#and they misunderstanding everything Danny says and it’s hilarious

[that-weird-thing-in-the-woods]

Hey so I realized that I’ve been kinda been neglecting my 🪷Queen Danny AU🪷

!!!Some things you want to know about this AU!!!

Originally this au came from my Aphrodite Danny au which now that I’m thinking about it I’ve been neglecting too so be on the look out for that, anyway it was from god games { pls go look it up it is so good } and Danny as Hera and than Danny as Queen you can guess the rest but I still kept the main idea of it

Danny is the queen of the ghost zone because he win in a fight against Pariah Dark

Danny gets heavily injured because of GIW or his parents and goes through the portal destroying it in the process and ends up getting nursed back to health by Pariah Dark and in the process gaining a Father-Son relationship with him (NO ROMANCE FOR THEM IF I SEE ANYTHING ABOUT THEM BEING IN LOVE YOU WILL BE BLOCKED!!! DANNY IS A CHILD AND PARIAH DARK IS AT LEAST +100)

But as Pariah Dark has millennia worth of paper work to do from his time in the nap box so he has to leave Danny for a bit to do that so he leaves Danny with two hand maids that are absolute sweethearts to Danny ( only to Danny even Pariah Dark is not safe from their wrath )

Let’s call the girls Umi and Yume. Umi has short black hair that is pin straight that goes to her shoulders and teal eyes and a beauty mark under her right eye with that she also has a “deathly” pale complexion { you see what I did there } she’s wearing a black kimono with a Blue belt (!!Fun Fact!! The belt of a kimono is the fabric that goes around the midsection of the wearer!) Yume has long black hair that goes to her hips and has very pale green eyes and a beauty mark under her left eye much like her sister she also has a deathly pale complexion with that she’s also wearing a black kimono but instead of a blue belt it is purple

They died of sickness and reason they have such a pale complexion, and like I said before they absolutely adore Danny ( he acts like their mother did so they imprinted to him FAST and they remind him of Dani who was destabilized and the remaining ecto/ her core was destroyed by the GIW before Danny could do anything ) and also like I said before they barely put up with anyone else Umi has thrown people though walls because they were annoying her and talking to Danny

Anyway they like to dress Danny up in kimonos and other clothes of that origin and Danny lets them because they have fun and doesn’t want to ruin that for the girls ( at this point the girls and ghost with a fashion obsession are in constant cahoots with what to make next ) and while all this is happening the JL mess up or while one member and gets held hostage and will not be let go and the have to get help from the ghost zone so a group goes to ask for help from them and Pariah Dark says that if they want their help they have to convince the Ancients + the Queen to help them

And that’s about it sorry I’ve been radio silence for the past couple days I’ve been busy with things I’ll try to get stuff out but can’t really make any promises right now. Anyway byeee

[quirkless-accident]

Could you maybe do something with ghost king Danny attending ua, and with the dorm system they find out? I absolutely adore reveals, and I just think it would be hilarious to see how his classmates could find out, and their reactions! :)

It was supposed to be a normal night.

Everything in the day had gone perfectly. He aced his math test in Ectoplasm's class. Managed to stay awake in Cementoss' class. Absolutely kicked ass with Kirishima and Jirou during foundational heroics, and remembered to call his parents and tell them how school was doing. With enough time to spare for homework.

But just as he was getting settled in, there was a pull at his core.

His transformation came without his permission, and he realized with horror that he was in the outfit that he wore to Council meetings. Fuck-what was happening? Why was his whole body being covered with light? What the fuck was going on?

He tried to resist the pull, but all it did was make his chest ache like a motherfucker. He kept trying though, until he cried out in pain. The bright light enveloped him and in the blink of an eye he was...

In the common room?

He was floating above a sigil that had been painted on a large blanket of canvas, with candles surrounding him. Below him were his very confused classmates, and in the kitchen with a mug halfway to his face was a very wide-eyed homeroom teacher.

"Yo, what the fuck is going on?" Kaminari asked, breaking the tense silence.

"Uh...I think you guys just summoned me on accident?" He asked, stepping down to the ground. He was hyperaware of the crown of ice floating above his head, and the Cape of Constellations brushing his calves.

"We-I was trying to summon the King of Ghosts," Tokoyami stuttered out. "I didn't think it would actually-Danny, are you...The King of Ghosts?"

