#finally trying out the new dimensions

[leftmysoulbythesideoftheroad]

i’ve watched a few different dnd shows now and concluded that oxventure is still my favorite and also that johnny chiodini is still the dm i most look up to. not to say they're better or worse than other dms, they just have a style i love that i want to imitate in my own games

[alexanderwales]

I'm a big fan of wizards-as-programmers, but I think it's so much better when you lean into programming tropes.

A spell the wizard uses to light the group's campfire has an error somewhere in its depths, and sometimes it doesn't work at all. The wizard spends a lot of his time trying to track down the exact conditions that cause the failure.

The wizard is attempting to create a new spell that marries two older spells together, but while they were both written within the context of Zephyrus the Starweaver's foundational work, they each used a slightly different version, and untangling the collisions make a short project take months of work.

The wizard has grown too comfortable reusing old spells, and in particular, his teleportation spell keeps finding its components rearranged and remixed, its parts copied into a dozen different places in the spellbook. This is overall not actually a problem per se, but the party's rogue grows a bit concerned when the wizard's "drying spell" seems to just be a special case of teleportation where you teleport five feet to the left and leave the wetness behind.

A wizard is constantly fiddling with his spells, making minor tweaks and changes, getting them easier to cast, with better effects, adding bells and whistles. The "shelter for the night" spell includes a tea kettle that brings itself to a boil at dawn, which the wizard is inordinately pleased with. He reports on efficiency improvements to the indifference of anyone listening.

A different wizard immediately forgets all details of his spells after he's written them. He could not begin to tell you how any of it works, at least not without sitting down for a few hours or days to figure out how he set things up. The point is that it works, and once it does, the wizard can safely stop thinking about it.

Wizards enjoy each other's company, but you must be circumspect about spellwork. Having another wizard look through your spellbook makes you aware of every minor flaw, and you might not be able to answer questions about why a spell was written in a certain way, if you remember at all.

Wizards all have their own preferences as far as which scripts they write in, the formatting of their spellbook, its dimensions and material quality, and of course which famous wizards they've taken the most foundational knowledge from. The enlightened view is that all approaches have their strengths and weaknesses, but this has never stopped anyone from getting into a protracted argument.

Sometimes a wizard will sit down with an ancient tome attempting to find answers to a complicated problem, and finally find someone from across time who was trying to do the same thing, only for the final note to be "nevermind, fixed it".

[halfsixwakeup]

It's 2031, and Hermitcraft Season 15 has just started.

DocM77 has created a machine that adds a new dimension. Zero mods, no resource packs, just redstone and glitches. He is using Netherite blocks for his redstone circuits.

JimmySolidarity joined two seasons ago, and has died first every time. He is very careful this season, but other Hermits kill him first on purpose.

TangoTek has built Decked Out 4 in the End. It is roughly four times the size of the main island, and the dragon has been captured and sealed in an obsidian box so that it will make a cool sound effect in one specific room.

SMajor joined five days ago, and he has already been in a fan-favourite duo with half the server. His Ao3 tag has quadrupled in size, and his tumblr tag is full of art vaguely shipping him with just about anyone with a face.

Pearl has been a landscaper, a janitor, a postmaster, an accountant, a bus driver, and a librarian. Running out of public service jobs, she has started showing up at people's houses in real life with teas and coffees. No one's sure how she gets there.

Etho's tissue box has finally disintegrated, and everyone is excitedly recommending him mic stands. He is trying to hide the fact that he has put an exact copy of the box in its place already.

Zombie Cleo has become so adept at manipulating armor stands that they can perfectly recreate literally anything. Including things that by all rights should not exist. New viewers occasionally complain about lovecraftian nightmares and mental issues after seeing them. Cleo and their older viewers laugh like it's an inside joke.

[bonnetsharks]

My nerdy dad stumbles across Um! Actually on yt and becomes a fan

He starts watching some other dropout stuff (breaking news, game changer), “wow, that redheaded guy is really funny”

I tell him that those are the same people who make the dnd show I’ve loved for YEARS, but he brushes off my recommendation of D20 because of how long the episodes are and because he’s never been into Dnd

Like 7 months later he finally plays BG3. I receive daily ramblings about his character (he made a Druid and put all his xp into animal handling so he could befriend as many dogs as possible).

Falls in love with the roleplay aspect of the game (“it’s like I’m writing a book! They keep putting my guy into situations and I get to figure out what he’d do!”)

Yesterday, ten months after I first offered it to him, he finally asks for my Dropout login so he can try Dimension 20 on a long car ride

In less than 24 hours, he has listened to 8 hours worth and planned an entire dnd party with the other teachers in his department

I have never been so proud

This man spent my entire childhood indoctrinating me into his obscure interests and now I get to do it back

[mutable-manifestation]

Okay but-

dp & dc are in different dimensions AU + Danny looks a lot like Superman & Bruce AU + post-Phantom reveal

Jack Fenton ends up in DC-verse - either because he got hit by a ghost attack or messed up a new invention or fell through a natural portal while exploring the zone with the fam - and appears in the middle of Metropolis right next to Superman just after the end of a fight.

The thing about Jack is that he's not just tall, he's Broad. He absolutely dwarfs Superman - who starts floating because who is this where did he come from are we about to fight and why does he look so familiar???

And Jack sees this guy who looks for all the world like he'd imagine Danny would in his 30s. And the guy is floating.

The symbol on his chest is different, but if Danny made a hero costume for his human form of course it would be different!

And Jack knows about time travel, so he just thinks he got thrown through time. So he's just-

"Son!" *hugs*

Superman: uh-

Jack: You've grown so much! I always knew you'd get the tall genes, sonny!

Superman, realizing this guy looks startlingly like Jor-El: D...dad?!? Wh- how are you here!?

Jack: Ahaha! You're old man seems to have been thrown through time! Not to worry! I'll find a way back, or my name's not J- *gets cut off by a loud explosion in the background*

Superman, realizes he didn't start cleanup & a robot just its fuel tank on fire: IhavetogowaithereI'llberightback!!!

Jack: Go get 'em [Danno - name incomprehensible due to another explosion. For reference - while an explosion wouldn't normally block Supes' hearing well enough, but these are bc either there's kryptonite nearby now or there was and his hearing was damaged while he was weak and is still healing. roll with it it's funny]!

While waiting, Jack goes to grab snacks from a nearby convenience store. He sees "Danny" when he's about to leave and Kool-Aid Mans through the wall in his excitement. This does not help anyone realize the misunderstanding

Jack is absolutely loading him down with snacks and drinks and "look they had blue raspberry flavor!" because that's Danny's favorite but Superman just thinks he really wants him to try it

he's also showering him in praise. Just "you gave that robot what-for!" and "my boy the hero!" and "I'm so proud of you!" and on and on like slinging an arm over his shoulder and Superman is trying very hard not to cry bc yeah there's the Jor-El in the fortress of solitude but that's just an AI. It's not really his dad.

And now his real dad is here and proud of him!!!

Anyway one tearful reunion and a complete failure to clear things up later, Jack is in the Watchtower. Superman wants to ask him to stay in the future/join their team and wants help explaining the fate of Krypton (because his father wants to go back. this is clearly a Jor-El who does not yet know of his home planet's fate)

Jack Fenton has a habit of declaring his name for all to hear. Supes gets his hearing all healed up, but now Jack just gets interrupted.

"*something* or my name isn't J-!"

Someone enters the room

"Nice to meet you I'm- *deep gasp* is that a [technology]!?"

It's kind of heartbreaking for Clark, seeing just how carefree and happy his father was, before the fate of Krypton weighed so heavy on his conscience.

Hey it’s important to me that you know this Jack Fenton is six inches taller than Superman

Superman is 6’3

Jack Fenton is 6’9

Jack Fenton can fully big spoon Superman like a delicate wee lad

You’re welcome

[autistic-shaiapouf]

Finally I can almost be seen in public with my laptop again

[radiance1]

When the Justice League heard of Phantom, they believed they had to act quickly. Based on what they were told by the GIW, a branch of the government they had no knowledge of previously (Batman is working to correct that), the ghost was dangerous and extremely powerful.

A ghost that terrorized a small town that they GIW have tried-and failed- on numerous occasions to send back to the Ghost Zone. The GIW wouldn't have come to the Justice League for help if it were just that, but based on what they have claimed Phantom has achieved an inexplicable rise in power after having met with the King of ghosts himself.

If what they say is true, then ghosts could potentially invade and cause an all-out war with humanity that the Justice League would rather much avoid thank you.

Negotiations for peace or understanding have been repeatedly rejected and the GIW has been led to believe that Phantom has done something to the Fenton couple. The leading ecto-biologists in the world, years of research suddenly wiped clean off and acting much more cordial towards the ghost.

A complete 180.

So much so that you could even claim them to have been mind controlled. Which isn't outside the realm of possibility due to ghosts having an innate ability to overshadow others and control them.

Perhaps even the entire town has fallen under Phantom's control. Even another ghost, who had just been recently opposed to Phantom, has fallen under his control.

So the Justice League had to act fast.

---

Danny was fucked.

He could tell that very, very well. He still didn't have his entire new... dragon thing... under control very well, mostly sticking a half human like form. His powers were stronger yes but he couldn't really control them well.

Which is kinda why he's fucked.

Danny has never heard about the Justice League before, mostly because he had recently found out that apparently Amity Park was isolated. Like, extremely. Basically it's own little world cut off from the rest.

So when they appeared with the GIW he thought, hey, maybe they were finally changing their white suit shtick.

He didn't expect them to be extremely well-trained, have supernatural abilities or magic. Along with their usual tech well.

Yea.

Danny was fucked.

And he was very, very scared.

He's already died once but that didn't mean he wanted to die again, and he knows that he would probably be heavily experimented on if the GIW actually got their hands on him.

He was alone. He was surrounded. He was outnumbered. And he was oh, so very scared.

His family and friends had already fallen (thankfully not dead, just unconscious he thinks) and Vlad was occupied elsewhere, also fighting.

So Danny was alone.

No one would be coming to help him.

So what did he do?

He opened his mouth and did something he didn't do often. Despite that he could see that they somewhat recognized what he was about to do and tried to find cover.

Danny wasn't aiming at them.

He pulled his head back, mouth aimed at the sky.

Danny wailed.

It was waaaay more powerful than he had originally thought, so he was glad he aimed it at the sky.

As soon as it was over he felt drained, swaying on his feet and trying to use his tail to steady himself and not fall off his own claws.

They didn't know what was happening.

Danny just hoped it worked.

---

Neither the Justice League nor the GIW knew why Phantom shot one of his most powerful attacks up into the sky, but they did see the opportunity it presented.

Phantom was weak. Looking like he would fall off his own feet and fall unconscious.

