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astarionbraiinrot · 24 days

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One for the Road

Having acquired himself a brood of many daughters, and with enough years passed since the last was born that he's certain they're done having any more, Astarion is content to be a very happy certified Girl Dad™ to his flock of lovely little feral princesses. Which he's over the moon about, because honestly, what would he even do with a boy? No, he’s quite satisfied with the pack of little gremlins he has, thanks very much, all braids and pink ribbons and lace trim, and he’s not interested in adding to it. He and Tav are living their best No More Babies life. They're consistently sleeping through the night without interruption, they can have a glass (or four) of wine whenever they want, and he can’t remember the last time he’s had to wipe an ass that wasn’t his own. No, their house is FULL and they are DONE. No new Ancunins, shop's closed.

She’s bright red herself, wailing with all the power her little lungs can muster. He still can’t see much of her from where he sits, not with Tav sagged back against him, finally able to rest. The Midwife says something he doesn’t catch as she gently wipes the babe off. He’s too busy whispering to Tav about how well she did to pay much attention to anything else right at this moment, but Tav isn’t, and she starts to giggle, quietly, just this side of audible. Odd, he thinks, but adrenaline’s a hell of a drug, so he doesn’t think about it too hard. His towel-wrapped (and still a little fluid-covered) daughter is gently placed on Tav’s chest as the Midwife busies herself with cutting the umbilical cord and delivering the afterbirth. The baby calms a bit as Tav gently coos to her and strokes her back, her cries tapering off into soft whimpers.

So of course, barely three days after finally clearing out and donating all of their various and sundry baby stuff, Tav informs him that there's going to be a last-minute addition to the family, very soon (school had just started back again, and the girls had spent the entire summer banding together to hide increasingly-inappropriate new "pets" in their rooms no matter how many times they got caught, so he supposes Tav can be forgiven for having mistaken the symptoms of yet another impending-dhampir as typical parenting exhaustion. He certainly had). It's the middle of the night when she tells him, and he spends at least an hour pacing the floor of their bedroom and summoning every scrap of memory from his law school days to argue that she must be mistaken, because their eldest just started COLLEGE and their youngest is TEN and they've already given away the crib and you can't have a baby if you don't have a crib because where would it even sleep? So obviously they can't be having another baby. Checkmate. He rests his case, Your Honor.

When his arguments to the contrary do not, in fact, render the impending child any less impending, and he’s had another hour to stomp around the backyard lecturing himself (quietly, so as not to wake the girls or the neighbors) that this is what happens when you drink two bottles of wine and an entire cow and can’t keep your stupid hands to yourself and convince Tav to throw caution to the wind because “it’ll be fine just this once, what’s the worst that could happen,” you idiot, he comes around to the idea. Because, sure, maybe they're starting all over with the diapers and the teething and the sleepless nights, but their other children are old enough to mostly mind themselves now, and the youngest had started asking for a baby sister as soon as she was old enough to figure out that her parents were where siblings came from.

Plus, if he's honest with himself, he may have - just a very teeny tiny bit - missed the feeling of holding a tiny infant curled up on his chest, burying his nose into their fluffy newborn hair to inhale the scent of their little scalp, listening to those soft snuffly noises they make as they fall asleep, his finger held in a ridiculously tiny hand only just barely big enough to wrap around it. Not enough to have another one on purpose, obviously, but if she's coming along anyway, then he supposes he might as well enjoy it all the same.

So he starts the same preparations for her that he did with all her sisters, sewing tiny frilly things as Tav knits yet another blanket and they bounce potential names off each other. Of course it's a girl, he says, when questioned on his name suggestions. With how many children they already have, there would have been a boy by now if there was going to be one. He scoffs each time Tav jokes over the next few tendays that this one feels different, and they could have a little combo-breaker on the horizon. No, not possible, he assures her, with an unearned confidence that he nonetheless felt was quite deserved. Their Standard Operation Protocol is that, once a baby is on the way, a little girl is born soon after. No deviations, and no reason to expect any now after all this time. Repeated experiments have produced the same result every time. They'll have another member for their infamous flock of Ancunin Daughters before the month is out.

When Tav tells him one evening just before their soon-to-be-second-youngest's bedtime that the little one's announced her debut via a puddle on the kitchen floor, there is no panic, no rush, no mad dash to ready everything. They've been through this far too many times for that. He takes a moment to be grateful that at least this one had waited until the sun was down to kick things off. Most of her sisters had not been nearly so courteous, choosing instead to have their first act be one of defiance against their poor stressed out father by beginning their journey into life in the middle of the day.

He bundles the girls off to the neighbors' house for the night, leaving them with a quick kiss on the head each and a promise that he'll send a Message as soon as their new sister has arrived, before making his way to fetch the Midwife. He vaguely wonders if she's even necessary, considering they have enough offspring that he's got the whole process all but memorized and is fairly certain he and Tav could deliver the child themselves at this point (and had done, once. Baby number five had been VERY eager to make her way into the world, with such a swift entry that she'd nearly been born on the living room floor. He'd had no time to even grab a towel and was forced to catch her with his bare hands. She'd ruined his shirt, and the rug, and nearly scared the unlife out of him on top of it. He'd been very calm throughout the entire event, though, a paragon of unflappable stability, patiently waiting until the babe was born, cleaned, and moved upstairs to the bedroom where she snuggled peacefully in her sleeping mother's arms, before politely stepping out the bedroom door and proceeding to have the quietest panic of his entire existence).

