#will be keeping future chapters around 15k

[britcision]

REPOST, ignore this if you read chapter 4!

(because this just fucking in besties, copying FROM tumblr online and pasting TO tumblr mobile doubles up the fucking paragraph breaks again, and I’m just deadass not fixing that 3 times)

ENJOY chapter 4, part 1!

Today’s chapter is dedicated to @lehana37

One day, beloveds, one day we WILL get to Sam and Dick… but not today, I was having way too much fun bullying Vlad and Bruce

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

Previous chapter:

First chapter:

———————

Pay Attention To Me Dammit

“Okay,” Danny sucked in a deep breath, surfacing from Jason’s suit to two deeply concerned pairs of blue eyes, “let’s get somewhere private real fast.”

Tucker snickered, helpfully extracting both him and Sam from Jason’s arms.

“I can’t fucking believe you forgot Vlad was coming,” he sighed, voice still shaking as he gave Jason a once over.

Sam, sucking in huge gasps of air, pinched his arm as she straightened.

“Oh shut up, not like you brought him up either,” she wheezed, still grinning.

“Vladdie’s gonna be fucking heartbroken,” Tucker sighed happily, shoving Danny towards a corner.

People were definitely looking. And not just the other four bats; regular guests were watching behind fans, hands, or just deadass staring.

Tim took over, catching Danny’s wrist and pulling the other boy after him. They weren’t that far off the same height.

“So, should I take it that “Vlad” being here is a good thing or a bad thing?” He asked, pulling on his best socialite smile, heading for one of the hall exits instead.

“Back room?” Jason wondered, guiding Sam and Tucker quickly after him. Tim nodded without looking back.

“They shouldn’t be busy yet. We can talk without being overheard,” he added to the other three, who obligingly sped up.

“As for your question, Vlad being here is… probably gonna end up being nothing?” Danny offered, doing his best smiles for the rich assholes they passed.

Sam kicked him in the ankle.

“Wait til we’re alone,” she said quietly, hustling Tucker along.

Unsurprisingly to Jason and Tim, the first back room already had four other people sitting in it, on two extremely plush couches, angled at right angles and facing a fireplace. Before Danny could turn to find another, Steph caught his hand and pulled him in.

“Hi, Stephanie Brown, friend of the Waynes, we’re gonna talk all about Jason’s adorable little crush on you but first, what did you need privacy for?” She asked, eyes bright with innuendo.

Danny grinned right back, already liking this one, and relaxed when Tim and Jason guided the others in and shut the door.

“Well, I guess you all being here means no one has to be found later… and the more eyes the better in this case,” he mused, looking over the other teens and young adult.

Dick waved at Tucker, grinning sarcastically.

“Danny. And Danny,” he added, nodding to Danny himself.

Sam hid a snicker behind her hand.

“That’s what you went with?” She asked Tucker, and he grinned entirely unrepentantly back.

“What, Jason said he told them who I was,” he said in his very best innocent voice.

Before they could get going, Jason raised a hand.

“I’m gonna guess there was a reason you snuck Danny in other than getting back at Sam’s parents? Vlad Masters,” he prodded, dropping to sit on one of the plush royal blue couches next to Cass.

All three Amity Parkers sobered immediately.

“Right… yeah, we should sit for this,” Tucker agreed, glancing around the room. Seating for nine was going to be tight, but… well, he may no longer be a teenager, but he was still seating-flexible.

Introductions were made as people juggled themselves around, finally ending with Cass, Jason, and Danny on one sofa, Sam, Steph, and Damian on the other, and Dick and Tim perching on windowsill or sofa arm respectively. Tucker took the floor.

Once movement stilled, Danny exchanged glances with Sam and Tucker. Maybe hoping that for once, he wouldn’t be doing the explaining?

He shoulda known better.

Sighing, he ran a hand through his hair and didn’t lean intentionally into Jason’s side. It was good to have another halfa around, that was all.

“Sooooo… cliff’s notes? Vlad Masters is a shady billionaire who uses some seriously unethical shit to make predatory deals with other rich folks to steal their fortune. We think he’s here to cement that flashy “b”, byyyy stealing your dad’s fortune,” he explained quickly, glancing around at the Waynes and adjacents he could see.

They did not look convinced.

Tim frowned, leaning forward on his knee and steepling his fingers.

“If you have proof of that, shouldn’t someone already be looking into him?” He asked contemplatively, eyes fixed on Danny’s face.

It was. Weirdly intense.

Fighting down discomfort, Danny shrugged.

“So remember when I said deeply unethical? Think like, mind control. He’s hard to investigate.”

“You make him sound like a supervillain,” Dick noted from the windowsill.

Sam raised a pointed eyebrow at him.

“Duh, we said “billionaire”.”

“Hey,” Tim protested, leaning around Steph to frown at her, “I’m a billionaire.”

She stared him dead in the eye while Steph snickered.

“I said what I said.”

“And you’re a millionaire,” he shot back sharply, eyes narrowing.

Sam didn’t blink.

“I work at a plant nursery my parents don’t approve of and pay my own tuition. My family are millionaires; I’m not,” she said plainly.

Tim puffed up his cheeks, but let them deflate silently. Jason definitely wasn’t smirking.

Cass leaned forwards suddenly, eyes darting around the room searchingly before settling on Sam.

“Masters. Your connection?” She asked softly, the others stilling to hear her.

Both of Sam’s brows rose, but she didn’t comment at hearing the other girl’s voice for the first time. She looked to Danny instead, raising an eyebrow.

Danny blew out a huff of air, ruffling his bangs.

“So… we… well…”

“He wants to fuck Danny’s mom and adopt Danny,” Tucker said bluntly, tipping his head back to hit Danny’s knees and grinning up at him.

Danny poked him in the forehead, but didn’t refute it.

“Yeah. So he’s kinda been my problem for a while. And he’s the mayor of Amity Park now? Is he still?” He asked, looking from one to the other.

Sam shrugged.

“Think so. I haven’t heard about anyone new.”

The Waynes and co were all kind of just… staring at them. Danny gave them jazz hands.

“And now he’s heeeeeere. He probably won’t make any moves if he knows I’m around, but we should keep an eye on him around Mr Wayne anyway.”

“And we can add him to the fuckery list, along with Sam’s parents,” Tucker added with a very satisfied smile.

It drew all eyes his way, ranging from intrigued to sceptical.

“How?” Steph asked, eyes bright.

Tucker waved a hand over the room.

“Black hair. Blue eyes. For one thing, Mr Drake-Wayne is even the same height, so if he sees you from behind, he could be confused. Dick’s not far off either. And best of all,” he added while the others did quick visual comparisons, decidedly smug, “we hint that Bruce is thinking of accepting Danny as an intern. Step one of Wayne Adoption.”

Sam’s eyes lit up with evil glee.

“Oh he’d do his fucking nut if you cozied up to someone richer than him, Danny,” she gasped, hands bouncing on her lap.

Danny hesitated for a moment, glancing over at Jason. Who was looking back, gears clearly turning. Seeing that he had Danny’s eye, he leaned in quickly.

“Vlad Masters would be Vlad Plasmius, yes?” He asked in a low voice. He’d scanned the database more than read in detail, but he knew the basics.

One very important basic.

Vlad was the other halfa.

And Vlad could sense other halfas. For a hot second Danny very nearly took off out of the room, ready to go find and kick Vlad’s ass and keep him far, far away from Jason.

He didn’t realise he’d clenched his fists until one of them was held in a large, hot hand. Slowly, shakily he uncurled them, checking for blood in the deep half moon crevices now dug in his palms.

Nothing. He was fine.

“Danny?” Jason asked softly, and Danny looked up to his face. There was something in his eyes, something familiar in the way they flashed a deep, sudden green when their eyes met.

Yeah, Jason’s Obsession was fucking definitely Protection, at least in part. Danny clasped his hand quickly, half worried Jason was gonna do just what he’d had to try so hard not to.

Would it have been that bad if Jason was just his friend, not his knight?

There was no way to know anymore.

Covering Jason’s hands in both of his, he gave Jason the best smile he could.

“I’m fine. But yeah, that’s him. And we… should probably also have a private word.” Because there was this sudden, very nasty little temptation curling through him.

“Would this private word have anything to do with Jason almost going full feral?” Dick asked with a studied innocence that had at least a master’s degree.

Which was when Danny noticed that the rest were all staring at them. At their clasped hands. At Jason’s still a little too green eyes.

**

Jason grimaced, fully aware of what they must have seen. He tamped the green down firmly, pushing against the wave of protect-protect-PROTECT the pit was damn near screaming inside him.

Wasn’t entirely sure it was only the pit.

Watching Danny tense up like that, clearly in the throes of fight or flight, pulled at something primal inside him.

Jason didn’t know who Vlad Masters was, what he looked like, what he was doing, but he was fully willing to throw him out of the building by the neck if Danny would relax even a little.

He threatens my king, something growled in the back of his mind and Jason’s hands jerked.

That was fucking new. And not fucking welcome.

He looked to Dick instead, giving him a strained smile. It was the best he could do right now.

“Yeah,” he admitted, not fully comfortable with how strained his voice sounded. How tight his throat felt.

Had the pit tried to use his mouth? Make him speak?

Just the thought made him want to puke, but he pushed that down too. He had shit to do today, and the pit wasn’t gonna ruin it.

“I told you he was helping me with the pit,” he added when Dick still looked calculatedly calm. Definitely not about to tackle him to the ground if he moved too suddenly.

Fuck Jason hoped Dick never tried. When they fought for fun, for training, sure Dick could hand him his ass six ways from Sunday. But when the green took over…

He didn’t want to hurt his brother. None of his brothers, ever again.

Except maybe a little bit psychologically.

“Fenton’s eyes changed too,” Damian said sharply, and oooh absolutely nothing in Jason liked that accusatory tone.

Not about Danny. Not about his king.

His head snapped around to glare at the youngest and knew his eyes had gone green again from the way the others recoiled. All but Sam and Danny. And Damian, suicidal little gremlin.

All but Cass, who slipped herself carefully but immovably back into his lap, hooking her feet into the backs of his knees and hands on his cheeks. Pinning him in place.

Making him look at her, not Damian.

She studied his expression intensely, her eyes saying more than even Dick could manage.

And there was a hand in his again, gently soothing across his fingers until his knuckles opened, and Cass let him look away to Danny. Doing just what Jason had done less than a minute ago.

Danny didn’t have to tell his secrets to anyone he didn’t want to. Not now, not the first time they met, not before he trusted them.

Anger-protect-not their business

And Danny smiled back, all gentle and soft, and Jason settled back, relaxing muscles he hadn’t noticed tensing.

Reassurance-calm-safe safe safe-trust

If Jason trusted them, Danny would too. And if that didn’t sting something right in his chest.

Danny cleared his throat, turning back to the rest of the room and giving them a slightly tighter smile.

“Yeah. I. Uh… I was exposed to the Lazarus pits? About a year before Jason was. So I know what it’s like when it gets too strong.”

Half truths at best, but close enough to be believed. To make sense.

Close enough that no one except Damian, tactless boy wonder, would ever ask.

“Only the dying can survive exposure to the pits,” the boy snapped, eyes sharp as he studied Danny in a new light.

Jason’s hands nearly clenched again, but this time Danny’s was in the way. Protecting Danny meant not crushing Danny’s hand.

Good loophole.

“The dying and the dead,” Danny agreed placidly, calm just barely tinted by amusement.

Jason closed his eyes, let himself focus on breathing in Danny’s aura.

Was that a hint of trouble-fun-plans plans mayhem?

Damian squinted at Danny for another long moment, then nodded sharply and sat back. Steph punched him.

“Damian, you can’t just go asking people if they’ve died,” she hissed in a comically loud whisper.

“It was relevant to the conversation!” Damian insisted, immediately sitting back up to defend his honour. Steph tweaked his nose and he properly growled, gearing up to tackle her.

“It was rude, Dami,” Dick coaxed gently, coming from the windowsill to the couch to scoop Damian into his arms.

The only one of them who could have done it and survived. Damian glowered up at him too, then folded his arms and scowled at the floor.

Dire retributions would surely be incoming.

“Hey, it’s cool,” Danny caused, grinning along with the others now that the tension had broken. “He just wanted to know I’m not gonna hurt Jason, right?”

All eyes turned back to Damian, who squinted suspiciously at Danny again. Jason was ready for the flare of protectiveness this time.

Danny was fine. He could handle the demon brat, even if Dick didn’t have him in hand already.

Jason didn’t want to hurt his brother.

Which caused a different, confusing flare of protectiveness because what he needed to protect Damian from was himself, and the self same flares.

He stifled a chuckle that would probably only make things worse.

Finally Damian huffed, turning away into Dick’s arms.

“Tt. Ridiculous. I only wished to be sure you spoke the truth,” he snapped, and the room resettled.

Danny raised both hands, grinning, and Cass shuffled to rest her ear over Jason’s heart.

“Okay?” She asked softly, moving her feet from his pressure points. Jason brought his other arm up and around her, squeezing gently.

“Yeah, I’m good. Thanks,” he replied just as quietly, resting his cheek in her hair.

“Well, this does also kinda simplify things,” Danny added with a chuckle, leaning back against the couch. “I can just tell all of you; Vlad’s also been ecto…. Pit contaminated. And we can sense each other, so he’s going to know Jason is too.”

That geared the bats back up, all turning back to stare at Danny. Who grinned utterly wickedly.

“So Vladdie gets to be on the rare and extremely valued double fuckery list.”

“Is he gonna try and do anything to Jason?” Steph asked sharply, posture tensing towards the door like it might open at any second.

Tucker shrugged, moving back to lean against the couch next to Danny’s legs. He’d wisely made himself scarce when there was a chance either halfa would make a break for it.

“Like Danny said, Vlad probably won’t try anything if he knows we’re around? He can’t do his mind control on Danny so he’s gotta keep it in his pants, even if he’d rather not.��

Sam brightened, catching on to where the boys were going.

“But because Vlad is like… Obsessed with Danny for being like him, there’s a chance he’ll wanna try and adopt Jason too,” she said slowly, her smile becoming full and wicked.

“And since we’re already planning to have me and Jason caught in some indelicate way to upset the Mansons,” Danny added, utterly self satisfied, “we can fry his brain thinking he can only adopt one of us.”

“And that’s after we make him play Find The Real Danny,” Tucker jumped in, grinning broadly, “because it’s not specific enough to track a single person in a busy room. Do you guys do accents?”

Tim and Dick exchanged glances and shrugged.

“Yours wouldn’t be hard,” Tim pointed out, a smirk pulling across his own face as he nodded to Danny.

“I’d like to know why we’re also fucking with the Mansons though?” Dick asked, raising an eyebrow at Sam. Who shrugged.

“They refused to let me bring my girlfriend as a plus one. So we’re gonna ruin me for men and make them think twice next time.”

“Wait, so you’re not dating Danny?” Steph asked, proving she had been hovering during their little meet and greet.

None of the Amity Parkers seemed surprised. Not by her listening in, anyway.

Danny flushed cherry red, Tucker burst out laughing, and Sam smirked.

“Not since high school,” she said casually. Danny groped around for a throwable pillow but came up short.

For some reason, Jason felt absolutely no need to protect his king from some righteous bullying. Another fun loophole.

Must be the lack of potential stabbing.

Dick grinned suddenly, now leaning on the other arm of the couch from Tim.

“Okay, but we definitely don’t tell this part to Bruce,” he said eagerly, beckoning all the others closer. “If Jason’s job is to flirt with Sam and defile Danny, we were also here to meet Danny as Jason’s boyfriend.”

“Let Bruce think Danny’s leading you both on!” Steph finished, clapping her hands and cackling. “Oh it’s perfect!”

Sam cackled along with her, turning a much warmer smile on the other girl.

“Oh, my parents would love to trash talk Danny to him too, they’ve probably already hurried off to let him know I’m “eligible”,” she agreed with the most sarcastic air quotes Jason had ever seen.

Steph lurched immediately to her feet.

“We’re gonna miss it! Okay, so our first task is to make sure Vlad knows Danny is here, right? So he knows not to try anything on Bruce,” she added to confirm, looking between the Amity Parkers.

Danny frowned thoughtfully, touching his lower lip. Jason tried not to focus on it.

“He should know as soon as we get within proximity of each other… so probably once we’re both in the big room?”

Steph nodded sharply, turning to point to Tim.

“We need to know what he looks like. Can you get us a picture?”

Tim nodded, already tapping at his phone and rising along with Steph, the fire of planning in his eyes.

“On it. Sam and Jason need to be seen to be flirting, but Danny doesn’t have to be with them. Dick and I can wander through the crowd, keeping an eye out for Masters but keeping our faces turned away. Cass, can you help with that?”

Cass gave a thumbs up, sitting straighter and resting her head on Jason’s shoulder instead.

“Yes. Can be Dick’s eyes, signal you both.”

Tim typed a moment longer, then lowered his phone and wheeled, turning to point to Damian.

“And you should all have the photo… now. Damian, if you can get as close to Masters as you can, you can signal us too if he gets too close to Bruce or us.”

Damian nodded and glanced down at his phone, all ruffled feathers smoothing as he tucked it away and straightened his suit.

“I shall watch him for any suspicious moves. I can also run interference if he approaches Father.”

Steph nodded happily and clapped her hands, pointing both at Tucker.

“And you can join me in spying on the Mansons and recording them if they talk to Bruce, for the rest of us to enjoy later!” She declared triumphantly.

Tucker shot to his feet, grinning broadly.

“Yeah! And if they catch us we can tell them Jason and Sam are doing something, or ask if they’ve seen Danny,” he agreed, bouncing on his toes. He stuck a hand out in front of him. “Ready?”

Steph slapped her palm down on the back of his hand.

“Ready!”

The room now filled with purpose, everyone came to join Tucker, sticking their hands in in a circle, even as Damian complained about “ridiculous social rituals”.

No one else seemed to mind, tossing their hands into the air as they all whispered “BREAK!”, not wanting to be heard from the hallway.

As the room emptied, Danny hung back, catching Jason’s eye.

“So I know you’re probably not ready to talk about this,” he said softly as Sam lingered in the doorway, her back conspicuously to them, “but I just need to ask you if there was electricity involved when you died.”

Jason felt his whole body tense, less than pleasant memories rushing to the fore. Broken bones. A blade in his leg. Explosion.

No electricity.

He could see the strain on Danny’s face as his mind cleared, and shook his head.

“No. Why?” He asked warily, suddenly very concerned.

Danny made a face that did precisely nothing to lessen it, looking away.

“Because there was when I died, and Vlad knows it. And he… he can control electricity. But you’ll be fine, well, other than the usual “oh no a bad guy is shooting me with electricity”, right?”

Danny was babbling now, clearly trying to distract himself, but all Jason could see was pure, pulsing green. Before he knew he’d moved he had an arm wrapped firmly around slender shoulders, crushing Danny to his chest.

He didn’t need to be told that reminders of a ghost’s death wounds could be debilitating. He’d have known without the database. Without the catch in Danny’s voice.

“If he ever lays a fucking finger on you again I’ll fucking kill him,” he growled, his voice coming out almost as low as his helmet modulator.

Danny stiffened for just a moment in his grasp, then relaxed against him.

“I mean, I can handle myself,” he protested weakly, voice somewhat muffled in Jason’s jacket, “but I’m not gonna fight you on that one, Jay.”

It soothed something inside him, something hot in the center of his chest that burned at just the thought of anyone hurting the man in his arms.

Attacking him. Using the pain and trauma of his death against him. Attacking his king.

A gentle hand soothed up and down his spine.

Safe-protected-I’m okay-safe

It took a minute before Jason could bring himself to let go, smiling sheepishly down at Danny.

“Sorry. Guess I’m… uh, not used to dealing with anything other than rage from the pit,” he explained weakly.

It felt stupid, comparing something as soft as the urge to protect to those bloodthirsty rampages. That didn’t make it any less true.

Danny shrugged, rolling out his shoulders and grinning up at him.

“Hey, like I said. Shoulda seen me when I first changed. Anyway, shall we go make Vlad’s night a living hell?” He asked wickedly, a cheeky smile on his face.

Jason nodded and made for the door, giving Sam a small smile of appreciation. She looked between the two of them and snickered.

“Yeah, rumpling you both up in a closet’s gonna be easy breezy,” she said lazily, pushing the door open again. “You should trade ties.”

Danny’s hand flew to his throat and he chuckled softly, then shook both of his hands out.

“Okay… time to go make sure Vladdie knows I’m around,” he sighed, cracking his neck. Like he was limbering up for a fight?

Jason cocked a brow, taking Sam’s arm.

“What are you gonna do?” He asked as they moved out into the hall, back towards the ballroom.

Danny shot him a quick grin.

“Expand my aura to cover the whole room. He’ll know I’m flexing, and he won’t be able to miss it. Should help confuse him about Tim and Dick too, since the whole place is gonna feel like me,” he added, and Jason grinned.

Alright, that was gonna be a useful trick. Time to see that famous Ghost King aura put to the test.

He wasn’t really expecting to feel a change really. He was close enough that Danny’s aura was still brushing gently over his, soothing the pit that he was right there.

Ready and close if Jason needed to protect him.

And then Danny’s brows furrowed for a moment, he flexed his shoulders back, and Jason was surrounded in pulsing waves of DANNY-DANNY-DANNY.

He didn’t know he’d stumbled until Sam caught him, her hand small on his chest right over the thudding pulse of his heart.

He barely felt her touch. All he could see, all he could hear, all he could feel was the raw power surging out of the man beside him.

Feeling Frostbite in the Far Frozen had been overwhelming. This… this rewrote the beat of his heart, crawled with his breath into his lungs, curled around every deep and intimate part of himself.

It made him feel tiny and delicate, swept up and held off his feet by Danny’s sheer presence. Crowded and pushed up against the wall, held in place, and Danny wasn’t even fucking trying.

Everything was right in the world. His King was here. The pit fucking sang in his veins.

Aaaand Jason hadn’t been this hard in dress pants since he’d been an excitable teenager who couldn’t help it. Eyes closing, he swayed back against the hallway wall.

He could just barely feel Sam’s hand still on his chest, a grounding point as he sucked in deep breaths. Heard her snicker as the ringing in his ears began to die down.

“You’re getting better at that, Danny,” she noted, and Jason hissed.

This could have been worse? More? How?

And then Danny’s hand was at his shoulder too and he didn’t need to open his eyes to know it. Knew the touch, the feel, the way the pit surged warmth to the spot.

Heard Danny’s soft voice as though it were being broadcast straight into his head.

“Hey, you okay?” He asked quietly, and Jason honestly wasn’t sure.

Think about Bruce’s old underwear commercials. Jane Austen novels. Alfred’s expression if Jason ruined his good pants this fucking early into a party.

Later, maybe, it’d give a flare of authenticity but Danny almost certainly wouldn’t be down.

Danny. There was someone here who wanted to hurt Danny.

Jason’s eyes snapped open and he sucked in another deep breath. It was still redolent of Danny’s aura, still cupping him on every side, but he had a purpose now. A job to do.

He managed a slightly strained smile.

“‘M fine. It’s just a shock.” He cleared his throat, reaching down to tug at the front of his trousers as subtly as he could. “Is, uh… is it always like that?”

Danny looked confused for a moment, still concerned, but it was easier to miss the pulsing beat of his emotions now. Easier to focus.

He’d protect Danny’s feelings too, but he couldn’t do that if he was overwhelmed.

Who knew he’d be this into feeling like he was drowning in someone?

Finally Danny shrugged, glancing out towards the ballroom.

“I wouldn’t know… it doesn’t feel all that different to me. Just like everyone in the room is now inside my personal space,” he added, pulling a face.

Jason stared at him for a long moment, wondering how the hell he was going to ask. If he even wanted to mention the effects it had had - was still having, cleaning guns, Alfred in lace, Vlad was still here.

Nope.

Just. Nope. Not opening that can of worms today.

If Danny didn’t know that just feeling him all around him like that was gonna send Jason to horny jail, Jason was just never gonna tell him. And if Vlad had an even similar reaction, Jason would double kick his ass.

Hauling himself away from the wall, Jason cleared his throat again and fixed his jacket.

“Alright… I’m good. Shall we?” He asked Sam, offering her his arm this time. She gave him a quick up and down, raised a brow, but didn’t comment.

“Sure you are,” she chuckled softly, taking his arm with a reluctant half smile, turning back to Danny. “Are you gonna stick close, or do you wanna recon Vlad?”

Danny considered it for a moment, moving with them as they returned to the hall. Then he shrugged.

“I might go take a peek, but if I see your parents I’ll third wheel back on over. You guys should go mosey,” he added, waving a hand quickly.

Jason nodded, tucking Sam closer, turned back to the room, and… froze. Sam, utterly unaffected, made it a couple steps forward before she noticed and turned back, frowning.

“Hey, what’s up?” She asked in a low whisper, eyes flicking around them.

Good fucking question.

Jason closed his eyes, sucking in a slow breath and trying to work out what had shot down his spine like cold water. Brows furrowed, he tried to will his feet to move.

Took a step backwards and opened his eyes again, frowning back at Sam.

“Alright, I didn’t mean to do that,” he hissed, head turning automatically… to where Danny had taken a couple of steps away.

Green surged below his skin, asking what the fuck he thought he was doing. Abandoning his post. Leaving his king.

There was someone here who’d hurt him, who’d used his fucking death against him, and Jason was gonna what? Not be close enough to break his fingers for thinking it?

Eyes closed for a moment, Jason weighed the odds he could just push this down and keep going. Felt Sam tuck closer. They did have a whole ass plan…

Felt a sudden wash of concern-what’s wrong-protect from the surrounding warmth of Danny.

And sighed, shaking his head, pulling Sam with him after Danny. With each step the green sung, a deep satisfaction not his own rising inside.

He gave Danny a sheepish smile and a shrug.

“I don’t think I can leave you alone. Not if he’s here,” he added a little more quietly, well aware they were being watched once again.

Confusion flashed across Danny’s face for a moment, then he groaned and slapped himself in the forehead.

“Fucking Clockwork… alright, we stick together. Tim and Dick will have plenty of fun with Vlad anyway,” he said, grin slowly spreading again as he tucked himself in to Sam’s other side.

“And we can have more fun with my parents,” Sam pointed out innocently, scanning the crowd around them. Shot them both a sidelong glance each, half smirking. “And I get two lots of cute arm candy.”

Danny and Jason turned automatically to look each other over, Jason’s grin broadening as Danny’s cheeks flushed.

Dick had said he looked a treat in this suit. Must have been right about something.

Suddenly Danny’s aura was all very studious and concentrated nothing to see here.

Jason bit the inside of his lip to keep from laughing, letting his eyes trail a little slower over his king’s frame.

Wherever Danny had gotten his suit from, they knew a thing or two about tailoring. It fit him well, emphasising the lean lines of his legs and torso. Didn’t quite square off his shoulders.

Jason still hadn’t had much practice with projecting his own emotions back, but he had the feeling his… appreciation got through when Danny’s blush darkened.

Grinning down at Sam, Jason patted her hand.

“Only if my code name’s Gummy Bear.”

A startled laugh from Danny was the reaction he’d been going for. Sam’s sudden, utterly wicked smile was a lot more concerning.

“Alright. Danny’s is gonna be Jawbreaker,” she decided, her gaze darting briefly down to Jason’s lips as she smirked.

Jason looked away quickly, his own cheeks uncomfortably warm as Danny choked.

***

Vlad Masters smiled to himself as he moved through the crowd, a shark among minnows. Their vacuous chatter was a soothing background noise; practically already the emptying of their pocket books.

Oh, he didn’t like to come to Gotham, not with that Bat that flapped around. The Bat didn’t like metas, or people who could do just a little more than curl up and die.

But, well, this had been an opportunity just too sweet to pass up.

He could dip his toes in Daniel’s new haunt, remind the boy that he’d never be too far away if he needed him. He could get a look at this son of Bruce Wayne’s, that had died and come back.

And just maybe he’d get a claw into Wayne Enterprises, and get a look at some of their latest technology for his own… uses.

Yes, Vlad was feeling productive just being here, even if he did have to keep his ghostly abilities on lock.

He drifted through the crowd, joining conversations, sniffing out weaknesses, moving on. Oh, some of these wealthy types thought they were hunters too, he could see it in their eyes.

He’d made his fortune by taking from those types of men and letting them see what true power looked like. It was much more satisfying to break a man who thought he was unbreakable.

Bruce Wayne wasn’t one of that type, but he had something that Vlad wanted. Still, the man seemed vacuous enough, all laughing and drink and flirting.

He’d handed control of his company to his teenaged son (and oh Vlad was a little jealous of him for thinking of that move… if only Daniel was more… pliable).

But Vlad could see himself letting Brucie keep at least some of his assets. The man was entertaining, and it’d show Daniel he’d listened.

He could change. In ways that weren’t too… inconvenient for him.

And then he’d have a shield in Gotham, and Wayne could deal with that meddlesome Bat, and he could pay Daniel a visit.

He’d just caught sight of his true quarry, standing in a small circle of fawning admirers when the felt the Presence flood the room.

