#as this is apparently my current focus on thoughts about Jason
Text
I'm really serious about my posts how Jason is a girl because he represents so much of the girl experience and yes this is absolutely in the lane of DC accidentally writing something really good.
If you're a girl and you love Jason then you deserve to get a firm hug, a gun and a free purge day applicable to yourself only. You're only out for one person anyway and they deserve it, you go girl.
If you're a guy and you love Jason then you're on the right side of history and you get a long hug and forehead kiss and you deserve affirmation and love from your parental figure of choice.
If you're nb and love Jason then you deserve to punch the next person in the face who gets your pronouns repeatedly wrong despite corrections and you deserve a baseball bat to beat someone up with. Similar to the gun thing for girls just with a bit more fire to the anger and a bit less cold-hearted hate.
If you're trans and love Jason then whichever of the former applies + you get to sock someone in the jaw too for using your wrong pronouns or deadname + you deserve to meet someone who didn't know you before and sees only this you now and will never compare you to or grieve the person you used to be.
#jason todd#ramble#personal#wish fulfilment#jason as a victim power fantasy#but also Jason and the concept of gender#my boy is a girl who is a boy#and this is a hill I will die on#more posts about Jason and parallels to girlhood and such upcoming#as this is apparently my current focus on thoughts about Jason
37 notes
·
View notes
Text
I am back! And with the beginnings of some answers to the mysteries, though sadly not the full John Constantine lowdown! But I will make it up to you all with some Harley shenanigans!
There just wasn’t enough space to get them both in and of course Harley comes first, I stan a queen (Quinn)
We’re gonna take a much closer look in Brucie’s head this time too as he gets a bunch of new information and maybe some new trauma, so this chapter and the next will be a lil Bruce heavy
(Jason is thrilled, believe me)
First Chapter:
Previous Chapter:
———————
Yeah This Might As Well Happen
Jason really wished he could just focus on having a good time with his family. The food was, as always, exquisite, and Sam and Tucker were moaning happily along with the others.
It smelled great. It looked great. It tasted great, but something in the back of Jason’s head just wouldn’t switch off.
Not until Danny came back.
Even the thought that Danny might be in danger while he just ate dinner sat like a lead weight in his stomach.
The expanded aura… well. It kind of helped? Being practically choked by Danny’s presence, aware in every pore of his skin that Danny was there, was fine, wasn’t hurting, did help.
It just. Made it impossible to really think about anything else.
He was barely following the conversation, just reading the intricacies of Danny’s mood changes and losing track of sentences as people said them.
Finally, finally, Danny’s aura shifted again.
Done-got him-no big deal-coming back.
Jason almost sagged in his seat, shoulders unknotting marginally (they probably wouldn’t finish until he could see Danny and prove he was fine).
Sent impatient-relieved-happy-hurry back as well as he could, and nearly dropped his fork at the warm swell of affection he received in return.
Well.
Affection-amused-teasing.
Clearing his throat, Jason did his best to will away the heat along the back of his neck. Nope, he wasn’t gonna blush when Danny wasn’t even here to look at him while smothering him in those feelings.
And it was definitely just the pit curling up into a little buzzing ball of happiness in his chest. Definitely not actually Jason melting like snow under a blow torch.
Whatever.
Danny was fine, he’d be back soon and Alfred had saved them both plates. And sure, maybe something in Jason wouldn’t unclench until he could see Danny in person, but letting Alfred’s cooking go cold was a sin.
He dug into his still steaming plate, forcing his shoulders to relax a little. Tucker and Tim were still talking about tech, currently disparaging what the GIW thought were elite security measures.
Harley had lured Sam, Duke, and Cass into a discussion of her new place in Coney Island at the other end of the table, and yeah, Jason could get interested in that.
Someone might have already asked, but hey. He waited for a convenient pause and leaned in.
“Didn’t Croc move down there with you? He and Riddler attacked the gala last night,” he explained when Harley made a curious noise, head cocking to one side.
Her brow furrowed, so apparently the others hadn’t gotten this far yet. Not sure if he was glad or gonna tease them mercilessly later.
“He what? Yeah, he moved in, but he came back this way ta keep me company as I came up here. Someone’s tryin’ ta give me a hard time cuzza my criminal record, an’ they’re gettin’ intel from one of your local problems,” she added with a shrug, waving her hand.
Cuz yeah, that was also on the list; she’d been up with Ivy, neither of them noticeably causing trouble before apparently Ida Manson got them out of town.
Cass made a small noise of concern and Harley patted her hand, grinning.
“Oh, don’t you worry about me doll, it’s all under control. Thought it might be Pengy havin’ another go at my spot but he burst into tears when I walked in so it’s prob’ly not him,” she said with a very self satisfied smile.
Jason chuckled softly because… yeah, he could picture that. It tracked.
“Smart man,” Duke agreed with a snicker and Harley gave him a fist bump.
“Yeah, I’ll run ‘em down. But why was Waylon at the gala? He jus’ said he was gonna look inta some shit while I was gone,” Harley asked, looking around the table for an answer.
Jason shrugged.
“All their demands were for Harvey Dent. Apparently he was planning to make a run and they beat him to the punch,” he explained, in as much as he understood.
If no one else had a hand on Dent by tonight, he miiiight stretch one of his Red Hood patrols out of Crime Alley to go for a look see.
The man missed his party. The least Jason could do was pay a personal visit.
“Croc mentioned Jason,” Cass noted with a small frown, looking up at him with concern.
And, yeah, that was the other reason he was thinking of getting involved. He couldn’t imagine what the fuck he’d done as a civvie to annoy Dent.
Harley huffed, blowing blonde bangs off her face and lacing her fingers, pointing at Jason.
“Okay, so we gotta go talk to Waylon tomorrow and find out what’s goin’ on. He’s comin’ with me back to Coney when the time comes so he ain’t got time for Arkham,” she said firmly, and something settled in Jason’s gut.
Waylon had so badly wanted the Red Hood not to turn out like he had; another criminal permanently trapped in the system. Yeah, he’d like to return the favour.
Of course, not everyone in the room was up on all the secrets. Sam leaned forward, breaking her quiet streak that as far as Jason knew was her longest ever.
“Wait, you’re going to break that guy out of jail? He wanted to strap a bomb vest to Jason,” she said harshly, finally snapping Tim and Tucker out of their little happy world.
Jason raised both hands.
“He didn’t succeed.” Much as Danny had freaked out about it, Jason wasn’t gonna complain about things that hadn’t happened.
Too much like it actually happened every day, he’d never be done.
Oh. Maybe that was kinda why Danny had freaked out. That probably wasn’t good.
His personal revelation was dampened by Harley waving a hand easily.
“Nah nah nah, we’re not gonna break ‘im out tomorra. He’s gonna tell us what the fuck he was thinkin’, I’m gonna break Dent’s kneecaps, and Batsy’s gonna give a character statement an’ get ‘im released ta me for community service.”
And if any of that didn’t work, they could still just break Croc out the next day. Jason knew the unspoken corollary.
Tucker’s eyebrows raised and he said the very stupidest thing that Jason had ever heard from a genius, and he’d seen Tim on 72 hours of no sleep.
“You know Batman?” He asked incredulously.
Harley stared at him for a long moment. Then snickered.
“Yeah, we know each other from work,” she said dryly, waving her fork, “we go way back.”
The assorted bats snickered to themselves and Tucker sunk back in his chair a little, grinning sheepishly around the table.
“Yeah… sorry.”
Sam rolled her eyes, arms folded as she frowned down the table. She clearly had a bigger question, which was probably fair for anyone who didn’t know the combined Harley-and-bats history.
“And you think Batman will do you a favour? He’s not exactly known to listen to reason,” she pointed out half sarcastically. Not that anyone in the room would argue.
There was a reason Jason loved her.
Harley weighed her up for a moment, then grinned, leaning forward.
“Y’know, kid, I don’t think we were introduced. There’s somethin’ real familiar about you,” she mused, folding her arms on the table and leaning over them, plate slowly nudged aside.
Sam smirked and shrugged. They were meeting a lot of new people these past couple days, but if she’d been doing the gala circuit her whole life?
Yeah, this probably wasn’t the worst. Harley was better than Jason had ever met at a party.
“Sam Manson. Friend of Jason’s through Danny,” she added with a nod to the empty seat still between her and Jason.
Harley beamed, hiking forward onto the table a little more.
“Oh, you’d be Ida’s granddaughter then?” She asked brightly, clearly pleased to have been right. “Your granny’s a real doll, sent me and Ivy on a real sweet vacation this week.”
Sam chuckled softly and nodded, giving Harley a half apologetic half cocky smile.
“Yeah, that’d be my fault. I’m not allowed to come to Gotham if there’s a chance Poison Ivy is in town,” she explained, fingers on her left hand tapping against her right arm.
Both of Harley’s brows went up.
“Oh? Are they scared somethin’ might happen to ya?” She asked, tone already very firmly suggesting she knew the answer.
So did most of the rest of the table, though Duke hadn’t actually heard the explanation last night. Not like he needed to, having met Sam for more than five minutes.
Sam didn’t disappoint. She gave another elegant half shrug, her smile turning fully dark.
“Oh, more the opposite. They think I’ll run off and join her if I see her,” she said innocently. Across the table, Tucker snorted most of a laugh.
A moment later Harley joined him, tossing her head back and laughing.
“Yeah, that sounds like Ida’s girl,” she agreed, wiping a dainty tear from her eye, “she was a real spitfire in her younger days, the stories she told Ivy when they were protestin’ together were wild.”
Sam was practically glowing with pride, and Jason had to admit that he would kinda like to meet her grandmother. He’d met her parents, and… well, maybe awesome skipped a generation.
Harley suddenly stopped, head cocking as she noticed something, a sly smile creeping across her face.
“So if they think you’ll run away with Ivy… whadda they think’ll happen if ya run into me?” She asked with a delicately studied innocence, examining her nails.
“Only good things,” Cass offered, grinning past Jason at Sam. Sam grinned back, giving Harley a shrug and a similarly innocent smile.
“Y’know, they’ve just never mentioned it. Clearly there’s no concerns there,” she agreed, and Jason snickered, raising his glass in a toast.
“None here,” he noted and Sam laughed, clinking her glass against his. Dick raised a hand, fighting a laugh.
“One concern for the integrity of Bruce’s skull?” He offered innocently, and laughed when Jason threw a napkin at him.
“If Bruce’s skull was gonna break it’d have done it years ago,” Steph opined as the voice of experience. Jason raised his glass to her too, but she was a little far to clink.
She grabbed hers up and raised it back anyway, and Sam filled the gap, clinking hers to Jason’s and then to Steph’s to pass it on.
“It’s good for him ta get his eggs scrambled,” Harley agreed from the other end of the table, raising her glass too, “and I’m gonna guess you did some percussive maintenance too that I’ll ask about later.”
“Bruce might still have a concussion,” Duke offered, not completely certain where he sat with this kind of joking, but the kid was new.
You had to watch Bruce try and kill himself going out on patrol with more bones broken than whole a couple times before you gave in to his indestructibility.
Shit, maybe he should ask Danny if Bruce was liminal. For all the guy was technically a default human, Jason knew literal aliens with a better grasp on humanity.
And ghosts, now.
Harley gave him a nod anyway and patted his hand.
“I’ll aim low then sugar, don’t you fret. But to answer yer other question, Sam, Batman’s gonna get Waylon out for me cuz he doesn’t want ‘im in Arkham any more ‘n we do. Bats wants us all ta get better, and Waylon does best left alone,” she explained with a shrug.
“Until you leave him unsupervised and he teams up with Riddler?” Tim asked with a slight smile.
Jason shook his head, leaning forward on his arms too.
“He wouldn’t do it for no reason. He asked what I’d done to upset Two Face, but I can’t think of anything.” They didn’t even cross paths often.
Dent had taken Red Hood’s claim on Crime Alley as a given, learned quickly that Jason didn’t give a shit about playing nice, and minded his business.
“You sound like you know him pretty well,” Tucker said with a slight frown, and Jason shrugged.
Yeah, Tucker wasn’t in on the Robin thing yet. Luckily there was an easy answer.
“I grew up in Gotham. You guys keep coming back and you’ll get a feel for most of ‘em too.”
Tucker hesitated for a moment, probably thinking back to Amity and their own ghostly rogues. Then he nodded, settling back to poke at his mostly finished plate.
Tim still didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t know Waylon the way Jason did. They’d never had the chance to talk beyond the usual Robin-and-Rogue.
Jason could prove his point tomorrow. Maybe bring Danny along.
And like the thought summoned him, Jason’s phone buzzed to a text from Danny.
‘DannyP: who tf is Constantine??👀👀🤣’
**
Bruce sucked in a deep breath, eye closing, and forced himself to exhale.
He fucking hated magic.
So. Analysis.
From what he understood of Constantine’s general capabilities, him being difficult to find by malicious forces was not unexpected. That seemed credible.
Did Bruce count as a malicious force?
A stern self inventory, past the part that insisted he’d never wish harm on a teammate on principle, and… yes.
He would never have followed the impulse, would have stomped it down the moment he found the man, but he couldn’t deny the urge to lay hands was there.
He’d even been devising new layers of paperwork to insist the man fill out. With, yes, malice in his heart. Just a little bit of spite.
If that counted into making the man impossible to contact… well, he’d bear it in mind. And talk with Zatanna and Dr Fate and see it they could fine tune those wards a little more.
No matter how angry he was about Amity Park, he didn’t want anything actually harmful to happen to a colleague. Even this colleague. Although if he had to pick one…
No. That wasn’t a helpful train of thought.
Taking another steadying breath, this one slower and more evenly, he glanced down at the car. Danny wouldn’t hear anything while inside, but that wouldn’t stop him opening a door to ask what the hold up was.
Forcing Brucie’s casual tones on was harder than normal, but that was expected.
“I can’t really talk about that right now. Can you come by to visit tonight?” Bruce paused, checking his watch. Coming up on seven. “In an hour or so?”
*
The smile dropped off Constantine’s face as quickly as it had formed. Of fucking course the bat wanted everyone to run around to his fuckin’ schedule.
Raising hell for John all fuckin’ night and all fuckin’ day but when John actually got back to him it was all “oh now’s not a good time”.
His more spiteful side wanted to insist on right now, he was a busy man and he had shit to do that Batman wouldn’t even wanna fuckin’ think about.
Shit, John didn’t like thinking about it.
But it was only an hour, and he could use the damn zeta tubes, and it wasn’t like he’d been planning on fuckin’ sleeping. Why would he do that?
And if it unfucked his communicators, he could use that hour to ask the Superboys what the fuck they were playing at in Alaska.
And then he could sleep, Bat off his ass and conscience clean. Fuck it.
“Yeah, whatever. Wanna tell me what’s got your damn panties in a twist in case there’s shit I need to get ready?”
So of course Bat-tastic said the two worst words Constantine had heard in his life.
“Amity Park.”
Fuck.
**
Bruce didn’t enjoy the sharp little intake of breath, followed by no sass whatsoever. It wasn’t easy to make John Constantine speechless.
No, this was definitely just satisfaction that the man knew the gravity of what he’d done. That whatever reasons he’d had, he knew Bruce would be waiting for a damn good explanation.
That there might be one.
Bruce didn’t like even considering that an ally would have done something so serious just because he didn’t want to deal with it. Even Constantine.
When the man hadn’t spoken almost a minute later, Bruce took pity on him.
“I’ll see you in an hour.”
Constantine managed a weak agreement and he nodded, satisfied at least that the man would still be there. And if he wasn’t, Bruce could work out a way to reach him again.
Someone had obviously found him to tell him Bruce was looking for him. And apparently there were consequences for Constantine too if he tried to avoid him.
He hesitated for a moment before getting back into the car. He’d been planning to ask Danny gently about Amity Park, to try and work out what had happened.
Something light that might make him lower his guard. Then turn the subject to Jason. How precisely Danny was helping him. What he knew of the pits.
They wouldn’t have time for a full interrogation, not even in the tail end of rush hour traffic, but it would be a start.
But did he want to tip his hand now? Before Constantine gave him the truth about Amity Park, when all it would take was a matter of hours?
Danny likely knew that Brucie was a mask, but it might be useful to keep it on just a little longer.
Light subjects only then. From what Dick and Tim had reported, Danny was equally likely to just drop some huge revelation to see what Bruce would do.
Yes.
Perhaps he could bait that tendency by being innocuous.
Bruce slid back into the driver’s seat, giving Danny his best, emptiest smile.
“So sorry about that. Just a business contact I’ve been having trouble tracking down, so I didn’t want to let him slip away again.” Honesty, in case he could tell.
They would need to get a better idea of Danny’s power-set. If Duke couldn’t do it alone, perhaps Tim’s observation skills could help.
Danny barely glanced up from his phone, shooting Bruce a quick grin before returning his attention to the screen.
“Yeah? Didn’t know anything got done over the new year, I’d have thought everyone was too hung over.” It sounded like a joke, a cheerful prod.
Bruce swore internally anyway, because he was right. Clearly he knew more than an average student.
He didn’t let it show, chuckling along good naturedly.
“Oh I’d have much preferred getting this done with before the new year, but some people are a little hard to get hold of,” he explained jovially, starting the car and backing out.
Danny hummed an agreement, not looking up from his phone. A sharp glance (he could always say he was checking the boy was strapped in) did not show him the screen.
When had Danny strapped in? Bruce would swear he hadn’t when he’d sat, but it was there now.
Clearly his apparent absorption was a trick. Intended to remind Bruce of a typical young adult, make him lower his guard.
Danny stifled a laugh just as they were leaving the garage, and Bruce barely resisted another effort to look over. The screen would still be tilted away.
His opponent was a cunning one.
Or he was overreacting. It could be a real innocence, not a calculated one. A young man paying more attention to his phone?
He wouldn’t have thought it sinister if it were Tim, Dick, Duke, any of their friends.
No.
He couldn’t take that chance. Not with Jason. He couldn’t afford to relax his guard.
It was unfair to Danny, unfair to both of them.
He’d lost Jason once by not paying close enough attention, and Bruce would be the very first to admit that he’d never gotten his boy back.
Jason had returned in body, mind, and soul, just like he’d wished and prayed for for so long. But there was a distance now that Bruce had no idea how to bridge.
He’d thought he was on the right path last night, but a constant nagging in his gut told him he was wrong.
Every time he closed his eyes he saw Jason’s shocked, white face when he’d apologised. It was a blessing he’d had enough to keep him from his bed.
He’d been so sure it was the right move. The next step to closing the distance between them. Offering Jason the public apology, the acknowledgement that Bruce had failed him.
But that was why Bruce would face gods and walk backwards into Hell before he let anything else try and take his baby boy from him again.
“Y’know, you could just tell Jason you love him.”
Bruce nearly crashed the car.
Luckily they were at a red light, so his reflexive slamming hit the brake, not the gas, and the car barely lurched.
When he was sure his heart was still beating, he chanced a glance over at Danny.
The boy was half smirking down at his phone, clearly aware of the consternation he’d caused, and looked up when he felt Bruce’s eyes on him.
And shrugged, like it was nothing.
“Dude, you’re brooding so hard there’s basically a black cloud over your head.”
Add mind reading to the list of suspected powers.
Bruce felt his eyes narrowing before rigid control snapped back into place, keeping his expression Brucie-open.
“What do you mean?” He asked, in a tone he knew gave nothing away.
Danny snorted like he’d told a joke.
“Man, I’m just saying. Jason barely thinks you fuckin’ like him, it’d save you both a lot of trouble if you’d just sit him down and tell him how you feel.”
Bruce hesitated for a long moment, staring into deep blue eyes that suddenly seemed as deep and unreadable as the deepest ocean. As old as time.
Then he forced his eyes back to the road as the light turned and cars started moving again.
That. Couldn’t be true. It was an attempt at manipulation.
A predator expertly analysing what he thought was Bruce’s greatest weakness, striking to do as much damage as he could.
Of course Jason knew that Bruce loved him. He must have. He had to.
There was no way this stranger who by all accounts Jason had known for barely a week could know more about Jason’s life than his own father.
**
Danny hummed softly to himself, most of his attention on his phone as he texted back and forth with Jason.
‘DannyP: ur dad is giving me the biggest cop energy rn 😳🚔🚔’
Mostly ignoring just the solid waves of angst emanating from Bruce like miasma. Poor guy was only wrapping himself tighter in his own head for Danny’s interjection.
‘JTodd: Yeah Dickie comes by it honestly.’
That was probably a sign Danny shouldn’t do it again.
‘DannyP: 👀👀 think he’s mad at me’
Danny wasn’t great at following signs. Or sitting quietly, in all honesty.
‘JTodd: No one told you not to fly back.’
‘DannyP: Imma make it worse 😈😈’
Tucking his feet up to the edge of his seat, he slumped down as low as he could, glancing up at Bruce through his bangs.
“Sooooooo, how was lunch with Vlad? You seem to have survived, so I’m gonna guess football didn’t come up much?” He prodded, still half suspecting Masters had been up to something.
Bruce wasn’t overshadowed, didn’t have any of Vladdie’s taint that said it had happened in the past, but Danny wasn’t gonna rule out something new.
And all the clenching the big guy was doing on the wheel and on his jaw looked kinda painful.
‘JTodd: I’ll give a touching speech at your funeral.’
Bruce did finally force himself to relax though, sucking in a breath like he’d forgotten he had to.
Mood. Danny forgot about breathing a fair chunk too. Didn’t always remember to do it at all.
His posture changed too, shifting forcefully back to the more lax, open lines of his public persona, but there wasn’t much point. Danny could still feel his aura locked shut like a steel trap.
Being Batman kinda seemed like it sucked so far, and Bruce hadn’t even been a high school hero. Guess being an adult didn’t really make everything easier after all.
The smile he shot Danny didn’t show any of the inner turmoil though, so kudos there.
“It was great, actually. Your godfather is a very charming man,” he added, and Danny stuck his tongue out.
“Oh we’re so not calling him that. He’s just Vladdie, nothing to do with me at all,” he corrected vehemently, making a face.
Checked his phone.
‘DannyP: ABORT ABORT ABORT MISSION HE LIKES VLAD 😡🤮😱’
Bruce made a curious noise beside him, and Danny huffed. There were some things that would have been simpler if Vlad had just been brain washing him.
“Oh? He speaks very highly of you, Danny. I’m a little surprised you don’t get along.” The big guy was clearly fishing, and Danny would give him something to catch alright.
“Yeah? Cuz all he’s ever said to me was that I’m weak, lazy, unmotivated, and will never amount to anything without him. Oh, and that he wants to kill my dad and marry my mom,” he added as an afterthought.
And watched Bruce from the corner of his eye. He looked honestly surprised, but Danny had already learned not to judge from his face.
He felt surprised too though. Surprised and suspicious.
‘JTodd: He’s a great judge of character.’
Fuck it was hard not to laugh at his just flawless acting when Danny had the cheat sheet into his heart.
They drove in silence for a block, Bruce apparently not sure what to say, and Danny gave him a pat on the elbow.
“Don’t feel bad. I dunno what he’s playing at either, but he’s really, really good at telling people what they want to hear.”
And didn’t that do some interesting things to the guy’s aura. Danny had to bite the inside of his lip to keep from laughing.
No matter what he fucking said, it seemed to be convincing Bruce that he was sketchier and sketchier.
‘DannyP: okay but literally every word i say’s making him more and more suspicious and he didn’t even get whammied this is bs 😔😒💔’
He did kinda regret that one pretty much immediately, a sudden wave of protective anger pulsing through his aura.
Making a face again, he focused on wrapping Jason up in his own, soothing him with gentle reminders safe-safe-i’m fine-not hurting me.
Yeah, there were some fucking Issues with a capital I that Danny deadass just wasn’t gonna touch until Jazz got a look in.
No matter what though, he didn’t fucking like what it told him about Bruce. About Jason’s relationship with Bruce.
Maybe he shoulda brought the Fenton thermos. He usually had one on him, but his suit hadn’t come with pockets you could hide a thermos in.
For all Sam bitched about her dress, she coulda carried a rocket launcher and no one would have known.
He was so busy focusing on Jason he didn’t actually notice that Bruce was talking to him again until the man had repeated his name a couple of times, now sounding worried.
Feeling suspicious. Sounding worried.
“Danny?”
Danny shook his head, hair flopping around his face and half his attention still on Jason’s cranky ass.
“Sorry, didn’t catch that,” he said still half distracted, and felt the suspicion ramp up another notch.
For all that he couldn’t laugh aloud, wrapping the desire and the need to laugh around Jason seemed to be helping. He settled enough to text back anyway.
‘JTodd: Sorry. Probably my fault.’
Well that was bullshit.
“I said I’m sorry, Danny. He mentioned you had a difficult past, but I had no idea…”
And yeah, that probably was too. Easy to prioritise though.
‘DannyP: ur gonna be Jazz’s final psych project if u keep that up and i will not save u 😤🫡👻’
‘DannyP: 🖕💋he’s a grown ass adult and so am i and i can be a sketchy bitch just fine on my own sir’
And since Bruce was going to take whatever he did as suspicious anyway, Danny might as well get him warmed up for Harley.
“Yeah, well, don’t go throwing a public party to all of high society about it. Trust me, I do not need a second creepy billionaire trying to make me a show pony.”
Another block of silence, but Danny was satisfied that this one was at least less certain. Felt like a big decision was afoot.
Finally Bruce sighed and deflated, and for once his aura matched the gesture.
“It was a mistake, wasn’t it?” It almost wasn’t a question. Danny figured that progress deserved a reward anyway. Kinda.
“Well again, Harley Quinn came back from the Amazon to kick your ass about it, so yes. I think we can both agree that was a bad life choice.”
Bruce’s grip tensed on the steering wheel a little and Danny relented. Fuck him for being a softie.
Even when he was also still kinda pissed, it was hard to ignore the sudden doubt, fear, guilt suddenly stinking up the car.
The anger, much more familiar. Danny knew exactly what to do about angry people, but Bruce’s anger felt a little too familiar. A little too internal-only.
“He said you’d never told him you were sorry before, man. Not even once until you shoved him right into the spotlight. What does it say that you can say it to me but not him?” He asked softly.
Bruce was quiet for most of the rest of the drive, but since he actually seemed to be thinking about what Danny had said, Danny left him to it.
It was as they were finally pulling up to the gates of Wayne Manor that he spoke again.
“I may not have been much of a father to Jason, but I won’t see him hurt again. Not if I can help it.” There wasn’t actually any menace in the tone.
Just a stone cold certainty that was way, way scarier.
Well. Probably for anyone who wasn’t the actual ghost king. Or just uncontrollably sarcastic.
Danny grinned.
“Well if this is gonna be your shovel talk, you should be aware that I’ve already been six feet under. It takes a lot to scare me,” he teased, resting his bare feet on the console in front of him.
Outside, the gate swung slowly open. Bruce took advantage of the pause to stare directly at him again, those blue eyes suddenly piercing and not even trying to hide the intelligence within.
“Noted.”
And okay. Maybe Danny needed to invest in some more one liners, cuz that was way fucking cooler than any complicated threat or pun.
Kinda hated how cool it was, actually.
He let just a little of the eldritch creep into the smile he gave back.
“Oh, and Bruce? Samesies. Seems like Jason has a lot more people who have his back than he thinks he does, but now? He’s also got me. And Harley’s probably the nice one.”
If the guy was going to think the fucking worst of Danny no matter what, might as well use that to try and make him be a less shitty dad.
Shovel talking the Ghost King? That took some balls.
Bruce didn’t seem to be noticeably intimidated though. Just stared at Danny for a long moment, eyes narrowed, before he nodded again.
“You don’t know Harley well,” he remarked dryly, heading on up the ridiculously long driveway to the house.
Danny didn’t actually manage to pull all the way back into human tones before he laughed, the shadows stretching and creaking around the sound.
“Yeah, fair point.” He sure as shit wouldn’t argue it where she could hear him after all.
**
It took Steph to finally bring the conversation back around to the thermos.
They’d moved on to telling Harley the actual details of what had happened at the gala, from Bruce’s crimes to Sam and Danny’s.
Harley was absolutely delighted by the whole story, and it was Steph who gave Sam a gentle nudge, grinning at her.
“Y’know, I never got around to asking why you even had that giant thermos. I was with you most of the night and I never saw you drinking from it?” She asked.
Sam chuckled softly, reaching into the deep pocket of Cass’s pants and pulling out the thermos in question. She always had one on her.
Tucker was supposed to as well, but if he knew she was gonna be there? Yeah, he tended to forget. Or save the space for something more interesting.
“Oh, this? Yeah this really isn’t a drinking thermos,” she explained, setting it on the table and sharing an amused glance with Tucker.
Maybe side eying Jason. It was gonna be a drinking thermos for him, poor bastard.
Steph’s eyebrows rose and she reached out, taking the thermos when Sam nodded her assent. Turning it over in her hands.
“Wait, so it’s strictly a combat thermos?” She asked like it was a joke, grinning at Sam as she unscrewed the lid.
Tucker stifled a laugh from across the table and Sam grinned back, leaning back in her chair. The table had been cleared of dinner by now, but dessert they’d wait on Bruce and Danny for.
Speaking of Danny…
“Actually, yeah. The Fenton Thermos is pretty much our best tool for the rogue attacks we get in Amity Park,” she explained with a modest shrug.
Steph looked even more surprised, hefting the unexpected weight of what looked like an empty thermos.
“It made a pretty good throwing weapon,” Dick offered from the end of the table. Tucker snickered and shook his head, holding out a hand to Steph.
“It’s not actually meant to be for throwing, but that definitely worked,” he agreed, gesturing for the thermos.
Turning it to show the table, Tucker pointed to the big green button on the side. The big, obvious green button that you could pretty easily press by accident.
“You can capture ghosts with it once they’ve been weakened, and then Danny lets them out back in the Ghost Zone. It doesn’t actually hurt them, but apparently it’s not comfortable.”
