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escelia · 6 months ago

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New Sibling Just Dropped

Or Danny gets willingly isekai'd into the DCU and gets a twin out of it.

I know I disappeared from the face of the earth for a bit there, and there's stuff I should probably be updating, but I come baring different stuff this time :D

Just started this for fun, and I have at least one other chapter of it done, but idk how long this bout of inspiration will last, so I'm just rolling with it for now.

@flamingpudding look! i pulled a jason todd and rose from the grave!

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Danny was tired. The kind of tired you felt behind your eyes and in your bones, and weighed heavy with achievement. He was perched on the edge of a building in his ghost form looking over Amity Park with a soft smile as he watched Youngblood run through the park with human children, Cujo playfully on their heels. His galaxy cloak (which had been a coronation gift) billowed around his lap like a gas with stars twinkling inside.

It had been a few years now since he took up the Crown of Fire and became High King of the Infinite Realms, and while he had accomplished many things since then, graduating from high school wasn't something on that list. It sucked that he wouldn't get to walk across the stage with Sam and Tucker, but in the face of all he'd been able to do for both Amity and the Infinite Realms, it was worth it. They coexisted now. There was still trouble every now and then, but Danny had helped the ghosts who insisted on staying in Amity Park find a place in their city where they could thrive.

Youngblood watched over the children of the city, Box Ghost started a box recycling center, Lunch Lady started a program to get food to families that couldn't afford it, and Pointdexter started reporting bullying at the school since he was already there.

On the Realms' side, Danny shut down Walker's prison. Since it was his lair, he couldn't take it away from him completely, but it no longer housed the many ghosts the warden had considered "rule breakers." He'd given Walker a new set of rules to enforce and essentially took him under his wing as a royal soldier, kept under the close watch of Fight Knight, who'd defected from Pariah Dark so fast after his defeat that it was laughable.

He'd done something similar with Skulker, though he was a harder case to crack. Unlike Walker, who was happy as long as he had a set of rules to enforce, Skulker wanted to keep hunting. He'd been recruited forcefully by Walker and Fright Knight after they caught him on his way to fight Danny again.

All in all, everything had begun to run smoothly now. The fatigue weighing on him reminded him that it had been hard to accomplish, and continuing to lead his double life hadn't made it any less exhausting. A cold breath rushed through his chest as he felt a familiar presence slide up next to him.

"You didn't time out," Danny pointed out without looking to face the ghost beside him. Clockwork hummed in acknowledgment.

"Sometimes it's pleasant to watch time flow in person." It was Danny's turn to hum at him.

"How are you feeling?" The Ancient asked thoughtfully. The younger ghost tilted his head pensively.

"It's hard to say. I'm tired, but I'm happy. And also sad..." he paused to gather his thoughts. "I feel like I've done everything I needed to."

But not everything he wanted to do.

"Go on," Clockwork pressed. The teenager did turn his head now to make a face at his mentor. If the guy knew how he felt and what he was going to say, why would he say it out loud? But the other just arched a brow at him and waited.

"Fine," he pouted. "I've spent so much time and energy finding places for everyone here. The GIW are gone, my parents stopped hunting ghosts, Jazz got into the psychology program at Stanford, Sam and Tucker are graduating today... I helped make that happen, I know I did! But they're moving on without me. They're growing up and I don't feel like I am."

'I don't feel like I'm ready.'

Danny stopped to take a breath and wipe away the icy tears gathering in his eyes. He felt stupid for crying over it. He was 17 for Ancients' sake! Jazz would have told him he grew up too fast, but he still felt like a child. He had no idea what he was doing! And yet! And yet... he felt...

"But you also feel ancient, right? Like you've been around too long and seen too much?" Clockwork said as though he were reading from a script. Danny sulked. Stupid time ghost with his dumb Time Stream TV or whatever.

"Yeah..."

"All Ancients feel that way. Though you may be feeling unbalanced in more ways than one because of how young you died and the fact you are half human."

"What do you mean?" Danny turned his whole body to face him now, tucking his knees under his chin and circling his arms around them. His cloak moved with him in inky black wisps and settled around him again like clouds of galaxies.

Clockworks form shifted to that of a child.

"You feel young because you died young. However, it is the nature of humans to grow and change. While you may have died at 14, your childhood died before that. You yearn to grow and learn, while also being an incredibly powerful Ancient."

He supposed that made sense. He recalled all the years cleaning the lab before the portal had even been built, and the fighting and neglect (Jazz's words, not his) that spawned his disdain of Christmas even longer before. He wanted to go back to school. He wanted a reason to love Christmas. He wanted pets and family dinners that didn't come alive. He wanted to grow up properly.

"But you still want to help people," the ghost said as though Danny had been talking out loud or having his mind read.

"I hate it when you do that," Danny complained. Clockwork just smiled smugly.

"I know." He laughed at the glare Danny threw him.

"I have a proposition for you," the older ghost began. Danny perked up in intrigue. "I know of another earth dimension with some problems that need to be addressed. Your role as High King puts you in a position to be helpful."

"Their problem has to do with the Realms?"

"In a manner of speaking, yes. Ectoplasm from the Realms is pooling into what are referred to on their planet as Lazarus Pits. They are both helpful and harmful as they do not dissipate into the air so they continually collect and concentrate emotion, but they do sometimes revive the dead."

Danny grimaced in disgust at the thought of dunking a person into a stagnant pool of contaminated ectoplasm. "That sounds disgusting."

"Quite," Clockwork agreed.

"So what's your proposition?"

"Well, if it is agreeable to you, I would like to de-age your physical form and place you with a family that's had dealings with the Pits firsthand. I've found them to be quite charming."

"Ah, so you want me to go in undercover?" Danny couldn't help but roll his eyes a little. It wasn't a half bad idea. He could try his hand at childhood again and still get to handle his duties as King Phantom. Leading a double life again would be easy enough, it was just stepping from one role into another.

"Not at all." Clockwork smiled knowingly. Danny was officially suspicious of his ghost guardian. "This planet has had all kinds of dealings with the occult, and even humans with superpowers isn't that unusual. While I would advise against telling anyone you are a king right away, you are in fact just that: a king. You may do what you wish."

For an ancient and wise time ghost, Danny thought Clockwork was really shit at hiding his expressions. Though he tried to keep the grin off his face, Danny could clearly see the twitching of his lips and gleam in his eyes that promised the old man was scheming.

But to get his childhood back. Or, at least a semblance of one... it deserved consideration. Danny looked back out at the cityscape again. Sam and Tucker... they were down there graduating from high school without him. He'd been the one to encourage them to pull away from Team Phantom activities to zero in on their studies, but he didn't regret it. Sam wanted to major in environmental science and Tucker wanted to go to MIT and he just didn't fit into those plans. After Jazz left for Stanford, his parents often forgot he was still there. He'd managed to convince them to study ghosts properly instead of hunting them, and with a little help from the "friendly ghost King Phantom" they were given a place to start. They dove into their research with the same excitement and fervor they'd had all their lives. Which of course meant he went days, sometimes weeks, without seeing them emerge from the lab. It was easy enough to slip past them to the portal while they were distracted.

The point was that he'd started to feel his anchor to this city, to this realm, start to dissipate as the people who kept him there started to break away from him. He still loved them, wanted to protect them, but they were safe and happy now. He felt fulfilled in his task of protecting them, but there was a buzzing beneath his skin to do more.

Danny took a deep and controlled breath. He didn't need it in his ghost form, but it felt good to feel his lungs stretch to fullness.

"When would I start?" He asked finally. The straight face Clockwork had been trying to keep, and he really was so bad at it, finally broke into a wide grin.

"Right now. Everything is already in place and your duties in the Realms will be taken care of in your absence."

Danny smiled softly at his guardian. Clockwork sure had a funny way of showing it, but he cared so deeply for the boy next to him that when Danny responded with a bad pun, he couldn't even be annoyed.

"Well, no time like the present!" He winked.

Clockwork chuckled, and with a flash of light, he sent Danny on his way.

The more time the older ghost spent with his young ward, the more he appreciated him. The Danny he’d come to know was nothing like the Danny’s from other worlds he’d encountered while trying to prevent Dan from existing. His Danny was now truly one of a kind. None of the others, not even the ones that eventually turned into Dan, had been Ancients. There would never be another Danny like him, and every universe was adjusting to include him should he ever decide to visit them. He had a place in any world, should he choose, but Clockwork knew he was needed most in the one he’d sent him to. It would be truly entertaining to watch the young Ancient settle into his role there, and Clockwork was actually finding himself looking forward to it.

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It was dark and quiet a long while before Danny opened his eyes. And when he did open them it got really loud and really bright really fast. It belatedly occurred to him that he should have asked like a billion more questions before agreeing to be iseaki’d into a different dimension to join a family he knew literally nothing about.

There was shouting before someone in what looked like a ninja cult uniform shoved a knife into his hand and pushed him in the path of a person in a different uniform. The man in front of him was dressed in blue and black and wearing a mask that covered his eyes, but Danny could see the surprised shape of his mouth before it morphed into something like anger. And then he was being lunged at.

He shrieked as he dodged out of the way. Not his most graceful save, but whatever. His voice was a bit shrill and his center of gravity felt way off. He must have actually been de-aged! He wondered how old he was now. He still felt light on his feet thanks to his ghost half which felt blessedly intact. But the other guy was fast and he ducked into a roll just in time to dodge whatever weapon he was holding. This guy meant business, but he had no idea why he was trying to kill him.

‘Great, thanks Grandfather Clock for throwing me right back into the good ol’ days,’ he thought sarcastically. Nobody had attacked him for no good reason like that since Walker and Fright caught Skulker mid hunt for the very last time.

What he now saw was a baton swung down from overhead and Danny knew he wouldn't dodge it in time, so he caught it with the flat of the blade that had been shoved into his hands.

“Wait! Why are we fighting?” Danny yelled, panicked as the guy pushed more force into it. The man's face twisted into something like confusion for a moment and he backed off just the tiniest bit before the scuffing of shoes to his right had him looking over just in time to see another guy in a mask, this time in red, rushing at him. He threw his hands up in surrender.

“Wait!” He shrieked before he was absolutely bodied sideways into the ground.

Why was he doing this? He was half ghost, he could have just gone intangible and disappeared. He didn't have to be body slammed into the ground. Wasn't he a child now? Did that guy in red actually just slam a whole child into the ground?

“Red, hold on! This one's different!”

“What do you mean?” The guy Red asked. He was still pinning Danny to the ground.

“Yeah, what do you mean?” Danny asked breathlessly, then whimpered, “Someone please tell me what's going on!”

The one hovering over him must have seen something on his face that convinced him to not try and kill him anymore, because he grabbed him by the collar and started dragging him along.

“We'll take him in for questioning. Don't let Robin see him.”

“Who's Robin?!”