All of his classmate's eyes were on him. Even Bakugou had stopped whatever he was doing to look at him. In the kitchen, Aizawa's expression was expertly blank, which probably meant he was absolutely furious.

"Uh...I can explain?"

"Please do," Aizawa said as he grabbed his mug and walked to the common room. He stood behind a bewildered Tokoyami. "Please, tell me how my student is apparently the King of Ghosts."

"Well-er, you see," Danny rubbed the back of his neck nervously as he looked from one surprised face to the next. "Almost a year ago there was this big bad guy named Pariah Dark who was let out of his Sarcophagus of Forever Sleep and I helped beat him? And because I was the one that defeated him, by ghost law, I'm the one who has to run the Ghost Zone now."

"I think you misunderstand me," Aizawa says. His voice his horrifyingly calm considering the situation. "Let's rewind to the part where you're apparently a ghost."

"Oh, well, you guys all know about my parents, right? They're a little crazy when it comes to ghosts, and um-well, to make a long story short I got into a lab accident and I sort of...Died? But I'm still alive? It's-I don't really know how the science works, if I'm being honest. But. Yeah. They call me a halfa-half ghost, half human. Half alive, half...dead."

The class was stunned into silence. Danny was so nervous, he knows for a fact that the temperature dropping was his doing and not the AC being fucky again. He really hadn't wanted anybody to find out, let alone like this. And now they were going to think he was a freak. It was just like Spectra said. He's just a creepy little boy with creepy little powers and-"

"What was your quirk before you died?" Tsu asked. Because of course she was going to. She was one of the most observant kids in the class, and the was the one blunt enough to ask what everybody was now thinking. He could feel his face heat up with shame as he looked down, avoiding everybody's gazes.

"I was quirkless before my accident," he tells them. His voice his quiet, but the room is quieter. When he speaks, nobody has a problem being able to hear him.

He hates it. He hates this. He hates being the center of attention. He feels like an exposed nerve that they're all twanging, playing him until he finally snaps. He feels like there's ants under his skin and he can't help but shrink in on himself.

"Do your parents know?" Aizawa asks him. He knows about his parent's reputation as ghost hunters. For their son to be one, it certainly doesn't paint a pretty picture. But thankfully this is one question he doesn't have to worry about.

"Yeah, they do. I told them right before the entrance exam. They-they're helping me out. They've been really supportive. Honestly, I should have told them sooner."

"So do you have any other cool ghost friends?" Uraraka asks. It's enough to break the tension, and Aizawa is looking a little concerned, but not enough to keep pressing. His classmates however, bombard him with questions.

"Are you a ghost hunter too?"

"Is that why you have so many powers?"

"Do ghosts quirks transfer over to the afterlife or do they get a new power depending on how they died?"

"How do the constellations in your cape move like that?"

It's a lot of questions all at once, and Iida, thank time, forces everybody to raise their hands like their in class. But none of them...Care. They probably care that he died in the first place, but they don't care that he's a real ghost-or the Ghost King-and none of them care that he was quirkless. It's so much more than he could have ever asked for.

He looks over at Aizawa, who's back to watching from his spot in the kitchen. He's doesn't bother trying to hide his mischievous grin in his scarf like he usually does as revels in the chaos in front of him. Danny looks to Tokoyami, because it was he apparently who brought Danny downstairs. And, with a completely straight face, says some very off the wall, on brand-Tokoyami shit he's ever heard.

"What a mad banquet of darkness."

[cryptidvoidz]

Keep Them Safe: Chapter Seven

Based on @whatwashernameagain‘s fic: Keep Him Safe

Warnings: Angst, blood, beatings, knives, choking, cursing, hint at non-consenting sexual acts.

Chapter One

Tag List: @himrachel @whatwashernameagain

A/N: OMG ANOTHER CHAPTER?! Well, guess what, the newest chapter of KHS has me shook, and I was struck with MAJOR inspiration to write this.

