#the bats and birds knew something changed

[flamingpudding]

Substitute City Ghost

Clockwork had a plan. Their young king needed to learn how to take care of people without the kind of hero like fighting he did in Amity Park. There was a lot to learn for the young halfa and his king classes could only cover so much. Thus he had found a plan that would give his king the perfect learning expirence while also helping out his recently new friend. Well not that new since his friend was quite an old ghost of their own. But he had only recently made direct contact with her.

Lady Gotham was an old and powerful ghost. Born from the beliefs of her city and strengthened by the once living and protecting it. But she was stretching herself thin. Managing her city, helping the dead find their way, looking out for the shades, and protecting the weaker entities, was already a lot of responsibilities for a city ghost. But Lady Gotham has added more to her plate, supporting those that protect her city. Mortals that she called her knights. Aiding them by controlling the shadows, guiding those that need help toward them, or the other way around, guiding her knights to those that needed help. She was strong, but even a ghost like her could grow exhausted. His friend needed rest and recharge. Surely Lady Gotham wouldn't say no if he invited her to a vacation to the Realms, and in that same invitation, he would direct his king to his new hands on training.

The bats and birds knew something was different about Gotham lately. It was strange and slightly unsettling. The change felt like it had just happened overnight. They were suspicious, wondering if they were sensing one of their rogues planning something big. Jason and Duke appeared to sense it the most.

At first, it didn't appear to be too big of a problem, but then strange things started to happen. Their rogues started tripping over, seemingly nothing. And if that wasn't enough it appeared like their rogues were a whole lot more inattentive to their surroundings. Now the Bats and birds were good at sneaking, but they had human limits. Yet there were times they snuck up on them like they weren't even seen.

Dick swore that one of the goons had stared at him and didn't see him, even though he had tried to pull the tap their shoulder and greet them before punching them act. The guy had turned around and stared at him before looking around like no one was even there until he punched the guy anyway.

And that wasn't even the weirdest part. Bullets, throwing knives or anything aimed and thrown at them never hit their marks. Not for the lag of them dodging but for the things they were sure they shouldn't have been able to react in time for. Tim espacially had pointed out that a bullet should have hit him once but it never even graced him. Yet when he checked the place after the arrest. There had been a clear bullet hole in the wall where he had been.

They weren't sure if it was a blessing or a curse. They had even tried to get a member of the Justice League Dark to look into it. But strangely enough Constantine had refused to even set foot into Gotham for once, and even insisted that the other do not either.

To say that Batman was not amused would have been a very big understatement. The man was brooding. And of course Dick had to jinx them too. The eldest bat kid had to mention that it at least wasn't getting worse.

And don't you know it. It got worse. Like weirdly alarming strangely worse.

Because, how else would you define it when you're in the middle of a briefing with your patrol partner for the night when suddenly a Lazarus Pit look alike portal opens below your feed swallowed you up and the freaking drops you into the middle of a crime scene or mugging.

It was only thanks to their training that they were able to react quickly enough after a bound of disorientation. But fuck did that gave them all a good damn heart attacks when that happened the first time to Damian of all people.

Something was definitely wrong with their city. Thankfully they had some sort of hint, because the first time the Pit portal happened to Duke, he claimed that he saw a white haired figure right before it had swallowed him hole and spit him out at a bank robbery.

Danny was honestly believing he was doing a good job as substitute city spirit while Lady Gotham was enjoying her vacation. Sure , he still had trouble with some things, but he was sure he was getting the hang of the whole supporting the cities vigilantes gig Lady Gotham had going on. The whole managing the shades and the dead spirits was still up in the air, though. But at least he had figured out a way easier way to guide the vigilantes towards the once that needed help.

Now he just needed to figure out what was wrong with that one guy in the red helmet and he was sure that both Clockwork and Lady Gotham would be proud of him and how he had managed her city during her vacation.

[phantom-0-writer]

Nightwing's car guy

Dick was doing well to establish himself in Bludhaven. He had an apartment, it was shitty but it was his. He had a day job as police officer, half the people there were in the cartels Nightwing was trying to crack down on, and the other half were in the cartels Nightwing was still trying to trace. He had his suit, still bat-grade, blue instead of the red, yellow, and green Jason got to wear now.

He did't have a cave. Or maybe it should be a nest because the whole bird thing. Burrow? What was the thing owls lived in called? The point is he made due without it. He had his apartment, and he had his supplies stashed away. It wasn't as much as in the Cave, but he didn't have Cave-funding. He could make due.

He didn't have an Oracle in his ear. But that came with the added bonus of not having a Bat either. He could do his own research, find his own information. And it wasn't like he and Babs were totally cut off. It was just only a little weird, because she was technically his ex. Sure she would be in his corner, but she was still his ex. He needed to save some face. Especially since he knew that Bruce and Babs liked to... talk. He could make due.

The only thing Dick was maybe, sorta, just maybe having a little trouble was with his bike. Well it wasn't his bike, it was Nightwing's. Which was precisely the trouble. He'd found a place to stash it, but Dick had never been a car guy... or in this case a bike guy. He would chase his rouges, speeding through the streets, and sure the bike was made for the tight corners and quick turns and the high speeds, and sure it could take a hit or two. But what about three or four? Or five?

Point was Dick needed a car- a bike guy. One that was cheap (he was only a cop), and knew how to not ask questions and keep his mouth shut (again- Nightwing's bike). All that on top of knowing enough on how to fix his bike. (it wasn't exactly the type you could find in store).

But the solution seemed to find him. Which Dick was aware was not generally how it worked, but he would count his blessings. He had been out on patrol, the type that had involved his bike and high speeds. Unfortunately it did not involve the perp in handcuffs and on his way to jail. Dick had been on his tail, could've had him too, if the bike hadn't started sputtering. Dick had done as much as he could for it, but she really needed a pair of eyes that actually knew what they were looking at.

Mumbling curses to himself, Nightwing had been ready to head off to at least catch a dust trail of what operation he'd find himself in next. He could feel the eyes watching him. His hair stood in edge, and when Nightwing turned to look around he couldn't see anyone. Maybe he was being haunted. Trying to arrange his bearings, Nightwing turned back around to get on his bike. When there was suddenly a mop of choppy black hair couched down next to it.

Nightwing blinked at him. How had he managed to get there? "Uh, something you need, man?" Nightwing asked the boy, totally not freaked out.

The boy- teen, he was only a year or two younger than Dick- looked up, large blue eyes staring. As if it was odd for Nightwing to have addressed him. It took him a moment longer to realize that the bike was, in fact, Nightwing's. "You need to change your [important engine part]." He pointed lamely, standing up to his height of only a hair shorter than Dick.

"How do you know that?" Nightwing asked before he could think of the danger the unknown person might pose.

"That's why it was making that sound. It'll put too much pressure on the engine so it won't be able to go as fast it would be otherwise. Which, I take it, would cause you problems." he tipped his head in the direction the rouge had run off in.

Nightwing considered it for just a moment, not wanting the perfect opportunity to get away from him. "Do you know how to fix it?"

The guy looked almost offended, "Yeah."

"I'll pay you." Nightwing jumped at the opportunity, "If you fix it."

Any normal person would've said no to a guy dressed in bullet-proof spandex with a blue bird on his chest and a weird mask. "Sure." He shrugged easily, a glimmer of excitement in his eyes as he eyed the vehicle. After a moment, "Name's Danny, by the way. You'd probably need to know that." Danny eyes his suit, "Who are you, like, blue-jay?"

"Nightwing." He corrected easily, his name hadn't made the streets yet.

"The Robin reject?" Was Danny immediate response, eyebrow arched up in amusement.

"The what?"

Danny grimaced, the laugh never leaving his face, "Ooh, sorry. Touchy subject?"

"I am not a Robin reject." Dick couldn't tell this civilian that he was Robin. Had been.

Nightwing's bike ran better than it had since he had moved to Bludhaven after Danny had gotten his hands on it. And Danny's payment of ("i don't trust ur money, just buy me food") lunch had been a steal in return. Maybe next time they should go somewhere a little nicer.

Because the bike was doing so well, after Danny fixed it.

Not for any other reason.

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

The safety on his gun was turned back on with an inaudible click as Jason let the tension leak out of his body.

It wasn't often that someone broke into one of his safe houses, especially one that he hadn't used in a while, so seeing as some of his silent alarms went off he raced over ready to put a bullet in some wannabe robber or maybe a goon sent by another crime lord trying to start something.

Instead he found a prime bat adoption bait sitting in the living room floor, bare stomach pressed to the side of a ginormous egg. It didn't look like any egg hed ever seen either with midnight blue fuzz covering the whole thing. "Hey kid."

The kids head whipped around, startled by a strangers voice. "Who are you?" He asked incredulously, hugging the monster egg closer to himself, "How did you get in here? This place has some serious security."

Jason gave a short laugh, "Yeah, I know. I'm the one who put it there." He watched with mild amusement as the color drained from the kids face.

"You're the apartment owner? I thought he was supposed to be some big scary crime lord!"

"I'm not scary to you?" It wasn't uncommon for people to be intimidated by him. He was, as Steph put it, 'built like a fridge'.

The adoption bait stared into his eyes for a few torturously long seconds before simply saying, "No."

Huh.

"So, whats up with the egg?" He asked, trying to change the subject.

"Thats my line, Todd." A voice said from across the room. Both him and the little intruder snapped there attention to the window where Robin was perched. Jason fought back the urge to chastise the little bat for using his real name seeing as he was out of costume at the moment. After all he was here as Jason Todd, normalish civilian man who came to see why his house was broken into, not Red Hood. Jason almost wished with was some goon working for a big bad even if it would have meant his secret identity was busted, he would have been at least dealing with that instead of Damians inevitable animal custody battle with the kid. Speaking of which.

"Hey kid, whats your name?"

"Danny Fenton." The kid-Danny, tilted his head. "I think."

Robin raised an eyebrow, causing his mask to sift with it, "You think?"

Danny nodded, "Yeah. Got blasted with something a few weeks ago and I don't remember much before that." His grip on the egg had loosened a bit and Robin chose this as he time to strike. Bird boy tried to lift the egg up out of the intruders impromptu blanket nest, but seemed to have misjudged the weight of the egg that was as big as both children's torsos and Danny was swift to take back his egg.

"What do you think you're doing?! Thats mine!" Egg dad hissed.

"Tt. I will be better able to care for the creature. You should just hand it over now. Do you even know whats in there?"

"No! Neither do you!"

Jason knew Robin couldn't refute that so he chose now to step in, "Where did that thing even come from?

He watched as Dannys scowl turned into a beaming smile as he told them about how he was hiding behind a dumpster for warmth when this egg just fell out of the sky and with quick thinking, managed to catch it with a bed of ruined pillows from a recent villian attack. "So you can't take my dragon egg away. I'm the only reason it didn't become a failed street omelet." Danny held his hands on his hips while giving Robin a smug look.

Before the demon brat could say anything or, more likely, try to wipe that smirk off the other kids face, a new person swooped in through the window. "You think its a dragon egg?"

The kid seemed unbothered by the Batman questioning him and just replied with, "Yeah! Look how big it is! Its gotta be a dragon!"

Bruce looked like he was about to have an aneurysm, "You found a large egg of an unknown, potentially supernatural creature and decided to incubate it?"

"Yeah!"

Jason decided he liked this kid.

[wandixx]

Ghost of fries and Hero of cookies part 2

All work words count: 14 593

Words in this part: 1 794

Summary of whole work: Duke wasn't expecting to wake up from his quick rooftop nap to some meta kid with fries. He also wasn't expecting kid to stay Or Danny asked Dani to stay safe while she was in Gotham. Where would she be safer than under the wing of local hero? And he looked like he needed bad day combo anyway

This part summary: Of new names and teasing

Beta read by @audhumla-sailor though English is second language for both of us, so proceed with this in mind. I also know all of the charaters through fics alone, so probably ooc. Stay catious if it's something you don't like

First part

Duke knew that Dani was in their agreed meeting point, he even vaguely knew where she was floating but not much more. She used her invisibility, which was weird since she knew it didn't work correctly on him. It was fifth time they met, of course they knew. 

"Hey Signal, remember how you said that I need a codename if we're going to hang out in future and that all my previous ideas were horrible names?" a disembodied girly voice asked. Duke smiled. Ever since he raised the idea, the girl would come up with ridiculous names to be called, proposing them with absolutely straight face. It was expected from someone who thought Dani Phantom was a good alias. It didn't make her ideas any less amusing.

"Of course I do. Whatcha got for me today?"

"Alright, since you don't let me be a name stealer, I decided to take a sheet from local nightlife's notebook–"

"You mean take a leaf from their book?" He was sure she was rolling her eyes on him, but it didn't stop him. No one could maim English language like that with him around.

"Whatever. I chose to steal their idea and became a bird. It's only fair since I can actually fly!"

"Can't exactly disagree. So, what did you get this time?"

"You'll like that, I promise. But now, I introduce to you…"

Duke got ready to shut down every Robin iteration and all Birdgirls he could think of.

"HOOPOE!" Dani yelled, popping back to the visible spectrum. She was covered in bright orange cape with weirdly shaped hood and flimsy mask "I even did some costume changes to fit the name better–" in all honesty, one, yeah, he wasn't blind he realized, two, he needed a moment to remember how these birds looked (his first thought was 'wait it's a thing?!'). But then he got it and yeah, those were funny little creatures, just like Dani. It fitted her "–so even if you don't like it, it doesn't matter," she added, sticking her tongue out.

Duke patted her on the head. He was there, he knew it mattered.

"It's a great name Hoopoe"

Dani visibly though probably unconsciously, relaxed. Her mouth curved into a proud grin and her aura brightened. Normal auras didn't do that. He got used to Dani surprising him like that sometimes.

"Of course it's great, I made it."

Duke chose to not remind her about almost two dozen times she came up with absolutely not great names or about the fact that technically she didn't quite make this one either. He wasn't in such a petty mood. Maybe in future if he needed blackmail.

Oh, it was such a Bat thing, wasn't it? He needed to spend some more time with his civilian to get it out of himself, he liked his ability to interact with normal people in a healthy way. 

*

"Wait, is your mask a paper?"

"What else could it be, titanium?"

"If you stop three muggings on the next three patrols each I'll get you a better one, okay?"

"Hey, my mask is perfectly fine"

"Yeah, but it can tear too easily. I can get you a mask that is more sturdy."

"Aha."

"It's the same material every Robin and Nightwing wear…"

"Don't care, my mask is flawless"

"..."

"Okay, better mask would be cool"

***

On the third patrol Dani joined, about a week and a half ago, they exchanged numbers. Duke knew how hard it was to come to terms with new powers on one's own and God strike him with a lightning or something if he ever lets anyone go through similar bullshit. Especially since she didn't seem to have anyone taking care of her. Girl her age shouldn't be able to hang out or respond to messages within ten minutes at any given time. Only twice she didn't do that, because she was on a celebrity hunt for autographs as she later explained. He would be teased endlessly if any Wayne or their associate learned about it, but he considered introducing Dani to Bruce. She needed help, okay?! He didn't inherit adoption tendencies.

But he hadn't done that, partially because he didn't want to scare Dani off and partially because of fear of teasing. And bet. Because of course in the meantime somehow there happened a bet. 

He smirked at the video Dani sent as a response to the hydration check. She was tossing a coin and playing an elimination game to pick one juice from eight drinks she had. Steph jumped over the back of the couch to join him. At the start she was in front of him so to do that she had to run around the furniture but such minor inconveniences couldn't even wish to stop her dramatics.

