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tuliptired · 1 month

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hi! could you write anymore little looks at a humanities ta!reader x egon in college?

Do Wah Diddy Diddy

Pairing: Egon Spengler/Gn!Ta!Reader

Warnings: Reader is drunk for most of it

The egon/reader tag is so barren ;( Why nobody else dressed like a slut tonight?

INSANELY better formatting on Ao3!

Egon left his lab, surprisingly, stressed. His major didn´t often stretch him too thin, he knew what he was doing and how to do it best, but it was just that time of year. Lots of work, and not a lot of time to do it. He always managed, with lots of coffee and little sleep, it was just a fact of academia.

The outside world reflected the inside ecosystem of his fellow students, buzzing with life and blazingly hot. Plagued by the heated air trying to cling to the classroom, you cracked a few windows open as you taught in place of the absent professor. This wasn't out of the ordinary- the man trusted you enough to run a class, and you ran it like a natural, admittedly. But today was a little strained, your daily seminar not getting to the level of intensity it usually did. Egon would’ve made a comment on it as he got the last word in, but he decided against it. While you were a TA, there was more emphasis on the “A” in times like these, evident in how you scoured through notes for other classes when you had a spare minute.

They worked independently, before you lifted your head out of a notebook, one of many fans blowing some of your hair off of your forehead. You glanced at the clock, before quickly setting up a projector and unboxing a handful of identical, thick books.

“Big assignment,” you started, a few complaints sounding from the students, “it wasn’t even me this time, blame Mr. Coulms.”

He left the lecture room in a worse mood than he entered it, the thick tome under his arm. A play. He was a great reader- he could read each edition of Tobin's Spirit guide cover to cover in an hour if he was looking to cite something. Scientific journals were light entertainment to him. But plays? You actually had to dissect a play. To dissect it, you had to read it- well.

He leaned against a bookcase, in the not-leaning-but-leaning way that he does, so as not to disturb the books. He would be searching for something like Ray was, crouched on the ground and investigating the bottom shelf, but he wasn’t in the mood, glaring at the text he was given before placing it on an empty shelf beside him.

They were tucked away in the basement of the Public Library- it was one of the few places that they could ask for books about harnessing pure protonic energy and campfire stories of the 30’s without being looked at weird. Peter messed with the straps of his bag, ready to go and saying so for the 3rd time.

“In a minute, Peter.” Ray placed a few books next to him, searching for the right one that happened to be inconveniently smaller than the one’s surrounding it. He looked up at Egon sympathetically.

“I’m sorry, Spengs. But I did this one in high school, and it was a lot of fun!” His optimism was cut short as the rest of the books along the wood fall towards the middle like dominos.

“It won’t be hard, Egon. Do the voices.’ Peter procured a rubix cube from his bag. Egon seriously didn’t know why he carried it around, as it was never once solved.

Ray fumbled with the books as he tried to Dewey-Decimal their placements in his head. “I’ll help. Just, uh…” He looked around at the mess he made. “Can you look around for ‘Ghastly Apparitions of the Appalachian’? We’re gonna need it, too.” Egon only nodded, eager to clear his head a bit. He remembered the author well enough, weaving through aisles to find the proper section.

He didn’t make it far, there was a reshelving cart in his way, his feet coming to a halt. As he looked up from the roller, you were standing there, hands on your hips.

“Doesn’t look like you’re studying very hard.”

He sighed a puff of air out his nose, as you peered over his shoulder. You saw two men on the ground, grabbing handfuls of discarded books. “And your friends are messing up my hard work.”

He glanced back at the men, then back at you. “Is there anywhere you don’t work?” He didn’t intend to be in a confrontational mood this afternoon, but a bad class will do that to you.

You pointed to a pin on your chest, which read your name in small print under ‘BOOKKEEPER’.

“Nope. How many people do you know have a gold plated name tag?”

“Waste collectors and prison guards.”

“Did you need a book? Because you’re in the library?”

He had his hands resting on the handle of the cart, not noticing until you dragged it to the side, taking away the partition between you. “Ghastly Apparitions of the Appalachian by Gregory Lederer.” He expected you to not know what he was talking about, and stand there dumbfounded. But you pushed past him, making your way to the “L” aisle of the General Knowledge section.

Your eyes scanned the spines of various options. “I don’t remember this play taking place in Appalachia,” you moved on to the next row. He followed you like a dog, unsure of what to do while you helped him.

“It’s personal. Scientific.”

“The title’s a little oxymoronic, then, no?” You finally found it, examining the covers quizzically.

As he reached out for the book, you pulled your hand back. Egon wanted to be annoyed, but it wasn’t in him.

“Actually read the play. Do the voices.” Your own voice had the tone of someone trying to reason with a child. He reached his hand out, again, and you placed the book into his palm, conceding.

Though you had a modest smile, Egon couldn’t help notice your tired look, under eyes darkening despite your efforts otherwise. He could understand, this was a hard time for everyone, no matter their field. Before he could show you his commiseration, against his better judgment, you let the book go limp in his grasp, passing by him with a small “see you, Mr. Spengler”.

Peter appeared in his line of sight amongst the maze of shelves, as Egon stood dumbly. A voice told him to “clean up my basement” as he passed by.

“It appears we’re not wanted here. Let’s go, Egon.”

When it was officially late, you sat in your dorm, finally having time to sit and work. You had to skip a proper lunch, mindlessly putting a baby carrot in your mouth every 10 minutes as you snuck a binder under your desk at the Public Library. By the time you were on your bed, feverishly taking notes, checking notes, and reading notes, you were barely halfway done with your studying itinerary. This week was sufficiently kicking your butt, to say the least.

The door opened and shut, revealing your roommate, Christine, setting her bag down on the chair nearby. You barely verbally acknowledged her, looking for a specific page in your textbook. She gave you a once over, before making her way to the fridge, but unable to stop taking you in.

“Did you hear what I said?” Christine asked you, skeptical.

“Don’t think so-” Page 392.

She poured herself a glass of something, eyeing you as she did. “I said, you need to relax a bit.”

That was easy for her to say. As much as you appreciated her and her companionship, all Christine did was relax. Still, your flow was disturbed, and you reluctantly put your materials down.

She continued now that she had your attention. “You don’t hang out anymore. It’s Friday.” She crosses to stand in front of your spot on the bed, effectively tapping you in the conversation.

“There’s some guys in my advertising class throwing-” You can tell what’s coming next, and you shimmy past her as she exclaims in protest.

“Come on,” she follows you around, nearly pleading with you. You sighed, stopping as she leaned up behind you. It wasn’t that you didn’t like fun, or being with friends- parties just stopped being your scene a few semesters ago. How’s that for maturity?

“I’m telling you like I’ve told you a million times before. That’s just not my domain.” Christine spun you around, intent on not giving up until you caved.

“You guys always get drunk, then you get pissed, then I’m dragging you home and helping you puke it all up.” She rolled her eyes.

“We’ll only have a little- and,” she pointed an accusatory finger to your chest, “to be fair, you wouldn’t have to do all that if you drank a little yourself.”

You pointed the same finger back at her. “So we can all puke together? What a fun night.”

Christine made the sign of the cross then, pointed her fingers to the sky virtuously. “I swear on my life; we’ll know when to stop.” When she opened her eyes, you still weren’t convinced.

“Pleeeease? If it’s lame, we’ll leave and rent a video and get a pizza. But you might have fun.” She looked at you with those big blue eyes, and it took all of your strength to resist. She pleaded with you again, until you finally broke, covering your ears.

You groaned dramatically. “Alright, fine, fine. I’ll go to your stupid frat party and get smashed on cheap beer.” Christine cheered, making her way over to the phone.

“I’ll call Dean and Lisa and-” you flopped back onto your bed. Staring at your long forgotten work, you wondered if this was the right choice.

Egon read the line, waiting patiently for Ray to respond from the copy he borrowed himself, as the man read for all other 11 characters of the play. It was about two rulers from warring countries forced to live together in a dungeon, but he just couldn’t grasp what was so special about that. It was late into the night, the dorm only illuminated by a few lamps and the little bit of light pouring in from under the door. After hours of trying to evade it, both men had only made a small dent in the long drama.

Ray pushed his reading glasses up. “You need more conviction, Egon, I don’t feel like your wife right now.” Egon closed his copy, putting his forehead in his hand against his desk.

“I don’t think this is working.”

“Are you doing improv? ‘Of course it’s not working, you-”

“No, Raymond. This book isn’t working.” Egon slid it away from him, the bright red cover hurting his eyes, and his pride.

Ray looked sad for his friend, taking off his glasses. “The only way to do it is to read. I’m sorry.” He tossed his book onto his bed. “But we can take a break. Whaddya wanna do?”

Egon remembered it was Friday, the day most young adults would use to unwind. He reached into the drawer beneath him, emerging with a miniature Tesla coil Ray had fashioned.

“You read my mind, Spenges!”

The two men were engrossed with messing around with it, placing numerous objects on and around the transformer- granted that any other flammable or conducive thing they owned was moved out of the way. As Ray teased the sparks with a pencil, he suddenly recalled something, eyes flashing and wide as he dropped the writing utensil.

“Peter has my car!” He grabbed each side of his head, almost comically as he could picture it- a nice, clean Camaro being trashed by beer and bodily fluids.

Ray was just short of spiraling, stuck on either racing down to the party himself or bawling in the spinny chair. “I’d go there myself- and strangle the life out of him,” he nearly wept, covering his eyes.

Egon let his eyes shut, before willinging himself to his feet. He’d never, ever associate with any sort of party, let alone one at a fraternity. But Ray loved that car, his dad’s graduation gift to him that’s been his pride and joy since freshman year. His friend barely even drove it around, afraid to raise the mileage too much. He didn’t doubt Ray’s conviction, or ability, to show it to Peter for going against his wishes, but the engineer was in hot water with the hosting students. One complicated party trick gone wrong, and the front lawn was ablaze quicker than he could control the little ball of plasma. It was their sophomore year, but he still wasn’t welcome near the block of brownstones he managed to devalue.

“Thank you, Egon, I promise I’ll repay you,” Ray’s eyes were glossy with tears as he pressed his face impossibly close to the glass of the window, trying to spot his baby driving somewhere down the street.

Time lessened the heat, Egon thought to himself. It was dark, but not a long walk off campus and a block or two away from the party. It wasn’t hard to find it, either- the music was loud and the bacchanal activities spilled out onto the street and into neighboring yards. No sign of the car. He wrinkled his nose. In the last stretch of freshman year, Peter tried convincing him and Ray to join a fraternity, rattling off a laundry list of reasons that it’d be a thrilling experience for the trio. He was obviously unsuccessful, and dropped the idea when he realized that it’d be hard to make friends in the already tight knit community.

Egon didn’t dare touch the doorknob, evading people lounging on the stoop as he entered the large house after someone, using his foot to keep the door open. It smelt strongly of booze in the hot, dimly lit apartment, music still blaring from an unknown source. Not to mention the hazy smoke that was billowing through the air, hard to avoid with his height, much like the sounds of two people making out behind the couch. Infection central. How were all these people still going this late? He had to step over the passed out body of some guy without a shirt to get to the kitchen.

As he stepped from the carpeted area to the tiled floor, arms quickly wrapped around his middle. His head snapped down, and there you were, head buried in his chest.

“Hi, Egon,” you smiled sweetly up at him, eyes glazed over and voice syrupy, not as precise as you made sure it was. He blinked a few times, noticing not only your shoes standing on his, but the fact you called him by his first name.

“Hi.” He reveled in the confusion, before pulling you away from him, gently. “Have you seen Peter? Peter Venkman?”

You thought about it, before the memory flashed back into your recollection. “Dr. Love? He left with my friend Christine.” Your voice slurred the words “left” and “with”, the same way Ray did when he was so smashed he couldn’t stand. Junior year was a sight to behold.

He remembered how he handled drunken Ray, noting how warm your shoulders were under his fingers. “You’ve been drinking?” He asked despite himself. Being a gentleman was above personal vendetta. It was odd, seeing you dressed like this, out of the professional attire you took pride in every day. Your ability to pick clothes with an anal retentiveness rivals even him- the only college student in a pressed dress shirt, a sweater vest, and slacks.

“Like, one or five. Itsfine, I’mfine,” you waved your hands around dismissively, before placing them over Egon’s. “I didn’t know you could party, Egie.” He ignored the heat that stung the muscles in his cheeks.

“I don’t.” He went along with it as you started swaying the two of you back and forth lightly. “Did you come with any other friends?”

You went silent, thinking again. It was evidently hard to think and sway, and you eventually fell back into him, unable to keep your balance. “DeanandLisa went to get…food. And they told me to stay here. So I took’a nap.” You nodded to yourself.

“When?”

You couldn’t answer. He peeked sideways at the clock- 3:19. Wherever your friends went, they weren’t going to be back for a long time.

Your arms were still around him, head back on his chest as his hands hovered over you, awkwardly. It was barely audible, but you were mumbling along to the song playing throughout the rest of the house. He should’ve felt a smug pride, watching you who were once so confident drool on yourself, stumble over your words, and paw at him, but he couldn’t. Egon felt a lash of guilt at the idea of leaving you behind, telling Ray that Peter was long gone, and going to bed. You were obviously inebriated- with no friends and too juiced to know not to sleep on the floor, he couldn’t just let you stay in this dump.

That’s how he ended up herding you out the door, but not before you stumbled about the apartment, saying good night to everyone. He was on your heels as you banged on a socked-bedroom door, bidding whoever was on the other side farewell, but he wasn’t quick enough before you were shouting your goodbyes down the stairwell of the basement. For being wasted, you were surprisingly fast. He finally got you outside, the skin under his fingers actually cooling as you left the cramped party.

“I didn’t take you to be a party-person,” he confessed, hand on the small of your back to stop you from running across the street to greet the cat staring you down.

“I’m- wait,” you did in fact run, having to kick off your shoes for efficiency before bending down rather ungracefully to pet the feline like a child would, fingers splayed and pushing its ears back unintentionally. He watched on as you skipped back to the sidewalk, grabbing a street sign for stability when you reached him.

“I’m not,” you resumed as he steered you on. “But- it was Christine! She showed me her’fake eyelash…es and convinced me!” You looked to him to share your disbelief as you told the story, shoes waving around as you moved your hands. “I’couldn’t say no!”

Egon found himself smiling. “I have a roommate very similar.” You were surprisingly easier to talk to when drunk. He wasn’t burning up, or scrambling for his words like he normally did when you teased him, making the scientist detest you more and more for your ability to confuse him. His thoughts ceased, as you got closer to campus, but walking with increasing difficulty.

It was when he had to catch you before tripping over yourself that he swallowed his inhibitions, wrapping a hand under you. He wasn’t the strongest out there, maybe even a little weak, but he could support your weight until you reached home. As you let out a small noise of surprise though, he felt a primitive sense of manliness, your figure pressed to his in a bridal carry.

“Soooo strong.” You praised him, voice trailing off as you let your head hit his shoulder. He had to remind himself that you were drunk, none of this really meant anything. You’d wake up, and decide to torment him after taking an aspirin. His grip weakened as his smile did.

“Don’t drop’me,” your hands clawed at the fabric of his shirt, and he adjusted his hold.

“I won’t,” he watched you close your eyes, face content. “I won’t.”

You were halfway back to the dormitory. He could feel you stirring, looking down and finding your eyes fixed on the night sky.

“What’s up there?”

“Ursa Major.” You pointed lazily.

“That’s a plane.”

You stiffened in his arms. “No, it’s’not. I know this. It’s the bear.” You managed to cross your arms over yourself while in his hold. He felt bad, provoking you while inebriated.

“Then it’s the bear.”

“Put me down,” you hit him on the chest a few times, willing him to reluctantly place you on your own two feet. You shook off his attempts at still holding you, intent on trying to make it home on your own. You stormed off along the path, nearly veering off into the grass.

“Where are you going?” He couldn’t hide the concern behind his voice, trying to keep up with you as you took on a sudden irritation towards him.

“Home.” You kept your pace, before slowing, battling something in behind your eyes in your drunken state. “You think I’m dumb.” Egon stopped in his tracks in a moment, before walking behind you again.

“That’s not true,” he said simply, throwing away his feud with you when sober. He thought of you as one of the smartest people he knew. And you managed to make him look like a mere child while baring your smile at him.

“Maybe I’like being drunk,” you retorted to no one in front of you. As you slowed, so did Egon, watching on as you looked on down the dim, street lamp lit path. When he followed your gaze, he saw nothing but the darkness of night ahead of him. Suddenly, you fell forward, uncaring and weightless. He wasn’t quick enough to catch you, heart dropping to his toes before you simply rolled over onto your back. Your knees were scraped, rapidly drying blood mixing with the gravel and dust of the ground over your lacerated skin. Before he could worry too much about it, you merely laughed, full of glee as your eyes were transfixed on the stars, arms out like you were a star yourself.

You passed out pretty quick after that, a little heavier in his arms. To say Egon was uneasy was an understatement, but at least you were out for a bit. He struggled to get the door to the building open, and even more so getting up to your dormitory floor, only narrowly avoiding hitting your head against a door frame every so often. Taking a quick look at the plates on each door, he was relieved at finding your surname printed on one. After a few discreet knocks, however, no one opened up, either passed out themselves or simply not home. Searching for solutions, he sighed, again, gently laying you against the baseboards. It wasn’t his most elegant idea, but it’d have to do as he reached in his pocket for a pad and paper. He simply scribbled the words “Passed out, sleeping in 244. Please pick up when you get home.” Pressing it in the space between the room number and the wood, he picked you up for the third time and made the trek back to his own place.

You looked peaceful, as Egon decided on putting you in Ray’s bed, alcohol and cotton pads ready. Ray wasn’t home himself- and it’d be unbecoming of him to put you in his own. He hummed to himself, your current state reminding him of the deuteragonist in the play you gave him. They were affluent and sybaritic, imprisoned while drunk and jovial, to the aggravation of the protagonist, tied to tradition and analytical. He hoped that whoever you were in chains with took the liberty of cleaning your open wounds like he did.

Apparently, the sting of disinfectant is enough to rouse the unconscious awake, as the liquid being pressed to your skin made you jolt back to the present, sucking in air between your teeth and nearly kneeing him in the nose. You rushed to sit up as properly as you could, bringing your legs to your chest.

“What’re you doing?” The pain must’ve been worse in this state. He suddenly felt very, very bad about not waiting until you were awake to take care of it, but he remembered that you couldn’t make proper decisions for yourself like this. He wet another pad, though warily. Who was Egon to say that he could make proper decisions for you, sober or otherwise?

He approached you gently, showing you his materials. “Sanitizing. It could get infected.” Maybe that was a bit overzealous, but germs love untreated, open flesh.

You calmed, letting your legs dangle over the bedside again, the exaggerated idea of losing a leg scarier than the cleaning agent in his hand. “Oh.” He figured you were sobering up, even by a bit, from the way your words slurred less and you clung Ray’s blanket to yourself, night’s activities catching up with your tired body. You looked around as he worked quickly, taking in the room.

“You’re messy.” Egon raised his eyebrows once at that, prepping another pad.

“We’re scientists. And Peter.” He could hear you laugh weakly above him. It felt nice, to make you feel nice. Egon felt oddly at ease, on his knees, cleaning you up- as dubious as it sounded. He moved on to your other leg, remembering your situation. “Would you like to stay here? Your friends aren’t home.”

Silence as he wiped away the grime. Your voice sounded again. “A sleepover.”

