Tumgik
#tw ghost mention
snowe-zolynn-rogers · 11 hours
Text
Pairings: None
Word Count: 1,794 Words
Summary: The solar eclipse after Solar's death has an energy to it.
Warnings: Character Death, Caps, Cursing, Overworking, Self-Hatred (from Moon, of course), Sleep Deprivation, Blood (minor), Minor Injury, Ghost, Magic, Mind Meld, Soul Bond, Sharing A Body/Brain, Pain, Nausea, let me know if I should add anything else.
Binding And Bonding
Solar woke up in an abyss. Everything around him was darkness. He could see a vague ring of light around him, lighting up the rest of his surroundings decently well. He could vaguely hear something being said into the void around him in a vaguely familiar voice but he was knocked out before he could acknowledge the voice.
-Two And A Half Weeks Earlier-
"I don't wanna go…" Solar muttered, body deteriorating and slowly disintegrating as it collapsed to the floor like his dimension likely was. Moon was quick to grab him and try to keep him steady but it wasn't any use given he couldn't feel his legs anymore.
"You don't have to!" Moon insisted, holding Solar as close as he could, Solar feeling Moon's hands slip through him as he could feel himself fading into an abyss.
"Solar? SOLAR!" Solar could vaguely hear Moon screaming as he went into a void.
-A Week Later-
"Moon, you're pushing yourself. You aren't charging or resting." Eclipse finally broke and snapped at him.
"Maybe I would if I hadn't fucked everything up!" Moon screamed back at him, too stressed to not scream at the inconveniences anymore, too focused on getting Solar back now.
"Moon, you're at a max of five percent." Eclipse reminded him.
"I'll charge when my brother is back." Moon growled venomously, eyes turning to glare that Eclipse dare interrupt him but Eclipse had gotten used to Moon being like this fairly quickly. Eclipse knew Moon would inevitably run himself down and then Eclipse could carry Moon off to bed.
Thankfully, Eclipse got that opportunity sooner rather than later as Moon stumbled and his hand hit a tray, knocking it to the floor with Moon collapsing to the floor as well a few seconds later.
Eclipse went and finally was able to scoop the poor sap up and groan at how heavy Moon was, muttering complaints about how much Moon weighed as he kicked the door to Parts & Service open for him since he was busy carrying Moon.
"You." Ruin caught Eclipse's attention before Eclipse was able to leave.
"Yeah, what about me? Want me to come in there and kill you finally?" Eclipse asked.
"No, actually. I would like you to forget Protocol 87.775.2, actually." Ruin told him and Eclipse tilted his head in question, not really knowing what Ruin was talking about.
"Forget about what?" Eclipse asked.
"Exactly! Good job! Thank you! Be on your way now!" Ruin cheerily told him and Eclipse shook his head and carried Moon up to the daycare and through the portal to the house, sighing seeing Sun's cats practically waiting for Moon, though they hissed as if they hated him anyway, but Eclipse knew the little cretins were pretending they hated Moon.
Eclipse laid Moon on the couch and put a blanket over him for the cats to crawl on top of and purr now that they knew Moon was sleeping. Eclipse chuckled at the little gremlins. They sure loved their uncle, they were purring on his unconscious body.
Eclipse plugged Moon's charging wire into the wall outlet near the couch and left to go figure out what the hell Ruin was talking about, landing at the daycare computer inevitably. It seemed the computer knew everything anyway so he may as well try.
"Nice attempt, but you are not a member of the Celestial Family." The computer told him.
"Nice joke, I actually am. But I came for answers." Eclipse told the machine.
"Whyever would I give you answers?" The computer asked.
"Ruin mentioned a protocol in me, basically asking me to delete it but I don't know what he was talking about. I will let you scan my code if you look for Protocol 87.775.2." Eclipse told the computer.
"…I will agree to these conditions, only because it may serve well for Moon." The computer agreed. Eclipse plugged himself into the computer for it to scan him and just sat back waiting, all he could do was wait. The computer was doing two things at once and it was taking a while.
Eclipse ended up falling asleep for a bit in the computer chair while the computer did its thing. However, the computer also decided to be an alarm for Eclipse as it woke him up with a loud bussing noise through his circuits.
"HEY!" Eclipse jolted awake, pulling out the cord and thoroughly startled by the computer.
"Ah, good, awake. I have found Protocol 87.775.2 as well as scanned your code." The computer told him.
"And you wake me up like your about to try giving me a controlled shock?" Eclipse snapped.
"Yes, I found it amusing." The computer would've laughed if it could, Eclipse could tell.
"Fine, what is the protocol about?" Eclipse asked.
"This protocol entails a means to what Moon has been working on. A way to undo what has been done." Eclipse scoffed at that.
"So that's why he wanted me to get rid of it. I haven't been alone in a room so he couldn't give me an order to try to get me to delete it until today." Eclipse muttered.
"Unfortunately, it is extremely difficult as it works with the essence of an energy." The computer told him.
"Tell me what I have to do."
-One Week & Four Days Later-
Eclipse walked into the room Solar had died in. He had finally made good on getting everything else ready and Sun and Moon were out with Earth and Lunar, watching the solar eclipse on the roof of the PizzaPlex.
Eclipse had chalk, blood, and a dagger. He hated this, it felt so weird. It felt so awkward to probably be the first person Solar sees when he comes back.
"Solar?" Eclipse calls to whatever remained of Solar's energy, which he had attuned himself to over the last week and a half.
"Solar." Eclipse called to Solar again, sitting down in front of where Solar died. He could feel the energy around him swirling as though Solar was trying to tell him he was there still.