Chapter Seven (AO3 link)

Redmond balances on the edge of the curb, arms outstretched as he tiptoed along. He told Dexter and Oliver he could pick up the little minion from his first day of school today, but that was a couple of hours away, and the man felt too antsy to really stay still or inside. Oliver avoided the topic of the day before, seeming incredibly nervous and shy. The long haired male couldn't blame him. The whole situation was unexpected, and from what he was able to gather (because he couldn't remember much), he had asked to go home with the detective. When he had woken up this morning, he felt better than he had in ages, so perhaps him being so touch-starved wasn't really a shocker.

The things he could remember, though, brought a smile to his lips. Waking up, the first thing he had seen was the small detective cuddled up against his chest. The sight was absolutely breathtaking, from the way the man's fingers had latched onto his shirt, to the way the sun turned his hair into fire, the flames lazily flickering in every direction. Redmond could see the stars in his freckles that dusted across his cheeks and nose, and quietly mapped out full constellations. Gently carding his fingers through the cherry red hair allowed him to see the platinum blonde and dark brown roots starting to show. Even after all these years, Oliver still kept his hair dyed a pristine crimson, taking great care of it to make sure that it stayed soft and manageable. To anyone who didn't know the man, they'd probably think this was his natural hair color.

Oliver also had a nice, slim build, hiding muscles under the lean exterior, reminding the man of a cat, powerful with a sleek frame, able to silently stalk its prey. He had run his fingers lightly down Oliver's arms, breath catching as he felt the familiar raises in skin. The detective's arms were decorated with an array of crisscrossing scars, all different lengths and sizes. Tears stung the backs of his eyes because in the sixteen years that he had known the redhead, there had only ever been a couple here and there, and they had always faded within a few months. Those? Those weren't fading any time soon.

Running his hands through his loose hair, Redmond checked his phone, sighing dejectedly as he saw the time. Still an hour and fourty-three minutes to go. He let his feet carry him to the cafe. Going inside wasn't his plan, however, as he stepped into the alley and grasped at the ladder. Laying on the rooftops helped him think his entire life, and right now, he needed to think.

For example, what was he going to do about Oliver? He certainly didn't hold a grudge now. Once he had realized that his mom had been the reason Oliver had said those harsh words, all of his anger and hurt melted away. And to see how that bitch still had a hold of him to this day made him protective. He remembered the pain in those mismatched eyes. He knew that pain. That was the pain of loving someone who, quite obviously, didn't love you back. Redmond had felt it with his ex. But Oliver? He'd been dealing with that pain for twenty-eight years, unable to cut ties with the mom he tried so hard to impress, only to be met with disappointment and rejection for who he was. The texts Redmond had seen the day before had shown him more than enough.

A buzzing from his pocket let him know it was time to go pick up Danny. It was only a short walk to the school, thankfully, because Redmond's car was still at Dexter's, all the way across town. As he walked, he found his mind drawn back to Oliver. More specifically, how gorgeous he was, and how the barista could get him to keep smiling, because dammit, if Oliver's smile wasn't the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen, then he didn't know what was. The tall man's heart melted, just a little, as he realized just what the detective was to him. Even after all of these years, he still loved the redhead, and never realized it.

Spotting the familiar black winderbreaker with yellow stripes, he waves and broke out into a smile. "I'm over here, little minion!" Redmond called, bracing himself as kid turned into a blur that shot straight towards him. Laughing, he sidestepped and scooped up Danny, who was giggling hysterically.

"Red! I didn't know you were picking me up!" The man in question raised his eyebrows, taking in the paint covered seven year old, chuckling.

"Well, surprise, minion, you're stuck with me all day until your Aunt Rose picks you up for that sleepover. And you want to know what I was thinking? That maaaaybe, you and I, Danny, could be lazy and watch Disney. Even order some of that Chinese food that you love, hm?" Seeing the kid squirm with excitement and start to ramble on about his day, he decided he made up his mind on where him and Oliver stood.

The first thing Oliver noticed when he walked in was Roman's eyes. They were tinged red, an obvious sign of tears. And then he tripped. Within earshot of the desk, thankfully. Jake helped the smaller detective up, smiling gratefully and glancing back at Roman and Logan. It took everything Oliver had to not flinch away from the stoic detective. Normally, Detective Sanders never radiated this much anger. It was unnerving. He caught the name "Virgil Raine" as he walked away.

