#violent zones au

[blood-injections]

Expanding on this extreme violent zones headcanon of mine. Warning for torture mentions, body horror and crimes against humanity.

So everybody is violent and deadly and in the zones where it’s every killjoy for themself, allies are hard to come by and friends, people you actually trust, are even harder. So if you have a crew, it’s ride or die. You’d do anything for your team and having one is proof that despite all your violence and the monstrous things you’ve done, you’re still human, you’re still capable of love and receiving it. Having a crew is Hope incarnate.

And the fabulous four are one of the tightness knit crews there is. They’re deadly and unparalleled in the sands but then in the safety of the diner, when they’re all out of danger for the night, they’re so domestic, gentle with each other, even. They’re a family.

But the thing is, while the desert may be a sin-stained wasteland, most killjoys still have some morals intact, still feet regret and grief and fear of the horrible things they have to do to survive. But in Battery City, there are no morals, no limits. They do things that make even the most messed up things the Fab Four have done look like child’s play. Dracs are expendable mindless zombies because they’re the spoils of human experimentation. Some can’t walk, they stumble through the desert on cheap prosthetic limbs, but they’re sent out anyway. The citizens have things in their heads that keep them in line. If someone acts out something inside them cuts out and they’ll drop dead where they stand. Androids are forced to do the dirty work whether they’re sentient or not. Some can think and dream but when it comes down to it they’re not in control of their own body, their limbs servants to programming no matter how advanced the circuits in their heads may be. Some have been stuck doing the same thing for years when they just want to live, but they have no control over their body and they must scream.

And Fun Ghoul, despite all his skills, was one day overpowered, captured and tortured within an inch of his life. There was a storehouse that was bugged and when they caught him on the surveillance feed they sent Korse to take care of him. He wasn’t taken back to Bat City, they did it right in that abandoned building they caught him in and when they were done with him they dragged him out into the blistering sunlight and left him there to bleed out, a meal for some passing scavenger.

The others were able to find him in time but in order to save his life, Jet Star had to do the very thing they swore they’d never do to a friend- tear him apart. And then put him back together again. When Fun Ghoul eventually woke up, he didn’t recognize himself. He was left with a stitched up, full ear to ear Glasgow smile that’s sure to leave a nasty scar, one blinded eye, a cybernetic leg from the left knee down, stitches all over from excessive lacerations and other little cybernetic parts to keep things inside him together.. and he had someone else’s lung and right arm.

Over time he made the best of his condition, owned his resemblance to something like Frankenstein’s monster, embraced it, even. But for a while he was in a stranger’s skin.

[kiwipineappleparasol]

Well? Go on!

[vala-dreams]

✨Void Cores au✨

The continuation, explanation thingy of this post which is just a bunch of headcannons—

1) Ghosts do not reproduce by themselves, they don't have functioning body parts, even the ones that can imitate human physiology convincingly. They have to search for untouched, pure ectoplasm which they can instinctively convert into a core that they keep around and feed ectoplasm to. After a while a ghost slowly begins forms around the core.

2) Functional cores hum. The ones that do not have been formed wrongly and are incomplete and will not form a ghost unless corrected and completed.

3) Not every creature in the gz is a ghost. This is a wrong assumption courtesy of humans. Also ghosts that were human are the ones to assume that they are ghosts. Most of them are correct— but some also turn into demons and the like.

3)Half of the residents of the gz are not ghosts at all, they are demons and other creatures of ectoplasm, basically the same thing as a ghost, with the exception being that they were never alive. Ghosts formed from cores that were made by other ghosts as in hc 1 were never alive in the first place and fall into this category. All residents of the gz are dead, but not all of them are ghosts.

4) The ghost zone (which is somehow sentient) has formed cores by itself before. For the formation of creatures like clockwork. It has not done so fir a very very very long time, until Danny. In Danny's case, the gz formed his core but instead of keeping it, gave it to clockwork. By gave I mean violently ripped open clockwork's stomach and left it right next to his core.

[krossan]

A Brief AU Explanation

I noticed that there are a lot of new followers that do know Danny Phantom, and others that the know very little. I am also aware that I haven't fully explained - maybe NOT in too much detail - the "story" and plots of my AU. You only have the ideas that I've been telling of this story through illustrations.

This AU is all about reconnecting with one self, with Jazz and Dan as the main two of this particular game.

Jazz remains as the same character that is portrayed through the OG show. She has always been the psychology enthusiast of the group, the one that cares for others and help with whatever she can. For her, others come first. First being her family.

On the other hand, we have Dan, an alternate entity of Danny’s ghost half and Vlad’s. A new form of entity that lost his humanity. For him to show any form of emotion is null.

Jazz involvement in this has to do with her putting everyone else first and then herself, and being keen to the study of the human-psyche, and now ghost-psyche, she secretly partakes to the role of Dan’s therapist. This was kept in secret from the rest of her friends and Danny until she can gain more control over Dan.

This, of course, prove to be a VERY difficult task. With her having to hide her constant fears when facing that “particular someone”: he could go on a rampage, have uncontrollable outbursts, cause havoc, and that he could turn against her any day/time without any remorse. She knows this, but she also knows that deep down, her little brother is still there. She’s looking to rekindle that part of him again. Of course, never knowing at what extent this could go.

And this, apparently started to bear fruit, although at a slow pace. As Jazz stood closer and closer to him, she understood that he stayed alone his entire life, and after losing everyone he cared, his violent actions were his significance of showing the world "hurting". The hurt he have been caring so many years. Now he has that second chance. To “live” a new life and Jazz wants to help him out.

With this new information, each time Jazz got close to him, Dan, instead of seeing her as an obnoxious-human-parasite, he slowly starts bonding with her. His interest increasing each day he is with her and grows more comfortable being around her (something Dan originally despised).

***

Part of this AU, enrolls on a particular context that the ghost of a halfa is sentient. The original show as proven this*. When Danny’s ghost has been separated, his ghost has a mind of his own, but when staying together, human-ghost, the consciousness of the halfa acts as one. *Episodes in question: What You Want, Identity Crisis, The Ultimate Enemy

This part that the ghost plays on the known halfas is a mayor plot point from this AU. Let me explain my concept briefly:

This roll that the ghost is part of the halfa is the one that caries the power of the wielder (human). The human can transform into the ghost and vice versa. The ghost powers remain within the ghost half. The human half acts as a vessel/host to the ghost half.

All living things have the instinct of survival. And on this case, the ghosts would do ANYTHING to keep their host safe as they are the means of a linked connection human-ghost. Not unlike the rest of non-halfa- ghosts that their link/host relies on the Ghost Zone -since they no longer have a corporeal body, the vessel for their survival is ectoplasmic energy, the one that emanates from the GZ.

***

Since Dan is no longer connected to a human, he became a full-ghost. An entity that merged from two ghost halfas. He can sustain himself alone, but strangely enough, he building a bond with Jazz, it rekindled what Jazz intended, but in an unusual way. Jazz intention was to try and reconnect Dan with his long-lost humanity. Even if he didn’t have a human half, both his ghosts may have some little information stored deep within of what that used to feel like. And even though that started to give results, the ghost also retained that of his original purpose: Protect the host.

And as the bond Dan and Jazz grew more and more, unknown to them, it caused a physical manifestation: a white streak formed in Jazz’s hair. And even if this came up as a surprise to Jazz, she later discovered that this manifestation was much more than just physical.

Dan rekindled his humanity but he, unknowingly, intertwined Jasmine’s humanity to his. Her humanity is part of him. Jasmine’s emotions have an impact on him. Whatever she feels, he can sense it, let them be good or bad ones.

They both are this new form of halfa, both human and ghost are separate life forms, but from the ghost side -Dan’s perspective- Jazz is acting as his human half. His host. That’s is why his instincts respond to protect her at all costs.

No. This new form of a halfa representation doesn't mean Jazz has ghost powers. The one with that power is Dan. This bond is more of a psychic link.

 (i.e. In European folklore, you “could” say Dan is Jasmine’s "familiar", although Jazz is not considered to be a witch, but imagine the possibilities of this small plot causing people or ghosts to think Jazz is a witch… idk… random ideas)

This is why Dan is more sympathetic towards Jazz and why their bond is very important.

______________

It's worth pointing out that I don't have a specific name for this AU, like many people do when they create these stories. And NO. Please refrain from saying this is a romantic relationship. It is a sibling/platonic relationship.

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

Halloween prompts year 2 day 9

Au where the accident happened when Danny was like, 7 and Danny starts to see his parents are really crappy people. Like full narcissists. Luckly hes young enough that the conditioning hasn't set in and he's just mad about it

Tired of being talked over, ignored, neglected, guilt tripped and otherwise emotionally abused, he wanders around the ghost zone to vent his frustrations through combat. Eventually a fortune teller/seer/oracle ghost makes him an offer, a fraction of his power in return for finding the family he seeks. He agrees and she tells him his birth fathers name is Jason Peter Todd and that he will require proof to believe this.

She then punts him into the portal that opened up behind him.

Danny seeks out Jason, excited for a family who might actually care about him. But when he finds him he remembers the ladys words and decided he needed to steal some of his dads hair for a dna test so he'll have proof both to prove to himself that the lady wasn't just messing with him and to show Jason. The problem was that Jason was a ridiculously light sleeper and kept waking up to Danny standing in the doorway/ at the foot of his bed/ next to his bed/ or invisible and making the room cold out of frustration.

Jason is freaking out cause he thinks hes hallucinating his child self standing in doorways and around his bed at night.

...and when he discovers the truth he has violent flashbacks to when he was searching for his birth mother and how that ended. So hes like extra overprotective of the kid that he suddenly can't freaking find cause he scared the crap outta him earlier thinking it was a demon/ manifestation of his trauma or something

Bruce and his flock are not coming within 500 feet of his kid

Unfortunately, Danny discovers that Jason is a crime lord as well as some of the horrible things he had done and thinks Jason is worse than his adoptive parents. It probably doesn't help that Jason threatened him and scared him off before finding out who the kid was.

Now Danny is trying to silence his sobbing (and failing) outside inthe Gotham rain. He's terrified and one of the other bats find him and they wind up chasing him around as a group because this kid is so slippery and obviously terrified.

Who would have thought that the only person he would be willing to talk to Robin, a fellow kid

[owliellder]

Two's A Crowd

College Bully! Leon Kennedy x fem! Reader

MDNI 18+

(Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5)

Description: College is proving to be a lot harder than you imagined. You cannot fail this math class. So when you've tried everything else, a well-known student is recommended to you by your professor for tutoring lessons, not really leaving you with much of a choice but to work with him.

Warnings: Not proofread, No Use of Y/N, Dub-Con, Unprotected Sex, Bullying, Yelling, Cursing

Tags: College AU, Bully! Leon, Shy! Reader, both are in their early 20's, Leon is Rude AF in the beginning, Loss of Virginity, Oral Sex, Fingering, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Additional Tags to be Added

Author's Note: Yay!! New multi-chapter fic in honor of 800 followers!!

I'm a sucker for tropes and mean Leon is one I can't keep out of my head. If you're not good at math then this is the fic for you! (also don't mind me slipping some Sky lore in here...)

Cross-posted onto AO3

Chapter 1

Growing up, college had always been a big dream of yours, leaving you fantasizing day in and out about all the possibilities that would open up, along with actually getting to live through the renowned “college experience”.

In reality, college was a lot harder than you were expecting. Your parents had told you to jump right into it after high school, fearing taking a gap year would ruin your good streak. The stress was starting to get to you and it was only a semester into your freshman year. All the tests, projects, and general studying really wore down on your mental health, not to mention you were failing the one math class you had.

You couldn’t tell your parents, no, they’d probably have a heart attack, especially since that math class was a prerequisite to another class that you needed to take. They were already worried enough that you hadn’t picked a major yet, so who knows how they’d take the news that you were failing right off the bat.

It was hard enough that you were feeling homesick. This was the first time you’d ever been this far away from home, studying at a university when you would’ve been perfectly content going to a community college closer to home. Your roommate was nice, but the two of you weren’t growing any closer than mere acquaintances, so it always felt awkward to just exist in your own dorm room.

Your eating habits worsened with the lack of any real food within five miles of campus. Sure there were a couple fast food chains on the campus itself, but they closed incredibly early. By the time you finished studying, which was around six in the evening, it had already closed. Not to mention that when they were open, the lines were comically long. University food was out of the question after you got violently ill from their “chicken nuggets”, so you were left with the little money your parents provided once a week to order takeout or make quick trips to the store to buy a frozen meal. Only one, since the mini fridge in your dorm was almost always occupied by your roommates stuff.

