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#maybe two
wizardflowers · 7 months
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Bad things are approaching! Brace yourself!
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nachosforfree · 5 months
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Why did this scare me so bad
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britcision · 1 year
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Ahem… anyway… THE GALA BEGINS! Available on AO3, linked in the first chapter
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—————-
Party At Brucie’s
Jason had been added to the Team Phantom group chat pretty much immediately on return from the Ghost Zone.
And maybe Danny hadn’t been the most tactful, but he’d sure as shit made Jason laugh.
‘DannyP: New halfa just dropped!! *DannyP has added JTodd to the chat*’
Jason then got to spend a couple hours explaining the situation and watching Sam and Tucker roast Danny to within an inch of his life about it.
He liked the Team Phantom group chat. Definitely preferred it over the Wayne family group chat or the Bat Chat for those few days leading up to the gala.
Fucking Dick sending pictures of him.
Red Hood was NOT cute. No matter what any of them said. He was just glad Dick had been considerate enough to crop it to his own face, not showing Danny’s.
Small mercies.
He’d have avoided Wayne manor until the last second if he hadn’t known he’d then have to deal with them at the gala, in front of Danny.
So, the morning after the photo (and his brief, apparently unnoticed sojourn to another dimension) he made his way back to the mansion, wondering idly what he’d be doing if the pit rage wasn’t a still a soft, gentle ball of calm.
He could see himself being pissed he’d been spied on. Turned it into something dark and nasty.
As it was… well, he was mildly annoyed. Maybe just the tiniest, ittiest bittiest bit touched Dick had come to check on him.
Mostly? Dread. Apprehension, really. They weren’t gonna hurt him or do anything nasty.
Buuuuut Jason remembered being an Extreme Little Shit to Dick when he was crushing on Babs, and while he totally, absolutely did not have a crush on his new king…
Well, it was a cute picture. Smiling, blushing Jason, and even he had a hard time believing it was of him.
It looked like he had a crush.
But really it was exertion from the wrestling just before it was taken, definitely for sure.
He wasn’t gonna argue that though; it’d be admitting the idea had merit beyond just dismissing it.
He’d managed to wake up in time (after chatting with Danny’s friends online into the night) for Alfred’s pancakes, and that’d make up for damn near anything, even Steph being home.
She didn’t always stay at the manor, but there was a chance she’d crashed out for those same sweet heavenly pancakes.
Jason had another mission now anyway, and the good news was that Bruce would be home; no one in business got shit done in the week between Christmas and the New Year.
The bad news was… Bruce would be home, Jason would have to talk to him.
Joy.
But for Alfred’s pancakes Jason would fight the devil himself, with his bangin’ new gun to boot.
(He’d taken the time to have a longer look at that too; a Colt revolver, not quite his usual machine pistols, but classic. It had a satisfying weight in his hand and was a neat matte black, with just the strangest hint of red light flickering across it.
Danny said the sword burned green in its owner’s hand; something to check out at the range. Maybe in the cave. And, apparently, it was definitely non lethal.
Knowing this because Danny’d seen people stabbed with the sword version did not reassure Jason.)
The table was mostly empty when Jason arrived, which wasn’t exactly a shock. Duke was in, and he gave Jason a half shy smile and nodded.
They hadn’t interacted much; Duke was new, and he was Gotham’s daytime hero, while Jason still preferred to patrol at night. Still, he’d helped out a couple times.
They got along, even when Jason was at odds with the rest of the bat clan.
And his phone was on the table, likely with the group chat on it.
Jason gave him a nod and a half smile of his own as he took his seat. Not right next to Duke; the table was big and empty, he didn’t wanna crowd. He sat across from him instead, so they could talk.
“You can ask,” he said by way of greeting, tipping back to grin at Alfred as the man brought him a stack, “and you are the real hero, Alfie.”
Duke hid a grin in his juice as Alfred raised an eyebrow at Jason, not quite in reprimand.
“As you say, Master Jason,” the butler said calmly, setting down his plate. “You were missed at dinner. Twice.”
Jason made a face and shrugged, knowing full well what Alfred actually meant. He hadn’t actually decided how much he wanted to tell them about Danny yet.
Alfred? Alfred he trusted without question or reservation. Even to keep secrets from Bruce, if he didn’t think it would hurt someone.
But if Bruce knew he told Alfred something and not him, he’d pout. And while Jason wouldn’t have to deal with it, the others would, and Jason dealt with them.
For now, it was better to keep anything ghost related quiet. Bruce would want to know absolutely everything, and frankly?
Just once, Jason would like a handle on something first. Just this once, he wanted to know what was going on with his body. With his life.
It wasn’t that much to ask.
So he gave Alfred a sheepish smile, half wishing he could just put a hand on the man’s shoulder. Touching with Danny was so easy, he hadn’t realised how much casual touch was missing from his life.
“Yeah, sorry about that. Wasn’t exactly myself, so I figured I’d keep out of everyones’ hair.” He wasn’t expecting the worried look Duke gave him as he turned back to the table.
Wary? That’d make sense. They were all fucking pros at talking around the pit rage, and Jason knew they all expected him to lose it at some point.
He had. More than once.
“Are you feeling better now?” Duke asked softly, not quite able to make eye contact and poking at his pancakes instead.
Jason took a moment to just. Enjoy the warmth that rose from the simple question. No worrying it was fake, no green hunting for ulterior motives.
His brother cared. It could be that simple.
He spread his hands and smiled, shrugging.
“Good as I can be. Figured I’d come back and socialise since I have a party to go to this weekend. Are you coming?” Fuck, was it really tomorrow?
Duke studied his face for a long moment (being in the detective family was finally getting to him, Jason knew that squint) then smiled back.
“Nah, I’m working before and after. I got a conveniently timed lead,” he added smugly, leaning back in his seat.
Jason made the appropriate noises of jealousy and Duke chuckled, shaking his head.
“Hey, I have another three weeks to go to beat Damian’s record, and I haven’t even stabbed anyone. I’ll come to your next one,” he promised. Paused again.
Coming to a decision, he leaned in across the table and beckoned Jason to join him. Shifting his plate aside, Jason did so, wondering what Duke wouldn’t want overheard.
“It seems like the pit’s been worse lately,” the younger man said softly, finally meeting Jason’s eye, “are you okay?”
And oh, apparently since the pit itself was still in post-Danny bliss, Jason’s regular emotions were going to choke him. Lovely.
He forced a smile, leaning back so there was half a chance Duke might not read it in his face. For half a second, he considered telling the truth.
Buuuuut the truth would get complicated real quick.
“It’s been bad,” he agreed, keeping his voice level with all the stubbornness that propelled him to the Far Frozen, “but it’s gonna be fine. I’ve got a new strategy and it’s getting it back under control.”
Duke didn’t quite follow his lead right away, sharp eyes scanning every inch of Jason’s posture. Fuck, if Dick was here, Tim, maybe even Cass?
He’d be screwed. Just had to hope Duke wasn’t at that level of intrusive bastard yet.
Whatever he saw, it settled him enough that he relaxed as he leaned back, crossing one ankle onto his knee and grinning.
“And would this strategy have anything to do with a hundred pound twink throwing you around?” He asked, suddenly cheeky.
Jason’s cheeks flushed at just the memory and his smile spread, becoming something more real.
“Fuck, I said you could ask, didn’t I?” He groaned melodramatically, letting his head drop back for a moment before getting back to his pancakes.
Letting them go cold would be worse than a sin.
“You did,” Duke confirmed, a hint of laughter in his voice.
There was a lot of laughter in Jason’s life lately. It felt really good to notice that. Swallowing a large bite of syrupy goodness he thought about Danny for a moment.
Danny and everything he’d learned both from and because of him. A soft, sappy smile stretched across his face entirely without his noticing.
“Yeah. It does.”
Duke considered snapping another quick pic for the group chat. But honestly… it was just nice to see, and he hoped whatever it was worked.
Duke had seen people struggle with addiction, some of whom never found out who spiked their first dose. It wasn’t the same, but… he hated seeing people fighting something beyond their control.
On impulse he reached across the table and patted Jason’s hand.
“Then I’m happy for you man. Right up until Dick gets here,” he added as loud steps descended the stairs towards them, debating fleeing the room himself.
Some of the rowdier birds still managed to surprise him, but. Fuck it. He had to get used to it some time.
Jason groaned and shovelled another large bite of pancake into his mouth, speaking as he chewed.
“Dick’s here?”
The eldest usually went back to Bludhaven at the end of the night, to his own place and his cop job and… aaaaand Dick had taken the day off to help Jason get a fucking suit.
Of course.
He’d forgotten, possibly by sheer optimism. He didn’t have time to lament the slip before Dick charged into the kitchen, spotted him, and slammed into the chair beside him hard enough that it skidded over and hit his own.
“Jaybird! I thought I heard your voice! Tell me everything about your new boyfriend, is he nice? Do we get to meet him? What’s his name?” He asked without pausing for breath, resting his chin on Jason’s shoulder and grinning.
Jason stared him dead in the eye and took a slow, deliberate bite of pancake. Across the table Duke snickered, toying with his juice.
Dick groaned as loudly as he could, flopping back into his own seat as Alfred brought him a stack of his own.
“Awwww, c’mon Jaaaaaaaay, you know you wanna tell me everything! Is he coming to the gala? We can bring him suit shopping, I have Bruce’s card and he’ll never notice a second charge,” he wheedled, reaching for syrup without glancing at the table.
Duke pushed the bottle closer to his hand, giving Jason an entirely unapologetic shrug.
“You’re the one who said we could ask,” he pointed out innocently. Dick gasped in delight and Jason pointed his fork at the younger man.
“I said you could ask,” he corrected, stifling a grin when Dick pressed a hand to his chest, feigning injury.
Yeah, he and Danny would get along just fine. Drama queens the both of them.
Shit, Danny had black hair and blue eyes too, maybe Jason should keep him away from Bruce. Could you adopt a king?
“Jason! Little Wing! You’re not gonna tell our baby brother and not me!” Dick proclaimed dramatically, breaking off that train of thought.
Duke grinned wider, leaning over to grab a jug and refill his juice.
“Hey, I’m the cute one,” he said smugly as Dick protested. Jason chuckled, taking advantage of the distraction to finish the last of his pancakes.
He snagged Duke’s empty plate as well while the two argued, Dick utterly insistent that he was still the cute one, Duke calling him cute for the nursing home, and filled the dishwasher.
Alfred gave him a raised eyebrow from the stove, another set of pancakes already underway, and Jason shrugged.
“It’s quieter over here,” he said innocently, turning to lean back against the counter and watch his oldest and newest siblings fight.
Alfred made a low hum of approval, expertly flipping a pancake.
“You were always the quiet one, Master Jason,” the older man agreed and Jason almost argued before looking back to the table.
Compared to Dick? Yeah he kinda was. Jason could semi-reliably be persuaded to sit still with a book. Dick wouldn’t sit still if he wasn’t upside down.
Best to put him out of his misery though.
Giving Alfred a half smile, Jason made his way back to the table and swung back into his seat.
“Alright, fuckwits, you’re both adorable, now shut up or I won’t tell you shit.”
Dick’s mouth slammed shut immediately as he turned, leaning on the table and watching Jason wide eyed. Duke, eyes crinkled with laughter, leaned back in his chair and raised both hands.
Satisfied that he had their attention, Jason opened his mouth to give them some basics, then hesitated.
He’d been planning on asking Bruce if he could add a plus one to the list, so Danny’s friend Tucker could come and say hi. Just a friend.
He didn’t know much about the guy, except that he was fucking hilarious and worshipped the ground Tim walked on, but he didn’t know much about Danny either.
Buuuuut, if his siblings were all gonna be gushing fuckheads… it couldn’t hurt to mess them around a little. Schooling his smile into innocence, he turned his cup between his hands.
“I’m gonna ask Bruce today if he can come. He’s got a suit,” (Jason fervently hoped, but when they’d made the plan it hadn’t come up) “but you’ll all meet him at the gala.”
Duke groaned and flopped back in his chair, dropping his cup.
“Aw fuck, that’s not fair. Just three more weeks, Jason!” He complained, and Jason hid a grin in his own juice.
Tucker’s reaction the night before had been pretty similar; annoyed he wouldn’t get to meet the new halfa with the others. Too bad Duke wasn’t coming. There’d be more of their own class than at any other gala ever.
Dick was about as sympathetic as Danny and Sam had been too, grinning over at Duke and pointing with his knife.
“Hey, no one’s forcing you to go for Damian’s record for longest without attending a gala, Duke.”
Duke stuck his tongue out at Dick and sighed, glancing around.
“Yeah, but you guys don’t exactly make it sound fun. And if I go to one, neither of you assholes live at the manor anymore, and Bruce’ll expect me to show up for more. Can’t he meet you here, Jay?” He wheedled, trying the puppy eyes.
Sucks to be him, Jason spends half his time with the Alley kids and they were smaller, cuter, and more likely to kick him in the shins.
“Sorry Narrows, he’s coming in from out of town tomorrow. I’d bring him after but you’ll be in bed,” Jason teased and Duke groaned again.
Dick frowned, cocking his head.
“Wait, he’s gone out of town? He was here last night, why not stay?” He asked, looking for pieces to put together.
Luckily this was an easy one. Jason just shrugged.
“Gotta go get his suit. Apparently not everyone brings the good three piece to college,” he added and Dick grinned, shaking his head.
“Already going? My you’re certain Bruce’ll say yes,” he laughed and Jason grinned, spreading his hands.
“It’s my party, and it’s not like the venue charges by the head. I just gotta get his name on the list.”
“Hey, if I don’t get to meet him early, I want all the juicy details,” Duke cut in, pointing seriously at Dick. “You gotta tell me everything that happens.”
Dick raised his hand in a boy scout salute, which none of them had been. Jason only barely recognised it.
“Your words, my bond little man. I’ll even get you a pic of Jay and his date all gussied up,” he swore and Jason rolled his eyes.
