#ghost!dream au

[rainystressed247]

The AU decided by twitter is Ghost!Dream.

He is but a little guy though intimidating at first glance, he has a soft spot for children!

[brick-a-doodle-do]

@a-xyz-s I GOT IT!! AFTER 20 ATTEMPTS I FINALLY FOUND A GOOD OPENING TO THIS FIC

[eriscary]

「 Passing Ghost 」 FIRST || next => I have first few pages pre-made, so let's start this train. Ink Sans - Comyet Dream Sans - Jokublog Killer Sans - RahafWabas

[bluegiragi]

careful johnny. you might just give him some ideas.

early access + nsfw on patreon

[technically-human]

May I offer you a Charwin in these trying times?

@i-am-as-normal-as-you-are commissioned this one to try and cheer everyone up! :) Charwin loves grannies, and grannies love him

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

MDZS x ISAT part 1: In Stars and Necromancy.

(Part 2)

[prettygrltatum]

I’m going to be hopping onto the Viking au right now because I’m literally in love with right now lol.

The way you and Simon first meet was actually him hunting for the village weekly feast. He was dragging around his dead game, waiting to be roasted and glazed with honey. Simon stopped for a moment as he counted how many arrows he had left. One..two..ten..fifteen. He didn’t care, he was ready to go home anyways. Just a few more pigs and deers and that should enough on his part.

Meanwhile you, a girl from a smaller, lesser know village. As the cleric and medic of your village you were expected to the berries during the fall before all of the plants and berries died. Your village was very strict for that, knowing that they had a long history of men, women’s no children dying to common sickness and yet not having enough to save their unfortunate lives.

Simon started to prepare his bow as he saw a fluffy sheep graze by. And my was this sheep rather fluffy. He placed the bow carefully on the bow, drawing it back. His eyes trained closely on the sheep.

You bent and picked up the precious berries, checking if they had fungus on them. You arose from the ground to feel a slice on your face. The blood trickled down your cheek and under your chin. “Ah! W-who goes there?” You sheepishly screamed. You clutch the tiny dragged tipped with poison. Simon head rose from the log he hid behind. He finally realized he didn’t hit a sheep, but rather a pretty lady dressed in warm sheep coat. “Ma’am I apologize. I mistook you for a sheep.”

Your cheeks puffed up as you placed your hand on your hips. “A sheep! How dare you!” You huffed. You stomp softly to him, chest puffed up. “Yes, I am sorry. I can make it up to you by taking you to the feast held at my village.” He offered.

“What village are you from?” You asked, holding the basket of berries in your hands. “Spec.” He mumbled. You gasped as you realize the village name. You’ve heard of how strong their leader was and how he was able to save his village from nasty beast and greedy pillagers. “Spec! Your leader must extremely strong! I’ve heard story of you all. We’re nothing compared to yours.”

“Well, then lets go. I can show how really strong we are at the feast.” Simon quickly walked away leaving you stunned. “H-hey! Wait for me!”

[dragonnarrative-writes]

Kinktober Day 4 - Lingerie

College!AU - SimonxKyle

CW: Smut, 18+/MDNI, He/They genderqueer Kyle in lingerie, anal sex, dub-con, forced orgasm, pre-nut insanity, post-nut clarity, gross college boys don't clean up after themselves

"Oh fuck, Si-imon." 

Kyle is a mess. He can't feel his legs, can barely keep himself up on his elbows as Simon pushes into him again.

His normally stoic boyfriend had come over after rugby practice with Soap and Roach, like usual. Kyle had taken the afternoon for himself, like he did every week. Unlike last week, Kyle had a new lingerie set under his robe when he'd met them in the kitchen, but besides a lingering glance at the almost sheer stockings, Simon had greeted him, the same as he always did, with a soft kiss to his temple.

Dinner had come and gone. Soap had tried to sneak a peak under Kyle's robe, because he's a perv. Roach had stolen his potatoes while he was distracted. Simon had covered Kyle's exposed bra strap with his robe, then set back into his chicken. Normal.

Well, still waters must run deep because as soon as Kyle's bedroom door closed behind them for the night, Simon pounced.

Now, Kyle's arms do give out. He gasps, "Simon, I can't-! I can't come again!"

