#Jazz was to small to really remember it

[skylersprompts]

DC x DP Prompt *21*

In a normal Situation Tim wouldn’t be looking into his family history, but he hadn’t slept for the last four days and had been subjected to one of Bruce’s Galas. A Gala were he heard some of his parents ‘friends’ gossip about him.

“He really doesn't look like either of them”

“When he was smaller I could have sworn that he had Janet's nose”

“Yeah and he looked exactly like his father as a baby, but now...”

And if he wasn’t as sleep deprived as he was, he may have been able to ignore the comments like any other time. But today he just couldn't. So he started to dig. It took awhile, in the beginning everything seemed to add up in his medical records and in the few pictures he found from his childhood. Until he saw picture from the time before he was almost two.

The kid there looked somewhat similar, but distinctly different. He started to dig deeper into this time frame. It was on one of the few trips where his parents had still taken him with them, that he saw it. In the beginning of the trip the almost doppelganger was with his parents, until it was suddenly him. And it didn’t take long to find a few pictures with people in the background. At first there were two eccentric looking adults with a little kid, a boy – whom looked like him and later on he saw them again, but this time he and the boy had swapped.

His parents had bartered him from the couple. He wasn't a Drake. Not even Tim. The other boy who had been with the strange couple in the last few pictures was Tim Drake.

Who was he...?

[regonold]

Danny gets deaged and heads to Gotham to find jazz at collage there's only one problem he knows where the collage is just now where jazz's class is

Enter one bruce wayne who genuinely just so happened to be there (he's pulling a brucie wayme stunt) seeing a small kid looking around worried so what does the serial adopter do? Well he goes up to the kid of course crouching down to ask if he's ok whats his name wheres his parents or siblings?

Now jazz, jazz all but raised danny she protected him from a young age and helped him with anything he needed and durimg her time at collage she had worried for him, with the amount of bull her parents spouted she wouldn't be surprised if danny up and left

So imagine her surprise when she spotted her baby brother de aged talking to some stranger and at that moment every instinct flared and she remembered every warning she read or heard about Gotham and she acted

Danny was just looking for his sister when some guy crouched down to talk with him after asking some questions danny heard a sound he was familiar with jazz running

Bruce really wasn't expecting to be kicked for trying to help a kid

Artistic representation of jazz kicking bruce\/

[swiggity-swexual-i-am-asexual]

Basically, it’s discovered that to help stabilize Danielle, aka Ellie, it’d be best to have her be smaller. She refused to be turned into a kid by Frostbite/her own power ability, when Danny remembered the shrink ray his parents made. The side effect is that they’re kind of stuck as humans when they’re that small—they can use some ghost powers, but basically, it’s a weird side effect of the shrink ray. That’s canon, by the fucking way, lmao

Anyways, so Ellie agrees, and Danny will shrink himself with the ray to her size to help her out when needed/when she wants company her size, with Jazz, Sam, and Tucker occasionally helping out. Sam buys one of those really ornate Victorian dollhouses, with wooden everything, and Danny does some… renovations… so that it no longer opens and is a proper house. There’s still some oddities because it’s a dollhouse originally, but it was easier and faster to give her a home. One of the first additions was a water/wastewater system, followed like two hours later by an electrical system. Since it was so small, Danny was able to do it fairly quickly in his big size, occasionally going small and using the small window for using his powers to double check on things.

The water system had to be refilled every week, unless hooked up to a plumbing system in a house, which Danny made some outlets for in Jazz’s room—it was easier and had significantly less questions/didn’t stand out as much if placed in Jazz’s room. They usually did it every three days, though, as the plug-in process was still a bit… hinky. The tanks for holding the water were in the ‘basement’, which was mostly inaccessible from the inside of the dollhouse but basically looked like a big stand the dollhouse stayed on. Like someone ripped a full house out of the ground WITH the basement attached. There was a small access hallway down some stairs in the house for the clean water system, though.

The electric system was fairly simple, as it didn’t cost much energy to light a dollhouse and heat/cool water. There was an AC unit, Ellie’s request, but it hardly was used and was fairly efficient just due to pure size. It was fueled by ecto batteries, which Danny made sure had a few rechargability options—just because it was efficient energy didn’t mean it didn’t ever need recharging. There was a very small ecto filter, but due to its relative small size, was easy to clean and was fairly stable, so they had a whole closet of them just chilling out, both filled and empty. The battery itself could be charged by ecto sources, Danny’s own blood, or ambient ectoplasm gained by using something that looked like a solar panel and a satellite dish had a child that the batter could be placed in. The hookup also allowed for like… normal D cell batteries.

They would buy dollhouse furniture, and occasionally just buy the big version then shrink it down. Ellie had a huge old house to herself, basically, might as well go ham. And she had a fun time with the designer doll clothes Sam liked to get, although the cheap doll clothes from the store were also fun. Best option was just buying normal clothes and shrinking them, but using things that were already small or just making stuff using normal sized objects was fun.

At some point, though, the Fenton siblings decide to go on a trip. Ellie begs to be taken along, and Jazz agrees—there’s a doll showcase in Gotham, and Jazz wanted to see if anything caught Ellie’s interest. Danny, having a room in the dollhouse himself, also went along. Might as well make it a sibling’s trip, right?

Ellie can be full size for small chunks of time, which they did while exploring the expo. They found some cool things to add, and some doll clothes Ellie was far too interested in trying on, as well as some to force on Danny later. He sighed, but like—that’s his little cousin-sister, he’d put up with it. After all, he learned how to plumb an entire (miniature) house in two days when she refused to move in until it had a fully functional bathroom, so.

Anyways!

They have a fun time, and sure, lugging the relatively giant dollhouse was a PAIN, but it was Ellie’s home, and some stabilizing tech made it relatively safe to move without risking everything freaking breaking. They load everything in again, and the dollhouse is now restocked with clothes, tiny furniture, and a lot of shrunken supplies—some foods are just hard to work with full size, and are easier to shrink, okay? Also soap, paper goods, pencils and pens, books, etc. Jazz loads the thing into her car, and Danny offers to stay with Ellie in the dollhouse—so Jazz gets them in, and shrinks them down, holding onto the shrink ray in the meantime.

All is going relatively well in Gotham traffic until there’s a rogue attack.

Go figure.

Jazz ends up unconscious, and Danny and Ellie can’t do anything before the rogue is taken care of and a paramedic team comes up. They hide back in the dollhouse, listening as the medics say she seems to be okay, just unconscious. A relief, but now they’re taking Jazz away. Fenton luck states she’s one of the few actually injured. The Bat Brigade comes by, and Batman notices that there’s a wallet for one Danny Fenton. Red Robin confirms that Jazz was likely here with at least two other people, based on the ticket stubs for the expo. However, there is a strange lack of social media presence, Danny doesn’t have a photo ID, and there’s no way of knowing for SURE that it was just Danny with her, if it was just two other people, or if Danny was in the car with her. Still, as they can’t find him but DO have his sister and his wallet, they assume he might be missing, possibly kidnapped.

The Gotham PD of course take in the car, although it’s pretty trashed. Knowing well and good that the dollhouse and such things are actually quite expensive, Commissioner Gordon mentions that it wouldn’t be a bad idea for Batman to maybe hold onto the Fenton’s things that *aren’t* related to the investigation.

Batman just takes everything. Including a rather peculiar looking gun that seems to have sustained some damage during the attack and car crash.

Gordon sighs. Figures.

So, Danny and Ellie end up in Wayne Manor. Most of the things end up in the Batcave, but Alfred insists that they place the doll things upstairs in the manor proper—the cave isn’t *that* damp, but doll things are small and delicate. So, upstairs they go.

At first, it’s fine. Danny and Ellie are fine in the dollhouse, and it’ll be at least a week before any of the systems NEED to be worked with.

Then Ellie ends up with a massive migraine. She gets them, on occasion, a sort of growing pain. Usually, they just shrink some medicine for her as she needs it, because she’s like—twelve. While they did have some medicine that had been pre-shrunk, when they were stocking up in Gotham, it turns out pain medicine was more expensive there. Not by much, but they figured—they’ll just stock up in Amity Park, they’ll be there in two days.

Haha. Nope.

So, Danny finally has to venture out. He lucks into finding the first aid kit—why there was one in the main living room, he’s not sure—and is currently working on trying to get open the blister packet of an ibuprofen when Alfred finds him.

Alfred stares at this tiny boy with a tiny make-shift knife trying to get into… over the counter pain medication.

Danny stares at this butler guy who had very gently cleaned the outside and noted the strange fact that the dollhouse did not open.

Danny waves at Alfred.

Alfred waves a tiny finger back.

“Hello,” Alfred says softly, which is fantastic because loud noises could get painful—part of the reason for Ellie’s headache was an argument between Tim and Damian. “How do you do?”

Danny hesitates, before he makes an exaggerated so-so gesture.

“You understand me?”

Danny nods—it’s rare for people to understand what he’s saying when he’s 5 inches tall.

“How wonderful,” Alfred smiles. “And how can I help our young guest tonight?”

Danny gestures to the blister packet.

“Pain medication? Isn’t that a little bit large for you.”

The teen thinks for a second on how to communicate. He points to the pill, then makes a slight show of pretending to grind something, like a mortar and pestle.

Thankfully, Alfred got the idea. “Would it be easier if I ground it up for you?”

Danny takes a moment to think before accepting with an enthusiastic nod.

“Very well,” Alfred says, taking the blister packet in one hand. He then hold his other out, palm up, like a platform. “Would you like to come with me?”

Danny ‘his survival instincts died when he did’ Fenton gets into Alfred’s hand.

Alfred grinds up the pill into a fine powder. Danny hands him a tiny bottle—still large in Danny’s hands, as it was not a shrunk bottle—that he had tied around his waist. Alfred fills it, and hands it back.

“I assume you came from the tiny house we have in our living room?”

Danny again nods. Alfred takes him there, setting him down outside the front door. Danny bows, and sure it’s Japanese as hell, and he’s white as all get out, but it’s a generally understood gesture of thanks. He hopes.

Alfred understands it just fine. “I bid you goodnight, then. Perhaps we will talk more, when you are feeling better?”

Danny hesitates, again, but he nods. Alfred had been nice enough, so far.

Danny heads in, quickly measuring out the medicine—shrunk pressure plates and scales and weights made what it was measuring relative—to him the weights on the hand balance scale felt the same weight. Ellie got her medicine, and they both went back to sleep.

He told her in the morning what happened. Ellie was strangely gung-ho about meeting this butler guy, and so—when no one else was around—, she and Danny went onto the tiny balcony as Alfred came in to dust.

“Oh my,” he said. “There’s two of you, now. Should I expect more?”

Both of them did an exaggerated ‘no’ dance.

“Very well, I don’t believe I’ve introduced myself. I’m Alfred Pennyworth, the family butler. Welcome to Wayne Manor.”

[reredaydreams]

A Pierce through the Heart || Jeon Jungkook

When you go to get your nipple pierced, but something else gets pierced too (it’s a metaphor, if you know what I mean).

Paring: tattoo artist (& piercer) jk x reader

Warning: this story contains mature content, 18+

Content: smut, fluff, oral!f receiving, tit sucking, fingering, doggy style, missionary, squirting, love at first sight?, nipple piercing, unprotected sex, light dirty talk, eating out, after care, edging

Wc: 6k

It was past seven in the evening by the time you entered the tattoo shop, the cool ventilation of the air conditioner giving you relief from the hot summer weather, welcoming your way into the shop. The chilled environment sent tiny shivers down your body, a result of wearing a white tank top, accompanied by a flowy, black skirt with a red lace ribbon tied around your waist as a belt, and a tote bag hanging off your shoulder. All clothes that equipped you for the weather outside.

You glanced around the empty space, it was different from the typical tattoo shop. It felt more artistic than edgy as you would expect from a place like this. Pictures of tattoos done in different colours were hung on the walls accompanied by abstract paintings. Most odd of all, little bonsai trees, a lot of them decorated the brown and white interior alongside the casual furniture expected in a tattoo shop.

“Welcome. I’ll be right there with you in a moment,” an oddly familiar, low, melodious voice made its way to your ears. Turning your gaze to the source, you saw a man wearing a tank top, with washed denim jeans standing with his back to you, doing something on a table further into the shop. He was the only other person here.

Your eyebrows arched up, pupils enlarging as the man turned towards you, his face coming into view, a similar expression masking his face once he glanced upon you.

“Y/n,” a low whisper left his mouth, as he made his way to you, a shine displayed in his eyes. “A, hey! We met at the bar last week, I don’t know if you rem—,”

“I remember, Jungkook?” You cut him off, confirming that the memory of the encounter was still in your thoughts, before taking a pause and uttering his name in a way of looking for confirmation that you recalled correctly. He nodded with a small smile on his lips, having been glad to know you still remembered him.

Oh, you knew it was jungkook, a name of a person who had occupied your brain since the moment you met him last week. His voice still lingering in your ears while his pretty face became a beautiful scenery for your closed eyes.

It was a Friday evening, following a long and hectic week at work when you, along with your best friend, had decided to go to a jazz bar to relax and enjoy the day going into the weekend.

The bar was lit with rich and warm lighting, giving it a cosy environment, accompanied by a local band playing some tunes on the small stage. Some people danced, swaying to the music, letting go of the stresses of the week, while others enjoyed the delicious food and drinks offered at the place.

You and Yeri, your best friend, sat on the high stool tables placed along the border of the bar, as you both sipped away at your drinks, talking about all the random topics that came to mind.

“So basically, he allows them to take his brain cells and send them to space, in the trajectory of the coming aliens, so that they would seek out to capture the spaceship, and we will be closer to the aliens, and learn stuff about them,” you sloppily explain the plot of a recent sci-fi series you have been watching.

“But are a single clump of cells really a human, though?” Yeri asked, taking a sip of her drink. “Right, I don’t think so, but the aliens probably have some technology to rebuild the human, and maybe retain some information,” you tried to make the objective of this move clearer.

“That makes me wonder, though, the concept of having a soul, does it really exist? Or, for the fact where? Is it in your body?” You thought out loud to your friend, swirling the glass of wine in your hand, as your mind delved further on the concept. “I’m not sure, that’s a deep question,” Yeri acknowledged.

“Ya. It’s just that, a ‘soul’ just feels celestial, like the concepts of magic, or a god, rather than something so humanly connected to the body,” you completed your thought, receiving another hum in response, followed by a comfortable silenced engulfing the air around you both, as your minds swam in the ocean of your thoughts.

After a few minutes, Yeri’s voice broke you out of your trance, “wanna go dance, to loosen up a bit?” She suggested. “It’s okay, you go ahead, I’ll rest here for a bit,” you assured her with a small smile.

“Okay! I’ll be back in a while,” Yeri conveyed as she quickly gulped down her glass of alcohol and eagerly made her way to where others were enjoying the music.

You shook your head at your friends' actions, as a small laugh left your mouth. You knew exactly why she wanted to go dance; something or perhaps someone had caught her eyes.

You went back to playing with your glass, as your mind was ready to set forth on a journey of thoughts, but as soon as Yeri set out on her way, a melodious voice cut through the air, making its way to your ears.

“I agree with you. It truly does feel something celestial, something so magical,” the person voiced out their thought turning to lock their eyes with yours, confirming that they were, in fact talking to you. “The ‘soul,’ that is.”