“How do you know, if it only catches ghosts?” Duke asked, a slight frown on his face and he leaned forward to see around Tim.
Tucker shot him a smug grin, twirling the thermos and passing it back to Sam. Clearly enjoying his time in the spotlight, and Sam wouldn’t begrudge him that.
Not when she could bully him about showing off for his new boyfriend later. It was kinda cute watching that hero worship turning into an actual proper crush.
Cuter that Tim was being just an average guy, and Tucker was still losing his shit over it. Sweet revenge for all those times the boys teased her about her crush on Val.
“Well, for one thing pretty much all of our ghosts have stopped trying to attack these days, and some of them are actually pretty chill? Buuuut you can also use it to catch half ghosts,” Tucker explained with a smug grin.
Sam chuckled, taking the cap back from Steph and screwing it back on.
“Danny says it’s like being squished into a really tight sleeping bag. Worse if someone else is in there with him, but they can’t really move or fight in there.”
“If someone’s been a real pain in the ass sometimes Danny keeps them in Soup Time for a week or so as punishment,” Tucker added, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms behind his head.
“Isn’t that unethical?” Dick asked, down beside Damian, and Sam raised an eyebrow at him.
“Oh, do the people you arrest only get locked up for a day or so?” She asked dryly and Dick grinned, raising both hands.
“They don’t get locked in really tight sleeping bags. But what happens after they’re let out? They just go back in the Ghost Zone?” He prodded, not quelled by her stare this time.
Good. More fun when people fought back. And, for a cop, Dick wasn’t really all that bad.
He’d probably get fired for that pretty soon.
Sam shrugged, taking over the explanation for now and tucking the thermos back into her pocket.
“Pretty much. Most of the ghosts pretty much just showed up to fight Phantom and the trouble they caused around town was part of that.”
“Phantom being Danny’s superhero name?” Tim asked, looking extremely covetously at where the thermos had disappeared under the table.
Sam stuck her hand in the top of the pocket, keeping it on the lid of the thermos. They didn’t exactly have enough to spare.
Of course Tucker swept in when his boytoy had a question.
“Yeah, that’s him. The town used to call him Inviso-Bill until he actually told someone to call him Phantom instead,” he added, snickering.
Sam couldn’t resist chuckling along; honestly, if she ever learned who’d started that nickname she’d send them flowers. It was fucking priceless.
“Yeah. There were some rowdier ghosts, usually when their Obsessions got triggered, but honestly? Once they were beaten most of them settled down. It was just the ones that wanted to brawl with Danny that kept coming back.”
“We didn’t really have anything else to do with them either,” Tucker pointed out with a snicker, shaking his head, “it was Soup Time, back home, or the Fenton family dissection table.”
Their hosts looked suitably disturbed at that, Harley leaning in from her end of the table to be the voice of the room.
“The Fenton family what the fuck? Didn’t ya say the kid was a Fenton?” She asked sharply.
Sam ran a quick mental check of the list Danny had cleared them to talk about. Yeah, the Fenton parents were on it.
Just not the Ghost King stuff, anything about Jason, and anything specific about Ellie. No worries there.
She shrugged again, fingers tapping on the table. From her guess and Jason’s texting, Danny should be back soon.
“The Fenton parents were the ones who made a portal to the Ghost Zone in the first place. They were really interested in dissecting and studying any ghosts they could catch for a long time,” she explained dryly, not bothering to hide her feelings on the matter.
Duke looked a little sick. Maybe she should tone it down some, for the young and innocent among them.
“But that’d include Danny,” Dick pointed out, suspicion rising towards horror.
Sam fixed her gaze on him, not letting him look away.
“Yeah. It did. Which is why the three of us spent our high school years fighting ghosts and protecting the town in secret, cuz if we told anyone we thought Danny would go on the table.”
“They totally took it way better than we thought though,” Tucker tacked on quickly, searching something up on his PDA, probably for pictures of the GAV. “They’re Phantom’s biggest fans now.”
He tilted the screen to show Tim, whose jaw dropped.
Yeah, to be fair, words didn’t do the GAV’s new paint job justice. Tucker passed the tablet on to Tim to show Duke and Harley, and it made its way around the table.
They were probably running out of time.
Sam leaned in, catching the attention of the rest of the table and making eye contact with most of them.
“Some basic etiquette though, before Danny gets back? You never, ever ask a ghost how they died. They might bring it up, but you don’t ask. Okay?”
“Wait, why not?” Tim asked, his brows furrowing as he turned back to her. “Isn’t that the first thing they do in all those ghost hunting shows?”
Which. Well. Sam had a whole special rant about ghost hunting shows and their bullshit, but before she got started Jason cut her off.
“Cuz dying fucking sucks, Timmy. Do you wanna bug Steph or Dick about the times they died?” He asked pointedly, and Tim flushed.
Yeah, that kinda explained the death taint Sam could just about taste from half the table. She wasn’t going to mention it, because she had some damn manners.
Tim seemed to have gotten the point though, stammering a quick apology and sinking back into his seat. Tucker gave him a conciliatory pat on the shoulder.
“Pretty much the first thing you gotta learn about real ghosts is that ghost hunters have no idea what they’re doing. They don’t even ecto infuse their tech,” he added with a derisive snort.
Sam rolled her eyes, stifling a grin. Alfred had disappeared, which probably meant Danny was imminent.
“Harder to do without a ghost or half ghost on your team, Tuck. But more to the point, do you guys wanna see the Fenton Thermos in action?” She asked innocently, pulling it back out of her pocket to wiggle.
Once again, Harley spoke for the table.
“Hell yeah. Are ya gonna throw it at Brucie again too?” She asked brightly, and Sam paused, considering.
Finally sighed and shook her head.
“Probably not. I’ll let you handle him,” she decided, smirking as Harley reached back down for her trusty bedazzled bat.
“That’s what the ol’ Therapy Bat’s for,” Harley agreed brightly, getting to her feet. She’d clearly clocked Alfred’s exit too. And the approaching sets of footsteps.
Sam grinned and readied the thermos.
**
Bruce had almost forgotten that Harley would be waiting until Danny reminded him. An unusual lapse for him, but he had a lot on his mind.
The only thing he wanted to do was get down to the cave and talk to Constantine; to finally get some answers, both on what had gone wrong in Amity Park and precisely what was keeping them out now.
He had the very tiniest bit of hope that one question might also hold the answer to the other; that it was perhaps something Constantine had done, or could undo.
He did not like having to rely on biased secondary sources for data. It was frustrating to run into so many dead ends.
Luckily for him though, Danny had reminded him, which meant he could take Harley aside, find out what she wanted, and get it dealt with instead of going straight to the cave and being surprised.
As little as he liked John Constantine, he wouldn’t subject the man to Harley if he could help it. Harley was something of a kryptonite to many of the magicians; she broke their rules in ways they couldn’t reconcile.
Bruce absolutely did not doubt Zatanna that Harley had temporarily sold herself to a demon prince and within 24 hours annoyed him so much that he gave her back, deal intact.
She was a force to be reckoned with. And privately… Bruce would hang up the cowl if Constantine decided he wanted to give her methods a try on top of his own.
No. Best keep them as far away from each other as possible.
So he was accompanying Danny and Alfred to the family dining room, where he’d collect Harley and take her to his office.
Half an hour to get through whatever she wanted, and then he could go down and talk to Constantine. The perfect plan.
Part of him hoped that Danny had been right, and she was here to explain what he’d done wrong with Jason.
Bruce would be the first to admit that he just… couldn’t seem to do right when it came to his second son.
He loved Jason dearly, but his death was something Bruce had never gotten over. He’d seen Jason so many times, as he died and as Bruce imagined he’d have grown over those years.
It had been hard for him to believe Jason really was himself, even if he looked nothing like Bruce had always expected. He’d always been so small.
No. He’d refused to believe it. Refused to believe the kind, loving boy he’d known could have become this large and angry killer.
It had coloured their relationship ever since. The things Jason had done, the things Bruce had done to stop him.
The fury with which Jason had forced his real identity down Bruce’s throat until he couldn’t deny it anymore. The one person he thought he could never let down again.
Jason was calmer now. Had a lid on the rage, and just plain walked away when he was on the edge of his control. Bruce admired that, as much as he could.
The only thing Bruce knew how to do with his emotions was push them aside and try to keep soldiering on, and it had cost his family so many times.
He’d thought he was getting better, but when it came to Jason… Bruce knew he still wasn’t thinking clearly. He’d upset Jason at the gala, he knew he had.
He’d seen it in his face, even if Jason had covered it before reaching the stage. He just wasn’t sure how.
Bruce prided himself on his ability to read faces. He was certainly no Cass, but it was his most used skill. Jason’s had never been a mystery to him before.
But somehow all Bruce could see in the older Jason’s face was the shadows of the bruises, the beating that face had worn the last time Bruce held him in his arms.
Cold. Lifeless. A death mask that only ever seemed to clear under Lazarus green rage.
He didn’t know when his baby boy had become so unreadable to him. What part of the horrors which Jason had lived through had made him put on a mask so thick Bruce couldn’t see through it.
And he was afraid to ask. Afraid of what he might see under that mask, and afraid to hear everything Jason had been put through because of Bruce’s failure.
He could have asked Danny in the car. At least where he’d gone wrong last night. They’d been alone, without anyone to overhear. And yet…
Bruce couldn’t bring himself to trust Danny. Oddly he found himself liking the boy more since Danny had threatened him, but his doubts remained.
Vlad had been personable, charming, and open during their meal together, and Bruce knew all too well how vile men could put on a front like that.
Normally he would have trusted Danny’s impression of Vlad over his own implicitly; it was part of the reason he brought his children to galas.
Brucie Wayne was too well known, too powerful, too influential. No one wanted to show him anything but their best, the sides they thought he would like to see.
The truest measure of a person came in the way they treated those they saw as beneath them, and for most adults that would automatically always include children.
Danny’s words tracked with the odd moments of quiet regret in Masters’ face when he talked about his godson. Far more egregious than the “misunderstandings” he’d hinted at, but a testament nonetheless.
There had been no trace of a lie in Danny’s voice or face. And yet.
There was no fear either. Not a trace of concern at being alone in the room together before Bruce returned.
None of the wariness one would naturally expect when a young man faced a much older adult who had at the very least made serious threats towards his family and possibly psychologically abused him.
It didn’t make sense. There was no right or wrong way to respond to an abuser, but Danny’s open antagonism of Vlad pointed at something else. A piece Bruce was still missing of what passed between them.
There were too many unanswered questions about Danny Fenton, and the situation with Jason was too delicate to rely on a single unknown factor.
No.
Danny may take advantage of any perceived weakness to steer him wrong, push him to another mistake, widen the rift between Bruce and his son.
It wasn’t safe. Wasn’t the plan.
For all that she’d been a rogue, Bruce trusted Harley implicitly… at least in matters of the heart. On the off chance she was there for anything else, he could still ask her before she left.
Maybe after he was done with Constantine.
Of course no one was around to give him answers when he had plenty of spare time on his hands. No, they had to come all at once.
Fine.
He may have to leave Jason with Danny for now, but they would hardly be unsupervised. The others would keep a watch for him while he got answers.
Bruce was actually beginning to feel pretty good about the evening by the time they reached the dining room.
And then the door opened, Danny walked through, and vanish in a blur of bright blue light.
Bruce threw up a hand to shield his eyes as light flashed across him, and it went dark a moment later.
Sam Manson was holding the thermos again (his head throbbed a warning), screwing the lid back on with a satisfied smirk.
Danny Fenton was gone. Just gone. Like he’d never been there, until.
“I fucking hate you so much.”
That was Danny’s voice, no doubt about it, coming from… the thermos.
What.
As Steph would say.
The fuck.
**
Harley was the first to recover her voice, throwing both hands into the air and whooping.
“Now THAT is what I call a party trick! You kids ever wanna come out Coney Island way ya can stay with me an’ take a turn at th’ Freakshow if ya want!”
The room froze, temperature actually plummeting as the Amity Parkers both flinched.
(Danny mighta also flinched but he was in a soup thermos, it was harder to tell.)
Tucker spoke up, making a face and exchanging a look with Sam.
“Uh… pass, thanks. Had some pretty bad experiences with clowns and circuses,” he explained, and Harley nodded understandingly.
No matter how much he liked to pretend he was, Joker was hardly the first asshole to wear the face paint.
It was why she didn’t wear hers if she was gonna be anywhere around Jason.
Not like she’d liked the full face stuff Joker did anyway. She could have a lot more fun with eyeshadow and a little lipstick, but some people needed to be terrified.
Harley Quinn’s war paint was satisfyingly terrifying enough that she’d pull it out for special occasions.
“Yeah, that’s fair,” she agreed easily, noted the air began to warm.
So it was one of them doing it. And from the way the two she could see relaxed just after, she’d put her money on Danny. Made sense with the ghost thing.
Anyway, she’d come here for a reason. Strolling casually over towards Brucie, she ruffled a hand through Jason’s and then Sam’s hair.
“Yer all still welcome to come visit though, just call ahead an’ I’ll tell the crew to put the theatrics on hold. I got a whole floor full of puppies and kittens that need some love,” she told them cheerfully.
And paused at a sudden horrible ripping sound, like part of the universe had been velcro and just pulled itself apart.
A glowing green hole opened just behind Sam’s chair and Danny’s head poked through, just a little below Harley’s height.
“You have a fucking what?”
She ruffled his hair too, grinning.
“Yeah, building I inherited had a free floor my aunt used ta rent, I didn’t want anyone upsettin’ my crew and all these lil cuties were just wasting away at the pound so Ivy did me up an indoor park. There’s about thirty of ‘em,” she explained brightly.
Sam snickered, settling comfortably in her turned chair.
“Bet cleaning up after that many is a treat,” she commented dryly and Harley tipped her a wink.
“It’s no trouble! I do the scoopin’ and once a week we load the big bags up on th’ roof catapult and shoot ‘em into the city. At the mayor’s house if he’s bein’ trouble.”
“Harley, I have a theory about who might want you gone,” Duke put in from the other end of the table, all dry sarcasm.
Harley laughed and blew him a kiss, giving her bat a lazy twirl.
“Hey, if he wants me ta stop all he’s gotta do is stop bein’ a pain in my ass an’ I’ll shoot ‘em at the dump,” she told him cheerfully, then turned back to Danny.
Back in the black hair. Didn’t seem like it mattered if he was actively a ghost or not gettin’ sucked inta the thermos. Interesting.
“You need a tow out?” She asked, other hand dropping back to his hair to give a gentle tug.
Danny gave her a slightly suspicious look.
“Do you promise no mind control or creepy clown shit?” He asked warily, and Harley loosed her grip to pat him on the cheek.
“Pinky promise, suga. I’m about to go give Brucie ‘is own private dose of scary clown shit that I’m sure he’ll completely understand that he wants to be in private,” she added more pointedly, giving Bruce a sharp look over her shoulder.
Behind her, Danny shrugged and pulled the rest of his body through the green rip, giving Sam a smack upside the head as his feet touched the floor and snatching the thermos from her.
“Confiscated til you’ll only use it’s power responsibly,” he told her, sticking his tongue out and dropping down into his seat, thermos held preventatively back and over his head.
Which made it all too easy for Jason to reach up and grab it from him, tucking it into the front of his hoodie pocket when Danny whipped around indignantly.
“You’re not responsible either,” Jason pointed out smugly and Danny sputtered but didn’t quite find words to argue.
They were fucking adorable.
If she didn’t have ta go try and beat the sense back inta Brucie’s head she’d have the time of her life just pinching their cheeks and winding them up about what to her studied eye was a pair of oblivious fresh forming crushes.
Young love was just the cutest when it was in that awkward blushy denial phase.
Yeah, Brucie was getting an extra whap for tearing her away from that.
Turning back to the big man, she prodded her bat into the center of his chest.
“So! Whaddaya think, big guy? Wanna give a nice big public apology for ya fuck up or shall we go talk somewhere in private?” She asked firmly, emphasizing those last words into a threat.
Bruce’s attention snapped away from glaring at Danny and Jason to fix on her, clearly analyzing her words. Of all the hopeless little shits…
She was gonna find someone to get him his proper diagnosis. Had to at this point.
Couldn’t be her, she was technically a conflict of interest, but holy fuck the man screamed emotional disregulation with a hefty side of autism spectrum.
At least he’d know what direction he needed help in, as if he wouldn’t promptly ignore any advice that included “talk about ya damn feelings”. Too bad for him.
She gave him another firm poke with the bat and he nodded sharply, gaze snapping from her around to the door.
His shoulders settled just a little, posture relaxing in what she knew was relief as he motioned for her to follow. Still looked tense as hell, but she’d probably only get a dime back for bouncing a nickel off him now.
That was real relaxed for Brucie.
Maybe he was finally self aware enough to accept that he needed some help with all the emotional stuff.
Good. Maybe she’d only do one kneecap.
**
As Harley followed Bruce out of the room, Sam’s phone began buzzing dramatically in her pocket. Abandoning her quest for the thermos, she pulled it out and glanced down.
Grinned wickedly. She’d been expecting this for a while now actually.
“Aw, look, my parents saw our selfies on Twitter,” she cooed sarcastically, Manson Party Voice making a brief return.
Danny scooted just a little away from the still buzzing phone.
“So are you gonna get that?” He asked as Alfred brought him a perfectly reheated plate. “What? Oh, thanks.”
Sam shrugged, hit speakerphone, and set it on the table. They’d posted those pictures pretty much solely for the incoming reaction.
“Hey mom, what’s up?” She said sweetly, still in her public facing voice.
Her mother did not sound nearly as composed.
“SAMANTHA. Where ARE you?! What are you wearing?! Where are your clothes and WHY, in the name of all that’s good, are you anywhere near HARLEY QUINN?! Have you been kidnapped?!”
Sam rolled her eyes hard enough that Tucker faked a fatal injury across the table. She flipped him off as Tim and Duke stifled laughs.
“Yes, mother, I have been kidnapped and just answered my phone completely normally. I’m at the Waynes’,” she added quickly, before her mother could jump to conclusions.
And gave her some new conclusions to jump to instead, but who cared. Still, something seemed to be sticking in her mom’s mind.
“With Harley Quinn?” She asked suspiciously after a moment’s silence.
Which, to be fair, was kind of a good point.
“Apparently she’s a family friend? Like Grandma and Ivy,” Sam added delicately, a vicious satisfaction rising through her.
She’d gotten to say her piece at the gala yesterday and had thought she was done, but. Well. Years of restriction and so on.
She was definitely still having fun winding her parents up.
Her mom’s sharp intake of breath was clearly audible even over the phone, and then the shouting started again.
“Samantha MANSON do not even THINK about going anywhere with that woman! You have responsibilities! School! Your work! We’re coming to pick you up RIGHT NOW, and… where are your CLOTHES?!”
Alfred cleared his throat from behind them, where he’d stayed from delivering Danny’s dinner. Sam half turned and he raised a brow, inclining his head slightly.
She scooted her chair out of the way to let him get closer to the phone, waving a hand in open invitation.
“If I may interject,” Alfred said calmly, not a trace that anything was even slightly amiss, “the young lady’s clothes are in the dryer at present. They will be finished shortly.”
Another long silence. Her mom probably realizing that Sam had her on speaker. And that she would still be on speaker the next time she spoke.
Finally she choked out a terse, “thank you. I do hope she has been behaving herself. We will be there to pick you up in half an hour, Sammy, and we will Have Words.”
Which Sam kinda doubted, given where the hotel was and how long it had taken Danny and Bruce to get back, but time would tell.
At least they weren’t hiring a helicopter.
It sucked to have to leave, but she’d have needed to head out soon anyway. Her flight back to university would be leaving this evening, and at least this way she could hang out with the others until her parents arrived.
No reason not to needle them more though.
“Aw but mom, I’m having such a good time hanging out with Cass,” she sighed, switching from Party to Heartfelt Woe expertly.
Down beyond Jason, Cass stifled a giggle. It clearly sent Sam’s mom into another spiral of conflicting emotions; delight, hope, ecstasy, and ongoing horror at the presence of Harley.
Who, technically, was no longer present in the room, but telling her mom that would only make her feel better, so Sam wasn’t gonna bother.
Honestly, if she wanted to run away and be an ecoterrorist with Pamela Isley, she could just ask Grandma to text her. She didn’t need kidnapping.
Still, apparently the risk of a close contact with Poison Ivy outweighed her mom’s desire to see her cozy up with the Waynes.
It’d have been real sweet if it had been a worry for Sam’s health instead of a worry about what Sam would do to other peoples’ health. The lack of trust stung, truly.
“We’ll be there in half an hour, Sammy. Get your clothes back on and say thank you for having you,” her mom warned, tone sharp and clipped.
And then hung up the phone before anyone could argue, because while she never used to listen to Sam before, she did somehow still know her. Ah well.
Sam sighed, stuffing the phone back into her borrowed pocket.
“Guess my parole has ended. I’ve gotta get back for my next semester anyway, but you have my number?” She asked Steph, looking from her back to Cass.
Both women nodded enthusiastically, Steph sighing and slumping forward into the table.
“Do you really have to go? Harley probably won’t be done with Brucie by then, you’ll miss the best part!”
But in all honesty, Sam wasn’t too upset about that. She’d made her feelings perfectly clear via thermos, and if Jason wasn’t satisfied with Bruce’s real apology she could always come back.
So she shrugged, grinning.
“Guess it’s my turn to get the video recap once it’s all over. You guys’ll film it for me, right?” She asked, looking from Danny to Tucker.
Both of whom gave her a thumbs up.
“We should make a new group chat,” Tucker mused eagerly, already pulling his phone up, “one for all of us.”
“Then we’d know which galas you were coming to!” Steph agreed at once, her own phone magically appearing in hand.
Dick snickered, leaning back in his seat.
“Said like Steph’s ever let Bruce drag her to one against her will,” he teased and Steph flipped him off.
“Hey, if you’d had the good sense not to let him adopt you you wouldn’t have to do them either,” Steph told him primly. Dick rolled his eyes.
“I’m his ward, not adopted,” he argued mostly futilely, and Sam snickered.
“And still have to go apparently. Doesn’t the ward thing end once you’re a legal adult?” She asked innocently.
Dick gave her a deadpan stare.
“Ma’am, if you want to try and wrest an orphan from the hands of Bruce Wayne you be my fucking guest, I gave up years ago.”
Which, fair. Their rifts had been legendary enough to make the circuit. She toasted him with her phone and settled back.
“Point taken. If being a cop didn’t make him give you up nothing will,” she added slyly, and Dick mimed grievous injury, slumping forward onto the table as the others laughed.
Grinning her triumph, Sam turned back to Alfred.
“So if you just show me where the laundry room is I can grab my clothes?” She offered, trying yet again to be helpful.
Being from a rich family didn’t mean having no damn manners, no matter how often it looked like it.
The old man gave her another of his extremely arch expressions, an eyebrow rising as if to question her impertinence. He had to be fucking with her.
“I shall bring your clothes to the downstairs bathroom on this hall when they are done so that you may change, Miss Manson,” he said coolly.
She’d never heard anything like it.
It didn’t sound like he was upset or offended the way people usually did when their voices iced over that sharply. Just… not an ounce of wiggle room.
Not a sliver of a hint that anything he was saying would not happen exactly as he’d decreed it. He sounded more imperious than a king, and she’d seen those.
Sam kinda imagined that’d be what Clockwork would sound like if she ever met the guy.
Duke misinterpreted her decidedly impressed stare with a wry chuckle, apparently misinterpreting her expression.
Fair, since he couldn’t know she was comparing him to the living manifestation of Time.
Well. Ghostly manifestation. Same difference.
“Miss Manson’s probably the best you’ll get out of him,” Duke said almost apologetically, grinning. “It’s gonna be that or Miss Samantha.”
Which admittedly was enough to make her turn to face him, curiosity peaked.
“What do you mean?” She asked, glancing back up at Alfred.
She couldn’t read anything but serenity in his face, but mild amusement practically radiated off him. She’d have to ask Danny what he saw in his aura.
Dick took this one too, sitting back in his seat and grinning at her.
“Alfie’s serious about the whole “proper titles and full names” thing. I’ve been trying for almost twenty years to make him call me “Dick”, and I think he’d be slower to give that up than Bruce’d be to unadopt me,” he explained cheerfully, arm tossed over the back of his chair.
Alfred treated him to a slowly raised eyebrow too.
“As you say, Master Richard,” he agreed placidly and Sam pressed her lips together on a smile.
She didn’t have to turn around to know exactly what face Danny would be making. The last thing he needed was another scary old man full naming him.
And right on cue…
“Uh… can I specifically request Mister Fenton then?” Danny asked and sure enough when she turned, yup, he even had his hand in the air like a child.
Alfred treated him to that calm stare as well.
“May I ask why, Mister Daniel?” He asked, clearly prodding despite every line of both face and posture oozing nothing but polite respect.
Danny fully flinched, which was interesting. He barely reacted whenever Vlad said his name.
Sam adjusted her opinion of Alfred along a couple “scarier than Vlad” levels.
“I have name-related trauma from another billionaire who refuses to call me anything but that,” Danny admitted sheepishly, rubbing at the back of his neck. “It’s a really not-fun association.”
“Vlad again?” Tim asked from across the table, sounding sympathetic.
Danny pulled a face at him, sort of grimacing more than a smile.
“Oh yeah. And let’s just say he also does it in super bad situations, so I’d be happier to just never hear it again.”
Sam peaked back over her shoulder at Alfred, wondering what he’d do with this news.
If Danny was gonna be a fixture in Jason’s life (and let’s be honest, he’d be a fixture in Jason’s bedroom by the end of the month), and Jason was a fixture in Alfred’s… they’d see more of each other.
Everyone knew Bruce had been basically raised by Alfred. If he was half as emotionally constipated…
But there was an actual human expression on the old man’s face now, and it looked a damn sight like shame. He cleared his throat, drawing their attention back to him.
“My apologies, Mister Fenton. Would you perhaps prefer Mister Danny?” He asked, which would have seemed completely innocuous on its own.
Dick slammed both fists into the table, making half the table burst into giggles.
“Fucking SERIOUSLY?! Is it just me! This is bullshit Alfie!” He declared dramatically.
Tim looked equally gobsmacked, jaw on the proverbial floor as he stared at Alfred, and even Steph looked put out and impressed.
Danny, deeply confused but relieved, stuck his tongue out at Dick.
“Hey, if you want another overly possessive and creepy billionaire determined to control your life you’re welcome to take him off my hands,” he declared smugly, and Sam snorted a laugh.
There was a decided devilry in young Damian’s face too, which vanished almost immediately after it appeared as the youngest spoke up.
“Honestly, Richard, you must admit that Danny’s situation is decidedly more grave than your own,” he said simply, a strong undercurrent of smugness under the words.
Tim threw both hands into the air so hard he almost tipped his chair over.
“Him too?! Come the fuck ON!” He proclaimed to the world at large as Duke snorted half a glass of water out of his nose in a choked laugh.
Tim gave him a hearty slap on the back that was probably supposed to help, the younger boy still wheezing and gasping for air, but otherwise didn’t acknowledge him.
There was clearly something of an inside joke going on, and it wasn’t exactly a complicated one.
Danny had already settled back in his seat, perfectly happy with the consternation he’d caused, and Sam joined him.
Watching the dramatics of the extended Wayne clan was even better at home than it had been at the gala. For a show this good, she’d have bought tickets.
**
As she closed the office door behind her, Harley took a moment to give Bruce another, slower once over.
It had been a while since she saw him last, and between what Selina had told her and what the kids told her, she wanted a read on his headspace.
He looked… well, like he had a stick up his ass a mile high, but that was pretty much default for him when he wasn’t being Brucie. Never learned how to take a breath, that guy.
But from the way he moved straight to his desk, not even pausing to see if she shut the door before dropping into his seat, she’d put money on “tired”.
Not just regular nightlife tired either, if he showed it this easily. Freshly shaved, dressed immaculately, face done up with minimal but flattering makeup.
He’d put himself together pretty today, but something was cracking underneath.
Once she was satisfied she’d gotten the big picture, she sauntered after him and hopped up to sit on his desk, foot pressed firmly to the middle of his chest to go for the details.
“So, Brucie, do ya know why I’m here?” She asked expectantly. It’d tell her a lot about where they were starting from; it was hard to fool the big bat, and none of ‘em had been trying.
Bruce raised an eyebrow at her foot, but wisely didn’t move to touch it. Clever boy. He might win a physical fight if they got serious, but he also knew she was damn good at what she did.
If they threw down, she wouldn’t be helping him untwist that mess in his head. And he wouldn’t be walking away unscathed either.
No good with some fresh heroes who weren’t in on the Secret around. She could assume he’d made the calculations, but none of them showed. And wouldn’t it be nice if he hadn’t needed to?
Instead he sighed, leaning further back in his chair and rubbing both hands down his face.
Harley adjusted her estimate from “tired” to “fucking exhausted”. Not a good sign.
“I hope it has something to do with Selina texting you last night about the gala,” was all he said though, cryptic fuck.
Harley pushed with her toes just enough to make the chair roll back.
“Specifically, Brucie. If you can tell me what ya did wrong I’ll make it easier on you,” she teased, waving her bat playfully.
Like they didn’t both know the real damage would be with her words. Bruce preferred the bat though. In all ways, which, ha! She could still rock a killer joke.
He gave her one of his grouchy bat glares too, then slumped. Practically pre-broken. Something had to be up.
“I gave a speech. I… apologized to Jason for not being there when he…” he trailed off and Harley nodded, willing to accept that. Hard topics, and not one they’d discuss today.
Not that she wasn’t waiting with baited breath for Bruce to FINALLY decide he wanted to unload some o’ that trauma. But hey, baby steps.
He looked back up a second later, the mask gone as he met her eyes. He looked agonized.
