#and the three ghost kid menaces

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC John Constantine's How To: Ghost Kids (pt.2)

[<- part 1]

"Oh, yeah," John jerks his head up like he just remembered the fact people are supposed to have names at all. He gestures to the kids, pointing to each of them as he introduces, "Daniel, Daniel, and Danielle."

This time, all three kids flip him off simultaneously. Bruce clears his throat, trying to figure out if Constantine is messing with him and, if so, in which parts. Since, so far, everything the man has said sounds like a poor attempt at pulling his leg.

"I don't think they like those," he cautiously says, and the kids whip their heads at him, nodding furiously. Bruce can't help but be just a little enamored with the way they behave.

"Of, sod off, at this point I don't care what they like," John straightens up with a dismissive, albeit weak, wave of his hands, and rubs his face, "They are menaces. Sometimes by accident, but mostly on purpose. Their grandfather thought it would be easier to handle them if they were not teenagers, and while I agreed with his reasoning at the time, I-" he glances at the kids, who all have displeased grimaces of various levels on their faces, "I have been made to reconsider. I swear that ancient bitch is laughing his ass off wherever he is now."

The kids suddenly grin. They are not very friendly, nor polite smiles - if anything, they look a bit nightmarish. An old grandfather's clock in his study makes a very loud ticking noise.

"See?" John whips his head to look at said clock, the expression on his face bordering on insane. His eye twitches.

If Bruce doesn't do anything now, he might become one of the very few people who managed to witness John Constantine, the Laughing Magician, have a meltdown. So he sighs and decides to solve the problems one at a time.

Which means that no matter how alarmed or suspicious he is, his first move would not be to interrogate either the man or the kids.

"You can sleep in one of the guest rooms, I trust you can find it on your own," he tells John, almost softly, as he catches the girl from slipping away from his lap, "Is there anything I need to know about children before you fall unconscious?"

John slumps with relief, so obviously that Bruce almost smiles. Hardships of raising - or, watching, for that matter - kids, he understands.

"Yes," he breathes out with an air of exhilaration and turns to the kids again, pointing to the middle child, "Danny is the original. He is from this dimension and timeline, that is. Dan," he turns his finger to the older boy, "is in the wrong timeline, he's Danny's future evil self redeemed into older bratty brother. Dani," he switches to the girl, "is Danny's clone, made by his arch-nemesis of a godfather. If she starts melting at any point, wake me up immediately. If any of them start floating, sprouting tentacles, speaking to walls in static, or glowing, don't."

Bruce looks down to the kids. So, definitely metas, that would explain the government trying to get them... Or, no, it wouldn't because he is fairly certain no government is going to blatantly ignore the Meta Protection Acts.

"Don't let them raise the dead, and if you give them food, make sure it doesn't have a face. If you find more than three of them, it means one of them has duplicated, don't worry, they will absorb it back later. Absolutely don't let them touch any guns," Constantine is backing down to the door as he speaks, his gaze flickering from the kids to Bruce and back every second. Like he is leaving a ticking bomb in Bruce's lap, and not three children. "Danny is, comparatively, the most responsible one, the other two are up for any dubious trouble they can get to at any moment. Oh, and their memories are wonky because of de-aging, they remember some things but not others, so if they say something particularly disturbing, it's most likely some random piece of knowledge they managed to keep."

Bruce raises an eyebrow. He did get the part about the kids being, well, abnormal in the matters of their origins, but the disjointed set of rules and advices doesn't help as much as Constantine probably thinks it does.

"Allergies, preferences, ages they were before?" He tries to get at least some more info down before John disappears through the door. Actually, maybe he should send someone to handcuff the man to the bed lest he disappears completely.

"None, but don't let them eat cutlery. Danny likes space, Dani has a thing for exploring, and Dan likes violence." The older kid stirs in Bruce's lap and says something in the direction of Constantine. No sound comes out, but the man seems to get what he's trying to say anyway, "Okay, yes, that was rude of me, sorry. Dan likes... exercise," he ends up with, and that placate the boy enough to slump down and cross his arms. John sighs, "They were seventeen, fourteen, and twenty respectively. Now," he snaps his fingers, and suddenly Bruce can hear the girl - Dani - humming a tune under her breath. So, he lifted the silence spell, it seems.

"Good fucking luck," John wishes to Bruce, earnestly, and all but vanishes away.

Bruce sighs and looks down to the kids.

"Are you hungry?" He tries, and all eyes are on him at once, attentive and unblinking.

"Fruitloops," Danny says, and while Bruce is positive that's the name for a cereal, he gets a feeling that's not what the kid meant.

[zweiginator]

i need something about patrick ripping your panties and fucking you against the wall idk i just need it

*reader calls patrick daddy in this so be warned if that's not ur thing

i’m imagining patrick really really liking you. he’s used to fucking girls on the first date. spitting in their mouths and calling them sluts with his hand wrapped around their jaws.

but he really likes you!!! it scares him that he’s dreamt of proposing to you. buying a cute house and having two or three kids with you.

you’ve only been dating for a few months. and everything has been going well. but patrick has been holding back sexually. he doesn’t want to scare you away, doesn’t want to go too hard and have you feeling like he doesn’t respect you.

but you’re kind of unsatisfied.

of course, he’s great in bed. and sometimes, the slow, loving, deep sex is great. but sometimes you want him to fuck you. and you don’t know if you’re being selfish but is this even going to work out if you don’t see eye to eye sexually?

it’s odd because you have heard things about patrick. he oozes sex appeal and cockiness and you assumed that would translate to the bedroom. maybe those girls were just exceptionally vanilla. or maybe they exaggerated. hell, maybe they never fucked patrick in the first place.

you’re talking with your friends at one of patrick’s matches. it’s about to start, so you assume he’s doing drills. maybe listening to a playlist to pump himself up.

“he’s just—soft.” you tell them, lowly.

“what do you mean?” one of your friends asks.

“like—he’s good at sex but it’s just—kind of boring. that sounds really mean but i thought he would be a little more rough sometimes.”

your friends are surprised. they share the same assumptions about your boyfriend.

patrick is under the bleachers, sneaking a cigarette and hears all of it.

he plays exceptionally well. doesn’t miss a serve, uses all the tricks in the book and wins easily. it barely looks like he broke a sweat the whole time.

and he’s quiet on the way home. taps his fingers against the steering wheel and fuck—did he hear you?

“pat, what’s up? are you okay?” your trepidation is palpable to him.

“‘m fine. just didn’t realize i was such a boring fuck for you, is all.”

so he did.

“patrick i—im sorry. i didn’t mean that you’re boring i dunno. i just had assumptions.”

“assumptions about what?”

“come on, i know im not your first. i’ve heard things.” you reply.

he puts the car in park. tilts your chin up so you have to look him in the eye. they’re stern. it makes him look older.

“if you want something—you have to be a big girl and ask.”

and then he drops you off. you assumed you were spending the night at his house, but you get out of the car anyway, unsure of where you stand with him.

is he mad at you? did you irreparably fuck up this relationship that is otherwise perfect?

and for the next few days, patrick is busier than usual. you know he’s faking it. he doesn’t pick up your calls and he barely texts you.

you’ve been crying all day. so you drive to his house and ring his doorbell. you feel so small and stupid and like you ruined the one good precious thing left in the world.

patrick answers; he hates to see you cry. and he knows he’s been an asshole.

“come inside, sweetheart. i won't bite.” but the way he says it is menacing, facetious.

so you do. you’re confused when he spins you around, pushes you against the wall by the front door. you feel your heartbeat against it; the mirror hung next to you wobbles and you’re afraid it might fall.

patrick’s lips ghost over the nape of your neck, latch under your ear. the mini skirt you're wearing is hiked up from how patrick spreads your legs, his knee propped perfectly in between.

he sees your pretty panties. wonders if you wore them on purpose. to give your pussy to him as a peace offering. but patrick isn't in the mood to be given anything. he wants to take, take, take. so he does.

he palms your ass, ignoring your pleads for a kiss. you're so confused and lightheaded and turned on. patrick has never acted like this. but it feels not like he is leaving his comfort zone, no, instead he's entering it.

because it feels natural how he spanks you, yanks your hair back, groans in your ear. feels your wet cunt through your panties and calls you a slut for liking this.

you feel like one.

patrick's biceps bulge as he presses his cock against you, forearms braced on either side of your head.

"i can fuck you. make you feel like a slut." patrick flips your skirt up completely. "just gotta ask me, sweet girl."

you nod. and you don't know where it comes from but you mutter, "yes sir."

"fuck." he mutters. it's a groan in your ear. "you like when im in charge of you? when i use your little pussy?"

you grind your ass against his cock, almost unaware you're doing it. you're so fucking desperate for him. but he's punishing you. for talking behind his back. for not using your words.

he yanks your hair back, forming a makeshift ponytail. "answer me."

"yes--yes please. use my pussy. it's all yours."

"i know it is." he tears your panties off. you don't know how he does it. and maybe you underestimated his strength before this moment--but you'll never do it again. he restricts your movement easily. and the weight of his chest against your back, his breath in your ear should feel suffocating. but you fucking love it, how he overpowers you like this.

the baby pink lace is torn into two on the ground beneath your feet as patrick fucks into you from behind, his hands holding your waist so tight you won't be surprised if there are fingertip shaped bruises there the next day.

"oh baby, i'm stretching you out. feel how deep i am? you're squeezing me so tight.." it almost feels like he's mocking you.

it's a complete 180 from the usual coos and sweet nothings.

the carnal, guttural moans he is letting out are fully him and you love it.

so you lean into it. "fuck me--daddy fuck me. this pussy is all yours--take it."

one hand snakes up your body as he pulls you against his chest. they run over your tits and up to your throat. his abdomen is soaked in sweat and he pushes against your jugular.

"who knew you were such a dirty fucking girl--gonna make me cum."

and usually he would pull out and aim on your ass or stomach, but you keep him inside. look him in the eye when he fills you up. and for the duration of his orgasm as you hold his forehead to yours, you're in charge.

[chaoticallyfluffy]

Introduction + My Shazam Masterlist!

Welcome to my blog! My name is Fluffy!

I am an artist and fan fiction writer who mostly focuses on one fandom at a time. My current obsession is Shazam!

My second blog is @fawcetttweets where I post Tweets from the DC universe, focusing on the daily lives of Fawcett City’s heroes and civilians!