Your breath almost hitched, as your eyes laid upon the man in front of you; god, he was gorgeous. The cute plump lips, where a small smile casted upon them, the bread like cheeks, that looked so soft, and those chocolatey brown eyes that shone as they gaze upon you behind those black, clear glasses, were just so captivating.

His soft wavy hair fell just below his jaw, slight hints of an undercut peeking through, while a few strands of hair strayed to his forehead. Your eyes travelled down his body; he was wearing a black leather jacket, opened to give a glimpse at the white compression shirt underneath that highlighted his muscular body even more. The trails of ink that travelled from beneath his jacket, caressing the skin of his slender hands, and the piercings that marked his body, the ones on his ears, and especially the one that traced under his shirt, just added to his already breathtaking beauty.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to eavesdrop. It’s just that the topic you were discussing was so intriguing, I couldn’t help but to overhear,” he said, breaking you out of your trance of gawking at him. A worried smile masked his lips but yet a hopefulness sparked in his eyes.

“Oh, it’s all good. I love having conversations on such topics, and you said you found it intriguing, so, why don’t you tell me more of your thoughts on it?” You assured him invitingly, placing your elbow on the counter, leaning your head into the palm, giving him your undivided attention.

“Well…”

You didn’t know when an hour and half passed, as you got lost in the rhythm of his words, and the ocean of thought as you both bounced off of each other’s questions, travelling through topics, from space to philosophy, sharing your own intellects.

His way of words was so enchanting, continuing the conversation in a way that never let your attention deviate away from him. His presence was comfortable, as if talking to a friend you haven’t seen in a long time. His eyes were calm, making a safe space for you to share your opinions. In this small time you spent with him, you knew one thing for sure, you wanted to keep talking to him.

As you finished a passage to a point he had brought up, you laid your arm out on the table, causally in his direction, resting your head on your biceps, letting a soothing silence engulf the space, while the voices and music blurred in the background.

He took a sip of his drink to hydrate his throat that had become dry from all the talking, as he observed your movements from his peripheral vision. Once settling down his glass, he followed suit, resting his head on his arms on the counter.

You saw his hand gradually travelling to your hand, as his fingers intervened with yours, playing with them gently, caressing them in between. All the while his gaze remained deep into your eyes, displaying unsaid emotions clearly.

You closed your eyes, feeling his soft touches on your skin, his warmth feeling as if you were laying under the sun on a breezy summer day, his perfume adding to the image, as the citrusy, yet fresh smell painted a picture of a serene ocean in your mind with every deep breath you took.

As you were lost in the solace of the moment, another thought struck your mind; you didn’t know the name of this beautiful man in front of you.

“I’m sorry, all the while we were talking, I didn’t even bother asking your name,” you spoke out, opening your eyes to meet those that were still looking at you in the same manner as before. He observed the tiny frown tugging at the corner of your lips. “Jungkook, Jeon Jungkook,” he relayed with a tender smile. “And don’t be sorry, I didn’t have the courtesy to ask the name of such a beautiful woman either,” he conveyed with a small pout.

A small laugh escaped your lips, before you informed him of your name. “Y/n,” he repeated with such familiarity, as if the name was made specifically for his mouth. He parted his lips once more to say something, but was interrupted by Yeri’s voice, making you both sit up straight.

“Y/nie,” she cooed, circling her arms around your shoulders, resting her head against your back. She was drunk. You held on to her arms, worried about your friend, you inquired, “are you okay Yeri? Is everything alright?”

“Hmm, yess, yess, I just wanna go home,” she whined. You were used to this, as you were like the mother of your friend group, always taking care of everyone out of your love for them.

You guided her arms to unwrap around you, standing up, holding on to her arm to keep her steady. You turned to look at Jungkook, who was already gazing at you warmly, admiring the way you took care of your friend.

“I’m sorry, I’ll have to head out now,” you spoke out, your eyebrows creasing in slight displeasure as you still wanted to continue to talk to him. “Oh, it’s alright, but before you go, could I get—,” as jungkook was about to complete his sentence, Yeri began to drag you outside, and all you could do was look back at him with an apologetic expression, as he did his best to assure you with his smile, waving you bye.

You couldn’t help but smile at the memories of that night, and how Yeri kept apologising to you for her behaviour that night, and accidentally preventing you from getting his number. She felt so guilty, even trying to find him for you on social media platforms, but it was no use. However, you guaranteed her that it wasn’t her fault, and maybe that connection you felt with Jungkook that night wasn’t meant to be anything more, but who knew, you would run into him again like this.

You looked up to meet his eyes, that were busy admiring your look, travelling down your body, respectfully of course. You observed that he wasn’t wearing any pair of glasses today.

“I’m sorry, for leaving so abruptly that day,” you said, bringing his attention back to your face. “Oh, no no, I totally understand,” he shook his head to make his point, while a small blush crept on his cheeks, having been caught in the act of checking you out.

“So, how can I help you today?” He questioned, clearing his throat. “Oh, right, I had booked an appointment for a piercing,” you explained.

“Yes yes, you are my last appointment for the day. So, what type of piercing are you planning to get today?” He asked, recalling his schedule.

“A nipple piercing,” you said nonchalantly, tilting your head to the side a bit, as you gazed upon him.

His eyebrows slightly raised, pupils enlarging, as he visibly gulped, a slight red hue appeared on cheeks. He looked so cute with the nervous expression that masked his face, causing a mischievous look to play in your eyes.

“You do those, right?” you playfully inquired, acting as if you weren't fully sure, but you had already confirmed with a person on the phone earlier. “We do. Follow me this way,” he guided, slowly picking up on your teasing.

He led you to a back room, in which there was a tattooing chair situated beside a table with some tools, and a couch on the other side. The space still aligned with the overall warm and brown theme of the shop, while there were once again, small bonsai plants decorating the room.

You walked over to a table that stood beside the couch, adorned with the plant on top, observing it closely while you waited for Jungkook to come back from washing his hands.

“My business partner really loves nature, so he decorated the whole studio with these plants,” Jungkook explained, having seen you looking keenly at the plant while walking in. You hummed in response, turning to meet his eyes, which held eye contact with you for a moment, before turning to the equipment on the table.

“Please, take off your upper garments and lay comfortably on this chair,” he instructed, motioning towards the chair next to the table where he was standing, his eyes still directed towards the tools in his hands.

You began lifting up your tank top ever so slowly to tease him, knowing that he could see you from his peripheral vision. Unhooking your bar, you left it on the couch, along with your tank top. Following his instructions you got into a comfortable position on the chair. He made his way to you, taking a seat on the stool beside the tattooing chair.

“So, you want one piercing on the left side?” he questioned, to confirm once again, looking directly into your eyes. You gave him a small nod, his eyes travelling down to your chest, lingering there for a moment, before meeting your eyes once again.

“Hmm, the nipple needs to be erect when it is pierced, usually we use a clamp, which can be a bit painful, however, I have another method to make it erect,” jungkook informed, maintaining eye contact with you, while a small smirk rested on his lips. “You want to try that, y/n?” He asked, with a till of the head.

“Yes,” a low whisper left your lips, followed by his hand tracing down your neck to your left nipple, his index finger tracing circles around the areola. His face came closer to your chest, his breath fanning your upper boob, lips just inches from touching your skin.

His eyes turned up to meet yours, asking for permission with an arch of the eyebrow. With a small grin you indicate your interest, your hand travelling to the back of his neck, gently wrapping around it as he peeked out his tongue, licking from its bottom to top. He kept circling it around the nipple, licking it in between, causing a small whine to leave your mouth due to his teasing.

He finally latched his lips onto the now already hard nipple, sucking on it enticingly, rolling it around in between his teeth. His one hand went to the other one, gently rubbing it with his thumb. It felt good, low moans leaving your mouth. After a while, he pulled away, a string of saliva connected his lips to your boob.

He grabbed a tissue, cleaning the liquid, before grabbing an alcohol wipe to clean the nipple that was now prominent. He marked it as you had asked, grabbing a sterilized needle, and quickly piercing it, and inserting a small rod with a ball on one side through the hole, connecting another one on the other end.

“There you go, all done,” he declared, putting the supplies back on the table before turning back to you. Your eyes were on him, looking at him with intent and lust, indicating that you wanted something more, just like he did. He brought his face just inches away from yours, looking deep into your eyes, while a small, playful smile rested on his lips.

“Y/n, do you want this?” He questioned. You knew what he was insinuating, it made you a little annoyed that he was asking you such a question when he clearly knew the answer.

Your hand makes its way to his torso, feeling his toned abs hiding under his top, before walking your fingers to his chest, just above his heart. You probed around the area, playing with the piercing that was there for a moment, and then continuing your way to his shoulder. You gently wrapped your fingers around his neck, pulling him in closer as if to kiss him, but instead you glided your lips to his ears, leaving him a bit disappointed.

“I do, but do you?” You whisper into his ear. He snaked his arm around your waist, his grip tight as if he was scared that you would back out. “Oh, you don’t know,” his voice came out in a low whisper, a desperation lacing it. “I have wanted this since I first laid my eyes on you,” and as those words left his mouth, his lips were on your jaw, trailing sloppy kisses along the bone, exploring down to your neck and sucking on it passionately.

He guided your legs to wrap around his waist, picking you up and bringing you to the couch that was in the corner of the room, while being careful of your new piercing. Laying your body on the couch, he backed away from your neck, his hand going the waistband of your skirt, gliding them off your body, along with your panties and discarding them on the floor.

He made his way between your legs, taking a moment to admire your body that just looked so divine to his eyes. He wanted a taste so bad, he just couldn’t hold himself back anymore. He pinned your one arm above your head, going in to suck on your nipple that remained unpierced, while his free hand made its way to your clit, rubbing between the pussy lips in an up and down motion. A sound of satisfaction left your mouth, having gotten him where you needed the most.

He continued to make out with your tit in greed, before trailing warm kisses to your stomach, down to your pelvis. He pulled away, spreading your lips to look at your needy pussy. “So pretty, baby,” he commented, admiring it with a lustful gaze. “So wet for me already,” he teased, going in to devour all of you, causing a whine to leave your mouth.

His tongue rubbed circles around your clit, flicking the nerve in between, before his lips wrapped around it, sucking on it in hunger. He iterated on these motions, sending you into a bliss, and ohh, when he inserted his fingers into you, pumping them in and out, it drove you over the edge as your thighs squirmed around his head riding out the orgasm on his mouth.

He pulled away, sitting on his knees, in between your legs, gazing down at your body in adoration, satisfaction masking his face at the observation of the effects he had on you. Your chest raised up and down assisting the flow of your quick breaths, as you catched a breath after your high, while a tiny layer of sweat coated your forehead.

Your eyes remained fixed on him, as he brought his fingers, covered in your cum, to your lips, sticking his fingers in and exploring your mouth, pushing down on your tongue hitting the back of your throat. You gagged at the motion, sucking his fingers obediently not breaking eye contact. He pulled away and licked the rest up, devouring it clean. A hum of content left his mouth at the delicious taste produced by the both of you, all the while his eyes remained locked with yours, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

He brought his hand to the sides of his tank top, pulling it above his head and discarding them on the floor, along with your clothes. Your eyes now came in view of the Calvin Klein underwear that peeked from under his jeans, and that nipple piercing that had been teasing you for the longest, looked even better on him than you imagined. It was so vulgar, in the best way possible. You bit your lower lip, as the view made your insides feel even more warm.

He quickly followed by removing his lower garments, leaving you with the perfect view of his naked body. God damn— it was so hot and big…

“On your knees, babe,” Jungkook commanded, guiding you to your front with a hand on the hip. “I want to take you from the back,” he expressed, the words sounding so lewd as they came out of his mouth, causing a whimper to leave your mouth as his hand gripped your ass. His chest pressed against your back, as he left kisses on the base of your neck, before tracing his hand along your figure to your ass. He placed a playful slap against it, as your whine made its way to his ears, feeling you press your butt to his crotch. “Getting needy, aren’t we?” he teased, as he delivered another slap.

He’s acting as if he just didn’t eat you out like his life depended on it moments ago, you thought. “Why? Aren't you needy for me too?” you questioned, looking back at him with a pout, giving him the doe eyes. “If you don’t want this, then–” you teased him back, pretending to crawl away, but he didn’t let you as he gripped onto your hip, pulling you against him once more, bringing his face next to yours, over the shoulder. “Hey! You’re not going anywhere,” he groaned into your ear.

His fingers pushed your hair aside from your face, tucking them behind your ear and giving him a clear view of your gorgeous face. “Do you feel that?” he questioned, pressing his erect cock against your pussy, rubbing it against your slit, lubricating with your wetness. “Do you feel how hard it is?” he elaborated, placing a kiss on your jaw. “This is all your fault, you make me like this. You will help me with my problem, right babe?” he asked, giving you a curated pair of puppy eyes, as his lips protruded out, forming a small out pout.

You hum in response, a smirk tugging at the corner of your mouth, feeling the effect that you had on him. He trails a string of kisses along your neck, to your shoulder blade, leaving a soft bit mark against it. He guided his cock to align with your entrance, causing a hiss to leave your mouth at the burn of the stretch. “It's okay, darling. You can take it,” he encouraged, rubbing circles on your back in a soothing motion.

It was a tight fit. You hadn’t had such a stretch before, but it felt good, and full. “Is it better? Should I start moving now?” he asked, once his cock was fully nestled within you. You let out low ‘yes’, as he began to glide inside your walls.

At first the movements were more slow, and passionate, but they soon became more intense, aggressive, and lustfull, as his mind clouded with a hunger for you. But that wasn’t enough, you needed him even deeper than he was, causing you to push back onto his cock as he pounded into you. These movements added to the pleasure for both of you, not shying away from vocalising it, and neither did he, as your voices blended together, echoing through the room.

It became too much to handle, and soon enough you released the built up tension in your stomach. The walls of your pussy contracted around his cock, a low, moan of pleasure leaving his lips, sending him to a bliss, causing him to pull out, as you felt a warm, and moist liquid spray against your lower back.

Your legs give out, as you let your body fall on to the couch, trying to catch your breath after your second orgasm of the day. You felt him lay his body against your back, the sounds of his fastened breaths making their way to your ears. Just the feeling of the pulses of your pussy on his cock that pressed against your clit was so arousing to him that it didn’t take him long to become erect once again.

He pushed his body away from yours, pulling you to your front by your waist, gripping on to your thighs, spreading your legs apart, situating himself between your legs once again. “Round two?” he questioned, with an arch of a brow, while a sly grin played on his lips, causing a small laugh to leave your mouth.

He again aligned himself with your entrance, pushing in more easily, as he began moving into you, this time with a sloppish movement. Your hand drawed up his tattooed arm, gliding your way over his collarbone, and onto his piercing. You rubbed it between your fingers, before giving it a pinch, causing a groan to leave his mouth.

“Sensitive here, aren’t we?” you teased, as he gave you a narrowed look, causing a smirk to appear upon your lips. However, it didn’t remain there for long, as you moaned out in pleasure, as he picked up pace, his movements becoming more intense, fervent, and delightful.