They had to act quickly.

But before they could, from right where Phantom had wailed into the sky.

It cracked.

And continued to crack.

Until a large hole appeared in the sky, leading into a dimension of endless green.

The Infinite Realms.

They believed Phantom was trying to retreat.

They were wrong.

Two roars came from the portal, forcing everyone to cover their ears.

Then.

Something came out of the portal.

A long, serpentine dragon flowed out, flying around the area of the crack before descending down and around Phantom.

Then.

A giant claw grabbed onto the edge of the crack. Pushing against it until it broke, forcing the hole bigger and bigger as a much, much larger dragon stepped out. Standing protectively over the serpentine dragon and Phantom.

A large crown wrapped in flame floating about its head signified its status.

The Ghost King.

[monstersholygrail]

You spread yourself as wide as you can, not knowing how broad your Ghost bf is, but wanting to give him enough room as he fucks his cock into your weeping walls.

The days breeze blows in through the open window, providing a bit of relief from the firey heat that runs along your skin as your Ghost bf forces more and more orgasms out of your battered cunt.

You whine, writhing against the bed as his massive dick stretches you out. Your pussy flutters around seemingly nothing, yet that wet squelch echos throughout the room with every rough thrust of your bfs hips.

Hands squeeze tightly at the sheets below you, needing to grab onto something, needing something to ground you as your bf takes you to new dimensions of pleasure. A ragged moan leaves you, hips now jolting with each plunge of his cock.

“Fuck! I-I wanna touch you. Want you so bad— God!” You exclaim, throat raw from your cries of ecstasy. The dull feeling of your hips meeting causes your head to spin.

Reaching out blindly behind you, your hand snags onto the sheer white curtain of your window. Through the fucked out fog within your mind, you slowly form an idea.

Before Ghost bf can react, you throw the curtain outward and as soon as it catches onto an unseen form, you wrap your arms around it and pull him closer. A low moan leaving you as his cock slips deeper inside of you.

A sharp gasp moves past your lips, eyes narrowing, swearing you can also almost see his features through the material. In his shock, Ghost bf stutters in his pace. Feeling your arms around him would’ve been enough to make him blush if he still could.

Spurned on by this new discovery, Ghost bf starts pounding into you, the pleasure of his length rutting its way along your walls now heightened by your touch on his skin and slight ability to see him. But you need more as you feel yourself about to reach your peak.

Pulling him further down, you kiss him without hesitation, your lips fitting together like two puzzle pieces. The thin curtain only adding to the tingles moving down your spine.

Ghost bf’s moan moves through the breeze as always, yet this time you can feel it too. Ghost bf immediately cums again as yours lips brush deeply against each other. You whimper as his spectral-cum shoots inside of you, body twitching before you follow right after, exploding all over his cock and your bed.

You both rock steadily against each other, drawing out your orgasms as you make out passionately. Not wanting to separate for a moment now that you’ve finally gotten to taste each other in this way.

But your bfs ghost cock can’t plug you up. Can’t keep you stuffed full of his cum so that not even a drop drips from your delectable pussy. But with these new findings your bf can’t pass up the opportunity to try. To finally force his cum to stay deep inside you.

More whimpers leave you as your bf pulls away and slips the curtain off his head. They’re quickly interrupted by a choking gasp as you feel him stuff as much of the curtain inside you as the curtain rod will allow. You both look down at your pussy with bated breath. When nothing leaks out, you smile and fall back down on the bed.

“That was… a good idea,” you say through breathless laughter. Not being able to help but grind into the texture of the curtain and stimulating yourself all over again.

Ghost bfs eyes darken as he looks down at you, wondering just what else that curtain can give you both access to. His cock twitches as it starts to come back to life.

[leeechin]

(ꗃ) cat and mouse [nerd sunghoon] ! ⋆ ›  ◟⊹

after sleeping with the cute quiet dork that sat nearby you and your friend during lunch, you find yourself playing silly games with him, due to a miscommunication. [wc: 2.5k]

CONTENT: college au! sunghoon and jay are big losers in this lol. nerd!sunghoon x fem!reader, 2010s era :p | mdni.

WARNINGS: lots of teasing, handjob, sunghoon is pretty switchy but more dom leaning, unprotected sex (big no), bigdick!hoon, fingering, slight degradation, ass slapping, etc.

lee’s note: this is a continuation of my most popular nerd!hoon fic here ! this can be read as a stand-alone!! gaeul from ive is yn’s bff NOT sunghoons dog LOL.

“you should’ve known it was a one time thing..” jay murmurs to sunghoon, who wasn’t focusing on their round of star craft, instead sulking on the couch with his legs crossed. “someone like her wouldn’t do a second time with someone like us— you to be exact.” adding on.

you had the best time of your life, choosing to hook up with the cute quiet dork unexpectedly. it was planned by you, it was just never expected of you for the plan to be executed perfectly. and you weren’t going to let another opportunity slip beneath you.

“she agreed to let me take her on a date though! and it’s only been two days.. maybe she’s busy.” he exasperates in response, opening his phone to see no new messages from you in his inbox.

“orrr maybe she wants you to text her first instead of her..” jay suggests, throwing the control at sunghoon to play the game again, sunghoon shrugs it off, putting his attention back to the next round of star craft.

you were indeed busy.. rambling to gaeul and your other roommates about the other night with sunghoon. raving about how he was ‘so so good.’ completely oblivious that you not texting him, or expecting him to text you.. is causing a minor miscommunication.

now, being back on campus, you were hoping to catch sunghoon at the campus cafeteria, and throw him teasing glances. strutting confidently in your cute denim shorts and low cut tee, you sit yourself across gaeul at the usual table. and looking up, you notice the pause in sunghoon’s movements, pathetically dropping his fork and pretending it was an accident, coughing so fake.

you let out a small giggle, kicking your feet back and forth underneath the table, forgetting that your friend was across you. “helloooooo? earth to y/n?” gaeul waves her hand in your face, causing you to finally blink.

“god, he’s such a loser.” gaeul points out, turning around to see sunghoon, try to not so obviously peek at you from his canned drink, attempting to hide his eyes from staring at you. “a hot loser though.” you correct, going back into a daydream like trance, thinking about the past weekend you spent with him.

flipping your phone open, you shoot a message to sunghoon, you hear the clatter of the metal can he was drinking from, seeing how fast he scrambled to flip open his own phone. was this really the same guy who railed you into the next dimension a couple days ago?

[you]

you know, i could see you staring at me

[hoonie (^з^)-♡]

What? I don’t know what you’re talking about.

[you]

sure sureeeeeeee

you were surely so quick to open your phone

and dropping your little drink that made a loud sound from hitting the floor, okay though! (=´∀｀)

[hoonie (^з^)-♡]

Why haven’t you reached out to me since that night?

Did I do something wrong?

—

sunghoon didn’t beat around the bush. you wanted to apologize over and over, feeling guilt flood your body for not taking the initiative, especially for someone like sunghoon, who mainly kept to himself with one friend.

but something ignited a plan of mischief in your mind, wanting to tease the fuck out of sunghoon until he ruined you completely. the urge to tests the waters until you were in the hands of his mercy. looking up from your phone, you throw sunghoon a small grin, causing him to nearly drop his phone over a pile of rice on his lunch tray.

“just go get him in a room for christ’s sake, stop eye-fucking him infront of me.” gaeul scoffs, gathering all her things together to head to her next lecture, waiting for you to follow pursuit. “go without me gaeul.”, she raises an eyebrow at you, but then sees how your gaze is stuck on sunghoon who seems to be minding his own business now, eating the food on his lunch tray.

“mind if i take a seat here?” you ask sunghoon, making him startle at the sudden sound of your voice, eyes attempting to only focus on your face, rather than the sight of your juicy tits tight against your shirt.

“yeah.” he mutters, returning to finish the last of food on his tray. “why so silent..?” you fake pout, seating yourself across from him, leaning forward slightly.

“whyareyouavoidingme.” sunghoon quickly speaks, you’re unable to catch what he was saying. “hoonie, what?” you giggle, hand reaching under the table to grab at his knee, feeling how it tensed up under your touch.

“not in the cafeteria, please.” sunghoon flinches, trying not to draw attention by avoiding to have a big reaction, feeling your hand squeeze at his sensitive knee, bumping his knee up to remove your hand. you giggle and use both of your hands to straighten up your shirt.

“answer my question, hoon.” you repeat coyly, leaning forward across the table, sunghoon looks around at the people sitting at the surrounding tables, worried they’re catching onto what’s happening between you two.

“can we— talk somewhere else— please.” he stutters, looking down to hide his now flustered face. “hmmmm.. okay.” you contemplate, looking around the direction sunghoon was. “no one’s looking at us, hoon.” adding on with a playful smile painted across your face.

sunghoon opens his mouth to say something, but you interrupted his sentence that hasn’t even started; “oops! didn’t pay attention to the time! i’ll drop by your place at some time soon!”, gathering all of your things as his eyes blink rapidly.. so dorky, and so hot at the same time.

“but what if i happen to be busy..” sunghoon manages to slip out, seeing how you got up and was ready to leave him behind at his lunch table. “i’m sure you won’t be.”

sunghoon was convinced, no he was aware you were playing games with him now. every time you self-invited yourself to his table, right when he’s about to ask you if you want to study together, you leave abruptly. and it doesn’t help with you sending him suggestive messages on his phone while he’s around jay to stir things up.

“what game are you trying to play with me?” sunghoon blurts out, looking down at his hands on his lap, fidgeting nervously as you sat down on the lunch table seat across from him for the fourth day in a row.

“i don’t know what you’re talking about.” you fake acting confused, playing with a strand of your hair in between your fingers. sunghoon sighs in defeat, only knowing you are continuing this silly little game of yours.

“i think you do.” he frowns in response, moving on to eating the bun he had in his hand. “how long are you going to keep going on with this?” sunghoon adds on to his sentence. you sigh in defeat, sitting yourself properly.

“don’t you enjoy taking to me hoon?” you frowned, doe eyes blinking at sunghoon’s as you await an answer.

“i do. but before we can even talk properly, you leave. how long are you going to keep this game of yours up?” sunghoon finishes the last of his bun before crossing his arms together, seeming to be less nervous and shy now.

“i guess i’m done..” you sheepishly replied, trying to read sunghoon’s unreadable expression. “what’s on your mind, hoon?” you ask, noticing the silence that filled between you two for a good 10 seconds.

“you know.. we’re supposed to be studying..” sunghoon comments, seeing how you crawled on his mattress seductively to seat yourself over his lap. “but what’s the fun in only studying hoon?”

“you said you needed help on— fuck.” sunghoon groans, sentence cutting off, throwing his head back with his glasses tilting lopsided, feeling you shift on his lap, back against the headboard of his bed, as your hands clumsily fumble at the zipper of his jeans to pull out his painfully hard cock that has been straining against the tight constraints of his boxers.