It sent a shiver up his spine and he locked his knees, refusing to let any weakness show as the air filled with the heavy static of Daniel.

So the boy was here? Interesting. He’d have a chance to see his Little Badger even before he left the party.

He had seen the Mansons on the guest list and he had to wonder if the lad had finally gotten closer to his little goth friend. Close enough to be a plus one?

The elder Mansons would surely hate that, and make that hatred known. Unless Vlad were to… step in. Save the boy from their judgemental stares.

Remind them that Daniel may not be from a wealthy family, but he was still connected to the Masters name.

Yes, this was wonderfully good news and Vlad felt almost chipper, a spring in his step as he advanced on Wayne. Oh, the boy was flaring off, showing Vlad he had some power too, but Vlad wasn’t here to fight.

All he needed was to set up one simple meeting between himself and Wayne, and then all of tonight could be for his Little Badger. Imagine, Vlad Masters having the chance to play the hero.

He was most definitely looking forward to it. And ah yes, here they were, the Mansons already at Bruce Wayne’s elbow, chattering away.

Everything really was coming up Vlad.

**

Bruce had met the Mansons before of course, at other charity events across the country. They were… well, pretty much exactly the type of nouveau riche he kept his children away from at all costs.

Never impolitely, of course. Never letting on how their false smiles and honeyed lies made his gut squirm in distaste. He was always cordial, and could safely rely on the effect his smile had on both of the couple.

But they weren’t what you’d call close, even in gala circles, so it was something of a surprise when they sought him out.

“Ah, Brucie! There you are, good to see you,” the husband, Jeremy, called jovially as they approached, clapping him on the back.

Bruce gave them one of his better Brucie smiles, returning the gesture with a calculated firmness.

“Jeremy! Wonderful to see you,” he greeted them both exuberantly, eyes discretely scanning both to try and work out what they wanted. They always wanted something.

The wife, Pamela his mental rolodex said, simpered up at him, clutching at her husband’s arm.

“Of course we were simply delighted to hear that your son was found, we couldn’t possibly miss the party!” She gushed, letting her hand flutter over his. “You know, our Samantha is about the same age.”

Ah.

Well, that was a first. For Jason, anyway; Tim and Damian both had plenty of parents hopefully thrusting their children his way. Even Dick was subject to occasional propositions.

Jason had barely been his long enough to be considered eligible when he’d… well.

Bruce would mention it to Dick later, so his eldest could tease Jason about this latest milestone. Best not broach the subject himself.

He cranked the wattage on his smile down a little, looking carefully behind the couple.

“Yes, I believe I’ve met Samantha before,” he said genially, mind scanning through his gala notes.

Samantha Manson. Usually seen in elaborate pink and frilly gowns, always seen utterly despising them. Quiet, rebellious eyes.

At least Jason might find someone tolerable to talk to.

“Is she here tonight?” He finished, like he hadn’t personally memorised the guest list.

Pamela and Jeremy Manson. Samantha Manson. And plus one.

Plus one? Clearly someone the parents found less agreeable than Jason, and Bruce couldn’t help feeling sorry for the poor kid.

Jeremy was already nodding cheerfully, a sparkle in those eyes that put Bruce on edge.

“Oh yes, she’s off talking to your boy right now in fact,” he said with a very self satisfied chuckle, shooting Bruce a knowing look. “I think they quite hit it off.”

“Poor Jason was just telling us how few friends he has his own age, and of course Samantha would much prefer his company than being stuck with her parents,” Pamela trilled, giving Bruce a knowing look of her own, about three shades smuttier than her husband’s.

He could very, very easily believe that, even with as little time as he’d spent with the elder Mansons. Still, best not let them get their hopes up.

“How lovely! I’m sure Jason will keep her well entertained, he has his own plus one for the evening and he does thrive with an audience.”

He’d been expecting them to dim a little at the mention of a plus one, and if not maybe to delicately hint that the current partner was male.

Bruce might not personally know how serious Jason was in this new relationship, but he’d have his son’s back against any of the gala harpies.

He was not expecting them both to beam even brighter.

“Why, that’s the best thing!” Pamela beamed, clapping her hands. “His plus one, Tucker Foley, is Samantha’s very best friend! They’ve been close since high school, very close,” she added proudly, like she’d curated the friendship herself.

Bruce was beginning to think he’d have to mention he knew Samantha also had a plus one when Jeremy nodded happily.

“And of course Samantha brought along her other friend, Daniel from home too, so we were quite concerned the boys might run off together and leave our little girl on her lonesome, but your Jason really took a shine to her!”

Something sharpened in Bruce’s spine, catching at his attention.

“Daniel?” He asked, innocently as he could, and spotted Steph and a young Black man heading their way. Certainly she’d hang back to get more information. “Would I know him?”

Pamela’s face scrunched for a moment before smoothing back into a perfect, empty smile.

“Oh, I very much doubt it. The boy is from a rather disreputable family I’m afraid, very bad influences, but our Samantha has never shied from offering her hand in friendship.”

Bruce took a moment to compare this sentence to the young woman he remembered, barely covering seething resentment under a very similar empty smile.

Friendship. Yes, he could see her offering that to literally anyone her parents disapproved of.

But if this was the same “Danny” Jason was getting involved with, it was his fatherly duty to learn what he could.

He schooled his face to his best politely interested morbid fascination.

“Oh? Please tell me more.”

**

Steph and Tucker sped up as they caught sight of Bruce, Steph leaning in to whisper,

“Are those the Mansons talking to him?”

Tucker nodded, slipping around to the other side of her for partial cover.

“Yeah, that’s them… wonder what they’re saying, he looks so concerned,” he whispered back, and Steph snickered.

“That’s his “your problems are so fascinating tell me everything” face,” she explained quietly, turning to plant her back to the nearest small table.

This one held a small crystal sculpture that was probably supposed to symbolize something, but she wasn’t gonna look twice. Instead she slipped her phone out of a discrete pocket and hit record.

Tucker took a moment to admire the new tech, leaning around her with an intrigued smile.

“Oh, is that the new WayneTech phone? Can I see?” He asked, brightening up.

Steph grinned and shook her head, carefully angling it to point at Bruce and the Mansons without making it look intentional.

“Not the newest release, but the one before. Tim lost a bet so he had to give me some free upgrades,” she added when Tucker looked confused.

“But aren’t you one of the Waynes? Why would you be a release behind?” He sounded honestly dumbfounded and Steph hid a snicker.

He sounded like Tim every time she turned down one of Bruce’s toys.

“I’m really just a family friend, and I don’t wanna have to get a whole new phone every time Tim or his nerd team has a new idea. You can look later, I wanna catch what they’re saying,” she hissed and he reluctantly quieted, still looking at her like she was crazy.

Yeah.

Tim 2.0. She was gonna have to text Connor later.

Tuck pulled his PDA out and she half expected him to start recording too, but instead he pulled up a handy decoy screen so he could pretend to be showing her something.

And…

Tapped into the video currently being recorded on her phone. She raised a brow and he grinned back, tapping a few buttons and boosting the volume.

“There are some advantages to upgrading your tech,” he said smugly and pulled out a pair of earbuds, offering her one.

They pulled them out about five minutes later.

Steph clapped her hand over her mouth, fighting down giggles as she dropped the earbud into Tucker’s hand.

“Holy fucking shit to people still actually talk like that?” She hissed between her teeth. Tucker, also fighting laughter, stuffed the headphones back into a pocket.

“Yeah, honestly? My mom loves Saturday morning soaps and even she’d call that overplayed,” he snickered, shaking her head.

“You’d think Danny ate their fucking cat, what the hell happened there?” Steph asked, lips pressing tightly shut on another laugh as she made awkward eye contact with some passing guests.

“Honestly? Nothing, they just don’t like his parents, and that makes Danny a “hoodlum”,” Tucker rolled his eyes and grinned, flipping his PDA to a different channel, and then suddenly flipping back. “Aaaaand shit, that’s Vlad. This is gonna be good.”

Steph pulled the PDA quickly from his hands as he lunged back into a pocket.

“Quick, get them back, there is no way I’m missing this!”

**

Vlad couldn’t say he was honestly surprised to walk in on the Mansons telling some outlandish story that was almost all sly innuendo. It was why Pamela came to these parties after all.

What was surprising was the way Wayne’s face grew more and more serious as she spoke, painting a picture of Daniel as some kind of delinquent thug.

Which, to be fair, wasn’t an entirely inaccurate picture of the boy on his worse days, but hardly represented his best.

And if he reached into just a hint of ghostly stealth to come up behind her, well, watching Pamela Manson startle as he cut in with a well placed greeting was more than worth it.

“My, that does sound like a fascinating story Pamela! And you say this was young Daniel?” He asked, watching with satisfaction as both Mansons spun to stare.

“Brucie” gave him a sharp, almost assessing look too, much more thoughtful than he usually bothered with. Interesting.

Pamela brightened when she recognized him, beckoning him in.

“Oh, yes! Vlad, do join us, I was just telling Brucie here about some of those silly ghost adventures Daniel would pull Samantha into in high school!” She clearly expected him to join in.

Ah, but today Vlad’s role was to be Daniel’s hero, not Phantom’s nemesis. And maybe to see just what had managed to rub two brain cells together in Wayne’s famously amicable head.

He gave her a fond smile, nodding in greeting to the men and taking his place in their circle.

“Why, Pamela, I do hope you’re not disparaging my godson before Mr Wayne even has a chance to say hello?” It was a calculated guess, but honestly.

However Daniel got into this party (and he would put money on his dear goth friend Sam herself), he wouldn’t be introduced to the man holding the purse strings.

From the corner of his eye he also caught a very familiar red beret, and his brow quirked slightly.

Daniel, Sam, and Tucker Foley, all in one place. They must have heard he’d be coming.

How… adorable.

His smile spread as Pamela’s faded, even as Brucie turned to offer him a hand and a warm smile.

“Mr Masters, yes? I believe we’ve met at a few of these before,” the man said, all charm and sunshine.

Vlad shook the offered hand firmly, resisting the urge to just poke directly into his mind.

Tucker was listening. Best give him something interesting to report.

“Yes, I wasn’t aware you knew the Mansons too? One of our finest families in Amity Park,” he purred, giving them both an almost predatory smile.

Jeremy puffed up under it like it was actual praise, but Pamela was still watching him curiously.

“Oh yes, we’re going to be quite close,” she said airily, giving Brucie a secretive smile.

The man didn’t quite return it, the same friendly, open smile not changing in the slightest.

More interesting still.

“And perhaps you and I will be getting closer too, Vlad. Can I call you Vlad?” He asked, and Vlad’s smile widened.

“Of course. Is there something I should know?” He asked, half teasing.

Brucie’s expression flickered almost too fast to see. Something like actual thought under that big soft smile.

“It seems that my son Jason has been spending time with young Samantha and Daniel,” he explained, still sounding just the same cheery fool.

Vlad’s smile widened further, and he took a moment to reign himself in. It wouldn’t do for him to stretch too far. It could make people nervous.

“Oh, how wonderful!” He exclaimed happily, rubbing his hands together. “I was hoping to congratulate him personally on his return, it is quite a rare feat!”

And if Daniel was sniffing around him, that added credence to the rumours that the boy really had died. And possibly changed.

Now, if he could just speak to the young Jason alone, see how easily he could be swayed… if the boys were already friends, perhaps he could even plead Vlad’s case to Daniel directly.

Brucie gave him a dazzling smile, gesturing to Pamela jovially.

“Well, I certainly hope so! From Mrs Manson’s stories I was beginning to worry that Jason might be falling into some rough company.”

Vlad gave the woman a smile that would have chilled if he’d had Daniel’s ice core, but instead crackled with his own electricity.

“Oh, young Daniel may be a bit rough around the edges, but there’s no more loyal boy anywhere in the country,” he assured Wayne smoothly, and noted Tucker and the blonde girl he was with breaking away.

Off to report to Daniel, then. Good.

“Really, you can judge best when you meet him yourself,” Vlad all but purred, watching them go, “after all, you yourself know all about taking young men from rough circumstances and polishing them to a shine.”

Brucie’s smile was all proud paternal joy as he looked out across the room, and for a moment Vlad wondered how many of his interminable brood had actually come.

A young man was very suddenly at Brucie’s side and even the man himself seemed to startle, but his smile only grew as he clapped the boy on the shoulder.

“And here’s one of them now! Mr and Mrs Manson, Vlad, this is my youngest son Damian.”

The boy certainly had Bruce’s jawline, and the same wide eyes the press so loved, even if the eyes themselves were green. Any other similarities would be hard to spot as the boy fixed Vlad with a glare that could have been Daniel’s.

“Good evening,” he said curtly, and Vlad pressed his lips together to keep from chuckling.

“Why, such a stern young man!” Pamela cooed beside him, bending down to give her sweetest smile to the boy. Wilting just a little when he turned the glare on her.

Brucie’s hand tightened momentarily on the boy’s shoulder and his expression immediately smoothed out.

“I’m sure he’d much rather be off with his friends, but he was good enough to come tonight and support his brother,” Brucie explained cheerfully, giving Damian a proud smile.

“Wonderful to see young people who understand the importance of family,” Vlad nodded, keeping half an eye on the boy as he spoke. His eyes had narrowed just a little, probably looking for a patronizing tone.

At these kinds of parties, it’d likely be all he heard.

Still, Vlad settled in to make some idle small talk, whiling away the time until dinner. No serious business would be discussed until after the meal after all.

Perhaps he could persuade Brucie to introduce him to Jason.

**

It was Steph who zeroed in on Jason’s flash of white hair first, but Tucker who crashed almost directly into Danny and hissed the news.

“Vlad’s here and he’s complimenting you!”

Danny stumbled back to catch them both, staring in bewilderment.

“He’s fucking what?” He asked incredulously. Tucker nodded quickly, grabbing his elbows.

“Seriously, he basically told the Mansons to fuck off for badmouthing you,” he hissed, and now Sam was intrigued too.

“Vlad? Our Vlad? “Phantom is the greatest threat our city has ever known” Vlad?” She asked.

Danny elbowed her sharply and she rolled her eyes, but Steph definitely noted it down to ask later. Tucker nodded again, faster than before.

“Right? He’s definitely up to something.”

“Could be his new plan to win you over,” Steph added, closing the rest of the distance to tuck herself into the group.

Danny paused for a moment then grimaced and shook his head.

“Nah, it’s never that simple with Vlad. He knows I’m not gonna just hear some kind words and fall into his arms.”

Sam rolled her eyes, turning and firmly piloting their new cluster to one of the windows, out of the way of the less nosy eyes.

“Danny, it’s Vlad. He’s still convinced your mom just needs to be alone with him for five minutes to fall head over heels, no matter how many times she karate chops him.”

Which, yes, Steph was adding that to the questions list too, a smile tugging at her lips. She cut them off anyway, making pointed eye contact with Jason.

“Not that this doesn’t already sound fun, but I’m also pretty sure I just saw Selina Kyle,” she told him sweetly, and had the joy of watching him actually blue screen.

Just. Stared into space for fifteen seconds.

Then sighed and scrubbed both hands down his face.

“Of fucking course she is. Why not? Does anyone wanna call the Joker, see if he wants to join too?” He asked sarcastically, tossing both hands into the air.

Steph snickered and rose on her tiptoes to ruffle his hair, ignoring the confusion of their new friends.

“Hey, look at it this way. She’ll keep Bruce off your ass,” she offered cheerfully and Jason groaned louder, giving the window a speculative look like he was considering jumping out of it.

Tempting.

Sam leaned in, giving them both a sharp look.

“Who’s Selina Kyle?” She asked bluntly, and Steph paused for just a moment, wondering how best to put it.

How to describe the fucking disaster that was Batman and Catwoman to someone who couldn’t know either of their identities. Ah, yes, she knew.

“Bruce’s kleptomaniac ex-and-sometimes-current girlfriend. Every single conversation they have is riddled with innuendo and pussy jokes that she makes, and she’s been around since Jason was knee high.”

“So she’s got stories?” Tucker asked, eyes brightening as she twigged.

Jason turned and pointed his most menacing finger at him.

“She does not have fucking stories and you do not want to talk to her, she’ll steal the filings from your teeth,” he warned sharply.

Danny’s lips moved soundlessly for a moment and then suddenly the most wicked glee Steph had ever seen from anyone not a sibling lit his face.

“Jason… she has pixie boot stories, doesn’t she?” He asked in a low hiss, and Steph’s brows shot straight to her hairline.

Jason had only ever willingly worn pixie boots for one reason. Guess things with Danny were serious serious.

So how much had Jason told him?

From the way he was now glaring warningly at Danny, and Sam was rounding on Jason with intrigue, glee, and a complete lack of understanding, it was just Danny for now.

“We’re not talking to or about Selina,” he hissed, crowding up into Danny’s space and ooooh Steph wasn’t too worried about their mutual secret to miss that cute little blush on Danny’s cheeks.

Which also didn’t stop the man himself from grinning up at Jason, even if he did have to crane his neck back to do it.

“Does she have pictures?” He asked with a genuinely wicked glee that Steph just adored.

“Pictures of you in pixie boots?” Sam cut in, crowding up to Jason’s other side.

And now Jason’s cheeks were flushing red.

“They were in fashion at the time!” He defended weakly, and Steph had to laugh at that.

“Yeah, them and mullets,” she cackled and Jason shot her a scowl too.

“Weren’t you guys supposed to be keeping an eye on someone?” He asked sharply, changing the subject like that had ever worked.

Didn’t work on Tucker either apparently, and Steph liked that in a man as the Black guy gave Jason that pure and innocent smile.

“Yeah, Bruce and the Mansons, but that part of the show’s over. Damian’ll let us know if anything happens,” he dismissed easily, and Jason scowled.

Steph braced herself for the flare of green, especially when it had already been so close tonight, and was almost shocked when it didn’t come. When was the last time Jason had glared so much without it?

Maybe Danny did know what he was doing.

The rest of their families’ secrets notwithstanding, she decided that for the moment she had to approve.

It’d be subject to change, a bat never planned against new intel, but for now? She liked Danny. He was honest, easy going, and made her brother blush in ways she’d never seen before.

There were clearly secrets, but he’d dropped a big one on them already with his own Lazarus exposure. Secrets never lasted long in this family anyway, but Steph could wait on digging for these.

She had much more important things to do, like tease Jason mercilessly.

For now, she popped up on his other side to press a kiss to his cheek and ruffle his hair again.

“Well, I’m gonna go find Dick and let him know Selina’s around. Tucker, do you wanna find Tim? If he has you beside him Vlad’s way more likely to be confused,” she added innocently.

Like Tucker’s eyes hadn’t always lit up at the chance to hang out with Tim. She’d be offended if she hadn’t also seen the appeal.

The smirk Sam shot her meant the other girl definitely knew what she was doing, and Steph took a moment to grin back.

Yeah. Getting Sam Manson’s number before the night ended, preferably willingly. Girls gotta stick together, and mercilessly bully their mlm besties.

Tucker hesitated a moment longer, clearly also dying for pixie boot stories, but in the end his nerdery won. Surprising no one.

“Yeah, we’ll go spread the word,” he agreed dramatically, like it was all down to him. Then he pointed back at Jason, utterly unintimidated by a full mountain of muscle. “But I want pictures too!”

“No one’s getting pictures,” Jason said firmly, and Steph danced carefully out of earshot.

“I know where Alfred keeps the scrapbooks,” she called in a sing song voice, and was a little surprised not to even feel anticipation when Jason lunged at her.

Teasing him was usually a careful game, something she had to put her mind into. Watching the pit, calculating his limits, ready to fully run if he broke.

But he was so fun to tease, and it felt… yeah. Nice to wind him up like Dickie or Tim, or Bruce himself. Nice not to be prepared for a sudden attack.

It wasn’t like she’d have ever stopped if he had lashed out anyway.

Danny was good for him, for whatever reason. She shot them both finger guns, heading back for the middle of the room.

“Try not to get into anything scandalous,” she called, loud enough to turn a couple heads. Which would only help their primary, Manson related plans.

Jason flipped her off while Tucker hurried after her, chuckling to himself.

“So, scrapbooks?” He asked hopefully, and Steph shot him finger guns too.

“Not tonight, but it’s happening. We need a group chat.”

“We so fucking do.”

**

Bruce was not having a fun evening.

He’d been happy Jason had found a guest to bring. Over the moon, really. He needed a life outside of his crimes.

Less happy that Jason had held out on the name of his guest, only sending it when Bruce would be too busy to properly investigate, but he couldn’t exactly blame him.

Bruce knew he could be paranoid and overbearing, his kids made sure to remind him constantly. And Jason deserved privacy.

But it had quickly become clear that “Tucker Foley” and “Pit Helping Danny” were not the same person. Whoever Jason wanted to introduce them to, it wasn’t just his mystery date.

Fortunately one had led neatly to the other, the Mansons revealing the trick quite by accident. And they’d known a lot more about Real Danny too.

None of it predisposed Bruce well to the boy.

Apparently he was reckless, lazy, trouble prone, unmotivated, and a very bad influence.

It felt fucking stupid when he knew full well that Jason was a crime lord and official serial killer, but Bruce just didn’t want him to get into any more trouble.

And if this Daniel Fenton was still half the boy the Mansons knew, there was a whole other world of shady exploits he could be dragging Jason into.

Ghost hunters. Really.

Everyone knew about Amity Park’s “ghost problem”; a cheap way to drum up tourist dollars, just like Bigfoot sightings.

They’d tried calling the Justice League out more than once, but Constantine had marked it as a no fly zone. Which meant there was nothing supernatural there worth bothering with.

The regular Justice League had no time for claims of magical mayhem.

Vladimir Masters had been interesting too, both on the Amity Park perspective and in news about Danny.

As the boy’s godfather of course his opinion could be biased, but according to him Danny was a loyal, kind hearted young man. Still rough and tumble but hardly dangerous.

And he’d been right; Bruce had plenty of experience with that type of young person. He’d soon be able to tell just what this Fenton was.

But Masters could be a useful source there, both for information and potentially sympathy. He’d seemed to understand Bruce’s concerns quite well.

Perhaps after dinner he could catch up with the man again. Make some plans, a meeting somewhere a little more private, where his children wouldn’t all be listening in.

He didn’t want to give them the impression that he didn’t trust Jason to handle himself.

He was just.

Concerned.

Jason hadn’t been himself since before they’d buried him, tangled in that mess of his birth mother. He’d done terrible things, but he’d been lost.

Bruce would do all he could to help his boy find himself again, even if that meant taking a more subtle approach. He wouldn’t let Jason be taken advantage of.

Meeting with Masters would have to wait, however, because as they’d been chatting he’d caught sight of an unfortunately familiar slinky black dress.

He’d excused himself from the adults and slipped past Damian with a meaningful look, and followed her trail through the crowds.

She slipped through easily, winding between people and Bruce could easily guess just how many would be finding their pockets all the lighter for it.

He had to go a little slower, his broad shoulders making him more noticeable and kept him from her tighter squeezes, but she couldn’t avoid him forever.

For one thing, she clearly didn’t want to. He finally caught up at the foot of the stairs to the entrance, turned away from him to admire the lion statue at the base of the banister.

“Bruce,” she greeted without turning, leaning back and just knowing where he’d be. He hated being predictable, and yet… he couldn’t disappoint her.

“Selina. I didn’t realize you were coming.” He’d checked the guest list twice today, but there were always so many plus ones. He hadn’t invited her, but that’d never stopped her before.

She tipped her chin up to smile at him, hearing every unsaid word.

“And miss young Jason’s return? Why Bruce, I’ve known the boy almost as long as you have, I’m happy to see him alive and well.” It was a gentle reprimand, and for a moment he wondered if she’d expected an invitation.

If he should have asked Jason if he’d like her there. But then, which of his children had ever liked it when Selina came around?

Not least because she always broke the rules, and he always found himself letting her. Never the most important, never the one Jason broke, but…

Selina wasn’t his weakness, he didn’t have one. But she was a distraction.

He smiled back, calculated, charming. The one she liked to see in public.

“Of course. Have you seen him?” She might have valuable insights into Jason’s condition, though she’d refused to get involved since his… original return.

Not getting caught in family squabbles. He’d always liked that about her.

She hummed softly, leaning more of her weight into his chest, hand reaching up over her head to caress his chin.

“Not yet, but I’ll say hi eventually. Rumour has it he’s growing quite the harem,” she purred, and Bruce damn near choked.

Harem? Jason?!

“Oh?” Was all he managed, and even then he knew she heard the strain when he felt a low chuckle rumble through her back.

“Word has it the young Samantha Manson and her own date are both all over him. Poor boy, and his own plus one is being borrowed by half the Waynes. What have you been teaching those boys?” She teased, fingertips running just shy of his lower lip.

Definitely feeling where it puckered slightly into one of his minimal frowns. Nothing he’d heard about this “Danny” was setting him at ease.

Still, best not to let anything too real show.

“He’s always been good at making friends,” he allowed, gaze now scanning the rest of the room for his son.

Selina chuckled again, finally stepping away and turning to face him, giving him an appreciative once over.

“Now that’s a lot tamer than what I heard. I’ve heard that they’ve already bustled off to the back rooms, and reemerged en déshabillé,” she purred, and Bruce tensed.

Jason wouldn’t. Not with a stranger. Not at a gala.

True, it wasn’t on the (long, extensive) list of forbidden gala behaviours, but that was because it didn’t have to be.

Jason didn’t like following any of his other rules.

Jason was an adult. Bruce wasn’t… a fool. He was aware that quite a few of his children had grown up. And may, possibly, in an abstract way, have a sex life.

He didn’t like to fucking think about it at the best of times, but Jason? Who couldn’t control himself, who had those unpredictable rages?

No, he did not like that thought at all. His face must have set into stern lines because Selina’s hand was on his cheek again, brushing like she could smooth them out.

“Now now, Bruce. He’s twenty-two. Remember what you were like at that age?” She cooed, and that really didn’t help.

“That’s different,” he growled, keeping to the Brucie ranges with the iron control he’d prided himself on. The control Jason lacked.

Selina examined his expression for a moment longer then shook her had, patting his face just barely shy of being a slap. He caught her hand, gaze whipping round to focus on her again.

Just what she’d wanted, of course.

“Darling, you can’t stop him. You two are on rocky enough ground as it is, hmm?” She reminded him gently, voice low.

His grip tightened on her wrist, gaze flashing across her person.

“And if I searched your pockets right now, how many stolen rocks would I find on your person?” He asked equally quietly. Not changing the subject.

Just a good question.

Her eyes narrowed for a moment, then her lips curled into a smile and she stepped closer.

“Well if Jason’s left the back rooms free, you can search me as closely as you’d like,” she purred, pressing herself to him from shoulder to thigh.

And definitely felt him twitch in annoyance, grip tightening again. He forced himself to let go, step away, before his reactions could betray him further.

“Enough, Selina. Why are you really here?” He asked sharply, carefully balancing the line between Brucie casual and the answers he wanted.

She looked him over for a moment more then shook her head, half smiling.

“Touchy touchy. I’m here to give my best wishes to Jason, darling. Nothing more. And if some of these jumped up little pheasants find their tails a little lighter for it, I don’t think you really care, do you?” She asked rhetorically, turning away to slink back into the crowd.

Bruce considered following her. Pushing for more, working out what she really wanted.

It could wait until he’d checked the back rooms. Or found Jason. Whichever came first.

—————

Part 2!

#danny fenton dead and loving it #dp x dc #dpxdc #danny fenton x jason todd #dead on main #sorry guys #it turns out 18k is over the limit #will be keeping future chapters around 15k #cuz holy shit i’m not doing this again it’s exhausting #it keeps breaking the ding dang tag list #pay attention to me dammit pt 1

[crosshatchedaces]

My scrunkle (Fracturing Time Mikey) may have lost in the @rottmntpeepawpolls but he still loves his boys, even if Leo likes driving him up the wall.

I don't have a comic for ya since he lost, but I've got this and some random FT! facts below if you're interested in my ramblings

• I was originally actually going to do a F!Leo back in time fic! I had some ideas on what to do, it was going to take place during the movie, but the ending I had in mind was kinda sad tbh so I didn't go with it (though I do have a oneshot with all three going back instead now). Plus, there were already so many beautiful Future Leo fics out there!

• I then realized that there was quite literally only one other one of Future Mikey that I could find at the time (Mystic Hands), so I wanted to explore that idea more and give F!Mikey more love because he deserves it! I thought it would be a fascinating idea to go with too!

• This fic had originally been planned to be 10-15k long and just a short exploration of what could happen. The plot had been pretty different at the time as well, but it quickly got out of hand in word count.

• A part of the former bullet point was because I couldn't really find any Future Mikey fics to read lol so I just kept building upon my own. I also wanted to explore what his interpersonal relationships would be with each of the turtles, so he will be spending more time with Raph, Mikey, and Donnie in future chapters (currently it is at chapter 9 at the date this is posted).

• I love the idea that the movie parallels how Donnie and Raph died in the future, hence Donnie's death protecting Mikey in the fic.

• I have around 12 more chapters written out so far (just not checked over).

