#fond of this one it was fun ta make

[fluxydrawings]

woah! 1 hr 22 min podfic (real). yall know that clownzy fic? yeah that one fic. u can hear it in ur earholes now :)

[theyoungeragrippina]

🫶🏻 15 gentlebeard/blackbonnet fic recs

(17 if you squint)

hey legends, in this bittersweet period where a lot of a us are feeling gutted but simultaneously, rebelliously hopeful, i've emerged from my reading den to showcase to you all some of the brilliant talent we have in this fandom! these fics are some of the best of the best, and i hope you love them just as much as i do! <3

they are all complete, do not feature any ongoing steddyhands/edizzy/stizzy, and are above 20k words.

peruse part 1, part 2, and part 3 at your leisure if you want to compare our tastes/devour more fine literature, or check out my masterlist as an ao3 collection.

adrift between the dreaming seas by @dandy-pirate-time

49k, mature, locked

stede lives a cursed life on a moving island, until the monotony of his days is suddenly interrupted by the fearsome kraken.

this was such a fascinating & incredible idea! i love how it manipulates aspects of the original story and transforms them into parts of the cursed island <3 sweet & unique & magical. i want to hug poor stede.

Five Birthdays and a Funeral by @bizarrelittlemew

58k, explicit

"When Ed and Stede's friend groups merge, they meet at a birthday party, and Stede's life is turned upside-down. As they collide again and again, he not only has to figure out what Ed means to him, but what he means to himself."

stede gets to be oblivious and a bit of a silly goose as a treat. also: treasure hunts, lucius is the best, ed has a cat whom i would die for, such a sweet & heartfelt fic. you will be so unbelievably fond of this version of every character.

The Ghost of Frigate Point Lighthouse by @piratecaptainscaptainpirates

53k, explicit

"When history professor Stede Bonnet goes to investigate rumors of a ghost haunting the local lighthouse, he's thrust into a mystery centered around the ghost of one of the most famous pirates of all time."

was SO eager to read this and it did not disappoint!! it has everything - fun, magic, mystery, tired TA lucius, and a lil bit of seduction. good enough that i am worried the author may actually just be a sea witch recollecting events he personally witnessed.

Haunted by @thepirateroo

60k, explicit

"The Kraken is a famous spiritualist, working the music halls of 1920s London to help families communicate with their dead. But Stede Bonnet knows that underneath the fame and illustrious title, Edward Teach works as a ghost hunter, debunking the spirits he makes his living off."

this is, genuinely, in the top 5 fanfics i have read for any fandom EVER. i wouldn't bat an eyelid if i read this exact work as a published novel in a bookstore. the mystery is so good and had me guessing and re-theorising constantly, the characterisation is brilliant, and the emotions are perfect. i cried, i laughed, i felt sick with worry for the characters, and i couldn't stop reading until i was done.

haunt me, then by @hyruling

28k, explicit

"He releases the ropes slowly, barely registering the burn as they slip through his fingers. Then, fallible as Orpheus, turns to meet his ghost."

post s1 fixit fics ily. everyone needs some therapy. really VERY well written and a joy to read.

Homeward Bound by mari_who

51k, explicit

"In the long-ago year 2000, bouncy blonde boy-band member Stede Bonnet is 17-year-old Edward Teach's gay awakening. Decades later, Ed hears a voice he could never forget."

i said 'ohhh no poor ed/stede' so many times while reading this. a lovely exploration of emotion and human connection, and finding yourself when everyone else has always defined who you are on your behalf.

I just need some air by @cuddlytogas

26k, teen

"Stede Bonnet's been having panic attacks for almost as long as he can remember, suffocated by pressure and expectation... When [he] finally takes his life back — divorces Mary, moves to Melbourne, starts his own event management business — things get better, but he's still no good at parties. He still needs some air, even at the very events he's brought to fruition. Meanwhile, Edward Teach, renowned chef and owner of Blackbeard's Catering, is wondering why the newest bigwig in events still hasn't hired him."

zoomed through this faster than lightning mcqueen. such a lovely writing of stede, ed and the whole crew - it feels like there's depth in every character, even background ocs.

also fantastic australia rep (i was jumpscared by mention of the cotton on group) AND i've been to the bar the final scene takes place at!!!! most exciting reading experience of my life.

i'll be your treasure by @monksofthescrew

48k, mature

"Wasn't the Dread Pirate Blackbeard rumored to have a hoard hidden somewhere near Essex? It's a metal detecting AU. They're detectorists. They fall in love."

i LOVE this fic so much it is just,,,, so sweet. stede does self-discovery and is seduced. ed is a bit of a goose and i'm obsessed with him. doug and mary are lovely. alma is so cool and i love her.

+ the sequel! drift o'er the rolling hills, swim through the briny sea (made me cry. btw. doug keeps being the best.)

The Kraken's Sacrifice by @trinityofone

22k, explicit

"Every year, a person is chosen—supposedly at random—to be sacrificed to the Kraken, to quell the sea's worst storms and to stop the taking of ships... Stede discovers that there is much more to the creature than he was led to believe—and that they have a deeper connection than he could have ever dreamed."

i LOVED this okay. it was funny and sweet and gave an interesting spin to the ed-is-the-kraken genre. get both of these boys some self-esteem asap. also comes with art by @avatoh!!!!!

lovers in a dangerous time by @veeagainsttheday

52k, explicit

pacific rim au - "Edward Teach becomes a jaeger pilot, first with Izzy Hands and later with Stede Bonnet. It’s not easy trying to save the world and falling in love with your drift partner…"

made me feel every emotion under the sun, including foaming at the mouth jealous that i don't have a drift partner. absolutely, masterfully written. i've popped this link first since its the fic that focuses on stede & ed, but it was written as a prequel for:

+ catagory five: a shatterdome romance by @owlinaminor (27k, mature), which focuses predominantly on jim & oluwande, and which i also massively recommend reading (first). it's told through lucius' words and made up of journalistic notes and transcriptions, and its really terribly clever. i knew nothing about pacific rim before this, and now i'm really very invested. if i wrote something this fantastic (& creative & wildly unique) i would never shut up about it.

More of the Gravy Basket than of the Grave by @veeagainsttheday

36k, explicit

"Ed and Stede’s ‘unorthodox friendship’ ended four months ago when Stede left Ed without a word after Ed asked him to run away to a parallel universe with him. They’re thrown back together when they’re summoned to perform a supernatural exorcism at the Hillside Hotel during a blizzard."

this has got to be one of the coolest and most creative fics i have ever had the pleasure of reading. genuinely kept me guessing and so so intrigued, PLUS the most sweet stede & ed dynamic!!!

Nothing Missing in My Life by @semisweetshadow

63k, explicit, locked

"Hollywood action star Ed Teach is bored with his celebrity life. Everything changes when he meets Stede, a sweet extra working on the set of his latest film shoot. Stede doesn't know who Ed really is and treats him like a real person and Ed can't help wanting to keep him."

ed plays an action hero called jeff the accountant, and if that's not immediately the greatest synopsis ever idk how else to win you over. hilarious, clever, & so heartfelt. i gasped and said 'oh no' with a hand over my heart nearly as many times as i laughed out loud.

not pickles by smallestchurch

84k, explicit

"Ed's minding his business when the new neighbor's kid comes around holding a human puppet. It's creepy as hell, but as soon as the kid's father rounds the corner, Ed doesn't mind."

i actually feel a bit ill when i think about this fic because i love it so overwhelmingly. there's family, and healing, and good food and friends, and ed teach and louis bonnet become the dynamic duo they always had the potential to be.

Our Fangs Mean Death by @flawedamythyst

87k, teen, locked

"Master Vampire Blackbeard's afterlife is enlivened by the arrival of a new coven in town, lead by the self-styled Gentleman Vampire. Now here's a Master who doesn't mind shaking things up by wearing clothes 300 years out of date, buying a massive gothic mansion for a lair, and leading the most eclectic coven Blackbeard has ever seen."

ridiculously fun. this is the vampire novel/fic i didn't know i needed and i loved every silly second. stede really gets to fulfil his dad-ness. i'm furious i can't join the gentleman vampires coven irl, will just need to embrace the gothic vampire aesthetic in my own life.

Wayfaring by @justkeeptrekkin

35k, explicit

"The downside to being stuck on a desert island is that Stede's not awfully good at adapting. The upside is that he and Ed can finally have some peace and quiet– that is, if Ed ever wakes up from the gunshot wound in his stomach."

the sweetest desert island fic, feat. the cutest piglet in the world, a little bit of pining, a helpful skeleton named dusty, and some of the best & most accurately written stede and ed content ever (imo).

[aeor-is-for-reccing]

MODERN AU: A Shadowgast Rec List

This week, we have modern AU! Check under the cut for a whopping 24 fics that all take place in modern times, and don't forget to comment and kudos if you like them!

LOVE & OTHER ENCHANTMENTS by LivThael (2092, General) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

An imagined review and synopsis of a movie about a Shadowgast modern-setting bookstore AU.