Everything was so exhausting and you were way out of your comfort zone having to use the community bathrooms for all your hygienic routines. Walking in always made you feel like you were interrupting a meeting in the president’s oval office with how many nasty looks you were given when all you were trying to do was brush your teeth.

The first thing you saw whenever you opened up Canvas was a massive F staring you down from the little box that comprised the majority of your math assignments and tests, making you feel less than worthless. This one semester alone helped you understand why so many people dropped out, this was hard.

By now you’d already gone to your math professor multiple times asking for redos or extra credit work. He was probably sick of seeing you since you showed up after almost every single assignment’s grades were submitted.

“Heeeyyy, Mr. Lebovic..” You said after knocking your knuckle against his open door to grab his attention. “Listen, about that last quiz, I-”

He cut you off with a wave of his hand before gesturing towards one of the chairs sitting in front of his desk. You hurried to sit down, watching nervously as he slowly pulled his eyes off his computer and onto you. “I get it, you don’t need to explain yourself.” His relaxed tone and faint smile was enough to ease your nerves a bit, letting your shoulders slump with a sigh. “You’ve been trying really hard, I can easily recognize that.”

You nodded eagerly, licking your dry lips as you opened your mouth to speak, only to be cut off again. “I’ve been looking into studying options that might help you. Resources are scarce for this material, but I think I finally have a tutor to help you out.” 

A wave of relief washed over you at the mention of tutor. Maybe you wouldn’t have to face the wrath of your parent’s disappointment after all! “Oh.. o-okay…” you stuttered, eyebrows furrowing as you silently beckoned him to continue.

“I teach another math class, it’s higher level, but I have a student in there that’s just taken up tutoring the material you’re learning.” Your professor seemed just as happy as you were about the opportunity. “His name is Leon Kennedy, he’s got one of the study rooms in the library from three to five in the afternoon on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays.”

It took you a second to process everything Mr. Lebovic was telling you before you scrambled to pull out a sticky note and a pen to write all the information down on. You heard the older man chuckle softly, looking over at him when he held out a small piece of paper to you. “I wrote it down already for you, don’t worry.” You wished you could’ve thanked him tenfold, but his office hours were closed for the day now, so you said a quick goodbye and hurried back to your dorm, holding onto the piece of paper like a lifeline.

Contrary to what your math professor thinks, you knew the name “Leon Kennedy”. You had a couple friends that you hung out with occasionally out in the grass in front of the science building and they’d brought him up before. The few vague bits of info that you’d heard weren’t flattering, painting this Leon in quite a bad light; the stereotypical jock in a frat flying by on a full-ride scholarship. However, he was your saving grace now and you needed to develop more of an unbiased opinion of him if he was going to help you raise your grade from an F.

“Yeesh, sorry I’m not better at math or I would’ve helped you.” One of your friends, Sky, spoke up as they read the piece of paper your professor gave you yesterday from over your shoulder. “Even if you were better at math, I still wouldn’t trust you.” Ella, your other friend, laughed out.

“Ha ha, yeah, Sky failed math four times. Big whoop.” Sky waved their hands dramatically before walking over to sit down next to Ella in the dead grass. “Seriously though, you’re better off taking a failing grade and dealing with your parents. Kennedy is the devil incarnate.”

“The devil incarnate sounds easier to put up with than my parents, so I’ll take my chances..” You grumbled, taking a seat on a medium-sized rock close to the pair. “Maybe he’s turning a new leaf? Deciding to tutor?” 

Sky crossed her arms and rolled her eyes which made Ella elbow them in the side before giving you a sympathetic smile. “Maybe so, but please just be careful. I don’t want you having to put up with some jackass that has an ego bigger than Texas.” 

You nodded with a slight frown, moving your foot side to side lazily to push the grass blades around. You didn’t even think to consider the repercussions of studying with some random junior. “I’m sure it’ll be alright. Besides, just tell Sky and I if he’s giving you any trouble. I know damn well no man likes to put up with two women yelling in his face.” Sky nodded and pointed to Ella for added dramatics. “Yeah, and I bite. My top six teeth are porcelain so that shit hurts. Trust me.”

Your friends never failed to make you laugh, a slight resolve in a pool full of worries, you suppose. “Don’t worry, you guys’ll be the first to know if Leon is mean.”

“Good. Now, when’re you gonna go see the guy?” Sky rested their arms on their knees before looking up at you. “Uh.. in a couple hours I guess. I already made the appointment.” Your response seemed to surprise both of your friends, giving them a confused look in response to their shocked ones. “Is that.. Is that not a good time?”

“No no, just.. I thought you would’ve maybe taken a little longer to go and see him.” Ella shrugged, reaching a hand up to scratch behind their neck. “Proud of you, taking the initiative like that.” She then looked at her phone before pulling herself off the ground with a small groan. “I got class in a couple minutes. Good luck with the frat boy.” 

She patted your shoulder as she walked off towards the larger building on campus, leaving you and Sky alone for the rest of the time. Part of you wished both of your friends could walk you to the library when the time came, but having Sky was enough. “So.. Leon’s bad bad?” You needed a bit more clarification on the guy you were going to spend one-on-one time with, something to calm you down after running through countless scenarios in your head.

“He’s not all bad, 'least I don't think. I’ve exchanged a few ‘hello’s’ and ‘excuse me’s’ with him here and there since we apparently frequent the same building.” Sky scooted over to the rock you were sitting on, placing the back of their head on your legs. A couple brown leaves blew over from a nearby tree which they grabbed and crunched with their hand. “I haven’t personally experienced any bad happenings around him, but he is part of a pretty notoriously rowdy frat, so you have to promise me that you’ll only study with him on campus and never go to that frat house or any frat house in general, alright?”

Sky pointed up at you, poking the underside of your chin which made you laugh again and swat their hand away. “As much as I rave about wanting to have the stereotypical college experience, going to a frat house was never part of my daydreaming.”

“Good. Keep it that way.” They switched their fingers to give you a quick thumbs up before letting their arm flop down into their lap, eyes closing with a sigh. “Anyways, besides all that, wanna go get some food? I don’t have another class today and you’ve got about an hour and a half to spare, so actually you have no choice. Get up.”

You stood up with a shake of your head once Sky pushed off of your legs who stood up as well with a small stretch. “Don’t burn me at the stake, but I kinda want grocery store sushi. I’m feeling lucky.”

“Please don’t.” You sighed, pocketing the piece of paper before beginning to follow behind Sky as they started to walk across the grass. 

After the two of you shared a sandwich from some random shop not too far off campus, Sky walked with you up to the library, stopping just before the front desk. They agreed to not wander in with you under the condition that you’ll go to their dorm straight after to discuss details.

To say you were nervous was an understatement. Most of what you heard about this guy meant he was bad news, though you really didn’t have much of a choice when it came to seeing him. Like your math professor said, there weren’t a lot of options when it came to studying the material you were learning. Sure you had the internet and other students in the class, but you preferred the idea of a tutor since you’d already exhausted yourself trying to follow along with various youtube videos. You needed the in-person teaching, it just stuck better in your head that way.

Slowly starting to walk, you made your way over to the study rooms lining the back of the library. The rooms seemed pretty private with the only window being on the door, which had glass nearly top to bottom. Thankfully the rooms were numbered and Leon had texted you which room to go to when you made the appointment with him, you had no idea what he looked like and you didn’t want to look like a creep eyeballing people through the door until you hopefully found the right person.

Standing off to the side, you could see the number you were looking for sitting above the door, taking a brief moment to collect yourself and hype yourself up to talk to someone who didn’t have the greatest reputation. Set aside everything you’ve heard and just hope for the best..

You took in a deep breath as you strode over to the door, glancing inside through the window before knocking to let him know you were there. The table was angled off more to the left so you didn’t immediately see him until he leaned over the table to see who had knocked. Confidence left you as soon as you made eye contact with Leon due to the groan you could hear through the door. It took you a couple seconds, but you eventually managed to get your body to work with you, hand turning the handle to let yourself in.

“-the last thing I need..” You caught the end of his little rant to himself as you opened the door. The saying “fake it ‘till you make it” is harder than it sounds since your entire body decided to betray you, deciding that shrinking in was the best move. Quietly, you shuffled over to sit across from him at the table, placing your backpack in your lap in some weird way to provide comfort in this situation.

“You weren’t supposed to show up.” Leon grumbled, sitting far back in the tilted chair as his feet lifted the front end of the chair slightly. His arms were crossed and he was giving you probably the nastiest look you’ve ever seen, next to your parents, of course. All you did was sit there giving him a blank stare. It was obvious what he’d said, yet the sheer forwardness of that snide comment had you more than confused. “What?-”

“You weren’t supposed to show up.” Apparently he felt the need to repeat himself with some added bite, barely letting you get a word in. “No one ever shows up to these shitty tutor- whatever the fucks.”

Wow. Okay. “Uh..” You didn’t even know what to say to that. It completely caught you off guard. You’d run through countless ways this interaction would go in your head, but this wasn’t one of those ways. The two of you sat in a very tense silence with Leon just glaring at you from across the table, continuing to rock back and forth in the chair.

Without uncrossing his arms, Leon lifted a hand and waved it around slightly while shaking his head. “Are you actually still gonna sit here orrr…?” The sound of his voice finally snapped you out of shock, causing you to shoot your gaze down to your backpack, fumbling with its partially broken zipper. “I-.. Mr. Lebovic recommended you..?”

You pulled out a few of your failed assignments from your bag before setting them down on the table with shaky hands, keeping your eyes glued to the papers to avoid that burning stare the man in front of you has. “I need-.. I need help..?”

“Do you?” Leon let the chair fall forward, his sarcastic tone starting to make your whole body tremble. “You don’t sound like you do.” He snatched one of your assignments from the table and held it up, pursing his lips as he studied the various red marks made on it closely. You chose to not respond to that, letting your hands rest on top of your backpack so you had something to squeeze.

He turned the page around, the sound of the paper wobbling the only thing you could hear right after the sound of the central heat blowing through the vent in the room. Suddenly, Leon started chuckling to himself, shaking his head incredulously as he flipped the paper back and forth a couple times before letting it fall back to the table. “This is terrible!” His laugh grew louder as he tilted his body to the side to pull out his phone, taking a picture of the assignments you’d put on the table. 

How on earth were you supposed to react to that other than just sitting quietly? He was actually making fun of you right to your face. Hell, he might as well point and laugh if he’s going to be this brasen. 

The most you could muster up was a quiet yet high-pitched “... huh?” in response to him. This whole ordeal was spiraling a little too fast for you to keep up with. You were expecting to put up with some grown man with a bratty attitude or even just a very uninterested, not all there jock with how Leon’s been described to you, not blatant bullying.

“Huh?” He mocked, taking one last look at his phone while loudly sucking on his teeth before pocketing it again. “Anyways, this is actually sad. How are you managing to fuck simple math up like this?” He roughly grabbed all the papers on the table and stacked them before partially tossing them back at you, some slipping onto the floor. “You’re too far gone, even I can’t fix that.”

You let out a gasp when the papers were tossed at your face, scrambling to catch some of them. Pushing the chair back, you leaned over to grab the few that fell on the floor, desperately holding back tears. “Please, you don’t understand.” You pleaded, voice cracking as you tried your best not to start crying in front of him. “I-I need to pass this class. I’m passing everything else, I just can’t keep up with this one!” You were speed-talking to try and argue your case, sitting back up with the small pile of papers that you struggled to stack properly.

Leon started rocking back in his chair again, arms back across his chest as he watched you with squinted eyes. The corners of his lips soon turned up into a smirk, taking in your sorry state before rolling his eyes with a dramatic groan. “Alright, alright, stop whining, jesus..” He cleared his throat, letting his head fall over the back of the chair. “I’ll help you only because I feel bad for you.” It’s not like he was going to admit that he was being forced to be a tutor, no one needs leverage over him like that

You couldn’t help but give a small smile despite his implication. It was a start. “And I’m not gonna do it today, either.” Well, the sooner the better, but still, it’s a start.