“What makes you think we’re taking pictures?” He asked mostly rhetorically. Dick shot him a wicked grin.
“What makes you think you’ll know I’m taking it?”
Which, fair, expected, and totally valid. They’d all been just as annoying when Tim and Connor finally got together. Dickie kept a scrapbook.
There was some more noise from upstairs now, footsteps getting closer, and Jason wondered how many people had stayed overnight. Usually the manor just held Bruce, Alfred, Damian, Cass, and Duke.
Maybe half of those would be going to a given gala, so Jason had been reasonably confident he could be in and out. From the sounds of it, either all three missing members were on their way down, or there were extras.
Seeing his expression, Dick shrugged.
“Tim’s bribe to escape the gala was three nights of Alfred-supervised sleep, Steph stayed over with Cass to gossip, and Damian had Jon over. You’ve got a full house to satisfy,” he explained, eyes bright with laughter.
Jason hesitated for only a moment, considering bailing. His siblings were fine, one or one or in small groups. All at once? A little overwhelming.
Someone always managed to set him off eventually.
Almost reflexively he reached for the pit. Felt its warm, gentle peace. And let his shoulders settle.
Why not give it a shot? See how much was just something else’s rage and how much was him not being able to handle them all.
And they were getting close. Leaning in, he lowered his voice and hissed to the other two.
“Wanna pretend I’ve already told you everything?” He hissed, and very much enjoyed watching both of his brothers’ eyes light up with mischief.
“Okay but you actually do have to later,” Duke hissed back, all three now watching the doors avidly for the first sight of bodies. Dick nodded eager agreement, finally making headway on his own breakfast.
Footsteps in the hall. Not long left.
“His name’s Danny, we met at my grave on the 24th, he loves space and puns, he goes to Gotham U and I’ll text you more later,” Jason said quickly, not missing the light that went on above Dick’s head, then pushed back in his chair and sitting casually. “Pretend I told a joke.”
Duke and Dick burst into immediate, mostly genuine laughter as they dropped into similar poses and Jason grinned, a wave of affection for both washing over him.
Like the universe itself was giving him a gift, it was Steph who burst into the kitchen next, Cass and Tim both at her heels. Steph’s eyes gleamed almost unnaturally when she caught sight of Jason.
“You’re here! Did you bring your danger twink?” She exclaimed eagerly, almost tackling Duke when she slammed into the chair next to him even harder than Dick hit Jason’s.
That pushed Jason to cackle as well, even as Cass came and draped herself over his shoulders.
“My fucking what?“ he asked, leaning back to give her more space. Steph stole Duke’s juice and chugged it.
“Your danger twink! Tim said he kicked your ass!” She exclaimed, ducking away from Duke’s revenge smack and grinning unrepentantly at Alfred.
The butler tutted but didn’t say anything as he delivered another two plates of pancakes, coming back a second later with cutlery and a replacement cup for Duke.
Jason shot Tim a Look that went mostly unnoticed by the younger man, who looked still about half asleep as he dug into a stack. Must have been needing those three nights, especially if he agreed to so many.
Before he had to form a response, Dick cut in with a broad grin, dropping his own cutlery on a cleared plate.
“Oh no, he didn’t bring Danny today. Kid’s gotta run home for his tux so Jason can bring him on a fancy date,” he cooed, waggling his eyebrows at Jason.
Steph gasped, slamming her fists down on the table and setting everything bouncing. A quick swipe from Duke saved the juice, Dick dived for the syrup, and Jason kicked back from the table and away from his own falling cup, Cass pulling her feet up to skid with him.
Tim, completely missing an attempted stab at his pancakes as the plate bounced, gave the table a very suspicious look. Alfred gave him a fond smile and started the coffee maker.
Steph ignored all consequences.
“JASON! You already told them about him?!” She squeaked, half way across the table.
“Should have been up early, you missed all the spoilers,” Duke teased, holding the juice up and away incase she turned on him.
Which she did, clearly thinking about tickling, and saw the juice perilously close to over her head. And reconsidered.
Unable to match that firepower, she settled on ignoring the comment as though it were beneath her. Which put Jason back in her line of fire.
Hooking an arm around behind the chair, he scooped Cass into his lap as a human shield. She settled obligingly into place, tapping his shoulder for attention as she signed.
‘Coming to gala?’
Must be a nonverbal day. Not that Jason minded; their present siblings were loud enough for a whole squadron on their own. He liked that she was different; liked that she’d missed touch as much as he had, and the way she’d never move away.
Cuddling with Cass was one of the reasons he’d come back to the family at all. And one of the main reasons he’d stayed.
Alfred didn’t comment, placing her plate and cutlery in front of Jason’s spot as he scooched them both back to the table. Once he was sure she was comfy, Jason let his arms fall around her waist so she could eat.
“Yeah, he’s coming, if I can get Bruce to put him on the guest list. Are you coming, Cass?”
She didn’t bother looking around at him, lowering her knife for a moment to sign a firm ‘yes’ and he grinned, resting his chin on top of her head.
“Steph?” He asked, cocking a brow at the blonde.
Steph narrowed her eyes at him, taking a slow and deliberate bite of pancake.
“This feels like a trap,” she complained through a mouthful of food, accepting Alfred’s withering look as he placed a fresh black coffee in front of Tim.
This did at least serve to bring Tim back to life, even if there was less than no effect on Steph.
“What’s a trap?” He asked muzzily, fighting a yawn and chugging the coffee in one.
“Coming to the gala to meet Jason’s new booooyfriend,” Dick teased, ruffling Tim’s hair as he ran his plate to the dishwasher.
The younger swatted at his hand a full ten seconds too late, then huffed and got back to his pancakes.
Jason wondered if Danny might have some magic ghost powers that’d get the little fucker to sleep. He’d be replacing Jason in a grave at this rate.
And no matter what he might have thought early on, Jason’d die again himself before letting that happen. Or bribe the king of the dead.
The mention of the gala also served to perk him up though, and he gave Jason a suspicious frown.
“So he is a new boyfriend?” He asked, straightening and scooting closer to the table to rejoin the land of the living.
Jason shrugged.
“He’s coming to the gala, once I talk to-”
“Well I know you’re not talking about one of your siblings, not if he’s coming willingly,” the man himself said from the door, smiling when he saw the table full of most of his brood.
Which on Bruce, meant a barely there twitch of the lips. One they all recognised but still.
Brucie Wayne had beaming smiles for days.
Jason stiffened minutely against an anticipated wave of green, and felt almost lightheaded when nothing happened. Nothing but Cass leaning back into him a little more, one hand coming to cover his at her hip.
Of course she noticed. Turning his hand into hers he gave it a reassuring squeeze, then nodded to Bruce.
“Yeah, I came by to ask if I could add a plus one to the guest list? He won’t be arriving with me but I’d like you all to meet him.”
Visible surprise passed across Bruce’s face, which was a fun rarity, and Jason hid a smirk. Which faltered in the face of an almost wistful look, there and gone so fast he might have missed it.
And then Bruce was just his usual stoic self again, taking his own seat at the table while Dick bartered for more pancakes. If he put some work into it he could probably get some enjoyment from the stick up his ass.
“It’s your party Jason, you can add whoever you want to the guest list,” Bruce said calmly, like Jason had had any input whatsoever on the list so far.
Ideally he’d have cut more than half of it, but the whole point was to reintroduce him to “high society”.
He was still semi-seriously considering Dick’s offer to find him a cotillion gown for the evening. Less so now that Danny was coming.
For now he just nodded, giving Cass a quick squeeze.
“Who else is coming from the family?” He asked, mostly to the rest of the table as he turned from Bruce.
It was too weird to look at him, waiting for the pit to rise and not feeling anything. He wasn’t even sure how much of it was his own actual anger and what was just anticipation.
Cass raised a hand again and he gave her a quick jostle with his knees, making her giggle.
“I know you are, smart ass.”
“Just Cass, as far as I-“ Bruce began, cut off almost immediately as Dick swooped in to grab his seat, fresh pancakes in hand. So much for the dishwasher.
“Me too! I’m coming, Jaybird’s been telling us alllllll about his new boyfriend and he sounds great,” he declared firmly, also very much relishing in the flicker of surprise across Bruce’s face.
Steph chewed her lip, visibly considering her options, then sighed heavily.
“Yeah, I’ll come,” she agreed with a huff, “Jason only told those two and I wanna see him too.”
Duke, the other of “those two” as marked by Steph’s fork, grinned and rose from the table, both hands in the air.
“I’m out, I’m gonna be patrolling too close to the party start to get presentable in time,” he said cheerfully, snagging his and Jason’s glasses for the dishwasher.
“You could always come later in the evening,” Bruce offered, the hope in his voice only noticeable to his kids who knew him best.
“Nah, I’ll be out early too,” Duke cut in smoothly, giving Jason a nod, “but I’ll meet Danny later. Want me to go see if Damian and Jon are up?”
“His name is Danny?” Steph demanded, eyes narrowing as she zeroed back in on Jason. “Family name?”
“So you can stalk him?” Jason shot back, sticking his tongue out at her. “Detect it yourself. And nah, either I’ll see them before I go or on patrol tonight. I came by to see who was coming and warn you all to back off anyway.”
“Damian hasn’t said he’ll be attending, but if you’d like him to,” Bruce began, and Jason cut him off again, half wondering how long they could keep the streak going.
“Nah, it’s not like me and Danny are gonna be a one and done thing. He’ll have time to meet the demon brat later,” he added while Steph squealed.
Bruce had his pinchy bitch face on again and Jason had to admit, it wasn’t just the pit. He also did not like the guy.
But seeing as Bruce alternated between treating him like a rabid animal and overbearing “paternal affection”, Jason was giving himself a break on this one.
On his way to the door Duke paused, turning back and grinning at Jason.
“Oh, before I go. Tell ‘em the best part, Jason. What you told me before Dick got here,” he added when Jason looked momentarily confused.
Dick, highly offended, looked for a piece of Jason to poke that wasn’t covered by Cass.
“What! You left out the best part!” He bemoaned as Steph laughed at him.
It took Jason a moment to work out what Duke was talking about. He hadn’t told Duke anything funny or scandalous before Dick attacked. Except…
Yeah, that’d get Bruce’s panties in a twist.
Arms still hooked around Cass’s waist, partially to give Dick less targets, Jason watched the old man from the corner of his eye.
“Oh yeah. He’s been helping me with the pit,” he said innocently.
Silence but for the gentle sizzle of Alfred’s cooking choked the room. And lasted for a whole thirty seconds before erupting.
**
About an hour later Jason was leaving the manor again, the smile on his face satisfied if not particularly joyful.
Bruce had tried for an interrogation, but with Cass in his lap and Alfred glaring shotguns over his head, he hadn’t gotten far. Steph was declaring it True Love.
Dick had settled down immediately, which Jason had kinda expected. He’d had more pieces to put together than the others after the graveyard.
Tim was speed-googling every Danny in the city, and Jason half considered giving him a fake last name just to see what happened. Buuut Tim had slept last night, which meant they should be nice to him.
See if they could make it a habit. Jason maintained Tim wasn’t a dog to be pavlov’d, but he wasn’t the one who’d dated the guy. Steph insisted it could work.
And once Bruce had been silently threatened by every waking member at least once, Jason told him he’d text first and last name for the guest list. That the first name wouldn’t be “Daniel” might raise a brow, but hey.
It was Jason’s party.
Bruce could research Tucker Foley all he wanted to, right up until tomorrow evening. Maybe Jason’d send the message late.
Pulling out his phone, he shot a quick message off to the Team Phantom group chat.
‘JTodd: Tuck’s on the list. Also, two of my nosey bastard brothers saw us on my bike yesterday, so they think Danny’s my boyfriend. Also that Danny is my mystery plus one. Can we add them to the fuckery list?’
Three sets of scrolling dots appeared immediately, which meant all three were already up. Good to know.
Without waiting for an immediate reply, Jason stuffed his phone into his pocket and hopped onto his bike.
Him having a “secret boyfriend” would only add to the drama they were hoping to cause. Too bad he wouldn’t be seeing any of the gang in person before the gala, but they’d have plenty of time to plot.
***
Danny’s morning started a couple of hours later than Jason’s, and with much less breakfast incentives. No pancakes in this college kid’s life, and who needed them when he had a lifetime supply of Lucky Charms?
Unless he could make Lucky Charms pancakes. Now that would be perfection.
He didn’t bother getting dressed before eating either, secluding himself and his bowl straight back into bed to pull out his laptop.
They’d made a brand new group chat last night, one for just Sam, Tucker, and him. Sam had insisted they’d have some planning to do and Danny, fully aware they meant “grilling him endlessly about Jason Todd”, was more than happy to pop up a chat Jazz couldn’t see.
She’d have So Many Thoughts on them meeting in a graveyard. Hard pass. Hopefully she wouldn’t be able to scroll back through last night’s mess far enough for that part of the story.
They’d also planned a video call for this morning, which was basically why Danny was up before noon. Comfortably tucked into bed, he booted up his laptop and started the call.
Sam popped on first of course, already fully dressed and immaculately made up. She was also looming over her webcam like she was ready to pounce.
“Alright Danny, spill. When the fuck did you learn Jason Todd was a halfa?” She demanded.
Used to her by now, Danny took a noisy slurp of cereal milk. Sam rolled her eyes and pointed firmly at the lens.
“I will ask my parents to lend you one of Dad’s ties Danny, I swear I will.”
And that made Danny flinch. Mr Manson’s “ties” were never just a tie; each one had matching cufflinks, pocket squares, and a forty minute lecture on returning all items in pristine condition.
He wasn’t even sure the suit Jazz and Sam had helped him buy could take cufflinks. Most people in this century used buttons.
Lowering the bowl, he raised a hand in unequivocal surrender.
