#jazz: are you saying that because it's true or because that's what you want to be true?

[confessedlyfannish]

Writing Prompt #12

Bruce is reading the paper when the pour of Tim's coffee goes abruptly quiet. It would be hard to pinpoint why this is disturbing if it wasn't for the way the soft, tinny sound the vent system in the manor makes cuts out for the first time since being updated in the 90s. The pour, Bruce realizes, has not slowed to a trickle before stopping. It has simply stopped. And there is no overeager clack of a the mug against the marble counter or the uncouth first slurp (nor muttered apology at Alfred's scolding look) immediately following the end of the pour.

Bruce fights the instinct to use all of his senses to investigate, and instead keeps his eyes on the byline of the article detailing the latest set of microearthquakes to hit the midwest in the last week. Microearthquakes aren't an unusual occurrence and aren't noticeable by human standards, which is why this article is regulated to page seven, but from several hundred a day worldwide to several hundred a day solely in the East North Central States, seismologists are baffled.

Bruce had been considering sending Superman to investigate under the guise of a Daily Planet article requested by Bruce Wayne (Wayne Industries does have an offshoot factory in the area) when everything had stopped twenty seconds ago. That is what he assumes has happened (having not moved a muscle to confirm) in the amount of time he assumes has passed. His million dollar Rolex does not quite audibly tick but in the absolute silence it should be heard, which confirms the silence to be exactly that—absolute.

While Bruce can hold his breath with the best of the Olympian swimmers, he has never accounted for a need to remain without blinking without being able to move one's eyes. Rotating the eyeballs will maintain lubrication such that one could go without blinking for up to ten minutes. But staring at the byline fixedly, he estimates another twenty seconds before tears start to form.

These are the thoughts Bruce distracts himself with, because he doesn't dare consider how Tim and Alfred haven't made a (living) sound in the past forty-five seconds. About Damian, packing his bag upstairs for school after a morning walk with Titus that was "just pushing it, Master Damian".

There is a knife to his right, if memory serves (it does). In the next five seconds—

"Your wards and guardian are fine, Mr. Wayne," the deepest voice Bruce has ever heard intones. For a dizzying moment, it is hard to pinpoint the location of the voice, for it comes from everywhere—like the chiming of a clocktower whilst inside the tower, so overpowering he is cocooned in its volume.

But it is not spoken loudly, just calmly, and when he puts the paper down, folds it, and looks to his right, a blue man sits in Dick's chair.

He wears a three piece suit made entirely of hues of violet, tie included. He has a black brooch in the shape of a cogwheel pinned to his chest pocket, a simple chain clipped to his lapel. Black leather gloves delicately thumb Bruce's watch (no longer on his wrist, somewhere between second 45 and 46 it has stopped being on his wrist), admiring it.

"You'll forgive me," the man says with surety. "Clocks are rather my thing, and this is an impressive piece." He turns it over and reveals the 'M. Brando' roughly scratched into the silver back. He frowns.

"What a shame," he says, placing it face side up on the table.

"Most would consider that the watch's most valuable characteristic." Bruce says, voice steady, hands neatly folded before him. Two inches from the knife. To his left, there is an open doorway to the kitchen. If he turns his head, he might be able to get a glance of Tim or Alfred.

He doesn't look away from the man.

"It is the arrogance of man," the man says, raising red eyes (sclera and all) to Bruce, "to think they can make their mark on time."

"...Is that supposed to be considered so literally?" Bruce asks, with a light smile he does not mean.

The man smiles lightly back, eyes crinkling at the corners. He looks to be in his mid thirties, clean-shaven. His skin is a dull blue, his hair a shock of white, and a jagged scar runs through one eye and curving down the side of his cheek, an even darker, rawer shade of blue-purple.

The man turns the watch back over and taps at the engraving. "Let me ask you this," he says. "When we deface a work of art, does it become part of the art? Does it add to its intrinsic meaning?"

Bruce forces his shoulders to shrug. "It's arbitrary," he says. "A teenager inscribes his name on the wall of an Ancient Egyptian temple and his parents are forced to publicly apologize. But runic inscriptions are found on the Hagia Sophia that equate to an errant Viking guard having inscribed 'Halfdan was here' and we consider it an artifact of a time in which the Byzantine Empire had established an alliance with the Norse and converted vikings to Christianity."

"The vikings were as errant as the teenager," the man says, "in my experience." He leans back in his chair. "I suppose you could say the difference is time. When time passes, we start to think of things as artistic, or historical. We find the beauty in even the rubble, or at least we find necessity in the destruction..."

He offers Bruce the watch. After a moment, Bruce takes it.

"The problem, Mr. Wayne, is that time does not pass for me. I see it all as it was, as it is, as it ever will be, at all times. There is no refuge from the horror or comfort in that one day..." he closes his hand, the leather squeaking. And then his face smooths out, the brief severity gone. He regards Bruce calmly.

"You can look left, Mr. Wayne."

Bruce looks left. Framed by the doorway, Tim looks like a photograph caught in time. A stream of coffee escapes the spout of the stainless steel pot he prefers over the Breville in the name of expediency, frozen as it makes its way to the thermos proclaiming BITCH I MIGHTWING. Tim regards his task with a face of mindless concentration, mouth slack, lashes in dark relief against his pale skin as he looks down at the mug. Behind him, Bruce can see Alfred's hand outstretched towards the refrigerator handle, equally and terrifyingly still.

"My name is Clockwork," the man says. "I have other names, ones you undoubtedly know, but this one will be bestowed upon me from the mouth of a child I cherish, and so I favor it above all else. I am the Keeper of Time."

"What do you want from me?" Bruce asks, shedding Wayne for Batman in the time it takes to meet Clockwork's eyes. The man acknowledges the change with a greeting nod.

"In a few days time, you will send Superman to the Midwest to investigate the unusual seismic activity. By then, it will be too late, the activity will be gone. They will have already muzzled him."

"Him."

"There is a boy with the power to rule the realm I come from. Your government has been watching him. The day he turned 18, they took him from his family and hid him away. I want you to retrieve him. I want you to do it today."

"Why me?"

"His parents do not have the resources you do, both as Batman and Bruce Wayne. You will dismantle the organization that is keen on keeping him imprisoned, and you will offer him a scholarship to the local University. You and yours will keep him safe within Gotham until he is able to take his place as my King."

This is a lot of information to take in, even for Bruce. The idea that there could be a boy powerful enough to rule over this (god, his mind whispers) entity and that somehow, he has slipped under all of their radars is as frustrating as it is overwhelming. But although Clockwork has seemed willing to converse, he doesn't know how many more questions he will get.

"You have the power to stop time," he decides on, "why don't you rescue him? Would he not be better suited with you and your people?"

"Within every monarchy, there is a court," Clockwork. "Mine will be unhappy with the choice I have made," he looks at Bruce's watch, head cocked. "In different worlds, they call you the Dark Knight. This will be your chance to serve before a True King."

Bruce bristles. "I bow to no one."

"You'll all serve him, one day," Clockwork says, patiently. "He is the ruler of realms where all souls go, new and old. When you finally take refuge, he will be your sanctuary." He frowns. "But your government rejects the idea of gods. All they know is he is other. Not human. Not meta. A weapon."

"A weapon you want me to bring to my city."

"I believe you call one of your weapons 'Clark', do you not?" Clockwork asks idly. "But you misunderstand me. They seek to weaponize him. He is not restrained for your safety, but for their gain."

"And if I don't take him?" Bruce asks, because a) Clockwork has implied he will be at the very least impeded, at worst destroyed over this, and b) he never did quite learn not to poke the bear. "You won't be around if I decide he's better off with the government."

"You will," Clockwork says, with the same certainty he's wielded this entire conversation. "Not because he is a child, though he is, nor because you are good, though you are, nor even because it is better power be close at hand than afar.

"I have told you my court will be unhappy with me. In truth, there are others who also defend the King. Together we will destroy the access to our world not long after this conversation. The court will be unable to touch him, but neither will we as we face the repercussions for our actions. I am telling you this, because in a timeline where I do not, you think I will be there to protect him. And so when he is in danger, even subconsciously, you choose to save him last, or not at all. And that is the wrong choice.

"So cement it in your head, Bruce Wayne," the man says, "You will go to him because I tell you to. And you will keep him safe until he is ready to return to us. He will find no safety net in me. So you will make the right choice, no matter the cost."

"Or, when our worlds connect again, and they will," his voice now echoes in triplicate with the voices of the many, the young, the old, Tim, Bruce's mother, Barry Allen, Bruce's own voice, "I will not be the only one who comes for you."

"Now," he says, producing a Wayne Industries branded BIC pen. "I will tell you the location the boy is being kept, and then I would like my medallion back, please. In that order."

Bruce glances down and sees a golden talisman, attached to a black ribbon that is draped haphazardly around the neck of his bathrobe, so light (too light, he still should have—) he has not felt its weight until this moment.

Bruce flips the paper over, takes the pen, and jots down the coordinates the being rattles off over the face of a senator. By his calculation, they do correspond with a location in the midwest.

"You will find him on B6. Take a left down the hallway and he will be in the third room down, the one with a reinforced steel door. Take Mr. Kent and Mr. Grayson with you, and when you leave take the staircase at the end of the hallway, not the elevator."

The man gets up, dusts off his impeccably clean pants, and offers him a hand to shake.

"We will not meet again for some time, Mr. Wayne."

Bruce looks at the creature, stands, and shakes his hand. It feels like nothing. The Keeper of Time sighs, although nothing has been said.

"Ask your question, Mr. Wayne."

"I have more than one."

"You do," Clockwork says. "But I have heard them all, and so they are one. Please ask, or I will not be inclined to answer it."

"What does this boy mean for the future, that you are willing to sacrifice yourself for him?"

There is a pause.

"So that is the one," Clockwork says, after a time. "Yes. I see. I should resolve this, I suppose."

"Resolve what?"

"It is not his future I mean to protect," the man says. "It is his present."

"You want to keep him safe now..." Bruce says, but he's not sure what the being is trying to say.

"I am not inclined," Clockwork repeats, stops. His expression turns solemn, red eyes widening. In their reflection, Bruce can see something. A rush of movement too quick to make heads or tails of, like playing fast forward on a videotape. "Superman reports no signs of unusual seismic activity. With nothing further to look into, you let it go in favor of other investigative pursuits. You do not find him, as you are not meant to. He stays there. His family, his friends, they cannot find him. His captors tell him they have moved on. He does not believe them, until he does. He stays there. He stays there until he is strong enough to save himself."

Clockwork speaks stiffly, rattling off the chain of events as if reading a Justice League debrief. "He is King. He will always be King. He is strong, and good, and compassionate, and he is great for my people because yours have betrayed his trust beyond repair. He throws himself into being the best to ever Be, because there is nothing Left for him otherwise. We love him. We love him. We love him. My King. Forevermore."

The red film in his eyes stall out, and Bruce is forced to look away from how bright the image is, barely making out a silhouette before they dull back to their regular red.

"I am not inclined," Clockwork says slowly, "To this future."

"Because of what it means in the present," Bruce finishes for him. "They're not just imprisoning him, are they."

"They will have already muzzled him."

Clockworks is right in front of him faster than he can process, fist gripping the medallion at his neck so tight he now feels the ribbon digging into his skin.

"Unlike you, Mr. Wayne," and for the first time, the god is angry, and the image of it will haunt Bruce for the rest of his life, "I do not believe in building a better future on the back of a broken child."

"Find him," the deity orders, and yanks the necklace so hard the ribbon rips—

Clack!

"sluuuuurp!"

"Master Timothy, honestly!"

"Sorry Alfred!"

#i feel like I'm going to reread this and want to add other stuff #but I also just want to post it and get it out there #fun fact i scribbled a bunch of lines down at 2am bc i didn't want to forget them #im bad at multiple drafts #my writing #dp x dc #dp x dc au #dp x dc prompt #dp x dc crossover #danny phantom #batman #i live to make everybody dramatic #but also i subscribe to a world where clockwork doesn't know how NOT to be dramatic #lol he's a ghost from all of time he doesn't know how to speak to humans and tailor it to the century let alone the decade #and his favorite little girl who calls him clocky loves how he speaks so #he doesn't need to change for nobody #nor feels inclined to #also I feel like as god he's way more inclined to threaten to get what he wants than like...be vulnerable #jazz: let's unpack that #clockwork: we never do #jazz: are you saying that because it's true or because that's what you want to be true? #clockwork: ... #also I cannot take credit for BITCH I MIGHTWING #wish i could #that is cash money right there #shoutout to 11thsense

[callmerainman]

Alastor in a relationship with a pure hearted s/o

a/n. the relationship can be interpreted as queerplatonic or even romantic if you wish, but not sexual in any nature. hope Alastor is not ooc!

tw! canon typical violence

"cuddled up with a heart condemned, I should love you and I swear I do"

it's true that Alastor is touch averse, but this doesn't apply if it's you we're talking about.

also, we saw that Alastor dislikes physical touch only when it's someone else getting handsy with him. he can be pretty touchy if he wants to and likes to be close to you.

sneaking an arm around your waist, putting his hands on your shoulders, pecking your forehead. also, arms intertwined while walking around the city.

hand holding is more occasional, but not excluded at all.

he likes the sound of your laugh, and has a soft spot for your smile. he thinks that it suits you so well like a perfect-chosen accessory.

veeery protective. he knows you can be naïve and that Hell loves to take advantage of more innocent inhabitants.

he prefers to go with you when you have to leave the Hotel and strikes deathly smiles to anyone who dares to look at you with any kind of intention.

you're the only person who can see him drop his smile sometimes. he doesn't have to use it as a tool when you're around so there's no reason for him to always keep it. he doesn't feel vulnerable around your presence.

sometimes he comes back to the Hotel covered in blood. you don't approve his ways, and he knows, but he's just like this.

you shrug your shoulders, sigh, and then take some towels to clean him up.