"You're smiling at your phone ergo you either text your secret girlfriend/boyfriend/enbyfriend or watch memes. Show me the memes," she demanded, nudging him in the arm. Duke chuckled.

"Wrong guess. I'm texting my sidekick," they agreed it would be a funny way to introduce Dani to people who asked. Duke tried his best at this whole having sidekick thing anyway. As well as he could without help from other Bats because of this damn bet.

Steph froze for a moment.

"Your what–"

"And the lucky winner is… an apple with mint juice! Damn I really hoped it would be lemonade,"  Dani from the video announced cheerfully before opening the bottle" Shame it didn't make it past semi-finals. Happy hydration break. I'm going on an autograph hunt so I may not respond for the next two hours or so. Wish me luck, bye~"

Duke paused the video before it replayed. He glanced at Steph who finally rebooted.

"How come you got a kid and I learned about it just now?"

“In my defense I'm like 60% sure you're the second person in the family to learn about her. Depends if Tim got his ‘I have to know everything, gotta check body cams’ paranoid spree in the last two weeks or not. There was no teasing from Babs or anyone else if I'm being honest and no lecture from B, so they have no idea.”

“First was Alfred?”

“First was Alfred. I still don't know how.”

“That's our grandtler for you. You are forgiven but you have to tell me everything about her,” Steph demanded excitedly. “And show me the photos''

Duke snorted.

“She goes by Hoopoe and is about Damian's age. She can tell you her real name when B inevitably finds out and tries to interrogate her.”

“What if Spoiler drops by during the day?”

“You can try but give it another week and a day, okay?”

“Why?”

“We have bet that I'll hide her from B for three weeks. Tomorrow is the end of the second week. We both know how he is, he'll have questions if you randomly show up during the day."

"Stakes?"

"Speedster worth of winners favorite Batburger meal, 2 quarts of chosen drink and cookies"

"Valid. I ain't snitch, but I want to know more. Is she a meta?”

"Yeah. Powers I know of are invisibility, intangibility, superspeed, enhanced hearing and flight. Probably more. I think she already had some training with it because she has quite amazing control over this stuff. Like, it comes naturally to her. But her hand to hand is atrocious."

"Are you jealous?"

"No."

"Omg, you totally are! Don't be, she is just a baby with a better idea of what's going on with her powers than you have with yours. There is nothing to be mad about Duke, it's okay Duke–"

"Keep going and I won't tell you anything about her," he dared, trying not to snort. 

"Sorry, sorry, you're doing great, please continue," she nudged his arm again "Don't be such softie, dude" He stared at her at the comment, disbelief clear on his face. Steph at least then looked a little ashamed "Okay, sorry. You're honestly doing far better than any of us would. Excluding Cass and Alfred."

"Excluding Cass and Alfred," he agreed easily enough.

"So, you think your kid has some training with her powers," she recalled eagerly.

"Yeah, probably from when she was helping her cousin. He is a hero in Amity Park, Illinois, his name is Phantom. It took very little digging even though Hoopoe does her best to stay mysterious. I swear this kid has no brain-mouth filter. But! I got my second shovel talk from her cousin!”

“The what?”

“After a week of hanging out with her, I got message on Signal’s twitter from Phantom that basically read as ‘I have nothing against you, really dude I’m a fan but here is list of my most powerful enemies, and let me tell you, there were some scarily powerful guys there, I won with all of them, if something bad happens to Hoopoe I can and will destroy you.’ After some research, yes, I think he could try and have considerable chance of success. Even if he didn’t fight would be painful enough to be a lesson. He and Hoopoe have the same powers and she worked with him for some time. She most likely learned then. She was called Dani Phantom, boy went by Danny Phantom then”

“Dear gods, their aliases were so horrible, who even let them go with it?! Are those their first names?!” Steph sounded genuinely offended by it.

“I don’t know,” Yeah, he knew, but he preferred to keep at least this secret to himself ”In boy's defense, because Hoopoe came much later,  he was fourteen and Amity went to shit really fast, so alias was probably not his first concern. And it’s much better than Invioso-bill, name he was given by the press. And he uses some intense gaslighting to make people believe it’s just Phantom now. And allegedly they’re both ghosts. Apparently ghosts don’t exactly have secret identity”

“You doubt it”

“You would too. She eats, she breathes and she is tangible by default. From what I know, ghosts don’t do that”

“They don’t, I checked. I went on a research spree when I first learned about Deadman. I just thought it was so cool you know. Ghosts being real and all,” Steph leaned towards him, almost vibrating with anticipation.

“Really?” he asked, knowing what he was getting into.

“Yeah, you see…”

And on she went, releasing expected infodump as if she waited for this opportunity ever since she first read about it.

********

Some additional name getting shenanigans

Signal: I won't call you Dani in the field

Dani: Why?

Signal: Ever heard of secret identity? Name is, like, half of it. Disguise is other half but it can be exchanged with lore. Superman made it work. Just make up enough lore for people to not question it.

Dani: Oh, okay *gremlin^2 mode activated*

Random they just rescued: And who are you little one?

Dani: *looking them dead in the eyes* I am clone of dead child hero, travelling around the world to find identity separated from my template befre mistakes made during my creation make me turn into puddle of primordal liquid and my conciousness fades forever

Random: *petrified* What?

Signal: *internally* I have miscalculated

Dani: Kid Signal

Signal: No.

Dani: It works in Central

Signal: We're not in Central

Dani: Signalgirl

Dani: I mean, Batgirl exists

Signal: No.

Dani: Monochromatic Signal. Y'know, Red Robin route?

Signal: ...

Signal: Just no. Don't make my name part of your name

Next part

Do you want to see some Hoopoe doodles I made? There were redesigns!!!

[metalhoops]

Read Part 1 Here

As small and unassuming as Eddie’s trailer was to others, it had always been his fortress. It was the last stronghold against the forces of evil, and the bastion of all things metal and macabre. It wasn’t much, but it was undoubtedly his. When you grew up with little, you clung to what you had. 

He’d come to Wayne’s at an age when the world had begun to haemorrhage magic, leaving a realm devoid of colour in its place. His uncle worked hard to stoke the flames of his creativity, buying or borrowing what he could to keep Eddie’s dreams of castles and kingdoms alive.  

He’d spent a small lifetime buried in tomes of fantasy and mythology. He’d whiled away afternoons flicking through books that let him choose the story, always managing to die before finding the right ending. As a child whose mother died young, it was nice to live in a world where death could be undone. 

Eddie managed to cling on to that last spark of childlike wonder into his early twenties. His childhood had been a landscape inhospitable for the companionships of knights and the trickery of wizards, yet he’d made it work. That kind of alchemy didn’t fade easily. 

Yet, with Chrissy’s death tainting his memories of the trailer, he understood his fortress, his kingdom, was nothing but rubble and blighted soil. He was Frodo, returning to The Shire after the destruction of the ring. Eddie’s Undying Lands came in the form of a small bungalow on the edge of town, paid for with government hush money. 

The place wasn’t much larger than the trailer, yet it felt vast in the late hours of the night when Wayne was working and Eddie was alone. They’d only been in the house a week. He still felt as though he were in hostile territory. He sat on his bedroom floor with the curtains half-drawn. 

He’d spent the past half hour drawing them open before pulling them shut. If they were shut, the place looked deserted. People would be less likely to try to peer in, but he wouldn’t be able to see if someone or something was coming. If he left the curtains open, people would be able to see in. Eddie told himself he was being paranoid until he watched a pair of headlights flicker in the distance down the isolated road. 

Eddie was quick to action, darting into the entrance as a knock sounded on the front door. He grabbed a box cutter from the pile of unpacked boxes and peeked through the keyhole. You could never be too cautious, not when half the town thought you were a murderer. 

Standing in the doorway was Steve Harrington, the former king of their ever-changing kingdom, looking lost and worse for wear. His hair, a Harrington point of pride, as good to Steve as a crown to a king, was a sodden bird's nest perched atop his head. Though that wasn’t all. One of his arms hung naked at his side. Steve hadn’t managed to pull it through his polo, leaving half his skin exposed, the other half covered in poorly wrapped bandages. 

They’d both been hurt by the hoard of bats, but Steve's injuries eclipsed Eddie’s. Something about that fact sat wrong with him. It was as though he’d stumbled upon a wrong ending. He wanted to turn back and find a story where Steve was safe. Eddie dropped his makeshift weapon and swung open the door. 

“Steve? Christ man, you’ve seen better days,” Eddie spoke, ushering Steve inside, locking the door behind him. 

“I’ve had worse.” 

Steve, like Eddie, appeared changed from what’d happened to them. He hadn’t known how to explain it. Most of what he knew about Steve Harrington was mythology, a collection of stories which changed depending on the teller. Yet, all those close to him, far closer to him than Eddie, had agreed something about him had changed. This Steve was a broken bone set wrong. Something about him always appeared to ache. 

Buckley had hauled up in the Harrington manor with him after they were released from hospital, helping tend to his wounds and wash his perfect hair. She’d confided in Eddie when he had come to check up on Steve that he was forgetting things. 

Perhaps forgetting wasn’t the right word. Robin spoke five languages, yet she couldn’t find the term to describe what was going on with Steve. He seemed out of place, like a sour note in a once sweet melody. 

Maybe it was one concussion too many, Robin had justified, which was a collection of stories shrouded in contention. How many concussions had Steve had? Nancy swore Jonathan hadn’t hurt Steve badly during their fight. He’d been able to run away, after all. Jonathan admitted he probably had. 

The kids all agreed Steve was knocked out cold after his fight with Billy while Robin recounted what’d happened in Starcourt. She’d later confess Steve had other concussions before Jonathan, though wouldn’t elaborate on their origin. Some stories only hurt the teller. Eddie had learnt how to read negative space.  Occam’s razor told them it was the easiest explanation, but to Robin and Eddie, it didn’t feel like the right one. 

Steve talked about things that’d happened weeks ago as if they’d occurred to someone in another life. Then there was the way he looked and spoke to Eddie. Every time he’d show up at the Harrington’s front stoop, Steve would look at him as though he’d risen from the dead, shook off the grave dirt and stumbled back into his life.

He had the feeling Steve was always seconds away from telling him something important, but he too, didn’t seem to have the language to convey it. When they stood together in silence, as they did that night in Eddie’s new fortress, he felt as though he almost understood. 

“What brings you to my humble abode, Harrington?” Eddie asked, trying to keep his eyes from Steve’s exposed side. 

“Mostly pride,” Steve admitted with a humourless laugh, ushering to his side, inviting Eddie to look. He did. 

“I told Rob to go home for the night and uh...” Steve cringed as he tried to lift his hand up to pull it through his sleeve. Eddie stepped closer without meaning to. 

“Shit, hold still. Don’t rip your stitches again or Buckley’ll hand my ass to me on a silver platter,” Eddie grumbled. His hand twitched, wanting to touch. Steve took a step forward, inviting him to. Eddie hesitantly brushed his fingers over the gauze, examining the bandages. 

“When did you last change these?” 

“Two days ago,” Steve admitted, leaning against the wall, trying to keep his balance. Eddie cursed under his breath, grabbed Steve by the wrist, and guided him to the bathroom. 

“You don’t have to change ‘em. They’re pretty gross,” Steve protested. 

“Which is exactly why I have to change them,” Eddie argued as he help Steve slide onto the bathroom countertop beside the sink. 

“I’ll get Robin to do it tomorrow. She didn’t throw up after dissecting a frog in junior bio.” Eddie groaned and scrubbed his face with his hand. 

“Didn’t know that was public knowledge, great.”

“Not many people knew. I just... we were in biology together.” Eddie knew they weren’t. 

He knew every class he’d had with Steve Harrington, much to his chagrin. They’d had gym, history, and Spanish together. Like shiny plastic to a crow or jewels to a dragon, Steve always managed to capture Eddie’s attention. He’d like to blame it on the fact he found Steve attractive, but there were a handful of other hot jocks who made Eddie want to shove his hand in a blender. Steve had always been different to him, though he’d managed to keep his affections close to his chest. It’d never do him any good. 

Steve had a habit of rewriting their mythology. Eddie had noticed him doing it often as a way of explaining away little things he’d have no right knowing, by fabricating new pasts. That was a piece of Steve’s new persona, which was reserved only for Eddie. 

He wasn’t sure how to broach the topic. He liked Steve. Hell, the more the two got to know one another, the more Eddie thought he could love Steve, but their relationship felt like an empty hallway in a horror film. It was devoid of any real threat, but it felt as though something was lurking just out of view. 

Eddie blamed his feelings of love for the strange gravity between them. Occam’s razor. He wanted to kiss Steve. He didn’t know what Steve wanted. That caused tension. 

“Why did you come here? I mean, don’t get me wrong, Stevie. The door’s always open,” Eddie said as he peeled back the bandage. 

He felt Steve stiffen and moved one hand to rest on the boy’s thigh. Steve’s hand covered his, lacing their fingers together and surprising Eddie. He tried not to look too closely at the wound. He found their first-aid kit and got to work, squeezing Steve’s thigh each time he pulled the bandaged taught. 

“I miss you,” Steve said, once more sounding seconds from another confession Eddie knew wouldn’t come. 

“I haven’t gone anywhere, dude. I saw you yesterday.” 

Steve muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like, 

‘I used to see you every day.’ 

Another past that’d never happened. A reinvention. To make matters worse, Eddie wanted to believe in that past. He wanted Steve to tell him their story, the one that lived only inside his head. Eddie would follow it. He’d do anything to stop the boy from looking so lost. 

“Can I do something weird?” Steve asked, and all Eddie could do was nod. 

Steve hooked his arm around Eddie’s neck, pulled the boy into the space between his dangling legs, and buried his face in Eddie’s hair. Steve’s hands balled into tight fists in Eddie’s shirt fabric, holding him so close he felt his bones creak like wooden floorboards underfoot. 

“You don’t have to miss me, sweetheart. I’m right here,” Eddie assured, feeling the need to do something, say something to make everything better. Steve’s grip tightened.

“Do you ever feel like we’ve been here before?” Steve spoke, his voice muffled by Eddie’s skin. 

He knew the answer Steve wanted. He couldn’t in good conscience give it to him. 

“No,” Eddie confessed. 

“But I wish we had.” 

Steve pulled back so the two could get a better look at one another. Unable to help himself, Eddie leaned forward, trying to smooth down his hair. 

“When you were seven, you scraped your knee so badly you walked with a limp for half a year and ever since you’ve hated the sight of blood,” Steve spoke, not daring to look at Eddie. 

He felt his whole body go stiff. His hand in Steve’s hair froze. He was right, but Eddie couldn’t understand how he knew. He’d moved to Hawkins when he was twelve. His life before that was a mystery to the town. 

“How?” Eddie began, but Steve wasn’t finished. 

“You do that thing when you’re nervous. Yes, that thing you’re doing with your hair,” Steve observed. Eddie had taken a string of hair between his thumb and forefinger and half hidden behind it. 

“And when you’re flirting,” Steve amended. Eddie’s brows drew together. 

“Which you do with me, a lot. Took me forever to work out that’s what you were doing but give me enough time and a good enough thump to the head and I’ll realise it, eventually.” 

Steve knew Eddie liked him. Shit. 

“Took me even longer to realise I liked you too, but everything’s kind of screwed now, isn’t it?” Steve asked, his humourless, dry laugh coming back. 