He resisted a yawn, letting it escape through his nose before catching sight of the clock. “Sure.”

You didn’t say anything else. Better for him- he was sure you didn’t have a key and he was a terrible locksmith. You were leaning back on your hands.

“My doctor.”

He bit back the smile and blush that spread over his face with a clench of his jaw. You were still drunk, no matter how coherent. And wrong. “Not yet a doctor.” He was done bandaging both your injuries some time ago.

“Doctor Egon,” you drew out the word, giggling to yourself. He’d let it slide, this time. Misused titles were disdainful in academia. But he supposed being a stickler didn’t matter so much, now.

Eventually, he rose to his feet, eyes honing in to a surface level scratch on your cheek from the fall. He held your jaw lighty, thumb careful to not graze too much over it. It wasn’t severe, but he assumed you’d prefer to not have a deep scar there for the entirety of the summer to come. He thought about summer. He’d be here, on an internship, while you’d be away, probably away with your friends again. You’d get drunk, seemingly trusting the people around you far too much until you’re hurt- worse than you are now. Whatever meathead you’d spent the night with wouldn’t know first aid if it was thrown at him. Egon soaked in his jealousy, eyebrows falling over his eyes, before coming back to his senses, soaking one more piece of cotton and gently tapping it to your face, a small adhesive placed to protect it.

“Kiss to make it better?” He let go of your face, moving to the kitchen sink to wash his hands as you giggled to yourself again. It was awfully late, now.

“You should get some sleep,” he dried his hands off. He would miss you, but time was the only fool-proof remedy- and daylight was quickly approaching.

“No fun,” you complained, but you still settled into Ray’s bed, pulling the comforter around yourself. He contemplated what to do, get into his own bed or just wait for you to sleep instead. You rolled over to face him.

“Are you sure you don’t want my help with the play? I’m not supposed to, though. But I can do the voices.” Right. The play. He eyed the book, forgotten about in the corner of his desk.

“I’d rather you rest.”

“You should sleep, too.” He could tell you were fighting your own exhaustion. He pulled out his chair, moving Ray’s coil to the side to make work of his assignment again.

“I’d rather you did, first.” He opened to the page he left off on.

“Egon.” You sounded scarily sober. He turned in his seat to face you.

You freed yourself from the blanket a bit. “You’re tired. You always look tired.” Another state of inebriation was taking hold of you. Maudlin. You were drunk. It didn’t mean anything.

He chewed at the inner part of his bottom lip before speaking again. “You’re very stressed. And you’re going to wake up feeling like hell.” He searched for the right words to convince you to let yourself go. “I’ll sleep too, and we can talk to each other in our dreams.” A little ridiculous, but it’s not the craziest thing he’s said to a tippler.

The hammered part of you was contemplating it, before you smiled and nodded. Before he went back to his work, you called for him one more time.

“Egon?”

“Yes?”

“I need a lullaby.” You had the same devilish, teasing look in your eye as you did when you were sober. He looked around in confusion as you looked towards him expectantly, before he surrendered, winding up a small snow globe that Peter kept out, even in Spring. As it played, you shook your head.

“No, sing the one by Manfred Mann.” He grabbed the edge of the blanket, pulling it over your head as you laughed uncontrollably to yourself.

“Goodnight.”

Egon had fallen asleep over his book some time later. As he came to, he looked back, hopeful to still see you, sleeping soundly. His hope faltered as he took in the empty space, neither his roommates returned or your spot on Ray’s bed filled in by your shape. There was a strange emptiness in his chest, knowing you were gone in a matter of hours. The only proof of your presence was the used bottle of isopropyl in the corner of his desk.

His breath slowed, light of the early morning burning into his eyes as he slowly rose out of his chair. Walking off, not sure if he was going to shower, or eat, or what, he noticed a small paper on the pillow. He picked it up, wondering if it would disappear in his hands.

“Thank you, Doctor.” He folded it back. You were drunk. It didn’t mean anything. But he still smiled.

#ghostbusters #ghostbusters 1989 #ghostbusters 1984 #egon spengler #egon spengler/reader #egon spengler x reader #egon x reader #egon/reader #peter venkman #ray stantz #oneshot #fanfic #ao3 author #ao3 writer #ao3 link #open requests #ask box

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britcision · 1 year

Text

Gonna try and sneakily post after dnd let’s see how fast I can yeet this up 👀 new chapter!!

(I was kinda considering pushing out the porn parody to push me over one million words on AO3, but I have to be in the mood to write good smut, whereas I’m damn near always in the mood for crack, so here we are

The porn parody has been started though, and the first chapter is edging its way to completion. I will be starting an entirely new taglist for the porn parody though, so do say in the comments here if you would like to be tagged in the first chapter of that!)

I got to use a little of my actual real life work knowledge for once in my life, instead of my unending stash of random knowledge 👀 it’s a bold new world and I bet you ANYTHING Bruce never documents his code

Eleven million backup plans for if marshmallows take over the world, but someone else sits to debug the batcomputer? Zip. Nothing. Fuck them if they can’t read Bruce they aren’t authorised to touch it

As may be rather obvious… We’re right up in the bats again this chapter, and Bruce is going to make some Inadvisable Decisions 😈

I’m sure this will have absolutely no consequences whatsoever! This chapter also came in a little short, since there’s not quiiiiite enough space left to squeeze in our next scene, Danny Attempts To Make Jason Kill Him In A Motorcycle Accident

This means we should not brick ANYONES’ tumblr! (Like that’ll happen, my poor mobile using fellows)

Note: there is a reason why I’m choosing when to use our various vigi’s human names while they’re masked, I didn’t miss one on the “edit” that is formatting this mess for Tumblr 😁

First Chapter and AO3 link:

Previous Chapter:

——————

One Fine Day In The Middle Of The Night

About twenty minutes after dropping Danny off at his dorm, Jason was suited up and ready to go.

Well, he’d stayed outside until he’d seen Danny shut the door behind him first. Jason had some fucking manners, though if pressed he couldn’t name who’d taught him them.

It was a habit older than the streets, watching to be sure his friends got to safety.

Danny’s dorm was about fifteen minutes from one of Jason’s better safe houses, as it happened. Jason had never been to a dorm, but from Danny’s stories?

A step below Teen Titans’ bunks, and those had sucked. Less privacy, smaller rooms, and more people? Who weren’t even part of the same team?

Maybe next semester Jason could offer to let Danny move in. He didn’t need need the safe house.

Red Hood could always buy the building. There were other apartments and while they weren’t luxurious, they beat half his other spots. The neighbourhood wasn’t bad either.

It’d be nice to pay Danny back a bit. Not have him closer. Just. Repay some of the debt by giving him a place to stay, rent free.

And maybe, just a little bit, the part of Jason that enjoyed the romanticism of his period novels kinda liked the idea. An estate for the king on your lands was a big deal back then.

A slightly more modern part of him thought being a landlord for his ruler would also be pretty funny. He figured Danny would enjoy that side too.

And it wasn’t like the guy could complain, since he’d literally given Jason back himself. Yeah, Jason was gonna pull that one out if Danny tried any familiar “oh I can’t accept this” on him.

Fixing his core was pretty damn god level on the favours spectrum. Jason could do whatever the hell he liked and Danny would just have to deal with it.

It cheered him up a little more, kept him in a good mood on the ride back to his safe house. It was more time where he couldn’t help Cass, but seriously?

Danny could change in a matter of seconds and be at her side not much slower. Walls, cars, goons, Jason had this feeling that none of it would slow Danny down.

And yeah, knowing that helped, but there was still a piece of him that only unknotted as he slid his helmet on and headed to the window.

“Hey, Black Bat. Busy?” He asked as the comms switched from earpiece to helmet display.

Of course he wore both. People kept trying to steal his damn helmet. That was also what the internal explosives were for.

The others all piped up when they heard him, Harper and Steph calling cheerful greetings around an ongoing conversation.

“Shit, Hood’s in, this mean I can go back to bed?” Bluebird teased. Spoiler cut her off immediately.

“Hell no, it can’t be a school night, Robin’s here! Great timing though Hood, we’re planning Red Robin’s eulogy and you have some experience there,” Spoiler chirped brightly, and Jason hesitated.

Sucked in a breath. He wasn’t gonna judge anyone else’s coping mechanisms until they got past “heads in a bag” levels.

Best to ignore it, since she wasn’t actually trying to set him off.

What the hell had Tim done since they’d left the manor?

Shaking his head, Jason settled into Red Hood and hopped onto the fire escape, scaling easily to the roof.

“Black Bat?” He repeated instead of answering, and half smiled when Spoiler groaned dramatically.

Black Bat answered in the considerate group pause.

“Not busy. Why?” She sounded amused, not even particularly tired, and Jason relaxed enough to slip all the way in.

“Thinking of going a little out of my way tonight. Wondered if you’d mind a tagalong?” Red Hood asked, hoping he sounded casual.

It wasn’t like he’d been planning to patrol the Alley anyway; his guys had already been told to handle it. He’d have to run around tomorrow night to keep the creepers scared, but he could have a couple off.

The tiny pause before her answer didn’t quite feel like judgement, but Jason muted before blowing out the sigh as she did. It wasn’t like the others needed to know he’d been stressing.

“Sure. Meet at library?” She’d had his tracker up. Hood nodded, turning and running for the edge of the roof.

“Sounds good.” And they’d probably wound Spoiler up enough, she’d start plotting vengeance for being ignored soon. “So what the hell did Little Red do?”

“Brought Too Fine to the Bat Cave,” Spoiler told him with relish, not noticeably put out by the delay.

Not necessarily a good sign, since she was also this enthusiastic while actively plotting against him.

Wait.

Too Fine was Tucker’s hacker name.

“But he doesn’t know about us,” Red Hood said with a frown, catching an outcropping and swinging on.

“Oh, now you tell me,” Tim groused while the others snickered, “what a shame you didn’t think to when it’d have actually been helpful!”

News to Hood that he was on, probably still in the cave.

“He knows now,” Nightwing chimed in brightly, probably also travelling from the slight strain in his voice.

Hood paused for a moment, letting that sink in before attempting the next jump.

“Is he on comm?” He asked warily, because if Tim brought Tucker to the bat cave, it was entirely possible that they were all outed.

And that Tucker might tell Danny he was Red Hood.

Shit, he still had to text Harley. Resolving to do it once he hit the library, he set back to running, throwing himself across another street.

Black Bat would probably take a little longer to get there.

“He’ll be back, he’s in the bathroom,” Tim explained with a heavy sigh, shaking his head. “It’s not all bad, he’s given me the full story on what happened in Amity Park. Witness account and all.”

“From a witness you let down to the bat cave~” Spoiler sang sweetly across the air.

Red Hood could hear Oracle rolling her eyes as she cut in.

“Tone it down, Batgirl. Bluebird, if you’re still thinking of heading in, could you swing past one last site on your way?” She said firmly, then lightening her tone for their current guest.

“Batgirl who? I’m Spoiler,” Spoiler grumbled, but didn’t push beyond that. None of them did when Oracle invoked the name she’d had before any of them masked up.

Bluebird snickered at her before answering the question, a hint of exertion suggesting she was on the move too.

“I’m not actually in a rush to go home, O, I got all dressed up so I might as well enjoy one last hurrah.”

Right, because she’d be going back to school probably when Danny did.

Harper had always been a damn good hero in Jason’s books, but she valued her retirement and none of them really wanted to ruin it. Unless, apparently, seven bats just had to stalk Jason’s new friends.

Hood would have apologized, but frankly if she’d said no, some of the others couldn’t have come to the gala to be a pain in his ass.

And then he couldn’t have had so much fun fucking with them.

Fine. One cool fruit basket for the Row household, and some rainbow cupcakes for Cullen. He needed practice on frosting roses anyway.

Although that also reminded him.

“Hey Bluebird, have the others filled you in on Phantom?” He asked, cutting off some more background chatter from Spoiler and Tim.

Nightwing and the girls had had hours by now.

“What, your new boyfriend?” Bluebird asked sweetly, and Hood rolled his eyes.

Probably hit the important shit then.

“Sent you a picture?” He asked instead, decidedly not entertaining that question.

Nightwing and Spoiler snickered. Hood flipped off their general directions, settling himself comfortably on the roof of the library to wait for Black Bat.

There was a short pause, the others now wondering what he was getting at. Good.

“In and out of suit,” Bluebird agreed, curiosity tinging with mild suspicion. Being out of retirement clearly wasn’t good for her.

Hood nodded, pulling out his phone and shooting Harley a quick text. It might be moot now, asking her not to mention Red Hood shit in front of Danny, but he might as well.

He still had to ask if Waylon knew. Might as well ask. And see if Tucker knew when he got back.

“I know you’re outta the game, but keep the light show to a minimum if you see him around, okay?” He asked, scanning quickly over the list Danny’d cleared for public discussion.

He didn’t know if Tucker would have mentioned it, but he might as well. Cause of death was good, but Jason personally would veto “and the effects it may have now”.

Because fuck Bruce and his need for everyone to show him their weaknesses.

Bluebird definitely sounded curious now, and possibly like she was punching someone.

“Oh? He not big on the electricity?” She wondered aloud, and Hood grimaced.

Because if they were both at Gotham U in engineering… there was actually a chance Harper and Danny would run into each other.

Danny was older, but Harper skipped a couple years and he had no idea what year Danny was in. Fuck, they might be in the same classes. He couldn’t believe he’d never thought of that.

“Not exactly. You mighta seen him around actually, he’s an engineer too. But he’s not a fan of the electricity flying around,” he explained, Nightwing making background noises that told Hood he hadn’t put the pieces together either.

Good. At least he wasn’t alone.

Bluebird made an interested hum, and probably a finishing blow considering the satisfaction when she spoke next.

“I thought he looked familiar. But then, he’s total Wayne-bait. Yeah, I can keep the good stuff under wraps if I see him around. Gonna guess he’s had some bad shocks in the line of work?”

Hood hesitated and in exactly the same instant Black Bat landed on the roof. Sam had given them all the warning about talking about a ghost’s death, so he could leave it at that.

But…

The way Danny had looked when he explained about Vlad. Yeah, he’d rather they took this seriously. He didn’t want any of his family to hurt Danny, even by accident.

“It’s how he died. He won’t spontaneously combust or anything, but it’s a bad memory.”

Silence reigned while the others absorbed that particular detail, Black Bat crossing to crouch on the roof beside him. Hood leaned over enough to bump their shoulders together.

He could almost feel concern radiating off her, which was an extra weird experience after literally feeling all of Danny’s emotions half the day.

Guess that was where Cass’s liminality was going. It made sense, kind of; despite her occasional trouble speaking, she was pretty much the clearest communicator in the family.

Having another back up way to make herself heard would only fit.

On a whim, he tried projecting comfort back to her. Black Bat didn’t seem to notice, though whether that meant more on her part or his was the question.

She leaned in and bumped him back, her expression unreadable between the full face mask and the shadows.

“Heard and understood, Hood,” Bluebird agreed after a minute, her tone unusually solemn. Hopefully Dickie would take it to heart too.

The odds of Danny running into Nightwing weren’t great if he stuck to Blüdhaven, but Dick was a nosy bastard and there was always one “emergency” or another.

Better than the odds of running into Bluebird, although Harper would almost definitely look him up at school.

Maybe Jason should warn him.

“Maybe you could build him a faraday suit,” Spoiler mused, and Red Hood snickered.

“Handy, but then we couldn’t contact him,” he reminded her and she groaned loudly.

“Hey, if we’re both techies he’ll probably have his own idea. I’ll look him up out of costume, it’s my turn to say hi,” Bluebird decided, and Hood shot Danny a quick text.

Just a heads up.

A picture of Harper, captioned “beware of sibling. May be looking you up in class”. Black Bat giggled beside him, head cocked to watch the screen.

Harper wasn’t technically one of the Waynes, but if Waylon counted she definitely had to, and it wasn’t like Bruce picked his family. Asshole.

A few minutes later he got a message back from Danny.

‘DannyP: !!!!! I know her! 😳😳🤯 She does the cool nanobots! Half our year is betting if she’s a rogue or a vigi 👀 inside info??’

Which was fair, since just knowing Jason wouldn’t be much of a hint either way.

“He knows you,” Black Bat reported to the others, Bluebird immediately bitching that she’d been ratted out.

Red Hood mostly ignored her, texting Danny back.

‘JTodd: Neither anymore. She was a vigi, but she’s retired and getting her degree. No idea if she’ll come back after.’

“Odds you’ll change sides and go rogue, Bluebird?” He asked into a pause, and very much enjoyed the momentary stumped silence. “Apparently there’s a hefty bet.”

Momentary, because everyone had an opinion on that and had to share it. Everyone except Bluebird herself, who seemed to be thinking it over.

“What’re the odds for rogue?” She asked thoughtfully, immediately defending herself as the group booed. “What! I have student loans!”

“You are my villain arc, Red Hood,” Spoiler declared as solemnly as she could through laughter.

“I’m my own villain arc thank you so much, go find your own,” he refuted with a half grin.

“Ask Phantom,” Black Bat advised Bluebird in the meantime, which was probably fair. They weren’t good at staying on topic.

She then gave Hood another gentle nudge, probably for the same reason. Flicked off her comm for a moment.

“Wanted to talk?” She asked, and yeah, they probably should get back to it.

He gave a shrug, hauling himself up and holding a hand back down to her. Definitely not feeling guilty.

They’d tell her before anything became relevant. It just.

Well.

They were a family of fucking detectives, who could never leave well enough alone, and Jason really didn’t want them questioning his humanity.

Just once, he’d like to know something about himself before anyone else did. To have time to understand and come to terms with what he was before Twenty Questions.

Cass was very good at not asking questions though. And Black Bat turned off her comm first. Tim was distracted, probably with Tucker coming back because he’d been quiet.

No better opportunity was likely to come up.

And really, she deserved the same courtesy. Knowing about herself before the others did.

Maybe she’d have some ideas on how to tell them.

Making up his mind, Hood tapped his comms and hauled Black Bat up with his other hand.

“Hey O, gonna be offline for a minute. Text if you need me or BB, we gotta be radio silent.” There were enough possible reasons for that, he didn’t bother giving one.

Just so long as they knew.

Usually he’d just turn the comm off and swear at her if she turned him back on if he wanted peace and quiet, but… well, it was nice to hear the background chatter.

Nicer when the big Bat himself wasn’t in the field to tell them to focus.

“I always need you, baby!” Nightwing called just before he clicked off, and Red Hood rolled his eyes under the helmet.

Dramatic bitch.

He looked back to Black Bat, wondering where would be the best place for this talk. She was watching him patiently, not moving.

It had been her patrol.

“Is there anywhere on your route we can talk privately?” He asked softly, a little surprised at himself. He’d been the one who wanted to wait.

But that just made it his call who he decided to tell what, and when. And Cass… he trusted Cass.

Besides, it wasn’t like he was liminal. It’d give them something to think until he was ready.

Black Bat regarded him for a moment longer, then nodded and made her way to the edge of the roof.

“Follow.”

The night was wearing on, but Bruce was darkly satisfied that they were finally making progress.

Constantine’s pacing (replacing his smoking; Bruce may not have bothered arguing in the cave, but even Constantine knew better than to light a cigarette in space) had finally slowed.

Something terrible had happened in Amity Park, but even the magician was grudgingly admitting it was probably over. Left permanent scars, but getting no worse.