Reccer says: Hilariously awful, I say with great love, and by that I mean it purposefully and artfully swan dives out of the AU tree and hits every trope on the way down. This was written to be as cursed as possible, and Liv really delivers both that and non-stop laughs. This is clearly a love letter to terrible romcoms, cliché fanfic tropes, and the Shadowgast fandom as a whole. A+ satire, PLEASE read this!

like 80/20 on the kinsey scale by jakia (2772, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Caleb bangs his hot TA and panics about it the next day. Beau did not sign up for listening to this.

Reccer says: Caleb -- who's only dated women before -- discovers he LOVES the D.

ask to be unbroken by chaotic_geeky (40038, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes, Unfinished Cliffhanger

Caleb gets a last minute chance to be a photographer at a big runway event. He meets the star model at the afterparty, and things go from there.

Reccer says: The premise is great, the story is excellent, and the characters are enthralling. It does end on an unfinished cliffhanger, but the beginning is so good it's worth it.

Fundamental Forces Other Than Gravity by mllekurtz (TheKnittingJedi) (40676, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

How cold, ruthless and lonely Essek Thelyss (a brilliant student with a secret) accidentally makes some friends and falls in love: a Shadowgast college AU.

Reccer says: This is a fantastic college AU! And the characterization is done so well it's phenomenal.

a smile is more than showing teeth by thought (13642, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

"you are welcome in Zadash should that be an option for you," Caleb had written, "and I would be pleased to set aside a few days to work with you in person." Or How to seduce your academic pen pal through basic kindness, stolen sweaters, and books. Mostly books.

Reccer says: This is the start of an incredible AU with two more after it in the series. I love this version of Essek and Caleb falling in love. SO MUCH.

Paradigm Shift by full_time_dreamer_behold (114291, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Caleb joins a law firm. He meets Essek, the IT manager. Things happen. They fall in love

Reccer says: It's a super sweet slow burn!! Essek and Beau have a really fun dynamic and the budding romance is very satisfying.

(your face in my hands is) everything good i need by mllekurtz (25884, Mature) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Academics Caleb and Essek are nerds and fall in love over the course of a conference

Reccer says: I liked it!

like colored indigo inscribed with my name by KmacKatie (kmackatie) (30648, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

An exploration of tradition, culture, what is worth sacrificing in finding yourself and family. Essek learns how to make a new family.

Reccer says: This is an incredible pic with a lot of beautiful world and culture building set into it. Though I love the idea that Essek knits, I am especially fond of the other handcrafts that the Dynasty may do culturally, and this one does such a great job with it. And the interpersonal relationships are absolutely incredible!

we learn to live with the pain, mosaic broken hearts by vegabondfirelily (5777, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Sometimes things don't go as planned. Caleb will always be there for Essek, though, even after a life-changing accident. Non-linear narrative, angst with a better ending

Reccer says: I love this pic, even if it makes me cry every time. It is emotional and brilliant.

the fire kept closest (burns most of all) by Mousecookie (21822, Mature) Reccer's Content Notes: Major Character Death

Takes place on a modern Rumblecusp, Essek and Caleb are volcanologists. Absolutely bonkers genre mashup of scifi disaster thriller ghost story romance that somehow works. There is a MCD warning but it is also tagged as Happy Ending and that does come through!

Reccer says: The writing style is like watching a movie and it made me cry both sad and happy tears.

Starting with your heart (bright heart) by 2manyboys (9914, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Essek and Caleb have been taking showers together, but it's totally platonic, they swear

Reccer says: I liked it!

scene: a shift in tempo by hanap (6790, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Essek, first soloist of Rosohna Ballet, comes across the mountains in an exchange to be Caleb's new partner.

Reccer says: A beautiful fic! I love the way the AU fits our characters so beautifully, and how it honors ballet while also subverting it just a little. Gorgeous!

A King in Cat's Clothes by royalgreen (1544, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Frumpkin is extremely suspicious of this interloper Essek who keeps visiting Frumpkin's domain (the cat cafe) and sniffing around Frumpkin's human

Reccer says: Frumpkin's POV is utterly hilarious. He is so angry that Essek is sweetly romancing Caleb.

read between the lines (everything is gradual) by SpottedEnchanse (SpottedEnchants) (3047, General) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

A series in which Caleb owns a cat cafe. It's amazing.

Reccer says: SpottedEnchanse's writing can do literally no wrong ever. It's like flossing for the brain

the golden thread around your neck whispered visions of my undoing by MarsBar2019 (191412, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Essek is the CEO of an arcane tech company in Roshona where Caleb gets a job as his personal assistant.

Reccer says: A tense slow burn that's sexy as hell, one of my favourite fics.

Sleep, With Benefits by KmacKatie (62272, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Caleb tries out his coworkers' mattress. That's definitely all and not that he has a major crush on Essek.

Reccer says: I liked it!

take chances by 06151126 (3021, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Essek left Formula One and came back, but his return isn't going well. He hires Caleb to help.

Reccer says: This is the second work in a series, and the whole thing is wonderful! Well written and honest, it's very cool to see how Essek and Caleb come together over the course.

Empire of Lights by mllekurtz (TheKnittingJedi) (17215, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Rosohnans call it the rainy season: a time of humid days, heavy showers, and suffocating heat. Caleb, who feels less and less like a stranger in the city he recently decided to call home, finds it's also a time for revelations.

Reccer says: This is a fantastic, sweet AU of our wizards getting together and I love it.

A mile high by Mousecookie (545, Mature) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Caleb and Essek (try to) get frisky in an airplane lavatory.

Reccer says: It's cute and funny.

The Kitchen Sink by mousecookie (17126, Mature) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Essek is a supermodel and Caleb is a jack-of-all-trades, and they keep meeting in increasingly unlikely circumstances. WIP with 6/12 chapters.

Reccer says: It's funny and the writing style is almost Pratchett-esque at times

The following fics each received 2 recs each!

Something to Believe in by AwesomeFroggy (108948, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Essek's mother sends him to Nicodranas as punishment, where unbeknownst to her he already has a friend. Jester thinks he'd really get along with her friend Caleb.

Reccer 1 says: I liked it! Reccer 2 says: This is an amazing incredible story! I love it so very much! The story is complete, though it is marked as one chapter left as no epilogue is out. Don't let that stop you from reading! I love every single second of this story so very much.

I’ve been lost before (and I’m lost again, I guess) by toneofjoy (165k, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Rock climbing AU! Caleb is the new athlete to the gym and Essek takes over his training. Despite the specter of their pasts, feelings blossom.

Reccer 1 says: It's well written, most of the esoteric climbing stuff is explained well, and I really enjoy their characterizations. There's a good balance between the relationship-building and the climbing part. Reccer 2 says: This is top three Shadowgast stories ever. It's a wild, beautiful, heartfelt ride. It's worth every second of time it takes to read. Also, this will make you want to take up climbing or at least start watching climbing. It's so well written and enjoyable. Everyone should at least give it a try!

The Secret Romance of Caleb Widogast by Cardinal_Daughter (15680, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

All Caleb wants is a peaceful, romantic weekend alone with his boyfriend. The boyfriend none of his friends know about. Naturally, nothing goes quite as planned.

Reccer 1 says: a sweet and silly story where we get a glimpse of the absolute chaos of a M9 group chat Reccer 2 says: A fantastic AU with a brilliant sequel. I love it!

coping skills by eldritchmochi (251061, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

BDSM fic for a disabled Essek and the trials he experiences

Reccer 1 says: There is so much good about this WIP! The depiction of both Essek’s disabilities and the kink community are so well done, and the characterization is super fun. Well written and super hot. Reccer 2 says: This is one of the best long fits out there for a modern prompt. It is an absolutely wonderful story, heartfelt and meaningful, and the characters have so much depth. And I'm a sucker for a well written chronic illness/chronic pain Essek, and this one is so realistic it walks the line to uncanny. I love this!

Aeor is for Lovers is an 18+ Shadowgast Discord server. The above fanfic recommendations were pulled from our community for this weekly event. All fics, unless otherwise specified, will primarily feature Shadowgast. Have any questions about what this is? Check out the FAQ! Next week, we’ll be back with WIPS

[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!

[vodika-vibes]

first off just wanted to say congrats for 500 followers!!! that’s such a great achievement🎉

and second i saw that you’re tup girlie and figured i’d drop a request for the event with tup!! i was thinking something with diamond bc our boy deserves a love that is everlasting😌✨✨ and could you make it gender neutral please?

Just The Two Of Us

Summary: You love Tup. It’s easy. Simple. The easiest thing you’ve ever done. You just aren’t sure if he feels the same way.

Pairing: Clone Trooper Tup x GN!Reader

Word Count: 540

Prompt: Diamond - Everlasting Love

Warnings: None

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: Thank you! And I'm always happy to write for baby boy Tup! I don't get to very often because people don't request him very often.

“Alright, are you ready?” You ask as you take Tup’s hand and tug him down the street.

“I am, but where are we going, cyare?” Tup asks, his gaze alight with fondness as you pull him through the crowds.

“It’s a secret!”

He laughs softly, and takes several large steps so that he’s standing next to you, and he threads his fingers with yours, “But wouldn’t it be more fun if you told me where we were going?” Tup asks, as he leans in so his nose is almost bumping yours.