When he arrives back home with the Midwife, he doesn’t bother to direct her to the bedroom. She knows where it is, this isn’t her first rodeo with an Ancunin birth either. Water is boiled, clean towels are at hand, their nice bedding has been replaced with plain serviceable sheets, a layer of newspaper underneath to protect the mattress, a tiny outfit and knitted blanket sit ready nearby. Check, check, check. He completes each step with pure muscle memory and no prompting, all routine, everything exactly as expected.

The next nine hours are spent keeping Tav as comfortable as possible. Rubbing her back, walking circles around the house, stopping at each contraction to gently sway and do the breathing exercises that they'd learned so long ago the first time they did this. Normally, she'd catch what sleep she could in between contractions in these early stages, but this one is determined to allow her mother no rest. He really hopes that's not an indication of what the little one’s sleep schedule will look like once she's here.

They near the end of this whole ordeal with the first light of morning. He's sat behind Tav, holding her up, as she grits her teeth through near back-to-back contractions and shakes with the effort of bringing this last child into the world. She's exhausted, grumpily hissing between pushes that of course his child would be fucking nocturnal and think the asscrack of dawn was a splendid time to be born. He considers reminding her that most of their children had been born during the day, so he really didn’t think the timing of this one could be blamed on him, but any response he might have had is cut off with the next push, when he feels his knuckle bones grind together as she once again resumes her efforts to reduce them to powder. It's probably for the best that he keep that comment to himself right now, anyway, he thinks.

One more big push to get the head out. It's barely visible from his position, head leaning over Tav's shoulder, but he can see that she definitely has the same full head of hair all her sisters did, and maybe his hair color as well, though it's hard to really tell through the blood and fluids plastering it all to her scalp. Could be red for all he knows. He mutters something about not being able to see her hair through the blood, and Tav gives him a sly sideways glance and starts to crack a joke, something about him not having eaten since yesterday, he thinks, before she’s interrupted by a loud, pained, groan and the need to push again.

A few more hard, steady pushes, guided by the Midwife, for the shoulders this time. This is always the hardest part, he remembers, the final hurdle. He whispers gentle encouragement into Tav's ear as, timed with her pushes, the Midwife carefully guides first one shoulder, then the other, out into the world. Poor Tav is bright red from the exertion, covered in sweat and panting. He places a cool hand on her forehead and she leans into his palm as, with a scream and one last push, the babe is finally brought into the world.

Oh.

Able to get a closer look at her now, he can see this one bears more than just a passing resemblance to her father. Frankly, she looks exactly like him, albeit smaller, wrinklier, and with fewer teeth (for now). Pale, even for a newborn, with tiny, finely-pointed ears, and a head of unruly white curls. When she finally opens her eyes, leveling her parents with an annoyed glare that could have come right off his own face (or so he’s been told), he sees his own gaze reflected back at him in pale green, the color they’d learned with the birth of their second daughter that his eyes used to be. He feels a little bad, honestly. Tav did all the hard work, and yet here their daughter is, their last baby, him in miniature. Not bad enough to keep him from preening a bit when he mentions how beautiful she is, though.

Tav is still giggling. Quietly, but noticeably louder now than before his comment.

He raises an eyebrow at her and asks just what is so funny, and her giggling increases to laughter.

You, she says, in between fits of giggles. She asks if he had been paying attention to anything the Midwife had said, and the confused look on his face only serves to make her laugh harder. He waits while she tries to contain herself, releasing a very put upon sigh when, a few minutes later, she’s still laughing at whatever this joke at his expense is.

Finally, she takes a deep breath, holding in her laughter, eyes still sparkling with mirth, and slowly unwraps their daughter. He is, once again, confused, and the baby’s none too happy either, starting to fuss with the sudden loss of warmth. Before he can say anything, Tav shifts and places the now bared and still slightly-slimy infant in his arms, advising him to get acquainted with their newest little one. He wrinkles his nose at the goo rubbing off onto his sleeves, some sarcastic remark ready on his tongue, reaching out with one hand to take the towel from Tav as he looks down to begin settling his daughter, and-

Well.

That explains why Tav was laughing at him, at least.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he thinks that he probably should have caught that a lot sooner. It’s almost embarrassing really, considering his various skillsets, he’s usually pretty good at noticing little details. He doesn’t really have the brainpower to ponder that too long though, because the rest of his mind is still trying to reconcile this shift in information.

The best he’s able to come up with is dazedly asking Tav how that had happened, which just induces her into another fit of tired giggles as she presses a gentle kiss to his lips, and another to the top of their son’s fuzzy head.

He smiles and thinks that the girls will be delighted at this change of protocol.

#astarion x tav #astarion/tav #dadstarion #astarion ancunin #astarion #bg3 astarion #astarion bg3 #baldurs gate astarion #baldurs gate 3 astarion #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #One for the Road #This is literally my first time ever posting fic pls be gentle lol #and if you see any mistakes no you didn't #this started out as a reply to a request for dadstarion headcanons and now it's over 2k words help #started out with a kiss how did it end up like this etc #Also considered calling it either Going Out of Business or Fire Sale re: the ''shop's closed'' line #2k+

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wolfjackle-creates · 1 year

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I'll Carry Your Heart with Me (Until I Find You Again): Part 3

And this is the third and final part of my hundred follower celebratory writing. The fic will continue past this, but it will be a while before I can return to it. I want to get back to Ghost!Robin and Bring Me Home first. This was a blast to write, though.

