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#corpse fics
faeriekit · 4 months
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"Okay." Danny slowly laid the already cold body back onto the table, ready to slide back it into the refuge of cold storage. "Okay. Dead guy. Stay there."
The body didn't move.
"Fantastic. Now. Hang out while I pour the embalming fluid into the pump, alright? It should only be a minute."
And it usually did; working in a funeral home wasn't extremely glamorous, but it paid the bills, and Danny had already been used to the rhyme and rhythm of negotiating death with the public by the time he sent in his mortuary school application. It had been a transition that made sense. And in the end, the degree had only cost him a few extra years post-graduation and a little dig into student loans, and now Danny had a stable 12-8 job and health insurance valid in the state of new jersey.
Today, though, the pump had that decided enough was enough. With a bang and a boom, the pump spat out a cloud of smoke and clunked uncomfortably.
The dead body sat up.
Danny scrambled over to push it back down. "No. We talked about this. Dead people don't move. If you want to stay here and have me put you back together all the time, you have to stay put. Got it?"
Whatever the weird gold-eye corpses were on in Gotham, they at least listened to him on occasion. They weren't ghosts, per se— they never pinged on any of the ghost detection devices Mom and Dad had packed in his going-away-to-college bag— but they were, despite being occasionally animate, perfectly deceased.
Weird. Danny had never gotten used to it. Still, they came in droves, too eager to sit on the top of the basement stairwell and lurk in the corners and stare endlessly at them with their weird, avian eyes, and sometimes they heralded the arrival similarly weird-ass bodies that had lost their heads or their arms or their limbs through the more conventional channels.
"I'm losing too much thread to all y'all coming in all the time," Danny complained to the dead body, who, at the moment, was the only person present to blame. "Stop getting your limbs cut off. This stuff is expensive, you know. It's a specialty order."
The body didn't even have the courtesy to blink. Rude.
"At least let them bury you this time. Every time one of you darts off when my back's turned, my boss thinks I'm stealing corpses. My coworkers think I'm building my own Frankenstein or something."
The corpse neither verbalized nor blinked, but Danny hadn't expected it to; with a sigh, he rolled the corpse back into cold storage, locked its little door (not that locking it in had ever stopped it) and called it quits for the night.
It's not like anyone was paying him for the extra hours anyway.
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whaliiwatching · 2 months
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gay people judging you
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ep-10 · 5 months
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The Corpse in a Backpack - Ecto-Implosion event fic by Browa123 and images by me. It was a really fun event seeing this concept gets a fic!
Full fic now available in this link: The Corpse in a Backpack
Summary:
Danny's usual ghost fighting routine is turned upside down when one of his enemies returns something to him that he forgot he lost. With the truth that Danny Fenton is dead exposed to the world, Danny has no choice but to hide from the people he doesn't know just want to help him.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/51885925
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anonymousangstmonster · 3 months
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Prompt #46
When Danny went into the portal, nothing came out, no ghost, no traumatized but still partially alive kid walked out. His fried corpse left slowly rotting in the unseen inside of the portal, somewhat preserved by the high levels of ectoplasm circulating through.
Months later, Maddie deactivated the portal to inspect the inside for any flaws that might cause the machine to malfunction.
She let out a blood-curdling scream when she found the ashen dead body of her previously missing son. His eye sockets were hollowed out pits of blackness, his skin was grey and crusty, his veins were black, she could see the shape of his skeleton under his skin. It was horrifying, but it was undeniably him.
She jumped back and out of the portal frame, collapsing into sobs as she realized where her son had been all this time and what had happened to him.
Danny awoke face up in the darkness of the portal, the only sounds he could hear were the wiring of various machines and a woman crying. He weakly lifted his hand to feel his face, it was dry and missing some bits. He tried to stand but immediately collapsed onto his hand and knees, so he started crawling towards the exit.
When he saw his mother heaving sobs a couple yards away from him, he tried to get her attention, his attempt at saying ‘mom’ come out more as a groan or moan, curtesy of his decayed vocal cords and stiff half-rotted lips.
You always see fics where his parents find his body in the back of the portal and connect the dots to realize Phantom’s Danny, but have you ever seen a fic where there is no ghost, only the body, but that body is still Danny?
