#and yes it was necessary to turn him into a kitty

[fruzdin]

i also rlly like pavitr btw 💥

#uuuhhh #spiderverse #across the spiderverse #idk how else to tag this RAAAAH #anyway #he is the silliest thing ever I lvoe him #and yes it was necessary to turn him into a kitty #so what! #I also had to simplify his design a little I’m sorry 💔

[selineram3421]

*looking at taglist slowly turning into a CVS receipt*

Hissy Kitty

Part 2

Part 1

Alastor X Reader

Warnings⚠

⚠ Alastor is still annoying lol, Husk is not having it, italics=thoughts, reader gets pissed ⚠

Husk felt confident that Alastor would stop being annoying. It was in the contract that he couldn't touch you. He had to follow the contract.

Of course the asshole found a loophole.

"Dear, do be careful.", the deer guided you away from broken glass.

"Alastor..", you said in a deadpanned tone. "I have to clean that up."

"Yes but I just wanted to remind you the dangers of handling broken glass.", he smiled at you and turned to grin smugly at the cat behind him.

Fucking hell.

"I know how to handle glass.", you said and started to sweep up the mess.

"Very well, I'll stop pestering you about glass."

You were of course oblivious to Alastor's games.

Husk knew that he should have been more specific so that the smiling asshole couldn't touch you at all.

"Hey, squirt."

"What?", you responded, finishing up sweeping the trash.

"Go to where the Princess is. I'm pretty sure she wanted you to do something upstairs.", he says with a shooing motion.

"Ok, I'll go up after tossing this out.", you said and went towards the staff only hallway.

"Don't worry about it.", your brother said and went to take the dust pan from you. "Just head over now."

"What a good older sibling you are!", the red dressed demon commented with a smile.

You glanced between the two, feeling a weird tension in the air.

"Ok...", you leaned the broom against one of the couches. "Don't kill each other while I'm gone.", you say before going upstairs.

After making sure his sibling was far enough, the cat demon growled and glared at the Radio Demon. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?", he said with clenched teeth.

"I'm doing what I'm allowed to!", Alastor said cheerfully and walked over to the bartender. "So, obviously I am touching them when necessary, like moving them away from danger.", he reached out to scratch behind one of Husker's ears.

"Stop fucking playing!", Husk yelled, smacking the deer's hand away. "They aren't your toy or pet asshole! SO LEAVE THEM THE FUCK ALONE!"

Alastor's smile twitched slightly.

Who is this demon to tell me no? I own the cat, so they just had to suck it up and follow along.

"I think you're forgetting one tiny, but ever so crucial, little detail?", the red demon grew taller, static crackling loudly. "I OWN YOU."

"I know.", Husk hissed out. "But I won't let you do anything to them."

.

You headed back to the lobby confused.

Charlie hadn't called for you at all but she did let you know that you would be getting a different job soon.

Why did he lie? You wondered and turned a corner to get to the stairs.

That's when you felt your fur stand on end, static noise making you shiver and cringe.

Rushing towards the lobby, you saw Alastor take a threatening step towards your brother in his taller demon form. In the moment, it didn't matter if the red demon was one of your bosses or not, you would protect your brother.

Standing between the two, you growled and hissed at the deer demon, fur bristling and tail flicking back and forth.

"BACK THE FUCK UP."

Husk quickly held on to you and tried to pull you back. "No! Stay back, let me handle this!"

You stayed put, still glaring up at the red demon.

Alsastor looked at you in an odd way before he shrunk back to size and fixed his coat. "Ahem, apologies.", he held his hands behind his back. "I didn't mean to give you such a scare!"

Still annoyed, you squinted your eyes at him and finally let your brother take you away from the lobby.

Once getting to somewhere private, Husk immediately shook you by your shoulders. "WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU THINKING KID!?"

You shook your head and moved his arms off of you. "I was thinking of getting you out of there!", you huff. "Look, I know he's the Radio Demon. I know you have some fucked up deal."

Husk tries to interject.

"NO! No, I am not done!", you point at him. "I know somewhere in that deal you made has my protection and that's why Alastor has been so weird when it comes to me. He wants to bug and annoy you for fucking shits and giggles.", you take a breath and brush your ears down to settle your anger. "I've been worried about you ever since you stopped talking to me. What happened at your casino?"

He turns away from you and takes a moment before sighing.

"I lost almost everything..", he grumbled. "I had to make a deal to save my power."

You placed a hand on his shoulder.

"But just because I'm stuck in a bind, doesn't mean you jump into my battles.", he glares at you. "I can handle the smiling piece of shit."

With a roll of your eyes, you turn him to face you completely.

"That's what I've been trying to tell you since getting here.", you hold his claws. "I can fight my own battles, sure I might need help at times but I'll ask you when I do. I know the dangers, I know the risks, I know my limits.", you let go. "But to you I'm just still a defenseless kid.."

"You'll always be my little sibling. Of course I'm gonna think of you as a kid.", he sighs. "But I'll stop giving you shit for some stuff.", he points a claw at you. "You hear that? Some."

"Yeah, yeah.", you smile and hug your brother.

He pats your head and both of you enjoy the peace.

For a second.

"Ok, now get off.", he says.

"Nah, you can handle a few more seconds.", you say and don't let go.

"Awww~"

Both of you get hugged from behind by Angel.

"Look at how soft you are around them~", the spider pinches your brother's cheek with one of his hands, turning his head to look at you. "You should hang around him more often."

"Get your ass off me.", Husk grumbles and moves out of the hug.

"But Husky~!", Angel whines as he clings onto your brother. "You are just sooo cute!"

You laugh as the two go back and forth with their banter, happy that your brother is ok.

Meanwhile, Alastor went up to his radio tower.

The shadows in the room curling and twisting around, the radio static getting louder and louder that it numbed out the sounds from outside.

Something had changed.

Please let me know if you don't find your tag!

~Seline, the person.

Part 3

Taglist@

@ducky-died-inside @scary-noodlesblog @c4rved-pumpk1n @stolas-thebirb @naelys-the-aster @biromanticboba @kiraisastay @lbcreations-blog @pooplyface1423 @jane-3043 @chocolat3pudding @chewbrry @dewdropsposts @danveration @jyoongim @iloveblogging2 @elaemae @hallowedandhungry @fandom-nobody @nevermore-ramblings @creepylilneko @perilous-pasta @xdolls-crownx @hxzbinwrites @alikate82 @angeliclovely69 @line-viper @117s-girl @spiderlegsling @alastorsgoldie @repentant-repeller @kcsketches @lofasofabread @kotaleee @im-coolrat @superzombiewho @speckle-meow-meow @jammcookie @dilucragnvindr-my-beloved @trashbin-nie @koioli @fatherlesschild2 @mmik3yy @just-here-reading @tsukilover11 @cheshairacat @the-unhinged-raccoon @plapperlapapp @thesimpguru @stevenuniversezanite @random-3455 @hypnossses @crazyforbarnes @ngjhgftujgrtui @haveawanderfulday @dark-stars-and-the-moons-melody @karolinda007-blog @twistedkisses @ghostedddd @+?

ML for Alastor🎙 | HK ChL😾

#older brother husk #alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #x reader #alastor the radio demon #gn reader #the radio demon #alastor x reader #fanfic #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin fanfic #cat demon reader #radio demon #angel dust #angel dust hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel angel dust #hazbin angel dust

[dira333]

Big Stretch - Kenma x Reader

@luvring you cannot post a Kenma hc and think I won't find out and marinate it in my head until I have to write it

Haikyuu taglist: @lees-chaotic-brain

"Oooh, big stretch."

Kenma turns to glare at you, arms not fully extended yet. He folds in again, pouting slightly. "I'm not a cat," he says and you cock your head to the side to observe him.

"Could have fooled me." You tease.

He huffs, face growing red as he looks to the side. Oh no, did you go too far?

“Hey,” you lean in, try to catch his eye, “That was meant as a compliment. I like cats.”

He hums low in his throat, turns his amber eyes back to the paper in front of him.

“Can we just go back to work?” He asks and you nod. “Yeah, sure.”

-

“Oooh, big stretch.”

Kenma sends you a pointed glare. The guy next to him, hair dark and disheveled, chuckles low in his throat.

“Your friend?” He asks and Kenma makes it a point to shake his head exaggeratedly.

“Should I turn around so you can finish stretching?” You ask, leaning into your seat, “Or can I stay to enjoy the show.”

Red blooms on Kenma’s face as he ducks behind the collar of his shirt.

“Stop,” he whines, “There are people around.”

“Ah, young love,” the guy next to him whistles and Kenma digs an elbow into his side. “Stop it, Kuroo! I don’t even know them!”

“Liar,” you call him out, “You love me.” And though it’s said as a joke you can’t help but think that it’s more of a manifestation. If you say it often enough it will come true.

-

“Oooh, big stretch.” 

Kenma huffs. He stops moving, frozen for a second before he throws his arm around you, rests his head on your shoulder and fakes the loudest snore you’ve ever heard.

“Long game, huh?” You ask, eyes finding Kuroo’s who’s got the usual knowing smirk.

“Aren’t you tired too, dear manager?” He asks.

You shake your head, heart bubbling in your chest with how close Kenma is. Even if you had been exhausted, you couldn’t be anymore, not with him cuddling into you.

Out of sight of his teammates, his ankle crosses yours.

Truly, feet-holding is so much cuter than hand-holding.

-

“Oooh, big stretch.”

Kenma blinks, sleep settling heavily into his skin. He makes grabby hands, calling you in, and even though teasing him is as necessary to you as breathing, you cannot stay away when he’s cute like this.

You settle on his lap, lean over him, hands on either side of his face as if you’re kabedon-ing him into the mattress.

“Slept well, little kitty?” You ask and he smiles, hair fanned out around his face. 

Instead of answering he hooks one hand around your neck and pulls you in, his lips soft and a little chapped, writing poetry into your skin.

-

“Oooh, big stretch.”

Kenma glares, lips stretching into a pout at your words. You can tell he’s not fully done stretching yet, but he’s unwilling to stretch again just because you commented on it.

“In my defense,” you tell him, nudging his back with your socked foot, “You are napping like a cat.”

“‘m not.”

“Am too. It’s cute.”

“Your mom’s cute.”

You snicker. “I’ll tell her you said that.”

He groans. “Look away,” he says, “I need to stretch.”

“Mhm, no, I got full staring rights when you said ‘I do’.”

“Should have read the fine print.”

“Should have, yes.” You lean forward, fold yourself in a way that’s making your back ache, but now you’re face to face with him, able to press a kiss to his nose. 

“Now you’re mine.”

He smiles, unable to keep up the pout, ducking his face behind his long hair.

“‘m yours.”

My Kofi if you want to tip me

#my writing #kenma x reader #kenma kozume #kenma #kenma fluff #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x you #haikyuu drable #haikyuu x reader

[kissforyouu]

making a sanrio bento box for your boyfriend ! ♡

pairing : jungkook x sanrio girl!oc

genre : fluff

a/n : happy new year!! hope you guys have a wonderful year ahead ❤️

i wanna know, know, know, know,

what is love?! ♡ !! (๛ ˘ ³˘)۶

you were so excited. so excited that you could run a marathon, have a dance battle, binge watch 10 dramas and study a whole semester in one night. you have all the energy in the world right now.

for the past 2 weeks, all you've been seeing on the tiktok is women making cute little bento boxes for their partners. and you just KNEW that you had to make one for your boyfriend. it's a must. they looked so freaking out your heart literally fluttered at the mere thought of making one for your boyfriend and seeing his reaction.

so now here you were, in front of your kitchen island, preparing your boyfriend's lunch box. the box was just plain steel (boring!) with no design or anything else. it suits jungkook. but you were gonna personalise it according to your likings. you don't think jungkook would get mad anyways. he'd find it rather cute.

currently, you were placing all the tiny fried shrimp in the lunchbox, also making sure to pin cute hello kitty and flower toothpicks on it. you also put a little mini container with some sauce in. for the main proportion, you decided to just make a cute hello kitty sandwich. truth is, jungkook was just going to his aunt's house to see his little cousin. a lunch box wasn't even necessary, but you wanted to do it anyway. you made sure to make it look extra cute so that jungkook's cousins would want a bite too!

closing the sandwich and placing it inside, you also sprinkle some rainbow sprinkles around the sandwich. oh my god, so cute! (you want to eat it now)

the lunchbox was turning out pretty cute and really really pretty. there were flower shaped dragon fruit inside alongside another small container of sprinkles and raspberries.

you're having so much fun by just cutting these fruits into little shapes.

"AH!" you let out a big scream, you're startled. obviously there's only one culprit. jungkook. he pinched your waist.

"baby, what is wrong with you?" you send him a small glare, turning back to continue your work.

"what's this?" jungkook takes a step further to stand next to you, his head hovering over yours to look at the food.

"ugh, i wanted to surprise you with this." you pout, leaning your head towards jungkook's shoulders. he snorts, humming.

"it's fine, i like seeing you cook anyway."

"it's already cooked! i'm just putting it all together!" you whine, completely annoyed by his sudden appearance.

"tssk, come on, baby." jungkook leans forward to rest his forearms on the table, head turned to you. he tries to sneakily sneak a piece of dragon fruit in his mouth but fails. laughing out, he still munches on the fruit, making your eyebrows frown.

"jungkook! you're so annoying!" your lips formed to a big fat pout, eyebrows raised as you playfully slapped jungkook's back.

it was clear to jungkook that you just wanted to surprise him with the bento box and that he ruined all of your plans by checking on you. but it was so cute. he was watching you from afar earlier, finding it completely endearing and adorable how you were so focused and just in your little bubble. he was so in love.

"no, you love me." he teases back.

"no, i hate you. you're a very annoying man." you roll your eyes, going back to your work while jungkook snickers.

"that's not what you say in bed though. oh my god, jungkook! i'm yours! i wanna cum!" he snickers.

"hey!" you slap his back again. jungkook dramatically clutches his heart, making exaggerated noises. "don't do that." you glare.

"yes, ma'am."

he couldn't help but smile, enjoying this sweet moment to the fullest. for the rest of the time, jungkook stays fully quiet, just letting you have your fun meanwhile he's just admiring you. here and there, he would sneak his arm around your waist to tickle you a little and make you shriek or rub your ass a little.

currently, he had his chin on your shoulder, arms on each side of you on the table. you were taking an awfully long time finishing off this little lunchbox.

"done yet?" he groans. you hum a small no. jungkook whines back.

"i'm finishing off the last bit, wait."

jungkook nods, letting go of your body and sitting on the table instead, right next to the lunchbox.

"you look so pretty." he coos, the tip of his toes poking your waist.

"ew! get your dogs away, jungkook!" you can't help but giggle as you poke his feet.

"no, they wanna touch you. my toes love you sooo much."

"ewwww, i didn't know you liked feet!" you laugh.

"yeah? wanna try it out next time?" he jokes.

"no! what the fuck?! that's nasty!" your face turns sour, vigoursly shaking your head from side to side.

"joking! joking!" he pokes his tongue out.

"very funny. but anyways, i'm done." you hold out cute bento box for him to see with a bright smile on your face.

jungkook giggles, jumping off the table and bringing you into a hug. you place the bento box on the table and hug him back, letting the big man make you completely disappear in his embrace.

"thank you, i love you." he kisses the side of your head, then temple.

"hey!" you grab the collar of his hoodie before he pulls away, then point at your lips.

he scrunches his nose in reaction to your actions, "of course."

your body pulls you closer by holding your face with both his hands, connecting your lips for a sweet kiss.

"oh my god, i forgot something!" you mumble in the middle of the kiss. jungkook pulls away, letting you wander off to wherever again. you run to your room, pulling out one of your pink sticky notes and a pen.

"what're you doing?" your boyfriend trails behind you, curious to see what you were doing.

"i'm writing you a note."

"lemme see." he places his hands on your hips to have a peek but you quickly shoo him away.

"read it when you eat it."

"but—"

"anyways, i'm done." you interrupt the poor man. he opens his mouth to say something, but stops. instead, he ruffles your hair.

once you're done assembling everything together, and also folding the sticky paper and making a heart out of it, you wrap everything in a serviette and hand it over to jungkook.

"okay, byebye. eat it with your cousin, okay? tell him i missed him!" you pat his cheek.

"of course, baby. bye, i love you." he kisses your lips one more time with a small squeeze to your waist.

-‘๑’-

"kookie!" jungkook's cousin jumps on his back, super excited that his very much older brother is back to see him again.

"hey, buddy!" he squeezes him in his embrace, delivering a small kiss to the child's cheek.

"you wanna eat something?" he playfully punches the kid in the stomach.

"yeah!"

"you remember y/n? she made this for us. you know, she told me to tell you that she missed you."

"yes, kookie! the pretty lady you brought with you." the tips of the little boy's ears turn into a deep shade of pink at the thought of you. once jungkook notices this, he laughs, pinching the little boy's ear.

"you like her?"

"y‐yeah..." he shyly admits.

"okay, i'll bring her with me next time, hm?"

the kid's eyes instantly lit up as he excitedly jumps up, arms in the air.

"let's eat this for now."

the little note you wrote had been in jungkook's mind the entire ride and he's so eager to finally open the food up and read what you wrote. sure, it was just a small note. but jungkook loved these kind of things. it was the little actions that mattered the most to him. he loved it whenever you showed your love through little things like this. it was so much more than just little for him.

once the little starts to happily munch of some of the fruit, jungkook quickly picks up the little note. he carefully opens it up, excited. it amazed him how he would get excited over the smallest things you'd do.

once he reads the notes, he swears he's never been more in love. there's a big fat smile on his face.

✉⤷ you're the only one for me. ♡

-‘๑’-

taglist : @fungie2332 @wintertxt @wheexine @hyunjinswifeee @ohsweetmimosa @canyon-lwt

#jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x oc #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #bts #bts jk #jungkook fluff #bts fluff #fluff #kpop #jungkook x you

[kaciidubs]

Kaciii I know someone sent sungie and jinnie in skirts buttt, what about poly! Skz with you seungie, sungie, lixie, and jinnie in skirts and tail plugs I would melttt.

