#Fully dead meets half ghost

[minty364]

DPXDC Prompt #91

Danny was dimension hopping, his original dimension was still there but after his parents disowned him when they found out it wasn’t safe anymore especially with the GIW stepping up their game. Danny just wanted to find a dimension where he could live peacefully after all he was part human and while he loves the infinite realms it wasn’t sustainable in the long run to his human half. He finally finds one where the GIW doesn’t exist at all, but the weird part is there are actual superheroes here. The weirder part is his counterpart in this dimension is part of the Justice League! The bad part is it seems in this dimension the portal fully killed him so how was he supposed to explain to his counterpart that he was half dead.

[rubythecrimsonwriter]

Tailored: Danny has the Pit Rage too. His issues are 95% of the time dead already so no one cares about him potentially killing them because they're already dead. Jason's issues are alive and everyone has opinions on him changing that status.

Broke: Pit rage is because the Lazarus pits are made of corrupted ectoplasm, so Jason can be instantly cured by Danny’s good ectoplasm.

Woke: Pit rage is because of corrupted ectoplasm, but it can’t be instantly fixed. Jason needs both physical and psychological help to treat it, and it’ll be a constant effort for years of his life.

Bespoke: Pit rage is just part of being a ghost. Danny also has pit rage, he’s just better at dealing with it because he’s been dead for longer.

[deadsetobsessions]

Danny laid across his throne, legs planted across the left arm of the ornate chair and back pressed uncomfortably against the right.

"Listen," Danny started, letting his head flop to the side as he glared at a hovering Observant. "This meeting has wasted enough of my time. You all have been arguing for hours and that's without Clockwork slowing things down."

"Your Majesty, this is a matter of great importance. Belial means to overthrow and rule my-our world!"

"I am distinctly aware aware of that," Ancients, Danny couldn't wait to go home and rid himself of the formal speech he'd had to adopt in order to be taken seriously. Well, as seriously as he cared to be taken when sprawled across his throne instead of sitting on it intimidatingly or something. He slowly placed his gaze on the suddenly still demon sitting across from him. "Yet you've proposed fifteen different plans that were all unviable for whatever reasons you've cooked up. Your conclusion is that I must step in. Does your world not have heroes to take care of it?"

The demon- another lord of hell from this Belial’s universe- fell silent.

“Ah. But if they do, they would also take care of you.”

“No- no, that’s not-”

Danny allowed his voice to drop to the artic freeze he knew his core was capable of. "I opened these these doors to allow all of you to present me with reasonable concerns regarding your own universes and realms. What is not on the table for discussion is your petty politics. Do you think I am unaware of your intentions in tattling to me? That I do not know you are trying to use me to further your own position?"

"Your Majesty, I-" The demon growled out, fear slowly coating its expression.

"It no longer amuses me. You think that I am young and easy to manipulate." Danny froze the demon to its chair. It tried to break free, but Danny isn't the High King of the Infinite Realms for nothing. "Bring to me a miserable problem like this ever again, one that could be easily solved if you used even a smidgen of your intelligence, and you will find exactly how I tore Pariah Dark from his throne."

Not that Danny knew how he did it either, he just did it.

"Yes, Your Majesty. My-my apologies."

The room is dead (Danny patted himself on the back for the pun) silent. Some of the Ancients looked bored, like Clockwork who knew Danny would never hurt them, but everyone else looked close to crying. He held eye contact with the demon until it looked away.

When Danny settled back into the throne and allowed his ice to dissipate, the room let out a collective sigh of relief.

"The next item on the agenda is another demon, by the name of Trigon." Clockwork announced, the large piece of paper comically huge next to his currently toddler-like body.

"Another?"

He flicked an amused look at the previous demon, who kept his trap firmly shut.

"He is attempting to take over multiple worlds in an attempt to conquer the universe. I had thought you would be interested in this one, Your Majesty, as he plans to begin with Earth 135."

Danny stilled. That was his Earth. His haunt.

"Does he know of the Realms?"

"Vaguely, I believe."

"Then he should know the rules. I will wait to see if my Earth's heroes are capable to step to the task."

Danny would be a hypocrite if he doesn’t let the heroes of his Earth try first, even if he is one of those heroes.

"Of course," Clockwork grinned at him, fully aware of the shit Danny's about to stir back home. Ah, the wonders of being able to influence the time stream. Perhaps the young Ghost King will finally get some friends, and maybe get those pesky speedsters to stop making his jobs so hard. Cujo yipped at Danny as the King begrudgingly moved onto the next topic.

——

Raven shuddered as she watched the footage of her "brothers" laughing while steering their human "meatbags" around. She turned back to the giant circle of donated blood and herb filled candles.

“This is a nuclear option, don’t you think?” Green Arrow mumbled, clearly not against it by the half hearted way he’d said it. The Star City billionaire nursed his cracked ribs.

“No,” she floated over to where Zatanna and Constantine kneeled, trying to see if they needed help with the inscriptions. “Trigon is coming soon, and my brothers will no doubt find their way here in a moment. We are out of time.”

“Yeah. Plus, we don’t want Raven to be turned into a portal.” Garfield piped up, switching animal forms rapidly.

“No one dies.” Red Robin muttered. His wrist computer was open, monitoring the surroundings of the open field they found themselves uneasily occupying. Batman grunted in affirmation, eyeing the tree line. Every hero except the magical ones were on look out, preparing themselves for one more battle against the two demons that were trying to take Raven and force her into becoming a portal.

“Hey guys, we might want to hurrythisupbecausethey’re kind of close!” Impulse slammed into the room.

“Done.” Zatanna got up, motioning for everyone to step back. In Superman’s case, he floated back.

“Too bad you won’t get to use it,” a voice drawled, dripping with malice and the screams of a thousand souls.

“Come now, little sister. Why fight fate? Be grateful father has deigned to spare you. If not for your dirty blood being useful, you would be dead, little sister. Give up, before our patience runs out alongside the lives of your little pets.” Another, mocking, voice gleefully rumbled.

Raven would rather gouge out her own heart than to claim these two as any type of family.

“You won’t touch them.” Raven snarled, powers rising even as the marks on her body burned a painful red.

“Buy us some time!”

With that, the group of beaten and battered heroes rose to clash against just two demons, for a chance to save their world.

——

The Circle crackled. Danny felt a tug on his core. He followed the thread of the summoning. Oh. It was his haunt. Earth 135. Hm. It tasted of blood. Desperation? A hint of anticipation. Oh, an overload of fear. Could use some more hope, but Danny understood that it was rather hard to season these kinds of summonings with hope.

“Stop.” Danny commanded, straightening in his chair.

“Sire, we have more-”

“There is an issue with my haunt,” with that, he followed the summons.

——

“Ugh,” was the first thing everybody on the frozen battlefield heard. The demons had smacked away many of the heroes, but they all turned as one when the circle lit up a bright green. “Why do you people always use blood? I’m dead, I don’t need any more iron!”

A boy

Raven’s eldest brother let out a hideous rumble. “You fools tried to summon the king, and you got a dead boy. And now, you’ve doomed another.”

Constantine looked resigned, and regretful. “I am so, so sorry,” he whispered. It was just a kid. John might be a lot of things, but even he found summoning dead kids for demons to devour was just a step too far. “Shite, we got the wrong fucking-”

“Hey, man, that’s rude,” the boy snapped back, waving John off.

“Brother, kill the whelp.”

“I vote on not killing the whelp. Not killing at all, really,” the boy stepped out of the massive blood circle, wrinkling his nose at the drying stains.

“This is not one of your pesky democracies, fool.”

In response, the demons lunged at him, ignoring the screams of the surrounding heroes as they shoved their human arms through the boy’s stomach.

“So,” the boy continues, “I heard your dad was after my haunt?”

“Your haunt, whelp? This earth shall be his! And through him, ours!” Raven slammed against the demons with her power, shadows enlarging and tossing them away from the unharmed… ghost boy?

“Is it?”

——

Wow, these demons are so rude. Normally, it’d be a breath of fresh air compared to the stuffy halls of his throne room. But since they’re attacking his haunt…

“Thanks. You’re… Raven, right?”

Raven nodded, arms outstretched in concentration as she held her brothers back.

“You have to go. We’re- we’re sorry you got pulled into this, but it’s not safe here.”

“Eh. It’s cool. You don’t have to do that anymore, by the way.” Danny stepped forward once more, green skin shifting and gliding as everything about him sharpened. He flew at the demons piloting the human shells, catching them around the necks and dragging the demons out of their stolen bodies. The threw them even further away as he floated in the air, a beacon of green and white. Raven thought it looked like hope.

“My name is Phantom, the High King of the Infinite Realms,” let it be known that Danny always had an eye for dramatic entrances. He shifted into something more off, more eldritch, more kingly. The crown flared to life above his head. “You have invaded my haunt. You have challenged me. What do you plead?”

“You’re not-” they said.

“Wrong answer,” Danny flew at them once more, body contorting into something undeniably terrorizing, his maw unhinging and crunching down on the demons with a sound that made the present heroes cringe.

“Ugh,” Danny grunted, turning back and floating peacefully to the group of heroes- Tucker and Sam would be so stoked he met Wonder Woman and Batman!- and chewed rapidly. He shifted back into his normal form. “Eating demons always leaves me with indigestion. And their bones get everywhere up in my teeth!” Danny pulled out a giant femur looking bone from his mouth, despite it not logically fitting in there.

“Right. No eating demons, solid life advice.” Red Robin said.

“Right? So, you’re Raven! It’s nice to meet you! Think you can summon your dear ol’ dad for me?”

“But we summoned you to stop Trigon, not help him come here.” Superman said, frowning.

“One! That summoning circle is wack. Those things you piled up as offerings? Mid. Also, if you thought you could control me with those terribly written spells, you’re dead wrong. And yes, I am making puns about death.” Danny jabs an aggressive finger towards the shabby circle.

“Have you considered that maybe not every being that can be summoned wants a shit ton of useless blood? Like what if I wanted food? And two, how am I supposed to beat up Trigon if he’s still stuck in the prison realm?”

“I have a cup of coffee,” Nightwing offered. “Kid Flash could probably get you food, right?”

“Yep, surethinganythingyouwantyourMajesty.”

“You wouldn’t catch me alive accepting food from a speedster. You people fuck up the timelines so much,” Danny grumbled, crunching on the last of Raven’s brothers. Raven thought she should probably sit down.

“But you’re dead.” Batman said, something about his voice catching the sharp attention of his protégés who all started making cutting motions at him.

“Fair,” Danny pointed at him, grinning. “I’ll take two pizza and Nightwing’s coffee as payment for taking care of your little demon overlord problem. Raven, summon your dad.”

——

Didn’t much like the characterization of this piece but it’s been in my drafts for a while and I needed it out

[bodybaggage]

Monthly Phantom Check Up

Frostbite, Danny’s overly enthusiastic yeti doctor, shows up at the Watchtower for a surprise check-up, and things get awkward fast.

———

The Watchtower was in chaos. It wasn’t a typical day of chaos—no alien invasions or time-traveling villains—but something far more uncomfortable. Frostbite, Danny Phantom’s towering Yeti doctor and self-proclaimed “Master of Ghost Medicine,” had arrived unannounced. His massive, fur-covered frame loomed in the main meeting room as he carefully unpacked a series of glowing, intimidating medical instruments.

Superman leaned over to Wonder Woman, voice low. “Is this... normal?”

Wonder Woman’s brow furrowed in thought. “I don’t think this falls under the usual protocol for supernatural beings.”

Across the room, Danny Phantom stood in all his half-dead glory—or rather, slouched in defeat, wearing a hoodie that seemed far too large for his ghostly frame. He was clearly trying to shrink away from the entire situation, one pale hand covering his face in mortification.

“Frostbite,” Danny hissed in a hushed whisper, “you couldn’t have waited until we got back to the Ghost Zone?”

Frostbite beamed, oblivious to Danny’s pleading. “Nonsense, Great One! Your health is of utmost importance, and I detected a slight imbalance in your ectoplasmic core. It must be addressed immediately!”

