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#librarians scare me
wonielvr · 7 months
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[12:49] – nishimura riki
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"hey, mind if I sit here?" riki asked quietly. the librarian hated him anyway, making a fuss like the last time he went to the school's library for a project would result in a one way ticket to hell from that grumpy old lady.
"nope. Why didn't you answer my calls?" you asked intriguingly, yet your face adorned a funny expression. The truth is you knew he wouldn't pick them up, that's just how riki is, all over the place, the kind of guy who would look for his sunglasses for hours unknowing of the fact they are on his head the entire time.
"I'm sorry, you know me... what did you call me for?" he stumbled over his words adorably. You patted twice on the gray cushioned seat next to you, signalling him to sit next to you.
"Do you remember that absolute jerk that entitled the seat next to me I saved for you in art class?" you asked snakingly. "Well he also claimed me as a partner for that stupid assignment! that freak!"
"unacceptable! I shall now call him and announce that my dear lady fell sick, and would like to do their assignment only along with those immune to the sickness, aka only her darling of a friend, me!" he went elegantly through the words with an unnecessary weird accent that was somehow meant to mock the british.
"well guess what, I confronted him, and now I'm forever stuck along the shadow of said darling of a friend. Say hello to your new assignment partner!"
"hey! Keep quiet there in the back, you pricks of the new generation," a hoarse voice suddenly called from under the big pile of books next to the two of you.
you and riki sure did have quite a laugh on account of the grouchy blob of sadness that was that woman, but after an expected long period of not being able to work, you managed to actually finish the assignment.
"did you know that I read-" he started confidently as if he was about to reveal the meaning of life to you.
"you can read?!" you interrupted him playfully. If he didn't like you as much as he does you would probably be left with a big red mark of his hand on your face for eternity.
he gave you a disappointed look in response and restarted the sentence. "I read about how physical closeness of friends through a hug or a kiss can reflect the way they view eachother romantically."
"I am absolutely sure you're making this up right now..." your sentence dragged while he leaned into you. Even though you were sure he was speaking nonsense, he was right after all. Your heartbeat was so loud in your ears you thought it would deafen you.
all the girls in the school theorised that riki is a majestic kisser, and they were all right. You never felt so passionate yet goalless, insisting yet high on cloud nine.
"out! now, you little turds! cumberworlds!" the woman reappeared out of nowhere once again, cursing as if she was a victorian woman well in the past. well, she seems old enough to be one.
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shadowofmoths · 2 months
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me when i have to pick my kids up from library at 9:57 but thursday tickets go on sale at 10
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isfjmel-phleg · 7 months
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Added a children's [picture] book today that was requested by one of the education professors. It's a very soapboxy book. And on a very basic level I agree with the point, but yikes, that read like not so much a story as propaganda. Not even written by a literary author but a commentator.
I don't foresee this one being much of a hit with what few young patrons we have. Or with our education students.
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faeymouse · 10 months
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Ada will forever be one of the best characters in Tron Identity, because (aside from Query, who’s treatment of Cass is entirely up to the player) she’s the only character in the game that’s ride or die for Cass from the moment she meets them.
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silenthillbunni · 2 years
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im so anxious and worried for the future, bc i cant even imagine myself having a job. like having important responsibilities and having to show up and perform well, just being in the role of a grown up with a job. i honestly still feel like 14, i dont feel like i'll ever be mature or smart enough to hold a job. like me, with a job where i have responsibilities and know how to do things and actually do them? that sounds like a joke. i just feel so lost and like i'm not capable of anything and it freaks me out bc what am i supposed to do???
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imnotverybright · 1 year
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there is a deep, never-ending well of love in my heart for kid's books that arent really "meant for kids". books that adults would flip out over kids reading if they knew what they were about, be it because it's too scary, or because of graphic violence, or because it has dark themes. i always loved those types of books as a kid and never regretted finding one in the depths of the school library
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pierswife · 1 year
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Also fuckiiiiiin since I haven't finished the move here yet (still need to finish answering asks on my old blog), this gives me time to think of a funny new promo :)
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i am devouring the sandman comics. i have the second book (#9-18 i think?) and i am obsessed i love it so so much. all hail my local bookstore who had books 2 and 3 a day after i ordered them. i will spend lots of money there these next months
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moregraceful · 2 years
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https://twitter.com/annkillion/status/1530050336441872384?s=21&t=_Wgibx9IK2xboCZaHChAUQ this is librarian Steph after a long day at work sitting through a boring and frustrating city council meeting waiting for his turn to go up and ask for more funding for his little library programs :(
i love you so much, thank you. YES. steph had to tell off a group of teenagers for throwing a football in the reading room AND do a 90 person storytime AND kick a patron out for drinking wine in the magazine room AND someone's laptop caught fire* and now he's at a city council begging for like $1000 for free lunches for elementary school students during summer reading. "in conclusion, money for library programming in the summer would be in line with the city's strategic plan for supporting youth literacy and foundational education," says steph. "fuck them kids," says the city mayor. "give me a tax break and allow me to buy a block of houses to create a privacy screen," says mark zuckerberg. "you got it ;)" says the city mayor.