You were getting close, close to your release. The in and out motion of his thrusts, his balls slapping against your skin, his cock grazing against the wet and silky walls of your pussy, his fingers rubbing circles on your clit, all these actions combined to serve you pleasure, sending you into ecstasy. Your body didn’t shy away from vocalising this, as the sound of satisfaction left your mouth ringing through the room, travelling to his ears, making him want to keep on hearing more.

The fingers that were on your clit, now glided up your stomach, the patterning of his cold fingertips sending shivers through your figure, yet your body burned from warmth. A faint, dewy trail of your juices was left behind, fading into the skin as his fingers reached your non-pierced tit. He circled his finger around the nipple, before pinching it and then twisting the bud around, causing a cry due to the arousement leaving your mouth, as your body squirmed to the side, though the grope of his hand on your boob prevented you from moving any further, forcing you to recline back to your original place.

“Relax, Babe,” Jungkook encouraged, rubbing patterns on your stomach, pressing on it gently. “I got you,” he cooed, gazing into your half open, dazy eyes, as he lowered the intensity of his thrusts, earning a whine of disapproval from you. However, he ignored it, and continued to deliver delightfull pressure to your pussy through a slow and passionate gliding motion.

Your hair was scattered on the surface of the couch around your head, while a few strands strayed to your forehead and cheek. Jungkook reached his hand forward and moved the pieces of hair away from your face and tucked them behind your ear. His fingers pursue to trace the side of your face, along your jawline, coming to a stop at the corner of your lips. His fingertip caressed your lips, feeling the soft texture, while the movements of his lower body gradually came to a stop, leaving himself buried inside of you.

A whiny cry left your throat at his tactic for getting what he desired. It was simple: you give him what he wants, and you get what you want. He wanted to kiss you, kiss those juicy lips of yours, feeling the softness against his own, while devouring you whole. You wanted him to please you more, to go harder, to let you have your release, and send you into a bliss. You knew that he wasn't going to fulfil your wish until you let him fulfil his need.

Jungkook rubbed his thumb against your lower lip, while his fingers caressed the sides of your cheek. His thumb came to a rest, as he looked into your eyes with burning intensity, asking permission to carry on with what he was thinking. In a swift motion, you pulled on his arm, bringing his face just inches away from yours. You cupped his face in your hands, fingers stretching to the sides of his neck, while your thumb pressed against his cheeks.

“Jungkook,” you whispered in a seductive tone, meeting his eyes with a craving, your breath fanning his skin, “please, fuck me. Fuck me harder.”

Just as those words left your mouth, Jungkook’s lips were locked with yours in a lustful kiss, tongues tangling together in the moist environment. There was hunger behind the kiss, an aggression to feel one another as close as possible.

Jungkook’s hand travelled to the nape of your neck, grabbing a hold of it and pulling you closer, as if you both weren’t already moulded together. Your arms snaked around his neck, pressing your bodies up to one another, as he began to drive into you once again, but this time with a much greater intensity. His speed continued to increase as you moaned into his mouth. He trailed kissing along your jaw and down your neck, leaving marks he will adore later.

“Mhm, you feel so good,” the words flowed out of your mouth in ecstasy, followed by a sting of moans. “Then cum for me, Darling. Show me how good I am making you feel,” he commanded, moving back to admire your disoriented state, in his eyes you were the most gorgeous being he had ever seen.

Soon enough you came, clenching around his cock, as your insides pulsed against his skin. However, he didn’t stop, he continued to pound your pussy, making loud sounds of pleasure leave your mouth. His eyes travelled down your body, to the place where your bodies connected. A few dribbles of squirt rained out of you due to the overstimulation.

“Fuck, you're so beautiful,” he declared, feeling himself close to his climax. With a few more strokes he pulled out, releasing over your stomach, leaving it a mess in his liquid.

He let his body relax, laying half of his body beside you, while the other half rested against you, as he laid his head on your chests, hugging your body close to him. Your arms wrapped around his shoulder, to feel his warmth around you, while you both regained your breathing. You both remained in this position, feeling a sense of calm in each other's presence, after that exhilarating session.

After a few minutes, Jungkook lifted up his body, his arms straight as he rested his palms on either side of your body, caging you within. He gave you a tender smile, before leaning in to kiss your cheek, whispering a ‘I’ll be right back into your ear. You gave him a lazy smile as he pulled out, getting off the couch, and leaving the room.

A while later, he walked back in, having cleaned himself up of the sticky substances. He made his way to where you were laying, and cleaned you up with a wet towel he had brought, before disposing of it.

“Here, put this on,” he said, while handing you a big white shirt. “Your tank top will rub on your piercing, causing irritation, so wear this to prevent it,” he explained. You already knew this information, that’s why you had carried a loose t-shirt in your bag when making your way here, but you didn’t tell him this and just took the piece of clothing from him.

Jungkook moved to collect his discarded clothes from earlier, as your eyes followed his every movement, while you sat up on the couch. He could feel your stares on him, so he made sure to look extra sexy for you, when putting his clothes back on.

Once finished, he moved back towards you, spreading your thighs apart slightly, before intervening his legs in between them. He gently grabbed the shirt from your hands, which you had done no effort to put on, and helped you wear it himself.

Once the fabric was settled on your body, he placed his arms around your neck, leaning in slightly to look into your eyes with an emotion that you couldn’t quite discern. You both remained in silence, just looking into the depths of each other's eyes, before you decided to speak up.

“So,” you began. “Do you give this special treatment to all your customers?” you teasingly inquired, keenly looking forward to his response.

“No,” he said bluntly, looking you dead in the eye. “It’s only for my future special someone,” he informed, as there was a shine in his eyes as the statement left his mouth.

His words left you confused, and a bit shocked, as you didn’t think he would think of this anything more than a hookup after how fast things progressed today.

“Y/n” he called, breaking you away from thinking further. “I want you. I want something more, and I’m not just saying this to get in bed with you again. I truly mean it. After meeting you at the bar last week, I couldn’t stop thinking about you, and the conversation we shared. I want to have more deep talks like that, in the comfort of our own peace,” he explained, expressing his feeling.

You weren’t going to lie, you also held a similar feeling. After that meeting with him, you couldn’t stop thinking about him and the conversation you had with him. He listened to you, sharing his experiences and intellect along the way. You found a calm in his company, at the most odd place. You felt upset all this week at not having gotten his number, and at the possibility of never meeting him again, but seeing him today when you entered the shop gave you hope. A hope to get to know him better, but where today had led to made you think that your connection wasn’t meant to be something more. However, after hearing him now, a smile grew on your face. You hadn’t been the biggest believer of love at first sight before, now you just might be.

“I don’t want to put any pressure on you, I’m just saying that maybe we could try dating, go on a few dates,” he clarified, shyly averting his eyes from you, the same man that just fucked you with such intensity a while ago. Wow, the duality.

You wrapped your arms around his waist, resting your head on his torso. “Lets try it out” you replied, bringing his attention back to you. “I mean, who would be a fool enough to let go of the opportunity to potentially have such a handsome boyfriend,” you teased, looking up at him with a toothy smile, which he returned with his big bunny smile upon hearing your words.

“Then, since it's already late outside, do you want to get dinner together?” He asked.

“Let’s go,” you replied, giving a genuine smile, as you looked forward to possibilities of what lies ahead.

A/n: hey there! Hehe, I hope you enjoyed this! Your thoughts and feedback are always appreciated

[harryspet]

bambi eyes (the holiday special) r.cameron

[Warnings]soft!dark!rafe cameron x reader, daddy!rafe x little!reader older!rafe, crimeboss!rafe, NONCON, dd/lg, spoiling kink, unprotected sex, heavy on the somnophilia, ittle editing, 18+ READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

word count: 1.6k

In which it's your first Christmas Eve with your Daddy, you don't know what you want but Rafe surely does.

main masterlist

bambi eyes masterlist

You could think of three things that you wanted for Christmas. Colored pencils, glitter lipgloss, and a small stuffed animal for Bunny. You don’t need any more clothes. You’d been with Rafe for over a month, and there were still clothes in your wardrobe that you had not worn yet. Your room was heaven, with the softest sheets and pillows, and Rafe bought you even more playthings each week. 

Your last gift was a diamond bracelet Rafe gave you because of how well you behaved in front of his friend, Barry. He didn’t punish you for sneaking around downstairs. All you had to do was bring him a slice of cake and sit down on Rafe’s lap while the two of them talked about “getting rid of their problem.” 

There were several trees around the house, but the biggest one was in the living room, by the fireplace, and it was at least two times your height. There were at least twenty presents underneath the tree already, wrapped neatly in paper that was decorated with pink snowflakes. In cozy reindeer pajamas, ones Rafe had also purchased, you sat near the tree checking over your letter to Santa. Although you had a feeling Rafe might secretly be Santa, you let a small part of you believe it was real magic. 

Lana helped you write the letter, and now you were adding a few drawings and stickers to really jazz it up. It took you longer to write it than Rafe preferred, it was already Christmas Eve, but if Santa could somehow bring you exactly what you wanted tomorrow, you’d really believe in him. 

“You almost finished, baby?” 

You looked up to see Rafe entering the living room, most likely finished with his work day, “I couldn’t think of anything else to ask for,” You said quietly, remembering how much Rafe encouraged you to ask for absolutely anything. The truth was you never had anything so you didn’t know what to ask for, “I don’t think I need anything else. But I wrote a nice letter for Santa and I thanked him for everything he does. And I made it sparkly.”

Rafe made himself comfortable on the couch and you brought over your letter, “C’mere,” He said, pulling your legs over his lap before wrapping one arm around you, “This is beautiful work, kid. Santa is going to love it.”

You looked up at him, a smile on his face as he read the words over, “What did you ask Santa for, Daddy?”

“Well, since I already have you,” He squeezed you, making your heart leap in your chest, “I asked Santa to make sure that you have the best Christmas. That you’ll love every gift you get and we’ll have a nice, Christmas dinner.”

You smiled back at him, “I wish I could buy you something, Daddy.”

“No need,” Rafe leaned in to kiss the side of your forehead, “I like giving to you, and I have plenty of money for the both of us. Besides, you’re way too little.” 

When Rafe looked at you, he really looked at you. He held your face in his hands, not tight enough to bruise, so you wouldn’t look away. You were still learning not to feel shy under his gaze. You started to understand that you were just like the gifts sitting under the tree. You were Rafe’s gift to himself. He showed his possession of you through his gaze. 

“Your bows are a nice touch,” He complimented, taking notice of the red ribbons tied around your pigtails. Every morning you spent time doing your hair, and you were slowly learning how to do your makeup. When he noticed your efforts, you felt you were fulfilling your purpose, “And I already knew you’d look cute in your pajamas.”

Rafe liked it when you presented yourself a certain way. He liked things to be dainty and soft. He preferred small jewelry over statement pieces. Pastel colors over bright ones. And you should never have on too much makeup. Lipgloss was better than lipstick and concealer over foundation. He wanted you muted but pretty, just like your personality. 

“Thank you,” You batted your lashes. 

Rafe and you continued your cozy evening in the living room. You’d made it through the first two Home Alone movies and were now in the middle of watching The Polar Express. Rafe excused himself to the kitchen for a moment, taking the chance to prepare some hot cocoa for the two of you. 

When Rafe returned to the couch, you were sound asleep, your arms wrapped around Bunny. Quietly, he set down the cups of cocoa on the coffee table, and the thought of waking you up crossed his mind. After all, your drink would get cold, but you seemed like you were resting deeply. 

Gently, Rafe laid down next to you. You didn’t wake; you moaned softly as you turned your head, nuzzling your face into Rafe’s neck. Rafe stayed with you like this, having found a new love in sleeping next to you. He never really enjoyed next to sleeping next to anyone, until you, and he began to designate certain nights of the week where you’d stay with him in his bed. 

Watching you sleep made him think back to when he first brought you home. You still looked as innocent as ever, but there was something else Rafe liked about watching you sleep – he loved seeing you vulnerable. Obviously, you were in a constant state of being vulnerable to Rafe’s every whim and want, but this was different. 

He tested just how deeply you were sleeping, slowly taking the doll from your grasp When you stirred only slightly, Rafe continued, first touching you above your pajamas. Large, ringed fingers felt over your chest. He massaged them, kneading them, and you reacted by pressing yourself closer to him. 

Lips parted, and holding in heavy breathing, Rafe continued his exploration. He was growing harder in his briefs, imagining the look on your face when you fully opened your eyes. He licked one of his fingers and reached into your pajama bottoms and then into your panties. This was exactly why he never wanted you to wear panties to bed; they only got in his way. 

He stroked fingers up and down, feeling between your folds. Feeling the moisture there, he wondered what exactly you’d been dreaming about, “Rafe,” He heard you whisper, although when he looked down at you, your eyes were still closed. Although the stimulation was waking you, Rafe knew you were too tired to fully realize what he was doing. 

Rafe shushed you, still playing between your legs, “Is bed … time?” You mumbled as Rafe pulled his hands from your underwear, bringing his fingers to his lips. 

“Yes, sweet girl,” Rafe whispered, “Keep relaxing, Daddy’s got you.”

Rafe pulled his body from yours, moving off the couch before he gently started to pull down your reindeer bottoms.  Carefully, he removed them from around your ankles before slowly lowering himself down on top of you, “Cold … please,” You mumbled, “Daddyyy.”

“I’ve got you,” Rafe said in response to your whining; as he settled on top of you, you wrapped an arm around his neck, pulling him in like your dolly or a pillow. Meanwhile, Rafe was trying as carefully as he could to free himself from his briefs. He didn’t have to touch himself at all, he was already aching for you.

He didn’t resist anymore, pushing your underwear to the side and then pushing inside of you, his sweet girl. You were tighter, somehow, causing Rafe’s eyes to roll in pleasure, “Rafe,” He heard you, knowing you in a daze. Currently, he felt quite dazed himself. He knew with his size that he’d wake you but he didn’t account for the fact that your body might try to resist, to push him out. It just motivated him to push deeper, “Rafe. Rafe.”

Your voice was sharper now, scared almost, “You’re okay,” He cooed, “You’re …so so good, sweet girl.”

You loosened your grasp on him, and Rafe took the opportunity to see your face. You were adorable in those red bows, he noticed them first, but then he saw your scrunched-up features, a cute wince on your face. It would feel good soon, he knew that, but he certainly enjoyed seeing you resist. 

“What a fussy little girl, huh?” Rafe thrusted slowly, “Acting like you don’t like Daddy’s cock.”

With each thrust, you were trying to gain your composure, but Rafe was relentless. 

One hand, beside your head, he pressed into the couch to hold himself up, and the other, he reached down to play with your clit, “Cum one time for me,” Rafe commanded, although it was the last thing you wanted. He would give it to you anyway, wanting to see it in your face when your own body betrayed you, “One time, and you can go back to sleep.”

Rafe’s thrust was slow but consistently deep. He switched back and forth from focusing on your pleasure and his. It was difficult for him, he could finish so easily with you, but he held out; Rafe knew when you were getting closer just by the look on your face. Your head tilted back as your orgasm spread through you, and Rafe was quickly behind you. 

Rafe caught his breath, still inside of you, and moved his chest closer to yours, “You okay? You did good, Bambi.”

You nodded calmly, “Did I …Did I miss the whole movie?”

