#hiding

[lovelybeoms]

Through the curtains

summary: the suit was ocean and storm, effortlessly untouchable, a thousand miles away and yet somehow closer than the warmth still lingering on her wine glass - the camera adored him, but she knew the version of him that came home tired, that rested his head on her lap and said nothing for hours, because that was the kind of silence that healed.

pairing: beomgyu x fem!reader

genre: fluff, secret relationship, hiding

warnings: kissing, love language, soft smut

wc: 3,4k

notes: I tried a new writing style. i hope you like it. Have fun MOA ^^

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

She sat alone in the penthouse, high above the noise and lights of Seoul. The space around her was polished, expensive. But quiet, almost too quiet. Only the soft ticking of the clock marked the passing time.

Below, the city lived on, headlights flickering across wet streets, the low hum of traffic, the occasional distant shout. But none of it reached her in full. It was like watching life through glass.

And here she was, waiting for the door to open any moment, but nothing happened. Only silence.

She stared into the glass of red wine like it held secrets, not just a drink, but a slow, swirling galaxy of memory and waiting.

The light caught on its surface, casting blood-colored shadows across her hand, as if it had spilled and stained her skin.

It breathed in silence, dark and still, like a quiet storm that hadn't chosen where to fall.

Each sip was a question. Each reflection in the glass was a version of herself she almost recognized.

Outside, the city pulsed. But inside the glass, there was only the hush of longing, and the color of something almost like love but heavier.

She waited for Beomgyu like the moon waits for the tide, knowing he would return, but never quite knowing when.

He was somewhere out there, beneath studio lights and shutter sounds, wrapped in poses and fabric meant for others to wear, for fans to hold, for the world to claim. But he was hers, in the quiet, in the in-between.

Time moved like smoke, not in seconds, but in silences. She traced him in the air, in the soft hum of the fridge, in the whisper of traffic below, in the warmth he hadn't yet brought back home.

The penthouse felt like a glass cage, beautiful, hollow, waiting to echo with his laugh. And until then, she drank slowly, watched the wine swirl like a galaxy in her glass, and hoped he'd walk through the door before the night was over.

She scrolled through Twitter, unconsciously, without knowing why she actually did that. But then she saw it. A clip, brief as a heartbeat, buried between trending chaos and stan edits.

And there he was.

Beomgyu, wearing midnight.

The suit was ocean and storm, effortlessly untouchable, a thousand miles away and yet somehow closer than the warmth still lingering on her wine glass.

The camera adored him, but she knew the version of him that came home tired, that rested his head on her lap and said nothing for hours, because that was the kind of silence that healed.

And yet, seeing him like this, carved from elegance and light, she felt both proud and aching. Because the world could have a piece of him for now. But the rest — the real — belonged to the quiet where she waited.

Then it happened, the front door opened like a final note from a song. He stepped inside.

The suit he wore wasn’t just clothing him; it was like the ocean coming together with the galaxy. A rich, royal blue that caught the light like a wave right before it crashes, calm on the surface but full of motion beneath.

The lapels framed his frame like brushstrokes, sharp yet fluid, a structure carved from elegance.

Not a tie, just the clean fall of the collar, open just enough to be dangerous. And all only held together with one button.

He closed the door behind him, the soft click echoing like a punctuation mark.

She looked at him, and he looked at her, standing there like a quiet poem with a heartbeat.

The wine forgotten on the table, her eyes caught between disbelief and something softer, like relief dipped in awe.

A corner of his mouth lifted, not quite a smile, but something that carried the weight of hours spent apart.

He ran a hand through his hair, fingers brushing the gold like he was trying to shake the studio off him, and then he said, voice low, just for her:

“You saw it?”

Of course she did.

He stepped closer, suit whispering against the air, and added with a smile that always broke her a little:

“Did I look good enough to come home?”

A question wrapped in laughter, but underneath, the need to be seen, to be loved not as the image, but as the man beneath it.

She stared at him for a heartbeat longer, her chest rising with everything she didn’t say — the hours waiting, the clip on her phone, the way the blue of his suit made him look like a dream she hadn’t woken from yet.

And then she rolled her eyes, barely. Smiled like thunder behind clouds.

“Shut up,” she whispered, stepping toward him, her voice soft but edged with heat. “And kiss me.”

It wasn’t a request. It was a gravity.

And in that instant, the distance between them vanished. The city fell away. The silence shattered like a glass meeting skin.