“Look, Tucker’s not even on yet, I don’t wanna have to answer the same questions twice. I swear I told you guys the truth last night!” He added when Sam’s eyes narrowed.
Folding her arms, she sat heavily back onto her bed and continued to glare, but all looming operations ceased. Close enough; she was willing to wait.
Danny relaxed as well, taking another spoonful of cereal.
“So, how’s Val?” He asked to fill the time.
And grinned when Sam’s expression immediately softened. She had it fucking Bad.
“She’s fine. Swears she isn’t pissed that my parents won’t let her come, but she wants back in the group chat. I didn’t tell her about Jason yet,” she added with another roll of her eyes when Danny opened his mouth, still chewing, “she just has some thoughts on shit you can get up to.”
That last part made Danny frown a little and he paused to swallow before speaking.
“Wait, you didn’t tell her about Jason? Why?” Sure, they hadn’t gotten that far into the full Phantom Personal History last night, but they would eventually. Especially if she went back into the chat.
Sam gave him a withering look.
“Because we ask Jason who he’s happy with learning that he’s half dead,” she said slowly, like he was stupid.
Which, fair. Danny had kept his own secret for so long he’d kind of forgotten it was a secret to keep. But…
“The whole world knows he died, and they’re all gonna learn he’s back tomorrow,” he pointed out, adding more cereal to the dregs of his milk.
Sam pressed her hands together, probably praying to Clockwork for patience.
“Danny I swear I will add Jazz to this call and have her give you the consent rant,” she said sweetly, in her most innocent Manson Party Voice.
Danny snickered into his cereal, fully aware he’d be hearing a lot more of that voice soon.
“You’re swearing a lot today Sam, wake up cranky?” He teased and grinned when she flipped him off.
“Anyway, do you wanna text Jason and check he’s cool with looping her in or should I message the chat?” She asked, already scooping up her own phone.
Danny hesitated for a second, glancing at the clock. Like he had any idea what schedule the guy operated on.
“I’ll text him later, he said he was gonna go deal with his family this morning to get Tuck on the invite list. And speak of the devil!” He cheered as the third window popped open, a sleepy Tucker in frame.
Clearly still in bed too, Tucker wiped drool from his chin and waved.
“Hey, sorry guys, I’m here… slow morning,” he said, like it was an anomaly.
Sam rolled her eyes, then tugged her laptop in and loomed over the camera again.
“So Danny, tell me when you found out Jason Todd was a halfa,” she demanded again, and Danny snickered some more.
“That’d be way more menacing if you hadn’t done it five minutes ago,” he pointed out and she flipped him off again.
“Eat dick, Fenton. Jason’s. Do you seriously expect me to believe you met that guy yesterday? You were sending us selfies from his fucking lap.”
Danny frowned, scooping more cereal into his mouth and swallowing half of it whole.
“Hey, he’s just a touchy guy! Also, his couch is shit and just that small.”
“And Jason himself is fucking enormous,” Tucker snorted, moving momentarily out of screen as he sat up and stretched, then repositioned his laptop.
“And that,” Danny acknowledged, pointing to Tuck. Hoping that’s where Tuck’s feed showed on Sam’s computer. She still didn’t look impressed.
“Dude. You’ve been in Gotham for like, a year. You didn’t know there was another halfa running around?” She asked sceptically.
Danny rolled his eyes back, see how she liked it.
“Yeah, because we all advertise on Craig’s List. He didn’t know he was a halfa until yesterday! And it’s not like I run around in the same social circles as Bruce Fucking Wayne.”
“Yeah, but you kinda do now though,” Tucker pointed out, visibly waking up as excitement flashed in his eyes, “which reminds me, can Jason get you any of the new Wayne Tech? I’d kill to get my hands on their newest tablet.”
“Okay one, no expanding my kingdom,” Danny scolded, raising a finger and then flipping up a second, “and two, you didn’t see this guy’s place. It was kinda a shithole, and I live in a dorm. I don’t think he’s that close to the family.”
Sam gave him her very best deadpan look, only slightly withered by screens and distance.
“We are literally going to a high society ball tomorrow in his honour, Danny. I think Bruce likes him just fine.”
Danny dropped his fingers and just wiggled the whole hand in the air beside his head.
“Eh, unlikely? I dunno, something went on with them when Jason died, or when he came back maybe, Jay won’t speak about it. But he didn’t want me to tell Bruce anything.”
Didn’t want it to get back to Batman, but they were withholding that particular detail from the rest of the team for now. These were the people Danny trusted with his secret, and now with Jason’s, but that one wasn’t theirs to tell.
Tucker rolled his eyes too, throwing both hands into the air.
“Then Bruce is clearly trying to buy back into his good graces, and guilt’s gotta be worth at least two new tablets!” He declared passionately.
Danny snorted most of a laugh through his nose, discarding his now-empty bowl onto the floor beside his bed.
“Look, I’ll ask, but no promises. They probably don’t want hackers cracking them right off the line,” he added with a smirk.
Tucker put on his very best offended face.
“Daniel, you wound me! I am no mere hacker! I am the sweet and loving god of technology, and I neeeeeeed a sacrifice!”
“Ew, don’t use the Vlad-nickname,” Sam hissed, flailing a pillow at the camera.
Tucker obligingly dropped onto his bed like she’d actually hit him, rolling through the sheets.
“Okay but the rest of my point stands!” A sudden thought occurred and he shot back up, snatching desperately at his laptop to keep it from falling to the floor. “WAIT! Danny, can he get me an internship?!”
Danny rolled his eyes, stuffing his fist into the cereal box to grab a dry handful. He was gonna need more sugar for this bullshit.
“Wrong Wayne adoptee, you’re thinking of Tim Drake. I dunno if he’ll even be at the gala, but you could always ask him,” he added thoughtfully, glancing at his phone.
Jason hadn’t known who else would be there from his side, beyond Bruce himself. Danny wasn’t quite sure if he wanted any of his brothers or sisters to come either.
For all they’d shared life secrets and soul underwear, he still didn’t know much about Jason’s day to day life.
Which wasn’t surprising. They’d properly known each other for a day.
It was just that he’d never met a halfa his age, who wasn’t his clone. Of course he wanted to know all about Jason. What he did, where he went, who was important in his life.
It was just regular curiosity. Totally normal.
Tucker was a gasping ball of delight at just the potential chance to meet Tim himself, while Sam lectured them both about “no ethical consumption under capitalism”.
Danny stuffed another handful of cereal into his mouth and looked back at his phone.
Jason was probably up now.
He could probably just text him.
He could ask for Tucker if Tim would be at the gala.
He could ask what Jason was wearing to the gala, and if he knew how the fuck cufflinks worked.
His phone buzzed like he’d willed the message to appear and he snatched it up, opening directly to the group chat. It was Jason!
‘JTodd: Tuck’s on the list. Also, two of my nosey bastard brothers saw us on my bike yesterday, so they think Danny’s my boyfriend. Also that Danny is my mystery plus one. Can we add them to the fuckery list?’
Tucker and Sam had gone quiet too, both checking their phones at the same time. Sam let out a triumphant laugh and began typing, even as Tucker whooped and joined in.
Probably asking if Tim Drake was coming.
Danny tapped out a couple of emojis before the rest of the message sunk in. They thought he and Jason were dating?
He could feel the heat creeping up his face as Sam looked up at the camera again, at exactly the wrong moment.
“Hey Danny, did you see?” She cooed sweetly, an utter shit eating grin on her face. “The rest of the Waynes sure think you’ve known each other for more than a day.”
Danny dropped his phone, message unsent.
“Yeah but they saw us for like a second, what would they know?“ he asked quickly, shooting for nonchalant and fully aware he’d missed by a mile.
Tucker cackled, sending off a message and then grinning back up at the call.
“I dunno, they might be onto something, those selfies you sent us were pretty cute,” he added slyly.
Danny flipped him off, scrabbling through the sheets for his buzzing phone.
“Cuz I’m fucking adorable. I don’t even know if he likes guys, or anyone at all, he’s just a new friend!”
“And the only member of your whole species that isn’t your clone or creepy beyond belief,” Sam cut in, sending off her own message too, “you might have a social responsibility.”
“To repopulate halfas?” Danny asked, rolling his eyes and finally snatching his phone back up, scanning their messages. “Shame we’re both men and that’s physically impossible.”
‘TechMasterF: Thanks dude! Always down to help fuck with family. Any idea who’ll be there?’
‘2Goth2Glorious: oh that’s perfect, we gotta keep them away from my parents… or let them think Danny’s stringing us both along 😈’
Well, Tucker was being surprisingly discrete. Good for him.
“I dunno, you could just shove more people into those ectoplasm pools that made Jason,” Tucker pointed out thoughtfully, now typing away on his laptop. Clearly had another window open.
Danny rolled his eyes, finally shooting off his own string of emojis. He was. Just not gonna address the dating thing.
“Somehow I don’t think it’s that easy, apparently a bunch of people have gone in and we don’t know how many changed or are just liminals.”
‘DannyP: 🙌🙌🎊🎊🐼🍷’
‘DannyP: definitely adding them to the fuckery list’
He knew the message had reached the group because Sam and Tucker both glanced at their phones, then groaned in unison.
“Dude, way to make him think you’re not interested,” Tucker sighed, wiggling his phone.
“It sounds like you’re insulted they’d think it,” Sam agreed firmly.
Danny stared at them, then down at his phone.
“Fucking how?? All I did was answer his question! And maybe I’m not interested,” he added quickly when Sam began to smirk.
“Give me a minute, I’m gonna work out how to delete your messages,” Tucker said solemnly, attention switching fully back to his phone.
“Hey, fuck off!” Danny half chuckled, shaking his head.
Sam sighed, speaking slowly again. It was her own damn fault for hauling them both up before noon if they were slow.
“Danny, you haven’t sent a message without emojis since you learned about emoticons. For you? It looks like you’re mad,” she explained, and Danny pouted, scrolling quickly back up through the chat.
Fuck. She had a point.
Jason hadn’t popped up on the read receipts yet, so he quickly swiped to delete the message.
“Okay but again, me and Jason don’t know each other all that well,” he protested, now staring at the empty message box and wondering what the fuck to type.
There wasn’t an emoji for “oh ancients your family thinks we’re dating and we’re totally not but not because you’re not a catch”.
Knowing Jason for long or not, those hints of low self esteem were pretty obvious. Danny saw them every day in the mirror. No wonder Sam and Tuck noticed over texts.
Okay, he might have noticed the lack of emojis. Being Robin probably meant overthinking everything when playing detective.
Sam sighed and actually poked the lens of her webcam.
“If I see a laughing emoji I am going to slap you tomorrow,” she said firmly.
Danny quickly hit backspace.
“Well what the fuck do you think I should say to that then?” He asked sharply.
Tucker sighed, abandoning his phone in favour of the laptop again.
“I dunno Danny, have you been flirting?” He asked, tone suggesting it was a rhetorical question.
Which was bullshit. It’s not like Danny and Jason had relayed all their conversations. No reason for him to know they’d been calling their meet ups “dates”.
That probably didn’t count as flirting anyway, they were just fucking around.
“Yeah, right after he read me Romeo and Juliet on his grave,” he said sarcastically, rolling his eyes extra hard to get his point across.
Tucker had the sheer audacity to laugh at him.
“Okay but you know that move would be a slam dunk on Sam,” he said with a sly look to the left. Must be where Sam showed on his screen.
The lady in question rolled her eyes and flipped Tuck off too, giving the camera a flat look.
“Danny, that is in fact called flirting.”
“It totally isn’t!” Danny argued, at least partially panicking.
Jason wasn’t flirting with him. Jason couldn’t be flirting with him. Danny might have been flirting with Jason, but that certainly didn’t mean the guy was flirting back!
Sam gave him a second secret even flatter look, then sighed and shook her head.
“I will never hear a single word from you about me and Val being “disaster lesbians” again, Danny Fenton,” she said firmly, and Danny huffed.
That wasn’t fucking fair. Sam and Val had been goddamn adorable when they were awkwardly flirting back and forth, both certain the other wasn’t interested.
This just couldn’t be the same situation.
Tuck snickered at both of them indiscriminately, glancing down at his phone.
“Yeah, well, Jason hasn’t messaged back yet so we’ll see. We picking up a Fenton Phone for him tonight too?” He asked suddenly, frowning at the camera.
Danny shrugged and nodded.
“Yeah, gotta come get you and a suit anyway so I figured I’d swing through Amity Park. Mom and Dad promised to take Jazz out so the lab’ll be empty.”
Which wasn’t technically a necessity anymore, since the Fenton parents were in on the secret. It was just an emotional necessity, because if Sam and Tuck were already this bad they’d be so much worse.
Probably try and send some message to Bruce Wayne congratulating him on being their new brother in law.
Nope.
No fucking way.
They had no one to blame but themselves.
***
New Years Eve came.
Jason was beginning to wish it hadn’t.
Dick had been as good as his word, sweeping Jason away to a tailor in the better parts of Gotham who took one look at Dick and told him to fuck off.
Finally, Jason had a suit made by a man with both good taste and the ability to read the room. He didn’t even condescend to either of them, with no witnesses at all.
Jason kept his card. Heavens forbid he need to go to more galas, but at least he could be well dressed now.
He hadn’t worn a proper suit since he was knee high, felt like. Dick insisted he looked fantastic, both at the tailor’s shop and tonight, giving him a sweeping once over and a wolf whistle.
Jason looked in the mirror and mostly saw Bruce, except for the shock of white hair. Kinda hated that.
He’d agreed to come to the manor first rather than going straight to the gala, which was being held at one of the city’s numerous ballrooms. Cheaper for Bruce when the inevitable rogue attack happened.
He was being reintroduced as Bruce’s ward, it made sense for them to arrive together. And Jason was maybe just a little smug that there were now enough of his siblings coming that they had to take a limo.
No sentimental heart to hearts in the back seat while he choked down rage for this asshole.
