#like? his father is like 'i thought it was normal i thought it was normal'

[jd-loves-fiction]

Coming back to you with another request cuz I loved your previous work

Boothill, Welt, Ratio, Jing Yuan and Gallagher with the same platonic teen reader premise but reader calls them ,,Dad" on accident and they themselves don't even notice it because it comes so naturally to them

🌑so glad you liked it🥺🥺also the dad's of all time yes yes!! Also my internet has been fucked lately that's why uploads are slow sowy 🥺

✦ 𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐥 ✦

If you look at his lore, he was actually a dad (😭 my Shayla) so yeah big chance he won't notice at all

Because of the trauma associated with his family in general, he'll notice it eventually and be a bit conflicted

On one hand, he's absolutely delighted at the fact that despite being almost entirely made of metal, you are still able to find such fundamentally human comfort within him

And on the other hand, he has a hard time accepting that the man he was before didn't actually die along with most of his body

He won't ever correct you tho, at the end of the day he's just grateful that he's still able to make young folk feel safe around him

Reminds him that he's still human🥺

✦ 𝐖𝐞𝐥𝐭 ✦

Did you see the way he basically adopted Sunday the moment he stepped on the express?? Yeah, that's dad right there

He basically adopts every kid (as in, anyone younger than him) that steps aboard the express, so i feel like someone else might've already called him before and he just brushed it off

Same with you, though in his heart he's over the moon

All he wants in life is to make everyone around him feel safe and loved, so to know that you of all people seem to think of him in such a way really warms his heart

Though he'll never point it out in fear of making you embarrassed

He's overjoyed!! But internally :)

✦ 𝐃𝐫. 𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨 ✦

Truly baffled, at first

He's aware of his reputation and he doesn't mind it but he never expected someone to him that way

Though he's (not so) secretly very pleased

At his core, he's a teacher and that's what he loves to do - spread knowledge to all who seek it

And I'm sorry for reminding you of this but most of us have called our teacher mom/dad before so...

There's a slight chance it's happened before... also a slight chance he very dryly corrected them - "last time i checked i have no children" 🙄

Might do the same to you unless he's in one of his moods, writing down information or just lost in thought - then he'll probably just wave you away wordlessly

I feel like he understands on a behavioral level why you did it and because of it, wont comment on it or bring it up again. It's just something people do sometimes, nothing weird about it

The most neutral out of all of them but will make a mental note about how it probably means you trust him at least a little

When he lets himself be selfish and overthink it, it does warm his heart but you'll never know

✦ 𝐉𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐘𝐮𝐚𝐧 ✦

Actual father to Yanqing YOU CANT CHANGE MY MIND!!

Ooooh he's tearing his hair out trying not to tease you about it

He knows that if he does you'll crawl back in your shell again and thats tHEEE last thing he wants in life, really

It's easy to feel comfortable around him, i feel. He's just a big lazy cat - pretty independent and chill

He's good at just being there when you need him there as well as talking your ear off as a distraction - peak comfort

Definately called Jingliu 'mom' as a kid, come on

And Yanqing did the same with him

So it doesnt surprise him much since he understands its a pretty normal thing but GOOOOD he wants to acknowledge it so BAAADD

HE WANTS TO MAKE IT SILLY BUT NOOOOO 😭

He's an adult now (a very old one at that) so he understands that now is NOT the time

Will keep thinking back on it fondly tho :))

✦ 𝐆𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐠𝐡𝐞𝐫 ✦

Oh oh my... he gives so much deadbeat dad I'm getting nostalgic IM KIDDING

Anyway, as a bartender, i feel like thats happened to him before

People say weird shit when they're drunk so it's very likely someone's called him dad before

Though that feels very different to him

When people do that when drunk it doesn't usually mean anything - he must just remind them of their father (for good or bad) so he doesn't take it too seriously

But you? Oh he's taking it seriously

Ego? Inflated to hell and back

He's being extra sweet and caring with you

Making sure you eat and rest, etc

Gotta live up to his reputation 😉

The dad who stepped up fr

Might tease you about it, but if you have an adverse reaction he'll stop immediately

Very touched that you think of him that way even subconsciously and will try to make sure he doesn't disappoint :)

[slytherin-pen]

Kindling the Flame

pairing: Eris x reader

word count: 1.3k

warnings: pregnancy, vomiting, Eris is scared but nothing happens

all acotar credits belong to sjm

a/n: yay! i’m back from the dead. not super proud of this one but it was one of my few wips that were close to being finished when i decided to get back to it. i’d been going through some adhd paralysis and health issues but hopefully i’ll be back to normal soon.

Eris Vanserra paced the length of the room, his boots whispering across the hardwood floor of your shared bedroom. His face, usually calm and composed, was marred with worry. His gaze darted back to you, lying on the bed with a damp cloth pressed to your forehead, your skin pale and clammy.

"Love," he murmured, his voice a soft, worried rumble as he knelt beside the bed. "You need to eat something. Just a little. Please."

You shook your head, the mere thought of food sending another wave of nausea rolling through you. "I can't, Eris," you whispered, voice strained and tired. "Everything makes me sick."

Eris’ jaw clenched, his mate instincts screaming at him to protect you, to make this better somehow. Yet, he was helpless against this invisible force causing you so much distress. He brushed a few stray sweat-soaked strands of hair from your face, his fingers gentle as they lingered on your skin.

He had never felt this powerless. His magic could command flames, and his influence could sway an entire Court, but he could do nothing against this. This cruel twist of fate that left you so ill, so fragile. A dream of having a child together had become his current nightmare. The little fireling was sucking everything out of you, and as the days passed it was getting harder to get anything in you. A mix of wonder and dread filled his chest. He was thrilled to become a father, to hold your baby in his arms, but this? Watching you suffer, unable to do a thing? Watch as the life drains out of you, as your cheeks hollow out, and the joy that once filled your eyes is replaced with fear? It was unbearable.

He tried to reflect on his mother’s pregnancies. So many centuries ago now but he could remember them briefly. Perses, and the twins, August and Aethon, had been easy for Phoebe in the beginning. She claimed to have not had many symptoms until the third trimester. With Killian and Macareus she had some slight hiccups, nausea in the beginning being one of them. He nearly thought of her pregnancy with Lucien and quickly slammed the door of his mind on that thought. It was the one pregnancy Phoebe had struggled with during labor, thanks to his cruel father. His mate did not need those stress-inducing memories, she needed to eat.

"I’ll try some tea," he suggested, forcing calm into his voice even as his heart raced. "Ginger, maybe. It might help settle your stomach and then we’ll go from there."

You nodded weakly, knowing he was trying his best. "Alright," you murmured, and he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead before leaving the room.

In the kitchen, Eris moved swiftly, hands shaking slightly as he prepared the tea. He felt a rush of frustration that he couldn't simply snap his fingers and make you better. He wanted to burn away your sickness with his flames, to destroy whatever was causing you pain, but he couldn't. This was your pregnancy, your body nurturing the tiny life within you. He had to be patient. You’ve barely entered the second trimester and it already felt like he was close to losing you. After witnessing the birth of his six siblings he knew this was supposed to be the least dangerous part. Sure, not being able to eat certain foods anymore and lighting cinnamon candles all around the house to block out the less-than-savory scents was expected. He had hoped you would get some relief by the second semester as his mother had, calling it the eye of the storm, but your condition has only worsened over time. What was once a short list of foods to avoid has become endless, your nights are sleepless as you toss and turn with insomnia, and the way your emotions changed throughout the day reminded him of the money scale sitting on the desk in his office.

Returning to the bedroom, he found you curled up tighter on the bed, your face pinched with discomfort. "Here, my flame," he coaxed, sitting beside you and helping you sit up, holding the teacup to your lips. "Try a few sips."

You took a tentative sip, grimacing slightly at the taste but managing to swallow. Eris’ hand moved to the small of your back, rubbing soothing circles there. "That’s it," he encouraged softly. "A little more."

The tea felt warm going down, and you managed a few more sips before the nausea surged again. Eris' face fell as he saw you press a hand to your mouth, trying to fight it down.

“I’m sorry,” you gasped, feeling tears prick at your eyes as you leaned over the side of the bed. He was immediately there, grabbing the small trashcan on the floor and holding your hair back, murmuring reassurances even as he felt a stab of panic shoot through him.

"Don't apologize, love," he murmured once the wave had passed, wiping your mouth gently with a damp cloth. "None of this is your fault."

"But I know it worries you," you whispered, voice small and fragile. "I don’t want to cause you pain."

Eris’ chest tightened. “You don’t. Not in the way you think,” he confessed, his voice breaking slightly. “I just… I hate that I can’t make it better. That I can’t take this from you. I’m so afraid of losing you, and I don’t like seeing you suffer.”

You reached out, your hand finding his, squeezing it with whatever strength you had left. "I’m okay," you assured him, even though you both knew it wasn’t entirely true. "It’s worth it. For our baby."

His heart softened at your words, his free hand moving to your stomach, resting there gently. “Our baby,” he echoed, a faint smile on his lips. “I know. And I’m excited, love, more than you know. But if anything happened to you…” He trailed off, the fear evident in his amber eyes.

You leaned into his touch, letting his warmth seep into your skin. “Nothing will happen,” you whispered, but your voice was tired and not as confident as you’d hoped. “I’ll be okay. We’ll be okay.”

Eris nodded, though the tightness in his chest didn’t fully ease. He pulled you closer, cradling you against him as if he could shield you from the sickness. “Let me try making some broth,” he offered, his voice determined. “Just a little. It’s light, and it might stay down.”

You nodded, too tired to argue, and he pressed a kiss to your temple before reluctantly pulling away again. He busied himself in the kitchen, channeling his worry into careful preparation, pouring all his love and care into the simple task.

When he returned with the steaming bowl, he sat on the edge of the bed, lifting the spoon to your lips. “Just a sip,” he encouraged gently. “For me?”