His arms were around her, the suit still cold from the night air outside, but his mouth warm, familiar, hungry in the way only love delayed can be.

It wasn’t just a kiss, it was a homecoming — breathless, desperate, the kind that erased hours and healed them all at once.

He pulled her closer, as if she were the only real thing left in the world.

And for now, she was.

“You don’t know what it did to me… seeing you in that video glow,” she said, and also gasped softly as his hands traveled, not just touching, but memorizing.

“I bet you were glowing,” he said between wet kisses on her neck, like he wanted to know every single part of her.

“I wasn’t glowing,” she whispered, half breathless, half teasing.

He laughed into her skin, a sound so full it made her heart beat faster.

“No…” he murmured, lifting his head to meet her eyes.

“But I was. Just thinking about you.”

“You wore that suit like a god,” she whispered.

He smiled against her lips and whispered, “You undid me like a sinner.”

He pushed her into the big king-size bed and rolled them over, the shift slow, seamless, like gravity only existed for them.

Clothes fell piece by piece from her skin.

Now beneath him, she looked up, his eyes half-lidded, glowing in low light, hair spilled across the pillow like ink in water.

He traced his fingers down the center of her chest, then lower, dragging his palm along the curve of her waist, like he was rediscovering her by touch alone.

She arched into it, into him, lips parting not for words, but for breath, for need.

“You always do that,” she whispered, voice raspy.

“Take your time like you’re writing me like a new song.”

He leaned down, brushing his lips along her neck, tongue tasting salt, skin, the faint trace of perfume.

“Because I am,” he said. “Every time. Every touch is a line I never want to erase.”

His hand slid between her thighs, and she gasped. Hips rising instinctively into his palm. He moved with practiced reverence, slow circles, soft pressure, watching her fall apart piece by piece beneath him.

Her body responded like it knew him. Not just physically, but emotionally, soul-deep.

Every moan she gave him felt like a gift, and he took them like prayer beads between his teeth.

He pushed into her again, slow at first, letting her feel every inch, gripping her thigh as she wrapped around him, pulling him closer… deeper… like she wanted to disappear into him completely.

They moved together in rhythm, his name a broken whisper on her lips, her body trembling under his as pleasure climbed slow, like a fire taking its time to consume everything in its path.

“Look at me,” he murmured, breath shaking.

“I want to see you when you fall.”

And she did, eyes locked with his, lips parted in a soft cry as he drove her over the edge with one more deep, perfect thrust.

Her hands clutched his back, nails dragging, marking him in ways no photoshoot ever could.

He followed her seconds later, with a groan buried against her shoulder, his whole body tightening before surrendering completely, not just to the moment, but to her.

They lay tangled in silence after, barely touching, but still wrapped in heat. He kissed her knuckles, chest still rising fast.

“I missed you,” he said, almost boyish now. The idol gone, the man left behind.

She smiled, dazed, glowing. “I missed this,” she whispered, pulling him back down into her arms, where the world made sense again.

The room had settled into silence, a golden kind of heavy with heat, but light with peace.

His arm was slung lazily across her waist, bare skin against bare skin, their breaths slowly syncing like waves returning to shore.

She lay on her side, watching the way his lashes kissed his cheekbones.

Even now, there was something unreal about him, but here, with her, he wasn’t a concept.

He was just Beomgyu.

Warm, flushed, undone.

“You always come back wearing the world,” she murmured. “And then take it off in my bed.”

He smiled without opening his eyes. “It’s not the world I miss. It’s you.”

She laughed, soft, fingers tracing lazy lines across his chest. “You looked good in that suit.”

A pause. Then, teasing, “Too good. I almost got jealous of the camera.”

That made him open his eyes, dark, full of her.

He leaned in, pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I only pose for them. But I fall apart for you.”

She looked at him then, really looked. Sweaty hair pushed back, flushed cheeks, lips a little swollen from kissing.

And that suit crumpled on the floor like a memory.

“Do you ever get tired of it?” she asked suddenly, eyes searching his. “Being theirs all day, then coming home to be mine?”

He was quiet for a moment.

Then:

“Sometimes I forget who I am out there.” A breath. “But when I’m with you… I remember.”

She tucked herself closer, nose brushing his jaw.

“Then let me keep reminding you.”

He pulled her in tight, pressing his face into her neck, voice muffled but clear.

“Don’t stop. Ever.”

And in the silence that followed, soft, slow, sacred, the city kept moving, but they stayed still, wrapped in sweat, satin sheets, and something deeper than sleep.

