#frostbite did not fall for the lies

[tanglepelt]

Dc x dp idea 54

The Fenton parents have lost custody. Do to unsafe living conditions. Danny ends up being placed in the system. Jazz did not qualify to take him in.

The adults in the realm were not pleased. Offering to house him in the realm. Danny refuses. They demand a monthly check in at minimum.

That went fine until the foster parents handed him over to the GIW. They got a reward and Danny’s existence in their home wiped.

Danny doesn’t want to think about what’s going to happen if he meets check in. The last two had been them telling him they didn’t approve of the home. They were about ready to force him in the realm.

Red hood bust into the government lab the last day he could check in. Danny full on panics obviously Jason thinks it’s because he was locked up. But nope Danny’s worried frostbite, pandora and crew are gonna busy into the human realm to find him.

Now it’s a race to one of Jason’s safe house because if Danny doesn’t pretend to be somewhere safe it’s gonna be bad. Especially if they found out the GIW had him. Add in the experiments and it gets even better. A hoodie could hide the injuries for the check in.

No one believes him when he says he’s fine. That Danny has been crashing there after taking the realms advice and ditching the foster home.

Frostbite tells the two that they’d be doing weekly check ins now. That Danny can’t be trusted and if anything happened that isn’t handled before they find out it will be dire. Dire for the world of the living.

Now Danny is staying with Jason. They have to commit to the bit until the GIW are handled.

It becomes permanent.

[woodland-gremlin]

How to Adopt Your Clone Pt. 4

Previous Ao3

Those words cut through her core, cracking it.

“No, no, no, no, nO, NO!” she cried, shaking her head, trying to get rid of the memories of what she did under Plasmius’ hand. The people she hurt. The lives she destroyed. The ones she kept ruining, no matter how hard she tried not to. But no matter how much she cried and raged at the world nothing could change that for the first few months of her life she was brought up by the man in front of her. That she was just as much of a he was.

Clutching her chest where her core rested Ellie felt the pain of a cracked core, her very being attacked. With Plasmius denying her agency, claiming that she was still under his thumb, he attacked her Obsession Freedom. It hurt. She didn’t want any of this. All she wanted was to be free.

“Oh, no need to cry Danielle,” Plasmius cooed, “It is only the truth.”

“As true as the possibility of Maddie divorcing Jack and marrying you!” a voice claimed, cutting through the heavy weight in Ellie’s mind.

“What?” Plasmius questions before taking an ecto-blast to the face, a small shadow falling with him. Then with a flash of light he and the shadow were sucked into the thermos.

Ellie turns towards the voice, somehow still holding onto Superman through all the chaos.

“Danny?” she croaks.

“Ellie!” Danny cried, rushing over towards the distraught clone’s side.

“Hey,” he whispers, floating near her, “How are you feeling starlight?”

Ellie sobs, not understanding why Danny would touch something as dirty as her. Didn’t he know that she was a monster? That all she ever did was hurt people? She hurt him! She lied to him, lead him right into Plasmius’ hands to torture! So why-

“Because I love you Ellie,” Danny says with a sad smile, “You aren’t a monster, Vlad is.”

What?

“You’re mumbling starlight.”

“That doesn’t, doesn’t-” Ellie tried to say, quickly losing control of her words, the weight of the day setting in.

“Ellie,” Danny says softly yet firmly, “What happened with Vlad wasn’t your fault. He abused and manipulated you. Told you that it was the only way to save you and your siblings. You were only a few months old and scared. It was never your fault.”

Ellie clings to those words like they were a life line, hoping beyond hope that Danny was telling the truth. That she wasn’t a monster but, even then doubt creeped in.

“Now I need you to breathe,” Danny says, seemingly ignoring her incredulous look, “Yeah, yeah, I know neither of us need to breathe but it will help. The Fruitloop was working with Spectra this time making everything ten times worse. 0 out of 10 would not recommend.”

Ellie chuckled through her tears. Spectra was a bitch, but her powers were top notch. It would explain why the Creep’s words cut so deeply this time. What the explanation did not do was make horror go away, or why her chest felt like it was on fire.

“Now let’s get you to Frostbite. Spectra already put a few ghosts in the hospital during her escape, so we should get you checked-”

Ellie tried listening to the rest of what Danny was saying but everything started to sound and feel like static. Her vision blurred and her eyes felt heavy, like everything weighed 10 times more than usual. It felt like she was back in that horrid lab, melting into a pile of goo just like her siblings. But the worst part was her chest. It felt like it was split in two, her very being cracked open.

“Starlight? Ellie! Ellie!” Danny screamed as Ellie’s consciousness faded.

To be continued . . .

Next

[mayfay-analysis]

Danny's Medical Complications

Or: I had an idea and it won’t leave (and unfortunately I can’t do dialogue to save my life)

It started simple enough, a quick visit to Frostbite for a general checkup. And then it kept going. New machines, techniques, people, and an increasingly worried yeti was starting to freak Danny out a bit. Eventually it all went away and Frostbite set him down for A Talk.

See, Halfas are hella rare for a reason. The conditions needed to form them are really rare yes, but they aren’t the Main problem. No the main issue is the Disparity. Ghosts are beings of emotions, sufficient stress, emotional/mental harm, lack of ecto, and more can all lead to death. And Halfas crank that up to 11. They have a human side to take care of that’s constantly changing and growing, a higher ecto requirement to fuel their higher base strength, and a myriad of other minor complications that haven’t been properly studied cause Halfas are rarely found and usually don’t form ghosts on death

Say what

What do you mean “don’t form a ghost” they’re already half way there!

And there lies the problem, they’re halfway there. Ghosts are pretty static. they might change yes, but it’s usually due to major events or over the course of eons. And how do they decide on what they’re gonna be? By dying of course! Once the body dies its ghost is formed based on the current life situation and they move on. Simple, quick, easy. No complications here no siree!

Enter Halfas

They already died, and while infant ghosts and experience some major changes as they settle it’s nothing to the degree humans do. And as time passes the static ghost half and changing human half can drift, wobbling on that line between life and death. And once it gets to extreme? They fall. If the ghost half starves or dies the human half experiences Major health complications, leading to death shortly after. If the human side dies they try to form a ghost using all the ambient ecto the ghost side has been feeding on, leading to the ghosts death in most cases but if not they’re practically two different beings and fusing them will kill both anyways.

Good news though! With all the combat and rediculously high ecto levels Danny was exposed to to form his other half, his ghost side has stayed pretty adaptable! The other ghosts didn’t realize they were fighting a literal infant thanks to the high ecto levels he had (and the knowledgeable ones that Did had other reasonings the meant a little smack down they totally wouldn’t lose was an acceptable trade off for them). Horrifying, he will spend the next century finding all sorts of animal pelts, boxes, music tracks, etc landing on him in the middle of the night. But it has a silver lining! Thanks to not being allowed to settle Danny can still shape his ghost form to a degree. And Clockwork, brilliant old man that he is, has an Idea on how to fix this.

Great! Lay it on him Clockwork! What’s he gotta do? Get de-aged and die? Ha Ha! You sure know how to make a good joke old man-child, now what’s the real way?

Oh

Oh no

Danny Can form a ghost on death, but it’ll require dying while as mentally and physically similar to how he was when the portal closed. Problem there, he’s changed. He’s changed a Good Bit. Luckily Clockwork can handle the physical aspect but Desiree needs some extra time for her end. See, she Can change brain chemistry and whatnot, but it takes time to become permanent. A quick fix like her usual work is fragile (lies, it’s still stupidly powerful but forming a ghost relies on the persons deepest core, and that takes time to settle in to Desiree’s magic). So they just have to de-age Danny to an appropriate age where once he hits around the age he was when the portal closed Desiree’s magic will have settled, molding his personality/core to as close as they can be.

And then he has to die.

Doesn’t have to be as extreme as the portal incident was (in fact new factors like major doses of ecto would be a Very bad idea, his malleable ghost side is already pushing the limits with the minor variation he’ll already have) but it Does need to be in an area with high levels of ambient ecto, preferably his new hometown to match his current life’s lack of geographic movement.

He’ll also need to have his ghost half locked away to a degree. He’ll still need to be liminal of course, that long term exposure to ecto is needed to fuel a ghosts transformation, but proper ghost powers are getting put away unless Clockwork thinks they’re needed (and if it Does get to that point he’s getting pulled out for a second try anyways).

So where to put him? Well Gotham of course!