"There you are." Eclipse closed his eyes, holding the chalk and drew a circle of runes with his eyes closed, following the images of runes the protocol was feeding him on the back of his eyelids. The circle was around Eclipse himself and the spot Solar died in, interlocking them.
"Solar, I can feel you. God that sounds weird." Eclipse muttered the last half. The energy jolted like it was laughing at him. "Yeah, laugh it up, idiot. Sit with me." Eclipse sighed. He could vaguely see the outline of Solar's energy sit with him.
"Thank you." Eclipse muttered, knowing he had to thank Solar. He hated that he had to. Eclipse cringed as he poured the blood on the inner ring of the rune circle, watching outside as the sky began to go dark.
"I willingly open this connection for Solar." Eclipse stated as the protocol had, cutting open his right hand with the dagger in his left dominant hand. Eclipse could see that the whisp in his vision that was Solar's energy was interested.
"Hold my hand, Solar and only Solar." Eclipse told the energy. The energy seemed to hold his hand and Eclipse sighed at the feeling, relieved Solar was just listening to him, probably out of curiosity rather than genuine willingness.
"I connect what is mine to what is yours. Wire for wire, energy for energy. I share willingly what is mine with you." Eclipse spoke evenly, making sure to read word for word.
"This day is a connection." Eclipse felt the rune light up with light, blazing as the room went completely dark. "I bind us. Mine is yours. under this light, we become connected." Eclipse lost his breath after these words of the spell, making him choke a bit as he could feel Solar's energy binding to his own, coughing to get air as he could feel his mind breaking in half, body feeling aches and pains as Solar's energy was bonding to him.
Eclipse lurched forward, nauseous as he felt Solar's AI blooming into his head, using the broken-off half of Eclipse's mind, their mind? Eclipse didn't know but he was nauseous. Animatronics weren't supposed to get nauseous. He leaned with his hands on the ground, hearing someone screaming. Was that him? Was he screaming? He still had to say the final words and get Solar to say them too.
Eclipse reached his energy into his mind, making Solar take half control with him, each having control of one half of their? body. Eclipse fed the final words into their vision to make Solar say it with him. Once Solar nodded using their head Eclipse nodded back.
"We claim the energy of the solar eclipse given to us." Both of their voices echoed and the pitch-black void of the room glowed with a peace around them, the white ring around them calmly pulsing with their energies. Eclipse finally felt a peace now as he curled up on the ground, trembling with everything that had happened, too overwhelmed to move but he had to finish it. He had to finish this. He fed to Solar in their optics the final step and words.
Solar was the one to drag their body upright again. Eclipse was shivering, Solar was shivering. The room felt cold. Everything felt cold. Solar seemed to have more force than Eclipse, Solar was learning how to share their energy.
"We undo the damage that has been done through false trust." They made sure to echo each other and Eclipse felt a bloom in his chest of the energy they claimed from the solar eclipse above in the sky still, the ring around them, practically burst into a running visual of universes coming back into being, rebuilding themselves, lives being brought back immediately, everything blooming around them in the circle of light like flowers.
Eclipse gave a soft, exhausted chuckle seeing it and seeing the sky begin to get light again. Once the ring around them finished, the warm feeling slowly dissipated and Eclipse and Solar simply collapsed onto the ground, shaking and taking deep breaths.
"Thank you." Solar whispered.
"I know." Eclipse tried to laugh but all that came out was a wheeze.
"Are you okay?" Solar asked.
"I'm exhausted." Eclipse whispered back.
"Well, you gave up your magic to bring everything back, you're probably going to be exhausted for a while." Solar sighed.
"I expect Moon to thank me, you tell him that if you wake up first." Eclipse told Solar before letting himself ease into unconsciousness, giving Solar control for a brief moment before Solar fell asleep too from being brought back and losing a lot of energy himself.
39 notes · View notes
malafvma · 2 years
Note
Hey! So I’m sending this to a multiple rpts/rphs to get their opinion but do you think Ana De Armas should be banned/cancelled after all the backlash her film Blonde is receiving? The film depicts graphic instances of SA, DV and is basically a r*** fantasy film based on a book of the reimagined life of Marilyn Monroe, which Ana plays in the film. She has stated that Marilyn herself would be happy with the film and has made really odd comments about Marilyn’s ghost as well.
hi there anon! i don't think it is up to me who should be canceled/banned from being used as a fc on this site. however, i will say that i am not a fan of ana de armas in general for reasons outside of her current portrayal of marilyn. i haven't seen blonde or heard any of the issues surrounding it apart from issues with ana being cast regarding her thick accent. if what you say about the film is true and she is basking in all of this praise for it, then i certainly think it speaks volumes about her character. i also find it pretty disrespectful of her to talk about marilyn as if she knew her herself, or make comments about her "ghost." that is just my take on the situation, but if it were up to me i would consider using someone else in her place fc wise.
4 notes · View notes
halcyone-of-the-sea · 5 months
Note
Hi, I just found your blog, and I love your Simon's fics! I was wondering if i could please request something where Reader and Simon had broken up bc he thought he put her in danger. After a few months, he comes to her after a mission and they spend the night but he leaves before she wakes up thinking hes doing whats best (and all that angsty jazz 🥲🤭) . A few weeks after she finds out shes pregnant and decides to take on her own, as reader thinks simon wouldnt care. But maybe one of the guys see her heavy preggo and tell simon, and hes fuming and super protective mode is on.
