#stops his plans to take over the world by the ghost equivalent of a tiny baby holding ur finger for the first time ever

[zhelin-thames]

Tiny baby ghost

idea from Prompt for @silverblueglitter

The summoning circle glowed an eerie green, casting sharp shadows around the Justice League's meeting chamber. John Constantine, sleeves rolled up and cigarette dangling from his lips, muttered the last words of the incantation. The room held a tense silence, broken only by the faint hum of the magical energy.

When the green smoke cleared, instead of the imposing figure of the Ghost King they’d expected, a scrawny teenager in a black jumpsuit with white gloves and boots appeared, looking distinctly unimpressed.

“Seriously?!” Danny Phantom groaned, throwing up his hands. “It’s a school night!”

The room collectively blinked. Superman and Wonder Woman exchanged confused glances. Batman’s eyes narrowed behind his cowl, while the Batkids—perched around the room like chaotic gargoyles—leaned forward, intrigued.

“This… is the Ghost King?” Nightwing asked, his voice skeptical but amused.

“Ghost King?” Danny repeated, holding up a hand. “Nope. Wrong guy. Try again.”

“Clearly, this is a child,” Robin said flatly, stepping forward with his arms crossed. “Either the summoning ritual failed, or we’ve been deceived.”

“Who are you calling a child, mini-Nightmare?” Danny shot back, floating an inch off the ground to look taller. “I’m fifteen. How old are you, eight?”

“I am fourteen, you insufferable spirit,” Robin snapped, glaring daggers at him. “And you are woefully unqualified to speak to me in such a tone.”

Danny rolled his eyes. “Yeah, okay, Robin Junior. Let me know when you grow a sense of humor.”

Red Hood, perched casually on a table nearby, barked out a laugh. “I like this kid already.”

Robin scowled. “You would.”

Red Hood swung his legs off the table, standing to his full height. “Alright, Casper, if you’re not the Ghost King, why’d this ritual grab you instead?”

“That’s a great question! Wish I knew!” Danny said, throwing up his hands.

Constantine frowned, stepping closer. “You’re definitely ghostly, mate, and half-alive by the looks of you.” His sharp gaze softened just slightly. “You’re a bloody halfa.”

Danny froze, eyes darting to the swirling green barrier still holding him in the circle (not really). “I’m a ghost. And yeah, I’m alive. What’s it to you?”

Batman loomed closer, his deep voice cutting through the room. “If you’re not the Ghost King, why does this summoning work?”

“Great question! Wish I knew!” Danny threw up his arms again, his ectoplasm glowing faintly in frustration. “I don’t even know who you are, and you’ve already ruined my night! or Maybe the universe hates me. That’d explain a lot!”

“Who even made this circle?” Red Hood asked, pointing at Constantine. “Did you check it? It’s glowing green. That’s ghost vibes, man.”

“Thanks for the observation, Red Hood,” Constantine said dryly. “What gave it away, the ectoplasm or the ghost?”

“You are in no position to demand answers,” Batman growled.

“Oh my god, you’re worse than my parents,” Danny muttered.

Before Batman could respond, the air grew colder. A heavy, oppressive presence filled the room as green flames erupted in the middle of the chamber. From the flames stepped Pariah Dark, fully armored and radiating raw power, his glowing eyes zeroing in on Danny.

The League tensed, weapons at the ready, but Pariah didn’t even look at them. Instead, his expression softened in a way that could only be described as paternal as he reached out and plucked Danny out of the circle like a child grabbing a stuffed animal.

“Who dares summon my child?” Pariah rumbled, his deep voice shaking the room. He cradled Danny in one massive hand as though he were the most precious treasure in existence. Danny, for his part, just sighed and leaned against one of Pariah’s fingers.

“Dad, chill. They’re not trying to hurt me—” Danny shot a glare at Batman, “—yet.”

“‘Dad’?” Robin echoed, utterly baffled.

“They stressed him out,” Pariah continued as if Danny hadn’t spoken. “This is the third time in two weeks. Do you know how much sleep he’s lost? He has school!”

Pariah’s gaze darkened. “The third summoning this week,” he growled. “And for what? To disrupt his rest? His studies?”

“Studies?” Robin repeated incredulously. “This alleged ‘Ghost Prince’ is concerned with—”

“School,” Red Hood supplied helpfully, smirking. “That tracks. He’s just a kid.”

“I’M NOT JUST A KID!” Danny protested, his voice cracking slightly. Jason snorted.

Before anyone else could respond, Fright Knight materialized beside Pariah, his armor gleaming and his sword crackling with ghostly energy. He took one look at the summoning circle and grimaced.

“Shall I eliminate the offenders, my liege?” he asked Pariah, his grip tightening on his sword.

“No!” Danny yelped, waving his hands frantically. “No eliminating, no smiting! We talked about this, remember?”

Pariah sighed, his massive shoulders slumping. “They stressed you out,” he rumbled. “They should pay.”

“They’ll be fine,” Danny muttered. “Just… let me handle it, okay?”

“‘Fine,’ he says,” Red Hood muttered. “We’re seconds away from getting blasted into the afterlife.”

Robin's hand drifted toward his sword, his eyes darting between Pariah and Fright Knight. “This is absurd. We are the Justice League. Surely, we are not so easily—”

“Shut it, kid,” Consttantine interrupted. “Unless you want to test if we’re actually ‘fine.’”

Danny groaned. “Can we not do this right now?”

Wonder Woman stepped forward, her voice calm but firm. “We summoned you because we need the Ghost King’s aid to stop a catastrophic magical event threatening the world.”

“Then why not summon him?” Danny snapped. “I’m not the king!”

“Yet the ritual brought you,” Batman said, his voice a mix of curiosity and accusation.

Pariah’s gaze darkened. “The crown does not transfer unless challenged. And none shall dare challenge my son.”

Danny squirmed in his ghost-dad’s grip. “Okay, Dad, they get it. Can you not threaten to destroy the world for five minutes?”

Pariah huffed but gently set Danny down, though he remained close, a looming shadow of protective menace.

Constantine rubbed his temples, muttering something about “bloody teenagers” and “overprotective ghost tyrants.” Meanwhile, the Batkids exchanged glances, clearly plotting something.

Danny sighed. “Look, I’ll help you guys with your big, scary magical problem, but can we make it quick? I have a chem test tomorrow.”

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 149

Danny is not the ghost king. In fact, he’s never going to be the ghost king. 

However, that doesn’t stop him from getting summoned, which is stressful. First of all, he has school to deal with, second of all, he’s just a lil baby ghost so shouldn’t even be able to be summoned, and three, his new ghost-dad gets a… tiny bit upset. Not at him, but he can only talk him out of destroying a world thanks to some idiot-cults so many times before there’s the temptation to let him do so. 

[fanartfunart]

Fly Away

Episode 1: Paon Lilas (*Lilac Peacock)

Ao3 Link (If I actually continue this, check my Ao3 of the same name “Fanartfunart”.. Considering how much mental real estate it’s taking up, I probably will.)

An au in which Adrien didn't succeed in trying to 'sneak' into brick and mortar school and therefore also didn't get the Black Cat miraculous..... but he did find a pretty peacock. (It's in his house... I mean....) Ladybug and Féline Sombre (Who uses She/They. Black Cat hero name thanks to @broadwaytheanimatedseries) get some help from the mysterious peacock miraculous holder, but Ladybug isn’t sure he’s 100% doing this for good.

Warnings: Canon typical violence.... Not much else? Tell me if I need to add anything.

A/N because Brick and Mortar schoolers never know that’s what they are: "Brick and Mortar school" is a homeschool/online school method of reference to in-person schools before calling it “in-person” was a thing. I 100% think Adrien would use that phrasing. (if the writers knew it existed...Tho. Idk if there's a French equivalent)

-*-

Adrien knew he shouldn’t be doing this. This was a worse idea than trying to sneak his way into brick and mortar school. He’d only seen it by accident. He wasn’t even doing very good at committing to breaking into his father’s mysterious safe. This was the third time he’d come back down to find out what was behind that painting.... He should really not be doing this. But...a secret compartment behind his mother’s painting was just… too interesting to ignore. He unfurled an umbrella to cover himself from the cameras his father probably had in the room. Inching his way to the painting of his mother. 

...He had had far too much time to think about this. He only had to punch in the code once (his mother’s birthday- frankly, his father really needed a code harder to guess), for the safe to click and unlock.

The contents… were not what he anticipated. It looked like a keepsake box, not a super secret compartment. He ghosted a hand over the frame of his mother’s photo, blinking away the lingering sadness. ...A peacock brooch? He picked it up, tumbling it in his hand. It almost hummed with energy. He tilted his head, brow raised.

Footsteps.

Adrien frantically closed the hidden compartment and glancing for a hiding place. The umbrella closed over his head just as he dove for the curtain. That… might bruise. He flattened himself against the windowsill, going on his tip-toes on the barely-there window ledge. 

From the distinct clack of dress shoes on the floor, his father had entered the room. Adrien held his breath, hearing his father’s footsteps come closer. A strange whirr. Then silence. Adrien stood there for a long moment, feeling the edges of the peacock brooch dig into his clenched fist. Heart hammering. But father never called for Natalie, or his bodyguard, or moved, or anything. It was eerily quiet. The umbrella peaked out of the curtain. He popped open the umbrella to find… no one. 

"What?" Adrien whispered to himself. He frowned, and tiptoed out from the window, before racing out of the room, down the hall, and outside. Once safely in the garden, he dropped the umbrella. He slid down into the grass, taking deep breaths. 

The brooch vibrated.

Wait. The brooch vibrated? He opened his hand. He had to shield his face from the burst of light. He opened an eye to see… a tiny… hummingbird? No, it was a peacock. Why is a peacock… floating? And Tiny? And why isn’t he sneezing? Are miniature peacocks hypoallergenic? “What the...”

“Ooooo, hello!” The creature said cheerfully, “Lovely weather isn’t it? Beautiful flowers! Nice to be outdoors for once isn’t it? Are you my new miraculous wielder? You’re so cute! You look almost like…” tears welled up into the miniature peacock’s eyes. Adrien looked around frantically. It kept talking unintelligibly between sobs, gesturing vaguely.

“Are you… okay?”

“Noooooooo.”

“Right. Er-” Adrien frowned, clearly it wasn’t going to make sense if he asked what was wrong. He opted for distraction. “Do… you want something to eat?”

“Oh sure!” The tiny peacock’s tears cleared up immediately.

Adrien blinked at the sudden change in mood and nodded “Let’s… Let’s go get you something to eat… I guess. Er, what are you?”

"Oh I'm Duusu, a kwami, I can grant the power to hone emotions into constructs."

He tilted his head. The image of Ladybug summoning her Lucky Charm came to mind. "Like… a superhero? How?”

"Well you are transformed by a magic phrase, and once transformed, you can create a sentimonster out of vibrant emotions. Whoever holds the Amok, the item imbued with power, can control the sentimonster."

“Oh, cool!”

"It is! Do you have any mangoes? I love mango."

“We’ll see.” Adrien glanced at the peacock brooch and stuffed it into his pocket. He looked back at the door inside, then Duusu. “Actually, can you… hide? Just for now-”

“Oh yes! Don’t worry! I know the Kwami and our wielder's identities are a secret.” The kwami zipped into Adrien’s over-shirt inner pocket and settled there. It felt… almost natural. He smiled a bit to himself and went to find out if they had some good fruit for the tiny peacock. 

-

The TV played in the background while Duusu had another sudden breakdown about… something. Adrien still wasn’t sure what. He was starting to feel very out of his depth. 

“Duusu.... Duusu. D- Duusu, do you want to talk about it?” There was a pause before the tears flowed even harder. Adrien was reminded of a sprinkler.

His eyes were pulled to the TV, with a flash of red and black blurring on the screen. Followed by an Akuma. Ladybug and Féline Sombre. He glanced at the Kwami. “Duusu… you mentioned you can give me powers, right?”

“Mhm! You just have to say ‘Spread my feathers.’”

“Alright! Duusu-”

“OH! Wait I didn’t-”

“Spread my feathers!” The transformation felt so natural, like he was made to do this. He struck a pose and smiled behind the fan that materialized in his hand. “Alright, let’s go help Ladybug and Féline Sombre.”

He didn’t expect to start… feeling, seeing emotions. Although he supposed that made sense for the power set. They were everywhere- it was like being dropped into the deep end of a pool, surrounded and covered. Fear, worry, frustration, annoyance, determination. Stronger emotions felt… bigger, somehow. The world was full of colors and feelings he’d never expected. He lept across rooftops, feeling like he was flying. His own elation from the truest sense of freedom he’s ever had in… ever; a bright vibrant bubble. He stumbled to a stop as he spotted Ladybug.

Ladybug was determined… and scared? He didn’t expect that from Paris’s hero. She kept looking around, searching for a plan. The redhead cat hero dove in from above and smacked the Akuma with their baton. Her baton was then immediately captured and swallowed by the plants under the Akuma’s control. Féline Sombe pulled desperately before eventually giving up and vaulting towards Ladybug. She was scared too, he noticed, and frustrated.

The Akumatized person was angry. So so angry it was overwhelming. He almost couldn’t see the person behind their anger. “It’s only a matter of time before Chloé Bourgeois and the litterers of Paris pay!” The plant-covered Akuma cackled. 

Chloe?! Well that’s not good. One of his only friends is in danger?

“Bonzaniac is just gonna grow bigger if they go anywhere near the Eiffel. We need to prune this plant before it’s unmanageable.” Ladybug told Féline Sombre, wrapping her yo-yo around the Akuma’s legs, straining to control Bonzaniac’s movement.

Féline Sombre gestured widely, “If I touch them I’ll just become Cat-nip! How are we supposed to stop them?”

Ladybug called her Lucky Charm, ending up with a polka dotted fishing pole. “How’s that supposed to help?” 