Clockwork…. Why are you like this (it’s all for the good of the timeline. And Lady Gotham owes him a favor he prepared just for this)

From there if he ends up in the Bats care (Nasty Burger explosion, Ghost Jazz, or simply not having anyone capable of properly raising him knowing he’ll die at 14) it doesn’t take long for one John Constantine to notice the Heavy Infinite Realms influence on the small child and drag the big bat away for his own Talk (double angst if he’s able to recognize the specific brand of Time Magic indicating a death prophecy). If he ends up under Jazz’s care then it might take a bit longer, but she’ll likely end up tied up in Bat business and from there it wouldn’t take long for a Very stressed Jazz to accidentally reveal something (or a child Danny not realizing “I know when I’m going to Die in excruciating detail!” is Not something you share with strangers, especially not ones as paranoid as the Bats).

Also for loose threads I imagine Ellie is unstable because her ecto is cloned off of Danny, while her human half is its own person. That large disparity usually leads to death (as seen in the other clones) but she’s able to force it off with sheer ecto strength, using the ecto shots as fuel to Force her body to stay together until they reach an inevitable conclusion or potentially meld together like Dan does).

As for Dan he’s not Properly a Halfa. I never watched the show so I don’t have all the details but I understand he’s some kinda mix of future Danny and Vlad gone evil and destroying the world. This mix Might be able to last longer than a regular Halfa would due to the insane amounts of ecto he has in his system. And as time passes the mixed ghost halves Could be unstable enough to sort of meld with his human parts, creating something of a Highly unstable ghost-human hybrid (seperate from Halfas since this is a blending of the two, not a distinct line between two halves).

That wouldn’t work with Danny cause it requires a second ghost mixing with him And the two somehow not destabilizing during the years it takes for the blend to settle. And the Ellie route is out since that requires So Much fine control and vigilance over a Very long period of time to slowly manually shape the ghost half to better fit the human half, rather than the other way around like Danny’s doing.

[mayfay]

Danny’s Medical Complications

Or: I had an idea and it won’t leave (and unfortunately I can’t do dialogue to save my life)

It started simple enough, a quick visit to Frostbite for a general checkup. And then it kept going. New machines, techniques, people, and an increasingly worried yeti was starting to freak Danny out a bit. Eventually it all went away and Frostbite set him down for A Talk.

See, Halfas are hella rare for a reason. The conditions needed to form them are really rare yes, but they aren’t the Main problem. No the main issue is the Disparity. Ghosts are beings of emotions, sufficient stress, emotional/mental harm, lack of ecto, and more can all lead to death. And Halfas crank that up to 11. They have a human side to take care of that’s constantly changing and growing, a higher ecto requirement to fuel their higher base strength, and a myriad of other minor complications that haven’t been properly studied cause Halfas are rarely found and usually don’t form ghosts on death

Say what

What do you mean “don’t form a ghost” they’re already half way there!

And there lies the problem, they’re halfway there. Ghosts are pretty static. they might change yes, but it’s usually due to major events or over the course of eons. And how do they decide on what they’re gonna be? By dying of course! Once the body dies its ghost is formed based on the current life situation and they move on. Simple, quick, easy. No complications here no siree!

Enter Halfas

They already died, and while infant ghosts and experience some major changes as they settle it’s nothing to the degree humans do. And as time passes the static ghost half and changing human half can drift, wobbling on that line between life and death. And once it gets to extreme? They fall. If the ghost half starves or dies the human half experiences Major health complications, leading to death shortly after. If the human side dies they try to form a ghost using all the ambient ecto the ghost side has been feeding on, leading to the ghosts death in most cases but if not they’re practically two different beings and fusing them will kill both anyways.

Good news though! With all the combat and rediculously high ecto levels Danny was exposed to to form his other half, his ghost side has stayed pretty adaptable! The other ghosts didn’t realize they were fighting a literal infant thanks to the high ecto levels he had (and the knowledgeable ones that Did had other reasonings the meant a little smack down they totally wouldn’t lose was an acceptable trade off for them). Horrifying, he will spend the next century finding all sorts of animal pelts, boxes, music tracks, etc landing on him in the middle of the night. But it has a silver lining! Thanks to not being allowed to settle Danny can still shape his ghost form to a degree. And Clockwork, brilliant old man that he is, has an Idea on how to fix this.

Great! Lay it on him Clockwork! What’s he gotta do? Get de-aged and die? Ha Ha! You sure know how to make a good joke old man-child, now what’s the real way?

Oh

Oh no

Danny Can form a ghost on death, but it’ll require dying while as mentally and physically similar to how he was when the portal closed. Problem there, he’s changed. He’s changed a Good Bit. Luckily Clockwork can handle the physical aspect but Desiree needs some extra time for her end. See, she Can change brain chemistry and whatnot, but it takes time to become permanent. A quick fix like her usual work is fragile (lies, it’s still stupidly powerful but forming a ghost relies on the persons deepest core, and that takes time to settle in to Desiree’s magic). So they just have to de-age Danny to an appropriate age where once he hits around the age he was when the portal closed Desiree’s magic will have settled, molding his personality/core to as close as they can be.

And then he has to die.

Doesn’t have to be as extreme as the portal incident was (in fact new factors like major doses of ecto would be a Very bad idea, his malleable ghost side is already pushing the limits with the minor variation he’ll already have) but it Does need to be in an area with high levels of ambient ecto, preferably his new hometown to match his current life’s lack of geographic movement.

He’ll also need to have his ghost half locked away to a degree. He’ll still need to be liminal of course, that long term exposure to ecto is needed to fuel a ghosts transformation, but proper ghost powers are getting put away unless Clockwork thinks they’re needed (and if it Does get to that point he’s getting pulled out for a second try anyways).

So where to put him? Well Gotham of course!

Clockwork…. Why are you like this (it’s all for the good of the timeline. And Lady Gotham owes him a favor he prepared just for this)

From there if he ends up in the Bats care (Nasty Burger explosion, Ghost Jazz, or simply not having anyone capable of properly raising him knowing he’ll die at 14) it doesn’t take long for one John Constantine to notice the Heavy Infinite Realms influence on the small child and drag the big bat away for his own Talk (double angst if he’s able to recognize the specific brand of Time Magic indicating a death prophecy). If he ends up under Jazz’s care then it might take a bit longer, but she’ll likely end up tied up in Bat business and from there it wouldn’t take long for a Very stressed Jazz to accidentally reveal something (or a child Danny not realizing “I know when I’m going to Die in excruciating detail!” is Not something you share with strangers, especially not ones as paranoid as the Bats).

Also for loose threads I imagine Ellie is unstable because her ecto is cloned off of Danny, while her human half is its own person. That large disparity usually leads to death (as seen in the other clones) but she’s able to force it off with sheer ecto strength, using the ecto shots as fuel to Force her body to stay together until they reach an inevitable conclusion or potentially meld together like Dan does).

As for Dan he’s not Properly a Halfa. I never watched the show so I don’t have all the details but I understand he’s some kinda mix of future Danny and Vlad gone evil and destroying the world. This mix Might be able to last longer than a regular Halfa would due to the insane amounts of ecto he has in his system. And as time passes the mixed ghost halves Could be unstable enough to sort of meld with his human parts, creating something of a Highly unstable ghost-human hybrid (seperate from Halfas since this is a blending of the two, not a distinct line between two halves).

That wouldn’t work with Danny cause it requires a second ghost mixing with him And the two somehow not destabilizing during the years it takes for the blend to settle. And the Ellie route is out since that requires So Much fine control and vigilance over a Very long period of time to slowly manually shape the ghost half to better fit the human half, rather than the other way around like Danny’s doing.

[fairy-writes]

IM BACK!!! Here’s my second ask for your 900 followers!!

Could I get Douma x female reader with the dialogue prompt #17 please and thank you!!

Have free reign but FLUFFY!!!!!

ONE KISS LESS

Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!

__________________________________________________________________________

Fandom(s): Demon Slayer

Pairing(s): Douma x Female!Demon!Reader

Prompt: “Will you let me fall in love with you?”

“Only if I can fall right back.”

“I’ll be sure to catch you when you do.” (Dialogue Prompt #17)

Notes: I have no clue if Douma is in character for this, but I’m trying anyway.

Some mild spoilers for Douma’s Blood Demon Art? But I don’t really go into detail, I only mention his weapon and what his ability does. 

I also stole the backstory of my kny character that I never published here (though I hadn’t figured out the pairing for that yet). 

__________________________________________________________________________

You were a peculiar character to Douma. Mostly because you never showed your face. 

You were a fellow demon, a low-level one. Though he learned it wasn’t because of any lack of talent on your part. On the contrary, you were quite powerful and had a myriad of clever and dirty tricks up your sleeve. You just never tried to get more power from Master Muzan. You were content to hide away in your little lair and eat whatever cocky demon slayer or regular human came by. 

The more he got to know you and your tricks, the more he decided he wanted you for his own.