Oh, I'm absolutely melting and foaming at this thought, Nonnie! ❣ Warnings; Sub Poly! Hyunjin, Jisung, Felix, and Seungmin, Fem Dom! Reader, slight feminization, pet play, mommy kink, hint of a foot kink ❣ Additional tags; Usual pet names, Jisung is referred to as Sungie and Seungmin is referred to as Minnie for ease of reading, Reader is referred to as Jagi, Mommy, Miss/Ma'am Previous: Hyunjin and Jisung + Skirts

Play Time [Pretty Puppy, Pretty Kitties]

Having the free time to schedule a play date involving two of your boyfriends was a trial to say the least, but having the grace of gathering all four for one full night of play was a feat only the best could pull off.

Luckily for you, you were the best.

It always started out the same; laying out blankets, rearranging some furniture, and gathering all of the necessary toys for the night, before your pets came to run amok - under your rules, of course.

Hyunjin, your pretty kitty, elegant white tail plug and fuzzy ears to match, was sitting at your feet with sultry, yearning eyes.

"You look like you want something, Hyune," you hum softly, gently twisting a stand of his jet black hair around your finger, "mind telling me what it is?"

"You, Miss." His response came fast and easy, never the one for beating around the bush when it came to his desires.

"Me? My precious prince, you know play time is meant for everyone, right? Why don't you go play with them for a little bit?"

His simmering gaze turned into a soft pout as he looked longingly toward your other partners and you followed suit, easily realizing why he sought you out first.

Jisung, the calico kitten dressed in a baby doll tank top and pastel pink skirt, was eagerly watching the remaining two of your pets happily play fighting each other; Felix, your excitable orange tabby kitten, wrestling with Seungmin, the lone golden retriever puppy among your kitten group.

There was already a dynamic at play, and Hyunjin resigned himself to taking, potentially, the easy way out.

"Oh, my poor baby," cooing in played up pity, you nudged your sock covered foot against the obvious bulge of his purple skirt, "You just need someone to give you attention, is that it?" When his eyelids fluttered from the welcome stimulation, you smirked, "Alright, sweet prince, I've got you. Sungie, can you come here, kitten?"

At the sound of his name, Jisung crawled over to you before nudging your leg with his face, peering up at you with doe eyes.

"Yes, Jagi?"

"It seems like our precious Hyune feels a bit left out..." Leaning down, you danced your fingers down the line of his jaw before pulling his pink bottom lip down with your thumb, watching as it bounced back into place. "Can you play with him, for me? Give him the love he deserves?"

Nodding with no hesitation, the small bells on his cat ears jingled from the motion, "Y-Yes, I will!"

Just as you went to praise him for his obedience, a sharp cry reached your ears and you looked up to see Felix at the will of Seungmin yet again; the puppy pinning him down and nipping at his sensitive skin.

"Minnie! No biting!"

Felix let out a whined moan at a particularly sharp bite, turning his head to look at you with glistening eyes - though, the pleasure flushing his face was unmistakable. "Mommy!"

Scoffing out a laugh, Seungmin glanced at you with the fire of challenge burning behind his eyes - ever the daring puppy to test your patience. "But he likes it, look at him!"

Of course, you knew he liked it without needing further proof, yet your eyes trailed down their lithe bodies to see Felix's white skirt flipped up from the roughhousing and his dick solid and leaking against his thigh. You could also make out the sight of Seungmin's own length poking the fabric of his blue plaid skirt, equally as excited from the push and pull of their little dominance match that he never failed to win.

Coming back to your nerves, you pinned him with a warning glare, "Did I ask if he enjoyed it?"

Conceding with a smirk, he shook his head, the sliver tag of his collar catching the light with the movement, "No, Ma'am."

"Okay, then. Don't make me have to turn this into a punishment." turning your attention to your orange kitten, your gaze softened, "Lixie, honey? You okay?"

He nodded quickly, "'M okay, I- I just want more."

Humming in understanding, you looked back to the previous pair to see Hyunjin on his back, airy moans falling from his plump lips while Jisung's head was partially covered by his skirt - though, judging by the not-so-subtle sucking sounds, you could guess what exactly was happening.

"It's okay, baby, we're about to get into the real fun pretty soon."

[unedited]

#✧. ┊ kacii answers #skz smut #stray kids smut #hwang hyunjin smut #han jisung smut #lee felix smut #kim seungmin smut #hwang hyunjin x reader #han jisung x reader #lee felix x reader #kim seungmin x reader

[loving-barnes]

LOGAN HOWLETT - BAR

A/N: It took me some time, but here we go again. Chapter Seven, my friends. Just something stupid, fun.

Pairing: Logan Howlett x mutant female reader

Warning: none

Summary: It's a fun night out at a bar.

Please, do not read if you are under 18. This story is suitable for mature audience.

Words: 3300+

Important note: Again, Logan is a tall MF, because they fucked up in the movies. Also, Hugh Jackman!Wolverine. This is set in AU.

A TOUCH OF HOPE MASTERLIST | Chapter Six

LOGAN HOWLETT - BAR

Y/N stood in front of the mirror, looking at her reflection. When was the last time she dressed up and put on make-up? She couldn’t recognise herself in the mirror. Since she came to the school, she would wear simple outfits and almost any make-up. Tonight, she wanted to look nice and make an impression on the people. Hell, she desired to catch Logan’s eyes. Honestly, she would catch his eyes even without all those things.

White blouse, dark blue jeans, black combat boots and a black leather jacket - this was her style. She put her hair into a high ponytail. Y/N couldn’t help but smile at herself in the mirror. It felt like lifetimes since she felt this confident and sexy. Damn, even the drawn cat-eye looked good. 

She winked at herself in the mirror and then glanced at her phone. Yes, they’d given her a phone. It was time to head out. She put it into the back pocket of her jeans. Before leaving, she had to check herself one more time just to be sure everything was perfect. 

To her surprise, she didn’t see any familiar faces. Usually, the students would walk around the school at this hour and hang out. Some noises came from the kitchen or the TV room. She didn’t recognise JJ’s voice. Maybe he was in his room.

Y/N made a mental note to spend more time with the boy. She didn’t keep her promise when she told him she’d come to him before the accident happened. 

“Well, look at you,” said a voice beside her. 

Y/N jumped, gasping. She was ready to hit the man in his face. “Jesus, Peter,” she glared at him. “You scared me, you ass,” she punched him in the shoulder. He could have easily dodged it, but he decided to not use his ability and laughed it off. 

“You get scared easily, Y/N. You should work on that,” he winked at her. “Can I walk with you?” he raised a brow. 

“You already are, so why ask?” she grinned at him. 

They walked out of the school and headed to the main entrance gate. Peter kept his hands behind his back. He had silver aviator goggles on top of his head that matched his silver jacket. “So, Y/N, what is your weirdness? You know about mine. I want to know about yours.” 

That made her laugh. “Nice way of saying it. I have, uh, protective abilities?” 

“You ask, or you know?” 

She glared at him playfully. “I know. I wasn’t sure if that description was correct. Let me put it this way - I can create and manipulate forcefields.” 

“Nice.” That was his only comment. “So, you have a codename?” 

“What?” she raised a brow. 

“You know, like Scott is Cyclops. Logan is Wolverine. I am Quicksilver,” he explained. “Do you have any name you go by?” 

Wheels were turning inside her head. “No,” she said. “I never thought about it, actually. Do I need one?” Was it necessary to have a codename? Holy shit, Logan was called the Wolverine? She could see why. It suited him well. 

“That’s up to you, I guess.  Okay, changing the topic - how long have you been here?” 

“Over a month,” she replied. “It’s been a hell of a ride. What about you?” 

He thought about it. “It’s been over a decade. I love this place, to be honest.” 

They slowly approached the main gate. They could see some people standing there, talking. Y/N was sure Logan was not there. “You took a break or something?” 

Peter nodded. “I needed some time off. It was all overwhelming. Charles granted me a lengthy vacation. I took a break, travelled the States, and here I am, ready to work again.”

Storm, Kitty and Kurt were the first three there, chatting. Y/N felt some excitement building inside of her. It was nice being a part of something bigger and better. Both Storm and Kitty were great women and friends. Were they friends? God, she hoped so. The last three to arrive were Bobby, Logan and Rogue. Rogue and Logan were squabbling. She couldn’t hear what it was about until she heard: “Let it fucking go, Rogue.” 

She had to chuckle. What got Logan so worked up? 

“Let’s fucking go, people,” Peter called them.

Thus, a thirty-minute walk to the bar started. Rogue linked arms with Y/N, and they walked ahead of everyone. Her arms were covered with gloves that hid under the denim jacket. That way, she could touch the other woman without fear of hurting her.

“Isn’t it annoying?” Y/N asked her. 

“The gloves? Yes, a little bit. Luckily, I can touch Remy without them,” she said with a smile. “He’s the only person that I won’t hurt. I don’t know how it is possible, but I don’t care. What matters is that I can touch the person I love.” 

“What if you subconsciously learnt to not hurt him?” Y/N thought out loud. “I can shut my brain from the Professor. I don’t know how, but I do it. Well, I might have already figured it out.”

They talked together the entire way to the bar. Rogue wouldn’t let anyone speak to Y/N. She wanted to have her for herself and get to know the woman better. 

Y/N felt a pair of eyes on her back the whole time. She suppressed the urge to turn around and look at Logan. She was more than sure it was him staring at her. It kept happening until they arrived at the empty bar. 

It looked like an old dive bar. Country music was playing in the background. An older-looking man was standing behind the bar, cleaning glasses. He had short white hair and glasses on his nose. When his grey eyes found a group of mutants at the door, he smiled. 

“Welcome, friends,” he greeted them with a raspy voice. “I was wondering when I will see you again. Come, sit. Ah, I see a new face here,” his lips crooked into a smile. 

Rogue grabbed Y/N by the shoulder and brought her closer to the man. “This is Y/N,” she said happily. “She’s been with us for some time now.” 

“Nice to meet you,” said Y/N, shaking hands with the man. 

“What can I get you, sweetheart?” he asked. 

“A beer would be nice, thank you,” she replied with a smile. They told her the owner was a mutant. What was his mutation? 

Rogue took her to the table where the rest of the people were seated. Y/N sat next to Storm, right opposite Logan. Rogue sat by the man’s side. 

It felt like a friendly gathering. The atmosphere was inviting. It’s been years since Y/N felt safe in a group. They were all like her, unique and not criminals. When Y/N’s eyes travelled around the table, her soul got warmer and relaxed. A gentle smile appeared on her face. She listened to Bobby talk about his day. The teens got on his nerves today. 

“In case you haven’t heard,” Storm interrupted him. “Y/N will become the newest English and Literature teacher.” 

“No kidding!” Rogue shouted excitedly. “Why didn’t you tell me?” 

All eyes were on her now. “I asked the Professor today,” she explained. “I don’t know. I simply didn’t. I kind of forgot, I guess.” 

“Another smartass,” Logan commented. 

“Aren’t you one, too?” Y/N glared at him, her lips turning into a grin. “Listen, I asked if he’d need an English teacher, and Charles said yes. I’m glad that I would be able to repay him at least a little.” 

The bartender brought them a tray of beers. They all grabbed one. Y/N put the drink to her lips and took a sip. Then another one. Before she knew it, she drank the whole glass in one go. She burped a little and smiled. “Damn, that was a good beer.” When her eyes lifted from the empty glass, everyone stared at her. Some had their mouths open, and others were impressed. “What? It’s been years.” 

“You’ll be out before you know it,” Bobby warned her. “Be careful.” 

“So,” Rogue clapped her hands. It got everyone’s attention. “Since we are all here, let’s get more information about Y/N.” 

“Oh, no,” Y/N hid her face in her hands.

“Oh, come on, Y/N,” Storm nudged her shoulder. “We want to know everything about you. Let’s start with the basics. Tell us something interesting about yourself. For example, I like gardening.” 

Y/N peeked at Storm, raising a brow. “That’s quite shocking. I could never picture you in a garden, on your knees and covered in dirt.” 

“The more you know. Now, it’s your turn.” 

“Ah,” Y/N sighed and thought about her life. “I used to attend guitar lessons,” she said after a while. “My parents made me take guitar lessons. That was years ago. I don’t think I remember anything.” 

“At least someone who’s not tone-deaf,” Peter commented. “I can’t listen to some of you singing off-key.” 

“I’m saying I played the guitar, not that I can sing,” Y/N corrected him. 

“It’s still the same,” Peter shrugged. 

“Anything else?” Storm asked. 

Y/N’s eyes moved around the place. She found darts and a pool table farther away. “Nothing is interesting about me,” she said. “I’m going to get another beer. Anyone want anything else?” she asked them. 

Y/N’s eyes fell on Logan’s empty glass, and she raised a brow. Their eyes locked. It was a silent plea to save her from the interrogation. “I’ll go with you,” he said. 

They walked from the table and straight to the bar. Logan ordered them more beer. He leaned against the wooden counter, elbows resting on it. “Everyone is curious about you,” he commented. 

“I hate that,” she sighed. “It’s like going to a confession. They all get information, and I get nothing out of it. It makes me nervous. I feel like the least interesting person here.” She turned her body to him. “Back in the day, when I started high school, this was a nightmare. People wanted to know everything to convince themselves that their lives were more interesting than others.” 

Logan’s eyes travelled around her body until they landed back on her face. “True,” he shrugged. “But here, people are genuinely curious and want to know you. You are part of the team, you know?” 

“It feels forced,” said Y/N. 

The bartender handed them beers, and he winked at Y/N. She chuckled at that. He wasn’t too discreet about the flirting. Then again, she didn’t mind. 

Her eyes landed on the pool table again. “Listen. Do you want to play?” she pointed with her head. 

Logan turned to look at it and then back at her, smirking. “Not only do you want me to kick your ass during training. You also want to lose playing pool?” 

“Is that a threat I hear in your voice? I will beat you,” she threatened with a finger.

“Only one way to find out, princess,” he grabbed his beer. “We’ll have a game, Stan,” Logan said to the bartender. 

Storm and Kitty watched them walk around the pool table and play. They both had grins on their faces, squabbling here and there. “They are so blind,” Kitty whispered to Storm.

“Let them have this dance,” Storm whispered back. “Five bucks, they’ll end up together by the end of the month.” 

“I’m giving them a week,” Bobby joined on the bet. 

Y/N held the billiard cue tightly in her hand. Logan was the one who started the game. They flipped a coin, and he won. Logan got himself solids while Y/N remained with the stripes. When he screwed up his move, it was time for her to play. The last time she played pool was years ago. It was a game she wasn’t able to master. All she could do was to try and have a good time. 

She sank one of her balls and moved to another one. She leaned over the table, placed the cue on the table and focused. There weren’t any good shots for her. Therefore, she had to play something and try. 

Logan stood next to her and laughed. “Your stance is wrong,” he said. He reached for her hand and brought it higher on the cue. 

His body was oh so close to her, and Y/N forgot how to breathe. She could smell the cigars, a heavy man’s cologne and something musky. When he pulled away, his hand brushed against her lower back. It made her hit a ball that sank one of his solid balls. “Shit,” she cursed. 

Logan’s howling laughter echoed around the bar. “You really want me to win, princess.” 

“You are distracting me,” she frowned at him when she straightened her stance. She reached for her beer and drank from it. 

Her eyes were stalking him, watching his every move. When did he light up a cigar? He held it between his lips while he played his turn. Y/N huffed. She took off her leather jacket and threw it on the nearest chair. Then, she fixed her blouse and popped open the highest button to show some cleavage. If he could distract, so could she. 

He sank two other balls when the third try was unsuccessful. “Fuck,” he growled. 

Y/N snickered. She walked to the table and scanned her stripes. This round sucked. There was nothing good to play. She sat at the edge and held the cue behind her back. 

“You won’t be able to make it,” Logan stared at the scene. “It’s a difficult move, kid.” 

Y/N exhaled and hit the red stripe ball perfectly. “Ha!” she shouted happily when the ball sank. “Did you see that?” 

Logan smiled at her and rolled his eyes. “Go on, it’s still your turn,” he goaded her. “Show me what else you can do.” He took a drag of the cigar.

Y/N felt confident. Even though she was three balls behind, she started to believe she could win. She gave him a smug face as she walked around the table, trying to find another good shot. It was all fun and games. When she brushed past him, Logan wanted to grab her by the neck and bring her lips to his. He only took a deep breath and pushed the thoughts away. 

Y/N leaned over the table and hovered the cue on the table. There was one ball that had the potential of being taken down. She took a deep breath. Again, Y/N felt Logan’s eyes on her body. She started burning up. With this knowledge, she hit the white ball, and with some dumb luck, she managed to sink the black eight ball. 

“No!” she shouted, horrified. 

Logan’s roaring laughter brought everyone’s attention. “Holy shit,” he placed a hand on his belly. “You did not!”

Y/N leaned against a wall and hid her head in her arms. “What the fuck was that?!” she shouted, pissed. 

Laughter came from the table where the rest of the people sat. They saw what happened. “Oh, Y/N, no,” Kitty gasped, laughing. 

“I’m never playing this dumb game again,” Y/N made a dramatic announcement. “Oh my god,” she pushed from the wall and turned around. She noticed all eyes on her. “Listen,” she blushed. “I am talented. I am the best there is. I should stick to drinking,” she said ironically. 

“Hey, hey,” Logan walked to her and put his hand on her shoulder, squeezing it. “If you’d like, I can also kick your ass while playing darts,” he teased. 

She glared at him. “Very funny,” she shook off his hand and went to get her beer. “I will kick your ass when we have the next training session,” she threatened. Once she got to her beer, she went back to him. “I will find a way to burn all your clothes.”

Logan tilted his head and grinned. “If you want to see me without clothes, all you need to do is ask.” 

“Is that a challenge?” she looked into his eyes and wiggled her eyebrows. “Think twice, or you might regret it.” And then, she drank the rest of her second beer in one go. “Refill?” 

He snorted. “You’ll get drunk, princess.” 

“Well, you only live once, right?” she shrugged and walked to the bar to order another beer. 

The rest of the night went smoothly. Everyone talked and laughed. Y/N wasn’t interrogated as she was at the very beginning. Bobby told her about the students and what to expect from them. Kitty added some of her funniest memories and challenges as a teacher. Storm included what to do when the school is under attack.

“It happens,” she said. “Not often, but at least once a year.” 