The peacock hero frowned and… Chloé? What’s she doing here? Bonzaniac noticed her as well, it seemed, because the plant growth reached toward her. Chloé’s fear grew rapidly and immediately. He plucked a feather from the fan, imbuing it with power. He dove from his perch on the roof down towards Chloé and Bonzaniac. 

“Fly away, darling amok.” The feather fluttered into Chloé’s necklace. He grabbed a traffic cone and hurled it at the plant tendrils, keeping it from touching Chloé. Féline Sombre quickly took over the idea, batting away the tendrils with a trash can lid. (That made Chloé cringe.) A purplish mask of light illuminated Chloé’s and his own face. “Chloé, I am…er- Paon Lilas. I can sense your fear. Let me help you turn it into safety. I can grant you a construct to protect you.” 

“Then just do it already!” Chloé cried, “Please just don’t let it turn me into a sticky sappy gross tree!” A large golden bear materialized in front of Chloe. It roared and Chloé gasped. “Mr. Cuddles!”

Ladybug was... understandably confused. “What? Another Akuma?” She furrowed her brow and deepened her fighting stance.

“OH! No no no, uh, I’m Paon Lilas." He flourished his fan with a bow. "I’m here to help.”

Ladybug’s suspicion grew, but he didn’t have much of a chance to explain himself as Bonzaniac roared and turned on him, aiming their plant tendrils towards him. “Hey! I’m not really the roosting type of bird!” He dived for cover behind a car, patting himself down, “Come on, is the only weapon I get a fan? Why couldn’t I get a baton or something like that?”

The gold bear attacked Bonzaniac, knocking them down. Bonzaniac grappled the bear in plants, taking the plants away from protecting their back.

Ladybug gasped, "There! They only have so much plant matter! Féline, destroy as much plant matter as you can, Paon, distract Bonzaniac! I'm going Akuma fishing."

The two other heroes nodded. 

"Cataclysm!" Féline Sombre yelled, summoning black destructive energy around their hand. She ducked and weaved towards the center of Bonzaniac's plant mass, jumping out of the way of grasping tendrils. 

Paon Lilas whistled "Hey Bonzaniac, have you heard about Fast Fashion? I use all my outfits that way. Never worn the same shirt twice!"

The Akuma roared "All. That. WASTE!" They focused a massive amount of plant matter towards him. 

"Didn't think that'd work so effectively," he muttered under his breath. He lept out of the way, and back around the bend of the car. The plants wrapped up around the car. He whooped in triamph.

Féline Sombre finally managed to hit Bonzaniac, severely reducing the amount of plants in their control. Ladybug swung the fishing pole and caught a necklace from in the middle of the thicket of plant matter. She crushed it under foot and captured the purple butterfly that fluttered out. 

Mr Cuddly the sentibear sat on the Akuma victim. Paon frowned and glanced at Chloé. The gardener looked dazed and confused.

“Now who do you think you are?” Chloe said, crossing her arms.

The gardener smacked the side of the over large bear. “Wh- you! You littered in my garden! And refused to simply pick it up!”

“So what? That's not my job," Chloe huffed, crossing her arms. The sentibear huffed with her.

Paon snapped his fingers, pulling the amok from the necklace, the sentibear disappearing. Chloe gasped, pouting.

"Mademoiselle Chloe," Paon sighed softly, "How would you feel if someone threw trash into your beautiful hair and refused to help clean it up?" Chloe grabbed her hair, and Paon saw her horror at the concept. "Exactly. That garden takes just as much work, or more, as your hair. I suggest apologizing."

She pouted, "Fine, your garden was pretty or whatever, sorry I messed it up." She flicked her hair over her shoulder and rolled her eyes. "There. I apologized."

Féline Sombre and Ladybug chatted in the background. Féline grabbed their baton and with a light salute, she vaulted away. 

Paon's Miraculous beeped. That... meant something right?

"Birdy!" Ladybug called, walking toward him, her own Miraculous beeping. "Where did you get that Miraculous?"

"Oh… um…. Funny story-"

"I'm sorry, but you need to give it to me. It doesn't belong to you."

"What?" Paon took a step back, "Why?" 

"It's been lost. I'm going to take it back to the original owner."

Paon paled. Did Ladybug know his father? Or did his father find the lost miraculous without giving it back? Did his father know what it was? What would happen if his father found out he took it? The bubble of elated freedom popped. "That… sounds like a great, morally right thing to do… but… consider…” He took a soft step back, glancing up to find a path of escape, hands raised surrender. “I can't. Sorry, bye!" Paon ran, leaping up and away.

Ladybug moved to go after him, only for her miraculous to beep again. Sabrina had run in just in time to comfort Chloé, so Ladybug sighed and ran in the opposite direction.

Adrien tripped over himself as he detransformed in a back alley. His legs weak, and head dizzy. "Woah- is that normal?"

Duusu looked up at him with sad eyes. "I meant to tell you. The miraculous is broken... If you continue to use it... it will hurt you."

"... Does it hurt you?"

Duusu thought for a moment. "The transformation? No.... It is nice... to see another use it's power so kindly."

Adrien glanced down. He looked at the broach clipped to his overshirt. The lightness... the freedom. He nodded firmly. Unclipping it from his shirt and instead clipping it in his inside pocket. Hidden. "I'll be careful. Come on, let's get something to eat...” He rubbed his head, “I feel like we both need it."

-

Marinette just barely managed to make it to the bakery before the afternoon rush.

"Marinette! How was school?” Tom called, opening his arms for a hug. She happily took her place in her father’s arms.

"Not great.. Chloé caused another Akuma."

Tom sighed and shook his head, releasing her with a pat on the back. "At least we have Ladybug and Féline Sombre. Come on, if you can't learn in peace at school you can learn some more Dupain-Chang classics!"

Marinette chuckled and nodded, heading over to get ready to work behind the counter.

The door chimed, signaling the entrance of a young blond. She stared at him. He seemed oddly familiar. She started picturing him against all the blonds she knew, although her brain was still somewhat stuck on the Peacock Miraculous holder…. She really needed to talk to Master Fu about that. 

The boy stumbled. He was just about to faceplant into the counter before Marinette, intending to catch him- shoved him. He fell on his rear instead. 

“OH, I’m so sorry! Are you okay?” Marinette cried, moving to pull him up to his feet. He was surprisingly light, ohmy and now she just manhandled him like a human doll.

“It’s okay! You saved me from what was probably a worse fate.” He giggled awkwardly, "Thanks... I’ve been.. a bit dizzy today, I guess."

"Oh, I hope you feel better, anything I can do to help?"

"Heh, I was looking for food. Got some, er, fruity stuff?"

"Fruity, fruit. For sure, fruit." Marinette stared at him a bit longer. Finally the images and fashion magazine clippings clicked next to the boy’s face. She gasped "Adrien Agreste! You're Gabriel Agreste's son! He’s my favorite fashion designer!"

He laughed awkwardly. Rubbing the back of his head. "Yeah… That’s… that’s me."

"You probably hear that all the time, sorry! But! Fruit." She walked over to the counter and gestured at the prepared goods. "Macaroons are always good, and there's some a couple of fruit Eclairs, brioche and jam-"

He smiled somewhat stiffly, before frowning at the eclairs. He made a subtle 'come here' gesture. Marinette looked down at the eclairs herself, unsure what exactly made him frown.

He sighed, adjusting his overshirt. (Duusu settled nicely into the pocket again, glad to have been able to choose his treat.) "I think one of those is good.... Er... actually, I think two." 

He handed her the money, and she handed him the pastries. "Thank you."

She smiled, "Thank you! Come again soon. Just try not to trip, that's usually my thing."

He laughed. "Actually…” He takes a bite of his eclair, with a smile “I think I will definetly try to come in again."

"Oh! Okay, cool!"

He waved and walked out of the establishment with a small smile.

Tom leaned over as she watched him leave. "Flirting with the customers?"

Marinette gasped dramatically, "NoOo dad no. He's... just a friend."

Adrien leaned against a wall and sighed. Duusu floated up into view, taking a section of eclair. "Ah young love..."

He shook his head, "...She's just a friend..." He gasped, glancing back at the bakery with a smile, "A friend."

-

Marinette frowned, "Wait, Master Fu, do you think he could be working with Hawkmoth?"

"It is a possibility. I wouldn’t be surprised if the butterfly and the peacock had been nearby each other. If you can find out where he found it, it may help us find Hawkmoth.”

“Hm, he didn’t seem like he was with Hawkmoth. He was helpful... And he actually got Chloé to apologize?”  She was still bewildered about that. It wasn’t the best apology ever, but she still actually did it.

“The peacock wields the power of emotion, Peon Lilas will be able to sense emotion. He can very easily use that information to manipulate others into doing things for him. Even something as simple as an apology.”

She frowned, considering, “I think I understand.”

“Be careful, the peacock is not to be underestimated. Make sure you and Féline Sombre are prepared for what he might do next."

She nodded firmly. "I will be.”

-

Gabriel Agreste stared at the paused frame from the newscast on his newest enemy. Emile's painting ajar and missing a vital item. "Natalie... Where is the surveillance footage for this room?"

She silently pulled up the footage, scrolling through to find an umbrella blocking their view of their thief.

Gabriel growled under his breath and stood up. "Time to catch a runaway bird, it seems. See what you can find from the rest of the cameras in and out of the building. If there's anything or anyone out of place, you tell me immediately."

"What will you do sir?" Natalie asked, already scanning through footage on her tablet.

"Someone found and stole the peacock miraculous from right under our noses. I need to find a way to protect my identity and a lure for our heroic peafoul.”

[voxymoxyboxy]

Drabbles for my Various Sam and Max AUs 01- Ghost Max AU

Hi there! I wanted to actually publish my writing for once, so I decided to write a whole bunch of drabbles of my various Sam and Max AUs! I’m gonna try to make at least one for every AU, so wish me luck! Here’s the first one!

P.S. If you wanna hear more about them, please ask! I wanna talk about them! Don’t be shy!

TW: Mentions of Death and Cursing 

Drabble 01- Ghost Max AU

Max had never really seen himself as a ‘people’ person.

When he was a kid, the only ones who’d ever tolerated his presence were his parents and a handful of his siblings, and even then it sometimes felt like that was stretching it. That had been fine by him. Playing too roughly with others usually sent him to time out while playing by the rules bored him out of his mind. At the end of the day, it just seemed easier to keep to himself.

The lagomorph had even preferred it, regardless of that weird pang in his chest.

In all of his life, Max could honestly say that he had grown fond of his workmates. Would never openly admit it, but the signs had been there. Whenever the rabbit teased Sybil, poked fun at Superball, eventually turned into something akin to affectionate after a year of knowing them. Hell, the lagomorph remembered the days he’d spent trying to get them together, leaving notes and gifts as the other.

There was a small part of him that yearned to go back. If anything, they were the only things worth living for.

Being dead put a damper on all that, of course.

In the beginning it had been great! Being a ghost was amazing! No responsibilities (taxes who?), all the free time in the world to do whatever the lagomorph wanted. Sure, not being able to enjoy the luxuries of food was a bummer but flying was pretty neat! It was only when Max tried leaving when it hit him. Literally.

What appeared to be some kind of force field prevented him from leaving his little ramshackle apartment. That hadn’t bothered him at first. After all, learning what ghostly powers he held could keep the rabbit entertained for hours! Could being the key word. While fun to start, progress was slow then came to a stop completely when it became fruitless. Roaming the same halls grew boring. Floating lost its charm. The yellow of the walls started taunting him almost.

Going to Heaven would’ve been preferable to the pseudo-hell he was trapped in.  

A tiny sliver of hope came when the corpse cleaners came a few days after his death. Hermit that Max was, someone must’ve finally called the police after the smell became too much to bear. They’d burst in, covered head to toe in white before getting right to work. Which was weird, but not unexpected. Someone was making sure that his death was but a blip to be forgotten.

That was okay. The lagomorph planned to have the last laugh.

Opportunity struck. Jumping in one of their paths, the rabbit had snapped at the man, laying out every insult in the book (that he’d written, by the way). Imagine the look on his face when the fucker simply walked through him, face set in stone as if he hadn’t heard a damn word.

Because he hadn’t, Max had realized, horror thrumming in his core.

Nobody could.

They left. A few more people entered. The lagomorph tried everything. Shouting, yelling, kicking their kneecaps, pushing a tumbler off the kitchen counter like in those old horror movies his ma told him not to watch. Nothing. No flinching or yelps of pain left their mouths. Only sounds of exertion and mumbling before they too were gone, leaving the rabbit in silence.

Quiet. It was too quiet. Noise kept Max busy, kept that small ball of darkness from spreading through his brain like poison. Silence, for some, was comforting.

For him it was deafening.  

Forced to see the same things day in and day out, the rabbit soon discovered the pang was back in full force. When exactly had it disappeared? The thought, while elusive during the day, always crept back at night, when Max couldn’t sleep to keep it at bay. It grew, evolved into what-ifs and questions he had no answers for.  

How had Sybil and Superball reacted to his death? They had to know it was murder, right? A little bump to the head was the last way he wanted to go out, right behind getting shot but ahead of choking on a gummy bear. Were they looking for the bastard that did him in? A tiny voice from who-knows-where told the lagomorph that the pair didn’t care enough.

Max tended to agree.

What of his family? Funnily enough, getting offed made the rabbit more appreciative of his family. They certainly weren’t the most loving or caring, but there were hints here and there. A kiss on the forehead, an older sibling giving him the slightly bigger half of a cookie, little Milly coming to climbing into his bed during a particularly bad thunderstorm. Despite not thinking about them for countless years, Max couldn’t stop the memories from playing over and over.  

It didn’t take him long to learn that they kept him sane, let him forget the pain in his chest.

(Let him forget how lonely he was-)

It hurt to confess that he desperately craved contact. With humans, animals, anyone! Even a scrap would last him a lifetime at that point-

You could say Sam was Max’s saving grace, as pathetic as that sounded.