steph buys grocery store sushi and goes home. while eating his sad sushi with one hand and reading "when we rise" by cleve jones in the other, a little handwritten note on half a sheet of graph paper slips out of the cover. dear mr steph, thank you for recommending me magnus chase today. i am sorry i hit my friend when you were watching. i hope you will forgive me like my friend did after he hit me back. you can hit me if it will make you feel better. i love you. your friend, luka. he smiles tiredly and uses the note as a bookmark when he gets up to grab a beer.
*these are all things that happened to me and/or my coworkers
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continuousmeowing · 1 year
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just finished gideon the ninth and what the fuck. how am i supposed to be normal after that. oh my god.
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psychiclounge · 1 year
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watching a youtuber i really like playing outer wilds bc i only got to the hourglass twins + some of giant's deep before i realized i was too scared shitless to keep going and god. god i fucking love this game
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earthtooz · 8 months
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you're the only one that can tame diluc's anger. reader is called 'lady' but other than that no pronouns are mentioned, fluff, diluc being a softie in this, 1.2k wc.
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your husband is notorious for being the stoic, level-headed character that he is. unperturbed by all things so long as mondstadt was safe and at peace, and when the city had someone as diligent as diluc protecting it, there was virtually nothing that ever made him falter. as much as you love and adore his rationality and straightforwardness, there was nothing that you hated more than his unwillingness to compromise in an argument.
his bullheadedness caused you to storm out of the manor, trek through the expansive fields of the winery in order to reach mondstadt. there, you calmed yourself down with a quick bite from good hunter before heading to the library because a quick rant to lisa would generally soothe the anger you felt. 
however, your original plans of returning to the winery changed when a book that was recently returned caught your eye. noticing your fleeting glance, the electro-user recommends it, detailing its popularity and captivating storyline.
when lisa feels so passionate about something, how could you not be curious? she rarely gets a sentence out without a yawn nowadays so to hear her speak animatedly about a book is bound to get your attention.
without a second thought, you postpone your plans of returning home and find a comfortable couch to sit on before reading.
you must have spent longer than planned, and a favonius soldier barging through the library doors indicates as such, whose expression so panicked you would have thought there was a hillichurl invasion. he takes a quick scan of the room and relief floods his posture when his eyes land on you.
“lady y/n, you must come with me this instant,” the soldier demands after a quick salute.
“what is the issue?” you ask, undeniably curious.
“master diluc is searching for you and i fear that he is very angry. not even barbara can calm him, some of flora’s flowers have been singed, and he might burn down monstadt next, please come with me before it’s too late!”
you know that the soldier is merely exaggerating because as long as you were in mondstadt, diluc would never dare harm the city. moreover, he would never dare lay a finger on the city he loves, but his anger is nothing to take lightly, and you understand the knight’s fear.
although, you really don’t want to meet your husband.
“fine, i suppose i can classify this matter as urgent,” you sigh. “lisa, could you please let me borrow this book? i’ll return it in two weeks.”
“not a problem dear. better run along now before your husband supposedly burns down the city,” the librarian waves her hand, beckoning you to go, so you do.
the knight leads you to the whereabouts of angel’s share and before you could even turn the corner, you hear a mix of kaeya and diluc’s voices.
“i don’t know where y/n is, which is why i have my knights running around to find-” exclaims the calvary captain, beginning to sound perplexed at his brother’s uncharacteristic display of irrationality and franticness. 
observing the scene, you see your husband right in kaeya’s face and suddenly you understand why the knight who brought you here was so frightened. the air had risen significantly in temperature and if you were a moment too late, he actually might have drawn out his claymore.
his red eyes glance behind the navy-haired to see you and in the blink of an eye, the red-haired pushes past the knights before storming down the street, right towards you. 
“where have you been?” diluc asks, stopping only two feet before you. the deep frown on his face is evident of his displeasure, but the concern swimming in his eyes tell you that you don’t need to be scared.