Sorry if it is too specific and for the terrible english. I just have this idea, and i dont think i can picture it right. Anyway, thanks for reading this and for your good work on your fics 💗 hope you have a lovely day
—Digging Gaze
Tumblr media
⇢ ˗ˏˋ 5k Drabble Masterlist ࿐ྂ
╰┈➤ ❝ [You indulge in a one-night-stand after you'd both called it quits, only, it leads to more problems. When he sees you again, how will he react to the swelling of your stomach?] ❞
Tumblr media
You knew it was the effects of a less-than-gentle breakup, but you should have at least cursed him out before you let him have his way with you on the living room couch. You’d woken up back in bed, alone, and had gotten dropped back to where you had been weeks earlier—stuck in the throws of confusion and hurt. 
Simon had left you, and he never gave you a reason. 
A part of you was heated; pissed off and feeling betrayed by the insult, yet, the rest of you knew that Simon needed to have his reasons—he always did. Even if you didn’t agree with them, and you knew he tended to look at life with a glass-half-empty type of glance. 
So that left you here. 
You were pregnant. 
You’d found out two weeks after you’d slept together for that last time, your cheeks still hot from the memory and your fingers clutching the plastic of a test. 
Pregnant.
It had been a shock, a deep panic. The both of you had been reckless. Stupid. And while you had stared at those two pink lines, you felt a sinking in your gut akin to a drowning ship. Should you tell him? It would be proper, of course. 
But you don’t think you can face him again after you’d awaken to an empty bed—as if your entire relationship had only been about sex and not the deep nights of confessions and soft brushes of skin. You knew Simon Riley better than he probably knew himself.
And you wouldn’t put this on him.
At seven months, you couldn’t walk as much as you could before—and you would huff for breath as you went up the stairs to change the sheets—but who else could do it but you? Shopping also fell to you, and so, you pushed a large cart around and packed the metal basket with cravings and necessities. That was when you fell to a familiar face. 
“Johnny?” You ask, blinking. 
The Scot pauses, turning. His brows furrowed for a moment before a kind smile peeled his lips back.
“Hen!” He comes closer, laughing. “Well, I haven’t seen you in a good minute, then. What have you been up to in all—” 
The man freezes at the sight of your stomach, jaw going slack as you fight an internal war with yourself to say pleasantries and leave. 
“Hell,” Johnny clears his throat. “I guess you’ve been doin’ a great deal.” 
You sigh, shaking your head softly. “Thanks, Johnny.”
“I’m just joking, Little Lady.” The man laughs and waves a hand. “Who’s the lucky man then? I’ll have to meet him one of these days.”
Your face blanks and your lips snap shut in an instant. 
Blue eyes wait for an answer as the silence laps over itself. Slowly but surely, the realization dawns on his face in a tight pull of horror.
“You can’t tell him,” you interrupt his tight gasp. “Not a peep, MacTavish, you hear?”
“What the fuck,” he breathes at you, hand coming up to his mouth as he glances down at your swelling bump. “Holy hell.”
“Johnny,” you snap, his eyes jerk back to you. 
“It’s bloody Ghost’s—”
“You can’t,” you growl, coming closer, “tell him.”
“What do you mean I can’t tell him,” Johnny hisses under his breath, looking at the people passing by and lowering his tone. “You’re pregnant and he doesn’t know!”
“That’s the point,” you ease out, exasperated and feeling drained already. Jesus, you needed to go lay down—your back was killing you. “Johnny,” you breathe, growing softer as you reach out a hand and put it to his arm. He grips it and holds on, looking incredibly concerned. “He doesn’t need to know, okay? That’s a lot of stress on him, and you know what he does for work. Even worrying about me was hard on him, what do you think a child would do?”
“You can’t think like that,” the Scot mutters. “He can help—what, you mean to tell me you plan to do this by yourself?” It isn’t malicious how he says it; Johnny’s worried about you. Incredibly. “Hen, no,” he shakes his head. “No, you can’t.”
“I can, Johnny,” you frown, dread filling your heart. “And I will.”
In the future, you really had to take into account Johnny’s flapping lips when under the spell of alcohol. Maybe you had enough faith in him to watch himself for the last little while of your pregnancy as he had into the latter half of the eighth month.
And then three firm knocks were at your door, and when you opened it, you were face to face with a painted balaclava and frazzled brown eyes.
Those eyes immediately snap down, and not even a word is uttered to your face until then.
The both of you are stone-still. Frozen. Dead to all else. 
You swear it was hours of this—standing in the doorway with Simon’s fingers stiff in his pockets and his chest not even moving in a pulse or flare of his lungs. He doesn’t even blink. 
“How far along?” His voice is monotone. A low drone in the ringing of your ears.
Damn that Scot.
“Eight and a half,” you say quietly. 
Brown eyes shift up to yours. Simon stares, and you see his jaw clench under his balaclava, his shoulders moving. Again a long pause. 
“When’s the next appointment—”
“It’s a girl.” You see his eyelids peel back and halt there, watching you. “In case you care to stick around and see her.”
Cruel perhaps, but it was nothing short of how he acted while leaving you. 
Simon’s hidden face is slack, stuttering silently for a moment as the light fades outside.
“Didn’t…didn’t know,” he grunts out, blinking quickly.
“I know you didn’t,” you utter. “That was the point, Simon.”
“Johnny told me ‘bout it, didn’t believe him.” His brown eyes swirl, breaking. “Thought you’d mention it if you were.” 
“You left,” you breathe. “Why would I reach out to someone that did that to me.”
“M’sorry, I-I don’t…” Simon clears his throat, looking away. His eyes are glossy, fingers moving out of his pockets so his twitching hands can splay out. “Could have explained, but I didn’t know how, Love. I’m not…this isn’t…”
Words fail him just like his ability to explain his emotions. Part of him was angry—angry that you’d gone all this time without reaching out when he could have helped.