Batman stood against the wall, eyes narrowing as he watched the scene unfold. “Ectoplasmic core?”

Frostbite nodded solemnly as he began to prepare an absurdly long, glowing probe. “Indeed, Batman. The Great One is half-ghost, and thus, his core requires regular maintenance. There are many nuances to his biology that need tending to.”

Danny groaned. “Oh, Ancients, kill me now…”

The Justice League—gathered for what they thought was going to be a strategy meeting—could only look on in awkward silence. Aquaman coughed and pretended to adjust his trident. Green Lantern pulled up a holographic projection of the solar system, which he stared at intensely despite not needing to. Flash, of course, was barely containing his laughter, lips twitching every time Frostbite said something ridiculous.

“Now,” Frostbite continued, holding up a glowing vial of something green and gooey, “the first concern is the ectoplasm imbalance. Too much exposure to the Ghost Zone can cause buildup, which leads to... ah, let’s say, irregularities.”

Superman cleared his throat. “Irregularities?”

Frostbite nodded gravely. “Yes. In the human digestive system, it might be compared to... indigestion. But in ghosts, it manifests as random phasing, ectoplasmic leakage, and occasional transformation into a much more terrifying version of oneself.”

Superman blinked. “That sounds... worse than indigestion.”

“Oh, much worse!” Frostbite said brightly, not catching the sarcasm. “Especially during ghost puberty. It’s when the ghost’s core is developing at its most volatile stage.”

Danny’s entire face turned bright red. “Frostbite! Seriously?!”

“Ghost... puberty?” Batman echoed, voice laced with what could only be described as grim fascination.

“Indeed!” Frostbite said, now fully in doctor mode. “The Great One is well past that stage, but it’s important to note that ghost puberty can last several decades for some. Phantom’s transformations would have been wildly unpredictable for years, often triggered by emotional stress or large quantities of fast food.”

Flash actually lost it at that, letting out a snort and quickly covering his mouth. “Sorry, sorry! Just—did you say fast food?”

Danny rubbed his temples. “Yes. I went through my ‘ghost puberty’ eating burgers and stressing about math tests. Can we move on?”

Frostbite chuckled warmly. “Ah, yes. The human world does have its unique challenges for the Great One. Now, the next matter—”

“There’s more?” Danny wailed, half considering flying straight through the floor and never coming back.

“Oh, yes!” Frostbite said with far too much enthusiasm. He turned to the League. “His dual nature also means his ghost half sometimes conflicts with his human immune system. It’s a fascinating process! For example, Danny can phase through objects, but if he catches a human cold, it throws his phasing abilities off and he might accidentally phase into a wall and get stuck.”

The room went silent.

Batman stared at Danny. “You’ve... phased into a wall?”

Danny gritted his teeth, wishing for the sweet release of invisibility. “I was twelve, okay? And yes, I got stuck. It was fine.”

“Mostly fine,” Frostbite corrected, waving around a spectral thermometer. “There was that one time we had to extract you from a particularly thick brick wall in Amity Park. Took several hours.”

Wonder Woman, who had remained silent up until this point, exchanged a concerned glance with Superman. “Is this something we should... prepare for?”

Danny shot them both an exasperated look. “No. I’m not going to phase into the Watchtower’s walls. Probably.”

“Unless his ectoplasmic levels are low,” Frostbite added cheerfully. “Which is why this check-up is vital!”

As Frostbite pulled out what looked suspiciously like a ghost-themed blood pressure cuff, Danny gave up. “I’m going to die—again.”

Flash wiped away a tear of laughter, his shoulders still shaking. “This is the best day of my life. I didn’t know ghost puberty was a thing.”

“I’ll send you my research papers,” Frostbite said kindly. “There’s a great deal of fascinating biology involved!”

Danny, ignoring everyone, shot a glare at Batman, who was watching all this with far too much interest. “Don’t even think about adding this to my file.”

Batman didn’t respond, though his fingers twitched ever so slightly toward his utility belt.

Frostbite, oblivious to the ongoing awkwardness, finished prepping his tools. “Now, Great One, if you could just sit still. This next part involves extracting ectoplasmic residue from your pores—”

“I’m phasing through the floor,” Danny muttered, promptly sinking halfway through the Watchtower’s pristine floor, only his head remaining visible. “See you guys never.”

The Justice League stood in stunned silence as Frostbite packed away his tools with a serene smile.

“Very well,” Frostbite said. “I’ll schedule the next check-up for next month. Goodbye, Justice League!”

And with that, the massive Yeti doctor vanished through a portal, leaving the League standing there, trying to make sense of what they had just witnessed.

Superman finally turned to Danny, whose head was still poking out of the floor.

“Danny... you okay?”

Danny didn’t respond, choosing instead to fully disappear beneath the floor.

Flash wheezed. “I love that kid.”

[i-am-hungry-24-7]

[I only have 30 pounds in my bank account] - Mafia!TF141*F!Reader

Summary: You sigh when it's the fifth time someone fights in your poor tea shop this month. You just open it two months ago, in an area ruled by mafia called '141'. Maybe you should find their boss and give them money or what to stop the bullshit keeps happening in your shop. (well, here they come)

Mafia!TF141*F!Reader, but only Soap and Ghost in this chapter unless I extend this

chapter 2

You’re just trying to fulfill your dream, plus survive with the money you earn with your shop, but you start questioning if this is a good idea, maybe you should just listen to your friend and be a 9-5 worker, sitting in front of a laptop the whole day.

This isn’t a good location to open a tea shop, your little shop will rather become a place for dealing drugs or getting extorted in the first month. The area is fully ruled by the mafia, hence the cops couldn’t do anything here, but it makes the rent extremely low, which you’re able to afford with money you saved during school, and have a tiny shop that can barely squeeze in more than 8 people.

Looking at the scene playing in your shop for the fifth time this month, you stare at the people fighting and break the cup with dead eyes. You want to shout, to kick these guys' ass out of here or hit them with your broom, yet you glance at their muscles and the knives in their hand –  probably killing every day as work out, to your opposite one because you slump onto the bed once you close the shop and go upstairs, you choose to remain silent as the yelling only become louder.

Maybe you should find the mafia boss or some henchmen and give them half of your income to prevent the mayhem, but first, you don’t even know who actually rules this fucking place; second, you doubt they will have interest in your skimpy bank account. The only information you have is the mafia ruling here called ‘141’, since it’s an open secret to residents here.

“What are ye arseholes doin’?”

Fuck, here comes another one, or two as you spot the man with a balaclava behind the mohawk man who's speaking. They are tall, muscular and built like bricks. Grown like giraffes either, you complement when you need to crook your neck up to look at them stepping into your shop as if it's their backyard.

but the chaos halts immediately as you watch your ‘customers’ seem shocked with terror at the men.

You pretend you’re deaf and attempt to bury yourself in your counter. Please don’t kill me I didn’t hear a goddamn word and didn’t see you threatening them. You recite your defense as you scrub at the same tea cup till the distinct accent from the mohawk man catches you off guard that you almost drop it.

“I guess it’s already clean, lass.” A smirk appears on his face as he points at the cup.

“Wh– what do you want?” 

“Calm down, jus’ want te have some tea.”

“I only have 30 pounds in my bank account.”

“We’re just sayin’ we want tea.” The taller man speaks for the first time after coming in, and it startles you but forces your brain to function at the same time.

Ah, they aren’t here for money. You finally get what they’re talking about.

“Isn’t it supposed te be a tea shop here? One cup for him, and give me a cup of coffee.”

“Oh, of course. What kind of tea would you like, Sir?” You shift slightly to meet the other man’s eyes, and you want to shiver under his cold eyes.

“Just give him whatever you recommend.” 

They round over the glass scattering on the floor and take a seat closest to your counter after you nod at them.

While boiling the water, you sneak a glimpse at them, and the shape of guns covered by their clothes are unignorable as you scold yourself to stop looking at them, or the bigger guy might stab your eyes, but you still curse whole-heartedly in mind when the Scottish accent man meet your eyes with his azure ones and shines you a grin.

Should just quit staring, or you shouldn’t open this shop at all. Regretting your decisions as you turn back and focus back on making their drink, you’re able to recognize them staring at you from the periphery of your vision. Is it too late to kneel down and beg for your life right now?

You still perfectly make their orders and bring them the drinks, even though you’re sweating internally. At least don’t mess it up, and your confidence in your tea and coffee isn’t born from nothing, as you notice the man with the skull balaclava takes a sip first, then raises his eyebrow, added with a side glance at you.

“Haven’t seen him amazed by tea in years, it must be very good.” The mohawk man whistles as he sips at his coffee and gives an approving nod too.

“Thank you…” Your ego shouldn’t be boosted by mafias, but you still relax a bit knowing you didn't screwed up.

“When did ye open ‘is shop?” The man asks while the other continues drinking his tea, but seemingly taking in the conversation too.

“About two months ago."

"That’s why we didn't know about it before…” He taps at the table twice before shooting you another question “Got blokes like those in yer shop earlier often?”

Death sentence is served to your front, that’s what you think you hear. Is it better to say yes or no? Judging by the fact those people are their minions, you’re not sure if saying yes is indicating they haven’t controlled them appropriately.

“Tell us the truth” 

“Yeah, it’s the fifth time this month.” Swallowing, you confirm. Lies aren’t meaningful, and surely they’re able to pierce any veil with those scrutinizing stares and keen minds.

You watch them sharing a glance, and Soap takes out a pen along with a piece of paper, and starts scribbling on it.

“Here, call this number when you run in trouble, aye?" He shoves the paper into your grasp “I’m Soap, call him Ghost.”

"It’s a nice shop, we’ll come back soon.”

Your little shop drops into peace again as your customers leave, and you gaze at the generous tip lying on your counter, to the paper in your palm.

A number is written on it, with a big badge of ‘141’ beside it.

Oh shit, so your shop just became the most far-flung mafia’s property without you knowing.

[lakes-writting-rambles]

Out Of Choice, But Not Out Of Reach - #1 Inevitabilities And Such Unfortunate Things

words:2889

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Sometimes your destiny is completely out of your hands – Danny Fenton couldn’t seem to find a way to avoid learning that lesson. First; when he was shot when Slade invaded the headquarters of the League, and subsequently his family, was using, while the fight between Slade and Grandfather was going on, he used the chaos to get to the Lazarus Pit before he bled out; a second time when he died in that godforsaken portal; the most prevalent one was definitely his first meeting with Clockwork, there he noticed that it doesn’t matter how hard you try, if it isn’t meant to be, someone will interfere. It doesn’t mean he won’t still do things as before, but now there’s forever the dread of knowing.

It’s been about a year since what he, Jazz, Sam and Tucker dubbed “The Dan Incident”, and Danny can't seem to stop thinking about it. Well, not really about Dan, no, but about Damian. He can’t stop thinking about how Dan likely ended up killing Damian – it’d be inevitable, and, considering the state the future he had been shown was in, he hoped Damian went early on, really, he also hoped it was quick, like he tried to do when he was in the League.

What really bothered Danny, though, was that he couldn’t help but wonder if staying with the Fentons even was a good idea at this point. Surely he has learned that misfortune would follow him anywhere he went, so why wait for the shoe to drop? Before the accident, he was relatively safe to live the rest of his life in Amity, sure, it was kind of a deadend, but it was tranquil, so he couldn’t really complain. Now, though? He was in constant danger inside and outside his house, being half dead meant no place with the living and no place with the dead. He should leave while he still can.

The League isn’t likely to spot him, considering it’s been years since his “death” and he probably looks different enough from Damian now… which is something he’ll have to think about later. And the threats of dissection (vivisection?) by his parents keep increasing – he doesn’t want to fuck around and find out.

So, the League is probably not an issue anymore, staying seems to get more dangerous each day and he’s pretty sure most ghosts only come to Amity to fight him.