For Bruce, anyway. Perfectly normal to anyone who didn’t really know how he ticked. But those lines around his eyes, the tension in his jaw?
Harley knew. From watching him when he’d thought he’d failed long ago, and from comforting him when one of the kids got hurt more recently.
“He looked like he’d seen a ghost, Harley. I’ve never seen him so shaken.”
Which Harley did have to bite back an entirely inappropriate laugh at. Jason looked preeeeetty happy to be canoodling with an actual ghost in the dining room right now.
She kept it on lock though. Totally professional.
Honestly, she was a little impressed Bruce had noticed. Jason was infamously his blind spot.
Humming softly she nodded slowly, fingers drumming along the shaft of the bat as she regarded him.
“And why do you think he did that, Bruce?” She prodded gently.
She was gonna have a check in with Jason later, not least for all the deets on his adorable new “friend”. Somewhere private, where the others couldn’t see.
But from what she’d seen tonight… Jason looked good. More relaxed, at ease with himself in a way that really tugged at her heart.
She hadn’t seen a lot of Jason since his return; she hadn’t stayed in Gotham long after breaking free of the Joker. But she’d come back when Selina called, and heard Waylon’s stories.
Of course he hadn’t come back as the happy, cheeky kid full of sunshine and magic. Even if he’d survived the warehouse he’d have changed.
The kid who’d cried at the thought of letting Bruce down so hard she’d foiled Joker’s plans herself so it wouldn’t happen… had been let down even more.
Even from a distance she’d read it in every inch of him; festering rage, pain, moving more like the big Bat than ever. Like his body was just a weapon he was barely connected to.
Like nothing else mattered but his mission, and he’d run on broken legs without even noticing. Like he didn’t think there was anything about him worth protecting.
(It may have factored into one of her own visits back to Arkham, even if Mister J had left her alone.)
The poor guy had been so full of anger ever since he came back, and for all that she’d been Joker’s when he died he’d never blamed her.
If anyone else on Earth knew what it was like to have your life torn to the ground by that bastard, to have nothing left even after you crawled away, it was Jason.
Harley wouldn’t have blamed him for hating her just as much as the clown himself, but he hadn’t. Not even full dark side. Not even that first time, Tim’s blood still on his suit.
He’d tensed to fight, admitted he’d heard about the big split, and believed her when she swore it was true. Even accepted her number, though he hadn’t called for almost a year.
They weren’t close, not like she was with the baby bats these days, but Harley worried about him.
There was something broken in Jason that still hadn’t healed, that he kept gashing himself on its sharp edges. Something that might finally be scabbing over.
So yeah, this was 1000% not the fucking time for Bruce to be all up in his bullshit.
At least he seemed to know that too, shaking his head and slumping forward against her foot so he could rest his head in his hands.
“I… I don’t know. I thought I could show him how sincere I was. Have witnesses who’d hold me to it. Not force him to be alone with me when it’s clearly not what he wants,” he admitted bitterly, shoulders slumping.
Harley let out another low hum, tracking every inch of his posture with alert eyes.
Yeah, that was true. Fucking stupid, especially from a guy as sharp as Brucie, but true. And fully consistent with his character.
Then she sighed, pushing him back upright, foot rising up almost to his collar to make him look at her.
“Did ya think about asking Jason what he wanted?” She asked dryly, fully aware of what the answer would be.
Watched Bruce’s face pinch in annoyance. Probably at himself, which would be good. Sometimes the answer literally was that easy.
He still shook his head, even if he didn’t quite meet her eyes.
“I thought…” he sighed again, running a hand through his hair, but didn’t try and hunch. “I didn’t think. I assumed he would see it the way I did.”
Which he’d clearly already noticed Jason hadn’t. Honestly, Harley was almost proud of the man. He wasn’t usually this emotionally aware.
No wonder he was exhausted. Lotta introspection, using all those brain muscles he abjectly refused to hone.
Harley nodded and crossed one leg over the other, switching out which foot kept Bruce pinned to his chair.
“It’s one helluva lot ta throw at someone in front of an audience, Brucie,” she agreed plainly, and watched with interest as that moment if irritation sharpened.
Almost pulled him back to bat face.
“You sound like Danny,” he grumbled, not actually arguing. Might have tried to cross his arms if her foot wasn’t in the way.
Harley wasn’t having any of it. She knew she’d liked the kid.
“Good, he’s got two braincells ta rub together. What’s more important: that people see you say you’re sorry, or how Jason feels?” She asked sharply, her patient tone evaporating.
To his credit, Bruce didn’t hesitate.
“Jason.” This, there was no question of. Good.
“And who knows best how Jason feels?” She pushed on, eyes narrowing when he hesitated.
“Don’t make me use the bat, Brucie,” she warned him, and Bruce sighed again, shaking his head.
“I know what you want me to say, Harley. But Jason… his emotions are unpredictable. Out of control. I doubt even he knows what they are half the time.”
Which, frankly, they weren’t going to get into at the moment, if ever. Jason’s emotional state was Jason’s business.
Harley fixed Bruce with an unimpressed stare, raising an eyebrow.
“Good thing I didn’t ask anyone to control it, huh? But who. Knows. How Jason feels.” It was barely a question anymore, the tapping of her bat against the desk more an empty threat.
She wasn’t against percussive maintenance, especially where Brucie was concerned; he responded better to violence than words half the time.
Kinda like he needed the stubbornness actually knocked out of him before he could listen. It was why she wouldn’t recommend him to any ol’ civilian friends still in the biz.
Not that they’d have appreciated her recommendation.
He stared her down for a moment, defiant even with the bat to hand. Harley let the other brow rise slowly and crossed her arms, leaning forward to lean on her knee.
Bruce could outstare a cat, but he couldn’t impress or intimidate her and he knew it.
He said nothing, still staring her down, and she could see where his brain had turned off and the stubbornness kicked in.
Fine. She’d played this game before, and she knew what he expected to come next.
Sometimes she even let him have it, a little rough and tumble so he could wrestle himself out of his head by wrestling her. But today, there were way more interesting things for her to do with her time.
Nothing short circuited a pattern of habit like the wrong response. Or a response that pulled up an older pattern.
Still staring him dead in the eye, she stuck her finger in her mouth, licked it wet, then leaned forward to shove it in his ear.
Bruce jerked back, hands almost rising defensively even as he made a disgusted face.
“Harley! Stop!” He protested, already losing a little of that stoic wall, and Harley grinned. It’d worked since they were Jason’s age in college and probably always would.
In his bat-suit, Bruce could take any torture, any indignity and never break. Without that cowl though, he was the same dweeb who’d joined the cheerleading squad with her because Harvey pouted.
It was really a very good thing she’d been on her way out of the rogue business before she cracked his identity, but since he’d always known hers he probably had plans against her.
He didn’t use them though, and she appreciated that, even as she licked her other finger fast and stuck it in his other ear.
“Say it, Brucie, or I’ll lick every pen in this office,” she threatened, watched a smile almost crack. And watched him sag, one of her wrists in each hand, his expression sobering.
Not closing off again though. Now his exhaustion was plain to see, along with the lingering sorrow and regret.
Looked like that little tussle would be enough for today. Probably.
“Jason knows what he’s feeling best. I am sorry, Harley. I never meant to hurt him,” he confessed almost in a whisper, and Harley let her own dramatics subside too.
It wasn’t what he needed anymore.
Hooking her foot in under the arm of the chair, she pulled him back in towards her.
“I know, kid. An’ lucky for you, Jason’s got a lotta people in his corner, and he’s a resilient boy. He’s gonna be alright.” His relationship with Bruce could only get so much worse, honestly.
No matter how the two disasters kept rubbing each other wrong, there was still love there. That was what had hurt Jason so much in the first place.
If he hadn’t loved Bruce, he wouldn’t care what the man thought of him. If he hadn’t thought Bruce loved him once, he wouldn’t care that the Joker lived.
Maybe one day she’d knock their heads together and make them talk it out.
Today, Bruce gave her a helpless look.
“I don’t even know how I hurt him, Harley. I should have asked, I know I put him on the spot, but I never thought… how can I stop if I don’t know what I’m doing wrong?”
Harley sighed softly, straightening back up and tugging her hands back easily, propping them on the desk behind her.
It was a tough one, not because the answer was hard, but because it’d be hard for Bruce. But he might finally be ready to hear it, if he’d done this much of the work without her.
“You know what I’m gonna tell you,” she prodded gently and didn’t push back when he pulled the chair in enough to brace his elbows on the desk on either side of her hips and bury his face in his hands.
Muffled the hell outta his voice, but she could still make out the words.
“Talk to him.” Which, yeah, she had a chuckle at the irony, petting mussed black hair.
“Yeah, yeah, the Bat’s one weakness, clear communication. But you don’t know Jason as well as ya think ya do, Brucie. He’s not the kid you brought home.”
He pushed up at that, frown on his face and mouth open to argue, and she placed a finger across it to shush him.
“I know ya think you know that. But he’s really, really not. And thinking ya still know him the same way is how you keep hurting each other.” She gentled her voice, kept it soft, but he still slumped like she’d punched him.
She went back to petting his hair. He preferred punching.
“Stop trying to surprise him. Ask what he wants. And if you can’t tell him how you feel…” she paused for a moment, let Bruce huff out the beginnings of a grumble, and chuckled softly.
No surprise there.
“Then try writing it down. Write him a letter, and keep it to yourself until you know what you want to say. As many as it takes, and toss ‘em right in the fire. And if ya still can’t say it aloud, hide one in yer underwear drawer or somewhere personal.”
That prompted him to look up again and Harley cocked a brow, grinning.
“What better way ta make one of your nosey lot read it?” She asked, grin settling to a smirk when Bruce’s lower lip slid out in a pout.
Not that fake pretty boy play one he did for cameras, the real Bruce Wayne Does Not Like You’re Right.
Catching it between forefinger and thumb she gave it a gentle tug.
“Seriously though. Try it. It’s easier than tryin’ ta improvise. And always, especially double important if yer gonna be in public, talk ta Jason first. No more surprises, or how’s ‘e gonna trust you?”
He knocked her hand away, but his eyes did that far off thing they always did when he was calculating, so she assumed he was taking it on board.
Finally he nodded, glanced at the clock, and frowned. Rigid mask falling back into place, her old classmate disappearing again.
“I’m afraid I have a meeting, Harley. Cape business. Was that all?” He did actually sound kinda sorry, so Harley forgave him for switching himself off before they finished.
“Fine. But I’m stickin’ around fer a bit, so we’ll talk about the apology thing later,” she warned, giving his chest another sharp poke and then trying to neaten the mess she’d made of his hair with her fingers.
Gave it up as a bad job.
“An’ put the cowl on, ya look like a drowned bat.”
He raised a pointed eyebrow at her, the gesture saying more clearly than words whose fault that was, and let her push him back far enough to stand.
“Thanks, Harley. I probably won’t be back tonight,” he told her, voice already lowering into that bat growl Selina went crazy for.
Hopping off the desk, Harley waved him away and bent to scoop her bat off the floor.
“Yeah, yeah. I gotta check on Waylon tomorrow anyway, but I’ll drop by when I have a minute.” She paused at the door and grinned over her shoulder at him. “The little one didn’t even try an’ stab me today.”
Bruce gave her a tight smile back, already at the clock. Ready for his Grand Descent. Dramatic bitch.
“High praise, from Damian,” he acknowledged, and Harley laughed, heading back out into the manor.
Maybe she’d join the kids for dessert.
**
Bruce had to admit he felt lighter as the door closed behind Harley.
She hadn’t told him anything he didn’t know, not really, but just. Knowing she was here. That she knew why Jason was upset, and would help him fix it.
He was always grateful that she’d been one of the rogues who turned… well, not exactly straight, he kept up with her exploits in Coney Island, but good.
She cared about people, and protected what she considered hers fiercely. Luckily for him, that included his brood.
And. Maybe. Just maybe.
Danny might have had a point.
Perhaps Harley could help him work out why it was easier to tell Jason he was sorry to a room full of people than it was at his son’s hospital bed after a bad patrol.
He changed in the elevator on the way to the cave, the spare suit from his office easy and familiar to put on.
A good thing too, since just as he arrived and settled in front of the Batcomputer to pull up anything he thought he might need (and telling himself it definitely wasn’t evidence against a colleague), the zeta tube activated.
::B069 - John Constantine::
Tonight was finally going to be his night.
**
A hundred feet up in the dining room, Danny Fenton stiffened abruptly mid conversation, senses prickling as someone new crossed his aura.
Well. Someone different. There was no mistaking that potent, crackling cloud of mixed wards and magic. It had been a while since they’d been to Amity Park, but it certainly wasn’t someone new.
A slow, thoughtful smile spread across his lips and he settled back in his chair, ignoring the surprised looks from his companions as he considered this development.
It certainly answered his earlier question.
A hand rose slowly to cup his chin, fingers drumming along his jawline as a slow chuckle slipped free.
Tonight might just be more interesting than the gala after all.
“So that’s John Constantine… huh.”
———————
Next:
Tag List: @welcometosasakiworld @kyrianclawraith @someonebored0100 @stealingyourbones @starkcravingmad @frostedthroughghost @akikkobara @rainbowbunny0159 @littlefeather345 @violet-catsarelife @serasvictoria02 @wolfjackle @blacksea21090 @secretdestinywerewolf @anime-hipster-the-amazing @undead-essence @skitscratched @blackroserelina @snoodly-boop @trickerdi @mayoota-blog @xysidhe @idkmrpianoman @little-apricot-the-writer @chaoticmistake @the-legal-shipper @bun-fish @aroranorth-west @demon-cat-goes-woof @eonic @onyxlightdragon @larks-and-katydids @peachesandcreamfemboy @jesus-camp-the-sequel @may-rbi @mothman-the-mothman87 @viyatrix @stargirl1331 @idfk-man10 @thedepressedrobin @skulld3mort-1fan @rootsmudge @ravenshadow17 @cankoking @phantom-dc @mentalcarebear @magic-pincushion @somuchyikes
#dp x dc#danny fenton dead and loving it#dead on main#danny x jason#jason x danny#yeah this might as well happen#chapter 11#answers time#somehow bruce is temporarily still in the dark#bruce heavy chapter#getting into the angst a wee bit for brucie#sucks to suck buddyboy
264 notes
·
View notes
Text
Fic Writers Showcase Game
@there-must-be-a-lock tagged me!
Rules: Go to your published works on AO3 and list the first fic you ever published there, the last fic you published, any fic that you wrote for a fandom/ship only once, your favorite fic you wrote in the fandom/ship that has the most works, the fic you wish more people read, the fic you agonized over the most, the fic that sprang fully formed from your mind without any effort, and a work you are proud of—for whatever reason.
~~
First fic published on Ao3: That would be The Other Side of the Mirror, an Earth-3 continuity mess with a JayDick main pair, featuring Roy as a 3rd PoV. First chapter was posted in September, 2014, currently 200k, 20 chapters , and as of yet unfinished, though I think as it stands it ends on a decently hopeful note. I do still recall the main plot points of where it goes, and would like to finish it someday.
Last fic published: I posted the first chapter of Five Finger Discount just yesterday, which is the 5th piece in my Worth Counting series, an alpha!Slade/alpha!Jason series exploring a variety of kinks but with a focus on non-formal dom/sub vibes, competence/strength kink, and mostly-play fighting. (The last finished story was Shifting Into Fourth which is the 4th piece of that same series, so, I'm a little bit on a theme here.)
Fandom/ship I only wrote once: I uh. I wrote Hamilton/Jefferson/Madison room-where-it-happens porn. For the Hamilton musical. It's called Do Whatever It Takes and I think it is still the thing that makes me feel the most sinfully dirty of all the things I've ever written. So there's that.
I also have Let's Be Clear, which is my only fic set anywhere in the MCU, and is a Daredevil oneshot of an asexual!Wesley being invited to join a Fisk/Vanessa relationship, as I vibed real hard with Wesley as a character and never really got over his unfortunate demise.
(Honorable mention to my four stories that are technically fandoms of their own, but all fall under the 'DCU' umbrella, being for the Arkham games, two shows in the CW Arrowverse, and the Teen Titans cartoon.)
Favorite fic in most popular fandom/ship: This is a little hard to quantify. Technically 'DCU (Comics)' comes in at 93k in stories, which would make JayDick the most popular pairing, which makes my favorite story Captain's Privileges. It's a Star Trek mirror!verse fusion with Captain!Dick and Engineer!Jason and so many unhealthy relationships everywhere, and I love it.
However! 'DCU (Comics)' is a very broad umbrella and it's not really fair to say it's my biggest fandom, since the slice I belong to is much smaller. Which means the more accurate winner is Voltron, at 85k stories. I technically have a Klance story but given that it is a big poly clusterfuck dark!fic I really have to actually give this to the second most popular pairing by stat, Sheith. Out of those, I think my favorite is I'm Not That Man, which was an early false-memories/brainwashed!Shiro fic set just before the wormhole split them all up.
Fic I wish more people read: An Extra Shot, hands down. Come read my gen, Wilson-family-focused exploration of what happens if Adeline dies during the attack on Joey! Come read Slade Wilson being forced into confronting the fact that he is a terrible dad and also now a widowed dad of three kids! Come read Billy trying his best to bludgeon all the terrible communicators of this family into actually working things out! READ THIS. THERE'S A SEQUEL IN PROGRESS. IT'S GOOD I SWEAR.
Fic that was hardest to write: I think the award for this has to go to Me, Not Her, a CaptainPan/CaptainSwan piece which I was apparently so frustrated with at some point that I straight up deleted the file. Four years later (no I am not kidding) I had the vague memory of it. Some sketchy thing I could maybe expand, now that I was having thoughts about OUaT again. I pull it out of the (then eternal) trash of Google Drive. It is five thousand words long and needs no more than pretty basic editing and a little padding at the end to round it off. I don't know what the hell was happening with me when I deleted it, but wow, lesson learned.
Fic that popped out fully-formed: I don't recall any that were explicitly like this, but I also don't tend to write like, neat little packaged stories all that often. If I'm writing oneshots they're usually for events. So my best answer to this is probably Fucking Androids? It's a Reed900 relationship origin story that blazed its way out of me during NaNoWriMo one year, named entirely for the sex pun and then in the end absolutely refusing to have any sex in it, so it won that fight. I remember at least most of it coming really, really easy.
Fic I'm proud of: Pulling out a weird little one, here. I'm going to say Take a Ride. It's a JayDick, Gotham City Garage story that I wrote for Firefright's birthday one year, and on reread I actually still really, really like it? It's just a neat apocalyptic-desert vibe relationship building thing, set in the criminally under-explored and rushed GCG world, and I really like how I put Dick together in this one. I recommend it.
~~
Not tagging anyone specific, but if anyone would like to do this as well, feel free!
13 notes
·
View notes
Note
What are your thoughts on the whole Tim Drake story so far?
I'm mixed honestly.
On the one hand, I'm fine with Tim being bi, nothing wrong with that and it can cover a lot of ground if you have the right writer to work with it. However, I feel like, on the other hand, the choice of writer right now for him in regard to YJ and for his Solo series might not be the best.
My issue mostly stems from the same problem I have with the break up of Peter and MJ. Steph and Tim have been connected so long that it's very hard to see him dating others. This holds true for when the two of them broke up before and he ended up engaged to another woman. While I'm okay with them splitting, same with Dick and Babs, I personally am not liking the way it's being handled due to how OOC Steph is. She's kind of jealous, and has shown that in the past with the situation where Tim was with another girl. So why she's excited and shit is beyond me.
I need to see more of what she's going to do to figure out where this is going. Tim has such a long history and connection to so many characters that it feels like DC made a huge goof when they didn't transition the YJ gen into more solid roles before bringing in Damian and co. Don't get me wrong I love my young teams, it's just that it feels like a lot of the issue with Tim's story needs to be expanded.
I'm happy so far with him in Batman and Detective, and the focus there on building back his past to define him more against Jason and Dick. Looks like they're giving Damian Magic to make him different as well, so I'm all for that. I just want Tim to be treated as fairly as Dick is and how Jason is being given a fair shake now.
Part of the issue too is that there were also WAY better male characters to hook Tim up with, and ones that made WAY more sense.
Danny Temple, for example, aka Kid Kobra, was his room mate and Tim went to hell and back to rescue him. There was more chemistry between them than him and Bernard, and Danny had a way more interesting back story that could have played more into Tim learning about himself.
There was also Harper's younger brother, who said he had a crush on Tim. I mean, right there. You can bring in Blue Jay more and Cullen could play a larger role than he is right now. Which is just dating a member of the Royal Flush Gang apparently? Maybe? I'm not sure what they're doing with him.
I would say even Duke, but I don't know if DC would let that happen. So then you look outside of the Batfamily and you have one hell of a list if the Editors will allow the use of them.
Airwave -Aka Hal Jordan Jr. Hal 'Green Lantern' Jordan's nephew who basically admitted to liking guys to his uncle. And Hal told him to go get help learning to be a hero from, of all people, Batman.
Hartley Rathway -Aka the Pied Piper. I'm not sure how old he is in earth Prime, but assuming early 20s, it could be a fun look at how Tim could deal with someone like that, if they let the cross over happen.
Francisco Gracia -Son of Stefano Gracia. He's a classmate of Steph and has ties to Roulette.
Hero Cruz -one of the Dial H for hero characters. He knows Conner and the titans.
Joel Weinberg -aka Huston, a young hero who was trying to keep his family together after his parents died.
Kid Apollo -Hey look it's from Gen 13 and could be a fun ride if someone wanted to take it.
Miguel Montez -current owner of the dial H for Hero device. Also friends with the Titans.
Miguel Barragan -aka Bunker. Of all the characters to not use for this, why not use Bunker! He and Tim already have a friendship, he's not doing anything recently outside of the Teen Titans thing, and if anyone can help Tim navigate all of this it would be Miguel because he's been through a lot.
Raymond Terrill -aka The Ray. Ray worked with Tim when he was in YJ so I would say old friends could rekindle something.
Rich Foley -You want to bring the Dakotaverse more into DC, you have Tim date Virgil's best friend.
Terrence Berg -Bring back Terry from Green Lantern. He's the same age as Tim, and is blonde too. He's already an established character and again would connect the bats and the Lanterns.
There are so many characters out there. I mean, you really want to throw people for a loop, have him date Jon.
Like I said I feel mixed. I'm happy that Tim's moving forward with stories and that his character is being explored more. But I just wish that some of it would be with a writer that I feel more confident about, and with a partner that was more in line with what we know about Tim as a character.
Again no hate for Bernard, I just don't find him interesting.
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
Gilded Family
Rating: Teen and Up, Gen
Ch 4/?: Explanations
Ch 1, Ch 2, Ch 3
In which none of the previous golden guards or wittebro died, actually, they're all fine and living happily together as one big dysfunctional family
Ao3
What is behind this door?
Hunter tapped his foot, examining the door. He’d been able to pinpoint which door led to the mysterious section of house, but now he had to wonder if the room was trapped. He didn’t see any of those glyphs on the door, but who knew what was on the other side.
What are you hiding, Wittebane?
Hunter reached for the doorknob.
“Hey, Hunter!”
Hunter jumped, yanking his hand back from the door as if he’d been burned. He whirled around to face the original. “What are you doing here?!” he demanded.
A soft chuckle. “I was looking for you, actually.”
Suspicion flared in Hunter’s mind. Convenient, that he wanted to check in just as Hunter had been about to open the mysterious door. “Why?”
He rubbed the back of his head, sheepish. “I haven’t really been able to check in on you much. I’ve been so focused on keeping an eye on the current golden guard that I haven’t really paid any attention to you. I’m sorry. How are you settling in?”
“Fairly well, thank you. Mrs. Wittebane and Jason have been looking after me.”
A faint smile crossed the original’s face. “Oh, good. He hasn’t been… too much?”
“Too much?”
“He gets excited. Some of his brothers get overwhelmed. I thought he’d be a good match for you, though. And maybe a little bit the other way around.”
“Because I’ve mentored before?”
“Yes.”
Hunter didn’t know how to feel about that. Did you send Jason so that I’d forget about Darius? As a replacement? He eyed the original. He’s smart enough to stay out of uncle’s reach, uncle doesn’t even know he or any of us are alive. Clever and gutsy enough to rescue all of us. It was easy to forget all that with how goofy and innocuous he seemed most of the time, but this human was a match for Belos brainwise, and apparently had a better understanding of people than Hunter had originally given him credit for.
A little too much like Uncle.
The original grinned at him. “Uh-oh, are we reassessing my threat level?”
“I—uh—” Hunter sputtered, mind whirling. Then there was that tendency to just say whatever popped into his head, instead of filing away spotted information for secret use. Why would he say that?! Just to knock Hunter off his guard, to prove that Hunter couldn’t hide anything from him?!
“Hey—” the original reached out, as if to take his arm, then faltered. “—Uh, sorry—look. Deep breath. Focus on the moment. Sorry, didn’t mean to set off the overthinking. You’re definitely not the first child soldier I’ve taken in, Hunter. You’re all unique, and have your own personalities, but… a lot of you share habits.” His nose wrinkled. “If I tried to list every time I’ve gotten that exact appraising look as you guys decided I was more dangerous than I look, we’d be here all day. What’s on your mind?”
Hunter took a deep breath. Follow his lead. He’s candid with you, reciprocate. This isn’t the coven, there are different rules and expectations here. “You wanted Jason to replace Darius?”
Wittebane’s face crumpled. “Oh. Well, I—no, that’s not… not how I intended that.” He gave Hunter a small, sad smile. “I think I know better than anyone that loved ones can’t be replaced, no matter how hard you try. There’s always going to be that little gap they left behind. I just thought… it might be more familiar to you, I suppose? I don’t know what your kid was like, but I just thought it would be better for you than a bunch more adults. Something to focus on so you didn’t lose yourself.”
Hunter shook his head with a small smile. “Darius wasn’t much like Jason. He was… he liked to take the easy way out, to find the quickest way to do what was required of him. He was bright, very clever, very good at what he did, and sometimes that made him a bit of a slacker. He like to have fun, to do the things he wanted, you know? But when he saw something he wanted, he buckled down and he got it. I liked that about him, if he cared about something, he defended it passionately, no matter how silly someone else might think it was, like his clothes. Or his friends.”
“Yeah?”
Hunter shook his head again. This felt… easy to talk about. Comfortable. “The only major disagreement we ever had, over his friends. Alador and Odalia. I…” suddenly, the meaning behind everything that had happened swept up to him in a rush, and he blinked. “Oh.”
“Oh?”
“Oh, I—” Hunter squeezed his eyes shut, pinching the bridge of his nose. “That was a. That was a Belos thing, I…” he looked up at Wittebane. “I tried to separate them,” he said in a low voice, “I thought they would be bad for his chances of success if he was attached, and… it was a bit of a sore point between us, I dropped it when I realized how much he cared about them, but… titan, I wish I could apologize, that was… that was just Belos talking, wasn’t it?”
The original took in a deep breath. “I would say it’s… a product of your upbringing. Yes.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It’s… easy… to blame my brother for every wrongdoing. And, in fact, he is the reasoning behind most things the people in this house did that they regret. Phillip tricked, manipulated, and forced us into a lot of the bad things that we did, and that's on him. But there are some things that… we did on our own. And that's where… you have to acknowledge and take responsibility for your own actions. No one told Melgear, Venari, Horus, and Hamlet to torture that scout, did they?”
“No.”
“No. I understand where they come from, of course, but… that was their action, and it was wrong. Yes, these things happen with his upbringing to blame, but I don’t think my brother told you to try and break Darius from his friends, did he?”
Hunter heaved a sigh. “No,” he admitted, “I… it really was me, huh? I mean, I WAS spouting off what I’d been taught, how I joined the coven, but… ugh.”
The original shrugged. “You’re sorry for it. That’s what matters, isn’t it?”
“Not if I can’t ever tell him.”
A head shake. “What if he never forgave you?”
“What?”
“What if he never forgave you?” Wittebane repeated, “What if you could apologize to him, and he said ‘okay. I don’t forgive you?’ Would you keep feeling bad about it, if you did everything you could to make up for it, and he didn’t forgive you?”
“I—” Hunter stuttered, “I ca—I don’t—”
Wittebane shrugged. “No one is obligated to forgive you. It’s more important that you’re truly sorry for you past actions and try to be a better person than it is to be forgiven. If you define yourself by someone else’s attitude towards you, well… that’s how we ended up here, huh? Defining ourselves by Phillip’s wants and desires and feelings towards us? Not that that’s your fault, but… it is something that everyone here struggled or still struggles with. What my brother did will affect all of us through life, but it doesn’t have to be the only thing about us. You can’t erase the past, and you shouldn’t forget it, but you can try to make something new out of it.”
“The others… they chose their own name to find their own definition of themselves,” Hunter said slowly. Jason had said something along those lines, of course, but it just now sank in.
“Sure. It’s not a necessary step, and even when they DO choose their own name, it doesn’t flip some magical switch. But yes, that’s why they change it.” He sucked in a deep breath, dusting off his hands. “Whoof. Bit of a heavy conversation, huh?”
Hunter felt a tiny smile approach his face. “A bit.”
“How about some tea? Or—”
“That’s alright. Thank you, though. You should… probably check in on the current golden guard again?”
“Yeah, I suppose I should. Let me know if you need anything?”
“Yessir.”
Wittebane gave the mysterious door a long look, then shrugged, and moved back towards his oracle room. Hunter examined the door again.
What could be so bad that someone so open and honest would hide it?
He heard a scuffle behind him, and he whirled around to see a Grimwalker with huge glasses, a bun, and a scar over his right eye sneaking out of a different room, dashing down the hallway.
“What is he…”
Hunter was about to call after the original, but then stopped. If this Grimwalker was hiding from Wittebane, then maybe they knew some information that Wittebane wasn’t willing to share.
What’s going on around here?