You smiled faintly and took the spoonful, managing to swallow. The warmth of the broth spread through you, soothing the ache in your empty stomach, and you nodded for another. Eris’ heart lifted slightly, his hope rekindled.

“Good,” he praised softly, his fingers brushing your cheek. “Take your time.”

You took a few more sips before the nausea started to build again, and Eris quickly set the bowl aside, ready to help you if needed. But this time, the sickness didn’t overwhelm you, and you managed to take a deep breath, leaning back against the pillows.

“See?” he murmured, a small, proud smile on his lips. “You’re stronger than this, my love. We’ll get through it together.”

You nodded, your eyes fluttering closed, exhaustion pulling at you. “I know,” you whispered. “Thank you, Eris. For everything.”

He pressed another kiss to your forehead, his heart swelling with love for you. “Always,” he promised softly. “I’ll always be here.”

And as you drifted off to sleep, he stayed by your side, his hand resting protectively over your stomach, his heart full of determination. Whatever it took, he would see you through this. You were his mate, his love, and nothing would stand in his way.

[siri-ike]

The spray was never supposed to last long. So when Tim came home and heard Dick say he'd sat there with "Bruce" for three full hours, he was concerned, to say the least. He can't still be in his fantasy. He can't still be this docile. Real Bruce wouldn't even be this docile, let alone "elementary school arson record" Bruce. But he just sat there. Staring at anyone who came into view.

His grip was tight, much tighter than he could pull off when he was high. And no way would Nightwing ever ask him to stop. He'd hold him forever if not for all their pesky human needs like eating and sleeping. Speaking of sleep, shouldn't he be getting tired? "Hey, Bruce?" Dick whispered so as not to disturb too much. "Are you tired? Do you want to go to bed?"

Bruce shook his head. "I fell asleep, during Gray Ghost." His voice was calm and low (for a child), and he didn't even try to un-bury himself from his dad's hold.

This is big. He slept and didn't lose his memory. Dick waved Tim over.

"What?" Tim spoke at a normal volume.

"He didn't forget dinner." Dick kept whispering, but his excitement shined through. "He woke up at 4:43 pm yesterday, we had dinner at 9, afterward, he got to watch some Gray Ghost tapes and fell asleep. At 4:43 am he woke up again because Phantom was destabilizing as usual, but when Zatanna asked him what happened, he told her about dinner. He Remembered Dinner." Dick really emphasized the last part.

"That's great," Tim brought his tone down to match Dicks. "So then he's stable?"

"Stable? Dude, no. He's aging backwards."

"Oh, right. I forget people are supposed to get older." Tim said, fully serious. "I'll run some tests, and we should keep monitoring him."

"How about we run tests, and you go to your room and take some melatonin." Dick suggested. Let's see if he knows how aging works in the morning afternoon.

One hour later, at 9, Bruce was willing to eat. Dick hadn't left his side and could attest that he was calm non combative and ate like he hadn't seen food in a month. "Please don't be Stockholm syndrome, please don't be Stockholm syndrome," He repeated in his head. "It's too fast to be Stockholm, I can't let him leave. He thought he was dead a few hours ago. Wait, did he ever say he didn't?"

"Hey B? I, uh, Bruce?" He addresses the boy across the dining table.

"Yes, Father?"

Crap, crap, crap. Other age appropriate swears. Dick doesn't look anything like Thomas. If anything, he looks like Martha. No, wait, he looks like his own parents. Unless.

"Bruce, what is my name?" Nightwing fiddled with the mask in his hands.

Bruce just sat there, confused. Like he didn't expect him to have a name at all. "You're... you're, uh," He looked shamefully down at his food. "I don't know." His voice quivered.

"It's ok, Bruce. My name's Richard Grayson, Dick for short." He reassured. "Just one more question, alright?" He gave Bruce time to consider and nod. Nightwing put his arms down on the table and looked Bruce in the eyes. "Are you alive?"

"No~" his guilty expression instantly turned to utter glee.

Nightwing thought for a moment. "Are you dead?"

"No." He giggled.

"Then what are you?" So much for "one more question."

"I am not bound by life or death."

Dick didn't recognize the language, but it sounded otherworldly, almost like a mix of TRAP music and demonic incantations with a hint of backwards English. He also needed a minute.

"Alfred?" Dick asked head in his hands, slumped over in a chair in a corner of the kitchen. "I'm starting to think my son might be the devil."

"Master Dick, all parents think their children are devils from time to time. I certainly thought it with each of you, and look how you turned out... raising more hellspawn." He joked, kind of.

Dick couldn't help but chuckle a bit. "I think we need to move up our meeting with Harley." He sat up, hands on his knees as if to brace himself. "Bring her here, rather than go to her."

"Isn't she in Arkham right now?"

Nightwing pulls out his phone. "I'll figure something out." He scrolls through his contacts and finds two Jim Gordans. He picks the one with the incognito picture.

"Commissioner Jim Gordon." Jim answers.

"Hi, this is Nightwing. Remember that boy, a month ago, who claimed to be a clone of Batman?"

"Yes, he showed up right before all of you dropped out of the world. Did he survive?"

"Yeah, he's... something. Look, I need Harley Quinn."

"Harley Quinn, the clown or Harley Quinn, the doctor?"

"The doctor."

"You know there are plenty of psychologists in Gotham."

"And none can handle these sorts of things without losing their minds, too."

-Silence-

"Alright, I'll see what I can do."

*click*

"Why do you need a doctor?" Bruce had innocently popped in, probably to talk to Alfred.

"Hey, buddy." It was impressive, really. Not many people can sneak up on him, especially not so casually. "Harley's a friend of ours. She's just going to talk to you. Think you could do that for me?" Dick has raised more than enough titans to know you can't force kids that age to do anything.

"M-hm." Bruce turned toward Alfred. "I had water and sleep and darkness, but my head still hurts. Can I have something?"

"Oh, dear." Alfred put his hand on Bruce's forehead. "Well, your temperature is normal. Where does it hurt?"

"Here, and here." He he presses on his forehead, then to the sides of his head just above the ears.

"I'm gonna give you one more Ibuprofen, and we'll do some tests after that." Alfred put the medicine box back on its top cabinet shelf. "How does that sound?"

"Good," Bruce placed the pill in the back of his throat with his hands like he was auditioning for a horror movie, then he downed the water like a normal person. He was about to head out but stopped. "Alfred? Can I have candy?" He pointed at the fancy glass bowl full of chocolate covered salt caramels.

"Last I checked, sugar does not remedy headaches... you can have one." Alfred didn't even look at the puppy eyes. He is not willing to put up a fight for something so small.

Bruce delightfully lifted the lid and, careful not to touch more than one, picked out a treat. He likes the ones with blue marzipan.

Nightwing watched him leave the room without a care in the world. "I think you just got played."

"The headache is real. And I believe more than just swelling. He may no longer be throwing up and seizing. But he's been asleep for almost a month, only waking up for an hour or less, always at the same time. Then there's the more recent confusion in identity. Those are not psychological symptoms. They are neurological." Alfred gave his most serious "listen very closely, I'm not even going to buffer this with sarcasm" face.

"I'll schedule a brain scan."

Clone Danny long post

The footprints lead Alfred out of the room and to the right but quickly dried up on the short hair carpet.

Alfred checked every room to the right of Danny's. He had to have left the family wing. 40 minutes of searching later, Alfred was about to go down yet another hallway when he heard faint music and metal clanging. He walked closer to the sound until he could make out some words.

🎶I- can hear the sound of violins🎶

🎶long before- it begins🎶

The gym. Someone is at the gym. He told Dick to relax. This is the opposite of relaxing. He stops for a moment outside the door to gather himself. People listen to empathy more than anger. When Alfred pushed the door open and looked down at the workout area, he didn't see a disobedient clown. No. Instead, he was forcibly dragged back to 1989, staring at a 13 year old Bruce doing chest presses. He always looked the most at ease when he was at the gym. The rest of the time, he would be looking for his parents' killer or discovering seacret organizations. Alfred used to cherish the time Bruce spent at the gym because he knew it was the closest he could get to calm. Shortly, Danny put down his 3 kg weights and addressed Alfred.

"Morning, Alfred. Breakfast already? Thought I had more time." He sounded like Bruce, more than just his voice. Danny had his own way of talking, but this was all Bruce.

"Young Master," best not to object to his perceived reality, whatever that may be. "It's almost seven in the afternoon, not morning." The sun would have spoiled that for him anyway. "And dinner will be ready in two hours."

"Oh, ok. I'll be there at nine then." Danny simply went over to the next station in his routine. Right as he sat down on the floor, something seemed to dawn on him. "Alfred? Did something happen to me?" He asked innocently.

Alfred remained frozen, staring at the young boy. "What would give you that idea?"

"I woke up in a different room than usual, I had to switch down all my weights, and the files in my father's office have been moved. And then you came in looking like you've seen a ghost." Ever the detective.

"Nothing gets past you. I'm afraid you had a rather bad fever and spent a few days in bed. I would like to examine your health, but it can wait. Let's say, eight-thirty? Before dinner?"

"Kitchen at eight-thirty, got it."

Alfred left the room and braced himself on the door. He thinks he's Bruce. He probably thinks it's the 80s or 90s, too. It's a good thing most everyone is out hunting down clues and/or committing extreme acts of violence.

Danny had changed into an all black suit (bowtie and kerchief included) before coming to the kitchen at 8:27. Hmm, he does like to be punctual. His temperature and heart rate were normal, for once he didn't have bags under his eyes, which responded in time to light. But, he was definitely younger than he was when he arrived. Dick wasn't imagining that.

"Can you tell me your name, age, and today's date?"

"Bruce Thomas Wayne, 12, almost 13, today is November, uh," He struggled a bit. "17th? Maybe a bit later, 1988." He avoided eye contact. "Just so we're clear, I wouldn't have known today's date even if I hadn't been sick."