"'s okay, beautiful," Simon pants against the back of his neck, pace quickening. One big hand gropes past torn lace to pinch at Kyle's nipple. "'ll get you there, I know you can."

"I really can't," Kyle hiccups. "I'm gonna pass out."

"C'mon, pretty," Simon coaxes. "Got all dressed up for me, you c'n take a little more. 'll help you."

Something on the cheap garter belt pops when Simon pulls out and flips Kyle on his back. Through tears of overstimulation, Simon looks wild eyed, desperate, like Kyle's been teasing him. Certainly, he doesn't look like he's already come three times. Kyle had thought he'd have to do some laundry magic when Simon had spilled his cum between the panties and the garter belt with a bitten back shout, but now? There was nothing left worth saving.

A groan is pushed out of Kyle when Simon almost folds him in half and then pushes back in, hissing from his own oversensitivity. He sobs, he can't help it. One of his flailing arms grips the sheets and pulls, trying to get away.

"Where'd'ya think y're goin'?" Simon growls, setting his knee on the bed and yanking Kyle back into himself. He laughs, breathless. "One more, 'n you c'n kick me out."

"D'n't wanna kick you out," Kyle slurs.

That was apparently the wrong thing to say, because Simon's thrusts become even harder. "No? Wanna let me ruin your pretty things s'more? God, lookit'chu. Pretty stockin's, lace all ripped up. Fuck. Wanted t' bend y'over in the kitchen, almost gave the lads a show, fuck, y're so pretty, baby. C'n feel you workin' up, gonna come for me one more time, gonna come in your pretty panties for me again?"

"Si!"

"Yeah, say my name when you come," he groans. He wraps his hand around Kyle's cock, rough palm tearing the lace even more. He whines, then, hand sliding in Kyle's cum from a previous orgasm. "Oh fuck, Kyle, y're so wet, babe, yeah, come for me, one more time, wanna feel it-"

The roaring in Kyle's ears drowns out whatever else Simon is saying as his whole body locks up. He comes dry, and it feels so good it hurts. He thinks he wheezes some approximation of Simon's name, but he can't even hear himself think at this point, vision going white around the edges as Simon grunts his own release, again.

(When they both come to, half an hour later, Simon goes so red Kyle is worried he'll pass out again. Whatever loosened his brain-to-mouth filter is long gone, and he only gets more consumed by embarrassment when Kyle tells him to just throw the barely held together pieces of lace in the trash.

Kyle puts another set in his online cart before passing out.)

(They both stick to the sheets in the morning.) 

[surreal-duck]

es rarepair week 2024 day 1 | AU/future

lil ghostic au of mine!!! yuzuru and the rest of fine are long since trapped souls in an abandoned mansion of which rst come across while looking for shelter during a storm :] it doesnt um. particularly end well

[xylo-art]

This is BASICALLY the plot of my dreaming kingdom au honestly if you think about it.

[roguelov]

Invisible Hands

Request: Ok. Okokokok from the kinktober list (ignore this if you aren't interested ofc) Morpheus and the ghost prompt. Imagine either the reader or Morpheus is the ghost and the ghost can touch the other but they can't touch the ghost. Like they can be teased endlessly and there's nothing they can grab so extra intense like just imagine if only reader can see ghost Morpheus or he can become invisible then he could tease them anywhere he wanted like the possibilities are corrupting my soul

Notes: Thank you my sweet panini anon!

Word Count: ~2.7k

Reader: afab (referred to as my dear/my love)

Warnings: SMUT (ghost!Morpheus, breast play, fingering, dirty talk, doggy, window/mirror sex, light exhibition, voyeurism, penetrative sex)

Inhaling the aromas, a pleased hum rumbled in your throat and harmonized with the sizzling vegetables in the skillet. Your stomach grumbled, eager and wishing to devour your dinner now. Shaking your head, a joking smile curled over your lips. Soon, you told yourself. Soon you will feast then crawl into bed.

Yet, someone else had plans, someone wanted to disrupt your peace.

Hands - cold and firm - wrapped around your waist. You gasped. Panic flooded your system, but it all quickly dissipated. Frustration, and some embarrassment, swiftly overtook your flash of panic.

“Morpheus,” you hissed under your breath.

