#his ghost form is very powerful

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 249

Danny tilts his head. The masked figure across the roof tilts their head back, a gold similar to Tucker’s eyes shimmering, though he knew it wasn’t him. He lets out a curious chirp, inaudible to the living, and the masked figure stills, as silent as a corpse for several moments before letting out two clicks. 

A greeting in turn. 

Danny smiles, letting green bleed into his eyes and scurrying over with a croon from his core. I’m here, I’m here, their own core clatters like metal against bone as his responds with the drone of a blackhole. I see you, I see you. I’m HereHereHere. 

Yet another twitters in turn, clicking echoing across the city from shadow to shadow until it’s as though the city itself has a heartbeat. Click-click. Click-click. Click-click. I’m here, I’m here, not alone, I’m Here. 

[nelkcats]

Be Not Afraid

Danny's forms were pretty stable in the Infinite Realms, and well, his own dimension. The problem was when he had to run certain errands elsewhere (Clockwork's fault) and the universes didn't know where to put him.

Despite having two defined forms in his original dimension. The other dimensions seemed to decide that Danny didn't need that, and his humanity had to go, or something. The halfa couldn't understand it.

So of course, he ended up looking very amorphous and strange when he traveled to other dimensions. Sometimes with multiple eyes, at other times his body was made of pieces of ice, there were times when he was just a toxic green eye that glowed and blinded whoever saw it. The only thing that remained constant was that he didn't look human. Which made most of his tasks difficult. People feared the unknown after all.

When he arrived in the DC universe he didn't expect a welcoming committee. He even told them "Be not afraid" the moment he landed on a crowded street, but apparently that was counterproductive, since they classified him as some kind of avenging angel.

With a sigh, Danny kept exploring and the strangest things happened to him: Two glowing rings chased him everywhere (One was black and the other was white, but he had a feeling that taking them wouldn't be the smartest move, the ring and the crown were very jealous since he was crowned after all)

And a British magician... flirted with him? Danny was pretty sure the hellbazer was seeing him as eyes and ice floating but that didn't seem to stop him from trying. The halfa didn't know if he was flattered or worried.

Anyway, he couldn't find Dr. Fate, nor "Justice League Dark", whatever it was. But the wizard, Constantine, was willing to take him on a date. The rings continued to follow him while some people with green rings looked in the background (they looked strangely scared) and a new religion had been created for "The Great One" which reminded him of Frostbite.

Traveling was hard.

[kerryweaverlesbian]

Jack au where he's a psychic who can commune with ghosts. Almost every major character from Supernatural is a ghost. Including Sam Dean and Cas. This would serve these major tennants of his relationships:

Isolated. The people Jack spends the majority of his time with are NOT part of the normal world. Sam, Dean, Cas and Mary live in a bunker and don't know how to be people. The AU hunters are literally from another world. His mom is dead. Kaia is split between realms. The only Real people he knows well are his young adult nerd friends and arguably Harper. You don't want 1/4 of your tie to reality to be a witch who wants to be Cheryl Blossom from Riverdale as her life's aspiration. That's no way to live!

Intangible. Because of Jack's immense power, he is, in a sense, untouchable. He is stopped when people hug him or push him or shoot him because he chooses to stop. There is a veil between him and them. There is also a scarcity of common ground. There is nothing else out there like him. Dean might stomp and bark and howl but, ultimately, what can he do to Jack physically? Nothing. The only power the ghosts have is emotional and social. Imagine being outcasted by the ghosts who can only see you and each other. Ouch!

Fleeting. Everyone he cares for is doomed to die. This happens even before he's born with Cas and Kelly and Mary, but also throughout his life. He both has long strings of tragedy in short periods AND he's immortal and worries about it. Loss and loniness are inevitable for him on a massive scale. Cas might claim that he'll be there with him but he dies like twice a year at least. Picture ghost!Cas midway through a reassuring speech that he's always going to be there with him fading out into the veil mid-sentence.

Guilt-ridden. Life is wasted on the living, isn't it? Youth is wasted on the young. He's got dozens of ghosts needing him to live in the way they want him to so they can feel alive again, and he's not capable of being that (literal) lifeline. He needs to learn how to say no and stick to it. He needs to learn how to live with the fact that he has to disappoint people to live well sometimes. He has to engage with the living, because the dead are going to kill him if he hangs on to them too long.

So if someone could write this devestating yet beautiful 25k+ fic for me that'd be really swell.

[akkivee]

if it was a slice of life kinda story with the fcked up elements and brief action scenes included, ichikuu would probably be like ‘the misadventures with a punk monk ~i think my best friend is in love with me??~’ lol

[stunfiskz]

actually i think the deltarune theory that makes me most upset is when someone tries to argue that anyone aside from mettaton is the lightner that swatch helped create the neo body

[sanguinesmi1e]

Danny's human form ages like normal, but his default form as Phantom is still the 14y/o he was at his time of death. Luckily he can change that with concentration, since his ghost form is malleable. But he has to a) have the time to enact the change and b) consciously maintain his form. His superhero colleagues don't know he's half alive, so he's typically got his adult ghost form firmly in place before they meet. While fighting a powerful enemy, Phantom's concentration slips and he reverts to child form. Doesn't matter, it's just aesthetics and the enemy is what's important. He’s equally strong in his 14 y/o form. Except, his colleagues are very concerned to “discover” that their teammate is a child who has been lying about his age all this time. So now Danny has to figure out how to convince them that he's just looked 14 for over a decade now, or bite the bullet and show them all his secret identity. Preferably before they demote him to a team of teen heroes, or he gets forcibly adopted.

[radiance1]

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

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

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

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

A complete 180.

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

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

So the Justice League had to act fast.

---

Danny was fucked.

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

Which is kinda why he's fucked.

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

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

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

Yea.

Danny was fucked.

And he was very, very scared.

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

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

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

So Danny was alone.

No one would be coming to help him.

So what did he do?

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

Danny wasn't aiming at them.

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

Danny wailed.

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

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

They didn't know what was happening.

Danny just hoped it worked.

---

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

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

They had to act quickly.

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

It cracked.

And continued to crack.

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

The Infinite Realms.

They believed Phantom was trying to retreat.

They were wrong.

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

Then.

Something came out of the portal.

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

Then.

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

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

The Ghost King.

[novelistwriter]

The Ancient Warrior

DP x DC Prompt

Danny is either bored of King work or is forced on a vacation from his Ghost King duties in the DC Universe. But because of Clockwork, Danny is sent the very distant past of the world, and because of his immortal body, something he got when he accepted the Crown of Flames and the Ring of Rage when he was 19, he doesn't age at all or die from being hot with a fatal blow.