Hunter opened the door the Grimwalker had snuck out of, then almost immediately started backing away.
There was a stone statue of a golden guard in there. Hunter could recognize the signs on the stone—a petrification.
Did the other Grimwalker…?
Did the original?!
How?!
Broken stone flowers and living flowers in varying states of decay littered the floor around the statue told the story that this wasn’t a rescue—someone had done this to him while he was here.
I have to get out of here.
It’s not safe—do Jason and Mole know?! Or are they next?
He backed right into another person, and he whirled around to see the bespectacled Grimwalker again.
“See something you didn’t like?” the Grimwalker asked.
Knock him out, or play it cool? Would that raise an alarm? Is he rogue, like Horus and the others, or is this part of Wittebane’s plan?
“I—you—”
Too late to play it cool.
“Sam, you’re sounding threatening again,” a voice said cheerfully at his right shoulder.
“You could ask ‘are you okay? You look kinda freaked out’ like a normal person, you know,” another voice agreed at his left.
Hunter’s head whipped back and forth to see two more grimwalkers. Pinned.
“I am not,” the glasses grimwalker—Sam—protested, his voice getting higher pitched.
The grimwalker on the right—who didn’t have any arms, and COULDN’T grab Hunter, even if he’d wanted to, Hunter realized—grinned, lowering his voice to a sinister tone. “See something you didn’t like?” he whispered creepily.
“Locke! I do not sound like that!”
“I thought it was an excellent impression,” the Grimwalker on the left piped up. This one had a scar across their forehead.
“Thank you, Lake.”
“Plus, your lab is kinda creepy when you’re not in it scurrying around like your head’s on fire.” Lake nudged Hunter. “That’s what freaked you out, right?”
Sam pushed his glasses up. “Well, fine, then, I will explain the lab.” He grabbed Hunter’s arm, tugging him back into the room and turning on the lights before Hunter could quite react. He let Hunter go, and gestured with a lot of waving at the stone statue. “Behold! Petrified Hunter, or Petro for short!”
“Can you please just call him Peter?” Lake chuckled.
“I’m begging you,” Locke agreed.
“No. Anyway, this is… our biggest problem, at the moment.” Sam walked around the statue, shaking his head. “Belos petrified him, and I’m… well, I’m trying to figure out how to undo it.”
Hunter shook his head, his muscles starting to relax. So there really wasn’t anything sinister going on. Not here, at least. “Petrifications are permanent.”
“Sure, that’s what you think, but! Hey, we should all be dead, but we’re not, right? Anything’s possible.” Sam picked up one of the stone flowers. “I discovered the petrification glyph mostly on accident, but—”
“Wait, it’s a glyph?!”
“Yes, I—hang on a moment, how much do you know about the glyphs?”
Hunter shook his head. “Not a lot. Horus showed me a few.”
Lake and Locke both plopped down on the ground. Lake patted the ground next to them. “It’s gonna be a long explanation, make yourself comfy.”
Hunter slowly sat down next to them. “How many times have you heard it?”
“A lot,” they chorused.
“And yet, you continue to return every time a new Grimwalker appears for me to explain it,” Sam responded.
“You explain it different every time,” Locke piped up, “What if we miss something new?”
Sam shook his head. “Alright, so there are the main glyphs, of course, but you can combine them in specific ways to do something new. If you’d like later, I can show you some, or maybe these two clowns can, since they’ve listened to me explain this about a billion times apparently.”
“I can’t,” Locke said serenely.
“Liar, I have seen you put a pen in your mouth and write with better handwriting than some of your brothers. Anyway, point being, long story short, for the purposes of further explanation of this lab, one of these combos is how good ol’ Uncle Bels petrified and is still petrifying people! Hooray. Anyway, I’m trying to figure out the anti-glyph, a glyph that will do the opposite.” He gestured to the half dead and stone flowers around him with the flower in his hand. “As you can tell, it’s going marvelously.” He gathered up the stone flowers, laying them at the feet of the statue like a bouquet on the grave.
“Why were you acting all suspicious earlier?”
“Oh, that’s just how he acts all the time,” Lake commented, “Like we said, Sam has a problem with looking and sounding threatening and fishy all the time.”
Locke nodded. “Pretty much all of us have always been in high golden guard trouble alert around him until we got used to it.”
“I’m used to sneaking around,” Sam said matter-of-factly, “I studied wild magic LONG before I came here, and it wasn’t exactly a supported subject. I was quite good at it, too, before our dearest Uncle Belmont figured out I wasn’t always using my staff and broke my neck for it.”
Hunter’s hand went up to his own neck. So maybe it wouldn’t have made a difference if I’d known about the glyphs sooner.
Sam waved his hands. “But hey, I got better! And now I’m doing this, and I can study wild magic to my heart’s content, provided I do all of the experimenting myself. Wow, it’s a mess in here.” He scooped up the dead flowers and tossed them onto a glyph that he activated to incinerate them. “Any questions about my apparently ever-so-creepy lab?”
“Can’t you just… write the opposite glyphs in the same pattern? Or something?”
“Mmmm, that would be nice. Unfortunately, the glyphs don’t have a natural opposite, ice, fire, plant, light, no, there isn’t a clear choice there. Plus, the glyphs can get HUGE and complicated. In some cases, it’s easier to just do without them because of how long they take to draw. I’m sure I COULD make a glyph that would cook a meal for you, but to do so would take up as much time as simply cooking the meal myself. Petrification is one of the more complex glyphs, and I’m sure the glyph that undoes it will undoubtedly be just as complicated.” Sam threw his hands up in the air. “Or randomly simple! I don’t know. Which is why I’m testing it on these flowers before I irreversibly mess up our brother.”
“And we are so proud of you for your restraint,” Locke said seriously as Lake nodded.
“Okay, if you two are just going to tease me, then out.” Sam shooed the three of them out. “Go experiment with some glyphs. I hope you blow your faces off.”
“That’s very insensitive,” Locke said in a hurt voice, “Given how I lost my arms!”
“And given how I died,” Lake agreed.
“You got sealed in a well and left to starve or asphyxiate, and your arms were ripped off, neither of you exploded, now leave!” Sam shut the door.
“Rude,” Locke said amiably.
“Very,” Lake agreed. They turned to face Hunter. “Do you want us to teach you some glyph combos?”
Hunter rubbed his temples. He could feel a headache coming on. “I think that’s enough long explanations for one day, thanks.”
#it is a fine line between 'you need to take responsibility for your own actions' and 'victim blaming' and wittebro is STRUTTING it#toh#the owl house#gilded family au#toh fanfiction#wittebro#the golden guard
50 notes
·
View notes
Text
Pix, where's your couch?
Some fluff to counter all the angst I've read in the last 24hrs. (Silly move as made myself cry - too many talented writers out there breaking my heart). Or at least if not fluff no angst.
Probably more a teen and up fic than general but still fairly clean (I think... I rubbish at knowing what ratings etc really).
Masterlist
...............................................
Jason stared at the space in the middle of the room.
“Pix, where’s your couch?”
“Hmmm, Jay?”
“I know you said that I could crash at your place again, so, umm, where’s the couch?”
“Oh, It had one to many blood stains so I got rid of it. You always said it was like sleeping on rocks anyway, so I’ve ordered a new one. It’s arriving next week.”
Marinette beamed up at Jason, bouncing on her toes with excitement while she grabbed his hand.
“It’s so pretty, Jay. I’m so happy that I finally could get rid of the old one and get a new beautiful comfy amazing sofa. You should see the pattern on the material. Oh oh and the detail on the frame. Hang on! I'll see if I can find a picture… you have to see it."
Marinette suddenly dropped his hand in favour of dashing about her apartment hunting for the picture as Jason's eyes darted between the chaotic woman and the space where the couch should be. Yes he'd asked to crash at her place in the past and always moaned that the couch was the worst thing to sleep on ever, but it was better than having to be near his family when he wanted to hide. Aaand he also might have come round earlier in the week before heading back to the cave to get some wounds seen to for an easier journey… but still had he really left the couch in such a state she decided to finally listen to his advice and get a new one?
"Pix, that's great and all but umm, where am I going to sleep?"
"In my bed, silly. It's the only other place."
Jason groaned and dragged his hand down his face. He knew what was going to happen next.
"Pix, darling, sweetheart, where are you going to sleep? You can't work all night which I know you love doing. You need to rest too. Look, I'll just call Roy up again and see if I can crash at one of his safe houses. Bruce is less likely to know about those."
"Jay, I'll just sleep next to you. The bed's big enough for the both of us. It'll be fine so you don't need to call Roy."
"What?!"
"It'll be fine. We can share the bed for the night. Now go dump your stuff in my room and I'll make us some dinner."
Jason grimaced as he knew there was no escaping. Roy, the arsehole, would tease him mercilessly if he didn't stay, and if he went he'd hurt Marinette's feelings as she'd offered up her home, her bed, for him to hide.
…………
"Jay, you're as stiff as a dead body. This is meant to be relaxing. If you don't want to watch this film we can sit on my dining room chairs and watch the TV out there. Or I can find some cards so we can play games at the table?"
"Nope, this is fine, Pix."
"Really? Then relax. You don't need to be so tense."
Jason took a deep breath and slowly let it out and forced himself to loosen his muscles and sink into the comfort of Marinette's bed. Apparently, due to having no seating in her living room, she'd taken to watching stuff on her laptop in bed if she wasn't working. Now the pair were both sitting on her bed watching some film she'd selected. Suddenly she trilled next to him.
"Ooo I know what will help. I bought some decent wine back from France with me after visiting my parents. I'll go get it. It's much nicer than the stuff I've found here. You'll love it Jay. It's the perfect thing to help us destress from the week."
Before Jason could respond she'd danced out the room, giggling to herself about her 'great' idea.
Jason swore to himself. He could do this. It wasn't a big deal. He could control himself. He could sit 'very' close and sleep next to his crush. It was only a crush. Not love. In her bed. It won't be that hard. He just needed to keep his cool. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to figure out a strategy to survive the night.
Before he had mentally formalised his survival plan Marinette burst back into the room, glasses and wine in hand, only to trip on her bedroom rug and crash face first into his lap. Miraculously saving the wine and glasses. Jason carefully removed them from her grasp as she turned to peer up at him wide eyed, face dangerously close to where it currently shouldn't be for his sanity.
"Oops. I keep doing that. I really should move that rug. Sorry Jay."
Jason let out an inaudible whine and closed his eyes slowly counting to 10. This was going to be as hard as he originally thought it was going to be.
"S'okay, Pix. Just get up so we can have the wine and watch the film."
Awkwardly smiling at Jason, Marinette detangled her legs and climbed over him to get settled next to him again. Carefully she took the wine bottle off him to open and poured some into the glasses he held out for her. After putting the bottle on her bedside table, she turned her attention back to Jason and the film.
"Now we can relax properly. Guessing you're not ready to vent about Bruce yet."
"Nah, not really. You're making an effort to cheer me up and distract me so don't want to bring the evening down. And don't look at me like that! This is perfect Pix, a much better way to relax. If I wanted to vent I'd go punch and shoot scum. Do *you* want to vent about your latest commission though?"
She looked guiltily at him, "Do you mind?"
Jason looked softly at her and smiled, "Go ahead Pix."
Suddenly it was like a dam had opened and she was telling him about the ridiculous demands expected of her. The issues with the material. How her sewing machine was not playing ball and likely needed a service or replacement part soon.
Jason gazed fondly at his friend (crush) nattering animatedly away. With wine in hand he relished the soft warmth of the room. She was right about the wine helping to relax, the film long forgotten as they chatted away enjoying the safe space she had created under the glow of the fairy lights.
It was only when the film had stopped that they were drawn out of their discussions.
"Oh! We kinda missed that film huh?"
"Yup, Pix we did. And we've finished that bottle as well."
"I'll set another film up, did you want to change and do your ablutions while I set it up."
"Change?" Jason squawked out.
Marinette turned to glare at him. "Yeah, change. You're not sleeping in my bed in jeans Jay. So go change. I'll sort myself in a minute too."
Jason reluctantly left to go to the bathroom and quickly changed. After cleaning his teeth he splashed cold water in his face. He had managed so far. He'd resisted brushing her hair out her face. He'd resisted pulling her close as she leant on his shoulder as she laughed. He resisted kissing her when she pouted when telling her story.
He could do this.
As he returned Marinette slipped out telling him to sort the bed out for them to lie down for the next film. The stars had long since come out and Jason begrudgingly agreed that there was a high chance that they 'could' fall asleep in the next one. (Okay, it was a low chance given his nightly antics and her insomnia but he'd play along with her belief.)
Jason had settled, still sitting in the bed but under covers this time as Marinette re-emerged.
She was trying to kill him.
He had played nice wearing a vest and joggers. She, Marinette, had dressed to kill in just an oversized T-Shirt that hung off her shoulder and brushed the tops of her thighs.
Jason squeezed his hands into fists as she carefully this time manoeuvred around the room, showing off her long legs. Apparently she had a late growth spurt and finally took more after her father than her mother now. Breaking his gaze from her legs as she moved round the other side of the bed he sent her a tight smile as she climbed in next to him.
"You all set for the next film?"
"mm hmm"
As she lent forward to press play, Jason darted his eyes to the ceiling. Marinette turned around to see Jason staring up and laughed.
"Jay, that's sweet and all but I do have sleep shorts on. You'd not see my underwear. Plus you're my friend. I trust you."
"You couldn't have warned me!"
"Nah, seeing your reaction was funny. Now shhh film time."
Sitting back, Marinette grabbed a blanket and wrapped it around her shoulders and smoothed the duvet down before resting her head against Jason's shoulder snuggling into his arm. She smiled and sighed in contentment as she lost herself in the film.
Jason's blue screened for a moment as his friend cuddled into his arm. He knew she often did this on the couch but still having her do this in bed, in her pajamas, was another matter. He should have been better prepared. He had thought his mission earlier was a challenge. It had now reached monumental difficulty. Feeling her warm breath dance across his arm. Clear smell of her fading perfume. Hearing her slight murmurs to herself as she focused on the plot playing out before them. It took a ridiculous amount of his strength to remain relaxed and try to focus on the film.
He almost lost it as Marinette drowsily started to slowly stroke the bare skin of his arm.
"Come on Pix, let's lay down. You're hardly awake currently. I'll turn the film off for us."
".. mmm.. no... I'm.. I'm awake..you're so hot… *yawn* nice and safe... and toasty… I .. I can..*yawwwwn* fin..esh fim.."
Jason choked when said she was hot until he realised that she meant he was warm. Carefully he extracted his arm from her octopus grip and got her lying down, before turning the film off. He left one set of fairy lights on as knew Mariette disliked sleeping in the dark.
Taking a moment to steal himself, Jason watched as Marinette buried herself deeper into the blankets and duvet. He had checked whether it'd be ok to top and tail the bed earlier, Marinette's glare at the suggestion and the insults about his 'big stinking smelly gross' feet being near her face pushed that option out the window pretty quickly. Especially with some of the creative insults thrown in as well.
Despite all his nerves feeling like they were on fire, Jason slowly crawled back in the bed to settle. The soft lighting, the quiet sound of Marinette breathing, the warmth embracing him, Jason suddenly felt all his energy escape. Forcing himself to relax was tiring. Holding himself back was exhausting. The week had been draining. Surprisingly quickly Jason succumbed to sleep.
…………
Jason woke to light filtering into the room. He felt unusually well rested and content. A warm fuzzy happy feeling that he'd not felt in such a long time flowed through him. Sighing he went to turn only to find that he couldn't move.
Sluggish memories and realisations started to speed up and come to the forefront of his mind. That he was sleeping in Marinette's bed. Next…. Under!?!?! Marinette.
It appeared that Marinette had somehow in the night starfished face down across the bed and now her face was resting across his chest. Her hair was a bird's nest of tangles cascading down to his arm. One hand had a razor clam of a grip on the bottom of his shirt unwilling to let go. One leg was tangled up with his.
It would have been a surprise and embarrassing if he hadn't witnessed putting Marinette to bed as a tiny curled up ball to discover her in the morning sprawled out across the bed in a similar fashion to this. Except this time he was semi pinned down by her. He would say the only embarrassment was that he'd forgotten she got like this. And no other reason at all.
As Marinette still slept, Jason's brain slowly woke more and more. He took on his sleeping friend and admired the peace that was on her face. The lack of stress that graced her features. She was gorgeous normally but at this moment she looked ethereal. Jason basked in the morning warmth slowly threading his fingers through her hair to detangle the large knots. He could get used to this. Too used to this. The comfort. The simplicity. The domestic-ness of it all.
Lost in his own thoughts he didn't notice Marinette stir and blearily looked at him with one eye open.
"Mor'n Jay," a croaked voice drew his attention back to his friend lying across his chest, "Di'ja sleep k?"
"Yeah, Pix," came his soft reply, "best night sleep in a while. I understand why you had the lumpy stone of a couch now. You spent all your cash on this cloud of a bed. How did you sleep?"
She turned her face completely into his chest and he felt her chuckle against him before shifting herself so she was now lying curled up next to him, her face closer to his as she rested against his shoulder.
"Best in ages. No nightmares. At all. Never get nightmares when next to you. You make the cloud bed perfect, Should get you to stay in it forever."
Jason turned to gawk at the woman whose eyes remained closed as curled up against him, "Pix, you can't just say things like that!"
"What? Wha'ja mean? What did I say?"
"Saying that I made your bed perfect. That you want me to stay here forever. It gives the whole wrong impression."
"But I meant it, Jay. Last night I slept all the way through because of you. I love being with you. So why wouldn't I want you around?"
Slowly opening her eyes Marinette leant forward and up to kiss his chin before giggling as she moved away.
"Pix, you're killing me here."
"With what weapon? We're in bed and your weapons are next to you, not me…. And why would I kill you?"
Twisting so he could face her properly, Jason gazed as his semi drowsy friend in soft whispered tones said.
“By making it hard not to ruin our friendship. I love what we have now and I don’t want to lose it.”
“What do you mean? You won’t ruin our friendship. We’ve been through too much for it to be ruined.”
“By doing something stupid.”
“Stupid?”
Her eyes widened as she looked at him in puzzlement, more awake than moments earlier. She pursed her lips trying to figure out what he was trying to say was stupid, unconciously drifting closer to him.
“Yeah, something really stupid.”
“Oh… the only thing really to ruin our friendship would be to leave or betray me… you’re not going to be that stupid are you?”
“No, I don’t want to leave you. Ever really. Being like this is perfect. I… I love being with you… you’re my best friend, just don’t tell Roy that.”
Marinetre softly smiling at Jason, “Ok. I won’t. This is almost perfect, but… did you know what would make it better?”
With their foreheads now touching, in the warmth of the blankets and duvets and filtered light pouring in the window, Jason shook his head. He couldn't figure out what she meant to be better. The moment felt like a perfect dream to him.
"No. What would make this better?"
"If you kissed me."
It took a few seconds for Jason's brain to process the words before it was like the dam had burst, all the restraint he'd used in the last 12 hours, for the last number of months, collapsed. Jason leant forward capturing Marinette's lips with his own.
One of her hands reached up and tangled into his hair as the other rested on his chest. His wrapped around her waist pulling her closer. They lost themselves in the moment as they deepened the kiss while pouring their emotions into it, showing their feelings they have been too afraid to say out loud.
Eventually, they parted breathing heavily. Marinette gave a breathy chuckle.
"Finally."
"Huh?"
"It only took you the whole night, then to be told to do that."
"What?!"
Jason's brain struggled to work out what Marinette was saying. His current focus was more on the sensation of holding Marinette so close. His lips still tingled from her kissing her. It was only because her hand moved to cradle his cheek and she kissed his nose that his attention was drawn back to her.
"Jay, you sweet Doofus, I've been flirting with you for months. You've not noticed what's so ever so drastic measures needed to be taken."
"You've been flirting with me???"
"Yes. Even Roy noticed, he helped me with this."
"You mean this was planned?!?"
"Yup. Completely planned. And Roy even helped me get rid of the couch."
"You planned a 'there's only one bed' situation? Sneaky Pix, that's sneaky."
"Worked didn't it. Plus you love the cliche troupes. Don't deny it."
Jason leaned in close to Marinette, a breath away from her.
"Can't deny it, but we've got months of idiocy to catch up on."
With that Marinette closed the gap to capture his lips. They had the rest of the day to work out and discuss how they felt, right now, right now was for kissing and cuddling in bed. Who knew all that together she just needed to replace her couch.
#maribat#maribat au#dc x mlb#ml x dc#dc x ml#mlb x dc#jason x marinette#marinette x jason#jasonette#one bed#fluff writing
320 notes
·
View notes
Text
Taking Chances Ch. 23: Stealing the Batmobile (Alt Prompt Driving)
AO3
Prev
Marinette looks at her little brother with an amused expression before asking:
“He really stole the Batmobile?”
“Yup. Claimed he was a better driver than me.” Dick says with a snort. Marinette winces.
“To be fair, he’s probably right. You’re kind of an awful driver.” She says with an apologetic smile. Dick clutches his heart and sniffles loudly.
“My own flesh and blood!” He cries dramatically. Damian scoffs.
“Tt. She is on my side, Grayson. As she should be since she is <i>my<i> flesh and blood.” He says with a scowl.
“The pain!” Dick cries, throwing himself off the couch and onto the ground. Jason just sighs and shakes his head, while Tim looks on tiredly. The five of them had decided to hang out at the manor together earlier, which had somehow shifted into telling stories about each other and funny things that had happened. Marinette loved hearing stories about her brothers from when they were younger.
“Out of all of us, I am likely the most competent driver.” Damian says, glancing at Marinette before nodding once. “And I assume Marinette would be the second most competent.” He adds. Marinette’s face instantly turns red- she’d never driven before. Her little brother (who was two years younger) was already a great driver. And she…..was not.
“Oh, uh, I’ve actually never driven before.” She admits. Damian frowns.
“Wait, you’re almost fifteen and you’ve never driven before?” Jason asks, leaning forward. “Like, ever”
“Well, no. You can’t get a license in France until you’re eighteen. So no one in their right mind is going to let a fourteen year old drive around the city.” She explains. She watches as a thoughtful look crosses Damian’s face before settling back into a neutral mask.
“I require your assistance with something. Follow me.” He says, standing and walking out of the room.
“Er, okay.” She says, furrowing her eyebrows. “We’ll be right back.” She reassures her other brothers. She walks quicker, trying to catch up with Damian who was practically running at this point. He glances at her and raises an eyebrow.
“Did the others act as if they would follow?” He asks. She frowns, but shakes her head. “Excellent.” He says, opening one of the entrances to the Batcave. She follows him, but freezes as they walk in and she sees where he’s heading.
“Damian, we’d get into so much trouble.” She says, planting her feet and freezing in place.
“Not if we aren’t caught. Which we will be if we don’t leave soon.” He says, rushing into the changing room. She stays where she is, glancing down at Tikki peeking out of her purse.
“Marinette, your father would not like this.” She warns. Marinette bites her lip.
“I know, but Damian seemed so excited.” She counters, with a small smile. Tikki gives her an unimpressed look. Marinette watches as her little brother walks back out, dressed in his uniform. He nods at her once and then climbs into the driver’s side. She hesitates, weighing her options. She could go with and attempt to drive the Batmobile, or she could watch her little brother drive away and know that no one knew where he was. Crap. Pushing away every instinct telling her this is a horrible idea, she rushes after Damian and hops into the car, calling her transformation as she does. She grins at her brother, her Ladybird suit had started giving her more confidence than her Ladybug suit. It was odd, but she loved it. He immediately slams on the gas, driving out of the cave and into Gotham.
“Ukht, will you be driving as well?” He asks and she hesitates before nodding. It was the Batmobile, what could go wrong?
---
Okay apparently a lot could go wrong, she thinks, watching as the Batmobile slides into the Gotham river.
“How the fuck did you guys manage that?” A voice asks. She whirls around, wincing when she sees Jason, as Red Hood. She can’t see his face but she can just imagine the look he’s giving them.
“In my defense, we were left unsupervised.” She says. He scoffs.
“You little shits left us!” He reminds her.
“Ladybird had never had the chance to drive before. It made sense to make sure that she could drive and to train her in case she ever needs to utilize a vehicle on patrol.” Damian reasons. And yeah, the reasons are sound. But the Batmobile slowly sinking into the river kind of makes his reasons weak. Just a bit.
“And driving into the river was, what, to see if she could drive a boat?” Jason asks, crossing his arms.
“Don’t be ridiculous, Hood. That’s a car.” She says, the words tumbling out of her mouth. She regrets it, but only for a second because then she hears Damian snort. Score! Every time she was able to make her angriest brother laugh, she gave herself a point. She was so close to double digits.
“Well B’s gonna be ready to go on patrol in less than an hour. Either of you two geniuses have any ideas on how to get the car out of the river and back to the cave?” Jason asks, pulling Marinette from her silent celebration.
“We could call a tow truck.” She suggests.
“Tt. That is unwise. The Batmobile is not a regular car.” Damian argues and she huffs.
“Okay well, last I checked you didn’t have any bright ideas either.” She quips, annoyed with him again. They were good at that. Laughing one minute, then annoying each other the next. She figured it just meant they were doing something right as siblings.
“Ladybird might actually have a good idea, Robin. Unless you want to call Superman here and have him rat you out to B.” Jason says. A devious smirk stretches onto Damian’s face and Marinette suppresses a shudder. She was definitely glad the kid was on her side. Most of the time, anyway.
“Excellent point, Hood.” He says, clearing his throat slightly before yelling. Well, not really yelling. Just talking slightly louder than normal. “Jon. I require your assistance.” A few moments later a boy flies down and lands in front of Damian. If she didn’t know any better, Marinette would assume the boy was another of her dad’s kids. Dark hair, blue eyes. But this kid had a huge smile stretched across his face. So maybe not.
“Hey Robin! I haven’t seen you in ages!” The boy says cheerfully before waving at Red Hood. He turns to her and his smile falters slightly before it’s back full blast. He sticks out his hand. “Nice to meet you! I’m Superboy.” He says. Marinette grins, shaking his hand back.
“Ladybird, and likewise.” She says.
“So what-” Jon (Superboy?) starts, glancing at the river, eyes widening at the car. “Did you steal the Batmobile again!?” He yelps, obviously shocked. And concerned. Which she understood. It’s not everyday you see the Batmobile slowly sinking into the Gotham river.
“Er, temporarily misappropriated.” Marinette says, glaring at Jason who snorts at her response.
“No, they definitely stole it. And Ladybird here decided she’d try to drive for the first time. What I’m not understanding is why you knuckleheads thought it’d be smart to drive so close to the river?” He says.
“Obviously I wasn’t thinking clearly, Hood. Can we please just focus on getting the car out of the river before I’m murdered by Batman?” Marinette rambles, looking pleadingly at Jon. It was odd, begging a little kid to drag her superhero dad’s super car out of a river, but it had to be done.
“Oh, yeah, of course!” Jon says, his earlier shock replaced with a wide smile once again. He flies over and grabs the car, gently pulling it up and placing it back on the road. Marinette winces at the water pouring out of the car. She was so grounded.
---
Walking into the Batcave, Bruce frowns at the lack of Batmobile. He’d passed Tim and Dick on his way to the Cave, so he knew they didn’t have it. Which left his two most mischievous sons and the daughter they had so easily corrupted. Hopefully they were just getting fast food or something again. Hopefully nothing bad was happening. He winces. That was unlikely with his children. He rushes over to the computer, tracking the Batmobile and accessing the cameras near the car. The image in front of him makes him pinch the bridge of his nose and grit his teeth.
“Just one day, one day is all I ask.” He mumbles under his breath. Because of course traffic cameras would catch Superboy lifting the Batmobile out of the river. Of course. He sits in his chair and watches as the kids argue for a few minutes before getting in the car and driving off. He tracks them all the way until they’re past cameras, and then he waits. Knowing it’ll only be moments until they’re in the Cave. He sits, silent as they get out of the car.
“No, seriously, he’s gonna know.” Marinette is saying, obviously looking nervous.
“Then beg Tikki to take all the water out or something. It’ll be fine, Pix.” Jason says.
“She’s gonna be so mad at me though. She warned me that it was a bad idea.” Marinette says, and Bruce decides to speak up.
“She was right.” He says, turning his chair to face them.
“SHIT! Goddamn you Bruce, why the hell would you sneak up on us like that?” Jason huffs out, glaring at him.
“Perhaps it’s the same reason that you three thought it was a good idea to steal the Batmobile.” Bruce says, crossing his arms.
“Uh, fuck that. I wasn’t in on it. I went out to try and find the little shits when I realized they were gone.” Jason argues, crossing his arms too.
“Ukht had never driven before. I believed it was a useful skill that she could utilize on future missions or patrols.” Damian says simply, his calm demeanor the complete opposite of Marinette’s current demeanor. She’s obviously panicked and anxious, avoiding looking at him. He feels his former resolve soften slightly. No one was hurt, they obviously felt bad. And Marinette obviously felt bad about it. But still….
“You’re benched for the night. Both of you.” He instructs. Damian grits his teeth but nods, while Marinette looks confused.
“But I’m not even-” She starts to say, stopping as Jason throws a hand over her mouth.
“Well, well, look at the time. I’ll take them upstairs and tuck ‘em in before patrol.” Jason says, rushing away with Marinette and leaving Damian behind. Damian turns to Bruce and frowns.
“It did not go unnoticed by me, Father, that you benched the one child you do not allow to patrol. You may have done this in an attempt to not punish Marinette, but make no mistake she will remember this. And she will be on patrol later this week. After all, you only benched her for tonight.” Damian says, nodding at his father before walking away. Bruce sighs. He hadn’t thought this one through.
---
“What was that for?” Marinette asks, frowning at her brother as he drags her to the house. She drops her transformation as they walk, wincing slightly at the ‘we’ll talk later’ look from Tikki. Oh yeah, she was definitely getting lectured.