Nevertheless, running away also came with a plethora of problems, for one: leaving Jazz and his friends. When he got adopted into the Fenton household he tried not to get attached to anyone. He couldn’t keep that up for long, as a touch starved 9 year old that came from a violent background and got thrown into a very loving family. First, he got attached to his parents, then Jazz, Tucker, and finally, Sam. He doesn’t regret it, not one bit, but it might make this choice hard to make – since the easiest way to run away would be to fake his death and forgo any contact with everyone from his old life. Maybe they’d know he wasn’t (fully) dead, maybe they’d just be extremely miserable, he wouldn't know. 

Another issue is that he’s the current Ghost King, and oh boy doesn’t that complicate things? He keeps getting more powerful, which means keeping his cover is getting harder – an unsettling and overpowering aura surrounds him now, and sure, it reacts to other people’s emotions as well as his own, which in theory should make it easier to hide, since everyone in Amity seems to have differing opinions on his two  personas, but the fact that his aura is big enough that others take notice is concerning enough on its own; he’s control over his abilities needs to be impeccable or he risks getting found out; and he’s pretty sure some of his more ghostly traits are beginning to bleed over into his human form. He also needs stable access to a portal, since he needs to take at least two trips per month to the Ghost Zone so he can check over things with Clockwork and parade around to remind the citizens of the realm that he is their king; he can’t officially take over since he’s still alive, once he’s entirely dead he will, but for now the observants act as regents and that’s more than fine by him.

And third: he’s not really sure where he should go. You’d think Gotham would be his first option because of his father, but he has too much media presence, so Danny’d be brought to the spotlight. Does anyone in Amity care about Gotham? Not that he knows of. But it’d still be too big of a risk. Plus, Tucker really wants to work in Wayne Enterprises in the future, he’s sure that it’d become a problem in no time.

So… what to do? Money isn’t a problem, since he has access to all the treasure hoarded by Pariah Dark over the centuries, but that’s not all he has to consider. He needs some sort of safety net, that much is obvious, and since he won’t be able to count on his regular support system, he should fall back on his blood.

Maybe he could go to Blüdhaven? It’s close enough to Gotham that he can go there if he somehow needs to come into contact with someone from his biological family but not enough that he’d be immediately clocked… but then there’s Nightwing… as long as he doesn’t get  into any trouble it should be fine, right? It’s not like there’s a city without a hero nowadays… Urgh, nevermind, he’ll come back to these thoughts later, he’d rather not spend his rare moment of peace coming up with what to do after he fakes his death.

Sometimes fate decides that things should be ultimately out of your hands – but Damian Al Ghul Wayne fights with all his might to avoid such a thing becoming a rule in his life. When he came to live with his father, around 7 years ago, he held out hope that his twin had made it and would eventually return to his side. That never happened. And now Damian isn’t sure how to approach the topic of Danyal with his family, so he just… doesn’t. Even after all this time, it feels wrong to keep the memory of Danyal to himself, he should be celebrated, even if his death was premature and almost a decade has passed.

Danyal had died the same day as Grandfather, which is why his grief isn’t questioned –, even if the Bats are well aware of his distaste of his Grandfather’s actions, now that he’s recognized them for what they were. Damian isn’t sure if it’ll ever come to pass, because in quiet moments like this, he thinks of what could have been.

His twin was never needlessly violent, and his killings were virtually a mercy, compared to the others in the LoA, even himself. Maybe he would have adapted faster than Damian did, maybe he would have made a better Robin, maybe they would still wake up together and share little moments of quiet.

It’s all speculation, all it will ever be. They never found his body, but even now, years later, the image of his pierced chest is burned between the other twin’s eyes, it wasn’t likely to survive a wound like that, and even if he did, the bloodloss would’ve killed him regardless. But to a 9 year old, the what ifs often overshadow reality, which is why Damian had kept his hopes up, afterall, one of the many teachings of the League was that “if there isn’t a body then one should always consider the possibility of the victim having survived”. But now, at 16, he could see it for what it was, the foolishness of a child longing for what is gone – he’ll never admit it, but in the darkest, deepest and most hidden part of his heart, Damian still has a little bit of wonder, almost completely squashed, but a bit of hope of seeing his brother once again remains.

There’s no use for pondering at the moment, time doesn’t stop and soon one of his siblings will notice his absence at breakfast and come to pester him, thus he gets up and readies himself to face another hectic morning.

“If I were to go missing, where would you search for me first?” was not a question Tucker was ready for, like, at all, but especially at two in the afternoon on a saturday. Danny hadn’t been the same since that thing with Dan or whatever they had dubbed it, he didn’t change much, but he seemed to get lost in thought more frequently, and Tucker didn’t blame him! Really! But man, what went through his head was morbid at times, and he maybe shouldn’t voice those out of nowhere.

— Uhh I guess… your parent’s basement? — awkward silence fills the air, it’s the most obvious answer, but not a thing they normally consider outloud. A grimace crosses Danny’s face for a second.

— No, I mean, if I …ran away. — he says, and there’s some hesitancy. Obviously, there’s more to the question, but Tucker can’t for the life of him figure out what it could be.

— I’d guess Wisconsin, since it’s close by and you might be able to rely on Vlad if push comes to shove, but that is not likely at all, — Sam starts before coming to a slight pause to think. — Maybe Missouri?

— Why…?

— Cause it’s close by, it’s not like we’d let you get far before going after you. — she smirks and gives his arm a little punch.

—  I think we’d find Danny in Florida, actually, — Tucker chuckles before continuing — it’s the only place where he wouldn’t stand out.

— Oh, screw you. — He says before he lunges at Tucker.

Sam watches for a bit, the conversation got to her more than it did to Tucker. She decides that now isn’t the time to worry about it, she doesn’t think Danny would leave them behind without saying anything, not after all they’ve been through, but it did leave a sour taste in her mouth. To stop herself from spiraling down a rabbit hole, she jumps – literally jumps – into the struggle. 

That is how the three friends end up scratched all over, with dirt and grass stuck to their clothes and silly smiles on their faces, looking up at the sky as the clouds pass by. Moments like this used to be common, but with the chaos that is Amity Park nowadays a chance to just relax and joke around as friends seems more and more like a luxury.

Their peace is interrupted when Danny sighs, a defeated sigh that usually comes after his breath fogs – which means there is a ghost nearby. A shout ruptures the quiet and kills any hopes for the rest of their afternoon.

— BEWARE! I AM THE BOX GHOST!

— Alright, — he gets up and stretches. — Just wait for me, I’ll be back in a sec.

Sam and Tucker look at each other, worried glances on both ends – they didn’t even need to say anything. Things will never go back to the way they were before, that is something all three know intimately. Danny died. Everything they have witnessed is bound to leave some sort of mark as well. And there are the Fentons. Sam and Tucker knew Danny and Jazz loved their parents, but at this point it seemed inevitable that someday they’d turn on Danny, and it seems that even if he doesn’t talk about it, it’s also something he believes.

It feels unfair, Danny seemed to have come from a bad background and was settling into his own skin and fully letting his guard down for what felt like the first time before the accident. And wasn’t that heartbreaking? He’d adjusted to the life in Amity early on, but to actually enjoy himself? That took some 2-3 years, and to trust that he could always rely on the people around him? It had just started happening into the beginning of their ninth grade. Then the portal opened and he had to put some of those walls back up to protect himself, not just emotionally, but physically as well. Now, they’re in 11th grade, they should be looking for colleges and studying for entrance exams, but instead, Danny is thinking of running away.

They know how their friend thinks at this point, and it’s undeniable they’ll likely have to say goodbye soon.

Dealing with the Box Ghost wasn’t hard, but it sure was annoying. After the fight (if you could even call it that) ended he went back to Sam and Tuck, they laid on the grass for a while longer, ultimately, they got hungry and headed to the Nasty Burger and ate before parting ways.

Danny plops face first into his bed. Well… he could have approached that with more subtlety. Maybe it was his subconscious trying to get them to look for him, or something, to prepare them for his absence. That sounds too close to something Jazz would say…

He turns around, putting his arm on his forehead. His thoughts keep getting away from him, always back to Damian – would he have liked Amity Park? Probably not, if he was being honest with himself. He couldn’t even see himself liking it there when he arrived – in fact: He had hated it. The city was so calm it felt forced, the Fentons so loving it felt like a trap, the kids lacked any malice at all, everything screamed danger at him, like he was about to be ambushed. Nothing ever came to that, just a nice, cozy, little town. 

Well, until the portal opened, that is. 

He stops and just looks at his ceiling for a bit, the old glow in the dark stars already discolored and lacking any actual functionality, there was no reason for them to remain there but the attachment to what they used to be, kinda like him. There was no escaping his current reality. No escaping his need to desert this city, this family, this life. 

Danny sits up and looks around his room, which for the last few years had become his safe haven. He looks at the stained carpet, marked by his many sleepovers with Sam and Tuck, he looks at his ceiling fan, that was cracked from the time the trio had tried to recreate the solar system on it, he looks at his closet, his posters, his desk, everything that was proof of the life he had lived here.

He needs some water and something to eat before setting his plan up.

As he heads down the stairs to the first floor he hears his mother’s soft voice coming from the kitchen.

— Oh Jack, I’m so worried about Danny, — the phrase startles Danny, he turns invisible and intangible, floating a bit so as to not make any sound, — his ecto-contamination has only gotten worse over the years… how can we be sure he’s okay?

— Honey, I’m sure Danno is fine! He must be building up resistance!

— But what if… what if it’s fusing to him? What if there’s no reversing this? — His mom is chewing on her lower lip, clearly distressed. 

At the sight, his dad softens up and hugs her, his voice comforting as he speaks, — We’ll make sure he’s fine, Maddie. We might not know what happened, but we know each other and we know what we’re doing, we’re experts in our field. 

Danny can’t stay there anymore, they know he has ecto in his system and they know it’s getting worse. They know and they want to “fix” him. He’s completely and utterly fucked. 

Alongside his nervousness there is also newfound resolve. He quickly phases into his room, grabs his thermos, maybe two shirts and a pair of pants, he shoves it all inside an old backpack he hasn’t used in years. He will need to dispose of his phone, taking anything electronic with him will leave a trail and he can’t have that. Hopefully his parents don’t have his ecto signature yet, he doesn’t think he has the time to get rid of it if they do.

He checks the kitchen again, they aren’t there anymore, likely back in the lab, then. He has to leave through the front door, to not raise any suspicions. Now, how to make this realistic? Maybe he can fake being murdered? No, Amity doesn’t really have that type of violence. Maybe he can fake being a casualty in a ghost attack? But he’d have to damage public spaces to do so and he doesn’t want to endanger anyone else… Fake getting kidnapped? It wouldn’t be the first time it happened, even as a human.

He could also just up and leave. It’s not like Amity has any actual investigative police force… Maybe he’s complicating things too much. He needs to go before he has time to chicken out. His parents will probably make a move on his ecto contamination within the week and he can’t be there for that.

— Bye mom, dad, be back in a bit! — and so, he shuts the door – leaving his house for what will probably be the last time.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Inevitabilities And Such Unfortunate Things > Those We Leave Behind

AO3

[ailithnight]

Aheem... prompt from @regonold

16 Hours

Danny remembers the first time something shorted out his powers. Vlad with his stupid Plasmius Maximus thing. Well, 'remembers'. Mostly he remembers the aftermath.

Apparently Vlad hadn't known at the time exactly how Danny ended up half ghost. He thought it had been a slower progression like his own development. It hadn't occurred to him that Danny's original death had been much quicker.

Danny remembers a short, light shock. Really, the spector deflector was worse. But this shock... suddenly his muscles were seizing, his heart stuttering, his Lichtenbergs burning. And then, nothing. A blank space in Danny's head that apparently spanned 3 hours.

Next thing he knows, they're in some kind of vehicle. There are sirens outside (a police escort, Danny would later learn). His mom is driving like her life depends on it. And Vlad is giving him chest compressions, looking grieved and panic striken. He's crying. They both are.

"Please tell me you didn't have to kiss me." His voice comes out pained and raspy. Mom almost crashes the vehicle.

"No, Little Badger. Thankfully, you kept breathing. Just your heart that was struggling." Vlad chuckled, guilty yet relieved.