He then stood up from the chair, fixing his jacket with a sigh. “If you show up even a minute late on Friday, I’m not helping” and before you even had a chance to reply, he walked out of the room, the door shutting with a slam which made you flinch. Luckily, you were a very punctual person when it came to this kind of stuff. This was important, so if you had to show up early, so be it. You hurriedly shoved your assignments back into your backpack, not even fully zipping it up before rushing out of the study room, back through the library, and to the dorms.

“He said that?!” Sky yelled, quickly wiping their hand over their mouth to quiet themself once you shushed them. “I don’t really feel comfortable with you going to another ‘study session’ with that guy if he’s just gonna bully you.”

“I wouldn’t call it bullying-”

“He was bullying you.”

“OKAY! So what if he was?!” You fell back onto Sky’s bed with a sigh, arms splayed out with your legs dangling off the side. “I can handle it. As long as I get my grade up, who cares?”

Sky sat down next to you on their bed, giving you a sad look as you sat yourself up with your elbows. “I care. So does Ella. You shouldn’t put up with that just for a grade. I’m sure if you explain to your professor and-”

“And what? Tell him that I’m a grown woman getting bullied over something I should know by now?” You sat yourself up fully now, leaning forward to place your elbows on your thighs as your head rested in your hands. “It’s only until finals are over and we’re already halfway through October. Maybe I won’t even need that much time, maybe I’m just missing one simple… math move and it’ll get the gears in my brain moving again.”

You tilted your head to the side to look at Sky, head now resting only in your right hand as you took in their annoyed look. “Trust me. I can handle this.”

“If you say so.” They ran their fingers through her hair before looking away from you, directing their attention forward to stare off at nothing. “Just remember that I bite and I’m not afraid to use my fake chompers on that no good-”

“I don’t wanna think about escalations right now, but thank you.” You chuckled, playfully nudging Sky with your free hand before moving it back to hold your head up with the other. Though you were trying to convince Sky on this, you were mostly just trying to convince yourself that you could handle this. Handle Leon and his.. alluring charm..

Only until finals, maybe even sooner.

[long-live-astronerd-ghost-king]

Ectoberhaunt 2023. Day 5. Hunt and Haunt.

~Well, here we go again, good old Ghost Hunger AU~

Description: The Ghost Zone is inherently a violent place. You can hunt or be hunted, there is no other options. However, for some reason the Halfa does not understand what is happening. And no one rushes to explain it. NB! ghost cannibalism is mentioned.

Prompt after memes

Suppose there’s a conventional division among ghosts. Some of them are potential predators capable of hunting their own kind, while others are only able to absorb the surrounding energy and therefore build up power more slowly than hunters.

So, predation is used as a method of survival in poor ectoplasm areas of the Ghost Zone, less often as a means of gaining power. Even less often hunters are created.

It is obvious that the appearance of a hunter who is the son of human ghost hunters in a haunting place without stable sources of ectolasm has caused panic in the society of the dead ones. For the newly formed ghost to have ectoblasts, fangs or ghost sense is a rarity and great luck. So the newcomer had everything and more to be a serious threat. An awful danger for the surrounding spirits…Right?

But Danny doesn’t know the specifics of his new biology ectology!

Even though he’s a hunter, he’s never had a ghost hunger. Probably because thanks to his parents he has an amazing ectoplasm concentrator in the basement. Soon everyone understands that the boy does not attack first. Those who return through the portal never report any losses at all. He does not bite or attempt to capture cores of other spirits. At first, the ghosts think it's a trap. Smart enough for a beginner. Not everyone has the tenacity to pretend to be an idiot to get close to them. But the Phantom never feeds on them. He’s…safe?

What’s more, Danny seems to think they’re a threat to the city. Which is fun and weird. Normally, there is no competition for feeding using human emotion. But the owner of the lair did not like the smell of fear in the air. Is this ghost broken?

When the ghosts who visit Amity realize that the halfa does not know that he can hunt them, rather than just guard his territory...Well, it explains a lot. Everyone agrees not to explain the situation to the boy so that the city behind the portal remains a relatively safe haven during the during a "hunting season" and other troubles in the Infinite Realms.

~~~~~

The problem arises when Phantom begins exploring the Ghost Zone. What if the other hunters make the boy stop being a freak?

In addition, more experienced ghosts may well attack the careless halfa. And Amity Park under the control of a more predatory spirit would be a terrible outcome. Most dead ones near the portal are used to the fact that the area before Wisconsin is open to travel and migration without the threat of being eaten.

All rational ghosts try to avoid the territory of hunters. If you can’t defend yourself, there’s too much risk of being a free meal. It’s much safer to settle down with spirits with similar energy levels at door clusters. If the hunter does not purposefully show up at your lair, you will have a much better chance of keeping the afterlife.

Those of the Ancients who have won their position and those of them who were created for it have become accustomed to isolation. Although all the Ancients have lost the need to eat 'cause they have absorbed enough energy, legends about their past are still be nightmares for all spirits. Just because they don’t need to eat other ones doesn’t mean they won’t. It is clear that a weaker hunter can also be hunted. No reason to risk.

Therefore, how freely and fearlessly Phantom communicates with Frostbite, Clockwork or Pandora is puzzling. Does he feel threatened at all? The Ancients find this experience refreshing. Lil communication without fear makes them feel sympathy for this youngling. Danny is always glad of their company. And the boy is not afraid to express his opinion. It is strange but...pleasant?

Their minions from time to time complain that they teach a potential enemy but it is very difficult to see a possible rival in Phantom. Danny is always in trouble. The youngster is silly and careless. Like a wet kitten that can’t even make a threatening hiss. So Ancients, to their own surprise, don't mind helping him. Why isn’t his naivety annoying?

For example, Frostbite’s trying to teach Danny hunting and tracking techniques because he thinks the little cub doesn’t know how to be what he supposed to be. Meanwhile Danny sees his attempts as a course of self-defense that he can use against ghosts who try to infiltrate his city.

~~~~~Bonus~~~~~

Some insufficiently powerful ghosts mimic predators to scare away dangerous spirits and protect themselves. Skulker is quite pleased that he managed to deceive halfa:

[starry-bi-sky]

childhood friends danny and jason miscellaneous thoughts: because why not, i'm reworking ch2 because it no longer fits with the remaster of chapter 1 so i've been thinking of them, and i love talking about them. which you should totally go read the remaster because its 26k words and im very proud of it and it barely got any attention.

First off Ellie vapes. Mostly because I think its real fucking funny. The first time Danny finds out about it he gets all up in arms about it. Ellie at first thinks its because she's smoking -- which, helloooo pot meet kettle, Danny has been smoking for a lot longer than she has.

And then he throws a curveball at her and says he's upset specifically because its vaping. Like no, no. Dammit, if you're gonna fuck up your lungs you gotta do it properly, none of this cotton-candy flavored nonsense.

He plays it up for laughs and it's largely non-serious 'i can't believe you're using a vape', if only to hide the fact that he is genuinely displeased with his little sister smoking. Self-destructive behaviors and bad habits are his thing, thank you very much.

But, well, he knows he'd be a hypocrite if he told her he didn't like that she was smoking. He's aware its bad for him, but habits are hard to break and he's not particularly keen to break this one in particular.

Danny bullies her relentlessly about it whenever she vapes in front of him. Like don't be a loser, Elle, carry a carton of cigs and a lighter in your back pocket like the rest of us degenerates.

[more under the cut]

Secondly: Danny's piercings? He got the first lobe piercings as a lost bet from Sam in junior year, and they did it in her room with a needle, a small bottle of blood blossom extract, and an apple. He broke out in hives for a week after thanks to the blood blossom, but it prevented the hole from healing up :)

He got the rest done professionally at a piercing place in the Ghost Zone. He asked Johnny where to find it. Sam and Johnny (and Kitty) nearly convinced him into getting snakebites. He got an eyebrow piercing instead.

Danny's undercut is also self-done, he did it because Technus shot at him with an ectoblast and it missed hitting him, but set his hair on fire. Danny got it out pretty quickly, but it left his hair lopsided and obviously looking like it got burned by something. He went to Sam for help after the fight. He liked the way it looks so he's kept it that way since.

-

Vlad brought up Jason once(1) in a taunt during a fight, and this was after Jason disappeared from the ghost zone, and Danny very. very nearly killed him on the spot. He hasn't done it since.

Which leads into the other thing: Grief Triggers! As I call them. All Banshees have them in this au.

While all banshees are, in general, in a permanent state of grief, Grief Triggers are a specific emotional response that can cause them to spiral into a state of intense, sometimes debilitating sorrow, and most of the time causes them to start wailing.

Banshees know what their Grief Triggers are and in general tend to try and build up a form of resistance against it so that, if something occurs that happens to trigger said grief, they can at least either get away from other ghosts to let loose or have enough control over themselves that it'll take more work to send them spiraling.

As expected, Jason is Danny's grief trigger. He's built up a pretty good resistance to it so that hey, talking about him and his death is easier than when Danny was fourteen. But a little more prodding and it will trigger, especially depending on who brings him up and how. (See: Vlad)

Grief Triggers also manifest relatively the same; with the induction of an intense state of grief and sorrow, but how a banshee acts on it can sometimes vary. Again, it depends on who triggers it and how. Some of them can get,,, violent, depending on how it happens.

Rath, this au's 'Dan', is a case of a banshee being put into the grief state caused by grief triggers and... never really leaving it. Which they usually do on their own, or with help depending on the severity of it.

At the time it happened Danny was going through the worst week of his life a second time: his best friend's ghost disappeared, then his family and friends all died right in front of him, and then he was stuck with someone who wasn't helping him through that grief.

He was already in the grieving state when Vlad tore out his ghost half. As a result, Vlad only made it worse. With that fury thrown into the mix, Vlad ended up getting torn apart and nobody else was close enough with nor could they get close enough to Rath to help him come down from the wailing state.

So Rath ended up getting stuck in a perpetual negative feedback loop of absolute misery, and well... drove himself insane. The rest of the world became collateral as a result.

-

the difference between Danny and Jason lies in the fact that Jason died, while Danny is dead.

-

I'm having more thoughts on the CFAU/TMWS universe banshees, actually.

Banshees are either born in the ghost zone from ectoplasm and are ecto-entities and work as banshees as how we know of them, or they're human spirits that died mourning someone and that grief was so intense that it turned them into a banshee. They're a little more rare.

These banshees typically mourn only one person, or sometimes they follow their Realm-born counterparts and choose a family to mourn for. Typically their own.

Ember is not a banshee; human spirit banshees are always mourning another person. However, her abilities emulate certain qualities of banshees: like the beautiful singing. But in comparison to an actual banshee, Ember's voice pales.

Does this mean Danny has the better singing voice? Yeah. Ember is incensed by this.

-

If canon Danny and CFAU/TMWS Danny met, I think canon Danny would be kinda unsettled or off put by CFAU.

CFAU Danny still has some pretty core Danny traits, at least I like to think so -- his general drive to help people just out of compassion for them (even if it manifests differently at first due to trauma), his wit and humor, his fear of failing to protect his loved ones, all of those resonate with canon Danny.

However, canon Danny, as far as I can remember and as far as his wiki goes, rarely gets extremely angry or emotional. He gets irritated and he gets annoyed but him getting mad I don't think happens super often. CFAU Danny is the angrier one between Jason and Danny. It's one of the things I consider a division point between him and canon Danny as it's a result of him growing up in Crime Alley. Canon Danny is canonically shy and meek prior to becoming Phantom, CFAU Danny couldn't be -- he'd be dead already.

CFAU Danny's anger would off put canon Danny, in my opinion. His anger, his smoking, and for lack of a better term, his bloodlust would unsettle him.

Like, for example, say CFAU Danny gets transported to a canon (or canon-adjacent) Danny's universe. He's staying with canon for a little bit as they brainstorm how to get him back home, and CFAU Danny goes to school with canon if only so that he's not stuck in the house all day.

Whether they try and pass CFAU Danny off as canon's cousin or if the town already knows that he's another version of Danny, it doesn't matter. Because insert Dash.

Dash who, in CFAU Danny's world, has since learned not to fuck around with Danny or the other kids because Danny has long since asserted that he will beat his ass if he does. 'Fucking around' always predates the 'finding out', and Danny is happy to act as consequence.

(As my father told me (paraphrased) when I was a small child and full of uncontrollable anger: "there's gonna be a day where you're gonna hit someone, and they're gonna hit you back")

And canon Dash, who is used to canon Danny who kinda just takes it because it means that he won't target other people, would see CFAU Danny. He'd notice the resemblance between him and canon, immediately try and go "oh new target!", and try and bully him the same way he does to canon. And Danny "I am the consequences of your actions" CFAU Fenton, instantly throws hands.