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It had been a long, arduous, and confusing journey from wherever they were to… well, wherever they were now. They'd blindfolded him for the transport so he still had no idea what was going on. He had learned that the guy with batons was Nightwing, and Red was actually Red Robin. The one they called Robin was a feral looking thing with swords, he was very small and stabby. Then there was Batman, and he totally threw off the whole bird theme but was easily the most intimidating. And that was all he knew so far. He'd been restrained at an interrogation table.

Danny groaned and knocked his forehead onto the table. He really, really wished he'd asked Clockwork more questions. He'd at least been able to catch a glimpse of himself in the glass behind Batman. He looked like he was eleven or twelve again, which was not as young as he'd been expecting, but much more preferable than being a literal toddler. The group of people he’d been brought in by seemed to be heroes. They were all incredibly weary of him, but hadn’t gone out of their way to harm him since his capture. Though it was hard to call it a capture when there wasn’t a chase involved.

“How old are you?” Batman asked suddenly. His voice was low and rough and somehow Danny could tell it didn't sound like that naturally.

“Um, maybe eleven or twelve?” Danny replied carefully, picking up his head from the table and having the decency to look a little embarrassed.

“And what's your name?” He looked like he was expecting something.

“My name is Danny, sir.”

“Hmm…”

It was quiet and awkward for a long moment.

“Why are you different from the other clones?”

“Yeeeaaah, I'm not a clone.” Danny absolutely did not jump when the brute slammed the file folder shut in front of him.

“We'll see what your DNA results have to say about that,” he said confidently before turning to leave, his cape dramatically flaring out behind him.

Sheesh, and he thought he’d had a flair for the dramatics.

‘Okay, time for some assessment,’ Danny thought to himself as he looked around the small closed room. It was soundproofed incredibly well. While he didn’t have super crazy hearing, it was enhanced by his ghost half, and combined with his other sharp senses, it tended to help him gather more information than others could. The most he could hear outside the room was a quiet hum of activity and nothing discernible. Still, he needed to decide how much he would say to these people. How much truth did he want to weave into his tale? These people clearly already had their own assumptions about him in mind, and while there was absolutely nothing wrong with being a clone, he knew he didn’t have what it took to keep up an act like that for long, which would just end up being awkward for everyone.

He also would not be telling them about his status as Ghost King, per Clockwork’s suggestion. His captors seemed like the uptight sort, and revealing that he was a big, scary ghost monarch didn’t seem like it’d go over well. Telling them he was a halfa would probably get them off his back over the clone thing, at least. He went over the list in his head.

He was a halfa from another dimension, so he couldn’t be a clone.

He had no plans of fighting with anyone unless absolutely necessary.

He did not have a way back to his other dimension.

His name was Danny, and he didn’t have a family anymore.

He did not know why he was in the middle of whatever fight he woke up in.

No, he didn’t know those people.

Danny must’ve been lost in thought for quite a while because his thoughts were interrupted by Batman bursting back through the door. The man’s demeanor had changed completely and he whipped off his cowl to reveal disheveled dark hair, blue eyes, and an expression of absolute heartbreak that accompanied his shuddering breaths. With the mask off, he reminded Danny a lot of his father.

Batman searched his face and, much like Red Robin had before, seemed to notice something there.

“She did it twice,” he muttered to himself. “Two of them this whole time and she didn’t tell me about either of them,” he said through gritted teeth. His frown deepened. Danny copied his frown.

“Hey, are you okay?”

He still had no idea what was going on.

#dcxdp #danny phantom #batman #danny fenton #fanfiction #damian wayne #batfam #just having fun with all the tropes #danny and damian are twins #except they're also kinda not #danny just wants to be a kid again #clockwork is scheming again #not even damian is safe from it #danny wanted something to do and clockwork dropped him and and said “go fix this”#also this is like barely edited

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ririblogsss · 8 months ago

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Misunderstandings

Ok idk how to start this but hear me out...

If y'all don't know there's this guy called Phantom stranger (he appears in the young justice series and Batman: the brave and bold) he deals with the occult and things that would lead to great demise AKA world ending.

What if the JL heard of a hero called Phantom in Amity Park who was dealing with ghosts. And instead of thinking its a new hero that's possible inexperienced. They think that its Phantom Stranger(PS) and because he hasn't called them for back up they assume he has everything handled, and that's why the JL don't go to Amity Park, and decide to tell the residents they have it handled.

Amity looses all trust on the JL because what do they mean they have it handled. There are about 3 building with out structure damage caused by the constant ghost attacks and huntings (GIW +Mad Fenton scientists). So they collectively decided after 2 months of the same shit, to take matters into their own hands.

And then one day PS comes in raving about how his vacation has been so relaxing since no-one in the JL have called him for help.

Que people side eyeing and thinking DA FUK

Then someone breaks the silence asking: Weren't you in Amity Park helping with the Ghost outbreak?

Phantom Stranger: WHAT

everyone else: 'oh oh we fucked up'

#dp x dc #phantom stranger #dc x dp

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empresskylo · 1 year ago

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➠𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈; 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓; 𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓

ZOMBIE!SIMON 'GHOST' RILEY X AFAB!READER

SUMMARY | Simon is dead. And you were forced to leave him behind as the rise of the dead took over. When you volunteer to sneak back into base to grab med supplies, you don't expect to run into Simon—alive, but certainly not himself...

WARNINGS | dead dove do not eat! this is literally smut about zombie!ghost... so... beware i suppose. gore. dub-con?? afab!reader. wc 3k

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇ lock me up! send me to jail!!! i can't believe I wrote this yes i can. This is how down bad i am for Ghost, I literally wrote smut about fucking him as a zombie... someone send the authorities, i need my internet taken away. (happy oct 1st btw)

𝐜𝐨𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ✩ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

It had been less than two days since you lost Simon.

The image of him dying in the infirmary wing, bleeding out on the bed, was plastered behind your eyes. You saw it every waking moment and even dreamt of it during the night. You could still feel Soap’s hands squeezing your arms far too aggressively as he dragged you out of the infirmary while you cried out for Simon. You tried to claw your way to him but Soap was stronger than you by a long shot. “We have to get out of here!” he shouted at you over the cacophony of voices, people running around frantically. You let him drag you away to safety, your body limp in his hold, thinking of Simon’s dying breath.

The infirmary had promptly been boarded up, the doors all sealed tight. The breakout had begun a few weeks ago and it only just infiltrated the base. When Ghost had come back, bleeding out after a mission gone wrong, you furiously checked him for bite marks. The relief you felt when you didn’t find any was short-lived. Simon had lost a lot of blood. Too much blood. You could still see it covering your hands the days following like a wraith. You felt like his blood was still wedged under your fingernails even after scrubbing your hands violently in a bucket of water.

With the infirmary infected and the outside world gone, you had little options but to hunker down in the barracks. There were small hunting groups that would leave base and dare to edge into the city, trying to help people, and gathering resources. Ghost had been in one of those first groups to leave the safe confines of base. You wished you had begged him to stay. Pleaded with him not to go.

The lights above you flickered, the generator not the most reliable of equipment. You looked across the table to your teammates, trying to keep yourself pulled together. It was only at night that you let yourself feel the pain, crying yourself to sleep.

“We’re never gonna survive here if we don’t get that medical supplies,” Soap explained.

“It’s too dangerous, Soap. We have no idea how bad it got in there. We have no way of knowing if all the bodies left behind turned,” Price retorted, pulling off his beanie and running his hand through his hair in nerves.

“So, what then? We’re gonna send more men off to die, tryin’ to get shit from the city?”

Price closed his eyes momentarily. The bags forming under them showed just how little sleep he was getting. “We can’t risk more men. We’d be sendin’ them to their death, Soap. We don’t have the ammo to spare.”

“We don’t know that. We’re still not even sure if it's a guarantee the dead will change, or if they have to be bit.”

“It’s too–”

You cut the men off. “I can go.” Both their heads snapped in your direction. “I’m just a technician. With everything gone to shit, I haven’t been as much help as you guys have been. I can’t fight. I can’t–”

“No. We’re not riskin’ you,” Soap said sternly.

“Soap,” you breathed. “I’m the only one here that isn’t crucial to the team. And don’t argue with me. It’s just a fact. Let me go. I can sneak in and grab what we need. I’m far quieter than any of you boisterous men anyways.”

Soap breathed your name. He was worried about you. He could see the pain in your eyes after losing Simon. He was worried this was a suicide mission. And that you wanted that.

“Let me be of use,” you begged. Soap wanted to argue. So did Price. But you were right. You would be the fastest. And as much as they valued you, the remaining men couldn’t survive here without Soap or Price.

“Lass, are you sure?” Soap said finally. He wanted you to feel useful, but he didn’t want you running off and risking your life because of the pain you felt from losing Simon.

“Let me do it, Soap. Please. I need this.”

He couldn’t argue with you. He didn’t have it in him to hurt you more than you were already hurting.

“Fine. But I’m not happy about this.”

You stood in your gear, an empty backpack plastered to your back waiting to be filled with medical supplies. Price had gone over the layout of the wing with you, showing you exactly where you needed to go to get the right supplies on a map of the building.

You stood before the infirmary doors, the ones that would lead to a long, winding hall that would bring you to the center of the infirmary. Off of that were several rooms and more halls, and a surgical floor. It was a large span of space to cover, but you believed you could do this.

“Be quick about it, lass. We’ll be right here when you get back,” Soap said to you, his hand resting on your shoulder.

You took in a breath and walked up to the doors that had been unlocked, a large piece of plywood that had previously been nailed against it, removed so you could go in. Before you reached out to the door handle, you turned around and rushed into Soap’s arms. He held you tightly, your head tucked right under his chin. “Don’t you fuckin’ die on me,” he mumbled into your hair.

You pulled back and gave him a sad smile. Then you nodded at Price and faced the daunting doors again. Once you stepped through the threshold and the doors shut behind you, you could hear the plywood being put back up, a hammer nailing it in place. When you got back, you were to knock and Soap would be there waiting to let you back in.

The hall was flickering with a few overhead lights, the generator still powering a few of the rooms in this wing.

Ghost had a glazed-over expression when he rolled off his medical bed. The room around him was silent apart from the ticking of a clock in the corner. There was blood pooled all around him and dripping onto the tiled floor as he stood. He had some semblance of who he was, of what happened, but most of his thoughts were hazed over like he was stuck in a daydream.

He had walked the length of the room, a sudden craving for food hitting the pit of his stomach. Any sound made him snap in that direction, rushing towards it as if on cue. He heard banging coming from one of the med rooms, the door locked and nailed over with whatever scrap of wood they could find. More people like him were trapped behind those doors, their groaning echoing down the hall.

Ghost limped as he walked, remembering how he had been shot in his leg. He looked down at his crimson-stained pants, almost like he should be feeling pain, but he felt nothing.

Days had passed and he roamed the halls aimlessly, not even getting bored. His mind had drifted off, somewhere that wasn’t in his body, allowing him to walk around like a zombie, completely void of any logical thought.

