#there’s not so much sappy stuff yet but that will definitely come

[kitkatsudon]

fated au chapter 1 inspired doodles that I’ve done while either bored in lectures or procrastinating my uni work <3

taeseob doesn’t actually look like that, he looks like yeo jingoo but i didn’t have it in me to try again when i was already, yk, meant to be working. redoing the drawing as if I cared about it would defeat the object of doing a silly quick doodle that will just be a small brain break before going back to my work

[alllgator-blood]

'FOGGY STREETS AND CHRISTMAS LIGHTS'

(part 3/3)

I'm gonna infodump about the backstory of this comic, don't feel obligated to read it because it's not cotl related it's just personal stuff, I just want to be able to write about it somewhere cause I can't really talk to anyone about it.

As always, thanks for reading this far, sorry my stuff has been such a bummer so consistently. This comic goes out to all my "christmas induced depression" homies, I left my house maybe like ~5 times all month and it was NOT pleasant hearing "IT'S THE MOST WONDERFUL TIME OF THE YEAR!!" on the radio when I'm so ready for it to be over. Gonna take it reaaaaal easy til the year ends, you guys take it easy too!! Got some asks I have to respond to when I'm more stable but probably no new comic pages til january

Alright uhhh so this part of the comic is pretty much taken directly from the last time I saw my great-grandma alive, a few days before christmas. She didn't remember me, but at the nursing home there was a piano, and I sat down and played some stuff because I didn't know what to say. I was really into lisa the painful rpg at the time, and I played that "I've got the joy" song that the villain sings without realizing it was an old christian campfire song. She didn't really say much or move that whole night, just kind of gave me a polite blank smile, but started singing the words when I played the notes to that song.

I kinda stopped in shock, my dad frantically asked me to keep playing, so I did. While the comic I made is way more sappy than the actual moment was, I wish I'd cherished the moment longer. I didn't know it was the last time I'd see her alive. Every family christmas was held at her house when she was around, so it's been weird the past few years. I actually lost another dementia-addled grandma to cancer on christmas eve in 2009, so the holiday was already kind of weird for me on top of everything else that makes me sad this time of year. That's what part 2 was about, I'll spare the details but I wrote leshy to act out how I felt back then. Why are we all sad? This is supposed to be a happy time, all the decorations are up and we're almost all here, so why is everyone smiling yet everything feels so wrong? I feel like since leshy's canonically the most ignorant one to things lurking below the surface, he'd be the one to try and make everyone feel better but not quite understand why everyone is so miserable. My first memory of having self injurious behavior came from then, hence why I had leshy pull his leaves off in the last comic. It was confusing and frustrating and I was just old enough to comprehend something was wrong, but not old enough to understand the depth of it, it DEFINITELY didn't help that nobody helped me back then so I made leshy's siblings actually come in clutch instead of grabbing him/yelling at him.

That night with the piano was something that's stuck with me the few years she's been gone, but I felt kind of strange when I asked my dad and my sister about it and neither of them remembered it. The room we were in was completely empty so nobody else witnessed it but us three. I myself have a history of head trauma and memory loss (plus, native americans are disproportionately more likely to develop dementia... lucky us) so if I ever forgot about that moment, there'd be nobody left to remember it. Sometimes when I do comics, it's my way of going "this happened at some point, and the only evidence it ever happened was me witnessing it, so if something happens to me I want the memory to stay alive in some form."

Anyway. The autistic urge to overshare, am I right? Idk what my religious ass great-grandma would think of me drawing demonic comics about my last memory of her, she'd probably think it's funny though cause she raised my dad whose interests have always been "death metal and devil worship". I'm not sure if anyone read this far, I just hope my dumb comics can convey the things I can't say with my voice and struggle to say through text. None of this was supposed to be "feel bad for me!! Woe is me!!", it was supposed to me more like...cathartic? Healing? I almost didn't post this comic because it felt kinda weird, but seeing people connect with it made it worth it imo. Thank you

[unreleasedwrites]

drabbling about lookism characters’ love languages

pov: lookism characters love languages

character(s) included: multiple; Daniel Park, Zack Lee, Warren Chae, Euntae Lee/Vasco, Hudson Ahn, Jace Park, Jake Kim, Sinu Han, Jay Hong, Eli Jang, Kwak Brothers, Johan Seong, Gun Park, Samuel Seo, Goo Kim, Cheon Taejin, Yujin Yoo, Baek Hangyeol, Diego Kang/DG

cw: my opinion, purposely repeated a bunch of characters, it gets pretty damn suggestive on the portion for physical touch— lots of hints of physical intimacy, long descriptions cuz i had a lot to say lol, it starts to get a little messy and pretty bad at the end, sorryy 😭😭 If you’re reading on a phone, like me, you’ll be seeing 19 lines per description (idk what it looks like for other devices)

unwrapped on: Thursday Evening, August 24 2023

wrapped up on: Thursday Evening, August 31 2023

published on: Thursday Night, August 31 2023 (at around 11 PM)

Words of Affirmation

Doesn’t matter what time of day it is, this man will be reassuring you 24/7. He sends the sweetest text messages out of nowhere just to be sure you’re doing good and remember how much you matter to him. Is constantly reminding you over and over again of how precious you are, whether you’re on facetime, voice call, or with one another. Has never missed a day of encouraging you to keep going in any situation you might’ve gotten into. You are constantly smothered with such sweet compliments & phrases whenever you’re with him. Writes extremely long and thoughtful letters to you, whether he’s just giving you an unexpected letter, or it comes with a gift he gave. He doesn’t repeat his words and phrases neither, they’re always unique and different every time, yet they’re always GENUINE. He knows his way around words & being a romantic yet sappy sweetheart, so expect to receive the cutest compliments and affirmations. He always lights up all of your worries and gets rid of any doubt you have in situations. He isn’t afraid to shower you with words in anywhere public either, it doesn’t matter where you are with this man, he will always be reassuring you with sweet words.

Vasco, Jake Kim, Hudson Ahn (i know he doesn’t really seem to be the type to do this but I feel like he’s always being told those type of words n stuff sooo), Daniel Park (Is trying his best), Kwak Jichang, Sinu Han, Jace Park, Warren Chae, Baek Hangyeol

Acts of Service

Loves doing things for you, he likes the thought that you’d have one less problem with him around.— He doesn’t even have to be there, you’d randomly find sticky notes in your favorite color on your fridge and counters, with the wonky writing you can easily recognize as his. They’re reminders of things you mentioned to him that you were afraid you might forget about, and things you told him you needed to do. Often times, it would just have some phrase like “Your welcome! <3” or “I was here fyi and I did some things for youu -their name <3” Also helps you with chores a lot even though you’ve told him he doesn’t need to. On some days, when he knows you’re stressed/tired, he brings you breakfast in bed, or sometimes brunch. Even if he’s not a good cook, or even if he is, he loves to try and cook u a meal. He’s not the best with words so he makes up for it with his little GESTURES. Definitely a believer that actions speak louder than words, and he can and will prove it to you without you even noticing it. Will always hold the door open just for you before he enters, gives you his jacket/coat whenever you feel cold, lets you wear his shoes whenever he can tell yours are starting to hurt from walking in heels.

Daniel Park, Vasco, Jace Park, Warren Chae, Eli Jang, Hudson Ahn, Zack Lee, Kwak Brothers, Yujin Yoo (he’d prolly get some1 else to do it ngl), Jake Kim, Sinu Han, Jay Hong, Johan Seong (i feel thats the only way he can show his affection)

- Would do part of it if he really wanted to: (prolly like coat giving at the very least) Gun Park, Goo Kim, Cheon Taejin, Yujin Yoo, Baek Hangyeol, Diego Kang/DG

Gift Giving

Physically can’t show his love using words or gestures. This guy is no sweetheart with words nor is he a romantic when it comes to being in a somewhat committed relationship. Which is why— he does try to make up for it by buying presents to surprise you with. Specifically purchases objects that immediately reminded him of you when he first saw it. Isn’t used to showing the kind of affection that involves stepping out of their comfort zone. He js can’t get used to showing his love in any other way, yet this man still tries to bring something other than money spending to your guys’ relationship. Always has a new gift for you every time you two meet, mostly clothes and accessories— because he knows you love those. Knows it himself he’s gotta try showing his love in different ways, but he knows you’re fine and love him the way he is, so he doesn’t think much about it. Surprisingly likes going on shopping sprees with you— Normally, he won’t ever be seen holding someones shopping bags while he follows them around and happily pays. But you’re always an exception, just because he loves giving you gifts and spending MONEY on you. Is crazy rich too considering he does this.

JONGOO KIM, JONGGUN PARK, Samuel Seo, Yujin Yoo, Diego/DG, Cheon Taejin, Baek Hangyeol, Jay Hong (cuz he aint used to no typa affection)

Quality Time

Never gets tired or bored of spending TIME with you. Can’t go a day without you, whether you’re on face time together or you’re actually with one another. Has made it a routine to spend half of his day talking to you about absolutely anything that the both of you could be thinking of. The subject of your conversations with him doesn’t have to make sense, he’ll make sure the both of you are smiling or laughing at the nonsense that the two of you have been muttering for hours. Dedicated to spending as much time he can with you, it doesn’t even matter what time of the day it is or if there’s an occasion. He’s so genuine about it too, he always puts aside his phone so that he can give you 1 hundred percent of his undivided attention and you wouldn’t have to worry about him dozing off to something that is unimportant or unrelated to what the two of you are talking about. Is committed to keeping his eyes on you and is devoted to listening to your rants while he offers his complete sympathy instead of unwanted advice. Isn’t anywhere near good at saying goodbyes whenever you have to go your separate ways. You literally need a whole new person to take him away just so he’d go home.

Daniel Park, Zack Lee, Warren Chae, Euntae Lee/Vasco, Hudson Ahn, Jace Park, Jake Kim, Sinu Han, Jay Hong, Eli Jang, Kwak Brothers, Goo Kim, Cheon Taejin, Hudson Ahn

Physical Touch

It’s almost like this man was deprived of physical touch. Like, he can’t keep his hands off of you, even for a single moment. From the first time you met him, to the minute you agreed to become his girlfriend— You easily figured how much he values physical touch when it comes to you. A waist grabber, whether you were expecting it or not, he’d randomly sneak up behind you, holding your waist as he buries his face in the crook of your neck. Loves covering every inch of your body with kisses and bite marks. He also loves hugs, he values them a whole lot and views them as a sign of trust and comfort. Without a doubt, you shouldn’t let go of his hand at anytime that you guys are doing so, if you do, he’ll probably be quite upset with you and even go as far as to throw some silly tantrum. This guy either values physical touch cause he feels a genuine and sweet connection between you or, he’s js the type to be in the mood 24/7 and is down bad whenever your with him. One or the other, this man is absolutely obsessed with seeing your reaction to him teasing or tempting you. Passionate kisser, one hundred percent sure of it. Is the type to shower you with physical AFFECTION, knowing you won’t get sick of him.

- Down Bad: JONGOO KIM, JONGGUN PARK, Samuel Seo, Cheon Taejin

- Genuine and Sweet: Warren Chae, Euntae Lee/Vasco, Jake Kim, Sinu Han, Kwak Jihan, Kwak Jibeom, Kwak Jichang, DG, Zack Lee

notes: I made this on my phone and if you happen to also be reading this on your phone, does all the ends look nearly aligned? Like— I try my very best to alter the words to the point it’d fit without going into the next line below already, so that there wouldn’t be a some large or medium gap/space and so it’d look pleasing to the eye and arranged. (to me atleast lol) Idk if that made sense but I purposely do this with whatever i write because i just hate the weird looking blank space on the side. Heres an example: v

I love when they’re

already so near the

edge/corner, that i

don’t even have to

alter the sentence

^ Thats what I like seeingggg, I don’t actually care about them when it isn’t my work, I don’t even notice them— but if im the one writing, then i do care even though only phone users will see my effort i think, but idk its just my habit since i like the sight?

Heres what I feel like I gotta change when i’m writing: v

I really hate when

I do have to alter the

word’s because they’re

all lookin messy

kinda like this where they’re

so far off of being

even

^ Thats what yall might be seeing but i really dont know if it actually is and i sure as hell hope it isn’t though 😭😭

Also this took a while so hope it’s alright even though it might be a lil long

There was more stuff I wanted to place here but I can’t remember 💯

- With or without proper credits, please don’t try to steal or claim any of my works as your own

I genuinely appreciate opinions, feedback, likes, and reblogs, as this is my fourth ever post on this blog.

Once again, I hope this isn’t too bad for my fourth work and I will be doing more of these drabbles if I have the motivation & time 🫶

[captain-mj]

Can we get a cowboy hat rule one short with a shop of your choice? Or a part 3 for the stripper AU did Ghost finish thinking about Soaps offer of dating? 👉👈🥺

Part 1 Part 2

Stripper au!! I can definitely do that!! They fuck in this one finally

Alejandro threw open Soap's office door before closing it with just as much gusto. "I have a date with Rodolfo!!"

Soap smiled. "That's great!"

Alejandro nodded. "I'm so happy. Something must have changed his minds, but he's finally said yes."

Soap had a funny feeling of a certain Simon Ghost Riley was behind it but he didn't say anything. "Good. Where do you plan on taking him?"

"Nicest restaurant I can. I'm going to be woo him." Alejandro grinned.

Soap nodded. "Have fun dude! I'm happy for you." He watched Alejandro leave, going straight to Gaz's office. Once he was sure he was gone, he texted Ghost. "Thanks for Ale."

"It was mostly for myself. Rudy was upset he hadn't come back in a few days. Said I could pull some strings if he'd finally ask the guy out."

"Well, thanks anyway."

"Of course, Johnny."

Soap stared at the text message for a minute, trying to think of a response when Ghost sent a follow up text.

"I've been thinking."

"Made a decision?"

"You really have no ulterior motive other than getting dicked down. It's funny."

"No, no. Not just dicked down. I want to wine and dine you too."

Ghost took a while to respond. "You a gentleman, huh? Alright. Come to my office."

Soap rushed out and over to Ghost's office. He knocked excitedly and Ghost opened the door. His mask was up and he was in a dark green cardigan that looked oversized despite how big he was.

Simon was... well. Dorky. Soft. Always dressed in comfy but still dark clothing.

Johnny felt such a rush of affection for him. Simon lost a tiny bit of the confidence he had when he saw the lovestruck look on Johnny's face.

"Stop that."

"Stop what?"

"Being sappy. Do I have to take my shirt off to seem cool to you?"

"Nah, but I do think it would be nice."

Simon rolled his eyes and motioned for him to come in. Johnny did what he was supposed to and followed after him, grinning like an idiot.

Ghost sighed and locked the door. "Fine. I'll date you. Only because you've been so cute about it."

Soap threw his hands up in a cheer before quickly bringing them back down when Ghost turned to look at him. He got to see him laugh.

Simon took his mask off carefully. "It's okay. If you need to do a little celebration, I'd love to watch." The scarring. It look old, clearly stuff from childhood even if Soap couldn't think of a reason why a child would have a snake that close to their face.

Johnny smiled. "Nae, I'm much more interested in the bonnie in from of me."

"Bonnie?"

"Means pretty."

Soap felt his heart skip a beat in his chest at Ghost's blush. His whole face turned red, all the way down his neck. "Shut up."

"Aye? You're bashful?"

Ghost scoffed but he couldn't hide it.

Soap grabbed his cardigan carefully, not wanting to move too fast just yet. "You do look nice. Thought I'd say it in the Queen's english in case you had any doubts."

Ghost looked down at him and shook his head. "I'm already regretting my decision."

Before Soap could think of something clever or even something smart, Ghost leaned down a little. He kissed Soap's cheek. "Maybe you can give me the lap dance next time. So we're even."

Soap turned bright red and had to look away.

Ghost laughed. "Now who's a bashful bonnie."

Soap swiped at him and laughed. "Oh fuck off. So our first date."

"I was thinking right now. Coffee."

"This is why you're the man for me, Ghostie."

Ghost hit his shoulder but without his mask, Soap could see him blushing. Before they departed, Ghost unfortunately put the mask back on, fortunately though, he did let Soap get a kiss before he did.

Soap followed him like a moth to a particularly bright lamp. He sat with him at a coffeeshop and ordered his drink before talking with him for a few minutes.

Then hours.

Then it hit night and they were still there. Talking.

The poor barista had to gently tell them they needed to leave since the place was closed.

"Want dinner?" Soap asked, smiling at him.

Ghost nodded. "I could eat."

Somehow, they ended up at Soap's place. Soap was pressed to his counter, Ghost kissing frantically down his neck and chest.

Ghost picked him up by his thighs and put him on the counter, kissing him properly without having to lean down. He slotted perfectly between Soap's thighs.

Soap pulled away, putting his hand firmly on Ghost's chest. "Simon."

"Yes?"

"I don't actually know how to lap dance. I'd just sit there like a dead fish."

Ghost stared at him, almost unnervingly long before kissing him. "God you're such a loser."

"Hey-"

Ghost started to unbutton his pants and Soap quickly shut up. He closed his eyes and groaned once Ghost finally got a hold of him. He had been thinking of this moment for weeks. Ever since he saw those leather bound thighs and lovely abs.

Soap had to stop him again though and Ghost glared, clearly telling him he better not be making another joke. "Don't want your hands."

Ghost leaned in, noses bumping each other. He then threw Soap over his shoulder and carried him towards the bedroom. He dropped Soap on the bed, watching him bounce before going through his drawers. "Where do you keep your lube?"

"Bottom drawer."

"Good boy."

Soap groaned and started to kick off all of his clothing. He grabbed one of his pillows and got comfortable on his stomach.

Ghost looked him over appreciatively once he found his target. He got on top of Soap and pressed him down a little. With one hand, he pulled his ass up, squeezing.

His hands were skillful and patient as they got Soap ready. Soap was not patient at all, thrashing and pushing himself back and telling Ghost to please speed it up.

Ghost ignored him, working him open over and over again. He took the rest of his clothing off and set it on top of Soap's clothing. He laid on top of him and pushed in, holding Soap in a death grip.

Soap buried his face in the pillows and groaned. "Holy fuck you're big." He arched his back, determined to get Ghost as deep as he could.

Ghost put his hand on the back of Soap's neck to pin him and rocked his hips gently. "Thank you. People at the club certainly like it."

Soap's eyes flashed and then narrowed. He pressed further back and grabbed Ghost's other hand, kissing it. The two of them moved back and forth in sync, something just working between them.

Soap groaned and his body tightened when he tensed. Ghost pressed tighter against his back and, although he was quiet, he was right in Soap's ear so he could hear him. Small groans and curses.

Soap bit his wrist and he arched. He tried his best to be quiet, but Ghost was dragging out noises Soap didn't know he was capable of making. Every thrust or grind was in just the right spots and Soap was pretty sure he only lasted as long as he had out of the fear of embarrassing himself.

Ghost sped up though and Jesus wept.

Soap came hard, untouched and so flustered he was sure Ghost could tell it wasn't all from exertion.

Ghost breathed gently right next to his ear. "Good lad. Let it all out for me."

Fucking hell.

Soap closed his eyes and felt his cock twitch.

"Is it okay if I come inside?"

He nodded quickly and bit the pillow as Ghost slammed into him. His eyes rolled back as he started to get overstimulated but he wanted, needed, Ghost to finish in him.