NEXT MORNIG 

The morning unfolded in pale gold. Light spilled through the curtains, gentle and forgiving. The kind of light that made the world look kinder than it was. She stirred first, blinking sleep from her lashes, limbs tangled with his like the night hadn’t quite let go.

Beomgyu lay on his stomach, one arm draped across her waist, hair a mess of soft chaos, cheek pressed into the pillow like he had no plans to leave it, not now, not ever.

She watched him for a moment, smiling at the curve of his shoulder, the calm in his brow. He looked younger when he slept. Or maybe just real. No stage lights, no cameras, no velvet-blue suit telling the world who he was supposed to be.

Just hers.

She brushed a finger across his back, slow and careful, like waking a spell, not a person.

His skin was warm beneath her touch, and he shifted slightly, groaning low in his throat.

“It’s too early,” he muttered, voice thick with sleep.

“It’s past ten,” she whispered, her voice still rough from dreams and the night before. “You’re late for being beautiful.”

That earned a sleepy chuckle, muffled in the pillow.

Then he rolled onto his side, eyes still half-closed, lips finding hers in a kiss that tasted like warmth and laziness and love.

“Mm. Morning…” he murmured, nose brushing hers.

“Didn’t dream. Didn’t need to.”

She laughed softly, tucking her head beneath his chin.

“That’s because you kept me up all night.”

He smirked, even in his drowsiness.

“You’re welcome.”

They lay like that for a while, no rush, no calls, no makeup, no rehearsals. Just skin to skin, the sheets soft and the world still distant.

“I wish it could always be like this,” she said quietly, her voice drifting into the hollow of his throat.

Beomgyu kissed her hair.

“Maybe not always. But every time I come back, it’ll feel like I never left.”

The silence that takes place stretched like silk — soft, slow, holy. Until his phone vibrated aggressively on the floor, somewhere near where last night’s suit still lay, a crumpled monument to desire.

Beomgyu groaned and buried his face in her chest.

“If that’s the manager again, tell him I’m dead.” She grinned, brushing a thumb over his cheek.

“Dead men don’t kiss like you did last night.”

He laughed, and the sound cracked open the morning, bright and sleepy, like sunlight with a secret. Still, the phone buzzed again. And again.

“Babe, seriously—” she nudged him. “What if it’s urgent?”

With a dramatic sigh, he rolled out of bed, naked and gloriously unbothered, scratching the back of his head as he shuffled toward the phone.

“If this ruins the mood, I’m suing.”

She watched him with a soft sort of hunger, that rare sight of him unpolished, golden in daylight, hair wild, voice raspy, legs long and loose from sleep and sex.

And hers.

He picked up the phone. Read the screen. Froze.

Then:

“Oh no.”

“What?” she asked, suddenly sitting up, the sheet slipping a little.

He turned slowly, lips twitching in disbelief.

“The clip from last night. It’s trending. And—”

He looked up at her, eyes wide with mock horror.

“Someone spotted my suit in the background. Of your window.”

She blinked. “What?”

He held up the phone, sure enough, a grainy screenshot of the skyline. Zoomed in… just enough to catch the faintest outline of that electric-blue suit through the sheer curtains.

“Oh my God.” She covered her mouth, laughing into her palm. “We got caught by Twitter?”

Beomgyu was already climbing back into bed, phone tossed aside, pulling her under him with a grin that could burn cities.

“Then I guess we better give them something worth zooming in on.”

SOME TIME HAS PASSED…

They didn’t leave the bed for another hour, and by the time Beomgyu finally reached for his phone again, the notifications were a tsunami. Mentions. Tags. Fan theories. A zoomed-in, pixelated mess of blue fabric behind glass, captured by a fan on a night walk in Seoul. Now spinning into a storm.

#BeomgyuWindowGate was trending.

He stared at the screen, half amused, half horrified.

“Okay, this is getting out of hand. They’re analyzing the curtain folds now.”

She looked over his shoulder, barely holding in her laughter.

“Someone made a floorplan of my apartment,” she said, scrolling through a tweet thread. “They’ve got arrows and timestamps. It’s like a conspiracy doc.”

He flopped back on the bed. “This is why I don’t date civilians.”

“Excuse me?” she raised an eyebrow.

He cracked one eye open, smirking.

“You know what I mean. You’re too soft for this chaos.”

She leaned over him, hair falling like a curtain around them.