A low chuckle reverberated near your ear.

You whipped your head over your shoulder, throwing a heated glare. And yet, there was no one. Perhaps if you squinted you may see the vague wispy outline of a man, or perhaps it was your imagination conjuring such a shape.

“Cheeky,” you grumbled at the empty space.

Morpheus was a ghost, a gentleman from a bygone era struck dead and doomed to haunt the grounds. Unfortunately over the years, the grounds had been purchased and built on. From a shop, to a house, to finally an apartment complex, Morpheus was the one constant that stayed and had become a resident as well so to speak. And best of all - or worst depending on your view - Morpheus in turn had become your ghost, specifically your spectral lover. You weren’t sure when and how it all started, the beginning was all foggy with the thick haze of lust.

But, you didn’t mind.

He was yours, and you were his.

His hands trailed down, slipping under your baggy shirt. Your own hands flew down trying to stop the demanding hands, however they passed through them.

“Morpheus -“

“Pay no mind to me,” a rich voice cooed in your ear. “Please, continue to focus on cooking your dinner.”

You wanted to roll your eyes. “How can I -“

Your breath hitched. His fingers skimmed up your sides then danced below your breasts. Your eyes dropped down. Your shirt was bunched up. The lumps and movements of hands constantly roamed beneath. His touch was insatiable. He wished to map out your curves … again. He truly could never tire of the softness of your skin, the warmth, the life which flowed through you. While due to his nature, he on the other hand was frighteningly cold. His hands were always so cold they were like ice against your searing skin.

His palm pressed into your stomach, making you shiver. His lips brushed over your ear then dipped below to gently kiss your neck. His hand moved back up. A light hum tumbled off your lips. His fingers brushed along the underside of your soft breasts. “No bra?” He murmured with a teasing tone.

A heat licked at your cheeks. “I - I am home, why would I?”

“A valid reason, my dear, but are you sure you were not waiting for me?”

You scoffed, “You give yourself a lot of credit.”

“I believe my work can speak for itself.” His slender fingers pinched your sensitive nipples. Your eyes widened, and you swallowed back a sinful sound. “I do believe I always leave you more than satisfied, yes? But, do correct me if I’m wrong?”

What a smug man.

He then began to knead and play with your breasts, loving how such a delicate task left you panting and growing desperate. His thumbs then swept over your nipples. Electricity shot down your spine. So cold, so wonderful. You dropped the wooden spoon, letting it clatter to the ground. Your vegetables will most likely burn at this right.

Fuck.

Morpheus hummed, pleased to see you holding back. He will make you sing soon enough. Your body was his most cherished instrument. With every tug, every twist, every pluck, he could orchestrate such a sweet melody. Your body will bend to him. And he knew what chords to play, and in what order, to achieve it. Such as if he truly wanted to make you sing right now, he could wrap his lips around your nipples and suck on them. You always made such lovely sounds when his tongue was involved.

“Relax,” he purred.

Fall into me, bend to me, he thought.

You choked on your words, “My - my dinner -“

The stove clicked, shutting off itself. The pan slid to the side off of the hot burner. Morpheus was growing impatient, and his hunger knew no bounds. “Let me take care of you.”

He twisted your nipples. You moaned so beautifully for him. You finally leaned your head back, relieved to have a solid presence to support you. You had no fight, no more retorts.

You wanted him.

His lips skimmed over your neck. Goosebumps trailed behind in their chilly path. He then pressed gentle, loving kisses into your skin. Each one a proclamation of his desire for you. His hands gave your breasts a break. But, not your body. Oh no, like before he wanted to make you sing. They slid down your stomach then traced along the waistband of your shorts. His fingers glided over once, then twice, before dipping below the band. His finger immediately swirled around your clit, then slid between your folds. He swiped between them, rubbing and teasing you.

A devious smile painted across Morpheus’s face. You were dripping for now, and you always were. “So wet,” he smirked. “I thought you said I give myself too much credit.”

“Please,” you whispered breathlessly. You tipped your head back, trying to look back at your lover, at where you believed his eyes were. You reached up, swiping at the space where his face would be for it to only connect with air. “I need you.”

I want to touch you, to feel you, to kiss you.