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ghostbsuter · 5 months
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The notification came not even a second ago, and it had him fly across the city just as fast.
Nightwing barely acknowledged the thrum of the Batmobil following closely behind, already on his way to west end of Gotham City.
"5 Assasins in view, more possibly hidden away. A child, around 11, leading them." Oracle's voice was clipped in the way Dick knew she didn't like this.
This screamed like a trap, why else would the League of Assassins be in Gotham of all places?
He lands on the roof, tense and gripping his escrima sticks tightly.
Batman is on his tail, taking over lead, and they are near the group of unwanted guests.
He sees Red Robin on the other roof, backup if needed.
The child clicks his tongue at the sight of them, shaking head with a grumble. "Danyal, Father has found us, we should get this over quickly."
The amount of shock and confusion he feels makes him wonder if it were a dream.
Another click of tongue but not from the child in front of them, no. It was another child re-appearing from the invisible spectrum.
His hand around the throat of a limp talon.
"I didn't think he would be so fast." The other child comments.
"As expected of father." The first child, green eyed and serious nods. Towards batman.
"Now, for the reason we are here."
He steps to the edge of the building, and Nightwing desperately wants to get him from it, clearing his throat.
"I, Damian al Ghul, heir to the demon's head, formally declare war on the Court of Owls." Damian's voice is loud, unforgiving and unrelenting. Eyes burning.
It almost made him miss the words he spoke.
"The League of Assassins has a claim to Gotham," the boy spits. "And i won't let some society take it from us."
The unnamed twin throws the limp talon from the edge with a grunt. "Take that as a warning!" He halfheartedly shouts after.
And so it began.
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weirdosreignhere · 1 year
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DP X DCU PROMPT #2
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Instead of Summoning the Ghost King, they summon his Weakness
——
The Justice League has heard rumors of the Ghost King Pariah Dark, and coincidentally they interrupt a summoning of said Ghost King, but after subduing the cult the group discovers that the runes are different but can’t understand their meaning. With no way to stop the madman from arriving, the Bat Clan waits with dread, hoping the containment shield holds.
What they don’t know is that the previous King had been defeated and now another, much kinder, king rules: Danny Phantom. They also don’t realize the runes have changed. Summoning not the king himself but his closest ties to the mortal plane; his greatest weakness.
What the League does expect is a mad king hellbent on destruction, but what they don’t expect is a child’s corpse, blackened skin barely hanging onto the charred bones that now lies at the center of the summoning circle.
Elsewhere, a certain young halfa suddenly goes absolutely batshit, the only thought running through his head is ITS GONE ITS GONE THEY TOOK IT WHO TOOK IT WHOTOOKIT—
Cue: chaos.
——
@thatrandomsarahchick @hnymp @alinmenttreasure @demon-cat-goes-woof @tiblii @yukkikatsuki @skulld3mort-1fan @thewondersoflebanon @spectralstardustandphantomnights @silvergreeneye @apointlessbox @gin2212 @idontgetpaidenoughforthisshit @dannyphantomphan @arc-777 @akikoyuii @persephoneblackrose @rosecinnamonbun@chaoticchange @undead-essence
STORY NOW POSTED BY @thatrandomsarahchick
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ayyy-imma-ninja · 22 hours
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“Is this the part where you interrogate me again?” he asks you. There’s amusement in his tone, yet his posture tells you he’s willing to comply. You nod, and he clicks his nonexistent tongue. “Boo~ And here I thought you missed me~”
You fight the corners of your mouth from rising as you give a roll of your eyes. “Standard procedure,” you tell him, plucking your handy notepad and pen from your coat pocket. “Just like last time.”
“Is it not procedure to do this at the station?” 
“That is the usual place, yes,” you say, giving your pen life as you swirl circles in the corner of the page to get ink flowing, “for officers to maintain control and ensure the safety of others.” You lift your eyes to him. “As someone who is qualified to do both, I trust you’ll keep yourself composed?”