Clockwork was the one to tell him to be a warrior where the Halfa found himself, so he donned a modified version of his Kingly Armor that covers his entire body and makes his voice deeper and more menacing and had done so. The modified armor he has allows him to access weaker versions of the Ancients powers.

Danny had unknowingly started a new religion in the DC Universe, the Warriors Religion. It's a religion about fighting, but even Danny himself has told those part of it, when he eventually found out about the religion, that it's not always about fighting physically, it can be for any battle one takes.

Danny has many fighting styles, as he is the Ghost King and needs to defend himself when attacked, which are made up of many long dead fighting styles from many Ghosts in the Infinite Realms, amd because Pandora was one of his mentors, he had Amazonian training as well.

As the years go by, with it getting closer to modern times in the DC Universe, Danny has had many students and adversaries. Ra's Al Ghul and his daughters Talia and Nyssa were some of his students, Diana of Themyscira was an adversary, but not one to battle him to death like many others before her. And then he got another student, Bruce Wayne. While training Bruce, the Al Ghuls would challenge him in battles, but not to the death, as they seen what he did to those killed, as whenever he killed someone, the intense emotions, the ectoplasm from him, and a violent death at his hands causes all his opponents to become Ghosts, but before they could fully form, he gently grabs there forming core in one hand, and teleports them to the Infinite Realms after saying something to the cores. Because those he kills and sends to the Infinite Realms can not be revived by the Lazarus Pits

"May you find peace in the afterlife" for those that had no ill will

"May you find redemption in the afterlife" for bad guys he kills

When Danny is not his 'Warrior' persona, he's an average Gothamite with an average job and trying to survive till the next day in the chaotic city he calls home.

[mactavishsgfandwife]

Simon "Ghost" Riley’s Breeding Kink 💘

just smut, breeding kink, praise, mdni

Simon had never brought up wanting kids, and you’d sort of assumed that he didn’t want them - with a background like his, and the hardened man that he is (when he’s not feeling poorly, and trying to be close to you 24/7) it would be totally understandable if he didn’t want to bring a whole new human into the world. Maybe the trauma just ruled that out. Even he had never really, consciously wanted children.

That was until you were pinned below him, with your pretty legs hoisted up to your chest and your hands wrapped around his body, digging into his back, dwarfed by the size of him. Simon likes to fuck you deep - he can go fast or slow, he doesn’t mind, but he needs to make sure that cute little cunt is taking all of him. He’d never wanted children, but the sight of you on his dick, little gasps slipping from those lips… you’d look so pretty carrying his babies.

"I want t’get you pregnant," he grunts, a tattooed arm moving up to the side of your head to support him as he fucks into you. You’ve been with him before, but you never get used to the sheer power of him, your lips forming a little O as you struggle to form your words.

"Wh- but I- Si-" you whine. You only wish he’d slow down to let you speak, but your flushed mumbling just encourages him, his fat tip making a bulge in your stomach.

"Can’t talk, love? Is my pretty girl struggling..?" A little, nasty glint in his eyes tells you just how much he’s enjoying seeing you struggle like this.

"Will you le’me give you a baby, darlin’?" he groans, gently brushing your hair out of your face. Faint words try to escape your lips but it’s futile, and your boyfriend grins as he watches you splutter and nod for him.

His strokes only become faster and deeper, causing your toes to curl when he touches parts so deep inside of you that you didn’t think possible. He let out little grunts of appreciation as your walls gripped him tight.

"Fuck…" he groaned, his brow furrowing, "y’feel so good… fuck…"

This man makes sure to take his time (and savour the view) and when he finally shoots his cum inside of you, he stays in there for a little while - just to make sure nothing can escape and undo all his hard work. If it did, it wouldn’t matter, he’d just fuck it right back into you.

"Such a good girl… takin’ my kids so well…" he whispers gruffly into your ear, his large hands stroking your back gently as you catch your breath.

"You’ll look so pretty with my babies, darlin’," he kisses your forehead softly.

i’m very new to writing smut so i hope this was ok 😋 love you lots

[silverspectre51]

Summoning the Boy King

Darkseid was rampaging through Metropolis, Superman was injured, and the Justice League was desperate. As the League hid between fallen skyscrapers, John Constantine prepared a last-ditch effort to save the Earth.

The Hellblazer drew an intricate sigil on the ground; its circular design stretching over six feet in diameter. Most of the symbols within were space-related, while the others were themed to royalty. Batman, one of the few heroes in-the-know, grunted.

"Are you sure this king ghost can help?"

Constantine sighed and pinched his nose.

"He's the High King of the Infinite Realms, Bats, an' he's bloody powerful. He'll stop Darkseid, alright, but what he does afterward is anyone's guess. Believe me, I wouldn't be doin' this if we had a choice."

Batman sighed and glanced at the smoke-filled horizon.

"Alright, get on with it, then. We're running out of time."

Constantine nodded and placed a single offering in the center of the sigil: a squishmallow of Disney's iconic blue alien, Stitch.

"I beg your finest pardon," Batman sputtered, "What on Earth is that?"

Constantine sighed again as he took his position at the edge of the sigil.

"Mate, the book was very specific. Unlike his predecessor, the new king requires a single offering of space or alien theme that is suitable for children. It's bloody strange, but beggars can't be choosers."

Batman just shook his head and looked on. Constantine raised his hands and started the summoning chant. An eerie, green glow spread across the sigil, and light fog gathered above it. Little white orbs floated up from the ground and spiraled together, forming the slowly spinning visage of a spiral galaxy.

"Incredible..." Zatanna gasped, "This summoning is on a level all its own. This king of yours is on the level of Gods."

Finally, something began to form over the small galaxy. Batman's expression quickly softened, much to the surprise of his teammates. It was mere seconds before they understood, as a black blob full of white stars formed into the shape of a boy. The blob had spiky 'bangs' if you could call them that and eerie, glowing green eyes.

The squishmallow floated into the boy's arms and he squeezed it excitedly. At the same time, he took on a far more human form, with pale skin and snowy white hair. His eyes had whites now but still glowed green. He was dressed in black and white, royal attire with green accents, a black crown floating in a green aurora, and a black ring with a green stone. A black cape flowed down his back, its underside looking as if it were cut from a clear night sky.

"Awesome offering, dude! What can I do for ya?"

