's go back a little and talk a little about colors, starting with Weston High School, which, as everyone knows, is an improved version of Harry Potter but without magic.

The only house that was not represented was Hufflepuff, which has the main color: yellow.

Instead we have Violet Wolf which is represented by the color violet/purple

What does it have to do with it?

They are complementary colors in the spectrum of colors, any painter or artist knows that

This was also applied to the Green Witch Arc, which in this case was used to replace Little Red Riding Hood

So, what else does this have to do with it?

Well, Arcturus is an ORANGE star

While Sirius is a BLUE star

Yes, the two are complementary colors also the fact O!Ciel is always using Blue...

Evidence 2

I'm not going to deny this one but it's kind of stupid, but it could still be relevant

Did you notice that the name Ciel Phantomhive has the same initials as his grandmother?

C.P.

Well, if the name Arcturus Phantomhive has the same initials as if Madame Red had married Vincent

A.P.

And all the evidence points to O!Ciel being closer to his mother than his father…

You understand what I meant

[five-rivers]

Pretty in Pink Chapter 2

@jadenoryuu

:)

.

“Just go ask,” said Star.  “He's totally into you.  He'd probably streak through the cafeteria if you asked.”

“Shut up,” said Paulina.  

Valerie looked between Star and Paulina, eyebrows raised.  “Is there something I'm missing here?  You guys have been acting… off… this whole month.  You two and Dash.”

“It's nothing,” said Paulina.  “Star's hallucinating.”  

Star scoffed and crossed her arms.  “Pauli's got a crush.”

Paulina had picked up some freak ghost disease from the Fentons’ stupid underground tunnel, so maybe if she thought hard enough about it, she could set Star on fire with her mind.  Why would she pick that as her cover story?  What the freak?  She had enough trouble holding onto her reputation while falling through walls and getting into fights with dead lunch ladies without people thinking she was crushing on Fenton, who looked even worse than he usually did today.  What if people started to think her type was ‘drowned rat charity case reject?’

Plus, his stupid tunnel had sort of technically killed her.  Wasn't she supposed to hold a grudge about that?

“Glare at me all you want, but it's the only way you'll be getting any sleep.”

“Oooh,” said Valerie.  “You've got it that bad, huh?  What's stopping you?”

“Well,” said Star, the traitor, “she's worried that he's not exactly A-list material, you know?”

“Girl, seriously?” said Valerie, and Paulina could practically feel her popularity points drop.  “You make things A-list.  Anything in your orbit catches some of that glow.  Anyone you like is cool by association.  You could make anyone cool.  Except Nathan Lester.  He must have been cursed by some ancient northern European god in a past life, because yikes.”

“See, I told you so,” said Star.  

“I bet,” said Valerie, “that you could even make Danny Fenton cool.”

Valerie Gray was a literal gift from God.  But Paulina couldn't run with that too quickly.  

“You think so?” she asked.  “Him?  Cool?”

“Only through your powers,” said Valerie.  She sipped at her soda.  “But as far as raw materials go…  He's got good bone structure, at least, underneath all that greasy middle-schooler hair, and he’s scrawny, but with the right outfit you can play that off as slender, he looks like Dash’s been beating the crap out of him, so you’d have to get him to quit that, but that’s the easiest part, probably.  Yeah, you could do it, Paulina.”

“And you can always dump him after, if he doesn’t pan out or is a creep,” said Star.  “We can even plan it out beforehand, so it'll be funny.”

“Well, yeah, of course you're going to dump him for whoever you're actually interested in.  This is just a trial run.”  She popped a chocolate-covered pretzel into her mouth.  “Who are you interested in, by the way?  Weston?  He's pasty, but at least he's good at basketball.”

Disgusting.  It was true Weston wasn't a complete troll, but she had it on good authority that he was a total conspiracy nut, and her papa said conspiracy theories always somehow led back to literal nazis, and that wasn't a good look on someone as pale as Weston.  

“Ew, no.”

“Who, then?  Come on, spill.”

“It's a secret,” said Paulina, winking.  She'd have to make something up eventually, though.  Maybe one of the upperclassmen would do the trick.  Or maybe she could pretend she lost interest.  “But a trial run…  I'll try it out.  But the minute I'm not having fun…”

“We'll be ready with the tar and feathers,” said Valerie, “just like in history class.  Go on.”  She made a shooing motion.  “Work your magic.  Entertain us.”

Paulina stood up and cocked her hips to one side, like a movie star.  “Watch me.”

She walked over to Fenton's table and sat down.  One of his eyes went wide and round.  The other remained a blue and purple slit.  Wow.  Maybe she'd have to ask Dash to ease up, anyway.  

“Hi, Danny,” she said, with her friendliest smile.  

“H-h-hi Pauli–”

“What do you want?” demanded Samantha Manson, hypocrite extraordinaire, looking down her unnaturally pale nose.  Honestly, anyone who caked that much makeup on had to be at least as self-centered as she said Paulina was.  

Paulina sighed heavily.  “Wow, rude, much?”

“Says the girl who bribed the school board to go back to the old, unbalanced, unhealthy, cheap as dirt menu when she brings lunch from home or orders out.”

Well, yeah, she got her dad to lean on the school board a bit.  It was the only way to keep the lunch lady ghost from coming back again.  She’d just kept attacking the school, over and over again, screaming about the stupid menu change.  Manson should be grateful, honestly.  It was her the ghost had it out for.  

But, yeah, the best way to keep the ghost away or not, she wasn’t eating the slop the school served if she had any other choice.  

“Says the girl who is so conceited she made the whole school eat her special menu.”

“Oh, snap,” said Tucker.  Was that drool on his lip?  

Men were dogs.  Seriously.  Ick.  

“Anyway,” she said, turning back to her target.  “Danny.  I can call you Danny, right?”

“Um, it is my name?”

“Right, so, I heard your parents are scientists.  Inventors.”

“Y-yeah.  They– Yeah.”

God.  And people like this wondered why they weren’t popular.  Try and string two words together.  Give her something to work with.  

“And they're investigating that meat monster that kept attacking the school.”

“They are!  They're really, I mean.  That whole thing was, it was pretty bizarre, wasn't it?”

“Yeah.  Sure.  So, I was wondering if you could maybe show me what they do sometime?  Their inventions and stuff?  Maybe this afternoon?”

“I– Well, I don't know, they've been really busy, this month, ever since the portal came on, and– Ow!  Sam!”

“Don't fall for it, Danny, she's just doing the ‘meet me behind the bleachers and then the whole cheer squad will be there to mock you when you show up’ thing, but with more steps.”

“Wow, suspicious much?”

And she might as well be.  April DeLongpre, who had been the middle school cheer captain two years ago, had done exactly that to her, and now the whole school knew Manson was a lesbian.  Except for maybe her two clueless friends.  

She turned her attention back to clueless one and batted her eyelashes.  “Please?  It would make me feel a lot better if I could see what they were doing.  That meat monster was super freaky.”

“I- I guess.  You might not be able to see their lab, though, they've been trying to, um, sort some things out down there.  It isn't really safe.”

Paulina already knew that.  As far as she was concerned, it was a death trap.  Literally.  But Star was right.  She needed something that could actually make ghosts go away, and the Fentons were the only game in town.  Despite what happened with her hands in ‘ghost form,’ her nails weren't made for fighting.  

Whatever.  Once she got there and got him alone, she could pressure him into basically whatever.  His interactions with Dash already showed that he had no spine. 

“Thanks.  I'll see you after school, then?  On the corner?”  That was far enough away from the school proper that at least the bus kids wouldn't see them.  “You have that scooter, right?”  She’d seen him on a skateboard too, but he’d been wiping out at the time, so she doubted it was his ride to school.

“Actually, Jazz has been driving me,” said Danny.  “She started worrying, after, well, you know.”  He shrugged with one shoulder.  “She should be okay with bringing you, too.”

Bleh.  Jazz Fenton.  The girl wasn’t as bad as Danny.  She was pretty, edging into beautiful, and Dash totally had a crush on her.  Still.  She was so preppy and peppy it even put Star off.  She was, like, an alien or something.  

“That’s… cool,” she said.  

“And, um, we carpool with Tucker, too.”

Great.  Well, she could cope with being drooled over for one car ride.  She’d take a cab home.  

“Sounds like a date,” she said, giving Fenton another winning smile.  

“Oh!  Um, yeah!  A- a date!  I’ll see you then, Paulina.”

Gag.  

“See you then.”

Paulina couldn’t scoot off the bench fast enough.  Hopefully Star and Valerie were letting everyone know about ‘the plan’ to seduce and dump Fenton, because, otherwise, her popularity would definitely take a hit.  

.

The car ride was just as agonizing as she’d imagined, with Foley’s staring, Danny’s downright painful, stuttering attempts at flirting, and Jazz trying to psychoanalyze all of them.  As if she could understand any of what Paulina was going through.  

But then Tucker was dropped off and Jazz disappeared into the house, leaving Paulina and Danny standing on the front lawn.  

“Yeah, so, it’s a bit much, but do you want to go in?” asked Danny.  

Paulina gave him a sharp look, and he looked away.  So what if she was a bit hesitant about going somewhere she’d been killed?  That was her business, wasn’t it?

“Yeah, let’s go,” she said. 

Danny nodded and dashed up the steps.  “The living room is just off of here.”

“What about the lab?” she asked.  

“Well, like I said, my parents are pretty busy…”

What, and he didn’t want her to see them?  The whole town knew what they were like.  Annoying.  “It’s just… after everything that happened the past month, I’d just really feel better if I knew there was someone working on things, you know?”

“I…”  Danny was visibly wavering.  

“Please?  Show me the lab?  I’ll be really careful and quiet.  They won’t even know I’m there.”

“I– Okay.  But it’s not their fault, really.  They didn’t mean to make it so things could pass through it.”

“What are you talking about?”

Danny made a face.  “It’s easier to show you.  But first…”  He reached into his pocket and pulled out… a tube of lipstick.  

Huh.  Dash always called Fenton girly, but she’d never seen him wear makeup.  

“This is just a precaution,” he said, holding it out in front of him like it was loaded.  

“The lipstick?” asked Paulina, skeptically.  

“The lipstick laser.  The lipstick tube is just the casing, so you can carry it around.”

Yeah, Paulina would believe that when she saw it.  

Fenton then turned into the kitchen and went straight to the big metal door.  He braced himself before opening it, as if he expected an explosion.  There wasn’t one.  The only noise coming from below was the buzzing hum of the thing.  

Not that Paulina was going to bring that up.  

“Huh,” said Danny.  “I guess they must be out.  Okay.  So, um, if I say to run, then you’ve got to run, okay?”

“What, are you expecting something to explode down there?”  It wasn’t an out-of-nowhere question, based on what she’d seen when they were down here before.  

“Not exactly,” he said.  

He went down the stairs.  Paulina followed.  

It was empty down there.  That’s all Paulina registered before her attention was grabbed by the thing.  It was just as sinister and gaudy as she remembered it.  A goth punk’s dream.  Her nightmare.  

“So, uh, this is the portal.”

“The portal,” she said.  “That’s what it was.”  

“Yeah.  The portal.  The, um, the ghost portal.  That spews ghosts.  Hence the lasers.  They didn’t mean to.  They wanted it to be a window, or something.  Like, they could look at ghosts through it, but they wouldn’t be able to come through?  But the thing turned on in the middle of the night all on its own, without any of their safeguards - not that there were all that many of those - so now it’s more of a door.  To hell, apparently.”

“Wait, wait, wait, you think that meat monster thing came through here?”

“Yeah, probably,” said Danny.  He sounded exhausted.  

“Then why don’t they turn it off?  Jesus.”

“They tried.  Like I said, no safeguards.  It sucks so much to sleep near this.  You wouldn’t believe it.”  He rubbed his eyes.  “I hate this, truly.”

“So, it could keep… doing this?  More could come through?  Have more come through?”  She didn’t have to feign fear at this.  She had plenty of it to spare.  

