#dammit dammit dammit why did i have to get huge crushes on both of them

[britcision]

REPOST, ignore this if you read chapter 4!

(because this just fucking in besties, copying FROM tumblr online and pasting TO tumblr mobile doubles up the fucking paragraph breaks again, and I’m just deadass not fixing that 3 times)

ENJOY chapter 4, part 1!

Today’s chapter is dedicated to @lehana37

One day, beloveds, one day we WILL get to Sam and Dick… but not today, I was having way too much fun bullying Vlad and Bruce

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

Previous chapter:

First chapter:

———————

Pay Attention To Me Dammit

“Okay,” Danny sucked in a deep breath, surfacing from Jason’s suit to two deeply concerned pairs of blue eyes, “let’s get somewhere private real fast.”

Tucker snickered, helpfully extracting both him and Sam from Jason’s arms.

“I can’t fucking believe you forgot Vlad was coming,” he sighed, voice still shaking as he gave Jason a once over.

Sam, sucking in huge gasps of air, pinched his arm as she straightened.

“Oh shut up, not like you brought him up either,” she wheezed, still grinning.

“Vladdie’s gonna be fucking heartbroken,” Tucker sighed happily, shoving Danny towards a corner.

People were definitely looking. And not just the other four bats; regular guests were watching behind fans, hands, or just deadass staring.

Tim took over, catching Danny’s wrist and pulling the other boy after him. They weren’t that far off the same height.

“So, should I take it that “Vlad” being here is a good thing or a bad thing?” He asked, pulling on his best socialite smile, heading for one of the hall exits instead.

“Back room?” Jason wondered, guiding Sam and Tucker quickly after him. Tim nodded without looking back.

“They shouldn’t be busy yet. We can talk without being overheard,” he added to the other three, who obligingly sped up.

“As for your question, Vlad being here is… probably gonna end up being nothing?” Danny offered, doing his best smiles for the rich assholes they passed.

Sam kicked him in the ankle.

“Wait til we’re alone,” she said quietly, hustling Tucker along.

Unsurprisingly to Jason and Tim, the first back room already had four other people sitting in it, on two extremely plush couches, angled at right angles and facing a fireplace. Before Danny could turn to find another, Steph caught his hand and pulled him in.

“Hi, Stephanie Brown, friend of the Waynes, we’re gonna talk all about Jason’s adorable little crush on you but first, what did you need privacy for?” She asked, eyes bright with innuendo.

Danny grinned right back, already liking this one, and relaxed when Tim and Jason guided the others in and shut the door.

“Well, I guess you all being here means no one has to be found later… and the more eyes the better in this case,” he mused, looking over the other teens and young adult.

Dick waved at Tucker, grinning sarcastically.

“Danny. And Danny,” he added, nodding to Danny himself.

Sam hid a snicker behind her hand.

“That’s what you went with?” She asked Tucker, and he grinned entirely unrepentantly back.

“What, Jason said he told them who I was,” he said in his very best innocent voice.

Before they could get going, Jason raised a hand.

“I’m gonna guess there was a reason you snuck Danny in other than getting back at Sam’s parents? Vlad Masters,” he prodded, dropping to sit on one of the plush royal blue couches next to Cass.

All three Amity Parkers sobered immediately.

“Right… yeah, we should sit for this,” Tucker agreed, glancing around the room. Seating for nine was going to be tight, but… well, he may no longer be a teenager, but he was still seating-flexible.

Introductions were made as people juggled themselves around, finally ending with Cass, Jason, and Danny on one sofa, Sam, Steph, and Damian on the other, and Dick and Tim perching on windowsill or sofa arm respectively. Tucker took the floor.

Once movement stilled, Danny exchanged glances with Sam and Tucker. Maybe hoping that for once, he wouldn’t be doing the explaining?

He shoulda known better.

Sighing, he ran a hand through his hair and didn’t lean intentionally into Jason’s side. It was good to have another halfa around, that was all.

“Sooooo… cliff’s notes? Vlad Masters is a shady billionaire who uses some seriously unethical shit to make predatory deals with other rich folks to steal their fortune. We think he’s here to cement that flashy “b”, byyyy stealing your dad’s fortune,” he explained quickly, glancing around at the Waynes and adjacents he could see.

They did not look convinced.

Tim frowned, leaning forward on his knee and steepling his fingers.

“If you have proof of that, shouldn’t someone already be looking into him?” He asked contemplatively, eyes fixed on Danny’s face.

It was. Weirdly intense.

Fighting down discomfort, Danny shrugged.

“So remember when I said deeply unethical? Think like, mind control. He’s hard to investigate.”

“You make him sound like a supervillain,” Dick noted from the windowsill.

Sam raised a pointed eyebrow at him.

“Duh, we said “billionaire”.”

“Hey,” Tim protested, leaning around Steph to frown at her, “I’m a billionaire.”

She stared him dead in the eye while Steph snickered.

“I said what I said.”

“And you’re a millionaire,” he shot back sharply, eyes narrowing.

Sam didn’t blink.

“I work at a plant nursery my parents don’t approve of and pay my own tuition. My family are millionaires; I’m not,” she said plainly.

Tim puffed up his cheeks, but let them deflate silently. Jason definitely wasn’t smirking.

Cass leaned forwards suddenly, eyes darting around the room searchingly before settling on Sam.

“Masters. Your connection?” She asked softly, the others stilling to hear her.

Both of Sam’s brows rose, but she didn’t comment at hearing the other girl’s voice for the first time. She looked to Danny instead, raising an eyebrow.

Danny blew out a huff of air, ruffling his bangs.

“So… we… well…”

“He wants to fuck Danny’s mom and adopt Danny,” Tucker said bluntly, tipping his head back to hit Danny’s knees and grinning up at him.

Danny poked him in the forehead, but didn’t refute it.

“Yeah. So he’s kinda been my problem for a while. And he’s the mayor of Amity Park now? Is he still?” He asked, looking from one to the other.

Sam shrugged.

“Think so. I haven’t heard about anyone new.”

The Waynes and co were all kind of just… staring at them. Danny gave them jazz hands.

“And now he’s heeeeeere. He probably won’t make any moves if he knows I’m around, but we should keep an eye on him around Mr Wayne anyway.”

“And we can add him to the fuckery list, along with Sam’s parents,” Tucker added with a very satisfied smile.

It drew all eyes his way, ranging from intrigued to sceptical.

“How?” Steph asked, eyes bright.

Tucker waved a hand over the room.

“Black hair. Blue eyes. For one thing, Mr Drake-Wayne is even the same height, so if he sees you from behind, he could be confused. Dick’s not far off either. And best of all,” he added while the others did quick visual comparisons, decidedly smug, “we hint that Bruce is thinking of accepting Danny as an intern. Step one of Wayne Adoption.”

Sam’s eyes lit up with evil glee.

“Oh he’d do his fucking nut if you cozied up to someone richer than him, Danny,” she gasped, hands bouncing on her lap.

Danny hesitated for a moment, glancing over at Jason. Who was looking back, gears clearly turning. Seeing that he had Danny’s eye, he leaned in quickly.

“Vlad Masters would be Vlad Plasmius, yes?” He asked in a low voice. He’d scanned the database more than read in detail, but he knew the basics.

One very important basic.

Vlad was the other halfa.

And Vlad could sense other halfas. For a hot second Danny very nearly took off out of the room, ready to go find and kick Vlad’s ass and keep him far, far away from Jason.

He didn’t realise he’d clenched his fists until one of them was held in a large, hot hand. Slowly, shakily he uncurled them, checking for blood in the deep half moon crevices now dug in his palms.

Nothing. He was fine.

“Danny?” Jason asked softly, and Danny looked up to his face. There was something in his eyes, something familiar in the way they flashed a deep, sudden green when their eyes met.

Yeah, Jason’s Obsession was fucking definitely Protection, at least in part. Danny clasped his hand quickly, half worried Jason was gonna do just what he’d had to try so hard not to.

Would it have been that bad if Jason was just his friend, not his knight?

There was no way to know anymore.

Covering Jason’s hands in both of his, he gave Jason the best smile he could.

“I’m fine. But yeah, that’s him. And we… should probably also have a private word.” Because there was this sudden, very nasty little temptation curling through him.

“Would this private word have anything to do with Jason almost going full feral?” Dick asked with a studied innocence that had at least a master’s degree.

Which was when Danny noticed that the rest were all staring at them. At their clasped hands. At Jason’s still a little too green eyes.

**

Jason grimaced, fully aware of what they must have seen. He tamped the green down firmly, pushing against the wave of protect-protect-PROTECT the pit was damn near screaming inside him.

Wasn’t entirely sure it was only the pit.

Watching Danny tense up like that, clearly in the throes of fight or flight, pulled at something primal inside him.

Jason didn’t know who Vlad Masters was, what he looked like, what he was doing, but he was fully willing to throw him out of the building by the neck if Danny would relax even a little.

He threatens my king, something growled in the back of his mind and Jason’s hands jerked.

That was fucking new. And not fucking welcome.

He looked to Dick instead, giving him a strained smile. It was the best he could do right now.

“Yeah,” he admitted, not fully comfortable with how strained his voice sounded. How tight his throat felt.

Had the pit tried to use his mouth? Make him speak?

Just the thought made him want to puke, but he pushed that down too. He had shit to do today, and the pit wasn’t gonna ruin it.

“I told you he was helping me with the pit,” he added when Dick still looked calculatedly calm. Definitely not about to tackle him to the ground if he moved too suddenly.

Fuck Jason hoped Dick never tried. When they fought for fun, for training, sure Dick could hand him his ass six ways from Sunday. But when the green took over…

He didn’t want to hurt his brother. None of his brothers, ever again.

Except maybe a little bit psychologically.

“Fenton’s eyes changed too,” Damian said sharply, and oooh absolutely nothing in Jason liked that accusatory tone.

Not about Danny. Not about his king.

His head snapped around to glare at the youngest and knew his eyes had gone green again from the way the others recoiled. All but Sam and Danny. And Damian, suicidal little gremlin.

All but Cass, who slipped herself carefully but immovably back into his lap, hooking her feet into the backs of his knees and hands on his cheeks. Pinning him in place.

Making him look at her, not Damian.

She studied his expression intensely, her eyes saying more than even Dick could manage.

And there was a hand in his again, gently soothing across his fingers until his knuckles opened, and Cass let him look away to Danny. Doing just what Jason had done less than a minute ago.

Danny didn’t have to tell his secrets to anyone he didn’t want to. Not now, not the first time they met, not before he trusted them.

Anger-protect-not their business

And Danny smiled back, all gentle and soft, and Jason settled back, relaxing muscles he hadn’t noticed tensing.

Reassurance-calm-safe safe safe-trust

If Jason trusted them, Danny would too. And if that didn’t sting something right in his chest.

Danny cleared his throat, turning back to the rest of the room and giving them a slightly tighter smile.

“Yeah. I. Uh… I was exposed to the Lazarus pits? About a year before Jason was. So I know what it’s like when it gets too strong.”

Half truths at best, but close enough to be believed. To make sense.

Close enough that no one except Damian, tactless boy wonder, would ever ask.

“Only the dying can survive exposure to the pits,” the boy snapped, eyes sharp as he studied Danny in a new light.

Jason’s hands nearly clenched again, but this time Danny’s was in the way. Protecting Danny meant not crushing Danny’s hand.

Good loophole.

“The dying and the dead,” Danny agreed placidly, calm just barely tinted by amusement.

Jason closed his eyes, let himself focus on breathing in Danny’s aura.

Was that a hint of trouble-fun-plans plans mayhem?

Damian squinted at Danny for another long moment, then nodded sharply and sat back. Steph punched him.

“Damian, you can’t just go asking people if they’ve died,” she hissed in a comically loud whisper.

“It was relevant to the conversation!” Damian insisted, immediately sitting back up to defend his honour. Steph tweaked his nose and he properly growled, gearing up to tackle her.

“It was rude, Dami,” Dick coaxed gently, coming from the windowsill to the couch to scoop Damian into his arms.

The only one of them who could have done it and survived. Damian glowered up at him too, then folded his arms and scowled at the floor.

Dire retributions would surely be incoming.

“Hey, it’s cool,” Danny caused, grinning along with the others now that the tension had broken. “He just wanted to know I’m not gonna hurt Jason, right?”

All eyes turned back to Damian, who squinted suspiciously at Danny again. Jason was ready for the flare of protectiveness this time.

Danny was fine. He could handle the demon brat, even if Dick didn’t have him in hand already.

Jason didn’t want to hurt his brother.

Which caused a different, confusing flare of protectiveness because what he needed to protect Damian from was himself, and the self same flares.

He stifled a chuckle that would probably only make things worse.

Finally Damian huffed, turning away into Dick’s arms.

“Tt. Ridiculous. I only wished to be sure you spoke the truth,” he snapped, and the room resettled.

Danny raised both hands, grinning, and Cass shuffled to rest her ear over Jason’s heart.

“Okay?” She asked softly, moving her feet from his pressure points. Jason brought his other arm up and around her, squeezing gently.

“Yeah, I’m good. Thanks,” he replied just as quietly, resting his cheek in her hair.

“Well, this does also kinda simplify things,” Danny added with a chuckle, leaning back against the couch. “I can just tell all of you; Vlad’s also been ecto…. Pit contaminated. And we can sense each other, so he’s going to know Jason is too.”

That geared the bats back up, all turning back to stare at Danny. Who grinned utterly wickedly.

“So Vladdie gets to be on the rare and extremely valued double fuckery list.”

“Is he gonna try and do anything to Jason?” Steph asked sharply, posture tensing towards the door like it might open at any second.

Tucker shrugged, moving back to lean against the couch next to Danny’s legs. He’d wisely made himself scarce when there was a chance either halfa would make a break for it.

“Like Danny said, Vlad probably won’t try anything if he knows we’re around? He can’t do his mind control on Danny so he’s gotta keep it in his pants, even if he’d rather not.”

Sam brightened, catching on to where the boys were going.

“But because Vlad is like… Obsessed with Danny for being like him, there’s a chance he’ll wanna try and adopt Jason too,” she said slowly, her smile becoming full and wicked.

“And since we’re already planning to have me and Jason caught in some indelicate way to upset the Mansons,” Danny added, utterly self satisfied, “we can fry his brain thinking he can only adopt one of us.”

“And that’s after we make him play Find The Real Danny,” Tucker jumped in, grinning broadly, “because it’s not specific enough to track a single person in a busy room. Do you guys do accents?”

Tim and Dick exchanged glances and shrugged.

“Yours wouldn’t be hard,” Tim pointed out, a smirk pulling across his own face as he nodded to Danny.

“I’d like to know why we’re also fucking with the Mansons though?” Dick asked, raising an eyebrow at Sam. Who shrugged.

“They refused to let me bring my girlfriend as a plus one. So we’re gonna ruin me for men and make them think twice next time.”

“Wait, so you’re not dating Danny?” Steph asked, proving she had been hovering during their little meet and greet.

None of the Amity Parkers seemed surprised. Not by her listening in, anyway.

Danny flushed cherry red, Tucker burst out laughing, and Sam smirked.

“Not since high school,” she said casually. Danny groped around for a throwable pillow but came up short.

For some reason, Jason felt absolutely no need to protect his king from some righteous bullying. Another fun loophole.

Must be the lack of potential stabbing.

Dick grinned suddenly, now leaning on the other arm of the couch from Tim.

“Okay, but we definitely don’t tell this part to Bruce,” he said eagerly, beckoning all the others closer. “If Jason’s job is to flirt with Sam and defile Danny, we were also here to meet Danny as Jason’s boyfriend.”

“Let Bruce think Danny’s leading you both on!” Steph finished, clapping her hands and cackling. “Oh it’s perfect!”

Sam cackled along with her, turning a much warmer smile on the other girl.

“Oh, my parents would love to trash talk Danny to him too, they’ve probably already hurried off to let him know I’m “eligible”,” she agreed with the most sarcastic air quotes Jason had ever seen.

Steph lurched immediately to her feet.

“We’re gonna miss it! Okay, so our first task is to make sure Vlad knows Danny is here, right? So he knows not to try anything on Bruce,” she added to confirm, looking between the Amity Parkers.

Danny frowned thoughtfully, touching his lower lip. Jason tried not to focus on it.

“He should know as soon as we get within proximity of each other… so probably once we’re both in the big room?”

Steph nodded sharply, turning to point to Tim.

“We need to know what he looks like. Can you get us a picture?”

Tim nodded, already tapping at his phone and rising along with Steph, the fire of planning in his eyes.

“On it. Sam and Jason need to be seen to be flirting, but Danny doesn’t have to be with them. Dick and I can wander through the crowd, keeping an eye out for Masters but keeping our faces turned away. Cass, can you help with that?”

Cass gave a thumbs up, sitting straighter and resting her head on Jason’s shoulder instead.

“Yes. Can be Dick’s eyes, signal you both.”

Tim typed a moment longer, then lowered his phone and wheeled, turning to point to Damian.

“And you should all have the photo… now. Damian, if you can get as close to Masters as you can, you can signal us too if he gets too close to Bruce or us.”

Damian nodded and glanced down at his phone, all ruffled feathers smoothing as he tucked it away and straightened his suit.

“I shall watch him for any suspicious moves. I can also run interference if he approaches Father.”

Steph nodded happily and clapped her hands, pointing both at Tucker.

“And you can join me in spying on the Mansons and recording them if they talk to Bruce, for the rest of us to enjoy later!” She declared triumphantly.

Tucker shot to his feet, grinning broadly.

“Yeah! And if they catch us we can tell them Jason and Sam are doing something, or ask if they’ve seen Danny,” he agreed, bouncing on his toes. He stuck a hand out in front of him. “Ready?”

Steph slapped her palm down on the back of his hand.

“Ready!”

The room now filled with purpose, everyone came to join Tucker, sticking their hands in in a circle, even as Damian complained about “ridiculous social rituals”.

No one else seemed to mind, tossing their hands into the air as they all whispered “BREAK!”, not wanting to be heard from the hallway.

As the room emptied, Danny hung back, catching Jason’s eye.

“So I know you’re probably not ready to talk about this,” he said softly as Sam lingered in the doorway, her back conspicuously to them, “but I just need to ask you if there was electricity involved when you died.”

Jason felt his whole body tense, less than pleasant memories rushing to the fore. Broken bones. A blade in his leg. Explosion.

No electricity.

He could see the strain on Danny’s face as his mind cleared, and shook his head.

“No. Why?” He asked warily, suddenly very concerned.

Danny made a face that did precisely nothing to lessen it, looking away.

“Because there was when I died, and Vlad knows it. And he… he can control electricity. But you’ll be fine, well, other than the usual “oh no a bad guy is shooting me with electricity”, right?”

Danny was babbling now, clearly trying to distract himself, but all Jason could see was pure, pulsing green. Before he knew he’d moved he had an arm wrapped firmly around slender shoulders, crushing Danny to his chest.

He didn’t need to be told that reminders of a ghost’s death wounds could be debilitating. He’d have known without the database. Without the catch in Danny’s voice.

“If he ever lays a fucking finger on you again I’ll fucking kill him,” he growled, his voice coming out almost as low as his helmet modulator.

Danny stiffened for just a moment in his grasp, then relaxed against him.

“I mean, I can handle myself,” he protested weakly, voice somewhat muffled in Jason’s jacket, “but I’m not gonna fight you on that one, Jay.”

It soothed something inside him, something hot in the center of his chest that burned at just the thought of anyone hurting the man in his arms.

Attacking him. Using the pain and trauma of his death against him. Attacking his king.

A gentle hand soothed up and down his spine.

Safe-protected-I’m okay-safe

It took a minute before Jason could bring himself to let go, smiling sheepishly down at Danny.

“Sorry. Guess I’m… uh, not used to dealing with anything other than rage from the pit,” he explained weakly.

It felt stupid, comparing something as soft as the urge to protect to those bloodthirsty rampages. That didn’t make it any less true.

Danny shrugged, rolling out his shoulders and grinning up at him.

“Hey, like I said. Shoulda seen me when I first changed. Anyway, shall we go make Vlad’s night a living hell?” He asked wickedly, a cheeky smile on his face.

Jason nodded and made for the door, giving Sam a small smile of appreciation. She looked between the two of them and snickered.

“Yeah, rumpling you both up in a closet’s gonna be easy breezy,” she said lazily, pushing the door open again. “You should trade ties.”

Danny’s hand flew to his throat and he chuckled softly, then shook both of his hands out.

“Okay… time to go make sure Vladdie knows I’m around,” he sighed, cracking his neck. Like he was limbering up for a fight?

Jason cocked a brow, taking Sam’s arm.

“What are you gonna do?” He asked as they moved out into the hall, back towards the ballroom.

Danny shot him a quick grin.

“Expand my aura to cover the whole room. He’ll know I’m flexing, and he won’t be able to miss it. Should help confuse him about Tim and Dick too, since the whole place is gonna feel like me,” he added, and Jason grinned.

Alright, that was gonna be a useful trick. Time to see that famous Ghost King aura put to the test.

He wasn’t really expecting to feel a change really. He was close enough that Danny’s aura was still brushing gently over his, soothing the pit that he was right there.

Ready and close if Jason needed to protect him.

And then Danny’s brows furrowed for a moment, he flexed his shoulders back, and Jason was surrounded in pulsing waves of DANNY-DANNY-DANNY.

He didn’t know he’d stumbled until Sam caught him, her hand small on his chest right over the thudding pulse of his heart.

He barely felt her touch. All he could see, all he could hear, all he could feel was the raw power surging out of the man beside him.

Feeling Frostbite in the Far Frozen had been overwhelming. This… this rewrote the beat of his heart, crawled with his breath into his lungs, curled around every deep and intimate part of himself.

It made him feel tiny and delicate, swept up and held off his feet by Danny’s sheer presence. Crowded and pushed up against the wall, held in place, and Danny wasn’t even fucking trying.

Everything was right in the world. His King was here. The pit fucking sang in his veins.

Aaaand Jason hadn’t been this hard in dress pants since he’d been an excitable teenager who couldn’t help it. Eyes closing, he swayed back against the hallway wall.

He could just barely feel Sam’s hand still on his chest, a grounding point as he sucked in deep breaths. Heard her snicker as the ringing in his ears began to die down.

“You’re getting better at that, Danny,” she noted, and Jason hissed.

This could have been worse? More? How?

And then Danny’s hand was at his shoulder too and he didn’t need to open his eyes to know it. Knew the touch, the feel, the way the pit surged warmth to the spot.

Heard Danny’s soft voice as though it were being broadcast straight into his head.

“Hey, you okay?” He asked quietly, and Jason honestly wasn’t sure.

Think about Bruce’s old underwear commercials. Jane Austen novels. Alfred’s expression if Jason ruined his good pants this fucking early into a party.

Later, maybe, it’d give a flare of authenticity but Danny almost certainly wouldn’t be down.

Danny. There was someone here who wanted to hurt Danny.

Jason’s eyes snapped open and he sucked in another deep breath. It was still redolent of Danny’s aura, still cupping him on every side, but he had a purpose now. A job to do.

He managed a slightly strained smile.

“‘M fine. It’s just a shock.” He cleared his throat, reaching down to tug at the front of his trousers as subtly as he could. “Is, uh… is it always like that?”

Danny looked confused for a moment, still concerned, but it was easier to miss the pulsing beat of his emotions now. Easier to focus.

He’d protect Danny’s feelings too, but he couldn’t do that if he was overwhelmed.

Who knew he’d be this into feeling like he was drowning in someone?

Finally Danny shrugged, glancing out towards the ballroom.

“I wouldn’t know… it doesn’t feel all that different to me. Just like everyone in the room is now inside my personal space,” he added, pulling a face.

Jason stared at him for a long moment, wondering how the hell he was going to ask. If he even wanted to mention the effects it had had - was still having, cleaning guns, Alfred in lace, Vlad was still here.

Nope.

Just. Nope. Not opening that can of worms today.

If Danny didn’t know that just feeling him all around him like that was gonna send Jason to horny jail, Jason was just never gonna tell him. And if Vlad had an even similar reaction, Jason would double kick his ass.

Hauling himself away from the wall, Jason cleared his throat again and fixed his jacket.

“Alright… I’m good. Shall we?” He asked Sam, offering her his arm this time. She gave him a quick up and down, raised a brow, but didn’t comment.

“Sure you are,” she chuckled softly, taking his arm with a reluctant half smile, turning back to Danny. “Are you gonna stick close, or do you wanna recon Vlad?”

Danny considered it for a moment, moving with them as they returned to the hall. Then he shrugged.

“I might go take a peek, but if I see your parents I’ll third wheel back on over. You guys should go mosey,” he added, waving a hand quickly.

Jason nodded, tucking Sam closer, turned back to the room, and… froze. Sam, utterly unaffected, made it a couple steps forward before she noticed and turned back, frowning.

“Hey, what’s up?” She asked in a low whisper, eyes flicking around them.

Good fucking question.

Jason closed his eyes, sucking in a slow breath and trying to work out what had shot down his spine like cold water. Brows furrowed, he tried to will his feet to move.

Took a step backwards and opened his eyes again, frowning back at Sam.

“Alright, I didn’t mean to do that,” he hissed, head turning automatically… to where Danny had taken a couple of steps away.

Green surged below his skin, asking what the fuck he thought he was doing. Abandoning his post. Leaving his king.

There was someone here who’d hurt him, who’d used his fucking death against him, and Jason was gonna what? Not be close enough to break his fingers for thinking it?

Eyes closed for a moment, Jason weighed the odds he could just push this down and keep going. Felt Sam tuck closer. They did have a whole ass plan…

Felt a sudden wash of concern-what’s wrong-protect from the surrounding warmth of Danny.

And sighed, shaking his head, pulling Sam with him after Danny. With each step the green sung, a deep satisfaction not his own rising inside.

He gave Danny a sheepish smile and a shrug.

“I don’t think I can leave you alone. Not if he’s here,” he added a little more quietly, well aware they were being watched once again.

Confusion flashed across Danny’s face for a moment, then he groaned and slapped himself in the forehead.

“Fucking Clockwork… alright, we stick together. Tim and Dick will have plenty of fun with Vlad anyway,” he said, grin slowly spreading again as he tucked himself in to Sam’s other side.

“And we can have more fun with my parents,” Sam pointed out innocently, scanning the crowd around them. Shot them both a sidelong glance each, half smirking. “And I get two lots of cute arm candy.”

Danny and Jason turned automatically to look each other over, Jason’s grin broadening as Danny’s cheeks flushed.

Dick had said he looked a treat in this suit. Must have been right about something.

Suddenly Danny’s aura was all very studious and concentrated nothing to see here.

Jason bit the inside of his lip to keep from laughing, letting his eyes trail a little slower over his king’s frame.

Wherever Danny had gotten his suit from, they knew a thing or two about tailoring. It fit him well, emphasising the lean lines of his legs and torso. Didn’t quite square off his shoulders.

Jason still hadn’t had much practice with projecting his own emotions back, but he had the feeling his… appreciation got through when Danny’s blush darkened.

Grinning down at Sam, Jason patted her hand.

“Only if my code name’s Gummy Bear.”

A startled laugh from Danny was the reaction he’d been going for. Sam’s sudden, utterly wicked smile was a lot more concerning.

“Alright. Danny’s is gonna be Jawbreaker,” she decided, her gaze darting briefly down to Jason’s lips as she smirked.

Jason looked away quickly, his own cheeks uncomfortably warm as Danny choked.

***

Vlad Masters smiled to himself as he moved through the crowd, a shark among minnows. Their vacuous chatter was a soothing background noise; practically already the emptying of their pocket books.

Oh, he didn’t like to come to Gotham, not with that Bat that flapped around. The Bat didn’t like metas, or people who could do just a little more than curl up and die.

But, well, this had been an opportunity just too sweet to pass up.

He could dip his toes in Daniel’s new haunt, remind the boy that he’d never be too far away if he needed him. He could get a look at this son of Bruce Wayne’s, that had died and come back.

And just maybe he’d get a claw into Wayne Enterprises, and get a look at some of their latest technology for his own… uses.

Yes, Vlad was feeling productive just being here, even if he did have to keep his ghostly abilities on lock.

He drifted through the crowd, joining conversations, sniffing out weaknesses, moving on. Oh, some of these wealthy types thought they were hunters too, he could see it in their eyes.

He’d made his fortune by taking from those types of men and letting them see what true power looked like. It was much more satisfying to break a man who thought he was unbreakable.

Bruce Wayne wasn’t one of that type, but he had something that Vlad wanted. Still, the man seemed vacuous enough, all laughing and drink and flirting.

He’d handed control of his company to his teenaged son (and oh Vlad was a little jealous of him for thinking of that move… if only Daniel was more… pliable).

But Vlad could see himself letting Brucie keep at least some of his assets. The man was entertaining, and it’d show Daniel he’d listened.

He could change. In ways that weren’t too… inconvenient for him.

And then he’d have a shield in Gotham, and Wayne could deal with that meddlesome Bat, and he could pay Daniel a visit.

He’d just caught sight of his true quarry, standing in a small circle of fawning admirers when the felt the Presence flood the room.

It sent a shiver up his spine and he locked his knees, refusing to let any weakness show as the air filled with the heavy static of Daniel.

So the boy was here? Interesting. He’d have a chance to see his Little Badger even before he left the party.

He had seen the Mansons on the guest list and he had to wonder if the lad had finally gotten closer to his little goth friend. Close enough to be a plus one?

The elder Mansons would surely hate that, and make that hatred known. Unless Vlad were to… step in. Save the boy from their judgemental stares.

Remind them that Daniel may not be from a wealthy family, but he was still connected to the Masters name.

Yes, this was wonderfully good news and Vlad felt almost chipper, a spring in his step as he advanced on Wayne. Oh, the boy was flaring off, showing Vlad he had some power too, but Vlad wasn’t here to fight.

All he needed was to set up one simple meeting between himself and Wayne, and then all of tonight could be for his Little Badger. Imagine, Vlad Masters having the chance to play the hero.

He was most definitely looking forward to it. And ah yes, here they were, the Mansons already at Bruce Wayne’s elbow, chattering away.

Everything really was coming up Vlad.

**

Bruce had met the Mansons before of course, at other charity events across the country. They were… well, pretty much exactly the type of nouveau riche he kept his children away from at all costs.

Never impolitely, of course. Never letting on how their false smiles and honeyed lies made his gut squirm in distaste. He was always cordial, and could safely rely on the effect his smile had on both of the couple.

But they weren’t what you’d call close, even in gala circles, so it was something of a surprise when they sought him out.

“Ah, Brucie! There you are, good to see you,” the husband, Jeremy, called jovially as they approached, clapping him on the back.

Bruce gave them one of his better Brucie smiles, returning the gesture with a calculated firmness.

“Jeremy! Wonderful to see you,” he greeted them both exuberantly, eyes discretely scanning both to try and work out what they wanted. They always wanted something.

The wife, Pamela his mental rolodex said, simpered up at him, clutching at her husband’s arm.

“Of course we were simply delighted to hear that your son was found, we couldn’t possibly miss the party!” She gushed, letting her hand flutter over his. “You know, our Samantha is about the same age.”

Ah.

Well, that was a first. For Jason, anyway; Tim and Damian both had plenty of parents hopefully thrusting their children his way. Even Dick was subject to occasional propositions.

Jason had barely been his long enough to be considered eligible when he’d… well.

Bruce would mention it to Dick later, so his eldest could tease Jason about this latest milestone. Best not broach the subject himself.

He cranked the wattage on his smile down a little, looking carefully behind the couple.

“Yes, I believe I’ve met Samantha before,” he said genially, mind scanning through his gala notes.

Samantha Manson. Usually seen in elaborate pink and frilly gowns, always seen utterly despising them. Quiet, rebellious eyes.

At least Jason might find someone tolerable to talk to.

“Is she here tonight?” He finished, like he hadn’t personally memorised the guest list.

Pamela and Jeremy Manson. Samantha Manson. And plus one.

Plus one? Clearly someone the parents found less agreeable than Jason, and Bruce couldn’t help feeling sorry for the poor kid.

Jeremy was already nodding cheerfully, a sparkle in those eyes that put Bruce on edge.

“Oh yes, she’s off talking to your boy right now in fact,” he said with a very self satisfied chuckle, shooting Bruce a knowing look. “I think they quite hit it off.”

“Poor Jason was just telling us how few friends he has his own age, and of course Samantha would much prefer his company than being stuck with her parents,” Pamela trilled, giving Bruce a knowing look of her own, about three shades smuttier than her husband’s.

He could very, very easily believe that, even with as little time as he’d spent with the elder Mansons. Still, best not let them get their hopes up.

“How lovely! I’m sure Jason will keep her well entertained, he has his own plus one for the evening and he does thrive with an audience.”

He’d been expecting them to dim a little at the mention of a plus one, and if not maybe to delicately hint that the current partner was male.

Bruce might not personally know how serious Jason was in this new relationship, but he’d have his son’s back against any of the gala harpies.

He was not expecting them both to beam even brighter.

“Why, that’s the best thing!” Pamela beamed, clapping her hands. “His plus one, Tucker Foley, is Samantha’s very best friend! They’ve been close since high school, very close,” she added proudly, like she’d curated the friendship herself.

Bruce was beginning to think he’d have to mention he knew Samantha also had a plus one when Jeremy nodded happily.

“And of course Samantha brought along her other friend, Daniel from home too, so we were quite concerned the boys might run off together and leave our little girl on her lonesome, but your Jason really took a shine to her!”

Something sharpened in Bruce’s spine, catching at his attention.

“Daniel?” He asked, innocently as he could, and spotted Steph and a young Black man heading their way. Certainly she’d hang back to get more information. “Would I know him?”

Pamela’s face scrunched for a moment before smoothing back into a perfect, empty smile.

“Oh, I very much doubt it. The boy is from a rather disreputable family I’m afraid, very bad influences, but our Samantha has never shied from offering her hand in friendship.”

Bruce took a moment to compare this sentence to the young woman he remembered, barely covering seething resentment under a very similar empty smile.

Friendship. Yes, he could see her offering that to literally anyone her parents disapproved of.

But if this was the same “Danny” Jason was getting involved with, it was his fatherly duty to learn what he could.

He schooled his face to his best politely interested morbid fascination.

“Oh? Please tell me more.”

**

Steph and Tucker sped up as they caught sight of Bruce, Steph leaning in to whisper,

“Are those the Mansons talking to him?”

Tucker nodded, slipping around to the other side of her for partial cover.

“Yeah, that’s them… wonder what they’re saying, he looks so concerned,” he whispered back, and Steph snickered.

“That’s his “your problems are so fascinating tell me everything” face,” she explained quietly, turning to plant her back to the nearest small table.

This one held a small crystal sculpture that was probably supposed to symbolize something, but she wasn’t gonna look twice. Instead she slipped her phone out of a discrete pocket and hit record.

Tucker took a moment to admire the new tech, leaning around her with an intrigued smile.

“Oh, is that the new WayneTech phone? Can I see?” He asked, brightening up.

Steph grinned and shook her head, carefully angling it to point at Bruce and the Mansons without making it look intentional.

“Not the newest release, but the one before. Tim lost a bet so he had to give me some free upgrades,” she added when Tucker looked confused.

“But aren’t you one of the Waynes? Why would you be a release behind?” He sounded honestly dumbfounded and Steph hid a snicker.

He sounded like Tim every time she turned down one of Bruce’s toys.

“I’m really just a family friend, and I don’t wanna have to get a whole new phone every time Tim or his nerd team has a new idea. You can look later, I wanna catch what they’re saying,” she hissed and he reluctantly quieted, still looking at her like she was crazy.

Yeah.

Tim 2.0. She was gonna have to text Connor later.

Tuck pulled his PDA out and she half expected him to start recording too, but instead he pulled up a handy decoy screen so he could pretend to be showing her something.

And…

Tapped into the video currently being recorded on her phone. She raised a brow and he grinned back, tapping a few buttons and boosting the volume.

“There are some advantages to upgrading your tech,” he said smugly and pulled out a pair of earbuds, offering her one.

They pulled them out about five minutes later.

Steph clapped her hand over her mouth, fighting down giggles as she dropped the earbud into Tucker’s hand.