“is this what you wanted from me this whole time.?” you speak softly, gathering saliva to slip past your lips, onto the center of your palm, enveloping his base around your hand, gasping when you forgot how big he was when you looked down at your hand jerking his base slowly. you found the sight infront of you to be so pleasing.

seeing sunghoon’s tilted glasses, moving your free hand to put it back in place. “stop playing with me, y/n.” his voice strains, his large hands finding purchase on both sides of your waist. he sits himself up, looking at your irresistible glossy lips that slightly parted as you concentrated on working your hand at his base.

leaning forward to place his lips over yours, you whine against him from the sudden action, hand slipping off his thick cock as your hands run under his shirt, nails trickling at sunghoon’s soft skin causing him to hiss at the contact. you pull away from the kiss to pull his shirt off and over his head, along with him removing yours, throwing the articles of clothing everywhere in his neatly organized room. your lips return to tangling messily along with his, the smacking sounds filling the silence.

your lips trail down his exposed collarbone, leaving soft marks as you attempt to go down lower, feeling him stop you, a soft whine leaving your lips when you feel one of sunghoon’s hand grasp a good handful of your ass.

“this game of yours is ending right now.” sunghoon speaks lowly, gently removing the remaining material of your undergarments, taking in the sight of how your naked body looked so good, even with the dim lighting in his room— the lamp being the only source of light.

“hurry up then hoon..! oh.” you moan at the feeling of his fingers rubbing against your sensitive clit, moving to circle at your dripping entrance, teasing you by only pushing in his fingertips a few times, before plunging two of his thick digits past it. the warmth of your walls clamping down tightly from simply just his fingers.

“you can still barely even take it.” sunghoon chuckles, his free hand brushing his strands of hair back. moving his other hand, flicking his wrist at an angle that had you seeing all sorts of colors, relishing in the feeling of his fingers reaching the spots yours could never reach.

“please hoonie..” you whine, nails digging deep into his shoulders, holding onto him tightly to avoid falling off of his lap with the sensation of his fingers dragging in and out of you rapidly, crumbling apart when you feel the familiar sensation of your orgasm approaching.

despite the advantage you might’ve had in your position of being seated over him, you were powerless, taking in what he gave you, not seeming to mind loosing dominance you once had over him a little bit ago.

“you’re close aren’t you?” sunghoon raises an eyebrow, seeing how you grinded your hips slightly, to take in his digits even further, your eyes looking down to see how well you sucked his fingers in. “mm— yes please hoon i— what the fuck—!” you protest, feeling him pull his fingers out, one of his hands holding you still in place.

you squirm around on his lap, trying to escape his grasp, gasping loudly when you feel his hand smack your ass, the soft flesh jiggling from the touch. “can’t you be more patient for me now?” sunghoon smirks, flipping you onto your back, leaning over the side to reach his drawer for a condom when you grab at his wrist to stop him.

“want you so bad, hoon.” you strain out, face flushed with desire and neediness. you hear sunghoon let out a deep chuckle in response, stroking himself at the sight of your body splayed on his mattress, legs spread.

“you make me wait several days, but you can’t even wait a few minutes.” he scoffs jokingly, pulling one of your legs to wrap around his waist, aligning his tip to your entrance, wasting no more time to slide in easily- due to your wetness that trickled down your thighs.

you hear sunghoon let out a long groan at how your walls once again clamped around him tightly, glasses falling off his face and somewhere beside him on the bed, slowly bottoming out and relishing the feeling of your warm velvety walls. “fuckkk. you feel even better without a condom.” he groans, finding a pace with his thrusts, his cock dragging so perfectly and so deep into you to where you couldn’t even form proper words.

“s’ so good-!” you manage to slip out, palms pressed flat to hold tightly onto sunghoon’s back as you try to keep up with his fast, merciless pace, cock deliciously hitting repeatedly in that one spot in you that sent you spiraling.

“not talking now? had me playing a game like i was a cat and you were the fucking mouse.” sunghoon grunts, eyes meeting yours as you let out a small whimper at his words, clenching around his thick cock, causing him to let out a groan at the feeling, closing his eyes to take in the feeling of not having a condom wrapped around him. deciding to bring your other leg to wrap around his waist, moving to push the back of your thighs to practically fold you in half. you feel him press against the soft bulge of your stomach from how deep he is inside.

your high-pitched moans and mewls of pleasure fill sunghoon’s room when you take what he’s giving you, eyes rolling back as you feel yourself reaching your orgasm, arms wrapping sunghoon’s neck as he leans forward to kiss you, his lips muffling your loud moans.

“inside please.” you whisper, moving your legs to wrap around sunghoon’s waist again, watching how his thick eyebrows furrow in concentration when he twitches inside you, hips moving sloppily as he’s not too far from you— eventually stilling his movements to fill you up with his creamy white essence, seeing how you shut your eyes tightly as your chest heaves heavily, letting yourself go, whining when you feel him slip out.

“you’re nasty.” you giggle, seeing sunghoon return with a warm towel to help swipe up the mess on you. “you indulged into it, you’re not any different from me, y/n.” he laughs in response, throwing the towel into his hamper, laying himself down beside you as he pulls his boxers back on. you’re wearing one of his t-shirts, blanket pulled over as you’re ready to doze off.

“so when are you going to take me out on that date you suggested the last time i was here?” you smile, eyes half lidded as you melt into the embrace of his bigger frame.

“whenever you stop playing those silly little games.”

the both of you releasing a fit of laughter, feeling yourself slowly drift off to sleep, thinking about the next time you’re gonna have this with sunghoon.

hai i wrote this for @00kittenz and @pshbites ily both sm, i’m so glad we are friends bcuz of this silly little app. 💓💓

tag: @aewon

[kettlefire]

Prepare for the unexpected. (DPxDC)

Everyone knew about the reign of Pariah Dark. Even those who did not dabble in those realms have heard the tale of the tyrant. A power-hungry man who ruled over the dead with an iron fist.

Following the rise of Pariah Dark, his realm had been effectively cut off from communication. Many mystics and magic users knew better than to open the door of nightmares that could arise if Pariah Dark's reach went further than his own realm.

Except, the universe had plans to bring the realm of the dead back into the cards.

A new opponent, one that had all of Earth's heroes scrambling for options. A being with powers of a god over weather, destruction was on the horizon. A world ending threat.

It's the only reason the Justice League was doing this. In a deep bunker, far from close civilization as a precaution, the heroes looked on with grim expressions.

The world was already being threatened. It would be destroyed regardless of what the league did. So it only made sense to make the last ditch effort. To summon someone strong enough to defeat the threat.

No one wanted to do it. No one wanted to be the one to pull the realm of the dead back to the living. The consequences were untold if this succeeded. If Pariah Dark was freed and defeated the threat, whose to say he won't want control?

That was a problem for later. For the aftermath. For now, the league could only watch on with bated breath as Constantine completely the summon ritual.

They watched on as the shadows in the room seemed to darken and grow. As the sigil sputtered to life with a glow that was growing increasingly brighter. A sudden gust of wind rushed through the room, the temperature began to drop with eaching ticking second.

And then it was all gone.

The room stood perfectly still. Just as it had been moments before. Nothing changed. No giant king standing before them, no sign that the ritual worked.

The room stood deadly still for another beat before the murmurs started. The team trying to make sense of the situation, figure out what went wrong.

Constantine swore up and down that this was the correct ritual, taking offense that they would even think the problem was on his end. It only made it better when it finally happened.

A loud sound ripped through the room, pulling everyone's attention back to the summoning circle. Just in time to see a tear appear in the space above the circle.

A thin tear that ran the length of eight feet. The fabric of the dimension seems to curl at the edges, pulling back to reveal a deep glowing swirl of greens. A dark gloved hand reached through, fingers curling around the edge of the tear, stretching it even further.

A portal. The ritual had worked, but there had been a delay. A delay that had every hero nerves on edge. Each team member tensed, weapons at the ready as they watched the being stretch the portal to the right size.

Then, a foot stepped out with a heavy thud. A dark boot that looked otherworldly despite its similarity to mortal clothing. A deep black that seemed never-ending. A second foot quickly followed before a full body emerged from the portal.

Not many people in the room have ever seen Pariah Dark, let alone know what to expect. Based on what Constantine and Zatara had said, this wasn't Pariah Dark.

A man had stepped out of the portal, standing at almost seven feet tall, and built like a brick house. One glance at the glowing white hair, deadly red eyes, and shard teeth was enough to know this being was not to be messed with.

But there was no giant show of armor or royal garbs. There is no large crown at the top of his head or jewelry from the infinite realms laced around his neck.

Instead, the man stood before them in combat boots, worn-in ripped jeans, a graphic t-shirt, and a spiked leather jacket. Despite his almost normal clothing choice, the man's jacket seemed to be a never-ending depth of the dark night sky. If one was to look closely enough, the cosmos could almost be made out in the sea of darkness.

None of that would have prepared them for when the man spoke. His tone sounded more bored than anything as he took a step forward.

"Oh, so now you need the help of the dead." The man had spoken, running a hand through his hair. When Batman took a step forward to speak, the man raised a hand. Immediately commanding silence in the single gesture. "I'm on babysitting duty and have yet to have a cup of coffee. I'll be right back."

Just like that, both the man and portal vanished into thin air. Leaving behind a group of stunned heroes. Not only was the man not Pariah Dark, but he was also supposedly babysitting.

"Did that just-"

The Flash had been the first voice to speak up, his eyes trained on where the man had once stood. Except he had barely made it through the first few words before the man was suddenly back.

The man that now had a child hanging off his shoulders and another teen being held up by his scruff. Unlike the man, these kids looked human.

Too human for Bruce's liking. The dark black hair and bright blue eyes had every heroes eyes flickering to Batman for just the briefest moment.

"This isn't fair! I'm not even the king. Why do I have to be here!" The teenager had been complaining the moment the man had reappeared. Arms crossed tight over his chest and seemingly used to being held dangling. "Besides, who brings kids to a show down! Wait til I tell mom about this."

"Aw, come on, Danny. This is gonna be fun!!" The younger girl seemed in much better spirits than the teen, Danny. She had climbed up the large man, sitting on his shoulders and resting her arms on the mess of glowing hair. "It's like take your kids to work day! Ooo, Dan! Can we fight too!?"

Unlike the two kids, the man looked purely exhausted and annoyed. The man, Dan, dropped Danny like a sack of potatoes as he took a long drink from the travel cup in his hand.

It didn't take a genius to recognize the look of an exhausted parent in Dan's expression. A look many of the league members were well acquainted to. A look that even had Batman grimacing with sympathy.