"you'll end up ruining your coat and your pretty face like this"

loooves to dance with you. swing dancing specifically. maybe to the rhythm of an upbeat jazz tune in your room.

you were completely wack at dancing the Charleston, but he taught you well since he's an absolute beast at it.

you occasionally slow dance, it's a really intimate moment for you and Alastor and makes you both feel closer to each other. your favourite spot to slow dance is the forest in his room, especially at night under a clear and starry sky.

you like to drink together, he's a classy type of drunk and you make the best conversations while sharing a glass together.

sometimes, he'll start ruminating about the possibility of you redeeming yourself and leaving the Hotel.

he doesn't like ruminating, it makes him feel weird because he doesn't believe in redemption in the first place. so case closed...right?

he says to himself that even if you were to be, he would find a way to let you stay.

but he immediately tells himself that he doesn't want to force you. but he also starts to get concerned because it's not like him to contain himself and his cold heart. more ruminating, more concerned Alastor.

he's aware that he cares about you, and that you're special to him and that he feels a deep rooted love. but he never thought it would affect his evilness and now he's confused.

you like to cook for him, since you're aware that he's a huge foodie. and he loves to do the same for you! he likes to share his mom's recipes.

loves to call you "my darling"

you like to hang out at his radio tower, just listening to him intently while he hosts a program.

sometimes even asks you to join in to talk about jazz!

very occasionally sleeping together, just holding your hands with fingers intertwined.

honestly Alastor doesn't even know what love is, but he just knows that he feels it for you.

#alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel #vivziepop #alastor x reader #alastor #radio demon #alastor the radio demon #radio demon x reader #queerplatonic #hazbin hotel fanfiction #writers on tumblr #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x you #alastor x reader headcanons #headcanons

[princekeerys]

Human Alastor with an s/o who knows he is a serial killer but was never bothered by it.

human alastor is beginning to grow on me a lot, this is possibly the fastest blurb i’ve ever written <333

☾. °.   ࿐  ` , •

“you don’t have to do this every time i come home, my darling”

you were both sat on the edge of the bathtub, a wet washcloth that was warm in your hand as you cleaned alastor’s face of his victim’s blood. you didn’t know what time it was — all you knew is that it was late. and no one was up at this godforsaken hour.

“i know i don’t have to. but i do it because i want to,” you wipe off the last remainder of red splotches on his cheek, gentle and with care. and he’s staring into your eyes almost as if he’s enchanted by you. “think of it as a way of saying thank you, i suppose”

alastor chuckles at your silly little statement.

“thank you? my dear,” he reaches up to gently cup your cheek. your movements nearly stutter at how flustered you get, eyes widening with a flutter of your eyelashes. “there is no need to thank me in such a way when you know i’d kill anyone who even looks in your direction”

it’s messed up, you know, how your heart skips a beat at his confession, how it warms your heart that he’ll make damn sure that you’ll only be his for all eternity and beyond.

but you can’t help it.

everyone you’ve ever known has always been so prim and proper, made it feel like you were stepping on glass as you had to watch what you said and did so you weren’t damned.

but with alastor? he was a true gentleman; in a dark and twisted way. he danced with you in the living room to soft jazz, telling you how you were the most beautiful belle he’d ever laid his eyes on. you shared kisses in dark alleyways that you knew no one walked through at nighttime. he made you feel like a princess in some sort of fairytale.

it was poetic, bloody, and dark all at once.

and you were addicted to the thrill of it all.

you set the now blood stained cloth down as you took alastor’s glasses off his face, cleaning them with a breath and the hem of your summer dress.

“and you know i’ll always be here to clean you up afterwards,” you carefully place his glasses back on his face. you busy yourself with his bowtie, making sure it wasn’t crooked. “you don’t scare me. and neither does your infatuation with me. it’s rather… charming”

alastor hooks his pointer finger underneath your chin, making you look up at him.

“i suppose that makes us quite the pair then, hm?” he leans in closer with half lidded eyes.

“a murderous chap and his innocent beau”

please comment/reblog if you enjoyed my works, it’s greatly appreciated <3

#❥ lexi’s daydreams #alastor #alastor x reader #alastor x you #alastor fluff #alastor imagine #alastor fanfiction #alastor the radio demon #the radio demon #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fluff #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel x reader

[inkskinned]

these days, the summer fan is on, and there is a little cricket in you. your mother would say you don't have ambition, but that's not quite true. you just had different priorities: for most of your life, the pain swallowed so much of your energy that picturing a future was almost impossible. it took so much just to render yourself here without evaporating - making goals always felt shallow, far-off.

at 17, maybe you would have wanted to be famous. maybe you would have wanted to kiss every woman and come home late at night and call the dawn to heel like a dog. to meet taylor swift and ask her to collaborate on poems and french-kiss in the rain. to wiggle your fingers at jealous ex-lovers while you lifted the hem of your ballgown and got out of limousines. a life of rooftops, spinning and glittering.

these days, it isn't that you're tired, but that you have learned the weight of carrying things. you have had the good times. you have laughed at the bottom of a pool. you have had your hands on the paring knife. you know the cost of it, like a carcinogen. these days, you want a life like a stone fruit. these days, you want a life that lays gently on your skin, rather than piercing through.

you are going to get a little condo with your friend. the two of you fantasize about basic things: how it will feel to cook in a friendly kitchen. the serenity of picking out wall paint colors. putting plants in the sunlit corner. you want a place that never rings in anger. where the only echo is jazz music. you want a peace like holding your head under the water.

ah. maybe your younger self would be devastated - you got boring?

she doesn't know yet. she has lived her entire life terrified, running. she has grown so accustomed to the threat that she has fallen in love with the scythe. she thinks passionate and violent are synonyms, that anything lovely has to come with a bad side. she thinks life has to break like a wave - that you need to swallow the ocean in order to stay above the foam. she doesn't know about the boat yet. she doesn't know about spending hours at home, quiet, your hands folded, finding peace. she doesn't know about weightlessness. she thinks everything good is everything sharp. that the pain is what makes something satisfying.

one day she will make cookies from scratch. one day when she breaks a plate, she will be the only one around, and nobody will start shouting. one day she will slip her fingers under the sand, and it will make sense to her. the life assembling in little shards: oh. i've been afraid of a quiet life at home because i've never had a quiet home to come to before.

the gentle world inside her, singing behind a door.

#literally spending the last 3 days salivating over apartments #alex: wanna get a house together but be normal about it? #me: IF I DONT FIND A HOUSE IMMEDIATELY ALEX I AM A THREAT #writeblr #im simply not approaching this like a normal person. but like to be fair. my office my kitchen and my livingroom are all the same fucking #10 feet #if i lie down a certain way i am in all 3 spaces. and i am only 5 fucking feet tall

[dcxdpdabbles]

The Royal Consort. Part 3

"Mr. Fenton! Will you be attending the Wayne Charity Gala with your husband?" A reporter demands, thrusting her mic into Danny's face.

"I-" He tries to say, but another reporter jumps in.

"Is it true Bruce Wayne is attempting to have his kids seduce your husband?"

"What?"

"Mr. Fenton, is it true that you could stop a war simply by batting your eyelashes?!"

"Hey, now that's uncalled for."

"What is the political climate in the wake of the disbanded Anti-Ecto Acts?"

Danny couldn't even tell where the questions were coming from. He tried to push through the crowd of new crews, but every step of the way, more and more people crowded him.

He should've stayed in the hotel room Mr. Wayne had rented for his family, but Danny had thought he could sneak out and explore Gotham.

After Dani had burst into the meeting room, in all her ghostly glory, the Justice League had allowed them a short recess so his parents could meet their "granddaughter."

He is still determining exactly what she told them, as he is too busy to dodge more of Batman's questions. He just hoped she could keep the ruse up in the face of his parents' smothering apologies.

His dad wrapped her up I'm his arms, sobbing the whole time while his mother was snapping pictures of Dani, crying about how much she had grown.

Thank the stars Jazz had pulled her "niece" to the side for a short conversation. When they came back, Dani had taken the princess role so well that she answered most of the Ghost Zone questions like the ambassador she was pretending to be.

Her age? Yeah, that was off cause the time zone difference in the Ghost Zone. She was only four years in human years but looked sixteen due to her half-blood and where she grew up.

The chances of war? No, her dad had appeased the war council after the United Nations called the USA on their bullshit.

Demands Phantom had? Respect the dead. Honor the rights of his people. Leave the natural portals alone, and if his subjects were causing issues call one of his to take care of it.

Did she not need an anchor? She's half-human, so she could pop between worlds at will, but only because the Ghost King allowed it.

Where had she been before Phantom took the throne? Danny was not in a stage of life to raise a child- he had only been fifteen!- so Phantom raised her in his lair. Yes, she came to visit Danny.

Did she practically say she was a child of separated parents? Yes. Did she regret it? Only when rumors about Phantom wanting to replace Danny sprung, and she had people trying to get her to introduce them to his "father."

How strong was she? Step into the ring, Wonder Woman; let's test it. (They did spar, and surprisingly, she gave Wonder Woman a run for her money, but in the end, the more experienced fighter won. The Amazonian offered to train her)

By the end of it, Danny and Dani left with stacks of possible legislation about peace among their people. They both promised to get it to Phantom.

Just as they left, Batman informed them that Bruce Wayne had invited them to the Gala. He also offered them asylum in Gotham by housing them in his family manor until the media died.

Danny had almost accepted, but Jazz had stepped in with sharp eyes and a cold smile. "Please tell Mr. Wayne we are honored by the offer, but we would prefer our own space."

Batman grunted. "Would a penthouse be predered?"

"Yes, thank you."

He loved Jazz.

His mom had whispered in Danny's ear as they were teleporting- the Justice League had teleporting technology!?- back to Earth. "Do you think the rumors about Bruce Wayne being Batman's lover are true?"

Danny had yet to pay much mind to Wes Weston's theories, but honestly, the way Batman was able just to promise things on Mr. Wayne's behalf.....well, if the Box Ghost and Lunch Lady could happen, why not a billionaire and a crime-fighting

Danny, Jazz, and Dani had been hiding in the pen house for about three days. His parents had returned home to secure their lab after the fifth time curious meddlesome reporters had tripped their house security.

Danny will admit he went stir-crazy, so using his powers, he turned invisible and went out when his sisters had been watching a show. He had made it for about five hours when someone saw him buying a coffee and tweeted his location.

His sightseeing had been cut short by the crowds of people that swarmed him.

"Mr. Fenton, what do you say about parents criticizing how early you married?"

Danny was pushed up against the wall by the crowd, wishing he could just turn ghost and drop this whole thing. He felt a burning sensation in the back of his eyes, and for one horrifying moment, he thought they were going to record him bursting into tears when a man broke through the crowd.

"That is far enough!" The man placed himself in front of Danny, shielding the eighteen-year-old. His British accent made the sharpness of his words even more scorching. "You all know that a press conference will be in a few days and that surrounding a royal could be an act of war! Get back!"

Danny had a moment of relief until someone snatched his arm. He flinches away, going for a punch, but it gets caught by the person tugging him through the crowd.

Danny could only blink at the smiling face of Dick Grayson until the man helped him into a car. The British man quickly came back, jumping into the driver's seat and speeding off as the crowd of reporters tried to get one last photo.

Danny's breaths were coming in short, fast puffs. He wasn't very sure what was going on. He couldn't think. There were so many flashes. So many voices. So many people-!.

A hand pushed his head between his knees, rubbing his back. "It's okay. You're okay. "

Danny gasped, tears finally falling as he tried to explain why he had done something stupid. "I-i just wanted to see- the landmarks- I didn't mean- I- I."

"Shhh. I know. It's okay. You're okay."

After a while, Danny was able to sit up. His saviors had asked him to name five things he saw, four things he could hear, three things he could listen to, and one thing he could taste to calm down, but it worked. Only then did he realize there were more people in the fancy car with them.

A boy his age sat on his right, having been the one to push his head down. It took only a second to recognize him: Tim Drake, teenage CEO and one of the most attractive men he had ever seen.

A blond teenage girl who also seemed their age sat in the passenger seat, though she twisted around to give him a warm smile. She was also very gorgeous.

Not to mention Dick Grayson, who had a warm hand on his back. Adonis must have returned as the first adopted son of Bruce Wayne because, goddam, that man was fine.

Even the British man was handsome for someone his grandfather's age.

Had he died (again) and gone to heaven?

"Here," Drake placed a cold water bottle in his palm, offering the gobsmacked Danny a small smile. "Drink. It'll help."

"Ugh...I.. thank you for rescuing me," He managed to gasp out.

"Don't mention it. We all know the hell of the paparazzi. Glad you alright. " the girl said. "I'm Stephanie Brown, but you can call me Steph. The guy to your right is Tim Drake, the one on your left is Dick Grayson, and this fine man driving us is Alfred Pennyworth."

"I'm Danny Fenton." He says, taking a swing. The cold water went down his throat and grounded him.

"We know. You've made quite the wave with your marriage." Grayson said though not unkindly. "We'll have to take you to our manor to switch cars; otherwise, they'll just wait for us at the hotel."

Danny thought it over before whispering, "Can I message my sister? She must be worried-"

A portal rips open in front of him. The other humans all let out cries of alarm but not as loudly as Danny when Phantom's head pokes out of it.

He has a moment to wonder how in the world that was possible until the ghost waves at him using one of Clockwork's necklaces. Oh, it's him from the future. Okay. That's happening.

"Darling! I felt you in distress! What happened?! Shall I punish everyone in Gotham? " Phantom questions in a tone Danny had never been aware he could make. It's smooth. It's all-knowing. It's seductive.

What the fuck is going on?

"There is no need for any form of punishment. Not to worry, your highness." Drake quickly jumps in. "We would never allow anything to happen to your husband. I will personally keep Mr. Fenton away from any danger. "

Danny watched in slight horror as his future ghost self gave the other man a long look before smirking. "I appreciate the offer, and you are certainly my type with that black hair and blue eyes, but I am fine with only one husband. Danny will decide to add you to the marriage if he would like to have more partners."