Just, CFAU Danny is kind but he's also Gotham-raised and full of bite; he's meaner than canon is. He's more ruthless too, especially in his ghost fights. The ease of which he slips into violence would, imo, discomfort canon. CFAU and Canon would eventually get along though, they're not so different that they'd be in constant clash of each other.

(Canon Danny and Danyal Al Ghul however,,, thats another post LMAO)

[itshype]

Excuse me, do you work here? (DC x DP)

This is sort of based off of the core idea behind The second, secret Justice League, so mayhaps consider reading that if you haven't? It'll take you 2 minutes max. Also, here's my masterpost.

So, Danny frequently works with the JL headquartered in the Infinite Realms. Basically, every League-Adjacent hero who died in costume chose to continue their work and make the Violent Afterlife a little safer. It's lead by Jason Todd as Batman (he never revived after Joker killed him in this AU - ....yet?) and has whomever else you like it in it. It's still just called the Justice League because with the zone inhabitants being long dead, never born or aliens, enough of them are unfamiliar with Justice League Earth.

They're better than ghost cops because they all died within the last decade. They remember what it is to be alive, they remember living people who they love and it changes the way that their minds think about crime and criminals in the zone. Their criminals are still people, not just obstructions to their obsessions.

And in a fun swap, Jason lives in mortal terror of the day anyone dares to kill the Joker. He hopes that asshole lives to the age of 108 and dies peacefully in bed so the chances of the Joker becoming an ecto-entity are as low as possible.

The regular, non-secret Justice League are kidnapped by a cool Alien species who want to make them fight. Not to the death, unless you feel like it, but more as a exhibition match. Martian Manhunter, Superman, Green Lantern and Constantine are not pumped to be kidnapped but the Lantern explains that doing well in this tournament will be super great going forward. If other planets hear about Earth's robust defence, they're all going to be less likely to fuck around and find out in future.

So, Constantine, in his infinite wisdom decides to - while they wait for the whole thing to start - summon the "best equipped" Justice League member to fight on their behalf. This other member (he assumes it will be Wonder Woman or Plastic Man) will probably not love being taken to a new planet. But, it's for the greater good and they'll all be taken home later.

But he didn't specify which Justice League - not knowing there are two. A 14 year old (looking) boy shows up. Superman is furious. Constantine, trembling with horror in what his hasty actions have done, explains everything.

Danny's thrilled, he's on a NEW PLANET?! He's met a MARTIAN? And he gets to do a low-stakes fight that could save millions of lives someday? This is the best day ever!

Danny tells them he's gonna fight, and he's gonna win, and they're going to help him get in touch with Batman on Earth when he's done. As payment.

He wants to tell Earth Batman that Ghost Batman loves him and never blamed him etc etc. Things Jason didn't exactly tell Danny to tell Bruce, but that he's mentioned to the team as wishing he could reach out and tell Batman before. (Why doesn't Jason go to Earth? Maybe he doesn't know which one, maybe the idea of being on the same planet as Joker sends him into a destructive rage, maybe he thinks telling Bruce he's still out there would do more harm than good... idk)

4 adult heroes watch in awe as Danny does a magic girl transformation into Inverted Danny and starts pulling more and more powers out of absolutely nowhere. Danny obliterates his competition and everyone is scared to hell of him. He gives an unwanted speech about what an honour it was to represent his solar system (he's thinking of his new bestie Martian Manhunter's culture's safety too).

It's only on the way home in the spaceship owned by the tournament mangers that it occurs to any of the Normal Justice League members to ask how this kid they've never even heard of is a member of their team and what he wants to discuss with Batman.

[bettyfrommars]

Bloodstream

vampire!eddie x supernatural!fem!reader

from the Death Becomes Us au

18+ONLY, smut, period sex, (f) receiving oral while on their period, unprotected p in v, wet dream, blood, the pet name 'sweetheart', drinking blood.

wc: 3.4k

Reader in Death Becomes Us is also supernatural and has some physical scars that are mentioned in this. Eddie is her neighbor in a trailer park filled with vampires, in a town where vampires are basically a tourist attraction. Bits of these things are mentioned, but this can easily be enjoyed as a stand-alone.

ALSO, this is pure smut that does not progress the story one bit 😂 So, if you'd rather skip it, you won't miss any crucial information.

I've had several requests for vampire!eddie smut and, even more specifically, vampire!eddie with a reader who is on their period, and so this was born. I've had this sitting finished for so long, I wasn't sure I would post it.

You hadn’t realized you’d drifted off to sleep on the sofa in front of an episode of The Twilight Zone until a knock at the door made your adrenaline race into action.  It was a dark, moonless night, and the only illumination in your trailer was from the television, a string of tiny pumpkin lights along the window, and a flickering candle on the counter in the kitchen.

The time on the VCR said 11:46 and you got to your feet with caution, figuring it had to be a vampire at the door—you just weren’t sure which one.

“It’s me. Eddie,” his voice was a mumble out on the porch.

The sound made your heart stutter.

“What do you want?” You asked, pausing with your hand on the doorknob so you could look out the peephole.  He was standing back a ways, hands in his pockets, elbows out, and a black shirt unbuttoned down his chest. He looked particularly dressed up, as if he’d been hustling the unsuspecting wealthy widows down at the country club.

You watched him smirk at your question.  “Can’t a neighbor come by and say hi? I saw your TV was on.”

You gave a quick glance down at what you were wearing, making sure you were decent, but also to make sure you didn’t have crumbs all over you from the dry cereal you were eating earlier.

 “I haven’t seen you around all week,” you got flustered after you said it, not wanting it to sound like you were waiting around for him and counting the minutes.  

“Yeah,” he gave his lips a generous lick, wetting them until they were shiny. “You realized I was gone? Does that mean you missed me?.”

There was no formal understanding or commitment between the two of you, but also, there was something unspoken that compelled you to worry about him when you didn’t see the whites of his eyes for a few days.  

You opened the door and inclined your head, motioning for him to come in, and moved back so he could step in off the porch.  You’d already invited him in once, and unless you rescinded that invite, he could technically come in whenever he wanted.  

He waltzed in like he owned the place, picking up small things as he went to inspect them, looking around as if trying to catch you in the act of doing something.  You were just about to offer him some of the NuBlood you had in your cabinet in the event of a vampire guest when he stopped abruptly and took a long, violent inhale, and held the breath in his puffed out chest.

His eyes narrowed on you and began to darken.  He sniffed the air again, and then his eyelids fluttered a bit as if he’d caught a whiff of heaven.  The tip of his tongue shot out from between his ejected fangs.

“It’s that time of the month huh?” He asked it very casually, like a doctor might, and at first you wondered what he was referring to, but then you felt a sudden wetness in your underwear and a pang from your uterus.

“You can smell it?” You asked, stepping away.  “I didn’t even realize that I—” 

“You just started,” he told you in the same matter-of-fact way, turning on his heel.  He walked over to the vanilla sugar candle, hoping it would mask the scent so that his cock wouldn’t come to attention right there in your trailer because his mouth was already watering.  “Maybe I should come back another time,” he gripped the side of the counter so hard, he almost broke a piece of it off.

“Um, it’s okay, just, well, give me a second to—” you were about to walk by him on the way to the bathroom when his arm shot out as a barrier, catching you at your chest.

“No, stay,” he whispered.  When your eyes met, you wondered if he was using that glamouring technique on you to make you do whatever he wanted, but then you remembered that you were impervious to vampire powers.  

He took a step, closing the distance.  You could see his abnormally slow heartbeat under the cold, pale, tattooed landscape of his throat.  He tilted his chin up an inch as if exposing it more for you, watching with attentive eyes as you drank in the curve from his jaw to his neck, to the collar of his shirt.

“Like what you see?” Cocky and bold as ever, but this time, he was really asking.  He really wanted to know.

You ignored his question, searching his face.  “Why haven’t we ever kissed before?”

He choked at that abrupt outburst and attempted to smirk, but then cleared his throat.  “Would you like to change that, sweetheart?”

“Maybe,” you stepped so that your leg was touching his, and his plump pink lips parted, eyelids drooping, anticipating your next move.  Eddie opened himself up to you, pulling his shoulder blades back so that you could have his chest and throat, accepting whatever offer you had in mind.

"You're so cold," you mused, and then you were moving in, putting your warm mouth to his throat, relishing the smooth, cool flesh on your lips.  You flicked your tongue out to make him groan a little, his hands moving to dig his fingers into your hips.  He smelled like Ivory bar soap and fresh earth and vanilla musk, with those soft, nicotine undertones.  

“I might be on the verge of melting,” he slid one hand between your legs and the damp heat that was building there.  You nipped at his cool skin, sucking it through your teeth, while your hands worked up his ribs to find his nipples with your thumbs.  

“I was wondering when you’d finally take advantage of me,” he offered a low chuckle. The laugh had a bit of nervousness in it, though, and his voice cracked at the end.  

You could feel the vibration from his sound, licking a stripe up until you found his chin.  He dropped his head, catching your mouth with his, and there was nothing practiced or cautious about the kiss—it was messy and desperate, and his ringed fingers found a home between your legs, making you moan.

The blood was seeping through your clothes, and for sure there was a stain through the material of your sweats by now. 

“Your smell is making my mouth water,” he broke free from the kiss to put his forehead to yours, but his fingers continued moving in circles on the right spot.  You blinked up to find that his eyes were closed.  “It’s probably not a good idea for me to be here right now," he bit out, reluctantly.

But he didn’t move, and you curled your thumbs into his belt loops to catch him if he tried.  He rolled his forehead back and forth across yours, making your noses brush while the pads of his fingers applied more pressure.  

“Have you ever—” you trailed off, words catching in your throat as his hand breach the elastic of your bottoms.  “---done this while someone was on their—-”

Eddie paused with his fingers on the skin of your lower belly, making their way down.  He pulled his head back to get a read on your facial expression, but you were one of the few people in the world that was a mystery to him.  “I’ve never had the pleasure.”

“Won’t it be…messy?” 

“I like messy,” and then he chomped his teeth, biting the air between the two of you, before moving in to find your lips again, cupping the side of your face with his hand.  His mouth did not close in on yours fully, but the tip of his tongue came out to catch your top lip.

You were up against the kitchen counter now, and you latched onto Eddie’s strong arm, encouraging his hand further down.  You gave a muffled cry into his mouth when the pads of his fingers found the wetness seeping through your underwear.

It was too wet to be pure arousal, and just then the coppery tang scent hit the air, making Eddie suck in a sharp breath.  “Blood from the uterus lining is some of the sweetest there is,” he growled the words, bypassing your underwear so that he could dip a finger down through your folds, rings clicking together.  You pulled down on his arm like a lever until one of his fingers was sinking inside of  you, making you gasp. Your walls clenched him, and you begged for another finger, “more,” so he obliged.  

“The way you’re gripping around me—fuck,” Eddie said against your lips. 

Your knees trembled as he fucked his fingers in you a few times, twisting them, curling them in deep, and then he started to pull out, slowly.

His eyes were pure black when his lids flicked open; tips of his fangs peeking out from between parted lips. 

He brought his fingers up into view, and they were glistening with your crimson gift, dripping down his knuckles, and he admired the sight.  You wondered what he would do, at first, but then you watched those digits disappear deep into his mouth, lips sealing around them at the base.

He swallowed a few times, and then sucked each one individually, cleaning up the drips on his hand with a greedy, quick tongue. When he was done, there were signs of his feast in the corners of his mouth, and in the shadowy flicker from the candle flame, it looked like he’d just devoured something smothered in barbeque sauce.   

“You taste so good,” he breathed, forehead on yours again, his hands making fists in the material of your sweats, arm muscles tense, using all of his willpower not to rip them from your body. His tongue lashed out, tip beckoning in little curls, and you met the need with your own, tasting yourself on him.

It didn’t take long for you to be on the sofa in the living room with your sweats off and Eddie kneeling between your spread legs; a multitude of scars from ankles to hips on full display.  He looked up at you first, eyes a pure, marble black, and you nodded, scooting hips forward so he could push your legs further apart.  