“Because every time I’m with you, I miss you. And I know that makes no goddamn sense, but I do.” 

Eddie tried to unpick what Steve’s words meant, but he kept coming up short. Steve liked him. That much Eddie gathered. It was enough to send his stomach plummeting into his boots. 

“Tell me what you’ve gotta tell me, Steve. I’m a big boy. I can handle it. Get some of that damn weight off your shoulders,” Eddie mumbled, placing a hand on Steve’s shoulder and rubbing circles into the spot as though to prove a point. Instead, Steve looked at him with a crooked grin and uttered,

“Like Atlas, right?” He hadn’t picked Steve as a mythology geek. Eddie felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end, as though he were seconds away from putting it all together.

“We’ve had this conversation before, haven’t we?” 

“Not exactly, but almost.” 

“Then why the hell don’t I remember it?” Eddie questioned, his voice growing strained. 

“I don’t know. You never do. It doesn’t matter, it’s over.” 

“What’s over Steve?” 

“I’d ask you if you really want to know, but the answer is always yes,” He grumbled, nudging his face against Eddie’s hand. 

Steve took a deep breath and told Eddie everything. He spoke about Eddie’s death, about being stuck in the same day for hundreds of repetitions. He told stories of Eddie’s death while brushing over similar terrors. Eddie knew he was getting a sanitised version of the tale, but still, he understood why the boy was haunted. He couldn’t imagine what he’d do if he were in Steve’s place. 

Stories, where death could be undone with a simple flick of the page and another binary decision, were easy. In practice, with hundreds of little choices and thousands of ways things could go wrong, it seemed more akin to a nightmare. 

“When you said you missed me,” Eddie breathed after a moment.

“Which version of me do you miss?” Steve’s brows pinched together, looking as though he’d been asking himself the same question. 

“I don’t know. I think, shit. I think I miss a version of you that never existed. If that makes sense. I miss what I thought we could’ve been when everything was over. You’re alive. I’m alive. It was supposed to be easy after that.” 

Eddie gave the boy a sad smile and nodded. To Steve, trapped in a never-ending cycle, Eddie had been his kingdom. He’d been a land to defend and a safe haven to return to. Yet, he’d wanted himself to be the same wide-eyed hero who’d left the empire, not the jaded veteran who’d returned home from war. They could never be the uncomplicated love story Steve had told himself to get through the days, but that didn’t have to mean things were ruined. 

“Hey, Stevie? What’s your favourite movie?” Eddie spoke, causing Steve to really look at him for the first time since they’d started speaking of other timelines and death. 

“Star Wars... The one with the teddy bears. Why?” Eddie got a goofy grin on his face, wondering how the hell someone who’d had the reputation Steve once had could love something as nerdy as Star Wars. 

“You know a damn lot about me. Time we even the goddamn playing field.” Steve nodded and gnawed on his bottom lip. His eyes trailed down to Eddie’s lips. He didn’t have to know Steve well to know what he was getting at. 

“Can I kiss you?” He questioned, his hand already tangling in Eddie’s hair. 

His thumb ghosted over the space between his ear and jaw that always made his breath hitch. Steve knew how Eddie liked to be touched. That was a new revelation. 

“We’ve kissed before, haven’t we?” Eddie questioned, Steve’s breath hot against his face. 

“I haven’t kissed this version of you before,” Steve supplied with a smug grin. 

“No fucking fair. You have the hometown advantage,” Eddie reasoned, and Steve let out a shocked laugh, a real one this time. 

“You’ve never made a sports reference before.”

“So they’re surprises in me yet,” Eddie beamed, sick of the anticipation, he leaned forward and pressed their lips together. 

The kiss was long and desperate. Steve clung to him, kissing him breathlessly, making Eddie weak at the knees. They had to pause when Steve let out a sharp inhale as Eddie accidentally grabbed his still-healing side. He muttered a slew of apologies, peppering Steve’s neck and jaw with kisses. He hadn’t shaved in days and Eddie felt a good kind of ache from the scrape of stubble against his jaw. 

When they finally pulled apart, the two looked decidedly more dishevelled. Eddie caught his breath and whispered, 

“You know, I’ve got Return of the Jedi on tape in a box someplace. You could stay over and we could... I don’t know, re-get to know each other,” Eddie proposed. 

“I like the sound of that.” 

[envysparkler]

early bird

Jason might’ve had a homefield advantage when it came to Crime Alley, but he was under no impression that the streets he remembered as a child were the same as they were today.  Hell, even the streets he’d patrolled as Robin wouldn’t be the same.  If he wanted to take over, he needed to get the lay of the land—where the gangs were, who was calling the shots, who was unhappy about it.

And where the Bats were.

The Red Hood was going to make his big debut after he knew who all the players were.  Right now, Jason was skulking around in all-black gear, armor on, armed with blades instead of guns.  He didn’t plan on killing anyone.  Not yet.

But Jason felt uneasy almost instantly.

The whole city seemed to be holding its breath, the way it did after a major Rogue attack.  Jason had kept up with news of Gotham’s freakshow gallery, and there had been nothing for months.  Plenty of crime, but the big name players were lying low.  There should be no reason for people to act like they’d just gone through a fear toxin outbreak.

Jason was feeling very uneasy indeed.

The first inkling he had that something was off was the goons on the street.  While the gangs in Crime Alley changed territory like a penny changed hands, Jason had gotten used to seeing a few familiar faces.  Now, there were no familiar faces, only full-face masks and a lingering sense of malaise.

The second clue that something was wrong was the aftermath of destruction.  Gotham was a shit place for infrastructure at the best of times, but usually there wasn’t rubble lying on the streets, cordoned off by tattered tape, or gutted-out hollows of burnt buildings.  It looked like a full-scale war had erupted on the island.

And the last thing Jason needed to finish the creeping sense of something’s not right was the glimpse he’d gotten of Batman on patrol.  The Dark Knight swung through the air like a wraith and where Jason looked immediately for red-green-yellow—Replacement, target, how dare he take what’s mine—he found nothing.

No brightly colored shadow.

No joyful laugh.

Nothing but darkness.

Something was very, very wrong.

~#~

It took Jason a couple of days to figure out what had happened.  No one wanted to talk to him, not the semi-stranger nor the cloaked figure all in black.  Jason finally had to bare his face and find one of the working girls he’d known as a kid.  She’d been happy to fill him in, though she’d used a hushed voice the entire time.

A gang war in Gotham.  Boundary lines drawn all over the place.  Some loser calling himself the Black Mask and the False Face Society taking control in an awful five-day wave of violence and brutality.  And then…well, then the story got a little confusing.

No one had seen Robin since the incident.  Batman had apparently gone feral.  Black Mask was in prison with several broken bones.  Nightwing had showed up, permanently if the outrage from Bludhaven was anything to go by.  Word on the street was that Robin was dead.

Jason didn’t know whether to be pleased or not—the pretender was gone, but Jason was supposed to be the one to do it—when his train of thought was abruptly derailed.

“It’s just like last time,” rasped a girl with a too-old-for-her-face stare.  “Robin croaks it, Batman goes cuckoo.”

“What,” Jason said.

“The Bat was scary last time,” another girl shivered, hands rubbing her arms.  “You know he put Johnny in the hospital for trying to take some bread?”

“Hope he picks up another Robin soon,” muttered a girl with a resigned expression.

“No, Stella, you know they’re children, right?  How could you even say that—”

“Look, either we give the guy in a bat suit his emotional support child endangerment, or Batman’s going to become just as bad as his villains.  Who’s going to watch this city if everyone’s a freak?”

Jason slipped away from the group as the girls all began bickering, arguing over whether or not Batman needed a Robin, if Robin was even human in the first place, if they should just pack up and leave.  He didn’t want to listen to a fiercely indignant woman call Batman a child abuser while a darkly resigned one just shrugged her shoulders.

For some reason, when he’d made his own arguments, he’d felt…unique.  Special.  Like he was the only one who could see the truth.  Now—now he was remembering Gordon’s pinched face every time he saw Jason with an injury, all the news reporters that called Batman the worst thing that had happened to Gotham, the comments from Leaguers uncomfortable with child heroes.

Jason wasn’t entirely sure when he’d switched sides in the debate.

~#~

It took another week before Jason spotted Batman again.  His patrols were all over the place, no discernable pattern to them, but when he heard rumors of a planned bank robbery in the Diamond District, Jason knew where to go.

He arrived and found a nook on the rooftop across the street to watch the action.  Sure enough, Batman and Nightwing showed up moments after the alarm was tripped, and Jason watched them take down the would-be robbers.

Batman didn’t look crazy, his movements were as swift and economical as ever as he dismantled the operation, engaged the leader, and began punching him in the face again and again and again.  Jason stared, frozen to the spot with more than shock as he watched Batman pulverize a group of robbers for the crime of breaking into an empty store.

Nightwing secured his opponents and moved to intercede, trying to get between Batman and his victim.  Batman ignored him, and when Nightwing laid a hand on his arm to get him to stop, he flung the other vigilante back so hard Nightwing nearly stumbled into the street.

Nightwing didn’t move to intercept again.

Batman stopped when the man was no longer twitching, and dropped the body where it was, turning on his heel sharply to exit the scene.  Nightwing watched him go, and Jason could see the way the younger man crumpled in on himself as Batman walked away.  Hand over his face, Nightwing slowly went after him, every line of his body screaming of exhaustion.

Robin croaks it.

Jason’s breathing had gone tight and shallow.

Batman goes cuckoo.

In the back of his head, something was laughing.  Isn’t it a great joke, it said between giggles.  Isn’t it the greatest joke of all?

[farity]

Old Friends

Pairing:  Aemond Targaryen x reader

Summary:  Someone from Aemond’s past triggers his wife’s temper

Warnings: Smut

She was in a mood.

Aemond had asked her before dinner if she was bothered by anything and she’d waved off the question, but when she hurled the delicate chain studded with gemstones across their bedchamber, he knew that there was something lurking under the polished surface she presented.

When he sat down to dinner and saw who their guests were, he knew instantly what it was.

Or rather, who it was.

Two of the Baratheon daughters had broken their travels at the keep on their way to the older girl’s wedding.  He’d merely nodded at them across the table, well aware that although his wife’s eyes were fixed away from him and her lips were curved in a sweet smile, she would know every single thing he did.

His mother was carrying on an extended conversation with the bride, and then her sister, Floris, turned her gaze over and settled on him.  

And then she smiled at him.

Aemond felt the immediate change in the woman sitting next to him.  The woman who wore his colors, who shared his bed, who wore the sapphire encrusted ring that signaled she was his.  She did not need to move or say anything, and her smile never wavered, but he knew as he knew his own name, that her temper had just been ignited.

Her hand, the one with the sapphire ring, came to rest on his thigh, unseen to everyone, and she continued to smile and nod while poor Floris Baratheon, completely unaware of the turn her fate was taking, kept glancing at him.

As he took his cup of wine, her fingers slid between his thighs, moving higher until her palm rested against his already hard cock.  He knew this mood of hers, knew she would have to stake her claim to him in whatever way she could, and also knew that part of him delighted in her unfounded jealousy.

His brief betrothal to Floris, a matter of a few days, had been crafted due to a need for allies.  

And then he had met her. 

Her family was descended from an old Valyrian bloodline, one with a lavender tint to their hair and he had been fascinated by the pale lilac lashes that framed her bright grey eyes.  Her mind was as sharp as his, her determination and her hunger for learning, fascinated him as she slowly and completely took over his every thought.

That night she had gone to his rooms and Aemond had taken her to his bed, and taken her maidenhead without a single regret.  In the morning, still wrapped around each other, he had forgone his training and his books for the sweet silkiness of her breasts and the heat between her thighs.  

“You are betrothed,” she had said eventually, standing naked before the looking glass to fix her long hair.  He had walked to up her, already considering how to break the betrothal to the Baratheon girl, and she turned to him.  “It matters not.  You belong to me, and I am meant to be yours.  I knew the moment I saw you.”

He had known, too.  

And now she was sitting next to him, wholly in possession of his heart and soul, seething because some girl he had briefly been meant to marry was making eyes at him.

Her hand squeezed him gently as she leaned over to exchange pleasantries with his sister and his breath stilled.  

He wanted to tell Floris to stop looking at him, for her own sake, but if the girl was so stupid as to bat her lashes at him when his wife was sitting next to him, maybe she needed to know the meaning of consequences.

His wife laughed at something Helaena said, a sound that reminded him of bells and bird songs, as her hand began to cup and squeeze his cock, slim fingers wrapping around him, and he couldn’t help but spread his legs further apart.

“Lady Floris,” she said suddenly, and his heart jumped into his throat as she gave him a particularly strong squeeze.  He nearly moaned, and canted his hips to push into her hand.

“Um, yes, Your Highness.”  Floris looked from him to her and back to him.  Stupid, stupid girl.

“I understand you are acquainted with my husband.”

The table fell silent, despite his wife’s sweet smile and honey-tinged words.  

“Well, um, yeah, we were, uh, briefly, um-”

“Betrothed.”

He could see the flush creeping up Floris’s face, the nervous smile on the girl’s face.

“Yes, Your Highness.”

“Hmm.”  She ran her fingers along the head of his cock, around the sensitive tip, and he wondered what Floris would think if he unlaced his breeches and impaled his wife right at the table.  The thought pleased him, and the next time her fingers ran around his cock, he discreetly grabbed her wrist.  “Are you betrothed to anyone else right now?”

Floris’s cheeks darkened.  “No, princess.  I am not.”

“Wife, I would speak with you.”

She turned to him, murder in her eyes and a smile on her lips.  “Dearest, I was speaking to-”

“Now.”

The grey in her eyes flared with threatening specks of lightning.  “Of course, beloved.”

He pulled her hand off him, glad for his long jacket, and dragged her down the corridors until they reached their bedchamber and he could slam the heavy door shut.

“Am I to understand that my brilliant, delightful wife is bothered by a dimwit like Floris Baratheon?”

“She should know better than to keep glancing your way, Aemond.  I will not tolerate this disrespect.  She needs to know her place.”

Aemond grabbed her arms, pulled her close.  “And you, wife, do you know your place?”

* * * * * 

Your mind immediately conjured up scenarios of what your place was.  On top of Aemond, riding him until your thighs burned.  Beneath him, his hips slamming against you with a frenzy only you could sate.

But right now, you decided on a different option.  You sank to your knees and began tearing at the ties on his breeches.  You had felt him grow impossibly hard and your mouth watered just thinking of having him in your mouth.

“Fuck,” he whispered, looking down at you.

You took him in your hand, licked your lips, and took the heavy head of him in the wet heat of your mouth.  He moaned, his hand tightening in your hair for a moment before it turned into a caress.

Your head bobbed, taking him deep in your throat as you raked your nails down the back of his thighs.  Working him hard and fast, taking him to the brink of orgasm before you pulled off.  Aemond nearly stumbled back as you stood and began undoing the laces on your gown.

He pulled off his tunic and shoved down his breeches, and the moment you were naked, pulled you back down onto your knees.  “This is where your place is right now,” he muttered.  “You have tormented me for far too long, I would know the delights of your clever mouth.”

You raised an eyebrow, cupping your breasts as you sank back down.  “May I touch myself?”

He held the side of your face.  “You may, but do not come.”