“He just benched you for tonight, right?” Jason asks, a smirk on his face. Marinette huffs.
“Yeah, but I’m not even technically allowed on patrols.” She reminds him.
“Except now, you’re technically allowed to come tomorrow. He said you were ‘benched for the night’.” Jason points out. Marinette opens her mouth to argue, then closes it. She blinks before a wide smile stretches across her face. Was she really gonna get to go back on patrol on a technicality? Suddenly, she no longer regretted driving the Batmobile into the river.
Next
Tag list: @maribat-bdbwm @vixen-uchiha @stainedglassm @liquid-luck-00 @laurcad123 @waiting247 @jayjayspixiepop @mizzy-pop @jjmjjktth @trippingovermyfeet @queenz-z @thepaceperson @iloontjeboontje @toodaloo-kangaroo @ritacrow-blog @deathssilentapproach-blog @kittenmywaythrulife @nerd-nowandforever @tazanna-blythe @jaybird-and-co @jumpingjoy82 @lady-bee-fechin @corporeal-terrestrial
#maribat#maribat fanfiction#maribat fanfic#maribat bio dad bruce#maribat bio dad! bruce wayne month 2021#maribat bio dad au#maribat bruce wayne#maribat marinette dupain cheng#maribat marinette dupain cheng is ladybird#maribat damian wayne#maribat jason todd#maribat jon kent#platonic timari#platonic jasonette#platonic dickinette#platonic daminette#mbdbwm2021
106 notes
·
View notes
Text
Tues 8 June ‘21
Harry recorded a message that was played at the Stoneman Douglas High School graduation; SD is the school in Parkland Florida that in 2018 became the site of the deadliest school shooting in US history. Harry has consistently been a vocal supporter of the student activism to curb gun violence that followed the shooting (it was when he added the Stop Gun Violence stickers to his guitar and he spoke about it before when playing near there on HSLOT, for example, as well as signing on to things and donating money and talking about the bravery of the young women leading the effort in particular). “You are an incredibly strong group of people and I have no doubt that you’ll all do incredible things whatever you chose to do in the future, so good luck, love each other and be nice to each other and I hope at some point I’ll get to see you guys,” he said in the video.
A blurry blob in a blue hoodie in London last night was said to be him, out for a stroll, Don’t Worry Darling was announced to be set for release next year, and some fans literally chased Harry and Olivia down the street while filming them against their wishes (recently, not today, seems like she might be back in the US with Jason now that his filming is wrapped) and then people tried to blame their behavior on... larries?? UM did larries possess them and force them to literally chase a person asking to be left alone I DON’T BELIEVE SO, I am BEGGING you guys to quit listening to anything anyone on twitter says. My Policeman is filming in Hitchin, at a location reported by local media to be “shrouded in mystery”, but I’m pretty sure the hordes gathered to peep at filming have killed any aura of mystery at this point. They are working on location at a pool in Butts Close (YEAH I KNOW) and are apparently besieged with fans, some of whom managed to get more pictures of a blurry blob said to be Harry- this time in tiny yellow short shorts (2021/1950 version)!
Niall and Anne Marie’s Tonight Show performance aired! Anne Marie’s black and white cheetah print lined three piece outfit is amazing, like Niall is pushing the envelope a little with shapes and fits but her look takes center stage I’m afraid; anyway also they sound great and are cute, yes yes.
Liam has been in his discord lots, commenting on things and polling people. Current polls, yes no or wtf about NFTs, which landslide result (wtf) got him to say yeah okay I’ll make an explainer, and should we rename my fandom which resulted in a chat for people to make suggestions. About front runner Paynedora’s Box (Liam’s own amazing suggestion) he said “it came to me as I thought it meant every type of fan is a possibility, never know what you’re going to encounter.” Yes plus Pandora’s Box was full of demons! Apt indeed though Liam’s fans are sweeter than some, it’s true. He gives a little love to Champaynes too, which is good though given our boy’s struggle with alcohol addiction I’ll stick with my vote for the first one. He posted from an “impromptu night photoshoot” (about which his hair guy said “bringing the grit back, prepping for a very exciting launch…”), followed NFT co-creator Gabe Damast who later posted some behind the scenes talk about the making of Lonely Bug (with glimpses!) and the page for animated film Ron’s Gone Wrong, which he commented about (“this looks amazing!”), liked a Lonely Bug fanart of the bug with his face on it, and signed on to a UNICEF letter, along with 28 other celebs, asking the G7 (rich countries) to donate vaccines for distribution where most needed. And he was seen today at a Top Golf! An employee posted a distanced pic with him. Also btw those necklaces he’s been wearing all the time lately are apparently diamonds and are £50k each, but he wasn’t wearing them for golf time at least.
And additional bits from Liam’s interview from yesterday because it’s REALLY LONG, one recap wasn’t enough-- Liam said he definitely has not yet figured out what makes him happy (which makes me sad although also, normalize not having it all figured out in your 20s I don’t think that’s unusual) and talked about the difficulty of figuring out what to do when you’ve already accomplished your life goal so young, he mentioned the people speaking out against the X Factor and that he thinks there needs to be a care system for people in those shows, and said “find you a man who looks at you like Russell Brand looks at you when he’s listening to your stories, he looks into your soul,” and when host Steve talks about meditating naked says “now that’s what I want to think about!” (they’d been talking about what to focus your thoughts on for meditation). He said he wants to experiment with the way he does promo, specifically to wait to see if a song is doing well before doing press tours that might not have any point and that he thinks the industry is in a place where they need to throw out the old molds, and he talked about the industry wasting money on things they don’t need to do for promo. “You have your fanbase, grow it organically, properly,” he said, which is so much more true for any one of the 1D boys than anyone else, for sure, and it makes sense he’d say this stuff not just for the obvious reasons- we’ve all seen how badly labels have fallen short with post 1D solo stuff- but also because the 1D fandom always has been in a position out at the forefront of new ways that fan engagement work (as Liam points out, he talked about the perfect storm of the rise of twitter trends and of 1D) and modeling what will be next for other artists, so trying to fit it into old boxes doesn’t make sense, and it’s still true. Other solo artists simply DON’T HAVE the same kind of fandom these five do, and trying to market them the same way you would any random artist is just throwing away money and engagement! So it is exciting to see these guys take the lead on their own stuff and experiment with new ways of doing things, and Liam is smashing it at that.
#harry styles#niall horan#liam payne#tw gun violence#tw shooting#drag we down#my policeman filming#butts close#there's a very short shorts/butt's close joke to be made but eh#his butt is... close to the bottom of those shorts?? HEH? idk you'll just have to imagine it#something pretty much like that only actually funny#can anyone come up wiht good Liam fandom names I WANNA HEAR THEM#8 jun 21#tw alcoholism
150 notes
·
View notes
Text
Batfam Alphabet: L - Language
Summary: Jason doesn’t hesitate to drag his brothers down with him when Bruce starts reprimanding him about the type of language he uses on a daily basis.
Enjoy! :D
“Well this is just a load of bullshit! Why do they have to intervene? We’re perfectly capable of handling this.” Jason huffs and crosses his arms over his chest as he leans back in his chair. He can’t believe what he's hearing.
On the opposite side of the table Bruce levels him with a hard look. “Watch your language Jason.”
Jason blinks before sitting up straight. “What, it’s not like the kid is currently around to overhear."
“Jason!”
Glaring at the man, Jason scowls. This seems to be a regular topic of conversation between them recently because according to Bruce Jason swears too much, especially when he’s around Damian. The man, for whatever reason, wants Jason to be a good role model for the kid and apparently that includes him not swearing.
So now anytime he swears, Bruce points it out with a matching scolding tone and expression.
It’s a ridiculous notion because Jason being who he is was brought up with swearing, living on the streets for so many years exposed him to all kinds of things, one of which being the language people use. Swearing is just part of his vocabulary, half of the time he isn’t even aware he is doing it. As long as he’s not swearing at someone, then surely there should be some leniency.
“Oh come on!” He exclaims with a wave of his hands. “He’s been raised as an assassin, he was already tainted before we even met. Me saying a few words isn’t doing any harm.”
Before Bruce could respond a new voice joins the conversation. “To be fair you do swear a lot. Maybe you should try and tone it down.”
Jason turns to his right to glare at his older brother who’s lounging comfortably next to him. “Oh fuck off, Dick, no one asked for your opinion.”
Dick stares back unimpressed, he raises both eyebrows as if to say, “really?”
Jason recalls what he said and grits his teeth.
He points menacingly at Dick. “That doesn’t prove anything. Quite frankly I grew up in Crime Alley, of course I’m gonna swear, you hear it every minute in that place and typically as a kid you’re gonna pick up the habit. You know what they say old habits die hard.”
“Just like you did?” A different voice retorts with a snort.
Jason switches his gaze to Tim, who is opposite him next to Bruce currently playing with his phone, and blinks at him in surprise. “Uh, excuse me? I don’t know whether to be insulted or proud by that.”
It’s usually only him who makes death jokes so it’s come as a surprise to find Tim making one, a well-timed one too. Jason shakes his head, he’ll deal with those emotions at another time.
“Anyway, if we’re talking about who swears too much then why aren’t you giving Tim a lecture? He swears like a bloody sailor. If anyone needs reprimanding on his language it’s him!”
Tim abruptly stops fiddling with his phone and looks up, he rolls his eyes and glowers at him. “Jesus Christ that’s so immature Jason. How old are you, 10? I’m no way near as bad as you.”
His response gets a gleeful chuckle out of Jason. He knows exactly how the next few minutes are about to play out and he can’t wait. While the focus of the conversation had been on him, he’s glad for the opportunity to move it onto someone else and Tim happens to be perfect for the new spotlight.
Without any hesitation Jason digs into his pocket and grabs his phone. Once he has the device in hand he starts searching for the video he has saved for this very purpose. Call him petty, but he knew it would be good blackmail material one day.
“Oh really?” He drawls out, finally finding the video he had been looking for, “then what do I have here…” Jason clicks play and puts it on speaker so everyone in the room would be able to hear the audio.
After a second the sound of Tim’s voice could be heard. The teenager was clearly angry about something and certainly wasn’t holding back from letting his anger be known through his choice of words.
“You bloody bastard, why won’t you work you piece of shit. By god this is pissing me off now, I’ve been at this all fucking day and you’re still not fucking working. I am going to kill…”
The recording lasts for about a minute and is filled with Tim swearing his head off, cursing at everything and everyone and making empty threats. Once it’s finished Jason turns his phone off, puts it back in his pocket and leans back in his chair feeling smug about the situation.
“I rest my case.”
His words are met with a stunned silence in the room. Tim is blushing hard with his head buried in his hands. Next to him Bruce looks concerned, probably for Tim’s mental health and wellbeing. Dick’s staring at Tim with shock spread across his features.
After a few beats Tim lifts his head from his hands but keeps his eyes down staring at the table so he could avoid everyone’s eyes. “Okay in my defence the technology was really piss–annoying me. It wouldn’t work and I couldn’t work out why so I got frustrated and that happened.”
His response makes Jason snort and causes Dick to shake his head in disbelief. He knew Tim could be feisty but until that moment he never realised how bad his temper could get. Jason’s honestly impressed. However that doesn’t mean he’s letting Tim get away with it, especially when he’s getting blamed for something Tim does just as much of as him.
If he's going down then he’s dragging Tim down with him. It’s just unfortunate that he doesn’t have anything on Dick.
Jason’s broken out of his thoughts on ways he could get blackmail material on Dick when Tim speaks up again. He’s finally looking up at everyone though his still flushed face shows his prior embarrassment.
“Let’s be honest, is swearing really all that bad? As long as we’re not swearing at people then I think it’s fine. We’re not harming anyone. Who cares if we swear a little too much. And anyway, doesn’t everyone swear at some point?”
“Clark doesn’t.” Dick pipes up next to him.
Jason snorts. “That’s because big blue is a boy scout, of course he isn’t going to swear. He doesn’t count. Plus we’re from Gotham after all, it’s not like this is the most impeccable place in the world.”
Dick becomes thoughtful, humming his response. “Yeah that’s true I guess.”
“Boys.”
The three brother’s all turn and look at Bruce who had called for their attention. Jason had forgotten the man was even there, he had surprisingly been quiet until now. Maybe it’s because Clark was brought into the conversation, it must have peaked his interest. Jason files that information away for later.
“It doesn’t matter how much any of you swear, you shouldn’t do it at all. Damian is still young, he doesn’t need to grow up listening to that sort of language despite his initial upbringing.” Bruce firmly says, looking at each of them in turn. “You all know better and have good manners, going forward I expect you to use them.”
As Bruce rattles on about proper manners and the importance of them, Jason finds himself resisting the urge to smile. With every second that passes, it threatens to break out on his face. What makes matters worse is that he knows he shouldn’t smile, this isn’t a smiling matter considering how serious Bruce is being but the man is making it difficult to concentrate and to take the topic seriously.
Jason glances to the right to find Dick staring at Bruce with a hand covering the lower part of his face and Jason can tell that his brother is in the exact same boat as he is.
Apparently all it takes for him to break is Dick to glance at him and for them to make eye contact.
After that Jason couldn’t help himself but to burst out laughing, next to him Dick also breaks out into a fit of giggles. They laugh for a good while until they’re able to start calming down, by that point Jason’s cheeks are hurting and he even had tears forming in his eyes. As he takes a deep breath to compose himself he makes the mistake of looking over at Dick again, Dick looks back at him too and just like that they fall into another uncontrollable laughing fit.
While laughing Jason gets a glimpse of a confused looking Tim and a disappointed Bruce, but it’s Bruce’s scowling expression that triggers off another wave of giggles.
It takes even longer for the two of them to calm down. As he sits there Jason repeatedly takes deep breaths in order to collect himself. Once he’s calmed down a little, now able to breathe somewhat normally, he could feel how his sides are aching, how his cheeks hurt from the wide smiling and the tears coming from his eyes. He can’t remember the last time he laughed so hard that it hurt, and over something so trivial nonetheless.
When it feels like he’s finally composed himself he risks a glance at Dick to find his brother also in the state of calming down though there’s still a wide grin on face. He then looks at Bruce who is still staring at the two of them with his disappointed look. That’s almost enough to set himself off again. Almost.
“If you’re both quite done, we have important business to discuss, may I remind you that being the reason we’re meeting to begin with.”
“Hey, you’re the one who started on the whole language topic that derailed us in the beginning.” Jason defends himself and his brother’s. All Bruce does is huff at that, knowing Jason is right and can’t defend himself against it otherwise. Jason smirks victoriously.
Opposite him, Tim sighs loudly and makes a show to sitting up straight and sorting out some of the paperwork between them all on table. “Enough already, can we just go over the details and the police reports again and get to the end of this. I have better things to do than hear everyone bicker about language and manners.”
Dick gives the youngest a side look. “What you got planned? Is that who you were messaging just now? Is it your boyfriend?”
“What? No. Just friends. I ain’t telling you.” Tim snaps glaring at Dick.
Jason whistles. “Timmy’s getting some tonight then eh? Make sure to stay safe and use protection.”
“Jason!”
“Well he’s not wrong Tim, but where are you going? We need to know so if something happens we know where to look first.” Dick’s looking more concerned by the minute and Jason could see the flip switch from carefree older brother to over-bearing mother hen.
Tim blinks at them before turning his gaze to Bruce. In a whining voice he pleads the man, “Bruce, get them to stop!”
To begin with all Bruce does is run a hand over his face like he’s regretting every life choice he’s made and how he would rather be anywhere else but here. After a moment he sends exasperated looks at his eldest sons.
“Not much more to go, then we should be all caught up and ready to proceed with the case further tomorrow. Is it too much to ask for your full attention for the remaining hour?”
Jason sighs and sits up straighter, knowing play time is over and it’s time to be serious. One more hour won’t hurt, then afterwards there’s nothing stopping him from having a little fun is there. He nods at Bruce and picks up the piece of paper closet to him to examine the page. Dick does the same and finally Bruce proceeds with their meeting.
#batfam alphabet#batfamily#Jason Todd#bruce wayne#dick grayson#Tim Drake#humour#lots of swearing#probably more than necessary#Brotherly Love#sibling relationship#annoying siblings#Petty Jason#this got away from me#i don't know what happened#tired dad bruce#fanfiction
59 notes
·
View notes
Text
I Remember (Malcolm Bright x Reader)
Request: uM hi saw ur request post while i was scrolling through malcolm bright x reader tag lol so may i request an x reader w malcolm where reader's gil's niece or smth so she and mal know each other before he joined the team- and one day where mal was being a dumbass and reader was told to drive mal home and when she was securing his restraints he jokingly asked her to sing to him aNd she did sing and fell asleep on the bed by opposite mal aND he got a good amount of sleep like no night terrors and next day he accidentally slipped that reader ''slept'' w him and gils just like excuse me wtf?? Djkdkdlsjsjs idk i got this idea when i was staring at the ceiling at 4 am instead of doing my essays that were due in the morningxD sorry its p long. Thanks and have a good day/night (by @iwillboilyourteeth), [Prodigal Son-Masterlist]
Summary: Malcolm got hurt again. What a surprise. And, as always, you were right there to take care of him. Tonight, though, things took a turn. For the better or for the worse? Only the future would tell.
Words: 2,142
Warnings: language, love me some sarcasm, fluff, so much fluff, I love writing for Prodigal Son (keep the requests coming)
Song used: “I Remember” by Jason Manns
If you like my work & wanna support me: a coffee would be highly appreciated ❤
You were sitting in your apartment when your phone started ringing loudly, interrupting your movie marathon. Sighing exaggeratedly, you checked who decided to annoy you at this time. It was not too late but you liked your alone time a lot. Gil. Oh no. That could never be good.
“Uncle Gil. I hope whatever you’re about to tell me is more important than Harry Potter.” pausing the movie you were currently watching, you did not even give him enough time to greet you. A loud sigh could be heard over the phone. One, that made you laugh.
“(Y/N).” his voice was stern & you knew better than to mess with him. Yet, you could not help yourself.
“Yeah, that’s me. You called me, after all.” joking to ease the tension, your giggling was cut short by his next words.
“Malcolm is a dumbass.”
“What a revelation.”
“He’s hurt.” Gil stated. Throwing your head back in frustration, you knew he only called you if he knew it was not too bad. But bad enough to need your help. “I need you to come get him.” it was not even a question, more like an order. Immediately, you grabbed the stuff you needed & headed out of your apartment towards your car.
“Can I yell at him for being reckless?” opening the door, you got inside but before you started the engine, you waited for the call to end. Could not risk getting youself hurt. Malcolm was the stupid one, not you.
“I already did that but I’m sure he’ll appreciate to hear it again.”
“Good.”
“Drive safe.” Gil noted.
“See you in ten.” & with that you drove to the precinct where he would most likely wait for you.
Growing up, you spent a lot of time at Gil’s. Malcolm was there almost always, so you got to meet each other pretty early on. Deep down, you cared for him. More than you should care for a friend. And because of him being a profiler, you were sure he picked up on that as well. Malcolm was just nice enough to not comment on it. Besides, he would tell you that he was too broken anyway. The thing was that it never scared you away. It did the exact opposite, actually. It only made you want him more.
Did you ignore almost every speed limit? Possibly. Your knuckles were white because you had gripped the steering wheel so tightly. One of these days, you would kill Malcolm. He kept getting himself hurt & you were tired of being the one to drive him home afterwards. Of course, you knew Gil only called you because Malcolm trusted you enough but that did not change the fact that you were exhausted.
“What happened?” approaching Gil, your eyes looked around for a sign of Malcolm. “And where the hell is he?”
“Bathroom.” his finger pointed over. “He didn’t call backup & thought dealing with it alone would turn out fine.” Gil was, you could tell, almost as tired as you. Not only of Malcolm acting recklessly but also because of a long day at work.
“What a surprise.” your sarcasm got the best of you. But it helped you coping with your feelings sometimes. “Uncle Gil?” his head snapped up when you said his name.
“Yes?”
“Go home & get some sleep. I got it from here, promise.” your sweet smile was convincing enough & with a nod, he turned around & walked away.
“(Y/N)?” Malcolm noticed you when he walked out of the bathroom. His face was covered in bruised & by the way he was limping, you were sure that his entire body had to be sore. “Where’s Gil?”
“I sent him home.” shrugging as if it were nothing, you gave Malcolm a look. He knew what it meant but apparently, he wanted to play dumb.
“What?” his head tilted slightly & if it were not for his damn puppy eyes & for the fact that he was hurt, you would be the cause of his bruises. Not quite literally but still. Rolling your eyes at him, you crossed your arms over your chest.
“You’re stupid, I hope you know that.”
“I do, but we caught the killer, so it was worth it.” he casually stated.
“Is it really worth risking your life, Mal?” shaking your head shortly, you were not in the mood to discuss this any further. A simple gesture of your hand was enough to show him that you wanted to get going. “Come on, I’m gonna bring you home.”
“You’re mad.” Malcolm noted when the both of you walked outside back to your car. Sighing loudly, you stopped for a brief moment.
“Yes. I’m mad because I can’t even count how many times we’ve been in this exact situation anymore. And it sucks. Because every single time Gil calls me, I think he’ll tell me that you didn’t make it out like you always do.” Malcolm’s eyes widened when you explained how you were feeling. Your body brushing past his made him turn around & follow you without another word. It was silent between you two until you arrived inside Malcolm’s apartment.
“I’m sorry, (Y/N).” he spoke up, his voice much softer now. When you saw him struggling to pull off his coat, you walked over to him to help him out.
“You don’t owe me an apology, Mal.” your back faced him when you went to put his jacket away.
“I do. You always take care of me when shit like that happens. And I wanted you to know that I don’t take that for granted. If I were you, I would’ve stopped caring a long time ago.”
“You know as much as I do that this won’t ever happen.” & it was true. Malcolm could mess up over & over again. Could get himself hurt & all that. But you would always be here to catch him, no matter what.
“I don’t deserve you.” his eyes bore into yours & by the look he gave you, you knew he was not talking about you taking care of him when he was hurt. He was referring to you as a person. Basically, he wanted to make you understand that he was not worthy of your love. Which was bullshit to you.
“You deserve so much & it hurts that you don’t see it.” the conversation dropped for the time being. Navigating your way through his apartment, you looked for something he could wear to bed. Soon enough, you found something suitable & when you walked back into the room ,you found Malcolm already sitting on his bed, head hanging low. He stopped you when he noticed your hands grabbing the shirt he was wearing. Sending him a confused look, your eyebrows raised in question.
“I think I can handle it from here on.” taking the clothes from you, he went to strip himself out of his workwear. Surprisingly, he could not move his body enough to achieve anything.
“Yeah, I can see that. Come on, don’t act like that, Malcolm.” it was not the first time you had helped him undressing. As mentioned earlier, the two of you had been in this situation too many times to count.
It did not take long & he was wearing comfortable clothes. After asking if he needed anything else, you went straight to his restraints & helped strapping him in. It amazed Malcolm how you were not weirded out by the fact that he had to be held down in order to have at least a few hours of sleep.
“(Y/N)?” his voice was barely above a whisper but your humming let him know that you heard him. “Can you sing something for me?” it was meant to be a joke, he simply wanted to ease the tension between you guys. Thinking about it for a second, you came to the conclusion that it would not hurt to do that. Maybe it would help him fall asleep? Malcolm eyes widened when you actually started singing quietly. It was soothing & he closed his eyes to focus solely on your voice.
Hey you, when I saw you walk in there
And I couldn’t help but stare
At the way you move your hands
‘Cause it’s the little things you do that drive me crazy
And now, let’s forget about the crowd
And just concentrate on us
So that you can know what I want you to know
I remember how it started
You had everything I wanted
I was helpless to resist
But I didn’t want to
Only if you would hold me tight
As we talked all through the night
About those things you won’t tell no one else
I know that we’ve got long ways to go
But I want you to know
That I’ll be there till the end, so don’t you worry
I remember how it started
You had everything I wanted
I was helpless to resist
But I didn’t want to
‘Cause I fell in love with you-ou-ou
After you finished, Malcolm still had his eyes closed, he just laid there for a while, recalling the words of the song. He knew what you were trying to tell him but if he had to be honest, he was scared. If the two of you were to try something, he thought you would leave him the moment you realized his demons were too much for someone to handle. Malcolm did not hear you leave his apartment, neither did he feel a movement. Opening his eyes slowly, he found you sound asleep right next to him. Your peaceful form made him smile brightly. Contemplating if he should wake you up, he decided against it in the end. Deep down, he knew you would not judge him he if he had a night terror next to you. And if he were honest, having you with him made him incredibly calm. That night, he fell asleep almost immediately, without any nightmares invading his dreams. The reason for it was you. Only you.
Malcolm woke up early the next morning. Work called. Okay, maybe Gild had told him to take a few days off but everyone who knew Malcolm, knew that he did not listen to such orders. Or any orders, in general. You were still asleep when he loosened his restraints. He left you a note behind before leaving his apartment for work.
“Didn’t I tell you to stay at home?” Gil questioned the second Malcolm entered the office where the rest of the team was already up & working.
“You did but I’m fine.” Gil rolled his eyes at his words. Usually, whenever Malcolm insisted on being fine, he was everything but. Examining his face closer, Gil was shocked to see him so…well rested?
“Wait. How much did you sleep last night? You look unusually awake.”
“Oh, yeah. That’s because I slept with (Y/N) last night.” Malcolm spoke casually & went to examine the pictures that were displayed on the table in the middle of the room. Gil’s eyebrows raised at that. Dani only sent him a weird look & JT almost choked on his coffee at Malcolm’s confession. There were some things he did not want to know & his love life was one of it.
“Excuse me, what now?” Gil was the first one to press the topic further. Everyone knew how protective he could get when it came to you, his niece. When Malcolm turned around, he found three pairs of eyes looking sternly at him. Wait, what did he say? Realization washed over his face & he only now noticed how wrong his words sounded without any given context.
“No, wait…That came out wrong.” closing his eyes briefly, he prepared an explanation for his confused co-workers. “(Y/N) drove me home yesterday & she helped me with my restraints & all. She fell asleep & I didn’t wanna wake her up.” Malcolm’s hands gestured wildly, not wanting to give them the wrong impression of last night’s events. JT pretended to understand what he explained even though he had no idea & frankly, he did not care too much. Malcolm had lost Dani’s interest a while ago, she continued working on the next case. Only Gil was left. He gave Malcolm a knowing look, went over to him & patted him on the shoulder.
“You better take care of her, Bright. Or you have to deal with me.” his threatening smile creeped Malcolm out but he knew Gil was only trying to keep you safe. Maybe you were the right one for him. Last night was proof enough. It was scary to take that next step but on the other hand, he wanted to take that risk. He wanted to give it a try. For the both of you.
Published (04/20/2021) by Cathy
Tags: @octopus5555 (thanks for your support <3)
#malcolm bright x reader#malcolm bright#malcolm whitly#malcolm whitly x reader#prodigal son#prodigal son imagine#Prodigies#prodigal son x reader#reader insert#reader imagine#imagine#fanfic#fanfiction#jason manns#Song Fic#one shot#oneshot#writing#writers#tom payne#gil arroyo#lou diamond phillips#dani powell#aurora perrineau#brightwell#jt tarmel#frank harts
173 notes
·
View notes
Text
3 birds 1 stone - RED
Never has he smiled for so many days, happiness without condition, love so pure, a life that no longer was filled of days he’d have to survive, and was now a life he wanted remember, love, and live.
WORDS: 7791
WARNINGS: Sexual Content, Mentions of Trauma
MASTERLIST | 3 BIRDS 1 STONE MASTERLIST | BLUE | YELLOW
-----
“I loved her against reason, against promise, against peace, against hope, against happiness, against all discouragement that could be.”
- Great Expectations, Charles Dickens
You:
“Y/N?”
On peaceful days should there be chaos to be expected. With peace does not come promise. A flower with blooming red petals would eventually wilt, despite all else telling it not to. That same blooming flower would die the same from other natural, unnatural causes, like a wind too strong for it to hold onto its stem or a butterfly that came too late for its pollen.
But when peace was current, something you could see right before you knowing it wasn’t to last, it wasn’t much because of the artist you were why you’d resort to capturing that peace onto your canvas and make it last forever.
Two artists, that was. Someone joined you in your endeavor that day. Not so much of a student as he were a companion. An equal, perhaps.
Damian didn’t let his squinting eyes from where he placed the tiniest round brush on, the fabric that turned blue at his touch. You merely hummed at his call of your name and didn’t look to him as well.
“May I ask you a question?”
“Sure.”
Two easels set up at the manor’s back porch angled just right for most of the city skyline to be seen. It was far too small to be the focus, but everything else, the valleys that surrounded it, the actual forests going against the concrete ones, if you managed to get it right, you might want to keep this one for yourself.
Your thoughts complete left all that matter, however, when Damian asked you, “It’s a question about sex. More than one actually.”
“Oh.”
Not what you thought.
You might have had a lymph node in your neck, but still you nodded.
“Alright then. What do you want to know?”
He was painting the clouds. Didn’t even look the slightest bit uncomfortable. Good, you guessed.
“How old am I supposed to be before having it?”
Some wordless mutter rolled out your tongue at that. Eventually, the answer just came right out of you.
“Other than being of age, it really depends if you’re emotionally ready for it, Damian. If you know you’re not ready, nothing should push you to do it.”
“How do I know when I’m ready?”
That same calmness, the one that steadied your often shaking hands, allowed you to create the perfect cone for one of the hilltops at the horizon. You marveled over it for a while.
“When your doubts are encompassed with everything else,” you said. “When you know about what comes after.”
A dimming yellow sun, over at the far end. It was that sun, you told yourself, that was making those words fall of your lips. And not at all this series of resurfacing memories.
“When you meet the right person,” you told him.