A bit of tinted drool shone at the edge of his chin as his mouth found the mound of your arousal over your underwear, licking and sucking over the fabric, tasting you, nipping with his teeth.  His tongue flattened out and dragged long and hard up your slit, making you cry out under your breath.

“Eddie,” you whimpered, sucking your bottom lip in through your teeth.  Your pussy was literally aching for him, throbbing under the weight of his licks.

You had a hungry vampire between your legs, and he could snap your leg off at the hip like a twig if he wanted to. He could bite down on your femoral artery and drain you without breaking a sweat. 

Your menstrual juices were painting his chin when he sat back to pull your underwear off and get rid of the final barrier, staring up at you as he did so.  You sat forward, and he thought maybe you were going to push him off, but you held his head with both of your hands, guiding him in.  “I want to cum in your mouth.”

His head lowered without pause, with the tremble of a grin on his soft lips, and he kissed your cunt first before you felt his tongue sink into your hole. Low moans were coming from deep in his chest as he fed, taking generous swallows.  You rocked your hips up against his face and held his head there, whining when he moved his mouth up to roll his tongue in circles over your clit.  

“Oh god, Eddie, oh fuck,” you shuddered.  

He’d been starving for you for so long, not only for your blood, but for your scent, your pheromones, your taste. He wanted to kiss you from the inside out, he wanted to swallow you whole again and again, and still have you left over. He wanted you to know his secrets, to see the darkness in him and not be afraid.

You pushed his mouth off of you, for a second, to find that he was panting and pussy drunk, and you could see your reflection in his two black pools.  You ran your thumb down his lips, catching the mess, and then pushed the thumb into his mouth, and he moaned, closing his eyes to suck it clean, one sharp fang dragging along your flesh.  

You locked eyes with him, jaw going slack, and he dropped back down again to draw a few deliberate licks through your folds, fingers digging into your thighs.  

With a gust of determination, he decided to switch the position. Eddie went to his back, flat on the ground, and pulled you with him so that you were on your knees above his head, straddling his shoulders.  

Staring up at your pussy, he buried two of his fingers into you again and muttered, “god, you’re so fucking beautiful open wide for me like this.” He watched your hole spread out as a drip of blood rolled down his palm. 

“Sit down,” he murmured, removing his fingers so that you whimpered, clenching on nothing. “Sit all the way down, pull all your weight on me, sweetheart.”

He coaxed you where he wanted you, his strong hands firm at your hips.  You went down until you could feel his nose nestled at your clit and then his tongue darted inside of you with supernatural force.  He fed on you for a few seconds, and then he was sucking at your bundle of nerves again, humming as he did so.

“Eddie! That’s—I’m so close,” you rolled your hips and grabbed some of his hair in your fist, making him mumble with pleasure.  You braced your other hand on the ground at his shoulder to anchor yourself, even though you knew he had the strength to hold you.  You were all but suffocating him now, bucking against his face.

 Eddie could feel your sweet bud under his tongue get hard and he knew you were close.  His cock twitched in anticipation, leaking arousal in his jeans.  

“I’m gonna cum…fuck, I’m cumming!” It was then that the velvet walls began to crash around you, and your hole rippled at his chin.  You arched back and released into his mouth, losing control.  Between the cum and the blood, you felt like he owned a part of you know—you’d given him a potent cocktail that no one else would ever know the pleasure of.

He didn’t want anyone else to know the pleasure of it.

He let out a sound that was part man, part beast, and pulled the cheeks of your ass apart so that he could retrieve every drop from your slit, slurping as he did so. He drank while you came back to earth, trembling, moving your core back and forth over his face.

You went to crawl off, to move away and give him some air, but he locked you in place.  “I’m not done,” his voice was muffled.  You giggled at the sound of his lips smacking, but then you quivered at the way he continued to lap at your slit .

Once his grip loosened, you moved to get off of him completely, but he coaxed you back to sit on his chest, rubbing his hands up and down your thighs.  

When he lifted his head up, his chocolate eyes were human again, his pale skin smeared with blood; down his chin, across his cheeks, even the tip of his nose.  He bit down on his bottom lip and sucked it through to catch some of the excess, giving a contented sigh.

You reached behind you to feel the outline of his cock straining in his denim. 

“Yeah?” He asked, searching your face as he moved to undo his belt buckle.  “You want that?”

You nodded, at a loss for words at what was happening. Once you heard his jeans unzip, you sent your hand down to breach the elastic of his boxers, salivating when you found the wet tip.  “Can I?”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Eddie reach down over your legs to push his jeans down further, releasing the thick, hard length. “You don’t even have to ask.”

He lifted his head to watch  you line his cock up with your dripping hole, and when you began to ease down, your warm, wet walls contracted around the head and Eddie hissed.  Your mouth opened as you sank, needing the way he stretched you out to the point that it was almost painful.  

You gasped as you bottomed out, meeting his hooded gaze.

“You know, you can have this whenever you want,” he breathed. “This is all yours.”

“All mine? No one else’s?” You were riding him now, teasing him at the tip with a few muscle clenches before dropping all the way down again.

You lowered your torso so that your bodies were pressed together and Eddie bucked up into you deep and slow a few times. 

Your lips were an inch or two away from his, and you watched his eyes go black again as another hunger seized him.  “Tell me,” you pushed. “Tell me that you belong to me now,” you purred.

Somehow, you could feel another orgasm mounting when the smell of your blood on his lips crowded your senses.

He slotted one hand at your jaw, thumb cradling your ear, and with the other, he coaxed your hips down to take him deeper, and his thrusts snapped up to meet you.

“I’ve always been yours,” he whispered it around a hard swallow, just before your mouth came crashing down, tasting yourself on him, wanting to inhale his words so they could feed you in a different way.  There were tears building for some reason, and you blinked your eyes open to meet his gaze, to see if he was emotional too.

And then, you woke up.

It took you a full minute to adjust to the harsh, unwelcome morning light as you became aware of the full sun exposure of your bedroom. 

You coughed a few times, feeling the wind get literally knocked out of you when you realized the truth of the situation.

You’d had too many vampire Eddie sex dreams to count at that point, ever since you’d ingested his blood that night after you were attacked, but this one in particular left your heart heavy and your pussy aching.  

Normally, you’d have to reach for your vibrator to finish yourself off when you woke up from the throes of one of those wet dreams, but this time, you only felt sad, and the desire for pleasure was gone as soon as you adjusted to reality.  

You hadn’t fallen asleep in front of the tv, Eddie had never come knocking, and the two of you had never so much as kissed.  You also had not caught a glimpse of him in over a week, since he’d taken you to visit Sacrament, the vampire bar in The Upside Down.  You’d seen a different car at his place a few times, probably just popping in to take care of his cat, but other than that—nothing. 

You wondered where he went at night, and you wondered if he ever thought of you.  

In real life, you wanted nothing to do with him, but these vampire-blood induced dreams were really starting to mess with the integrity of your resolve. 

Also, you realized that you’d just started your period.

You stood wearily from your bedside and carried the remnants of a familiar disappointment with you to the bathroom, and then the kitchen, angling for some coffee to make it better.  You poured water into the Brewmaster you found at a thrift store and flipped it on to percolate while you went to water your one plant in the window. 

Your eyes lifted groggily to look outside as you hydrated your potted friend and noticed that Eddie’s GTO was parked out front of his place.  The blackout curtains to his trailer were all pulled shut so tight, you couldn’t get a glimpse inside, so at least you knew he was home.

Suddenly, you were flooded with a sexually frustrated irritation that made you curse his name into the void.

Part 7

[fiddles-ifs]

[ID: A banner-style graphic featuring a coyote's open mouth on a dark black background. Orange all-caps text near the bottom of the image reads: "happy birthday Greenwarden." /end ID]

Happy birthday to my firstborn problem!! I'm trying really hard to not think about how long it's actually been, but to celebrate Greenwarden being mysteriously old I'm posting a former Patreon snippet! I'm also announcing that 1) I quit me day job, and 2) I'm going to be compiling a bunch of Greenwarden shorts that would have gone up on Patreon if I had kept it up. More on that to come when I get all my ducks in a line.

GRAVEROBBING AND NECROMANCY FOR DUMMIES

Marianna & Tracker. 16+. Grimdark Fantasy AU. Scofiddle Pepper Rating: Bell Pepper.

Content Warnings: Blood, minor wounds, implied mind-control, mentions of death.

Mausoleums always have a certain smell — mold, mildew, cracking damp stone. The decay of rock and mortar, but never flesh. The sarcophagi are tightly sealed with both wards and wax, partially to keep the smell at bay. No air, nor Light, nor hands will ever creep inside them. The Silent Mercies do their grim work and do it well, keeping them locked up tight. Then they leave — that's the extent of their dues to the dead.

They can count themselves lucky. Corpses don't exactly make great company. Particularly when some of them are itching to come back.

You can't help but feel like there are eyes on you, your torch cutting through the dark, damp guts of the tomb. An intrusion. Indigestion. The violent, flickering orange light makes the shadows greasy. You'd use a magelight, but you're already dancing on the razor-thin line between bravery and stupidity; you don't want to risk waking something. Someone. 

They were people once, allegedly, but you know what pride morphs people into.

Particularly powerful necromancers resist even the cleansing fire of holy Light, their sentience existing in each molecule of ash, slowly piecing themself back together with sheer will and hate. It may take hundreds — maybe thousands — of years, but eventually they will come back. So, the Temple does what it can. The liches are bound, still conscious, and placed in a sarcophagus. The sarcophagus is sealed — with prayer, with wax, with chains and locks both physical and magical — and a mausoleum built around it. The Silent Mercies make their rounds indefinitely, strengthening the wards and installing ever more complex locks. Hundreds of years turn into thousands.

The hopeful end result is a stark raving mad lich warlock that will, if all goes well, blissfully prefer the judgment of the Light before they suffer one more second of silent, unmoving, stagnant solitude. Time and again the methods of the Temple are proven effective. Terrifying, and effective. Most choose to vacate their own bodies than live in the dark for an undetermined amount of time. Unable to move. Unable to see. Slowly withering away, mummifying, rotting in your own skin. Whatever you’re going to find will not be human anymore – if it was ever human in the first place.

You cross the dusty, time-ravaged stone floor to the sarcophagus at the far end of the room. It's a short walk. Mausoleums are traditionally small, most especially the ones outside of temples, reserved for the vilest of the old guard, the lichkings who dared to try and defy death. Beings that rejected humanity, even rejected immolation, and should not under any circumstances be within spitting distance of a residential area.

Zoning laws: the bane of all undead tyrants. 

There's only one — which is nerve-wracking. It sits placidly on a raised dais set with small, half-melted candles, as if it’s waiting for you. A frozen slime trail of old wax meanders down the dais, caught in time. The thrum of magic tickles your fingertips. Brushing, like a cat would, up against your palms and skittering up your arms. Both a beckoning and a warning. Temptation.

It's wrong. A singular coffin is like finding a singular roach. Not wholly uncommon, but it sets your teeth on edge. 

It means one of two things: either the Temple managed to burn the master’s undead servants, even the stubborn ones. Or, worse – they’re afraid of what it might do with nearby corpses, even sealed away.

Your arms itch. You set your torch in a conveniently placed wall sconce and start working to get your mind off things.

The Temple of Light may not like to admit it, but what they do is magic. The prayers wielded by their paladins and clerics are incantations; the talismans created by their monks are charms, woven out of somewhat less mathematically inclined sigils. Magic. They hang and burn people for it in the streets, but it keeps their mausoleums tightly locked and their church in power.

Like any spell, a prayer can be broken with a little bit of reverse engineering. And you are very good at breaking things.

Maybe it's the uniqueness of your situation, or maybe you were just created with something special, but seeing the patterns in the weave and weft of magic comes second nature to you. Almost like a physical thing. A golden projection of arcane artistry.

It's a complicated spell; the Woodsman lived hundreds of years ago, long enough that even its very name was forgotten. The ward is centuries of layers, each one getting more and more complex as the Silent Mercies learned what incantations and motions were most effective at keeping the dead at bay. Trails of cold, melted wax dripping down time. A beautiful puzzle, just for you. You're always half-giddy, knowing that you may very well be the only one who can truly see the work, the history behind it, and that you might be the only one smart enough not just to break it to pieces, but coax it open.

Enough. You need to be fast.