The voice was a reedy tenor in the throes of puberty, and its owner was more than a little geeky. The boy's smile was infectious, or it would have been were it not for the specific circumstance.

"How old are you?" Batman asked, his tone soft, "We weren't expecting a child."

The boy waved him off like it was nothing.

"No one ever does. And, um... technically I'm fifteen. I know, I don't look it."

Constantine cut in, clearly out of patience.

"Look, this monster Darkseid is destroying our world. We need you to stop him."

The boy turned in the air and took in the destruction around him. Somehow, he seemed to understand the situation immediately.

"Okay, but I gotta get permission first. This'll take a lot of power." He paused, taking a breath, and then yelled in a strange language. "Mom!"

Constantine paled and the other heroes shrank back as a green portal tore into existence. A young woman, barely an adult herself, floated out. She had waist-length blue hair and the same glowing, green eyes. She wore a royal outfit in white and maroon, complete with a glittering, silver tiara studded with rubies.

"What's the matter, Danny? Are you okay?"

Danny nodded.

"Mhmm! These guys need me to take out this Darkseid guy, though. Can I use my full power?"

Constantine snuck a drink from his flask. He did not sign up to deal with the fucking Queen Mother of the Infinite Realms, nor had he known she existed. God, he needed a smoke...

The Queen Mother smiled softly and pressed a kiss to her son's forehead. She spoke whilst taking his new plush.

"Yes, Danny, you may. Let me hold onto this for you so it doesn't get dirty."

Danny nodded and turned away.

"Okay, thanks mom!"

The Queen Mother vanished through and with the portal she had created. Moments later, Danny shot off into the city, with the remaining able-bodied heroes hot on his trail. The young king reached Darkseid rather quickly, engaging him while the Leaguers looked on from cover. Darkseid was foolishly amused.

"A child dares oppose me? Flee, whelp."

Batman tensed as Darkseid unleashed his Omega Effect. Two red beams shot from his eyes, and yet the young king floated firm. Two eerie, green beams shot from his own eyes and, to the shock of everyone, overpowered his foe's. Darkseid shattered into many tiny pieces which then vanished into thin air.

"Man, he really wasn't smart!" Danny grinned, "Who fires a death beam at the king of the dead?"

He received no response, as the heroes were too stunned to speak. Smiling, he saluted the group before tearing open another portal.

"Oh well; villain gone, carry on. Later guys!"

Batman glared at Constantine, but the Brit had already absconded. Heaving a sigh, he resigned himself to this new reality. Darkseid was gone, but there was an incredible new power to worry about.

(Note: My only source of information is DP canon, DP fanon, and the Justice League cartoons from the early '00s. I apologize for any inaccuracies with Batman's or Constantine's behavior.)

[dollwrites]

ɪɴ ᴀʟʟ ᴍʏ ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍs, ɪ…! ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ sᴜɴᴅᴀʏ

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), fem!reader, innocent!reader & manipulative!sunday, religious setting ( confessional ), mildly dark ( suggested mind control and dub con to cnc fantasies ), dub con, humiliation, masturbation ( him! ). all characters featured are aged 18+

𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ please reblog && leave feedback. not proofread so there’s probably mistakes. thanks for reading < 3

𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗸𝘁𝗼𝗯𝗲𝗿 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟰 ∣ act seven [ masturbation ]

this was the third time.

the third time you’d found yourself sitting here.

the third time within the Cathedral of Morning Dew, perched and squirming uncomfortably in the claustrophobic cubicle, fumbling with your own fingers against the lace details of your skirt as it splayed across your knees— one of them bouncing as a testament to your anxiety and causing your voice to shake.

the third time you were confessing to Sunday.

“I’m sorry,” you feel like you should apologize, so your voice shyly fills the cool air around you. “You must have so many other important matters to tend to—“

“Nonsense.” Sunday replies with an impossibly soft and alluring purr in his gentle baritone. he’s positioned close enough to the lattice partition that he can almost whisper it to you, like a secret for only you to hear. “Penacony’s sons and daughters and their concerns are of utmost importance to me.” though it was meant as reassurance, your cheeks are aflame with embarrassment. to be coddled by a man with as much power as Sunday did make you feel like a helpless child that cries to her father when she’s upset. “Go on, my dear. Tell me what’s bothering you.”

you glance around the cubicle, eyes landing on the candle that endlessly burns beside you, yet no hot wax trickles down on to the pristine floor, nor does heat emit from the flame. even if you blew on it, you doubted that it would go out. as was the whimsicality of the Dreamscape. “It’s these… fantasies again,” you start, timidly bringing up a topic that had been the prompt for you to seek Sunday out every time. gnawing desires for things you knew you couldn’t have— desires for him. “It’s getting harder for me to tell them apart from, well, what’s really happening. The one’s I’ve had recently seem so… immersive.”

Sunday is a quiet for a moment before calmly asking, “Your condition is getting more severe? These fantasies are worrying you?”

“Well, yes.” you answer, choosing your words carefully. “They’re… very…” for all the words there were that could describe what these daydreams about Sunday were ( vulgar, lustful, depraved ), you could force none to breach your lips.

“Naughty?” Sunday offers, and you can almost hear the fond, ghost of a smile that tickles the corners of his lips. it only makes your blush hotter and more furious.

you bite down in your lower lip, rolling it between your teeth as your eyes look towards the latticework. you can only see the outline of his halo, and the glinting of the candlelight as it reflects off the piercings in his wings. squinting slightly, you attempt to make out more details. the softness of his silvery hair, always just so with not a single tendril out of place. the flawlessness of his supple, milky skin, until he turns his head, just a bit, and a glimmering, golden gaze nearly captures yours. with a soft squeak, realizing you’d been staring— wanting, you quickly avert your gaze. “Mhm…!”

you can feel his eyes on you for several more moments, but you can’t bring yourself to look up at him, deciding instead to stare at your bouncing knee.

“And what happens in these naughty, little daydreams of yours?”

a lump forms in your throat, and your mouth goes dry at the prospect of describing to Sunday the way you yearn for him. so, instead of answering right away, you shrink away from the lattice until you no longer feel him gazing at you. the cathedral is eerily silent, and you can hear the flapping of Charmony Dove wings outside. “My dear,” Sunday begins in a calm, patient tone, “you know that you must confess them to me, no matter how deplorable. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be here. Now, don’t be shy. You’re safe here with me. You know this, yes?”

you had always felt safe in the warmth of his presence, so you nod again, though you didn’t think he was looking at you anymore. still, you were naive for thinking so. a perfectly gullible, little prey.