“i was reading in the library,” you gesture to the book you were holding. “enjoying a peaceful afternoon until i got word that you were creating a ruckus.”
the winery owner visibly relaxes, tension flooding from his shoulders whilst a gloved hand runs through his hair, causing his bangs to fall messily in front of his eyes. “let’s talk about this at home,” he states, tone returning to normal as he takes your book from your hand, his vacant hand finding yours. diluc’s grip is tight and unrelenting, leaving no room for you to slip away as he turns to apologise to the knights of favonius.
then, the two of you leave through the main gates. 
“are you still upset?” your husband asks and you squeeze his hand.
“a little,” you murmur before a small laugh escapes your lips, “but i wish you would have seen how terrified that knight was when he found me. it entertained me quite a bit, guess a thank you is in order for that.”
diluc doesn’t say anything but the guilt dripping from him is practically tangible, pooling around your feet and reminding you of the unpleasant argument you had earlier. as the sun begins to dip below the horizon and the sky turns a calming shade of orange, you realise just how long you spent away from him. no wonder why he was so frantic about finding you. 
“the next time you storm out of the winery, can you at least let me know where you are going?”
you laugh at his proposition, unsure of how to respond but he stops. you’re forced to stop too when his unwavering grip makes you turn and look in the ruby eyes that set ablaze in the gold of the setting sun. diluc’s beauty is truly undeniable, and it’s moment like these that make you feel a little jealous that he was graced with such a gift. 
“i’m serious, y/n, you worried me to end when you didn’t return after three hours. i thought something might have happened to you.” his gaze falls downward with his soft confession. “your safety is the most important thing to me, even when things between us are rocky, because- well, you know…”
your heart tightens and the step you take closer to him is instinctual, letting go of his hand to hold his face instead. “i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to worry you.”
“no, you have nothing to apologise for, it was my fault for being so unbearable in the first place,” the red-haired shakes his head, his hands finding a home on your waist. “i’m sorry too.”
“i forgive you,” you hover a kiss over his nose, causing it to scrunch at the sensation. when you lean back, the softness in his eyes and smile is unmatched and you’re grateful that you’re the only one with the luxury of seeing him as such. the only person he’s let into his kingdom of concrete walls is you, gifting you a more vulnerable side of him that the rest of the world has not seen in years. 
“i love you,” you murmur and diluc hums, tapping your waist three times in response. “oh but diluc, you must tell me how worried you were over me, i think i deserve to know.” 
the red-haired rolls his eyes before dragging you down the hilly path back home. you are perhaps the only one in mondstadt who could perplex him to no end, but that is just another testament of the love he holds for you. 
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© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.
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hedgehog-moss · 2 months
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Ant lovers, this is not the post for you, I'm sorry.
I have a big anthill in the worst location, between my house and the greenhouse, so that the ants are invading me on two different fronts! Over the past two months or so I've tried a lot of methods to make the ants feel unwelcome, from the humane Earth Mother approach to more aggressive ones, but nothing worked. Flooding them with water. Then boiling water. Dish soap. Vinegar. Diatomaceous earth, which usually solves just about every problem. The ants did not care. I tried asking, then suggesting, then bargaining, then insisting, then threatening, then
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Sorry, ants. You should have taken my threats seriously.
I meant to wait until everything was fully consumed before extinguishing the fire, but then I realised I was out of dog food (when you buy one of these 20kg bags of kibble you always feel like it'll never run out and then it does in the most unexpected and untimely manner, every time). I had time to pop by the store before it closed, and by this point the fire was just a few embers left at the bottom of the tragic moon crater that used to be a magnificent ant palace. You can see my chickens keeping an eye on it from above:
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I fully trust my chickens but still, before I left I went to tell the carpenter working in my barn today that I've been burning an anthill, the fire is almost out but could he glance out the window every now and then while I'm in town, and maybe go and throw a bucket of water if he sees my house engulfed in flames? I'm just going on a quick, half-hour errand.
He agreed, so I left.
I ran into the librarian at the grocery shop, who of course invited me over for a cup of tea. It's genuinely impossible to say no to such offers—I mean, you say no and then you end up at the librarian's house having tea anyway. You'd think the possibility of my house and llamas going up in flames if I don't go home to monitor the embers would be a foolproof excuse to get out of a tea invitation, but there are no excuses. The librarian wanted me to taste the giant cookie she baked and she wanted to talk about something stupid our president said or did recently and I had no choice but to follow her.
But it's okay, the carpenter and the hens are on top of the situation!