“Holy fucking shit to people still actually talk like that?” She hissed between her teeth. Tucker, also fighting laughter, stuffed the headphones back into a pocket.

“Yeah, honestly? My mom loves Saturday morning soaps and even she’d call that overplayed,” he snickered, shaking her head.

“You’d think Danny ate their fucking cat, what the hell happened there?” Steph asked, lips pressing tightly shut on another laugh as she made awkward eye contact with some passing guests.

“Honestly? Nothing, they just don’t like his parents, and that makes Danny a “hoodlum”,” Tucker rolled his eyes and grinned, flipping his PDA to a different channel, and then suddenly flipping back. “Aaaaand shit, that’s Vlad. This is gonna be good.”

Steph pulled the PDA quickly from his hands as he lunged back into a pocket.

“Quick, get them back, there is no way I’m missing this!”

**

Vlad couldn’t say he was honestly surprised to walk in on the Mansons telling some outlandish story that was almost all sly innuendo. It was why Pamela came to these parties after all.

What was surprising was the way Wayne’s face grew more and more serious as she spoke, painting a picture of Daniel as some kind of delinquent thug.

Which, to be fair, wasn’t an entirely inaccurate picture of the boy on his worse days, but hardly represented his best.

And if he reached into just a hint of ghostly stealth to come up behind her, well, watching Pamela Manson startle as he cut in with a well placed greeting was more than worth it.

“My, that does sound like a fascinating story Pamela! And you say this was young Daniel?” He asked, watching with satisfaction as both Mansons spun to stare.

“Brucie” gave him a sharp, almost assessing look too, much more thoughtful than he usually bothered with. Interesting.

Pamela brightened when she recognized him, beckoning him in.

“Oh, yes! Vlad, do join us, I was just telling Brucie here about some of those silly ghost adventures Daniel would pull Samantha into in high school!” She clearly expected him to join in.

Ah, but today Vlad’s role was to be Daniel’s hero, not Phantom’s nemesis. And maybe to see just what had managed to rub two brain cells together in Wayne’s famously amicable head.

He gave her a fond smile, nodding in greeting to the men and taking his place in their circle.

“Why, Pamela, I do hope you’re not disparaging my godson before Mr Wayne even has a chance to say hello?” It was a calculated guess, but honestly.

However Daniel got into this party (and he would put money on his dear goth friend Sam herself), he wouldn’t be introduced to the man holding the purse strings.

From the corner of his eye he also caught a very familiar red beret, and his brow quirked slightly.

Daniel, Sam, and Tucker Foley, all in one place. They must have heard he’d be coming.

How… adorable.

His smile spread as Pamela’s faded, even as Brucie turned to offer him a hand and a warm smile.

“Mr Masters, yes? I believe we’ve met at a few of these before,” the man said, all charm and sunshine.

Vlad shook the offered hand firmly, resisting the urge to just poke directly into his mind.

Tucker was listening. Best give him something interesting to report.

“Yes, I wasn’t aware you knew the Mansons too? One of our finest families in Amity Park,” he purred, giving them both an almost predatory smile.

Jeremy puffed up under it like it was actual praise, but Pamela was still watching him curiously.

“Oh yes, we’re going to be quite close,” she said airily, giving Brucie a secretive smile.

The man didn’t quite return it, the same friendly, open smile not changing in the slightest.

More interesting still.

“And perhaps you and I will be getting closer too, Vlad. Can I call you Vlad?” He asked, and Vlad’s smile widened.

“Of course. Is there something I should know?” He asked, half teasing.

Brucie’s expression flickered almost too fast to see. Something like actual thought under that big soft smile.

“It seems that my son Jason has been spending time with young Samantha and Daniel,” he explained, still sounding just the same cheery fool.

Vlad’s smile widened further, and he took a moment to reign himself in. It wouldn’t do for him to stretch too far. It could make people nervous.

“Oh, how wonderful!” He exclaimed happily, rubbing his hands together. “I was hoping to congratulate him personally on his return, it is quite a rare feat!”

And if Daniel was sniffing around him, that added credence to the rumours that the boy really had died. And possibly changed.

Now, if he could just speak to the young Jason alone, see how easily he could be swayed… if the boys were already friends, perhaps he could even plead Vlad’s case to Daniel directly.

Brucie gave him a dazzling smile, gesturing to Pamela jovially.

“Well, I certainly hope so! From Mrs Manson’s stories I was beginning to worry that Jason might be falling into some rough company.”

Vlad gave the woman a smile that would have chilled if he’d had Daniel’s ice core, but instead crackled with his own electricity.

“Oh, young Daniel may be a bit rough around the edges, but there’s no more loyal boy anywhere in the country,” he assured Wayne smoothly, and noted Tucker and the blonde girl he was with breaking away.

Off to report to Daniel, then. Good.

“Really, you can judge best when you meet him yourself,” Vlad all but purred, watching them go, “after all, you yourself know all about taking young men from rough circumstances and polishing them to a shine.”

Brucie’s smile was all proud paternal joy as he looked out across the room, and for a moment Vlad wondered how many of his interminable brood had actually come.

A young man was very suddenly at Brucie’s side and even the man himself seemed to startle, but his smile only grew as he clapped the boy on the shoulder.

“And here’s one of them now! Mr and Mrs Manson, Vlad, this is my youngest son Damian.”

The boy certainly had Bruce’s jawline, and the same wide eyes the press so loved, even if the eyes themselves were green. Any other similarities would be hard to spot as the boy fixed Vlad with a glare that could have been Daniel’s.

“Good evening,” he said curtly, and Vlad pressed his lips together to keep from chuckling.

“Why, such a stern young man!” Pamela cooed beside him, bending down to give her sweetest smile to the boy. Wilting just a little when he turned the glare on her.

Brucie’s hand tightened momentarily on the boy’s shoulder and his expression immediately smoothed out.

“I’m sure he’d much rather be off with his friends, but he was good enough to come tonight and support his brother,” Brucie explained cheerfully, giving Damian a proud smile.

“Wonderful to see young people who understand the importance of family,” Vlad nodded, keeping half an eye on the boy as he spoke. His eyes had narrowed just a little, probably looking for a patronizing tone.

At these kinds of parties, it’d likely be all he heard.

Still, Vlad settled in to make some idle small talk, whiling away the time until dinner. No serious business would be discussed until after the meal after all.

Perhaps he could persuade Brucie to introduce him to Jason.

**

It was Steph who zeroed in on Jason’s flash of white hair first, but Tucker who crashed almost directly into Danny and hissed the news.

“Vlad’s here and he’s complimenting you!”

Danny stumbled back to catch them both, staring in bewilderment.

“He’s fucking what?” He asked incredulously. Tucker nodded quickly, grabbing his elbows.

“Seriously, he basically told the Mansons to fuck off for badmouthing you,” he hissed, and now Sam was intrigued too.

“Vlad? Our Vlad? “Phantom is the greatest threat our city has ever known” Vlad?” She asked.

Danny elbowed her sharply and she rolled her eyes, but Steph definitely noted it down to ask later. Tucker nodded again, faster than before.

“Right? He’s definitely up to something.”

“Could be his new plan to win you over,” Steph added, closing the rest of the distance to tuck herself into the group.

Danny paused for a moment then grimaced and shook his head.

“Nah, it’s never that simple with Vlad. He knows I’m not gonna just hear some kind words and fall into his arms.”

Sam rolled her eyes, turning and firmly piloting their new cluster to one of the windows, out of the way of the less nosy eyes.

“Danny, it’s Vlad. He’s still convinced your mom just needs to be alone with him for five minutes to fall head over heels, no matter how many times she karate chops him.”

Which, yes, Steph was adding that to the questions list too, a smile tugging at her lips. She cut them off anyway, making pointed eye contact with Jason.

“Not that this doesn’t already sound fun, but I’m also pretty sure I just saw Selina Kyle,” she told him sweetly, and had the joy of watching him actually blue screen.

Just. Stared into space for fifteen seconds.

Then sighed and scrubbed both hands down his face.

“Of fucking course she is. Why not? Does anyone wanna call the Joker, see if he wants to join too?” He asked sarcastically, tossing both hands into the air.

Steph snickered and rose on her tiptoes to ruffle his hair, ignoring the confusion of their new friends.

“Hey, look at it this way. She’ll keep Bruce off your ass,” she offered cheerfully and Jason groaned louder, giving the window a speculative look like he was considering jumping out of it.

Tempting.

Sam leaned in, giving them both a sharp look.

“Who’s Selina Kyle?” She asked bluntly, and Steph paused for just a moment, wondering how best to put it.

How to describe the fucking disaster that was Batman and Catwoman to someone who couldn’t know either of their identities. Ah, yes, she knew.

“Bruce’s kleptomaniac ex-and-sometimes-current girlfriend. Every single conversation they have is riddled with innuendo and pussy jokes that she makes, and she’s been around since Jason was knee high.”

“So she’s got stories?” Tucker asked, eyes brightening as she twigged.

Jason turned and pointed his most menacing finger at him.

“She does not have fucking stories and you do not want to talk to her, she’ll steal the filings from your teeth,” he warned sharply.

Danny’s lips moved soundlessly for a moment and then suddenly the most wicked glee Steph had ever seen from anyone not a sibling lit his face.

“Jason… she has pixie boot stories, doesn’t she?” He asked in a low hiss, and Steph’s brows shot straight to her hairline.

Jason had only ever willingly worn pixie boots for one reason. Guess things with Danny were serious serious.

So how much had Jason told him?

From the way he was now glaring warningly at Danny, and Sam was rounding on Jason with intrigue, glee, and a complete lack of understanding, it was just Danny for now.

“We’re not talking to or about Selina,” he hissed, crowding up into Danny’s space and ooooh Steph wasn’t too worried about their mutual secret to miss that cute little blush on Danny’s cheeks.

Which also didn’t stop the man himself from grinning up at Jason, even if he did have to crane his neck back to do it.

“Does she have pictures?” He asked with a genuinely wicked glee that Steph just adored.

“Pictures of you in pixie boots?” Sam cut in, crowding up to Jason’s other side.

And now Jason’s cheeks were flushing red.

“They were in fashion at the time!” He defended weakly, and Steph had to laugh at that.

“Yeah, them and mullets,” she cackled and Jason shot her a scowl too.

“Weren’t you guys supposed to be keeping an eye on someone?” He asked sharply, changing the subject like that had ever worked.

Didn’t work on Tucker either apparently, and Steph liked that in a man as the Black guy gave Jason that pure and innocent smile.

“Yeah, Bruce and the Mansons, but that part of the show’s over. Damian’ll let us know if anything happens,” he dismissed easily, and Jason scowled.

Steph braced herself for the flare of green, especially when it had already been so close tonight, and was almost shocked when it didn’t come. When was the last time Jason had glared so much without it?

Maybe Danny did know what he was doing.

The rest of their families’ secrets notwithstanding, she decided that for the moment she had to approve.

It’d be subject to change, a bat never planned against new intel, but for now? She liked Danny. He was honest, easy going, and made her brother blush in ways she’d never seen before.

There were clearly secrets, but he’d dropped a big one on them already with his own Lazarus exposure. Secrets never lasted long in this family anyway, but Steph could wait on digging for these.

She had much more important things to do, like tease Jason mercilessly.

For now, she popped up on his other side to press a kiss to his cheek and ruffle his hair again.

“Well, I’m gonna go find Dick and let him know Selina’s around. Tucker, do you wanna find Tim? If he has you beside him Vlad’s way more likely to be confused,” she added innocently.

Like Tucker’s eyes hadn’t always lit up at the chance to hang out with Tim. She’d be offended if she hadn’t also seen the appeal.

The smirk Sam shot her meant the other girl definitely knew what she was doing, and Steph took a moment to grin back.

Yeah. Getting Sam Manson’s number before the night ended, preferably willingly. Girls gotta stick together, and mercilessly bully their mlm besties.

Tucker hesitated a moment longer, clearly also dying for pixie boot stories, but in the end his nerdery won. Surprising no one.

“Yeah, we’ll go spread the word,” he agreed dramatically, like it was all down to him. Then he pointed back at Jason, utterly unintimidated by a full mountain of muscle. “But I want pictures too!”

“No one’s getting pictures,” Jason said firmly, and Steph danced carefully out of earshot.

“I know where Alfred keeps the scrapbooks,” she called in a sing song voice, and was a little surprised not to even feel anticipation when Jason lunged at her.

Teasing him was usually a careful game, something she had to put her mind into. Watching the pit, calculating his limits, ready to fully run if he broke.

But he was so fun to tease, and it felt… yeah. Nice to wind him up like Dickie or Tim, or Bruce himself. Nice not to be prepared for a sudden attack.

It wasn’t like she’d have ever stopped if he had lashed out anyway.

Danny was good for him, for whatever reason. She shot them both finger guns, heading back for the middle of the room.

“Try not to get into anything scandalous,” she called, loud enough to turn a couple heads. Which would only help their primary, Manson related plans.

Jason flipped her off while Tucker hurried after her, chuckling to himself.

“So, scrapbooks?” He asked hopefully, and Steph shot him finger guns too.

“Not tonight, but it’s happening. We need a group chat.”

“We so fucking do.”

**

Bruce was not having a fun evening.

He’d been happy Jason had found a guest to bring. Over the moon, really. He needed a life outside of his crimes.

Less happy that Jason had held out on the name of his guest, only sending it when Bruce would be too busy to properly investigate, but he couldn’t exactly blame him.

Bruce knew he could be paranoid and overbearing, his kids made sure to remind him constantly. And Jason deserved privacy.

But it had quickly become clear that “Tucker Foley” and “Pit Helping Danny” were not the same person. Whoever Jason wanted to introduce them to, it wasn’t just his mystery date.

Fortunately one had led neatly to the other, the Mansons revealing the trick quite by accident. And they’d known a lot more about Real Danny too.

None of it predisposed Bruce well to the boy.

Apparently he was reckless, lazy, trouble prone, unmotivated, and a very bad influence.

It felt fucking stupid when he knew full well that Jason was a crime lord and official serial killer, but Bruce just didn’t want him to get into any more trouble.

And if this Daniel Fenton was still half the boy the Mansons knew, there was a whole other world of shady exploits he could be dragging Jason into.

Ghost hunters. Really.

Everyone knew about Amity Park’s “ghost problem”; a cheap way to drum up tourist dollars, just like Bigfoot sightings.

They’d tried calling the Justice League out more than once, but Constantine had marked it as a no fly zone. Which meant there was nothing supernatural there worth bothering with.

The regular Justice League had no time for claims of magical mayhem.

Vladimir Masters had been interesting too, both on the Amity Park perspective and in news about Danny.

As the boy’s godfather of course his opinion could be biased, but according to him Danny was a loyal, kind hearted young man. Still rough and tumble but hardly dangerous.

And he’d been right; Bruce had plenty of experience with that type of young person. He’d soon be able to tell just what this Fenton was.

But Masters could be a useful source there, both for information and potentially sympathy. He’d seemed to understand Bruce’s concerns quite well.

Perhaps after dinner he could catch up with the man again. Make some plans, a meeting somewhere a little more private, where his children wouldn’t all be listening in.

He didn’t want to give them the impression that he didn’t trust Jason to handle himself.

He was just.

Concerned.

Jason hadn’t been himself since before they’d buried him, tangled in that mess of his birth mother. He’d done terrible things, but he’d been lost.

Bruce would do all he could to help his boy find himself again, even if that meant taking a more subtle approach. He wouldn’t let Jason be taken advantage of.

Meeting with Masters would have to wait, however, because as they’d been chatting he’d caught sight of an unfortunately familiar slinky black dress.

He’d excused himself from the adults and slipped past Damian with a meaningful look, and followed her trail through the crowds.

She slipped through easily, winding between people and Bruce could easily guess just how many would be finding their pockets all the lighter for it.

He had to go a little slower, his broad shoulders making him more noticeable and kept him from her tighter squeezes, but she couldn’t avoid him forever.

For one thing, she clearly didn’t want to. He finally caught up at the foot of the stairs to the entrance, turned away from him to admire the lion statue at the base of the banister.

“Bruce,” she greeted without turning, leaning back and just knowing where he’d be. He hated being predictable, and yet… he couldn’t disappoint her.

“Selina. I didn’t realize you were coming.” He’d checked the guest list twice today, but there were always so many plus ones. He hadn’t invited her, but that’d never stopped her before.

She tipped her chin up to smile at him, hearing every unsaid word.

“And miss young Jason’s return? Why Bruce, I’ve known the boy almost as long as you have, I’m happy to see him alive and well.” It was a gentle reprimand, and for a moment he wondered if she’d expected an invitation.

If he should have asked Jason if he’d like her there. But then, which of his children had ever liked it when Selina came around?

Not least because she always broke the rules, and he always found himself letting her. Never the most important, never the one Jason broke, but…

Selina wasn’t his weakness, he didn’t have one. But she was a distraction.

He smiled back, calculated, charming. The one she liked to see in public.

“Of course. Have you seen him?” She might have valuable insights into Jason’s condition, though she’d refused to get involved since his… original return.

Not getting caught in family squabbles. He’d always liked that about her.

She hummed softly, leaning more of her weight into his chest, hand reaching up over her head to caress his chin.

“Not yet, but I’ll say hi eventually. Rumour has it he’s growing quite the harem,” she purred, and Bruce damn near choked.

Harem? Jason?!

“Oh?” Was all he managed, and even then he knew she heard the strain when he felt a low chuckle rumble through her back.

“Word has it the young Samantha Manson and her own date are both all over him. Poor boy, and his own plus one is being borrowed by half the Waynes. What have you been teaching those boys?” She teased, fingertips running just shy of his lower lip.

Definitely feeling where it puckered slightly into one of his minimal frowns. Nothing he’d heard about this “Danny” was setting him at ease.

Still, best not to let anything too real show.

“He’s always been good at making friends,” he allowed, gaze now scanning the rest of the room for his son.

Selina chuckled again, finally stepping away and turning to face him, giving him an appreciative once over.

“Now that’s a lot tamer than what I heard. I’ve heard that they’ve already bustled off to the back rooms, and reemerged en déshabillé,” she purred, and Bruce tensed.

Jason wouldn’t. Not with a stranger. Not at a gala.

True, it wasn’t on the (long, extensive) list of forbidden gala behaviours, but that was because it didn’t have to be.

Jason didn’t like following any of his other rules.

Jason was an adult. Bruce wasn’t… a fool. He was aware that quite a few of his children had grown up. And may, possibly, in an abstract way, have a sex life.

He didn’t like to fucking think about it at the best of times, but Jason? Who couldn’t control himself, who had those unpredictable rages?

No, he did not like that thought at all. His face must have set into stern lines because Selina’s hand was on his cheek again, brushing like she could smooth them out.

“Now now, Bruce. He’s twenty-two. Remember what you were like at that age?” She cooed, and that really didn’t help.

“That’s different,” he growled, keeping to the Brucie ranges with the iron control he’d prided himself on. The control Jason lacked.

Selina examined his expression for a moment longer then shook her had, patting his face just barely shy of being a slap. He caught her hand, gaze whipping round to focus on her again.

Just what she’d wanted, of course.

“Darling, you can’t stop him. You two are on rocky enough ground as it is, hmm?” She reminded him gently, voice low.

His grip tightened on her wrist, gaze flashing across her person.

“And if I searched your pockets right now, how many stolen rocks would I find on your person?” He asked equally quietly. Not changing the subject.

Just a good question.

Her eyes narrowed for a moment, then her lips curled into a smile and she stepped closer.

“Well if Jason’s left the back rooms free, you can search me as closely as you’d like,” she purred, pressing herself to him from shoulder to thigh.

And definitely felt him twitch in annoyance, grip tightening again. He forced himself to let go, step away, before his reactions could betray him further.

“Enough, Selina. Why are you really here?” He asked sharply, carefully balancing the line between Brucie casual and the answers he wanted.

She looked him over for a moment more then shook her head, half smiling.

“Touchy touchy. I’m here to give my best wishes to Jason, darling. Nothing more. And if some of these jumped up little pheasants find their tails a little lighter for it, I don’t think you really care, do you?” She asked rhetorically, turning away to slink back into the crowd.

Bruce considered following her. Pushing for more, working out what she really wanted.

It could wait until he’d checked the back rooms. Or found Jason. Whichever came first.

—————

Part 2!

[presidenthades]

I am doing very minor revisions of Daemon’s Handbook (mostly formatting and continuity errors), and I wanted to do some behind-the-scenes commentary before too much time passes and I forget my original thoughts. Here’s Chapter 6!

(Note that these commentaries aren’t canon to the verse until/unless the author writes them into the series. I might change my mind on a few points later, but these are the thoughts I had while writing.)

This was the first chapter that really made me worry about tonal shift in this story. We get into some more serious topics than usual, but it was necessary to address them in a somewhat serious manner. But I wanted to make sure the fic stayed in the comedy category. So I ended up doing a sandwich method with funnier bits at the beginning and end, and keeping the serious drama concentrated in the middle. But I also tried to weave in Daemon’s sassy mental commentary etc. to prevent things from getting too heavy.

During the course of this fic, Daemon /thinks about cutting/threatens to cut off at least 5 of Aegon’s body parts. Three of those incidents happen in this chapter alone.

I spent A LOT of time thinking about the Hightowers’ reaction to the elopement, because I admittedly did not plan it well when I started the fic. In the show, Alicent hated the Jace/Helaena match because Jace is a bastard and Alicent would have to sacrifice her daughter as a potential hostage. In this verse, it’s the other way around with Jace as the daughter, and legitimate to boot, so Alicent doesn’t have much to object to. On the contrary, I think Alicent *likes* Jace in this verse because Jace is very well-behaved and is a good influence on Aegon. If Alicent disapproves of the elopement, it’s because elopements are scandalous and, more importantly, it makes Helaena look bad as Aegon’s original betrothed. Thankfully, Helaena is a huge Jacegon shipper and totally not offended.

Otto’s reaction was pretty straightforward once I thought about it. In the show, he suggested betrothing Rhaenyra and Aegon, which would have united their claims and prevented bloodshed (one hopes) while getting his blood on the throne eventually. The Jacegon match does the same thing one generation later. And in the worst case scenario, the Greens have Jace as a hostage since usually the wife moves in with her husband’s family (one of the reasons Daemon hates the match).

Someone in a discord server suggested that maybe Otto planted the idea of elopement in Aegon’s head (they were of the opinion that Otto would be the #1 Jacegon shipper in this verse), which would be *hilarious*, but I haven’t decided if that actually makes sense. But if I could somehow make it work, that would be fantastic lol (Can you imagine Otto yelling at Aegon “just seduce the girl, dammit” 😂😂😂)

Rhaenyra is the one who has reasons to protest the match because, as she says in the chapter, she thinks Aegon would be a bad husband. She’s also been dealing with Otto’s attempts to betroth Jacegon since Jace was born, so she is kind of tired and wary of it whenever it’s mentioned. She knows Jace likes Aegon, but she thinks it’s a “good girl crushing on a bad boy” thing that Jace will grow out of. (I’m imagining a crushing conversation where Rhaenyra explains to 6-year-old Jace why she can’t marry Aegon 😢)

And Viserys makes things worse, as always, by betrothing Aegon and Helaena, which makes zero people happy. Viserys was supportive of the Jacegon match when the Hightowers proposed it, but Rhaenyra objected so he didn’t press the issue. (It’s not like he’s the king or anything, right?)

Btw I forgot that Viserys loses his hand sometime before Ep 6, so in this verse, we’re going to pretend he decays less slowly and still has both hands because he’s less stressed or something.

The image of burrito!Rhaenyra strapped to Dreamfyre makes me giggle. She’s determined to be in King’s Landing for whatever conversation happens about Jace, but she’s postpartum so she can’t sit on Syrax as usual, then Helaena offers to take her on Dreamfyre if the Dragonkeepers can make what is essentially an adult car seat. Rhaenyra is pretty helpless in this position, literally strapped in behind Helaena, so I imagine there had to be a good deal of trust between the half-sisters here. It helps that Helaena is close to Rhaenyra’s daughters in this verse so Rhaenyra knows her better.

Daemon and Rhaenyra’s vocal objections to Aegon’s character really make an impact on Aegon. I was strongly influenced by a Tom Glynn-Carney interview where he described Aegon as “desperate to be loved but destined to be hated.” In this verse, Aegon finds that Jace fills that need to be loved but he isn’t sure he deserves that love, so Daemon and Rhaenyra’s arguments unwittingly strike very close to home. And that’s why he does the something stupid later in the chapter, so he can prove he’s worthy.

I was so excited to make my joke about Lannisters shitting gold that I forgot Lord Beesbury is still master of coin while Tyland is master of ships. So I retconned Beesbury into retirement and promoted Tyland. My bad.

Jace and Rhaenyra have a loud, healthy, mother-daughter argument this chapter, which Daemon conveniently sleeps through. While Jace is at Driftmark, she learns more about Rhaenyra’s youthful misadventures, and Jace still has *feelings* about the Daemyra elopement (which was only 9 months before this chapter), so this leads to Jace feeling some complicated resentment toward her mother. But they work it out.

This is the last chapter where Aegon and Aemond are afraid of Daemon. Starting in Chapter 7, after they come back from the Stepstones, they’re much less intimidated by him. Poor Daemon, he can’t even have the simple pleasure of terrifying his nephews. 😔

Another retcon: Helaena’s prophecy this chapter originally said “Gold and bronze.” I was trying to refer to Sunfyre and Vhagar but the show is too damn dark for me to see what color Vhagar is, so I honestly thought she was some kind of brown/bronze, and the fandom wiki wasn’t super clear either. Then I read a HOTD behind-the-scenes book that describes Vhagar as jade so I went with that. My bad (again).

I just want to say that one of my favorite sentences I have EVER written was in this chapter. “The queen…wore a smile so tight that it could probably garrote a man.” 🖤

Aegon’s spiel about a boy becoming a man when “he has seen his own blood flow and heard his teeth crunch under the blow of an opponent” is based on a quote by a 12th-century chronicler named Roger of Howden.

When Aemond shows up in the garden in the final scene, Viserys honestly forgets his name at first. Dad of the year, y’all 😭

Chapter 7 commentary here

[justanother-blogpost]

Same old same old

Really need to express my feelings or else I might go insane.

For the longest time I've felt that I've been suppressing something. I've been in a very good mood for a couple of months now since I left my job that I hated. I decided to fill that time with learning new cooking recipes, doing chores and reading. Lately I've gotten bored so I decided to not be as productive (I still go to the gym regularly) and I've been glued to my phone reading fanfictions. To me it's not about the character, I could care less; it's about the kind of love that is portrayed there.

I became so indulged that I think I'm never going to find love like that. My ex made sure of that. For me to understand that what I'm looking for in a partner is unreasonable. What I truly want is someone who understands me, communicates, is open-minded, doesn't judge, tries to understand, will be there for me, is supportive, loving and caring, not make me feel like I am a chore he just has to do; and I don't think I'm ever going to find that. Preferably someone with the same hobbies as me would also be nice: gym, movies, music, gaming.

Every day I am reminded that I am less, less than the people around me. I don't have a job, I don't have experience, god dammit I don't even have a fucking boyfriend and I am unable to get one because I have the social skills of a fish. If I like you I will make 100% sure to ignore you so you never know. I am turning 26 this year and I feel like I have accomplished shit, I should have had one good thing in my life by now, but I don't.

Don't get me wrong, I've made a lot of changes in my life lately, but I feel like I need a new change soon... or I might just go insane. I've had a huge transformation, but I go from feeling so sexy, to being reminded of my saggy breasts, big arms and belly from my ex. How can anyone love that? How can anyone love me? I surely don't think I'm ugly, but finding someone that will like me for me seems almost impossible. What if they get bored of me? I've heard of so many stories of couples breaking up, because of a disease or because of pregnancy or simply because they got bored. I can't have that, I really can't. It would break me way too much. I would rather not experience the love at all than have it all taken away from me. You can never be sure of someone's intentions, never; even if you've known them for years.

I just need one good fucking thing in my life and the only thing that is slightly possible is getting close to my gym crush, but I'm incapable of even doing that. Sure I've seen him steal glances at me, he's sat next to me when the benches were empty, saw him change a machine only to change to the same exact one which was next to me and I felt like he wanted to say something; but you want to know what I fucking did? The few times we have chatted it was just simple gym etiquette and after that nothing. I would look at him as if I didn't know him, like he never fucking existed. If he thinks about me he surely thinks one of two things a)that I think he's a creep or b)I'm just not interested in him, where both of which by the way are so far from the truth. But then again why hasn't he initiated contact? I know he sort of knows who I am due to mutual friends, so why doesn't he make the first move? I understand I really do, but I just can't fucking do it myself. I'm so awkward and so shy and I just fucking know I will mess it up if I go to him first.

People around me make me feel so fucking broken. people I actually look up to. If they even knew I write things like these they would make fun of me. Isn't it fucking enough that I'm kind, polite, somewhat smart? These are things you can't buy and certainly can't change with time. If I had a job and a boyfriend they would surely call me perfect afterward, but why does the second one mean so much and the first dogshit?!

I had so much fucking anxiety because of this I couldn't sleep. I went to the gym to blow off some steam: still there, then went out for a couple of hours. The gym surely did help a lot, but I have a feeling of emptiness now, like something's missing, like the feelings are just idle for the time being; hibernating, and will come back to haunt me soon enough when I least expect it. Maybe being alone for two years is as much as I can go, before feeling the need of someone by my side, and when you have experienced that it's hard to make peace with the loneliness again.

Maybe being productive again will help, I don't know, but I feel like it will only make me feel better for a while, unless an actual change happens in my life.

[abandoned-as-mustard]

So, sucking it up and making a decision about one person doesn't erase the fact that half of my playlist (as well as its existence) is because of the other person 😂💀💀💀

[urimaginespimp]

A Half-naked Nurse and Wrong Ideas.

Bucky x Reader with fever.

Thank you @daredarling for the “you’ve gotten sick and Bucky takes care of you” idea.

——–

You should’ve known better than to race Sam under a thunderstorm last night. Waking up the next morning, you had a massive headache, your muscles felt sore, and you were shivering.

“Miss Y/N, Mr. Barnes says you’re half an hour late in training.” FRIDAY’s voice spoke, making you groan and bring your comforters above you.

“Tell him to fuck off.” you muffled under the sheets.

Barnes… He has been nothing but a pain in the ass to you. To this day, you don’t know what you’ve done for him to dislike you this much. And as if his snarky comments and glares thrown your way wasn’t enough, Steve actually paired you both for missions and trainings.

If he wasn’t so handsome you would’ve cut him already. If Steve allowed you.

Loud bangs hit your door outside. “Y/L/N you’re already 30 minutes late! That’s 5 laps extra for you!” You could hear the irritation lacing his voice.

Maybe if you ignore him long enough, the pest would go away.

“I know you’re in there!” He followed up after you ignored him.

Sighing in annoyance, you got up, with the blankets still wrapped around you, and weakly waddled your way to your door, not bothering to open up your curtains. Opening the door, A frowning Bucky was looking down on you. If you weren’t feeling so shitty, you would’ve snickered at his expression.

“Barnes why are you so obsessed with me?” your cracked voice barely managed to finish asking.

He was observing you from head to toe, noting how pale you are, and shivering under a huge comforter despite that your AC was off.

“You’re stupid.” That was the first thing that came out of his mouth.

“Well, you’re not that sma-”

“Will you shut up and go back to bed? You look like you’re about to drop dead any second now.” He interrupted you, his face still stern with no emotion.

Rolling your eyes, you turned back and weakly made your way back over to bed, pausing to groan as you remembered you forgot to close the door.

“If you’re still there, could you please close the door.” it almost pained you to even be so polite to him but you blame it to being sick.

Finally managing to lie back down, you stared up the ceiling when you heard the door finally shut gently. Sighing, you were about to let sleep take over you when something caught the corner of your eye.

Bucky was by the closed door, taking his shirt off over his head. You let out a shriek. “What the fuck are you doing in my room?!”

“You’re sick.” he replied nonchalantly, while kicking off his shoes, leaving him in his sweatpants and socks.

“And taking off your clothes is supposed to make me feel better?!” you were trying to support yourself with your elbow, facing his way. “And I meant that you close the door before leaving.”

“I don’t want to die of heat while taking care of you.” he replied in a duh tone before entering your bathroom to fetch some warm water in a basin.

You were still trying to process what he was getting at when he finally went back out, now basin with steaming water in hand.

“You got a clean towelette I can use?” has asked as he placed the basin on the foot of your bed.

“Yeah, it’s by the third dra- what the hell are you doing again?” you caught yourself as he was opening your drawers. “Because if you’re trying to kill me, doing it while I’m defenseless is just beneath you.”

“Didn’t think your IQ could get any lower but you’re sick so I’ll let this pass.” He rolled his eyes before soaking the cloth on the water. “I’m nursing you. Now lay flat and still so the cloth won’t fall off that forehead of yours.” he instructed, again sounding so casual.

You followed his orders before realizing that this whole ordeal was still very weird. “I’m sorry, I still don’t get why you’re doing this.”

He went by your head and placed the cloth on your forehead, making you sigh at the warmth it brought your chilling form. “Steve will have my head if he finds out I knew you’re sick and let you die.”

You stared at him deadpan.

“And partners are supposed to be taking care of each other.” he muttered, making the side of your mouth twitch.

“If you tell anyone I said that I’ll kill you.” he lightly threatened when he noticed your mouth twitch.

“Fair enough. And I should probably tell you that I’m prone to get mentally confused when I have fevers which is a normal symptom, but just letting you know in case I start saying something nice.” you chuckled.

He went over your mini fridge and opened a bottle of water to drink.

You look at him, noticing that he was starting to sweat a lot from the heat. His skin was glistening making you mentally kick yourself from staring.

“You got underwear?” you found yourself asking, making him choke on his drink.

“What?”

“I-I’m just saying i-if you’re that hot, you can just take off your sweatpants and I won’t mind.”

“You’re saying I’m hot?” he chuckled, having fun twisting your words, making you flush. “Hey, color’s back on your face. Maybe I should get you all flustered more.” he teased further.

“Shut up Barnes, I meant that the room’s too hot for you because the AC is off. You’re sweating like a pig.”

“Save the excuses, Y/N. You won’t mind if I’ll just be in my boxers?” he smirked at you as he took his socks off and started working on untying the strings of his sweats.

“Puh-lease, Barnes, it may come as a shock to you, but I’ve seen enough men in boxers. You’re not that…”

You trailed off what you were going to say when you noticed that this was a different kind of boxers. Why were they so tight?

You thought he meant boxer shorts, not boxer briefs. Dammit.

“I’m not that…?” He asked.

“I forgot. Fever brain.” You shrugged, diverting your eyes away from him. “Anyway, why are you so nice to me? You hate me.”

“I don’t hate you.” He contradicts, placing his hands on his hips.

“Uh, yeah you do.” you paused to let out a cough. “You always make fun of me or provoke me in front of everyone else.”

“And how do I treat you when we’re alone, especially in missions?” he raised his brows at you, expecting that you’ll put two and two together.

“A lot nicer actually.” You muttered.

“Look, I’m sorry. It’s just that the team keeps insisting I have a crush on you.” he scratched the back of his head.

“That’s ridiculous. Why would they even think that?” you chuckled.

“It’s Sam’s fault. He tricked me.”

“What?”

“He was being all hypothetical, saying what if I was only allowed to date someone from the team and who would I choose. And I uh… may have said I’d choose you. And everyone else heard.” He muttered the last part, embarrassed.

It was your turn to smirk at him. “And why me?”

“Stop that. You look like a smirking corpse.” he snapped at you defensively and cleared his throat. “It’s just that you were actually really nice to me when we met. Didn’t feel like you were masking apprehensiveness like everybody did when I first got here.”

“Sounds like you have a crush on me.” you had the courage to tease him, seeing how flustered he got from telling the story.

“This is not how you treat your nurse, Y/N.”

“Yeah, a nurse in his underwear. Very ethical. And I’m not your supervisor, but I think brooding is not advisable.”