My banner was created by @chocolatebriosh during art fight! The characters are my OCs :)

You can find me on TikTok and Ao3 with the username ChaoticallyFluffy or by using the links!

I tried my best to make it chronological with the oldest on top and the newest on the bottom, so if my early stuff sucks, feel free to skip to the bottom of each section!

In order I have my ficlets, fan art, animatics, and misc (mostly add-ons to other posts or tiny ideas that are too short to put into ficlets)!

The characters involved in the posts will be next to each link! Billy and Captain Marvel will just be called Billy unless they are specifically separate beings in the post.

Masterlist begins under the cut :)

Where'd he go? (Billy, JL)

Curses! (Billy, Mr. Mind, JL)

Identical (Billy, Mary, JL)

Whats in a Last Name? (Billy, JL, Batfam)

Billy Being a Menace (Billy, Bruce Wayne)

Lies and Half Truths (Billy, Danny Phantom, JL)

Ah, a Child (Billy, JL)

Power of Perception (Billy, JL)

Doomed by the Narrative + Wrong Place, Wrong Time (Billy, JL)

The Homeless Boy and Nepo Baby (Billy, Bruce Wayne)

Two Halves, Never Whole (Billy, Jason Blood, Marvel, Etigran)

Blissful Ignorance (Billy, JL)

Blunder + Look at this! (Billy, Marvel, Shazamily,

Billy Batfam (Billy, Batfam)

Silly Billy + Pocket Home (Billy, JL, Shazamily)

What are you, a cop? + Now you see me, now you don't (Billy, JL)

Gender Swap! (Billy, Freddy)

Learning to Live (Billy, JL)

Stop Calling Me Dad! (Billy, Shazamily, JL)

Matchmaking (Billy, Diana, Gay animals)

'Tis but a scratch! (Billy, JL)

Tea With Persephone (Billy, Persephone)

Home Alone (Billy, Sivana, Shazamily)

Marvel Licks Cocaine. Wait, wha- (Billy, JL)

Body Swap (Billy, Marvel)

Parent Trap (Billy, Mary, CC, Marilyn)

Serious Accusations (Tawky Tawny, Billy, JL)

Celebrity Lifestyle (JL, Billy)

Warrior Cats (Freddy)

JL as platonic Soulmates (Billy, JL)

Swear Jar (Billy, Shazamily)

Sibling Fights (Freddy, Billy, Mary, Red Robin)

Three Kids in a Trench Coat (Billy, Mary, Freddy, JL)

Clothes (Billy, Mary, CC, Marilyn, JL)

Dead name, literally (Billy, Gay people)

Unicorns! (Billy)

No Longer 2 in 1 (Billy, other)

Magical Garbage Disposal (Billy, superman, batman)

First Shazam Fan Art! Learning to Live outfits (Billy)

False Advertising (Billy)

The Duality of Marvel (Billy, Marvel)

Skill Issue (Freddy, Billy, JL)

Stock Photos (Billy, Marvel, C!Tommyinnit)

It's not you, its him (Billy, a random small child)

Closet Cosplay (Billy, Freddy, kind of Superman and Batman)

Experimental style (Billy)

If your reading this, i still haven't used the stickers. (Billy, Marvel)

*Pats him* *pats him* *pats hi- (Billy)

Whiteboard with friends! (Billy, Mary, Freddy, + more)

Billy Ratson (Billy, Marvel)

Bored (Billy)

Magical Girl Black Adam (Black Adam)

Sunny Sparkles (Sunny)

Ghost Boy! (Billy)

Tiger Bleps! (Tawky Tawny, Billy)

FREDDY!! (Billy, Marvel, Freddy)

Figurine Size Matters (Technically Batman and Billy)

Surprise! (Billy, JL)

Magical Girl?! (Billy, Barry, Poorly Drawn Evil Wizard)

Home (Billy)

Everyone Loves the Boy! (Harley Quinn, Billy)

Nails, nails, nails (Billy, Divine Twitch Chat, JL)

Stop. (Billy)

*Pats him* *pats him* *pats hi- (Billy)

My first Shazam post!

He needs more love :( (Kind of Billy)

Link to 'Kill him with kindness' fic

Asking for Eldritch Ideas (Billy kind of. Interesting comments!)

Zoooom! (Freddy, Billy, Batmans limitless funds)

Happiness (Billy)

Wip game (Billy, Clark)

Chaos boys (Billy, Klarion)

Link to 'Picture Day' fic (Billy, Cissie)

The first idea for Fawcetttweets! (Billy)

Marvel's Adventure! (Billy)

Peak Billy Design (Billy)

MY Boy! (Billy technically)

Talking about my fics release

Venn diagram (Billy, C!Tommyinnit, and Dave Strider)

DND (none technically)

Charlie (Billy, CC, Batman)

WIP Tag Game (Billy, Clark, Barry, Victor, Hal)

Implications (Billy)

Laws (Fawcett)

Link to my fanfiction called 'Bugs' (Billy)

Symptoms (Billy)

Fae (Billy)

Gotta Go Fast (Billy)

Tummy ache :( (Billy)

[ink-n-shadow]

[ GONE BAD ] 𝜗𝜚 the one where you meet mafia!ghost

𝜗𝜚 pairing: mafia!Simon "Ghost" Riley x police officer's daughter!reader 𝜗𝜚 cw: alternative universe, mentions of police, tw! for creepy guy, allusion to dark!ghost (only if you squint) 𝜗𝜚 note: new au, new ideas (don't hesitate to send me requests :3)

⤷ ever since you were a little kid, your dad was a member of the police force in manchester. you were a daddy’s girl through and through. hell, you wanted to be just like him when you were little—catching bad guys and keeping people safe. 

⤷ but something shifted when you were a teenager—and suddenly, the daddy’s good little girl was gone. you were sneaking out, partying with friends, skipping school to go smoke cigarettes underneath the crumbling cobblestone bridge by your secondary school. 

⤷ it only got worse once you graduated and enrolled in university. this time, though, you weren’t under your father’s thumb anymore. you were in your flat, with your own roommates, doing whatever you wanted to do. that’s how you found yourself in some dingy new pub that opened up in the city. 

⤷ you had dipped outside of the pub for a quick cigarette, stepping into a dimly lit alleyway and leaning against the cobbled wall to puff away at the tobacco stick. it was almost peaceful—that was until a group of drunken men stumbled by and one of them took a liking to you. 

⤷ “aye, pretty thing. y’look lonely standing there all by yourself. mind if i join you? take a little puff of that cig?”

⤷ you tried to come up with some sort of excuse, eyes frantically searching for a way out—but the alleyway you were in was a dead end. the lit cigarette fell from your trembling hand, rolling across the wet asphalt. you thought you were goner until you heard an exit door from the pub behind you screech open, a hard voice rumbling like a thunder storm. 

⤷ “what the fuck’s goin’ on out here? you botherin’ this girl, eh? at my fuckin’ pub? get the fuck out of here before i bury you underneath the concrete you're standin' on.”

⤷ you caught your breath as the man harassing you scrambled off quickly, turning your head to see who the gravelly voice belonged to. he was a looming figure, dressed in a steam-pressed three piece suit and tie along with shiny leather oxfords. his fingers were covered in tattoos and rings, his neck adorning two thick silver chains. His face, however, was obscured by a black mask with a slick skull face attached to the front. he looked menacing. the gun holstered to his hip didn’t help. 

⤷ “you didn’t have to—”

⤷ “don’t sit there and tell me you would’ve handled it. that fucker would’ve torn you to bits if i hadn’t stepped in, lovie. too prideful to say thank you?”

⤷ having lived in manchester all your life, having listened to your father’s rants about the organized crime running rampant in the streets, you knew exactly who the man in front of you that night was: ghost, the faceless leader of the organized crime syndicate which ran manchester under an iron fist. you should’ve expected him to be here—this was his pub, after all. 

⤷ you couldn't speak, but that was alright. ghost didn't mind—he was used to people keeping queit about him. that's why he felt so comfortable leaning against the wall of the alleyway, balancing a cigarette between his lips and igniting the paper.

⤷ "next time you're at my pub, make sure you stay with a friend. pretty little things like you have a tendency to get snatched up right quick out here. can't guarantee i'll be here to save you next time, lovie."

⤷ but after that night, ghost seemed to always be there to save the day. your car breaks down on the side of the road during rush hour traffic? ghost's suv just so happens to pull up behind you. you get a little too drunk out at his pub one night? ghost has one of his men drive you and your friends home. you know deep down that it's way past just coincidences now—but that added to the thrill of it, to the taboo nature of it all.

⤷ other than that, ghost might as well have been a figment of your imagination. he never gave you a phone number, never told you an address, never really stuck around much after helping you out time after time. he was almost unreal until he came out from the shadows. it took almost an entire year before ghost finally asked you to get drinks with him.

⤷ "c'mon—you gotta say yes. y'know how rare it is for me to ask a girl for drinks? usually, the girls come crawlin' to me. not you, though. that's what i like about you, lovie."

[sweet-evie]

Head empty... Just having thoughts of an AU centered around Apartment Ghost!Gojo... 👻👻👻 So take my imagines...

✨ masterlist ✨

»» Ghost!Gojo = Casper the Friendly Ghost... It doesn't stop him from being a fucking menace day in and day out though.

»» Ghost!Gojo has been dead and buried for 6 months.

»» Ghost!Gojo haunts an apartment occupied by a single mom with two kids: one elementary kid and a toddler.

»» Imagine how fucking creepy and unsettling it is to find your toddler talking to empty air, and when you ask them, they look back at you with big innocent eyes and that big cheeky grin, and they start babbling about their "imaginary friend".

»» Creepy, but the mom dismisses it at first, chalking it up to childish imagination running wild, but when the older sibling casually asks about a tall white-haired man hanging around the apartment living room at dinner, Mom is starting to get concerned. Couple this with the fact that her toddler is giggling at odd hours during the night, while the room is empty. 

»» Eventually, Ghost!Gojo makes his presence known to the mom... And he's all smiles and being his usual goofy self while he's waving -- as if it isn't unsettling to have a dead fucking person hanging out in your home.

»» It took a while, but I like to think, the mom warms up to Ghost!Gojo being around after a couple of months. He doesn't show himself frequently to Mom because he freaks her out, but it doesn't stop Ghost!Gojo from being her toddler's playmate and her older kid's study buddy.