Drake blinks wide started eyes. "I- I beg your pardon?"

"I have a protection and ice core. Proclaiming to keep my romantic partner safe is the same as asking for my hand in marriage due to the customs of protective spirits. Were you not aware?"

"I wasn't!" Danny interrupts loudly. " I was very unaware that meant marriage proposals!"

Phantom gives him a cheeky smile, and suddenly Danny understands why all his Rouges had wanted to beat his face so often. He can be rather annoying.

"No one will be above you, darling. You are the embodiment of beauty, and I would never desire another. However, the royal family is allowed concubines. You may take human ones if you wish to. I wouldn't want to ruin any of your fun."

"Who told you to say this!?" Danny demands, forgetting himself for a moment. Or the watchful eyes of the Waynes swinging between them with prompt attention.

"Why just the royal advisor!" Phantom laughs, his white hair bouncing as he tilts his head.

Jazz. She was responsible for this. How could he have thought she was sane?

"I don't want a concubine!" Danny yells, face burning. He's never been more mortified in his life, including walking down. For breakfast in Superman boxers, only to find Superman at the bottom of the stairs.

What a terrible day that was to run out of clean pants.

Phantom smiles. "I love you too, darling. I shall see you soon. I do not wish to strain your body anymore."

He thrusts his head back into the glowing green portal, and with a soft pop, he's gone. The car is utterly silent until Grayson whispers.

"Does this mean Tim just got married through fae laws?"

Danny whips his head at him. "No! It does not!"

Drake lets out a small breath of relief. "Oh, thank God. Not that you aren't hot, Mr. Fenton, but I'm not ready for marriage."

Danny wonders if he can reach the door handle to throw himself out of a speeding car. He knows somewhere in the future. He is laughing his ass off at current him.

"Dude, none taken. Could you clarify how I ended up here? I just wanted to jump across Gotham roofs, and suddenly, I can marriage trap people."

Danny wishes he could kick his own ass- not counting Dan- as Steph breaks into uncontrolled laughter.

"Oh, Danny, you're going to fit in well!" She says between wheezing.

Grayson raises his hand, face glued to his phone. "Bruce just sent in the family group chat that none of us are allowed near Phantom."

"Why?" Danny asks.

Grayson shrugs. "We're all his type, and Bruce's heart can't handle that."

"Fair enough"

(Part 1) (Part 2)

#dcxdpdabbles #dc x dp crossover #the royal consort #Part 3 #Danny time traveled just keep up the ruse #Jazz figured out Batman was suspecting something so she sent him back to give Phantom a Brucie Wayne cover #Bruce is having a heart attack #Once again Alfred is Real MVP

[artemismoorea03]

DP x DC Prompt: Backup Plans

Danny had a list of 'backup plans' and plans for his backup plans. If his secret got out and his parents didn't take it well he needed a backup. If the world found out he had a back up for that. If both happened there was a third plan. If the worst came true and his loved ones all died in a fiery blast and he was potentially forced to live with Vlad - there was a backup for that too.

Most of the back ups meant living in Sam or Tuckers house without knowing, leaving with Jazz to another city, moving into the Ghost Zone, or leaving America all together (he was thinking Antarctica because of the cold, distance and frequent Ghost Portals that opened there).

But there were backup plans for that too, because if Vlad was determined enough he would go to the ends of the earth (literally) to find him. So, with Clockworks blessing and very vague gesturing towards one section of the Zone he started looking for backup plans in the Infinite Realms.

Which is how he ended up in Gotham City when a natural portal opened up. It was the middle of the day - not ideal - and he appeared right in the middle of a crowded room - even less ideal. It seemed like some kind of... reward ceremony? There were people in spandex on a stage, looking surprised as Danny got ready to book it.

At least that was until one of the spandex wearers approached him. He was wearing all black with pointy... ears? and some kind of bat symbol on his chest.

"Alien, Meta or being from another dimension?" He simply asked.

"Uh... the third one?" Danny replied, looking around anxiously as the bat-guy reached into his belt, pulling out what looked like a PDA but without buttons. Seeing Danny's confusion he turned it on, the screen lighting up with a form.

"Alright. Come stand over here with me and fill this out."

Danny didn't know what was happening but was even more concerned when he actually read what the not-PDA said.

Alternate Dimension Traveler Documentation Form 301

"Do... you get visitors from other dimensions a lot?" Danny asked, following bat-guy to the corner.

"Occasionally."

"Oh... and that's okay?"

"If they're not here to cause trouble, yes."

Danny smiled at this, "Well I'm definitely not here to do that. I'm looking for a backup plan."

"Backup plan?"

"Mhm." Danny said looking at the not-pda curiously as he tried to figure out how to work it. "You know, in case my parents find out what I am and try to cut me open, my Godfather tries to kidnap or torture me, or my Government captures me and performs legal experimentation's on me as a way to destroy an entire dimension and potentially all connecting dimensions - including yours... say to you have a stylus or something? I'm not sure how this works."

Bat-guy simply blinked slowly, then put his hand on his shoulder as he lead him further from the crowd and sat him down. "You use your finger. See, tap where you want to type and go from there."

"Oh, neat! Thanks bat-dude."

"It's Batman, and you are?"

"Phantom. Danny Phantom. Nice to meet you."

#dp x dc prompt #dc x dp prompt #my prompts

[alientee]

Alastor x Jessica Rabbit Reader Part 2

You and Alastor are walking down the street and you couldn't help but hold him even closer if possible. Everyone was staring at you, some even stopping in the middle of the street to gawk at you both. You look at Alastor to see if he's noticing the same thing but he couldn't be bothered. "Honey where are we going" Alastor smiles down at you "A lovely little place called Cannibal town. Is similar to our time line."

You look up at him nervously. "Are you sure its alright for me to be there darling... will someone try to..eat me" Alastor stops walking lifting your chin up. "Well darling you are delectable enough to eat, but rest assured anyone who comes near you with that motive will be slaughtered where they stand. Besides there's someone I would like you too meet"

You sigh placing a hand on his chest "I trust you honey" He pats your head "Good now look alive we are almost there." You walk into a nice clean town that looks true to his word somewhat similar to when you and Alastor were alive. You see many of the people working and keeping the town clean, it didn't seem like hell at all. Alastor brings you both into a nice looking shop and opens the door for you. You walk in the store and it seems so nice and cozy on the inside.

"Alastor?! oh alastor what a surprise!" A grey woman with black eyes and sharp teeth comes up towards alastor hugging him tightly "And who is this you brought with you, your such a charmer Alastor this is the second time you've come to my store with a woman in tow. And a angel no less what a surprise this is. " Alastor brings you closer to him "This treasure is my lovely wife, y/n this is Rosie one of my good friends and one hell of a overlord." Rosie looked at you with shock on her face "Your wife?! And here I thought you were an ace in the hole." Rosie laughs while Alastor just looks confused. "I still don't know what that means" You snicker. “Hate to break it to you but he still is.” Rosie grabs you both. "Come in come in we have MUCH to discuss."

Rosie takes you two to a back room with more privacy. She pulls out a small box offering it to you. "Would you like some pinky fingers hun, not that you need them your figure is to die for." You quickly but kindly refuse. "Ohhh no thank you I don't have my husbands taste for flesh hehe." Rosie put them away looking at Alastor smugly. "Oh Alastor don't tell me you thought she looked pretty enough to eat but you just couldn't do it could you? You fell too hard to soon haha"

Alastor looks at Rosie smile still on with his eyes closed. "I can assure you I never thought of such a thing" Rosie scoffs a little "You can't fool me Alastor a doll like her, you must've fantasized about a taste once an a while." You can hear the static in Alastors voice rise. "Rosie, do believe me when I say I have not, please." Rosie seems to pick up on the change of mood. "I see well tell me how you to met, I can't imagine old alastor here pulling a gal like you he's so reserved when he wants to be, no offense hon"

"Oh well we met in a jazz club and he was just dancing his heart out. I guess he had had to much whiskey because he asked me to dance and I said yes. He pulled me all over the dance floor. I was surprised I could keep up with him, next thing you know he's coming to my shows given me flowers with full blushed face and a nervous wide smile. He had me charmed being such a gentleman especially with that accent." Rosie looks even more intrigued "Alastor has an accent? Now this is news to me, where is it." You gave Alastor a look."That's what id like to know, honey?"

Alastor's smile drops a little but not by much "Well in radio you have to talk proper and clearly to give your audience a good show" You roll your eyes but let it go and keep talking to Rosie. You like her she's very kind and inviting you can see why Alastor is fond of her. Rosie gives you a hug saying if you ever saw each other again she had to get all the gossip on Alastor. As you and him are leaving he stops for a moment lifting up your chin with his finger. "So ya missed this cher?"

You blushed moving your head away. "Alastor don't you start" All he did was chuckle at you. "Why not? ya missed my accent so much. I remember how I made you shiver when I talked to ya nice." You looked at alastor a playful glare in your eyes. "Its been to long since we've been apart but I think we both know your not…. How the kids say, about that life." He looks at you funny before linking your arms. “I’ll never understand all the phrases that come up today always a diffrent one each time.”

When you roll your eyes at him his smile gets wider kissing your forehead. "Lets go to our next destination" You feel him put his arm over your shoulder leading you forward. "Which is?" "A theme Park named LuLu World, we didn't have one of those when we were alive." you nodded "Oh yes the first one came out when I was in my 80's. I could never go see it for myself." Alastor pulled you along faster "Well wait no longer here we are!" You look around and its nothing but bright colorful lights, contraptions you'd never seen and loads of food everywhere with people in costumes.

"Oh wow this is a lot to take in" Alastor grabs your hand holding it tighter than you would've wanted. " Stay very close to me who knows who's watching. Wouldn't want my mon amour to get lost or hurt." You smiled slightly a little worried but ready to have fun.

"I don't know Vox I don't think Tv's should be on rides, you could shatter If your not careful haha" Vox rolled his eyes eating his cotton candy. "Oh fuck you Val, maybe you shouldn't get on a roller coaster, might fly away with those fat ass wings." Valentino flinched " Oh you take that back you wide faced B-!" Velvette pushes herself between both of them. "Hey you lot, while you two are ova here bitchin, that radio demons got a bad bitch on his arm, looks like a angel literally."

Both of them look over to where she was talking about and she was right. There was Alastor walking hand and hand with an angel. Vox pushes forward he couldn't believe this shit. "What the fuck is someone like that doing with Alastor! I'm following him, that old timey prick is up to something. I refuse for him to get ahead of me in what ever the fuck he's doing." The other V's roll their eyes following his league. They ended up following behind the two for a few minutes not realizing that Alastor's shadow had noticed them.When the shadow warned Alastor he clenched his smile, he refused for these idiots to ruin what was a lovely date to his wife.

Alastor uses his shadows to stop them in there place making them all fall on there face. Alastor pushes you on your lower back, speeding up your movement. "Come dear there is so much more to see, look over there a clown show." You turn your head intrigued at the many tricks the clowns showed even if they looked deadly.

Vox gets up angry , his screen slightly buffering. "That fucking coward, I'll give that piece of shit something to smile about." Vox starts looking around trying to find anything heavy but only seeing stuffed animals. Growing frustrated he grabs the first thing that looks heavy and throws it at Alastor. Alastor feels a heavy object smack him right in the back of the head making him fall forward, he catches himself picking up whatever Vox threw ready to smack him in the face with it. He turned around to see Vox flipping him off. "Thats what you get bitch"

His antlers grew with his eyes turning into dials, voodoo symbols surrounding him. " Oh Alastor is that for me!" Alastor turns back to normal, he finally looks at what's in his hand. It's a multicolored glass sculpture of flowers. He took the opportunity to shove them into you with a smile larger than usually. "Of course sweetie, anything for my baby" He pulls you closer flipping Vox and the other two off while walking away.

Both Velvette and Valentino look at Vox while he's fuming. Velvette speaks up first "You know you helped him rizz right?" Vox turns around making a scene "I CAN FUCKING SEE THAT. How in the fuck did he land someone so out of his league, that prudish jackass! It's not fair!" Valentino just looks at them walking away raising an eyebrow. "That virgin is so not hitting that right"

As you and Alastor walk through the theme park you couldn't help but feel a little clingy. Spending this much time together is making you nostalgic. It made you feel like you and Alastor where as happy as you used to be. "Come on Alastor, let's go home, I'll make you some jambalaya." He looks at you with a smile as wide as his eyes right now. He lowers his face to your's his radio static making his voice deeper. "That sounds lovely."

@fairyv-ice @sirens-and-moonflowers @cannibalcoyote @jyoongim

#hazbin hotel #alastor x y/n #hazbin alastor #alastor x reader #alastor x you #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor #alastor the radio demon #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor hazbin x reader

[leossmoonn]

Welcome back, Sara!!! For a fluffy Mike idea, maybe just a cozy rainy day spent at home with Mike and Abby? Like watching movies with cups of hot cocoa under a mountain of blankets, and all that jazz

Hi Logan ☺️☺️☺️ thanks for sending this in. I’m always afraid of writing fluff fics bc like everyone wants the smut, but it’s reassuring to have this put in lol

it’s a sunday and mike just so happens to have the day off. he’s been working long and hard hours and you convinced him to take the day off. you and abby are so excited; you two planned the whole day from the moment you woke up to the time it was time for abby to sleep. unfortunately, it’s rainy and a sudden wind chill swept through. none of you need to get sick and mike didn’t want to make making abby carry an umbrella, so you make the quick decision to stay in. abby’s a little disappointed, but you try to make up for it.

the first thing you and mike do in the morning is make a fort with abby. and not just a little four corners fort. no, she makes you cover the entire living room with blankets. even the tv was included! you and mike are dragged into some play-pretend games. for a lot of them mike’s forced to play some sort of villan.