Unless it was on a cosmic level and would be a slow seeping problem for millennia, but Alfred had Opinions about Bruce concerning himself with issues on that time scale.

There was only so much they could do in the moment.

Another survey of the city was required, and in person since even the League’s best couldn’t take clear pictures of Amity Park.

A fact which didn’t seem to have stopped the Amity Parkers from photographing and sharing pictures of each other, according to his children. Constantine hadn’t actually argued when Bruce compared it to background radiation, so it must be close enough.

He also hadn’t done more than grimace when Bruce asked if he wanted to undertake the survey personally. That was as good as an enthusiastic agreement.

First, though? First they needed to call a meeting of the Justice League, primarily the heroes located in North America.

They had been horribly uninformed of what was going on right under their noses, and if Constantine was right… Amity Park’s problems had begun to spread.

To Gotham.

To his children.

Constantine’s grumbling that it was the miasma of death that hung over the city drawing them in had not inspired confidence, and Bruce resolved to have Zatanna over at her soonest convenience to explain.

Helping Constantine put together a report on Amity Park itself had more than convinced Bruce not to ask Constantine, even if he could have done it today. The man was…

Well. Bruce wasn’t looking forward to having to run him through the JL’s classification system again. Maybe one of his children would want to go and handle the technical side.

All he had to do was finish preparing the presentation, call the League, and he could rest. It would likely take a day or two to put a full meeting together, but he could at least fill Clark and Diana in tonight.

He could sleep in between. Just for a little while.

Right after he showed Constantine how to configure the alerts from Amity Park to direct to the Justice League Dark, not the spam folder. They hadn’t sent one in years, but he was determined not to miss any changes.

That should have been the easiest part of this whole mess. It was just a simple form, with a basic test button to ensure it worked.

Nothing too complicated even for a man who’d decided “no reply needed” meant the same thing as “too dangerous for anyone but JL Dark”.

Fine. It was fine.

Bruce loved making training videos to highlight the most basic functions of a system and ensure that people actually understood what the various controls meant. Wonderful.

It meant that they could work in parallel for a while, Bruce on the presentation for the League, Constantine to fix his mistake. In a blissful silence, even.

It couldn’t last.

“It’s not working, Bats,” the magician declared, pushing back and away from his computer. Probably to pace again.

Bruce closed his eyes, breathed in through his nose and out through his mouth, and made his way across to frown at the monitor.

“Did you save your changes?” He growled, doing his best not to let the irritation show. It was getting harder every time.

Constantine rolled his eyes, definitely not helping, and pointed at the screen.

“See for yerself. Look, JLD Top Priority, like ya said. And then ya hit the top button to save, and the red button to test it, and nothing happens.”

He waited impatiently while Bruce clicked through the buttons, seeing it for himself.

Constantine wasn’t wrong. That was unexpected.

Brows furrowing under his cowl, Bruce checked the deleted requests. Three test messages from “Amity Park”.

“Hn.”

“Someone’s fucked ya system,” Constantine commented dryly, sounding unduly pleased that it wasn’t his fault.

Something other than his haphazard filing had apparently been causing some of their problems. Bruce… just didn’t have the time tonight.

He nodded over to his screen instead, pulling up his wrist computer to send a private message to Tim in the cave. How long could a tour take?

Tim could find what was going wrong long before he’d have the time.

“I’ve compiled most of the presentation on creatures of the Realms. Is there anything important I should add?” He asked gruffly and Constantine sighed dramatically and flounced over.

Bruce firmly ignored Steph’s voice in his ear.

Not because he didn’t agree, whatever a “woobie” was.

He just needed Constantine’s once over to confirm he had all the pertinent information, and then he could call Clark and Diana.

Head home.

Get to bed.

“Looks fine. I should check yer damn revenant some time soon too though.”

Bruce froze, finger just above the send button on that tech request to Tim.

His fucking what.

Black Bat led them easily across the city, along what was probably her normal patrol route. Taking her cue from Red Hood, she didn’t rush, but soon indicated that they turn off into a small alley between two warehouses.

Hell, not even a proper alley. A gap where the buildings hadn’t quite smushed together.

Red Hood recognized the area from Nightwing’s bitching; there’d been a bust here last week, and something had cloaked the whole block from surveillance.

These days, he was almost tempted to check what Danny knew about it. Ghosts fucked with technology in ways none of the bats would find.

Black Bat stopped them half way down the gap, feet braced against one wall and her back to the other, leaving her “sitting” about twenty feet off the ground.

Hood matched her a little further down, grumbling a little at the crush. Almost a foot taller, it wasn’t exactly a comfortable position for him, but he’d held worse.

They were stable, and damn near impossible to observe. This was as good as they’d get.

“So,” he began, and immediately realized he had no fucking clue what to say.

Black Bat’s flat, expressionless mask was not helpful.

Hood wished he could pull his helmet off, just to run his hands through his hair. But they were on patrol.

Black Bat just waited, silent and patient while he wrestled with himself. Finally he decided to just spit it out.

“Danny died, and came back,” he said in a rush, glancing over to her.

Black Bat nodded.

“Like you.”

“Like us,” Hood corrected, groaned, and switched off the voice modulator. Actually, fuck it, he had his domino on.

He pulled the helmet off, balancing it in his lap. He could shove it back on if it came time to go.

Black Bat was beside him now, almost close enough to touch. Close enough to lean in and bump their shoulders together.

“One main difference,” she noted thoughtfully, then tapped her chest, “no skin change.”

Which, yeah, Jason had been hoping to emphasize before any of the family got too far down the right track.

“Right,” he agreed, leaning back to stare blankly into the smog of Gotham above them.

Fuck. How do you even say it? How do you tell someone they’re not fully human anymore?

Someone like Cass, who’d been raised to believe she’d never been human, by force. Just a weapon.

Her hand was in his now, and he couldn’t be sure if he’d reached out or she had. He stared down at their laced fingers instead.

“You know how people get when they spend too long around the pit water,” he began slowly, trying a different path.

Cass had been raised around the League of Assassins. She knew.

And took the change of topic fully in stride, nodding and giving his hand a gentle squeeze.

“Erratic,” she mused softly, her face tilted to the wall across, “unpredictable, especially if they went in.”

No one was going to say Ra’s Al Ghul was an unstable mess of a man, but no one had to. Still, how controlled he was was impressive, especially after you saw what mere exposure to the fumes did to other people.

Red Hood nodded, sighing softly.

“Danny’s parents kept it in the fridge. He was… exposed long before he died,” he explained quietly.

If he was talking about himself, he’d say “contaminated”. Hell, it was the word Danny used when explaining it to the bats.

Jason just couldn’t use it about Danny. It just wasn’t right.

Black Bat stilled, almost enough to be mistaken for a statue instead of a living being. Was that her liminality too? Or just her training?

Red Hood couldn’t stand it either way, giving her hand a gentle tug.

“He told me… being around it too long can change a person, even if they never get dunked,” he said slowly, trailing off again.

“We got dunked,” Black Bat said quietly, her hand curling more tightly around his. There was no hint of emotion in her voice, and Jason hated it.

Pulled her closer, doing all he could to project comfort-sorry-concerned-love you. Wishing he’d asked Danny to teach him to do that first.

Neither of them had really considered he’d need it, since Danny was so good at reading him. But he needed her to know she wasn’t alone.

Her shoulders hunched suddenly, body tensed to spring until her head snapped round to focus on him.

He could… he could feel surprise from her. Maybe it was working.

He gave a graceless half shrug, grinding his shoulders against filthy bricks.

Tried to project yeah it’s weird for me too, but wasn’t sure how well it came across. Anything beyond pure feelings was a little tricky for him to push, though he could usually work out what Danny was saying.

“We got dunked,” he agreed quietly, resolving instead to wrap her in love-protect-safe-safe-safe, “and sometimes… that changes you even without a flashy transformation.”

It was an awful explanation and he knew it, could practically feel her eyes darting all over his face, his posture, reading things he probably wasn’t aware he was showing.

Then she relaxed all at once, settling in and leaning part of her weight on him as well as the wall. He braced automatically to take it. He wouldn’t let her fall.

“He called it being “liminal”,” he explained softly, working an arm around her shoulders above the wall to coax more of her weight onto him. “I don’t know what it means for you yet, BB. But nothing bad. He was sure it wouldn’t be bad.”

Black Bat made a soft humming sound, obediently shuffling so he could wrap his arm around her. Looking down at their still twined hands.

“Can feel you,” she said softly, hand rising to tap gently against the red bat on his chest. “Big brother.”

It startled a bark of laughter out of him, because… well, yeah. A good way to sum up everything he’d wanted to tell her without words.

Felt a quick rush of satisfaction from Black Bat, and tried to answer it with relief-agree-protect.

“Yeah, that’s the fuckin’ weirdest part,” he agreed dryly, almost felt the rush of her giggle more than he heard it. “Apparently some liminals get this… aura around them. Sharing what they feel. I didn’t know if you would…”

What? If she’d notice? If she’d be able to feel the same things?

Black Bat nodded, head tipping up to meet his gaze once again.

“Robin? Batman?” She asked, and Jason hesitated.

He couldn’t talk to either of them about it. Not yet. Bruce would fucking push, he always did, and wouldn’t stop until he tore the secrets out of him. Damian would just run to Bruce.

But it was a valid question. And they did sort of deserve to know just as much.

For now he took refuge in what he knew, shrugging it off.

“Danny thinks they’re liminal, but… not as far along as we are.”

Not as close to death. Not as close to not being human, although technically they were both legally non-sentient, so that was fun.

“D’you really think either of them have the emotional bandwidth to share?” He tried to joke, covering the moment.

Black Bat just stared at him until he fell silent. Then nodded.

“Should tell them. No rush,” she added almost before Jason could tense, leaning back in and resting her head on his shoulder, “have been for a while, yes?”

Jason paused a moment longer, shook his head, and snickered.

“Cannot believe I ever doubted you’d be able to do the whole “emotional telepathy” thing,” he grumbled good naturedly, and Black Bat glowed with gentle amused.

“Better than you,” she told him archly, sounding for a moment like Steph when she was teasing Tim. Jason gave her a squeeze.

“Don’t I know it. But yeah, it’s not a new thing, and won’t mean anything to anyone unless one of us dies again.” Which he wasn’t going to think about.

Shit, someone said Robin was out tonight.

Nope. Not thinking about it. Robin had been patrolling for years, and as much as he whined about his solo patrol route, he never deviated.

Not after Oracle had highlighted his route on his wrist computer for him and proved she could see every footstep. She wouldn’t necessarily tell Bruce, but she’d always know.

Black Bat nodded, resting against him for a moment longer before sitting up again.

“You want to wait.” It wasn’t a question, but he felt compelled to answer.

Picked up his helmet, turning it over slowly in his hands. But of course she’d understand. She always did.

“I want to know what this means to me before I have B poking and prying into every part of my life,” he said quietly, staring into the eye slits of the helmet.

Black Bat ruffled his hair.

“Can wait,” she agreed gently, switching her position to have a hand and foot on either wall. Ready to move on. “No rush.”

Red Hood pulled his helmet back on and matched her, the pair climbing quickly out of the crack between the warehouses. It almost wasn’t worth saying, but…

“You can tell the others if they ask. I just…”

“Don’t want questions,” Black Bat agreed lightly, flipping up onto the roof. “Can ask Danny when the time comes.”

“Yeah,” Red Hood agreed, crouching beside her. “Mind if I stick with you on patrol tonight?”

He sort of hoped she’d think it was unrelated, but another moment of stillness passed across her as she regarded him.

“Until we die again,” she repeated his own words, and Hood was pretty happy she couldn’t see his face anymore as he grimaced.

Not that it mattered, another shot of amused shooting between them, followed by a much softer appreciated.

At least she wasn’t judging him for being a mother hen.

“Understand.”

Tim and Tucker had made quick work of the interview, and Tim was pretty much running out of questions when the batcomputer pinged with an incoming message.

Tucker gave it a longing look and Tim chuckled softly, wheeling himself over.

“Hang on. Might be one of the others out on patrol,” he explained, right clicking to pull up the monitor that tracked the bats’ various dominos out and about.

Tucker stared up at it politely, diverting his attention from what Tim was doing on the other screen, no matter how curious he was. Showing trust and all that.

It was actually really cool too; he’d not really seen a map of Gotham, and having one superimposed with little glowing lights of the various heroes on patrol was really cool.

It wasn’t really zoomed in enough to tell if Bluebird was actually in a fight, but the little blue dot seemed to be the only one standing still, so Tucker assumed she was.

How cool would that be? Watching just normal human vigilantes fight and take down bad guys?

Although off the top of his head, he could already think of a couple of things to add to the monitoring program. They might already be there, he hadn’t clicked around, but like.

Vitals were all well and good, down in the corner next to each hero’s name and the colour of their dot, but just the heartbeats? That wouldn’t tell you enough.

Tucker preferred brainwaves, because then you could tell if they’d been hit with something or overshadowed.

Although maybe it was because he’d spent his time keeping track of a guy who pretty regularly did not have a heartbeat. And it also gave him more data points for some of his cooler side projects.

Understanding the different brainwave patterns an individual made in different situations was a key part of neural mapping, and adding it to the bat’s routine would get him a ton of data.

And then they could really play Mariokart.

He’d have to ask Tim if they tracked any of that later. Not all the bats wore helmets or cowls that would support the electrodes, apparently. Although if Danny could get his hands on a domino…

Tucker was snapped back to the here and now as Tim pushed back from the batcomputer, a wry grin on his lips.

“Actually, I think this might be something you could help with, Tucker. If you don’t mind a little work on your night off?” He teased, back to Tucker’s complaints about a night of fun and tech.

Like getting to play on the batcomputer did not absolutely count as fun and tech.

Tucker beamed, excitement welling up in him and cracking his knuckles. It’d be pretty cool to assist a human vigilante too. And on a tech problem!

Gotham was fucking great. If Tim really meant it about getting him an internship, Tucker might have to see about switching schools.

MIT was great, but it wasn’t Wayne Enterprises, personal meetings, or personal tech demonstrations with Tim Drake Wayne!

“Sure! What’s going on?” He asked, shuffling over to look at the other screens now that he had permission. Making sure it was obvious he hadn’t been looking.

Resisting temptation had been hard. He deserved credit.

Tim nodded to the screen, and that? That was a message from Batman. Bruce Wayne. Batman.

Tucker scanned the message, eyes widening even as Tim spoke.

“Wanna help debug the Watchtower?” Tim asked, and Tucker clutched at the back of his chair as his heart leapt, swooning just a little.

The Watchtower. The actual Watchtower. In space. Oh he was shoving that in Danny’s face for not telling him he was friends with the Bats!

There was only one real question left.

“Will Oracle be here?” He asked eagerly, looking around the rest of the screen.

A soft chuckle played from a speaker in the bottom corner, and Tucker jumped half a mile as a masked voice spoke.

“You boys have fun with this one, I’ll keep an eye on the city. If you finish early you could walk me through that server of yours?”

Oracle.

The Oracle.

They were real, they talked to him, they wanted to talk about his locked down servers! Tim lunged to catch him as Tucker collapsed, knees giving out under the swell of emotion.

All of his dreams were coming true, all at once.

He’d never been happier.

Danny was having a pretty quiet night in. That didn’t used to be unusual while he was in Gotham; having time to himself was still pretty much a novelty, and he wasn’t exactly a party boy.

Of course, it was a night in with some of his parents’ inventions and recently one or two of his own, so the actual “quiet” part was negotiable.

Quiet enough not to piss off his dorm mates, but luckily most of them were engineers too. They may not always know what he was doing, but they were usually interested.

Tonight, he was alone, most of the floor still being home for the holiday. That had been one of the things he’d looked forward to most about staying behind, but…

Well, after his noisy and action packed few days… he was lonely.

He wished he’d asked Jason to stay. Just because he’d said he was going to bed didn’t mean he had to do anything of the sort.

It was just that Jason had been… tense. He’d not even gotten off the bike when they arrived, just pulling over and chatting for a minute before heading out.

Like he wasn’t fully comfortable going into Danny’s place, which was kinda fair. Unlike Jason’s apartments, Danny’s dorm was a communal space.

Even if most of his dorm mates weren’t home, there was still a chance one of them might turn up. And then Danny would have someone else bugging him about his “boyfriend”.

Nope.

Besides, he’d see Jason again at 11am (he had this horrible feeling Jason might be a morning person), so it wasn’t even all that long. He should probably just go to bed.

He should check his class schedule, actually. Work out what days he’d have free, work out when he and Jason could skip to the Zone for fight club.

Wait.

Would Jason be free.

What the hell did Jason do for a living? He’d have to ask at some point, Danny mused, logging in and taking a screenshot of his class schedule for the new year.

For now, it was probably best just to send Jason the picture so he’d know when Danny was free, and then Jason could work out a good time for them to go and it wouldn’t be Danny’s problem.

Excellent. Sheer genius.

Humming happily to himself, Danny pulled up Jason’s number and sent the picture of his schedule, with the caption:

‘Let me know when ur free for field trips 👊🏻💥👻’

Eyes closing for a moment, Danny let his awareness drift out across the city. It wasn’t something he’d done a lot; Gotham wasn’t his haunt and he didn’t want to step on any toes.

Usually he’d just expand his conscious aura if he was looking for someone, but knowing how much Jason didn’t like it… well, his passive aura covered most of the state, so reaching through the same city couldn’t be all that hard.

Right?

Frostbite could find anyone, anywhere in the Far Frozen with little more than a thought. And was convinced Danny would be able to do that with the entire Zone, some day.

Danny was a little less convinced. Past the background awareness that he was no longer in Amity Park that had taken months to fade, he’d never really paid attention to his passive aura.

It’d be too tempting to feel out the rogues, or at least react to the sudden surges of aggression and danger. But he hadn’t had anyone to protect before, and he knew Jason would feel better knowing Danny could.

That was kinda why Danny hadn’t mentioned how theoretical this particular ability was, although he had no doubt he’d recognize Cass’s energy if she came close to death.

Which meant he should totally recognize it while she was alive, well, and had more energy, right?

He had no idea where she was, which parts of Gotham fell on her patrol route, but that kinda helped. It meant he couldn’t trick himself by focusing on a particular area.

Surprising precisely no one though, he found Jason first. The other halfa almost glowed when Danny was focusing on his energy, a bubbling little ball of yellow and red.

He… was maybe with Cass? Danny’s brows furrowed, nose scrunching as he tried to focus without changing his aura.

He was definitely with one of the liminals. And that quiet little light, almost blue, felt sort of like Cass. When he forced himself not to be distracted by Jason’s brighter glow.

Eyes snapping open, Danny’s concentration broke and he frowned up at the ceiling.

Well, that explained why Jason was in a hurry to get going. He was no expert in Gotham herself yet and had no idea where the two of them were, but if he tried again he could probably work it out.

Did Jason still have a suit? Or did he call Cass in, find something he could do as a civilian to have her help?

Shrugging to himself, Danny dismissed the question and hauled himself up. Might as well get to bed; they’d be back together in the morning and he could always ask.

Tim was scrolling through the code for the alert messaging system itself while Tucker went through the sections that pertained to Amity Park specifically on his PDA when the other boy made a sudden, startled squeak.

Tim considered pretending he hadn’t heard, but there was a chance he’d found the answer. So he glanced over.

“Any luck?” He asked, noting Tucker’s sudden strained expression. Maybe the guy needed the bathroom actually. They’d been down here a while.