The angst starts here. Parts 1 and 2 were fun and fluffy. But things take a turn here. And it'll be quite a while before our boys can get back to happier times.

Mostly Jason POV with a short section from Danny's.

3.8k words. There wasn't a great place to break it up.

First, Previous

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Jason sighed as Danny flew out of his range of awareness, leaving him alone in his lair again. Though… he touched his lips which still tingled with cold and smiled to himself. At least this time he was left with some pleasant memories.

Turning his back to the swirling void, he entered the brick building that housed the most important parts of his home from before. Ignoring the kitchen, he walked through a door and into his bedroom. It was the only place he had yet to show Danny.

Though maybe he should change that?

He flopped down on his bed and touched his lips again before rolling over and burying his face in his pillow. God, he felt like a teenage girl. Was this why Dick liked to meet up with girls? Jason had kissed girls a few times before, but with Danny… It just felt so much better.

Maybe it was because his mouth was cool? Kissing him felt like a drink of fresh spring water on a hot day. Or perhaps it was the way they could project their feelings while kissing. And not needing to breathe was definitely nice.

He sighed and moved until he was staring up at the ceiling. How in all the realms was Danny interested in him? A dumb kid who got in over his head and died because of it.

Danny was still alive, too. With a sigh, he pushed himself up. He didn’t want his thoughts to go this way—he wanted to bask in their first kisses some more.

Would Danny get too old for him?

Alfred would have been able to set him right. Let him know if this was doomed from the start or if he might actually have something. And Dick… Well, first he’d tease. But after. They’d go to the gym and when he was tired out and sweaty, they’d go and get milkshakes or something and Dick would give surprisingly helpful advice. The type he couldn’t quite bring himself to ask Alfred or Bruce.

Bruce would be insufferable, of course. He’d insist on researching everything he could about Danny. Would probably stalk him, too. But after he was convinced Danny wasn’t trying to take advantage, he’d tell Jason to invite him for dinner. He thought they’d probably get along, too. While their personalities were quite different, their morals were a perfect match.

But no. He’d never get any of that. Because he had to be an idiot and die.

Though… did death have to be permanent? Danny had come back after all. And hadn’t several members of the Justice League died at one point before returning to life?

Could he do that?

Restless now, he got out of bed and made his way to the gym. These were the types of thoughts that only made sense when he was doing something physical. One routine in particular was his “thinking routine.” His dad would always call Alfred in if he saw Jason doing this one. How would he be able to come back?

Most of the stories he heard required something happen to the body on Earth. But he didn’t have that option. He was limited to the Infinite Realms. But… these lands were infinite. There had to be someone or something here that could help him. Maybe there’d be some information in Ghost Writer’s lair? What other ghosts had Danny told him about?

And then he remembered: Desiree. He froze, leg in the air as he was halfway through a kick. If he’d still been human, he would’ve fallen on his face.

Desiree had been able to rewrite reality so that Danny and Sam had never met. In doing so, she’d erased his death from ever happening. If she could do that, bringing Jason back from the dead would have to be a piece of cake. So long as he phrased his wish correctly.

Now that he had a new mission, he fell out of his fighting stance and made his way to the library. He had a wish with a genie to craft.

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With how time never seemed to work right in the Realms, Jason wasn’t sure how long it took him to craft his wish. But he finally had it. And this one shouldn’t backfire on him.

I wish I was alive again with a healthy body and intact mind.

Though he did continue trying to think it through. Would it be possible to twist this one? If it was, Desiree would find away. At least if Danny’s stories could be believed. And Ember and Kitty insisted that Danny downplayed his stories more than anything.

Which was hard to believe, even as a former Robin.

Now he had to find Desiree. And as much as he wracked his brain, he didn’t think Danny had given him any sort of clue as to where her lair might be located. And he didn’t want to just ask someone straight out. They’d try and dissuade him from going. Even worse since the only ghosts he really knew were ones Danny introduced him to. Apparently it was normal for a ghost to not leave their lair much for the first few years after death, so he hadn’t yet done much exploring of the Realms.

Though Danny had once tried to sketch him a vague map. Apparently things in the Realms had a tendency to move around a lot, but clusters did form among people of similar background. Medieval European ghosts clustered together in one area, Kryptonians could be found somewhere else, and so on.

Now, where did the ghosts from the Middle East gather? He looked over the map Danny had given him and chewed his lip as he tried to figure out where things were in relation to him. No sun or cardinal directions made it so much harder to orient anything. Which was probably the point.

But he did have some anchors to recognize. After being to Ghost Writer’s domain, he could find that again. And he’d once gone to visit Kitty and Johnny with Danny. So that was another point of reference.

Finally, he thought he had at least enough of an idea to get close. It would have to do, though Bruce would have insisted on more research.

But Bruce wasn’t here which was the entire point.

Well, that and he didn’t want Danny to get older and not want to date or kiss him anymore. It’d be fine for a few years, but what about when Danny was twenty or forty or whatever and Jason was still the same fifteen year old kid?

He shook his head. That didn’t matter because he’d be able to grow up, too. Dick would be there to tease him about his boyfriend. And Alfred would give him a hug and his favorite meal. And Bruce would help him finish school and get into a good college and would celebrate every passing grade with him.

With those pleasant thoughts, he exited his lair. He gave it one last look before setting off in the direction he believed would lead him to Desiree.