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illustrations for chapter 4 below cut (tw for the first one, "blood")
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kaicubus · 6 months
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Being with Victor Van Dort
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₊˚⊹♡ ∘₊ ───────────── ₊˚⊹♡ ∘₊ ─────────────── ₊˚⊹♡ ∘₊
warnings ✩° : fluff headcanons, no cursing, sweet victor, some implied sexual headcanons but it's not a sexual movie i just LOVE victor so bad ugh i need him, kaicubus british accent.
pairing ✩° : victor van dort x mostly gn!reader
authors note ✩° : nothing is done about him so as usual, i'm stepping up to the plate. tall skinny emo boy IM COMING FOR YOU. why do i want to do more? thinks. i'm trying to get my halloween fics out guys i promise...
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To say Victor would do anything for you in and outside of his power is such an understatement. He has such little power in what he does compared to other people, especially suitable bachelors, but he tries so hard with what he has.
You two meet because your parents need you two to be wed, so of course, he's a stranger. A very kind, and understanding stranger who at times feels like he's so brittle around you he'll break at any second.
He bumps into you? Victor scurries away. You look at him? Victor slams himself into the wall in the process. He kind of loses composure around you.
When he warms up to you eventually, Victor actually talks about his interests a lot. You find out he's an excellent musician, talented in piano and violin, an exceptional artist, and he's an avid reader who enjoys dark poetry.
He's still very insecure about the idea of you loving him or at least liking him, but he'll never bother you with questions because he doesn't want to seem needy (but he is so needy). If his insecurities do get the best of him, Victor will ask gently, "Do you actually like me? If not, I get it. I'm not rich nor strong enough to support and provide for us, I just want to be sure." Of course, you answer him honestly and he's over the moon when you tell him you actually do love him.
Victor notices things about you that no one else would notice, like the amount of moles you have on your left arm, if you prefer crowded areas or not, and if you cut your hair just a few inches to the point where it's not even that noticeable.
Speaking of, if you're ever at a ball or a place where there's a lot of people and you're not comfortable with crowds, Victor will take you away to a secluded area and calm you down from there.
He is overly apologetic. Sometimes it gets slightly annoying with how much he does it, but you never react negatively and always reassure him. Victor will apologize even if you're the one who caused something, blaming it all on himself so you don't feel bad at all.
Victor's love language is surely words of affirmation as he loves to give you endearing complements but also he feels good receiving them. He doesn't expect anything, because that's the least of your worries he thinks, but even so much as a simple flick of his hair and saying how nice it looks that day drives him absolutely mad.
However, when he compliments you, he's never short of charming. Victor catches you off guard sometimes when he reminds you how 'ravishing you look' or 'how you put the stars to shame with your glittering smile.' Usually he draws parallels with you and the stars, moon, sun, or flowers. He always makes you feel seen.
Naturally, as your husband, Victor is protective over you. He's never one to start a fight over a worthless scum trying to flirt with you, but he's not shy to let his presence be known and to grab you by the waist into his thin frame.
Calls you my love, darling, my beloved, and gorgeous.
Loves receiving. Victor will never ask anything of you, sure, but he won't deny it when it happens. He loves being kissed first, he loves being pulled down to kiss you, he loves being marked in hickeys especially on his collar bone, all of that.
One very specific thing is that Victor really enjoys dressing you and putting your makeup on. There's just something about the silent intimacy of sliding on your dress, gliding the thin fabric of tights on, tightening your corset, and delicately lining your lips with a dark, rose red lipstick that he loves so much. Even if he can't do the whole outfit, you'll still allow him to do your makeup or brush your hair.
Victor also likes things a very specific way. Not that he's controlling, he's far from it, but little things like overlined or underlined lipstick makes him fidgety. He'll swipe his thumb over your cupid's bow if that's the case and pretend like nothing happened.
He writes long, lengthy love letters. Sometimes explicit ones if he isn't there with you. He's uh, good at writing!
Victor shivers a lot. Take that as you will.
Loves painting portraits of you.
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fl3shm4id3n · 7 months
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ₕᵢₛ Cₒᵣₚₛₑ Bᵣᵢdₑ?
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𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭, 𝐀𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫?
ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ᴀꜱᴛᴀʀɪᴏɴ x ꜰᴇᴍ! ᴢᴏᴍʙɪᴇ/ᴄᴏʀᴘꜱᴇ ʙʀɪᴅᴇ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ
Tw: Resurrections? Zombie stuff, eye popping out, reader is a bit oblivious, mean astarion, a bit of angst.