He snickered. “Allow me to have my fun, my dear. I assure you you will be satisfied as usual.”

“But -“

A finger slowly pushed inside of you. A small yet delicious stretch made your back arch. You bit your lip, holding back your moan. Morpheus’s eyes dazzled with excitement. You truly were so wondrous. He could watch you all day and night, all your cute lovely expressions.

A hand cupped your face, drawing you into the invisible space. Your eyes fluttered closed as you used your other senses to guide you. Cool lips brushed over yours. You chased after them. He huffed, a small laugh through his nose. It was always nice to see you were addicted to him as much as he was to you. He captured your lips. You hummed, melting into him. His lips moved with such precision. He poured hot passion into your veins. He will burn you from the inside out if he must.

Your heart stuttered in your chest as your mind focused solely on his lips, on the feeling of him. You tried to grab him - something - but to no avail.

You were simply at his mercy.

His finger curled inside of you. You moaned loudly, but Morpheus swallowed it up. His tongue dove in between your lips, swirling around. He explored your mouth. His tongue danced with yours. You tried to fight back, but you couldn’t. He consumed you and all your senses. Morpheus dominated you, and your knees trembled with every swipe of his vile tortuous tongue.

But, you shouldn’t focus only on his tongue.

That was your mistake.

His finger began to pump at a lazy pace. How could you forget? His fingers were vile and tortuous too.

He drew back, breaking the kiss. You whined faintly. Your eyes were still closed, your brows furrowed in a frustrated knot, and your lips were utterly abused and sopped from the messy kiss. His finger gradually picked up its pace. Your eyes flew open.

He chuckled, “You, my dear, always amaze me.”

He added a second finger, filling you more and satiated the ache for more. You whimpered, bucking your hips. Deeper, faster, harder, you wanted him to ruin you.

“And always so responsive.”

His fingers curled again hitting the perfect spot. You moan, squirming in his grasp.

His lips brushed against yours again murmuring, “And always so pretty when you come for me.”

Tears prickled in your eyes. You searched and searched wildly but saw nothing, not your Morpheus. All you saw was the dull ceiling and walls of your kitchen. “Morpheus -“

“Shh, I got you. I told you, let me take care of you.”

He removed his fingers with a graphic wet sound. Your cheeks burned. His hands grabbed the hem of your shirt pulling it up and over your head. Your breast spilled into the air. Morpheus wasted no time, pinching your nipples again. You groaned, burying your head towards him. Seeing you so flustered and needy, he supposed he could make this a little faster. His own arousal was becoming difficult to fight back on anyway. With a small trick, he phased your shorts and underwear off your body, leaving you now fully bare in your kitchen. The cold air against your glistening cunt made you shiver. Hands then gently pushed you forward, making you bend over the counter. You pressed your sweaty forehead into the cool countertop. You peered over your shoulder.

Still no one.

You pouted. Yet, your pout dropped as a silent moan fell from your lips. Something teased your folds. You recognized the thick shape as Morpheus’s cock. You pushed back, desperate to take him. But, he pulled back, keeping just his tip between your folds.

“Stop teasing me,” you begged.

His cock rubbed through your folds. He rocked his hips, lightly humping you. Your mind began to splinter. Lust clouded your mind. Needs and wants curled around your throat, threatening to squeeze out all your depraved secrets. You met his shallow thrust, feeling the head of his cock rub against your swollen clit. Each thrust - the mind numbing friction - made you cry out.

“Please,” you panted.

You needed to feel him fill you and stretch you.

“Say it again,” he growled.

You let out a shaky breath, “Please, Morpheus.”

Grabbing his cock, he slowly pushed inside. You clawed at the smooth counter. Inch by delicious inch, he filled your cunt until he bottomed out. Morpheus curled his body over you. His lips kissed your neck, and his chiseled chest pressed into your back. The coolness mixed well with your perspiration.

Hot and cold.

Dead and alive.

“Are you ready,” he purred in your ear.

You nodded, biting your lip. His hips rocked slowly. His cock dragged out through your walls before pushing back in.

Soft, teasing thrusts. One to make you desperate.

“Morpheus,” you whimpered.

His cock continued the painstakingly slow pace, loving the sensation of your walls clamping down around him and pulling him back in. You didn’t need to say anything, your body screamed for more.