“And now as your nurse, I would advise you to quit talking and get some sleep.”  he playfully glared at you. “I’ll be by the chair to constantly check on your temperature and replace the cloth on your forehead.”

“I really appreciate what you’re doing, Barnes. I’m starting to think the team’s right.”

“Ma’am flirting with patients and vice versa is frowned upon. Now sleep.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

——–

While you were finally snoozing for over an hour, gentle knocks were heard on your door.

Standing up from his chair, Bucky quickly made his way over the door to prevent more knocks from disturbing your sleep, forgetting that he was still only in his boxer briefs.

Opening it slowly, he was met with three pairs of wide eyes belonging to Steve, Sam, and Nat.

“Hey you guys, could you keep it down? Y/N is getting some rest.”

“Uhuh… I bet she needs it.” Sam replied slowly, still wide-eyed, noting how Bucky’s slightly sweaty.

“So… when did this happen?” It was Steve’s turn to speak up.

“Oh, just this morning. She was running late and I came here with the intention of punishing her for it but I ended up taking care of her.” He explained in a low voice, still oblivious to how their teammates were getting a totally different idea.

“Woah.” Nat muttered under her breath.

“Yeah, I guess her muscles are all sore because she was moving so weakly, and her voice is all hoarse now when she talks, and -”

“Look we’re happy for you, but TMI, Buck! TMI.” Steve cut him off and the three of them scrambled away from your room, with Sam muttering he didn’t need the unwelcomed visuals, and Nat screaming for Wanda.

Now left alone and confused by the doorway, he was trying to figure out why they reacted that way when it finally clicked.

“Fuck.” he whisper-yelled, knowing that the teasing was about to get worse.

——–

Final Part

Permanent tag list: @lizzarooni

Marvel Masterlist

[from-seas-to-skies]

The Teacher / Bakugou x Reader ♕︎

warnings: NSFW, teacher/student relationship, oral sex, spitting, sir kink, slut shaming, somewhat brat taming, age difference, unprotected sex

words: 5,772

(a/n): Bakugou is 30 in this; reader is younger (college age)

-

Tick, tock. Tick, tock.

One, two, three, four… How long was it going to take until class ended again?

Looking up from your notebook, you stare up at the clock, the large, monotonous face seemingly glaring straight back at you. You don’t know how it happens, but time always moves so slow when it comes to your calculus class. Frankly, you’d rather ditch the class altogether, but if you wanted to graduate from college, you had to pass. Curse stupid curriculums and all that shit.

However, despite absolutely dreading having to stare at numbers for a solid hour and a half, there is a plus side to taking this dreaded class. In fact, it’s the very reason why you signed up for it in the first place. You’ve heard so many wonderful things about it, all from girls and guys alike, and you knew you had to see it up close and personal – rather, you had to see him.

Professor Bakugou.

Age thirty, drives a Land Rover, and, most importantly, single.

He’s about as dreamy as they come; a complete and utter Dreamboat Annie, absolutely huge in both height and stature, intelligent, and handsome. He’s only been a professor for a few years, but it’s been made apparent to the school that he’s worth it. Not only are his teaching methods and lectures incredible, but he’s turned out some of the highest grades your college has even seen. That itself is impress, and, combined with the hype of how hot he is, it’s no wonder people rush to take his classes.

So, when it came time for class schedules to come out, you were excited, needless to say. Despite having a general disliking to math in the first place, you figured this one guy could be what it takes to turn that idea around. Oh, but that was before you first laid your eyes on him.

Shit, you had heard that he was attractive – godly, even – but this? You weren’t expecting this. His biceps alone could crack a watermelon, and his sharp jawline could easily cut diamonds. It sounds cliché, that’s true, but you have no other way of putting it. Words did not do this man any justice.

At first, his constant yelling and crude demeanor were a total turn off. Professor Bakugou was essentially the teacher version of Gordon Ramsay, and you weren’t entirely sure if you liked that or not. However, as time continued, you actually grew accustomed to it. In fact, if he didn’t yell at least once during the class, you’d immediately figured he was having a bad day.

That’s when the thoughts began. Call it infatuation, a mindless crush, whatever, but you wanted Professor Bakugou. Your eyes soon began to watch his large hands flex while he wrote on the board rather than the content itself. You’d watch his forearms flex while he turned the page in his textbook, prominent veins inviting you for a better look. How you longed to touch him, to grab his sturdy shoulders or pull his wild hair. He always looked so good, clothes tailored to fit his muscular frame perfectly.

You’d fantasize about the most random of scenarios, each of them usually ending up with him bending you over his desk at the front of the room. You liked colder days the best, especially since Professor Bakugou had the habit of wearing form-fitting sweaters that outlined his massive pecs or the swell of his arms. You wanted to make him feel better, to sit underneath the desk and suck him off while he taught the rest of the class. Those narrow hips had to be strong, and you’d be damned if you never got to experience their power at least once.

It’s almost as if Professor Bakugou had cast a spell over all of his students. Nearly all of them gushed about how great he was; and, if you were in the proper company, they exchanged fantasies or proclamations about how fucking gorgeous he was. You’d usually grow bitter at these types of conversations. It was a crush, for fuck’s sake. There was no need to get all pouty like some problematic schoolgirl.

Still, the thoughts wouldn’t go away, not when he taught, not when he yelled. His booming voice became a part of your wicked fantasies, wondering how it’d sound to hear him grunting your name or commanding you to spread his legs for him. Again and again, you told yourself that it was fine, that people develop crushes on their teachers all the time. It was only in the dead of night that you’d have your hand stuffed down your pants and mouth moaning his name into a pillow was when you regretted it. It was a phase, nothing more.

And yet, over two months into the semester, and these thoughts still won’t go away. The constant ticking of the clock brings you back down to Earth, your eyes focusing on the problems before you. Swallowing thickly, you loosen your hand, now just noticing how hard you’ve begun to clench your pencil. Your insides feel oddly warm, that pleasant, heavy feeling sitting behind your belly button. Dammit, you mentally curse, this is not the time to be getting distracted.

Tick, tock. Tick, tock.

If only class could end sooner.

“Right,” Professor Bakugou suddenly says from his desk, “this Friday, I’m holding a study session for the upcoming exam on Monday. There’s only going to be a limited number of seats available, so if you wanna join, here’s your chance.” With his words, he holds a blank sheet of notebook paper up, a rather bored expression on his face.

He must be tired, you think, unconsciously biting your bottom lip. But why?

Around you, students shuffle to the front of the class, waiting for a chance to scribble their names onto the paper. Some seem a bit more excited than others, obviously arching their backs or flipping their hair over their shoulders. With a scoff, you look back down to your work. Did they really think they could catch his attention like that? Yeah, so he doesn’t show off a ring on his finger, but it’s pretty likely that he has people throwing themselves at him all the time. Besides, Professor Bakugou is a strict guy; there’s no way he’d engage in a relationship with a student.

You really shouldn’t be getting your hopes up. It’s pointless to pine after your teacher like that, especially with the risks that come along with getting involved with each other. Still, you can’t help but feel bitter. Professor Bakugou is a god that walks amongst men, so how could you not want somebody like him?

“Alright, that’s all for today. Class dismissed,” Professor Bakugou calls out. Dammit, you spaced out again. Maybe you should get that checked out?

With a sigh, you stuff your belongings into your backpack and draw to a stand. You wish it would be spring already; trudging through snow and ice is never fun, and the fact that your dorm is basically on the other side of campus makes it even more rough. Pulling your coat on and slinging your backpack over your shoulders, you make way towards the classroom door, completely unaware of a set of eyes watching your every move.

-

“Man, this is impossible,” your best friend, Ashido Mina, groans. “I’m going to bomb this exam for sure!” Sprawled out on her stomach, she squirms on the floor, her face scrunching with her displeasure.

You, on the other hand, sit cross-legged across from her. Notebooks and math textbooks surround the two of you, your laptop and calculator at the ready. Bags of chips and pretzels sit to the side, along with abandoned coffee cups and empty water bottles. Professor Bakugou’s exams were notorious for being hard, but at the same time, if you payed attention in class and studied, you’d succeed. The thing is, though, that neither you nor Mina are the best when it comes to math.

“I thought you went to his study session?” you ask, glancing up from your own notebook.

Flashing you a pout, Mina nervously runs a hand through her fluffy hair. “Well, yeah, but you know how it goes! A secluded area with Professor Bakugou! It’s like a dream come true! It was hard to focus when he’s leaning over your shoulder like that…”

Rolling your eyes, you puff in amusement. “Really? Mina, you know what will happen if you fail this test.”

“Yeah, yeah, but come on! You can’t blame me! You would’ve done the exact same thing!”

“I don’t think so.”

“Oh yes you would’ve!” Mina exclaims, pointing an accusing finger your way. “Don’t pretend like you don’t ogle Professor Bakugou during class! He’s one hell of a hunk, isn’t he? I never knew college professors could be so hot!” she gushes, a giggle following her words. “And that study session – oh my god, I nearly thought I was going to heart attack when he helped me solve this one problem. He’s so warm and he smells great!”

You cock an eyebrow at her. “You were smelling our teacher?”

At that, Mina blows a raspberry and waves a dismissive hand. “I’m not Kaminari, sweetheart. I have class. Besides, Professor Bakugou smells like caramel. Can you believe it? I wonder if he uses cologne or feminine soap.”

Caramel, eh? Now that’s something you can get behind.

“You want him to fuck you, right?”

Wait, what?

Narrowing your gaze at her, your brows knit closely together. “What kind of question is that?”

Mina rolls her eyes. “What, like you don’t think about it? Practically everyone on this campus has thought about it at some point or another? I mean, hello! He’s totally Daddy material. I’ve heard that he goes to the gym sometimes here on campus – turns out he’s huge.”

Huge. Of course this is what Mina chooses to focus on. You wish you had a spray bottle to squirt at her horny ass.

“And I don’t mean muscle wise,” Mina continues, a mischievous expression coming to her face. “I bet he tastes like candy.”

“Mina.”

“Why yes, Mr. Bakugou sir! I’ll gladly suck your fat cock for an A!”

“Mina.”

“His ass is really nice, too. I wouldn’t mind pegging him-“

“MINA.”

“What?”

You smack your forehead and groan as your hand trails down your face. “Are you going to study or not? I don’t know about you, but I’d rather graduate than work at McDonald’s for the rest of my life.”

Mina purses her lips at you in an excessive pout. “You’re such a fun sponge, holy shit. I think you need a good dicking down by Professor Bakugou. Maybe then you’d stop staring after him all the time during class.”

Your face heats up at her words, but there’s no way you’re owning up to that. Okay, so yeah, maybe getting fucked by him would be a dream come true, but you’re more realistic than that. “And you’re not concerned at all that he’s our teacher? You know, like he could lose his job and you could be expelled? That doesn’t bother you? At all?”

Mina shrugs. “Meh.”

“Woooow…. You really are shameless.”

“Hey, you win some, you lose some. If I could get that man to put a ring on my finger, then I’d be okay with it.”

“Yeah, because you definitely want to bring your math professor home. Uh huh, great one. Tell me how that goes.”

With a grunt, Mina rolls over and sits up. “Whatever, man. I’m hungry, so I’m going to go down to the dining hall. Wanna come with?”

Glancing at the alarm clock sitting on your nightstand, you see that it’s only 5:15. True, you could get a bite to eat, but you’d rather stay back and finish a few more problems. “I think I’ll join up with you later,” you tell Mina.

She nods her head and offers you a small smile. “Suit yourself, sweetheart. I’ll see you later.” Gathering up her things, she unceremoniously shoves them into her backpack and salutes you with a goodbye. After she pulls the door shut behind her, you turn back to the task at hand.

It shouldn’t be this hard to solve these last couple of problems, but your brain is really starting to feel the struggle. A dull ache is already forming between your eyeballs, and you truly wonder if you’re going to make it through this or not. Maybe you should take a break, or at least give your eyes a rest. Still, that little stubborn streak in you tells you to carry on. You only have a few more problems left, and you’re so close to finally finishing!

As you set to work, the digits on your alarm clock change as time drags on. Okay, so maybe you’re demanding too much of yourself. Your brain is absolutely fried, and your headache is spreading. Glancing back up at the clock, luminous green lines glare a 5:31. Jeez, it’s only been sixteen minutes since you last checked, yet it seems as though hours have passed. You really want to finish this study session, but the last problem is throwing you in for a loop.

You’ve already scoured your notes and the textbook for how to go about the problem, but your mind is drawing up with a blank. It has to be because you’re tired, right? It’s not that hard… Or is it?

“Dammit,” you mutter, sitting back and pressing your palms flat against the floor. Again, you look at the clock. Frankly, you don’t want to spend all night pouring over this, and you don’t want to skip dinner, either. You know for a fact that Mina will beat your ass for skipping out on food. “Screw it.”

Scrambling off the floor, you throw a thick coat on and slide on your sneakers. Professor Bakugou sometimes has the habit of frequenting his office during the weekends (or so you’ve heard), and you desperately need to know how to solve this problem. Chances are something similar will be on the exam, and you want to get as good of a grade as possible. Plus, if he is there…

You swallow thickly. Now is not the time to let Mina’s previous words get to you.

And so, with your notebook tucked underneath an arm, you take off.

It’s a damned shame that his office is practically on the other side of campus, but you figure it wouldn’t be too bad to get your body moving after spending so much time hunched over. Now that you think about, you could just email him, but you’re not sure how quick he’d respond. This is a dire moment. Okay, maybe not, but still. Maybe you want to see Professor Bakugou. Maybe.

You’re thankful when you finally enter the building, free of the flurries of snow and the seeping chill. Stomping your feet free from snow, you look around, creeped out yet fascinated by the silent, empty halls. You doubt very many people are here besides lingering staff and the janitors. One could only hope that Professor Bakugou is frequenting his office.

As you draw closer and closer to his office, your footsteps bounce off the walls, reminding you of how alone you are. There’s a fifty/fifty chance that he’s even going to be in his office, yet your heart pounds frantically in your chest. If he isn’t there, you’ll just simply turn around and stalk back to your dorm and hope for the best. If he is there, well, you’re not entirely sure what you should say.

He’s your teacher, dammit. It shouldn’t be this hard going up to him and asking him for help. It’s literally his job to help students out; nothing more, nothing less. Still, Mina’s words ring throughout your mind. It’s just a crush, you remind yourself. Stop getting so worked up about it.

There it is, just straight up ahead – Professor Bakugou’s office.

Like the other offices lining the hall, it’s made from a heavy wood, a frosted window place in the top half with Professor Bakugou’s name printed on it. A simple door like this shouldn’t intimidate you so much, but yet it does. All you have to do is knock on it, wait for a possible response, and then go from there. However, now that you’re in front of it, you somewhat hope he’s not there. Your palms are growing clammy and your throat feels fuzzy.

“Here goes nothing,” you tell yourself, reaching up and rapping on the door.

For a moment, nothing happens. Perhaps Lady Luck has decided to spare some mercy on you, after all. Releasing a pent-up breath you didn’t know you were even holding, you prepare to step back and walk away, but then a muffled come in sounds through the door.

Oh, shit.

You wince as your cowardice floods you with a renewed force. There’s no way you can just leave now, not if you want Professor Bakugou potentially chasing you down. Taking in a deep breath, you turn the brass knob and poke your head inside. “Uh, Professor Bakugou?”

Oh, shit.

There he is, sitting behind an oak desk, hunched down over a stack of papers. He holds up a single finger, a signal for you to give him a moment. Immediately, your eyes skim over his exposed forearms, skim over the tight black turtleneck that fits him like a glove. Rolled sleeves, watch on wrist, and a pair of glasses perched on his nose, he’s just dripping with classy sexiness.

The steady tick tock, tick tock fills the otherwise silent room. It grates on your already wired nerves, mocks you for just standing there, waiting. You can’t help but glance at its face – 5:49. It’s already dark out, winter’s everlasting darkness sapping the Earth’s light. Stepping fully inside the room, you gently shut the door behind you, not wanting to interrupt his train of thought.

After another moment or so, he finally clicks his pen closed, tosses it onto the desk, and leans back in his chair. “Oi – what do you want?”

Removing your notebook from underneath your arm, you hold it out for him to take. “I was… I was wondering if you could explain how to work out this problem?”

Quirking an eyebrow, Professor Bakugou sits upright and glances at what you’ve written. “We discussed this during the study session on Friday.” His eyes dart up to yours. “I’m surprised you weren’t there.”

Is he singling you out right now? It feels like he’s singling you out right now. But wait, doesn’t that also mean that he noticed you not being there? He’s just saying that to say it, right? …Right?

“There was a lot on my mind,” you say softly.

Professor Bakugou sighs. “Alright, come here.” Maybe it’s the gruffness of his voice, but the simple command nearly has you whimpering on the spot. Jesus, you need to get your act together!

“Of course, sir,” you reply, the title subconsciously rolling off your tongue. Skirting around the desk, you come to his side, unaware of him shifting in his seat.

“It’s really not that hard if you put your damned brain to use,” he grunts, picking his pen back up. You notice how the tendons in his hand flex with the subtle movement; actually, now that you’re up close in personal, you can clearly see the veins racing up his forearms, the sheen of blond hairs.

Warmth seems to radiate off of him, just like how Mina said. You wonder if he gets hot easily, or if that’s just the way he is. Either way, you shimmy the slightest bit closer to him, eager to ward off the chill that still clings to you from the outside. He goes into great detail about how to go through each step surrounding the problem; you lean over his shoulder as he goes through the steps, the heat emanating from his skin drawing you in more and more. With each breath, the scent of caramel floods your senses. You’re almost half tempted to press your nose to his nape and get a better smell, but that’d just be creepy. Plus, even if you did that, Professor Bakugou could probably pick you up and literally throw you out of his office.

Still, despite knowing the risk, your mind takes off, just like it usually does whenever you’re in his presence. It would just be so easy to squeeze his thick arms, to run your fingers through his thick blonde hair. Maybe you could push the collar of his turtleneck down, expose his neck and bite the pulse. It’s almost ridiculous just how big he is, how easily he could overpower you. A familiar warmth floods your system, encasing your insides and clutching onto your heart. This is bad – very, very bad.

“Oi, what the hell are you staring at?” Professor Bakugou barks.

Snapping yourself back to attention, you notice him staring at you, his glasses now off his handsome face. If possible, he’s even more attractive up close; thick lashes, full lips, a slight gleam in his eyes that demand power and control. He almost looks entirely different like this, face lax instead of fixed with a scowl. Good lord, you really are whipped for him.

“Oh, um, sorry,” you ramble, eyes going wide. “It’s just that your hair looks really… fluffy…?”

“…Hah?”

You quickly avert your eyes. “Nevermind…”

“You know,” Professor Bakugou starts, voice low, “you stare at me a lot during class, too. You’re not very subtle.”

You wince at his words. “I… I’m not sure what you’re talking about-“

Rolling his eyes, he scoffs and tosses down his pen. “You’re not majoring in theatre, are you? Because you suck at acting.” He flashes you a cocky smirk when you look back to him. “Just admit it – you like what you see, don’t ya? Can’t say I blame you.”

Okay, wow, cocky much. Yeah, sure, he’s an absolute babe, but wouldn’t you think he’d be a bit more… modest?

Now it’s your turn to scoff. “Didn’t know my math professor thought so highly of himself.”

“Tch. Looks like you got a damn mouth on you, after all. Well, if you’re done undressing me with your eyes, do you want to learn how to do this problem or not? I don’t like repeating myself, but I’ll let it slide just this once since I like you.”

Wait, wait, hold up. Did he just say he likes you?

“You’re a good student,” Professor Bakugou continues. “Even if you do focus on me more than my lecture.”

Is this how the conversation was supposed to play out? Because damn you’re nearly shaking, and you still have your coat on. He knows too much, dammit. He’s known this entire time and he’s playing you.

“And yet you could’ve easily told me to stop,” you shoot right back, sick of being prosecuted like this. Sure, it might be a bad idea to pick a fight with a teacher, but this is outside of classroom hours; and, frankly, he can kiss your ass. Crude demeanor or not, you’re not about to let this man push you around.

“Who said I wanted you to stop?”

No. There’s no way he just said that. This big-headed narcissist is relishing in this, isn’t he? Bastard.

“Hate to break it to you, Professor, but almost everyone stares at you like that,” you tell him. You realize you just admitted it to the accusation, but there’s no point in defending it anymore.

“Like I give a shit about the others? Really? You’re gonna talk about them?” He scoffs his amusement and leans back in his chair, thick arms crossing over his chest. “Did you come here to ask me questions about the exam or did you just want to be with me all by yourself?”

You hesitate. Is that really the reason you came here tonight? The whole way here you debated this yourself, Mina’s words circling around your head. No, you’re smarter than this. It’s a bad idea to get involved with a teacher – it’s wrong.

“I’m not going to lie or deny the truth,” Professor Bakugou continues, his voice dropping to an uncharacteristically low pitch. “I’m also not stupid. You’re just as scared as me, aren’t you? Of the repercussions.”

Your mouth falls agape. What is he going on about…?

Slowly, Professor Bakugou sits back up, his face getting dangerously close to yours. Hot breath fans over the bottom half of your face. His eyes are heavily lidded, his lashes kissing his cheeks. “I’m not going to force anything on you,” he murmurs. “Tell me to stop and I will.”

Oh my god.

Unable to resist the close proximity anymore, you shoot forward, your hands landing on the arms of the chair; Professor Bakugou’s lips are softer than you anticipated, but in no way is he gentle. Right away he’s clutching the back of your neck, dragging you forward so you’re settled on his lap. The arms of the chair pinch into your thighs at the tight fit, but you could care less. You’re on Professor Bakugou’s lap, you have his tongue in your mouth, his hands landing on your ass and kneading the flesh.

“Fuck, I’ve been wanting to do this forever,” he growls, his hands slipping under your shirt and gliding over your lower back. You arch into his touch, a breathless moan slipping past your lips.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” you pant.

“I know.”

Fuck, it’s all so good, his tongue licking the inside of your mouth and hands unbuttoning your jeans. A startled noise erupts from your throat as a large hand slides into the front of your pants, cupping your crotch. You buck into his touch, all sense dissipating from your thoughts as you fervently grind into his heated palm. There’s a clutter of paper and office supplies as they hit the floor. Before you know it, you’re rising from the chair, your ass landing on the wooden desk instead.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking hot,” Professor Bakugou grits. Your ass is barely on the desk by the time he’s done dragging you forward, your jeans aggressively getting yanked off, your underwear following suit. Your thighs instinctively snap shut at the cold air making contact with your bared skin, but strong hands pry them apart, fingertips kneading into the flesh. “I wanna make you cum with my tongue.”

“Wai- Ah! Fuck!” you cry out, your fingers clutching onto the edge of the desk as his head ducks down, his mouth latching onto your sex. Until now, you weren’t even aware that you were dripping with arousal. Sinful noises spill from between your legs as Professor Bakugou fucks you with his mouth, his lips wrapping around your most sensitive parts.

“God, you’re such a slut.”

Smack.

You cry out as he brings a hand down on the innermost part of your thigh; your nerves quake, your blood pumps wildly through your veins. Again, he slaps your thigh, a growl tearing itself from his chest as he looks up, his eyes catching yours.

“Say it.”

Smack.

“I – I’m a slut,” you babble, tongue feeling heavy in your mouth.

Smack.

“What was that?”

“I said I’m a slut!” you exclaim, voice cracking.

“I expect you to refer to me properly,” he says darkly, his pupils dilating to the point where you could barely see his irises. “Got it?”

“Yes, sir.”

A single smirk is thrown your way before his mouth is back on you, his tongue lapping up your arousal. His moves are quick, sensual. It’s clear he’s experienced, and you don’t blame him. Just look at him for Christ’s sake. The man is basically sex on legs, all nicely wrapped up in a turtleneck sweater and a simple pair of slacks. The pleasure only heightens as his fingers come into play, prodding at your hole; the tips just barely push past the muscle, leaving you moaning even louder and clutching harder on the desk. Your fingernails scratch the surface, the lacquer coming off.

“Tasty little brat, aren’t ya?” he drawls. Your entire body jolts as he spits on your sex. “I could get used to doing this.”

“Please, sir,” you plead, desperation filling your voice. You want his mouth back on you. You want to cum. “Please, it feels so good…”

Professor Bakugou clicks his tongue. “Shit, you’re even obedient. How nice.” He redoubles his efforts, then, wet noises filling the room along with your heavy breathing.

“Shit, shit, oh my god,” you babble, your body tensing. Still, his tongue digs in just right and there goes your sanity, flying out the window as you cum.

A deep chuckle fills your ears as Professor Bakugou sucks it down; drawing away, he flashes you his tongue, your arousal coating his tongue before he makes a show of swallowing the last bit of it. Wiping his mouth off with the back of his hand, he draws to a stand. The tent in his slacks is obvious, the front of it darker than the rest. Your insides squeeze around nothing, the idea of making him get like that making you feel hotter than before.

You’re hypnotized as he pulls his hands away. His movements are slow and methodical, the clink of his belt echoing throughout the room. Swallowing thickly, you bite your lip as he leisurely undoes his belt and slacks. Blood rushes through your ears, your mind a complete mess. You feel dizzy with want, with the need to sink your teeth into the swell of his pectoral, to claw the plains of his back.

All the air is sucked from your lungs when he finally pulls his cock out, the head flushed a deep red. Your eyes trail over the prominent veins, the fat bead of precum pushing its way out the tip. Fuck, he’s huge, both in length and girth. Whoever told Mina that he was big wasn’t lying. Your legs subconsciously spread even wider, a silent plead for him to fill you up and fuck you raw.

“Tell me you want this,” he husks. He does the honor of unzipping your coat and slipping it off your shoulders before easing you onto your back. The cold from the wood permeates through your shirt, brings a new wave of goosebumps to your flesh.

“Only if you tell me the same thing,” you croak. “Do you fuck all of your students who walk in through that door?”

“No,” Professor Bakugou blatantly says, and you can tell he’s being earnest. “It’s wrong of me to think so, but I’ve been wanting to do something with you since I saw you. It sounds like some sappy bullshit, but it’s the truth. I was too much of a pussy to ask you out for a coffee.”

Something about hearing him confess his feelings to you sets your heart alight. A slight smile tugs at your lips. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

“Tch. And you’re a fucking brat.”

Hunching over you, a large hand plants itself by your head while the other guides his cock to your awaiting hole. A shaky breath passes through your mouth as he pushes himself in; the stretch burns, his thick cock filling you up in a way that you didn’t even know was possible.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” he breathes. “Look at you, sucking in my cock like that. What a good little slut. I bet you’ve been waiting for this, haven’t you? I bet you touched yourself while thinking about this very moment, about me fucking you on my desk like this.” A surprised squeak bursts from your throat as he grabs your legs and throws him over his shoulders, effectively bending you in half. “Gotta fuck you nice and deep, right? Because that’s how a slut like you likes it.”

Like this, with your knees almost touching your ears, the tip of his cock hits your soft spot. A pathetic whimper comes from you as he grinds his cock into you, his eyes carefully watching your erotic expressions, figuring out what you like best.

Before long, he’s fucking into with vigor, his hips moving restlessly. His cock pounds into you mercilessly, the slap of skin against skin mixing with your cries. His mouth is at your throat, teeth skimming your jugular before he latches onto your thundering pulse. You helplessly claw at his shoulders, your fingers bunching into the fabric of his shirt. You’re so fucking full, your velvety walls clamping around his cock selfishly. A blend of curses and yes, fuck, you fucking slut fill your ears; he’s panting hard, a slight chuckle breaking through every once in a while.

“Fucking let everyone know who’s fucking you this good,” he grits. “Jesus, look at the mess you’re making…”

“Professor Bakugou!” you whine. “Your cock feels so good… Fuck, fuck, oh my god, yes-“

“Katsuki. My name is Katsuki.”

Katuski.

The name rolls around your brain like a loose bolt. It settles on the tip of your tongue, just waiting to be let out.

It’s when you cum that you shout his name, your walls tightening around him harshly while your nails dig into the meat of his shoulders. A load groan rumbles from the depths of his chest as he follows suit shortly after, his hips moving erratically as his cum splashes against your insides.

The both of you are sweating, panting messes by the time he finally pulls out. You whimper as you clench around nothing, the emptiness a bit too much to bear. Surprisingly, Professor Bakugou – no, Katsuki – is gentle as he cleans you up, his free hand rubbing your side. Swallowing your pride, you clear your throat.

His eyes flick up, land on yours. “What.”

“Do you…” You worry your bottom lip. “Do you want to get coffee sometime?”

Katsuki snorts. “Wow, got a real fucking charmer here, don’t I? How about you come to my place instead and I make you a proper dinner. You didn’t eat yet, did you?”

As if on cue, your stomach growls. Well, you did deny Mina’s offer for dinner, after all. You smile nervously and give him a shrug.

Chest swelling (with pride, you assume), Katsuki flashes you a cocky smile. “I’m a damn good cook, brat. I’ll cook a meal that will have you weak in the knees.”

“Maybe… Maybe you could finally show me how to do that problem?” you offer.

He rolls his eyes. “Will you finally pay attention this time or will I have to pound it into your brain?”

[morganaspendragonss]

quédate un segundo más (1/8)

@911lonestarangstweek day 8 - t is for...tumour, terminal, treatment

title from voy a quedarme by blas cantó, translates roughly to 'stay a second more'

thanks to @halsteadmarchs and @tarlos-spain for the beta!

as shown above, this will be eight chapters if all goes to plan, and i hope to finish it before season 3 begins. much of what is written both in this chapter and in future ones is ripped directly from life and i am only writing from my own perspective and experiences of losing a loved one to cancer.

ao3 | 1.6k | angst, hurt tk, cancer, terminal illness, more warnings to come in future chapters

A rare genetic mutation.

That’s what the doctors tell him when the results come back.

A rare genetic mutation that has rendered his cancer practically undetectable until its latest stages, until all that’s left to do is wait to die.

TK’s hands shake as various leaflets on Managing Your Diagnosis and What To Expect and Looking After Someone With Cancer are placed in them. He feels two steps to the side of himself, his entire world halting in its tracks the moment those words had left the doctor’s lips.

“I’m afraid it’s not good news,” he’d said, eyes wide and empathetic. “Your scans and blood results have come back showing evidence of a tumour on your pancreas. There are treatment options which we can and will—with your consent—pursue, however I have to inform you that your cancer is entering stage IV. It has begun to spread to your bladder and liver. I’m sorry to say that, at this point, treatment is more focused on managing your pain and making you as comfortable as possible; we do not anticipate recovery.”

It’s just… TK’s fine. He feels fine. Like, sure, he’s been a little more tired recently and he’s been getting these weird pains, but they always fade after a while, and he’s fine.

But he couldn’t deny the blood spotting his pee, the last straw which had finally sent him to the doctor’s office.

Too late, apparently.

A touch on his knee brings him back to reality with a start. TK looks up to meet the doctor’s kind gaze, and he wants to cry.

“I understand this is a lot to take in,” he’s saying. “If you have any questions, please ask.”

“I…” TK shakes his head, swallowing a couple of times before dropping his eyes to his knees, the words on the pamphlets blurred through his tears. “How long?”

The doctor hesitates a moment, then sighs regretfully. “I can’t say for certain. People frequently outlive their projected timeframes; equally, it could be less. However, given the way your tumour looks and the rate it appears to be spreading at, I would estimate around six months.”

Six months.

Six—six months.

“Oh,” TK says, and it feels wildly insufficient but it’s all he has. What even is there to say? He’s dying, and that’s...that’s that.

“Do you have a support system in place?” the doctor asks. “This is going to be a difficult process, and you are going to need other people to help you through it.”

TK nods slowly, not looking up. “M-My husband. Carlos. He was supposed to come with me today but he was called into work last minute. He’s a detective, so he couldn’t exactly refuse—not that that stopped him from trying.” He laughs wetly, remembering how he’d insisted that everything would be fine when Carlos had stalled leaving this morning. “And there’s my dad, and my team—my family. I’m a paramedic and I work in a fire station, so we’re all pretty close. I… Shit, I’m sorry. You don’t need to know all this.”

“It’s okay.” The doctor is still smiling, still so understanding, and TK wonders—just how many times has he had to do this? “I’m glad to hear you have solid support behind you; that’s going to be incredibly important for the coming months. I’ve also given you a few leaflets about support groups you can access, that your family can access, and, of course, your treatment team will be there every step of the way.

“Now,” he continues, returning to a semi-professional aspect, “I want to see you later this week to iron out how we’re going to proceed. For now, why don’t you go home and rest, allow yourself to process this? Does Friday at 10.30 work for your next appointment?”

TK nods absently, clutching the pamphlets tight enough to crease them. “That’s fine,” he whispers.

“Okay,” the doctor says, just as quiet. “Are you going to be okay to get home?”

“Yeah.”

But he doesn’t move. He can’t. In this room, he’s separated from the rest of the world—TK doesn’t want to go back into it, where he’ll have to tell everyone he loves that he’s… That he…

“TK.”

TK’s head snaps up at the doctor’s voice and he flushes a little at seeing his pointed look. “Sorry,” he mutters, scrambling to stand up.

The doctor stands too, much more gracefully than TK, and gets the door for him. “It’s okay. I’ll see you on Friday, TK, alright?”

He mumbles an affirmative then steps out of the office, taken aback for a moment by the bustle and noise in the corridor. It’s strange to witness it now, to see all these people who don’t know him from Adam going about their lives, while his has, in the span of thirty minutes, completely crumbled.

TK takes a deep breath (and how many of those does he have left?) and joins the flow.

*

He’s home.

That’s… He doesn’t remember it. He must have unlocked the front door because the keys are in his hand and he’s standing in the entryway, but TK has no idea how he managed to get from the doctor’s office to here.

He made good time though, judging by the clock on the wall.

Small victories.

With heavy steps, TK walks to the sofa, easing himself down and tipping his head back to stare at the ceiling. It still doesn’t feel real that there's this—this thing inside him, growing and mutating and killing him. He’s not sure when it finally will.

Maybe in a few months, when his skin is sagging off his bones and his hair is gone and even the very act of breathing is a challenge.

Or maybe in a few hours, when Carlos comes home and TK has to break the news. TK can picture his face now, the way his ever-present smile will crack and break, the shock and hurt and grief that will take its place.

He thinks he understands his dad now.

TK closes his eyes and tries to clear his mind, just for a moment, of everything that’s happened today.

Which, as it turns out, is a mistake, because that’s when he remembers the letter that came for them yesterday and the phone call they’re going to make after dinner.

The phone call they were going to make after dinner.

TK wants to scream at the unfairness of it all. They’ve been waiting for that moment for so long, the moment in which they found out they were finally cleared to adopt a kid. And now…

Gone.

Carlos is going to be crushed.

As if the universe is reacting to that last thought, the door suddenly swings open, marking Carlos’s return from his impromptu shift. For a moment, TK panics. He’s not ready, dammit, he needs more time to plan and to figure it all out, how he feels and what he’s going to say, but—

But, in the end, it doesn’t matter. He could have had the most detailed and well-thought out plan in the world and it wouldn’t have mattered.

Because all it takes is one look at Carlos’s smile for TK to fall apart.

Carlos is by his side in an instant, gathering him in his arms and sliding to the floor with him when TK can no longer support himself on the couch. TK fists his hands in his husband’s shirt and cries into his neck, all the emotion that’s been slowly building all day exploding from him all at once.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Carlos shushes, which only makes TK cry harder, because how is he supposed to tell him that it’s not?

He shakes his head and clings onto him tighter, feeling Carlos do the same to him in return. TK’s always felt safe in his arms and it’s no different now; he thinks that, if he can just stay here forever, maybe things will turn out okay after all.

But the moment ends, as they tend to do. When TK’s sobs have run dry, Carlos carefully pulls back from him, his hands rising to cup his face and wipe the tears from his cheeks.

“Babe, what’s wrong?” he asks softly, so much worry in those damn eyes that it hurts. “Is it… Did the doctor say something? Are you okay?”

TK opens his mouth, but the words refuse to come out. All he manages is a wordless shake of the head, and even that turns Carlos’s expression into the picture of devastation. He can’t bear to look at it, so he wraps his arms around Carlos’s waist and leans into him again, resting his head on his chest.