Cass had her own suit, blacker than black with a black undershirt. She made an adorable baby goth, the only pop of colour the red embroidery on her collar.
Jason hadn’t put it together until she’d tapped it and signed to him, ‘yours’. She was wearing his Red Hood colours, and the urge to laugh just about beat out the urge to cry.
Dick was a little more traditional, black suite, white shirt, emerald green tie. Matching Jason, except Jason had gone for blue. Tim matched them both except for the deeply sullen look on his face.
(Dick confided in a whisper that he’d still spent the night at the manor, even after deciding he’d come to the gala. Alfred had switched immediately from the bribe not to go to threatening not to let Tim go if he didn’t have enough sleep to look presentable.)
Steph had shown up after all, in a long sweeping dress that was almost the same purple as her suit, cut short enough not to get in her way if she had to run. Or go up and down stairs, conveniently, so she had a civilian excuse.
Even Damian was present, looking extremely suspicious of the lot of them. He’d wasted no time telling Jason that he was there solely to assess this “Danny” and determine if he was worthy of joining the family.
Jason kinda considered slipping away to send Danny a warning text that he might be getting a shovel talk. Decided against it.
Watching the boy king of the dead being menaced by an actual baby was just too funny to miss.
Jason hadn’t deliberately waited til most of the family were in the car on purpose, but was rather pleased to find his siblings had been thinking of him.
Bruce was stuck down at one end of the car, Dick and Steph sandwiching him in while Steph talked animatedly to Cass on the closest side seat, Tim and then Damian beside her. Jason would be damn near at the other end of the vehicle.
Obviously Bruce had noticed despite Dick’s passionate and ongoing monologue about how funding Bludhaven’s police might mean less officers fell to bribery (which even Dick knew was bullshit). He seemed resigned more than anything.
The drive was quick and loud, and Jason had to wonder if he could have handled it at all with the pit before.
His… anticipation. Definitely anticipation.
Resignation.
Not fear.
Whatever he was feeling, it had garnered some attention, and the waters were shifting much sooner than they had after the last time he saw Danny.
He’d spent more than half the day on the couch, hugging Frostbite’s ghost succulent to his chest. It hadn’t noticeably helped, but maybe it had done something.
He’d spent the drive gently needling Damian about Cass wearing her suit better instead of fighting down green. That was a result in his books.
Cass wore her suit better than both of them combined. No matter how she felt, she didn’t look like she wanted to shrug her skin off. Jason was getting the hang of that still.
And now… now it was just the red carpet, the flashing cameras, and some asshole in an over starched suit announcing the Wayne Clan’s arrival.
Jason sucked in a breath, trying not to tense as his hand found the door handle. This wasn’t a fight. He wasn’t going into combat. He’d be fine.
Combat was much more fun. Even when he got shot, he was allowed to shoot people back.
His situational awareness was fully shot though, because he didn’t notice Bruce until the taller (fucker) man’s hand covered his.
“Allow me,” the older man said softly, those all too perceptive eyes tracking over Jason’s face. “I should get out first. Let them get a few shots to settle down, and then we all go in and you don’t have to do anything but stand for the speech.”
Jason fucking hated the part of himself that still wanted to lean in. To nod and let Bruce take the lead like a good little soldier.
And maybe he should, Bruce had done this way more than him, had always done his best to shield his wards from it. To his credit, he’d pretty much succeeded.
But Jason wasn’t a little kid anymore, and the one time he’d needed Bruce’s shield it hadn’t come.
He pushed the door open himself and stepped out, pulling on a smile at the last second.
Coming “back to life” meant back to the Wayne name, but let no one think he was still hiding behind Bruce.
On some level Bruce must have understood that, because there was a short pause before he followed him, all wide Brucie smile and fond affection. A warm hand clapped on Jason’s shoulder, almost the least they could be touching and still play happy families.
Then Damian followed, Tim and the girls, and finally Dick, throwing an arm around his shoulders and “coincidentally” tugging him away from Bruce’s hand.
He owed the guy a drink. And possibly some reassurance that he wasn’t actually going to bite Bruce for touching him.
They stayed for a moment for the family photos, then Dick cheerfully messed up Jason’s hair and they made their way up the carpet and into the event. Bruce was taken aside for a moment by an attendant and then they were being announced like it was a fucking Regency novel.
There was the slightest hint of a chance that Bruce had set it up with Jason in mind specifically. Not asked him if he wanted it or checked in, just gone ahead and done it.
That wasn’t what Jason liked about his classics, but the thought was warm in a soft way he hadn’t associated with Bruce in a long time.
They were about to disperse, the rest probably on the hunt for Danny, when Bruce caught Jason’s eye and nodded to a quiet spot. Sucking in a breath, Jason followed.
He’d been prepared to go through tonight with the pit in his ear, back when he thought it wasn’t optional. He could do it as just himself. No sweat.
Bruce waited a moment after Jason joined him, glancing around the room and lowering his voice below easy eavesdropping range.
“Your plus one has arrived, Jason. Would you like to make introductions now, or just go and join him? He seems a little… unaccustomed to these events, apparently,” he added with a sympathetic half smile.
None of them liked these events, but Jason had assumed Tucker would be arriving with Sam and Danny. Apparently not, as a quick scan of the room produced only one signature red beret.
By the refreshments. Perfect.
Jason even managed a smile of his own for Bruce, and felt more sad than angry at the flicker of surprise. He knew exactly how they’d come to this, yet… all he’d wanted was a home.
“I’ll go check on him. We’ll catch up with you later,” he added with a short nod.
He did want to introduce Danny and his friends to his siblings. And maybe to Bruce too. But that could come later.
He still had to officially meet Tucker first.
A slight smile pulling across his lips, he made his way across the hall to that trademarked red beret.
**
The bat siblings took a moment to put their heads together while Bruce and Jason talked, finalising their plan of attack.
“Alright, I think we need two teams. Tim and I will split so we each have someone who’s seen Danny,” Dick whispered, giving Tim a nod as he scanned the room.
Steph nodded firmly, liking her arm through Tim’s.
“I’ll take Tim and Damian to be my top stealth operative. You take Cass for yours. Stay within around 10 feet of each other but not obviously together, no need to let anyone think something’s up. Tim stay in the middle, so you can signal us if necessary,” she commanded and the others all nodded.
Damian pouted just a little, but he wasn’t about to argue with being put on stealth. It meant less talking to people.
They split apart, all doing their most charming smiles, just in time to see Jason moving purposefully across the room.
“Well shit, here we go,” Dick chuckled, offering Cass his arm. She slipped a hand into the crook of his elbow and let him guide her off in the same general direction as Jason.
Tim, Steph, and Damian split up, meandering gently along the other side of Jason’s path. Dick turned a beaming smile on a nearby couple that were moving in close enough the same direction.
Gala talk never went beyond surface level anyway, so it was easy to keep up the conversation while watching Jason make his way to the refreshments. And… joined someone.
Dick’s brow furrowed.
**
“That’s not him,” Tim hissed into Steph’s ear, catching her at one end of the drinks table.
Steph stopped, frowned, and looked down towards the middle, where Jason was chatting amicably with a young Black man in an off-the-rack suit.
“Are you sure?” She hissed back, leaning back towards him to reach for a glass.
Tim gave her a flat look.
“The guy at Jason’s was white. I’m not that tired,” he said flatly and Steph stifled a giggle.
“Yeah, okay, I believe you. So who’s that?”
“That would be Tucker Foley, the man Jason added to the guest list,” Damian said smartly, coming to Tim’s other side and passing Steph a glass.
Both turned to face him and he sighed, rolling his eyes.
“I checked Father’s phone this morning.”
Straightening, Steph took a careful sip of her juice, turning so her back was to the table.
“I checked last night, Jason hadn’t sent anything,” she whispered and Damian smirked.
“The message was from 9am. I believe he wanted to give Father less time to research him.”
“And us,” Tim agreed with a huff, grabbing his own drink at random. And hastily putting it back when it stank of whiskey.
“Apparently effectively,” Damian noted smugly, looking across the floor. Following his gaze, Tim saw Bruce pretending he wasn’t also watching Jason and his new friend.
Fighting a grin, Tim grabbed a glass that matched Steph’s instead.
“Yeah, okay, I’m less mad. Wanna try and get closer, demon brat?”
By the time he’d glanced down, Damian was already gone.
Steph hid her smile in another slow sip, then straightened and moved away from the table.
“I’ll be around. Oooh shit Dick’s moving in, not missing that,” she said suddenly, walking away at speed.
Tim spun back around and groaned. Okay, the oldest wasn’t the most subtle of the bats by a fucking long shot, but they should have at least had a minute.
With a philosophical shrug, he headed away just off Steph’s path to find his own eavesdropping spot. It’s not like they were trying to hide from Jason specifically.
Just his new friend.
**
Tucker had lit up like a sunbeam when Jason called out, turning to give him a once over and grinning.
“Okay, holy shit, how are you even bigger in person? I’d almost think you were a Fenton,” he exclaimed as Jason drew closer.
Jason didn’t bother trying to hide his curiosity.
“Oh? Danny’s not that tall.” Which had made it all the better when Danny took him to the floor, honestly.
Tucker’s grin widened.
“Danny’s dad is 6’9, and Jazz is 6’4. We think Clocky’s holding Danny’s growth spurt hostage til he takes the crown,” Tucker explained easily, deeply satisfied with the way Jason’s eyes widened.
Okay, the thought of Danny looming over him was not one he was prepared to deal with. Shaking his head like that’d help, he gave Tuck a curious look.
“I thought you were gonna be arriving with Danny and Sam by the way, are they around?” He couldn’t imagine they’d have left Tucker alone.
Tucker did look a lot more comfortable than he’d feared though, grabbing a few more of the delicate canapés.
“Yeah, Danny got me this afternoon, but then we thought it’d be funnier if Sam’s parents didn’t know I’m a guest of honour. Like a one-two punch when Danny’s Sam’s date,” he explained, then waved a hand. “It’s not the worst just waiting.”
Jason took a moment to glance around, clocking all five of his siblings and resisting the urge to wave. Barely. Another fun thought occurred.
“So do you want me to make myself scarce when they get here? Let them see you, and then drop that you’re a guest of honour?” He asked innocently, and Tucker’s eyes gleamed.
If Danny hadn’t told him both his friends were still living humans, he might have wondered. But apparently there was still a whole lot that none of them understood.
Jason had gotten through the entire ghost database Team Phantom had gifted him, and he had questions. But those would have to wait for another, less fun day.
Tucker nodded happily, looking around and back towards the entrance.
“Oh fucking yes, can you just kinda hover and then I’ll say hi? Let them get a couple sentences in before you come say hello?” He asked eagerly, and Jason grinned back.
Today was for fun. And crime. Gala crime, and not the inevitable rogue attack, the fun kind.
Fuck it was nice to have the chance to have fun.
“Abso-fucking-lutely. Also, my older brother is coming up behind you,” he continued innocently and Dick groaned, abandoning the sneak attempt and closing the rest of the distance, Cass still on his arm.
“Jason! I was trying to be cool and discrete,” he huffed, giving his little brother the puppy eyes before moving on to grin at Tucker. “Hey, as Jaybird says, I’m his brother Dick, this is our little sister Cass, and you are?”
And Jason maybe fell the littlest bit in love with Tucker as he turned to Dick, most innocent smile you’ve ever seen in your life on his face, and said,
“Oh hey, nice to meet you! I’m Danny.”
Dick’s sheer confusion lasted just long enough for Tucker to register it too, then he held out a hand to shake.
“Oh, really? Would you be the Danny Jason was telling us about at breakfast the other day?” He asked carefully, eyes flicking between Tucker and Jason.
Jason kept his smile utterly opaque. Tucker took the offered hand, innocent as anything.
“Well I wouldn’t know anything about that, Dick, but Jason did say he’d be getting me on the guest list, and here I am! It’s great to meet you both, Jason’s had only nice things to say.”
Which seemed to surprise Dick again, but not Cass as she smiled up at Jason.
She, of course, was already onto them. It was damn near impossible to get a lie past Cass but she could be quickly persuaded to join in with any fuckery.
Jason tipped her a quick wink while Dick went down some internal pathways and her smile widened, giving just the slightest hint of a nod back.
Sweet angel baby sister.
Dick was doing his best to make innocent, normal, definitely-not-interrogation conversation and Tucker was very happy to oblige him.
Absolutely none of them expected Tucker to turn and cheerfully address his next comment to the table.
“Yeah, well, Gotham’s a beautiful city but I bet this kind of event can get a little dull for the younger crowd, right?”
Immediately Jason scanned the area for Damian while Dick did his very best mildly-confused-puppy face.
“Uh… what do you mean, Danny?” He asked carefully, glancing in the direction Tucker was looking.
Tucker grinned at him and pointed down.
“Someone’s kid is hiding under the table. Pretty harmless way to keep out of trouble, right?” Tuck asked cheerfully.
Jason’s eyebrows shot into his hairline when Damian reluctantly crawled out from under the table, rising to frown up at the taller boy.
It made a kind of sense? Amity Park’s version of the rogues gallery was actual, literal ghosts and Tucker had been fighting them since he was Damian’s age. Being more observant than most went with the territory.
But he really wasn’t shy about outing himself at all.
Dick picked up the trailing question, knowing full well Damian wouldn’t, and pulled on his best Public Relations smile. He’d definitely noticed.
“Oh, yeah, this is our youngest brother Damian! He doesn’t really do parties,” he added by way of explanation when Damian just kept glowering.
Tucker nodded agreeably, giving Damian a nod of his own.
“I’m gonna have to introduce you to Sam, Damian, you guy’s’ll get along great! She hates these kinds of events too,” he added by way of explanation, apparently completely missing at least three bats zooming in on the information.
“Sam? Do you know someone else who’s coming?” Dick asked with very convincing casual curiosity.
Tucker just nodded again, as open as a well thumbed book, picking at his little plate of canapés.