Grabbing his hips, you took him back in your mouth, smiling to yourself when he cursed in the ancient language you both shared. Your tongue swirled around him, traced the sensitive underside and his hips pushed against you.  You moved one of your hands to begin stroking yourself, the sounds Aemond was making feeding the need inside you.  

The taste of him made you moan, and you slipped two fingers deep inside you, finding them woefully inadequate compared to Aemond’s magical touch.  Frustrated, you took him as far down your throat as you could manage and then slowly hollowed out your cheeks, dragging your tongue along his length until you felt him grab your hair.  

“Enough.”

You smiled innocently as he pulled you up to standing.  “Sometimes I think you have been sent from the very center of the seven hells to torment me,” he muttered.  “Thinking I care a whit about that idiot girl.”  He dragged you to the side of the bed you shared.  “Hands on the bed.”

“Aemond, I was merely-”

“Silent.  And if I have to ask again, you will severely regret it.”

You placed your shaking palms on the bed, fingers digging into the heavily embroidered covers, and he pulled your hips back.  He spread out your feet with his own and drove inside you with a sharp thrust that had you biting down on your lip to stop yourself from crying out.

“To waste one fucking minute of your brilliant mind on such things,” he added, slamming his hips against you.  He ran one hand up your back, a delicate caress compared to how hard he was fucking you, and you whimpered, the deliciousness of your coupling and the sweetness of his hand on your back turning your mind inside out.  He would always let you know he was in control, always give you a sign that he would not forget himself and hurt you, not even by mistake.  

Every thrust drove you deeper towards the edge and you began to push your hips back, needing the release.  He continued stroking your back, pushing your hair to one side, caressing you so gently that you felt a swell of love in your heart.

“Aemond,” you panted, and in response, received a hard slap on your ass.

“I said, silent.”

You continued pushing back against every thrust and felt your thighs start to shake.  You were not going to last long, and then you felt his clever fingers between your legs.  Arching your back, you began rocking against his touch, needing just a little more.  Aemond leaned down, his chest against your back, and he sank his teeth into the flesh at the base of your neck.

Your moan became a scream as you came, your body struggling to take the overstimulation, the sting of his bite and the curling of his fingertips adding to the feel of him inside you.  The lashings of pleasure tore through you until you simply let go, safe in the knowledge that Aemond would catch you.

* * * * * 

He felt her give in to the release, the tension leaving her body as she simply surrendered.  He loved her for it as much as he loved her for her kind heart and her sharp mind.  For loving him as he was, for helping him put the pieces back together.  Even for being jealous of some girl he had long ago forgotten.

He held her as he gave in to his own release, sank his face into her hair, and then put her on the bed.

When she opened her eyes minutes later, he was caressing her hair and pressing gentle kisses to her temple.  “Aemond,” she whispered, smiling softly.

“My beauty,” he kissed her nose.  “My own heart.”

She let him fuss over her, kiss the bruises already formed on her hips and the already fading bite marks on her neck.

“I am well, Aemond,” she said finally, running her toes along his calf before she kissed him.  

He took her hand, kissed the delicate skin of her wrist.  “I will always make sure.”  She curled into him, tucking her head onto his chest.  “Are you cold?”

When she shook her head, he pulled the featherlight cover over her.  “Sleep, my love.”  He held her, kissing the top of her head, until she fell into a quiet slumber in his arms.  

* * * * *

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[storiesbyrhi]

Witch!Reader x Bat/Vampire!Eddie Munson Series Masterlist The Grimoire

Warnings: canon typical violence, horror genre typical violence, swearing, no beta, warnings updated each chapter.

Synopsis: No witch has stepped foot in Hawkins since 1845, but when Vecna opens the ground and poisons the town, a voice begins to call to you. Have you been brought back to this cursed place to heal the townspeople’s wounds, to save a hexed bat that always finds its way to you, or to redefine your history with a reunion 150 years in the making?

Chapter Summary: A voice calls to you.

Author's Note: Set around two weeks after the ‘earthquake’ and is canon-compliant except there is no Eddie in 1986. This fic takes a couple of chapters to get going, so stay with me. I am SO excited about this, and I think you will love where it goes.

1986

The colony screeched and swooped, taking off into the inky dusk sky with graceless chaos. Each bat had stretched their wings and dropped from their forest dwelling to join the trilling and flapping. Only one remained.

He perched high in the treetops, an unwillingness to join the others that was not typical for a bat. Impossible for a bat, depending on who you asked. He observed the night grow darker with an entirely unnatural sense of understanding.

Eventually, he would fall from the branch and join the others in the hunt for moths and wasps, beetles and bugs. The hunger would drive him to it, yet the hunger could never be satisfied. It had been like that for one hundred and fifty years.

He was the oldest in the colony and couldn’t remember being young. He couldn’t remember reveling in warm nights or cicada season. He felt as if he had always haunted the forest and always would. He felt, and that was the problem.

The other bats did as all Eptesicus fuscus did. They were born into a colony around April and spent a month nursing from their mothers. The pups grew up, hibernated in the winter, mated, and bared the next generation, ultimately living a short life, just shy of a decade at best.

This bat did not. He did not hibernate alone or with others. When they found warmth and shelter in dilapidated buildings, under tree bark, or in caves, he remained a presence on the boughs of the forest’s tallest trees. He did not mate and did not father. He did not fly patterns across the sky while the town below slept. He ate to survive and continued to live well beyond his species’ dictated years. Nothing more. Nothing less.

He watched over Hawkins, Indiana for over a century. With each passing year, things would change. Slowly, the wilderness had been reduced to clusters of wooded areas by modernisation and industrialisation. It was becoming more and more common for the bats to come into contact with humans. A vast majority of the time, the people screamed and ran, terrified of disease or spooked by urban legends. Some marveled at the bats with respectful awe. Some tried and failed to catch the needle-teethed things for sport. Mostly, they were left alone to mind their own bat business, and mostly, that’s what the ageless bat did.

It wasn’t until mid-nineteenth century that the bat sensed a deep and profound shift. The Lab was built and the earth suffered. The bat had an ariel view and echolocation, but he couldn’t know what happened within the walls. Decades passed and the mystery continued. By 1983 though, he knew his kind wasn’t the only nightmare fuel in the woods.

1984. 1985. And, in 1986 the ground split open, spilling the Upside Down into Hawkins. An earthquake, reported the news. The sixth sense innate in all animals knew better Deers, birds, and bees all migrated out of pattern. The colony of bats entirely disappeared one night, having feared the vibrations pulsating from the cracks in the earth.

Only one remained, an unshakable and quite possibly magical force tethering him to Hawkins.

…

“That town is no place for a witch,” came the warning. “Something is still wrong with Hawkins. Can’t you sense it?”

Infamous in Indiana, Hawkins was the place where buildings burnt and people went missing with threefold outcome. One: they were never seen again. Two: returned, but at what cost? Three: bodies found, so disfigured by unseen violence that it was hard not to believe in monsters.

When the streets fell apart in 1986, sending part of the town down into hell, it would have been fair for Hawkins to lose what remained of their resolve. Yet, the town would go on to rebuild, and between the freshly poured concrete and funeral services, a battle was fought in secret.

“A doorway was opened. They may not claim victory,” came another warning with a beg to heed.

Yes, it would be the fight of their lives, but it wasn’t for a witch to interfere with. That was a hard line in the sand of magic that even you would not cross. They called him Vecna, but you had no name for him. His sorcery was not of the natural world. To let him know of yours would be to risk it all.

There was more to you than witchcraft, however. Hawkins was a town in crisis, and there was space for you to help and heal.

“It’s not just him,” cried a third and final warning. “The ground is consecrated,”

“That’s old superstition,” you dismissed.

“So is blood moon bad luck, but look what happened last time. And falling brooms, broken mirrors, and circles of salt. We are superstition. There are some places witches should not go.”

Your mind was set and your path clear. “Something is calling me there. Doesn’t that have meaning?”

“Not all callings are sanctified,”

“Do we fear holiness or not?” you asked. “I can’t walk consecrated ground but should only show devotion to the sanctified calls?”

There was no answer.

You sighed and softened your voice. “Look, I know you mean well. All you do is out of love. I know that. But, I need to do this. It’s… I don’t know… So real. The calling. It almost has a voice,”

“The timing,” was offered as a reminder.

The first time you felt something coming from Hawkins was when the quote unquote earthquake happened. A catastrophic event like that had to have more consequences than just Vecna, you thought. It could have shifted other magic and natural musings.

“I’ve made up my mind,” you stated with boldness beyond your rank in the coven.

“Are you so willing to discount lore?”

“Folklore. It’s 1986. I know witchcraft isn’t a science, but you have to give me more credit than that. We don’t have to listen to every whisper on the wind and take for gospel the tea leaves in our cups… Nuances, you know?”

Your eyes stayed closed and your hand gripped the pen tightly, waiting for a reply to be sprawled out on the page. When nothing more came, ‘Are you so willing to discount lore?’ the last words scribbled in a handwriting not your own, you breathed out hard.

Automatic writing took a lot of energy out of you, but it was the best method of speaking to The Witches Who Came Before. Reading back their psychographic warnings, you felt a small sense of guilt over defying them, but more than guilty, you felt empathy for a town so beaten by evil over and over.

Hawkins was calling.

…

Aid workers, distressed families, and reporters had flooded the small town, making it all the more easy for you to slip by the city limits unnoticed. Although you weren’t sure what should or could be noticing you, there was still a small exhale of relief when you didn’t burst into flames as you drove passed the ‘Welcome to Hawkins’ sign.

The voice calling you to the town hadn’t been polite enough to give specific instructions. In lieu of directions or coordinates, you drove along roads that appeared to be out of the path of the earthquake, finding your way to a bar called The Hideaway.

Inside, patrons sat around watching their town on the news while staff rushed to cook food and package it up for the crisis centers.

“Bit of a wait on food, honey,” a waitress called to you.

“Just after a Coke.”

It seemed uncanny for a bar to be operational in the middle of an emergency, but it also befit a town so used to death. You took your can of Coke from the waitress, left a ten on the counter, and made your way around the tables to get to the noticeboard on the other side of the room.

Lost dogs. Swimming classes. Babysitters for hire. Then, your eyes landed on it.

1BR TRAILER. PARTLY FURNISHED. WATER/ELECTRICITY. NEEDS REPAIR. CHEAP. CALL: FOREST HILLS TRAILER PARK. 312-683-1192.

Maybe it had already been volunteered to home displaced people, but you trusted it was worth a shot. “Hey, can I borrow your phone?” you asked the waitress, walking to the bar and leaning on it. She nodded and dumped the old rotary phone in front of you.

After four rings, “Forest Hills,”

“Ah, hey. I saw your flyer. About the one-bedroom. Is that still available?”

The woman made a scoffing sound. “Apparently beggars can be choosers. Ain’t nothing wrong with that trailer but Red Cross said it ain’t fit for people. On account of the mold, they said.” Her voice was gravelly from a pack a day, but she didn’t sound unkind.

“I don’t mind mold,”

“Guess it’s available then.”

…

The bat had never known illness or injury. Whatever was killing the trees though, had touched him. He didn’t wither and die like other flora and fauna, but he wasn’t unscathed. It was as if he was burnt from the inside out, a mark on his feet spreading slowly but surely.

The sensation was unpleasant at first, but grew more noxious. His wings wouldn’t stretch their full span, and he could only glide small distances. The bat found a small patch of trees not yet turned to ash, settling in at the base of one, hiding under brush for warmth.

It was a fine place to die, if that should be his fate. He was where he belonged.

…

Forest Hills Trailer Park had been subdivided again and again; any spare patch of land was used for caravans and tents of people left homeless or those coming to watch the disaster unfold.

The one-bedroom trailer Michelle, manager of the park, gave you the keys to was indeed in need of repair. There were air vents that sat wide open, the outside cold seeping through. Dark mold grew in the corner of the bedroom’s ceiling. And the carpet should have been replaced years prior.

The very first thing you did once alone in your new home was ring a small bell you kept in your bag. Three shrill rings for good fortune. For everything else, you’d need supplies.

The local general stores would likely be low on stock, and the shopping mall had burnt down only a year ago. It stood in ruin, yet to be redeveloped. Before you ventured to the shops, you decided to take a short walk around Forest Hills and the surrounding land to see what could be foraged.

As you passed people, some looked you up and down, Satanic Panic clouding their perception of anyone they considered to be different from themselves, to be ‘other’ in any way. Some neighbours though, waved and offered a friendly greeting. “Michelle con you into that old trailer?” one asked, to which you politely faked a laugh.

Out beyond the trailers and RVs was a patch of land that seemed unaffected by everything happening in the town. The trees soundproofed the space, making it feel miles away from civilisation. While there wasn’t much in the way of edible mushrooms and plants, nor things needed for your craft, you sensed an undercurrent of magic there.

Crouching down, you picked up a golden leaf, twirling it between your fingers. Close, you thought, but didn’t know what it meant.

It was then you saw it out of the corner of your eyes. Something moved under the tree near you. Small. An animal. A rabbit, maybe? Rats or opossums or a trash-stealing raccoon?

Slowly, you sat down on the forest floor, cross-legged and facing the tree. You would wait until the animal revealed itself on its own terms.

The bat was so weak he could hardly move. He tried to hide away from the human that was watching him, but he couldn’t. When he resigned to his position, he let his vision focus on you.

You weren’t surprised to see the bat. The feeling was relief, like you’d found a missing thing. It was clear something was wrong with the creature though. “Do you need help?” you asked it.

Still slowly, you scooted closer to the bat. There were no obvious signs of injury. His brown fluffy body was free from blood or gore. Perhaps he had torn a wing or flown into a tree.

“I can help,” you whispered, holding a hand out flat to the ground. The tips of your fingers were close enough to the bat that he could bite if he wanted to, or he could shuffle forward into the softness of your hand.

Whatever compelled the bat to never leave Hawkins, compelled him to fall onto your palm.

“Hi,” you greeted, bringing your hand to your chest and holding the bat safely between your hands. “What’s happened?”

The bat was a common species; you recognised him as the aptly named big brown bat. His body was the size of a baseball, and some of his colouring was wrong. His legs and arms would normally be pink, but they were a sickly black colour. It looked like his brown fur was beginning to turn too.

“Did you eat something bad? Accidentally poison yourself?”

The bat, of course, did not answer your questions. You looked around the trees for other lost animals or any sign of something that may have caused your new friend to become sick. When there were no answers there either, you stood and took the both of you back to the trailer.

…

Destiny and a little folly may have led you to Forest Hills and the one-bedroom trailer, but you had come to Hawkins prepared nonetheless. In your car, there were supplies to ensure if you’d had to sleep there for a couple of nights, you could. The bat would benefit from your readiness.

The sleeping bag you’d packed was turned into a soft nest for him. “Alright, let’s get you warm,” you whispered, placing him in the middle. He shuffled on the spot for a few moments before settling, his brown eyes still watching you.

When you offered him a piece of banana, he nibbled at it.

When you gingerly stroked his fur, he let you.

Still, there was something about the way the bat watched you, something in his reaction to your movements. You couldn’t put your finger on it, but it was most definitely curious.

“Alright, my furry friend. We need provisions. Especially if there’s gonna be two of us.” You spoke to him as you pulled your jacket on and grabbed your bag. “Please be here when I get back. I promise I can help you.”

…

It was dark when you returned home. Stores were staying open late to receive interstate deliveries and provide goods to the in-need townspeople, so you managed to get most things on your list.