You saw from your side eye how that remark made Damian stop with his brush. He set it onto its holder, placed his hands on his knees. “Other people don’t wait for that last one,” he said. “Do they?”
“It’s always different for a lot of people. Sometimes, they could only ever do it with people they love. Sometimes, it doesn’t even matter.”
“When I have sex with someo-“
You gave him a dirty look.
“When I’m a lot older,” he scoffed. “And I want to engage in the act of coitus.”
“Coitus?”
“How do I know they’re right? They’re the right person at that moment, then suddenly the next, they’re not.”
You reached over his easel to grab his brush, handing it back as you pointed at a raven that landed on one of the trees. It urged him to continue.
“You ask yourself then. If things won’t go the way you’d have wanted with that someone, would you regret ever doing it with them at all?”
“Obviously,” he snorted. “I wouldn’t want to waste my time.”
A bright smile, just as you settled the green of the wilting grass. Not so much was it green as it were this brownish orange, with it still cold enough for you to wear a sweater this uncomfortable when you’d have wanted your hands free.
“Is it really this…” he did some kind of motion with his hands. “…milestone in your life that’s supposed to be so important?”
“Wow, you’re really asking the right questions here, kid.”
That nickname made him snarl, back to his canvas. It took you a while, having to look to the sky for some kind of answer that wasn’t going to mess his head for the rest of his life.
“I used to think it wasn’t,” you said. “Sometimes, it’s only as important as you make it. It’s all up to what you believe.”
You turned your brush over just the right circle, which made of the red petals of a rose on one of the bushes that first greeted the day after months of a long winter.
Then there was this sinking. Something within.
“But your first time, at least. It should be with someone you love,” you said. “You’ll find that a lot of things will be easier for you.”
He seemed satisfied with that. Thankfully. He didn’t look so traumatized just yet.
Then he asked you one that no longer was so easy to think about.
“Was your first time with someone you loved?”
And you thought, with how everything suddenly weighed, not just your head or your hands but the whirring air, the leaves that danced along to it, the flowers still so young into their bloom, the misty clouds, the light, the brush on your hand and the paint on its tip.
What wasn’t so heavy, that is, was your voice.
Because if anything surprised you that day, more than the questions and the apparent peace, was how easily the answer came out of you.
Easy, because it was true.
And it was true, because when you lied, your clammy hands would be stuck to your back, shaking just as much as your eyes would be frantic and searching for something that wasn’t there.
But your voice was as light as your hands were calm and dry, your eyes fixated on the beautiful sight of the city and nothing else.
“Yes,” you said. And with it, came a smile that lasted for days.
.
Jason:
Two thousand dollars sounded a lot more inviting after a failed drug raid, not so much after the seeing all the evening gowns and diamonds and Bruce using his almighty charm with investors in sharp-needled stilettoes.
He did not, for his own sanity’s sake, want to sit through any of it, not even for a whole inheritance from the enterprise. Nope. Not even ten million dollars was worth putting on this god-awful suit poking through his neck like a knife, a jacket supposed to fit but had popped off one of the buttons, and of course, his hair. Swept back. Ruled over by mounds of gel and whatever it was the rest of his brothers had on. They all looked like elves in a Christmas workshop assembly line with the red tie over his chest.
Whatever trouble would happen, they’d call him. Now that they’ve blocked off his room, however, he came to not much resort.
The manor’s pool, to his luck, was unguarded. Unused for the last few months, but still clean.
Whatever silence was, and whatever silence could be, it was just that when he shut the door behind him, not bothering to latch on the lock, and turned on one of the lights, the purple and blue ones that shone from underneath the pool’s floor, like some magical lake that would speak to him in rhymes, maybe hand him a sword floating on a lily pad, but not even that was enough to impress him. As if anything impresses him still.
He stood by the poolside, hands in his suit pockets. Audibly he cursed that he forgot to bring a cigarette pack, but even that thought didn’t last long enough to bother him too much.
Jason stood there, right by the water, and watched the lights change like they told much of a story.
Something. Anything, to intrigue him.
Anything to make him feel again, to interest him, to cry out to him and actually hold his attention long enough for it to not be whisked away from his mind by his own hands because thinking or feeling was too much work.
But even those very lights, that didn’t seem so bright at all, were silent. The same silence for so many months.
He wanted noise. He wanted to hear again. But nothing, nothing was loud enough for him anymore. Someone could be screaming into his head and so much of it would disperse before it even reaches his ears at all, much less his brain. It wasn’t that he was being dumb, though that would be quite the reason.
But it was that nothing was bright enough anymore.
No one was attractive, or intriguing, or entertaining. Not by a mile.
Nothing. He cared about nothing.
Everything, all except her.
And it had to be just that, no room so bright, no smile so true, then when it was with her.
He hated the truth, perhaps just as much as he hated the rest of the world. The only thing he didn’t hate was someone he couldn’t even be with, much less love. But here he was.
Some noise from the door he came in from. He should have locked it. Now someone else was here.
More so did he wish that when he turned and saw who it was.
“Here?” Y/N’s shoes against the empty ground. That, he heard. Fuck him. “Really?”
“They closed off my room.”
She looked really pretty, lipstick on her already red lips, jumpsuit dragging along the tiles and her hair down her back. And she didn’t stop walking until she was right by his side, much to his dismay. Still, he didn’t move. Though god forbid he allow himself another look after the first one.
“You’re just gonna stand here and stare at the water?”
“Better than that shitshow outside.”
“Every party’s a shitshow for you.”
“Finally, one of you caught on.” He shifted his arms as if he had a drink he was holding, which he didn’t. He needed one badly.
“Then why accept the job?” she shrugged. “You could have just said no.”
He didn’t expect her to look at the water like it were at all interesting.
But suddenly, the lights from underneath didn’t seem so dull anymore.
Because even having to swim through the lavas of literal hell, I’d leave the comforts of isolation if it means you’d be anywhere within the room.
“Two thousand dollars,” he said.
“Ah.”
Everything did get easier to understand, once he stopped with the moping and the denial and actually allowed that stupid little voice he hated to speak up loud enough so he’d listen to it.
“Maybe you’re right,” she laughed. “The water actually is a lot more interesting.”
Right then, he allowed himself a second, subtle look. At her face. The thin straps over her shoulders that laid so well against her skin. Her hair she’d purposely made unruly but still styled enough to be classy.
The next thing to notice were her hands. They weren’t shaking, though they weren’t unmoving either. Her thumbs were rubbing over the backs of her palms, much like fidgeting her fingers would as if she were nervous. But there shouldn’t be anything to be nervous about. Nothing he could see, at that.
But after a look at her hands, it was her eyes that told him the whole story of her trailing thoughts, thoughts that maybe she didn’t know about as well.
Three years since she’s last stepped into a pool, since she’s felt that much water around her, dance along every bit of her skin when she’d push through the waves and move about as if she were floating, or flying, suspended from the ground and not have a string to hold her up.
She wanted to. He could see that. But it was doubtful that she’d admit to that. She’d never admit to that, not when it would only cause so much disappointment when she’ll ultimately cower away.
But her wanting to swim made him want to swim.
Some first step. To have someone to help her. He could be that someone.
Not even thinking for himself anymore. Jason was off to the benches at the side, and had taken off his tie and slid it off his neck.
“What are you doing?” she asked, just as he took off his suit jacket.
“I’m going in.”
She looked at him like she would to a troll that had climbed out of the sewers, though it wasn’t much out of disgust as it would be of disbelief. At least, he hoped it was. That wasn’t even to matter. He’d taken off his dress shirt before he even realized what he was doing at all.
Not something he’d do so suddenly, but then again, some of the most stupid things he’s ever done the past year were all for her sake. This didn’t surprise him at the least, not even the fact that the more rational part of him was watching him move like some hamster in a wheel stupidly trying to run away.
“You’re gonna swim?”
He unbuckled his belt. “Mind turning around?”
Her eyes flashed wide open, and she did as told.
Jason took off his pants, his shoes, everything save for his boxers. This wasn’t so stupid. It shouldn’t be.
He stepped into the pool, one foot first, then he slid in. He wanted to feel the cold. He wanted it to go against his heat and make him feel something and actually overwhelm him. And it was just that, that very feeling he’d long craved, when he spread his arms and let the water seep into his flesh.
Then he found himself smiling, just as he looked up and caught Y/N watching him do all that, lips between her teeth and beaming back so wonderfully bright, every part of him ached for that sight to last so much longer.
He sat back, waved through the water, inviting her even when he wasn’t asking her, telling her that this is all okay, that she was ready.
A million voices were screaming at him that none of this added up to just about every thought he could muster, that it wasn’t in him to just jump into the water, half naked and alone with the woman he loved. So many asking him what the hell he was doing, that all this was going to scare her away.
But it was, in fact, in him to know what went on in her head, as she longingly looked at the pool like it were so much more than that. It was in him to know that there’s so many more steps in this staircase of healing, to being that very person she’d sought out to be, away from the incident, who she no longer was, and never has been.
Jason swam over to the side of the pool, at the side where she stood.
And with that, a smile so beautiful, she crouched over and set her legs to the side so she could sit on the ground. Her hand was too near from where he laid his arms, but he didn’t reach for it. He just watched as the droplets that fell from his skin onto the ground nipped at her fingers.
“Is it cold?”
His voice was low and husky. “Yeah…”
“Is it nice?”
Jason looked to the wall behind her and laughed. “The water’s great.”
She hummed.
Her hands. Something about them. He couldn’t look away. Like they were so much more than her soft fingers and her gentle touch. With his chin buried onto his folded arms, he kept looking.
Not from her hands that were reluctantly reaching for the water’s surface, shy, bashful even, like it would sting her if she inched too close. Y/N stretched out her fingers and touched it, enough to drench just the tip of it, then she twirled it about to create wonderful ripples that waved to his body.
Jason reached over to hold her wrist, stopped just in case she were to pull away, but she didn’t pull away.
Y/N’s eyes were on him, just as silent and curious, and he felt her relax.
He led her hand further into the water, deeper, colder. He felt the hair on her skin stand, bumps over her pores. She was breathless, over something so small. He pulled gently enough until the water reached up to her elbow.
Then the smile he earned out of her, the love he so wanted to earn as well, it was all he could see, with her toying with the water and swerving it about. Right then, he could hear everything. The droplets that danced, the splashes against their skin, her subtle laughter, her teeth over her lips. He heard it all, and it was beautiful, so much more than songs or tunes played by the most skilled hands over piano keys.
If he could just let himself watch her, for longer than he hoped, he’d fall deeper in love than the depths he’d already fallen into, and had tried, relentlessly, to escape from, but couldn’t. Denial didn’t help much, but neither did admittance. He was stuck. And if only things weren’t so hard, he wouldn’t dare complain. Not when that very woman he loved was this beautiful.
She drew her hand away, her other one soothing the damp skin and ruining her jumpsuit with the water, which she didn’t even care about.
He wasn’t even thinking anymore. His heart open and his mind shut off. From how she sat, her ankle was exposed, and it was close enough to the water to feel the splatters but not enough to get wet.
Still, without a word, Jason cupped his hand, drew a bit of water up to the surface.
Then he played those drops right onto her skin, close to her feet where her shoes were strapped around. She clenched her toes at the cold, but she seemed to have liked it. He did it again, the droplets falling from his fingers, until her skin was stiff from the air so cold with it drenched.
That’s when she sighed, went on to stare at the little waves he’d created.
“I want to go in.”
He backed away from the pool side, waved his arms about to show her further that it was safe, and wonderful. Then he nodded at her. “If you think you’re ready…”
He saw her throat hitch, but it wasn’t out of doubt.
“I’m ready.”
He didn’t even have to try so hard to show her that everything she was going through, right then, he knew every second of what it was like. His face was soft, his look on her was soft, every bit of him had to be soft for this to be easy on her.
Then things weren’t so soft anymore when she started pulling down her straps from her shoulders. He gulped.
“Could you uh,” she twirled her finger around, motioning that he turn the other way. He did.
It was, both to his fortune and of not, that the wall in front of him was a mirror, reflecting all that went on behind his back. Everything in him stopped, even the blood down his every vein, and with that he watched as she exposed her temple of a body, one he’d worshipped and cherished and made feel every ounce of a sensation there could be, and continue to dream about even with her no longer being there.
But she was here now.
.
You:
The hardest to take off weren’t the straps on your shoes.
But all you ever had to know, was that the one you were with, the one you were hopelessly in love with, was there to help you through all of this.
“Do you, uh,” Jason coughed. “Need some help with that?”
You knew he was watching. If you actually didn’t want him to watch, you would have gone to the other side of the pool and took off your clothes where there wasn’t a mirror in front.
“Yeah,” you said.
As his eyes laid on you, relaxed, calm, just as you remembered he once watched your body so bare, with just a strapless bra over your chest and seamless panties, what contrasted the very cold that stemmed from the water was the burn underneath your flesh, the burn in your chest, the burn on your face and every nerve ending there was. Every nerve ending.
Suddenly you were limbless when he swam over to you, right in front from where you sat at the poolside, and his fingers were on the skin of your thighs, both of them. The water from his skin, falling and absorbing into your own. A sensation in itself.
You unlatched your leg, and he pulled it off and set it to your side.
Now, you were bare.
Jason was looking up at your eyes, however, and not at anything else. Not at the parts so incomplete. Not on places so ugly. As if you were so beautiful. And from that look alone, you started to believe that you were.
One at a time.
With his hands held out, you let him take your right leg, the one covered in burns and healed stitches, but still with toes and skin at all, and carefully, laid it into the water.
It was cold. Colder than even ice. But god, was it so heavenly.
Now, the other.
Jason, from what you could tell, tried not to look nervous just as you were, but you both smiled, and that was all there is to it to make you step into that very threshold once so frightening.
Your left leg, ending just three inches below your knee, dipped into the water’s surface.
You were here.
You were free.
You could feel the cold, the water, the waves, and the rush up to your head.
“Take your time,” Jason breathed, and his voice was all the more wonderful with everything else you could feel.
Any more, and the tears might start to defy your efforts.
He was as gentle as you knew him to be, and with that, it urged you on. You wanted to be the freest version of yourself. You wanted to be in the water with him, and hold him.
“Jason-“
“I’m here.”
You slid off the poolside, and he was there to hold you up before you could even think to move. His warm hands were so different from how cold the water was, but as equally burning as the heat that spurred everywhere else. They held your waist, and you did not want them to move away at all.
“It’s okay,” he said, with his grip still strong. “I’ll let go only if you tell me to.”
So you didn’t tell him to.
Your hands, already they found their ways resting on top of his shoulders, holding onto him a lot firmer than you actually needed to. Your right leg touched the floor. Your left one waved about in the water. You looked down. They were there. They were alright. They didn’t sting, nor hurt, nor did you feel so exposed that you’d never want to step into any light again.
“You alright?”
“Yeah,” you frantically nodded, still looking down at the prettiest lights that shone beneath you and Jason’s feet.
You were laughing. “This is so great…”
“It is…”
With you so distracted marveling over the water, he thought you wouldn’t notice if his hands rubbed over your waist, circled them tighter, enough for his fingers to rest delicately on your spine. He was holding you so tenderly, yet you could feel how much he was holding back. And you just went on pretending not to notice.
“I want to go there.”
You pointed at the middle of the pool, where the lights were centered on, littered about to form this spiral that stretched out like a firework that burst into the sky.
“Alright,” said Jason. “Hold on, okay?”
You nodded, and again that wonderful sensory outburst that were supposed to overwhelm you, but didn’t, when Jason led you both to the center of the pool, the waves flowing against your flesh and skin. Oh, was it so beautiful. The water, touching your every bit, it was so much more than you remembered, and so much better than you’d have imagined.
As you reached that very center, and with you having to take in both the feel of this flight, the breath that had escaped you, the lights, ones you had to watch from afar, were now beneath and around you, like you stood right in the core of a star that exploded, a supernova, right at the flares and the burst of light and sound, just as it was on your flesh.
You were swimming on stars, on clouds, on a bed of petals so sweet. You were afloat in this wonderous space, the sun so close but not burning you with its light. There were tears. Wonderous tears. Ones you couldn’t hold back with your heart in full and your chest in this tug that pulled it in all directions. You splayed your arms out, and tilted your head back, enough for your hair to be dipped into the water. And you closed your eyes. Everything. Everything. This was everything.
You looked back up, and no one, not even the moon itself in the midst of a dark sky, had ever looked at you the way Jason did.
Oh god, how you loved him.
Then that music, one that was playing so sweetly the moment you stepped in, it blurred out when you circled your arms around his strong neck.
He kept with his promise and went on to keep holding you so close, closer, until your chest met his so solid, all the cold from the once freezing water was whisked away.
Fingers tangled onto his hair, breaths battling as they met in the space in between, a space that shouldn’t have been there at all. His own hands trailed down to your hips, further down until it made you jolt.
Then your legs were around him. You were flying, so high up in the sky not even the clouds would reach you.
He pushed back your hair.
You didn’t know at what point your lips had met, your warmth uniting into one, single flame, but everything was so much of the speed of a moving picture, that none of time, nothing of the sort that wasn’t him and him alone, ever even mattered anymore.
.
Jason:
What was it called, when something unfolded before you, and everything happened so fast even when you’d try to make it slow, flashed into this bright, white light, and suddenly you couldn’t move, nor say anything to protest?
That wasn’t even much to think about anymore.
Everything was paced, so slow, slow enough that he could feel every movement she made, every flick of her fingers, every sound that escaped her lips. It heightened to so much more than it actually was. Those months, where he no longer felt even just a splinter, now all those feelings collapsed into the now.
He was kissing the world, his world, and so much of her beauty manifested into this glorious flow. He was hungry, digging into her skin as if there were more to be undone. His lips were no different. Over her lips, her jaw, her neck, licking over her shoulder and back over to her lips where she tasted the sweetest.
She did not hold back either, and he didn’t want her to. She pulled on his hair enough to make it hurt and so perfect was that pain, the growl that came out of him so animalistic, even more so did he starve. Starve for her. He wanted to taste every bit of her.
And so he did, pushing her to the edge of the pool and turning her around so no longer could anything restrict his shaking touch, on every part of her that would spark a fire engulf larger than the one within his chest. He pushed himself inside her, over and over until it hurt.
He couldn’t hold back, couldn’t hide behind this mask of gentleness any longer. For that same gentleness and touches so soft, only could be when his efforts to conceal what his desires truly manifested into, and it comes with deep want, so much lust, fire that burns, skin being drawn in red by the hungriest nails and teeth that dug into flesh. His hips started to hurt, so did his hands. It was starting to hurt her, too, with there being marks on just about every sweet spot there was. But it was just those marks that pushed them both further into fulfillment.
His name, Jason, the most beautiful thing to ever escape her lips, his hands holding her still, holding her neck and squeezing just enough to let her know that only he could ever give her that perfect mix of pain and gratification so immense, that only he could touch her and make it last, and for the whole of the night, his name was the only thing she could ever cry out.
.
You:
Oh.
Oh, was it all so wonderful.
The strain, the pull of every muscle, the purple marks on your neck, the bruises on your hips, the aches down your cunt, and every bit inside you, still with the many releases, bursts of avalanches and numbs that faltered into lingering buzzes, and eventually this humming that continued like some song you couldn’t remember. Wonderful. Magical. Even if you could think straight, which you couldn’t do much with what happened, you couldn’t describe it with enough justice.
You’ve never slept so well in so long, your head up far beyond the clouds, into space and the stars above, the gas giants that make you even lighter. With not even gravity to pull you down, you were soaring up above.
In some idealistic perfection, a world without the cruelties you knew all too well, it would be that you’d wake up, satisfied at that, to a bed that wasn’t empty, next to a man you loved whose body was filled with the deepest scars, and that would have been the end to the story and all else, the chaos most especially, would cease.
But as it were as cruel as it were kind enough to grant you that moment of bliss, you woke up, still with the sky so dark, and your arm outstretched for a naked body no longer there, but instead you found that very body already with his clothes on, moving as quiet as he possibly could outside the bed.
“Jason?” you sighed, then you sat up holding the thin sheet up to your chest.
Jason was startled. Wasn’t expecting to wake you. Or that, he was trying not to.
“Why are you up?” he asked. He was in a hurry.
And his face, from what you could read, it told you everything you needed to know.
“Are you leaving?”
Again? You wanted to say.
But even if you did, his response wouldn’t have changed. For the better, that is. Because he didn’t have much a response at all.
“Go back to bed.”
“What’s going on-“
“I’m sorry.”
He zipped up his pants, put on his jacket and just like that he was headed for the door.
His face was too grim and blank for him to leave with intention to come back. His hands were too fast reaching for the door. His voice, too low as if he were hiding something from eventually spilling. No. He was leaving. And he wouldn’t want to be found. Not after that look he just gave you before he opened the door.
You took all the sheets and reached for his shoulder. Already, you were shattered. Already, the weight had befallen, on your arms and your chest. He was so stiff that even to just turn, it was hard for him to do.
But you held his face, really held him so he wouldn’t dare pull away. The air had been sucked out of that very room and so much of your body would have broken apart, fallen to the ground and no one would be there to pick them up.
“You don’t have to leave,” you whispered, pushing your forehead against his so your breaths would meet again. “Please, be with me-“
“Y/N -“
“What did I do?” You met his eyes.
“Nothing. Please. We’ll talk about this later-“
“When?”
He sounded so solid, so unaccepting of anything to be hurled at him.
“I have to go-“
“You’re not coming back, are you?“
“I said we’ll talk about this.”
“Don’t walk away from me-“
He didn’t even let you finish.
He was strong, and he never used that against you. But that time, he did. He grabbed you by the wrists and pulled you off him. In less time than you would have hoped, he was gone.
The man you wanted. The one you loved. The one you chose.
Wouldn’t choose you.
Another of the hurt, that descent, when you’ve slipped into this hole so familiar yet the pain wasn’t something to get used to. Tears on the sheets, broken, so many of them spilling out of you and onto the floor, your skin, the bed.
You can’t shatter again. You can’t break any more.
This was the choice you made. No one told you it was all going to be easy. That all this would be handed over just as you called the moment you wanted it. No. Not with him.
Go after him.
Tell him everything.
Go after him.
You grabbed everything you got, put on your clothes and rushed out that door before you were even fully awake enough for your eyes to adjust to the light. Straight down the stairs, out into the garage where you knew Jason parked his bike. He wasn’t there. He already left.
So you took one of the keys that were hung on the wall, started up one of Bruce’s many cars and drove out of that manor.
You weren’t going to let go. You’d chase him if you had to.
You knew this would happen, the moment you realized you loved this asshole. You saw this coming. And you were prepared.
You were as fast as if you flew, if you were no heavier than a speck, a particle that would let even the flap of a butterfly’s wings change its course and move so fast, no one would have seen it.
You called him. As you drove and reached the city, you did not stop calling. Five. Six. Ten times. He didn’t answer.
Once you reached his apartment, seeing that his bike wasn’t where he’d parked it, you called again.
At the fifteenth call, he picked up.
“Jason, for the love of god-“
Your hands were shaking as it held the wheel, and nothing, not even the rain pattering onto the windshield would have calmed you. Everything happened just as fast as the rest of the night went on. And here you were, at the end, and you tripped just as you saw that very end of the dark tunnel.
“Y/N…” he said. And his voice a lot softer than it had been just then.
“Please, just talk to me.”
“We’ll talk. I promise you, we will-“
“I want to talk to you now-“
“You think you know what you want,” he said. “But you don’t. Give it time. You’ll change your mind.”
You slammed your fists against the wheel and the horn blew under the impact.
“You said you’d never make decisions for me-“
“If this is your decision, you need me to make it for you.”
So close. So close to driving away and leave him for the rest of forever.
But it wasn’t close enough.
You turned to the screen right by the car’s dashboard, pressed onto the button to turn on Bruce’s many trackers. There was a red dot.
‘No,’ you whispered. ‘No, you won’t.’
.
Jason:
“I’m sorry…” he pleaded. “I’m so sorry… but I promise you. Everything will get better.”
Up a rooftop, where he thought she’d never find him. It was hard to ignore the quake in his voice, his hands, how every word he spoke was like driving a knife down his throat, neck, and chest.
“No,” she screamed, and her cries hurt more than that very knife ever would. “It won’t. You’re a coward. What are you gonna do? Leave for another four months?”
“That’s not true.”
“Tell me it is!”
“Y/N.”
He let the skyline distract him, the buildings that soared up, higher than he could ever stand, then locked his eyes onto one of them so they wouldn’t defy him and break apart.
“Whatever it is you think is going on, it isn’t. I already told you how I felt. Why didn’t you just lis-“
Of course, she’d find him.
To be frank, even if it were one of the other safe houses he’s picked that wasn’t on any map of the city, she was bound to find him. He left her at Wayne Manor, for fuck’s sake.
The minute he heard her footsteps, coming in from entryway, he stopped talking, breathing even, and put his phone down. Trackers. Of course. Bruce had five of them on him at least.
He turned around.
“You actually fucking followed me-“
“Why?”
She wore the same thing from that night, the same suit he’d lustfully watched her take off, straps down those very shoulders, baring herself. Her hair, up in this beautiful mess, makeup no longer there and her face beautifully bare. Still a sight, she was, a sight he no longer wanted to get lost in.
“Why is this so hard for you-“
“Because it doesn’t make sense.”
“Why not?“
“Because, I-“
Every word out of him, a fire that couldn’t be put out. Flames uncontrollable, and his breath nothing but encouraging winds.
“Because you’re gonna wake up one day and realize I’m not any of my brothers… I was the one who never stood a chance,” he said. “No one would think you’d want me, out of the many other things you could have had. One day, you’re gonna realize that I’m not what you wanted-“
“I love you-“
God, it was everything he ever wanted to hear.
“You had Dick and Tim. They’ve loved you for so long… And you’re actually choosing the one guy who doesn’t?“
“You’re lying.”
“Am I?”
Another step forward from her. Another step back from him. He can’t stand too close or all this would be as close to the world’s slowest, most painful death.
“Nothing could have pointed you to me. Everything was telling you to-“
“For fuck’s sake, stop listening to everything else and just listen to me.”
A struggle at that.
But he’s never been so cold.
It wasn’t even from the wind from such a height, if there were any at all. But he was shivering, his teeth were gritting. Everything he said, he didn’t even mean. And all the more was it excruciating to hear himself say it all.
But he could listen. Even if it’d hurt. He’ll listen.
She was crying. To just reach over and hold her hand. He couldn’t even do that.
“Three years ago,” she whispered into the cold night air. “I was at the manor. Two weeks out of the hospital. I was just learning how to walk again but that day was hard on me. I couldn’t make a step. I was on my bed, and I was just staring at the ceiling because I couldn’t get out of it.”
It pained him all the more, when he knew nothing of what was to come to him, that all this was going to catch him before he’d even realize what it was.
“You never visit me at the manor but that day, you were there. I don’t even remember what for, but you stopped by and you caught me reading A Christmas Carol because it was the one book in my room that I actually liked. Because I couldn’t go down to the library and get more, and I didn’t want to ask from anyone.
“We ended up talking about Dickens. I didn’t know shit, but I remember you talking about him like he was your uncle and I just listened to you. I told you I liked reading his books. You said you’d bring me more when you’d come back. Three days later, you did. You got me Great Expectations.”
Great Expectations.
Why can’t he remember this?
“You left, and I read it that same night. That’s when I found a quote that you highlighted.”
Jason took a step back, away from her.
“I loved her against reason, against promise, against peace, against hope, against happiness, against all discouragement that could be.”
Everything. Everything that devastated, all suddenly came to place.
“The book was new. Store bought. The tag was still there. You bought it for me a day after you visited. Then you read it yourself and highlighted that quote.”
“How did you-“
“Remember that?”
She ignored the streaks down her skin, the droplets that fell down her neck.
“It was just a quote,” she shrugged. “It easily could have been nothing… but if I think of it differently now, it all makes so much sense.”
If he took another step back, he’d fall over the ledge.
He should have done that, now that she had walked close enough for him to get so lost into her face.
“If you loved me then,” you whispered. “Did you even know about it?”
This. This was worse than a fall.
He closed his eyes and everything fell through. The tears. The sobs. Everything. Because he did love her then. He’s always loved her since. But to admit it was close to writing his own death sentence.
This. This was death. And he’d happily jump back into that abyss.
“I didn’t want to believe it…”
.
You:
You reached for his face and for once, he welcomed it.
“If you tell me to leave right now,” you swallowed. “I’ll leave. I’ll never look for you again.”
Even if it hurts, even if I’ll have to live without you. If it’s what you want, I’ll let you go.
His hands found your wrists but it was to hold you, not to pry you away.
“Do you love me?”
It wasn’t in his words.
It was how he said yes that made you soar past the birds and the thin air from above.
It was when he finally took a step forward, to hold you in place, to keep you from falling apart and keep you so close, that acceptance of what truly went on, the love you’ve long known about and continued to believe in, even when he didn’t believe in it himself. It was there. It was what moved you. You could have fallen in from one of the many spaces above and still, you would end up in his arms.
“Of course, I do…“
Just as the sun rose, to greet you both into this morning anew. So new a life, waiting for you to come welcome it. And you welcomed it with the widest arms. He kissed you, so tender and real. Up where the city could see you, where you wanted to be seen, only to be with him.
.
Epilogue
Jason:
One box would have been enough for his clothes. He didn’t have much anyway. But as it turns out, leather jackets aren’t exactly as compact as he’d liked.
“Where do you want me to put these?!”
She was in the bathroom. He saw her peak her head out from the door to look at the jacket he was holding up.
“I set up a new closet for you!” she cried out, then she went back to brushing her teeth. “It’s beside mine!”
“Got it!”
He took the boxes of clothes, set it just outside the closet which he’ll definitely get into after he deals with everything else. Moving wasn’t something he liked doing, even when he’s moved around a single city so much before his lease would have allowed him to.