“Oh yeah, Sam Manson, from Amity Park. She should be here soon, she’s a good friend. She always hides behind the fake plants,” he told Damian, winking conspiratorially.
If looks could kill, Tucker would have become a ghost.
Fully aware that at least two of his siblings were about to be doing some frantic googling, Jason took Tucker’s arm and turned him from the table.
“Well, we should get out of the way so the other guests can get at the food. Has anyone given you the tour, Tucker?” He asked, definitely not grinning at Damian.
It wasn’t “getting caught by a civilian” bad, but Damian didn’t know that.
Tucker gave a slightly sad look back to the trays of finger foods but quickly twigged, snapping his gaze back to Jason.
“No, they haven’t. Which way are the bathrooms?”
**
Five bats reconvened immediately in a distant corner of the ballroom.
“That’s definitely not the same guy, right Dick?”
“He said his name was Danny, he might be some kind of chameleon meta? He and Jason definitely knew each other.”
“Did he just catch Damian? Slipping there, baby bat.”
“There is something unnatural about him,” Damian insisted firmly, shooting Steph a murderous glare that was fully ignored.
After a brief moment, all four turned their full attention to Cass. She was the human lie detector.
Cass gave them all a polite smile and half shrug.
‘Very honest. Very open. Not hiding anything,’ she signed.
Damian’s eyes narrowed.
“He prattles like a fool but there is most definitely something off about him. No one as obtuse as he pretends to be would have detected my presence,” he said firmly, eyes locked with Cass’.
Tim rolled his eyes and waved a hand at the pair of them.
“Look, you slipped up Damian. None of us bothered bringing our A game to a party, it happens.”
Damian’s glare promised more cut grapple lines in Tim’s future.
“I did not slip, Drake. Todd and Grayson did not register my presence, but this boy did. And his name is Tucker Foley, not Danny,” he added sharply to Cass, “so he is also an exceptional liar.”
Tim flipped him off pretty much on principle. Dick shrugged, retaining his position as “everyones favourite brother” by not choosing sides.
“It might be a middle name or a nickname, D. He didn’t hesitate or stumble over it.”
Damian shook his head mulishly, turning a much milder glare on Dick. He pulled out his phone.
“Tucker Foley does not have a middle name, Grayson. He does have a Facebook connection named Daniel Fenton, mutual contacts with Samantha Manson.”
The other four convened on the phone screen, frowning. There indeed was Tucker’s Facebook page, which looked to have been dead for at least two years. Annual birthday messages from elderly relatives filled most of the wall.
Satisfied that they were now listening, Damian turned a sharp eyed stare on Tim.
“Drake should be next to engage. Foley is currently a student at MIT in science and technology, and his records are sealed beyond my ability to immediately break. You are the most technologically inclined and may bond with him,” he added, like they’d need an explanation.
The news made the others sit up and take notice. Any records sealed beyond what a Robin could get into, any Robin, meant better than normal encryption.
Steph already had her phone out too, browsing heavily.
“I can’t find any other trace of him,” she chimed in a moment later, frowning at the rest of the group, “the Facebook email’s definitely going somewhere, but there’s no other social media associated with it.”
Tim frowned, leaning towards her phone.
“Any leads on what his other email addresses might be? What’s the name?”
Steph flashed him her screen.
“It’s a private web server, he’s set up his own, but that’s empty too, at least at first glance. Anyone wanna text Babs?” She asked, eyes flashing from one to the other.
Dick sighed and pulled out his phone as well, glancing around the room.
“We shouldn’t be out of sight too long, people will notice. I’ll text Babs and see if she’s busy, then do some laps. See what people have to say about Foley and the Mansons. Same teams?”
Cass, who had no intention of letting anyone at these parties even suspect she could communicate with them without a translator, hooked her hand through his arm again.
Not only were people much more loose lipped when they thought you couldn’t understand them (and a certain type of asshole just knew that mute people were all stupid), she also wasn’t giving up a gold standard excuse to ignore anyone who tried to talk to her.
Tim, Damian, and Steph exchanged quick looks, then nodded.
“I’ll see if I can catch them somewhere on the tour,” Tim volunteered, nodding to Steph, “do you wanna see if anyone in our age range knows anything about Sam Manson? I’ve seen her before but never spoken to her..”
“Ours up to Dick’s, it looks like Foley’s a little younger than Jason,” she agreed, then turned to Damian, “I think you’re gonna have to stay in sight for the rest of the night though.”
Damian’s brow furrowed into its typical deep scowl lines. Boy would have wrinkles by 15.
“I shall find Father and see what he knows of Foley or the Mansons,” he decided sulkily, looking around the room.
Getting caught still stung, even if he was certain Foley was up to something suspicious. The real question was, what were Foley’s intentions?
Damian didn’t believe Todd would be willingly involved in anything that would hurt the family. Hurt Bruce, possibly, but nothing that would put any of his siblings in the potential crossfire.
The question was, what did Todd know about Foley?
**
Tim considered playing it subtle for about 30 seconds. Something about the look in Jason’s eye when he caught Tim’s changed his mind immediately.
Jason knew Tim and Dick had seen the real Danny. Jason was having fun. Why bother playing subtle when the game was on?
He put himself directly in their path and headed over, a nice, sociable gala smile on his face. Jason could try and duck and weave him, but that’d be obvious.
He didn’t, and even drew to a stop, something wicked in his smile as he turned to his companion.
“And this is my younger brother, Timothy Drake. Tim, this is…” he trailed off, clearly prepared to be absolutely steamrollered by the wide eyed young man.
“Tim Drake?! Hello, I’m Tucker Foley, I’m a huge fan of your work, some of the things coming out of WT this year were just incredible,” he gushed, holding out a hand to shake.
The hand was pretty much vibrating on its own. Tim took it and shook firmly, the smile growing just a little more genuine.
Score one for Demon Brat. He was a tech head. And, he noticed not hearing “Danny”. Jason didn’t seem upset, so this wasn’t the big game.
Tim wanted in on the big game.
“Hey, it’s always great to meet a fan. What kind of Wayne Tech are you rocking?”
Jason coughed suspiciously into his hand as Tucker dived into a pocket, pulling out… a weirdly clunky PDA? Definitely not something Tim had seen off the line.
“Oh, I don’t really go for prebuilt tech, but I’ve incorporated the motherboards from a couple of older WT tablets and got a couple extra gigs of RAM just to make it juicy,” he explained happily, turning it on.
Tim’s eyebrows rose as he moved in to peer at the screen. From the outside it looked like something Alfred might have used during his adventuring days, but it loaded like a dream.
Just from the few screens Tucker flicked through, Tim had to wonder just what this PDA was capable of. And maybe if he should be hanging out more in hardware hacker spaces.
Even Jason looked impressed, leaning in over Tucker’s other shoulder to watch as he ran them through a couple of different functions.
And that, the app they scrolled past super fast? That definitely said SpyWare, which was not something Tim had seen in an app store. Especially not for a device running WayneTech.
It was no Batcomputer, but for something built on older tech instead of better-than-new, it was easily the next best thing.
Tim looked back at the young man, significantly more impressed. This guy might actually be more interesting than the danger twink.
Just so long as he was on the right side.
“This is pretty cool, Tucker, I can’t wait to see what you could do with some of our newer stuff,” he said earnestly, and had the pleasure of watching the guy fucking melt.
“It would be such an honour to have you take more of a look some time, there’s soooo much I’d love to do with some of your newer tech and I have so many ideas,” Tucker absolutely gushed, and Tim stifled a laugh.
Even if he was a supervillain, Tucker Foley seemed like he’d be an easy one to handle. Hell, easy to get in his good books too.
If Jason didn’t mind him muscling in. Which, given the deeply satisfied grin on his face, he clearly didn’t.
“I’ve got some time free tomorrow, if you’re not in town for long?” Tim was genuinely considering giving this guy a job offer, an interview would save him some formalities to gather his paperwork.
And give Tim someone he knew for sure was both competent and willing to speak to him on the team. But…
Well. Jason wasn’t the only one with very few actual civilian friends. It was what made it so interesting.
And speaking of which, before Tucker could bite his hand off for the offer he raised it quickly, grinning. “On one condition.”
Tucker’s face fell just a little and Tim felt like an asshole, but Jason just raised an eyebrow.
“What’s the condition?” He asked for Tucker, who was stuck in some serious puppy eyes.
Tim smirked.
“You tell me who you’re fucking with tonight. And I want in.” No need to ask how if he could just join the game.
Tucker brightened right up too, stuffing the PDA back into a pocket that really shouldn’t have held it. Fuck Tim wanted to see more of it.
“Oh, sure! The more the merrier, right Jason?” He asked, glancing up at the taller man.
Jason shrugged, glanced around the room for a second, then nodded to a corner.
“Perfect timing, actually. Tuck, our mark is here. You go ahead and get started and I’ll fill Timmo in here as I follow.”
Turning as one, Tim and Tucker watched a well dressed couple at the top of the stairs, followed by a sullen young woman who was obviously their daughter and…
Danny. Real Danny. Arm in arm with the young woman.
Tucker’s grin was all mischief as he nodded, making a beeline for the couple.
“See you in five, guys,” he called over his shoulder.
Tim turned expectantly to Jason. Who grinned and linked an arm through his.
“Go have fun, Tuck.”
Was that why Jason was so open to Tim getting closer to his new boyfriend? If they already weren’t exclusive, that’d explain it.
Had Jason gotten himself involved in a polycule?
**
Danny’s New Years Eve was not going as well, hard as that may seem.
He liked to think he’d found a pretty nice suit for the event, Sam had footed the bill and sent him to her family’s outfitter. It was actually basically a smaller version of the one Mr Manson was wearing.
Sam’s parents had taken one look at him and called it cheap.
Now, the slow dawning horror on her mom’s face when Danny walked through the door? Classic. Incredible. Perfect start to the night.
First sight of Sam and the dress her parents had forced her into today? They might be burning the gala building down.
It was pastel purple. There were ruffles. There were bows. The bows were even still attached, which was an achievement on its own.
One probably only achieved because Sam had already planned her vengeance for later that day. This? This was just fuel for the fire.
He leaned closer while the parents were having their own little moment, trying to work out how they could have known and banned Danny. How they could get away with not bringing him.
“You look like Bo Peep,” he hissed from the corner of his mouth. Sam punched him.
“Shut the fuck up, you look like the Penguin,” she hissed back, eyes narrowed.
Danny snickered, watching the two adults in evening dress whipping themselves into a frenzy. His arrival had been very carefully timed; they had two minutes to get in the car or they’d be more than fashionably late.
“Think the Bat would get confused?” He asked half-interested, half wondering if Jason would save him.
Sam snorted a laugh and gave him a gentle shove, her mom reaching fever pitch in the background.
“Between you and the one person on Earth you’re taller than? Nah. Should we go get in the car?” She was about to move towards the vehicle when Danny caught her arm, grinning broadly.
“Fifty bucks for you to go give them your best baby girl eyes and ask what’s wrong.”
Sam visibly considered it, looking back at where the gesticulations were beginning to muss cuff-lines. Then she rolled her eyes and grabbed his wrist.
“Nah, they’ll suspect something’s up. I want them to be surprised,” she added darkly, eyes already filled with a swirling bubbling vengeance.
Danny cackled and followed her to the door.
“Oh, that’s definitely gonna happen. I’m still having a hard fucking time believing this is real.”
**
The limousine ride had been tense to say the least, the older Mansons joining them just before the last second. They’d still gotten stuck in the winding trail of cars waiting to drop their guests off.
Mr Manson seemed to have resigned himself to Danny’s presence, and spent most of the ride lecturing him firmly on standards of decorum.
Every single part of Danny demanded he slump fully horizontal then and there, but Sam wanted them to be surprised, so best behaviour it was.
He let the older man correct his posture, did his best to answer seriously and respectfully, and charitably ignored Mrs Manson’s long suffering sighs. He could behave, when he wanted to.
He just wasn’t fucking going to.
He’d thought they were nearly at the fun part when the limousine finally stopped long enough for the door to open and let them out, but no. No, now they were in a standing line, waiting to be announced.
Mrs Manson had finally recovered her good mood, gushing excitedly to Sam, her husband, and the empty air above Danny about how this was Mr Wayne’s special request, such a traditional touch.
Clearly it meant the young Mr Todd was a romantic, and might be open to the idea of courting. Perhaps even looking to meet a suitable young lady.
If Danny was actually Sam’s date, he might have been offended. As it was, they were both hiding giggles behind their hands as often as they could raise them.
Finally, finally they reached the top of the stairs overlooking the main ballroom, an attendant checking an actual physical guest list before reading off the names.
Danny was going to fucking die again. The idea that rich people were actually still like this, in the twenty-first century? The laughter he was holding in would stop his heart.
And they hadn’t even gotten started.
Danny’s eyes swept the room automatically as they shuffled into place, their names called to the guests below.
Finding Jason was easy. He wasn’t the tallest man present, or even the broadest; he was in the same boring black and white penguin suit as most of the room.
He drew Danny’s gaze magnetically anyway, walking with a younger man with similar black hair and blue eyes. Probably a sibling. Jason might already be looping him in, they were making their way over.
Which meant… Danny slipped his arm down from Sam’s elbow til he could squeeze her hand, nodding subtly to the crowd.
Tucker Foley, entering stage left. From the corner of his eye he got to watch her grin go utterly feral as her parents reached the floor and Tucker stepped perfectly past the last small group.
“Mr and Mrs Manson! What a pleasure to see you here, it’s so nice to see more Amity Park faces!” He said smoothly, holding his hand out to shake.
Mrs Manson visibly recoiled, both hands snatching back to her bosom.
“You- you’re Sam’s little friend, aren’t you?” She asked sharply, gaze snapping all over his suit and stopping on his beret. She shuddered.
Tucker just kept smiling, turning to offer his hand to Mr Manson instead, who looked at it like it held something dead.