Inside the trailer was cold, the spring air outside not yet filtered with summer’s coming warmth. You checked on the bat, ensured he was still cosy in his nest. Then, you got to work.

After soap and scrubbing did its part and the mold was attacked with vinegar and bleach, you boarded up the vents and added repairing them properly to your to-do list. In the bedroom, the bed was covered in fresh linen while you dreamed of a brand new mattress.

The only other furniture in the so-called ‘partly furnished’ trailer was a couple of bar stools at the kitchen bench, a televisionless television stand, a couch in surprisingly good condition, and a coffee table that sat a little too low to the ground.

Next, you took a ritual learned from your sisters whilst in India and let milk and rice boil over on the stove for prosperity and abundance. From time spent in Lowcountry, you observed the practice of painting your porch blue. The trailer didn’t have a porch, but the doorframes would suffice. It would ward off evil spirits, as would the salt ring you ran around the home. Finally, mugwort and sweetgrass smudged through the space, cleansing and claiming it as your own.

By the time you were finished, it was almost midnight and your stomach growled obscenities. The bat had been nibbling on the fruit you’d offered, but you’d not eaten since the morning.

After two cups of noodles and a cup of white jasmine tea, you unpacked the small cat bed you’d purchased for the bat. You relocated him into it, still with the sleeping bag, and pushed it under your bed. He’d like it in the dark, you thought.

Skipping a shower, you changed into pajamas and got into bed. Sleep came quickly, perhaps quicker than it had in decades. You dreamt that night. Of darkness. Of blood. Of screaming. Nothing coherent, nothing recognisable. Just an ominous feeling that you were going to find what you were looking for, ready or not.

End Note: Reblogs and comments are so appreciated. Like I said, it will take a couple of chapters for you to fall in love, but I promise you will.

If you are interested in the witchcraft in the story, check out The Grimoire. It will be updated with each chapter!

Fic Taglist: @kaitebugg03 @paranoidmunson @amira0303 @munsonsbait @idkidknemore @paprikaquinn @stardustworlds @loz-brooke @wyverntatty @vintagehellfire @dark-academia-slut @scarletwitchwhore @becks1002 @mrsdollardog @heyndrix @luceneraium @rosaline-black @devilinthepalemoonlite @goldencherriess @iamwhisperingstars @wiltedwonderland @blueywrites @breezybeesposts @jadehowlettthewolf @spikesvamp79 @foreveranexpatsposts @stardustmunson @tortoiseshellspells @wingedpeachjudgegiant

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[clockwayswrites]

Specter of Starlight - Part 2

Part 1 Mind the CW at the top. (which together will = chapter 1 ones it goes up up on ao3)

WC: 1068

-

He looked around the roof assessing the scene again, then at the other person.

They were leaning casually on the gargoyle now, unconcerned about the height. The new pose did cause them to throw one leg over on the roof side of the ledge, though, and Tim felt the bundle of nerves inside him unwind just slightly.

“Odd place to be then.”

“Maybe. I find height comforting. I’m Danny,” they said.

Tim was a little startled at being given a name so easily.

Danny gave him a lopsided smile. “Not that it’s not obvious who you are, but usually one guy tells another guy their name, they get a name back. There are social motions to go through here. There are expectations.”

Tim tilted his head at that, fighting back a smile. “Are social motions still in place when we’re sitting on a roof at—” His eyes darted to the hud feed inside his lenses. “—three twenty-two in the morning?”

“Hum,” Danny seemed to be actually thinking about that as he picked absently at the fang of the grinning gargoyle. “I suppose we’re exempt from most. In my defense, I think I lost track of time.”

“While star gazing.”

“Cloud gazing. I think we covered that already.”

“Red Robin, then, if we’re pretending to be normal,” Tim acquiesced.

“’Normal’ says the guy in the bird suit. Wait, I’m sorry, that makes you sound like a furry. Not that furries aren’t delightful people, but don’t really think you are one.”

It took some effort not to laugh, but he finally gave into the smile. “No, just a vigilante.”

“Got to say, that’s probably a pretty big step down from furry, sure you want to admit that?”

He was being teased. He was being teased by a random guy on the edge of a roof at three in the morning. This wasn’t at all what Tim expected but he would take it.

“You’re lucky Batman isn’t around to hear you slander the good vigilante name like that.” Mostly because Bruce was dealing with Justice League business. Really, right then, Tim was the only Bat who would be in this particular area to notice Danny (other than Oracle’s all seeing eye, but this high up didn’t have a lot of cameras).

“Okay, but seriously,” Danny said, spreading his hands, “Batman is way more furry adjacent than you. He’s got the wings—”

“It’s a cape.”

“—and the ears.” Danny brought his hands up, holding a single finger up on either side of his head. He gave them a little wiggle.

Tim wasn’t able to help the snort of laughter that time. “I’ll let you bring that reasoning up to him yourself.”

“No thanks, I don’t really want to have a run in with the Batman.”

“But I’m fine to have a run in with?” Tim wasn’t really offended, he knew he wasn’t nearly as terrifying as Batman. Or Red Hood. Or the latest Robin. Not to mention the girls… Okay, so he wasn’t the scariest Bat by far, alright?

“I’m not minding your company so far. Besides, you’re way cuter than Batman.”

He could feel the heat of the sudden blush on his cheeks. Hopefully the the dark night would hide it.

From Danny’s smirk he guess it didn’t.

Tim cleared his throat and grappled for a topic. “So were you hoping to see any particular stars?”

“I mean,” Danny let his head tilt back over the gargoyle, exposing the long line of his neck as he looked back up at the sky. “That always depends on the time of the year.”

If Tim was a less composed person he would have rolled his eyes. “Yes, well, what on this specific March night would you have been looking for?”

Danny’s gaze jerked back down to blink at Tim, but he couldn’t gather what for. Did Danny really think Tim didn’t know something as basic as the constellations changing with seasons?

No, Danny seemed to take a notice breath (why was it so noticeable suddenly) and relaxed again.

“Well, for March, we’d be seeing Orion,” Danny said, returning his gaze to the sky as if they could see anything. “He’s pretty easy to spot even in cities, because of how bright his starts are and his belt. His belt isn’t the brightest stars in Orion, but since they line up people have been spotting them for ages.

“In ancient Arabic they were Al Nijād, also the belt, but in modern they refer to them as scales, which is what the Chinese maybe called them too. They’re also sometimes called the three sisters or the three kings. There’s three stars on it, all pretty bright. Well, we call them three stars, but two of them are actually star systems— shit, sorry, I’m just ranting at you now.”

“No,” Tim said quickly. He hated the way Danny was curling into himself now. “It’s interesting. What do you mean they’re not three stars?”

Tim felt like he was being judged as Danny’s eyes swept over him. Judged and expected to be found wanting. How many times had people dismissed Danny when he was talking about this?

Tim must have passed because Danny started talking again. Slowly, at first, as if he was waiting for Tim to change his mind. “Well… see, the left most star, Alnitak, is a triple, maybe quadruple star system. We’ve known it was a double start since early eighteen something something— I’m not so great with remembering the dates— but then we found another star with the primary later which is super cool. And the right most star Mintaka is also multiple stars and one of them has a unusual metal abundance which is also really cool.

“Now the middle star, Alnilam, is a massive blue super giant. And I mean like, forty times the size of our sun massive. It’s the, twenty-seventh or twenty-ninth or somewhere there brightest start in the sky but even then, it’s only the forth brightest start in the Orion constellation. Like I said, super noticeable. Most people think Betelgeuse is the brightest because that’s one of the larges stars visible to the naked eye. If you thought Alnilam was big at forty times our sun’s size, Betelgeuse is over twelve hundred times bigger…”

A soft smile gracing his lips, Tim shifted to be more comfortable and hear all about Betelgeuse and Rigel and the other bits of starlight that made up Orion.

____

AN: Well, this decided it really wanted to be written, like now (now being 4am). But to be fair, I did rewrite two scenes of the next chapter of lbfd first. (And seriously, no shade on furries, they really are a wonderful community and the best cons to vend at.) Hopefully not too many mistakes, fresh migraine hell over here.

I hope Danny nerding out about the stars there at the end wasn't too dry? I don't know if I need to trim it down? Fun (?) facts, Orion is my fav constellation and my brother actually helped study the metallic content of starts because he's crazy smart. Anways, I love Danny being able to completely change the mood on Tim just by being his delightful, dumpster fire self. You all stay delightful too, darlings!

bby tag list: @michealawithana | @skulld3mort-1fan | @legowerewolf | @tsukihimeyfan | @bahfev | @lehana37 | @ghostreblogging | @quirky-gardener

[smallidarityyuri]

Jimmy loved play fighting with Joel.

It was comfortable, so you can't blame him. Why it's comfortable is because they'd done this so many times before. Jimmy was used to this, and knew how to do it well. He hated change, like a bird.

Joel loves play fighting with Jimmy. He loved bothering Jimmy in any way possible and making Jimmy groan whenever it happens. He loves wrestling Jimmy for whatever he's got in his hands and then giving it back to him immediately after taking it, if it gets Jimmy to hang out with him.

Recently, though, Joel has been feeling a bit soft. It isn't your average run of the mill growing soft for someone' trope. Nah, Joel had gone soft for Jimmy years ago. So, he devised a little plan to bother Jimmy with this softness as much as possible.

In all honesty, he didn't have to devise a plan for it to work on Jimmy (as much as Joel loves him, he's easy). He did anyways, likes putting the thought in.

So, one night in the mansion, Joel antagonized Jimmy again. They were both on the bed, and Joel was trying to pull something (Joel didn't actually know what it was) out of Jimmy's hands.

Jimmy pulls his hands up higher than Joel can reach, while Joel clambers into his lap to reach further for it. They're both batting at each other like a cat fight, pushing each other by their faces and biting.

Just as Joel grabs the object- leaning onto Jimmy in his lap- they both fall. Jimmy falls backwards onto the bed, and Joel lands on top of him. It takes Jimmy by surprise (you can tell cause he squeaks), so Joel successfully pulls the object away from him.

Jimmy groans and tries to push Joel off of him, to no avail. Then… Joel sorta.. goes slack on him. He melts onto Jimmy's chest all of a sudden.

Jimmy blinks in confusion.

"Wait- hold on a second.. Joel."

Joel hums out a response like a purr. "Hmn?"

"What're you doing?"

Joel adjusts to look at him, his chin resting on Jimmy's chest.

"Cuddling."

Jimmy narrows his eyes, huffs.

"...cuddling."

"Yeah. S'nice innit?"

"it's--" Jimmy cuts himself off, feeling his face heat up. Rosy red spreads across his face like blush brushes dancing on his skin. His ears turn a similar shade. His eyelashes flutter.

Joel changed all of a sudden. He went all soft and cuddly on Jimmy instead of trying to be an asshole on purpose.

It's odd. He does that sometimes- getting all mushy on him. Jimmy is pretty sure he's the only person who's seen Joel like that. Maybe Grian has- he doubts it though.

"It is.. nice."

Joel raises an eyebrow. "You good there, babe?"

Jimmy makes a noise in his throat, sounding almost strangled as he says, "i... you..."

He lets his head fall back onto the pillows. His arm wraps around Joel, with a snort. "You're a menace."

He can practically hear Joel's grin. His stupid handsome smile and his odd sharp teeth. He can feel that stupid look in his eyes. The one that Joel uses when he's making fun of Jimmy. It feels more like.. he was being admired right now, at the same time.

"That's me!" Joel sing-songs. "But- you love me, don't ya, Jim?"

Jimmy rolls his eyes. not that Joel can see it, but he did it anyway.

"You just rolled your eyes, didn't you?"

Oops! Jimmy snickers.

"I love you too, Joel."

Joel hums. He buries his face back into Jimmy's chest, muttering something Jimmy doesn't quite catch. He hears something about Jimmy being like a pillow. He assumes Joel was calling his boobs a nice pillow. Again.

Maybe change isn't so bad?

(Massive credit to @zedif-y for the dialogue section and also inspiration. Writers block? Not my friend anymore :3)

[flamingpudding]

Part 4 of Ghost Kid in Gotham

<<1 Previous Next

How to catch a baby brother

Richard 'Dick' Greyson had a problem. It wasn't a nuclear level of problem but it also wasn't a paper cut level of problem either. Because apparently he had a baby brother no one in their family but Damien knew about. Granted Damien had confessed that said baby brother was dead and had supposedly died eight years ago.

The explanation that Talia had apparently pulled another Jason was not helpful at all. According to Damien, in response to Tims findings, there was no other way for the twin to be alive other than Talia having preserved his body and then decided after eight years to drop it into the pits. Well lets just say his opinion on that woman if it was already down in the depth it certainly was now.

Which, considering the glowing Lazarus green eyes, could mean that there was now an eight years old child running loose in the Bat Cave with Pit Madness. Not just a simple feral eight years old that looked like perfect B adoption material and so happened to be blood related.

"Guys we need a plan. We can't just let our little teethling run loose."

"Richard, do not refer to my brother as little teethling." Dick only grinned. "Well the little biter needs a nickname and until I find something else fitting its teethling. Or do you have a better suggestion?"

Sweet little Baby Bird was now glowering at him. Oh protective were we, his little brothers definitely were the cutest. He was definitely going to tease sweet little Dami about this later once the first phase of new little brother crisis was over. For now they had to find the little guy first. The Cave wasn't exactly childproof.

"Let's use Jason as bait." Tim suddenly suggested causing the second oldest to grimace. "The little guy apparently likes biting him. We could use that as an advantage."

"Absolutely fucking not." Little Wing disagreed and Dick chuckled in good humor.

"Aw come on Little Wing, this is your chance to make a bond with our new baby before any of us can."

"For once I agree with Todd. Absolutely not, who knows where he has been. I will not have my brother become sick from biting him." He would have cooed at this, if Jason's face change from surprise at the agreement to a purely offended scowl wasn't so funny.

"Okay no biting bait. But we gotta draw out the little guy and calm his Pit Rage." If that feralness the kid displayed had even anything to do with Pit Rage.Considering the glowing eyes though he would think so. Dick eyed Jasons for a moment, he didn't seem to be affected at all nor had he said anything about the Pit being upset or feeling anything strange. So maybe the little guy wasn't suffering to an extrem from it? But he had apparently been brought back by a Lazarus Pit, so the likelihood with their experiences so far was slim.

"Well we gotta find a way to secure the little guy before B comes back or Alfie finds out." Jason mentioned still scowling at Damien. "By the way, I want to be here when you guys tell B about this. I wanna see his face and make fucking sure the little biter won't be turned into another kid soldier."

"Jason." He scowled, this was definitely not the right time for that sort of discussion but he had a point, they needed to find little… what had Damien said his name was? Wait did Damien even tell them the little guy's name? They all had just been using nicknames so far.

"Dami, what's the little teethling's name again?"

"I haven't told you yet." Ah okay so he didn't have a hole in his memory. "It's Danyal, but when we were younger he didn't like the way grandfather and our teachers called his name and insisted on being called informally as Danny."

"Okay right, so we better find little Danny and get everyone together to introduce-"

"Might I ask who this 'little Danny' is, Master Dick?"

He did not scream. But his heart rate shot up with Alfred just appearing behind him like that. Really sometimes Alfred could be as bad as Cass in the ways of sneaking up on people without them knowing.

"Alfred, hey hi what are you doing down here?" He was not nervous, no he wasn't. The way the butler narrowed his eyes at him did definitely not scare him at all, nope.