Ghost wrapped both arms around him and buried his face in his hair as he came, squeezing tight.

Soap reached up and ruffled his hair.

[britcision]

Hey guys

I have present for you

Not sure if there will be a WIP Wednesday this week since I’m con crunching and we leave on Thursday, soooo… this will tide you over I’m sure! The completed chapter 15!

Previous Chapter:

First chapter and AO3 link:

————-

I’ll Take The Highway

Time was almost slipping away too quickly in the milkshake bar, and Danny wished he didn’t have to keep an eye on it.

(Well. Seriously hoped. Even in the privacy of his head, he couldn’t make it a wish.)

He had to get Tucker back to MIT though, and back to Gotham in a reasonable time frame to get to bed before class tomorrow.

If he got to bed before midnight, there might be a chance for he and Jason to run to the Far Frozen in the morning. Or after, Danny’s classes didn’t run late. Or…

He was missing out on the fun today, trying to plan tomorrow. Much as Jazz would love him being more organised, he pushed it to the back of his mind.

They’d visit Frostbite soon. And find out how Jason’s core was, though Danny was beginning to think he knew. Here, when Jason was happy and relaxed? Not tensed, shut down, or angry?

Danny could definitely feel something he hadn’t before. Not exactly the same as another ghost, or any of the other halfas, not yet.

But it was almost like Box Lunch’s fresh core seen through a house of mirrors.

Maybe that was what had him so close to the edge today? It was taking some pretty serious effort not to react to even the mention of an old threat to Jason.

Jason, the sweet baby ghost.

And if his smile was a little sappy at that thought, well, that was no one’s business but his own. At least he had something to sit on for when his rogues started embarrassing baby stories.

Finally he couldn’t put it off anymore. Too much to do, friends to fly across country, and he still hadn’t found a good way to ask Waylon his question. He just… well.

He’d given Jason all the server info, the stuff about who his rogues were, how he beat them, the things they’d learned about the Infinite Realms. They’d even shared some stories around different bits.

That didn’t exactly explain what he wanted to ask Waylon about. And it really wasn’t something he was comfortable sharing just yet, even if he already knew it was dumb.

Jason was a good guy. Who hung out with Batman, who was apparently an asshole. He wouldn’t judge Danny for having some dark and fucked up stories in all the zany ones.

Fuck, maybe Waylon could tell him how Jason would react. It was gonna come up, it’d have to, and Danny really would feel better having someone else’s opinion.

He was reluctant to interrupt their good time, another story devolving into laughter, but it was getting into the afternoon and… well, he also had no idea how long this would take.

“Hey, uh, by the way. I’ve gotta head out in a bit, dropping Tuck back off in Massachusetts, I just wanted to talk to Waylon for a minute first? In private?” Because if Danny had learned one thing?

Direct worked best.

It worked now, Harley nodding along and hopping up, cartwheeling her way along the table and out of the booth.

“Say no more, Danno! C’mon, Jayjay, I wanted ta catch up with you on somethin’ too, so this works perfectly!” She declared cheerfully, giving Jason a fond tug to his fluffy white streak of hair.

Jason shot Danny a look that was half commiserating, half curious as he slid out of the both after her, but Danny was too busy staring into an imagined hellscape where Harley met Jack Fenton.

Fuck Dan, the world couldn’t handle that.

By the time he came back to himself, he and Waylon were alone in the booth, the big man watching him curiously.

“So, what’s on yer mind, kid?” He asked in a low voice, folding his arms on the edge of the table and leaning in.

Secret villain hideaway or not, this wasn’t something Danny wanted just anyone overhearing, so he beckoned Waylon closer to his end of the booth first, tucked into the wall.

The big guy slid his way surprisingly delicately down the seat, then leaned in again, watching Danny expectantly.

Which was when Danny realised he shoulda probably thought about a good way to put this.

Blunt it was gonna have to be.

“So… you… Harley said people called you Killer Croc before you ever hurt anyone?” He said in a rush, flinching at how bad it actually sounded said aloud.

Waylon… did not have eyebrows to raise, and it was really fucking weird that he was noticing that now, but it was definitely what he’d been doing, and Danny was distracting himself again.

“They did,” Waylon agreed a moment later, his voice low and even. Guard up, but not defensive. Not closing the topic off.

Danny huffed out a sigh, and found he couldn’t quite meet the man’s eyes. Found himself intently examining the diamond pattern on the formica tables. His own hands, twisting in front of him over that pattern.

“You… you became what they said you were. A monster.” The words caught in his throat, hard to spit out and shit he thought he was past this.

It had been years.

A scaled green hand covered his, and Danny found himself surprised by how smooth the scales were. Far from soft, but not rough. Almost smoother than the table.

“Who called you a monster, kid?” Waylon asked softly, his voice gruff with something too close to understanding.

Danny’s head snapped up and he shook it quickly, sucking in a deep breath.

“Oh, no one. Not for like, a really long time now. And they said sorry and everything, it’s not that. It’s… you gave into it. Let them make you something wrong and dangerous, and you stopped. How did you stop?” He asked quietly, finally finding it easier to look at Waylon’s face.

He looked surprised.

**

Finding Jason had been harder than usual. He’d never turned his phone back on after last night, and Bruce was still wrestling with one of his least favourite (and most common) side effect of a concussion; light sensitive headaches.

Even with the screen brightness all the way down, it was hard to even look at the batcomputer while he waited for Constantine to arrive.

None of his usual tricks were helping, spikes of pain jabbing behind his eyes every time he tried to scan the cameras for Jason’s presence.

It was Babs who found him in the end, taking her lunch at the library late to help him out. She had whole programs to scan the security cameras of Gotham for her, trained to recognise any bat or rogue from any angle.

False positives happened, but usually didn’t take more than a look to confirm or deny. They were extremely accurate.

Bruce would know.

He had copies of the same programs.

They just weren’t running properly.

He was probably still tired. He’d been pushing himself while injured, as usual, and as usual Alfred would be eager to tell him he’d been overtaxing himself too hard to work efficiently.

And then Constantine was late.

By the time the magician arrived, Bruce was regretting having taken a break to sleep at all. He should have sorted this out last night, before ever calling Jason.

They could have picked a time to meet, and while Bruce was fully aware Jason might have just told him to fuck off, he might not have. Especially if Bruce had promised to leave him alone.

He knew better than to ask Jason to introduce Danny to Constantine.

Barbara had generously kept an eye on Jason in the interim, and by the time Batman and Constantine were ready to go he seemed to have settled in Freeze’s place.

The Frozen Fields. Named for his wife, who Bruce’s top scientists still wouldn’t be able to save.

Along with Harley, Waylon Jones, and Danny.

Of course he was with Danny.

Half the city seemed to be intent on frustrating him today. They’d taken the Batmobile, and while he tended to only drive it in emergencies (and after dark), it still barely sped the journey through the city traffic.

It always felt wrong, sitting and waiting with the rest of the cars in the Batmobile. Didn’t match the “lurking justice in the shadows”. Which Constantine was quick to remind him.

Bruce just gripped the steering wheel tighter, sucked in a deep breath, and nearly bit his tongue when they finally edged up to an intersection only for the light to turn red.

**

Waylon sat back in his seat, back scraping against the wall of the booth as he surveyed the kid in front of him.

Little squirt was tougher ‘n he looked, that much was definitely true. Harley had given him the short run down on their way to the milkshake bar, all the powers she knew he had.

And that he’d been hunted by his folks for a while. Waylon knew how that kinda shit could mess ya up.

He appreciated the heads up too, cuz this kinda shit coming up outta nowhere? Also pretty damn rough. He’d wondered if the kid just wanted to come along for another fight.

If he just wanted another chance to say he’d looked Killer Croc in the eye.

But there was no real bravado there, not even when he challenged Waylon to a rematch. Shit, the kid treated him more normal than most of his henchmen had ever managed to.

Made sense, knowing he was part a ghost an’ fought ghost rogues, but it left Waylon wondering. Apparently he was getting his answer.

Same damn question he’d asked himself a thousand times, ‘specially around the kind of young vigilantes who’d taken a turn to the bad.

Didn’t mean he had a good answer.

He regarded the kid for a long minute, watching the fidgeting, the sudden shyness from a boy who’d literally tackled him from behind on a whim.

This wasn’t just an idle question. Something made him sure of that, and he’d never been involved in all that much of the really weird shit. You heard stories, especially in Arkham.

So he decided to give the kid the best answer he had.

“Cuz I was the worst version of myself. I let myself be the monster they thought I was, got pretty good at it. But it never made me happy.” He paused, mulling it over.

Chuckled softly and looked down into his half drunk milkshake. It was kinda funny how obvious it seemed, in hindsight.

“Shit, there was never even anythin’ I wanted. Not like Penguin, Freeze, or the others. People treated me like a monster so I tried to be one, cuz why the hell not? Couldn’t be worse, could it?”

His gaze shifted back to Danny’s face, watching the kid’s expression. No judgement, which was nice. But he did look confused.

“So you just… got sick of it?” Danny asked, his brows furrowed as he played with his fingers.

Waylon chuckled and shook his head.

“Kinda. Spent a while thinkin’ if people couldn’t treat me with respect, fear’d do. But it ain’t the same. An’ I never had the drive or creative cruelty to stand out in Gotham.”

Danny looked a little incredulous at that, eyebrows rising, but he caught himself before commenting. Snickered and shook his head.

“Yeah, I guess being in a city that’s used to people like Scarecrow and the Joker puts “big and green” into perspective,” he agreed dryly, and Waylon laughed.

It felt good to laugh.

“Oh yeah. City’s got more than its share of low level thugs anyway. I spent a while as extra muscle for the big boys, but I ain’t the takin’ orders sort,” he explained with a modest shrug.

Danny grinned, folding his arms on the table and leaning forward.

“What, a shy and retiring guy like you?” He asked, clearly teasing, and Waylon waved a hand dismissively.

“I’m lucky it was Gotham,” he added after a moment, reflection sobering his mood. “Got sent t’ Arkham. Met Harley. An’ the Bat’s not all that bad. He tried gettin’ me outta the life a couple times.”

Danny cocked his head, a slight frown returning to his face. Following Waylon’s lead.

“How did Batman try and get you out?” There was a little too much intensity for it to be a casual question, and Waylon noted it. Not that he’d figure it out on his own.

Just tryin’ to make sure he didn’t damage the kid.

“Oh, there were a couple ways. Got me moved down to Florida once. Out in the green, away from people. I figured bein’ a wild animal might be more my speed, but it wasn’t. An’ it got messy when I left. Like that whatever he tried, really. There’s lines you can’t uncross.”

Lines like being a cannibal.

Not that he was sobbin’ on a preacher’s shoulder about it. Most of the people he’d eaten were assholes who’d deserved it, and it’d been a preference, not a need.

For all people loved to go on about him eatin’ kids and babies, he’d never actually done it. A guy had to have standards.

Made it easy to stop, once he was in a better head space. He and Harley had talked a lotta old shit out.

Kid didn’t need to know those grisly details though, at least not from his own mouth. Watching Danny a moment longer, Waylon came to a decision.

“Look, kid. There’s a lotta reasons people go bad. Some of ‘em can’t be helped. But if they’re not gettin’ anything out of it, if there’s no goal? The appeal runs out. And sometimes all it takes is someone willin’ to reach down an’ haul yer back up to the light.”

He wouldn’t ask if that was the case with whoever the kid wanted to help. Everyone heard stories, ‘specially about heroes meeting their evil selves.

The fear looked personal, but the asking coulda been for anyone. Waylon was in no rush to judge.

Danny mulled over his words for a while, lips moving soundlessly as he frowned down at the table. This time when he looked up, there was a peace in his eyes.

He’d come to a decision. Good for him.

“Thanks, Waylon. You seem like a pretty great guy to me,” he said simply, and Waylon definitely did not feel a lump in his throat.

“This is after years o’ Harley workin’ on me,” he grumbled gruffly. Shaking his head, he slurped down the last of his milkshake quickly.

Nothing like brain freeze to explain being a little misty eyed.

**

Jason didn’t exactly object to being led out of the bar by Harley; Danny wanted to talk to Waylon in private.

Jason had figured Danny had something to ask the guy about. He hadn’t exactly expected not to be part of the conversation, but that was fine.

He’d know if Danny got into trouble. Fuck, Danny could handle any trouble Gotham could dish out, probably. And the rogues had some basic manners; not starting shit in Freeze’s place was one of them.

Penguin might put the squeeze on and make your life uncomfortable if you lit up the Iceberg Lounge. Dr Freeze’s cold shoulder was a lot more literal, and he didn’t do “proportional response”.

So yeah, he could be cool and give Danny some space.

It wasn’t exactly a surprise that Harley wanted to talk to him either, although he still didn’t see the point. But he let her guide him around the side of the building to a back alley anyway.

“Still fine, Harley,” he said before she could get started, both hands raised in front of him.

She gave him an all too knowing look and hopped up to sit on the dumpster. Put her about a head taller than him. Not that he cared.

“Sure, kid. You’ve been goin’ through a lot though, so I gotta ask; is there anythin’ ya wanna talk to Auntie Harley about?” She asked in her sweetest voice, interlacing her fingers under her chin and batting her lashes.

Jason snickered and leaned against the other side of the alley.

Shit, he wasn’t even annoyed with her play acting. The pit was a happy little puddle in his chest, all sunshine and roses.

A week ago he’d have walked away. Been pissed at wasting his time, getting in his way. How much of that had been because of the Lazarus pits, the problems with the ectoplasm he’d apparently been supposed to be solving?

Was that why nothing had ever been enough? Why he always had to keep pushing? Carve himself a patch of Gotham, keep going. Cut the crime out of Crime Alley, not enough.

Take up with the Outsiders, keep himself busy, rushed off his feet so that when he fell into bed for a couple hours a day he didn’t even dream?

When was the last time he’d taken a breath and just… relaxed? It all felt so long ago, but it had barely been a week.

It just. His whole life had unclenched, like it was a muscle he’d finally stopped using.

Fuck, maybe he should talk to Harley about it.

He got the feeling she knew though, those eagle eyes tracking his every move. They’d never really hung out, but he was uncomfortably aware of how well she’d known him.

How much of him was still the boy she’d known?

She was waiting for an answer, and all of a sudden Jason wasn’t sure what he’d say. Knew that if anyone in the world understood, it just might be Dr Harleen Quinzel.

He sighed and rubbed at the back of his neck, unable to meet her eyes. Fuck, he was getting as bad as Bruce.

And if that thought didn’t kick him up the ass…

“You ever wake up one day and realise your whole life’s been going wrong?” He finally asked, glancing up from the corner of his eye.

She’d dropped the cutesy act, leaning forward with her arms braced on the edge of the dumpster, her face professionally calm. Open. Sympathetic.

“Think I might know just a lil about what that’s like,” she agreed softly, and Jason snorted.

“Yeah. Well. Turns out ever since I came back from the dead I’ve been haunted. Literally. And no one ever noticed.”

He hadn’t even come all the way back, but he couldn’t say that. Not yet. But maybe he could share some of the rest.

Harley nodded slowly, giving him her full attention. Just waiting for him to go on.

It kinda felt like being under a microscope, but not in the cold, analytical way Bruce did that always pissed him off. Like she really cared, and was looking for all his broken parts so she could help him fit them back together.

Fuck, if his kid self had ever known he’d one day trust Harley Quinn over the whole Justice League…

Shit, he didn’t even know how much she already knew.

“The pit rage… it’s a psychosis people get, coming out of the Lazarus pit. Makes you angry, violent, stronger, like a blind rage. For most people it goes away. Mine didn’t.”

He almost wanted to laugh, bitter and sharp.

“Because it wasn’t just the psychosis. I’m not fucking weak, I’m not fucking broken, there’s something else living inside me and it made me so fucking angry all the time…”

The frustration was building again, but this time it was his. All his, not a bubble, not a stir, and part of Jason thrilled with it. He could feel however he wanted, just him.

He cut it off though, forcing himself to relax before Danny could notice. Could worry about whatever he was projecting in his aura.

He could kinda still feel Danny’s, which was new. Not brushing against his, not touching like they were close, but he was aware in a way he hadn’t been before.

Like if he shut his eyes he could point in exactly the direction Danny was standing.

“Danny’s the only one who noticed. Well, really, he’s the only one who could. It’s a ghost thing, and he… he got me help. I feel like myself for the first time since… since I came back.”

He hadn’t even noticed how much the background rage burnt through him until it stopped. Until he could look at his family and see their prodding for what it was; concern.

It was still surprising him, and maybe would for a while. Kinda hoped not though. It wasn’t the most cheerful train of thought.

Seeing that he’d run out of words, Harley gave him a moment to find more, then reached over and ruffled his hair. It was barely a strain in the cramped alley.

“Kid, anyone with two eyeballs t’ rub together can see Danny’s real good for ya. So why’s Bruce tryin’ so hard to keep ya apart?” She asked gently, and Jason snorted.

Rolled his eyes and folded his arms, caught himself doing it, and forced them back to his sides.

“Not rubbing his eyeballs together?” He asked dryly. Harley just snickered.

“Please, if we could get ‘im ta stop overanalysing everything that’d be the miracle. So what’s got ‘im on edge?”

Jason hesitated for a long moment, thinking about it. Finally he shrugged; as always, Bruce was a mystery to him. The man who’d taught him all the tricks to pick apart any mystery. Except himself.

“No idea. We played a prank on him and the Mansons at the gala like we told you last night?” He offered, already aware it wasn’t likely to be the answer.

Harley shook her head in agreement, which almost threw him off.

“Nah, you’re right. The whole making-out-in-a-closet shtick is classic, even if he didn’t see through it yet he’s never cared about you boys smoochin’ before,” she agreed, then sighed and tugged him in to press a kiss to his forehead.

“Whatever his problem is though, it is his problem Jason, an’ what he pulled at the gala has nothin’ t’ do with you or Danny. I already told ‘im off about not talkin’ to ya and I’m gonna do it again when I catch him. Right now I just wanna hear you say you know it ain’t your fault,” she told him firmly, cheeks held between both hands.

Jason fought the urge to roll his eyes. And the rising lump in his throat.

“I know Bruce’s bullshit isn’t my fault, Harley,” he grumbled through smushed lips. Harley squeezed his cheeks a little tighter.

“Then say it anyway. It ain’t your fault Brucie has a bug in his ass, and ya ain’t done anything wrong to deserve it.” She was firm as the wall behind him, utterly unrelenting.

And she could go on for hours, if memory served. Long enough for Danny to come out and see. That was why Jason told himself he gave in.

Nothing at all to do with the way her words ached and bled a gentle warmth into the icy void in his gut where the anger still roiled.

“It’s not my fault B’s got the emotional capacity of a wet newspaper. I don’t deserve his helicopter bullshit any more than anyone else,” he told her obediently, doing his best not to be too sarcastic.

Harley placed a kiss on his nose and released him.

“That’s my good boy. Now, more about this haunted thing. You boys got a plan?” She asked sharply, head cocked as she watched his face.

Cheeks red, Jason leaned back against his wall and pretended it made him out of reach.

“We do,” he said curtly, looking down at the trash strewn ground. Trying to explain it now would take too long, Danny would be out soon.

Of course Harley noticed, nodding thoughtfully and leaning back, kicking her legs.

