#ignore the same face syndrome I’m working on it

[i-eat-bugs-and-dirt]

Soft launching my art by showing you guys some shitty doodles of my favourite (podcast) blorbos that I drew while in class.

[twalxx]

more requests from ig

[birddcandle]

Empires ZombieCleo!! ClayCleo? Clayeo? Yeah sure

Once again for @shepscapades ‘s Hermitcraft Character Design Event!! Some notes about the design and idea in general under the cut :0

I thought that Cleo would fit the Mezalean Empire very well since it is pretty much canon that Joel made all of his citizens through armour stands or clay, so I figured Cleo could be an armour stand maker/clay sculptor!!

There are also two versions of their design based on two ideas:

Cleo’s regular zombie skin is where she travels to Mezalea by request of the Mezalean King (and maybe some recommendation from a certain blue-haired man), and they are able to use their skills to help create new citizens for Joel

Cleo’s secondary design comes from an idea I had where they are one of the first citizens of Mezalea created by Joel, but since they were one of the first, she is sculpted from various colours found and created from the clay in the mesa

It is also possible that she was sculpted from one colour but they kept cracking, so she or Joel repaired her using different colours they had on hand

They also have green eyes for their regular zombie skin because that is just. Her regular skin, but she has brown eyes for her clay version since she was sculpted by Joel and in his image!! Every citizen sculpted by Joel has brown eyes and probably looks a whole lot like Joel lol

[h4m1lt0ns]

HEARTBREAK SYNDROME.

episode eleven :: “REDBULL FANS”

꒰꒰◌‧₊ ⬪˙⋆ pairing ︴various drivers x y/n

꒰꒰◌‧₊ ⬪˙⋆ genre ︴social media au / irl snippets

꒰꒰◌‧₊ ⬪˙⋆ summary ﹔musical releases resume and so does the drama.

꒰꒰◌‧₊ ⬪˙⋆ face claim ﹔ wonyoung jang (28)

꒰꒰◌‧₊ ⬪˙⋆ warnings ﹕ excessive cussing, none.

ylnestate

♡ liked by lewishamilton, carlossainz55 and 18,450,948 more.

ylnestate U&U no. 44 will be released tonight at midnight. ‘Grandstand Girl’ is the 44th mini album by ﹫y/n and features artists like ﹫theweeknd, ﹫justinbieber, and ﹫champagnepapi. All songs (apart from Trust Issues) were produced and written by Y/n in the past couple months as she’s currently working on her biggest record yet, so stay tuned for that 😉⭐️!

tagged: theweeknd, champagnepapi, justinbieber.

1,492,592 comments.

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username U&U MEANS FULL ALBUM ON THE WAYYYYYY THANK YOU MOTHER 🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽

justinbieber thank you for having me ❤️ love you

username CLAIMING I DONT DO DRUGS

username i’m new here!!! what’s does U&U mean?

→ username u&u stands for undecided and unreleased, y/n usually drops u&u eps right before an album when she has songs that don’t fit the genre/make sense with the rest of the album. they usually consist of 2-6 songs and this one is ep number 44! hope this helped 💗

→ username totally did!!!! thank u bae

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[liked by y/n]

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theweeknd 💙💜

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fernandoalo_oficial slay

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jensonbutton i already knew abt this yet i’m still surprised

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username YES?????

y/n

♡ liked by lewishamilton, oscarpiastri and 11,393,159 more.

y/n SEBASTIAN VETTEL PLEASE COME BACK 💔 adopted another papaya fucker and a williams kid ft. fernando rizzlonso and sir lew 🩷

993,593 comments.

y/l/nestate more kids?

username LEWIS 👊🏽 IS SO 👊🏽 HANDSOME 🗣

→ mercedesamgf1 real

username all this content today i feel like a ten year old at a sephora 😍😍😍

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username lewis graduated from a bank cause that face card can’t decline.

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username FERNANDO RIZZLONSO.

fernandoalo_oficial in slayzuka

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landonorris new brothers unlocked

→ logansargeant hello brother

→ landonorris hello, i hope you know you’re my step brother bc i don’t share y/n 🙏🏼

→ oscarpiastri what about me?

→ landonorris read the terms and conditions, same rules apply to every adopted kid AFTER lando norris 🫶🏻

→ logansargeant ok

→ username PLS

→ username TERMS AND CONDITIONS 😭😭😭

yukitsunoda0511 why does lewis get the good photos

→ y/n he was literally just standing there and he looked good

→ georgerussell63 not fair u always catch the rest of us off guard

→ y/n i caught him off guard too, maybe he’s not the problem 🤭

→ charles_leclerc I’m-

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username casually posts after ep announcement, no one like you, y/n y/l/n.

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→ y/n on our way rn 🏃‍♀️

carlossainz55 you adopted oscar???

→ y/n yeah.

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→ y/n if u have a problem with my son u talk to me 🤨

→ oscarpiastri thanks mum

→ username … is the beef squashed now??

→ username i mean.. i hope

[alatusprinz]

yan! genshin x darling with abandonment issues

characters : xiao , albedo , kaedehara kazuha x f! reader

warning : obsessive behavior, kidnapping, stockholm syndrome, the very stereotypical traits found in yandere lovers, mention of planned/considering murder, manipulation, threatening, etc. reader has abandonment issues, insecurities, and is wary/distrustful about love and romantic partners in general. < fem pronouns used - bride etc >

諸行無常 - 世のすべてのものは、移り変わり、また生まれては消滅する運命を繰��返し、永遠に変わらないものはないということ。

Shogyou mujou - Impermanence. A phrase that means everything in the world repeats its destiny to to be born and to disappear, that there is no existence in the world that remains without changing . 

[ prior scenario ]

“hey…” you called out to your captor, finally working up the courage to talk to him like you would to anyone else. when your voice broke the silence in the sullen room, his gaze was immediately directed at you. 

“what is it?” you gulped at his curt yet obvious reply, still trying to keep your voice from wavering when you continued onto a subject you knew could upset them or worse. you were displeased by how much you were trembling at the thought, even when there was not an ounce of wrath evident in his voice or face as of present.

in truth, it took you however long you imagine to even work out the confidence to demand such inquiry, it could’ve been days, weeks or even more. you couldn’t have known exactly how long- after all, it’s been a paradox in time since the cursed moment you stepped foot into his lair. you reckon it’s been quite a few months in captivity if not a year already. 

“what do you really want from me, keeping me here?” you saw him open his mouth to respond, but you immediately continued without giving him or yourself time. you feared you would lose your will to speak otherwise, despite having repeated the same question in your mind millions of times. 

“so now you have me in this cramped room at all times within your sight. i barely move or talk… i’m almost kept like… a doll here.” you kept your eyes on him for any chances of extreme anger or outburst while resuming. 

“you see, people lose interest. as time passes, your former shiny doll will always lose its gleam and a new doll will catch your eye. when someone learns a song they adore on zither or harp it won’t matter, the song feels less special once you’ve mastered the flow and rhythm so it belongs to you completely- when the song doesn’t have anything new to offer anymore. you could buy anything and make it your possession, but it will always bore you in the end. it’s a matter of time.” his face remained as blank as ever, still listening carefully to your uncharacteristically melancholic statement today. 

“love that comes from mere fascination or ownership… won’t last.” 

so let me go while you still cherish me. before you decide to abandon me like a used toy. you were ashamed to admit your original motivation of asking him to let you go won’t leave your mouth. 

you would rather bite your tongue and die this very instant than admit to him why you were asking this question after all this time. you tried and tried to repress your feelings, the growing feeling inside your chest that is slowly turning into fondness and familiarity instead of sheer disgust and loathe as you should be feeling. it doesn’t make sense- he robbed you of your everything. everything you learned to be a part of your mundane life, every routine and passion you’ve had (you barely even remember what life was before, but you imagine you could’ve had… those things that made you human.) disappeared like dandelion pappus in the wind. you try, you look at his godforsaken actions he veil and glorify as an act of love, you scoff and ignore and fight with all your will not to bend into his desires as easily. but the crawling, sinking realization you were aware from a while ago ate away at what little left from your pride each moment past. 

you couldn’t pretend like everything was normal anymore, not when every inch of your body, every thought surrounding your brain was his love. you knew your true feelings for your captor now. but you couldn’t possibly unravel the truth he oh-so desperately wants- needs to hear. in truth, you felt yourself fall deeper for his wicked charm every day. it made you physically sick but the way he loved you, the way he touched you and caressed your soul, his suffocating care for you felt familiar now, you craved him, you yearned for his impudence in all its glory, the gut wrenchingly familiar scent of his when you awoke from nightmares. you searched for him, you yearned his presence when he wasn’t around and you were positive he knew it. after all, he was the one who trained your body and soul to his perfection- carved your being, to the point you seemed to be the one chasing him at this point in your mind, the only space you have left to you that's private.

it scared you to bits whenever you thought of revealing your feelings. what if he only liked the thrill of your struggles? what if he only wanted the chase? what if he grew tired of you soon now that you’re all boring and “his”? 

this is how your thoughts finally manifested itself into a question, to test the waters. 

he finally responded. 

and it wasn’t at all what you had expected. 

xiao ( alatus) .

“how absurd.” xiao really could not understand the worries of you mortals. he could swear to the seven archons that he tried, he had asked around, he read words on papers you call “books” that seemingly guide you when you’re lost, (worthless if you ask him, since it didn’t guide him when he needed it the most with you),  he’s spent time observing countless mortals just so he could get a grip on how your restless mind works.

it’s like you seem to confuse him more and more as time passes by, and that was quite the opposite of what he desired. 

“what makes you believe you are as worthless as physical objects?” xiao found no reason in mincing his words, your comparison made him offended, if anything. how could you possibly imagine thinking of yourself as the same value of an inanimate object, or even a melody that’s shared between hundreds or thousands at the same time? the idea of you being shared between countless mortals and being another’s “property” left not only a bitter taste in his mouth, but a dangerous, lingering urge to choose destruction.

the general yaksha was no fool to his vow, he was never to harm or terminate mortals, let alone liyue inhabitants. the lord of geo and his contract would not allow. however, a small voice at the back of his voice whispered- he was a guardian yaksha. he was known, a living legend amongst the nationals, surely nobody would dare stand against an Adepti’s desire. after all, mortals were weak and easily manipulated. he could make sure anyone stay away within a minute of a conversation or a… threatening action. and as much as he does not wish to sever his vows to the lord of geo, he certainly held the nonpacifict solution should the circumstances demand. 

but... keeping you here, away from those who would bring you harm protects both you, his angel and his vow to avoid harming mortals, don't they? it was the perfect solution.

he thought he had made it clear by now- that he adored you more than anything, that never once in his painfully long existence he had laid his eyes on anything, anyone more sublime than you. and your benevolence gave him the bliss of peace he desperately needed, he basked in your glory, your warmth on the iciest nights he was cursed to spend in solitude.

you saved him- you were xiao’s everything. if you were not to remain his oasis, what more could his sorry existence serve for? for what purpose would the vigilant yaksha continue his never-ending agony for, if not for your heavenly smile? he had never required, or wanted words of gratitude before, he upheld his vows to perfection, well aware that he was an entity destined to live in the shadows, just so the light could shine brighter. however, neither of you knew that it would lead to… this, the one night that you recognized him as the vigilant yaksha where you coincidentally entwined your red strings of fate on Mt. Hulao. (god knows how or why you had wandered into the space meant for the adepti, you truly had no memory of the life before him at this moment, no matter how you tried to reminisce).

you were all Alatus had, all he has ever wanted. his hands were stained crimson red for eternity, but you, he would bring celestia to ruin, defy every archon’s wrath, shield you in his arms and face the eye of the storm if that’s what you desired. to keep your hands clean, and your soul stainless for he was already tarnished beyond repair. the least he could do was protect you, his one and only, from the dirtiest parts of the world.

one whisper from your tender lips, and he would be gone, swift as the wind for his newest mission, mind filled with your loving smile. 

“i’ve gave you my word, have i not?” xiao continued, hoping for your understanding behind his stone-cold expression you couldn’t have unraveled. 

“...” you remained silent, to his displeasure, he was forced to continue. you and your mortal perplexity. 

“i’ve sworn to protect you. an oath is an oath, (name). i will remain by your side. vows are to be upheld in perpetuity.” xiao’s monotone voice sounded as still as ever despite his rather melancholic words. 

you, on the other hand, weren’t fully convinced. rather, you didn’t allow yourself to be soothed of your worries precisely because of his nonchalant behavior. there was no way he’d stay… this way for eternity. the perpetuity he speaks of will somehow find its end, your mind convinced.

after all… he offered you his protection, his company and his presence. not… not love. he had never once mentioned the word ‘love’ in your presence, or perhaps ever in his couple millenia of existence had he ever even let the heavy word drop from his lips. and you both knew it was perhaps for a good reason. 

to both of your surprise, he finally learns of your worries when you kept your silence with a frown.  

with a subtle sigh, Alatus approached you carefully as he always did, as if not to scare you away. (as if you could outrun the yaksha, as if your mind would even let you at this point.). he sat down next to you on your cold bed, then reached out to place his trembling hand on yours.

you might not know, but that’s the only act of intimacy he’s aware of to you humans. you couldn’t help but stare at his gloved hands on yours, the leather-like material sinking on your skin and leaving a heavy sensation with absolutely no trace of warmth. in fact, you had never felt much heat from his body before if your memory serves. 

except for the warmth you felt right now, listening to his careful words meant to soothe your concerns. it was almost enough to make you forget the absence of sunlight, the last time you had a deep breath of the fresh morning dew from liyue harbor, the sounds of the city locals chatting away in peace. almost enough to make you forget why you were here to begin with. 

“... if my promise isn’t enough… tell me what to do.” you couldn’t mask your surprise when you heard his words. his hand finally relaxed, yet still cold as ever. 

“ephemeral circumstances. perpetual agony. that’s all i have ever known.” xiao couldn’t believe how uncharacteristically chatty you forced him to be. but if his mundane words could soothe your bitter expression, there was nothing he was unwilling to do. 

“諸行無常. - all worldly existences are impermanent.” 

“...but my oath is eternal. i will spend a millenia… an immortal lifetime proving it to you.” 

“just speak my name. i will keep you…” he wanted to say happy, he wanted to promise you a joyful life. he wanted to say he would love you... but he was a cursed being, doomed with the vexation of the millions that were slain by his bloodied hands. 

“i will keep you safe.” he retracted his arm after his final promise to you, and disappeared without a trace. suddenly, the sullen room looked even darker than you remembered. as if the darkness was all you’ve ever known. 

and yet again, the word you desired- no promise of ‘love’ was mentioned. 

albedo ( kreideprinz ) .

“so it makes you insecure.” you flinched at his naturally curt reply, cutting through where it hurts the most. it was such a familiar answer from albedo, analyzing even verbal communication with utmost composure and sharp perception. his teal eyes appeared to be shining in the dimly lit room, ice-cold stare almost pinning you down like on a leash. 

“you’re struggling with feelings of insecurity and it’s manifesting itself into an apprehensive behavior because you feel like i’d get tired of you once the halo effect wears off.” he continued, all while sitting perfectly still, his posture and gaze remaining as absolute and subtly confident as ever. he had almost never been incorrect about his analysis on you, it’s almost eerie. anything he put his mind to and observed, experimented, hypothesized and concluded, it was more or less on point. and this time too, he didn’t fail to notice your ulterior hidden worries. 

the worst part? you were positive he was already well aware of your true feelings behind your distant exterior. after all, he had never been fooled by your acting, never once. he knew you too well to fall for it, and it made you wonder just how long he had observed you before your captivity. 

“it seems accurate and human of you to have such concerns. after all, the vast population of mankind seems to have a taste for unfaithfulness. enough to make others spend the rest of their existence cowering in fear of betrayal.” your eyebrows furrowed at his unwelcome analysis on your mindset, reading your deepest fears like an open book on his worn out wooden alchemy table. 

“but may i remind you, i am not deeply associated with the majority of humanity to begin with, (name). i’d appreciate if you didn’t see me in the same light as the rest.” his stable voice always tricked your sorry mind into believing the atmosphere was normal and calm. but unfortunately, ticking off the kreideprinz was one of the things you noted to never do again. you could thank your gods that he doesn’t seem too irritated from what you could see. 

“humans are an enigma. physical objects and intellectual creations may have its worth hidden in correlation to who possesses them. however, i do believe i don’t… own you.”

the room was immediately silent after his last statement, all you could hear was your heart thumping loudly in your ear, head feeling heavier on your shoulders each second that passed by. he thinks he doesn’t own you? that was the last phrase you thought you would hear from him. 

“of course i’d like to own your heart, that’s what lovers are.” what we are - both of you knew that was his true intention behind his somewhat vague wording. “is that what you wish to hear from me, dear? that i love you.” his monotone declaration of “love” sent a wave of warmth, and cowering fear to the pit of your stomach. for one, it certainly was what you desperately craved to hear from the chalk prince. you were so, so close to giving into his sweet temptation, his reserved nature, his teal eyes that seem to only look at you, and his cold, yet addictive touch of hands, caressing you like you were the only existence that he cared about.

yet, his cold tone when he confessed the words of love weighed heavy at the back of your mind, how monotone, and… void he sounded. do people usually sound so laid back when speaking such words? you couldn’t know, you couldn’t remember. but you had a feeling it wasn’t quite the case, that he sounded too empty, his promise sounded heavy, yet desolate at the same time. that your heart felt too burdened from his love, not blissful. but if that were the case, albedo was prepared to mold your tastes until you preferred his weighty love, bitter and cold on your tongue. he'd make sure to train you until all you ever crave is his taste.

“... i love you as much as an artificial being could mimic the humane emotion of love, dearest.” he concluded the conversation coolly and with dignity like he always did, he always got the last word. after all, what he wants goes. 

if you happen to disobey… well, let’s just say he was good at getting what he wanted. should he use honey-sweet words, alluring you in, threats, slight or considerable amount of pain and punishment, or make you face a situated scenario that would inevitably push you towards him…

in the end, albedo would have you. - that’s what he had concluded. after all, once again - what he wants, goes. 

kaedehara kazuha .

the menacing, yet melodic giggle he responded with sharpened your senses. you never knew what to expect from him, he could easily shatter your soul and courage with one look of his eyes if that was what his mockingly poetic love demanded of him. 

“love, you never cease to amaze me.” as expected of the bride, the distinguished lady of the great kaedehara clan he intended to continue. every step you take, every sway of your hair in the end, the rounin felt himself fall deeper for your charm, his one and only perfect love. you were absolutely perfect, you had to be. (you were his, after all.)

he approached you with an intimidatingly slow pace, placed his hand on the top of your head with seemingly great delicacy. the weight of his hand on your head seemed like it was pushing you down, further until you were at his feet- at his complete and eternal mercy. in one way, it was the perfect place for you, his docile loving darling. it should come natural for lovers to please and make one another happy. it should come as easy as breathing to both you and him, after all, he himself was at your feet. why shouldn’t you share the same sentiment, the same desire? he would lay down his life, lay down his everything and more. that’s what love is, existing in this cruel world in the name of your lover. 

at least according to what he carved in your mind which you’ve soon learned to accept. 