He grumbled as he made his rounds, stuck in a time loop, walking down the flickering hall again and again, passing by bodies that had been left behind.

He hesitated when he heard something. He turned to look in the direction of the noise, intrigued. It sounded like someone had just walked blindly into a metal medical tray, knocking instruments onto the floor. His movements were fast and nimble as he approached the sound.

He froze in place when he saw you–though he didn’t know who you were at that moment. You cursed yourself for being loud but didn’t hear anything in retaliation so you figured you were safe. Your hand rested on the knife strapped to your hip anyway.

You were edging towards the main infirmary double doors, your hand touching the metal of the handle. You should go in there and get supplies, but that’s where you had last seen Simon. You didn’t have it in you to see what had become of him, his body rotting alone.

Instead, you walked down the hall and into a storage closet, oblivious to the shell of Ghost who trailed behind you.

You left the door to the storage room open to let in a few strips of light so you could see better. You hunched over and began to dig through the supplies that had been thrown all over the floor in panic.

Ghost rolled his neck as he saw you in the room, your back to him. He had a sudden urge to sink his teeth deep into your skin, to tear you to shreds. In fact, he wanted nothing more; the instinct was overpowering.

But when he got close, he could hear your voice as you mumbled to yourself, going over the list of the items you needed. You held up a pack of linens, trying to see if they were clean. “These will have to do,” you said softly, shoving them into your backpack.

A wave of familiarity surfaced inside Ghost, a strange feeling of being alive pumping through his veins. When he got to the doorframe, he could smell you. His senses heightened, the waft of your natural scent sent Ghost into a daze. He remembered—though he wasn’t sure what he was remembering. All he knew was that he recognized that smell.

His body had felt like it was in hibernation, his motors set on autopilot as he mindlessly walked down the halls. But suddenly, Ghost’s true mind was brought to the forefront. And his body craved you, though not in the way he had just moments earlier. He didn’t want to sink his teeth into your neck, he wanted to feel your warmth against him.

Ghost moved with such dexterity and silence, it was clear he was no longer human. When you stood, his arms immediately wrapped around you, eliciting a scream from your throat.

Ghost still wasn’t fully comprehending what was happening; all he knew was that his body wanted you. His hand slid up around your neck, leaving a trail of blood on your clothes. He tried to speak, but he couldn't fathom what he wanted to say. All that came out was a strangled groan.

You sputtered, trying to catch your breath as your heart raced in your chest. Ghost felt for your pulse beneath his fingertips, relishing in the way your blood pumped through your body.

You turned your head slightly, spying the man who had you trapped against the many shelves in the closet.

It was Simon.

Terror flooded your system. He didn’t look like himself. His eyes were glossed over, his pupils and iris almost unidentifiable, the entirety of his eyes were white, appearing like he was blind. The blood that had soaked his face had congealed, the rusted color running down his clothes where he was shot in the chest and leg. He looked just how you left him, and it sent a sense of terror through you.

“S-Simon?” You whispered, unsure if you were caught in a nightmare.

A groan escaped his cracked lips. You gulped. He had become one of them .

You were certain he was about to tear you apart, just as you had seen other fallen men do to your teammates. You closed your eyes, tears rushing down your cheeks as you prepared for the worst. His hands felt cold around your neck, like ice. You shivered against him. You accepted your fate—a small part of you actually wanted it. You wanted him to end you. To take you down with him. You didn't want to be alone anymore.

He nuzzled his nose against your neck and you squeezed your eyes shut, preparing for him to bite you. But it never came.

Instead, he just moved his nose against you, smelling your hair and skin. His hands were still locked tightly against you, but they began to travel across your body. You opened your eyes in shock. Ghost’s hands trailed your chest, groping you with one hand, the other sprawling over the front of your thigh and stomach. You gasped in surprise.

You felt him harden against you, something you had experienced many times before now, and the familiarity of it made your heart pound with mixed emotions. Your mind was too caught up trying to decipher what was happening to truly take the moment in.

Ghost’s cold hands slid under your black shirt, snaking their way up to your breasts, cupping each one in his hands. Your nipples immediately hardened from the iciness of his touch. He ground himself against your backside, making you close your eyes in a moment of reprieve. You got lost in the past, imagining this was how it used to be. How he had touched you so many times before.

You breathed his name and he seemed to like that, for he rolled his hips against you harder, his chest rumbling in satisfaction.

The cold of his hands left you, making you oddly yearn to have them back on your skin. His fingers traced the hem of your pants before aggressively pulling them down. He got them past the curve of your ass and turned your bodies so your hips hit the edge of a shelving unit that acted as a table. You knocked all the supplies off as Ghost pushed you down against it, using your hands to catch yourself.

Ghost shuffled with his own pants, wasting no time at all to slip himself inside you. You called out in a brief shock of pain. He held himself deep within you, his hands squeezing as he held you, his body bent over slightly, his chest flat against your back. Your own hands reached out to grab the edge of the table to help steady yourself. The searing heat of you against his frozen skin spread through him like wildfire.

Your cries ignited a flame in Ghost’s chest—the feel of your body, the sound of your gasps, the smell of your hair—felt natural, like this was exactly what he was supposed to be doing. That he was made to take you like this. That your body against him was something so ingrained in his system, that he had no choice to to let his limbs move on muscle memory.

He began to thrust inside you, your hips hitting the table with each snap of his hips. His hand snaked around your neck, the smear of blood now coating your skin. One of your hands came up to wrap around his wrist, resting it there in support.

You groaned as he rocked into you harder. The pain from his sudden intrusion had subsided, and now you were filled with a haze of rapture. A tear slid down your cheek. You were unable to process what was happening, but what you did know was that you had missed Simon more than anything and that this wasn’t real. This wouldn’t last longer than this moment in time.

Ghost’s chest rumbled in pleasure as he thrusted into you. Your walls squeezed around him and he let out a loud groan. His arm not clutching your neck wrapped around your midsection, pulling you away from the table so you were flesh against him. He held you tight, almost like he couldn’t get you close enough. That if he had his way, he’d let you make a home beneath his skin.

His hips snapped vehemently against you, his pace quickening. You moaned, your sounds coming out strangled as his cold hand held your neck. Your walls tightened around him, your climax rapidly approaching. You couldn’t quite believe that you were not only fucking your dead boyfriend, but you were going to come in record time.

You were absolutely intoxicating to him as your warmth clenched down on him, your heat something recognizable to him, and yet, the intimacy was foreign at the same time. Now that he was devoid of his usual body temperature, the warm feeling of you around him was almost painful.

When you mewled and cried under him, your walls spasaming, he drew himself to the edge right behind you. Ghost came inside you with a great urge, growling in your ear as he tried to support the two of you. You felt him fill you, the white fluid seeping out around where his cock continued to pump in and out of you. His movements became sloppy, your legs shaking, your hand clutching onto his wrist for dear life.

You couldn’t hold back the cascade of tears, finally letting them flow as Ghost slowed his pace before stopping altogether. He edged out of you, his arms hesitantly letting you go, and you immediately turned around to face him, burying your face in his chest. You sobbed as he stood there. His arms didn’t reach out and hold you like he once would. He didn’t try to comfort you like he always did so well.

But still, he just let you huddle against him, taking what you needed from him. He didn’t attack you. He didn’t try to kill you. He wasn’t himself, but he wasn’t fully gone either. You turned to look up at him, resting your chin on his chest. He looked down and you stifled a cry. His white eyes were going to be permanently burned into your mind, haunting you for eternity. His face was sullen and blanched, blood smearing all across him; fresh blood dripping slightly from his mouth.

You tentatively reached a hand up and rested it on his frozen cheek. “I’m sorry,” you mumbled. Ghost made no indication he could even hear you.

You took in a deep breath, willing yourself to do this, and stepped back. You adjusted yourself before slowly reaching down for your bag. Ghost stood and watched you, the only thing moving was the tilt of his head as he traced your movements.

You shuffled to the door, anticipating him to reach out and end this daydream, ripping you apart. But he just watched you go, his mind riddled with foggy thoughts. He wanted to tear into you, but another part of him prevented him from doing so. He wanted to grab you and hold you against him for some reason. He liked the warmth your body provided. But another part of him felt nothing at all.

He watched you leave in a stupor, his mind just barely grasping onto the image and memory of you. It’s true, he wasn’t completely gone, but he was fading fast.

You cried violently as you stumbled back to the exit. When you banged on the doors, you heard the plywood being ripped off and the doors swinging open. Soap pulled you back into the base and held you at arm's length. “What happened?” he asked desperately. You were sobbing and covered in blood.

Should you tell him? Would Soap let you return to Simon knowing he wasn’t gone? Or would they make you stay here, letting Simon slip away forever?

You suddenly regretted leaving him. You should have stayed with Simon, even if he was a shell of who he used to be. You should have waited the time out together until he fully lost himself, and you would let him take you down with him.

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cryptfile · 1 month ago

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★ kinktober file 01 — wandering star, d. winchester

based on this request here, fem! reader, 18+ mdni, warnings of established relationship, degradation, dumbification, edging, p in v, oral sex, praise kink, english is not my first lenguage (thank god!) any mistakes? i’m not sorry for it, feel free to hit me up with requests in my inbox to keep kinktober going! <3 also, dividers by @cafekitsune!

He’s cocky after a hunt goes the way he wants.

Dean Winchester’s always a damn headache after a sucessful solved case. He gets in this mood where he feels invincible and well, he just feels like he could win the lottery if he puts his mind into it.

Sam’s done by the time you guys are in the next town, checking into another cheap motel. The older Winchester has been a damn pain in the ass the whole ride so the first thing he does when you guys ask for separate rooms? Ditch the problem to you.

“He’s your boyfriend,” he’d say, obviously done with his sassy attitude as he left to his own private space — Sacred space he values since you appeared. “You deal with him.”

You love your boyfriend that’s for sure but after a hunt? Your muscles are sore, you feel like you’re going to get sick and on top of all? You been dying for a hot shower and bed.

Dean’s plans are way different, cause by the time Sam leaves saying he’s going to buy burgers in any open restaurant, he’s all over you. Literally.

“Why are you so needy?” you ask furrowing your brows, he’s in a good mood now that he survived a violent ghost who’s bones you had to burn, and honestly, it doesn’t make any sense: The rush of adrenaline? The near death experience? Usually he’s deep in his third dream by now, but that night? He got this grin in his face when he’s pushing you to the motel bed despite any response he could recieve—. “Dean.”

“Just want to make m’lady feel on cloud nine,” he says, planting soft kisses on the exposed skin of your neck, a fight you cannot possibly win. “Can I do that? Take care of my girl?”

Thing is, deep down, you don’t want to win any fight. Not that one at least when Dean’s pulling you to the edge of the bed, unblucking his belt as he lets the fabric of his jeans fall to the floor, he’s craving you ever since you pulled this show up in the morning when you said there was no time to shower together since the case was so important. Naked, standing in a foggy bathroom: You won’t let him have you? Not even ten minutes? Fucking unfair.