“Soft?” she whispered, voice low. “Was I soft last night?”

Beomgyu groaned dramatically.

“Okay, fine. You’re terrifying,” he grinned up at her. “My scary, stunning secret.”

And just as she leaned in to kiss him again, his phone rang. A FaceTime.

Manager Hyung.

“Do not answer that,” she said immediately.

But Beomgyu… answered it. Of course he did.

“Beomgyu! What the hell, man—”

Then silence, as the manager blinked. Saw Beomgyu’s messy hair. Saw her bare shoulder peeking through the sheets.

“Oh.”

A pause.

“…So it was your suit.”

Beomgyu grinned.

“Hyung, let me call you back. I’m busy being caught,” he hung up.

They stared at each other in stunned silence and then burst into uncontrollable laughter, falling back into the pillows, breathless and bright.

The world was watching now.

But in this moment?

They didn’t care. Because love like this doesn’t need hiding. It just needs holding.

LATER THAT DAY 

Beomgyu strolled into the HYBE building like a man who had absolutely not been caught in a scandal by a sheer curtain. Sunglasses on. Hoodie up. Coffee in hand, confidence in his step, but a tiny love bite blooming just above the collar.

Yeonjun clocked it immediately.

“Beoms,” he pointed, deadpan. “You’re wearing your guilt.”

Soobin, ever the polite leader, looked up from his phone.

Paused.

Then held it up to Beomgyu wordlessly, showing the trending tweet.

‘POV: You’re Beomgyu’s blue suit watching him commit war crimes through the window.’

“What did the curtain ever do to you?” Taehyun asked dryly, sipping his protein shake.

Hueningkai just giggled and whispered something to Yeonjun, probably a reenactment. Beomgyu dropped onto the couch with a groan, hands over his face.

“Okay. Yes. It was me. Yes, I was in the window. Yes, I got laid.” The room exploded.

“HE SAID IT—” Hueningkai yelled.

“You said it like it was a Grammy win,” Soobin muttered, scrolling Twitter again.

Yeonjun just gave him a long look, like he was proud and disgusted at the same time.

“Honestly,” he said, leaning back, “if you’re gonna get exposed, that’s how you do it. Designer suit, secret girlfriend, mysterious lighting. Aesthetic as hell.”

Beomgyu grinned, pulling off his sunglasses finally. “You should’ve seen her face when I walked in wearing that thing. She said ‘shut up and kiss me.’”

They all groaned in unison.

“Bro.”

“Disgusting.”

“Get out.”

But they were smiling. Even Soobin. Just then, Beomgyu’s phone buzzed again.

A text.

Her: Your fans are going feral. Should I post a picture of the curtain?

He chuckled under his breath. “Tell them I said thank you,” he muttered.

Taehyun raised an eyebrow. “To who?”

Beomgyu smiled, texting back.

“To the person who caught the photo,” he said. “They gave me a reason to finally stop hiding.”

A WEEK LATER

The internet had calmed down. Well… calmed down in the way a fire dims to embers. Theories still spun. Edits still trended. But the noise had faded into background static.

She sat in her apartment, phone in hand, the infamous curtain now a meme, her inbox filled with half-serious messages from friends:

“Girl, blink twice if you’re the window girlfriend.”

“Beomgyu owes your curtain royalties.”

“When are you dropping the skincare routine and the man?”

She laughed at first. Brushed it off. But part of her couldn’t help the nerves twisting in her chest. Because being seen, even a silhouette, felt like standing too close to the sun.

Until her screen lit up with a notification from WEVERSE.

A live.

TXT: BEOMGYU SOLO LIVE — “BLUE HOUR HEART”

Her heart paused.

She tapped in.

And there he was.

Hair tousled, hoodie off this time, eyes tired but bright, the kind of brightness that comes from truth unspoken, buzzing just beneath the surface.

“Hey,” he said into the camera, voice soft. “Didn’t really plan this, so… sorry if I ramble.” He looked nervous. That rare, sweet kind. Fidgeting with a ring on his finger. “A lot’s been said lately. And a lot… not said.”

A breath.

“I just wanted to talk to you directly. To everyone who supports me.”

The chat exploded.

He smiled at it, but it didn’t touch his eyes yet.

“You saw a part of my life I never meant to share.”

Pause.

“But maybe… maybe I’m done hiding the parts of me that are real.”

She froze. Fingers cold against the screen.

“There’s someone I care about. Someone who’s been with me when the lights are off.