“...are you trying to seduce me into spilling my secret?”

“Is it working?”

“....yes.”

He laughs, his forehead lightly bumping against yours, “Great! So where are we going?”

“I…might have reserved a room at the botanical garden for our date tonight.”

Tup blinks at you, “Cyare, that can’t have been cheap-”

“You’re worth it.” You say quickly, “Now! Hurry up!” You tug continue to tug him though the streets, until you reach the garden. Where you then lead him to one of the small greenhouses.

A greenhouse full of blue and white flowers.

You intentionally chose this greenhouse.

And there, in the middle of the room, is a table for two, with lit candles and a cooler full of food next to it. There’s also soft music filling the room. “Ta-dah~” You say nervously, as you look at his face to try and determine what he thinks.

“You did all of this for me?”

“Yup.”

“The picnic-?”

“Your favorite curry, the cooler is specially designed to keep hot food hot.” You explain quickly.

“The music-”

“You really liked it when we went dancing that one time-”

“The candles?” Tup asks, a slow grin crossing his face as he leans into your personal space.

“Uh…scented candles. The spicy scented ones you really like.”

“Mm,” His arms wrap securely around your waist and for some, ridiculous, reason you’re feeling kind of flustered with how he’s looking at you, “The flowers-”

“I like blue and white,” You say sheepishly, “and they make me think of you.”

“You didn’t have to go all out for me, cyare.” Tup says, a wide grin on his handsome face as he leans in so that his lips are hovering just over yours.

“Well,” You say, somehow even more flustered, “I love you and you’re worth it-”

You’re not able to finish your statement as his lips claim yours in a deep, and passionate kiss.

“You love me, huh?” Tup murmurs against your lips.

“Was that ever in doubt?”

He chuckles, “No. You’re not terribly subtle.” He kisses you again and again, “I love you too. Just as much.”

“You do?”

“You doubt it?”

“No. Never,” You kiss him quickly, “But you’ve never said one way or the other-”

“I’m sorry for making you worry. I didn’t want to pressure you. And then I just thought that you could tell.” Tup murmurs, “Will you ever forgive me?”

You beam at him, “Already forgiven.”

He releases a sigh of relief, “Good. That’s good.” Tup leans in and kisses you again, his arms tight around you.

You have a good feeling about tonight, and about the rest of your life. After all, you have Tup, and he has you.

[riddle-me-ri]

Alice type reader and march hare type readers are all well and good but I'd love to see a general (or Gotham, Arkham, btas) Jervis x queen of hearts type reader!!

a/n: asdfg yes, yes, yes I’m so here for this! Will likely do a dormouse reader in another post in the future especially if there's a mighty need from others lol. I couldn’t really come up with an idea for a drabble, so I decided to just go with headcanons and to just go ahead do all the Mad Hatters hehe Hope you enjoy anon!

The Mad Hatters with a Queen of Hearts-Type Reader

Arkhamverse Mad Hatter:

- Jervis admires you. 

- He has to get respect and attention the hard way, it’s fun, but far more difficult than it has to be. 

- Not you though, you walk into a room and everyone shakes in their boots. 

- They know not to mess with you, to respect you (and Jervis doesn’t have to threaten them).

- Jervis especially appreciates how protective you are of him. 

- The only person that gets to see your softer sweet side is him. 

- And boy, does it make him feel incredibly special. 

- You're his queen of hearts and he's your mad hatter king (it's all nonsense anyway)

BTAS Mad Hatter:

- Jervis is slightly intimidated. 

- He prays for the poor souls that ever have to come face to face with your wrath.

- But he does manage to charm you and you allure him. 

- You will be a very powerful ally to have and vice versa. 

- Soon you two are unstoppable. 

- Jervis appreciates your loyalty and your tenacity. 

- He has never met anyone so fierce and determined.

- He is forever grateful to have you by his side. 

TNBA Mad Hatter:

- Much like his BTAS counterpart, he’s intimidated. 

- Unsure what to make of such a strong minded individual.

- He is mesmerized by you however.

- Jervis is used to being behind the scenes…quite comfortable with it until the end.

- But seeing you command a room and take charge…it's captivating to the scientist. 

- He's pleasantly surprised when he finds how fond you are of him.

- Jervis still gets nervous when you yell or scream.

- But he does take pride in knowing he is one of the few to calm you down.

Gotham Mad Hatter:

- Jervis is enamored with you. 

- Your fire, your rage, your destruction…

- It's something he's always felt but to see it in someone else…

- It's incredible, it makes his heart race. 

- You two will paint the town red. 

- Gotham will fall to its knees for you two.

- And no one would stand in your way.

- Yes, off with their heads, indeed!

Harley Quinn: TAS Mad Hatter:

- Jervis will pretend he's not impressed with you.

- But in reality he's actually shaking like a leaf. 

- However, you do amaze him with just how violent you are.

- Jervis enjoys watching you fight to protect him and your plans.

- It makes him chuckle with glee to see you take down multiple adversaries. 

- He has no problem helping you clean blood off your pretty face. 

- Jervis relishes in the fact you've only got a soft spot for him.

- You two are a force to be reckoned with.

Joker’s Asylum Mad Hatter:

- Jervis is mortified at first. 

- The Queen of Hearts is a blind fury. 

- He already experiences enough anger and aggression in his life. 

- Surely he wants no more of it. 

- He also admires your strength and tenacity.

- He’s perplexed when he sees you aim your fury towards those that wronged him.

- You protect him? Y-You care about him?

- Perhaps your fury isn’t all that blind after all.

Secret Six Mad Hatter: 

- I just have an inkling he gets a rise out of seeing you get angry. 

- Jervis loves to see how red your face can get, how loud you can scream…

- And yes, he’s still referring to when you're angry. 

- He enjoys it because he knows that he can quickly simmer your temper. 

- Or better yet, you’ll punish him later for making you get upset. 

- Either way leaves Jervis snickering to himself 

- You can be short and cruel, it's true. 

- But Jervis can see the passion and that will always captivate him back to you.

[allzelemonz]

The O’Driscoll Golden Boy: Colm O’Driscoll X Male Reader

Pronouns: he/him, Reader is referred to as ‘feller’ and ‘boy’ Physical Sex: AMAB Rating: E/Smut, murder, implied mutilation, references to castration Warnings: Power dynamics, power imbalance, oral sex, face fucking, deep throating, praise, abuse/unhealthy relationship, marking, possessive behavior, outdoor sex, semi-public sex, facial, humiliation, slight aftercare, hints of fluff if you really squint, homophobia, period-typical heavy homophobia Summary: Colm’s golden boy made a little mistake. The boss doesn’t like that.

Every job always goes smoothly. Every job. Not once have you ever messed up. Not like this. Riding with the O’Driscolls has always been fun so long as Colm is pleased, and Colm is always pleased with you. Pleased enough to drag you into his bed and show you what being the golden boy really means. But tonight… tonight you won’t even be making it back to camp, let alone your boss’s cabin and that big warm bed he’s had these past few weeks.

No, tonight you got caught.

Frankly you should consider yourself very lucky to be breathing.

Sheriff nearly broke your arm hog tying you though, probably shouldn’t be happy about that. He acts like he’s some god when he and his deputies get you in a cell. Something about a bounty having just been raised. Your head’s too fogged from getting hit and your arm hurts far too much to care anyway. Last poster you saw had upwards of a thousand, but that was about a big job further out West. Who knows which state you’re even in at this rate.

Then one of them says it. “Colm O’Driscoll’s golden boy!”

It’s a sneer, mocking and provoking, as they all turn to look at you. You’ve sat down on the floor of the cell, nowhere else to sit and your feet and legs are tired from running. You almost want to stand just so they’re not looking down on you, but in the end you find yourself much too tired to care.

“Should hang ‘em ourselves.” One of the deputies says. “Heard he’s done some sick shit.”

Of course you have. Colm asked you to after all. That’s your job. Whatever Colm wants.

Another deputy pulls a paper from the wall, tossing it on the table and letting it glide and spin. Your bounty poster, you assume. Terrible drawings really, they always are. It frankly surprises you anyone ever gets found.

“Wanted for murder, horse theft…”

You tune out the list of crimes, knowing all of them won’t even be listed on the little space. If they actually wrote everything out there wouldn’t be much room left to put your name and bounty, let alone a picture. It does leave out a lot of details though, important details in your opinion.

“He the one what did those robberies up along the forest, killed those families?”

Yes. You are. They had money, more than they needed. At first you asked nicely, then you didn’t. Business is business and it got you a nice reward from your boss.

“Couple damn orphans came outta that string.”

They’re fine. You even took them into town and gave them some bread and cheese. Boys wanted to shoot them too, you’re a saint in comparison.

“An’ he’s runnin’ with Colm O’Driscoll.” One of them glares at you. “Bet some a’ his charges could trickle down.”

Sure they could. You’ve helped Colm with plenty of things you’ve never seen yourself charged with. Not that you want to recall any of that or have it formally charged. You only kept your mouth shut about it all because you’re smart enough to be deadly loyal when it comes to Colm. You’d never say no to his orders or his requests. That would be stupid.

“I heard he got sodomy in the next state over too.”