“why can’t i play the hero, abby?” mike frowns. “because that’s her job!” abby points to you.

mike gives you a look and you shrug. “abby’s the director here. cant fight with the boss.”

mike rolls his eyes, wanting to get out of the humid blankets and sleep, but he knows how happy this makes abby. and even though abby is making him play the bad guy, he knows she means it out of love and he also loves getting to spend as much time with abby as he can. watching you act is pretty cute as well.

once abby gets bored of playing in her fort — which is like 3 hours later — she decides she wants to watch a movie.

“let’s clean up first, yeah?” mike suggests. “no! let’s keep the fort up to watch the movie!” abby says.

“abby, no. we had our fun with the fort. it’s time to turn the house back to normal,” mike says. “please say we can keep the fort up!” abby pouts as she looks up at you.

mike gives you a warning look, but you can’t say no to abby. “let’s just keep the fort up for the movie, yeah?”

abby squeals and wiggles back into the fort. mike glares at you. “she’s never going to want to take it down.”

“she will when it’s time for bed, which is hours away.” you step closer to him, gently putting your hand on his shoulder. “how about i pop some popcorn — the real stuff on the stove — and i make us some hot coca, okay?”

well, who was mike to turn down stove-popped popcorn and hot cocoa. he felt like a little kid again. it doesn’t help that you and abby’s pouty faces were ganging up on him. he sighs in defeat and nods, crossing his arms around his chest.

“fine, but after the movie, we will clean all this up, okay?”

“of course,” you nod. you turn to abby who is lit up with excitement. “can i pick the movie?”

“yep! do you want any popcorn?” you ask her. “yes. can you put m&ms in mine?” she asks. “you got it, babe,” you answer.

you three settle in the fort, abby laying on her stomach right in front of the tv. she chose “Lady and The Tramp”, which was one of her more enjoyable movie choices.

“mike, you’re kind of like the tramp,” abby comments, popping a handful of popcorn and m&ms into her mouth.

you begin to laugh but cover it up with a cough when mike shoots you a glare. “abby, that’s not very nice.”

“he knows it’s true,” she says, kicking her feet up and dangling them in the air. “And you’re like Lady.”

you glance at mike, a small smile on your face. you lean into him, your nose brushing against the scruff on his cheek. “i think what she’s trying to say is that we are perfect for each other.”

the tips of his ears turn pink. he wraps his arm around you, pulling you in so your head rests on his shoulder. “she could’ve said it differently, though.”

you giggle, “nah, i think it’s accurate.” he rolls his eyes, but there’s no denying the smile on his face and twinkle in his eye.

mike ends up falling asleep towards the end of the movie. his head rests on your chest, both arms around your waist to hold you close. your hands are in his hair, massaging his scalp while the credits roll.

“why is he so tired all the time?” abby pouts. “he works a lot,” you say. “but i’m sure he’ll wake up soon. why don’t you help me clean the fort up?”

“do i have to?” abby frowns. “i think mike would appreciate that,” you say.

“ugh, fine. but only if we can have pancakes for dinner.”

you grin and nod, “you got it.”

mike wakes up to the smell of chocolate chip pancakes. he twists and turns on the floor, the sizzle of bacon him bringing him into consciousness. he begins to open his eyes, his back beginning to ache from sleeping on the floor. he hears some giggling coming from the kitchen, sitting himself up on his elbow and peering over the couch. you’re at the stove, a spatula in your hand. abby’s sitting at the table, crayons littering the wood.

“look who’s up!” you exclaim. mike groans softly as he sits up, using the couch as a crutch to stand up. “i’m sorry i fell asleep. between the rain and the pillows —”

“shush,” you cut him off. he walks over to you, wrapping an arm around your waist, his fingers tracing sliver of skin on the small of your back that’s exposed. “i ruined our day.”

“no, you didn’t. right, abs?” you turn to her. “you did snore a lot, but you didn’t,” she says. you smile at mike, “see? all is well.”

“smells good.” he mumbles as he wraps both arms around your waist, placing his chin onto your shoulder.

“me or the food?” you glance at him with a teasing smile. he takes a not-so-nonchalant inhale of your skin. “both,” he answers.

“ew!” abby grimaces behind you two. you and mike both laugh and he presses a kiss to your cheek before pulling away. he brings some plates and silverware out, sitting across from abby and waiting for the food.

mike stares as you two discuss abby’s drawing. he can’t wipe the smiles off of his face. his life was never perfect and he knew it was never going to be, but if he could just keep this — keep you two — he would then be able to call it perfect.

“mike,” abby says with a little pout. “what’s up?” he asks.

“do you have to go back to work tomorrow?” she asks. “i do, but you also have to go back to school,” he states.

“i don’t want to,” she says. mike sighs, the calmness from his body fleeting. “you don’t have a choice, abby. i’m sorry.”

“i… i just mean… i want this day to last forever.”

his eyes widen and glance up at you. you’re rubbing her back soothingly, giving him an encouraging smile.

“maybe we can do something special for dinner again tomorrow,” you suggest. “we can watch a movie and even eat dinner on the couch.”

abby’s face lights up and she nods. “okay! can i pick the movie again?”

“only if you don’t compare me to a dog again,” mike says. abby giggles and puts a forkful of pancakes in her mouth before speaking again. “we’ll see,” she quips.

mike looks back at you, placing his hand inside of yours on the table. your feet slides up his calf, your eyes soft as you look over his face. his heart warms and for the first time in a while, he feels at peace.

#mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt #mike schmidt fluff #mike schmidt x reader fluff #fnaf #josh hutcherson x reader #josh hutcherson

[flamingpudding]

Fictober23 Prompt: 19 - "What if we're wrong?"

Fandom: DPxDC

Rating: T

Warnings: -

A/N: Sort of Danny's perspective and a different side to Prompt 4, probably not as creative as the awesome reblogs and comments but hope people will still like it. Also posting this early too because I am an impatient B and going to be busy with work tomorrow again.

Danny looked nervously up at his sister who was giving him an encouraging smile and had placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. His gaze wandered back to the paper in his hands, a face with a confident smile printed largely on it. A cutout from a business magazine Jazz had happened to read.

"It's not too late, we could still just turn around and go back to Amity." Danny muttered, the paper crumpling ever so slightly in his hands. His sister sighed, wishing that her brothers best friends could have come along with them.

"Danny, it will be fine." She told him her hand moved from his shoulder to rub comforting circles on her brother's back. "Let's settle into the hotel first. We have your entire semester vacation to figure out how to continue from there."

"But Jazz, what if we're wrong? Just because I was adopted as a baby and that Ancestry thing I did in middle school contacted us about someone matching up with the DNA I sent there in middle school, it doesn't mean that he is…"

"Danny." Jazz cut in, lightly pushing her brother forward so he would start moving. "You are starting to overthink again."

"But we could be wrong!" Danny insisted once more the paper now completely crumbled in his hands. "This sounds too good to be true! And you know that good things don't just easily happen to me! I know something is going to happen to mess it all up or maybe I will mess it all up and…"

Jazz turned on her brother to make him face her, they had barely managed to step out of the airport before her brother fell into another spiral, one of many he had ever since that Ancestry Agency had contacted them. She cradled her brother's face in her hands making him look at her.

"Danny. When you had that school project about Ancestry in middle school, Mom and Dad admitted to having you adopted as a baby but not your twin brother you already freaked out then. You did that whole DNA thing with the school project as cover in hopes that your brother might have done it too. When nothing came back from it, what did I tell you then?"

"That I was an idiot to do it behind your back?" Jazz pinched her little brother's cheeks with a fond smile.

"Not that, what else did I say?"

"That I will always be your brother no matter what?"

"And?"

"And… and that I shouldn't lose hope because you would help me if I really wanted to meet him."

Jazz changed her hold on her brother from cradling his face to hugging him tightly. "That's right idiot. So if you really want to go back to Amity Park we can easily do that, there is no need for you to panic." She felt her brother nodd into her shoulder. "So do you really want to go back?"

"I guess… I could at least see if all these magazines are telling the truth and if he really is living a good life." Jazz pulled away from her brother now holding him by his shoulders and beamed at him happily. Before leading her brother to the hotel she had booked for them.

Both did not notice that their little exchange had happened in perfect view of a surveillance camera and had gotten caught by someone who had gotten interested in their movements ever since a certain someone had a little freak out in regards to finding someone that shared his DNA.

Later at night on the same day, Danny found himself unable to sleep. Feeling restless he decided to take a look at the night sky's of Gotham in hopes to calm his growing nervousness ever since he arrived in this city. Jazz was sleeping peacefully in the room next to his, so to not disturb her, he changed forms, turned invisible and phased through several ceilings until he reached the roof.

Once there Danny dropped his invisibility as well as transformation and just sat on the roof, not on the edge mind you, but by the door that usually would have led up here doing his best to look as much as a normal civilian trying to enjoy the night sky as possible. He had heard about Batman not wanting any Metas in his city, Phantom probably wouldn't be very welcomed either then.

Danny sat there staring up at the cloudy skies, frowning how with the light pollution and clouds he was unable to see even a single star. He was contemplating the pros and cons about changing form and flying above the cloud level to see the stars when he heard a soft thud not too far from him. Too silent to be picked up by normal hearing but his ghost enchanted one picked it up.

"You are not from Gotham, are you?" Danny tensed at the voice that resounded over the roof. His head turned towards where the voice came from and noticed the figure shadowed by the clouds, glad in red and black colores. "Gothamites know not to be out on roofs at night."

Danny swallowed but didn't move as the figure stepped closer. "You are Red Robin."

"So you know of me?" Danny watched how the other twirled around a bo-staff, if he didn't know better he would have said that the vigilante appeared nervous.

"My best friend kind of told me about the vigilantes of Gotham when he learned that I was going to visit the city." He carefully admitted to Red Robin and Danny wasn't lying Tucker had prepared an entire list about Gotham's vigilantes as well as all the celebrities. Danny was very thankful that he had not mentioned to his best friend that Tim Drake-Wayne might be the twin he had been looking for for years now. That would have been a whole other ordeal he didn't want to deal with yet.

"Got a favorite yet?" The vigilante asked and did Danny imagine it or was his tone weirdly hopeful?

He shrugged as answer, noting how the vigilantes' shoulders appear to drop in disappointment. Though a moment later Red Robin walked a bit closer and crouched, while Danny had yet to move from his sitting position. "So… why are you out on the roof late at night?"

"I was hoping to see the stars."

"The stars?"

"Stargazing always helped me calm down." Danny admitted turning his gaze from the vigilante to the cloudy sky. He didn't take his eyes completely off the other, his shoulders were still tense but for some reasons his body wanted to relax in the other's presence.

"You went up on a roof late at night to calm down?" He eyed the vigilante, wondering why the other was so interested in Danny right now but also wondering if Danny was really going to dumb his whole emotional turmoil on a complete stranger. What would Jazz say if she knew about this? Probably psycho analyze this whole situation and reason that Danny just wanted someone not involved to just listen to him without the objectives Jazz wasn't able to provide.

He eyed the vigilante once more, noting how the other appeared to be just as tense as Danny was, before opening his mouth. "I am only in Gotham because the twin I have been looking for for years lives here."

The vigilante hummed, sounding interested, indicating for Danny to continue. "I don't even know if he knows about me or would even want to see me. For all I know he doesn't even know I exist. Mom and Dad adopted me from the orphanage as a baby but not my twin brother."

Danny started to ramble on not noticing the sharp intake of air Red Robin took. "He may have a perfectly good life! And here I am appearing out of nowhere and possibly destroying it! What if I mess up his whole family dynamic! I mean how crazy is that? A stranger just appears out of nowhere saying he is your twin with no proof other than the stupid mail from an Ancestry DNA Testing facility stating they found a DNA similar to your own? Ancients, this sounds even more stupid when I say it out loud!"

In his rant Danny hadn't noticed Red Robin having come closer and their hand carefully hovering over his shoulder. "Hey…"

He looked up sharply at the vigilante next to him that was now placed on his shoulder, radiating a warmth that felt grounding to Danny. "I am sure it is not as bad as you think it is. If those Ancestry people contacted you, they might have contacted your twin also and who knows he could possibly be very interested in learning more about your whole situation?"

Danny blinked at the vigilante that was apparently trying to give him a reassuring smile despite the upper half of his face being covered by a mask and he couldn't help but return the smile with a small grateful one of his own.

The vigilante looked like he wanted to say something else but Danny's phone suddenly started buzzing, he hurried to pull it out of his pockets noticing several texts from his sister arriving in a rapid fashion.

"My sister." He muttered, looks like Jazz had woken up and tried to check on him like he was still a little child, he smiled fondly at the phone.

Side eyeing the vigilante, both stood up. "I uh…"

"You better hurry back in. She will probably grow more worried the longer you stay up here."

Blinking at the vigilante, Danny nodded, moving towards the door that would lead back into the building while the vigilante started to move towards the edge of the building. Before Danny could try to see if the door was locked or open he turned over his shoulder wanting to voice his thanks to the other for listening to his ranting but found the vigilante gone.

Staring for a moment before shrugging Danny let his eyes wander over the roofs of the other buildings just in case before deciding to forgo his transformation and just phase through the floors invisible without it until he reached his room.

In the shadows on the roof of the building to the side Red Robin arched an eyebrow under his mask before turning to the coms. "Meta status is confirmed. Also Nightwing, think you can help me create the most natural and unsuspicious situation for me to meet him tomorrow? I already have a couple of ideas."

"I think we can work something out easily RR."

"Good."

"It sounded like there was a whole lot more to this twin situation than we originally thought."

"Yea..."

"Chin up Red! We will get to the bottom of this!"

"He likes stargazing..." Red Robin mutter to himself, not really listening to his siblings on the coms. "I will take him to the planetarium, first chance I got."