Tucker laughed sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.

“So… uh… what exactly does the bug we’re looking for do?” He asked in a small voice, looking more embarrassed than Tim had ever seen.

Which… was not a proportionate response for that noise. And a question that they both probably should have thought of sooner.

He’d meant to mention it, since they’d have to explain it to the Amity Parkers at some point.

“So… remember how the Justice League never responded to an alert from Amity Park?” Tim asked not a little sheepishly himself.

Tucker nodded, not actually looking any less embarrassed himself either. That was definitely a great sign.

Tim sucked in a deep breath and forged ahead.

“So, it turns out there’s a bug in the Watchtower’s systems, where anything coming in from Amity Park gets marked as spam and funnelled straight into trash. We fixed the marking as spam thing, which I guess was user error, but it’s still-”

“All going to trash,” Tucker finished with a sigh, grimacing and shaking his head, “aaaaand I think I know why. But the timeline doesn’t make sense?”

That… that wasn’t even on the same continent as what Tim’d expected he’d say.

“The timeline?” He asked, brows furrowing, sliding over to peek at Tucker’s screen.

Tucker shook his head again, angling it so that Tim could see… a section of code that shuddered faintly in and out, almost disappearing entirely every few seconds.

That.

That was not a thing that should be happening.

Tim would have loved for it to be a simple screen glitch, but it was only that one small section of code. The lines above and below were fine, and Tucker could move the flickering chunk up and down.

“Yeah, this is your problem,” the Black man sighed, wiggling the section demonstratively, clearly aware of Tim’s shattered hopes.

Heartless man. Genius man.

“You’ve had ghosts in your back end. Probably wouldn’t even show up on an uncontaminated device. Which, by the way…” he trailed off, and Tim shook his head immediately.

“Not tonight. No changes to the batcomputer without Bruce’s say so,” Tim said firmly, since he’d already fucked up once. Might as well limit the damage.

Tucker shrugged and nodded back to the section of code.

“Okay. But this… this was definitely Technus. And that makes no sense? He’s a spirit of technology, we’ve fought him a bunch of times, but if he got into the Watchtower’s code he wouldn’t just… hide,” he tried to explain, adjusting his beret fussily.

It totally wasn’t adorable.

Tim did his best to keep up though, nodding along and thinking back over everything they’d been told about ghosts so far.

“You think we’d have noticed?” He asked, and Tucker snorted.

“He likes making giant robot bodies out of toasters, you’d definitely have noticed him on your space station,” he agreed dryly, then sighed.

Frowned down at the tablet again.

“I mean, Danny could make him do it and behave himself now, but if these changes were active during the whole Pariah Dark thing… I dunno, Technus should have been a way bigger problem. He’s not subtle.”

Tim frowned, thinking about what Tucker had said and then pausing.

“Danny could make him behave now?” He asked and Tucker pulled another face. Like he hadn’t meant to say that.

“Well, yeah, Danny’s miles out of Technus’ league now,” he tried to brush it off with a laugh, “the guy knows he’ll lose any fight so he’s really not a problem anymore. We have hackathons,” he added and Tim really wanted to know more about that.

There was just. Something off about Tucker’s answer. Not the content itself, just the way Tucker clearly wasn’t saying something.

That was a problem for future Tim though. Present Tim had a job to do.

“So can you fix what he did?” He asked the important question, and Tucker made another face.

“Dude… whoever or whatever made Technus do this, will probably notice if we fuck with it,” he said warily, and Tim shrugged.

“Whoever or whatever made Technus do it couldn’t do it themselves. How would they know?” He shot back, and Tucker chewed his lip.

Shook his head.

“Lemme text Danny. He’s the ghost expert, he’ll know how much we should worry about this,” he explained quickly, pulling out his phone and shooting off a short message.

Tim gave him his very best deadpan expression.

“How much we should worry about technology ghosts getting into space and fucking with Justice League HQ. I have the feeling the answer is “a lot”?” He offered sweetly, and Tucker snickered.

“Yeah, well, we’ll see. Might actually be alright, if this is all he touched. And, since you won’t let me juice the big computer, we’d have to scan the whole thing through my PDA. Every line of code,” he added, like Tim wasn’t already dreading it.

Tim sucked in a slow breath, weighing his options.

Touching the batcomputer? Ultimate no-no. But Tim’s personal laptop… it had access to the Watchtower’s systems, and was under Tim’s personal control.

And would let Tim go through the sensitive data himself, which the core code of the Watchtower was full of. The question was, did he trust Tucker not to install anything dangerous?

That question had been answered the second he asked Tucker to help him debug though. Clearly the guy could already put what he wanted, where he wanted, and with their current tech?

None of the bats would ever know. At least if Tim’s computer got the update, he’d have a chance at spotting ecto-infused code.

There were other computers they could use of course, old or unnetworked computers that Bruce would probably insist they start with.

Which wouldn’t be able to access the Watchtower’s servers, and couldn’t hold the whole thing to be able to run a useful check.

The answer really was kinda obvious.

Tim looked to Tucker, who’d been texting away while he thought things through.

“We can’t do the batcomputer, but is there anything you could do for my laptop tonight, or do we have to wait on Danny still?” He asked, deeply regretting that they’d gone to video games instead of the tech upgrade.

At the time he’d been planning on having a burner laptop done though, so it probably wouldn’t have been as useful.

Tucker shrugged cheerfully and slid his phone into his pocket, cracking his knuckles.

“Well, I can’t give you the full infusion to let you open Amity’s encrypted data, but I can write you a little something that should expose Technus’s code even without it,” he offered, and Tim brightened up.

“How long?” He asked eagerly, wondering if Tucker would let him watch. It’d be fair if he didn’t, Tuck had been cool about not looking when Tim played on the batcomputer, but…

Tucker smirked, flicking open a new screen on his PDA.

“How long will it take you to get the laptop down here?” He asked smugly.

Tim booked shit to the elevator.

Private Chat: DannyP & TooFine

2:15am

‘TooFine: Danny when tf did u have Technus hack the JL’

‘DannyP: ……. 👀 u cannot prove i did that 🚫🚫’

‘TooFine: I’m helping Tim debug the Watchtower’

‘TooFine: double fuck u for not telling me about Batman btw’

‘TooFine: someone sent all the Amity alerts to trash’

‘TooFine: if we keep talking about this I might accidentally send something to the group chat 🤨’

‘DannyP: FUCK FINE DONT TELL SAM 🏳️🏳️🏳️’

‘DannyP: after the pd thing’

‘DannyP: cw called’

‘DannyP: they hadnt been reading the messages anyway i just’

‘DannyP: shitty people track the jl y’know? and i didnt want em knowing about us’

‘DannyP: let em all think its a joke and then no one else comes an tries to use our portal to harness the realms and blow up superman or whatever’

‘TooFine: dude u fucking told me to tell them what actually happened??’

‘TooFine: pretty sure anyone tracking the jl will work that out now’

‘DannyP is typing’

‘DannyP: ok so maybe i didnt think that through 😔😔😔’

‘TooFine: no shit. I’m fixing the code in case any new alerts come through but it’s not like they’ll bother to call’

‘DannyP: not like they need to, frighty’s got em covered 🗡️🗡️🎃’

‘TooFine: yeah yeah. I’ll set it to ping u too’

‘DannyP: ur the best tuck 🙇🏻‍♂️🙇🏻‍♂️🙇🏻‍♂️’

‘TooFine: better than u deserve’

Across the city, Red Hood and Black Bat had stopped for smoothies. Patrol was quiet, and word on the street was that Bluebird was mostly to blame.

Nobody wanted to know why she was back and taking no prisoners, so even the docks were almost deserted.

Then again, with Riddler and Waylon snapped back off the streets, Penguin lying low in fear of Harley, and Batwoman making Two Face’s life a personal hell?

Yeah, no wonder the smaller players were lying low.

Hood had pulled his phone out to check in on the Alley in case they’d be more useful there when he noticed a message from Tucker’s private chat app.

It was from Danny.

Danny had sent him his class schedule. Told Jason to let Danny know when he was free. Like class was the only thing that’d stop Danny from wanting to see him.

Jason was so lost in staring at his phone, utterly swamped in the implications, that he didn’t even notice Black Bat finish her smoothie and swap out her empty cup for his.

Danny wanted to see him again.

He’d have to work out a proper schedule of his own.

Bruce was having a Bad Day. An extended bad day, one that was fast approaching 48 hours long.

As if everything with Amity Park wasn’t already bad enough, both in the past and the present, now Constantine believed there was something wrong with Jason.

That his son wasn’t fully human anymore.

Now, Bruce’s best friends weren’t even a quarter human between them, and no matter what everyone seemed to think he was perfectly happy with meta humans.

So long as they kept themselves safe.

Preferably where they wouldn’t be mind controlled, kidnapped, or held hostage every few days. Frankly being a meta was probably stressful enough even in a normal city.

But he’d keep Gotham’s metas as safe as he could, just like Duke.

But Jason… Jason had been born human. Had lived as a human, died as a human, and Constantine seemed so sure he’d come back as something else.

“Revenant” the man had called him. An animated corpse that haunted the living, powered by rage.

Bruce might even have believed it two years ago, when Jason first returned. Jason had been so angry, intent on destroying Tim when the other was just a child.

When Jason was little more than a child.

But… that wasn’t all he was. He was himself, truly Jason Todd in ways Bruce hadn’t wanted to believe. He’d fought his rage and won every day.

Most days.

And being around Amity Park, being around Daniel James Fenton, might be enough to push him back over. To drag Jason closer back to death.

Halfas could act as psychopomps, bringing lost souls safely to the other side.

Jason had only just become himself again. They had only just begun healing the rift between them.

Bruce couldn’t lose him again.

They had to keep him away from Amity Park. It was as simple as that really; something in Jason’s resurrection had gone wrong and they all knew it.

Even Jason himself wouldn’t argue with that. Something about his death clung to him, poisoned him with that violent green rage.

His children’s reports told him that Danny was claiming to help with the pit rage because he had also been exposed. But what if he was just helping the pit?

Even if he didn’t mean to, exposing Jason to that much power that closely tied to death couldn’t be good. Constantine hadn’t exactly said as much, but Bruce could read between the lines.

Death magic was contagious between those who’d been infected. Who’d died and come back.

That wasn’t fun to know. Not with how many of his children, his friends had all died before.

Even he himself had. He’d have to investigate Amity Park personally. Take the risk himself, to keep it from the others.

Tim and Duke could help, but they were both so busy with their own lives. He would have to wait and see.

His meeting with Clark and Diana hadn’t gone well either. They’d both been gratifyingly concerned with what he’d learned and had recognized the threat.

Clark had promised to keep an ear out for Jason, to listen in on his heartbeat and make sure he was okay. Bruce would have been grateful, if Clark hadn’t also told him that Jason’s heart was noticeably slow.

Easy to pick out, even if they hadn’t spent much time together.

Just how close was his boy to dying again?

Diana had advised caution. Wanted to speak to Danny herself, see the hero who had shouldered the burden of this small town. See if he had turned under the pressure.

Pressure that should never have been his. Pressure they should all have shared, protecting the child and the town together.

It would be his fault if Danny had broken. Had given in to whatever in the Infinite Realms had stolen a whole town away.

Bruce knew that with a leaden certainty, felt the weight of it settle in his chest. The same way he knew he was responsible for most of his rogues.

He could see the wisdom in letting Diana talk to the man first. She was wiser than most of the League, and a good judge of character. Even without her lasso, it was hard to lie to her.

But if what Constantine said was true, he didn’t want to tip their hand. Zatanna and Shazam had both agreed to attend tomorrow and give their own opinions.

They could afford to wait one night. Perhaps two, if Danny couldn’t be found tomorrow.

Just about the only thing Bruce wasn’t worried about was Danny running. If he had ill intentions, he wasn’t the sort to give in and disappear so easily.

He’d threatened Bruce to stay out of things between him and Jason. And certainly wasn’t afraid of a fight.

Bruce was also quite sure that he and Diana could take the boy if it came to it, even with the abilities Constantine ascribed to the realms. He would find a way.

But not tonight, he reminded himself firmly as he strode into the zeta tube. Tonight he would go home, update his children, and get some sleep.

Maybe waiting a day or two to speak to Danny directly would help. This concussion had passed frustrating and was beginning to affect his decision making.

Shaking his head to clear it, Bruce hit the button to send him home. Soon he could rest. At least for a little while.

A gentle buzzer went off in the cave and Tim yelped like he’d been stung, clutching at Tucker’s arm in an entirely unmanly way.

“SHIT he’s back hide the candy canes!”

Tucker stared at him wide eyed, but to his credit the other man didn’t hesitate to sweep the pile of different flavoured canes off the desk and into the front of his shirt.

“Where?!” He asked, and Tim hesitated for half an instant.

The zeta tube was down by the cars. Bruce would be up in less than a minute. Spinning Tucker by the shoulders, he shoved him towards the infirmary.

“Get in there! Don’t come out til I say!” He hissed, already hearing the zeta tube’s door whoosh open.

Tucker obediently scurried away, and thank fuck he was quick on the uptake enough to drop his voice below a whisper.

“What?! Tim, what?! Am I not supposed to fucking be here?!” He hissed, and Tim pulled the infirmary door almost shut before darting back to the table.

He’d cleared it with Bruce, had texted about giving their guests a tour, but since it turned out that Tucker hadn’t already been in the know… well, he wanted to prime Bruce with the good news first.

The tube only pinged once though, so Constantine hadn’t come back with him. That was probably good. Bruce would be less cranky.

Tim wasn’t exactly back in his seat by the time Bruce reached the batcomputer, but he was close enough to watch him note the second chair.

Tim didn’t let him ask.

“I have a first hand witness account of what happened in Amity Park.” That was the important thing, right? That they had answers.

Bruce stared at him for a long moment, eyes narrowed and the whiteouts narrowing with them. Tim stared him down, refusing to look away.

He’d fucked up just like, a tiny bit. But he’d gotten results. Better results than anyone else. So was it really a fuck up?

He watched Bruce’s eyes widen as he realized, and was a little surprised when the man’s shoulders slumped. He dropped gracelessly into the swivel chair, elbows propped on the table and his head cradled in his hands.

Tim was growing a little alarmed now, hurrying forward to Bruce’s side. Was he injured? Had something happened?

His hand was just reaching out to touch when Bruce sighed and sat back up.

“Tim. Who did you bring to tour the cave?” He asked in a tired, heavy voice, and Tim’s brows furrowed.

What? He’d said, hadn’t he?

“Tucker Foley?” He said cautiously, wondering if he should call Alfred. Maybe switch out Bruce and Tucker and get the big guy into the infirmary.

Bruce was very still. Tim forged ahead, hoping to get to the good news.

“He was a vigilante back in Amity Park, part of the support team. I have his statement going back to the beginning of the ghost attacks, and he’s already answered most of our questions.”

Leaning past Bruce, he hit a couple of keys and brought up the sound file of Tucker’s interview.

Bruce was still a little slow as he turned to look, but it seemed to hearten him. Which was when Tim realized.

“Wait. Who did you think I was bringing?” He asked, brows furrowing in confusion.

Bruce shot him a sidelong frown, pulling off his cowl.

“Not a stranger,” he growled, though his heart clearly wasn’t in it. He just sounded tired.

Tim carefully patted him on the shoulder, still thoroughly confused.

“What? But I said…” he paused, pulling out his phone and staring at the texts.

Nope. No he didn’t.

Oops.

Groaning, Tim let his head drop.

“Ah fuck, and I thought we were doing so well!” He sighed heavily and Bruce made a grunt that might have been a laugh. “Alfred’s going to be unbearable.”

That shut Bruce right up, as it should, and then Bruce sighed again. They were moving past it then. Probably for the best, since Alfred would lecture them both on the importance of communication later.

At least it wasn’t only Tim’s fault. The only person who wasn’t a stranger or a bat had been Harley, and he wasn’t actually sure if Harley had cave privileges.

Well. She did now. Since that was what Bruce must have thought he was asking.

Then Bruce straightened, eyes determined and steely.

“I have new information from Constantine. The risks of the Infinite Realms.” It definitely heartened him to talk about, skipping straight to the debrief part of the day.

Maybe they could just skip right over the Tim-fucked-up-and-brought-a-stranger-to-the-cave.

“I need you all to keep away from the Amity Parkers until I know more.”

Ah.

No then. Nope, not skipping over it, because Tucker was actively still fucking in the cave. It was for the best that they’d hidden him then.

Tim shook his head firmly, hoping that if he seemed certain that would help.

“That’s not gonna work, Bruce. I couldn’t have fixed our Watchtower problem without Tucker, and we can’t look at any of the Amity Park data without an Amity Park device.” It was the theory they’d been running with, but they’d had it confirmed now.

Never mind that Tucker had already downloaded most of what was publicly available for them. Bruce would always want a primary source anyway.

Tim pretended it didn’t affect him when Bruce’s head jerked, eyes narrowed as he scowled at Tim.

“You let him into the code for the Watchtower?!” He exclaimed in a hiss. Which was interesting, since Tim had kinda figured the bat cave thing would be more personal.

Then again, the Watchtower could compromise more than that.

“Bruce, read the report on Tucker. We literally couldn’t stop him if he wanted to hack in, because his tech runs on levels that slide right past ours. Tech he’s already sharing,” he added sharply, reaching behind him without looking to hook his laptop forwards.

Bruce, mouth already open to argue, quieted at once. Yeah, new toys always helped. Tim nodded to the batcomputer.

“The update’s ready to go live, but I waited because you need to see this. Open the third window,” he nodded over, pulling up the corresponding section of code on the laptop.

Bruce’s expression pinched but he did as requested, clearly not willing to put another step between himself and the answer. A quick glance up to confirm, and Tim nodded to himself.

Fuck, he needed a laser pointer.

“So it all looks good up there, right?” He pushed and Bruce frowned, but nodded, eyes scanning quickly across the screen.

“Is this your update?” He asked but Tim was already shaking his head, pushing his own laptop towards the man.

Bruce’s eyes widened at the glitching sections of code. Tim nodded, satisfied he’d gotten Tim’s point.

“Tucker Foley wrote me a program so that I could access this ghost code. In half an hour. From scratch,” he added for emphasis, and yeah, he could already hear the lecture about “compromised tech”.

He tried to shut that one off too, pointing up at the screens.

“That? That’s apparently the work of a ghost. One called Technus, who likes to possess technology, and now Tucker and I are going through every line of the Watchtower’s code looking for changes.”

Bruce’s lips thinned to a tense line and he gave a short, harsh nod. He very obviously didn’t like it, but the presence of a bigger threat did wonders for calming him down.

Tim patted his laptop.

“We’re waiting on you to upgrade the batcomputer, but we’re gonna need to check every program on that too. Everything, Bruce. These ghosts could have been rewriting everything. And we’d never know if I hadn’t asked Tuck to help me with the Watchtower.”

Honestly, Tim was just hoping none of their rogues had made any ghostly connections. The implications made his head spin, but he stubbornly kept himself on track.

They needed Tucker’s help. Never mind that the ghosts themselves were reportedly allergic to subtlety and would always go big over going home; that was a tendency, not a guarantee.

Hell, if Tim had a say, he’d get Tucker’s upgrades for the ghost code, improved firewalls, and Danny’s ectoplasm into all his own gear by tomorrow.

He wasn’t going to, Bruce’s paranoia being what it was, but he was already uploading Tucker’s program to his suit’s wrist computer. It wasn’t like there’d be any hidden malware.