He hadn’t been traveling very long when he approached a lair who’s ghost was sending off such strong stay-away vibes that Jason was forced to go around. Putting him quite far off course. The ghost must have been strong to control such a large area of the Zone.

Gritting his teeth, he tried to reorient himself to get back on track.

Which is when he heard a menacing chuckle from behind him. “Well, well, well, if it isn’t the whelp’s friend. You’d make such good bait. With you at the center of my trap, I may actually catch the boy and finally get his pelt for my wall.”

Jason spun, Robin costume appearing as he did. Behind him, his cape flared. “And you must be Skulker. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“I’m sure you have.” Although his face was just a mecha suit, it grinned viciously. “But you will not find me so easy to escape.” Compartments on Skulker’s shoulders opened and a flurry of small missiles flew out at him.

A wave of Jason’s hand brought up a shield that easily deflected the projectiles. He turned invisible and quickly changed position, sending his own ectoblasts back at Skulker. After months of sparing with Danny, he knew how to handle himself in a ghost fight. He could even hold his own against Johnny when he came to visit.

Of course, fighting with Skulker was not on the agenda for today. He just wanted to get to Desiree.

“Can’t you see that I have better things to do today? Go bug Ember or something!” shouted Jason.

The only response he got was another missile sent his way. Only this one tracked him. Reaching into his core, Jason sent out a burst of flame, exploding it before it could get too close. There had to be something he could do to end this battle sooner rather than later.

At the very least, he could get some distance between himself and Skulker. He retreated a bit, wishing that the Realms had more cover instead of being mostly open void.

And then he felt it. The stay-away feeling from the lair he’d avoided earlier. Skulker shouted something else, though Jason didn’t bother to pay attention to the words. Instead, he made his way closer to the lair. To his satisfaction, Skulker followed.

It wouldn’t do to project his own presence, so Jason pulled in on his power, keeping it coiled tightly around his core. He focused hard on not projecting any emotions. Danny taught him how to hide his presence from other ghosts in order to prank Dani who had tagged along to visit.

Now, to make Skulker really mad. Jason turned to face his attacker and stuck out his tongue and waved his hands next to his head. “Na, na, na, na, na, na!” he called.

“Whelp!” roared the other ghost as he pulled out a huge bazooka and shot several blasts.

Jason immediately turned invisible and pulled his aura in even tighter, flying away from his position as fast as possible.

Not even a moment later, a loud booming voice called out, “Who disturbs my peace?”

Jason didn’t wait to see what sort of ghost it was, he just focused on escaping. After who-knows-how-long flying, he slowed down and looked around. He couldn’t see Skulker anywhere. More cautiously, he let his aura expand again. There were some ghosts around, but none of them felt aggressive or seemed to pay him any mind.

Now he had to figure out where he was and how far off course he’d gotten. Looking around, the doors and buildings he could see all looked old. Stone walls and thatched roofs. Weathered wooden doors. So he was in the territory of older ghosts. Excellent. Though the architecture definitely looked more European than Middle Eastern.

He pushed on. No way was he going to turn back now.

After passing who knows how many lairs, he stopped for a moment to try and get his bearings. Obviously just continuing on was not going to work.

“Thine garb is unlike any I have seen,” commented a voice from behind him.

Jason spun and came face-to-face with an elderly woman who he couldn’t help but describe as matronly. Her dress was extremely old and she had a head wrap, though wisps of shadow instead of hair were just visible under the fabric.

“No, ma’am. I’m just passing through.”

“A pilgrimage? Where dost thou go?”

“I… yeah. I’m on a pilgrimage. I’m trying to find the Middle Eastern ghosts. Er… Constantinople? The Ottoman Empire?” He had no ideas what the countries would have been called back when this woman had been alive and hoped he got wasn’t completely off. “In life, I had some teachers from that area and I wanted to see if I could learn more in death.”

She nodded in understanding. “Much can be learned in death that life left no time for. But thou hast been turned around. Thine destination is not in this direction.”

“Can you direct me?”

She smiled. “Certainly.”

Though once she started explaining the path, Jason sent out a few curses to the ancients. Why couldn’t things stay still in the Realms? From their current position, he was supposed to go down until he came to a lair which was a stone tower that flew red flags. Then he had to spin in a circle clockwise five times. When he stopped, he might be facing Queen Dora’s city. In that case, he had to fly in the opposite direction.

But he might also end up facing a fortress made of black stones and guarded by skeletons. If that happened, he should go left. If he found himself facing a forest with a waterfall, he should continue straight past it.

And for each option, another half dozen instructions followed. Thank the ancients Bruce had tested him on memorizing complicated directions constantly as Robin. He wasn’t sure how else he would have found the way.

“Thank you,” he said once she had finished.

“May thine journey bring thee peace.” And she was gone.

Jason repeated her instructions, going straight down until he saw the tower with the red flags. He spun. And found himself facing a medieval European city with a black and purple dragon flying in circles over it. On her head was a golden crown: Queen Dora. He turned his back to the city and flew in the opposite direction.

It took so long to come across the next landmark he was told to look out for that he was afraid he had done something wrong. But he had no other guide, so he kept going.

And eventually he found it. And the next one. And the one after that.

And finally, he noticed a change in the architecture. The towers became more graceful. The materials they were made of changed.

“Desiree!” he called.

No one answered. He kept going.

Every so often he would call her name. He let his aura spread to see if he could sense any powerful ghosts. The few ghosts that were around disappeared as soon as they heard her name leave his mouth.