“Yeah, probably.”

“But your parents are doing something about it, right?  Finding a way to close it, building weapons, that kind of thing?”

“Yeah, they’re building weapons, capture devices, that kind of thing…”

“Do you think… are there any that I could… have?”

“I mean, they’ve got some things for sale… But those aren’t the ones that work, right now.  Some of their theories were off.  Don’t buy the ghost gabber, for all that’s holy.”

“But there are things that work?”

“Yeah, but they’re prototypes.  Design stage stuff.”

“Could I maybe take one of those?”

“One of the prototypes?  Um.  No.  That’s– Those aren’t mine to give away.  Those’re my parents’.”

“Oh, come on, they’re not going to notice!”

“Trust me, the lab might look like a mess, but they’d notice.”

“But what if one of these ghosts comes after me?  Like, your dad’s a big guy, and doesn’t your mom do martial arts?”  That was one of the things he’d mentioned on that car ride.

“I mean, yeah…  But they’ll be really upset if they notice something’s gone.  They work really, really hard on these things.”

“More upset than me, if I run into a ghost?  I’m just asking for something for self defense.”

“I– Okay.  But, um.  But.  I think.  Maybe.  Um.”  He turned bright pink.  “I’m taking a big risk, here.  So maybe.  Maybe you could come to the– the fall dance with me?”

“What.”

“Just the dance!  If you don’t like it, you don’t, um.  You don’t have to go out with me again.  It’s just the dance.  As, like, an exchange of favors.”

“Fine,” said Paulina.  Danny beamed.  “But you’d better give me something good.”  Or else she was doing the ditch at the dance.

“I will!  But self-defense only.  Small stuff.  The bigger guns can seriously hurt people, and can hurt you, too, if you don’t know how to use them.  And you have to practice with all of these.  They’re weapons, not toys.”

It was better than no stuff.  And she could work up to big stuff later.  

Danny pressed the ‘lipstick laser’ into Paulina’s hand.  “Don’t go showing this off.  My parents will kill me if they know I gave it away.”

“Yeah, I know the feeling.  Is there, like, anything else?”

“I…”

“Please, Danny, you’re my only hope here.”

“I… fine.  Fine.”  He looked around the room, hands on his hips.  “Okay.”  He strode over to the table and picked up something that looked more like a thermos than anything else.  “I’m only giving you this because they’ve already gotten the second one in production.  This is the Fenton Thermos.  And, yeah, I know, we slap our name on everything, I get it.”

“And it does… what?  Keep your coffee hot?”

“It traps ghosts.  It’s actually pretty cool.  Dad caught these octopus ghost guys with it last week.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah!  It was one of the coolest things I’ve seen my dad do, honestly.  So, um.  Practice!  Let me show you how to use a lipstick!  Not that you don’t– I mean, obviously– I mean, a laser.  And a thermos.  Ghost thermos.  You get what I mean.”

“Yeah,” said Paulina.  “Just show me, okay?”

[oblivious-aro]

What did you mean by Wes Weston not being a real character on the show?? (I think you may have mentioned this before but I forgor 💀

So in the background of one episode, there's this one filler character in the crowd who people say looks like Danny:

(This is literally Wes Weston's only appearance)

His name comes from a funny joke where Sam holds a ring she doesn't know was meant for her upside-down:

I don't see the resemblance between him and Danny much, but whatever. I guess they have the same body model? Anyway, people decided to give him a backstory based on this fact. Wes is the only person in town who notices that Danny Phantom and Danny Fenton look very similar, but no one listens to him, so he goes full obsessive conspiracy nutter/stalker.

There's a couple of other optional tropes and trappings that can come with him. In some fics people start accusing Wes himself of being Phantom (with varying degrees of seriousness). He's often given a brother named Kyle who foils Wes by being super chill and straight up thinks that ghosts don't exist and are an elaborate hoax, never mind Wes's Danny nonsense. Some fics work with the fanon that Danny gave up trying to keep his secret identity from the obnoxiously persistent Wes, and just straight up transformed in front of him one day, but continues to torture/gaslight him by denying everything.

No matter which bits of fanon are being used, the basic running joke is that Wes is constantly having a bad day trying to prove something very obvious that he just can never quite acquire definitive proof for. A bit like Candace from Phineas and Ferb.

Despite all that extra lore, it's a very basic joke, and the fandom’s been telling that same joke for years. Wes is fine, I guess, but calling him stale would be an understatement.

He's weirdly prominent. There's a lot of fics still being made about him to this day (they're all the same. I funny get the appeal), and even in ones that aren't, he'll often pop up as a side character with varying degrees of prominence. You know exactly what to expect when he does show up, because it's the same shtick everytime. Years later (I don't know exactly when he was created, but I found a Wes fic from 2016, so I mean it when I say the joke is old), fandom still writes the exact same concept over and over again, and everyone loves it.

Danny Phantom really is more about the fandom than the show. No one likes Wes because he's interesting, it's just fandom-original-creation pride.

So yeah, Wes Weston is a fake Danny Phantom character who gets more attention than some of the real ones.

[raaorqtpbpdy]

Why Are Seers Always Cursed? (1)

Wesley Weston is a son of Apollo with the rare gift of prophecy.

Written for @crossoverdanuary Week 2024, Day three: Percy Jackson | Lake

Takes place shortly before Luke, Annabeth, and Thalia's arrival at Camp Half-Blood and while Wes is in middle school, so before the primary canon events of both series.

You can also read it on AO3

Chapter 1: Family Troubles

Next Chapter

[Warnings for implied/referenced infidelity]

Wes couldn't remember a time when his parents didn't have marital troubles. His eldest brother, Easton, claimed that their parents had been completely happy together once. Even though their mom's work as a flight attendant meant she wasn't home much, they were still happy and in love. Dad was holding down a job back then, and Easton had just started school. Kyle couldn't actually remember it, but he claimed to, nevertheless.

Then Mom came home pregnant with Wes, and everything changed.

They tried to salvage their relationship, keep the family together, but in the end, rather than staying together despite Mom's job, they only managed to stay together because she was away so often.

To his credit, Dad never took it out on Wes.

It wasn't until Wes was eight that he even knew Walter Weston wasn't his biological father. Kyle had let it slip when he was mad at Wes for winning eight games in a row of Guess Who.

He'd gotten angry and shouted, "I don't have to take this! You're not even my real brother!"

After the initial mess was sorted out, Walter took Wes aside and explained that he was his brother's half-sibling, that they had the same mother, but that Wes had a different father. He'd made sure to emphasize that he was still Wes' father, too, and that it didn't mean he loved Wes any less. And Wes had just nodded.

Everyone seemed surprised by how well he'd taken it, but subconsciously, Wes felt like he had always known.

Things settled down after a while. As Wes got older, as he learned more, he finally started to understand the real reason for the tension between his parents whenever his mother came home. Dad had forgiven her for cheating, but she'd still broken his trust, and no matter what happened, he couldn't help but wonder if she'd been unfaithful again while she was away.

Sometimes, Dad would get drunk, at a New Year's party or something, and he would get all sad and cry about losing the love of his life. Wes would help him to bed, and he would cry about how good a kid Wes was, and how he wished Wes really was his kid and it wasn't fair. And he would cry about Easton being so good in school and about Kyle having so many friends. 

It was embarrassing, but there were worse things for a drunk guy to be than sad and sentimental. At least he didn't get that drunk very often.

It wasn't until Wes was ten that he finally worked up the courage to ask his mom about his real—his biological father.

As long as he could remember, when his mother came home, she would sleep in the guest room. So one night after she finished her nighttime routine, he went in to ask her in private. Her face was covered in a pale green mask, and her hair was tucked up in a ring of curlers around her neck to preserve the shape.

"Wes," she noted when he came in, closing the door silently behind him like he thought he would get in trouble. "Hey, hon, what brings you here?" she asked. "You can't have had a bad dream already, you haven't even gone to bed yet."

"No, I... I wanted to ask you something," Wes told her. "I didn't want to do it earlier because I thought it might upset Dad."

"I see," she said.

Wes could tell already that she knew what he was going to ask, but she was waiting for him to say it.

"What... I mean... who.... Who's my real dad?" Wes finally got out. "Will you tell me about him?"

"I knew you were gonna ask someday," she said, a sad expression falling over her face.

"Will you tell me about him?" Wes implored. "Please?"

She sat on her bed and Wes sat down next to her.

"He told me his name was Apollo," she said. "But he was a musician, so that might've been a stage name. I never did get a last name from him. When we met, he said he saw me crossing the sky, following the path of the sun, that he'd seen it almost every day, and that I'd caught his eye.

"I still don't quite know what he meant by that. At the time, I thought he was clumsily trying to compare me to an angel, but I'm not so sure now. What I do know is from that moment on, I felt like I was under a spell, completely charmed by him. 

"We met a few times. I didn't mean for them to be dates, but he clearly thought they were. He would sing for me, and write me poetry, which would sometimes be good and sometimes not so much. His haiku was especially bad. Then one night... well, one thing led to another, and you were born. I never saw him again after that, so clearly he was only after one thing and once he got it he was done with me."

"Sounds like a jerk," Wes said with a scowl.

"I didn't think so then, but hindsight is 20/20," Mom replied with a nod. "In any case, my little foray with him wasn't worth the damage it did to my marriage. I regret everything about those meetings with Apollo." 

She looked down at Wes, all tense and nervous in his Transformers pajamas, and wrapped an arm around him to squeeze him into her side. "Everything but you. You were the only good thing to come out of it."

"Is it okay if Dad can be my dad instead of that guy?" Wes asked. "I don't want him to be my dad."

"It's more than okay," she said.

From then on, Wes' biological dad never got brought up. When Kyle got mad at him, he would sometimes, petulantly, refer to Wes as his half-brother, but never aside from that. Slowly, their parents finally started to truly patch up their relationship.

Then, one day, a few weeks before Wes' thirteenth birthday, he had a dream.

He dreamed that he was laying on his back in a field, soaking up the sunlight, and then the sun came closer and closer, and slowly, the sun turned into a man with golden blond hair, and tan skin, and a guitar on his back, and he knelt down next to Wes and kissed him on the forehead.

"Tell your mom I'll see her soon," he said.

Wes always woke up with the sunrise, but that morning, he awoke in a cold sweat. He waited until he could find a chance to call his mom without anyone overhearing and hoped to God that she wasn't in the air. He was pretty sure her flight had landed by the time he called.

"Hi, Wes, what's up?" she asked when she picked up. She sounded confused.

He couldn't blame her; he was confused too. "I just wanted to tell you..." he trailed off. 

Now that he was finally doing it, it seemed supremely silly to tell her that she was going to meet his bio-dad again soon. What would he even say? It came to him in a dream? That answer was funny in response to a math teacher asking how you reached a certain result, but it wasn't the kind of explanation anyone took seriously. Still, Wes felt like he had to tell her.

"I uh... I just have this really strong feeling that you may end up meeting my bio-dad soon," Wes bit out. "I don't know why, I just... felt like I should tell you."

"Honey, I haven't seen him in thirteen years," his mother reassured. "I don't think either of us has to worry about me running into him again after all this time."

"But—"

"I'll tell you what," she said. "I'll make sure to keep an eye out for him just in case, and I promise if I see him, I'll turn the other way. Okay?"

"No, you need to talk to him!"

There was a stunned silence on the line. Wes didn't even know why he said that.

"Why?"

"I... I don't... he has something important to tell you." Why was Wes still talking? Where was this coming from? Why couldn't he just shut up?

"What are you saying?" his mother asked. "Have you heard from him? Did he contact you somehow?"

"No it's just... I can't explain it, okay just... please mom."

After another long pause, she finally said, "Alright... if you say so, hon. I trust you."

The next time his mom came home, the day before Wes turned thirteen, she walked in the front door with a tight smile. She spoke only in short sentences. It seemed like her mind was far away, occupied with something else.