Carlos holds him and presses a kiss to the top of his head. “We’ll get through it,” he promises. “Whatever it takes.”

And it turns out that he does have a few more tears left in him; TK squeezes his eyes shut and breathes out shakily as a couple of lone drops fall down his cheeks. “We can’t,” he whispers hoarsely. Carlos stiffens and shifts as if to look TK in the eyes, but TK doesn’t let him. If he has to look at Carlos, he doesn’t think he’ll have the courage to say it. He hesitates a moment longer, a huge lump forming in his throat, but eventually he manages it.

“It’s cancer,” he chokes out. “Stage IV. Incurable. They think… I’ve got six months.”

It’s like time stops.

They’re both motionless on the floor of their front room, neither saying anything, barely breathing as the weight of it settles between them.

TK doesn’t know how long it lasts for, but suddenly Carlos sobs and grips onto him with a bruising strength. Carlos’s body heaves and shakes with the force of his cries, and it’s TK’s turn to hold him as tears drip down Carlos’s cheeks into his hair.

And, in that moment, it becomes real.

[malfoys-demigod]

"I guess this is a lesson in not trusting people”

Draco Malfoy x Reader

Requested by @potatothingsz​

-> Hiii! I am a big fan of you honestlyyy eee i have read almost every blog of yours (mainly dracos-) anyway! I was wondering if you are open for requests rn? If not totally understand! But if you are tho i hope i can request one? Its a draco x reader one the story goes that draco is fighting with (whatever guy in hp) the reason is that the random guy basically have a crush on you (y/n is dating draco) then draco gets arrogant about it then y/n hears it then they fight cuz of things draco said!Gb!

Word Count: 3.6k 

A/N: I hope you enjoyed this! 

tag list @the--queen-of-hell​ @bbeauttyybbx​

“And that’s how my parents met the headmaster of Ilvermorny School, all the way in America!” Pansy excitingly shared the news with you and Daphne by the Great Hall. 

“How excellent, Pansy,” you said, interested in the conversation, “You should definitely tell your parents to bring you next time.”

“Oh my gosh,” Daphne said, sounding so surprised, “It’s only a week before holiday starts! Why don’t you ask them to spend the holidays with you over there? Wouldn’t an American holiday sound fantastic to you?”

“I second that,” you agreed, “Pansy, you would have the most exciting trip ever!”

Pansy liked the idea of spending the holidays in America, so she smiled, grinning as if it was a mischievous plan. “That is such a smart idea, who knows, I could return from the holiday’s with an American boyfriend!” 

“You wish,” you teased, lightly nudging her shoulder. 

Before Pansy could come back with a funny remark, Blaise bursted into the Great Hall, causing many eyes to look at him as he was running towards the three of you. He seemed terrified out of his life, as there was fear in his eyes, which was something you’ve barely seen from him. He was such a relaxed and reserved person most of the time, so acting like this without caring if people now paid attention to him was a first. 

He placed his hands on your shoulders, huffing and puffing breath. 

“What’s troubling you, Blaise?” you placed a hand on his hand, sounding deeply concerned. 

He was still huffing and puffing when he said, “Malfoy. Fight. Outside. Now.” 

It was like this new, uplifting energy came out of nowhere when you immediately stood up from the table and started dashing out of the Great Hall, along with your friends who followed behind. 

There were so many thoughts madly entering your mind, swimming around and suggesting the most horrid reasons as to why Draco was involved in a fight. You were very much aware that he liked making dramatic debates and conversations with practically much everyone at school. But to make a huge scene that caused Blaise to briefly trouble you to stop what you were doing was something petrifying to experience. 

Mindlessly, you made several turns around the castle, following Blaise, who had quickly followed your pace, guiding you to the crowd by the outskirts of the castle. It was by the balcony which gave a side perspective of the vast body of water which Viktor Krum and his school used to travel by ship. 

It was about time when you were faced with your boyfriend, Draco Malfoy, involving himself in a serious and intense magic and physical battle with Cormac McLaggen, a Gryffindor who was in the year above you. 

They have seemed to be quite in focus with the fight, ignoring the crowd’s chants and cheers. Honestly, one thing to be quite disappointed in at some point were the people’s reactions and follow-ups when it came to witnessing fights. There were crowds that would stop and call for help, and there were crowds that would watch the fight as if it was pure entertainment. 

You were given the crowd that would watch the fight as if it was pure entertainment, saldy. 

Since there was so much going through your mind, without thinking, you jumped into the middle of the fight, hoping you wouldn’t be hit with a spell or a fist fight. 

“Enough!” you yelled, raising both your hands to the side, for both opponents to see. They terrifyingly lowered their wands, looking around the crowd, agitated with the eyes around them. 

Once they had your attention, you angrily heaved a breath out of your system, which resulted from the start of a massive headache. You heatedly walked to the side your boyfriend was standing by and threw out your hands hysterically. 

“What the bloody hell is going on, Draco!” 

He did not reply, as he remained silent. He began looking down at the ground with disappointment and struggle in his face, realizing the damage he had placed himself. He was breathing in and out, holding his wand tightly with such distress in his grip. 

You absolutely did not have the luxury to receive more silent treatment from him, for you were enraged and impatient with the silence. You rolled your eyes with such fury, “Explain, dammit!” 

From the other side of the paused, rather ended battle, Cormac showed a condoling facial expression, which made him slowly walk to the other side, where you and Draco were standing by. He placed a hand on your shoulder, which caused you to briskly turn around. 

He then placed a hand on his chest and said, “I believe I am at fault, Y/N.” he suggested, “He must have overheard me telling my friends how I fancied you and got distressed about it. I should have tried to reason with him more because if I did, we wouldn’t have had this fight. I’m sorry.”

You felt pity for Cormac, which caused you to shake your head in disagreement. ‘No,’ you mouthed to him. Disappointed in Draco, you sighed with such upset in your voice that when you turned to him with such a let down on your face, you said, “Bloody hell, Draco, he was the slightest threat you have encountered in your life. You are a foolish person for wanting to start a fight which is considered by everyone with the right mind to be useless. Damn you, Draco.”

Draco stressly placed the palms of his hands on his temples, placing pressure on it, “Y/N, I saw him as a potential threat to our relationship. I thought showing him that you were mine would be able to keep him from destroying our relationship, what we have together!”

You disgracefully shook your head upon hearing the madness he called for an excuse. “Unbelievable, Draco.” You looked back to Cormac with a sympathetic look on your face, “First of all Cormac, you are not at fault here,” which he gave a small, hesitant nod as response. 

Then you pathetically turned back to Draco, “As for you, Draco Malfoy, you are in every way in the wrong. You’re the one who destroyed our relationship. That was certainly not the way to show him that I was yours. This made me rethink if the need to do that was even necessary! How could you possibly see him as a threat when you know I’m in love with you? I guess this is a lesson in not trusting your significant other, right? Because it seems like I guess I’ve never been a trustworthy person, especially concerning what we have together.”

Draco rolled his head in frustration and annoyance. He scoffed, “Please, don’t say that Y/N, you’re making me seem like the bad person here.”

You scoffed back, but with much anger, “But you are,” you coldy replied. Without thinking, you announced, “Consider us on a break, Draco Malfoy. Don’t bother owling me during the holidays. It’ll be nothing but a waste of parchments on your end.” 

Finished with the debate you had with Draco, you gracefully turned around and placed a hand on Cormac’s shoulder, “Very sorry, Cormac. I still hope you have a lovely holiday despite this.” With a small nod from the older boy, it was your cue. 

You turned around, walking away from the scene without thinking of the glares and whispers surrounding you. They were nothing but an audience with no respect whatsoever. Gossip all they want, they’ve got the scoop anyways. 

—

You walked among the glaring eyes around you, trying to find a suitable cart to occupy. Surely in most situations, you would be happy to sit anywhere. But many would be really uncomfortable to be sitting around the talk of the town, which meant that they couldn’t use you as a conversation starter while they commuted back to the platform. 

Thank goodness for Pansy and Daphne, who you found, securing you an empty cart amidst many occupied and packed carts between yours. 

“Hey, Y/N,” Pansy warmly greeted you, helping you place your bags up on the rack. 

“I got it thanks,” you told her, pushing your bags with strength. 

You plopped down, sitting between the two girls, who looked like they weren’t sure of what to talk about since the travel back to the platform would take awhile. Daphne was playing with her fingers, while Pansy was trying to get Daphne to look up and mouth a conversation.

These girls were the absolute worst in trying to make things discreet but they happened to be attempting to converse with you in the most normal way, without thinking of bringing up anything Draco related. 

“Anytime this week would be lovely, girls.” 

“Wh-what?” Pansy let out an exposed laugh, “What do you possibly mean, Y/N?”

“Come on,” you rolled your head, “Can’t think of making things normal without happening to mention or bring up Draco and my whole outburst in school?”

You checked the two girls, who were cheekily smiling with such guilt on their faces. You chuckled, standing up to move to the other side of the cart, to sit, facing in front of them. 

“You two are the silliest,” you crossed your arms with a comfortable look on your face, “I’m not made out of glass, fools. Come on, the worst things could happen to me.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Daphne cooled down, sighing a relief, “We were just being extra concerned that’s all.”

“And of course…” Pansy seemed to have a hard time continuing the sentence for a second as she tilted her head, mumbling the name ‘Draco’, as she continued, “Most likely isn’t taking it well. We haven’t seen or checked up on him, just to let you know!” she promised, waving her arms out, hoping you wouldn’t bust. 

Daphne nudged Pansy’s shoulder, looking at her with an angry look, “You said you wouldn’t mention him! The hell is wrong with you?”

“Me? She said it was alright!” Pansy revolted in annoyance. 

“Take it easy, you two,” you warned them. “You two are making things even more weird, and I’m just sitting here telling you not to look at me as fragile!”

“Right, sorry,” they both said embarrassingly. 

“I just want to let you two know that this whole holiday of mine will be definitely a time for me to invigorate and rejuvenate on my everyday perspectives. I do not know what my parents have in store for this holiday but either way, I am going to throw this whole year away and focus on building for next year, especially when we come back from holiday.”

“That’s brilliant, Y/N! How magnificent, we will definitely be there to support you through owling you every day.” 

You sorrily tilted your head with an open mouth, “Well I’m going to have to ask you the same I warned Draco about.”

“You’re saving us from wasting parchment.”

“I’m sorry, I just think, in order to focus on fixing myself, I-”

“Hey,” Pansy said, as both her and Daphne switched to the other side to sit beside you, “We get it, Y/N and we cannot wait to see you once the break ends.”

“One last group hug before we go our separate ways for a little while?”

--

In the cart that Draco occupied, it was a whole different energy. 

During the first part of the ride back to the platform, Draco did not care about searching for an empty cart, or relying on friends. All he did was present a short, cold glare in front of first years, who willingly stood up and rushed out, forgetting that they were about to give away their seats to a couple of older Slytherins. 

“Slow gits,” Draco muttered, swimming in his way into the cart as he threw his bag up into the rack without care and depressingly jumped on the seat by the view, which he used to ponder and stare with such a sigh coming from his mouth. 

“Chill down mate,” Blaise had the guts, kindly warning his friend, who he sat beside. 

Blaise was surprised when Draco calmly replied with, “Whatever, Zabini. I’m calm.”

Given this, he decided to take the advantage and reason out with him. He moved around his seat, trying to shift somewhat nearer to him. “You clearly aren’t. I reckon it’s going to rain over your whole holiday at home.”

“It won’t.” Draco gritted his teeth. 

Blaise clasped his hands, shaking his head once, “How do you personally feel about the whole situation, mate?”

Draco looked at him with sore eyes and quickly jumped and leaned exaggeratingly, “Me? Personally? I-” then he turned his body around, facing the entire wall with the window, “Forget it. I don’t have time for this girl-talk.”

--

There was a small suggestion of fear in your mind because there was always a possibility of bumping into Draco thanks to the many gatherings your parents were invited to. It would have been extremely discomposing to see the boy you had called ‘breaks’ on before the holiday started. It would make things more complicated to remember that there were more adults than children in these parties, making it more difficult to find people to converse with. 

Luckily, your parents surprisingly cancelled their parties, wanting to spend time with you more. They weren’t cruel or always self-centered, but they were very social when it came to gatherings and mingling with other wizards. So, hearing about this really felt like Merlin was on your side this year. 

With the opportunity to tune out from the outside world, staying at home really made things easier to recollect yourself in these struggling times. 

There was absolutely no distraction from anyone, giving you time to think about Draco. 

It may have been advantageous to give yourself a break from the relationship. Draco, as you obviously know, can be very outspoken. He is the kind of person who wouldn’t be scared to speak up and share his thoughts in any way possible. 

He was a head-strong person, the kind of guy that would really go out of his way to execute whatever he felt like doing. 

What he did for you was… out of hand yes, but when you think about it, he was thinking about you. As a person who isn’t afraid of fighting for honor and the truth, he just couldn’t help himself and protect your relationship. 

Maybe he could have thought things through and settled his issue with Cormac in a more lighter attempt, but if you step into his shoes, you were being Draco Malfoy. He did not want to use the luxury of time and think things through. He was the person who would do it before thinking. 

Plus, he may or may not have anger issues, especially when it came to other boys concerning you. A simple talk about you behind his back would really be an issue for him. The least mess he can do is brag about you if they decided to talk about you when he’s nearby. 

Huh, you actually chuckled at that last thought. Whether what Draco did was right or wrong, he did love you and what he did was for you. Maybe you were a bit harsh on him, but that’s the thing, all of these trace back to love. 

Maybe you thought that he didn’t trust you enough, maybe you were just blinded by so many things. 

It was probably right to give Draco another chance when the holiday ended.

When it did, you had a clear conscience as you were making your way back into one of your favorite places: The Slytherin Common Room. Nothing felt like home than going back to the best common room ever. The weather was still cool, so being around the fireplace was a great idea to warm up. 

Someone had already beaten you to it, though. Walking past with your luggage, your eyes darted towards a platinum blonde hair, resting by the cushions of the sofa by the fireplace. Being curious, you slowly brought your luggage with you, calmly walking towards the sofa. You peeked in, seeing a sleeping Draco Malfoy. 

He seemed to look extremely comfortable with himself. He was wearing a green jumper with a cup of hot chocolate by the coffee table. Had he stayed here all along throughout the holiday? 

To answer your question, Draco’s eyes suddenly fluttered open. His grey eyes were looking at the ceiling for a minute. Still standing there, his eyes now moved towards you. You could see the extreme tiredness in his eyes. A lot could be said by his eyes, aside from tiredness. 

There were dark circles surrounding his eyes. They could be as dark as half-wahed eyeliner kind of dark. It was awful, he must have shed bitter tears that went on for hours. You could see a hint of pink in his eyes, meaning he did recently cry. 

The two of you had a staring contest, as Draco continued looking at you, but as if you were just a dream. You could tell by the way his eyes were narrow, looking half-asleep. You decided that it was time to break the staring contest and be the first to take action. 

To test if he was half-asleep, you dropped your luggage, creating a big ‘thug’ sound, and moved around the sofa, to which he responded by having his eyes follow you. You made your final stop when you stood in front of the ends of the sofa, where his feet were dangling off. 

To your surprise, he lifted his feet, wanting you to sit on the sofa. You didn’t want to keep him waiting, so you quickly sat yourself on the sofa, having his feet, covered in green and red socks rest on your lap. Your eyes moved from the color of his socks to his grey eyes, as he was still looking at you. 

“I’m sorry,” you said, placing a hand on his ankle. You held on his ankle, tightening your grip as you looked at him with sympathy. You looked down immediately, feeling embarrassed and uneasy.

Draco sat up rapidly, removing his feet from your lap as he decided to place himself sitting beside you. His lower body was facing the fireplace, but his upper body was twisted, looking at you with full attention. 

He placed his finger on your chin, causing you to look at his worn-out, grey eyes. “No,” he shook his head, “Merlin knows that it should be me saying that. You know that.” 

His soft, post-crying voice wanted to melt or shatter your heart, making you frown in front of him. “What I do know is that I went too far in scolding you. It was wrong of me.” 

“The amount of scolding was enough for me to realize the immature actions and misfortunes that I have caused. Without you, I wouldn’t be able to realize how much of a childish git I am.” He took your hands slowly, bringing them to him with such a feeling in his heart. “I can’t ask you to forgive me because I’m embarrassed of myself. You deserve so much more than what I offer as a partner. Please do whatever you think is right for yourself before hearts shatter even more.”

Your heart felt like dropping from the sky, collapsing in a pool full of sorrow after hearing those words come out of Draco’s mouth. Was he allowing you to break up with him? What could he possibly mean? There was absolutely no way he could let you do that. He was being out of his mind. 

You let go of him holding your hands, to which his eyes widened to, only for you to wrap yourself around him, tightly and strongly embracing him with such love in your body. “Are you out of your mind? We can get through this, Draco. Leaving you after this would show that our love for each other would never be strong as I hoped to imagine. I’m staying with you because we have so much in store for each other. This is merely a minor bump in this journey you and I walk on.”

You could feel Draco let out a small sob from his eyes as he hugged you back, trying to squeeze and restrain himself from continuing to cry even more. “I love you.” was what he tried muttering without sounding like he was going to break down. 

You nodded, wanting to join his crying session should he stop holding himself from. “I love you more than you know it.” 

He slowly pulled himself from you, looking away from you. He stood up, causing you to raise an eyebrow. 

“What’s the matter?”

“I know you said I’d be wasting parchments,” he replied, removing something from his sling bag, which was by the other end of the sofa, “But I wrote you letters that I ended up keeping during the holiday.” 

He brought back with him a thick load of envelopes, ribboned with a green ribbon. He looked at you with a warm smile and handed it to you, “I give you the honor of burning it.” 

You scoffed, “Burn it? I’d love to see what you were yearning for while you wrote this.” you teased him. 

Draco felt a hint of embarrassment in his eyes as he tried grabbing it back from you. You sneakily pulled it away from him, “Uh, uh, uh” you waved your finger. 

Draco smirked, jumping on you as he continued to attempt getting the letters from you. This caused the both of you to fall from the sofa and the day continued as the two of you fought on the ground, trying to play like childish children, ignoring the other students arriving in the common room. 

Looks like news would spread that love is in the air again as the power couple is back on track with their relationship. 

[vegalocity]

Secret kisses and Touching 2, 14, 22, 23, and 44. Secret Silktea relationship, except both spider fam and Monkey fam actually know! Half of them don’t care enough to say anything (Pigsy,Tang,Spider Queen,Wukong,Syntax) while the other half wants them to reveal it when they’re ready (Min Yi,MK,Mei,Goliath,Sis) - Pixel Anon

Affection meme

49. secret kisses

2. running fingers through hair

14.putting an arm around the other’s waist

22.falling asleep on the other’s shoulder

23. carrying the other one in their arms

44.sitting on the other’s lap

this took me forever to put together because for some ungodly reason i couldn't figure out the scenario

so i decided on a little vignette compilation of sorts

--

They knew what they were doing.

Of course they knew what they were doing. It was in either of their best interests to keep this a secret. Just because the clan had stopped their crusade to take over the city and their queen had dialed down the ‘revenge’ ideas, didn’t mean there wasn’t still bad blood between his clan and Sandy’s family.

And it wasn’t too difficult, it just meant that when they were all working together for some greater threat or whatever that they’d have to be sneaky. It was easy stealth was one of Huntsman’s greatest Attributes and suspecting Blue of anything was like suspecting a small dog of knocking over a bulldozer.

It wasn’t too hard to simply keep their hands to themselves. Or at least, it wasn’t hard for Sandy, Huntsman was quickly finding his self control lacking in regard to being in such a situation with his… well, with him. But could anyone blame him? Blue was more or less the hottest guy he’d ever ran into before and he was kinda-sorta DATING him! How could he not want to climb that like a tree at all times?

Especially when he was always being so stupidly fucking charming. Sure the ‘needlessly nice’ stuff wasn’t something he particularly appreciated, but it was starting to grow on him, if only on the amount of restraint he must have to keep it up all the time.

Soooo yeah maybe he was purposefully pushing their luck a little, but in his defense he wanted to see how much desire based frustration it would take before ol’ Blue would just pin him against a wall and make him regret wondering.

--

Syntax had shooed him away from being a nuisance at his worktable, so naturally, Huntsman had to go be a nuisance at someone else’s worktable. Thankfully Sandy was far more agreeable to the company, and thankfully the bid of ‘Bugging Syntax first’ kept his alibi solid. He wasn’t just going over to see Blue he just wanted to be a louse and his normal target had already locked him out of his room. And so nobody really suspected anything when he started to peer over Sandy’s side to watch him tighten this or that thing on this or that device.

And it was pretty damn fun to see just how much of a ‘nuisance’ he could be. This particular bout resulting ih Huntsman being pressed against the car engine Blue had been working on, feeling the orange hair slide between his claws and messing up the stylized mohawk and shuddering when he felt those huge hands almost entirely encompass either of his thighs while keeping him aloft. He hissed through his teeth as he felt Blue give one of his legs a testing squeeze and rolled his hips forward a bit-

“Fish Demon? I need to get another set of eyes on these schematics or I'll actually go insane.” By the time Syntax looked up from his clipboard Sandy was working on the engine again and Huntsman was leaning against his work area and had barely had the opening to whip out one of his knives and his portable sharpener.

Though Sandy’s hair was unable to be fixed and fell to a side as he smiled at Syntax and took the offered blueprints from him.

--

He wasn’t a big fan of those domestic snatches of time, he wasn’t.

It was mostly an instinctual response, Spiders were pack bonders, so of course when his internal senses started categorizing Sandy as ‘pack’ then he’d relax without intending to while being pulled in with a hand on his waist.

Which was definitely the reason why he was curled up to Sandy’s side, the cool slick feeling of his scales strange against his more leather-like skin. That stupid instinct was the only real reason why he felt so comfortable and like he could practically fall asleep like this.

He felt Blue’s hand gently start running up and down his side and dammit that wasn’t playing fair, it wasn’t his fault that he had been having sleeping problems lately and was rapidly getting drowsy.

He could feel Blue’s hum as the world started to drift away-

“Hey Sandy what do you think- Uhhhh”

“Oh, hello Xiaotian.”

“You know you’ve got a spider on you, right?”

“Oh yeah, Looked like he was having some paranoia problems, took a bit of wheedling to get out but Huntsman here was up for like four days straight ‘till now!”

“Did… Did you slip him your sleepy tea?”

“Of course not! That would be super unethical! Also I'm pretty sure he’s still semi conscious and passively listening without any critical thought right now since he only just dozed off and would probably wake up angry if he overheard anything like that!”

“....right… so anyway-”

--

The brat knew.

Dammit he knew the brat knew. She definitely fucking knew.

He should have known better than to try anything with that Professional Snoop underfoot. But He’d had plans with Blue before having to get stuck with the brat tonight because the Queen needed Syntax’s expertise and the Sister was on shift at work and Goliath already had plans doing who knows what, and he was stuck with Minyi since he ‘didn’t have any plans’

He’d dragged his feet on the idea of cancelling with Blue, but he’d fucking done it so nobody could say he didn’t contribute to the upkeep of their clan’s youngest. It was just his luck that Sandy had been fine with coming over instead, and the brat had overheard some of the conversation and got excited about ‘Mr Sandy’ coming over to visit. The brat had insisted on stringing some of her fake flowers into his hair before he arrived, after dubbing him ‘suitably pretty’ (her words) she’d done up her own hair as similarly as she could because he certainly wasn’t helping her with her weird pre-’company is coming’ rituals.

And… Blue was a hit with the brat. He had an infinite amount of patience for the inane childish babbling, stooped low so she could string the remaining fake flowers in her possession (why did she have so many fake flowers?) into his beard, and offered to fix dinner for the lot of them (which was for the best since the brat was such a picky eater she could barely stomach some of his specialties)

And… he was not jealous of a six year old for how she was able to crawl into Blue’s lap while the lot of them watched some inane mystery show for the character drama alone since the brat called and explained the mystery within the first three minutes.

Blue was a bit awkward on the sofa, it made sense, Goliath would normally sit on the floor for how the height and width of the couch was not designed with bigger demons in mind, and Blue was considerably bigger than Goliath. So while the brat was cozy as could be in the place of honor, Huntsman was stuck perched on the arm of the couch as to not be crushed into it trying to squeeze in beside Blue.

Not that that would be a wholly unpleasant experience, but the presence of the brat made it go from tempting to awkward. Nonetheless, part of Sandy trying to get comfortable had included one of his arms resting on the back of the couch, and while it seemed the brat wasn’t paying attention, it slid down to wrap around his shoulders.

When the time came Minyi didn’t need to be told it was bed time for her, she loudly announced it herself, changed into her pajamas, and after saying goodnight to the both of them went on with a

“I am going to sleep now! And I will not be out of my room until morning so if anything were to be happening I certainly won’t know it, because I will be asleep.”

She smiled widely at Huntsman and closed her door.

Nosey little brat.

--

Tang huffed a quiet laugh as Sandy gingerly began to lift Huntsman into the air, his broken leg not quite able to be splinted just yet, let alone looked at properly. It seemed the lot of them had suffered some pretty nasty injuries from this last threat (and no doubt it would have been worse if their team and the Spider Clan hadn’t joined forces) including Tang himself despite being on the sidelines for most of it, he was pretty sure his shoulder was dislocated, and the cut on his forehead was still sluggishly bleeding all over the right side of his face, but compared to some of the others he was basically fine.

So once He was able to pop his arm back into place (Ouch) he took to handling cleanup with the only other ‘perfectly normal person’ here, a woman maybe a few years his junior, he’d seen her every so often with the Spider Clan (or rather, with Syntax) but he didn’t know her name.

“Do you think they actually think they’re being subtle?” Her words caught his attention and he turned to glance at the woman. She was in the middle of splinting Xiaojiao’s broken wrist and at Tang’s questioning glance, she nodded at Sandy and Huntsman. Oh!

“I’m sure Sandy thinks he’s the pinnacle of subtlety” Tang responded. He was pretty sure the ‘thing’ that had developed between their friend and the most brutal of the Spider Clan was the worst kept secret on the team since Red Son had started hanging out with Xiaotian and Xiaojiao on the weekends.

“They are so cute when you just walk in on them.” Xiaojiao said around a snicker. “Like how they jump apart like when you flip a magnet over to the matching side.”

“Does your team have a betting pool? My brother organized one for the clan, and if they do anything damning within the next month i win the pot.”

“No! Ohh man we should get one started up! Hey Pigsy! You wanna make a betting Pool for Sandy and Huntsman’s secret romance?”

“Why the hell would i want to do that?”

“Finally have dirt on Sandy after decades of him never being embarrassed about anything ever?” Tang offered with a shrug.

Pigsy thought for a moment and shrugged back before going back to fussing over Xiaotian. “Sure. Who’s bettin’ what?”

--

send me stuff!

[beth-yeet365]

“We’re not finished” - bws

Pairing: Bradley Simpson x reader

Summary: you’re Tristan’s cousin and you’re as close as brother and sister. When he says that he has an extra room in his flat that he shares with his bandmate, Brad, you decide to move in... What’s the worst that could happen?

Word count: 2.1k+ 

Warnings: some alcohol consumption, Brad being forward which ight cause ome awkward situations, like one or two curse words and mention of boner ;)

Disclaimer: I don’t know if any of this is true either way it’s an imagine so don’t expect anything that’s super true... also you play drums like Tris but that is because that’s the only instrument I can play lmao and you’re 2 years younger than Tris so that makes you 3 three years younger than Brad

It all started with a facetime call with your favourite and only cousin, the one and only Tristan Evans. 

You’re moving into his flat that he also shares with his bandmate Brad. They had extra room and you have been complaining about how expensive rent is in London to live on your own and you don’t want a creepy roommate so Tris saved your ass and offered the room.

Moving in wasn’t as hard is you’d expected. Mostly because you had the other vamps helping you carry stuff to the flat. 

You of course carried some of your stuff up but not being the strongest person in the world made it pretty difficult.

You especially needed help with carrying your electric drum kit cause that shit’s heavy.

“Right, Y/N, I think you’re pretty settled in.“ Tristan said, carrying the last box into your new room. 

“Yeah, but I still need a bed to sleep in.“ You said.

“You can sleep on the sofa tonight and we’ll go to IKEA tomorrow.”

“Yeah from what we’ve witnessed from the times you’ve visited us on tour you can sleep pretty much anywhere,“ Connor started. “And definitely not as tall as Tris so you’ll fit anywhere.“ He then added, laughing as the other boys laughed at his comment.

“Ha ha, go on mock my height when you don’t have an awful lot yourself.“ You fired back, patting his shoulder. 

“She’s got you there, Con.“ Brad said to him chuckling to himself.

“Oh, you can’t talk either, Bradley.“ you told him.

“You wound me, darling.“ He acted offended and put his hand over his chest in mock hurt. 

“Hey! Don’t be flirtin’ with my baby cousin!“ Tris exclaimed jokingly.

We all laughed and decided to drink some well deserved beers after carrying all the boxes up. 

Soon enough James and Connor left to go home to their own places.

You started to unpack the boxes with your clothes and putting the closet and dresser that were already in the room. 

While unpacking your clothes you came across a small cardboard box you keep all your printed out pictures of you visiting the boys while they were on tour. You were like a sister to all of them. 

You took the pictures out of the box and looked at all of them while sat on the ground. They were all a mixture of selfies with all the boys, pictures of the places you’ve been and pictures have taken of you playing drums. All of the good memories. 

You smiled at all of them and moved to collect them and put them back in the box when a voice spoke. 

“You always look so concentrate and content.“

You looked up to see Brad leaning on the doorframe of your room, arms crossed in front of his chest.

He looked good. He always does though. 

To be honest, you’ve had a huge crush on him ever since you stepped onto the tour bus when you were 19 and he was 22. 

“Sorry, what?“ You asked in confusion. 

“When you play drums you just look concentrated but also content and happy.“ He said while pointing to the pictures of you playing, then moving to sit across from you on the floor. 

“Well playing drums is such a reliever, you know? It’s just you and the sound of the drums.“ You explained to him. 

“Yeah I get that.“ He said nodding. “It’s the same when I start singing or start playing guitar or piano.“

“It’s one of the reasons why I brought the drum kit with me just in case I get tired of you two.“ You said with a joking smile.

“Very funny, Y/N,“ He said. “Well I’m happy you brought it.“

“Why?“ You asked the curly haired boy in front of you, while you absentmindedly sifted through the pictures. 

“Because it’s hot.”

You snapped your head up to find his brown orbs staring right back into yours. 

You could feel the blood rushing to your face. 

Clearing your throat just to do anything to relive the now awkward tension in the room. 

“Where’s Tris?“ You diverted the conversation from the awkward situation from before. 

“He popped over to the shop to get something I didn’t quite catch.“ He answered and moved to stand up. 

“Oh.“ Was the only thing you could say, mentally hitting yourself. 

he was now standing up, looking down at you and offered a hand to help you stand up from the ground. You gladly took it and he practically heaves up. 

“Y/N-“

“I’m back!“ Tristan hollers from the entrance of the flat. “Where are you guys?“

“Coming!“ You shout back at him.

Dammit, Tris.

Sleeping on the sofa wasn’t as comfortable as you’d hoped. 

It was weird not being able to move freely because of the backrest on it but at least you had Jesse to cuddle you while you were on your phone. 

Jesse is Brad’s golden retriever and a national treasure to be preserved. 

She proved to be very cuddly at 1 a.m. 

You then noticed you were thirsty so you decided to get up and make some tea in the hopes that would make you sleepy enough for you to sleep after. 

You never noticed how noisy turning on a kettle was until you had to turn it on in the middle of the night where everything seems noisier. 

When the kettle boiled you found a random mug and some classic English breakfast tea in one of the cabinets. 

“You awake, too?“ A voice startled you. 

You jump in fright and turn around only to find Tris. 

“Jeez, could’ve announced your presence without scaring me.“ You tell him, putting the tea bag into your cuppa. “But yeah I’m awake how else would I be making tea?”

“Don’t get smart on me,“ he playfully scolds you. “Why you awake, though?“

“Simply couldn’t sleep.“ 

“Sucks, but now you have me to keep you up as well.“ He smiles at you and walks to the kettle making himself a cuppa. 

“Oh gee, am I supposed to be happy?“ You ask him making him roll his eyes at your questions. 

You both moved to the sofa and sat down to talk.

Late night talks with Tris were always the best especially since you were so close and therefore could talk about everything from playing drums and nerdeing about that to mental health. 

“Okay, Y/N, I have a question for you.“ He tells you making you furrow your eyebrows. He doesn’t really announce that he has a question unless it’s something or serious.

“Shoot.“

“Do you like Brad?“

Now that was a question you didn’t expect. Like never.

It caught you off guard, making it difficult for you to answer his question.

“What would you say if I told you I did?“ You ask him back.

“I would tell you to fess up ‘cause you both like each other.“ He responded.

“Is it really that noticeable that I like him?“ Your eyes widened with your ask.

“Umm, if it wasn’t you guys’ obvious flirtin’ it would be you completely snappin’ out of it and getting distracted when he walks into the room.” He explains making you put your head in your. 

“Oh my God does he know?“ Your question comes out muffled because of your hands. You also avoided his amused gaze in embarrassment. 

“No no, he’s just as oblivious to your feelings as you are to his.” He informs you, making you relax. You also decided to ignore Tris’ confirmation of Brad’s mutual feelings for you. 

“I’ll tell you what,“ Tris starts again. “James, Con and I all agree you’re good for each other but I’ll go back to bed so you can sleep ‘cause you look like you’re tired now,“ he continues and moves to collect your mugs. “and say goodnight to you.“ he finishes when he put the mugs in the dishwasher.

“Goodnight, sleep well Tris.“ You tell him and he kisses your cheek.

“Sleep well, Y/N, we’ll try to keep it down when we wake up later on.“ He tells you and he proceeds towards the hallway

“Thanks.“

You lay down on the sofa again with Jesse coming to lay at your feet and you were out like a light.

You were aching.

You had been assembling a bed, a desk and a chair from IKEA with Tris, Brad, Con and James since you came home.

IKEA manuals were gonna be the death of you.

Tris, Con and James had gone out to the shop to get some champagne to celebrate you officially moving in since you also got your own copy of the key to the flat from the landlord.

Brad had stayed behind mumbling out some excuse for not going. 

You?

You had stayed behind because you still had to move things into your room and make your bed and all that fun stuff. 

“Need help?“ Brad’s voice interrupted your movements in making your bed.

“Um, not right now but thanks.“ You answered politely.

You felt awkward as you remembered what Tris had told you during the night. Even though you had ignored them you still acknowledged them.

He’s just as oblivious to your feelings as you are to his.

You finished making your bed with Brad’s burning gaze on you.

A phone pinged and both of you reached to check your phones.

“Tris says that they’re gonna be late ‘cause traffic’s bad.“ Bard said.

You could only nod in acknowledgment as you read the same text but on your own phone.

“Well what do you wanna do?“ He asked, desperately trying to break the awkward tension.

“I’m quite tired, actually,“ you confessed. “Assembling really drains the energy outta ya, ya know?“

“Yeah yeah, I get that.“ He answered and looked around your room. “Should we see if we made the bed as good as the one in the shop?“ He suggested.

“Smooth, Bradley,“ you laughed out. “But yeah, let*s.“

You both jumped onto the bed. 

“This is almost better than the one in the shop.“ He says, wiggling around.

“Yeah it is.“ You hold your hand up for a high five which he high fives and let’s his hand stay there, moving to thread your fingers.

You smiled at his actions and reciprocated. 

He released his hand and moved it to your face to brush some hair out of your face, making your face heat up.

You decided to make a bold move and move your face just mere centimeters away from his face.

You were both breathing hard in anticipation, trying to figure out who would kiss who first. 

Fuck it, you thought and kissed him.

He immediately caught on and moved on top of you, his arms caging your head.

It felt amazing.

Lips moving together, teeth clashing, tongues exploring your mouths.

You threaded your hands in his hair and tugged at it eliciting a moan out of him.

On of his hands started moving from its position at your head down to your waist making you giggle cause you were ticklish. 