When I’m not wearing a suit. When I’m not Beomgyu, the idol – just Gyu.”

He looked straight into the camera then, like he could see her.

“She makes me feel like home.”

The chat slowed. Time, too.

“And I won’t give her name. I won’t tell you her handle, or her address, or what kind of curtain she has…” a smirk tugged at his lips. “…but I’ll tell you this: she’s real. And I’m lucky.”

And then, he reached off-screen, grabbed something. Held it up.

That damn blue suit jacket.

“So yeah,” he said, “Guess I wore this for more than just a shoot.”

And then, he winked. Signed off.

Live Ended.

She sat in stunned silence, heartbeat like thunder in her chest.

Not exposed.

Not shamed.

Claimed.

Protected.

Loved, in his own quiet, defiant way.

And the world?

It didn’t crumble.

It just… shifted.

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚

[classycookiexo]

[feral-ballad]

Audre Lorde, from The Black Unicorn: Poems; “Journeystones I-XI”

[Text ID: “I am sorry / our night / was not black enough / for you / to hide in.”]

[asriel-2]

Too Much to Drink

Part two

Pairing: Tara Carpenter x Female Reader

Summary: You, Tara, Chad, Mindy, and Anika, all go to a party. You get a bit tipsy after seeing Tara flirt with a random guy. (After scream 5)

Warning: Slight makeout session, Sensitive Topics, Drinking, & Profanity.

Words counted: 1k+

There was no doubt that you had a crush on Tara Carpenter. You’ve been crushing hard on her for a while now. It’s a surprise she didn’t notice it.

You never dared to tell her or your friend group about it. You didn’t want to risk breaking you and Tara’s friendship.

So here you are at a party with your friends. A party you didn’t even want to be at, but were forced to go.

You are now sitting on a sofa, alone, as your friends wander off somewhere else.

You decided to scroll on your phone since you had nothing better to do, but you can’t help but notice something in the corner of your eye.

You saw Tara, and a random guy? Your attention immediately left your phone and went straight to them.

“Who the hell is that,” You say to yourself as you watched how Tara put a hand on his arm.

You felt disgusted at the sight of your crush and some random person flirting with each other. But you couldn’t help but keep watching them.

As you kept on looking at them, you suddenly feel a hand on your shoulder and can’t help, but slightly jump.

It was Chad. Anika and Mindy were behind him.

“Holy shit! Don’t sneak up on me like that ever again,” You said as your gaze finally left Tara and the guy.

Chad grinned and snickers, “Maybe you should be more cautious. What were you distracted by anyways?”

“Nothing that concerns you Chad,” You say as you looked away from him.

“Right..” Mindy said as she studied your face. She knew you were hiding something.

Anika joined the conversation, but just for a bit, “Ahem well anyways I don’t know what’s happening here and Im not sure if I want want to find out. Imma get some more drinks,”

Anika grabbed Mindy’s hand and left to wander somewhere else.

“Alright then, I’ll see you later!” Chad patted your shoulder before also leaving.

You sighed deeply, almost forgetting what you were doing before you got interrupted.

You turned your attention back to where Tara and the guy last were, but you couldn’t spot them anywhere.

You groaned because you got distracted with your other friends that you forgot to keep an eye on your crush.

But it wasn’t long until you spotted the two.

When you did. You saw them sharing a kiss. Your heart dropped a bit at the sight.

Your jealousy was spiking up but needed to keep your cool, you guys weren’t even together. She’s an adult she can do whatever she pleases. Right?

You decided to get off the sofa and get your first drink of the night.

As you took a shot of alcohol it burned a little but you felt like you couldn’t stop.

To bury your feelings you just kept on drinking and drinking until you couldn’t anymore.

When you stopped. You felt dizzy, really dizzy. You tried your best to lay down somewhere, because you were in the edge of throwing up.

It helped a bit but you were still feeling nauseous. You could barely keep your eyes open. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to drink that much.

You laid down on a couch on your back as you stared at the ceiling and closed your eyes for a bit.

You heard some footsteps walking closer to you and you opened your eyes a bit and tilted your head to face the person.

It was Tara.

You smiled a little bit when you saw Tar, but for her, she wasn’t so pleased with what she was seeing.

“Hiii Tara…what are you doing hereee?” You said, slurring your words.

“Jesus Christ Y/N.. are you seriously drunk!? Now who’s going to take me home now. Sam is going to be so pissed if she knows I went to this party.”