It was another hour before they made it to the nearest hospital from the stupid hunting cabin. 6 more for all the stupid medical tests. "An accident," Vlad told them. "Small shock, but with an already weak heart..."

Any other time, Danny might have argued. Tried to make Vlad admit more guilt. But the whole ordeal had exhausted him to much to care then.

The second time was marginally better. At least with the Fenton Crammer, it was a steady loss. And Danny managed to fix it before his healing factor fully failed. It still hadn't been pleasant, fighting Skulker and dealing with Dash while phantom echoes of his death arced across his body. But he'd managed.

This. This is so much worse. Danny thought it would be like the Crammer again. A steady decline. But it isn't.

And it isn't like the Maximus either, a one then done, pain then nothing, dying then dead, moment.

No. This is more like the blood blossoms. This is torture. This is hell.

The suppression cuffs let just enough of his power bleed through, just enough healing factor, to keep him alive. Alive and in agony for... hours? Days? Weeks? Minutes? Danny couldn't really tell. His thoughts had long since turned to nothing but static and pain. All he knew was that time was passing around him while he was here, suffering on the absolute brink of death yet unable to embrace it.

Oh god he wanted to die. Please just let him die already! It's too much. A death that should only last a few seconds drug out into an eternity. His muscles ached with the strain of being locked up. His insides were broiling from the electric heat. His heart stuttered and stopped and started and stuttered. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts!

He might have been screaming. He might have been Wailing. Or he might he been choking on weak uneven breaths. Danny didn't know. Didn't care to know. Didn't care if he ever found out the details of his time in chains. He just wanted, no needed, it to end. But it just dragged on and on and on. And Danny was lost in it.

Too far gone to even realize when it ended.

.

Batman hadn't been there when the new meta appeared, quite literally materializing from nowhere in the conference room mid-meeting. He had been dealing with a mass Arkham breakout at the time. So he wasn't there. An unfortunate fact which will haunt him for the rest of his life and possibly beyond.

He should have been there. If he had only been there...

He didn't blame his team mates. They didn't know. Who would have guessed that simple power suppression cuffs could ever be an instrument of torture. He'd never considered it possible.

He didn't blame his team mates. How could he blame them? Batman wasn't even the one to connect the dots. Red Robin figured it out. He always was good at stringing together thoughts know one else would think to connect.

Red Robin asked the right questions. He figured out in 5 minutes what the rest of the league and the best doctors -not technically- on earth had been agonizing over for 16 hours.

16 hours too long.

He should have been here. Should have come sooner.

"Don't know, B!" Flash had met him at the Zetas, already rambling at top speed before he could reorient himself after teleportation. Everyone else had gone home, unable to help and needing to tend to their own cities and responsibilities.

"He just- He appeared out of nowhere while we were in meeting. Didn't trip any alarms or nothing. Just popped up. We figured it had to be teleportation, but he'd have to know where the Watchtower was to do that.

So we figured, you know, random kid teleporting into the Watchtower during a Justice League meeting. Not good. Big threat. Bats would tell us to detain. So we did.

But before we could get him to a holding cell, there was this flash of light and he changed or something. He had white hair and green eyes and some sort of jumpsuit on when he appeared.

But after the light he had black hair and a t-shirt and jeans and I actually didn't see his eyes cause he just collapsed on the spot.

Started convulsing or seizing or something. And screaming. God, B, the screaming... So we took him to medbay and...

He's dying B. He has to be. He's got a fever that keeps spiking and dropping, his muscles keep spasming, and his heart keeps giving out...

He looks 14. He looks like..."

Flash had trailed off there, as they reached medbay. Bruce understood his reluctance to complete that sentence as soon as he saw the boy.

He looks like a Robin.

Like all 4 of his sons combined.

Like someone mixed Dick's and Jason's faces and put it on Tim's body at Damian's age.

It can't even be a trick. The suppression cuffs are nullifying his abilities. This is what he truly looks like.

His sons.

In pain.

In agony for 16 hours because Batman prioritized Gotham over an emergency on the Watchtower.

"When exactly did you say he collapsed."

"When we were moving him to a holding cell after we caught him. He was a trick to catch too. He-"

Red Robin cut him off. "Yeah, sure. But when exactly did this start. What happened immediately before?"

Flash was less then pleased about being interrupted, but acquiesced after a look from Batman. Tim had an idea. Tim was on to something. "Like I said, just after we caught him and got the cuffs on so he'd stop slipping away again."

Bruce couldn't keep the growl out of his voice one he realized what Tim was suggesting. Of course he knows it wasn't their fault. He's told all of them as much since. But in the moment...

"Take them off!"

"What?"

"It's the cuffs! Take the damn cuffs off! They're killing him!"

Flash wasted no more time, bolting out of the room to fetch the disabler. Tim didn't bother waiting for the fastest man alive. He had the cuffs disabled before Flash would have been able to swipe his access card into the detainment center storage room. Bruce practically threw the cuffs out of the room in his haste to get them away.

The change had been... not nearly as quick as Bruce would have liked. The heartrate settled out almost instantly, although into something a bit too slow for comfort. But it was steady and Bruce knew nothing about this kid's normal physiology so he counted it a win.

The screaming, of course, had long since choked off. According to Flash's report, his vocal cords failed after about an hour. But his facial expressions still indicated consciousness, though not awareness.

The muscles stopped spasming and unlocked slowly over the course of several minutes. Flash was back by then, looking a bit put out to have lost a race against Red Robin. Batman could not give a single flying fuck about Flash's ego right then.

Shortly after his muscles unlocking was when he finally passed out. Once more, Batman thought about 16 hours. 16 hours and he hadn't even been able to slip into unconsciousness for relief. He should have been here.

The fever was the slowest to break. In that it still hadn't broken almost 2 hours later. Batman had sent Tim and Flash home after Red Robin finished squeezing all the details he could out of Barry. Tim had given him a look before leaving, some mixture of worry and mischief. "Should I tell Agent A to prepare a room?" Bruce just rolled his eyes and shooed him off. Hopefully to bed. Knowing his son, probably not. Tim was most likely still up doing research. Bruce wanted to call Alfred to wrangle Tim to sleep.

But calling Alfred would mean leaving the room so the still potentially a threat meta couldn't hear if he woke up. And Bruce couldn't leave him. Not until the fever broke. Not until he woke up. Not until he knew the boy that looked like his sons would be okay.

Not until he could apologize for being late.

16 hours.

16 hours too late.

[ghostgirl101]

Imagine making friends with Cassidy, the young boy possessing Golden Freddy.

|| Word Count: 522 || Platonic Fluff ||

A/N: Goldie's my favourite character from the FNAF world, so I had to write a bit of something for him .-. if you want to see anything specific for any of the FNAF. movie characters then go ahead and request some stuff, as long as it's not smut, and platonic/childhood sweethearts with the missing children :)

Ever since you started working as a night guard after Mike Schmidt’s resignation, surprisingly, you aren’t attacked by the vengeful animatronics who stalk the building. If anything, they’re protective. Especially Cassidy, the quiet young boy who always seems to be watching from the shadows. He’s killed someone before who got too close to you. You’ve even seen him smile once, a massive rarity.

He lingers in the corridor and watches you from the distance with an unreadable look, a hint of a smile on his face. You glance up from the camera screens to meet his calm, but equally sharp and intense stare from across the hall, piercing through the darkness cloaking the entire building, generators always seeming to fail and leaving Freddy's in an ominous night-cloaked tone.

"Hi, Cas," you say softly into the dark room, Cassidy tilting his head ever so slightly to the side in an almost curious response. You can't help but smile slightly at that, the traces of childhood and its blissfull innocence, not completely snuffed out by the horrors that took it all away from him so many years ago. He says nothing.

"Come to keep me company?" You offer with a half-smile, reaching out a hand in his direction, slowly and steadily, ready for him to reject it in silence and step back into the blackness that he seems to so effortlessly emerge from.

Cassidy hesitates for a long moment, before taking a soundless step forward, gazing at your hand blankly, as if not entirely trusting the gesture. But then, slowly, slowly, he stretches out his arm and smaller hand to meet yours, cold dead fingers brushing against yours. You smile fully, squeezing his fingers between yours gently, comfortingly, your other hand brushing back his fine blond locks away from his eyes.

"Poor thing," you find yourself mumbling aloud to yourself. "You're freezing..."

It's a good question of if Cassidy can actually feel the chill, but it doesn't seem to bother him. The foreign positive touch is nice and soothing, and a ghost of appreciation makes his mouth twitch into an almost-smile. He rests his head against your shoulder, breathing out a small content breath from his nose, as your fingers skim the boy's hair. He looks so little and quiet and distant, and for a moment, it seems like a ridiculous idea that he could be capable of anything close to murder, though he most certainly is.

You glance back at the cameras absentmindedly... then again. A frown tugs at your brows, and you peer closer at the digital, hazy image of the abandoned party room... and an intruder, someone who had found their way into the building, or was very likely lured there, lying still and cold on its floors.

"What...?"

Your voice trails off in realisation, and you roll your eyes, half amused, before looking back to Cassidy with a brow raised, as if to say, "really?"

Cassidy, of course, blinks back up at you with unfaltering innocence, his gaze only sharpening with matching amusement and something familiarly dark and unsettling that lingers in the halls of the Pizzeria.

"He fell asleep."

[cod-dump]

They weren’t paying attention to the conversations around them.

Ghost was leaning back against the couch, dead asleep, while Soap leaned against him dozing. Gaz took up the rest of the couch, head resting on Soap’s lap while he stretched out, playing on his phone as he debated on getting up to go to bed.

Nik and Price were talking in the kitchen connected to the lounge, it was hushed as they didn’t want to disturb the boys. Soap was half listening to what they were saying, choosing to mostly focus on Ghost’s steady heartbeat and the slight movement from Gaz as he messed with his phone. It was a lazy evening, no reason to move or not fall asleep.

“Oh? Is Bear coming back?”

For some reason, the hushed tease in Nik’s voice immediately grabbed Soap and Gaz’s attention. Soap blinked and leaned away from Ghost slightly, now fully interested on listening in on the conversation in the neighboring room.

“Shut the fuck up, Nik. Will you ever let that go?”

“Absolutely not.”

Gaz slowly sat up, turning his head to meet Soap’s gaze before they both look over the back of the couch.

“Why not? I miss him,” more teasing followed by Price’s less than pleased growl.

“Too fucking bad.”

The conversation ended after that, Soap and Gaz snapping their heads forward to focus on the long forgotten TV, Price quietly storming out of the lounge behind them. Nik followed not long after, a quiet laugh under his breath. Soap and Gaz sat in silence, the show that played before them still receiving none of their attention.

“Who’s Bear?” Soap asked, turning to look at Gaz.

“I have no idea, never heard of anyone by that name before.”

That intrigued them. Nik and Price’s shared past was full of adventure, stories that would keep them entertained for the rest of their days. But both were rather quiet about everything they went through before the boys came around. Well, except for one.

“Hey, Simon.”

Ghost was awake in an instant, there was no need to poke him to get him awake. He straightened up, on edge before he settled after noticing that there was nothing to be alarmed over.

“Fuck- What?”

“Do you know someone called ‘Bear’?”

Ghost blinks before he snorts, “Please tell me Nik isn’t trying to make Bear come out.”

“So you know him?”

Ghost grins, “Yea, so do you.”

They should’ve known better than to think Ghost was going to give them a straight answer. Instead he smirked before rising off the couch, grabbing his mask off the arm of the couch as he walked around it.

“Simon-!”

“G’night, gentlemen,” teased Ghost before he left the room.

Soap scoffed, “That asshole!”

Gaz just stared in front of him, thinking. Then his eyes widened in realization.

“Is… is Bear Price?”

“… Oh my GOD-“

“He is!”

“So he lied about never picking up a callsign in his rookie days? Why am I even surprised?”

They never heard anyone refer to Price as Bear, not until now. Which makes Soap and Gaz only wonder about why.