Still, I felt antsy (sorry) as I sat in the librarian's kitchen and watched her feed Pandolf cookie crumbs. (She had some crumbs set aside for her own dog, but her dog is tiny and scared of Pandolf so she remained at the other end of the kitchen, intensely interested in the unattainable cookie crumbs, mentally willing Pandolf to disappear from her kitchen, vibrating with despair, the picture of anguish.)
I tried to use Pandolf as a pretext to cut my visit short, but I had zero cooperation from my traitor dog. "We've been gone a while, he probably needs to pee!"
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The librarian asked me about the carpentry stuff going on in my barn right now and I didn't want to start a whole new conversation which would inevitably lead to half a dozen anecdotes about construction work, when I'd already had such trouble wrapping up the let's-trash-talk-Macron conversation (it's not that I don't want to trash talk Macron. But my house was burning, maybe.)
I tried to point out again that my house was probably ashes by now and the librarian said serenely, "Well, your carpenter will feel obligated to hurry up and finish the job much faster if you have no house anymore and must move into the barn."
I agreed that there's an upside to everything, but still. I had to go.
Just as I was leaving the librarian's house, I saw the carpenter's car entering town. I waved at him and he stopped and opened the window and told me everything was going well, and I said, "And the fire? It must be out by now."
"What fire?"
He had absolutely not checked the fire. (He was standing next to a noisy machine when I made my request so it's possible he didn't hear me well and figured I was checking on his work and just went "Yeah, all good!") (I'm trying to be fair)
And yes, okay, it was just a few embers at the bottom of a pit with heavy, wet winter earth all around, but I'm a pessimist so I threw Pandolf into my car and drove home at full speed. For some reason what I pictured during this quick, worried drive home was ant payback. A long line of determined ants stretching from their ravaged anthill to my house, each one of them carrying a tiny burning twig. I don't think two chickens would be enough to suppress that.
When I reached my dirt road, I couldn't see my house from afar but could see a plume of smoke in the middle of the woods. It looked pretty small, but still, I was relieved when I got closer and found that the smoke rose from the exact location of the anthill and nowhere else.
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I'd taken precautions, like wetting the earth around the pit and choosing a day when some rain was expected in the evening, but a lot of forces conspired to ensure the embers were left unattended, from a forgetful (or confused) carpenter to Pandolf's love of cookie crumbs and the librarian's inescapable friendliness. (She whatsapped me to ask if my house was on fire and I said (jokingly) no, but no thanks to you!! And she was a bit contrite and said, it's Macron :( we spent too long on this topic... And I said no I know, of course I blame Macron and she sent me a handshake emoji)
The ants were not in an avenging mood btw, they were teeming around the crater looking quite defeated, it made me sad. (But I hope they're defeated.) I didn't throw my bucket of water over it straight away because I was a bit fascinated by the inside of the anthill, from up close it looked like the Mines of Moria.
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I crouched down next to the ants and we wordlessly watched the last embers slowly die as night fell over the pasture. It was very atmospheric until Pirlouit started braying with absolute fury because it was almost dark and his evening hay was still nowhere to be seen.
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spacedace · 27 days
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Still thinking about the Social Worker Jazz concept that @gilbirda posted about and it's slowly turning into a full Anger Management fic send help
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Jason at length - much longer than it really should have taken really - set the resume down.
The new Social Worker’s resume. Because she was there, in his office, trying to convince him to hire her as a member of his criminal organization.
Crime Alley’s new social worker. A bright eyed Midwestern transplant from some tiny speck of a place that only qualified as a city because there was nothing bigger in a hundred miles in any direction to claim otherwise. The new social worker who had a Psy D. and three masters degrees and who had graduated Valedictorian. The one that had high paying private gigs lined up all over the country with the offering companies fighting over her.
The one who had, apparently, decided to take a shit job in Gotham’s shoddy social services department instead. The one that got kicked to Crime Alley - which was its own division despite technically being a small neighborhood in the grand scheme of things - within her first month. Supposedly for the sole purpose of scaring her off or getting her killed for all the questions she was asking and secret dealings she was sticking her nose into.
That social worker.
“I’m gonna need you to run this by me again.” Jason said, never so grateful for the voice modulator in his helmet as he was in that moment. It stripped out the bewilderment that had bled through into his words and made him sound stoic instead.
“I’d like to work for you.” The social worker - one Dr. Jasmine Nightingale - repeated primly. Back straight, clothes neat - if skewing more on the librarian side of professional - expression confident and hopeful. Completely and utterly oblivious of how fucking insane she sounded. “I was told that you’re the person in charge of Crime Alley.”