"Can it, little shits. You two were grounded, remember." Dan had growled at the kids before shifting his focus back on the team of heroes before them. His glowing eyes set in a deadly glare. "Pariah Dark isn't coming, and he never will. He's been dethroned and banished. We're the best you've got."

A summoning that started with a group of on edge and scared heroes looking for the ghost king, ended in a way no one expected.

No one was even sure if it made any sense. They weren't sure if they should feel hopeful or in despair.

Because truly, what was a ghostly man with two seemingly human children against a godlike foe with the control over the weather?

The unspoken question of power and ability seemed to vanish following Dan downing the metal travel cup of coffee, and crushing it in his fist.

He tossed it to the side, straighting up his posture as he looked over the heroes. Dan might not be a hero, but he's been playing family for too long.

An almost feral, bloodhungry grin spread across the man's face, sharp fangs on full display. The look made the man suddenly look even less human. He looked closer to a demon from the pits of hell rather than the exhausted parent he looked just a few seconds ago.

"Point me in the direction of this bastard. It's been too long since I let loose and had some fun."

[helloilikepurple]

DC X DP - DeAged

The Nasty Burger explosion took a lot from Danny.

Stopping Dan meant nothing when Danny lost everything. His friends, his parents, his sister, his teacher - all gone. Danny, desperate to not become Dan, fled. He would not let Vlad destroy the only thing he had left; himself. He didn't turn human again if he could avoid it. Let Danny Fenton die with his family.

He did what he could, trying to keep it all together. Avoid Vlad. Catch havoc-wreaking ghosts. Try to not have a panic attack every time he saw his reflection. FentonWorks became out-of-bounds. No one was sure how to turn off the portal or any of the house's defence mechanisms so it was taped up instead.

Danny kept the GIW away. They wanted his parents' research, even if they had to bend the law to get it. Danny would not let them have it. Never.

But the GIW was persistent and Danny weak from nearly two months of being Phantom and nothing else. He was so tired. Tired from grieving, from fighting, from wandering around, completely lost and alone.

The GIW got a lucky shot in. Danny went down. He woke up, still ghost, somewhere white. He'd trained himself not to have to turn back. He was grateful he did.

The GIW studied him. Danny did not have the energy to fight back. The will to survive. Curled up in his cell, bloody and becoming less human with every passing day, Clockwork finally intervened.

He could not let the future High King wither away into nothing.

With Nocturn's help, he whisked him away. His world was dying anyway. With no one to maintain the portal, it would soon overload and explode. The radiation would kill all life on Earth, leaving nothing behind, and taking with it the potential for new life. One world among infinite realities meant nothing. But Danny, as High King, is a singularity. A unique existence, only found in one reality. Clockwork, for the sake of everything that lives and dies, could not let Danny fade away.

Danny slept at the Far Frozen, dreaming of his family, his friends, and the stars he would one day rule over. He healed, wounds knitting together into scars and fractured core slowly, ever so slowly, repairing itself. A future Ancient, bound to protect all that is and will be, was bound to be very badly hurt from such a loss.

Clockwork only wished he could have done more, but to remove Danny too early would have spelt disaster worse than the deaths of billions. This boy would someday be someone he'd proudly call his grandson. Seeing that future alone was enough to make his own core ache for the young one.

The Infinite Realms wept for its child, still but a babe yet having suffered so much. It embraced its future King, blessing him with its loyalty and adoration. The ghosts of the realms, spread far and wide over distant realities, timelines and worlds, felt the loss too.

Danny healed, unaware of how loved and precious he was to so many - how far he was from alone. The dead's sudden quiet unsettled many. Enemies froze in the silent mourning, animosity forgotten. Raging wars came to abrupt ends. So many, unable to bear the ever-reaching, unidentifiable pain in the air killed themselves. Good, kind people cried alone.

Magic users, like Constantine and Zatanna, hid, waiting out the Infinite Realm's despair for its child. No one spoke of it, for fear of disrespecting the dimension between dimensions. But they hid, and they waited, and they couldn't help but worry for themselves and everything and everyone else.

Danny got a lot of visitors. Ancients, regular ghosts, crowded around his bed, gifting him blessings and support. Danny slept, he healed, and his world died, taking with it all he'd known. He wouldn't remember or know of any of this when he woke  - even the memories of his pleasant dreams will have left him. He'll awaken and think himself entirely alone.

But he'll know, someday.

Clockwork will make sure of it.

---

Danny doesn't know where he is or who he is.

He has a vague idea. His name. His life and his death. But so much is so distant, like impressions on sand, washed away by the ocean. He knows he should be bigger. He knows this isn't home. He knows there is no home anymore.

He knows there are people he misses, but he doesn't know who they are or where they've gone. He knows so little yet so much. White walls and orange hair, green (toxic, writhing green) and hazmat suits, white and black and orange and blue. Expensive, Packers-branded cologne, burning flesh, the scream of an alarm and laughter and fear and hope and love and pain and loss. Disjointed flashes, snippets of another life.

And this isn't familiar - this city and these people. These crowded, filthy streets aren't home, but there's no home anymore so of course they aren't. And maybe Danny should be afraid. He doesn't know where he is, or how he got here. There are people, so tall, walking around him not sparing him a glance. It's loud and smelly and so much to process all at once.

But Danny doesn't care because he's so tired, and he wants nothing more than to curl up in bed and sleep the day away. But he doesn't have a home, so obviously he doesn't have a bed either. He looks around for somewhere else to sleep, rubbing at his chest subconsciously as he does.

There, a building, on the other side of the road. The windows are tinted, but the doors open and Danny, through the crowds and passing traffic, catches a glimpse of what has to be a couch. Maybe the people that own the building will let him sleep on their couch for a little bit.

So he crosses the street, sticking close to the legs of some lady with skinny heels that go tap-tap-tap so the cars don't go because they can't see him. The lady turns to go a different way after but it's okay because Danny is in front of the building now.

He pushes the door open and slips inside. It's quieter inside, and warmer. Danny wasn't cold outside but in here there's a nice heat that makes him feel even sleepier. He looks around at the fancy chairs and potted plants and lights, and is happy to see there are couches. Long couches, with lots of pillows and space for him to spread out.

He walks up to the desk. He's too short to see over it, and it makes him kind of angry because he's sure he's supposed to be taller. But he figures maybe he remembers wrong because people don't just shrink. Except, he's a halfa so maybe ghosts do?

"Hello?"

There's a lady here too, behind the desk, but unlike the one he followed across the street she has short, curly hair. Danny wonders if she's wearing skinny heels too. Leaning his head back, he can see her look up, glance around, and then look back down.

Danny pouts. Did she not see him?

"Hello?"

He waves an arm this time, reaching as high as he can to catch her attention. She finally sees him, eyes widening in surprise. "Oh, sorry! Hello." She has a nice voice.

"Your voice is pretty."

She smiles, and Danny decides her smile is nice too. "Why thank you. You have a pretty voice too. Is there something I can help you with?"

"Can I please sleep on your couch? Just for a little bit."

"Of course you can. Would you like a blanket? I could fetch one for you from the staff room."

Danny shakes his head. "I'm okay. Thank you."

"Alright. But if you change your mind, do tell me."

"You're very nice."

"Thank you, but it's really no problem. Not much to do today anyway."

"You should sleep too then. Sleep is good."

She giggles. "That is a very good idea. I just might take your advice." Danny nods. He has lots of good ideas. "Okay. I'm gonna' go nap now. Bye-bye."

"Sleep well."

There are a few couches, and for a bit Danny's not sure which one to sleep on. He chooses the one with the most pillows. It's very comfy, and the pillows are nice too. He puts one under his head and hugs another, curling up around it. He falls asleep in seconds.

-

When a toddler with black and blue eyes asked to sleep on one of the couches on in the reception hall of Wayne enterprises, May had assumed he was one of Bruce's boys. He certainly fit the type Gotham's favourite playboy liked to adopt, and it wasn't unusual for his wards to show up out of the blue.

Once she found Tim Drake passed out on the floor under her desk. Apparently, he'd been hiding from Dick who was visiting from Blüdhaven and forgot to bring his coffee with him, consequently falling asleep while he waited for her to arrive so he could ask her to go pick some up for him. That had been an interesting Thursday morning. 

On another memorable occasion, Cass, Bruce's only official daughter, and her girlfriend Steph had shown up, said hi, went upstairs, then came back down after about an hour, giggling as they ran out with a wave goodbye. Not even ten minutes later, Bruce himself stumbled out of the elevator, absolutely covered in purple glitter. May remembers raising an eyebrow and asking if Bruce wanted her to have another suit brought in.

He'd ended up collapsing on one of the couches with an exhausted sigh, and said he'd have Alfred pick him up instead. He left a sparkly trail behind him when he walked, and the couch he sat on had to be replaced because, even after numerous cleaning attempts, no one could get the glitter out. He had glitter in his hair for months afterwards.

So, May hadn't bat an eye when the little boy came in. Well aware Bruce had several meetings scheduled that day, she sent him an email saying one of his kids was taking a nap in the reception hall and resolved to look out for the boy herself. Throughout the day, she made sure to check on him often, making sure no one picked him up ran (this was Gotham after all).

He slept soundly for most of her work day, barely shifting. She ended up putting a blanket on him herself during her lunch break and leaving him a water bottle and little snack for when he woke up. She also made sure security kept an eye on him whenever she left for whatever reason.

It was well into the afternoon when Bruce finally replied to her email and asked if his kid was still sleeping downstairs. She said yes, and not long after he arrived on the ground level. He walked up to her desk and asked if his kid had caused her any trouble. She smiled and assured him no.

Then Bruce asked where Tim was.

"Sorry? Tim isn't here today."

Bruce frowned, looking just as confused as she felt. "My apologies. You said one of my wards was asleep here. I assumed it was Tim."

"Oh! No, no, it's not Tim. Well, I don't actually know his name but the little guy has been here since this morning." She gestured to the toddler in question.

Bruce turned around, saw him, and frowned. "He's not one of mine."

"He's not?"

"No. Are you sure he's not an employee's child?" He kept his eyes on the boy, eyes narrowed in thought.

"Yes, I am. Only three employees brought in their children today, and all of them are ten or above. He can't be older than five." She frowned now too, turning to her computer to double check. "I'll send out a company-wide email to be sure. I should have done this sooner. I'm sorry, I was just so sure he was under your care."

"It's alright, May. I'm not upset. I'm just worried about him. When about in the morning did he get here?"

She glanced up, but Bruce was still looking at the sleeping boy. "A little after nine."

"And he's been sleeping all that time?"

"Yes, as far as I'm aware."

"Alright. Thank you for looking after him. I'll take it from here."

"Of course, sir. I'll reach out to you if anyone identifies him."