Before they knew it, Y/N was on her fifth beer and feeling it. Her face was burning, the world spinning, and she could feel it in her veins. Her voice got louder, and words went flying out of her mouth.

“I love my life,” Y/N said out of nowhere. Some giggles spread around. “Everything’s good, you know? I have a place to sleep, food to eat, and amazing friends,” she said with a wide smile. “I fucking hope we are friends.”

“Of course we are,” Bobby nodded.

“No more beer for you, young lady,” said Peter. “By the way, how is it possible to get drunk from beer?” 

She took a big, dramatic breath. “Let me tell you a short story, my friend. When you are locked up for years, barely able to eat and an involuntary abstainer, you can get drunk easily.” 

More laughter followed. “Take it easy, girl,” Storm patted her shoulder. 

Y/N stood up from their table. “I’m going outside to take a breather and clear my head.” She tripped over her feet but managed to stand tall. “It’s the floors,” she blamed it. 

The midnight air was cold. Y/N walked outside without her leather jacket. She wrapped her arms around herself and closed her eyes. Getting drunk was not the plan. On the other hand, the beer tasted good. It eased her nerves. Walking around Logan got easier the more she drank. That fucker was such a tease. 

Y/N let her hair loose and put the elastic band between her fingers. She let her hair fall over her shoulders and face. 

How would his lips feel against mine? Where did that question come from? Her mind was racing miles. All she could see was Logan’s face and those lips she wanted to taste. She shook her head to get rid of those thoughts. 

“You okay, kid?” 

She sighed. Of course, Logan would be the first one to check up on her. It was nice. But it brought back all those impure thoughts. 

“I’d like another beer,” she said to him. 

“Go get some. But I’m warning ya, I’m not the one carrying ya back to the school.” 

“I’m not asking you to,” Y/N winked at him. When she took a step, she almost tripped again. Sighing, she said, “Seriously, what is with the floor?” 

“Y/N, you are drunk,” said Logan. “The floor is fine. Also, you are outside, so there is ground under your feet. I think it’s time to go back to school.” 

“You are right,” she nodded and yawned. “I’m going to get my jacket. I’ll head back to school. You guys have fun.” Y/N wanted to walk inside to get her belongings. However, Logan stopped her. Y/N was about to protest, but she noticed he already had her jacket. “How did you get that? You are not the one who can run fast. That’s Peter.” 

Logan was a bit annoyed when she mentioned his name. He put the jacket around her shoulders. “Come on, princess. Let’s get ya home.” 

“You are coming with me?” she looked up at him, confused. “Why?”

“You think I’m letting you walk there alone in this state? Come on, Y/N, I’m not leaving you when you are drunk and barely able to walk on your own.” 

A bright smile appeared on her face. “Aw, you are my knight in shining armour,” she sang. 

#Logan Howlett x reader #Logan Howlett #Logan Howlett x female reader #Wolverine #Wolverine x reader #Wolverine x female reader #x-men #x-men fanfiction #marvel fanfiction

[kairiscorner]

˗ˏˋ ✮ kairi's AUtober !

day 3: single dad miguel o'hara

a big, busy man with round, dark red sunglasses came to your daycare looking a bit awkward, darting his head from both sides, seeing all the daycare caretakers and parents with their kids; hearing the sounds of joyful laughter, tantrums, crying, and kids just being kids. he approached you by the counter, holding his toddler in his arms; the toddler played with his hair and giggled as she did, while the man himself showed no visible emotions to her touch. "excuse me," he muttered underneath his breath as he looked at you from underneath his dark red sunglasses, his dark, curly hair draping over his forehead and brushing over it as he tried to level with you to speak with you.

you turned around and smiled up at him, looking over at his young daughter who was twirling his hair with her tiny hand. "yes, sir? how may i help you?" you asked him as he took his daughter away from his hair and cooed to her in a soft, soothing whisper. "i'd like to leave my daughter here at the daycare, just for a few hours." he told you as his daughter babbled and stuck her tongue out up at her dad. you nodded, your smile not leaving your face as you looked at the two of them and scoured under the desk for a sign-up sheet he were to fill up.

"ay, briella, mija, don't chew on papà's glasses; he needs these." he gently chided his toddler as he took the glasses away from her little hands that she managed to sneak from under (or over, rather) his nose. you giggled a little at their shenanigans and got back to the man with a form; you directed him where to sign, explaining the vital terms and conditions, with him humming and nodding in understanding, while he cradled his little girl in his arms and snuck kisses on the top of her head. "thanks," he told you as he began to sign away, still clutching on to his daughter with one arm and writing and signing away a storm with his other arm. you noted that the man was... very built, his polo shirt's sleeves weren't helping you redirect your attention towards other matters, because they looked as if they were on the brink of popping if he moved another muscle.

as he signed away, his daughter made eye contact with you; you noticed her big, beautiful dark brown eyes and the way her little lips curved into a smile as she giggled when she looked at you. you giggled in return and made a silly face, delighting the little one even more; you entertained the little girl as her father signed the papers and handed them to you, though he caught you in the middle of doing an impersonation of elmo or some other character, while his daughter giggled and laughed even louder. he gave a slight smile at you and raised an eyebrow.

"was that... kermit?" he asked you, making you feel shy as you tried to explain who you were really impersonating to him. "hah, i see, well... it's quite cute. made my little girl laugh, so, i like it; care to teach me how to do that? it's like the only characters i can impersonate are... the beast from that one disney princess movie, and the big blue spotty monster from that other disney movie." "oh, the beast from beauty and the beast and sully from monsters inc?" you chimed in, making him nod slowly and chuckle again. "yeah, yeah, those guys; you really know your stuff. briella keeps calling me 'kitty', and i always have to correct her that i'm not 'kitty' i'm 'papà'." he rambled, gushing about his beloved daughter.

you smiled at his little anecdote, and when you got the form back from him, you quickly skimmed through it. his name? you made sure every necessary information box and blank was filled out: miguel o'hara. occupation? a geneticist at alchemax corporation, and then some. he seemed to be okay and accounted for, but then something caught your eye... 'marital status: single.'

your eyes practically popped out of their sockets and your mouth must've made a noise when it hit the core of the earth, because—

"how on earth is such a perfect man and dad single?"

"excuse me?"

...

you stuttered out your apologies, trying to explain that you didn't really mean anything bad nor negative by it, you were just... shocked, but why would you be shocked? 'it's none of my business, shit, that was so insensitive of me...' you thought to yourself all anxiously and ashamed, but instead of getting angry, miguel smiled at you and reassured you as you freaked out over your little comment. "it's fine, it's fine—i kinda get that a lot, though, really. don't worry, i don't take offense in it anymore." he tells you as you slowly begin to calm down and compose yourself. "sorry, sir, i just... i was so surprised." "at the fact i'm single?" he asks you with an eyebrow raise. you look him up and down, and at the button near his chest that was on the brink of popping open. you felt yourself grow flustered, and all of a sudden, your mouth moved faster than your brain—

"yes."

and that little comment made him burst out laughing.

this intimidating man who had a terrifying poker face and looks like he could kill you in a matter of seconds was laughing at your honest answer for your surprise. "i was just kidding, but, seriously? you're surprised that i'm single?" he asked you, bewildered that you were actually serious, while you were bewildered at him not realizing how much of a catch he was. he chuckled as he held his daughter closer with his one arm, and extended to you the other one. "let's start over, i'm o'hara, miguel o'hara." he introduced himself to you properly as you took his hand in yours and gave him your name, shaking his hand as he smiled wider. "well, i'd like to leave my daughter, gabriella, here in your daycare's care for a few hours. but a part of me is kinda wanting to stay now." he admitted, with you raising an eyebrow and grinning. "why's that?" you asked him as he gazed back at you and chuckled, shrugging as he held his daughter's tiny hand in his own. "because i'd... like to get to know this sweet person in front of me even more. maybe get to know if... you're single, too? if you are..." he trailed off as he smirked at you and looked at you underneath his dark red sunglasses, and you swore he gave a wink at you from underneath, paralyzing you in your place as you fell for his charms. "...i can fix that for you."

before you could say anything, miguel then kissed his daughter's cheek and blew a raspberry into her cheek; making her squeal as miguel entered the 'loving, silly dad' mode and played with her—making your heart soar as you watched this beautiful man act like the perfect role model and father. he really was a catch, and, if he meant what he said... would you maybe give him a chance?

tags !! @miguelswifey04 @hearts4gabri @hisachuu @wreakingmarveloushavok @fictarian @yuridopted0 @simsrandomstuff @luvstarrstruck @popeheywardssecretgf @meeom @arachnoia @melovetitties @fable-library @ophanimgold @smokeywhalee @capnshtfce

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara imagines #miguel o'hara fluff #spiderman 2099 #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 fanfiction #atsv #atsv x reader #atsv x y/n #atsv fluff #atsv fanfiction #spiderverse #across the spiderverse #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman across the spiderverse x reader #spiderman across the spiderverse fluff #spiderman across the spiderverse fanfiction

[wasteofbandagesxx]

Fucking freak

{Dazai x reader}

You hate Dazai so much, you just wish he was dead. You two don't get along well, it was like a love hate relationship between you two. There was a time you both got drunk and fucked in a bed together, it was one of the biggest mistakes of your life. There are also times where you guys are nice to each other, sometimes too nice. You hated it, It disgusted you so much you wanted to die and never see his face again. He's a pain in the ass, calling you nicknames, asking you to commit double suicide with him, acting as if your a couple, he annoys you all the time and you can't stand it. Sometimes, Dazai would send you love letters and flowers during work, most times he would just send you letters about how much he hates you and straight up insults you.

You both work in different organizations, Dazai works in the armed detective agency while you work for the Port Mafia. Two people in opposite organizations, having them be in love just sounds ridiculous. Chuuya is your best friend and you both get drunk and talk about how much you hate that piece of shit. Sometimes you both get a little tipsy and end up having sex, you guys are best friends and fuck buddies. Sure it sounds stupid, but it is what it is. Your not complaining though, Chuuya was good at fucking and you did have a crush on him before you became one of the executives. Not only have you fallen for Chuuya though, you also had feelings for Dazai, it's confusing to you but you just decide to not pay much attention to it. Everytime you get a love note, Chuuya would snatch it out of your hands and read it before tearing it to shreds. Chuuya wasn't going to let you be with some bandage wasting fuck, a womanizer that's fucked in the head. Poor Chuuya worries about you too much whenever your with that bandaged freak, he's not allowed to kill him though because Mori has an obsession with Dazai for a reason. Dazai was a valuable asset to him, like father like son, they are both alike, except Dazai is more stupid. You and Chuuya share an apartment together, it was Chuuya's idea of course and you gladly accepted it. Despite how close you two are, you could never get your mind off that bandaged freak and it pisses you off.

Anyway, here you are, drinking until you get wasted. You were having a hard day at work, so you took some of Chuuyas money and booked it to the Lupus bar. It was so calming, especially with the mysterious cat around that seemed wise and friendly. You drank and drank, one cup after another until you couldn't see straight. The cat sat by you the whole time and nuzzles your side with the top of his head, trying to comfort you. You giggled at his cuteness and gave him a pat on the head. "Thanks kitty, but I'm alright." You reassured it. The cat suddenly turned his head fast at a different direction, something was heading your way. The cat jumped off the stool and pranced away, leaving you all by your lonesome. "Heyy there Y/n~ been a while huh?" Dazai sat down dramatically and stole your drink, taking a big sip from it. "You really are a bitch you know that?" You took out a cigarette and lit it up before buffing smoke in his face. "Was that really necessary?" He asked while coughing and fanning the smoke awake, you responded with a small "yes" and exhaled the rest of the smoke you just inhaled. You guys began to have a conversation, it went on and on while the cat watches you too from afar.

"No fuckinf way, really?" "Yea, I put a bomb under Chuuya's car before I left, it was so funny. That night, Chuuya claims he drank a big bottle in celebration because I left. No doubt he passed out after taking 4 drinks from that bottle." You both were having a laugh, talking about the past. The past wasn't that bad, it was kinda funny whenever u got to see Chuuya and Dazai messing around.

As you were in the middle of thinking, he stole your cigarette and took a puff out of it. "You are a bitch." You said as you snatched it back, earning a whine from him. "C'mon Y/n, sharing is caring!!" Dazai whines as he tries to take the cigarette from you again. You pushed him away and took another puff from the cigarette before blowing it In his face again. "Yea yea whatever." You scoffed and took a sip of your drink. "There's going to be a festival tomorrow night. I have no one to go with." Dazai said kinda flatly, as if he was upset about being lonely. "Pfft, not surprised. Who would want to go with you?" "Hey!!" You laughed at his pouty face and almost chocked on the smoke you were inhaling. "Yeah, I have no one to go with to the festival...so, I was wondering if you could go with me?." He asked, surprising you and making you choke on smoke yet again. "Excuse me? Are you asking me on a date?" You laughed nervously. "I am. So, is that a yes?" You didn't know what to say. You didn't hate the man that much, but you weren't sure if you wanted to relive the past again, you two were in a relationship back then. "I'll think about it." You said as you got up, taking your jacket with you. "Yayy!! And if you say yes, we could commit double suicide after the festival!!" Dazai said cheerfully and took a big gulp of your drink that you left on the counter." You shook your head and walked away from the man, leaving the bar.

"Fucking freak"

#anime #anime and manga #bsd x you #bungou stray dogs #bsd #fanfic #fyp #bsd dazai #dazai osamu #dazai x reader #chuuya nakahara #chuuya x reader

[imaginedreamwrite]

I can see hr reader and Steve both being huge stationary nerds. Like ohhh look at that notepad with a little kitty or at this really cool fountain pen. Do they ever get each other stationary as a little surprise?

He doesn’t bother knocking, none of them do and that’s just another small tick on the docket of things that annoy you. Though the annoyance feels more akin to playful banter and endearing flirtation, you still find the occasion to sigh as if its some great weight upon your shoulders.

And still, your annoyance is quick to fade.

Its easy to find yourself replacing annoyance with mystification for both Steve & Bucky, especially when they decide to bat their blue-green and blue eyes at you. The way these men are so chaotic and deadly in their every day lives when they depart on missions, dealing with fates worse than death more often than not, they’ve still managed to hang onto that boyish charisma and charm.

And still…still you know that they’re a complex and boyish charm is one of the many layers of their being, just as their tendency to be dominating men in bed. While you’d only seen snippets of their dominative tendencies with a secure and sturdy hand on your hip in the elevator and a stern voice when you’d verbally pushed them, you knew that submission and teasing had gone hand in hand.

Dominative but soft.

“You come at the worst times.” Your voice of indignation was raised before Steve could get a single word out and then he had cocked an eyebrow, the corner of his lips twitching as he feigned a smirk.

“I have a gift, doll.” Steve stepped toward the desk and set the box down upon the wood, his eyes concentrated solely on you while you squirmed in your seat.

Gone was the uniform, the shield and the cowl. It was replaced with a pair of dark wash straight leg jeans and a plain white shirt that was coiled tightly against his broad shoulders and powerful chest. He was an enigma of a man, so many complex layers woven within himself and Bucky. Both beautiful. Both immeasurably bulky and large.

“A gift? You didn’t need to get me anything.” Your protest contradicts your motion of movement as you lean forward and grab the box, tugging at the silky ribbon that’s tied around the lid of the box and the girth.

The ties fall and you drag them out from under the box, tucking them to the side while Steve watches you. After the lid comes off you’re able to see the stationary set that’s safely tucked inside allowing you to gaze at the hand-drawn flowers and fauna on the edges and sides a delicate detail that was making it hard for you to catch your breath.

“Steve this is…” you hesitated on saying too much and not necessary, instead you kept your tongue and simply smiled warmly. “Thank you.”

“For your journal.” He states the fact, another poignant claim that steals your breath again, and you feel your guard slipping to an all new low.

“You know I journal?” The thick stack of paper is set to your right, hands quickly picking out every new gifted piece of this set, until the box is empty.

“We know more about you than you think.” Steve leans in and turns one of two fountain pen closer toward you and then raises his hand to brush a piece of hair off your cheek. “Don’t forget to say thank you, doll.”

Its the way he speaks that hails in a part of his dominative personality, the urgency to thank him for the gift is both a soft command and a warning that he won’t leave until you do. You’re taken for a moment, your breath hitched in your throat until you get control of your mind and lick your lips, a subtle chance to further gather your thoughts.

“Yes, of course.” Your mind wanders, it wavers and then you speak softly and gratefully. “This is beautiful, thank you Steve.”

“You’re welcome, sweetheart.” Sexual tension crackles in the air, it threatens to bubble over as he starts to recoil and stand to his full height, garnering your attention and wide eyed gaze to take in his full stature. “You be a good girl this weekend.”

You e almost forgotten that you’re going to a bachelorette party in Vegas, the trip almost completely slipping your mind until Steve mentions it. And as he mentions the command to be a good girl your stomach flutters and your thighs shake.

“I will.” You relay in return, watching him as he moves toward the door and stands halfway in your office and halfway out.

“I know,” Steve calls over his shoulder, blue-green eyes alight with desire, “you’re always our good girl.”

#stucky x hr!reader #Steve rogers x HR!Reader x Bucky Barnes #Bucky Barnes x HR!Reader x Steve Rogers #stucky x Human Resources!Reader

[five-rivers]

Forced Fruit

CW: Torture, psychological torture, medical abuse, non-consensual body modification, kidnapping, Spectra. This fic is an excuse to torment Danny.

.

The topic came up during a planning meeting for the Winter Truce.  All the adult ghosts in the area were there to divvy up responsibilities, such as decorating, catering, and sending invitations out to children.  However, as often happened during the few times such a large number of ghosts gathered in one space, things turned to fighting, resolved themselves, dissolved themselves, called a time out, got bored, and engaged in gossip. 

(Not all the steps, particularly the resolution, were necessary.)

The topic was Danny Phantom.  Newest (part-time) resident of this area of the Ghost Zone. 

“He’s a menace!” complained the Lunch Lady. 

“A terror,” agreed Ghost Writer. 

“He has a protection Obsession and his first contact with other ghosts was people attacking him,” said Skulker with a dramatic groan.  “I don’t know what you expected.”

“You were one of those people,” said Desiree. 

“So were you!”

“How was I supposed to know?  I’d been trapped in a bottle for years.”