He resisted the urge to scrub at his face. It’d just look weird with his helmet on and not do anything to actually settle him in that moment anyway. “I understood that part.”
“Look, Doc,” She earned a doctorate and she was crazy enough to waltz into the office of one of Gotham’s most powerful Crime Lords, he’d be respectful about using her proper title at least, even if he suspected she was ten pounds of crazy in a five pound bag. “You’re going to have to tell me why. I was under the impression the only reason you ended up dumped on our end of the city ws because you wouldn’t play ball. But now you want to sign up for my crew?”
Nightingale frowned a little at that.
“Is that what people are saying?”
“What else are they gonna say?” Jason answered, leaning back in his seat, “Head of the department only dumps Crime Alley on folks he don’t like. And everyone knows he doesn’t like anyone that can’t or won’t play his game by his rules.”
“Alright, well. I’ll give you that.” Nightingale conceded, “Payne doesn’t like me. The feeling’s mutual. But for the record,” She added giving him a wry smile, as if sharing wry smiles with Red Hood was just something people did, “I asked to be assigned to the Park Row and Bowery neighborhoods.”
“You wanted to work here.”
“Yes.”
“Bullshit.”
Nightingale laughed. It was a bright sound. Not especially clear or pretty, but warm and welcoming in a way that carefully calculated giggles or overdone guffaws couldn’t be. Something with real and honest amusement in it, that encouraged those nearby to laugh along. Not the kind of involuntary, nervous chuckling people tended to slip into when they thought they had pissed someone that scared them off.
She just wasn’t intimidated by him at all, was she?
Behind his helmet, Jason found himself smiling. Just a bit.
“I’m serious.” She assured, blue-green eyes meeting the dark stare of his helmet without a moment of hesitation. He watched as she brushed a lock of her bright red hair behind her ear and out of the way. She’d woven it all into a practical, neat braid but a few sly pieces had snuck out to bounce around her. Gilding her quiet professionalism with a playful charm that worked well with her academia but make it cottagecore kindergarten teacher aesthetic.
“I’ll admit, Gotham wasn’t part of my plan when I first graduated. Time and choices take you funny places sometimes.” She plucked an invisible bit of lint off her soft blue cardigan, not nervous but absent as her gaze went distant for a moment. Thinking back on the events that had led her to his fine city. In a blink, those sharp eyes were back to focusing entirely on him. “But Gotham is where I am now, and I want to help.”
She looked at him, a serious, determined expression settling easily on her face. “The city as a whole has so much chaos and crime breaking out all the time.” No censure or horror in her voice, just a neutral fact to be observed. “But where the rest of the city has millions of dollars poured into it by various foundations or charities run by the Waynes, Park Row is largely ignored.”
Jason watched as steeliness sharpened her gaze, the blue-green shifting from the shine of a bird’s wing to the warning hue of something poisonous and deadly. “No one deserves that. No one.” Her chin tilted up, proud but not imperious. “So yes, I want to work here. There are people in Park Row and the Bowery who need help and I refuse to let any of them feel like they are going to be ignored.”
Jason considered her.
Really looked at her. Pealing back his initial off handed impression of her as some clueless transplant in over her head with no idea of what she was doing or what she was poking her nose into to find the real woman beneath. Her confident poise, her clear unshakable belief, her unflinching willingness to look danger in the eye and not blink. The tense curve of her frown, the lines of pain at the corners of her eyes, the simmering anger beneath it all. There was an edge to her, too. Something sharp and dangerously well hidden by the cardigan and folksy charm of her accent.
It was personal for the woman before him, Jason realized. Maybe not Crime Alley specifically, but something about the whole situation. The treatment the neighborhood and its residents received from the city at large, from those even beyond it.
Crime Alley wasn’t a place that received much in the way of charitable thought. The average joe with their house in Somerset and job at some corporate shithole hating every second of their life but thinking at least I don’t live in Crime Alley. Those asshole hoity-toites in city hall throwing money around equally between shit that’d get them re-elected and their off-shore slush funds in the Caymens doing their damn level best to pretend the black mark on the other end of the city just didn’t exist. Bruce, flooding the entire city with charitable programs and carefully constructed infrastructures shying away from the manifested grief and trauma that was the place he watched his parents get murdered.
For the most part no one from outside of the Alley gave a shit about the Alley other than as a place to avoid at all costs. And most of the time those natives that manages to claw their way out into better and brighter lives didn’t ever turn to glance back. Orpheus could have learned a thing or to from an ex-Alley Kid who managed to eek out a steady 9-to-5 and move to Burnley.