He moved away from your face agonizingly slow.

“That was-“ he started saying but looked at loss for words. “Wow, just wow.“

“Yeah,“ you agreed. 

You couldn’t think straight as his now swollen lips moved down to kiss your jaw and neck, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

He would suck, then lick your skin to soothe it.

To say the boy was talented was an understatement.

You could feel him smile against the skin on your collarbone when he found that spot that would’ve made you fall if you were standing up.

“We’re home again!“ Tris’ holler interrupted your little session, making Brad groan and fall on top of you. 

“We brought the champagne!“ James then hollers.

You both moved away from each other and sat up.

“Coming!“ Brad yells back at them which you were grateful for because you didn’t trust you own voice.

“You go ahead,“ Brad tells you. “I have to just sort something out.“ 

You snicker at him.

“We’re not finished,“ you tell him before walking out the door, smiling like an idiot ‘cause you couldn’t contain your happiness and the feeling of bliss.

One thing you forgot before greeting them was checking yourself in a mirror before greeting the guys.

“Hey guys!“ You greet.

“Uh, hey Y/N,“ James greets you back, holding back a chuckle.

Connor turned away to try and calm his laughter.

“Brad! Why does Y/N have hickeys down her neck!?“ Tris shouts while walking to your bedroom.

The smile fell off your face as James and Con couldn’t contain their laughter anymore.

Oh shit.

[britcision]

Today’s chapter is dedicated to @lehana37

One day, beloveds, one day we WILL get to Sam and Dick… but not today, I was having way too much fun bullying Vlad and Bruce

Tag List: @welcometosasakiworld @kyrianclawraith @someonebored0100 @stealingyourbones @starkcravingmad @frostedthroughghost @akikoyuii @rainbowbunny0159 @littlefeather345 @violet-catsarelife @serasvictoria02 @wolfjackle @blacksea21090 @secretdestinywerewolf @anime-hipster-the-amazing @undead-essence @skitscratched @blackroserelina @snoodly-boop @trickerdi @mayoota-blog1 @xysidhe @idkmrpianoman @little-apricot-the-writer @chaoticmistake @the-legal-shipper @bun-fish @aroranorth-west @demon-cat-goes-woof @eonic @onyxlightdragon @larks-and-katydids

Previous chapter:

First chapter:

———————

Pay Attention To Me Dammit

“Okay,” Danny sucked in a deep breath, surfacing from Jason’s suit to two deeply concerned pairs of blue eyes, “let’s get somewhere private real fast.”

Tucker snickered, helpfully extracting both him and Sam from Jason’s arms.

“I can’t fucking believe you forgot Vlad was coming,” he sighed, voice still shaking as he gave Jason a once over.

Sam, sucking in huge gasps of air, pinched his arm as she straightened.

“Oh shut up, not like you brought him up either,” she wheezed, still grinning.

“Vladdie’s gonna be fucking heartbroken,” Tucker sighed happily, shoving Danny towards a corner.

People were definitely looking. And not just the other four bats; regular guests were watching behind fans, hands, or just deadass staring.

Tim took over, catching Danny’s wrist and pulling the other boy after him. They weren’t that far off the same height.

“So, should I take it that “Vlad” being here is a good thing or a bad thing?” He asked, pulling on his best socialite smile, heading for one of the hall exits instead.

“Back room?” Jason wondered, guiding Sam and Tucker quickly after him. Tim nodded without looking back.

“They shouldn’t be busy yet. We can talk without being overheard,” he added to the other three, who obligingly sped up.

“As for your question, Vlad being here is… probably gonna end up being nothing?” Danny offered, doing his best smiles for the rich assholes they passed.

Sam kicked him in the ankle.

“Wait til we’re alone,” she said quietly, hustling Tucker along.

Unsurprisingly to Jason and Tim, the first back room already had four other people sitting in it, on two extremely plush couches, angled at right angles and facing a fireplace. Before Danny could turn to find another, Steph caught his hand and pulled him in.

“Hi, Stephanie Brown, friend of the Waynes, we’re gonna talk all about Jason’s adorable little crush on you but first, what did you need privacy for?” She asked, eyes bright with innuendo.

Danny grinned right back, already liking this one, and relaxed when Tim and Jason guided the others in and shut the door.

“Well, I guess you all being here means no one has to be found later… and the more eyes the better in this case,” he mused, looking over the other teens and young adult.

Dick waved at Tucker, grinning sarcastically.

“Danny. And Danny,” he added, nodding to Danny himself.

Sam hid a snicker behind her hand.

“That’s what you went with?” She asked Tucker, and he grinned entirely unrepentantly back.

“What, Jason said he told them who I was,” he said in his very best innocent voice.

Before they could get going, Jason raised a hand.

“I’m gonna guess there was a reason you snuck Danny in other than getting back at Sam’s parents? Vlad Masters,” he prodded, dropping to sit on one of the plush royal blue couches next to Cass.

All three Amity Parkers sobered immediately.

“Right… yeah, we should sit for this,” Tucker agreed, glancing around the room. Seating for nine was going to be tight, but… well, he may no longer be a teenager, but he was still seating-flexible.

Introductions were made as people juggled themselves around, finally ending with Cass, Jason, and Danny on one sofa, Sam, Steph, and Damian on the other, and Dick and Tim perching on windowsill or sofa arm respectively. Tucker took the floor.

Once movement stilled, Danny exchanged glances with Sam and Tucker. Maybe hoping that for once, he wouldn’t be doing the explaining?

He shoulda known better.

Sighing, he ran a hand through his hair and didn’t lean intentionally into Jason’s side. It was good to have another halfa around, that was all.

“Sooooo… cliff’s notes? Vlad Masters is a shady billionaire who uses some seriously unethical shit to make predatory deals with other rich folks to steal their fortune. We think he’s here to cement that flashy “b”, byyyy stealing your dad’s fortune,” he explained quickly, glancing around at the Waynes and adjacents he could see.

They did not look convinced.

Tim frowned, leaning forward on his knee and steepling his fingers.

“If you have proof of that, shouldn’t someone already be looking into him?” He asked contemplatively, eyes fixed on Danny’s face.

It was. Weirdly intense.

Fighting down discomfort, Danny shrugged.

“So remember when I said deeply unethical? Think like, mind control. He’s hard to investigate.”

“You make him sound like a supervillain,” Dick noted from the windowsill.

Sam raised a pointed eyebrow at him.

“Duh, we said “billionaire”.”

“Hey,” Tim protested, leaning around Steph to frown at her, “I’m a billionaire.”

She stared him dead in the eye while Steph snickered.

“I said what I said.”

“And you’re a millionaire,” he shot back sharply, eyes narrowing.

Sam didn’t blink.

“I work at a plant nursery my parents don’t approve of and pay my own tuition. My family are millionaires; I’m not,” she said plainly.

Tim puffed up his cheeks, but let them deflate silently. Jason definitely wasn’t smirking.

Cass leaned forwards suddenly, eyes darting around the room searchingly before settling on Sam.

“Masters. Your connection?” She asked softly, the others stilling to hear her.

Both of Sam’s brows rose, but she didn’t comment at hearing the other girl’s voice for the first time. She looked to Danny instead, raising an eyebrow.

Danny blew out a huff of air, ruffling his bangs.

“So… we… well…”

“He wants to fuck Danny’s mom and adopt Danny,” Tucker said bluntly, tipping his head back to hit Danny’s knees and grinning up at him.

Danny poked him in the forehead, but didn’t refute it.

“Yeah. So he’s kinda been my problem for a while. And he’s the mayor of Amity Park now? Is he still?” He asked, looking from one to the other.

Sam shrugged.

“Think so. I haven’t heard about anyone new.”

The Waynes and co were all kind of just… staring at them. Danny gave them jazz hands.

“And now he’s heeeeeere. He probably won’t make any moves if he knows I’m around, but we should keep an eye on him around Mr Wayne anyway.”

“And we can add him to the fuckery list, along with Sam’s parents,” Tucker added with a very satisfied smile.

It drew all eyes his way, ranging from intrigued to sceptical.

“How?” Steph asked, eyes bright.

Tucker waved a hand over the room.

“Black hair. Blue eyes. For one thing, Mr Drake-Wayne is even the same height, so if he sees you from behind, he could be confused. Dick’s not far off either. And best of all,” he added while the others did quick visual comparisons, decidedly smug, “we hint that Bruce is thinking of accepting Danny as an intern. Step one of Wayne Adoption.”

Sam’s eyes lit up with evil glee.

“Oh he’d do his fucking nut if you cozied up to someone richer than him, Danny,” she gasped, hands bouncing on her lap.

Danny hesitated for a moment, glancing over at Jason. Who was looking back, gears clearly turning. Seeing that he had Danny’s eye, he leaned in quickly.

“Vlad Masters would be Vlad Plasmius, yes?” He asked in a low voice. He’d scanned the database more than read in detail, but he knew the basics.

One very important basic.

Vlad was the other halfa.

And Vlad could sense other halfas. For a hot second Danny very nearly took off out of the room, ready to go find and kick Vlad’s ass and keep him far, far away from Jason.

He didn’t realise he’d clenched his fists until one of them was held in a large, hot hand. Slowly, shakily he uncurled them, checking for blood in the deep half moon crevices now dug in his palms.

Nothing. He was fine.

“Danny?” Jason asked softly, and Danny looked up to his face. There was something in his eyes, something familiar in the way they flashed a deep, sudden green when their eyes met.

Yeah, Jason’s Obsession was fucking definitely Protection, at least in part. Danny clasped his hand quickly, half worried Jason was gonna do just what he’d had to try so hard not to.

Would it have been that bad if Jason was just his friend, not his knight?

There was no way to know anymore.

Covering Jason’s hands in both of his, he gave Jason the best smile he could.

“I’m fine. But yeah, that’s him. And we… should probably also have a private word.” Because there was this sudden, very nasty little temptation curling through him.

“Would this private word have anything to do with Jason almost going full feral?” Dick asked with a studied innocence that had at least a master’s degree.

Which was when Danny noticed that the rest were all staring at them. At their clasped hands. At Jason’s still a little too green eyes.

**

Jason grimaced, fully aware of what they must have seen. He tamped the green down firmly, pushing against the wave of protect-protect-PROTECT the pit was damn near screaming inside him.

Wasn’t entirely sure it was only the pit.

Watching Danny tense up like that, clearly in the throes of fight or flight, pulled at something primal inside him.

Jason didn’t know who Vlad Masters was, what he looked like, what he was doing, but he was fully willing to throw him out of the building by the neck if Danny would relax even a little.

He threatens my king, something growled in the back of his mind and Jason’s hands jerked.

That was fucking new. And not fucking welcome.

He looked to Dick instead, giving him a strained smile. It was the best he could do right now.

“Yeah,” he admitted, not fully comfortable with how strained his voice sounded. How tight his throat felt.

Had the pit tried to use his mouth? Make him speak?

Just the thought made him want to puke, but he pushed that down too. He had shit to do today, and the pit wasn’t gonna ruin it.

“I told you he was helping me with the pit,” he added when Dick still looked calculatedly calm. Definitely not about to tackle him to the ground if he moved too suddenly.

Fuck Jason hoped Dick never tried. When they fought for fun, for training, sure Dick could hand him his ass six ways from Sunday. But when the green took over…

He didn’t want to hurt his brother. None of his brothers, ever again.

Except maybe a little bit psychologically.

“Fenton’s eyes changed too,” Damian said sharply, and oooh absolutely nothing in Jason liked that accusatory tone.

Not about Danny. Not about his king.

His head snapped around to glare at the youngest and knew his eyes had gone green again from the way the others recoiled. All but Sam and Danny. And Damian, suicidal little gremlin.

All but Cass, who slipped herself carefully but immovably back into his lap, hooking her feet into the backs of his knees and hands on his cheeks. Pinning him in place.

Making him look at her, not Damian.

She studied his expression intensely, her eyes saying more than even Dick could manage.

And there was a hand in his again, gently soothing across his fingers until his knuckles opened, and Cass let him look away to Danny. Doing just what Jason had done less than a minute ago.

Danny didn’t have to tell his secrets to anyone he didn’t want to. Not now, not the first time they met, not before he trusted them.

Anger-protect-not their business

And Danny smiled back, all gentle and soft, and Jason settled back, relaxing muscles he hadn’t noticed tensing.

Reassurance-calm-safe safe safe-trust

If Jason trusted them, Danny would too. And if that didn’t sting something right in his chest.

Danny cleared his throat, turning back to the rest of the room and giving them a slightly tighter smile.

“Yeah. I. Uh… I was exposed to the Lazarus pits? About a year before Jason was. So I know what it’s like when it gets too strong.”

Half truths at best, but close enough to be believed. To make sense.

Close enough that no one except Damian, tactless boy wonder, would ever ask.

“Only the dying can survive exposure to the pits,” the boy snapped, eyes sharp as he studied Danny in a new light.

Jason’s hands nearly clenched again, but this time Danny’s was in the way. Protecting Danny meant not crushing Danny’s hand.

Good loophole.

“The dying and the dead,” Danny agreed placidly, calm just barely tinted by amusement.

Jason closed his eyes, let himself focus on breathing in Danny’s aura.

Was that a hint of trouble-fun-plans plans mayhem?

Damian squinted at Danny for another long moment, then nodded sharply and sat back. Steph punched him.

“Damian, you can’t just go asking people if they’ve died,” she hissed in a comically loud whisper.

“It was relevant to the conversation!” Damian insisted, immediately sitting back up to defend his honour. Steph tweaked his nose and he properly growled, gearing up to tackle her.

“It was rude, Dami,” Dick coaxed gently, coming from the windowsill to the couch to scoop Damian into his arms.

The only one of them who could have done it and survived. Damian glowered up at him too, then folded his arms and scowled at the floor.

Dire retributions would surely be incoming.

“Hey, it’s cool,” Danny caused, grinning along with the others now that the tension had broken. “He just wanted to know I’m not gonna hurt Jason, right?”

All eyes turned back to Damian, who squinted suspiciously at Danny again. Jason was ready for the flare of protectiveness this time.

Danny was fine. He could handle the demon brat, even if Dick didn’t have him in hand already.

Jason didn’t want to hurt his brother.

Which caused a different, confusing flare of protectiveness because what he needed to protect Damian from was himself, and the self same flares.

He stifled a chuckle that would probably only make things worse.

Finally Damian huffed, turning away into Dick’s arms.

“Tt. Ridiculous. I only wished to be sure you spoke the truth,” he snapped, and the room resettled.

Danny raised both hands, grinning, and Cass shuffled to rest her ear over Jason’s heart.

“Okay?” She asked softly, moving her feet from his pressure points. Jason brought his other arm up and around her, squeezing gently.

“Yeah, I’m good. Thanks,” he replied just as quietly, resting his cheek in her hair.

“Well, this does also kinda simplify things,” Danny added with a chuckle, leaning back against the couch. “I can just tell all of you; Vlad’s also been ecto…. Pit contaminated. And we can sense each other, so he’s going to know Jason is too.”

That geared the bats back up, all turning back to stare at Danny. Who grinned utterly wickedly.

“So Vladdie gets to be on the rare and extremely valued double fuckery list.”

“Is he gonna try and do anything to Jason?” Steph asked sharply, posture tensing towards the door like it might open at any second.

Tucker shrugged, moving back to lean against the couch next to Danny’s legs. He’d wisely made himself scarce when there was a chance either halfa would make a break for it.

“Like Danny said, Vlad probably won’t try anything if he knows we’re around? He can’t do his mind control on Danny so he’s gotta keep it in his pants, even if he’d rather not.”

Sam brightened, catching on to where the boys were going.

“But because Vlad is like… Obsessed with Danny for being like him, there’s a chance he’ll wanna try and adopt Jason too,” she said slowly, her smile becoming full and wicked.

“And since we’re already planning to have me and Jason caught in some indelicate way to upset the Mansons,” Danny added, utterly self satisfied, “we can fry his brain thinking he can only adopt one of us.”

“And that’s after we make him play Find The Real Danny,” Tucker jumped in, grinning broadly, “because it’s not specific enough to track a single person in a busy room. Do you guys do accents?”

Tim and Dick exchanged glances and shrugged.

“Yours wouldn’t be hard,” Tim pointed out, a smirk pulling across his own face as he nodded to Danny.

“I’d like to know why we’re also fucking with the Mansons though?” Dick asked, raising an eyebrow at Sam. Who shrugged.

“They refused to let me bring my girlfriend as a plus one. So we’re gonna ruin me for men and make them think twice next time.”

“Wait, so you’re not dating Danny?” Steph asked, proving she had been hovering during their little meet and greet.

None of the Amity Parkers seemed surprised. Not by her listening in, anyway.

Danny flushed cherry red, Tucker burst out laughing, and Sam smirked.

“Not since high school,” she said casually. Danny groped around for a throwable pillow but came up short.

For some reason, Jason felt absolutely no need to protect his king from some righteous bullying. Another fun loophole.

Must be the lack of potential stabbing.

Dick grinned suddenly, now leaning on the other arm of the couch from Tim.

“Okay, but we definitely don’t tell this part to Bruce,” he said eagerly, beckoning all the others closer. “If Jason’s job is to flirt with Sam and defile Danny, we were also here to meet Danny as Jason’s boyfriend.”

“Let Bruce think Danny’s leading you both on!” Steph finished, clapping her hands and cackling. “Oh it’s perfect!”

Sam cackled along with her, turning a much warmer smile on the other girl.

“Oh, my parents would love to trash talk Danny to him too, they’ve probably already hurried off to let him know I’m “eligible”,” she agreed with the most sarcastic air quotes Jason had ever seen.

Steph lurched immediately to her feet.

“We’re gonna miss it! Okay, so our first task is to make sure Vlad knows Danny is here, right? So he knows not to try anything on Bruce,” she added to confirm, looking between the Amity Parkers.

Danny frowned thoughtfully, touching his lower lip. Jason tried not to focus on it.

“He should know as soon as we get within proximity of each other… so probably once we’re both in the big room?”

Steph nodded sharply, turning to point to Tim.

“We need to know what he looks like. Can you get us a picture?”

Tim nodded, already tapping at his phone and rising along with Steph, the fire of planning in his eyes.

“On it. Sam and Jason need to be seen to be flirting, but Danny doesn’t have to be with them. Dick and I can wander through the crowd, keeping an eye out for Masters but keeping our faces turned away. Cass, can you help with that?”

Cass gave a thumbs up, sitting straighter and resting her head on Jason’s shoulder instead.

“Yes. Can be Dick’s eyes, signal you both.”

Tim typed a moment longer, then lowered his phone and wheeled, turning to point to Damian.

“And you should all have the photo… now. Damian, if you can get as close to Masters as you can, you can signal us too if he gets too close to Bruce or us.”

Damian nodded and glanced down at his phone, all ruffled feathers smoothing as he tucked it away and straightened his suit.

“I shall watch him for any suspicious moves. I can also run interference if he approaches Father.”

Steph nodded happily and clapped her hands, pointing both at Tucker.

“And you can join me in spying on the Mansons and recording them if they talk to Bruce, for the rest of us to enjoy later!” She declared triumphantly.

Tucker shot to his feet, grinning broadly.

“Yeah! And if they catch us we can tell them Jason and Sam are doing something, or ask if they’ve seen Danny,” he agreed, bouncing on his toes. He stuck a hand out in front of him. “Ready?”

Steph slapped her palm down on the back of his hand.

“Ready!”

The room now filled with purpose, everyone came to join Tucker, sticking their hands in in a circle, even as Damian complained about “ridiculous social rituals”.

No one else seemed to mind, tossing their hands into the air as they all whispered “BREAK!”, not wanting to be heard from the hallway.

As the room emptied, Danny hung back, catching Jason’s eye.

“So I know you’re probably not ready to talk about this,” he said softly as Sam lingered in the doorway, her back conspicuously to them, “but I just need to ask you if there was electricity involved when you died.”

Jason felt his whole body tense, less than pleasant memories rushing to the fore. Broken bones. A blade in his leg. Explosion.

No electricity.

He could see the strain on Danny’s face as his mind cleared, and shook his head.

“No. Why?” He asked warily, suddenly very concerned.

Danny made a face that did precisely nothing to lessen it, looking away.

“Because there was when I died, and Vlad knows it. And he… he can control electricity. But you’ll be fine, well, other than the usual “oh no a bad guy is shooting me with electricity”, right?”

Danny was babbling now, clearly trying to distract himself, but all Jason could see was pure, pulsing green. Before he knew he’d moved he had an arm wrapped firmly around slender shoulders, crushing Danny to his chest.

He didn’t need to be told that reminders of a ghost’s death wounds could be debilitating. He’d have known without the database. Without the catch in Danny’s voice.

“If he ever lays a fucking finger on you again I’ll fucking kill him,” he growled, his voice coming out almost as low as his helmet modulator.

Danny stiffened for just a moment in his grasp, then relaxed against him.

“I mean, I can handle myself,” he protested weakly, voice somewhat muffled in Jason’s jacket, “but I’m not gonna fight you on that one, Jay.”

It soothed something inside him, something hot in the center of his chest that burned at just the thought of anyone hurting the man in his arms.

Attacking him. Using the pain and trauma of his death against him. Attacking his king.

A gentle hand soothed up and down his spine.

Safe-protected-I’m okay-safe

It took a minute before Jason could bring himself to let go, smiling sheepishly down at Danny.

“Sorry. Guess I’m… uh, not used to dealing with anything other than rage from the pit,” he explained weakly.

It felt stupid, comparing something as soft as the urge to protect to those bloodthirsty rampages. That didn’t make it any less true.

Danny shrugged, rolling out his shoulders and grinning up at him.

“Hey, like I said. Shoulda seen me when I first changed. Anyway, shall we go make Vlad’s night a living hell?” He asked wickedly, a cheeky smile on his face.

Jason nodded and made for the door, giving Sam a small smile of appreciation. She looked between the two of them and snickered.

“Yeah, rumpling you both up in a closet’s gonna be easy breezy,” she said lazily, pushing the door open again. “You should trade ties.”

Danny’s hand flew to his throat and he chuckled softly, then shook both of his hands out.

“Okay… time to go make sure Vladdie knows I’m around,” he sighed, cracking his neck. Like he was limbering up for a fight?

Jason cocked a brow, taking Sam’s arm.

“What are you gonna do?” He asked as they moved out into the hall, back towards the ballroom.

Danny shot him a quick grin.

“Expand my aura to cover the whole room. He’ll know I’m flexing, and he won’t be able to miss it. Should help confuse him about Tim and Dick too, since the whole place is gonna feel like me,” he added, and Jason grinned.

Alright, that was gonna be a useful trick. Time to see that famous Ghost King aura put to the test.

He wasn’t really expecting to feel a change really. He was close enough that Danny’s aura was still brushing gently over his, soothing the pit that he was right there.

Ready and close if Jason needed to protect him.

And then Danny’s brows furrowed for a moment, he flexed his shoulders back, and Jason was surrounded in pulsing waves of DANNY-DANNY-DANNY.

He didn’t know he’d stumbled until Sam caught him, her hand small on his chest right over the thudding pulse of his heart.

He barely felt her touch. All he could see, all he could hear, all he could feel was the raw power surging out of the man beside him.

Feeling Frostbite in the Far Frozen had been overwhelming. This… this rewrote the beat of his heart, crawled with his breath into his lungs, curled around every deep and intimate part of himself.

It made him feel tiny and delicate, swept up and held off his feet by Danny’s sheer presence. Crowded and pushed up against the wall, held in place, and Danny wasn’t even fucking trying.

Everything was right in the world. His King was here. The pit fucking sang in his veins.

Aaaand Jason hadn’t been this hard in dress pants since he’d been an excitable teenager who couldn’t help it. Eyes closing, he swayed back against the hallway wall.

He could just barely feel Sam’s hand still on his chest, a grounding point as he sucked in deep breaths. Heard her snicker as the ringing in his ears began to die down.

“You’re getting better at that, Danny,” she noted, and Jason hissed.

This could have been worse? More? How?

And then Danny’s hand was at his shoulder too and he didn’t need to open his eyes to know it. Knew the touch, the feel, the way the pit surged warmth to the spot.

Heard Danny’s soft voice as though it were being broadcast straight into his head.

“Hey, you okay?” He asked quietly, and Jason honestly wasn’t sure.

Think about Bruce’s old underwear commercials. Jane Austen novels. Alfred’s expression if Jason ruined his good pants this fucking early into a party.

Later, maybe, it’d give a flare of authenticity but Danny almost certainly wouldn’t be down.

Danny. There was someone here who wanted to hurt Danny.

Jason’s eyes snapped open and he sucked in another deep breath. It was still redolent of Danny’s aura, still cupping him on every side, but he had a purpose now. A job to do.

He managed a slightly strained smile.

“‘M fine. It’s just a shock.” He cleared his throat, reaching down to tug at the front of his trousers as subtly as he could. “Is, uh… is it always like that?”

Danny looked confused for a moment, still concerned, but it was easier to miss the pulsing beat of his emotions now. Easier to focus.

He’d protect Danny’s feelings too, but he couldn’t do that if he was overwhelmed.

Who knew he’d be this into feeling like he was drowning in someone?

Finally Danny shrugged, glancing out towards the ballroom.

“I wouldn’t know… it doesn’t feel all that different to me. Just like everyone in the room is now inside my personal space,” he added, pulling a face.

Jason stared at him for a long moment, wondering how the hell he was going to ask. If he even wanted to mention the effects it had had - was still having, cleaning guns, Alfred in lace, Vlad was still here.

Nope.

Just. Nope. Not opening that can of worms today.

If Danny didn’t know that just feeling him all around him like that was gonna send Jason to horny jail, Jason was just never gonna tell him. And if Vlad had an even similar reaction, Jason would double kick his ass.

Hauling himself away from the wall, Jason cleared his throat again and fixed his jacket.

“Alright… I’m good. Shall we?” He asked Sam, offering her his arm this time. She gave him a quick up and down, raised a brow, but didn’t comment.

“Sure you are,” she chuckled softly, taking his arm with a reluctant half smile, turning back to Danny. “Are you gonna stick close, or do you wanna recon Vlad?”

Danny considered it for a moment, moving with them as they returned to the hall. Then he shrugged.

“I might go take a peek, but if I see your parents I’ll third wheel back on over. You guys should go mosey,” he added, waving a hand quickly.

Jason nodded, tucking Sam closer, turned back to the room, and… froze. Sam, utterly unaffected, made it a couple steps forward before she noticed and turned back, frowning.

“Hey, what’s up?” She asked in a low whisper, eyes flicking around them.

Good fucking question.

Jason closed his eyes, sucking in a slow breath and trying to work out what had shot down his spine like cold water. Brows furrowed, he tried to will his feet to move.

Took a step backwards and opened his eyes again, frowning back at Sam.

“Alright, I didn’t mean to do that,” he hissed, head turning automatically… to where Danny had taken a couple of steps away.

Green surged below his skin, asking what the fuck he thought he was doing. Abandoning his post. Leaving his king.

There was someone here who’d hurt him, who’d used his fucking death against him, and Jason was gonna what? Not be close enough to break his fingers for thinking it?

Eyes closed for a moment, Jason weighed the odds he could just push this down and keep going. Felt Sam tuck closer. They did have a whole ass plan…

Felt a sudden wash of concern-what’s wrong-protect from the surrounding warmth of Danny.

And sighed, shaking his head, pulling Sam with him after Danny. With each step the green sung, a deep satisfaction not his own rising inside.

He gave Danny a sheepish smile and a shrug.

“I don’t think I can leave you alone. Not if he’s here,” he added a little more quietly, well aware they were being watched once again.

Confusion flashed across Danny’s face for a moment, then he groaned and slapped himself in the forehead.

“Fucking Clockwork… alright, we stick together. Tim and Dick will have plenty of fun with Vlad anyway,” he said, grin slowly spreading again as he tucked himself in to Sam’s other side.

“And we can have more fun with my parents,” Sam pointed out innocently, scanning the crowd around them. Shot them both a sidelong glance each, half smirking. “And I get two lots of cute arm candy.”

Danny and Jason turned automatically to look each other over, Jason’s grin broadening as Danny’s cheeks flushed.

Dick had said he looked a treat in this suit. Must have been right about something.

Suddenly Danny’s aura was all very studious and concentrated nothing to see here.

Jason bit the inside of his lip to keep from laughing, letting his eyes trail a little slower over his king’s frame.

Wherever Danny had gotten his suit from, they knew a thing or two about tailoring. It fit him well, emphasising the lean lines of his legs and torso. Didn’t quite square off his shoulders.

Jason still hadn’t had much practice with projecting his own emotions back, but he had the feeling his… appreciation got through when Danny’s blush darkened.

Grinning down at Sam, Jason patted her hand.

“Only if my code name’s Gummy Bear.”

A startled laugh from Danny was the reaction he’d been going for. Sam’s sudden, utterly wicked smile was a lot more concerning.

“Alright. Danny’s is gonna be Jawbreaker,” she decided, her gaze darting briefly down to Jason’s lips as she smirked.

Jason looked away quickly, his own cheeks uncomfortably warm as Danny choked.

***

Vlad Masters smiled to himself as he moved through the crowd, a shark among minnows. Their vacuous chatter was a soothing background noise; practically already the emptying of their pocket books.

Oh, he didn’t like to come to Gotham, not with that Bat that flapped around. The Bat didn’t like metas, or people who could do just a little more than curl up and die.

But, well, this had been an opportunity just too sweet to pass up.

He could dip his toes in Daniel’s new haunt, remind the boy that he’d never be too far away if he needed him. He could get a look at this son of Bruce Wayne’s, that had died and come back.

And just maybe he’d get a claw into Wayne Enterprises, and get a look at some of their latest technology for his own… uses.

Yes, Vlad was feeling productive just being here, even if he did have to keep his ghostly abilities on lock.

He drifted through the crowd, joining conversations, sniffing out weaknesses, moving on. Oh, some of these wealthy types thought they were hunters too, he could see it in their eyes.

He’d made his fortune by taking from those types of men and letting them see what true power looked like. It was much more satisfying to break a man who thought he was unbreakable.

Bruce Wayne wasn’t one of that type, but he had something that Vlad wanted. Still, the man seemed vacuous enough, all laughing and drink and flirting.

He’d handed control of his company to his teenaged son (and oh Vlad was a little jealous of him for thinking of that move… if only Daniel was more… pliable).

But Vlad could see himself letting Brucie keep at least some of his assets. The man was entertaining, and it’d show Daniel he’d listened.

He could change. In ways that weren’t too… inconvenient for him.

And then he’d have a shield in Gotham, and Wayne could deal with that meddlesome Bat, and he could pay Daniel a visit.

He’d just caught sight of his true quarry, standing in a small circle of fawning admirers when the felt the Presence flood the room.

It sent a shiver up his spine and he locked his knees, refusing to let any weakness show as the air filled with the heavy static of Daniel.

So the boy was here? Interesting. He’d have a chance to see his Little Badger even before he left the party.

He had seen the Mansons on the guest list and he had to wonder if the lad had finally gotten closer to his little goth friend. Close enough to be a plus one?

The elder Mansons would surely hate that, and make that hatred known. Unless Vlad were to… step in. Save the boy from their judgemental stares.

Remind them that Daniel may not be from a wealthy family, but he was still connected to the Masters name.

Yes, this was wonderfully good news and Vlad felt almost chipper, a spring in his step as he advanced on Wayne. Oh, the boy was flaring off, showing Vlad he had some power too, but Vlad wasn’t here to fight.

All he needed was to set up one simple meeting between himself and Wayne, and then all of tonight could be for his Little Badger. Imagine, Vlad Masters having the chance to play the hero.

He was most definitely looking forward to it. And ah yes, here they were, the Mansons already at Bruce Wayne’s elbow, chattering away.

Everything really was coming up Vlad.

**

Bruce had met the Mansons before of course, at other charity events across the country. They were… well, pretty much exactly the type of nouveau riche he kept his children away from at all costs.

Never impolitely, of course. Never letting on how their false smiles and honeyed lies made his gut squirm in distaste. He was always cordial, and could safely rely on the effect his smile had on both of the couple.

But they weren’t what you’d call close, even in gala circles, so it was something of a surprise when they sought him out.

“Ah, Brucie! There you are, good to see you,” the husband, Jeremy, called jovially as they approached, clapping him on the back.

Bruce gave them one of his better Brucie smiles, returning the gesture with a calculated firmness.

“Jeremy! Wonderful to see you,” he greeted them both exuberantly, eyes discretely scanning both to try and work out what they wanted. They always wanted something.

The wife, Pamela his mental rolodex said, simpered up at him, clutching at her husband’s arm.

“Of course we were simply delighted to hear that your son was found, we couldn’t possibly miss the party!” She gushed, letting her hand flutter over his. “You know, our Samantha is about the same age.”

Ah.

Well, that was a first. For Jason, anyway; Tim and Damian both had plenty of parents hopefully thrusting their children his way. Even Dick was subject to occasional propositions.

Jason had barely been his long enough to be considered eligible when he’d… well.

Bruce would mention it to Dick later, so his eldest could tease Jason about this latest milestone. Best not broach the subject himself.

He cranked the wattage on his smile down a little, looking carefully behind the couple.

“Yes, I believe I’ve met Samantha before,” he said genially, mind scanning through his gala notes.

Samantha Manson. Usually seen in elaborate pink and frilly gowns, always seen utterly despising them. Quiet, rebellious eyes.

At least Jason might find someone tolerable to talk to.

“Is she here tonight?” He finished, like he hadn’t personally memorised the guest list.

Pamela and Jeremy Manson. Samantha Manson. And plus one.

Plus one? Clearly someone the parents found less agreeable than Jason, and Bruce couldn’t help feeling sorry for the poor kid.

Jeremy was already nodding cheerfully, a sparkle in those eyes that put Bruce on edge.

“Oh yes, she’s off talking to your boy right now in fact,” he said with a very self satisfied chuckle, shooting Bruce a knowing look. “I think they quite hit it off.”

“Poor Jason was just telling us how few friends he has his own age, and of course Samantha would much prefer his company than being stuck with her parents,” Pamela trilled, giving Bruce a knowing look of her own, about three shades smuttier than her husband’s.

He could very, very easily believe that, even with as little time as he’d spent with the elder Mansons. Still, best not let them get their hopes up.

“How lovely! I’m sure Jason will keep her well entertained, he has his own plus one for the evening and he does thrive with an audience.”

He’d been expecting them to dim a little at the mention of a plus one, and if not maybe to delicately hint that the current partner was male.

Bruce might not personally know how serious Jason was in this new relationship, but he’d have his son’s back against any of the gala harpies.

He was not expecting them both to beam even brighter.

“Why, that’s the best thing!” Pamela beamed, clapping her hands. “His plus one, Tucker Foley, is Samantha’s very best friend! They’ve been close since high school, very close,” she added proudly, like she’d curated the friendship herself.

Bruce was beginning to think he’d have to mention he knew Samantha also had a plus one when Jeremy nodded happily.

“And of course Samantha brought along her other friend, Daniel from home too, so we were quite concerned the boys might run off together and leave our little girl on her lonesome, but your Jason really took a shine to her!”

Something sharpened in Bruce’s spine, catching at his attention.

“Daniel?” He asked, innocently as he could, and spotted Steph and a young Black man heading their way. Certainly she’d hang back to get more information. “Would I know him?”

Pamela’s face scrunched for a moment before smoothing back into a perfect, empty smile.

“Oh, I very much doubt it. The boy is from a rather disreputable family I’m afraid, very bad influences, but our Samantha has never shied from offering her hand in friendship.”

Bruce took a moment to compare this sentence to the young woman he remembered, barely covering seething resentment under a very similar empty smile.

Friendship. Yes, he could see her offering that to literally anyone her parents disapproved of.

But if this was the same “Danny” Jason was getting involved with, it was his fatherly duty to learn what he could.

He schooled his face to his best politely interested morbid fascination.

“Oh? Please tell me more.”

**

Steph and Tucker sped up as they caught sight of Bruce, Steph leaning in to whisper,

“Are those the Mansons talking to him?”

Tucker nodded, slipping around to the other side of her for partial cover.