[karlachismylife]

Oof I feel that chronically I'll ask, except mine is chronic pain in my hips, I have to take pain meds before work or else I'm dead by the end of the day.

I can never fully get comfortable due to the amount of pressure in my hips and back there is due to it. I feel like 141 would help me actually pop and crack everything I need to though.

I think I would scare them with how loud it is tho, I managed to half crack my back once and my partner thought a bone literally broke with how loud and crunchy it was

Ouchhh, I'm so sorry to hear that, love, that sounds like hell to go through every day, hip pain is a bitch...

They totally would do it for you. I feel like Ghost and Gaz would be best, Gaz is just too fucking smart and knows what to do, plus he's sooo good at distracting you from the momentary discomfort, you know, just sweettalking you and stroking your back to ease the tension, and then CRACK. Boom, you're already better. And Ghost is very methodical, he's done his research, he's got very capable hands, he'll do it quickly and probably be a bastard about the sounds you make. I bet he's used to popping his own fucked up joints and bones into place, with his solo missions and his back story, so he doesn't get spooked by it, he'll just call you Nutcracker or something. Especially because his just don't crack that loud for some reason, okay, Mr Stealth.

I bet Price's back makes same noise. He's not an old man, I know, but I just think his back is messed up (hense that little stretch he does constantly), so the morning in your household starts with a percussion improvisation from your joints ><

Soap's the one who gets freaked out. Probably because he's actually barely had any fractures, especially full ones (i am yet to meet and ADHDer who had broken a single bone, i swear, we're somehow avoiding it at all costs), so he's only used to hearing it from people he does this to in combat, and sounds AWFUL LOT SIMILAR. So he'll be just chewing on his snack and then Ghost comes up to you from behind to give you a quick fix cuz he noticed you get uncomfortable in your posture, and Soap's like ??? YE BROKE OOR BONNIE YE SICK BASTART???

[perseidlion]

So for no reason in particular, here's a master list of my Dead Boy Detectives fic.

Cat and Ghost - M, 40k. (Catwin, casefic, Sandman crossover, post-canon)

A few months after their return to London from Port Townsend, the Cat King shows back up in Edwin’s life. He’s bent on courting Edwin, and has somehow acquired a magical collar that allows them to properly feel each other. Edwin meets him in secret, unsure of whether he’s ready to tell Charles about the relationship.

In the meantime, business at the Dead Boy Detective Agency continues. They receive a case where a woman is trapped between life and death, tethered between the mortal realm and the beyond by a cursed sorcerer.

But there may be more going on than meets the eye, and an Endless pulling strings from the shadows…

Through a Mirror, Darkly - M, ongoing 25k as of Aug 31. Updating 1-2 times weekly. Sequel to Cat and Ghost. Continued Catwin + developing Cricketcrow. Casefic.

It's been a few months since Edwin, Charles and Crystal left Port Townsend after the death of their friend Niko. They've done their best to move on. In the meantime, they've matched wits with Desire of the Endless, and Edwin has started dating the Cat King.

Cat's gift of a spirit mirror offers the boys a chance to speak to Niko again - if she is indeed on the other side.

Bonus: A short fic, The Human Bargain fits in this continuity (between Cat and Ghost and Through a Mirror, Darkly) where the Cat King teaches Monty how to transform into a human again.

Daydreamers - M, complete, 3.6k. My contribution to the Payneland first kiss genre.

Ghosts can't sleep, but they can daydream. Those daydreams sometimes bring revelations.

Love in Red and Blue - T, complete, 1.5k. Niko and Edwin friendship short.

Niko and Edwin have a movie night and watch Red, White & Royal Blue. The movie unearths feelings in Edwin and Niko supports him.

Warning: spoilers for the RWRB movie in this! If you haven't seen the film, you probably won't be confused but also probably won't fully get Edwin's reactions!

Your Body or Mine? - M, complete, 36k. Multishipping (Payneland and Catwin focus), pre-poly bodyswap fic.

Edwin and Charles are granted a 'Hall Pass' from Lost and Found that allows them to become human again for a limited time. They were warned not to mess with the spell, but curiosity got the better of them. The spell goes wrong. Instead of ending up as human versions of themselves, they end up in each others' bodies - with the others' tastes and proclivities.

They must pretend to be each other as long as they're human, lest Lost and Found discover they tampered with the Hall Pass.

The Legacy of Edwin Payne - T, complete, 2.1k. Alternate universe fic where Edwin and Charles both live and meet for a brief window at the end of Edwin's life.

It's 1989. Charles Rowland is about to be sent off to boarding school by his abusive father. Before he can be sent away, the police catch his father abusing his mother and arrest him.

An elderly gentleman, Edwin Payne, who lives in Charles' neighbourhood, consoles him as his mother is being tended to.

CW: Domestic/spousal abuse. Referenced but not seen.

---

I have at least a half dozen other ideas for stories, both short and long. I have no intention of stopping writing anytime soon.

[alavestineneas]

Together

pairing: Johanna Mason x fem!reader

summary: Johanna hears the baker assure Katniss. District 12 tributes remind her so much of them. She was once seventeen, and she was once blindly in love. It irritates her—why are they allowed to be like this? Why did she have to hide?

warnings: mentions of suicide attempt, typical hunger games violence

''I think I'll retire quite sooner than I intended with that girl,'' Blight announced, flopping down on the sofa with a distinct sound.

Haymitch chuckled at the man's visible misery, passing him a glass from the nearest tray. ''Is she back at it again?''

Blight nodded in defeat. ''I tried to be understanding, you know, with all of that happening to her family, but my nose is bleeding for the second time this week.''

Haymitch mastered a sympathetic face.  "I've met a lot of monsters, but teenage girls are by far the worst beasts.''

Y/N rolled her eyes at them. ''I'll talk to her.''

Blight looked at her as if she had three heads. "There is no point unless you want a black eye instead of that makeup.''

''Well, I am also a teenage girl, which is what you are so afraid of,'' Y/N said as she stood up from the couch and straightened her dress. ''If I am not back after half an hour, call security.''

''Or doctors,'' muttered Blight under his breath.

"Or doctors." Y/N shrugged.

To be fair, Y/N was quite intrigued by Johanna Mason, the most recent victor. Cunning, quick, and violent—this is what the media tried to portray her as. Y/N knew better than to trust their vision—after all, according to them, she herself was the Capitol's darling, bathing in love and fame for the past two years.

Judging from the sound, somebody was moving furniture in the room. Y/N knocked, more out of habit than from need. The doors in the Capitol are never fully locked—another illusion for a fake sense of privacy.

"I said go fuck yourself, or did I completely knock out your brain?'' a girl's voice responded from within.

Y/N chuckled. "Is this how you talk to your elders?"

The pacing around the room stopped.

''Who are you?'' the Mason girl asked, obviously surprised.

"You'll find out when you open this door—not the best way to start a friendly conversation, is it?"

The loud thuds continued as if nothing had happened.

Y/N sighed. Why can't things be easy for once? She pressed the hidden silver button, and the door unlocked.

A girl with black hair looked at her with wide eyes. She was standing on the chair, holding a piece of rope.

''Hanging? Very original, I'll give you that.''

''What do you want?'' the girl grumbled, undoubtedly dissatisfied with the failed attempt.

''I want you to come down and get dressed,'' Y/N answered, glancing at the undone bed and shattered glass everywhere. ''As simple as that.''

''No.'' The girl looked determined, still standing on the chair. ''I am not going to another idiotic party with those fuckers.''

''Really? I hope you believe in ghosts, because you'll be dead tomorrow morning.''

''I don't care. I don't want to live anyway.''

''Has anyone ever told you that you are such an egocentric bitch?'' Y/N asked, leaning against the wall. She surely got Mason's attention with that—the girl looked at her, insulted.

''Excuse me?''

''You should've just died in that arena and given somebody a chance to live. Take my tribute, Elly. Do you know how much she wanted to survive? Why steal her chance if you'll waste yours anyway?''

"My entire family is gone, and you want me to smile for the cameras?"

"You are correct; they would have been overjoyed to learn that you honored them by killing yourself over a damn party."

The girl stared at Y/N, debating whether she should listen, before getting off the chair with a slight thud.

''I'm Johanna.'', she mumbled.

Y/N grinned.  "Nice to meet you, Johanna. Now let's show these bastards who they are messing with.''  

-

Y/N writes to her almost every week. Johanna has learned the schedule by now - she writes on Saturdays, and on Thursdays, a white envelope is sitting on the porch. She complains about life in District 8, the horrendous dresses she got as presents for her birthday, or how her make-up team appeared to lose their taste after changing the designer.

Johanna never answers. She tells herself it is for the best—she can't get attached to anybody. Mason keeps all the letters neatly stocked in the first drawer of the closet. She won't admit it, but she rereads them every evening. Then, it's easy to pretend they are just two ordinary 17-year-olds.

She doesn't allow herself to answer. Not until Y/N mentions that she is back at the Capitol. Johanna knows what it means—while her friend got to keep her family, it cost her a lot. Only then, she takes a pen and sits at the table, scribbling a response.

It looks messy—nothing like the nicely curved letters Y/N has. She rewrote half of a paper five times. Johanna shoves it into the envelope and sends it off before she can change her mind. She can't help but smile when she gets an answer. Y/N doodled a funny figure, suspiciously similar to Johanna's, covered in spikes. Mason gets the message—she will write more often.

-

Johanna mentors for the first time; her tributes are both alive, which has been rare for so long in the Games. The mentors' lounge is not as crowded as it was in the morning; most of the past victors take turns monitoring the arena. The quiet chatter is the only sound besides the screen. They talk about a dinner tomorrow, a new escort, stylists—anything but the Games.

Y/N is also here - the boy from District 8 is still hiding. They both know the game makers won't allow it for too long. Y/N anxiously fidgets with the rings on her hands, staring at the void. Johanna guesses they are never getting used to it—even older mentors are visibly uneasy, almost too drunk to walk a straight line.

A scream draws her attention back to the screen. A massive, tiger-like creature charged at the boy Y/N mentors. He tries to fight it off with the nearest stick, screaming in horror as the animal opens its mouth and takes a bite of his leg, tearing it off.

Johanna's head flies at Y/N; she is already watching, lips pursed into a white line. More screams ring in the now silent room, along with sounds of growls and what Johanna believes to be the sound of tearing flesh. Finally, the screaming stops; the camera changes to Career's pack.

The mentors try to hide their gaze from the Y/N's figure as she stands up from the couch and leaves the room, her steps echoing in the hallway.

The District Two mentor pours himself a glass of whiskey, downing it in one go; most mentors follow him, and the conversation completely vanishes.

Johanna tries to recollect herself, adjusting the hem of her shirt. The boy's blood-stained face still runs through her mind, so she doesn't notice a figure behind her until somebody places a hand on her shoulder.

''Go talk to her. I'll watch.''

It's a blonde woman from District One - Cashmere or Gloss, Johanna was not sure. She wants to argue but quickly changes her mind. The woman obviously means no harm. So, Johanna nods.

She finds Y/N easily - she is in the training room, sparring with animated figures with a spear. Johanna recalls Y/N telling her that the only reason she chose spears was because they resembled the sticks she used to practice with at District 8. Mason thinks she was joking - her friend was hitting every target with ease right now.

Johanna sits down beside the girl on the burnished metal floor. She was never good with words; it was Y/N who always seemed to know what to say.

''I'm sorry.''

''He was very happy to eat ice cream, you know?'' Y/N says, her voice faint.

"It was his wish?"

Y/N nods. ''It makes them feel better, I think. Hell, it makes me feel better about sending them to their deaths—to know I did something good for those kids.'' She looks down at her hands, her lips trembling. ''He was a nice kid and died such a horrible death, Jo, such a terrible, cruel death.''

Y/N's voice breaks.

She leans into Johanna's embrace, and Mason almost instinctively wraps her hands around her friend's shaking shoulders. It was the first time she saw Y/N like this. Without a mask Capitol made her wear, without the walls she built around herself. Just Y/N.

''We are going to be alright,'' Johanna says.