»» As time passed, they got so comfortable living with the ghost that mom and her kids forget that Ghost!Gojo is not actually alive and he doesn't show himself to other people, except for them.

»» After they get so used to him and comfortable with him being around, think of Ghost!Gojo as a very very friendly and chaotic poltergeist. He doesn't destroy things (at least when he does, he doesn't mean to). He's very nice... He just does annoying shit. For instance...

»» Ghost!Gojo likes to dig around the kitchen cupboards for candy and leaves the doors open just to annoy the older sibling and leave the mom exasperated. They leave out a bowl of candy for him in the living room after that, hoping it would discourage his behavior, but nope... It's still Gojo, and he does what he wants.

»» Ghost!Gojo also pranks the mom and moves things around in the kitchen to confuse her. The first time he did it, she got scared. A few more times, she got so annoyed. But after like the umpteenth time, the mom just rolls her eyes, like, "Haha, very funny, Satoru! I'm getting stuff from the laundry room, and this kitchen better be sorted when I get back."

»» Mom has definitely threatened to call 'ghostbusters' on Satoru's ass multiple times, and Gojo thinks it's hilarious. She never actually does anything to drive him away. To be honest, she quite likes the fact that her kids have a babysitter when she has to work late... Even if said babysitter is a wandering spirit.

»» On that note, Ghost!Gojo takes his babysitting duties seriously, and proclaims himself the best babysitter ever!

»» Ghost!Gojo does all the typical things people do to entertain toddlers. He talks to her toddler, entertains them, makes them laugh, tickles them, slips candies in their lap, picks up toys and disappears from view to give the toddler a fun puppet show -- with all the floating toys and shit.

»» The older sibling actually saw him doing this one time when they slipped into their younger sibling's room, and they just had to laugh, because who would have thought their family of three would be lucky enough to move into an apartment haunted by a very friendly ghost.

»» Ghost!Gojo helps mom cook sometimes, fetching her ingredients from the pantry and stuff. If a normal person were in that kitchen, all they would see are floating ingredients. It's enough to give anyone a heart attack, but for mom and her 2 kids, it's just Satoru.

»» One time, the older sibling invited their friends over and one of their friends got the idea to play with a Ouija board after the older sibling joked about the apartment being haunted.

»» They play with the ouija board, and Satoru plays into it for fun. Pre-teen kid's friends are terrified, but the pre-teen kid is amused as hell, because they know it's just Gojo.

»» When the friends go home, they tell the pre-teen kid about how much fun they had, and pre-teen kid thanks Ghost!Gojo for being kind enough to play along.

»» Ghost!Gojo has a habit of collecting coins.

»» Ghost!Gojo has never actually tried leaving the confines of the apartment before, but the pre-teen kid asks and they actually figure it out together.

»» They had so much fun doing it too... Ghost!Gojo figures out a way to possess random objects so the pre-teen kid can take him anywhere.

»» That being said, Ghost!Gojo has possessed the most ridiculous things. Think Ghost!Gojo possessing laundry detergent, the coffee table, the toilet paper, etc. He possessed the oven once and it broke, and the mom got so mad, so Ghost!Gojo steers clear of possessing electronic devices from then on.

»» Ghost!Gojo helps the kids surprise their mom during holidays... e.g., Mother's Day, Christmas, etc. For obvious reason, the family starts loving Halloween, because Ghost!Gojo loves it so much.

»» The toddler starts calling Ghost!Gojo 'Papa'.

»» It warms moms heart and hurts her at the same time. 

»» Because Satoru Gojo would have made a wonderful father.

»» Ghost!Gojo sometimes wishes he was still alive so he could court mom properly...

»» And since he can't do anything about the fact that he's dead (a ghost for practically one year now), all he can do now is watch over them and make them as happy as possible...

»» Ghost!Gojo promises to stay for as long as he can, for as long as he is permitted.

»» Ghost!Gojo gets to see the kids grow up, move out, and he gets to see mom grow old too...

»» It breaks his heart to watch the people he's grown to care about grow old, while he stays frozen in time, haunting this little apartment forever.

»» Eventually, mom had to say 'goodbye', deciding she wanted to move to the countryside. It wasn't an easy decision...

»» The kids, now adults, return to their childhood apartment to help mom move away, and although Ghost!Gojo rarely shows himself these days, he appears one last time.

»» Unsurprisingly, leaving the place behind is hard. Every time they look back on their childhood, it's undeniably brighter and more colorful, and it's all because of the beloved ghost who made their lives so much brighter because of his presence.

»» Ghost!Gojo was their 'Dad,' 'Older Brother', 'Fun Uncle', and 'Annoying Roommate'. He's worn so many hats as the kids grew up.

»» Satoru doesn't stop them from moving away, only thanking them for showing him what it would have been like for him if he had been lucky enough to grow old with kids of his own. He never had that in his life, but he's glad that he got to have that even after he'd died.

»» He doesn't know how long he's sentenced to wander the earthly plains, but he promises to see them around.

»» The younger sibling actually cries and wishes that he was their dad for real.

»» The mom, now old but still sweet and kind, thanks Ghost!Gojo for being part of their family.

It was goodbye...

Gojo: I'm sad and forever bound to an apartment building.

Also Gojo: I will terrorize the next dweller if they're a dick.

The next occupant is an asshole who cheats on his significant other... Ghost!Gojo is making their life hell.

I kind of want to write a fic about this now 🥴

[callofdudes]

141 + Rodolfo & Laswell general headcanons

Before he was Ghost (and still sometimes after) he was the guy you'd go to if you had a rip in something or wanted something stitched/embroidered.

His brother was the type to bully him like he did, but if anyone outside the home tried to hurt Simon Tommy would beat them.

Had a schedule where he was to be home straight after school but would sometimes get to go dirt bike riding with Tommy.

Was a prime bullies target because he was very small before his growth spurts. And after said growth spurt has a lot of stretch marks around most of his muscle area.

Is the favorite child of Laswell.

Loves squishmellows, has many.

Will eat Thrills gum just to spite everyone even though it tastes like dish soap and he hates it.

Brings all Gossip to Gaz first.

Because of trauma and stress Simon gets constant migraines and everyone knows to avoid him because he gets insanely cranky.

Knows spanish from how long he was kept in mexico.

Used to play those computer games where you had to input the command of what you wanted the simulation to do.

Doesn't like VR. It's cool but he gets motion sick inside.

Huge mama's boy.

Had braces when he was younger but it didn't stop him from showing off his amazing smile.

Used to bug his older sisters with nerd guns.

I like the idea of Johnny being the youngest chaos gremlin but being the middle child also works for him. (Of two or three sisters)

His parents let him be in football because he was a very smart kid. Topping his science and math classes and becoming valedictorian of his class.

He thinks he's the favorite child of Laswell.

Gets scared when Simon tells him about pixel command prompt games.

While his sisters were watching Frozen he was dealing with the weird crush he had on the king.

Steals pick up lines from Kyle.

Doesn't voice his achievements a whole lot because he wasn't enough for his dad when he was younger no matter what he did. Which has led to his snarky form of confidence and Rizz.

Even older people with take credit for his work and he will fight.

Was 100% a theatre kid.

And an only child.

Is scared to come out even to people close to him after what happened when his platoon mates first found out and wouldn't let it go.

Also thinks he's the favorite child.

Almost got his eyebrow pierced once.

Started to learn what a good father should be because of Price.

Brings all gossip to Ghost first.

Massive people watcher. People credit Ghost for his people watching but it just gives Kyle more opportunity to also people watch.

Has a mentor/big brother little brother relationship with Ghost and they're actually very close.

Used to be a menace when he was younger, and to be fair he still is.

Can't have kids because his balls don't work very well 😅

He was in history in school and was also very good at math.

The Duolingo bird hates him for some reason so he's taken to learning languages from interrogations, now knows 7 languages.

Is Nikolai's permanent backup plan if some shit goes down in Russia and has gotten used to waking up with the man asleep on his couch.

Attracts girls looking for older rich men and it pains him to tell them he is not old, nor is he rich.

Had a strict Military dad who currently still works for the military as a higher rank than him and they do not have a good relationship.

Spends most of her leave time up in the mountains camping. She loves being out in nature.

Has older brothers who are really into rock climbing so she'll accompany them and their friends for rock climbing and camping when she can.

Simon is the favorite child.

Everyone thinks she's married to Price but she'd actually scold him like a child half the day and encourage his antics like a good friend for the rest.

Was in the history and chest club.

Keeps gifting Simon his squishmellows.

Mother to all her 141 children.

Brings her wife to base and Johnny had taken to calling them the "moms".

Will bully people for 141.

Have you ever seen the crazy taser girl?? Yeah, that's him. He has many tasers and he loves them all.

He's actually crazy.

Very capable of yelling and defending himself but Alejandro has bestie senses and usually beats him to whoever did it.

Rudy is quiet but don't bark at him because he barks back.

Alejandro and Rudy used to skip school and go hang out on the cliffs they now trek for military.

His father made a joke once that he was going to get milk and Rudy never recovered mentally.

(and then he left for real-)

He was in photography and sports team manager in school.

After checking out each other's turf, Simon and Rudy are now chronically insane besties.

(had this in my drafts for a while, decided to post because I'm bored.)