A/N: I always wanted to do something with Corpse Bride since I love that movie.
Masterlist
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Astarion was out in the woods, he had finished feeding, but he didn't want to go back to the camp just yet. He wanted to enjoy the night, specially the full moon, it looked beautiful. As he walked around the forest, he thought about doing something fun, like repeat some vows he'd heard a while back. It was probably silly, but why not is not like on one will hear them. So there he was, repeating those vows in the most dramatic way possible, it sounded like a poem. He didn't forget a word, he said them perfectly, he sounded almost as if he was actually telling them to somebody.
Afterwards, he thought about heading back, but before he could leave. He felt something grab his ankle. It felt like a hand, looking down, he literally saw a blue hand gripping tightly onto his ankle. He tried to get the hand off him, but the grip was strong, after struggling a bit, he managed to get away. Except the hand was still attached to his ankle, he removed the now arm throwing it away. Then he saw how the ground began to move, instead of running, he only watched as the dirt began to move around. Then he saw a head, covered with a veil pop out, followed by their other hand which helped them dig themselves out. All he could do was watch, almost in horror.
The figure was finally out, it was a woman. Dressed in what a bride would wear, except her white dress is covered in dirt and roots, along the vain. She then removed the vail away from her face, revealing herself. Her skin was a light blue, a bit of her left cheek was missing, her eyes were those grey-bluish color, her lips a pinkish color. Her hair was also blue, but a much darker tone. Her skin still seemed to be intact, she hasn't completely decompose, but she was beginning to do so slowly. her sclera was yellow and decorated with red veins. The left side of her ribs had a chunk missing, as if she was stabbed. She seemed to have been murdered not that long ago. The woman looked at him dead in the eyes and she gave him smile. "I do." She whispered back to him.
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Next thing he knew, you began to follow him around. He tried to explain to you that it was merely him just jesting and he didn't expect you to take his words seriously. But you didn't seem to care, you were just happy to have a husband like you've always wanted. The next day Astarion told everyone in the camp what had happed, they were surprised that you, a living corpse was technically alive but not really. Tav didn't seem to mind you tagging along, as log as you didn't put youself and others in danger, if they didn't have an issue, neither did the others.
You were attached to Astarion, who you'd refer to him as your husband. He'd nag at you that he wasn't, but he did not care, you'd still call him your husband and tell others that he was the now love of your life. He grew tired of it and just played along with it. He wouldn't call you his wife, only by your name. You didn't mind at all. You tried getting to know him, what his interests were along with his back story. You were very curious about your now husband, you wanted to learn almost everything about him. Besides that, people found it a bit odd that you, a corpse was walking around dressed as a bride, telling everyone about your husband.
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That night the party was at an inn, after helping the small village with something. Astarion wanted to leave the room, maybe find someone to bed. But there was a problem, you. He needed to come up with some excuse, so he did. He said that he was going out for a walk, you thought about joining but he told you that he wanted you to stay in the inn because he had a surprise for you, so without hesitation in staying in the room. After you made yourself comfortable, he left. To find someone to have a bit of fun with. He did, he found a woman, who seemed to be also looking for the same thing as him.
It was while, he had completely forgot about you in the inn. He was focused on getting the woman to fall for his charm. He was too into it that he didn't notice you coming right behind him. "I'm sorry, I couldn't help myself, I was wanted to see if-" you stopped mid sentence. You saw how Astarion and the woman got a bit close to one another. It was awkward. You then grabbed his arm and pulled him close to you. "Darling, who is this?" you asked him, looking at the woman. The woman was shocked at what she was seeing. "Who is she?" she asked Astarion who was silent. "I'm his wife." You stated to her. "She is?" The woman said, then Astarion spoke. "Wait you don't understand, she's dead." He said, taking your boney hand and giving it a shake, making your bones rattling. You then removed your hand from his grip and glared at him.