#fictober23 #danny fenton #danny phantom #dp x dc #crossover #dpxdc #dcxdp #tim drake #fanfic #tim and danny are twins #neither are a Fenton or Drake #they got adopted by two different families as babies #The drakes wanted an heir #the Fentons only one companion for their daughter #Danny learned about his twin in middle school #he has been trying to find him since then #Tim only found out recently #The Drakes never intended for him to find out #Danny was prepared to never let Tim know #Tim has other ideas though #Danny just doesn't know that yet #Danny doesn't know that Tim is Red Robin #Tim knows that Danny is Phantom

[neoyi]

Okay, cool. I can finally talk about the absolute catharsis I felt after fifteen years hoping - dreaming - of this moment because holy SHIT, they did it. They goddamn DID IT.

VLAD GOT HIS REDEMPTION ARC.

Let's talk about it...

By the end of the third season, Vlad Masters had ostracized the entire planet by exposing his true self (why), demanding money and total command of Earth, and completely wailing on Jack Fenton, driving away the only member of that family who unequivocally adored the man where every other Fenton knew him for who he truly was: utterly despicable and incapable of seeing the bigger picture.

Because, after all, he is a villain and that's just what villains do. Villains want power. Villains want to rule the world. There need not be more than that, and in another show, there wouldn't have to be. As far as Hartman was concerned, there is only a binary Good vs. Evil.

You would be hard-pressed to view the Vlad in "Phantom Planet" as the same man who anguished in desperate madness when his perfect clone son died in his arms. That was a Vlad who, by that point, had taken his biggest gamble and lost. I guess one could see his reasoning in season three as a "fuck it all, what even is the point" mode. But while "Eye For an Eye" (tellingly, the last major script helm by former main story writer Steve Marmel... just saying) promised a personal conflict, by the end of the show, he's made it much more external, far greater than what he and Danny's interwoven plot originally started off as.

Vlad is pathetic. Vlad is narcissistic. He is egotistical, entitled; a bitter, arrogant man who lives in his dream castle with all the money and privilege in the world that would leave him content a hundred times over, and it's still not enough.

Money is not Maddie Fenton, the woman he loves. Money is not Jazz, a child that should have been his. Money is not Jack's friendship whom he denies severely, the only part of his life who willingly embraces him. And money is not Danny, who is a half-ghost like him, and by all rights, should have been his son.

No one else could ever understand to the fullest extent of their uniqueness than Vlad and Danny would to each other, and the latter, for the longest time, hated that. Hated the way Vlad talked down to him and manipulated him, hated the whispers into his ears with promises of grand power if he just joined the billionaire's side and become his ward, hated when he caved in just once in front of Vlad's eyes who responded with a smug "See, I know you" reaction. Danny was fortunate to have good moral compasses from his family and friends, but the thing is, though, it's not about the healthy support structure he had, because Vlad had the chance to get some, too. Jack and Maddie loved Danny no matter what he was, and dollars to donuts, they would have for Vlad if the latter had approached them with his problems.

But he chose instead to be bitter and miserable, taking it out on everyone and expecting them to fall into his train of thought. The show knew what he did was wrong, but until season three, never stopped repeating his truest desire: to find love and squash his crushing loneliness.

Hartman couldn't provide a damn on what exactly was Vlad's "destiny" in "Infinite Realm"; it was vague gesturing to excuse his villainy. He was more than happy to abandon the life he's made for himself and the woman he loved in spite of two decades of planning, all on a whim for whatever time period the Infi-map was willing to take him, hoping maybe this one will give him the unconditional worship that he thinks he's deserved (by force, of course.)

Because he's the villain.

And for the longest time, the show ended with the idea that Vlad deserved to be stranded, away from people, because he simply could not help himself. To be fair, there is a lesson in that - some people genuinely DO go so far that there really is nothing more we can do other than stop the problem before they cause any further harm. I'm not denouncing that.

What I AM denouncing is the the narrative plant that's dug its way into the greater plot where an older Vlad in "The Ultimate Enemy", realized what a fool he had been. What he wouldn't give to start all over and be a better person. You don't just give someone a sympathetic goal like "looking for love", constantly provide the necessary stepping stones, and not have it set up for something far more substantial than what we got.

And even then, even if it still ended with Vlad being too far gone, I wonder, should the supposedly original plot arc for season three had been made, would Vlad's fate there been far more appropriate than whatever cartoonish supervillainy he ended up as by the time "Phantom Planet" ended?

I cannot speak for Gabriela Epstein. I cannot say how much Nickelodeon allowed her to tinker with the DP world. All of this is presumptuous speculation on my part, but this entire comic feels like they looked at season three, particularly "Phantom Planet", realized what a travesty that was, had their work cut out for it, and went about to make a post-series finale story that still paid tribute to its ending while wiping it off the map.

Vlad's redemption is the crux.

Within just a few panels, Gabriela Epstein provided an explanation on the why of Vlad's actions circa-season three. The Infi-Map was aimless because Vlad's purpose was aimless. And Vlad's purpose was aimless because his need to be in control was a manifestation of his greatest fear: being alone.

"A Glitch in Time" recontexualizes why Vlad traveled across time in "Infinite Realm." It wasn't a generic bad-guy-wants-to-rule-the-world-through-latest-plot-claptrap, but an act of utter desperation from a man who had since lost the biggest connection to his very being: Danny.

It started with Maddie (someone whom Vlad only interacts once in the comic, but is an acknowledgement of his villainous origin, nonetheless), and it may still end with Danny.

Never, in a million, billion years, have I even thought about another redemption arc... for Dark Danny.

And I am kicking myself for not even considering such an option. I had pegged him so far gone, so far past the breaking point to think otherwise. Dark Danny was suppose to be the outcome of a Danny at his literal worst: a too-late, too-little scenario. Back then, it was a symbol of Danny's rejection of what Vlad expected and desired of him.

But the comic made me sit down and think about the implication of Dark Danny's very existence, that of a man who lost his family and friends ten years ago as a child. Like Vlad, he, too was alone, and had carried a tremendous amount of pain and anguish that his human half just could not bear.

Yeah, they died because of a time loop HE created, but that doesn't erase that he was born from a horrible trauma that he could not properly cope with. And Vlad, try as he might, did not fix it. All he ended up doing was separate a ghost - infamous for their obsessions, and now, as the comic established, a carrier of human emotions - to exist. And Dark Danny carried so much raw emotion that he retaliated very, very violently.

Everyone's respond at that time was to fight him and stuff him in a Fenton Thermos for eternity. I am not saying Danny wasn't justified in fighting his darker self because the dude legitimately caused massive damage and likely murdered a hell of a lot of people, I am just saying Dark Danny is the byproduct of a scared, lonely, traumatized child.

And what does he do? He tries to take what he thinks is his by any means necessary. Vlad got his wish, he got the son he wanted.

And he's facing him now.

And he gets it.

He finally fucking GETS IT.

Which shouldn't have been a surprise because his "The Ultimate Enemy" counterpart got it. He looked at the devil that he created and lingered as a hermit in regret. And now Vlad - Vlad Prime - reacted the same.

Only this time, he can fix it.

I did not anticipate that Vlad's redemption would happen at the same time as Dark Danny's. I didn't expect the two of them to link other than the latter being another number in Vlad's bullshit entitlement count.

I love that it isn't Danny who heals him, but Vlad. It had to be Vlad. In order to own up to his actions, Vlad had to look at the eyes of the boy he was entrusted and corrupted beforehand and apologize for what he put him through. And I don't mean just "The Ultimate Enemy", Vlad is apologizing for everything he's done up to this point.

He (temporarily) sacrifices his body to stabilize Dark Danny who has fucked up the time stream so much that he wouldn't be able to exist otherwise. And only then do the two of them get what they've longed for.

Vlad gets a son.

Dark Danny gets a family.

Holy forking shirt balls.

I have a lot of problems with alternate counterparts sticking around longer than they should in the "main" setting of a show. Usually I'm fine when it's an alternate counterpart demonstrated as someone the hero is trying so hard not to be, because it's compelling to see what could have been under different circumstances. It's another thing when you have another version of the main character running around doing their own thing. Multiverse characters are inherently messy just by existing, but it gets worse when they take away from the uniqueness of the central protagonist.

There's something awkward about two Danny Phantoms living in the same world, and in any other scenario, I would have hated it. But Dark Danny is of a vastly different background brought forth from a long, nuanced, engaging history between him and Vlad.

Danny's central journey - the cusp of the show - has always been the Spider-Man mantra, "great powers = great responsibilities." You are in charge of how you carry the burden of your powers. Vlad has been the one constant always challenging and belittling his selflessness. "A Glitch in Time" had Danny asking himself, what is his purpose? Who is he now that everything has been neatly wrapped up?

Writing anything about who Danny is means Vlad is presented in some way, shape, or form. They are so thoroughly linked to each other, and it's that link that simultaneously serve to push their own individual character arc, and their relationship with each other.

So, Vlad gets a son. Dark Danny gets a family. They get a second chance, and it is up to them to work it out. I have no idea if Vlad got his wealth back. Everything is restored as is, except Danny's secret identity is secured again (which I am 100% fine with except for one notable exception, but that's another topic for another day) and implication that Vlad was just a crummy mayor with no indication the greater public is also aware of his Plasimus mode (which I am also fine with.)

There's a part of me who thinks he should have lost the money and power he's accumulated because he gained them through his vice, but if he's back in his Wisconsin cheese castle, then he can damn well use the money he has to not only benefit the world (charities, improving human lives, funding Fenton Works ;D...), but to raise his son.

Dark Danny is going to have to adjust to the idea that his father is Vlad, something he was already expected to do so when he orphaned himself and moved in with him. But it's Vlad who has to work the most out of the two: as a parental figure - as an adult - he's always had a power over Danny regardless of what timeline they're in. Most of the time, he's abused it heavily.

The second chance Vlad has been given here means he has the ability to provide a safe, healthy environment. It's more than he deserves. He failed with Danny and he absolutely failed with Dani (another can of worms in itself; she's not mentioned in the comic, and I imagine it's because her story would need a comic of her own), he cannot fail with this Danny.

Vlad shouldn't have been given a child at all until there was a guarantee that he could work through his bullshit, but Dark Danny is a special case. He is a kid who needs a home and someone to love him unconditionally, and Vlad needs to learn boundaries while giving selfless love in order to be loved himself.

Clockwork gave Vlad a test, so get studying, dude.

This does not erase how Danny Prime feels about him. He may never want to forgive Vlad, and that's his right. He can acknowledge however, that, in order to help those in need of healing, a door can be opened, even if slightly ajar.

For Vlad, that may just take a bit longer and that's completely understandable.

Vlad can't have the kind of relationship he wants with this Danny, but maybe one day, they can be equals - friends.

Like christ, I think this is the first time Vlad has actually, genuinely asked if Danny was alright.

The comic was already good prior to this, but just knowing - understanding that Vlad was more than "a villain" - meant after fifteen looooong years, we finally see the promises of a brighter future for a man with shitty priorities, but a sympathetic goal.

"It's over, isn't it? It's over, isn't it? It's over, isn't it..."

#danny phantom #vlad masters #neoyi talks #comics #a glitch in time #a glitch in time spoilers #yeah this one im tagging #this essay is over a 1000 words it's pathetic

[lucifers-rubber-duck]

hazbin crew with a reader that died in modern times and like somehow a song from modern times starts playing (idk fanfic magic 🤷‍♀️) but it's like cpr or wap or something and reader just knows every word to it. idk if you would consider this nsfw cuz i just consider it like kinda crackfic type energy but if you don't then just delete this lol

Characters: Charlie, Vaggie, Alastor, Husker, Angel & Lucifer.

Warnings: None I guess.

A/N: I think it's funny, lmao, I cannot take any song with sexual lyrics seriously. Thanks for the ask anon.

𖤓Charlie

• Charlie may be thousands of years old, but she knows how to catch up with new times, slangs and trends.

• She's not very used with songs of the human realm tho, most songs that they have in Hell were made right there. But there are some occasions were a Succubus will record their own cover of a human song since they can travel there and back.

• So when the voice of Verosika Mayday starts singing CPR on your headphones, you can't not sing along, the main reason you started listening to her is because she does these covers. You don't even try to sing quietly, you're just going all out.

• Charlie doesn't know how to react well to sexual situations, be it a sudden porn commercial with Angel that decided to pass on the TV, random posters with nudity on the streets or even songs. So when you hear you sing explicit lyrics she does panic a little.

• She would politely ask you to lower down your voice, she wouldn't forbid you from listening to your music, especially if it is something that reminds you of earth, but she does want you to be a little more quiet with those suggestive words.

𖤓Vaggie

• If she heard you singing anything like that she would first give you a harsh look and cross her arms from the other side of the room, she does not enjoy how explicit you're being but Charlie said to not cause problems with the other members of the hotel.

• The second time she listens to you sing like that she snaps and grabs your phone away from you, scolding your and saying that if you want to stay in the hotel you'll have to behave and that those songs are against what the hotel stands for.

• She's very passionate on making Charlie's dream come true and will try to do anything in her power to ban stuff that resembles sin from the hotel, she already couldn't get rid of the bar, at least she can put a stop to vulgar songs. That causes some minor conflicts between you both.

• And don't even try to explain that it is a song from your period of time and that is just fine from where you came from on earth, she'll not listen and still say you can't listen or sing to those songs anymore. You resort to only listening to them in your room.

𖤓Alastor

• I think it's no surprise that Alastor dislikes anything that resembles modernity, he hates the annoying picture boxes, the noisy rectangles that people carry around, and of course, he hates the newer songs as well.

• When he hears you sing any song that has sexual connotation he rolls his eyes in annoyance and lowers his deer ears, he gives you a death stare and makes sure to show he's annoyed. He doesn't get why you listen to that instead of classier music like jazz.

• He would first try to be the polite gentlemen that he is and gently ask you to turn the volume down, but if you keep doing it you can say goodbye to your phone, he's going to burn it or at least break it.