Alfred smiled a little, remembering how much he used to care about getting good scores on everything. "I'll be sure to include that in the report." He retorted sarcastically, earning a small grin back. "Now go wash up, dinners almost ready."

As per routine, Alfred started by bringing out the helthiest dishes. They all knew it was a trick to get them to eat vegetables, but no one was ever willing to wait. Danny was so hungry, even the brussel sprouts were appetizing. Now if Alfred could just stop staring at him and actually put the container on the table.

"Alfred?"

"W, what?"

"Are you OK?"

Danny had combed his hair when he'd asked him to wash up. This was Bruce. This was the boy Alfred raised. The one who had fallen asleep in his arms every night for months because he refused to be alone in the dark. The one who used to "forget" to tell Alfred about the handfuls of peanut butter in his pockets, ruining thousand dollars dress pants on six different occasions. The one who wanted to keep street cats knowing full well he was allergic.

"Do you need a day off? Or maybe a week?"

"What? No. I'm alright master Bruce. Just, uhm, glad to see you have your appetite back. That's all." Keep it together now. He set down a steaming glass dish full of baked carrots, sweet potatoes, bell peppers, onions, brussel sprouts, broccoli, cauliflower, and mushrooms.

Danny took as big a serving as he could fit (vegetables can only go in the top right on his plate), making sure not to let the butter run too much. The next dish was steamed turnip. Crap. Another vegetable. Can't mix them. Can't put it somewhere else. The only option is to finish the baked vegetables fast.

By the time he finished his quarter of a turnip, six more dishes had already shown up. How many people does Alfred think live here?

At 21:11 Dick walked into the dining room. Dressed in a plain shirt and pants. The two boys looked like they were going to entirely different events.

"Hello." Danny invited. "I'm sorry, have we met?"

"This gentleman is detective Richard Grayson." Alfred interjected. "Master Dick, would you care to join us for dinner?"

"Oh, where are my manners? Here, have a seat. There's plenty of food."

The dinner after that was awkward, but nice. It's good to have some company once in a while. Ever since his parents died, it's just been him and Alfred.

He did wake up late in the afternoon, so it shouldn't be such a surprise that he got to stay up and watch his gray ghost VHS tapes way later than his usual bedtime. Only interrupted occasionally by Alfred, making sure he's keeping all that food down. He had to have been really sick. He doesn't even remember throwing up recently.

He must have dosed off at some point because he was awoken abruptly at some horrid hour of the night by an ear pierceing scream. He hurried to its sorce in the family wing where he saw what looked like another Bruce, except this one had white hair and wore a black onesie. He appeared to be melting into a glowing green sludge. Bruce knelt down and grabbed the boy, who stopped screaming. Opting to bury his face in Bruce's chest instead.

Alfred came just as the gruesome scene was over. 4:50 am, same place, same time, every night. Alfred had hoped something had improved when the screaming stopped early. But rather than the typical gorey mess, there was Danny, inconsolable and covered in slime.

"Wh, wh, ah?" Who was that? What was that?? Why was that???

"Master da- Bruce." At lightning speed, Alfred was on his knees and holding Danny. "Come on, you don't have to be here." He tried to lift him up, but Danny resisted.

"...Why do you have the carpet cleaner?" He accused. "Did you know this would happen?"

[drarryspecificrecs]

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[cherryeclipses]

the little things

Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: The moments between hunts where you and Dean can pretend to be a normal couple

Fluff, implied smut, no gender mentioned, Dean is a softie, 1 use of Y/N (also im horrible at writing smut sorry babes), wrote in like 30 minutes so not my best work...

Word count: 1.3k

⛧⃝

Dating Dean was tough at times, he was stubborn, self-sabotaging, and put everyone else's needs before his own. But the most difficult part was the fact that you were both hunters. It left barely any time to connect and do normal couple 'things.' Occasionally there were rare moments in between hunts where you could relax and even have a little fun, these were the moments you two cherished, even if it was just five minutes.

⛧⃝

You sighed, searching your pockets for the motel room key, you had just a finished a week long hunt solo taking out a small nest of vampires. As you pushed the door open, longing for a hot shower and bed to sleep in, you froze, whipping your shotgun out of your waistband. "Woah, woah, it's just me sweetheart." A familiar voice drawled. You flipped the light switch, "Dean?!" "You expecting any other men?" He chuckled as you wrapped your arms tightly around his waist, pulling him into a tight hug. You hadn't seen your boyfriend in nearly 2 months. He had been off with Sam, searching for their father and you had been busy with your own hunts. "What are you doing here?" You pulled away to get a good look at his handsome face. "I came for the scenery." He joked, "I came to see you idiot, what else?" "Did you find John?" You questioned. "Ah, it's a long story. A lot has happened since I spoke to you last week. But don't worry about that, I don't want to talk about work tonight." He leant down to kiss your lips, you melted into him, he smelt divine like old leather and vanilla. Your hands travelled up his chest, holding onto the man as if he was about to disappear. Nothing would be able to pull the two of you off each other, except the low growl of your stomach. Dean pulled away from you and your cheeks blushed. "C'mon let's order some food then we can get to the fun stuff." Dean laughed.

The two of you were sprawled out on the old motel couch, fast food wrappers littered the coffee table. You glanced over at your boyfriend, his eyes glued to the TV. It felt so nice to have him back, as much as you were glad him and Sam were getting along again you selfishly missed seeing him everyday. "Take a picture, it'll last longer." Dean said, breaking you out of your thoughts. "Maybe I will." You poked your tongue out at the boy. "I really have missed you Dean, thank you for surprising me." "It's nothing, honestly I couldn't stand being away from you a minute longer. Was driving Sammy crazy." You giggled, leaning your head on his muscular shoulder, your eyes suddenly feeling heavy, you had almost forgotten how exhausted you were. Deans hands playing with your hair absentmindedly, sending you to sleep.

⛧⃝

The sound of Dean softly humming ACDC woke you, you sat up straight in your seat, your neck was stiff from leaning against the side of the impala for hours. You had been driving for what felt like forever, leaving before the sun had set, it was now pitch black outside, you looked out the window to see nothing but bright stars in the sky and no other cars on the road ahead. "Hey there sleepy head." Dean teased. "Hey yourself." You looked behind you to see Sam passed out in the backseat, snoring softly. "How far away are we?" "Almost there, another hour maybe." Dean mused, taking your hand in his, running his thumb gently over your knuckles. As much as you hated long drives it was nice to have some downtime with Dean. You leaned forward to turn up the music slightly before placing a kiss on Dean's cheek, his stubble prickling your lips. You softly moved your way down his cheek, placing gentle kisses along his neck. Dean moaned quietly, tilting his head so you had better access to his neck, eyes still focused on the road. You took the encouragement and travelled further down his neck, lingering on his collarbone. He shuffled in his seat, you could tell he was getting worked up but trying to play it cool. You smiled and pulled away, returning to your spot in the passenger seat. "Can you guys not wait until we get to the motel?" Sam groaned from the backseat. You laughed, feeling sorry for the poor guy "sorry Sam. hands off from now on, I promise." You held your hands up in surrender. Dean didn't say a word but put his foot down on the accelerator, determined to get there as fast as his Baby would let him.

⛧⃝

"Hey Bobby, where's the sugar?" You called from the kitchen. "Second cupboard from the left." He answered from the doorway. You had spent the weekend at Bobby's, helping him with research for Sam and Dean. You sang quietly to yourself as you zipped round Bobby's kitchen, the boys were on their way back and you wanted them to come home to some real food. It was also a distraction for you from all the reading and worrying you had done all weekend long. "Would you let me help you?" Bobby asked. "Nope. There's more beer in the fridge, so go sit down, relax, and don't read any more damn lore books." The old man chuckled, nodding in response and leaving you to do what you needed.

"Honey, we're home!" Dean called out as he and Sam walked through the front door. "Hey Bobby, where's Y/N?" "In the kitchen." Bobby answered the eldest Winchester brother. "What are you -" Dean was cut off when he saw the spread on the dining table. The small table was full with all kinds of food, steak, vegetables, salad, fries, you name it, it was probably there. "Hey - woah did you spend all weekend cooking?" Sam asked as he walked in to the kitchen, eyes wide. "I think I'm gonna marry you" Dean faked a tear as he pulled you in for a kiss. "I thought you deserved a nice meal for once and honestly I was sick of reading! So sit, all of you and dig in. Please." As the men settled in for dinner the oven timer dinged. "More food?" Bobby asked, surprised. "Oh um, it's actually a surprise for Dean." You said, standing up to attend to the oven. You returned holding a steaming hot cherry pie. Dean's jaw dropped, "Have I ever told you how much I love you." He asked stunned. "Maybe once or twice." You shrugged.

⛧⃝

You awoke to sunlight streaming through the torn motel curtains, you rolled over, noticing Dean wasn't beside you. You stretched out across the mattress, contemplating going back to sleep until you heard the sound of the shower running. Sleepily you made your way to the bathroom, tossing your oversized shirt (the t shirt Dean wore yesterday) across the room and removing your pyjama pants once you were in the bathroom. You pulled back the shower curtain to reveal your boyfriend, taking a moment to revel in his beauty, his tan skin glistening with water droplets. "Good morning." He said with a goofy grin. "Morning" You replied, stepping into the shower and placing a soft kiss to his lips. Your hands found their way to his hair, gently massaging his scalp Dean hummed with pleasure, his hands travelling down your damp body, squeezing your hips and bringing you closer towards him. You slowly pulled away leaning your head back to allow the water to run through your hair. Dean took the opportunity to sprinkle kisses along your neck and down your chest. You let a moan escape your throat, he pushes you against the shower wall continuing to kiss you all the way down your body, lingering where you were most sensitive before standing up to meet your gaze. "I should wake up early more often." He mumbles, his voice deep, sending shivers down your spine. "I think we should make a habit of this." You say with a grin. Dean's hands find their way to your waist again "I agree." he says with a kiss before spinning you around to face the wall.