[alexa-fika]

Subheaders by @firefly-graphics

Dividers by @/animatedglittergraphics-n-more

Kitchen Menace (Thatch x child!Reader x Marco)

Hungry for truth(yandere!Thatch x Reader) Inspired and written by/with @quinloki and 💧 anon

Fists for Family (Rayleigh x child!Reader x Shakky)

Special Treasure (Rayleigh x child!reader x Shakky)

Embracing Feelings and Family (Rayleigh x winged!child!reader)

Tree Escapades (Rayleigh x child!reader x Shakky)

Adventures in the past ( Roger pirates x child!reader)

Midnight Lessons (Mihawk x child!reader)

Papa to the Rescue (Mihawk x child!reader)

Teasing Distractions (Mihawk x child!reader)

Picky Eaters, Tricky Givers ( Mihawk x sick!child!reader)

Baby Feathers (Mihawk x winged!child!reader)

Failed Takeoffs (Mihawk x winged!child!reader)

Tough Swordplay (Mihawk x Winged!Child!reader)

New Begginings (Mihawk x Winged!Child!reader!), Part Two~

Escape, Friend, Return (Mihawk x Winged!child!reader x Zoro, Sanji)

Fruitless Negotiations ( Mihawk x blind!child! Reader)

Baking Fails (Mihawk x winged!child!reader)

Repercussion Stance (Mihawk x child!reader)

Sandy Bonding (Crocodile x Dracule!child!reader)

Circus Escapade (Cross guild x Dracule!child!reader)

Ghastly Cuteness (Perona x child!reader)

Clumsy Ghostly Guardians (Law x child!reader)

Breaking the Cycle (Law x child!reader)

Lost again? ( Heart pirates x child!Dracule!reader)

Thiefs in the making (Chopper x child!reader x Nami ft Sanji)

Unexpected Visit, Unexpected Family (Ace x child!reader x Luffy)

Sleeping Techniques (Shanks x child!reader x Beckman)

Wandering Dragon (Whitebeard pirates x dragon!reader x Revolutionary army) Part 2

His One-Piece (Whitebeard pirates x reader)

Stolen Help ( Whitebeard pirates x child!reader)

Parties and falls ( Whitebeard pirates x child!reader)

Claws out (Whitebeard pirates x Cat!Reader)

Stuffy Meetings (Whitebeard pirates x child!reader)

Puppy Love ( Shanks x child!reader x Whitebward pirates)

Enemies Yesterday, Babysitters Today (Whitebeard pirates x Dracule!winged!child!reader)

Lost Birds ( Red Haired Pirates x Dracule!child!reader)

Monkey Sitters (Dracule!child!reader)

The tale of Cats and Birds ( Zoro x reader)

Secretly Lost ( Zoro x child!reader)

Delivery for One (Crocodile x pigeon!reader) , Part two Part three

Rise of the Usurper (Doflamingo x pigeon!reader)

Guide in the Darkness (Smoker x blind!child!reader x Fujitora)

Eyeliner (Eustass kid x sibling!reader)

Killer Timeouts (Eustass Kiddx sibling!reader x Killer)

Soaked Set-up (ASL x sister!reader)

Revenge and Teasings (ASLx sister!reader)

Sickly Cuddles ( ASL x sick!sister!reader x Shanks)

Chiefs and Brothers (Sabo x Sibling!reader)

Lasting Memories ( Shanks x child!reader)

Pest Problems ( Shanks x Mouse!reader x Benn Beckmann)

Bye Family, Hello Family ( Luffy x brother!reader)

Bombs Beware (Ussop x sibling!child!reader)

Instincts or Recklessness (Marco x reader)

Cure for Inflictions ( Marco x Reader)

Chilly Prisoner ( Kuzan x hellhound!reader Part 2

Lost Sight ( Sanji x child!blind!reader)

Ghostly Mishief ( Sanji x ghost!child!reader)

Hunger and solicitude (Brook x ghost!child!reader x Sanji)

Insubordination and Cynophobia (Smoker x Kitsune!Reader)

Lost ways, Found people (Smoker x reader)

Little Gardener's Pirate Odyssey (oc!child x one piece characters platonic)

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3,Chapter 4

Little Stowaway Wanderer (Oc!child x whitebeard pirates)

Chapter 1

Little Stowaway Wanderer (child!Reader x Whitebeard pirates)

Chapter 1

[inthemaelstrom]

So we're about six weeks out from another "most important election of my lifetime" and it's predictably making me literally sick to my stomach. When Trumpacabra got elected in 2016, I threw myself into politics in a way I never had in my lifetime and it almost wrecked me. I was one of those people who never voted for religious reasons (long, separate story) and I felt I had to make up for lost time. By the time 2020 rolled around, I was an unhealthy mess. I had stopped reading. Everything. When I wasn't watching MSNBC and political commentators obsessively, I started consuming absolute junk TV: home improvement shows, crack paranormal ghost hunter crap, etc. Things with no plot, no emotional investment, no danger. No fear.

Right before the 2020 election, old fanfic friends from my days in the Master and Apprentice Star Wars listserv found me and saved me.

They dragged me back into fandom, introduced me to Discord, and got me writing again. I updated a story I hadn't touched in 5 years. I made new friends online and in RL. I got some great fiction and fic recs from those friends and discovered a subgenre called Hopepunk—low stakes fiction with very little if any violence and fear and with happy endings. (Becky Chambers writes a lot of what I read, and Amy Crook has also become a favorite.)

One morning, I had one of those really vivid, realistic, linear plot dreams that literally dragged me out of bed to the keyboard. It was a meet-cute modern au of The Phantom Menace's characters, set in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan. I cranked out about 2000 words the first day. Then another 2000. Then another 2000. Then another 2000. And so on every damn day for the next four years until I had four novels, about 668k words, several timestamps written by three other collaborators who've come on board, some beautiful art I've been allowed to use, and now a fifth book in the works.

This is the Yooperverse.

It's not just The Fic That Saved Me, it's the place where I'm writing a vision of what the world could be like into being. A place where people with fucking obscene amounts of money don't spend it on themselves, or hoard it, or exploit other people to get more, but use it to help other people. It's a place where people who are bigoted dicks either get their comeuppance and crawl back under their rocks, or learn better and do better. It's a place where abused kids get rescued, everybody gets therapy and healthcare and is paid a living wage, people learn to value themselves and each other, and protect each other and defend each other. It's kinky and queer (although I'm neither) and above all, if not entirely safe to be both, I'm trying to write both things as just being another setting on the dryer. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

It's not a utopia, by any means, because there are still assholes and the government is still ... the government, and capitalism is still a thing. There's some danger, especially in the first book, and there are accidents and illnesses and the vagaries of life. In the middle of the series, I had spinal surgery and was out of commission for a few months and that made me start thinking more about my main character dealing with aging and the limitations thereof. There's a LOT of mental health issues and the working through thereof, and a lot of ongoing process. Nobody's perfect. The world outside is still pretty much what it is. But in the little corners where my characters dwell, life is pretty dang good, sometimes great.

It's a vision of a life we all deserve. It's the thing I loved about Star Trek's universe, where people's basic needs are cared for and the obstacles to them developing their best selves removed. It's what I've loved about science fiction in general, especially Ursula LeGuin's: that opportunity to explore possibilities that are better than the present. It's modeled on the MacArthur Genius grants, but you don't have to prove your worthiness first. My main character invests in people's potential, young or old, with scholarships and grants and a steadying hand. His partner builds low or no-cost housing for people in need. There's an informal network of queer and straight kid rescuing going on under the noses of unfriendly governments and failed social service safety nets. The main characters build refuges, literal and emotional. They love each other fiercely and respectfully.

Right now, we're living in a country that is almost the antithesis of these ideas, for far too many of us. People are being manipulated by their fears, which are stoked by unscrupulous, lying shitbag politicians whose all too real evil would never make it past the pitch if you were going to try to sell it as a TV show or movie. They're consciously turning us on each other with lies about our common humanity, about the state of our country, about who and what's responsible for many of its faults, sewing suspicion and hate. And though the Yooperverse started as my personal comfort fic, I'm trying in my very small way to counteract what's happening in the world right now.

I've always believed in the power of story to change people's minds and lives, and I've experienced it myself. When I talk about story, I don't just mean fiction, though. I mean the narratives we tell ourselves and others about our own lives as a whole and day by day or moment by moment. I mean the stories we tell about each other when we're together, at the bar, at wakes, at a party. I mean the stories we invest in as fans in whatever kind of media we consume. I mean the stories we spin for ourselves and others to explain what the everloving fuck is wrong with the world.

Stories aren't separate from the world, they are the world. They tell it into being. They give it shape and purpose and meaning and a sense of possibility. Whatever stories we tell ourselves or each other about how things should be or how we should act as human beings (also called our "beliefs" or "morals" or "ethics"), they shape us, and we shape society. We are society, both together and as individuals. One person with a big voice and a story can tip a mass of people into either violence or solidarity.

I have no illusions that the Yooperverse will ever have that kind of power. It has a tiny audience on AO3 and Discord and it's mostly written for me to explore the things I feel deeply about, and wish I could do, and to teach myself to be a better person and live up to my own ideals. It's a world I'd like to manifest, to call into being, even in a small way. Even if it's just a story.

[hugsandchaos]

I’ve told y’all about Cryptid Duo. Time and Danny being menaces with very strange lore. Now it’s time for Shifter Duo.

Shifter Duo is my nickname for Twilight and Danny.

They relate to each other having different forms and having “side effects” from said form.

For example, their diet. Twilight needs a bit more raw meat, and Wild knows this, so he cooks his meat rare for him. Danny needs ectoplasm, which is a bit harder for him to find in hyrule and is often only found deep underground. Another example is they both grow sharper teeth after a while. For Danny, it’s because of ghost puberty, and Twilight has just been using his wolf form a lot.

It’s also very big brother + little brother coded. Danny’s usually not a menace and very well behaved. He’s a great kid, and loves to help out around the village! Of course, he’ll occasionally do something or attempt to do something because he knows it’s dangerous, but it’s not dangerous for him for one reason or another.

In some cases, Twilight let him slide since it was an understandable situation, but in worse situations, Twilight will scold him at least a little or ask him to be more careful.

Twilight and Danny also relate to the fear of people reacting negatively to their other form. They will tell each other stories of them getting hurt in their other form that they normally wouldn’t tell anyone else, and it often ends with hugs and promises to protect each other.

And yes, Twilight knows about the incident. Yes, he comforts Danny during lightning storms. Yes, he’d rather get struck two or even three times himself than let Danny go through that pain again. And yes, he listens to, and understands, all of Danny’s rants.

Also, I like the idea of them having met before the rest, and Twilight is very surprised to see him in another Hyrule and worried about him tagging along, but at least he’s happy to see his brother again. He likes calling him Spooks, and soon enough, the rest will see why.

Lastly, they’re both protective of each other when it comes to people knowing about their second forms. Danny only seemed a little suspicious of the others being trusted with Twilight’s second form, but seeing him relaxed and happy assured Danny that they could be trusted with it. Twilight was a bit more concerned about the others not understanding the very explainable way of how Danny became a half ghost and blame it on dark magic.

The bad kind of dark magic. So he made it clear from the moment Danny showed up in ghost form that this ghost kid was nice and if they dared to hurt his little brother, he wasn’t going to hesitate and immediately step in. He really appreciates his group, don’t misunderstand that, but he’s not letting intentional harm to his little brother slide.

And Hylia help him if he ever has the displeasure of meeting what disgusting excuses of parents Danny had…

Now have some quotes and such.

Danny: *recording himself running while clearly sick* Good news! The person who sent you this has escaped containment!