“His Obsession isn’t protection.”

“Nocturne!” scolded Frostbite as everyone turned to look at Nocturne in surprise. 

“What?  I’m not his ally, and he hasn’t exactly tried to hide it and you know it.”

“Still.  It’s rude.”

“It’s ruder to not share it, don’t you think?” asked Nocturne, stirring his drink with a claw.  Stars glittered in the depths of his cloak.  “He shouts it out like the Box Ghost.  Box Ghost, wouldn’t you be offended if someone thought you were Obsessed with, I don’t know, tape?”

“THE HORROR!  THE BOX GHOST CARES ONLY FOR TAPE USED IN PACKING PARCELS!”

“There you have it,” said Nocturne, gesturing lazily. 

“I hardly think that is an accurate analogy,” said Frostbite. 

“Come on, old man!” interrupted Johnny.  “Don’t leave us in suspense!”  His shadow chittered and hissed in agreement.

“Phantom’s Obsession,” said Nocturne, raising his glass, “is helping.”

“Well, that’s crap.”

“Oh, no,” purred Spectra, leaning forward and drumming on the table with blood red nails.  “Based on what I’ve observed of the pest, that fits very well.”

“But,” said Ghost Writer, “he is singularly unhelpful.”

“Not exactly,” said Skulker, thoughtfully.  “Any time one of us has asked him for help, has he said no?  Think about Pariah.”

“Pariah, indeed,” said Nocturne with an air of dark amusement. 

Frostbite glared at him.  “Phantom is a generous soul.”

“He’d have to be, to die with something like that on his mind, and so young, too,” said Spectra, grinning.  “A real martyr.” 

“Wow, so what made him such a pain in our processors?” asked Technus.  “How’d he get like that?”

“Fighting him as soon as you laid eyes on him might have had something to do with it,” said Spectra, prodding. 

“Hey!  He’s the one who suggested that!”

“Those little humans in his haunt probably ask him for a lot of help, though, don’t they?  Walker, dear, you spent a few weeks there.  That should be long enough to get a good idea of the lay of the land.”

Walker glared.  “I know what you’re doing, Spectra,” he said.  “You’ve spent time there, too.”

“Oh, yes, but I want to hear you say what you did, hm?”

Walker’s frown deepened.  “He isn’t well liked there,” he said.  “As a human or a ghost.”

“Wait, wait,” said Kitty, “are you telling us that fighting us is the only thing he’s got going for him, Obsession-wise?  That’s not healthy, is it?  Hey, fuzzball, you’re a doctor, right?”

Frostbite cast his eyes towards the ceiling.  “No, it isn’t healthy.  But I am sure he has other outlets—”

“Enough for someone as energetic as he is?” asked Spectra.  “What’s his family like, Johnny?  Are they supportive of his needs?”

“Uh,” said Johnny.  “They’re sort of… ghost hunters.”

The ghosts who had once been part of the Circus Gothica put their heads together and started whispering. 

“Oh, that’s right.  I’d almost forgotten.  What a terrible situation for a child.”

“Is there a point to this?” asked Amorpho, peevishly.  “Or are you just feeding on all the schmucks?”

“The point is that there is a child suffering.  Did you shapeshift away your heart?”

“But there’s nothing we can do about it!”

“That isn’t entirely true,” said Desiree. 

“Don’t tell us you’re going to wish it away,” said Ghost Writer, with scorn. 

“No more than you could write it away.  We both know our alterations to reality are ephemeral.”  She twined her fingers together.  “The problem here is his lack of less violent options to sustain himself, isn’t it?  What if we could give him one?”

“Only one here he’d take that from is big Frosty over there,” said Kitty, “and since he hasn’t yet…”

“Not like that,” said Desiree, her tail twitching.  “His powers are all very combat ready, aren’t they?  What if he had something that could be used more… gently?”

“Again, we aren’t going to wish for him to have powers,” said Ghost Writer.

“No, let her talk,” said Kitty.  “You have some kind of plan, right?”

“Well, after being released from that horrid little bottle, I decided to find gainful employment.”  There were titters of laughter, but Desiree glared them into submission.  “I found it.  How many of you have heard of the Hothouse?”

“You must be joking,” said Frostbite. 

“Not at all.  Consider: what would happen if Phantom had a healing power?  How much different could he be?  How much happier?  Nocturne, you must have insight, having seen his dreams.  Would he still fight if he could do something else?”

“Oh, he enjoys some aspects of combat,” said Nocturne.  “But he’s downright scared of seriously injuring someone.  You have noticed that he doesn’t damage any of us?  Think about how many times he’s dismantled that one’s armor.”  He pointed at Skulker.  “Do you really think he is physically incapable of doing that to flesh?  He’s fought Undergrowth and he still sends the Box Ghost home without a scratch.”

“YES, HIS GENEROSITY TO THE ANNOYING PLANT MAN IS COMMENDABLE.  LUCKILY, THE GREAT BOX GHOST IS MADE OF STERNER STUFF.”

“But the Hothouse?” asked Frostbite, aggrieved. 

“A touch of discomfort for something that will change his existence for the better,” said Desiree.  “When he no longer reacts to seeing us with a punch or a ghost ray, we can teach him.  He can be part of the community.”

“We do fight a lot, though.”

“With my position,” continued Desiree, “I can make sure we get the best discount.”

A long pause. 

“A discount?  You didn’t say anything about paying for anything!”

.

“You… bought me a spa treatment?” asked Danny, blankly.  The ticket hung limply in one hand, its envelope in the other.    

“It’s a group gift,” said Skulker, gruffly.  “Because of the Pariah thing.”

“That was ages ago.”

“Do you know how long it takes to get a group of ghosts to agree to anything?”

“Okay, yeah,” said Danny.  “But this is super suspicious, you know?”  He also wasn’t really a ‘spa’ person.

Skulker seemed to sigh, and Danny tilted his head, curious.  The amount of control Skulker had over his fake body always fascinated him.  How was he emoting like that?  Why did he even bother?

“Look, if you don’t at least show up, everyone will be mad at me.  Can’t you help me out here?”

“That makes it sound even more like a trap,” said Danny, despite twitching at the word help.  “Like they’ll all be waiting for me or something.”

“Don’t you have any friends or anything?”

“Rude.”

“Well, ask one of them.  It’s a legitimate business.”

Danny made a face.  “Fine.  I’ll look into it.”  He tucked the invitation/coupon/gift card/thing into his pocket and, withdrawing his hand, took out the thermos.  

He had to love ghost physics, sometimes.  Infinitely large pockets were great.  

“You can’t be serious,” said Skulker.  

“Well, I can’t have you running around doing who-knows-what for Vlad or setting up ambushes for me around town, so, yeah.  I kind of am serious.”

Skulker sighed.  “Let’s just get this over with.”

.

Skulker tumbled out into the Ghost Zone.  Getting ‘flushed’ through the Fenton Portal wasn’t unpleasant, exactly, but it was certainly disorienting.  He righted himself and tapped the comm. button on his gauntlet.  

“This is Skulker reporting–”

“Back so soon?” interrupted Technus in his aggravating, high-pitched voice.  He threw in some cackles.  “Did you give up, or were you–”

“The portal opens up into his house, you nitwit,” growled Skulker.  “It wasn’t like I had to go far to find him.”  In fact, the boy had been in his pajamas.  “The point is, the whelp has the invitation now, so pass on the news.”

.

“Excellent,” said Desiree.  She steepled her fingers.  “The next time he comes into the Ghost Zone, we will use the invitation to summon him.  The rest of you will be able to fulfill your roles for the duration of Phantom’s stay, I trust.”

“Yeah, yeah,” said Johnny.  “Hang around, chase him down if he gets far enough.  Which he won’t, between you and Ghost Writer here.”

“Our powers aren’t undefeatable,” said Ghost Writer.

“You’ll also be keeping an eye out for other clients trying to leave prematurely,” said Desiree.  

“Doesn’t it, like, bother you at all to call them clients?”

“Not really.  Why?”

“They aren’t here because they want to be, you know?” 

Spectra leaned forward from the dark shadows behind Desiree’s desk.  “Darling, you’re the ones hiring us.  Don’t you think it’s a little hypocritical to argue about terminology?”

Johnny held up his hands.  “Yeah, yeah, I get it, I get it.”

“Don’t let her get to you, Johnny,” said Kitty, wrapping her arms around one of his and glaring at Spectra.  “We’re doing the kid a favor, remember.  It isn’t like we’re having them take away any of his powers.”

“More’s the pity,” said Walker, casting his eyes upward.

“For once, I agree with the spoilsport,” said Spectra.  “Are you sure we can’t get the ‘bosses’ to make an exception, just this once?”

“I’ve already asked,” said Desiree.  “No exceptions.  We only add or improve abilities, we don’t remove them.  We don’t want that.  He’s too useful for getting rid of nasty problems, like Pariah Dark.  Besides which, they’re already being fairly generous as is, given that between all of you, you couldn’t scrape together–”

“You didn’t help that much with the payment, either,” pointed out Ember.  “I’m the one footing the bill.”  

“But I am vital to everything else,” said Desiree, “and we are getting a very good bargain.  There are some ghosts who would kill for the package you’re getting.  A full Healer’s Suite for a difficult client, plus a bit of redirection, and all the rest of you have to do is help keep him and the others contained for the duration of his stay.”

“WE ALSO CHECKED THE ‘AESTHETIC FREEDOM’ BOX!”

“Does he have to be here?” asked Desiree.

“Listen, have you tried to keep him out of anywhere he wants to be?  It’s impossible.”

“THE BOX GHOST DOES NOT ‘HAVE’ TO BE ANYWHERE.  THE GREAT BOX GHOST DOES AS HE PLEASES.”

.

“I’ll be back in a few hours,” Danny told Jazz, rinsing off his toothbrush.  “Before you guys get up, at least.”

Jazz started her toothbrush up just as he turned his off.  The sound made a good barrier against eavesdropping parents.  “Alright, but if you aren’t I’m calling Sam and Tucker for a search party and sending the Boo-merang after you.”

“Ugh,” said Danny.  “Please don’t.  I’m sick of getting hit by that thing.”

“Then you’ll be home before I get up.”

“I already said that,” said Danny, aggrieved.  “Jeez.”

Jazz popped her toothbrush in her mouth and shrugged.  

“Whatever,” said Danny.  “Goodnight.”  He then proceeded to turn invisible and drop through the floor, all the way to the basement.  

Every time he did this, he was surprised his parents hadn’t coated the walls and ceiling of the lab with something ghosts couldn’t phase through.  It was sure convenient for him, though, so he wasn’t about to say anything about the oversight.

He flew through the portal quickly, not wanting to linger and risk discovery.  On the other side, he oriented himself toward the Far Frozen - he was overdue for a checkup and he wanted to ask Frostbite about that spa thing - and he started forward, only for the Zone to warp around him, twisting, shifting, plunging him through tissue paper thin leafs of reality.  He hit the ground hard.  

A new record for getting attacked coming through the portal.  Who did he know who could do something like that?  He filed the question for later as he pushed up off the tiled floor and saw what had to be at least half of his usual enemies.

It was time to fight.  

.

“I wish for Phantom to lose consciousness,” said Spectra.

“As you have wished it,” said Desiree with a smile, “so shall it be.”

.

“That was easier than expected,” observed Technus, toeing Phantom’s crumpled form.  

“Out of the way, out of the way,” said a Hothouse attendant, elbowing ghosts out of the way.  “Miss Desiree’s powers aren’t absolute.  We don’t know when he’ll wake up.”  Upon reaching Phantom, she produced a syringe and jabbed it into his arm with cool efficiency.  “There.  Much better.”  She stood up and faced the other ghosts with a smile.  “We will, of course, alert you when he’s ready for pickup.”

.

The problem with treating Phantom was, of course, his ridiculous and disproportionate amount of power.  That he was an unusual kind of ghost was secondary.  They’d done business with Vlad Masters-Plamius in the past.  They had data on that.  

No.  His power, his strength, was the problem.  Usually, their ‘difficult’ clients weren’t nearly so strong.  People rarely wanted to forcibly give someone who was already a threat additional powers, although there were certainly exceptions, especially in the ‘inconvenient or aesthetic abilities’ category.  

So.  Their first step in treating Phantom was to (temporarily, of course) disable or counteract his powers.  They couldn’t completely turn them off, of course.  That would be counterproductive.  For them to force his powers into fruition - or to graft new ones onto him - he’d still have to be able to access his special abilities in general.

Simple drugs would do the trick for curtailing his physical strength and his ability to fly.  Keep him uncoordinated, disoriented.  They’d doubtless have to adjust the cocktail he was on as they worked.  Even with their vast collection of records, half ghosts were all so unique.  

There was nothing they could do about invisibility, but enough of their staff had alternate ways of perceiving invisible things that it wouldn’t be a problem.  

Intangibility, human or ghost based, was largely a non-issue.  As part of their dealings with Plasmius, they had commissioned a number of adamant-titanium alloy items.  The combination of earthly and ectoplasmic materials was nearly impossible to phase through or phase with.  The greatest stumbling block there was keeping it on Phantom, although from their research it seemed that he wasn’t comfortable with shape shifting, generally only managing it as a reflex.

Ice powers could be counteracted somewhat by keeping him in a hot environment… although given the other stresses they planned to put him under, that wouldn’t be healthy long term.  They would have to be careful with that one.  

The biggest problems were ectoplasmic constructs like ectoblasts and shields, and the so-called Ghostly Wail.  For the constructs, they’d have to rely on the room and their restraints.  For the Wail, on the other hand…

They had to do something about it now, before Phantom woke up.

Phantom lay on the bed within his assigned room, deeply asleep.  He looked very young like this, and very alive.  She thought she might be able to predict the aesthetic changes that would be added to his spa package.  There were certain features that team just loved to play with.  

That wasn’t her job, though.  She pulled her syringes from her pouch and got to work.  

.

Danny woke slowly, as if sleep was a syrup that clung to him.  But he had to, because…  Hadn’t he been fighting?  Where was he?  He opened his eyes to a ceiling that refused to focus and tried to sit up.  His arms refused to cooperate.  

“I’m glad to see you’re awake, Mr. Phantom.  Welcome to the Hothouse Spa and Clinic.”

That made him work a little harder to get up.  A ghost in a neat uniform floated next to the bed he was on.  Her hair and sleeves were both pulled back.  

“In accordance with the package that was ordered for you, you have been sedated and will be monitored until we have completed your treatment.  Your treatment will start shortly.  In the meantime, we invite you to explore the amenities available to you.”

Danny’s vision swam and he dropped his head.  

“Please enjoy your stay,” said the ghost, pleasantly. 

Danny didn’t see the ghost go, but he could feel her absence.  Okay.  Right.  He’d been right about the spa thing being some sort of trap.  He’d obviously been drugged.  Either that, or he was suffering the effects of some ghost power.  

Thinking made him feel nauseous.  He swallowed.  

Right.  So.  He had to look around.  See where he was.  What he could do.  What he could use.  Start making an escape plan.  He wanted to get out of here before Jazz came after him.  

Danny made a heroic effort to get off the bed, and rolled off onto the floor.  The air was knocked out of him 

“Well,” purred a painfully familiar voice, “that was certainly pathetic.”

Danny flopped over to squint at Spectra.  He wanted to ask why she was here, but, like the rest of him, his tongue wasn't working properly.  

He clenched his fists, drawing power to them, but the energy discharged into sparks before he could do anything with it.

"Look at you, lying there.  When violence isn't an option, you're useless, aren't you?"

While it was true that Danny solved most of his problems with violence, they were generally problems of the violent variety to begin with, and he thought that using his immediate reaction to being kidnapped and drugged was kind of unfair.  Then again, Spectra was the textbook definition of unfair, and he had to keep reminding himself of that.  Jazz said it was important to remember that she was full of crap.

Besides, violence wasn't his only option.  

He called his rings and turned human.  Falling through… wherever he was wasn't going to be pleasant, but once he was out and his head was cleared, he–

His fall stopped abruptly, all his weight hanging from his wrist, which, unlike the rest of him, wasn’t phasing through the floor.  Something wrenched in his shoulder, and although it was far from the worst injury he'd had, even if he only counted this month, whatever was disorienting him didn't do anything for pain.  Except maybe make it worse.

His vision went black for a moment, and then Spectra pulled him back up through the floor.  The sudden movement sent pain radiating from his shoulder.  

Spectra grinned at him.  "Like I said, pathetic."  

He went ghost again just in time for her to throw him into a wall.  

Shield, he thought, rather desperately, shield, shield, shield!

He got one up just in time to block Spectra's black claws.  They scraped against the shiny green surface.  

"Shields are all very well and good," said Spectra, "but what happens when they break?"  She pushed, and, sure enough, Danny’s shield shattered.  "You can't protect anyone like this.  Completely unhelpful.  What good are you?"

You know what?  Screw this.

If Danny's coordination and awareness had been torpedoed, he'd just scream his way out of this.  He inhaled and Wailed.

Silently.

Spectra leered at him.  "What's the matter, useless freak?  Ghost got your tongue?"

She slammed him into a wall and he passed out.  

.

“My,” said the observer from the aesthetic team, “he’s rather stoic, isn’t he?  I mean, I know we sealed his voice, but no ghost sounds, either?”

“He doesn’t have the structure for it,” said the primary medical advisor.  

“Really?”

“Current theory is that it’s a side effect of how he was formed,” said the medical advisor, nodding.  

“Huh.  Fascinating.  We’ll have to include those in our healing plan.”  She made a note on her pad of paper.  “Our sound designer will be thrilled, even if we don’t get to play much with his actual voice after all.  He’s really looking forward to taking a look at that Wail, too.” 

“Do you have any thoughts about what aesthetic you’re going to go with for him?” asked the project manager, sipping a drink that gave off copious amounts of neon blue steam.  

“Oh, yes,” said the aesthetic team member with a nod.  “Overwhelming cuteness.  We have a good base to start with, and I think it will fit well with the overall purpose of the client’s stay.  Imagine: small, soft, fragile, fluffy, a dozen or so wings longer and wider than he is tall, a body just the right size to cuddle, nice, bright, diffuse aura, big, bright eyes, sharp teeth, always teething, always sleepy…  That is what his powers will be tuned for, yes?  Constant fatigue?”