Oh, that was a fun clash with the law. Colm fucking you in a back alley in some big city only for a lawman to find you, add charges for you but not Colm. Bullshit really, but it was such a good time that you recall it with fondness. You got rewarded for getting away when you got back to camp after all.

“Love ta see ‘em hang.”

If it would get them to shut up, you might opt for it. You’re starting to get a headache from all the hitting and incessant discussion of your crimes. Your guns aren’t that far away. If they just happened to drink a little more of that whiskey they pulled out to celebrate, got nice and distracted, you might be able to swipe them.

“It’s a three-thousand dollar bounty.” The sheriff snaps. “We’re takin’ ‘em ta the city.”

A trip to the city, a poorly guarded jail car, easy target. If not that, then easy lock picking. But you know the boys that got away will run back to camp with their tails between their legs, tell Colm all that happened, and seeing as Colm had said plenty of dirty things in your ear before you left, he will be a little upset that you didn’t come back like you always do. Cash in hand, happy to take the reward Colm is so desperate to give you. You used to think that’s all it was, the boss giving his best, his golden boy, a reward for doing well on a job. But Colm slips up in his facade sometimes, enough to see he doesn’t just want to fuck his golden boy.

There have been times where you’ve woken up, pretended to sleep, while Colm presses very uncharacteristically sweet kisses all over your face. There’s the occasional exchange before a shootout where he steps in front of you as if you need protecting. Little things a cruel outlaw might do when in love with his dear golden boy. Not that Colm would ever admit anything like that. No, he’ll hide it and let out his frustrations about not being able to act sweet by fucking you senseless under the guise of rewards.

And you have been well aware of this for years now. Not that you’d ever bring it up.

“Could at least let some widows an’ orphans rest a little easy…” One of the deputies says with a slur to his voice. “Hard ta shoot folk without no hands.”

A few of them laugh and you find yourself looking at your hands. You are quite attached to your hands, both in the literal and figurative sense. Though you can think of a few ways to pull a trigger without them, you’d still rather keep them.

“I’d rather castrate ‘em.”

That gets more laughter. It’s an idiotic joke in itself. Once again, you’re quite attached to your dick and would like to keep it and its friends. But, just like the shooting, there are other ways you can think of to get around the loss of an appendage. Colm hardly touches it half the time anyway. Still would rather keep it though.

“Who’s ta say he ain’t cause us some problems.” Another laughs. “Could give ‘em a good beatin’.”

At the rate they’ve gotten themselves drunk, you would like to see them try. One of the deputies stumbles past the others. They watch as he takes out the keys, snickering and giving light cheers as he glares down at you. The second that door opens it will become very easy to take his gun and shoot the drunken fools. Though it is tempting to only disarm a few, maybe pay them their own threats before finishing them off.

But then the large front door to the sheriff’s office opens and several men flood inside. All thankfully featuring green somewhere on their bodies. The drunk lawmen drop to the ground as the boys shoot out their legs. They cry and whimper until blows land on their heads and the boys tell them to shut up. The man by your cell sputters as he tries for his gun, the same one that recommended hanging you. A hole forms in his head and he falls, keys dropping to the floor. Of course it’s Colm that stands with his gun raised, an irritated look across his features.

One of the boys scrambles for the keys, unlocking the door as you stand. You walk out and stop yourself in front of Colm like the obedient dog you have become in his presence. Very slowly, he runs his hand over your chest until his fingers curl tightly into your shirt. He tugs you closer, glaring and angry in having to rescue his dear golden boy.

“Anythin’ ya wanna say, boy?”

You shake your head, knowing better than to say what needs to be said in front of the boys. Not that they don’t know, but that you’d rather hang than look as pathetic as you let yourself become in Colm’s hands.

“They treat ya nice?” He asks, his grip on your shirt loosening ever so slightly.

Your eyes trace over the men, finding the familiar faces that laughed about torture. “Sheriff’s fine, not those two.”

Colm follows your gaze. “Any recommendations?” He releases you, turning to look at the men cowing on the ground. “Boys deserve a little fun since we came all this way.”

And those men very much taste their own words. Colm doesn’t think you deserve to see such a fun little party, so he drags you outside by the collar. But the screams, they sound much better than the laughs.

“Ya wanna explain yerself, boy?” Colm seethes, throwing you roughly against the stone wall that makes up the side of the sheriff’s office.

It’s too dark to see his face. Too late for people to be out and about, even with the screaming. This town is small, surrounded by gangs, no one would be so stupid to leave their home right now.

You stumble a bit, settling yourself against the wall, knowing very well Colm wants you where he puts you. “Can’t explain it, boss. The detonator should have worked.”

His hand winds into your hair, pulling you towards him. The pain shoots through your scalp, a good half of it running down to your dick knowing Colm’s habits. In the dim light of a lantern you can now see his face with the proximity. Perhaps his habits won’t be holding up, he looks rather displeased.

“And why is that?” He asks and you can practically feel the mocking in his voice.

He knows. He must know you messed up. His golden boy made a mistake, something that’s never happened before. You’re not entirely sure how he’ll react to it. But maybe you can talk your way out.

“Seamus probably.” You say as smoothly as you can with the grimace on your face Colm’s rough tugging brings on. “He’s the one that wired things.”

Faster than you can blink, Colm shoves your head back into the wall. The impact with the stone does nothing for your headache, even makes you see stars a little. Your vision is double and shaky as Colm grips harshly onto your cheek to make you look at him, his other hand still gripping at your hair. For a few seconds you see two of his angry face, but as he speaks it settles into one.

“I ain’t a fool, boy.” He hisses. “Ya messed up, lost me a lotta money.”

You groan as his hand tightens in your hair, the stinging not bringing any more pleasure and solely burning through your scalp.

“Here I thought you was perfect.”

That almost stings more than your head. Colm’s praises always keep you going and disappointing him is not something you ever want to do again.

“‘m sorry, boss.” You rasp. “I-I…”

Colm presses his nails into your skin, deep enough to leave marks across your face. “Shut yer damn mouth, pretty boy.”

You nod slightly in his grip, only unable to keep yourself from whimpering at the fresh pain. You can feel something trickle, something wet. By the momentary smirk on Colm’s face, you guess he’s drawn blood, perhaps even done enough to leave scars. Scars embedded into your cheek, Colm’s nails forever digging into your skin.

“Get on yer knees now, boy.”

His grip releases, pain no longer focusing where his hands were and now spreading back to your head as you drop to your knees. You land rough, not wanting to make Colm any more upset, not wanting to disappoint him again. With somewhat hungry eyes, you watch as he unfastens his pants. He pushes his gunbelt up, situating things around as he pulls out his dick. Long and thin, achingly hard, everything you remember. But you’ve never been on your knees before, never had your face so close.

“Fuckin’s a reward, pretty boy.” He grunts, pressing his dick to your lips. “Ya haven’t been very good.”

You don’t dare move without his order. There have been times where he’s thrown you out of his bed for being too eager, made you sit on the floor while he dealt with himself. But that was when he was happy with you, when his dear golden boy hadn’t made any mistakes. You fear what he might do if you make even a single move of your own. So you sit on your knees, taking in the musky scent of the thing you’re supposed to put in your mouth. You wouldn’t particularly describe Colm as a clean man.

He drags his tip along your chin and up to your cheek. You’d give anything for a bit more light to see his face but you’d likely die on the spot if anyone saw you like this. For a moment it stings and you know it’s rubbing over one of Colm’s marks on your cheek, the one his thumb made by your eye. You make a note to clean yourself thoroughly after this. As much as you want to please Colm, to hear his praises, you don’t want some infection from his unwashed dick rubbing into a cut on your face. He seems to enjoy doing though, and for a moment you shutter at the thought of what he would be doing if you had something as large as a stab wound instead.

Then his hand returns to your hair, tugging roughly enough to snap you out of any thought and make your focus turn entirely on him. He tilts your head back and you provide no resistance. Every step of the way, he guides your head. Pressing softly to your lips and urging you down onto him, you open your mouth without question. As he slides through your mouth you taste every inch on him. He certainly hasn’t bathed in a while and you could guess that from his hair, but this really sells it. He tastes like sweat and dirt and dried pomade. And as he forces himself all the way in, hitting the back of your throat as tears form in your eyes, your nose is pressed against an even more foul bunch of pubic hair. It smells like the rest of him, but it’s not nearly as pleasurable as a normal musk might be with the unkempt hairs tickling your nose. For a few seconds he simply sits in your mouth, his dick fully enveloped. You struggle not to panic. You’ve always known he was long, loved it when it hits you so well deep inside where most men could never imagine fucking, but now that he’s shoved himself down your throat you’re not quite as keen.

You can hardly hear his words with how much your head pounds. “Be a good boy an’ sit still.”

Then he moves. You have air for all of a second before he rams himself back in and your throat closes slightly around his tip. It chokes you but it must be the feeling he’s chasing because he does it again and again. At this rate you feel much more like a simple dark, wet hole than a golden boy. But Colm keeps you eager with praises.

“Look at chu, pretty boy.” He mutters. “Such a good boy, always makin’ the boss feel good.”