For the first time, he started to wonder if this was a bad idea.

Just when he was about to give it up and turn around, a presence made itself known.

Amusement, curiosity, entertainment surrounded him.

The mix of emotions sent a jolt of fear up his spine. It felt so similar to how The Joker would laugh when he got them in a trap. How he laughed when he laid that last trap; the glee he projected as he smashed Jason’s bones with a crowbar.

“Who calls me?” echoed a woman’s voice in the void around him.

Jason forced his back to remain straight as he faced the direction he could sense the presence in. “My name is Jason! Jason Todd and I have a wish.”

Smoke gathered before him forming into a giant woman with long black hair and bright green skin. She smiled at him; it sent shivers down Jason’s spine. “Lucky for you, wishes are my domain. What do you wish for, Jason Todd?”

If he still had a heart, it would be beating fast in his chest. As it was, he was glad he didn’t have to breathe. Far easier to hide how much he was starting to regret this journey.

But no. He needed to do this. All his reasons for being here still existed. It was far too late to turn back now. “I wish I was alive again with a healthy body and mind intact.”

“So you have wished it, so shall it be!” Desiree waved her hands and Jason was surrounded in a wave of power. It twined around him. He was spinning and wind tore at his clothes. He slammed his eyes shut as laughter echoed in the tornado. He curled up, trying to protect himself from the unrelenting power.

And then everything was silent. It was dark and he was lying on his back. He pushed up and yelped when his head hit something hard right above his head. Where was he? What was going on? He banged on the top of the box he was in.

He needed out. He pushed and screamed. Something shifted and he pushed harder. It was cold, why was it so cold? Something broke above his head and he coughed as dust fell into his mouth. He closed his eyes and mouth tight and kept pushing. The surface gave. It poured down on him, but he pushed his way up.

Nothing could keep him trapped. Never again. When had he been trapped before? Where was he? He pushed through and his hand reached the other side of whatever he’d been trapped in. He pushed more. His other hand was free. He grasped and pulled himself free.

And finally he could breathe. And see. Someone was supposed to be here. Where were they? Why hadn’t they come for him? He needed to find them. They were here. They had to be. They wouldn’t have abandoned him. Not again.

Where were they? Where Were They?!

He pulled himself up. He stumbled. He kept going. He had to find them. The person, people?, who were supposed to be here. Why weren’t they here?

He took one step after another. They were nearby. A person! Right ahead! Was that them? No. It wasn’t. They were wrong! Why were they here? He pushed them away. They weren’t supposed to be here. They weren’t the right person. He kept going.

But everyone he found was not right. Why weren’t they right? Where were they?

The world got brighter. More people came out. They still weren’t right. It got dark. Where was he? Why was everything wrong?

Another wrong person. He tried to punch them. Only this time, his fist didn’t connect. They said something. The voice was wrong. He tried to kick, but that was stopped to. More people surrounded him.

His arms were pinned back. Then his legs. He couldn’t move. Why couldn’t he move? He tried to scream. Something was shoved in his mouth. He couldn’t scream. He struggled. He needed to get free. He needed to find the right person. Where were they? Where were they?

The world went black. When it lightened again, he saw a pool of green.

Green was safe. Green meant home and peace and an end to the fighting and the fear and the pain. He struggled, needing to get to it. But he couldn’t move his arms and his legs. And people were touching him. Surrounding him. Still the wrong people.

He thrashed and tried to scream. He wanted the right people. And suddenly he could move again. The people ran away from him. But that was fine. He didn’t want them near him. His legs hurt. And walking felt strange. But he stumbled forward. He needed to get to the green.

He sunk down deep and let the green take over. He breathed it in and everything made sense. This was right. This was home. The woman who brought him here was the right person. She was green and green was peace.

But when the green faded, all he saw was red. Red all over his hands and his arms and his clothes.

And he was so, so cold.

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Less than a week after their date (yes Jazz, he could admit it was a date now) at Ghost Writer’s lair, Danny returned to spend more time with his boyfriend. His boyfriend.

Only… when he got there, Jason’s lair was empty and abandoned. The island was entirely gone, leaving just the door. When he opened it, a layer of dust covered everything. The kitchen was filled with moldy food. Water overflowed the blocked sink. He floated above the floor, not wanting to step in the mess. What had happened? Where was Jason? The library. He had to be there. His hand shook as he turned the doorknob.

The mess in the library was almost worse. All the books had been knocked off their shelves and lay haphazardly all over the floor—spines broken and pages torn and bent. Jason hated damaging a book.

“No. No,” he whispered. This wasn’t real. A ghost’s lair reflected their state of being. Jason was okay. He had to be.

He backed out of the library. The gym. Jason always went there when he was upset. Only the gym was empty, too. It was in just as awful of shape. The punching bag had been split and it’s sand spilled over the floor. The weights were tossed about, the floor cracked under where they’d fallen.

There was only one more room. The only room Danny had never been in before.

With shaking hands, he opened the door to Jason’s bedroom. Clothes were strewn around the floor, torn and dirty. The bed was messy, but something was glowing under the covers.

He let himself land on the floor. He needed the connection to the world. Nothing felt real. The clothes piled on the floor meant his footsteps were silent, though his breaths echoed loud in his ears. It seemed to take forever to reach the bed.

His hand shook as he reached for the blankets and pulled them back one by one. Under the last one he saw what looked like a smoldering, black coal.

Jason’s core.

“No.”