"I was informed that all of you returned uninjured." Though his eyes narrowed at Jason's hand that got cut earlier and his brother instantly tried to hide it behind his back when he noticed Alfreds eyes on him. "But the four of you, despite having returned to the Cave, have not come up yet. So I was merely checking on you, to make sure nothing was wrong after all."

He gulped. Really there was no way of ever hiding anything from Alfred.

"Jason brought a child to the Cave that we found out is Damien's twin that had died eight years ago but was brought back to life and is now feral and hiding somewhere in the cave."

At least it was Timber that blurred out everything they knew so far.

"His name is Danyal." Baby Bird added and the four of them waited for Alfred's reaction.

"I see. I will go prepare one of the rooms then and inform Master Bruce to return sooner from his meeting with the Justice League then. As well as prepare for a family dinner as soon as possible, I assume. Will my help be needed in finding young Master Danyal?"

"No worries Alfie, I think I have an idea on how to draw out the little shiiii-biter. You made cookies, right?" Jason at the last minute corrected his words because of the look and Dick couldn't help but snicker.

"I indeed did. If my help is not required then I will be on my way."

Giving them all one last look over, the Butler smiled before he turned to leave. Dick, Tim and Jason let out a sigh in relief once Alfred had left again to which Damien only eyed them strangely.

A little while later Jason went to get the cookies and came back with the plate and staring at a green post-it note. "Since when does Alfie stick green post-it notes with cryptic shit on plates?"

"What?" His brother only shrugged offering the note to him. Tim was looking over his shoulder at it and the two stared at the strange writing.

"I think Cass or Steph might be pulling a prank on us? These look just like random squiggles."

"Let's leave this for later and look for the little teethling." He passed the note to Tim, noticing the curiosity in his eyes. Oh boy, he probably should make sure his little brother gets some sleep instead of trying to encrypt whatever was written on that little note all night.

"Now everyone lets take a cookie, resist eating it and go hunt down our little teethling."

Damien narrowed his eyes on him. "I told you to stop calling Danyal that." The little baby bird still took a cookie though and marched away into the bat cave. They had separated wandering through the Bat Cave trying to cover as much ground as possible and by this point Dick was ready to call for Cass to join them, maybe even wake up Duke just so they would finally find the little kid.

That was until a familiar yowl of pain resounded in the Cave. The direction made Dicks stomach sink once he remembered just what was in the Cave in this direction. "Jason!"

Once he arrived there he feared for the worst. Jason avoided the area, because B had placed their Lazarus Pit there and his brother had often said that it was one of the reasons he didn't like coming to the Cave that much anymore let alone into this area of the Cave. To hear his brothers shout of pain from that area couldn't mean anything good.

Well that was until he got to the scene. Dick didn't know how long he stood there frozen but at some point he knew he took out his phone to take some photos of what was happening. Tim was already laughing and Dick was pretty sure that Babs was most likely recording this with one of the many cameras B had in the Cave.

Jason lay with his back on the ground, with one hand his brother was still holding the cookie waving it desperately before Danny's face who was biting down on the other arm sitting on the downed vigilante's chest. Little hands gripping onto the arm in an attempt to make sure no one was taking his chewtoy away from him. Meanwhile Damien was trying to lift the little biter off Jason by holding him with his hands under the kids armpits.

"You little shit! FUCK! Come on, here is the cookie! Take the fucking cookie! OUCH FUCKING HELL! How is he resisting Alfies cookies!"

"Danyal, No! You do not know where Todd was or how dirty he is. Let go of his arm this instant. We do not want you to get sick!"

"Hey!"

This was gold, Dick decided, and would go straight to the black mail as well as family memories folder.

[nox140497]

Jason?

BACKGROUND: The reader was Jasons best friend and partner and was kidnapped with Jason and forced to watch the Joker beat him to death.

SUMMERY: After having to watch your best friend and partner beaten to a bloody pulp by a psyco clown and blown up, not being able to do anything to save him, the reader gets thrown out a small window, only big enough for her to fit, before the explosion and then saved by Batman and returned to the batcave. She continues to work with Batman and Nightwing and helps to. train Tim to be the new Robin so that he would not end up the same way Jason did.

WARNING: The characters may be slightly ooc, and my timeline is probably really wrong, but I don't have wifi at the moment, so I can't make sure if the timeline is really rediculously long. Sory.

Oh yea and ------ means line break

WORLD COUNT:1120.

Masterlist

Prompt List

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I am Sparrow a.k.a Y/N L/N. I am one of Batmans allies. I used to be the partner, love interest and best friend to the second Robin a.k.a Jason Todd. However that all changed when we were kidnapped by the Joker while we were on patrol one night. He forced me to watch him beat my best friend to a bloody pulp. Batman was able to save me, because Jay threw me out a window,but Jason wasn't as lucky.

I still blame myself.

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It's been about a year since I was forced to watch Joker brutally beat my best friend and partner Jason Todd to death. In this time, Batman a.k.a Bruce Wayne has taken on another Robin by the name of Tim Drake.

At first, I was really upset about the fact that Bruce had taken on another Robin as I saw it as him replacing Jason, and I knew Jason would see it like that as well. After a while, though, I realised that Robin grounds Batman in some weird way.

I had noticed that after every Robin that he lost, Dick having quit as the first one, and Jason had.....died, that the Bat became more brutal. Having a Robin by his side made him more mellow in a way.

So I made a decision that even thogh I wasn't his partner and I now worked mostly alone much like Dick, now Nightwing, does, that I would help train the new little bird so that the chance of him ending up like Jason would be slimmer.

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We had formed a bond in the past couple months, a bond much like Dick and I had. Tim was like a brother to me, and all the bad guys in Gothem knew by now that I was very protective of my siblings, whether it be the older one or the younger one.

Anyway theres this new guy that appeared in Gothem a few months ago. He really likes annoying Batman. He's an anti hero named Red hood. He seems so fimiliar in a way but I can't figure out why. He seems so angry though, and under all that anger I can tell that he is hurting, broken in a way.

Don't ask me how I can tell, I just can.

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I was on patrol with Batman and his other birds. I was standing on a random rooftop listening to Batgirl and Nightwing bicker about something through the earpiece in my ear, I swear those two bicker like an old married couple, when I heard an almost silent thud behind me. I didn't think anything about it as the only ones who could do that so silatlntly were the Dark Knight himself and his birds.

I did, however, spin around when there was a soft but deep chuckle from behind me.

"Redhood." I breathed. I know I should have been scared, but for some reason, I felt safe in his presence.

"Hello, little birdie." He said. This guy was so rediculously familiar.

"What can I do for ya, Hoodie?" I asked calmly.

"I needed to talk to you alone." He said, his voice seeming to warm slightly and slightly nervous. I wonder why 'cause I know he isn't scared of me. I mean, seriously, this guy is at least twice my size, built like a truck and freakishly tall. He could seriously hurt me if he wanted to.

"Well then talk, you have my full attention, dear Hoodie." I said, removing the earpiece for a while and acting like I wasn't freaking out a bit.

He removed the helmet, leaving him in just a red mask that looked like the ones we birds wore.

My eyes widened and filled with tears under my mask as I recognized the face under that rmask, granted slightly older but still the same.

"J-Jason." I wispered weakly.

"Hi beautiful." He said softly.

"H-how?" My voice was weak and barely audable as I spoke to the boy I loved, the boy I thought was dead.

"Ras Al Ghul and his Lazarus pit."( SPELLING??)

I nodded weakly and stared at him for a minute. Suddenly, I lunged at him and threw my arms around his neck, hugging him tightly, nuzzeling my face into his chest as he held me just as tightly.

"I missed you so much." I sobbed softly into his chest.

"I missed you too, my love." He said quietly.

We stood and chatted on that rooftop for a while, catching up, when I suddenly I heard a slight beep. I looked down at the earpiece that I had put in one of the pouches in my utility belt and put it back in my ear, and answered it.

"What's up, Blue Bird?" I asked as I knew it was Dick who wanted me.

"Bruce wanted me to let you know that Redhood has been spotted in that area of Gothem." He informed me, and I could hear the concern in his voice.

I looked at Jason with an amused smile on my face.

"Yea, no kidding." I muttered.

"What was that n/n?" Dick asked.

Nothing, I'm almost done anyway. See ya in a bit, Blue Bird." I said.

"Alright, please be careful." He said.

Jason looked at me with a raised eyebrow.

"What?" I asked softly. He just smiled at me.

"So what now?" He asked me. I looked at him and smiled.

"I don't suppose you want to go back to the Batcave to speak to Bruce, huh." I asked with a soft sigh.

"Not particularly, no." He sighed and looked at me with pleading eyes.

"Jaybird, I'm not gonna force you to do something that you don't want to do, but I really think you should at least talk to him. Talk this out with him. It might make you feel a little better if you hear his side of the story. You know how he is. He might not show it very often, but he really does care about us kids." I said, hoping that he would agree to come with me to the Cave.

"I don't know, Babe. He never really cared for me much, I mean, look how fast he replaced me." He said almost sadly.

"Don't be ridiculous, Jay. He loves you. He just doesn't show it that often. And he only replaced you because 1) Tim offered (*cough* demanded *cough*) because he saw how brutal Bruce became and 2) Batman needs a Robin for that exact reason, and besides Tim isn't your replacement and nobody thinks he is." I said.

"Fine." He sighed.

I smiled happily and pulled him along behind me as I took off towards the Batcave.

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

Danny, on the run from the GIW decides to take shelter in Gotham because if the GIW have any sense they'd never set foot in there.

Even if Batman and the JL agree with thier opinion on ecto entities (as evidenced by their lack of speaking out against the anti-ecto acts) Batman was notoriously territorial and would have issue with a wildly incompetent government organization throwing missiles around his city all willy-nilly.

With that being said it was probably best for Danny to wear a disguise. Sure, they didn't know Fenton and Phantom were the same person yet but Danny Fenton suddenly turning up in Gotham after going missing in Amity is certainly going to raise some eyebrows regardless of the necklace he had that jammed his ecto-signature and made him untrackable.

Danny started off by going blond. Its something he's always wanted to do and now with ghostly shape-shifting powers he doesn't even have to worry about frying his hair or dying his eyebrows to match. After that all he needed to do was part his hair down the middle, add a lip ring or two and maybe a bit of make up.

Danny stared at himself in the mirror. He looked like a completely different person.

A completely different and very attractive person. He looked good. The newly blond man threw on a green jacket and went out to explore the town. He did not expect to literally bump into the Tim Drake. The Wayne adoptee just stood there mouth opening and closing comically. Did he offend him? Crap. He had promised Jazz he would stay off of the radar of the Waynes and the bats specifically and here he was angering one of them.

Danny decided to book it before it became a scene, ignoring the lovestruck Tim's crys for him to wait.

Back at his apartment Danny quickly changed his look to red hair tied back into a two inch low ponytail, green eyes and freckles that unbeknownst to anyone else was made up from the lesser known constellations.

The coffee at this Cafe smelled amazing! Too bad Danny wouldn't get to try it because the next this he knew freaking Red Hood was behind him asking to talk. Our favorite ghost boy wouldn't be embarrassed to admit he let out a small squeek before bolting out the door yelling, "I'm not even a criminal!"

It took Jason a few seconds to process that the guy he had tried to flirt with ran away in terror. Crap.

Day three and four were blissfully Wayne and bat free, though he did find out that Tim Drake and Red Hood were looking for his two false identities. Joy.

Day five he met the stabby Robin who very valiantly beat up two people who had been following him. Danny didn't even notice he was being followed and thanked the bird for saving him. Danny, who was shape-shifted into a very pretty girl at the moment, offered to buy him something to eat as a thank you. "Danielle" insisted and Robin allowed it. Danielle never noticed the slight pink on Damians cheeks as they went over to one of Damians favorite restaurants.

Day seven he had went out as blondie and got confronted by some girl named Barbara. She was nice and managed to convince him to come to a Cafe with her. He told her his name was David and he ran away from his parents with the help of one of his friends family members and that he was Jewish, which was true...except for the David part. He learned that if you wanna keep your story straight keeping to almost truths was your best bet. She in turn told him about Tim and how he's a friend of hers-uh oh- and that he's been looking all over for him.

Danny-David- tells her he's sorry but he didn't mean to offend Tim and doesn't want any trouble before laying down enough money to cover his half of the bill and the tip and booking it out of there

This repeats with most of the family trying to flirt with him or adopt him into the family when he's out as Danny.

Bruce Wayne approached Danny when he was waiting to board an elevator, "Hel-" was all the billionaire could get out before Danny cut him off "Hell no." And then he just got in the elevator and pressed the close doors button and was gone again.

[blueberrypancakesworld]

hellooooo!! may i request a poly! mayhem/black circle (dead is alive) x fem reader who is a mix of black metal/gothic but sweet and bit of a bimbo?? like all of them are hungover from a black circle party and she makes them breakfast and takes care of them and everything??? 🤍🩷

A shiny and sweet morning

warning : fluff, kissing, comfort

Info : Helllloooo dear anon of course you can request such a thing I hope you like this fluffy sweety thing and everyone have fun reading ;)

masterlist

Disclaimer : I don't want to glorify anything, it's about the actrs who play a role, not the real events

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In Norway the mornings in winter were cold and foggy, in spring the sun hung behind the clouds and only in summer the morning was surprisingly bright and pleasantly warm.

A warmth from the sun's rays that came into the young woman's room, the chirping of birds and nature through her roommate's open, demolished window.

Slowly opening her eyes, she wiped the sleep from her eyes as she looked at the clock. ,,Well, let's make the boys something to eat," she mumbled and got out of bed.

She knew it was morning, knew that the boys had all been partying late into the night in the music store and had then found their way back here more badly than right. The smell of beer and grass, of smoke and fire hung in the house, but that would soon change.

The longer black fingernails with the slight silver glitter reached into her closet and picked out a dress, the puffy white underdress with frills was rounded off by the black, thinner outer dress and a belt with small bows.

Sitting back on the bed, she gently and carefully pulled up the white knee-high socks so as not to damage the thin material and tied her hair up in a bow, which was a little wild from sleep.

The sweet young woman, preoccupied in the darkness, walked out of her room and peeked into the hallway, seeing that most of the doors were closed or slightly open from not closing due to the drug and alcohol influence. ,,Like a bat" she mused with a grin as she saw Dead and Euronymous lying on the mattress and coffin with their heads propped up on the floor.

The two of them looked like two oversized bats because of the runny makeup but the picture was cute and she wanted to grin and make a mental note that she had to take a picture of it next time.

That as she walked on and the bunch of Faust, Occoltus and Varg had thrown themselves together on the beanbag, the youngest of the three had the odd disturbing thought and a hand to horrofilem them both with one hand in his arms she held tightly even in her sleep.

,,The iron maiden and her captives," she murmured jokingly and continued down the corridor, almost running over the two of them.

Hellhammer and Necrobutcher leaning against each other, ,,Two mad bears with a hangover," she joked, shaking her head lightly as she tried to escape the crack of the wood from the stairs and quickly made her way to the kitchen.

She was thankful to all her lovers that they were all fiddling in the music store and not here in the house she took care of besides her job as a reporter because she brought the good news to the "hip youngsters" as her boss always called it by giving news and updates on the band once a week and writing an article.

Which was sometimes a bit of a challenge, considering her fingernails and the way her breasts pressed against the keldi. But as it was now, she was coping with everything.

The little light in the kitchen was slightly amplified by the lamp, so she turned on the stove and took the things from the fridge.