Rafe stared, bewildered for a moment, “Uh … no. We can just rewind it, baby,” He grinned, pecking your lips, “And I can just heat up the hot chocolate again.” 

Your eyes widened, “Hot chocolate like in the movie?”

“Just like the movie, my love,” Rafe’s forehead pressed to yours.

He was grateful for the fact that he could give you the perfect first Christmas tomorrow. He was even more grateful for how perfect you were.

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!!

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 177

Now Dan is no coward. He’s not. 

But this stupid child body does have an effect on his reactions to things and honestly it’s a horrible thing that’s too small and too weak for him to use all his abilities. He could barely manage a fireball if he concentrated, yet everything caught fire with a mere outburst! His control was utterly gone, and a tantrum resulted in having to wear a stupid child leash backpack. 

It wasn’t like he was really a child, and it wasn’t like he’d get lost or some stupid shit that Danny would insist. Ugh, this isn’t even fair, technically he was older than him yet was stuck in a smaller body that he kept tripping over! 

Urgh, he’s even insisting on rewarding ‘good behavior’ and shit- must have talked to Jazz or something- because… Oh. No he wants the constellation bear, give! His star bear now, no takes back and, urgh, stupid baby body! 

Well, on the other hand, it’s utterly hilarious how much Danny sputters whenever he calls him Mom, not to mention strangers’ utter befuddlement. He ignores how Danny seems to be trying his best to live up ro the title. 

But! As he was saying, he’s no coward! He’s also not an idiot though, and having no control over his powers isn’t exactly a good thing. It’s really not a good thing when there’s a murderous-looking hero that he thinks he might have maimed in the future- which they apparently remember- staring down at him. So, he has to call in the big guns to fix this. 

“Mom, there’s a creepy fruitloop staring at me!” “There’s WHAT?!” Hah. Take that hero he doesn’t remember the name of.

(Behold the Grumpiest of Babies)

[deadsetobsessions]

Woo! I’ve finally got time to write! Had to go to a wedding, suffered through eight whole hours of pure disorganized mess, and got mad about it. Emphasis on the disorganized part. So, I bring you: party planner!Danny Phantom.

——

If anyone was to see him now, they’d definitely think that it was odd that Danny was the one in the party planning field. They wouldn’t be surprised if it was Jazz, but Danny ‘wing it’ Fenton planning things? Never.

But here he was, clipboard in hand and checking off hors d’œuvres from the list.

“Anton, could you do a check of the sound system? Make sure everything’s working?”

“Got it.”

Danny lifted the buffet table, laden with heavy food, and used a bit of his ghostly strength to move it over.

“Perfect.”

He double checked the seating chart, and readjusted the miniature ice sculpture centerpieces he made for the party.

Wayne Manor was all lit up and perfectly dusted. Danny ran through his mental checklist. Tabled? Check. Dance floor clean and scuff free? Check. DJ booth and open bar running without issues? Check. Live band setting up with back up instruments and strings? Check. Decorations on point? Oh, he’ll have to get the team to readjust those.

Time to check-

“Danny! How’s it going?” Bruce Wayne beamed and slung an arm around his shoulder.

Danny smiled politely. “Mr. Wayne. Everything is going smoothly. Would you like to check the food the chefs have made?”

“Sure, sure! I definitely need to eat before I drink, haha!”

“That’s a good idea! Good thing you’re about to try a bunch of food.” Danny matched the billionaire’s energy. He’s going to get paid so good.

“So, Danny, are you going to college?”

Danny passed him a small sampler. “Ah, I can’t. Some stuff happened in high school and I don’t really have the grades or the money to.”

Plus, his credentials were in another plane of existence and he hadn’t figured out how to transfer those records yet.

“You could still attend college, I’m sure! Your parents might be able to help pay?” Bruce nommed on the food. He gave a thumbs up.

Danny sighed. “It’s not always an option. Plus, my parents are dead.”

In this universe. His own? Alive and kicking GIW ass.

“Oh, I see-”

“Father.”

“Woah!” Danny blinked, looking down at the baby Wayne the popped up next to his father’s elbow.

“Damian! What’s wrong, kiddo?”

Damian shot his father a flat glare and dragged the laughing billionaire away.

Danny snorted and returned to his tasks. He has to check the speeches and the lighting. Hm… he doesn’t have time to adjust everything how he wants it.

Good thing he knew a guy that could stop time.

“Hey, Clockwork?”

——

“Father, I understand your inclination towards adopting poor black haired and blue eyed orphans, but I would like to remind you that I have far too many siblings to be adding yet another bumbling buffoon.”

“I was not considering that, Damian.”

Damian let go of his wrist with a grimace. “Denial is not becoming of a Wayne, Father.”

“Yeah, B. I could see you grab the adoption papers from all the way over here.” Tim adjusted his tie. “Anyways, Dick is on his way. He’s running a little late because of some stuff in Blüdhaven.”

“Thank you, Tim.”

——

“Batman.”

“Oracle.”

“Look at the footage of Wayne manor.” Oracle pulled up the video surveillance scattered through out the manor. Specifically, the ones of the west ballroom. Daniel Fenton stood in his spot, looking down at his clipboard but a second later, he's moved three inches to the left and the decorations had subtly been moved more aesthetic spots. "I think Danny might be a meta. We'll have to look into him."

Batman stood up, allowing the fondness he had for Danny as Bruce Wayne drain away. This is a potential threat, and Batman will treat him like one. (Danny will remember this.)

"Contact Flash. I need him to scan for any temporal disturbance."

"Understood."

——

"Brucie!" A socialite squealed as she came to bestow hugs upon a long suffering Bruce. "My god, this place is gorgeous! You must give me your planner's number. I could absolutely use some fresh eyes for the Annual Spring Party."

"Awe, Janine! I gotta keep some of the good things to myself!" Bruce whined, inwardly smirking as he saw his kids mock-gagging behind the lady's back. "What if your party's cooler than mine? What should I do then? You're already so gorgeous! Why, is that a Birkin?"

Janine lit up and all but forgot about getting Danny's contact information. Bruce patted his own back for a job well done, even if he had to listen to Janine's itemized list of random luxury goods she had to buy before being offered a bag.

He's a Wayne. The Gotham Hermes wished they could partner with the Waynes. Plus, he's pretty sure he's got at least three of those bags somewhere in the manor to bait out Selina.

Catching Danny sliding in between the servers and going towards the kitchen, Bruce quickly excused himself with a disarming himbo grin.

Time to subtly grill the kid.

——

"Hey, Timmy?"

"Hello, Dick," Tim smiled elegantly at the couple who's companies he was about to bring six feet underground and excused himself. "What's up?"

"Have you noticed that the ice sculptures haven't melted at all?"

Tim blinked, eyes sliding over to a harried Danny being followed by Bruce on a mission. Oof.

"Freeze?" He asked mildly, face innocent of any nefarious thoughts.

"That's what I'm thinking." Dick smiled sunnily, throwing an arm around Tim's shoulders.

"Heard the guy's living out near Crime Alley. We should get Jay to check it out." Tim pretended to laugh, grinning as his brains made plans for a stakeout.

"Heard, my ass. You totally stalked him, didn't you?"

"Got proof?"

Dick snorted, removing his arm. "Nope. I'll let Jay know. You should probably help Danny out, though, he looks like he's about to lose his temper."

"Bruce is at it again." Tim sighed. "Yeah, okay."

[reallyromealone]

Title: ducky

Fandom: hazbin hotel

Pairing: Lucifer x reader

Warnings: reader is Jessica rabbit coded, make reader, sexual themes, reader hates Valentino, softcore nsfw, crack treated seriously, Lucifer is a simp, reader cross dresses, reader wears lipstick, the word daddy

Notes: the amount of rewrites boy howdy

🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️

After every show, (name) had gifts waiting from fans.

Flowers, expensive jewelry and other things were always there but one thing always stuck out to him, an adorable rubber duck dressed like him, wearing an adorable version of the show he did previously. Todays was his pink dress, the jazz singer loved cross dressing and it seemed his admirer noticed every detail of his outfits... It had him swooning! "Oh the note!" He said looking for the rose gold paper with black ink, another joke that was corny and wishing him a good day... Oh he was so wonderful!

It was the best part of his day, really it was.

Before this, his eternity was always so drab... Singing his songs and nothing of interest happening.

"It's time" one of his security guards said seriously and (name) nodded, placing the duck in his suit pocket before leaving with the men and out the back area of the club where the limo was waiting for him.

Not before catching eyes with the one person be despised and was sadly obsessed with him, Valentino smirked as he stepped out of the limo across the street as (name) got into his own faster, not wanting to deal with him especially after a performance. He couldn't stand that moth! The demon had been obsessed with (name) for years along with his little picture box friend, he remembered when they sent him molds of their erections! Disgusting!

(Name) Made sure his driver left faster, not wanting to deal with that man any more than he needed to.

"Your father requested your presence" the driver said to (name) who looked passive "what for?" He asked as a smile found its way in his face as the driver explained about some project the demon was partaking in and wanted (name)s help, the jazz demon excited to see what was taking all his father's time these days "then let's go see, shall we?"

(Name) Was not expecting some hotel on the edge of town "Hazbin hotel?" He mumbled curiously as he walked into the hotel, his driver going on his break and (name) wasn't expecting his father to be arguing with a small blond man "papa?" He asked with a passive Expression, where Alastor smiled (name) kept passive "(name)! There you are!" Alastor said dismissing the other immediately to walk to his son "how was your show little one?" He asked his son who let out a soft huff, amused "it was quite well, what's this shindig?" He gestured to the group of people and his dad grinned.

"I have someone for you to meet"

Everyone knew who (name) was, he was on every billboard across pentagram city and Angel dust knew how obsessed Vox and Valentino were with him, throwing tantrums whenever their wooing attempts went south.

But what they didn't know was that (name) was Alastors son.

"Wait son?! Sinners can't procreate?" Charlie asked curiously as Alastor laughed robotically "he was my son when I was alive, sadly I died when he was little--"'--and I was raised by grandma!" (Name) Continued and they were curious on how (name) was in hell but decided not to prod on that and now that they looked at them, they could see the resemblances.

Height being a main one, (name) just a bit shorter than his dad.

"It's a pleasure to meet you all, now why am I here?" He asked his father curiously and the radio demon grinned wider "well you see, we need someone to notice this place and what better than the most popular jazz singer in this place!" Alastor said merrily and (name) raised an eyebrow but sighed "I will on a condition" Charlie was vibrating with excitement as she nodded "whatever you want!"

"I'm looking for someone, I don't know who they are but I have a few clues" (name) pulled out the notes and the duck from his pockets "this person botherin' ya?" Husk asked suspiciously and (name) shook his head "quite the opposite actually!" Charlie and Alastor looked at each other and then the rubber duck in realization as Lucifer looked increasingly uncomfortable.

"Dad, is that your duck?" (Name) Drew his attention to the now panicking fallen angel who looked back at (name) stressed out "I think we should talk" (name) said to the blond man who followed nervously, the two going off somewhere as everyone processed what just happened.

"I can expla--" (name) stopped him with a kiss, gently holding Lucifer's face and his thumbs stroking his cheekbones before pulling back "I uh, I don't understand?" Lucifer said dumbly and (name) grinned "I never got a chance to tell you how my day was, awful rude doll~" he whispered to Lucifer and smiled at the smudged red lipstick from his performance on Lucifer's lips "s-so does this mean...?"

"Oh darling, I'm not gonna let you go... But I gotta ask, what's your name? Or should I just call you ducky?" (Name) Teased the other who looked incredibly flustered "maybe baby? Or daddy?" He teased and Lucifer was deeply confused at how this walking sex symbol was related to fucking Alastor but the kiss he was being pulled back into made him forget it all.

"They have been there awfully long" Charlie fretted and Angel dust snorted "he's related to smiles over there, god knows what's happening"

"I'm gonna check on them" she said nervously and Alastor followed, fatherly instincts kicking in as they went to the room the two wandered off too, hearing gasps and grunts and the sound of something knocking over. In a panic Charlie opened the door and Angel dust couldn't hold his laughter at Alastor and Charlie's horrified faces at the scene before them.

(Name) On-top of Lucifer with his suit half off his body and Lucifer was no better with an exposed chest and unbuttoned pants connected to (names) full lack of pants, Lucifer sporting Hickey's and red lipstick all over his body.

"DID IT HAVE TO BE HIM?!" Lucifer was exasperated as the two quickly put themselves together and Charlie was traumatized at the fact she saw her dad... Like that.

[bluerosefox]

GHOSTS WITH HEARTBEATS

When Jason had been going to Gotham Academy, he had (for a good reputation for the media and to help him catch up on his penmanship, remember he had been on the streets and dropped out of school before getting picked up by Bruce for a while) signed up for a penpal project for 'less privileged people' to write to.

(Although Jason was annoyed the penpal project stayed within the states and only selected a middle of nowhere town, he knew the Richie Rich Elites would never subjugate their 'Heirs' to actual kids in need of learning how to read and write)

But Jason didn't mind his penpal.

Danny Fenton was a riot to talk, err write to in all honestly.

From his dry punny humor (and boy can he give even Dick a run for his money in the pun department but hey using some of them actually got Dick to warm up to him a few missions ago) and death jokes so many death jokes, to his nerdy love for space Jason enjoyed writing to Danny.

Even the short stories he would write about a ghost kid protecting a small town from other ghosts was interesting to read. He really liked the different kinds of ghosts there could be. Granted some seemed very OP like that Clockwork dude.

Jason liked writing to Danny, and even after the penpal project was over they had plans to keep sending letters, maybe even exchange numbers soon...

But then he died by the hands of the Joker.

The letters leaving Wayne Manor may had decreased but the letters being sent never did or at least until a few years ago.

Then Jason somehow returned to the land of the living.

Got taken by the LoA, tossed in the green waters and turned into their Pit Raged weapon for a while before leaving them behind and setting out for his revenge against the Joker and to force B's hand.

And becoming a Crime Boss for a while too. Can't forget that.

Point being with all this going on, the old warm memories of exchanging letters with Danny Fenton was pushed into the back of his mind and forgotten about for a while.

It isn't until one afternoon at Wayne Manor that while roughhousing with Dick, who had Jason in a brotherly headlock as they walked down a hall to one of the sitting rooms, that while Jason had slipped out of Dick's hold had stumbled into a hallway desk that had a few things on the top of it, one of the things being a small box that tumbled off when Jason hit it.

The box lid opened and out of it spilled out a good number of letters.

"Shiii-p, dang it Dick!" Jason said when he looked at the mess he accidentally made and stopped himself from swearing, the place might be named Wayne Manor but everyone knew this was Alfie's domain and no swearing was a rule within his halls.

Dick only laughed and teased only in a way a sibling can do "Hey not my fault your as big as a tank Jaybird! We should get you some caution signals if you keep bumping into things!"

Jason flipped him his favorite finger, thankfully Alfred only knew when they swore thus it did not summon him, and bent down to the letters.

His hands froze when he recognized the hand writing and the address it was sent from.

"From: Danny Fent Nightingale

Amity Park, IL"

To: Jason Todd-Wayne

Gotham City, NJ.

Wayne Manor"

And when Jason opened the letter. He really wasn't expecting what was written inside.

"Jason.