“have i ever once, made you feel unloved or unworthy?...” his hand travelled down, slowly and gently caressing the back of your head, the side of your neck, and lingered at the same spot while feeling your beating heart. (the heart that beats for him - the sinister thought brought a pleased smile to his lips. ) the silent confidence in his statement sent shivers down your spine. of course he was aware, he had never once denied you of your needs, everything except your freedom was in the palm of your hands. with one whisper of your voice, kazuha would carve out his heart, display it on a platter. he would sacrifice his last breath to caress your lips one last time, excarnate his own being and wrap his warm skin around your shivering body if you were cold. going to extreme length to keep you, his angel dove by his side, is an absolute necessity for him. 

and the ugly truth was, he expected the exact same from you. 

“have i ever left you unsatisfied?” he continued, placing his hands around your neck, not squeezing, but with just enough force of grip for your entire body to tense up in fight-or-flight instinct. too bad neither was an option. 

“like i said, you might get bored-” to your surprise, your speech was interrupted. 

“boredom is not something associated with true love, my dearest. i can promise you that.” his stable and calm voice never once wavered, and said to you with utmost certainty, almost to the point you allowed yourself to believe the honey-sweet temptation of love he presented you with. 

“and if my verbal promise does not suffice…” finally, he wrapped his arms around you, and buried his face into your neck. with a sigh of happiness leaving his lips, he let out a low giggle near your ear. 

“i’ll prove it until the rest of my life, until you believe in my love.”

until you believe me - he whispered, placing a sickeningly tender kiss on your neck. the sensation of his alluring kiss lingered on your shivering skin, your mind left blank and tempted. after all, kazuha’ forte was words. he could spin you around like a marionette, should he want. 

and that’s what he intended to do. keep, worship and adore his beloved doll, lover for all eternity. 

.

[woso-fan13]

Sicktember 2023: 9

White Coat Syndrome

“Y/L/N,” Dawn shouts across the locker room, “my office, now.”

“Oooh,” your teammates say sing-songily together, “Y/N’s in trouble.”

It’s like you're instantly transported back to primary school, the principal calling your name over the loudspeaker. Without a doubt, your peers would tease in the exact same way. The only real difference is that your teammates are adults and should definitely know better than second graders. The punishment would almost definitely be the same too- missing out on recess is pretty much the same as missing practices and games. 

With a hot blush across your cheeks, you quickly head to Dawn’s office. You knew better than to keep her waiting. You knock lightly, waiting for a response before you enter. 

“Hey, Dawn, how are you? You look great, you’re absolutely glowing. Are you using a new skincare routine, you’ll have to tell me your sec-“

Dawn cuts you off by clearing her throat. 

“Hello, Y/N, it’s been awhile since we’ve had some good one-on-one bonding. I was thinking we could play a game,” Dawn says, surprisingly meeting your energy and excitement. 

“Ummm,” you hesitate, confused, before sitting down and nodding, “okay, yeah! It’ll be fun! Which one do you think?”

“How about 20 questions? It’s one of my favorites.”

You know Dawn must have an ulterior motive, but you can’t figure it out.  

“I know that one, I’ll start. Dawn, what’s your favorite color?”

“I like light blue. Y/N, who was your soccer idol growing up?”

“Oh, that’s easy: Mia Hamm. If you played on the team, what position would you play?”

“Probably goalie, less risk of an ACL injury. How about this, if you could be any member of the staff, who would you be?”

“Coach, I love all of the tactics behind it. Oh, it’s hard to think of questions. Umm, what’s your favorite drink?”

“Water,” she answers bluntly, “do you think I’m an idiot?”

“What?” you respond, about to continue when she interrupts. 

“Y/N, you’re supposed to answer the question before you ask one. So, again, do you think I’m an idiot?”

“No, no of course not. What are you talking about?”

“Well, I’m not sure if you remember, but you missed camp two months ago because you had covid. And you missed camp last month because you developed asthma from covid and you had to go to the emergency room multiple times. So, my next question, did you think I would forget that you’re required to have a full work up from a pulmonologist before you’re allowed to train or were you simply hoping to avoid me?”

You freeze, eyes wide. You knew that you were supposed to see the doctor, but the doctor scared you. The only reason that you had even gone to the emergency rooms those times was because you couldn’t breathe and one of your teammates had to drag your blue-lipped form in. 

So you put off the appointment, hoping that everyone would ignore your lack of medical approval if you played really well. Besides, you had brought the emergency inhaler that you had gotten at your most recent emergency visit, so you would be fine. 

Dawn sighs, “go get your bag, you’ve got an appointment in 30 minutes. If you get the all-clear, you can practice tomorrow.”

You know better than to protest, going to grab all of your things. You stop for a moment and watch your teammates warming up, jealousy filling your body. 

You walk back towards Dawn’s office, expecting her to pass off car keys and directions. Instead, you find her standing with her bag, keys in hand. 

“Are you ready to go?” She asks. 

“You’re coming with me?” You question, “I thought you would have to stay for practice.”

“I thought you would like the company, but I could be wrong. I guess I’ll go back to practice and you can go alone.”

It was almost comical the way your face instantly paled, the blood draining. Your hand reached out automatically, trying to stop her from leaving. 

“Please, no” you say quietly. 

“Alright, come on then. We have to go.”

You quickly follow Dawn as she begins heading towards the exit, afraid that you would be left alone. You couldn’t decide which was a worse option- having to go to the doctor alone or never being able to play soccer again. 

[britcision]

Alright, friendos! Happy Hanukkah, happy Yule, merry Christmas, happy Kwanza, and happy holidays to anyone I forgot who is still celebrating or gets to start soon!

This chapter is dedicated to all our brave souls who have just made their way through finals! You made it, you’re free, and you deserve a heckin’ break

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

Previous chapter:

First chapter:

—————————

A Swell Night On The Town

Jason had been pretty sure he knew what to expect from Vlad Masters. The Plasmius file had stood out even amongst all the other ghosts, and not just for being a halfa.

The guy was a stalker, a creep, manipulative as hell, and would not take no for an answer. And no, he didn’t need a second grabby billionaire anywhere near his life, thanks.

He’d dealt with dozens just like him, rich assholes who thought their wealth and power made them untouchable.

And the man himself, standing in front of him? Yeah, okay, Jason was a little surprised.

Vlad’s face had this perfect fist shape to it, like his cheekbones were gonna wave Jason in to break his teeth.

Wild how that worked.

Offering to share Danny’s baby pictures was… an unexpected avenue of attack, honestly. Fucking effective though, and it had somehow defused the situation.

He’d still rather drag the man out by the scruff of his neck, but the apparent peace offering settled something inside him. Well, more directly Danny’s reaction to it.

Danny wasn’t scared of Vlad. Whatever he was, whatever he’d done? However much he’d hurt Danny in the past, used his death against him?

It hadn’t been fear setting Danny off when he knew Vlad was here. Which raised the question of what it had been, but he could always ask later.

For now, Vlad wasn’t an immediate threat to be eliminated, at least not yet. Today, they could play with him a little.

And if that changed? He was ready.

So Jason let his face soften into a smile as Danny groaned, damn near as dramatic as Dick. Let Vlad think he might be tempted.

And maybe just a little enjoy the revenge after all that bugging about the pixie boot photos earlier.

He reached out automatically to steady Danny as he swayed, leaving his hand on his shoulder. And watched Vlad track the gesture, which was… interesting.

Yeah, they could probably get him on the same game as the Manson’s. Jason let his arm slip around the slighter man’s shoulders, skimming gently down his arm.

Danny leaned into him just a little and if that made the pit happy, well, convenient bonus. Most of his attention stayed fixed on Vlad.

“I guess you’ve known each other a long time?” He offered, trying to keep his voice more neutral.

Danny sighed dramatically, folding his arms and glaring.

“Well it sure fucking feels like forever,” he grumbled loudly and Jason grinned, ruffling his hair.

“Not so long as I’d like,” Vlad argued with a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “I’m afraid even though I have always been his godfather we did not meet until he joined the club as it were. Had we met sooner I might have made a better impression.”

Sam snorted most of a laugh derisively through her nose, cocking her hip and smirking at him.

“Would you have given a fuck before he joined the club?” She asked sarcastically, perfectly matching his dramatic emphasis.

Vlad shot her another scathing look, then gave Jason an obsequious smile.

“Of course, I don’t have anything on me, but if you would like to come by some time…” he began, and Danny straightened so fast that something in Jason lurched to pull him back.

He resisted. Barely.

“Hell no Vlad, fuck off. You’re not having Jason over to your creepy ass castle in Wisconsin,” Danny snapped, his eyes flashing green and Jason had a revelation.

That? That was a truly fucking weird thing to see. Even if it hadn’t always been the trigger for violence, yeah, he could see why his family flinched.

Also? Danny getting possessive? Adorable.

Vlad certainly seemed to agree (which made Jason immediately want to change his mind), giving Danny a smug smile.

“Jason is an adult, Daniel, as you are yourself. I believe he can make up his own mind?” He purred, gaze flicking expectantly back to Jason.

It was a good thing he’d been practicing one of his best gala smiles half the month for this occasion. He’d never been more thankful for the training that let him keep it light and sweet.

“I’m not coming to your creepy ass castle in Wisconsin,” he agreed with Danny, loving the way Vlad’s face fell.

Impatient bastard. Like Jason hadn’t proved extremely early on which side of this line he was coming down on. Although…

“But maybe you can email me.”

Keep him sweet. Keep him hopeful. All the better to fully fuck around with later, and maybe give himself a backdoor into any plans.

Danny grinned smugly back at Vlad, folding his arms and leaning into Jason in a way that was definitely all out possessive. Which Jason could kinda get.

The new kid at school liked Danny best. Hell, Jason was always smug as fuck when one of the birds sided with him over B.

“Aww, I guess even your best impression wasn’t up for much, huh Vladdie?” Danny teased and Vlad’s eyes narrowed, before his smile flashed back, sharp and venomous.

“I shall certainly send you some pictures at my earliest convenience, Jason. Do you have a card?” He asked sweetly, looking from Danny directly up to Jason’s face.

Jason stifled a snicker.

“It’s not the eighties. Gimme your phone, I’ll add you.” He held out a hand, half expecting Vlad to refuse.

Surely he didn’t make his money and build his evil empire by being stupid. But no, Vlad gave him a calculating look and then handed the device right over.

Didn’t even try and look at the screen. And, well, Jason was a Robin once. Even Danny grabbing for the phone didn’t stop him, raising it above his reach.

Type his email with thumb swipes so it took half the time, turn on bluetooth, pair to Tim’s phone, get the ping for the downloaded app, bluetooth off and he handed the phone back to Masters, back on the contact screen.

“Here. That’s my private email, so don’t go giving it out to all and sundry,” he added as Danny tried to flap the phone from his hand.

“Aw come on Jason! You can’t give him that, he’s evil!” Danny whined, and Jason put his free hand directly in Danny’s face and pushed him away like he’d do Dick.

“You wanted to talk to Selina, you filthy fucking hypocrite.”

“Who wanted to talk to me?”

And speak of the devil, here she was, slinking towards them in one of her tight black dresses, short hair cupping her face.

Vlad shifted to let her join them, making a face when she stepped too close and stepping quickly away.

Jason closed his lips on a grin. Hope he didn’t have anything too precious in those pockets. Luckily his phone was still in hand, now tucked into a different pocket.

“I did,” Sam said loudly before anyone could interrupt, turning and bestowing her sweetest Manson Party Smile on her. “I heard you have baby photos of Jason.”

Selina raised an eyebrow as Jason made a half hearted grab for Sam, cocking her hip and smirking at him.

“Why darling, I most certainly do. And you are?” She asked, gaze darting around the group.

Sam stuck out her hand to shake.

“Sam Manson. This is my date, Danny Fenton, and my… friend, Jason Todd,” she introduced, jerking her thumb at the boys in turn.

Vlad cleared his throat, and promptly regretted it when Sam smirked.

“Oh, and this asshole is Vladdie.”

Vlad shot a glower at her while Danny and Jason snickered, turning to offer Selina his own hand.

“Vlad Masters, Daniel’s godfather.”

Selina took his hand delicately, a sharp smile on her face as she shook.

“Oh, so you’re the one who’s been snatching at the little Waynes! Have you come to make a grab for Jason?” She asked with a barely hidden glee, and alright, maybe she could stay.

Vlad’s poleaxed expression would make up for a lot, then he snapped too and snatched his hand away.

“I most certainly… oh… well. I. Suppose there was one incident, but I’d hardly call it grabbing,” he admitted with ill grace, smoothing down the front of his suit.

Selina’s smile spread and she pointed discretely towards the refreshment tables.

“Oh? Poor Tim has had to get an ice pack I hear, and someone said that you were behind Dick’s sudden disappearance. I’ll have to warn you that the last one left is Damian and he has a reputation of his own,” she purred.

Vlad’s brows furrowed into a deep frown, clearly not sure how to handle this situation. Being the focus of the gossip was apparently a change for him.

Jason was almost jealous, but the sheer joy of watching Selina at work washed it away. Not being the focus of all the gossip was a fun change for him.

“Damian Wayne?” Vlad asked, glancing back at Jason. Like Jason was about to help.

“He bites,” Jason explained casually and Danny fucking cackled, falling forward into Sam.

“Oh… oh Vlad… Vlad please… go bother Damian,” Danny gasped as Sam caught him, and Sam smirked.

“Would you turn down your Wayne scholarship?” Sam asked wickedly and Vlad’s head snapped around so fast he must have cricked his neck.

“Your what?” He asked sharply as Danny sucked in great lungfuls of air, finally straightening.

He was in no fit state to answer so Sam took over, smirking at Vlad.

“Oh, part of why Danny came is because he won a Wayne scholarship,” she said with a smug confidence Jason had to admire.

And join in on, since it was upsetting Vlad so much.

“Yeah, Brucie just loves to provide for underprivileged youth. It’s how we got my newest brother Duke,” he explained with an offhanded shrug, and oooooh he could almost see steam flying from Vlad’s ears.

His glare snapped back to Danny himself, who was just barely recovering.

“Then I suppose it’s a good thing I was here to defend your good name to Brucie,” Vlad spat the words like they tasted bad and that sent Danny off again.

“Aww, Vladdie, you do care,” he giggled, pulling himself back up and wiping at his eyes.

Vlad’s expression contrived to somehow become even more constipated. He turned deliberately back to Selina, his smile decidedly pinched now.

“And you know the Waynes well, I presume?” He asked, doing his best to pretend none of the younger three were grinning at him.

Selina cocked a brow, clearly clocking the interaction and filing it for later, a slow smile curling her lips that Jason fucking recognised.

“Oh, I know Brucie quite well,” she purred, one hand coming up to cup her elbow while she toyed with her hair, “I couldn’t paw-sibly miss the chance to greet Jason.”

Which, honestly, Jason considered mild for her. Vlad’s brows furrowed in confusion this time and Sam covered her mouth with her hand.

Selina tipped Jason a wink and he rolled his eyes good naturedly.

“Couldn’t miss the chance to fuck with Bruce, more like?” He asked dryly.

It wasn’t that he specifically didn’t want her there. Fuck, anything keeping Bruce off his ass was a win.

It was more that putting her next to Danny was probably an incredibly bad idea. His eyes had lit up - thankfully not green - and he grinned back at her.

“Well it is the purr-fect opportunity,” he said gleefully and Sam groaned.

“So this is how I die. Fantastic,” she snarked as Selina’s smile spread and she turned to face Danny more directly.

“But of course, anything fur family,” she agreed genially.

Vlad was beginning to look annoyed too, and Jason decided that was enough to tip him over into enjoying it. Not joining in; he wasn’t Dick.

Fuck.

Dick was here.

Biting down the urge to look around, Jason took a deep breath. Dick was probably still in the back. Probably still having hysterics.

What had Vlad even said to him?

Whatever it was, Jason might owe him a thank you for getting Dick out of the way of this particular meeting. All three at once would be…

Yeah, no, creepy castle in Wisconsin won if only because Jason had fucking always wanted to cause mayhem in an actual castle. Wayne Manor was fine, but an actual castle?

It might have battlements. It definitely had a ghost and a half.

Danny and Selina were clearly having fun, going back and forth with increasingly over reaching cat puns.

Jason took advantage of the moment to casually reach behind Danny and entwine his hand with Sam’s. She started a little, glanced over, and made a show of almost-but-not-quite pulling away.

Keep the show going. Apparently they were competing with Vlad for the spot of Top Scandal, which was just fucking great. No matter who won, they couldn’t lose.

Selina must have noticed though, because she gave him a sly look and gently broke things off with Danny.

“Not to pussyfoot away, but I do need to steal Jason for just a moment darlings. Old family friends and all that,” she added, tipping Danny a wink as he chuckled.

Jason gave her a wary look for a moment, then followed her a short distance away. Staying far enough back to be out of pickpocket range.

“What did you do?” He asked quietly once they were out of earshot, pausing at another potted plant. Appeasing Ivy, or a subtle invitation.

Selina gave him her most innocent smile, leaning up against the pot.

“I may have upset Bruce a little, and now he’s looking for you. He was going to the back rooms first but that shouldn’t take him long.”

Jason remembered watching Cass drag a wailing Dick to the back rooms.

“He might take longer than expected,” he noted with a half smirk, then shook his head. “So why’s he looking for me?”

He couldn’t think of anything Selina might do that would have Bruce hunting him down; usually the response to Selina turning up was to usher the kids away.

No matter how old those kids were.

Not that any of them actually wanted to stick around, just. It was dismissive at best.

Selina smiled fondly and patted his cheek, and for once the emotion seemed genuine.

“Jason, darling, no man likes to think their little boys have grown up. And of course I assumed that if you were making this much of a scandal this early on it was intentional, so I told him you had an orgy in the back rooms,” she finished bluntly, shattering the soft moment Jason didn’t know how to handle.

Rather than stammering or shutting down over emotions he wasn’t sure he could face, a startled laugh shot down his nose.

“You fucking what?!”

“I told him that when you five snuck off for your little chat earlier you’d been caught with your pants down,” Selina explained casually, an entirely catlike smile of satisfaction on her face.

And yeah, okay, maybe Jason was reminded why he liked Selina. For all the distance between them, she’d never stopped treating him as Robin.

She and Bruce might be on again off again, but she’d always be a cool stepmom to the birds. And she could be relied on to join a good joke…

Leaning in, Jason lowered his voice.

“You’re absolutely right, targets are the Manson parents, Bruce, and Vlad. Do you need to be filled in?” It had been a while since he’d done a speed debrief, but at least Selina had received a few.

And recreationally hung out with Harley Quinn. Her eyes sparkling with mirth, she shook her head.

“Oh not at all, darling. You know I pre-fur a surprise. Is the young Miss Manson in on it?” She asked, gaze sliding back across to the others.