He can do a lot in ten. You do love it even when it’s rushed, when Sam’s pushing on the other side of the door screaming something about being late, his only goal is to take whatever he needs, so in ten minutes he can do plenty. He can kneel on the slippery floor, filthy thoughts as he helps you lift up your leg — “Such a pretty pussy, already dripping for me?” he would said, the sound of his voice imprinted in your memory. The warm water burns on your skin as he uses a hand to spread you open, buring his face in your cunt without a previous warning.

Even under the shower he makes you sweat. Dean’s damn skilled so he knows what spot he needs to hit to get you there, the wet sounds that fill the bathroom on random mornings — He knows you’re getting there when his digits finally fill you up in a way you can even describe, his tongue lapping over your clit, taking his time, savouring each sound he manages to get out of you, the way you say his name when he’s nose-deep in what he claims belongs to him.

And god you’re a mess. A fucking mess every single time.

“You owe me,” Dean says confident, “We solve the case, job done here. I want your full attention now.”

He has it soon after. Every ounce of it.

He’s not patient enough to play with you before like he would do in the morning, in the dirty motel you’re now at the hunter would mumble something about not giving a single fuck about preparing you cause you’re already wet enough for him, something about being already used to his size cause he’d fucked you plenty of times before, that your warm and tight cunt is already prepared for him cause you’ve been his for months, convinced that you can take him. No problem at all.

“You were such a bitch to me this morning,” he says, pushing your cheek against the matress, not caring enough about your comfort as he forces himself inside you, muffling the sounds of your moans as he places his hand on your mouth, keeping you in place—. “Do you have any idea of how hard is to concentrate on a ghost when all I can think is to have you beneath?”

He’s rough when he’s needy, straight up filthy as he lets his primal desires take over. Dean forgets about it all. His hand collides against your ass a couple of times, spanking hard enough so the skin is red to be visibly noticiable, to make you think about another pain more than the one you felt as he’s finally buried inside you.

“Atta girl” he praises, leaning to place kisses on your shoulders, giving you just enough time to adjust— “Lookin’ so pretty when full of my cock.”

He enjoys the view so much. So damn much Dean chuckles for a second, almost proud of the mess he’s done with you, always so damn tight, already clenching on his dick as you squirm desesperate to move. He got you where he wants you to be.

“Move that nice ass for me,” he says seconds after, demanding you to take him faster as he moves you at the rythm he needs—. “That’s it, fuck yourself pretty witch, work for it.”

“Dean,” you whine, the sound distant thanks to his fingers covering your mouth— “Dean-please”

“What are you begging for?” he chuckles, the sound of his laugh making your skin shiver as his hips buckle up to meet the pace you’ve been setting— “My girl is dumb for my cock already? Only a few minutes in and my baby is talking nonsense?”

He’s giving you exactly what you need, that nice pace as he grabs you by the tights, fingers buried in your skin as his movements become more erratic, desesperate as the time passes.

Dean waits. Cause he can be a cruel son of a bitch sometimes, drive you fucking mad cause he knows when’s you’re close to release, when you’re ready to cum as he slides his cock off, leaving you hollow as you loudly gasp.

“What the actual-fuck?” you ask clearly annoyed, looking over your shoulder as he offers you a sly grin—. “Dean, what the fuck?”

“We are goint to work in some manners here,” he says, grabbing you by the hair, roughly pulling your head to the side so he can look at your face while speaking—. “Cause you’re not doing to me what you did in the morning ever again. Teasing me all fucking day, acting all innocent about it. No. You’re gonna cum when I say so. And we’re gonna start all over again ‘till that big brains of yours finally gets it: No more leaving Dean Winchester all hard in the bathroom.”

next kinktober file [ art donaldson ] // masterlist

#kinktober #kinktober 2024 #dean winchester smut #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fanfiction #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles #jensen ackles x you #dean winchester x female!reader #supernatural smut #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester x you #cryptfile // supernatural #dean winchester #supernatural #cryptfile // kinktober

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katakaluptastrophy · 9 months ago

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Masterpost of TLT metas

This is mostly for my own reference, as tagging doesn't seem to guarantee something being findable on Tumblr...but if you like wildly overthinking lesbian necromancers in space, enjoy!

Overthinking the Fifth House:

What is a "Speaker to the Dead"?

Actually, Magnus Quinn isn't terrible at sword fighting

Imperial complicity: Abigail the First

Pyschopomp: Abigail Pent and Hecate

Did Teacher conspire with Cytherea to kill the Fifth?

What does the Fifth House actually do?

The Fourth and the Fifth can never just be family

Cytherea's political observations at the anniversary dinner

Abigail Pent's affect: ghosts and autism

Were the Fourth wards of the Fifth?

Abigail probably knew most of the scions as children

Magnus Quinn's very understandable anger

Fifth House necromancy is not neat and tidy

Are Abigail and Magnus an exception to the exploitative nature of cavaliership?

"Abigail Pent literally brought her husband and look where that got her" (the Fifth in TUG)

The Fifth's relationship dynamic

The Fifth's relationship is unconventional in a number of ways

The queer-coding of Abigail and Magnus' relationship

Abigail and Palamedes, and knowing in the River

Was Isaac the ward of the Fifth?

Did Magnus manage to draw his sword before Cytherea killed him? (and why he probably had to watch his wife die)

How did Abigail know she was murdered by a Lyctor?

Fifth House necromancy is straight out of the Odyssey

The politics of the anniversary dinner

Was Magnus born outside of the Dominicus system?

Overthinking John Gaius:

The one time John was happy was playing Jesus

Is Alecto's body made from John's?

Are there atheists in the Nine Houses?

Why isn't John's daughter a necromancer?

The horrors of love go both ways: why John could have asked Alecto 'what have you done to me?'

Why M- may have really hoped John was on drugs

What is it with guys called Jo(h)n and getting disintegrated? (John and Dr Manhattan)

John's conference call with his CIA handlers

Watching your friend turn into an eldritch horror

Why does G1deon look so weird? (Jod regrew him from an arm)

When is a friendship bracelet not a friendship bracelet?

Why did John have G1deon hunt Harrow? (with bonus update)

The 'indelible' sin of Lyctorhood and John's shoddy plagiarism of Catholicism

Are John Gaius and Abigail Pent so different?

What was Jod's plan at Canaan House?

John and Ianthe tread the Eightfold path

The Mithraeum is more than a joke about cows

When was John Gaius born? (And another)

John Gaius and the tragic Orestes

John and Jesus writing sins in the sand

John and Nona's echoing chapters

John's motivations

Overthinking the Nine Houses:

'No retainers, no attendants, no domestics'

Funerary customs and the violence of John's silence

Juno Zeta and the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad time

The horror of the River bubble

Every instance of 'is this how it happens' in HTN

Feudalism is still shitty even if you make it queer and sex positive

How do stele work?

Thought crime in the Nine Houses

The Houses have a population the size of Canada

What must it be like to fight the Houses?

You know what can't have been fun? Merv wing's megatruck on Varun day...

Augustine's very Catholic hobby (decorating skeletons)

Necromancers are not thin in a conventionally attractive way

Matching the Houses with the planets of the solar system

Why don't the Nine Houses have (consistent) vaccination or varifocals?

How would the Houses react to the deaths at Canaan House?

How does Wake understand her own name (languages over 10,000 years)

What pre-resurrection texts are known in the Houses?

Camilla and Palamedes very Platonic relationship

The horrors the Cohort found at Canaan House

Do the Houses understand the tech keeping them alive?

Overthinking House religion:

What do the Houses believe about death?

Was M's nun a Franciscan?

Cavaliership and arbitrary socio-religious structures

Ritual scarification

Sacraments and sacramentals

What did Silas think god wanted at Canaan House?

In defense of Silas

There's no such thing as a 'good' necro/cav relationship

Veiling and shaving in Ninth House cult practice

Tongue-in-cheek thoughts on Eighth and Sixth religion

A very long deep-dive on House belief and practice

Overthinking Harrowhark Nonagesimus:

'The meat of your meat...belonged to god' and 'that is how meat loves meat'

The horror of parental touch: Harrow, John Gaius, and Abigail Pent

Why is Harrow so obsessed with Abigail's hands?

Frontline Titties of the Fifth and transgressive necro/cav relationships

Harrow, Wake, and permeability of the soul in HTN

Bible studies for weird queer necromancers:

Epiphany: revealing god's child to the wider world

The Holy Innocents and the creche massacre

The Virgin Mary and Commander Wake

John Gaius and John the Baptist

Instantiating the Trinity and the Second Resurrection

What's the significance of Paul?

St Paul's theology of gender and sexuality and the House theology of cavaliership

Maundy Thursday: consuming another for eternal life

Harrow and the Harrowing of Hell

#the locked tomb #tlt meta #I like thinking about TLT a normal amount #Please do reply or reblog with your ideas or send asks!

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sanguinesmi1e · 14 days ago

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A Round Door Like a Porthole, Lazarus Green Pt. 1 Pt. 2 (you're here) Pt. 3 Pt. 4

Art of LBM

Danny was still lying under the Specter Speeder, mind reeling as the words “they opened this portal with a child sacrifice, and bound his death and all the lost life potential to their bloody machine to create a perpetual gateway to the Infinite Realms” ran in a loop through his head. Could that really be true? Is his death attached to the portal, forever lodged in the doorway, preventing it from closing?

The guy clearly knew what he was talking about. The bit about why his ghost friends and frenemies caused so much chaos as they unleashed their obsessions on Amity Park made so much sense. It would certainly explain a lot of his interactions with ghosts after he died.

Danny silently cursed himself for not destroying everything in the lab before they got here. He and Jazz hadn't worried about the portal schematics, because they honestly didn't have any way to open a portal, only cycle energy in a recursive loop that shouldn’t have done anything. No one, not he and Jazz, not their parents, not Tucker or Technus, had been able to figure out why it had worked when Danny was inside. But if the machine was able to sustain a portal that was already opened. . . He wondered idly if he could light a fire that looked accidental and would both destroy the lab and leave the two men enough time to escape. It’d probably be too risky. And who knew what destroying the portal would do to him. Fully kill him? Destroy him completely and shatter his core? It might be worth it to prevent anyone from gaining this knowledge.

No wonder Lex Luthor was interested in this business. A child was murdered in this basement, and for all Tim knew, the child’s soul could still be trapped here fueling a Lazarus Pit that connected the world of the living to the afterlife. What Luthor could do with an interdimensional portal or even a single sample of Lazarus water. . . Tim shuddered to think.

On the one hand, he was grateful that Wayne Enterprises secured the business before Luthor had the chance. On the other hand, he felt rather ill to think his family had directly enriched mad scientists who performed child sacrifices. At least he had full faith that between him and Oracle, they’d hunt the Fentons down and make sure justice was served.