,,Goodness gracious, we're almost out of everything," she muttered and took out the remaining eggs, a few slices of ham and sausage as well as fruit and salad.

She put what she wanted to cut up on a board and started cutting away the already moldy part while listening to the latest song from her band playing on the cassette.

Humming along, she swung through the kitchen as best she could, taking care of the scrambled eggs, the salad, the meat and the few cereals with milk.

She set out the plates and cutlery and decided to stop the coffee and not give the men any beer for the time being.

She didn't want another mess. Minutes passed and it had taken her about half an hour to do everything here.

A glance at the clock told her it was time to wake the boys. Pulling the small pocket mirror out of her clothes pocket, she pulled the shimmering, strawberry-scented lip gloss over her lips before she was ready to wake her pack.

Humming happily, she opened the windows in one room after the other, letting in fresh air and the house slowly began to smell of nature and coffee, of something tart that wasn't beer and dorgen.

,,Wake up, gentlemen of hell!" She shouted through the corridors as she knocked on Euronymous and Dead's door, brushing a few tangled strands of hair out of their faces, and the black-haired man's ,,Mhhh too soon" was met with a gentle kiss, causing him to rise slowly.

,,Thank you sweetie," the band founder murmured, letting his gaze wander over her and smiling slightly as he made his way downstairs.

She heard him on his way down, but the three of them fell over Hellhammer and Necrobutcher as they went crashing down the stairs and the sound of cursing filled the house. ,,Day?" she heard the soft voice of the blond who was suddenly standing behind her, his make-up still smudged.

,,Yes, Day... my little zombie," she said and briefly took his hand before she started to pull him behind her to get him to eat, which he didn't do very well anyway.

While the five of them were eating and she had given Hellhammer and Necrobutcher a cold pack, she went back upstairs to hell the last three.

,,Fresh coffee," she murmured and held out a cup to the three sitting on the beanbag, which slowly worked wonders.

Varg took the cup with just coffee, Faust the one with two sugars and Occultus the cup with more milk than coffee.

,,Thank you, darling," the three of them trilled and gave her a quick hug before they all gathered downstairs and the large group squeezed around the table.

She had a cheerful smile on her lips when she saw that the boys were enjoying their meal despite the headache they had all taken a pill for.

,,That's great," she heard from Occoltus, who scooped another heap of egg onto his plate, and a ,,You're the best mommy," from Hellhammer, who winked at her, knowing full well what he was alluding to.

But they all knew what the brown-haired one was getting at, but it didn't bother anyone, she was there for each of her sweeties and always would be. ,,Always happy for my little devils," she replied and sat down at the table before taking her first well-earned sip of coffee.

She was happy when she saw the many relieved faces and received her rewarding kisses.

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[josibunn]

a few days ago I had gotten an anonymous request to do a noncon version of my first evert fic here (“all mine, right?”) but I deleted it because I hated how I rewrote it. I was rushing it bc my own writing made me uncomfortable, so I scrapped it in a whole, sorry anon😭. but i’m thankful for the request bc GOD i HATE that fic!!! even though it was my first I just hate how I wrote it in general. here it is! thank u sm for being patient.

smut! unprotected p in v, noncon, restraining, choking, øystein is really mean here. manipulation, some name calling, a very mean (but on character) threat is made by him to varg, mentions of shooting him. you and euronymous get in an argument, and varg tries to “pick your head up” and it doesn’t end well. please heed the warnings!

you and your boyfriend had been arguing since you stepped out the house. over a fucking dress. you thought you looked good, you knew you looked good, which was why he was on bad timing, you looked too fucking good. so stupid, right?

you weren’t even able to step into your heels before øystein had something to say, which was odd, because he was never one to tell you to change. “what the fuck are you wearing? when did you get this??” he starts, and you stare at him dumbfounded. “what?” “the dress, [y/n].” he says, and off the bat you can tell he’s in a mood, he never uses your name, always stuck with pet names, baby, princess, love, song bird.

(you liked that one, once he let you record vocals over a song just for shits and giggles but ended up loving it and keeping it on the track, “look at you, following in my footsteps.” he praised, cupping your cheeks and kissing you. “just like a little song bird. hm?” he giggled, it was cute.)

“the dress?? what’s wrong with it?” you look over yourself, smoothing it down. it was a velvety white strapless mini dress with a cute bow at the breast of it, you paired it with some heels and a choker and a few bracelets euronymous had gotten you. “it’s cute, right?” you ask, and he circles you, “take it off.” he spits, and you recoil. “what?” “take it the fuck off, you’re not wearing it to the show. that’s dead.” he walks out the room, and you follow him.

you couldn’t believe it, was he actually serious right now? was he acting like this over a dress? a dress he went with you to get, AND paid for?? the fuck??

you guys fought around the house for almost fifteen minutes, of course you weren’t giving it up. his only problem was how see through it was. every curve and crevice could be seen, your dark nipples and tiny pin underwear could be seen through it, had you’d worn it for him and him only he would’ve devoured you open.

“you’re being fucking unreasonable! if you didn’t like it you shouldn’t have bought it!” you shout, and usually his steaming glare would burn holes through you and you’d crumble, but it wasn’t working this time. “[y/n], sweetheart,” he grits. “think about what they’ll say about you! cover the fuck up, you’re not going out like that with your tits out and your ass on display.” he points, and you groan.

to spite him, you grab a shrug cardigan, luckily it paired well with your dress but it only covered your back and arms, acting as just a long sleeve. “better? fucking better?” you put your hands on your hips once you reach the bottom of the stairs. he sighs hard, pinching the bridge of his nose, to be fair, it was what he wanted. he wanted you to cover up, right?

“get in the fucking car.” he points, and you push past him, slamming the door and car door once you step in. and again, you’re arguing all the way to his shop. you loved the scene and the band as much as him, so you knew what he was doing when you two arrive and he tells you, “get in there, sit in the fucking den, and don’t move. ok? don’t let me find you up there.” hes all in your face, and you scoff. “you’re so fucking unbelievable!” you push him away and storm into the shop, and exactly what øystein was afraid of takes down.

eyes are on you the second you step in. you feel them, trailing up your body as your heels click clack click clack through the shop, boobs bouncing as you move angrily past the party goers and down to the den. you hear a few whistles and comments before øysteins shutting it down, some not so empty threats and curses leaving him before he resumes the party.

you groan as you plop down onto the couch, arms crossed and a stuck face, tension basically radiating off you like cartoon stench. the den isn’t so empty, a few people down here on their own, making out, trying to subtly touch each other like they were sneaky.

varg glanced at euronymous before walking downstairs, joining you. “what’s with the atitude?” he asks, and you almost want to scream at him. actually, you don’t hate varg. you don’t not not like him. but you don’t like him because øystein tells you not to. øystein hated varg, and he hated when he was even breathing near you, you never knew why. he was never mean to you, he was as decent as a human can be.

“fucking..øystein made me sit down here because of my dress. so stupid.” you grumble. he looks over you, trailing up your glistening legs, past the way the dress hugged your curves and to your still stuck face, “what’s wrong with it? you look good,” he says, and your anger makes you look past the tone he was insinuating.

“I know! and he was there when we got, hell, he paid for it, so I dunno what the problem is. but he told me to sit down here, so.” you shrug. “well it’s not that bad down here,” he shrugs, and you give him a look before nodding over to the couple perched against the wall who we’re definitely grinding off against each other. “ok it’s-it’s a little bad,” he says, and it makes you giggle.

“lemme get you a drink, maybe turn that frown upside down, yeah?” he nudges your arm, and you roll your eyes with a small smile, nodding. he gets up and re-emerges upstairs, excitement coursing through him. he had been waiting for a moment like this. øystein knew what type of guy varg was, no matter how much of a pussy he actually was. he knew his intentions with you, it’s what anyone would’ve wanted, you’re gorgeous.

and on top of that, you’re his girl. you’re the euronymous’ girlfriend. taking you down would give varg a boost he’d never acquire in his life, no many how many groupie hoes he fucked. he knew what he was doing, he knew why you were down there, he heard what øystein said to you before you two came in, he had a plan the second he saw your angry face shove past people and downstairs.

so you two sat downstairs, your cardigan long discarded as you sip beer with him, laughing together at the display of losers around you. from upstairs, euronymous goes in with the party, drink in his hand and conversing with friends about his joyous accomplishments. all of a sudden, his stomach turns completely, the feeling of throwing up overtaking him, his mouth salivating. for some odd reason he got a gut feeling to check up on you. he hasn’t seen you at all, and though he knew you wouldn’t cross him or make a scene even with your rebellious spirit, he also hadn’t seen varg either, and that was saying something, considering he doesn’t drink and he’s usually at øysteins side at these things, leeching off the spotlight.

so he excused himself rather abruptly and heads downstairs, and anger lights him up from his toes to the folicules on his head, he saw you and realized your cardigan was off. no, he saw varg trailing his hand up your thigh as you look up at him tell some story. though you were uncomfortable with the advance towards you, you didn’t think anything of it really. but øystein couldn’t read your mind, and with the alcohol in his system he didn’t really care.

your eyes widen when you see him storming over, and before you can adjust he’s pulling you out of your seat roughly, your drink falling to the floor as he holds your arm with a bruising grip, holding you up to your shoulder. you let out a small ow, øystein! but his voice overpowers yours as he spits, “the fuck are you doing? the fuck are you doing?!” his free hand points to varg who has a small smirk on his face as he stays at his seat.

“she looked sad, so I was just keepin’ her company. calm down.” he says nonchalantly, but it only makes euronymous angrier. “you stay away from her, you hear? I fuckin told you about that, and if I see you round’ her again i’m gonna blow your fuckin head open,” he points, and it’s the last thing he says before he’s dragging you past people and upstairs. “what’s your problem??” you huff, but he doesn’t give you an answer before he’s pushing you into his office, slamming his door and locking it behind himself.

“are you serious? are you actually serious right now [y/n]?!” he shouts, and luckily the music is loud enough so no one would hear him. “what are you talking about??” you cross your arms as he turns on a lamp. “varg?? the fuck are you doing down there with him??” he throws down his jacket, and you see his flexing biceps and his balled fists.

“I was fucking alone! he was being nice and keeping me company, whatd you want me to do??” you stomp. “keeping you company with his hand up your dress? d’you think i’m stupid??” he scoffs, throwing his arms in front of him. “oh my god, you’re overreacting! I was bored and he was being nice! nicer than you’ve been all fucking night.” you say, backing up to the desk behind you. you cross your arms around your chest, you feel yourself shrinking under him. you knew he’d never hit you, but the way his voice boomed when he got angry like this always scared you.

“nice, [y/n]? nice.” he deadpans, nodding as he steps closer to you, and you look to the floor to the side. “you think a guy like varg would be nice to you? no listen, look at me,” he grabs your chin to make you look at him. “ask yourself, do you really think varg was being nice? like he didn’t have a fucking motive?” hes burning holes into you, and you almost want to cry. you remember how he told you you looked good, and how his eyes flickered from you to your boobs as his hand moves up your leg.

“it wasn’t like that.” you pout, and he grits his teeth together as he sighs through his nose. “you’re a smart girl, [y/n].” his words are harsh yet soft as you look into his eyes. “what do you think he wants? what any guy here would want from you, you’re a fucking gem, you know that. you know that. you want nice? do you wanna know what nice looks like from a guy like him?” he tilts his head, and before you can respond he pulls your dress and your underwear down, lodging his fingers into your hot cunt.

you gasp and choke, a hand on his chest for distance as your legs step apart at the intrusion, eyes big on his as your mouth hangs open in shock, but his face is deadpanned, staring you down as you squirm under his grip. “øystein!” you shriek, your fingers feeling like jelly as you try and push at his wrist, but he’s digging into you fast, fucking his fingers into you. “this is what you want? huh?” he furrows his brows, and you’re whimpering at the stretch of his fingers.

“this is what nice guys like him do to pretty things like you. I know him baby, I fucking know him. he doesn’t wanna be your friend, he wants this pussy.” he spits, and you choke when he grabs your throat. “ack-øystein-” “after gigs, he takes whatever bitch he wants and he treats them like this, does this feel good? you wanna be onea those girls??” he watches your eyes tear up as they roll back, you’re stuttering as you try and plead once more, but he’s massaging your sweet spot, making you all gooey and stupid.

even in his angry state he’s praising you, his cock hard as he listens to your strained moans. “fucking gorgeous, he’d defile you. he’d talk you up, take you home and treat you like some 99¢ hooker. do you want that? is that what you want?�� he lets you go, havin you gasp for air as you push at his forearm. “øystein, m’sorry, baby m’sorry just-just slow down,” you whimper, laying your head against his chest to try use your body weight to slow him down, but all it did was make him go harder, a pained moan coming from you as you grab at his biceps.

“nono I don’t think you get it, I don’t think you know what you’re getting into so lemme teach you, lemme teach you baby.” he tells you, and you feel his knuckles against your stomach as he unbuckles his belt. “he wouldn’t even think about being as nice as i’m being princess, you know that? you think this is too much?” he pulls out of you, and you manage to get your shaky hands on the desk.

you watch him stroke his cock through his boxers, eyeing his v-line that peaked under his cropped top before you caught his eyes that still stared down at you angrily, jaw clenched and everything. “øystein i’m sorry,” you sniffle, rubbing your legs together. “m’sorry, I-I won’t talk to him again, I don’t wanna be those girls, promise. I promise,” you squeak as he steps closer, he doesn’t even have to try as he turns you around, his lips grazing your cheek as whispers, “I know baby, I know you won’t, because you’re a good girl, my good girl. but I gotta teach you, ok? gotta show you what guys like him really look like on the inside,” he says, and you gasp when you feel his tip sliding in you, and just as you scream out at the stretch of his thick, long cock bullying itself into you he slaps a hand over your mouth, pushing your head back slightly as you grab onto the desk.

you drool against his hand as he leans you over onto the desk, whimpering and gasping as you already feel him fucking into you, his length stretching you open. his hand runs up your back as he lets go of your mouth, cradling your head and laying you down on the desk smoothly. “ronymous’,” you gasp, “ronymous wait, fuck it’s-fuck,” you moan, drooling against a stack of papers as you ball your fist against the desk.

“I know baby,” he speeds up, and you let out a guttural moan, keeping your back arched as you squirm in your tiny heels, toes bunching together at the rush of the sensation and urgency his cock was giving you. “he wouldn’t take it east on you, know that? he’d be harder, and meaner, because that’s what ‘nice guys’ want in the end,” he pants, cheeks reddening as he closes his eyes, pleasure overtaking him as he takes in your tight pussy.

“wouldn’t even let you relax, would just fuck you,” he punctuates his thrust harshly, making you jump and choke out a loud high moan, tears filling your eyes once again, “like this,” he pants and does it again, continuing his rythem of fucking you like a toy with no remorse to, because that’s what he thought-he knew varg would do to you.

“øystein fuck!” you cry out, it’s too much to handle, you’re not used to him fucking you either such vigor. “I know sugar,” he sounds pained, hurt by your cries, but in all honesty it’s turning it on. if he was being honest, he was almost to the edge. “just take it, ok? gotta teach you,” he holds down your wrist and stops you from moving your top half completely, his other hand heavy on your back as you move the desk with every deep thrust, groaning above you as you continue to clench down on his cock for dear life.

your head was foggy, a new sort of heat erupting from your pussy as he pinned into you like some..fleshlight. sure, it would’ve been terrible with anyone else, but your boyfriend..god.. he grabs onto the back of your neck, other hand tightening around your wrist as he slams into you, and it has you crumbling, a short and whiney “ohh my goddd,” coming from you as your brows raise and your eyes squeeze together, mouth falling open with loud and airy moans, and by god anyone who came a foot within the door could’ve heard the mess he was making of you.