Jason snickered, letting his eyes follow hers. Vlad seemed to have swanned off somewhere, and Danny was vainly “trying” to recapture Sam’s attention.

“Sam called the hit. They insist she has to find an eligible bachelor, so she’s got two,” he added, and Selina’s smile took on a decidedly nasty edge.

“Well then you’d best get back there and woo her, hadn’t you?” She cooed, long fingers gently patting Jason’s cheek again as she straightened to slink back into the party. “I’ll tell Bruce you’re at the refreshments.”

Jason hurried back to Sam and Danny, not exactly keeping his head low, but folding himself in a little. Hanging out with Superman and Clark Kent taught a guy a few tricks.

Catching his companions by an arm each, he leaned in to whisper,

“Selina told Bruce we’ve been having an orgy in the back rooms, she’s gonna be running interference and get him to the refreshments,” he explained quietly.

Sam snickered and shook her head, tugging her arm from his grip but allowing him to take her hand instead.

“So is she in on it?” She asked quietly, sharp eyes glancing around the party. Jason shrugged.

“I didn’t tell her much, but she’s always down to cause trouble of one sort or another. Wanna look for your parents and be conspicuous?” He asked Sam, grinning.

A grin spread across Sam’s face too and she nodded, giving him a nudge with her shoulder.

“Your family is fucking ridiculous, Jay.”

Which wasn’t news, but it was nice when other people noticed.

“We’re not really the ones to talk,” Danny pointed out with a grin of his own, coming around to take Sam’s other hand, “dare you to trip me in front of the Mansons, Jason.”

And if there was one thing Jason had gotten in trouble for all through his life… he could never resist a dare.

**

When did everything go so wrong?

It had been such a lovely evening, and yet out of nowhere, everything had turned on its head.

People were whispering about him, as they usually did, but now it was with giggles! Mockery hidden behind a hand, a glass, some ridiculous fan.

They tittered as he passed, closed their circles and turned their backs, or even moved away from him! He found himself suddenly alone, a room full of people exquisitely aware of his presence and avoiding it.

As if he were somehow beneath them. As if they had any sort of high horse to hold over him. And all for what? A mild misunderstanding?

It was something he’d always noticed about Gothamites, when he’d met them away from this dingy city. The way they considered themselves superior, above the rest for being a bloated parasite class in a jumped up hellhole.

Talking as if they personally were made stronger by all of those rogues, the darkness, the gothic nonsense. As if their city would protect them when even their Bat sought to bring them down.

Corrupt, stinking, filthy wretches. It was why it had never bothered him to avoid the den itself.

Oh, there was abundant ectoplasm, the misery and terror of millions saturating the air to almost Amity Park standards. So many people, crammed together, living in fear every day of their lives.

It made their hope powerful, those who lived at street level. Those who actually faced the city’s dangers. But these inept plutocrats? Cushioned with wealth and corruption and casual evil?

Their city hated them almost as much as Vlad. Would be happy to see them and their pathetic little Court fall. Maybe then the place could finally breathe.

They should count themselves lucky Vlad was above sinking to their level. Restrained himself to icy smiles and remembered faces, adding to his list of those to exploit.

Perhaps that would make Daniel happy; he and that goth girl were so in favour of the working class. A little redistribution of wealth (and some to himself) could be a nice gift.

Of course, if he actually thought about it, Vlad had a pretty solid guess of when the night had left the rails. He never should have grabbed the young Drake, thinking he was Daniel or not.

Frankly grabbing Daniel had been one of the habits he was intent on breaking, but it had just… happened. Force of habit was an irritatingly powerful thing.

They had always had a very physical relationship, and wasn’t that part of the problem? Vlad had never intended that.

It was just that the boy didn’t listen. Wouldn’t see what was good for him, no matter how clearly it was shoved in front of his face. He was independent, wilful, and while those were good traits…

Daniel also insisted on using them against him. Against himself. And Vlad… well, Vlad knew he had a temper. And frankly, so did Daniel.

They butted heads and with their shared abilities, sometimes that got explosive. But those same abilities were how Vlad knew that no matter how much they fought, they would be pulled back together.

And now there was a new halfa. For a supposedly rare occurrence, it was really becoming increasingly common.

Perhaps that was worth testing too. If something about the modern world made it easier to create a new halfa.

Not that young Jason was quite finished yet, he wasn’t a fully formed ghost, but Vlad could already taste the power in the air around the boy.

Not being alone had been all he’d wanted for so long.

And, apparently, something Daniel had been craving in an entirely different way. The air between the boys had been charged with more than just Daniel’s little flare of power.

Vlad wasn’t quite sure where the need to mention Daniel’s photos had come from; he’d never planned to let the boy know he had them.

It had been an idle curiosity, years ago now, and they’d never come to fruition. But seeing Daniel so obviously interested in young Jason…

Vlad was sure he’d looked at Madeline like that all the time, back at school. And far more lucky than he, Jason seemed to return the interest.

Daniel moving to protect Jason, put himself between them, had been expected. It was his nature, dear boy, and as foolish as it could be he stuck to it.

Jason refusing to allow it, moving Daniel behind himself? Surprising, and entertaining. If not for himself, he’d have thought those protective urges helped to form a halfa.

And, of course, it was rather telling.

Whatever Daniel had told him that made Jason see Vlad as a threat, Jason saw him as a threat to Daniel, not himself. That could be useful too.

Vlad would rather be a threat to neither of them if they’d just learn to listen. All he offered was a gift, and all he asked was to not have it tossed aside.

All he wanted was a family. And while he certainly wasn’t yet as desperate as Brucie Wayne, adopting any child he found on a street corner… perhaps the other man did have something to teach him.

With any luck they would still be able to have their private meeting. Vlad could only hope that the impression he’d managed to make would be enough.

The man doted on his sons, and Vlad involved in upsetting two of them? No, he would have to tread very carefully here.

Some form of apology. Not tonight, not while the issues were still… fresh. He would have to steer clear of the Waynes for the rest of the evening.

And think of some suitable way to show his contrition.

The younger boy was interested in technology, wasn’t he? His interest in Tucker would be explained there. And Vlad had plenty of technology beyond the power of science alone.

Yes, some form of gift for Timothy. Nothing too closely related to ghosts, but that was only a brief limit.

And perhaps it would be a way to soothe Jason too. For him to see that Vlad was sincere, that he did not intend to be a threat.

Why, maybe even something to protect the boy. A personal shield, perhaps. That should please such a protective soul.

Richard would be harder. Perhaps Vlad should have avoided the topic altogether, but he hadn’t realised the boys had been close.

By all accounts Grayson had precious little to do with Brucie around the time of Jason’s adoption, and while there was never any negative publicity, they rarely appeared together.

Not the way Grayson could now be seen fawning over all of his other siblings, draping himself over them and teasing whenever possible.

Perhaps Jason’s death had been a catalyst for him.

Not that it mattered. Even if the young man’s hysterics had been at least partially overblown (it certainly hadn’t followed through to Vlad’s enhanced senses), the message was clear.

And he’d gotten the answers he needed anyway.

Perhaps something equally overblown in return, Vlad mused with a slight smile, ignoring the other guests flowing around him.

Flowers wouldn’t please most young men, but the goal wasn’t actually to please Richard. He might appreciate a dramatic gesture in return.

And the man was a police officer of some sort. Something for his station.

Yes, no need for the evening to be a total loss. There would be the meeting with Bruce, and perhaps he could even persuade the man that he wished for his help to make amends.

As frustrating as this little setback was… this was still his day.

**

Tucker had absolutely no idea why Sam always complained about these parties, because he was having the best night of his life.

He’d met Tim Drake-Wayne! Actually hung out with Tim Drake-Wayne! WAS STILL hanging out with Tim Drake-Wayne!

And he got to piss off Vlad, eat fancy food, make his mom cry with pics of him in his fancy suit… Yeah, it was the best day ever.

Tim had taken his jacket off a little while ago after they’d bumped into Vlad, and while they’d joked about rigging him a sling for the rest of the night, it’d be taking the bit a little far.

It had also given them an excuse to hang out away from the crowd for a while and just talk tech while Tucker iced the “wounded” shoulder.

As expected, Tim Drake-Wayne was beyond brilliant. Most CEOs had no idea what the departments who actually worked for a living did, but Tim?

Tim knew about every single project going on in R&D. He knew what all of them were doing, and he seemed impressed that Tucker kept up with as much of their testing as was made public.

Remembering which bits still weren’t technically public yet was a little trickier, but he didn’t want to make a bad impression.

Hiring the hacker who broke your system was a movie bit, not real life. But, Tucker did hope that if he could impress Tim tonight, he’d at least remember Tucker’s name when the job faires started.

If Danny and Jason hooked up, maybe he and Tim would get to hang out at other events in future.

Because yeah, Tucker dug the new halfa. He did. Jason was funny, cool, pretty considerate, and just immediately down for Team Phantom’s fuckery in a way few people were.

Hell, he’d gotten Tucker a party ticket at pretty near the last second for Tucker to have this, the best night of his life. Tucker loved the guy, for all he’d known him for about a weekend.

But.

He did suffer from not being Tim Drake-Wayne. Like a lot.

It was probably something he heard way too often though, so Tucker was never gonna mention it.

Cuz yeah, Jason might be entry number four in a species that no one had thought was possible, but like.

Tim Drake-Wayne.

It just wasn’t a fair contest.

Tucker hadn’t clicked with anyone this fast since the day he met Danny in first grade too. He’d known Tim Drake-Wayne would be brilliant, obviously.

The guy was the next best thing to Batman himself, and was even mentioned occasionally in some of the Oracle-spotting groups Tucker frequented.

(Not that he could be Oracle, of course. While Tucker would put money on Oracle being in Gotham, Tim had way too much public presence.

He had a busy, often public job, but Tucker was just dying to ask if he’d ever done custom work for Oracle themself. Not on first meetings, though.

Had to find out if the guy was In The Know or not first. There were some theories that he was good enough to be a Robin, but Tucker didn’t really follow Gotham’s vigilantes.

More likely they just bought - or were given - Wayne tech and talked to the Oracle themselves.)

But really, Tucker hadn’t expected Tim to be so funny. He reminded Tucker of Danny in that way, always ready with a quip or a one liner.

They cracked each other up, and even now that they were back recirculating Tucker barely noticed who Tim was introducing him to.

All rich folks, the Mansons’ level or higher, most old enough to be their parents if not their grandparents. All making boring, prim and proper conversation.

The room might as well have been empty of everyone but Tucker and Tim. He didn’t even bother keeping an eye on Vlad, though he and Tim had exchanged grins as they watched the slowly expanding circle now following the man wherever he went.

Vlad was Danny’s problem. Tonight, all Tucker cared about was spending time with one of his own personal heroes.

Right up until he opened his mouth and fucked it up.

“Yeah, I was gonna stay at MIT over the holidays, there were some cool experimental tech meet ups planned? But I’m glad I wound up going home. It would have sucked to miss this!”

Tim stared at him for a moment, then actually laughed, which kinda surprised Tucker a bit. He hadn’t been joking?

And Tim clearly saw his confusion, patting Tucker companionably on the back.

“Sorry man, it’s just… you’ve gotta be the only person I know who doesn’t hate these things with a passion,” he explained, still grinning fondly.

Tucker cocked his head, frowning thoughtfully.

“What? Why not? The food’s great, dressing up fancy is fine once in a while, and the company…” he trailed off, cheeks heating just a little as he considered how to end the sentence.

He didn’t wanna wind up sounding like Danny. That would be way too embarrassing.

Luckily Tim didn’t seem to mind, grinning and giving him a cheeky nudge. Hopefully he wouldn’t notice the blush so much on Tucker’s cheeks.

“Oh trust me, this is definitely the best gala I’ve ever been to too. I’ve never had half this much fun before, cuz the company is usually waaaay more…” he waved his hand, gesturing to the small chatting groups they were wandering past.

All older, stuffy, boring… yeah. Fair.

Tucker grinned slyly at the other man.

“Well I’m glad I could liven up your evening, but Jason already told us you’re here to scout out Danny,” he teased, and Tim laughed again.

“Yeah, that probably woulda made top five anyway,” he agreed easily, “but you shoulda seen Damian’s first party. Demon brat was still half feral, he challenged a guy to a duel for calling him the “little Wayne”.”

Tucker laughed as well, glancing around the hall just in case the littlest Wayne should appear. No such luck.

“I can’t say I’m surprised,” he agreed with a broad grin, “he seemed a little short tempered.”

Tim nodded cheerfully.

“Oh he’d take your fingers off if Brucie hadn’t convinced him it was undignified to bite. His mom was one of those… what you’d call old fashioned. Very big on family honour and defending it at all costs.”

Tucker whistled long and low, shaking his head.

“Yeah, can’t say I’ve seen much of that… not as much as Danny, but you met Vlad,” he added with a snicker and Tim chuckled and bumped his shoulder.

“Yeah, well. I’m still glad you came. Do your family live near by or did you have to fly in?” Tim asked cheerfully and Tucker laughed.

“Nah, neither, Danny picked me up.” And then Tucker froze.

Right.

Yeah.

Cuz you couldn’t just say “my friend the Ghost King came and picked me up, we portalled through his private dimension”.

Not to a stranger.

Tim looked momentarily confused. As one should, when someone made no fucking sense.

“Danny? Does he fly?” He asked, and Tucker hid a sigh of relief under a huff of laughter.

“Well I’m not really supposed to say,” he whispered, leaning in close so as not to be overheard, “but let’s just say not officially?”

**

Team Phantom Group Chat

‘TechMasterF: so for all future interactions Danny you have an illegal pilots license. Can the GAV do a plane?’

‘TechMasterF: doesn’t matter I’ll say it can’

**

Jason had not been in the back rooms.

There also hadn’t been the kind of scuffing that would indicate… activities from a group of more than two people, but that didn’t put Bruce’s mind at ease.

There were plenty of ways to hide such things, and he had endlessly drilled his boys in being discrete.

If only he’d done a worse job.

Prowling around the party, he kept his genial smile on as a matter of course, chatting as he passed but never stopping. He had to find his son.

He’d run into Dick on his way out of the back hall, half burying poor Cass in his loud sobbing. Seeing an opportunity, Bruce had pulled both aside for a quick debrief.

Apparently Masters had run into them as well, and had actually dared to ask the question he’d heard circling the room all evening.

Jason’s funeral.

No one else was going to, thanks to Dick’s antics.

It didn’t make Bruce feel any better, since neither of them seemed to have noticed whatever Tim had seen. Both had seen Jason, still with the youngest Manson and this suspicious Danny.

Bruce hadn’t waited beyond that, though he trusted Dick’s quick warning that Masters had a bad reputation. One that Bruce had heard too; his business dealings were notoriously predatory.

Whatever leverage he held over former partners, Bruce wouldn’t allow him to get it over his family.

However the man was also known to be a brilliant scientist and engineer, and clearly had an interest in Wayne Enterprises. Bruce could take advantage of that to gather information on Danny.

Finally, finally he spotted the familiar white flash of Jason’s hair in the middle of the floor. He was accompanied by Sam and a scrungly young man with dark hair and blue eyes.

The mysterious Danny.

Time to say hello.

Bruce began to move purposefully through the crowd, not being obvious in his staring but keeping them in the corner of his eye.

**

“Oh shit,” Sam hissed suddenly, grip tightening on Danny’s arm, “Bruce is on his way.”

Danny’s eyes widened and he didn’t quite look all around, but only just. He looked to Jason instead.

“Do we wanna do this now?” He asked, shaking out his shoulders like they were talking about an actual fight.

Jason paused and mulled it over. Dinner would be starting soon, and honestly? If they held Bruce off til then, he couldn’t come for a “private chat” for at least another two hours.

Which would be pretty fucking funny. Especially since Selina had been winding him up.

On the other hand, Bruce wouldn’t have more than ten minutes to interrogate them, and Jason could wind the man up himself.

Jason leaned in until his lips almost brushed Danny’s ear, voice low so they couldn’t be overheard by anyone but Sam, who also leaned in.

“How much do we look like we’ve been passionately making out?” He asked softly, wicked glee in his voice. At least, that’s what Danny thought he said.

It was a little hard to focus with his breath tickling across sensitive skin.

Sam stifled a laugh but Danny almost missed it as he glanced over, catching Bruce Wayne’s eye. And the sudden, intense glare.

A startled squeak slipped free and he grabbed Jason and Sam and vanished.

At least Jason wouldn’t see him blush.

**

Across the hall, Damian’s eyes narrowed.

He’d gotten himself a good vantage point, half way up the stairs so that his relative height wouldn’t be against him.

He could see the whole hall clearly, easily able to track Todd and his cohorts. The dramatics reminded him of one of Todd’s books too, so he was sure the man was having the time of his life.

Right until Fenton grabbed both of his companions and all three disappeared. As if they’d just turned invisible.

Fenton was some form of meta. And something had startled him. Tracing back along the direction he’d been facing, Damian caught sight if Father.

Talking to the Kyle woman.

**

“Selina,” Bruce acknowledged, attention snapped away from Danny Fenton as Selina slunk up to his side, her smile wide and satisfied.

“Bruce. I thought I should come and let you know about the mood in the room,” she purred, hand slipping through his arm.

Eyes narrowed, Bruce glanced up to where Jason had been. His face much, much too close to Danny’s.

All three young people were gone.

Sighing softly in irritation, he returned his attention to Selina.

“Oh? And what is that?” He asked, trying not to let his annoyance rub off on her. She couldn’t have known.

Selina smiled up at him, her other hand coming up to pat gently at his chest.

“Rumour has it Vlad Masters is after your Jason. He’s invited him back to his castle to “get to know each other a little better”,” she purred, fingers flicking against him for the air quotes.

Bruce’s eyes narrowed.

“Why?” He asked sharply, now sweeping the room for Masters’ ponytail.

Selina shrugged elegantly, tweaking his tie before moving back.

“Who can say? Perhaps he’s after the same thing as the Mansons, hoping Jason and young Danny will hit it off. Perhaps it’s a little more… personal,” she mused, a half smile on his face.

Bruce’s expression pinched tighter for just a moment, but he didn’t bother pasting a smile back on. He was allowed to be worried for his son.

Especially if a man old enough to be his father was inviting him away.

“And what did Jason say?” He asked half to himself rather than to her, once again furiously searching the crowd for Jason.

Selina shrugged again, also scanning the crowd.

“Well, he’s been keeping himself quite busy with the small town guests. Perhaps he’s growing tired of Gotham,” she mused, watching Bruce from the corner of her eye.

He knew he twitched. Kept the rest of the response under control.

He wasn’t sure which was worse; Jason building a harem, being courted by an older man, or just plain wanting to leave… no, none of it was good.

The worst part… was that Bruce wouldn’t blame him.

Jason couldn’t be allowed to leave. He just couldn’t. No matter what else happened, Jason needed to be close enough for his family to keep an eye on him.

However good he thought his control of the pit was, it kept slipping. And the chances that Jason would do some serious damage were bad enough in Gotham itself, never mind across the country.