So he started “conveniently” being in the area whenever you ventured out of your little house with pristine tatami mats and sliding doors. It wasn’t anything remarkable, just a small Japanese-style home with a koi pond just on the edge of the Engawa. 

He discovered you mostly left your house to get more food for your fish. A mask always hid your face and your scissors in the sleeve of your kimono in case anyone got handsy with you. 

Which he also discovered happened more often than he would like. But he very well couldn’t do anything about it unless he wanted you to catch him. And he didn’t want that. Not yet, at least. 

When you finally did manage to catch him in his games, you weren’t upset like he was expecting. You were curious. 

“What would Upper Moon Two want with someone like me?” You ask, voice muffled through the ceramic and paint of your okame mask. The rosy cheeks mocked him, and he yearned to just rip it off and look upon your features. But that would scare you off. And he didn’t want that. Despite loving the idea of fear coloring your eyes. 

He gets the chance to see your face when he watches you almost die. 

You were dodging a swipe from a young demon slayer’s sword glinting a light blue in the moonlight. Douma watched from the trees, rainbow eyes flicking this way and that as the two of you traded blows. The demon slayer—a young boy of seventeen or eighteen—had cuts littering his face from your scissor blades, and your kimono was soaked in your blood from already healed wounds. 

Your white hannya mask is almost blinding in the light of the silver moon. Douma knows it’s just a trick of the light under the stars. But it’s stunning regardless. 

He steps in when you’re pinned against a tree by the Nichirin sword through your shoulder. The demon slayer stands triumphantly before you as he draws a shorter sword from its sheath on his opposite hip. 

Just as the blade comes down to sever your head from your neck, Douma whips out one of his gold-plated fans and freezes the demon slayer with his Blood Demon Art. The ice coats the slayer from his head to his toes, and Douma can see the frostbite settling in from underneath the ice.

You stumble away from the tree, tearing the Nichirin blade from your shoulder where the wound was already healing. In the blast of his fan, the ice had torn the mask from your face and shattered it against the ground, exposing your features for the world to see.

Brutal scars slit your mouth from the corners of your lips to your ears. They’re jagged and puckered and colored a perpetual angry red as if you had just received them. But if he were to guess, you had received them long ago. Likely when you first became a demon by Akaza’s hand—a fact he learned long after you two became acquainted. 

You had first gotten your scars when your husband flew into a violent rage after learning you could not bear him children, claiming you had mothered a child with someone else and was refusing to give him an heir. 

You had killed him with a blow to the head. 

Soon after, Akaza had found you covered in the blood of your husband’s head wound.

Never before had Douma wanted to thank Akaza for anything. But now he wanted to thank him for letting him meet you. 

Your relationship was a carefully cultivated thing. One built on trust on your part and scheming on his. But nevertheless, you two grew closer than Douma had planned. Until one day…

“Will you let me fall in love with you?” You whisper, face close and nose brushing his own. If he moved at all, he would have kissed you. 

And so he did. 

Just lightly, gently, as if he wasn’t even there. You inhaled, surprised, but you didn’t pull away. You press closer, a hand coming up to touch his unblemished face. Your hand is soft, like a feather. And he loved it as much as a demon could. 

But Douma pulled away with a mischievous smile. 

“Only if I can fall right back.” He teased and delighted when you smiled. It was a bit twisted with your scars marring your face. It was beautiful nonetheless. 

“I’ll be sure to catch you when you do.” You breathe and lean in to kiss him again. 

He grins against your lips. A small smile that twisted his features. But you couldn’t tell. Not when you pulled away and hid your face in your hands in utter joy. 

Oh, the plans he had for you.

[shieldkeeper]

Writing Prompt: Perpetuity Word Count: 511 (Frostbite AU) ---> masterlist

Few would know of the secret that oracles kept well under wraps from any normal person. For if they learned of it, they would have a hint of an oracle’s true nature… and how to control that nature.

One easily assumed that a seer’s visions eternal for the rest of their days, aye? A fact that is only partially correct but purported nonetheless far and wide by those who would experience these visions. A way of protection so to speak, as they spouted daily prophecies. Truths and lies. Vague predictions without answer to any listening ear.

Garen could never fall in line with the ways of the other seers. He wished to tell the truth and only the truth of what he’s seen, to lead credence to himself and to undo the decades of harm this reputation has done for his kind. He speaks only when he has experienced a vision tried and true. One that he’s pieced together proper and can regale as much.

But with that, he risked outing their most fatal flaw…

The flaw that seers did not dream. 

How else could they make certain their prophecies after all? To convince that foreseeable truth?

In exchange for these glimpses or full-on sequences that played in one’s head through the night, Garen and all seers alike never once dreamed. But a transition from one state of wakefulness to another as nights passed without coincidence.

Not only that, but there were clear signs when one did happenchance to have a vision. Their sleep would not be so peaceful. They’d toss and turn as their mind wrestled to understand the things they witnessed during nightly visages. 

Nothing would wake them either. Entrapped in their own mind and whisked away into prophetic visions till seen in its entirety. Their bodies may as well turned into helpless vessels as though possessed all throughout.

An unknowing person would likely mistake them for hard sleepers! Or think them to have gone mad when caught in such states. In reality, however…

Were any outside of this circle of knowing to learn these truths, they could find plenty a way to force an Oracle to do their bidding proper. They’d be watched like hawks. They wouldn’t be able to thrive in the way that they have until now, rather they be seen as shams than to face a potential life of strife.

Luck would have it that none have picked up on Garen’s flaw. On why he was such an anomaly compared to most seers. Why his word had always been truth. 

His defense comes in the ways he portrays his visions: Like those of a bard singing embellished tales that could mean one thing or another. Even if he might truly understand all the details in depth, he would purposefully make it vague enough for the common villager that would ask of him to be true without finer print.

An eternal cycle of slumber that meant all or nothing… 

They could only pray that this truth never be gleaned by outsiders. Not even to closest companions.

[fascinatedscrawls]

Phic Phight Prompt: The Box Ghost, aka the most un-frightening pathetic nuisance ever, is actually incredibly powerful compared to the average ghost.

Word Count: 1425

For @phantomphangphucker

Summary: There are a lot of different kinds of power. Some are easy to see and others - others take a little more perspective to understand. Of course, realizing that the Box Ghost was both feared and respected within the Ghost Zone is still a bit baffling even after Danny gets to see it first hand.

"Wait, wait, wait." Danny held up a hand to stop Ember before reconsidering and putting it to his own forehead in an attempt to drive off the headache he could feel building there. "Can you repeat that?"

"What am I, a wind up doll?" Her look of disgust made way for an eye roll when Danny dragged his hand further down his face to glare at her over his fingertips. "The Box Ghost will have what we need."

Hand now over his mouth, Danny wondered if he needed to get his ears checked. When she clicked her tongue at him and went to keep moving, Danny quickly followed her gesturing wildly.

"The Box Ghost? Really? As in, the guy who comes to Amity just to grab cardboard boxes and crates? The one who won't stop introducing himself and screaming 'Beware!' - that guy?" Actually, a thought occurred to him and he narrowed his eyes trying to fly ahead of Ember to try and read the truth of it off her face. "Hang on, does he introduce himself because he's trying to use some other ghost's reputation? Is there another Box Ghost out there?"

Ember sped up shaking her head as she sped through the Zone.

"Of course not, anyone would be able to tell that the imposter was lying. Or, well," she winced a little, "no one would believe that guy when he lied. I mean, he's not the best actor. Not everyone's meant for the stage, obviously."

"Obviously." Danny repeated, voice and expression flat before he remembered that he was here to ask Ember for help. Pasting on a friendly smile when she sent him a warning look, he tried for a little more clarification hoping that she wouldn't change her mind. "But how did he become the ghost to see?"

"I'm the ghost everyone wants to see." She reminded him instantly, striking a pose like she was getting photographed before waving off his fumbled response to that. "I know what you meant. For this type of thing it's more that it just falls into his domain."

"Like, a kingdom?" The Box Ghost had a whole realm like Dorothea and Frostbite? Danny almost breathed a sigh of relief when Ember shook her head.

"No, more like a website."

Danny wasn't aware that he could stumble while flying, but he managed it anyway. "Excuse me?"

"No."

Ugh. Ember was sometimes all the parts of Jazz Danny couldn't stand - a big sister without any of the care that made Jazz one of Danny's favorite people. At his groan Ember came to an abrupt stop and reached for her guitar. Danny almost brought ecto to his hands before he realized she was holding it out instead of readying an attack.

"Look, everyone has what they're good at, right? Like I'm amazing at singing and playing my guitar so when I play I can do things through my performance."

"Right." Danny drew out the vowel a bit, following but not really sure where this was going.