But, this new apartment, her apartment, covered in paint and canvases and rags all over the place that nipped at his neat freakiness he’d soon have to overcome, he might actually stick around.
“What about this!?”
He held up his box of books.
“I emptied a shelf for you, too! It’s next to my sketchbooks.”
“Sketchbooks, sketchbooks…”
Her sketchbooks were all over the fucking place.
He found that shelf, at least. Just enough for all his books. That is, if the paint cans above wouldn’t collapse.
“Do you clean up even just a little?”
“Shut up. It’s organized mess.”
“It’s always organized mess with you artists…”
“What?!”
“Nothing!”
She stepped out the bathroom, in nothing more than just a thin shirt and pajama shorts, then she watched him fumble with the last of his boxes.
“And, uh,” he coughed. “Can I put these somewhere?”
The look on her face, playfully annoyed as it was pleasantly unsurprised, she wanted to laugh that he’d resorted to storing his whole arsenal of weapons in a single cardboard box.
“That floorboard over there,” she pointed. “I loosened it up for you.”
“You’re a doll, pretty bird.” Jason put the box on the floor, ran up to her and grabbed her by her thighs, hoisting her whole thrashing body up his shoulder.
Her screams turned to laughter, then he spun her around, slammed her into her own bed like it was a wrestling ring and held her down with a headlock.
Everything he’s ever thought how this would have ended wasn’t so much of a fraction of how it went. Never has he smiled for so many days, happiness without condition, love so pure, a life that no longer was filled of days he’d have to survive, and was now a life he wanted remember, love, and live.
This was how it ended.
And he never wanted it to end.
-----
MASTERLIST | 3 BIRDS 1 STONE MASTERLIST | BLUE | YELLOW
-----
MAIN TAGLIST:
@idkmanicantenglish, @wunderstell, @birdy-bat-writes, @multifandomgirl-us, @icequeen208, @offendedfishnoises, @arkhamtoddler, @elsenthal, @lucy-roo, @loxbbg, @reclusive-chicken-nugget, @l-inkage, @http-cherries, @river9noble, @zphilophobiaz, @annoylinglyaries, @knightfall05x, @hyp-oh-critical, @satan-s-ass, @1-800-starmora, @flowersgirl02, @nahcho, @thatonecroc, @trixie-bb, @daddyissuesmademe, jasonsbitch, @shadowsndaisies @jaybirdbooty @writing2sirvive
SERIES TAGLIST:
@spaceservicestation, @thedeadlythoughts, @vanessafabricius, @pinkforest05
#Jason todd#jason todd x reader#jason todd smut#dick grayson#dick grayson x reader#tim drake#tim drake x reader#batboys#batfam#batfamily#batboys x reader#bruce wayne#stephanie brown#barbara gordon#damian wayne#duke thomas#cassandra cain#batman#robin#3 birds 1 stone#3 birds 1 stone series#batarella#batarella series
277 notes
·
View notes
Text
Hope on Board
Chapter 6 – Everything Happens in Its Own and Usually Most Inconvenient Possible Time
Chapter 1 Chapter 5
The gala was going better than anticipated. Despite feeling like she stuck out like weed in a field of flowers, things seemed to be going well. Marinette had talked with more people than she could remember and they all seemed to walk away happily and interested in her work except for a few pompous assholes who couldn’t keep their eyes off her growing chest. Admittedly, she was showing more cleavage than she anticipated, but she was blaming that on the baby that was enlarging her chest already.
Luckily, she had Adrien to watch out for her and keep them from doing anything more than just look. More importantly, Tim seemed impressed with her designs for the gala and could pick out the outfits that were hers. That was two big checks for the night. The rest of her life might be going to hell, but at least this night was going smoothly.
Whereas she felt like she was an imposter in the ranks, Adrien seemed to blend into the crowd seamlessly. Laughing sensibly at the right times, sharing knowing looks that confused Marinette with the other party goers, smiling politely at the right bad jokes. He led her to the right people to get to know and whispered in her ear the right things to say to them.
She watched Adrien flourish and felt a twinge of guilt. This was the product of his dad. She was benefitting from Gabriel’s abuse toward Adrien. She grabbed Adrien’s arm to get his attention and looked up at him with sad eyes. He gave her a soft smile and excused them politely from the conversation they were in. “It’s okay, Mari. I’m okay,” he assured her. He looked back out to the crowd.
“How about a fun one next?” he urged her.
Marinette gave him a halfhearted smile and nodded. If he could do this then so could she. He was doing this for her. She could hold up her end. She nodded and smiled politely at people as she passed. One woman lit up at her so Marinette stopped to talk to her, letting Adrien continue on without her. After a very amusing conversation with a breath of fresh air named Selina Kyle, Marinette searched for Adrien in the crowd. Luckily, he hadn’t wandered too far away. She caught his attention and he turned to her with a wide smile.
“And this is Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Marinette, this is Richard Grayson.”
Marinette looked over to the new man, still trying to keep all the names of people she had met already. There were too many names. There was no way she was going to remember this new person’s name. She looked in the new man’s eyes… familiar eyes and a familiar but strained smile. Why were those eyes familiar? “Fuck…” Marinette let out before she could stop herself.
Adrien froze. Richard froze. That name wasn’t right. That definitely wasn’t the name he had given her. Did he give her a fake name?
“Uh, hi.” Dick offered with a strained smile. “It’s nice to meet you. Dick Grayson.” He wasn’t sure what their relationship was, but if she was in a relationship with Adrien, he wasn’t going to intentionally destroy it despite the twinge in his heart. That would explain the hasty exit from his apartment though.
“He is Bruce Wayne’s son,” Adrien gently reminded her, “Tim’s brother.”
“Fuck!” Marinette groaned out louder. Tears were starting to appear in her eyes. This could not be happening. Not here. Not now. She was not prepared for this conversation. She was supposed to be networking for her job, for the partnership and her store. She did not have time for this! Why now. Why after all their searching and attempts to retrace her steps did it have to happen now?
He was Tim’s brother and Bruce Wayne’s son. One of, if not the richest man in the world and the current holder of her exclusive contract. Dick was going to hate her. He was going to think she trapped him into this. He was going to think she was a manipulative bitch who shouldn’t be allowed to raise children and take the baby away and never let her see it. She would only get to see him or her or them whenever Richard took them out in public. The baby was going to get a new mother and would call her ‘Maman’. And what if that new mom didn’t like having a stepchild? What if she didn’t love them like they deserved? What if they thought Marinette didn’t want them?
“Are you okay?” Adrien asked quietly.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Marinette exclaimed shaking her hands to release anxiety. She could no longer breathe and tears were starting to gather in the corner of her eyes.
“Mari?” Adrien looked between Marinette and Richard a few times before a realization set in. “Oh my God. He said his name was Dick. It’s him! It’s ladybug shirt guy!” He said with a smile. “We found him! I’m telling Chloe. She is going to die.”
“No!” Marinette jumped at him to grab his phone, attracting the attention of the people around them. But at this point, Marinette no longer cared. She had more important things to focus on.
“Well, I have more mingling to do and you,” he pushed Marinette toward Dick hard enough for her to stumble and Dick to reach out and steady her, “have some talking to do. Good luck. I won’t go too far. Let me know if you need me… for anything...” He looked at Marinette sincerely with his last statement before giving Dick a less friendly look. “… anything at all.”
Marinette looked up at Dick through her lashes. Her fear was radiating out of her and it made Dick want to wrap her up and hold her until she smiled. “How… how have you been?”
Marinette looked around them noticing now close everyone was and a few people who were leaning back expressly to eavesdrop. She eyed them warily and responded loudly enough for them to hear, “We haven’t caught up in a bit. Let’s go somewhere and talk where the music isn’t so loud.”
Dick followed her eyes and nodded, leading her out of the ballroom and into the closed section of the manor. He could feel the apprehension as she walked, making him nervous as well. He didn’t know what was about to happen but he could tell it was significant. He just didn’t know if it was good significant or bad significant.
“We should be good here. Nobody but family is allowed back here.” He looked around anxiously as if to confirm, but really it was just something for him to do, something to focus on besides her. “I was hoping to talk to you after… after that night but realized I didn’t get your number. I tried going back to the club to look for you, but...”
“It closed. Yeah… I tried going back to the club, too.” Dick brightened up at that. She had searched for him too. It wasn’t just him that wanted to try for something more. “I wanted to maybe just show up at your door, but I think I was still drunk when I left and…,” she scrunched up her face in uncertainty, “I saw all the weapons on the counter and when I heard you waking up in the bedroom, I just ran. I didn’t pay attention to where I was. And then I thought about the weapons and thought… maybe I shouldn’t.”
The realization hit Dick and he cursed under his breath. He was going to kill Jason. “My brother is paranoid, Jason not Tim, who you apparently know. Living in Gotham is bad enough but he… we get targeted a lot so he… those were his weapons, not mine. I swear. None of them were mine and they normally aren’t even there, I just wouldn’t let them take them to the club,” he rushed out to try to assure her.
Her eyes searched his. He held his breath praying she found what she was looking for, or not finding it, depending on the question she was trying to answer. Whichever answer let him talk to her again, he hoped she found it. After a few moments, she must have found some answer because she gave him a weak smile and nodded slightly. Dick let out the breath he had been holding. She didn’t seem entirely convinced, but Dick would take it. He could work with it if she gave him a chance. He nervously rubbed the back of his neck. Now he had a chance, what was he going to do with it? “So… how have you been?”
“Pregnant,” Marinette answered quickly, instantly regretting not saying it more sensitively, easing him into the realization. She had freaked out, it stood to reason that he would as well.
Dick’s eyes widened in shock and his breath shortened. He looked down to her belly and back up to her face. A look of panic was plastered on his face. He was not ready. How did it even happen? He thought they had used precautions. And he had provided the condom and put it on so it wasn’t as though she could have sabotaged anything. Holy shit! He was going to be a dad. How was he going to balance that? How was he going to be a dad and Nightwing? Shit! He couldn’t take care of himself. How was he supposed to take care of a child? He was pretty sure they ate more than cereal.
“I’m so sorry!” Marinette rushed out seeing his whole body going into shock. “I’m so very, very sorry! I swear I don’t expect anything. I don’t… I didn’t… This wasn’t on purpose. I swear! I wasn’t trying to get pregnant.” Tears were now freely falling down her cheeks and marring her dress. Thank God she had waterproof mascara but the water stains were still making their mark.
“How…”
She chuckled mirthlessly. “Did you know semen leaks out before the… end? Cuz’ I didn’t.” She wiped tears away as she spoke. “Or rather I did, I just didn’t think it was enough to do anything. But, if you’re truly lucky, that’s enough. So if you wait to put a condom on until just before… the end, you can still get pregnant.”
“And you… you’re sure…” He didn’t know how to ask the question tactfully.
She drew a sharp breath and looked down wiping away a few more tears. “Yeah. I… I broke up with my boyfriend a little under a year ago. There… um… there hasn’t been anyone else since then.”
He nodded dumbly. That was pretty conclusive. Unless there was a sudden case of immaculate conception going on, that was his baby. “Okay.”
She turned her eyes to him, her expression somber. “I didn’t… I don’t expect you to do anything, not participation, not child support, nothing. I just… I thought you deserved to know even if you don’t want to be involved and I understand if this is too much for you.”
Dick looked up at her in surprise. She was giving him an out. She wasn’t expecting him to be a dad and help take care of them. But for some reason, that realization only made his heart clench tighter. Did he want an out? Did he want to miss out on his child’s upbringing? All of their firsts? Their first step. Their first summersault. Their first word. Their first laugh. Their first breath.
He didn’t. He didn’t want to miss out on those things. He pulled himself out of his spiral to see Marinette starting to turn away to leave. He reached out and grabbed her hand before she could get too far away and pulled her into his chest, hugging her tightly. “I want to be involved. I want to be there. I want to help.” She froze for a few seconds before hugging him back just as strongly. Her crying increased in his arms and he held her through it. He wouldn’t let her go through any part of this alone, not anymore.
“I don’t know what you need, but I want to help provide it for you and… and our baby,” he said gently, pulling away just enough to wipe away her tears.
She nodded at him, turning her eyes up to match his. Dick felt his chest tighten. Her eyes were glassy with tears but still gorgeous and captivating. He moved the hand wiping the tears to cup her face. His thumb gently stroked her cheek. He leaned down toward her but her hand clasped over her lips before his lips could reach them, blocking his way. Her eyes bugged out and she ran to the trash can before throwing up.
“Oh my god,” she groaned, collapsed on the floor next to the trash can. “And morning sickness has officially begun. And it’s early. Just so much luck.” She looked up at him with an apologetic smile. “Sorry you had to see that.”
Dick chuckled lightly, “Well, I did want to be there for all the firsts. Come on,” he gently grabbed her hands to help her up, “let’s get you some water to rinse out your mouth and cleaned up a bit. If you want to stay, I’d love to escort you around. If you’d like to go home and rest, I’d love to take you home. If you want to go somewhere and talk, I’d love to take you wherever you want. But either way, can I get your phone number… and last name? I want to help figure things out with you. Maybe… if you’re interested… maybe go on a first date? If you want to try for a relationship…. I mean… I understand if you don’t want to risk…”
His stuttering cut off when she started giggling. He looked up to match her eyes, a look of hope finally finding their way back into them. “I would really like that, too. And it’s Dupain-Cheng. Marinette Dupain-Cheng. It’s nice to officially meet you, Dick Grayson.”
Chapter 7
Tags:
@dickinette-february @demonicbusiness @ichigorose @iloontjeboontje
#maribat#Dickinette February#dickinette#platonic jasonette#platonic adrienette#Hope on Board#Knocked Up AU#prompt - first
156 notes
·
View notes
Text
Y’all I totally forgot it was Wednesday, but I didn’t come empty handed! No answers, of course, just a peek back into dinner while Danny’s off committing Crimes 😏
————-
Jason really wished he could just focus on having a good time with his family. The food was, as always, exquisite, and Sam and Tucker were moaning happily along with the others.
It smelled great. It looked great. It tasted great, but something in the back of Jason’s head just wouldn’t switch off.
Not until Danny came back.
Even the thought that Danny might be in danger while he just ate dinner sat like a lead weight in his stomach.
The expanded aura… well. It kind of helped? Being practically choked by Danny’s presence, aware in every pore of his skin that Danny was there, was fine, wasn’t hurting, did help.
It just. Made it impossible to really think about anything else.
He was barely following the conversation, just reading the intricacies of Danny’s mood changes and losing track of sentences as people said them.
Finally, finally, Danny’s aura shifted again.
<<Done-got him-no big deal-coming back>>.
Jason almost sagged in his seat, shoulders unknotting marginally (they probably wouldn’t finish until he could see Danny and prove he was fine).
Sent <<impatient-relieved-happy-hurry back>> as well as he could, and nearly dropped his fork at the warm swell of <<affection> he received in return.
Well.
<<Affection-amused-teasing>>.
Clearing his throat, Jason did his best to will away the heat along the back of his neck. Nope, he wasn’t gonna blush when Danny wasn’t even here to look at him while smothering him in those feelings.
And it was definitely just the pit curling up into a little buzzing ball of happiness in his chest. Definitely not actually Jason melting like snow under a blow torch.
Whatever.
Danny was fine, he’d be back soon and Alfred had saved them both plates. And sure, maybe something in Jason wouldn’t unclench until he could see Danny in person, but letting Alfred’s cooking go cold was a sin.
He dug into his still steaming plate, forcing his shoulders to relax a little. Tucker and Tim were still talking about tech, currently disparaging what GIW thought were elite security measures.
Harley had lured Sam, Duke, and Cass into a discussion of her new place in Coney Island at the other end of the table, and yeah, Jason could get interested in that.
Someone might have already asked, but hey. He waited for a convenient pause and leaned in.
“Didn’t Croc move down there with you? He and Riddler attacked the gala last night,” he explained when Harley made a curious noise, head cocking to one side.
Her brow furrowed, so apparently the others hadn’t gotten this far yet. Not sure if he was glad or gonna tease them mercilessly later.
“He what? Yeah, he moved in, but he came back this way ta keep me company as I came up here. Someone’s tryin’ ta give me a hard time cuzza my criminal record, an’ they’re gettin’ intel from one of your local problems,” she added with a shrug, waving her hand.
Cuz yeah, that was also on the list; she’d been up with Ivy, neither of them noticeably causing trouble before apparently Ida Manson got them out of town.
Cass made a small noise of concern and Harley patted her hand, grinning.
“Oh, don’t you worry about me doll, it’s all under control. Thought it might be Pengy havin’ another go at my spot but he burst into tears when I walked in so it’s prob’ly not him,” she said with a very self satisfied smile.
Jason chuckled softly because… yeah, he could picture that. It tracked.
“Smart man,” Duke agreed with a snicker and Harley gave him a fist bump.
“Yeah, I’ll run ‘em down. But why was Waylon at the gala? He jus’ said he was gonna look inta some shit while I was gone,” Harley asked, looking around the table for an answer.
Jason shrugged.
“All their demands were for Harvey Dent. Apparently he was planning to make a run and they beat him to the punch,” he explained, in as much as he understood.
If no one else had a hand on Dent by tonight, he miiiight stretch one of his Red Hood patrols out of Crime Alley to go for a look see.
The man missed his party. The least Jason could do was pay a personal visit.
“Croc mentioned Jason,” Cass noted with a small frown, looking up at him with concern.
And, yeah, that was the other reason he was thinking of getting involved. He couldn’t imagine what the fuck he’d done as a civvie to annoy Dent.
Harley huffed, blowing blonde bangs off her face and lacing her fingers, pointing at Jason.
“Okay, so we gotta go talk to Waylon tomorrow and find out what’s goin’ on. He’s comin’ with me back to Coney when the time comes so he ain’t got time for Arkham,” she said firmly, and something settled in Jason’s gut.
Waylon had so badly wanted the Red Hood not to turn out like he had; another criminal permanently trapped in the system. Yeah, he’d like to return the favour.
Of course, not everyone in the room was up on all the secrets. Sam leaned forward, breaking her quiet streak that as far as Jason knew was her longest ever.
“Wait, you’re going to break that guy out of jail? He wanted to strap a bomb vest to Jason,” she said harshly, finally snapping Tim and Tucker out of their little happy world.
Jason raised both hands.
“He didn’t succeed.” Much as Danny had freaked out about it, Jason wasn’t gonna complain about things that hadn’t happened.
Too much like it actually happened every day, he’d never be done.
Oh. Maybe that was kinda why Danny had freaked out. That probably wasn’t good.
His personal revelation was dampened by Harley waving a hand easily.
“Nah nah nah, we’re not gonna break ‘im out tomorra. He’s gonna tell us what the fuck he was thinkin’, I’m gonna break Dent’s kneecaps, and Batsy’s gonna give a character statement an’ get ‘im released to me for community service.”
And if any of that didn’t work, they could still just break Croc out the next day. Jason knew the unspoken corollary.
Tucker’s eyebrows raised and he said the very stupidest thing that Jason had ever heard from a genius, and he’d seen Tim on 72 hours of no sleep.
“You know Batman?” He asked incredulously.
Harley stared at him for a long moment. Then snickered.
“Yeah, we know each other from work,” she said dryly, waving her fork, “we go way back.”
The assorted bats snickered to themselves and Tucker sunk back in his chair a little, grinning sheepishly around the table.
“Yeah… sorry.”
Sam rolled her eyes, arms folded as she frowned down the table. She clearly had a bigger question, which was probably fair for anyone who didn’t know the combined Harley-and-bats history.
“And you think Batman will do you a favour? He’s not exactly known to listen to reason,” she pointed out half sarcastically. Not that anyone in the room would argue.
There was a reason Jason loved her.
Harley weighed her up for a moment, then grinned, leaning forward.
“Y’know, kid, I don’t think we were introduced. There’s somethin’ real familiar about you,” she mused, folding her arms on the table and leaning over them, plate slowly nudged aside.
Sam smirked and shrugged. They were meeting a lot of new people these past couple days, but if she’d been doing the gala circuit her whole life?
Yeah, this probably wasn’t the worst. Harley was better than Jason had ever met at a party.
“Sam Manson. Friend of Jason’s through Danny,” she added with a nod to the empty seat still between her and Jason.
Harley beamed, hiking forward onto the table a little more.
“Oh, you’d be Ida’s granddaughter then?” She asked brightly, clearly pleased to have been right. “Your granny’s a real doll, sent me and Ivy on a real sweet vacation this week.”
Sam chuckled softly and nodded, giving Harley a half apologetic half cocky smile.
“Yeah, that’d be my fault. I’m not allowed to come to Gotham if there’s a chance Poison Ivy is in town,” she explained, fingers on her left hand tapping against her right arm.
Both of Harley’s brows went up.
“Oh? Are they scared somethin’ might happen to ya?” She asked, tone already very firmly suggesting she knew the answer.
So did most of the rest of the table, though Duke hadn’t actually heard the explanation last night. Not like he needed to, having met Sam for more than five minutes.
Sam didn’t disappoint. She gave another elegant half shrug, her smile turning fully dark.
“Oh, more the opposite. They think I’ll run off and join her if I see her,” she said innocently. Across the table, Tucker snorted most of a laugh.
A moment later Harley joined him, tossing her head back and laughing.
“Yeah, that sounds like Ida’s girl,” she agreed, wiping a dainty tear from her eye, “she was a real spitfire in her younger days, the stories she told Ivy when they were protestin’ together were wild.”
Sam was practically glowing with pride, and Jason had to admit that he would kinda like to meet her grandmother. He’d met her parents, and… well, maybe awesome skipped a generation.
Harley suddenly stopped, head cocking as she noticed something, a sly smile creeping across her face.
“So if they think you’ll run away with Ivy… whadda they think’ll happen if ya run into me?” She asked with a delicately studied innocence, examining her nails.
“Only good things,” Cass offered, grinning past Jason at Sam. Sam grinned back, giving Harley a shrug and a similarly innocent smile.
“Y’know, they’ve just never mentioned it. Clearly there’s no concerns there,” she agreed, and Jason snickered, raising his glass in a toast.
“None here,” he noted and Sam laughed, clinking her glass against his. Dick raised a hand, fighting a laugh.
“One concern for the integrity of Bruce’s skull?” He offered innocently, and laughed when Jason threw a napkin at him.
“If Bruce’s skull was gonna break it’d have done it years ago,” Steph opined as the voice of experience. Jason raised his glass to her too, but she was a little far to clink.
She grabbed hers up and raised it back anyway, and Sam filled the gap, clinking hers to Jason’s and then to Steph’s to pass it on.
“It’s good for him ta get his eggs scrambled,” Harley agreed from the other end of the table, raising her glass too, “and I’m gonna guess you did some percussive maintenance too that I’ll ask about later.”
“Bruce might still have a concussion,” Duke offered, not completely certain where he sat with this kind of joking, but the kid was new.
You had to watch Bruce try and kill himself going out on patrol with more bones broken than whole a couple times before you gave into his indestructibility.
Shit, maybe he should ask Danny if Bruce was liminal. For all the guy was technically a default human, Jason knew literal aliens with a better grasp on humanity.
And ghosts, now.
Harley gave him a nod anyway and patted his hand.
“I’ll aim low then sugar, don’t you fret. But to answer yer other question, Sam, Batman’s gonna get Waylon out for me cuz he doesn’t want ‘im in Arkham any more ‘n we do. Bats wants us all ta get better, and Waylon does best left alone,” she explained with a shrug.
“Until you leave him unsupervised and he teams up with Riddler?” Tim asked with a slight smile.
Jason shook his head, leaning forward on his arms too.
“He wouldn’t do it for no reason. He asked what I’d done to upset Two Face, but I can’t think of anything.” They didn’t even cross paths often.
Dent had taken Red Hood’s claim on Crime Alley as a given, learned quickly that Jason didn’t give a shit about playing nice, and minded his business.
“You sound like you know him pretty well,” Tucker said with a slight frown, and Jason shrugged.
Yeah, Tucker wasn’t in on the Robin thing yet. Luckily there was an easy answer.
“I grew up in Gotham. You guys keep coming back and you’ll get a feel for most of ‘em too.”
Tucker hesitated for a moment, probably thinking back to Amity and their own ghostly rogues. Then he nodded, settling back to poke at his mostly finished plate.
Tim still didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t know Waylon the way Jason did. They’d never had the chance to talk beyond the usual Robin-and-Rogue.
Jason could prove his point tomorrow. Maybe bring Danny along.
And like the thought summoned him, Jason’s phone buzzed to a text from Danny.
‘DannyP: who tf is Constantine??👀👀🤣’
————
Tag List: @welcometosasakiworld @kyrianclawraith @someonebored0100 @stealingyourbones @starkcravingmad @frostedthroughghost @akikkobara @rainbowbunny0159 @littlefeather345 @violet-catsarelife @serasvictoria02 @wolfjackle @blacksea21090 @secretdestinywerewolf @anime-hipster-the-amazing @undead-essence @skitscratched @blackroserelina @snoodly-boop @trickerdi @mayoota-blog @xysidhe @idkmrpianoman @little-apricot-the-writer @chaoticmistake @the-legal-shipper @bun-fish @aroranorth-west @demon-cat-goes-woof @eonic @onyxlightdragon @larks-and-katydids @peachesandcreamfemboy @jesus-camp-the-sequel @may-rbi @mothman-the-mothman87 @viyatrix @stargirl1331 @idfk-man10 @thedepressedrobin @skulld3mort-1fan @rootsmudge @ravenshadow17 @cankoking @phantom-dc @mentalcarebear @magic-pincushion
(I see some of y’all got your search problem fixed hello!!!!)
#danny fenton dead and loving it#wip wednesday#chapter 11#shit this might be the longest fic i ever done did#so much to do this chapter i’m actually thinking things through#where to fix where to focus#so many good options no bad ones#but yes the fenton thermos is going to feature 😏#bet y’all thought i forgot the rogue attack like it was lf#vlad#but i didn’t
155 notes
·
View notes
Text
Things We Lost in the Fire, ch 38
aka Caleo uni au
Fic summary: Calypso starts studying at a new university, but to her annoyance her new flatmate is a loud mouthed mechanic who also likes to sneak his dog in whenever. But as she learns to know him better, she realizes they might have more in common than what she first thought. Eventually, even the darkest secrets come out…
Chapter summary: A new semester is starting
A/N: We are finally done with the holiday chapters! When it comes to this chapter, I'd like to state that I only have some experience from a couple of Finnish universities so I really don't know a whole lot about how certain things work in practice in the States, so please ignore the possible inaccuracies for the sake of this fic. It feels weird after a couple of 'bigger' chapters to have a bit more 'fillery' one... but... but... there's Caleo in the beginning?? So I hope you'll enjoy nevertheless. I wish I could spread even more love towards this ship because they deserve it but sadly there are only so few hours in a day. The fandom seems so quiet these days...
Anyway, enough rambling! Now let's get to this chapter, and the usual reminder: I love to hear what you think! All comments are much appreciated :)
Words: 2500+
Genre: romance & hurt/comfort
Warnings: none
previous chapter / AO3
...
”Is something the matter? You look quite unhappy.”
Leo felt arms sneak around his shoulders from behind while he was sitting on the common area sofa, staring at his laptop with a frown. Some of the speaker’s reddish brown hair fell in front of his face, the smell of cinnamon drifting into his nose, and for some reason that alone was enough to relieve some of Leo’s uneasiness. The small, pale hands found their way down his biceps and stopped there, but he wasn’t going to complain. If he was honest, he was really happy about Calypso’s growing confidence when it came to the physical affection, because it told him she really trusted him. Sometimes he was still amazed that he out of all the people had managed to break the ice around her.
Before Leo let himself get too lovestruck, though, he reminded himself why he was staring at his laptop in the first place. The new semester was starting and that naturally meant new courses, new assignments, new texts to read and… new emails from his professors. One specific email had managed to twist his stomach quite badly. In it, the professor from his chemistry lab class had asked him for a meeting, and Leo assumed he wanted to discuss what had happened on the exam day. Wishing that he could just ignore that said message, he turned his attention back to his girlfriend.
“Just uni issues… nothing more severe this time,” Leo replied half jokingly. The holidays had given him some perspective on what really was important to him and failing a class didn’t feel quite as big an issue anymore. It was inconvenient, yes, on a few levels, but not entirely unfixable.
“Oh?” Calypso finally let her hands slide off of him and sat down next to him. She seemed a bit relieved that this was about the university and not something that was out of her reach, and if Leo was honest, he couldn’t blame her. “What kind of issues?”
“A professor wants to meet me face to face tomorrow. Probably to talk about my recent chemistry lab test or something like that.” He shrugged nonchalantly.
“Hmm… Isn’t it quite unusual for them to give special focus to a single student at this stage?” Calypso asked.
“Apparently they still do that in my department. Who knows, maybe they think I’ve caused them enough trouble by now and want me to quit.”
“But what happened in your lab test was not your fault. Do you think you are any closer to being able to finish it in case you get another chance?”
When Calypso was looking at him with those almost chocolate brown eyes, he felt that it wasn’t impossible.
“Some smart person once said that I need to believe in myself more, so that’s what I need to learn to do. After that… it might be possible.”
“I’m glad you’re listening to me at least sometimes.” Calypso gave him a lopsided smile. “The fact that you know what you should do means that you’re already on your way there.”
“Yeah. I guess so.” Wanting to talk about something else, Leo asked: “Well, what about you? How are you feeling about the upcoming semester?”
“I’m feeling… pretty good about it, you know? Sure, I’ve been reading our course plans and it sounds like our professors are planning to make us work like every day is an exam day and we have some group assignments and important presentations coming up, but… I really like learning? And I like listening to the conversations between our professors and my fellow students during our lectures because it’s something I never got to do when I was stuck at home… I feel like I get new points of views from them all the time. And Annabeth is a really big help; she knows everything about everything so if I ever feel like I can’t follow the lectures, she can always clarify them to me.”