“That’s me! Tucker, remember? Isn’t this a great party? The decorations are just to die for.”
Danny stifled a snicker. No need to let on just yet as he and Sam drifted around to the side. From what he’d seen on the way over, Jason should be here soon.
“Oh, hey Tucker, I didn’t expect to see you here,” he said loudly instead, reaching neatly past Mr Manson to shake his friend’s hand.
Mrs Manson very nearly slapped his hand away from it before realising that no, Danny was the other trash friend, he couldn’t be contaminated by touch.
Sam was fucking simmering in satisfaction, her hand now tucked in the crook of Danny’s elbow like a sweet little damsel. Tucker’s eyes shot over the both of them and his grin broadened.
“Yeah, it was a little last minute, but I got a VIP invite so I couldn’t say no.”
Mr Manson’s laugh was just barely on the right side of blatantly insulting as he gave Tucker a sharp once over.
“You? A VIP guest? And who are you here with?” He asked nastily.
Silly man. Tucker’d clearly already gone through the flunky gauntlet. He shoulda known there would be an answer.
And the answer appeared in the far too handsome figure of Jason Todd himself, wearing a suit that at ground level? Yeah, Danny finally understood just how a good suit could fucking highlight a man’s figure.
Jason somehow looked even broader in the shoulders, well muscled but also polished, and Danny was almost too distracted to hear his next words.
“Tucker, hey, sorry I lost you for a moment. Are these friends of yours?” He asked, voice smooth as silk.
For a beautiful, glorious moment Mr Manson drew himself up higher and Danny almost hoped they wouldn’t recognise Jason.
He’d been “dead” a long time after all, and this was his first night back in public. And, y’know, he was about three feet taller than his last gala. And that new puff of white hair, that should have been a clue.
And then the other guy had stepped up on Tucker’s other side, his grin just as friendly.
“Hi, Tim Drake-Wayne, I see you’ve met my brother Jason and his plus one?” He said cheerfully, holding out his own hand to shake.
Something subtle yet twitching pinched in Mr Manson’s face. He shook Tim’s hand, then gingerly accepted Tucker’s still outstretched hand like it was some kind of unpleasant rodent.
Jason, still grinning broadly, shook his hand third, then turned towards Danny and Sam.
“And who is this ravishing young lady?” He asked, and both Mansons immediately perked up.
“This is our daughter, Samantha,” Mrs Manson said eagerly, neatly swiping her hand down between Sam and Danny to move her daughter to the fore.
Danny considered resisting, he really did, but not laughing was taking up a good chunk of his brain. Jason took Sam’s hand, bent over it and kissed her knuckles, blue-green eyes watching her through his lashes.
“A pleasure to meet you, Samantha,” he said but now his voice was low, sultry, and oh dear even Danny was getting a bit squirmy. Jason wasn’t even looking at him!
Sam twitched and her mother’s grip tightened to white knuckled on her elbows, clearly suspecting the temptation led towards violence. Danny and Tucker knew her a little better, knew the smile she put on was being held back from giggles, not forced.
“Same. So, how was being dead?” Sam asked casually, keeping up her usual semi-abrasive front. Mrs Manson gasped, but Jason just smiled wider as he rose.
“Restful. But we don’t all get to rise again, so I intend to take the chance with both hands,” he all but purred, still not releasing her hand.
Sam gently but firmly tugged it free, reaching back to grab Danny’s and pull him forward.
“Great. This is my date for the evening, Danny,” she added, giving her mother a very convincing sharp look.
Danny didn’t really notice anything else. Just that his hand was in Jason’s now, and Jason’s hand was big and hot, and Jason looked big and hot, and he was giving Danny that same smouldery look he’d given Sam. He had to lock his knees against shaking.
They’d had a plan. There was a plan. What the hell was the plan?
“A pleasure to meet you too, Danny,” Jason said softly as they shook hands, his voice still low and just maybe also holding onto laughter. Then he seemed to snap out of it, turning back to the others. “And of course, you’ve met Tim?”
Sam rolled her eyes and shook Tim’s hand too, and flicked Tucker in the forehead when he held his out with a shit eating grin.
“We went to high school, asshole, we do not need a fancy introduction,” she told him sharply.
“Oh, you already know Tucker?” Jason affected great surprise, moving very subtly until it looked like he was gently edging Danny out of the conversation.
It gave Danny a chance to check out his shoulders and maybe sneak a peek at his ass in those pants, so it was a win in his book.
Mrs Manson’s too, obviously, as she was visibly brightening by the second, even bestowing a warm smile on Tucker himself.
“Oh yes, he’s been one of Samantha’s best friends since she was just a teenager! Very close to the family,” she oozed, and Danny bit the inside of his lip to hide a grin.
Even Tucker looked a little shell shocked, but he pulled the smile back up before it became obvious.
“How did you two meet, by the way?” Mr Manson asked, looking calculatingly between Tucker and Jason. “I wasn’t aware you’d visited Gotham before, Tucker.”
Tim swooped in to field that one, so he was definitely in on the act now. What fun.
“Oh, they met through my work. Mr Foley here does some very impressive technical engineering, and I came across him scouting for a very prestigious internship position at WE. Jason came early to meet me after work on the same day as Tucker’s interview.”
And Tucker was right back to wide eyed awe. Quickly scooping his jaw off the floor, he puffed himself up, overcompensating a little in the rush of glee.
“Yeah! I was super honoured to get that far, and then Jason and I got to chatting on my way out. Of course I had no idea who you were,” he added quickly, grinning at Jason.
Jason shrugged modestly, keeping most of his attention on Sam.
“My unfortunate circumstances left my social life the real casualty I’m afraid. I don’t really know many people my own age.”
“Oh, perhaps you and Samantha can spend some time together then,” Mrs Manson gushed, immediately jumping on the opportunity, hand in the small of Sam’s back fully shoving her forward.
Sam narrowed her eyes, giving her mother a reasonably convincing glare.
“Mom, I’m here with Danny,” she stressed, reaching back to grab Danny’s hand and pull him after her.
Danny, still enjoying Jason’s shoulders from behind, nearly bumped into her from the sudden tug.
Jason gave them both another shot of that dazzling smile, stepping to the side like he’d never been blocking Danny. Which was a shame, since it meant the Mansons could see him again.
Mrs Manson visibly soured, then brightened again as Jason spoke.
“I’d love to spend some more time with both of you. I was just giving Tucker a quick tour of the venue, since it’s his first Gotham gala. Would you like to join us?” He offered, eyes still fixed on Sam.
She gave a barely mollified huff and allowed him to take her other arm.
“Fine. I need to show Danny where the bathrooms are anyway,” she declared, letting Jason lead them away from her parents.
Tim gave some quick apologies and hurried after them, all five teens falling silent to hear the Mansons as they left.
Not that it was hard.
“Isn’t that the alley trash Bruce took in?” Mr Manson asked, his voice barely quieter than his regular conversation.
“He is a Wayne now and besides, he has better prospects than that Fenton,” Mrs Manson hissed back, at least pretending to be more discreet.
Danny stifled a snicker as Tim gave him a sympathetic smile.
“Lovely people, your folks. Jason’s filled me in about them not letting you bring your girlfriend,” he said to Sam, and she rolled her eyes.
“They’re the fucking worst. I take it you’re in?” She asked, and Tim nodded enthusiastically.
“Oh, always. I get dragged to these things more often than any of my siblings, so anything to make it more tolerable,” he added with a modest shrug.
Jason snickered, keeping Sam’s hand in his mostly for appearances.
“Your own fault for buying in to the family business, Timbo,” he teased and Tim stuck his tongue out at him.
“Yeah, well, it’s your fault I’m here this time, so the least you can do is keep me entertained,” he shot back cheerfully.
“Jason’s fault? How so?” Tucker asked innocently, keeping pace with Tim and trying not to look like an actual puppy. Game number two, Fucking With Siblings, was apparently still on.
Jason rolled his eyes, very intentionally not looking at Danny.
“Yeah Tim, why is it my fault?” He asked, clearly not expecting Tim to fess up.
Tim, of course, grinned straight at Danny.
“He told us we could meet his new friend the danger twink if we came tonight,” he said, entirely shamelessly.
Sam cackled, her grip tightening on Danny’s hand as she shot him a spectacularly filthy grin. Tucker sputtered and nearly tripped.
Danny felt his cheeks heat, but grinned back.
“Danger twink? Really?” He asked, turning and looking up at Jason. Whoooo still wasn’t looking at him.
“They came up with it,” he said stolidly, just the faintest hint of a smile on his face.
Tim nodded cheerfully, but whatever he was about to say was cut off by the next call from the top of the stairs.
“Mr Vladimir Masters!”
Danny actually did trip, stumbling into Sam and pushing her into Jason.
“Holy fucking shit what?!” He gasped, head whipping around a little faster than should be normal.
Tucker stared at him for a long, slow moment as Jason’s hands came up, steadying the pair of them.
“You fucking forgot Vlad was coming,” he said with a slowly dawning awe.
Danny, really doing his best not to beat his head off Jason’s very muscular arm, buried his face in the other man’s suit instead.
“I fucking forgot Vlad was coming,” he mumbled into very expensive fabric.
Sam burst out laughing, letting her weight sag into Jason too so she didn’t have to hold herself up.
He, the unfairly muscular bastard, was having no trouble supporting both of them.
Tucker’s entirely graceless snort of laughter almost covered Danny’s loud groan, and he treated himself to one bonk off a flexed tricep.
Ow.
Solid bastard. His life was just awesome today.
—————-
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stop this Joseph.
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• QUEEN OF SWORDS •
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gojoed · 1 year
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GLASSES. | gojo x reader. | 1.3k words. | a/n: time - before shibuya
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The December cold was a little bit bearable in these conditions. 
People were walking on both sides of your body, voices could be heard from every possible direction. Everyone was walking in and out of stores, most of their arms were busy holding bags of every possible size. Families, couples, people who went alone were everywhere.
And meanwhile, you were stuck waiting for a certain white-haired man to come out of a busy cafe. Sitting on a bench that was situated across from the store, you would easily see the abnormally tall Gojo weave his way past people while waiting in line through the windows.
He was fairly easy to spot, being tall and almost always having a pair of sunglasses even when it was late at night. 
The cold of the bench was starting to seep through your clothes, chilling you slightly the more time passed. Hopefully Gojo���s order was ready by now, who knows what he ordered when all you asked him was to go see if there were any warm cookies in the cafe.
Breathing out your breath formed in front of you, your fingertips grew colder.
Maybe you should just ditch him. Your nose was starting to feel like it was going to fall off.
“Heyy, I'm back!”
Oh well speak of the devil.
Gojo was walking towards your bench, his loud cry caught the attention of a few people, stealing glances at him. It seems he didn’t just get you a cookie, but a warm drink judging from how he was balancing two cups in one palm of his hand and his other was holding a small paper bag. 
“Heyy, you’re back.” 
Your tone sounded flat, making his lips turn downwards slightly.
“C’mon, at least sound a little happy, I got your cookie.”
“I would if my ass wasn’t freezing over, Gojo.”
He muttered a small ‘booo’ under his breath before handing you the paper bag. It was warm, which helped your fingertips mellow out from the cold the weather gave them. After a few seconds of heating up your hands, you opened the bag, and pulled out a cookie out of the two that were in there.
Taking a bite, you looked at Gojo who was sipping on one of the drinks, he looked back at you and made a muffled ‘mm!’ thanks to the cup.
“That one’s mine, gimme.”
“And?” 
“What do you mean, and?”
You perked an eyebrow up at him slightly. He squinted his eyes at you from behind his glasses before saying what you wanted to hear.
“Gimme, please.”
You hummed, handing the bag over to him (you have a napkin to hold yours). He traded the second drink he had for his treat. The cup was hot, warming up your hands even more than the cookie did. You set it aside on the bench, in between you and Gojo. He seemed content sitting there, eating while watching people walk past you both. 
People watching was a habit of his, as it was yours. Moments like these between you and him weren’t rare, comfortable silence hung in the air rather than uncomfortable. You would like to think that mundane moments such as these were one of his favorites; where nothing or no one was looming over his head. 
A small tap at your knee broke the train of thoughts you had. While munching on your cookie, Gojo’s finger tapped you.
“Move your cup, no?”
Without thinking of his intention, you moved it to your side where he wasn’t. The moment the cup left its place, he soon replaced it. His thighs were pressed against yours now, tall shoulders met the sides of your arms. It seemed he didn’t have his infinity on, even though he was still working on it to cover himself. So you could feel his warmth. 
“It’s cold.” He said before you could even ask why he did that. 
You were a bit suspicious of him.
“Then why do you have that big puffer coat with you?”
He scoffed, as if offended that you didn’t know why.
“Cause it makes me look good, duh.”
it was your turn to scoff, muttering under your breath something along the lines of, ‘As if you need that to look good.’; all the while taking a sip of your too hot drink, it burned your tongue slightly, making you recoil. 
“Why do you even have your glasses too?” You asked him while not looking at him, now resorting to let your drink cool down in your hands.
“Lights hurt.” 
“They hurt?”
The buildings were all covered in holiday lights, you thought. But not too much that it would make someone’s eyes hurt. 
“Having six eyes isn’t all great y’know. My senses are heightened, even my eyesight.” 
“So your glasses help then?”
“Survey says, correct!”
“Gojo, I’m being serious.” 
“Well, so am I.” He stuck his tongue at you.
After he did that, he took his glasses off the bridge of his nose and held them out towards you.
“Check ‘em out for yourself.” 
For a second time you were suspicious of him tonight, but that didn’t stop your hand from taking them. With your drink in one hand, you put the glasses on.
“Holy shit! They’re literally black, what the hell Gojo!”
He chuckled, snickered almost at your response.
“I’m telling you, the lights hurt!” Normal sunglasses won’t do the job so I had to get custom ones made.”