That night, Wes and Kyle heard yelling from their parents' room for the first time in a long time. Mostly their father. Walter Weston rarely lost his temper, so for him to be yelling like this, it had to be about something serious.

"Don't tell me she did it again?" Kyle said with a sneer.

Wes didn't dignify that with a response. He pressed his ear to his own bedroom door and tried to make out what they were saying. The words were muffled, and he didn't catch most of it, but he did hear a few things.

"... my kid, not his!" in his father's voice. And, "He doesn't get a say!"

Then his mother, whose voice hadn't been loud enough to hear up to this point shouted back, "But what if Wes is in danger!?"

Wes' breath hitched. Was something going to happen to him? Had his mom actually met his bio-father? Had he threatened Wes in some way? 

Wes strained his hearing to listen, but the voices had gone silent. When they picked up again, it was at a much lower volume, and he couldn't make out a single word of what they were saying. That night, he laid awake worrying, unable to sleep. When dawn broke, he gave up on trying and got out of bed.

He wished basketball season wasn't over. That would give him an excuse to leave the house and go to school for early morning practice. He scored the most three-pointers of anyone on the team, and getting praise from his coach and teammates was always a morale booster. He could really use something like that about now, rather than just stewing in his anxiety while he got dressed.

When he left his room, his mom and dad were already awake, sitting on the couch in the living room.

"Wes, honey, we need to talk to you," his mother said gently.

Wes' first thought was, 'You're getting divorced and it's my fault,' but he knew instinctively that that wasn't the case. He also somehow knew that the real reason they wanted to talk would be arguably worse.

"Why don't you have a seat, son," his father said.

He called me son, Wes thought as he cautiously sat down across from them, whatever this is must be really serious.

"I don't know how you knew," his mother began, "But as it happens, I did run into your biological father again, the day after you called me, in fact. And he did have something important to tell me. It was a warning."

"What kind of warning?" Wes asked. "Did he threaten you or something? Did he threaten me?"

"No, no... well, not quite," she said.

"He told her you were in some sort of danger," his father cut in. "I don't know if he has enemies or something and he's worried about them finding you, or what, but he said that he was sending someone to come get you and take you to some kind of, I don't know, protective custody or something?"

"He said it was a private summer camp in Long Island," his mother clarified. "Somewhere where you'd be safe and protected. He seemed very serious about this, it was unlike him. I did some research already, and it's definitely legitimate. I arranged a flight to New York for you and whoever he sends already. They should come for you as soon as the school year is over."

"That's it?" Wes asked. "Nothing about what kind of danger I'm actually in, or why? Man, if I thought this guy was a jerk before, I know he is now."

"Are you saying you won't go?" his father asked. His voice was hopeful, but his expression was conflicted. He didn't want his son to leave, but he didn't want him to get hurt either. "There's no real evidence you're in any danger aside from this random man's word."

"I don't want to take that risk," his mother said pointedly.

"I'll go," Wes said. "It's just for the summer, right? Then I can come home again?"

"That's right," his mom said.

"Then I'll go."

School ended three weeks later, and a lanky man came to pick Wes up at the end of the day. He wore baggy slacks, a dark striped button up with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and an unbuttoned gray vest. A flat cap covered his curly brown hair. He looked like he belonged on a street corner selling newspapers. He stuck out like a sore thumb in front of a school. 

His eyes zoned in on Wes the second he stepped out of the school building.

"Wesley Weston, right?" the man said once Wes was close enough to hear him. "Name's Melvin Barkley, your father sent me to get you."

"Don't call him that," Wes grumbled. "I didn't realize you were gonna come get me right when school ended. We gotta stop by home and pick up my bag."

"Can do," Melvin said amiably. "Lead the way."

Wes wasn't sure if he'd been sent as a sort of guide, or as a body guard, but he was particularly laid back for someone in either profession. When he walked, he walked with a strange gait, and his eyes darted around every few seconds before fixing solidly back on Wes.

School ended early on the last day. When Wes got back home to pick up his bag, the place was empty and all the lights were off. He didn't turn them on. It felt like it would be wrong somehow. 

Kyle had gone to the skate park with his friends the second the final bell rang. Easton wouldn't be coming home from his first year of college until tomorrow. Mom was on a flight to Germany right now, and wouldn't land for another eight hours. And Dad was still at work.

Wes wasn't going to get the chance to say goodbye. Instead, he wrote a note and ended it with, See you all at the end of summer! Love, Wes

[lixxen]

hello beloved mutual lixxen. im curious of about danny phantom! ive seen your reblogs of it, and i was wondering if you could explain the premise of it? bc my memory of it was a kids show from nickelodeon, but it seems super popular. is it still running??

anyways it seems kind of fun, im thinking of starting it

Welcome back to Lixx explaining hyperfixations!!

Danny Phantom is a children's cartoon from 2004 that has three seasons and a graphic novel (that came out last year) (the show has been done for twenty years)

It focuses on Daniel Fenton, who is a 14 year old who lives in a small town somewhere in the northern Midwest of the US (near Wisconsin but not in it). His parents are scientists/inventors who are obsessed with ghosts. They create a portal that should bring them to the Ghost Zone, a special realm that ghosts come from, but it doesn't work. Danny does inside of it and turns it on, which turns him into a Halfa. A Halfa is a half ghost, half human. He canonically dies twice in the show. I will not elaborate on how this kid just dies a few times.

The show follows Danny and his friends (and various classmates and reoccurring cast) as he learns how to use his powers and fight off ghosts along the way!

The cast includes:

His older sister Jazz, who is actually a really good big sister who cares a lot even if she's overbearing

Sam, his main love interest who is a Jewish goth girl and doesn't eat meat

His best friend Tucker, who is a techno nerd who loves meat

The A-Listers, who are the popular kids

Valerie, who is a love interest and enemy at certain points

His parents Maddie and Jack, who are overbearing and can be kinda crazy at times

Vlad, his not uncle who is fucking insane and a main bad guy. In love with Maddie

Plus various others!!

The fandom is very active and old. There are regular Tumblr/AO3 events that happen every year with a schedule and there is a steady fanon that has been built around the show that is basically canon (or supported by the canon). The creator, Butch Hartman, is a bigoted asshole who everyone hates.

The show is very fun and it is bingeable. It has a specific formula and is predictable at times. But also, it's very grim because you slowly realize that this 14 year old kid is literally carrying the weight of a realm on his shoulders and is living a double life where his parents basically want him dead and gone while loving his alive self

The fandom loves gore/whump.

I'm not kidding.

I have written a handful of gore fics for this show and tbh they're not even the worst things ever. If you've ever want to see some of the most jaw dropping whump and gore, this fandom has it.

We have fics that are literally the best written alternate universes and have nothing to do with the original show besides characters and death. Like. There's bound books of that specific fic. I haven't read it but it's long and it will make you sob

Some things that are lore building/fanon shit that everyone knows:

Ghost obsessions (you'll know it when you see it)

Ghost cores having specific effects on ghosts (it's canon but not really talked about in canon for more than two seconds)

Danny having allergic reactions to blood blossoms outside of his ghost form

Ghost speak being a ghost language all ghosts speak

Wes Weston and Kyle Weston being unnamed background characters that the fans took and made into full characters. It's actually cool as fuck. They're fully functioning characters and I love them

Death echoes/death days

I will warn that whatever feelings you have regarding to ships needs to be kicked to the side. All things go for ships here. Don't like the ship/don't condone it, don't interact with ir. You will waste your breath trying to play police over ship

Ships also have names. Platonic AND romantic ships. Here's some I can name off the top of my head:

Pitch pearl: Danny/Phantom (Danny gets split into a ghost and human form at one point)

Amethyst ocean: Danny/Sam

Savant Par: Danny/Tucker

Everlasting trio: Danny/Tucker/Sam

Badger cereal: Danny & Vlad (I think????)

Swagger Bishie/Golden Twinkie: dash/Danny

Pink astronaut: Danny/Paulina

Gray Ghost: Danny/Valerie

So yeah lol

This is my most read fic I think. I am gonna start writing again for DP soon. I love reading them

(here's my AO3 fic tags from my bookmarks for DP)

[tiny-maus-boots]

Queen of Hearts pt 18

A/N: It's been awhile for this one. I was a little bit kinda sorta life threateningly sick so I had some time to complete this. Thank you as always to @chloes-yellow-cup and @kimmania for listening to the hcs that eventually become real stories. i love you awesome nerds.

18 Aggression Factor

“Jesus, this is a fucking nightmare.”

Aubrey nodded her agreement at the thought and leaned back in her seat. The leather creaked softly, the only counterpoint to Beca's soft comment. They had gone to the docks, and on the surface in the full light of day everything appeared on the up and up. But just a little digging after business hours had uncovered a nest of nastiness that she didn't yet know what to do with.

“We have to do something Aubrey. We can't just let all those women suffer. Some of them were just girls…”

Aubrey didn't say anything for a long time. She was sickened by what she and Beca had seen. But it all made sense now. Everything that Weston had been involved in was suddenly and disgustingly clear. Weston had been using his connections with the Russian mob to traffick women as play things for the rich and elite.

“We can free them all tonight. But then Roman and his crew close down shop here and open up somewhere else.”

“They're going to do that anyway now that they've killed Grant's kid. The kid was nothing to them or his father. By morning all those girls will be shipped and held somewhere else.”

And if Beca were to go to her superiors now she would sidelined by the wheels of bureaucracy before anyone could save those women. Her thumbs tapped lightly on the steering wheel as she turned the problem over in her head. She couldn't see any way to help the innocent victims immediately that would stop the operation entirely. She had to choose. Save who she could now or let them and countless others suffer until she and Beca could maybe find a way to dismantle an entire organization and see that justice was served to the people behind it all. 

“All those rich pricks are going to get off scott free from this, aren't they?”

Detective Mitchell looked away and sighed deeply. It bothered her as much as it bothered Aubrey. When they had started this working arrangement it had been because Aubrey wanted someone on the Force that was in her pocket. In truth it could have been any cop, and quite a few that had less compunction about taking her money to look the other way. But she had needed Beca Mitchell in particular.

It had been late when Beca had pulled into the big bay doors of the abandoned warehouse. But dead of night seemed about right for whatever was about to happen. She pulled the rusted old Nova into a cleared space and got out of the car warily. 

Happy and Lilly were stood menacingly and armed to either side of a seated figure lost half in shadow. Somehow Aubrey managed to be the most terrifying of them all, calmly waiting for Beca's arrival with the patience of a large predator. Smoke curled in a lazy tendril around Aubrey’s head and she casually dropped the butt of her cigarette to the floor and ground it out with her shoe as she rose.

“Did you bring him?”

“In the trunk. It'll be a miracle if he survived carbon monoxide poisoning back there. I think the catalytic converter fell off this bucket somewhere on Imperial.”

Aubrey nodded and Happy and Lilly moved to pull their guest out of the trunk of Beca’s unmarked police car. She put a hand into her suit jacket and pulled out an envelope of cash and tossed it to the Detective. Beca caught it and counted the cash half distracted by the none too gentle way her cargo was being dragged and strapped to a dusty work table.

“So look. I know the deal here. You make moves and I follow them. In the end I make some money and really shitty people get what they deserve. I'm oddly on-board with meting out punishment in non legal ways when its due. But this guy? He's nothing. Some B&E, some minor theft. A bar fight. On paper this guy is no one.”

And she had looked. Beca might be okay with playing things a little loose with the law for Aubrey but she wasn't going to do it blindly. She had pulled Mervin Evans’ jacket and read through his past charges before she picked him up and shoved him into her trunk. He wasn't a great guy but he wasn't horrible either.

The blonde glanced away from Mervin and pinned Beca with a cold stare. She wasn't afraid of Posen exactly, but she was a fan of exercising caution around an unpredictable variable. Asking too many questions could easily land her on the table next to Mervin.

“On paper you're an officer of the law and I'm a hardworking, law abiding, businesswoman.”

“Touche.”