• I've tried to make most things that happen in the fic have some sort of connection with future chapters in some way, even some subtle, seemingly insignificant moments.

• I went out of my comfort zone with this fic. I wanted to do something bolder, something more plot heavy and what I wouldn't normally do, because I love reading fics like that. I often feel that I fall back on writing domestic aus, even though I'm not as interested in reading them, it's just what I was comfortable with.

• If I could go back, I would probably condense some of the beginning and make it pov alternating (but! I have snuck some moments in there, one of which is very soon).

• This fic is on a mini hiatus for a few weeks. I am neck deep in projects at the moment and work a full time job. I need to focus on those first before I can continue it, but I should hopefully have another chapter up in the foreseeable future.

And that's what I can think of for now! I'm not sure which person(s?) nominated FT!Mikey to be in the peepaw polls, but I want to thank you, it means a lot to me that you consider him to be up there with the other peepaws! He barely made it in there (32nd entry) lol but he's there!! I'm so glad there's fans out there that genuinely enjoy the story, and everyday I wish to continue it for all of you, you all keep me so inspired!!

I hope you all have a wonderful day, stay safe and cozy out there, everyone!

#okay this is my last peepaw poll related post imma keep quiet now lol #it was fun to be a part of it all! #rottmnt #tmnt #tmnt 2018 #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise of the tmnt movie #rottmnt mikey #future mikey #future michelangelo #rottmnt leo #peepaw polls #fanart #digital art #rottmnt fanart #comic #fracturing time #do NOT tag as ship

[dnfao3tags]

Monthly Fic Roundup - April 2023

hello there again :] dont forget to give all these amazing people a kudos and heartwarming comment !

also !!!! very pleased by the slight increase in fem!dnf fics this month .... i know there was a fem!dnf week going on for artists but if anyone would like then i could hold one for writers too .... tell me your thoughts !!!!

— apricity by fifishy (teen | comp. | 3k)

5 times George loves his best friend, and 1 time it's reciprocated.

— midpoints by nervouswaltz (teen | comp. | 3k)

George didn't so much fall in love with Dream more than he tripped, stumbled, and landed on the ground after a long slide down a hill. Falling in love with George, Dream thinks, was like tripping over the edge of the Grand Canyon and hitting the ground with a splat.

— afterglow by twostorms (teen | comp. | 16k)

Dream, George, and the next chapter of their lives.

— crystal clear by womanhunt (mature | comp. | 3k)

Dream comes home from Los Angeles.

— need you closer by 21questions (mature | comp. | 15k)

Dream and George are famous, and with that, stuck keeping their relationship secret. Their big reveal doesn't quite go as planned.

— sweetness (heart's content) by heartinhands (expl. | comp. | 3k)

Dream is incredibly weak for her girlfriend in an oversized hoodie. And her girlfriend's tits. Her girlfriend's everything really. Georgie wants her just as much though.

— soft by alisonsomething (teen | comp. | 1k)

George finally edits a video. After working on it all day, he asks Dream for a hand massage as his reward.

— craving your soft touch by Anonymous (expl. | comp. | 2k)

"Take a picture," Georgie says dryly, "will last longer. Or better, do something."

— Separate Poles Of Gravity by ivegivenuponyou (expl. | comp. | 6k)

He wonders at one point, with his hand around his cock, when it starts to count as an addiction, if you can even get addicted to masturbating, and then he thinks of Dream bending him over the weight bench and cums across the shower floor.

— you are the future (and the future looks good) by deathlytireddan (gen | comp. | 2k)

Patches' pov of her life with Dream.

— love me fully by next spring by brokenlikeastitch (teen | wip | 50k+)

George has never been one for blind optimism. His world has always existed in shades of grey. Shit happens sometimes and you put your head down and fucking deal with it. This time, though, this time he’s hopeful.

— beamish by findingahome (teen | comp. | 3k)

stargazing in a McDonald's parking lot.

— bury ourselves (reach for the sun) by wooowriter (gen | comp. | 8k)

In London, in a boring bedroom with boring walls, George realizes he loves Dream for the first time. Three years later, in LA, he tells him.

— Vis-à-Vis by Scoops (teen | comp. | 21k)

While they’re staying in Los Angeles, Dream’s Uber gets into an accident. Secrets are revealed, a road trip gets underway, and George finds out that maybe he likes taking care of people sometimes. Well, if that person is Dream, at least.

— somethin' stupid (like i love you) by snakeinaboyband (teen | comp. | 19k)

spending Christmas with Dream's family forces them both to struggle with the dynamic they'd settled into when George arrived in Florida. Maybe it's time they stopped pretending their friendship is normal.

— hands, knees, please by demonstars (expl. | comp. | 2k)

“I haven’t even touched you,” George is delighted. “You say you’re not obsessed with me, but you literally are. Look at you.”

— There Might Be by BirbWatcher, jestbee (teen | comp. | 6k)

George implies there's some truth to DNF on a live broadcast, all hell breaks loose

— living our life thru the stars by charoo (teen | comp. | 12k)

prince george makes friends with two boys that teach him how to have fun and be himself– happiness, pain, apologizies, laughter, and love follow.

— Give and Take by copperfic (expl. | comp. | 4k)

George laughs, glancing down. “They were with my stuff and I didn’t feel like digging through the laundry for another pair. He’s so short. Like can you believe how short these are?” “Yeah,” he manages weakly. “Crazy.”

— your house looks like it's heaven by preytall (expl. | comp. | 2k)

"It's the truth, though. You're a slut, George."

— Fool Me Once by VicIsWriting (teen | comp. | 2k)

April Fools day is the perfect time to ask your best friend out, right?

— you open like a flower by tippysleeps (expl. | comp. | 5k)

Dream takes off her shirt and George feels her brain white out. To see Dream in this context, all coy and expectant, with freckles and acne scars on her shoulders, makes her feel like the first person to discover desire.

remember that you're always free to send in any fics you'd like to see on the next roundup and i'll make sure to include it :]

#dnf #dreamnotfound #dreamwastaken #georgenotfound #dnf fanfic recs #dnfao3tags recs #monthly fic roundup #monthly fic roundup april 2023

[casuallivi]

The Midnight Kiss

Yes, I decided to put silly movie references in the chapters because this is who I was as a person when I rage-brainstormed 15k of pure chaos in a doc where I now suffer trying to heave coherent chapters from 🙃🙂🤪😵‍💫 warning to my future self: stick to oneshots your dumb b-

Enjoy. Comments are welcomed and cherished :)

Part 3: She’s thirty, she’s flirty, she’s thriving

“Coffee orders, everyone!” Miguel cheerfully announced. He slid the conference room glass door to the side, balancing drink-carriers in both hands, a particular orange and pink drink standing out from amongst the steaming and cold coffee brews. "E tu juguito."

"Oh Miguel, you are my angel!" Elain thanked him receiving her juice, orange and strawberry dancing in her tongue as she took a long sip.

“Nah. Tu que eres la angelita, Elain.”

“Is that something naughty?” she wiggled her brows at the curly-haired and green-eyed Assistant Editor, his face relaxed and his smile casual.

“You bet,” he winking at her. Then he turned to Azriel, extending him an iced americano. “Here you go, boss man.”

Azriel mumbled “later”, signaling for him to leave the coffee there, focused in revising the documents he held.

Elain planted an elbow at the table, her chin in her hand and sipped her drink, focused in watching her boss from under her lashes. He flipped a page, long fingers with clean and trimmed fingernails – no sights of that ridiculous long-nail-in-the-pinky thing some man liked to do, thank you very much – catching her attention. His hands were big and bronzed, thick vein pumping up as he flipped another page. She knew from experience the were able span the size of her face.

Elain swallowed a big gulp, continuing her inspection, eyes following up to his wrists, the navy button-up perfectly cuffed around it by elegant sapphire squared cufflinks. She went on from the sleeves to his large shoulders, his collar perfectly buttoned, the nice navy material stretching from his chest to his stomach. She wondered what was the situation there. Did he keep a smooth chest as he did his face? Did he had those perfectly carved abs like underwear models? Elain knew Cassian did, his perfectly shaped abdomen ending a sinful V that made her mouth water. She thanked the gram for blessing her eyes with pictures of his vacation to the Maldives.

There she goes again, thinking about his gorgeous brother, thinking about Cassian. Damn it. She warned Azriel this would happen. Did he listened to her? No! He only pleaded his case with renewed strength.

"You're his brother." She hushed astonished. "Wouldn't it be weird?"

"Only if we make weird."

"I can't simply stop thinking about him in the snap of my fingers."

"You think is easy for me to let her go? To make you this offer? I’m taking my shoot at our mutual obsession. It will be easier for us to understand each other since we are going through the same shit."

Elain cocked her head slightly, comparing the men. Azriel was a tad shorter than Cassian, leaner too, nowhere near the lumberjack trapped in the deep wildness thing that his brother had going on, still, he was fit and muscular, his clothes shaping his perfect figure, the grey slacks hugging his behind in a way that wasn’t forbidden but was starting to feel like it. Her hand landed on the soft pouch hidden beneath a pair of high-waisted jeans, her conscience grilling at her for comparing their bodies when hers had not seen the inside of a gym in forever.

Hypocrite. 

So what? She was a visual person. Elain admitted that Cassian was an anomaly in the biotype she usually went for. To her sister's dismay, Elain wasn't a physical activity enthusiast anymore, her physiotherapy days had sucked the joy out of that. Now she dated man who like to laze around on the weekends. Her last two boyfriends were homebodies, more on the skinny, short and mediocre side of the scale - they even had mediocre personality, yikes. 

Azriel did not fit in her nerd quota either... At least he didn’t ressembled a bodybuilder as his brother did. No, Azriel kept his body fit without his muscles threatening to rip his clothes off at any second. The man was beautiful without trying, regal, etheral. She blamed his face. There was something about that face, a symmetry that was hard to come across, his eyes a mesmerizing shade of hazel that appeared almost green at times, making her hands itch to snap some photos of him. His lips were pretty too, plump and kissable.

Her teeth sunk in the straw a little harder than necessary as she remebered just how kissable they were, Elain asking herself why she hadn’t noticed his beauty before, and what she should do now that she had. 

As if he could feel the racy direction her thoughts were going, Azriel side-eyed her.

“No coffee?”

Elain wondered if he noticed how his voice had changed around her, the usual snap of irritation on the back on his throat replaced by casualty, familiarity. A white flag, she supossed. As a result, her fighting instinct was triggering lees around him.

“I’m naturally energetic. You don’t want to see this fueled with caffeine.” She gestured to herself, Nuala, who was passing behind her, promptly agreeing. “No one does.”

Elain stretched her leg to trip her. Ignoring her, Nuala stopped beside Azriel, at the head of the table, taking a deep breath to announce,

“Ms. Gio latest collection is here. I told the guys to store it on the usual storage.”

“Good.”

“But we have a small problem.”

“What?”

“She will not send the jacket.”

Azriel’s hand paused mid-flip, the rest of the team stopping their idle conversation to look at their manager. The jacket was supposed to be the flagship piece of next month issue, the most import item ever created, according to Gio, who would not shut up about how revolutionary she was. Finishing her drink, Elain put her cup on the empty holder.

“Did you tell her we are photographing the entire collection on Friday?”

“Yes.”

"That I need everything here?"

"Yes."

"That I have no other day to spare for the shooting?"

"Yes."

“What did she say?” Edgy, Nuala changed her stance from one foot to the other “Words Nuala, I want her exact words.” He pressed, her friend clearing her throat to her best Bela Gio impression.

“She said, “This is my most import collection in a decade! You really think I’ll delivery my killer piece in the hands of a staff? Child, if this one leaks, I’ll drown you people in so many lawsuits your next three generations will still be paying me instalments. The jacket will be there in time for the shooting, not before, not after.” then her assistant took over, giving me the same hour-long instructions about how to keep the clothes stored.”

Azriel ran a hand over his hair, ruining his perfect side part, as he usually did when stress threaten to best him. Oh boy. It was brewing now, the big sermon the team would have to hear because of something that was out of their control. He blew an exasperated breath and Nuala’s shoulders hunched a little.

"I'm sorry." She said in advance.

Azriel ignored her for a moment, signing the last document, his assistant efficiently collecting the neat pile of documents in front of him, and scurrying away from the room. She knew better than anyone when his tantrums were about to come. 

“I don’t like delays, Nuala.”  He gritted his teeth.

“I know.”

“...”

“...”

“Get me Rachel. Tell her I’ll need an addition of six girls in standby.” 

Surprised, Nuala reached for her tablet. "Any particular spec in mind?” She wanted to give him no reason to lash out.

“No one taller than 5’5. No bleached blondes. No tattoos.”

“On it.” She returned to her chair, at Elain's left, already emailing Rachel, their usual booker.

Azriel messed hair, stressed. Bela Gio was a Diva with capital D and a short girl complex, who detested tattooed tall blonde girls since her husband left her for one. The last time she delivered a piece last minute, his model received a dress with sleeves that ended halfway on her forearms. Needles the say Gio annoyed him immensely, being one of the reasons why he hated last minute planning. When she was involved, the odds were against him.

Azriel sipped his coffee, cursing the watered down brew. His ice was completely melted. He pushed it aside, sharing an inconspicuous look with Elain, who quietly clapped her hands without making a sound, complimenting him for not blowing up. Azriel didn't feel accomplished. For a second there, he almost lost it.

“This won’t work.” Elain shook her head vehemently, golden-brown strands begining to curl where they stayed in contact with the nervous perspiration in the back of her neck.  

“Why not?”

“I can’t date an overly explosive asshole.”

Azriel rolled his eyes. “I’m not overly explosive.”

Elain made an ugly snorty sound. “Please, you can’t go a day without yelling your heart out.”

“It’s not my fault people are constantly stressing me.”

“See?”

“Fine. Let’s say I yell less,”

“You can’t.” She interrupted.

“I can.”

“You can’t.”

“I can.”

“You can't. I bet,” she fished a wrinkled note from her back pocket, “five bucks you can’t.”

He slapped her hand away.

“Gambling is a terrible habit. I’ll prove to you that I can tone down, and when I do that, you’ll say yes to me. Deal?”

“…I’ll think about it.”

“Since there's no point in discussing with Gio, I'll consider February done. Any addendums?" He asked no one in particular, heads shaking negativity in both sides of the table. "Good."

Azriel liked to be ahead of the schedule. The January issue had come out on the 5th, exactly fifteen days ago, and the February issue was nearly done, the only thing left to do being Gio’s photoshoot. Now he wanted to get starting on the following month, before Briar and Wendy headed for maternity leave and the team shortened.  

“Let's proceed with March issue. Nor the main interview, nor the cover are defined yet, so if you have any suggestions that you want to get out of your chest, the time is now."

Three chairs down to his right, Miguel lifted his hand. Azriel gave him the word.

“Vera Wang is celebrating thirty years as a designer in March. She's cover material.

Elain made an excited noise.

“You like Vera Wang?” Miguel asked her, and Azriel couldn't hide his surprised.

He honestly had no idea Elain even knew who Vera Wang was. Having known her for more than a year, Azriel was no stranger to her fashion taste. Elain had a particular style which matched her whimsical self, her clothes a mix of colors, patterns and fabric that somehow ended up going well together. At work, she usually favored t-shirts, paired with jeans or overalls. Sometimes she’d put a gypsy skirt or maxi dresses. For her feet, the choice laid in flats, sandals, sneakers and occasionally docs -  avoiding heels since she busted her knee in her teens. None of the items she wore were designed.

“No idea who that is, but thirty is a good number, don’t you think?” She twirled her pen in the air, pointing at Azriel. “She’s thirty, she’s flirty, she’s thriving.”

Azriel stared at her as if she had grown a second head.

“Thirty, flirty and thriving," she tried again.

Silence.

"You don't know that?"

Annoyed silence.

"Jenna Rinks catch phrase!"

Utterly annoyed silence.

"Really?!"

Nothing. Absolutely nothing on that face, on his posture. She saw no recognition going on for him.

Azriel only said coldly,

“Elain.”

All the eyes in the room subtly turned to him. They had only heard him calling her Archeron during office hours.

“Yes?” she said sweetly.

“Shut up.”

Beside her, Nuala snickered, well used to their blunt back and forth. Azriel would tell Elain to shut up at least 15 times a day. Elain, on the other hand, would front him for being explosive at least 20. Sometimes she’d fear for her friend’s job, but no one took pictures as lively as hers, and Azriel seemed to have noticed that as well. Although, judging by her sister’s party, Elain’s photos were not the only thing he was interested in. Nuala pretended not to see the two of them disappearing upstairs after their midnight kiss, but if Elain kept mummy any longer, she'd forget all about respecting her time and privacy.

Azriel gesture for Miguel to continue.

“We could do a pictorial of Mrs. Wang, interview her about her top 3 three collection; one for each decade of her work.”

On his left, Briar raised her hand. “Bluebonnets will be blooming soon. We could take her photos there. Mrs. Wang has favored blue many times in the last decade.”

“Flowers?” Azriel asked.

By the distaste in his voice, he wasn't happy about it. Briar lost her confidence, stammering,

“It will be spring by them, and,”

“Flowers. For spring?” he repeated with sarcasm, that particular tone he used to call someone stupid, without calling them stupid, coming through. “Flowers for spring." A single disdainful handclap. "Groundbreaking Briar, simply groundbreaking. We’ll certainly surpass Vogue now.”

Briar grow red in the face, sinking in her chair.

Nuala spied Azriel slide his tablet towards Elain, an old article about Vera Wang’s first collection opened on it. He must have like the idea of interviewing her. She raised her hand.

“International Women's Day is in March,” she began carefully. “We could mix a complimentary section in her interview to escape te boring "congratulations", select a few ladies in the industry who were inspired to pursue career because of Mrs. Wang."

"Which criteria are you using to select them?"

"The Revelation Designer Award will be announcing the winner on February 1st, and two strong names being quoted for the winner were Wang’s assistants.”

“Where is the award this year?”

“New Orleans.”

Azriel scratched his chin, pensive. Elain pushed the tablet to him, he scribbled a few words on it, then returned it to her.

“You up for a trip?" He asked their photographer.

"Sure."

"I want pictures of the event and a portrait of the winner. You do Wang afterwards."

“I can do better than portraits,” Elain said confidently.

She tapped the screen, sharply scanning photo after photo of Wang’s first fashion show, quickly absorbing the theme she had going on. Black vs. white, good vs. evil

“The cover can be all about her, shining solo. In the interview we recreate her origin. I’m talking double pages, elements from page one slipping into page 2, memorable light and dark juxtaposition as she did in her first collection. Seduction with a hint of forbidden. Nuala said the girls were her assistants, right? If one of them wins, the theme constructs itself; a pupil coming out of her teacher’s dark shadow to glow in the light. Nothing disrespectful of course, I’ll portrait Wang’s students as the fruit of her passion.”

Nuala let out an excited squeal. “That sounds amazing, and you know what. I received a call from Jammela last week, they are interested in sponsoring in exchange for exposition to their lastest gold collection. The ladies can wear the jewelry. Gold, black and white being the edition's theme."

“I like how you think.” Elain smirked, already constructing a scenario in her mind.

“I like how you think.” Nuala smirked back.

They both turned to Azriel expectantly. Everyone in the team was encouraged to participate in the decision of articles, themes, sponsoring, ad and interviews for the magazine. The problem was, if Azriel didn’t like the suggestion he would make sure to enumerate the reasons of why he thought you were stupid, loud enough for everyone in the room to listen. He usually accomplished that by yelling.

"You don't like it?" His muteness was like an itchness impossible to scratch. "We can adapt the parts you don't like..."

“No. I like it.” And he really did. “I’ll assign a team with Miguel, Nuala and you. You two seem to be on the same page, so pin us a mood board to visualize the idea better, and you,” he pointed at Miguel. “Draft me the interview.”

"You got it, boss man."

Azriel glanced at his watch, the numbers 20:45 glowing back at him, their clocking-out hour long past. He postponed the other decisions for later, dismissing his overworked team.

Yawns and tired groans were shared as they existed the conference room. Back in the common area, the employers went on to turn off their computers, and gather their personal belongs before heading for the elevators, except for Elain, who Azriel signaled to wait for him.

He went straight to his assistant, giving her the last instructions before she faxed the documents, the girl doing her best to pretend not to be looking from him to the photographer curiously. Failing miserably.

Azriel grabbed his wallet and keys, meeting Elain outside the headquarters, their steps echoing on the empty hall all the way to the elevator.

“Your car done?” He asked casually.

“Nope,” she pressed the button. “The mechanic said the missing part is coming from Maine, so it will take a couple more days. Do you think he’s trying to rip me off?”

“Probably.”

“Damn it.”

The elevator stopped in their floor, Azriel and Elain sliding inside. She pressed the “G” for ground floor. He pressed the ��P” for parking lot, and un-pressed her “G”, saying “I’ll drive you.”

"You don't have to,"

"I want to."

“...oh...thank you.”

The floors pinged on the panel on top of the doors, a nervous kind of tension filling the elevator as it went down.

35.

34.

33.

32.

Elain cleared her dry throat.

“What did you really think about Nuala’s idea?” Her friend had been ecstatic about her cover suggestion getting accepted. Elain hoped he was not leading them on, to replace the cover later on.  

Azriel dived both hands in his pants pockets, perching his ass on the safety bar behind them. “It’s solid, yours a good addition to it. If you can pull it off.”

“You bet I can pull it off.” She scoffed crossing her arms over her cheat, mildly offended he was doubting her skills.

“Gambler,”

“Doubter.”

16.

15.

14.

13.

Unexpectedly, she jerked her head towards him.

“Are you gonna kiss me again or what?”

A soft rouge tinted Azriel’s cheek. Elain thought it was funny how he kissed and dragged her to a bathroom, making the most absurd proposition she had heard in her life, but blushed when she was the one being blunt.

“Does anything make you embarrassed?”

“Lots of things.”

“You hide well.”

“Thanks.”

Azriel straightened himself, chuckling. “You make me childish with this crazy train of thoughts of yours.”

“I’ve noticed. Liberating, isn't it?”

"To be childish?"

"To be freer."

Azriel didn’t answered. Instead, pulled her closer by the waist.

Elain timidly raised her hands to his shoulders, grabbing them this way and that. Every way she touched him seemed uncomfortable. Feeling him up in the spur of the moment was one thing, getting ready to be kissed was another. Sighing, she went on her tiptoes in attempt to equal their heights, settling for linking her wrists behind his neck, her heart beating a thousand miles per hour. Karma was bitch, she barely finished laughing at him for turning red, now she was the red one, and nervous as hell!

Azriel had promised to take her on a date after New Year. Elain knew exactly  why he wanted to do that, knew his intentions weren't pure. He didn't want to take her on a date because he fell head over heels for her. He wanted to wine and dine her, to convince her she had no need for another man when he was right there, available and interested. His appeal was undeniable, and he was willing to let her use him to get over his brother, so Elain didn't feel like someone signing to a looser's deal.

To her disappointment, the date proved impossible to schedule with his January agenda insanely full. Elain had no idea her boss was such a busy man, but she refused to wait another day for this man to kiss her. The month was approaching its end, and since he kissed his way into her mind, she had fantasized about repeating the dose. The desire was strictly professional, of course, nothing but research to reach a conclusion. I need to know if we really have chemistry, she told herself. I can’t date a man I have zero chemistry with.

Nervous, Elain licked her lips, Azriel a breath away from her.

“Are you saying yes?” his heated whisper fanned her lips.

“I’m saying I want a kiss.”

“I’ll kiss you when you say yes.” His hands covered the width of lower back, Elain gasping when he brought her impossible closer, his thumb drawing iddle circles over her shirt. “I only kiss my girlfriend.”

6.

5.

4.

3.

How would she decide after the kiss when this man only wanted to kiss her after her decision? Damn him!

The elevator doors opened to a quiet parking lot at her back, Elain nodding shyly, lids fluttering shut.

"Words."

"Yes!" She half-snarled, annoyed with rigid way of getting her consent. Was it too much to ask him to swipe her of her feet unexpectedly as did for the first time?

She missed tipsy-and-oversharing-Azriel. This one could rot!

Azriel kissed her cheek, his nose sinking on her soft skin, inhaling her scent. He kissed the corner of her mouth, a hand venturing up to her neck, bending her. He kis–

"Lainy! My favorite photographer."

Brown eyes flew open in the speed of the light, feet dropping back to the floor, Elain bumping her forehead painfully against Azriel’s chin.

Cassian hissed at the same time as her, Elain furiously rubbing her forehead, stomping on Azriel's foot in her hurry to turn around. “You okay?” he sounded worried.

No, she wasn't okay. She was anything but okay! Someone, please, open a hole and bury her in the earth, now.

“Yeah… I’m fine.” My God. Nuala always joked that Azriel's jawline could "cut a bitch", and now Elain had first hand experience that she was right.

Cassian patted her hair. 

“There, there. Good girl.”

Oh my, he called her a ‘good girl’. Elain went to theaven and back in a second, the hidden meaning of those two little words paired with his deep voice turning her legs to jelly. Her head pounded. Ignorant to her lustful gaze, Cassian settled his attention to his brother, a sneer forming on his lips.

"Azzy, I need a lift. I have a flat."

#elriel #elriel fanfic #elriel fanfiction #elain archeron #azriel #elain #azriel shadowsinger #elain acotar #elain x azriel #my writing #the midnight kiss #part 3 #can you spot the acofas reference? #😂👌 #still don't know if cassian really had a flat #or if he made it up #he wasn't even supossed to be there #but he creeped on me! #the plot thickens #🤭🤭🤭🤭 #i like using repetition in my writing #the thing is #is very easy to become TOO repetitive #🥲🥲🥲🥲😂😂😂😂

[yourlavendermenace]

Steddie fic accountability:

6 months ago (!!!) I wrote a steddie retelling of Orpheus & Eurydice. It's 6 chapters, 15k. Then I got self-conscious about posting it. So... Here's my accountability post!

Coming this weekend:

Just a Telephone Wire and a Railroad Track, chapter 1

Steddie retelling of Orpheus & Eurydice (this means it's a love song and a TRAGEDY!), set post-S4 (Kas!Eddie)

Rated T

Preview:

Steve Harrington wasn’t going to save the world. He knew that. That was Eleven and Will and the rest of the Party. Steve’s job was always going to be putting his body between them and danger, keeping them alive long enough to finish the job, even if that finished him.

The “earthquake” had ripped great chasms open across Hawkins, but in the past few days, smaller gates had been popping like stitches all over town. They found one in a tree Nancy had once climbed through, back in ‘83. This morning, the one at the bottom of the Harrington’s pool had yawned open.

Steve spotted it from his bedroom window. He didn’t bother to sneak when he took a beer from the fridge and a cigarette from his mom’s purse. He went to the backyard and sat on the edge of the empty pool, feet dangling over the deep end. He lit the cigarette.

The slash at the bottom of the pool looked like a grimace. Ashes and spores rose from it, mingling with his cigarette smoke. He used to worry about inhaling that Upside Down stuff. He remembered tying a bandana around his mouth in the tunnels beneath Hawkins, trying not to breathe that shit in. It had been two weeks since they’d emerged from the Upside Down, and Steve could still feel that stuff eating up his lungs.

He stuck his hand out, letting the debris of that other world float up between his fingers, bumping gently against his palm. He wondered if the particles were connected to Vecna’s hive mind, if he felt Steve’s fingers disrupting their flight. Maybe these motes were in communication with the ash that had no doubt settled over Eddie’s body, the closest thing he would get to a grave.

Steve wished he could put his life in the big tape rewinder at Family Video. Go back to one of the many times Eddie had knocked his shoulder into Steve’s body, and this time Steve would reach out and grab him. Tell him to run away or change tactics or trade places with him on the mission. Tell him he was too important to die, that dying for these dipshits was Steve’s job.

Because Steve knew the vision of his future he’d described to Nancy was a fantasy. A family and a normal life where nothing was trying to kill him. But even now, that impossible future had shifted in his mind. For the longest time, he had imagined some vague blur of a woman beside him in the RV, but now… it was Eddie.

Eddie laughing at his jokes. Eddie making a face at his music, swapping for one of his tapes. Eddie scolding one of their kids to put their seatbelt on. Eddie pulling one of the little ones into his lap, pointing at the scenery though the windshield.

Eddie made Steve feel solid and real for the first time in a long time. Made him feel alive in his body, something separate from his static, someone made of flesh and blood. For turning down the volume of the static, Eddie was better than putting a bat through a demogorgon. 

But Steve knew his fate had been sealed in November of ‘83 when he didn’t get in his car and drive away from the Byers’ house. He didn’t regret it. He had his kids already, it turned out, and he would be happy to die for their survival.

Steve drew a finger through the ash and cigarette smoke, tracing the shape of a bat. He was picturing the ones tattooed on Eddie’s forearm. The particles floated together, clumping up inside the shape he had traced. Steve shut his eyes and shook his head to clear, but when he opened them the bat was still there. It was a foot across, ash and spores swirling together into something that looked almost like TV static. 

It flapped its wings.