“Well, if ya ever want to tell me more, you’ve got my number. An’ I’ll get Brucie off ya back for a while, even if I’ve gotta call in the Boy Scout. Whatever you aren’t tellin’ ‘im, don’t let ‘im rush ya,” she told him firmly. Jason had to smile.

“Aren’t you the one always telling us to communicate?” He asked half rhetorically. Harley grinned and hopped off her dumpster, making her way to the front of the alley.

“It only works if ya wait til you’re ready. Pushin’ an’ rushin’ only makes it worse,” she explained airily, stepping out into the street.

Turning, and freezing like a hound on a scent. Eyes narrowed, she patted Jason on the chest as he stepped out after her, not turning her head.

“Jason darlin’, be a dear an’ run get Auntie Harley her bat. The bike’s parked ‘round the back,” she said ever so sweetly, and that tone combined with the narrow eyed glare meant Jason knew exactly who she was looking at before he turned.

He did it anyway, eyes widening as he caught sight of Batman, in full gear, coming down the street towards them. Accompanied by John Fucking Constantine.

Had he seriously come to chase him away from Danny in person? In fucking costume?

The anger surged, his and the pit’s, held back only by the small woman in front of him. The dainty hand on her chest, that’d turn into an iron bar if he pushed it.

Sure, she couldn’t actually hold him back, but she didn’t need to. Whatever Jason wanted to say or do to Bruce, Harley could do a whole lot worse.

Anger melding into a vicious satisfaction, he turned straight back down the alley with a spring in his step.

**

Bruce was a little relieved to arrive outside the bar and see Jason already there. Batman walking in wouldn’t have been out of the question, but he’d rather avoid the theatrics.

Danny not being in sight didn’t come into the decision one bit.

But then Harley said something to Jason and he turned away, leaving immediately. Bruce sped up, planning to follow Jason down the alley-

“Hold ya horses, Batsy,” Harley snapped, stepping directly into his path. He could have gone around her, certainly, but he stopped.

If there was even a chance he could get her on side, that would help immensely.

“I just need to talk to Jason,” he said in Batman’s low growl. Constantine had stopped too, well back of whatever was going to happen.

At least he wasn’t a complete fool.

Harley folded her arms, giving him her very least impressed look.

“An’ if the words you’re sayin’ ain’t “I’m so sorry please forgive me I’ll never do it again”, ya don’t actually need to. Ya need ta speak to me.”

Bruce almost frowned at her words. Why now? They’d spoken before, but she’d seemed satisfied. What had changed between now and their last conversation?

Batman’s face remained impassive as ever.

“Harley. It’s important.”

“He wants me to give the kid a magic checkup,” Constantine put in from behind him, still well back. He waved at Harley when she glanced his way.

Harley’s eyes narrowed for a moment and then Jason was jogging back down the alley, holding her bat.

What the hell had changed since their last conversation?

Pinning Constantine with a piercing glare, she held it for a minute before turning her attention back to Bruce. Snapping her fingers in front of his mask before he could even open his mouth.

“Uh uh! Johnny needs ta talk to him fer that, not you. YOU need to come talk ta me. Now.” She held out her other hand without looking, and Jason slipped the bat into it.

Had he really upset Jason that much at the gala? He’d thought he understood about the public apology, but this felt… well, worse than he’d expected.

More urgent. More vehement. She was more angry than she had been.

He’d gone wrong again, some time between now and then, and he had a Justice League meeting in an hour. Less, counting in the travel time back to the nearest zeta terminal.

Did he have time for this?

Jason was glaring at him, flat and unfriendly, but with a decided undercurrent of anticipation. Bruce’s presence would only make Constantine’s job harder.

Ignoring the part of him that thought the magician deserved to have it a lot harder, he nodded and refocused his attention on Harley.

“Fine. Here?” Better to get this over with. He could put aside all of his personal thoughts and feelings for the meeting, but at least he’d have answers.

Harley gave the surrounding street another sharp look, then shook her head, crooked her fingers, and led him into the alleyway.

“We’ll go ‘round the back. You’re bad for business,” she told him archly, and Bruce followed without a word.

He didn’t tell Jason to stay and speak to Constantine; he was self aware enough to know that would have the opposite effect. The magician would just have to sort himself out.

Part of him almost hoped she would actually use the bat this time. It served its purpose as a visual symbol, but everything made much more sense when people just wanted to beat him up.

Navigating their emotions and separate interior lives and expectations was… messy.

**

Constantine and Jason stared at each other for a long moment after Harley and the Bat disappeared down the alley.

Then Constantine sighed and nodded after them.

“If they’re goin’ round back, we can take this off the main street. If you don’t mind?” Not that the boy had much choice.

They’d caught him unmasked, which raised again the fuckin’ question of why Batt-o was so intent on being masked up for this one.

Maybe he just didn’t want to change. It looked like a lot of kohl on under that mask. Probably took a while to switch in and out.

Jason narrowed his eyes back for a moment, then shrugged. His whole posture still screamed annoyance and aggression, but moved back into the side alley anyway.

“Whatever. Not too far though. I need to hear if my friends leave.” There was something about the agreement that didn’t quite sit right for John.

Too easy. He didn’t have much (any) experience with the kid, never having willingly gotten near a revenant, but… well, this? This was weirdly passive.

When he’d seen the kid coming back with a weapon, that had made sense. He’d half expected Jason to take a swing personally; the dead-or-dead-aligned tended to have a different understanding of acceptable violence.

Handing it off to Harley was basically trading a gun for a nuke, but he didn’t seem at all upset that it hadn’t been used. Hadn’t gone for Batman’s throat, no matter how much Harley seemed to think he’d be justified.

What the hell did the Bat do now?

Something was off with Jason, something that made Constantine almost rethink his earlier guess.

Kid dies, shows back up a couple years later in a storm of blood and violence, demanding revenge? Yeah, that was classic revenant. Physical body, jacked beyond anything the kid shoulda grown into? Ditto.

Even the rage the Leaguers reported checked the boxes, but a revenant shouldn’t be this calm. Not in the face of any kind of threat.

Good news, really; he probably wouldn’t go for Constantine’s throat. John was more than happy with that, though he did regret getting the Bat all worked up.

Not that there was another version of the story Batman might take better, mind. Whatever the hell Jason Todd was, the kid wasn’t human anymore, and for ol’ Batsy the rest of the details didn’t much matter.

They got out of sight of the main thoroughfare, Jason leaning back against a wall with his arms folded and a smirk on his face that was just all challenge.

Constantine didn’t rise to it, brows furrowing as he raised a hand and murmured the beginnings of a spell.

Felt it instantly crash around him, smacked down by a power so titanic he’d have fallen if the side of a dumpster hadn’t caught him. A power so old, so wrought with death, so fucking familiar that it blacked out every sense.

No way in fucking hell any kind of fucking revenant, wraith, zombie, ghost, anything could leave that taste in his mouth. No, that? That was a personal signature.

And not something that could be done lightly either. A power like that… no, this power, Constantine knew exactly whose it was.

This kind of power, reacting this strongly? This instantly, even here on Earth? That was the full force of the Infinite Realms, which had to mean…

Eyes wide and shaken, John scrabbled at the lid for support, staring at Jason. Who actually looked more than a little surprised himself.

It took him a moment to find the words, longer to steady the shake in his voice.

“You… you… holy fucking hells, Jason, do you have any idea what you’ve done? You’ve bound your fuckin’ soul to-”

“The same guy you sold yours to?” Jason drawled, raising an eyebrow.

And alright, fair, that was a pretty good fuckin’ point, but Constantine was well aware he was a dire warning, not a good example.

Damn hard to argue that to a smugly reclining something-or-other that had bound himself so tightly to that same king that John couldn’t even do a gentle magical probe.

He’d been planning on being polite and everything. Noninvasive, Jason wouldn’t even feel it.

Shit, had he felt the spell shut down too? Constantine was about to ask, but Jason wasn’t done talking. Or smirking, looking distinctly amused that he’d shut the mouthy magician up.

“Did you know he owns your soul eleven times by now? That seems a little low to me, surely you’re down to hocking scraps,” Jason noted with a dry chuckle.

Constantine shrugged defensively, well aware that his battered soul was nothing to write home about. Still mostly trying to work out what the fuck was going on.

What use would the Ghost King have for a bat? A use important enough to fold Jason, who’d only be risen six years, into the high court?

Sure, the kid was good, he’d proved that in Gotham’s underworld, but to the Realms? He was barely an infant, and cuttin’ off heads would not impress there.

“No one buys just a piece of a soul. Every deal’s for the whole thing, which is why they keep me alive rather’n letting me kick it and tearin’ up the bits,” he explained distractedly, giving Jason another slow once over.

The good news was, nothing about the guy smelled like a revenant. There was power there, sure, a hint of a magical signature just on the borders of recognizable, but he couldn’t quite pin it down.

Jason hummed in acknowledgement, or maybe interest, but Constantine needed him to keep talking. Needed more clues to work out what the fuck this guy was.

“Pretty sure I haven’t had anyone make the same deal eleven times though,” he commented cautiously, trying to appear as casual as Jason while watching him closely, wishing he’d accepted some bat-training, “most people only make that mistake once.”

“Yeah, I asked about that,” Jason agreed with a dry chuckle, and the bottom fell out of Constantine’s stomach.

A position that let him backtalk the king of the Infinite Realms? Triple not good, not least because that lot were volatile and fuckin’ possessive, but not more so than goddamn Batman.

“Apparently people handed you over for some kind of tax season. You’re a low value trading card over there at this point.”

And that knocked every other thought out of Constantine’s head as he straightened, unreasonably affronted.

It’d be fucking nice to be low value. People might ignore him.

And since when did the Infinite Realms collect taxes?

“Low value? Princes of Hell are fightin’ over my damn soul, it’s the only thing keeping me kickin’,” he protested, and Jason snickered.

Gave John a smug, superior smile.

“And ten entities gave your soul up for tax breaks. Let’s face it, it’s not like you have rarity on your side,” he pointed out smugly.

“It’s still only one soul,” Constantine pouted idly, his mind suddenly spinning mile a minute with the implications.

The kid couldn’t have had this much presence last night, whatever else was true. John would have noticed.

It might just have been now that he knew to look for it, but Jason practically glowed with the essence of the Realms. He’d also somehow not just gotten himself bound to the Ghost King, he had a position where he could question them.

And have his questions answered, if not hugely coherently. Maybe that was just the translation through Jason, though.

That could be a good thing. A good sign at least, for the temperament of the new king. Pariah Dark never listened to questions by all accounts; people never got the opportunity to ask. He just conquered.

Of course, John knew enough magical entities to know that “willing to talk” did not mean, friendly, helpful, safe, or even “not prone to constant and complex lies”.

Thing was, he could handle liars. Tricksters. Anything of the sort, usually, cuz if nothing else? Being willing to talk before shooting meant Constantine had a chance to confuse them.

He was bloody good at that, all else notwithstanding. Almost his most useful talent.

It might be worth trying to find a little more about the Ghost King. Doubly if Jason was willing to help, but that’d have to be careful. No way to know what the kid had accidentally sworn to on that soul bond.

Hell, how was he gonna work out what the kid even was with magic off the table? It’d be back to the fuckin’ books and Undead 101.

At least he was still in his own body. That put a limit on the possibilities, but there were still a lot of options. Bats was going to be unbearable.

Because worse yet… the one thing John did know, with absolute certainty, was that the kid was getting stronger. If he hadn’t manifested any powers yet, it was just a matter of time.

Whatever Jason was, whatever deal he’d managed to pull, the damn halfa wasn’t even the tip of the iceberg. Something was feeding the power in him, whatever had yanked him back to the land of the living to start with.

Plus side? Batty could get off his ass about the kids hanging out. Jason had already taken a fuckin’ jet across whatever influence hanging out with a ghost could do, and pushed right the way to the other side.

He might as well be fuckin’ drinking ectoplasm at this point. Kid could carry Danny around on his back and not make a lick of difference.

Course, if it was the halfa who got the kid to make his deal… well, Batman would have another reason to worry about them hangin’ out together, but the damage was already done.

It wasn’t a soul buy, not to John’s experienced eye. Not a leash around the kid’s neck, not a claim stamped into his being. If anything, this was worse.

Somehow Jason had gotten himself so tightly wrapped to the Ghost King that the other’s power all but flowed in his veins. Even from here, far from the Realms, Constantine didn’t even finish the spell before it was smacked down.

That… that was new. Nothing he’d ever seen before, and he was well used to possessive metaphysical assholes who didn’t like anyone else touchin’ their shit.

Fuck, did Jason even know?

Constantine sucked in a breath and gave damn near instantly on even trying to form a tactful question a bat would understand. Kid was playing in his kiddy pool now, like it or not, and John had to know how deep he’d gone.

“So what deal did you make?” He asked bluntly. Not that Jason apparently minded in the least, still smirking as he gave the magician a cool once over.

“Y’know, I’m pretty sure it’s rude to ask. Not discussing paychecks and all that,” he drawled casually, eyes still dark with that barely covered aggression.

Constantine rolled his eyes.

“I had three princes of Hell gettin’ a little too cozy and a cursed rock lookin’ to turn the world to pink tourmaline. The Ghost King was big enough to shut ‘em up and let me push the rock to a different dimension where it’s never gonna be our problem again. Now quit bein’ an ass, I know a lot more about this kinda shit and I can tell ya if they hid any clauses.”

That did shut Jason up, the kid’s eyes widening for a moment like he hadn’t expected Constantine to share.

Tough titties for him, John already knew Batman was gonna be a bitch about this so doing the due diligence early? Pretty much their only hope.

He considered it longer than John thought was justified, since it was inarguable. John Constantine, soul selling expert. He should have business cards made.

Finally the kid shrugged. He still looked prickly, defensive, but he was listening.

“Well I didn’t sell him my fucking soul.” Which.

John stared at him, mouth agape. Snapped shut and narrowed his eyes.

“Kid, you could not be more marked if you wore a neon sign. You signed something over, the Ghost King ain’t the sort to give prizes for free.”

A Ghost King Jason seemed to think was a he, so that was a useful little piece of intel. He’d definitely know better than John if they were already on ask-questions stage.

Jason scowled and shrugged, arms still crossed.

“Lucky me. Protection from big scary human wizards, for the low low price of my service. And some help with my Lazarus problem,” he added, as if the last was the only part he though worth mentioning.

Constantine sagged back against the wall, sinking down to sit on the alley floor. Bracing his elbows on his knees he ran both hands through his hair, holding his head up.

“Great… just fucking great,” he muttered, voice muffled by his new position. Part of him wanted to laugh, but he was pretty sure it’d come out a sob.

Hysteria beckoned.

Jason made another noise that might almost have been concern, and Constantine forced himself to suck in a breath. To keep it together.

Forced his head up so he could glare at the kid who now looked just way too confused.

“You get that that’s worse, right?” He snapped, eyes narrowing. “You get that selling yourself into service is fucking worse?”

Jason glared back down at him, drawing himself up like size and muscle was gonna impress a magician.

(It might have if Jason was a decade or two older, but not the way the kid intended.)

“What the fuck d’you think will happen when he takes your soul?” He snapped back, aggression rising fast enough that Constantine forced himself to stop again.

Deep breath in. Hold. Out.

One more in. Hold. Out.

He got to ten, the kid watching him with visible confusion, deflating the longer John went without pushing back. Yippee for him.

When he thought he had his voice under control again, John forced himself to his feet.

“I sell my soul, and if anyone ever actually claims the damn thing they can do whatever they want to it for eternity. It’ll fuckin’ suck, kid, but the one thing they can’t do, no matter who it is?”

He just sounded tired now, which only wrong footed Jason even more. Why had he even gotten out of bed at all?

Maybe if he left now he could just go back. Tuck himself up in the House of Mystery, feed his League communicator to something pandimensional, and just hide for a while.

The Bat would probably come after him.

Taking another bolstering breath, John did his best to sound calm. Not patronising. Because the kid damn near definitely had no idea.

Which was why people should leave magic to the fuckin’ professionals.

Catching Jason’s eye, he held it, hoping to impress the seriousness of what he was about to say into the kid’s soul.

“They cannot compel me to action. They can try all sorts of force, all sorts of fucked up shit, but I get the last say. They say jump, I say fuck off, no jump. But selling service?”

Jason’s eyes had widened now, and John could just see all those little wheels turning. Well, set the little fuckers spinnin’ faster.

“They say jump, you’re on the way up before you can ask “how high?”. I dunno what you think you signed up for, kid, I dunno what deals with the new king are like cuz I didn’t fuckin’ ask. But you get a copy of the damn contract and bring it back to me. I’ll see if there’s anything we can do about it.”

It was the only logical option, especially with an entity this powerful. Constantine was betting the kid’s hatred of being used, being controlled, would make him agree even if he hated it.

He probably could have been nicer, though.

Jason’s eyes flashed, actually flashed a bright, ecto green as he shot John a glare that promised bloody dismemberment.

There was something else too, something that definitely wasn’t there a second ago but filled the alley now. Something hot and angry and powerfully vicious, something that wanted his blood.

If there were space to back up, he would have. As it was, he let his hand slip behind his back, ready to teleport. He had no doubt that any kind of binding would meet exactly the same fate his inquiry had.

Even in civvies, Jason Todd cut a menacing figure as he stalked the two steps across the alley to put himself directly in Constantine’s face.

“For fuck’s sake, I am not a fucking child! I don’t need you to hold my hand, I don’t need your fucking help, and I don’t need your fucking permission to live my fucking life!”

Constantine actually leaned back, his head brushing the wall behind him as Jason shoved a finger into his face, his every muscle taut with barely restrained violence.

“Like you just fucking said, you don’t know shit! So maybe, just fucking once, the whole fucking lot of you sit the fuck down, shut the fuck up, and stay out of my fucking way!”

This close, Constantine could feel Jason’s hot breath on his face. This close… something clicked.

He could feel Jason’s anger, projecting out of him in a way that definitely wasn’t human. Choking and visceral and absolutely nothing like the pulsating bloody rage that forced itself down his throat.

There was something fucking else inside Jason. Something that tasted of the Infinite Realms and wanted his head on a stick.

Something that wasn’t the Ghost King. Didn’t carry the touch of his claim.

John was about to teleport away, fuck Batman and all of Gotham, when Jason turned around sharply and marched out of the alley. Almost like the kid was running.

Slumping back against the wall, John Constantine closed his eyes and breathed in the city smogs, only happy that none of it actively wanted his blood.

**

Harley let Batman precede her around the milkshake bar to the parking lot at the back, a quick glance confirming that they were alone.

For the best, really; anyone present might get entirely the wrong idea.

Taking a casual roll of the wrist for added momentum, Harley took a quick shot at the back of Batty’s knee, stepping up quickly beside him to use the return swing to catch him in the gut.

Caught off guard, he crumpled, landing on one knee and glaring up at her.

“Harley…” he growled, and her eyes narrowed.

She’d done this the nice way last night. He hadn’t listened, so now they were doing it his way.

“Batsy,” she shot back, cutting him off quick and direct. Tapped her bedazzled bat gently off her other hand. “We had us a talk already this week.”

No specific times; not in an unsecured location. He’d know anyway.

From his silence, he wasn’t quite ready to admit it. But he didn’t try to rise. Conflicted, then.

Like that was new.

Harley pressed the bat gently under his chin, tipping his head up to face her.

“And yet somehow, despite you assurin’ me you’d listened real close, a mister Jason Todd is out here tellin’ me you tried to ban him from hangin’ out with his new boyfriend?” She asked sugar-sweet, her expression all danger.