⛧⃝

[innerempire]

{Father-in-law Tony that thinks Peter is so much more deserving of a better husband than his own son)

Tony doesn’t know how his son managed to bag a goddamn gem like Peter Parker. Hell, he loves his son, but Tony was always of the thought that his son lacked…ambitions. He wasn’t keen in inheriting the company and learning the ropes of business and while that disappointed Tony, he had come to terms with it (after some thoughts of possibly disowning his son and leaving nothing for him in the will).

And it’s only normal that Tony doesn’t understand what Peter sees in Harry. But they were clearly in love and Harry seemed to be faring better with Peter in his life. For Tony, he bonds instantly with Peter over their mutual interest in tech. There’s clearly some awe and worship there, but Tony brushes it off because he is the Tony Stark afterall.

But he also can’t deny he enjoys it.

The more he gets to know Peter, the more he starts to think: I want him for myself. He doesn’t know exactly when he starts imagining the younger male as his partner, realizing that he’s growing mildly irritated each time Harry is around Peter. Or when he starts taking mental notes of Peter’s likes and dislikes, occasionally bringing him out for lunch and/or dinner under the guise of “bonding” with his son’s partner.

“You know, I’ve been here with Harry so many times, but he never remembers that I love the smoked duck pasta here. “

“Well, I hope you’re alright with me going ahead to order for you.”

“…thanks for remembering, Mr.Stark.”

And Tony remembers.

Remembers that Peter loves his coffee with a specific brand of oat milk. That he has a preference for sweet-salty snacks and white wine over red, or how he’s slightly allergic to shrimps. He notices how Peter tends to overshare when he’s nervous, the way the boy gnaws on the skin of his thumb when he’s deep in thought, sees all the quirks that he finds so goddamn endearing.

When Harry shows Tony the ring he had picked out to propose to Peter, he flat out says to Harry: “Peter’s not going to like that. It’s too much.”

Harry laughs it off, “Come on, dad, you don’t know him like I do.”

Two months after Harry proposes to Peter, Tony smugly realizes that Peter’s wearing a different ring altogether. The jealousy grows and so does his unwarranted resentment towards his own son. Now, Tony has never once though that he’s a good man, but he stoops to an all time low when he offers Peter a position in R&D for entirely selfish reasons.

Peter’s fucking thrilled, but he also goes on a spiel about how he doesn’t to be treated any differently - honestly, Tony thinks the kid worries too much, but it’s what makes Peter so very…him.

As time goes by, Tony can’t lie to himself any longer : he truly does want Peter for himself.

[cowboysanddragons23]

While the Van der Linde gang is an outlaw gang, it operates more as a cult:

-Zero tolerance for criticism and questions: Dutch can't stand when someone questions or doubts him (ex. When John starts questioning him at Clemens Point, Dutch tells him that doubting means the end, aka weakness and forces him to say "Yes, Dutch." or when Uncle calls him out in a humorous manner, he threatens to kill him under the guise of following the joke).

-A belief that former followers are always wrong for leaving and there is never a legitimate reason to leave: Javier and Bill call John and Arthur traitors for abandoning them and Dutch, even though it was clear that Dutch was losing his sanity, he was going to get them all killed and both of them were trying to salvage what's left of the gang, a train of thought that lasts even after the gang disbanded.

-Lack of meaningful financial disclosure regarding money: Dutch constantly prattles about the fact that they need more money and at one point, he hid a box of money in one of the gang's hideouts.

-Abuse of members: While Dutch is not physically abusive of members, he is an abuser of the psychological variant (ex. When Molly raises legitimate concerns about how he is ignoring her and not paying her attention, he always dismisses her as delusional, even outright saying "I never met a woman with so many needs.")

-Absolute authoritarianism without accountability: If there is one thing that Dutch shows the most is his inability to take responsibility for his actions (ex. When he blames John for being the reason why the Saint Denis Bank heist went wrong, accusing him of being a rat, even though the main reason it went wrong was because Dutch was too reckless with his robberies to the trolley station and the boat, along with his kidnapping and killing of Angelo Bronte, the most powerful man of Saint Denis).

-Unreasonable fears about the outside world that involve evil conspiracies and persecution: Dutch fears civilization because it represents everything he hates and instills very irrational fears amongst them (ex. When Dutch tells John the law chases them because the gang represents everything they fear, yet ironically, after the gang disbands, Tilly has a happy life married to a lawyer and John has a normal life as a member of society).

-Cult of personality: The most obvious one. Dutch is seen like a father and a messiah amongst the gang (ex. In Red Dead Redemption, John tells Reyes that Dutch saved him, Bill and Javier.)

-Illegal and dangerous behaviour: The van der Linde are a gang of outlaws at first, but they ended up becoming the Wild West equivalent of domestic terrorists, with their attacks on the Cornwall Train, the Saint Denis Bank, a US Army Train....

-Charismatic leader: Dutch oozes charisma anytime he speaks, albeit of the superficial kind that has an iron hand on the people of his gang, which Kieran lampshades.

-Us VS Them mentality: Dutch enforced a very black and white view about their enemies, even outright admits so when he killed Bronte ("It is us or him.").

-Isolation and love-bombing: Once again, Molly is the biggest victim of this, with Dutch charming her into going with him and making her feel isolated on the gang, in order for her to depend on him and him alone.

-Time and energy: In the camp, you are expected to upgrade Dutch's tent first before upgrading the rest of the camp. And Dutch demands that money is put on the box, yet he himself never contributes to the box.

[rayraelleaizawa]

Corazon & Law with sensitive nipples

Sorry for the long period of time where I didnt post anything, I was lost in work & continueing watching One Piece. Obviously I finally got to Laws backstory and damnnnn i love these two. I need more of father figure Corazon taking care of Law.

But well, here I am, writing a bit about these two cuties :)

gn!reader

TW: slight NSFW, nothing too serious tho. MDNI

CORAZON

Give this man a break, he's already undercover to make sure his brother doesn't step too much over the line

You two are dating in secret. Corazon was scared that his brother would use you against him, and the thought of that alone broke him already. Corazon knew his brother wouldn't be scared to pull everything to get his will, and if that meant hurting you so Corazon would do what he wants, then Doflamingo wouldn't hesitate. That's why he insisted on keeping your relationship a secret

Also he doesn't like any of the family, so he didn't want them to get investigated into his realtionship with the person he adores and loves so much

It was a normal day when you approached him. When you two were with the family, it was mostly just small touches, featherlight and short so no one would get suspicious about it

You carelessly let your hand wander over his chest while passing him, and you could suddenly feel how he tenses. He wanted to take a step back but (ofc) he slipped and fell

He almost let out a sound infront of the others, but damn you grazed exactly over his nipples and he had to do everything to keep any noises to himself

The others didn't notice what exactly happened, they thought he just slipped like usually

But you noticed that it was something different

The next moment you two had some alone time, you asked him. Corazon wanted to play it off as him just being clumsy, but you grazed his chest again just like you did the last time, and this man moaned

He couldn't hold it in as the sudden sensation went through his body

You looked at him flabbergastered as he unconsciously arched his back more into your touch

Corazon and you had been in a relationship for some time now but you never noticed this wonderfull aspect about him

He blushed, and immediately knew he was in for a ride when he saw your mischievous smile

LAW

You found out in bed one time when you wanted to give him head

He beautfully arched his back and threw his head back, blushing after he realized that you found another one of his weak spots

He regrets that you found out almost every time when you wanted to get him going but he exused the idea with saying he has too much work to do

He sits at his work table and tries to work, dismissing the idea of going to sleep or anything else that has to do with something else than working

You would step behind him, move your arms to his front and just hug him

He enjoys your hug, but then your arms sneak up, and suddenly you roll and pinch at his nipples

He can't help but moan as he feels his pants grow tighter

He tries to keep all the noises in, to ignore it and push you away, but you just say how adorable he looks when he is blushing and acting like this and he immediately gives up

Gives into you every time, especially when you threaten him that if he doesnt start looking more after his own health and takes care of himself you'll start doing this infront of his crewmembers

You do have to help him release the ache you caused ofc

On most days you will have to use that method to get him to bed, but on some days he'll just pick you up, throw you over his shouder like the brat you are, and give you the time of your life in bed

[ladykailitha]

Spellbound Part 5

Hey guys!! Here we have the next part of this lovely fic. I've been steadily working on it, just not on WIP Wednesdays because... well... it's getting really spoiler-y and I don't want to ruin your fun.

In this we Chrissy acting suspicious and Steve deals with a couple of Fey. Yep. Fey.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

~

Steve decided that he was going to do his own errands this morning, as he had been using the kids after the attack on Bav to make sure she was going to be okay. But she nudged him out the door today with a basket full of his medicines.

His nosy curious nature brought him to the Munson’s door first, Wayne’s arthritis medicine in hand.

He knocked on the door and wasn’t surprised when Chrissy came out of it when it opened. He nodded. “Miss Cunningham.”

“Oh!” she cried, blushing bright red. “Hello, Steve! Wayne isn’t in right now, but I can take that for him.”

Steve stepped back, clutching the basket to his chest. “I’ve got other errands to run, I’ll just come back.”

She reached out for the basket and he took another step back. “It’s fine, Steve. I’ll make sure he gets them.”

Steve shook his head. He didn’t trust her. He tried scrying on her after Robin’s pronouncement that she was visiting Eddie and couldn’t. He wasn’t sure why, but he didn’t want to find out.

“I’ll come back,” he said, firmly. “Have a good a day!” He turned on his heel and hurried down the path, careful not to look back. His heart was going a mile a minute and his lungs tightened around his quickening breaths.

Behind him he heard Eddie’s voice call out, “Who was that?”

“No one,” was the unsettling response and then the sound of the door closing, echoed in his ears.