Sunday could hear the trepidation in your voice as you began, and he was smiling to himself, imagining the flustered look on your dreamy countenance as you recall how you fantasize about him. with slow, graceful movements, he pinches the very tips of the fingers of one glove, pulling it from his hand. his fingers wiggle once they’re freed from their cloth confinement, which he drapes neatly over his knee.

“In these… dreams, I come to you late at night, when no one else is around…”

“Do you?” he asks, amused, his bare fingers drumming lightly on his thigh silently. “All alone in secret? For what purpose?” he knows why. after all, he’s the culprit behind these eerily realistic fantasies. however, he wants to hear you say it.

“To— um,” you pause, your sheepishness getting the better of you. “Offer myself to you.”

Sunday exhales through his nose to keep a low sound of satisfaction from filling the air, and alerting you to his arousal. hearing how humiliated you are, it tightens the muscles in his lower abdomen, and a tent begins to form in his trousers, which he promptly rubs against his palm. “Oh…?” he asks, almost in a teasing, condescending lilt, murmuring, “In these fantasies of yours, do I accept the offer? Do I take you for myself? Steal your innocence like a wicked thief in the night?” even though his voice remained even, his heart was thumping. his cock jabbed uncomfortably against the fabric of his clothes, and he was busying himself with the task of freeing it.

“Mhm…. Many times,” you answer, and the way your voice breaks, Sunday can practically see your lower lip quivering. it only makes him harder to think about that, and your sparkling eyes welling up with tears. once his cock springs free, standing at attention, he wraps his bare hand around it in a loose fist, and purses his lips together to suppress a grunt. veins throb beneath his skin, the tip twitching as beads of translucent nectar bubbles up from the eager slit. “In many different ways. Sometimes, you— you’re rough with me.”

the tremors that shake your voice when you say this do not go unnoticed by Sunday, who closes his eyes, bringing the fantasy he’d handpicked to implant deep within your mind to the surface of his own. it was one of his favorites, and he was quite pleased that it affected you the most. though his memory wasn’t tampered with, as yours was, and so he couldn’t conjure all the sensations or watch the fantasy like a movie in his mind, he could imagine the sight of you beneath his wandering hands. how they tore at your delicate, little dress. ripping the neckline open to expose your pert breasts for him to grope and squeeze. the way he would imagine you to whimper and wince, perhaps even squirm, and he would have to spare a hand to wrap it around your throat and hold you down— pin you in place so you couldn’t escape him. he would whisper to you that as long as you’re a sweet, obedient darling, he would be gentle. but this was, of course, a lie. the way you would peer up at his figure as he forces his way between your trembling thighs, and the way you would cry out once he finally got his cock inside you, it would be your way of begging him to break you. your mouth could lie, and whine that he was hurting you, or that you want him to be careful with you, but deep down, you wanted him to dominate you. to decimate and own you. he knew this to be fact because he had designed this little dream to convince you of it.

all whilst his imagination ran wild, his thumb runs deftly along his leaking slit, applying enough pressure to milk the swollen, red tip until his precum begins to dribble down the length of his cock, slickening the skin. his palm glides down his needy length, fingers clamping down, until the side of his fist rests against the base, before he slowly drags it back upwards towards the tip, setting a torturously slow tempo for himself. “And in this daydream of yours,” he purrs, only parting his lips wide enough to allow the words to slip through, lest a sound of ecstasy also escape, “You love it when I’m rough with you.” it wasn’t a question. it was a matter of fact. “I can hear it in the way your voice quivers, my dear, you’re ashamed of yourself. Humiliated because, albeit untouched, your little cunt gets so wet when you think about me abusing it.”

“S—Sunday…”

“Mm?” he taunts in a soft voice, as if daring you to challenge the truth. “It’s true, isn’t it? Deplorable, vulgar, and embarrassing to admit, but impossible to deny that you’ve soiled your panties many a time when you imagine how a man like me could use your body all up, and leave you in a state of ruin.”

“Y—yes…” it’s exactly what he’d expected to hear, and yet his core throbs the second he does. he leans back, just enough to brace his back against the wall of his cubicle, and adjust his feet. spreading them further apart. “I—I can't help it…”

“Poor, little thing.” Sunday croons, his slender eyebrows furrowing as he pumps himself harder and faster. “So helpless.” his fist alternates by squeezing and releasing, in the same rhythm that he imagines your virgin pussy would spasm if he was inside, and the sensations were already driving him to the brink. Sunday tilts his head back against the wall, hissing out a soft groan under his breath. part of him even wants you to hear that little sound of pleasure, to realize what he’s doing— getting off on your distress. on your desperate, wanton lust for him. however, if you do hear it, you’re too shy to draw attention to it. too bad, he thinks, if she had only caught me, i would have the innocent, little thing gagging on my cock right here in this booth…

“Wh—what should I do?” your shy question snaps him back to the moment at hand. “About these fantasies. I feel— I feel like they’re only getting more depraved and… scary…”

Sunday has to seal his tiers tightly together, lest a breathy chuckle bubble up from his throat at just how frightened by your own desires ( or, at least, the ones he’s convinced you are yours ) you are. it was cute to him. adorable how eager you are to make these naughty visages go away before they spiral out of control, when that is exactly what he was waiting for. “You needn’t worry, you know this.” he manages to force the words out, even as he stroked himself, coming undone in his own palm to the thought of deceiving you. plucking away the petals of your fragile, little mind until you were compliant and easy enough to do the same deflowering to your body. “I will always be here for you, I will always take care of you.” as he says this, he milks his cock, slowly dragging a tight fist up from the base, coaxing a slowly oozing release from the engorged head. a couple of rogue streamers splatter silently against the floor between his feet, but he pays the mess no mind. instead, he retrieves a handkerchief from his breast pocket and carefully wipes the mess on his lap— cum glazing his bare hand and the length of his shaft, down to where it began to frost his now empty balls, just before reaching the fabric of his trousers. it was unsurprisingly that he looked pristine once he was cleaned and tucked back into his pants. the soiled handkerchief is forgotten on the bench, in exchange for his glove still resting across his knee. he slips it back on before he stands, taking only a moment to smooth his vest and jacket before escaping the now stuffy air of the booth. with a soft knock on the door to your side, he waits for you to come out, too. a gentle smile on his face, and the dusky blush fading into his normal complexion by the time you emerge.

when you open the door, it creaks a bit, and you glance down at the hinges, before looking up to find Sunday incredibly close. the subtle musk from his refined cologne tickling your nostrils, but that wasn’t all. there was another smell that was quite unfamiliar, and yet seemed to spark a low bubble in your belly, but you couldn’t place it. you shrink away from him with a sheepish smile, your back pressing against the door of the booth when he takes a step closer, effectively blocking you from leaving. “Your condition is my concern,” he assures you with a gentle smile, before reaching into his pocket and retrieving a little vial of pinkish, glowing liquid. it was familiar to you— the same elixir he’d given you the last two times you’d come to him. to help with the symptoms, he says.