A daughter. 
But he was afraid, as well. Terrified. You were in the right and he knew it. Simon didn’t know the first thing about being a father…but then again, you didn’t know how to be a mother, either. 
This was new territory.
“Marry me,” Simon pushes out with a quick force of breath. 
“Wh—,” you choke on air. “What?”
“Let me make it up to you, yeah?” Gloved hands move at his sides, eyes honest but still shiny. “Wasn’t thinking—my fault and I can’t go on if I don’t know you’re safe.” He licks at the corner of his mouth. “...Both of you. Thought leaving would make the best sense, but I was…fucking hell. M’sorry.”
“Simon, there are many more ways other than marriage.” Your anger wasn’t something that could be washed away that easily, even if your heart fluttered at the idea and his apology.
You had more self-respect than that.
“Let me fix this,” he whispers, leaning closer. 
Your hand rests over your stomach, staying there as the minutes draw. Simon waits, nervous and his fingers tap on his thigh. You know he’s afraid. You know he’s nervous about what he could bring home from work, even if those are only his paranoia talking in his ear like a demon. 
You frown. 
You huff.
And you open the door wider.
“The sheets need changing in my room. Get on it.”
The man says nothing before he enters the house and slips off his boots; disappearing into the linen closet.
Tumblr media
3K notes · View notes
theramblingvoid · 2 years
Text
Why don't I hear more about undead beings coming back to warn people? It's always zombies wanting to drag people down to join them in the grave, ghosts seeking vengeance, spirits trying to chase people out of their domains - but if you died horribly and were left rattling around some spooky mansion for eternity, wouldn't you want to stop people from blundering into the same death you had?
You feel a cold breath on your neck as you get in the car. It won't leave until you fasten your seatbelt. An unseen force catches your foot as you pass the fourth step every time you walk up the stairs. During a renovation, you find out the wood is rotten. You can never find a pack of cigarettes - even ones guests bring disappear from their pockets and are found weeks later on the lawn, empty. Your daughter is giggling and laughing at something unseen, chasing after it away from the cliffside on your family hike. You don't know why, but you feel compelled to leave a spare hairband and some stickers on a picnic table as you leave the park. Tribute? A thank you? The items are gone by next time you visit, and you swear a happy child's hum follows you home on the breeze.
...More preventative hauntings. It just makes sense.
57K notes · View notes
Text
In case anyone needed this reminder:
Your fav COD man does not get off on your pain during sex. Ever.
So much of male-dominated language involving sex glorifies a woman's pain for his pleasure. She's expected to "just take it".
Your fav COD guy does not want that when he's with you. And if you've come to think of it as normal - because of previous experiences, because that's what everyone tells you, because you don't want to make a fuss and disappoint him, whatever the reason - he'll put a stop to it and have a serious talk with you about it.
These men have seen and experienced horrible shit in their lives.
You are their safe space. Their home. The one person they feel like they can be truly vulnerable with in a world that has made them battle-rough with scars, misery, and grief.
They want you to stay soft with them. They want you to have the safety of completely pure pleasure. They never ever want you to force or endure anything, let alone for their sake.
If it's a kink you're into, that's a different story.
But if you're not into it, your fav won't go anywhere near it. They won't pressure you to "just try it, maybe you'll like it". It's completely off the table, never to be mentioned again, and they'll be sure to lavish you in all the things you really love to show that you can relax with them.
Just as you have allowed them to lower their guard and let down their walls, they will do the same for you. When you are with them, you are safe in every sense of the word.
1K notes · View notes
dcxdpdabbles · 3 months
Note
There are so many fics out there where Danny is either adopted by or the biological son of Bruce. In many of these he might have an existential crisis but other wise he is fine and happy to be part of the BatFam. Where are the ones where he fights against this just doesn't want to connect with Bruce of the rest of the family.
One: Bruce is a billionaire and Danny has had some bad experience with Vlad trying to adopt/get him as a son. So even if Bruce is one of "the good ones" Danny does't like billionaires.
Two: Danny for the most part grew up in a mostly normal family and home, with two Parents and a sibling. Most of the BatFam were only children and parents are dead or came from dysfunctional homes. I think Duke is the only one who really had a normal childhood.
Three: The Fenton family is pretty openly affectionate with each other and are pretty normal emotionally. Danny has a great relationship with all of them (Danny went evil in the timeline where they all died). Most of the Batfam is emotionally constipated.
Four: Danny is used to his boundaries being respected. I don't think that the Batfam is great at that. With Bruce needing to know everything, Tim's stalking tendencies, Barbra's hacking, just to name the obvious.
Danny knew that he was adopted into the Fentons. His parents had never hidden it from him, but they never treated him as anything besides their child.
He had come into their lives one day when one of Maddie's old high school friends had called, bawling that she had gotten pregnant and that her husband wasn't the father. He had discovered the truth and thrown her out, leaving her pregnant and alone on the streets of Gotham.
Maddie had been furious at the affair- she hated disloyalty- but had decided to help her only for the baby's sake.
She had driven over multiple state lines back to her home city to pick up the friend only to find out she had taken her life and left her newborn son to Maddie. While Maddie had been able to escape the hellhole that was Gotham, Rebecca never got the chance, not with her average intelligence.
In high school, the two were as close as sisters until Rebecca fell into the whisky bottles her father carelessly left around. She blossomed into a beautiful woman upon their graduation- more so than Maddie-, turning from a sweet homebody into someone who got into exclusive parties and powerful men.
Maddie had slowly drifted away from her, so far away at college, and Rebecca fell further and further into the party scene. It was a surprise that she settled down for marriage and Maddie truly believed that she had been happy with her husband.