"It also means that things pertaining to my domain of Rock Star Sensation are more likely to find their way to me even inside the Infinite Realms." Flicking her fingers, she rolled a guitar pick down her knuckles in a practiced move. "That's why my guitar is always in tune and I usually have all the things I need to play it. Strings, picks, if they fall into the realms there's a good chance I'll find them."

So ghosts frequently found things that related to their obsession. Danny wasn't sure how true that was - that things find their way to the ghosts that wanted them rather than most ghosts only paying attention to things they were personally obsessed with, but the Ghost Zone didn't exactly run on any logic he truly understood so he was going to roll with it for now.

"And the box ghost-"

"Finds boxes." Ember finished his sentence, swinging her guitar back over her shoulder and starting forward once more, more noticeably following the path of a few other ghosts Danny could see in the distance. "And other packages, though he doesn't like those quite so much."

"He finds boxes and keeps them no matter what's inside, got it." Which explained why she was leading him to the Box Ghost for those supplies Frostbite was looking for. "How often does he find more boxes?"

Just how likely was it that Danny would find the laundry list of things Frostbite was looking for?

"Oh," Ember didn't even knock before pushing a double wide set of swinging doors open so they could step inside what Danny now saw was their destination. "Almost constantly, I think."

Goggling at the ghostly equivalent of a big box warehouse complete with rows and rows of aisles that practically scrapped the almost cavernous ceiling, Danny didn't even care that Ember was absolutely snickering at his reaction. "Where do they even come from?"

"They're every package that gets lost in the mail, I think." Ember answered, grabbing his arm and pulling him further into the store. "And there are a lot of lost packages these days."

They passed huge piles of boxes, each stacked higher than the Fenton Works Ops Center, many of which baring familiar logos from various online retailers. Danny snorted before his eye caught on a ghost reaching through the cardboard to triumphantly pull something (hedge trimmers?) from a box only to very quickly place whatever was in his other hand into the box in its place. Looking around at other ghosts who were sifting through the madness or bargaining between themselves Danny noticed something.

"Does everyone bring their own stuff?"

"Money doesn't really mean much here, so like everywhere else in the Realms this place runs on trades." She reached into her pocket and pulled out a few CDs some of which Danny vaguely recognized as being popular a few years ago, all of which wouldn't have fit in her pocket if she weren't a ghost. "The Box Ghost doesn't care about what's in the boxes so long as something is inside the box."

Danny's next question was forgotten as the Box Ghost himself burst intangibly through the boxes on the next aisle over, hands raised with a loud, "I am the Box Ghost!"

After months of being warned by the same ghost with nothing resulting from it other than maybe a few hours of annoyance as he chased the Box Ghost around town before capturing him, Danny watched incredulous as the smaller ghost the owner of this 'store' was threatening cowered, literally tripping over themselves as they searched their pockets for something to put into the box they'd left empty a few minutes before.

Around them the other ghosts scattered as the Box Ghost yanked the offender up by their collar, eyes burning bright and an surprisingly impressive wave of energy rolling off him that even Danny could fee,l before a figurine (in mint condition) was held up in shaky hands as an offering.

There was a pause as the Box Ghost blinked away his rage to inspect it. Then he snatched it from their hands and put it ever so gently back into the temporarily empty box. Giving it a satisfied pat, he then threw out a practiced "Beware!" before vanishing back to wherever he came from.

Danny watched the ghost he dropped snatch up their prize and shoot out the double doors before giving a knowing Ember a wide eyed look.

"Never mess with a ghost over their obsession on their own turf, especially not a guy who gets all his power from the ecto people give off his his warehouse." She warned him.

"But - he's so-" Danny struggled to put it in words. "He never does anything like that in Amity?"

"Not his turf is it?" The pointed look met its mark even before she followed it with, "Besides, you've got his kryptonite."

Baffled, Danny pointed at himself. Ember helpfully pointed at him too. Following her finger, Danny unhooked the thermos from his belt.

"For a guy who is all about boxes and other things cubic, the only thing worse for him would be a sphere."

Aaand there was the Infinite Realm's 'logic' catching Danny off guard again.

"I guess it doesn't matter how powerful he is if I'm always fighting him with the perfect weapon."

"Yep, now get searching. I don't have all day and this place doesn't have any sort of organization."

With a groan, Danny snatched the CDs from her hand and got to work.

[dadjokestop]

If you think you can keep a straight face through these try not to laugh jokes, think again! These gems are guaranteed to challenge even the toughest audiences. Whether you’re with friends, family, or just in need of a good chuckle, these jokes are here to test your composure. So grab a seat, prepare your best poker face, and let’s dive into some giggle-inducing hilarity! Why "Try Not to Laugh" Jokes Are So Fun The beauty of try not to laugh jokes lies in their absurdity and punchy delivery. They’re designed to catch you off guard, with unexpected twists that lead to uncontrollable laughter. Plus, the challenge of trying not to laugh makes it even more fun! So get ready to stifle those giggles as we dive into the world of side-splitting humor! 20 Try Not to Laugh Jokes to Test Your Willpower What did one wall say to the other wall? I’ll meet you at the corner! Why did the bicycle fall over? Because it was two-tired! What did the grape do when it got stepped on? Nothing, it just let out a little wine! Why did the scarecrow win an award? Because he was outstanding in his field! Why don’t scientists trust atoms? Because they make up everything! How does a penguin build its house? Igloos it together! Why was the math book sad? Because it had too many problems! What did the ocean say to the beach? Nothing, it just waved! Why did the cookie go to the hospital? Because it felt crummy! Why don’t skeletons fight each other? They don’t have the guts! What do you call fake spaghetti? An impasta! Why did the golfer bring two pairs of pants? In case he got a hole in one! How does a scientist freshen her breath? With experi-mints! What do you call cheese that isn’t yours? Nacho cheese! Why did the computer go to the doctor? It had a virus! What do you get when you cross a snowman and a vampire? Frostbite! Why did the stadium get hot after the game? All the fans left! What do you call a bear with no teeth? A gummy bear! Why can’t you give Elsa a balloon? Because she will let it go! What do you call a fish wearing a bowtie? Sofishticated! Bring on the Laughs! With these try not to laugh jokes, you’ve got a foolproof way to lighten the mood and spark some laughter. So gather your friends, challenge each other to keep a straight face, and enjoy the hilarity that ensues. Remember, it’s all in good fun—let the giggles flow and enjoy the moment!

[pikaclan]

Moon 399

Season: Greenleaf

Overarching Events

Not enough medicine cats

Misc

Scorchbud finds a warrior from FlightClan named Ravenstreak, who asks to join the Clan

Ceremonies

PikaClan welcomes Peartree as a new warrior, honoring their pragmatism

Newly-made apprentice, Nimblepaw, touches noses with their new mentor, Treestar

Newly-made apprentice, Orchidpaw, touches noses with their new mentor, Ravenlake

Deaths

Shrewdusk died from a broken bone

As the Clan sits vigil, swapping stories of Shrewdusk's life, Av Avalanchebeetle speaks of what they admired, and is grief-stricken Treestar grieves Shrewdusk but is not stricken

Roarweb was murdered. The culprit is unknown

Frogcry appraches the clearing where Roarweb's body lies, cold and lifeless. Defying expectations of sympathy and grief, Frogcry instead curses their fallen Clanmate to the Dark Forest where they belong (Roarweb was sent to StarClan but he did have DF affinity and was too insecure to act on it) Beamdrizzle grieves Roarweb but is not stricken

Riverfish and Stemkit go missing in the night

Fadedflake, Silkmimic grieve Riverfish but are not stricken

So much grief and death has taken its toll on PikaClan, Gingerhorn, Lemon Boy, and Starlingholly are particularly shaken by it

Deino and Bastettiger grieve Mistlewing but are not stricken

Misc 2

Starlingholly is caught breaking the Warrior Code

Flurryjoy received a present, crow feathers, from Gingerhorn and decided to keep it on their pelt

Quiverkit was playing with crow feathers, and decides to wear some

Thistlekit falls into a river, but is saved by Lightningblink

Health

Thundersight announces they're expecting kits but choose to continue duties for now Avalanchebeetle's phantom pain is gone, but their weak leg is bothering them Tremblemask fought a rogue and drove them away, but needed to be rushed to the medicine den, and got heat exhaustion Oddflight's bruises are gone Fogcrawl's shivering and frostbite are gone Silkmimic's weak leg is bothering them Frannie's running nose is gone Starlingholly misstepped and slipped from a rock, spraining their paw Scorchbud's wound is no longer infected and healed, but scarred

Andrew accidentally crossed the border on patrol and got their ear torn Shiveringivy got heat stroke Edelweissthrift got fleas Shadowgoat is no longer shivering/running nose gone Pearpaw's shivers died down Glowpaw is no longer shivering Lilacpaw is no longer shivering

[persephoneblackrose]

'You lied to us.'