He nodded appreciatively and walked over to the boy. She watched, frustrated with herself. She's worked as one of Wayne Enterprise's receptionists for over four years. She should have known better than to just assume some random, black haired blue eyed child was Bruce's kid. She should have at least reached out to make sure that was the case.

She sighed as Bruce knelt down by the couch and gently shook the little boy awake, resting her head in the palm of her hand. This poor child. His poor parents. They must be worried sick.

She has to make this right.

---

[sanguineterrain]

Kurt wagner and tail stuff!!! I love that boy! I love how you write! I love the tail! Smashing them together we got a a little piece of heaven! So Kurt wagner with s/o and some tail action pretty please!!

(Like if you need some more then that: for example, the times before they were together Kurt’s tail always seemed to gravitate towards reader (I’m an advocate that Kurt’s tail is like a fricking mood ring) wrapping around them, touching them. The times when they were together! And the time reader wraps their hand or something around his tail or something)

Love your writing! You’re awesome and amazing! And I want to say in advance, thank you so so much for doing this ask! I will treasure it dearly! And if you don’t do the ask then thank you so so much to taking the time to read it! Have a lovely day!

ouuu this is a sweet request <3 tail boy! thanks nonnie :) hopefully I did him justice 🫶 changed the request a bit but kept the same idea about the tail. may write a part 2... we'll see!

kurt wagner (nightcrawler) x gn!reader. fluff, cooking, gambit and rogue trying to talk some sense into the reader.

note: I tried to capture kurt and gambit's accents. however, as always, I'm open to feedback on them. It's definitely not my intention to offend or miswrite anyone!

****

The smell of bubbling cheese wafts from your pot as you stir. It's been a while since you were able to cook for yourself and have a nice meal, always running out to do something or another for the good of the planet.

"Smells good," comes a familiar voice. A moment later, a tail curls around your wrist as you shake some paprika into the pot.

You look away from your stirring into golden, irisless eyes. Kurt grins at you.

"Mac 'n cheese," you say by way of greeting. "Want some?"

"Please und thank you."

Anytime you cook, you offer Kurt to share. You frequently have the thought that you spoil the hell out of him, but you can't help it.

He helps you out by putting away the milk and cheese. But he's never far; his tail remains on you. It slackens from your wrist, then explores up your arm and around your elbow.

It's nothing new, of course. The first thing you learned about Kurt Wagner is how physically affectionate he is.

"That tail seems to have a mind of its own, elfie," you say, smiling down at the pot.

"What do you mean?"

"It's always holding onto me." You turn off the burner.

"Ah." Kurt drops his tail. "My apologies. I can ease up, as you say."

You shake your head. "Don't. I don't mind. Never have."

So Kurt gives you one final tail squeeze. The fur on his arm tickles you as he brushes past. You watch him in confusion.

"Where are you going?" you ask, halfway through scooping two servings of the pasta.

"Not far," he says brightly. "Jean wanted me to bring spoons from the kitchen." He holds up three metal spoons with his tail.

"Spoons?"

He shrugs. "An experiment. Who am I to question a scientist's whim? I promise I will be fast."

He teleports away, and you have a mind to cover Kurt's bowl with a plate. You bring both bowls to the table. At last, a proper meal.

You don't mind eating alone, but that hardly ever happens with Kurt around. Even if he's just eaten, he'll nibble on whatever you've made. You don't know where he puts all that food—perhaps in another dimension—but he makes it a point to eat with you, regardless of whether you've cooked or not. Even if you're in the middle of the forest eating a tin of beans, Kurt will plant himself right next to you and keep you company.

He's a good friend. The best friend you've ever had, actually.

"Woo, smells good!"

Gambit comes in first, followed by Rogue, since the two are never seen apart anymore. Gambit, nosy that he is, makes a beeline to Kurt's covered bowl.

"And what's in here?" he asks, lifting the plate.

"That's Kurt's," you say. "You can get some from the pot."

"Mais, it's Kurt's, huh?" He glances at Rogue, who grins. "Hear that, chère? Not sure if I should take from the pot. Might take my head, too."

You squint as they share laughter. "What're you talking about?"

"Oh, nothin'," Rogue says sweetly, taking the seat diagonal to you. Gambit sits next to her.

Your frown deepens. "I didn't say you couldn't have some, G, I just—"

Gambit shakes his head. "Don't go worryin' 'bout that. I'm just teasin'. I think it's cute how you feed the furball."

"Excuse me, I feed myself first," you say, and shovel a forkful of pasta into your mouth.

You hate not being in the know. It happens frequently, being that you're not a mutant. You're here on a personal invitation from Charles due to your "technology skills."

Really, you'd been brought here to fix Cerebro. And after that, you'd sort of just... stayed at the school. Charles had offered you a room, Kurt had won your friendship (or, perhaps, you'd won his), and you'd never left.

"Well, what do you mean, anyway? So what if I feed Kurt," you say, unable to stand not knowing.

"Just seems like where you are, Kurt's never far," Rogue says, watching you eat.

"Yeah, so? He's my friend."

"Oh, un ami. Is that what we're callin' it?" Gambit asks, eyes gleaming with mirth.

"What else would you call it?"

They look at each other in that Siamese cats way. Often, you've had the thought that they can read each other's minds—no powers needed.

"You really don't know?" Rogue asks, voice softening.

"Know what?" you ask impatiently.

Gambit makes a quiet noise in his throat. "Y'all don't know. He's gone on you."

Your brows rise. "Kurt? Don't be silly, Remy."

"Oh, great. You're both in denial," Rogue says, rolling her eyes. "Haven't you noticed how touchy he is around ya? Always huggin' and clingin'."

"Kurt's like that with everybody," you say. "He's like that with Logan!"

"Mais, the tail, it never lies," Gambit says with all the wisdom of someone centuries older. "He don't go wrappin' that tail 'round anybody."

Rogue nods sagely. "True. And he's always puttin' that tail around you."

"But he's..." You put your fork down in frustration. "That's ridiculous. Kurt would've said—I mean, there would've been a sign. He would've told me. Kurt doesn't hide anything from me."

"This is new for him, honey," Rogue says. "He's never been in love for real. He's not gonna act rationally."

"Alors, look at it this way. La Raison parle, mais l'Amour chante. Hm? His body betray his words. It sings to you. Jus' like I sing to ma cherie."

He reaches to take Rogue's hand, eyes practically heart-shaped. Rogue lets him, smiling in that secret, shy way of hers whenever Gambit is sweet on her.

L'Amour...

"Kurt is not in love with me," you say. "End of story."

They both heave sighs.

"Just watch his tail," Rogue says. "Kurt can hide a lot, but he can't control how he—"

BAMF!

You flinch as Kurt teleports into the kitchen. He grins and waves, then bounces around the table to greet the others.

"I'm back!" he says. "I hope my mac did not get cold. Will you be eating with us?"

"No, that's okay," Rogue says, looking at you meaningfully behind Kurt's back. "Rain check. We've gotta go train."

Gambit winks at you. "See y'all."

They disappear quickly. Kurt turns to you, blissfully unaware of your newly formed nerves.

"I am sorry I was gone for so long," Kurt says, sitting down to his bowl. "Jean had some questions about my abilities. Apparently, she's trying to replicate them in a machine."

"That's okay," you say. "Rogue and G kept me company."

Kurt beams. "They are so good for that, yes?"

He shovels a mouthful of mac 'n cheese into his mouth and groans in appreciation. His tail instantly curls around your wrist.

"Amazing!" Kurt says. "Perhaps your special ability is your cooking, hm? I would believe it."

You laugh. "Danke, elfie."

"Bitte schön," he says, eyes lighting up at your German. He frequently informs everyone about how good your German is becoming, even though you hardly know ten phrases.

His tail begins to stroke your arm. You wonder if he's aware of it. If he knows how his tail betrays him.

But no, that's outrageous. And even if it was true, it's not like the feeling's mutual, right?

"Oh, and," Kurt says. "I got us tickets to that show you wanted to see. They're playing it at the theater downtown. We can go on Saturday, ja?"

"You... oh. Wow. I told you about that ages ago, Kurt. You remembered?"

"Why wouldn't I?" he says, tilting his head. Like it hadn't occurred to him to be anything less than thoughtful.

"No, I'm just—thank you. That's really nice of you."

Kurt beams. "I am excited to watch the green witch und her pink friend sing!"

He keeps eating, unaware of the way he's made your world tip on its axis. Because now you know.

You're in love with Kurt Wagner. And the feeling just might be mutual.

[literally-12]

DPxDC Summoning Gone Wrong

Hi! Long time reader, first time writer. Please don't hate me if it's not super in character. Also I know this trope is overdone but oh well. I was inspired by a text post by @phiniusandjelly

Constantine felt the shift in power instantaneously and all at once. It manifested itself in the form of a cold shiver that started at his hairline and seeped throughout his body bringing with it goosebumps and a cold sweat. Something was deeply wrong. No. Something had changed and unfortunately, as the Justice Leagues’ resident expert on the supernatural, he felt as though somehow he was going to be responsible for getting to the bottom of it. 

Getting all the right information and sigils took longer than he wanted and convincing the rest of the Earth’s mightiest that he hadn’t finally slipped and cracked the fragile state of his already questionable mind took nearly as long. Luckily, Constantine knew if he needed to, he could get tall, dark, and spooky to back him. 

“I’m telling you, Bats, there has been a very large and significant shift in the forgotten realms and it is in your best interest that we follow up with all the gravity that this situation requires”. Constantine took a deep drag of his cigarette, pointedly ignoring Bruce’s scowl as the tip flared in front of him. Magically stepping into the Bat Cave was not something any wise man would consider doing on even their worst days, but Constantine had never claimed to be wise. 

“Explain”. Grunted Bruce, never one to put too much stock in the occult.

“Here’s the thing, Brucie, we’re talking a massive shift in power, like king of the infinite realms being dethroned type of power. The forgotten realms operate on a combat inheritance and I had the misfortune of meeting Pariah Dark once and he was about as unpleasant and violent of a bloke as they come” he flicked the ash onto the cave floor, beginning to pace, he hoped his unsettled demeanor would enforce the severity of the situation. “The one good thing about Dark was that he tended to mind his own business and stick to his dimension but now we’re dealing with an unknown. An unknown and immensely powerful being who could, if they wanted to, unravel the threads of our very reality”. He sensed more than saw Bruce’s eyebrows furrow, just a fraction of a centimeter, he was sure, but that was enough to let Constantine know that he was being taken seriously now. 

“I propose we bring this new king in and figure out their whole schtick. It’s going to be dangerous but it’s better to know what we’re dealing with in this sort of situation, maybe we can even make a deal, plead for our continued existence and all that.”