Aubrey slid the suit jacket from her shoulders and hung it neatly from a hanger. There was a deliberateness about the way the other woman removed her cufflinks and watch and placed them in the pocket of her jacket. Beca swallowed hard when Aubrey rolled up the sleeves on her shirt and strode to the table with echoing steps. 

“You can leave now, Detective. The kitchen is gonna get hot.”

Beca narrowed her eyes at the subtle challenge. Okay sure watching Aubrey tug on leather gloves before picking up a thin steel bar and hefting it lightly in hand was alarming. But if she left now without questioning this was she really the person she thought she was? 

“You implying I can't hack the job?”

Aubrey chuckled softly and placed the bar on the table near Mervin's head. For the most part he had been sort of out of it, too many bumps in the road on the way over. He groaned and his head lolled to the side. He just stared at the bar for a moment in dazed confusion before recognition dawned on him and he started to struggle. Happy slapped him hard a few times to settle him and Beca shifted uncomfortably.

“I'm not implying anything. I'm out right telling you. You ain't got it, kid. Now beat it before you realize how dirty your hands really are.”

Whether she meant to or not Aubrey had issued a challenge that Beca couldn't ignore. She had to take a stand one way or the other. Even if it might get her killed.

“I need to know what he did, Posen. He's too small of a fish in our great big pond to deserve whatever it is you're planning.”

Aubrey picked up a torch striker and gave it an experimental squeeze to text the way it sparked. She nodded in approval before using it to point at a wide eyed and gagged Mervin.

“You're right. He's a little fish, but he's no Nemo. He's a remora.”

“Wait. Like those fish that eat shark leftovers or whatever? Where the fuck is this going?”

Aubrey lit the acetylene torch standing at the head of the table with the striker. Mervin jumped and tried to struggle but the straps around his body held him fast. She was methodical about the way she heated the end of the bar, leaving the fire on the tip until it glowed a white hot.

“Hm. Something like that. Remoras feed on shit. And this little shit eating fishie is feeding from a shark I don't want in my water.”

“I'm guessing we aren't talking a cute friendly reef shark.”

Aubrey inhaled deeply and closed her eyes for a moment. Beca was used to seeing the action and knew that the person she respected most was about to do something that she felt needed to be done. Aubrey was violent and practical to brutality but it was never without a reason. When she opened her eyes and looked at Beca there was a hollow void where most people had a soul. 

“Someone is taking women from MY streets. Teenagers, Mitchell. Young women are being stolen and sold and this stronzo, this oh so little fish, is the one finding them for his master. And do you know what he does to them? He brands them so they know who they belong to. And now I'm going to mark him.”

Aubrey raised the brand and moved to bring it close to Mervin's arm. Only Beca's shaking hand on her wrist stopped her. 

“Wait…wait…”

Whatever was going on in the Detective's head was a struggle Aubrey did not envy. Her job was simple. She did what she needed to and she didn't have to play by anyone's rules but her own. Mitchell on the other hand lived with a foot in two worlds, there were lines she couldn't cross with the same ease Aubrey did. 

Lines she shouldn't cross because she had people in her life that would never understand. Detective Mitchell had a family. Brothers and sisters and two of the most loving people as parents that chose Beca and saved her from a life in the system. Aubrey had done her research on Beca long before she ever approached her. She knew all her triggers and all her secrets. She knew them all and played on them to get what she wanted. Just like she was playing on that now. 

“Are you asking me to spare him? Do you think he spared those girls he stole and hurt? Do you think if I let him  go now he'll stop and change his ways and never touch another person's daughter…or sister?”

The look in Beca's eyes was terrible to behold. A leviathan of disgusted rage rose in the deep blue depths and if Aubrey were being honest, she was proud to see it and bothered that she had to be the one to invoke it. Hate boiled beneath the surface when Beca gripped the brand in her own hand and pressed it down with a scream on Mervin's forehead. 

Aubrey felt nothing as she watched him writhe and howl in pain behind his gag. She felt nothing when Mitchell flung the brand away and staggered drunkenly to the door outside to retch on the hard black macadam lot. She gave Mervin a disinterested look and nodded to Happy and Lilly to finish the work. They would without question or conscience and she appreciated that.

But it wasn't what she needed.

Aubrey stepped outside and knelt by Beca heaving on all fours. She reached out a tentative hand to rub the other woman's back soothingly and wasn't surprised to be shrugged off. She had pushed too far. Beca tried to scramble away, tears running down her face freely but Aubrey gathered her as easily as a child and held her while she struggled with what she had just done.

“I'm sorry Mitchell. Sorry I goaded you into it because I didn't like being questioned. Because I felt like a point needed to be made.”

“I'm gonna hork again.”

Aubrey eased away and let Beca rise on shaky feet. The way the Detective looked at her would haunt her at night when she was alone and the horrors of her life replayed themselves on repeat. Anyone else would have looked away from the accusation and revulsion. Aubrey stared back, evenly, accepting who and what she was now. She hadn’t always been this. Once it had affected her too.

“I threw up my first time too.”

“Jesus Christ, Posen. This work is fucking evil. The people that do this are fucking evil.”

You're fucking evil.

Beca didn't say it. She didn't have to. Aubrey rose and brushed the dirt off her neatly pressed slacks. Yes. She was. She nodded at the unspoken statement and smoothed her tie.

“I'm no saint, that's true.”

Something flickered in Beca’s eyes and she looked away from Aubrey. The blonde slid hands in her pockets and considered for a moment.

“I might be the devil.”

The detective turned to eye her quickly. Measuring her worth with a skill that only cops had.

“You're not the devil. You're fucking awful sometimes but you're not the devil Posen. You're trying to do a job with the only tools you have and its sick work but maybe some of it has to be done.”

“I'm a weapon, Detective. My purpose is pain and order and I am very good at it. Who I inflict pain on is how I sleep at night.”

Beca nodded and turned away to stare at the moon above. Her voice was raw and tight as she struggled to contain her emotions.

“Lesson learned. Don't question you if I don't want to become an unfeeling weapon.”

Aubrey hesitated and looked up to the moon as well. No one questioned her. Ever. Even before her father had passed and her work was new, no one had questioned the way she handled business. And perhaps that was why she was the monster she was today.

“I need you to keep questioning me, Mitchell. Even if I hate it.”

Beca glanced at her quickly again, eyes wide with surprise. Aubrey sighed deeply.

“There are lines even I shouldn't cross and I don't know if I recognize them anymore.”

“What are you asking here? You want me to be your Jiminy?”

Fatigue set in making her shoulders hunch with the weight of so many misdeeds. Seeing Detective Mitchell break down, seeing her feel something, had shown her how far removed she was from humanity. And it scared her.

“I don't flinch, Bec. Humans should flinch when they do terrible things. They should feel it in their soul. I feel nothing.”

“Jesus. You're really asking me to help you be human?”

Her lips quirked in a quick grin. If anyone could help her find her humanity again it was Beca Mitchell. Perhaps the only person alive not afraid to tell her to fuck off. 

“I just want to be a real girl.”

“Great, fantastic, maybe you can start by taking a crack at that work life balance thing. Take a night off…and don't fucking call me.”

She had taken that advice to heart and gone to a poker game hosted by a friend. Aubrey smiled softly at the memory of spending four hours letting the most gorgeous creature she had ever seen win every single dollar she had brought and her heart to boot.

Beca had been right then and she was right now. Aubrey inhaled deeply knowing she was going to end Roman and his business but Weston's friends would still be safe to continue doing what they wanted. And she wouldn't be able to do a damn about it. 

“I need to make an example of Ekzarova and make it very costly for his organization to run that line of business.”

“Too costly to be worth the effort.” Beca watched her careful nod of agreement before speaking again. “Richie Rich's friends are a lost cause aren't they?”

“For now. Yes. They have more money and resources than I do. So for now, until I can find out the right leverage on them, they skate on this.”

“We still have the proof on those drives.”

“If you thought that was enough to nail them for this you would have used it a long time ago. We both know it'll get buried and you'll find yourself out of a job.”

“And Alice?”

Alice Alice Alice. Aubrey hadn’t allowed herself to think about her ex girlfriend. She was afraid the rage would overwhelm her good sense and she would do something sloppy enough to get her caught.

“For her part in what happened to Happy? For putting her hands on Stacie…”

She gave Beca a look that didn't mask the well of darkness in her soul at the thought of ending Alice.

“She needs to be made an example of too or they'll send another just like her. But you know. Competent.”

“You asking me to cross lines Jiminy?”

“No I'm outright telling you we are going to cross lines. A lot of them.” 

“Bec…”

“Don't Aubrey.”

“You're a cop.”

She felt it bore a mention. Beca was rapidly approaching a point where there would be no turning back. She had a life and family she could easily lose.

“For what though? Did cops stop my alcoholic father from beating my crackhead mother to death in front of my face? Did cops take me out of the foster system and put me in a safe home where I felt loved for the first time in my life? I'm sorry was it the cops that found the gang banger that murdered my older brother for trying to protect a store clerk? Are cops doing anything at all to protect any of these women? No. Man…fuck the police. They are part of a system of abuse and I'm done Aubrey. I'm fucking done. You know who was there to save me? People. Just fucking good people. And a goddamn murdering mobster might be the best one of them. So don't fucking tell me what I'm losing. The answer is nothing. I lose nothing but the shame of being part of the problem.”

“Okay.”

What else could she say? Aubrey reached out a balled fist and held it steady. Beca looked at her and bumped their knuckles together. 

“I don't think I'll ever be a real girl if I lose myself in this, you know that right? What I'll have to do to end this whole thing…”

Beca's tone gentled and she looked at Aubrey with something the blonde had never seen in the Detective's eyes before. Pride.

“Aubrey, this only makes you that much more human and real.” 

They sat there a minute longer while she let that sink in. Somehow, somewhere, she had changed. Because of Beca.

“So you gonna be my best man or what?”

Mitchell was right. Fuck the police. If they were going scorched earth then it wouldn't matter who stood by her at her wedding. And she really couldn't think of anyone she wanted more at her shoulder.

“Do I get to bang hot bridesmaids?”

“No guarantee but there is an open bar and a hot doctor among the guests.”

Beca sighed heavily as if she were making a huge sacrifice at not being able to sleep her way through the wedding party. But Aubrey could see she didn't really mean it.

“Yeah alright. I guess I can rock a suit for a day. Maybe I can pass out and Doc Beale can give me some mouth to mouth.”

Beca winked at her and slid out of the car with a chuckle. The door slammed, leaving her to sit in the quiet car park alone. She had a lot to prepare and she needed to do it quickly. But right now the only thing she could focus on was getting back to Stacie to find a little peace before she burned the world to the ground.

[dcxdpdabbles]

DC X DP Fic idea: Retired-Rouge.

Danny gets into making teddy bears. He didn't start that way; honestly, he was mostly trying to fix Bearbert Einstein after his mom accidentally burnt him with a misfired ray gun.

Jazz had broken down into tears, and it had ripped apart his heart and his core to see her so distressed. He went to the local- and only- fabric store in Amity Park to find materials and try to repair his sister's beloved teddy bear when his mom's attempts to fix the bear only made him look worse.

Just his luck that the only fabric shop for miles around was Weston Fabrics and that the person manning the cashier was Wes himself. The other boy had nearly thrown him out when Danny walked in, but thankfully his older brother Kyle had talked Wes down and helped Danny find fabrics for Bearbert.

Surprisingly, Wes had even helped him set up one of their sewing stations to get started on Bearbert.

The strange part was when Danny turned the machine on and found his hands moving independently. As if he had been doing it for years, he expertly put together the bear and even went through the other fabrics to make him new outfits. Wes had watched the whole time, raising a brow when Danny got up to pay.

"Thought you didn't know how to sew?"

"I thought so too. Must be a ghost thing." Danny replied then smirked as the redhead glared.

"A ghost thing?" Wes all but sneers. He still trying to expose Danny as Phantom and had yet to get proof, even with Danny teasing him in the open. As it were, Kyle, who was unpacking new needles rolled his eyes behind the red hair teenager.