“Yeah, that’s them… wonder what they’re saying, he looks so concerned,” he whispered back, and Steph snickered.

“That’s his “your problems are so fascinating tell me everything” face,” she explained quietly, turning to plant her back to the nearest small table.

This one held a small crystal sculpture that was probably supposed to symbolize something, but she wasn’t gonna look twice. Instead she slipped her phone out of a discrete pocket and hit record.

Tucker took a moment to admire the new tech, leaning around her with an intrigued smile.

“Oh, is that the new WayneTech phone? Can I see?” He asked, brightening up.

Steph grinned and shook her head, carefully angling it to point at Bruce and the Mansons without making it look intentional.

“Not the newest release, but the one before. Tim lost a bet so he had to give me some free upgrades,” she added when Tucker looked confused.

“But aren’t you one of the Waynes? Why would you be a release behind?” He sounded honestly dumbfounded and Steph hid a snicker.

He sounded like Tim every time she turned down one of Bruce’s toys.

“I’m really just a family friend, and I don’t wanna have to get a whole new phone every time Tim or his nerd team has a new idea. You can look later, I wanna catch what they’re saying,” she hissed and he reluctantly quieted, still looking at her like she was crazy.

Yeah.

Tim 2.0. She was gonna have to text Connor later.

Tuck pulled his PDA out and she half expected him to start recording too, but instead he pulled up a handy decoy screen so he could pretend to be showing her something.

And…

Tapped into the video currently being recorded on her phone. She raised a brow and he grinned back, tapping a few buttons and boosting the volume.

“There are some advantages to upgrading your tech,” he said smugly and pulled out a pair of earbuds, offering her one.

They pulled them out about five minutes later.

Steph clapped her hand over her mouth, fighting down giggles as she dropped the earbud into Tucker’s hand.

“Holy fucking shit to people still actually talk like that?” She hissed between her teeth. Tucker, also fighting laughter, stuffed the headphones back into a pocket.

“Yeah, honestly? My mom loves Saturday morning soaps and even she’d call that overplayed,” he snickered, shaking her head.

“You’d think Danny ate their fucking cat, what the hell happened there?” Steph asked, lips pressing tightly shut on another laugh as she made awkward eye contact with some passing guests.

“Honestly? Nothing, they just don’t like his parents, and that makes Danny a “hoodlum”,” Tucker rolled his eyes and grinned, flipping his PDA to a different channel, and then suddenly flipping back. “Aaaaand shit, that’s Vlad. This is gonna be good.”

Steph pulled the PDA quickly from his hands as he lunged back into a pocket.

“Quick, get them back, there is no way I’m missing this!”

**

Vlad couldn’t say he was honestly surprised to walk in on the Mansons telling some outlandish story that was almost all sly innuendo. It was why Pamela came to these parties after all.

What was surprising was the way Wayne’s face grew more and more serious as she spoke, painting a picture of Daniel as some kind of delinquent thug.

Which, to be fair, wasn’t an entirely inaccurate picture of the boy on his worse days, but hardly represented his best.

And if he reached into just a hint of ghostly stealth to come up behind her, well, watching Pamela Manson startle as he cut in with a well placed greeting was more than worth it.

“My, that does sound like a fascinating story Pamela! And you say this was young Daniel?” He asked, watching with satisfaction as both Mansons spun to stare.

“Brucie” gave him a sharp, almost assessing look too, much more thoughtful than he usually bothered with. Interesting.

Pamela brightened when she recognized him, beckoning him in.

“Oh, yes! Vlad, do join us, I was just telling Brucie here about some of those silly ghost adventures Daniel would pull Samantha into in high school!” She clearly expected him to join in.

Ah, but today Vlad’s role was to be Daniel’s hero, not Phantom’s nemesis. And maybe to see just what had managed to rub two brain cells together in Wayne’s famously amicable head.

He gave her a fond smile, nodding in greeting to the men and taking his place in their circle.

“Why, Pamela, I do hope you’re not disparaging my godson before Mr Wayne even has a chance to say hello?” It was a calculated guess, but honestly.

However Daniel got into this party (and he would put money on his dear goth friend Sam herself), he wouldn’t be introduced to the man holding the purse strings.

From the corner of his eye he also caught a very familiar red beret, and his brow quirked slightly.

Daniel, Sam, and Tucker Foley, all in one place. They must have heard he’d be coming.

How… adorable.

His smile spread as Pamela’s faded, even as Brucie turned to offer him a hand and a warm smile.

“Mr Masters, yes? I believe we’ve met at a few of these before,” the man said, all charm and sunshine.

Vlad shook the offered hand firmly, resisting the urge to just poke directly into his mind.

Tucker was listening. Best give him something interesting to report.

“Yes, I wasn’t aware you knew the Mansons too? One of our finest families in Amity Park,” he purred, giving them both an almost predatory smile.

Jeremy puffed up under it like it was actual praise, but Pamela was still watching him curiously.

“Oh yes, we’re going to be quite close,” she said airily, giving Brucie a secretive smile.

The man didn’t quite return it, the same friendly, open smile not changing in the slightest.

More interesting still.

“And perhaps you and I will be getting closer too, Vlad. Can I call you Vlad?” He asked, and Vlad’s smile widened.

“Of course. Is there something I should know?” He asked, half teasing.

Brucie’s expression flickered almost too fast to see. Something like actual thought under that big soft smile.

“It seems that my son Jason has been spending time with young Samantha and Daniel,” he explained, still sounding just the same cheery fool.

Vlad’s smile widened further, and he took a moment to reign himself in. It wouldn’t do for him to stretch too far. It could make people nervous.

“Oh, how wonderful!” He exclaimed happily, rubbing his hands together. “I was hoping to congratulate him personally on his return, it is quite a rare feat!”

And if Daniel was sniffing around him, that added credence to the rumours that the boy really had died. And possibly changed.

Now, if he could just speak to the young Jason alone, see how easily he could be swayed… if the boys were already friends, perhaps he could even plead Vlad’s case to Daniel directly.

Brucie gave him a dazzling smile, gesturing to Pamela jovially.

“Well, I certainly hope so! From Mrs Manson’s stories I was beginning to worry that Jason might be falling into some rough company.”

Vlad gave the woman a smile that would have chilled if he’d had Daniel’s ice core, but instead crackled with his own electricity.

“Oh, young Daniel may be a bit rough around the edges, but there’s no more loyal boy anywhere in the country,” he assured Wayne smoothly, and noted Tucker and the blonde girl he was with breaking away.

Off to report to Daniel, then. Good.

“Really, you can judge best when you meet him yourself,” Vlad all but purred, watching them go, “after all, you yourself know all about taking young men from rough circumstances and polishing them to a shine.”

Brucie’s smile was all proud paternal joy as he looked out across the room, and for a moment Vlad wondered how many of his interminable brood had actually come.

A young man was very suddenly at Brucie’s side and even the man himself seemed to startle, but his smile only grew as he clapped the boy on the shoulder.

“And here’s one of them now! Mr and Mrs Manson, Vlad, this is my youngest son Damian.”

The boy certainly had Bruce’s jawline, and the same wide eyes the press so loved, even if the eyes themselves were green. Any other similarities would be hard to spot as the boy fixed Vlad with a glare that could have been Daniel’s.

“Good evening,” he said curtly, and Vlad pressed his lips together to keep from chuckling.

“Why, such a stern young man!” Pamela cooed beside him, bending down to give her sweetest smile to the boy. Wilting just a little when he turned the glare on her.

Brucie’s hand tightened momentarily on the boy’s shoulder and his expression immediately smoothed out.

“I’m sure he’d much rather be off with his friends, but he was good enough to come tonight and support his brother,” Brucie explained cheerfully, giving Damian a proud smile.

“Wonderful to see young people who understand the importance of family,” Vlad nodded, keeping half an eye on the boy as he spoke. His eyes had narrowed just a little, probably looking for a patronizing tone.

At these kinds of parties, it’d likely be all he heard.

Still, Vlad settled in to make some idle small talk, whiling away the time until dinner. No serious business would be discussed until after the meal after all.

Perhaps he could persuade Brucie to introduce him to Jason.

**

It was Steph who zeroed in on Jason’s flash of white hair first, but Tucker who crashed almost directly into Danny and hissed the news.

“Vlad’s here and he’s complimenting you!”

Danny stumbled back to catch them both, staring in bewilderment.

“He’s fucking what?” He asked incredulously. Tucker nodded quickly, grabbing his elbows.

“Seriously, he basically told the Mansons to fuck off for badmouthing you,” he hissed, and now Sam was intrigued too.

“Vlad? Our Vlad? “Phantom is the greatest threat our city has ever known” Vlad?” She asked.

Danny elbowed her sharply and she rolled her eyes, but Steph definitely noted it down to ask later. Tucker nodded again, faster than before.

“Right? He’s definitely up to something.”

“Could be his new plan to win you over,” Steph added, closing the rest of the distance to tuck herself into the group.

Danny paused for a moment then grimaced and shook his head.

“Nah, it’s never that simple with Vlad. He knows I’m not gonna just hear some kind words and fall into his arms.”

Sam rolled her eyes, turning and firmly piloting their new cluster to one of the windows, out of the way of the less nosy eyes.

“Danny, it’s Vlad. He’s still convinced your mom just needs to be alone with him for five minutes to fall head over heels, no matter how many times she karate chops him.”

Which, yes, Steph was adding that to the questions list too, a smile tugging at her lips. She cut them off anyway, making pointed eye contact with Jason.

“Not that this doesn’t already sound fun, but I’m also pretty sure I just saw Selina Kyle,” she told him sweetly, and had the joy of watching him actually blue screen.

Just. Stared into space for fifteen seconds.

Then sighed and scrubbed both hands down his face.

“Of fucking course she is. Why not? Does anyone wanna call the Joker, see if he wants to join too?” He asked sarcastically, tossing both hands into the air.

Steph snickered and rose on her tiptoes to ruffle his hair, ignoring the confusion of their new friends.

“Hey, look at it this way. She’ll keep Bruce off your ass,” she offered cheerfully and Jason groaned louder, giving the window a speculative look like he was considering jumping out of it.

Tempting.

Sam leaned in, giving them both a sharp look.

“Who’s Selina Kyle?” She asked bluntly, and Steph paused for just a moment, wondering how best to put it.

How to describe the fucking disaster that was Batman and Catwoman to someone who couldn’t know either of their identities. Ah, yes, she knew.

“Bruce’s kleptomaniac ex-and-sometimes-current girlfriend. Every single conversation they have is riddled with innuendo and pussy jokes that she makes, and she’s been around since Jason was knee high.”

“So she’s got stories?” Tucker asked, eyes brightening as she twigged.

Jason turned and pointed his most menacing finger at him.

“She does not have fucking stories and you do not want to talk to her, she’ll steal the filings from your teeth,” he warned sharply.

Danny’s lips moved soundlessly for a moment and then suddenly the most wicked glee Steph had ever seen from anyone not a sibling lit his face.

“Jason… she has pixie boot stories, doesn’t she?” He asked in a low hiss, and Steph’s brows shot straight to her hairline.

Jason had only ever willingly worn pixie boots for one reason. Guess things with Danny were serious serious.

So how much had Jason told him?

From the way he was now glaring warningly at Danny, and Sam was rounding on Jason with intrigue, glee, and a complete lack of understanding, it was just Danny for now.

“We’re not talking to or about Selina,” he hissed, crowding up into Danny’s space and ooooh Steph wasn’t too worried about their mutual secret to miss that cute little blush on Danny’s cheeks.

Which also didn’t stop the man himself from grinning up at Jason, even if he did have to crane his neck back to do it.

“Does she have pictures?” He asked with a genuinely wicked glee that Steph just adored.

“Pictures of you in pixie boots?” Sam cut in, crowding up to Jason’s other side.

And now Jason’s cheeks were flushing red.

“They were in fashion at the time!” He defended weakly, and Steph had to laugh at that.

“Yeah, them and mullets,” she cackled and Jason shot her a scowl too.

“Weren’t you guys supposed to be keeping an eye on someone?” He asked sharply, changing the subject like that had ever worked.

Didn’t work on Tucker either apparently, and Steph liked that in a man as the Black guy gave Jason that pure and innocent smile.

“Yeah, Bruce and the Mansons, but that part of the show’s over. Damian’ll let us know if anything happens,” he dismissed easily, and Jason scowled.

Steph braced herself for the flare of green, especially when it had already been so close tonight, and was almost shocked when it didn’t come. When was the last time Jason had glared so much without it?

Maybe Danny did know what he was doing.

The rest of their families’ secrets notwithstanding, she decided that for the moment she had to approve.

It’d be subject to change, a bat never planned against new intel, but for now? She liked Danny. He was honest, easy going, and made her brother blush in ways she’d never seen before.

There were clearly secrets, but he’d dropped a big one on them already with his own Lazarus exposure. Secrets never lasted long in this family anyway, but Steph could wait on digging for these.

She had much more important things to do, like tease Jason mercilessly.

For now, she popped up on his other side to press a kiss to his cheek and ruffle his hair again.

“Well, I’m gonna go find Dick and let him know Selina’s around. Tucker, do you wanna find Tim? If he has you beside him Vlad’s way more likely to be confused,” she added innocently.

Like Tucker’s eyes hadn’t always lit up at the chance to hang out with Tim. She’d be offended if she hadn’t also seen the appeal.

The smirk Sam shot her meant the other girl definitely knew what she was doing, and Steph took a moment to grin back.

Yeah. Getting Sam Manson’s number before the night ended, preferably willingly. Girls gotta stick together, and mercilessly bully their mlm besties.

Tucker hesitated a moment longer, clearly also dying for pixie boot stories, but in the end his nerdery won. Surprising no one.

“Yeah, we’ll go spread the word,” he agreed dramatically, like it was all down to him. Then he pointed back at Jason, utterly unintimidated by a full mountain of muscle. “But I want pictures too!”

“No one’s getting pictures,” Jason said firmly, and Steph danced carefully out of earshot.

“I know where Alfred keeps the scrapbooks,” she called in a sing song voice, and was a little surprised not to even feel anticipation when Jason lunged at her.

Teasing him was usually a careful game, something she had to put her mind into. Watching the pit, calculating his limits, ready to fully run if he broke.

But he was so fun to tease, and it felt… yeah. Nice to wind him up like Dickie or Tim, or Bruce himself. Nice not to be prepared for a sudden attack.

It wasn’t like she’d have ever stopped if he had lashed out anyway.

Danny was good for him, for whatever reason. She shot them both finger guns, heading back for the middle of the room.

“Try not to get into anything scandalous,” she called, loud enough to turn a couple heads. Which would only help their primary, Manson related plans.

Jason flipped her off while Tucker hurried after her, chuckling to himself.

“So, scrapbooks?” He asked hopefully, and Steph shot him finger guns too.

“Not tonight, but it’s happening. We need a group chat.”

“We so fucking do.”

**

Bruce was not having a fun evening.

He’d been happy Jason had found a guest to bring. Over the moon, really. He needed a life outside of his crimes.

Less happy that Jason had held out on the name of his guest, only sending it when Bruce would be too busy to properly investigate, but he couldn’t exactly blame him.

Bruce knew he could be paranoid and overbearing, his kids made sure to remind him constantly. And Jason deserved privacy.

But it had quickly become clear that “Tucker Foley” and “Pit Helping Danny” were not the same person. Whoever Jason wanted to introduce them to, it wasn’t just his mystery date.

Fortunately one had led neatly to the other, the Mansons revealing the trick quite by accident. And they’d known a lot more about Real Danny too.

None of it predisposed Bruce well to the boy.

Apparently he was reckless, lazy, trouble prone, unmotivated, and a very bad influence.

It felt fucking stupid when he knew full well that Jason was a crime lord and official serial killer, but Bruce just didn’t want him to get into any more trouble.

And if this Daniel Fenton was still half the boy the Mansons knew, there was a whole other world of shady exploits he could be dragging Jason into.

Ghost hunters. Really.

Everyone knew about Amity Park’s “ghost problem”; a cheap way to drum up tourist dollars, just like Bigfoot sightings.

They’d tried calling the Justice League out more than once, but Constantine had marked it as a no fly zone. Which meant there was nothing supernatural there worth bothering with.

The regular Justice League had no time for claims of magical mayhem.

Vladimir Masters had been interesting too, both on the Amity Park perspective and in news about Danny.

As the boy’s godfather of course his opinion could be biased, but according to him Danny was a loyal, kind hearted young man. Still rough and tumble but hardly dangerous.

And he’d been right; Bruce had plenty of experience with that type of young person. He’d soon be able to tell just what this Fenton was.

But Masters could be a useful source there, both for information and potentially sympathy. He’d seemed to understand Bruce’s concerns quite well.

Perhaps after dinner he could catch up with the man again. Make some plans, a meeting somewhere a little more private, where his children wouldn’t all be listening in.

He didn’t want to give them the impression that he didn’t trust Jason to handle himself.

He was just.

Concerned.

Jason hadn’t been himself since before they’d buried him, tangled in that mess of his birth mother. He’d done terrible things, but he’d been lost.

Bruce would do all he could to help his boy find himself again, even if that meant taking a more subtle approach. He wouldn’t let Jason be taken advantage of.

Meeting with Masters would have to wait, however, because as they’d been chatting he’d caught sight of an unfortunately familiar slinky black dress.

He’d excused himself from the adults and slipped past Damian with a meaningful look, and followed her trail through the crowds.

She slipped through easily, winding between people and Bruce could easily guess just how many would be finding their pockets all the lighter for it.

He had to go a little slower, his broad shoulders making him more noticeable and kept him from her tighter squeezes, but she couldn’t avoid him forever.

For one thing, she clearly didn’t want to. He finally caught up at the foot of the stairs to the entrance, turned away from him to admire the lion statue at the base of the banister.

“Bruce,” she greeted without turning, leaning back and just knowing where he’d be. He hated being predictable, and yet… he couldn’t disappoint her.

“Selina. I didn’t realize you were coming.” He’d checked the guest list twice today, but there were always so many plus ones. He hadn’t invited her, but that’d never stopped her before.

She tipped her chin up to smile at him, hearing every unsaid word.

“And miss young Jason’s return? Why Bruce, I’ve known the boy almost as long as you have, I’m happy to see him alive and well.” It was a gentle reprimand, and for a moment he wondered if she’d expected an invitation.

If he should have asked Jason if he’d like her there. But then, which of his children had ever liked it when Selina came around?

Not least because she always broke the rules, and he always found himself letting her. Never the most important, never the one Jason broke, but…

Selina wasn’t his weakness, he didn’t have one. But she was a distraction.

He smiled back, calculated, charming. The one she liked to see in public.

“Of course. Have you seen him?” She might have valuable insights into Jason’s condition, though she’d refused to get involved since his… original return.

Not getting caught in family squabbles. He’d always liked that about her.

She hummed softly, leaning more of her weight into his chest, hand reaching up over her head to caress his chin.

“Not yet, but I’ll say hi eventually. Rumour has it he’s growing quite the harem,” she purred, and Bruce damn near choked.

Harem? Jason?!

“Oh?” Was all he managed, and even then he knew she heard the strain when he felt a low chuckle rumble through her back.

“Word has it the young Samantha Manson and her own date are both all over him. Poor boy, and his own plus one is being borrowed by half the Waynes. What have you been teaching those boys?” She teased, fingertips running just shy of his lower lip.

Definitely feeling where it puckered slightly into one of his minimal frowns. Nothing he’d heard about this “Danny” was setting him at ease.

Still, best not to let anything too real show.

“He’s always been good at making friends,” he allowed, gaze now scanning the rest of the room for his son.

Selina chuckled again, finally stepping away and turning to face him, giving him an appreciative once over.

“Now that’s a lot tamer than what I heard. I’ve heard that they’ve already bustled off to the back rooms, and reemerged en déshabillé,” she purred, and Bruce tensed.

Jason wouldn’t. Not with a stranger. Not at a gala.

True, it wasn’t on the (long, extensive) list of forbidden gala behaviours, but that was because it didn’t have to be.

Jason didn’t like following any of his other rules.

Jason was an adult. Bruce wasn’t… a fool. He was aware that quite a few of his children had grown up. And may, possibly, in an abstract way, have a sex life.

He didn’t like to fucking think about it at the best of times, but Jason? Who couldn’t control himself, who had those unpredictable rages?

No, he did not like that thought at all. His face must have set into stern lines because Selina’s hand was on his cheek again, brushing like she could smooth them out.

“Now now, Bruce. He’s twenty-two. Remember what you were like at that age?” She cooed, and that really didn’t help.

“That’s different,” he growled, keeping to the Brucie ranges with the iron control he’d prided himself on. The control Jason lacked.

Selina examined his expression for a moment longer then shook her had, patting his face just barely shy of being a slap. He caught her hand, gaze whipping round to focus on her again.

Just what she’d wanted, of course.

“Darling, you can’t stop him. You two are on rocky enough ground as it is, hmm?” She reminded him gently, voice low.

His grip tightened on her wrist, gaze flashing across her person.

“And if I searched your pockets right now, how many stolen rocks would I find on your person?” He asked equally quietly. Not changing the subject.

Just a good question.

Her eyes narrowed for a moment, then her lips curled into a smile and she stepped closer.

“Well if Jason’s left the back rooms free, you can search me as closely as you’d like,” she purred, pressing herself to him from shoulder to thigh.

And definitely felt him twitch in annoyance, grip tightening again. He forced himself to let go, step away, before his reactions could betray him further.

“Enough, Selina. Why are you really here?” He asked sharply, carefully balancing the line between Brucie casual and the answers he wanted.

She looked him over for a moment more then shook her head, half smiling.

“Touchy touchy. I’m here to give my best wishes to Jason, darling. Nothing more. And if some of these jumped up little pheasants find their tails a little lighter for it, I don’t think you really care, do you?” She asked rhetorically, turning away to slink back into the crowd.

Bruce considered following her. Pushing for more, working out what she really wanted.

It could wait until he’d checked the back rooms. Or found Jason. Whichever came first.

**

Frustration prickling across his skin, Damian ducked quickly away from another group of high society women, making for a quiet spot behind a large plant in an urn.

Galas were intolerable at the best of times, and this one was proving to be even worse. Todd’s new acquaintances were deeply suspicious but Drake and Brown already seemed enamoured.

Even Grayson seemed willing to trust them far, far too easily. It was… disappointing.

For all that Damian did trust their words when they said Masters was a danger, that certainly did not make them allies. He did not trust them.

They were all suspicious, from Foley being able to detect his presence to Fenton himself.

No matter what the others said, Damian knew that he hadn’t slipped. He’d not made a sound, not ruffled the tablecloth, and still he knew.

There was something off about all three Amity Parkers, and Fenton’s admitted pit exposure was only the start.

Normal people did not have access to a Lazarus pit. He couldn’t have named a single one not under the League’s control, not even a rumour. Whoever he was, however he had come to be exposed, he was not a civilian.

That he had died did not give him some sort of blanket acceptance. It did not solve the question of how, even if his other siblings did admonish him.

If Fenton had been exposed to the pit, knew its rage enough to help Todd, who’d been burdened with the worst rage Damian had ever witnessed, he was a dangerous threat indeed.

More dangerous because he was personable, and chatty, and friendly. He made them overlook him! It was crystal clear! Being charming to prevent them from growing suspicious.

It would not work on Damian. He had no use for charm or friendly chatter. He would remain focused, remain on guard even as Todd and the others failed.

He may have lost Father for now (intentionally; Damian had no wish to witness his painful flirtations with the Kyle woman), but he would stay focused.

He finally slipped into the solace of the plant’s shadow, and nearly bumped directly into the youngest Manson. He’d had no idea she was there.

Brows drawing down, Damian realized that Todd and Fenton were just a little further beyond, their backs to the wall but still close enough to be unnoticed. Both were watching Todd, who seemed pained by something.

“Were you not to be making a spectacle?” He hissed sharply, making both Amity Parkers jump.

Jason cracked an eye open and glared down at him, then at his two companions. Perhaps he was finally wising up to these new “friends”.

“They’re bothering me about fucking pixie boots. I didn’t want to do it in view of the whole crowd,” he grumbled and Damian’s brows drew further in.

Disappointing. Mere annoyance, not the suspicion they deserved. Whatever these “pixie boots” were, it was inconsequential.

He focused his attention on Manson instead.

“If you wish to antagonize your parents, you will need a much more public scene,” he reminded her, irritated that he needed to.

He may not trust the mission, but at least he could stay focused.

Manson rolled her eyes and waved a hand at him.

“Dude, being caught snuggled in a corner will get their hopes up just fine. He does have a point though,” she added to the other two with a reluctant sigh.

As if there was any doubt.

Todd frowned down at him.

“Why aren’t you with Bruce anyway? Wasn’t that your job?” He asked, when he should have been thanking Damian from distracting the other two from whatever this pixie nonsense was.

Ungrateful. This was why he preferred Grayson.

“He is pursuing Selina Kyle,” Damian explained, not feeling the need to go into detail. He didn’t need to as Todd’s face morphed into immediate understanding.

“Yeah, fair, not something for young eyes,” he agreed with a soft chuckle and Damian nodded curtly. He couldn’t imagine whose eyes or ears would enjoy such a display at any age.

Fenton was grinning again, prodding Todd’s shoulder.

“The voice of experience?” He asked in clear glee, and Todd grimaced.

“Unfortunately. So, Sam, want to hit the refreshments so I can offer you a drink?” He asked, waggling his eyebrows.

Manson rolled her eyes again but offered her hand, her other hand firmly tucked into Fenton’s elbow.

“I feel like I’ve come in half way through a movie and missed all the good bits,” she grumbled, and Damian was surprised to find he sympathized.

There was far too much going on here that he did not understand, and too many secrets. He would have his answers though.

Most importantly of all, the reason Jason was keeping so many secrets and letting strangers so close. But that would wait for another time.

Watching the three move towards the room, he checked his own internal clock.

Fifteen minutes. Father would likely not be done with Kyle yet.

He could stand to observe some more of these strangers. And perhaps their shenanigans.

From a distance, of course.

**

Vlad was having a wonderful evening.

Oh, most of the attendees at this event were simply sheep waiting to be shorn, the wealthy and well connected who liked pretending that meant they mattered.

But he’d already made some promising connections with Mr Wayne before he’d had to hurry away, and he’d given the Mansons a subtle reminder that Daniel was his.

Better that they do remember that, even if their relationship was a little… fractious. Daniel would see the light soon, student loans were an awful thing and Vlad could make them disappear.

It would be… nice.

He’d half expected the impulse to control, to train and raise the boy would end once he’d reached adulthood, but no. Daniel was 21 now, legally a full adult, and Vlad still craved that closeness.

Age was such an immaterial thing, though he was hoping that leaving his teenage years might also dull the boy’s rebellious tendencies. He and Daniel would have the rest of eternity together.

There would be all the time in the world for Vlad to teach his godson everything he knew, prove his value as an advisor.

He had once hoped that Madeline might one day become a ghost herself, but he’d begun to suspect it’d never happen.

Oh, she had the passion, the drive, but she wanted answers too much. She was determined to know what came after death, and when the time came to learn she wouldn’t balk.

She would leave him behind.

One day he may even wish to follow.

But not while her son lived (as much as either of them still lived) and needed guidance. Needed training, even if it did have to be disguised as combat.

Daniel could be something truly special if only he applied himself. Vlad would see himself Fade before he let that potential go to waste.

And ah, there was young Tucker Foley, tucked as usual up to Daniel’s side. Likely filling him in on what had happened with the Mansons.

Smiling to himself, Vlad adjusted his vest and headed over to say hello.

**

Tim was honestly surprised by how much he was enjoying the gala. He’d expected it to be work, spending the time gathering data and assessing Jason’s new boyfriend.

Recon.

It’d beat the usual drudgery on that alone, but he was actually having fun. The most important thing he’d learned about Danny so far was definitely his own connections to the pit, but…

Well, he hadn’t expected to like the guy. To bully Jason about him, obviously, 1000% that was just going to happen, but liking him on his own merits?

Apparently Jason had good taste. Who knew?

Tucker Foley though, Tucker was way more Tim’s speed. He’d come to drop the knowledge that Selina Kyle was floating around and then stuck around, cheerfully chatting tech.

Tim would be much easier to mistake for Danny hanging out with Danny’s friend. It didn’t even need to be said.

And Tucker was just… so easy to talk to. They drifted around the room, chatting and greeting various business partners of Tim’s, talking like they’d known each other for years.

Tim was 1000% checking if they had an internship for Tuck. Hell, if they didn’t? He was the CEO, he could damn well make a space in R&D.

Tucker hadn’t given him the full download on his PDA yet, but he was more than happy to talk about some of his simpler modifications, and Tim already wanted the rest.

The guy might enjoy a retro aesthetic over Tim’s futuristic designs, but who fucking cared? His tech ran on old mods as fast as Tim’s newest of new wrist computer.

And, yeah, maybe they were currently engaged in a hack-the-pentagon race rather than socializing like Bruce always begged them to, but it was fun.

Tim’d come to another gala if he got to bring Tucker. For sure.

As he had the thought, Tucker glanced up from his PDA for a moment and Tim took advantage. He’d been tracking Tuck’s progress (knew Tucker was tracking his, and fuck that was exciting), and delicately tripped the firewall ahead of him.

Tuck’s PDA blanked out and Tim sailed through the last levels of security, grinning broadly in victory. He wouldn’t try and get a worm in, Tucker would notice for sure, but getting him locked out?

Yeah, that was a win.

Tucker barely seemed to notice though, leaning in with a wicked grin.

“Vlad, 5 o’clock, moving in. Ready?” He asked quietly, and only then glanced back at his PDA. His face fell and Tim snickered.

“Totally ready. And in, by the way,” he added, showing the other guy his screen.

Tucker let out a truly heartfelt groan, shoving at his shoulder and Tim swayed with it, laughing.

“Hey, you know the game. You blink, you lose!”

“It’s called spatial awareness,” Tucker shot back, half his attention now focused on bringing the PDA back up. And probably stopping a couple Secret Service alarms.

Tim would have helped, but a deceptively strong hand had just clapped onto his shoulder. It felt possessive even without seeing the expression that came with it, and Tim shivered, grin sharpening.

Oh, yeah. That wasn’t gonna go well for someone.

“Daniel. Imagine my surprise at finding you here,” Masters all but purred behind him.

The urge to twist away from the hand, break the grip, or possibly just throw the asshole were all very strong, but something in that grip made Tim think it wouldn’t be that easy.

And he was here as a civilian.

He marshalled his expression into one of Brucie’s best, cool politeness and greeting, and turned to look over his shoulder.

“Imagine mine at such an informal introduction,” he said with just a hint of teasing, cocking a brow as Vlad snatched his hand back like he’d been burned, “have we met?”

And fuck the guy was tall too, because of course he was. Not quite as tall as Bruce, but… definitely close to Jason’s height if not his size.

And currently glaring at Tucker, who was hiding giggles behind his hand.

“My apologies,” Vlad ground out like he was chewing glass, gaze finally sliding back onto Tim with a calculating curiosity that was more than familiar. “And you are?”

Tim put on his best smile, turning and offering his hand to shake because he was pretty sure that’d annoy the man more than anything else.

“Tim Drake, CEO of Wayne Enterprises. And you are?”

And yeah, he didn’t like the smile that spread across Masters’ face as he took the hand, his grip firm and strong.

“Vladimir Masters,” he all but purred, actually giving a slight bow as he pulled back. Fucking weirdo. “Founder of DALV. CO and mayor of Amity Park.”

Tim blinked, the name suddenly clicking.

“You named your company after your own first name spelled backwards?” He asked, actual amusement sneaking into his voice.

Vlad raised a brow.

“Not an unusual practice, CEO of Wayne Enterprises,” he remarked coolly.

Tim grinned and spread his hands.

“Hey, I didn’t name it. You’re not wrong though, and I guess “Masters” has already been taken several times over,” Tim joked and Vlad’s eyes narrowed just a little.

“It is one of the unfortunate side effects of being a self made man,” he said with a convincing false humility… or at least it would have been convincing if Tucker hadn’t laughed.

Vlad’s eyes shot back around to the younger man like he’d forgotten he was there, narrowed again, and then his face smoothed into a shoddily sincere smile.

“And of course, Tucker Foley. We know each other through my dear godson, Daniel. I was quite surprised to hear that Daniel would be joining us this evening, Mister Foley. I don’t suppose you’d know where he is?”

It was the barest layering of civility and politeness, but since Tucker looked shocked by that, Tim had a couple guesses about their usual relationship. It did not endear Vlad to him.

Tucker didn’t stay off balance for long though, just shrugging and grinning. Tim finally got to see his utterly blatant lies up close and in person.

“Oh, is Danny here? I hadn’t heard. I dunno Vlad, I’m sure if he’s around he’d say hi. He’s really changed a lot though, not sure I’d recognise him.” All the same confidence he’d used to tell Dick his name was Danny.

Tim was maybe just a little bit in love with his sense of humour. Shifting until they were almost arm in arm, he grinned up at Vlad too.

“I do hope you find him, Mr Masters. Though I’m afraid if you think he looks like me, there’s plenty of us floating around. You know how Brucie collects the boys with dark hair and blue eyes.”

Vlad visibly flinched at the jibe, maybe not noticeably to anyone but a bat, but Tim wasn’t Red Robin for nothing. Still, he managed a decent answering smile and another weird little bow.

“Of course. Perhaps we shall speak again later, Mr Drake. There is a lot our companies can do for each other.”

Tim wouldn’t have let the opportunity go for a lifetime supply of espresso.

“Of course, don’t be afraid to reach out if you want to get in touch,” he said innocently, keeping his expression completely open in the face of a sudden and steely glare.

Quite sure he was being made fun of but unable to prove it, Vlad nodded stiffly and turned, walking away.

Tucker and Tim turned back to each other, grins suddenly broad and out of control. They had to suck them down quickly, one of the other boring businessmen approaching to “check if they were okay”, “so shocked someone would dare manhandle him”, blah blah blah.

No one who’d approached when Masters was actually around, of course. Just sucking up and enjoying the chance to smear dirt on someone with a little more wealth.

Tim would be very happy to smear a swamp on Vlad Masters, so he pretended his shoulder had been sorely wounded, rolling it and rubbing carefully.

Tucker actually looked concerned, hurrying him away to the refreshments table to grab him some ice. Tim let him fuss until they were away from direct witnesses, then tipped him a wink.

And the guy caught on fast, Tim had to give him that. They’d carried on to the table a little more loudly, Tucker keeping up a running commentary of “are you sure you’re okay?” While Tim did his very best Civilian Brave Face, But Not Actually Brave.

They even got him some ice, which Tucker held to his shoulder even though it felt fine. Just the visual was going to do a lot of work for them.

**

Distracted on his way to the back rooms, Bruce was alarmed to hear a couple talking about one of his sons being injured at the party.

His mind flashed immediately to Jason, though whether as the cause or the victim didn’t follow. When he heard it was Tim, worry shot through him and he forced himself to breathe.

Jason hadn’t done anything to hurt Tim in two years. He was actually more gentle with him than with any of the others, and Bruce didn’t imagine he’d faked all the regret.

It didn’t mean he couldn’t or wouldn’t slip again, hoodlum stranger monitoring the pit for him or not, but he wouldn’t make the accusation. It would hit too close if incorrect.

Changing course, he made his way across the room to find Tim instead. Best to get the information directly.

Tim looked well enough, though he’d draped his jacket over one arm while a young Black man - Tucker Foley, Jason’s mysterious plus one that he’d implied should be Danny - applied a makeshift ice pack to his shoulder.

Eyes narrowing, Bruce made his way gently closer, drifting through the nearby groups to pick up the local gossip. Though some lips closed when they spotted him, others opened faster.

There’d been some miscommunication between Tim and Vlad Masters, Vlad actually grabbing Tim and apparently mistaking him for someone else.

Their following exchange seemed to have been pleasant enough, but now Tim was “discreetly” seeking medical attention. Just how hard had the man grabbed Tim?

Masters had a firm grip, certainly, but he’d seen Tim slammed face first into concrete and walk away without flinching, broken nose and all.