Gotham held so many bad memories, too many of them Bruce’s own doing. Gods, he wished he could safely let Jason go and get him out of that environment. Somewhere far from bad habits.

Though Jason was reluctant enough to leave just Crime Alley. He loved Gotham, and always had, despite what it had cost him. At least if he wanted to leave, Bruce had a plan.

And the fact that he actually would prefer it if Jason were just sleeping around… wasn’t one Bruce was prepared to deal with. He would absolutely not be admitting any of it to Alfred.

Looking back to Selina, his eyes narrowed.

“That wasn’t an answer. Why would Jason want to leave Gotham?” He almost demanded, stepping into her space this time.

Selina did not look impressed, lips pursing and a single brow rising pointedly as she looked him over.

“Why, I don’t know, Bruce. Can you think of anything that might be making him feel unwelcome? Unappreciated? He never did like the limelight,” she remarked coolly, and that cut deeper than her claws.

“The gala was his idea,” he tried to defend himself, not thinking about the first part of her question. Jason had wanted his official life back.

Selina tutted softly, reaching up to pat him on the cheek. That was her slightly pitying smile too.

She knew him far too well.

“You know you won’t get his motivations from talking to me, Bruce. If you want to know what Jason’s thinking you’ll have to ask him yourself. Today’s probably a good time,” she added slyly, half turning away, “after all, you know how soothing a little… exercise can be.”

And then she was gone again, swaying away into the crowd. Bruce took a moment to collect himself before following, closing his eyes and drawing in a deep breath.

It would be fine.

He’d been planning his speech for tonight for weeks. Since Jason had first voiced the idea to Dick.

Bruce knew he was no good at bearing his soul. Open heart to hearts with his children had always been his greatest struggle, and he knew it weighed on them all.

He loved them with all of his heart, and it was maybe that which made it so difficult to just… let himself be vulnerable. He never knew what to say. How to express the depths of emotion.

But he would fix that today, he’d promised himself. He would tell Jason how much he loved him in front of the world.

**

Narrowed eyes being the only outward sign of irritation, Damian hurried down the stairs and through the crowd.

There was no point going directly to Father; he would likely be distracted with the Kyle woman for a while yet. No, he had to find one of his siblings.

Surely one of them had noticed. Todd was to be the center of their attention for the evening. One of them must also have been watching when he disappeared into thin air.

Grayson first, he decided, ducking and weaving between the much taller adults. He was the most competent, and the most invested in Todd’s new behaviour.

Grayson must have seen.

**

Danny gave Jason and Sam an embarrassed grin as he popped them back into visibility behind a plant.

“Sorry… Bruce caught me looking and I kinda panicked?” He offered sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. It was kinda adorable.

Sam rolled her eyes and flicked him upside the head.

“Dude, you’ve gotta learn to chill. One day someone’s gonna see that,” she reprimanded him.

Jason cocked a brow, resisting the urge to pat himself down and check he was tangible again. They’d gone directly through more than one guest on their way to a quiet corner.

“Does this happen a lot?” He asked dryly, fighting down a smile. It was quite possibly the funniest startle response he’d ever seen.

Danny’s cheeks flushed and he looked away, pointedly looking at the floor.

“Not so much any more?” He offered, and Sam snickered.

“He told you how many times he phased through glassware when he first changed, right?” She teased. Danny gave her a half hearted shove and she laughed, shoving back much harder.

Jason did his very best impression of innocence, raising both hands.

“I’m gonna plead the fifth. We should go make sure we’re spotted though, just in case anyone saw,” he added, giving the room another quick scan.

There was no real commotion, no one looking this way and that like they were trying to find someone.

It might be okay.

**

Damian caught up to Cass and Dick just as Dick was wrapping up a particularly colourful story about repainting the manor that was probably at least half true.

Cass wasn’t completely sure, but it would explain the rule about paint rollers being used from the floor or not at all.

Damian was frustrated though, all tight and tense and trembling with self satisfaction. Which wasn’t actually all that unusual, but she wouldn’t say it.

He walked straight up to her, full of determination.

“Cain. Grayson. I need to speak to you,” he demanded bluntly, ignoring the two couples still laughing over Dick’s story.

Cass and Dick exchanged curious looks, and Cass shrugged. Dick turned back to their audience, grinning broadly.

“Well, big brother duty never sleeps. We’ll see you around!” He declared with a jaunty wave, turning to follow Damian. “What’s up, kiddo? It’s nearly dinner time.”

Damian gave him a scathing look and Cass hid a smile. None of them did well with stuffy parties.

Once the youngest decided they’d come far enough from listening ears, he stopped and turned back to hiss.

“Fenton is a meta. He and perhaps Manson as well. I saw them disappear in the crowd.”

Brows furrowed, Dick glanced to Cass again. She frowned, thinking back to what she’d seen of both Amity Parkers. There hadn’t been anything out of the ordinary in their body language.

Unless you thought they were supposed to be civilians, but that wasn’t strange. Not in her circles.

Damian was sure though, so she shrugged again. Dick turned back to Damian, grinning consolingly.

“Hey, I know it’s embarrassing, but Jason’s always been a sneaky bastard. It’s not a big deal to lose them.”

Which was the other option. But the way Damian’s eyes narrowed, anger cranking up and then being choked back down… he was sure.

“I did not say I lost them, Richard! I said I saw them disappear. In front of my eyes. Whether it was some teleportation or just invisibility, I saw them,” he spit out, giving them both a fierce glare.

Cass hesitated, glancing across the hall.

It was… busy. Not exactly packed, but there were enough people, the patterns too random to predict… no.

She’d have noticed someone invisible stepping their way through. There were ways one had to move to avoid being struck if no one could see you.

In a place like this? Not even she would try it in the middle of the floor. This was where you took the high road, or hugged the walls.

Looking back to her brothers, she carefully signed, her body hiding her hands from the crowd.

‘Teleport. Where?’

Dick accepted her analysis as simple fact, frowning thoughtfully and looking around. Damian looked viciously gleeful to be vindicated.

“If they’re still here, it’d have to be short range. Probably somewhere quiet, somewhere they’d been. How long ago?” He asked Damian, and the boy didn’t even glance at his watch.

“Not more than three minutes. You are easy to find.”

“I’m not trying not to be, Dami,” Dick corrected easily, looking around the hall again. “Odds are they’d have gone for the back, so we’ll head that way.”

Which was a really solid plan. Until they stepped back into the crowd and immediately ran into Jason, Danny, and Sam, talking to Tim and Tucker.

**

Bumping into Tucker and Tim had been a fun coincidence, and Danny wasn’t about to miss the chance to catch up. Sure, they’d not been apart long, but a lot had happened.

First of all…

“What happened to your shoulder Tim?” Jason asked “innocently”, something just on this side of sincere worry in his eyes.

Tim made a face, rolling his shoulder and carefully cupping it.

“Oh, nothing. Just a bit of an overenthusiastic greeting by someone called Vlad,” he said nonchalantly, shooting Danny a sly smile. “He thought I was someone else.”

For just the briefest second, that hot flare of Obsession hit Jason again. Protect-mine-how dare he.

But Danny was used to those kinds of reactions; mostly from personal experience. If he even thought his friends were hurt in an attack, things got… intense.

He let his aura spread enough to stroke across Jason’s again, not moving closer while they were the center of attention. He felt the flash of surprise, and something… else?

Something softer, none of the alarm he’d felt when he’d filled the room. He stroked calm-safe-amused-he’s faking back anyway and watched Jason’t shoulders settle.

Felt a wash of embarrassed-amused-sorry more directed his way, and smiled to himself. Jason was getting good at this pretty fast.

Sam, Tuck, and Tim had kept the conversation going while they had their little halfa moment, chatting just a little louder than they should about Tim’s encounter.

Just so their neighbours could hear them without having to strain, of course.

That would be rude.

Slotting back into the conversation was easy, and honestly? Tim was also a pretty cool guy to hang out with. Danny was a little surprised by how much fun he was having.

It just went to show, the galas of nightmares could be pretty fun with friends.

There was definitely something about to start though, because people were beginning to move more pointedly towards the large doors opposite the stairs. The dining hall, if Danny remembered right.

Right. Dinner.

It was probably that which brought Damian, Dick, and Cass to join them. Dick launched easily into the story of their own encounter with Vlad and okay, being funny as fuck clearly ran in the family.

Damian was a little off though. Until he actually met Bruce, Danny couldn’t say for sure, but for now? Maybe the Waynes were just the unfunny ones.

That or something was bugging him, because he had a tight frown on his face. And… was… kinda staring at Danny.

Half an eye on the kid, Danny casually shifted away to the right. The glare followed, so yeah - gonna say that was for him.

It was kinda cute really. For all the kid wanted to play tough guy and pretend he didn’t care, he basically radiated a protective suspicion for Jason.

Danny had to admit he’d been weird enough when he thought anyone was threatening Jazz or his friends, so he couldn’t complain. Just felt strange to be on the other side of.

Just as they were approaching the wide open doors, the Mansons popped up again, absolutely beaming to see Sam surrounded by the full crop of Waynes.

“I’m so happy to see you all getting along, poor Samantha does get so lonely at these events sometimes,” Pamela trilled happily, patting her daughter on the shoulder.

Sam, Manson Party Smile in place, glanced at the hand like she was seriously considering biting it. Danny hid a grin of his own.

“We’re sorry to break up the party, but we should be getting our two off to our table,” Jeremy explained, giving Sam a beaming smile and pretending Danny didn’t exist.

Jason cut in immediately, bestowing a charming smile on both of them and offering Sam his hand. Which she gave a sidelong look to, then slowly took.

Pamela’s eyes all but whirred like camera lenses as she locked onto the gesture.

“Actually, I was just about to invite Sam to join me at our table? And Danny too of course,” Jason added as an afterthought, also not looking for Danny.

For the best, because he wasn’t sure he could hold in all the giggles. No chance of the Mansons noticing anyway, because they were on cloud nine.

“Oh, how wonderful! It would certainly give you some more time to get to know each other,” Pamela gushed, the hand on Sam’s shoulder giving her daughter a sudden little shove closer to Jason.

As if there was any chance she might have missed the super subtle parental semaphore all evening.

And Sam deserved an Oscar.

Glancing up to Jason, she let the Party Smile slip more into a real, shy one, quickly looking away like she didn’t want to be caught looking.

“Yeah, okay. Sounds good,” she said quietly, her grip tightening just a little.

If Danny hadn’t known she’d never been shy in a relationship in her life he could have easily bought into this Bridgerton bullshit. As it was, he and Tuck exchanged grins, wishing for popcorn.

Jeremy took his wife by the arm before she could dissolve into delighted tittering, inclining his head to the group.

“I’m sure we’ll see you after dinner then. Have fun,” he told Sam, and for just a moment he sounded so sincerely proud that Sam’s grip tightened in Jason’s.

Then they were gone and she groaned melodramatically, dropping said hand and glaring at Tucker and Danny.

“Not a word,” she snapped, eyes narrowed. Both boys immediately raised their hands in abject surrender.

“Whatever would we even say?” Tuck asked innocently. Beside him Tim snickered.

“That your parents clearly read even more period romances than Jason?” He offered, and Sam’s eyes narrowed at him instead.

Then she huffed, folding her arms and dragging Jason’s hand into the crook of her elbow.

“Yeah, yeah. Get me to the table. At least I don’t have to listen to them gushing for an hour,” she grumbled, actual sadness flicking across her eyes.

Jason slipped his hand free and before she could protest, wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

“C’mon, let me tell you about all the times Timmy’s fallen asleep at gala dinners,” he said innocently, shooting a wicked grin at his younger brother as he turned them away to keep walking.

Tim’s smile dropped immediately as they begun to walk, hurrying around so he could glare at Jason and walk backwards.

“Don’t you fucking dare Jason. I still have pictures of the Discowing incident,” he threatened, and unfortunately for him only made Jason grin broader.

“You did, until Babs owed me a favour,” he teased back and Tim’s eyes narrowed, hands jumping to his phone.

“Fuck off she did not, she wouldn’t,” he grumbled as he fell behind, Dick landing a companionable hand on the back of his neck to steer him along with them.

“Discowing incident?” Tucker asked, hurrying up on Jason’s other side.

Jason glanced back over his shoulder, smirking at Dick and Tim.

“Family game night. The loser has to suffer some humiliation, and when I lost they got me one of Nightwing’s old costumes to wear for photos. The one with the v-neck,” he added for explanation.

Coming up on Sam’s other side, his hand in the small of her back, Danny damn near tripped over his feet. He’d have fallen if Sam hadn’t caught him, a smug smirk now on her face.

At least she was feeling better.

Behind them, Dick rolled his eyes while Tucker went searching on his PDA.

“Hey, I still say that was a cool suit. More interesting than all the black spandex the rest of the bat brigade mainline,” he protested, making all three of his brothers scoff.

“Then why did he stop wearing it?” Steph asked, materialising from nowhere to toss an arm around Dick’s shoulders, just as Danny asked,

“Isn’t Nightwing’s current costume mostly black?”

Even Cass giggled, which Danny had already decided was an accomplishment. Dick gave a few half hearted defences while the others needled him, and Tucker made a triumphant noise and passed his PDA to Sam.

She angled it so Danny could see and he had to clap his hand over his mouth to keep from laughing.

“He fought crime in that?!” He exclaimed through his fingers, and Sam raised a pointed brow at him.

“Batman’s underwear are on the outside and this is the line?” She asked sarcastically, then turned and grinned up at Jason. “So when are you introducing me to my new best friend Babs?”

They’d reached a large oval table now… right in the front and center of the room. Right. Wayne table, Jason’s gala.

They were gonna have an audience.

Jason chuckled and grinned down at Sam, moving to pull out a chair for her just off center.

“Absolutely fucking never unless you swear to forget all you’ve heard,” he promised as the rest of his siblings minus Cass rushed around for the other side of the table.

Sam snorted a laugh, taking the seat and letting him tuck her in.

“Look at what I am fucking wearing. Give me the disco suit and I’ll wear that with pride,” she pointed out, gesturing to the mass of bows.

Dick won the race, by diving into the seat Tim had just pulled out and locking his legs underneath it. He leaned immediately across the table and grinned at Sam.

“Are you busy tomorrow?” He asked with a mischievous glint in his eyes. Steph dropped down to sit beside him.

“We could go later tonight?” She offered, and both laughed when Jason flicked a napkin at them, taking his own seat.

“You’re both the fucking worst, and Babs has shit on you too,” he reminded them, with no real effect.

Danny took a seat Sam’s other side, Tucker winding up beside Danny on the curve. That left Tim with a seat almost half opposite Tucker, on the other side of the round.

Further from the main action, but honestly, he took it with good grace. Better than Damian, who despite having the seat on Dick’s other side, near the middle of the table, was still sulking.

Maybe because he’d had to wait for a new chair to be brought? Cass had the other new chair, at Jason’s other side.

No one seemed worried that they’d left the table unbalanced, mostly down at one end.

A couple of attendants had already hurried over with three extra chairs, disappearing again for place settings as the Waynes passed cutlery around.

Danny figured this was what throwing the party (and having more money than your average country) did for you. People didn’t make a fuss when plans changed.

The hall was still pretty loud, people finding their seats and getting comfortable. Across the table Dick leaned forward, grinning broadly at Sam and Danny.

“So, we know about Sam and her folks. What about you, Danny? Do you have any family nearby?” He asked, ignoring a warning look from Jason.

Danny appreciated it, but he didn’t really mind. Odds on, he’d be getting to know Jason’s family better at some point. They seemed pretty close.

“Nah, my sister’s studying psychology in Star City and both parents are still in Illinois. We sort of spread out.” Not least so both he and Jazz could have some time away from home.

Time to pretend to be normal. And somewhere nobody knew the name Fenton.

Dick nodded cheerfully, but Danny didn’t miss how both Damian and Steph’s eyes had narrowed. They were gonna remember what he said for later.

Fun. Maybe he should be doing some interrogating back.

Dick had already moved on though, still with that charming smile.

“Can’t say I know much about that, the furthest I got from home was Bludhaven,” he said companionably, tugging Damian in for a hug. “Can’t let the little ones do without their biggest brother.”

Damian squirmed viciously, sputtering protests, and Steph laughed and pulled Dick into a headlock.

“Jason’s bigger,” she teased, and Danny couldn’t help glancing over from the corner of his eye.

Jason was a lot bigger. In just about every direction. To be fair, Jason was bigger than some cars.

Dick squirmed free with surprising flexibility, releasing Damian who huffed and corrected his outfit immediately. Danny figured it was as good a time as any to do some sleuthing back.

“Bludhaven, huh? What do you do there?”

“I’m a cop,” Dick answered with an easy shrug. “I guess I got in the habit of wrangling these little bastards.”

Sam snorted a laugh beside him and Danny hid a grin in his hands. He was probably gonna regret that.

“You grew up in Gotham and became a cop?” She asked, heavy with derision. Beside Danny Tucker snickered, leaning over to whisper to Tim.

“And you thought you had it bad before.” Which, yeah. ACAB was Sam’s other favourite mantra after Eat The Rich.

Dick shrugged again, not losing his cheerful grin yet and spread his hands.

“That’s kinda why I did it. There were always so many corrupt cops, I wanted there to be at least someone that people could count on,” he explained like it might save him.

Sam stifled most of the second laugh.

“Oh, sorry, I thought you said you became a cop, not a firefighter. Is he a snitch too?” She asked Steph, who looked like Christmas had either come a little late or extremely early.

“Not to Bruce, but he did threaten to arrest me for parking near a fire route,” she said with a wicked grin.

Decidedly pouting now, Dick threw both hands into the air.

“I was kidding! I didn’t actually arrest her!” He argued as the rest of the table booed. Even Damian.

“Just another corrupt cop,” Sam sighed, shaking her head. Dick opened and closed his mouth a few times, then frowned.

“Wait so I’m a snitch if I do arrest people and corrupt if I don’t? How am I supposed to win?” He complained, the pout still mostly playful.

Sam stared him dead in the eye, devoid of mercy.

“Not be a cop.”

Dick groaned dramatically and Steph laughed, reaching over to pinch his cheeks.

“Hey, we told you when you joined,” she pointed out cheerfully and Dick sighed.

“Well, yeah, but the system’s not gonna change if no one ever does anything, is it?”

Tucker and Danny exchanged looks. Grins. And were slightly surprised when Jason beat Sam to the punch.

“Corrupt systems don’t change from the inside, Dickie,” he said with a smirk. Dick pointed an accusatory finger at him.

“Hey, you can’t talk. He likes Red Hood,” he explained as an aside to the Amity Parkers as if it might help his case.

Jason spread his hands, grinning.

“Hey, I came from the Alley, I’m allowed to appreciate a guy cleaning it up. Which the cops never even tried,” he added smugly. Dick huffed.

“Red Hood killed people.”

“So do the police,” Sam pointed out with a smirk of her own and Dick deflated.

“Red Hood stopped,” Jason joined in, jumping on the moment of weakness. “I bet his bodycount is less than Bludhaven PD’s.”