She could just about see the moment it sank into his head. Even with his actual eyes covered, that cowl was still plenty expressive.

Kinda freakishly expressive. Not ideal for the crime fighting to her mind, but what would she know? She much preferred committing the crimes.

He tried to argue, frown so deep he’d have wrinkles within the day.

“This has nothing to do with that, the Fenton boy is dangerous to his condition-”

Harley cut him off by poking the end of her bat almost into his mouth, her eyes narrowed. And sure, she was bein’ delicate with his head outta concern for that concussion, but there were limits.

“An’ what d’you think ya know about Jason’s condition that a half dead kid don’t?” She asked sceptically.

Batman hesitated. If he pushed the bat away, they’d have an actual fight on their hands. One he might let her win, if he just needed the tussle.

She’d never known a man so eager to have someone put him on his ass, and so incapable of ever lettin’ it actually happen. Well, other than Jason.

Musta run in the family.

Bruce sagged back, sat on the cracked asphalt of the parking lot.

“Constantine believes that Danny’s energy may strengthen something inside Jason. Something dangerous,” he explained, still in Batman’s rough growl.

She was gonna get him a vocoder. Just for shits and giggles.

Fuck, was that why Jason wore the whole helmet for Hoody? Now that she thought of it, there was a voice changer in there.

Two cranky little peas in matching muscly pods.

She dropped to sit cross legged on the ground across from him, bat laying in front of her. Talkin’ again, take two. Time to make it stick.

“Have you actually talked to Jason about this?” She asked sceptically.

The eye slits in the cowl narrowed. Harley was not impressed.

“Have you talked to him at all, since he an’ Danny have been hangin’ out?”

Bruce glared at her for a moment longer. Did not fold his arms or pout, but she could tell he wanted to.

“I spoke with him last night. He’s irrational, angry, unwilling to listen to reason…”

“He’s sick of ya tellin’ him you know what’s best and not listenin’ ta what’s wrong,” Harley corrected flatly.

Watched his shoulders sink just a little. As much as he could deflate in the suit. Even his growl lost most of its sandpaper.

“He said Danny was taking him to a doctor. More exposure to the realms could make things worse. Kill him, or give the pit another chance to take over. I can’t…” he cut himself off, voice tight and garbled around the forced gravel.

Harley watched him for a long moment.

He’d come out in the suit. It had to be for a reason.

She couldn’t ask the questions that would break him apart in the suit. Couldn’t guide him through the revelations and the grief. Not if there was somethin’ else he had ta be doing.

Another damn time then. She’d get ‘im here again.

“Batsy.” Her voice was gentler this time, and drew his face back to hers. She made sure to catch his eye. “He already died. Seems ta me somethin’ in there never really let him go.”

She didn’t know much about the Infinite Realms… or anything at all, really. All this magic and mayhem and ghosts was fun an’ all, and she always liked to play, but it wasn’t her wheelhouse.

Didn’t have ta be. She knew how to listen to the professionals.

Bruce had stiffened, the mask of Batman pulling back, and she cut him off with a raised hand.

“An’ you only have ta look at Danny ta know that whatever all that is? Jason ain’t the first. Won’t be the last. Someone’s gonna know what went wrong, and Jason believes they’re helping him. You need to believe Jason.”

“But he could be wrong.” It was barely more than a whisper. Low and grinding and completely devoid of Batman growl, like it’d been pulled right out of his soul.

Harley gave him a gentle bop on the head with her bat.

“Then we deal with that then. But all ya doin’ by bossin’ him around an’ not listenin’ is pissing him off and makin’ him more likely ta run right off to these Realms. He’s not the sweet kid followin’ ya shadow anymore, Batsy. He’s a man, and he gets to make choices. And mistakes.”

This sure as hell wasn’t one of ‘em, but Bruce had never been good at taking that on faith. He had to be shown, and he’d never stop waiting for the tables to turn.

Which was how he usually made things worse. But he did at least know that.

He still looked mutinous, scowling across at her, so she gave him a slightly harder bop on the shoulder.

“Batman, listen ta me. I know you mean well, but Danny makes him happy. All Jason’s seein’ right now is that he’s happy, an’ you wanna take it away.”

That hit harder than any of her blows, though she wouldn’t have noticed if she hadn’t known him so long. His whole body stiffened, sudden hesitation in even his breathing.

Harley stared him down through it, then nodded in satisfaction as his shoulders lowered, just a fraction.

“I can’t lose him again, Harley,” he whispered, barely audible even less than a foot away.

She gave him an even harder bop on the other shoulder.

“Then stop driving him away. You ain’t even said sorry for the other night yet an’ now you owe him another apology. There’s always that things might go wrong; he might get hit by a car crossing the street. The only sure thing is that if you keep treating him like this?”

She leaned forwards, grabbing his chin and forcing him to face her. To look at her, and see how serious she was.

He was reluctant to meet her eyes, but even under the white outs Harley knew when she had someone’s attention. Good. He probably knew what came next.

“You will lose him, Batsy. And it’ll be no one’s fault but your own.”

**

Danny couldn’t have missed Constantine making his way up the street blindfolded and with his ears plugged. It might have been the whole “owned his soul” thing.

It also might have been the vortex of swirling magical attention that followed him like a cloud. The guy clearly wasn’t trying to advertise his presence, but to something like Danny…

Well, trying to hide that hard always caught his attention. A magical “nothing to see here” tasted like liquorice in the back of his throat.

Maybe the trench coat was actually cursed, in more than just the unfortunate fashion sense.

Part of him wondered if this had anything to do with them. The rest, well aware what his luck was like, wondered if he’d come barging into the restaurant.

It wasn’t like he shouldn’t be getting ready to go anyway, but he just… well, he was having a surprising amount of fun just hanging out with Waylon.

The guy was old enough to be his dad, but he was a great listener. Really encouraging, and he’d told Danny another couple of stories too, some from his darker times but all with happy endings.

He was probably trying to make Danny feel better after their talk, and it was definitely working. It just… well, he didn’t even really like thinking about Dan.

He’d asked Nocturn to put him to sleep not long after becoming king, to give the guy something to do other than stew in a thermos and plot vengeance.

Part of him still kinda expected that to bite him in the ass, but even if Dan broke out of Nocturn’s dreams, he couldn’t break out of Soup Time. For whatever reason he’d never learned Danny’s portal trick.

All the people who kept souping Danny were dead in Dan’s timeline.

Danny had almost been ready to wrap things up with Waylon (as little as he wanted to; they’d already exchanged numbers) when he felt Jason’s rage bubble.

He didn’t realise he’d blanked out until Waylon tapped the table in front of him with a claw, concern on his scaly face.

“Somethin’ th’ matter, kid?” He asked in a low growl.

Danny shook his head, staring down at the mostly empty milkshake and chugging the rest.

“Probably nothing… just got a bad feeling about Jason,” he explained with a shrug.

Reached out just a little, extending his senses but not aura. If Jason was already mad, that might send him over the edge.

Just as he reached out a sudden flare of fury made his hand clench, the glass he was still grasping shattering. Great, he had a hand full of milkshake and shards.

Shaking both free, Danny shoved his way out of the booth at the same time as Waylon, the big man going from concerned to battle ready in an instant.

For the first time, he almost looked dangerous. Danny was glad to have him at his back for the visual component at least; anyone who didn’t think twice about pissing off a tank like Jason wouldn’t even blink at Danny.

Killer Croc though? He got that name on his looks alone, long before he earned it.

They didn’t even make it across the bar, wait staff scattering to what were clearly well established positions in case trouble came in.

Trouble didn’t; barely.

Jason Todd did, all but vibrating with rage and steaming green with Pitty’s contribution.

Wait; steaming? Jason had mentioned the Lazarus pits did that, but Danny had never seen ectoplasm steam before. Could everyone see it?

Whether Waylon could or not, it didn’t stop him from hurrying forward, attention fully focused behind Jason for anyone following.

It was maybe the teeniest bit cute that even so angry he had a personal heat haze, Jason didn’t even think Waylon was going for him. His attention was fixed somewhere else; somewhere internal and probably bloody.

Instinct pulled Danny forward, Jason slipping easily into his aura and for a moment Danny felt like he’d drown in Jason’s rage. Answered it himself a moment later, stroking across the anger with worry-protect-safe now.

Jason twitched just a little as the aura washed around him, looking around on automatic until he faced Danny.

The rage softened just a little as he caught Danny’s eye, shoulders sagging. His jaw unclenched enough to talk; visibly enough that it must have been painful.

“Just fucking B again, treating me like a fucking child,” he spat, fists still clenched tight at his sides.

The effort it was clearly taking not to go out and start swinging kept Danny on edge, even as Waylon relaxed.

“Yer a long way from that, kid,” the big guy agreed with a low chuckle, still between Jason and the door, and rested a large hand lightly on Jason’s shoulder. “Want me to go have a word?”

Jason shook his head sharply, the smallest of smiles flicking across his face before the anger replaced it. Yeah, definitely cute.

“No thanks. You’ve only just got out, you don’t need bat trouble again already,” he said through gritted teeth, then nodded to Danny. “I just wanna get out of here.”

Danny nodded immediately, going from maybe-fight to flight. Which was kinda literally an option. Ghosts knew how to make an exit.

“Do you wanna take your bike or just disappear?” He asked simply.

Jason gave him a tight smile, barely layered over anger he was still struggling to control. Fuck, if this was what he’d been dealing with every day before Danny came along…

“Harley’s out back with Batman. I just want to fucking go,” he growled, shaking his head.

Danny nodded again, turning and crouching a little for Jason to hop onto his back.

“Phantom Express it is then.”

And yeah, he knew it looked stupid without Waylon’s confirming snort of laughter.

So did Jason, and the tinge of mirth that coloured his rage-burning-break in his head was more than worth looking silly.

Seemed like Jason was finally starting to trust his strength too as he hopped up without question, Danny not reacting in the slightest to his added weight.

And definitely not the way Jason now towered over him, or having those thighs wrapped around his waist. Nope. No horny in the aura today.

Giving a last nod to Waylon, he turned them both invisible and flew up through the roof, intangibility phasing them through at the last second.

Once they were high enough to be beyond any eavesdropping, he slowed to a stop, not quite looking back at his passenger.

“So, where do you wanna go?”

As Danny had kinda hoped, the sudden exhilaration of flight had tamped Jason’s anger back down until it was less a physical presence. It still seethed and boiled inside him, but it was losing steam.

About half of what he could feel from Jason now was just tired, and honestly? Couldn’t blame him.

Danny had been told how bad his pit rages had been, a visceral wrath that almost possessed Jason and made him lash out in all directions. And by all accounts? He still hadn’t seen the half of it.

It made his core ache just thinking about living with that much rage stuck inside. Feeling like that all the time… Danny had always respected Jason, but this? This demanded a whole new level.

And a little bit made him want to put Jason in a nice ectoplasm hamster ball so he could roll around the streets and nothing would ever hurt him again.

Gonna have to keep that under wraps too, since apparently Danny was losing his fucking mind all up in Gotham.

(Not that he’d never hamster balled anyone before. It was just usually a punishment for Tucker, or Wes if they were being assholes. Derogatory hamster balls were totally fine and not evidence of losing anything at all.)

The man himself was quiet for a long moment, struggling with just everything that was going on inside him.

Danny waited, turning them both intangible again just in case Jason could still be affected by the cold. At this height, it wasn’t exactly pleasant.

Made him side eye all those pictures of witches in dresses and long socks on broomsticks. Good way for the living to get pneumonia, in Danny’s opinion.

Jason didn’t even seem to notice, letting out a frustrated huff of air.

“We’ve gotta get Tucker home. If B is off being an asshole we can at least go to the manor,” he grumbled.

Danny paused for a long moment himself, considering another solution. After all, for ghosts it was simply unthinkable that they hadn’t even had an introductory brawl yet.

Whenever he got that pissed, getting the shit kicked out of him had always helped burn off the energy. But maybe Jason’s was different.

Danny was pretty sure he’d never been that pissed, not even at Pariah. Not even at Agent K.

Danny wouldn’t judge. For now, he nodded, turning to head towards the manor.

“We can go to Frostbite after we’ve dropped Tuck off. It’s been long enough, and you definitely feel stronger?” He offered, kinda hoping it might help Jason feel better.

The grunt he got in return didn’t sound convinced, but Jason also didn’t argue.

Neither of them were expecting to run into traffic in the Gotham airways though, at least not below airline level. Or to be interrupted.

With a sudden loud gust of wind, another black haired young man in a black leather jacket pulled up in front of them, looking around with a frown.

“Hey, I heard someone up here? Jason? Where are you?” He asked loudly, brows furrowing like he was still listening.

Danny’s confusion was better than words as Jason gave his shoulder a quick squeeze.

“Superboy the first. Tim’s boyfriend,” he explained quietly, and Kon’s head whipped around to follow the sound.

“Okay Jason, I know you’re up here, what the fuck?” He asked impatiently, which was when Danny remembered.

Still invisible. Hiding from the Bat and also concerned citizens. He popped them back into visibility with a sheepish grin, waving at… Connor? Or Con? No, kinda sharper. Kon.

It might have been a secret third level of alias, but Danny was pretty sure the bats had called him by a couple names over the various stories.

“Hey… sorry, forgot we were invisible,” he explained, trying not to laugh. Mostly at himself, but best not give the wrong impression.

Superboy’s eyes locked on them for a moment, narrowed briefly, and then his face broke into a grin.

“So, I’m gonna guess you’re Danny, Tucker’s friend that Tim has been gushing about?” He asked eagerly, reclining comfortably in the air. Then paused. “Well, gushing about Tucker. You were mentioned, though.”

That sounded about right.

Danny snickered and nodded, giving Jason a careful reshuffle. If they weren’t gonna be travelling for the moment, they could get a little more comfortable.

Thick thighs tightened around his hips and Danny very specifically did not melt into a puddle of goo. Not even a little bit.

“Yeah, we were just gonna go get Tucker and head out. Are you coming to see Tim?” He asked, kinda half wanting to wait around long enough and see what Tucker and Connor made of each other.

Kon if he was here in official capacity? But he wasn’t exactly wearing a super uniform, or logo. But Jason hadn’t mentioned a name, because Jason wasn’t a helper.

There was one easy way around that though. Bouncing Jason just a little more roughly than strictly necessary, Danny stuck out his hand.

“Danny Fenton, by the way. Since we haven’t been fully introduced.” He gave his best cheerful-but-totally-human grin. No point unnerving the first official alien he met, even if he was only half alien.

The boy reached out easily, giving him a firm handshake back.

“Kon El. Connor when we’re on street level. And yeah, I was just heading the same way when I heard you guys. Tim asked if I’d bring Tucker home though, he wasn’t sure what you guys’ plans were so if you had anything else to do?” He glanced from one to the other, so clearly not asking that he might as well have.

Could Kryptonians see the heat haze of Jason’s anger too? Or did he just know the family well enough, know Jason well enough, to know the signs?

Danny hesitated, glancing over his shoulder at the other halfa. He could almost taste Jason’s indecision, holding each other this close. Bitter and tight in the back of his throat.

How much did he want to deal with his family, with that rage still burning inside him? Hell, they hadn’t even worked out what Jason would do while Danny took Tucker home.

Danny kept quiet though, leaving the choice up to Jason.

It didn’t take long.

Sucking in a deep breath, Jason let out a heavy sigh, a wave of pure relief washing over him.

The anger was still there, a hot little coal right between the dual cores, but it couldn’t drown out the gratitude-sorry-safe. Barely tempered it anymore.

His voice was still gruff when he spoke, still stiff with emotion, but Kon seemed to understand.

“Yeah, that’d be great. Thanks Kon.”

The younger man tipped them both a sarcastic salute, straightening in the air and turning towards Wayne manor.

“You’ve probably got like, a text from Tim about the change of plan, if he even bothered to mention it, but I’ll let him know I saw you. Seems like you’re sticking around, so I’ll probably run into you again, Danny.” He gave them both a cheery nod and flew away.

A tiny part of Danny was sorry that they wouldn’t be around to watch Tucker spiral when confronted with Tim’s boyfriend.

Tim Drake Wayne was a hottie, no point denying it, and he was easily Tucker’s second biggest tech crush beside the mysterious Oracle. With all that hero worship though?

Tucker probably hadn’t actually noticed he was also hot yet. He’d have been in love with him if he’d looked like a snail.

Kon El though? Kon El had exactly the kind of leather jacket, too cool for school, sculpted good looks that Tucker fell head over heels for on any gender.

(Danny absolutely was not a hypocrite, he’d be the very first to admit that he and Tucker had very similar taste in partners, at least as far as appearances. Tucker just preferred a little more “step on me” energy.)

In all the reminders that Tim had a boyfriend, no one had said his boyfriend was hot.

Danny didn’t mention it. It wasn’t like he’d have been able to fully enjoy things anyway; the night before had proved that, and Jason’s mood had been rosy by comparison.

He did offer just one comment though, watching Kon fly away thoughtfully.

“Should we have warned him that Tucker is going to spontaneously combust if Kon tells him to ride him?” He asked mostly hypothetically, fading them out of visibility and tangibility again.

It startled Jason into letting out a snort of laughter which became a cough with his last rasp of thinner air.

“You just did, with Kon’s hearing,” he managed once he could talk normally again, and Danny considered feeling bad about it.

That sizzling coal of rage was almost buried under amused-anticipation-relief.

Nah. No matter what form Tucker’s next wave of vengeance took, this was worth it.

“So, where to next?” He asked, again… kinda hypothetically. From Jason’s sigh the older man was just as aware of what the answer had to be.

“Let’s just fucking go see Frostbite. If I keep looking at the city something’s gonna piss me off again.” He sounded reluctant, resigned, but a slow creeping glow of amazement spread through his aura.

About to pop open another portal, Danny tipped his head up as far as he could and made them visible again, looking for his face.

“What’s up?” He asked, willing to put dimensional travel on hold if there was anything they might be able to do to actually help.

Jason shook his head to focus himself, glancing down at Danny and quickly looking away. Was Danny imagining that sweet pink blush in his cheeks?

“It’s nothing.”

Danny waited, secure in the actual empathic sensation of Jason warring with himself on his back. Finally he won (and also lost, as all civil wars end) and sighed.

“Just. I’ve never come out of the pit rage this fast before,” he admitted gruffly, glaring down at the sparkling lights of the city below. Like this wasn’t something to celebrate.

Danny let them fade back to invisibility, since Jason pretty clearly didn’t want to be looked at.

“Hey, that’s great news! We’ll just have to short circuit Tucker’s gay ass every time you need a boost,” he chirped brightly, and popped the portal open to Jason’s laughter.

**

In his heart of hearts, Bruce knew why Harley was taking him to the parking lot.

If there was any chance of witnesses, any possibility of being overheard, he couldn’t listen to her. Not in the suit. Couldn’t show what any of his rogues (who hadn’t met Harley) might misconstrue as weakness.

If there was a single place in the city which could be trusted to be unsurveiled, it was the parking lots to his rogues’ side businesses. They had their own professional courtesies.

He appreciated it, in his own way. The closest thing to privacy they could have outside the Batmobile at the moment (and even then his children could listen in).

The baseball bat had been… well, not a total surprise, she’d had Jason fetch it in front of him and it wasn’t likely to be an empty prop twice in a row.