Gojo watched you attempt to look around the brightly lit area with his glasses on. He could tell that you could barely see a thing with them on, for a normal person they were so dark that the bright lights would only faintly glow behind their lenses.
To be fair, light didn’t hurt his eyes too much. But he had gotten used to him ever since about a year ago, when he received his first pair from Shoko and Suguru. 
Plus, he thinks he looks good in them.
“Alright c’mon, I need them back.”
You quickly took them off, handing them back.
“Does your head hurt if you have them off for too long too?”
“Nah, not really. They just help with dimming the light.”
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Soon your drinks were gone along with the treats that Gojo had gotten. You offered to pay your part, but he had refused.
‘Have enough money anyway.’ He gave a you peace sign when saying that.
With stomachs satisfied and bodies warm you decided it was time to get up and actually do what you came here for. Gift shopping, of course, was the main reason before Gojo had insisted you needed a cookie to keep you warm. 
When you got up and stretched your arms out in front of you, Gojo did the same but instead did it upwards while sitting down. He stretched his abnormally large legs too. 
“Get up Gojo, we need to get our gifts for Shoko and Suguru.”
He whined at your words, having his arms hang behind the bench while his legs were still outstretched.
“But I don’t know what to get them.” He drew out the ‘m’. 
“Oh I’m sure you do, you and Suguru are basically an old married couple by now.”
“We are not!”
“Pretty sure you are.”
Gojo let out a dramatic sigh, got up and pulled down his puffer coat that had scrunched up at his waist. 
He casually held out his elbow for you to grab onto, and you took it. Whenever he did this he claimed it was so you “wouldn’t get lost.”
Gojo you’re practically a head taller than everyone else. It’d be impossible to lose you.
He led the way into the still busy street. 
“Alright, where to first captain?”
“Wherever you want to go.”
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hanayori89 · 6 months
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🐺✨Sparks Between Fang Marks: Bite from the Beast 1✨🐺
Eyes followed you everywhere.
And you weren't surprised. You definitely did not fit into a place like Ordon Village.
You observed the villagers going about their business in the humdrum rhythm of existence. Children ran past you, cackling as they caused a small gust of wind to gently roll past. You saw some gentlemen sitting around a fire by a tree, toothy grins and red plastered to their cheeks as they drank in merriment. A few properties away stood a woman, hanging wet laundry out to dry. Some of the towering trees swaying in the breeze released leaves that stuck to the fabric of the damp laundry.
It was certainly simple here compared to the conviviality of Castle Town.
You scratched your head as you looked down at your worn-out map, the writing eroded by the many fingers that held it before you. From what you could make out, the spring should have been before you hit the village.
You sighed, flustered. You felt your patience teetering back and forth like the many tree branches above. You picked your right foot up, letting out yet another dramatic sigh. You were hungry, sore, and growing crankier by the second.
But you couldn't have said no when Princess Zelda herself requested that you be the one to do the research on Ordon Spring. You stuck your finger in the heel of your shoe, giving it a small respite, then shoved your foot back in and made your way forward.
You noticed a bustling ranch up ahead. Surely, somebody could point you toward the spring.
As you approached the ranch, you saw a distorted image of a man. His features were harshly skewed, and his shoulders were so broad that they created an unbalanced rectangular shape to his body.
"Excuse me?" You called out to the man.
"Hylia, get into your pens! The lot of you!" He bellowed as he threw his hands up in defeat.
"Excuse me?"
The man turned and stared at you blankly. "Forgive me, I'm not from around here, and-"
"Yes, I can see that." The man snorted. "Let me guess; you're from Castle Town, and you need directions."
You nodded, self-consciously smoothing the collar of your tailored dress downward.
"I'm looking for Ordon Spring."
The man snorted again.
"Princess Zelda sent me." You asserted.
"Zelda sent you?" Another man made his way to the forefront; only he was much more pleasant to look at than the surely man before you. You couldn't quite gage the color of his hair as beams of light seemed to filter away the appealing darkness of it, highlighting it with blonde streaks instead. He wore garments that were expressive of what many of the villagers wore. A sash in the middle of his waist held up a tunic, which covered one shoulder, revealing the generous muscles in his arms.
He tilted his head slightly. "Princess Zelda sent you?"
You averted your gaze, unable to look at the rather handsome ranch hand.
He walked up to the fence, opening the gate and setting himself free. "Here, I can point you in the direction you need to go." He turned back toward the grumpy rancher. "Fado, cover me for a moment."
Fado snickered; his response was cut off by a cuckoo nipping at his foot.
"Why you little-!"
You stifled a giggle, remaining professional. The handsome rancher looked at you and smiled. "I wish I could say he's joking, but unfortunately, that's Fado for you."
You walked back toward the village center, where the kids still ran laps of tag. He lifted a bronzed finger and pointed ahead. "The bridge you crossed to get here; you must make your way back toward that bridge. Go past the south Faron Woods you entered to get here. The spring will be hidden to your left between the Faron Bridge and the south woods."
He looked at you with an expression of concern. "However, I do not recommend going now; it's getting pretty late. I can direct you to the village inn."
You could see exhaustion dappling against his sharp features. Despite this, he remained enthusiastic and warm. "I also must warn you, without anything to heal, you might not experience the powers of the spring."
You continued to dodge his intense gaze. "I guess I'm in the market for a paper cut then." This aroused a small chuckle from him.
"Please." His voice was as gentle as the caress of the looming dusk's sensuous breeze. "Please reconsider going tonight. You will be safer in the morning."
You shook your head. "I work for Hyrule Castle. I'm equipped to handle danger should I encounter it."
Sensing he wasn't going to convince you otherwise, he glibly responded. "Do be careful. There are creatures that lurk within the woods."
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You pulled your shoe off and held it upside down. A small pebble fell from it.
"Why did I wear these shoes?" You grunted. The sun had long set, and you made the grueling trek through the Faron Woods once more. The dense culmination of trees had grown sparse, signaling that you were now on the perimeter of the woods.
"I must be close to the spring. I must." Your stomach retaliated against you with expletives in the form of growls. A mosquito landed on your arm; you squashed it against your flesh with an absurd clap of your hand.
"Stupid bugs. Stupid shoes. Stupid appetite!" A sawed-down tree lay in the distance, sporting a nice smooth trunk that you could sit on and give yourself a much-needed pep talk.
Bending forward in thought, you put your elbows on your knees, cradling your weary head in between the palms of your hands. Your skin felt moist with oil, and you couldn't wait to shower among everything else.
You slapped your knee with a renewed sense of motivation. "Alright! I'll take a dip in the spring while I fill up my empty vials to bring back to the castle. After this, I will return to that village and get some grub and rest. That's the plan." You nodded, satisfied with your new itinerary.
You stood up, palms on your lower back, pressing your chest forward, attempting a stretch, until you heard the nearby bushes rustle.
You turned your head, resting your chin on your shoulder, scouring your surroundings.
"Probably a squirrel." You muttered to yourself. Until the bush once again made a disruptive jostling sound.
"Hello? Anyone there?" The only response you received was the penetrating silence of the forest.
You began to laugh at how silly your paranoia was. You marched forward, resuming your search of the spring. The sound of your footsteps crunched amongst shriveled leaves, along with the mismatched sound of footsteps from behind you.
A low curdle of a growl made you freeze in place.
You slowly swiveled your head around, coming face-to-face with a wolf.
You held your breath, deciding then that dying of asphyxiation would be more pleasant than whatever the wolf held in store for you.
Its blue eyes held onto you almost as tight as you imagined its fangs would. Something about the shade of the wolf's eyes was familiar. Warm. Thick gray tufts of hair were matted at its neck from whatever creatures it had clashed with in the woods.
Maybe the wolf ate, and it would leave.
Your wishful thinking in that moment of intense fear was the only real hope you had left.
"I won't hurt you..." You whispered. You weren't sure why you were trying to bargain with the wolf. You dropped your voice to match the soothing atmosphere of the singing cacophony of cicadas surrounding you.
The wolf stepped forward. The bargain was not being bought.
Matching the tempo of the wolf's steps forward, you lowered your hand to the zipper of your purse, remembering a pocketknife you kept for protection. The wolf's fierce glare seemed to cause the warning of the handsome rancher to echo in the back of your mind.
Why hadn't you listened to him?
You slowly opened the zipper.
The wolf took another step forward. Watching. Waiting.
"I won't hurt you." You reiterated it gently.
You steadied your shaking hand onto the hilt of the knife, removing it slowly.
"I won't-"
You couldn't finish your statement. Your knife fell from your grip into a pile of leaves behind you. Hot, searing pain drilled into your left calf. Sharp fangs sank into your leg, going slightly deeper, giving the wolf the control it wanted.
You shrieked in anguish as the wolf began to fling you around like a ragdoll. You dug your fingers into the soil as he pulled your leg, dragging you through the dirt. You yelled out, "Please, please, help! Somebody!"
But you were in the middle of the Faron Woods alone. There was not a soul for miles. Nobody would hear your screams. Nobody would witness your death.
Twigs, branches, and sticks stabbed at your flesh as the wolf continued to parade your leg around in its mouth. You heard an ear-splitting crunch, and you knew it wasn't coming from the leaves on the ground. Surrendering to your unfortunate fate, you cried out once more. Hoping somewhere in the abyss of bestial rampage, the wolf would stop. Somewhere in the wolf was a docile creature that housed that gentle gaze he gave you earlier. You just had to try. Maybe he would hear the pain in your voice, and he would stop.
Wouldn't he?
"Please..." you whimpered.
Raw, wet muscle and tendon shimmered with blood beneath a fragile glint of moonlight.
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Your body was levitating. You felt it- a feather amongst gentle currents of water being lifted up toward Hylia.
You also felt arms. Sturdy, powerful arms. Your hand shot upward, trying to feel the source of fortitude lifting you upward.
Did Hylia send brawny male angels down to deliver the dead to her now? If that were the case, maybe being dead wouldn't be so bad.
Until you felt a protruding muscle beneath your hand and the sound of a voice asking, "You're awake?"
The voice was animated with relief. Your eyes shot open as you saw miles of calming waters surrounding you. You weren't dead. Far from it.
Your head shot upward, witnessing your legs being bathed in crystalline waters- not a scratch nor bump in sight.
"The Ordon Spring?" You gasped. Your head fell backward, and you saw the kind eyes of the cute rancher. "You saved me?"
Instead of answering your question, he let his head fall downward, heavy with tormenting shame.
"What's wrong? What's-" Your hand ran from his bicep to his chest, where you felt a patch of tangled hair.
Long, gray, tangled hair.
Your eyes met his face, and you noticed a crisp patch of blood dotting the corner of his lips.
You began to flounder out of his arms.
"I'm so sorry." He mumbled. His eyes were filled to the brim with apparent remorse.
He kept prattling on apologies, but that wasn't enough to distract you from the blood smeared between his teeth and lacing his gumlines.
The ranch hand had warned you for a reason.
Only he wasn't trying to protect you from the other creatures.
He was trying to protect you from himself.
Edited:11/5/23
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metalsiren · 5 days
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hit the heart for a smol starter!
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frnkiebby · 13 days
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fuuuccckkkiinnnngggg asshole~🎃
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idontknowreallywhy · 4 months
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Estera - Ch 24 - Drive
Another one of those chapters which should never have existed but a few little snapshots just blossomed out of my control and before I knew it I loved them and they became Vital For Plot Reasons. Ah well, enjoy the meandering anyway :D
(What went before)
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Estera’s boot hit a loose patch of stones and she skidded slightly, putting out a protective arm just in case she was about to face plant the ground. Almost immediately a hand caught that arm and lifted her square on to her feet. She turned to see her friend alongside her on the narrow path, eyes full of concern. The edge of the cliff crumbled a little under his foot and her heart stopped for a moment.
“Scott! It’s not wide enough!”
He hopped back in line behind her and she regained the ability to breathe.
Mostly.
Eventually.
That particular flavour of adrenaline was not one she craved but she was beginning to wonder whether it was one she might have to get used to.
The group finally reached the car park to meet Gary on the quad bike who had towed the kit trailer up the long way from the beach. They all set to unloading and eventually Scott and three others lifted the quad itself into the back of van.
He walked over to where Estera was doling out the last bottles of sugary carbonated beverages to the rest of the group. He wiped the grease from his hands on to his trousers before selecting a bottle of water and draining it. Then swiped his forehead with the back of his hand.
“Well that’s one way to warm up after freezing your butt off in the Arctic Ocean.”
“As I’ve already told you, Mr Remedial-Geography, The English Channel is very much temperate.”
“Yeah yeah, whatever.” He removed his warm jumper and Estera nearly choked on her cherry cola as she realised Scott hadn’t just turned up in randomly fancy trousers.
“A silk waistcoat? Really?!”
He pouted. “I was here for a Board Meeting! SOMEBODY didn’t mention the nature of their “commitment” when inviting me along!”
“In fairness Dawn didn’t give me a lot of time to explain.”
“Ah, yeah… sorry about Dawn… she…”
“She was lovely.” Estera said firmly, not wanting to get the enthusiastic young person into any trouble.
She looked again at the trousers which had clearly suffered from being drowned in salt water earlier and were drying into a faded mess of wrinkles.
“That is not a cheap machine washable suit from the high street is it?”
He coughed. “I don’t recall Jennifer mentioning that as a feature, err, no.”
Her curiosity must have showed as he hurried to explain. “My EA at TI. Apparently the selection of ‘business attire appropriate to my position’” the air quotes were heavy “is not one of my strengths so I just let her get on with it.”
“She’s not going to be happy with you.”
“Hmm… I’ve done worse. And hey, the pants might be a lost cause but the shirt will wash, I cleverly left the jacket in the car and the vest is spotless, look!” He held the edges of the waistcoat out for her approval, much as a small child might show off how tidily they had eaten their dinner. Estera was about to wittily point this out when she was arrested by an ominous “whoopsadaisy!” and an unmistakable fizzing sound as the person standing behind Scott clearly forgot about what happened to cola bottles on quad bikes. A fine spray of sugary drink settled over both of them and Scott looked up from his now-slightly-less spotless clothing to catch her eye. She bit her lip and snorted slightly. There was a beat and then both of them dissolved into giggles.