#steddie #my fic #writing #stranger things

[jounosparticles]

i have not updated on the suegiku slow burn ive written in a while sorry!!! but here’s an update now

i was initially going to release them by a chapter-to-chapter basis but figured i’d do it all (or a huge chunk of it) at once since i keep going and changing small things from the beginning to flow if better. so i’m sorry to those i said i was going to have the first chapter out a Long time ago. i added a lot since.

i’m somewhere between 14k-15k words right now. aiming for it to only be like 20k-25k words. which isn’t huge but i don’t want to fill it with samey padding either

i had to add an original character as a villain plot device however i didn’t keep him around too long so i Hope that isn’t a dealbreaker. he’s just there to give us our setting and reason to be in said setting

annnddd uhhh. i’m worried it’s going to sound too padded out the way i’m writing it now. im hoping the future pacing doesn’t feel off after it’s fully written outside of a framework. if not i’ll have to adjust.

but the framework Is complete and i know how i want it to end so the writing process shouldn’t be too much longer. don’t expect something top tier but i’m hoping it isn’t too bad. i’ll update again as i write when it’s done.

i’m not a hugely experienced writer so it’s a bit of a challenge (but fun regardless!!).

#holy fucking hell try not to ramble challenge #tumblr is the app for rambling. it’s perfect for me #better than making a 10 tweet twitter thread. ive probably annoyed soo many people that way lol #writing updates #axls rambling

[stevespookington]

💬 talking about fic 📝 ori's wips tag 🎨art blog: @oriarts 🖋writing blog: @oriscribes

prev stevecarrington ITS SPOOKY TIME (also steve carrington and steve harrington)

latest update:

after all this time (i'm still into you) | 15k 3/6(?) | big bang fic!

Steve just wanted to keep working on his TV show, but due to some clauses buried in his contract he'd been coerced into a fake dating scheme. Which was especially stupid because Munson didn’t even like him. Steve should know, Munson had already rejected him years ago. Eddie just wanted to keep his head down until his contract ran out so he could get back to writing with Corroded Coffin instead of doing this idol shit. He wasn't counting on getting outed and having to do damage control... by pretending to date someone who he maybe sorta had (has?) a huge crush on. OR: Steve pretends that if he keeps calling Eddie by his last name then he won’t develop any feelings to go with that crush he'd been trying to forget about. Meanwhile, Eddie is trying to figure out what went wrong years ago and if this time could be different.

currently working on:

after all this time (i'm still into you) | 9.6k 2/6(?) | big bang fic!

Steve just wanted to keep working on his TV show, but due to some clauses buried in his contract he'd been coerced into a fake dating scheme. Which was especially stupid because Munson didn’t even like him. Steve should know, Munson had already rejected him years ago. Eddie just wanted to keep his head down until his contract ran out so he could get back to writing with Corroded Coffin instead of doing this idol shit. He wasn't counting on getting outed and having to do damage control... by pretending to date someone who he maybe sorta had (has?) a huge crush on. OR: Steve pretends that if he keeps calling Eddie by his last name then he won’t develop any feelings to go with that crush he'd been trying to forget about. Meanwhile, Eddie is trying to figure out what went wrong years ago and if this time could be different.

different places (different fate?) | 2.1k 1/? | aka role reversal au

part 1, part 2, #steddie role reversal au Dustin swung around, suddenly interested. He asked Eddie to tell him the message or something, his voice faded out of Eddie’s perception, he wasn’t listening. Instead he watched the TV screen with shock. His jaw dropped as he read the alert across the bottom of the screen “Body found, investigations ongoing.” The news crew was outside Harrington’s house. 

multi-chapter fics

a heart's a heavy burden | 8.9k 4/6 (will be back to this after hallmark au is done) #hmc!steddie

Steve Harrington was born an only child to boring parents who both were only children and whose parents were only children and so on. They were perfectly content with a boring life; they were well to do and kept a hat shop in the prosperous part of Hawkins. Steve decided early on that it might not be the most glamorous option, but that he would make it work. And so, Steve worked hard and he listened. By listening to the stories of the land, he soon realized how little chance he had of an interesting future. However, destiny is a funny thing, and in the land of fantasy, Steve soon finds himself on an adventure with his friend Dustin, a strange wizard named Eddie, a fire that loves waffles, and a magical castle after a curse lands Steve with knobby knees and more wrinkles than he can count. aka a howl’s moving castle au

it's christmas eve again | 38k. 13/13 | a hallmark au with a twist

Eddie didn’t know why he was sharing this, he usually never shared this much about himself. But something about how this man’s eyes twinkled seemed to almost compel him. “Holidays you know? And I’m looking forward to seeing my Uncle, but so much has changed… and I got a dumb blind date to go to before I head home.” The man raised fluffy white eyebrows in reply. “Maybe it will be a good one? You never know, a date on Christmas Eve? Could be magical.” A laugh slipped past Eddie’s lips. “Magical? With a guy named Steven? I don’t think so, sorry. I really doubt it, he evidently used to babysit my Uncle’s fiancee’s kid. I mean I like the kid alright. But his old babysitter? I don’t think so.” The plane jerked to a halt and people started moving towards their carry-on bags. “Well, never laugh at fate, my boy, it might just laugh back.” or: fate very much laughs at one Eddie Munson and he finds himself searching for some holiday magic. or: Santa was trying to set him up with Steve fucking Harrington.

no longer theoretical | 5.7k 2/2

“Totally and utterly.” Robin paused before her attention flitted across the store to a tape, probably something for them to watch on their morning shift. Steve swallowed, this was his chance. He had been working up to this for weeks, months even. But something the other day finally pushed his passive musing up to action. “Hey, Robin?” She paused on her journey across the store before turning back to look at Steve. “Yeah?” “What if…” Steve paused and closed his eyes. He swallowed and looked back up at Robin before quietly continuing. “What if I do know what I want?” aka: steve comes out to robin

oneshots

rushing home to you | 1.5k | There were many things Eddie could put up with while dealing with a huge crush on Steve. But Steve standing in their entryway slinging on a jacket over another one of his stupid polos and asking him if he wanted to go watch a romcom with him was not one of those things. 

java chip frappes are always the answer | 1.5k | Sleep deprived and on a desperate mission for caffeine, Eddie stumbles upon the perfect coffee shop. And maybe more?

words wrapped around my arm (shaped like a fucking worm?!) | 1.3k | Steve had unfortunately spent a lot of time thinking about worms. They were fine, good for the soil or whatever. He really didn’t care about worms, but evidently his soulmate fucking did. Would you still love me if I were a worm? It was fucking scrawled across his bicep, wrapping around his arm and holding on tight. Like who the fuck said that to someone they had only just met?!

comin' up for air, breathin' in | 7.4k | Eddie Munson loved music. He loved playing it, he loved listening to it, and he even loved writing about it. Which explained, of course, how he ended up on the fucking soccer beat of the Indianapolis newspaper. Not music, not theater or the arts, not even a sport he at least cared about like hockey. Nope, fucking soccer. Nothing ever happened in the soccer scene of Indianapolis. Well, nothing interesting used to happen. But that all changed when Nancy Wheeler inherited the Mastodons, named after the Indiana state fossil for some ungodly reason. When she inherited the Mastodons and hired Steve Harrington as the head coach.

i couldn't see (you were always right beside me) | 13.5k | Steve hated his neighbor. And then Dustin and the other kiddos left for college and Steve signed up for some online game called World of Warcraft. Which was how Steve met a Night Elf druid named Greyhawk.

lost in the middle of you | 4.3k | Eddie closed his eyes and leaned against the railing in front of him, sun warm on his face. A breeze was coming across the water, gulls crying overhead. A warmth bloomed across his back as Steve dropped across his shoulders, heavy and warm, the perfect combination. Eddie woke up alone. No Steve Harrington. He rolled over, not quite awake, and reached for the other side of the bed. Cold. Steve would have woken him up so that meant… oh.

the icarus to your certainty (oh, my sunlight) | 2.1k | eddie helps steve put together a dnd character sheet for an upcoming game and faces a crisis when steve breaks out his glasses

in our bedroom after the war | 2.4k | eddie is having nightmares and can’t sleep, steve offers to be his lookout.

hey, babe, your hair's alright (hey, babe, let's stay in tonight) | 3.9k | Eddie discovered one downside to graduating is that he doesn't have access to the school to play dnd in anymore. Steve, on the other hand, discovered that he has a huge weakness in the form of Eddie Munson's puppy dog eyes. Steve finally broke down and offered to let him run sessions out of his house and Eddie stuck around afterwards. Eddie paused midstep, “I mean, I was just going to go home and collapse on my couch? What were you up to for the rest of the day, Harrington?” “Probably just going to collapse on my couch actually.” Steve replied with a smile. “But it’s big enough for the both of us and I was going to maybe put a movie on if you are interested? Maybe order pizza later?”

5+1's (series on ao3)

hot patootie bless my soul | 2.7k | 5 times everyone thought steve was just really supportive +1 time they realize he is just a pining and idiotic bisexual

dnd is gay (but so am i so this tracks) | 4.5k | 5 times that eddie introduces harry stevon to the party as a dnd npc +1 time steve meets him (aka eddie accidentally makes a npc based off of one steve harrington)

i'll stop the world (and melt with you) | 2.5k | 5 times that steve falls asleep on eddie +1 time eddie takes a nap on steve

i'm your man (don't you know that?) | 3.7k | 5 times that steve and eddie go on a date +1 time that eddie realizes that they are dating

almost, nearly, finally | 2.5k | 5 times steve and eddie almost kiss +1 time they finally do

and the reason comes on the common tongue of your loving me | 4k | E | 5 times steve finds it incredibly hot that eddie knows what he's doing +1 time when they figure it out together

#ori writes #ori talks fic #steddie #stranger things

[sharkneto]

Any tips on writing longer chapters but making each scene count and not be pointless filler?

The thing with chapters is they are as long as they need to be.

I never go into them with the thought "oh this will be 5k words". I know my chapter will probably be around 5-7k, but that's just because I know myself now and that's usually how many words it takes for me to get through a scene/moment. But not always! Sometimes it's done in 3k. Sometimes it takes 15k (which I usually then break into a Part 1 and Part 2, but they're initially written together as one long chapter before I split it). Coming in with a word count estimate is also almost always pointless - you are never going to be right on how many words you're going to need so it's a waste of time to try and hold yourself to one (excepting a drabble or if you're writing for an event with a specific word count).

If you're finding yourself just writing things to try and make your chapter longer, take a step back and look at what you've got and why you're trying to add more. If it's just for the sake because you want a higher word count, stop. Word count doesn't matter, more words isn't always better. Short chapters are fine. They're fun and punchy.

If you're adding more words because it feels like something is missing, look at the structure of what you've got going on. A story follows the structure that's a rise to climax and then fall to resolution. Chapters are a bit the same way with space for cliffhangers (end on climax, no resolution until the next chapter(s)). The point of splitting material into chapters is to give scenes breathing room and readers rest stops along the way through a long story. They're also great for pacing readers, building or releasing tension, depending on how you're splitting them. With that, each chapter should have a reason for existing on its own. I like to have one main or two related things happening, supported in the beginning with an "intro" to bridge the previous chapter to get into the action and a "conclusion" to bridge it to the next (assuming you didn't end the previous on a cliffhanger and aren't jumping right into action and aren't ending this one on a cliffhanger). Chapters shouldn't stand alone from the rest of the book, they can and should lean on things set up in previous chapters, but having the same rough structure is how I think about them and helps me figure out where a problem is if I have one.

So, you're writing words to fill something - where to look for the something? Are you missing context and need some exposition to better set something up? Are you missing dialogue to bridge an idea? Are you missing a beat that's a throwaway here but is foreshadowing a future chapter? Are you missing transitions so the main action feels abrupt?

The same thing goes for the other direction, trimming back when you have too much. Do you have too much exposition so it's dragging? Do you have extra dialogue that you like but doesn't serve any purpose? Are you cramming too many details in when a couple would cover the same point you're trying to get across? Are you repeating yourself?

Sometimes you just have to cut bits, even if you love them, because they just don't work for your pacing and are detracting from the main point of the chapter/story (remind me to post the deleted scene from the last JT chapter - I adored it but it fucked the pacing as I was streamlining the chapter). Keep the deleted bit in a folder somewhere - you'll always have it to go back and enjoy and more often than not it will be reslot itself back in with new context later in the story or in a different fic.

A lot of these are also just general pacing/writing advice, for overall stories and not just chapters, but see my earlier point about thinking of chapters a little bit like stories themselves (but not stand-alone!)

TLDR: Chapters are as long as they need to be. If you've told the scene you want to tell in that one and have set up the next chapter, don't worry about it if it feels short. If you haven't, figure out exactly what bit you're missing and fill it in, rather than padding for the sake of padding.

#i feel like i started rambling in here #and i'm going to be honest my genuine top advice is ''chapters are as long as they need to be'' #if it is getting long and feels like it's /too/ long give it a careful read for if you've got padding that can be cut #sometimes you will sometimes you won't #if you need everything but it's getting obnoxiously long just slice that bad boy up #there. problem solved. two normal sized chapters #idk how helpful any of this is i feel like it got away from me a bit but! here you are #writing #sharkneto speaks #long post

[succubusphan]

A Rose of Winter - Chapter 18

Summary: All Daniel wanted to do was escape the stifling life as a Stark of Winterfell and travel the world. Between the looming threat North of The Wall and the den of lions in the capital, he unexpectedly finds love in the midst of a war set to tear Westeros apart. Caught between loyalty to his family and duty, he is torn in a thousand directions that all point to one man: Philip Flowers.

Rating: E (There are only a few smut scenes but it's an M for battles, war, and other adult topics)

Tags/warnings: I removed most triggers (no R or SA, no minors involved in sex, no gore). It does include: Deaths either written without details or in a poetic way if it's an important character (Dan and Phil, Ghost and Balerion will live but everyone else is fair game). Strangers to lovers, Slow Burn, missing each other. The prophecies and stories foreshadowed are fulfilled, a satisfying ending to the entire story without plot holes. Extreme canon divergence. Dan and Phil are not replacing characters, they were written in. GAME OF THRONES AU

Author's Note: This is my OSPBB 2022, Couldn't have done it without my betas @effingmeteors and @filisaceaf.

Word Count: Each chapter will be around 15k and have at least one Dan or Phil pov. The total wc is about 210k.

Read on Ao3 | Moodboards by Echo

PHIL

As soon as they crossed the gate, Sansa and Bran were already waiting for them. Sansa wrapped him in a surprisingly warm hug and he had to divert his attention for a moment to keep his emotions at bay. 

Bran simply gave Phil a small smile and a head nod. “I am glad that you found your story. We will need you when The Long Night comes.”

“Have you seen anything about it?” Phil asked, a chill coursing through his body.

“Yes, fragments of the future, but it’s the present that worries me the most,” Bran said. “He has the Ice Dragon.”

“What?” Daenerys asked, walking over to them with a frown. “What Ice Dragon?”

“The one trapped inside The Wall. The Night King found the Horn of the First Men and summoned it, causing The Wall to shatter and destroying Eastwatch By The Sea.”

Daenerys bit her lip. “Can the Night King be killed by dragonfire?” 

“I don’t know. Nobody has ever tried,” Bran admitted.

Phil shared a look with Daenerys and turned back to Bran. “Will you tell me everything you know about it - the Ice Dragon?”

Bran nodded. “Of course.”

--

Dan and Phil returned to their chambers and sat close to the fire, breathing a sigh of relief as they felt their hands starting to warm up. 

“What do we do now?” Phil asked. “We just arrived at Winterfell and I feel restless. If we have to wait for long I will go mad.”

“I understand, but I wish The Long Night would never reach us. I want to spend my life with you, living quietly here or somewhere else, but I want peace.”

“I want peace too, that is why I want to know how our story ends,” Phil said, getting up from his chair and sitting on Dan’s lap. “Do we live long and happy lives or die a tragic death?”

“Don’t say that,” Dan mumbled, pulling him even closer, and pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Don’t ever say that. It is enough to have to fight away from you. I want to know that you are safe.”

“You could ride Viserion with me,” Phil offered. 

“I am not sure he likes me after what he did.”

“Oh, Dan. He was just playing; I’m sure he likes you.”

Dan hummed. “Would you bet my life on it?”

“No, of course not.”

The door clicked and Arya’s head popped in with a smile. “Um, would you be interested in having a cup of ale?”

Cocking his head, Dan nodded. “Absolutely, come in.”

Arya’s smile widened. “I am not alone,” she said, pushing the door completely open. Behind her stood Sansa, pushing Bran’s chair and, surprisingly, Shireen.

“Oh, hello,” Phil said. “How have you been?”

Arya took the chair Phil had vacated and handed them the ale, Sansa left Bran beside them and sat on their bed along with Shireen.

“I miss tending to the farm with Uncle Renly but Winterfell is fun,” Shireen said. “Here I can explore as much as I want and there’s always someone to talk to, but I still missed you.”

“She has been training too,” said Sansa, sounding quite proud.

“Really?” Dan asked.

Shireen nodded. “I have. Lady Lyanna was kind enough to teach me the basics of swordsmanship.”

“Oh, the Little Bear?” Dan said. “She is a very tough Lady. I don’t think you could take advice from anyone better.”

“Never call her that to her face,” Shireen said, giggling. “I’ve written Grandmother about her and she said the same.”

Dan shrugged. “It’s just the way my mother called me growing up. And she is a Mormont; it suits her.”

Phil frowned, trying to remember any surviving Baratheons that could bear that title. “Grandmother?”

“Oh, sorry.” Shireen slapped a hand over her lips briefly. “I meant your Grandmother, Lady Olenna. She said I could call her that, but I did ask.”

“Did she? Well, she must really like you then,” Phil said. It never occurred to him that his grandmother would take to Shireen, but she was the closest Loras and Renly would have to a daughter and they loved her as much. “Will you leave for Highgarden?”  

“Of course not. I will fight and Grandmother will come to Winterfell as well.”

“Why would she do that?” Dan asked, his eyes wide. 

“She said the last time she left her grandchildren to solve their problems one of you died and she didn’t want to survive us all.”

“I have to lead the people through the tunnels,” Sansa said. “We still haven’t found them.”

“I know where they are,” Bran said.

“How?” Sansa pressed.

“I looked at the memories of Brandon The Builder.”

“You could have told me, I’ve been going mad about it.”

“You didn’t ask me,” Bran shrugged.

Arya rolled her eyes and snorted. “Drink your ale and stop fighting, I’m getting a headache.”

“A toast to living or dying together,” Dan said, raising his cup.

Phil poked Dan’s side. “That’s a horrible thing to toast to!”

“And I said I need to lead the people away from Winterfell, I won’t be here by the time the dead come,” Sansa huffed.

“Don’t be sad, you could still die,” Dan said with a smirk. 

“Oh! I could wear her face and order people around!” Arya said.

Phil snorted. He had never seen this side of Dan, or any of them. Brothers and sisters, still bickering like children, as if they had never been apart or seen so many tragedies.

“We should toast to Philip Targaryen instead, our newest dragon rider and protector,” said Shireen raising her cup.

“To Philip Targaryen, the protector,” said Dan; Sansa, Arya and Bran joined after.

Resting his head on Dan’s shoulder, Phil sighed and slowly sipped from his ale.

“Don’t be sad, Phil. The love for her child was what kept Jenny of Oldstone alive after Duncan Targaryen’s death, and that child died protecting your mother.”

“Yes, and she died of sorrow because of it,” Phil said.

“She lived long enough to return to Highgarden and see that you would be loved and protected.”

“What was her name?” asked Shireen. “I - I’m sorry I wasn’t told about her.”

“Her name was Lysa Targaryen, the youngest daughter of Lady Olenna - her favourite.”

“You are her favourite too,” Shireen said. “If that helps.”

Phil smiled and finished his ale. It did help. “Thank you, little cousin.”

The smile Shireen gifted him could have lightened up the skies. He knew then that she just wanted to be loved, just like him. Phil pressed a quick kiss to Dan’s lips and closed his eyes, letting the warmth of the fire comfort him.

SANSA

Sansa woke up the following morning and went about her day as usual. Checking over everything, making sure the needs for supplies were met all over Winterfell, speaking to the workers, especially the metal workers, was becoming her daily routine. The arrival of Gendry, Arya’s friend, had really helped with the weapon production, especially with having to learn how to shape dragonglass into something that could be used in battle. 

She leaned against the wall just outside the smithy and listened to the workers, catching information about their needs and wants; it was good to be able to help them more efficiently. She accidentally caught the end of the conversation between her sister and her friend when Arya requested to have a special weapon be made for her. Sansa peered inside and saw her throw several dragonglass daggers at him to show her dexterity and prove her point. 

It was amusing to see Gendry’s infatuated smile. They were an odd pair. Well, not a pair at all since Arya made it clear that she was not interested in a relationship of any sort. Still, Sansa could tell she had some sort of love for him, although perhaps not the romantic kind. It was hard to tell with Arya.

Once her sister was gone, Sansa walked in and had a brief conversation with him about what could be expected to be ready on time and continued on her way.

It took about three hours in total and by the end of it, she was ready to sit down, but she didn’t. Instead she got a cup of hot soup and stood on the bridge between the Great Keep and the Armoury, where her father used to stand and watched over the Courtyard and the castle workers keeping to their tasks.

“My Lady,” a familiar voice said, making her smile. “It is good to see you doing so well.”

“But if it isn’t my dear husband,” Sansa said. “I am glad that you lived to escape your horrible family.”

Tyrion hummed and stood at her side. “We are still technically married. Does that make Winterfell partially mine?” he mused, bringing his own cup to his lips.

“Not unless all my brothers die and if that were the case, Casterly Rock would be part mine as well.”

“I’m not sure that’s how it works,” Tyrion laughed.

“Why not? My brother is courting your Queen, I have no doubt that she will make it possible for me.”

“Ah, you have come a long way, My Lady,” he said. “You remind me of my dear sister just a tiny bit.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment, although I hope I don’t sound as deranged.”

“Have you blown up your own town?”

“No, not yet.”

“Then I would say you are safe for now.”

Sansa laughed and looked at him curiously. “Did you hear any words from Shae? I know you sent her somewhere and I’ve always wondered if she was happy.” The way Tyrion’s face dropped let her know that she shouldn’t have asked, but she couldn’t keep wondering what was of her friend.

“She died, I’m afraid. My father killed her after he paid her to testify against me in my trial for Joffrey’s murder.”

She shivered and looked into her cup, no longer interested in finishing her breakfast. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”

“How could you have known? She was a whore who came into service as a Lady in Waiting for you. Nobody loved her or cared for her other than us,” he said, downing his wine. “If it’s any consolation, she did betray me, thinking that I was sending her away because I didn’t love her but she refused to testify against you. She protected you until the end.”

A tear rolled down Sansa’s cheek but she rushed to wipe it. “I wish I could have done the same for her. She taught me a lot about being a strong woman.”

“I wish I could have helped her too. I killed my father for it,” Tyrion said. “That bastard.”

Sansa shook her head. “We should honour her memory. What can we do to celebrate her?”

“We could have a nice meal with her favourite wine and cakes.”

“Alright. You get the wine, I’ll handle the rest. Let’s tell our favourite Shae stories tonight.”

DAN

Dan removed his sweaty clothes after yet another training session and dropped them on the ground, already regretting his choices when he realised he didn’t have clean ones on hand to change into. He groaned and went through his old trunk, having to simply tip it over to be able to see what he had clearly. It had been ages since he had gone through his things.

There was a leather pouch stuck to the bottom but he managed to eventually pry it away. He frowned, trying to remember what it could possibly be until he had it in his hands and felt the shape of a direwolf. It was the pendant his father had given him so many years ago. He felt shame in realising he had entirely forgotten to pass it on to Jon. 

Their father had mentioned it belonged to Jon’s mother but hadn’t mentioned her name at all. Turning it around, he saw an inscription and he had to sit on his bed to consider what it could mean. Running his thumb over the empty eyes on the figure, he remembered something and went down to the Crypts.

JON

Jon walked into Bran’s chambers and found Sam and Dan already waiting for him. Frowning, he took a seat on the only stool available, right next to Dan. “Arya said you needed to see me,” he said.

Bran nodded. “There’s something I have to tell you.”

“What is it?” Jon ran his fingers through his curls.

“You are not a Snow,” Bran said.

“I don’t understand.”

Dan placed his hand on Jon’s thigh and squeezed lightly. “The last time I spoke to Father, he gave me this,” he said, giving him a long chain with a wolf pendant, its eyes missing . “He said it belonged to your mother but didn’t explain further and I - I didn’t think to ask. He was about to be sentenced and -”

“I understand. You were worried about him,” Jon said. “What do you think it means?”

“It means that your mother was a Stark. She was Lyanna Stark,” Dan said and before Jon could even understand what he was implying, his brother placed two small purple crystals in his hand. “I found these in the Crypts; they were in her statue placed over her heart. This pendant represents your true identity: you are the son of Lyanna Stark and Rhaegar Targaryen.”

“No! That is a lie!” Jon said, standing up so fast his stool fell to the ground with a loud sound. 

Sam looked at him with what could only be described as pity. “I found a record in the Citadel stating that Rhaegar had his previous marriage annulled and wedded Lyanna in a secret ceremony. Bran confirmed it already, Jon. You are not Jon Snow, your real name is Aegon Targaryen, VI of his name. You are the true heir to The Iron Throne.”

“No, no.”Jon covered his face with his hands and couldn’t hear what Dan, Bran or Sam were saying. All he could think about was the previous night, how happy he had felt with Daenerys in his arms.

“Jon, I am with child, the Maester has confirmed it,” she said with a wide smile and her eyes shining.

“Is it true?” He asked, his eyes already brimming with tears.

She nodded. “It’s a gift. I didn’t think it was possible, but it’s true! This is a sign that good things are coming, I know it is.”

“I only regret that my child will be a Snow,” Jon said.

“I don’t care about that. I only care about you. Will you stay with me and raise our child together?”

“I wouldn’t want to be away from you, ever again. Danny, I love you and I will do everything I can to be worthy of you and this child.”

She pressed a kiss to his lips and pulled him into a hug. “You already are. You are a good man, caring, loving, a good fighter and someone who inspires loyalty. You are everything I could ever wish for in a man. You are my King.”

“I would settle for being your husband,” Jon said, his breath catching in his throat as Daenerys paused.

She laid her head on his shoulder and giggled. It was the first time Jon had heard that sound, but he hoped to find new ways to hear it over and over again. “Of course, and I will be your wife.”

--

Jon rushed to Danny’s chambers and knocked on her door. Grey Worm saw how distraught he was and looked at him with worry but didn’t mention it.

She pulled the door open and gave him a beautiful smile that quickly faded. “What’s wrong?” She asked. 

Jon wanted to fall to his knees and beg for her forgiveness, to cry, to scream, but he didn’t want anyone to know. They weren’t even together in public. He stepped inside and closed the door softly before wrapping his arms around her, holding her close, pressing his nose into her white blonde hair. “I’m sorry,” he choked out.

She hugged him tightly, rubbing his back. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“I spoke with my family and learned who my mother really was. I can’t believe it,” he said. “I thought I was getting the life I always wanted with you, but-”

“But what? Have you changed your mind?” She said, stepping away from him.

“No! I - I don’t know,” Jon said, breaking down into sobs. “Danny, my mother was Lyanna Stark, and my father… was your brother, Rhaegar.” 

“No, how can that be?” Danny said, placing her hand on her slowly growing stomach.

“He got his marriage to Elia Martell annulled and wedded Lyanna in a secret ceremony. Before she died, she asked Ned Stark to raise me as his own and protect me from Robert Baratheon’s wrath.”

“Who told you this?”

“Bran saw it and Sam found the records in the Citadel. And-”

“It was your brother and your best friend who hates me because I executed his father and brother. I don’t think that’s a coincidence. How would they even know?”

Jon pulled the pendant from his pocket. “My f- Ned Stark gave this to Dan before he died. He said it belonged to my mother. Dan also found the purple eyes of the wolf on her statue in the Crypts of Winterfell. Every piece of the story fits. It is true; I know it is.”

She hesitantly took the pendant and turned it around, a tear rolling down her cheek as she rubbed her thumb on it. “R + L” Danny said. “This means you have a claim to The Iron Throne.”

Jon shook his head. “I don’t want it. I want nothing to do with it. It is you I worry about, our child…”

“Our family history is on our side, we could still marry and say it’s just to keep the line pure. You said you’d be my husband, Jon. Then be my husband. Don’t leave us.”

“I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone but I don’t know if I can do this. It goes against everything I have grown to believe.”

“Forget about that. What does your heart say?” Danny asked. “My heart is yours.”

He stepped back, almost fearing his own weakness. “Danny…”

“You don’t have to answer now, we can wait until The Long Night has passed. We may die in it still and our tears will be meaningless.”

“We will not die,” Jon said firmly. “We will live and find a solution.”

She extended her arms towards him and Jon didn’t have it in him to deny her.

--

In the morning, Jon woke up in his room with Daenerys standing over him, running her fingers through his hair with a sad expression. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I need to ask something of you.”