Twilight, chasing him in the background: Oh, no, you don’t! You get back here, you son of a bitch!

Twilight: Lmao, they thought it was Danny they had to be afraid of. Bless their hearts.

No talking, just Danny chasing after Wolfie after he took the thermos

Four: I thought you said your brother was talkative?

Twilight: Watch. Hey, Danny? What’s the most dangerous object in the universe?

Danny:

Danny: You’ll regret this, Twilight. *goes into an in-depth rant about quasar stars, supernovas, and black holes*

[laxxarian]

Vlad had a redemption arc that led to him having a daughter who is Dani, wanting to retire from being a villain and just settle by being a rich dad then few months came and another kid comes barging into his home and it was Dan who looks exactly like Danny except for the color of their eyes.

Turns out, Clockwork gave Dan a chance and Danny had to begrudgingly agree since he may have some doubts, Danny still didn't want to be a complete menace in the future and wouldn't want Dan to escape somehow and wreck havoc.

And if anyone in Amity Park or someone who knew Vlad questions of the eerily similar features of the Dannies, they'd just shrug it off and be blind about it cuz they all just knew that they're all just some big weirdos in their own good way.

But anyway, Vlad had been invited to a gala in Gotham so the three went.... with Danny's supervision flying above invisibly. And as Danny goes, he felt a cold puff coming out of his mouth and the same happened to the other halfas below him so they all stopped and looked around and managed to get themselves in Crime Alley.

Turns out, a kid got kidnapped and a man who seemed to be a ghost but also not a ghost... thinking it was other halfa, the four got excited to know who might they be so in turn, they helped man who was trying to save a kid from some kidnappers.

And when they saved the kid, the three: Dani, Dan and Vlad, realized that they were not in their ghosts forms and had been using their powers in human forms so now they got exposed meanwhile Danny was just hovering in his ghost form chuckling at the sheer mistake of the other halfas.

......im not sure where to continue this but in the end of it all, Bruce found Dan (they're in the gala now) seemingly similar to Danny Fenton in Amity Park so Bruce questioned Vlad and Vlad had to lie.... next to Clark Kent who found a lie in his answer.

And so, something something blah blah and the JL went to Amity Park to discover ghosts and the like and Jason was there too, freaking out at the fact that he could sense the lazarus pit everywhere

[beesmygod]

today is webcomics day. i am bea and i make "A Ghost Story" - part 1: pre-gaming

webcomic day is a yearly celebration of the art form concocted by the screentones podcast team as a way for people to see how the sausage gets made. my webcomic "a ghost story" has been running for over 10 years, and yet i still don't think i can say i am good at making a webcomic. regardless, the comic is getting made because otherwise i become very, very sick in the head. today i would like to share with you the process of making a page of "A Ghost Story" from start to finish. either this demystifies the process or will make you think im so cool and strong for doing this 2x a week. instead of reblogging this one post until it gets very long, i will be posting individual updates that i will then compile and post on my personal website. block the tags now if you HATE comics and want them to EXPLODE.

if you have any questions, even things like "what the fuck are you even talking about" feel free to ask. i want to feel confident in what i make again and i think sometimes interrogation from an outside source is really

---

that said, let's get started. wait just kidding i want a cup of coffee first, hold on.

ok now im ready. i have a big glass of water. i have coffee. i have a headset for the parts of work that don't involve typing words. i can't type words and listen to some streamer babble in my ear at the same time, so it has to be instrumental music or nothing. i just took my meds so they should kick in after about 30 mins. i woke up late today, which is weird and annoying. but maybe i can work late instead.

first off, i need to know where i'm going beyond this one page. if i dont know where im going with something, then i usually create something that sucks that i have to deal with later. hold on my internet died, i have to reset the router. ok, anyway.

what's rattling around in my brain is that not only do i have to deal with maxine's current predicament, i am also dealing with multiple plot elements i need to wrap back around to from the previous chapter. luckily, im about to put maxine down for a nap, which means i can get back to those other elements:

i need to finish the exposition from the three ankou characters for this story arc establishing their motivations as the oppositional force in the story. the "villain" is not these three specifically, but their boss. they need to have a loose understanding of what's going on in order to communicate this to the audience. god this started turning into a huge ass paragraph so i'll just keep it short there.

we've jumped back to before jack's horrible day from the first chapter of this storyline so we have to make our way back toward that and then lapping it, which means wrapping up his various open threads like:

feeding victoria and learning something new about her

finding out alice is a very exceptional employee who is getting many awards

watching valdo call lily while interrupting her during something personal to ask her for help with maxine's situation.

jack meeting with valdo and lily the day after they first met so jack can just tell them straight up that lily has 4 sisters she doesnt know about.

help that girl with her poltergeist problem. remember that. i've had jokes for this rattling in my head for like 4 years. im going insane.

and also the fucking tilberi!!! that has a point its going somewhere!!! there's a larger menace here!!!

other things to set up the climax of this storyline. sexual tensions, hints at larger emotional problems not immediately evident to the reader

lots of moving parts. and i feel like im moving in slow motion to get to them. i can see them all weaving together in my head, its the process of putting that onto paper that's proving difficult.

ok that took an hour starting and stopping. -_- let me write the next part as i keep brainstorming on how to approach this page. taking a "rubber duck" approach to this might help. heres an image from the last page i worked on (i have a 5 page buffer rn so the site does not match the finished pages) to get us semi-situated.

also because images will help people understand what skill level we're working with here. i need to be able to communicate an idea to the audience; if the art also looks good on top of that, then that's just an added bonus. but the ability to communicate my ideas is sometimes hampered by my lack of artistic skill or comics language ineptitude. like those speech bubbles kind of fucking suck but at a certain point you have to just hit print on what you're working on in order to keep your already glacial pace.

webcomics is a tightrope act where you're also spinning 4 plates at once. the trick is to keep the audience from realizing how many actually fall or how wobbly they all are. the act sucks but technically its not a failure.

[cookie-nom-nom]

How to Kidnap Bruce Wayne in 6 Easy Steps

The Batfam decided to have a nice evening together. They had it all planned out. The Joker was JUST put into Arkam, Harley and Poison Ivy were having a date night, and they sent the Riddler a 5k puzzle piece, so they should have a few hours. Hopefully.

But then entered...the comedian. Not a knockoff Joker, mind, an actual comedian serving as the entertainment for the night. The kids were running a bet on the odds of Bruce laughing. Not actual laughter, naturally, but how many fake laughs Bruce would decide to manufacture. Dick maintained it would be 8 times at most, despite what the others thought.

And then a PowerPoint presentation started, with the words Bruce Wayne emblazoned behind the comedian. "Brucie Brucie Wayne. Local philanthropist, runner of jobs and charities and orphanages. Gotham's number one eligible bachelor if and only if you like kids. But Ladies and Gentlemen and Folks, I'm here to tell you otherwise. Because this right here? It's alllll a mask. I know the real Bruce Wayne, and I have the proof to reveal his secret identity."

Bruce was very carefully keeping his eyes on the performer, refusing to acknowledge the eyes latching onto him, or the occasional covert elbows.

The comedian dramatically flourished the remote and changed the slide. A stock photo of a man littering had Bruce's face crudely photoshopped over it popped up. "See! A menace to society! And I have an extremely reliable witness who swears that the recycling bin was three feet away. Tsk. Some people just want to watch the world burn. Which maybe I'd be okay with since we Matched on Tinder, and yet not a single spark despite how much chemistry we'd have!" A wall of unanswered Tinder messages of bad pick-up lines and far, far too many winky faces filled the screen, all sent to a profile claiming to be 'Bruce Waine'. "This MONSTER left me on read! Can you believe it? Ghosted. And that definitely isn't on me, because my Mom says I can make anyone swoon. Who do you trust between the two? Wayne? Some millionaire who could never relate to your everyday experience?" The slide flipped between Bruce suavely dealing with paparazzi and a sweet older woman. "Or Mom, who can make wonderful potlucks, whereas we all know the Wayne Manor has nearly burned down on three separate occasions thanks to Brucie trying to use a toaster!" Technically all villain attacks, but the public needn't know that.

The Wikipedia page's list of philanthropic acts and charities sponsored by Bruce Wayne scrawled across the screen, the comedian gesticulating wildly. "All this?? PROPAGANDA! This is what he WANTS you to think! When in reality, he's a two-faced, duplicitous, littering, puppy-kicking monster who REFUSES to answER MY TEXTS, IT'S NOT HARD! I'M FUNNY AND HOT AND--!" The comedian paused in frothing at the mouth, as if suddenly realizing the audience was there. They straightened, pointedly adjusting their collar. "We all know the true darkness that lies behind his friendly, ditzy, sexy façade. And so our goal is simple: we are going to kidnap this menace for the wellbeing of Gotham (and my love life)."

Step 1: Become an orphan.

"Alright, the first step of Plan 1 is simple. Now that you're an orphan..." the slide changed with a silly transition animation.

Step 2: Irreversible and extensive surgery.

"Now this step is a bit expensive but-" they feigned a surprised face at the protests in the audience. Planted, no doubt. "I'm sorry, what's the hold-up? We don't have all night! This is literally the first step and you already have questions?" The comedian gestured wildly in the direction of the Batfam. Bruce narrowly avoided recognition thanks to his fondness for sitting menacingly in the shadowy corner of the room. "Seriously! There're KIDS in the audience! They're far too young to know how easy it is to get tragically orphaned at a young age and left with no stability and an empty hole in your life to be filled with grief, rage, and fear!

"Sheesh. Some people have no consideration for the faint of heart. Think of the children! Literally, think of the children you will be infiltrating." A flick of the remote and Step 3: Infiltrate an orphanage popped up. "We all know the easiest way into the Wayne household is adoption. Now that you've gotten extensive surgery to appear like a child, the hard part begins.

"Little is known about the entity known as children. I have put together research to aid in your mission. You need to know how to walk, how to dress, how to speak. Do you know what rizz is? Can you dab on command? One mistake and you're dead. You can fool the hearts of men, but children will rip a poor performance to shreds. I should know, I was bullied severely on the playground every time I tried to bring up the question of what the deal with airplane food is..."