Danny instinctively took a step back. That couldn’t be Jason. It couldn’t. He didn’t know how long he stared at the burning coal. He had to move. He stepped forward again and sunk to his knees by the bed. He reached forward and gently touched the core. It was barely warm to his touch.

It should have been an inferno. Jason burned so brightly. His breath caught in his throat. He couldn’t breathe. He fell the rest of the way down, face pressed into the dirty, dusty sheets. He flared his aura.

The core felt like Jason. It was him.

Danny pushed himself up enough to cradle it gently in his hands. How could Jason be so small? He held him to his chest and curled around him. Whatever happened, he’d make it better. He’d find out who had hurt Jason and he’d make them pay.

His eyes burned and the world grew blurry as he cried, curled around Jason’s comatose form.

-----

So, don't @ me about the "intact mind" thing. I will address that later in the fic. I promise it's not a plot hole!

Tag List

@britcision, @echoednonny, @adorablechaos, @letoasai, @saphjack, @emergentpanda-blog

#dpxdc #danny fenton #jason todd #desiree (dp)#dead on main #angst #and now the happy times are over #jason and danny both have some long roads ahead of them #i apologize for butchering the early modern english i had the guide ghost speaking #things will get worse before they get better #but they will get better #they just have to earn their happy endings #i honestly planned to stop writing after the kiss #but the rest of this flowed so easily that i had to continue

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thestarchildtweets · 10 months

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#kiss band #paul stanley #thestarchildtweets #kiss army #kiss #touring #end of the road tour #the starchild #jimmy page #led zeppelin

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marvelobsessed134 · 8 months

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Hi! I'm not sure if you're asks are open or not but I was wondering if you would do the one bed trope with Tommy Thayer 😂

One bed?!

Pairings: Current!Tommy Thayer x Fem!reader

A/n: in this fic you’re a rhythm guitarist for Kiss on tour because your dad is Gene Simmons and he decided to give you the opportunity to be on stage. (It’s ironic cause my dad was also named Gene lol)

Warnings: age gap as usual (I actually don’t know how old Tommy is so if someone could let me know that’d be great but he is his age and reader is 25), little frisky but no smut, making out, Tommy has known reader since she was a kid but isn’t a pedophile obvi, kinda an uncle figure not really tho, and I think that’s it.

Summary: a shortage of available hotel rooms makes you stay with one of your biggest crushes of all time.

“Really?” Your dad asked the front desk lady, a little frustrated, a little mean. “I’m so sorry sir, but there are no more rooms available. You only booked four rooms-“

“I know we only booked four that was before my daughter was touring with us just, see if anyone made any cancellations?” The bassist asked.

The woman typed on the computer for a bit before scrolling with her mouse, eyebrows furrowed as she looked before looking back up at your father. “I’m so sorry Mr. Simmons.” Before your dad could say anything you cut in, “It’s fine I’ll be fine sharing a room with someone else.”

“Ok, share a room with me.” Your dad said.

“Dad, as much as I love you, you snore too loud.” You chuckled.

“What? I do not snore what are you talking about?” He tried ti sound offended but a smile made its way ti his lips.

“Uh, she can room with me.” Tommy spoke up. He didn’t know where he got this sudden courage from, to even think about asking Gene Simmons if he could share a room with his daughter. But they’ve been friends for a long time and he’s practically your uncle except not really. You’re not blood related and the longing glances the two of you share is anything but familial.

Your dad paused for a bit, about to say no but looked over to your and was reminded that you were in fact a 25 year old woman. “Yeah sure if that’s what she wants.” He responded.

Tommy looked to you for permission and you agreed.

Once you all got everything sorted out you and the other guitarist made your way to your guys’ room.

Only to realize,

“One bed?” You asked. It was a calm statement and part of you was feeling giddy about sleeping in the same bed as the older man.

“Aw, man. Hey it’s ok I’ll take the couch.” He said.

“No, it’s fine I mean it’s just sleeping together right?” He immediately caught on to your innuendo and bit his lower lip. Who knew you were so dirty?

Later on you ended up ordering room service and watching random tv shows. The two of you now in your pajamas since today was a rest day before the shows start.

You and Tommy laughed about something on tv when all of a sudden he shifted towards you. You turned your head to see his eyes boring into yours.

“Tommy?” You asked.

“Y/n, I hope this doesn’t make you uncomfortable or anything but, I’m glad we’re sharing a bed.” He said. Holy shit. He just confessed he liked sharing a bed with you?!

“Yeah, me too. I like you.” You replied,

“I like you too princess.” The nickname gives you butterflies.

“No like I like you. I want to kiss you.” You don’t even know where the courage to confess is coming from.

The guitarists hand went to your cheek, “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Will you let me kiss you, princess?”

“Yes please.”

Tommy captured your lips with his, the two of you moving in sync as he rolled on top of you making you lay down on your back. The two of you just making out passionately. And you never wanted it to end.

#kiss band x reader #kiss band #tommy thayer #tommy thayer x reader #kiss x reader #gene simmons #paul stanley #eric singer #end of the road tour

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kxmpfflieger · 9 months

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was reminded of this drawing of The Husbands and I thought I should share it.

#art tag ✨️#where all roads end #yes they are married its canon #they kiss in the story #ernst von etzdorf #stefan feiner #digital art #artists on tumblr #ww1 #this was for the 2022 wartober challenge on insta

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spidermartini · 5 months

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Well....tonight it it. The final KISS show at MSG.