She hopes her words sound convincing. Of course, they're a lie - nothing is ever okay in this messed-up world. They both know this, but Y/N still whispers a small thank you.

Johanna's heart aches, and a familiar warm sensation spreads through her chest. She resists the urge to wipe the tears off her friend's face. They are friends, and Johanna is happy with that. It is still a lot more than she deserves.

-

Today is Y/N's birthday, and the Capitol is throwing a big party for "the favorite." Johanna doesn't ask why she has this title. Of course, they adore her - Y/N won the Games when she was fifteen. She grew up in front of the camera, and, what is more flawed, she grew up with people behind it.

It is easily seen when Y/N's face changes each time she walks on the stage. Her warm eyes transform into big doe eyes, and a picture-perfect smile appears. She is a perfect actress, quick to come up with a witty remark or play into the naïve girl they view her as.

She won the Games that way; Johanna has to remind herself. Y/N got a 3 as a training score, possessing almost none of the fighting skills. She did, however, know what the Capitol wanted: someone charming, attractive, and willing to put on a show. That and the desert arena got her where she is now.

The perfect victor now lays on the floor next to Johanna, her head on Mason's lap. They are both twenty-one now, not that their age ever stopped them from stealing the alcohol. The party is tomorrow, and Snow wants to put on a show. For now, they can live.

''Jo, can I tell you something? But you must promise not to be angry.''

Mason responds with a hum; she enjoys hearing her rash ideas. The braid she is making out of Y/N's hair is coming out not like she intended, and Johanna huffs in annoyance. ''Just spill it, would you?''

Y/N's face becomes serious. ''I think I am in love with you. And to be fair, it scares the shit out of me.''

The world stops for a second. Johanna thinks she did not hear it right, but there is no other way to understand this. She feels her heartbeat in her ears, loud enough to cover any other noise.

''Well. Yell, scream, or say something. Anything.'' Y/N sits up, a half-finished braid falling undone.

''We can't,'' Johanna says nervously, licking her lips.

''So, you feel this way too?''

"No, that is not the point. We can't do this.''

''Why?'' Y/N takes her hand in hers. ''They'll have to allow it. We can even be a secret if you want to. We'll figure it out, I promise.''

''No.'' Johanna shakes her head. ''You know what happens to the people I love, Y/N. One wrong step, and you will be dead. I can't do this, not again.''

Y/N pauses. "I think you are just afraid to be happy."

"No," Johanna whispers, "I'm afraid of losing you."

Y/N blinks, fighting the tears gathering in her eyes. She opened her mouth to say something, but Johanna was faster.

''I'll go. It's late.'' If she stays any longer, she might lose it.

The door behind her closes with a loud bang. The realization comes suddenly - she lost the only person who loved her. Johanna lets out a few choked sobs, sliding against the nearest wall in a small, empty hall. The worst part is that she loved her too.

-

Johanna is mad—furious even. The Capitol already did everything in its power to break her, yet here she is, going back into the arena. Her reaping wasn't that much of a surprise; she is the only female victor in District 7. Johanna is convinced every name drawn wasn't random—a brother and sister from District One, Finnick and his sweetheart Annie, Y/N.

They meet in the bathroom before the interviews, of all places. Y/N is attempting to remove the mascara from her eyelid, and Johanna is trying hard not to laugh - if only the cameras saw her like this, she would undoubtedly win over all of the sponsors. No other victor radiated as much anger and determination as she does now.

''Stop laughing and come help me,'' Y/N grumbles.

Johanna grins. ''I wasn't laughing.''

''Yeah, whatever.'' Y/N watches as Johanna picks up a napkin and dips its end in the water.

''Close your eyes.''

Y/N does what she is told, the corners of her lips twitching. ''Yes, ma'am.'' She earns a slap on the hand from Johanna. ''Ouch! What was that for?"

"Not everything has to be a sex joke, you know?"

''Well, where is the fun in that?" Y/N opens her eyes. Johanna's face is inches away from hers. ''Jo...''

''Shut up," she mumbles, covering the girl's lips with hers.

Y/N throws her arms around her, pressing Johanna's body as close as humanly possible. The kiss is hard. Griping. Almost painful. It's like they can't get enough of each other. But Johanna wouldn't want it any other way.

Y/N pulls away first, watching Johanna take a few rushed breaths in. ''I thought we couldn't do it,'' she jokes.

Mason rolls her eyes.  "I liked your mouth closed better."

Y/N's face turns serious, her playful expression vanishing. ''Regarding that. Give them hell. For me.''

Johanna nods. ''I promise.''

-

It wasn't supposed to be easy, and Johanna is reminded of that by stupid birds; while she pities Finnick and Katniss, she is also jealous - they still have someone to care for. Mason doesn't know if Y/N is still alive - the last time she saw her was at the Bloodbath. She can't swim.

''They won't touch Prim!''

Johanna hears the baker assure Katniss. District 12 tributes remind her so much of them. She was once seventeen, and she was once blindly in love. It irritates her—why are they allowed to be like this? Why did she have to hide?

''Your fiancé's right. The whole country loves your sister. Forget the districts; there will be riots in the Capitol if they torture or harm her.'' Johanna turns to the cameras and yells. ''Hey, how does that sound, Snow? What if we set your backyard on fire? You know you can't put everybody in here!''

She feels the stares of her alliance on her, but frankly, she does not care anymore. ''What? He can't hurt me. There's no one left that I love.''

Finnick glances at her, eyebrows raised. He knows. Y/N was his friend too.

-

Johanna tries to meet her fate with anger at first. It served her well throughout her life, as she dealt with every adversity with sarcasm and insults. Mason maintains her arrogance, refusing to allow them to hear her screams or begs. Johanna refused to be turned into entertainment, even after losing. She didn't cry when they cut her hair or beat her. She told herself, "The help is near.''

It provoked them more. The torture becomes more violent day by day until Johanna is exhausted. She has endured it for weeks, and help still hasn't come. She just wants to slump in her chains and silently take it.

The breadboy's cells are next to hers; she hears his screams more than she does her own. Johanna wasn't sure how much time had passed until she heard another familiar cry.

It's Y/N. Mason can swear on the remains of her sanity that it was her voice. She was alive. It takes Johanna everything not to show how much those shouts affected her—it could mean more torture for the District 8 victor.

Johanna now awoke from Y/N's screams and drifted into unconsciousness with them, as if by clockwork. The torture was sometimes worse than electricity. Her biggest fear came true—she sacrificed their happiness for nothing.

Mason is drawn away from her thoughts by another couple of screams. The sound of water pouring fills her ears - it's all happening again.

-

Johanna finds herself even more isolated when they are finally rescued. In a sense, they were in this together in the Capitol; she could at least hear other people, even if it was just screams. Johanna was now completely alone; whereas Peeta had Katniss and Annie had Finnick, Johanna had no one to look out for her. Johanna doesn't want to fight anymore. She is tired. There is a void in her soul, and she doesn't know how to fix it.

The doctors here tell her it's okay not to feel understood, but Johanna knows old Y/N would. She always somehow did. Mason wonders why everyone in her life despises her - what has she done to deserve this? Why do others have someone to return to, someone in their right mind? Why couldn't it be them?

Y/N was still under the constant attention of the doctors. They meet twice a week under strict supervision. Y/N listens to Johanna attentively each time, but something about her gaze feels odd. She can't place it - Y/N is distant and quiet, but that's unusual. Mason tells herself that it was the outcome of the torture they had to survive and that she'll get better with time. It's not her Y/N, but Johanna can't be the one speaking. The Capitol changed them both.

It finally clicks for Johanna when she hears that doctors found a knife in Y/N's room. A knife that she intended to use. It was the absence of hope in her eyes that felt unusual; before, it was always there.

''You are such a hypocrite, you know that?" Johanna tells her. They are in a hospital ward. Y/N's face is tear-stained, and yet, she doesn't answer. ''Remember what you told me the first time we met? That you have to live for those who can't?''

Johanna is angry. She is furious, both with Y/N and with herself, as well as with everyone in this dreadful building. Why can't they understand?

''Well, maybe I lied.'' Y/N's voice is hoarse. It was the first time she had spoken since their rescue. ''There is no point in living anymore, Jo. There always was none.'' She shifts on her bed, looking up at Johanna. ''It never gets better. So it's fairer if we end it now and save ourselves a lot of suffering. ''

''No.'' Johanna's hands are in fists, and she comes closer to the woman in front of her. ''You are not fucking allowed to decide that, not when I spent all those days staying alive and sane for you. Do you hear me? Not for me, for you! I woke up and listened to your screams. I thought about you before I fell asleep because I knew we would get a chance to finally have a normal life when this was over. And now you're saying there's no point?''

Y/N's lower lip trembles, with glimmery tears running down her sunken cheeks. ''I'm sorry.''

Johanna sighs and settles in next to her. ''Look, I can't promise anything. I don't know if it will ever be okay. But we can try.''

Y/N looks at her, and her eyes are finally warm again. ''Together?'' she asks.

Johanna feels the knots in her chest loosening for the first time in a while. ''Together.'', she nods.

[tales-of-the-ghost-zone]

Danny Phantom x Moon Knight

Been obsessed with the idea of the crossover between these two shows! Mostly because it’s Danny Phantom cannon that Tucker is the reincarnation of an Egyptian pharaoh!! And the crossover would come in with Tucker’s past life having being one of Khonshu’s previous avatars. Hell it could even be that Tucker was Konshu’s first ever avatar!

Like I’m just picturing a scene where the Moon Knight System and Khonshu meet team Phantom and Khonshu takes one look at Tucker and just has a stroke cause that is one of his previous avatars who died thousands of years ago wtf is he doing here alive and looking like a teenager. And if we’re going with the whole Danny is the king of the ghost zone via conquest, his next thought would be and why the hell is he hanging out with the king of the dead?!!!!

Meanwhile the whole of team Phantom can see Khonshu, Danny because he’s half ghost, Tucker because he’s a reincarnated pharaoh who was a previous avatar, Sam cause she was once given ghost like powers for a short time by Undergrowth and is now not fully human anymore, and Jazz because she’s lived in Amity Park exposed to ambient ectoplasm in the air for so long that she’s now liminal as hell!!!

Team Phantom is just staring up at this giant bird skull person in absolute confusion. And then Tucker just kind of squints at him for a moment and goes “hey I know you!” And the Moon Knight system is just standing there in the background confused as all hell, looking back and forth between this group of kids and Konshu.

[aprocessionofthoughts]

Freedom

whumptober24 day 16- necrosis, wound cleaning fandom- dp x dc tw- none summary- Danny is finally free

masterlist ao3 part 9 of ITR

Danny woke up somewhere that wasn’t the warehouse. He barely had any strength left, but he managed to look around. He was in what looked like a hospital room. He had only just started to panic when the door was flung open and Sam and Tucker rushed in.

“Danny!” they called together.

He smiled weakly. “Hey, guys.”

He grunted as they both wrapped their arms around him. “Can’t breathe.” he wheezed.

“Not like you need to.” Sam muttered, but they both eased off.

“It’s still nice to do.” Danny responded.

Sam scowled at him. “How dare you scare us like that. Daniel James Nightingale.”

Danny’s expression softened. “Sorry.”

“We’re just glad you’re alright Danny.” Tucker said, giving Sam a pointed look. She sighed, looking at the ground.

“Glad you’re not dead.”

“Well, deader at least.” Tucker said, smirking.

It was quiet for a moment, then Danny sighed, closing his eyes. 

“How much do they know?”

“We told them you were liminal.” Sam said. 

“Though we’re pretty sure the sad trenchcoat man and the bat furry don’t fully believe us.” Tucker said.

“It doesn’t matter. You don’t have to tell them anything, Danny.” Sam said.

Danny opened his eyes, glancing down at the bandages over his chest. “Do you know what he… what he carved into…”

Sam laid her hand over his. “It was a runic sequence. They sewed the wounds closed and bandaged you up, but we should probably still go see Frostbite. He used blood blossoms.”

“I know.” 