Hastily, he brought up records for the name, and sure enough, there was one currently detained in one of the holding cells. And from the looks of it, this was the wildcat he had heard Roman talking about to Logan. The pieces fit together. Roman's state of mind, Logan's anger. Oliver's deduction? Both were too emotional to deal with this properly. Snatching up the whiteboard and red marker he usually carried around, the tiny detective stalked out of the office, headed straight to the holding cells, lips pursed.

Logan cared a lot for his partner, and was overprotective. Roman was blinded by an infatuation with this gang member. Rather simple. The purple sneakers came to a halt outside a cell, and the blue and silver eyes came into contact with the same eyes from Patton's bakery. An emotionless face met the sneering one, and soon the gang member faltered. Oliver cocked his head, his intense stare causing the criminal to shrink back. He wrote on his whiteboard, showing it to the man in the cell. "Why are you here?"

Apparently, this man wasn't as much of a hardened criminal as he thought because swiped at Oliver through the bars, and immediately went to the back of the cell as the detective easily dodged and continued to stare him down. The red haired man caught the word "traitor" and smiled, waving cheerfully and walking away, knowing full well the look of confusion on the criminal's face.

Oliver could just barely make out sobbing from one of the cells, and peered in. Aha, there you are, little wildcat, Oliver thought, quickly stepping inside as he assessed the condition of this cell's inhabitant. The first thing he noticed was the large, handshaped bruise on the young man's neck. Next, the split lip and bruise that stretched across his cheek. Virgil shrank further against the wall, and the detective could see the terror in his eyes.

So Detective Frey did something that the other didn't expect; he sat right on the floor across from Virgil, legs crossed as the marker flew across the board. "What happened?" it said.

The gang member just eyed him fearfully before curling back up. Oliver's eyes traveled to the wall next to Virgil's head. Specks of blood on the wall. His eyes narrowed, remembering Roman's bandaged hand. Well, this week was just the week for punching walls. He connected the dots quickly. His best guess was that Virgil had planned on selling out the gang, based on the other member's mention of traitors, and said gang member told both Logan and Roman all about how Virgil was using the younger detective. It was all quite obvious. Divide and conquer tactic. A misunderstanding. But Oliver knew that without proof, neither of the other detectives would listen to reason, which, hilariously, was illogical, as Logan would often say. Scribbling on his whiteboard again, he held it out for the other to read, smiling gently.

Virgil stared at the whiteboard in shock and opened his mouth to speak, yet nothing could come out. But the detective saw a glimmer of hope in his eyes and smiled wider, standing up. He fished around in his pocket, bringing forth a cinnamon candy he always kept with him for stress. Unwrapping it, he held it out to the wildcat and, once the other finally took it and popped it into his mouth, smirked warmly, holding a fingering to his lips. Our little secret, it conveyed.

Oliver shivered. It had started to rain a bit ago, and his hiding place wasn't exactly sheltered from the cold, wet drops. Luckily for him, he had managed to sneak into the Scorpions' hideout. Unfortunately, he was now surrounded with no way to escape. They had no idea he was here, but there was no way he'd leave without getting caught. At least, that's how it was.

His phone started to buzz, alerting the convicts. "Who's phone was that?"

"What do you mean? That's not my phone."

"Jimmy I swear to god..."

"It's not me!"

Suddenly, the voices got closer. Fuck.

"Hey, looky here! We got ourselves an intruder! Boss, come look!" Oliver found himself face to face with a drug addicted gang member leering at him. Oliver made and unimpressed face and stood straight, brushing himself off. He had to pretend that this didn't bother him, the fact he was surrounded by more people than he could take on. He thanked the heavens he had time to send the audio file to Logan and hide his phone. He had managed to record enough proof that Virgil was in fact innocent, as well as gather info about the gang itself. The detective wasn't all that sure that the file had gone through, but that wasn't his main concern right now. His main concern was the towering man who was making his way through the criminals. His arms were covered in tattoos of naked women and scorpions, and there was a trashy teardrop tattoo underneath his left eye. Oliver could tell by the way the man carried himself that he was the leader.

The detective fought the urge to take an involuntary step back, opting for a warning snarl. "What are you, a little kitten? Do you really think you're intimidating?" The man stood a good foot and a half above the detective as he mocked him, the laugh carrying a threat. He made a motion and in a blink of an eye, Oliver deflected the blows of two gang members and grounded them. The two groaned on either side of him, and the leader's look darkened.