"Yeah, since I have a protection core as Phantom, it sometimes transfers into my human side. Do you know how teddy bears guard children at night against bad dreams? Same thing"

Wes pauses, then slowly blinks; he whispers with a small baffled smile, "That's kind of adorable. A teddy bear to keep you safe through the night."

And Danny? He didn't mean to, but he found Wes sort of hot at that moment. Not the Wow, that guy is a celebrity hot but a Be careful who you call ugly in middle school because Puberty made them delicious over the summer break hot.

He will admit that he returned to Weston Fabrics to flirt more with Wes and made so many teddy bears as a disguise. The good news was that all his works were a hit, and even some kids at school started asking for special commissions when word got around about the special Nightmerica teddy bear he made for Sam's birthday.

He makes money, gets a boyfriend, and when he donates the teddy bears to a local hospital, he discovers a new power. Through items he made himself, Danny can send waves of comforting energy to the people around the item, like a miniature zen distributor. The patients that have his toys start to show greater rest from both nightmares and lower anxiety, depression, and general sadness.

He lets Wes name this power, which later becomes the name of his teddy bear business- Phantom Relief. After dating for two years and graduating, both boys agree the spark had been lost but remain good friends. Danny takes his thriving teddy bear-making skills to his new college in Gotham while Wes leaves for Star City.

In Gotham is where things get....stranger. See, Danny knows someone new to the city will never truly understand a city's problems. But the rapid amount of homeless kids is so shocking he starts making clothes and blankets to try and give them out because they shouldn't be out there freezing like that! He even tries passing along some teddy bears to them, hoping to soothe their pain with some Zen waves.

The key word is tries.

Gotham kids do not trust or like free handouts. Danny burst into tears when a thirteen-year-old asked if he wanted the kid to use his hand or mouth in exchange for the new blanket. The street kid seemed surprised when Danny was horrified by the question. No one else found it strange, the kid said, wrapped in a Superman blanket that Danny made only a day before, it's just how things are done around here.

The worst part is the homeless thirteen-year-old is right. Everywhere he looks, Danny finds more people needing protection- physically, emotionally, and mentally. Gotham is just filled with people suffering. He couldn't keep up. It's tearing him apart trying to help everyone.

His core feels like it will burst from all the overloaded cries of help it can pick up. One night Danny can't take it anymore, so he shifts into Phantom and flies out to the old Drake manner, abandoned since Janet Drake's murder, where the cries are muffled, and dials Wes' number with shaking hands.

His ex picks up listens to his sobs and tells him "You can't save people who don't want to be saved. But you can try to reach them in a way they understand."

It's precisely what he needs to hear.

Ancients, but he misses the man sometimes. Why did Danny ever let Wes Weston go? Well, as they say, Right person, wrong time. Maybe that was why.

So Danny decided the only way to get to Gotham was to be like Gotham. And who were the people that dramatically changed the city with every random plot? With every random heist?

Gotham Rogues.

So all Phantom had to do was become one, which shouldn't be too hard since people in Amity Park still debated if he was good or not years later. He fixes up his Phantom suit to something more Gotham villain, keeping the colors but removing the jumpsuit and adding a suit and vest alongside a mask and two giant needles.

He appears in Crime Alley- because that's where the most cries come from- and just challenges everything and everyone to take the area from him. He fights off so many gangs- even Red Hood, who puts up a great fight- but after the dust settles, he now runs the place.

He then starts- fixing the place. Starts sending out clothes for the homeless, starts fixing up buildings, gives Phantom Reflief out-teddy bears to kids, fake emulates to adults, starts sending the gang kids back to school, forces landlords to lower the housing, and illegally makes everyone get along.

He spreads his tyranny to the rest of the city, fighting the good and bad sides of the law. The bats give him one hell of a challenge, but Danny beat the Ghost King when he was an untrained brat. This is nothing. Batman gets better with every fight, and so do his associates.

Things look good until the Joker tries him too much when the clown somehow gets to Wes. Has the love of his life tied to a bomb with enough Joker Venom to fill half the city, and Danny sees red.

When he comes to, it's to Wes holding him in his arms, whispering reassurances, and Joker nothing but a smear on the ground. Danny can't live with what he's done; he runs away, shifts into his human side, and vows to never be Phantom again.

After four years of peace due to Phantom's hostile takeover, Gotham mourns the loss but doesn't fall into so much crime now that the ghost crime lord is gone. Danny thinks he's done his job and chooses to melt into the background. He opens a little shop for fabrics and custom-made teddy bears.

Wes finds him, agrees to try and rekindle their love, and a year later agrees to the marriage.

All is well until seventeen-year-old Tim Drake strolls into his fabric shop. Clutching a superboy teddy bear, he gave a shivering fourteen-year-old the first week as Phantom Gotham Villain with a stern look in his eye.

"Phantom- I need you to help me find Batman, who is lost in time, or I will expose your secret identity to the rest of Gotham."

Well, shit.

[phxntomhives]

My Kuroshitsuji AU

This started because I wanted to write something else. All this was supposed to be the introduction. But it is too long, so take this for now.

Spoiler for well, all kuroshitsuji manga.

Important premise: the fire didn't happen/it happened but the Phantomhive survived (sorry servants). R!Ciel is not a sociopath as he may be now as a bizzare doll, what we saw when he was a child was a slightly obsessive brother that wanted to stay with his twin, for this AU he just grew up and maintained a couple of those traits. Sebastian also isn't here.

The twins life at Weston!

Since it's a happy AU (mostly), the twins just get enrolled to Weston, where they both go to Sapphire Owl.

Lawrence takes a like on both of them, tho he is more comfortable with O!Ciel since he is less mischievious.

R!Ciel may affectionally bully O!Ciel and Lawrence would defend him, projecting on him a little.

R!Ciel then actively starts a fight against Lawrence when he sees them bonding a little too much.

"Leave my brother alone, if you want a younger brother ask your parents. This is mine" and proceed to stalk them both.

Edward has to come and stop him as the older cousin. It didn't work, but R!Ciel did decide to slow his obsession down a little.

R!Ciel also absolutely despises McMillan, at first. But since he is always with O!Ciel, he can't do anything about it but suffer in silence. After a while McMillan shows that he is extremely good at getting information so he starts to warm up to him a little.

O!Ciel is better at fags/drudges activities so he is noticed by the P4, and R!Ciel is extremely pleased and runs around showing off his little brother.

Then Maurice tricks O!Ciel and R!Ciel gets furious at him. He tried to defend him with the other students but since they are twins they don't trust him.

When he overhears the night conversation between O!Ciel and McMillan, McMillan finally earned his seal of approval. From the next day R!Ciel treats him almost like he treats O!Ciel and he doesn't know why but accepts gladly the change of pace.

Later, thanks to Soma, the twins discover about Maurice plan and together bring it down with the same plan as in the manga (tho they had to do the work instead of just using Sebastian, so it took a little longer).

When Maurice tried to harm O!Ciel, R!Ciel joined Herman and Edward in running to the rescue. He checked his brother, ignoring Maurice completely.

The day after they exposed the truth, R!Ciel went home for the day for "personal business". Some days after Maurice was "so embarrassed that his real look's was reveal that decided to quit school and went to hide at home". No one ever saw him again.

O!Ciel tried to ask about the sudden disappearance to R!Ciel but he just smiled and said he had no idea what he was talking about. They are both very good actors.

No one mention it again, but all the students are now slightly scared of R!Ciel. McMillan thanks God that he somehow ended up on his good side.

After this, they both get to join the cricket team because they showed how to be smart and quick-witted.

They also both train very hard, R!Ciel has an easier life adapting and improving on the physical aspect, while O!Ciel relies more on strategy and mental play.

When the tournament comes, it happens with the same strategies. Vincent is in the spectators seats and he is trying his best not to laugh too loudly from his seat. He is very proud.

Diederik is also present and he is fuming while watching the matches. He will scold them both later.

Rachel is loudly cheering them both and encouraging them.

R!Ciel can actually make a couple of points in a fair way! It's more luck than anything but he talks about it like they were decisive.

The final strategy of switching the ball was O!Ciel's idea, but he didn't share the part about being hit on purpose by Greenhill with his twin.

When he got hit, R!Ciel froze on the spot, but O!Ciel was focused on the game and went on with the plan.

After he recover from the shock, R!Ciel doesn't let anyone get close to him, almost growling, and somehow brings him to the nurse. Vincent and Rachel follow soon after.

While O!Ciel is being visited, R!Ciel is outside picking a fight with Greenhill who doesn't fight back bevause he feels guilty. Diederik has to stop him.

O!Ciel gets invited to the midnight tea party, he feels guilty about going because R!Ciel can't go. R!Ciel doesn't stop him but follows him until he can because he is worried something may happen.

Nothing happens tho! We are happy here!

No one shuts up about the blue miracle part 2. Vincent can't stop bragging, especially to Diederik. Rachel talks about it to anyone that has ears.

Every year after that, the twins made it a personal goal to win especially to flex about it to Vincent and because they need more material to annoy uncle Diederik. So they spend their free time at school coming up with more complex and wild strategies.

The manual with the rules for cricket became twice its size by the time they graduated, because they had to keep add rules to not make the twins cheat. But they still won for all the years they frequented. After the second year they win, both the twins just annoy Vincent with "What would you know about sport? You only won once"

Do you want more? I have so much more, this arc is my will to live.

Edit: I made part 2 here

[porcelana-r0ta]

The Curse of Sight, Part 5

[Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6]

Ao3 Link (only available to Ao3 members)

Summary: When Wes Weston meets Tim Drake-Wayne, the dots start connecting. And those dots form a bat. 

xxXxx

Tim Drake first met Wes Weston not as Tim, but as Red Robin. 

His initial impression of the kid was that he was either stupid or had no self-preservation, or a combination of both. What kind of person tries to make conversation with their mugger? Who just stands there and tries convincing their mugger that there’s no point in mugging them?

…Disregarding the fact that in a way, it worked. When Red Robin finally intervened, the mugger was only demanding Wes’s watch instead of a wallet. Wes had officially logicked his way out of handing over his mom’s “emergencies only” credit card. 

Of course, he didn’t know the kid’s name until a few days later, when he ran into him as a civilian at Wayne Enterprises. And Tim won’t lie: he really only wandered over to him at first because he smelled coffee. Once it registered that the coffee wasn’t for him, he lost interest until he saw the exact predicament Wes was in: his hands were too full of coffee to press the elevator call button.

So Tim waltzed over and pressed the up button, then followed him in to press the kid’s floor number. He even took two of the cartons while the elevator started pulling them up. 

It was during that exchange that Tim actually recognized Wes as the civilian who was too mouthy for his own good. Maybe Tim should have recognized him sooner, but he wasn’t exactly running on five hours of sleep, it’d been a few days, and Tim can’t remember every person he saves because then he’d have no room for important memories, like where to get the best coffee, and what insults annoy Damian the most.

After making the connection between the redhead civilian and the redhead intern, it amused Tim to note how Wes seemed more frightened of him than the mugger. But it made sense in the capitalist America they lived in: Tim is his boss, who holds much more financial power over Wes than a one-time mugger. Of course he’s more scared of one of the people who can determine if he’ll get into a good college and have a good job. 

The interaction should have just ended with him helping Wes drop off the coffee to the PR Department, but then Jade Oswald started aggressively shoving the cardboard carton holders into Wes’s hands, and Wes just took it. 

This was what Wes’d been so worried about. 

Tim puts a swift stop to it, and makes a Wayne-typical flirty statement to Wes about bringing him a coffee next time he runs out. It doesn’t occur to his caffeine-addled mind until patrol that night that a baby intern might take the CEO’s words seriously. 

Oops. 

Well, they were going to have that meeting with PR in the morning anyway, so it’d be fine. He’d be able to correct it then. 

But then he didn’t see Wes when he and Bruce went to floor 73, and the meeting was interrupted by Wes to drop off coffee, and Wes remembered his order. 