• He's a man that loves the old fashion and doesn't want frivolous modernity to ruin anything in his little theater of hopeless souls that is the hotel. You better never play those songs around him again or a broken phone will be the least of your problems.

𖤓Husker

• He already has to deal with Angel being his annoying self and always being vulgar with him, the moment he realizes he'll have to deal with you too he's going to try and ban you from the bar and tell you to stay a 5 meter radius away from him.

• He's just so done with everyone's bullshit, he doesn't care that it's a modern song and that reminds you of home or that some fancy Succubus is the one singing it; he's going to shoo you away from his sight of view.

•That only makes you want to annoy him more to be honest. You normally either team up with Angel to stress the shit out of him with a improvised karaoke at the bar or make Niffty get the song stuck in her head, she spends a lot of time around Husker and making her sing while she works close to him always makes him give you a death stare.

•Simply putting, there's now a banned sign with your face in the bar's wall and he gave Niffty permission to stab you if you stepped too close to it and now you have to say sorry to Husker if you want to ever have another drink.

𖤓Angel

• This man does not care in the slightest that you're singing a song with explicit words, in fact, I believe he actually knows the lyrics as well, he's the only one that listens to pop songs on a daily basis and is more used than anyone else at the hotel with more modern human songs.

• You two would be karaoke buddies, even if the karaoke is at your rooms in the hotel, or literally in the lobby. The moment a song he likes starts playing he'll pull you with his arms and start singing with you.

• You two mainly do that to annoy Husker at his bar, you two make a poor bartender deal with two drunk people singing something like CPR weekly. He doesn't trust you both on the bar on Fridays anymore.

• Songs are the way you both bond, he likes your vibes but when you two sing is the moment he knows he can just be himself without being judged or called a whore for a moment.

𖤓Lucifer

• He secretly listens to his songs. He has been alone for a long long time, he has listened to multiple types of music genres and heard everything, he just enjoys having music on the background while he does anything else.

• He's kind of surprised when he listens to you singing, Charlie told him you died very recently but he didn't imagine it was that recently. He thinks it's a good idea to try and start a conversation with you about you similar tastes in songs, that's how you make friends after all.

• After some practice on what to say and not just be a complete mess in front of you, he starts the conversation, you two actually get along pretty well, you're surprised someone as old as him listens to such recent songs and actually knows artists like Verosika.

• He's pretty chill about the lyrics, but will ask you to tone it down a little while singing to not disturb the other people at the hotel.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin lucifer #lucifer morningstar #charlie morningstar #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel x reader #lucifer x reader #angel dust #charlie hazbin hotel #charlie x reader #hazbin angel dust #angel dust x reader #husker x reader #husker hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #vaggie x reader #hazbin vaggie

[ilovehugslikealotalot]

One with Emily Prentiss I BEG.

Maybe one where Emily is a mission and keeps making promises to come home in time for Christmas. But on Christmas Eve r loses hope completely and just goes to bed crying because she really misses Emily and then in the morning Em has a much of gifts that she’s setting up in the living room, there’s breakfast and everything. maybe a quote like, “I promised I’d come home in time, didn’t I?”

idk this is my first time requesting

Love’s Silent Night

(Not my gif)

Emily Prentiss x fem!wife!reader

WARNING: 18+ MINORS WILL BE BLOCKED, slight angst, happy ending

Y/n sat in the living room watching the same christmas special for what seemed like the 50th time. Truly, all that she wanted to do is start a fire and curl up next to her wife and watch some christmas movies. But of course, work calls.

———————————————

“Em! Please! It’s literally almost Christmas and you’re leaving for another case?” Y/n exclaimed, crossing her arms clearly distraught, “I know, baby, I know. But-“

“-Duty calls, Yeah, I know, Em. Every year.”

Emily smiles sadly, knowing every year they had spent Christmas apart because of work. And it affected both of them, but this year it was different. The house felt emptier, the blankets seemed colder, and the bed didn’t seem as cozy. It was safe to say that this year wasn’t the best in terms of marriage and staying functional. “I’ll be home as soon as I can, love” Emily said, her face genuine, “And when will that be? January? Last year you came home in the middle of March. Not a single word from you for months..”

Emily’s face suddenly fell. She knew that it hurt y/n every year when this would happen. She also knew that their marriage suffered because of it. “I’ll be home for Christmas, that’s a promise.”

———————————————

Y/n checks the clock. It reads 9:53 as she still lays motionless on the plush couch. It was Christmas Eve, maybe y/n had gotten her hopes up too much. Every year this would happen, so why would this one be any different?

Lugging herself off of the couch she mindlessly threw herself into bed. The bright Christmas lights peaked through the window. It was sad, honestly. It really was. Y/n’s friends pitied her, ‘What’s the point of having a wife if she can’t even be home with you for a day?’

Y/n would brush them off, saying that Emily is trying her best. Which, sometimes Emily didn’t even know if that was true.

Taking a glance at her phone it lit up with a message, Y/n hopefully picks it up and reads it. Sadly, it was from JJ instead of Emily. The case is taking longer than expected! Sorry, n/n! See you soon?

Y/n smiled bitterly, of course, this would happen. She felt the last trace of hope leave her and her tears began to sting. There was that heaviness in her chest and her bed grew colder. In all honesty, y/n didn’t care about Emily coming home for Christmas. She just wanted her home, the sound of blowing wind lulled her to sleep. Letting the cold winter night consume her.

Soon enough, the smell of…hot chocolate? It had lingered in the air, y/n was she sure that she hadn’t made any. It also smelt of pancakes and…Emily’s perfume…

Leaping out of bed, the sleepiness leaving her, the faint sound of Christmas Jazz playing, y/n sprinted down the stairs with a hopeful feeling in her chest and her smile stretching from ear to ear. As she turned to look in the living room, she heard a familiar giggle. “Looking for me, love?” Emily smiled, teasingly holding up a mistletoe, her Santa hat had perfectly matched her plaid pjs and black sweatshirt. Y/n didn’t waste any time to dive straight into Emily’s arms and into a warm and longing kiss.

“I said I’ll be home for Christmas didn’t I?” Emily smirked, y/n rolled her eyes, “I’m just happy you’re home…safe”

#emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x female reader #screams #it’s christmas time #criminal minds #Christmas

[natailiatulls07]

Truth or Dare

Max Verstappen & female!driver!reader

Summary - Maybe it isn’t the best idea to do a redbull challenge right after a night out

Warning - Vomiting

Reader drives for redbull

-

"Good morning! I'm Y/n L/n and this is.." Gesturing to Max who was sat beside me to carry on.

"I'm Max Verstappen and we're here today to do the RedBull truth or dare challenge! Ladies first." I could see a cheeky smile making it's way onto his face. Reaching into the jar filled with truth or dare slips.

“Truth! Tell us how you feel about Max being your teammate” The smile growing on my face as I reminisced and thought through an answer. “Yeah I mean it’s great, we have a great bond between each other. I find that our bond is more older brother and younger sister so that is a definite help as it is my rookie year”

“Aww see that’s sweet…she won’t say anything sweet for the rest of this video now” we both laughed as Max was only speaking the truth.

“Right my turn now” Max reached into the bowl and pulled out a slip before reading over it. Unsatisfaction washing over his face. “Dare…show us your last text on your phone and then it’s says in brackets reasonable”

As he pulled out his phone, I sat beside him quietly laughing. “Let’s hope it’s nothing from Kelly…I don’t think I want to see that ew” My face held a familiar cheeky smile.

“So my last text was actually from Y/n!” I was surprised, but then I thought back to our text conversation from earlier, laughing lightly “I didn’t reply to this but Y/n sent me a text saying ‘hurry up, you’re late and I’m severely hung over’ as to which I cannot relate because I have a child to look after”

Looking down shamefully, everyone in the room was laughing including myself. It was true though, I went out clubbing last night and had yet to tell the crew. “Surprise!” Waving my hands in a jazz like manner.

Once again I moved my hand into the bowl after the laughing had died down. “Dare! Let the other teammate post one story to your instagram…”

Getting my phone out of my pocket, I handed it to Max who was excitedly waiting and plotting his story idea. After five minutes, my phone was headed back and that’s when I checked my instagram story.

yourusername has posted a story

Looking at the photo, I hadn’t realised that my friend had taken it. I couldn’t even remember throwing up, I was that drunk.

-

After a few more truths and dares, which also included many laughs, we had come to the end of the video.

“Thank you so much for watching us both expose ourselves and have a little fun” Max said towards the camera, before allowing myself to continue.

“Don’t forget to check out redbull’s other challenge videos, and we love you so much. Come on Max, say it with me!” Turning to look over at the older driver beside me.

“Byeee!”

“Bye everyone!”

Waving at the camera, whilst they started to cut the camera. Once we finished, both me and Max sat back before engaging into conversation.

“So what time did you get home last night?” Max asked, curiosity painted his face. Thinking back, I tried to recall exactly when my friend had said we returned home.

“Um I think about like two or three in the morning” At my answer, both me and Max were laughing at my crazy night out.

-

#formula one #formula one x reader #max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #red bull max #red bull f1 #redbull racing #red bull formula 1 #red bull team #christian horner #daniel ricciardo #sergio perez #sebastian vettel #charles leclerc #lando norris #carlos sainz #oscar piastri #alex albon

[thinkingaboutjaedyn]

Cute aggression with Elisa I FKN BEEEEEEGGGGGGGGG

SHE SOOO FKN CUUUUTE I JUST AGAHAHHXHFHDHDHEHRHRGCHFHDFGGFHFBFNFJHDDHHCBGTTDT

I love her way too much

can't help myself [e.de almeida x reader]

summary: elisa is always so cute you just have to show her that you love that about her in an overly aggressive way.

author notes: this is such a cute request! love you anon for this one. enjoy it y'all!

elisa is many things. a skilled footballer, a chaotic girlfriend, an absolute family person, and a cat mama. she is also the cutest thing you have ever seen and half of the time she doesn't even know it.

there are so many moments where elisa is just absentmindedly pouting about something or cuddling up to you two's black cat, lily. the times where she's too tired to function are the best. the pouting, groans of annoyance when you move away from her, and the "c'mon, stop, babe" when you start laughing at how irritated she looks. it's so adorable of her.

elisa is such a cutie and that makes you internally want to just bite her or squeeze her cheeks so hard she whines and pushes you away. the cute aggression when it comes to your girlfriend is unmatched.

the cute aggression towards elisa is always an all time high when she comes back from away games. from the moment you pick her up to her head hits the pillow she's adorable.

it's around eight am when paris saint germain make their way back to paris from a champions league match against roma with a win. you sit on the sorta uncomfortable seats in the airport near where the team should be coming out. a warm smile curls up your lips as you spot elisa coming out behind sakina. anyone could see how tired she was from a mile away. elisa smiles softly once she spots you. opening up her free arm, the other is pulling her suitcase, to pull you close as she reaches where you are sitting. she lets go out of her suitcase for a moment to wrap her arms fully around you and nuzzle her face into your neck. letting out a small sigh.

you chuckle as she says, "sometimes i wish the champions league didn't exist." the genuine annoyance in her words makes you laugh even more. "that's not true. you love playing in the champions league and traveling was one of your top reasons, so what changed now, miss de almeida?" you pull away from her grasp which makes her groan and frown at you. the sight was so cute you almost screamed, but held in it because public decency and all that jazz. "that was past elisa. current elisa is tired and about to pass out so can we go home already?" the footballer groans again as you pinch her cheek. you had to get that elisa-induced aggression out of your system somehow. "hm. i don't knoww. i wanted to talk to jackie and korbin for a minute or two before going," you say. smiling once you see the small eye roll your girlfriend does.

"babee," elisa pouts, "i'm serious. let's go home." you sigh out a small fine before grabbing onto her suitcase as she goes back to clinging onto you. she waves goodbye to her teammates still lingering around. knowing damn well at the next practice they were going to be teasing her relentlessly, but at the moment all elisa could think about was bed, you, and sleep. that's it, nothing else.

"c'mon, babygirl," you say playfully as you two come out of the airport and to your car. elisa lets out a sound of mock annoyance at the nickname. she hated it, but you always found a way to say it. usually she would give you a light hit on the shoulder, but was too tired to truly care about the petname so you are let off scotch free for now.

it takes a bit of time to get into the car with elisa refusing to let you go. groaning and pulling you closer every time you tried to get into the driver's seat. finally you sigh out of frustration and say, "what if someone who knows you see this, elisa? stop being a baby and get in the car so we can go home like you wanted."

your words make elisa sigh out dramatically before letting you go and going over to the passenger side. crossing her arms across her chest once she snaps on her seatbelt and gets all comfortable. "elisa, it is never that serious," you laugh as you slip into the driver's seat. snapping in your seatbelt before pulling off. the footballer just lets out a small hmph before turning away from you as best as she could and leaning her head against the window. elisa is fast asleep only five minutes into the ride.

her eyebrows are slightly furrowed as her lips are in a small pout. somehow her hair is still perfect as her face sits half against the glass of the window, half against the actual door. elisa's arms are still across her chest as she sleeps.

you nearly crash the car as you look over to see how adorable she's being. the strong urge to just pinch her cheek again almost gets you, but you rather not be under the wrath of an exhausted elisa, so you resist; for now.

when you two reach home, elisa is back on her clingy stuff. as you set her suitcase by the couch she refuses to let you go. almost making you both trip as you try to walk over to the kitchen to grab a juice. "oh my god, elisa.." you whine softly as you try to reach the fridge with all of elisa's weight on you. the woman is still half asleep so she hardly reacts. basically being like dead weight. "i love you i swear, but please let me go. you need to change anyways," you try to pull her arms from around your waist, but she puts that footballer strength to use even while half sleep. "elisa..i'm serious," she groans as she finally pulls away. turning to go towards the bedroom. a small hmph can be heard as elisa slips into the room.

you let out a sigh of relief as you can finally move freely. grabbing some juice for yourself and a water for elisa. you set them down on the counter as you go to look into the cabinets for some popcorn. a small movie marathon was promised by elisa when she would come back and now she's back, it's time for that. even though you knew she would just be sleeping throughout all of the movies you have planned.

just as you put the automatic popcorn bag into the microwave, a small groan fills the otherwise silence of the apartment. you look behind you to see a grumpy looking elisa. her arms are crossed across her chest as she pouts and gives you a small glare.