“What is to be done for the child?” Tim asked Constantine. “Is his soul tied to that machine?”

“I don’t think so. I’m pretty sure it’s just his death.”

“You’re gonna have to explain the difference to me, ‘cause I’m not sure I see the distinction.” Tim said wryly.

“I guess. . . Hm. You could think of it as the moment of transition drawn out endlessly like a plucked string whose note never stops vibrating. Like life is the anchor point of one end of the string, and the afterlife is at the other end, and the child’s death is the note created when his soul crosses from one side to the other. The soul is the bow causing reverberations, but the reverberations are the actual death itself. The effect of the soul’s passage. And in this case, the portal is amplifying the death so it doesn’t end like a normal death ‘note’ would.” Constantine leaned in to examine some of the runes that were part of the array. “Not a perfect metaphor, obviously, since you bow perpendicular rather than parallel to the string, and death and souls are nothing like music, but you get the idea, right?”

Tim was still caught on John Constantine saying the words “death note” together unironically in a sentence. He was going to have to share that with Steph later. Maybe with the whole family group chat, even. “Yeah, the metaphor makes sense, as much as any of this occult stuff does to me.”

“Whatever. As for whether there’s anything we can do for the child, I think we’ll have to try and summon him if we can.” The Brit started pulling items out of his trenchcoat’s inner pockets. “We need to ask what the spirit wants done, before we go messing with things we don’t understand.”

“Alright, need anything from me?”

“Yeah, move this stuff out of the way so I can draw a circle.” Constantine directed Tim to shove aside a few stacks of boxes, something called a Fenton Ghost Weasel, and together they shifted a coffin-shaped iron maiden that for some reason was labeled Fenton Stockades. Then he set to work chalking a circle and runes on the ground.

Finally he sat back and dusted chalk off his hands. “That should do it.”

“Will this be bright too?” Tim asked warily.

“Eh, might be? Shouldn’t be too bad.”

Tim grabbed an auto-darkening welding helmet with a green “Fenton” sticker on it off the workbench and slipped it on.

“Alright, here goes.” Constantine began the summoning ritual.

While Danny debated arson, the other two had finished clearing a space and chalked some kind of circle onto the floor. He tuned back into the conversation when he heard the trenchcoat guy begin a traditional incantation for a summoning. Were they trying to summon him? Danny really hoped it wouldn’t work.

When people tried to summon the Ghost King he could almost always ignore the pull. This pull, however, was very strong and immediate. It seemed proximity made a difference, or this guy was just better at summonings than the average cultist. Before Danny could accept the inevitable, he was pulled bodily — literally! — out from under the vehicle and across the floor, still flat on his back on the Fenton Under Car Creeper, with the Specter Speeder’s ecto-engine hugged tightly to his chest. The wheels of the Fenton Creeper (not to be mistaken with the Fenton Anti-Creep Stick) sped him straight to the summoning circle. Still very much in human form.

This was his first real look at the guy called Constantine, and he couldn’t help a horrified yelp. “Eugh!! What the fuck is wrong with you, dude!?!!”

His lapse in attention made him lose the battle with the summoning spell, and it gripped him, pulling him through the convolutions of the spellwork even though he was already lying half across the circle, and forcing him to change into Phantom in the process. It was such a disgusting sensation, like he was one of those squishy water filled tube snake toys that look like a fleshlight, and someone squeezed really hard and abruptly so he turned inside out and went flying to go splat against a wall (or in this case, against the ground inside the circle of chalk). He tried and failed not to retch.

The younger man in the crisp suit whom he’d already identified as Mr. CEO-Timothy-Drake-Wayne looked at him in startled bafflement, while the older blond, still smoking his cigarette, (gross, and was that thing never ending?) was probably looking at him. Maybe. It was really difficult to tell, because he was a frankly vile sight. Danny winced and swallowed down nausea. “What have you done to your soul?”

“I — what?”

“Trypophobia central, man! Ugh that’s gotta be the grossest thing I’ve ever seen. Can’t you cover it up?”

“Who are you?” Timothy Drake-Wayne interjected.

“I’m the dead guy? You literally just summoned me.”

“Constantine said you were a child”

“I mean, I was?” Danny looked down at his obviously twenty-something year-old self and rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s been a while since I was fourteen though. These things happen.”

“Not typically, no. The dead tend to be pretty unaging.” Constantine said.

“Dude I’m not having a conversation with you while your soul looks like Escher’s swiss cheese nightmare. Anyways, some of us do. Heck, I know a guy who constantly shifts from infant to old man and every stage in between. It’s pretty distracting when you’re trying to get him to let you fix the timeline again.” Danny continued to look anywhere but at the blond man. “But if it’s so important to you, I can —” He got an abstracted look, and slowly de-aged himself until the two men stood over a fourteen year old boy with snow white hair and glowing green eyes.

“That does not help. No.” The guy whose soul looked somewhat like a bleeding tooth fungus said. He turned away and started doing something magical. Danny hoped it would mask his soul in some way, but so far all it did was make Danny feel like he needed to pop his ears.

He also felt particularly uncharitable, so he didn’t revert to his natural age, and instead tried to see how young and cute he could make himself appear.

“So are you just haunting this basement? Seems hazardous, given the former proprietors.” Timothy tried to redirect the conversation. He didn’t seem nearly as distressed to see the ghost of a child, but his eyes darted surreptitiously to the Lichtenberg figure Danny used to always hide under gloves.

“Nah, haven’t been back here in years. I mostly live in my Infinite Realms haunt these days.”

“You . . . live? Is that just a figure of speech?”

“It’s rude to ask about a ghost’s nonliving status, you know. Highly taboo to ask how a ghost died or poke into the circumstances of our deaths without permission.” Danny admonished. Making himself younger than fourteen took more effort than he expected.

“Alright, I’m sorry,” Timothy raised his hands placatingly to the boy who now looked younger than Damian. “What brings you back to Amity Park?”

“Uh, you summoned me? Are we still not clear on that?”

Tim looked pointedly at the Fenton Creeper and the engine Danny still held. He’d shrunk down to the size of a four year old, and the engine really should be crushing him given it was bigger than his torso now. He quickly set it aside, and turned his biggest puppy dog eyes on Tim.

“You were in here already, and you looked pretty alive for a moment there.”

“I can look lots of ways!” Danny focused really hard on looking as cute, small, and nonthreatening as possible. He thought it was working when all of a sudden there was a pop! and he was smaller than he’d ever managed before.

Timothy Drake-Wayne looked like a giant. The other guy, who had thankfully managed to put away his soul somehow, wore scuffed oxfords bigger than Danny. Hell, he could probably fit his entire self into one of Constantine’s shoes if that wasn’t a bizarre thing to do, and they weren’t already full of stinky feet. Holy shit what happened to him!?

Tim blinked down at the cat? Snake? Ghost. . . thing at his feet. What the fuck. A moment ago he was talking to an adult man whom he’s pretty sure was dead and he’s very sure was trolling them. Now his interlocutor had turned into an adorable creature with soft white paws, a long twisting tail, big pointed ears that swiveled like a cats, and a humanoid face that should’ve been creepy but was actually eliciting cute-aggression in him. Tim blinked again. The little baby ghost creature blinked enormous green eyes back at him. Then it yawned, revealing three rows of needle sharp teeth that looked like a cross between what you’d find in the mouth of a shark and a cat. Yikes.

“Does that mean the interview is over?” Tim asked him.

The creature just blinked up at him again, then zeroed in on his shoelaces, pupils expanding until only a narrow band of green ringed them.

Yup. The interview was over. Those paws hid some wicked claws which could apparently slice through leather with ease. Oh, Tim really hoped ghost scratch fever wasn’t a thing. At least the ghost looked sufficiently contrite after he yelped, and it waited while he removed a shoelace to sacrifice as a toy.

If Damian ever met him, there would be a new member of the family. Maybe he should name the creature preemptively so they didn’t have a cat-snake named Bat-Ghost in Wayne manor.

“Do you have a name, little baby cat-snake ghost? Little baby ghost man?” He cooed as the miniature monster dashed back and forth, intent on shredding his shoelace.

The ghost paused long enough to chirp, “Li’l baby man!” before launching himself at the string. Even shocked, Tim’s reflexes had him whisking the toy out of the way, and the ghost went careening under a cabinet.

He wedged himself in the gap, landing face first in a dust bunny, and quickly wriggled backwards with an indignant squall. His wordless protestations cut off as he fell into a violent sneezing fit that thankfully dislodged him from beneath the cabinet.

Tim suppressed his laugh, and asked, “Little Baby Man? Is that what you want to be called?”

The ghost pawed most of the dust away from his nose, but spider webs covered his face and a big dust bunny perched atop his head like a fascinator with a cobweb lace veil. He looked Tim right in the eyes and nodded, dislodging the dust in his hair and setting off more sneezes.

“Li’l Baby Man” he confirmed. He placed a paw on Tim’s shoe and chirped, “Tim!” Then he pointed his tail at Constantine and said, “Gross!” with narrowed eyes.

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bootlegspiders · 7 months ago

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Hey, so for Watcher fans who may not wanna pay for another subscription or just wanna watch something new here are some other youtubers you should take a look at if you want to get a spook or learn some history

(* = potentially triggering topics covered usually associated with crimes, so be careful)

Ghost Hunting and general spooky vibes:

AmysCrypt - Your typical ghost hunting show with two Australians traveling the world, though I will say they do go to places I've never heard of before and they do very good research. And there are some goofs along with the spooks.

The Ouija Brothers - Two British dudes finding ghosts in England. The vibes are generally pretty chill and it's a good time

The Paranormal Scholar - A mixed bag of all paranormal happenings from ghosts to demons to cryptids and aliens. Sort of an overview to deepdives on various paranormal occurrences. The research is immaculate and their voice is very soothing in my opinion.

Paranormal Quest - Ghost hunting in the US, sometimes goofy sometimes serious, but they do go to some interesting places and some familiar ones too

Weird History:

ObsoleteOddity* - This guy is great, like 80% of the things he covers I've never heard of before. Very atmospheric, fun little visuals, and a large variety of weird events and people for topics.

Georgia Marie* - A little bit of everything, but she focuses on strange things that have happened, lgbt history, true crime, and historical disasters. She covers enough of everything that I'm sure you'll find something

Stefanie Valentine* - I'm not sure if she even posts anymore, but I thought what she was doing was great. Think Vampira or Elvira but for older true crime and ghost stories, I think the latest covered would have been like early 1900s. Idk I just thought it was like a cute spooky lil storytime

Caitlin Doughty or Ask A Mortician* - Pretty sure y'all would know who she is but just in case, she's a mortician who covers topics relating to death! From odd ways people have died, or odd things that have happened to people after they've died. And just odd or tragic things that have happened through history. It's silly, but done with levity and care and respect the topics deserve.