Your forehead tenses, brows knit as you start reversing half a millennia of spellcraft. Delicately, slowly, you work out the motions, but in reverse. A twist of your hand, fingers curled, your arm moving in hypnotic diamonds and stars and spirals. Shapes designed to trap and contain. The fingers on your other hand open and close in the same fractal rhythm half a canto ahead, parsing out the right steps in the dance before you walk the dancefloor.  You're a conductor, ripping carefully crafted sheet music to shreds. The torch flickers.

There's no sound but your own short, elated huff of laughter when your hand slides into place at the ward's terminus. Deep in your hindbrain, a lock falls open with a satisfying click!

“Don't move.” 

Oh. That's a sword — you feel the tip of it caressing the nape of your neck. Slowly, carefully, you raise your hands to the sides of your head. You’re unarmed, and thankful you have gloves on.

“Turn around.” 

It’s not like you have room to argue.

You’re face-to-face with the tip of a shiny, well-polished blade. The silver coating makes your back teeth itch. You feel it vibrating, still coming down, hypersensitive to atomic changes in the air. You’re also face-to-chest with an extraordinarily tall cleric in their classic white and gold armor. An immediate, violent chill settles into your spine.

She’s hard-faced, hair cut bluntly short; she gives you the impression that her only expression is scowl. You prepare yourself to fire and run. It’ll set your research back months – maybe even a year – but you’ll live.

“Explain yourself.” You’re taken aback by that – you do a quick three-point look around the room and with your head and then spread your hands out a little further.

“I mean,” you say, “I think we both know I’m not supposed to be here.”

She doesn’t like that. Her hands choke a little tighter around her sword grip, leather squealing and platemail clicking as she shifts even deeper into a fighting stance. The sword gets a little closer to your face. A sweat breaks out between your shoulder blades.

“You’re a mage.”

“And you’re a cleric.” Impasse. Stand off. Stare down. Neither of you are willing to make the first move – maybe she’s hoping for a peaceful resolution. That you’ll go gracefully to the stake.

Fat chance, but something changes when she opens her mouth to reply.

You don’t like the look that falls over the cleric’s face – wide eyed, eyebrows to the hairline, mouth half-open. The blood leaving her face. The slight tremble in her steady hands. Fear.

Slowly, you twist your neck to look behind you.

The Woodsman’s coffin is open – a deep, yawning blackness slides out of it, liquid trapped inside thin film. On the coattails of the light-drinking sludge, a skeletal hand slides, damn near leisurely, out of the sarcophagus. What follows is a horror of ancient science. Half human, half… something else.

The antlers crown its head, but the head is canine, deep pinpoints of light inside empty sockets. Mummified skin knits across bone, thin as paper and patchy in places. Its teeth are bare to the world and yellowed with centuries. You watch the slick, black flesh form an amorphous mass beneath the skull, the arms nothing but bone haphazardly slapped onto an overgorged slug.

You were hoping it wasn’t in there – everything you’ve learned told you it had probably vacated its body years ago. There had been no activity for so long – no plague of nightmares, no major possessions, no strange activity in the flora and fauna  – and yet. The Woodsman slithers out of its unlocked tomb on a tide of melted void-flesh, rises on it until it has to bend, its shoulders scraping the ceiling of the mausoleum. It opens its mouth wide – skin and gristle clinging to its jaw in loose strings – and shrieks.

It’s shrill and piercing. You’re concussed, briefly, slapping your hands over your ears. You feel it – in your head. Scraping the inside of your skull, dark wordless whispers in your hindbrain. It knows you. It sees you. It’s in your head.

The cleric pushes you behind her, nearly to the door in the tiny mausoleum. You’re confused – still concussed. You don’t run.

“Go!” She shouts, swinging and hacking at the growing sea of rotting flesh. She swings too wide – the silver-steel scrapes against the walls of the mausoleum and sparks. The Woodsman just keeps growing. One by one, the candles and torch are swallowed whole. A deep, endless black. A tidal wave of nothing. 

You’re not about to argue. You turn tail and run out the door.

Two steps past the tomb, you stumble to a stop. A quick, hard-breathing glance behind you lets you know that the cleric already isn’t doing well. She’s fighting like an animal, punching what she can’t cut. Every slice is swallowed up by more reeling, lightless flesh. You still feel the Woodsman’s scritching little claws, furrows in your soft, pliant brain. Every iota of you recoils away from it. But that cleric – she let you go. 

You look down at your hands. The dark leather gloves, fingertips worn, the edges frayed.

Shaking, you slip them off your hands and leave them in the grass.

You grab the back of the cleric’s breastplate and yank her back into fresh air, swapping places in one smooth transition. You don’t know what she sees. If she notices the dark, blue-black corrupted skin of your hands or the bright runes squirming over your arms while you reach deep in yourself for something destructive. The bands around your wrists and throat mark you as a Thing – something broken loose. The Woodsman tugs at your tattered ghost leash with an interested spiritual hand, head cocked. Your programming demands you kneel for consumption, and your knees twitch before you get yourself back under control. You almost see a wink of recognition.

Little homunculus, the Woodsman whispers, curling around the base of your skull like a cat, so far from home.

“Shut up,” you say, and light up the room.

The Temple of Light has claimed the lichkings reject holy fire and immolation – they just haven’t tried something hot enough. Your fire is pure destruction, white with heat, blinding against the greasy black corruption sludge coating the walls. The Woodsman shrieks – pain, rage, confusion. Spikes of pain explode behind your eyes, and you burn them away too.

You wade through the muck, scorching it all to ash, beating the Woodsman back until it tries to seek refuge again in its sarcophagus, huddling in the pit. A child taking refuge in a cellar.  Curled at the back of a cell. Useless, useless.

You reach out with a flame-licked hand and clamp down hard on its muzzle.

“Shut up,” you hiss, and watch fire make cracks in its skull. It rakes your arms with bony claws, opening bloody gashes in your flesh. The blood sizzles and evaporates almost instantly. 

The Woodsman’s head explodes with a loud crack, bone shards ripping through the skin of your cheek. The rest of it goes limp in a heap. What’s left, you turn to coal dust, just in case. When you’re done, all that’s left of the Woodsman is a greasy soot stain coating the floor, walls, and ceiling. It’s a little gruesome. Reminds you uncomfortably of blood.

You coax the flames back in, lower and lower, wobbling with exhaustion, until a comfortable, warm dark swallows you. There’s light in it – ambient, soft reflections of the moon outside. The sarcophagus is a welcome resting spot, using its high lip to stay half-standing. Even then, you see little spots in your vision, the edges going blurry. A few drops of blood slide out of your nose and splatter on the ground. Your ears are ringing.

“You’ve got red on you.” You jump.

The cleric is standing there, wiping blood and slime off her face. One of her eyes is nearly glued shut, an open wound on her brow pouring red down her cheek and under her collar. You give her a once-over before you weakly tilt your chin up.

“So do you,” you say. She nods – holds out her hand.

“Marianna.”

Cautiously, you cross the floor on shaky legs to take it, and give her your name. The one you picked for yourself – it feels nice. To introduce yourself, for once. She almost crushes your hand. You’re comparatively weak.

“You saved my life, mage,” Marianna says. You grin with a mouthful of bloody teeth, an acknowledgement.

Then, your body finally gives up. You’re blissfully unconscious before you hit the ground.

[joaniejustwokeup]

Decided to make this prompt it’s own post- originally based off @noir-renard’s tags on this photo post:

I had an idea for where it could go…

Jason uses Bruce’s account to bid on the car.

Danny uses Vlad’s account to bid on it.

They drive up the price ridiculously high.

Danny wants the car to go on a summer road trip/ college tour with Sam and Tucker.

Jason wants to use it to pick up his brothers from work and school to embarrass them. He’s sure he can convince Alfred to let him be the designated chauffeur for a bit.

Danny just barely places the winning bid in time.

When he gets the car he tricks it out with a bunch of anti-theft and especially anti-ghost security measures. No way he’s letting Johnny or Technus or some other random ghost steal it from him, this car is his. He also adds special storage for ectoplasm and ecto-dejecto, since they’ll be on the road for a bit, but also in case there’s an emergency and they need to get out of town fast. And then they’re off on their summer adventure!

They stop in Gotham to check out Gotham University, and because Sam love the aesthetic and Tucker loves Wayne Tech, leaving their car in a lot frequented by tourists.

While he’s out on patrol Jason suddenly sees THE FUCKING CAR!!! Holy shit it must be destiny. Fuck it, Red Hood is stealing a car today because dammit this was supposed to be his janky-ass dead guy car. He’s gonna reclaim his undead honor and this shitty car if it’s the last thing he does. Only one problem. The car immediately zaps him, knocks him out, and soups him with the automatic thermos the second he touches it (what’s this? A halfa Jason Todd au??? Oh dear!).

Danny, Sam, and Tucker return none the wiser, having had a great day touring the city and the university’s campus. But soon they’re back on the road, having a couple more weeks of travel and touring campuses planned. They finally return to Amity Park, and it’s only then that Danny realizes the car had captured some random ghost while they were on the road. At least it looked like the car had fed them from the ectoplasm storage while they travelled, so they should be healed of any souping-related injuries.

Danny decides to release them in his royal keep in the Infinite Realms (AND a ghost king Danny au? wow who would’ve thought), so that he can have Wulf on hand to portal the ghost back to their haunt if they mean no harm, or contain them in the Ghost Zone if they turn out to be violent.

Jason is spewed out of that freaky thermos into a throne room of black marble, surrounded by glowing, translucent beings. Everything has a Lazarus-green glow, and something deep in his chest seems to be humming in recognition, like a tuning fork resonating with an entire orchestra (is that how tuning forks work? Jason doesn’t fucking know).

Above him floats a teenager in a black and white jumpsuit accented with pieces of medieval armor and a cloak lined with swirling stars and nebulae. Atop his snow white hair sits an obsidian crown bathed in green flames, the same bright Lazarus green as the boy’s eyes. He’s holding the thermos almost sheepishly, looking at Jason in shocked amazement.

“Holy fucking shit- I SOUPED RED HOOD??? RED HOOD’S A GHOST?!?!?”

Meanwhile, the Batfamily has been frantically looking for Red Hood for weeks now. No one knows where he’s gone- his tracker showed him traveling from state to state seemingly at random, before stopping and disappearing entirely. His last tracked location was in a small midwestern town called Amity Park.

[tourettesdog]

DP AU where the ghosts all look pretty... normal. To humans.

Like humans can’t comprehend how ghosts actually look-- or maybe even what they’re doing necessarily.

Danny looks at Cujo and sees a green dog that can transform, but to a human he’s just a regular rottweiler with mood swings.

Any violence or property damage the ghosts get up to is filled in mentally by more “rational” causes. Same with general ghostly behaviors.

People going through objects? No, those objects broke, or the person stepped around it surely. Flying? They jumped high or the ground was higher than expected. Sudden disappearances? Man, that kid is good at slipping away.

Skulker’s just some gun-toting lunatic and people are constantly at ends trying to get the police to finally arrest him. No one knows why the town suddenly started attracting crazy, violent people (and animals), but they’re rolling with the punches and trying to make do.

Phantom is perceived as an actual alive child acting like a vigilante and there is so much overwhelming concern for his safety at all times. (Also confusion because he’s definitely keeping that gun-toting lunatic in line somehow???)

They’re not aware it’s Danny since he actually dresses up to disguise himself, including a domino mask and a hood.

The Fentons are convinced that their portal didn’t work as intended. They can detect the ectoplasm in the air, but they think that it’s just affected the town Mentally and that the strange happenings/people acting out are a result of ectoplasm poisoning people. They haven’t dared enter the Ghost Zone for fear of it affecting them. They’re too invested in their work to close the portal.

Sam and Tucker think Danny has lost his fucking mind and are desperately trying to get him to stop his vigilante habits before he gets himself killed. (Danny is aware they can’t see what is happening and has kept quiet about the finer details so they don’t think he’s hallucinating or something. As far as they’re concerned, the portal only shocked Danny and he was very confused for a week afterwards.)

Eventually, Sam, Tucker, and Jazz become ecto-contaminated enough from being around Danny that they start perceiving the ghosts. They each have a bit of an existential crisis as Danny starts explaining how nothing they’ve witnessed since the portal accident is as it seems.