I'm finally leaving Amity Park. I can't be there anymore, not after everything. I'm too tired, and emotionally hurt. Everything is just to much. And I can't keep doing this to myself. My parents still can’t understand there is nothing ‘wrong’ with me or why I refuse to let them take care of Ellie, I refuse to let her live the way Jazz and I did, Jazz has to much on her plate already with her own life and college but she’s been hounding me to reach out to mom and dad, Sam refuses to listen to me when I tell her I want to be more than ‘Phantom’ in Amity Park, and Tucker is so busy trying to get into a good college and job we barely have time to talk nowadays. And don’t get me started on Vlad, that fruitloop’s been breathing down my neck since Ellie’s deaging.

Despite how much of a hellhole you like to call it, I think Gotham might be my, no mine and Ellie’s best bet of living some kind of life, especially now since the whole deaging she had to go through, she needs an ectoplasm rich city as well and since she has no actual papers because she was my clone and I remember you saying Gotham has people who can create new identities and-

I’m rambling again, to letter you again. I really need to stop it.

I can’t keep pretending you’re going to read these.

I know you’ll never read these. You’re gone. I can’t even find you in the Realms no matter where I look.

I’m sorry. For using you as, well, a way to vent my life for last couple of years. I shouldn’t had done it but it helped me.

Believing my friend was still alive and getting my letters I mean.

Again I’m sorry.

This will be my last letter to your ghost, pun unintended.

Goodbye Jason. Wish us luck in your city.

-Danny Fen-Nightingale...."

The sent date on the letter was roughly eight years ago.

[huskersbooze]

Sick

Alastor x Reader

Summary : You get sick and Alastor keeps you company <3

Warnings : Swearing(lots of it)

Pairings : Alastor x F!Reader (M!Reader here)

Additional Tags : ALASTOR POV CUZ YES. Sick reader, implied relationship, h/c, fluff, comfort

Word count : 1.01k

“Hey, you alright, kid?” Husk tilts his head to the side, wiping down the last glass of the day.

You don’t respond. Instead, you’re staring off into the distance, dozing off in your own world.

“Kid?”

“Huh? What?” You finally snap out of your thoughts.

“Geez, ya’ look like hell.” Husk acknowledges. “Are you sick?”

“I don’t know.” You shrug. “I don’t think so?”

“Go rest. I’ll work alone today.”

“What? No! I’m fine I swear-” Before you’re able to finish your sentence, Husk flips you off.

“Bullshit. Go find your radio boyfriend.”

“Don’t bullshit me-”

You try arguing but Husk only smirks when he catches a glimpse of Alastor who’s appeared right behind you.

“Well, I just did.” He says. “Now stop being so stubborn.”

“I’m not being stubborn I-” 

You feel a hand being put to your forehead and try to fight back, only to realise it was Alastor.

“High fever.” He lets go. “You’re being stubborn.”

“Oh, fuck you, Al.”

“We’ll fuck when you’re better, darling.”

You blush. Alastor grins. Husk tries to hold in a laugh but ultimately fails.

“You’re sick and you need rest, my dear. Come along.”

“I’m fine-”

Alastor can only sigh, picking you up as you yelp.

“This is completely, and utterly, your fault single-handedly.” He smiled as you pouted. “You're very much welcome, darling.”

“Whatever.”

-----

You managed to escape Alastor as he leaves to mess with Vox. (Ep2 lmao)

Upon returning to the bar, Husk was not pleased to see your ass out of bed, emphasising on how important sleep was to someone sick.

You couldn’t care less.

Though, after wiping down a few more bottles with him, your eyes doze off and your eyelids feel droopy.

“Kid?”

The world spins and fades away.

“Fuck! Kid, ya’ alright?! Alastor!”

-----

[Alastor’s pov]

I heard a little groan as my eyes widened.

"Darling." I whispered, hoping not to startle her.

"Al..?" She breathed out.

"Good morning." I joked, though so grateful she was now awake.

"Wha.. What time is it?" She asked, struggling to get up.

"Be careful." I ushered, helping her sit. "I'm not so sure myself. It's very late at night."

"Where am I?" She asked, finally waking up as she stopped slurring through her words. 

"My room. ‘I’m not sick’ my arse." I replied.

"Oh. Well, I guess you and Husk were right. I just thought I was a little sick." She murmured. 

"You are sick." I replied. "Just worse than you expected."

"Real humorous, Al." She gave a small, yet weak, giggle.

Silence filled the air between us, and we didn't say anything else after that. That was, until she gave a small sneeze. I could tell she tried to suppress it, but seeing it was late at night and so quiet, it was hard not to notice.

"Are you cold?" I asked. I could barely make out the silhouette of her nodding lightly. Without hesitating, I took off my coat and handed it over to her. "Better?"

"A lot. Thanks, Al." She replied. After another few seconds of silence, she spoke up once more. "Why aren’t you asleep?"

"You do remember your dear partner does not need, nor does he enjoy, sleep?"

"Excuse, excuses." She joked, earning a chuckle from me.

"I can't really sleep now." She suddenly says out of nowhere. One thing I really like about this girl, she says the most random things in the most random situations. "Could we do something else?"

"Are you trying to get me killed?" I laughed. "You need to rest."

"I'm aware. That's the initial plan, anyways." She joked. At least, I hoped she was joking.

"You sneaky little deer."

"Yes. That's me. Hello." She replied, sitting on the edge of the bed with her legs crossed as she proceeded to look at me in the dark room. “Besides, it’s not like anyone here at the Hotel is actually powerful enough to kill you.”

"Very well, then. What do you have in mind?"

“Some jazz and cuddles would be nice.”

-----

She chokes on another cough.

"Are you sure you're alright? You should really rest in such vulnerable state."

"I'm," Another cough. "Fine. I swear."

"If you insist."

After a while, I turned to face her, worried she wasn't enjoying herself anymore, only to find her sound asleep, clinging lightly to my shirt. See? I told you were sleepy. You just refused to listen to me. I stopped and watched the girl, moving little by little, afraid of waking her up.

She looked so peaceful. Though, it wouldn't be the first time I find her sleeping in my presence. I tugged a small strand of hair behind her ear as she shifted a little. I immediately paused. Shit, had I woken her? Though she soon returned to her slumber and she curled up into a ball in front of me.

I suppose this would suffice.

"Goodnight, darling." I whispered softly, laying next to her in the bed. "See you in the morning."

-----

[2nd person]

You awoke early in the morning, feeling well rested. Your bed was awfully more comfortable than you had remembered. You sat up and rubbed your eyes, finally opening them for the first time, only to find that you weren't in your own room. It took you a while to let things simmer in.

That's when you heard snoring next to you.

You turned to find the Radio Demon cuddled into a ball next to you in bed sleeping oh so soundly. The poor man probably hadn't had sleep in days. Before you could process what was happening, you checked the time and realized you had to be back at the bar for work in 5 minutes. Not wanting to wake Alastor up, you left him a quick note to thank him and left.

----

The whole day passed and you never caught sight of Alastor. After closing the bar, you headed to Alastor’s room,hoping to find him there.

You stop at his door and break out a tiny laugh.

On the door, a rushed sign saying — Sick. Keep out.

[nelkcats]

Build a bear

Danny went to build his own teddy bear with his parents out of town, Jazz suggested that he could make them say they loved him and record it for life, which would help him when he went to college or finally decides to reveal himself to them, that idea reassured him more than it seemed.

His sister probably wanted him to have a "support bear" like her own, Bearbert, and honestly his old teddy bear was good enough, but maybe a new one with a love reminder would help.

Amity was a small town, so the build a bear shops weren't really there, at least he had found one near Jersey, it was a long drive but he was willing to convince his parents to go.

When they finally arrived at the location, using the excuse of a ghost infestation to lure them; he tried to make a recording of his parents love words but all he ends up recording is "Let's destroy that ectoplasmic scum, he's a threat" with a lot of little lengthy things about Phantom and what they would like to do to him, wich only made him sad.

The last thing that could be heard on the recording was "I just wanted them to tell me they loved me, to remember it when they tie me to that laboratory table" in frustration.

Danny decides to give up and puts the teddy back on the shelf, the manager looks at him sadly and he just pays for it, he did not wanted to cause the employee more trouble; at the end he went back to the GAV, empty-handed and trying to remind himself that his parents love him, even if their priorities are weird and misplaced.

Days later, the Waynes drag Damian into the same store, Damian grumbling the entire way that he didn't need kid's stuff.

While the demon boy complains about the uselessness of everything, Jason notices a green teddy bear, with a jumpsuit full of stars and a sign that says "Boo", it was obviously made to remind a ghost, and he was amused by the "dead" bear so he asked the manager the price, she denies and comments that it was already paid for, but the boy never took it.

More surprised than curious, Jason holds the bear in his arms, squeezing it, it was fluffy; that caused the last thing that was recorded to be played. His blood ran cold hearing what sound like a couple of crazy doctors preparing a vivisection, this in itself was terrible, but the worst part is that the boy's voice at the end, although a little damaged, implied that he was the experiment.

Reluctantly he decided to take the bear to his brothers, this is a mystery in the form of a teddy bear and they are not going to let it go. Even if it's not directly a cry for help, he recognizes incompetent parents and a dangerous situation when he sees one.

[rboooks]

The bakery is a front....right? PART 4

Dedicated to @foxy-tea. Thank you for your lovely words!

Danny didn't want to do it, but he had to admit that his mating season peak had arrived and could not work in that condition. It wasn't that Danny was like a cat in heat, wanting to engage in intercourse all the time.

No, his body craved a life partner and a child to smother in fierce paternal love. It was a bit worse if you asked him. If he just manwhore his way through the city over three months, well, they would just whisper about how easy he was.

A bit embarrassing but not uncommon for someone with Danny's good looks.

Instead, his mating season made him a would-be kidnapper.

He had to physically slam a hot pot of coffee on his hand a week ago when a customer had walked in with a baby, and Phantom had tried to leap over the counter to take the babbling bundle of joy as his own.

Not to mention how Phantom reacted to some of his youngest delivery employees. He hadn't realized he was mumbling "Mine. mine. mine. mine. mine" while approaching Manolo for his latest delivery until Peter had stepped into his path with the dirtiest glare Danny had ever seen.

The punch to his throat hadn't knocked the wind out of him- since Phantom had stopped his breathing three days prior - but it was enough to get Danny out of the daydreams of tucking Manolo into bed after a cup of tea and a bedtime story.

We could teach him to bake. We can teach him to ride a bike. We can sit through all his school performances, no matter how bad they are. We could be his dad. Phantom had cried as Manolo had thrown himself between Peter and Danny, his little arms spread wide to protect him. Let me have the child! Manolo is mine! He's mine to love, mine to protect!

Danny had never had such trouble getting Phantom to settle.

In seconds, Peter was quickly surrounded by Andres' friends and the rest of Danny's staff. He had taken a fighter position, looking around like an animal about to maul its victims while Danny wrestled with himself to get control.

He and Phantom are not two separate personalities fighting for control but one person with conflicting instincts.

One of a human's most basic instincts is self-preservation. A ghost's most basic instinct is self-fulfillment.

Danny did not want things to become a free-for-all where someone could get hurt. Phantom tried to fight them all to claim the kids under his protection.

Thankfully, everything was deescalated by Jazz's timely arrival. Danny couldn't really remember what she had done (too busy struggling to hold himself as a human and not go ghost to become the most excellent dad to ever dad). Still, if there was one gift Jazz had, it was being able to reason with spirits about their obsessions.

If she could convince beings whose entire existence depended on being stubborn about a particular subject, she could persuade humans of anything.

Peter had been allowed to leave with no injuries, and even two days paid off, while the rest had realized that the man had just acted out of PTSD due to what Jazz called "projecting trauma in safe settings."

There were a lot of people in this area that understood what PTSD episodes did to them and had not faulted Petter. Manolo even gave Peter a small crocheted fox to help him overcome the fear.

(Danny had given the small fox plushy to Manolo when the kid first arrived at his bakery, proclaiming it had a protective spell to keep fear away. He had yet to be aware the boy carried around with him.)

Jazz had then taken Danny to his apartment, where she had placed him in quarantine. She had been informed by Frost Bite during their bi-weekly mentor/protegee meetings- Jazz was studying under the Yeti in Ghost Psychology- that Danny's Peak had arrived. Danny would jack up his "I need to be a dad" and "I need to be a husband" urges to Fruitloop levels.

Danny would try to force someone into that role if he was around humans or ghosts, even if it was against their will. Ugh, he would be a Vlad 2.0 for a full two weeks!

He could not risk himself around others. So with a heavy heart, he informed his employees he would be stepping away for a two-week long vacation and had made it seem like he left on a plane to visit Jazz overseas.

His staff would take care of the bakery for him, but it saddened Danny he could not be there to help with things. He then sealed off all entries to his apartment and informed the residents of the Ghost zone he was in, "Mating Peak retreat," so no one would bother him past a few already mated servants of the Ghost King.

They would bring him supplies and requests through a no-contact portal once he ordered them through a magical catalog. It was like online shopping for ghosts.

Danny now had to wait two weeks for this to finally go away, and he could go about his ordinary daily life of being perfectly dead and alive. Until it happened again the following year.

Elli told him to be grateful it was only a yearly thing, not a monthly deal. He shuddered at the mere thought of experiencing this every month.

Done! Phantom cheers snapping Danny back to reality. In his hands are a pair of freshly crocheted booties. He hadn't even been aware he was making them.

They look great, Danny tells Phantom, turning them in his hands to smile at the giant sunflowers on each side. A button was used as the center of the flowers, and Phantom even included a few lace designs around them to look like leaf vines.

They are based on the park's flowers.

The park?

Yes, the park where you promised to take me today! Phantom goes from calmly talking to screaming, and Danny winces.

You know I can't go outside. You'll just try to steal a child from the park.

I would never forget to also steal a wife or husband!

Danny sighs, rubbing his face knowing he was telling himself that forgetting a spouse was worse than the idea of kidnapping people. He places the booties on top of an ever-growing pile. Since his quarantine has begun, Danny has made about two hundred pairs of various styles, sizes, and colors.

Danny looks around at the piles and piles of other of his crocheting projects. He's got sweaters, scarves, gloves, socks, hats, beanies, and even blazers for various genders, ages, and styles meant to help with the coldest winter. He could adequately dress his whole street and still have some left over.

All prepared for his nonexisting family.

He has been making them at the same speed he can fly, i.e., 200 mph. He's made some yarn dealers in the zone extremely wealthy. He can't help it, though. Danny has frozen every inch of his apartment too far too cold levels for an average human without proper wear.

He's been working fast because his human mind knew that the cold was terrible for his lover and children, so it wanted to keep them nice and warm. While his ghost side added layers of snow to the floor and ice to the walls, he even made decorative ice sculptures that he desperately reorganized again and again to find the perfect balance of the cold. Only his electronics were not frozen over, so even his furniture had layers of ice- some with designs to make them look fancier.

He's also cooked up a storm in preparation for feeding his family. Only to realize a spouse and kids were not coming, thus forcing him to donate his meals to the ghost delivery people. They were ever so happy to have five-course meals shoved at them just for bringing the king more yarn.