And he ordered blond espresso because it has more caffeine, something that Alfred won’t let him have anymore for that exact reason. 

Tim’s pretty sure there were stars in his eyes as he whispered, “You are a coffee god.” 

After that, he couldn't just not enable Wes to bring him the nectar of the gods. He gave Wes his phone number and told him to inform him when he’s on a coffee run so he can tell Wes where he’s at. The next day, when Wes dutifully texted him, Tim jumped at the opportunity to escape from Lucius Fox’s coded scoldings about tearing up some of the Bat-tech he provides. As they walked and talked, Tim found that he actually had a lot in common with Wes, and that the intern was quick-witted even if a little anxious. 

And, well. The rest is history, as they say. 

“Did you finally ask Wes to the Pride Gala, Tim?” Steph asks gleefully at supper. 

He resists the urge to sink lower in his seat. It’d be too big of a tell. Still, he can’t keep the grumble out of his voice when he says, “...Kinda.”

“Kinda?”

He mutters something under his breath.

“What was that, Timmers?” Dick asks. He’s still on a short leash thanks to being kidnapped as a civilian last week, so he’d compromised and agreed to drive in for supper a few times this week to put Bruce’s worried dad-heart at rest. 

“I said I asked him and Rebecca to work the gala for TikTok!” 

Everyone else’s side conversations halt at his words, and not even the clatter of silverware can be heard. 

Tim allows himself to sink further into his seat now. 

“So you have a crush on this kid and to spend time with him, you asked him to work an event?” Dick asks.

He shifts the piece of steak he’d cut around on his plate, “...Uh, yes. That covers it.”

“Wow,” Duke comments. “That’s gotta be some kind of abuse of power.” 

Tim whips his head up at that, “You think so? Should I tell him never mind? I don’t want to—”

“Now, Master Timothy,” Alfred chimes in from his place at the table beside Bruce. “I don’t think there’s reason to panic. You spend a lot of time with him as equals, don’t you? If he didn’t want to work the event, I’m sure he would feel comfortable saying no.”

But now Tim’s nerves are fried, and he’s glad for the fork in his hand that prevents him from playing with the hem of his hoodie. “But I’m the CEO of the company he works at. How can I be sure that any of this is consensual on his end? I—”

“You’re worried about nothing,” Steph cut in comfortingly. She smirks, “Besides, I’ve stalked you two on multiple occasions now. It’s safe to say he likes you.” 

He slams his fork onto the plate to point at her angrily, “I knew it! I got into a fight with Jason because of you!” She’d told him that the older boy was planning on stalking them for blackmail material, and he’d pinned the stare he could feel on the back of his head as Jason’s. He should’ve known it was psychological espionage. 

Steph only grins innocently, “You two were really cute at Robinson Park. I mean, when you—”

He picks his fork back up and flings it at her. She dodges accordingly and the fork lodges in the back of her seat, right where her head would have been. 

“Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne!” Bruce scolds. 

“Middle-named,” Dick hisses. “Ouch.” 

“I didn’t know you were taking lessons from Damian,” Steph says casually, removing the fork from the wood and tossing it back to him. 

He catches it and says simultaneously with Damian, “I would never.” 

They exchange irritated looks at the accidental twinning. 

“Don’t,” Bruce says when Damian opens his mouth. The younger shuts his mouth obligingly and returns to eating his food. Bruce turns back to Tim, “You know better than to throw silverware at the dinner table.” 

Tim sighs, “You’re right. Sorry, Alfred.” 

“Thank you, Master Timothy,” Alfred gracefully accepts as Bruce’s brow twitches. 

“Really, Tim?” 

“Really, what, B? You’ll need to be more specific.” 

Bruce only sighs, and Tim and Steph snicker in response. 

“Back to the matter at hand,” Dick says, “you should really work on your communication skills, Tim. You don’t wanna end up like Bruce, do you?”

“All of my relationships have been perfectly fine, Dick.” Bruce rolls his eyes. 

Tim squints scrutinizingly at Bruce, “No, no. He has a point.” 

Even Damian nods, “It’s true, Father. Even Mother says that you are not adept at communication in romantic relationships.” 

“Gross, didn’t need to know that.” Steph wrinkles her nose, and Tim mirrors the action subconsciously in his own disgust. 

“Yeah, way TMI, Baby Bat,” Dick says. 

Dinner continues in much the same affair, and at the end, Tim follows Damian up to his room. 

“Why are you following me, Drake?” Damian finally asks when he gets to his bedroom door instead of continuing to ignore Tim. 

“I wanted to ask you something—”

“The answer is no.”

“You haven’t even heard me out yet!”

Damian sighs, long-suffering like he’s 80 and not 12. “What is it?” 

“I had a meeting with Penny Rolland and others at PR,” he starts. He should credit Wes, but he knows that Damian will say no if he knows it’s just an intern’s idea. “We were thinking of utilizing WE’s new TikTok for some Wayne Family exposure that wouldn’t include the press. Our first idea is having you introduce your pets.” 

The look Damian gives him is unimpressed, “You just want an excuse to have your crush in Wayne Manor without the paparazzi scaring him off.”

“That’s not true! I can invite him over without needing work as an excuse!”

“Drake, all you are is work. It’s disgusting.” Damian furrows his brow in emphasis, looking every inch the Wayne he is. 

Tim rolls his eyes, “Okay, fine. I’ll have an interview scheduled with Grey Howard for you, then.” 

Grey Howard was easily the most nosy, intolerable, and uncomfortable human being to have ever cursed the world with her presence. It was a punishment to even be in the same building as her, nevermind be interviewed by her. 

Damian’s eyes narrowed, “You wouldn’t.” 

“Try me.” Tim squares his shoulders back. 

They glare into each other’s eyes for a good thirty seconds before Damian breaks with a scoff, “Fine. But Richard brings Haley and I get to approve of everything that goes in this plebeian ‘TikTok,’ understood?” 

“Of course.” Tim knows how much of a sacrifice it is to have a public persona. Sure, there wasn’t any privacy in a place like the League of Assassins, but being surrounded by nosy assassins was a lot different from being in the spotlight of the demanding public. Public that felt like they were entitled to every space the Waynes could inhabit, even their home. “Thanks… Damian.”

“Tt. Whatever, Drake.” Then he backed into his room and slammed the door. 

That actually went better than expected. Still, Tim is 80% sure he only agreed because he’d get to show off his beloved pets, and he’d get to see Haley.

Tim heads back to his room and shoots off a quick text to Dick about Friday, which he gets a quick, “Show off my baby Haley? Ofc I’m in!” in response. As expected. 

He then finishes off a few WE emails and then heads to the cave to suit up for patrol. He’s been taking a new route lately, a route that passes over Wes’s home. And if he tends to linger there for longer than normal, watching for threats or maybe even just a glimpse of red hair, then well. That’s between him and Gotham’s smoggy sky. 

xxXxx

The next day at work, Tim can’t make it to Wes’s coffee run, too caught up with the Board to swing down. But when his lunch break rolls around, he leaves his office. 

“Sadie, I’m going out for lunch. I’ll be back at one,” he informs his secretary. 

“You’ve been taking more breaks lately,” she notes, organizing a stack of papers. “Normally, you work through lunch.” 

“Is this a bad thing?”

“On the contrary, Mr. Drake-Wayne.” Sadie pauses in her work to make eye contact. “I think it’s a very good thing. And I have heard that it’s for a good boy, hm?”

Tim’s ears grow hot. Damn office gossip. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Mh-hmm, of course, Mr. Drake-Wayne. Enjoy your lunch. I’ll hold your calls until 1:30.”

“I said I’d be back by one.” 

“And I said I’d hold your calls until 1:30.” 

So basically, don’t come back until 1:30. 

God, she is just like Alfred. But that’s why he’d hired her and kept her on. Bruce’s secretary, Bev, is very similar, even. 

“You got it. You enjoy your lunch, too.”

“Thank you, Mr. Drake-Wayne.” 

Tim then rushes for the elevator and hits the summon button, trying to feel less hot. 

Stop. Blushing. 

The elevator dings and the door opens, and the space inside is blessedly empty. He enters and hits the 73rd floor.  His ride is only interrupted once by two busy-talking suits from the law department, and he’s able to get away with minimal interaction. 

When the elevator opens to the floor of the PR Department, he makes his way over to Rebecca’s cubicle, where Wes can always be found. 

Only, he’s not there. 

He frowns as he takes in the sight of Rebecca focused on her desktop, typing away on a Google Doc, and the empty stool that should be occupied by Wes. He knocks on the side of the cubicle for Rebecca’s attention, and her head whips to look at him. 

“Oh, Mr. Drake-Wayne,” she says. “Looking for Wes?”

“Yes, would you happen to know where he is?” 

“He’s with Ms. Rolland,” she answers. “They’re in her office.” 

“Ah,” he says. With his mom. That makes sense. “Okay, thanks. While I’m here, I should tell you that Damian and Dick have agreed to appear on the WE TikTok to introduce their pets to the public.” 

Her eyes light up, “Really? That’s great! Thank you, Mr. Drake-Wayne. I’ll draft up a narration, but it’ll still be the two introducing the pets and telling the audience about them. So it’ll be more like, ‘Ever wondered about the beloved pets of the Waynes? Well, let’s take a look!’ type of thing, and then your brothers would tell us about them and show them off, and maybe play with them a little.”

“That sounds great, Rebecca.” And it does because it’s low effort for Damian, who wants to stab a katana through a camera more than he wants to smile at one. “I’ll talk to you and Wes about it more later, okay?”

“For sure,” she nods vigorously. “Enjoy your lunch date, sir.” 

Aaaaaannnnd the burning ears are back. “Lunch date?”

“Oh, sorry, is that not what you needed Wes for?” Rebecca blinks innocently. “I didn’t mean to assume….”

Wait. Hold on. If that’s what Rebecca was assuming, does that mean she—

Has Wes told her something? Confided a crush in her? Or… is this just teasing like with Sadie? 

His stomach twists, and he vaguely thinks that maybe he should reprimand her—they don’t have a working relationship like he does with Sadie—but he’s Gen Z and much less uptight than his older employees, and he’s more concerned with the potential of what Wes thinks of him. 

He opens his mouth to ask, and then clicks it shut when the movement brings a surge of fear. 

“I should go,” he hears himself say, and then he walks at a perfectly normal and calm pace to Ms. Rolland’s office. 

He clasps his palms over his cheeks a few times to tame the redness, takes a deep breath, and then knocks. At the immediate call of, “Come in,” he opens the door. 

“Mr. Drake-Wayne,” Penny greets upon seeing him come through the door, and Wes’s head snaps up at him from where he’d been hunching over a laptop. “Here for my son?” 

Well, at least it makes sense for her to ask that, he thinks despairingly to himself before clearing his throat, “Ah, yes, I was hoping he’d be alright with going out to lunch with me?” 

Wes fiddles with his fingers, cracking the joints within them, “Yeah, I’ll go. Mom?” 

“Where do you plan on going?” she asks, and Wes cuts a questioning glance to Tim. 

“I was thinking Chinese?” he suggests. “Probably Chopsticks, since it’s close by.” 

“Chinese sounds good,” Wes agrees, shutting his laptop and standing, then setting the laptop down on the chair he’d been occupying. “I’ll see you, Mom. Should we bring you anything back?”

“No, just have fun. Both of you.”

“You got it, Ms. Rolland,” Tim replies and holds open the door for Wes. 

They exit Wayne Enterprises, keeping up a steady flow of conversation between them as they go, and Tim taking the lead. Chopsticks is only a few blocks away, but they have to cross a few streets to get there. Because Gotham traffic is nothing to sneeze at, it’ll take a while to get there. 

“How’s work been? Find anything about the My Immortal fan?” Wes asks casually as the sun beats down on them even while behind gray clouds. 