Still, he wasn’t as prepared as he could have been, and the first two blows hurt. His fold to the ground was mostly genuine, though part of him was definitely leaning in.

Concussion be damned, he’d been taking an emotional beating this week. At least exterior bruises would show him when they were healing.

But he hadn’t had time after her warning to do anything but head to the meeting.

Had he?

All he remembered was the seriousness of her face, the weight of absolute certainty in her words.

He would lose Jason, because he himself had pushed him away. Because Jason didn’t think Bruce trusted him. Thought Bruce would take away his chance at happiness.

Maybe Danny had been right. Maybe Jason didn’t even know Bruce loved him.

Things were so much worse than he’d made himself believe.

He knew he’d risen when his alarm went off, giving him ten minutes to head to the zeta tubes. Found Constantine again in the alley, since the man was with him now.

Couldn’t remember talking to him. But that wasn’t unlike himself anyway.

There was a hidden zeta tube downtown, only just far enough to justify the Batmobile, but Bruce would rather not leave it to drive home from Freeze’s place anyway.

He set it to return to the cave as he climbed out, at the end of another dark alley. The sun was already beginning to sink, painting the city in yellow and gold.

Constantine tapped carefully on the hood of the Batmobile between them, then jumped back as the car drove itself away, swearing. By the time he finished dusting himself off, Bruce was watching him again.

“Are yer back in there?” The magician asked cautiously, his own voice rough.

Bruce took a moment to assess his colleague. Never exactly tidy, Constantine looked more dishevelled than he had before Bruce and Harley left him.

Jason’s checkup likely hadn’t gone well.

Of course it hadn’t. Not if Jason felt the way Harley said… no. The way he’d told Harley he felt. Because Harley asked.

Something deep and weary in him tried to pull his shoulders down to sag, but he ignored it with the aid of long practice. Just gave Constantine a stiff jerk of the head.

“Hn.”

The man rolled his eyes, turning and heading for the defunct phone booth disguising the zeta tube.

“Great, monosyllables. Well, since yer back, listen up.”

The results of his examination, if Jason even let him perform it. Still, maybe the man would have something? It wasn’t like he couldn’t have cast a few spells without Jason knowing.

“First of all, yer boy ain’t a revenant.”

That jerked Bruce to a stop, his brows furrowing as he turned to face Constantine head on again. The magician had pulled a cigarette from somewhere, likely because they were heading for the Watchtower.

Bruce didn’t bother trying to stop him. He was too busy trying to process.

Constantine didn’t look happy either, so this probably wasn’t actually good news?

“What do you mean?” He growled, stepping closer and lowering his voice to avoid eavesdroppers.

Constantine rolled his eyes, waved his free hand, and the smoke from his cigarette crackled briefly in the air.

“None o’ that cloak and dagger shit, Bats. No one’s gonna hear us. But the kid, Jason? He’s not a revenant. Not sure what he is, actually, an’ not too keen on lookin’ deeper.”

It might have been the longest Bruce had heard him speak without saying “fuck” since the Amity Park question came up. The fact that he looked distinctly uneasy made that less reassuring.

“Why not?” Bruce growled, a little grateful to be able to step back and away from the smoke. Harley had left his head be for the most part, but it was already pounding again.

Constantine fixed him with a slow, speculative look.

“See, here’s my issue,” he began, raising a hand to cut off a growled protest and pointing directly at Bruce. “You? You’re Mr Worst Case Scenario. Can’t stop pokin’ at shit til it gives you an answer, or bites yer head off.”

That was certainly true. It was something that Alfred… Selina… Clark… Dick… Diana… almost everyone close to him had complained of.

Bruce wasn’t convinced it was a shortcoming, but he knew it about himself. It had been an underlying theme this whole investigation; Constantine telling him things because otherwise he’d go poking.

So what changed?

“You’re not gonna like whatever I tell you. An’ I could try an’ temper that by lyin’, or I could treat you like a fuckin’ adult on yer promise the you don’t go punchin’ inter shit yer don’t understand.”

Constantine stared expectantly at him, taking another long drag on his cigarette.

Ah. Waiting for Bruce to choose an option. As if there was any doubt?

“I swore your oath,” Bruce reminded him gruffly, and Constantine rolled his eyes again.

“An’ I’m fully aware you’re a tricky piece of shit that’ll try and work around it the second it comes up. That’s why it’s generic. You hear about the Ghost King, you back the fuck off, shut the fuck up, and run. That’ll include any of yer precious reports.”

He took another slow drag of his cigarette, watching Bruce the whole while. Bruce stared back, unsure what he was looking for but determined that he’d find nothing.

Shit. So much for having Red Robin and Oracle prod around for him. Though he had been planning to warn them to be delicate.

It barely occurred to him that showing nothing might tell Constantine more than anything else before the magician sighed and shook his head.

“Listen, B. The shit you need to know? Actually, really need to know? Jason’s… safe. There’s not a damn thing in the Infinite Realms that can hurt him now, whatever he is. I’d even put money on him bein’ demon proof, with the wards on him now.”

And wouldn’t it be so, so nice to believe that Constantine had put those wards on him? Bruce could feel the wish for it, a flight of fancy he rarely allowed himself.

Bruce let himself indulge in the want to believe for about the same length of time as that ominous pause.

“What wards?” He asked flatly, the low rumble not exactly hiding how he felt about the situation, but since he’d almost rather yell, he considered it fair.

Constantine, again, was not impressed. He folded his arms and prodded at Bruce with his still smoking cigarette.

“See, there’s that prodding. I’m trying to do this the nice way, B. Give you answers instead of just shutting you down, but you aren’t gonna know everything without a couple decades of practice, and you need to get over that.”

The magician took another drag, closing his eyes tightly for a second. When he opened them again, he looked entirely uncompromising.

The stern professional Bruce had only seen previously in life and death situations, and ones getting worse at that. Was this situation that dire?

“I could speak a word and make you forget this whole damn thing. Four more, and you’d have no choice about droppin’ it,” Constantine growled, clearly bitterly regretting not choosing that option. Bruce’s eyes narrowed in response.

He’d clearly ruled it out, but he hadn’t wanted to. Whatever he didn’t want to tell Bruce, Constantine expected him to have a powerful response.

Which meant that is was very bad, but also that Bruce’s natural response would make things worse. He could work around that.

He chose not to address the remark at all, just waiting for Constantine to continue. The man stayed silent just long enough that Bruce wondered if he was changing his mind on trying to make him forget.

This was why he hated magic. But he’d broken through it before. No spell could stand up to intense, detailed scrutiny, and he would surely have plenty of clues to remind himself when the problem was with his own son.

Finally Constantine sighed, flicked the butt of his cigarette to the ground, and crushed it under one heel. He seemed to have come to a decision, new purpose under the fear he’d been hiding since he first arrived.

“Let’s just get this over with,” he sighed, heading for the zeta tube. There was just a little more spring in his step.

Bruce frowned and moved to block him.

“The wards,” he pressed, a hint of irritation creeping into his voice. This conversation was important.

Constantine looked surprisingly chipper actually, raising his chin to give Bruce a sudden and almost startling smirk.

“Oh no, big guy. You had your chance to promise to behave like an adult, so we’re going with option three.”

He’d noticed Bruce’s lack of comment. Obviously, but Bruce hadn’t really thought he’d need to say anything.

Investigating was what Batman did. He knew how to do it tactfully, and without stepping on toes. He just wouldn’t promise not to do it.

None of which explained Constantine’s suddenly improved mood. It was almost the same satisfaction he’d show when he’d worked out how to pawn an unpleasant job off on someone else.

“And that is?” Bruce asked warily, suspecting he wouldn’t like whatever made this not Constantine’s problem. Constantine waggled a finger at him, like he was nothing more than a naughty child.

“I let you ask questions, after Wonder Woman promises to keep yer in line.” He said it with the finality of a lead weight, and it dropped through Bruce’s chest like one.

Shit.

Diana… Diana knew him far too well. If Constantine convinced her of whatever gave him this level of caution, she would camp in the bat cave to stop him if necessary.

Diana didn’t tolerate what she considered risk. If Bruce could convince her he was right instead… she could be a very useful ally. And she had always liked Jason.

Jason adored her. Wonder Woman had always been his favourite hero, even as a child. If Diana asked him, he might even agree to a consultation.

Bruce still didn’t know what had happened with today’s consultation, and apparently he wouldn’t even find out until they spoke to Wonder Woman.

He could extrapolate from that alone, frankly, even if Constantine wasn’t visibly rattled.

Bruce stepped aside somewhat reluctantly, letting Constantine step into the zeta tube first. They could technically fit in together, but he wasn’t exactly in the mood to play sardines.

The magician’s vehemence was troubling him, as was his conviction that Wonder Woman would be the answer. It was possible that Bruce had miscalculated the scale of the threat they were facing.

Whatever had warded Jason must be touchy enough to dislike any form of questions, and powerful enough to have its displeasure matter. And if it would be able to detect the questions being asked…

Contrary to popular opinions, Bruce did know how to temper his investigative instincts when called for. People only had to ask.

And.

Impress on him. A few times. That they meant it.

Honestly if they just told him why and what to expect, set some limitations and boundaries, it wasn’t like he was unreasonable. He just liked to verify data through his own sources.

Justice League Dark were a perfectly reputable source when he had to involve himself with magic. He could cross reference things between other members if he needed to check Constantine’s intel.

The unfortunate fact of the matter seemed to be that however little Bruce liked it, he did now need to learn more about magic. He’d been content to leave it to the experts for as long as he could, but…

But it now concerned one of his children. His second son, the one he’d lost.

At the very least, he needed to understand enough about the Infinite Realms to know how to keep Jason safe. What he would need, if there was anything they should be doing for him.

Not that the JL Dark had bothered to let him know when they thought Jason was a revenant. That might have been nice, even if apparently he wasn’t.

He’d already planned to start with Constantine’s attached reading on the Infinite Realms, and the Ghost King in particular for his new researches.

(Just the thought sent a shiver down his spine, and Bruce stepped into the zeta tube a little faster than necessary. Was that his oath? On just the thought?)

He could get information on these specific wards too. Cross reference with Zatanna when she was available. Perhaps contact Dr Fate.

The Justice League Dark had their own sections of both reference materials and secured artefacts in various bases around the world.

Studying those should be a sufficient compromise; he wouldn’t reach out to the Infinite Realms directly, not until the Anti-Ecto Acts had been dealt with.

Then they could get in touch with Jason’s mysterious doctor, provided he was willing. Have the dismantling of the acts as a show of good faith.

He’d have to ask Constantine about a sufficient apology too. And mention the acts themselves; somehow there just hadn’t been time today.

Stepping out into the Watchtower, Bruce was maybe just possibly anticipating the magician’s reaction, in a dark way. Let someone else have a bad day for a change.

The poor man had been so upset with the idea that Bruce might ask questions about the realms. The fact that the United States had declared a kill order on all its occupants was not going to go over well.

And all that sass and defensive aggression could be pointed at someone other than Bruce for a while.

Actually? He should wait until Constantine was sitting down. He could add it to his meeting notes, bring it up to the whole League at once.

There would be someone on site if the magician actually fainted.

Or if Bruce’s head actually exploded.

Bruce made a mental note to check their medical supplies and defences, in case there were any unpredictable reactions. He could swing by the infirmary before they got started.

Giving Constantine a quick parting nod, he turned away from the hall and walked quickly towards the infirmary. Just to check in.

Today’s meeting was just the Justice League, with Constantine as the sole representative of JL Dark; Dark’s members all seemed to know about the Infinite Realms and Amity Park already. They didn’t need the briefing.

They’d have to read Bruce’s meeting notes now though. The same ones he was fully aware most members of the League just ignored, considered wasteful paperwork.

They expected to be told directly if something was important. As if he had all the time in the world, and they had no personal responsibility.

The lights thrummed softly as he walked, all the little noises of the satellite’s systems ticking over in perfect order helping Bruce settle into his purpose.

Jason’s report had been thorough, and though Bruce could easily see the bias around his son’s words… in this case it was more than justified.

The wording used to describe Jason and others like him in the acts contained less expletives, but were no better. The veneer of detachment only made the disdain shine through more clearly.

As if his son were beneath contempt. If Jason were to be believed (and Bruce would confirm with Constantine and Shazam) then most of his family were ecto-contaminated.

It was almost nice to have a tangible problem to solve. An enemy he could face and defeat in simple, easy manoeuvres. It was unlikely to be a physical fight, but that hardly mattered.

The delicate machinations of politics were better left to Wonder Woman, Aquaman, damn near anyone but Batman. No, Bruce Wayne was far more influential in that arena.

A little money in the right places, press coverage, a big “himbo with a heart of gold” performance. They weren’t his preferred weapons, but he knew they were effective.

And for Jason, there was nothing at all he wouldn’t do.

Purpose and the time limit combined hastened his step, his cloak billowing around him as he stalked the halls of the Watchtower. The infirmary was empty; always good.

Their stocks were full, and there were three nurses on duty that Bruce had personally selected. He trusted all of them, and none looked worried at his visit.

Batman was well known for overpreparing. It always came in useful.

He was just making his way back towards the meeting hall, feeling markedly better himself with a firm goal in mind, when Superman rounded the corner ahead of him.

The man of steel was heading his way, worry writ large on his face. If he’d heard Bruce’s talk with Harley… actually, if he’d been able to overhear Constantine’s talk with Jason, that would be very useful.

Bruce prepared a few brief words to reassure his friend as succinctly as possible, and get them both moving back towards the meeting. They could actually talk afterwards.

He never got to say them. Superman ignored his little nod of greeting and hurried up to him, standing close enough that they couldn’t be overheard. Blocking Bruce’s path.

A thrum of dread wormed its way back into Bruce’s heart as he looked up into his friend’s earnest, deep blue eyes.

Clark kept his voice low, urgent and concerned as he whispered five words that shattered the world.

“Bruce? I can’t hear Jason’s heart.”

—————————

😈

Now quick, for extra bonus points, who can name what was supposed to happen at some point in the last two chapters and didn’t? This is your chance for a treat from the beginning of the next chapter

Tag List: @welcometosasakiworld @kyrianclawraith @someonebored0100 @stealingyourbones @starkcravingmad @frostedthroughghost @akikkobara @rainbowbunny0159 @littlefeather345 @violet-catsarelife @serasvictoria02 2 @wolfjackle @blacksea21090 @secretdestinywerewolf @anime-hipster-the-amazing @undead-essence @skitscratched @blackroserelina @snoodly-boop @trickerdi @mayoota-blog @xysidhe @idkmrpianoman @little-apricot-the-writer er @chaoticmistake @the-legal-shipper @bun-fish @aroranorth-west @demon-cat-goes-woof @perfectwastelandcreation n @onyxlightdragon @larks-and-katydids @peachesandcreamfemboy @jesus-camp-the-sequel @may-rbi @mothman-the-mothman87 @viyatrix @stargirl1331 @idfk-man10 @thedepressedrobin @skulld3mort-1fan @rootsmudge @ravenshadow17 @cankoking @phantom-dc @mentalcarebear @magic-pincushion @redamancyardor @lyra689 @itsparadoxlacuna a @alcorbearson @asphyxia778 @why-must-i-be-like-this @tkiesai @greenpyrowolf @frivolous-pastel @honeysuckletook

Next chapter!

[nteabodies]

Qui gon has a space youtube channel where he uploads videos of cool plants and reviews books on space botany with the occasional random footage of jedi stuff. The content is either very dry or very chaotic with shaky cam and somewhat blurry footage.

He made the account when he was a padawan after Dooku (nursing a headache from Qui Gon's latest hyperfixation) wearily asked him to channel his love for plants somewhere else at least until this migraine subsides, padawan

He realises that he actually loves making videos and chatting endlessly to a camera. His first few videos end up being 3 to 4 hours long and focuses on obscure plants and random books he found in Dookus room

The jedi Council is a little illiterate when it comes to social media (it hasnt caused any problems for the order yet so its pretty much unregulated) so QuiGon isn't actually breaking any rules when he posts videos without making them private. Many jedi do have social media accounts but they tend to use it for more professional purposes, so Qui Gon's channel slips under the radar with an average of like 5 views per video.

He continues using the channel as a botany/cute animals/philosophy/ranting outlet throughout his apprenticeship.

Once he's knighted he has less time to upload videos so his most common type of videos end up being those 20 second to 1 minute clips ft. Something Funny or Something Cool or just blurry footage with unintelligible audio.

Ofc when he gets padawans, he also posts random vids of them when he catches them in 4k doing sth stupid/cute.

By the time obi wan comes around, qui gon's space youtube channel has like, 50 short videos of feemor and xanatos doing things like petting tookas, failing spectacularly at executing a flashy ataru form, being sappy while high on painkillers, running away from qui gon as he holds a flesh-eating parasite towards them and shouts 'why are you running?' etc etc

At this point he has about 20 or so regular viewers who either think he's roleplaying a jedi or are members of the jedi order who find it hilarious (mainly Qui-Gon's friends and, for some reason, Master Yoda)

Anw the point of this is to lead to the premise of one of his videos going viral during the clone wars (possibly the one of general kenobi when he was 14 doing a backflip and landing on his face. Or the one of him sleeping while half his body is dangling outside a window. Or the one where he does this).

It's good PR for the jedi bc it shows them as slightly chaotic but peaceful people who are at their core just like everyone else (idiots).

It's memed to the extent that it reaches the eyes of the Jedi Council and Anakin who immediately like brings it to obi wan like "Master is this really you??"

Obi Wan randomly discovering this treasure trove of videos that shows so much of the person his master used to be, missing his dad so much but at the same time feeling a little betrayed that Qui Gon uploaded such embarrassing videos to a public forum where anyone could view it: you are haunting me from beyond the grave master

And the channel has both clips of Qui Gon and Obi wan as padawans, so there would definitely be fan compilation videos comparing their feral padawan energy. Obi Wan feels seen bc no one used to believe him when he told them that calm Master Jinn was actually crazier than him but now he finally has proof but then angst bc Qui Gon is not there so he can't rub his face in it :(

Anakin and ahsoka discovering that their cool and calm master used to be wilder and more feral than them before qui gon died and left him to raise a child: that's actually very sad.

The general public seeing Dooku in the bg of qui gon's padawan videos: is General Kenobi... fighting a war... against his jedi grandpa?

Anw this can go two ways: either this is just a cute thing that happened during the clone wars and everything else happened the same as canon OR it inadvertently saves the galaxy

Canon: the videos make everyone involved Feel Things but don't change their actions. The empire never gets around to banning the channel so Obi wan uses it as one of his last sources of comfort in the desert as he watches over luke. Once he reconnects with Qui-Gon's force ghost, they bond by watching old videos from the channel. Years later, Luke discovers Obi Wans old datapad and inadvertently finds out about the original viral video and the channel. It ends up being a very good reference for painting a picture of jedi life pre-empire. Luke uses it as a reference when building his jedi academy but not before spending a solid hour laughing at the padawan kenobi fail compilations

AU:

Dooku watching some of the videos and all the fluff (and possibly seeing the vlog where padawan qui gon talks about the differences between attachments and love with regards to jedi and bringing up his bond with dooku): Actually maybe I can leave the jedi order and make positive change without becoming a sith lord. Maybe I can help the jedi order without agreeing with everything they do.