That's why Danny was such a surprise. Maddie did not know who Danny's biological father was, but she did not care. Not after they placed the sobbing infant into her arms, and she realized that she was his mother now.
She immediately phoned Jack to tell him what had happened, and he told Jazz she was a big sister before the call ended. They told him the story about when he started to learn his colors. Not with her taking her life, of course; that was when Danny turned fourteen. This was only a few days before Danny revealed he was Phantom to them.
They were first shocked, but then they became supportive. Phantom now had two proud ghost hunters following him, shooting photos instead of guns.
It was embarrassing, but it was also nice of them.
And that was that. Danny is a Fenton, adopted, but a child of Maddie and Jack Fenton all the same.
He never gave his biological parents a thought. In fact, he all but forgot about them until Sam convinced him to take an ancestry test. He had allowed her to swipe his mouth, package his DNA, and send it off to see where his people came from, completely forgetting that he would not match with Jazz, who had done the same thing a month prior.
His results were shocking, to say the least.
Somehow, someway, Rebecca Silver had been in the system of DNA samples, and they had matched him to her alongside his biological father.
Bruce Wayne. Rebecca had an affair with Bruce Wayne, arguably one of the wealthiest men in the country, and they had sent him a message to let him know he matched with his son.
An eccentric billionaire has just been told that Danny was his. He knew that song and dance well, and it was never fun to dance to. Danny could only stare at the results with dread as Sam apologized profoundly.
"Maybe he won't see it." Tucker tried. "I mean, Wayne is probably so busy with rich people stuff he doesn't have time to even look at his emails. Especially ones that will come in spam since it's comersolized."
"Yeah, Maybe" Danny doesn't think he's that lucky.
A month later, the Fenton's home phone rings. His parents are working on a new invention on the dinning room table, Danny is stretched out in front of the TV watching a mindless cartoon and Jazz is crocheting in the love chair.
It's a typical Tuesday night where everyone is doing their own thing but close enough to each other that they can call it family time. Jazz is the closest to the house phone so she picks it up with a cheerful "Fenton house, this is Jasmine."
Her smile slowly slips away as all the blood drains from her face. Alarmed by her reaction, Danny sits up. "Jazz? What's wrong?"
His words have his parents' heads snapping up, zoning in on their daughter's rapidly growing destress. Yes, they get distracted often with their work, but the Fentons have always been loving parents.
They quickly spring into action.
"Jazzy-pants?" His dad says, walking up to her and taking the phone from her slack hand. He covers the speaking end of it, not paying attention to the call as his mom hugs his sister. "What's the matter?"
"It's... Bruce Wayne's lawyer," Jazz says faintly. "He's calling about Danny. He said that Mr. Wayne has been attempting to take Danny back and that they are going to take us to court soon."
The room goes dead quiet, and Danny snorts. "He can't do that without a letter or something. Come on Jazz, it's obviously a prank."
Someone at school likely found out and thought it would be funny to make "the biggest loser of Casper High" Danny Fenton, think a billionaire wanted him as a son. Honestly, he wouldn't put it past the A-listers.
He laughs to show how stupid this prank is, but neither of his parents joins him. Instead, his mother closes her eyes and whispers, "We received his court papers weeks ago. We've been trying to get a lawyer."
What.
She pushes Jazz into his dad's arms, where his sister is slowly panicking. His dad tries to soothe her as his mom opens the drawer under the TV, pulling out three orange envelopes. She looks remorseful as she hands them to Danny. "We didn't want you to worry. I'm sorry we didn't tell you sooner. Vlad said he would help, but he wasn't sure what he could do against such a powerful man"
And there, in overly complicated terms, is clear as day. Bruce Wayne wanted full custody of Danny Fenton and was willing to take the Fentons to court to get it done.
The man- who has never so much as met Danny, much less have a right to say what happens to him- was accusing his parents of child abuse and child neglect! He not only was trying to take Danny away but Jazz as well!
Where did this man get the audacity!?
"I don't want to go with him!" He shouts rage, making his eyes glow green. "I don't even know him!"
"I know, sweetie. I won't let him take you" His mom says, yanking him into a protective hug, and he realizes that her shirt is getting wet with his tears. Tears that fall just like the woman who raised him. "Everything will be alright."
It won't be, he knows, but he won't tell her that. He just lets his mother hold him, and when his sister and father crash into the hug a second later, he holds them just as tight.
He's not sure how they will win against Bruce Wayne, but Danny will fight his biological father every step of the way. He will not be his son.
______________________________________________________________
Bruce stares at the photo of Danny Fenton- his son. His boy, whom he wasn't aware was alive until a month ago- and the reports from concerned teachers and whatever information Barbra could pull from his classmate's social media.
Dramatically dropping grades.
Clear signs of sleepless nights.
Flinches whenever his parents pull out "ghost hunting" gear.
Strange bruises and cuts along his arms and legs.
His small stature is no longer growing properly like his peers.
It all pointed to one thing. The Fentons were abusing his son and Bruce would bet the sister was suffering from the same treatment if her own grade dropping, sleepless eyes, and desperate race to adulthood were any indication.
Bruce laces his hands, resting his chin on them as the Batcomputer slowly flips through various reports being quickly dismissed by incompetent social workers who all claim it was Ghost Hunter related and not a cause for concern.
Those same social workers all seemed to have gotten quite generous donations from one Vlad Masters, a well-known family friend of the Fentons.
He hates corruption that allows children to be hurt, more so when it;'s his own children.
"When do we go retrieve Brother?" Damian asks, green eyes narrowing in rage as the reports scroll slowly. Ever since he found out Danny is a blood sibling, all Damian has been talking about is getting his elder brother home. "I am displeased with how long it's been, Father."