The day the dog moved in was perhaps the happiest moment of Max’s- well, not life, but whatever the ghost equivalent was. Non-life? Existence? Guy was noisy for sure. Talked through mundane tasks, whistled random tunes, turned up the tv to the point where the lagomorph was sure the neighbors could hear every gunshot from the noir films Sam was so fond of, all of it blended into a wonderful symphony of cacophony.

Max loved it. Even his terrible banjo playing. Found it endearing even, but he would take that lil’ tidbit to his grave… If he could find it, that is.

The rabbit had watched from afar. Not really a point to creep on the guy up close when the chance of seeing him was zero percent. He was used to stalking people from afar anyway (obviously), so it felt nice to fall into a rhythm.

Watch Sam wake up. Morning routine included bathroom necessities, of which Max had only peeked once (by accident!). Least he could do was give the poor dog some privacy. After that was breakfast. Usually a slice of toast or bowl of cereal (something sugary and tooth-rotting, so the rabbit knew he had good taste) along with the essential cup of coffee. It amused Max to no end that it was more a glorified cup of milk and sugar, yet it was-dare he think it- kinda cute actually.

From all his observations, Max could only assume the dog was a detective of some sort. His oak desk was covered with endless amounts of papers and folders, of which he would spend the entire day looking through until Sam came home to do the same. Almost felt like he was some kind of housewife waiting for her husband.

Almost like he actually meant something again.

If he’d met Sam when he was alive, what would’ve been different?

Everything. There was no doubt about it.

Sam was special.

Max just hadn’t known how much until that special night….

Maybe ‘people’ weren’t that bad after all.

[wetalkinboutbooks]

New Year, New Review 🤩

A Sky Beyond the Storm by Sabaa Tahir

Summary: The long-imprisoned jinn are on the attack, wreaking bloody havoc in villages and cities alike. But for the Nightbringer, vengeance on his human foes is just the beginning.

At his side, Commandant Keris Veturia declares herself Empress, and calls for the heads of any and all who defy her rule. At the top of the list? The Blood Shrike and her remaining family.

Laia of Serra, now allied with the Blood Shrike, struggles to recover from the loss of the two people most important to her. Determined to stop the approaching apocalypse, she throws herself into the destruction of the Nightbringer. In the process, she awakens an ancient power that could lead her to victory--or to an unimaginable doom.

And deep in the Waiting Place, the Soul Catcher seeks only to forget the life--and love--he left behind. Yet doing so means ignoring the trail of murder left by the Nightbringer and his jinn. To uphold his oath and protect the human world from the supernatural, the Soul Catcher must look beyond the borders of his own land. He must take on a mission that could save--or destroy--all that he knows. (Taken from Goodreads)

Our Ratings:  

 → Geena:  ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

 → Kae: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Overall: The final instalment of the Ember Quartet had us crying in the metaphorical club. It’s exciting, terrifying, and probably the horniest book in the series and we loved it!

~Spoiler-full discussion below~

The Good:

→ Elias and Laia

Geena: In the final instalment of the Ember quartet, Sabaa deprives us of an Elias POV and slaps us with the Soulcatcher instead… He’s very much an ‘emotions are bad’ type of dude, the opposite of Elias who always had so many… but both of them are so angsty? The Soulcatcher really likes to beat up trees when his memories from when he was Elias resurface which was so emo to me. Despite being possessed by Mauth he is also such a coward, especially around Laia, because Elias’ feelings for Laia scare him and every single time he is like *running emoji*. We were surprised that Sabaa let him remain the soulcatcher for so long, every chapter I was like ‘Okay, maybe this is where Elias breaks through…’ but no.. Elias remained buried UNTIL their night in the cabin… the Soulcatcher was like ‘k I’m out’ but ONLY for ONE NIGHT and that still makes me scream.. The Soulcatcher was like ‘you kids are too horny for me, I’m gonna take a nap for a bit and let Elias take over bc Jesus.’ 

Despite it all, the Soulcatcher’s chapters were enjoyable albeit painful because this man was so duty bound, like even Elias wasn’t that dedicated when he was a Mask. But near the end, when we finally get the chapter that starts with Elias…. Ngl I cried a little, and immediately wanted to reread the whole series (I feel like Sabaa did this on purpose to torture us). I want to fight Sabaa though, like she did an amazing job showing how Elias’ conscious and the Soulcatcher’s conscious were constantly fighting one another, and how Elias’ memories of the people he loved ultimately fuelled the Soulcatcher’s actions… even though the Soulcatcher was like ‘I’m doing this for the ghosts’ like okay… no ghost told you to keep protecting and kissing Laia but you still did it…  

Kae: Okay, so Geena summed up my boy Ilyaas pretty damn well. Also, we LOVE HIS ETHNIC NAME IN THIS HOUSE. But um, YES. Elias was a sad boy ™ the whole time while fighting his emotions and ultimately losing. It was so PAINFUL as a reader, seeing all of  his chapters except the ONE say ‘Soulcatcher’. But when it finally said ELIAS again, I too, started to cry. Because he was BACK. 

You can all thank the power of Laia’s determination to seduce Elias back to himself, because our girl was NOT giving up. She said ‘you gonna get this coochie, dammit’ and in the cabin, Elias was like ‘well i’ll be damned. I sure as hell am. I am BACK BAYBEEEEE’

Geena: Sabaa Tahir said horny rights like ksjdnfdsjknfsdk

Kae: AUFVAHLHVKJ. BUT YES. In the end, love won. And so did sex because everyone was doin it or TRYING to do it. I guess when the world is ending, you only get one last time to uhh…. Have a good time. So they made sure they did lmao 

Now, let’s get into Laia. 

Laia. My sweet little cupcake. My mug of tea with too much honey. This girl has been through literal hell and back, and yet, she kept going. She NEVER gave up. Laia woke up in book 4 like ‘Today i will commit crimes. Helene and I crave violence’ and they both just started kicking ASS and I LOVED THAT. I was really happy to see the progression of Laia and Helen’s friendship and how they genuinely grew to like one another and see each other as besties. They both deserved a girl friend and I’m glad they found a friendship within each other. 

Laia is the bravest character in this damn book. She went from poor scholar, to slave, to hero and she was brave because she had to be. Laia is strong and took on their entire world. She had help, but she did a lot of it alone and that takes some real guts. She is the most genuine, sweetest, bravest girl and I love her. <3 

Laia also single handedly brought the Ilyaas back from his Soulcatcher shit. During this whole book she was just like ‘You know what? I think I’mma go mess with Elias’ emo ass today to see if I can get him to kiss me or something’ THEN SHE PROCEEDED TO SHOW UP AT THIS MANS HOUSE (realm or whatever) BUTTASS NEKKID. And he saw her and immediately flew the hell out of there it was TOO MUCH and he LIKED IT but couldn’t admit it. 

Geena: You know what I love about that whole scene was like earlier she was like ‘He’s a lost cause idc’ and then Darin was like ‘Elias wouldn’t give up on you if that happened’ and Laia was like ‘you’re right, he would show up stark naked and try to seduce me back to my body’ and she did just that...

Kae: SHE DID. SHE SHOWED UP AND SHOWED OUT! Like, her entire mission was to bring Elias back while also planning on taking down the Nightbringer. But she was straight up like ‘okay but not before i get my man back through SEDUCTION’. Ugh, the mango scene?  Superb. 

Geena: Laia is hands down one of my favourite book characters to exist. Her journey from the first book being a scared girl with a missing brother, to being the face of a revolution… like the GROWTH. Like Kae mentioned, she and Helene end up as BESTIIEESSSS, and I was surprised at how natural they seemed. Because we went from them hating each other to close friends, but despite not seeing their development, it came off so natural? So, I loved that! 

Kae covered Laia’s character pretty thoroughly, she was both a horndog and a bad bitch. Like this girl has pretended to be a Slave for the Commandment to travelling a desert by herself and facing off a squad of Jinn… In retrospect, Laia is a unique case, she’s allowed to be kind and caring and doesn’t have to be a fighter type to be strong. She’s not the chosen one, which this book made clear, it could’ve been anyone to fight the Nightbringer… but only Laia was strong enough to love him AND defy him. And I just love her a lot… she was very much an anime protagonist with the power of love, family, and friendship… anyways I love her and that’s all I have to say

→ Helene 

Geena: The way I ended up liking and rooting for Helene this book? Came out of left field. To be honest, in previous books I didn’t feel much for her other than ‘stop chasing after Elias and Laia pls.’ But this book I wanted her to win, especially with the fight against the germanic-esque invaders. She goes through substantial development, no longer seeing Scholars as slaves and taking their opinions seriously.. Like Laia, Musa, and Darin were all a part of her crew. A stark difference from Book 1 Helene, who thought Scholars only had one role in the world and that was slaves. 

Helene… like Laia… really has the Ember equivalent of hot girl summer with Harper… all the time she spends denying it she is like *jumps on him the chance she gets*. The bath scene… Helene’s power was turning her tortuer into her MAN… But also Sabaa said that ‘yes she has changed, but she has to repent for her sins’ and that’s why Helene is basically left alone at the end (save for Laia, Elias, and Musa). 

Kae: So not gonna lie, I never actually disliked Helene. I saw her as the flawed character she was in the beginning. During her cat and mouse chase with Elias and Laia in the beginning, she would piss me OFF because like, that’s your BEST FRIEEEEEND. JUST STAAAAHP. But also, it was him or her and her family's death, so I get it. But I always saw potential in her to be better. And thank GOODNESS she went through all that character development. Because she was a damn menace in the beginning. 

Also like Geena mentioned; Helly and Harper finally hooking up? I swear the heavens opened up in that moment because EVERYONE could feel their tension. LIKE JUST DO IT ALREADY. You can’t fight love, baybeeee

Watching Helly grow as a person was really rewarding as a reader. Like Geena said, she went from hating scholars to being like ‘hmm, maybe my opinions are shitty?’ and straight up changed.  I also feel for her because she lost her ENTIRE family and like, honestly? I would’ve given up. BUT SHE DIDN’T. She’s a literal fighter, bred for this shit. So she FOUGHT. And I was really scared she was gonna get murked because y’all know Keris’ tiny evil ass doesn’t have a chill button. And when they were fighting? I was like LAWD PLS DON’T  TAKE HELLY. But instead he took Harper *upside down smiley face* SO THAT WAS FUCKED UP AND I WASN’T READY FOR IT. But a piece of me knew it was coming. 

The Bad:   

→ Darin and Harper

Geena: As Kae mentioned… Harper kicked the can in this book :’( His eventual fall came from loving and caring for Helene too much, which left him open and gave Keris the chance to stab him. Harper was basically Helene’s heart outside her body, and when he went down so did Helene. I had had a feeling when Book 3 ended that Harper wouldn’t make it, but I WASN’T HAPPY ABOUT BEING RIGHT FOR ONCE… Harper had finally met his brother (Elias) and hadn’t even had a chance to meet the real Elias and talk to him about their father or other sibling stuff. LIKE OF ALL CHARACTER DEATHS… AND THERE WAS A LOT… The other one that came out of left field was fucking Darin of Serra… DARIN… THE ONE DUDE WE SPENT TWO WHOLE BOOKS SAVING… DEAD WITH A SNAP OF HIS NECK!! I WAS SO MAD

LIKE SABAA HAD US THINKING HE WAS GONNA BE SAFE, SHE GAVE HIM A LIL GIRLFRIEND AND EVERYTHING BUT THEN SHE GOES.. AND KILLS HIM?? JUST LIKE THAT?? Then we had to read the scenes where Elias helps both Darin and Harper pass over into the afterlife and I was just *cries angrily* 

Kae: Well, THAT was sad. Have you ever just like, felt your heart break into a million tiny irreparable pieces? That’s how I felt when Darin and Harper died. Because like, they were both trying to save the women they loved. Darin to Laia, (foolishly so against the Nightbringer) but I would do it for my little sister too. And Harper with Helene against evilass Keris. Dude, that shit just sucked. It hurt to read. It hurt to imagine the girls feeling the pain of their deaths. They were both such good men. And DARIIIN. 

Darin didn’t have to go out like that, man. It was such a harsh death. No last words. It was just over and his body was just gone. I wish Laia would’ve been able to talk with him at The Waiting Place at least one last time. But it is what it is. I hated to see both of them go. Especially since Darin pretty much sparked this whole series. 

Sure, Laia, Helene, and Elias were the main characters. But Darin was the spark that started the fire. And he didn’t even get to see it’s flames extinguished. 

Geena: He was the ember in the ashes… literally like Sabaa uses that for Elias and Laia but it applies to Darin the most

Kae: LITCHRALLY gonna get teary eyed over here. Our boys deserved better :( 

Conclusion 

Geena: This was not at all a disappointing end to the series we’ve followed closely for so long. The different plot points and character arcs were tied up nicely, and Sabaa Tahir showed us once again why she’s one of the best fantasy writers on this side of the Milky Way. We didn’t even bother including a ‘The Ugly’ section because we loved it too much ksfmsd. The only qualm I’d have with the end was the empire remaining, Helene recognized the Scholars as equals but centuries of pain isn’t easily forgotten you know? SO THAT’S WHY I THINK WE DESERVE A SEQUEL SERIES… BUT I DIGRESS… OVERALL, I loved this book and the ending for all the characters ESPECIALLY FOR OUR GIRL LAIA <3

Kae: YES. I AGREE 100% WITH GEENA. It was such a beautiful end to the series. Sabaa is  GENIUS and her storytelling is phenomenal. I loved every little surprise she’s hidden in all of the books. ESPECIALLY WITH COOK BEING ALIVE? I DIDN’T SEE THAT SHIT COMING AT ALL. LIKE HOLY SHIT? So Laia had some remaining family afterall, and I think that’s very sweet. I’m really sad to see the series be over with and Geena and I are both *~HOPIIIING~* for an epilogue or some little crumbs or SOMETHING with the gang and how their lives ended up into middle adulthood or something. 