The comedian went on, detailing the absurd plan to trick Bruce Wayne into adopting them. It hinged entirely on the fact he was a well-known moron. The Batkids found great glee in piling on the jabs as the comedy bit went on. Step 4: Marketability analyzed the various personalities and attributes of the Batkids to extrapolate how to lure Bruce into adopting the infiltrator, highlighting key traits like 'small' 'looks like a drowned cat' and 'a glare that is really terrifying for a baby to have'. Bruce found that portion almost tolerable, given some of the kids turned upon one another in something akin to a feeding frenzy. But it wasn't long before the full brunt of their teasing returned upon him as Plan 1 concluded with Step 5: Buying rope and duck tape while not looking suspicious and Step 6: Using flower language to apologize (for the abduction).

"...Alright. So, maybe you don't have the funds to shorten the length of your leg bones. Or maybe you don't have black hair and blue eyes. I get it, re-dyeing is messy. If Plan 1 is infeasible for your budget or lifestyle, then I've kindly considered a second revenue of attack."

A massive picture of Batman filled the screen. The crowd descended into mayhem. "Oh don't tell me the entire audience believes the butts match! We're conspiracy theorists here, but I thought you had STANDARDS!" It was possible Bruce's face was going to freeze in that perpetual rictus. Dick waved a hand in front of him, not sure when he last blinked. "Come on people! They're clearly different people. Which is why I'm going to recruit Killer Moth to do a little crime. All the funds that would've gone to child surgery can now be injected directly into the criminal underworld. It's basically the same thing our taxes do but faster! I've thought this through. Killer Moth will do anything for a price and you won't like actually be in danger. I mean, can you imagine dying to some D-tier villain? Cringe. Anyway, this is your 'in' with Batman. He saves you and it's all very heroic. And then you start chatting, maybe get his number; it's going great. It's been a few months of him rescuing you over and over again, and hopefully you haven't died or whatever. At that point you bring up Bruce Wayne. I mean he's getting kidnapped all the time! It has to be incredibly inconvenient for Batman, and he deserves a break for all his hard work. So the next step of this plan is to convince Batman to kidnap Bruce Wayne..."

.....................................................

The comedian paced backstage during intermission, rehearsing the next segment. It seemed to be going well, a good-sized audience. There was one group in the back that was particularly uproarious, save for one adult in the center. But then, the comedian was suddenly surrounded by children who seemingly melted out of the shadows. "I don't think you are supposed to be back here. Are you lost? Do you need help finding your parents? ....wait, shouldn't there have been guards...?"

"Didn't see any," Tim shrugged. Hard to, when they were strung thirty feet up in the rafters of the auditorium. "Anyway, we've just been adoring your act. Our Dad? Not so much, though."

"Eh, can't please them all. Some people just put celebrities on the craziest of pedestals."

"More like he's listening to someone ramble about trying to kidnap him." Beneath a mask a mile thick, Dad was writhing in mortification.

The way the stages of grief so clearly filtered through the comedian's face was fascinating to watch. "..........Bruce Wayne is in the audience?" they asked weakly. "Like. Right now? Watching? Waiting to ambush me with lawyers?"

"Dad's in the bathroom." Batman was desperately out on patrol to avoid his family's heckling.

"Actually, I don't think he's caught on that you're talking about him yet." Jason grinned evilly.

"Man, I heard he was a bimbo but I didn't know it was that severe. My condolences, truly. Thank god the second half of the interview is about trying to plan a dinner date that doesn't get ruined by supervillains. I do NOT need him coming after me for slander. Uh. You aren't offended, right...?" They could not afford any type of lawsuit. Or controversy. The comedian stuck to petty Twitter bait, not actual problems.

The hoard of children beamed. Suddenly, the comedian realized the exits were cut off. A teen's arm looped around theirs, another surprisingly firm grip across their shoulders. "Nah. Actually, we had some suggestions. How'd you like to do a live interview...?"

.....................................................

"Alright folks, you're never going to believe this, but during the intermission I was cornered by children. It was terrible, I was having flashbacks to second grade..." an artistic shudder. "But thankfully, these ones just wanted to harass me after listening to me ramble about trying to seduce and/or kidnap their dad for the last half hour. Can we get a big welcome for the Wayne kids! I'd introduce them but they all look identical to me!" A fantastic roar of applause at the sudden special guest segment. "Luckily, these kids have graciously elected to let me interview them so that I have better data to act on when trying to kidnap their dad. And is he in the audience still...?"

"Nope! Still in the bathroom. Has been for thirty one minutes."

"Either he needs to see a doctor or he's locked himself in again. How often does that happen?"

"At least twice a month," Jason grinned. It wasn't an infrequent excuse to explain disappearances.

"One wonders how he survives. I like that in a man. Now, quick question. Which of you is the cutest?"

"Damian!" the hoard chorused. The youngest one snarled at once, rounding upon the others. The comedian scrambled away in what was unfortunately not a particularly exaggerated fashion. There was pure murder in the twerp's eyes.

Luckily, three brothers restraining him appeared to be enough. "Don't worry he has his rabies shot yearly," one smirked.

With cautious steps, the comedian approached where Damian was being dangled like a baby kitten. A few moments of examination, and they delivered the verdict that Damian was, in fact, a precious baby boy. The child hissed nastily. "Look at his beautiful eyes! Adorable. You could just get lost in them. Which is why I plan to print out approximately 30k pictures of this child and plaster Bruce's entire room with them. He'd never be able to leave, absorbed in his adorable adoptee."

"I'm his only biological offspring!" Damian snapped, literally. Dick had to jerk out of the way to avoid losing his fingers to the chomping child. "And that would never work!"

"Really? Doesn't he keep little picture rolls of you and corner near strangers into cooing over them?" The comedian is passed Bruce's wallet by Stephanie. "Wait, how'd you get this?"

"I took it from Dick, who stole it from Jason who stole it from Tim, who took it to reprimand Damian for stealing it from Dad."

"Wow, he is not observant in the slightest! I feel even better about my odds now. Oh, would you look at that, countless pictures..." They pulled out a roll. And then kept pulling, and kept pulling, the camera roll beginning to puddle at their feet. It was almost like a clown's handkerchief, save the fact the string of photos was sturdy enough to be used as a rope if needed. More than one of Gotham's rogues had been captured under the guise of Bruce rambling about his children.

"How much can he fit in one wallet?!" Something metallic clanged to the floor of the stage, and the comedian held up a pair of expanding handcuffs for the audience to gawk at. "Well well well, looks like I have excellent taste in men. Wait, there's also some pepper spray. When in Gotham, I suppose. Wow that's a concerning number of pocket knives...and approximately 2k in 100 dollar bills-- well isn't this scarily similar to the list of supplies I recommended in step 5! What, did he just hold someone ransom? Wait. Oh my god, that's how he made all his money. It's guilt that makes him a philanthropist! And all this time we thought he was perpetually haunted by his dead parents! WAIT." The comedian let the crowd howl, periodically interjecting as they paced the stage with grandiose graveness. "I have had an epiphany!" The laughter finally petered out, the comedian allowing the silence to linger. "Guys," they said, deadly serious. "If he made his millions kidnapping people, and I kidnap him....does that make ME Bruce Wayne???"

Batman had to dodge jokes from his kids for weeks afterward.

[spencerreidswhore187]

Checkmate (The Final Part)

By @spencerreidswhore187 for @sackofpissandshit (who has been harassing me for this fic all week)

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five

Summary: Spencer finds out that reader is not who he thought they were. (Lots of angst)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Unsub (g!n) Reader

Word Count: 3.1K

TW: Death, kidnapping, mentions of assault, blood, strong-ish language, mentions of suicide, mentions of self-harm, severing of a limb, fire.

A/N: Hi! Thank you to everyone who liked, commented, reblogged and followed Checkmate, it means the world to me. Sorry this has taken me a while to write, a fun fact about me is I currently have a kidney infection - my doctor told me this on the one year anniversary of my last kidney infection. Anyway, enjoy me, an extremely British person trying (and failing) to be American.

P.S. There is a Star Trek reference in this that killed me to write.

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

It was a foolish thing to fall in love with hope. Hope was dangerous. Hope was irresistible. Hope would inevitably kill you. 

You had hoped you'd survive this but knew it was impossible; as you ran, you felt it die - that spark, your soul. There was no Y/N, not anymore. Only the Phantom Menace remained.

Y/N will not be able to save Spencer, but the Phantom Menace could. 

You hated that name (not that it mattered) you had no say in it. You were a ghost Ben had told you, a monster. You needed a name that mirrored that. 

You were like a shadow all those years ago. You disguised yourself in the dark, letting gloom envelop you. You felt safe when you became the ghost. 

It was like you did not exist. All your problems went away and you allowed yourself to be someone else - something else. You had scaled the coarse brick wall of a manor house dreaming of your future. When you silently slipped through the window, you thought about love. 

It was unbecoming to believe a person could ever fall in love with someone like you - a killer, the creature that lurked under children’s beds, haunting their nightmares. 

Still, your mind chased the foolish fantasy. 

Love was what let you dissociate. Love was what let you drag a blade along a stranger’s neck. And, when you returned like clockwork to the Ivylands without a drop of crimson blood on you, you would walk alone through the woods to the cabin by the lake.

You had been instructed to go there after every mission. 

Ben would stroke your hair, calling you beautiful and shower you with praise. Once upon a time, you thought that was what love was...you knew better now. Thanks to Spencer.

Spencer was your everything and you would not let yourself lose him. 

That meant killing the gentle thing you’d become. You wished it was harder than it was to do so. 

“Left,” you murmured, heading to the cabin was like listening to your old favourite song: it had been so long, yet, you still knew every single word.

You knew this is where Beth had taken Spencer; She hated that place. She wasn’t like you, Ben’s rare, kind words did not fill her with life - they made her sick, they made her angry. You used to wish you were more like her: she was confident and proud, not some kid who did whatever was asked of them. Still, Beth would wipe away your tear after every kill. “Never let him see you hurting,” she would make you promise “because even if Ben tells you he feels bad for what he did, I need you to know that deep down he has a sadistic smile knowing he broke you. Don’t let him break you, Mouse.” 

Ben never saw you cry, not until he killed Beth. He laughed at his pretty little murderer as tears streamed down your cheeks. You stopped feeling that day - you became numb. That is, until, him. 

Spencer made your heart start beating again. 

At last, you stopped running. The cabin was ancient, constructed of rotting moss-stained wood. You had no idea how after all this time, it was still standing. 

The porch groaned as you hesitantly approached the door; you gripped the brass handle and twisted it. Your hands were shaking. 