“Chill Tarrr. I am still stable.. I think.”

“You’re such a fucking dumbass..” Tara grumbled as she went to get some water for you to drink, “Drink this so you somewhat feel better,”

You went ahead and chugged the water down. You can’t help but keep staring at Tara as you did so.

Tara started to get weirded because you kept on staring at her.

Your eyes never left her face

You went ahead and spat out words you would never say if you were sober, “Has anyone told you, you are like really goddamn pretty.. everything you do is beautiful in my eyes.. you could be doing the most disgusting things and I’ll still find you perfect,”

The alcohol really got to you. How could you be that bold?

The Carpenter couldn’t help but feel a bit flustered. A small smile creeps up on her face but quickly goes away, realizing your just drunk and probably don’t know what your talking about.

“Shut up. You’re a drunk mess. Also do you know how incredibly stupid it is to drink that much. Don’t you ever drink that much again. Especially if-”

You weren’t even listening to her lecture all your attention went down to her lips and wasn’t going to leave anytime soon.

it wasn’t long until Tara caught up what you were looking at “My eyes are up here Y/N,”

You watched as her lips moved as she said that. Your drunk self had no more self control in you.

You suddenly went forward and kissed the Carpenter.

Tara was surprised by your action, but she surprisingly didn’t move away.

She grabbed the side of your face and deepened the kiss. You could’ve sworn you felt her tongue touch yours, but she moved away.

She quickly came to her senses and told herself that she shouldn’t take advantage of you while you were drunk.

She stepped away from you while you were still on the sofa, and walked away. Not speaking about what just happened.

Not even seconds later, you pass out. It was definitely the alcohol that got to you.

Some time passes by, and you wake up on your bed in your apartment.

You groaned as your head started to throb. It felt like it was about to explode. Probably caused by the hangover.

“What the hell,”

You say as you quickly check your phone and woke up with some notifications from your friends.

You soon figured out that Chad had to carry you and drop you back to your home, while you were reading the messages.

Then you click on Tara’s number.

There was one message she sent saying, “We need to talk.”

Well you’re fucked..

[stredsandfairydust]

Sokka will be hiding in the soft things for the rest of 2025 if anyome would like to join him.

[chasingrainbowsforever]

~ Teal and Red ~

[adkawariatka]

Hi, it turns out that fanfiction is really addictive and I still cant move past any recomendations without checking it out. So I have another idea for a dcxdp crossover….

Danny is living on Gotham streets for 4 months. Its perfect hiding place becouse of its aura. Many tradic deaths and general danger on every corner creats ideal barier for all sorts of ghost hunting equipment. Danny wos relucant about Gotham at first but after few failed attempts at finding hiding space, he decided that to hell with that and he will at least try. And thank the ancients that he did because its perfect. No one pays him any attention there is too much homless out there. Even if most kids are staying at Crime Alley seeking Red hood protection. thats one of the reasons why he hestitated at coming to ghotam: vigilinates. They are dangerous, becouse of partnership with goverment…. Who according to Anti-Ecto laws considers him non-sentient and in need of contamination or more often elimination. So yes Danny wos relucant but it turned out fine….. for now. No ghost or human gosthunter found him yet so he counts it as a success. Any other city, forest, mountains or everything else he tried didn’t last longer that a month. He might not be proud of his surviving technics like stealing, laying and dumpster diving but its not like he has a choice…. He is too much alive to be accepted in to infinite relams for good which is dumb if you ask Danny becouse he is at the same time its Crown Prince. But maybe Danny is just too naive or something. He does not care. On the other hand he is too dead to be accepted by humans so he kind of floats in between never to fit properly anywhere. He is surviving, and for about a year he wos completly alone until that one day…

Danny wos sitting on the bench in his favourite park close to lovely Café that had really beatifull cupcakes with blue whipped cream. He liked to pretend that he is a customer there and just waits for his order….that wos never placed…. Well who is he kidding he is just creepy homless kid that stares at people eating sweets from across the street. Pretty pathetic IF you ask Danny but he prefers not to dwell on his mental health thank you very much. So he is staring when a group of kids takes one of the outside tables. And like a serious creep listens in to their conversation. Well its not like he can swich off his super hearing.

The boys are talking about some homework from school. Danny assumes they are classmates becouse of their maching clothes. When to their table comes another one with darker skin and black hairs. The occupants share meanigfull glances and let the newcommer sit. Danny knows that look. It does not indicates anything good. Its the expression that Dash would make whenever he wos about to do something awful to him. Then the guy with blonde hair says

- Damian why don’ t you eat with us?