And something about that seemed to piss Dr. Jasmine Nightingale Psy. D right the fuck off.
He could see why Bill said he liked her enough to let her in.
“Alright.” He said, tilting his head, watching the woman seated across from him carefully, “Still doesn’t explain what you’re doing here. Why you’re trying to get on my payroll.”
“I’m not trying to get on your payroll.” She said, some of the glinting edge softening, but the steel remaining. Strong and unyielding. “I’m trying to get into your community outreach program.”
Jason thanked god and all the saints once again for the gift of his helmet. That baby had saved his ass more times than he could count both by keeping his head in one piece and keeping his stupefied expressions wrapped up and hidden from view. Dr. Nightingale was one hell of a woman to make him have to rely on that fact twice in one conversation.
“Wasn’t aware that was something I had.”
Nightingale, not fortunate enough to have a full face covering helmet of her own, had nothing to hide her stupefied expression behind. Jason had a feeling she might have removed it to make sure he saw even if she did though. She looked like she had caught him eating glue like it was a cheese stick.
“Yes you do.” She said, sounding deeply confused but unshakable confident in what she was saying. “I’ve seen it. The soup kitchens, the shelters, the collection boxes for donating old clothes, the after school day care.” Nightingale ticked off on her fingers, “I’ve lived here for less than two weeks and I’ve lost count of all the things I’ve seen setup to help people struggling in the area that I’ve been very reliably informed you and your organization are behind.”
Oh.
Those.
“Those aren’t part of some community outreach program.” He said, “We are simply locals offering services for our neighbors.”
He watched as her caught-him-eating-glue expression shifted into one that said she’d stumbled upon him licking electrical sockets for a mid-day pick-me-up instead. He had to give it to her, the woman was not afraid to let one of the most dangerous men in the city know she thought he was a fucking idiot.
“Let me see if I understand this right.” She said, and he appreciated that there wasn’t any kind of condescension in her voice, even though she very clearly thought he’d been dropped on his head as a baby. Possibly from the top of a three story building. “You have a large group of people working together to plan, organize and execute multiple services in your area - your community, if you will - that provide aid and support to those that otherwise would not receive it. Reaching out with your available time and resources to offer these services, that you provide. For free.”
Alright, Jason got it. He had stumbled ass backwards into creating a community outreach program. But he wasn’t just going to let her think she won this one. He was Red Hood, he had a reputation to uphold here.
“What makes you think any of that is free?” He tilted his head at just the right angle, the one that cast shadows across the planes of his helmet and made him look hell-touched and terrifying. “Just because we don’t charge money, doesn’t mean there isn’t a price to pay.”
Dr. Nightingale, dressed like a damn kindergarten teacher, laughed at him.
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clockwayswrites · 25 days
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City Pigeons Bleed Green - Part 13
Cass looked up as Jason came out of Danny’s room. He looked better.
After Danny had been stabilized, Cass had taken Jason away from the safe house and to Jason’s place with the gym in the basement. She knew what it was like to have that need to act— to hurt to ruin to end— burning under her skin. She gave Jason the fight that he needed, letting him punch and kick until they were both covered in bruises and he was shaking apart in her arms.
Today he looked better.
“N is going to stay with Danny,” Jason said with a little nod backwards.
Dick, Jason, Tim, and herself had all been taking turns staying with their new brother. He was sleeping a lot right then; he was waking with nightmares a lot too. Waking up with one of them touching him seemed to help him calm the quickest so they took turns staying close.
“Red?” Cass asked with a little tilt of her head.
Jason glanced at the clock on the oven as he opened the fridge. He wasn’t really hungry, but eating out of habit. “He’ll be over here in two hours, I he doesn’t get distracted.”
“Be nice. Red cares. He’ll be here,” she said.
Jason seemed to settle on something and popped the top off before throwing it in the microwave. “Yeah… yeah. Danny’s pretty much wormed his way into all of our hearts, hasn’t he?”
“Yes. Will for rest too.”
Jason snorted. “As if he already hasn’t with B. They didn’t need to meet for that. You know how the old man is, a real bleeding heart of stone.”
Cass rolled her eyes and ordered again, “Be nice.”
Jason frowned at her but she just smiled serenely back until he rolled his eyes. It was a win enough for her.
The heated food was set on a trivet between them and Jason stuck two forks in it.
“I’m thinking we get O in here in a few days,” he said around his own large bite of lasagna. “Danny is healing better this time, but we don’t know what sort of set back this will cause mentally and all. Having another set of hands would be good.”