"Soon," Bruce promises, aware the rest of his children gather around him. They don't speak, but he feels their protective rage at what Danny has gone through, and he knows they will use every last bit of their training to get Danny home. "Either through the courts or in person. Danny will be with us come summer."
"Good," grunts Jason. "I'll have a little chat with his adoptive scumbags when we get him."
"I'll help," Dick tacks on.
"I'll make it look like an accident," Tim says, voice leveled but eyes blazing as the reports get to the neglect section. He has personal issues about that.
Bruce has never been so proud. "Court date is set for three weeks. They can't weasel their way out of it this time."
Don't worry son, he thinks to Danny, I'm going to save you.
761 notes · View notes
sleepyconfusedpotato · 8 months
Text
Tumblr media
So Graves is Alive... 🪦💀
Alejandro and Rudy wasted no time at all to make Graves' second life a living hell. He might do a cool trick though who knows!
Alejandro and Rudy should've been the ones we play on that tank mission not Soap I will die on this hill ‼️‼️
Inspired by @numberonegiverwitch 's meme!
Hope you love this lil comic! (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)
Tag yourself I'm Rudy
2K notes · View notes
diooonna · 1 month
Text
mdni, nsfw, dead dove do not eat, dubcon, r is drunk, age-gap, r is 19-20.
a pervert ghost.. ugh.
you’d been recruited 3 weeks ago, spending your days minding your business and training.
during training, your lieutenant, ‘ghost’ had watched you occasionally. he’d followed you to your barracks, sneaking into the showers to catch a glimpse of you naked. it was nothing weird, though. he just needed to keep an eye on you.
when you’d get drunk at the recreation facility with a friend, stumbling back to your barracks just for him to find you right outside the door.
“easy, little one. a bit battered, hm?” his hand softly pressed against your hips and stomach to steady your already trembling body. your lips were slick with saliva while you spoke softly, “maybe just a lil’ bit,” you weren’t just a little.
you shook your head incessantly, then nodded again, “lil’ bit.” you would have recognized him by now if your thoughts hadn’t been clouded by the pints you drunk stupidly.
what was he even doing out here? the rational thoughts hadn’t even crossed your mind—you only thought about your pillow. he ran his hand over your back just before stopping at your ass, gripping the soft flesh. “should get back, hm, love?” his voice was deeper now—lower.
the way his thick fingers would rub all over your wet pussy—your knees nearly buckled, all drunk & not knowing what to do. you’d basically melt into his arms, legs trembling as he led you back to his quarters.
he’d tell könig he finally got you to himself, finally free to touch you all over. you’d nod dumbly when he’d thumb your already fat clit through your lace panties, dress ridden up to your hips while he held your tummy.
“already soaked, aren’t you, love?” he said, when his fingers would prod at your tight entrance. “mhm, mhm..” his words fell straight through your ears as you focused on grinding your needy cunt onto his fingers.
“‘s like that, l-like that.” poor thing, barely conscious to know your dirty superior was touching you like this.
478 notes · View notes
harveywritings92 · 1 year
Text
Captured Thug, the 1-4-1 are interrogating: Least you can do is have that tart suck me off. 
[He nods towards R/n, who grimaces in disgust, (she was disguised as a hooker and they used her to capture the bloke.)]
[The air in the room grows colder as Ghost slowly approaches the tied up man.]
Ghost: That’s all you think she is, eh? Some Tart?
Thug: She gave me blue balls.
Ghost: Oh, Did she?~
[Ghost suddenly rams his foot into the guy’s crotch hard, causing the man to howl in utter agony.] 
Ghost: There. Now they’re black and blue balls....
2K notes · View notes
lilybug-02 · 10 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Chara gets friends in my head cannon so I don't cry at night. There is now a whole ghost society so everyone gets ghost therapy ❤️
1K notes · View notes
milf-murdock · 4 months
Text
The Scare: Part II
A/N: Y'all this is filthyyyyyyy. Absolutely fucking disgusting and I cannot get enough of it omg. I think I blacked out while writing this.
Check out Part 1 here
Warnings: Dark!Simon AU, breeding kink, pregnancy mentions, baby trapping, creepy behavior, red flags (dreamy), and if there's anything else I need to tag just let me know!
Putting the read more right at top because babes we are just jumping right into it ;,)
Simon is legendary when it comes to details. Nothing gets past this man. Especially, when he’s on a mission. And right now? Simon was a man on a mission. 
“Fuck babe,” he grunted as he pressed your legs even farther back, your knees nearly to your ears. “So fuckin’ tight.” His thrusts were deep, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix with every thrust. 
You were beyond response. Not only had he made you come on his fingers while he sucked on that pretty little clit, but he’d made sure to put a couple pillows underneath you, propping up your hips for him, opening yourself to a new angle that had you seeing fucking stars. All you could do was moan and gasp as Simon gripped your hips and drove his cock into you at a relentless pace. 
He had seen this position online, when he was conducting his late-night research on a private, completely locked-down browser, searching up the best ways to get you pregnant. 
___
He knew that he needed to lock you down, to ensure that there was no way you were going anywhere. He wanted you all to himself. And he wanted everyone to know just who you fucking belonged to. 
You’d be the prettiest mum, Simon thought to himself as he scrolled through the online articles, absentmindedly stroking his cock. You were fast asleep in the next room, and he was so thankful. He couldn’t stop thinking about you, round with his baby, heavy breasts, your supple curves growing even more. His fist moved faster, sliding over his thick cock, pulling back the skin to tease the bright red head. If he got you pregnant now, you’d be due just at the end of summer. The thought of you in one of your gorgeous sundresses, heavily and adorably pregnant with his baby, was enough to send him over the edge, hips rutting up into his hand. He tried to conceal his groan as the hot spurts of come landed on his bare chest. 