“Th—thank you, Sunday—“ you whisper, reaching a trembling hand for the vial in his, but what he does next surprises you. grasping your wrist with the other, he presses the vial against your palm and covers your fingers with his, wrapping them tightly, and he leans in with a softer whisper.

“Remember to place a single drop on your tongue. Every. Single. Night.” when you nod, flustered by so much physical contact, he smiles fondly, and releases your hand. “Very good girl.” he appraises, before his right hand falls to rest behind his back, yet his left lingers, creeping up to trace the shape of your mouth. piercing, golden eyes for us on your lips, his own curled into a gentle smile.

“P—please don’t tell anyone… about my condition.” you whisper, your eyes big and hopeful. you didn’t believe he would, but it was something you always needed to plead for before you left.

Sunday chuckles softly at this, and presses a gloved thumb to the seam of your lips, applying pressure until your lips open and it nearly slips inside. “You and I have many secrets together,” he murmurs in reply, before his gaze flits back up to your eyes, locking them into an intense contact that has you shifting back and forth on your feet. “But that is why we must trust one another. Unconditionally. Do you trust me, my dear? Unconditionally?”

[bet-on-me-13]

Dan is Trigon

So! The Teen Titans had been chasing down a Cult lately, and they had finally managed to track down their main bases location.

Unfortunately, they got there just a bit too late and the Summoning Ritual they had been preforming was finished. The Being they had been calling crawled up and out of the Circle drawn in Blood on the floor.

And Raven felt her heart Stop. Because that Being crawling it's way out of the Summoning Circle looked almost exactly like her Father's True Form. But also different.

Where her Father's hair was a White Flame, this one's hair looked like Freshly Fallen Snow. Instead of her Father's Blood Red Skin, this being had Icy Blue Skin. And most strikingly, In place of her Father's Piercing Red Eyes, this being had Lazarus Green Eyes.

But even with all those changes, she could still the similarities in the Bone Structure, the shape of the Jaw, and most importantly the Untold Power radiating off of them.

Before they could react, the Being turned its attention to the Cultists.

"Who Dares Summon, the Ghost King?"

"We do, Out Lord Pariah Dark! We Beseech Thee, take this unclean world and tear it down! Cleanse the World of its Filth!"

"Oh Goddammit, not again." Said the Being, "Look, Pariah hasn't been in Power for Centuries. I, am Phantom. And I don't do the whole 'Destroy all Worlds' thing, you want your own constellation? I'm your guy. Otherwise? Bite it."

"Bu-But my Lord! We summoned you to-"

"Yeah how about no." Said the unimpressed God, "Here, let me send you guys Home. I'll give you guys some riches or something as compensation, but that's it."

And with that, the God snapped its fingers and the cultists disappeared.

"Now, who are you kids?" He turned to them.

Robin stepped forward, "We are the Teen Titans, and originally we came to stop them from Summoning you. Now, I honestly don't know what to do..."

"Oh, you guys are Heroes! That's interesting, I don't come across worlds with Heroes very often." Said the Ghost King, "The last one was the one with those Revengers or whatever they called themselves. The Spider Totem was fun to talk to, and Thor is always..."

As Phantom mumbled to himself, Raven stepped up. "King Phantom, I have a Question. Why do you resemble the true form or Trigon so closely? As his Daughter, I can recognize your similarities easily, and I was curious."

The King stopped dead.

"...daughter?"

"Oh, yes. Trigon is my father, though obviously I haven't talked to him recently." She explained.

"...that asshole." He said, "How could he not tell me I had a NIECE!?"

Wait what?

[dcxdpdabbles]

Danny reincarnates as Tim's twin. The only problem is that his ghost powers act up in the womb from either the gross ecto in Gotham or an artifact that Janet handled while pregnant. Because of this only Tim is 'born', the Drake's either assume one was miscarried or never knew they were twins.

Tim meanwhile grows up with a brother his parents ignore more than him. It takes Danny an embarrassingly long time to realize what's going on and fix it but by then the twins are around 4 so can't really explain to the rest of Gotham.

When they become Robin, either Nightwing and Batman are almost convinced he's like Harvey with how many times they've found him talking and discussing plans with himself. Or with how bad their collective mental health was at that time think they're going crazy.

Only Alfred knows what's going on because he's Alfred.

Tim Drake is a strange child. Ever since he was little, he would point to empty air and interact with it as if someone was standing there and responding.

At first, his parents thought it was cute that he had an imaginary friend, and Mrs. Drake even shed a few tears when Tim proclaimed that it was the brother he had at birth. The second son of the Drakes had been growing healthy in her stomach until the very end of the first trimester when he simply vanished.

Not died, not stop growing- vanished as if he was never there.

The doctors and the Drakes had no idea what happened. Test after tests were done, but in the end, they could only conclude that the second baby was gone. It was theorized that Tim may have devoured his brother in the womb, though there had been no symptoms that Janet suffered from.

When Tim was born, Janet had nearly died with a false labor that happened only ten minutes after giving birth. The nurses and doctors had been panicking because they could not understand where the contractions originated. False labor was contractions during pregnancy, not after labor, so there was nothing the body could confuse for the urge to push.

They ruled it as a freak false labor since the only other match was Janet entering second labor. Still, as much as the nurses and doctors were ready for a monochorionic monoamniotic twin, nothing came out. Eventually, Janet passed out, and her body finally finished doing whatever it was doing.

It was no surprise that this experience ended up giving Janet postpartum depression. She tried to connect to Tim, but something in her just never clicked, and Jack was beside himself, trying to care for his child while his wife drifted further and further away.

A therapist suggested Janet return to work, which seemed to do wonders for her. She took part in multiple digs and went on many trips, but eventually, Jack felt like she was never home. Worried his wife wouldn't return to him, Jack jumped on a plane while leaving Tim in the capable hands of the housekeeper.

He said it would be a short trip just to get Janet to come back and get treatment.

Jack ended up helping at the dig site, extending his stay to his once again bright and loving wife. Seeing her back to her usual self led to him booking them another trip.