“You’re taking me so well,” he hummed.

You swore you could cry. “Fuck, faster please.”

He smirked. “Are you sure?”

“Yes! Please.”

His hips snapped, setting a brutal new pace. All the air caught in your throat. Your eyes widened then nearly rolled back. Your head fell onto the counter. For now, all you could hear was the slapping of skin. Turning your head, you peered over and locked onto the nearby window. With the dark backdrop and the light inside, it acted like a mirror. You could watch your body being pummeled. You watched as your ass jiggled and contorted, you watched as your breasts bounced with every thrust, you watched as the obvious handprints dug into your malleable skin and hips daring to leave permanent marks.

Your lust rattled mind realized something: the curtains were opened. Apartments across the way could watch you, watch as nothing absolutely ruined.

Would someone think you were fucking yourself? Would they be confused? Would they be turned on? If Morpheus shifted his body, could you watch as his invisible cock filled you, stretching you?

You shivered at your thoughts.

Morpheus’s chuckle broke you out of your thoughts. He saw you eyeing the window. He saw what you saw. “Oh? Do you like to watch?” He paused, considering something else. “Or would you like someone else to watch?”

Words lodged in your throat.

“I can feel you clenching around me, my love,” he teased. You buried your face in your forearms, embarrassed how much this all truly turned you on. “Look. Now do you like to watch me?”

You peered out of the corner of your eye. After his question, his body became corporeal. He was a well built man, toned and lean. His back and arm muscles rippled with every thrust. His pale skin seemed to glow brighter in death. His hair was black as Death’s robes, and cropped short. His eyes shone like pale blue moons. Here he was, Morpheus, your ghost lover in all of his glory. A man whose face belonged in renaissance paintings, spoken as a king or a lord. A man from an era of courtship and marriage, of hidden letters passed between lovers, of romance and roses. And yet here he was, his long heavy cock pounding in and out.

He fucked you like a toy, his toy.

You watched, utterly memorized.

“Or only like this?” His body disappeared again, leaving only the sounds of his destruction upon your body.

You whimpered.

“Answer me, sweet one,” his voice whispered next to your ear.

“B-both,” you stuttered out. You loved watching him, and you loved knowing you were simply at his mercy.

Your ghost, your monster.

“Can - can I see you?” You asked under your breath. You desperately wanted to see him, to see his body and face. Tonight, you needed him, all of him.

“Of course.”

His body reformed. You sighed happily. His head was tipped forward. His lips parted, panting. You swore with each puff, a cold chill spread over your back. His hair - usually slicked back - flopped in his face, begging to be played with. Your eyes fell to his cock, coated in your combined juices.

Pleasure crackled down your spine.

Yet, Morpheus was not satisfied. He moved you a few inches away from the counter. He bent you down more, hitting a new angle. Stars exploded behind your eyes. His blunt tip kissed your cervix over and over. You moaned loudly without a care.

“There,” he mused. “Right there. So beautiful, so sweet.”

Head hanging, you grabbed the edge of the counter, trying to hold on and keep yourself up. But, your thigh and knees shook, threatening to crumble. The stretch was intoxicating. You could hardly catch your breath. Opening your eyes, you watched as Morpheus’s cock disappeared in and out of you. Your stomach even bulged at this angle. Your mouth hung open and you swore drool pooled at your lip. You closed your eyes, focusing on the rapidly approaching orgasm.

“Morpheus, please, I’m so close,” you whined, greedily matching his pace. You began to erratically hump his cock, desperate for your release.

Without saying a word, one of his hands on your hips snaked down between your legs. His fingers circled around your needy swollen clit. Your back arched. You moaned, it was all the encouragement he needed to keep going.

“Then come, my love,” he purred, pounding feverishly into you. “Let me so you unravel, let me hear you sing, let me see you come all over my cock. I want you to make a mess on me, my love.”

You writhed, feeling the pressure build and build ready to snap.

“Watch me fill you, my love.” His fingers moved faster drawing more aching circles.

You were almost there.

“I told you to watch.” He lightly smacked your clit. You gasped, your eyes snapped open. Your eyes connected back to how his cock pumped into your cunt. “Perfect.”