The JL stood on the barren field behind Phantom, looking up to where he floated like a whisp. His cloak buffered around his shoulders, the crown slightly smaller than before and suspended above his head, just brushing the icy curls, and definitely not in danger of tipping over his eyes. Phantom had fought with a different sword than originally presented, a sword he held now. Batman moved to a more defensive position and the rest f the league followed.

'No, not technically' Danny smiled, 'Just a bit of a redesign.' he spoke kicking further off the ground, 'You assumed.'

Eyes narrowed, 'You told us you were 14.' Superman accused.

Danny tilted his head to the side, the crown did not fall, it fit now. 'Not a lie., He grinned amicably, 'technically.'

Constantine groaned, interrupting before anything potentially insensitive was spoken (Hal Jordan currently looking as a likely candidate) 'You died at 14.' rubbing between the eyes, 'illude and deceive.' He pulled a book from his trench coat, muttering, 'A Ghost King at 14. A kid to defeat Pairh Dark'

The idea to him must have suddenly seemed outlandish.

Danny must have heard; his eyes sharped marginally, he took a mental note for later, and disregarded.

Batman drew Phantom's attention, beginning his interrogation 'Who trained you?' The battle was intense and colossal, making on-scene analysis difficult if obsolete.

Phantom quirked a nod upwards, 'A king has its council. I was trained by the Ancients, Frostbite, Clockwork, Pandora-'

'Lady Pandora?' Wonder Woman stepped up, 'of the Box?'

'Yes.' Danny softened a smile. His eyes almost twinkled like stars, '..Cousin Diana.'

Wonder Woman grinned broadly, whip falling to her side, 'Ah, a Warrior of Ol-'

'How old are you really?' - Hal Jordon, the present Green Lantern. (looks like that comment was only delayed, not diverted entirely)

'16.'

Danny was entirely plain-spoken when he shattered their assumptions once more. (though, this time, he is unaware of that fact)

You know how most every au where the JL meet Danny and try to intimidate him, he just intimidates them back and does his best to give a "don't fuck with me" or "im tired leave me alone" vibe to try to make them back off? That or he's star struck. What if he decides to do something else. See, he does still do the intimidation thing to the random cults that summon him every other Tuesday. But the first time the JL does it? He decides to go a slightly different route to make them leave him alone.

Danny knows that the heroes don't take their young side kicks into the big fights. He knows they don't like it when kids get involved. He hates being referred to as a kid, but he's still 16 and well... why not use the heroes weakness against them? Instead of making himself a big and intimidating as he can, he makes his crown a bit to big so it keeps falling in his eyes, the fluff of his cape extra big so it all but swallow his neck and chin, lengthens it so that it drags on the ground just a bit, he has a sword that isn't the type he learned to fight with but is close so he seems off balance and untrained. He makes it look like everything is made for someone bigger and older than he is. He tells them freely that he is the *new* king, that he took Dark's place a year and a half ago. He tells them freely that he is 14 (technically not a lie). He makes sure to trip on his cape at least twice before he leaves.

After all, what better way to make sure they never summon them again than to make them feel guilt and horror at the thought of doing so?

Well what Danny didn't account for is most of the JL deciding "im gunna adopt the child and teach him how to use his powers properly."

Danny trying to make himself seem small and weak is probably the worst way to get the JL to leave him alone. Might as well have hit himself in a box with a "free to a good home" sign. Of course, a Phantom cross trained by all the league members would be insane. Like, hand to hand with Wonder Woman. Detective skills with Batman. Plus, can you imagine Superman tearing into Clockwork for allowing a child to take the throne?

I'd like this made into a full length story please.

[okiesoapie]

permafrost

kaeya alberich x reader

inspired by @hiraya-rawr’s post here

notes: established relationship, heavy angst, slight gore(?),

tw: major character death

Despite his seemingly friendly exterior, Kaeya Alberich was a cold man. His touch could give frostbite, and his words could leave one frozen. Life had him build walls of ice around his heart. A fortress impenetrable to all except you.

You, with your sunny disposition and comforting warmth. You, a traveling merchant who settled in Mondstat. As long as Kaeya had you by his side it felt like sunlight was warming him from head to toe, soothing the chill in his heart. You were like a fireplace on a freezing night, one that Kaeya couldn’t help but huddle closer to. The pain of his past was all worth it if it meant he could have you.

Kaeya didn’t realize the true meaning of “the light of my life” until he married his.

A newlywed man shouldn’t be working the day away, he muses to himself while eyeing paperwork. Kaeya had stayed in bed with you that morning for as long as he could, peppering kisses against your bare skin. Maybe even lingering by the doorstep to give you “one last kiss” goodbye.

Fidgeting with his wedding band (part of a matching set, with a sapphire in it’s center), he truly couldn’t wait to go home. It was funny how things he used to think of as mundane were much more pleasant when with you. All he could think about was having dinner together then relaxing with you in his embrace until he fell asleep.

Another busy day for the ever inefficient Favonius Knights. Kaeya found himself at Windrise with his order. It turned out that caravan carrying imported goods from Liyue had collapsed during a raid. 3 dead, 4 wounded. Kaeya planned to finish this efficiently yet as quickly as possible, so he could once again resume newly-wedded bliss.

Then, at a glance, he saw it. The faint glimmer of blue that he saw every morning in your shared bed. On the hands that passed him a cup of coffee before work. On the fingers that caressed his face, around his blind spot, during intimate moments. A glittering blue stone embedded in a silver band. A symbol of his love and hopes for the future.

Kaeya walked hesitantly to the the wrecked carriage paying little mind to the frost that followed him in his wake. His boots thumped heavily against the soil. Tendrils of ice scattered over pebbles and grass. You had told him that morning, over your morning coffee, that you were going to oversee a shipment of goods from Liyue. You had told him, when he kissed you goodbye, that you would see him at home.

Kaeya believed in your words like a devout worshipper, like a faithful man before the Divine. You were the only truth in a sea of a hundred lies. If you said you would be home, you would be. You had never lied to him. Not once.

Until today.

The hand found under the rubble, wearing a sapphire wedding ring, was devoid of life. Kaeya bent down and gave it a squeeze. You didn’t respond. He gripped you again, a little harder this time, and yet you remained limp in his hand. The metal band felt bitterly cold against Kaeya’s palm. A mockery to his belief that his happiness could last forever.

It felt like an eternity and a minute before they could get your body from under the wreckage. Kaeya scooped you into his arms and held you against his chest. He rocked you back and forth while burying his face into your hair. Kaeya felt his own chest rise and fall against your unmoving body. Whatever semblance of warmth you had left, he would take it. Kaeya would soak you into his skin until he was swallowed whole.

“Please,” he whispered, “it can be anyone. Anyone but you.”

You didn’t respond. You did nothing except lie still in his arms. Kaeya laced your hands together, so that both rings were touching. He wanted to scream. Cry until his voice was shattered. Yell so loud that it was certain you would hear him from the other side. Instead Kaeya pressed his lips to your face, staining your cheeks with his tears.

“It’s so, so cold.”

Windrise, with all its greenery, felt like an icy tundra, and he was a straggler caught in its snowstorm. The world had suddenly dropped a hundred degrees, and you had taken all of it’s warmth with you.

————

a/n: hello everyone! probably will rewrite this in the future because this is my first angst fic, but I hope you liked it :))

[boredandelusive]

Before It’s Too Late - XVI (16).

I switched majors. Music is my minor now, but Chemistry is my major now. It makes more sense for me to go into a major that makes more money than the other. Chemists as a base amount of money make more than music professors as a whole. Just gotta set myself up for the future now, even if I don’t necessarily like it. It’s finals week, but I should be back to uploading fairly regularly. Hope you enjoy!

"I had not realized it was your job to spit lies about the past, Istaroth," Tsaritsa seemed unpleased by the voice of the Elder God at her side. "To say that Mayla was too weak to step in place of Carin or Laila with interaction sounds false."

"But it is the truth, Tsaritsa. If you do not believe the words I say, you are more than welcome to go to Celestia and see for yourself. If I had to assume, I would think Mayla's weakness in power and strength may be the reason Celestia grew corrupt." Istaroth explained, stepping in front of the archon.

"The reason Celestia grew corrupt is that the Shining Shades of the Sisters did not do their job," the woman spat, though the Shade shook her head. "And as many times as you try to deny it, you have not once put an effort in to interact with the people of Tevyat. Dare I say that you act more like Mayla's Shining Shade than Laila's."