“At first, sure,” said the medical advisor.

“To help with the transition,” interjected the second psychological expert. “It tends to be easier for clients like this to accept changes if they are too tired to actively resist them.”

(Even the executives of the Hothouse hadn’t liked the idea of having Spectra entirely in charge of that aspect of this operation.)

“Yes,” agreed the medical advisor.  “But once his healing factors equilibrate, his form settles, and he rebalances his energy consumption, he should be more active again.”

“Ah, well.  Anyway, imagine something like that coming up to you and asking to be held.  Isn’t it just a precious image?”

The project manager laughed a little.  “Don’t forget, this is the person who defeated Pariah Dark in single combat.  That’s why we’re taking all of these security precautions.”

“Of course!  Ninety-nine point nine nine nine percent of the time, he could be a tiny little gentle thing, but that point zero zero one percent…  When his friends need that kind of help, he becomes a soul-crushing, mind-numbing terror.  Isn’t that way cuter?”

The other ghosts in the room considered the picture for a second and made various sounds of agreement.  

“About the wings, though,” said the medical advisor.  

The aesthetic team member groaned.  “Are you saying we can’t do them?  I thought we had complete freedom on that front?”

“You do,” said the project manager, quickly.  

“Yes, yes,” the medical advisor said, reassuringly.  “But, as a general caution, we do want him to be functional and able to care for himself by the end of this.  More than that, we still want him capable of taking up arms, if it comes to that.”

“Yeah, that’s why I mentioned that point–”

“Point zero zero one percent, yes,” the medical advisor nodded.  “More specifically, about the wings, we don’t want to deviate too far from a human body plan, because we aren’t sure how his form will map to his human body.  We don’t want to add anything that won’t be sustainable for him while he’s in human form.”

“That rules out a lot,” said the aesthetic team member, pouting.  “But one of our junior team members mentioned a possible work-around I’d like to try.”

“Oh?  Do tell.  Upper management is always happy to hear about new ideas.”

The aesthetic team member grinned.  “As long as they’re workable, right?  Well, her idea was to make the wings aura structures.  His aura doesn’t seem to follow him into human form, right?  And he can certainly use the extra ectoplasm filtering capability - I mean, he’d have some of that with physical wings, as well, the way we make them, but, you know.”

The medical advisor tapped his lips.  “There are some potential complications from aura structures that I want to look into before approving anything, but I think it should work.”

“Great,” said the project manager.  “So, he’s going to be taken to the baths to soak for a while.  Any concerns?  No?  Excellent.  We’ll meet again to observe his next session with Spectra.”

.

Danny woke submerged up to his neck in ectoplasm.  Uncomfortably hot ectoplasm.  Probably hot enough to burn, if he was in his human skin, or even his ghost if his ice powers weren’t naturally countering the heat.  Naturally, he flailed and once again came up short when something caught around his wrist.  

He hissed as the motion jarred his injured shoulder.  It was only sore, now, instead of still being dislocated, but it still hurt.  Reaching down, he found the cuff of a manacle and a short chain leading to the bottom of the tub he was in.  

Another thing he found was a lack of clothes.  

Usually, that wasn’t a problem for him, because his jumpsuit reformed and repaired itself with only a thought from him, but the fumes from the ectoplasm were making it hard to think, on top of everything else, and it was hot.  

Even though he couldn’t see very far through the luminescent green ectoplasm, he was still able to unerringly trace the lines of his death scar.  The idea that it had been on display to Spectra and who knew who else made him, well, more nauseated than he already was.  

“Hey, you’re new here, aren’t you?”

Danny flinched, hard, into the side of the pool.  

“Shoot, are you okay?”

Danny squinted through the ectoplasm fumes to see a ghost woman in… basically the same situation he was in.  Actually, he was far from the only other person in the room.  There were many other tubs.  

Cautiously, Danny nodded.

The woman smiled, shakily.  Her hair floated on the surface of the ectoplasm around her, rainbow-hued, like an oil spill.  “That’s good,” she said.  “They sealed your voice, huh?  That must be hard.”

Danny raised his free hand to touch his throat.  

“Yeah,” said the woman, “a seal, that’s…  Do you know where you are?  What they…”  She lowered her voice slightly, “what they do here?

The answer to that was no, but Danny could conclude that it was bad above and beyond everything else.

The woman bit her lips, white fangs stark against the black.  "They call themselves a spa, but they’re professional torturers for hire.  They'll torment you until you're in the shape the people who hired them want."

Well, Spectra fit right in, then, didn't she?

"There's people who want to be here, too, if you can believe it."  The woman laughed, but it was a strained, shallow thing.  "Because one of the things they can supposedly do is give you new powers.  But I can't imagine going through this willingly."  She hooked long black talons over the side of her tub.  "When I get out of here, I'm going to find whoever did this to me and destroy them."

Well, that was… something.  He was going to go with something.  

It did seem to imply that someone, or several someones, had paid these guys to hold him.  Considering all the ghosts he'd seen right before he blacked out…  Ancients, he was an idiot for not shredding that "invitation" Skulker had given him.  

He was going to leave them in the thermos for a month next time he got them.  At least.  Together.  In the same thermos.  

The woman peered at him through the steam.  “How old are you?”

Danny frowned.  She didn’t expect him to actually answer, did she?  She’d pointed out that he couldn’t talk in the first place.  

Whatever.  It was way past escape time for both of them.  He put both hands on the chain and called on his ice.  The ectoplasm around him became blessedly colder.  He pulled.  It didn’t matter which way he pulled, as long as it was all one direction, so his lack of coordination didn’t matter as much.  

He’d get himself free, then help the other captives get out and hope that at least some of them were less drugged than he was.  

He pulled, and pulled, and pulled, and he could practically feel the metal begin to give, when–

There was a sharp prick in the back of his neck.  The colors around him, already blurred by the steam, melted.  

.

When Danny woke up, he felt… more liquid than he should.  Less solid.  He clenched his hands and winced as his skin proved to be…  Sunburned?  How did he get sunburned on his palms?

Oh, right.  The hot ectoplasm.  

He pried his hands open and, very slowly, sat up.  The world still tilted horribly around him, but it wasn’t actively spinning.  His mouth felt like paper towels.  He swallowed.  

The room he was in…  Was it the same one he’d woken up in before, with Spectra?  He hadn’t been there for long.  At least, he hadn’t been there while awake for long.  It could have been the same room.  

The room looked like it belonged in a high end hotel, except that the door didn’t have a handle on the inside, and there were no windows.  There was a bathroom, sort of bent around one corner.  No door for that.  A mini fridge?

Danny rubbed his eyes, and quickly decided that was a bad idea.  Skin-on-skin contact was bad.  It just hurt too much.  Okay.  

Carefully, he maneuvered himself off the bed.  He just had to get to the door.  Yeah.  Yep.  All he had to do. 

Several hazardous minutes later, he was leaning against the door.  The door that had no handle.  That was a problem.  

Or was it?  Couldn’t he just phase through?  Turn human and phase through?  Why couldn’t he do that?

He frowned down at his hands.  There was some reason.  It was… He caught sight of the metal around his wrist.  It contrasted strongly with what he was wearing which was…. A hospital gown?

He was confused, a state he didn’t think would lift until the drugs left his system.  He hoped he didn’t build up a dependency.  

But.  Door.  He went human and phased through.  He came up short against that metal band around his wrist.  Okay.  Okay, so he couldn’t phase that through things.  He’d just have to get the door open from this side.  There was a handle on this side.  He tried it, and discovered that it was locked.  Of course it was locked.  Right.  He looked around the room, trying to see if there was anything that could help him.  

It was a sort of antechamber.  A very small waiting-room-like space.  There were two chairs in pastel blue and pink, tastefully muted paint, a tiny table stacked with magazines, and a small landscape painting of the Tetrahedral Prairies.  It was lit from above with a single light fixture behind glass.  

He frowned at it.  Maybe he could–

The opposite door opened, revealing Spectra.  She smiled.  “Oh, my, were you that eager for our next session?”

Danny was not.  He started back through the door, but Spectra grabbed him, the distance between them too small for Danny to get away.  She pulled back, pulling Danny’s arm taught once again.  All the joints of his arm felt like they were about to pop out.  Stars danced in his vision.  

“You know, I’ve never been a fan of physical pain - much too… crude, I suppose?  But this I could get used to.  I suppose you’re just sweet like that, hm?”  She leaned past his shoulder and clipped something around his arm.  Then she dropped him, draping herself languidly over one of the chairs.  

It took a moment for him to realize what had happened.  On the other side of the door, there was an unphaseable metal bracelet around his wrist.  Now, on this side of the door, just before his arm disappeared into it, was another almost identical bracelet.  He pushed forward, experimentally.  The metal jarred against the door.  

He was stuck.

Well, not completely, he could slide across the door, up until he hit the thicker doorframe, but that wasn’t a useful degree of mobility.  Not with Spectra sitting right there.  

“Oh, right.  You were so pathetic, I almost forgot!”

Whatever it was, Danny doubted–

She stabbed him, the long, sharp talon of her index finger sinking into his leg.  She pulled it free and hot, red blood came pouring out.  He could– He had to–  But if he went ghost with his hand in the wall like this, what would happen?  He didn’t know.  Didn’t want to know.  

"For someone who claims to want to help, you spend an awful lot of time doing the opposite," said Spectra, leaning back in the chair and propping her feet on Danny's shoulders as he tried to put pressure on the stab wound.  

Danny, not having a lot of other options, hissed at her.  

Spectra tasked.  "Don’t give me that!  It's true.  Do you even know how many ghosts you've hurt?  And if you're as heartless as your parents, at least think about the humans you've hurt.  That's before we get into the burdens you put on your so-called friends and allies.  How many scars does your sister have because of you?"

His vision grayed out briefly as he felt his ghost half stir at the insult.  The part of his wrist that was stuck in the door felt uncomfortably dense.  His eyes were glowing, his sight limned with green that threatened to blot out everything.  Bad, bad, bad, this was bad.  

Something - Spectra’s heel, maybe - brushed the side of his neck, and then he felt her hook her toes under his jaw, the curve of her foot cupping his pulse.  

“Now, now, you are paying attention, aren’t you?  Do your sister that much courtesy, at least!  Don’t you care about what happens to her?  Or do you only care about yourself?  Well, you are a… whatever you are.  A crime against nature, shall we say?  An abomination?  A freak?  I’ll bet you haven’t thought about anyone else from the moment you got here.”

That… it wasn’t true.  The whole reason he was trying to escape was so he could go home to his friends and family.  

“Oh, I can see those little gears in your head turning.  You don’t even need to say it out loud - not that you can.  You’re thinking something saccharine about your friends and family.  But isn’t that just for your own comfort?  No thought for your responsibilities?  For how many people are going to suffer because you were curious?  Have you no shame?”

Spectra pulled her foot back to rest on his chest.  She slowly put weight on it, the sharp heel of her shoe driving hard between two of his ribs.  He could feel her draining him of energy as images of terrible things happening to Amity Park flashed through his mind’s eye.  

Most of his enemies knew he was trapped here.  What did they have planned for Amity?  What would happen to Sam and Tucker?  To Jazz and his parents?  To Valerie?  They’d try to stop the disaster, he knew.  They’d be in danger.  All of them would be in danger.  Because of him.  

“Not much you can do after the fact, is there?” purred Spectra.  “What will you do, if you go home to ruins and blood?  If you weren’t as stupid as you are careless, you’d beg to be kept here.”

Danny twitched.  A greatly abstracted attempt to throw Spectra off.  

“Oh,” said Spectra, as if she had just remembered something.  “But you can’t, can you?”

She laughed.  

.

“You, ma’am,” said the aesthetic team member, “are an artist.”

Spectra preened.  “I do try.”  She settled elegantly on the couch.  “What’s next?”

“It’ll be a while before you’re on again,” said the medical advisor.  “You really pushed him, which is what we wanted, but he needs recovery time.”

“Not mentally, surely,” objected Spectra.  

“No,” said the other psychological expert.  “You remember those films we picked out?  We’ll be playing those for him once he returns from the baths.”

“Ah, yes.  The educational films.  With emotional enhancement, I presume?”

“Of course.  We don’t want to drag this out longer than we have to.”

Spectra scoffed.  “Anything else I should know about?”

The aesthetic team member grinned.  “The sound designer came up with a great plan.  We’re building off the study we did of Ember McLain’s voice.”

“Oh, you’re giving him another power?  Is that alright with management?”

“Minor adjustments to an existing one, to fit the aesthetic plan,” said the aesthetician, waving off the false concern with ease.  “It would be like, oh, making your flames white instead of black.”

"On the subject of sound," said the medical advisor, "we're fitting him with a prosthetic ghost sound generator on the advice of the psychological counsel."

"It will help him learn which sounds are connected to which emotional states," said the other psychologist.  "So when his own structures for it grow in, he'll be able to use them properly."

"Oh?" Spectra raised an eyebrow.  "He'll have voluntary control?  

The aesthetician laughed.  "Hardly!  Between the aura modifications and this, he'll be an open book to any ghost with eyes and ears.  Which will be good for him.  Isn't the reason he got into so many fights that he was so hard to read?"

Spectra rolled her eyes.  "And his atrocious personality."

"He'll have about the same level of control as a newly formed ghost," said the medical advisor.  "After that…" He made a face.  "Unfortunately, his control will always be limited.  To avoid impinging on his human internal organs, we had to simplify the design, and we decided that the range, depth, and complexity of the emotion conveyed was more important than voluntary control."

Spectra didn't bother to hide her delight.  "That's perfect.  I love having music with my dinner."

"If we could have made the structures smaller scale–"

"No, no, no," said the aesthetic team member.  "He has to have the biggest pur possible."

"I know," said the medical advisor, flatly.  "You've told me so several times."

"Yeah, because you don't get it."

.

Danny jolted out of a nightmare, his heart beating rapidly and his core aching with failure and despair.  It took him several heaving and panicked minutes to realize that it hadn't been real.  

Not that it made him feel any better when he figured out where he actually was.  He was in one of the tubs again, but this time it was dry.  He looked down at himself.  The hole in his leg had been neatly wrapped in bandages.  A flat metal disk was somehow adhered to his chest, exactly where he knew his core to be.  There was a small electronic box stuck to it, with little lights on the front.  

He tried to reach for it, but found that this time, both his hands were trapped.  His right wrist was chained to the bottom, as before, and his left arm was strapped firmly to a little ledge on the side of the tub.  A nauseatingly thick IV tube was plugged into the crook of his arm, and he followed it up to a rack hung with dozens of pouches of colored fluid.  

“Ah, you’re awake.”

Danny jerked his head up to meet the eyes of a purple-skinned ghost.  He smiled, showing off brilliantly white teeth.

“My name is Mandy, and I’ll be carrying out your calibration today.  We’ll be taking you through a range of base emotions: surprise, fear, anger, disgust, sadness, and finally happiness.”  He laid his hand on the rack of IV pouches.  “All the emotions will be ectochemically induced.  Our proprietary emotional formulas also include mild paralytics, to prevent injury.  After calibration, we’ll give you a relaxant, clean you up, and then you can have a soak while the other treatments are applied.  Doesn’t that sound nice?”

Danny shook his head frantically.  Mandy just smiled wider.  

“Here we go,” he said, twisting something on the rack.

A bright purple liquid dripped into the IV tube, mixing with the clear substance that was already there.  Danny watched it flow down until it hit his arm.  At first, nothing seemed to happen.  Then, his hair all stood on end and he was overtaken by a sense of shock so intense it made his heart stutter.  The disk on his chest started to vibrate, producing a sound just at the edge of hearing, and he jumped, not expecting that.  But his jump was…  delayed.  Clumsier that it should have been, and not as strong, either.  It didn’t jostle his wrists against the cuffs.  He’d known about the paralytic, but it still surprised him.  

“I think that’s enough,” said Mandy, and Danny twitched away from his voice startled, but this twitch was even weaker than the one before.  

Slowly, Danny’s heart rate returned to something normal.  The humming of the plate on his chest subsided, but didn’t vanish.  

“On to fear!”  Mandy turned the tab on a lurid orange pouch.  

Maybe it was because Danny was already afraid, but this sensation left him almost insensate.  When he came to, he was cowering, and the plate was vibrating so hard it was disrupting his breathing - a thought that sent another spike of fear through him.  

“And… anger!”

The liquid that dripped into him was fuschia, but the color that crept across his vision was green, followed by bright blue-white.  Rage became cold faster than it became hot, and he was too angry not to let it spill out of him.  

He was cut off with a wash of scalding hot water.  

“Ah-ah!” said Mandy, waggling a finger.  “None of that!  That could have been dangerous.  You’re not the only one here, you know?”

Danny bared his teeth, still furious.  It was the only movement he was really capable of.  

“All these other clients…  You don’t want to hurt them, do you?”

Something in Danny withered.  

Mandy did not give him forewarning about disgust, but Danny was more than able to identify the wave of revulsion that left him gagging and retching, and then gagging and retching because of the retching.  If there had been anything in his stomach, it could have been messy.  

Almost as soon as that started to fade, he began to cry.  His brain scrambled for reasons he could be feeling this way, and settled on grief.  Everyone was dead and gone.  That’s the only reason he would feel like this.  Before he’d recovered, he was filled with a joy so obviously artificial that his skin crawled even as he silently giggled, the vibrating plate sending shudders through him.  

“Calibration complete,” said Mandy, cheerfully.  He turned one last knob, and something milky flowed into the IV tube.  

Starting from the crook in his arm, Danny felt all his muscles relax one by one, all sense of tension slipping away.  His head fell back against a pillow.  

Mandy pulled something up from the side of the tub, and started spraying Danny with uncomfortably hot water.  “Nothing to be ashamed of,” he said, wiping snot and bile from Danny’s lips.  “It’s just how your body reacts to these things.”

The tub filled.  It was hot enough that Danny felt like he was sitting in a pot of soup, and he started panting, some reflex to get cooler air into his body.  

Between the heat, the vibration, the paralysis, and Danny's general misery, he… drifted.  He didn't sleep.  He didn't think he could sleep.  But his thoughts rabbitholed through anxieties and fears until they, too, exhausted themselves into a gray blanket of malaise.  