“You want to bring an exceedingly powerful, extra dimensional being into our universe and trap them to try and make a deal?” Batman grunted, his mind already racing through the many, many ways that this plan could go incredibly sideways. 

“Think of the children, Bruce, that’s your whole thing, right? You don’t want your gaggle of deplorable orphans growing up and adopting even more sad and blue eyed children in a world that no longer exists”. 

“What’s the probability that you can actually contain this all powerful being?” Constantine tossed the butt of his cigarette on the ground and crushed it under his heel, pulling out a second and bringing it to his lips. One look from the Bats and he sighed, putting it back in the carton. 

“Optimistically? Eighty percent”. 

“Realistically?” 

“You’re such a buzzkill. Sixty five at best”. The dead-pan he received in lieu of a reply told him that even though the plan would be going forward, Bruce was anything but happy. 

When the summoning came about, it was an all hands on deck situation. The sigils were drawn and checked and rechecked and then checked a third time just for giggles. The writing was done in some viscous red liquid that Bruce was hoping was paint. The red circle was about five feet in diameter and smack in the middle of the conference room at the watchtower. The symbols were not in any language that Bruce could recognize but even without a magical bone in his body, he could feel the power radiating from them. 

“Everybody ready?” Asked Constantine, gesturing for them to stand back, he held a thick, weathered tome in his left hand, flipped to a seemingly random page. At confirmation from the gathered heroes, he began to chant. 

The atmosphere changed immediately. The first thing that Bruce noticed was the sudden drop in temperature. Ice crystals began to form in the center of the now glowing circle, snaking their way lazily out towards the perimeter in hypnotizing patterns, the very air in the room also changed dramatically, becoming charged with the smell of ozone and the feeling of lightning about to strike. Every hair on his body stood at rigid attention. He looked at Constantine who now sported a grimace but did not halt his chanting, his tone began to take on an echo, seeming to come from all around him, words overlapping as his face was lit up by an eerie red glow. Bruce had half a mind to call the whole endeavor off as all their shadows began to defy logic and stretch towards the glowing sigils. His teeth gritted, he tried to move, tried to say anything but found himself powerless to move, beginning to drastically regret his choice of allowing Constantine to invite this being into their universe, he debated closing his eyes as a sense of unease washed over him and with the electricity in the room seeming to reach a breaking point, with a loud pop, suddenly everything stopped. 

The quiet and the light that returned to the room was almost as jarring as the whole summoning ritual and when Bruce’s eyes refocused on the circle in the center of the room, he was shocked to see a teenage boy floating there. He had snow white hair that seemed like it couldn’t be bothered to pay attention to gravity, floating as though he was underwater and being pulled by a gentle current. His glowing green eyes were wide and he looked almost as shocked as the team by him appearing in the room. 

“Who are you?” demanded Constantine, never once putting down his thick book. The teen tilted his head, seeming to consider the question. 

“Shouldn’t you know that? Considering you’re the one who called me here and all that. These sigils don’t just say 1-800-dial-a-ghost, you know” his voice further enunciated his youth, however it had a weird, echoey quality, sounding almost as if he was talking directly into Bruce’s ear. He pulled his legs up underneath him, sitting criss crossed midair, looking entirely too relaxed at the situation.

“Answer the question, specter” Constantine demanded, “we’re not fooled by this guise you put on”. To this, the being frowned and flipped upside down. 

“You mean my outfit? I thought it was pretty chic but then again, I wasn’t necessarily given the opportunity to pick out my death day fit, it was just sort of chosen for me”. He gestured at the black and silver jumpsuit he was wearing that betrayed his slight frame. 

“Constantine…” Superman spoke up for the first time, taking a step closer to the man. “He’s just a kid”. 

“That’s what the bugger wants you to think.” the man grit out “you think a being this powerful can’t do something as minute as changing his appearance to try to get us to drop our guards?” Clark looked torn but resumed his place in the line of heroes behind the occultist. 

“Listen to big blue, I’m just a harmless kid!” said the floating being, flashing a pearly white set of teeth that were just on the wrong side of being too sharp. 

“Bullshit! We know you’re the new king of the infinite realms. Play nice and we’ll let you go back to doing whatever it is you do in your dimension. We just want to know what the terms of your rule are.” 

“Oh, that” he flipped himself back upright and floated closer to Constantine, as he approached the perimeter of the trap, the sigils on the floor glowed brighter at his presence. Hesitantly, with one hand he reached out a finger, jerking it back a red spark zapped the tip. Sticking it in his mouth, in pain, he managed to talk around the digit saying “you know, this meeting could’ve been an email” pulling his finger out and giving his hand a test shake, he narrowed his eyes at the man in front of him. “Plus, isn’t it only polite that you introduce yourself first? I am a guest.”

“While you are here, you are our guest,” said Batman diplomatically, “we intend to extend all proper grace to you while you are in our presence. They call me Batman”. 

The teen snorted. 

“Yeah, I sort of gathered that by the whole bat symbol and pointy ears thing you’ve got going on”. He held his fingers up on either side of his head in a mimicry of Batman’s cowl. “I was talking about Mr. all powerful British magic man over here”. He stuck his hand out again, clearly not having learned his lesson, he withdrew it with a hiss as the invisible barrier sparked again. 

“There’s no escape for you, your highness, these sigils are specially made to contain any ghost within them” Constantine sounded smug. “You’re just going to hurt yourself by trying”. 

The child in the circle mouthed ‘any ghost’ mockingly, but floated backwards towards the center of the circle. Batman sighed, seems like he’s going to have to have all the manners around here. 

“John Constantine, Superman, Wonder Woman” he pointed at each of his teammates as he went. “And what name should we refer to you with?” 

Without moving his eyes from the man in the trenchcoat, the kid began to smile, just a little too widely for Bruce to feel comforted. 

“They call me Phantom”, he said off handedly, “Constantine, you say?” The man in question narrowed his eyes. “You know I have a full file cabinet stuffed with paperwork for you, I was hoping we would get the pleasure of meeting. I would’ve gotten it to you sooner but there's surprisingly a lot of work that has to happen in the first few days of a new reign”. He put his feet back firmly on the conference room floor. “If you’ll just allow me to go grab that, we can get started post haste!” He was way too chipper for anyone to be talking about paperwork. 

“So you are the new ghost king then” Constantine said accusationally, narrowing his eyes. “And we’re not letting you leave until we know what your intentions are with this dimension”

“Yeah, yeah” said Phantom. “You don’t have to ‘let’ me do anything. I know how you occultists work. You made one mistake though in this whole summoning slash kidnapping scheme”. With that, a blinding white light overtook the teen, forcing everyone to look aside to save their sight. When they looked back, Phantom had changed his appearance, gone was the ethereal floating white hair, replaced with normal, albeit messy black. His jumpsuit was also gone, replaced by a deceptively normal looking NASA hoodie and jeans with tears in the knees. 

Constantine’s eyes widened as he took in this new sight, he began to flip rapidly through his spell book, as Bruce watched the boy take one step forward, and then two, and then with a graceful hop, he was outside of the circle. 

“This circle only holds in ghosts” and with a devilish smile and another flash of brillant light, he was gone. On the floor where he had been standing only moments before, was a thick stack of loose leaf papers written in a language Bruce couldn’t decipher, text glowing an eerie green. On top of the stack was a post it note with messily scrawled handwriting. ‘Please return completed paperwork to the infinite realms ℅ Phantom at your earliest convenience’ another flash and another post it note ‘also I come in peace- Phantom’. 

Batman, as well as the others turned to Constantine to watch him drop his head into his hands, his large book tumbling to the side. He didn’t even protest when the man pulled out and lit another cigarette. 

“You have a lot of explaining to do” was all he said.

[tojipie]

needdd crybaby!reader taking care of toji when he comes back super injured from a job or something and she’s losing her mind and needdd that hurt/comfort thing that u write SOO GOOD with ur other crybaby!reader works i love u so much tojipie u r truly a gift

this is so incredibly validating and sweet omg i love YOU :((( when i saw this ask i literally jumped, i love the concepts you guys come up with

content: toji x crybaby reader, hurt/comfort, angst, injuries

˚ ✧ ──────────

You don’t know how you manage to move him off the porch and inside. If the circumstances were different you might actually be proud of your ability to lug 300 pounds of dead weight across the house.

You try your best to ignore the slick trail of crimson trailing behind the both of you as you pull him down the hallway, grunting, huffing, and trying not to sob as you force down the lump in your throat.

You wrap his arms around your shoulders for the last stretch, hauling his cold body forward as your legs scream in protest. You can barely make out the blue tinge of his fingertips in your peripherals, sniffling as you imagine his heart struggling to keep his body warm after lying face down in the snow for who knows how long.

Five agonizing minutes later you’re on the floor watching the living room carpet soak up the blood pouring from his lower abdomen. Toji is unresponsive, head lolling side to side as you try to shake him awake.

“Toji? Baby?” Your voice cracks, eyes flitting over each and every millimeter of his body as you take in the jagged wound creeping up his hip all the way to his ribs. He’s breathing like he doesn’t need air, one shallow, agonizingly slow breath for every 3 of yours.

Right, fuck. He’s bleeding.

Situations like these weren’t too rare when you’d first met your boyfriend. But nothing like this. Injuries were common but never in a million years did you think it would get to this point.

You’d learned a thing or two about first aid from years of seeing Toji stitch himself up night after night, job after job. Spending hours blubbering on the toilet seat watching him stand in front of the bathroom mirror, tongs in hand as he tried to pry whatever foreign object had lodged itself in his shoulder this time.

The only time he’d let you patch him up were nights when you were inconsolable, threatening to leave him if he didn’t get it together and leave his job behind for something normal. Something that wouldn’t take him away from you one day.

You thought he’d finally turned a new leaf a few months ago when you noticed he’d stop coming home battered up. You didn’t want to ask directly, wanting to hold onto that mix of hope and relief you felt at the prospect of him finally settling down. You shouldn’t have been so hopeful.

You waste no time ripping his already tattered shirt down the middle, pulling the fabric down, and knotting it tight around his abdomen.

Good, okay. The blood soaks into the fabric before ebbing and eventually slowing down. At least, you think it slows down. Everything is the same shade of red, staining your clothes and skin just like it stains his.

“Toji, can you hear me?” You don’t wait for an answer, already searching for a pulse along the side of his neck.

It’s weak, but it’s there. Hammering away under his skin as his body clings onto its last shreds of consciousness. You rock back and forth, cradling his head in your lap as you try to brush his sweaty hair out of his eyes.

He’s cold. So undeniably cold even with the heater blasting, and it takes everything in you not to break down when you notice he’s so limp that the scar across his mouth has lost its dimension, no longer twisting with the little smirk his mouth somehow always finds itself in.