"If you had a better reach on everything that occurred in the Archon War, you would know that I have been sealed away for centuries, but even then, I have interacted with humanity. If you know your history at all, you would know about the people of Enkanomiya. All other gods, including yourself, had never payed attention to such a nation falling into the ocean. I was the one who ensured the people would be safe. You have no right to tell me how I interact with the people of this world." There weren't many times that Istaroth would go to this harsh tone of words.

"Now I see just how similar you are to your mother. Should I ask how Mayla would cause Celestia's corruption, or are you going to hold out information about that?" Though the Cryo Archon had her reasons for hating Celestia as a whole, she needed to know why things turned out the way they did.

"I'm not sure if you are old enough to remember the cause of the Archon War," Istaroth starts, though the Tsaritsa tilted her head.

"The death of Carin, the Sister over the Stars," that was common knowledge to any of the gods that remained, though it was also known to historians. The more intricate details were left out, and it would only be known by those who told the true story of Carin's death.

"Yes, but were you there to witness what happened in full? Were you there to witness Laila's leave, and the words she said? If you were there to witness everything in retrospect, then I can tell you everything that happened afterwards." Istaroth knew there was only so much history passed down between gods, leaving a lot to be forgotten.

"Frostbite..." the Tsaritsa said randomly, causing Istaroth to look at Laila's fingers. Everything from the tips of the fingers to the knuckles was covered in black. By the first appearance, it would look like frostbite, but it was not the same.

"This is not frostbite, I fear. Laila's body has never been so sensitive, not to cold." There was only so much Istaroth could guess, though she knew now was not the time to question things. "There is something else at play, and I need to go investigate it."

"Here I thought you were supposed to protect Laila's body, but your leave would suggest otherwise," the cryo archon had things in play that the Shining Shade wasn't aware of, and though Istaroth could put in the time to find out, there wasn't enough time.

"Do not think for a second that you will have complete access to Laila's body. There are others who look after her body in my absence." Soon following her words, Istaroth left her body to be unconscious. Before Laila's body could slump to the ground, the Tsaritsa caught her body. It would be rude of an archon to disrespect such actions.

"So you're heading to Sumeru next? The land of wisdom," Miko says, yet her tone made it sound like a resented question. "It's to the left of Liyue, specifically their Mining Ground, better known as the Chasm. The Dendro Archon, Lesser Lord Kusanali, hasn't been seen in over five hundred years. A lot of her people think she is just the legacy of Greater Lord Rukkhadevata."

"Then what happened to the Greater Lord of Sumeru?" Lumine asked, causing Yae to turn to the Sacred Sakura.

"The Cataclysm of 500 years ago caused a lot of our gods to disappear, having new archons to take their place. By now, the only original archons from the Archon War are Morax and Barbatos." The answer wasn't as startling, but now something felt wrong. Holding her head in pain, Lumine's finger burned. "What's the matter?"

"Lumine!" Paimon's voice rose, hoping whatever it was would disappear. Instead, the blonde fell to her knees. Darkness clouded her vision, and yet she could still see the things around her. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"Laila, are you not going to join us by creating the first of our statues?" Carin asked as she glanced to the youngest sister, though she tilted her head.

"Don't tell me you want to make the statues and put some of your essence into them? Causing a vital source of cleansing the darkness of your Soul Gems to be left in this world is a very dangerous and ignorant move." Laila says with ease, though it solidified her standing on not joining them.

"Do you really hold such little faith in your creations that you would not place trust in them?" Mayla asked in an almost offended tone. "You were the one that drew humanity and all creatures with your hand."

"And the same gods I created have fear about erosion. I wasn't even aware of such a thing until I had watched Aerala pass away from erosion. Time moves on, and though Istaroth is still too young to understand her duties as a shining shade, if that means that humanity could go on without remembering everything, I want to avoid a future where I am forgotten. These statues don't have to contain your life-force." Her tone had a harsher judgement than how she would speak to her sisters normally.

"Now that makes it sound like there is something else behind your words. Do you know something about the future that you are hiding from us?" Carin was the sister of the future, and she was sure the stars she put in the sky showed the right fate. The only time she wouldn't know something about herself was the drawback of her wish.

"You both remember when I told you about the premonitions I would get as a human, right? Even now, after my wish, my powers have only gotten stronger. I have seen both of your deaths. The cracks in your sculptures on this statue cannot be fixed. Putting some of your essence into these statues, and with both of your ideas to settle for Teyvat, will lead to your deaths." Laila's eyes watered, and yet her sisters did not fully listen to her words.

"Laila, you know as well as I do, your premonitions do not always come true. There is still the chance that something could go wrong, yes, but there is an even bigger chance that something better would happen! Everything will be fine. You know this as well as I do." Mayla’s attempts to bring solace to her sister's vision could only go so far, especially because she knew there were times Laila's vision was incorrect.

"Even then, I will not put a sliver of my essence into the statues. You both can, but I don't want to bring anything to chance." Laila left her two siblings alone, and though both sisters were deeply saddened by her leave.

Lumine's vision cleared up, yet she still had an ever-growing headache she couldn't get rid of. "Traveler?" Paimon's voice sounded distant, yet there was the sound of something else. If Lumine couldn't place it immediately, she would think it was the sound of laughter. Pained laughter, as if whoever was laughing did not want to laugh.

As the blonde's head lifted, darkened eyes stared straight, not the golden eyes of the renowned traveler. A pain in her chest grew where one's soul would be, would've been. That's when it clicked to her that this pain was not her own, and not of her own soul. "Lumine, what's the matter?" Now even Miko sounded serious, far past the coy tone she wore.

Holding her hand out, the ring adorned on her finger burned. As Laila's darkened soul gem formed. The sight of the darkened soul gem was unsettling, and though Paimon didn't know what it meant, Miko understood immediately. Because the kitsune was the Head Shrine Maiden, she moved to pull out her Gohei, tapping the blackened soul gem.

The two shide began glowing, though the glow quickly grew to darkness. In the same instance, some of the taint within Laila's soul gem had disappeared. The sign of Lumine's pain had dissipated quickly, though Paimon helped to her to stand up. “Your Grace?”

“I may need to get back to my body sooner than I would like to admit. Faleon still has not come back to me, and Mayla is mere seconds away from being a witch.” Laila was still the youngest sister of the three. She had not fully reached the same level of maturity Carin and Mayla had. That was the reason Guuji Yae suspected Laila was avoiding the fate the stars had not written.

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TAGLIST - @lilqi​ @magica-ren​ @karmawonders​ @atsukawolfcat​ @sheepispink​ @mynameis-star​ 

[fakesurprise]

The late shift had benefits. Better pay, and learning more about how a small dental office made a genuine profit in a Podunk little town. Late night was when the interesting customers arrived: men from the city who paid in cash, students who tried to pay with drugs, elderly people who had simply misjudged time and knew we were open late.

I hadn't expected anyone tonight. The roads were icy, snow falling outside. I was drinking office coffee and watching a forgettable Netflix movie when a cough caught my attention.

I glanced up in surprise. I hadn't heard the door open. The man in the waiting was a balding, rotund fellow in a cheap jacket for the season, scarf on and a hand over his mouth.

"This is the dentist, yes?" he said, the words slightly lisped.

I nodded and stood. "Kim Li. I started a year ago."

He frowned, the nodded. "I forget to come in, sometimes. Tonight I need aid."

"Can I have your name?"

"I am not in the system. That is my arrangement with Dr. Andersen."

Not the first customer for that. I pulled out the recipe box that contained the other files. "Name?"

"Reginald Thwipplestout."

I blinked, but I had heard stranger. Some parents had clearly never wanted children, and it often manifested in cruel names. I flipped through the files, and his was so yellowed I could barely make it out. The instruction was: 'No Cash. Do what he asks.'

I looked up. "Everything seems to be in order. How can I held you?"

He winced, hissing a little like a cat, and removed his hand. And showed bared fangs.Real, actual fangs. Not his canines, so they must grow out from behind them.

"Those aren't your normal teeth? How do the work?"

The vampire blinked. Blinked again. "Dentists," he said finally.

"I - sorry. What do you need?"

"Something hot? I was trying to bite a lovely young man in the park but he had some odd metal necklace and between that and the cold -." The vampire winced. "I can't get my fangs to go back to normal."

"I don't understand?"

"Frostbite. I have frostbite," he mumbled.

Somehow, I did not laugh. We went into the back, I warmed some water and gloves, massaging his mouth and teeth until the fangs retracted.

He smiled. He had a very nice smile, once he wasn't in pain, and then he was gone so quickly I barely saw him leave.

I got a bonus on my next cheque.

It was never discussed.