"Kick his ass, Hector!" a voice yelled from the back, causing a deadly glint to appear in the man's eyes. Uh-oh, this isn't good...

The leader, who was apparently called Hector, grabbed the detective's tie, yanking him close to inspect his face. Rather than reward him with the terror he expected, Oliver spit in his face, a lopsided grin springing to life on his face. His show of defiance only resulted in the man's large hand closing in around his throat.

Oliver was hoisted up off the ground and shoved against the wall behind him. Black dots swarmed his vision and he clawed at the hand that held him captive, attempting to breath. His feet started to kick wildly, fear setting in. One of his feet landed on his captive’s chest, causing the latter to loosen his grip just enough for Oliver to inhale some of that sweet, sweet air.

He gasped as a force spread across his face, dazing him. The pain that set in a few moments later made him realize that Hector had decked him. Taking a command from some unseen signal, the gang set on him like a pack of wolves. The small male let out a small whimper, his mouth running dry as the members pummeled him. Through the pain, he managed to assess the injuries with a (somewhat) clear head. At least two broken ribs and a shit ton of bruises. He felt his hair grabbed and the ground rushed at him. He tried to focus. One concussion.

Vaguely grasping at some form of comprehension, Oliver was dragged upright. His shirt had been ripped slightly during the scuffle, and the members holding him snickered with glee at see what their leader had in store for the intruder.

A flash caught Oliver’s eye. A knife. He settled a defiant gaze on the holder of the weapon, the leader looking back at him with a malicious glint in his eyes. Oliver wouldn’t show him any sort of weakness. He felt the blade along the side of his neck, and in one swift movement, the choker he had been wearing fell to the ground. Blood trickled down, but the detective refused to give in, breathing in and out calmly. “Mm, you’re a tough cookie to crack, aren’t you?” The leader chuckled, pacing in front of the other, like a cat toying with its food.

Oliver just continued to maintain an even, cold gaze, unable to speak, but not really caring. The threatening man in front of him cut open the front of his shirt even more, dragging the knife across his bare chest lightly. “Perfect,” he muttered lovingly.

Pain erupted as the gang leader suddenly started to carve into Oliver’s chest, causing a few whimpers. “What a pretty boy you are. Who knows? Maybe I’ll be able to have some fun after all..."

Finally, the fear Oliver had been keeping at bay crept into his eyes as they widened, the implications obviously as Hector grabbed his face and planted a hard kiss to the detective's lips. He struggled in vain, but as the imposing character grew closer for comfort, he understood that he wasn't getting out of it. He tried to swallow past the lump in his throat, squeezing his eyes shut and gritting his teeth.

Roman glanced down at his phone, not really caring. That day's events had left him warn out and heartbroken, the shattered feeling in his chest aching dully at this point. A quick swipe showed him that it was Oliver. Opening the text, the princely detective frowned, eyebrows knitting together. An address?

Another text.

Detective Prince inhaled sharply. "Logan, get your ass up, we need to leave right now!

"What? Why?" Logan walked from the bathroom, shoulders tense at the tone of his partner's voice.

Roman simply showed him the phone, Logan's face paling before he stiffened, swiftly throwing on his jacket.

Neither of them, in the years they had worked with the mute detective, had they ever received a text like that from Oliver. It meant he was in severe trouble.

The young detective stared down at the text, his mind going a million miles an hour. He felt a hand on his, tugging him along. Roman continued to go through all the worse possible scenarios, hoping to god that none of them was true. Logan sped the whole way there, his knuckles white from gripping the steering wheel.

Oliver: plshlpme

Lights blinded him, making him even dizzier as he dragged himself a couple more inches. He felt arms grab him gently, mentioning something about the hospital. What hospital? Why did he need to go to the hospital? His head rolled back, illiciting a small whimper from the contact with the gash in his head. Why did he hurt so much? He felt arms around him, and he latched on, only feeling terror.

"Shh, Oliver, you're going to be okay..." A couple of drops fell on his face, and sharps gasps filled the car. He wondered why...

There, on the small detective's chest, was a crudely carved scorpion.

OH WOW AN ANGSTY CHAPTER :D I got close to 3000 words with this one because I couldn’t stop writing and I just didn’t want to leave it like that, yknow?