Steph and Tim both snickered at that, although Danny wasn’t quite sure why. It seemed a little more innuendo ridden than just enjoying Dick’s suffering.

And Jason’s cheeks definitely pinked. But he ignored them. Yeah, Danny had some follow up questions for later.

From Jason’s other side, Cass signed something that Danny couldn’t quite catch from this angle, but Steph nodded quickly.

“Yeah, good point Cass. She wants to know what you guys think about vigilantes,” she explained, looking expectantly at Sam.

Who frowned for a moment, then shrugged.

“At least they’re getting something done. But someone needs to look into Batman hoarding children,” she said dryly, and most of the table snickered.

“I think most of them follow him,” Tim pointed out in an effort to be fair. Steph and Jason both made faces at him and he flipped them both off.

“But do you have a favourite of Gotham’s vigilantes?” asked Dick, leaping onto the subject change with both feet.

Danny cast a quick glance at Jason, but he looked about as entertained as the rest of the table. It must have been something they talked about a lot.

Or the rest of the Waynes were the rest of the bats. But Danny didn’t want to assume… unless it would be funny.

Without the key of Jason’s old Robin connection, Sam and Tucker probably wouldn’t get there.

Sam was pursing her lips, probably thinking about her options. She’d know more of them than him or Tucker, but Danny figured he knew most of the big players.

“Black Bat,” she finally decided, leaning back in her seat, “but Batwoman definitely fucks.”

This was met with general agreement, Danny frowning for a moment. He’d not had many bat sightings since moving to Gotham, but…

“She definitely says fuck,” he agreed with a snicker. Sam punched his shoulder.

“You can’t talk. Who’s your favourite, new town boy?”

Rubbing his arm and feigning great injury, Danny stuck his tongue out at her. Thought for a moment longer.

“Signal’s pretty great,” he decided, tipping his chair back for a moment to frown at the ceiling, “I passed by the mall after a rogue attack one time and he was teaching the kids to do flips.”

“After the rogue was in custody?” Steph asked, but she was still grinning. Danny shrugged.

“I dunno, I don’t talk to cops.”

Dick let out another wounded groan and Sam snickered, then leaned forward to look at Tucker.

“How about you?”

Tucker hesitated for a moment, clearly torn. Then he visibly drew in his courage and looked around the table expectantly.

“Have you guys heard of the Oracle?” He asked, voice heavy with anticipation. The surrounding Gothamites stilled, watching him expectantly.

Sam rolled her eyes.

“If you’re not wearing spandex are you even a vigilante?” She asked dryly. Tucker flipped her off.

“Hey, Oracle’s done more for this city than any of the bats! More for the whole world!”

“It’s a legend in the hacker community,” Danny “explained”, keeping an eye on Dick and Steph as the two opposite him. And less obviously hacker connected.

If they were the bats and Oracle existed, they’d know.

“They’re a master hacker that can break any system, any time, and gathers all the evidence to put people like Roman Sionis behind bars,” Tucker said, taking over the explanation.

With his usual dramatic aplomb, planting both hands flat on the table and leaning forward impressively, his voice low and conspiratorial.

“No one knows who they are or anything about them. You just find their tracks sometimes, especially when there’s a really big rogue attack or someone gets busted too soon.”

“Sounds kinda like a rumour,” Dick offered with a small shrug, glancing at Tim. “How about you, Tim? Have you heard of an Oracle?”

Tim hesitated for a moment, just long enough for Steph to snicker.

“Guess if there is one they don’t bother with Bludhaven PD,” she said smugly, dodging when Dick swung half heartedly at her. “Police brutality!”

Dick groaned whole heartedly as the others laughed, sinking back into his seat.

“But seriously, why doesn’t anyone like Nightwing?” He grumbled, arms folded as he pouted at his siblings. “He was on the scene before it was cool.”

‘Before he had to be cool,’ Cass signed, shuffling a little further around the curve of the oval so the rest of the table could see her.

Dick’s head snapped up when Steph and Sam laughed harder, pouting at his sister.

“Hey! Not fair when I’m not looking!”

‘Pay attention then,’ she signed back, her expression all sweet and studied innocence.

At the other end of the table Tucker decided to take a little pity on the guy.

“Nightwing’s okay. I liked that suit,” he said with a shrug and a grin. Dick straightened in his seat, grinning over at him.

“Finally, a man of distinction and taste!”

“Cops don’t get opinions,” Sam smirked, leaning forward to grin at Tucker, “so what’s your excuse?”

Tucker stuck his nose in the air, pointedly looking away from her.

“We’re not all goth, Sam. Some of us have heard of colours.”

“Spoiler wears purple,” Tim put in helpfully, pulling up a picture to show him. Tucker leaned in for a moment, then nodded.

“Yeah that’s pretty cool too. Capes are in,” he added, shooting a meaningful look at Danny. Who rolled his eyes, both hands in the air.

“And when they come in for those of us not wearing identity obscuring masks, I’ll wear one,” he replied dryly. Tucker pshawed at him, waving a hand.

“You’re in Gotham, how weird would it be?” He asked off handedly. Danny sighed and then looked pointedly around the rest of the table.

“Weird?” Steph offered, shrugging.

“Pretty fuckin’ weird,” Jason agreed and Danny folded his arms and grinned at Tucker.

“I’m not breaking my win streak by letting some rogue mistake me for a bat. You wear a cape while you’re here,” he said, sticking out his tongue.

Whatever Tucker was about to say was lost when Dick sat up sharply, face bright with renewed enthusiasm.

“Wait, Danny, does that mean you haven’t been in a rogue attack before?” He asked eagerly, which was just a little too fucking weird.

Even weirder, the rest of the Gothamites looked equally excited. Even Damian managed a smug anticipation around his piercing stare.

Danny felt kind of like he was in a freak show display case.

“Uh… yeah? But I bet loads of people in Gotham haven’t and it’s only been a year…” his excuses were immediately batted away as Steph clasped her hands in front of her.

“Oh that means tonight is gonna be your first! That’s so exciting!” She squealed happily.

Danny and Tucker gave her weird looks, but to their surprise it was Sam who answered, sighing and leaning back in her seat.

“At least one rogue always attacks a gala,” she explained, waving a hand around them, “it’s all of Gotham’s wealthiest in one place. It’s why we don’t come here much,” she added, eyes narrowing in frustration.

Beside her Jason frowned down at her. Probably trying to work out the frustration.

“Because they don’t think it’s safe? One of the bats always deals with it,” he added when Tucker and Danny still looked confused.

Sam snorted and shook her head.

“Because they think I’ll start something during the attack,” she huffed, folding her arms and glaring at Tucker and Danny. Daring them to comment.

Tucker, unafraid of death with Danny between them, snickered.

“You’ll finish something during the attack,” he corrected, ignoring the suddenly concerned looks from the Gothamites.

Sam’s eyes narrowed further but she let the comment stand. Steph leaned forward a little, looking nervous for the first time.

“It’s usually better not to get involved?” She offered, sounding almost apologetic. “The rogues can be pretty dangerous and you don’t want to call attention to yourself.”

“I doubt that would be an issue,” Damian snapped, eyes narrowed as he trained that glare on Sam instead of Danny.

She stared him down, then nodded sharply.

“He gets it. Anyway, you don’t have to worry, I got the lecture half a dozen times when we flew in. “No punching assholes, or any criminals”,” she mimicked her mom’s perky tones, heavily sarcastic air quotes stretched alongside.

Stifling a grin, Danny suddenly noticed something.

“Hey wait, I didn’t get the no punching speech?”

“Maybe they’re hoping you die in the rogue attack,” Tucker snickered, shooting Jason a sly grin.

There was, predictably, that Obsessive flare of protection-guard-still funny and Danny kicked Tucker under the table for it.

He already wasn’t happy about the whole Fright Knight thing, better not to belabour it. Almost before he reached for Jason, he felt the other man reaching back though.

Grinned in spite of himself at that first careful brush.

Safe-home-I’m fine

Smug-strong-damn fucking right you are

“They’d be a little late to that request,” Danny shot back at Tucker instead, even as he winced from the kick.

About half the table groaned, which Danny personally considered unfair, since the Gothamites hadn’t heard his death jokes before.

Right up until Tim ran both hands through his hair, looking from Danny to Jason in amused exasperation.

“Great, there’s two of you. Are bad puns a side effect of the Lazarus pit too?” He asked dryly.

“No because if it was puns, it’d be Dick,” Jason shot back just as fast and Dick groaned, letting his head flop forwards onto the table.

“Did I just not get the memo that it’s “Bully Dick Day” or something?” He moaned plaintively, still overacting enough that Danny wasn’t worried they’d actually upset him.

And when Jason leaned over and flicked the top of his head, equally unconcerned.

“Consider it revenge for almost a decade of godawful puns, Dickiebird,” he told him bluntly, and Dick groaned louder.

“Betrayed by my own brethren… abandoned by my flesh and blood…”

“We are not your flesh and blood,” Damian reminded him sharply - and possibly unwisely, since it prompted Dick to flop over onto him instead and wail louder.

“Denounced! Deserted! Thrown to the gutters!” He howled at increasing volume.

Damian threw all attempts at dignity to the wind, struggling to fight his brother off without falling out of his chair. Dick just threw more of his weight over, both chairs beginning to rock dangerously.

There was now muffled laughter from more than just their own table in the background. This only seemed to encourage Dick, right up until someone cleared their throat into the microphone.

Damian took immediate advantage of his hesitation and shoved Dick off him and to the floor. Danny and the rest of the table looked up into the surprisingly stern face of Brucie Wayne.

Who then smiled.

“So, with that bit of rough housing out of the way… I promise I will let you all get to your meals shortly, but I have a couple of things to say first. I’ll do my best to keep it short and sweet.”

Dick scrambled back into his seat and Danny glanced along the table, wondering what was going on. The party was just to show Jason was back, right?

Jason was sat right here.

And had apparently caught wind of his confusion, catching his eye and half smirking.

“It’ll be a couple minutes. Then I have a speech, then we’re done and it’s just food, more socialising, and shaking hands with 90% of high society,” he explained quietly, leaning down to Sam and Danny as Bruce spoke.

Sam didn’t seem concerned, so Danny settled in as well to watch. There might be some fun baby Jason stories.

And y’know? It was a pretty standard speech. Talking about his beloved son, how hard it had been when he was gone, how happy Bruce had been to find him.

Danny found himself glancing over at Jason a couple of times, the beginning of a smile tugging at his lips. Jason looked mostly unmoved, smiling along at appropriate points, but not engaged.

Until.

“And I can only say how sorry I am that I wasn’t there when he needed me the most,” Bruce ended softly, eyes meeting Jason’s from the podium.

The younger man went white so fast Danny almost thought he’d transformed. Sam’s nails bit into the table.

“That’s the first time he’s said that, isn’t it?” She snarled, just low enough to go under the genteel applause all around them.

Danny flicked his aura out across Jason and he visibly started, then turned to glance at them. Nodded once. And started to stand.

Sam’s hand snapped over like a whip before he’d pushed the chair back, her voice low and deathly serious.

“Jason Todd we met today but if you go up there right now and say anything even like that you forgive him, that man is leaving here tonight in a Fenton thermos.”

Danny rolled his eyes, leaning over and nudging his hand under hers as the applause began to fade, eyes beginning to turn their way.

“Can’t put living humans in the thermos, Sam,” he hissed, sending a gentle pulse of reassurance-calm-we’ve got you through his fingertips to Jason.

The other halfa looked surprised for a moment, then shot him a grateful smile, hand turning to touch both of theirs as he rose. Sam turned her fixed smile on Danny, now holding both of their hands.

“I did not say he would still be living, Danny,” she said firmly and Jason stifled a laugh, his aura brightening to amused-shocked-touched.

Beat the hell out of the gaping, painful hole it had been. Danny caught his fingers for a last second before Jason pulled away, grinning at them both.

“I appreciate the backup, but I’ve got this. I know how to handle him,” Jason said softly, coming around behind their seats.

One hand brushed across the back of Danny’s neck, though who he was grounding Danny couldn’t say. And as he moved up to the podium himself, Danny damn near believed him.

Couldn’t argue with the open sincerity Bruce was putting out either though.

Tugging their hands back off the table, he leaned in to whisper to Sam.

“The fuck was that about? At least he finally said sorry?”

Sam closed her eyes for a long moment, visibly reigning in her temper.

“I fucking hate that manipulative bullshit, Danny. It’s the same crap as a public proposal; he gets to be the good guy, and all the pressure is on Jason to act the right way, do the acceptable thing, or he’s the villain. It’s fucked up and it’s a cruel way to force the answer you want from someone if you don’t think they’d give it,” she snarled, eyes still fixed on Bruce as he moved to the side of the stage.

Danny stared at her for a long moment, then sunk back into his seat, Tucker visibly deflating alongside him. He’d never thought of it like that.

Tucker let out a low, uneasy whistle as Jason took the microphone.

“Sooooooo, note for Val, no public proposals?” He offered in a whisper, and Danny giggled in spite of himself.

Sam kicked him in the shins, fighting her own smile, still staring at Jason.

“Shut up.”

**

Jason was gonna buy Sam a coffee. Six coffees. Maybe more.

He just… he’d seen Bruce’s speech. They’d read each others, both gone through them with Alfred to make sure they were concise, charming, and appropriate.

Bruce had asked for his green light on every story.

The apology hadn’t been in it.

Fuck, his head was still spinning in a thousand different directions and he could barely even feel the pit. He felt shocky, shaky even now, going through the motions.

Smile and wave.

He didn’t know what he’d have said or done if Sam hadn’t grabbed him. If he could have said anything at all. But it had helped. Brought him back to himself.

And an imminent offer to murder Bruce, which he sorely appreciated even if he was pretty sure Bruce hadn’t actually been hoping to force him into anything.

The guy was a master manipulator of his own image, but… he wouldn’t do that to them. To any of his children, no matter how much Jason sometimes doubted that he still counted.

There was something in the way their eyes met, the way his voice softened even on mic. A tenderness that Jason actually believed, in spite of himself.

And how fucked up was that, that it was easier for Bruce to say sorry in a mask, in front of a couple hundred people, than just to Jason alone? That it took a crowd for him to admit he’d failed?

No. Jason wasn’t going to forgive him. Not the easy out of a public reconciliation and then everything going magically back to normal.

Fuck, he wanted to. Wanted to fall into Bruce’s arms, be fifteen again when his dad was always right and strong and had all the answers.

Wanted to say the words and have the fairytale moment.

But even without the pit screaming bloody vengeance he knew it wouldn’t be true. Saying sorry was never what he’d wanted from Bruce, and he hadn’t expected it.

He wanted to know he’d mattered. Wanted to know that Bruce had cared, had learned, would never put a fucking kid in that position ever again.

Bruce was more careful now. Tim and Damian and Steph had an extra full book of rules on top of what Dick and Jason had made.

But he still wouldn’t make the hard choices. Still looked down on Jason for taking someone at their word when they said they’d never change, that it’d take death to stop them.

They still had a fucking lot to talk about, even if Jason had stopped killing.

Bruce hadn’t looked away the entire time Jason made his way to the podium. At least, not unless he’d done it in those seconds with Sam and Danny.

He’d moved back and away, giving Jason his space, and he appreciated that. He even managed a small, slightly strained but genuine smile as he stepped up to the mic.

“And on that cheerful note…” he let himself trail off, pulling his own less practiced but still perfect Party Smile on, letting the room in on the joke.

Laughter broke out quickly, breaking the tension that maybe hadn’t all been in Jason’s head. Looking back at Danny, Jason could swear he felt the other man’s relief wash over him.

He was fine. He could make a joke.

Part of him wanted to change his own speech, something to acknowledge what Bruce said, something to throw him off like he’d done to Jason.

But Sam was right; Jason had deserved to hear those words alone first. In private. And when he was ready to move on, that’s how he’d tell Bruce.

Honestly his mind was empty anyway. It was hard enough to remember the practiced speech, and letting himself sink into the familiar words helped steady him.

His speech was shorter. Bruce told their “story”, ostensibly to spare Jason from painful memories. All Jason had to do was say how glad he was to be back.

Talk about all the things he wanted to do for kids that hadn’t gotten as lucky as him. The things he’d do with his second chance… third chance in the eyes of most of the room.

Name a couple of generous future donors Tim had helped him select for bleeding hearts and a love of attention. Although… that’d be an opening.

Hiding a smirk behind the practiced smile, Jason looked around the room until he caught sight of the older Mansons.

“I’ve been thinking a lot about the future,” he added, just at the end of his own speech. Made eye contact with both, looked to the front table, and smiled at Sam.

Yeah, this’d give Bruce a fucking heart attack too. That’d do.

“There’s so much I’ve missed. I don’t want to miss out on anything else. I intend to take every chance this new life gives me with both hands. Especially when it brings new… friends.”

He lingered over the pause, enjoying the way Sam’s grin turned fucking feral. Let his gaze drift sideways to Danny, who had both hands clapped over his mouth to muffle his laughter.

Figured fuck it.

And blew Sam a kiss.

**

Danny stilled, something pinching suddenly tight in his chest.

He’d seen Jason’s lips before. Pretty much every time they’re together, honestly, they spent a lot of time talking. They have so much to talk about.

He’d already seen them laugh, smile, pout, pulled tight in a snarl. All sorts of expressions, and he can just about remember watching old clips of Robin.

Same expressive face, even around a mask. There’s a weight there now that Robin never had though, even when he got more violent.

Dying changed people, and there weren’t many people in the world who knew that more intimately than Danny. Being a teen superhero wasn’t easy either, but being a dead teen hero…

Honestly it was a distinction they shared with way too many of the other young heroes, and Danny got why Jason fucking hated the very concept.

It aged you before your time. Showed you sides of the world no kid should see. Gave you the chance to keep other kids from having to.

Danny thought he’d seen pretty much everything the living world had to offer. The good, the bad, the ugly. But now he was here, looking up at his new friend, and it felt like he’d never seen him before.

There was a part of him that wanted to see Jason smile more, to see the weight lift from his shoulders.

There’s a part of him remembering those lips next to his ear, warm breath stroking across him but not closing the gap.

There’s a part of him that wondered how, even after all he’d been through, Jason still had those smiles in him.

And there’s a part of him as he watched Jason press his fingers to his lips that wondered if they could possibly be as soft as they looked. If Jason had leaned just a hairsbreadth closer…

And yeah, he was going to be denying ownership of every single one of those parts, thank you very much. Especially the one that flickered with just a hint of jealousy.

Jason was a damn fine actor, that much had been clear right from the start of the evening. This was all just for the bit.

There was nothing to be jealous of.

He just. Hadn’t noticed Jason’s lips before. How soft and full they looked, how a smile curved them into something beautiful.

He realised he’d been staring when he caught Jason’s eye, saw those smooth lips twitch into a wider smile. And then Jason was making his way down from the podium.

Back to the table.

Holy fuck Danny was gonna need to be able to string a coherent sentence together by the time he arrived. Even with Sam and Tucker, with Jason’s siblings responses of glee and laughter…

He might not make it.