Tim had watched over his shoulder as Tucker wrote it, direct on the PDA. And watching him work had been… it was just…

He so rarely got to talk to anyone that was actually on his level. Rarer still that they weren’t a direct member of the family.

And Tucker, for all he currently had a tech advantage? He’d invented that advantage himself. All on his own, he was incredible. Maybe even better with some aspects of software than Tim himself.

The things they could do together… even the internship was pretty much a formality at this point. Just get Tuck through college and see if he’d accept a job at WE.

Hell, if he wanted to found his own company Tim would invest. That kind of brilliance deserved everything it needed to grow.

He had to wrench himself back to the present moment, the “introduce new genius to Batman” step still looming large, but honestly? Tim wasn’t worried. Bruce would see the potential.

Here and now Bruce’s gaze had gone distant, and Tim could easily have kept going, but he stayed quiet. Let the man absorb new information, stop and think.

And if he still wanted to make dumbass decisions, well, Tim could argue with him literally all night. They’d all picked up Bruce’s stubbornness too.

It was hard to focus on the screen through the throbbing of his head, the lights too bright even at their lowest setting. He’d checked.

Luckily, it was an issue he’d been dealing with for years, and Bruce pushed it aside with the resigned acceptance of long practice.

He’d pay for it later. That night of sleep was probably going to be a day of sleep at this rate, but he’d get at least six hours. More if Alfred caught him.

For now… Tim felt very strongly about this. Had good reason to, if he was even half right about the scope of the problem, or Tucker’s uses as a solution.

After hearing from one member of the Justice League Dark, Bruce was desperately hoping Tim was right. They sorely needed an ally, one they could trust to guide them through these dangerous waters.

Of course, Fenton and Foley were close. That may skew his judgement, but it could be accounted for. Wasn’t worth more than an ally whose skillset Bruce understood, and could trust.

Tucker Foley was a tech expert, which put him above any occult master in Bruce’s book. Magic had no rules, not that could be relied on, and Bruce wouldn’t touch it if he didn’t have to.

And Tucker’s tech would work with his own.

There’d be a review period of course. He’d have to meet Tucker himself, speak to him a little, get a sense of the man. See how far his opinions would be based in fact, not feeling.

Tim’s vouch was a good first step. As little as Bruce liked that Tim had brought an outsider down to the lab. And then let him use Tim’s computer.

And honestly, it certainly wasn’t Tim’s fault that Bruce hadn’t asked. He’d been lax, not checked properly, and it was that damned concussion slowing him down.

He needed sleep. His thinking was dangerously clouded. But one thing was always true: he trusted Tim’s judgement. Probably more than he trusted his own at the moment.

They could review the situation in the morning, come up with some suitable punishment and protocol to introduce new vigilantes to the cave (which they’d never needed, because other heroes usually came through the League and were already vetted).

A thought struck and Bruce almost smiled. It would be a fitting solution on three separate sides. Maybe the punishment would be easy after all.

“Alright. I’ll need to speak to Foley first. And you will be writing out fresh protocols to address when a new hero but not a league member can be introduced to the cave,” he added, and Tim groaned loudly.

Bruce ignored him. That was just the start of his troubles.

“You will also be responsible for running John Constantine through the full reporting system, and updating the training materials so this doesn’t happen again.” It was a weight off his shoulders, really.

And a fitting punishment, because Tim would definitely think twice before pulling this stunt again. The man himself threw both his hands into the air.

“What?! Bruce! You said you fixed it!” He whined, and Bruce resisted the urge to smile.

“And I fixed Amity Park. But I highly doubt this was his only error, so the two of you will have to review every case he’s reported on before you go back on patrol.”

It was probably several hundred since they’d had the new system alone. Tim groaned like Bruce was sucking the soul from his body.

Bruce levelled him with a stern look.

“I take the secrecy of the cave seriously, Red Robin. This will not happen again.”

“Because I’m gonna die of old age sitting at a desk with Constantine,” Tim grumbled, folding his arms and scowling.

It wasn’t even something he could write a program to fudge for him; every case would need Constantine’s personal input to be sure it was filed correctly.

Bruce was quite pleased with this solution. But he made sure to hide the smile from Tim, who wouldn’t appreciate it right now.

“Tucker Foley may end up working out for us all, but that’s no guarantee a future mistake won’t be fatal. And Tim…” even if it was a formality at this point, he had to ask. “Do you trust him?”

The answer was obvious, this was Tim’s personal laptop, this was the Bat Cave, and as expected Tim nodded immediately, the sulk from his punishment vanishing.

“He’s a good guy. He’s even made a clean set of Amity Park data you can look through until Danny fixes the batcomputer.”

Ah. And there was the problem. With a solution wrapped around it though, so Bruce focused on the cleaned set of data.

If Tucker was anything like Tim, it’d be extensive enough to keep him busy until the Justice League came to a decision.

Until he could speak to Danny. Speak to Jason.

He was so tired.

Bruce nodded, leaning back in his seat.

“Alright. Tucker Foley is exempted, but I need you and the others to stay away from the rest, and particularly Danny Fenton until the League has made a decision.”

It was just a little heart breaking watching Tim’s face fall from hope and happiness straight back into worry.

“But Bruce… he’s helping Jason with the pit, he might need to see him,” he argued, arms folding again.

Bruce shook his head. That was exactly what he was afraid of.

“I know… and I know how Jason feels about following orders. I’ll tell him myself, tonight.” Luckily he was still in the batsuit, if not the cowl.

Raising his wrist to his face, Bruce activated his secondary comm on the group channel. He’d turned both off when his children headed out, fully aware Oracle would override it if they needed him.

He didn’t need to be distracted by the noises of a normal night.

“Everyone, return to the cave before heading in please. There have been developments I need to update you on.” Nothing to worry them, but hopefully interesting enough that Jason would still drop in.

No talk of protocols or anything. No, that was Tim’s future.

Tim, who was looking at him oddly.

“Who told you Jason went out tonight?” He asked, and Bruce frowned. Looked up at the batcomputer, and realized that the tracker screen wasn’t open.

That could be a problem.

“Didn’t he?” He asked, really not looking forward to asking Dick to ask Jason to drop by tonight. If Jason was actually home, actually sleeping…

But Tim shook his head, that odd expression still on his face.

“He never said he would, but he called in after taking Danny home. He’s out with Black Bat,” Tim added, and Bruce frowned.

Why even bring it up if Jason was out? What did it matter?

Tim, clearly seeing and understanding his confusion, groaned and tugged at his hair.

“Bruce. Please, just… listen to me. Danny isn’t the threat here. He’s been nothing but helpful. He’s the one who picked up the ball when the League dropped it, who dealt with all the ghosts we can’t. He saved that town-”

“We don’t know that, Tim,” Bruce cut him off, shaking his head sharply. “We can’t take that risk.”

He could see Tim getting frustrated, temper flaring, and in an odd way, it made him feel better. Calm. In control.

“Bruce, you stubborn… so what? We just tell Jason to keep away from the only person who makes him feel better?” Tim asked sarcastically, and Bruce could see exactly how he’d missed the point.

This was what he’d have to watch for with Tucker Foley. But the technical advantages would be worth it.

“We don’t know that he’s making the pits better,” Bruce said darkly, and fuck it felt good to even voice the thought aloud.

Made it feel real, less like paranoia.

Tim gaped at him, but didn’t argue.

Bruce raised a hand, counting the points off on his fingers.

One.

“None of us heard anything about him a week ago. Not even a few days. Fenton has been here over a year and only just ran into Jason?” It wasn’t possible.

It didn’t make sense. Gotham was a large city, sure, but for two people apparently so closely linked? No.

A second finger rose.

“Danny himself claims that he is helping with the pits.”

“Jason agrees,” Tim cut in, clearly looking to break his train of thought. Bruce silenced him with a stern glare.

“Danny claims he is helping with the pits. Jason claims to have noticed the same thing, but we already know the pits affect his mind. He may not understand what’s being done to him.”

That? That made perfect sense. The pits had driven Jason into those uncontrollable rages, made him do things he’d never have wanted to.

Who was to say they couldn’t have a more subtle influence? More dangerous? More like Ra’s himself.

Even Tim couldn’t argue with that, and Bruce nodded his satisfaction at the boy’s silence, raising a third finger. This… he wasn’t looking forward to this one.

But its weight had been sitting in his chest since the possibility came up, and he didn’t want to hide anything from his boys. They deserved to know the risks.

No matter how much he’d rather protect them from it.

“The little f… Constantine believes there is a chance that even being close to Danny may have dangerous side effects for Jason, purely accidentally.”

Tim’s eyebrow rose at the aborted description, and Bruce was glad he’d clamped down on it. Couldn’t quite meet the boy’s eye as he continued to explain.

“Danny’s connection to… his death,” the words were hard to even speak, another child lost, “is what gives him his power. It’s strong, and may have radiating effects Danny doesn’t even know about.”

Because that was kind of the worst part. There was a chance that Danny truly meant everything he’d said in earnest. That he was Jason’s friend, wanted to protect him.

Wanted to help Jason come back to himself and be free of the pit rage. That they did truly care for each other, and wanted to make each other better.

And none of those good intentions would matter if Danny’s mere presence risked Jason’s soul.

He could see Tim realizing it too, eyes widening and the aggression slumping from his shoulders. But he’d decided to be honest.

Clear, open communication. They could try.

“The way Jason came back… we still don’t know how it happened, or why. But anything half living and half dead can have side effects on the world around them, especially for those who have already died.”

Danny might be here to take Jason away. Back to the dead.

He’d meant to say the words, to lay it bare, but in the end he choked on them. Couldn’t even face the thought.

Tomorrow. After he slept. If they still needed convincing, he’d try again tomorrow. Which did neatly bring them to point number four.

Steeling himself, Bruce shifted his gaze back to Tim, raising his pinky finger.

“And if you are right, if Danny really is helping… it’ll only be for a few days. I meet with the League tomorrow. Zatanna and Shazam will both be there to give their opinions.”

Suddenly Bruce just felt tired. Tired of arguing, trying to make people see things his way. All he wanted was a couple of days. Just to be sure. Just to be safe.

Tim raised an eyebrow again, shifting slowly to lean against the other chair.

“Then why will it be a few days? Why not tomorrow?” He asked cautiously and Bruce chuckled.

Of course Tim knew him well enough to know there would be something else.

“I’d like to talk to him myself first. Perhaps have them meet him directly. Just to be sure what his intentions are in the city.”

“And with Jason,” Tim put in flatly. Bruce just nodded. The boy was right.

“With the city and with Jason,” he agreed, looking back up at the large screens of the batcomputer.

Pulled up the location tracker for his bats and birds, watching their little trails of light run across the city. He wouldn’t let any of those lights wink out.

Tim sighed and shook his head, coming to lean against the back of Bruce’s chair instead. Not quite tall enough to rest his chin on the top of Bruce’s head, and not likely to grow much more at nineteen.

“I still think it’s a bad idea,” he said bluntly, eyes tracking the Red Hood dot in particular. “You’ll only push Jason further away by trying to control who he sees.”

Bruce shook his head, leaning back just a little more into the presence of his son.

“I don’t care if Jason hates me for the rest of his life, so long as it’s a long and healthy one,” he said softly, and Tim snorted.

Pushed away from the chair, and for a moment the distance ached.

“Yeah, well. When it blows up in your face, I told you so. Did you wanna see Tucker tonight or tomorrow?” He asked, and Bruce’s head snapped suddenly around, scanning the cave.

“He’s still here?”

Shaking his head, Tim made his way across the cave to the infirmary, pulling out his phone where Bruce couldn’t see it. He shot off a quick text, not looking down.

‘J. Don’t come back to cave. B has mega bitch face just let him cool down’

Across the city, the message flashed in the corner of Red Hood’s helmet visor. Groaning to himself, Hood kicked a goon’s gun into Gotham bay and waved to Black Bat.

“You good? I gotta send a text.” He called, deeply offending the eight goons still standing, armed with knives and fucking pipes, and tussling with Black Bat.

Which only got worse when she shot him a quick thumbs up, sat on a particularly tall goon’s shoulders before throwing herself back so far the guy toppled, twisting them in the air so she still somehow wound up on top.

Hood nodded, pulling out his phone one handed.

“Hey! You can’t just text! We’re not done!” A goon protested, rushing in at Red Hood.

Who pulled his gun and shot him in both kneecaps, sending him sprawling to the slick planks of the dock.

This was why he always took out their shooters first. Batman could preach hand to hand all he liked, it was way safer when the bad guys had holes in their hands and no guns.

“Anyone else?” Hood asked rhetorically, pointing the last gun on the dock at the remaining goons in turn. In unison, all six focused their attention solely on Black Bat.

Not because they thought they’d win, but well. She didn’t have a fucking gun.

“Yeah, thought so,” Hood grumbled, sending a quick message back to Tim.

Paused to take a picture when Black Bat actually got three heads at once into a leg lock, because that had to be a record.

‘Is it to do with your big fuck up?’ Cuz honestly, what else could B be pissed about?

The answer came back though, fast and weird.

‘As hard as I also find it to believe this, no. Magician’s got him all twisted around about Phantom. Wants to forbid us all from seeing him.’

The phone creaked in Jason’s grip as he read the last words, a low rumbling growl spilling from low in his chest.

The remaining standing goons whipped around and exchanged startled looks.

That. That definitely wasn’t fucking good. No way.

Black Bat took another to floor as they paused, and the last three fled. Didn’t quite make it to the door.

Jason didn’t notice until her hand landed gently on his shoulder, concern radiating off her. His head whipped round, and he was suddenly glad the full helmet covered his face.

Couldn’t see the way he fucking snarled at her.

Black Bat didn’t move, her head cocked to one side as she regarded him.

“Eyes. Glowing,” she told him carefully, reaching up to touch the side of his helmet.

Jason jerked back in shock, but he could already feel the green rushing away. Receding until his vision purely his own again.

He hadn’t even noticed the green haze.

Black Bat inspected him again, then nodded, going on tiptoes to pat him on top of the head.

“What’s wrong?”

Red Hood sucked in a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment to recenter. He’d never felt the rage come on that fast, from nothing to all consuming before he even felt it.

Even thinking of the messages made angry green tides again.

We will not be kept from the King!

And it was talking to him again. Lovely. Why couldn’t that part have been his imagination?

Shaking his head, he focused on Black Bat’s question instead.

“Just B bein’ an asshole again. I’m gonna pass on the cave tonight, tell him I went to bed.” It was about as much as he thought he could talk about it without screaming.

Almost forgot that Black Bat could read him too, her aura still soothing and open to him as she nodded. Rested a hand gently on his shoulder.

“Go now. Rest,” she told him firmly, turning back to the downed and groaning goons.

Red Hood hesitated, looking around the dock. It was getting early, nearly time to turn in anyway, and they were done here. Just a routine drug shipment.

The last lot too dense to be cowed by the mood on the streets, or counting on the hour to mean the bats went to bed. Cuz that went so well for them.

He nodded and moved to help her, flipping the biggest goon over and zip tying his wrists to his elbows, and then his ankles.

“After I help you wrap your presents,” he agreed, heard Black Bat let out a soft huff of laughter.

One of the still conscious goons shot him a glare.

“Y’could at least pretend to take us seriously,” she grumbled, then yelped as one of her fellow goons kicked her in the shins.

Clear message: do not push the crazy bat.

Red Hood snorted.

“I’ll take you seriously when you’ve fuckin’ earned it,” he told her, going for the next biggest body.

Black Bat could take every one of them out of the fight, but bagging and tagging a dead weight was much less fun for her. He could handle that part before turning in.

He had a big day tomorrow.

Private Chat: DannyP & TooFine

4:30am

‘TooFine: dude Tim just shoved me in a closet I don’t think Batman knows I’m here?????’

‘TooFine: dude’

‘TooFine: dude wake tf up I might need emergency evac 🚨🚨’

4:35am

‘TooFine: that fucking Constantine guy’s put a bug in Batman’s ass’

‘TooFine: told u we shoulda hunted him down 😤’

‘TooFine: and after all I did to help!! Ungrateful bat!!’

4:46am

‘TooFine: okay Batman fucking hates u specifically ur screwed 😳’

‘TooFine: I’m good tho 😇’

‘TooFine: I think he likes me now 😏’

‘TooFine: he wants all my sweet tech upgrades’

‘TooFine: they’re gonna let me play on the batcomputer!!! 😳😳😳’

5am

‘TooFine: u are missing vital updates bitch’

‘TooFine: he’s gonna fucking ground Jason from hanging out with u’

‘TooFine: AH SHIT HE KNOWS IM HERE ABORT ABORT ABORT’

8am

‘TooFine: u may have been right going to bed early man this shit sucks’

‘TooFine: didn’t even get to see what happened’

‘TooFine: they sent me to bed like a naughty child! 😤’

‘TooFine: I’m changing all his ring tones to Funky Town’

10:59am

‘DannyP: okay miette’

11:02am

‘HalfBitch: OKAY IM SORRY TUCKER AT LEAST TAKE THE MAGIC MIKE THEME OFF’

——————————

Next Chapter:

Tag List: @welcometosasakiworld @kyrianclawraith @someonebored0100 @stealingyourbones @starkcravingmad @frostedthroughghost @akikkobara @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 @perfectwastelandcreation @onyxlightdragon @larks-and-katydids @peachesandcreamfemboy @jesus-camp-the-sequel @may-rbi @mothman-the-mothman87 @viyatrix @stargirl1331 @idfk-man10 @thedepressedrobin @skulld3mort-1fan @rootsmudge @ravenshadow17 @cankoking @phantom-dc @mentalcarebear @magic-pincushion @redamancyardor @lyra689 @itsparadoxlacuna @alcorbearson @asphyxia778

#dp x dc #danny fenton dead and loving it #dead on main ship #jason x danny #danny x jason #one fine day in the middle of the night #still no smooches here tho #just bat angst and softness #chapter 13 #unlucky 13 cuz i forget the number exists

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sleepyfan-blog · 1 month

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Offer

Author’s Note: this is the second part of mer-trai’s fic!

Previous.

Tagged: @egrets-not-regrets @kit-williams @bleedingichorhearts @the-pure-angel @bleedingichorhearts

Warnings: mild yandereness, worshipful speech/thoughts, Trai is So Normal:™:

Summary: Trai has a brief chat with his lovely goddess.

Trai was grateful beyond words that the little goddess who had rescued him from the torments he refused to tell her about in detail (not wanting to burden her with the miseries she had freed him from) had not only freed him from his literal chains, but upon learning that he could barely move, weakened by months if not years of near-starvation in addition to the wounds that his captors had inflicted upon him, had brought him to a large, well-lit facility that tended to sick and injured sea life. He had been... Wary of the human doctors who had approached him, the instruments they held far too similar to what others had used to torment him with - but you, his beautiful goddess had noticed his agitation and reached out, cupping his face and murmured words of reassurance. Explaining that they were there to clean his wound and patch him up to the best of their abilities.

The fact that baseline analgesics and pain relievers were so effective on him, as they put him to sleep and worked on his badly injured body only spoke to how badly he had been injured by his previous captors. Trai also tried to bury the shame that he'd felt after waking from nightmares that he had once more woken up in the cruel hands of his captors, and that his little goddess coming to save him had been nothing but a pleasant if cruel dream and that he would never be rescued. Trai tried to pretend that part of him wasn't hurt that his previous warband hadn't tried to rescue him - for he would not go to them once his little goddess said that he was strong enough to return to the open oceans. He had let out a distress call, activated his emergency distress beacon. His armor had been recovered alongside the rest of him, and Trai had been graciously allowed by his lovely goddess to go through his things.