General History:

Part-Time Explorer - Mostly history on ships and ghost towns with the occasional train. Lots of research and interviews, very well done and worth checking out even if it may not be your thing.

History's Forgotten People - Talks about sometimes obscure, or sometimes not, historical individuals. Even if you've heard of the person in the topic, they'll talk on something obscure about that person.

History Tea Time with Lindsay Holiday - A heavy focus on royalty around the world, a generally upbeat dive into historic individuals.

(Or you could always go watch time team, that's an option and it's my guilty pleasure love me some archeology)

True Crime:

There are so many out there, so I'll just recommend two of my favorites

Gabulosis* - She focuses on vintage cases 20 years or older (literally in her opener) and is well researched and respectful. Another one that talks on cases I've never heard of that deserve to be heard.

Mysterious WV* - True crime and missing persons based in the West Virginia area and neighboring states. Idk how to even explain the vibes. This guy is just great please watch him trust me you won't be disappointed.

That's all for now, feel free to add your own recs out there!

#or you can just go watch night mind lol #watcher #ghost files #mystery files #puppet history #too many spirits #youtube recommendations #youtube recs #ghost hunting #history #true crime #let me know if you want any more

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fox-guardian · 1 year ago

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hey guys did you know that um. did you know. first of all did you know i'm losing my mind, secondly, do y'all remember in tma how when someone reads a written statement, they don't really Stop unless they're interrupted? and they read the whole thing easy cheesy, no issues with reading whatever words are there? like. jon literally could read french for a whole statement and was Fine. granted, that's Jon, but like nobody else struggled with pronunciations and whatnot (that i can recall)

presumably, this is an eye thing. either as employees of the institute, or because everyone there is just also eye-aligned in some degree (melanie had the ghost hunting show, the eye is fond of martin, etc)

and then there's tim in season 3 ep 86

[Sigh] Statement of… uh, Benjamin Hatendi… Hateendi? Regarding a… [papers rustling] a blanket. Dead friend. Monster. Regarding his unavoidable and gruesome end. How he tried to hide. He couldn’t. Statement is from… 1983, March 2nd. And I guess… [long sigh] I guess I’m doing this one. Tim Stoker. Archival assistant… Archival prisoner at the Magnus Institute.

correct me if im wrong but i don't recall anyone struggling with pronunciations before this bit. but that's not even the biggest thing here, that's just a lil Taste, a lil Flavor.

note the phrasing there. "Regarding his unavoidable and gruesome end." why would he say this when the written text on the statement says this:

Uh, right. Benjamin Hatendi’s account of… [rustling pages] oh for… a, a strange encounter. Er, statement date, March 2nd, 1983. Melanie King recording. Apparently.

"a strange encounter". that's it. nothing about an unavoidable death, just a "strange encounter". Tim Why Did You Say That.

why would our dear timothy bimothy, who is being pushed to the brink, who is becoming rapidly more depressed and losing hope, say this?

this isn't the only time he's said some weirdly grim shit tho (ep 104)

There was never really any hope for me, though, was there? This was how it was always going to go.

and then there's this bit from elias apparently having Looked into tim (also 104)

TIM All right, hit me with your X-ray eyes then, boss. What do you see? ELIAS Disruption. An unpredictable, angry man with nothing left but the desire to feel in some way revenged. TIM [Sarcastic] Ooh, terrifying! Surely only magic could have let you see so deep inside my very soul.

"nothing left" but the desire to feel revenged. and tim doesn't dispute this, because it's true.

when he first joined the institute he did so in order to look for answers about danny, but then he stopped seriously looking. and now that the circus is back, this is all the drive he has left. not looking for answers, just wanting revenge. closure. an end, if you will.

this is Literally It For Him. a couple lines later he suggests elias kill him, he's At The Breaking Point.

he is so tired, he's lost all hope, and he's saying all this grim shit about "unavoidable death" and "this is how it was always going to go" like hmmmm sounds familiar doesn't it. DOESN'T IT (<- is going insane)

(ep 11) [....] despite the rapid response of the paramedics and how much of his medical history I had immediately to hand, there was nothing I could do to save him. (ep 11) I have no responsibility to try and prevent whatever fate is coming for you. Based on my previous experience, such a thing is likely impossible anyway,[....] (ep 121) There. That was it. That was our fate; where we would always be.

hmmmm sounds a bit like oliver huh? everyone's favorite ex-accountant avatar of the end?? right??

but then there's this last bit i have from ep 86.

why did he stop reading the statement

Statement. “My parents never let me have a nightlight. I was always afraid, but they were ju–” Ugh, this is stupid.

why did he do that. again, correct me if im wrong but when else has someone just Stopped Reading like that without someone or something else interrupting them? why could tim just stop himself?

my theory is this: at this point, tim is completely gone from being aligned with the eye. he no longer seeks to know what happened to danny, he just wants closure. he doesn't wanna do any statement work, and he keeps mentioning these tidbits about hopelessness and the inevitability of terrible events, specifically death.

the eye isn't compelling him to read the statements like it does the others, because it doesn't have as strong a hold anymore. the grip is slipping from him. and by the time the unknowing rolls around, maybe it's lost him for good. maybe he finally fell into a different power he never meant to serve, and yet, he does.

and maybe. just maybe. because i'm so not in denial. but MAYBE. he did die in the unknowing. but maybe he got better.

basically end!tim truthers rise up, this is how end!tim kayaking with his bf oliver banks can still win, etc etc I'm Going Feral <3

#ramblings with major #the magnus archives #tma #tim stoker #oliver banks #timoliver #lil bit uwu #tim stoker tuesday #end!tim #cursing #tma angst #ig #i hope this is coherent and makes sense im losing my MIIIIND im losing my Mind

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radiance1 · 1 month ago

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"Okay, so." Danny began slowly, very, very slowly. Testing the rope that bound his arms behind his back. "This is new... Ish."

"Sorry, sorry." The kid Danny had, unfortunately (but also fortunately), saved from multiple kidnappings from cultists. Said, hands raised in his direction but also not going any further and instead fidgeting in place. "Are they too tight? Do you want me to loosen them?"

"No, no. They're fine." Danny shrugged, silently hoping the Infinite Realms isn't going to smite the unfortunate boy across from him for, you know, kidnapping Danny and all that. "I would say this is one of the more comfortable kidnappings, to be honest."

"Oh, okay. That's good." The kid nodded slowly, though a bit hesitant before deciding not to follow that line of conversation. "Alright, so, my name's Billy." Billy introduced him, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand as he gave an awkward smile. "Y'know, the guy you saved from multiple kidnappings and, uh, kidnapped you too."

"Cool, cool." Danny hummed lightly, leaning back against the wall. "Name's Danny, nice to meet you Billy."

"I thought your name was Phantom?" Billy asked, understandably confused.

"It is." Danny confirmed.

"But your name is also, Danny?" Billy tilted his head a bit.

"Yes." Danny said, unhelpfully.

"Is Danny your secret identity?" Billy asked.

"Nope."

"Is Phantom your secret identity?"

"Yes but no."

A beat.

"That makes no sense." Billy said flatly.

"What can I say," Danny shrugged. "Not a lot of things in my life make sense."

"Right, yea." Billy nodded politely, drumming his fingers against his leg. "Interdimensional prince and stuff."

"Yea."

A moment of silence.

"So-" Billy began.

"No, the Ghost King isn't going to hunt you down. No, every other ghost in existence isn't going to hunt you down either and, no. This isn't going to start a war."

Billy blinked.

"Not what I was going to ask, but okay. That's nice to know." He nodded, a certain amount of relief unknotting unknown pressure in his chest he only knew till now.

"Oh." Danny blinked, then tilted his head. "Soooo, what did you want to ask then?"

"Do you want to be my boyfriend-"

"Yes."

===

"Let's fucking GOOOOOO!" Zeus roared, throwing his fists into the air. "Haha! Take that Solomon! I told you it would work!"

Solomon pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed in exasperation, reaching into his robe and pulling out 5 gold coins.

"Thank-a you!" Mercury swiped the money right out of his hands then hid them... Somewhere, on his body. Then gave Solomon a wink. "Pleasure doing business with ya!"

===

"Oh, it finally happened." Clockwork remarked calmly, barely pausing as he continued to run the comb through hair.

"The Realms seem out of sorts." Pariah Dark said slowly, twisting his head to try to look back at Clockwork only to turn it right back from the gentle whack of Clockwork's staff. "Should I be concerned?"

"No," Clockwork said casually, running the comb through his king's hair. Honestly, it amazed him that Eons of Eternal Slumber, yet his hair wasn't a rat's nest. "Let it sort itself out, it shall be done in the next century, or the next two millennium, either or."

"You're unsure?" Pariah tilted his head forwards the slightest amount, doing so very carefully as to not disturb the Master of Time's work.

"A rough estimate, though I can give a more accurate statement," Clockwork hummed lightly as he combed through the few knots left. "It is unimportant."

"Ah," Pariah Dark, both trusting and not knowing enough about said subject seeing as he does not have dominion over time, nodded slightly. "I see."

===

The Infinite Realms was very, very happy to see one of its blorbos gain a lover.

It knew interrupting various kidnappings and marking the boy as a good Realms token so they could meet would work out eventually!

#dpxdc #dc x dp #dp x dc #dcxdp #dp x dc crossover #dc x dp crossover #What am I doing #I don't know #If I mischaraterize idk man #Anywyas #Have this thing #As for the token thing #I mean #Come on #No one gets kidnapped THAT many times for a specific purpose unless due to outside intervention #It worked out anyways sooooo-#Also #Olbigatory Dark Ages #:3

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princessbrunette · 2 months ago

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⊹ ᜊ(ᜊ ´ ˘)੭ ♡ … COINCIDENCE ♡

track six of the short n’sweet series. pairing: toxic!jj x reader. based loosely on the song coincidence by sabrina carpenter. enjoy! ໒꒰՞ ܸ. .ܸ՞꒱ა

you and kiara carerra were not similar in the slightest.

both beautiful in your own right, sure — but just… different. she was tomboyish, a natural beauty with the ‘cool girl’ charm. she knew makes of cars, how to play pool and actually be good at it. she got competitive and passionate at sports events. she could make a plain tank top and denim shorts look effortlessly gorgeous. she was kiara — and you were well, you. a real girly girl, nails were always done, not the biggest sports fan and you’d always make sure your bikini matched your flip flops even if you were going to be taking them off the second you reached the beach. you were two people that probably wouldn’t cross paths otherwise, but you can see why she had her eye on you and likewise.

infact, you remember the first time you saw jj maybank — and he’d done a double take to watch you go by while she was still at his side.

granted, it was the very end of their relationship. you’re talking — break up the next day end. but still, it was grounds for you to raise an eyebrow. doubt strikes your chest each time you remember it. what should have been flattering was actually waving red flags in your face.

it wasn’t just a glance either, if you were being totally honest. it was a greedy stare — one that travelled from your face to your feet, every ex girlfriends nightmare when he ended up at your side just a few weeks later.