It was in this stare that he was carried back to 'his' room and carefully arranged on the bed.  The IV was still in his arm, whatever poison was in it dripping into his veins.  Across the room from him a person in the Hothouse uniform was adjusting a giant television screen.

When they finished, they came over and adjusted a knob on the IV rack.  The world, from the vibration at his chest to the ache of his scalded skin came back into sharp focus.  He gasped, not at all ready for it.  

He still couldn't move.

"We have some movies set up for you, dear," said the spa attendant.  "We hope you find them improving."

Danny, unable to do anything else, watched.  

The movie started out as a classic fantasy.  A great warrior defending his home from an even greater evil, accompanied by a cast of quirky supporting characters.  Then, in the last act, the hero went out to fight alone, to hold off the evil, telling his friends to stay behind.  The hero was, barely, victorious, but he returned to find his friends wounded and dying, caught by surprise by another prong of the villain’s attack.  The hero tried to save them, but couldn’t, and the movie ended with the hero lamenting his lack of healing knowledge.

And then another movie started.  And another.  They all had different lengths, and there were dozens of them, all of them with complimentary themes.  No matter how strong the hero was or how hard they worked, if all they knew how to do was fight, the story ended in abject tragedy.   

And Danny couldn't help but cry.  

He hated himself for getting invested in things he knew were designed to torture him and break his heart.  But he did.  He wanted to solely blame the drugs that were still pouring into his system, but as that pain within his chest, a pain exacerbated by the buzzing disk, grew and grew, he knew that couldn't be all of it.  

Before the movies ended, he was emotionally wrung out, ached to sleep, and was filled with a desperation for any sign that his friends and family weren't dead so great that he probably would have sold his soul for one.  

Despite this, Danny held a tiny spark of hope.  He had come up with a way to escape, despite everything.  

Changing the temperature of something, especially changing it unevenly, warped it.  Doing so repeatedly stressed it.  The high temperature of the rooms and his general exhaustion mean that Danny couldn’t bring his ice powers to bear in an attack.  

He could, however, focus on making a little band of the metal cuff around his wrist freeze and melt repeatedly.  

Was this a very effective method?  Was it something he expected to come to anything?  

No.  

But it was all he had.  

One of those so-called spa attendants came in.  She smiled at him and held up a pair of earplugs in one hand, and a sleeping mask in the other.  "I'm getting you ready for your nap, okay?"

It was not okay, but Danny couldn’t say so.  He couldn’t even move.  

The attendant put the sleeping mask on first, then put the earplugs firmly into his ears, pushing them deep enough to be uncomfortable.  He could, just barely, hear the disk vibrating on his chest.  Otherwise, he was immobile and insensate.  

And then the touching started.  Hands, all over.  He couldn't hear, couldn't see, couldn't move, couldn't anticipate.  All he could do was lie there and experience hands running up his arms, down his back, through his hair…

He didn't want to.  He wanted to be somewhere else.  He wanted to be home.  He wanted, at least, to be able to fight back.  

He felt broken inside.  

.

"Alright," said the current monitoring psychologist.  "He's reached the breaking point.  Time to roll it back."  His breakdown had to be carefully shaped, after all.  

They watched as the more hands-on technicians pulled away from the client, then turned to the medical advisor.  

"So, what do you think?  How soon can we start the next phase?"

The medical advisor peered over their shoulder at the readings.  "I'd like to have him go through at least one more treatment cycle and consult your colleagues before we move on.  But if he reveals a notable vulnerability…"

"Of course, of course.  Aw, look at that.  He likes having his hand held and his head patted."

"Oh?  How can you tell?"

"Wavering stress levels.  See?  There’s not much of a reaction, seeing as this is a pretty disturbing and traumatic experience for him, overall, but, especially for humans, bodies will react without the consent of the mind.”

“Speaking of bodies,” said the medical advisor.  “Do you mind turning to that section?”

“Sure.  Huh.  Is that temperature fluctuation normal?”

“It’s hard to tell.  He’s something of a singular entity.  Unique.  It is something to take note of.

.

Danny was still awake when they came for him again and ‘prepared’ him for his next ‘treatment.’  He was starting to get feeling and movement back in his limbs, but he wasn’t in any state to struggle with them.  Still, making himself cooperate with them made him feel nauseous.  He was just trying to conserve his energy, but…

It felt wrong.  Like he was making a mistake.  But he wasn’t sure what else he could do.  If he fought too hard now, he might get sedated again, or they might notice what he was doing to the metal cuff around his wrist.  So, he stayed docile and let them lead him, staggering, around the room.  

They took him out into the hallways, and he tried to keep track of where they were going.  Even a vague idea of direction could be an advantage.  The halls, like the rooms he had seen so far, were done in a blandly pleasant style, but they seemed to pulse sinisterly.  And what was that perfume?  It felt like it had crawled into his nose and was now tearing at the backs of his eyes. 

He walked with the… orderlies?  Aides?  Nurses?  Attendants?  He knew they’d introduced themselves as something but forgive him if he hadn’t been paying attention to that detail.  He walked with them through labyrinthine halls and passageways and rooms full of… full of… 

… Something was wrong.

The attendants giggled and patted him.  The hallway in front of him stretched and time seemed to slow to nothing, and–

And he was in the tub again.  Chained to the bottom, like before.  

“Hey, are you back with us?”

Danny turned to see the ghost who had spoken to him the first time he had woken up in the tub.  She was barely recognizable.  Her hair had lengthened and darkened, her eyes were pitch black, all the way through, and the taloned hand that hooked over the side of the tub was easily three times the size it once was.  

“Yeah,” she said, lisping a little on her fangs.  “Not pretty, is it?”

Danny shrugged, and started trying to focus on the cuff again.  

“How are you holding up?”

Danny hunched his shoulders and tried to keep his emotions off his face.  He didn’t do a great job.  

“I’m sorry.  If I could do something to help…”  The ghost trailed off.  

The plate on Danny’s chest issued a weird sound that made Danny’s whole body shiver.  

“What was that?” asked the ghost.  

Danny tried to point at the plate on his chest, trying to show it to her, even though it was mostly submerged.  She looked at it with a sort of horror.  

“What are they doing to you?”

Well.  It was good to know that whatever this was, ghosts who actually spent all their time in the Zone were also baffled by it.  And by good, Danny meant ‘marginally useful, but also incredibly disturbing and not at all comforting in the grand scheme of things.’  Or, more simply, ‘bad.’

Then, he felt it.  The cuff cracked.

He looked around the room, wildly.  The only attendants were far off in the corners of the room.  It was now or never.  He pulled.  

The edges of the cuff scraped bleeding lines into his wrist, but he didn’t care.  He was free - at least of that obstacle.  There were others.  

Not the least of which was a hungry, starved thing inside him, an empty pain made worse by Spectra’s taunts and the movies he’d been forced to watch.  

(Even now, he didn’t want to think too hard about his Obsession.)

He clambered out of the tub, then reached into one next to him, and yanked on the chain connecting her to her tub.  He hadn’t been able to get his own out, but now he had the advantage of greater leverage and no longer being in a vat of near-boiling ectoplasm soup.  He pulled, and ice crackled around his closed hand.  

It came out.  

“Thank you,” said the ghost.  “Thank you, thank you.”

But that was all Danny could do.  They’d been noticed, and Danny wasn’t in any condition to fight.  He could try.  Part of him wanted, desperately, to try.  But he’d do more good if he left, recovered, and came back with some sort of plan.  And backup.  Maybe an army of backup.  

“Sorry,” he said, and he dropped through the floor.  

Phasing as a human was different from phasing as a ghost.  For one, as a ghost he’d still have control of his trajectory.  As a human, not so much.  He tumbled through floor after floor, the sheer scale of this place chilling him.  

There was just so much.  

Then he was falling through rocky soil, then stone, then ectoplasm-laden air.  He was out.  

He flicked himself into ghost form and narrowly dodged a ghost ray.  He looked up, around.  Skulker.  Technus.  Johnny.  Among others.  Ancients, he’d thought they’d at least respected him, even if they didn’t like him.  Jerks.  

He flew, weaving.  A fight with these odds would not be in his favor.  

Another blast clipped him, making him spin.  He raised his own hand, preparing to shoot back, just to get room–

Do you even know how many ghosts you've hurt?

–He hesitated.  

The next ghost ray hit him straight in the face.  

The rest of the fight didn’t go any better.

.

“I think this presents an opportunity ripe for the taking,” said the second psychological expert while Spectra sulked.  “With this prompt, I think he will accept the modification easily.”

“I think we should have a few more rounds,” said Spectra.

“But the personal connection will be lost,” argued the other psychological expert, “and he’s good to go on the physical side of things, yes?”

“Everything checks out,” agreed the medical advisor.  

“And aesthetically?”

“Putting the final touches on our package, but that’s inserted during the recovery period.”

“See?  Perfect.  Just because you want to keep feeding on him doesn’t mean we have to drag it out.”

“It especially doesn’t mean we should drag it out,” said the medical advisor, “since it’s still unclear how much stress he can handle.  I vote for the proposed course of action.”

There were other murmurs of agreement.  

“Excellent.  I’ll tell the attendants to prep him.”

.

“This is all your fault.”

Danny twitched, only just starting his journey into consciousness.  He felt tenderized.  Bruised.  Splitting at the seams.  Like an overripe fruit fallen from a tree.

“What were you thinking?” asked that same, grim, accusatory, voice.  

His thoughts felt like soup.  What had he been thinking… about what?  What did he do?

Danny pried his eyes open and immediately winced.  It wasn’t particularly bright, but it was bright enough to hurt.  He’d seen enough to know he’d never been in this room, with its dark stone walls and glowing carvings.  

“Get up and look at what you’ve done.”

With effort, Danny rolled over and forced his eyes open again.  

On the floor in front of him, sluggishly bleeding ectoplasm, was the ghost woman who had been in the tub next to him.  The one who had been nice to him, who had explained more about this place than anyone else here in just a few sentences.

There was so much ectoplasm.  She wasn’t moving.  His hands fluttered over her, uselessly.  He didn’t know where to start.

The thing that was still stuck to his chest keened.  Something about the tone made him both cringe and try to echo the sound with his own voice, despite it being silenced.  A bit of drool, stained with ectoplasm and blood, dripped from his lips.

“She wouldn’t have gotten injured if you hadn’t tried to escape.  She wouldn’t be hurt if you had known some other way of doing things.  If you had done something other than fighting.”

Maybe under different circumstances, Danny would have argued.  Maybe he would have seen the flaws in this reasoning, in the accusation.  Perhaps he would have realized that he hadn’t fought, not really.  Perhaps he would have been able to say that it was the spa people who had hurt the ghost woman.  But he’d been led here, he’d been prepared for this, and the only conclusion compatible with how he felt was that, yes, this was his fault, yes, he had caused this.  

The knowledge hurt more than anything he’d ever experienced.  More than any fight, more than any wound, more than dying halfway and stumbling back to life.  

“But now that you understand how broken you are, you can fix this.”

At last, Danny looked up at the spa woman.  He didn’t recognize her, and that made him start to tear up, too.  How many of these people were there?

“Yes.  There is a way to fix this, and I can help you.”

Danny crawled towards her, trying to communicate begging in mime.  

“All you have to do is heal her.”

Danny sobbed.  He didn’t know how.  He didn’t know what to do.  

“I’ll even show you how.”

Danny felt like he was on a roller coaster of hope and despair, shifting between depths and heights so quickly it made him dizzy.  

“Here,” she said, gesturing at the walls.  “All you have to do is take it inside of you and make it part of you.”

Danny looked around wildly.  He didn’t understand.  There were only the walls and the carvings–

Oh.  

“It’s all there for the taking.  A way to help more than hurting people ever has.  As if hurting people could help them.”

Danny stood as if in a trance and began to turn, trying to take in all of the carvings.  He had started to pant, one of the few ways he could express the ache building inside him.  If he had a voice he’d be groaning.  The weird purring whine of the plate on his chest wasn’t helping matters.  

By the time he’d made a full turn, his vision had started to blur.  That was fine.  His eyes weren’t the important part.  It was that ache, that hunger that was not hunger.  His Obsession.  His purpose.  And, oh, he had failed it, he had made mistake after mistake… but he could fix things.  He could heal them.  

The pain built and spread until it radiated throughout his body.  There was a change taking place inside of him.  Parts of himself were twisting, warping to accommodate it.  Something new was growing.  Something he wanted so badly that the wanting was becoming.  Something being made following instructions only understood by the parts of himself that were secret even to himself. 

Something clicked into place, bringing relief.  The changes didn't stop, didn't slow, and the pain was still growing, but it felt more right. 

"There you are."  They took his hands and guided them down to touch ectoplasm soaked fabric and cold ghostflesh.  "Do you feel it?"

Another one of the new and growing pieces of himself slotted into place, pushing what was already there aside.  He felt uncomfortably stretched, as if reaching for something he wasn't ready for.

"It isn't entirely unlike an ectoblast or ghost ray, and you are, at least, proficient in those."  Her voice dripped with scorn.  "But this is a much higher art.  You must seek to help instead of harm."

That was all Danny had ever wanted.  

He reached for his powers, but flinched away from the ones that hurt.  He groped blindly, reaching for anything and everything.  Then, he finally made contact, and energy washed out of him.  

He was only barely upright in the first place.  He fell.  Something moved near him.

"You bastards," snarled the ghost woman.  "You drugged me and used me as a prop!"  She tried to throw herself at the spa person, but they dodged, and then there were dozens of others.  

She was alright then.  Good.  

Danny closed his eyes.  

.

“It’s a little creepy,” said the medical advisor’s assistant, walking around Phantom.  

“He’s always been creepy,” muttered Spectra.  

“He’s not going to react,” said the other psychological expert.  “Emotional and mental burnout is common after that kind of treatment.  If he’s anything like a regular ghost, he’s probably not even picking up our tone, much less what we’re actually saying.”  They walked over to Phantom and gently tilted his head up.  “I think it can be interesting.  In any case, this proves that his Obsession has nothing to do with fighting.  He wouldn’t be anywhere near this docile.”

“Hm,” said the medical advisor.  “In any case, he’s healthy enough to start the second phase, but his wake-sleep cycle should be closely monitored.  We’re aiming for a ratio between 1-5 and 1-3 before he’s released.”

“Don’t we usually have ratios closer to 1-20 for things like this?” asked the assistant.  

“Most of those aren’t part human,” said the medical advisor.  “If he spends much fewer than one hour in six awake, I would start to get worried about life functions.  We can account for those while he’s under our care, helping him bathe, intravenous feeding, things like that, but he has to be able to maintain his health once we release him as well.  It just isn’t responsible to release him, otherwise.”

“But he is ready to receive the aesthetic package?” asked Spectra, examining her nails.  

“Yes,” said the medical advisor.  “I suppose you want to inflict the injury?”

“Of course.  If I can’t deal psychological damage, I at least want to do physical damage.”

The assistant shivered.  “I still don’t understand why we need this part…”

“It eases the acceptance of the aesthetic package if the ghost’s core sees a need for it.  After all, the base function of the aesthetic package is a self-healing factor, even if we’ve learned how to use it for other purposes.  I think a shoulder injury will be ideal…  Perhaps another leg injury as well?”

Specta glided over, a sharp smile on her face.  “Don’t mind if I do.”

.

Danny opened his eyes slowly.  He hurt.  Everywhere.  He deserved it, too.  He curled in on himself and groaned.  

Groaned.  

He sat bolt upright.  He could– Was that–?

“Can I–?” 

He could talk again.  He could– He could–

“Now, I know you aren’t going to use that awful wail of yours and hurt all our other clients.”

Danny startled, looking up at the ghost who approached him.  

“You’re going to be good, yes?  Helpful?”  

Danny was nodding.  Why was he nodding?  

“Good.  Come along, I have something you can help with.  You want to help, don’t you?”

Danny knew he shouldn’t want to help these people.  He did.  He slid off the bed and grabbed the IV stand he was connected to.  Walking was difficult, and he was tired by the time he got to the doorway, but he managed.  

He padded along behind the ghost, hating every minute of it, but unable to stop, because he wanted to help so badly it made his heart hurt.  

But the way was long, and he found his eyes slipping closed…

.

Danny’s existence was nightmarish.  Or… he was having a lot of nightmares.  He wasn’t sure.  His life, or his dreams, whatever they were, currently consisted of getting woken up by a revolving cast of spa people, led out into the hall, unresisting, and then dozing off before reaching whatever the destination was.  

He’d say it didn’t feel real, but it felt all too real at the same time.  He wasn’t sure how many times it had happened.  His memories were blurring together, which, he supposed, might be the point.  

But this time was different.  This time, Spectra was his guide.  This time, they had actually gotten there.  There being a room full of ghosts who were, apparently, paying customers.  

(He didn't know why he followed Spectra here.  He didn't want to be anywhere near her.)

“Sit here,” said Spectra, pointing at a small stool.  “This is where you’ll be of the most help.  Today, you will be helping by using your healing powers to accelerate the recovery process of the people in this room.”

Danny frowned.  “Don’t I need to…?”  He raised his hands.  To heal the ghost woman, he’d had to touch her.  

"You haven't noticed?" sneered Spectra.  "In addition to a powerful active healing power, you have been given a passive healing power.  As it is always on, you only need to be in the general vicinity of people who need healing.”

Danny froze for a moment with raw greed before remembering that Spectra was describing something Danny already had.  Theoretically.

“Why are you telling me this?” asked Danny.  None of these people had been particularly forthcoming with information so far.  

“It would be irresponsible of us to do this and then not explain what your new powers are,” said Spectra, primly.  

Danny wanted to laugh.  Seriously?  Irresponsible?

“Remember, emotional harm is still harm, freak, and harm is the opposite of help.  I should know.  You don't want to be like me, do you?”

Everything Danny had been about to say shriveled and died.

“Wait,” he said, instead, “it’s always on?”  Something about that bothered him, but fatigue had snuck up on him again, and his thoughts were starting to slow.

“Oh, there’s technically an off switch, one just as accessible as the rest of your powers, but with your Obsession you’ll never be able to use it.  I actually heard one of the doctor types say that your core will probably either repurpose or deconstruct it within a month."

“I don’t have an Obsession,” mumbled Danny.   