Steve hurried down the path. He didn’t know what her reasoning for lying was, but it sent a chill down his spine. There was something rotting in this town, but to be fair, that was why his mother sent him here in the first place. It was too closed off for a town of it’s side to be normal.

He quickly finished his errands, with the head of the watch’s house last. Jim Hopper was a good man who had left Hawkins to start a new life, but had come back after the death of his daughter and his wife subsequent descent into madness.

Wayne wasn’t the only one to use his arthritis medicine, Jim used it often too. Especially after a long day out in the rain.

Steve enjoyed visiting Jim for another reason.

“Steve!” a voice cried out and suddenly he had a armful.

Steve wrapped his arms around her and held her tight. “Good afternoon, Elinor, is your dad home?”

The little girl looked up at him with a big grin. “Yes, he’s home. But so is Father and Mother...”

Ah. That would explain how gleeful she was.

Elinor Hopper was a changeling. She had been swapped with another child like they always were, but what they didn’t count on was the baby being dropped off at a way station and picked up by Jim Hopper. He, still grieving the loss of his own daughter, Sara, nursed the changeling back to health and properly took care of her.

And when the fae came to take back the stump they had used to swap create her, they found a happy, healthy child instead. A child they could not take back to the faerie lands without Hopper’s permission. One he refused to give.

Steve had managed to intervene in time before the sidhe got upset enough to raze the whole town. He got them all to agree to terms that Jim would raise Elinor as his own and she would return to the faerie lands when she was grown and could make her own decisions and they would pay for her upbringing.

After all, it was their fault she was created in the first place. It did make for some awkward moments over the years. Most when the fae got tired of paying for her upkeep and would show up to demand her back.

Honestly though, Steve thought it was the funniest thing because try as they might they could never get his name to bend him to their will. Because he would go by Jim or Hopper, never James. Steve didn’t think there was a single soul anywhere who knew it was for sure, James.

“I’ll go smooth things out again,” he promised kissing her forehead.

Steve walked into the house and there stood the most graceful, elegant beings you had ever seen. Both were tall and thin, but in an uncanny valley kind of way. Their hair was long and blond, coming to the middle of his back and her waist. Their eyes were a bright, unnatural blue and their clothing screamed wealth in ways no human could match.

“Lord Eanethreal, Lady Melisande,” he said bowing, “it is good to see you again.”

Both pairs of blue eyes and a third more natural pair of blue eyes turned to him. Steve looked unassuming most days, but not in that moment. Not then.

He stood up straight and his clothes that were a warm, olive green most of the time, had shifted from an earthy tone, to a glittering emerald green and on his head was a matching pointed hat that denoted his profession and rank. The change made the green in his own eyes stand out, making them more hazel than brown.

“Steven,” Lady Melisande said with a nod, though Lord Eanethreal just ignored him with a sniff. “We have come to take the child you call Elinor. She is missing vital teachings as she wastes away up here in the mortal realm.”

“That was not the bargain, my lady,” Steve said with a gentle smile, “as you well know. Would you really go back on our deal?”

That was when Lord Eanethreal took notice of him, spitting in anger. “It was a trick! A low down dirty trick and I refused to let it stand!”

Jim chuckled. “Don’t like it when it’s you on the receiving end, huh?” He shook his head in amusement.

“To break your word,” Steve warned, “once it freely given will bring a curse upon you for one hundred years. Is that really what you would like happen here today? Because you could take her, but there is no prison strong enough or deep enough to stop her from clawing her way back to Jim. So not only will you be cursed as the deal states, Elinor will have wrecked havoc on the faerie lands that will be felt for centuries and all because you doubt the love of this human man for that little girl.”

He pointed at Jim who glared at them, daring them to refute Steve’s statement.

Steve held Eanethreal’s gaze for a long moment before the fae lord broke contact first. He snarled something feral and dark, but suddenly pantry was full and the coffer overflowing. He turned on his heel and stormed out of the house, the smell of lightning crackling behind him in his wake.

Melisande shook her head. “My apologies, yet again. It is a sore spot for my husband to be bound to the mortal realm thusly.”

Steve bowed his head respectfully. “I understand, but the usual laws don’t apply here. He not the person you sought to punish by swapping out their baby for the changeling, and Elinor did not die as most do. So it created an unique situation that must have unusual rules.”

“There is wisdom in that,” she murmured. “I will try harder to convince him of such wisdom.” She nodded to Steve and swept out the door without so much as a backward glance to Jim.

Then Steve was back to his normal every day self. His head began to pound and he swayed on his feet.

Then everything thing went black.

~

When Steve woke up, he wasn’t surprised to see that he was laid out on Jim’s bed. No, what was surprising was that Eddie was there at the bedside looking concerned.

Steve blinked up at him in confusion. “Did I hit my head on the way down?”

Jim chuckled from behind Eddie. “No, kid. I caught you in time. Eddie was passing by when he saw our visitors and was curious as to the nature of our little get together.”

“That’s a whole story for someone other than me to tell,” Steve huffed, staying lying down. He knew his limits and he had blown past them. “Short version. I make the fae pay child support.”

Jim chuckled. “Steve just used too much of his power forcing the bastards to back down.”

“Why the hell would you need to use your powers to tell them to fuck off?” Eddie asked, frowning.

The room stopped spinning so he carefully sat up as Jim passed a plate of food over Eddie’s head. Steve took it with a grateful smile.

“Because they would only negotiate with those they deem equals,” Elinor said grimly. “If his power wasn’t half the level it should be, he wouldn't need to be using glamour to make himself look bigger to them.”

“Well, Miss Thing,” Steve teased, “unless you have a solution about unlocking my full potential that isn’t finding my soulmate, shush!”

Elinor giggled. “Nope, pretty sure that’s the only way.”

Eddie looked over his shoulder at her and then back at Steve. “I thought you didn’t hold to the notion that you were that ultra rare super witch or whatever you called it was.”

Steve sighed around a piece of bread and cheese, putting down the piece he had in his hand. “That’s what everyone thought were I grew up. That I just wasn’t as powerful as my mother because I’m a male witch, but...”

“Well that’s sexist,” Eddie huffed. “And I’m guessing that every soul powered super witch were lesbians?”

Steve burst out laughing. “Well no. A lot of male/female pairings in the centennial sorcerers as my Auntie Muriel liked to call them, a handful of lesbians, too. But the reason they didn’t–um... think it was me because there’s never been a male/male pairing in any record. Granted there hasn’t been that many because it’s once every hundred years...”

Eddie smiled. “Still out say the last ten or so, it’s never happened?”

Steve nodded. Not many people in the village knew that he was gay. In fact with the current mayor, it was a safe bet that no one outside his very intimate circle knew that fact.

“Still sexist, Steve,” he said softly. “You just said that about of a third of the most power witches were men if there were heterosexual powerful prestidigitators in the past. So your family just dismissed as being male without cause.”

Steve opened his mouth in shock. “Oh shit. I never thought of it that way. You’re right, that was pretty awful of them.”

Eddie smiled at him and then got to his feet. “Well, now that I know you didn’t kill yourself protecting the little miss, I’ll be on my way.”

“Since you’re here,” Steve said, pointing to the basket on the table, “you might as well take your uncle’s medicine with you. He was going to be my last stop.”

Eddie picked up the basket and one of the packets, frowning at them. He picked up the rest of the packets and tucked them into the safety of his inner pocket of vest.

“I’ll make sure he gets them,” he murmured. “Seriously though, you need to stop using up all your power to protect others, or you might just burn out before you meet your soulmate.”

Steve huffed a laugh. “I’ll probably never meet them here, this town isn’t very friendly for people like me.” He tilted the head to side. “The witch thing doesn’t help either.”

Eddie burst out laughing. “You really are something else, Harrington. Take care of yourself. you hear?”

“Will do,” Steve murmured softly. “Say hello to Wayne for me.”

Eddie nodded and then slipped out of the house. Both Jim and Elinor turned to Steve.

“He didn’t touch you or Dad,” Elinor said succinctly, tilting her head to the side. “But he rustled my hair, why?”

Jim huffed a breath through his nose. “Probably for the same reason Steve here doesn’t touch men. He knows his soulmate is a man and it would be pitchforks and torches if happened to be the wrong man.”

She nodded sagely. “I’m sorry you were forced to use your powers so soon after the incident with the Carver boy. I hope you find your soulmate quickly. I fear there is a storm coming that will alter this town forever.”

Then she smiled and skipped out of the house as if nothing had happened.

Jim and Steve looked at each other in concern.

“Well,” Jim said darkly, “that was fucking ominous.”

Steve could only agree.

~

Tag List: CLOSED

1- @itsall-taken @watermelonmite @zerokrox-blog @sadisticaltarts @dolphincliffs

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @cryptid-system @kultiras @kimsnooks

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji @dreamercec @blondie1006

5- @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @genderless-spoon @fearieshadow @thesecondfate

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

9- @wheneverfeasible @micheledawn1975 @gloomysoup @dotdot-wierdlife @tartarusknight

10- @ollyxar @yesdangerpls @two-vampires-kissing @themoonagainstmers @estrellami-1

[yuriandyaoi]

Ykw ykw im just gonna post a rant I made on Discord, Ahem:

Akechi is kind of the embodiment of parts of the thieves that make them, well.. Shitty thieves. Parts of themselves that inconvenience other people, or make them difficult, or otherwise present a reason that they might not be worthy of their power. The version of the thieves who got caught up in their own justice and fame.

And weirdly enough, I feel like Sumire kind of has a similar thing going on, but with parts of themselves they find pitiable. The version of the thieves who seem helpless without Joker to motivate them, children crying out for help.

Longer rant under cut

Akechi is the Ryuji who views everyone with inherent mistrust and hostility, because people who should’ve been good to him have hurt him before. Sumire is the Ryuji who lost a feeling of fulfillment from his sporty hobby after a traumatic event and wants that back more than anything.