Geena: I would literally take a single paragraph… Ms. Tahir…. Blease…

Kae: But yes, in conclusion, Laia has a heart of gold and we LOVE HER. She’s brave and strong and smart, and was the only one out of THOUSANDS to stick for herself and defy the Nightbringer, and save the whole world. Helene has come a long way and she developed beautifully as a character. And Elias. Ohhh, Ilyaas. His continued self sacrifice and bravery and love still helped him live in the end and I think that’s beautiful. 

[mcg777]

| Count My Freckles |

TWDG Drabble Challenge

Day 05: “Nightmare” 

Pairing: Clementine x Louis

Word Count: 1595

Description: Clementine wakes up from a horrible nightmare and Louis makes it his mission to make her feel better. His plan is adorably odd.

Notes: This originally wasn’t for the TWDG drabble challenge (I started writing it way before knowing about it), but I thought I might as well participate! ^-^

Thanks to @stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale for creating this challenge!        

Read on AO3

     ————————————————————————————————-

           Blood. All she could see was blood. It followed her around like a shadow, leaving a trail of wet footprints as she roamed the depths of her darkest memories.

           “Hey,” he whispered, “it’s okay.”

           Clementine ran her fingers through her temple, wishing it would be enough to soothe the ringing in her ears… but it wasn’t. Each time her heart pulsed it felt like a stab to the chest, a feeling that worsened the dizziness in her head.

           Just breathe, she told herself, you’ve been through this before.

           Louis rubbed her back, watching in silence as she did her best to calm herself down. He hated to see her like this. The nightmares had started to become more frequent in the last two weeks, and it seemed that no matter how much he tried, nothing he did or said had any effect on her. Of course, he could tell she was thankful. Every time, she’d squeeze his hand or give him a small smile; but the look in her eyes always returned to the same tiredness and dread.

           He rested his head against her forehead and stared into the night sky, barely visible due to the window’s wooden boards. He watched quietly as the stars sparkled through the dark, creating striking patterns that spread like small blotches of paint in a black canvas. Louis took in the beauty of the constellations. Only those who’d attempt to connect the dots would be met with such a magnificent sight…

           Then, it hit him.

           In a blink of an eye, he crawled on the bed and sat in front of Clementine, crossing his legs.

           “Count my freckles.”

           “What?”

           “My freckles,” he said, taking her hands in his and gently pulling her toward him, “count them.”

           Clementine stared at him in awe, her voice muffled by an invisible cloth of perplexity. The gap between them was now almost non-existent, with her arms resting around his neck and his hands on her back.

           “… and just how am I supposed to do that?”

           He smiled at her. “It’s easy! Just start on one side and once you’re done, move on to the other.”

           The cogs that worked in her brain failed to keep up with the reckless thumping of her burning chest.

           “What made you think of that?”

           “Don’t worry about it. Just trust me, okay?”

           She pursed her lips, inspecting his face. A sea of freckles adorned his cheeks and nose, going all the way up to his forehead. Attempting to count them would be the equivalent of madness; but when her eyes fell upon his again, so loving and inviting, she had no choice but to go along with the odd task he’d given her.

           Clementine breathed in slowly, an attempt to cool her tense body.

           “Alright, I’ll try.”

           Louis tilted his head, “Yeah?”

           She gave him a ghost of a smile, “Yeah.”

           He stared at her fondly, observing how the moonlight that spilled inside the room enveloped her in its delicate glow. Holding her close, he leaned in for a tender kiss.

           “Okay,” he murmured, pulling away just enough for his nose to brush hers. “Whenever you’re ready.”

           Clementine prepared herself to embark on the impossible quest that was counting the boy’s freckles. A spirited debate on how to best approach the situation began to run on her mind, yet none of the options voiced seemed efficient enough for the job. Noticing her struggle, Louis pressed his lips against hers again in an act of encouragement.

           “You got this.”

            She listened to his words. Saying she was putting too much thought into it would be an understatement. Perhaps going with the flow wasn’t such a bad idea.

           So, she did just that.

           Her eyes studied the left side of his face, stopping at the smallest dot.  

           One, two… she counted, taking a closer look at his cheek. Five more over here, six smaller ones over there – no, seven…  

           Just as she was processing that information, Louis planted a quick kiss on her lips.      

           “Louis.”

           “What?” he asked, failing miserably to hide the grin on his face.

           “You keep kissing me.”

           “Oh, didn’t I mention?” he said, raising a brow, “I’ve decided that every five seconds or so, I’ll kiss you.”

           She shook her head, “You know I won’t be able to keep track of your freckles if you do that.”

           “Well, that’s what makes it a challenge!”

           Clementine sighed. At that point, it might as well have been better to make up a random number and go with it.

           “Okay, then. How about…” she whispered, the corners of her mouth lifting into a small smile, “nine hundred and fourteen?”

           The way his laughter ignited the room caused her heart to flutter.

           “As much as I’d love to have as many freckles as the number of floors in our magnificent purple house,” he said, pulling her in for another kiss, “no, I don’t think so. Try again.”

           Just when she was about to speak, he intervened once more.

           “Oh, and before you ask,” he shifted on the bed, “yes, I do know how many freckles I have on my face.”

           That statement alone made her burst into a fit of giggles. He couldn’t possibly be serious.

           “Yeah, I’m not even gonna pretend I believe that.”

           “Hey, it’s true!”

           “You counted them?”

           He paused for a moment, his memories taking him back to much simpler times.

           “Yup, used to do it a lot back when I was younger. Every day, I’d wake up and run to the mirror to check if there were any new ones,” he said, a subtle pout then forming on his lips, “Didn’t see many changes, though.”

           The image of a little Louis standing in front of a mirror, squinting his eyes at his own reflection in search of new members for his freckle collection was incredibly adorable to Clementine. She pictured the shine in his eyes and the smile that’d surface on his face on the rare occasions he’d find another one, his inner joy projecting itself onto the outside world with each one of his victory dances.

           She was brought back to reality when she felt him brush a strand of hair away from her face.

           “That means no cheating.” he told her.

           “Alright, alright…”

           A new strategy was very well needed.

           Her eyes alone wouldn’t do the task justice, that was certain; not when it was so easy for her to lose herself in that captivating labyrinth of his. Clementine tugged on her bottom lip. Perhaps she could find another tool…    

           Her hand left his shoulder and slid up his cheek, its softness welcoming her fingers to carefully trace the constellations he wore so beautifully on his skin. She used her thumb to mark his freckles, gently brushing it along each one she came across. A rosy tint soon began to spread on his face as he kissed her yet again. Clementine smiled against his lips, ignoring the strong urge to keep them bound to her own. Instead, she let her fingertips guide the way once more, her focused gaze preventing her from losing track of anything.

           Her finger then reached his nose, carefully running it along the bridge all the way down to the tip. Louis flinched slightly, unable to suppress a laugh when she repeated the process again.

           “I didn’t know you were the ticklish type.” she teased.

           “I’m not.”

           Clementine raised a brow. Shortly after, she was drawing small circles on top of his nose, smiling when she got the exact same reaction from him.

           “You were saying?”

           “Okay, okay,” he laughed, brushing her hand away, “maybe a little.”

           A sense of calm submerged her body as she watched him with a tenderness only he could match. To think that a while earlier her heart had fallen victim to her mind’s haunting echoes of the past…

           She repelled those thoughts away.

           At last, her eyes scanned his forehead. It was slightly less busy than the rest of his face, which made the tiny specks far less challenging to count. Applying the same method, she found herself jumping from freckle to freckle in between kisses until there was none left.

           Just as Louis leaned in once more, Clementine placed a finger on top of his lips.

           “Eighty-four.”

           He stared at her, wide-eyed.

           “Oh, I-…” he breathed, “I didn’t expect you to actually count.”

           She let out a quiet laugh, watching as he rubbed the back of his neck.

           “So, did I get it right?’

           “Close,” he said, smiling softly, “it’s eighty-seven.”

           Damn.

           His hand trailed down her arm, stopping to enlace their fingers together.

           “It was a good effort, though.”

           She silently agreed.

           With that, Louis left his previous position to sit properly on the bed. Once again, he looked up at the peaceful night sky, admiring the stars that glowed in its dark blue tint. He hoped that she’d found the cluster of freckles on his face just as soothing as the constellations that glimmered above.

           “Hey, Louis?”

           The melody of her quiet voice made him turn to her. Her gaze was low, resting upon her lap, as if she was deep in thought. He waited patiently for her to continue, but nothing came. He held his breath as he yearned for a reaction – anything that’d tell him that it had worked, that it had been worth it… that she was okay.

           He didn’t have to wait long.

           The shine on Clementine’s eyes when she finally glanced up at him made him push all his fears away.

           “Thank you.”

[beeblebouse]

oh boy, here it is, my overly complicated wing au!

this is going to be an extremely long post even if i simplify it, my original planning of this takes up 2 pages on my google docs rip

with that said, it’s showtime babey!

almost every demon has wings. those who don’t are extremely weak, and are seen as basically just common ghosts. now, (most) demons aren’t born with wings, as they start to develop based on a demon’s power level. they cannot grow after a demon has turned about 20 in human years, as that’s when they hit their majority and their powers stop developing.

to make it (sorta) easier for everyone, demons can be classified with a ranking from 0-4. rankings 0-1 have a very strict ranking, with wings what will not grow past a certain length and strength. ranks 2-4 are a bit variable with wing sizes and strength due to the great variability between the lower side of the ranking and the higher side of each ranking.

rank 0s are your wingless demons. they’re seen as highly inferior, and would have some of the lowest jobs in the netherworld. there is extremely rare cases of a rank 0 demon gaining some sort of social status, but its only happened a handful of times. their powers are only slightly stronger than your average ghost. some demons develop very small wings just before their majority hits, although they’re usually lumped in with the 0s as the power level is still relatively equal.

rank 1 demons can be categorized with wings no bigger than about a foot or so in length, and powers that are about that of a stronger ghost/poltergeist. their wings aren’t very useful for much more than bragging rights over rank 0s and other non-demonic creatures. they are the ones working more of the lower level “basic” jobs of the netherworld. their wings only grow in 6-8 months before their majority hits.

rank 2 demons are the last of the “average” demons, and is also where a good majority of demons fall. this is also where wings (kinda) start to grow proportionally with the body, although they’re usually only about 2-3 feet in length. they can be a tiny bit shorter or longer if the demon is unusually short or tall, however. their wings still aren’t very useful, however some of the demons at the top of the 2s can glide for very short periods of time. (they can only do this in the netherworld as that’s where they’re strongest.) the rest of the twos can use their wings to really only slow them down a bit if they’re falling from a high place. these higher 2s also start to leak into the social elites, although they’re extremely low on the hierarchy of the elites if they manage to make it. their wings start growing around 2-4 years before their majority. their powers are usually about the level of the weaker demons in human history, the ones who are kinda annoying, but pose no threat. in the netherworld, it’s a normal amount of power for a demon, and it’s equal to the power of a couple of poltergeists.

now, rank 3s are where it starts to get fun. a level 3’s wings proportionally allow for gliding, however not flying, except in the cases of some higher 3s, however the flight is exhausting, is only doable in short bursts, and can only be done in the netherworld. a lower level 3 can only glide for short periods of time, however the higher ranked in level 3 can glide for what seems indefinitely in the netherworld, and for long periods of time with breaks in the physical world. their wings start growing about 8-10 years before their majority, as they need time to develop muscles in the wings to be able to hold them up while gliding. these demons make up the whole lower class of the elites, with the lowest being around the same rank as the few upper 2s that make it, and the upper 3s being the top of the lower politicians and large business owners. the powers of a level 3 demon are the ones you hear about from lesser demons of legend.

4s are where lines get kinda blurred, as the only standout of the 4s is really just the most upper ranking of them. the lower to middle fours can fly for decent amounts of time in the netherworld, with however long they can fly being cut in half in the physical world. they make up your middle to upper elite, and their powers are about those strongest demons of legend in the physical world. their wings start developing anywhere from birth to about 5 years after their birth, with the most powerful basically being born with them. their wings develop early due to the fact that they need to stay basically proportional to the demon, and be strong enough to allow for flight. these demons are the middle ranked politicians, and own some of the largest corporations of the netherworld.

the upper 4s are the highest ranked a demon can be. they make up the top of the political scale, and they, along with some of the other 4s, basically rule the netherworld, as they hold the highest political positions, and own the largest companies. upper 4 demons can fly basically indefinitely in the netherworld, and can fly for extremely long times in the physical world. these are the 4s that are basically born with wings, as their power starts developing extremely early in order for them to be at the level they’re at. the true power of an upper 4 demon isn’t really known, and has no physical world equivalent due to them only using as much power as needed, and never more. if an upper 4 demon unleashed their full power on the physical world, it would likely cause a large amount of chaos and destruction. thankfully, a large majority of demons see the physical world as “inferior”, and breathers as nothing more than pests. the only upper level demon with any interest in the physical world is beetlejuice, and although he’s flashy, he (mostly) keeps his power in check.

in spite of all of this, all demons need a summons in order to use their power in the physical world, with the exception of the upper 4s, although using power to effect the physical world without a summons leaves them extremely exhausted, and unable to use any but the most basic of their powers until they rest to let their power regenerate.

demons can hide their wings as well, although most choose not to. those working with any sort of newlydead or breather usually hide their wing initially, as it much harder to deal with an (even more) panicked ghost/human. (this would explain why juno and beetlejuice aren’t originally known to have wings, as both were working with newlydeads and breathers at the time, giving them good cause to hide them.)

juno is also an upper 4, and although it may not seem like much, being in charge of the newlydead portion of the netherworld is a very big job, as it requires a lot of power to keep the ghosts in check, as their new ghostly powers run rampant in the netherworld, as that’s where the ghosts are strongest.

ok, so i think that’s about it for this au. i happen to really like wing aus, if y’all couldn’t tell lol. hope y’all like it though!

edit: thank you @theluckoftheclaws for bringing this to my attention. beej is a high level 4 just like juno! also, here’s some refs i made for the discord i originally made this in:

[detectivejigsawpines]

The Most Hideous Creatures Known to Man, part 1 (A three-hour tour)

Stan continues to find his calling.  Unfortunately, not everyone agrees with his methods...