just like that, kiara started to show up everywhere the two of you were. haunting you like a ghost. she didn’t seem like she loved parties before, much preferring to surf and grab food on a saturday evening — but since you coupled up with the maybank boy you’d think she was hunting for the next Project X — around each turn all dressed up with a drink in her hand, chatting happily away to all of jj’s friends that you didn’t know how to talk to. it set you on edge.

a revenge plot, sure — and you couldn’t blame the girl. you’d be scalded too. you knew to stay out of her way, despite the situation bothering you. you knew jj noticed her scheming, infact she’d occasionally find reasons to talk to him and you’d swallow it down. she was confrontational, you were not — and perhaps guilt was involved, because you’d pathetically glue your eyes to your shoes whenever she’d smugly approach. you daren’t start anything.

you felt paralysed when she approached the blonde at your side at the next party you were at. “dude, can we talk in private?” she stresses solemnly, even glancing your way in reference as if to say ‘without her.’ you look helpless, bless your heart— looking over to jj and just praying her tells her to fuck off finally. but he didn’t, and wouldn’t. he might have been a little toxic in his decision making, but you’d like to think on the inside he was too good of a guy to let her down like that. which is why he presses his lips together awkwardly and nods, giving you a reassuring little pat on your lower back before strolling off with her towards an empty room, running a hand through his hair. you watched him go, you watched her take him away.

you walk to the drinks table and pour way too much liquor into your cup. pope watches, standing nearby having definitely scoped out the situation and sends you this… look. he meant well, but the gaze of sympathy did nothing to reassure you. what did he know? why would he be sorry?

you down the drink, and next thing you know it’s been fifteen minutes and they’re still behind a closed door. you shove your cup into john b’s hand, who looks taken aback but guards it nonetheless, and you storm right up there without thinking. you’re done being the sweet, lenient girlfriend. he wants crazy? you can match that too.

“times up, you can get the fuck ou—” your voice trails off after you swing the door open with such a force. it’s not exactly the sight you were expecting to see, shocked that you weren’t witnessing a head of blonde hair between her spread legs. instead, she paces infront of him in tears, all while he sits on the edge of the bed awkwardly, brow creased. whatever was happening, it didn’t look like cheating.

“of fucking course.” kiara gestures to you before pushing past, wiping her eyes and leaving the room. you clear your throat awkwardly.

“wanna leave?” your voice comes softer this time and he blinks at you.

“‘ya.”

the drive home is weird and suspenseful. he’s gripping the steering wheel and you’re fidgeting and itching, dying to ask what happened. what you saw.

“i just don’t understand why she won’t leave you alone.” your voice decides on a solemn tone as you stare ahead at the dark road ahead of you. jj’s jaw ticks in irritation and his eyes flutter as if resisting an eye roll. you just about catch the expression when you turn your head, and no — it’s not what you were expecting.

“its not really like, up for discussion right now? so can we just—” his hand lurches forward to press the on button to the radio, music ringing out for not even a second before you shut it off just as fast, frowning now.

“no, that’s — don’t be unfair. i’ve been so fucking tolerant jj. you know i have. i have never asked— but— but can you not see how this might concern me?” you feel your face getting hot and your voice raising.

“alright we’re goin’ there— okay! look, babe — she’s my friend. i’ve known that chick since i was like fourteen so this whole issue is kinda bigger than you, i’ll be honest—”

“you’re in a relationship. you left her! why do i feel like i have to hold you so tight or you’re gonna run off to her!”

“i’on know maybe you should be lookin’ at your own trust issues ‘stead of pointing the finger at me.” he pulls into your drive, haphazardly parking the car but neither of you make a move to get out, turning your bodies to face one another.

“trust issues? jj do you really think it’s a coincidence that she shows up everywhere that we’re at? she’s trying to get you back and i don’t know what hold she has over you but you need to stop letting her run you if you wanna stay with me.” you assert, tears gathering in the corners of your eyes. he rolls his eyes practically into space, leaning back in his seat as he runs a hand over his face.

“look. she got the wrong idea. last time me n’you had that big fight i… i went over to see her. nothin’ happened i just talked about…us, and i guess she just — she got her hopes up— that’s it, okay—”

“are you serious? jj are you fucking serious?” your voice shakes, and your feet move. you open the car door, being sure to slam it shut before marching to your door, trembling hands fumbling for the keys in your purse. he’s quick to follow, sighing at his own choice of words as he tries to block you from getting inside, continuing to ramble.

“dont be like that, mama. c’mon, you know i wouldn’t go there. you really don’t trust me— like at all?”

“the first time i saw you, you checked me out while you were still with her. you’re not above it.” you sniff angrily as you finally find your keys, shoving past to slot them in the keyhole. he grabs your arm as you pass him, stopping you in your tracks. you always forget how strong he is.

“it ain’t right. i know.” he defends, eyes wide and urgent as he stares down at you. he softens, trying to pull you toward him. “i know.”

“no you don’t. so what, when you lose feelings for me you’ll just toss me to the side when a hotter girl comes along? no thank you.” you shove him off you, storming into the living room and he curses, shutting your front door and chasing you in.

“i’on know what you want from me but i’mma guess it’s some kinda sick reassurance. i told you time and time again that me n’her just weren’t right. we outgrew eachother. end of freakin’ story. you know what? you know what babe? i’mma show you what you do to me.” you feel him on you, manhandling you like some kind of brute, a kidnapper of sorts and roughly lowering you to the ground so he can hold you down on your front no matter how hard you squirm.

nothing in your body is saying no despite your violent wriggling from his grip. infact, on instinct your back arches and you groan, petulantly.

“yeah, tha’s what i thought. all this ‘cos you wanted papa to show you how much he cares? that it? god damn you piss me off.” he grits his teeth, fighting your skirt off your body as he holds your body down with his knees, practically straddling you.

it doesn’t take long for you to get wet, not with the way he’s handling you, with the way he’s talking to you, a hand on your throat pulling your face off the carpet to listen good.

“i was in the room tellin’ her to stop playin’ in my girls face and she was cryin’. that what you wanted to hear? huh? that it’s you over anyone? ‘cus if that’s what you want i can drill it right into that brain all night. pull your panties to the side n’don’t lemme tell you twice.”

your glossy folds part for him when you arch harder, tears on your cheeks that you don’t remember falling as you reach back and peel the panties away from your cunt. you hear him belt buckle and you mewl from habit. it felt so good. it felt so good to be chosen.

“mhm. if i’m so bad, and such a pig, why am i holdin’ you down gettin’ ready to pound your shit right now and not with her? huh?”

you couldn’t answer. maybe this was bigger than you, maybe it wasn’t — but for now you’ll believe his every word. hard not to listen when he’s pushing his tip in.

#short n sweet series 🧁#toxic!jj #jj maybank prompt #and no this isn’t kiara shade it’s just a story

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its-monster-mash · 2 years ago

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4 and 33!

AHHH THANK YOU FOR ASKING.

4: Which Cryptids do you believe in?

Generally speaking I don’t actually DIS-believe in anything unless I find out that it was either proven a Hoax or literally just some kind of weird racism thing(like the whole Roanoke “Mystery”). So much about this world is so strange that I wouldn’t feel comfortable assuming there’s nothing out there that eludes concrete study. I am also from Rural Appalachia(Too North for Mothman), so that could contribute to my views(I was also raised to respect indigenous spirits, since my Grandfather did his best to keep certain family traditions and stories alive before our family fell apart—and a lot of “Cryptids” fall into the category of misinterpreting Legends out of Native Culture or Figures from Indigenous Religions, so since I’m not an expert on what local legends are based off of what spirits, I generally choose to behave with respect toward local legends). I have also personally seen quite a bit that’s very difficult to explain(though it’s usually more along the “Ghost Stories and Shadow People” classification more than “Cryptid” perhaps—where is the line drawn?). Most people from the Valley I grew up in(and currently live in) have a lot of odd stories to tell—of course, maybe there’s another explanation for the things we’ve seen—but I never immediately disbelieve local legends. There’s usually a reason a story came to be, and when we don’t know the truth, it’s best to err on the side of caution.

Sorry if that was odd and rambly; I have a lot of thoughts about that sort of thing, and this answer would get very very long if I didn’t try to limit myself somewhere lol

33: What was the last adventure you went on?

It depends very much on the meaning of Adventure in this case; but the last time something FELT like an adventure to me, my cousin, son, and I were on a drive a couple of weeks ago. It was less about the Physical adventure(though, as usual, we did see some strange things. That said, we passed through the state park local to us, and that place in and of itself sees a lot of strange activity at night) and more about the nature of the discussion we had. It was about a deeply unpleasant and personal topic, and wound into the territory of family secrets and connecting old traumas with relatively newly revealed information.

Less Esoterically, Bonus Story, before I was a parent, that same Cousin and I used to go into non-posted woods at night to paint eyes and teeth on trees. It wasn’t deemed vandalism(we did it often in the woods around the campus of a college we’d both studied at on separate occasions. We weren’t the first one to paint the eyes, but we added the teeth and added more eyes). I still wonder what people thought about it, since neither of us were actively students at the time(it was a popular spot that students would go to to get stoned. It was about a ten minute walk away from the campus proper).

#asktag #My cousin and I used to get into a LLT of strange adventures #LOT**#plus there was the haunted hotel I used to freelance at #we still mean to go back one of these days now that my cousin has Ghost Hunting Equipment #they want to travel the country and stay at haunted places; but they need someone to go with them; and I’m less willing to head into potenti #danger now that I have a child #growing up was kind of a mess #let’s just say I literally was not afraid of death or prison before I became a mom #I once held a knife to a guy’s throat on the bridge leading toward those same woods where we painted the eyes #he asked me ‘What would you do if I tried to kill you right now?’ and I told him ‘Find Out’#That’s not me anymore though #sometimes I miss that level of freedom to feel Apathy; but I love my kid #my spouse once said that he doesn’t believe I could kill someone if I had to; even to protect our child #like he doesn’t think I could mentally force myself to kill a stranger #and I just laughed at him #because he didn’t know me back then #we were together a year before we had our kiddo and at that point I had been masking the whole ‘Hair’s Breadth away from Homicide’ thing #but like; OOF. yeah. like my youth was straight up clownshoes #my cousin and I joke that my life is just a grab bag of horror movie tropes #It’s strange not being that person anymore #Like I used to hold knives to throats and get into literally bloody brawls and stay awake all night with a baseball bat in hand for safety #now I’m just a goth mom who bakes cookies and has a tiny dog #I live a very domestic life now #I wear cute little Halloween Aprons and I write romances for a living #sorry that was a LOT #I am.#In a particular kind of mood lately.