And then procedes to push the plate with cookies closer to the boy

- I thought I informed you Winser that I do not eat anything made of milk or other animals products. I am vegan.

Answered Damian with monotone voice. He sat incredybly straight and wos so stiff that Danny thought that must hurt.

- But its so good. beside I offered it. wouldnt it be polite of you to at least try?

Wisner insisted. Sly grin on his lips.

- Leave him be Mike he probably has problems with digesting such hard avaible products.

Said boy to the left with massive collection of pimples on his Chin. Danny named him spotty.

- I do not have any „digestive problems” as you put it Jenkin. I simply choose not to.

- of course pardon our lack of knowledge. Its just we worry that your… original diet wos a little lacking… or maybe you ate a little too much chocholate when you where younger. Thats all

And all of the group snickers to spotty „jokes”. Danny Thinks its primitive and disgusting. Racizm is low blow specially after Damians next words:

- I do not understand

And they laught even more. Damian just sits there confused and oblivious to insults vowen in to conversation. And Danny listens and decides that he must tell that boy the truth. He cant turn blind eye to that. He may no longer be a hero but that? He can help with that. Soon bullies get bored of throwing hidden insults at Damian and go away. Damian sits at their table alone staring at the crumbs of cookies. He looks lonely. Danny standard and walks over to him. But before he reaches the table his occupant whirles to face him. His eyes are very green. Not like ectoplasm but close. They are pretty expresive. Danny can see frustration and confusion in them.

-hi there!

Geats cheerfully.

- I don’t have any cash on me right now

Its the first thing Damian says to him. Rude Danny thinks even if he does looks like a beggar with his thorn jeans and dirty jumper, but he has a mission. And he does the one thing that helps him in stressfull, akward or life treathening situations: he turns it into a joke

- Shame but I will make an exeption for you and give you my services for free

- I am not interested

Damian seems irritated now. Danny procedes to ignore him and sits at the table.

- Well as an expert in friendship I can tell you that those guys weren’t your friends. Better keep away from them

- Thats none of your business. Go away

- well maybe not but you should know what they were saying to you….

And then Danny proceded to inform Damian about the hidden insults and racizem comments. Damian tried to say something and even walk away but Danny wos presistent. When he finaly finished Damian exploded

- Leave me you insolent lowborn go find yourself another imbecyle to milk for money! Or I will stab you!

- Wow that same fancy insults there. I havent Heard lowborn yet. Anyway have a good day!

And Danny proceded to turn on his heel and walk away. He left Damian dumbfoned staring at his back. if the boy decided to do something about this then good if not then Danny at least feels like he did everything he could in this situation.

-

Damian wos confused. That homless lowborn wos strange. He wos not familiar with Damian nor his family. But. Damian couldnt stop thinking about what he told him. About his classmates their words and hidden meanings. Damian wos not hier to Demons head and son of Batman without a reason. He had skills, keen mind and wos curious. So he checked, he spent almost all night reading different forums and sites about bulling and racizem. He tried not Think about how much he resembled Drake in the morning. What he found wos…. Not plesant. It turned out he missed a lot of signs of his position at school. It wos unbeconing of someone of his class. He wos glad to be aware of that problem but now he did not know what to do with it. Father and Grayson expected him to make „friends” and up until yesterday he thought he fullfiled their orders thru his classmates but now he realised it wos failure. He did not want father to Discover his mistake. So now he has different problem he does not know exacly what that „friendship” wos supposed to be. Internet wos not really helpfull, there were so many diversive definitions that he wos confused about what wos true. He wos not going to admit to father or Grayson his incompetence. He will find solution himself. He has one idea that just might work. The lowborn named himself expert in friendship. Damian just has to find him and ask. He seemed willing to sell his knowledge.

-

Danny wos a little confused and suprised to see angry boy from two days before him. In his defense Danny did not start this conversation. It wos Damian who came to his bench across the café and demanded his services. Which wos weird in itself even before he asked about the price. But he did remember that he made a joke about services so that checks.

- look I am not…

Started Danny but Damian cut him off.

- you introduced yourself as an expert in friendship so I require your services. I will pay generously.

God now Danny wos going to be arrested for child manipulation and thieft. No that can’t happen. He already is hunted for his halfa status that’s enough.