Danny throws himself face-first into the pile of snow from his couch, allowing the softness to cushion his fall. There is a terrible itch under the skin. It's begging him to leave to find someone to kiss and worship. Unwillingly, Alvin's face appears in his mind before he turns over and stares at his ceiling. He's made all the constellations into small carvings on the ice. I can't go outside. I can watch another movie or make more bagels instead.

Watching another romance movie won't bring me a mate! Phantom hisses.

I know but-

Suddenly Danny senses flair as someone crosses over his wards. Sitting up in alarm, Danny makes a break for his room as even more people join the first and break into his guest room through a window. Not that he can't take whoever they are, but if he comes face to face with them-well, Danny thinks he may keep them.

That's not something he's willing to risk.

Phantom is already throwing out some severe pheromones that would likely infatuate them to Danny, babbling about this being their chance. Four adults- spouses!- and a child- a son or daughter!- have entered their main haunt. They had to give them food and warm clothes and cuddle them until they never left!

No!

He can't force them to stay!

He had to make them stay even if it meant chaining them!

No, they would be miserable!

Phantom could make them happy forever!

The effort to stay in his human control took so much effort Danny started to aggressively twitch as he fumbled with the hidden room in the back of an old wardrobe. He's breathing heavily, trying to get his blurry vision to focus so he can open the darn thing and get in. Finally, it does, and Danny just barely closes it when a figure bursts through the door.

He watches through a small crack as the figure carefully looks over his frozen domain. It's one of the vigilantes. Red Robin.

What is he doing here?

The man walks into his room, leaving behind disruptive snow that goes up his ankles.

Thank the Ancients, his footprints do not appear in his own snow. Otherwise, a perfect trail would lead the hero straight to him. Instead, he watches with a hand over his mouth as Red Robin carefully searches his room.

Danny cuts off his need to breathe as the sound would give him away. Still, he's twitching so much that he's practically shaking as the hero carefully breaks the ice over his drawers and pulls out his clothes in quick, careful movements.

Go away. Go away. Go away. Danny thinks desperately. He should have tried calling someone. Jazz. Ellie. Even his parents or Vlad!

None of them would cause his instincts to want to force them to play house- though he would likely still try to imprison them since he would like to protect them non the less.

But they could at least do something and get the poor vigilante somewhere safe!

Never leave. Never leave. Never leave. Phantom purrs, and oh no, an intense burst of pheromones is sent through the room. Red Robin freezes; from what little Danny can see of his face, it's flushed red, and gosh, he wants to smother that man in so much love-

"Guys, I think I came in contact with the drug," Red Robin pants after pressing his hand to his ear. "I don't know how, but I am definitely feeling something. Think it's airborne, but not sure."

He doesn't finish his sentence before Redhood and Nightwing are suddenly in his room. Nightwing has a gas mask over his face while Red Hood swings a gun around the room, looking for a target.

Danny almost whines at the gentle way Nightwing helps Red Robin into a sitting position. He's looking him over with such loving protection that he- that Danny- Phantom wants him- wants a husband-!

"Shit," Red Hood hisses, body pushing back as if some strong wind had hit him. "Yeah, it's definitely in this room. Felt a bit of it, even with my built-in filters. Wing?"

"Did the room get colder?" Nightwing asks as he helps Red Robbin to his feet. The other man seems to be feeling better with his gas mask, but he must still be effect by Phantom's pheromones.

"The wardrobe." Red Robin gasps, pointing unknowingly right at Danny. "The ice around it is getting bigger. And...it's leaking."

What? Danny looks down only to see in horror a knocked-over jar of fresh ectoplasm. He hadn't even been aware he had broken the thing when he crawled here.

The jars were the ones that he gathered with Jazz and Ellie after a three-day foraging trip. All ghosts were made of Ecoplasim, but just like you couldn't stick blood into someone without being comparable, you couldn't use any random ectoplasm for other people- humans or ghosts.

It had to be some of the purest natural kind, not linked to any type of beings, like a river of ectoplasm or the frozen pillars in the farthest parts of the Far Frozen. Giving someone ectoplasm from one's body could taint them in the donator's obsession.

Yes, Danny could make more people protective of each other, but it would likely cause them to be Fruitloop-level protective. They just didn't have the filter like he did to not go mad.

That pure kind was now leaking out of his hiding place and into the white snow of his main lair.

Danny only has a second to panic before the door is wrenched open, and he falls into a stunned Red Robin.

He goes limp from the shock as Phantom purrs, settling in his mind now that he's pressed against a possible mate. Like Danny said, it's not intercourse his ghost side is after, it's close contact, and this is enough to satisfy it.

"Shit, it's Danny. He-he's not breathing, and he's ice cold. I think he's de-dead." Red Robin says in what sounds like tears.

No. My husband is sad. Danny and Phantom think, a terrible pulse of pain bursting across his chest. He can't get his body to move to offer comfort, though. It's been a whole week since he last saw someone in person, and this is so nice. Why did he ever fight this instinct? It felt so good to give in.

He could stay in Red Robin's arms forever.

Red Robin was never going to see the clear sky again. He was never leaving this apartment.

"I found something," Red Hood's voice is behind him. "It looks like it is Lazarus' water, but it's clearer. I think this is our drug. Danny must have ODed."

"No! He can't- we have to do something!" Red Robin cries, and Danny slumps further against him like a broken doll. He's not blinking. Blinking is for humans. Danny isn't a human.

His unfocused eyes stare at wherever Red Robin has him positioned to look.

"There is nothing we can do, Red Robin," A new voice says though not unkindly. Phantom doesn't turn his head but can see Batman walk up behind Red Robin, wearing his gas mask. He places his hand on the trembling vigilante. "You need to put him down."

"No!" Phantom purs as the arms around his shoulders bring them closer to his husband's body.

"It's too late for him, Drake. We can only honor his death."

That....that was a voice of a child. A child is in his main haunt.

Phantom wails in joy.

He gets out of his husband's arms, leaping over Batman, and his arms are around a boy in red, green, and yellow. Phantom smothers his face against the hood covering the boy's head, and short sobs rank his body. "My baby! You're my baby!"

"Unhand me!" His little grunts slamming a knife into Phantom's side, but that doesn't matter because Phantom has his son and his husband in his nest.

A bullet harmlessly passes through his forehead after a loud bang, creating a hole in Phantom's wall. He'll take care of that after he smothers his baby in cuddles.

Nightwing swings a baton at Phantom, but that, too, passes through his body without harm.

"Shit! Danny put him down!"

Huh, was that Sam?

"Danny, I mean it. Drop him!"

Oh, Tucker too!

"Daniel Fenton, you let that boy go right now!" Jazz sounded upset. Maybe she should hold his baby. "Are you listening to me?"

"Danny is not here right now." He hears his body say.

"Ohhhhh. That's not good. Okay, Danny time for a nap!" Ellie flies into his face, her hand glowing green and he has a moment to gasp at the betrayal before she blasts him.

He drops, knowing no more.

(Part 1), (Part 2), (Part 3), (Part 5)

[itaipava]

— domestic mornings with f1 boys.

˒ ⌕ LANDO NORRIS

waking up around the same time. sleepily tugging and poking at each other until one relents and turns over to switch the alarm off. him talking about how you both have so many things to do and should get up soon, but holding you tighter and refusing to let go. doing your own morning routines at your own pace. exchanging playful grins and teasing words when you pass by each other. music playing in the background. random little duets or dance-offs in the living room before going “okay, stop, we don’t have time.” occasionally bickering when he blasts loud his favorite songs, disturbing the peaceful morning. always remembering to give each other ‘have a good day’ kiss and saying ‘i love you’.

˒ ⌕ DANIEL RICCIARDO

actually waking up early but spending about an hour in bed, being lazy together. very playful and light-hearted mornings. lightly kicking or pushing each other and accusing the other of stealing the covers or taking up all the space. ruffling each other’s hair to mess it up even more. changing cuddling positions every minute. watching tiktok or youtube videos while leaning against his chest. fighting about who showers first so that the other gets extra minutes of time to be lazy on bed; eventually deciding to settle it like adults — by playing rock-paper-scissors.

˒ ⌕ CARLOS SAINZ

waking up to the smell of breakfast that he’s making. making your way into the kitchen and giving him a back hug while he cooks. ending up having a short nap against his back. him intentionally leaning his head backwards to lightly bump your head with the back of his head when he knows you’ve fallen asleep. small talks in the kitchen while listening to jazz. eating breakfast together; him giving you more from his plate when you seem like you’re enjoying the food. more chitchat about your day ahead. the kitchen and the little breakfast nook being your bonding place in the morning; afterwards, doing your own things, the atmosphere soft, peaceful, and filled with blissful quietness.

˒ ⌕ CHARLES LECLERC

him setting the alarm on vibration mode so as not to disturb your sleep. him pressing a soft kiss on your forehead or shoulder before beginnning to move away, and you gently reaching for his hand, still half asleep, before letting him go. sending each other texts even though you’re in the same house/apartment. him coming back into the room with a cup of freshly-brewed coffee for you. reminding each other things throughout the morning: “did you take your vitamins?” “don’t forget it’s going to rain later!” “i put the extra charger in your bag.”

˒ ⌕ LEWIS HAMILTON

him waking up earlier and making sure to adjust the covers over you so that you’re warm. waking up to the sound of him returning home from a jog or gym. him greeting you with a ‘good morning, baby’ and a quick kiss on top of your head. taking a shower together. having really good talks in the shower while rubbing each other’s backs with lather and getting carried away before realizing that you’re going to be late, so now you’re hurriedly rinsing yourselves. him offering you a towel first and instinctively holding your hand so that you don’t slip while getting out of the shower. quick but lingering little nose rubs before leaving the house, already looking forward to coming home to each other.

˒ ⌕ OSCAR PIASTRI

taking turns to snooze the blaring alarm at least six times before even considering waking up. him reaching out to cuddle you closer, telling himself it’s just for five more minutes, but dozing off again as soon as he’s comfortable with you in his arms. soft, languid kisses on each other’s bodies. sleepy ‘i love you’s.’ offering suggestions when you’re having trouble picking outfits. helping each other with zippers and buttons while dressing.

˒ ⌕ MAX VERSTAPPEN

being naturally in sync in the morning. waking up together to the sound of the alarm set for you both. him giving you a one-handed neck massage when you sit side-by-side on the bed, while also trying to shake his own sleepiness away. making the bed together and both plopping on the freshly-made bed for one last brief morning cuddle and kiss before really getting up. brushing teeth together and making funny faces at each other in the mirror. then proceeding to bicker about whose turn it is to do the dishes or laundry for the day.

[dewdropdinosaur]

Our Mom

LUCIFER x (F) READER

Part One

Summary: You like Lucifer and he likes you. One problem though: what will your 'kids' think? Based off an comment from @river-ride

Warnings: NONE

OMG!!! My lovelies, thank you so much for the support on my last Lucifer fic. Y'all are amazing! Remember, requests are open for lots of fandoms etc. Thank you so much for all of y'alls love and I appreacite you.

For now, enjoy more Lucifer my dears!!

In the bustling corridors of the Hazbin Hotel, where the damned sought refuge from the fiery depths of Hell, Y/N was a beacon of warmth and solace. She was more than just a resident; she was a pillar of support, a confidante, and a pseudo-mother figure to many within those crimson walls.

Among those she touched was Lucifer, the charming and enigmatic ruler of Hell, who found himself inexplicably drawn to her gentle kindness and unwavering compassion. Yet, despite the undeniable spark between them, neither dared to voice the truth lingering in their hearts. Despite being quite close after the battle with Heaven and the rebuilding of the Hotel, neither party could seem to bring themselves to speak their feelings. 

On one hand, Y/N feared two things: that Lucifer could never like a lowly sinner like her and that since she was a pseudo-mother to all of the hotel’s residents…dating the King of Hell may cause a few setbacks in relationships that she desperately did not want. Y/N loved each and every resident in the Hotel, an older demon herself who never had the chance to have her own, everyone under the crimson fading roof became like a child to her. She adored Angel’s compassion even in the midst of despair, she loved playing cards with Husk(who definitely didn’t let her win to see that small smile of hers), time spent chatting and planning with Charlie was always a blast, and yes…even time with Alastor listening to old jazz tunes had found its place in the grand scheme of things. So, her feelings for Lucifer would have to be put on hold indefinitely for this arrangement not to break.

On the other hand, Lucifer the King of Hell himself was a wreck. Every time he saw Y/N, her smile, the way she carried herself with compassion but still headstrong it made his knees buckle and he could have sworn he was back in Heaven. She was like an angel, ironically so. He fully knew of her past, her sins. Yet, she was so willing to help and assist others at a shot of redemption she knew she could never have struck a chord within the lonely ruler of the Underworld. 

However, one fateful evening, as the residents gathered in the grand hall for their routine meeting, tensions simmered beneath the surface. Charlie, along with Husk, Angel Dust, and Alastor, had grown wary of Lucifer's aloof demeanor towards Y/N. They knew of the unspoken affection that brewed between the two, and they were determined to push the devil to confront his feelings(or perishing for daring to even look at Y/N was another option considered by some…ahem…Alastor and the beloved Sassy Narrator) 

As the meeting progressed, Charlie cleared her throat, catching everyone's attention. "It has come to our attention," she began, exchanging knowing glances with the others, "that certain... feelings may be harbored within our midst."

Husk smirked, Angel winked mischievously, and Alastor's grip tightened, his eyes glinting with murderous amusement.

Lucifer's eyes narrowed in suspicion as he let out a breathy chuckle, sensing a trap. "And what feelings might those be, my dear? I surely hope no animosity has been brewing."

Charlie gestured subtly to Y/N, who stood by the sidelines, her gaze fixed on her ‘children’ around her. 

"Feelings of a... romantic nature, perhaps?" Charlie smiled but her eyes were nervous. She knew her father well enough that it was indeed time to move on from Lillith and Y/N was no better candidate, doing a better job than Lillith herself ever did. But what if she was wrong and her father really had no interest in her ‘new’ mother. Or the other way around?

A collective murmur swept through the room as the residents exchanged curious glances. Y/N's cheeks flushed crimson, and Lucifer felt a strange warmth spread through his chest at the mention of romance.

Clearing his throat, Alastor leaned forward, his grin widening into a smirk. "Now, now, Lucifer, don't be shy. We all know how dear Y/N is to you. Why, if anything were to happen to her, well..."

The implication hung heavy in the air, and Lucifer's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Are you threatening me, Alastor?"

Alastor chuckled nonchalantly, though the glint in his eyes betrayed his amusement as he waved his hands in a circular motion around his cane which made ominous shadows appear around Lucifer’s chair. 

"Merely stating the obvious. After all, we wouldn't want anything untoward to happen to our dear Y/N now, would we?"

The tension in the room was palpable as Lucifer's jaw clenched, his gaze flickering between Y/N and the others. Husk flicked his claws open, Angel smirked with a glinting knife in hand, and even Vaggie tilted her head to gesture to her angelic spear. All of them were in agreement… ‘hurt our mom and you will wish you got to die a second time.’ 

 Sensing his inner turmoil, Y/N stepped forward, her voice gentle but firm.

"Lucifer, you don't have to listen to them. Whatever you feel, whatever we feel, it's... it's our choice." 

Her words hung in the air, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still as Lucifer met her gaze, his expression softening with an unspoken understanding.