He just kept getting distracted in the curve of that mischievous smile.

———————————

Biggest thanks to @lehana37 and @wolfjackle for helping me out when I got stuck on this one! It turns out the answer to tricky scenes is still “And then Catwoman was there”.

This last scene is for @jotaroslooseeyebrowhair 😁

Next:

[fastcardotmp3]

The White Rabbit (Part 1/3)

Because Eddie does a headcount. 

And there are five people, not four, standing at the bottom of this dried up lake, and one of them is tearing the final bat in half with his bare hands. 

Robin chokes, hunches over and vomits straight onto the ground.

Fair enough, considering they’re looking at Steve Harrington. 

Fair enough, considering they’re looking at a dead man. 

read on ao3 | playlist

steddie - 17k words - rated M excerpt under the cut

“I’m,” Eddie clears his throat, which has Robin looking at him closely, “I’m. Cashing in on it.” 

Steve’s shoulders slump, unimpressed deadpan to his tone as he repeats, “cashing in on it.” 

“Yep,” Eddie grins as smarmy and smug as he can. “You, Steve Harrington, owe me a favor. In case you forgot.” 

“Since when?” Steve makes a face, all scrunched towards the center with befuddled disbelief like Eddie has just said something of personal offense to him. 

Eddie, for his part, can’t help but grin when Steve makes that face. 

“Since forever, probably,” he shrugs, “who cares, but you definitely owe me for something at some point since you’re, y’know, a fuckin’ bastard and a half, so I’m cashing in.” 

Steve stares him down, scowl only growing as Eddie stares at him right back with a closed-lipped smirk of a grin, Robin looking between the two of them like she’s watching a tennis match for all of three seconds of silent communication until she’s snorting, throwing her hands up, and walking in between the two of them with the declaration— 

“I’m taking my ten. Or, like, my however long this takes.” 

She waggles her fingers at Steve in a little wave and Steve, in return, rolls his eyes in a way that’s far too fond for the interaction, but which makes sense with the synced-up movement as Robin disappears into the back through the door and Steve hops through the window and take her place up front. 

A well-oiled machine, the two of them, but not the point of Eddie crashing their work day. 

“Do I actually owe you a favor or is this your way of telling me you got new stock in?” Steve leans forward onto his hands at the counter in the same moment when Eddie leans back with the cross of his arms over his chest, flannel tied around his waist swaying with the motion. 

“I mean, you definitely owe me a favor,” Eddie shrugs, “but both things can be true.” 

“You realize I pay you, right? With cash?” Steve snarks, and it’s such a thing with him, tone, that Eddie feels like he’s constantly relearning how to read the book of Harrington, the layers of distaste and amusement and genuine good guy syndrome hidden somewhere underneath. “Is that not favor enough any-fucking-more?” 

“Oh, dear Steve,” Eddie smirks, forces it out despite the roll of his gut that he’s chosen to ignore for now and also forever thank you very much, “the money is for the good shit, but you helping me fix the rail on my porch is for, y’know, the kid tax.” 

Steve makes a face. He’s kind of the king of making faces, and faces that work their way between Eddie’s ribs specifically, but this isn’t something Steve’s gonna win with a quirk of the brow and a frown to his lips. 

The kid tax is Eddie’s own personal self destruct mode after all– the kind designed to take anyone in the remote vicinity down with him– it’s all his fear wrapped up in a set of rules that no one but him knows in their entirety and it affects Steve Harrington’s drug habit pretty exclusively. 

Steve is all reluctant exasperation in a little hat as he all but actually rolls his eyes at Eddie. He looks away, looks everywhere except Eddie’s eye, and grumbles, “I get off at six.” 

The most telling part about that?

Eddie hasn’t really won either. 

read on ao3

[sleeplesssmoll]

Thank you for replying so fast! It’s really interesting that Vertin really did make such a gamble. Speaking of which, what is with the two moons? Is that the Storm Syndrome of the era? How is it related to the pop art thing we see happen?

Full disclosure before this: I adore Vernetto and I’m very much writing from the perspective of Vernetto Real, haha. So: I feel like Vertin and Sonetto’s relationship changes quite a bit throughout the story. In chapter 3, Vertin is the one who pursues Sonetto, but the dynamic is reversed (ha) later on. I often feel like Vertin has trouble identifying her own emotions regarding other people, and it makes me wonder if maybe she had a crush on Sonetto without realizing it when they were kids, giving her all sorts of things in an attempt to bond with her. It didn’t really work because Sonetto was so scared of anything from the outside, despite her natural curiosity. Then the breakaway happened, there was no chance for things to progress, and Vertin “moved on”.

I feel like it breaks Vertin’s heart to see Sonetto shut down her natural curiosity and interest in the outside world due to the Foundation’s indoctrination, but at the same time, Vertin doesn’t want to force her to change her views. Instead I think she is incredibly supportive and proud of Sonetto whenever she makes strides in the direction of independence. And of course she’s always happy to enable Sonetto when she wants to try things (I really cannot imagine a world where Vertin turned down Sonetto’s cheek kissing practice or bridge invitation!).

Also, do we know if the prologue is the first time Vertin and Sonetto have met each other since the breakaway, or if they’ve seen each other in between? Things like Sonetto’s birthday letter would maybe imply that it’s not the first time, right?

I want to know the last bit as much as you 😂 I'm assuming they stayed in touch but there isn't much to go off of. I really want to know what happened between the break away event and the intro.

Sonetto, how did you get from "damn it Vertin" to this puppy? Also, despite Sonetto scolding Vertin, she will still accept the gifts and never outright ignores her. If Vertin calls, she'll answer and I think that says something about her too.

Vertin once mentioned to Madam Z she knew she could depend on her because on that night long ago, she saw that madam z was not part of Constantine's game by the look in her eyes. She also doesn't force people to make choices they really don't want. For example, she gives Regulus options in the Suitcase after everything as proof of this. Like if Regulus wanted, she could have joined the Foundation which would make sense considering the whole experiment thing but they really are alike so that didn't happen. She stayed.

Going off of this, I think Vertin has high emotional intelligence but doesn't necessarily know the correct action to take. Especially since they were kids back then. Maybe she saw that curious spark Sonetto displays now and wanted to fuel it, hoping to bond over shared interests? Her perception is highlighted throughout the story. Perhaps she knew Sonetto doesn't actually hate her despite her frustrations? Gremlin energy. You love and you hate them.

As for the Storm Syndrome, yes I think the moons were a side effect of the Storm but I couldn't tell you exactly what it represented 🤔

From a shipping perspective, I l'm happy with any content with Vertin in it lol. As for the analysis of shipping dynamics, I like comparing opposite dynamics since it helps me refine the point I'm trying to make. On this case, it'd be Schneider.

While seeing Schneider's effect on Vertin is straightforward, Sonetto's true influence stood out to me when I backtracked.

From the moment they met, Schneider is described with a sort of romantic or pretty language. From her face to her scent, she's directly described in a delicate but deadly light. It really feels like she made a shift in Vertin's world in the short time they knew each other.

The context she thinks about Sonetto isn't highlighted with the same romanticism she applies to Schneieder, but she constantly appears in Vertin's thoughts. In Sonetto's case it's the small things that Vertin's always noticed but never forgets. Sonetto lives in her head rent free from her dreams (artificial somnambulism) to memories from their days as children.

From all the way back in the intro, Vertin makes references to their school days when she meets Sonetto. Like the way Sonetto looks up at the sky and takes a deep breath before combat or the determined expression is the same kind she makes before an exam. While Schneider made a huge impact in a moment, Sonetto's presence quietly persisted in her mind for a long time.

In simpler terms:

Schneider was the one who shook her world.

Sonetto is her Roman Empire.

I might have more dynamics to work with in the future and this is subject to change as the character develop but I hope this is useful for your story! Good luck! 👍

[ghastlybin]

Can I request an angsty DC 8th member fic. I just need to read more 8th member au's and I love angst

Word, thank you for the request!!! Your wish is my command <3 =)) By the way, anyone else reading this, PLEASE READ THE TRIGGER WARNINGS FIRST! I BEG YOU.

Pairing: Dreamcatcher + 8th member! GN reader.

Word count: 2k

Genre/contents: Dreamcatcher’s 8th member! AU, Angst, heavy topics.

TW: Depictions of depression and anxiety. Kinda heavyish on imposter syndrome, insecurites, not feeling good enough, etc. The Y/N struggles with mental health and imposter syndrome, for short.

Note: I think I suck at being happy but I did attempt a happy-ish ending but I also didn’t want to be like “hey, depression. Now y/n is cured!1!1” Because that’s not how it works, sadly. But I at least tried to imply baby steps to managing the readers mental health better in the future rather than hold it all in kinda? I hope? Also the dialogue at the end that isn’t spoken by the Y/N is up to your interpretation. Could be any member you feel would say it or even your bias. Up to you. Anyways, enough stalling, thank you again, ily, and I hope you enjoy despite the topics depicted. (I really don’t know how else to word that- I am so sorry but yk what I mean though I hope lmao) I ALSO DON’T MEAN TO OFFEND ANYONE if I do :(( I tried not to be offensive here.

Ignore the fact that I couldn’t find a gif lol goodnight/morning/afternoon it is currently 5am so I’m gonna dip but ily!!

It wasn’t supposed to be like this, the idol life.

You worked hard for years and finally got to debut as the eighth member of Dreamcatcher, putting music out that you’ve worked years to be able to put out.

But this? The self-doubt, the imposter syndrome, your insecurities that are constantly being picked out and called out by critics and antis.

You were always in a constant battle with your own mind, each word playing on repeat as you began to pick yourself apart and wishing you worked just a little bit harder to be as perfect as your fellow members.

Every day, every comeback, every waking moment, you worked harder and harder to fit in with the girls.

No matter what you did, you still felt less than others.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

You were supposed to be happy, enthusiastic, and in love with music— And you were.

You were happy. Happy you got to debut. Happy you were in a group full of wonderful women who were by your side every step of the way.

You were enthusiastic. Enthusiastic about performing. Enthusiastic about always putting in the most effort you could manage.

Of course, you were in love with music. Making music, singing, performing, and even producing it.

With each comeback, you recieved so much love from fans, dreamcatcher, and even staff, treating everyone kindly and respectfully and hoping they didn’t face the same feelings you felt deep inside.

But even with so much support, you still felt alone.

The loneliness was as intense as a monster that wanted nothing more than to eat away at your soul day by day.

And you would’ve let it, the pain inside debilitating your will to stay strong day by day.

You would’ve allowed yourself to drown completely, had it not been for your members there to keep your head above water and your passion for making music— Which was very much still there and still stronger than any demon eating away at you.

-

Handong was the first to see through to your emotional pain. The existential dread of never being enough.

You were seated beside her at a restaurant during dinner with the girls after a successful show.

The shaking of your hands, your heart beating through your chest, each vein pulsating with each beat.

Did I mess up the show?

You remembered how your mind raced with questions that you know you’d never believe the answers to.

Did anyone cheer for me during my parts?

Handong could feel something was off about you. Maybe it was the way you smiled without any feeling behind it. Maybe you were shaking too much for it to just be post-performance adrenaline.

Whatever it was, she realized the pain you were in. How it wasn’t something you could slap a band-aid on and be done with.

She saw you cry that same night, the pent-up emotions you had kept hidden from your group.

You wanted to be like them. Perfect, cool, and an amazing performer. You wanted them to think you were perfect, cool, and just as amazing as they were.

Instead, you cried, wishing to wake up as the perfect idol.

You remembered how tight Handong held you, listening to your wordless cries for as long as you needed.

And it hurt more, with as much love and support you received, all it took was for one negative comment to twist your day upside down.

You hated the power that had over you. How it altered your mind for the worst.

And Handong held you tightly in her arms as you sobbed until you were numb and with no more tears left.

“How long has this been going on?”

Her voice was soothing to your ears. Words you never thought you’d hear.

Finally, you thought. Someone willing to listen.

And you told her everything. Every painful feeling and thought you had bottled inside of you for so long. You trust her, of course. And she trusts you, grateful that you felt safe enough to open up to her.

The wars you waged in your mind had come to a ceasefire, even if only temporarily.

-

Minji was the next of the girls to have noticed.

Only this time, you were on a walk together, enjoying the day off while the others had other plans.

It was at a time you felt the most at peace with yourself. You itched to practice and perfect your skills, but at the same time, it felt good to be able to unwind and not have to worry about anything eating you up.

Minji didn’t know certain questions caused you pain.

“What are your goals for this year?”

It was a simple question. Albeit, a question that took some thought, but was meant to be harmless. She was excited about the future of the group, being the leader.

But it gave you a nauseous chill that caused you to stop all movement, clenching your jaw in an attempt to stop the feeling from pouring out of you.

“What’s wrong?” Minji asked, shortly before you began to shake, becoming short of breath and lightheaded.

It wasn’t a spontaneous reaction that caused you to spiral. You did think about your answer.

I have to be perfect. I have to work harder. I can’t take a break or I will have to start all over again.

You were on your day off, alongside Minji.

I have to start all over again.

“Y/N? Talk to me, please. I want to help you.” Minji thought about her words, only then, did she realize the emotional pain you experienced that began to externalize physically.

I may never be good enough.

You yelped, holding your chest as your heart picked up at an unnatural speed.

I will never be good enough, will I?

You were hyperventilating, shaking violently, sweat collected on your palms, and the world around you spun out of control.

Am I dying?

Minji immediately cut the walk short and brought you to the dorms and out of the eye of the public.

At the dorm, after Minji consoled you out of your inconsolable state, you didn’t remember the walk back to the dorm. How Minji worried for you every step of the way, hoping— Praying that you wouldn’t hyperventilate yourself into passing out on the street.

Your eyes were red and puffy from crying, which you also had no recollection of. You were a swirling pit of your own negative thoughts.

-

Yoobin was the third to notice.

She noticed you had been more distant than usual the day after your most recent comeback. While the girls were celebrating and well prepared for the promotion period, you had distanced yourself, picturing the ridiculing comments already, even as an endless sea of encouraging and adoring comments poured in, you could only seem to focus on the few negative ones.

Though the positive outweighed the negative, it was still enough to drown you and that was all it took.

“I’m fine.” A common excuse used by people bottling their feelings to avoid those around them from worrying.

Nothing is wrong with me.

I am perfectly fine.

I am perfect.

I am far from fine.

It was crazy how the weather seemed to align with your feelings.

Clouds burst into droplets to downpours of rain when they got too full.

Crazy how accurate it was to how you would bottle your feelings up so full that they would burst at the seams when it got too much.

You were surrounded by the bottled-up feelings that the sky held. Each cloud representing a different fear, insecurity— Anything that ate away at you bit by bit.

The cold rain drenched you the longer you sat outside, letting it wash over you just enough to simulate drowning, but never enough to actually drown you.

“Hey! You’re going to catch a cold out here!” Yoobin had run toward you with an umbrella, holding it over you, blocking any more drops from touching you.

The thing was, you were already cold. Even inside the heated building, the icy numbness blankets you.

“Are you okay?” Yoobin asked. You both shared the umbrella, the rain pouring down. Only then, did she realize you were crying.

“When will it stop?” The question came out in a mutter that Yoobin had barely heard.

“The rain?” She asked with a shrug.

Only later, did she understand what you truly meant.

-

When Siyeon noticed your pain, she walked past the bathroom door in the dorm, hearing the sounds of your crying.

It worried her and she wondered why you were crying.

It was just a bad day and you wanted to be alone rather than cry in your room where any of the girls could walk in at any given moment.

Siyeon knocked on the door, unaware you intended to be left alone. Even then, you were crying and she cared about you.

She’d have knocked anyway, even if it meant getting snapped at.

But you didn’t snap at her, only ceasing your tears as you sat on the floor of the bathroom, wiping your tears.

“Are you crying? Is there someone I need to beat up for you?” Siyeon asked, acknowledging that the door was locked, and instead sat beside the door to speak to you.

You cracked a smile, small, yet enough to slightly ease the pain in your chest.

“I’m fine, thank you.”

But you weren’t. You were far from fine.

Why do I feel like this?

A question that may never be answered no matter how many answers it all pointed to.

“You don’t sound fine. Tell me about it. Was it someone? Or something?” Siyeon didn’t want to overstep your boundaries, but she knew something was off.

It wasn’t every day that you burst into tears inside the dorm’s bathroom.

When you didn’t answer— Lacking the words to sum up your feelings, Siyeon’s voice seeped through the door again.

“I will be here when you’re ready. Whether your reason for crying is tiny or catastrophic, if it’s something that makes you cry, it’s never silly if it’s hurting you, so please don’t feel silly.”

Siyeon sat on the other side of the door as you covered your mouth, begging yourself not to cry anymore.

Within a few minutes, you gathered the courage to open the door and talk to Siyeon, who listened and tried her best to reassure you.

Even though you were grateful and felt a lot better in the end, you still had a massive lump in your throat that would take a while to overcome.

You just worried that it would take an eternity.

-

It was one in the morning when Yoohyeon found you wide awake, yet exhausted at the same time, sitting on the steps outside.

At first, she thought you were crazy being outside this late at night, her reasoning for being up as well was originally to go and get a glass of water.

That’s when she noticed you outside through one of the windows, sitting and watching the stars in silence and alone with your thoughts.

It was something you had done relatively often, only this was the first time Yoohyeon caught you. She sat beside you, following your gaze toward the sky.

“You’re still awake?” You asked, never taking your eyes off the night sky.

“Got thirsty. What’s your excuse?” She yawned. You smiled, finally looking at her.

“I can’t sleep.”

“Hm… Do we snore too loud or-“ Yoohyeon meant it as a joke, but she stopped herself when she noticed the water accumulating in your eyes, yet hadn’t spilled out.

And thankfully for you, they never did.

“I haven’t been able to sleep for a while.” You confessed, a heavy, shaky breath leaving your lips. “It’s hard to sleep when my mind is constantly telling me to do better.”

Yoohyeon listened to every word you said, with sincerity and concern on her expression as you continued to pour your heart out.

It embarrassed you too, admitting to her how vulnerable you really were. You wanted to be strong.

Perfect. Cool. Amazing.

It hurt as your mind contradicted your wishes.

But she listened. She cared.

Yet, you still felt the pain all the same.

-

You continuously messed up the choreography, exhausted and shaking all over from hours of practicing one part of the dance for the group's comeback.

You previously got it right, every step. But today was different and you weren’t sure why when you had done it perfectly just the day before.

It frustrated you have perfection seemed to come and go whenever it saw fit. It frustrated you how perfection lead you on, only to sink you deeper into the hole you felt stuck in.

Bora and Gahyeon stuck behind with you long after the other girls had left to take care of other obligations or simply just to return to the dorms.

Both girls remaining had opted to help you out, Bora spotting the steps you continuously missed or botched altogether, and took it slower, step by step as Gahyeon offered tips here and there— Which you took heed of, but for some reason, you just could not get the steps right.