- Listen I don’t want any money. I joked that day. I saw a kid being bullied and stepped in. Further events does not concern me.

Danny tried to leave but the kid wos presistent.

- Well your knowledge proved usefull. I want more

-kid, Damian I don’t want to get in trouble by using you or something. I am pretty sure there is some paragraph for that. Ask Google, it’s better option. And without me involved

- you think I didn’t do it already?! I am not stupid, but the information there are contradicting itself and I can’t distinguish what is true and what is not!!!!

Danny looks at Damian. He is shaking a little, and his words are colored by desperation. Ancients this is trouble… but he wos in this situation before wosnt he? A boy who does not know basic social skills in foreign dimension…alone and lost. Fuck he can’t leave Damian hanging. He can feel his fear in the air. Damn ghost abilities.

- Fine what’s your problem?

-

Danny has been meeting with Damian for over 2 months now. the kid wos socially awkward but quick witted and genarlly nice company. Well Danny wos alone for so long that his judgement may be clouded by he does not dwell on that. It’s nice having someone around. And Damian talks to him. He missed that. First few meeting wos a little awkward but it got better. Danny tried to be helpful,?first they talked about the school interactions, who even wos a friend. But then they got deeper, it turned out that Damian knew about social interactions little to nothing. They talked about family how it works, what it should be like. It wos ironic considering Danny neglectful parents and dangerous home. But he knew how it should look like. Jazz make sure of that when she wos alive. Then Damian started to open up about his origin. Trainings, mother and weird hierarchy. Well Danny saw a lot wilder shit in the zone. A kid from assassin cult wosnt the most shocking but still fucked up. He thinks that Damian might be even winning his little competition: „who had more screwed childhood” He thinks that his calmness helped Damian to share. Ancients he feels like Jazz…. It is not that bad. Damian brings him snacks, becouse Danny refused any money. And Danny talks to him too. Tells him about the stars, laughs about stories of Sam and Tucker Damian will never know who is he talking about so there is no harm. First time from death of everyone loved he does not feel alone.

-

Damian didnt plan to get close to Danny. It wosnt the plan. But he wos such good listener. Danny wos systematic in his explanation of reactions and habits that are „normal” in society. He wosnt showing horror or acted surprised when he told him about discipline in league or it’s hierarchy. He didn’t even flinch when he conveyed stories of trying to establish his position in manor by attempting to murder Drake. He listened then pointed out how different manor and league functioned and then calmly suggested that he should talk to Timothy. Just like that no screaming or anger. Now he knows why father wos so frustrated with him. According to Danny family doesn’t have strict hierarchy or rules punishable by death. It wos strange to have everything finally explained. He understands so much more. He sees that Grayson tried to explain it to him before. But as much as he is fond of the man he wos unsuccessful in his attempts. But he still has one problem… father told him to make friends. It’s a mission that he is failing right now. And if he is being honest he is not talented in this department. Not that he will admit it to anyone… well apart from Danny. When he asked him what else he should do to accomplish this mission he got quiet and fidgeted for a while and then offered

- well if you want I can be your friend

Damian stopped his walk and stared at him. Did Danny filled all the requirements? He did helped Damian not expecting anything in return which friends are supposed to do according to Danny himself, his presence wos entertaining. They understood each other. Both suspicious of their surroundings and cautious in every situation. They know about each other a lot of useless information like favourite food (Danny loved burgers), colors, hobbies or general interests.

-yes that would be acceptable

Damian saw the happy glint in Danny’s eyes and the way he relaxed. They started to walk again as if it wosnt admission of most importance.

So I may post a little follow up about how Tim reacted to Damian apology? I will see. As you can see my writing isn’t the best sorry😅. So in here Danny’s family and friends from Amity are dead and he is 16-isch Damian is fresh from the league and is obviously confused.

[from-a-spiders-web]

Valentine Cameron Prinsep: The Flight of Jane Shore

[queen-of-paradise]

I'm trying real hard for the haiku bot to find my secret haiku.

[tinykittygardencat]

tiny hiding

[madcat-world]

Frazles (1 of 4) - Christian Bravery

[weirdlookindog]

Anita Jensen (b. 1957) - Linnun aika 1 (The Bird's Time 1), 2000

source

[vintage-tigre]

[whumpster-dumpster]

I don't know much of IRL avian behavior so it may not be accurate, I just like the idea of winged whumpees hiding under their wings when scared/bracing for the worst

[littleblackdot]

˙ᵕ˙