Then another, and another, and antoher. Before long, the Drakes rarely spent time in Gotham, and Tim grew bigger in their absence. Janet loved Tim, but seeing him only brought back guilt that she could not love him like other mothers could so quickly. She was so excited for their baby and had loved him with her whole heart while he was inside of her, but now, seeing those big blue eyes blink up at her, all Janet wanted to do was run.

She drowned in guilt, and sometimes, it felt that she was only breathing because Jack was there for her. He dragged her back to the surface only long enough to take a breath and be dragged under again.

She missed his first steps, his first words, and his first laugh. That's why hearing him call out to Danny was so jarring. She had stopped outside his room, carrying gifts in the form of toys, hoping they would make up for the fact that she had only seen him a handful of times for a solid year.

He was playing with blogs, babbling to "Danny." She had picked out the name of her other son when she found out she was having twins. The only person Tim could have heard that name from was the housekeeper.

Janet fired her after wiping her tears. She would hire a replacement that wouldn't mock her two-year-old son. She let Tim keep his imaginary friend, figuring he would outgrow it.

Tim didn't.

Over the years, Tim became increasingly convinced Danny was with him. He even started turning in classwork under the name Danny, and when a teacher would call him, he would respond with "I don't know. Tim is better at this than me."

Sometimes, when he acted out, Tim would be the one responsible. Tim was the one who got bored quickly in class, needed to be challenged more, and preferred to follow whatever hair-brain idea he had. Photography, skateboarding, and actual crime shows were what made Tim happy.

Then, he became Danny when he showed effort in school but struggled to keep his solid, slightly above-average results. This side of her son preferred astronomy and baking and seemed confused by their wealth. Almost as if he was new money instead of the old wealth the Drakes had. Janet also heard that Danny seemed to stick his nose in whenever a bully targeted a classmate, confronting them with a bravo she could not associate with Tim.

Tim was more like her. They dealt with their opponents through clever planning instead of confirmation, which Jack preferred. He talked to himself a lot, too. The Drakes weren't even in Gotham, but their family's whispers echoed through the gala halls anyway. As young Tim walked by, there were rumors and speculations.

The elites would gossip as Tim continued arguing that the decor was worth the money and that they couldn't steal it, no matter how much food it could buy people in their charities.

He whispers, yelling at the air as Janet watches from across the hall, her stomach turning with love and repulse.

Years after his birth, she could not bring herself to stand before him for too long. Jack followed because he worried she do something to herself if he didn't.

She could not deny it now that Tim was nine. Janet realized, after a while of reading reports involving her son, that he likely suffered from a split personality disorder. Seeing it in person was entirely different.

They'll likely have to have him instituted, and the thought almost has her throwing up. She wonders if she would have caught on faster had she been a better mother and been around.

She steels herself, crossing the room to speak to her son. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees that Jack has noticed and quickly tries to make an excuse to stop her. Fortunately, depending on who you asked, the men looking for an investor don't let their husbands go that easily, so she is clear.

"No, I won't ask him for an autograph!" Tim hisses, looking at the wall to his right as if someone were leaning against it with him. Janet's resolves wabble a little at Tim's pout. There is a short pause before Tim goes red. "I can't do that! Mr.Wayne is really protective of Richard."

Dread pools into her stomach as Tim's features shift, and a grin with a mad twist settles on his lips. "I already have all the pictures I want about him. My favorite is the one I took last night."

This can't wait. Janet loves her son; she does not care what anyone says that she doesn't, but she can't allow him to harm others. Stalking will eventually lead to harm; she knows it. Those are the early signs.

She opens her mouth, only for Tim to turn to her with a coldness she hadn't noticed he always regarded her with.

She had never seen joy on his face, so she had never had a chance to compare how he looked at her and Jack to how he looked at others. How he looked at Danny.

Janet feels everything in her freeze, and a tremble grows in her arms and hands. Trying to hide it, she drowns the glass of wine in her hand in one gulp but instantly regrets it.

The world become slightly hazy that alcoholic cause, and maybe it's been a long time since she last drank. She could have sworn she was seeing double for a moment, and an exact copy of her child was leaning on the wall behind Tim.

But that wouldn't make sense. Tim's eyes weren't green.

"Son." Jack's warm presence is behind her, placing a comforting hand on her back, and she can't bring herself to speak as her husband commands. He likely feels her trembles. "It's time to leave."

The second image of Tim flickers out of sight, and Janet walks out of the Wayne Gala, wondering if her son inherited his madness from her. Neither adult notices the soft thump of the backseat, nor do they pay much attention to Tim carefully buckling the air or how the blanket he keeps back there spreads itself across Tim's lap.

Janet falls into old habits, and instead of being up to what she realized that night, she convinces Jack to go to Guatemala. They are gone first thing the following day.

Tim watches them leave from the top of the grand stairway, his eyes glowing green in heavy judgment and ice that Janet would have felt in the coldest winter. Jack is chatting nonsense to fill the silence and keep Janet grounded, but when she peeks over her shoulder to the Manor, she spots Tim in the window of his room, watching them leave with a frown.

His green eyes are gone, and she feels a chill race down her spine. There is no way he could have run up the stairs, gone down four different hallways, and gotten to the window before they could get to the waiting car.

"Goodbye, Tim. Keep the house safe!" Jack says as he opens the car door for Janet, but he's talking in the doorway. Because that's where the grand stairway is. She hears her son respond but can't tell what he is saying.

She can only gaze upwards to where Tim waves at her while clutching the curtain. His mouth doesn't move. He isn't the one speaking to Jack.

Janet sits in the leather of the car, Jack beside her, holding her hand tenderly, and she rethinks about having Tim instituted. She should hire an exorcist instead.

When they get back, of course. The car pulls away from the driveway, and Janet does her best not to look back even as the door slams shut, as if the sound was meant to tell her never to return. She closes her eyes, holds her breath, and only lets it go when they are far away from Drake Manor and her son.

Maybe one day she can be a good mother.

[nightingale-prompts]

Batboy Missing

First | Previous | Next

Danny despite everything still liked acting on his own. He needed some space.

Bludhaven was his stomping ground now but it wouldn't be so bad to secretly fly into Gotham. Definitely not to see the other robins or anything. Especially not to see Red Robin.

They may have met briefly some time ago on a rooftop.

Dick didn't even tell him that Red Robin was his age and was cute. Dick already didn't like it when Danny said he thought Tim was attractive. Honestly, he had no room to talk he dated Barbara. It wouldn't be weird if he didn't overthink it.