You curl in on yourself, still rocking the two of you back and forth as you wait for a miracle.

“—real good.”

A voice, low and gravelly. One you’d know anywhere.

“Mm.. got me real good,” Toji mumbles sleepily, nuzzling into you as a sob of relief rips through your throat.

“Who?” You sob, cradling his hands in your face. “Who did?”

Toji finally opens his eyes, bloodshot and sensitive from his time in the cold. You feel his chest expand with air, letting a much-needed breath fill his lungs before exhaling his quiet answer.

“Bounty.” His words come much too slowly, almost like he’s trying to figure out how to speak again. “Guy.. owed a client some m-money. Didn’t… expect ‘m to be so good with a blade.”

“I thought you quit.” You whimper, lip quivering. You can’t believe he’d gone back to taking hits for quick cash, nearly killing himself over some quick pocket change.

“You know... I can’t do that, baby.” That’s all you get in return, his overwhelming guilt evident. There was no other path for Toji, no feasible way you’d ever get him to settle down.

You feel the tears start up again, leaving searing trails of salt down your cheeks and neck. Toji’s expression softens at your distress,

“I’m okay... I’m okay baby, I promise.” He whispers again and again, nuzzling into your neck as you sob into his chest for what feels like forever. Soft kisses flit over your nose and forehead, the warmth in his body returning with every pump of his still-beating heart.

A shaky, blood-stained hand wipes the tears from each side of your face, quickly returning to his side as the muscles in his arm give out.

You feel calmed down enough to breathe, pulling back from the raven-haired man to gather your bearings.

Toji takes a minute to look over his injury, peeling back the sticky fabric to assess the damage. Emerald eyes soften in relief.

“I’ll be fine.” He says firmly, letting you run your hand through his sweaty, blood-crusted hair. “Didn’t.. hit anything important. Fuck, need sleep.”

You don’t respond, watching his eyes drift closed and his head droop to the side. You’d call Shiu in the morning, ask him to bring antibiotics and an IV over.

You don’t know how long it is before you speak, cringing at how hoarse your voice has become.

“Tell me you’ll quit one day.” You don’t even know if he can still hear you.

A much larger hand engulfs yours, squeezing softly.

“One day.” He mumbles, you know he's lying to you.

[luminatricky]

Vampire? In Gotham! (part 1)

Summary: Danny's 19, a prince, a halfa, and tired of being these things. So he jumps on the idea of a vacation as soon he's given the hint of a chance. The only caveat is that he's going to go undercover as a vampire in a big city - Gotham - far from his home dimension. He finds it's easier than he thought it would be. He's already mostly there.

Relationships: Dead on Main (Jason Todd/Danny Fenton), John Constantine & Danny Fenton

Um? Inspired by several prompts and other fanfics. Lost Between Our Needs and Wants AU definitely, with a background Danny's summoned by Ra's as Damian as a sacrifice. Nothing bad happens (to Damian) don't worry. Also, the one in which Danny decided to fight ghosts as a human too.

And John is almost definitely ooc, he's a character I enjoy a lot even though I don't have a firm grasp of his canon.

Danny's afterlife has been way too interesting for way too long. It's gotten to the point that when things suddenly go quiet for months, he hardly hesitates to give his "human" life some over-due attention.

For obvious reasons he's not going to try his "vacation" in his own dimension. Anyone he once might have stayed for know how to get a hold of him, whenever and wherever.

The Amity Park portal is still open. But between the stricter laws on ghosts wanting to use permanent portals he managed to get passed, and the increasingly feral ways the townsfolk have begun defending each other with, Danny feels confident to finally...let go. In his heart, he had always thought of it as still his, despite not being there to maintain it in truth. But now it's not his Haunt anymore, fully and completely.

They don't need him anymore.

And Danny doesn't want to be needed like that again, to be honest. He sacrificed so much to play hero because he got it into his head that he had to do everything alone in the end. As if he was the only one who could kick ghost butt on the daily in town.

Thankfully, a nineteen year old Danny is smarter than a fourteen year old Danny. He's learned the art of delegation. Any tasks that he doesn't need to be present for, he has a whole team of ghostly assistants to handle things for him. The major multidimensional crises have for the most part been solved - his protection Obsession at the very least fed. And quite a few skeleton thralls he freed near the beginning of his reign were suddenly looking for direction. Among them, a decent amount found the talent and fulfillment in positions of bureaucratic power that Danny never will, filling up spots he's unwilling to give out like the candy the various ghosts of nobility treat the roles as. Or ghost nobility. Like the Ancients. Quite a few of the Ancients are assholes.

(At least all the murderous Ancients aren't problems anymore)

With all their help, he's able to occasionally pop in to do paperwork, meet with the High Court for various lawmaking and judicial decisions, and listening to official petitions to the Crown from his people. It's all good. No mountains of unseen paperwork, no audience with the Observants every waking moment, no one across the Realms screaming desperately for help. Even some of the cults have finally caught on that he's not Pariah!

So Danny starts the process of finding a new Haunt for his new, normal, alive alter ego. Staying as long as he has in the Realms couldn't have been sustainable long-term if he didn't want to become a full ghost. As complicated as his relationship with his humanity is these days, he still doesn't want to die again. And Frostbite definitely has been pushing him to finding new territory, in the Infinite Realms or otherwise. Because even for full ghosts going Hauntless for long periods is straining. To say the least.

Although, being just a human again...didn't sit right. Even after all this time. His human form is still one Danny Fenton, in his eyes.

He can never be Danny Fenton again. He accepted that his duties as Crown Prince would keep him away from the identity of the ghost hunter's ghost hunting son, who went to Casper high and had terrible grades in everything but science; the kid who was shoved into lockers and who was addicted to Nasty Burger and played DOOMED with his friends and who wanted to be an astronaut. He accepted that he had to leave that all behind, and be full ghost in all but form. His parents wouldn't want him if they knew everything he lied about, anyways. He didn't actually deserve the name Fenton.

His new Haunt would preferably be in a place where he could reasonably pass himself off as another species, then, and still be safe. Safer than being a ghost at least. Most universes had well-deserved folklore against the Realms. His people are not inherently malevolent...But he knows that they don't play nice and careful with the living.

He would need an ectoplasm rich environment, too. A big city with lots of crime would go a long way for providing the ambient death and fear vibes that would attract Blobs like a bee to nectar. It would also make it feel like the Infinite Realms - hopefully. He's gotten accustomed to that kind of environment. He thinks he may never sleep again in a place quiet and safe.

He'd like a place with a rich history too. Just for fun!

Danny mulls it over carefully, narrowing down universes he could reasonably start his search in. The only universe he can think of with extensive protections for the non-human written into law is one far-flung flavor of an Earth he's semi-familiar with. He's been there twice, both at 16, just starting out and stressed to hell and back with the sheer load of unattended problems Pariah left to rot.

Both times he'd been more than he'd have liked. One Ra's Al Ghul wasn't technically his problem. He was no one's problem now, and that was current Danny's whole issue with it.

John Constantine is an unlamented saint for putting up with a feral teenaged Danny's slap dash attempt at helping the both of them - John with his soul related doom, and Danny with his paperwork related misery.

But. Considering how he handled the contract with Al Ghul, Danny can't blame John for hesitating to renegotiate their terms already. Ra's Al Ghul was an idiot who gave him what he thought was the life of his grandson, in exchange for immortality.

Him. The Prince of the Dead. Immortality.

Thankfully, the wording was imprecise. What he actually traded was the kid's really cool sword - the kid kneeling, terrified eyes meeting his before darting away, offering his own sword to let Danny slit his throat and "collect his due sacrifice", Danny not being able to breathe through his own fear - for pure ectoplasm, with instruction to drink it everyday until he ran out.

This of course killed even him months later from over-exposure.

The man probably felt a mile high in the air, indestructible, right up until he crashed. Al Ghul promptly became a ghost. Which. Closest thing to true immortality the Prince of the Dead could offer him. He kept his end of the deal. It's not his fault that Al Ghul never specified that he didn't want to die to be immortal. It's also not his fault that Al Ghul had so many dead enemies and victims on the other side who were easy to find. It was ridiculously easy - they made a support group around being taken down by the LOA. And who was he to deny the dead their due vengeance?

Right. So John is understandably nervous about Danny owning all the pieces of his soul, no matter how much rapport they've built these past three years. Danny is mature enough to admit that it is his fault for that bit.

On the bright side for Danny, that means one grumpy occult detective in a sad trenchcoat is a guy who lives in his phone. Like an uncle-shaped tamagachi!

He scrolls though his contact list until he thumbs John's number. Surprisingly, instead of going to voicemail, he picks up on the first ring.

"Before you ask, yes I'm cashing in a favor, finally. No, it's nothing evil, I've just got the first actual free time I've had in five years and I'd like to get suggestions on a city to move to."

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

John ended up giving a very detailed list in response. Suspiciously detailed, and hardly prompted. How long had John been thinking on this? And why?

Danny chalked it up to the man's reasonable paranoia when it came to him. John's aware he can pretend to be (fully) human with relative ease, afterall. And the older man knows where he'd need to be able to actually live long term. After-live. Whatever. Point is, John probably made it his business to know where any sneaky invasions would start if Danny ever became a little less morally ambiguous and a little more bloodthirsty.

Entirely fair! Pariah wasn't always a tyrant!

On the very top was Gotham, a city in this world's Jersey, and the crime capitol of the States. Plenty of ambient ectoplasm, and planty of charged emotions wafting from every street corner. He doesn't voice this, but Danny figures that there must be a whole community of ghosts already living there because of that double whammy.

Something about the city's name tickles his memory, but can't quite pin it down. If it was important he'd have remembered. Right?

John is thrown when he asks about his options of other non-humans Danny could reasonably get away with impersonating.

"And why," the occultist half-accuses, "would you of all spooks, want to live in Gotham, as a 'vacation', just to not even pretend to be normal?"

"First of all, ow. John you know just because someone is different doesn't mean they're not normal. I thought you were the cool uncle." He responds half-heartedly. Danny bites his bottom lip, rolling it between his sharp teeth as he tries to think of a part two to that answer that wouldn't get uncomfortably personal.

John doesn't rise to his bait. Danny hears him unscrew something metallic, then the sound of fluid swishing quietly from the other end. Ah.

The silence wears on. Danny should hang up. But winging things have always gotten him into bigger trouble. And John is the guy to call for this. Fuck. And he's bad at lying bold-faced.

Fine.

"I'm half human," Danny responds as if that would explain everything. It doesn't, so he manages to continue in a small voice that he doesn't even remember the last time he'd used. "Sometimes I still pretend to be one when I can't see any other way. But I had my chance at playing the part of both. And I royally screwed it up, literally! I became freaking royalty and I just couldn't anymore. As far as anyone but my doctor is concerned, I'm full ghost. I had a chance - I don't deserve another one. Screw ups don't get nice things."