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tiny-space-platypus · 3 months ago

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Identity Fraud

Hunting

Part 6

Danny was having a good day. He had aced a presentation, turned in an essay early, and got a bunch of lab work done. Plus he was excited to hear about Elle's day! She had been so excited to go to that museum, he's sure she'd be bursting to tell him about-

She wasn't at the school. No one was at the school. Why wasn't anyone at the school?? What had he missed? Danny immediately checked his phone to find a call from the school and a voice mail. "Due to unforeseen events, the 5th grade field trip is cancelled for the day. All children will be brought home accompanied by a Gotham PD officer to insure safety. We at Gotham Academy-" Danny hung up before the voice mail could finish. Elle was possibly with a cop at their apartment, someone who could definitely turn them in. He needed to get to his sister, he needed to make sure she was alright. He needs to protect his little sister. Danny's core burned as he rushed back to his apartment to find nothing. Danny panicked, had they already taken her? Had Danny failed to protect her so soon?

She was still close

His core was buzzing as much as his ears were ringing. Danny went Ghost, he wasn't supposed to here, even if Gotham was full of ecto-energy and its own ghost as soon as he transformed he was trackable but Elle was so much more important than that. Plus they were likely already compromised. They'd have to hide again, maybe leave this country this time. He'll have Tucker and technus erase their identities here and make a new one wherever they land.

As Danny's thoughts spiral he went invisible and intangible fading through the building he knew Elle was in floor by floor, room by room. He needed to find her- He needed to find her. He needed to protect her.

Danny did find her. He found her dying on a couch from fucking Blood blossom poisoning. He found her surrounded by vigilantes and some muscular guy. A guy who had definitely died before. That didn't matter, he needed to focus on Elle. Danny dropped the Intangibility and invisibility as he crouched down in front of Elle gently placing a hand on her little face causing her to whine. Danny was enraged as the vigilantes immediately jumped and tried to restrain him. Unfortunately for them they had died before, unfortunately for them he was the king of the realms. Fortunately for Danny they had to listen to his commands. Danny stood up as the two vigilantes readied to attack along with the muscular man. The muscular man would be the easiest to control, giving him more energy to help Elle. Danny made eye contact with the muscular man, as soon as he did the man's eyes glowed green. Danny then did something he hated, he gave the dead an order.

"Restrain and hold them still."

And with that the muscular man attacked the two smaller vigilantes. They yelled and cried as the muscular man attacked them but Danny had tuned them out. He had to focus on Elle. Danny held out his palms in a sort of cup as green ectoplasm formed in his hands glowing brightly as all that came from the king did. He carefully allowed the liquid to drain down Elle's throat till the blood blossom effects had faded away. Danny didn't care about the Vigilantes yelling as he picked Elle up. Before going invisible and intangible again, he looked at the muscular man who looked at him with practically empty glowing greens eyes, Danny gave yet another order.

"You may release them in t minutes. Then you are also released"

Danny and Elle then both left, he would take her to the zone to heal properly.

––––———————

Jason couldn't control himself. Jason couldn't fucking control himself. Jason was frozen, unable to move against the figure that just just appeared. As soon as that white haired.. Thing! Looked at him his vision filled with that awful green but it felt different this time. There was no uncontrollable, all consuming rage but a soft him of rage that waited for something.

Restrain and hold them still.

A voice? No a feeling maybe? broke through the buzzing, a calm voice that for some reason the pit listened to. Jason felt 2 figures in his hold, struggling to get away but unable to as he held them tight. The calm voice called again.

5 minutes

Jason held his grip as the voice counted down, as what he was holding struggled more.

4 minutes

Jason felt calm, calmer than he should have ever felt with the pit taking hold of him but for some reason.. This was so peaceful.

3 minutes

The smaller of the two he was holding had stopped struggling allowing Jason to change how he held it.

2 minutes

He began to hear the world again, barely. He could barely hear his brothers yelling at him.

1 minute

The world was slowly coming back as the green faded from his vision. Jason felt odd as he slowly let go of the brothers he was holding so firmly.

0 minutes

Jason was almost fully aware of the world around him as gently placed down his brother. His head was spinning and the world felt fuzzy. What had happened? Dick was there? Dick was slowly tapping on his arm, a soft grounding rhythm that Jason could match his breathing to. What had happened? What was going on??

—————————

"It took Danielle, we need to go after her!" Damian got up quickly as soon as he was let go. Damian immediately began to look for how that person got in without setting off their alarms. As well as any clues of where they went. Tim was on the floor gasping for air as Steph looked after him. Whatever had made Jason restrain them made him restrain the two of them with the same amount of force. That was fine for Damian and his tiny stature but for Tim Jason was practically squeezing the life out of him till he adjusted his hold.

Duke and Cass were trying to find where the figure went and where he had taken the girl, Barbara was looking at security cameras, and Bruce in all his Batman Glory was immediately checking on all of them he was their father after all. Then came the report from the 2 of them.

Tim had hit his emergency Beacon first, then when he was being choked by his big brother in some sort of mind control haze, he just kept pressing the button hoping the others would get there before he passed out. Damian had hit his after struggling for a bit only making the grip tighter and Tim wheeze.

They both froze as they watched the figure summon Lazarus water in their hands. Then they both struggled and yelled more as it poured the water down the girl's throat. Was that why it had taken control of Jay? Did it have control over those damned pits? The figure never even addressed them just sent Jason to keep them out of the way before disappearing. That thing wasn't human. That thing was dangerous to their family. That thing was going to get the hell out of Gotham before it could possibly hurt any of Bruce's kids. He won't let that happen not again.

They'll look into this creature tonight for now Bruce needs to make sure his boys will be safe.

———————

Danny mostly unaware of the chaos he had just caused for the bats shoves up at the Far Frozen holding a still unconscious Elle. Frostbite began treatment of her almost immediately, but even still they'd have a few days before Elle would be stable and conscious again. Danny could cover his little sister's absence for a few days. He can cover her absence for a few days, that should be fine. It's not like they were currently being hunted for.

#dc x dp #danny phantom #dcu #batman #the robins #tim drake #dick grayson #damian wayne #jason todd #king phantom #saw a thing about danny being able to control ghost/ectoplasm because of the whole being king thing and I'd thought it'd be fun to use #the batfam is all going to have a collective panic attack because WTF

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notspiders · 6 months ago

Text

Oh, Honey! (Bumblebee! Reader x Monster! 141)

General Warnings: Mostly fluff. Reader is female and is described as rather small and chubby. Reader is clumsy. Reader has a very large family. Characters may act out of character. Poor grammar is likely. Cussing. Part 1??? Note: Monster! 141 belongs to @bluegiragi

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Price watches you through the window.

Truthfully, he isn't sure how he and his team ended up here. One day they were being chased by a bloody team of zombies/cannon fodder, the next- he's laying on this extremely cozy bed (although it is a bit small) with his wounds nicely patched. Soap has gone hunting with the other women. Ghost is satisfied that they're all safe in this... rather massive cottage and has been snoring away in the next room for the past hour. Gaz has told him that he's going to just fly around and keep an eye out- just in case if the enemies somehow find themselves through the dense woods and into this clearing.

They really were lucky, Price thinks. According to you, the woods were a force themselves. Navigating through it, especially at night, is practically impossible. Compasses don't work. There's no signal and, of course, any type of aircraft just fail here. The woods are miles long and unless you packed enough supplies- it's suicide to dive back in and try to find your way out. It's just that sometimes the woods can help you, and sometimes the woods just gives you Mother Nature's middle finger and kills you. So there's that.

Naturally, the team was suspicious.

1) The explanation made no sense. 2) They were just outnumbered by a ton of enemies and to stumble upon this welcoming lot is... well, it's too good to be true, yeah? 3) You and your family are just way too happy. 3.1) There are no guys in your family. Your mother stated that men generally just wandered in, the family would treat them, and then they go away by themselves after a few nights. 3.2) Honestly, all of you look the same. Maybe there's like, a difference in hairstyles, body types, and obvious age gaps between the women here and there, but Jesus… Gaz has already made the mistake of confusing you, your cousins, your many sisters, and other random girls multiple times last night. 3.3) Scratch out the 'massive cottage' you guys claimed it to be. It's a mansion. Your 'family' is very large. There are many aunts, other women, cousins, other girls that were adopt into the family- Just no men. All living under the same roof and might as well be an army itself with how efficient you all did your tasks.

That said, it's very rude to point guns at innocent, clueless civilians. You, an adorably chubby, little bumblebee-hybrid (identifiable by the two rather pathetic buzzing wings behind your back), opened the door to them last night and stared blankly at their guns before cheerily ushering them in without freaking your head out. Next thing they knew, they got some quality homecooked meals cooked and served before them, plenty of drink (the honey mead everyone shared is excellent), proper treatment with their wounds (with... herbs), and warm beds. Ghost had stayed up the whole night and snooped around (just in case) but reported nothing interesting except for a few old hunting rifles and some overdue library books. Yes, each girl did carry a tiny foraging knife, but he's pretty certain they could still punt them like footballs ten at a time.

Morning comes- the team properly introduce themselves without being too specific of their occupation. There was a great deal of oohing and aahing as Price unfolded his one wing. His smoke did cause one girl to faint and her mother quickly asked for Price to... stop. He did his best and has, for now, stopped smoking his cigar. Everyone just steered clear from Ghost. Many children were petting Soap's head and playing with his fluffy tail, and others were stroking Gaz's wings.

Despite all the attention, Price's gaze is always on you. Maybe it was because of the fact that he's seen you first. You were just the cutest out of all of them. He wanted to whisk you away just to squish every soft part of your body and have you cuddled up beside him in his nest back home.

He's sorely disappointed to be told that he needs to return to bed so that his wounds can heal faster. No matter. The window gives him a very nice view of the clearing outside. Some girls are tending to the farm. Others are beekeeping. Plenty have gone to the outskirts of the forest to forage or hunt. Soap has offered to go out with the girls and they gladly accepted his help. (Tomorrow, he'll get off of this bed and join everyone too.)

Right now, you're picking the berries in your garden. It's amusing to watch you. Sometimes you bend over to pluck a few pretty flowers too- he's gotten a very nice view of your plump arse here and there. He's watched you buzz your small wings to just barely get a foot in the air and pluck an apple off the tree. Oh, how he wished to simply go out to lift you up himself... Your weight would be nothing to him.

From his observations, he's smartly deduced: Your body is round. Your little wings aren't designed for distance.

He loves the way you'd burrow your nose into any flower. Sometimes you remind him of Johnny's eagerness by the way you'd get a bit too enthusiastic and faceplant into the bed of flowers to take in the scent.

Price watches you get up, bump into your cousin (or is it sister? Or is this another girl? He couldn't be arsed), and the two of you collectively squeaked and apologized at the same time. Adorable. Fascinating. Beautiful. He hasn't felt this way ever since the time he xaight the glimpse of the shiny Excalibur in that stupid rock.

The lunch horn has been blown. He's been told that today's meal would be freshly baked bread and creamy chicken with wild rice soup. There’ll be tea and coffee for the drinks.

Price wishes his lunch would just be you.

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