Akechi is the Ann with a childish streak, for whom the only reason they didn’t murder their least favorite person in the entire world was out of a desire for him to just suffer far worse than that, who has grand dreams of fame. Sumire is the Ann who is socially awkward and blames herself for every tragic happenstance and who wants to prove herself to everyone.

Akechi is the Yusuke who was used as a pawn by his abusive father and settled into that life because it was just comfortable. Sumire is the Yusuke who wanted that life back more than anything, because things were normal back then.

Akechi is the Makoto who was willing to insinuate Ann was responsible for Shiho’s attempt just to hurt her, who played into a system she knew was cruel because as long as she swam with the current she wouldn’t get hurt. Sumire is the Makoto who so so desperately wishes she was her older sister, who feels she’ll never escape from her shadow.

Akechi is the Futaba who believed her life ended after her mother died, that she’ll never recover from that, she was too far-gone. And Sumire is a Futaba who was told she was right. And her only way out is for Joker to fix her. If not him she’ll take anyone really.

Akechi is the Haru with a sadistic side festering beneath her smiley, soft exterior, thoughts of vengeance brewing against the man who ruined her life. And she just has to keep it down, be a good girl, be polite. Sumire is the Haru who’s learned to stop fighting, because the person she is, is not and will never be good enough. She just falls into the same routine she’s always been in, because what’s the point in trying if she’ll always fail, or if no one will listen.

[ninjnerds2017]

To be fair he told a group consisting of 3 orphans, a guy who's mom died and ran away from his dad, and a kid who was raised abandoned 😅😂

thinking about how much the ninja did NOT give a shit about jay being adopted 😭

[frownyalfred]

Some questions and thoughts for the Coral Room

I noticed that there are often mentions of beta mothers. Alfred is jokingly compared or called one, beta mothers are all swarming Bruce in your last post, etc. etc.

But I also remember that Betas do not really have a childbearing role in your world. They're there so they can care for the pack as a whole and jump in if either Alpha or Omega (or both, poor Alfred) are indisposed for whatever reason (mentioned childbearing, childcare, drops, death (poor Alfred²))

So are there just Betas that do the majority of child care and are thus assigned the extra role of parent, additionally to already being in a pack that communally raises the pups?

How do Betas generally cope with the nuclear family constellation that's become the norm? They can adopt children, but not sire or carry their "own". Alphas and Omegas would also seek out each other for ruts or heats, since that's what's expected. So building romantic relationships would be pretty limited in the way modern society is structured.

What are their struggles? What are their norms? How do the maneuver a world that's pressures Alphas, objectives Omegas and forgets Betas?

Excellent question. You'll probably have noticed that the references to beta mothers in the fic are purposefully toward older beta women, or those who are from a few generations back. They're the last holdover of the pack mentality before the nuclear family shift. And you're absolutely right, they serve as parents and/or communal carers in the pack hierarchy, despite not being childbearers.

But, now that packs are dying out and shifting to a more nuclear family model, beta mothers are feeling that shift the most. They don't have 'children' in the sense of alphas and omegas, in that they are children they sired. But back in the old ways, any child they parented was theirs, just as much as it was the alpha or omega's.

This new mindset definitely pressures betas to fall into relationships with other betas, and yes I'd imagine some would adopt. Others fall into nanny/caregiving roles for alpha/omega pairs but fall short of being allowed to use the 'beta mother' title, since it's essentially defunct. And those alpha/omega pairs rarely induct those folks into their pack, largely because they don't have one anymore outside of their mating bond.

Alfred is a good example of a pack beta / beta mother holdover from the earlier times. Thomas and Martha were old enough and from old family lines that they still thought of their possible children, their house, and their future as a pack. As we see in one of the spin off fics, Martha refuses to proceed with her pregnancy (jokingly) until Thomas names Alfred as pack beta. I truly believe their plan was to have many children, and to start a formal pack that way. Which they would be allowed to more easily by society, as they were old and "eccentric" as opposed to trying to fit into the modern working nuclear family mindset.

A big theme I was kind of putting off to the side in ASOH (but talked a lot about here) is how Bruce + Clark are bringing back some older traditions, thanks in no small part to Lex. They prioritize a pack mindset and rarely even think about the more modern family setup others follow. This puts them in conflict with folks like the huffy alpha junior (I forget what i named him -- Graham?) at the gala who is rude to Lex, only for his father (Senior) to treat Lex with older omega customs and respect.

So yes, in a long winded answer to your question: betas probably suffer the most in this new world, because they are forced to curb their instincts that would normally be flourishing in a pack hierarchy. Alfred did this for a while when Bruce was going through his own issues with being an omega -- but it's clearly not ideal for him, and certainly hurt him long term after operating as a pack beta for his parents.

This is also a bit of a joke for myself, but the beta mother joke Lex makes precedes him going over and introducing himself to them in order to win favor. He immediately asks them if any of their sons are single -- this is a subtle way (ish) to indicate that while he's younger, he respects the beta mother role and sees them as valid parents. Of course this wins them over right away, as we see briefly. Clark also wins them over by politely chatting with them in their beta capacity, though he's not as aware of the high society lines as Lex or Bruce are.

[lsunstreakerl]

slinking out of my homework induced coma. darkbull! 1.7k words, carlos pov. (I'll be posting the "discipline" ficlet later today hopefully, but you guys get some insight into it with this one). once again: this is the darkbull universe. it's not as bad as the kidnapping ficlet but it's not great either.

Carlos breaths out a slow breath, fingertips grazing the cool metal in front of him. Wheatley watches impassively from a few feet away, protective headphones around his neck.

"Your father ever teach you to handle those?"

Carlos remembers being small, holding BB pellets in his hands, but-

That had been for fun. Not anything serious, just boys being boys, trying to see who had the best aim, who could hit the furthest can.

Nothing like this.

He wraps his fingers around the handle and lifts, feeling the weight in his palms. It feels heavy, but not as much as it should.

Something with the power to so easily take a life shouldn't be so easy to lift.

"He didn't teach me with one of these, no."

Wheatley nods, stepping closer and rearranging Carlos's fingers around the handle.

"It's going to have some kickback. I don't want you worrying about bullseyes yet. I want you making sure your aim is steady."

Carlos brings it up in front of him as Wheatley raises his headphones up, placing Carlos's over his ears as well.

He widens his stance a bit, steadies himself as much as possible. Wheatley had been telling him about this part- shoot on exhale.

He focuses on the target and lets his thumb flick over the safety.

This is not what he thought he'd be doing when he joined Formula 1- not even close. None of it is. He didn't think he'd be content in a "junior" team, he didn't think he'd end up entangled in part of a historical criminal empire, he didn't think he would be in a three way relationship where only two of them know what's actually happening.

At least- he thinks it's three way. If it's not now, it will be soon. Daniel has been circling him and Max, like the moon orbiting the Earth. He gets closer each pass, eating meals with them or doing workouts together, and Carlos knows Max is head over heels, so it's really only a matter of time.

Max wants Daniel, just like he'd wanted Carlos, and he gets what he wants.

Always.

Max getting what he wants is why Carlos is here in the factory basement, learning how to kill someone.

Max has no idea about the way the factory revolves around him. He's their guiding star, their perfect pet, their number one driver.

Carlos sometimes finds himself wondering if Max even realized what was happening when he was seventeen. Probably not- Carlos remembers Max at seventeen, angry and defensive. Nothing like the Max of now, fierce on track but happy to roll over for the team, let them do whatever they want to him.

If Carlos hadn't been present in the factory to watch the slow progression, he almost wouldn't believe it. He has to respect Redbull for their patience, but-

He's afraid of how long they're willing to play the long game. They'd been so careful with Max. They'd gained his trust, and they'd gone so slowly it's no surprise Max didn't notice.

Holding onto him just a bit longer in a hug than someone normally would, a hand slipping lower on his back or higher on his thigh, palms around his neck- the slow removal of personal space, of boundaries- the way there are always eyes on him. Max is so used to being observed he doesn't even register it anymore.

Carlos had pressed him against a counter the other day, because Max had been sweet and desperate and wanting, and he'd had a moment where he worried that someone could walk in.

And then Max had whined into his mouth and begged for his fingers, and Carlos realized he didn't care. Max's flat is bugged, there are trackers buried deep into muscle and flesh, the team has never had any grievances about drugging him- if someone walks in on them, they'll probably just be glad to see Max has his needs met.

Just like he'd feared, someone had walked in- gotten their drink from the fridge as normal, winked at Carlos, and then left.

The only change afterwards was that Carlos felt like the team approved of him more.

So. He's been proving himself right lately.

Carlos looks at the target in front of him. Max is so- Max is naive, about the whole thing. The team works very hard to keep it that way, and that responsibility now falls on Carlos as well.

He tries to imagine someone breaking in, trying to hurt Max, trying to kill Max-

Redbull would go on a warpath.

Carlos thinks of Max laid out underneath him in bed, curled up with him on the couch, running next to him on the track. Fierce, syrupy sweet Max.

He thinks of someone else getting that Max, someone who's not Redbull, someone who hasn't put in the work.

There's a sharp flicker of possessiveness through him.

Carlos fires.

------

Two weeks later:

Carlos has his back leaned against the headboard, Max asleep between his legs, head resting on his stomach.

Daniel steps back out of the bathroom, passing Carlos a washcloth.

"He out?"

Carlos nods, fingers absentmindedly running through Max's hair. It's been getting softer since Carlos convinced him to start using conditioner. It's getting longer as well- enough that Carlos can tug on it gently, enough that the ends of it curl at the nape of his neck.

"Yes."

Daniel pulls on a pair of sweatpants and settles next to Carlos, careful not to shift the bed too much. They're both talking quietly.

"Well, we know he likes that."

Carlos huffs a small laugh.

"We should keep a list."

He means it as a joke, but the way Daniel tilts his head, eyes assessing- it might not be a half bad idea.

Daniel reaches over to the bedside table, tearing out a piece of paper from one of their smaller notebooks as he snags a pen.