John takes another swig from his flask, mutters something under his breath that sounds vaguely like 'of course he's a fecking halfa'. His voice is rough around the edges from whatever cheap booze he just drank a concerning amount of.

"Listen. Sounds like you've got trauma dripping from your ears, kid. But what's the point here, huh? Sounds like you want to be human without all the fuss of it." John drawls out.

Danny takes a deep breath in through his nose. He tries to fight down the feeling of being peeled open for the world to see - being afraid isn't helpful right now. He needs to be silly, nonchalant, like he's always been with John in tense situations. Why do they only talk when things are tense, anyways?

"Essentially. It's more like. I want to have all the human experiences I missed out on, but without having to hide being inhuman. That kinda thing."

"And you can't just be a ghost?"

"I really don't think anyone likes being ghosted."

"Don't you start on that. You know what I mean, Princeling."

"Fine. No, I can't be a ghost. That's boring and no one likes being haunted."

John gives a long sigh. After a beat, he acquiesces. "Alright. You could pull off vamps damn well. Got the hair for 'em. The teeth and claws are only slightly off. There's several clans with different looks the same way humans have ethnicities. Although, I don't think that's the same, now that I'm thinking about it. But subspecies doesn't fit either."

Danny hums, tilting his head in thought. "Like the difference between a banshee and a specter?"

"Yeah, like that. All vamps, just different enough, and no kind older than another to say they're the 'main' species." John clarifies. Another pause. "Unless you count Halfas. Which. Some people do but shouldn't. Bloody idiots."

Danny startles, nearly dropping his phone. "Excuse me?"

John snorts. "What? You didn't know?"

"Musta missed that part in the complimentary instruction manual they gave me for having my molecules redecorated." He snarks. "What do you mean I'm already a vampire?"

"I said people who don't know what they're talking about count Halfas as the original vampires. You lot have been around since the bloody dawn of time, it seems." John sounds exasperated.

"That's not what I - never have I ever wanted to take a chomp on anyone's pulse point, what the fuck?"

John gets that smug tone in his voice that Danny has a love-hate relationship with. "And exactly how many undead folks do you hang out with when you're feeling peckish?"

"...you can't be serious." Danny says instead of denying him. What can he even say to that? He's never met a Revenant or Ghoul.

"As the grave, I'm afraid."

When Danny doesn't outwardly respond for too many beats, John takes another chug. "Phantom?"

"John." He begins, pinching the bridge of his nose as more and more dots connect too cleanly for him. "You might be wrong."

"...What awful lore about your eldritch homeland is going to send me into my weekly crisis this time?" The detective groans out.

"Alright. So you know how part of my whole thing as the Prince makes it my job to stay aware of ectoplasmic diseases?"

John hums in acknowledgement, so Danny sucks in a deep breath. "Then you should know two things. One, that I've been to a few dimensions with vampires in them. And like you said, they're all different from each other. I didn't really pay much attention beyond helping the people survive these world-ending scenarios though.

Two, is that in each and every one of those realities, the vampirism was caused by a virus made by an Ancient - don't worry, they're gone. The disease itself is called False Halfa Syndrome. It was their attempt to weaponize Halfas back in Pariah's time."

"Oh shite." John says elegantly. "Bag o' shite!"

"Good luck on that crisis. Me too." Danny is hardly holding in hysterical laughter. "I can't believe Sam and Tucker were right about this. Holy shit."

"How in the world didn't you piece this together until now?!"

"I don't know! I just thought it was coincidence!"

"Bloody fucking hell, Phantom. Nevermind. You can play a vampire totally accurately because you are one. A ghost one." John growls. "Cause that just had to be a thing."

Danny carefully doesn't think about how Vlad might have legitimate claim to that vampiric aesthetic he's got going on. Instead, he's planning on stealing an aesthetic change for his own ruse.

"Nice. Should I know anything else while we're here?" He asks.

John gave a wry laugh, crackling over the phone's shitty old speakers. "About Gotham or your new undead existence?"

"Both." He says instantly. "Both is good."

"Gotham has vigilantes. The birds and bats are efficient, and they spook easy at unknowns. Batman's technically my coworker if we're gonna call the Justice League a job - we don't get paid for this. He and his family deal with the craziest lineup of human rogues I've ever had the displeasure. It's made him a healthy amount of paranoid. If you're doing anything nefarious, he'll find you. And then he'll call me."

Danny isn't exactly afraid of John. But Pariah wasn't afraid of Danny, either, so the halfa takes it seriously. Internally.

"Yeah yeah old man. You've got your eye on me and all that. Uh huh." He genuinely appreciates the warning, too, but messing with John is his bread and butter.

"Watch it, brat," John says with no real venom, unlike a moment ago. "Or I'll bring out the stakes."

"I take mine medium rare, thank you."

"Piss off."

"...About the vampirism?"

"Normal ghost bullshite applies. It's about the ecto, I think. You go absolutely nutters for the stuff in undead folk. Something about how ectoplasm interacts with the reanimated. Liminals are nutritious too, but I've been told it's the difference between cafeteria food and gourmet. One smells absolutely heavenly, the other is barely appetizing."

Oh Ancients is that why all his exes are Liminal? No, hold on, was part of the reason Vlad was so weird about him just ghost-vamp on ghost-vamp mutual hanger?

"What, I'm not the only Halfa in your life? John. I thought we had something special."

"Please don't make this weird. Do not flirt with me." John instantly scolds. "I know you're just being your little weird brand of playful, but I knew you when you were a kid shaped menace. C'mon."

Danny blinks. He didn't think he was flirting, but apparently he was. "Alright. Sorry, John."

There's a sudden crash on the other side of the phone. Followed by John's muffled cursing.

"Listen, I have to go. If you're serious about this I'll get you some good fakes. Text me with what you'd like your name to be." And then John hangs up. Danny smiles into the lingering silence.

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

PhantomMenace: Dante Nightingale, pwetty please 0w0

God's Favorite Whore: That's the most main character name I've ever bloody seen.

God's Favorite Whore: You're from a dead family in Illinois, farm boy, meta. Had an accident at 14, with a near death experience for believability. You've also been missing since shortly after it. Anyone looking into you will think that's when you got "turned."

PhantomMenace: thats why your the cool uncle <3

God's Favorite Whore: This should count as another favor, don't you think?

PhantomMenace: Yup. I'll be nice

PhantomMenace: 💚 ~2/20 Favors until Soul Return~ 💚

[bet-on-me-13]

The Villains Daughter

So! Years ago, back when the Justice League was only just starting out, only a year or two after their initial team-up, they had one of their biggest battles to date. A group of Extra-Dimensional Beings had burst into their reality, hellbent on destroying a Government Facility and the nearby small town in Illinois.

They barely managed to beat the Invading Army back, although the Government Facility and a part of the nearby Town had been destroyed in the battle.

Later, they would learn about what had happened. Apparently the Government Base, called a GIW Facility, had managed to finally Crack the secret to Interdimensional Travel a few days earlier. Unfortunately, they had opened a Portal into a Dimension known as the Ghost Zone, ruled over by a Tyrant King who wanted to enslaved all world under him. Their Breaching of the GZ had alerted the Tyrant King to the existence of their Dimension, and he had launched an immediate Invasion to try and take it over.

And the evidence supported this.

Wonder Woman shared Legends of her People, telling that their Founding Ancestor had fled the rule of a Tyrant King when she passed into the Afterlife.

Zatara shared his Magic Tomes, showing them passages detailing the horrific Rule of the Tyrant King of the Infinite Realms.

They even asked Boston Brand, the Deadman and resident Ghost about it. He hadn't been the the Ghost Zone in Years, but even he told them that he had personally fled the Tyrant King.

And they also learned that when the Tyrant King set his eyes on something, he did not falter on his Warpath to acquire it. The Tyrant King, Pariah Dark, would be back for their World, again and again.

And they needed to be prepared. This Battle was what kickstarted their true Commitment to the idea of a Team. They knew they could not defeat Pariah Dark alone, so they needed to remain as a Team.

But there was another thing that came about from the Battle.

While the JLA had been helping clean up, Wonder Woman came across a strange sight. A Baby had been left in the rubble of the GIW Building.

She asked around, investigated, and did all she could to find the babies parents. At first she thought that one of the GIW Agents had brought their kid to work that day, but their records indicated that none of the Agents had children of that Age. And Neither did any of the other workers who worked on the base, like the Janitors or the Kitchen Staff. And of they did, all of their children were accounted for.

She eventually came to the conclusion that the Baby must belong to somebody in the nearby Town, but that lead led nowhere either.

She finally came to the conclusion that the Baby's parents must have died in the Invasion, a very unfortunate but very real possibility. She was going to place her into the System, but over the course of her investigation she had grown fond of the Child.

She decided to Adopt the baby herself. She didn't know the child's name, so she had to come up with a new one.

"How do you like the name, Stella?"

The baby gurgled in delight.

...

Over the next decade of their Teams Existence, the Justice League had to fend off the Legions of the Ghost King's Army many more times. It seemed that Pariah had grown wise to the fact that they were the ones defending the Human Realm, as almost all of the later attacks were directed on them personally.

It made sense, they were the First Line of Defense against his Armies, if he managed to defeat them, their World would soon fall.

But they dealt with the attacks as they came. They had made it their mission to defend their Home from the Forced of Pariah Darks Army, and they would not falter now, or ever.

In the case of Wonder Woman, he Daughter had grown to be a fine little lady. Stella had eventually developed Powers similar to her mother, in that she could fly and had super strength, and had begged to be trained as a Hero.

And who was Diana to deny her Daughter her greatest wish? Over the next 5 years, Diana trained Stella in the ways of the Amazon's. Then, when Stella was 15, she had her join the newly formed Young Justice.

She made a great group of friends on that Team, and even started going by Ellie as a Nickname. Her best friend was by far Conner, though she didn't know why she felt such a strong connection to him? It felt like she could relate to him, but her situation was completely different?

Ah well, her Mom wouldn't mind having another kid, would she? She always wanted a Brother!

...

Meanwhile in the Ghost Zone, the Ghost King was getting anxious. After 15 years, his Agents in the Human Realm had finally managed to set up the Ritual needed to Summon Him into the Human Realm.

Who knew that accepting the Ghost King's Throne would bar him from entering the Human Realm through normal Means? He couldn't even use the Portal, he needed to be summoned or he simply wouldn't be able to leave his new home dimension.

But now, it was almost time. Just another year or two, and he would finally be able to enter the Human Realm. He would finally be able to Find Her. His Daugther.

Danny would finally be able to reunite with his daughter, Ellie.