Anakin watching the same video on attachments vs love and going to obi wan

Anakin: Do you love me master?

Obi wan: ???

Obi wan: You are my brother anakain??? Of course I love you??? But why are you asking me?? Are you okay?? Do you have something to confess perhaps?? Like about a senator?? A senator that has a name beginning with a p??

Anakin, panicking: Ah yes p-pa-palpatine did tell me a strange story about a wise sith lord when we went for our weekly bonding session yesterday

Obi wan: I -

Obi wan: I meant your marriage to Padme actually but wtf there is a lot to unpack there.

And anakin is just reeling from the fact that

1) obi wan loves him

2) obi wan knew about padme and didn't say anything

So he doesn't get angery when Obi wan brings the palpy matter to the jedi Council and investigates him. Then add in a few well-timed coincidences bc this is a fix it and yay palpy overthrown!!

Anakin prolly voluntarily leaves the order and becomes a happy trophy husband for Padme after a long talk with Obi wan about his future where he reevaluates his life decisions. ("Anakin you will be my brother whether or not you're in the order")

Obi wan meets Qui Gons force ghost and does get to rub it in his face that he was a less feral padawan than Qui Gon.

And they all lived happily ever after except palpatine who died angrily ever after.

[just-shapes-and-story-mode]

See the joke is that I’ve been running this blog for over five years now

(Just ignore the fact that it is definitely not December 26 anymore)

Ok I’m gonna be a bit sappy for a moment so don’t mind me

I’m honestly so stunned that we’ve gotten this far, I totally expected to either be done with this story within a year or two or move on from jsab halfway through the story. And yeah while I have had other interests during these five years, I still haven’t grown tired of jsab or this story that I’ve created. The fact that I still want to make more updates and answer more asks for this blog after all these years is just insane to me, especially since it isn’t even finished yet lmao. And don’t worry, we’re definitely in the home stretch, it’s just gonna be a bit longer than I would hope for with all my ambitious ideas and life stuff going on.

Speaking of, I’M AN ADULT NOW???? That’s crazy. I made the first posts for this blog back in middle school and now I’m in my first year of college lmao. It’s weird to look back and just really see the tangible change you’ve gone through, especially since it’s all documented like this. I think it’s even more of an achievement that I’m still thinking about these silly guys even now lmao. Cuz I don’t know about you, but most of the characters I had when I was in middle school I’ve either forgotten about or cringe thinking about them. But these guys somehow hit different, y’know? Maybe it’s because I’ve updated them progressively along with my progression as a writer as I’ve been telling the story, but I honestly don’t know.

I’m also surprised that some of y’all have managed to stay interested for so long because, my god, those early posts were so awful FHKLFSDK,, I love them for what they did for me but I think I’m allowed to hate them now for how bad my writing skills were. To those of you who have stuck around since the beginning, thank you so much, genuinely. I mean this when I say that I would not be here without all of you. You all have made these past five years worth every second, and I cherish every one of you. I also know that some people have moved on from this story or just jsab in general, and to those people, I hope you’re doing well in whatever pursuits you’re doing. It’s sad to see you go, but never forget that I cherished the time you were here, and I wish you every happiness wherever you are now. And to anyone who is new to this blog who started following either from any of my “recent” posts or if this one is somehow your introduction to me.. uh, sorry?? FHDSKFHSDK I’m kidding, but seriously, I hope you have a nice stay and enjoy this story at least a little bit. Please tread with caution if you try to catch up from the first posts, there’s uh,, a lot,, and not all of them are good (also the links to the next posts at the beginning don’t work yet I need to finish those)

Ok I think that’s enough reminiscing for one half a decade, hopefully I haven’t bored you guys lmao. Expect some more answers to asks hopefully soon (for this blog and h3ll-0f-a-r1de, if there’s anyone here who also follows that blog), but I’m not exactly the best when keeping up with set deadlines lmao so just expect them to come when they come :]

[tinypandacakes]

Helloo! I love ur fics sm u genuinely make my day better whenever u post. Ur such a talented writer and I can see how much work u put into ur writings and I admire u a lot. Ty for giving us some amazing art to read *chefs kiss* BUT ANYWAY enough of the sappy stuff lol I had a question abt König from ur series ‘Trapper Keeper’ and was wondering abt his past relationships or lack there of. Has he ever been intimate with another woman besides reader or were any of the women he has been with (if he has) were intimated by his size (also how big is he) and didn’t want to have sex?

Hi! Ahh thank you for saying so ☺️ you’re very sweet!

mildly NSFW and spoilers below for people who haven’t read yet ~

I’m not diving super deep into his social/sexual history in this story, but I HC König in his late thirties or early 40s. personally, I like him on the older end of that range, but I leave it vague so you can imagine what you like :3. probably some relationships here or there. he makes a comment about not meeting the right person when Hase asks if he has a spouse, so the assumption is he has never married.

It’s definitely possible his height and dick have intimidated partners in the past though 😭 and while he has learned to play nice through the years, his personality can come across as way too intense, so there’s that too

ive been trying to show that he’s definitely not some shy virgin, but it has been a while since he’s been with someone. Hase would assume that he’s probly only jerked off for the ~ two years he’s been at the cabin :( abusing his poor cock with his rough and calloused grip

He seems to know what he’s doing sexually but was rusty and anxious around her in the beginning [his hands shook the first time he undressed her when she was sick, when he touched her in the bath he was too rough/fast on her clit until she guided him] But now that he’s comfortable with her, he doesn’t want to take his hands off her. :3

He is not a sex god or something in this fic but is aware that he is bigger than average and doesn't want to break his toy before he's even gotten to play with it properly, y'know? That wouldn’t be fun for anyone. And the chase is half the fun, anyway….

But he is very eager and interested in making Hase pliant feel good! She is conflicted but internally admits to sort of liking it when he’s a little rough and scary, which :) suits König just fine :) because :) he does seem :) to have a teensy bit of sadistic streak in him…. :)

But really...it’s not his fault that Hase is so adorable when her big doe eyes are wide and full of tears, and she’s just looking up at him, willing and waiting for guidance 🥺 poor little thing...lost and confused. good thing König knows what she really needs 🐇💕

[lady-of-ocs]

VOLLEYBALL! VOLLEYBALL!

HI IT'S 2 AM AND I SHOULD GO TO BED BUT EHHHH I got through to episode 21 today! Should be able to finish the season tomorrow! I'm very excited even though I know that the boys lose to Aoba Johsai.

BUT LET'S TALK ABOUT OTHER THINGS RIGHT NOW! My boys killed it in those first two games! I kind of love Aone and Date Tech! I don't know how much we're going to see them in the future (I know that we do see them, i just don't know how many times!), but I'm excited! The little side story with Daichi's friend from middle school was honestly pretty sweet too. Daichi assuring him that they'd keep winning for his team too was just AH. Love Daichi. All the third years are husband material, I fear (I don't mind Kiyoko, but I haven't been wowed by her yet. I'm sure that will come soon).

THAT BEING SAID, the whole banner scene was hella cute. Bless you, Kiyoko.

ALSO LET ASAHI TALK AND BE SAPPY. PLEASE, THAT'S LITERALLY MY IDEAL MAN RIGHT THERE.

EVERY TIME PEOPLE ARE SHOCKED/IMPRESSED BY KAGEHINA'S QUICK ATTACK, ANOTHER YEAR IS ADDED ONTO MY LIFESPAN. I EAT IT UP. YOU GO, MY BABY BIRDIES.

FUCK YOU OIKAWA. Nah, just kidding. He's a very good antagonist but I cannot hate him. His understanding of his teammates is genuinely really admirable and you can tell that he really knows them. I also love him and Iwaizumi's relationship. Childhood friends to lovers has become a favorite trope of mine and they fall right into that category, same as Kuroken and Tsukkiyama (and these are both ships I also enjoy). Iwaoi rights and all that. Love how Iwaizumi won't even let Oikawa insinuate that he might be worse than Kageyama. The definition of "fuck you, you're amazing." They just scratch an itch in my brain. As of right now, I'm more of an Iwaizumi Hajime fan, but that may change (Oikawa, I'm waiting for you to sneak into my heart, you cocky bastard).

SIDE BAR: That scene where Hinata and Nishinoya get mistaken for elementary schoolers and the team laughs? I'm deceased. They're so cute. I'm melting into the floor. Someone please hold me. AND ADDITIONAL NOTE TO THAT? THE BUS SCENE. THAT WASN'T EVEN THE REALLY CUTE ONE THAT I'VE SEEN BEFORE (because the one I've seen has Yachi in it and Yachi hasn't been introduced yet) BUT I STILL REALLY ENJOYED IT.

RIP that news story was crushing and I was cringing at my screen.

In my notes about the episode I have "lmao Ukai's fucking beer metaphor" and I think that speaks for itself.

I'M SO EXCITED TO SEE SUGA SET NEXT EPISODE. LET'S FUCKING GO SUGAWARA!!!!!! THAT'S MY BOY!

Anyway, added more stuff to my OC document today. Maybe I'll say more once I've finished season 1? I don't even know if people are interested but EH. It'll appear one day.

[lilac-hecox]

Ian's day prompt or question: We know that Ian painted his car at Anthony's house and Anthony said he taught him to paint, that's actually so sweet. We never got to see that 😭 . Do you think that he actually like, taught him the techniques and was there watching paint and giving suggestions?

Ian + Anthony - platonic ianthony - painting

--

“Are you sure this is your first time? You’re really good,” Anthony says, as he peers over Ian’s shoulder.

“I mean, I’ve done painting stuff on Smosh, but I’ve definitely never used oil paints. I did watch Mel paint that one-time years ago.”

“Right,” Anthony says, his eyes scanning over Ian’s painting where his best friend is working on a piece, re-creating his beloved old-fashioned car, immortalizing it in oil paints. Anthony should have known that when he invited Ian over for a painting session, Ian would choose to paint the most ridiculous Ian Hecox thing he could.

But that’s what Anthony loves about him.

Ian is a strange guy, but Anthony wouldn’t have him any other way. He knows this now, because he didn’t have Ian. In the chaos of life, he had lost his tabs with the other man, and through luck and work they had found their way back to each other.

It only made Anthony appreciate Ian that much more.

Ian, who spent a good fifteen minutes meticulously mixing the oil paints on the palette Anthony had given him, until he had the perfect shade of red for his car. Ian, who was talented not only at painting, but so many other things and yet had the hardest time believing it from anyone, even Anthony.

But he’d keep praising Ian until he was blue in the face, until Ian knew he was serious, until Ian agreed.

“You’re a natural,” Anthony says.

Ian rolls his eyes, “Hardly. My car kind of looks more like a blob with wheels.”

“It’s a great blob with wheels, very detailed.”

Ian snorts, “Now you’re just being nice.”

Anthony sets down his own paint brush on the built-in holder on his wooden easel. He lays a clean hand on Ian’s shoulder.

“I’m not. You’re picking it up faster than I thought and you’re doing a good job. You have a good eye for color, contrast, and framing.”

“Well, anything I’ve picked up is from you,” Ian says, glancing backwards at Anthony.

“Really? I don’t feel like I know what the fuck I’m doing half the time.”

“Yet you keep painting.”

“Yeah, exactly, and now you are too.”

Ian smiles at him, shakes his head and he picks his paint brush back up.

“Okay, okay, but it isn’t going to look as good as yours.”

“It shouldn’t look like mine. It should look like yours.”

“So pretentious,” Ian teases.

Anthony laughs, squeezing Ian’s shoulder as he watches Ian paint.

“Hey, man, listen. I’m glad we’re doing this together. Thank you for coming to paint with me,” Anthony says, his voice edging on fond and his words sincere.

“Oh no, you’re going sappy on me,” Ian says, a flush coloring his cheeks, but he swallows and meets Anthony’s gaze, “I’m really glad we’re doing this too. Thank you for having me over and teaching me.”

Anthony squeezes at Ian’s shoulder again.

“Anytime, buddy. Anytime.”

[rose-tea-and-strawberries]

The way you write Deuce is just, *chef's kiss* i love it. it absolutely lives in my head rent-free.

So much so that i saw this tiktok of a pigeon sprinting with a leaf to gently put it on top of his mate sitting in her nest, and my first thought was, 'that's them. That's Deuce/MC. 💕💕'

Here's the video but i understand if you're hesistant to click on random links. I do hope you have a nice day btw ^ ^)

(https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZT8DbBeDw/)

AAAHHHH THANK YOU SO MUCH!

No but seriously Deuce 'his gaze softened' Spade is so loving and deserves so much love like I literally can't even explain.

First of all, that video is everything and it’s so Deuce coded I can’t even. Another animal couple I see would be this:

But, don't get me wrong, I would just like to go on the record and say that I've been watching a lot of dog videos and Deuce is 100% a dog: he's sweet, loyal, supportive, loving, protective - the complete package (though his eyes are much cuter). Just saying that he (and Jack) would be at the top of Crewel's list for approved boyfriends.

I mean as deranged as I am for him, I swear I can quit any time (I say as I stuff my shaking hands into my pockets and send multiple pictures of him flying out of my pocket)

He’s a perfect gentleman despite not being raised as one - and no I don’t mean in the literal sense, actual queen Mama Spade definitely raised her son to be chivalrous and kind and respectful to everyone. I mean he wasn’t raised to be a quintessential refined nobleman like Riddle or Malleus or Vil. He’s the only son of a single mother and as far as we know only his maternal grandmother is around (we don’t know if his father left or is dead but I subscribe to the headcanon that he was a jerk that left when Deuce’s mum was pregnant) so he’s never had an older male relative to look up to. Yet he still has all the traits that you’d see in Austen male leads - he's serious and straightforward, sort of soft spoken, he'll restrain his emotions, he's gentle (at most times), he canonically loves sappy romances, he’s got a strong moral compass and he has this sort of soft touch-starved vibe that I can't really explain.

But he's this sweet, considerate wholesome guy who gives it his all in everything despite his background and personality of an adrenaline-fuelled teenage boy. And he's very realistically (and very endearingly) a teenage boy: he's a troublemaker, he's rough around the edges, he makes mistakes even when his heart is in the right place, there are times where he can be slow on the uptake, he's aggressive, he thinks more with his fists and instincts and feelings than with his head, he's emotional and will lash out if he sees injustice, he's not afraid to use dirty tactics, he was literally in a gang, he's impulsive and reckless and literally itching for a fight. But he’s still as much of a man of honour as Mr Darcy or Captain Wentworth. And e's so loving and he's so sincere and he tries so hard I just-

(I want to kiss him on the mouth)

I just think it's really sweet that the same guy who could violently beat up like five guys bigger than him without a thought would instantly turn into a blushing puddle if you so much as held his hand and follow you around with a wide eyed awestruck look like a lost puppy or baby duckling.

I love to say that the reader is his salvation, his angel, his light and it comes from his inner shame at his past. Yes, he's bettering himself to atone for all the hurt his mother went through but he also really wants to prove to be someone worthy of being at your side. You're his apricity and he loves you more than anything.

He’s very sword and shield coded (though, I’d say he’s less of a shield and more of a sword - Jack seems to fit the shield motif more to me). He's very honour bound and duty driven and he gives me the vibes of those loyal knights you get in period stories.

And I guess that's what appeals to me. Bad boys are literally my least favourite trope in modern fiction and I get irked at practically every broody, angsty 'I hate the world' male love interest I come across (usually because the good boy second ml is so much better but my sister says that red flags are much more interesting than boring green flags so...). But Deuce, my man, my deuce box. He's a (former) bad boy that ticks all of the green flag boxes. He's not a bad boy with a hidden soft side, he's a soft boy with a (not-so-hidden) bad side.

He's not rude and snarky, he's kind and respectful. He doesn't have a problem with authority or hate his parents, one of his main character traits is his healthy love for his mother and he has a high opinion of his upperclassmen and the adults around him and he takes his studies seriously even when he's not good at them. He doesn't hide behind an arrogant facade, he's genuine and sincere to everyone he meets. Yes, he has an innate attraction for violence but instead of acting on it, he spends his time sating his love for adrenaline by speeding along on his magical wheel and joining the most athletic club in the school. He wouldn't tease you for your interests, you could spend hours babbling about your rock collection and he'd be completely rapt.

He's like the perfect dichotomy of the bad boy trope and the wholesome cinnamon roll good boy trope. Like one second he and you are engaged in the 'no you're cuter' or 'no you hang up' cycle on the phone and the next second your arms are wrapped around his torso and your wearing his leather jacket as he does the akira slide on his magical wheel.

Anyway I could go on for ages but instead have Deuce Vibes tumblr text post:

(Censored by moi)

P.S. I’ve been watching a lot of Ace edits and like 😳🥰 that boy ❤️ People make so many jokes about Malleus not getting invited to the meeting where the Disney executives explain twst is not an otome game but like Ace got the invitation and glanced at it for 0.345 seconds before ripping it into shreds, tossing the pieces into a blender, throwing the blender into a fire and then nuking the fireplace.

[vixxdaemon]

henrin and osaabella make me so happy. thank you for introducing me to these two pairings.. i'm so heart eyes over them omg. spare headcanons? i rattle a can towards you

Oh sweetheart you have no idea for how fucking long I have been waiting for someone sending me an ask exactly like that. I am going to enjoy answering it with my whole being.

Alright so headcanons huh? I can do that. I can most definitely do that.

Henrin :

-Both of them bounded over their shared dislike of the Bremen Empire. So in general, their political views actually align together well. Karin doesn’t like how passive Henryk is most of the time, though.

-I’d imagine, if you were to come to them and tell them you believe in occult and magic, they both would point and laugh at you. Karin is more of a louder laughter at the absurdity you’re telling her while Henryk is more of a small «Yeah right » kind of chuckle. They’re mean girls to me.

-Both started of as fwb to relieve eachother’s stress and also fill up their respective egos. Henryk because he gets to fw a celebrity and therefore not be a complete nobody after all since he pulled her, and Karin because she has no fear of Henryk leaving her because she knows he can’t do better as a nobody average Joe.

-Both are queer. Henryk is a bisexual man who isn’t openly and proudly so but did flirt with men before and still does when him and Karin aren’t serious yet (but he never had the courage to keep up with it and actually have encounters with other men) and Karin is a closeted bisexual woman and projects onto queer men in particular. If/when she realized it might definitely do something to her psyche. Leads to interesting stuff about Karin discovering about Henryk’s sexuality (he does not call it bisexuality because at this era they did not have that word to describe it) and unpacking her internalized homophobia/biphobia.

-I can most definitely imagine that the main conflict between them comes from the fact that Karin refuses to be vulnerable to Henryk at first due to her trust issues, and notices immediately how jealous he gets at her popularity and fame, which she immediately calls out and tells him to correct before it actually becomes a problem. Then Henryk would feel hurt at Karin’s refusal to put off her walls around him because himself does efforts to better himself. An argument would probably happen between them and Henryk would leave, slamming the door shut while doing so.

-It’s only after a short while of being separated that Karin realizes that she does care for Henryk and how much so. She realizes that she is in love with him and uh. She did not just fall in love, it was a whole plane crash in her mind. So for a while her and Henryk would not keep in touch, but at one point she just has enough and takes matters in her own hands and comes directly to see him to apologize to him and have a genuine heart to heart with him about it. He decides to accept to listen to her cause he sees it takes her quite a bit to open up.