[nordicpoppie]

Mafia au - You're protective of his child - Hyung line

This is a mafia reaction, meaning guns, cursing and violence and the like may be mentioned (Nothing too much in detail in this one) In this reaction reader is NOT the birth mother of the child, which is why members will be surprised or happy reader is so protective…even if it’s overprotectiveness heheee The kids are NOT toddlers in this one, they are anywhere between 6 and 15 years old, so sorry if you wanted toddlers XD Y/N → Your Name

Jin (13 years old)

“Are you sure you don’t need me or your dad to walk with you? I’d be more than happy to, even if it’s just halfway there”

You said while Yerin, Jin's daughter threw her jacket on. Jin had, for some reason you couldn’t comprehend, allowed her to walk to school, with no guards.

At the start of your relationship with Jin, you hadn't even known he had a daughter. And you had been confused many times by his protective tendencies, but as you’d later found out, that was because of his “job”. As a part of the mafia, he needed to protect those closest to him, which meant you and Yerin always had at least 1 guard with you.

Over time his tendencies to be overprotective had rubbed off on you, except you were a little less, “lets fire guns”, and more of a “let's stay inside”. 

You reluctantly handed Yerin her bag, as she stretched her arms out for it. Then smiled tightly at her as she smiled brightly saying her goodbyes to you, before she closed the door behind her.

As soon as the door was closed you rushed through the hallways, reaching Jin's study in no time. You threw the door open without bothering knocking first.

“Jin, why are you letting her walk without her guards? Or even just one of us?”

Staring harshly at him, not caring that he was clearly busy with some papers, while Namjoon and Yoongi leaned over the desk.

Jin slowly raised his gaze to you, while Yoongi quietly sniggered under his breath at your anger. The look Jin sent you almost sent you reeling, he looked confused, as if he had no idea what you were talking about.

“Your daughter Jin, Yerin? You just let her walk out the door ALONE!”

You hissed angrily at him, your arm gesturing to where the front door was located.

“She’s not alone though?”

You scrunched your eyebrows in confusion, the only person who had walked out the door was Yerin. As you opened your mouth to explain that, Jin interrupted you.

“Jungkook is shadowing her, and he’s picking her up from school later today too”

His brows were still pinched in slight confusion, how could even think he would let his precious daughter leave without a guard.

“O-oh, I just, she said she would be walking…Alone”

You trailed off as a slight blush made its appearance on your cheeks. Desperate to find a way to escape the now almost embarrassing situation you made up a lousy excuse.

“I’ll just…Uh…Start cooking”

With that you made your escape out of the door, only making it a few steps down the hallway before Jin grabbed you by the arm. He wore a huge smirk on his face, and you could hear Yoongi cackling from inside his office.

“I didn’t think you’d be able to beat me when it comes to being a worrywart, baby”

Yoongi (6 years old)

“Dad?”

A small voice called from the entrance of the living room. You and Yoongi were currently lounging on the couch, watching a show, having put his son to bed just 30 minutes earlier.

Yoongi turned to face Hyun, while you grabbed the remote to pause the show.

“Dad, can i have a gun in my room, I think there’s someone under my bed”

You nearly choked on your spit at his words, feeling Yoongi's arm stiffen around your shoulders. Yoongi knew you hated guns and violence with a passion, hell, he had been frightened you’d leave, when you first found out he was in the mafia. But all you had told him was to never have a gun visible inside your home.

As contradictory as it was, to have a no gun zone inside your home, it had worked…So far. Hyun knew what his dad did for work, not the bloody and violent part, but he knew of the guns.

Clearing your throat you tried to come up with an alternative to the guns, you were not going to hand a gun over to a 6 year old.

“Hyun sweetie, how about i sleep with you tonight, I can scare whatever’s hiding under your bed away”

Hyun frowned before glancing at Yoongi, clearly not too happy with your idea.

“Mom, you’re not strong at all, if I can’t have a gun i want daddy to sleep with me”

Yoongi choked down a laugh, coughing slightly in an attempt to hide it, as you slapped his arm.

Turning to Hyun you pouted playfully at him.

“Awh but Hyun, then mom will be all alone in the big bed”

He almost gaped in shock at your words, realizing you would in fact be alone in the big bed without Yoongi.

“I’ll just sleep with you in the big bed then!”

Turning he ran as fast as he could to grab his pillow from his room.

“Yoongi…Would you have given him a gun if I wasn’t here?”

You questioned quietly, watching his face for any changes that could reveal his thoughts. Sighing, he dragged a hand through his hair, before smiling sadly at you.

“Younger me probably would have”

“MOMMY! Come on!”

Hyun yelled from the bedroom, dragging you from the rather heavy conversation. You got up squeezing Yoongi’s arm, but turned to him just before you left the room.

“You’re NEVER giving my child a gun, even if it’s a life or death situation, do you hear me Yoongi?”

His eyes glided over your face, noting how serious you were, but also how protective and fierce you looked in that moment. Nodding his head he watched you disappear, before he chuckled to himself. He almost couldn’t believe how protective you were of his son.

Namjoon (10 year old)

You had gone to the park that afternoon with Aera, Namjoons daughter, she had been begging you all day

“Please, please, please lets do something” and “It’s so boring inside, mom I’m bored”

So you had relented and gone to the park, unable to withstand her puppy eyes.

You were watching her on the playground, sitting on a bench a few meters away, not wanting to disturb her. However, you got disturbed by a phone call, picking up the device, you saw Namjoons name.

“Joon, what’s wrong?”

Hearing his warm laughter in your ear, you relaxed a bit.

“I’m just calling to hear how it’s going, and to ask what you want for dinner tonight, I’m cooking after all”

You almost grimaced, remembering the last time he made dinner, he had somehow managed to burn scrambled eggs.

“Mommy watch me!”

Aera yelled from the top of the slide, making you smile at her, nodding your head telling her to go down it.

“Do you really think that’s a good idea Joon? I mean last time was-” “Don’t mention last time! I practiced, remember I’ve been getting lessons by Jin-hyung”

You chuckled at Namjoons words, somehow having trouble believing he’d improved just by having Jin teach him.

He continued talking about what kind of food he’d learnt to make from Jin, but you got distracted, noticing the sudden absence of Aera on the playground.

Getting up from your spot, your breathing got faster as you circled the playground looking for her.

“-ing heavy? Y/N! Answer me, what’s happening?”

You heard Namjoons panicking voice in your ear, having completely forgotten the phone call. Not knowing what to say as you were on the border of just sobbing out loud you couldn’t give him any useful information, except a whimper of his name.

“Joon” “Taehyung track her location now! Fuck, baby just stay calm, I’m coming, okay, I’m on my way”

Tears were dripping down your face, listening to how fast he worked on finding you, it almost made you feel useless and weak. But you couldn’t help it, anything could have happened to his daughter, and it would be your fault.

A few minutes later you heard heavy boots pounding on the gravel road and you saw Namjoon followed by several armed men. He quickly ran up to you, grabbing your shoulders and inspecting you for wounds. When he found none he pulled you into a tight hug, making you choke up again.

“Joon, Aera, I-I can’t find her, she was just on the playground and then she wasn’t there, and I can’t find her Joon, what if something’s happened to her, or someone has taken her?”

You sobbed loudly into his chest, guilt eating away at you. Clenching his teeth Namjoon signaled his men to start scouring the entire park. He tugged you tighter into his chest, trying to reassure you that everything would be alright, but both of you knew he couldn’t be sure of that.

“Daddy?!”

You froze at the voice, turning quickly, seeing one of Namjoons men carrying Aera in his arms securely. Gasping you ran towards her, barely waiting for the man to put her down, before you had her in your arms.

“Don’t ever do that to me again Aera! Never leave without telling someone okay baby?”

As he was watching you, Namjoon realized just how deeply rooted your love and worry for his daughter was, making him smile slightly, despite the current situation.

Hoseok (15 year old)

“Mom? Mom wake up!”

Someone was shaking your shoulder making you groan slightly, it was still way too dark outside for it to be morning. Blinking slowly you saw Hwan sitting on the bed next to you. Combing a hand through his hair you sat up slightly, still confused.

“What is it baby? Did you have a nightmare?”

He grimaced at you grumbling out a “I haven’t had nightmares in years mom” before a loud clang was heard from the downstairs area. Getting out of bed you approached the door, ready to go out and find the cause of the noise. Hwan launched after you, grabbing your arm, and shaking his head fervently.

“Mom, someone’s inside, downstairs, with guns, it’s not dads men” “What?”

You gasped at him, suddenly not knowing what to do as your mind blanked. Of course you knew Hoseok was in the mafia, and you knew the dangers that came with it, but you never expected something like this to happen.

Feeling a tugging at your hand you saw Hwan attempting to lead you to the window.

“Mom we have to get out of here and call dad”

Shakily you nodded your head, wondering how he was so composed compared to you, but deciding to brush it off for now. Climbing out the window, you watched Hwan drop down to hang off the edge, before dropping into some bushes below. As you were following him, you heard the door in your bedroom bust open, followed by someone yelling.

“They’re outside!”

The bushes saved your fall, but they scratch up your legs, leaving small trails of blood. Sneaking behind Hwan you were trying to make it to the front of the garden, when someone suddenly grabbed him.

“Hwan! Let my son go!”

You yelled, grabbing a nearby vase and throwing it at the goons face, making him pass out.

Hwan stared at you, shocked at your actions, you were never one to pick violence, and you rarely got angry.

“Baby, sweetie are you alright? Let’s get out of here and wait for Hobi yeah?”

You smiled shakily at him, trying to exude calmness, but failing miserably.

You managed to make it a few blocks down the road, having called Hoseok on the way to come get you. Hwan had been holding your hand the entire way, and you guessed it was for your sake, seeing as you’d been clutching it with a death grip the entire time.

Sitting in an alley, you waited impatiently, until the sound of cars stopping nearby reached your ears.

Feeling paranoid you dragged Hwan behind you, shielding him with your body, preparing yourself for the worst.

“Y/N? Hwan?”

Hearing Hoseok's voice you let out a small gasp, jumping up from your crouched position. Dragging Hwan with you, you engulfed both of them in a hug, savoring the moment.

“Are you okay? Any injuries?”

Hoseok asked, rubbing your back soothingly. Nodding your head, Hwan grumbled a bit.

“Almost wasn’t but mom threw a vase at the guy, knocking him out real good”

You smiled tightly at both of them, still not quite over that shock yet. Hoseok smiled at you admiring the strength you showed to protect not only yourself but his son as well.

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

Lost son of catbat au where Danny learns who his bio parents are and freaks out. Batman was notoriously observant and would find him out in a heartbeat. Not to mention if it came to a custody battle he would win against the Fentons easily, or worse, someone would get overshadowed and the situation could get messy.

Batman might also seek ways to control or contain him which was terrifying. He spent his entire life feeling like he was in a cage, trapped by his adoptive parents. He didn't have many friends because his parents would scare people off with thier high tech weapons and neon jumpsuits and the ones that did stay...well they did more than look down the barrel of the sci-fi guns they touted, even if they were only covered in goo, getting shot at must be a traumatic experience. The rest of the time he felt like he was trying to creep across landmines without setting them off.

No one wanted his parents undivided attention not even thier children. That combined with the fact his house was mixed with a lab resulted in it being a giant cluster of Osha violations. Opening the fridge was dangerous long before the portal opened and the food inside it would come to life, this was because they often stored dangerous and volatile chemicals inside of it and something as small as the light bulb flicking on inside could cause something to explode.

Danny had never felt safe in his house. Tuckers place had always been his safe haven and his parents had practically raised him as thier own. Thank the Ancients for Mr and Mrs Foley. He didn't know where he would be without them. This, of course, changed after the accident. Now he didn't feel safe anywhere.

After six months with his powers he began making contingency plans for everything. His friends called him paranoid but were forced to eat thier words not even a three days later when one stopped a new ghost from taking over the city.

Danny had always been good at making plans when he actually had time to sit down and think things through. He was also excellent at sneaking around and stealing. Now he knew why.

He might not want anything to do with his parents but he very much wanted more siblings. Jazz was great but she helped raise him since she was a baby. She felt way more like a mom than a sister. Dani was self explanatory. It hurt him to know that his siblings didn't know about him-couldn't know about him.

That is, until Red Hood appeared on the scene. At this point Danny had given up on his human life and found he had so much more free time. Sure he was technically still going to school, but that was to fight ghosts, he didn't attend classes. He set up alliances with other ghosts in the zone to help defend his territory and now Amity Park had a thiving ghostly undercity that few of the living knew about.