“No,” Tim snorts. It’s been driving B crazy. And Barbara and Tim himself, of course. The guy has no history—he’s brand new to the game. They didn’t even get a name from him, so Bruce has taken to calling him N—short for Neon, which derives from the toxic green highlighting his otherwise black suit. Dick, on the other hand, refers to him as Ebony Dark’ness Dementia Raven Way. Or just Ebony for short. 

One of the misnomers has more character than the other. Bruce is, unsurprisingly, outvoted in Ebony’s name. At least when with most of his kids. 

“That’s too bad,” Wes says. “But I guess you’re more worried about the gala, huh?” 

“Yeah,” Tim agrees, even if it’s a lie. He’s had way too many sleepless nights analyzing the video of Ebony to be too concerned with the Pride Gala. “It’s… a lot.” 

Wes nods, his lips turning down a tic, “I bet. I mean, you’re like, the glue of WE. And you’re only seventeen.” 

If Tim wasn’t a Bat, he’s pretty sure he would have faltered in his step. But Tim is a Bat and so instead, his eyes just flick to Wes’s for a fraction of a second. 

It’s true. He is only seventeen. But Tim feels much, much older than that some days. He feels older than Jason, older than Dick, older than Bruce. (But maybe not older than Alfred, who has the wisdom of the gods, really.) 

“Yeah.” He swallows. His throat suddenly feels dry. “I am.” 

Wes senses this sudden turn, and he gently elbows Tim in the ribs. “Hey,” he says. “You’re doing great. I mean, I couldn’t do half of what you do. It’s honestly exhausting to think about. My mom watches the news every morning before we go to work, and WE stock is way higher since you took over. Still, you could stand to act more like a teenager.” 

“I could, huh?” He chuckles, but his mind is clouded. He thinks of how he was when he was eleven, ten, nine. He thinks of absent parents and empty mansions with empty pantries. 

“Totally,” Wes nods emphatically. “We’ll work on it. We’ll– we’ll— I dunno, go to a stupid B movie or go to a carnival that took only twelve hours of set up, or something. Something normal dangerous, and not Gotham dangerous. And we’ll play dumb carnival games and spend too much money trying to win rigged games, and we’ll ride rides that are held together with duct tape.” 

Tim’s lips quirk up. What Wes is describing sounds remarkably like a date. His heart sings at the idea, and his brain points out all the moments of Wes’s blushing and stuttering, like he was nervous around a crush. And Tim hopes. 

God, he hopes. 

“A carnival, huh?” he asks, and chickens out of suggesting that it’s a date. Because all the signals that Wes has given could be nerves from speaking with the CEO of the company he works at, the company his mother works at. “My brother might be a little offended over your description of a carnival, though.”

“He was in the circus, not the carnival. It’s totally different.” Wes shakes his head and slams his hand into the last call button for the crosswalk before they’ll be on the correct block for Chopsticks. As they wait, a few other Gothamites join them at the sidewalk corner. 

“Is it?” he muses, even though he can hear Dick in his head outlining all the differences between a carnival and a circus. 

“It totally is,” Wes insists. “C’mon, dude. I live in the most— I live in the middle of nowhere. All we have is the yearly carnival. I think I’d know. We did have a circus, once, but. It was this whole thing.” 

“A whole thing?”

“Yeah.” Wes winces. “It was some scheme to steal jewelry, or whatever. So now we just have the carnival when it comes to town.” 

Huh, interesting. Maybe he’d have to check that out, just to get his mind off Ebony for a while. 

“Well, that sucks. What town are you from again?”

The light switches from an angry orange hand to a cheerful, white stick figure in the middle of walking. Wes answers as they begin to cross the street, “I’m from Amity Park, Illinois. It’s the middle of nowhere, like I said. But we did have Ember McLain come for a concert, once!” 

Tim already knew he was from Amity Park, IL. And Tim knows a lot more than what Wes has told him, too. There’s so much a person can discover from just the internet and a phone number. Well, that, and Tim has access to a lot of employee information. 

“Ember McLain?” he asks in surprise. He hasn’t done that much research into Amity, just enough to know more about Wes. But a town that size having a big-name celebrity like Ember come for a concert? That was odd. 

Wes nods, “Yeah, it was really cool. A fan did almost fall off a billboard, though. Which, really. Dumb as hell. Could never be me.” 

They reach the restaurant and enter, and as it’s a seat-yourself restaurant, Tim leads Wes over to an empty booth in the back corner of the establishment, where they will be less likely to be noticed. It’s dimly lit, but Tim can still make out every one of Wes’s freckles. Once they sit, they each grab a menu from the menu stand at the table and talk as they peruse their food options. 

“That’s scary,” Tim comments idly, already planning to search for a newspaper article about the incident. “Did you go to the concert?” Did you see it? 

“Yeah,” Wes says. “Pretty much everyone did. The guy was one of my classmates.” 

“Sounds traumatizing.” 

“He was fine. Dumb, though. Like I said, could never be me. His girlfriend was pissed, though. Or, well. Friend. They’re dating now. But not at the time. Sorry, that’s probably boring.” 

“Ah,” Tim says. Small-town drama is fascinating. “Not at all! I want to hear more about your life.” 

Wes looks away. His blush is somehow more noticeable in the dark than in Gotham’s poor excuse of sunlight. Tim hopes it means crush and not embarrassed to only have small-town stories. “Really?” he asks. 

“Really,” Tim reassures. “Honestly, we don’t get that kind of close-knit knowledge of neighbors in a place like Gotham. We just know about every villain’s drama, which. Less fun than knowing which of your classmates was a creepy celebrity-stalker.” 

Tim is sure that he’s the classmate in this scenario. Which, well. Is unfortunate. But his first meeting with Wes was through mugging! Clearly, his friend needed to be looked after. 

“Haha,” Wes giggles nervously, and Tim’s heart lurches in his chest. Cute! “I guess that’s fair. Okay, so there’s this guy—” Tim’s heart then stops, “—who is, like, obsessed with one of my classmates. Bully type, you know? It’s totally because he’s in love with him.” 

Tim’s heart hesitantly begins beating again. “Oh?”

Wes nods, “For sure. I mean, you don’t give that amount of attention to someone unless you like them. We’re both on the basketball team, but Dash’s main focus is on football. Naturally. Anyway, he started getting tutoring from the kid’s older sister just to be around him more. Embarrassing, really. And pathetic. Just admit you’re gay and move on. And you’re not five anymore; pig-tail pulling is not the way to go. But he’s toned down a lot on the bullying since his parents divorced and his mom got custody, so. There’s that, I guess.” 

“That’s good,” Tim says, and thinks, Please keep talking. Please stay with me.

“Yeah, I guess. Maybe he’ll finally realize that his best friend is super in love with him and they’ll get together.” 

Tim looks at Wes and says, “Yeah, maybe.”

xxXxx

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[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

Only the Strong Survive Ch. 7

Series Summary: Lexie Weston is in a terrible, abusive marriage. In her mind and soul, she feels like she has no way out that won't result in her death. But something changes in her life to make her take the risk. Can she rely on Sheriff Beau Arlen to protect her like he said he would, or will this risk lead to ruin?

Pairings: Beau Arlen x OFC (eventual)

Series Warnings/Explicit 18+: Smut, Angst, Fluff throughout. A pretty slow burn, TW: Abusive marriage, Domestic abuse will be talked about throughout. Chapter warnings will be more specific

Word Count: 3,329

Chapter Summary: Y/N wants to explore the connection she feels to Beau, but will that sever it?

Chapter Warnings: None. Kissing.

A/N: K, so the next chapter definitely came out faster than the last. Lol! The momentum feels good on the series, I think I might ACTUALLY finish it sooner than the end of February if I don't stall out. Wish me luck! And as always if you enjoy the series/chapter, please comment and/or reblog. It makes a HUGE difference in keeping that momentum going.

Hope you enjoy Ch. 7!

The beautiful divider at the bottom was created by @saradika

The night was cold now, and Lexi pulled her heavy coat tighter around her. She could hear people laughing and talking, saying their farewells as they packed up and put out the bonfire. She knew she needed to go too, the school bus would be headed back to Haven House very soon. But she just wanted to breathe it all in a bit longer.

“So.” Beau said as he walked up beside her. “What do you think? Did we manage to throw you a decent graduation party?”

She looked at him and was struck anew at how incredibly beautiful he was. She smiled shyly and sighed deeply, looking back out at the mountains surrounding them, purple in the darkness. She gazed up at the full moon and shook her head.

“I think…I think this might be the, the best time I’ve ever had.”

She looked up at Beau and saw his slight befuddlement. She shrugged and looked away. “I was just thinking about…” She trailed off, and wondered whether Beau actually wanted to hear any of this. But when she snuck another glance at him, his eyes were curious and encouraging. That look, of interest and consideration, was one of the things that made his eyes so incredibly beautiful. 

So she carried on.

“The reason I dropped out of high school was, well…my dad - he drank a lot. He was…I think he was a good man, had a good heart, but he was just…I don’t know, lost I guess. My mom, she died when I was really little. I don’t remember her at all, but…” She smiled sadly. “He did, and I think it just kind of ate at him you know. I mean, I know he…he loved me and I loved him too. But, he couldn’t take care of me, couldn’t take care of himself. So, someone had to…” She gave a brief resigned laugh.  “Someone had to buy the milk, pay the electric bill, you know. So, I dropped out, started working.”

The wind kicked up a bit and blew a curl over her forehead and she tucked it back behind her ear before continuing. “But, I mean, I really liked school. So leaving…” She stopped to glance at Beau again and his smile was soft and understanding. “Well, it sucked.”

Beau nodded. “I bet.” He said quietly.

Lexi shrugged. “And I…I know my GED, it’s not the same as graduating, but…” She started to duck her head, but instead she caught herself and raised her chin. “I guess, I feel…I don’t know, I guess - I’m proud of myself.”

She wanted to immediately take back the words, but she told herself that she wouldn’t. She meant what she said.

Beau’s smile was blinding. “Oh, sweetheart, you should be proud of yourself. What you’ve accomplished…” He shook his head. “Not only with getting your diploma, but just everything. You deserve to feel incredibly proud.”

His praise was a lot for Lexi to take. She loved it, and felt it spread warm and happy through her heart, but she had to look away from him, looking back up at the moon instead.

“Anyway,” she shrugged again. “I was just standing here thinking, ‘When was the last time I felt like this?’ and I realized…I don’t ever remember feeling like this. Which is probably pathetic. But…I think…my whole life I’ve been just…surviving, you know. And now…I feel like I’m living, I feel like tonight was the start of that.”

She crossed her arms, suddenly feeling a bit embarrassed with her wordy confession. “Does that make sense?”

Beau nodded. “It makes perfect sense, yes. And I’m so glad for you.”

From over by the bus, Sarah called for Lexi. Lexi waved back and gave a thumbs up to show she heard. 

“Well, anyway I guess I should…” She thumbed towards the group waiting on her. 

“Right.” Beau took a step back, but Lexi stopped him.

“Wait, I was wondering…would you do me a big favor?”

“Sure.” Beau answered immediately.

“It’s not really, like, a professional thing, or…well, it’s a personal favor.” Lexi cautioned him. “So, please feel free to say no. I’ll completely understand.”

Beau gave a chuckle and shook his head. “What do you need?”

Lexi bit her lip and watched Beau’s eyes dart to her mouth. Something in his gaze made her core muscle clench and she had to look at the ground and take in a deep breath before she could continue.

“I have a um, appointment tomorrow…it’s my sonogram appointment.” She glanced at him with an excited expression. “I finally get to see the baby. But…I don’t wanna - I don’t wanna go alone.”

She dipped her head in the direction of the bus. “And Cicely has an appointment with her case worker, so…would you consider going with me?”

Beau hesitated a moment, and Lexi panicked and reassured him. “Seriously, it’s a lot to ask, so if you can’t do it -”

But Beau interrupted her. “Of course, happy to. What time?”

Lexi let out a breath. “It’s at one.”

“Okay, I’ll pick you up.”