They were quiet another moment. 

“Maybe we should tell them.” Danny said. “They’re going to notice when my wounds don’t heal properly, and you both know that blood blossoms cause necrosis if not treated properly.”

They winced, and Tucker bit his lip while Sam scowled.

“This is your secret, Danny, whatever you decide we’ll be here for you.” Tucker said, and Sam nodded.

“Yes. And if they do anything wrong we’ve got plenty of blackmail material to keep them quiet. Tucker already hacked their systems, and I’ve got several ghosts on call.” Sam said.

Danny started to laugh before wincing in pain. “Yeah. I think we need to tell them something, before we go to Frostbite. I’m stable right now, but it would be best to get to the Far Frozen soon.” He paused. “What about the Anti-Ecto Act?” he whispered.

“They’re working on them.” Sam said.

“They are.” Tucker said. “I’ve been keeping track of their progress. They’ve got the GIW on hold for now, and it’s only a matter of time before they’re dissolved completely. There’s already drafts for laws that will go toward protecting ghosts. And…” Tucker glanced at Danny, “it would probably help if they had someone who could explain things better. Especially considering you’re going to be in charge one day.”

Danny rolled his eyes. “That’s a long time away. It’s not going to happen till I reach my natural death and then I’ll still have one hundred years to learn and train before taking the position.”

“We know. But you’ve still got connections that could help make the process of drafting the new laws easier. It would also help to establish relations early on.” Sam said.

Danny nodded reluctantly. “Alright, but we aren’t going to tell them about my status or anything.”

“Agreed.” Sam and Tucker said.

“Alright then,” Danny sighed again, “let the Bat in. I’m sure he’s the most curious.”

—

Batman walked into the room a half hour later.

“Hello, Mr. Nightingale. I am glad you appear to be recuperating.”

“Yeah. Thanks for helping out with my rescue.”

Batman inclined his head slightly.

“I assume you have questions.” Danny said not quite meeting Batman’s eyes.

“Yes.”

Danny sighed. “First of all, were you able to capture the cultist?”

“Yes. After you were rescued we were able to use a spell to locate where you had come from. Alfrus Bane is now in custody and the artifact he used has been locked up by Constantine.” Batman paused before continuing. “We are also making good progress on taking down the Anti-Ecto Acts. Rest assured the government will no longer be able to touch you… or anyone else who may be like you.”

Danny nodded. “Thank you.” He sighed. “My friends told you I was liminal, death touched.” Danny paused before deciding to just charge forward quickly. “That’s true but also not. I’m a bit more liminal than most. That’s why the artifact was able to control me. It happened once before and I was able to destroy that particular artifact. I would like this one to be destroyed as well. To keep others safe.”

“I will talk to Constantine about it, but I do not guarantee anything.”

Danny nodded. “Do you know of the Infinite Realms?”

“No.”

“It’s a place between dimensions, between realms. Imagine it like a sandwich. The bread is the dimensions and the stuff inside the sandwich is the Infinite Realms, except that the Realms connects all dimensions. There are creatures that live there, often called ghosts though not all of them are the consciousnesses of dead people.”

“And the GIW were after all the residents of this Realm?”

“Yes. You can see how the Acts could be catastrophic. If enough people from the Realms suffered at the hands of the GIW, they could have decided to attack.”

Batman stiffened. “I see. We shall make sure to dismantle the Acts and the GIW quickly and be sure they face the consequences for their actions. Is there someone… from the Realms who we could seek out to make amends with and possibly create a treaty?”

Danny suppressed a grimace. “There is. I can help get you in contact with them once I get better.”

Batman nodded. “Is there anything else you wish to tell me?”

Danny nodded. “There is, but I need to seek medical help first.”

“Is there anything else we can provide?”

“No.” Danny said, shaking his head. “The nature of my injuries means I need to seek help in the Infinite Realms. I will go there, and when I get better I can come back and explain things more thoroughly as well as get you in contact with someone from the Realms.”

“That would be greatly appreciated.” Batman inclined his head towards him. “I wish you a speedy recovery, Mr. Nightingale.” 

“Thanks.” 

“Contact me when you are better.”

“I will.” 

Danny sighed as Batman left. That went okay, but he still wasn’t looking forward to having to explain things more. And he was dreading having to approach Batman as an ambassador or something of the Infinite Realms.

Oh well. He was free. He closed his eyes and let himself feel it for the first time since he woke up. He was free. Everything else could wait till he was better.

[aphroditesmoon]

whatever fits together

gwen stacy x spidergirl!reader

summary: gwen meets your little brother for the first time (･ω･)

warnings: afab!reader, orphan reader, makeout session.

A/N: idk man I just want gwen to wife me up fr.

♡♡♡

ALL YOUR LIFE, you've only ever saw your brother in your future. There were other people, of course. Whatever friends left that you you haven't ghosted or the ones that haven't left you at the time. But the only constant present you've ever considered in the decisions you make for yourself, has always been your brother.

You were orphaned at 14. Technically only your mother had died in the bus accident, but you can barely remember your father's face, he was dead in your mind.

When Miguel scouted you in, you saw how he tiptoed around your story, and how he tried to sympathise with you, but if you were being honest, you can't really remember how you managed to raise your brother on your own for 3 and a half years while also learning to manage your newfound powers. You knew you it was hard, but you also knew that before you joined the Spider Society, every decision you made was for survival, it was your natural instinct.

There were no space in your life for you to sit around and be a child, nor were there any time to consider every emotional and mental consequences your choices could've provoked. You had to grow up. You had a 3 year old to raise then.

Once you've joined Miguel, you thought you'd finally find some sense of peace within yourself, with all the security and stability the spider society provided.

But coming home to an apartment you've been provided after your first mission, all you felt at the sight of your clothes, arranged in an actual closet instead of a duffel bed, and your brother sleeping in a room he could finally call his own, was nothing, except for a terrible and tremendous stab of pain in your chest.

It was all worth it for him, you truly believed that. And yet you felt like it wasn't worth anything to you.

The strangeness of feeling so alone around a place filled with so many people. You didn't know the first thing about making friends, or having hobbies. In fact, you weren't even sure if you knew what you really looked like anymore, with all the crime fighting and changing hotels every week, you didn't really have the time to be looking in the mirror. It was terrifying.

And yet despite all of that, the universe has somehow managed to slip in an angel shaped as a blonde and witty girl in your life. Somehow she was a lot more shittier in starting up conversations than you were, but from the first glance you shared with Gwen, a mutual understanding was formed.

And from there, a bond was made.

You love early mornings, even when you were often alone, the hours spent after the clocked reaches 11pm have always felt loud, and suffocating. Shops are fully opened and streets are filled with people off to work. So every day, like an automatic alarm clock, you'll find yourself waking up around 7 to 8am to fully enjoy that morning glory.

You've seen the sun sparkle everday in your life, but never have you seen it shine this beautifully through your light blue curtains. Looking below it, your eyes meet the sleeping form of Gwen Stacy by your side.

She was snoring lightly, and though it annoyed you at first, it was also a subtle reminder to you that she was there, next to you, as you tossed and turn in your bed trying to get used to the alien feeling of sleeping with someone else besides your smaller sized brother sharing your bed.

Checking the time on your phone, large numbers of 9:15 reflects on your eyes. making you let out a low sigh.

You came home and slept late last night. Arriving to your apartment through a portal past midnight, hand in hand with Gwen as you introduce her to your house, and to your roon.

It was a Saturday, you comforted yourself. And you were in your bed, making out with the most beautiful girl you've seen, what's the rush anyways. The sudden slam opening of your door jolts you up, and enters from there, a very loud and jumpy 7 year old who was expecting the joyous feeling of finally being able to wake up earlier than his older sibling and getting to brag about it.

He halts on his step when he sees the stranger at your side, who is now wide awake thanks to the slammed door.

"God's sake, what did I say about knocking?" You scolded while getting yourself out og bed, toes clencing at the cold tiles when your feet reaches the floor.

"There's someone next to you, can you see her?" He asks, ignoring you.

Gwen's face was dazed and confused, her eyes were squinting and she wasn't showing any signs of getting up. "Yeah I see her." You replied, walking over to him. "That's my buddy, yeah? Be nice to her."

You hear a incoherent mumble from him as he remains staring at her strangely.

"Why don't you help me get the eggs out? You can help me make breakfast?" You suggested, turning him around and kissing the back of his head. "Is she getting breakfast too?" He asks while walking away to the kitchen, his loud voice bouncing off the walls. "Yes, please." You shouted back to him before moving towards your girl again.

"Sorry about that." You spoke with a much hushed tone. Gwen has her upper body up and againts the headboard, eyes fully open as she takes you in under the sun's glow. "No it's fine, I actually forgot you had a brother to be honest." She admits, smiling as you crawl onto the bed towards her. "Really? I thought I must've been talking about him too much that everyone probably has his name memorised." You chuckled. She hummed and shook her head.

You let your fingers intertwine with her laid out ones, closing your fists into hers. "Do you like eggs?" You whisper at her, leaning in closer to her face. "Yeah, I do." She whispers back, booping your nose. "I also like your brother, he's cute." She adds.

A laugh sprouts out of you as your foreheads lay againts eachother's. "Oh no, he's a real fox once you get to know him, next thing I know you two will be teaming up againts me." She snorts and pulls away slightly to properly look at your face. "Also buddy?" She teases, recalling your early words. "I had my tongue down your throat like-" You groaned and shoved her playfully trying to hide your blossoming smile.

"Oh yeah, sure, lets tell him that." You intererject sarcastically. She rolls her eyes and presses a kiss on your cheek before climbing off the bed where you're still on.

She walks over to your desk and then to your vanity, last night's crumpled shirt still on. "You have a vinyl player." She noted, pulling out your vinyls.

"Japanese Breakfast-" She reads, "and Mitski. Of course you like Mitski." You huffed at her words, nearing her. "What's that supposed to mean?" Gwen makes an incomprehensible noise and shrugged her shoulders. "I don’t know, like, you're, emo?" You choked out a laugh, eyes widening at her explanation. "What?" You breathed out, still laughing. Gwen joins in with a giggle as she tries to reason.

"I've never seen you in anything but black, I mean except right now." She gesturesnto your teal shirt. "Also, having a Mitski vinyl is already one of the requirements, I think."

"Anddd, Radiohead? You're a cliche."

You scoffed, pulling her away from your vinyl player towards the door. "You would know." Gwen gasps loudly. "What is that supposed to mean?" You only smile while pushing her to kitchen with your arms around her waist, holding her from behind.

The smell of eggs fill your nostrils when you entered the kitchen, untangling your hands from Gwen, you swore under your breath before sprinting to your brother, cracking eggs on the pan. "I told you to get the eggs out only." Pulling him away from the pan, you tell him to take a seat while you handle the eggs.

"I've seen you do it, I know how to make them myself." He mumbles. "I can hear you." You voice out. "Elephant" He tries again. You gave him a glance, frowning. "I heard that too?" "Good." He responds.

Hearing Gwen chuckling quietly, you spare her a glare too. "Just like I said, already teaming up."

Your brother hops off his seat after a long minute staring at Gwen from the fisheyed view his glass of water gave, Making her eyes look ten times bigger than they are.

"My sister says you're her buddy." He says it like it's a question. Gwen raises a brow at him. "Did she? I don't know, I think we're a little bit more than buddies." You tense, turning around to glare at her again. "Gwen-" you called out in a warning tone.

"You're best buddies?" Your brother's voice speaks before shw could. "Oh my god." You groaned to yourself. Gwen actually laughs at that. "Yeah, something like that." He analyses her answer until he decided it was good enough. "Okay, she's never had any friends before." This time you actually spin around towards them.

"Dude." You chastised him. "I have friends, you've met them!" You defended yourself as he starts to giggle loudly at your offended state. "No you don't." He affirms, making you stick out your tongue at him before placing the plates of breakfast on the table.

"Don't worry little dude, I can tell." Gwen tells him, the both of them giving you a top from bottom look.