He could tell you were watching by the way your walls tightened around him. It had seemed he had found an unspoken kink of yours.

“Now, be good for me, and come on me.”

Seeing his thick cock fuck you, feeling his blunt tip hitting the deepest parts of you, and his sweet words all combined tougher and pushed you over the edge. You cried out his name, coming all over his cock. Your knees nearly gave out. Luckily, Morpheus held you up. He worked you through your orgasm leaving you floating in utter bliss. After a few more pumps, he buried himself to the hilt, moaning.

The aftermath and heavy panting filled the air. Ever so slowly, Morpheus removed himself. You suddenly felt so empty.

“Let me help you.” Morpheus whispered tenderly. “I’ll prepare a bath for you.”

“Please,” you mumbled, now exhausted.

He laughed then kissed your back. “Of course, my love.”

[rainystressed247]

Ghost!Dream is the victor this round so here is some of the lore I have loosely planned before I went on my trip:

Before death, Dream was a prisoner convicted of petty crimes, but due to corruption, he was sentenced to death as a scapegoat after being accused of more serious crime.

The red cross is the mark of the prisoner that will be executed the next day but before he can be executed, the prison burned down hence the burnt edge of his cloak.

Ghost Dream has no recollection of his 'crime', only the fact that he was doomed to haunt the remnant of the prison.

Together within the prison walls are spirits, demons and monsters roaming due to the amount of grief and pain inflicted upon the place.

Ghost Dream is actually a very laid back/child like spirit. He gets spooked easily but will approach when he sees someone in need.

For some reason the other occupants of the prison doesn't bother Ghost Dream.

Fast forward a bit, Techno is a part of the holy knight squad that has been tasked to cleanse the place since there has been reports of increasing attacks by the evil spirits.

As Techno traverse through the prison and getting rid of the spirits etc, it becomes clear that the root of it all somehow has connection with the elusive ghost wandering around the hall.

[confessedlyfannish]

DP x DC Writing Prompt #8

The day Bruce Wayne knocks on her apartment door Sam knows it's going to be a doozy.

"Mr. Wayne, I really do hope no one saw you," she says, ushering him in. "And for the record, a text ahead of time would be appreciated."

"I parked the car a few streets away," Bruce says, sticking a finger in his heel to peel his polished leather shoes off. Sam raises an eyebrow. "It's a sedan, not a Lamborghini."

"You own a sedan?"

"Taught Dick to drive in it...after he crashed the Lamborghini."

Sam snorts despite herself. The charm Bruce Wayne exhibits would usually rub her the wrong way, too reminiscent of wealthy men that feel comfortable placing a hand on the small of your back at a crowded gala, but Bruce is honest enough about his playacting that she has come to find its insincerity comforting. She's actually sought him out more than once, leading to several annoying headlines that can't seem to decide if she's aiming to date him or one of his eligible sons. None of whom are eligible by the way, as they are a) taken, b) legally dead, c) practically a minor, and d) an actual minor.

Sam's generational wealth is peanuts compared to Wayne Industries, so naturally her parents have been thrilled and rooting for option c.

"I also didn't want Danny to see I'd texted you. Or force you to lie to him."

Sam doesn't quite tense, but it's a near thing. She does slide to the other side of her kitchen island, under the context of finishing prepping her feta fried eggs, laid on a bed of smashed avocado and warm tortilla. She pulls a bottle of crunchy garlic oil out of the fridge and drizzles hot red crisps across the runny yolk. She takes a bite, chewing thoughtfully, not so much as offering him a glass of water.

"You realize, Mr. Wayne, I have no intention of lying to Danny now?"

Bruce sits at the stool on the opposite side of the island. "I understand. And if you want to ask Danny to return home before we continue, I'd understand that as well. I didn't mean to discomfit you--"

"Please do not lie to me now, Mr. Wayne," Sam says, rolling her eyes. "By your own admission you showed up at noon without warning knowing my superhero boyfriend wouldn't be present. If I am discomfited, all the more likely you get your information, right?" Golden yolk runs down her fingers, and she sacrifices it to the napkin rather than lick up her arm in front of her boss, with no small amount of resentment. The yolk is the best part.

"Get to it then," she demands.