“I have a hard time imagining you not being able to keep up with the professors… but yeah, it’s good you can ask for her help if needed.”
Calypso nodded.
“You know, I’m glad you two got your issues sorted out in the fall,” Leo added as an afterthought.
Calypso looked up at him with a slight frown as if she had completely forgotten about what exactly had happened in the fall. “Oh, right, that. I feel like it was just one big misunderstanding. Both of us realized that we can’t get stuck on something that happened so long ago.”
Leo couldn’t deny that he had also felt a bit jealous of Percy when he had first found out about his and Calypso’s past, but she had clearly moved on, so he wasn’t holding a grudge anymore either. Calypso had decided to date him, and that’s what mattered.
“Yeah, I know from my personal experiences that ain’t worth it,” he replied.
Calypso leaned her head against his shoulder and sighed.
“I have a… maybe a bit weird question. Do you believe in some kind of greater power? You know, like gods?”
Leo wondered why she would ask that. “I dunno. Maybe. I’m not really strongly for or against that. I think I’m the kind of person who needs to see it to believe it, but I don’t think it’s impossible. But why do you ask?”
“This will sound extremely cheesy but sometimes I wonder… if there was a reason why we two met. Like some greater power that pushed us together for some reason.”
“Wow. I don’t know if any greater powers had their fingers in that but I am glad that it happened.” Leo threw his arm around her shoulder and wondered briefly why it felt like such a natural thing to do. At one point he had been too intimidated to initiate any kind of physical contact but now that they were more open with each other and she had seen him in some of his worse moments – he didn’t mind anymore.
“Yeah. Me too.” Calypso whispered.
Only the buzzing of the fridge and some other kitchen machinery could be heard on the background while the flatmates were simply enjoying each other’s company, resting their heads against each other, but eventually Calypso suggested:
“Hey... I think I need something that will allow me to disconnect a bit, so… how about some Friends?”
Leo didn’t have anything against that suggestion. In fact, he always enjoyed the TV show or movie nights with Calypso, for various reasons. “Sure. That sounds great to me. You know I’m always ready to roast my homeboy Chandler.”
“I know you are.” Calypso nudged him and took the remote control to find the right episode. As they started watching and commenting on it (he always enjoyed how snarky Calypso’s comments could be), Leo almost forgot about the upcoming meeting with the professor.
…
The next day, Leo found himself in the building where the office of his lab professor was located. At the breakfast table he had practiced the meeting with Calypso, and Jason had also joined him a bit later to wish him luck. To Leo’s relief, he did seem a lot happier than when he had seen him before the holiday break, but he still didn’t talk a whole lot about his current situation. Leo himself decided that it was better if he didn’t guide his friends too much so instead he did a quick recap on the recent developments in his own life – without mentioning his new relationship status. Luckily Jason didn’t ask, as he seemed to be more worried about Leo’s upcoming meeting.
As he was waiting for the professor to arrive, Leo kept glancing at his clock nervously. The man was already a few minutes late. While Leo knew that wasn’t anything unusual in the university world, as the professors tended to be busy, he still kept wishing he could get the meeting over with as soon as possible. His leg started bouncing again on its own and his fingers were tapping against the wooden handle of the chair. Suddenly he didn’t feel quite as sure about what he was going to tell the professor as he had felt earlier.
Finally, he was pulled from his thoughts by a loud ‘ahem’.
“Mr. Valdez? Sorry I’m late, my meeting with a couple of coworkers got a bit long,” the professor said.
“That’s… that’s fine,” Leo stuttered. Some months ago he would probably have said something snarky as a response but right now he knew better than to take any risks.
“Go in, go in, so we can have a talk,” the professor encouraged. Unwillingly, Leo followed him into his office and had to be told to sit down before he even realized that there was a comfortable looking arm chair right next to him.
“So…” the professor started once he was seated behind his desk. “You probably know why I invited you here.”
“I… I do have an idea…” Leo said hesitantly, looking everywhere in the room except the professor. The man had a lot of engineering related books in his bookshelf, a big stack of papers - probably students’ assignments - and a fancy looking calculator on his desk. Behind him on the wall there was a single photograph of his family. Pretty much exactly how Leo had imagined the said professor’s room looking.
“I will be direct with you. Your achievements in the lab classes - or lack thereof - is a cause of confusion for us. In almost all of the theory related classes, you are on the top of the class – despite the occasional reports that your behavior towards the lecturers could use some improvement.” The man raised his eyebrow, but Leo thought he could see a glint of amusement in his eyes. That didn’t last long, though. “However, until now we have been willing to overlook that because of your talents. Maths, physics, chemistry… those things you clearly don’t have any issues with. But already for the second year you have been avoiding the lab classes for which you have been signed up and last fall you even left the chemistry lab test before you managed to get it completed. I’m sure you are aware that if you want to move onto the more advanced classes, you need to complete the mandatory ones before you are allowed to do that.”
“Yes, sir, I’m aware of that,” Leo replied stiffly, wondering briefly when was the last time he had called anyone sir, other than ironically.
“In that case…” His voice turned less formal, more fatherly as he continued, which surprised Leo. The professors he was used to dealing with were usually not all too nice to him, although he was willing to admit that some of it was probably deserved. “Can I ask you, is there a specific reason why you haven’t attended the lab classes?”
Leo wondered if he should come up with a quick lie. It wouldn’t be the first time in his life that he would have to do that in order to protect himself. However, the professor really seemed sincere and concerned about him and in a way his expression reminded him of Jo’s when she was expecting him to open up. Perhaps that’s why he ended up deciding to answer honestly:
“Yes. There is.”
“And? What is the reason?” The professor raised his eyebrow.
Leo inhaled deeply before forming his response. “I’m afraid of fire. Yeah, laugh ahead, but it’s true. I can’t deal with anything that requires heating because of some nasty as hell childhood trauma.”
To his surprise, the professor didn’t get angry at him for talking to him in such a manner. Instead, he furrowed his eyebrows.
“And you’re still planning to make mechanical engineering your career? Despite your fear?”
Leo nodded slowly. “Yeah. Building and fixing inanimate objects is the only thing I’ve ever known how to do. I was basically born with a hammer and a wrench in my hands and I was capable of building toys for myself when I was like four. After an accident…” He refrained from mentioning his mother because he couldn’t guarantee he would be able to stay calm if he brought that up. “… I haven’t been able to light up a match or anything like that. But almost five years ago, two awesome women adopted me and one of them is a mechanic. She reminded me what I really love about tinkering and it was then that I decided that I wanna keep trying. It’s a process but I am working on it.”
The professor smiled a little. “You know… a lot of our students were unable to take the chemistry lab course in the fall, so we decided to organize another course now in the spring. As it happens, there’s still some room for new people in it. So, if you’re interested, you’re welcome. But remember, you would need to attend all the mandatory classes and complete the tasks that you are assigned, no exceptions. That means we will not be going easy on you just because of your fear.”
Leo’s eyes widened with surprise. He hadn’t expected to get a chance like that.
“Woah, thanks sir! I won’t let you down!”
“That’s good to hear,” the professor nodded approvingly. “Can I ask you a question, though? Why do you want to become a mechanical engineer? I mean, what exactly is it that fascinates you about it, other than the influences you have gotten at your home?”
Leo imagined that the professor could probably see the bolts and nuts moving in his brain as he formed his answer. “I… I wanna learn to develop products that will help us make the world a safer, more sustainable place for us. We engineers, if anyone, can develop technology that will help us achieve that goal. But that’s not all. I also wanna learn more so I can help to share the information forward. I wanna show kids who come from similar backgrounds as I that they should keep on dreaming. There was a time when my mom ate porridge - only porridge - for her meals so she could pay the rent when her business was slow, but she still kept doing it. Because that’s how much she cared about her job. And I want to continue in her footsteps.”
The professor shifted on his seat. “That is an admirable goal, Mr. Valdez. I hope you will succeed. Remember, you do have the skill – you just need to know how to use it.”
“Yeah… Thanks professor.”
“No problem. Don’t forget the class enrollments end tonight so you need to be fast if you want to participate. That’s all for now. Good luck in your future endeavors.”
“Thanks. I’ll go enroll myself then. Bye for now.”
“See you, Mr. Valdez.”
Leo breathed a long sigh of relief the moment he stepped out of the professor’s office. The meeting had gone way better than he had dared to expect. He hadn’t thought he would get another chance so fast, but was grateful for the opportunity. Now, he would only need to kick his fears into the deepest pits of Tartarus, as Calypso would say.
#caleo#leo valdez#calypso#heroes of olympus#percy jackson and the olympians#trials of apollo#my fics#caleo uni au
10 notes
·
View notes
Text
A Rant About Heroes of Olympus Character Arcs.
Just as a warning most of this is negative, but I put the names in big bold letters, in case you want to skip. I do have some controversial opinions in here, specifically towards Percy and Annabeth, and their relationship, but I don’t think I’m negative towards their actual characters... I more so critique how it could have been written better.
I do still love the series, and even though I poke fun at Rick a bit, I still like him as a writer (though I recognize the problematic elements in this story). These are my own opinions on the books, and I’m sorry if I criticize your character in ways you don’t like.
Also, I may do another post about some other problematic elements, so be on the lookout for that.
Percy
Let’s start with Percy, shall we? After all, he is the one who started it all, and he was the one who introduced us to this world. If I’m being extremely honest, and I know I’m going to get hate for this, but I think Percy’s arc should have ended in the first series. He could have still remained a major character in this series, but I think as far as his main arc went, it wrapped up better in the first series, because I feel like this series added nothing to his arc.
I mean, he and Annabeth went through some majorly traumatic shit in The House of Hades, and then nothing was done about it, and I feel like it would just be better had it not happened. Besides I have some major issues with how his relationship with Annabeth played out.
Annabeth
I was really excited for Annabeth, and I did like her arc in MoA. It seemed like a good continuation of her arc in the first series, where Annabeth wanted to prove herself to everyone else, and now she wanted to prove herself to... well, herself. The arc had potential, and I really enjoyed seeing her arc in MoA, but as I said, I didn’t like how her and Percy’s relationship ship played out.
Now, let me preface this by saying that I am NOT anti-Percabeth, in fact, I do post a lot about it on this blog, but I am critical of how Rick writes established relationships. Perhaps it is because I’m older, so therefore my mind is more critical of these sorts of things.
I love Percabeth, but I really dislike their codependency.... I mean Annabeth’s arc in MoA was great because there was a focus on her relationship with Percy, but it was still about her. And yeah, I understand they’ve been through a lot together, but I really don’t like how their development was dependent on each other.
The reason why I put this under Annabeth and not Percy is because for me, it was much worse for Annabeth, because this was our first time getting this from her perspective. We got to see Percy develop through his own eyes, but we never really got the same for Annabeth. Most of Annabeth’s development was through Percy’s eyes, which was why I was so excited that Annabeth was getting her own POV.
And it was great in MoA! But after that, it honestly felt to me that her story was more about her relationship with Percy, than Annabeth herself.
Jason
Jason was doomed from the beginning.
That’s the main issue, is in the beginning, he was literally a blank slate, and while we were worried about the mystery of his character, there was really no way for us to know who he was as a person, because HE didn’t even know. So, as he was introduced at the same time as Piper and Leo, he didn’t get the same development as Piper and Leo. As we learned the other two’s backstories, and how those backstories represent who they are in the current story.
And the thing is, when we finally DID find out who he was, it was too late to do anything with it, because the story ended. I think by the time Blood of Olympus rolled around, and we did learn more about him... a lot of people had no interest in him.
That being said, I love fanon Jason, and I didn’t like how he was treated in the Trials of Apollo series.
Piper
Piper... I have a very complicated relationship with Piper. I kind of wrote this several times, because I couldn’t quite pinpoint my issues with Piper, and she is such a controversial character for whatever reason, and whatever I say will be perceived as me hating on her. That is not the case. I like the idea of Piper’s character, though I can agree she, as well as the other Aphrodite children, are written with sexist tropes, which is another post.
My main issue with Piper is that most of her development happens off the page. In the first few books, she her charmspeak is shown getting her in a lot of trouble, and she often lacks confidence when using it. My issue is the resolution for this happens mainly off the page.
A huge internal conflict with Piper is her lack of self confidence, which is something that I personally can relate to, but we never see her develop that confidence, we’re just told that it happened. Like she worked with Hazel and Annabeth on xyz, so suddenly she is much better and confident in her abilities of xyz. This kind of made her hard for me to connect with her in general, because it seems like most of her struggles happened off page.
This isn’t even just with her overall character; it’s with her relationship with other characters. We do see her friendship with Leo develop to some extent, but that’s because they already had an established friendship before the series started. Her other relationships? Jason and Piper went from barely knowing each other to dating between books. We never saw her friendship with Annabeth develop. She apparently was friends with Hazel, but that happened off the page.
Now, this happened to each character to some degree, but I think Piper got hit the hardest with the “tell, don’t show,” thing. I do think that because a lot of people didn’t like Piper, and imo, most of the criticisms were bullshit, Rick tried to overcompensate by trying to force development on her, without doing the work of showing us her development.
Leo
To be honest, his wasn’t as bad as others, but I feel like more people were disappointed, because he was a relatable fan-favorite. His arc went wrong for the exact opposite reasons as Piper’s, as there was legitimately a lot of development on the page, and he had a good arc set up, but Rick literally forgot everything that initially made his character so likeable to the audience.
So, here’s my thing with Leo’s arc; it was really good for the first three books, as Rick did develop him while leaving room for more development in new books. He also had a consistent arc; in The Lost Hero his arc was about his inferiority complex, which was directly connected to his trauma. He never felt like he had a home, and never felt like he belonged.
This was the direction I was hoping they would go with the “seventh wheel” storyline; meaning, yeah, he’s the only one in the seven who’s not in a relationship, but why does this bother him so much? Because, I don’t think it was the fact that he was in a relationship, I think it was trauma.
I so badly wanted the seventh wheel plot line to be an extension of what happened in TLH, but it became ignored, and it just seemed like a reason to put him in a relationship.
I’m not going to sit here and say that Leo shouldn’t have been in a relationship (though I will say I had an issue with Caleo), but I will say that I hate how a relationship was supposed to solve his feelings of inferiority- when it’s clearly indicated that Leo had those feelings because of trauma. A relationship can’t reverse years of trauma.
I also thought it would be so much more impactful if Leo made his sacrifice because of his feelings of inferiority, then perhaps the resurrection happens through one of his friends.
Hazel
I fucking hate how little Hazel (and Frank) were written into the series, especially considering she was one of my favorite new characters introduced in HoO. I also think she had the most potential, and her backstory was the most intriguing of the seven.
Why the hell was she not in the books more? Rick literally wrote a whole ass book in the series that mostly centered around the two already developed characters of the series, but he couldn’t give Hazel and Frank more POVs?
I don’t have anything to say about Hazel’s arc, because she barely HAD one, at least not after her initial one in SoN. The Sammy arc was made about Leo, which I get to some extent, as they sort of have a connection through Sammy. That being said, Leo never actually knew Sammy, and I feel like the flashback scene would have been so much more impactful from Hazel’s POV.
The biggest issue with that is it didn’t really feel like a way to develop any of the characters, but it was used as a way to justify a love triangle... that was barely even a love triangle.
In conclusion, Hazel was screwed over.
Frank
Frank, oh I have some things to say about the writing of Frank’s character, because my issue with Frank’s writing is a combination of the off-the-page development that happened with Piper, and the lack of POVs issue with Hazel, but to different degrees. Most of my issues with this comes from between Heroes of Olympus and Trials of Apollo
See, I do think his lack of POVs contributing to his lack of character development, you know what pisses me off?
The fire stick thing was a HUGE part of his character arc. It caused him legitimate fear and partially affected his relationship to some of the others (coughLeocough). And the resolution? Happened between series, and it’s literally mentioned in passing. What the fuck, Rick?
I don’t know, to me, it just seemed like a betrayal to his whole character arc, because we saw him struggle so much because of this, and the resolution just happened off page? I can just rant about how annoyed I am by that, because it just felt like Rick realized he forgot about Frank, and resolved his whole internal conflict off the page.
Nico
I love Nico! But, of course, I do have my criticisms of his character.
First of all, I really enjoyed how we got his point of view in Heroes of Olympus, but I really just wish he was part of the seven to begin with, for a number of reasons. First of all, it just makes sense- it’s indicated that he is the only demigod who knows about both camps... so wouldn’t it make sense that he would be part of the plan to reunite them? Don’t get me wrong, he does play a big role in this anyways, but it’s kind of weird that he just knows, and nobody thinks, “Hey, maybe we should include Nico!”
Another huge issue I had, was Nico’s coming out scene was in Jason’s point of view... which I get, because I’m reality, he wasn’t one of the seven... but it just seems fucked up? I mean I like headcanons of Nico and Jason’s friendship, but the unfortunate truth is... they didn’t actually know each other.
In fact, Nico wasn’t really that close to any of the seven- he was probably closest to Percy, and even he didn’t know that much about him at times. It just felt weird, not only seeing Nico come out in someone else’s POV, but in a POV of someone he barely even knew.
Also the fact he was forced to come out... I see the intentions, but it’s just not a good look.
Reyna
Reyna... don’t have any issues against Reyna, other than I wish we had more time with her before the last book. She was such an interesting character and I needed more of her.
55 notes
·
View notes
Text
Fanfic recommendations part six: 100% Alternate Universe stories.
Hey! It took me a while to post this and I’m sorry, got too caught up with, well, you know, life (ew). But I’m back!
All the stories listed in this are stories are 100% AU (yes, I’m including the Soulmate AU’s in this category). I’ve read and enjoyed them all.
Accidentally In Love by the bohemian flow.
Rachel Hyde was a witness to a strange romance that blossomed between her twin brother, Steven, and Jackie Burkhart, of all people. Her and Steven weren't the biggest fans of Jackie, but now, he loves her. How could Rachel possibly put up with her brother's girlfriend?
AU where Hyde has a sister. Not 100% focused on J/H, since it’s from Hyde’s sister POV, but it’s still pretty good.
This story is a WIP and it’s being updated constantly.
109k words, 28 chapters so far.
Rated T.
Pairings: Jackie/Hyde, OC/Kelso, OC/Eric, Eric/Donna.
A Different Start Could Lead to a Better End by SoftBubbles
Instead of Hyde meeting her as Kelso's annoying girlfriend, what if he met her as his annoying English partner, whom he quickly learns is more than she seems.
This story is not complete, it was last updated on July of 2020, and I pray for the author to come back to it one day, it’s a really good story.
Trigger warning for child abuse.
13k words, 14 chapters.
Rated T.
Pairings: Jackie/Hyde
Bad Moon on the Rise by Badfanfic
Set around season 2. Jackie starts to develop feelings for Hyde, even though its the last thing she wants. Hyde is just trying to survive but is having difficulty controlling himself, especially around a certain cheerleader.
Hyde is a werewolf in this story. And THIS IS GOOD Y’ALL, I’ve read this like 10 times already.
Unfortunally, I think this story is abandoned, the last time the author updated was in June of 2020, but I still have hope, it’s really good and I’m DYING to read more. I absolutely adore stories with supernatural elements, and it’s so hard to find good ones in this fandom. Please read this.
13k words, 9 chapters.
Rated T.
Pairings: Jackie/Hyde
Focus by Jenny7
After a metaphysical awakening, Hyde develops the ability to telepathically connect with a single stranger. What he doesn't expect is that the girl that he shares the connection with, a rich cheerleader with a complicated past, will forever alter his views on life and love.
SO GOOD. It’s complete and it has a sequel (that’s not complete but still worth the read), called Darlin, Walk Awhile With Me.
2k words, 19 chapters.
Rated T.
Pairings: Jackie/Hyde.
History Rewritten by kezztip
What if Hyde got his Season 1 wish and stole Donna away from Eric? And then what if Eric had turned to a certain tiny cheerleader instead?
This story is complete, and if you have a soft spot for Eric/Jackie, than you might like this a lot.
81k words, 25 chapters.
Rated T.
Pairings: Jackie/Hyde, Jackie/Eric, Hyde/Donna, Eric/Donna.
(I absolutely hate the Hyde and Donna pairing but it’s temporary so it’s okay).
Playing Pretend by isnotme
Caught up in her teenager concerns – and some wounds to heal, Jackie didn’t realize that her parents' marriage was crashing down for real, causing a major turnaround in her world.
.
In the edge of seventeen, Hyde had too much on his mind. With graduation coming so soon, he knew too well he was about to be kicked out of the Forman's home. But when Bud’s illegal activities came to knock on his door, Hyde saw his plans falling apart once again.
Or
An AU where Jackie and Hyde get themselves in one of those fake relationship situation and somewhere along the way, they find somethings in commun. Highly inspired in every cliché Rom Com ever made, including Netflix's most recents TATBILB and Isi and Ossi.
This story is a WIP and it’s being updated often.
33k words, 13 chapters.
Rated T.
Pairings: Jackie/Hyde, background Eric/Donna
Pretty in Wisconsin by BelleBae
Jackie Burkhart has a lot to deal with. Her dad is in prison, her mum can't get it together and one of her best friends is in love with her. Will she be able to sort everything out by Prom? Inspired by Pretty In Pink.
Cute and complete.
20k words, 23 chapters.
Rated T.
Pairings: Jackie/Hyde
Rock You Like a Hurricane by zeppelinandunicorns (yours truly)
Alternative universe where Donna met Jackie before meeting Eric and the rest of basement gang.
Jackie and Donna are 16 and 17 when they finally met the four basement misfits after a Fleetwood Mac concert.
This story is a WIP, and I do not plan on abandoning it, I love it too much to do that.
77k words, 15 chapters so far.
Rated M.
Pairings: Jackie/Hyde, Eric/Donna, background Red/Kitty and eventual Fez/Laurie and Kelso/Brooke.
Also Available on AO3
She Belongs to me series by QueenBookBuff
A universe where Kelso cared a lot more about Jackie and Hyde getting together and implications of a deeper background for both Jackie and Hyde and Kelso and Jackie.
This got me hooked, it’s really good, please read it.
It’s complete and there are sequels! They are called All Our Tomorrows
and The Scarlet and SJ Chronicles.
27k words, 7 works in total.
Rated M.
Pairings: Jackie/Hyde
Summer Music Series by Wickedfetch
What if Hyde and Jackie didn't meet until 1985?
Complete.
7k words, 3 chapters.
Rated T.
Pairings: Jackie/Hyde
Also Available on AO3
That 70s show by Zenmaster21
What if Jackie had dated Hyde from the beginning instead of Kelso? This is simply a re-write of the episodes had Jackie and Hyde always been together.
One of my favorites stories from the entire fandom.
Not complete, but please read it, it’s worth it.
Trigger warning for child abuse.
152k words, 37 chapters.
Rated M.
Pairings: Jackie/Hyde, Eric/Donna
The Fifth Forman by BlueZeppelin
What if it wasn't just Eric and Laurie? What if they had another sibling? Like...Jackie? What would happen with Hyde? Would Eric be happy with his sister dating his best friend? Would Red like his daughter to be with one of the basement dumbasses?
This story is complete!!
52k words, 18 chapters.
Rated T.
Pairings: Jackie/Hyde
The One Where Jackie Moves In by Floweerchild96
Jackie has been living in New-York with her family but after her father goes to jail and her mother abandons her, she is forced to return to a town she thought she was done with for good. How will Jackie's reemergence in the basement effect the gangs lives?
A really good story, but unfortunally, it’s not complete. Still worth the read.
103k words, 20 chapters.
Rated T.
Pairings: Jackie/Hyde, background Eric/Donna.
Wall Around Your Heart by ourinvisibleink
Jackie Burkhart-Forman was adopted at almost ten years old by Red and Kitty, after her parents flee the country for drug trafficking crimes. Laurie grapples with addiction, Eric is messed up because of Red’s verbal abuse, Steven’s arrival is brought on by Jackie, Kelso is neglected, Fez is victim to racism, and Jackie befriends Jason, the new kid who happens to be gay.
This story is really good, but it deals with some serious stuff. I still love it.
Complete and it has a sequel called Plastar and Mortar.
52k words, 26 chapters.
Rated M.
Pairings: Jackie/Hyde, Eric/Donna, Fez/Laurie, Red/Kitty.
One-shots:
A Little Less 70s, A Little More Modern AU by fairytalesandfolklore
A modern AU where the characters from That 70’s Show grew up in the 90’s x early 2000’s instead.
Cute as hell!!! Worth the read!
1k words.
Rated T.
Pairings: Jackie/Hyde
found a wife and a home (and a family that matters) by blackorchids
Hyde’s been part of the Forman family for years before they make him move in.
I placed this in the AU category because apparently Jackie and Hyde always dated, it doesn’t specify much.
1k words.
Rated G.
Pairings: background Jackie/Hyde and background Red/Kitty. This is not focused on the couples, but on Hyde’s relationship with the Forman’s.
Lady and The Tramp by soobeans
'See, I, myself, don't like you. I find you abrasive. But if I didn't know you, and I'd never talked to you, I'd think you were totally hot.'
In Point Place, Wisconsin, there are only three distinct areas. The Western area consists of the burnouts, thugs, outcasts, hopeless dreamers, poor people, and overall, tramps. The Eastern area holds the classy, rich, and more fortunate ladies and gentlemen. In between is where the two are forced to intermingle, but of course, they found a few ways to separate themselves.
8k words.
Rated T.
Pairings: Jackie/Hyde, some minor background Eric/Donna moments.
That Disco Episode: Zenmasters Style by springsteenicious
What if Hyde had learned how to dance to impress Jackie instead of Donna? And what if Jackie hadn’t been dating Kelso?
That Disco Episode, rewritten for Jackie and Hyde.
2k words.
Rated T.
Pairings: Jackie/Hyde
Bonus: Soulmate AU’S:
I am so in love with Soulmate AU’s that I’m currently writing one, I wanted to make a special post just for this category but it would be too small so I just included it in here.
Finders Keepers by nannygirl
It's said that before you find your soulmate you will find one of their lost items first, so what happens when Hyde finds a gold bracelet in The Formans' backyard? Will it lead him to his soulmate, someone who he's sure probably doesn't even exist?
This story is not complete, but worth the read.
5k words, 2 chapters.
Rated K+.
Pairings: Jackie/Hyde, some background Red/Kitty
It Takes Time to Fall in Love by yabookreader96
Jackie can't wait to meet her soulmate, but a dire mistake on her part leads her to mistakenly identify him as Michael, while Hyde watches his soulmate clock hit zero and immediately knows that it's Jackie. Years pass, Jackie with Michael, Hyde saying nothing as he knowingly watches from the side. Will this dynamic be permanent or will destiny bring the true soulmates together?
This story is complete.
18k words, 12 chapters.
Rated T.
Pairings: Jackie/Hyde, temporary Jackie/Kelso.
Mistaken Messages by MistyMountainHop
Jackie longs for her soulmate to accept her, and Hyde hopes his will leave him alone because he's in love with someone else. A stack of mystical index cards lets them communicate with their as-yet unidentified soulmates. But the more their soulmates write, the less control Jackie and Hyde seem to have over their fate.
This story is complete.
23k words, 5 chapters.
Rated M.
Pairings: Jackie/Hyde, background Eric/Donna
Also Available on AO3
Until We Get There by poetdameron
Running away from their own wedding is the craziest thing Hyde and Jackie have ever done together. But the tug he feels at his heart when realizing she doesn't want to marry him? The worst.
This story is complete.
39k words, 8 chapters.
Rated M.
Pairings: Jackie/Hyde
Also Available on AO3
Voodooized by mc_1
Eric’s been noticing something weird going on between Jackie and Hyde. At a party one night, all of Eric’s suspicions are confirmed when the two become love-marked- an event that occurs when soulmates are ready to be together, resulting in a mark on the skin that bonds them together for life. The unlikely couple puzzle over how they could possibly be paired together as they struggle to understand each other.
This story is a WIP.
14k words, 4 chapters.
Rated M.
Pairings: Jackie/Hyde. Eric/Donna
Where It Wasn’t Supposed To Be by moved-ao3
Jackie thinks it's a blessing, Hyde a curse. Set in an alternate universe where characters receive a list with their soulmate's worst qualities, Jackie and Hyde struggle to navigate their feelings for each other when everything else seems pitted against them.
Not complete, and it makes me want to cry, but it’s really good.
15k words, 5 chapters.
Rated T.
Pairings: Jackie/Hyde
Also Available on AO3
One-shots:
all i need by orphan_account
"When he is six years old, the words 'Pudding Pop' appear on his wrist in the curliest, loopiest handwriting he's ever seen. There's even a little heart dotting the 'i'."
1k words.
The author didn’t rate this one, I would rate it as T.
Pairings: Jackie/Hyde
Blush by springsteenicious
On a person's eighteenth birthday, they swap bodies with their soulmate. Hyde doesn't have high hopes for his soulmate, but when he wakes up in a very pink room with posters and painted nails, his life is changed for the better.
4k words.
Rated T.
Pairings: Jackie/Hyde
Also Available on AO3
I believe this is all!
I’ll repeat this at the end of every single post (seriously, I literally copy and paste this every single time): Speaking as someone who writes, it would be really cool if you guys decide to leave a review (or a comment, if the story is on AO3) in the stories you read, especially the unfinished ones. It really motivates the authors, and receiving a compliment is always a mood lifter. I’ve seen some authors updating stories after years because of nice reviews, so… yeah, this is just an idea.
Feel free to reply to this post if you think I left out a good story!
Next category: Christmas fics!
#jackie x hyde#jackie and hyde#zenmasters#fanfic#fanfic rec#that '70s show#that 70s show#alternate timeline#soulmate AU#fanfic recommendations
44 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
the-fretful-porpentine
The Fretful Porpentine
shopwitchvamp
WITCH VAMP
beautiful-anime-art
Beautiful anime art
classic-games
Classic-Games.net
bearranger11
Untitled