"we are supposed to be cuddling right now," the footballer mumbles. you just chuckle as you come over to her. the cuteness levels right now were so high, you couldn't help it as you go to pull her close. squeezing her so hard until she tries to pull away. "why are you trying to suffocate me, babee?" she whines as she tries to pull out of your grasp. you don't let her as you squeeze her again.

"you're just too cute right now," you say as you finally let her go. giving her ass a small squeeze before fully pulling away. elisa gives your arm a light slap as you move to go back over to the kitchen. "yeah, yeah, whatever. just hurry up," she pouts. turning around to go slip into you two's bedroom once again.

the sound of the popcorn finally slows as you come over to the microwave. stopping it and taking the popcorn out. you put it into a large bowl before going into the bedroom. ready to cuddle and snack while old nickelodeon movies play.

"already so cozy? without me?" you tease as elisa looks at you from the bed. she is tucked in and looking very comfortable. her eyes are basically closed as she looks at you. "shut up and hurry up," elisa mumbles. you just roll your eyes as you set the bowl of popcorn on the bed. elisa reaches her arm out to try and pull her onto the bed but you move back fast enough. "nuh uh. i have to change first," you chuckle as she lets out a small groan. "c'mon, babe, hurry.."

you roll your eyes at how she keeps rushing you, but still you slip into your pajamas as quick as possible before getting into bed beside her. the moment you're in the bed, elisa pulls you close and nuzzles her face into your neck. "finally.." she says softly as her arm goes to wrap around your waist. trying to pull you closer if that was even possible. you move slightly, which makes her groan out in annoyance, to grab the bowl of popcorn. setting it on top of you two before grabbing the remote that is on the other side of elisa's body.

once all settled, elisa slips back off to sleep. clinging to your body with a strong grip.

you end up falling asleep an hour later, in the middle of the hey arnold movie. the now empty bowl of popcorn is long forgotten. laying on the floor.

it's around one am when you wake back up, suddenly needing to pee. you try to pull out of elisa's grasp, but again that footballer strength is unmatched. "babe.." you say softly, still trying to pull away.

"no.. where are you going?" elisa murmurs, her eyebrows furrowed as her eyes stay closed. "bathroom," elisa just lets out a hmph of annoyance as you reply. still not allowing you to get out of bed. it's an adorable sight truly that makes your cuteness aggression so bad, but you still need to pee. one idea pops into your head that can help both of those problems.

you lean your head down a bit before biting down on elisa's cheek. "babe, what the fuck!" she shouts as loud as a half asleep person can. pushing you away enough that you end up falling off the bed. elisa sits up and leans over to look at you. "damn, elisa. it wasn't even that bad!" you say as you get up. "you bit me!" she reasons.

"and? you were like a koala and i had to use the bathroom, so it's your fault," you argue back. she just sticks the middle finger up at you before going back to laying in bed. "whatever. just hurry up," elisa says as hugs onto your pillow.

still so goddamn adorable.

#elisa de almeida #elisa de almeida x reader #woso x reader #woso fanfics #psg feminines

[dododan]

Thoughts about Alastor after the episode "Hello, Rosie"

Perhaps first such a small summary for those who haven't read my previous posts about Alastor.

Alastor's deal with someone has worked out. Officially we don't know with whom, but my theory is that it is Lilith.

Alastor is obliged by the contract probably to help/protect Charlie. His intentions are not clear, and he harbours many secrets.

He is not fond of Lucifer. Theories are that he either sees him as a threat to Charlie's hotel and dreams, or he is redirecting negative emotions about his own father and how Lucifer treated Charlie onto him.

Alastor enjoys being in the company of women and probably likes/appreciates Charlie. Perhaps he sees himself as her mentor.

His help, although chaotic and initially incomprehensible seems to be having an effect and actually helping the hotel and Charlie.

Alastor has a weakness for jazz and alcohol, but we don't see him ever drinking alcohol in the series.

His enemy is Vox, but he is more annoyed by Lucifer (probably because he is stronger than him).

Alastor doesn't like to lose or be wrong.

Here you have a link to previous thoughts if you are curious.

Alastor’s true motivations? - Why is he helping Charlie?

Dad beat Dad - Alastor, what the hell are you doing?

Traditionally, there are loads of spoilers here!

From the outset, Alastor seems interested/intrigued by Charlie sitting in the room and spinning another plan. Clearly he saw an opportunity in. Charlie was alone, so he could talk to her in peace. A plan was already forming in his head.

On Instagram, one girl made a fair analysis of Alastor's facial expressions. What expression on his face signifies what emotion. Which proved to be very helpful in understanding him! Here you have ig: @/sasha_draws.bg She did a really great job! But back to Alastor.

When Alastor feels some negative emotion, lines/wrinkles appear under his eyes. Which is true when you pay attention to the previous episodes, but in this 'Hello, Rosie' it is particularly noticeable.

For most of the time in this episode, Alastor seemed concerned to me.

When Alastor was talking to Charlie I had the impression that he was provoking her. He made Charlie painfully aware of how badly her plans had failed, which seems cruel. Initially this could be understood as simply an opportunity to take advantage of Charlie and make a deal, but I think this is just an added benefit. Alastor is bound by his contract to the hotel and Charlie, so he can't leave her. But Alastor has besides made Charlie realise that she can't idly brood on the bed because she doesn't have that luxury. Her friends were waiting for a plan, they were waiting for Charlie.

Charlie gave up at that point, and Alastor made her realise that there was still a chance to make things right somehow. He exasperated her, and showed her that she couldn't give up - in a rather cruel way but still, it's not always kind words or words of support that help you up.

Sometimes the painful realisation of the truth is the best motivator to undertake change.

For a moment, Alastor seemed annoyed that Charlie thought she had him figured out because she smiles all the time. He made her realise that the opposite is true.

A smile can be a weapon on many fronts. You could say that he gave Charlie some cue about his own behaviour. His lecture about smiling shows a lot about him.

Alastor hides a lot - his emotions, motivations or goals. He revealed to Charlie that he himself puts on a mask. The smile gives Alastor a sense of control.

The question is, isn't Alastor also lying to himself in this way?

He is creating himself as a cruel overlord, a person without a conscience who inflicts suffering on others for fun. It makes me wonder if he hasn't started to believe himself in the character he wants to pretend to be?

Nevertheless, no matter how good Alastor's goals may be attributed to him, or that his actions have a good effect on the hotel and Charlie, he still made a deal with her. He was aware that Charlie would not give up her soul to him and would not do anything against herself. Their deal is that Charlie is to help him like friend to friend when he needs it without hurting anyone, and he will give her information. Quite a specific arrangement and very narrow. To me their deal is a bit of a lifeline for Alastor when he finds himself trapped by his own contract.

[As an aside, I've noticed that a lot of people think that the stitches appearing on Alastor's lips are a sign that he can't talk about his deal. I doubt this because of the design of his character. Alastor was shown at many points to be dealing with voodoo or somehow connected to it. This is indicated by the green symbols that appear when he uses his powers, and the stitching that appears on his mouth probably refers to the very design of the voodoo dolls, which also had their mouths stitched in this way. Ironically in my opinion, voodoo is generally good magic, focusing on healing or helping, which doesn't really fit Alastor. Unless one considers the distinction between white and black magic as it is known in New Orleans. But I also point out that I'm not an expert, but I'm just partly familiar with the subject of voodoo and just wanted to show a reference to Alastor's appearance here].

I think Alastor's worry or uncertainty is most evident when he leads Charlie to Rossie. You can see the look on his face and those wrinkles under his eyes. This could be interpreted as:

he's upset that the angels are about to exterminate in the hotel and the only person who can oppose it is preoccupied with his love problems rather than more important matters.

He is upset/worried that he realises he won't be able to help Charlie this time, so he leads her to the only person who is more knowledgeable about love than him: Rossie.

He is nervous because he sees that he might fail if the hotel is destroyed, and that this might somehow breach his contract.

Alastor and Rossie seem to have a very intimate relationship, which was implied in the episode " Scrambled Eggs" when they were at the Overlords meeting. Now we have confirmation that they are very close friends. Rossie can afford a lot in Alastor's company and he allows her to do so. It also seemed to me that when he met Rossie he relaxed a bit, as the wrinkles under his eyes disappeared for a few scenes.

All in all, I'm not surprised that Alastor and Rossie are friends.

Rossie is the opposite of Alastor in a way. She seems transparent in her feelings and genuinely cares about her cannibals. But she also has the strength and power to allow herself to do so. Alastor, on the other hand, plays and hides emotions all the time, and gains power through fear. Despite this, he gets along very well with Rossie, which may mean he's not quite what he makes himself out to be.

I also think that Rossie's words about it being actions that show true nature and feelings may apply to Alastor and his role in season two in the future. But we can already see this now, for example, in the fact that his duet with Lucifer, where Alastor sang that he wanted to replace Charlie's father, ultimately led to a reconciliation between daughter and father which Alastor seemed to be happy with.

We also have it made clear that Alastor is asexual.

Rossie commented that Alastor could learn manners from Charlie. It is possible that what is meant is that when someone annoys Alastor, he does not mince his words. He makes his opinion clear - Susan is a perfect example of this.

Alastor and Rossie really seem close to each other, such as when they look at each other when Charlie panics, or how they dance with each other or their negativity towards Susan. Additionally, Alastor must have had a close business relationship with Rossie since she had an assignment for him and when she said that he never let her down. I got the impression that this gave him considerable satisfaction. Plus it helped the image he wanted to create for Charlie - that he was reliable.

Alastor also seems to put his faith in Charlie after all. Rather than believing in her plan of salvation for sinners, he believes more in the girl's ability to draw crowds and motivate people to action other than through fear or deals. It is hard to say whether he admires this trait of Charlie's, but he certainly appreciates her for it.

Alastor supported Charlie during her song when she had to convince the cannibals to fight - either by giving her the microphone or showing her a thumbs up. I further related that he was slightly worried/nervous, but also pleased after seeing his actions bear fruit.

Alastor also made it clear to Rossie that he valued Charlie and expected nothing less from her than to thrill the crowds. But the important thing is that he referred to her as the Princess of Hell, not Charlie. Alastor has made it clear for the first time that he wants to fulfil Charlie's potential, this shows that despite the faith he has in her, he still only sees her as the Princess of Hell and not Charlie as someone who is more than just a princess.

A break for now, as it's quite late at my place, so expect the rest of the analysis tomorrow, or the day after tomorrow at the furthest.

#dododanart #hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor #alastor the radio demon #radio demon #hazbin #hazbin hotel fanart #hazbin art #the radio demon #hazbin hotel art #alastor hazbin hotel #charlie morningstar #hazbin hotel charlie #hazbin charlie #hazbin characters #rosie hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel rosie #hazbin rosie #hazbin spoilers #hazbin hotel spoilers #spoilers hazbin hotel

[pupcuck]

BELL JARS AND BUTTERFLIES !

ft. infinite darkness!leon s. kennedy x fem!reader

tags. emotional abuse, mom-son incest, power dynamics, sub leon, some references to past physical abuse not explicit tho, few drug references, p in v

note. hai :3 put id leon cuz that’s who i saw but!!! u can think ab whoever u want :3 thank u to @devilmayfuck for proofreading oh my gosh :3 still ignore mistakes bc I tend to make em while formatting! feedback n rbs so appreciated <3

tumblr removes fics that, for example, use tw non-con and any nsfw tags in general from the tags. for this reason, as i’d like my fic to appear in the tags, please understand that this fic contains dark content under the cut. reading this comes at your own risk.

It’s no surprise that Leon breached contract and put his dick in his shrink. He tends to do these things around women that sound like school teachers. To be fair, the contract wasn’t his to breach, she’s totally taking advantage of his vulnerability or whatever.

“You still live with your mother, Leon?” It’s a statement, not a judgement, he takes offence either way.

“She’s sick,” Leon says, and it’s a bold-faced lie, they both know that she, his shrink, has his file. That you’re well and alive. He doesn’t like to talk about you to her. Mainly because what you have done to him is private, no one else needs to know, it’s the only thing no one knows about him— The only thing that’s not written across his dossier in bright red is that he and mommy have a less than sound relationship. It’s the only thing that is his.

“Sick?” She’s not much older than you, and she’s not as beautiful as you.

“Sick,” He confirms, and it’s not far from the truth. Physically sick, nah, but Mommy might be, she certainly is, the biggest narcissist Leon has encountered in all twenty-eight years of his shitty life, and that says something. ‘Cause Leon works with the US government. He’s owned by them, actually, to say he’s working would be a lie— He’s been owned all his life, first by mommy, then by work, and Leon has started to think it’s always going to be this way. That it’s okay because he doesn’t have to dissect, ache and hurt like he does when he’s thinking.

When she tries to probe further, as it is her job, her duty, in the same way it is Leon’s duty to save the world on any old Monday, he leaves. The apartment is his by lease, but Leon has never stayed long enough to call it a home, he’s never considered it anything more than where you are.

His fist knocks against the lacquered wood, and you answer a minute or so later. It doesn’t suit you. Trying to fit in with all the D.C career women, prim and polished and intelligent, that’s just not you. At your core, mommy is trailer trash through and through. Your smile is artificial, and your nightgown is too, it’s ill-fitting, the only thing you’ve worn well is his father’s anger. Leon thinks that if he wasn’t so full of the milk of compassion, whatever it is Lady Macbeth said, he would help you out. Show you what you’re truly worth. Unfortunately, all Leon would like, all he has ever wanted, is his mommy.