"One more word and I'm throwing both of you out." Your brother has the decency to look scared before digging into his meal, but Gwen only grins at you widely before winking. She also notices how much your brother likes to kick people's feet under the table and then immediately blaming someone else when you scold him. "Your buddy did it! My feet can't even reach you!" He yelled. "Yes it can, I can literally feel your tiny toes right now, don't make me kick you back." You threatened, earning another kick before he seriously stops.

Once everyone has finished eating, you went straight to do the dishes, profusely refusing any help from Gwen, enjoying the bits of control in your life you feel whenever you're cleaning up things.

"Can I show Gwen my spidergirl collection?" Your brother begged. You fight againts a grin, saying yes to him.

Despite keeping a very strict no contact rules you had for authoritative figures and the press, your New York has still found a way to capitalize off of you, which was the Spidergirl Dolls that came with many different stylesnof clothing fron the same theme of your suit.

Gwen gives you a smile and a thumbs up before following him, his voice echoing from the hall as he explains the difference of the dolls. "-and this other doll has a samurai sword too-", you shook your head.

How the hell did they even came up with these concepts?

Finishing off the last few dishes, you make your way to the hall, where both of your favourite people are sitting crossed legged on the flower patterned carpet.

"What's up here?" You ask him as you crouch down to sit.

"The sky." He jokes. "Funny." You respond dryly. Gwen gives you a look that says 'I wonder where he gets it from', making you toss a doll at her that she catches easily, smiling.

Gwen turns to your brother, holding up a caped spidergirl doll. "How much are these anyways, where im from, these kind of figurines are expensive." He looka at her dumbly and shrugged. "Figyu-?" She ruffled his hair, "Never mind."

Moving to sit closer to her, you explain the pricing. "If you buy directly from the store, they definitely cost like a $100 or more, unfortunately I don't think even the real spidergirl would've been give a discount." You explain, hinting that your brother has no idea about your secret identity.

Gwen snorted at your last sentence. "Foul, so what, you bought fake ones?" You slapped a hand across your chest, feigning hurt. "No, excuse you, I bought them second hand. You have no idea how many people there are online, giving up good quality figurines for less than $50." Gwen responds with a knowing 'ahh' while nodding her head. "That makes sense."

"Most of these were bought for his birthday, though I think this year he'd like something else, hm?" You question from his side, wiggling your brows.

"I want a Transformers." He answers simply. "A trans what?" Gwen exclaims, confused.

You smiled at her face expression that was similar to a terrified cat, eyes widening in a bewildered manner. "A Transformers." You repeat aloud. "It's a car robot, like its a car that turns into a giant robot." You were describing it horrendously, but it got the job done. "I don't think we have that in my place." Gwen justifies her reaction. "Are you from loser planet?" Your brother asks, receiving stutters from a baffled Gwen and a embarrassingly loud giggle from you.

"I'm from a very normal and cool place alright." You share a look with your brother, side eyeing her. "I saw that." She calls out. "No you didn't!" He yells out all of the sudden before getting up and running to his room.

You flinch at his movements and shouted loudly, "Where are you going?" After a few seconds of loud breathing and feet stomping, he finally responds. "Im showing her our Transformers CDs!"

"Oh." You exhange a look with Gwen. "Looks like you're in for a ride, feeling alright for a movie?" She looks suprised but accepts the offer easily. "Bring in the trans cars."

---

The little boy lasted two hours before passing out. His head on Gwen's lap triggered a slight jealousy in you. Although knowing that he will grow up and eventually meet new people he'd be fond of more than you, it was still jarring to see it play out right in front of your eyes.

You reach your arms out gently to him, "Let me take him to bed." You whisper to Gwen who only responds with an okay.

He's deep into slumber as you carry him into his room and gently place him onto his bed. After fluffing out his pillow, you let go of your palms holding on his head, letting it gently fall onto the soft material.

Gwen's footsteps are quiet behind you, the small sound of the creaking door tells you she's there.

Getting back up on your feet aftet tucking your brother in, you spin around to the curious girl who's eyes are roaming his walls. "Did he draw this?" She giggled, pointing at a drawing you made. "I love him but this literally looks like a deformed Mickey Mouse."

She glaces to you in hope of sharing a laugh but immediately turns quiet when she notices your frown. "That's mine you dipshit." You snapped and walked over to flick her forehead.

"Ouch, sorry." She apologizes in a groan. "It does look like a deform-" you shove her out of the room before closing the door behind you.

"It is not a rat, its a bear." She grins at your pouting face. "Whatever you say."

You thought she'd be opening a portal back to her universe by now. How is her father now worried? Does he not see what's he's been gifted with?

It was visibly dark outside, the clock barely striking 10pm yet. You'd spent the whole night yesterday with eachother, and the whole day too, binging Transformers movies. If it were you in her shoes, with someone else that wasn't her, you would've left much earlier, the tiring efforts of socialising was usually worst than any weekly villain.

She stops walking when she realizes you've halted in your steps behind her. Her head tilts to look at you. "What's wrong? You don't want to sleep?" She asks.

You open your mouth to speak, but nothing leaves your lips. Gwen's face contorts anxiously as she turns around towards you. "What's wrong?" She asks again. You force yourself to talk. "I want to sleep." Silence fills the space between you and her for a solid minute. "So do I." Gwen finally decides to say cautiously.

Your shoulders drops, letting your strained body and features relax. "Yeah, okay. Let's sleep." Gwen is cut off before she coukd even start as you continue where your words left off by intertwining your fingers with hers and leading the way to your bed. She says nothing about your behaviour after, accepting your returning affections. "If you wanted to makeout instead, just say that." She jokes earning a tired chuckle. "After that long ass movie? No, I'm wrecked."

[sunshine-for-serotonin]

Self indulgent Nsfw Erik Destler Post!!

Based on my headcannons

Tags(warnings????):French, stalking, Yandere Erik, clothes stealing, dacryphillia, male masturbation, desperate Erik, light overstim, light edging, Erik really needs you to fuck him senseless, modern!reader ended up in 1800s France through magic means

It truthfully hadn’t been a slow thing, Erik thought. You had shown up so suddenly through a portal in the middle of an opera practice giving everyone a fright. Many people were quick to accuse the opera ghost of trickery, however thankfully you were able to convince the managers of your innocence, and were offered to stay as long as you helped around on set. Rather unfortunately for you though, Erik had taken a special interest in you. Christine long forgotten, Erik watched how you interacted with everyone and noted just how kind and ethereal you were, and soon enough, him watching you interact with others turned into watching you during his every waking moment.

Eventually after some more stalking, Erik decides he is ready to let you meet him. Upon leaving a rabbit trail of notes detailing you on how to make your way below the opera populair, you find him standing in front of his boat, almost nervous in stature. After brief introductions you decided to talk more in-depth with the famous opera ghost, and you found yourself growing fond of him, even setting up times to visit the masked man of your own accord! As for Erik, he seemed to spiral down the rabbit hole of love faster than he ever had before. Images of you embracing him, or the two of you kissing and experiencing other romantic moments plagued him in his sleep, and when you hugged him for the first time, he officially passed the point of no return.

It started off with small things at first, taking items like hair ties, strands from your hairbrush, and even your soaps, things that you could easily brush off as simply being misplaced. Eventually though, Erik began to take larger things, like your favorite night gown, your bras, and even your favorite pair of lacey underwear. Of course you had your suspicions about Erik, but that all slipped to the back of your mind as the month of the crews biggest opera was upon you, leading Erik to where he was now.

Truly he didn’t mean to catch you while you were dressing, it was simply an accident! But here he was in your closet, the place he was just about to exit to see you before he became fully aware of the sight in front of him. Erik bit down on misshapen lip hard, hands hovering over his pants, desperate to ground himself before he lost his composure and made a mess in your closet at the sight of your bare visage. Quickly turning on his heel Erik moved the false wall that lead to his underground abode, walking as fast as he physically could without breaking into a dead sprint. Heavy pants left Erik’s mouth as he made it to his sleeping quarters, and he was sure his face was a brilliant rouge hue as he removed his mask and wig. Wasting no time Erik got on his knees and opened the top drawer from underneath his vanities mirror, pulling out a pair of your dirty lingerie and what he believed he remembered you calling a ‘hoodie’. Quickly yet gently, he placed the clothing articles onto his sheets as he stripped himself bare and clambered back onto his bed. Rolling over to the side, Erik quickly snatched up one of your pillows he stole as well as your lingerie. Eriks body was practically in up in flames as he let his fantasies take over; your body positioned above his hips as you lowered your top half to kiss him passionately, the way your pussy would rub up the length of his cock to tease him as you smiled into the kiss. Eriks neck was just waiting for you to mark him up, he thought to himself, for your lips to suck on his skin and your teeth to play with him as you saw fit. Deciding he needed to be completely surrounded by the closest thing he could get to the real you, Erik hastily shoved your stolen hoodie over his gangly body as he had seen you do so many times before.

Grasping at your lacy underwear and raising the article to his mouth and nose, Erik took several deep inhales while his free hand roamed over pale flesh, massaging circles into his hips as they jutted into the air uncontrollably and his back arched, desperate for your soft touches. He wanted you so, so badly, wanted your hands all over his body and your lips on his as he made you feel good in anyway you wanted. Low and high pitched moans alike spilled from Eriks mouth as he began to lick and suck on the fabric of your underwear, wishing it was you he was mouthing at. Closing his eyes Erik imagined you there with him in that moment, cooing at him and calling him a good boy for eating you out so good, the way your thighs would wrap around his head and squeeze as he pushed you over the edge, how absolutely delicious you would taste as Erik pushed his tongue as deep as he could inside of you to desperately drink down your orgasm while you lovingly caressed his face. Eventually his free hand began to palm at his erection roughly causing his moans to increase as beads of precum dripped down his cock onto his stomach and the hem of your hoodie. Desperate cries of your name spilled from Eriks deformed mouth as he brought himself to the edge, teasing and tugging at his cocks head just like he imagined you would, only to pull back abruptly, practically mewling at the loss of touch. “ Mon a-ange, I need more! Please, please, p-please, oh- it feels so good, I-I feel so good! Please touch me more, please!” At those words Erik scrambled to grab at your pillow before pulling it as tight as he could to his body, his cock snuggly positioned in between his stomach and the satin case. Letting out needy whimpers and whines, Erik began to grind against your pillow rapidly while your name fell from his lips like a prayer. Images of you on top of him sent Erik’s mind absolutely reeling, he could practically taste your lips on his and feel the way you would clench around him as you reached your own climax. “Please, I-I-I- hmnnh- I’ll b-be, ahh- I’ll be so good for you, mmm-!!” No sooner had those words left Eriks mouth, Erik orgasmed hard as tears gathered in the corners of his eyes. “ Merci! Merci, mon cheri! Please keep going! I feel so good, I feel so good!! Je t’aime, je t’aime, j-je t-t’aime!!!” Erik couldn’t help himself as his speech slurred and stuttered with the overwhelming amount of pleasure assaulting his senses, and yet all he did was hold your pillow tighter and grind even faster as teardrops fell from his glassy eyes. He wanted you here with him right now! Wanted you to use him for your pleasure and tell him he was doing so good for you! Erik needed you to kiss him till he was breathless and fuck him dumb, marking him with your lips all over his body! He needed you to tell him in between moans how much you loved him, how he belonged only to you, and that you would never leave him for anything! “Im yours!! Im all yours, mon ange!!! Please orgasm for me please, please, please!!!! Use me, tell me I’m yours, mon ange please!!!” More tears slipped down Erik’s face as his eyes rolled into the back of his head, and with a final broken high pitched moan Eriks hips stuttered as cum once again splattered onto your pillow and his lower abdomen. After a few seconds of calming down Erik rolled to his side and grabbed a fresh pillow, and gently maneuvered your hoodie from his body onto it with the grace of someone handling a priceless artifact. “Je t’aime, mon amour. I hope that someday this will be real….. je t’aime.” Erik kissed the pillow that was wrapped in both your hoodie and his arms before finally drifting off to sleep with a smile on his face and you in his dreams.