Part 5 of the Flipside AU.

It was only a matter of time before Stan’s clientele in the forest (he’d set up in a glen near C-beth’s place as his unofficial barber shop) began expressing curiosity about the human world.

For all the myths and legends about the amount of time they were supposed to spend kidnapping children, seducing adults, casting spells on farmers’ crops and so on, the creatures in Gravity Falls had surprisingly little direct interaction with humans.  Even the gnomes were mostly limited to stealing food from their cupboards or window sills while they were sleeping, except when they were trying to find an offering for their queen (both of the Pineses had made it adequately clear to the little group they found sneaking into their Ford’s house one night that they were not available, thank you anyway).

Stan wasn’t sure if this ignorance was the case for anomalies all over the world or just the ones in this tiny part of it.  But as he cut their hair, cleaned and polished their scales and massaged their shoulders, they began peppering him with questions about what it was like for human people.

“How do you get anywhere without wings?”

“What’s it like not having gills?”

“Where do the magic lights in your houses come from?  Do you have a wizard who controls all of them? You have a lot of them, so he must be ever so powerful.”

“What is the significance of those strange boxes humans hold up to their ears sometimes?  They can stand and talk to them for hours-are they some kind of listening insects, since they have those long antennae attaching them to the bigger boxes?”

He answered their questions as best he could, making educated guesses (or maybe kind-of-sort-of flat-out lying) if he didn’t know the answers...but after a while he realized that it didn’t seem to matter what he told them, as long as he made it sound exciting.  The creatures ate it all up in delight, amazed at the way humans seemed to use this strange kind of magic called SCIENCE to make things happen.

And just like with the idea for how to get unicorn hair for his brother, an idea began to spark in Stan’s brain.

“So, let me get this straight,” Stan said one afternoon as he finished putting curlers in a beard cub’s fur, “None of you have actually seen a human up close besides me?”

“And that brother of yours,” C-beth whinnied, looking up from her copy of Whinny, Pray, Trot.  “And the occasional visitor to my glen, or hikers, or-”

“No no no, I mean, you’ve never seen humans in their natural habitat.”

The little group-unicorns, fairies, beard cubs, even a mermaid sitting in the nearby pool-all looked at him in sudden interest.

Stan grinned.  “What would you say if I offered to give you guys a guided tour?”

Of course, not all the creatures could afford to pay in gold and jewels, like the unicorns.  Those who couldn’t had to pay in other things, like samples: skin samples, hair samples, feather samples, tooth samples, any kind of samples they could spare.  Stan would bring them home for Ford to study, and he’d get dizzy with excitement over how he’d “been wanting to study this thing for ages, thank you Stanley!” and immediately run off to his lab to put it under a microscope or whatever.  It gave Stan a warm feeling in his gut, knowing that he’d given a valuable contribution to his brother’s research, and in the meantime he could use the treasure the unicorns gave him to handle other expenses, like the mortgage and groceries and stuff.

If it wasn’t samples, it was things like mushrooms, which he could then give to the gnomes in exchange for favors, or enchanted items, or whatever else could be used to set up an elaborate and profitable barter system.

It was like nothing Stan had ever imagined for himself, but somehow it all worked like a charm.  And now here was a perfect chance to make an addition to it.

If I tell Ford about this, he’s either gonna love it or hate it.

****

For the moment, Stan decided to keep it a secret from his brother.  At least until he got all the details worked out and stuff.

This required him first finding a map of Gravity Falls, and marking out places that seemed like the best “attractions.”  Then he had to think about how he was actually going to conduct these tours a) without any humans noticing, and b) without letting the group of nosy anomalies wander off and get into trouble, or (in some cases) cause trouble.

It took him the better part of a day to come up with a plan, which turned out to partially involve the, ahem, liberation of a very large golf cart from a nearby Santa’s Village, and a pound of jerky for the manotaurs in exchange for them tracking down the invisible wizard and bringing him to Stan so he could strike a deal with him.  To his major disappointment the wizard refused to give up the potion that turned him invisible, but he did lend Stan something that was in some ways even better: a few bottles of what he called “un-notice powder.” I hope I don’t need to explain its purpose.

Once he had these and a few other things thrown together, he was ready to take the first group on a wild tour of...the Human World!

“And on your left, you’ll see ‘Greasy’s Diner,’ home of the perpetually broken spinning pie trolley!”

“Oooohhhh!”  The various anomalies leaned so far to the side of the cart that Stan was worried they were going to tip them all over, staring goggle-eyed at the restaurant.  To prevent this, Stan hurriedly put the cart in park, and then, remembering what the gnomes were like, he slipped the keys into his jeans pocket.

“Twenty-I mean, two hundred gold pieces or the equivalent in samples to come in and get your picture taken with it!” he proclaimed, rushing over to the door and pushing it open.  He promptly had to jump out of the way to avoid being stampeded by the eager crowd.

Inside the diner, the guests looked up in bewilderment at the door, which appeared to have been pushed open by a sudden freak wind.  Susan Wentworth, the head waitress who worked there (and who was kinda cute, Stan had to admit), rushed over to close it, and Stan barely moved out of her way in time.

The tour group (ten gnomes, thirteen fairies of various sizes and colors, a Moth Man, the invisible wizard-who’d insisted on coming at a reduced price as recompense for his being manhandled and bullied so rudely, and Stan had decided not to argue with a man who could turn him into a frog if he got mad enough-a manotaur, and the mermaid, who the manotaur was carrying in a portable cooler filled with water) stared agape at the inside of the room, before hurrying over and taking turns being photographed in front of the pie trolley.  They also had fun prodding at the humans, swiping bites of food from their plates, and taking pictures of them pretending to squeeze their heads or whatever.

Stan watched the chaos with a smile, and took the opportunity to eat some blueberries off the top of a plate of pancakes belonging to that dumb Gleeful kid.

****

Their next stops were the town hall, the cemetery (where a few Category 2 ghosts tried to sneak on without paying, but were scared off by the silver mirrors Stan had strategically placed on the cart), the library, and the high school, before finally they stopped in front of an electronics store.

“Behold!”  Stan leaped out onto the sidewalk, arms spread wide.  The dramatic gesture was nearly ruined by a few teenagers who nearly walked right into him (because of course, they didn’t notice him), but he managed to dodge out of their path just in time.  “Ladies and gentlemen-I guess that includes most of you-”

The tour group laughed.

“-For today’s final attraction, I give you the most horrifying, dangerous, yet incredibly enticing invention of mankind yet: the Idiot Box!”  He gestured at the display of televisions in the front window, which were plugged in to different channels about news, sports, movies, and so on.

The anomalies gasped, staring at the images darting across the screens in transfixed amazement.  He could practically see their eyes turning into hypnotized spirals like in the movies.

“These fiendish devices control the minds of millions every day, encouraging them to buy things they don’t need, eat foods that aren’t good for them, and become emotionally invested in the lives of fictional characters who they are never gonna meet in real life!”  Stan had no idea where most of his words were coming from, but he was on a roll now, and there was no stopping him. “And all it takes is a little bit of electricity and a good channel-”

“I WANT ONE!”

Stan blinked, startled out of his spiel by the manotaur’s roar.

The beast abruptly hurled himself out of the cart and charged-right.  Through. The window. He smashed several of the televisions in his excitement, but he managed to snatch one up intact, ripping the plug out of the socket and hoisting it over his head triumphantly.

Not even un-notice powder was enough to prevent the people inside the store from noticing the wanton destruction.

Time to go.

****

Fortunately, Stan managed to herd everyone (several of the other creatures had rushed into the store to snatch devices for themselves in all the excitement) back into the cart and take off before the cops showed up.  Even better, the un-notice powder didn’t completely wear off until they were back in the forest, so even if the townsfolk noticed them fleeing the scene, it wouldn’t have been anything too distinct. Probably.

Stan gladly accepted a few extra tips from the happy group as they left the carts, hurrying off into the forest and chattering excitedly to each other about all the things they’d seen.

“See ya later, everyone!  Tell your friends! And remember, we put the ‘fun’ in ‘no refunds!’”

Huh; I like the sound of that.  Gonna haveta remember it for next time.

Grinning to himself, Stan finished putting everything in the large treasure chest he’d brought to collect everyone’s payments, locked it, and then drove back towards home, feeling that on the whole this had been a pretty good day.

It was just his luck, however, that Ford would be standing in the driveway as he came up, hands on his hips and wearing his “there had better be an amazing explanation for this” expression.

The cart came to a slow stop, and Stan gave his brother a weak smile.

“...Hey, Sixer.  I got you more samples.”

[charlesxavirs]

puppy love / cherik

charles has never had a dog. erik can’t believe it.  ( read on ao3 )

There aren’t many thing that surprise Erik Lehnsherr anymore when it comes to Charles.

Him taking honey in his tea instead of sugar didn’t come as any major shock, and you only had to take one look at his perpetually ruffled hair to know that the man was a restless sleeper. One by one, as Charles’s quirks were revealed to him, Erik catalogued and cherished every one, even his more questionable ones (the great sock-sock-shoe-shoe, sock-shoe-sock-shoe debate will forever go down in history as one of their most heated). Yet no matter how outlandish or seemingly random these facets of Charles’s personality were, not one of them took Erik by surprise. Endearing, yes. Frustrating, sometimes. But surprising? Never.

That’s why Erik has absolutely no idea how to feel at being completely gobsmacked at the latest revelation.

“What do you mean you don’t like dogs?” Erik gaped from his seat at the kitchen counter whilst Charles huffed at him, holding the teaspoon that stirred his morning tea with a grip that made Erik wince.

“It’s not that I don’t like them,” he sighed. “It’s just that I’m unfamiliar with them, and I’m found at a bit of a loss around them. It’s not like we had anything of the sort growing up.”

At the edge of Erik’s mind, the usual warm presence turned a little colder, as it usually did when Charles’s childhood became the subject of the conversation. The fact that Charles had grown up without a dog had shocked Erik. He could see Brian Xavier now in an old study, a golden retriever sat steadfastly by his feet, or could easily imagine Sharon sporting a pompous puff of a poodle just to stay in fashion. Heck, he wouldn’t have been surprised if Kurt had a couple of bloodhounds round the place just to make him look like the epitome of the intimidating blueblood he paraded around as.

Then again, Erik thought it must have been for the best. Erik knows his Charles, and his Charles is far too loving for his own good, and anything Charles loved, Kurt found a way to use against him, and no animal on the planet deserved to be held to ransom by Kurt Marko.

Projecting a steady stream of love and contentment, Erik maneuvered himself so he was stood behind Charles, his arms clasped soundly around his waist and his nose buried in his chestnut locks. As the presence in his mind slowly melted back to it’s usual sunbeam warmth, Erik perched his chin on Charles’s shoulder and breathed in his heady scent of Earl Grey and sleep.

“You know, liebling, that actually makes some sense.” Erik mumbled, pressing a kiss to Charles’s brow, and he could feel it’s resulting quirk under his lips.

The warmth in his mind flared as Charles’s lips quirked and he span in Erik’s arms to face him, curling his arms around Erik’s neck. “Oh? And why’s that?”

Erik grinned. “I know how you hate competing to be the most adorable thing in the room.” It was well worth the slap to the chest. Perhaps it wasn’t worth Charles turning away from him in a huff.

“Oh come on, Schatz,” Erik sighed, trying to get Charles to uncross his arms and turn back round to face him, and Erik would’ve thought Charles was really upset at him if it wasn’t for the constant wave of lovelovelove he was projecting. Really, Charles was very talented at sulking. “I’m just being honest.”

Slowly but surely, Charles turned around, looking up at Erik with those big bright eyes, his rosy bottom lip caught between the cage of his front teeth.

“Do you really think i’m adorable?” he asked, his head tipped down to focus on his fingers, which were absently playing with the string of Erik’s pyjama pants.

Taking Charles’s chin between his forefinger and thumb, he tilted his face up towards his, and placed a small peck on the corner of his mouth. “Extremely.”

Charles grinned that grin that made something airy and achy flutter wildly in his chest. It lit up his whole face, even despite the hair falling in his eyes and the last remnants of a red mark from his pillow ghosting over his cheek. That look could simultaneously undo Erik and put him right back together again. That look could absolutely make Erik fall to Charles’s every whim, and the thing was, Erik would happily do so every time. He hoped Charles never stopped looking like this, no matter how old they grew, no matter how much changed between them: cheeky, bright, and in love.

A pair of arms resumed their rightful place around Erik’s neck as Charles stood on his tip toes to look Erik (almost) in the eye. “Make me breakfast?”

Tucking that unruly hair behind his ear, Erik chuckled at Charles’s brazen exploitation of his, quite frankly, frighteningly honest devotion to the younger man. “Anything for you.”

Charles’s resulting smile proved Erik right. Charles would’ve won the hypothetical competition. Hands down.

It had been three whole weeks since their conversation and Erik couldn’t get it off his mind. How could Charles have never had a dog? Surely every child wanted a dog, though Erik supposed that wanting and having were two completely different things.

Erik always had dogs. He can’t remember a time when he didn’t. The big dogs were always his father’s. There was Sammy the Doberman, and then there was Käse (named by three year old Erik), the German Shepherd. Jakob loved his dogs and cared for them greatly, and Erik still has fond memories of his father’s large hands petting each dog on the head as he came in from work, without fail.

Edie always had a pup following her around, too. Generally, they were smaller, and tended to be lap dogs that would run around her feet and yap at anyone that dared to get close. After his father died and Erik moved out, he took some comfort knowing that Edie had a pint sized guard dog to look after her while he wasn’t around, even if it did bite at his fingers and bark incessantly at the back door when he tried to sneak a smoke.