“O will like him.”
“Course she will,” Jason said with almost a scoff.
“No O and Red,” Cass added thoughtfully after she had chewed her own bite. This was definitely Jason lasagna and not Alfred lasagna.
“Yeah… I don’t think I’m going to trust those three in a room together for a long time,” Jason said with a dawning sort of horror. “Danny took apart the remote here and now it has buttons for services I didn’t even know existed. I swear it will change shows on its own too if no one is paying attention to it. It’s useful, I guess, but a little creepy.”
“Ghost brother,” Cass said with a little shrug.
Jason’s eyes narrowed before he let out an exhausted sounding sigh. “I hate that you might be right. Our controller could be haunted now.”
“Alas poor Yorick?”
“Wrong character,” Jason said, pointing with his fork, “but that is a play with a ghost in it so good job.”
Cass smiled happily at the praise. “Once Red is here, you and me errands?”
“You just want to buy Danny another present,” Jason said, jabbing his fork in her direction.
“Yes,” she said with zero shame.
Jason rolled his eyes. “Fine, but we have to do groceries too.”
-
Babs had been warned that Danny was still very skittish, but he hadn’t actually expected him to freeze like a scared rabbit when she came into the apartment. She stopped rolling forward and moved her hands to where he could see them both clearly.
“Hi Danny,” she said with her kindest librarian voice that she had. “I’m Oracle. It’s nice to finally meet you.”
Danny shook his head, the motion ran through him like a shudder and whatever had frozen him shook off him like water off a dog. His smile was still shaky though, so Babs didn’t think that whatever the reaction had been was completely done.
“Hi, Oracle.” His voice was soft, rough, a little broken.
She’d heard from a number of the bats about the latest development and the trauma that went with it, but it as still something to see someone that looked like a young Bruce covered in bandages and looking more than worse for the wear.
“Are you alright if I come in? If you aren’t, that’s alright. I’ll just talk with Nightwing in the hall for a little.”
“No, you can come in,” Danny said, sitting up a little straighter. His eyes flicked over her again. “It’s just… your hair reminded me of someone is all. No one… no one bad.”
Babs offered him a smile and came the rest of the way into the apartment. “If that changes, just let me know.”
“It’s fine, really,” Danny said, though the words were still a little bit of a whisper.
“Well then,” Dick said, interrupting the end of the oddly tense moment, “Babs, do you want any hot chocolate?”
“Thank you, but without the mountain of whip cream I know you liked to put on it,” she said, giving Dick a playful glare.
He shrugged unrepentantly. “Danny?”
“Yes please,” he said. He was fussing with the blanket he had been sitting under, folding it up just so.
Babs moved towards the kitchen to give him a little bit of space and the illusion of some privacy.
‘What was that about?’ Babs asked Dick silently through raised eye brows, a slightly twisted frown, and a subtle nod towards the living room.
‘Not a damn clue,’ is what Dick’s shrug said back.
It almost made Babs sigh.
Danny was still a complete mystery to her. While they were being good and had avoided taking blood or fingerprints from Danny, Barbara had at least been trying to find Danny’s path through the city. She’d been saying for days now that the boy was like a ghost.
She just didn’t expect that to be as literal as it was.
The nickname had lost any of its fun.
“Danny, whipped cream for you?” Dick asked.
Danny’s eyes darted from Dick to Babs.
“Oh, feel free to have it like N,” Babs said with a smile. “I just don’t have the sweet tooth that he does.”
“She never has, it’s tragic,” Dick said with a sigh as he started to warm a pot of milk. “So, whipped cream.”
“Um, yes,” Danny said.
“I will take sprinkles though,” Babs said. “Do you have the little—”
“Bats?” Dick scoffed. “Of course I have the little bats. You can’t have proper hot chocolate without the little bat sprinkles.”
“Of course not,” words serious but unable to help the little smile that she sported.
“You all really like the theme, don’t you?” Danny asked, though he was smiling too now.
“The boy in the hoddie with the Bat logo on it does not get to talk,” Dick said and tossed a large marshmallow at Danny with pin point accuracy.
Danny caught it effortlessly and started to pull it apart with a little shrug. “Hood got if for me as a present.”
“Of course he did,” Tim said as he finally emerged from wherever he had been tucked away. He handed the tablet he was carrying over to Danny before he sat down in the neighboring armchair. “He’s just trying to claim you first, as if him and I didn’t find you together.”