It was useless trying to be discrete. Beth knew you were coming, she likely knew you were already here.

The door screeched as it opened, though, you could barely hear it - your heart was pounding in your ears. 

Nothing prepared you for the sight of Dr Spencer Reid handcuffed, sitting crossed-legged on the floor, with Beth aiming a gun at him. 

Beth had a warm smile plastered on her face as you walked through the threshold, “Hello, Mouse.” 

You hated the nostalgia that stupid nickname made you feel. All the others had called you that behind your back, you used to pretend like you didn’t hear. You like it when Beth said it, though. 

It made you feel special.

Not anymore.

You raised your gun at her, “Let him go.” You kept your gaze focused on her, not allowing it to slip back to Spencer, who you could see watching you out of your peripheral.

Part of you was shocked that he didn’t grimace at your appearance; blood and mud coated your entire body. But Spencer wasn’t like that, it did not matter who you were or what you looked like, to him you would always be the most beautiful person in the world. Sometimes, when he held you under the covers of your bed, whispering sweet nothings, you would believe him. 

“Put the gun down, Y/N,” Beth ordered. She pushed it against Spencer’s temple. 

You could hear Spencer’s rapid breathing. You didn’t let it distract you. Instead, you took a step closer to them. 

Beth didn’t like that. “Don’t fucking test me, Mouse. I will kill him.”

“No,” your voice was confident, steady, even, the Phantom Menace was talking now, “you won’t.”

You cocked the gun and fired without hesitation. 

Beth’s wicked cackle flooded the room as you missed, shattering the window behind her.

Shards of glass scattered across the floor, distracting you. Your idiotic mistake allowed Beth to steal your gun. 

You focused on Spencer’s hazel eyes as she roughly pulled your hands behind your back. As you felt the cool metal of handcuffs around your wrists, you mouthed to Spencer: “It’s okay.” 

Beth grabbed your hair, using it to pull you to the floor. You didn’t even wince as you fell onto a pile of jagged glass, you watched Spencer rapidly search you for open wounds. 

You sat opposite him as Beth sat down at the dining room table. She raised her gun again. 

“I have some questions for the two of you,” she taunted. “You are both going to do whatever I say, correct?”

Neither of you answered. This angered Beth; she fired the pistol twice, a few metres from where you lay. “Correct?” She repeated.

Spencer replied instantly, “Yes.”

You refused to look at Beth, “yes,” you muttered.

“Wonderful,” she laughed, “Checkmate.”

—————————————————————————————————---

When the unknown number started calling, Penelope Garcia was already on the phone. 

“Pen, Penelope. I need you to calm down okay?” Emily tried to reassure her.

“I don’t - I can’t breathe. Oh my god Luke. Emily! Please, I don’t know what to do. First Spencer and now my newbie? I-”

“He’s alive, Penelope. Y/N didn’t kill him, she missed his heart. Luke is on his way to the hospital, and Rossi and I are on our way back to headquarters.”

“I don’t understand, Emily, you saw Y/N L/N try and stop the bleeding?” 

“Yes?”

“Then how do you they shot him?”

“No one else was with them and Spencer is gone. I can’t explain why they did it. We know they poisoned and then tried to save Reid, perhaps they have a saviour complex…what is that ringing?”

Garcia spun around in her chair, reaching for her work phone.

“Some unknown number keeps calling.”

Emily’s voice filtered through the mobile instantly, “answer it. Now,” she ordered.

“…you don’t think it’s-”

“I do.”

Penelope answered immediately, placing her other phone on her desk. 

“Is this Agent Penelope Garcia of the BAU?” Asked a distorted voice.

Penelope replied anxiously, “Speaking.”

“I have something you might like to see.” The call disconnected as a hyperlink came through on her computer. 

Rossi and Emily entered the room as soon as Garcia clicked on the link. 

“What on earth…” She gasped.

A live video appeared on the screen showing Y/N and Reid both handcuffed, sat on a wooden floor.  

“Someone tell JJ to look for a log cabin. Immediately.” Instructed Emily. 

“Dr Reid,” a voice from offscreen purred, “why don’t you go first? Tell your dear girlfriend about Meave.” 

————————————————————————————————————-

Meave. You recognised that name but for the life of you could not figure out why. 

“Ignore her,” you pleaded.

Beth scoffed, making a show of cocking the gun, “wrong answer. Try again.”

Spencer inhaled deeply. “Meave died because of me.”

“You can do better than that, Reid.”

“She, um, was my girlfriend. She was being stalked by this girl Diane Turner. It was a murder-suicide.” 

“Don’t forget to tell our Y/N when this was,” Beth taunted. 

“N-nearly four years ago.”

Right before he met you. The grave you realised. It all made so much sense. She was why Spencer was in the cemetery, Meave was who he was coming to see. 

You could tell Beth wanted to make you jealous but you felt nothing at all. Your heart broke a little for Spence, you could see why he lied about being a doctor. 

If Beth was irritated by your silence, you couldn’t tell. “Your turn Mouse!” She sang, “If you answer honestly then you can ask me a question.”

You closed your eyes briefly, already knowing what she was going to ask.

“Who’s August?” 

“No,” you whispered.

Her hand slapped your cheek with a powerful force. You weren’t surprised, Ben had taught you how to inflict pain oh so well. 

“Who. Is. August.” She repeated. 

You corrected, “Was. Who was August.” You regretted ever telling Beth about them. 

You fidgeted against the restraints. “August was the first person I loved. They were kind and caring and I killed them anyway.” You turned your head towards Beth, “How did you survive?”

“Are you sure that’s what you want to ask? It’s such a boring question.” 

“Answer it then.” Beth rolled her eyes. 

“The fucking bastard missed my heart when he shot me. Just like I missed SSA Luke Alvez’s. Ben’s assistants through my body into an open grave and left me there, didn’t even bother to check my pulse,” she sniffed, “Your turn again, Reid. What was it that you purchased last week when you pretended to be sick to avoid going to work?”

Spencer turned slightly, staring right at you as he said it.

“An engagement ring.”

“Spence…” You breathed.

Beth was beaming. Spencer looked like he was going to throw up. 

“It was a really beautiful ring, Mouse, so simple, so plain. Just like you,” she teased. 

“Why are you doing this?” 

Beth kissed her teeth, “It’s not your turn, honey. Now, explain why you poisoned your precious boyfriend, or, better yet, pretended to be his wife when you called for an ambulance.” 

“I don’t know why,” you lied.

“Yes, you do!” Spencer couldn’t breathe. “It’s because you do whatever your master, Ben, tells you.” Shouted Beth.

“Then it’s a good thing you killed him,” you spat. 

You repeated your earlier question. “Why are you doing this.”

Making sure Beth was distracted, you slowly, discretely, reached for the jagged shard of glass on the left of your right hand. 

“It’s not fair,” she seethed, “I trusted you and you fell in love with one of them. You hated police officers, remember? They are the reasons we became monsters! If they hadn’t stopped looking for us, we never would have ended up here, in this house, in this cabin. If-if it wasn’t for them, my family would still be alive.” 

You grasped the glass shard tightly, blood trickling down your palm. 

“If my family has to be dead, then so does yours. There’s only one person you care about…him.” Beth gestured at him with the gun. 

“Last question before I kill you both-”

“Y/N,” Spencer edged towards you.

“Enough, pig. Do you love them?” Beth tapped the gun against his head. 

Spencer didn’t bother hiding the truth, if you were both going to die, he needed you to know. He looked into your eyes, Spencer would happily drown in the [your eye colour] of your eyes. “I love you,” He vowed. 

“Even now? She is a murderer, after all, the very thing you’re hired to destroy.” 

“You are the knife I turn inside myself; that is love. That, my dear, is love.” He quoted. 

 Spencer must have read Kafka’s ‘Letters to Milena’ a thousand times since you met, every time he opened the cover of the novel, he was brought back to the day he met the love of his life. 

“You are poetry material, Spence; You are full of cloudy subtleties I am willing to spend a lifetime figuring out. Words burst in your essence and you carry their dust in the pores of your ethereal individuality.” Immediately you were engulfed by pain, you pressed the glass shard against the base of your pinky finger and pushed and pushed. You tried your hardest to keep your breathing steady when finally you severed the finger. 

You saw Spencer notice the blood pooling behind you. You subtly shook your head as he opened his mouth to protest. Angling your hand just right, you were able to agonisingly force your hand out of one of the cuffs. 

Beth slowly walked towards you, “Well wasn’t that romantic. Oh, wait, I mean pathetic.” 

Without hesitation, you tackled her to the ground, reaching for the gun in her hand. 

“Y/N!” You heard Spencer cry as Beth’s elbow collided with your chin. You were blinded by pain but that did not matter, you needed that weapon. You notice a small triangle of glass to your right, you reached for it and plunged it into Beth’s side. 

Beth screamed, immediately reaching to pull the glass out. This allowed you to capture the gun.

How the tables turn, you thought, as you pressed the barrel against her temple.

“Spencer,” you instructed slowly, “go.”

He stood up and took one step towards you, “Spence, please,” your voice cracked, “I need you to go.”

“I’m not going to leave you Y/N.” 

“Please, Spence.”

“Y/N-”

“I love you. Promise me you’ll run as fast as you can. Don’t turn back. I’ll be right behind you.” You both knew it was a lie. 

Beth squirmed in your grasp. 

“You’ll be right behind me?”

“Scout’s honour.” You did the Vulcan salute for good measure. 

You made sure to drink Spencer in one more time, he was so beautiful. You wished you could have told him more. 

Spencer turned back around one last time before leaving. 

“You lied.” Beth gave a cold, wet laugh - blood dribbled down her chin. “Neither of us is getting out of this alive.”

You stood up, brushing the dirt off you. Your hand was throbbing. “Did Ben seriously not remember you?”

Beth looked at you, face painted with confusion. 

“Power of hair dye, I guess.” You shrugged. 

Beth remained on the soiled ground as you walked towards the set of drawers. You rummaged through the mess till you found what you were looking for. Tentatively, you pulled one out of the box, dragging it along the side.

“You’re crazy,” Beth breathed. 

You held the match near your face, examining the orange flame. 

“Checkmate,” you mocked as you let go. 

——————————————————————————————————

Spencer ran and ran and ran. If he stopped it became too real. He refused to believe it. He kept running through the woods until he collided with someone else. 