How am I going to be perfect if I can’t get this down?

The thoughts came racing back again.

Gahyeon noticed your frustrations with yourself tearing away at you.

Then Bora noticed too when you stumbled backward and fell to the ground from the mental and physical exhaustion.

“Woah! Let’s take a break… Maybe pick up again tomorrow, what do you say?” Bora kneeled beside you, glancing at Gahyeon, who rushed to bring you a water bottle.

“Yes. We can go eat and call it a day.” Gahyeon agreed as you shakily held the bottle, drinking the refreshing water.

“I can’t. I’m not good enough for this.” You gripped the bottle as water sloshed out. On top of that, your voice cracked as the lump in your throat attempted to block your voice from leaving your throat.

“Where is this coming from? You are good enough. You’re more than enough!” Bora frowned, concerned.

Gahyeon took the liberty to hold your hand as you began to cry.

“I’m trying, I promise!” Your cries turned into sobs, the bottled-up emotions spilling out again since the previous time.

Over and over again, like a cloud, filling up until it bursts.

“I know you are. You’ve worked hard enough already. Let’s call it a night. Me, you, and Gahyeon- maybe the others if they are free- All of us go out to eat. You’ve more than earned it.” Bora attempted to soothe you as Gahyeon continued to hold onto your hand.

“And if you want, you can vent to me. I will listen.” Bora spoke with such sincerity that you cried harder.

“Me too. Whatever you need, I— We got you covered.” Gahyeon inputs, caressing the back of your hand with her thumb.

Putting your feelings into words was hard. You never knew where to start and sometimes it got jumbled, lost in translation, and incomprehensible.

And still, you tried. A weight simultaneously lifting off your shoulder while also weighing you down more.

The support you had received around you opened your eyes more and the loneliness you felt inside felt like an odd thing to feel, knowing you were surrounded by people who loved and cared for you.

-

You were anxious. It was the day of the comeback and you had listened to Bora and Gahyeon about picking back up the next day.

When the next day came, you were able to do the choreography again without any mistakes. Day after day, each practice before the promotion period, you nailed the dance flawlessly as a group and individually.

Your hands shook and your heart raced. All of this time chasing perfection, you weren’t sure why you hadn’t reached it yet.

“We’re next!” Gahyeon excitedly announced backstage as the group before you started to finish up their stage.

You took a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves, fearing you would mess up or that your nerves would show through.

“Are you going to be okay?”

“I’m fine… Thank you.”

A common excuse, but you actually began to mean it, even if slightly.

And you were fine. Every doubt you had, every worry, every thought, they were internal. No one else thought you were as flawed as you thought.

Nothing was wrong with you. You were perfect. You had a ton of support and love from family, friends, and fans who —In their eyes— Saw you as perfect.

You were just fine. You were cool. You were amazing.

You weren’t perfect.

You were perfectly imperfect. Everyone was.

And that was okay.

Even in the hole you felt stuck in, pulling yourself out seemed like an actual possibility with the support system you had discovered that had been there all along, patiently by your side until you see yourself the way those around you did.

“Remember, you’ll do just fine. You always have.”

“Thank you. I won’t fail you!” You replied, adjusting your in-ear.

The girls fondly smiled at you, feeling a sense of pride toward you.

“You never have.”

You were cool, amazing, and your own kind of perfect, even if it will take some time for you to accept.

[powerfultenderness]

Dare

Rated: T+

Pairing: gn!Reader/Adrian Chase

Summary: Inspired by [this post ​]: “What would you do if your fave was dared to kiss the prettiest person in the room and without missing a beat they came to you?” 

Warnings: Some smooching. 

Word Count: 2553

A/N: Big shout out and thanks to @pretendfan​ for helping bounce ideas around and for encouraging me after I got critically hit with impostor syndrome while writing this. ❤

[Masterlist]

[Line Divider]

“Well, Harcourt thinks I’m pretty!” Chris bragged with a smug look on his face winking at said blonde.

She rolled her eyes, “that’s not what I said.” 

“Pretty, handsome, same thing. And that makes me the prettiest person here!” 

Everyone protested his assessment. You can’t even remember why Peacemaker started this conversation, but everyone was bored and tired of work and a little fun conversational break was good for morale. 

“Why don’t we just vote?” Leota suggested over everyone telling Chris to shut up. 

You shrugged, “it would prove Chris wrong.” 

Economos agreed for the same reason as you, and Harcourt , admitting only to herself that she didn’t want to be left out, made a show of rolling her eyes, “whatever.”  And Chris was confident he’d win, so he readily agreed. 

Leota tore off pieces of scrap paper for everyone to vote and place in a hastily dried coffee mug.

Once all the votes were cast, she spread them on her desk and attempted to count the votes but…

“Well, that was a stupid idea.” Economos was the first to reply after seeing the names.

“Hey!” Leota sent a weak glare his way.

“Did everyone vote for themselves?” Honestly, why was Harcourt even surprised?

“Hey guys! What’s up?” Adrian just happened to walk in at that moment, still clad in his civilian clothes but no doubt his Vigilante gear was in the duffle he carried.

Peacemaker grinned and pointed at Adrian. “Tiebreaker!”

Everyone groaned again, knowing Adrian would just pick Peacemaker.

“He’s not really an impartial tiebreaker.” Economos started an argument with Chris.

“Uh…what’s going on?” Adrian sidled up to your other side, as you were currently leaning against the desk where Chris had taken a seat. 

You rolled your eyes at Chris before turning to Adrian with a smile. “Oh nothing. Chris is just being stupid again.” “But Peacemaker’s one of the smartest guys here.” 

“See! Not impartial!” 

You shook your head at the argument Economos, Chris and Leota were still heavily involved in then looked at Adrian again. “Go gear up. Harcourt doesn’t look like she has the patience to wait much longer.” He smiled and thanked you before quickly scampering upstairs to change.

“Alright! Drop it, Smith.” “But-”

“And if you ask Vig when he gets back I’m leaving you off of this mission!” “What? You can’t do that! You need me!” “Me and Vig can pick up your slack.” You smirked, especially because Harcourt nodded in agreement. “Exactly.”

“Fine! I won’t ask him!” “Ask what?”

“Nothing!” 

You felt a little bad, Adrian did not deserve to be yelled at by everyone. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll fill you in later.”

Adrian smiled at you again, and not for the first time just seeing him smile warmed your face and made your heart flutter. Yea, you might have had a little crush on the local vigilante, but thankfully no one on the team noticed, or cared enough to comment. For his part, you were pretty sure Adrian thought that you were just a nice person, which wasn’t entirely untrue, it’s just that you were especially nice to him because of that crush.

“Hey, Vig! Truth or dare?” “Smith!” “Dare!” 

“What? I said I wouldn’t ask! I knew he’d pick dare, he always picks dare!”

Harcourt, Economos and Adebayo were all yelling at Chris as he turned to Adrian, “I dare you to pick the prettiest or most handsome person in the room!” 

Adrian didn’t know why the others were yelling at Chris over such a simple little dare, but kiss the prettiest person in the room? That was easy! Always one to follow through with a dare, he crossed the room, ignoring the argument that seemed to get more heated the closer he got to you. He stopped in front of you, and since you also thought he was going to pick Chris, you leaned back out of the way as you had been expecting Adrian to tap Chris or something. 

Adrian meant to simply give you a small peck on the cheek, but when you leaned back, he had to lean forward and over adjusted, resulting in his lips pressing against yours. 

You both immediately froze, your eyes shooting wide open. For some reason he also seemed surprised by his actions and his eyes were just as wide as yours as he, and you, stood perfectly still. 

Although technically a kiss, it wasn’t much of one. The two of you remained locked in place, staring at each other, lips touching but no movement, no anything really. Not that the lack of passion did anything to still your racing heart, or the butterflies in your stomach, or the blush that burned its way from your face to your chest. 

The whole room fell into an awkward silence that stretched on for far too long, until Economos broke that silence with a confused, “what the fuck?”

His question was quickly followed by Chris. “Dude, what are you doing?”

It was at this point that Adrian seemed to realize that you were already leaning back as far as you could without falling over. He quickly pulled away from you, panic flashing across his face as he looked at Chris, “you said kiss the prettiest person in the room!” 

“I said pick the prettiest person!” 

“How’d you even hear ‘kiss’?” Economos questioned.

“Well, everyone was yelling!” 

You quietly cleared your throat, “You think I’m pretty?”

“No!”

Oh! Of course not. You knew he’d made a mistake when he chose you over Chris.

“I think you’re the prettiest. Not just in the room, but in the world. Even though I haven't seen everyone in the world, I don't think there can be anyone prettier than you!" 

Adrian couldn’t help the smile that crossed his face as he answered. From the moment he first saw you he thought you were attractive, sure, but then you giggled at one of his jokes that no one else thought was funny and from then on he made it a personal mission to make you laugh. To him,  you had the most stunning smile and quite the contagious laugh. And when finally you were paired up on a mission, he got to see how incredibly well you handled your weapons, how easy you made it look to fight hand to hand with someone twice your size. He was hooked the moment you threw an uppercut that had a butterfly seeing stars! 

Oh. 

As if you weren't blushing hard enough! Hearing him just casually admit that he thought you were the prettiest person in the world had your stomach flipping and heart pounding in your ears. 

"Really? I just, everyone just thought you'd pick Chris." 

Adrian tilted his head and smiled softly, "yea, really. You're-" Whatever else he was about to say was cut off.

“Ha, that means that Chris lost!” Economos pointed at Chris and started chuckling, prompting the others to join. Even you and Adrian, though the laughter from you two was more nervous laughter than anything else.

Chris, not one used to being bullied, quickly attempted to shift attention back to Adrian. “Yea but did you see how bad that kiss was! Dude! Have you ever kissed anyone before?” 

Adrian's face heated up as he frantically looked between you and Chris. “That’s not! I mean! I wasn’t trying to-”

“Hahahaha! Fucking Thimble! What’re you a virgin too?” 

“What! No! You know I’m not!” Then he looked at you again, eyes still wide as can be, “I’m NOT a virgin!” 

“O-k...” You squeaked out, unsure how to take the information he just desperately supplied, or what to do with it. 

Chris was still laughing at Adrian though and Adrian apparently couldn’t take that. “Dude! You know I’m not a virgin! We had a threesome! You saw me-”

“Ok! That’s enough! We don’t need to hear the rest of that story!” Harcourt stopped his rambling.

“But!” 

It took a lot of yelling and glares from Harcourt for the incident to be forgotten, mostly. Adrian kept looking over at you, and you just knew it had to be because of that little kiss. 

Once all the gear was packed and everyone loaded in the van, Adrian had sat directly to your left, things finally seemed to be back to normal. Until, while the others were caught up in an argument about the music, Adrian leaned over to you and whispered, “I really do know how to kiss. And I’m not a virgin!!” 

You nearly choked on air! At least he had the decency to be quiet about it this time! The way he was so close to you, the way his body heat radiated off of him and the way he lowered his voice to whisper in your ear, had your face ignited in another blush. Still, you plastered on a polite smile, “ok, Adrian.” 

He pouted, “I’m not!” Well now he had everyone’s attention.

“Let’s just focus on the mission.” 

Chris once again started laughing at him, but thankfully before another argument could break out, Economos parked the van and Harcourt started to remind everyone of their roles. 

Things never go according to plan though, and the next thing you knew, you were trapped in a supply closet hoping that the mess of butterflies you managed to escape didn’t find you.

Harcourt’s voice over comms nearly sent you jumping, but luckily you were able to keep quiet. 

“Trapped. No ammo. At least ten butterflies. Northwest corridor.” You tried to give as much information as you could in as few words as possible.

“Oh! I’m close! Be right there!” Vigilante sounded way too eager to run into what may very well could be an ambush. 

Harcourt had the same thought and warned him to be careful. 

In just a few minutes you heard gunshots and running from outside of your hiding spot. A few more shots and Vig was calling your name over comms, “where are you?” You peeked out of the closet and sure enough, every single butterfly was distracted by Vigilante. At this point they were starting to surround him, though he managed to keep them at bay long enough for you to leap out and run to his side. “Cover me!” He shouted once you were near enough for him to toss his gun to you, quickly drawing his sword in one swift motion.

You stayed back and behind him, firing at butterflies out of reach of his sword, and he kept any from reaching you.

The two of you worked so seamlessly together that he chanced a pause while there were still a few butterflies left, these staying back and under cover, presumably waiting for backup.

“I’m actually a really good kisser!” 

You rolled your eyes and sighed, for whatever reason he just couldn’t drop the subject. “Ok, sure, I believe you.”

Maybe you rolled your eyes a little too obviously, because he seemed to think you didn’t believe him. “I swear, I’m not a virgin!” 

“Whatever, Vig! Now’s not the time!” 

Again, he didn’t seem to believe that you believed him. “But-” 

“Just kill those guys!” You finally snapped as you fired on the group, forcing them out of cover and into Vigilante’s blade.

You and Vig were surprisingly the first two to make it back to the van. Adrian decided that since there was no immediate threat that it was a good time to talk. He pulled you to the side of the van before you could even open the door. 

Normally you would have crossed your arms and given him a deadpan stare to let him know that he was acting a little inappropriately. But you so suddenly found yourself pushed up against the side of the van that you were a little lost for words. He leaned in closer, his right arm propped by your head while his left hand ghosted against your hip.

He'd taken off his Vigilante mask and stuffed it in his waistband but hadn't put his glasses on, so you found yourself staring into his bright green eyes with no barrier blocking the intensity of his gaze.

"I never got to finish what I was going to say back at HQ." 

You swallowed thickly, trying your best to calm your rapid pulse. Still, no matter how close he was, or how warm and fuzzy he made you feel, you couldn’t help the mischievous smile that flitted across your face. “Let me guess, you’re not a virgin?”

He actually pouted at you, eyebrows scrunched down and nose scrunched up, lips drawn in a tight line. “No,” he started, but frowned as soon as he answered, mostly because of the little laugh that escaped you. 

A rosy blush spread across his face before he dropped his head onto your shoulder, “stop it! I fuck!” He whined into your neck, sending your heart racing and quieting your little giggle with a silent gasp, at least, you hoped he hadn’t heard how much he affected you.

He pushed closer to you, nudging one of his legs between yours so that his hips were pressed against yours. It was only the padding of his Vigilante gear that kept you from feeling his chest against yours. After a few silent moments, in which you swore the entire world must have stopped just so he could take off his gloves and drop them to the ground, he looked up at you, face covered in an even darker blush. 

He brought a hand up and gently caressed your jaw, slowly bringing your face close to his. “I didn’t get to tell you, that you’re all I ever think about.” 

“W-what?” 

He moved his left hand firmly against your hip, his thumb caressing up and down as if attempting to get under your shirt. “I think about you when I’m at work, I imagine how you’d laugh at all my jokes.” 

You hadn’t even realized your mouth was parted just slightly until his thumb softly brushed against your lower lip. 

“When we’re on missions, I think about how hot you are when you fight.” 

You could feel his breath against your lips as he spoke in a low gravelly tone that had you holding your breath. “I think about you,” he paused and licked his lips, voice dropping to a whisper, “when I’m alone.” 

His eyes drifted down to your lips before sliding shut as he slowly pulled you in for a kiss. It was gentle at first, hardly more than a tentative peck before he pulled away to stare into your eyes once again. 

He wanted to know if you were ok with this. You were more than ok with it. As if a line snapped, the slow deliberate atmosphere turned nearly frantic. His mouth on yours, teeth nipping at your bottom lip as you pulled him impossibly closer with one hand clutching at his chest piece and the other tangled in his hair. 

Soon you were both panting but though you pulled away, his mouth continued to seek contact with you anywhere, your mouth, your jaw, your neck.

“Alright. You’re a good kisser." You gasped quietly, "but that doesn’t exactly prove that you’re good at sex.”

He grinned and once again inched his face close to yours. “Well then maybe I should prove that too!”

[perculiar]

Kinda funny that what my mum’s therapist is saying to her now is what I said to her from when I was like 11

but I find harder to say to her now bc I shouldn’t have been a child therapist to use and ignore intermittently

Instead of “mummy you’re good and kind and so compassionate n care for everyone, pls believe you’re a good mummy”

it’s “you’re a heavily traumatised woman but you did what you could” (what you could, not your best) and “bleeding heart syndrome” (you welcomed so many people in but neglected me in so many ways simultaneously)

It’s yes I can reassure you and praise your right behaviours, positively reinforce your actions and correct your thought patterns (but i can only do so much and i cannot praise you for the bare minimum in everything)

Over why did you sacrifice me and why did you let me near patriarchal offenders unsupervised and why do i have to sit here praising you as you waltz some of my most traumatic memories to recount either the lessons you’ve learned or explanations (excuses) why you allowed it to happen

Sometimes it feels like the same pattern from the time my face got cut open on the door jamb.

You lost your temper and slapped me round the face hard enough to make me spin and fall into the side metal of the door. Then as my face was stinging, maybe bleeding, and i was frozen in ricocheting silence, you crumpled to a heap on the floor of the upstairs landing.

I don’t think I was back in my body until after you’d been squeezing me to you, apologising. I think it was likely my lack of reaction that made us shiver apart so you could bury your head in your hands. I can’t remember if you were saying it, or whether I intuited it, the way you were blaming yourself and saying you were a bad mother.

I just recall I was desperately trying to convince you you weren’t. Accidents happen and I’m ok and I’m sorry I was bad and I won’t do it again and I love you mummy you’re my favourite person don’t cry its okay I’m sorry I love you

Don’t know how that one ended. I think I was around 6. Maybe younger. Clumsy in my chubby handed petting and reassurance.

The things we remember and the things we forget ey.

Funny how just a couple of years ago you were telling my nephew you never hit us as kids. He didn’t believe you and looked to me. You were affronted when I said that that was just not true, then after you pressed and I cloaked some examples in vague recollection, you conceded. it was like watching you remember.

Maybe you don’t have access to some of the memories I do. Maybe I presume too much in that.

Fully aware how trauma + memory loss works, after all.