His eyes shift over to Carlos, and he sounds contemplative when he speaks.

"Wheatley's added evening meets to my schedule for the next two weeks- said I should ask you about it."

Well, that answers a question Carlos had been wondering about, if Daniel had been trained already or not.

"He's going to teach you to shoot. Also some knife work."

Daniel snorts, eyes crinkling over at him.

"Nah mate, seriously, what's it about?"

Carlos lowers his head a bit, eyes flicking back down to where Max is asleep between them.

"I am serious. We are around Max a lot- we should know how to protect him just as well as the rest of the garage."

Daniel's eyes are wide when Carlos looks back up at him.

"Oh."

He carefully folds the paper up before sliding it back in the drawer.

"When did they start teaching you?"

Carlos hums, lightly scratching his nails across Max's scalp. Even in his sleep he makes a soft noise, burrowing slightly closer to Carlos.

"Right after we got together. The team is very observant about these things."

Daniel nods.

"And he seriously doesn't know anything?"

Carlos shakes his head, but it's somewhat fond. How Max has managed to remain completely oblivious is a feat in itself, and Carlos has his suspicions that Max purposely ignores things that don't make sense. Ignorance is bliss, or something like that.

"No idea. I think maybe he gets suspicious when the team is mad at him, but it is hard to keep track during that time. He gets very lost."

"Mad at him- like a couple weeks ago with the Williams incident? The only thing I noticed was that he was a lot quieter and had a hard time staying focused. If anything, the team seemed nicer to him."

Daniel sounds confused, which is fair.

"Daniel, that is the punishment."

Carlos needs to think of a way to phrase this that doesn't send Daniel running for the hills, cultlike crime empire team bosses be damned.

Carlos had thought it was bad too, when he'd first learned, but he's since then seen the positive effects. Max really does do better this way, with the positive reinforcement, but sometimes they have to... wipe the slate first.

"The Williams thing, he was reckless, yes? Was not thinking of his own safety on that overtake, and it crashed them both out. He was not thinking of his own safety because the pundits that week were talking shit about him."

Daniel still looks confused.

"They were talking shit about the whole garage, yeah. That weekend sucked."

"So the most recent thing in his brain is the media, for that race. Makes him race bad. The solution is to,"

Carlos flounders for a second. Christian had explained this much better.

"The team 'wipes the slate', if that makes sense. When he is lost or unfocused, it is because they are trying to remind him of the actual priorities. You will hear them remind him often about how we want him to drive. The repetitiveness-"

Carlos spins his index finger a few times to mimic the motion.

"-it sticks with him. He doesn't remember specific things from that time if they only happen once, but if everyone is telling him frequently to look out for his own safety in the car... much easier for him to remember, yes?"

Carlos brings his hand back down. It really does make sense, if you skip past the questionable ethics.

"And he does not like to be confused like that, so he tries to do what the team asks and avoid it."

Daniel's brows are furrowed, and he looks concerned- but also deep in thought.

"How the fuck are they doing that?"

Carlos shrugs.

"No idea."

He lets the topic drop, because he does know. Had even helped with it, after the Williams incident, because it helps Max, but Daniel-

Daniel isn't ready for that yet. Might not agree to the group effort of slipping things in Max's food and drinks, keeping him unsteady and disoriented. Carlos doesn't like doing it, none of the team does, but it's a necessary thing.

Besides-

He looks back down at Max. He's so trusting of all of them. Eager to please, thrives on praise- none of them could bear actually being angry with him. It still hurts the heart of the team when he's confused like that, and it's upsetting to see the way he gets disoriented and lost, but he comes out of it better. It's the right thing to do for him, and it works.

Daniel will get looped in when he's ready.

[aaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhh]

yaknow

all the players of dndads bring the same stuff each season but like message wise

Like Mat is big on "though I recognize my problems that doesn't mean I'm stable"-with season1 Darryl knew that he probably wasn't the best dad and wasn't doing the best stuff, even as he tried to be stable his arc was kinda realizing that and also helping grant.Link understood his dad wasn't ok and he wasn't ok and he realized and pushed him and his dad to get help. Kelsey understands her addictions but always pushes herself to be batter and teach her students, but truly she still has problems and that she realizes that she can't solve everything and I feel that is beautiful.

With Beth it's more anxiety and how others pressure. With Ron it's how the pressure of his father and how his childhood trama caused him to be more "unaware" and caused more anxiety to be good. Scary had this anxiety that she was the reason her dad wasn't with them and the stereotype of goths hating everyone and not caring. She also reaches out to willy who is distant like her father and that's why she looked ro him so much. Trudy is about the pressure that society has on women and what they are "supposed to do" and are "made for"

Freddy is more about 2 sides of a coin. Glenn,even though he seems immature, he realizes the impact Morgan's death has on Nick and gives up everything for him. Taylor is a weed and silly but he still has the impact of his dad not being there for him on the inside and uses anime and swords as coping. Though Blake is a silly not great plummer who doesn't care and stuff he still struggles with his abilities.

Will let's his characters break and realizes things, he shows that bottling thing isn't good and even if you thought you got over things they might come back and that is OK. Henry holds himself in this high standard were he has to be the most zen and crunchy munchy guy, but when he sees his father he realizes that he isn't perfect and isn't what he holds himself to but that he shouldn't hide who he is and nor force himself and just be himself. I'm season 2 Normal hides behind this mask of teen spirit and thinks that if he makes other people good their good deeds will also make him loved and if he tries to make everyone better they will love him, but he realizes that he shouldn't hide and just keep going(kinda)

But idk you tell me

[theotherrookie]

"Oh, he was so mad. He sent an angry letter not long after, you know. Unfortunately, I burned it and nothing came of it anyway."

"And I cherish the knowledge of father rotting away in a trap forever as we speak." Lucien added, then smiled at Russell's words, "Thank you."

"Yeah! Screw bad parents." Erica made her way back and plopped down next to Travis to watch Smokey, "You should see him when I'm working out. I had to bring some of his toys to the gym because he kept jumping on the treadmill with me."

Smokey enjoyed being included in whatever she was doing no matter what it was. Vandalizing a seat would keep him entertained for a while. The Twins could keep on glaring at her all they wanted.

Though their attitude seemed to falter slightly when they heard Willow laughing like that. They really dodged a bullet there.

"Sure-"

"-Just keep Skynet away from us."

The two briefly eyed Rook, before they moved just that bit closer to Russell. They normally wouldn't give up that sort of information. But after catching up with Ratchet for a bit, they were suddenly feeling in a rather chatty mood.

"Well, Five made us go see this guy who sells silver bullets."

"If you think that trick at the cinema was bad, wait until Crosshair gets to use them."

It was clear that they had some consideration for their colleague, even if they were giving her away now.

"We thought that was a waste of money-"

"-but maybe you made a bigger impression on Five than he cares to admit, big guy." Tommy added, pointing at Bill.

"Oh, those really hurt." Erica said, "We'll have to watch out."

"That's exactly it." Rook confirmed, "The funny thing is that everybody told him not to buy the whole thing. But he wanted that to be my office, you know. He thought that saying 'pretty please' would finally get me to work for him."

"Fathers can be persistent like that." Lucien said, giving a solemn nod.

"But we got away, uh?" Rook replied. Lucien nodded in return and the two fist bumped.

Smokey meowed softly, happy with the scritches. In fact, he was so happy he started making biscuits, much to the dismay of the Twins.

"Yes, you can kill us. So could anybody with a gun-"

"-or a particularly dedicated duck."

"What did you do to the car?" they added.

The two crossed their arms, not caring about Bill's, nor Erica's threats. It was no secret that they were quite jealous of their chosen ride. But that aside, they needed it to work and they definitely didn't want to sit on scratched seats.

"I think we hit them where it hurts." Erica pointed at the very hostile looks on the mercs' faces, "Yeah. Be nice and maybe you'll get it back."

She didn't care to hear what the two had to say about it. The elf's ears perked up as Ratchet screamed once again. While that was a common occurrence by now, it was followed by Willow's distant laughing.

"They're having fun." Erica made her way to the board and drew a small square on the bottom right corner so they could start a third count, "Hey, why don't we ask these guys about their friends' powers and stuff? It could be useful."

It wasn't like the Twins had anything better to do.

[honeyjynxxed]

Dead on Main Songfic WIP

Danny peaked out from the curtain to check the crowd forming in front of the stage, feeling his breath stutter at all the people milling around. He supposed he shouldn’t be surprised, the Iceberg Lounge was a hotspot for the rich and elite to schmooze and network with their less than savoury business partners. A Gotham Gala was for fake smiles and political masks, the Iceberg Lounge was for the real business transactions to take place.

Was it a good idea to take a job as entertainment in a place like this? Maybe; Danny was still on the fence about it but he knew that it was important for him to be here. The salary was one of the major pros of taking the job, with it he might actually be able to get a slightly nicer place that wasn’t in the heart of crime alley, but on the other hand his protective obsession was going haywire the longer he spent time around all of these criminals. If he were a normal human there was no way that he’d be able to hear their conversations on weapon smuggling, drug trafficking, artifact stealing, and more but he was enhanced in a way that not many others could claim and thus he could hear it all.

A hand on his shoulder brought him out of his thoughts and Danny fought the urge to jump or yelp. Quickly he turned his head to see just who had managed to sneak up on him before letting the tension leech out of body. It was just his new boss, Jason Todd, second son of Bruce Wayne and rumored to be the secret identity of the Red Hood. Danny knew he was Red Hood though, their cores felt the same, sickly and fractured. “Pre-show jitters?” Jason asked and Danny felt his core trill at his deep, rumbly voice. “Anything I can do?”