“Leon,” Your concern comes sparingly, so he takes what he can, head dropping to your shoulder. He melts. You’re about as friendly as a loaded gun, but Leon’s got suicidal tendencies and all that jazz. “Baby, what happened? You look so thin, my goodness, you must weigh less than me.” It’s true, looks like he weighs seventy pounds soaking wet. Skin stretched thin over his bones. Teetering from left to right on ankles so thin they’re ready to snap. “What’s this? Looks expensive.” Your eyes sparkle as you take in his appearance, tracing the fabric of his Armani tie with tenderness you have never given to him.

“Ma,” Leon mumbles into your neck, he stumbles past the threshold and the door clicks shut behind him. All he wants is a kiss or two.

“Leon,” You say his name the way you did before, “That’s not my name, darling, you used to be such a good boy.”

“Mommy,” He corrects himself, it’s always been mommy and no one else, “I’m sorry for— I’m sorry for leaving.”

“It’s not your fault, baby,” Whether he comes or goes, you don’t care, your flippant nature drives him insane. “You’re too much like your father.”

He is not. If Leon was anything like that man, more scum than blood and flesh and bones, your face would be in the concrete. But Leon is your son, and he is who you’ve made him to be. Cowardly. “I’m sorry,” The words dry up in his mouth when your nails rake down his clothed chest, a soft whine slips from the base of his throat, like he’s a dog. Then you scratch behind his ear, and he really is a dog, tail between his legs and everything.

“Oh, my poor baby,” Mommy says, and you pout at him— Did you get your lips done? The money wired over to your account is for necessities. He’s a civil servant, there's nothing classy about that. You piss him off. You do. But you’re his mommy, and he loves you.

The bed smells like you, it was his once, but you take over every aspect of his life. Eat away at any part of him that isn’t appropriate by your terms, a vetting process harsher than the DSO’s. Now Leon’s here, faced with the same hole he crawled out of. The same hole he wishes to crawl back inside. It was safe in there. Warm and quiet. Darkness cradling him like you never have. The one place in which he cannot move, speak or be. The closet he can get to that is stuffing his dick inside.

“Outside clothes on my bed,” You tut, lifting back the covers so you can undress him, “What’s this?” In your hand is an orange tube that you’ve swiped from his back pocket. Leon blinks as you squint at the label. “Oh, darling, you don’t need these, let mommy keep them safe, alright?” Leon nods. That was a new prescription, paroextine, fluoxetine made him a smidge less suicidal, meaning instead of wanting to drive his car off the side of a bridge anytime he got in, he simply drove without a seatbelt in hopes of being crushed to death by a thirty-two tonne truck. Natural selection or whatever. Side effects were shakes, to the point where Sherry was worried he went and got himself put down in the Guinness World Records Book as the youngest recorded case of Parkinson’s disease.

“I need those, ma,” His voice breaks when you tuck them into your bedside cabinet, facing him with your beautiful, cruel smile.

“You don’t need them, Leon,” You gesture for him to come closer, he does, presses his face into your tits, and lets you tell him what’s right and wrong. When it’s coming from you it will always be wrong, but he’ll listen anyway. “It’s not real, baby, you know that, don’t you? I thought you were smarter than this— Shouldn’t be wasting all your money on therapy of all things, I mean, you go to talk for an hour and that supposedly makes everything better?”

“Mm,” Leon makes a noise that is both a grunt and a hum. Please, for the love of god, shut up and get him off— Do something. Hold him. Comfort him. You’re his mother.

“Then they want you to take all these pills-“

“They’re meds, ma,” He corrects for the sake of his— Well, for the sake of nothing at all. Not his ego, not his dignity, they have been depleted completely.

“Meds, huh? You can get addicted fast, and then next minute you know, darling, you won’t be able to function without them- You’ll be like a zombie.” You kiss the top of his head, cooing softly when he raises his head to look up at you like the sad, wet dog he is.

“It’s not crack, ma.”

I know you wish it was.

For an indolent lady who spent half her time doped up on what could only be described as sludge, putting morphine in his milk bottle, you do talk a lot of shit.

“Hah,” Your face changes, you laugh anyway, “You’re so funny, Leon.” You tell him, and he thinks, obsessively, that he would do anything to hear that laugh again.

“Thanks, ma,” Leon’s unrest is mollified by the featherlight touch of your hand on his bare chest, your nail drags down his sternum, as if you’re splitting him in half. It digs into the toughness of his abdomen, he squirms, “That feels weird,” He mumbles, unable to voice out his dislike properly.

“Leon,” You sigh heavily, heavier than his cock in his briefs, “You don’t feel anything, my sweet thing, you’re all empty inside.” He’s a bell jar waiting for its butterfly.

“My poor baby, look at you, can’t do anything without mommy.” Without mommy Leon doesn’t know how to be a real person.

“Can’t eat,” You trace his ribs, sticking out in odd angles through a yellowed layer of skin, “Can’t sleep,” The hollows of his face, his sunken eyes, they tell you everything, “Can’t even breathe without me, can you Leon?” Without mommy he has to be kicked in the gut so his lungs remember what it’s like to breathe. He has to constantly be on the verge of death to know what it’s like to live. “It’s so tiring, darling, I’m too old to be taking care of you.”

“Mommy,” Leon pleads, helplessly, the only manner in which he can behave is helpless.

“Baby,” You toy with his waistband, “You need mommy to help you feel, don’t you?” Feeling should be innate to a human being, shouldn’t it? “Even when you were a baby, Leon, you only cried when mommy did, I used to think it was sweet, but now, darling, it’s gotten a little old.”

Leon whines softly, animal-like, caught by the ankle like a hunted stag, “I’m sorry, mommy— I can’t help it.”

“Oh, it can’t be helped, Leon,” Mommy says impassively, because it is such a chore to jerk off your mentally stunted almost thirty-year-old son. It’s not his fault. He didn’t choose to be this sex-mongering freak that needs to be punished to get off, to not feel ill— To be alive. You started it, and Leon’s sure you’ll end it. Brought him into this world, and you’ll take him right back out of it. At the drop of a hat too.

Your nail, red and glossy and a tad too sharp, presses into his leaking slit. One hand curled around his jaw, the other down his pants. You fish his cock from his boxers, “Mommy was waiting for you,” That makes his chest ache, knowing that he had crossed your mind even once for just a split second, god, he could die a happy man, “Every time you leave I get so worried, I start thinking, well, gosh, how is my Leon doing without his mommy?”

Bad. He does bad in general. Around you it’s bad. He is entirely bad at all times, at every minute, every passing second. With you it’s less bad.

“I just miss you,” Leon says, helplessly beyond help.

“All the time?”

“All the time,” He agrees.

“Oh, baby,” You coo.

“Do you… Did you miss me?” He asks, breathless, twisting in your grip like he’s fitting. Your touch is a million pinpricks on exposed nerves. There's no answer, you just stroke his dick instead, and his moan shatters like an ice fractal. Leon wants to ask and beg and demand— He turns stupid too quick when you cup his balls, squeeze ‘em hard.

“So noisy,” Mommy spits on her palm, real classy, a bit of your whore heritage comes out— See that, it’s a real Kennedy move, dad would be proud. Then you get his cock nice and wet, pumping his shaft as he leaks through the gaps in your fingers. “My sweet boy, you used to be so cute. I miss when you were blonde— It happened to your dad too, it’s a shame.”

“Sorry,” Leon says as if it is his fault natural progression took place, his hips bucking upwards into your fist, schlick, schlick, schlick.

“Well, there’s no need to be sorry about it, you can’t do anything about it, Leon,” Well, at least you’re sane enough to know that, “You know what you can do, darling?”

He shakes his head, abs contracting, balls tightening, ready to blow—

“Clean up before you come to see me,” Your hand is gone, his dick twitches like there’s a parasite inside of it waiting to burst out, “I’m not stupid, Leon,” Your palm sits on his cheek, looking at his stubble with distaste, “And you should shave, look too much like your dad otherwise.”

The scruff is purely out of neglect for his appearance. Leon has never put much thought into it, no one’s ever complained, he’s fuckable. Very fuckable. So fuckable— It’s just you. Mommy says and Leon scrambles to do.

“Off you go then,” You shoo him away, force him to pick his discarded clothes off the floor, he tosses them in the laundry basket. His shrink left the print of her brown foundation on his collar— That’s what you meant by clean up.

In the bathroom cabinet he finds a packaged razor covered in a film of dust. His hand is shaking, nicks his chin once, the sting is not half as bad as your touch. When Leon returns, the nightgown is off, folded neatly on the side, he almost trips over getting to you.

“Mommy,” Leon mumbles around a mouthful of tit, like a proper stupid baby, dumbed-down to fit mommy’s taste.

“I know, baby,” You kiss the crown of his head, stroking over until your fingers toy with the hair at the nape of his neck, “Oh, there is just nothing inside of you but that big ol’ heart, huh?” It’s true. He’s empty but his heart. A heart that turns on its hind legs, rolling over onto its back for mommy and mommy only.

Leon hums, suckling on your nipple like he’s going to get milk out of it. “Can I—“ Leon lifts his head, ducks back down to avoid your scathing gaze.

“Can you what, baby?” You thumb his bottom lip, nail grazing his teeth.

“I want to fuck you,” He says, because he would like to fuck you.

“That’s not how you talk to mommy,” You go to push him off, but Leon shakes his head, and he is stronger— He is, he pins you down, presses his face into your neck. An apology that you accept.

“I’m sorry, mommy,” He’s trembling, “I’m sorry… I’m sorry, didn’t mean to talk like that— I’m sorry, please, can we-“

“Fine,” You cut in, and he knows that mommy is a slut. More so than him. That you want it just as bad, you just like playing games.

Leon’s lips part when the tip of his fat cock sinks into your heat. He wishes that your hole would gape like the maw of a beast and swallow him up David Cronenberg style. Wouldn’t that be so fun?

There’s a falter in your breath when he bottoms out with a squelch. You try to be this way, so unaffected, but Leon knows that you’re a glutton for cock. Not his alone, which crushes him, any old dick would do for his mom. It’s how she got by way back when.

“I love you,” Leon moans into your mouth when let him kiss you for the first time tonight, he savours it, lets the taste linger, “I love you, mommy.”

You loop your arms around his neck, pull him closer so his cock is deeper, hitting your cervix with the fat head. The most he can do in your grip is move his hips back and forth shallowly, never allowing more than an inch out of your sweet cunt. It’s suffocating and yet he loves it. Your love is a cage. Contains him. Leon licks the droplet of salty sweat that trickles down between your tits, he spurs his hips forward, fucks you with all that he’s got— This is all he’s good for, just good to give you your fill of dick. That’s why you had a son.

“You can do it better than that, Leon,” You’re panting, eyes glassy as you smile your gorgeous smile at him, “I know you can.”

With a grunt, he fucks you with fervour, balls slapping against your ass, all the nasty shit you love. His dick jumps inside of you, and you gasp, biting down on your tongue as he slams into you once, twice, thrice— Oh, it's so over. Leon can’t help it. Mommy’s pussy is so warm, so hot and wet and tight. Your disappointment is tangible. No need to hide it.

We can work on that, his shrink usually says to mask her annoyance at his premature ejaculation.

Mommy just shakes her head while frowning.

“I’m sorry, mommy,” Leon’s body jolts, hips still moving despite the oversensitivity, his cum makes your cunt sloppier. He fucks it back into you like the filthy boy— man he is, so set on making you come undone that it comes across as a little freakish. Like he’s in a trance or some shit. “I’m so- I’m so sorry, mommy— Didn’t mean to— Fuck, I’m sorry, sorry—“

“Leon, stop that,” You place a hand on his chest. He stops. Leon is good at that. Taking instruction no matter how life-threatening, no matter how embarrassing, he’ll do it to be worth something.

“I’m so sorry,” He croaks, truly humiliated by his dick’s lack of selflessness. Shit just cums without Leon telling it to do so.

Mommy pats his head, “It’s okay, baby, you’re only a stupid little boy, aren’t you?”

Leon nods. Mhm. Mhm. Yup. Yup. That he is. Mommy’s stupidly depraved little boy. Just makes sense.

God, yes. “Yes, mommy,” Leon finds himself face to face with your cunt. One that popped him out. A well-beaten yet pretty pussy, because all of you, to Leon, is beautiful no matter how worn out. He parts your cushioned lips, teeth tugging at your labia as he dribbles his spit over your fat pussy. His cum sticks to your inner-thighs, a shiny trail that dries up before he can lick it up and spit it back onto your puffy cunt.

Your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling at his hair till he’s sure the roots have weakened and now he’s even more prone to male pattern baldness than he was before. Leon focuses his attention on your clit, it’s small and fleshy on the tip of his tongue, the more he sucks the more you drip drop and fill his mouth with your slick. Crazy that is. The clit. It’s just a gift that keeps on giving. And it's good both ways. Leon gets to quell that urge, the sucking on a tit urge, and mommy cums so hard her thighs snaps shut around his head. Your back bows off the bed, and god dammit is he proud.

With the lower half of his face covered in your wetness, Leon re-emerges to kiss you. “That’s enough, darling,” You tell him after the fifth and final kiss. He holds onto it. He just wants you, his mommy. Is it so bad to want?

“I love you, mommy,” Leon says for what might be the third or hundredth time of the night.

“I know, darling,” Your nose bumps his, “I did miss you, Leon, if I’m being honest.”

“Really, mommy?” His heart skips a beat or two. God, it might’ve fucking stopped. Then he’d just be a doll of some sort. The rarest collectors doll that mommy could put in a glass case and show off and dust off— Well, to think she’d care enough to dust him off, Leon has a bit of an overactive imagination.

“Really, darling.” Mommy nods, and he’ll take it. He’ll take it and treasure it.

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