“Of course. What can I do for you?” He asked, wincing at the cold tone his voice carried.

Danny pulled her hand back and cleared her throat. “My brother Rhaegar, he had a theory. He thought that the Prince Who Was promised, this prophecy people like to mention and adapt in every religion, was about him. He thought that he would have three children who would become dragon riders and be the heroes who saved Westeros. The three headed dragon, he called it.”

Sitting up, Jon considered it for a moment. He had heard about this before. “When I was a man of the Night’s Watch, I met Maester Aemon, he would be your… your great grandfather’s brother. One time, as he was coming to the end of his life, I heard him speak about you, lamenting that he was too old and frail to guide you. He also said the dragon must have three heads and that your dragons proved that you are The Princess Who Was Promised.”

“Was he kind?”

“He was the kindest man I had ever known. He counselled me and protected me from my own stupidity and my doubts. His vote made me Lord Commander. Maester Aemon believed in me even when I didn’t.”

Danny sat at the edge of the bed but didn’t try to come closer. “I am thankful that you got to meet him, I wish I had too.”

“It was his time. One hundred and two years were enough. He dedicated his life to serving others.”

“Aemon is a good name,” Daenerys said, with a small smile. “It would be a good tribute to him.”

“And if it’s a girl?”

“Lyanna.” Danny said. Then, the moment had passed. She cleared her throat again and stood from the bed. “What I wanted to say is: Rhaegar didn't have three children, but I have three dragons, and we now have three Targaryens. I believe we are the three headed dragon and I think Maester Aemon would agree. Ride Rhaegal, become a dragon rider and make your father proud.”

Jon inclined his head. “If Rhaegal lets me, it would be my honour. Thank you.”

DAN

The following morning Phil woke up early, dragging a very naked Dan from bed with promises of food and more kisses later in the day. It was a bit pathetic how easily that worked despite the absolute hate Dan felt for mornings, especially the winter mornings.

They got dressed as fast as possible and went down to the Great Hall for breakfast. The warm soup made Dan’s heart sign but did little to help Phil who had been accustomed to southern weather. Taking pity on him, Dan wrapped his hands around Phil’s smaller ones to keep him warm.

“Thank you, love,” Phil whispered.

Smiling widely, Dan pressed a soft kiss to Phil’s lips, groaning when he got hit with a piece of bread in the back of the head.

He turned already knowing who would be there. 

Arya laughed and raised her mug at him.

Dan merely raised his eyebrows and looked at Gendry, who had done nothing but follow her around from the moment they left King’s Landing. It was a long trip, nearly two months to bring everyone back to Winterfell, yet Gendry had been glued at her side. He wasn’t sure if she returned his feelings but that wouldn’t stop Dan from teasing her about it. Two could play the same game.

They all turned to the entrance when they heard the main gate open. Dan rose from his seat, Phil following him to the Courtyard without question.

Tormund dismounted his horse, a probably stolen horse, and greeted Sansa who was already approaching him and the men from The Watch. Dan recognised Edd and a few of the others, even if he could remember their names, but they also brought a strange man with a patch on his right eye.

“Where is the pretty crow?” Tormund asked as he petted a very excited Ghost.

As soon as Jon stepped out to the Courtyard, Tormund kissed him on the lips as he wrapped his arms around Jon with so much impulse he tumbled to the ground.

Dan pouted at the sight of his laughing brother. 

“If you want a kiss from him so badly you should ask,” Phil whispered into his ear.

“Shut up,” Dan mumbled, although he could feel the heat rising to his cheeks at the thought. Still, they walked over to greet the newcomers. As soon as Dan made eye contact with Edd’s pale face, he knew whatever news they were carrying, was not good.

“They’re coming,” Tormund said. “Eastwatch is gone, they have a dragon now and everyone north of Winterfell who is not here is now one of them.”

“How long?” Jon asked.

“They will be here by sundown tomorrow.”

Knowing exactly what he needed to do, Dan turned on his heels and left.

--

Dan looked at his hand, deciding if his own ring or the one his father had given him would be suitable but he couldn’t bear the thought of parting with either of them. 

He went to his parents’ chambers and felt the stones around the fireplace; after a few minutes he managed to find the one that was loose. Bracing himself, he pulled it and let out a sigh of relief when he saw a small velvet pouch still hiding behind it.

Inside there was a broach that had belonged to his mother, passed down through generations of Tully women; a gold bracelet and a ring his father had gifted her for their twentieth wedding anniversary. He tried the ring carefully, it only fit him in his pinky but Phil’s fingers were slender, unlike his.

Speaking of which -

“Dan, what are you doing?” Phil asked.

Dan put the rest of the items in the pouch and placed them back along with the stone. “Follow me, please,” he said, making his way out to the Courtyard. He cursed inwardly when he saw it was starting to snow and turned toward the glass gardens.

Lacing their fingers together, Dan guided Phil through the Winter Roses already forming ice crystals on their blue petals.

“I’ve never seen anything like this,” Phil said, his eyes wide as he looked around.

Carefully picking one of the roses, Dan kneeled before Phil and presented his mother’s ring to him. “I don’t want to risk not having the opportunity to do this with you. Be my husband, please. Today.”

“Today?”

“Yes, today!”

“Yes!” Phil said. He shoved his fingers in front of Dan’s face for him to slip the ring on him.

Dan placed the ring on his finger and stood, pulling him into a deep kiss. He hoped Phil would realise the meaning behind all the elements since it was quite a particular ring and it included the preferred metals of House Stark. 

Phil laughed and brought his hand up for a closer look, the ring was Iron, a bit on the thicker side and it had a deep blue stone surrounded by five silver dots on each side and a copper top and bottom. “Dan…” he said, his eyes sad as he realised. “Was this your mother’s?”

He nodded. “It was a gift from Father.”

“Are you sure you want me to have it?”

“Yes, of course I’m sure.”

“Thank you, love,” Phil said and pressed a quick kiss to his lips. “Who would be officiating?”

“There are no septons here at the moment but the person closest to any sort of religion or God is Bran,” Dan said. “Don’t tell him I said that. I’ve always been a sceptic.”

“Well, your brother can see everything, I think a change of heart is wise. Do you think he would want to?”

“There is only one way to find out.”

--

It was nothing too elaborate. Dan had planned for it to happen under the weirwood but he noticed that for the first time in years, the tree with the pink flowers had blossomed. Growing up, he had convinced himself he simply misremembered things and there never was such a tree in the Godswood, but his mother had assured him that there was; it was just a winter flower, just like the winter roses. He had to take a moment to breathe to avoid crying, it was almost like his mother was there with him on his wedding day.

Sansa and Shireen hung winter roses from the tree and gathered the families. Bran had happily accepted to perform the ceremony and was already waiting there for them. Dan looked around and smiled, watching as Jon, Daenerys, Loras, Renly and Arya joined them. Ghost, Balerion and Greywind miraculously sat patiently at their side, except for the casual chewing of falling flower petals.

Bran smiled at them and began the ceremony. “On this day, our families stand together to witness and celebrate the union of Daniel Stark and Philip Targaryen. May their love last a lifetime, may their lives be tied together for the ages, and may we all be here to see them live the love they so patiently waited to share.”

Dan looked into Phil’s beautiful purple eyes and swallowed thick as emotions rose within him. “I love you,” he mouthed.

“I love you too,” Phil mouthed back with a smile and a hint of a shiver.

“Let’s say the words chosen by the grooms,” Bran said. 

They joined hands and Sansa lightly wrapped a velvet ribbon around them to symbolise their bond.

Dan and Phil smiled and said: “Love, Strength, Loyalty, Patience, Trust, Family, Peace. With these words we bind our souls together, with these words we become one.” 

Bran nodded. “Let it be known that Daniel of House Stark and Philip of House Targaryen are one heart, one flesh, one soul. Cursed be he who would seek to tear them asunder.”

The ceremony was sealed with a kiss as the direwolves howled and jumped around them.

It was a brief, yet happy moment for them; the calm before the storm. Dan felt ready for the rest of his life to start, all he had to do was live through The Long Night.

JAIME

Jaime sat for supper at Brienne’s side laughing at a ludicrous story Podrick was telling when something, or someone, to be precise caught his eye. Olenna Tyrell had come to Winterfell earlier that day along with her own guards and some cloaked figures that hadn’t left her side since. At first, Jaime thought nothing of it; she was incredibly stubborn and demanded to be with her family until the last possible moment, but there was something about her companions.

They seemed to be a young man and a girl. Both tended to speak quietly among themselves and occasionally to Olenna but they didn’t greet the Starks or any of the other families present. When the man stood, tall and lean, Jaime got a glimpse of his sword. It was long, not too heavy and had metal roses added on the rain guard. Was that just another Tyrell?

“Ser Jaime?” Brienne said, placing her hand over his. “Is something amiss?”

Jaime turned to look at her and smiled, bringing her hand to his lips and dropping a kiss on their linked fingers. “No, I was just curious about the newcomers.”

She raised an eyebrow at him, her eyes shifting to the Tyrell table. “I’ve noticed them. They are hiding something. Do you think we should be weary of them?”

“I don’t know yet, I -” 

The cloaked man said something in Olenna’s ear and turned, briefly making eye contact with Jaime before disappearing into one of the corridors. The lower part of his face was covered, but those eyes; those green eyes. He had spent seventeen years looking into them. Jaime rose to his feet, Brienne getting up to follow him. 

“Stay here, please,” he said.

She looked unsure but nodded. 

Jaime rushed after the man, walking down the dark corridors leading to the depths of the Great Keep. For a brief moment he thought he’d lost his target, but hurried his pace and caught up to him. The man looked over his shoulder and tried to run but Jaime pressed him against the wall. “Look at me,” he growled at the man, who had his eyes tightly shut. “Look at me,” he repeated, his voice cracking.

The man’s eyes opened and Jaime saw all the pain and the contained rage in them. He pulled the face covering down and took a look at a face he never thought he’d see again. “Tommen,” he said, trying to pull him into a hug, but was met with firm hands on his chest.

“Don’t. I don’t want anything to do with you - Father,” Tommen spat.

“You knew?” Jaime asked, still trying to come to terms with the fact that he had his son back and that he could finally call him as such.

“I’ve always suspected, I’m not stupid,” Tommen said. “But you weren’t my father, were you. Robert didn’t care for me, nor did my mother or you. I never mattered to any of you and you made that very clear.”

“No - no. You have always mattered to me, you were always our baby boy. I love you, I was just scared that you would know and hate me,” said Jaime. “Please, believe me.”

“Why should I? Every single one of you wanted me on the Throne to manipulate me and nothing more. That’s why I left. I had nothing to return to. A deranged and murderous mother and a cold uncle who was actually my father but never tried to fulfill the role at all. If anything, Tyrion was the closest I ever had to a father.”

Jaime saw his vision blur with tears but nodded. He needed to respect Tommen’s feelings; he was right after all. He’d been too afraid to take on the role of father and left him vulnerable to Cersei and their father’s manipulations. “I understand,” he said, taking a step back. “I’m sorry.”

Tommen blinked and looked at him in shock.

“I never intended to hurt you. I thought I was protecting you. When I heard about your death, I knew I had to leave Cersei, even if it was too late for you,” Jaime ran his hand through his hair. “I hope that someday you can find it in your heart to forgive me for my mistakes.”

“I can’t promise you that,” Tommen said. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready to forgive you.”

“I will be waiting for you for the rest of my days, son. I love you,” Jaime said, his voice cracking in the end. Whatever happened from now on, he had said it and he could only hope that Tommen believed him.

PHIL

Phil had asked Dan for a private supper to celebrate their wedding, but what arrived instead of their meal was his grandmother. She entered without knocking and slapped the back of his head.

“Let me see those eyes,” she said. “They suit you rather well.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Phil asked.

“Because it was too dangerous. I was assured you would know when the time was right.”

“I can’t believe you kept the secret for so long! And you knew who Danny was!” He huffed.

“Well, if we are doing this: You could have invited me to your wedding,” she said.

“We wanted it to be private,” he said. “And we didn’t know you would be arriving today, we would have waited otherwise.”

His grandmother tsked at him. “Always making rushed decisions, Phil. You will be the death of me and that’s saying something.”

“I’m sorry, I-”

“I, I, I, me, me, me. No,” she said. “You will be quiet. Once all of this is over you will have another celebration so that I can attend and we will have a proper feast. Is that clear?” She looked at them both.

“Yes, Grandmother,” said Phil, Dan merely nodding along.

“Good. Now, we are preparing to leave through the tunnels, so I will give you a moment. Be quick about it and make sure you don’t make a widow of your husband in this tedious battle. And don’t tell anyone yet.”

“What?” Phil asked. That made no sense at all.

His grandmother stood from her chair and left without another word, the door remaining open to reveal a cloaked figure. The person stepped through the door and dropped their hood, revealing long brown curls and the sweetest eyes Phil had ever seen. He rushed to hug her, trying his best not to choke on his tears. “Margaery!” He pulled away only for a second to look at her again before wrapping his arms around her one more time. “I thought I had lost you.”

“You didn’t,” she said. “Tommen said it was too dangerous to go back; that we would be killed in some way or another and I knew he was right. So we sailed as far south as we could and continued on land to Dorne.”

“He survived too?” Dan frowned.

“Yes, we gave our clothes and most of our things to commoners, advising them to run.”

Phil nodded. That at least made sense. “Why Dorne? Why not Highgarden?”

Margaery rolled her eyes. “Tommen was paranoid that we would be recognised and taken back. He said the Dornish hated his mother the most and would love the chance to have something of her. He was correct but we were also fortunate enough to find Lord Varys there and Grandmother. The alliance with Daenerys Targaryen was in process and we decided to join.”

Phil was at a loss for words. “She never mentioned it. I was in Dragonstone for months and she didn’t mention it at all.”

“It was part of the deal. We all have our secrets, don’t we?” Margaery said, before turning to Dan. “Daniel, in King’s Landing Phil wouldn’t stop talking about you no matter how much I begged him to,” she smiled and walked over to him, placing a kiss on each of his cheeks. “Aww. Your beauty marks form a sad face when you smile. That fits quite well with what Phil told me about you.”

“I - It’s a pleasure to see you again, Lady Margaery,” Dan said.

“No need for formalities, Dan. We are cousins now. I expect to see you as often as possible once the White Walkers are defeated.”

“If they are defeated,” said Phil.

“Nonsense,” Margaery laughed. “I trust that you, men, will be able to do what is needed. Now, I must go. There’s someone I would like to see.”

SANSA

Sansa felt restless, pacing up and down her chambers as she sipped a glass of wine. In a matter of hours she was expected to leave every single member of her family behind and guide those who were too young, ill or old to fight through the tunnels running under Winterfell. She wanted to say no but Dan had begged her to do it. Even Arya was staying behind. 

Even if they won, there was a chance that Sansa would be alone in the world. Not a soul to love her or mourn her when she died. That fate sounded worse than death itself; she would not stand for it. Perhaps she could lead everyone out and return, try to join the fight. There was really no way of knowing how long the trip would take since the tunnels did not go in a straight line, but the thought of coming home to see things through comforted her at least.

A knock on the door startled her. “I do not wish to see anyone,” Sansa said, hoping the person would leave, but there was another knock, more persistent this time. She groaned and walked over to the door, pulling it open, her complaints dying in her lips.

Margaery.

Sansa took a step back and blinked. “Margaery?”

“Yes, Sansa!” She said, stepping inside and shutting the door. “A hug?” She asked tentatively. 

Sansa had never seen her act so shy before; she seemed to be almost blushing. “Of course,” Sansa said, whipping a stray tear that rolled down her cheek. “I thought you were dead.”

“I know. I’m sorry, it was for my safety,” Margaery said, pulling away and looking into her eyes with that beautiful smile. “Tommen and I travelled to Dorne and joined the alliance with Daenerys. It’s a long and boring story, but tell me about yourself. You’ve grown so much.” She ran her hand down one of Sansa’s long waves.

“Well, mine is a long story too,” Sansa said. “How is Tommen? Did you have any children?”

“Children? Oh, no, Sansa dear,” she said, guiding her to sit on the bed. “Tommen and I are no longer together as husband and wife but we remain friends. He hates his family so he has taken a lot to mine. He has mentioned wanting our wedding annulled.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed.”

“It’s alright,” Margaery assured her. “You look sad. Would you like to talk about it or should I leave you?”

“No!” Sansa said. “Please. I thought I had no friends left, but knowing that you are still here - it means something to me.” She let out a deep sigh. “The truth is that I don’t want to leave my family behind and take the people into the tunnels. I think that if I do, I will never see them again.”

“It is your duty as the Acting Lady of Winterfell to lead your people to safety. I know that it hurts, I am leaving Phil and Loras behind as well, but there’s not much we can do. We never learned how to fight; we can’t protect them.” Margaery placed her hand on Sansa’s. “If we stay, there’s no other fate for us than death.”

“You should go, lead everyone. I want to stay with my family. If I die, I want to do it at their side. I don’t want to lose those last moments and live to be alone.”

“You are not alone; you have me and I am not leaving without you.”

“Margaery…”

“Please,” Margaery whispered, looking into Sansa’s eyes before leaning in and kissing her hesitantly.

Sansa felt her entire body tingle, her cheeks flush and her heart beat madly in her chest. She placed her hand behind Margaery’s head, marvelling at how soft her hair was and pressed their lips together more firmly. It was like nothing she had ever felt before, but then it was over. Sansa chased Margaery’s lips, hearing her laugh.

“Come with me. I’ve missed you enough already,” Margaery pleaded, pressing her forehead to Sansa’s.

Biting her lip, Sansa looked into Margaery’s eyes. “I’m just scared.”

“I’ll let you hold my hand the entire way.”

Sansa let out a little laugh, surprised at how good that sounded. “Do you think they will live?” 

“They have to; they know we won’t forgive them if they don’t.”

“Stay with me tonight,” she asked.

“And then?”

“And then I will go with you. We will lead everyone through the tunnels - together.”

Margaery smiled widely before kissing her again.

That night they loved each other fully, enjoying every moment of it until they were exhausted. Sansa smiled widely as her eyes shut, thinking about that conversation in King’s Landing years ago, when Margaery told her about the complexity of pleasuring a woman’s body and how funny her innocent reply had been. She sighed and fell asleep, their legs tangled together under a thick layer of furs. 

PHIL

The following day Phil woke up in Dan’s arms and looked up at his sleeping face. He felt a pull at the bottom of his stomach, wondering if they would ever get to wake up together again. He shook his head, pushing the uncertainty away and kissed Dan awake.

Dan groaned, his face twisting into a frown. “Noooo.”

Phil snorted and kissed him again. “We have to see the girls off.”

That made Dan’s eyes snap open. “Thank you, love.”

They got dressed as fast as they could and rushed to the Crypts. Phil saw Dan’s expression change. It was finally dawning on him. 

He looked around and saw only sorrowful faces. Sam hugging a pregnant Gilly and their little Sam goodbye. Grey Worm kissing a very teary eyed Missandei. Loras crying in Margaery’s arms and Sansa surrounded by the rest of the Starks already.

“Go hug your sister,” Phil said, nudging him.

Dan nodded, his eyes never leaving Sansa.

Phil went straight into his grandmother’s arms. He couldn’t remember when was the last time they had done that; she wasn’t inclined to physical affection but they all knew how much she loved them. 

“You will find me at Bear Island as soon as the battle is over,” she said.

“I will,” Phil replied. He saw Shireen standing with Lyanna Mormont. “Are you taking Shireen?”

“Of course I am. Lady Lyanna has asked her to ensure everything runs smoothly in her absence. She’s not a dumb oaf; she knows that is just a way to get her there but her friend made her promise.”

“Margaery and Sansa will keep her occupied.” She said. “Go, Margaery is waiting.”

Nodding, Phil rushed to Loras and Margaery and wrapped them both in a tight hug. “Be safe,” he pleaded.

“You too. Keep each other safe for me,” Margaery said.

Loras sobbed so loudly Phil could barely make out the words coming from his mouth. He caught mostly the end of an “I love you” and saw Margaery whisper into his ear. Whatever she said, helped calm her brother enough for him to breathe. “Thank you,” he said.

Then, it was time to say goodbye. Elderly people, pregnant women and little children all followed Sansa and Margaery through the tunnels. It was a long trip ahead, but a few volunteers had made sure to explore them and leave markings and supplies ahead.

When they lost sight of the group leaving, Dan signalled the others to a pile of boulders that had previously blocked the passage and went about sealing it shut. Phil looked at him sadly and Dan didn’t say it. 

It was their last act of protection towards their families. By sealing the tunnel they were potentially condemning themselves, but they would die knowing their families would survive.

--

The rest of the day was odd. They all checked the walls, set weapons in hidden places, readied the horses, checked the trenches and finally sat around with friends by the fire.

Waiting for the army of the dead was nerve wracking. Phil clung to Dan so tightly, Dan decided to pull him onto his lap, like he so often did now.

“The wait is going to drive me mad,” Phil said.

“I know, love,” Dan dropped a kiss on his hair. “But at least we can stay like this until they get here.”

A thought crossed Phil’s mind. Looking into Dan’s eyes, he asked: “I wonder if this is what she felt like, Jenny of Oldstones. This… silence and emptiness. I hope that we don’t get to dance with our ghosts before sunrise.”

“I don’t know, to be honest, but if we do, at least we die protecting whom we love,” Dan said. “I would consider it an honour.”

Phil let out a deep sigh. That brought some sort of comfort, strangely enough. “Would you sing to me? Sing her song, please.”

Dan nodded and tightened his hold around Phil before beginning. “High in the halls of the Kings who are gone, Jenny would dance with her ghosts. The ones she had lost and the ones she had found, and the ones who had loved her the most. The ones who'd been gone for so very long, she couldn't remember their names. They spun her around on the damp old stones, spun away all her sorrow and pain. And she never wanted to leave, never wanted to leave. Never wanted to leave, never wanted to leave. They danced through the day and into the night through the snow that swept through the hall. From winter to summer then winter again 'til the walls did crumble and fall, and she never wanted to leave, never wanted to leave.” His voice trailed off as people began to walk into the small chamber.

“Thank you,” Phil whispered and pressed a kiss to his lips.

Jaime and Tyrion Lannister came first, nodding at them and pulling two chairs closer to the fire before sitting down. 

“My good Lords, would you like a drink?” Tyrion asked.

“No, thank you,” Dan said.

Phil shook his head.

“I wish my father were here to see his two sons about to go to battle defending Winterfell,” Tyrion commented.

“That would be something to see,” Jaime smiled.

“Didn’t Danny tell you to go with Sansa, My Lord?” Dan asked.

“She did but I may have accidentally slept through the evacuation plan. Worry not, I have the perfect hiding spot.”

“Where is that,” Phil asked.

“The kennels. I just need someone to lock me in.”

Brienne walked through the door followed by Prodrick but froze on her tracks.

Jaime stood and pointed to the chair next to him. “My Lady.”

“We didn’t mean to interrupt, we were just looking for somewhere warm,” she said, taking the chair. 

Podrick was already standing next to Tyrion to receive a cup of wine, which made Brienne give him a look.

Ser Davos walked in and smiled at them, shaking his head at the offer of wine and merely standing as close to the fire as possible.

Tormund found them next, winking at Brienne and commenting about this probably being their last night on earth. The offer was clear but it was also rejected. She said she was happy to see him alive and well after his encounter with the White Walkers at Eastwatch but she would be staying by the fire. Jaime smiled and placed a hand on her shoulder.

Apparently that was enough to convey the message to Tormund who shrugged and took a long swig from his horn. It was a simple interaction but it amused Phil enough to pull him from his sombre mood. Poor Tormund was so enamoured with Brienne, but she only had eyes for Jaime. At least he seemed to take it well. 

“They call you King Killer, right?” Tormund asked Jaime.

“Uh, I’m sure somewhere they do,” Jaime replied.

“I am Tormund Giantsbane because I killed a giant when I was ten,” he said and downed the rest of his drink, half of it spilling down his red beard.

Well, perhaps he didn’t take it as well as Phil had thought.

Tyrion sipped loudly from his cup. “Everyone in this room has fought the Starks at some point and now we are all about to fight defending their home.”

“At least we’ll die with honour.”

“I’ve always been on their side,” Phil said. “Haven’t fought a single Stark.”

Dan whispered an ‘I love you' into his ear.

“That is true, and you even married one,” Tyrion admitted. “In any case, I think we will live.”

Most of the people present snorted. Podrick outright giggled.

“How many battles have we survived among us?” Tyrion asked. “Blackwater Bay, the Battle of Winterfell, Castle Black. Ser Brienne of Tarth defeated Ser Loras Tyrell in open combat. Pardon me, Lady Brienne.”

“She’s not a Ser?” Asked Tormund.

“Women can’t be knights,” Brienne said.

“Why not?”

“Tradition, I suppose.”

“Fuck traidition,” he said. “I’m no King, but if  I were, I would knight you ten times over.”

There was a small silence, but then Jaime unsheathed his sword. “You don’t need a King. Any knight can make another knight. I’ll prove it,” he said. “Kneel, Lady Brienne.”

She seemed to consider it a joke. Until she looked around the room and saw no one laughing back.

Brienne looked at Podrick and then back at Jaime, both of them nodded at her. Brienne slowly got up from the chair and walked over to Jaime, kneeling before him.

Jaime placed his sword on her shoulder. “In the name of The Warrior, I charge you to be brave. In the name of The Father, I charge you to be just. In the name of The Mother, I charge you to defend the innocent.” He lowered his sword. “Arise, Brienne of Tarth, a Knight of The Seven Kingdoms.”

Brienne rose, her eyes shining with unshed tears, her lips trembling. She hadn’t wanted to admit it but everyone who had met Brienne knew how much this mattered to her and how much she deserved it. She had always upheld her vows, fought valiantly to defend others, and been an honourable person.

Phil started clapping and the rest joined, Tormund being the loudest. Tyrion even raised his cup. “To Ser Brienne of Tarth!”

She smiled widely and nodded.

DAN

They were called only hours later. Bran had alerted them about the White Walkers being close and it had sparked everyone into motion. The Dothraki were already at the flanks. The Unsullied and the Northmen behind the trenches. Dan could see them all, already on guard: Brienne, Jaime, Sam, Edd, Loras and Renly, Gendry and Tommen along with all the Winterfell bannermen waiting for the uncertain.

Dan crossed a heated argument between Lyanna Mormont and Ser Jorah. He was trying to convince her to take refuge, but she refused. She would lead her people into battle. Still, she wished her cousin well.

Tyrion went in the direction of the kennels with Sam, presumably to be locked in, but he was carrying his own sword and a few dragonglass daggers. Dan didn’t know him well, but he knew enough to understand that he would not wait idly by while everyone else fought.

The horn sounded, once, twice, three times and it was time. He ran up to one of the watchtowers at the Hunter's Gate with Phil close behind. They came to stand next to Ser Davos, and the man with an eye patch.

Arya rushed towards them. “They are still so far away I can barely see them,” she commented.

“Arya, it is good to see you again.”

“Beric Dondarrion. The last time I saw you, you sent me on my way with The Hound to be sold back to my family.”

“Yes. Still, the Lord of Light has a purpose for me. Thoros told me so before he died.”

“I guess this is your last life then,” she said and he nodded.

Dan didn’t understand what they were discussing nor did he know who he or Thoros were, but now was not the time to ask.

Danny and Jon stood silently at their side until it was evident the White Walkers were getting closer. She held onto Jon’s hand and nodded. “Phil,” she said. “We should go.” Without waiting for a reply, she turned and made her way down the stairs, Jon lingering for a moment to give Dan an apologetic smile. “Don’t take too long,” he said and followed after her.

Feeling bile rise to his throat, Dan pressed a bruising kiss to Phil’s lips, feeling a tear roll down his cheek. “Come back to me, love.”

“I will,” said Phil, “I promise.” And at that moment, Dan believed him. He watched his husband leave and looked up to the sky, waiting to see him fly by.

He was momentarily distracted when he saw the Dothraki weapons burst into flames at once. “What - How did they do that?” He asked.

Beric laughed at his side and pointed at two hooded figures on horseback. 

Dan didn’t have to wonder who they were, the rich red colour of their cloaks was clue enough. The Red Priestesses rode to the gate and were granted access.

The three dragons crossed the night sky and Dan smiled, hoping that Phil felt safe with Kinvara in Winterfell. Dan wished they could fight at Phil’s side, but he knew that it was not the best option and they had made the right choice. Perhaps Kinvara's arrival meant something, it had to. He didn’t usually believe in signs or destiny, but he chose to do so then.

He ran down the stairs and met her on her way up. “My Lady,” he said, already out of breath.

“Daniel,” she smiled.

“Do you know what will happen tonight? Is there anything I have to do?”

“It is not entirely clear but I know you will do what’s right when the time comes, Daniel. You are stronger than you know,” she said. “Do you have dragonglass on you?”

Dan touched his belt and unwrapped four small dragonglass daggers.

She nodded. “Did your brother tell you about your Uncle Benjen?”

“Yes,” Dan said.

“Good. Remember it.”