Dec 2, 2023

Been a bit weepy all day.

It's going to be hard tonight.

Thanks for 50 years of rock and rolling all night and partying every day.

#kiss #kiss army #gene simmons #paul stanley #tommy thayer #eric singer #peter criss #ace frehley #I'm not crying you're crying #spidermartini #nyc #msg #madison square garden #end of the road

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angelbambisworld · 12 days

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Girls will take their favorite band member from their favorite band and treat him like he's the second coming of Jesus

GENEsus

Can I get an amen on this beautiful Sunday afternoon, my brothers and my sisters?

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jeffcbliss · 4 months

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Gene Simmons of KISS - Hollywood Bowl; Los Angeles, CA (11-3-23). @genesimmons @kiss

Photo: Jeff Bliss

#gene simmons #kiss #rock and roll #rock shots #rock photography #concert photography #concert #vocalist #music #musician #bassist #hollywood bowl #los angeles #end of the road tour #best of rock shots #concert photo

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rockinshots · 6 months

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KISS definitely blew the roof off Acrisure Arena in Palm Springs. Over the top pyrotechnics and overall production. We/The KISS ARMY loved every second!!

📷 @rockinshots @kissonline @genesimmons @paulstanleylive @tommy_thayer_official @eric_singer_official @kissarmy.us @mnprmagazine @soundcheck_sf @acrisurearena

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dasnabs · 2 years

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expectation // reality

I drew this fanart a year ago, who would say that it almost became canon, 🥴

thank uu Copenhell festival🇩🇰 where the first day Metallica performed and the next day, Kiss,😈

I longed for a crossover of my two favorite bands.

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youre-in-the-psycho-circus · 5 months

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Shandi | Two

Warnings: violence, abuse, hardcore action

Word Count: 1,738

Synopsis: The guys of KISS are on a mission from the Elder to find his Avatar in order to save their home Khyscz, and the whole Universe from the threat of the Destroyer. With the help of their powers and music, only She can help them defeat him and restore peace to the universe. An original idea based off of the KISS comics!

Prologue | 1

Master List

Chapter Two: Almost Human

Ace had Beth stay the night to make sure she was going to be okay. He was worried that this ‘Wicked Lester’, as she called him, might’ve done something more to her than she knew. A human bestowed power by the destroyer surely had no idea how to fully control it. Any potential side effects of the contact that Lester made with her were surely going to show during the night if at all. Ace looked down at the female sleeping peacefully beside him. He ran a hand over her cheekbone smiling softly at the fading bruise. The bit of cosmic energy he let fall from himself to her had already begun to work its magic. Most of the swelling disappeared within the first hour she had been asleep, and at this rate, the injury would be but a distant memory by morning. Ace looked down at his hands as he sat up. The arcane magics and holistic sciences all grappling for a place within the Spaceman’s head were desperately trying to figure all of this out, more importantly, why it felt that the Elder’s energy was so close yet so far. He felt a surge of that power every day early in the morning before the sun came up for a few minutes but he could never pinpoint from exactly where. With Beth laying next to him tonight he could swear that he could hear a crackle of the elder’s magic speaking to him, but then again that very well could’ve been his ‘other head’ talking to him. He hoped that the others were doing better than he was.

Ace rose from the bed, silently padding his way out to the living room. This couldn’t wait until morning. He stood in the centre of the room, gripping both hands into fists before closing his eyes. Ace was encased with a blue flash of light, his normal starry-eyed bedazzled Spaceman appearance taking hold. With another flash of light, the Spaceman found himself in the Bergen Street Lower-Level Platform once again. Spaceman sat on the edge of the platform concentrating for a few moments before one by one his colleagues appeared. Starchild was first as he stretched with a yawn. A very tired and annoyed-looking Demon followed with a grumble. Finally, a passed out on the floor Catman joined the group. “There better be a good reason this couldn’t wait until morning, Ace,” Starchild muttered as he wiped the sleep from his eyes.

Demon stood grimacing at the peaceful Catman. As much as he wished he was doing the same at the moment, he was more annoyed than anything that he could sleep through all of this. “Get up you lazy asshole!” He yelled, kicking the Cat.

Catman yowled, claws jetting out from his fingertips as he made a move to swipe at his attacker before realising who it was. “Oh Gene, it’s just you. I thought it was somebody important.”

“Now listen here you…” Demon grumbled getting in the Catman’s face before the Spaceman’s blue magics forced the two of them apart.

“Enough. We’re just as tired as the two of you, now if you would just stop bickering we can get back to bed sooner. This meeting of the Order of the Rose will come to order.” Starchild grumbled as he stepped between the two of them.

“Fine.” They both muttered.

“What’s this all about anyway?” The demon raised an eyebrow as he crossed his arms across his armour-clad chest.

“The Destroyer. He’s here, on Earth.” Spaceman replied with a worried look in his eye. The three before him stiffened very slightly at the news. “Or rather his power is here.”

“How is this possible?!?!” Catman yowled as he ran his claws through his dark hair.

“You’re sure it’s him?” Demon raised an eyebrow at the starry-eyed man before him.

“Twenty-five earth years on this planet trying to find the Elder’s avatar and this is the first time you’ve come across his power. Why now? How did you find out?” Starchild continued the questioning.

“Beth. My neighbour. Her employer is an agent of the destroyer, bestowed with his power.” The Spaceman informed them as he recalled Beth’s story to them.