-They tearfully make up after a few hours and start to become friends in a more healthy way, and then as time goes on they slowly but surely become a couple. Henryk loves to annoy Karin and Karin pretend to be pissed at his sappy jokes and whatnot but she would not really want Henryk to be any different in reality. Karin’s the kind to shove whatever food Henryk is making while they’re chatting when he’s being annoying lol. They also like to be mean to eachother and only eachother know that it’s just how they are and most of the time the mean words are just mean words that mean nothing.

-On a less timeline related note, Henryk cooks and Karin loves his food. She does not ever express it through words but she eats it all up at once when he does just tells him everything he needs to know.

-Henryk tries to convince Karin to relax more while Karin convinces Henryk to stop lamenting and get his shit together to find a profession he likes. I can imagine she has contacts due to her being a journalist to which she can pass on Henryk so he can find people who can for example teach him stuff or hire him.

-Their love language is gossiping and talking shit about people who annoy them. More often than not Henryk will gesture at Karin to come ither and he will whisper some joke or gossip about a person they wanna clown on and she will have a little restricted giggle about it, that and possibly whisper something back to him.

O’saAbella :

-Kept contact after the Termina festival because Abella wanted to know more about occultism after everything she’s seen at the festival, and O’saa was her best bet to get all the knowledge she needed. O’saa is happy to provide, and fuels his ego a lot to know someone would want to learn from him. Also a way for him to learn more about machines.

-They write to eachother a lot when they’re apart at the start, but it has become difficult due to O’saa moving around a lot. So, O’saa suggests to Abella that she could travel around the world with him so he could show her in person what she needs to know. She accepts and here they go.

-O’saa has a sweet tooth while Abella adores everything savory. O’saa shows her around the world and lets her taste local foods and she eats it up everytime. When it’s very spicy, she will be tearing up, red faced, but have the brightest smile and cry about how good the food is while O’saa is just amused at her enthusiasm.

-Abella is very touchy with him since the start. Often tugging at his shirt or sleeve for his attention, or likes to put her hands on his shoulders. The contact is a bit off putting to him, but not exactly uncomfortable, so he doesn’t really say anything about it.

-Most conflict between them definitely comes from their differences in morals and I can imagine that the arguments about these are actually quite bad and serious. They stay mad at eachother for over a week and then end up making up, each apologizing to eachother in their own ways.

-Abella LOVES to sit in O’saa’s lap while she explains things to him or shows him stuff she’s working on. She’s the yapper and he’s the listener for sure. She just loves having him close to her all the time. He also does, but secretly so.

-O’saa loves to experiment with magic and try different tricks to let Abella watch. Abella is open minded and always curious about how it all happens, she he lets her and revels in how interested she is about it. Abella, though, always tries to think of a «logical » way magic works, and gets confused when O’saa tells her that there is no logic and magic just works in its own ways and no mortal explaination can suit it.

-As time goes on and they grow closer, O’saa starts to become tactile with her as well, in his own ways. Hand on her chin, holding her hand when she’s touching his. He feels miserable about enjoying her presence and her touch so much for a while, guy has not felt romantic love up until now (demiromantic moment for him fr)

-Both of them are autistic. Abella is on a part of the spectrum that gives her huge sense of justice while O’saa is on the part of the spectrum that makes him express and process emotions differently than most people. None of them would know of autism at this era but that’s what they would be referred to as in our era.

-They get together because they both realize that they imagine their future with eachother and they are who they want to be with for as long as they live. Once they are an item, and even before that, I can imagine they send quips to eachother a lot, both like to mess with eachother, and Abella laughs at O’saa’s bad jokes.

-Abella, having raised all her younger siblings, definitely knows the stare and does not fucking hesitate to give it to O’saa when he says something messed up, and he gets the message.

Alright, that’s all I have for today, I possibly have more but this post is already super long as it is. Thank you so much for this ask and enabling me to be insane about them ❤️❤️❤️

[thebrandywine]

20 Questions for Fic Authors

@catgirladjacent tagged me! and i like to infodump! let's go!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

97 including some that are under pseuds, though I did orphan a few once I started fixating on Resident Evil more fully. I was embarrassed lmao

2. What is your AO3 wordcount?

865,796 o__o

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Resident Evil exclusively now!

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

don't worry about this one cuz it's under a pseud lol

[every picture tells a story], 387 kudos

[lantern], 376 kudos

broken machine, 356 kudos

[the quality of mercy], 332 kudos

5. Do you respond to comments?

I do!!! more often than not it's just with some emojis now lol but i relish and treasure every single comment i get

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

oh, this one has yet to be published :) don't worry! <3

7. What is the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

hmm... probably Two Cakes (which is coming out this month)? made me feel all sappy at least :]

8. Do you get hate on fics?

not now, but I definitely got some hateful comments on things when i was a lot younger-- mostly people complaining that i was a bad writer or that i should delete (which i did, so they got their wish lol). now if anything i mostly get people who comment on my stuff to kind of pressure me to update XYZ (the nivannedy catboy fic is notorious for this, which is why i haven't been working on it very much lately). the block button is my friend tho <3

9. Do you write smut? If so, which kind?

yeah :)

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest crossover you’ve ever written?

Nope!

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

no

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

i think someone wanted to at one point and then never did lol

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

i've talked with some people about this before but we've never gotten around to it :P

14. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

i love chreon but there's just SOMETHING about nivannedy---

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

the lethan re7/re8 rewrite. i really want to keep working on them but i just have so much more on my plate that i keep pushing it off, especially when it'll require the research of rewatching playthroughs a few times to reimaging the plot points. maybe one day tho!!

16. What are your writing strengths?

i've been told that my dialog is good which makes me happy because there are a few fics where i'm actually really proud of it :3

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

describing things, especially people! for some reason i always feel like it breaks the flow so i just... am like "there is a man. anyway--" sorry readers but it's your job to imagine him skjfnskdnf

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

i only speak english and i'm also VERY american. i don't personally want to mess around with that because it would be google translate type shit and that's just sad imo :/ so since i don't know enough i will abstain

19. First fandom you wrote for?

pokemon!!!!!!!!! i literally found THE first fic i ever wrote which would have been somewhere between third and fifth grade because i PRINTED IT and DREW PICTURES. it is called The Mysterious Manaphy and makes no sense. i read it aloud to my partner and they howled. yeah, it was just that good

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

listen, i love broken machine, but dualities has seriously taken the cake!!!!!!!!!

thank you for tagging me claire :3 i tag @flurrin @fonulyn and @silvercap!!!

[ghostieeez]

˚₊‧ ꒰ა No Peeking ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

✧.* Hey Girly Series: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

✧.* Content: Ghostface x fem!reader, NSFW, 18+ minors DNI, obsessive behavior, jealousy, stalking, consensual non-consent, blindfolds, bondage, bdsm, choking, slapping, dacryphilia, hair pulling, edging, orgams denial, finger sucking, toe sucking, stabbing, vaginal sex, creampie, degradation kink, perverted!reader, bratty!reader

✧.*‎‎ Summary: You’re sick of Ghostface ignoring you all the time so you make a plan to get his attention. Based on this ask.

✧.*‎ Word Count: 5.2k | AO3 Link

Things were getting a little weird around your house.

At first, it was small things you noticed. Like a picture frame on your shelf being an inch to the right. That’s odd, you thought, but shrugged it off. You must have bumped it or something, no big deal. Sometimes doors in your house would be closed when you swore you left it open. You also noticed articles of clothing going missing from time to time. Sure your dryer loved to eat socks, but now you were losing random stuff too? It started with your favorite shirt, then a cute lacey bra you owned, and most recently a pair of a pair of tights too. You tried so hard to rationalize misplacing them but you were sure you last saw them in the dirty laundry bin. Definitely weird, but no cause for major concern… Right?

Things continued like that for a while, annoying for sure, but harmless. Until one day things weren't so harmless anymore. 

For example, knives in your home started going missing. It was kind of a bitch to cook dinner with only spoons and forks, plus how were you supposed to defend yourself if someone broke into your house? Some mornings you would wake up and a Polaroid picture of your sleeping self would be left on your nightstand. Pretty fucking creepy. Other times you’d come home from work to find your door unlocked. You would check the house for intruders but never found anybody. Still, it was obvious someone had been inside.

Clearly you had a stalker, not that it was a surprise.

You had made it crystal clear you liked being watched by Ghostface, and he made it clear that he very much enjoyed watching you. You never knew this was the extent of what you were signing up for when you slept with him, although with all the strange things he was doing, your infatuation with him only continued to grow.

One day you came home and your front door was actually cracked open. Oh fuck, you thought and your heart rate shot through the roof. He’s either here to kill me or fuck me, and both options had your adrenaline pumping. You carefully entered the house and checked everywhere for him, but yet again, he wasn’t there. You were actually disappointed.

Fucker. He was being such a damn tease. He could snoop around your house all day while you were gone but he couldn’t ever come visit you? It wasn’t like you wanted him to come stop by for long. You didn’t want dinner and a movie. You weren’t asking for sappy shit. You knew things would never be that way with him. You’d never be able to be close to him, you’d never know the real him, but a part of you had already come to terms with that fact. At that point you just wanted to have some more fun with him. After all, the way he touched your body had you desperately craving more.

After you inspected all the rooms in your house, you plopped on the couch and pulled your phone out of your pocket. You opened your text conversation with Ghostface. You never got around to saving his contact, something about that just felt incriminating… having a killer’s phone number saved. His penis has been in your vagina raw but sure girl let’s draw the line there.

The last three messages in the thread were from you. You had sent them a few nights ago. Your texts read heyyy then I’m bored and then the worst one of all, U up? You slapped your hand on your face in embarrassment. None of the messages had even gotten a response.

Not to say he never texted you.

He did, rarely. Every time you did get a text notification you practically pounced on your phone to see if it was from him, and when it was, you would feel so giddy. Yet for some reason in the past few days he was leaving you on delivered more and more frequently than ever. The thought crossed your mind, maybe he’s getting bored of me?

Maybe that would explain why he hadn’t come to visit. You hadn’t seen him or been touched by him in a few weeks. He seemed to love making you wait. You were so pent up and wanted to let some frustration out. Plus you were mad at him for leaving your door ajar, so fuck it, you decided to text him. It wasn’t like you could get any more embarrassed than you were from the horny texts you sent the other night.

Your fingers moved across the keyboard swiftly. Don’t leave my door open, you typed and pressed send. And stop leaving it unlocked too, you quickly added. You pretty much assumed you wouldn’t be getting an answer from him so you threw your phone on the couch and turned on the TV. It only took a few minutes until you felt a vibration from your phone. You grabbed it and glared at the screen. Oh shit, he responded!

It was an accident ;)

You let out a laugh. You could definitely imagine him saying that with his snarky voice. Yeah right asshole, I know it was on purpose, you sent.

His response came instantly, I would never!

You weren’t sure how to respond. This little bickering back and forth thing you had going was cute but how could you say “come rail me”  without sounding too desperate? Then again, maybe you shouldn’t push it, maybe should just enjoy the fact that you were getting a chance to talk to him at all since it didn’t happen often.

Suddenly you felt a little courageous. Why don’t u ever text me back?

Ha. You’re cute, was the text you got in response. The compliment did make your face flush but he didn’t answer your question so you sent him an angry emoticon. Your phone vibrated and you realized Ghostface was calling.

“What?” annoyance was clear in your tone.

He laughed. “Wow rude,” even with the modulator his voice was smooth as always. Hearing it sent a shiver running down your entire body. “I just meant it’s cute you have such a crush on me. You’re so attached.” 

Your first reaction was shock. A part of you even felt a little bashful. Yes he was calling you out but it wasn’t like he was lying. A crush… you hadn’t called it that but it was an accurate word to describe your feelings. You did have a crush on him. 

His words helped you realize something too.

“Oh, I’m so attached? Cause last time I checked I’m not the psycho stalker who breaks into people's houses, am I?” You said smugly, your lips stretching into a smile. “Maybe I have a crush but you’re the one who’s straight up obsessed with me.” The phone line was dead silent, no witty or sarcastic remark from him. In your book that was a win and you wanted to revel in the glory, so you continued, “What’s wrong Ghostie? Cat got your tongue?”

“And you enjoy it, so what does that say about you?” 

“I don’t-”

“I’m not done,” he cut you off, his voice was sharp. You gulped. “You think I don’t see you checking your phone every damn day, hoping so bad that you got a text from me? You think I don’t hear you moaning my name when you touch yourself at night? Hell even now you’re probably getting yourself off from my voice alone.” That wasn’t the case but the thought had already crossed your mind so you couldn’t even argue with him there. He kept berating you, “You’re like a little stray kitten so desperate for my attention. It’s kind of pathetic, doll.”

Ouch. That felt like a blow right to the chest. Pathetic? That’s what he thought of you? You’d be dishonest if you said you didn’t feel like crying after hearing that, but you refused to give him the satisfaction. If he wanted to be mean you could be mean too. You already had a perfect idea in mind.

“Guess I’ll just have to go find attention from someone else then,” you said and ended the call. You switched on do not disturb mode. You didn’t want to hear anything else from him for a while. You checked the time and realized it was still somewhat early in the night, which would work out great for your plan.

You stood from the couch and headed to your bedroom. You grabbed the sluttiest, sexiest outfit the closet had to offer and wasted no time putting it on. It hugged your curves in all the right spots and made your body look great. You finished the look with a little makeup and fixed up your hair so it looked presentable. With that, you were ready. You grabbed your wallet and keys, shoved them in your purse, and headed out the door. You double checked that you locked it and walked down the driveway to your car.

-

Thankfully the drive was short. You pulled into the parking lot of the local bar, some place called the Tipsy Fox. You’d been there a few times with your friends and always had a good time. The drinks were always cheap and strong, thank god. You exited the car and went in.

Immediately you were greeted with bright flashing lights coming from the dance floor. The music was blasting but you could still hear the murmur of people talking and laughing. It wasn’t too crowded but there was still a good amount of people there. If you were lucky, Ghostface followed you there and was inside somewhere, watching you.

You headed towards the bar and made sure to make eye contact with any handsome man you walked by, giving a coy smile as you passed. One guy in particular seemed mesmerized by you. His eyes were glued to the sway of your hips and rear. Hook, line, and sinker. This is gonna be so easy.

You lifted yourself onto a barstool and crossed your legs. Your short clothing cupped the curve of your ass and exposed your thighs just the way you intended. You looked damn appetizing if you did say so yourself. Out of the corner of your eye you saw that guy get up from his seat and approach you. 

“Can I buy you a drink?” He asked. The rest was history.

You two chatted for a little while you sipped on your drink. You had found out his name was Devin, not that it really mattered. You gave him your name as well. After a few drinks you were feeling pretty good. 

“Let’s go dance!” You grabbed his hand and led him to the dance floor. 

“Okay but I’m warning you, I’m not very good,” he said and laughed nervously. He was pretty cute. He seemed like a sweet guy and you were actually enjoying your night with him so far. 

You positioned yourself in front of him and draped your arms over his shoulders. He placed his hands on your hips. The two of you swayed to the music. 

“I’m having a great time,” you told him, speaking close to his ear so he could hear you over all the noise.

Your words seemed to give him a boost of confidence and he took hold of your hand and twirled you around so your back was pressed against his chest. You ground your hips backwards, moving along to the beat of the music.

The two of you danced for a while, laughing and spinning and fawning all over each other. This was the most fun you’d had in a while. It seemed like nowadays most of your time was spent daydreaming about Ghostface and this was a great getaway. With him, you were just used to one-sided text conversations, so being with a guy who actually paid attention to you was nice.

You wished you could spend all night on the dance floor with Devin but it was getting late and your feet were killing you. You told him you were going to head home and you hoped he would offer to take you to his place. 

Instead, he said, “Let me give you a ride home, you drank a lot more than I did.” You smiled. How sweet. He was right, you were pretty buzzed so there was no way you’d be getting behind the wheel. You’d have to pick your car up tomorrow.

The two of you left the Tipsy Fox and hopped in his car. You gave him directions to your house and he pulled into the driveway.

You sat in silence for a few seconds before you spoke, “Tonight was fun.”

“Yeah it was,” he replied.

“Did you… want to come inside?”

“As much as I would love to, I can’t. I have work tomorrow so I should head home and get some sleep,” he sounded disappointed. “But I’d love to see you again. Maybe you’d let me take you on a real date?”

You nodded and told him you would like that, so the two of you exchanged numbers. You leaned closer to him and glanced down at his lips. He caught on quickly and closed the distance between you two with a kiss. It only lasted a few seconds before you pulled away from each other. If Ghostface was watching you at any point of the night, you really hoped it was during that kiss. You said your goodbyes and hopped out of the vehicle and headed inside with a wide smile on your face. 

You checked your phone for the first time of the night and saw missed calls and texts from Ghostface. Good. Hopefully now he realized it didn’t feel good to be ghosted. You threw your purse down and walked towards your bedroom, slipping your shoes off as you stepped. Suddenly a hand was covering your mouth and another was wrapped around your throat squeezing with immense force. You couldn’t breathe at all. You thrashed endlessly, trying to free yourself from your captor’s tight grip, to no avail. All you could hear was the sound of your muffled screams as your consciousness slowly faded. The last thought running through your head was just oh shit.

-

You opened your eyes only to see pitch black. Your head was reeling in pain and everything felt fuzzy. You blinked your eyes a few times trying to adjust your vision to the darkness only to realize something was covering them. A blindfold. You could tell you were laying down in your bed but a quick attempt to sit upright made you aware that your arms and legs were bound. You yanked your limbs around and felt the burning sensation of rope digging into your skin. You were tied to the bedposts. What even happened?

Then it hit you. You had gone to the bar to try to make Ghostface jealous. Well… mission accomplished?

“Looks who’s finally awake,” his voice startled you and you flinched. He chuckled at your reaction. He was standing there so silently, you didn’t even realize he was in the room with you, watching you. Honestly, what else were you expecting? He walked to the side of the bed and reached to touch your blindfold, adjusting it to fit you perfectly. “No peeking,” he said in a teasing sing-song voice.

“Yeah, as if I even could. Untie me,” you demanded through gritted teeth.

“Hmmmmm…” You could imagine him tapping his finger to his chin, pretending to ponder the thought. “No.”

“W-why…” You trailed off, unsure what to say. How could you even get yourself out of this situation?

In an instant his hand was on your throat for the second time of the night. You coughed and sputtered loudly. He leaned all his weight onto your neck as he climbed on the bed and swung a leg over you so he was straddling your hips. He brought his other hand to your face and caressed your lips with his thumb, rubbing just so gently. You could smell the leather of his glove. 

His hand retread from your lips and before you knew it you felt a sharp, burning pain across your cheek. It took a second for you to register that he’d slapped you. You couldn’t help the groan that came out of your mouth. It hurt like a bitch but something about how aggressive he was being had you turned on already. It also served a reminder that you were completely helpless against him. Tied to the bed, blindfolded, unable to escape him. He could do whatever he wanted to you.

But… did you really want to escape though? The anticipation of not knowing what to expect next was exhilarating. Your heart was racing, body trembling, pussy throbbing. 

His hand came down hard on your face another time. Your skin felt like it was on fire and your jaw was already getting sore. His other hand released your throat. Before you could even gasp for air he had already dug his fingers into your hair and tugged your head harshly to the side. You heard him fidgeting with something for a second before he leaned his body down towards you.