Of course you do. Colm ordered you to after all. That’s your job. Whatever Colm wants.

“Shit, yer such a pretty thing.”

His hand still grips your hair as he forces your movements, fucking your mouth roughly. But his praises come with another hand, soft as he combs through your hair. Two sides of a coin, just like always, reward or punishment.

“Feel so damn good, boy.” He huffs, his hips starting to become erratic. “Always so good fer me, my golden boy.”

With that you can feel the tightness of your pants, but you don’t dare do a thing about it. Not without the boss’s permission, not without Colm’s smile and hungry eyes.

“Sit pretty fer me now.” He orders, pulling back.

His hands leave your hair, his dick slipping from your mouth. It takes a lot of control to stay upright, to not keel over and gasp for breath. Instead you stay as he left you, sputtering coughs and little gasps as your eyes fix on him. He works himself fast, his hand moving roughly against sensitive skin slicked by its time fucking into your throat. You close your eyes when he grunts, feeling warm streaks across your face a second later. As Colm hums to himself, you keep still. You feel the air around you shift as he kneels down in front of you. His lips press against yours, kiss slicked by his cum on your lips. He holds you still, his hand gripping that same spot in your hair with the same roughness as he kisses you deeply. Faintly, you feel something else against your skin. It rubs over your eyes and over your cheek. When Colm pulls back from his kissing you open your eyes.

He holds a rag in hand, running it over the cuts he made to keep them somewhat clean for the moment. His face holds a focus, but nothing else. No anger, no gentleness, simply focus as he wipes his cum off of some of your face. Not all, just what’s necessary, just your eyes and injuries. Then he tosses the rag to the ground, his other hand still tightly holding you in place by the hair. His eyes look over you, tracing along where you can feel the now cooling bits of him still on your skin. You take a sharp inhale as his free hand grips roughly onto your straining dick. His eyes bore into yours, anger now clear on his face.

“No more mistakes, pretty boy.” He warns. “I much prefer fuckin’ ya normal.”

You give him a small nod. “Yes, sir.”

He squeezes your dick. “My golden boy don’t make mistakes, do he?”

“No, sir.” You gasp out.

“An’ he’s gonna make that money back so I can fuck ‘em senseless, ain’t he?” His hand kneads down into your dick, giving it much needed friction.

“Fuck…” You groan. “Y-Yes, sir.”

He removes his hand, the other tugging tightly at your hair to make you focus on his face again. “Take them boys ‘n get me my money, pretty boy.”

You hold back a whimper from the lack of contact. “Yes, sir.”

He tugs again. “No cleanin’ up either, ya deserve what ya got.”

Then he releases you, standing as you fall on your hands and knees to the ground. You breathe heavily as he walks away, catching your breath and gaining your senses. You have blood drying along cuts from Colm’s nails, cum drying on your skin and likely your hair as well, no fit state to face a bunch of the boys. But of course you do. Colm told you to after all. That’s your job. Whatever Colm wants.

[star-trek-dumb-comics]

Ranking the star trek openings (of series I've seen) bc I have nothing else to do :

1- TNG season 1-2

Perfect 10/10. Love the Patrick Stewart narration. The music is just straight up happy juice every time I hear it. Makes me really eager and energetic and gets me in the mood every time. Only downside is that I think it shouldn't be used as a end credit music, because it create a pretty jarring mood whiplash with the endings of some episodes

2- TNG season 3-7

Pretty much the same, except I like the sorta "reverb" sound and chords of the first one better.

3- Lower decks

The theme song slaps sooo hard it was one of the few things that kept me watching in season 1 when back then I really didn't like the show. The visuals are pretty fun as well and look very good

4- TOS season 1-2

This may just be nostalgia speaking but the relaxed and content "home" feeling I get when I hear this theme is unparalleled. Also I like how short it is, which means I almost never skip it even when binging.

5- TOS season 3

It's really almost on the same level as the first one but I like the singing a bit less than the instrumental. But idk the blue letters do look a bit better

6- Voyager

Voy may be mid, but it does have a dope opening music. Really engaging and emotional. The visuals are fine but the ship just doesn't look as good as Enterprises sorry

7- Enterprise season 1-2

Okey HEAR ME OUT HEAR ME OUT. The visuals are really cool, and this opening would have made top three if they used Archer's theme instead of Faith of the heart like they planned at first. But hey. Ik the song is bad but like Enterprise itself, I have developed a weird fondness to it. I went trough the classic arc of hating it - liking it ironically - liking it unironically back when I first watched the show. Now I just sing along and almost never skip it.

8- TAS

this theme funky af

9- SNW

Still not decided on my feeling about this theme (like the show itself funnily enough). Feels nostalgia baity with the TOS remix but at the same time it is different enough from the TOS theme to be its own thing, and it sounds pretty good. Very cool visuals and love that they brought back the opening narration.

10- DS9 season 4-7

This may be my controversial opinion of the day but as much as I love DS9 I don't really like the opening. It feels dragged out as fuck and the visuals aren't very engaging (+ that meteorite looks ugly as shit sorry). Idk it's the one I skip the most often. This version feels at least a bit faster that the first one but the trumpets are slightly offbeat which is kinda infuriating.

11- DS9 season 1-3

Its sloooooooooow

12- Enterprise season 3-4

Really don't like how they remixed it. I don't even want to sing along, the added rhythm section is so distracting.

Edit : I wanted to add the first Disco theme since I've watched most of season 1 but I have no idea where to put it. I really like the music and the visuals but it just feels like it belongs to a completely different show than Star trek. Even the little TOS notes at the end feel out of place.

[t00nyah]

Meet 24 hour — they're ready to cheer you up, well…24 hours a day!

2019. Despite both not being really fond of publicity, it seems like the idea of making a band together made them work on their social awkwardness and, by publishing their fresh version of Calamari Inkantation, they got the attention of Inkopolis' cephalings. Soon after that Off the Hook finally were ready for their tour and their place was offered to 24 — which, while being quite unexpected, but was accepted by them.

Sango is a beginner DJ with a potential, but not with the most expressive face, trying hard to contribute in broadcast, although very often he can be seen gesticulating more than talking…

(even though Three is they/them non-binary in my headcanons, they went through some gender identity crisises before getting there. Timeline-wise in 2019 my Three uses he/she and identifies as man, and still has to figure out why it still feels not like it doesn't suit him. I will refer to Sango with he/she when I portray him in that time period, but with they/them when it's later, when they came out as non-binary!)

Hachi is a brighter, easily impressionable and smiling octoling songwriter. She seems to be very easy to offend because of her emotionality, but she forgives easily.

(now, i'm not good at music at all, but i've made a track for Inkopolis News ft. 24hour!~ i tried making more but it all turned out bad and my pc couldn't handle my spicy beats, uhhh...)

🎃SpookyFest!🎃

Hachi: It's time! Sango: 24 LIVE… Hachi: Yep-yep, that's us! I wonder what are current stages for… OH! Sango: ? (turned his head to Hachi, interested) Hachi: I think we might need to tell the exciting news first! Sango: You mean… Hachi: (nods) Ta-du-dum! It's Splatfest time! Sango: What's the topic this time? Hachi: We'll find out… In a minute!