“Dan!” Called Arya. “We need archers!”

“Thank you!” Dan said over his shoulders as he rushed back to his post. 

As the Night King got closer, a snow storm followed, making it difficult to see. The Dothraki charged once the wights had gotten close enough, attempting to surround them in a pincer manoeuvre, but they were just too many. The thousands of lit weapons that rode to battle slowly started to go out as the riders died, darkness enveloping them, an eerie silence falling over Winterfell.  

He closed his eyes and warged into Balerion; he hadn’t seen him since the previous day and it was putting him on edge. Dan looked around and saw him running back to Winterfell, Ghost and Greywind at his side as well as - Nymeria.

Letting out a sigh of relief, Dan returned to his body and took a deep breath. He grabbed a bow and arrows, noting where the oil and fire were.

PHIL

Phil started to panic as soon as the snow storm cut their visibility very short. They were flying in circles in search of the Night King but were also in charge of lighting the trenches and there was no way they would be able to see the signal.

He flew closer to the ground, just enough to see where the wights were exactly in relation to the castle and gasped. They were there, already overpowering their forces, people falling left and right. When he heard Brienne giving the order to fall back, he circled above them and, hoping that it was the right call, he lit the trenches and blasted as many wights as possible.

Phil could feel Viserion’s excitement to be a part of the battle; he was having the time of his life. “Let’s find your brothers,” he said and hoped that Viserion understood.

He found Danny first. “Danny! A ring of fire!” He yelled. 

She nodded but her eyes widened when she nearly crashed into the Ice Dragon. 

For a moment, Phil forgot he was supposed to be doing something. The creature was unlike anything he had ever seen. Its whiteblue colour nearly sparkled in the moonlight. It was a bit smaller than Viserion but was also faster and had a quick response to attacks. According to Bran, the ice spikes covering the skin made it so it couldn’t be wounded easily, it was almost like armour. There was no information about the effect of dragonfire on the Night King or the Ice Dragon so dragonglass and Valyrian steel were the only available options if it failed.

Shaking his head, he flew around the perimeter of the army of the dead and traced a line of fire, hoping to give the retreating forces a chance. He circled back and found Jon. “Where is Danny?” He asked, but Jon shook his head.

A lance flew by Phil’s head, startling him. The White Walkers were starting to attack them as well. When an ice spear almost got him, Phil knew it was time to fly high again. He guided Viserion to stay within the storm. It was a dangerous move, but it would at least keep them out of sight. “Find the Ice Dragon,” Phil said. 

The raging winds almost threw him off Viserion but they eventually found the Night King and its dragon. “Dracarys!” Phil said, but the Ice Dragon evaded most of the attack and it seemed that its wing had not been affected by it at all. When he saw the Night King aiming at Drogon, he decided to take matters into his own hands.

He flew a bit high, getting as close as possible before jumping off Viserion and onto the Ice Dragon. It let out a terrifying screech that made Phil’s eyes widened. He held on as best as he could while the beast tried to throw him off, but the entire surface of the scales was slippery. He had a choice to make: he could try to kill the dragon or the Night King. 

He chose the former and tried to pierce through the scales with the spear attached to his back but it was impossible, it bounced and fell to the ground. Phil let out a curse, sliding closer to the Night King and the ice spikes that separated them. There was a small target area. When the Ice Dragon moved, its spikes moved as well revealing small patches of skin with much smaller scales. Seeing the opportunity, Phil stabbed the Ice Dragon with a piece of dragonglass. 

It screeched and threw him and the Night King off. He was falling and falling and for a moment, he thought it would be his end but he landed on the thick layer of snow the storm had made. He was frozen in shock, the wind knocked out of him, trying to account for any broken bones he may have, but there was really no time.

The Night King was already on his feet and walking towards him, ice spear in hand.

Danny blasted him with dragonfire, giving Phil the opportunity to run to Winterfell, except… The wights turned to him; there was no chance he would be able to fight them off.

Jon came to his aid, blasting fire through the wights and allowing him to run past them. Sadly, it was the fact that the wights had started to pile onto the lit trenches to form a bridge that allowed him to cross past them. They had made it past the castle walls already.

“PHIL!” Dan yelled as he poured oil over the wights climbing the walls and set them on fire. He lowered a rope for him and continued fighting the dead already swarming him.

Phil climbed up the wall to find Jaime and Brienne already handling things. He killed a wight, then another; they were everywhere. 

“Where’s Dan?” He yelled.

“Courtyard!” Yelled Brienne. “Go!”

He was about to decline when he saw Wun Wun, the giant, swatting wights off the walls, stepping at those on the ground as well.

Phil ran down the stairs and reached Dan as he was being overtaken by the dead.

“What are you doing here?” Dan asked, his voice angry.

“Long story. What do you need?”

“I need you to be safe. I’m going into the Godswood to help Bran, I can’t do that if I have to worry about you,” Dan said as he stabbed another wight.

“I can take you!” Phil said, wincing as he was pushed into a wall and hit his head.

“Phil, go to the fucking Library Tower, I saw Arya running up there.”

He looked around in time to duck another attack.

“The one with the stairs outside, please! Just go!” said Dan and ran in the direction of the armoury.

Phil grabbed a torch from the wall, setting the remaining wights on fire and making his way up the Library Tower.

ARYA

When the wights cornered the Northern army along with The Unsullied, Arya’s eyes widened. Things had started off so badly for them. First, the Dothraki were overtaken within minutes, then, the wights broke through their lines and even though Ser Davos and Dan were waving torches, the dragon riders could not see them in the storm.

The archers were on duty, trying to help as much as they could with the low visibility but the call for fall back didn’t take much longer. Their forces retreated, but the damage was done.

Arya saw many of their men fall so easily; she even saw Sam fall to the ground and tried to help from where she stood but it was Edd who finally helped him up and pushed him in the direction of the castle. It was also Edd who died covering his retreat. She hadn’t known him for long, but she knew Edd was a good man, one of the very few close friends Jon had. He had stuck by him even when he’d died and now he had lost his life saving another friend.

Renly and Loras fought back to back, with a sort of elegance that shocked her. To her knowledge, Renly had never been a good fighter. She guessed he had his husband to thank for that. Them, along with Brienne, an injured Jorah, Jaime, Sam and, surprisingly, Tommen made it back in with part of the Unsullied before the bridges between the trenches were pulled and Phil set them ablaze.

She let out a shocked laugh and saw the others coming to man the walls. It was a brief moment of peace; like a breath of fresh air, especially for the ones that had been in open combat, but it didn’t last long. 

The wights threw themselves over the trenches one on top of the other, their cold bodies making the fire dwindle bit by bit until they had opened a few passages to reach Winterfell at last. Arya looked into Dan’s wide eyes.

“Oil!” He yelled.

“Oil!” Ser Davos repeated. 

Every single person at her side was carrying the barrels onto the wall, waiting for the precise moment to pour them. That moment came only a minute later when the dead started climbing up the walls.

It horrified her. They were like spiders, or ants. She wanted to crawl away from them but resisted the urge, finally getting to use her new dragonglass weapon in quite a few of them before it broke in two. Still, she kept using both sides.

Once again, they were overwhelmed by wights. It was hard to catch one's breath, to keep track of how many were surrounding the area. She kept fighting, but for every wight she killed, two or three more appeared. 

Then, Jaime nudged her shoulder and sent her down to the Courtyard. 

“Go!” He said. “You can barely see here.”

She rolled her eyes at him but did as she was told. All the other fighters were much taller and stronger than her and she was a liability there. It was time to find a better place to fight, somewhere she could use her fighting style appropriately and still help.

Her face lit up when she saw light coming from the Library Tower and made a run for it only to be surrounded by wights. Dan came after her, trying to help her, but there were just too many.

Arya heard a growl to her left and smiled as she stared straight into Nymeria’s eyes. “You came,” she said, pressing a kiss on her snout.

Nymeria looked at her indignantly before tearing through the wights and dragging them away from Arya. “Thank you,” she whispered and ran to the tower, climbing the steps and entering the deadly silent library. 

It was strange. The wights had this particular growl, almost like a choking sound with a gargle so finding herself locked inside a place full of silent wights came as a surprise.

She had to be extremely careful with every step she took. Looking around every corner and observing how they moved. One of them knocked a book over causing all the others to look in that direction. They were using sound as a guide.

They walked aimlessly so avoiding them was becoming an increasingly difficult task. She turned around a corner and bumped straight into a wight, which she promptly killed with dragonglass and gently laid on the floor. 

She could hear them dragging their feet all around her. Closing her eyes, she realised there were two sets of footsteps coming in her direction and would trap her. Her eyes snapped open and she slid under a nearby table, hoping they wouldn’t find her there but before long another wight walked over to the table and paused. She had a split second to step on the table and hid behind another bookcase. It was a close call.

In a way, being there was worse than being in open combat. Arya grabbed a book and threw it across the room, causing every wight to run in that direction and leaving the door cleared for her to escape. She exited the room and leaned back against the door, letting out a sigh of relief before there was a commotion. She could now hear them everywhere.

She ran through the hallways, taking sharp turns as wights started to climb through the windows. They were hot on her heels and she could feel desperation taking over her when she ran into Beric Dondarrion and his flaming sword.

“Go,” he said. “I’ll hold them back!”

She nodded and continued on her way, hearing the man scream as he was mercilessly attacked. She ran and ran until a set of strong hands pulled her into a room and shut the door.

It was Gendry. 

“Are you hurt?” He asked.

Arya didn’t have time to react before someone was pounding at the door. She pried it open to let Beric in. He was dying.

“Please,” he mumbled and he slid to the floor. “Arya, please. The gift.”

The gift of death. For the first time in her life, she felt conflicted about killing someone. Arya looked into Gendry’s eyes briefly and ended Beric’s suffering with a swift movement of her dagger. 

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“Don’t be,” a voice answered her.

Arya turned, shocked to see Melisandre standing by the fire. 

The Red Priestess lowered her hood. “The Lord had a purpose for him and he has fulfilled it. It is time for you to continue with your list. You have shut many eyes: brown eyes, green eyes… blue eyes.”

Blue eyes, as in - “Will I really be able to do it?” Arya asked.

“The future is not clear, but your family is with you. The ones alive, and the souls of the dead. You will not be alone in your journey.”

Arya nodded and took a deep breath. She knew what she needed to do. She ran up to the window, but Gendry followed her. She paused and turned to look at him.

“May I?” He asked. 

She nodded.

Gendry pulled her close slowly, giving her time to pull away if she wished to do so, and kissed her softly before letting her go. He pulled away and smiled at her.

“What do we say to the God of Death?” She asked.

He frowned, “I don’t know…”

Arya smiled and ran out through the window.

BRIENNE

Brienne sent Phil on his way and turned just in time to kill a wight before it got Jaime. He nodded at her and pressed his back to hers. 

There was a loud sound when the wights they had set on fire ran to the door. It started to burn and crack, black smoke filling the air around them.

Still, the fight was in full swing but she’d been in enough battles to know that if they didn’t leave, they would die. The walls were a lost cause and with the gate gone it wouldn’t matter anyway.

Ser Davos fell first along with some of the Northmen.

She felt blood rushing in her ears and time stopped as the gate collapsed. 

“Brienne!” Renly yelled, already running down the stairs with Loras.

Behind her, Jaime let out a groan as he fought two wights, standing between them and Tommen. 

A third one reached them and the boy fought it as best as he could. Brienne rushed to help them, fighting off yet another wight on her way, but she was too late.

Tommen had killed his opponent but lost a hand trying to help Jaime. 

They made eye contact as she killed the wight that overpowered him. She looked around but the dead were now using the gates instead of having to climb up the walls.

Jaime held onto her, running his fingers on her cheek. “You made me a better man.”

“Father,” said a conflicted Tommen, trying to stop the bleeding from his hand.

“Go,” he said. “Live a long life, son. I love you.”

“You can’t die,” Tommen cried.

“Take him, Brienne. Please.”

She kissed him one last time, wrapped the boy’s hand tightly under Jaime’s watchful eye and had to nearly carry him down. She wanted to look over her shoulder, but she knew that if she did, she would never leave him.

As soon as they got to the Courtyard, she realised exactly how bad things were going. 

The giant was dead.

PHIL

Phil ran and he didn’t look back even when he heard Wun Wun fall. He ran for the library, trusting Dan to be alright. He had almost made it up the stairs when Gendry’s head popped from a window just above him and helped him up. 

He frowned when he saw Melisandre standing calmly by the fire. The doors were barricaded with every piece of furniture available. “What happened here?” He asked.

“The wights took most of the tower but they haven’t gotten through the door yet, so we are staying here for now,” Gendry replied.

Melisandre looked into the fire and rushed to the window. “You will have to go back out. Go and get Daenerys.”

“She’s flying, she -” Phil heard an awful noise. Drogon fell, an ice spear on his chest. The wights were attacking him, crawling on him like ants, so he blasted them with dragonfire, shook some of them off and flew away.

Phil had seen Daenerys’ white fur coat as she fell. His eyes widened as he looked at Gendry. “Please,” he said.

“Let’s get her,” Gendry said decidedly.

“Bring her here. She will be cold and in pain.”

As they ran down the stairs, they could see Rhaegal attacking the Ice Dragon, hurting its eyes right above them which disoriented the beast and made it fall into the Courtyard. They barely made it past it as it started to blast blue fire in every direction. 

Ghost, Balerion, Greywind and another direwolf he had never seen before were immediately attacking it.

Phil saw Sam running towards the kennels and a group of Unsullied fighting off some wights. 

“Unsullied! Protect your Queen!” Phil heard Grey Worm say. He was pointing towards the direction he’d seen her fall. The soldiers immediately followed him.

Ser Jorah emerged from behind the Bell Tower and joined them as they exited the castle. 

Rhaegal landed near them, clearing a path to Danny, before taking off flying again. The wights were simply too many and had managed to injure him. 

Jon rushed towards Daenerys, fighting the dead just to try to get to her.

The Unsullied got there first, lining their shields in front of her, Jorah and Grey Worm staying outside the perimeter, guards up. Phil and Gendry tried to get her to her feet but she was in too much pain and crying desperately. 

“Phil, I can’t,” she admitted.

“We will get you to safety,” he said, trying to believe his own words.

Jon finally made it to them, helping keep the wights away next to Jorah. Then it was Loras and Renly covering them as well.

Phil picked Daenerys up and barely paused. “I’m taking her to the library,” he said.

“Go,” said Jon.

“Jon!” She called. 

Tyrion and Sam came next. “Phil, get The Queen to safety. The kennels are a good option.”

“She’s too cold,” he said as stayed inside the now circle of men keeping him and Danny alive. “I’m going to the library.”

“The Night King is coming,” Jon said. “Take her.” He kissed Daenerys’ hand. “I’ll see you tomorrow. I have to protect Bran now; go.”

Danny nodded and wrapped her arms around Phil tightly. Some of the wights around them dropped to the ground as Jorah killed one of the White Walkers. He ran with her. Gendry, Loras and Renly cleared the way for them, Sam and Tyrion covering their retreat as needed. 

Phil looked over his shoulder when he heard a horse and Jon lagged behind. A cloaked rider broke through the group of wights wielding a fiery flail, swinging it around and setting the dead on fire. It gave the group the chance to move faster.

“Uncle Benjen?” Jon called, out of breath.

“You did well, Jon. Go with your friends; find Bran!”

He didn’t hear Jon’s reply but there was no time to waste.

Jorah and the group of Unsullied followed them to the wall and stayed behind blocking the entrance, giving them time to get Daenerys to the Library Tower.

Inside the castle walls it was pure chaos. The Ice Dragon was still in the Courtyard, blasting fire in every direction, Dan was trying to help Lyanna Mormont and, just as he climbed the steps to the library, Phil saw the dead starting to rise again.

Then, they lost Sam. He had been the last one up the stairs and the new group of wights had taken him.

Phil tried to not think about it. He didn’t look back; not even when he heard Sam calling for help. Their group climbed through the same window and laid Danny on the ground, not knowing what to do. Phil removed her coat and wrapped her up in his furs instead.

“What do you need?” Renly asked.

“I could examine you,” offered Melisandre.

Danny’s eyes widened. “No!” She shook her head. “No witches near my unborn child.”

Melisandre nodded. “I don’t blame you. If it’s any consolation, I think that you will both survive the night.”

Phil let out a sigh of relief and tried to make Danny comfortable with what little they had. Every man gave her his coat and talked to her, trying to keep her distracted. Loras even braided her hair as Renly held her hand. 

Brienne and a weak Tommen joined them and Danny invited the pale boy to lay at her side under the furs.

Danny was frustrated at not being able to continue fighting, especially when she heard Viserion growl in pain, but the fear for her baby kept her as still as possible. For once, she let other people take care of her.

“I am going back out there,” Loras said. “I can’t stay here and wait while they’re still out there.”

Renly, Brienne, Gendry and Phil walked up to him, weapons in hand.

“Not you, Phil,” said Renly. “Stay with your cousin, she needs you.”

“You are not going anywhere either. Daenerys will need protection in here in case…” Loras trailed off. “Brienne and Gendry, with me,” he said and pulled the window open.

Phil felt sick to his stomach. He knew that they were right but Dan was out there, somewhere - or perhaps…

Gendry placed his hand on Phil’s shoulder. “We’ll find him.”

“He would want you to help the others. Let the Starks be Starks,” he said, his eyes blurring with unshed tears. He returned to Danny and kept an eye on a quiet Melisandre.

It couldn’t have been an hour after his friends left that Winterfell fell into a complete silence.

BRAN

Yara looked at him in worry. “Are you alright? Would you like me to take you inside?”

Bran shook his head. “No. He will come for me. It’s better for me to stay here and try to help than flee and put more people in danger.”

“I will be right here with you,” she said.

“You don’t look scared,” he observed.

“I am not. What is dead may never die,” she said, repeating the words of House Greyjoy with a hand on her chest. “I am here to repay Theon’s debt to you. He took this castle from you and I am going to help you save it along with all the people inside.”

“Theon paid his debts and died a brave man. I wasn’t here, but I saw him helping Dan the night they took Winterfell back. He did it for me, and for Robb and the rest of us; his family.”

Yara smiled at him for the first time and nodded. “He was a kind hearted child. Too kind to be an Ironborn; he felt at home here, with the Starks. Even if he was brought here as a hostage first, I know he never regretted leaving the Iron Islands as much as he thought he did.”

Bran nodded. “I must go now. There is a chance I could stop this from ever happening.”

“What do I do if the Night King comes while you are… away?”

“Call my name and use dragonglass. Stick it with the pointy end,” he smiled and pressed his hand to the weirwood tree. 

He searched from memory to memory, thinking who could possibly defeat the Night King? The first time it had taken so much magic it was impossible to recreate. The Children of the Forest were weakened and too few after the Andal invasion. His next option was a Targaryen. There were some cruel, some deranged, others completely abstracted from reality… Aerys II - The Mad King had not been mad his entire life. No, he had been a benevolent King at first.

Bran watched him live his life, raise his children to be good, make careful decisions to keep the peace in Westeros. Bran’s vision blurred, the memories started mixing in his head, crashing like the waves in the sea, dragging him down. He rushed to Aerys, running up the small set of steps to The Iron throne. “Wildfire!” Bran whispered into his ear. “Use wildfire and burn the dead! Only fire and dragonglass can stop them! Burn them!”

Aerys turned to him, looking into Bran’s eyes and gasped. He turned to his left and heard Varys’ whispers.

“Burn the dead! Burn them!” Bran yelled as the memory changed, he saw a much older Aerys laughing and screaming. “Burn them all! Burn them all!”

“No!” Bran pleaded. “Only the dead!”

“Burn them all!” The Mad King screamed. “Burn the men, the women and the children, burn them all!”

The memory shifted, Bran saw Cersei smirking as her pyromancer created wildfire for her, and when she plotted to kill the Tyrells. Then, he was in the Red Keep. He heard the dragons flying over him and looked up to see the roof of the Throne Room completely gone, snow, or perhaps ashes, falling from the sky. 

He turned around and saw the Night King making his way towards him inside the memory. 

Bran gasped and pulled his hand back. He had failed; the ink was dry and in his attempt to continue to tamper with the past he had driven the King mad and caused the death of his grandfather and uncle. There was nothing he could do in the past, but he could still try in the present. 

Bran’s eyes rolled to the back of his head as he looked for the Ice Dragon. It was injured, being attacked by the direwolves in the Courtyard. There were unmoving bodies littered everywhere, while Jon and Arya tried to reach the Godswood, but were unable to run past the dragon.

Just when there was a semblance of peace, with enough wights killed to be able to breathe a little easier, Bran saw the new dead rise to their feet. Dan rushed to a badly injured Lyanna Mormont, who was struggling to speak, to beg him for mercy, the light in her eyes starting to fade. Dan grabbed a small piece of dragonglass and pushed it into her chest, making her blink repeatedly.   

Kinvara touched his shoulder and told him to run to Bran, that she would help the girl. 

There was no way he would be able to make it, yet Dan patted his belt in search of more dragonglass and ran, trying to reach the Godswood by passing behind the dragon only to be hit with the tail and knocked into a group of wights.

It was dangerous, but Bran tried to push his mind into the Ice Dragon, to warg into it, but it had some sort of protection. Above him, Viserion looked down and saw it, making a sharp descent towards the Courtyard and snapping his jaws around the Ice Dragon’s neck, hurting himself in the process.

Jon ran past the battling dragons, briefly pausing at the call of an already surrounded Sam, he heard him say his name but it was too late, he was too far away; Jon had to abandon him in order to get to the Godswood. Shutting his eyes to avoid seeing his friend die, Jon helped Dan escape the wights swarming him and both were able to keep running, avoiding the flames that the Ice Dragon blasted around the Courtyard and every wall in the vicinity, killing most of the wights as it tried to free itself.

Desperate, Bran returned to his body and looked around. Yara stared at him intently as did her men. “He’s coming,” he said as the temperature around them dropped dramatically. A group of wights closing in on him and the Ironborn. 

Dan was the first to come to his aid, his sword swinging in one hand, and dragonglass in the other. Jon came next, as the Ironborn started to fall.

Just as they killed the rest of the wights around, Bran looked to the entrance of the Godswood and saw the White Walkers already forming lines around them, only allowing a space for their King to walk in. In that moment he showed himself, slowly approaching them, his ice sword in hand.

JON

Jon rushed towards the Night King, meeting him in combat as far away from Bran as he could, but hearing a new wave of wights climbing up the walls, rushing towards Bran was distracting him. 

“Dan!” He screamed. “I need you to protect Bran!”

“I am, focus on him!” Dan yelled in desperation.

The Night King smirked at him. It was the first time Jon saw him make any sort of expression and it was chilling.

Their swords singed as they clashed over and over again. Jon grunted and swon at the Night King again, but he ducked just in time. Reaching for an ice dagger, the White Walker recovered quickly and stabbed Jon on his right shoulder, causing him to scream in pain and drop his sword.

His eyes widened, knowing that he was seconds away from death - again.

DAN

Dan saw Bran’s eyes turn white but he was too preoccupied with keeping the wights at bay. Yara being the only one left standing at his side. 

He got a moment to take a breath as they killed the last wights in the vicinity, the next wave already crawling into the Godswood. Dan saw Jon’s sword fall before he heard his scream. 

“Jon!” He called, but he knew he could not abandon Bran. He had to do what was right, even if it meant letting Jon die.

Then, something happened. The Night King moved slow, too slow, his eyes turning momentarily brown. Was it-?

Arya jumped down the roof of the armoury, landing on a tree and running straight into battle. Using the stones around the lake, she launched herself towards the Night King, almost managing to kill him with her dragonglass dagger, but before she struck, he turned, grabbing her by the neck, causing her to drop her weapon. 

Jon picked his sword with his left hand and swung at him, but again, the Night King stabbed his shoulder, slowly sinking to his feet as the blood loss weakened him. 

Even if the Night King was struggling to move, his eyes shifting between brown and bright blue as Bran tried to take hold over his body, Jon and Arya were no match for him.

A few wights made it to the weirwood once again, Dan feeling more and more tired with every passing second. With an seemingly endless army of wights finding them, the White Walkers lining the exit and the Night King, The Long Night was quickly starting to look like their last.

Dan killed as many wights as he could before realising Bran’s nose was bleeding and he was shaking violently. “Bran! Bran!” He screamed. “What do you need?”

His brother opened his eyes, the brown slowly turning into bright blue. “Please,” he said, guiding the piece of dragonglass in Dan’s hand towards his chest.

Taking a step back, Dan tried to pry his hand away. “No!”

Dan heard Arya yell “tonight!” in a hoarse voice and looked over his shoulder in time to see the Night King’s body cracking as she sank the Valyrian steel dagger Dan had given her so many years ago into him. He heard the sound of ice cracking all around him as every White Walker he had created shattered into fine ice and every wight slump to the floor.

“Dan!” Bran begged. “Dan, please!”

Dan looked into Bran’s eyes, his heart dropping as he saw the bright blue taking over them, all remnants of his little brother lost forever as the Night King got a new and more powerful body. Tears rolled down Dan’s face as he sank the shard of dragonglass into Bran’s chest.

He looked around and screamed, rushing towards Arya, sinking to his knees at her side only to stare into her unseeing eyes. Then, Dan crawled towards Jon and sobbed when he realised he was still alive. 

#phanfiction #phanfic #phan #phan au #succubusphan fics #game of thrones #got fic #ospbb 2022

[reservoirreputation]

'Ashtray' extras

Notes and behind-the-scenes stuff for my ResDogs fic of the same name

[] indicates current author's notes

This nearly 15k, four chapter fic started off as a one-shot, btw.

-self-indulgent bottle fic:

setting: a northern state, deep in the winter, on the cusp of a snow storm

the players: cop!Freddy, criminal!Larry

the setup: Freddy and Larry cross paths, and have to work together to survive a snowstorm that cuts them off from the rest of civilization.

the setup, continued: Freddy was trying to apprehend Larry for one reason or another, when they get into an accident; Freddy’s right ankle gets messed up (twisted, sprained, broken, etc) and now he can’t walk/drive safely. Getting Larry to do it is out of the question because of the weather conditions, let alone their standings as cop and crook. The two take shelter at an abandoned home/hotel, and Freddy, a recent transfer from SoCal, is not doing well. It’s now up to Larry, who may or may not be a local, but he certainly has experience with these kinds of winters, to keep them both alive.

potential end: After seemingly getting better, Freddy’s foot gets worse, and the roads clear up just enough for Larry to get him to the nearest hospital. But, they’ve spent so much time together, bonded, fallen for each other, that Freddy begs Larry not to leave him. Larry, though he believes Freddy won’t turn him in, not at this point, can’t trust that someone won’t get suspicious upon seeing him with a cop that went missing for days/weeks. He goes away to let things cool off, which sends Freddy into a depression. He asks the doctors about where the guy who brought him in went, as no name was given, and they have no clue. An amputation surgery later, and Freddy’s in physical therapy, trying to pick up the pieces of his life and look forward to the future he now gets to have. A couple of weeks to a month later, Larry finds out where Freddy lives, and swings by his house, more than a little prepared for a verbal tongue-

lashing. Instead, he’s greeted with a relieved Freddy, who brings him in for a very unsteady hug.

what Larry got pinched for: perhaps he and Pink were on a job for Cabot. Just met, no alliances, or maybe they’ve worked together a handful of times? Either way, they get caught by Officer Newandyke, and despite Larry being really fit for his age, Pink’s still faster than most people, including Larry. Left holding the bag, Larry’s brought in, and that’s when the accident occurs. Maybe later, we catch up with Pink, who’s met up with Cabot, and after they don’t see any reports of Dimmick being caught, guess that he must’ve gotten caught in the storm. Being quite loyal, Joe sends out reinforcements.

why Larry sticks around: So far, he’s been arrested for theft. While not ideal, it’s not the worst thing to get pinched for. Possibly, Larry didn’t take any form of ID with him to this job, so that’s something that would only come out once they got to the station. Also to come out would be Larry’s association with Cabot. The idea of running crosses Larry’s mind, but the weather conditions make that perilous for him at his age, on his own. Not impossible, but still. Larry may think of what other people he knows would say to do, such as Vega, who would shrug and go, “Kill the pig”, which Larry won’t do because that would needlessly escalate things and make Joe look bad. Equally bad, letting Freddy die, even if he had the excuse of 1) saving himself 2) being unable to help, he’s no doctor, after all, the local cops won’t be as understanding. Really, as the situation worsens, Larry reckons this: he’s looking at jail time, regardless. Keeping a pig from freezing to death might make the judge go easy on him.

character background, Larry: Larry’s worked with the Cabots for decades. He’s a loyal man, and there’s one major benefit to working for the family, and that’s their flexibility. So, when Larry needs to head back home, Joe still hooks him up with jobs, and is considerate to how Larry really shouldn’t ‘shit where he eats’. Gives him low stakes or low risk jobs just far away enough from home base that Larry remains relatively safe. Larry left home in his early twenties for the same reason many young adults do; to get the fuck away from his parents. In Larry’s specific case, parent, as his Dad left before he was born and his Mom was emotionally abusive. He never saw her again when she was alive, only returning home when the estate needed to be settled. Sold the old place, further distanced himself from those bad memories, and fell back in love with his hometown. Perhaps one of the mother’s issues was addiction, painkillers. So, when Larry’s confronted with Freddy’s injury, he’s forced to, to some extent, sympathize with his mother, even if it’s just one facet of who she was. [honestly, only reason this parallel between Freddy/the mom and a deeper dive into Larry’s past is because I forgot]

potential B plot: what if both the Cabots and the local police are looking for Larry and Freddy, respectively? Have a moment where the latter’s hands are tied legally, told they can’t put other cops in danger just to find one, whereas Joe has the money and resources to send a search party for Larry, especially because he may still have the loot on him. A moment, even, of the two parties crossing paths, several days in.

character background, Freddy: Originally from California, LA at that, he was transferred to a Northern state, possibly Wisconsin. He may have been moved because of an incident at work; not corrupt cop shit, but maybe he got into a fight with a corrupt cop? Chief sided with the asshole/instigator, and Freddy got moved. Perhaps it’s his boss looking out for him, knowing that though Freddy’s in the right, the asshole has too many friends and connections at the station for it to be safe for Freddy to stay. 