[vuldak-juneau]

Juneau could see through his lies nearly as quickly as he could identify when she was being dishonest. His lie wasn’t what she found interesting, though. If she had to suffer this fool, she was at least curious as to why he felt compelled to lie. Plenty of people were going without rest as a compulsory part of their duty, but they didn’t lie about it. “Oh, really? When?” she asked, arms folded and tone direct. She didn’t believe him, and since he had no qualms about making his disbelief in her answers plain, neither did she. “Two, three weeks ago? I see you surveying others all the time, and somehow every time I lay down to rest, wake back up, and just about everything in between there you are. I beg of you–humor me. Why?” 

In an alternative setting, or perhaps a different phase of the moon, his vigilance might not be so irksome, but everything bothered her these days and his presence seemed to be unrelenting. As did his optimism. She blew a puff of breath through her nose. “For now? Sure, now until the next time we get ambushed,” she scoffed. However, if pressed to be realistic they were moving a little faster than she’d expected now that all of those sick with the blight were expired. Perhaps she ought to mourn those souls, but it felt more like the troupe had cut weight from a ship whose sinking was inevitable. 

Her hands settled on her hips as she watched him size her up. Even bundled into every layer of ratty cloth, worn clothing, and scraps of animal pelts she could find she was barely more than a slip of a girl. She was thin–thinner than normal as the journey starved and worn on an already small frame. It was a miracle the few fingers that poked through the hokes and missing fingers of the gloves she had managed to find weren’t lost to frostbite yet. Even so, a foxlike grin crossed her sharp features. However, the smile wasn’t exactly emoting happiness. “Of course it isn’t, but you had to stop and think about it,” she pointed out as if it was a small victory. “What is it my pa always used to tell me? You can’t bullshit a bullshitter? You didn’t fall for it, so I guess that makes you a bullshitter.” 

Juneau thought she had achieved some sort of small victory when he returned to tending the dying embers of his fire. She turned to make her exit again but halted when she heard his voice.  She could have guessed that he would try to tag along. The amount of people whom her protesting would rouse wasn’t worth the trouble, not when she could lose him in the woods. “I guess you better go fetch an ax,” she mumbled irritatedly as she began to march toward where he sat at the edge of the resting area completely unaware that what she said to him mirrored his reasoning for doubting her intentions just seconds earlier.

"I've had plenty of sleep already." He lied, shifting his gaze between her and the fire. She spoke the truth, although they were moving, it was not near satisfactory, some would blame the sick and the injured for that, but Alder only saw them as the ones that needed help the most, and that's what he was there for, even though the needs and urges would soon prevail - he could already feel weakness take over slowly as the darkness inside of him grew stronger in an attempt to survive. "It is enough for now..." At least they were moving, even if not as mucha as one would like, which meant they were getting farther and farther away from the problems of Iskaldrik.

Alder lifted his gaze towards hers finally, taking his time to look at her properly this time as he pondered about what she'd just said, looking for signs of what she was speaking of, but ultimately failing to see how she could be scarier than a creature of the Blight. Maybe youth really was that scary. "Is that so...?" He asked, trying not to sound unimpressed, offering her a soft smile. It was not good to contradict the newer generations as he'd been told, after all, they were the future and it would be best if the future didn't lose hope and bravery.

By herself? In the dark? Without an axe? The thoughts filled Alder's mind for a moment. He placed two of the left few pieces of dried wood in the fire so they'd burn for a few more minutes and got up. "Let's do it then, I'll help you with it." It was important to keep the fire alive as to not allow the group to freeze to death, so even though he knew she didn't mean it when she said she was going to collect wood, it'd be good to have another helping-hand. "You don't want to turn into an ice cube, do you?"

[imtiredthatsalligot]

Snow Day

Okay so this post by @broosepayne  had a CHOKEHOLD on me until I did something about about it. It was supposed to be short.. like a couple of paragraphs. ANYWAYS HAVE THIS THING I GUESS? (ignore all the errors I wrote this in a fit of hyperfixation. )

Bruce’s first snowball fight wasn’t really a snowball fight. It was Clark tossing a single snowball in his general direction and the powder bursting across his armor before falling back to the ground. Clark said it counted. Bruce wants it to count. He's not so sure it does.

Bruce’s first real snowball fight takes a long time, but the timeframe didn’t really matter to Bruce because snowball fights weren’t important and they never were. If they were as imperative to childhood as Clark insists that they were, then they would have shown up in one of his parenting books, and what about the children that lived in warmer climates? What were they to do? What then Clark? Check and Mate. (There’s something in Clark’s eye when Bruce mentions this that he pretends not to see. One that's plagued him since that night in the alley. A deep sorrow that lies somewhere between pity and sympathy, like avoiding getting hit in the face by something cold and wet isn’t something to be proud of and Bruce ignores how it makes everything burn restlessly underneath his skin.)

There’s a commotion in the front yard, the yelling could be heard all the way through the kitchen windows, but the thick blanket of snow and bright sun reflecting off of it made it hard to tell what was actually going on. Alfred tasked Bruce to investigate with fond annoyance. Bruce didn’t really want to get between whatever new argument had sprung up, but that was still preferable to disagreeing with Alfred. Bruce expected it to take more than a few minutes to coerce his children back inside and away from possible bloodshed so he tugged on boots and his coat trudged outside to see how close they were to fratricide.

As he got closer to the figures on the sprawling lawn Bruce’s resignation quickly turned to suspicion when he saw more than just the two or three kids he was expecting and was instead met with all of them, bundled up in the snow. He was surprised to hear shrieking laughter instead of violent threats. He narrowed his eyes against the shimmering landscape and saw Jason’s shoulder explode in glittering white powder accompanied by Damian’s daring cry of victory.

“Oh you’re so gonna pay for that, brat!” Jason yelled, but it was far from his usual vindictive tone. Bruce could see the smile that played on his lips as Jason swiped a gloved hand through the ground.

Bruce looked around in contemplation, catching sight of the scattered boot prints in chaotic circles, the divots where snow was collected and thusly where it had been freshly layered over the smooth surface. There was a large trench that ended with a ball half the size of Damian, a snowman that had been abandoned by the fight, the person-shaped indents from snow angels. 

Tim’s scarf had come loose and was knocked off him completely as Cass threw a snowball straight to his chest. Steph bursted into laughter at the sight. Damian seemed to be using Dick as a human shield to avoid the barrage of Jason’s snowballs. Dick couldn’t seem to be able to do anything else but shield his face with his arms with how hard he was laughing. Limbs shaking with the effort.

Everyone seemed to be covered in snow, it was in their hair, on their hats, shoulders, collected into the creases of jackets, pants and boots. How long had they been outside? They were all going to catch frostbite.

Bruce cleared his throat, having gone unnoticed this whole time and they all froze, a dramatic mimicry of the weather they were in. Arms pausing mid-throw and eyes turned towards him in panic. The laughter died in an instant and Bruce suddenly wished he hadn’t said anything at all. Shouldn’t have interrupted whatever moment they were having to soothe his own curiosity.  

“What are you doing?” Bruce asked, it sounded like an accusation. He hadn’t meant for it to be one.

Jason cocked an eyebrow, hackles raised, a telltale signal that he was ready to start a fight.

“We’re having a snowball fight,” An accusation thrown right back at him. 

“Grayson called it training,” Damian said, puffing out his chest, as if that were the superior term. As if calling it training would be more acceptable. He was still holding a snowball behind his back, hiding it from Bruce like he’d caught him stealing from the cookie jar. Bruce felt a stab of guilt, hands curling in his pockets at the thought that Damian felt like he needed to hide the act in the first place. 

“Call it what you want Damian, it’s still a snowball fight,” Tim said, shaking snow out of his fallen scarf, preparing himself to go back inside. 

“Grayson said-“

“I don’t care what Goldie says-“

Their voices started to overlap in argument. Air tense and heavy merely by Bruce’s existence. Stephanie and Tim’s voices joined the cacophony and Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose in response. He opened his mouth to put an end to the arguing but was abruptly stopped by something hitting him across the face.

Bruce recoiled and opened his eyes through the stinging cold, snowflakes clinging to his eyelashes, to stare at the deep blue eyes of his eldest. Dick’s smile grew as his hand fell back to his side. Everyone else was left in stunned silence. 

Steph gaped in mild horror. Tim and Cass shared a look of apprehension, unsure of what to expect next, eyes pinging between Bruce and Dick like a tennis match. Jason scowled at Dick in an indecipherable accusation, hands clenched in preparation for some sort of rejection. Damian looked lost, uncertain of whose side to take. Not a single one of their expressions held an ounce of the previous delight or amusement, just a tense, almost fearful suspicion of Bruce’s reaction.  