Finally, with a resigned sigh, he stepped forward, his hand reaching out to cup Y/N's cheek tenderly. "Perhaps... perhaps there is truth in what they say," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "But know this, my dear Y/N: I would move mountains to keep you safe, to cherish you, for as long as you'll have me."

A soft smile tugged at Y/N's lips as she leaned into his touch, her heart swelling with a newfound sense of courage and hope. "Then let's face whatever comes together," she whispered, her eyes sparkling with unshed tears.

And as the residents of the Hazbin Hotel looked on, witnessing the delicate dance of love and redemption unfolding before them, they knew that no matter the trials that lay ahead, Y/N and Lucifer would weather the storm together, bound by a love that transcended even the depths of Hell itself. 

And even if something did ever happen…well they would kill the King himself without a second thought and Lucifer knew it. 

[satoshy12]

Dating Ra's Granddaughter, Tim is not a fan how Ra did it. But Jazz is cute!

Tim was looking at Ra, who once again kidnapped him! Before him, was there a suit?

Ra:" Put on your clothes. I have the date ready for you!"

Tim didn't fight back, and they arrived in the small town.

Cute red hair opened the door. "Grandpa, what are you doing here?"

Ra:" Jasmine remember your bad boyfriend! So I brought you a new one! He is a smart boy! And I can be your +1 when you rule the league!"

Jazz:" Grandpa! We had the talk!"

Ra: Yeah, yeah, I am going to spend time with Danny and Ellie. You go on your date."

+

Ra left to join Danny and Ellie. He has the sword Ellie wanted, and both wanted to train her to use it.

+

Jazz gave a smile:" I am sorry about him. Since I dated that boy who wanted to take over my body, he is awlays that way."

Tim: "Oh, no problem. Where am I?"

Jazz:" In Amity Park."

Tim looked at the pretty, cute girl and said, "Don't we have a date to go?"

Jazz:"Wait, really? Even if Grandpa...?"

Tim:" Ah, no problem about it."

Irony he liked to spend time with her, and Ra did get much better. To learn he was never planned, as Heir doesn't bother him. But that Damian was never the Heir brought him joy.

And they all seem to be like Damian, very Feral.

A/N

Ra never planned for Tim to be his heir. Nope! Tim was to marry his heir!

And it all started when Jazz dated Johnny.

[five-rivers]

Funeral

“I’m sorry,” said Danny, speaking to the headstone in lieu of anything else to talk to.  He certainly wasn’t going to speak to the empty and expectant grave a few feet away.  “I wanted to wait.  I want to wait.  It’s just–”  He cut himself off, curling his hands into fists.  “There are so many things I haven’t seen, haven’t done.  Jazz got married, you know?  She’s pregnant.  If I was– I could have–”

He fell silent and adjusted the collar of his overcoat, trying to keep the frigid Ghost Zone wind away from his currently human neck.  

“Sam and Tucker are thinking about getting married, now that we’ve all graduated,” he said softly.  “I would have liked to see that, too.  And have a career.  Travel.  I know you wanted to do that, too.  But–”  

He broke off as his voice pitched weirdly, too high, too loud.  Sparks jumped off his fists as his emotions rose.  He flickered in and out of sight and tangibility, and his skin started to–

With an effort, he wrenched himself back together.  

“I’m sorry,” he said again.  “This is why I have to go.  I’m too unstable, and it isn’t like you.  I’m not just a danger to myself.”

(A premonition: Disturbed soil, a hand reaching out, a solid body… but there was nothing there now.  The ground was troubled only by slowly growing grass.)

He turned away from Dani’s grave and walked back to the mortuary shrine.  

The wind kicked up again.  There was ice in it.  

A motto was carved above the threshold of the shrine.  It read, LET THE DEAD BURY THEIR OWN DEAD.  Appropriate.  No one fully living would be here tonight.  Sam, Tucker, and Jazz had all wanted to be, just like they had all wanted to be there for Dani, but there were rules about this kind of thing, old rules, and–

Ice feathered out from under his feet.  And it wouldn’t be safe for them.  

The mortuary shrine was cozy on the inside, not at all like a morgue, or an embalmer’s studio.  There were some similarities, overlaps in function, but the shrine was not organized with decaying fleshy bodies in mind.  The central altar, for example, was high off the ground, for ease of access by the celebrants, but it was soft, bed-like, for the sake of the one who’d lie there.  The other altars were filled with other things, like candles, foods, oils and wines, salt, cloth, books, and strange implements Danny couldn’t name.  All things needed for a burial.  

There was other furniture, too, and the associated accouterments.  Elegant ghost lanterns and a fireplace, burning with cold fire.  Lovely chairs and small tables carved from bright wood.  Plush footstools.  Tapestries and curtains, softening the stone walls.  

Three ghosts waited for him there, the proper number for a rite like this.  Frostbite, his horns only inches from the ceiling.  Pandora, who had taken a smaller form for the occasion.  Clockwork, who looked much the same as he always did, except that he wasn’t changing forms, instead wearing a guise of solid middle age.  

(Danny still had to look up at all of them.  He'd managed to catch up to Jazz, but he'd never reached his father's height.)

“You are ready,” said Clockwork.  

It wasn’t really a question, didn't necessarily call for a response, but Danny understood.  This was his last chance to back out without any more consequences than the ones he was currently experiencing.  

But those consequences were bad enough.  He shuddered as intangibility and invisibility rippled through him again, and he just barely kept a grip on his more destructive powers.  

“Yes,” said Danny.  He looked around the shrine, nervous.  He hadn't been here when Dani did this. He didn't know what came next.  Not in any detail.  “Should I change?”

“No,” said Pandora.  “Not unless you feel the need to.  The ritual will be a guide, as it was for your younger sister.”

“Then we shall begin,” said Clockwork.  

Danny nodded.  

Frostbite came forward fist, and leaned all the way down to kiss Danny’s forehead.  “You are dead, Great One, and we will remember you.”

He stepped back, and Pandora took his place.  “You are dead, little warrior, and we will send you on with honor.”  She pressed a kiss to his forehead as well.  

Then, Clockwork came up.  He looked down at Danny for longer than the other two.  “You are dead, Daniel, and the time comes for all the dead to be laid to rest.”

When Clockwork’s lips brushed against Danny’s forehead, he felt the first strands of the ritual wrap around him like silk.  Still thin and tenuous enough that he could break free, but not without damage to both the weaving and himself.  

Frostbite, meanwhile, had turned to one of the lesser altars.  There was a small teapot chilling there, above a braiser of cold fire.  Frostbite poured its contents into a large mug, then added three scoops of shimmery white powder, each from a different small pot, before stirring three times.  

He held the mug out to Danny.  “For your nerves.”

“Is this drugged?” asked Danny, taking the mug.  He kept his tone light.  Considering the parts of this Danny knew were going to happen, that was really the least of his worries.  

“Drugged and poisoned,” said Frostbite.  “We did research into the best way to ritually account for your continued life.  This is it.”

If Danny was younger, he’d ask if it was going to kill him.  He knew better, now, about how durable half-ghosts were.  Memories of long-ago history lessons, of trivia, of drugged drinks and gentle, honored deaths on cold mountains ghosted through Danny’s mind.  But those were children.  

He raised the mug to his lips and took a drink.  It tasted of chocolate, cream, and a bewildering array of spices and herbs, from capsaicin to vanilla to rosemary.  There was also a bitter undertaste, and Danny would have pulled away instinctively, but as soon as he’d started the reflexive motion, Frostbite put a friendly but firm hand on the back of his head, and another on the bottom of the mug, keeping it tilted back.  

(A premonition: Other hands hovered nearby, ready to assist if Danny resisted.  He could feel them.  One over his nose, another stroking his throat, taking advantage of the remaining reflexes of his human body.  But they weren’t there.  Not yet.)

The rites, now started, would not be so easily refused.  

Danny drank deeply, finding a strange sort of enjoyment in the extended physical contact.  He’d been avoiding touch ever since a nasty scare with his ice powers and Sam’s skin.  There had been close calls before that, too, with his newer, more esoteric powers, but until then…

Frostbite tilted Danny’s head all the way back, ensuring the last few drops of the drink fell past Danny’s lips, then pulled the mug away.  Danny licked his teeth and lips, and swallowed one more time.  He didn’t feel anything yet.  

“What next?” he asked, wincing at the edge of power behind the question.  He should probably just.  Not talk.  Especially not with drugs in his system.  

“After a death, the first step is to clean and prepare the body,” said Pandora.  

Of course.  Danny nodded.  The mortuary shrine… wobbled.  

Frostbite swept Danny up into his arms - which would have been more embarrassing if Frostbite wasn’t huge - and carried him to one of the lesser altars.  It was smooth-surfaced and the neighboring, even smaller altars had bars, bottles, jars, basins of water, and washcloths, all arranged to stand at precise angles from one another.  He was laid down on the altar, and Frostbite and Clockwork started to undress him.  

At first, Danny tried to help, peeling out of his overcoat and sweater quickly.  But then, his movements seemed to… blur.  His mind was still sharp, as far as he could tell, but his limbs were becoming clumsy, slow.  

It was Clockwork who untied his boots, and Frostbite who unbuttoned Danny’s shirt.  By the time they got to his underthings, it felt like there was a barrier between him and his body.  Not anything solid, he could still move, still react, but something muffling, slowing.  Frostbite laid him down so that he was flat on his back on the lesser altar.  Clockwork started going through Danny’s hand with a wet, lightly perfumed, comb.  Frostbite, meanwhile, took out a set of dentists tools and eased Danny’s jaw open with one claw.  

Across the room, at the main altar, Pandora laid layer after layer of cloth.  Some of them were patterned, others plain.  Some were thick with embroidery, others were gossamer thin.  Some were edged with beads or woven with gold, others looked tattered, as if they’d been previously used for something else, the scrupulously cleaned.  

Clockwork, done with Danny’s hair for the moment, moved on to his feet.  It was hard to describe the intimacy of being cleaned like this by someone else.  By someone he knew.  He wasn’t a patient, Clockwork wasn’t a nurse.  He wasn’t an infant, and Clockwork wasn’t his parent.  But this was an act of care and love, offered without judgment.  It was also embarrassingly efficient and thorough.  When a body was cleaned, prepared for internment, it wasn't just the normal surfaces that were cleaned, but areas generally considered private.  

As Clockwork moved upwards, the powers that churned along the surface of Danny’s skin quieted.  They did not go silent - they never did, these days - but they were no longer so maddeningly active.  

Finished with Danny's mouth (which now felt much more clean than it ever did after the dentist's) Frostbite moved on to his nails, clipping and cleaning them, smoothing rough edges and cuticles.  Danny tried to be helpful with this, to at least hold his hands in the right way, but the effects of the drugs were progressing.  His movements were slowing, growing smaller.  

He should be panicking.  The loss of control, at least, should bother him, given the constant vigilance his rapidly growing powerset required.  But, as a human, his emotions were still principally dependent on physical systems and chemical reactions.  His heartbeat was slow, and growing slower.  

They turned him over to work on his back, and Danny half-dozed, eyes barely open, as they diligently scrubbed him clean.  

Then, he was on his back again, anointed with oils and perfumes, smokes and incense wafted over him.  Something wet drew a line from his lips to his groin.  

Danny's heart twitched to a stop. 

Blue-white rings flared from his core in an instant, painfully arresting the moment of death, then swept out to Danny's extremities.  He flinched, twisting on the table, onto his side, suddenly able to move again.  Everything was too bright, too loud, too close, too present.  He covered his face with his arms.

The panic he’d missed earlier was in full force now, shining bright and pure and crystalline in the way only ghostly emotions could.  He was in danger.  He was dangerous.  He could feel his powers coiling, ready to strike, whether it be his will or against it.  He fought them, and paid the price, bones and skin going soft, their fine, detailed structures destabilizing, running like wax, like the flesh of a caterpillar in a cocoon.  

A hand scooped through his sticky, melting flesh and pressed a cool, hard, surface to his lips.  He drank.  It was the same thing Frostbite had given him before, but without the bitterness.  With every gulp, the ritual spun onwards, strands thickening, multiplying.  By the time he was finished drinking, his skin was sticky and damp, but solid again underneath that.  

“No poison this time?” he asked.

“Just because you cannot taste it does not mean it isn’t there,” said Frostbite.  “Do you know what separates a medicine from a poison?”

“Dosage?” hazarded Danny.  Jazz was an MD.  He’d picked up a few things.

All three of the older ghosts chuckled.  Frostbite went as far as to ruffle his hair.

“He does learn,” said Clockwork, unzipping Danny’s jumpsuit (it had grown with him) and gently pushing aside Danny’s hands when he moved to help.  

Whatever was in the second drink, if there was anything at all, it didn’t act nearly as quickly as the first.  He could feel so much more, his sense of touch unblunted.  It made the process of Frostbite, Clockwork, and Pandora undressing him all that much more, especially when they chided him (ever so gently) for trying to help them, for doing anything but lying there like a corpse.  

(Deja vu: Rituals as old as humanity, reaching back, reaching forward.  The preparation of the dead, laying them to rest.  The duty of the family, to clean and prepare, to stand watch, sit vigil, to March the wake, to mourn, to celebrate.  The dead did not move to help.  They did not move at all.)

They washed the spaces between his toes and fingers, his teeth, the backs of his eyelids, the insides of his ears, every nook and cranny they had cleaned when he was in human form was cleaned again.  The stickiness from his earlier destabilization was wiped away, replaced with a dry, fresh feeling.  Invisibility and intangibility stopped wisping across his skin, too tightly bound by the ritual to be used even by accident.  

The perfumes they used now were different, they tickled at his brain and core both, summoning feelings of nostalgia, regret, longing, grief, quiet, peace.  They traced symbols in them, in languages Danny didn’t know but could feel the meanings of, of linear past and spreading future, of the pinpoint present, of decay and rot, of the loosening of muscles, of the blurring of boundaries, of reconstruction, of change, of stability, of things remade, of things caught in time forever.  

Frostbite picked him up and brought him to the main altar.  It was soft, piled high with cloth.  They felt cool and silky on Danny’s bare skin and there was a pillow under his head.  Absently, he ran his palm back and forth across the top cloth.  Or, no, not quite the top one.  The main one he was touching was large, large enough to hang off the altar and pool on the ground, but there was a smaller strip of embroidered cloth, almost like a long belt or ribbon, at the height of his biceps.  

There was, he noted, another such ribbon under his ankles, and another under his knees.  He wondered what they were for.  

He didn’t have to wonder for long.  Clockwork picked up the long ends of the ribbon and wound it around his ankles in a complicated fashion.  The twists and turns showed off the intricacy of the abstract embroidery.  He finished it off with a knot that disappeared under the rest of the ribbon.  

The strings of the ritual gathered faster, wound thicker, tighter, with a physical anchor.  

Clockwork moved on to the ribbon at Danny’s ankles.  The weaving was slightly different, but had the same effect. 

He expected the one under his arms to go the same way.  But instead Pandora, Frostbite, and Clockwork gathered flowers from another altar.  They were all black and white, so it took Danny a moment to recognize them.  Lilies, roses, marigolds, carnations, asphodel, nettle, nightshade, poppies, lycoris.  Flowers for death, for funerals, for mourning.  