His captors had not deactivated the distress signal. He had asked if any other mers had been captured by those who had held them in their cruel grasp. The answer had been yes - a Lamenter had been recently captured, along with a semi-feral World Eater. Neither of them had been part of his old warband. Trai intended on doing whatever he could to prove himself to be an excellent devotee to his beloved, lovely little goddess. Baseline humans led such fleeing lives, but there were ways a mer could extend the life of a human. When he had the strength to do them, he would ask her if she wanted such a boon.

His beautiful goddess worked in wildlife restoration, of helping the weak and the sick gain strength in safety and return them to the wilds from which they had been taken from. Trai found that you doing such a thing was incredible - and entirely fitting within your benevolent and kind nature. He just hoped that he would be able to prove to you that he would be an excellent addition to the team. He didn't need to breathe air as you and your fellow baseline humans did, and once he had the energy to do so, he called for you to watch as he crooned to a sick sea tortoise whose size and stubbornness made treating the creature nearly impossible to do so safely.

With the abilities granted to him by his genesire, Trai sung sweetly to the sick tortoise, putting the creature into a docile state. He followed the directions you gave him to the letter when it came to bandaging the damaged flipper and tending to the awful cracks in its' shell, smiling brightly at her as he finished tending to the beast and saying "Do you see, my lady? I can help you, as you have helped me. I have no wish to return to what I had been doing before I had been captured. Please let me stay at your side."

You blink in confusion and mild concern as you reach up and cup his face "But don't you miss the open waters? These healing tanks aren't meant for long term habitation."

Trai shook his head, leaning into your touch. While it wasn't against the letter of the laws that the alliance had hammered out, it certainly went against the spirit of those rules laid down, to explain what Astartes were. What they were created for, and why they patrolled the seas of Ancient Terra so faithfully. "I do not, my lady, and I am unlikely to miss them while you are here. I just want to help you, as you have helped me. Besides, I can do this now that I am better fed and am no longer at death's doorstep." He concentrated and began to swim through the air, bringing you up into his arms, eyes shining bright as he fights the temptation to kiss your stunned and fascinated face. "I can hold my breath for a very long time - and in my armor, I can survive the depths of space itself for prolonged periods of time."

"You... You can what?" You ask, a confused and curious expression appearing on your face.

"I can swim like this through the void of space." Trai explains, a pleased grin appearing on his face "I am as at home in the air as I am in the sea, and I was made to withstand the sea of stars above. To-" He bites his lip and looks away from you, realizing he was saying more than he should.

"To... To what? Are you from outer space? Is there a reason why you chose Earth to live in? Why are you all so heavily armed most of the time? Is there some secret space war I don't know about?" You ask, equal parts curious and mildly nervous.

"No, no. We... Ah, I am not supposed to say, it is against the rules that the bossy ones have laid down to tell you... But if you ask me again, I will tell you alone, my lady." Trai murmurs, his voice dropping low "But I do warn you, it sounds... Very strange, and you are unlikely to believe me."

"Please tell me, I do want to know. We.. So many of us are so curious as to where you all came from. Sure there have been legends about merfolk for centuries, but no one had a credible account of seeing any of your people until about forty years ago or so." You ask, the curiosity is too much for you to not ask. Not with how Trai dangled the information in front of you.

"For reasons none of us can fathom, each of us suddenly wakes up somewhere on your world, waking up in a place that we've never been before. Most of the time we are in the water, but not always. As near as we can tell, it is peaceful in this solar system, although we do wear armor in case we are attacked by dangerous forces. But your world is safe, it is protected. We will not let any enemy lay a hand on any of you. Not that those enemies are aware of your existence, and we do our best to ensure that stays true. You give us shelter and kindness. In return we do our best to protect you from dangers that would consume you, body and soul. Please ask me no more, I have sworn not to reveal more... Unless..." Trai would be thrilled and honored if... Ah but you had your own life to live on land, and he wasn't like the greedy cousins and brothers who would force the change on their precious human, stealing them away from all they loved and knew.

"Unless what?" You ask, curious.

"There are several ways to turn a human such as yourself into a being similar to myself. I... am not yet strong enough to do such a thing, and I would not turn you against your will. We merfolk live for hundreds, thousands of years without aging as humans do. Our bodies are strong and our minds keen. I... Intend to offer you this sort of immortality when I recover enough, but the decision is yours, and will be yours to decide as long as you live. I must caution you however. the transformation is permanent and one-way,as far as I know." Trai explains, looking at you with open adoration and care. "If you became like me, I would be able to explain everything."

"I... I see..." You were overwhelmed by the enormity of the offer, and while you desperately wanted to know what the merfolk (apparently merfolk from Space, holy fuck!) and their whole deal was about... Was your curiosity worth losing your humanity over? "Wh... Why would you offer me this? I'm just a sea life conservationist."

"You saved me from torment and a slow, miserable death, my lady. a fate that the... Group of merfolk I had been traveling with and considered as close as brothers did not attempt to do. Not even once. How could I not offer all that I can in repayment, my lady? I owe you my life and sanity, my lady. There is nothing within my power I wouldn't offer you, should you want it."Trai explains, his honey-brown eyes glowing softly, as were his many tattoos.

You... Hadn't realized just how intense this merman was and you were definitely struggling to figure out how in the fuck to respond. You could hear the near-manic edge of worship in his voice, and the open awe and devotion with which he looked at you.. It made your mouth run dry. Just what had you gotten yourself into? "I.. That's... That's quite the offer, Trai. I... It's not a decision I'd make lightly. Please give me time."

"As you wish, my lady." Trai croons, smiling sweetly down at you, still leaning into your touch. His honey brown eyes warm and filled with trust and.... An emotion you weren't sure you wanted to name.

"You should return to your tank, Trai, some of your stitches are starting to pull." You point out.

The large mer blinked, looking down at himself and nodding "You're quite right, my apologies. I wouldn't want to ruin the careful work you did on helping keep me in one piece." He retreated back to his tank as your mind tried to process his offer... And the information he'd given you.

#my writing #space marine husbandry sentience #warhammer 40k #oc: trai #reader insert #adeptus astartes x reader #at least Trai is hoping for that #celestial seas au

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trgdaily · 2 months

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INTRODUCING - TRIGGER DOUBLE-CROSS!

A four-month-long digital TRIGGER fan event made to celebrate 9th anniversary of IDOLiSH7 and the four new TRIGGER songs we're getting across July to October!

This event will feature:

An open creative period for all things TRIGGER, be it art, writing, cosplay, anything!!

Tons of fan events and prompts to allow even those who can't find the time to create (or don't see themselves as creators) to join in from questionnaires, Rabbichat Book Clubs, and more!

A lengthy, flexible period designed to show all the love possible for TRIGGER, be it specific members on their birth months, or all three (or four, if you want to include Kaoru!) for four months straight!

Further information can be found under the read more!

WHAT IS TRIGGER DOUBLE-CROSS?

TRIGGER Double-Cross is a fan event designed to show all the love fans have for TRG! Its goal is to pay tribute to TRIGGER throughout the four months in which duets and their anniversary song are released, using the combined efforts of any contributions fans can offer to keep the celebration going from July to October! The name "TRIGGER Double-Cross" represents how this event is held digitally, just like TRIGGER Live Cross VALIANT was. It's meant to represent us striking back - giving all of the strength they gave us during VALIANT right back at them!

HOW DOES TRIGGER DOUBLE-CROSS WORK?

Because it's a digital event, all you guys need to do is tag your work with #TRIGGERDOUBLECROSS or #TRGDOUBLECROSS (Or just @ the TRGDaily account, really) to have your contributions get featured/shared! Super simple and easy!

You can also join in by chatting with your fellow TRG fans through the discussion posts and questionnaires! Anything goes! That said, THERE ARE RULES as to what will lead you to not be shared by TRGDaily itself, and therefore not counted in the event at large, but they're rather straightforward.

RESPECT OTHER FANS AND THEIR OPINIONS. We all love TRIGGER at the end of the day no matter what our opinions may be!

THE ABOVE RULE DOES NOT APPLY TO TRANSPHOBIA, RACISM, OR ANY OTHER FORM OF DISCRIMINATION, THOUGH. If discrimination is seen on your account when we check out your involvement in TRIGGER Double-Cross, your work WILL NOT be shared.

Ships are allowed (I mean, we're getting duets, I'm certainly not stopping anyone in enjoying those lol.) but they need to be kept within TRIGGER itself. For example: GakuTenn and RyuTenn content will be shared, but GakuTsumu won't. Please keep in mind though, that this IS a GENERAL TRIGGER event first and foremost, and please do NOT take the amount of shipping content TRGDaily retweets as a sign of favoritism between ships.

If you feel as if TRGDaily has failed to recognize your contribution, please note that the moderator is only human, and while he has help, things are bound to slip between the cracks. You can notify the account in this case, but please don't spam or delete your posts sharing said creations/contributions.

One last note is please stick to #TRIGGERDOUBLECROSS or #TRGDOUBLECROSS as using the dash (-) will break the tag.

Apart from that, the event will start on July 1st with a VALIANT memorial event soon after!

Let's give off INFINITE LIGHT!! ✨ 🤍🩷💙

#trgdoublecross #triggerdoublecross #trigger #idolish7 #tenn kujo #gaku yaotome #ryunosuke tsunashi

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church-of-lilith · 9 months

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Vinylatte Good Omens Fic Masterlist

the maggie/nina tag on ao3 post season 2 has been almost impossible to navigate if you’re trying to find actual fics of them. so i decided that i would compile all of them i could find and put them here in one place for anyone who’s been looking.

**denotes fics where they’re more of a background pairing, but still prevalent

Pre-Season Fics

Shrinking Violet by deathbymistletoe

Really cute one shot written and published after the early screening of the first two episodes. Explores Maggie’s feelings for Nina but is canon divergent after 2x02

divine intervention by literary_lesbian

In which Nina thinks her intentions are pretty clear, but Maggie needs a bit more reassurance.

all this (and heaven, too) by literary_lesbian

5 times Nina & Maggie assume Aziraphale & Crowley are together + the 1 time they actually are.

Collections/Series

Atlas (then suddenly, I saw you) by Andnever_ever_eatpears

A collection of fics set throughout Maggie & Nina’s relationship. Currently at 8 works but the author says there’s 11 planned so definitely keep an eye on this one!

When I’m Ready I Hope She’ll Be There by gutsandglitter (@applebottomclaudiajeans)

A collection of fics that take us through Maggie & Nina’s relationship as it develops. Currently at 4 works and they’re some of the sweetest most well written stories you’ll ever read.

One Shots

The times, they are a-changing by WrittenMemxries

4 times Nina enters Maggie’s shop + 1 time she enters her house

i’m begging for you to take my hand, wreck my plans, that’s my (wo)man by Lavenderknives (@lavenderknivess)

Maggie is closing up the record store, but Nina has something she wants to say.

lost in your current like a priceless kombucha by Lavenderknives (@lavenderknivess)

Short crack-ish fic where Maggie makes her own kombucha and brings some to Nina.

my, my, how can i resist you by Lavenderknives (@lavenderknivess)

Maggie and Nina have a silly little movie night because they deserve it!

and she aches (just like a woman) by literary_lesbian

A year after The Whickber Street Traders and Shopkeepers Association meeting, Nina comes to terms with what she really wants.

and yet it moves by literary_lesbian**

Aziraphale knows he should leave Earth behind entirely, if he means to take his role in reforming Heaven seriously. But when Maggie calls out to him, he can’t help but listen in. He never was very good at following the rules, even his own.

a new light by literary_lesbian

Nina has always hated the holiday season and the decorations her fellow Shopkeepers on Whickber Street enjoy utilizing to the extreme, year after year after… Until Maggie comes along and sheds some light on a few things.

terms of endearment by literary_lesbian**

In which Crowley learns something new about humanity, and he and Aziraphale finally come to terms with their feelings.

hymns for a broken heart by andiwriteordie

Five records Maggie gives to Crowley, plus one she gives to Aziraphale

worm-hearted by findmebythemilkway**

“Would you still love Mr. Fell if he was a worm?” Maggie blurts out and immediately blushes. Nina snorts in her respective corner. Crowley, who’s been busy eyeing both the television and the bookshop, redirects his eyes to her. Maggie offers him a toothy grin. “I’m… sorry?” Crowley asks. He can’t wait for Aziraphale to arrive and hear this.

I’m ready by Culties

Nina has a confession to make and reminisces on her relationship with Maggie so far.

Like Real People Do by My__name__Leo**

Aziraphale and Crowley are on a double date with Nina and Maggie. But what happens when Crowley gets overwhelmed?

who wants to live forever? by lovelosvers**

“Maggie,” he turns mock serious. “Would you describe The Velvet Underground as bebop?” She looks bewildered. “Never in a million years,” she says. “So you see my point, then,” Crowley grins.

Tilt by DoonaRose

Maggie tells Aziraphale that her and Nina have started a relationship but that he can’t tell Crowley because Nina doesn’t want to hear ‘I told you so’. Aziraphale tells Crowley because he can’t help himself and then Crowley decides to show Nina that him and Aziraphale are also now doing the kissing and being a couple thing.

a little uncertainty by TheTellersEye

Maggie and Nina talking about the future and being cute.

Mr. Fell is Back by ughdotcom

Mr. Fell is back. Nina and Maggie have a few comments.

Multi-Chapter Fics

Moving On by neowitcher

Maggie and Nina have endured a lot in a short amount of time and now that Aziraphale is off to Heaven, any heavenly or demonic threats seem to have departed. Now, the two women are left spending their days in each other's company and are steadily growing fonder of each other. Maggie fears she's moving too fast when all Nina wants to do is move on.

The Third Fall by cordsycord

The Second Coming of Jesus Christ, son of God, came to Earth, against the predictions of dozens prominent religious scholars, on the relatively normal day of June 21st 2024, four months before the Earth's 6028th birthday. It was raining in London. The M25 was backed up. The Tube was late arriving to one station, and early arriving to another. Tourists took pictures at all the places that tourists enjoy taking pictures at.

Coming Back Around by CLOVERTOWN3

After Aziraphale leaves Earth, Crowley is left to drown in his sorrow. Together, Maggie and Nina weigh the tasks of keeping Crowley in check and solving the mystery of Aziraphale's strange and sudden promotion. All the while Muriel learns more about love, heaven, and the nature of humanity.

Whickber Street Relationship Counseling (And Rescue Service) by staroversea

The incredible true story of how 8 shopkeepers become responsible for a very emotionally fragile demon.

Uncharted Territory by Justanothernerdsstuff

Seven months after Aziraphale took his new position in heaven, Crowley is coping the best he can.

Most Ardently by borealisaurora**

Aziraphale brings Pride and Prejudice with him to Heaven, and with its help and the help of some friends, he realizes where he went wrong with Crowley and what he needs to do to fix it.

We Could’ve Been Us by elusive_ellipsis**

Aziraphale's last words to the one being he could ever say he loved were "I forgive you," but he knows that Crowley will never forgive him. Nina and Maggie try to convince him that he can make it up to the demon, but Aziraphale is only staying on Earth until he accepts that their relationship is truly over.

You’re Crashing but You’re no Wave, You’re Just an Angel Cast out of Heaven by Blueleaf12

Where is Crowley supposed to go after the Metatron whisked Aziraphale away to heaven? Bunk across the hall from where the Archangel Gabriel once resided in Aziraphale’s bookshop? Fuck no, now was the time to mope with those two human women you royally messed up trying to get together.

Something lasts forever by Aidaran

After Aziraphale leaves, Crowley is left to drink himself to death and be just as miserable as he can be. Lucky for him, Nina doesn't have patience for drunk demons in his shop, and Maggie is always willing to give a helping hand.

what it all comes down to by dollsome**

Aziraphale starts sneaking out of Heaven to visit Give Me Coffee or Give Me Death. It helps immensely.

Shepherds of the Damned by angelwithawand**

After Aziraphale leaves, Crowley carves out a life of his own.

on the inside and no sunlight by the_moonmoth**

In which Crowley makes some friends, Aziraphale does some thinking, and they both learn a thing or two about communication

#good omens #good omens 2 #good omens fanfiction #good omens fanfic #vinylatte #ineffable husbands #ineffable bureaucracy #ineffable husbands fanfic #aziraphale x crowley #maggie x nina #crowley #aziraphale #maggie good omens #nina good omens #muriel #vinylatte fanfic #fanfic masterpost

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genshrineimpact · 2 years

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Today's brainrot (possibly one of two or more)

You are an adventurer who is stationed in liyue

You saw and explored all of liyue, discovering various ruins and artefacts. During one of your adventures you stumbled upon a giant nest in a cave. There were multiple shattered egg shells, or at least what looked like ones, but they have been there for at least a month, abandoned. But among some rocks, slightly away, you find a weird, round rock, that was brown and smooth with some golden markings on the surface.you thought tht it was a rock, until you heard some chirps coming from it.

After some internal debate, you think that whatever this creature was, it's parents didn't exactly care about it and took it home.

You placed it in some warm nest made with cloth and blankets, washed its surface and checked on it few times a day. After a few days, you invited traveler for some lunch at your home in liyue harbor (let's say you helped them during liyue archon quest and became friends). They had this elegant man tagging along and you didn't mind. You knew zhongli as a furneal parlor consultant and briefly met him earlier, but that was it.

Cue Zhongli being weirdly skirmish around your house, like he was looking for something.

Then you decided to show the egg to the traveler and his companion, talking about how you didn't know what was that, but it seemed alive so you took it in. Then you looked at them, and traveler had weird, shocked look on their face and Zhongli, well...

I leave the reaction up to you lol

luke back at it again with the brainrot everyone say thank you luke for the meal 🍽

i am combining these two into one because i can hope you don’t mind ehhehe also snakes are so cute awww look at that tiny lil face i wanna boop that lil snoot <3 who's a good snakey snakey??? yes you are!!! <3

zhongli can feel it, the energy of a fellow mythical beast, and so that’s why he’s so antsy, looking around the vicinity like an animal who smelled a nearby predator and is trying to locate it. their presence is unwelcome in the city - in what used to be his city.

when you show them the egg, zhongli is tempted to yank it off you and fling it away towards the mountains because a xiushe definitely does not belong in a human abode. mildly concerned for your safety, he tells you that it’s a beast that can grow into an extremely massive size, said to be able to even swallow a primo geovishap whole. and he tells you that he will gladly relieve it from your hand.

now, obviously, you don’t know zhongli well enough yet, and even though you’ve heard of people singing praises to him, you’ve gotten a little attached to the egg, so you’re reluctant to part with it. i mean, sure, a funeral parlor consultant’s knowledge must be pretty extensive, but does he really know what he’s talking about in this case? you’ve heard about him being broke and having to borrow people’s money - what if he just wants to take the egg and sell it for some mora??

but then the traveler who is your friend also nods along and tries to convince you to let go of the egg, saying something about how it didn’t feel “right” and that you can trust zhongli, because he definitely knows what he’s talking about…. so with a pout, you pat the egg one last time and tries to hand it over to zhongli.