Bruce brushed the snow from his face and glanced back to Dick. Dick’s eyes gleamed with a fierce determination, a wicked smile turning the corners of his mouth into hysterical mirth. A smile that Bruce was sure could cause cities to burn in violent merriment, one that Bruce hadn’t been on the receiving end of since Dick had still worn a yellow cape. The air around him thrummed with excitement, energy pulsing beneath the surface of his body. Yelling at Bruce with something deep within Dick’s soul. Screaming in abject defiance.  I dare you. 

I dare you. 

I dare you.

It wasn’t an insult, it wasn’t born from bitterness or scorn. It was just a challenge, a courageous endeavor that Dick was inviting him on. Something inside of Bruce’s chest roared and turned his gaze back to the oppressive silence of everyone else.

“Damian?”

Damian looked at him in surprise, mouth tugged into a curious frown at being singled out. 

“…yes, father?” 

“Give me that snowball,”

Damian’s eyebrows scrunched together but handed over the hidden snowball. Jason’s frown turned to a disbelieving smile, everyone else reigning themselves into thinly veiled excitement. Keeping one step away from true expression in case Bruce walked away. They were expecting him to walk away. He turned to see Dick. Dick who has shifted his stance, a righteous ball of vitality ready for the chase. Dick, who knew exactly what was about to happen. 

Bruce took one step forward and Dick cackled and took off like a shot. Dancing through the snow as if his own excitement was enough to make him fly. Bruce followed after him and threw. The snowball catching Dick exactly where he had aimed, and exactly where Dick let himself be hit. Bruce couldn’t help the smile that overtook his face. 

There was a screeching behind him and Bruce found Jason shoveling snow down Tim’s jacket before being assaulted by one of Cass's snowballs. Soon everyone was back in the same rhythm they were in before. Laughter filling the air with a lightness Bruce rarely allowed himself to relax into. 

Bruce caught Dick unawares, clutching his stomach in spitting laughter as Steph and Damian crashed the abandoned snowman against Jason and toppled him over. Bruce took the opportunity to duck and haul Dick into a fireman’s carry. Dick squirmed and let out scattered “Don’t!- don’t- Bruce! -don’t-“ that they both knew he didn’t really mean. His cries for help went unanswered and Cass assailed them both in snowballs. Bruce turned to make sure Dick got the brunt of it, covering his ink black hair in white, happiness and contentment warming his whole body at the sound of Dick’s enjoyment. 

Bruce called for Jason and he hauled himself out of the snowpile to come over to them, his smile making him look much more like the boy Bruce had raised than the hardened hero he had recently become.  

“Hold his arms, will you,” He asked, laying Dick on the ground between them. Jason grinned and took Dicks forearms while Bruce grabbed his legs and the two of them swung Dick into the nearest snowbank. Everyone fell over themselves with laughter, Dick’s cries of protest barely audible. 

But when Dick reappeared from the pile and was brushing himself off, Bruce could see Dick formulating his revenge, and he knew he was in for it now.  Dick met the eyes of the rest of the kids and with one head tilt back to Bruce, they bombarded him. Birds of prey ready to feast and play. 

Bruce took the rapid onslaught of snowballs admirably and attacked whoever he could when he got an opening. Eventually they all turned back to attacking whoever was in reach and the chaos continued. Going going going until they were too exhausted and cold to keep it up. Still, Bruce’s cheeks ached from smiling and none of them seemed to be able to wipe the grins from their faces or escape the occasional giggles and snickers. 

Bruce laid back from where he had been pushed into the snow, and smiled. He supposed he could understand the appeal of snowball fights now.

[fortheloveoffanfic]

Snow Day

12 Days of Christmas Writing Event- Day 6

Thomas Shelby x Reader (A/n- deleted this and re-posting cause it didn't show up in the tags and I'm apparently desperate for attention. I'm so sorry lol)

Masterlist 12 Days of Christmas Writing Event Masterlist

Prompt 10-“It’s a beautiful day!” “It’s fucking freezing.” “That’s why it’s beautiful.”

Warnings- none

Simply saying that it was cold might have been the understatement of the decade. It was freezing; even in gloves, a thick coat, a hat, socks, shoes and a scarf, Thomas was inclined to think that his fingernails were about to frost up and fall off. His toes felt like they were nearing the point of frostbite and his nose, well, he didn’t think he could even feel it anymore. It had been snowing heavily all night into the morning, and the grounds of Arrow house had been blanketed with a thick layer of scenic white, the cobblestone buried beneath while the fountain was frozen over.

If it were up to Thomas, they’d be inside, probably in bed still, at the very least, in front of a fire, maybe with a bottle of whiskey for added warmth. But Y/n, his wonderful Y/n who had ushered light into his life, adored the snow. She loved having to bundle up in thick layers, she loved the crunch of freshly fallen powder under her boot-clad feet, and most of all, she loved the cold. That brisk chill that burnt their skin after a gentle breeze, it might have been one of her favorite things about winter. So, while he absolutely abhorred winter and everything that came with it, for his love, he would brave the biting cold and venture out into the garden, where her well-kept roses were buried beneath three inches of bone-chilling white.

Y/n had long deserted his hand, much to Thomas’ unspoken disappointment, and had ventured further off, nearer to the fence. Her hands were wrapped around herself, while her hat was pulled low, guarding the top of her face and Y/n was so bundled up by layers of the finest wool, that had he not known her so completely, she might have been unrecognizable. But Thomas Shelby knew his wife; he could pick her out of England’s endless sea, effortlessly, simply by the way she held herself. Grace and elegance, those were the words he had for her. Striking and handsomely brutish, those were her words for him.

Rubbing his palms together, Thomas followed Y/n through the grounds, watching as she stopped at some point to gather handfuls of snow in her gloved hands, only to let it sift through her fingers moments later. "Isn't it lovely?" She stood again, turning to face him, features alight with joy.

"It's…….." Extremely uncomfortable, absolutely horrid, "It's alright," Thomas lied. It wasn't his usual nature to undersell a truth like that, but Thomas didn't like disappointing her, nor did he want to dampen her mood.

Despite his halfheartedly delivered fib though, Y/n slumped her shoulders in disappointment, "You hate it," she declared. She'd always been so intuitive, easily seeing though even his best facades, and often, Thomas thought it was why they were so good together; for every show of bravado, for every time he proved to the world that Thomas Shelby was one to fear, Y/n saw the man beneath it all, the man who spent too much time thinking, the man who often battled unspoken guilt. She saw that man, and she loved him, without condition or condemnation.

"I hate it," he succumbed, licking his lips and feeling his pockets for his cigarettes. Upon finding them, he slipped one out of the case and lit it up, taking an extended pull.

"But I don't understand why," Y/n reasoned with a soft chuckle, "Its a beautiful day!" She gestured elaborately, opening her arms wide and facing her palms upward so she could catch some of the falling flakes.

"Its fucking freezing," Thomas grumbled, drawing in another drag of his cigarette.

“That’s why its beautiful,” she laughed wildly and Thomas couldn’t help but smile at the melodic sound. He adored her laugh, it was so real and unadulterated. Y/n laugh made him feel younger, it reminded him that despite every one of his misdeeds, somehow, he’d been afforded the kind of love some could only dream of.

After one final pull, blowing the blue-tinted, tobacco hued plume into frigid air, Thomas tossed the remnants of his cigarette to the snow, instantly putting it out. With the faintest hint of an amused grin tugging at his features, he closed the distance between him and Y/n and his hands found her hips, while hers found his biceps, “You like it?” He hummed, meeting her gorgeous, wide eyes.

“I love it,” her smile softened as she stepped closer, pressing her chest to his, “But if you don’t, we can go back inside.”

“No,” he leaned down, swiftly planting a peck on her bare lips, smiling at their warmth, “My toes will probably freeze, but it’s fucking worth it,” to see her smile, hear her laugh and know that he’d played a part in making her so incomparably happy, it was worth it.

“Really?” Her eyes were hopeful and affectionately, she squeezed Thomas’ arms. “You mean that?”

“Of course I mean that,” he leaned down, capturing her lips in a casual endearment, not one over driven by unchecked passion, nor one that was innocent and subdued. Simply put, it was just warm and exuding the comfort that Thomas always associated with her; she was safe, she was right, she was love.

“Now,” he began when they parted for air, “Are we going to take a fucking walk or not?”

Laughing loudly, Y/n shook her head as she turned, falling into step next to Thomas and locking her arm with his at the elbow, “We are, you grumpy old man,” she giggled, leaning her head on his shoulder.

Smiling, despite himself, Thomas rested his cheek on the top of Y/n’s head as he clarified, “Your grumpy old man,” promoting another episode of saccharine laughter from the only person that could make a snowy day bearable.