Technically, Käse was Erik’s dog. Erik was only young when they got him as a puppy, and as such, they grew up together. He followed Erik around everywhere, and seemed to have a special gift of knowing when Erik was fed up, and would curl up at the end of his bed and nose at his leg until Erik caved and gave him attention. According to his mother, it wasn’t unusual to find him sprawled out asleep on the couch with Käse lying on top of him, acting as some form of blanket. It wasn’t exactly hard, either, considering the dog almost grew to be the same size as Erik.

His heart ached for Charles then. His dog was one of the greatest friends he ever knew, as sad as he thought it sounded. It was a constant in a life full of inconstants. No matter what happened in Erik’s life, he could guarantee that at the end of the day, there would be a mountain of a dog scratching at his bedroom door for walkies.

Charles had Raven, though, and he tried to comfort himself with the thought that Charles perhaps wasn’t completely alone in that big, cold house. Yet, he knew the troubles he and Raven had in regards to his telepathy, and a small part of Erik wanted to grieve for the young boy who could never fully be himself around his own family.

He expressed all this to his mother one Sunday afternoon. Usually, Charles would be with him (Edie adored Charles, and Erik suspected that she adored him more than Erik at times) but midterms wouldn’t mark themselves, so it gave Erik and his mother an ample opportunity to talk about the telepath.

“I just feel like he’s missed out, mama.” Erik sighed, swishing the dregs of his coffee around in his cup, drumming the fingers of his free hand on the table.

That hand was quickly covered by Edie’s, forcing Erik to look up to his mother’s kind smile and lined face. “Who says he still can’t have it?”

It took him a week for him to organise everything, but he finally did it. It was easy enough to hide the supplies he’d bought for the dog, considering Charles loathed to step foot in his office (“Honestly, Erik, must you decorate using only magenta?”), and actually going about adopting the dog without Charles knowing had been particularly smooth sailing. The hard parts really had been trying not to think about it, lest he accidentally broadcast his plans, and actually choosing the dog to bring home, but he was happy with his decision.

So, that Friday, Erik took a detour on his way home from work to pick up the puppy from the shelter, and once the paperwork was all sorted, he was driving back home with the dog safely in the carrier in the passenger seat, and Erik tried not to speed home.

As soon as he opened the front door, he felt Charles’s brilliant mind greet him, and he pushed his acknowledgement back at him, sending him the equivalent of a mental kiss.

“Charles?” he called out, toeing off his shoes whilst holding the dog in his arms.

“In here, darling.”

Erik peeped his head around the door, finding Charles capping the lid on his pen and smiling up at you.

“I have a surprise for you.” He blurted before Charles could speak, and he could feel Charles’s curiosity spark in his head.

Opening the door fully, Erik stepped inside and strode over to the desk, the tiny Corgi held safely in his arms. Hearing Charles gasp, Erik settled on his knees in front of his chair, kneeling up at full height to hold the puppy up to Charles.

Charles’s face was unreadable, yet Erik took the careful pat he gave to the puppy’s head as a positive sign.

That hand, however, was quickly withdrawn to his lap, and a sigh was huffed out of his nostrils. “Erik-”

“Before you say anything,” Erik interrupted, “what you said about never having a dog got to me. My dog was my best friend in the world before- well, before I met you, I suppose.”

Charles flushed, but let Erik continue.

“He was my best friend, and he was mine. You never forget your first pet, no matter if you have them at twelve or twenty seven. Everyone should have that, if they can, and I want you to have that.”

Tears turned Charles’s blue eyes glassy, and Erik still wasn’t sure if this was such a good idea, whether he had had just reminded Charles how lonely of a child he was.

He quickly got his answer, though, as Charles turned his eyes towards the puppy, and then to Erik.

“Can I hold him?” He asked tentatively, his voice just above a whisper.

Erik’s soft smile couldn’t be helped. “He’s yours, schatz. Of course you can hold him.”

After some careful rearranging, Erik gently passed the puppy into Charles arms. His heart swelled, and he tried to commit the sight to memory; Charles’s soft coos and murmurs, the sheer wonderment in his eyes, his gleeful giggle as the dog liked at his chin and his cheeks. If Charles shed a tear, Erik wouldn’t dare say anything, and if Erik accidentally projected his feelings of sheer adoration for their newfound family of three, Charles wouldn’t mention it either.

Later, when they were tangled tightly together on the sofa, the small pup falling asleep on Charles’s chest under the gentle attention of his soft strokes, the low tones of Attenborough filling the content silence between them, Erik asked: “What are you going to name him?”

Charles hummed, biting the inside of his cheek in thought as his eyes flitted about for inspiration. They landed, eventually, of a picture Charles had taken of Erik whilst they were in college, when Erik was at the prime of his mutant rights activism, and a sly grin overtook Charles’s face as he looked up at his boyfriend.

“Magneto.”

Erik groaned, burying his face in Charles’s hair as he chuckled underneath him.

“Menace.” He whispered into the curls, chasing his words with a kiss as Charles settled further against him, and the serene hush settled over them once more.

“Erik?” Charles piped up after a few minutes.

“Yes?”

“I’m still more adorable, right?”

With fondness flooding his stomach, Erik sent Charles the image of himself: drowning in one of Erik’s jumpers, lips reddened from being scalded on too hot tea, face flushed from their combined body heat.

“Every time, libes. Every time.”

[incongruous-writer]

Dinner and a Talk

The first week on board the Eclector, Peter basically hid in the vent system, snuck out to the mess hall for food once everyone was gone and it was quiet, and continuously ignored the shouted demands of the captain to “Get his scrawny Terran ass outa the vent, so help me”

Unfortunately his vent adventures came to a rather abrupt end. He supposes he might have become a little predictable.

The hinges on the cover squeaked quietly when he opened them, and the coast looked clear. The vent was stationed into the wall, right above a counter in the mess hall which was convenient for the short boy. The kitchen or galley was through a door on the other side of the mess.

With a practiced ease he lowered himself to the counter and then hopped off, running quickly for the door on the other side. Right before he was about to enter, the door opened and Kraglin, who Peter now knew to be the First Mate on the ship, walked out.

“Figured you’d get hungry soon enough, an come in here sneakin’ in like a rat.” The first mate muttered rather annoyed sounding.

Quill wasted no time in sprinting back to the vent opening. He stopped short when he realized that the captain was leaning against the counter, effectively blocking that escape route. Not giving it two seconds of thoughts he ran in a different direction, hoping to out run the larger and slower adults.

If he could make it out to the hall there was another vent that he could probably reach, and once again escape his abductees.

The sound of lazy whistling killed his plan, or the concept of a plan, that he had had. Quill had seen enough of the ship and the crew, while safely hidden inside the vents, to know that the captains arrow was quick and always on point. The two adults he might have been able to outrun, but there was no outrunning the arrow.

Facing the captain he was unsurprised to find the Yaka Arrow making curling loops and flips in the air around Yondu’s head.

The captain looked him up and down and gave him a ragged, silvered tooth smirk. He reminded Peter of a shark.

“ Kraglin, back ta your duties.” Yondu stated bluntly. “What should I do with the brat, sir?"Kraglin questioned hesitantly.

"You ain’t doing nothin’ with him. Already seen how well havin’ you watch him goes. Can’t even control a little pup, pathetic.” Kraglin turned a little red at that comment, either from embarrassment or anger, Peter couldn’t tell, and gave a curt ‘sir’ before taking his leave.

“You ain’t gonna give me no trouble now, are yea?” The blue man asked, arrow still floating around him.

“No sir.” The boys quiet reply came, eyes still glued to the weapon, waiting.

“That’s what I thought.” With a shove Yondu pushed himself off the counter and started walking toward the galley. “Come on then.”

Peter thought quickly about making a run for it, but decided against it, he’d seen that arrow go faster than anything, and started to follow the captain, making sure to keep a good space between them.

He was scared. His legs were shaking and he drew in air faster than he could get it out, but the boy didn’t cry and Quill considered that victory.

The inside of the galley had what looked like a stove and an oven, with some shelves filled with different things, some in cans and some not. A giant door to the far right held a freezer of some sort and that was about it.

The Captain was busy looking through some things on the shelf pulling this and that off. Turning around he handed the stuff to Peter with a quick 'stay put’ before going back to the shelf.

While wondering what Yondu could be doing, a memory came back from a week ago, where the captain had threatened to make him into an appetizer for his crew. Fear seized his heart cold and unforgiving as he shook, he took a few steps back before hitting the wall.

“I’m sorry I ran away!” He cried out to Yondu, fat tears spilling down his face, and small hiccups escaping. “ I won’t do it again, sir! Please don’t cook me. I don’t want to be an appetizer!” He wailed.

Yondu had turned around and was staring at the kid, confused as to why he was crying and what had started it. It wasn’t until the last part that comprehension dawned on the centurian, and looking around he could understand why the kid was thinking Yondu planned to eat him.

He wanted to laugh at the boy for so easily believing him, but that would give the wrong impression and Yondu couldn’t have that. Instead the captain pretended to consider the boys words before replying. “ I suppose I could find something else to eat but why should I do that, you don’t have any other use so far, all yea do is cry and hide, and I have no use for whiners on my ship.”

Scared as the kid was Yondu could still see his tiny mind trying to come up with rebuttal, with a reason why he shouldn’t be eaten, it was almost endearing. Almost.

“because I’m small and tiny and I don’t have any meat on my bones, sir.”

Well, he’s not wrong on that account. The boy was small, small enough to fit the in the vents and hide there for a week, also smart enough to know where and when to come out for food. He had the makings of a decent thief. Hell, thought Yondu, he could probably come in handy on some jobs.

Giving a hearty laugh that had poor Peter jumping outa his skin, the captain answered him. “That you are, boy, that you are. If you can prove to be useful, maybe I won’t make you into a roast.”

“I can be useful, I’ll prove it. Just wait.” Peter’s shaking had died off a considerable amount and a spark had gone off in his eyes.

“Well, in that case looks like I need to make something else for supper than.” With that Yondu went back to what he had been doing all along, which was just making himself and the kid something to eat.

Once the centurian had all of his ingredients he started making himself something similar to an omelette, except it was green, with purplish spots on it.

once that was done The pair returned to the mess hall and sat down at one of the tables.

As soon as the food was placed in front of the Terran he dug in like a wild animal, basically inhaling the thing.

Yondu just watched him from where he sat, his mind wandering to other things.

Peter didn’t look much like his siblings, the ones Yondu had delivered before him, but that wasn’t to surprising seeing how they were all different species and such. Thinking of the other children that he had transported brought a frown to his face. Every kid that got picked up got a translator, but those devices also had other applications, like a tracking system and a biological scanner. That way Yondu could keep an eye on em’ while in his ship and monitor there vitals to boot.

The captain had forgotten about those extra measures once the kids were off his ship. That is until Peter up and disappeared and he logged on to find out where the runt went, only to notice that all of his other siblings trackers reported back the same thing, that there hosts where deceased. Ravagers don’t feel things like guilt, cause that’s sentiment, and sentiment is a death wish in this life; but that doesn’t mean the captain didn’t feel his equivalent of it. He had brought those kids to their death, he knew it. So now he had to make up for it, and if that meant depositing this brat on some Nova Corps world so he could get picked up and join with the other hundred thousand refugee orphans, then so be it. At least he’ll be alive and Peter’s father won’t know where to find him. Good thing that bastard payed in advance.

That was the plan anyway.

A quiet 'thank you’ broke the Centurian out of his thoughts. Looking over he saw that Quill had finished his food and was staring a hole at the table.

“So you got manners, that’s nice to know. Maybe you got a brain in there after all.” Came the Ravager’s reply, all gruff and sneering.

Quill looked up at that remark, his glare now focused on the man in front of him. “I do have a brain. I’m not stupid.”

“Coulda have fooled me, you couldn’t even listen when Kraglin told yea to stay put, even animals know that command kid.” Yondu threw back at him. Peter’s lips twitched like he was fighting a smile, curious as to what the kid could find amusing, the captain barked out “ Whats so funny to yea, that your dumb as bricks?”

“He said 'stay put’ so I stayed put, on the ship.” The ghost of a grin was gone from the Terran’s face, but his eyes had a glint of mischief to em’.

So he was a sarcastic one wasn’t he, the ravaged thought, that’s gonna have to be fixed.“You think your clever, huh?” And leaning across the table Yondu cuffed him on his ear, not too hard but enough to hurt.

******************

After the meal Yondu and Peter had walked Down to the crews quarter where Peter was assigned a bunk, and told to get some sleep. Tomorrow would start his first proper sagas a Ravager.

[toomanyskeletons]

do all the oc asks ALL of them for AT LEAST two of your ocs (evil laughter)

“evil”

you act as if talking extensively about my ocs does not bring me joy (i’ll only do two probably bc i do have some asks from other people so i’ll have to do those with other ocs, and i’ll try to stick to the same two for the most part.

or three. maybe three.)

anyway let’s begin

1. if they had a tumblr, what would they post about?

Sam: hmm i think probably some blog like. Mostly trans positivity posts with scattered posts abt how much she loves her gf

Amelia: considering her popularity status she’d run some blog like. U kno the blogs tumblr celebrities run i guess? So like. Reblogging a few general funny posts and answering select asks while getting like 200 every day.

 2. what’s their favourite colour?

 Sam: she likes blue :o like. Light blues. Also she keeps her hair dyed light blue as well

Amelia: purple. Honestly idk much more i can say about this.

 3. What makes them laugh?

 Sam: shitty puns and memes, mostly. The type of person who laughs out loud when u just say ‘egg’. She’s probably still into ‘xD tacos’ random humour.

Amelia: the polar opposite of sam in this regard. Laughs at intellectual humor. Like. rich fancy people. I know it exists but i cant think of any specific examples. Politely laughs at things people say are funny but she does not find them actually funny.