He wouldn’t fuss about a real injury, not if he didn’t want an immediate assessment in the med bay when they returned home. He had to be faking, and Bruce knew why.

A message, likely to him and his siblings about Masters. Tim didn’t trust him, had found something about the man that warranted suspicion.

Masters had been very complimentary to Jason’s “Danny”, though even he’d admitted the boy had problems with authority. Was Tim telling him it was a lie?

But no, the boy tending Tim was Danny’s best friend, Tucker Foley. Tim could certainly fool a civilian into a fake medical emergency, but why would he involve Tucker if Danny was suspect?

Unless Tucker was potentially dangerous too, and Tim wanted him out of circulation. Away from Danny. Away from Jason.

Jason, who’d been so pleased to see the other young man only an hour ago. Now nowhere to be seen while Tucker tended to Tim’s arm.

Eyes narrowing, Bruce turned and made his way firmly towards the back rooms once more, eyes now sweeping the crowd for Masters.

It was possible Jason was no longer there, but he’d at least pick up the boy’s trail. He had to get Jason away from these people, at least until Tim could give a full report.

As he moved, he caught sight of Vlad Masters now approaching Dick and Cass, and nearly changed course again.

But no, Dick was a solid lad, he could handle himself and Bruce very much doubted a single person in the building could get anything past Cass.

They would be fine, whatever Masters was up to. They weren’t as unreliable vulnerable as Jason.

He had to get to Jason.

He couldn’t be too late again.

**

Cass did not like galas. To be fair, she didn’t know anyone who did.

She usually didn’t have to go; much less than her brothers. Bruce respected her desires for privacy, but she’d volunteered to go once.

It was a rite of passage Dick said, and he was usually right. It had been… well. She was one of Bruce’s later adoptees, long after it had become a running joke.

She had very nearly broken a man’s kneecaps for what he said about her brothers, but Cass was good at keeping quiet. Unobserved. Undetected.

Broken kneecaps were detectable.

Honestly, Cass was also the one who got into the least trouble at galas. She was used to sitting quietly while being verbally abused.

It was probably why no one ever tried to make her go. She’d gotten a little… lost in her own head the first time. It took days to find her words again.

Now if she went to a gala it was because she’d decided to, and someone stayed with her for most of the evening. Both so she didn’t have to talk to people and because that was usually why she chose to go.

Usually one of her siblings had planned something interesting, or needed her help. That was always fun, and they could chat in sign language about the assholes around them.

Today’s gala was double fun, because Tim and Dick had asked for her help with Danny (once they knew she was coming), and because Jason was fucking with Tim and Dick.

Cass didn’t choose sides.

She did like Jason’s new friend Tucker though. He was open and undamaged in a way very few vigilantes were. Perhaps he took a support role.

She’d known what he was since he spotted Damian, and the Amity Parkers even having their own evil billionaire was basically confirmation. Civilians just didn’t have those kinds of problems.

She hadn’t decided about Danny or Sam yet, but she did know that Jason already cared very deeply, which had surprised her. And probably Jason himself.

He needed more friends.

Cass would like more friends. Maybe someone for backup when she went overseas.

She hoped Jason’s new friends would be able to stay. They made him so happy, and tonight so very interesting.

It was easy to ignore the half-whispered comments as she and Dick moved through the crowd. Dick was a great performer, easily turning on the charm and making people smile.

All Cass had to do was smile at appropriate moments and keep an eye out, ready to alert him when it was their turn.

An older lady in a long blue gown was just telling them that Tim had been caught up in a scene when she caught sight of Vlad Masters making his way towards them.

Luckily Dick was already facing the right way, doing all the right expressions of wide eyed fascination. Sliding her hand from his elbow to bare wrist, she tapped out a message in morse code.

‘Behind.’

She didn’t need to look at Dick to know he’d received it as he shifted just a little, hand ready to pull from hers just in case. Apparently Masters already had a bad habit of grabbing.

Cass watched him from the corner of her eye, hidden behind her bangs as he stalked up.

Apparently he’d already learned his lesson; while he looked confident, he was moving more slowly, scanning the group. She let her hand drop from Dick’s before his gaze tracked down, shifting her position to “politely interested stranger”.

Dick gave a rather convincing laugh as their “informant” cut herself off quickly, spreading his hands and shrugging.

“Hey, Amity Park’s an informal scene. Not a big city like Gotham, right?” He said cheerfully, slipping easily into Danny’s tones.

It wasn’t perfect, but it wasn’t like he had to fool a voice recording. Cass switched to watching the older woman’s eyes widen as Vlad approached, and she held down a smile of her own.

Now if Vlad made a grab for Dick… but no, he’d learned well apparently, stepping in just a little too close to be casual at Dick’s left shoulder.

“Not downplaying our fair city, are we,” he began in a confident drawl, which faltered when Dick turned that wide, friendly smile his way.

“Oh, I’d never! Gotham’s got its troubles but it’s been my home for most of my life, Mister…” he let it trail into an obvious question.

Cass made eye contact with the older woman, whose eyes were still at that “deer in the headlights” strain. Seeing she had Cass’s attention she tried to discretely point with her fan to Masters.

And mouthed “that’s him” so obviously Masters couldn’t have missed it if he tried, her gaze snapping back to Dick. Civilians were so funny.

Eyes narrowed, Masters cleared his throat pointedly and stepped back, extending his hand to shake.

“My apologies… I thought you were my godson. He’s recently joined your university here, and I would hate to think he’s been letting the side down.” He sounded much more formal too, colder than the almost insinuating tones before.

This was a man who liked people to believe he knew everything, all the time. Didn’t like admitting a mistake. But still vain enough to make bold guesses.

Cass gave him a gentle, empty smile as she shifted up alongside Dick, ready to offer support.

Dick, meanwhile, was having fun.

“I know that feeling. Of course I was just a kid when I came here, but Gotham’s just so big and all enveloping. Why, I almost forgot about my home town completely!” He added with a light laugh.

Master’s expression tightened.

“Quite. And you are?” He asked, though he still hadn’t given his name.

Dick fake startled like he hadn’t noticed, catching the man’s hand to shake just after he’d started lowering it.

“Oh, I’m sorry! Dick Grayson, first of old Brucie’s wards. And this is my little sister Cass,” he added, other arm looping around Cass’s shoulder and pulling her in.

She held out her hand too, watching Masters’ eyes as Dick released him and he took hers, shaking like a perfect gentleman.

Not a flinch. Either he hadn’t decided she was lesser yet, or he thought they both were and there wasn’t much difference.

Less likely to underestimate her. Ah well.

She shook back firmly, not her strongest grip but enough that a moment of surprise showed as she released him, giving him her Gala Smile.

A polite, welcoming brick wall with nothing behind it.

Masters held his hand out for just a heartbeat longer after she let go, then tucked both hands behind him and pulled up a smile of his own.

Not real. But not fully forced.

“Ah, of course! I was told quite a few of you have come out to celebrate your dear brother’s return,” Masters said, a glint that Cass definitely didn’t trust in his eyes as he looked from her to Dick. “I am Vlad Masters, I was just speaking to your… guardian?”

“Our dad,” Dick corrected genially, and that was definitely jealousy that shot through Masters’ eyes, there and gone in an instant.

Interesting. He really did want Danny’s acceptance.

And he knew how to keep a public face.

“Of course, my apologies. I suppose you both knew long before we did that poor Jason had been found?” Masters asked, almost sounding sincere for the first time.

Dick clocked it too, his arm tightening around her for a moment before releasing.

“Yes. It was so terrible when we heard that he’d…” his voice trailed off for a moment, putting just enough into the grief to be convincing when he forced himself back a moment later, “but he’s okay after all!”

Masters stepped closer, honing in on perceived weakness like a shark.

“Of course, of course… it must have been such a relief,” he agreed, his voice almost oily as he lowered it, “and I certainly hope it’s not too much to ask, but I had heard that you had even buried him?”

Which, in the spirit of fairness, was a question Cass had been hearing in their periphery for most of the evening. But no one had actually dared say it directly.

Dick’s eyes went comically wide, like the thought had never even occurred to him.

“Oh no, you’re right… I wonder who we put in that coffin,” he gasped with fake horror, stopping just shy of clapping both hands to his cheeks.

Cass pressed her lips closed on a smile. Now no one would.

Even Masters looked surprised, leaning away but not backing down.

“So you know that it wasn’t…” he began, and Dick cut him off with a hearty gasp, swaying like the thought sucked all the strength out of him.

“No, of course not! I saw his grave last week, it was perfectly undisturbed,” Dick said breathily, leaning heavily into Cass and beginning to shake in suppressed sobs.

She pretended to stumble, steadying him and wrapping her arms around him. Masters was beginning to look a little alarmed, but underneath she was sure there was a hint of satisfaction.

Whatever he was pushing for (probably the pit contamination Jason had mentioned), he thought Dick had confirmed it.

Which was… odd. For his body to have been put in the pit, it couldn’t also be in an undisturbed grave? Oh, the grave could have been replaced, but he wouldn’t know that just watching Dick.

He’d have had to look in person, but there was no air of impatience. No hint of an intent to leave, to check something out.

He looked like he had everything that he could possibly want in this moment, except maybe for Dick to be less dramatic.

He took a step closer, directing his focus more to her as she “consoled” her brother.

“I am so sorry to have said anything,” he said quietly, his voice respectful and contrite even if his eyes weren’t, “I can see I’ve caused a great upset. Perhaps we should bring him somewhere to calm down?”

Before Cass could respond, the lady from before (who’d been hovering in abject glee for a second dose of Wayne gossip) butted in.

“Oh, young Cassandra can’t speak, Mr Masters. You know,” she added coyly, doing one of her special discrete fan gestures and whispered “a mute.”

Cass didn’t quite roll her eyes, shifting Dick more across her shoulders and guiding him off to one side. Masters hovered for a moment, clearly still considering assisting, but let the lady draw him into conversation instead.

Never mind that Dick was nearly half a foot taller than her and outweighed her too.

Nothing she couldn’t handle, obviously, or hadn’t handled before, but she couldn’t decide if it was annoying or suspicious.

Annoying from the woman. She was beginning to lean towards suspicious from Masters, though.

He was used to people being stronger than they looked. Or wanted to see if she’d fail. Either way, she added both to her notes on Danny too.

And, frankly, if Masters thought Danny might be Dick’s height when he was a little closer to hers? They hadn’t seen each other in a while.

She’d been sceptical when Tucker suggested the idea and she’d seen it on her brothers too, but apparently he’d still been fooled.

For all that he may want to be close to Danny… For all that he seemed exactly the sort to try and spy and maintain that air of omnipotence… he hadn’t gotten close in a while.

Good.

Danny was too happy to be put under that oppressive thumb. It was why Cass kept putting on her mask, and she’d happily do so again for the boy’s sake.

Nobody should have to see the worst the shadows offered.

**

Danny was having fun being dragged around the room by Sam while Jason flirted with her.

Jay knew just how to toe the line to stay on the “charming” side rather than “obnoxious”, introducing her to people and always listening when she opened her mouth.

Which was usually to reiterate stubbornly that she was here with Danny, or grudgingly answer some question about her life. He’d made her laugh more than once, and Danny figured it was aaaalmost time for them to stop pushing him so hard.

Frankly Danny was mostly just watching them both and enjoying not having to talk himself. Something about Jason turned on the charm sucked most of his snappy retorts right out of him.

Probably cuz he didn’t wanna accidentally hit the nail on the head and upset his new friend. No way to tell what would be a hot button, right?

It definitely wasn’t because watching Jason’s eyes shine when he laughed made Danny think of the stars. It’d been a while since he’d gone up past Gotham’s smog to stargaze.

Besides, he wasn’t the star of this show, so it was fine if he was mostly just exchanged grins with Jason while he and Sam talked.

Sam was having way more fun than she’d ever had at a party too, and Danny reeeeally hoped that her parents knew her well enough to tell.

She’d pull out Manson Party Voice whenever they bumped into another group, but when the three of them were making their way from one spot to the next? That was Sam’s real smile.

It wasn’t as bright and shiny and perfect as the fake one, but honestly, they weren’t comparable. Sam’s real smiles were small and much rarer than her plotting grins, but that made them special.

Val knew too, and Danny made sure he snuck a couple of candids of Sam laughing in her getup just for her. Sam Manson, happy in frills and bows?

Yeah, he also took a couple of her diabolical grins. And a couple of Jason in his suit, which looked waaaay better than Danny’s.

Jason had a lot more to fill it out, and maybe one day Danny would ask about his fitness routine. Fighting ghosts had stopped him from being a stick, but he was still ridiculously wiry.

This just in, fighting for your life with the bare minimum of training and mentorship? Did not make you a beefcake. Well, not if you also had laser eyes.

Danny’s eye muscles were probably better.

At least until he got Jason on his halfa training.

They’d all heard the latest Hot Party Gossip, about the mayor of some little town actually grabbing young Timothy Drake! The scandal!

There’d been another flash of protective rage from Jason at that, but this time Danny was expecting it and ready to soothe with some calm-reassurance-safe.

Seeing Tucker delicately fussing with an ice pack in a “discrete” corner had settled Jason down ironically, and Danny had to wonder how hard Vlad had grabbed him.

Yeah, he’d given Danny bruises plenty of times, but usually mostly after the fighting started. Or when Danny was being a little asshole.

Which, to be fair, was most of the time.

They were just watching Cass drag a sobbing, shuddering Dick past them towards the back rooms (and considering going to help) when Jason stiffened.

About to open his mouth to ask, Danny’s eyes snapped suddenly past the larger man and suddenly he didn’t have to.

Vlad. Behind and between Danny and Jason, looking… ruffled, almost, but very satisfied. Just the look sent a shiver down Danny’s spine before he even opened his mouth.

“Ah, Daniel. And you’ve been making a new friend, I see?“ he asked smugly as Sam and Jason wheeled to face him.

Danny came closer, moving in between them and stepping carefully in front of Jason.

Who growled softly, caught Danny around the shoulders, and stepped in front of him instead, close enough that Vlad had to take a step back or stand chest to chest with him.

And yeah, okay, maybe Danny wasn’t expecting that and it threw him for a loop. What of it.

“Yeah, he has,” Jason said, his voice suddenly cold and menacing in a way Danny had never heard before.

Even Vlad looked surprised, eyebrows rising at the tone.

“And you’ve been teaching him your attitude issues as well, how charming,” he noted to Danny directly, then gave Jason a sly smile. “Vladimir Masters. I assume Danny’s been telling you all sorts of stories?”

“He doesn’t need to dude, your vibes are rancid,” Sam snapped, rolling her eyes when Vlad shot her a glare.

Which, yeah, helped snap Danny out if it and he tried a step to the side to get back into view. And stifled a snicker when Jason moved with him, resting a hand on the taller halfa’s hip.

Calm-breathe-don’t give the game away

It was difficult to keep it local, since he was currently bathing the whole room in his energy. Although, since Vlad had already successfully found him…

Danny winched it back in, letting his aura go from overwhelming back down to conversational, shoulders settling as the pressure dropped.

Felt Jason stiffen for a moment under his hand, then relax, and yeah now Danny felt a little bad about that part of the plan. He hadn’t gone as big as Frostbite, but Jason didn’t react well to big auras.

Maybe it’d help him settle down.

He did at least shift aside enough to let Vlad see him again, and Danny gave him a cheeky wave just to see his face pinch.

“What’s the matter Vlad, worried about what I’d say?” He asked innocently, and enjoyed the way Vlad’s eyes narrowed.

Right up until Jason cleared his throat pointedly and Vlad’s eyes shot to him, widened, and the man stepped back. Which was… wild.

Vlad might be just a little taller, he didn’t have even half of Jason’s bulk but he’d never backed down from Jack Fenton before.

Then again, Jack loved Vlad and would never stare at him with such open threat in his face. Even for a baby halfa, Jason could exude an aura of menace.

Danny was maybe just a tiny huge bit loving it.

Vlad glanced his way again, teeth gritted, and stopped. His expression shifted enough that Danny had to actually look at him again, rather than vaguely watching while enjoying Jason.

Was that… actual conflict? On Vlad “I Know Best I Made The Universe From Scratch” Masters?

And then Vlad gave him a careful, polite smile that he usually saved for cops and adults and that was just too weird.

“Daniel, I understand that we’ve had our differences and I will admit my own part in that. But do I not even deserve a chance to make my own first impressions?” He asked, turning the same smile to Jason.

Who glared back.

“You’ve been running around and accosting my brothers, I think that’s a pretty clear first impression,” he pointed out, muscles flexing as he folded his arms.

Danny wasn’t gonna look. Nope. Focus on Vlad, focus on Vlad, you’d think it wouldn’t be hard with his actual nemesis in front of him but ooooh the fabric of Jason’s jacket was straining in a very interesting way.

Definitely stealing his training routine.

Vlad seemed to have deflated proportionately too, inclining his head in a sharp nod.

“Yes, well. I certainly didn’t intend to be so upsetting. Perhaps we can turn over a new leaf together, Jason? Daniel?” He offered with a slightly more strained smile.

Poor guy never did cope well when one of his plans went wrong. It was Danny’s favourite thing about him.

So he gave Vlad his very best shit eating grin and nodded, leaning against Jason’s side and crossing his legs at the ankles.

“Yeah, why not? We can get all buddy buddy together while I tell Jason all about that camping trip you took me and my mom on,” he said cheerfully, waving a hand. “Maybe I should send you on one some time.”

Vlad’s eyes narrowed, then his expression resolved into a snakelike smile as he pointedly looked at Jason instead.

“Certainly. And perhaps I can also show you some of Daniel’s baby pictures, Jason?” He hummed, voice suddenly silken.

Danny fucking stumbled as he rushed to regain his footing.

“What no fuck you you do not,” he stammered at the same time as Jason raised a mildly interested brow.

“Baby pictures?”

And Vlad had that stupid, annoying, self satisfied asshole smile on his face again. Like he’d fucking won something. He continued to ignore Danny and Sam, smiling up at Jason.

“Oh yes. His parents kept a very clear documentation of his early years, his first tooth, his first Halloween costume, all of it,” he said smugly, entirely confident.

Which just was not fucking fair. What the fuck was Danny supposed to say to that?

“There is no way his parents gave you those photos,” Sam snapped, folding her arms too and glaring.

Hero goth queen.

Vlad gave her a smug smile too.

“And yet I have them. Jack was delighted to bring me through all of the family albums, so I also have stories,” he added, shooting Danny a look that had usually accompanied an ectoblast.

Ectoblasts were better. Ectoblasts only hurt in the moment.

Danny groaned, closing his eyes and scrubbing his hands across his face.

“Alright never mind I liked it better when we were fighting,” he grumbled under his breath, startling a chuckle from Jason.

Vlad finally found a way to beat him.

At least until Danny could call his dad for college stories.

[hyenahunt]

Jun Sazanami - Sub Story 2: Curse of the Bastard Child

Writer: Akira

Season: Summer (ES!)

Characters: Jun, Jin

Proofreading: hyenahunt

Translation: royalquintet

Jun: You’re telling me my dad got his life ruined by this useless drunkard with a 5 o’clock shadow who gets smashed at his workplace?!

[Location: Teacher's Room]

Jun: ‘Scuse me~

Huh… No one’s even here. That’s pretty careless, y’know~? No one to blame but yourselves if anything gets stolen, alright? You coulda locked the door~!

(Oh…? Wait, looks like someone’s wiped out on the sofa over there?)

Jin: ...Yaaawn. Who’re you? That’s not our school’s uniform.

Ah… Right, you’re probably one of the kids in that joint event we have with Reimei. Well, welcome. Got some business in the teacher’s office?

Jun: Ah-- Uh, yeah. I came to turn in some forms and stuff.

Jin: Ohhh, good work.

Sorry ‘bout that~ It’d be a lot easier if we could just do it digitally. But we still have some old-fashioned folks here, so we have to do every little thing by paper.

Jun: Nah, it’s fine. It’s not like this was a whole lot of trouble or anything. Just a few papers.

But I had a few things I wanted to ask about…

We talked about the school who invited us--Yumenosaki Academy--paying for the expenses up to a certain point, but...

Are you really gonna be okay~? That idiot in my unit spends money like water, so I’m pretty sure it’s gonna be a huge cost to you guys. For real, you know?

Jin: I dunno, really. Our resident rich kid apparently has a hand in the budget, so we’re probably fine.

Go wild, if you want. I’d rather you kids have a good time since you dragged yourselves all the way over here.

Though it’s not really my place to say, since I’m not in charge of that Summer Live thing.

Wait here, I’ll get Akiyan-- Uh, the teacher who’s managing the plan for it.

Lessee… Huh? Where’d I put my phone again? Crap, I can’t remember anything after I opened my third bottle of sake.

Jun: ...You were drinking on school grounds? Uhh, you are a teacher here, right? Not just some bum who wandered in?

Jin: Ahh, it’d be pretty bad if the headmaster or some other higher-up found out about it, so keep it a secret, okay?

I thought my secret stash was gonna get found out, you see. I panicked and tried to drink it all but then I guess I blacked out.

Jun: Damn… I can’t even imagine that happening at Reimei.

I heard Yumenosaki went through a pretty rough patch, but seems like corruption runs rampant among the teachers, too, huh?

Jin: You know, you shouldn’t say that when there’s a teacher right in front of you…

It’s all good, though. They’ll overlook it as long as I’m not doing anything illegal.

Not like I’m demanding a favor from them, but I did earn a lot of money for Yumenosaki.

I just want ‘em to be more forgiving about my stupid behavior, to a certain extent.

Jun: …?

Jin: Ooh, there’s my phone. Hellooo, Akiyan? It’s me! Jin~

Yeah, there’s a kid from Reimei here… Can you deal with him?

Jun: Jin…? Wait, don’t tell me you’re…Jin Sagami?

You look real different, so I didn’t see it at first, but… Ah, now that I look-- You’re actually Super Idol Jin Sagami, aren’t you…?!

Jin: Huh? Are you my fan or something? I thought young‘uns these days don’t have a clue who I am.

Ahaha, you here for my signature? Nah, just kidding...♪

Jun: Goddamn! Who’d want your signature, you murderer…!

Jin: Eeek?! Wait, what’s going on? Why are you mad at me? It’s the terrible teens…!

Jun: Ugh, right, as if you’d know… You wouldn’t have the slightest recollection of all the rabble you crushed underfoot, would you.

My name’s Jun Sazanami, by the way. Ring any bells for you, Jin Sagami?

Jin: Wait… Unh, what? Sorry, my head’s still half-asleep…

Jun: …"Jun" sounds kinda like "Jin." Does that remind you of anything?

Jin: Huh? What do you mean?

Oh no… Crap, I don’t wanna deal with someone claiming to be my illegitimate child or something! I don’t know how to raise a kid!

Jun: Seriously, how long are you gonna play dumb… I’m pretty sure my father sent you a video around springtime this year?

Jin: What? Ahh, that thing! That cursed video!

It was pretty creepy, so I had it burned at the Hasumis’ temple, but I remember it had my saboteur-- I mean, my rival in it!

Right, his name was Sazanami! Wait, you said he was your dad… You’re his son?!

Urgh, I had a bad feeling about this and it was right on the mark… So, is that what you’re up to? Out to get your dad’s revenge or something?

You’re an era too late for that, though~ The law doesn’t allow for revenge, you know?

Jun: As if? My dad’s been pretty messed up for as long as I can remember…

Didn’t even treat me like a human, no love or anything.

I’m not gonna waste my life getting revenge for a bastard like that…

But of course I got curious, and from the videos I watched back then, I might’ve even kinda admired you just a little.

My dad was done in by such an incredible guy… I thought he might’ve been even satisfied with that.

So I’d accepted it and even felt kinda relieved. But now...

Ugh, fuck! God dammit, this is worst…

You’re telling me my dad got his life ruined by this useless drunkard with a 5 o’clock shadow who gets smashed at his workplace?!

Jin: No, um, but, I’m usually a bit better put together than this?

I mean, yeah, I felt sorry for your dad, but… I didn’t mean any harm. It’s just how things were back then.

Just go easy on me, okay?

And don’t say anything weird to the students, even by mistake… If you’re gonna have your revenge, have it with me.

I won’t complain even if it stings me. I earned it, anyway.

Jun: I said I’m not trying to get revenge. My dad may have raised me and sent me to Reimei for that purpose, but…

My dad’s my dad. I’m my own person.

Though if I take down your precious students… It’ll be like punishing the kids for their parents’ mistakes. Maybe it’d even make me feel a bit better?

My dad’s idol career ended in utter defeat…

But I can prove that when it comes to raising idols…he’ll outdo Jin Sagami anyday.

Haha. Ohiisan had to drag me to this Summer Live thing, but...I’m kinda looking forward to it now~

Jin: Mmgh… Well, it’s great that you’re excited about it, I guess.

But I do feel like the stage is no place to bring your thirst for revenge, or any other motives.

It was from giving into those kinds of scummy, dishonest thoughts that both me and your dad wound up losing our way.

Jun: ……

Jin: And besides. You act like it’ll be such a breeze to take them down, but our brats here are pretty talented themselves…

They may still be little babies without much experience, but don’t underestimate ‘em.

If you let your guard down, you’ll be the ones getting eaten up.

You don’t wanna repeat your dad’s failures either, right?

Jun: ...Thank you very much for the advice. I’ll really take it to heart, Jin Sagami.

✦✦✦✦✦

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[iclaimedtobethebetterbard]

of falling & skateboards

Fandom: Sanders Sides Characters: Logan, Virgil, background Remus & Janus Rating: Teen & up Relationships: Pre-romantic/platonic Analogical (first meeting), romantic Dukeceit (getting together), platonic Dukexiety.  Warnings: Language, Remus is somewhat suggestive throughout because he’s Remus, minor injuries Word count: 4541

Read on AO3!

My writing masterpost

Starlight Universe masterpost

analogical week 2021 start - previous - here - next - masterpost

Summary: Virgil's friend Remus drags him to the skate park and promptly abandons him in order to flirt with Janus; at least Remus had the grace to introduce Virgil to Janus's attractive friend Logan, who is just as poorly versed in skateboarding techniques as Virgil.

Notes: Day 5 of Analogical Week 2021! @analogicalweek Remus uses he/they pronouns; at this point, Janus uses they/them.  Takes place in my Starlight Universe, does not need context to read. 

 Virgil’s phone began ringing, making him jump. He fished it out of his pocket, planning to hang up until he saw the caller ID. It was Remus—one of his new friends. They’d met at a club Virgil had gone to during orientation, and they’d hit it off and started hanging out. 

Virgil picked up the call. “Would it kill you to fucking text me first?” 

“You don’t respond fast enough,” Remus said, sounding bored. 

“Sometimes I’m in class, Remus!” 

“Are you in class now?” Remus asked. 

“...No.” 

“So it’s all good, see!” Remus cackled. “Anyway,” they went on, steamrollering over Virgil’s objection, “you wanna come to the skatepark with me this weekend?” 

That was totally out of the blue. “What?” Virgil asked after a pause. “Why?” 

“So, my brother has this roommate, and he’s super nerdy and boring but I think you’d totally get along and he’s coming to the skatepark with me and you should totally come along and meet him!” Remus explained. 

His voice was a little too self-satisfied. “What’s the catch?” Virgil asked suspiciously. 

Remus gasped dramatically. “Can’t I just want good things for my friend?” 

Virgil waited. 

“Also he’s friends with Janus and he’s bringing them, which is obviously totally unrelated,” Remus added. 

“Aha.” That made more sense; Remus had told Virgil way more information than he wanted to know about their crush on this Janus figure. 

“So you’ll come?” Remus asked eagerly. 

It wasn’t like Virgil had anything else going on this weekend. “Sure. I’ll come distract your friend so you can flirt.” 

“Hey!” Remus yelped, loud enough that Virgil winced and held the phone away from his ear. “Listen, this is a win-win situation for both of us! You’ll love him. Promise. He’s so fucking boring and nerdy, you’re going to talk each other’s ears off. It’ll be great! Trust me!” 

“Sure,” Virgil said, amused. “Text me the time and place. Text me,” he repeated for emphasis, and hung up the phone. 

On Saturday morning, he met up with Remus and the pair of them walked to the bus stop. Remus had their skateboard with them; Virgil didn’t own one, but Remus had assured him that he could check one out at the park for a small fee if he wanted to. 

“You did not say it was fancy,” Virgil accused as the bus pulled away from the stop. 

“What?” Remus looked down at himself. “Oh. No, I’m just sexy, nobody’s supposed to be fancy.” He was wearing a gray sports bra—it was the first time Virgil had seen him without a binder on, but even in a public setting he seemed totally unbothered—and faded jeans with huge holes in the knees, as well as platform doc martens and an olive green bomber jacket with “HE/THEY” stencilled on the back in white paint above a pair of skeletal hands giving double birds. His belly button was pierced and he was wearing a chunky black piece with small silver spikes in it; they had fishnet gloves on their hands, a black choker with small studded spikes on it around their neck, chunky black and silver studs in the three piercings he had in each ear, and messily smudged black and silver eyeshadow. His dark green curls were pushed back into a tiny, low ponytail that did absolutely nothing to contain them or make them less messy. “Pretty sure this isn’t what normal people mean when they say fancy, anyway,” they added thoughtfully. 

“Shut up, this is fancy. You’re being fancy to impress your crush.” Virgil elbowed them in the side. He was only wearing his typical combination of band tee, skinny jeans, and black hoodie; he felt positively underdressed next to them. 

“Yes, I am very very sexy and this is my mating call,” Remus said with an easy shrug. “What can I say?” After a pause, they added, “Do you think it’ll work?” 

Virgil snickered. “Sure. Whatever. You look very punk. I’m sure they’ll be very impressed.” 

“Good,” Remus said happily. “Here, this is our stop.” 

One thing Virgil had learned about Remus was that they had what seemed to be actually boundless energy, and it showed in the way they walked. They practically skipped, moving at a pace so quick Virgil had difficulty keeping up. But Remus was especially energetic today, and it got worse the closer they got to their destination. He was practically vibrating out of his skin by the time the park came in sight. 

“There they are!” he exclaimed, pointing to two people standing in the shade of a tree and making conversation. “Jan is the gothy one, the nerd’s all yours.” 

Virgil screeched to a dead stop and grabbed Remus’s elbow. “Dude.”  

“What?” Remus looked at him with raised eyebrows. 

“You didn’t say he was hot!” Virgil snapped. 

“What?” Remus looked bewildered, looking back to the people he’d pointed out. His expression cleared. “Oh, right, I forgot you can be attracted to cis people.” He looked back at Virgil. “I dunno. Make out with him about it?” 

“Jesus Christ—no! I don’t know anything about him, for starters?”

“Fuck first, ask questions later.” Remus grinned. “Or if you don’t want to, then just get over it. People are hot sometimes. No big deal.”

Virgil spluttered for a moment. “That is such terrible advice, please tell me you don’t actually—”

“No, no, I’m marginally smart sometimes, don’t worry about me. But I don’t know what you want from me, dude.” Remus shrugged. “This really seems like a you problem.” 

“I need to mentally prepare myself before I talk to hot people! A warning would have been nice!” Virgil said, hiding in the hood of his hoodie. 

“Mentally prepare yourself now, then,” Remus said pragmatically. “This is really not my fault, I simply am sexier than you at all times and it gives me the power to say no thank you to being attracted to cis people. How was I supposed to know you’d think he was hot? Like, if you get all hot and bothered by glasses and the walking personification of a college textbook, be my guest, but I don’t get it.” 

Virgil groaned. “Actually, I’ve changed my mind, could you shut up about it forever starting now?” 

“Oh, absolutely not, but your complaint is noted,” Remus said. “C’mon, let’s go say hi, some of us actually want to flirt with the people we think are hot.” They grabbed Virgil’s elbow and dragged him over. 

“Remus,” Hot Glasses Boy said cordially (and dammit, he was tall, which was another thing Virgil found attractive). “This is your friend, I assume?” 

“Yeah!” Remus grinned. “Logan, Virgil, Virgil, Logan. Apparently you’re hot. He’s emo. You’re both nerds, you should get along great.” 

“Remus!” Virgil snapped, cheeks going hot with embarrassment. 

“What? What?” Remus demanded, then elbowed past Virgil. “Hiiiii, Janus.” 

Janus raised a singular eyebrow, looking for some reason amused rather than annoyed. “Hello there.” They eyed him up and down. “I like your jacket,” they added, very obviously staring at his chest in a way that Virgil suspected has nothing to do with the jacket. 

Remus grinned and did a little twirl. “Thanks, I decorated it myself,” he said, wiggling his shoulders. “Wanna see me do a sick kickflip?” 

“Sure,” Janus agreed, and allowed Remus to link his arm through theirs and drag them eagerly away in the direction of the skating area, already talking a mile a minute and beaming up at them. 

Which left Virgil alone with this Logan guy and no idea what to talk about. He coughed, shuffling his feet awkwardly. Now that he was up close like this, Logan actually looked familiar, but Virgil couldn’t quite place him. Shit. Should he know him from something? 

“Don’t we have History 104 together?” Logan said, breaking the silence (and saving Virgil from the approximately two dozen different social gaffes he knew he was probably committing by not knowing what to say) all at once.

Virgil breathed out a sigh of relief, because yeah, that was it; this was the guy who sat at the front of the huge lecture hall and always raised his hand (and his voice was unmistakable too, now that he’d spoken; Virgil would have placed him in another minute). “Oh, yeah,” he said. He had no clue how the guy recognized Virgil; it was a big class, and Virgil usually sat by the back. Maybe he noticed Virgil on his way in? Virgil guessed he sat kind of close to the door. It was possible. 

“What do you think of the class?” Logan asked, and for some reason he sounded genuinely curious, not like he was just making small talk for the sake of it. 

Virgil had absolutely skipped two class sessions and napped through another, but he found himself not wanting to admit it. “It’s alright, I guess. The professor’s kind of dry for me, but the readings are okay.” That was more or less true, although it was maybe the most positive spin on his opinion. 

Logan nodded, adjusting his glasses and absorbing Virgil’s words like they were actually important information. “He is a bit long-winded sometimes. I wish he would be clearer about which things he intends to test us on.” 

Virgil nodded vigorously. “Right? Like, what’s up with that? Why is he spending twenty minutes out of the hour telling us about, I don’t know farming practices, or whatever, if he’s just going to say ‘oh, but that stuff won’t be on the test, I just think it’s interesting’ at the end?” 

“Well, it is interesting,” Logan said. (Virgil disagreed, but held his tongue.) “But I do wish he’d be clearer about what he intends for us to be taking away from his lectures ahead of time.” 

Virgil nodded again, and there was a brief silence while he scrambled for something to say. 

He glanced over Logan’s shoulder at the skating area; Janus was sitting on the edge with their legs dangling into the area, watching Remus, who was skateboarding back and forth at a speed that couldn’t be safe. 

“So,” Virgil said, looking back to Logan because he was pretty sure he’d scream if he watched Remus tempt fate any longer, “you’re friends with Remus?” 

Logan made a gesture that wasn’t quite a shrug. “I suppose so. He’s my roommate Roman’s twin, and the two of them spend a lot of time together, so I think I am friends with him by association. I’m much closer with Roman. Not that I don’t enjoy Remus’s company. I simply don’t know them as well yet.” 

“Right, right,” Virgil said. 

“How are you acquainted with them?” Logan asked. 

“Oh, we met at a club during orientation,” Virgil said. “We hang out a lot. He’s pretty chill most of the time.” Well. “Chill” wasn’t really the right word to describe anything Remus did, ever. But it did describe Virgil’s feelings towards him. 

“Ah, I see.” Logan nodded. “Do you know Janus at all?” 

“Not really—I mean, Remus talks about them a ton, but we haven’t really met or anything,” Virgil said. “You do, though, right?” 

“Yes, we were in the same group at orientation, and now we’re friends,” Logan said. “They and I like to deconstruct TV scripts together.” 

That sounded incredibly nerdy, and Virgil wasn’t even sure what it meant. “Wow,” he said, not sure how else to react. “Fun?” 

Logan smiled, and fuck, Virgil had managed to forget he was cute for a minute there, but it was back in full force now. “It’s lots of fun,” he agreed. 