[perfectpaperbluebirds]

Sicktember #9

Prompt: White Coat Syndrome

Fandom/OCs: Jurassic World (Claire and Owen)

Words: 1700

Inspiration: None

Author’s comments/background: Set before the events of the first Jurassic World movie, a few days after the last fic I wrote for this fandom (read it here if you want). I know this isn’t a super popular fandom, but as I said before, it’s one I know well and can write easily. And guys like Owen are the perfect whumpees in my opinion. 

~~~***~~~

Claire wasn't sure what led her to go check on Owen that evening, except that she had a hunch he might need some help. The Monday after their strange “date”, he didn’t show up for work, and after some digging, she learned he had called in sick. A man like Owen Grady, born and raised in the military, doesn’t call into work for a cold, or for anything short of being near death. He hadn’t been well on Saturday, but it hadn’t seemed like anything alarming. Had he worsened over the rest of the weekend?

Going completely against her character, she actually left work early that day. “I won’t even leave in time to make sure I get dinner at a decent hour, but I’m leaving early to check on some random guy. What does that say about me?” she muttered to herself as she drove over to his bungalow. 

It looked much the same as it had two days prior, though today it had an almost deserted feel. With some trepidation, Claire mounted the steps and knocked. It took several tries before he answered, and when he did she regretted not texting ahead like she’d considered. He was an awful mess, looking sicker than anyone she’d ever seen. He was sweaty and disheveled, and he sagged against the doorframe as if his legs couldn’t hold him, yawning and shirtless and dressed in athletic shorts. Behind him his house was dark with all the blinds drawn, so she couldn’t see what lay beyond. 

“Claire?” he croaked, squinting into the afternoon sunlight, though he stayed as far back from the light as he could. “Whadt are you doi’g here?”

“I heard you were still sick, so I came to check on you. I’m glad I did, because, wow, are you looking horrible. Are you… okay?” 

“I mbean… I’ve been bedder. I wouldn’t have called in if I wasn’t sigck as hell.” He coughed wetly, proving his point. “Did you cumb jusdt to see for yourself, vouch to the bosses thadt I’mb ndot playi’g hooky? 

“I came because I was worried about you. I wanted to make sure you were taking care of yourself. Can I… come in for a minute?”

Owen ran a hand through his tangled hair. “I mbean… thadt’s really ndot ndecessary. I’mb fide. But I guess suidt yourself.” He stood aside to let her brush past. 

“I can see from here that you’re most certainly not fine. You said it yourself, you wouldn’t have called in if you were fine. Here, sit. Or lie down if you want. I’m sorry I got you out of bed. Can I get you anything?”

“Ndo. I told you, I’mb fide. I’mb… I’mb handli’g idt.” He gingerly lowered himself to the couch and lay back as he spoke, pressing a hand to his forehead as if in pain. 

“Nothing? Not even a glass of water? I can run to the store too. Whatever you need.”

“I guess sumb water. Budt you really don’t have to stay. I don’t wandt you to catch this.”

She ignored him and fetched him a tall glass of ice water. He sat up awkwardly, drinking down the liquid as if he hadn’t drunk anything all day. The way the fever sweat was pouring off him, she guessed he probably felt like he hadn’t. She’d brought a clean, dry cloth back with her from the kitchen and sponged off the sweat from his face and neck as he drank, then pressed her palm to his forehead. He was roaring with heat, much warmer than he’d been only a few nights before. He groaned softly as he leaned into her touch. 

“Damn, I should’ve brought a thermometer,” she sighed. “What hurts? You have to have some sort of infection with a fever like that.”

He shrugged, stifling a cough. “Mbainly jusdt mby head. I’ve had the worst splitti’g headache since yesterday. Mby ndose, I guess. Jusdt totally plugged up.” 

“Is there green mucus when you sneeze?”

“Umb… yeah,” he mumbled, embarrassed. 

“And your headache is here?” she gently touched right between his eyes. He nodded miserably, pressing the ice-filled glass to the spot as he squeezed his eyes shut. 

“Sinus infection,” she said, nodding sagely. “That means antibiotics. C’mon, I’ll drive you to the doctor. I don’t trust you behind the wheel, since I’m sure your head hurts too badly to see straight.”

Owen made a face. “I’ll jusdt ledt idt run idt’s course. I’mb ndot goi’g to the doctor jusdt for a cold.”

“Sinus infection,” Claire corrected. “And yes you are. It’ll take weeks to clear up on its own, if it ever does, and you’ll get worse before you get better. Trust me, the doctor is what you want.”

“Ndo, I really don’t. I’mb fide withoudt,” he insisted, and this time Claire thought she saw a flash of fear in his eyes. 

Claire raised her eyebrows. “Owen Grady, are you afraid of going to the doctor? You are, aren’t you!” she answered herself when he shook his head mutely, his eyes wide. “You’re not afraid of raptors, but you’re afraid of people in white coats?”

He sighed, then coughed wetly, glancing away. “Adt least the raptors would kill mbe fasdt. Doctors poke and prod you until you die a slow, paindful death instead. I had enough of thadt in the service.”

“You’re being ridiculous,” she said. “It’ll be a short visit. Just in and out to get a prescription. And I’ll be with you every step of the way. Consider it a second date. We can even get food after, if it’ll make you feel better.”

She had definitely piqued his interest upon mentioning a date, but she saw him continuing to war internally. “You’re sure I ndeed mbedicine?”

“Pretty certain, yeah. And you can’t tell me you aren’t wanting something to help you feel better faster.”

He shrugged as he looked up at her again, and all she saw was nervousness, which when paired with his visible illness made him seem incredibly boyish. “If I go, you’ll stay with mbe?”

“The whole time. If that’s what you want.”

He thought for a moment, then nodded slowly. “Thed I guess I’ll do idt. Since I can tell you’re ndot goi’g to ledt idt go.”

“Nope, I'm not. So I’m glad you’re being reasonable. Do you need help getting ready?”

She saw a flash of the old, roguish Owen then. “Are you offeri’g?” he asked with a smirk.

“You know what, forget I said anything. You go ahead, and take as long as you need. But try to not collapse while you’re naked, please. Neither of us wants that.”

“Yes mba’am,” came the slightly deflated response.

~~~

The urgent care visit and subsequent pharmacy run were unremarkable. Owen was a ball of anxiety the whole time, fidgeting and agitated. He was brusque and borderline rude to the nurses, even though most of them were very pretty, and Claire watched this transpire with curiosity. The telling moment came when they were taking his blood pressure and pulse, though. 

“Those are both pretty high,” came the verdict from the nurse. She looked at him seriously. “And you're not on any blood pressure meds. Other than your respiratory symptoms, are you feeling okay?”

“I’mb fide, like I keep telli’g everyone. I jusdt don’t wandt to be here,” he spat. 

A look of understanding crossed her face. “Oh, so a case of whitecoat syndrome, then. Got it.” She made a note in his chart, and nothing more was said about it, though Claire gave him a playful nudge when they were alone to try to lighten the mood. He mostly ignored her and stared at his feet, shivering in long sleeves and sweatpants and looking utterly pathetic. 

She could tell he was more than relieved when they pulled into his driveway after all was said and done, and beyond exhausted as well. It seemed like he barely made it to the couch before collapsing, burying his face into a throw pillow. 

Claire bustled around, setting things down and fetching him water and medicine as she listened to him sniffle and cough endlessly. Finally she perched on the edge of the couch and rubbed his back to get his attention. He turned to meet her eyes, his own heavy-lidded and fever-bright. 

“Just take this medicine and drink a glass of water, and then I’ll let you sleep,” she promised. 

He took the items and did as he was instructed before settling down again. Claire continued to stroke his back for a bit, and his eyes slipped closed under her touch. After a few moments she stood and stretched. 

“Are you leavi’g?” he croaked, opening his eyes as soon as her hand was gone.

“I guess so. You should get some sleep, and so should I. It’s getting late.”

His face fell. “Oh. Okay.”

“What? There’s nothing else I can do for you right now. We got everything you need at the pharmacy. There’s no reason for me to stay.”

“Can you… adt leasdt stay until I fall asleebp?” he asked, boyish and shy again. He wondered if he was doing that intentionally, because it was very effective. 

“And why would I do that?” she asked, leaning against the doorframe, echoing their exchange from a few nights prior with a smirk.

He clearly remembered, and smiled back. “Idt’s jusdt… you prombised you’d be with mbe every stebp of the way. The ndight’s ndot over yedt.”

Claire shook her head, still smiling. “So I did. Okay. Until you fall asleep, then.”

“Will you rub mby bagck again? Thadt feldt so good,” came the final congested request. 

“Give an inch and he asks for a mile," she laughed. "Fine, scoot over a bit, then.”

Owen eagerly complied, closing his eyes again as soon as Claire resumed scratching and rubbing his back. 

“Do you thingk you’ll cumb bagck tomorrow?” he asked sleepily after a few moments. 

“Maybe. We’ll see. If you play your cards right.”

“Thed I hope I gedt the besdt damn hand ever.”

Claire smiled to herself, and so did Owen. In fact, he fell asleep with a smile on his face. She kept rubbing his back, though, and didn’t move for a long time. 

[gladiator-gladiolus]

My prejudgement of the engage cast: Solm edition

Like I said before, this is as of before I venture into chapter 4 this time, so obviously I don’t actually know ANYTHING about anyone except what I’ve accidentally absorbed through fanart. This is all purely based on their appearance and the vibe. I’ll reblog with what I actually think of them after I’ve finished the game, or have sufficient enough exposure to them

(^_−)−☆

(These are probably really harsh, I have unleashed my full prejudice)

Fogado

Sylvain and Yuri’s personality love child

manwhore (but respectfully)

Looks like he has committed numerous war crimes and does so with an irresistible smile, 10/10 would do again, 5 star review on yelp

Knows how to emotionally manipulate you

Can dance really well but won’t tell anyone

a very good leader

Charismatic as FUCK

knows his people well and they love him

has a fanclub

Is known to prank people

sexy and he knows it

I’ll either be in love with him and won’t admit it or I’ll be completely immune

Pandreo

What is going on with his hair???????

ngl im kinda into it though

Has “goes to the same hairdresser as Lorenz” syndrome

Really mean but everyone is into it

Gay but is almost homophobic about it

would kick a child and call it character building

Has another male character he is shipped with religiously

the red flag everyone ignores

obnoxious pretentious little meow meow

I’m going to absolutely adore him

pretends he knows everything but actually dropped out of school at the age of 9 months

Bunet

Chivalry isn’t dead personified

excuse me hi, yes, my name is micromanagement supreme

Probably a Nationalist

Comes across as a jock at first but is actually extremely skrunkly dunkly

His work is his life

would rather the world be shaped into a cone and everyone slide off the face then see his friends hurt

Would rather be dead than not feel useful

In a modern Au would be obsessed with guns and holding dead animals

his parents are silly :(

is trying to further his reputation for 60% of the game

accidentally adopts one of the younger characters

is actually a bit of a nobody

Timerra

If you sucked every inch of optimism out of the world and concentrated it in one place, this is what would grow legs and emerge

Social butterfly

Comes across very confident but is actually really insecure

Is an only child

Tends to avoid reality

Shockingly the most religious out of all Solm characters

either extremely childish or overly mature with responsibility issues and there’s no in between

Kins Pinkie pie

Merrin

Wears winter clothes in the height of summer and visa versa

Tell him to bring a coat and he won’t then will blame you when he gets cold

is probably a girl that I mistook for a boy

Wants you to think he shops at hot topic but can actually be seen buying neon vests in the rave shop

Goth but the heart’s not in it

“I dOnT nEEd fRieNds, tHeY diSaPoiNT mE”

Quiet and reserved

Takes a long time to think about things but when he gets back to you on that, it’s going to be the best idea you’ve had the pleasure of hearing

Has a strong sense of self worth

was abused by his dad

Seadall

no, Navarre isn’t my twin brother why would you say that?

while you were busy buying body pillows, he studied the blade

Is a martial arts genius

If you’re not talking about combat, get lost

One of the most morally grey people you’ll meet

Is a sword for higher but would probably do it for free if you said please

noble gone bankrupt

Has a cruel master he has weird sexual tension with

the one Merrin looks up to

Man of no words

a woman I’m mistaking for a man

Panette

I saved the worst for last

not the clown but the whole circus

the quiet kid (trademark)

edgelord

who am I kidding, I’m just jealous because she’s way cooler than me, I’m going to end up loving her to bits

Super slay makeup so is super slay in all aspects of life

doesn't take life too seriously

just go with the flow

Likes causing people pain

favourite film is probably final destination

likes the smell of dead bodies

in reality cares about the well-being of others too much

doesn’t care what anyone thinks of her

the most mentally stable in the entire game

has a weird obsession with marionettes

Solm will most likely be my favourite but right now I’m in denial

[neerbear]

Congrats on hitting over 500 followers! I’m not sure if you’re still into genshin, but if you are, could I request zhongli with his dragon form? If not, could I request a happy songxiao with a qing? Have a great day, and congrats!

Thank you so much! While writing this, I'm almost at 1k, I'm so grateful that so many people find my work appealing and want to stick around!

I am very much still into genshin! I just haven't drawn it in a while... I tried to do BOTH of your requests and it sent me into a spiral so here's EVERYTHING I did for this lmaoo

here's the speedpaint so you can watch me suffer with this. I started recording with full confidence that this would look great - it did not.

the actual drawing

THEN, I started on the SongXiao + a-Qing idea and I kept feeling like my art wasn't all that good anymore (standard artist things) so I tried doing a little challenge - drawing wangxian and songxiao with different faces (aka anti-same-face-syndrome). I had a whole video for this but the audio got corrupted and the video didn't make sense without it so I'll just quickly write down my thoughts.

LWJ & SZC - I wanted them to be slightly similar, so you can tell they are parallels for each other, but different enough that you can tell they're not related.

WWX & XXC - the same thing, I wanted them to be obvious parallels but different enough.

LWJ - since he's in his 30s, I wanted him to have a mature face, I wanted to keep the sharp eyes + side eye that Wang Yibo had in the drama, I imagine him having these sharp shaped eyebrows, straight nose and downturned lips.

WWX - I imagine his shape language to be a triangle, so I gave him a pointier chin, I gave him the dimple he had in the drama, I imagine him with thinner lips and upturned nose.

SZC - I imagine him with more mature features, a square shape language. I imagine him with hooded eyes/monolids, a more hooked nose (idk the correct term, not a native english speaker), fuller bottom lip and strong adam's apple.

XXC - his shape language is full on circle in my eyes, he's just such a soft soul, so I gave him a softer jaw, a rounder nose and eyes, and I kept the upturned corners of his lips bc I think SJY's smile is adorable.

After proving to myself that I CAN, in fact, draw, I started on the actual request. The first thing I did was completely ignore what I just learned LMAOOO

and here it is! I'll also be reuploading it as a separate post later, but this is the full journey here!

[chargetheintruder]

This, in a nutshell, is the problem.

Read the article.  It might be a bit tabloidy but read it.

https://www.yahoo.com/news/ohio-man-kills-neighbor-because-204600966.html

It isn’t just Nancy Pelosi or her husband.  A SIGNIFICANT NUMBER OF PEOPLE BELIEVE LIBERALS AND DEMOCRATS AREN’T HUMAN BEINGS.  This is a piece of what’s called “stochastic terror.”

https://www.yahoo.com/news/stochastic-terrorism-appears-rise-globally-215511411.html

In plain English, “stochastic” is a statistics term referring to loading dice, or using a tool to tweak the odds in your favor.  Stochastic terror acts happen when lone-wolf types have the use of a Force Multiplier, like the Mass Media, or the Internet, to both get bolder in their tactics, and to get better organized and equipped than usual.  The guy who went after Nancy Pelosi and got her husband instead?  Was led down a pristine, untouched and unanswered path of dehumanizing Democratic people, by his choice of Mass Media, then empowered by Social Media on the internet, most likely, in terms of resources (getting zip-ties, making plans, getting transportation and locating people).

Some on Tumblr would call this “radicalization” but it goes deeper: who bought the zip-ties?  Who doxxed the Pelosi household, revealing a street address?

THIS is the face of the enemy that we face: he’s a punk-bitch hellbent on life-hacking his way into attacking us at all cost and any price.  Sure, there’s more we could have done with the 2022 midterm elections, to try to keep the alt-right the hell OFF OF the Ballot Boxes, for example, but making those too hard to find also makes them too hard for VOTERS TO USE.  Trying too hard to get things off of GPS and to make them non-doxxed also means the resources can’t be used by those legitimately wanting to use them to vote.

And in truth, this shouldn’t even be happening.  This whole Abuser Party/Victim Party dynamic has no business happening.  Trump/Traitor Party abuses “them libs” and Democrats, and we just go limp and take it.  Why is that?  Why don’t we retaliate, ever?  It’s not like soft targets don’t exist among the alt-right: QAnon are a bunch of soft little nerds and wannabe Karens, by and large.  Actual Guy Fawkes wearing Anonymous are so scared of being exposed that they don’t dare do anything violent.  WE have access to the same force multipliers they do.

Well, it’s simple.  For starters, too damned many people adhere to an ineffective and outdated Kennedy/Gandhi mentality when it comes to politics.  Meaning they swear by the “non-violence is the ONLY answer” dogma, when historically speaking?  Uh, no, non-violence is non-action against fascists, racists, misogynists, anti-labor union shits, and cultists.  If you are not violent against the abusive or threatening?  You either get ignored (because you’re out of reach at the moment) or you become the next victims.  Non-violence only works against rational people who know you’re human.  Not against sociopathic sorts who insist you’re an animal to be put down.  You know, like that Fucker Carlson on Fox News, or indeed ANY QAnon freak ever?

And for enders?  This has been a bad habit of mine as well, as an abuse survivor, so I know what I’m talking about here when I say this, fuck some loser and their self-authored Wiki page.  A LOT of us, from Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez on down, suffer from post-traumatic stress reactions, from having survived real-life abuse and bullying and domestic violence. What this means is that a lot of us have over-extended stress reactions.  Our fight-or-flight reactions go too far and no, your average cognitive behavioral therapist REFUSES to touch this--their de facto cult refuses to admit that anger, or the fight response, even exists.

And this becomes a critical issue that resembles Stockholm Syndrome when you consider the fight-or-flight response actually goes FOUR ways, not two: Fight, Flight, Freeze, or Fawn (a.k.a. Pander, Suck up, or Suck it down).  Too many of us abuse survivors have an over-extended Freeze response (we go quiet, freeze up, shut down and “wait it out” when actually we’re a clenched knot of nerves) and more of us have an over-extended Fawning reaction (we keep trying to reason with or pander to our abusers well past the point of little to no returns, we keep talking and smiling and praying inside that they won’t HIT again).

Does ANY of this ring a bell?  Is anything I’m saying making sense here?  Bullies can smell fear in their victims--human sweat changes during a fight-or-flight response.  When we HAVE a fight-or-flight reaction, everybody who is out  to fuck us over can SMELL the shift to ecchrine sweat (distress/arousal sweat) from down the hall in a large building.  Stress sweats are just that--from stress, and temperature, and humidity, have nothing to do with them.  No really.

No really, you haven’t lived until you have been in a psych ward, for a crisis, and been accused of being an alcoholic by Staff when you’re having a stress sweat because a) the bastards keep waking you and everyone else around you UP every fifteen minutes, and b) the last THREE new clients admitted after you showed up, ended up being grown-ass men having violent breakdowns. Fun times.  My mother died from alcoholic diabetes and emphysema, and I DON’T drink, fuck y’all very much.

Sorry to sidetrack, but the point is, they know.  And in their eyes, our rightful distress marks us as prey and less than human.  And we neither can nor should have to ditch the trauma just to pander to fucknut Trumpist Nazis.  Which means we have to INVEST in self-defense at minimum, if not openly consider organizing ourselves for retaliation purposes.

Stochastic terrorists need their asses kicked by stochastic patriots, is what I’m saying.  We need to do better for future generations, and that starts with doing right BY OURSELVES.