 4. If they had one day left to live, how would they spend it?

 Sam: “lmao dw i’ll probably just go to hell anyway” wait no context is important. She’s like. Actually how do i make this not sound bad rip. Uh. basically she is a business partner of lucifer who is actually p chill but that’s another story

Anyway that means like. If she dies she’ll probably just come back as a ghost or a higher tier demon.

O fuk now i really wanna draw that

Amelia: panicking and trying to find a way to not die. She had things she wants to do and a public record to maintain and jeez  i just realised how much ames has changed compared the the first universe she was in. i mean YEAH completely different life experiences but rip

 5. Do they have any annoying habits?

 -this is really subjective bc of what different people consider annoying but

Sam: people say she laughs too much. That is not her annoying habit is, her annoying habit is tellling lucifer when people say that so lucifer can like. Ban them from reincarnation or put a curse on them or something like that. Also sometimes when she cant be bothered to go that extra step she might go into the past and become that person’s grandmother.

...that second one isnt really an annoying habit to most people but to the one guy who has to help keep control of time, it is a very annoying habit and what makes up like half of his job doings.

 Amelia: sometimes goes very over the top with things. One time she stole a magic book by becoming a security guard at the place where it was kept and then took the book and ran. So like, instead of doing things illegally, she did it also illegally and got a month’s pay from it as well.

I guess she’s like. Extra™

 6. What’s their favourite movie genre?

I s2fg i have mentioned this sometime in one of the long texts i have written involving these characters but i cant remember so

Sam: tbh probably more realistic/contemporary stuff, rom-coms, slice of life, coming of age etc. Like. her life is a science fiction/fantasy movie she’s a time traveler working with the dark lord lucifer ffs. Also she’d probably get annoyed on tiny details while watching historical stuff like

“That never happened”

“Sam it’s fiction, it’s a movie, how would they have known that”

“Well maybe they didn’t know it but it’s still fucking annoying”

 Amelia: probably similar to sam, her life is fuckin busy and always people and she’s famous so like. Escape from her life is to indulge in the normal things.

 Just as a side note this does take place in a modern-ish fantasy world so idk what fantasy movies would be considered there but. They exist. I’ll work this out sooner or later

 Also bonus character bc its fucking funny - Zeph: zephyr likes horror movies. She also likes to watch horror movies with her brother. Her brother does not share her same passion for horror movies. He has a certain threshold before he has to flee the room and cuddle someone. This is mostly why zeph likes horror movies. She is pretty picky with what she considers ‘good’ and spends most of her time making fun of horror movies.

And, like the rest of us, secretly freaks out when she is alone at night and hears a sound outside. But for significantly less long because she knows exactly how to make fun of it.

 7. What are their religious beliefs?

 Alright i might not (read: will not currently) answer this bc i’m still working out how to handle religion in this, bc basically there is historical evidence for how the world was created. But obviously that’s not the only component to religion?

Another point would be that actually i still havent got around to creating any religions yet.i still gotta get around to getting down a more detailed history of the world first but i am planning it

 8. What’s their current job (if they have one)?

Yes BITCH i have been WAITIGN for a question like this

 Sam: basically she made a deal with lucifer and runs many errands for them. But also they helped her a LOT when they helped her escape a shitty transphobic environment and also the two became best friends? So i mean she doesn’t get paid but that takes up a lot of her time

Also she, at one stage, becomes part of this thing called the council which i haven’t quite worked out how they work in this universe yet. Theyre a bunch of strong magic people who work in coordination with the Champion (more on this below) to put down rules about magic. Theyre a reused concept from this story i made when i was like. 10. So the idea does need some reworking.

 Amelia: amelia is the champion, which is basically the title given to the person who wins at a big magic competition. Its a p big job, lots of publicity and pr and often regretted by the people who do end up getting there

(like? This one guy? He was kinda like “oh yeah sounds fun” and then he fucking won and he was like “lmao i’ll lose next year” and then he kept the position for 7 years and after that got so fucking sick of it he faked his assassination and became a reclusive mysterious millionaire)

Anyway she enjoys it for the first while until there is a real threat of her being assassinated unlike the aforementioned dude

But she enjoys being around people to an extent, and like. She enjoys making people happy, so

 9. How do they react to confrontation?

 Sam: similar way to what i described before. Like. jsut the little things. Cursing them with the help of lucifer, becoming their grandmother, you know. The usual ways people deal with confrontation.

Amelia: curiosity, further questioning, keeping calm, kinda just. Being chill about it. She wants to make herself a better person, in general, and if someone is deliberately being a confrontational asshole she prefers to just state her point calmly.

 10. Do they have a criminal record?

 Sam: you know? Probably? She kills a bunch of assholes where it’s required, but also she legally doesn’t exist? So? Idk? She’s been arrested a few times, but considering there is no information on her existence at all-

*shrugs* idfk how the law works.

 Amelia: well, technically, no, she only did illegal things last universe and had a pretty fancy upbringing this universe, so there was no reason for her to do the illegals and also like. Public image and stuff. She worries a lot about public image.

 11. What’s their favourite plant?

 Another thing which i feel i have mentioned somewhere but idfk where

 Sam: likes hydrangeas. They’re pretty.

Amelia: can i just say. It is definitely not catnip. Actually. Maybe? Like. she had some pretty fuckin negative experiences with catnip where she destroyed reality for like a solid five seconds by accident and went to purgatory, but also she made two life friends out of it, so? Maybe catnip after all.

 12. Can they play any instruments?

 Sam: “does the kazoo count”

Amelia: nope

 But because this was boring, i’m going to do a special guest feature from her half brother ryan who is a semi-popular youtube vlogger/musician-y dude. or . whatever this world’s equivalent of youtube is. Uh. metube. Yotube. I’ll think about it.

 Ryan: he plays the guitar and sings and he’s damn fucking good at it and he knows it. Also he shares the same combination of forgetting how to outlet his anger in healthy ways + poor impulse control which means that about once every six months he has to buy a new guitar because he couldn’t get that song right and he hit the guitar against the floor.

(his dad is a writer and also an archangel,and one time he couldn’t work out how to start off a scene right so he exploded his laptop and had to use a typewriter for the four weeks while his other archangel buddy was fixing it - i’m getting off topic here)

 13. What are they proudest of?

 Sam: i guess just. Her life in general? Like. she’s survived up to this point, she’s doin shit, maybe not the shit she expected to be doing or the shit she imagined she’d be doing but she’s still doin it. Like. fuck you life. I survived. And she’s proud of that.

Amelia: that one time when she managed to keep her champion title the first time? And also when she made friends with the guy who she thought was a girl and also dead who turned out to be not a girl and alive and also was the champion for seven years rememebr that guy yeah that’s this guy. Anyway she made friends with him after settling some differences. And also when she stopped a whole organisation from murdering her yeah that was good too.

 14. What’s their biggest insecurity?

 Sam: okay this is Definitely Not Me Projecting here (hint: it’s me projecting) but she hates being seen as masculine at all and is very insecure when people refer to her or see her as masculine? Like if u call her butch She Will Cry and also why would you do that bc her and her girlfriend are femme as heck

Amelia: public image public image public image public image

Like. she doesn’t want to look bad, or like a bad public leader, but also, she just wants to do her own thing, u kno?

 15. What do they most often dream about?

Like. literally dream or daydream?

 Sam: probably. Mostly happy stuff. Plus random occasional vivid recollections of tramatic experiences.

Amelia: honestly who the fuck knows (i’d answer this properly but I am Almost Out O f Time)

 So yes almost out of time but thank you so much and doing this has inspired me to just completely rework my first book to make it more interesting

I know that sounds bad btu its not i promise i love oyu

(also there was a bunch of different formatting like italcs etc that was lost when icopied from here to docs sorry)

[unfortunatelyphoenix]

Ok, I had a thought so here I go with it.

It eventually gets mostly around the magic community that all of Pariah Dark's old summoning things now just summon his teenaged son at this point so its better to stop, and the random summonings become extremely rare. At some point during the Summer Danny mentions he's going to hang out with his friends so Pariah doesn't pay attention and doesn't notice as his son gets randomly summoned again.

The group that summoned him this time is the League of Assassins, if they know about the switch up is up to you, but Ra's is convinced that he can somehow control the Ghost King/Prince and get immortality from it. Danny obviously refuses and a fight ensures, leading Danny to getting really hurt and use his ghostly wail, and while using it just sounds like random screeching in ghost language this time it sounds like Danny screaming for his dad while terrified and in extreme pain, and Pariah hears it.

Tiny baby ghost

idea from Prompt for @silverblueglitter

The summoning circle glowed an eerie green, casting sharp shadows around the Justice League's meeting chamber. John Constantine, sleeves rolled up and cigarette dangling from his lips, muttered the last words of the incantation. The room held a tense silence, broken only by the faint hum of the magical energy.

When the green smoke cleared, instead of the imposing figure of the Ghost King they’d expected, a scrawny teenager in a black jumpsuit with white gloves and boots appeared, looking distinctly unimpressed.

“Seriously?!” Danny Phantom groaned, throwing up his hands. “It’s a school night!”

The room collectively blinked. Superman and Wonder Woman exchanged confused glances. Batman’s eyes narrowed behind his cowl, while the Batkids—perched around the room like chaotic gargoyles—leaned forward, intrigued.

“This… is the Ghost King?” Nightwing asked, his voice skeptical but amused.

“Ghost King?” Danny repeated, holding up a hand. “Nope. Wrong guy. Try again.”

“Clearly, this is a child,” Robin said flatly, stepping forward with his arms crossed. “Either the summoning ritual failed, or we’ve been deceived.”

“Who are you calling a child, mini-Nightmare?” Danny shot back, floating an inch off the ground to look taller. “I’m fifteen. How old are you, eight?”

“I am fourteen, you insufferable spirit,” Robin snapped, glaring daggers at him. “And you are woefully unqualified to speak to me in such a tone.”

Danny rolled his eyes. “Yeah, okay, Robin Junior. Let me know when you grow a sense of humor.”

Red Hood, perched casually on a table nearby, barked out a laugh. “I like this kid already.”

Robin scowled. “You would.”

Red Hood swung his legs off the table, standing to his full height. “Alright, Casper, if you’re not the Ghost King, why’d this ritual grab you instead?”

“That’s a great question! Wish I knew!” Danny said, throwing up his hands.

Constantine frowned, stepping closer. “You’re definitely ghostly, mate, and half-alive by the looks of you.” His sharp gaze softened just slightly. “You’re a bloody halfa.”

Danny froze, eyes darting to the swirling green barrier still holding him in the circle (not really). “I’m a ghost. And yeah, I’m alive. What’s it to you?”

Batman loomed closer, his deep voice cutting through the room. “If you’re not the Ghost King, why does this summoning work?”

“Great question! Wish I knew!” Danny threw up his arms again, his ectoplasm glowing faintly in frustration. “I don’t even know who you are, and you’ve already ruined my night! or Maybe the universe hates me. That’d explain a lot!”

“Who even made this circle?” Red Hood asked, pointing at Constantine. “Did you check it? It’s glowing green. That’s ghost vibes, man.”

“Thanks for the observation, Red Hood,” Constantine said dryly. “What gave it away, the ectoplasm or the ghost?”

“You are in no position to demand answers,” Batman growled.

“Oh my god, you’re worse than my parents,” Danny muttered.

Before Batman could respond, the air grew colder. A heavy, oppressive presence filled the room as green flames erupted in the middle of the chamber. From the flames stepped Pariah Dark, fully armored and radiating raw power, his glowing eyes zeroing in on Danny.

The League tensed, weapons at the ready, but Pariah didn’t even look at them. Instead, his expression softened in a way that could only be described as paternal as he reached out and plucked Danny out of the circle like a child grabbing a stuffed animal.

“Who dares summon my child?” Pariah rumbled, his deep voice shaking the room. He cradled Danny in one massive hand as though he were the most precious treasure in existence. Danny, for his part, just sighed and leaned against one of Pariah’s fingers.

“Dad, chill. They’re not trying to hurt me—” Danny shot a glare at Batman, “—yet.”

“‘Dad’?” Robin echoed, utterly baffled.

“They stressed him out,” Pariah continued as if Danny hadn’t spoken. “This is the third time in two weeks. Do you know how much sleep he’s lost? He has school!”

Pariah’s gaze darkened. “The third summoning this week,” he growled. “And for what? To disrupt his rest? His studies?”

“Studies?” Robin repeated incredulously. “This alleged ‘Ghost Prince’ is concerned with—”

“School,” Red Hood supplied helpfully, smirking. “That tracks. He’s just a kid.”

“I’M NOT JUST A KID!” Danny protested, his voice cracking slightly. Jason snorted.

Before anyone else could respond, Fright Knight materialized beside Pariah, his armor gleaming and his sword crackling with ghostly energy. He took one look at the summoning circle and grimaced.

“Shall I eliminate the offenders, my liege?” he asked Pariah, his grip tightening on his sword.

“No!” Danny yelped, waving his hands frantically. “No eliminating, no smiting! We talked about this, remember?”

Pariah sighed, his massive shoulders slumping. “They stressed you out,” he rumbled. “They should pay.”

“They’ll be fine,” Danny muttered. “Just… let me handle it, okay?”

“‘Fine,’ he says,” Red Hood muttered. “We’re seconds away from getting blasted into the afterlife.”

Robin's hand drifted toward his sword, his eyes darting between Pariah and Fright Knight. “This is absurd. We are the Justice League. Surely, we are not so easily—”

“Shut it, kid,” Consttantine interrupted. “Unless you want to test if we’re actually ‘fine.’”

Danny groaned. “Can we not do this right now?”

Wonder Woman stepped forward, her voice calm but firm. “We summoned you because we need the Ghost King’s aid to stop a catastrophic magical event threatening the world.”

“Then why not summon him?” Danny snapped. “I’m not the king!”

“Yet the ritual brought you,” Batman said, his voice a mix of curiosity and accusation.