Sarah honked the bus horn and Lexi waved and turned towards the bus before turning back quickly and impulsively throwing her arms around Beau’s neck to give him a hug. He hugged her back, and it occurred to her how perfect it felt to be held by him. She didn’t want to let go.

But she knew everyone was waiting, so she smiled at him shyly one more time before walking quickly towards the bus, wondering how long the warm and inviting scent of his cologne would linger on her coat.

***

“Alexandria Weston?”

Lexi looked up at the young woman in mint green scrubs and nodded. She hoped the name change papers went through soon. 

Beau stood up with her and placed his hand on her lower back, guiding her towards the swinging door where the nurse waited patiently. The feeling of his touch, warm and reassuring, made some of the nervousness in her belly fade away, while causing a new kind of fluttering throughout her body.

Oh boy.

They entered a small room, slightly crowded with a table and equipment. The nurse took some basic information from Lexi before helping her up onto the table.

“The technician will be in shortly.” She smiled and left them alone in the cramped room. 

Beau looked around and smiled. “This brings back memories.” He caught Lexi’s eye and winked. “Really good ones. I’ll never forget the way it felt to see Em for the first time.” He reached over and squeezed her hand. “I’m happy to be here with you for this.”

Lexi felt her eyes get inexplicably moist and she beamed at him. “I’m so grateful.”

Before Beau could respond, the technician entered with a bright smile. “Good afternoon. My name is Helena. How’s everyone feeling today?” She said as she shut the door behind her. 

“Good.” Lexi and Beau said in unison.

Helena pulled the machine forward and pulled her stool up close to the table. Beau shifted around to Lexi’s other side, so he wasn’t in the way. But he picked up her hand again and Lexi squeezed it tightly, nervous despite her excitement.

“Alright folks!” The bubbly tech said, “Ready to meet your baby?”

“Oh, uh…” Lexi started to correct her, worried it would embarrass Beau to be mistaken for the father, but he squeezed her hand again, and gave a little shake of his head and a wink, letting her know it didn’t matter to him.

“Yeah,” he answered Helena, “we’re ready.”

Lexi felt her heart squeeze, imagining for just a minute how much simpler and happier her life would be if it was the truth. But before she could get too lost in wishful thinking, Helena pushed up her t-shirt to squirt out some cold jelly onto her stomach.

“Ooh!” Lexi exclaimed. “That’s cold.”

Helena smiled. “Yeah, I know. Sorry.” She pushed the wand around through the jelly, watching the screen.

Lexi shook her head and was going to tell her it was fine, but suddenly there was a sound like a freight train and Lexi gasped. 

“Is that…”

“Your baby’s heartbeat.” Helena smiled as she moved the wand a little lower and the sound intensified.

“Oh my god.” Lexi’s voice was barely a breath. She stared raptly at the screen trying to make out the image. Clearly having done this many times, Helena began to explain.

“Here is your baby’s head.” She smoothed her finger over a tiny round silhouette on the screen, before continuing on. “And here is their spine, and down over the bum. And here you can see their limbs and we can even make out their fingers and toes.” She smiled at Lexi. “They’re waving at us.”

Tears were falling unchecked down Lexi’s face. A feeling like nothing she’d ever known swept over her and she felt pure joy and astounding fear in exactly equal measure. 

“Oh,” Helena said with a smile. “Of course, we caution that we can never be one hundred percent certain, but do you want to know the sex?”

Lexi’s stomach dipped. “Yes.” She said immediately, anticipation rampant in her mind.

“Well, folks, it looks like you are going to have a bouncing baby boy.”

Lexi couldn’t process her own feelings and her mind raced from one thought to the next, there was a bit of panic setting in as everything felt suddenly very real in a way it simply hadn’t until that moment. All of a sudden the abstract future looked very distinct. Her son had a face in her mind, he was a mischievous toddler running away from her at the park, he was a chubby baby with a toothy smile and tiny fingers, he was a teenage boy slouching in his chair, he was a little boy with a splinter who was crying for her, he was a man hugging her goodbye as he left for college.

In the span of thirty seconds her son’s entire life spun through her mind and the panic grew. How could she possibly do this? She wasn’t capable of this, she was going to screw him up somehow, she was going to -

Suddenly both of Beau’s big hands closed over the one he held and he held it tighter. He spoke to Helena.

“How's the little guy doin’? Everything look good?”

Helena nodded. “Yes, he looks fabulous. Everything is developing normally, he's a good, healthy size, he's great.”

Beau raised Lexi's knuckles to his lips and pressed a kiss there. “That's because of you.” He said softly. “Because you've kept him safe and taken such good care of him. You should be proud of that too.”

Lexi looked up into Beau's face and a wave of tenderness and gratitude washed over her as his green eyes sparkled down at her. How had he known just what to say? How did he know what she was thinking, how she’d been panicking at the magnitude of feeling sweeping through her? He was…incredible.

“Thank you.” She said simply, but what she meant was, “Thank you for saving me yet again.”

***

“I don’t wanna go back to the station yet.” Beau said as he was pulling out of the clinic parking lot. “What do you say we stop for ice cream? There’s an amazing place, Suzie’s Sundaes, they’ve got a million flavors.”

Lexi smiled mischievously. “You should know better than to tempt a pregnant woman with ice cream.”

Beau chuckled. “Suzie’s it is.”

After getting their ice cream, a scoop of Coffee Praline for Beau and one of Cookie Dough for Lexi, Beau nodded his head towards the park across the street.

“Wanna walk?”

Lexi nodded. “I’d love to.” 

As they crossed the street, Beau put his free hand on her lower back again, safeguarding her as they crossed, and there was something in the gesture that made Lexi want to bat her eyes and giggle like a schoolgirl. There was just something about Beau that tended to make her head spin. 

It had been like this, almost from the beginning she admitted now, but until Cicely had brought it up, she’d been doing a great job at pretending the feelings didn't exist. But now those thoughts and emotions just wouldn’t go away. She’d never felt this way about anyone. Not ever. 

Given her history, she was surprised by how little the feelings scared her. She was nervous, only because she wasn’t sure that Cicely was right about Beau’s feelings towards her, and she was aware of the awful timing of it all. But fear didn’t enter in.

She had no fear where Beau was concerned. Her therapist at Haven House had spoken with her about what to lookout for in future relationships - red flags, she’d called them. But with Beau, there were no red flags; it was all green.

They wandered through the park for a while, both enjoying their ice cream and the scent of spring in the air. Eventually, Beau took her hand and pulled her off the beaten path. 

“There’s a nice little bridge with some benches and trees over this way.”

Warmth spread up her arm from where he clasped her fingers, and when she sat down beside him on the bench, she was sorry that he let go.

“So, how are you doing?” He asked and Lexi shrugged.

“I’m good. I mean…I must admit that I’m a little nervous. I don’t…I don’t know how I’m gonna raise a son. How can I…teach him to shave? Or to pee standing up? And what happens when he hits puberty?” 

Beau chuckled. “Well, puberty’s more than a decade off, so you’ve got some time to study. And the peeing thing just sort of comes naturally.” 

He grinned at her and Lexi laughed. “Well, good.” She was quiet for a minute, scooping up a spoonful of ice cream. She swallowed and cleared her throat before voicing her biggest and only real fear.

“How do I raise him to…not be him? What if I can’t do it?” Her voice was soft. Was she allowed to admit that fear - that she was terrified of raising another Simon? She glanced at Beau, wondering if she’d see judgment there. But she should have known better. 

He just nodded, his gaze sympathetic and understanding. “Babies aren’t born…evil, Lex. They’re just born needing us. You just have to love him, unconditionally, and unendingly.”

Lexi nodded. “I’m just so afraid of doing it wrong.”

Beau smiled at her and moved a bit closer on the bench. “Wanna hear my great secrets of parenthood?”

Lexi sighed. “God, yes.”

With a chuckle, he continued. “Well, I think kids need two things to thrive and be happy.  Boundaries and respect.” He shrugged a broad shoulder. “Kids crave boundaries. They need to know what’s allowed and what’s not. It makes them feel safe. And they also deserve our respect. We should respect their boundaries too, and respect their intelligence by not talking down to them, or ignoring their thoughts and opinions. Even when they're really little, they wanna be heard and they want to know they matter.”

He shrugged again. “Can’t go wrong if you stick with those two pillars.” He smiled softly. “And fill it all in with lots and lots of love.”

Lexi had tears in her eyes and she blinked them away, staring at him, a little bit in awe. She shook her head. “Is that how your parents raised you? Is that how you turned out like this?”

Beau laughed warmly. “Well, they don’t deserve all the blame for how I turned out, but yeah, basically. A big part of who I am now is the foundation I was given. But, you know, they were also parents in the 80s and 90s, so…they weren’t perfect. Gentle parenting was definitely not a thing.”

Lexi laughed with him and then put her hand on his where it rested in his lap. “Well, whatever they did, it worked wonders.” She bit her bottom lip. “I’ve never known a better man than you.”

Beau breathed in deeply through his nose, his chest expanding as Lexi moved closer. His hand twitched beneath hers and she entwined her fingers with his. She looked down at their joined hands and then up at Beau. His eyes caught on her lips again for a moment, and then he turned his head away.

“Lexi,” he started and then seemed to stall.

He caught her gaze again as she shifted even closer, and his eyes were warm with want. 

She lifted her hand to trail her fingers down his jaw, the silky feel of his beard making her sigh. 

“Kiss me?” She asked softly as she looked at his mouth and craved the feel of it on her own.

“Lexi.” He said again, but this time it was full of caution.

She shook her head, her expression questioning. “Do you not want to?”

A rough laugh burst out of him and he put his hand on top of hers where it rested on his cheek. “That’s really not the problem.”

Lexi shrugged. “Then there really is no problem.”

She smiled at him and saw the moment he caved. His face lost its worry and left behind only passion as his mouth descended on hers. Beau’s lips were silky and plump as he brushed them gently against hers. The first touch made her gasp; the second made her moan softly and dart her tongue out to taste his full bottom lip. 

The action made Beau grunt, taking his hand off of hers and pushing it into her hair. He opened his mouth and caught her next moan on his tongue as he slipped it inside. He tangled it up with hers, tasting and teasing her as he sipped at her lips. He moved both hands to her cheeks and tilted her head so he could delve deeper.

She’d never been kissed like this, never felt like this. She was completely consumed in mere moments, completely lost in the way his mouth moved on hers, the way his rough palms felt against her skin. She wanted so much more; the kiss wasn’t slaking her thirst for him, it was increasing it, making her desperate for more.

Finally though, Beau wrenched his mouth from hers with a sucking noise that sounded obscene and made Lexi shiver. His warm breath fanned her cheek as touched his forehead to hers. 

“Oh sweetheart.” He said on an exhale. “We can’t do this.” He corrected himself. “I mean, I can’t do this. It’s wrong.”

Lexi was still breathless. “Is it?” She asked. “Why?”

Beau pulled further back, dropping his hands from her, and shook his head. “You know why. I’d be taking advantage of you.”

“Would you? I thought I was the one who asked for the kiss.”

Beau gave her a look. “Lexi.” He said again, the caution back in his tone, “You’re vulnerable right now, and it’s an asshole move to take advantage of that.”

“Really? Cause I think I’m stronger than I’ve ever been in my life right now.”

“That’s not what I mean…it’s just…” He shook his head again and stood up, putting even more distance between them. “I never should have let this happen. I’m sorry.”

Lexi began to feel embarrassment slipping in and she stood up too, waving her hand dismissively. 

“Hey look, it’s no big deal. We don’t have to make it into more than it was okay?” She patted his forearm. “Let’s just say it was a nice afternoon and leave it at that.” She gave him another smile and she hoped it looked more believable than it felt. 

“Lex I- “ Beau began, but she shook her head and started walking away.

“No, we’re good.”

Despite the distance she’d put between them, she still heard him curse quietly as he followed. She hoped the curse wasn’t directed towards her, and hoped the kiss hadn’t just ruined something beautiful between them.

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