[BAM!] Hachi: (puts her hands over her beak) Ah!! Wait, what day is it?! It can't be that soon… Splatoween, already?! Sango: Oooooh… (motioning fingers in a spooky manner) How would you like to spend your Splatoween…diving into the atmosphere by watching spooky films? Hachi: Or on a theme party? Hachi: Oooh… This one's tough… (taps finger on her cheek, thinking) Sango: It's pretty simple for me. Parties are not my thing. Sango: You can't turn off people around you when you're tired. Sango: But a TV always has this function. Hachi: Hm-hm~ But what about spending time with your friends in spooky or funny costumes? Hachi: You could make thematic decorations, food, games, anything! Hachi: I'm team Splatoween party. Sango: Have fun there, and I'm going to watch Nightmare before Squidmas. Hachi: Hey, I want to too..! (puffs her cheeks) Hmpff… Sango: I can wait for you if you want. Hachi: !.. Sango: (smirks) Well, what would you choose? Splatoween films or Splatoween party? Hachi: Don't forget to go to the Splatfest terminal and choose!!

~~~ Hachi: It looks like it's time to wrap up… Sango: Well, all day's the time… Hachi: …to let you shine!

(yep, i decided 'what do you mean no splatoween. here i have it right there.')

SpookyFest art! Hachi and Sango doing both activities in the end. It's not like anyone's gonna find out that they're both too scared of scary movies and social interactions to do things on their own, right?

Bonus: 24 concept art!

(you can actually use this as a reference as long as you understand that some things here aren't finalised and if something doesn't seem right(like sango's teal color is different from his actual design here) — you better reference the artwork above! it's mostly good for small details like their headphones or hachi's skirt for example)

(me trying to figure out their studio layout and dynamic at broadcast)

(small doodles where you can see hachi hiding her shoulders by tying her sweat..er?.. anyway i love this concept so much.)

(i tried to cut out splatoween sango and hachi in case anyone wants to use them as a pfp idk (just credit me please if you do!))

(also a small shellfie doodle i made yesterday bc i was really hyped to show all this!!!)

big thank you if you made it to the end!! i worked on this for half of this month and i'm really glad i finally get to show all this stuff :] i hope you like it 'cause i might plan to do something else...

[reniqt]

24 — HEARTACHES :★︎:

how.

whereas you, the victim, became the artist responsible of tracing your lover’s figure as you continuously flickered your persistent glare to the canvas, your boyfriend..

and back.

of course, only a sharp pierce of an eye was enough to send shivers down riki’s spine, hesitantly holding the bouquet of flowers upon his lap with a sigh. a pout. a apologetic look in his eyes that spoke ‘I’m sorry my dear girlfriend please forgive me.’

it turns out you both felt guilty for making each other worried, feeling nothing but sadness pour over your heads, ms. kim’s ridiculous solution having to be the umbrella to stop it.

although, you wouldn’t consider it ‘ridiculous,’ no,

rather hilarious; if you were honest.

hilarious that you and your boyfriend were now stuck painting portraits of each other, finding it quite odd how it was presumed to make one beam. smile. possibly hop with happiness after earning back forgiveness.

but why is it that now you were feeling the opposite?

why is it that now you wanted to punch riki’s face for his idiotic behavior? his foolish acts? his ability to smirk and act like absolutely nothing had happened?

“why do you look so mad?” riki asks you, innocence filling his voice as the two of you finally met eyes. he’s, once again, holding back the truth while in the process of playing stupid, tiny giggles falling from his lips.

you drag your brush off the canvas, a long sigh to escape as you hold back urges of beating his ass. “you wanna ask me that again?” you counter coldly, cocking a brow that resulted in his stiffened body.

an arrow shoots through your boyfriend’s chest, his figure growing hesitant upon the stool as he immediately shakes his head. it makes you secretly giggle at his stupidity, returning to your painting with a smile almost enough for him to catch.

“..just don’t move again, okay?” your voice softens, capturing the way riki’s face lightens as you lower your gaze. “I’m too tired to play with you right now.” you groan, a yawn trailing behind.

you didn’t think these type of solutions were supposed to make the atmosphere cold, ..or typically occur at two in the morning.

you even found it odd how riki wasn’t falling asleep on the job.

in fact,

he just seemed like himself.

idiotic..stupid….

…

yeah just those.

but riki, surprisingly, obeys with a nod of a head, holding his posture just perfectly with his side profile on display. you almost catch yourself to fond over the sight, averting eyes as you could’ve sworn the male caught you melt on the spot.

you also could’ve sworn a chuckle had left his lips just then, unnoticed of his teasing acts to return the moment you place your eyes upon his figure once more. only to find him smirking at you.

he’s pulling another one of his stupid poses again, just enough for you to angrily shout his name across the room.

“ki!” you scowl, his laughter to bloom as he made fun of your warm cheeks. “you think this is a joke??” you threaten, watching him laugh his ass off, completely disregarding your words as he continuously pulls the most unpleasant things.

next thing you know he’s doing all sorts of corny poses, just to see you fluster.

“why can’t you paint me like this, huh?” he dramatically runs his fingers through his hair, flashing a cocky grin in your direction. “or! or….” he then pulls a serious expression, throwing a leg over the other while tipping his hand under his chin. “what about this?”

but you continue to remain still, a disappearance of words. flushed cheeks. dropped jaws that lingered more than of riki’s surprise. he’s almost shocked he hadn’t made you lose your sanity yet.

“you’re right, too cheesy.” a sigh slips, a sharp inhale to tail. “—oh, wait.” he stops, now raising his arm to flex his bicep. you could already see the invisible sparkles. “now we’re talking.”

but it’s just enough to tick your anger off, almost coming unnoticed as he continues to cluelessly laugh like a child.

“or how about th…”

but with words left unfinished, riki doesn’t take notice of the way you storm into his presence.

the way you pull into his arms.

and the way the warmth of your fingers greet his wrists as you instinctively grab hold of his two hands,

“move one more time.”

..only to still.

and at that moment did riki search your alluring eyes with his, swearing his heart paced faster into your touch, your voice, and the lips that tore himself in half each time he glanced at it.

and maybe by now you’d release.

by now, you’d probably be running behind the easel and continue painting the cheeks that had you struggle, whilst he’d resume his task of looking pretty.

by now, you guys would probably be detached and have broken the painfully awkward eye contact that occurred out of nowhere.

but,

why couldn’t you let go?

“w-what are you…”

why couldn’t he break free,

“ki,”

when all that distracts was the beauty in your eyes.

“huh—yes??”

the eyes that are pierced into his red colored ears and his perfectly placed moles.

moles you’ve practically grown familiar with ever since middle school,

and the moles you have now brushed your thumb across.

“y/n?”

moles that eventually lead you to pull your lover’s face just inches closer to yours, your dancing fingers that cup his pink cheeks creating a familiar warmth between two.

a warmth you missed.

“I….”

and by then you’d wish you had let go,

“I’m about to do..”

but something tells you not too.

“..something really stupid right now.”

there,

stands two figures.

a kiss.

a kiss ever so soft that could only be captured against the rays of light that illuminate perfectly upon each other’s features. features that drag you two closer by second, affection within.

a kiss so charming, lips to connect as you feel yourself fall into his touch, the internal giggles creating nothing but smiles that are shared between pecks. and you ask yourself why you’re doing this.

it’s almost that now, you’d wonder if this was what your past self would’ve wanted for you both. that if you saw yourself creating memories with him, the tears he’s once caused would vanish, right?

as if you hadn’t cried over him at all.

that maybe if you stayed beside him throughout middle school, would you both still be in this position? placed under each other’s touch after spending years coping through the disappearance of his presence?

would he still care?

the curtains shifted through the half opened windows, the invitation of wind running through strands of hair as the moon revealed itself behind the trees. the trees that rustled as the rain poured itself through.

however, if you looked the opposite direction, the other windows that sit right across the room are left shut, but are also very revealing from behind. the behind that leads to the hallways, but also the entrance of the outside.

rows of glass line across the wooden walls, printed stains to cover. a barrier rests between two different areas, two different atmospheres.

but,

upon those windows….

leaves an untouched curtain.

a untouched curtain that’s given the smallest movement,

enough movement to reveal a sight one’s never wanted to see.

but also enough movement to shatter one’s heart.

because right behind those very windows,

stands a boy.

a boy that had once searched the fields, sorrowful eyes glaring through the window with overlapping breaths. heavy ones.

a boy that’s completely soaked, a sigh, an exhale, a breath of disappointment to escape as he eases into the view.

a boy that has now turned away, his trudging footsteps marking the hallway, an umbrella out of reach.

an umbrella that was unable to hover, but to only vanish upon his grip through the pouring weather. away from his grasp, far from his fingers.

an umbrella that was unable to capture the rain that drenches him full, droplets rolling down his cheeks.

an umbrella that was unable to bring the safety,

the light he had hoped to find.

“did you hear that?”

an umbrella…

“hear what?”

.

“nevermind.”

that broke jungwon apart.

◦ synopsis middle school years were difficult for you. After you finally moved away from your supposedly old bully, an unexpected surprise begans to follow

-

© reniqt — all rights reserved

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[bubblepopsims]

so I did it! I did the tags ^-^ and it’s still a ⚠️ WIP.

But I feel like I should disclose that I am a VERY BIGG RATED M (mature) page, I cuss, my ocs cuss, do drugs, drink and do all the nasty that they could possibly want to do. If that is not your cup of tea that’s fine but leave my corner of the universe be. I am not bothering you so don’t bother me 💜💜🖤

WCIF - eh.

the tribe

beginning - recent

Consists of the lives of my current ocs that I am very fond off. These are their stories. Each segment will revolve around two pairings of each of my Ocs, their lives, drama, love, and of course chaos. :3

Sims Persona fun