“You are such a fucking slut,” his words practically dripped with venom. His voice sounded different though, there was no modulator. He had taken off his mask. His face was mere inches away from you. You were so close to him yet the damn blindfold would prevent you from getting a look. Frustrating. You heard ragged breaths coming from his lips. He was pissed.

“I’m not,” you said as you shook your head side to side weakly. His hold on your hair tightened.

“Don’t you fucking lie to me,” he raised his voice louder with each word. His hot breath fanned across your face as he continued, “You were all over that guy. I saw everything.” There were tons of other people in the bar so you weren’t surprised that he was spying on you from the crowd. It was exactly what you were hoping for. It was your plan to get him jealous, after all, plus you wanted him to experience how it felt to get ignored for a night. He deserved a taste of his own medicine. 

You couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of your mouth. Smack! His hand left another painful sting on your face. Your whole body jolted in surprise. With the blindfold on you had no clue what his next move would be. You knew you were going to regret what you were about to say, but the words were already leaving your mouth before you could stop them. 

“Aww, it’s cute how attached you are,” you taunted him in a sugary sweet tone, using his own cruel words from earlier against him.

You braced yourself for a slap but one never came. Instead, you felt a blazing pain on your arm. Tears pricked the edges of your eyes and you wailed out. He had pierced you with his blade. You couldn’t tell how deep it was, but you knew it was deep enough to hurt like hell and that’s all you could even think about. You felt blood oozing from the wound immediately. Your sheets must’ve been ruined.

“Admit you’re a slut and maybe I’ll think about making your punishment less painful.”

You pressed your lips in a thin line, refusing to say anything to him. He twisted the knife in your flesh causing an even more intense pain to shoot through your arm.

“Okay! I-I’ll say it, just take the knife out,” your voice was quivering. Apparently he still wasn’t happy with that. The blade kept twisting, tearing apart your flesh so slow and agonizing. You couldn’t take it. “Please, stop, I’m begging! Please! I am a slut. I’m s-so sorry!” you cried out.

Surprisingly, he stopped, and the blade withdrew. You were about to let out a sigh of relief when you felt him shove his fingers into your open wound. You actually screamed, that’s how bad it hurt.

“You are mine,” he spat the words at you. “You belong to me, and only me.”

Your head was clouded with pain, it was hard to even form coherent thoughts. All you could muster was a tearful “I’m sorry.”

“I want to hear you say it,” his voice was demanding, and the suffering he was causing you was unbearable.

 “I belong to you…” You felt so embarrassed saying the words. Yet at the same time, a part of you liked saying it. And even if you didn’t want to admit it, you liked hearing him say it too. His possessiveness was hot as fuck. Apparently your plan worked a little too well.

He removed his fingers, but the torment wasn’t done. 

“Aw, are you actually blushing?” He laughed at you and your shame only intensified. Your face felt so warm. “You like this, don’t you?” 

“Yes…” you answered. You couldn’t help how quiet your voice sounded.

“Are you going to behave for the rest of the night?” He asked. You felt his hand rubbing your arm gently, almost sweetly. You nodded in response. “Good, that’s my girl.”

You felt him lean down and suddenly he was kissing you. The act took you by surprise. You felt butterflies in your stomach. He wasted no time deepening the kiss. He licked along your lips, which you opened willingly. Your tongues twirled sloppily and you loved every second of it. He moved a hand to your breast and started massaging it. He pulled away from you, leaving a trail of spit connecting your two mouths. 

“Let’s get these out of the way,” he said and before you knew it he was cutting off your clothes, the ones you had worn to the bar. He wasn’t exactly being the gentlest, either. You felt little knicks from his blade as he weaved it between your skin and clothing. It took a few seconds for him to haphazardly shred the clothes and toss the scraps to the floor.

“Hey! I really liked that outfit,” you pouted. “Plus it made my ass look great.”

“Yeah it did,” it sounded like he was smiling. 

Now that you were completely bare, he started kissing your chest. He flicked his tongue over your nipples, licking slowly. He moved down your body, kissing, nipping, and biting along the way until he was lying flat between your legs and his lips were right in front of your pussy. Instead of licking you or touching you or doing literally anything you were craving, he remained still. The excitement was nearly killing you.

“Ghostface… please…”

He leaned his head against your leg and bit down on your thigh. You couldn’t help squirming as he gave you an array of hickies. He was being rough. He might’ve even drawn blood in some areas but you couldn’t tell for sure. Your pussy felt achingly ignored. He was definitely doing it on purpose.

“I need you, please,” you whined.

“Need me to what, kitten?” The name caught you off guard. That was what he called you earlier when he said you were desperate for his attention; a stray kitten.

As embarrassed as you were to say the words, you spoke anyways, “Need you to touch me. I want you so bad.”

He laughed. “I already am touching you.”

“You know what I mean!” You startled when you felt his finger swipe a line up your pussy, gathering your slick on his finger. Your surprise quickly turned to arousal.

“So wet for me already,” he said and continued to move his finger ever so slowly. He touched it to your clit and circled it around your entrance teasingly. It felt like he was going for hours when in reality it had just been a few minutes. You were getting impatient.

You heard him spit and felt a glob of his saliva dripping down your folds. With that, he finally pressed his finger inside of you. It felt amazing. He added another finger and pistoned the digits in and out. You were already moaning but the intensity increased as soon as you felt his tongue start swirling around your clit while he fingered you.

“Ohh fuck, that feels so good,” you said. You could already feel your climax approaching and knew it wouldn’t take much longer. His tongue felt wonderful as he lapped, licked, and slurped you up like you were the last meal he’d ever get to eat.

Just as you felt your orgasm about to boil over, he removed his fingers and tongue from your body. 

You instantly cried out in disappointment, “Ugh! I was so close!”

“I know,” was all he said, then resumed the motions. Tongue licking, fingers curling and stretching you so deliciously. The both of you were moaning in sync. It wasn’t long until you felt your release approaching once more.

Just like the time before, he stopped, preventing your orgasm.

It continued like that for what felt like eternity. Your legs were shaking, your breathing was rough, and you felt so damn frustrated. Every time you got close, he stopped completely. As undignified as it was, you had even tried begging, “Please, please let me cum. I promise I’ll never even look at another guy. I just want you.” 

“What makes you think you deserve to cum?” Was his response. “Dirty whores don’t get rewarded.”

You groaned. At that point you were wondering if he planned on doing this to you all night. He had mentioned something about a punishment earlier and this sure felt like one. You finally broke when he pulled out his fingers for the sixth damn time. Tears spilled over the edges of your eyes and flowed past the blindfold, down your face.

“I can’t take it anymore,” you said, voice trembling, quiet sobs wracking through your body. “Please, just s-stop already.”

“Poor little baby,” he said, his tone clearly mocking. He reached a hand up to your face and wiped the tears off your cheek. “But you look so pretty when you cry. It’s really turning me on.” He moved upright and positioned himself in a way that had his cock pressed against your pussy. He still had his clothes on but you could feel that he was hard. He rocked his hips back and forth slightly and even that small amount of friction felt so amazing. He pulled his member out of his pants and brought it right back to your entrance. You were hoping he’d hurry up and put it in, but of course he didn’t. He slapped it on your pussy, prodded at your hole, and rubbed the tip on your clit.

You really just wanted to scream. You tried to wiggle your hips to encourage him, but you didn’t have much mobility since your limbs were tethered to the bed.

“I want to hear how bad you want my cock.” He pressed the tip into your hole ever so slightly, just to take it right back out. 

“I want it so bad! Please, put it in.”

“I don’t know, doll. It doesn’t sound like you’re trying that hard to convince me.”

After everything you had been through that night, you were sure you had no pride left anyway, so you went all in. “I can’t get you out of my head, okay? I spend all day thinking about you. Wishing you were paying more attention to me, wishing you would touch me. I only went to the bar because I just wanted to make you jealous. I wanted to see if you even cared. You’re the best fuck I’ve ever had and I literally can’t stop fantasizing about it. I’ve been begging for it all night, would you please just fuck me already? What more do I have to say to-”

Before you could finish he shifted his hips forward and slammed his cock into you. You couldn’t help the slew of curses and moans that came from your mouth as he pounded aggressively. 

You heard a slice and the tautness of the ropes that were tied to your ankles decreased. He had cut your legs free. You wondered why for a second before he grabbed hold of your foot and brought it up to his mouth.

“What are you doing-” His tongue darted out and licked one of your toes, before taking the whole thing into his mouth and sucking. You tried to pull your foot away but he held it tight in place. “H-hey, stop that! I’m ti-ticklish!” You couldn’t even get the sentence out without giggling between nearly every word. He continued to suck one toe at a time. His tongue danced around each one, and that combined with his hard thrusts had you wriggling and writhing like crazy. It was such an interesting sensation but you couldn’t say you disliked it. 

He kept snapping his hips forward, rutting into you, rough as ever. He moved both of your legs so that they were placed over his shoulders. With the new position it felt like his cock was buried so deep inside of you. He leaned down towards you and kissed you while he fucked you. 

He pulled away from the kiss and said, “Open your mouth.” Your mind was so hazy with lust you didn’t even question it. You opened your lips and your tongue lolled out. You felt something wet dripping into your mouth and realized he had spit in it. Fuck, that’s hot, you thought. He brought his thumb to your tongue and smeared his saliva around. He wasn’t wearing his gloves and you could taste his skin. “Suck it,” he said, shoving his thumb deeper into your mouth, and you obeyed.

He was ramming into you with such speed and force. All that was coming from your mouth was slurred praise and whines for him to fuck you harder. With just a few more strokes, you finally reached orgasm for the first time of the night. Your legs felt like putty and you could barely hold them up anymore.

“Want you to cum in me,” you said. “Pleaseee, Ghostface!” You got what you asked for and you were happy to feel bursts of his cum shoot into you. You were on cloud nine. 

You felt so empty as he pulled his cock out of you. His semen rushed out of your hole onto the sheets, which were already stained with your blood so you didn’t care much about the mess. You both were silent for a few seconds while you caught your breath. He got off you and you heard shuffling so you assumed he was getting dressed.

He cut the remaining ropes off you, finally. You were about ready to rip that damn blindfold off. Before you could, he grabbed hold of your chin and jerked your head to the side so he could whisper in your ear, “Next time you piss me off, I won’t be so nice.”

You made a mental note to get him angry way more often.

[britcision]

Ah, WIP Wednesday, all the energy I was missing for this fic has come back with a bang

Just little snacks for y’all today though, just in case it doesn’t carry through. And if it does, well, you’ll get the next chapter all the sooner! ���

——————

I’ll Take The Highway

Time was almost slipping away too quickly in the milkshake bar, and Danny wished he didn’t have to keep an eye on it.

(Well. Seriously hoped. Even in the privacy of his head, he couldn’t make it a wish.)

He had to get Tucker back to MIT though, and back to Gotham in a reasonable time frame to get to bed before class tomorrow.

If he got to bed before midnight, there might be a chance for he and Jason to run to the Far Frozen in the morning. Or after, Danny’s classes didn’t run late. Or…

He was missing out on the fun today, trying to plan tomorrow. Much as Jazz would love him being more organised, he pushed it to the back of his mind.

They’d visit Frostbite soon. And find out how Jason’s core was, though Danny was beginning to think he knew. Here, when Jason was happy and relaxed? Not tensed, shut down, or angry?

Danny could definitely feel something he hadn’t before. Not exactly the same as another ghost, or any of the other halfas, not yet.

But it was almost like Box Lunch’s fresh core seen through a house of mirrors.

Maybe that was what had him so close to the edge today? It was taking some pretty serious effort not to react to even the mention of an old threat to Jason.

Jason, the sweet baby ghost.

And if his smile was a little sappy at that thought, well, that was no one’s business but his own. At least he had something to sit on for when his rogues started embarrassing baby stories.

Finally he couldn’t put it off anymore. Too much to do, friends to fly across country, and he still hadn’t found a good way to ask. He just… well.

He’d given Jason all the server info, the stuff about who his rogues were, how he beat them, the things they’d learned about the Infinite Realms. They’d even shared some stories around different bits.

That didn’t exactly explain what he wanted to ask Waylon about. And it really wasn’t something he was comfortable sharing just yet, even if he already knew it was dumb.

Jason was a good guy. Who hung out with Batman, who was apparently an asshole. He wouldn’t judge Danny for having some dark and fucked up stories in all the zany ones.

Fuck, maybe Waylon could tell him how Jason would react. It was gonna come up, it’d have to, and Danny really would feel better having someone else’s opinion.

He was reluctant to interrupt their good time, another story devolving into laughter, but it was getting into the afternoon and… well, he also had no idea how long this would take.

“Hey, uh, by the way. I’ve gotta head out in a bit, dropping Tuck back off in Massachusetts, I just wanted to talk to Waylon for a minute first? In private?” Because if Danny had learned one thing?

Direct worked best.

It worked now, Harley nodding along and hopping up, cartwheeling her way along the table and out of the booth.

“Say no more, Danno! C’mon, Jayjay, I wanted ta catch up with you on somethin’ too, so this works perfectly!” She declared cheerfully, giving Jason a fond tug to his fluffy white streak of hair.

Jason shot Danny a look that was half commiserating, half curious as he slid out of the both after her, but Danny was too busy staring into an imagined hellscape where Harley met Jack Fenton.

Fuck Dan, the world couldn’t handle that.

By the time he came back to himself, he and Waylon were alone in the booth, the big man watching him curiously.

“So, what’s on yer mind, kid?” He asked in a low voice, folding his arms on the edge of the table and leaning in.

Secret villain hideaway or not, this wasn’t something Danny wanted just anyone overhearing, so he beckoned Waylon closer to his end of the booth first, tucked into the wall.

The big guy slid his way surprisingly delicately down the seat, then leaned in again, watching Danny expectantly.

Which was when Danny realised he shoulda probably thought about a good way to put this.

Blunt it was gonna have to be.

“So… you… Harley said people called you Killer Croc before you ever hurt anyone?” He said in a rush, flinching at how bad it actually sounded said aloud.

Waylon… did not have eyebrows to raise, and it was really fucking weird that he was noticing that now, but it was definitely what he’d been doing, and Danny was distracting himself again.

“They did,” Waylon agreed a moment later, his voice low and even. Guard up, but not defensive. Not closing the topic off.

Danny huffed out a sigh, and found he couldn’t quite meet the man’s eyes. Found himself intently examining the diamond pattern on the formica tables. His own hands, twisting in front of him over that pattern.

“You… you became what they said you were. A monster.” The words caught in his throat, hard to spit out and shit he thought he was past this.

It had been years.

A scaled green hand covered his, and Danny found himself surprised by how smooth the scales were. Far from soft, but not rough. Almost smoother than the table.

“Who called you a monster, kid?” Waylon asked softly, his voice gruff with something too close to understanding.

Danny’s head snapped up and he shook it quickly, sucking in a deep breath.

“Oh, no one. Not for like, a really long time now. And they said sorry and everything, it’s not that. It’s… you gave into it. Let them make you something wrong and dangerous, and you stopped. How did you stop?” He asked quietly, finally finding it easier to look at Waylon’s face.

He looked surprised.

——————

Tag List: @welcometosasakiworld @kyrianclawraith @someonebored0100 @stealingyourbones @starkcravingmad @frostedthroughghost @akikkobara @rainbowbunny0159 @littlefeather345 @violet-catsarelife @serasvictoria02 @wolfjackle @blacksea21090 @secretdestinywerewolf @anime-hipster-the-amazing @undead-essence @skitscratched @blackroserelina @snoodly-boop @trickerdi @mayoota-blog @xysidhe @idkmrpianoman @little-apricot-the-writer @chaoticmistake @the-legal-shipper @bun-fish @aroranorth-west @demon-cat-goes-woof @perfectwastelandcreation @onyxlightdragon @larks-and-katydids @peachesandcreamfemboy @jesus-camp-the-sequel @may-rbi @mothman-the-mothman87 @viyatrix @stargirl1331 @idfk-man10 @thedepressedrobin @skulld3mort-1fan @rootsmudge @ravenshadow17 @cankoking @phantom-dc @mentalcarebear @magic-pincushion @redamancyardor @lyra689 @itsparadoxlacuna @alcorbearson @asphyxia778 @why-must-i-be-like-this @tkiesai

[twsthottakes]

imma be honest.... I'm quite pissed that Silver x Idia is not that famous. No it's not because I think this ship is better than the other yadda yadda.... it's just I DON'T HAVE ENOUGH SILIDIA FOOD TO FEAST :(((((((((((((( So if any artist/writer sees this and u see a potential between them... give it to me *gremlin noises* also pray for my wallet so one day I could commission my ship instead of weeping anonly thankyouuuurrr<3<3<3<3<3

HELPPP-

I'm personally more of an Azul enjoyer, but as a fellow rare pair fan, I absolutely get where you're coming from. And Silidia seems like a really interesting pairing! Two introverted people, and yet their perception on others is completely different, with Silver viewing others in a much more positive light than Idia.

While I absolutely understand your plight, if you haven't written or drawn anything for them yet, you might want to try! I used to feel the same way about a rarepair of mine, actually. Specifically, how it felt like all the authors for that ship clearly liked one character more. And I thought no one out of even the very few people who wrote for it would be interested in seeing anything I had to share, because 1. I wasn't confident in my own writing abilities (partially due to my age and lack of experience writing) and 2. The particular ideas I had were quite unpopular, not only rarepair centered but also favoring the character who most fans didn't favor.

But then, I was met with the pleasant surprise of people actually giving me a chance! People read my fics, and commented on them telling me how much they liked it! It was kind of crazy in a good way.

So yeah, if you haven't already, you might want to give making your own stuff a chance. You might even end up inspiring others and getting them into your ship!

But hey, not everyone likes writing or drawing, and if you already make stuff for your ship, this whole ramble was just a load of hot air. So take a complimentary Silidia drabble (below the cut) and see if my writing's even good enough for me to be listened to.

"So Ganyu's DPS seems good, but considering the powercreep, and how OP dendro is-"

The feeling of something soft on his shoulder stopped Idia.

"E-Eh, Silver...?"

It was Silver. Silver just fell asleep on his shoulder.

Silver just fell asleep on his shoulder. Silver just-

Fuck. Was this a special event or a final boss? Idia could barely tell.

"Ortho," he whispered. Would Silver wake up if he was too loud? Wait, no. Silver was a heavy sleeper. That was clear enough from how Idia's overheating hadn't woken him up yet.

Wait, no. Ortho was out with Ace-shi. He wasn't here to help.

Wait, but what would he even help with? Getting Silver to wake up? Doing that was getting the chance to unlock an extra-rare special event and just throwing it away! Only some weirdo who thought speedrunning a VN—wait, no, Idia'd done that before—would do that. But irl romance wasn't something Idia wanted to speedrun! It wasn't even something he even thought he'd get to have!

Motion. Fuck, w-was Silver waking up? Did Idia's overheating really get to him?

"Idia..."

"S-Sorry, I-"

"I love you too, Idia."

Huh? Where'd that even come from?

"Yes, our wedding was quite lovely, Idia. However, I must admit, your decision for a Cowboy theme certainly caught me off-guard."

Just a dream, then. Never mind.

W-Wait a second, they were married? Just in the dream, but still! They were married in there? Silver thought of them doing that?

Heh, he must've really seen their relationship going places, then.

Idia definitely didn't smile like some sappy romcom love interest at that. He did, however, calm down just a bit.

This was actually pretty based.