Danny finally had time to himself, even though Sam hated it. She kept telling him it was wrong. This was a hot topic of debate between him, Sam and Tucker with the boys both against her. Sure, watching the people who took him in and -well, not raise him exactly but fed and clothed him for years- drive around the city desperatly calling his name did make him feel kinda crappy.

Red Hood gave him hope. He was estranged from Bruce but was still his brother. Jackpot! Plus he was older than him and a known killer, so he wasn't likely to tattle on him to the big bad bat about Danny making Vlad "disappear" a few months ago. Hood made people disappear all the time so who was he to judge anyway?

Still, he could admit just showing up unannounced in his apartment was kinda dangerous. There was no garentee Hood would shoot him, brother or not. I mean, he's been violent with Robin lately and no one knows why, and he's thier brother.

Just as he was about to talk himself out of this and go back to his own city he heard the tell tale click of a gun. Crap.

"So, who are you?" Hood asked, seemingly aloof even while being confronted with a stranger breaking into his home.

Danny nervously gestured to the cookies he had made for them, "If i tell you will you promise not to tell Batman?"

[hannahmanderr]

Supernova - Prologue

Read on AO3

Summary: The Ghost Zone is tearing itself apart. The instability threatens the future of both Earth and the Infinite Realms. Danny isn't exactly thrilled that for some reason, the responsibility to restore balance falls on him. And he's definitely not thrilled at the prospect of having to use the Ring and the Crown to do so. (Ghost King AU)

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Contrary to popular belief, the Infinite Realms do have a center. Not a physical center, to say, but a center nonetheless.

It is from this center that a shudder rippled across the Realms.

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Of all the ghosts to notice the shudder, Sydney Poindexter was the first.

“Wowza!” He shook out his head and his shoulders. “That meatloaf just goes right through ya, huh?”

He didn’t notice how the ectoplasmic construct of Casper High and its students flickered violently for the briefest of moments.

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Skulker grinned as the pegasus he had his sights set on inched closer to the trap he’d laid out. “That’s it, just a little more,” he said, not daring to speak above a whisper. He’d been hunting this particular pegasus for nearly three weeks now, and each time he’d gotten close, it’d slipped out of his grasp.

Today would be different.

The pegasus’ nose flared as it sniffed the fiery flowers he’d set up as a food bait. He tensed in anticipation. So close now, just a couple feet further…

The shudder tore through the Badlands.

Skulker, caught off-guard, stumbled backwards as it passed through him. The pegasus whinnied in fear and bolted away.

For a moment, he could only sit there in stunned silence, not even caring that he’d just lost his quarry again. “What in blazes…?”

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A yeti barreled into Frostbite’s cave, gasping his name. 

Frostbite was already standing. “Gruefang,” he said. “I take it you felt it as well?”

“Yes, Chief,” Gruefang nodded. “Even the young felt it, and you know their bodies are not as in tune with the environment.”

The look on Frostbite’s face was grave, completely unlike his ironically warm demeanor. “Then it may be worse than I feared.”

In three quick strides, he crossed the cavern and opened a chest to pull out two scrolls. One was small and blank; the other was much larger, much more weathered, and detailed on both sides with drawings of islands, doors, portals, and other landmarks.

“The Infi-Map?” Gruefang asked, peering over Frostbite’s shoulder. “What do you intend to do with it?”

“Summon Fleetfloe,” Frostbite instructed. He unrolled the blank scroll and began to write on it with a claw dipped in ink. “Tell her I need her to carry a message to the Acropolis of Asphodel for me.”

“Of course, Chief. What is the message?”

Frostbite hastily finished scrawling his written message on the scroll, then rolled it back up and fastened it shut with a seal of ice. “This should have the relevant details,” he said, handing both it and the Infi-Map to Gruefang. “She should seek out the Lady Pandora and tell her… tell her I must know if Kilaris grows unstable. If it is as I suspect, then we cannot delay action any longer.”

Gruefang’s beady eyes grew wide. “Kilaris?” he whispered, as though saying the name any louder would cause it to shatter. “Are you certain?”

“... unfortunately so.” If possible, a heavier weight seemed to fall over Frostbite’s shoulders. “Go quickly. There is no time to waste.

“And… pray that I am wrong,” he added quietly as Gruefang sprinted out of the cave.

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Clockwork’s tower was not immune to the shudder, either. The hundreds of clocks spread across Long Now each stumbled over a few misplaced seconds as the shudder washed over them. 

If Clockwork himself felt it pass through him, though, he did not show it. He simply kept his gaze fixed resolutely on the time window in front of him, showing Fleetfloe rapidly approaching the Acropolis. A sigh escaped him and echoed into the chorus of clocks that had resumed their ticking.

Everything was as it should be.

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Vlad massaged his temple as he stormed into his City Hall office. The meeting with the head of the city council had been just as insufferable as he’d predicted - as these meetings always were.

Bureaucracy and its silly complexities. If he could, he’d choose to run Amity Park the same way he ran his businesses, with him as the ultimate decision maker. Things would just be so much simpler. 

He collapsed into his desk chair with a dramatic flourish. Barely 10:30 in the morning and he was already nursing a migraine. Splendid. 

Perhaps a pick-me-up was in order.

He rummaged in his desk - quite literally in his desk, he phased a hand into a hollowed out compartment he’d personally installed - and pulled out a silver flask. He popped off the cap and took a deep inhale of the green vapor that drifted out of the top. Yes, this blend of ectoplasmic supplements would work nicely to stimulate his ghost half’s healing.

He raised the flask in a sardonic toast to no one in particular. “Another day, yet another problem to solve,” he said in his driest voice.

He’d no sooner than put the flask to his lips when the shudder passed through him.

Acidic green liquid stained the rug as the flask fell from his grasp. The feeling that flooded Vlad took him back over twenty years, to before he’d even had his accident, when he and Jack had woken up with strong hangovers after crashing a party. His sudden nausea and the cloudiness in his head so strongly reminded him of that memory that he wondered briefly if he’d consumed too much wine at last night’s dinner party (an inane thought; his hybrid metabolism quite literally burned through alcohol).

The feeling only lasted for a few seconds before disappearing without a trace.

“Mayor Masters!” the secretary cried as she burst into the office. Vlad hurriedly nudged his overcoat off the back of his chair and kicked it into a heap over the stain of ectoplasm on the rug. “I heard a noise, are you alright?”

“Just fine, Marta,” he said through a thin smile. “I only dropped my phone.”

Her forehead crinkled. “I could’ve sworn I heard someone shouting in here.”

“Mm, no? It’s just me in here.”

“Huh.” Marta did not seem completely satisfied with this answer, but she turned to leave anyway. “Alright, well… just let me know before you head out to that lunch interview. I’ll need to give you those files.” She walked away shaking her head muttering to herself.

It wasn’t until the door clicked into place that Vlad relaxed, but only marginally. There was no telling what that feeling had truly been, and he did not like not knowing things.

Well, that wasn’t completely true. There was one thing he knew for certain. 

Whatever it had been, it had most definitely been ghost related, and he suspected he knew exactly what had caused it. Still, there was one person he probably needed to talk to in order to confirm his suspicions.

He pulled his personal cell phone out of his pocket and thumbed through his contacts. It didn’t take long to find the one he was looking for.

“... Ah, Jack! I’m so glad you picked up, I wanted to ask you something…”

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The epicenter of the shudder and the center of the Infinite Realms, as it turns out, was located within a crumbling castle with nothing around it as far as the eye could see. 

Of course, the force of the shudder shook the castle. Not with any sort of violence, but just enough to knock a few pieces of stone rubble from the walls. One of those pieces of stone fell from the ceiling of the throne chamber. 

It fell and struck a coffin leaning against the throne.

A crack emerged.

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“You’re so full of it. The Cruiser Gravity Rifle is a million times better at beating Sollix than the Titanium Crossbow.” 

Sam scoffed at Tucker’s claim. “Please. How long have you been playing DOOMED again? The Cruiser Gravity Rifle is so not worth the recharge cycle it goes through. You can get way more consistent damage with the Titanium Crossbow.”

“What do you mean it’s not worth the recharge cycle?” Tucker protested. “At least you can get off more than one shot before you have to reload!”

“You also realize Sollix is, like, the lowest level troll boss in the whole game, right? You don’t even need a heavy-hitter to beat him. I bet there’s even a melee weapon that works well with him.”

“That’s what I did,” Danny chimed in. “The Blood-Forged Silver Shortsword worked pretty well for me.”

“That doesn’t count, ‘cause you phased back into the game to avoid having to deal with the crappy melee mechanics,” Tucker said. He flopped onto the grass unceremoniously. “Say what you want, but at least I’m not a cheater.”

“Hey!” Danny let go of Sam’s sneaker long enough to smack Tucker. “It’s not cheating if it’s a game mechanic.”

“Okay, but is it a game mechanic?” Sam grunted. She couldn’t stand doing crunches and pushups and such. Cardio was definitely more her speed.

Danny shrugged. “It’s not a bug and they haven’t patched it, so I’d call it a game mechanic.”

“Dude, you can’t exactly patch out ghosts overshadowing the game.”

A shrill whistle echoed across the field. “Alright! That’s time!” Coach Tetslaff hollered from her spot on the sideline. “Fill in your sheet and rotate partners.”

Sam rolled off of the mat and laid spread-eagle on the grass. Yeah, she’d be feeling that in the morning. Just like her to try and show off in gym class. “How many, D?”

“83. Showoff.” He set the worksheet down and climbed onto the mat. “C’mon, Tuck, you’re holding for me.”

Tucker groaned dramatically, but got up onto his knees anyway. “Just so you know,” he said, giving Danny a pointed look, “I’m only doing this ‘cause I’m hot and you’re a walking AC unit.”

“Also ‘cause your mom said she’d have your head if your gym grade doesn’t get any better. Not to mention Tetslaff will ream you if you don’t. She’s still mad at you for that stunt you tried to pull last week,” Sam added helpfully, cheeky grin and all.

Tucker’s glare turned to her. “How was I supposed to know she’d actually call the fake number and check?”

Danny folded his arms behind his head. “Probably ‘cause she was suspicious in the first place. I mean, the crutches were a little much for a sprained ankle.”

“Mom’s a nurse, she’s given crutches to plenty of -”

Another short whistle sounded. “Come on, hustle!” Tetslaff called. “You all ready? Then get goin’! Two minutes!”

With a grunt, Danny started doing his crunches. Sam watched with mild interest. Sure, last year’s Presidential Fitness Exam hadn’t gone the best for him, but he could pull through when need be. And there was no denying his ghost powers offered him a bit of an advantage, even if it didn’t totally show while in human form. He’d knocked the self-defense unit out of the park, after all.

“I was saying that Mom’s given crutches to people with sprained ankles before,” Tucker said. 

“Yeah? And how many is that?” Sam figured she didn’t need to know the exact number to know the answer.

His face flushed red. “I don’t - well, you know… she can’t tell me ‘cause of hippo,” he said, finishing with a smug smile. The uncertainty behind his eyes was way too obvious, though.

Sam gave him a look of disbelief. “Are you for real? Your mom is a nurse and you don’t even know it’s called HIPAA?”

“... Hippo, HIPAA, to-may-to, to-mah-to. Besides, I -” he cut off abruptly and looked down with a frown. “Uh, Danny? You okay dude?”

Sam glanced over to see Danny had stopped his crunches and was now sitting up with his hands held tightly over his sternum. All the color had drained from his face, and there was a noticeable drop in the temperature. 

Immediately, her internal alarms started blaring. She bolted upright. “Is it your ghost sense?” she asked, but she again suspected she knew the answer.

His mouth opened and closed a few times. “I don’t… I…” His brows furrowed, and he stared fixedly at Tucker’s chest, though his gaze was unfocused and glassy. “I… think something - something’s…”

Tucker reached for Danny’s water bottle. “Do you need your - oh, what the f-”

Green liquid funneled out of the top of the water bottle and slowly drifted aimlessly around Danny in little tendrils. Sam watched with wide eyes. Sure, she’d seen a lot of weird stuff since Danny had become half-ghost (a lot of weird stuff), but ectoplasm… It had never done this around him before.

Danny didn’t even seem to notice. He just continued to stare at the same spot, even as his eyes began to burn Phantom green. 

Then, just as suddenly as it had escalated, the floating ectoplasm stopped and fell to the ground, splashing all over the mat and the grass.

Before Sam could react, Danny leaned over and promptly threw up.