My sims persona self living her best green life, exploring and writing the lives of my OCs. She is the one behind the camera, following their lives.

My Builds

appreciation posts

Just a Little something when I miss certain ocs or I have an idea that is not fully for story purposes they go here.

⚠️(It will have a post of Tags with everyone soon enough.. just gotta find the right topper picture because I’m ridiculous) ⚠️

Groupchat

The absolute amazing and ridiculous shanangians I have created with the lovely Fl0pera. Of our ocs; the tribe:mine and the Casa Mayfields: fl0pera. If you don’t know of the lovely bean, you should check the bean out :3 we have loads of fun here.

Short(long) story posts

since i just randomly make up random days in my sims world. i will put them here XD

my version of the deadly sins (without sloth) ft. Cesar and L.

Meeting the love of your life ft. Xavier and Amie

WIP Bobbie's mini bachelorette challenge

TA TA !

[thefluxqueen]

HIIII :) here to ask about the abyss tell me about it please please please love this sort of thing :3

HAIIII welcome :) to preface this im normal i swear. anyway The Abyss is what i like ta call my Horrible Horrible Maze, i made it w/ the goal of making the worst possible experience in minecraft to torment my friends ^_^

I enjoy putting people in situations and studying them :D 

On that note! everyone who runs the abyss (24 people at current count) I time and write a couple notes on them! the abyss is honestly half maze half personality test LMAO. at current moment the quickest time goes to @ghostpajamas with a baffling 03:24 (wild that he got out so quick, i win tho cause i haunt his dreams), and longest goes to the beloved @rendogdomesticated with 1:35:54 <3 special shout out ta my dearest @theoctagon tho wolff ur insane i love u. guy goes inta the abyss for fun and has like 10 pages and counting of insane person phsyical notes tryna map it out (hes reported that hes gone through the first one 60 times and the 2nd one 5 jesus chriiiistttt). the abyss is fond of Pilot :) also if wolff is the favourite than @potionofinstantdamage is the Least favourite, rude ass set the place on fire when he got stuck in there :( oof ouchie

Highlights from my notes include @quack-city running backwards and upon me asking Why, simply replied “what if there’s slenderman :(‘ ... cant argue w/ that! he also hadda stop mid run so we decided its funnier if he’s just stuck in there forever. @newtbeetle was in there for like an hour and would NOT shut up about Paul Dano the whole time which was a time (love u beebs. ur isnane). my two test runners are @kishdoodles and @officialgleamstar and they had about the same time but like Opposite reactions it was very funny, kish treated it like they were a streamer n kept a like constant chatter, and travvy was like DEAD silent the whole time n Intensely focused akjewkjr tbh outta all 24 runners trav’s been prob the most like, methotical bout it? LIKE I SAID personality test. i Love studying people. 

In regards to its origins I came up w/ the idea back in like feb/march ish of this year and from start to finish it took me like 2 weeks ish i was on the Grind. u dont understnad how much black concrete this thing took. hell on earth,,, darkwoods has an economy/shopping district and i bought out like All the sand/gravel available akjwekjr the rest i hadda gather myself n God gravel sucks. also ive killed So Many Squids. the 2nd abyss was much easier ta gather supplies for cause i could ask for help w/ supplies n i kept the first one a Complete secret minus my test runners (i hadda bitch at SOMEONE while makin it or i wouldve died i think. speakin of the first abyss has a death count of 13 and the 2nd one has like, 5 or somefin? rlly shouldve writen that down akjwerjk those are Entirely me dying in the process of buildin them btw. its not a true Spain Build unless its mildly dangerous <3) The 2nd one also made me learn redstone, notably i specifically studied Tango’s decked out process vids from s7, tho i really only stole like two aspects of it n i couldnt even get one ta work properly LMAO

The second abyss took me like, wayy longer ta make, bout two months ish (i finished it like mid july). not necessarily in actual like, time spent building but cause in the process of makin it i had Two month long events i was in (Voiceteam in may and Art fight in july) so that distracted me a bit wkwnekeneie Im a bit more secretive bout the second abyss in general since not That many people have actually ran it compared ta the first n theres actually like, Things that can be spoiled in there <3 i like seein peep’s initial reactions its much more satisfying.

This didnt happen w/ everyone but i think a like, Core part of running the abyss is getting emotionally attached ta weird things. i wouldve said just torches until a few days ago when Tac (onea the rat server mods) ran it and claimed the stack of pumpkin pies i gave her as family. But Prior Ta That several people have had very intense emotions bout the redstone torches, whether love or hate or both, key example ft dog: 

Also not everyone ive mentioned on this post is in darkwoods! ive got a server i world editted the abyss inta so non-server members can run it for fun and profit (more data for me) :) on that note ive been slowly infecting the rat gang server cause my friend’s in there alot n another friend of mine’s a mod so peeps in there’ve been runnin it lately :) shout out ta TalonMC for lettin me subject him ta the Horrors literally our first conversation, onea my more fun first impressions i’d say

In regards to lore the abyss is a parasitic entity that infects anyone who gets stuck in there n slowly compells them ta go build their own lmao. note that ive only called the second abyss the Second one and not Abyss 2, because its technically just The Abyss as well cause theres many of them i just made it second wowjdkenejd (a real example of this is Wolff gettin obsessed w/ the abyss n then goin n buildin his own build called the Tower :) very excited bout that) The Abyss has a weird like fucked up warlock bond w/ my goddess oc The Overseer :D Her design’s vaugely based off my irl friend @hotcollectionoftubs cause her creation The Hole on a creative world her n some other friends of mine are on was onea the main insperations for certain aspects of the abyss’ lore :D mainly the teal in the colour palette and the whole ‘the [hole/abyss] provides’ thing. 

(my reference images for her and 3rd pic's art i commissioned from the Lovely @opuntie):

my darkwoods chara, Snake, is a whole nother bag entirely (basic gist is they’re a dimension traveler not by choice and darkwoods is the 3rd world theyve been in, their deal’s worth a whole post of its own lmao) i built the first abyss entirely unrelated ta my chara just as like, fun weird build ta torment my friends w/o yaknow? but then as i was buildin the 2nd one i was like hmmmmmm. alotta things could make sense if i made this one built by Snake. so their retirement arc on darkwoods turned inta even MORE trauma! wahoo! poor guy deserves a break,,, (he will not be getting one). 

(pre abyss + post abyss. i gotta properly draw pre-darkwoods Snake at some point but this dudes changed Alot ill say that lmao. both crops from bigger pieces on my art blog @fluxydrawings)

Anyway thats basically it! ive got more details and things locked in my brain ill probably remember in like 2 days after postin this so theres a chance ill reblog this w/ extra shit later lmao, sides that tho the abyss is my babygirl n thank yall for showin interest ^_^

Memes n shit to end us off:

[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.

——————

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[sammysdewysensitiveeyes]

13, 24, 27 for Pyro

and

3 for a Dark Shadows character of your choice!

13. Dumbest thing they've ever done.

Oh boy, where do I start here? So many contenders.

I'd probably have to say that time that Freedom Force attacked the X-Men (without Mystique's permission and behind her back), and Pyro tried directly challenging Storm. This was during the time that Storm had lost her powers, but Pyro's flame reacted with the fog in the air to cause rain, so Pyro basically took himself out.

Runner up - that time in TAS that Pyro did not recognize Rogue despite her having formerly been in the Brotherhood, and tried to flirt with her by torching a chair and making a bad pun. I want to emphasize, he literally just torched a chair and didn't actually manipulate the flame at all, which means he was trying to impress Rogue as "guy with a flamethrower."

Toss him through the wall, Rogue.

Also that same episode he shot fire at Cable, a huge hulking guy strapped with guns, for no good reason, and got himself knocked out and nearly drowned. "Don't call me darling."

Second runner-up - That impulsive drunken skull-face tattoo. I am 100% certain Pyro had some next-day regrets about that, even though he would never admit it.

24. Most annoying habit

He's definitely a show-off and braggart, and can often be quite petty and mean. Probably a conversation one-upper, and a million "When I was in Vietnam/the Brotherhood/jail" stories of dubious credibility. Although I also think those are fun aspects of his character.

Probably smoking. Pyro is a smoker and I doubt he's very considerate about second-hand smoke. Also, if you lend him your lighter you will never see it again.

27. Their guilty pleasure

Soap operas. Pyro loves watching soaps for all the plot twists and drama, many of which he rips-off uses for inspiration in his novels. Although I think Pyro would be defiantly unashamed of watching soaps. "I'm a romance writer, what the fuck do you expect?"

Pyro's real guilty pleasure - light-hearted romantic comedies and occasional sappy Hallmark movies. Sometimes St. John just needs a pick-me up in the form of a feel-good movie about a career woman moving back to her small town and discovering both love and the true meaning of Christmas. If you walk in on Pyro watching one of these movies he will switch it off faster than actual porn.

3. Obscure headcanon (for a Dark Shadows character)

Bless you for asking me about Dark Shadows. I like to imagine a lot of moments of Willie (Barnabas's servant/vampire thrall) introducing Barnabas to 20th century culture, especially post-Wyndcliff when Barnabas was being a little nicer to Willie. Like Willie getting Barnabas to try pizza and hamburgers during his "cured" non-vampire times when he could actually eat real food. "C'mon, Barnabas, you gotta try it at least once, it's really good, and people will expect you to have eaten pizza before, it'll help you fit in."

Barnabas eats pizza and hamburgers with a knife and fork, no one can convince him to do otherwise.

Barnabas trying to relate to Vicky: "Willie prepared some.....spa-ghe-tti for me the other night, such an interesting, flavorful dish, although a bit inconvenient to eat."

Willie had no idea what to do when Barnabas asked him for some salt-pork, he just ran out and got Barnabas a hot dog. Barnabas became surprisingly fond of baked beans with cut-up hot dogs, and would offer it to guests.

Willie was similarly troubled when Barnabas wanted roast pigeon. "We, uh....we don't really eat that anymore, Barnabas. Maybe some fried chicken instead?" Thankfully, Barnabas loved the Colonel's 11 herbs and spices.