The fight could be about several things coming to a head, from professionalism, to lack thereof, to one’s personal life, like the asshole cop fucking one of his coworkers while his wife’s at home, and bringing Freddy’s ‘preferences’ up when he’s called out on it. Maybe Freddy’s pissed because his only serious relationship ended with him being cheated on, and he doesn’t want to stand by as that happens to someone else, especially because he knows the wife and feels bad for her on a level of friendship. Maybe, rather than come out and admit his baggage, Freddy goes the logical route and says that ‘fucking your coworker will just make you messy in the field. If you wouldn’t bring your work home, why should you bring your personal life here?’ Something that Freddy would never dream of doing, since he tries very hard to not let on to his fellow officers that he’s queer. So, perhaps this asshole is a good cop, but a shitty person, and while he’s no psycho, he embodies a lot of toxic masculinity bullshit. Maybe even follow up, months later, that Freddy was right and things got super messy at work for the guy. [it was a last-minute decision, having Freddy find out first hand that the guy was cheating. I was reluctant to include it at first, but it overall fit the story really well, having Freddy try to hook up with him, nearly becoming ‘the other man’]

notes from phone: Pink and White were sent to steal from a place that was closed because of the inclement weather, such as a bank. Freddy was called in to check up on said bank.

addition to Freddy’s background: maybe he earns cash on the side as a security guard for a local bank, and would get paid overtime if he checked up on the place, as a motion detector had been set off.

potential beginning: Summer 1992: we open to an alley in the summer, someone trimming the weeds by their back gate. They trip over something, cursing; it’s a water access hole, and the lid’s been tampered with. Muttering under their breath about ‘it could kill somebody’ and ‘typical city sloppiness’ as they limp away. Cut to winter time, Freddy’s POV. 

Winter 1992: Freddy’s doing an after-hours favor for a sick coworker, checking out the bank whose alarm has gone off. It’s less expected that someone’s broken in, and more about worries of the roof caving in from the excess amounts of snow. One-man job, in and out, having reset the alarm and recorded any damages. Surprise-surprise, the place is actually being burgled. While in the car, we get a combo of the police scanner and the local weather channel on a portable radio, something most of Freddy’s peers do. This is how we get exposition on the weather, Freddy’s newness to the area and snow in general, and even references to some of his current and former coworkers. We end his section with meeting White.

Larry’s POV: Maybe back it up a few moments; one minute he and Pink are working at the main safe, an entire room behind several layers of security, Pink a former employee, the next Pink’s run off, leaving White to hold the literal bag. Cut to White, handcuffed, shoved into the back of the squad car. They begin driving, mostly in silence, until the car starts to stall. The cop pulls over, nearby an alley, and starts to think. Battery is dying, and the walkie isn’t working. The cop has one of the cellphones that might as well be a brick, and can’t get a signal. “You local?” “I don’t have to say anything” or ‘silence’. “Because I’m not, and I have no clue what the weather does to these cars. What should I do?” Cut to both standing in front of the open hood, White still tied up, peering in. He spots easily that the battery got too cold, possibly needs to be jumpstarted. Have to find someone that is around and willing to help. Thing is, the area’s been mostly abandoned, with only essential personnel/first responders lingering. White knows the area a bit, suggests taking a shortcut down the alley, because an auto shop should be nearby, and they can steal a car battery. The cop gives him a dirty look, and White reframes it, “we can ‘borrow’ one, how about that?” As they start to march forward, because the cop doesn’t know what he’s looking for, and thinks it cruel to leave the crook in an unheated car for who knows how long, and this way they both can work up a sweat, they start down the alley, sticking to where the grass would normally grow, as to avoid ice patches. Suddenly, the cop trips, and with one hand on White, brings him down with him. White is pissed, about to make fun of this out-of-towner, when he sees the cop is in the ground. Hauling himself up, wincing in pain, the cop yelps when he tries to stand on his right foot; he’s scraped up and rolled his ankle when his foot fell through a layer of snow and grass, into a partially uncovered water main.

Next scene, Freddy’s POV: the two enter the nearby house, with its ‘For Sale: SOLD’ sign semi-obscured, but legible. Some furniture, mostly things too big/cumbersome for a move. There’s a bedframe, but no mattress. Some dishes, no food, a fireplace with no fuel. The crook drops Freddy off, propped up next to the bedframe, and promises to come back with supplies. Freddy braces himself to be left alone, and for the newly-freed criminal to ditch him, and that it was a better alternative to getting killed. Does it sting, because it feels like getting kicked while he’s down? Yeah. Now, rather than a quick death of the guy just shooting Freddy, Freddy gonna have to do it himself, or hold out hope he won’t freeze to death. or starve. Or get an infection. He’s not even looked at his wound properly, yet. Really, the whole ‘am I going to die here?’ doesn’t start until Freddy lifts up his pant leg, and sees the condition of his ankle; The skin is more than broken, a bone poking through. Infection’s looking like a very real possibility. Feeling sorry for himself that he’s only in this position because he needed the money from an extra shift, Freddy starts to break down, only to bottle his feelings back up as the crook returns.

(A/N: outdated, but some elements still used)Larry’s POV: There’s this sense of tension, of someone quickly wiping away tears, not wanting to be seen, which he only recognizes from having to do the same, himself. This is the first time Larry sees the cop as damn-near a kid, feeling both pity and the urge to reassure. Regaining his icy exterior (easy since the cop gets onto Larry for stealing supplies, though it’s the difference between them living and freezing) Larry points out a better location for them to move to, but that the whole neighborhood’s without power. Is frustrated when the kid refuses to move, like an empty house is as far as he’s willing to take breaking and entering, when he sees the cop’s compound fracture. There’s no moving the guy. The cop, now knowing the severity of his wounds, gives Larry the keys to his squad car, telling him to grab whatever supplies he sees, namely the first aid kit in the trunk. Larry knows the car might as well be dead in the water, but it shows a remarkable amount of confidence, even trust, that Larry won’t just steal a new car battery, pop that in, and make off on his own. This is when Larry reminds himself, and the reader, that there’s too much connecting him to this cop, this arrest, and that theft may be bad, but manslaughter’s much, much worse. He comes back in with a bundle of emergency supplies, such as road flares, flashlight, snacks, reflective blanket, and the all-important first aid kit and portable radio, as well as some stuff he found in nearby homes; bottles of water, ready to eat food, supplies for a fire place. He goes out a third time for blankets, pillows, clothing such as socks, since both their pairs are soaking wet from the snow, but not before dressing the cop’s wound.

Cut to Pink’s POV, where he’s breathlessly filling Joe in about what happened, as a fresh batch of snow blankets everything, specifically obscuring the squad car from view. Not knowing this, Joe and Eddie spend the evening questioning contacts, waiting for news of Larry’s booking, only for there to be silence. The first assumption is that the weather has stopped them from ever reaching the police station, and the less likely, but more dangerous for Larry, option is considered only under extreme circumstances, that his arrest isn’t on the record because he’s cut a deal, and is telling the cops everything he knows. Now, the crew does consider that, if the cops got Larry to turn on them, that they would book him anyway to keep up appearances. But, people are panicking, and reason doesn’t come to mind, as easily. It’s decided to send out a search party, along with off-duty roadcrews that are on the payroll, to start seeing if Larry, and potentially the cop as well, are trapped. End chapter one. [This last sentence? Right here? Is when I knew I was fucked]

Chapter two: we actually start at the end of night one, as Freddy and Larry are confronted with the inevitable; it’s cold as hell, they only have so many blankets, and sharing body heat is so much more efficient. Freddy’s POV, as he’s vulnerable on multiple fronts; a cop relying on a criminal to help him, and not kill him in his sleep, vulnerable because of his injury and afraid of freezing to death, and vulnerable because he’s queer, and has never slept next to someone in his adult life that he didn’t previously fuck. He thinks vaguely how it would be his luck that being gay would be the final straw for this thief, the thing to push him over the edge and smother Freddy, so Freddy just tries repressing all potential thoughts as hard as he can.

A switch to Larry’s POV, and efforts to ‘no homo’ have failed, resulting in cuddling. But, hey, at least he’s warm, though confused. He gets up, grabs them both a light breakfast, and then takes a look outside- -where everything’s covered in a thick blanket of snow. He can’t even tell where the lawn ends and the street begins. No other cars in sight, he tries to trek towards the previously mentioned auto shop, once more, hoping for more time to look around for a car battery, having to cut time short the night before to get essential supplies for the night. He’s SoL, but tries to make the trip mean something, grabbing more things, even if just for the sake of comfort. Catches himself wondering what would cheer the cop up, attempts to banish the thought.

Worldbuilding note: perhaps the majority of the neighborhood’s abandoned because it’s in the middle of being gentrified. Some houses have been sold, these ones are empty, and others have been condemned, this is where Larry finds the majority of supplies.

Freddy’s POV: the crook gets back, gives the not-so-great news, but has plenty of treats/meds. Redressing of the wound, gives Freddy some pills for his fever. His ankle’s gross-looking, a little swollen, but the bleeding’s stopped, for the most part. There’s not many clean clothes, so Freddy goes through most of the gauze and padding pretty quickly. Getting more supplies is once again the crook’s priority, to which Freddy holds him back and insists that he also take care of himself; burning the candle at both ends will just get them both killed. Freddy knows at this point that the crook’s just doing all of this to not be hooked for murder, and to maybe get a lighter sentence, overall, but it’s still the best Freddy’s been treated in years, and he’s already very emotionally attached to some guy he doesn’t even know the name of. He starts to feel more and more like a burden, and the very real threat that Freddy will get the two of them killed weighs heavily on his mind. The older man can at least walk, he’d probably survive a trip further into town. Freddy’s job is to protect the public, after all; what sense would it make for him to get anyone dead, even a criminal? It’s not like the guy was violent, and even seemed to go out of his way to not have a confrontation. But, the nature of their stalemate is made all the more clear, to both parties, now; Larry can’t leave without making things worse for himself. They can’t stay together without risking them both freezing to death. The tragedy of Larry’s awful choice, and the tragedy of Freddy’s lack of one. How this crook is selfless for sticking around to help Freddy, and Freddy’s the coward who doesn’t want to die alone.

PD’s POV: the other cops have finally taken notice to Freddy’s absence, mostly in the form of the bank he was checking on the property of calling once more, wanting him to go back, unable to currently get in touch. It was supposed to be Freddy’s day off, and he’s not social at the station, explaining why none of his peers noticed a thing amiss. They try sending someone out, but can’t really spare the manpower; accidents on the highway, mostly from snow/black ice, take precedence. He’s just one cop, not hated nor liked, and there’s just not that much motivation to find him. Possible dialogue, really leaning into a black comedy sense of humor, “Anyone feel like there’s something… off?” “Nope- Nah- Not me.” Gets phone call  “Hey, anybody see Newandyke come in, today?” snickering “Dyke who?” annoyed stares “That beach bum should be off today, why?” “That bank in the shit part of town wants him” “He moonlighting as security?” “Dunno.” pause “Someone wanna call him?” Has to ask the chief for the guy’s contact info because no one knows much about him *Hey, you think he got caught in that storm?” Everyone laughs “Serves that LA boy right” Eventually, a couple of cops try to look for him on their spare time.

Chapter three: Freddy wakes up, his fever much worse. Things are getting pretty dire, and the crook tries lifting his spirits by telling Freddy of happier times. They end up learning more about each other in a day, three days really, than they know of anyone else in either of their lives, period. But the bubble bursts as Larry hears a car outside, slowly crunching through the snow. He promises to return, giving an excited, impromptu kiss to Freddy’s forehead. We leave with Freddy having this sinking feeling that Larry may not be coming back.

Larry waves down the car, and is shocked to see that the all-terrain, off-road vehicle contains none other than his fellow criminals- including Pink. He thinks back desperately as to the likelihood of Pink seeing the cop who arrested Larry, and holds his tongue as he’s bombarded with questions, “Where have you been?” “Did you get away?” “Lose the pig?” and all that Larry can reply with is, “I’ve been sheltering in place, because of the storm.” “Well, no shit!” “Come on in, man, the car’s nice and toasty.” “I can’t.” “What do you mean ‘can’t’?” “I got away, and came across this guy- he’s hurt real bad. I’ve been looking out for him.” a look is exchanged between the group, maybe even with Eddie present, “Civilian?” “I know nothing about him.” “Hospital-bad?” “Compound fracture.” more silence, with Eddie relenting, “Blindfold him. He keeps his mouth shut, and the rest of us say nothing. If something really needs to be said, write it down.” and with that, Larry goes back inside to collect Freddy, telling him of the arrangement. They’ve long since ditched Freddy’s wet, soiled police uniform, and his two-day old beard may be thin, but it’s better than nothing. Elects to put an entire bag on Freddy’s head, to reduce the chances of Pink recognizing him. They head out. Freddy spends the whole ride with his head on Larry’s shoulder, with the other occupants shooting Larry a questionable look. As they pull up outside of the hospital, Eddie motions for Pink to start walking Freddy to the door, as he has a word with Larry, “What’s wrong with you? You’re always taking in stray animals.” “The man needed help, what the hell are you on about?” “Daddy’s right, you’ve got a bleeding heart.” Larry catches up with Pink and Freddy, taking over for the crook.

Freddy can tell when it’s Larry at his arm again, posture relaxing and he gives a smile that the recipient cannot see. Before they come into view of the front of the hospital, and out of sight of Eddie’s car, Larry takes the bag off, pocketing it. Freddy continues to smile, and Larry looks so confused. They head inside, Larry passing Freddy of to an orderly as he begins filling out paperwork. Larry tells them everything he can, because now that Freddy’s in safer hands, he all but passes out. As Larry’s not next-of-kin, he can’t stay, He locks eyes with Freddy one more time, watching as the kid’s face falls, realizing they didn’t get a proper goodbye. Larry leaves.

Chapter Four: A time jump of about a week. Larry is summoned into Joe’s office, as Larry is asked if there’s any connection between the guy he so generously helped, and the missing cop that just so happened to turn up at the same hospital the ‘poor, wounded puppy’ was left off at. Larry says it doesn’t matter, several people can confirm that the guy only saw Larry’s face, and that everyone else should be safe. Joe shakes his head, saying that Larry can leave on good terms, but that he’s too much of a liability, now. He’s effectively fired. Joe keeps his word he won’t be holding a grudge, and that Larry won’t have to look over his shoulder. Larry wishes he could believe that.

Freddy’s finally sent home, bag in hand. The chief visits him, apologizes for not sending help out, sooner. Freddy waves him off, absolving his soon to be former boss of any and all guilt. The chief promises to grant him a generous severance package, enough to keep Freddy afloat until he can get more work, promises to provide a glowing reference when the time comes. Freddy’s not sure what he’s going to do, yet, but appreciates the gesture, anyway. When he’s left alone, again, his thoughts return to Larry, and his heart breaks. He cries for not being able to see Larry again, not just the person who saved him from dying several different ways, not just as the person who set aside their own interests for Freddy’s survival, but because Larry was the only person in Freddy’s life to show him care, kindness, affection. The way Freddy lived was bearable before, only because he never knew what he was missing. To know how good it can be, and to have lost it, hurts worse than anything.

Jump to another week, and Freddy’s holding his own. He’s adjusted to his cane pretty well, has rearranged things in his house to make it more handicap-friendly, and has successfully kept up with his chores, though the learning curve is a bitch. There’s a knock at his door, and it takes him a minute to make his way over. Peering through the peephole, Freddy can’t get the door open fast enough, bringing Larry in for a breathless hug. Without getting out so much as a ‘Hi’, Larry returns it, fully taking on Freddy’s weight as the other lifts his cane off of the ground to fully wrap both arms around Larry. After a few seconds, the hug goes from crushing and desperate to something much softer, sentimental. When they pull apart, and Freddy stumbles a little, it’s the first time Larry notices that Freddy’s foot had been amputated.

Potential final scene: we fast-forward to the next spring, so Spring 1993, and a city worker is finally responding to the complaint about the water main lid. They vaguely think about how this order has been sitting on their desk for the better part of a year, buried under more pressing tasks. They think, as well, about how lucky they are to get here and take care of it before anyone got hurt, they’ve heard of stories, after all, of people breaking their necks on these things.

#reservoir dogs #fanfic #writers #writing #notes #behind the scenes #extras #nerdy shit

[sweet-little-dude]

hi hi taku my love!! <3 this is the k polycule ask plus i remembered that i’ve been writing a bajiharu fic and i also wanna talk about that hehe. actually i’ll talk abt that first bc the k polycule is all happy and the bajiharu fic.... not so much. and you deserve healing :)

btw btw beware this is long. really long. i copied this message into a wordcounter and it’s 1.5k without the paragraph you’re reading rn... whoopsies. i insaned a little on my ramble. do tell me if i should shorten it bc it’s too long, and take all the time you need to reply afhjfdgjjgdfh

so okay the bajiharu (baji x sanzu just in case that’s not clear for some reason) wip is currently sitting at 15k and. wtf man 15k ?? i wrote that ?? damn. anyways idk how many of my posts abt it you’ve read but it’s p much a giant character/relationship study of the two. basically bajiharu across the years and timelines. canon compliant too, which sadly means that baji is dead most of the time but oh well. it is VERY angsty (i mean baji is dead that’s where the angst is starting already... and i mean sanzu’s canon life) and uh. i keep describing sanzu dying in nearly every future timeline but i’m having a ton of fun :D also it’s gonna be angst with a happy ending when i’m finished and probably around 30k words. a 30k one-shot. i don’t think i can even chapter it.... welp. accidents happen. yk this was supposed to be a maximum of 5k of bajiharu in the og shin timeline (the one in which he lives and mikey has the accident and ends up dying and stuff) and the final timeline but. uhh. uhm. yeah honestly idk what i did but my brain wouldn’t let go of them so here we are lol

i would summarise the plot of the fic but there hardly is one ?? like it’s just random excerpts from their lives. i mean some of them are like 3k long too and def have plots in and of itself but there’s no greater plot to be summarised 😭

tho what i can say is that they actually are somewhat together in the og timeline and they are.. happily together. they are NOT happy in fact they are miserable but they love each other in a tender way yk. but but they WILL be happy in the final timeline. and happily together too!! i just need them to be happy pls okay thanks. in between baji is dead so not many feelings on his part (😭😭) but sanzu is a miserable wet cat. also i have the most tragic death planned for him in the bonten timeline bc i am a ‘‘weird on-off-ish romance-ish but they don't wanna admit it's that even though it very obviously is and there is so much emotional (and sexual) tension and my god how can they live like this’’ bonten rinzu truther. wowie. and wouldn’t it be really fun if rindou accidentally shot sanzu on a mission gone heavily wrong that ends in sanzu dying in his arms? yeah <3

also!! akashi siblings!! i very much plan on writing abt them too in some timelines. specifically i think i’ll have sanzu move in with senju in the manila timeline before mikey kills him off (i am so excited to write this you don’t know istg) and i’ll have him move back in with takeomi in that one timeline in which izana takes over and naoto & takemichi end up dying in the future bc i hc that senju was shot dead in the past and sanzu has nowhere else to go after mikey’s death (bc he’s actually dead in that future...) so yeah. akashi siblings <3

also in case you wonder what my current 15k cover so far (i’m forcing myself to write chronologically for once bc i really wanna finish this and i’ve got a lot of scenes i’m excited to write i can use to push through the others), it’s the og timeline, the timeline in which draken gets killed by kiyomasa, one of the two following timelines in which draken survives and ends up on death row (i decided to cut one of them bc imo they’re too similar to write abt again), and some past stuff happening before that. which. is not a lot. just now realising how unmuch that is actually wtf it feels like sm more- okay anyways i plan on writing about the bad toman timeline with takemichi as executive, the manila future, bonten future, the future timeline after that with izana, and naoto & takemichi dying, possibly some tenjiku timeskip stuff, and then ofc the final timeline. (i. i gotta say i hope those 30k aren’t lowballing it by like 10k bc if you consider that i’ve written for three timelines plus some inbetween bits and i’m planning for another five whole timelines with inbetween stuff-- ayayay bajiharu is gonna be the death of me)

uhm this is already mUCH longer than planned help buuuut some k polycule stuff bc i love them and they love each other and they are happy. okay so ik you read my posts abt them so i’ll just start with them in their mid/late thirties, finally settled down somewhere they feel safe and they actually like :3 cough cough switzerland mayhaps ? cough cough. yk it can’t be japan anyways... and switzerland is far away...... and i know it well....

okay. they adopt a cat. or maybe two. probably two actually. two cats for them bc they’d like some company other than themselves and kazutora loves cats anyways. i believe that koko is actually more of a dog person bc inupi, but he’s the type of guy to go ‘‘ofc YOU GUYS can get a cat. it’s gonna be YOUR cat. YOU will have to take care of it. i won’t (unless absolutely neccessary.)’’ and then a month or smth after they get a cat kazutora & kakucho are away for a weekend for.. work or smth idk and when they get home koko & the cat are sleeping on the couch while he’s hugging the cat close to his chest, and there’s cat toys all over the floor bc he spent hours playing with the cat. he will still refuse to admit how much he loves the cat but he continues to play and snuggle with it whenever his bfs (husbands? i feel like they’d wear matching wedding rings and call each other husbands even if they legally aren’t bc poly marriage is forbidden) aren’t there to see. also this is really random but kakucho is the small spoon, kokonoi the middle spoon, and kazutora the big spoon. or two of them just sleep hugging the third person.

kazutora would work at a pet shop again i think. maybe he’d even study medicine to become a vet assistant? tbh i’ve always seen him doing that more than chifuyu or baji (tho i love vet student baji too <3). struggling with giving the other two jobs bc after bonten i don’t think kakucho would still want to work with kids (tho i def see him doing some kind of charity work in his free time) and kokonoi... he can’t sponsor anyone like this nor could he do finances for anyone, and he would never ever work at a bank. he’d still like a high paying job/smth at least loosly related to money tho. maybe like some sort of secretary for someone in finances? idk. very open to ideas for these two bc well i am stuck lol.

i think they’d mostly just try to take it slow and enjoy their more peaceful lives now (well kazutora’s life was pretty peaceful before too.. but kokonoi & kakucho) without having to worry about illegal and dangerous and whatnot else stuff. they deserve it okay they all had to go through too many things 😭

also more random stuff about them. kokonoi is banned from the kitchen not because he’s a safety hazard or because he burned down the kitchen once or smth but because he keeps wanting to cook overly expensive gourmet foods, and while they do taste good they are way too expensive and take way too much. plus he HATES having other people in the kitchen with him (he straight up locks them out) and refuses to leave the kitchen while he’s cooking even if he has to wait two hours for something to slowly simmer on low heat so essentially he AND the kitchen are gone for half a day if he wants to make dinner. he doesn’t really mind the kitchen ban though so it works. i think kakucho enjoys cooking the most, but he and kazutora both cook a lot. and sometimes kokonoi forces himself to wake up extra early on weekends (like. 6am. and then he’s done at 7am. and the other two wake up at 9am when early, more like 10am to 11am bc weekend and kokonoi has to wait with his beautifully prepared breakfast for hours) to make pancakes for them all <3

uhh that’s everything in my brain rn i think. i hope. and this is already a fucking essay so whoopsies. anyways that was it, i very much hope you enjoyed my long ass rambles <3 fr fr i missed writing these rambles for you,, but aa i can do that again!! :D

hello elys my love <333 but allg!! i actually read this whole thing a few days after u sent it initially but ive been rlly drained these past like 3 weeks so i hadnt been able to get to it :(( apologies again my love

no cuz fr 15k crazy!!!!! good job!!! no cuz like that lil description of ur rinzu is actually so real.... (this is making me miss my tokyorev hyperfixation so bad ngl) but ur bajiharu fic sounds so good!! the idea and concept of it is so well thought of i applaud u so muchhh

NO CUZ FR WRITING ABT THINGS UR FAMILIAR WITH >> its like u know it so fuckin well which means u can go into rlly good amounts of detail like !!!!!!!!!! ok so first paragraph is so :333 koko being a softie for the cat is so sweettttt omg

i think the jobs u chose for them are good !! suits them all very well but yes agreed they most definitely deserve it <33

ofc its kokonoi doing that, but u cant blame him fr hez just being a good husband </3333

it was fun having this in my inbox again !!! i miss doing these too and i hope the late reply doesnt discourage u <333

#missed this fr #elys n taku rambles

[stayxlix]

CHAPTER 4 LET’S GAURRR!

Ooh ‘the eighth’ sounds sexy Welcome back to season 3 ( or 2?) of Julian’s play-by-play commentary hehe🤭 Sorry in advance for how long this ask is gonna be.

“You will come across many soulmates in your current lifetime. But that doesn't mean you will get to keep them.” WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY THAT?😃Pls don’t raise my blood pressure from the get-go. Anyways concept photos ate as always. Bottom left one is my favourite. The minsung one is kinda unsettling tho… foreshadowing maybe👀

Btw Minho best not give me a hard time this chapter I literally do NOT have the capacity to deal with his beef rn. Idk why I think mc will win Jeongin over tho. But hey, we’ll see! I’m literally weak with excitement!! Oh and 15k + wordcount is crazy btw I’m so proud of you <3

“Out of all of the memories he had ever made, Felix had pushed most of them away. He buried them so deep that sometimes, he wondered if he would even be able to recall them if he tried.” *takes a long breath* that… hit home.

Wait so Chanlix are all the way from district 2?? Damn. This concerns me so much because the life they have now in district 6 must be lowkey paradise compared to what they probably had before. I’ve been wondering if the rebels have family. But we’ll see.

“…using Jeongin's homemade "thunder bombs" 퉤 퉤 퉤! 소리꾼! (TWE TWE TWE SORRIKUN)

“Not everyone had as much to offer as Minho, who was beyond skilled in his knowledge of healing.” Now I feel bad for going off on him in my reaction vid :((((( Also ngl Hyunjin's perception is impressive. The way he's already figured mc and lix out. Could never be me💀 I'm so blind when it comes to this kind of thing.

Hold on….“Remember what we all agreed on, before you get too attached.”

HOLD ON…. “The same thought that had been replaying over and over again in his head since he saw that damn family crest around your neck.”

I HOPE THEY’RE NOT PLANNING TO KILL ME HELP– I really hope they didn't make a pact to end me💀💀✋

“So what if he wanted to know how you looked with your lips wrapped around his *[dinky-donk]* instead.” I have so many inappropriate things to say…. (This was WILD)

“Felix wasn't like Jisung, who could charm his way into convincing whatever semi-interested human being he stumbled across in god knows where to fuck him.” You sure about that bro? Let’s not forget chapter 1😃

“Terrified for this moment to end because once it did, you would be forced to come to terms with the permanence of the decision you had made tonight, and what it meant for not only your future, but the future of every innocent person that you passed by, sleeping soundly without any idea that a war had just begun.” SO WELL WRITTEN! SAURRR WELL WRITTEN MWUAH

“and then, to your surprise, he left your side without a word.” UHM???? EXCUSE YOU???

“But that wasn't the only reason.” PURRR MC GO GET THAT *[retracted for the sake of modesty]*

“…and sometimes Jisung who just likes to be wherever Minho is.” You’re so real for this BAHAH💀💀

“He took a few steps closer, inviting himself into your personal space once again.” TRYING TO KEEP IT TOGETHER RN BUT I’M SLOWLY LOSING MY SANITY

“Oh, I dont know. The fact that you can't seem to keep your tongue out of my mouth?” I LOVE MC WITH EVERY BONE IN MY BODY UGH JCKVJDNSL

“After all, every time you'd kissed, he had been the one to initiate it.” THAT’S THE THING!! TELL THE MF!

“Felix was the king of sending mixed signals and you had half a mind to call him out for it…” DO. IT.