Bruce straightens in his stool, chin raising and firming in a jawline she most often sees under a cowl. His eyes attempt to pin her in place, but Sam has stared the Master of Time in the face and demand he reschedule so she is built. different. She takes another bite of egg taco.

"I was not aiming for you to feel threatened, and moreover, I doubt you could be."

Except a smart person should always feel threatened by a threat, no matter their capability of handling one. It keeps them alive.

"Can you tell me how I'm not like all the other girls after lunch? You'll spoil my appetite."

Bruce clears his throat. "I'll get to the point--"

"Thank you."

"--Danny has been exhibiting paranormal behaviors beyond his baseline. We welcome all biologies; human, alien, and paranormal alike, but I have observed actions unlike what he had previously established as his, for lack of a better word, 'normal'

"I want to make sure he is not experiencing any unwelcome outside influence. Or, if this is merely a facet of his evolution, I'd like to know if this is something we or his family should be monitoring."

Sam has been an eco-consultant with Wayne Industries and unofficially, the Batfamily, for half a year now and this is the most she's ever heard the man speak in one sitting.

"Wow," she says. "How long have you been rehearsing that one?"

"A while." Bruce grunts, voice finally taking that final drop into Batman's gravelly rasp. "I see you're not surprised by any of this."

"No, not really," Sam says. She pours him a tall glass of lemon water from the pitcher, freshly sliced that morning, and he takes a polite sip.

"So what can you tell me?"

"Probably a lot. And Danny would probably prefer that I do, knowing him, the big baby," Sam sighs. "Listen Mr. Wayne, I can appreciate that you came here from a place of caution rather than intrusion. And if Danny was undergoing something negative or from an 'unwelcome outside influence' that would be the right call, and I, albeit begrudgingly, encourage you to do so in the future."

"But he's not."

"He's not," Sam confirms. "And in fact, I think he could really use someone to talk to about it. Outside of his family."

"I see..." Bruce says, shifting.

"If you want to tag team this one with one of the higher EQ players, such as Superman, I give you permission." Sam does not think she's imagining that slight sag of relief.

"Thank you," Bruce says, sliding off the stool. "I don't suppose you have material we could consult...?"

"Actually yes, I happen to have a pamphlet right here. 'So your ghostly body is changing, and how.'"

"You're being more sarcastic than usual."

"You interrupted my lunch, Mr. Wayne."

[thirsty-koi]

Nightmare

Ghost comforting 🐶Soap from a nightmare regarding his past.

[mblue-art]

late halloweeen dooodleee

[puppetmaster13u]

DP X DC X Subnautica

Where the Justice League (mostly focusing on the Superfam or Batfam or Flashfam) are large leviathan-esque creatures living on Planet 4546B. Maybe they can change forms due to Precursor experimentation, maybe not. Those with young hang out around the shallows more than the others, what with most of them being large super or specialized predators.

Enter Danny Fenton, interning on the Aurora when the ship is shot down by the Quarantine Enforcement Platform. Oh sure he probably would have tried to stop the destruction and help, but his ghost powers are a bit on the fritz and a well-meaning worker pushes him into one of the last life pods seeing as he's a child.

Now the leviathans may not know what a ship is exactly, but they can definitely understand that in most cases things technology = precursors. As far as they understand, a metal deathtrap not unlike the old labs or caches fell alongside several metallic eggs, with the emerging hatchlings misshapen and not living long.

But then there's the egg that landed in the shallows, which at first they thought was empty. But a hatchling- much smaller than the previous ones- emerges, a day later than the rest, but they're alive even if their swimming is all wobbly! It's so tiny, and obviously hatched too early with the strange split tail and how it keeps swimming to the surface for air, and they have to protect it! Now if only the little hatchling would answer their calls and not dart into hiding spots whenever they approach...

Honestly this is up to the writer lol, but I like to think that Danny's ghost form, when he finally manages to achieve it again, goes a little naga-esque. Almost like a sea snake instead of just a whispy ghost tail, which while better for swimming doesn't help his freak out over most ghost powers still not working.

Danny is just trying to survive man, maybe find other survivors, turn off this big alien gun, stop creating frost crystals when he sneezes, the usual. He doesn't need giant humanoid-esque leviathan-sized sea creatures poking around!