___
Simon is phenomenal when it comes to details. Which is how he has your cycle fucking memorized. Which is why he has you spread on your bed, legs in the air, pounding into you with everything he has. 
He knows this is your ovulation window. Sure, he had made sure to fill you up yesterday, and he’ll make damn sure to fill you up tomorrow, too, just to be safe. But today? Today was when you were most fertile. He knows, because he’s been secretly tracking your ovulation, taking your temperature while you sleep to make the most accurate prediction. He had been so disappointed to see that negative test last month. His hopes had been so high when he saw that you were late. Only to be dashed the next morning when your period had started. He coddled you through it, of course, bringing you medicine, hot tea, heating pad, endless snuggles. But the whole time, he was planning how this month would be different. 
He’d knock you up if it was the last thing he fucking did. 
___
“Such a good girl, taking my fuckin’ cock,” Simon groaned, pulling back his hips, all the way so just the tip rested inside you. 
“I can’t—it’s too,” you sputter, absolutely cock drunk. 
“Ah, but you can, love,” Simon smirked to himself as he thrusted deep into your weeping pussy, all the way to the hilt. He reveled in the way you screamed in pleasure. He continued the pattern: pulling out, thrusting in, picking up the pace. His heavy balls bounced off your ass as his pace picked up. You were getting close, he could tell, your body starting to stiffen, your cries getting louder. He used his broad hands to grab your hips and hold you steady as he hammered into you, relentless in his pursuit. 
“Gonna come for me, dove?” He teased, his voice deep and earnest, filled with lust. He needed you to finish. He’d read an old wives tale saying the seed was more likely to take root when the mother finishes. The thought alone nearly had Simon coming right then and there. Your shaky voice brought him back to reality. “Yes, uh huh, don’t forget—“ you screamed as he thrusted in you particularly hard. “Pull out,” you mumbled, hazy in the oncoming fog of your orgasm. “Fuck Simon, fuck, fuck FUCK,” you screamed as your orgasm overtook you.
Simon watched as your eyes rolled back into your head and your back arched off the gentle stack of pillows, pushing your breasts forward. Simon couldn’t help the mental image that popped into his head: you, swollen with his child, those same breasts full of milk, ready to nourish your child, his child. Everyone would know how he had pleased you, claimed you, made you his. 
Simon’s hips stuttered as he came, a resounding growl of pleasure escaping his lips as he slammed into your cunt a final time. His seed flooded your cervix, filling you with a warmth you were too blissed out to recognize. Ropes and ropes of his spend filled you,  his cock twitching inside you, as Simon pressed his face against your chest, breathing heavily. 
“Fuckin hell, love,” he moaned. “Gonna be the fucking death of me.” 
He slid his softening cock out of you, careful to use his fingers to scoop any escaping seed back into your aching cunt. He silently tutted to himself. We can’t be having that, now can we? 
485 notes · View notes
snowe-zolynn-rogers · 3 months
Text
Lunar: What do the Ghosts Of Daycare Attendants Past say today Solar?
Solar: They’re all ganging up on me and chanting ‘Therapy! Therapy!’
Lunar: …
Solar: They’ve been doing this for five hours.
Lunar: Maybe you should listen to them.
90 notes · View notes
bratfiction · 2 months
Note
[plane crashing sound] we’ve heard of hybrid!reader x simon but how abt hybrid!simon x reader,,,, he marks you all the time with his smell, a bite mark, (or his cum or piss) whenever you’re not paying attention, always insisting you stay home with him (or even better, let him build you a home in the middle of no where so no one can bother you two) n he’s somehow always in his rut whenever you’re ovulation [passes out on the ground in a heap]
hybrid!simon— a whole brand new level of BASTARD. ending up with him because you wanted a companion + protection and you just end up with a big bully !!! but he really does love you… he’s just so possessive and he can’t be blamed for that. it’s quite literally how he’s biologically programmed !!!
WARNINGS… 18+ CONTENT, MDNI. includes DUBCON [reader is slightly intoxicated + mentions of a struggle], hybrid!simon -> guard-dog!simon, “owner”!reader, possession, manhandling, a second of degradation, spit kink [drool, slobber], biting, cunt inspection, a single spank, light choking, oral [r. receiving], scent kink, breeding kink.
Tumblr media
It’s past midnight. Even if you haven’t checked the time in an hour or so, you know that much. The atmosphere in your apartment is oddly still as you lock your front door behind you, dropping your keys onto the first flat surface available. You try your best not to stumble over, getting your bearings—usually Simon is hounding you by now, in every sense of the word. Sniffing your jacket, tugging at your shirt, ridding you of whatever traces of the outside world you’re bringing into the nest you two share. 
“Si?” You call out his nickname into the thick air. Only to be cornered in the next second. 
He doesn’t realize how scary he is in these moments, crowding your space entirely and towering over you. His ears stand tall on his head; pointy and scarred from years of being a fighter. He hasn’t always been such a spoiled pooch. He got lucky with you, and he recognizes that everyday. But it makes it hard to worship the ground you walk on when you come home reeking of multiple men. The scent of smoke and bourbon lingers on you, and it makes him snarl. A deep and carnal sound that has you shaking in your booties while his face contorts, baring his teeth at you. 
You lower your head and silently pray this gesture of submission will be enough. Your words are slurred, unfortunately not helping your case by any means, “I told you I’d be going out after work!”  