(I feel like this works even better for the 91 Revival Willie and Barnabas, who don't have as contentious a relationship. Like 91 Willie would be eager to take Barnabas to the movies or play the Beatles for him or introduce him to Chinese food.)

[sublimecatgalaxy]

Hi, I hope it's okay that I do another request, could you please write something about the reader having a bad day somewhere new. Like it was her first day and it didn't go as she had hoped. (I had a bad day in a new environment and it didn't go as I had hoped so... yeah?) Anyway, could you please do something fluffy with Jonathan Byers comforting the reader after they come home from wherever and it's all comforting and fluffy. Please and thank you? I hope you're doing okay and your operation went okay and post-op isn't too bad

Finally fulfilling this request because I think it would genuinely help my soul to write and I hope this helps someone else too.

My body is just about to give out by the time my back hits the mattress, my pounding head making my eyes water as I listen to my fan spin on a constant loop.

College was supposed to be fun, a new experience where I learn how to find myself and really dig deep into who I am. But the day started off with me a minute late to my first intro to literature class and the professor slammed the door in my face and made the deliberate effort to lock the door, telling me silently that I wouldn't be welcome in class.

After that, a TA spilled coffee on me as she turned the corner, the scalding drink making a mess of the new sweater I bought just for today. I cried while buying some school merch from the school store, not having enough time between classes to go home and change.

The rest of the events of my day were small enough for me not to remember, other than missing my bus and being forced to walk home a mile and a half in the rain.

I was so excited to move out of Hawkins and to the amazing city of Los Angeles, to attend the school of my dreams and start over. I wanted to get a breath after the years of trauma that Hawkins inflicted upon me and my dearest friends.

And my boyfriend.

My phone ringing beside me snaps me out of my grumpy haze, my eyes tiredly opening to look over at my lit up phone, a smile taking over my expression at the sight of Jonathan's name across the screen. I'm quick to snatch it off of my pillow and answer it without hesitation.

"Hi honey." He hums and my eyes flutter to picture him laying in a similar way that I am, back against his headboard, a fond, excited smile sprawled out across his lips at the sound of my quiet breathing through the phone line.

It's been difficult to get used to the long distance but with Jonathan and I both being very independent people, we've only flourished and our relationship has only gotten stronger. But I'd be lying if I said that, after a day like this, I didn't miss his arms around me.

"Hey, babe. How are you?" I ask, kicking my feet up on the bed and kicking my uncomfortable shoes off at the same time, letting out a breath of relief.

"Good, good. Hopper just left, came over to help Will with some essay." Jonathan chuckles, a small chuckle leaving him as a smirk spreads across my lips.

"Oh, he came just for Will? Not for your mom." I snort, pulling a groaned laugh from my boyfriend as the line breaks up for a moment as he moves.

"Shut up. How was your day?" He asks and suddenly my laughter and happiness is sucked from me at the slight recollection of everything that's happened to me today and shame fills me at the thought of having to tell him how poorly it went. "It was your first day of classes right?" He quizzes with a small sniffle.

"Yeah..." I trail off with a small sigh, shaking my head as my eyes flutter shut. "Would it be already just to say that it was the worst day ever but that I really don't wanna talk about it?" I whisper, my voice trembling a bit and my stomach swirling anxiously.

"Yeah, uh, are you sure you're okay?" He asks, his own anxiety lacing his voice at the thought of me feeling such weighted emotions without him being here to pluck them away, one by one.

"I'm okay now that we're talking. Just tell me something to cheer me up." I laugh, reaching up to bat away any stray tears that have escaped me without permission, my eyes burning.

"Hmm." He hums, clicking his tongue. "I could tell you how much I love you?" He offers and I giggle, rolling over onto my stomach at his cheesiness. "I could tell you how much I missed you today and since you've been gone-"

"Yeah I like this plan." I cheer, a huge grin taking over my flushed, tear stained cheeks.

"Oh yeah?" He laughs, the image of his eyes burning into my mind. "Alright, then stop interrupting and let me make you feel better."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o- Taglist: @bubblebuttwade @rafelover2405 @leslienjazzy @sorceresss @grxnde-dwt @alex–awesome–22 @bunnietoof @niyamar1e @serialghost @plantlungs @geniusohn @akaliltimmytim @lilaalouuxx @xshariex @elliotsbeigeguitar @elle4404 @lelieja @srhxpci @joselyn001 @taysirene @spinkspanther @thedivineuphoria @peter-maximoffs @tsukishimawhore @poohkie90 @szlaco @distantsighs @nstyles4299 @wolflover384 @givemefoodandlovesstuff @vane2828 @yeswhatever33 @amirrahfranson @vvaalleennttiinna @f-mu @yaspillz @jeyramarie @skylievin@abbybarnes17 @jointherebellion215 @visiondaddy @steezysimfinds @its-ya-gay-boi-luigi

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[here-lies-golden-kamuy]

Your stuff got me thinking: how would boutaro fare if he actually got the huge family that he wanted? Because wanting a ton of kids and having a ton of kids are two very different things. I personally think he’d do fine

Hey anon, thanks for your ask! I love the fact that my Boutarou HCs are centered on him being a person outside of the gold hunt and I’m living for it! Honestly this ask made me think of more content than I had originally planned, so thanks anon 🥺💖 I personally love it when people give me the space to churn my brain for Golden Kamuy, so please expect more content (in line with February I guess hehe….) 

Like before, since Boutarou hasn’t come out (👀 /j) in the anime as per this ask, I’ll be putting my thoughts under the cut! (I had too much fun with this ask and there’s a lot under the cut, I’m so sorry). I hope you enjoy, anon! <3 

Boutarou the Pirate as a Parent Headcanons

Generally, I think he’d be a good dad! I totally resonate with your idea: it is different to want something than already having it in the palm of your hands. But for Boutarou, I think he’d be a relatively good father because of how long he’s yearned for it and how long he’s planned for it. Again, this is something he’s yearned since his entire family died. He’s had lots of time to really…think about it. He’s passionate about the things he desires, but he’s also…a man that’s grounded with reality. What I mean is, part of his big life goal (maybe even his life purpose at this point) is to have a family: I absolutely see him being logical about things and plan this specific dream out. If he’s willing to do a lot of things for it (aka do crime to achieve this goal), then I’m sure that he’s utterly committed to the idea of having the best family in the entire fucking world. 

Based on his personality, he seems to be a devoted type of man to his dreams; if his dream includes a family, then that means he’s devoted to growing and nurturing that. When Sugimoto and company interacts with him, one can see his passion for life and his dreams, but it’s also veiled behind a calmer visage. I feel like he’d lose the calm exterior and be full on passionate with his trusted partner and his family. He’s absolutely the type to get emotional and even shed a few tears when his partner says that their pregnant/are ready to adopt a new child. 

I feel like he’s a sentimental type underneath that cool exterior. The type of person who would name his children by meaningful names. He’d absolutely name the kids after his lost family (with consent to his partner, of course); it’s his way of connecting his past, present, and future. If his children start to exceed the number of his lost family members, he’d probably ask his partner for name suggestions. He’d be fond of naming them after things that remind him of his partner, his partner’s own family, and himself. 

Very protective, attentive, and responsible of his children! I can see him to be a parent that promotes free thinking and exploration. He’d allow his children to explore and find their way in the world (especially on their island paradise) but with adult supervision. I also see him trying to connect with each child — all of his children are precious to him, of course he’d dedicate time out of his busy schedule as ruler for his family. I feel like his kids would playfully fight for their time with their dad! 

Jumping from the previous point, I think that Boutarou’s the type to still want parental responsibility, on top of being the ruler of their island kingdom. Hence, I can see him making certain daily tasks to be important for family bonding: dinnertime and bedtime for the kids. Boutarou would be home by dinnertime, everyday, no questions asked. He’s happy when he sees his family greet him home and welcome him back: he’s content with washing up for dinner and watching his partner and their brood prepare the meal. Until his kids reach teenage years, he will absolutely tell them stories as a bedtime ritual. They’ll be in one family room where he tells tales of his past (though he changes the name of the “hero”), including the gold hunt. Once story time is over, he’ll kiss each of his children’s foreheads and greet them goodnight as they return to their respective rooms. Boutarou will then shower his beloved partner with love and attention (can’t forget about the wife /gender neutral). 

The kids absolutely love him, and they absolutely hate it when he’s mad at them. Boutarou doesn’t seem to be the type to have a short fuse — he strikes me as someone with a lot of patience. It would take a lot for him to get angry. But his anger doesn’t manifest in shouting or hurtful words, his anger is quiet but somber. Imagine knowing that someone’s angry at you, but they’re not showing it; you just feel the vibe is different, and it makes you absolutely shit yourselves. Yeah, that’s Boutarou. I feel like it really comes out when one of his kids was in danger of seriously harming themselves. He’s still calm and collected when he expresses his anger, but knowing you’ve angered (and disappointed) him makes his family (yes, including his partner) immediately guilty. 

One of the things that makes him angriest is lying. He doesn’t tolerate it with anyone of his subjects, his partner, no less from his kids. He also hates it when his children point fingers at each other when it comes to blaming for an accident or mistake (they learn early on not to do it). I think Boutarou’s scary aura when he’s mad goes full-blown when it comes to lying and pointing the blame. Aside from that, he’s a good parent and he tries modeling good and morally upright behavior to his children — his days of being a convict and a “bad man” are long over. Each day spent with his family and island washes away the years of loneliness and bloodshed. Yes, he’s absolutely committed to protecting his dream with his life.