“Tez! A word?!”
Gary underlined his sharp summons with a frantic waving of his iPad. Scott elbowed her gleefully:
“Oooooh, what did you do now, huh, Tez?
“Argh, please don’t adopt that one” she gasped, trying to compose herself “I haven’t the heart to tell them it’s awful… but… it’s awful!”
Scott’s eyes sparkled mischievously as Gary repeated his call with a desperate, slightly cracked edge to his voice so she had mercy and went to see what was bothering him.
Gary gesticulated wildly with the tablet, nearly taking her eye out.
“DID YOU KNOW?” he hissed.
“Did I know what?”
He stabbed his index finger at the screen which showed what appeared to be Scott Tracy’s Wikipedia page.
“Ah. Um, so… err… yes?”
“Are you telling me I made the Chief Thunderbird… the guy with the jet pack and all the… the insane stunts… I made HIM do the BEGINNER’S E-LEARNING?” Gary’s voice had risen to a barely audible squeak.
“I don’t think he minded?”
“I was giving him tips on judging the windspeed at the top, Tez.” Gary looked as if he was going to cry “What if they were bad tips? He flies a rocket plane… my kids have posters of him on their wall…” he whacked the iPad repeatedly into his forehead and groaned “They are gonna disown me.”
Estera tried to prise the tablet from his hands before he cracked the screen with his face.
“Everything ok over here?” Scott materialised behind Gary and the poor man froze, all colour immediately vanishing from his face.
“Gary was just telling me that his kids are huge fans of yours.”
The slightest frown crossed Scott’s face before he closed his eyes and chuckled “I forgot to use the pseudonym didn’t I? Oops. Sorry to have caused any alarm!”
Gary shook his head mutely and gave a double thumbs up, losing his grip on the iPad as he did so. Scott shot out a hand and caught it.
“May I borrow this for a second?”
Gary nodded furiously then covered his face with his hands. Scott tapped the screen a couple of times before raising his eyebrows in surprise. He hurriedly straightened his hair then cleared his throat and said:
“Scott Tracy here, reporting from the breathtaking Beer Head in Devonshire UK. I’ve been refreshing my skills today with this incredible instructor” he dragged Gary into shot “who is an absolute legend and if he ever told me to clean my room or get my homework done I would absolutely do that. Straight away. Thunderbird One out.”
He finished with a wink and handed the tablet back and clapped Gary on the shoulder. “Been a pleasure to meet you, Gary, thanks for letting me take part this afternoon. Hope I wasn’t too much trouble.”
“You’re welcome” came the slightly breathy response. Estera noted the starry eyes and felt they’d best get out of there before Gary did something drastic… like propose.
“Coffee?”
“Thought you’d never ask.”
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They made it to the cafe as the barista was putting the chairs up on the tables. Without looking round she informed them it was still too early in the season to expect late opening and her shift had finished 10 mins ago. Scott, already trying to remember whether there’d been any other likely places he’d passed on the drive down, smiled kindly as the harassed-looking woman looked up and he thanked her anyway.
“Wait! I guess I could do you something to take away?”
Estera seemed most entertained by the sudden change of heart but Scott couldn’t quite figure out why. Maybe it was a local thing.
Two triple shot cappuccinos (and a “Really? Triple? Are you sure?”) later, they were stood at the bus stop trying to establish whether it was running late, or Estera had just missed it. The wind had got up and she was now shivering in her damp clothes despite him insisting she wear his big coat.
“I could always drop you back home or… or near home?” He offered tentatively, not wanting to overstep given how upset she’d been before. “Or anywhere you like really.”
“Oh, but it would be a long way out of your way…”
“Not really. I’m not in a rush. And it is my fault you got soaked earlier.”
“That may be true…” she seemed to ponder and looked over at the digital tracker which was now displaying 55 minutes. She shivered and lifted her jaw. “Um, yes please, if you really don’t mind?”
“Come on then. Hope I picked the model with heated seats!”
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Scott hummed to himself quietly as he drove. Estera watched the hedges fly by and wondered how long it had been since she’d accepted a lift from someone like this. She generally felt safer taking the bus so this was… different. Not that she felt in any way unsafe, now. Just, exposed. What was one meant to do as a passenger? Talk about frivolous subjects to pass the time but not distract the driver too much, she reasoned. All small talk fled from her head and she suddenly felt inadequate and a little dizzy. Her hands tightened reflexively around the coffee cup.
“You doing ok?”
Just as before when he’d asked that simple question in that same disarmingly soft voice, she was unable to quickly formulate a convincing lie and the truth leaked out before she realised it.
“Just a sudden giddy moment.”
“I’m not making you motion sick, am I? I’ll slow down.”
“You’re fine, honestly. I just… let my thoughts get away from me. Please don’t let me distract you.”
“You’re not distracting me.”
She noticed he’d slowed down anyway.
She watched him out the corner of her eye and realised with a jolt how much better he looked than the last time she’d seen him in the flesh. Or rather, perhaps, how ill he had looked before. Whereas on the day the cave collapsed on them she’d guessed he was in his 40s, he now seemed no older than she was, possibly a little younger. Aside from the scattered silver at his temple, slightly darker shadowed eyes and a certain leanness to his jawline, he really didn’t seem much different now to the young man who had saved her life the first time. Which was slightly eerie. She knew she’d aged a lot in the intervening period.
She found herself wondering again what it was he’d been recovering from, what illness could have hit him so hard. He’d not volunteered the information, in fact he’d very obviously skated around naming it so it would be rude to ask. It was gnawing at her for some reason though. Definitely not light hearted car conversation anyway so she cast about for something else.
They came out of the trees and for a moment the early evening light highlighted the edge of the fading yellow bruise across the left side of his cheek and head. In the absence of any other ideas, she said:
“It must have been a very impressive black eye you had there?”
“Ugh can you still tell? It seems to have taken an age to fade this time. Maybe I’m getting old” he chuckled.
“This time? It happens a lot?”
“Heh… occupational hazard. I think Virgil’s broken more bones but I’ve probably got the concussion record.”
“Goodness that’s a bit worrying. Don’t you have helmets to help prevent that?”
“Yeeees. Sometimes even with it on if something heavy hits you…”
“Or you fall 20 storeys?”
“Yeah… they can only do so much.”
There was a little pause before he carried on.
“To be fair to our engineer I didn’t actually get concussed this time round so it did a pretty great job.” He looked slightly guilty “Actually to be one hundred percent fair to our engineer, who is a literal genius, it mostly happens when I take it off. Because sometimes it’s easier to talk to people that way, you know? But then of course I end up leaving it somewhere and so obviously then it’s not handy when I need to dive back into something which has… very occasionally proved to be an error.” He glanced over at her and did that schoolboy-been-caught-out cringe again. “Hence the concussion scorecard.” Scott refocused on the road and gave a wry half-smile “Virg is constantly telling me off for it.”
“I don’t blame him! You should listen to him and keep your helmet on, Scott!”
“Yes, Miss.”
“I’m serious! What would you say to Alan?”
“He’s still a child.”
“Ok, Virgil then?”
Scott was quiet for a minute as he approached a junction and indicated left before accelerating away again a little more aggressively than before. He sighed.
“It’s different.”
“How’s it different? Given the concussion record your head doesn’t seem to be any harder? Why are you taking less care of yourself than of your brothers?”
“I’m not. I just react in the way that seems best at the time. Sometimes that involves taking risks to help people.” He sat up a little straighter in the driver’s seat. “That’s my job.”
She frowned, the odd moment from earlier suddenly sharpening into focus.
“When I skidded on the gravelly bit on the cliff path… you nearly overbalanced yourself trying to catch me but I didn’t need catching. I was nowhere near the edge. Worst that could have happened to me there was a grazed knee. You could have gone over!”
His voice changed and became firmer, more authoritative. “You might have been injured. I couldn’t take that chance.”
“Of a minor injury versus potentially something serious happening to you?” She could hear her voice starting to rise a little and wrestled to keep it calm and conceal the sudden sense of horror that was bubbling under the surface.
“I don’t want you to sacrifice yourself for me, Scott. Not… not…”
The next word wouldn’t come out. But he’d clearly heard it anyway and twitched irritably, staring silently ahead, eyebrows furrowed. Well she’d put her foot in it now, might as well finish making the point.
“It’s not your job to keep me safe.”
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tonigiacopelliart · 2 years
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Hayden Christensen is quite literally the most beautiful man I have ever laid eyes on. That's it. Send post.
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wantonlywindswept · 1 year
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Good Dad Paz ficlet
i;’m fukkin. sobbing. apparently all i needed to write was an episode of mandalorians being DADS and loving their kids who knew
Post 3.1 canon divergence, Paz decides to go after Din on his epic roadtrip to Mandalore. din is sir not appearing in this ficlet
Mando’a I decided didn’t have an acceptable substitute in English that vibed:
alor: title indicating a leader
---
The day after Din left, when the Armorer reminded them that redemption could only be achieved through the Living Waters, Paz's first thought was, 'What kind of fool would go to a poisoned planet?'
His second thought was the horrifying realization that Din was absolutely that kind of fool.
Then Paz immediately started packing, because apparently so was he.
"Do you go to aid him, or to dissuade him?" the Armorer asked, standing on the landing pad below as he shoved supplies into the battered Z-95 Headhunter. It had taken another day just to requisition the ship, waiting for its return from offworld while Din's trail grew ever colder. The covert only had a few ships available and most were constantly in use; Paz's decision to requisition the starfighter had not been looked upon kindly.
"When has he ever done anything but what he wanted?" he grunted, wedging his assault cannon into the space behind the Headhunter's seat. He'd scrounged together enough supplies to last him a week, pulled mostly from his own reserves, and had items for barter stowed away should he make landfall on a populated planet. 
"He is an apostate," the Armorer pointed out, "Which makes him no longer our concern."
"He's an idiot," Paz countered, "And he'll get both himself and his child killed if he goes to that cursed planet."
He finished stowing the last of his supplies and jumped down, landing heavily in front of her. She regarded him silently as he straightened.
"Do I have permission to leave, alor?" he asked stiffly. 
Paz wasn't sure what he would do if she said no. He hadn't really thought that far ahead: a common failing of his, to do things without first thinking them through. He approached life fists first and blasters second, and most problems were solved through judicial application of one or the other.
That method never had really worked on Din, though, no matter how much they tried it with each other.
The Armorer considered him a few moments longer before inclining her head, and Paz felt just a moment of relief before she spoke again.
"Do you agree with Din Djarin's choice?"
He blinked.
"Alor?"
"Had it been your child in danger," the Armorer enunciated, "Would you have removed your helmet as he did?"
Paz stiffened. His gaze darted past her, to the edge of the landing pad, where Ragnar waited patiently to say goodbye.
Paz hadn't known, on Glavis, why Din had removed his helmet. All he'd felt was anger - not unusual, when it came to Din - and stomach-churning envy - also not unusual - from seeing the Darksaber finally returned to Mandalorian hands. Hands that weren't a Vizsla's, for all that Paz thought the damned thing was cursed. Hands that didn't understand what they held; hands that were, in the end, not Mandalorian at all.
And that had been the sharpest cut, a grieving wound reopened: to realize that one of his brothers, returned from the dead, hadn't actually been returned to him at all. 
Paz now owed Din a life debt; that was not in question. Din had saved his son, and Paz would repay that a hundred times over, a thousand times over, knowing that Ragnar lived because of his actions. He would protect Din's child or protect the fool himself, would walk on the surface of a death-trap of a planet and follow Din wherever he needed to go, because that was the least the man was owed for saving his child.
What wouldn't Paz do for his son?
The Armorer waited for his response, hands clasped in front of her. 
Paz looked away.
"I think," he said quietly, "That neither of us would like the answer to that question."
The Armorer said nothing. After a moment she turned to walk back into the caves; Paz let out a low breath and wondered if he, too, might need the absolution of the Living Waters.
Ragnar scampered over once it was clear that departure was imminent, and Paz didn't have to force a smile as he knelt down, gathering the boy into his arms as he barreled into him. 
"You're leaving now?" Ragnar asked, only a hint of a pout in his voice. He'd come a long way from the shaking, anxious boy that Paz had found, blossoming in the safety of the covert's care and Paz's own gentle guidance. "To find the Hunter?"
"To fulfill a debt," Paz agreed. 
Ragnar made an unhappy noise.
"It should be mine," he said, not for the first time. "It's my life that was saved, I should be the one with the life debt. I can pay it!"
Paz chuckled, leaning down to press their foreheads together, beskar connecting in a quiet singing note.
"You're still too young, and unless I go after him now, there will be no Hunter to repay. You are my foundling, and it is my place and privilege to take care of you. Understand?"
Ragnar sighed, and grumbled, and leaned back just so that he could tap their helmets together again.
"This is the Way," he agreed morosely.
Paz smiled and chucked him gently under the chin.
"This is the Way."
--
pt 2
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noxexistant · 10 months
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“you okay? …mo?“
“‘m’fine. jus’…need a secon’.”
“…alright. i’ll be here, alright?”
“yeah.”
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doingmybestrogen · 8 months
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Urban Design is my passion
I might post more stuff like this idk I bike a lot so I get annoyed about infrastructure a lot
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mari-monsta · 1 month
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You guys I think its extremely extremely important that you all know that I realized felixs eyecolor is a slightly darker shade of green today
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afrophunk · 2 months
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I think it’d be funny and adorable had these two met at one point. Yknow before the horrors-
We got ourselves more baby Emerald and her cursed shojo appeal that most people fall victim to. We also got @stephanos-spaceopera ‘s baby Tien because I think he’s neat. Also slaps a cheese slice on that head
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