Clockwork wrapped Danny’s hands around the bouquet, and pressed the ring finger of his left hand against a rose thorn.  A drop of blood welled up.  Blood, not ectoplasm.  Danny stared, surprised.  But he didn’t get to stare long.  Clockwork produced another ribbon, and wrapped it around the flowers and Danny’s wrists.  

Then, he picked up the other ribbon under Danny and tied it around his upper arms and elbows before tucking the ends into the ribbon around Danny’s wrists.  

It all felt very secure.  

Under normal circumstances, Danny would have been able to escape such flimsy restraints in a hummingbird’s heartbeat.  But it wasn’t just the ribbons that held him.  He could still escape, yes, but it would take a great deal of effort.  

He twitched his shoulder, just to check that he could.  The motion was slow, heavy, and smaller than he expected.  

Pandora put a stilling hand on his shoulder and held a coin up in front of his face.  It was large and silver, inscribed with symbols from languages both long dead and never alive.  Danny wondered if they had made it just for this occasion.  

“A last chance,” said Pandora.

His last chance to back out, is what she meant.  To say something.  He could do it.  He could stop the ritual and suffer the consequences.  He could be a danger to everyone around him for the rest of his existence, however long or short that was.  

He gave Pandora the tiniest shake of his head.  She smiled and pressed the coin against his lips.  He opened his mouth, just enough to take the coin.  It fit comfortably on his tongue, in between his teeth but not jostling against them.  If it wasn’t custom made and sized, it might as well have been.  It tasted metallic and sweet, as if, given enough time, it would dissolve on his tongue. 

Pandora took out one more embroidered ribbon and wrapped it around his jaw and the top of his head, holding his mouth closed.  There was enough tension in the ribbon to press, but not enough for its edges to dig into tender flesh.  Taken together, the coin and ribbon made an effective gag.  

His wail was now bound just as effectively as his intangibility and invisibility, as effectively as his tongue and voice.  For the first time since the incompatibility between his powers and his body became clear, the stress of keeping his wail under control was lifted away.

(A possibility, unraveled: Danny standing at the center of a crater made with his own voice.  No, kneeling.  No, weeping, curled on the ground, head touching dirt and fractured concrete.  He knew those buildings, teetering on the edges of new cliffs.  He knew them.)

This was the right decision.  

The three older ghosts busied themselves at the other, smaller altars briefly, allowing Danny to collect himself and sink deeper into that sense of relaxation.  The wail wasn’t the only thing that had been taken off his shoulder.  All his other voice-based powers were similarly locked away, and he hadn’t even noticed losing his shapeshifting, but he couldn’t touch that, either.  

When Pandora stepped back into his field of view, she was holding a mask.  A death mask, more specifically, styled after Danny’s own face.  Frostbite, next to her, held a small, square cloth, like a handkerchief and a small bottle.  

Clockwork reached out and touched Danny’s face, briefly tracing each of his features.  His lips, his nose, his eyebrows.  He slid his fingers down, pressing Danny’s eyelids closed.  The motion was gentle, but held a strange sort of finality.  

Danny found that he could not open his eyes.  

Fabric, soft and smooth, whisper thin, covered his face and was adjusted, straightened.  Something fragrant dampened it from above, near his nose.  More perfume.  He inhaled.  Exhaled.  Stopped.  

Stopped.  

Stopped.

Before he could have any more thoughts about not being able to breathe, the death mask was pressed into place.  The weight of it pressed the thin shroud over his face snugly into his skin.  It made his other limitations - his eyes, his breath, his general immobility - more acceptable, somehow. 

Other talismans were placed on his skin or tucked into the ribbons.  Some, he could identify by touch.  The ticklish barbs of a feather.  The cold roundness of another, smaller coin.  The familiarity of his childhood stuffed bear.  Others, his powers identified for him.  The sparkling wonder of a lunar meteorite.  The shiver of a carved piece of ghost ice.  The thrumming power and glory of a vial of ectoplasm shed by a god Danny had fought and defeated.  He hadn’t known they’d kept that.  

But other things were too strange to identify by touch alone.  He could make guesses.  Maybe that was a flower petal, maybe this other thing was a coil of string, and while he was sure that last was paper, he couldn’t say what was on it.  

With every token placed, another one of his powers was called up and locked away, like bound by like.  His awareness of the stars winking out as the meteorite was placed was sad.  The powers he’d ‘earned’ from that god being placed firmly out of his reach, however, was only a relief.

He was verging on helplessness, now.  Helpless, but unburdened.  

Clockwork started to speak.  None of the words were recognizable, but Danny knew the feeling of a prayer.  This one was old.  Old old.  Old even by the standards of ancient ghosts.  They hummed briefly in his bones before settling in them like lead weights.  Or golden ones.  

The edges of the sheet he was lying on were lifted up and folded over him, then tucked under him.  Wound around him.  It was a winding sheet.  Of course.  Of course.  The next cloth, too, was pulled up and over him, the motion a little more brisk now that the tokens were held in place by the first sheet.  Then, the next.  Cerecloth and cerements.  

Danny twitched a little, at first, at certain unexpected touches, but when the third wrapping added  its comforting, soothing pressure he was reduced (or, perhaps, elevated) to a state of perfect limpness.  

They added more tokens between the third layer and the fourth, but Danny couldn’t even begin to guess what they were.  They were too muffled by layers of silk - those layers being both the literal layers of cloth and the figurative layers of the ritual.  

Clockwork’s prayers were getting harder to hear, but Danny felt like he could recognize some of them, now.  Snippets of Akkadian, Egyptian, Greek, Latin, a word or two off the Oracle Bones.  Prayers for the dead, for their revenge and their remembrance, for their reverence and their reward, for their repose and their return.  

He was wrapped again and again, until the pressure, the gentle rocking motion necessary to wrap him, and the nearly unintelligible rhythm of Clockwork’s prayers threatened to lull him to sleep.  

He could hear snatches of Esperanto, now, and English.  

“... rest, and rest in peace… until waking… to hope… blessing in memory…”

Some parts of it felt familiar.  Others were strange, so strange, but he was bound so securely, now, that he almost felt as if he was floating.  

“... iron and wood, we entrust this most precious… an embrace… the hallowed graves… deliver and defend…”

No, he was floating, sort of.  He’d been lifted up, sheets and all, and now he was being moved sideways.  Sideways, and now down, down, into a snug cavity.  Was he bordered by flowers?  Pillows?  Both?  He couldn’t tell.  

“... into silk… like dust by sunlight into gold… changed… after a long day, to sleep…”

A faint weight draped over him, a final sheet covering him.  He felt, with a strange sense that lay deeper than instinct, further down and closer to his heart and soul, that Pandora, Frostbite, and Clockwork had drawn closer, that they were kneeling beside his casket or coffin, heads bowed.  

“Now we lay thee down to sleep,” whispered Clockwork, words startlingly clear despite his voice being harder to hear than ever, “we pray thy grave thy soul to keep, until thou choose the form thou take, and the hour thou shall wake.”

“And should thou never wake,” whispered - someone.  It was getting harder to tell the muffled voices apart.  “We shall mourn for thy sake.”

Very slowly, the force pushing in and down on Danny increased, deliciously.  It was almost enough.  

(Danny didn’t know where that thought had come from.)

A loud thump shuddered through Danny.  Another.  They were nailing him in.  Another restraint.  Another limitation.  Another step towards the cumulation of the ritual.  Almost.  Almost.  

Thirteen nails sealed Danny into the coffin.  

(He had been snug before.  Now, he wasn’t sure he could have moved even if the ritual hadn’t removed the ability from him.)

(All his powers were bound.  There was no more sense of responsibility keeping him awake.  His body was cocooned in every way possible.  There was no more fear about destabilizing and melting.  None of his choices would change what would happen to him next.  Only a curiosity about what it would feel like to be buried kept him from succumbing to his soul-deep exhaustion then and there.)

Vaguely, ever-so-vaguely, Danny could feel his coffin lifted, moved.  He knew where he was going.  Out of the mortuary shrine, across the lawn, down the rows and rows of graves, and to one grave in particular.  He’d wanted to be buried next to family, and Dani was his only family available.  

They stopped.  He was lowered.  Down.  Down.  Stopped again.  

A chill stole over Danny, like the cool side of a pillow, but all over his body, as if it meant to draw out the last of the warmth of life from his ectoplasm.  Restful.  

The dirt came down in sifted shovelfuls, like rain on a roof, like distant thunder.  And– he did have more powers, either so subtle he didn’t notice them as such or as of yet undiscovered.  These were buried as thoroughly as the others.  

Up and up the dirt piled, until he could barely feel it as it came down.  Until all that was left was the weighty, solid thump of a headstone coming down.  

Then there was nothing.  Nothing but silence, stillness, silk… and sleep.

.

Danny woke with the comfortable confusion of someone who had gotten their blanket wrapped around them unevenly while they slept.  Slow, unhurried, well-rested, but just slightly less cozy than expected.  

He shifted, mumbling and rolling over.  No, that wasn’t any good.  He made a face.  There was something on his face.  He reached up to wipe it off, and the sheets wrapped around him tore like cobwebs.  

That roused him further.  This… he did not think this was his bed.  It was his, but not his bed.

He wiped something thin and crackly off his face and inhaled deeply.  Dust.  Salt.  Dust, salt, and something like decay, but sharper, fresher, cleaner.  

He breathed, remembering.  His mouth tasted like silver and sugar.  His hands quested outward, seeking, seeking, until he found the edges of the space he was in.  

This was his grave.  His coffin.  

It was bigger than he’d imagined.

His eyes opened to a darkness relieved only by his own faint glow.  The many sheets he had been wrapped in had been reduced to fragile scraps, except a very few that remained stubbornly wrapped around his shoulders.  His mask was a thin shell.  The flowers were desiccated, colorless strands and flakes.  The pillows were flat and torn, showing the wooden sides of the coffin in places.  The only token he could see and identify was the plush and pristine form of Neil Bearstrong.  He gathered the toy close, pressing him against his chest.  

He’d made it.  He was awake, aware, and apparently stable, when before he’d been bracing himself for death.  He breathed out, breathed in.  His breath caught in his throat, and he giggled.  

Did that mean Dani had made it, too?

He rolled onto his back and put a hand against the lid of the coffin.  It looked strange there.  Disproportionate.  But of course it did.  His body had just finished reformatting itself into a stable form.  Frostbite had told him that he’d probably look different, maybe even radically different.  Clockwork had even confirmed that medical opinion, from a temporal perspective.

Positives: his hand was a recognizably human hand.  He was awake.  

He didn’t dare turn human - if he even could - until he had Frostbite and the others look him over.  He wouldn’t be able to phase through the Ghost Zone’s soil.  Teleportation was inadvisable while he was this disoriented.  So were portals.  And most powers, really. 

He’d have to dig his way out.  

Bracing himself, making sure his limbs were free of restraint, he drew back his fist to punch the lid.  The dirt would come in fast, and he wasn’t sure how deep he was.  Six feet was traditional, of course, but it was also traditional for the dead to stay that way.  So.  

The lid flew upward under the force of his strike, all the dirt overhead bending away.  He grabbed the edges of the hole and pulled down, widening it enough for him to claw his way out without warping his body.  He… wasn’t quite ready for that, after the whole melting thing.  

He burrowed upward, feeling like something between a worm and a badger, batting away dirt, crawling, squirming, reaching upward.  Despite his best efforts, some of the winding sheets came with him, clinging, slowing his passage.  Still, his hand hit free air.  Grass tickled at his fingers.  He set his palm down on the ground, and pulled.  

The dirt did not want to let him go.  It pulled back, its embrace offering an eternal peace, but Danny was firm, eager to go, to see, to live.  He pushed himself up, and out, then lay, panting, on the ground.  

That had been… more tiring than expected, actually.  

Someone propped him up, large hands bringing him into a sitting position.  “Daniel,” said Clockwork.  A loose and oddly cut robe was wrapped around him.  

“Mm,” said Danny, his voice cracking.  

A cup was raised to his lips.  He drank greedily, the sweet, floral liquid soothing his dry throat.  

“Shall we get you cleaned up?” asked Pandora, another hand, laid on the center of his back.  

“Can you walk?” asked Frostbite.  “Or fly?”

“Yes,” said Danny, hoarsely.  He reached up to put his hand on Clockwork’s shoulder.  It took some to get it there.  It was further away than he’d thought.  

He was smaller than he had been.  Not entirely unexpected.  Returning to one’s appearance at death was, apparently, one of the more common ways for this to go.  But had he really been this small at fourteen?

They did not go to the mortuary shrine, but made their uncertain way to the other shrine in the graveyard: the revival shrine.  The structure was much the same inside and outside, but it had only one altar.  The rest of the space was reserved for a bath, bed, and mirrors.  

Pandora guided him to a chair in front of one of the mirrors.  Danny stared.  He wasn’t much to look at right now, but what he could see of his body… 

It hadn’t been a winding sheet dragging at him as he’d crawled through the dirt.  It had been wings.  He shrugged the loose robe off his shoulders to see them better.  They were patterned with white and black, star and moon shapes on a dark background. He had antennae.  Long, soft, feathery looking things curving up and back from his temples.  

Clockwork brought a damp cloth to his face and, slowly, began to clean away the dirt.  

“Surprised?” asked Clockwork.  

“Are you?” 

Clockwork chuckled.  

“Did Dani– Is Dani–?”

“She woke seventeen years ago,” said Clockwork.  “She is quite smug about technically being older than you in terms of lived experience.”

“She would be,” said Danny.  

He pulled away from Clockwork’s ministrations to get another look at the mirror.  He had about the same proportions he did when he was a teenager, and his hair was as white as it ever was in ghost form, but it sparkled, as if someone had dusted it with silver glitter.  His antennae matched the color pretty well, too.  Star-shaped freckles littered his cheeks, and when he tilted his head this way and that…  There was an effect like a hologram, depending on the light, of a dark or glimmering domino mask around his eyes.  

And, beneath that, his basic features, the structures of his bones…  They looked about the same as they had when he was young.  Except… softer, somehow.  More neutral.  The change, as subtle as it was, gave him a genderless mien.

(The idea of that trend continuing elsewhere on his body didn’t bother him nearly as much as he would have expected before this.)

He wondered what he would look like in human form.  But… later.  Later.  

For now, Pandora was running a tiny brush though the delicate hairs of his antennae, removing irritating bits of soil and grass.  

“In fact,” said Pandora, “I would wager that she will be smug about physically appearing older than you.”

“She looks older than me, too?” asked Danny.  “That’s hardly fair.”

“That is the way of things, I’m afraid.  She hadn’t truly died until she was buried.”  

“But she’s okay?”

“She’s doing very well, last I saw her,” said Frostbite.

“And Jazz?  Sam and Tucker?”

“All fine,” said Clockwork.  “They visit you frequently.”

Pandora did something complicated with telekinesis that pulled most of the dirt from Danny’s skin and left him feeling distinctly fluffed.  The fuzz along the bases and upper edges of his wings stood on end.  He shook himself all over, then plucked the washcloth from Clockwork’s hands so he could clean behind his ears and in-between his toes.  

“Clothes?” asked Clockwork.  

“Cut for wings?” challenged Danny.  

“Of course.”