Still, Red Robin was definitely his type. Then again if he had a dine for every red vigilante he had a crush on he would have 2 dime and well you know the rest.

Danny found it hard not to think about their first meeting.

"Wow, you are much more stunning up close."

The voice came from none other than Red Robin who almost snuck up on Danny who had let him approach.

Danny wondered what exactly the teen was seeing when he looked at Danny.

Red Robin eyed Danny with an intense probing curiosity. Not like how a scientist looks at a butterfly pinned to a board but like a photographer eyes a wild animal. Respect, awe, and excitement.

"You aren't so bad yourself," Danny responded keeping a healthy distance between them.

"Batboy right? I'm Red Robin. Call me Red." He held put his hand to shake.

"Batboy. Call me...uh...Batboy." Danny said awkwardly.

Red Robin seemed to get closer and closer when Danny wasn't looking directly at him.

It was throwing Danny off because the moment had gotten too close his wings reflexively unwrapped from around his shoulders.

"I was right, fruitbat wings. But they connect to your back, not your arms. Like having two sets of arms." Red Robin mumbled as he slid a gloved hand down one wing.

"He-Hey! You shouldn't touch a bat's wings like that." Danny shivered, his face was on fire.

"Oh, are your wings sensitive?"Red Robin teased pulling back and holding up his hands in feigned innocence. "Or is it that it's too personal? Should I buy you dinner first?"

Danny wanted to be upset but he felt the opposite. Maybe because it felt like the teen was playing with him.

Their meet-cute was ended quickly unfortunately since an emergency came up on Robin's end.

That's not why Danny is visiting Gotham. He could just be trying to see the other Robin or Batgirl. Batgirl is cool.

Danny stealthed his way through Gotham towards Crime Alley when a dark shadow was spotted nearby. Danny immediately dropped into an alleyway assuming it was Batman and trying to avoid him.

The young bat knew it was unwise to spread his wings here. They were too liable to get caught in the narrows. He shifted his wings away but he needed something else to help him. Sure he still had his ghost powers, but here in Gotham using them too much risked getting the eyes of the spirits here. Not to mention the Observers. Danny knew to limit his abilities and not overstep boundaries. Danny could only rely on shifting since it was considered a secondary ability.

Danny tried to remember any anatomy he had memorized that could help him. Shifting is very complicated and seeing something isn't always enough, he needed to know the function the further removed it was from his human form.

As Danny rethought his next move someone had sensed him. Red Hood was prowling the area.

Red Hood wasn't completely unaware of Batboy. He knew little of what was going on in Bludhaven but social media was an explosion of posts about Batboy the new sidekick to Nightwing. But the only thing he really knew about the teen was that he had giant bat wings.

The kid that is currently wandering around the alley does not have batwings.

It was just a kid hiding behind a dumbster and about to get mugged.

He was going to save the kid but it wasn't necessary as he watched the kid kick the would-be robber in the face.

When Hood finally got close enough to talk to the kid as he stood over the fallen man he saw a set of Lazarus green eyes shine in the dark like a cat.

Creepy.

A sinking sense of dread seemed to shroud him before passing through him like a cold breeze.

The green-eyed kid stared into his soul as he crept closer. A pull in his chest towards him bubbled inside like a cauldron of oil.

The white-haired teen looked at him with a deep weary sorrow. Without warning Jason felt arms wrap around his shoulders as the teen hugged him. Deep inside of Jason, he felt something settle.

"Im so sorry." The boy said "Let me help."

Without another word the teen pushed his hand into Jason's chest. Just through his body without resistance.

"What the hell are you-" Jason didn't finish as a foul brackish fluid came out of his mouth.

"This filth is not your own. It is polluting you." He said pulling his hand out. "Catch your breath. Slowly. In and out."

Jason felt like a heavy weight was lifted off his chest. Like this was his first breath of air since his revival.

In the teen's hand was a blob of black tar that he rolled into a ball before promptly popping it into his mouth.

"Ew." Jason said.

"Don't judge me. It tastes disgusting but if it isn't consumed it'll infect someone else." He said.

"What are you?"

"....a ghost." The teen paused before responding as if not knowing what to call himself.

"A ghost? As in undead?" Jason knew this had to be some kind of serial joke. It had to be.

"I don't make the rules. I'm a ghost. And you are a revenant. You are just a more alive version of me. Closer to life than death." The teen said.

"Who are you then?" Jason asked this time calmer as he steadied his nerves.

"Call me Phantom for now. I'm just trying to hide from Batman. I don't want him trying anything." Phantom said going back to looking for Batman.

Jason still had questions for Phantom.

"Alright follow me then. The Bat isnt welcome around here and I have a safe house you can wait out in." Jason sighed turning to leave.

The teen seemed to get that Jason wasn't going to hurt him and followed.

*Dick back in Bludhaven*

"Where is my baby?!"

[clockwayswrites]

Birds and wings and hope Part 13

Masterpost

Danny had thought hat if he finished with Frostbite early that he would spend a few days in the zone to catch up with some of the other ghosts. He hadn’t wanted to with the wings. It wasn’t that Danny was ashamed of the wings, not from the fact of having different features, but Frostbite had seemed certain that Danny was in a heavily mutable state right then. The more people that knew Phantom with wings, the more likely they were to stick as they cemented in consciousness and identity.

Or something like that.

Danny had a whole stack of reading tucked away in his chest to go through later.

Just wanting time alone, Danny had given himself somewhere between an hour and a day (time was hard to tell in the zone) to sulk among the sparks and dust that were long dead stars before forced himself to get a grip and go home. He was an adult for, well, him sake he guessed. He could deal with this.

The reading set on the left side of the coffee table with a fresh notebook next to it. It wouldn’t do to mix up this work with his actual work, so Danny was sure to pick out one with a green cover from the stash that he kept on hand of his favorite dot patterned paper notebooks. He’d draw a blob ghost or something on it later. A few color pens and a highlighter joined the little pile, set in a battered and chipped Amity Park tourist trap mug.

Sam had gotten it for Danny as a present due to the so hideous it was funny caricature of Phantom on it.

On the right side of the coffee table went a box of protein bars, electrolyte drinks, suck’em candies, and Danny’s well stocked pill container. He moved the coffee table a little closer to the couch, turned the TV on to a playlist of Mythbuster episodes, and made sure he had his favorite blanket in hand before he transformed back.

And fuck that hurt. Pain shot up Danny’s back, radiating up through his shoulders, and shooting along his Lichtenberg scars so intensely that they burned. Danny collapsed inelegantly onto the couch with a defeated whimper.