“fuck baby, can’t let anyone have this pussy,” øystein says aloud as he watched himself bully his dick into you, the recoils of your ass against his pelvis driving him wild, not to mention the stickiness of your cunt could be seen connecting with his cock with each time he drew his dick out, you’re so wet. “dyou understand? huh? answer me,” he pulls you up by the back of your neck and leans over to meet your eyes as you look to the side at him, drool hanging off your lip as your low, foggy eyes meet his.

“you understand now baby? why I do what I do, why I say what I say? lot of bad men out there, and they can’t fuckin have you. they can’t fuckin have you, because you’re mine, right? you’re all mine, right?” he nods, and you nod back, a loud, sobbing moan escaping from you, tears littering your face and the desk, and fuck he’s bout to blow at the sight of you. “yes, fuck yes øystein,” you sob before letting out another shaky gasp, brows raising again as you try and open your eyes.

“fuck i’m gonna cum, gonna cum baby i’m sorry,” you cry out, gripping your own fist. “s’ok, you earned it. did so fucking good,” he pants before he leans up, and this is why you love øystein. why you’re obsessed with him. no matter how angry, how into it he is you always cum first, hell edge himself just to make you cum, even if it was your 3 time. he always rewards you, he can’t resist you. why wouldn’t he give his girl, his sweet thing a treat.

he pulls out and hold you to his chest, shoving all the paper off his desk before he lays you on your back and slides back in, and your legs are shaking on the side as you wrap your arm around him and hold him close, his head buried in the side of your head as he grips the ledge of the desk, going back to pounding into you. “got myself a good girl? yeah baby?” he says in your ear, your back arching to his chest as your mouth hangs open with silent moans, “uh huh,” is all he receives, and he takes it because he knows you’re on the wave of your orgasm.

“yeah I do, got a good fuckin girl yes I do,” he whispers desperately, and you squeak his name as you wrap your legs around his waist, grounding yourself as your orgasm washes over you hard, your ears ringing with the music as you coat his cock, and he smiles, hearing your small coming down moans tying in with the wetness of his his soaked thighs hitting yours. he doesn’t give you a warning when he cums in you shortly after no, you just hear his groan and weight press against you as warmth fills you and trickled down your pussy, making you shiver.

you stay like that for a second, arms wrapped around each as you pant, sweaty bodies sticking together until he lifts up, taking in your beautiful face and disheveled body. “you feelin ok sugar?” his voice is low as he brushes hair off your face, watching you nod. he gives you a gentle kiss, and your shaky hand comes up to cradle his face. “I love you,” he says in your mouth. “love you so much, love you so much.” he says, and you smiles in the kiss.

“love you too, won’t..won’t talk to him ever again. ever, don’t wanna be onea those girl, never ever,” you pant, and he chuckles breathily. “I know you don’t, because you’re my girl, just my girl,” he nods and gets up, rubbing your thigh as he pulls out of your wet, warm cunt, the loss feeling making him whine as his cock hits against his thigh before it softens up.

he lifts you into his arm and carries you to the futon, grabbing a random napkin and cleaning you up as you already feel yourself getting sleepy, holding yourself. he pulls your panties up and your dress down, and gets you a blanket, covering you nicely. you expect a kiss, but confusion takes over you as he gets up and closes the door behind him. you wanna cry, did he really leave me like that? was he still mad? you think to yourself with a pouty frown, raising up on your elbow as you look at the door.

but your sadness subsided when he comes back with a snack and a water bottle, kicking the door shut. “whaswrong’?” he asks, seeing you pouty lip. “thought you left me,” he hands you the water bottle and peels your snack out the wrapper. “of course not, well, I am gonna go back to the party, but i’m not leaving. lay down n sleep, ok? i’ll be right out there, and i’ll come get you when it’s time to leave.” he gives you a little kiss and a rub on the back, making you smile ditzily.

“love you.” you watch him get up, “I love you too, go to sleep mama, ok?” is all he says before leaving out, and it’s all you hear before you do crash out.

ok that's soo much better!! also sorry I had to end it on a sweet note, I can't do angst, he's just too simpy for me :3. I hope you enjoyed and thank u sm again anon for being so patient! i'm trying to get better at answering requests faster.

also i've been seeing like emoji anons and if anyone would like that i'd be happy to do so! just ask with whatever emoji you'd like! okbyee :3

join my taglist! @angelsanarchy @sugarinte @monkeyfart @444rockstargf @bambi-horror @auggiethecreator @wonkinoo @auryyz @brithedemonspawn @electra-nevermind

[rockybloo]

Thinking about Bitterbat tormenting Freebird. Not physically or even seriously but just mocking shit while in battle while he is obviously holding back because Bitterbat could obviously kill the bird man with the flick of a finger.

He very badly wants to but he knows the mess it'd cause and simply settles on mocking America's #1 via bringing up Sweetheart.

He says the typical villainous things one would expect-how she's so out of his league, how he'll never be strong enough to protect her, how she'll never return his feelings.

Of course, Freebird has protagonist brain so he keeps responding heroically. He goes on and on about how he'll defeat Bitterbat and how his words don't hurt him and is just Bitterbat projecting.

And then Freebird fucks up and states Bitterbat doesn't know anything about Sweetheart.

And there's this horrible glint in Bitterbat's eyes as he takes this slight as the green light to drop the weights a bit.

Not on his strength but on his mouth.

"I know how soft her lips are and how sweet they taste" Many, including Freebird upon hearing this think of all the kisses Bitterbat "steals" in battle.

"I know all the weak spots that make her knees buckle when touched" Again, those listening think of all the times Bitterbat has shown just how better he is in hand-to-hand combat than Sweetheart.

"I know how her voice sounds when she's trembling in my arms" Freebird glares at Bitterbat, recalling how scared Sweetheart often looks anytime she is pinned or wrapped up in Bitterbat's clutches. He knows the fact Bitterbat could easily kill her just fills her with fear and anytime he witnesses the scene as he watches the Decking City News, he wishes for nothing more than to sweep in and pull that bat wing eared monster off her.

"And I know that whenever she is around you, she is always thinking of me." A wide, twisted, and smug smile crept to Bitterbat's face as he watched the pure anger in Freebird's face change to frustrated confusion.

All the other teases had been, what many watching thought, to be battle related. But that last jab at Freebird made him pause to think about just what the hell Bitterbat meant.

And Bitterbat loved it. He wanted oh so badly to define what he meant. Go into deeper detail about the insult. Just like he wanted so badly to go into detail about the prior ones. He knew how oblivious the world was to the true relationship of Sweetheart and him. He knew when they heard his words, they simply thought of their fights together and the tricks he'd pull.

No one truly knew that each of his vague jeers were references to all the intimate times he and Sweetheart spent together off the battlefield.

No one except maybe the rabid Bittersweet Shippers. Lord knows how much they were eating this little moment up.

But Freebird was obviously not one of those and he snarled at Bitterbat, which the latter viewed as a pathetic attempt at both intimidating him as well as just sounding animalistic.

Freebird's wings bristled as, Bitterbat assumed, he tried to make himself appear bigger.

"I don't know what you're trying to pull with your disrespectful remarks to Sweetheart, but I'm not going to listen to some selfish creep that constantly forces himself upon her!"

A guttural sound crept out from Bitterbat's throat. It was deep and low and made everyone listening's bones rattle. Whatever playful energy was in this battle left immediately as Bitterbat's face lost all expression. His eyes were cold and the locked on stare they had on Freebird made him freeze instinctually.

Those watching could tell that the scene had switched from a confrontation of rivals to predator and prey.

Freebird was struggling to say anything to break up the silence. But nothing was coming out due to a strange anxiety that had built up inside of him since the moment Bitterbat stopped talking. Something deep inside of him wanted him to fly as far and fast from this battle as he could and he had to use all his will power to stay right where he was.

Bitterbat was the first to speak and it made everyone jolt due to many believing the live feed had suddenly been muted. His voice was much deeper than any had heard it. It was no longer the light and playful tone many associated with the villain. And that just made the situation even scarier for those watching.

"You dare call me the selfish creep when your accusations are merely the projections of your own actions?" Smoke leaked from Bitterbat's mouth as he spoke, deep violet and filled with high levels of toxin. "Your darling public might think you are a selfless saint but you are the biggest sinner around."

In seconds, Bitterbat's staff materialized in his hand and was jabbed into the asphalt of the street. A crack began to form from the road wound and spread toward Freebird's direction. More deep violet smoke began to billow from the crevices.

"And I promise you that a hell beyond your understanding is awaiting you with a gaping hungry maw"

Bitterbat finally smiled, and his mouth practically split his entire face in half with just how much it didn't fit on his humanly form. His fangs jutted from his mouth as razor sharp canines accompanied them. His long serpent tongue slithered out and flicked in the air, lapping up all the delicious fear that was leaking off the now trembling bird. His braid, the tip now pointed like a scorpion's tail, thrashed around in bloodlust.

The Monstrum wanted nothing more than to just kill him now and end the rest of Sweetheart's suffering. It would have been so easy with the way the hero was paralyzed in fear. Everyone was too stunned to even think of helping, including any heroes on standby for the fight. All Bitterbat really had to do was swing his staff and end it all in front of millions.

But as a sudden pink flash appeared in the sky, the King of Monsters remembered why he wasn't allowed.

Sweetheart descended, lowering herself right in the middle of Freebird and Bitterbat. She didn't want to land due to the fact Bitterbat was a foot taller than her-and her goal was ultimately to block Freebird from his view so he focused on just her. Her appearance seemed to bring some relief to everyone as the unsettling energy of what many believed to be Freebird's final day faded away. Even the smoke that was billowing from the road seemed to stop.

While everyone was frozen in fear back home, watching Bitterbat's monstrous transformation in real time, Sweetheart had been hauling ass to transform and arrive at the scene. She knew all the tell tale signs of Bitterbat's temperament worsening and when the mocking was on the way to becoming murdering.

The second it had become unclear if Bitterbat was going to remain restrained as he promised or if he was going to follow through on his many declarations to kill Freebird, Sweetheart knew she had to intervene.

Putting on her best heroic voice, she broke the silence.

"I think this battle has gone on long enough, boys." She did her best to sound playful but her eyes were locked on Bitterbat as she watched him very closely. Not in fear but to study him.

It was very clear to her that Bitterbat was enraged, even if he seemed calm to many right now. Her appearance might have eased some of that anger but it was still very present and still very much aimed at Freebird.

"I've never been more happy to see you, Sweetheart!" Freebird's tone was happy, under the false belief that he was out of the danger zone.

Sweetheart kept her eyes locked on Bitterbat. Every time his eyes flicked to try and look at Freebird, she moved so he would be looking at her instead. The magical girl responded, never taking her eyes off the Monstrum. "Yeah um, Freebird, I need you to get out of here while I deal with Bitterbat."

Freebird frowned. "But with the two of us, we could definitely deal with him now! Why would you want to go one-on-one with...that?" He gestured towards Bitterbat's...everything.

Sweetheart tried to hide the annoyance in her voice with determination. "Because I know Bitterbat better than any hero around and I don't want to risk you getting killed because of his unpredictability!"

Hearing a vague mention of the bond they shared made Bitterbat ease up a bit, the clutch on his staff loosening ever so slightly as he closed his mouth, his fangs now shrunken to their usual size to rest more comfortably in his powered down form. His braid had reverted from its scorpion tail appearance to being just hair again. The tip began to thump on the ground and the sound only got louder the longer he stared at Sweetheart.

Freebird wasn't budging. Holding in a groan at the obnoxiously protagonist coded man, Sweetheart floated closer towards Bitterbat so he was within arms reach. She watched as his eyes seemed to dilate at her approach, making him look less like an apex predator and more like an eager puppy.

Holding in an awe, Sweetheart couldn't think of any better way to make sure Bitterbat stayed put than to just simply...grab his face with her palm resting on the bridge of his nose so he hand no choice but to close his eyes. A trill of surprise came out of him but soon Sweetheart's entire arm vibrated from the force of him purring just from the skin contact.

Relieved Bitterbat was distracted enough, Sweetheart FINALLY looked towards Freebird.

"Bitterbat is my archenemy and isn't someone to take lightly. Only other Beloveds are capable of handling him. It'd be much safer if you left him to me."

Freebird took one step closer to Sweetheart and she had to squeeze Bitterbat's face as she heard his purring shift to growling.

Freebird replied, "I don't think it's safe for you to deal with that guy by yourself."

Sweetheart rolled her eyes, not even trying to hide it from the cameras-she could make an excuse about it to anyone who asked later. She responded, now growing tired of this back and forth, "I know that Bitterbat would never kill me. That makes me safer than anyone else on Earth...especially you as you were literally looking death in the face 10 seconds ago before I showed up."

Freebird would never acknowledge her being right about his fight or flight activating because he knew he was in danger. He merely crossed his arms with a smug grin. "So I'll take you showing up to save me as a sign you care?"

Every heroic bone in Sweetheart's body ached with a mighty need to let go of Bitterbat and just sick him on the bird. Bitterbat's tail began to wag as he sensed the desire in Sweetheart.

With the deepest sigh she thinks she's ever mustered in battle, Sweetheart replied one last time to Freebird as she settled on her next course of action.

"You can take me showing up to save you as a sign from some higher force that you should really pick and choose your battles much more carefully." Sweetheart allowed some sass to slip into her response. She was reminded of why it took her so long to jump into action while she was watching the scene unfold at home. Freebird was an egotistical dick and watching Bitterbat put him in his place was satisfying as hell.

Before Freebird had a chance to respond to her again, Sweetheart suddenly flew up into the sky, a tail ribbon grazing Bitterbat's cheek as a sign to follow her.

And follow he did as his focus had completely left Freebird and instead stuck to Sweetheart.

The two left in seconds, leaving nothing but swirling dust and cratered earth where Bitterbat had been standing seconds ago.

Freebird was left speechless at the sudden exit before chuckling to himself.

"Ah, she's crazy about me."

Meanwhile, miles into the sky away from Freebird, the fight scene and Decking City, Sweetheart groaned, loud and furiously. "I cannot STAND his ass. GOD he is such a prick!" She dragged her hands down her face as she flew past some clouds and a couple birds.

Bitterbat tailed her, humming blissfully as he enjoyed the sweet sounds of his girlfriend hating on his most disliked person. "Don't worry Sweetums, next time I have to deal with him, I'll make sure to slap him around a little~"

Sweetheart glanced over her shoulder to Bitterbat, the fear of hitting anything in front of her was nonexistent as the open air was much less congested than the city skylines.

"Define what you mean by 'a little'."

"A couple broken bones and bruises here and there. Nothing good ole hero healthcare can't fix."

Sweetheart pondered over the statement for a second before replying.

"Only one broken bone,"

Bitterbat trilled, his eyes lighting up in excitement. "One broken bone!? Oh, my Queen you're so generous to me~!"

Sweetheart added on "And it can't be either of his wings."

"Oh COME ON! You KNOW how badly I wanna break those! You can be as cruel as you are generous sometimes..." Bitterbat pouted, causing Sweetheart to giggle at his response.