“Shit, I can’t believe that a mere human has control over a power like that.” Catman looked down kicking at a rock. “She’s alright, yeah? Beth?”

“Yeah, I had her spend the night with me to make sure she was alright. I could sense that some of Wicked Lester’s magic entered her. Feels like a mind control hex was hoping you might be able to pull it from her Gene…” The Spaceman trailed off as he looked down the abandoned tunnel. “That’s not all either.”

“Don’t tell me. You found the mythical ‘Shandi’ too, didn’t you?” Demon retorted, rolling his eyes.

The four stood around the Spaceman’s bed glancing down at Beth as she slept peacefully. “What makes you so sure it’s her?” Demon asked as the Catman sniffed at the air trying to see if he came up with whiffs of the arcane magics that supposedly possessed her.

“I’m not entirely sure but I just sensed something when I felt the tug of the hex within her. The energy surge just felt so similar to that of the Elder’s.” Spaceman explained. “See for yourself.” He gestured to her glancing at the Starchild.

“Wait.” Demon stopped him. “Lemme remove the hex first. Last thing we need is it bouncing off onto you.” He grumbled before he began to chant in a language foreign to the other three. His eyes turned completely dark as he thrust a hand toward Beth. The others looked on as a crimson mist rose from her lips into the Demon’s mouth. He bit down harshly before blood poured from his mouth. The demon smirked as he closed his eyes, licking at the blood as he opened them, revealing their normal state once more.

“Is hex removal always this gory?” Catman grimaced.

“Only the extremely demonically potent ones.” Demon chuckled. “This Wicked Lester, as you call him, has quite a connection to the Demonic powers the Destroyer possesses.”

Starchild looked down at Beth’s sleeping form. He let out a breath as he closed his eyes. When he opened them, a purple beam shot out from his star-covered eye and scanned over the female from head to toe. Catman sat on the edge of the bed closing his eyes as if he were listening for something. “So is it her?” Demon asked, he was so anxious to get off this planet and kick some Destroyer ass especially after devouring that curse.

The beam retracted back into the Starchild’s eye as he finished his examination. “I don’t know, there’s definitely something different about her energy signature compared to the average human, but I don’t think it's ‘Elder’ equivalent. And even if it is, it’s very weak. No guarantees it’s coming from her, could be the remaining fallout from the Elder himself on your totem you’re sensing. Or maybe others from Khyscz came here before us and she’s a descendant.” Starchild concluded his analysis of the female.

“I don’t know Paul…” Catman grumbled as his head twitched ever so slightly, his brows furrowing in annoyance at the high-pitched whirring sound he picked up on. “I can hear the crackling of the Elder’s Starlight nearby. It always had such a distinct sound, nothing like it in all the cosmos. And the scent of it is quite potent as well.”

“There’s no way to know for sure, but it’s our best lead on Shandi’s location since we got here.” Demon grumbled looking at the girl’s sleeping form. “Twenty-five long damned years….”

“That’s only a year to us, though you’re right, Gene. For now, we’ll keep tabs on this girl…” Starchild started.

“Beth.” Spaceman corrected.

“Whatever, we’ll keep tabs on Beth for the time being while we continue our search. If she shows any signs of possessing the starlight, we’ll be ready to help her harness her true power.”

“So now we’re babysitting?” Demon rolled his eyes. “We’re Rock ‘n Roll stars, Cosmic Guards, and councilmen for the Order of the Rose, do we really have time for this?”

“For the time being, yes.” Starchild scolded.

“Shockingly, I’m with Gene on this one Paul.” The Catman spoke up. “We can’t just be going around thinking someone is the Elder’s avatar. There has to be a way we can be sure or a way we can check at least.”

“I’m not entirely sure, this would’ve been in the ancient texts in the Elder’s library back on Kyhscz, for obvious reasons we can’t go back there…” Starchild wondered aloud as he looked down at Beth’s sleeping form.

Spaceman, always sensitive to the cosmic energies, offered his perspective. "We need to be careful. If she truly possesses the Enchanted Starlight, exposure to cosmic forces might awaken her abilities before she’s ready. We need to look for opportunities where her connection can naturally reveal itself."

Demon, the most pragmatic of the group, chimed in. "But we can't just wait around indefinitely. We need a plan, and we need to ensure that she's the real deal. Maybe we can subtly expose her to cosmic events or artifacts associated with the Enchanted Starlight to see if she reacts. If she is Shandi, it might trigger something within her."

Catman nodded thoughtfully. "Yeah, but we have to be careful not to overwhelm her. We need to guide her, not scare her off."

Demon couldn't help but voice his concerns once more. "I still can't believe we're doing this. It's like we're placying cosmic detectives."

Catman let out a chuckle. “Cosmic Scooby-Doo.” Spaceman couldn’t help but let out a laugh himself. Their laughs were silenced as Demon let out a deep throated demonic growl. “Sorry…”

Starchild offered a reassuring nod. "We're navigating uncharted territory. The cosmos is full of mysteries, and we have a duty to uncover them.” Starchild's words resonated with the group, reaffirming their shared mission and the importance of their roles as cosmic protectors. They knew that the path ahead was filled with challenges and uncertainties, but their commitment to uncovering the cosmic mysteries remained unwavering. The four looked down at the sleeping female, blissfully unaware that her entire life was about to turn upside down in the most rock n’ roll way possible. “Beth's destiny and the fate of Khyscz rest in our hands."

Chapter Three: When Lightning Strikes

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