Maybe it was the wings? Did having a different set of limbs as a ghost cause transfered muscle aches to his human form? He didn’t even have muscles as a ghost, not really, but the mind was a very powerful thing and not even Frostbite was entirely sure of how exactly the two parts of a halfa effected each other.

After the worst of the pain had dulled slightly, Danny managed to toss back his medication (missing doses while Phantom never did him any good) and pulled the candies close enough that he could use them as a distraction for his senses. Slowly the muscle relaxant worked its magic and Danny became a boneless lump. The episodes of Mythbusters idly distracted him as he just let his thoughts drift over what Frostbite had said.

Frostbite was sure that there had to be a reason— or several— that Danny’s form had shifted into a bird and after retained the wings still. Frostbite felt the first step to this all, if Danny was determined to either control or to get an understanding of where this all was going, was to understand the subconscious or symbolic particulars of the change.

The why Frostbite felt was clear: Danny had been without a haunt for too long now. Yes, he accepted, the pollen may have certain accelerated matters (hence the full bird then and only the wings now), but Frostbite was admit that the change wouldn’t have been occurring at this stage if Phantom had still been the protector of Amity Park.

Phantom had a purpose in Amity Park. Phantom was a protector and guardian. That guardianship extended to a very limited range. Now that Amity Park was many, many years behind him and Danny was living in a place already full of its own protectors, the Phantom part of Danny was left adrift which allowed for this new stage of ghosthood.

Why couldn’t his ghost half just be happy with a nice long nap?

“Fuck you, Phantom,” Danny grumbled as he watched a car be vaporized upon impact on the screen. Idly Danny wondered if he could get an object up to that speed if he flew fast enough.

Several hours and several protein bars later, Danny was managing to sit up enough to start going through some of the reading Frostbite had sent and make notes. Two more episodes and delivered Indian food later, Danny scrawled on the top of a fresh page ‘The Subconscious & Symbolic Particulars of Wings’.

Why on earth and beyond did he have wings?

‘Flying’, Danny wrote first and then as many reasons he could think of why he loved flying from the freedom of it to space to the way that it felt to move through a cloud. ‘Freedom’ branched off into movement and escape and getting to become his own person without the weight of Amity. ‘Gravity’ and ‘Identity’ sprawled into transformation and his death and the million of ways that it had changed everything about his life.

It was hard to think about.

Danny turned the page.

‘Wings’. Wings and feathers. Birds. Pigeons and crows and ducks and robins. And Robins. Biblically accurate angels who created the cosmos. Hope. And always hope.

“‘Hope’ is the thing with feathers — ”

Hope and Robins and Bats.

And always hope.

Was Gotham his haunt?

Was he the thing with feathers?

---

AN: shhhhh I've been writing as my wind down before sleep. Also special prize for @stoiczee. I promise we'll see more batfam next part. Danny just needed some time to react!

[stealingyourbones]

Mr. Mxyzptlk decides to have some fun and decides it’s time for some bodyswapping shenanigans. Behold, a list of varying bodyswaps I think would be neat to explore:

—

Jack Fenton and Clark Kent

Jack being Jack and getting used to his powers and being INCREDIBLY confused that he woke up NOT in his bed, not next to his incredible wife, and assuming this is a ghosts shenanigans. Clark is freaking out because he’s human, not next to HIS incredible wife, assumes this is a Mxyzptlk plot, and cements himself as an incredibly good father figure with Danny and Jazz, reaching out to other Supers for help to teach Jack the ropes and to wait out whatever Mxy has done.

—

Artemis swapping with Jazz

during an Outlaws mission and DURING some test for Jazz. Both freak out, both have to adjust to the other persons strengths and abilities, and Jason and Bizzaro have to calm a very confused and scared teenager who’s in an Amazonian body. While Danny’s friends are DESPERATELY trying to stop Artemis from throwing hands with every ghost she sees.

—

Johnny 13 and Jason Todd

Jason Todd is dead again. Not Good. Johnny is alive again. This ROCKS! Jason’s Red Hood goons lock him up because their boss is clearly compromised. Jason figures a way out of the Ghost Zone and asks Phantom for help. Along with having to acclimate to being able to control a sentient shadow and ghostly powers, Jason is in for a doozy. Johnny on the other hand, is going through many many attempts to escape Red Hood’s room and failing… until Red Robin crashes through a window. Apparently he should have answered the calls on Red Hood’s phone. Red Robin near instantly clocks that whoever is in Jason’s body, isn’t Jason. Ok, time to bring Not Jason to the Batcave to figure out what’s going on.

—

Vlad Masters and Alfred Pennyworth

Instant character change from both parties. Alfred is midway through talking to Bruce about over exerting himself and Vlad is midway through nearly successfully capturing Phantom.

—

Paulina and Wonder Woman

Paulina having to adjust with Amazonian strength and being lassoed by another party to figure out what’s happening in full (prolly Batman and his paranoid ass wanting the absolute truth <3). Diana having to adjust with being an average teenage girl who’s also high up on the Highschool food chain and pretending nothing is wrong until she can contact the League to figure out what just happened.

—

Tucker Foley and Dick Grayson:

Tucker swapping with Dick while Dick is at the Batcave. He’s too busy marveling at the tech and not really registering that he’s Not In His Body until he hears a roar of a motorcycle somewhere in the distance (One of the Batfamily coming back to the cave), and his reality comes crashing down. Tucker is mid ghost capture when Dick swaps with him and realizes VERY quickly that he’s not in his body and proceeds to go “fuck it. This hero he doesn’t know is genuinely struggling and he needs to blend in until he knows what’s going on. Dick doesn’t know this guys fighting capabilities but he has to AT LEAST know how to dodge well and aim well (Spoiler alert: Tucker doesn’t.

—

Danny Fenton and Martian Manhunter

DANNY IS AN ALIEN! THIS IS THE COOLEST THING EVER!!… Danny also has absolutely no idea how to shapeshift so he’s stuck in J’onn’s true Martian form and uncontrollably shapeshifting random parts of his body out of stress because he can hear *everyones thoughts* within a few miles. Danny’s grown to be a quick learner with powers but with all this noise he just. Can’t. Concentrate. J’onn doing his damndest to act as a regular human boy while not panicking about having absolutely zero telepathy. He’s told the boy’s friends after they noticed something wrong. He found out midway on the walk to Sam’s house that J’onn can turn invisible quite easily. It’s not the same as it is in his body but it’s not too different, kind of like flexing a different sequence of muscles to create the same movement.