Pariah’s gaze darkened. “The crown does not transfer unless challenged. And none shall dare challenge my son.”

Danny squirmed in his ghost-dad’s grip. “Okay, Dad, they get it. Can you not threaten to destroy the world for five minutes?”

Pariah huffed but gently set Danny down, though he remained close, a looming shadow of protective menace.

Constantine rubbed his temples, muttering something about “bloody teenagers” and “overprotective ghost tyrants.” Meanwhile, the Batkids exchanged glances, clearly plotting something.

Danny sighed. “Look, I’ll help you guys with your big, scary magical problem, but can we make it quick? I have a chem test tomorrow.”

[justwannabecat]

JL member (probably Green Arrow/Lantern Hal): *stage whispering* So, when he says his Mom is the God of Time-

Constantine: Ah, he actually simplified it. They’re more like the concept of Time.

JL member: So when he says one of his titles is Master of Space-

Constantine: He’s not Space yet, but that’ll probably change within a few hundred years.

Tiny baby ghost

idea from Prompt for @silverblueglitter

The summoning circle glowed an eerie green, casting sharp shadows around the Justice League's meeting chamber. John Constantine, sleeves rolled up and cigarette dangling from his lips, muttered the last words of the incantation. The room held a tense silence, broken only by the faint hum of the magical energy.

When the green smoke cleared, instead of the imposing figure of the Ghost King they’d expected, a scrawny teenager in a black jumpsuit with white gloves and boots appeared, looking distinctly unimpressed.

“Seriously?!” Danny Phantom groaned, throwing up his hands. “It’s a school night!”

The room collectively blinked. Superman and Wonder Woman exchanged confused glances. Batman’s eyes narrowed behind his cowl, while the Batkids—perched around the room like chaotic gargoyles—leaned forward, intrigued.

“This… is the Ghost King?” Nightwing asked, his voice skeptical but amused.

“Ghost King?” Danny repeated, holding up a hand. “Nope. Wrong guy. Try again.”

“Clearly, this is a child,” Robin said flatly, stepping forward with his arms crossed. “Either the summoning ritual failed, or we’ve been deceived.”

“Who are you calling a child, mini-Nightmare?” Danny shot back, floating an inch off the ground to look taller. “I’m fifteen. How old are you, eight?”

“I am fourteen, you insufferable spirit,” Robin snapped, glaring daggers at him. “And you are woefully unqualified to speak to me in such a tone.”

Danny rolled his eyes. “Yeah, okay, Robin Junior. Let me know when you grow a sense of humor.”

Red Hood, perched casually on a table nearby, barked out a laugh. “I like this kid already.”

Robin scowled. “You would.”

Red Hood swung his legs off the table, standing to his full height. “Alright, Casper, if you’re not the Ghost King, why’d this ritual grab you instead?”

“That’s a great question! Wish I knew!” Danny said, throwing up his hands.

Constantine frowned, stepping closer. “You’re definitely ghostly, mate, and half-alive by the looks of you.” His sharp gaze softened just slightly. “You’re a bloody halfa.”

Danny froze, eyes darting to the swirling green barrier still holding him in the circle (not really). “I’m a ghost. And yeah, I’m alive. What’s it to you?”

Batman loomed closer, his deep voice cutting through the room. “If you’re not the Ghost King, why does this summoning work?”

“Great question! Wish I knew!” Danny threw up his arms again, his ectoplasm glowing faintly in frustration. “I don’t even know who you are, and you’ve already ruined my night! or Maybe the universe hates me. That’d explain a lot!”

“Who even made this circle?” Red Hood asked, pointing at Constantine. “Did you check it? It’s glowing green. That’s ghost vibes, man.”

“Thanks for the observation, Red Hood,” Constantine said dryly. “What gave it away, the ectoplasm or the ghost?”

“You are in no position to demand answers,” Batman growled.

“Oh my god, you’re worse than my parents,” Danny muttered.

Before Batman could respond, the air grew colder. A heavy, oppressive presence filled the room as green flames erupted in the middle of the chamber. From the flames stepped Pariah Dark, fully armored and radiating raw power, his glowing eyes zeroing in on Danny.

The League tensed, weapons at the ready, but Pariah didn’t even look at them. Instead, his expression softened in a way that could only be described as paternal as he reached out and plucked Danny out of the circle like a child grabbing a stuffed animal.

“Who dares summon my child?” Pariah rumbled, his deep voice shaking the room. He cradled Danny in one massive hand as though he were the most precious treasure in existence. Danny, for his part, just sighed and leaned against one of Pariah’s fingers.

“Dad, chill. They’re not trying to hurt me—” Danny shot a glare at Batman, “—yet.”

“‘Dad’?” Robin echoed, utterly baffled.

“They stressed him out,” Pariah continued as if Danny hadn’t spoken. “This is the third time in two weeks. Do you know how much sleep he’s lost? He has school!”

Pariah’s gaze darkened. “The third summoning this week,” he growled. “And for what? To disrupt his rest? His studies?”

“Studies?” Robin repeated incredulously. “This alleged ‘Ghost Prince’ is concerned with—”

“School,” Red Hood supplied helpfully, smirking. “That tracks. He’s just a kid.”

“I’M NOT JUST A KID!” Danny protested, his voice cracking slightly. Jason snorted.

Before anyone else could respond, Fright Knight materialized beside Pariah, his armor gleaming and his sword crackling with ghostly energy. He took one look at the summoning circle and grimaced.

“Shall I eliminate the offenders, my liege?” he asked Pariah, his grip tightening on his sword.

“No!” Danny yelped, waving his hands frantically. “No eliminating, no smiting! We talked about this, remember?”

Pariah sighed, his massive shoulders slumping. “They stressed you out,” he rumbled. “They should pay.”

“They’ll be fine,” Danny muttered. “Just… let me handle it, okay?”

“‘Fine,’ he says,” Red Hood muttered. “We’re seconds away from getting blasted into the afterlife.”

Robin's hand drifted toward his sword, his eyes darting between Pariah and Fright Knight. “This is absurd. We are the Justice League. Surely, we are not so easily—”

“Shut it, kid,” Consttantine interrupted. “Unless you want to test if we’re actually ‘fine.’”

Danny groaned. “Can we not do this right now?”

Wonder Woman stepped forward, her voice calm but firm. “We summoned you because we need the Ghost King’s aid to stop a catastrophic magical event threatening the world.”

“Then why not summon him?” Danny snapped. “I’m not the king!”

“Yet the ritual brought you,” Batman said, his voice a mix of curiosity and accusation.

Pariah’s gaze darkened. “The crown does not transfer unless challenged. And none shall dare challenge my son.”

Danny squirmed in his ghost-dad’s grip. “Okay, Dad, they get it. Can you not threaten to destroy the world for five minutes?”

Pariah huffed but gently set Danny down, though he remained close, a looming shadow of protective menace.

Constantine rubbed his temples, muttering something about “bloody teenagers” and “overprotective ghost tyrants.” Meanwhile, the Batkids exchanged glances, clearly plotting something.

Danny sighed. “Look, I’ll help you guys with your big, scary magical problem, but can we make it quick? I have a chem test tomorrow.”

[lbjeff]

Constantine: so it is our Earth problem

Danny: I see, peachy easy, I can ask my mom to turn back time of this event so you could prevent it right from the start

JL *look at Pariah terrified*, Batman: so the Ghost King also has power to control time?

Danny: Nah, I mean my other dad, or mom if you count, he is the God of Time

JL and Constantine *even more horrified*

Constantine: Sorry young Prince, do you mind if I ask what is your title?

Danny: Well, I don’t have anything title as cool as my dads. Just some silly ones like Prince of the Ghost, Young Master of Infinite Realm, Master of Space, The God of Balance, Life-Death and Everything In Between

JL *blank faces cause their brain are blowing*; Constantine *nearly fainted

Tiny baby ghost

idea from Prompt for @silverblueglitter

The summoning circle glowed an eerie green, casting sharp shadows around the Justice League's meeting chamber. John Constantine, sleeves rolled up and cigarette dangling from his lips, muttered the last words of the incantation. The room held a tense silence, broken only by the faint hum of the magical energy.

When the green smoke cleared, instead of the imposing figure of the Ghost King they’d expected, a scrawny teenager in a black jumpsuit with white gloves and boots appeared, looking distinctly unimpressed.

“Seriously?!” Danny Phantom groaned, throwing up his hands. “It’s a school night!”

The room collectively blinked. Superman and Wonder Woman exchanged confused glances. Batman’s eyes narrowed behind his cowl, while the Batkids—perched around the room like chaotic gargoyles—leaned forward, intrigued.

“This… is the Ghost King?” Nightwing asked, his voice skeptical but amused.

“Ghost King?” Danny repeated, holding up a hand. “Nope. Wrong guy. Try again.”

“Clearly, this is a child,” Robin said flatly, stepping forward with his arms crossed. “Either the summoning ritual failed, or we’ve been deceived.”

“Who are you calling a child, mini-Nightmare?” Danny shot back, floating an inch off the ground to look taller. “I’m fifteen. How old are you, eight?”

“I am fourteen, you insufferable spirit,” Robin snapped, glaring daggers at him. “And you are woefully unqualified to speak to me in such a tone.”

Danny rolled his eyes. “Yeah, okay, Robin Junior. Let me know when you grow a sense of humor.”

Red Hood, perched casually on a table nearby, barked out a laugh. “I like this kid already.”

Robin scowled. “You would.”

Red Hood swung his legs off the table, standing to his full height. “Alright, Casper, if you’re not the Ghost King, why’d this ritual grab you instead?”

“That’s a great question! Wish I knew!” Danny said, throwing up his hands.

Constantine frowned, stepping closer. “You’re definitely ghostly, mate, and half-alive by the looks of you.” His sharp gaze softened just slightly. “You’re a bloody halfa.”

Danny froze, eyes darting to the swirling green barrier still holding him in the circle (not really). “I’m a ghost. And yeah, I’m alive. What’s it to you?”

Batman loomed closer, his deep voice cutting through the room. “If you’re not the Ghost King, why does this summoning work?”

“Great question! Wish I knew!” Danny threw up his arms again, his ectoplasm glowing faintly in frustration. “I don’t even know who you are, and you’ve already ruined my night! or Maybe the universe hates me. That’d explain a lot!”

“Who even made this circle?” Red Hood asked, pointing at Constantine. “Did you check it? It’s glowing green. That’s ghost vibes, man.”

“Thanks for the observation, Red Hood,” Constantine said dryly. “What gave it away, the ectoplasm or the ghost?”

“You are in no position to demand answers,” Batman growled.

“Oh my god, you’re worse than my parents,” Danny muttered.

Before Batman could respond, the air grew colder. A heavy, oppressive presence filled the room as green flames erupted in the middle of the chamber. From the flames stepped Pariah Dark, fully armored and radiating raw power, his glowing eyes zeroing in on Danny.

The League tensed, weapons at the ready, but Pariah didn’t even look at them. Instead, his expression softened in a way that could only be described as paternal as he reached out and plucked Danny out of the circle like a child grabbing a stuffed animal.

“Who dares summon my child?” Pariah rumbled, his deep voice shaking the room. He cradled Danny in one massive hand as though he were the most precious treasure in existence. Danny, for his part, just sighed and leaned against one of Pariah’s fingers.

“Dad, chill. They’re not trying to hurt me—” Danny shot a glare at Batman, “—yet.”

“‘Dad’?” Robin echoed, utterly baffled.

“They stressed him out,” Pariah continued as if Danny hadn’t spoken. “This is the third time in two weeks. Do you know how much sleep he’s lost? He has school!”

Pariah’s gaze darkened. “The third summoning this week,” he growled. “And for what? To disrupt his rest? His studies?”

“Studies?” Robin repeated incredulously. “This alleged ‘Ghost Prince’ is concerned with—”

“School,” Red Hood supplied helpfully, smirking. “That tracks. He’s just a kid.”

“I’M NOT JUST A KID!” Danny protested, his voice cracking slightly. Jason snorted.

Before anyone else could respond, Fright Knight materialized beside Pariah, his armor gleaming and his sword crackling with ghostly energy. He took one look at the summoning circle and grimaced.

“Shall I eliminate the offenders, my liege?” he asked Pariah, his grip tightening on his sword.

“No!” Danny yelped, waving his hands frantically. “No eliminating, no smiting! We talked about this, remember?”

Pariah sighed, his massive shoulders slumping. “They stressed you out,” he rumbled. “They should pay.”

“They’ll be fine,” Danny muttered. “Just… let me handle it, okay?”

“‘Fine,’ he says,” Red Hood muttered. “We’re seconds away from getting blasted into the afterlife.”

Robin's hand drifted toward his sword, his eyes darting between Pariah and Fright Knight. “This is absurd. We are the Justice League. Surely, we are not so easily—”

“Shut it, kid,” Consttantine interrupted. “Unless you want to test if we’re actually ‘fine.’”

Danny groaned. “Can we not do this right now?”

Wonder Woman stepped forward, her voice calm but firm. “We summoned you because we need the Ghost King’s aid to stop a catastrophic magical event threatening the world.”

“Then why not summon him?” Danny snapped. “I’m not the king!”

“Yet the ritual brought you,” Batman said, his voice a mix of curiosity and accusation.

Pariah’s gaze darkened. “The crown does not transfer unless challenged. And none shall dare challenge my son.”

Danny squirmed in his ghost-dad’s grip. “Okay, Dad, they get it. Can you not threaten to destroy the world for five minutes?”

Pariah huffed but gently set Danny down, though he remained close, a looming shadow of protective menace.

Constantine rubbed his temples, muttering something about “bloody teenagers” and “overprotective ghost tyrants.” Meanwhile, the Batkids exchanged glances, clearly plotting something.

Danny sighed. “Look, I’ll help you guys with your big, scary magical problem, but can we make it quick? I have a chem test tomorrow.”