“Felix brought his hands up to rest against the wall on either side of you, closing you in.” I don’t want to keep reading I cannot keep reading I’ll d!e if I keep reading I-

my sweet Jules🥹💕💕💕 can I first just say that your enthusiasm for this story is so much more appreciated than you will ever know. like words cannot even BEGIN to express how i felt when I saw your asks pop into my inbox yesterday, but i will do my very best. i’m finally sitting down for the evening to answer these (and have been looking forward to it for two whole days) so lets get started..(i'll make sure to comment as much as i can without revealing any spoilers🤭)

"I HOPE THEY’RE NOT PLANNING TO KILL ME HELP– I really hope they didn't make a pact to end me"

and already i'm reminding myself..NO SPOILERS

“...Hyunjin’s perceptive is impressive...”

especially when it comes to lix.🫢 and don’t feel too bad about going off on minho just yet….

“You sure about that bro? Let’s not forget chapter 1”

i’m💀 omg lix doesn’t see himself this way alright.😂😭 (however right you may be)

it means so much to me that you always take the time to mention the concept photos and i will never ever forget when you said that each chapter has a different color that you associate with it. that touched my heart more than you will ever know.🥹🤍 and the word count honestly at the rate I was going I was terrified it was going to be something like 18k lmao but thankfully we were able to condense a bit.😂

THE THUNDEROUS LYRICS.😂 ty for including this lmao i HAD to include a thunderous reference somewhere because it may or may not be my fav skz song of all time and I will fight anyone who tries to tell me it isn’t a masterpiece

"SO WELL WRITTEN! SAURRR WELL WRITTEN MWUAH"

(ily lmao) this was a last minute addition like an hour before i posted the chapter🤭 so the fact that you included it here made me giggle. and if i’m being honest our mc really has become very special to me too. i had absolutely no idea when i first started writing this story how attached i was going to become to her but i really have grown to hold a special place for her in my heart so once again thank you for this.💕💕💕

going to head on over to part 2 now....(mostly because i need to cut myself off or i will spend all night on this one ask alone because there is so much to unpack with your commentaries and you know i absolutely love you for that<33)

#otde.feedback #alex answers asks♡ #astralis is typing #ily<333 #part1/5

[solidgroundif]

Solid Ground progress log 2021-12-10

A science fiction interactive novel WIP set in a future of space travel, intersystem politics and somewhat unfortunate protagonists. Where is home, now that Earth is no longer an option? Where is home, now that you are hounded every step of the way? [More info]

[play here]

Current progress: Chapter 2 (incomplete), 36 842 words Latest update: 27 November ‘21

The most noticeable (hopefully!) change is the overhauled visual of the blog, as the previous version was bugging me to no end. If this one is blurry for anyone, please let me know.

Onto the game development things! The other half of chapter 2 has undergone some layout changes, rewiring and expansion of certain scenes. I thought one branch ended way too abruptly, and now it flows into a conversation that only writes itself at ungodly hours—maybe because it, too, takes place at night. The written piece for this next update is nearing 15k words, on track with my goal of keeping the update pieces if not equal, then at least comparable. This one will be the biggest yet (oh hey there chapter 3)

I am aiming at the dates somewhere around new year, because wouldn’t that be nice and fitting, but I will be more confident to make a definite announcement once I enter the editing stage.

Thank you for being here!

#solid ground if #interactive fiction #interactive novel #if wip #dev

[shanastoryteller]

Questions about outlines: How detailed are they? Are they the same level of detail or do they vary? How do you make your outlines? Chronologically scene by scene? Or do you come up with the scenes that call you and then come up with smaller filler scenes to fill in the gaps? Do you have outlines for each chapter? Or just for the larger general plot points? Do you try to complete the outlying before starting the fic? Or do you add to the outline as you go? Sorry if this is to many at once

lmao okay i got several asks about outlines but i’m just going to answer this one because it’s ~comprehensive~

every writing teacher i’ve ever had has hated my outlines. my friends find them incomprehensible.

if people are going to look at my answers as ways to do their own outlines, i have to say: that’s probably not a good idea

i don’t write outlines a majority of the time

i don’t write outlines to plan a story i’ve already decided to write

i write outlines primarily as a way to exorcise story ideas that i want to write but don’t want to actually commit to writing (answer prompts are another way i do this lol)

now, some things do get outlines as a way to plan and organize. survival is a talent has an outline because it’s 400k and spans six years. child king had an outline. needy’s body had an outline. 

b u t

i’m currently writing rotten work without an outline

lynchpin didn’t have an outline

hope is the thing with feathers didn’t have an outline

never grow a wishbone only had an outline for the first couple of chapters 

an invincible summer didn’t get an outline until like. chapter 4 of 6. 

i just. uh. think about what i want to happen and then hope i remember to write it down. even when i do an outline, i’ll deviate from it wildly, and not update it to reflect that, because i know what i’m doing (ha!)

so! with that in mind, let’s go! 

How detailed are they? Are they the same level of detail or do they vary?

they vary! but honestly - not very. sometimes i’ll write out a paragraph or bits of dialogue that are important to me, but most of the time it’s just broad strokes of what i want to happen, or a mechanism of how something complicated happens. like i have several paragraphs in my siat outline dealing with necromancy books, but like. two sentences on how they actually occur in the story because that’s just something i’m trusting myself to figure out when i sit down to write it.  

 How do you make your outlines? Chronologically scene by scene? Or do you come up with the scenes that call you and then come up with smaller filler scenes to fill in the gaps? 

I try to put them chronologically, although sometimes that’s a little hard (in siat i have several scenes that i know will happen, i just don’t know when). that is something i will go back and edit on my outlines, is if i’ve changed the order the something happens i’ll go back and copy and paste until my outlines is in the right order. but only if the outlines is something i’m actually using to write and the story is longer than a couple of chapters. 

because my outlines are so very not detailed, i just write down what it is that i want to write, like the reason i’m going to write this or want to write this, and figure out the rest later. i’ll fill it in later - or i won’t! because most of the time i don’t use my outline to actually write the story, and i use it more as an idea list, so if i don’t know what happens between scenes or i find it boring i just won’t write it down

like, for example, here is my “outline” for won’t even plant a garden in it’s entirety 

weep as a woman

“you weep as a woman weeps.” “and how is that?” “as if the future rests on your hips, and you must walk it forward.”

crowley and eve were friends. cain killed abel with the flaming sword, and crowley begged them to say it was with a rock instead

crowley was raphael the painter and fucked michelangelo

crowley was there the night yeshua was born, was friends with mary, helped raise yeshua?

ghosts

crowley and anathema and joan of arc

i ended up dropping most of this and crowley ended up sleeping with both eve and yeshua as the major plot points. i don’t explain stuff, really. i know what i mean so i just don’t bother to get very detailed most of the time. 

Do you have outlines for each chapter? Or just for the larger general plot points?

siat i divide up by year, and i think i did it by chapter for the last two chapters of build your wings on the way down, but otherwise it’s just one long list. i do my chapters based on words counts rather than content, so outlining by chapter doesn’t really make sense for me (siat is always around 15k a chapter, and everything else  i do these days thats multi chapter is around 8k because that’s the best, but ngawb was 5k a chapter and i think for child king it was around 11k a chapter)

Do you try to complete the outlying before starting the fic? Or do you add to the outline as you go?

I’m constantly adding as a i go! my outlines are never really “complete” they’re just abandoned. i write down what i think will help me and tend to ignore the rest. sometimes i just. talking to myself in my outlines when i’m trying to think something through. 

my outline for child king is under the cut because that’s one that’s a good mix of stuff i kept and stuff i threw out. DON’T JUDGE ME!! bad ideas don’t get written because they’re bad!! it’s part of the ~process~ 

child king

Summary: “A child king is still a king,” Deaton says softly. “A child king is still a child,” he snaps, but he knows this is an argument he’s already lost.  – Stiles is a born alpha, and after the Hale fire, things get real complicated, real fast.

Stiles’s mom is the last remaining human from a pack that was destroyed by hunters. John is the one that helps her after, so he knows everything. When they move to beacon hills she doesn’t feel the need to say anything to the hale pack, because as far as they’re concerned she’s just a human, and she doesn’t want to get involved in pack business. But then stiles is born with red eyes. The doctor is quiet and scared john and Claudia freak out, but it’s because he’s a werewolf, which is a relief to parents because they thought something was wrong with their kid. Maybe they don’t know he’s an alpha, only that he’s a wolf? Or they know and they keep it a secret on purpose

Claudia is the one to approach mrs. Hale. She tells her that her son is a born werewolf, but that she’s not interested in joining their pack. Her husband is a new deputy and they just bought a house but they’ll move if they have to. “he’ll need a pack one day. It’s safer,” she says. “if he wants to join you one day, I won’t stop him. But that’s not a choice I’m willing to make for him.” Mrs hale agrees that they can say separate as in exchange for the sheriff smoothing over some ruffled feathers no and again. They agree. Claudia to sheriff “we’re going to have to move one day. Our son is an alpha, and he’ll need to make his own pack.”

Stiles is seven the first time he snarls at his mom, eyes flashing red, and she freezes. She’s got the pack instinct, it doesn’t matter that hes her kid, hes still her alpha, so its hella awkward. John can see how this will quickly spiral out of control if they can discipline their own kid. But stiles is the one to back down first, apologizing and doing as he’s told. There are careful power structures here, and this is the beginning of differentiating between stiles the human and stiles the wolf.

When his mom gets sick, stiles offers to turn her. Hale offers to turn her. She refused for Reasons that I have to figure out. Maybe the politics of it? Wanting to protect stiles and not wanting to become part of the hale pack

The fire happens. John ships stiles the hell out of dodge, because there are hunters about. He snoops around enough to figure out it was kate argent, but theres not really anything he can do about it

Scott knows about everything, and tries to tell his mom in a really akward way that they should trust stiles if they’re ever in danger, but she just laughs it off. Except when someone breaks in and threatens her with a gun, and she manages to make a phone call, it’s not 911, not john, but stiles, and she doesn’t even know why, regrets it as soon as it happens. But then stiles shows up and breaks both of the guys, eyes glowing red, and then calls his dad and scott to take care of it, because they’re humans, so they get human punishments. Melissa is told everything.

Scott has a bad asthma attack and, and Melissa asks about the bite. Scott is itching for it. He wants it so badly. Stiles has already promised to turn them when they turn 18, and Melissa knows that. She asks if theres a reason to wait, and the answer is nah, not really. So he gets the bite. Stiles being like uh psa punishments cant include scott staying away

After hale fire and stiles gets back, he’s shocked that hey just left, and that they left peter behind. He starts visiting peter several times a week. He tells his dad that they should pay for his medical care. They have a fuckton of money because his mom inherited all the pack wealth, and john doesn’t touch it because that’s stiles’s money, that’s werewolf money. But this is a werewolf thing, so he agrees. “his pack left him dad.”

Stiles bites Erica when they’re 14. Some point in middle school stiles wises up to the Isaac thing and tells his dad he needs to arrest his dad, or stiles is going to kill him, and he’s not even a little bit joking. Stiles hears Isaac crying while going by the house? In johns squad car. Makes them pull over, then bursts into the house. John goes with it because his son’s eyes are red.

Some point after the hales leave, things start trying to move into hale territory. Some wolves? Stiles smells them, and ends up at 10 years old telling them to fuck off. This how scott finds out? He’s with scott and his dad. Deaton is facing off against something? Panics when stiles intervenes, but stiles goes wolfy and red eyes and is like. This is mine now fuck off. Looks at the hale house, and finally says, we have to take care of this. We have to. But they don’t own the house or the land or any of it. They do … something

Stiles ends up having to deal with a lot of crap real young

Stiles has scott and Isaac when peter wakes up. Stiles is there, and peter isn’t crazy because he wasn’t abandoned to die alone. Stiles says he can stay, or he can go, not trying to pressure anything. Peter chooses to become part of stiles’s pack, because his family is either dead or abandoned him. Peter ends up moving in with them as he finishes healing and to get used to being in a pack and with stiles. It’s very strange for john, but it’s a werewolf thing and he’s trying to be supportive. After a couple months, stiles tells his dad that having peter is a relief, that there’s finally someone who knows things, someone older who can support him as a werewolf. Peter acts as his second, and he finally has some degree of authority that age has lost him. Stiles has peter take care of the hale house. Peter and stiles have the conversation, where peter is like the hale land is your land now. You’re the alpha of beacon hills. He does what stiles directs him to.

Isaac is living with scott under stiles’s direction ish. But lots of Melissa. Isaac like I don’t wantto be afraid anymore, I don’t want to hurt anymore, and stiles is like. Okay. We’ll fix this. But he doesn’t bite Isaac until he goes to a shitton of therapy and has mostly sorted himself out. For isaac’s fifteenth birthday, he bites him.

Erica is spur of the moment, it’s something that all instinct and very little thought. OR they’re dating and it happesn? Erica’s parents suck. Stiles doesn’t want the balancing act of being boyfriend and alpha.

Jackson is so fucking desperate to belong to something. He nags and nags and nags and finally stiles bites him at least half to shut him up.

“dad can I talk to you about something weird and uncomfortable and a little creepy” talks about crush on Lydia, and how he’s not sure if its because he has a crush on her or if it’s bc he thinks she’ll be good for the pack. Lydia joins before Jackson, and she’s the one that pushes stiles into it. Lydia and stiles are not dating, but she’s clearly high in the hiarchey.

Boyd? Just like. Shows up. Idk.

So by the time laura and derek show up, stiles’s pack is: john, Melissa, peter, Lydia, Jackson, danny, Isaac, boyd, Erica, deaton (who’s acting as emissary but is training danny). Maybe bring in some later characters, like malia and kira and cora. Ooooh maybe the twins show up before they became alphas, still run aways and looking for something else? Stiles takes them on. Stiles finds malia early on after the fire

Peter is willing to forgive derek but he has a lot of shit with laura. Stiles agrees to let laura and derek stay and not be part of his pack, although laura insists she doesn’t need his permission. She snaps at peter to come home with them, and he looks at her like she’s insane. He says there’s no hale pack, and if there was, he’s not interested. He’s a stillinkski wolf now. Cora too maybe? Double blow. Peter owns the hale land, and he makes it clear the day stiles turns 18 he’ll be signing it over to him. Stiles is known by the surrounding packs.

Stiles has to somehow defend the surrounding area, has to make it clear he’s his and that he’s not willing to give it up. It’s valuable land. People are going to come looking for it once people figure out it’s abandoned. When deaton finds out stiles is an alpha, he goes around as an emissary to the surrounding packs. Saying that its under stiles now. He’s known to them so it goes mostly uncontested. This is when he and the sheriff have the child king conversation.

Stiles tries really, really hard to be a good alpha. That means controlling the territory, and working with other packs when members go rouge or something goes wrong. He’s thirteen the first time he goes to lend a hand in a fight, and it’s young, it’s too young, but he’s an alpha. He has to do this, to maintain the peace. And the thing is – stiles is good at this, good at not pushing, at not using his status as a crutch or an excuse, instead as a tool.

Maybe this is why no one cares for laura’s excuses. As much as laura wasn’t ready to take on the responsibility, she was an adult, if only barely. Stiles is a literal child, and in her absence shouldered it all. So even if she does technically have a claim, none of them are willing to honor it. “if you kill alpha stiles, you won’t have allies, you’ll have enemies.”

Allison and argents. Stiles brings his pack to kill kate. Gives peter the chance to do it himself, and is so very proud when he says no. but instead of letting her go free, stiles crushes her throat. “revenge would have been trapping you all in here and setting the whole thing on fire. Justice would have been making you watch as she burned alive. This was mercy, and don’t you forget it.” Scott is hella in love with Allison, but he knows this comes first. Her mom is full of hatred, but stiles more than makes it clear that he has no problem with killing her too.

Stiles sees derek soon after. They’ve already gone back and forth a lot. But he and laura weren’t there. Stiles tells him what he did. They have a ~moment~

Derek wants so very much to join stiles’s pack, but he doesn’t want to lose laura.

Something finally convinces laura to take the plunge and the stillinksi pack is one happy family

#asks #anon #writing advice

[onlythebrave-mp3]

my top 2020 fics!

okay! so i recently jumped back into this fandom after a couple of years, and started reading fic again, and i wanted to rec some of my favorites that were written this year. there’s ten on this list, and i probably could’ve done like 30 but this is already so long lol. it’s kind of in a general order, so #1 is my fav for this year, but i tried not to focus on the ranking too much because it stresses me out and i don’t need any more anxiety so it’s ended up being a pretty vague system.

1.  Our Lives, Non-Fiction (113k) by @indiaalphawhiskey 

listen. I’ve reblogged this fic like 10 times. I’ve read it twice already and it came out less than 3 weeks ago. It is an instant classic, right up there with fics like TIF or Wear it like a Crown. It has gorgeous, gorgeous writing, a thoroughly developed plot and well written character development, and such a compelling story. It is a marcel/louis fic, and I usually shy away from that kind of thing, but i’m so glad i didn’t this time because god, this one is so good. Seriously, if anyone ends up reading it, come and rant to me about it and we can cry together. Halfway through the second chapter, I created a note on my phone so I could keep track of everything I loved, and my comment on that fic is essentially a love letter to @indiaalphawhiskey. It's just so good. If you’re going to read one fic off this list, read this one. 

2. Loving You's a Bloodsport (106k) by @rosesau

okay i’m pretty sure this one made me cry like four times, which is a feat for me because i’m not usually a crier. Its soulmates with a little bit of a twist, and the plot is so well developed. Harry and louis’ feelings and their progression are written so vividly and i wish i could forget that i read it so i could go and read it again for the first time. It's also got some enemies to lovers, which is my favorite trope, and all of the side characters are beautifully developed as well. Prince!Harry, soldier!Louis, angsty soulmates. What more could you want? Oh and if you’re not convinced enough, here is a quote that fucking follows me around because its so beautiful: “Love and hate are two sharp knives balanced on a very fine line and I’ve cut myself on both because of you.” (ohmygod)

3. Mine Would Be You (114k) by @crinkle-eyed-boo

okay this one is listed at number three but it really should be 1c lol. I started this one at 11 pm like an idiot, and i don’t think i slept that night at all. It's Exes to lovers, and it's so well written. It switches between the past and the present, it's  heartbreakingly beautiful, the breakup and resolution are both so realistically written as well, and there's a great ot5 plotline too that i really loved. This one was also an instant classic- i bookmarked it before i even finished reading it. It's also got beautiful art and Louis and Harry are both artists in NYC, which I'm a slut for. Please read this one, it's so good.

okay i just realized how long this got so i’m putting the rest under the cut

4. The Murmur of Yearning (93k) by @mediawhorefics (for some reason tumblr isn’t letting me tag them??) | mediawhore on ao3 

I just finished this one, and my goddddddd it's so good. I read it in a day, and it's essentially 100k. Which isn’t that unusual for me except I did skip a class to get through it (an exam prep class. Not my finest moment but I passed. so.) There are tons of original characters that draw you in, and the whole world that is created is so fascinating and detailed. There's also no homophobia, so if you like historical fics but get triggered by that kind of thing, this is for you! Also, if you’re worried about the non-con elements, I'm sure you could message the author but also feel free to check in with me! I’ll definitely be rereading it in the near future and am totally up for discussing and crying over this fic with anyone.

5. Remember Me Fondly by @bluejeanlouis | kiddle on ao3 

ahhhhhhh this one made me sob too! It's set in both the present and the past, and I fell in love with all of the characters. This one is also heartbreaking, but I promise there’s a happy ending. Also, they way this fic deals with the fame and the homophobia and tours that harry and louis went through -even if it isn’t actually canon and is set in the 90s- is so vividly painful and realistic. It's written half through a journalist’s eyes and half through harry and louis, yet the switch in pov is so seamless and fluid and adds so much to the piece. 11/10.

6. Nothing But You On My Mind (83k) by @absoloutenonsense | nonsensedarling on ao3

okay. I started this in the middle of the night, and told myself I'd read one chapter to see if I liked it and then I would go to sleep. I'm pretty sure I read like 6. It sucks you in right from the beginning, and there's such a well developed plot. And it's so unpredictable and all of the details are so nuanced and tiny and then you look back at everything after you’ve finished it and go oh. Ohhhhhh. This one is also enemies to lovers. Are we sensing a pattern here?

7. An Invincible Summer (44k) by @twopoppies | Brooklyn_Babylon on ao3 

so as you can see this one is only 45k but i just love it so much that i’m rec’ing in anyways. It’s such a gentle, exploratory piece of literal art, and I kind of want to stay in the world that was created forever. Its set in the 1940s on a farm and i know @twopoppies has said that it started off as an excuse for barn sex, but it such a vivid story and its heartbreaking and emotional and uplifting all at once and please please please go read this. The only critique I have of it is that it's only 40k.

8. Somewhere in Between Lightning (99k) by @nauticalleeds, @shiningdistraction, and jassy117 on ao3

So this one's exes-to-lovers as well, and it's written in such a realistic way. Also i’m in love with the concept of louis on love island, despite the fact that he said he hates it. There's a sauna scene that I still think about sometimes. It's got just the right amount of angst and fluff and pining and despite the fact that it's set on a show that is usually pretty dramatic and unrealistic, this is written in a really beautiful but pragmatic way. I love it. i’ve got it  downloaded on my phone so I can read little snippets of it sometimes if I have to wait somewhere.

9. You’ve Got My Devotion (Hate You Sometimes) (95k) by @harryrainbows | lucythegoosey on ao3 

god so this one incorporates some of Fine Line into it, and wouldn’t say it's a song fic so much as it is written as a canon compliant fic that ties harry’s songs into it and its done so fucking well oh my god. Harry and Louis are exes in this one too (lol i'm sorry) and the build up of them getting together and the pining and longing is written really well.

10. At Risk, I Fold (15k) by @bearmustard | clare328 on ao3 

so i know this one is only 15k, but I put this in the list anyways. It's canon compliant, and it does mention the stunts (as stunts), but don’t let that deter you. Harry and Louis are written almost exactly as i’ve imagined them, and this one is such a heartbreaking look into the resilience and love and bravery that they have. It made me cry despite the fact that it’s not really a glum fic. The only reason it is last on the list is because it's shorter and i was mostly intending this to be a long fic rec. The love that they have for each other really shines through in this one, and it’s super gentle and soft and sad and happy all at once and just please go read it.

#my fic rec #hoping this doesnt flop lol #if people like this i might do more #we'll see lmao #also #if you ask me who tops/bottoms #in any of these fics #you owe me $10 #reading fics specifically for who takes it up the arse is weird <3

[liesyousoldme]

Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier Fic Masterlist

Completed:

Richie Tozier: Come Out & Play (Oneshot, Rated M)

Richie Tozier: Come Out & Play, a new Netflix special! Comedian Richie Tozier is back after a very public mental breakdown. And he's ready to (over)share. (5.7k words)

baby i didn't know, but i'm glad that you found me (Series, Rated E)

1. i've been waiting

Eddie loses touch with the Losers after he's forced to move away from Derry. After 5 years, he finds a way to see his friends again - including Richie, who is just as beautiful as he remembers. (15k words)

2. i'm seeing the most in your eyes

Eddie comes out to his mom, visits with an old friend, applies for a job, and finds his home. (14k words)

we'll get where we're going even if we're late (Oneshot, Rated E)

Richie sees a lot happen in the deadlights. Eddie has to keep reminding him what's real. (7.8k words)

the time and space between us (Oneshot, Rated T)

For Eddie Kaspbrak, dying was just like falling asleep. And then he woke up. (10.7k words)

The Power of Sexting (Oneshot, Rated E)

Richie accidentally sends Eddie a shirtless picture. Things escalate from there. Or, Richie and Eddie play Gay Chicken: Sexting Edition. (4k words)

i love you, ain't that the worst thing you ever heard? (Chaptered, Rated E)

They'd been so close to everything they ever wanted when they were young. And then they forgot. Now that they're back in Derry, they're remembering. Or, a retelling of Chapter 2, with a happier ending. (36k words)

(Continued Under The Cut)

That's where you'll find me (Series, Rated T)

1. In The Wrong Place Trying to Make it Right

"Richie wasn’t sure how the fuck he’d managed to forget Eddie Kaspbrak. Like, now that he’s got Eddie’s hand in his (his remaining hand, Richie’s traitorous mind reminds him cruelly, and he avoids looking at the hospital gown lying flat against the bed where an arm should be) he remembers everything. " Or, 27 years later, Eddie makes it out of the sewers alive. (5.5k words)

2. Got My Heart Set On Anywhere But Here

“Let’s make it a rule to never talk about It again,” Richie suggested, and Eddie readily agreed. “Let’s focus on the future instead of the past.” “Like visiting New York next week?” Or, 27 years later, Eddie gets divorced. (4.9k words)

3. I'll Be What You Need (Goodbye, Apathy)

"Helping you through nightmares of me dying is the least I can do after you literally nursed me back to health for six weeks," Eddie responded with a tired smile. Richie didn't say anything, just let his head fall back into his pillow, pulling Eddie with him. Eddie sighed as he nestled into Richie's bed. Richie felt his heart beat faster the way it always did when Eddie was in his bedroom, in his bed, in his arms. The small smile that had formed on his face fell, however, when Eddie spoke again. "I think you should see a therapist." Or, 27 years later, Richie goes to therapy. (4.6k words)

Block the Noise, (Oneshot, Rated T)

Richie has a conversation with his newly ex-manager and Eddie doesn't like what he (over)hears. (1.5k words)

i've never seen nobody shine the way you do (Oneshot, Rated T)

It was like this: Richie had thought that moving to New York together, getting an apartment and going to school, would be good for both of them. And it was! But! While Richie had thought that he had reached his limit, his max capacity, the top level of Loving Eddie Kaspbrak, he was now being proven dead wrong. Perhaps there was no cap to how much a man could love Eddie Kaspbrak, and wouldn’t that have been nice to know before he’d gone and moved in with the little asshole. Because it was one thing to see each other every day at school, and to have sleepovers on Friday nights, and to spend their afternoons together doing fuck-all, but it was another to see Eddie fresh from the shower, his wavy hair dripping water droplets onto his bare shoulders, his skin flushed from the heat. It was another to wake up and eat breakfast together every morning and dinner together almost every night. Especially since Eddie had decided to start looking like he did now, all bright-eyed and ready to take on the world. So, it was like this: living with Eddie had him absolutely fucked. (2.6k words)

just hold me close (Oneshot, Rated T)

It's Richie Tozier's birthday, and Eddie Kaspbrak would do anything to make him happy. (1.7k words)

say anything (Oneshot, Rated T)

There were so many things he wanted to say to Richie, all the time, but he just couldn’t. He couldn’t put himself out there, couldn’t risk ruining this friendship. But it was getting harder and harder with every day that passed to keep his mouth shut. (4.6k words)

you heard them say it (Oneshot, Rated T)

Even after she's 6 feet in the ground, Sonia Kaspbrak still lives in Eddie Kaspbrak's head. (2.5k words)

Misinterpretation (Oneshot, Rated T)

A prompt from Tumblr: "I'm only here to establish an alibi." (1.7k words)

let's find the place where happiness begins (Oneshot, Rated T)

After Eddie survives Neibolt, he and Richie have a few things to discuss. (3k words)

make it feel like the first time (Oneshot, Rated T)

“Eddie,” Beverly said, grinning. Eddie felt his heartrate speed up and focused on taking a deep breath. He was 17, he hadn’t carried around his aspirator in ages, and he wasn’t about to have a panic attack in front of his friends over a stupid party game. “Truth or dare?” Eddie gets asked about his first kiss. Too bad he lied about the fact that he's had one. (2.7k words)

keep you sheltered (Oneshot, Rated T)

Richie has a fear of thunderstorms. (1.6k words)

so into you (Oneshot, Rated T)

Richie is tired of Eddie watching from a distance. (1.7k words)

Like Kisses on the Necks of Best Friends (Oneshot, Rated T)

He’d wanted to kiss Richie for ages, and suddenly, on their walk home from school Richie just fuckin’… plants one on him, blushes beet red, uses a Voice to say “Good on ya, mate,” which didn’t even make fucking sense, and then takes off running in the opposite direction. Eddie had stood there, gaping, until Richie was an entire block away. Or, Eddie has to sit on Richie's lap for a car ride two days after Richie kissed him and ran away. It's totally not awkward at all. (2.2k words)

now my bedsheets smell like you (Oneshot, Rated T)

Richie and Eddie can't sleep without each other. (3k words)

You're only brave in the moonlight (Oneshot, Rated T)

A homophobic church sign makes Eddie cry, and Richie decides to do something about it. (2.3k words)

WIP:

once in twenty lifetimes (Twoshot, Rated T)

Eddie Kaspbrak had to say goodbye to his best friend at age 13. He wished desperately to live in some other universe where Richie never had to leave. He can imagine them. Happy together in other, better worlds. 27 years later, Eddie Kaspbrak gets to say hello to his best friend at age 40. Maybe he decides this universe was worth the wait.

isn't it just so pretty to think... (Series, Rated T)

...all along there was some invisible string tying you to me First kisses at every age in every universe.

a supercut of us (Drabble Collection, Rated T-E)

#reddie #reddie fic #my fic #my fics #redid my masterlist #updated with latest fics