“It's my first gig here, of course I’m nervous.” Danny had to look up at his boss, the man easily standing over six feet tall and Danny had not quite gotten as tall as his father despite all his growing, “Maybe a kiss to settle my nerves?” It was a cheeky thing to suggest and he coupled it by batting his eyelashes and sticking out his bottom lip. His act got him a pinch to his side that made him squeal and dart away from Jason. “Hey! Don’t be mean to the entertainment, I could quit ya now?” Danny stuck his hands on his hips and lifted his chin in what was supposed to be looking down on Jason but it didn’t look quite right given their height difference. 

Still his core gives a delighted tremble when Jason laughs at him, “Get on stage doll, and we’ll see what you have to say about quitting after.” His boss winks at him before nodding to the still closed curtains separating them from the rest of the lounge. Danny gives him a wave before stepping through to the other side.

There are people on the other side, but not a giant crowd like he might’ve been expecting. The Iceberg Lounge was first and foremost a lounge, somewhere that rich men and women could go for a nice dinner, a smoke indoors, and to show off their latest fashion, jewelry and whatever else the rich spend their money on. Old families with old wealth, new up and comers with new drug money, and those they allowed to come with them. To his left the band begins to play and Danny jumps right into the chorus.

“Skin and bones, vulnerable

Crack my ribs and make me whole

Come and breathe the air into my lungs

I just wanna be your skeleton.”

The band picks up in energy, shifting from the slow and careful tones before into something faster. Danny keeps his almost regretful tone however, even if his pace shifts. 

“A silhouette is following

Just waiting to break me down

I had it good, that’s what I get

I guess that it's my turn now. 

Cut the wires, tangled, twisted

To find me again

Fracture, break me into pieces

‘Til all that I am,”

Danny can see Jason moving between the patrons of the lounge, stopping and speaking with some, pointing and directing his employees around, and yet not once do his eyes leave Danny on stage. He moves into the chorus again:

“Skin and bones, vulnerable

Crack my ribs and make me whole

Come and breathe the air into my lungs

I just wanna be your skeleton.

Fix my head, stitch my soul

Find out where it all went wrong

Come and breathe the air into my lungs

I just wanna be your skeleton,

Skeleton!”

Danny let the last note of the chorus hang as the band was allowed to let loose, just as he began to let go of his powers. Not completely, not enough to go fully ghost, but he allowed them to slip through slightly. From beneath his skin he allowed his skeleton to become visible, allowed his hair to become streaked with white, let the neon green seep into his eyes, and his body started to disobey gravity just enough for him to rise a few inches off the ground. By the time he was finished with his little display it was time to jump back into the song.

“A blinding pain behind my eyes,

Is covering up the truth.

Inside my brain’s, a parasite,

It's telling me what to do.

Feeding on my happiness like I never deserved it at all

(I never deserved it at all)

Feeling like a pessimist when I just wanna laugh through it all

(To laugh through it all)”

Jason’s eyes had widened at the sight of his powers, a flash of green to reflect his own eyes changing but Danny’s boss was nothing if not professional and kept what must’ve been a surprise from stopping him from doing his job. Ancients above he wanted to see what would make Jason lose his cool, what Danny could do to finally make him snap. He’d been trying as Phantom to rile up Red Hood into finally just grabbing him and pinning him against a wall, a rooftop, a door, really he wasn’t picky, but he hadn’t had much success yet. Perhaps going at Jason Todd instead would get him more results.

“Skin and bones, vulnerable

Crack my ribs and make me whole.

Come and breathe the air into my lungs,

I just wanna be your skeleton.

Fix my head, stitch my soul

Find out where it all went wrong.

I just wanna be your skeleton,

Skeleton!”

Danny allowed himself to rise with the music this time, bringing the microphone with him. Nearly all the patrons in the lounge, not just the ones seated at the tables in front of the stage, were openly staring now. Some with wonder, some with disgust, and others in pure awe. He felt his core rumble at the sight, knowing every person in here would remember this night for a long time. Every ghost wanted that, to be remembered, to have their name spoken aloud by the living. Danny wasn’t fully dead yet but that didn’t make him an exception to that rule.

“I project pain with the frame that I maintain

Pulling on chains, wanna break what I can’t change

All that rage put away in my ribcage

Comes out in stages, how could I stage this?

Bending over ‘til you break your back for this

Go ahead and crack my ribs, and take my oxygen

I’m damned if I do, or I don’t, I’m breaking my bones

Can’t make it alone, no!”

Danny was glad that he didn’t need to breathe as much or as often as a regular person did, knowing the quicker parts of the song would’ve been trouble for him otherwise. If this wasn’t one of his favorite songs to cover he’d probably have needed a lot more practice in order to do it justice but his abilities gave him the edge he needed.

“Making such a mess (hey), it’s getting permanently

Painted in my head (hey), and there’s no going back

So love me like I’m dead (hey) until there’s nothing left (hey)

And watch me decompose (hey), ‘til I’m-”

He began to float slowly back down to the stage as he picked up the chorus, knowing the song was winding down and he’d have to shut off his powers soon to make it all seem like special effects. 

“Skin and bones, vulnerable

Crack my ribs and make me whole.

Come and breathe the air into my lungs,

I just wanna be your skeleton.

Fix my head, stitch my soul

Find out where it all went wrong.

Come and breathe the air into my lungs,

I just wanna be your skeleton,

Skeleton.”

The final lyric was sung and Danny pushed his powers out just a bit longer to plunge the stage into darkness, the only thing indicating his presence still there being the glow of his skeleton under his skin. The moment the piano played its last note, he extinguished the glow as well. An ice core he may have but all ghosts have slight abilities to mess with electronics and electrical signals, lights, cameras, and tvs being the easiest for him to manipulate. Electrical currents killed him and interacting with them too much can sap him of his strength.

The lights above the stage flickered back on just as he slipped behind the curtains again to hide backstage. He knew within moments that Jason would be storming back here to confront him but he was ready for it. Deep down Danny could admit to wanting this job for more than just the quick cash. Around Jason, around Red Hood his core sang and purred and trilled. When he was with Jason he could visibly see the tension leak from his body, could feel his core begin the process to try and mend itself. If Danny could help him with that then he wanted to, not just because he was the Ghost King and it was his duty but because he actually liked Jason and he wanted the other halfa to like him too. 

“What,” Speak of the devil and shall appear, “the hell was all that Fenton?” The teasing tone from earlier was gone and Danny could see Jason’s handsome face twisted with a wide array of emotions. Anger, caution, worry, fear, and so many others played out in his eyes and were broadcasted by his still forming core. Honestly right now Danny could just coo, Jason clearly didn’t know about the emotions his core was sending out but it was still really cute to watch someone else go through the baby ghost stuff. 

Instead Danny put on his best anxious, scared, please don’t out me face possible and began wringing his hands together. “I just…it's hard to suppress my powers all the time. I know Batman has that whole ‘No metas in Gotham’ rule but I thought since you were running the lounge you might be able to protect me from him.” He just barely looked up at Jason through his eyelashes, letting his lower lip tremble slightly in his act. “Are you gonna fire me? I don’t know if I can get another job…” He watched Jason stiffen, mentally fighting with himself on what he should do. Pretending his powers were meta abilities was the hook, playing on the fact that Jason had a rocky relationship with Batman was the line. 

“No, I’m not going to fire you. That wouldn’t be right of me and I don’t think it's fair that Batman doesn’t want Metas in Gotham.” Calling out the protective obsession forming in Jason’s core was the sinker. The baby halfa didn’t even realize it but Danny already had him wrapped around his finger, now if only he could get him wrapped around him in a literal sense they’d be going somewhere. “I would’ve appreciated a warning though, lying to my guests about special effects isn’t a problem but I could’ve charged them more for it if I had known.”

Danny laughed, forcing it to sound a little wet as if he were on the verge of tears. “Gotta make those elites give back to the world somehow right?” He chanced looking up at Jason a little bit more now and saw the relief on his face that Danny was joking back at him. He might not realize that his core was calling out for Danny, singing in tune so to speak, but somewhere he instinctively wanted to be around him. “So that means I’m okay to keep using my powers? I wasn’t lying when I said it gets hard to suppress them and my voice tends to bring them out more.”

Jason sighed and shook his head, “Yeah you can keep using them, but try and keep them to things that can be explained yeah? Make-up, wires, that sorta stuff. Can’t have Batman smashing in here to interrogate the entertainment. It's just bad for business, doll.” And oh how Danny’s core positively purred at the nickname. Some might find it offensive but when Jason said it he all but melted. 

“Keep callin’ me doll and I’ll do anything you say, boss.” Jason’s eyes darkened for just a moment and Danny suddenly had an entirely new way to get under his skin. For a moment his mind drifts to how Red Hood would react to being called boss by Phantom, or even sir. Danny didn’t want just a one night stand or a friends with benefits situation, he wanted Jason. He wanted to meet his family, help him reunite with his family, wanted to go out on dates and kiss him and hold his hand. Danny wanted the whole package deal, Red Hood Crime Lord and all. Plus, Jason’s core was so sickly, so fractured. He clearly wasn’t getting enough clean ectoplasm and either wasn’t feeding his obsession or wasn’t feeding all of his obsessions. Danny could help, Danny could make it all better. He wasn’t as knowledgeable on Ghost Medicine like Frostbite was but that didn’t mean he couldn’t help out a little. He practically exuded excess ectoplasm that Jason could naturally cycle in to help filter out whatever is making his core sick. The fracturing…that’d be fixed when Danny figured out his obsessions and ways to feed them properly. “Anything else, sir? I do have a second song to sing.”

Jason growled. Full stop, from the throat growled. Danny’s eyes lit up green at the noise, something that clearly came directly from his core. His boss at least had the humanity to look embarrassed by the noise, attempting to cover it up by coughing and clearing his throat. “Of course, please do not let me hinder your work. The crowd loves you already.” He paused, as if to say more, and Danny tilted his head, waiting. Instead, Jason shook his head, turned on his heel, and all but fled somewhere else in the lounge. Oh well, Danny would be seeing him again to get his pay and probably again even later when he went out as the Red Hood. He couldn’t wait~