“Are you sure?  If you didn’t have an Obsession, you wouldn’t be sitting on that stool.  Come on, if you don’t have an Obsession, do something unhelpful.”

Danny cast about, trying to think of something he could do without getting up and… oh…

Oh, no, this was much worse than it had been before.  He’d never been stuck like this before.  

"If you didn't have an Obsession, I wouldn't have had nearly as much fun with you when we first met.  I don't think I could have talked you into half the things I did if you didn't need to be helpful."

Danny clenched his teeth, then stood up and hit her.  

.

“I don’t know why you’re so surprised.  Having him still be able to fight was always the plan.  It’s not our fault that you managed to make yourself look like that much of a threat despite the drugs.”

“Are you quite certain you’re giving the brat the right drugs?” snipped Spectra.  

“Between them and his core shift, he should be so suggestible right now that you could tell him he was bright neon pink and he might believe you.  He should barely be able to think.  At all.  And he won’t even remember this.  Again, it’s your own fault.”

Spectra hissed.  

“I mean, there isn’t any point to it, even, other than satisfying yourself.  We’ve already got everything but recovery treatments taken care of.  Why do it?”

“You wouldn’t understand,” said Spectra.  

“Clearly.”

.

Technus stared at the other ghosts.  “Why me?  I know I’m the hippest out of all of us, but I don’t have any particular connection to Phantom, astral, LAN, or otherwise!”

“Trust us,” drawled Johnny, leaning over the handlebars of his bike, “it has nothing to do with you being cool.  Just, me’n’Kitty aren’t really the nurturing type, Ember needs to be on tour, Skulker is just… Skulker.  Walker’d throw Phantom in jail.  And Desiree’s busy.”

“What about Nocturne?”

“That’s funny.  Anyway, you at least have an attention span and can plan ahead.  You’re the best person for them to release Phantom to.”

“But what will I do with him.”

“Dunno, man.  Whatever they tell you to?”  Johnny shrugged.  “They’ve got some kind of care plan, anyway.”

“No, I mean…  He’ll be awake, some of the time, won’t he?  What do I do with him then?  He’ll be trying to get away.  Or punch me in the face.”

“Dunno.  But he’ll be Obsession-starved, won’t he?  Just find something for him to help you with.  You’ve got projects and stuff, right?”

“Well, yes.”

“There you go, then.”

“But they can’t be done by just anyone,” whined Technus.  

“Phantom’s not just anyone.  His parents are inventors, yeah?  It’ll be fine, dude.”

“Come on–”

“Really, dude, do you want Nocturne to have custody of Phantom?  Besides, you have time.  He’s not getting released today.”

Technus… did not want Nocturne to have custody of Phantom.  “Fine.”

.

Something… was different.  Danny didn’t know what it was.  He’d sort of lost track of everything for a while, after his escape attempt and the horrorshow that followed.  There was a sort of vague impression of things he’d done.  Being led around.  More treatments.  A lot of sleeping.  But the memories held no detail.  

But something was different.  He sat up and the disk on his chest made a small noise of discomfort.  Absently, Danny raised his hand to pick at it.  His fingers met smooth skin.  

His heart skipped a beat.  

Danny looked down.  The disk was gone.  So… What had made that noise?  As if to echo his silent question, a hum of confusion emanated from inside his chest.  

Inside.  Inside.  Did they– Did they open him up?  Did they phase the thing inside him?

A keen started up, and Danny curled up, hugging his legs and trying to push reality away from himself.  What were they doing to him?  Why were they doing it?  None of it made sense.  They’d given him healing powers at his enemies’ request, but they’d also put whatever this was inside of him, and broken him to the point he could barely stay awake for an hour at a time.  He didn’t understand.  

He wanted to go home.  

.

“Good to get confirmation the primary aesthetic package took,” said the aesthetician, sipping her drink.  

The medical advisor sniffed, offended.  “There was already confirmation.”

“Sure, sure, but picking out the differences between the prosthetic and his own internal sound with a special tool isn’t the same as hearing it yourself, is it?”  She sighed.  “I can’t wait for our one year courtesy check-in.  He’s going to be so cute and fluffy.”

“You know, if you want something cute and fluffy, you can always get a doll.”

“I have a bunch.  It’s different when they’re people, too.  More interesting.  Spicier.”

The medical advisor shook their head.  "I'll never understand you artistic types."

.

Danny did try to escape again.  Sort of.  He made plans.  Psyched himself up.  But then he’d remember the woman he’d hurt… He’d remember that he was helping the other ‘patients’ with his new healing abilities… He’d even remember those stupid movies where the heroes fought and lost.  

He couldn’t bring himself to actually do it.  Every time he almost did, he felt like someone had poured an unholy combination of anxiety and depression directly into his brain.  He just.  Couldn’t.  

And combined with the physical effects of the drugs and his captivity… and whatever these people were doing to him… 

He couldn’t.  

There was probably some kind of psychological term for whatever was happening to him.  Jazz would know it.  Would he ever see Jazz again?  Sam?  Tucker?  His parents?  

He wanted to go home.  He wanted to be somewhere safe.  He didn’t want to be responsible for people getting hurt anymore.  

.

“Right now, he’s sleeping for about four hours at a time, and waking for about one hour at a time,” the spa representative told Technus.  “His periods of wakefulness will get longer as he recovers.  He should eat a standard meal - we have suggestions listed on this paper here - every time he wakes up, and will probably need to use the bathroom.  You do have a bathroom, don’t you?”

“And a shower!  I’ve been meaning to upgrade it so that–”

“Great,” said the representative.  “Otherwise, find some small task for him to help you with.  We’ve had him periodically providing aid to our attendants, but obviously that doesn’t provide much fulfillment value to him.”

“Obviously?  Why is that obvious?”

“Because he isn’t familiar enough with his new abilities yet.  He’ll have trouble conceptualizing the effects until he’s more cognizant of his surroundings.  Something with visible, physical, results will be better for him.  In any case, he’s still Obsession-starved enough that he’ll be receptive to instructions, as long as you can frame them in terms of his Obsession.”

Technus nodded, feeling uncomfortable.  He knew what Obsession starvation felt like.  But this way, Phantom would only experience it once.  With his new powers, he had many more options when it came to ‘helping people.’  New tools in his belt, as it were.  

Technus would certainly like new abilities like that.  Oh, to be able to take over technology passively.  Alas.  He’d never encountered that particularly groovy power, and he didn’t have anything the Hothouse would take in trade.  

Still.  When talking about sending Phantom here…  Well.  They’d been thinking in terms of the more distant future, and Technus hadn’t thought he’d be the one to take him home.  A completely valid reason to be nervous.  

“He’ll eventually get to the point where he’s not so docile.  That will likely happen sooner rather than later given his history with you, at which point it will be acceptable to release him.”

“He’ll be all better, then?”

“Of course not.  But I’m hardly going to tell you to try and keep him when he’s actively fighting you.  If he gets to that point, he should survive just fine out in the larger Zone.”  The representative rolled their eyes.  “The self-healing powers we’ve given him should let him survive through anything but core destruction, and I don’t need to tell you how hard that is to effect.”

“Hm,” said Technus.  

“It might even be better that way,” continued the spa representative.  “In the case of a full-body wipeout, the aesthetic package would assert itself almost immediately.  Of course, my superiors think it’s better if it takes effect gradually…  That’s why we balance the added self-healing so that it’s exactly equal to native healing under normal circumstances, and only starts to make changes when the subject is injured.”

“Okayyyy,” said Technus.  “So, this is everything?  We’re good to go?”

The representative sighed.  “No one cares about my work.  Yes, that’s everything.  If you can get him to bathe once in a while, that would also be good, but it isn’t necessary.  Phantom is just in the next room.  The sedation should last for the next three hours.  Have a good day!”

.

Danny woke, groggily, and the first thing he registered was that he was in a different room.  He wondered if he could pretend to still be asleep so they’d leave him alone for a little longer.

“Phantom!”

Danny startled at Technus’s voice, and tumbled out of the…  Well.  It wasn’t a bed.  Blanket nest?  

He clawed himself up the side of a computer cabinet, pulling a few wires out in the process.  The rest of the room was similarly strewn with technology.  

Was this Technus’s lair?  Why?  How?

(Embarrassingly, it didn’t look all that different from Fentonworks after Jack and Maddie went on an inventing spree.  They could at least try to be better than the tech-Obsessed ghost… really…)

“You need my help?” asked Danny, feeling a headache start to bloom behind his eyes even as that not-exactly hunger stirred inside him.  He shuffled forward, then forced himself to lean back.

“Yes!  With a fantabulous new invention!  Don’t worry about your technological incompetence, I will walk you through everything you need to know, and I am the most hoppin’ teacher of tech ever!”

"You," said Danny, straining to get the words out, "you aren't going to use anything I help you make to hurt people, are you?"

"What?" said Technus.  "Who?  Me?  Naaaaaaahhhhhh.  This is all just stuff to help me out around the lair."

A distant part of Danny found that reassurance suspicious.  The rest of him accepted it at face value, unable to bear doing anything else.  

.

Danny didn’t know how much time was passing, but he was being helpful.  He was supposed to be helpful.  That’s what he was for.  That’s what he did.  

Sometimes, as he was falling asleep, he remembered that he was helping Technus.  That he wasn’t home.  That he was still a prisoner, but now to his stupid body that couldn’t stay awake and his stupid Obsession.  

He really couldn’t deny that he had an Obsession anymore.  

Sometimes, he’d sneak away from a project for a few minutes, trying to find the way out, but stopping was nearly painful.  Other times, he’d finish a project early, start looking, and then fall asleep before he’d gotten anywhere.  

But… it was better than the spa.  Technus really was only asking him to help with little things, although the projects had gotten more complicated as Technus realized Danny’s technical skills actually existed.  No weapons.  Nothing that could hurt.

Danny was helping.  It was nice.

.

“Here we are, you can help me fix this speaker set while I check this out.”

Phantom slid into the chair and started turning over the small device.  “What are you checking?  The servos we did yesterday?”

“No,” said Technus.  “These.”  He touched the little knots in Phantom’s aura, right next to his shoulders, and Phantom stiffened.  The knots pulsed with pale light.  It was a wonder that these would become wings in just a few days. 

“Wh- What is it?” asked Phantom.

“Hm?  Oh, just checking on those aura construct doohickeys the Hothouse wanted me to keep an eye on.”  Technus used a touch of telekinesis to bring over the papers so he could refer back to them and the sheets rustled.  “They gave me all these care checklists.  One of them got set on fire the other day, though.  You remember that, don’t you?  They should really go digital.”

“What?  Aura constructs?”

“The aura constructs.  You know.  Didn’t they tell you?”

Phantom laughed, harsh and desperate, the sound clashing oddly with a mechanical whine from the device he’d been working on.  “No one told me anything.”

“Ah, well.  As awesome as I am, it isn’t my bop.  Aura constructs are like…  I don’t know, man.  Auras are sort of…  They’ve sort of got a magnetic field type thing going on, right?  To draw in ectoplasm?  Kinda like with solar flares.  Aura constructs are, like, a riff on that.  The aura field is sort of… twisted, to hold onto ectoplasm differently, so it’s semi-tangible or pseudo-tangible.  You get me?”

“W-why?”

“Usually to help the aura extend further, to get totally rad ecto-absorption rates.  But the vibe I got was that they did it more for the shape.  Your constructs are going to look like fluffy wings or something like that.”

“N-no.  Why did you– Did you do this to me?  What did I do to you that was so awful that you all decided to– to–”

Technus realized, rather too late to react properly to it, that Phantom was crying and that the whine he was hearing was actually a rather subdued core-keen.  

“Nothing,” said Technus.  “We didn’t do this because we hate you, ghost child.”

“Then why?”

“Well,” said Technus, “we thought…  Isn’t it a relief?  To have a power directly related to your Obsession?  To not have to fight us anymore?”

“I don’t have to fight you because of my Obsession,” hissed Phantom.  “I have to fight you because you keep hurting people.”  

“I don’t hurt people!” protested Technus, offended.  “I want to take over the world, why would I hurt people?”

“You tried to use a military satellite to do it!  What exactly did you think that thing would do?  What do you–  You used my house to crush rush hour traffic!  We’re lucky no one died.  And that’s just you.  Spectra tried to murder my sister, and bragged about it to my face!  Skulker hunts me for sport!  Desiree turns people into random monsters because of the stupid monkey’s paw game she plays!  And, and–” Phantom twisted away from Technus and phased through the table.  His face was blotchy red and pale.  His cheeks glittered with tears.  “And you didn’t ask me.”

Technus frowned.  “You wouldn’t have chosen differently.”

“You don’t know that.”

“It’s your Obsession!”

“And I should get to decide how to– to cope with it!  Not you!  Not them.”  Phantom sniffled.  “And they did things to my body and I don’t understand it, and I…  I hate you.  Why’d you do this?  I just…  I know the thermos isn’t that bad, I’ve been in there for hours before, I just–”

Technus wasn’t one for guilt.  Or introspection of any kind, honestly.  But he was sure feeling it now.  

“Okay,” he said.  “Okay, uh.  Phantom.  Is there, I don’t know, anywhere I could bring you?”

“Bring me?”

“Well, yeah, like… I know that saying I hate you is like the jive with kids these days, but I’m getting the signal you don’t want to be here.  Genuinely.  But I can’t just let you go.”  He had all those health checklists, after all.  “So, is there anyone I can bring you to?  Friends?  Dead relatives?”

“You could bring me home.”

Technus laughed, even though that might not have been appropriate.  “Back to the living realm?  And your creepy parents?  Ghost child, I’m not that irresponsible.  Surely, you must have encountered some ghosts that you don’t fight on sight?”

“Well, there’s the Far Frozen.”

Ugh.  The Far Frozen.  It was cold enough to freeze his microprocessors off over there.  It did match up with how old Frostbite was acting at the Truce planning session, though.  

He forced a smile.  “Well, then, ghost child!  To the Far Frozen it is!”

#danny phantom #ectoberhaunt22 #forced fruit #ectoberhaunt order #ectoberhaunt chaos #ectoberhaunt day 10: harvest and hunger

[extraordinari1y-ordinary-writer]

Johnny 13 x fem!reader headcanons? Please?

Pairing: Johnny 13 x fem!reader

Summary: Having feelings for a ghost was one thing, but that ghost being Johnny 13 was something else entirely.

Content Warning: Bad writing?

Word Count: 310

Notes: Was this requested? Yes! I'd like to thank <anonymous> for the request. I hope you like it! I'll come back here and there to make some edits where it's necessary. Any gifs or pictures I use are not mine.

Gentle reminder that I am always open for feedback! 💕

Never in your life did you think you'd be dating a ghost

You were a bit apprehensive in the beginning

You were lifelong friends with Danny, Sam and Tucker, and most of the ghosts you encountered weren't very friendly

Some of them were bad by nature, others held a grudge because of Danny

Johnny 13 happened to be one who held a grudge

You'd been there during the whole Johnny-fake-dating-Jazz-so-his-real-girlfriend-could-take-over-Jazz's-body incident

Naturally, you didn't like him

But that didn't seem to stop him from flirting with you whenever he managed to escape the Ghost Zone

Much to his girlfriend's displeasure

You'd also been there when Kitty overshadowed Paulina to fake date Danny to make Johnny jealous

It was a whole spectacle

But Johnny never relented in his flirtations

He did whatever he could to win your affections

Until you finally caved

You were a senior in high school and you wanted Johnny to stop but you couldn't help but feel flattered he was still trying, much to your annoyance

You agreed to one date if he stopped with his incessant flirting

"It's just embarrassing at this point," you'd stated in annoyance, arms crossed over your chest. "I never pegged you as someone who's desperate."

Johnny just smirked. "I'll see you tonight, doll," he remarked. "And maybe for a second date."

"I highly doubt it." You scoffed.

You hated that he was right

The first date was nice

He was sweet and put in more effort than some of your exes

But you weren't entirely swayed

One good first date didn't account for much, so you agreed for a second date just to see if he was consistent

Or that's what you told yourself

Two dates turned to three, and before long two months had passed

And you were smitten

And Johnny always made an effort to tease you about it

Masterlist

Taglist: @staria9100 @radcollectivesoul @cuddlefishextrodinaire @ramielll @lelialynn @whiminiferous @gracescor3 @identity2212 @winterslove1917 @hailycheyenne @dp-marvel94 @queerponcho @mystrawberrynigt

#johnny 13 x reader #johnny 13 #danny phantom x reader #danny phantom #danny phantom fanfiction #fanfiction #request #anonymous

[fragileizywriting]

“Just because I like his cock doesn’t mean I like him,” Marinette hums, powdering her face. 

Ah. 

She’s missed a spot. 

To be honest, there’s no need for it, given that today with be mostly the day where she uses the gloryhole, but it’s habitual to dress up. As a succubus, getting ready is part of the deal: feathers, pins, elaborate combs made of precious stones make her feel complete— not to mention makeup. Besides, with the powder, even the roughest throat fuck won’t ruin her makeup. She’s bulletproof. A long coat of mascara glides across her lashes already rimmed with gold, graphic liner. She’s stained her cheeks a shimmery orange so that it’ll reflect gold when she unglamours herself into her true skin. Beaded gold chains looped already in her hair like glass-cut rosary beads; red lips complete the look and gives her that signature demure smile.

She’s wearing the earrings this client gifted her, though he won’t be able to see it. But it turns demons really on to be able to just hear all the jewels and sparkles twinkling from the other side of the hole, and isn’t she here to deliver? Wearing jewels and rings and necklaces that they gave her?

Adrien is having none of this, fuming on her bed with his arms crossed. “I don’t believe you.”

“Adrien,” she giggles, turning to him from the giant mirror. A prominent pout of those beautiful lips makes him look rather younger. She’s always liked them young, youthful vigor that she won’t ever be able to replicate, and Adrien is as young as she can get given her strict parameters. He’s a five-hundred year old new-held. Her boyfriend is still such a novice about everything in life, and it shows in moments like this. Thick brows meet in the middle of his face; a smear of jealousy washes across his face like a sponge bath. She licks her teeth, facing back towards the mirror, closing the compact and reaches for a brush, wondering if she should make that frown of his disappear. “There is only one man in my life that I love, and it’s you.”

He’s call bullshit with a resounding: “I see the heart eyes you get when he comes down your throat.”