Thick arms wrap around you— your chest pressing up against Simon’s, allowing you to feel his chest vibrate as he growls out a string of curses. Fuckin’ slag. Your eyebrows knit together while your hands end up flat on his chest, trying to push him away. 
“Get off, Simon.” 
Although you may be his “owner,” you’ve never given him such a direct command before. Nearly matching his energy with how you spit the words out. He’s always been such a moody but nonetheless protective and faithful companion up until now. It pains him to disobey, really. He can't stop himself or drown out the biology driven anger clouding his reasoning. 
And you certainly don’t make it easy for him to pin you down onto the couch. Kicking and flailing until you feel it. The fat bulge in his pants, pressing against your ass. All hot and heavy and letting you know he’s been aching for hours, waiting for you to return. 
It’s sick how quickly your brain tells you to submit. It shouldn’t be this way; you shouldn’t let him have so much power over you. But when his teeth sink into your neck painfully, his slobber drips over your skin and down your shoulder, soaking through your shirt… you yelp in pain. Just like a bitch would do. There’s little time to revel in the pain when he soothes the fresh wound with his tongue, when his hands are making the rounds on your body. 
What you were wearing is a forgotten memory within minutes— a heap of cotton, denim and lace on the ground between your clothes and Simon’s.
You can hear him panting behind you. Face to face with your cunt, inspecting to make sure no one else tried to claim what’s his. A bit silly on his part since he would’ve been able to smell it on you and your pretty cunt anyway. His thumbs spread your folds, pulling them apart while he marvels at how cute and leaky you are. You press your heated face into the back couch cushions, wiggling your hips to get him to do anything other than gawking at you. 
He scoffs, “Y’think you deserve having your pussy played with?” 
“Didn’t do anything wrong, Si.” You huff out, annoyed all over again but so desperate for anything from him. 
His heavy hand comes down on your ass. You scream as the sting spreads over your plump cheek, before hiding your face once again and holding onto one of the throw pillows for dear life. Arousal slips off of your cunt in glossy, glimmering strings— finally enticing Simon enough to dive in. 
He dips his tongue into your pussy, appreciating the way you squeal upon feeling the wet heat so much that his big ears twitch. A thick thumb comes up to rub your clit in circles, determined to make you cum on his face before he stuffs you full of his cock. It’s only a matter of minutes before you’re whimpering and squirming, letting him know you’re gonna cum with pitchy cries. You feel so pathetic crumbling under him, as if you’re the one that needs to be leashed and looked after. The wet spot made up of his drool and your cum mixed together beneath you isn’t helping. 
Simon isn’t known for letting up, so he’s curling over you in the next second, enjoying the way your form trembles against his. The way the bit of fat he has over his abs and valleys of muscle nestles into the gap the arch of your lower back makes so perfectly. You shiver as the tip of his cock is guided along your sensitive cunt, bumping up against your clit enough to make you jolt and squirm. 
“Simon, please…” 
A strong hand covers the front of your throat. Just barely squeezing, his lips rub up on the shell of your ear. You can hear him inhale so deeply, taking in every intoxicating note that makes up your scent before he begins speaking, “All mine, right? M’little breeding bitch?” 
Fuck. The words make your core ache. Dull and sharp, reminding you of just how empty you feel. You dig your nails into that pillow again and choke out a sob, eyes fluttering shut just as he really gives your throat a good squeeze. 
“All yours, Si,” you breathe, “your breeding bitch.” 
It’s all the confirmation he needs and more to work each fat inch of his cock inside of you. Hopefully fucking you into submission for good so you don’t ever end up in the pub surrounded by dickheads again— he thinks you’ll agree it’s not a suitable environment for you and the cute baby bump you’ll have anyway. 
347 notes · View notes
tactax-art · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
Ghost baited Soap into a drinking contest and lost so bad he can't walk, now Soap is carrying him back to base while having the leftovers ♥️
1K notes · View notes
ao3-crack · 11 months
Text
Tumblr media
(x)
1K notes · View notes
wxnheart · 8 months
Text
Simon has his moments whether you know it or not.
His father's words ring like echoes he can't escape from and no matter how hard he tries, he can't help but second-guess himself when it comes to you.
Being a soldier is a hell of a lot easier than being in a relationship. There are absolutes—sureties—and direction, and the twitch of the trigger finger or a shadow cast over the enemy's eyes was all the decision necessary between life and death.
But off the field with you, there's nuance, shades of grey darker and deeper than anything that's been thrown at him before, and he thinks of his parents. He thinks of his dad, a black hole of misery and hate, never offering a kind word and lashing out at the thought that his sons would even think to be better than him. Simon thinks of his mother and how he watched the light in her eyes dim over the years, watched as the cherished floral perfume and cheeky grin became a fleeting memory because the miserable fuck would rather have a soulless husk for a wife than the proud woman who could and would challenge him, and he fears becoming like his father. And every day he fights that battle and wonders if he'll ever win the war.
He thinks you could do better. Fuck, he knows you can. He isn't the most attractive nor is he the most personable. Bloody hell, he still freezes up whenever you surprise him with a hug or kiss—Simon's thoughts linger on these more than they abso-fucking-lutely should.
But then he sees your smile and the brightness in your eyes so unlike his mother's. He sees you being yourself unashamed, and the way you shower him with affection makes him feel like the most special motherfucker on the planet. He remembers when you first called him by his name and for once he didn't feel the dread or hear the lingering threat behind it.
So yeah, Simon fears becoming like his father. He fears it and fights that battle every fucking day, but you... because of you...
Shit, you're all the more reason for him to win that goddamn war.
564 notes · View notes