- the thing is, when you were about to do this, it starts to crack along the golden markings. you freak out because you thought you damaged the egg from your pats. zhongli and traveler internally freak out because “oh shit it’s hatching are we too late oh crap oh fu-”.

a golden-colored snake head pops out from the top, a pair of unnaturally tiny horns jutting right above its big beady red eyes, which were intensely staring right at you. a familiar sounding chirp cuts the tense silence.

it’s…. very adorable.

safe to say that you decided to keep the little one despite the two people’s insistence for you not to. zhongli tells you a xiushe is most definitely not a pet, but how can you believe him when the little thing keeps bumping onto your hand gently, asking for head pats? in the end, you tell him that if he’s that worried, he’s more than welcome to check in with you every now and then, to make sure everything is fine and dandy and the beast hasn’t swallowed you whole or something.

... which is the beginning of how you and zhongli started spending more time together. xiuxiu is always with you (truly, you possess a superb naming sense) third-wheeling much to zhongli’s displeasure. both of you slowly realize that you’re enjoying each other’s company very much, and your relationship develops further in a slow-burn, feels-steady-move-slow kind of way; from mere acquaintances of a friend to actual friends to best friends to dating-but-not-really to finally-dating to unofficially-married.

and throughout it all, zhongli absolutely adores you, he really does….. he just wishes you would stop bringing the snake beast on your dates.

the irritating reptile clearly knows of his draconic ancestry and has a personal vendetta against him. whenever he's around you, the lesser reptile makes it its job to rile him up. always wrapping itself around your body in some way or another, hissing whenever he gets too close- he swears he saw it smiling, perched smugly on top of your head when you tell him that you have to get home because it’s feeding time for your cute xiuxiu.

zhongli’s seen the snake wandering out in the fields and swallowing a whole darn hilichurl. he really thinks it can feed itself just fine.

“are you sure that’s xiuxiu? maybe you mistook it for a snake monster? i mean, look, ‘li! he’s so tiny! how can he eat a whole hilichurl, aren’t they the size of human children?”

he’s been waiting for the right time to tell you about his past, but at these times he’s so tempted to just blurt it out. maybe even transform into his dragon form, so you’ll finally believe him when he says your cute little xiuxiu’s actual body has now enabled it to eat an adult human being if it so wishes.

well, at least he sleeps better at night knowing you’re safe cuddling with your clingy snake child… though he wishes it was him you’re cuddling instead... (literally the "Ah Yes. Me. My s/o. And Their Sentient Reptilian Mythical Beast" meme sldfjlsjdfk)

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #zhongli #zhongli x reader #rin writes #rin answers

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commander-jbennett · 2 months

Text

Why are there so many pretty people on the Enterprise???

Like...A higher concentration than the average starship.

#how do you do fellow humans = crack tag

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eris-snow · 1 year

Text

𝐈'𝐦 𝐃𝐨𝐧𝐞.

Tags: fluff, Bakugou x gn!reader, breakup

I've written many stories out of spite.

Guess this, wouldn't be my first.

To everyone, you were someone that was relatively passive. It was difficult to even get in a fight with you since you would diffuse the upcoming argument with a few well-chosen words. So when you got together with one of the extras in 2B, Bakugou never expected that you would ever yell at your boyfriend.

When Bakugou found out you got together with that lowly bastard, he almost blew up the oblivious messenger (Kirishima). Twice, actually, especially when he saw how awfully the scumbag treated you. He pushed you around, talked over you as if you were just an accessory that made him look good, and it made Bakugou's blood boil.

"That fucking bastard...! I'll kill him, with my two bare hands just you fucking wait-!"

But then he saw it. The way you laugh half-heartedly at his jokes as if trying to count the reasons why you were still with him. When he finally mustered enough guts to ask you about your love life, you immediately got defensive.

"He's amazing, really. He just has a hard time expressing it."

Hard time expressing it, my ass, Bakugou thought. He could see it, as plain as day. The guy just doesn't care about you.

The truth is brutal, but it's real.

You're just desperately conjuring vindication for a guy who was just using you to look good. And no matter how rational you were, in the ballcourt of love, you were hopelessly unreasonable.

So as you babble on about his supposed 'good' qualities to him, Bakugou just stood there with his back turned towards you, because he doesn't want you to see the anger collapsing to hurt on his face.

"I get it, Y/n. You can stop now," He'd said.

But someone can only take so much, can't they?

Because even you, who had a fuse as long as the ends of the earth, it never meant that you never felt anything to begin with.

Bakugou had only heard it from your broken frame later on in the day, but it was sufficient for him to put together the picture you tear-strickeningly painted.

Your boyfriend had come up to you a few hours ago, demanding that you stopped hanging out with Bakugou's squad because they were a "bad" influence on you. For the first time in your relationship, you retaliated.

They were your friends, and there was no way in hell that you were going to stop hanging out with them simply because your boyfriend asked you too. Then came the blackmail.

"I'm doing this for your sake."

A step towards you.

"They aren't good company,"

A mocking caress on your face.

"You should be spending your time with me, hm?"

You step backwards, back hitting the wall behind you.

"Especially that Bakugou fellow."

You clamp your hands on your ears, shaking your head stubbornly.

"Stop it," You whispered.

"He's most likely going to turn out as a villain, anyway."

"Just SHUT UP!" You roared.

Something snapped when he said that. Like a sturdy wooden plank splitting in half. Splinters fly everywhere, tiny dust particles fluttering to the ground as the deafening crack sound signals it's had enough.

"Some hero you are, Bf/n," You snarled, eyes welling up with unshed tears. "You use me, manipulate me and now you're trying to blackmail me?" Each word is enunciated with biting hurt, hurled at him one by one with pure, pent-up rage.

"Hell, you don't even bother to treat me with respect. Forget being a hero, you can barely pass off as a decent human being!"

Surprise was written across his face, evidently taken aback by your sudden outburst. "I'm done, Bf/n. You hear me? I'm. Done."

Shaking off the shock, your boyfriend-now ex-tries to reach for your hand when you were about to leave his dorm room.

I'll treat you better.

I'll make it up to you.

It won't happen again.

You shake him off. Not even a simple apology for his never-ending mistakes.

It's only in Bakugou's arms do you let yourself break down. You tried so hard, did everything right and more...

But he was the wrong person.

Bakugou doesn't even try to take advantage of the situation. The only thing he cared about at that moment was you. Why wouldn't he? You showed up at his dorm room near dinner time on a Saturday evening, looking as if you were about to fall over any second.

It was one of the few times he felt his heart sliced open once he took in how distraught you were. "You deserved better, so, so much better. Forget that asshole," Bakugou muttered.

Both of you didn't know it at that time, but it turns out a decade later, it's his ring that's around your finger.

#mha #mha fanfiction #bakugou x y/n #bakugo x you #bakugou katsuki #bakugou katuski x reader #katsuki bakugō #my hero academia

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punks-never-die205 · 5 months

Text

Honeysuckle: Red

afab!reader x Vampire!Eustass Kid

cw: Vampire AU with blood, violence, gore, some very marginally dubious consent, 18+ only

Summary: Vampires are real, and the World Government has ways of maintaining the balance of power and peace between humans and Vampires. Most of it is simple extortion, but one person's desire for freedom threatens to upend the delicate balance and change the world completely.

Tag List: @keiva1000

Chapter 3: Hunger

You stayed seated on the couch. The master of the house had told you not to move and you intended to hold to that request as best as you could. You heard the door open and close and realized he had left you in his house, fully unattended as far as you could tell.

You were exhausted. It wasn’t just the run through the forest for hours that had done you in, it was the emotional rollercoaster that it had been from the moment you had stepped foot into this house. It was, in all ways, a sanctuary compared to what you had run from, but the experience was far more intense than you had expected.

You were neither injured, nor consumed, nor returned to the facility.

Now that relief was sinking into your body and your adrenaline was fading, there was very little keeping you awake or aware. The fire in the hearth was comforting, not too hot, and the flames were a little mesmerizing as you started to doze off sitting upright. Every crack and pop of the fire helped to keep you awake, every creak of a house you weren’t used to. Each noise hits your brain like the boots of marines breaking down the door to drag you back.

But you only have so much to give, and you’ve long since reached the limits of your stamina. Head lulling back, you sink into the couch and fall asleep.

It’s hard to say how long you dozed off, but you’re vaguely aware of the eyes on you before you open your own. Sitting across from you is the master of the house, looking unperturbed and relaxed.

“Enjoy your nap?” He asks, golden eyes glancing up from the book he’s reading to regard you for a moment before he returns to it.

“Y-yes, my apologies.” You groan, sitting up and trying to focus. You’re still bone-tired, so you couldn’t have slept for too long.

“You look like death warmed over, little flower.” He says, not even looking up at this point. “Fortunately for you, when I play with my food, I like it to be able to fight back.” He pauses, glancing up again.

“Sorry, play back.”

He lets the discomfort of the implication sink into you a little before returning back to his book. “Since you gifted yourself to me, I’m sure you can guess what that means.”

“Th-that-.”

“That I can do whatever the fuck I want,” he says, cutting you off. “I haven’t had an amusing distraction in long time, so I intend to make the most of you. With that in mind, you’re going to sleep.”

Quicker than you could see, he was beside you. One hand was under you, lifting you up and over his shoulder before he walked out of the room. “I’m going to put you in a room, and you’re going to stay in that room until I come get you.”

“Y-yes, but um… b-bathroom?” The heat of his hand against your thigh is making your face red. Aside from the earlier man-handling as he jerked you around in the dark, you weren’t really used to physical touch. Aside from medical exams and blood-typing, there wasn’t much interaction even between your fellow honeysuckles.

“There’s one connected to the guest room.” He says, walking through the dark mansion. “Leave the drapes closed, keep the lights low. If you get cold, sleep, don’t light a fuckin’ fire.”

Walking into a room he tosses you off his shoulder. You yelp as you land on the bed, and once you’re done bouncing against the mattress he grabs your face, squishing your cheeks, and turning your face in one direction. “Bathroom.”

Letting go of your face he glares down at you for a moment. “You’re exhausted, repeat the rules. I want to know you heard me.”

“Don’t leave the room. Don’t light a fire. D-don’t touch the drapes?” You answer, rubbing your jaw a little.

“… and the lights?”

“A-and the lights, er, keep the lights low.” You repeat back.

“Good. There’s more behind those eyes than fairy tales.” He says, crooked smile on his face.

“… I’m not naïve.” You grumble, sitting up.

A heavy force shoves you into the bed, and after your brain catches up with what’s happened you’re almost nose to nose with the vampire. Golden eyes hold your gaze as his fingers twitch against your hands. He forces your hands to your sides, a grin splitting his face as you reflexively struggle.

“You are terribly, deliciously, painfully naïve, little flower.” He assures you, head tilting as you can feel his breath against your neck. “The pleasures I could find in you don’t even begin with the euphoria of drinking you dry.” You can feel his fangs tease the small hairs on your body, not even truly touching your skin.

The sensation and situation have your heart pounding, in fear you think, but you felt fear when the marines knocked at the door, and this wasn’t that. Your body aches to move, but as pinned as you are you can’t even twitch. Your face is red, and your breathing is coming out wet and heavy, and you aren’t sure you could hear him over the sound of your own breathing, but you didn’t miss a word.

“The sounds you don’t even know you can make.” He promises you as he shifts again, catching your attention with his eyes. “Yet.”

You feel the weight of his knee come up onto the bed and begin to shake so much you’re almost hyperventilating.

“Shh, shh, shh, breathe little flower.” He coos, and something in his gaze and the sound of his voice forces your entire being to calm down. You’re still nervous and trembling, but you aren’t on the verge of panicking yourself into a coma.

The air around you shifts entirely as he lets you go and steps away. “Piss in the bed and you’ll be sleeping in it.” He grumbles, walking out of the room.

Minutes pass by as you lay in the bed. You’re afraid if you move too suddenly you’ll throw up from the mix of nerves, fear, adrenaline, and arousal. As terrifying as he looked, he was beautiful, and you hated that.

Once you collect yourself you make your way slowly to the bathroom and clean up a little. Looking through cabinets and closets you find enough workable pieces of clothing to cover yourself in clean clothes after a brief shower. Even brief, the warm shower did a lot to help calm you down, and by the time you climbed into the bed you were well beyond what you thought were your last legs.

It had been barely dark when you had run from the facility. It was barely light as you drifted off to sleep.

Tomorrow was a new day, for the first time in your life you slept in a different bed, and you’d wake to a world outside the facility. For now the other details were irrelevant. Your small victory was still itself a victory, and you would appreciate it.

. . . .

Tomorrow also brought a new sensation you weren’t used to.

Hunger.

Your stomach knotted in strange ways as you woke up, and at first you thought you were ill. The burning sensation in your muscles, especially your legs, and the tension in your back were reminders of all that you had gone through the night before. Time you usually spent resting had instead been spent running, or being terrified, and the carefully curated meals of the facility were not crafted for such exertion.

Even though your meals had been bigger than most others once the physicians realized that you were losing weight, it still wasn’t enough to off-set the events of yesterday. You had been so nervous when they were trying to discover why you were suddenly losing weight, fearful that your deceit and plans would be washed away by a single checkup. Fortunately, it had been written off as you simply developing a higher metabolism.

They did a few more extra tests, monitored your new food adjustments, and seemed perfectly happy when things leveled out again. You were very careful not to over-work yourself after that first scare.

Clamoring out of the bed, you walk around the room. Daylight reflected into the room through the curtains enough to allow you to see easily. There wasn’t much else in the room aside from the bed. An overstuffed chair sat near the fireplace you weren’t allowed to light, and there were only a couple oil lamps you could even hope to reach, but you weren’t supposed to use those either.

You were fairly certain that the rules of last night had been to keep from giving away that there was someone in the manor in need of light. Even so, you weren’t uncomfortably cold, and you didn’t need any more light than you already had.

The gurgle of your stomach was weird, and while it wasn’t painful, it was irritating. A new sensation, sure, but you weren’t in the right state of mind to appreciate it’s newness.

Since you weren’t supposed to leave the room, you decided to distract yourself by digging through the closet. There had been a surprising amount of clothing in there, and maybe you could find something that would fit.

The only clothes you owned, after all, were nearly in shreds. You were a decent hand at embroidery, but you weren’t sure that you could mend them.

You find a pair of linen pants and a loose shirt that you manage to hold in place with a sash easily enough. With a little adjustment you even found some undergarments to wear. It took almost an hour, but in the end you make yourself a functional, and comfortable outfit. It wasn’t like you had fashioned clothes from thread you spun yourself, but it still had you feeling resourceful.

You didn’t want to climb back into bed with your day clothes on, so you leaned against the wall by the curtains and looked outside through the small gap. There’s not much to see in the tiny sliver of area you have available, but it’s more than you ever saw from your own room before, and you drink it all in.

The exterior of the house is a light blue-grey color, with dark navy trim. It looked almost entirely black last night, but it wasn’t a scary color in the daylight. You wondered what the rest of the manor looked like with the sun up, but as you understood how vampires lived, the master of the house wouldn’t be around to get you until the sun began to set.

It was a long time to go without food, but you could miss a day without concern.

So you assumed.

It wasn’t necessarily the hunger that was hard to face, it was the hunger without anything to distract yourself. There weren’t any books in the room, or parchment. None of the sweet distractions you were used to, and you didn’t want to jog in circles. You didn’t know when you were you were going to eat next, and wasting what energy you had seemed like a bad idea.

The sun had moved across the sky some distance, and your curiosity won out over the rest of you. The doors opened in and weren’t locked, so you listened by the keyhole for a moment before carefully opening the one side. If there was someone else in the manor you didn’t want to create a problem, but you needed to at least look out in the hall before the sun set.

You looked down the hall from inside the room, and stuck your head out of the doorway enough to look down the hall in the other direction. Long stone halls with thick, blood-red carpeting. Suits of armor lined the hall, and heavy, menacing looking weapons were on display. The ceiling was high and arched, and there were murals painted on it, but you didn’t look at them long enough to sort out any details. What caught your attention was a single tray outside the door with a covered plate in the middle of it. You could reach it easily from where you were – without even having to leave the room – and so you hooked a finger on the lip of the tray and pulled it into the room.

Dried meats and fruits, a slice of bread and some bits of cheese. It was hardly a feast, but it was a load more than you expected to have. You forced yourself to eat a little slower than you would’ve liked, but despite your attempt you still cleaned the plate in under twenty minutes.

Opening the door to put the tray back you nearly fell onto your ass at the site of him standing in the doorway. The sun wasn’t setting yet, but it also wasn’t like there was any direct sunlight in the hallway either.

“Naïve. Little. Mouse.” He clicks his tongue, reaching out and taking the tray from you, lifting the lid and glancing over at you. “Didn’t even stop to think that I could’ve done something to the food.”

You pale, taking a step back. “I… you…”

“Oh, I’m perfectly capable.” He assures you, dropping the empty tray out into the hall as he steps into the room. “Terrible, monstrous, evil, blood-sucking vampire.”

“Y-You haven’t been t-terrible.” You try to keep your voice steady, but some part of you is worried you really did eat drugged food. You wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt, since you had very few options available as it was. “Con-considering everything you-you’ve been… g-generous.”

“Mm, not kind, huh? Interesting.” He licks his lips and practically looms over you. “I’m still not sure just how naïve you are. You didn’t touch the drapes, didn’t leave the room – even slept like the dead too.

“Comfortable enough to bathe and use clothes that aren’t yours, and scared enough you can’t even meet my gaze.” You look up at him at that and he quirks an eyebrow. “There’s fear in your eyes, but that’s not all.”

He crouches down to be at eye level with you, if not a little lower, and grins. The expression is a mix of amusement and hunger. You almost shrink back from it, but manage to keep yourself still.

“Give me your name, little gift.” There’s a command in his voice, despite the ease of his body language and the grin on his face.

“(Y/N).” You say softly.

“Eustass Kid.” He offers. “Master of this manor.” He reaches out and barely runs his thumb over your lips. “I fed you, you should show your appreciation.”

“Th-thank you for the food.” You say it as clearly as you can, but you already know that’s not what he’s referring to. The heat rising in your face is certainly giving you away as well.

“Mmm. Naïve. Little. Mouse.” He muses again. “I’ll close my eyes for you, why don’t you try again.” He says, closing his eyes. “I’m being very generous, so don’t take too long.”

Swallowing heavily, you lean in before embarrassment can slow you down and kiss him on the cheek. You barely manage to pull away when he starts laughing. He laughs for so long you start to feel a little indignant. He tries to talk a couple times and devolves into laughter again and again before he manages to get himself under control, even walking into the hall for a moment to try and compose himself.

“Well played.” He says finally, holding your chin in his hand and tilting your gaze up to his. “Very amusing, little morsel.”

#Honeysuckle: Red #Eustass Kid #x reader #reader insert #Vampire AU #one piece fanfiction

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thehomeofplatonicfics · 2 years

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Please, Stay Away

Peculiar!Reader x Miss Peregrine (Platonic!)

You sat in the little window nook in the parlour, staring out at Cairnholm and watching your fellow peculiars have fun without you. It was better for them if you stayed away, alone, where you couldn’t hurt anyone. You were terrified that you could really harm someone with your peculiarity.

This fear has not always been there, however. A few weeks ago, you had completely destroyed Enoch’s re-animated doll after he had freaked you out in surprise. He was still mad at you. He has several choice words to say about you and your ability, and since then you began to slowly withdraw from everyone, thinking that perhaps it would be better for them if you left the loop entirely.