They made some more small talk—majors, hometowns, and so on. Logan actually paid attention to every word Virgil said, and he was surprisingly easy to open up to. He didn’t seem judgemental, instead accepting every word Virgil spoke as important. Virgil was actually starting to feel comfortable talking to him, which was… cool. Remus’s assessment of the way they’d get along evidently hadn’t been too off. 

After a while, Logan looked over his shoulder at Remus and Janus; Remus had coaxed Janus onto the skateboard, and was pushing them back and forth, his hands clasped carefully around their waist and a huge grin spread across his face. 

“Are you planning to try that?” Logan asked Virgil, gesturing at the little building off to the side that was renting out skateboards and safety gear. 

Virgil hesitated. “I don’t know… are you?” he asked. 

Logan made a considering face. “I might. I’ve never been on a skateboard before.” 

“Wait, really?” Virgil asked. He hadn’t in a long time, but he’d been obsessed when he was twelve. He didn’t think that he’d been very good, but it hadn’t been for a lack of trying. 

Logan shook his head. “No, never.” 

“Well, we’ve got to change that,” Virgil found himself saying in spite of all the common sense that screams at him to not do something with such a high likelihood of making him look like a fool in front of a cute boy who was also turning out to be surprisingly easy to talk to, and thus a potential friend, which was honestly way more valuable than cuteness. 

Logan looked pleased, though, like he’d been hoping Virgil would agree, so Virgil couldn’t find it in himself to regret the decision. “Together, then?” he inquired. 

“Sure,” Virgil agreed, and they made their way into the building. 

They rented a pair of skateboards and two sets of safety gear for the minimum time—thirty minutes, at $15 apiece, which was definitely higher than Remus had implied but Virgil did luckily have the cash to spare—and made their way out to the skating area. 

Remus was now skating in tight, fast circles around Janus, who was holding perfectly still and calm at the lowest point of one of the curves built into the area. Virgil was pretty sure they weren’t supposed to be in the area without a skateboard of their own, but he also wasn’t about to tell them off and bring down the wrath of Remus upon himself. The two seemed engrossed in conversation, anway. 

Logan led Virgil to a completely different space from that which Remus and Janus were taking up. Virgil was grateful; he didn’t feel like being made fun of, no matter how good-naturedly, by Remus at this time, and while Janus was likely interesting enough to keep Remus from following them over here, they would never have passed up the opportunity if Logan and Virgil had stayed anywhere nearby. 

Logan stared at the skateboard he’d set down before himself on a flat space, looking vaguely perplexed. “You just climb on, right?” he inquired. 

“Yeah,” Virgil said. “You can, like, kick off with your foot to move, and stuff. Kind of like riding a bike.” He instantly regretted the comparison, and tacked on a hasty, “Only, not that much.” 

Logan made a small “huh” noise. “Interesting.” He cautiously put a foot on the skateboard and tested his weight on it. “Oh, I do not like that.” 

Virgil chuckled a little, tugging at the strap of his helmet to make sure it was securely fastened. “Yeah, it’s a pretty weird feeling, huh?” 

“The ground should be stable,” Logan said emphatically, staring at the skateboard that he was still barely resting one foot on with an expression on his face like it had personally wronged him. 

Virgil snickered. “Can’t say I disagree with you there, buddy. But seriously, it’s not too bad once you get used to it.” He hopped onto his own skateboard as if to prove his point, but he hadn’t realized he’d set it up on the barest incline, and as soon as his second foot left the ground it rolled right out from under him. 

“Are you okay?” Logan gasped, reaching to offer him a hand up. 

Virgil half laughed, because that was the best option just at this moment, trying his best to ignore the wish to go hide in a hole in the ground until everyone left and then never talk to Logan ever again. “I guess I deserved that,” he said, trying to shrug it off. “Got too cocky.” 

“You still shouldn’t get hurt! Are you okay?” Logan insisted, hands fluttering vaguely like he was resisting an instinct to check Virgil for injuries. 

Virgil’s tailbone was a little sore, which he was absolutely not going to admit to Logan under any circumstances when he’d only known the guy for half an hour, but aside from that—“I’m fine,” he insisted, brushing himself off. “Uh, thanks for the concern, though. I appreciate it,” he added awkwardly. 

“Are you sure? You—” Logan began. 

There was a loud cry of “FUCK!” from just out of sight that was undeniably Remus’s voice, followed by a crashing noise. 

“Oh, fuck indeed,” Virgil said under his breath, and scooped up his skateboard. “Come on.” 

Remus was rolling over as Virgil and Logan came into view of him; Janus was already kneeling by his side, worry plain to see on their face. 

“It was a very cool fall, don’t worry,” Remus yelled over at Virgil, pushing themself up on their elbows. “Ow, fuck.” 

“That is not the part I’m worried about, idiot!” Virgil called back as Remus gingerly poked at his knees, which were both scraped and bleeding. 

“No no, I’m fine, leave me alone, Virge,” Remus insisted hastily, making some complicated hand waving motions and glancing meaningfully at Janus. 

Janus looked very put out by this. “No, you know what, I’m inclined to let him scold you! Why would you not wear knee pads?” they demanded, grabbing Remus’s elbow, helping them to their feet, and guiding them to the side of the rink with motions far gentler than their words. 

Virgil paused, watching to see if Janus needed help, but now that it seemed they had it under control much more inclined to give into Remus’s wishes and let them handle it. 

“Because anarchy,” Remus said, grinning up at Janus and leaning all his weight on them, legs shaking slightly. 

Janus pushed him to sit on a bench with a fury that still managed to be gentle. “First of all, that is not what anarchy is, and second of all, even if it were, that’s still an objectively stupid decision to—”

“Oh, no, what a terrible mistake I’ve made,” Remus said with a shit-eating grin that told Virgil he knew the definition of anarchy perfectly well. “If only there were a smart, sexy nonbinary person around who knew all about anarchy, who could tell me what it really is while they tenderly bandage my wounds!” They cast themself back on the bench dramatically, draping the back of their hand across their forehead. 

Janus flushed slightly. “You could have just asked,” they said, and though their voice still had an annoyed bite it was softer now. “You didn’t have to get hurt before I gave you more attention.” They sank to their knees on the ground in front of him, examining the scrapes on his knees. 

Remus sat back up, reached out, and cupped Janus’s cheek in his hand, leaning far into their personal space. “Trust me, babe,” he said, and then something too low for Virgil to catch that made Janus flush a brilliant shade of red. 

Remus grinned and sat back, his fingers slowly dragging against Janus’s skin as he removed his hand from their face. “I have a first aid kit somewhere in here,” he said in a more normal tone, digging in his pockets and procuring a small white plastic box. He hesitated, eyes flicking to Janus. “If you don’t want—”

Janus rolled their eyes and shook their head. “Give me that.” They grabbed the kit and flipped it open, pinning down Remus’s legs with their elbows. “Don’t move.” 

Remus only rested his cheek on his fist, gazing down at Janus with a look on his face far softer and fonder than Virgil thought they’d ever admit to, should he call them out on it. 

“So,” Logan said in a low voice to Virgil, “please help me out here. Are they dating? I can’t tell.” 

“I’m so glad I’m not the only one who’s unclear on that,” Virgil responded in a similar tone, going to go pick up Remus’s abandoned skateboard. “I—I don’t think so? From the way Remus talked about this beforehand, I would have been sure not. But then they—” He gestured vaguely at Remus and Janus. 

“Exactly!” Logan agreed. “I wasn’t even sure if Janus liked them back before we got here, from how they talked about him.” 

Virgil snorted, watching Janus gently sponging Remus’s knees clean with a shockingly tender expression on their face, which up until now had been haughty. “That must have been a trip.” 

“You have no idea.” Logan shook his head. “Alright. I will continue to allow it to be a frustrating mystery, since you don’t seem to have the answer either. Do you wish to attempt skateboarding again before we have to return these?” 

Virgil glanced at his watch; there were only seven minutes left. “I dunno. It feels like Remus getting hurt kind of killed the mood for it a little, you know?” 

“I can understand that,” Logan agreed. 

They checked their skateboards and safety gear back in (Virgil deposited Remus’s skateboard next to the bench he was on as they went), and then made their way back outside. The sun was starting to reach just the sort of angle in the sky where it was annoying no matter which direction you were facing, so Logan and Virgil retreated to the shade of one of the nearby trees. 

“Did you know,” Logan began, examining a fallen leaf on the ground, “that you can actually eat magnolia blooms?” 

“Wait, oh my god, yeah!” Virgil sat up. “I haven’t done it before, but I really like making preserves.” It was a good activity for days when his anxiety just wouldn’t go away no matter what he did, because it took a long time and a lot of hands-on work that always helped to take himself out of his thoughts for a while. 

Logan lit up, adjusting his glasses and peering at Virgil with keen interest in his dark brown eyes. “Really? That’s fascinating! Tell me more!” 

That was honestly all it took to get Virgil to start explaining his hobby, and if he’d thought Logan had been paying attention to him when he talked before, that was nothing compared to this eager interest to learn that Logan was now displaying. He asked just the right questions to egg Virgil on and on, and occasionally interjected facts of his own, some of which Virgil knew and some of which he didn’t. It sounded like Logan didn’t have much actual experience with preserving food, but a decent framework of theoretical knowledge. 

“I wish I could see what that looks like in practice,” Logan said at one point, as Virgil explained the way fruit jellying worked. 

“I mean, I bet there’s videos on YouTube,” Virgil said thoughtfully. 

“Yes, but it’s not the same, you know?” 

Virgil turned this over. “Tell you what. Jellying is a lot of work, and I don’t think we could really do it in a dorm kitchen, but here. Give me your number. I’m down to show you some kind of preserving method. I’m sure we can figure out a way to make it work with what we’ve got.” He dug his phone out and opened it to a new contact page. 

Logan’s eyes widened. “Really?” 

“For sure, dude.” Virgil handed him the phone and watched as he punched his number in. “It’s been a while since I did any kitchen work anyway, I could use the destressor.” 

“I would love that, thank you!” Logan said with an enthusiasm that was absolutely catching. 

Virgil chuckled. “No problem.” As he reaccepted the phone from Logan, he noticed the time at the top of the screen. “Oh, shit, it’s nearly three. Do you have anywhere to be?” 

Logan blinked. “Really? It doesn’t feel like it’s been long at all.” 

“I know, right?” Virgil agreed with a small laugh. Talking to Logan was surprisingly enjoyable, given how rare it was for Virgil to really like the company of new people.

“I do have a paper due tonight that I haven’t started yet,” Logan said thoughtfully.

“Dude, what? Oh my god.” Virgil felt the onset of deadline panic setting in, even though it wasn’t even his own deadline. “What do you mean, you haven’t started?”  

“Oh, it’s fine.” Logan waved his concern away. “It’s only three pages, I can do it no problem by then.” 

“But, like, research? Drafts?” 

“No, I already know it all. I can find sources to back me up easily. Trust me, I know what I can and can’t get away with when writing a paper. I only need to worry about drafts and research when it’s five pages or more. Anything less than that I can write the day it’s due and still get an A.” Logan spoke with an easy confidence that would be annoying in almost anyone else, but that somehow couldn’t quite manage to put Virgil off. Not after the absolute delight Logan had shown over the last half hour as he learned from Virgil. 

“If you say so. I still hate that,” Virgil told him. 

“That is what most people say when they learn about my homework methods.” Logan nodded. “Should we gather up our companions—oh.” His eyes widened as he looked over Virgil’s shoulder. “Um.” 

Virgil turned to look too. “Wow. Uh.” 

Remus and Janus were—well, to put it bluntly, they were making out. Much more extensively than was probably appropriate, given the public setting. Remus had Janus backed against a wall, with their legs around his waist as he held them up and kissed them, sloppy and desperate and gleeful, like he was on a mission to map and memorize the shape of their mouth. Janus was clinging to him tightly and kissing back like they’d never get another chance to. 

“Um,” Logan repeated again, frantically looking anywhere but at their friends. “Well. That is. Something.” 

Virgil laughed a little, also looking away. “Yeah… I mean. I guess now our question about dating is maybe answered?” 

“I hope so,” Logan said fervently. “However, just at this moment, I feel a strong inclination to, ah, pretend I don’t know either of them.” He chuckled, but Virgil got the distinct sense he was only half joking. 

Virgil snickered. “I mean, I feel like they’d deserve it at this point if we deserted them. Want to head back to campus together?” 

Logan perked up. “Really?” 

“Sure, dude. You seem pretty cool.” Virgil offered an awkward fistbump, and after staring wide-eyed at it for a brief second, Logan returned it. 

“You seem cool as well,” he said. “Shall we?” 

“Let’s do it.” Virgil got to his feet and followed Logan to the bus stop.

Virgil wasn’t normally one to get his hopes up, but he hoped this Logan guy would stick around for a while. He seemed like exactly the sort of person Virgil could have an amazing friendship with.

Taglist: @fivehargreeves05 

[emotionalsupportshelby]

Hi, I'm depressed it's almost 1am and I'm gonna blog my Peaky episode watch:

Episode: Series 4 episode 3

Let's go

My dad said Paul walks like a ape, and it's, all I see now... Like with both arms at the same time

Michael gives me so many mixed feelings but it's cute that his, adoptive mum showed up in the hospital

Village Michael was the best Michael

Does the adoptive mum know it was Michael's decision not to go back? She's out here, blaming Tommy, like babe... Tommy wanted Michael to go, he refused

ADA MY BABY

Polly counting the days she's gone without a fuck 😭 legendary behaviour only, you go be with someone unsuitable ma'am, we rooting for you

Hi Ada saying "behave yourself" is lowkey fucking hot

You never behave yourself Pol you go down with legends

Only Cillian could rock Harry Potter glasses with that Haircut and I am here for it

I'll make a post on this, later but Tommy needs a, woman like Linda, a women who gets him away for the Buisness

Im not a fan of Linda but Kate is gorgeous 😍

Why is everyone in this cast so hot though

No but I had to watch the Arthur and Linda, sex scene with my dad 😭😭 there's others but this is by far the worst 😭 I hate every time we get there 😭

"keep his balls empty and his belly full" Linda's mum >>>>

I hate myself for thinking this but I wonder if Helens hair drastically changed to this shorter one because she was going through treatment..it looks similar to my aunts, who went through breast cancer so I'm like 👀

Probably not cuz it's years before but.... Who knows

The paint fight scene must have been so fun to film... I love watching it each time

"I'm here as a lover of theatre" Me introducing my theatre nerd ass

I alwaud forget how good Adrien is in Peaky... Season 4 is one of my least favourite seasons but Adrien kills it as Luca even though I dislike his character in general

Arthur he had a fucking vote because it was planned to have the vote Just because you were getting fucked doesn't mean that stops

Arthur... John shoulda killed his teacher... Its not on you it's on his dumb ass

Kates smile is GORGEOUS

Arthur and Linda are a toxic relationship on each end and I hate that neither of them are getting happiness

She's trying to help you get out of the life which is damaging you Arthur, don't go Bat shit at her

100% found out that I've developed a new crush on Kate just now...can't wait to rewatch with this knowledge

"you have a lot of enemies" no shit mate... No fucking shit

JESSIE BABY HOW I HAVE MISSED YOU

and your muppet dress

You cannot say that that dress don't look like it's got muppet on

Ti's the Muppet dress..

Okay I made a post on this before but Cillians subtle yet heartbreaking acting when Greta gets brought up is a hyper fixation every damn time I watch this episode... Here's, my gif from last time

He looks so broken and I can't explain how much I love his acting choice there... Whether he even knew he was doing it or not

I'm so angry Jessie isn't coming back next series 😭

Her and Cillian had so much on screen (for lack of better word) chemistry and I'm sad we won't get any more of it 😭

Greta is still Tommys truest love and possibly his ownly love and I will go to my grave thinking that

Jessie/Charlie deserves SO much more love than she got and I'm forever bitter about how dirty she was done

Cillians acting in this scene is heartbreakingly subtle yet beautiful and I'm in awe

Arthur firing the bullet, I'm not a HUGE Arthur fan but he needs to go and get therapy and find happiness

Lizzie is under appreciated as the woman who isn't with Tommy... She is so much more than Tommy's wife

"Tommy said yes, Arthur said yes"

"but did God say yes" - I love Polly 😭

Finn trying to be in charge, bby no

As someone who has been to Blackpool... That is the happiest look you will ever see... I stayed at a hotel there for a con and it didn't even have a fucking window... We were in a box... I feel Tommy had the same experience

Lizzie, Polly and Linda arranging a girl for Finn gives more proof that he's fruity 🍓

"nice women don't do that sort of thing"

"yes they do, look at you" - we love sweet Tommy one liners 🥺

Hi if tommy wants to take me to the docks Id love that because it's, precious as fuck 🥺

He is fully in his head fucking Greta here but its still a fucking sweet moment and I love it

HE PROMISED GRETA HE WAS GOING TO CHANGE THE WORLD GUYS I CANT 😭

The way he goes back to talking business straight after having sex 😭 boy, rest dammit

"I don't want it like that ever again Tom" cuz you are interested in the other gender?

This scene woulda been a great one for Finn to come out to Tommy and I'm bitter it didn't happen, Steven recognise he ain't straight dammit

I remember watching the scene where Polly 'betrays" Tommy the first time and being so fucking pissed 😂 Still lowkey stresses me the fuck out

I always think I dislike S4 until I watch it and then I'm like damn... What a masterpiece ✨

Top 3 thinks I've thought:

1. Wow Kate is gorgeous and I hate that I've ignored it this long

2. Tommys romantic side who has his guard down needs to be shown more

3. It's not gonna be the same without Helen, I just pray they do it respectfully 🙏🏻🙏🏻

Ahhh that was fun... Hope you enjoyed my commentary 😂

(it's now 2am...oops 🙈)

[lyranova]

Hey hey. I see you're request is open! Can we get more yami x charlotte? seriously, we need more content of these two. do you mind if i'm going to be specific in this one? like one where they're in public and something big and serious happened, and yet yami just simply shows some affection even though charlotte is uncomfortable with pda? i want to see how you write this one out, and maybe i'll try to draw it???

Hi Hp~! Yep my requests are open hehe I opened them recently (i think?) anyway of course we can have more Yamichar! Yes we really do need more content with these two and I love writing for them so much 🥺💗! I’m sorry if this isn’t exactly what you wanted I kinda went big with the affection part instead of simple i’m so sorry 😅! Ooh if you do draw it please let me know so I can see it 🥺💕!

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 1,395

Warnings: Language

———-

It was the night of the annual Star Festival, and Charlotte was currently waiting for her boyfriend to finish work at his stall, she couldn’t help but laugh slightly, it was still very weird to call Yami Sukehiro her boyfriend. She had had a crush on him for a while and didn’t really think this would ever happen, so when it did she was pleasantly surprised. She was currently sitting at a small dining table watching him give orders to his squad. He finally walked over to her and sat down with a sigh.

“ I’m surprised,” Charlotte started taking a sip of her tea, she wasn’t going to have a repeat of the one time she decided to drink and actually missed the Star Festival. Yami raised an eyebrow before she continued. “ you’re actually letting them run the stall by themselves. Are you feeling alright?” She asked him, he scoffed before shaking his head.

“ Of course I’m alright, and they’re not actually running the stall by themselves. I trust them but not that much, which is why I’m sitting here watching every single move they make.” He told her with a smirk, she shook her head at him.

“ Will you ever trust them with anything?” She teased before taking another sip of her tea, she watched as he shrugged a shoulder.

“ I trust them with a lot of things; but that stand isn’t one of them.” He told her before grabbing a cigarette and putting it in his mouth but not lighting it yet. He looked at her glass and frowned. “ Aren’t you going to get something a little stronger than that?” He asked.

“ No I’m fine with this for now, I will not have a repeat of the last time I drank.” Charlotte told him with a small shudder at the memory, causing Yami to chuckle before taking the cigarette out of his mouth, deciding against smoking for the time being.

“ Hey I thought you were pretty cute when you were drunk after just one mug of that ale.” He teased causing her to blush and avert her gaze, she still had trouble getting used to his open flirting, wait, was he flirting or was he teasing? She couldn’t quite tell since they were nearly the same thing.

“ Uh Captain! Asta’s burning the food and might burn the stand down!” Finral suddenly yelled, the two Captains could hear Asta’s screaming as a huge ball of fire could be seen inside the food stand.

“ Dammit. I knew I couldn’t trust them with this much responsibility!” He stood up and looked over at Charlotte with an apologetic look. “ Sorry Prickly Princess, I’ll be right back, after I teach those punks a lesson.” He muttered as he stalked over to them, she shook her head as she giggled softly.

Yami talked a big game but Charlotte knew he actually cared for all of the members in his squad, sure he was tough on them, and yelled at them a lot. But he genuinely cared about them and would risk his life to protect theirs, it was actually very sweet. Charlotte felt the same about her squad; they were like her sisters or daughters, she loved and cared for them, was strict when she needed to be, and would also risk her life to protect theirs.

“ Excuse me, is this seat taken?” A young man spoke, Charlotte looked up at the voice and instantly her eyes narrowed. He didn’t even wait for an answer and sat across from her, she crossed her arms.

“ Actually yes that seat is in fact taken. So if you don’t mind-.” She began but the man quickly cut her off.

“ Funny, I don’t see anyone here.” He told her while looking around, she could tell this man believed he was the gods gift to women, and it made her roll her eyes.

“ Well he’s busy at the moment but he will be back shortly.” Charlotte told him as politely as she could, she glanced out of the corner of her eye and noticed he currently had Asta by the top of his head and was holding him in the air. She sighed, was that boy ever not in trouble?

“ I think you’re just trying to get rid of me!” The man laughed, he really was full of himself wasn’t he? “ But it’s not gonna work.” He added, causing Charlotte to roll her eyes once again.

“ Well you don’t have much of a choice; you can either leave willingly, or I can make you leave.” Charlotte said, she was very annoyed by this man and wanted him to just go away. But apparently he didn’t take ‘no’ for an answer.

“ Really? A delicate little thing like you is going to make me leave? I’d love to see that!” He told her smugly, Charlotte glared at him and stood up, she was going to show him how delicate she was when she suddenly felt a presence behind her.

“ I’ll admit I’d love to see that too, especially since I know she’ll kick your ass three ways to Sunday.” Yami said as he came up behind Charlotte and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “ Now, if I were you, I’d listen to this strong and very beautiful woman and leave before she makes you. Because once she’s done kicking your ass, I’ll start kicking it and it’s going to be a very bad time for you.” Yami added as he straightened up, using his full height to his advantage. The young man paled instantly and quickly got up from his seat and ran for the hills.

Charlotte shook her head before turning around, her face serious, almost comically so. Yami frowned and scratched the back of his head.

“ Really, Yami? I could’ve handled that by myself.” She told him deadpan, they both knew she was more than capable, but for some reason Yami felt the need to come over there and back her up.

“ I know you could have, I just wanted to make sure that punk knew after you were finished with him your boyfriend was going to make sure he was, y’know, good and dead.” He muttered the last part under his breath. Charlotte tilted her head a little bit as a sudden thought popped into her head.

“ Yami Sukehiro, were you jealous?” She asked, she watched as Yami blushed and looked away. That confirmed it. She had never really seen him jealous before and it was quite surprising to see.

“ Nah I wouldn’t say jealous I would say...more like…” He struggled, he couldn’t find a different word to describe what he was feeling. It wasn’t that the kid was better looking than him or anything, although, he guessed that kid did look more like the type others thought Charlotte should be with instead of him. He shook his head when she suddenly walked up to him.

“ It’s ok if you were, sometimes jealousy can be good for a relationship, I’ll admit I’ve been jealous myself a few times.” She admitted with a bashful laugh. “ But, let’s not make a habit of it ok? I am yours, and you are mine, and no one can separate us.” She told him softly. She noticed a strange look in Yami’s eyes and she frowned a bit before he surprised her.

Yami cupped her face between his hands and leaned down to place a soft yet very passionate kiss on her lips. Charlotte’s eyes widened in surprise, she may have looked calm on the outside but on the inside she was freaking out! He knew she wasn’t very into PDA, but then again neither was he, and yet he felt the need to kiss her right here, right now, in front of all of these people! She was a blushing mess, but when she realized she didn’t actually care what other people thought she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer.

The two parted after a moment and she was surprised to see a soft gentle smile on Yami’s face instead of the cocky one he usually had. She smiled as he leaned his forehead against hers.

“ Took the words right out of my mouth Prickly Princess.”

——-

Again I apologize if this wasn’t exactly what you wanted 😅! I had a couple of other fic ideas from your request if you’d rather I try one of those if you didn’t like this one? But i hope you guys maybe enjoyed this and if not I apologize! I hope you all have a good day~!

Taglist: @eme-eleff

[eagehaunting]

Mystery March 2021 day 12: Friend

This is actually a sequel to the day 10 prompt! I hope you all enjoy!

A heavy beat from the drums of one of the bands made Lewis’s heart race. With each beat setting off a new wave of impulses and urges. Tapping his fingers against his tequila, Lewis wets his lips and tries to keep his attention solely on Arthur.

Arthur, who sips his Irish cream eagerly and softly pants. Considering that Arthur had been jumping around and dancing around him within a crowd, as musicians blare and sweat drenched people collide, it wasn’t a huge surprise. But Lewis almost wished he was in the crowd again, distracted by the loud noise, head too full of euphoria to pay attention to the pesky thoughts that kept poking at him.

Kiss him, just do it. Look at his face, look at his lips. Do it. Do it-

The tequila rushes down his throat roughly. Lewis resists the urge to cough against the acidic liquid. Thankful that it stopped his stream of thoughts and turning to god this is horrible.

Arthur casts him a glance, sipping his drink and letting it hit the table a bit harder than usual.

“You like it? Your drink, I mean?” He asks, staring at Lewis with wide eyes. So unlike him and yet so... nice. The wall between them felt lower, and if Lewis wanted to, he could step right over and grasp those flushed cheeks and got a taste of Irish cream-

Another sip. Clenching his eyes shut as the bitterness has him shivering. Finally Lewis nods and squishes his near empty cup, hardly realizing that it was close to empty. “I do actually. Thank you for buying me a few, it’s been nice.”

“Your f-face says otherwise.” Arthur murmurs, hardly lifting his mouth from his straw.

Lewis bobs his head in agreement, “I think I drank a bit too much. I’m actually getting a headache now.”

“Shit,” Arthur swallows thickly and his hand shoots out, grabbing Lewis’s hand- his drink, pulling his drink from Lewis’s clumsy fingers with more grace than he imagined from the drunk man. “We-well then maybe we should head out? I t-told Ya’ I wouldn’t keep you out here long.”

Before Lewis could object to his drink being stolen, Arthur’s hands stutter, and the glass tips over.

“Fuck!” They both say at the same time. Lewis snags a few napkins and frantically tries to wipe, Arthur scrambles to grab the glass, failing to avoid spilling the drink. “D-dammit, Lew, I’m sorry- shit. W-want me to buy a drink to go?” Arthur asks, voice high with worry. Lewis flickers up, frown falling with a sigh.

“It’s.. it’s fine. Really, don’t worry. Pl-plus, one of us should be a bit more sober when we go to get a cab out of here.”

Deflating, Arthur nods and miserably tries to suck down the rest of his. He downs a quarter of the glass easily before sputtering.

Look at him. We never see him like this. He’s so cute, so nice, why don’t we just say it-

Lewis’s eyebrows furrowing as he eyes the wet napkins holding his distraction.

Shit. He narrowly glances at the kernels of popcorn left in their mini bucket to his left, and the small bag of leftovers besides his feet.

Arthur’s lightly bouncing his toes. Eyes drifting over the crowd of people on the hill surrounding a stage, where a familiar band plays tunes Lewis could faintly recall singing along to on the way there-

Arthur gasps. Reacting to a new chord. He whips back to Lewis, bowing across the table and smacking his fingers against the grated table. “Lewis-! Ca-can we stay for just this song? I really like it and as soon as it’s over we can leave-“

Reaching over the table and lightly touching Arthur’s hand, Lewis waves off His rambling.

“Sounds perfect. I can order a cab now and clean up, and after this song we can leave.”

Arthur’s eyes light up, he nods eagerly. “N-need some help?”

“No, I got it. Just sit back and enjoy the song, okay?”

The song is bouncy, reminding Lewis of a tropical beach. Palm trees and sparkling lights that zip across the night sky. As well as the interior of a night club. He faintly pays attention to the song as he unzips his backpack and pulls out his and Arthur’s jackets, when the chorus catches attention.

I wanna ruin our friendship,

we should be lovers instead.

I don’t know how to say this, ‘cus you’re really my dearest friend.

Lewis’s heart stills. This has to be a joke. A cruel joke set up by the universe. A chill takes across his shoulders as the heartbeat like drums tap into his own, making his fingers twitch in time. Dropping the jacket onto Arthur’s lap, Lewis mumbles a command to put them on before gathering his trash and quickly escaping to throw them away.

See? Everything is telling you to go for it. He’ll accept, he has to, just listen!

His heart races, pounds. Every thought turned into a reflection of Arthur, his best friend, his.. crush. And all he wants to do is grab Arthur and pull him into a tight hug and hope that Arthur will understand what it means.

No. He cant. He can’t do that, what if it ruins everything? Arthur might hate him, might detest him, want nothing to do with him, leave him stranded.

But he might not.

Lewis’s heart stills, his skin prickling as a breeze presses against his front. Pushing him back to Arthur.

Turning around, Lewis catches Arthur’s eye. His new black hoodie makes his bright hair stand out, and highlights the warmth on his face. Amazing, his perfect, handsome best friend, waiting for him to come back so they can leave together.

I wanna ruin our friendship,

I don’t know how to say this,

’cus you’re really my dearest friend.

Lewis clears his throat as his feet move without warning. “H-hey, Arthur, can I tell you something?”

What was he even thinking to say? Hey Arthur, I love you in a romantic way. Arthur I want to be yours forever. I want to ruin our friendship, we should be lovers instead-

Whatever sat on Lewis’s tongue vanished in an instant as he came within three feet of Arthur. His hands raised and grab at Arthur’s shoulders. Before Lewis realizes it, he’s leaning in.

Arthur’s eyes widen, Lewis’s eyebrows arch.

Their lips meet, and both of them freeze.

Lewis’s chest feels hollow as his heart fills it all with a racing beat, making his arms, legs, and stomach shaky as the moment replays again and again in his head. What may have been two seconds, felt like an hour before Lewis draws back. Panting, face and body tense, head throbbing with a new type of pain. His eyes searching desperately.

Arthur stares at Lewis blankly, mouth hanging open and eyes wide, face filled with shock or surprise or something that Lewis couldn’t really explain.

Arthur’s lip quirks up in what could have been a smile, but it’s apprehensive nature makes Lewis’s heart drop, “Wh-what was... Lewis? Why... what’s that about..?”

“I...” Lewis’s hands dangle there, lightly trembling. The song switches to something else with a roar from the crowd, becoming muffled as realization hits. “Arthur, I- I’m sorry. I didn’t think about what I was doing.” Tell him, tell him, TELL HIM! “I-I really like you, Arthur.” Lewis’s entire body shudders, weakness taking hold of every muscle as he tries to avert his eyes, only to land on Arthur. “I always have, ever since we were kids. I wanted- the entire trip I’ve been wanting to tell you, but I wasn’t sure how- or if it was even okay! I wanted to just s-say it. I’ve been wanting to kiss you this whole night, but I didn’t mean to force you-“

He’s lightly hit in the center of the chest, before Arthur grabs his shoulders. Lewis’s body and heart stills.

“Wait- seriously? You too? I- I mean we can keep kissing too if you want! I-I know I was kinda shit a minute ago, but I was just surprised.”

Wait huh? Lewis blinks as Arthur tries to close the gap between them again, but he pulls back, holding Arthur steady by his shoulder.

The incessant thoughts that were plaguing Lewis that whole day vanished, leaving him with his rational and his logic and a heavy cloud of what just happened looming over him. A storm cloud twisting in his racing chest and reminding him every way that this wasn’t okay.

But the tequila clouds his thoughts. All rational hidden in the cloud of smoke.

“W-wait. Maybe we can ... let’s wait until tomorrow? We’re a bit drunk right now, and I think that maybe we should talk about this when we wake up.”

He can only imagine Arthur’s thoughts spiraling by the confusion in his face, but Lewis pats his shoulder to snap him out of it. “N-not that I don’t think we should stop kissing, but I didn’t want our f-first to be like that. Right?”

Really, Lewis didn’t want Arthur to wake up filled with regret tomorrow. A measly kiss could be written off, but making out entirely? No. Lewis wasn’t going to allow it to go that far. His body already forced them enough.

They can wait.

And in fact, they did.

It wasn’t long waiting for their driver, not was it long to sit in the cab. Lightly brushing their fingers against the others and avoiding directly looking at each other. When they got back into their hotel, Lewis had to coax Arthur into the night ritual of brushing their teeth and undressing, as well as drinking some water before they crawled into their one, shared bed.

Lewis wasn’t sure how he managed to fall asleep so quickly, with his racing thoughts all surrounding his best friend beside him.

When he woke up, it all hit him all at once. The kiss most prominently lingering in his mind.

Being on his stomach let Lewis feel the cold sheets beside him, and lewis cracks open his eye to confirm that Arthur wasn’t still sleeping. In fact, Lewis caught a glimpse of the pale man leaning against the counter, with the familiar drip-drip of their portable coffee maker. The sun shining against his skin, making Arthur glow radiantly.

He might hate you. A thought points out, and Lewis closes his eyes to try and will away the churn in his stomach. The fear, the terror, the guilt...

His best friend, may hate him entirely...

Then as he shifts in his seat, a throb prickles through his head and Lewis groans unintentionally as the hangover blooms. He won’t be able to fall asleep now... maybe he should get it over with and get up.

Whimpering, Lewis pushes himself up and rolls onto his back, rubbing his palm against his forehead.

“Good morning, Lewis pepper.” Arthur’s croaky voice says, calm and gentle, Lewis could hear the smile on his face before he even opened his eyes. “Sleep well?”

“Mm,” Lewis groans and finally looks over at him, “I have a headache.”

“Hang over?”

“Yeah.”

There’s footsteps coming at him before a clink. Lewis opens his eyes, and a glass of water and two capsules are pressed into his face. Lewis takes it gratefully and swallows it back. Pushing himself off the bed, Lewis stretches and breaths in deeply, taking in the aroma of coffee and sweat from last night.

Arthur clears his throat, suddenly right behind Lewis, and becomes startlingly apparent when Arthur taps his shoulder and Lewis whirls around.

“So,” Arthur’s mouth is twisted up in his typical Kingsmen grin, it makes Lewis’s chest warm, “now that we aren’t totally blasted, let’s chat?”

It takes Lewis a moment to get over the surprise and embarrassment lodged in his throat before he nods. “Sure. I know I didn’t explain myself to to the best of my abilities. Perhaps over some coffee?”

“Sounds good. I have some brewing already, and I got your thermos ready for you.” Arthur thumbs to the kitchen and behind guiding Lewis there.

“Oh, how sweet.”

“Well of course, I am the sweetest!” Arthur says with a lazy flourish. Grabbing the coffee pot, Arthur begins to pour and Lewis takes his seat. Arthur then splashes in a sugar packet, a splash of milk, and a second larger splash of cinnamon creamer. His favorite, Lewis couldn’t resist smiling as he takes a sip.

“Thank you, Artie. It tastes really nice.”

“It does? Need any more sugar?”

“Hm,” another sip, “one more packet.”

Arthur tosses one to Lewis and takes a seat, folding his arms.

“So, I feel like I should ask one thing of you, Lew Lew.”

Pausing, Lewis hides his blush behind his thermos. Arthur continues.

“Give me a warning next time you’re going to steal my breath away?”

Lewis sputters and coughs into his hand, looking away. “I-I told you, I didn’t know what came over me. I’m not going to do it again.”

“And I didn’t think it would have happened at all. But one moment I was drinking Irish cream, jamming out, and the next minute all I could taste was tequila!” Lewis rolls his eyes and drinks his coffee as a distraction, and Arthur breathed out with amusement. “Not that I wouldn’t mind it happening again.”