“Hot chocolate, Red?” Dick asked while Danny was busy looking bewildered at that.
“Sure, but add some coffee to it?” Tim asked.
“No,” Dick replied far too cheerfully. “But seriously Dandelion, a Bat logo from a Bat means something.”
Danny’s face scrunched up at that and he looked down at himself. “I don’t think… he was trying to claim me?”
Babs snorted. “Oh, trust us, he was absolutely claiming you. He probably felt that he had to do something material to even start to compete with B.B., as if he wasn’t cooking for you all the time.”
Danny stared back at her with wide blue eyes. The open surprise and desperate want was odd to see on someone that looked so much like Bruce. Damian certainly never let himself appear that way.
“And Red is already souping up your tablet, I’m assuming— though if you really want an improvement let me see it,” she continued, talking over Tim’s little snort, “and N is making you the special hot chocolate. Even Signal is thinking what he can get you and Spoiler is whining that she hasn’t met you yet.”
“She is getting so annoying,” Tim whined while Danny stuffed the shredded marshmallow in his mouth, likely to get out of saying anything. He looked more than a little teary eyed. Tim gave him the out by continuing, “We’ll have her over one morning when she’ll be tired and easily distracted by waffles. You’re not up for the full Spoiler experience yet.”
“Trust Red on that,” Dick interjected as he stirred the coco, “he dated her.”
“I don’t know what either of us were thinking,” Tim said with a sigh. “We are both way too high maintenance in different ways for it to have worked.”
“You were still waiting for you bi awakening, baby bird, you were missing out on half the options,” Dick said. He dropped one of the oversized marshmallows in each of the four mugs before pouring the scalding hot chocolate over it.
Babs left him to his sorcery and wheeled over to the couch before working her way onto it. Danny helpfully moved the blanket out of the way and then offered it back after. She draped it carefully over her legs.
“So what did Red do to your tablet?”
“I actually didn’t do anything,” Tim said, and then had to pause. “Well, not after I gave it to Danny at least. I was just making sure everything was still good. Danny’s been tinkering with it.”
Danny gave a little shrug and picked at the edge of his hoodie.
“Do you like engineering then? Or inventing?” Babs asked, trying to encourage Danny to open up a little.
“Yeah, my— I—, I mean…” Danny stumbled over his words. He lost some of his color with each false start until he was worryingly grey. He swallowed thickly. “Yeah, I used to at least.”
“Danny, hot chocolate,” Dick said with impeccable timing as always.
Danny whispered a thanks and took the almost overflowing mug. He could basically hide behind the mound of whipped cream and he definitely tried to. Babs took the offered mug with a much more modest dollop but an absurd amount of bat sprinkles. Her lips twitched up in a smile as she took a sip.
Tim’s portion was somewhere in between Bab’s and Danny and of course Dick’s was practically laughable. It’s a wonder he didn’t make an absolute mess of himself drinking it as they argued over a movie to watch. It was clever of the Bats, really, they had started to narrow down how long Danny had been a test subject by what movies he had seen or not.
It was somewhere between seventeen and twenty-three months.
Nearly two years.
They were all lucky that Danny had made it out at all. They all knew the statistics of something like that.
Hot chocolate turned into dinner turned into Danny cuddling Dick on the couch and eventually resting against Bab’s legs. A good sign about her acceptance, according to the birds.
“Oracle?”
Babs had thought that Danny was asleep. She reached out to run the tips of her fingers through his hair. The lights from the movie that was still playing glinted off her pink nails. “Yes, Danny?”
“If I asked… would you be able to find someone for me?”
She tilted her head. “The person that I remind you of?”
“Yes. Just… just so that I know she’s okay.”
“Is she in danger?”
“No, she’s not like me. She’s…” Danny cut himself off, swallowing back the words.
“But you’d still like to know.”
“Yes.”
Babs hummed. It was technically an abuse of her powers, but they were something she abused all the time. “Yes, if you ask me to, I can find out if she’s okay.”
“Okay. I’ll… maybe I’ll ask. Thank you.”
“Of course, Danny.”
---
AN: I struggled with this chapter at first, but it was because I was jumping right to Barbara meeting Danny and not giving the others some more time to deal with the change in Danny. They still haven't really dealt with it, right now they're focused on healing and getting more help through Babs being around.
All our poor Bat's. So attached already and so traumatized.
But not as traumatized as Danny...
Stay delightful, darlings!
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I JUST GOT A BOOK FROM THE LIBRARY !!!!!!!!! IVE NEVER DONE THAT BEFORE !!!!!!!!!!
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