“Is that so? Oh, are you forgetting that I see the heart eyes when he fucks you?” she quips right back. “You can’t fool me, Baby.”

“That’s different!” he stammers. “It’s— I’m— it’s just part of the job.”

“And mine isn’t?”

Adrien goes quiet, combing through his bangs in frustration. “He’s… good at what he does.”

“Maybe a little too good?”

“Yes.” Then, like a punch: “No. He’s adequate.”

“Kitty-cat, you can like what he does. No one’s stopping you.” When he doesn’t reply, she sighs. “He’s very good at what he does, which is good, right? Would you rather this be a bad experience?”

“No.”

“Then?”

“I just… don’t want him to be better than me.”

There it is. That’s the worry that was bleeding out of him, tense like he’s pulled up on strings. That’s… well, she expected this, really. When she turns, she moves with her whole body, ready to stand if necessary, and gives him a little smile. “He’s a demon with a big dick, but he’s not better than you.”

“You like him,” Adrien reiterates. “I know you do. It makes me worried.”

“Again, I think if anything, you like him more.” She gives her thighs a pat, wondering if she should walk over to him and ease that grimace off his face with a few kisses. She’s walking before she can even blink, sultry and sweet on heeled shoes. “You’re not replaceable— you’re still my boyfriend. Even if I’m servicing someone else. It’s only with him that you’re this jealous of, why specifically him? Have you two met?”

“I think I saw him yesterday.” He quiets down into a murmur, hands sliding up her thighs when she reaches him and stands between his knees. With him on the bed, he has to look up, and she uses this opportunity to finger his hair and hum until his eyes close gently at the noise. Nestled right into her cleavage, Adrien’s lashes leave butterfly kisses against the valley of her breasts. “Through the door when I finished. He’s… beautiful.”

They don’t usually get to see who’s behind the wall. They lick and fuck anonymously, which is safer for both client and worker. No one can be blamed if there is no name on either side.

“More than you?”

“Honestly? Yes.”

“I’m not so sure.” After all, Adrien is gorgeous. He’s a blonde beauty, with amber skin and light green eyes, and he’s just so, so cute, with innocence written all over his face like he isn’t the one who licks her clit until she’s almost peeing. He still has that baby fat in his cheeks, made more evident when he pillows into her chest and hides there, taking a breath in while she kisses those angelic, golden curls. “You’re so pretty, Adrien.”

“He’s more.”

“How so?”

“His nose is crooked,” he mumbles into her cleavage. He’s always felt more safe this way, buried into her chest. “It’s lopsided like he got into a fight but in a way that implies he’s won. He’s got crows feet; he’s old. Almost forties.”

She snorts. “Forties isn’t old.”

“Ancient,” he continues. “And his eyes, wow. Gorgeous. They’re blue, like yours.”

#speakizys #demon lovin #knowing me this might take a few months (years) to show up on ao3 in entirety. here's a treat!

[maria-rayro]

coffeeshop!au, bonus

The sick Du'Met, expectedly, turns out to be a disaster.

The man has very rarely been sick, not least because of his constant wearing of masks and gloves, and therefore he is not used to feeling ill at all. So now even a slight illness is perceived by him as a heavenly punishment for all the sins he had committed in his life.

In addition, he was terribly irritated by his apparent inability to do anything. He was used to doing things all the time, used to being not the one who was taken care of by someone, but the one who took care of someone. And he knew he was perfectly good at it. He was almost a professional at it. And now he has to just lie there and accept the fact that someone is taking care of him? Madness.

Plus, being sick made him think about his childhood, when he fell ill quite often. His mother constantly scolded him for it and made the boy go to school in almost any state of his health. So yes, Granthem did not associate colds and flu with caring kisses on the forehead and chicken soup. Rather with violence and cold indifference.

So the illness made him feel tense, as if his psyche was subconsciously in constant anticipation of a punch or a yell, of some kind of violence. This was not particularly helpful to his recovery. Most of the time he stubbornly pretended to be asleep, covered almost head-to-toe with a blanket.

Charlie walks into the room and, seeing him like this, quietly sighs. After thinking about it, he walks over and sits on the edge of the bed, setting the tray of supper on the bedside table. After hesitating for another minute, he decides to put his hand on the man's shoulder to gently stroke him; he flinches at his touch, as if he'd been struck, and Charlie looks at him confusedly, but doesn't take his hand away. "Granthem, wake up, you need to eat," he says softly, stroking the man's shoulder gently through the thick fabric of the blanket.

Barista sighs heavily, but still relaxes thanks to the gentle touch. He turns around after a couple of long moments, laying on his back and looking tiredly at the softly smiling Lonnit. He looks so cute now, in those blue pajamas Granthem gave him. He's lovely to look at.

Charlie suddenly reaches out and touches his hot forehead with the palm of his hand. "You're really hot," he frowns a little anxiously, about to take his hand away and go get a thermometer, when suddenly Granthem takes him by the wrist, forcing him to continue this pleasant cool touch. He covers his eyes, rubbing his forehead against Charles's cold fingers. "You're just like a cat, Granthem," Lonnit can't hold back a smile and playfully strokes his hair like a beloved kitty. Du'Met smiles faintly. "But that doesn't change the fact that you have a fever, my dear. And we must do something about it," Charles says.

Granthem rolls his eyes, wrapping himself in the blanket again. "Sleep," he replies.

"No, Granthem, you have to eat and take your medicine first," says Lonnit softly but insistently, and then sighs. "I can't believe I was this stupid and self-righteous just a few days ago," he shakes his head. "Granthem, please," he begs piteously, looking at him with his puppy dog eyes. Du'Met looks at this with his lips pressed together. "Please?" Lonnit continues to gently push, and the man surrenders, obediently sitting up on the bed to eat. Charlie immediately brightly smiles, glowing like the sun. He is clearly pleased with his another small victory.

When the man finishes his meal and takes the necessary medicine, he immediately covers himself with the blanket up to his chin, looking at Charles thoughtfully and even longingly. The director smiles at him and reaches out to brush his hair away from the forehead. The man flinches subtly again. "You're like a frightened kitten, Granthem," sighs Lonnit somewhat sadly, because he can guess what might have caused such behavior of his barista. "Who did that to you?" he asks, stroking his hair. The man only sighs, silently covering his eyes. He never liked to talk, and he certainly didn't like to talk about himself and his past.

Charlie sighs, running his palm through the man's hair one last time, and turns around, about to leave to do the dishes, when Granthem suddenly grabs his wrist, silently asking him to stay with him. Lonnit, looking at him, sighs with a soft smile. "You pretend you're perfectly healthy and don't need my help, and then you start acting like you're dying just to make me stay nearby. I always thought you are a very honest and straightforward man, Granthem," he remarks with a smile, obediently, though, lying down beside him, returning his hand to the man's hair.

"I don't like being pathetic," Du'Met replies in a slightly husky voice.

Charlie shakes his head. "You are not pathetic, my dear. I think what you called "pathetic" is actually humaneness," notes Lonnit. "Yes. That's what you are now - a human being."

"Insulting," Du'Met says naggingly to him.

Charlie laughs. "Human and charming," he says, jokingly poking his finger at the tip of the barista's nose and then leaning in to kiss the man, but he dodges. " Oh, come on, don't be so touchy"

"I'm not touchy. It's just that I'll infect you and we'll start this vicious cycle all over again. And we're adults that have chores to do. So don't," he says, pulling the blanket up so that only his eyes are visible. Charlie looks warmly into his eyes with a smile.

"You're so cute," he can't stand it, and Granthem rolls his eyes.

"Just because I'm dying doesn't mean I can't bite you for saying that," he replies grumpily, turning away from the man, feeling embarrassed for probably the first time in his life.

When he recovers, he pretends to be sick for one more day, just so Lonnit can nurse him a bit more.

There's no way he'll ever admit it. Not even to himself.

#charlie lonnit #du'met x charlie #tdim #granthem du'met #du'lie #the devil in me

[coffeeandritalin]

Reactions and questions as I watch episode 5 of Cang Yue Jin Ming/Till the End of the Moon. (Possibility of spoilers ahead)

NUUUUUU don't hurt your birdie friend!

You a**hole!

Okay... I'm glad that birdie friend didn't get hurt. But also, it's real sus that birdie friend didn't get hurt......

Apparently we're in spring now?

Oh I guess the power he used was one that allowed him to see from a bird's eye... but still... surely he didn't know that... sigh...

He's cutting fire?

Oh I guess this is where he starts demonic cultivation? ... or at least starts thinking about it

Okay... i shouldn't laugh that he has a daydream about killing her, but the music they used to bring things back to reality was just too amusing for me

Yeah! That's right! Remember how she saved your life dumdum

KItty!

Ok. I'm legit curious how this story between Xiao Lin and Ye Bingchang plays out. Also, why is she infested with a demon thing?

Ooooh that's why YBC's status is lower than YXW and why YXW is more spoiled. YXW must have been the main wife's daughter.

Xiao Lin just confessed to her... Why doesn't she seem happier? *eyes narrowed in suspicion...*

X-D *DIES* he sent his crow to spy on their conversation X-D he cares and definitely minds that they're alone <3

T.T he was hoping Xiao Lin actually saw him as a friend

But the tea!!!!

Of course... gotta up the drama T.T. Demon/devil boi just wants to be liked by someone T.T

!!! !!! !!! He cried!

?? YBC seems very upset about hearing about Xiao Lin's title. I don't understand enough about Chinese politics (past and present) to understand what this means... On nevermind. It's because she's relegated to only being his concubine.

Of course, they have to make her think it was her older sister and grandma that sabotaged her future status. Gotta give her reasons to turn evil (probably).

*snorts* of course. he's wearing black and red. That wardrobe switch is a little too quick ^_^".

Did he create a death note? Like... is he worried he's going to forget which people he hates? (I mean that's not unheard of IRL but...)

Why is he sniffing his brush? Is this actually a thing cultured people did back then? Or do now? Like... why is he sniffing his brush?

Why is he carrying that brush around? Is it a weapon? Is it his comfort object?

And this is why people are terrified of birds. Fair enough, YXW. Fair enough.

I mean is the fancy wand/brush waving actually necessary? Or is he just having fun? Like, all good if he's just having fun. Just crious...

Oi YBC... Like... I get your abandonment concern and worries here, but it's not like you didn't know the many you married is like super uprighteous... or maybe you didn't know... They did a good job of turning her from a decently likable neutral character to one you want to knock a few times on the head. One can understand why she is the way she is, but one also wants to shake her into regaining some of her sanity.

T.T he stayed his hand when it came to YXW <3

Like it's sad because she's about to be real disappointed, but I think it's really sweet that YXW is concerned for TTJ's safety and doesn't immediately assume he's the one controlling the crows.

I mean... it's sweet that she's trying to protect him, but bye bye birdie friend T.T

Like how she's not sus over how the crows all suddenly disappeared is... i mean i guess... adrenaline is actually one hell of a drug tbf

Did y'all not come home together? Where are you coming from now that you're just now checking him for injuries?

Ah yes... a relationship built on mutually lying to each other. This is going to work out excellently lol

Can't believe I watched 3? 4? Episodes today... Whoops. Oh well.

#till the end of the moon #cyjm #cyjm ep 5 #coffee watches cdramas

[whumpycries]

Bad Blood #4

part one, part two, part three

cw: vampire whumper, human whumpee, blood drinking, noncon elements (nothing explicit, nothing happens), captivity

Rowan kept August pinned to the bed as he carefully manoeuvred the blanket off the prince. He didn’t want that layer of separation between them, now that August was warm enough not to fall sick or die. 

August, very predictably, thrashed and struggled. Or he tried to, with exhaustion weighing him down and on account of Rowan being a vampire with superhuman strength. Rowan grinned, enjoying the weak struggles. August was like a little wet angry kitty. 

August gave up disappointingly soon, and Rowan tilted his head to the side, “You can try more, if you want. You won’t be punished for struggling, especially since I haven’t even told you the rules yet.”

Rowan was straddling his stomach, and was careful to have his knees bear his weight rather than crush August’s stomach. Ah, the lengths he had to go for a human’s sake. But he knew it would be worth it to keep this one around long. 

He put both of August’s wrist in one hand and pinned them above his head, leaning down until his face was inches from the prince’s. He reached out with his free hand to brush against August’s throat, and smiled wider when he shuddered. Rowan could feel his pulse thundering beneath his touch. 

“Are you hungry, darling?” he asked, already knowing the answer. August just glared at him. 

“Yes,” Rowan said, “Of course you are. I am too, actually. I think we can help each other out here, can’t we?” 

“I would really rather not,” August sniped, trying to turn his head away from Rowan, but that only gave him easier access to his neck. 

“I’m afraid you don’t have a choice,” Rowan said, still smiling. He inhaled deeply, revelling in the delicious smell wafting from beneath. He couldn’t wait to sink his fangs in. The little taste from the prince’s arm had been a stunning, torturous appetizer. Teasing, promising. 

Rowan bent down and pressed a cold kiss to the pale stretch of August’s skin, and then licked a long stripe up his throat. August cried out and started thrashing again, trying to buck Rowan off. Rowan tightened his grip around August’s wrists, which made August whimper and go still again. 

Rowan would have to be careful if he didn’t want to fracture or break his wrist. 

Dealing with August was going to be an exercise in restraint, wasn’t it? And Rowan always loved a challenge. 

He pressed another kiss to August’s throat, and then, very carefully, making sure not to hurt him more than necessary, he sank his fangs in. They slid in easily, and he revelled in the way August gasped, his stomach bucking one more time before he went still when the movement caused Rowan’s fangs to jostle inside him. 

Rowan drank, but didn’t release any of his venom. Either kind of it. August hadn’t earned them, not yet. But Rowan looked forward to the time he will. He looked forward to the kind of sounds August might make, then. Sweet music to his ears. 

So, Rowan just drank. The blood wasn’t the best he’d had, but it was certainly up there. What a lucky find. He stopped when he felt August flagging, his breaths quick and shallow, a very obvious tremble wracking his body. 

Reluctantly, he pulled his fangs out, making August gasp again as they dragged against the wound coming out. He wanted the prince weak and compliant, not unconscious. He looked at the thin trail of blood making its way down his neck, a bright red line. There were tears streaming down August’s face, his eyes still welling up with more. 

When he bent his head down again, August gasped out, “No! S-s-stop! You’ll kill me, stop stop stop—”  

Rowan ignored him, only licking the wound close and pressing a kiss to the now scabbed up puncture wounds.

--

next

taglist: @whumpsday @morning-star-whump @whumpy-writings @t0rture-me @octopus-reactivated @whump-queen @pigeonwhumps @whitehairandblood @d-cs

#whump writing #bad blood #vampire whumper #royal whump #captivity whump #human whumpee #vampire whump

[fff777]

Watched Ten on Bam's house!

They both "have a screw missing"

Tiredness + excitement = losing your mind Right you are dude

I JUST recently watched the Nutcracker and only then did I know Waltz of the Flowers was from the Nutcracker. Anyway Bambam has Waltz of the Flowers as his doorbell music?

Ten literally did not move when Bambam jumped out. Plan failed.

Hugs :3

Of course he ordered Thai food

Ten kitty :3

I wonder why Ten and Bambam speak Thai more than Minnie? Or does he mean that when they speak together, they tend to speak in Thai more than when they're speaking with Minnie?

Yes >3 Bambam said that he and Ten would probably speak in Thai a lot.

I've noticed that Bambam is calling Ten Ten-hyung in Korean

LMAO Ten and Bambam only recently had a deep talk where they felt they became friends and this is the second time they're meeting after that deep hang out sesh.

Bambam came back from a world tour just to film Bam's house with Ten XD

Ten had one (1) bad experience with day drinking and it scared him from day drinking ever again...until today? XD

After Ten introduced On My Youth, Bambam was like aight now that work is over, let's PLAY >3

Bambam: Why are you speaking so formally to me, you don't even normally do it >(

Lol Ten is doing that thing that my grandpa supposedly said XD You have to drink at least a bit to be able to control your tolerance.

Bambam: I think you're the best drinker in your group Ten: .....aiya....*blush*

The PD became a fan of Ten after looking him up! :3

Ten's hair is really pretty today btw. The way the tips are a little thinner kind of like a mullet?

Bambam, after Ten introduces On My Youth in Mandarin: 聼不懂啊! Probably picked that up from Jackson and Mark Tuan >3

Was it necessary to include the uhm

Bambam's enjoying Ten speaking in Thai so much

Ten's top 3 hyungs are Taemin, Key, and Yunho

Ten compared choosing between Taemin to having to choose between mom and dad and Bambam immediately went well I prefer mom

Ten watched Bambam on TV X'D

Ten only eats delivery ToT

Aw, Mark Lee often sends Ten birthday wishes right at midnight

LMAO the differences between Mark Lee and Mark Tuan

Nooo Mark Tuan is late with birthday greetings lmao

Ten met Mark Tuan at a YSL event~!

Bambam worried that Ten won't like the somtam he prepared. Probably because Ten knows enough to be able to judge.

Both Bambam and Ten are cat slaves XD

LMAO comparing which cat products they use

Omg the WayV kitties doing the turn trick

Ten scolding his cat in cat hisses XD

Ten's cats: Louis, Leon, Levi Bambam's cats: Pudding, Latte, Cupcake Bambam was like why are your cats' names so cool? Meanwhile he has princess names for his cats lmao.

Ten is too competitive and that's why he doesn't like playing games ToT

GEORGE BUSH

Ten says that he doesn't have as many worries nowadays. I hope that's true ;_;

Ten's drawings are so pretty

Bambam taking a photo of Ten as he draws :3 Two artists in action

Ten's picture for Bam's house :3

Bambam ALWAYS brings up Taeyeon and Ten was all like "oh, Taeyeon would fit this program well." Maybe because it's a homey show and Taeyeon is a homebody :P And every time Bambam just gets so excited and overwhelmed at the thought of him being associated with Taeyeon at all.

Ten: If Taeyeon comes, ask me to come too! Bambam: I think Key would want to come too Ten: It'll be so fun! Bambam: ...but I want to spend alone time with her Ten: ...

Twas fun as usual!!! :3

#screencaps & commentaries #got7 #bambam #nct #wayv #ten #bambam & ten #bam's house