You watched intently as a new peculiar arrived and Miss Peregrine introduced him to everyone. It was only a matter of time before they found you, and you knew you had to hide. You had to protect this newcomer. Even from your vantage point in the window, you could see how Emma looked at him. You couldn’t bear to hurt her feelings by harming him by accident.

You felt the anxiety begin to bubble up within you, and you scarpered from your seat in the window, running to try and find a good place to hide. Trying to breathe and control yourself, the fear of hurting someone was too much, and you couldn’t control the rough spread of ice that slowly started spreading throughout the house.

Several minutes passed before the other peculiars began to notice the ice, as they began slipping on the frosty floor. It didn’t take long for Miss Peregrine to be alerted to the situation as, while she was talking to Jacob, they heard a shriek from inside the house coming from Claire, and the Ymbryne frowned as she saw frost on the grass heading towards her rapidly and becoming a thick layer of ice.

Hearing Claire shriek only made things worse for you. You bolted into your room, forgetting to shut the door in your panic that you were actually going to hurt another peculiar when all you wanted was to keep them safe from you. You felt you weren’t a peculiar at all, just a monster.

You dived under your bed, huddling into yourself, shaking not from the cold but from your fear. The glass from your window shattered from the intense cold your accidental winter was creating. You peeked out to see your entire room was now almost solid ice.

Meanwhile, Miss Peregrine had gathered the children and got them to a safer place outside the home. Emma and Olive offered to go into town to get a little treat for you to help you feel better, and Jacob was tagging along. Once they had left the Ymbryne headed off to deal with whatever was going on with you.

The icy stairs were too difficult to try and climb and Alma knew she would be of no use if she hurt herself. So, she quickly turned into her falcon form and flew upstairs, returning to her human form just outside your door. Slowly she advanced into the room, the cautious click clack of her heels alerting you that you were no longer alone.

“Please, stay away from me!” You begged, curling into yourself more, trying to hide your hands into yourself to stop the ice spreading, but to no avail. “I don’t want to hurt you, please...” Your voice cracked as tears rolled down your cheeks, only to start to freeze halfway down.

Miss Peregrine stayed by the door, her arms folded as she tried not to shiver. “You’re not going to hurt me, Y/N.” She paused, tilting her head. “Why do you think so?” You started explaining what Enoch had said to you, and how it had made you feel. As you did so, Miss Peregrine slowly got closer and closer until she was at the foot of your bed. Grabbing your frosty blanket and placing it on the floor to protect her knees (both from the ice and the glass) she knelt down and bent her head to look at you under the bed.

“It was very wrong of him to say such things, Y/N. You should know that you have a wonderful gift. Think of all the help you have managed to give us every day with it. Your peculiarity doesn’t make you a monster, it adds to your perfections.” She said the words so sincerely, that you couldn’t help but believe her. You thought about how lucky you were to live in the loop and have such a wonderful Ymbryne to look after you. Hesitantly, you edged your way out from underneath your bed, and sat beside Miss Peregrine on the blanket. She reached out to gently pick off the frozen tears on your face which made you smile.

“What do you say we clear all this ice off?” Alma asked, making you laugh as you nodded, putting your hands onto the icy floor and sucking in all the cold back into you. You waited until you heard all the other peculiars chatting and giggling, knowing that you must have succeeded. You smiled resolutely up at Miss Peregrine, who proceeded to pull you into a tight hug. You really did have the best home in the World.

#mphfpc reader insert #mphfpc imagine #miss peregrine x reader #platonic reader insert #miss peregrines home for peculiar children

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bakedbakermom · 10 months

Text

Stained

Chapter 2: Sedulous // start at the beginning

tagging @today-in-fic @ao3feed-msr

sedulous adjective 1. constant in effort 2. accomplished with careful perseverance --- Research and ruminations.

God, they’re barely more than children , Scully thought, not for the first time, then chided herself for being so dismissive. Mulder trusted them, had known them—at least online—for years, and had vouched for them dozens of times. It wasn’t like her to doubt his contacts and sources. Lord knows the Lone Gunmen had looked every bit as unimpressive at first, and they had come through for them more times than she could count. Deep Throat had given his life for them. Hell, even Bambi Barenbaum had proven herself useful once or twice.

Still, as she listened to them argue, she couldn’t help but wonder if this whole endeavor was doomed.

“I’m just saying, Silence Clarice was lucky Hannibal was behind glass the whole time.” Xander tossed a piece of popcorn in the air, lunged for it with his mouth wide open, and missed. “He would have snapped her like a twig.”

Buffy picked up the fallen kernel and threw it without looking up from her book; it hit him squarely in the eye and he gave a startled yelp. “Small is scrappy, Xander. Don’t make me prove it to you.”

“And it’s just such a classic,” Tara added, face half hidden behind her hair. She put a hand on Willow’s arm. “Sweetie, you know I love the gingers, but you can’t argue the first one still keeps you up at night.”

“Only ‘cause of the thing with the puppy,” Willow conceded.

“Really?” said Buffy. “The whole graphic disembowelment thing doesn’t get to you?”

“I like puppies.”

“I liked that Hannibal fellow,” Anya chirped from behind the counter, where she was sorting a shipment of what looked suspiciously like mummified spider legs, if spiders were the size of golden retrievers. “He had a real flair for vengeance.”

Definitely doomed.

Scully leaned back in her chair and pinched the bridge of her nose. Three hours of pouring through dusty, mildewed tomes while a gaggle of twenty-somethings bickered about pop culture was enough to make anyone’s head pound, even if they hadn’t just donated a couple pints to their newly vampiric partner.

She and Mulder had stopped at a drugstore on their way into town—he stayed in the car rather than face the fluorescent lights—so she could properly bandage her wounds with gauze and some antibiotic ointment. At his insistence, she had also bought a bottle of painkillers and taken two, but the medicine was doing nothing for the throbbing behind her eyes.

“Here,” Giles said, chuckling as he set a mug of tea in front of her. “Trust me, it helps.”

Scully smiled her gratitude and raised the cup to her lips. It was sweeter than she expected, rich with cream, and she lifted her eyebrow at Giles as she sipped. “I thought you Brits looked down on people who don’t take their tea black.”

His eyes traveled meaningfully from her neck, to her arm, and then back to her face. “Trust me. It helps.”

Oh. “Thank you.”

Giles moved so his body blocked her sight of the kids at the other end of the table, giving them some measure of privacy. “Are you all right?” he asked delicately.

Scully bit back her first response; she was well aware of her own penchant for denial when it came to her health, mental or physical. She would say she was fine until her mouth was too full of blood and broken teeth to speak. But the old man was looking at her with such kindness in his eyes, such understanding, that she felt her veneer crack. “No,” she said softly, setting down her mug. The sweetness of it was suddenly too cloying, its herbal aftertaste too much like swallowing graveyard dirt. “And neither is Mulder. I know you’ve been corresponding for years, but I see him every day. You never saw the man he was, and what he’s become now… I don’t know how much longer he can stand it. How long I can.”

“A vampire ensouled is a creature of grief and pain, a demon’s lust for death crippled by human empathy and guilt. I’ve known only one other, and even after centuries to adjust, he was tormented; but he used that torment to do a great deal of good. It’s true Mulder may never be the same, but he can still have a worthwhile life.”

“Centuries,” Scully breathed. “If we don’t find a way to help him, he’ll really..?”

“As long as he avoids sunlight and getting on Buffy’s bad side, he could live forever.”

She thought of the pain in her partner’s eyes, the shameful way he licked her blood from his lips, his cold skin with a monster burrowing beneath it. She imagined him living in darkness, forever, watching as everyone he’d ever known or loved withered and died. He had already lost so much—his father murdered, his mother who took her own life, his sister whom he had lost once and then a hundred times more. What would be left of him when nothing at all of his human life remained? She shuddered.

“And these… kids? They can actually help?”

“I know they look young, Miss Scully. God do I know,” he said, leaning his hip against the table as he sipped from his own mug of tea. “But these strange, loud, infuriating people have been through more than you or I can imagine. If anyone can find something to help your partner, I trust it would be them.”

“You really mean that, don’t you?”

Giles lowered his voice, though the others were unlikely to hear him over their own excited noise. “Xander is the smartest idiot I’ve ever known, though I’ll deny that completely if you ever tell him. Anya has witnessed a thousand years of human and demonic history. Willow is an actual genius, and beyond that she and Tara are intensely powerful witches. And Buffy…”

Sadness and pride passed over his features—a look she remembered seeing on her own father’s face during those sweet, fleeting moments when parents realize their children are growing up. It made her heart ache. “Buffy is a hero. It’s in her bones to help, to save. She wouldn’t surrender even if her life depended on it. Especially then, in fact.”

He rested a warm hand on her shoulder. “Don’t give up on our man just yet.”

He smiled as he watched the group around the table chatter away, the very picture of the indulgent patriarch. Gratitude welled in Scully’s heart as she saw them the way Mulder must have seen them—a family. Misfits, freaks, and outcasts who had somehow found their way to each other, and despite their broken pieces, built something beautiful and strong.

She knew the feeling.

The Magic Box was empty except for their group, its doors having closed to the perusing public around dusk, but the self-christened Scoobie Gang showed no sign of slowing down. This was their third straight night gathered around the large wooden table at the back of the shop, its legs creaking under the dusty weight of ancient texts piled upon it. The discard stacks in the corners grew every hour, but Giles never seemed to run out of new books to bring in from the back room or his own home.

Despite their subject matter, Scully had taken great comfort in those thick, musty volumes; they reminded her of nights spent in the library during medical school, cramming for exams with her friends, guzzling coffee and junk food and chattering about anything they could think of just to keep each other awake. Some of these books even had the same kind of disturbingly graphic yet coldly clinical anatomical diagrams as her textbooks.

Though these books held nearly nothing of the science she loved, they nonetheless represented the same human desire to document the past and carry it into the future, bound in worn leather and yellowed pages; ships in bottles cast into the world in the hopes their messages would help someone else.

Still, the line had to be drawn somewhere.

“Werewolves? Mummies? Demons? You guys actually believe in this stuff?”

“Dated one,” answered Willow and Xander at the same time.

“Used to be one!” piped Anya.

Scully’s headache grew a shade worse. Giles patted her shoulder and went to retrieve yet another box from his car.

She tried to focus on the ponderous tome open on the table in front of her, a book of remedies written in one of the few languages she could understand—presumably some form of German, though roughly one word in eight was too archaic for her to recognize. The other books were written in languages more obscure still; they had gone through most of the English volumes on the first night of their search. Translating them would be the work of a lifetime; even skimming a single volume for relevant words and phrases took hours, and a fear was growing in her belly that all of this effort would turn out to be futile. If the others shared the same concern, they didn’t show it. Three nights in a row they had shown up with snacks, coffee, and an enthusiasm that bordered on mania. They would be half-asleep in their chairs by dawn—or in Xander’s case, fully asleep and snoring—and she loved them for it.

So much of this still felt so unreal; she turned the thick page and began to pick through what turned out to be a recipe for making cough tonic from the scales of something called a polgara, alongside an illustration depicting a reptilian creature with enormous skewers sprouting from its humanoid arms; the author of the tonic helpfully reminded her to exercise caution around the pointy bits. She wanted to slam the book shut, hop on a plane, and return to the more vague and deniable lunacy of her regular life. Mutants and aliens and government conspiracies she could understand, maybe even explain. But magic? Real magic?

She glanced over at Willow and Tara, their fingers twining together as they compared notes. Those first few hours after Mulder’s… transformation… had been bewildering, terrifying, and while she might have been borderline delirious with blood loss and nursing a moderate concussion, she couldn’t deny what she had seen. It was a sight she would take to her grave.

Buffy had bound Mulder in chains, and he hung between them with a face from a nightmare, snapping and foaming pink at the mouth like a rabid animal. While the other Scoobies took up their places in a loose circle, leveling crosses and crossbows at him—and Scully slumped against the wall, refusing to leave his side even now—the two young women stood before the snarling beast that used to be her partner, uncowed as he hurled graphic threats and curses at them. Scully could only watch in stunned wonder as they summoned something so beautiful and so primal that even now she couldn’t find the proper words to describe it.

She had felt the power in that room as white light pooled into the orb suspended between their outstretched hands, the air itself chiming with its purity. She didn’t recognize the language spilling from their mouths, but she heard the music in it, the command; the chanting doubled and redoubled upon itself, echoing through the space until Scully felt she could reach out and pluck the words like birds from the air and cradle them in her hands.

When finally the spell reached its zenith, power throbbing against her skin like the heartbeat of creation itself, Willow had called out one last echoing command; the light that they conjured fled all at once, leaving Scully staggered and half-blind in the sudden dark.

At first she feared it hadn’t worked, that the dying of the light was a sign that the darkness had won, until she saw the last tendrils of that brilliant light fading in Mulder’s eyes— Mulder’s eyes, green as the first breath of spring, staring out with pain and confusion from a human face still smeared with her blood.

She had wept, then, and stumbled forward on weak legs to drape her arms around him. “Scully?” he asked in a trembling voice. “What happened? I don’t—I don’t remember…”

He would remember, and soon, but for that moment he was just Mulder again. Her partner, her friend. The man she trusted with every inch of her soul.

And Willow and Tara had restored his.

Maybe believing in magic wasn’t so preposterous after all.

Buffy slammed her book closed, sending a puff of dust into the air. The table—and everyone sitting around it—jumped. “All I’m finding here is new and inventive ways to kill vampires. I already know how to do that. In fact, it’s kind of my whole thing. Not one word about how to make one all soft and cuddly again.”

Willow set her own book down in agreement. “I’ve got plenty of stories of humans getting turned into vampires—some of which are actually quite gross, by the way—but nothing the other way.”

“I still think we should try the whole exorcism thing. I’m pretty sure this group can handle a little pea soup and swearing.”

“Xander, I already told you,” Anya said, coming out from behind the counter to sit beside him. “Even if we could get the demon out, the body is still dead. Without the demon to hold it together, all you’d be left with is a pile of dust.”

Tara raised her hand. “I vote against dusting. I mean, of Mr. Mulder. General cleanliness is fine.”

“Well hang on,” Willow said. “Maybe that wouldn’t be so bad. I think there’s a resurrection spell in here that could—”

“No!” the others all cried at once, some in anger, some in fear.

The girl sat back in defeat, her eyebrows knit together in frustration, and Tara put a comforting hand on her arm. “No, sweetie. You know those never go right. You know that.”

Something dark crossed Buffy’s face, and the rest of the group carefully avoided meeting her eyes. Scully wondered why, and made a mental note to ask Mulder when they were alone again. “She’s right, Wil. It’s too dangerous.”

“But—”

“Enough.” Giles didn’t even raise his voice, but the authority in it was unmistakable. Even Scully felt herself sitting up a little straighter at his tone. “This man is our friend. He has helped us out on countless occasions, and has given us information that has saved many lives, including some of ours, at no small risk to himself. Now I’ve told this woman—” he gestured to Scully “—that there is no group in this world more qualified to help him, and I believe that. So I would like to see a little less naysaying and a little more optimism. We haven’t even touched the Sumerian archives yet, or the Heian healer chronicles—and they were practically miracle-workers. Not to mention the Anstopiary codex, the Aurora archives, I have an order in with a bookseller in Qatar that—”

“Giles,” said Buffy, lifting her brows. “Focus.”

He adjusted his glasses, a gesture Scully was beginning to realize was his equivalent of counting to ten and taking a deep breath. “The point is, I’m sure we’ll start making headway soon. I am not giving up on this. On him. None of us are.”

His chastisement hung heavy in the air for a long moment.

“Giles is right.” Willow had known Mulder the longest—they met in a supernatural chat room years ago, and it was her bizarre story about a possibly vampiric serial killer that had brought them here in the first place. Scully wasn’t surprised that the girl was the first to speak, but it warmed her heart just the same. “We’re the freaking Scoobies, guys. And Scoobies never say die.”

“I think that’s Goonies, sweetie.”

“Whatever. The point is, we don’t give up, especially when our friends are in trouble. So buck up, buckers, we gotta make with some head.” She paused, scrunching her face as she heard her own words. “Okay, that sounded kinda gross, but we’re gonna de-vamp that guy if we have to tear through every last one of these books and the whole Watcher library. Twice.”

“Thanks for the enthusiasm, Willow.”

Scully’s heart leapt; she turned and saw Mulder coming through the doorway to the shop, balancing several paper cups of coffee, fast food containers, and a bag of groceries in his arms. She smiled at the sight of him, looking almost normal in his jeans and soft gray t-shirt. He was still too pale, but he seemed to be moving more smoothly since his little… snack. His expression was no longer so pained, his limbs less stiff. He saw her staring and winked, shuffling his feet in a dorky approximation of a dance as if to say S ee, Scully? All good here , and she fought not to roll her eyes.

Spike followed close behind him, similarly burdened, though she saw a few containers bearing the familiar logo of the butcher shop mixed in among the coffee.

“Ooh, Scoobie Snacks!” Xander said, in a passable imitation of the cartoon, rising to help carry the provisions to the table. A happy murmur passed through the room and Scully smiled; nothing like an infusion of sugar and caffeine to reinvigorate an all-night study session.

Scully’s fingers brushed Mulder’s as she took her cup from his hand; they felt slightly warmer. “You seem a little better. Should we upgrade your condition to quarter-dead?”

He smiled as he settled into the chair next to hers, a butcher’s cup cradled in his elbow. “Not quite that far. Maybe a third. Spike took me to…” His voice trailed off, and he looked away with that bashful half-smile that meant he was about to say something she would find, at best, incredulous.

“What, Mulder? Spike took you where?” Her mind spun, despite herself—did they rob a blood bank? Knock over a Red Cross van? Did they go hunting ?

“A vampire cafe.” He laughed, and the fist around her heart loosened. “Next to a slaughterhouse. Not exactly the most glamorous place I’ve ever been, but they can mix up a cow’s blood blend that’s almost approaching palatable.” He nodded towards his cup. “He also showed me a few tricks to make this stuff a little less vile.”

“Cinnamon’s the key,” Spike chimed in, stepping up behind Mulder and clapping him on the back. The liquid in his cup sloshed, along with the contents of Scully’s stomach. “Makes it taste all festive.”

“Yum,” Scully said, and immediately regretted the sarcasm in her voice. “I’m glad it’s helping. You really do look better.”

“How about you guys? Any progress?”

Anyone else might have missed the fragile hope in his eyes, the way he delivered his words with a lack of emphasis that, to her familiar ear, belied the desperation beneath. Seven years together—she could read him like a book.

“You missed a couple of mostly-inspirational speeches and a spirited debate about cinema, but no. We’re still looking.”

He nodded and looked away, the flexing muscle in his jaw the only outward sign of disappointment. Her hand on his brought his eyes back to her face. She stroked her thumb over his knuckles. It said I’m not giving up.

He placed his other hand on top of hers and squeezed. Never.

A/N: Our poor, long-suffering Scully, surrounded by a gaggle of mini-Mulders! I had so much fun writing the Scoobie dialogue. It's strange and exciting combining a show like Buffy, which is renowned for its snappy wordplay, with a show like The X-Files, where so much is unspoken and instead conveyed with touch and eye contact. I hope it didn't give you too much whiplash! As always, comments will be printed, laminated, and put into my Scrapbook of Validation.

#stained #my writing #my fanfic #crossover #txf #the x files #btvs #buffy the vampire slayer #fox mulder #dana scully #buffy summers #willow rosenberg #tara mclay #xander harris #anya jenkins #rupert giles #spike btvs

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