“Spencer!” Exclaimed JJ, pulling him in for a hug. Spencer rested his head on her shoulder, he couldn’t help the sobs that escaped him. “It’s okay, it’s okay, you’re okay,” JJ soothed, rubbing his back. 

“I have to go back,” Spencer whispered into her shoulder. “I need to help them, they-”

“Spencer,” Tara said slowly, gently, “what do you mean?”

“Spencer pushed away from JJ and started explaining “They’re still…no. No. NO!”

He turned around and watch the melancholy smoke rise, dancing above the horizon. The amber flames taunted him, reaching for the stars in the distance. 

Spencer thought he knew heartbreak…it felt nothing like this. Pain didn’t do this feeling justice. He felt like he was dying. 

——————————————————————————————————

It had been a week since you died; Spencer had only left the headquarters once. 

The team had tried to coax him away from the reports but it was to no avail. Something was wrong, he was sure of it. You couldn’t be dead. You couldn’t. 

Emily had shown Spencer the footage from the live stream with Beth in hopes it would give him closure, it just made it worst. He replayed the last five seconds of the clip again and again. 

There was something malicious, something cunning, about the way you stared at the camera as you dropped the match. 

It was like you knew it was there all along. 

“Reid…” Emily tried, but Spencer ignored her. She didn’t matter. Nothing mattered but you.

Your funeral was the day before. No one went but Spence. 

He had traced your name in the granite on your gravestone where Y/N Reid was engraved. He knew you hated your last name. He held his treasured copy of Letters to Milena and spoke for the first time in days: “If a million loved you, I am one of them, and if one loved you, it was me, and if no one loved you then know that I am dead.” He left the novel, along with his broken heart and shattered soul, at the grave. 

Spencer reached for the fire report once again. 

He had memorised every word but still, he would read it again and again until he found whatever it was Spencer was looking for. 

He ran a long, thin finger along the printed words.

Two bodies had been found in the ruins of the cabin. Both were too burnt to be identifiable, not that it could have been anyone else other than Beth Gallagher and Y/N L/N. One body had a deep cut on the left side of their stomach and the other was covered in shallow cuts. Other than that, no wounds. No wounds, Spencer repeated to himself, both bodies had all ten fingers and all ten toes. 

No..it couldn’t be possible.

But Spencer knew what he saw, the memory was tattooed on his brain. He watched you cut your finger off. 

You were alive.

A/N: Thank you for reading! This is the final part of the Checkmate series (sorry for the cliffhanger) I hope you enjoyed it. I did write an epilogue in addition to this part but I'm not sure whether I'm going to post it or not ◡̈

——————————————————————————-

If you would like to be added to the tag list comment or message me.

Taglist: @sackofpissandshit @ara-a-bird @princess-ofthe-pages @catsinaspacesuit @skull-centric @wrldofsage @dezibou

[jackdaw-and-hattrick]

Danny’s parents don’t vivisect him when he tells them he’s Phantom

They don’t even reject him. They pull him into a tight hug and cry, whispering broken-voiced apologies as he talks about what he’s been through. But that doesn’t mean everything is fine. He doesn’t see the way they tense, the wild-eyed looks they share as they come to terms with their new reality. Their baby is dead. He’s dead and it’s their fault. Every shot. Every new weapon they were sure would be the one to take that dreaded menace down. Fuck, every hours-long rant about just what they’d like to do with that dastardly Phantom if they ever got their hands on him. Danny paling as he learned to fear them. Jack and Maddie had always worked so hard to protect their children. Sure, they hadn’t always been perfect, but why else would they throw themselves into ghost hunting the way they had if not for their children? It had been for their children, right? Every sleepless night over blue prints and days hammering away in their labs or off chasing whatever spirit they had found, it had been to keep their babies safe, hadn’t it? Hadn’t it? Even the ghost portal, their magnum opus which let all these ghosties through in the first place had been so they could better understand their enemy. But it had been it which did their boy in. Had they missed out on so much of Danny’s childhood just to build the guillotine that came down on his neck? Their poor boy. He’d been through so much. What kind of parents were they if they couldn’t even keep their children safe in death? Didn’t their boy deserve to rest in peace? Why was the world so cruel? Was there anything they could do? Anything at all?

They didn’t deserve to live.

Their babies weren’t safe. Never had been. Never WOULD be, not so long as they existed.

There had to be a way. A way to keep them safe from the cruelty of this life and the next.

The Fenton parents knew well by now how to destroy a core. What if they… Was there a way to destroy one before it got the chance to form? If there was enough destructive ecto like they used in their guns (oh god, why did they have so many god damned guns?), any core would theoretically be wiped out before it got the chance to form properly. If they took everything down to the lab, rewired the portal a bit, just enough to make it unstable… it would be easy enough to get Danny and Jazz down there, all they’d have to is ask (they had such good kids). They could just… lock the lab doors. Tell the kids to count to three. It would be so easy.

Could they do this?

They had to

They were parents, they needed to make sure their babies were safe

No matter the cost

[nothingbutnowhere]

Hockey Player AU! Captain John Price Headcanons

...

Center. Long time captain (obv.), long suffering captain. 1000+ games. Someone get this man a cup already ffs. Defensive offenseman; has like three Selke trophies.

Not a big goal scorer, under reactive cellies, does the stand and point at whoever was the assist. But he does tally a few good assists per year and his cellies for his boys are intense. A little slower these days but will not back down from a crushing hit or dropping the gloves when he makes the occasion call for it. MEAN slapshot.

Leads by example... which... can lead to some crowded penalty boxes- you do NOT cheap shot these guys. They can and will drop the gloves. Price holds his team to the same standards and isn't afraid to enforce it internally. He'll drag Soap out of a pile as many times as he needs to. They play hard and physical, but clean.

Similarly, he wants to hold the league to high standards as well. If he feels there's been too many bad calls by the refs he's ready to cut a check to the league for scalding criticism post game.

Loves his boys so much. Always yelling encouragement on the bench. Would and has run through a wall for them. Physically affectionate. Known to give a little kiss on the cheek during cellies or on the bench 🥹 Gif sets of those are very popular. We love to see it.

He's a hockey veteran though and though, made some deep playoff runs, knows his shit, knows they can win a cup.

His team may be down but they are never out. Do not turn off the game, do not leave the stadium early, because you will regret it. Price will lead the team though the most nail biting comeback you've ever seen. He's fully taken the clipboard from the assistant coach to draw up plays before and it WORKS. Down three with three minutes left? One goal per minute, easy (this is, in fact, not easy).

Gaz is set to be his predecessor for captain. Price could not be more happy about it; he took Gaz under his wing the second he was drafted. Even though their play styles aren't the same, Gaz learns a lot from Price's leadership skills.

The kids think he's trendy with the 'bucket hat'... has to explain it's not.

Not a media favorite. He doesn't use the stock hockey responses and is a little too real. Has accidentally sworn multiple times live on air :( Used to avoid interviews and pressers when he was younger, but once he took on leadership roles he had to make peace with it. He gets asked the 'why are you so pissy' comment that Drai did a couple years ago. Reporter got a death glare for that.

Yet a fan favorite. We can't help it he's so handsome!! Competency is hot!! He's loyal and passionate! What's not to love about him!

Locker room menace- walks around naked and does not give a fuck. Much to the chagrin of the media. (Pls one shot of his ass just one please we're begging you)

Hockey hair status: yes with his facial hair. Keeps the chops shorter during the regular season, but lets it all grow for the playoffs

Roster pic status: he's giving that one face. His promo videos are also 😵‍💫

Mic'd up: he'll do it and knows people like his voice (for some reason?) but he doesn't prefer it

WAG status: has been with the same women for years and years. She enjoys games with the other girls, but doesn't party as much as she used to. His family was SO cute at his 1000th game ceremony 🥹 

His number WILL be retired one day and I WILL cry at the ceremony.

After retirement will stick around to coach, probably after taking a few years off to be with his family.

...

I do NOT consent for my works, part of my works, or my ideas to be used for ANY form of AI.

Note: WAG stands for wife and girlfriend or the plural, used to refer to sports guy's significant others. Yes it is heteronormative. (Read as self insert if you so desire). Hockey Price is somewhat based on my previous fav (now retired) player Mikko Koivu.

More hockey au: Ghost | Soap | Gaz

[wordy-little-witch]

Is it bad to want to see more of Ghost Roger shenanigans? Because now that the man knows he can talk to the living world... The conversations, Perona is getting so many stories about Buggy and Shanks as children. Poor Buggy

OUGH yes absolutely give me an excuse to write about this bc it's so silly and it's arguably one of my most favorite things ever aaaaaa

Roger is just SO excited, and while he does have HUGE Girl Dad energy, he's hitting all the Dad Points. He's a Capital D Dad. The D in Gol D Roger stands for DAD and I cannot articulate this enough. It's hilarious. He's an idiot. He made so many mistakes but he always always ALWAYS did his best to do right by his kids and he loved them with every cell in his body. He was the type of parent who would have a wallet solely for the opportunity to flip it open dramatically and unroll a mile long strip of baby photos.

Even being dead won't stop him from gushing about his sons and embarrassing them.

Perona ultimately becomes his main focus because Fresh Meat, and she's just gobbling this up. They're mutually trying desperately to figure out how to get ghost pictures into the physical world. She has all the tea.

Up to and including walking up to Buggy one day during a cross guild meeting, no regard whatsoever for the "uncute and stuffy vibe" to instead redirect focus onto the Important Stuff.

"Hey Buggy, did you really once dress in drag ad a child to get free food at Fishman island"

Crocodile chokes on his cigar. Mihawk damn near does a spit take. Buggy just sighs.

"Yeah."

"Are there pictures"

"Somewhere probably"

"Can I h-"

"No"

"Booo you're mean! Grandpa Roger said I could"

Buggy then manages to somehow snort and gasp, coughing harshly as his whiskey drips from his nose. "GRANDPA WHO?!?!?!"

Meanwhile Roger is floating in the upper corner in full gremlin pose as he cackle like the menace he is. ((And no he does not flinch when Buggy side eyes him aggressively while cleaning his face.... he just..... decided suddenly and with no particular reason to avoid his clown child's room for the next three to five business weeks. Pranks can be played elsewhere. No, he isn't scared of his most unhinged child.... of course not............ ((the old scar from a tiny mouth clamping on his ankle aches a little, but he's very good at ignoring things))))

All of this is, ofc, not even touching on the hijinks the kids got up to together. Perona has SO much blackmail!!!