Back in the room, you were not happy and it was obvious. "You lied to me! Just so that you could go and find comfort in some woman!" You accused him, crossing your arms over your chest upset. "Come on, did you really think that you were the only one?" he said smugly. "Yes! You're married to me! You shouldn't be looking for another woman!" You then began to cry into your hands. Actual tears or what could be considered tears were flooding from your eyes. "I thought, this was going so well." You sobbed, then out of nowhere your right eye had popped out of your socket, making it roll across the room. You didn't seem to care about that at the moment. Astarion then picked it up and gave it a small clean before handing it back to you. "Look, I'm sorry, but this just can't work." He said honestly. "Why not?" You asked, taking your eye back. "Its my eye isn't it?" you asked again, while putting your eye back in your socket.
"No, your eye is... lovely." He said a bit awkwardly. "Is.. in a different circumstances, well. Who knows, we're just to different. You're dead." he argued. "But so are you." You said in tears, you went silent, then added. "Y-You should have thought about that before you asked me to marry you." You stated to him. "Why can't you understand, it was a mistake. I would never marry you." He finished with an annoyed tone. Your eyes widen by his confession, this made your non beating heart break, you sighed. Walking out of the room to leave. Astarion watched you leave, sadden by how he talked to you. He couldn't help but feel guilty now. Was he really feeling guilt? That's new, he felt awful now. You didn't do anything wrong, you were vulnerable and innocent. You'd never hurt a fly or anyone. He felt like an idiot. He needed to apologize to you, but first he wanted to give you your space to try and figure out on how to apologize. Something he's never done in two hundred years.
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otaku553 · 11 months
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A certain first encounter
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faeriekit · 4 months
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#i'm very pro danny accidentally adopts a whole bunch of talons previous installments
*
The next day, the body was back.
The green was gone from its eyes, but the awareness wasn't; it spent about an hour watching people go around outside Danny's apartment, which was new behavior. None of the corpses that shadowed him had shown any interest in garden-variety humans before. Now it sat at the window and watched families come home from school or head to their afternoon shifts.
That went into Danny's notes.
After that hour, it taught itself to flush the toilet repeatedly, rearranged the contents of Danny's half-assed linen closet (again) and then stood hovering over the safe where Danny had stashed the ectoplasm.
"...Okay," said Danny.
The dead body croaked. It was a new sound, but there was no context for it. Danny just kind of...wrote it down and hoped for the best.
The day after, Danny woke up at a very reasonable ten forty eight in the morning to find stray corpses feeding each other spoonfuls of ectoplasm in the kitchen.
At that point he kind of had to throw out the notes on how much each one was dosed with, because what the fuck.
"Really?!" Danny shouted, spooking the bodies into fleeing behind chairs and doors and back into his closet again. The only one that didn't flee was Danny's ringmaster corpse of the hour, of course. "You really couldn't wait??"
It stuck out a withered black tongue out at the mortician, who was, really, the victim in all of this. A victim to his parents' whims and a victim to the dead people who followed him around all the time.
This was how Danny found out that, when it doubt, the corpses could just tear through solid steel if they were motivated enough. The finger-marks were so deep and so embedded that they actually looked more like rough claws in the metal.
Great.
Danny ordered a new locking cage for the fridge on Prime and darted off to work. One of his regulars was on the table, though, so Danny just ended up doing what he would have at home— sewing up a gash in its neck and reattaching dead fingers back onto dead stumps.
On the third day, in which four of Danny's frequent fliers had learned from the first how to flush the toilet (and therefore raise the water bill immensely) Danny got a ring from a dark voice he (almost) recognized.
"Is he here?"
Danny squinted, jerking the phone further under his ear as he whipped up some scrambled eggs. The dead girl leaning over his shoulder leaned a little closer to watch the egg froth up. "Is who here? Who is this?"
"This is Batman. Is— the body requisitioned from your facility currently at your place of residence?"
Danny fully let go of the whisk. It landed haphazardly in the glass bowl he'd been stirring in. "What on Earth is a Batman?" he asked, incredulous.
"I visited your workplace previously."
Oh! "Yeah, the cop's friend. I remember now." Danny pulled the whisk out of the liquid eggs and held it out to the body. The unusually animate cadaver mostly prodded the whisk wires and paid no attention to him. "No one's here but me, though. Not that it's your business...?"
"And there are no non-living bodies currently in your apartment?"
Danny ignored the flushing noise in the other room. "I don't know, dude. They practically live in the walls at this point. Don't come over unless you have a warrant."
The call ended with a click.
His omelette turned out amazing, by the way. In case you were wondering.
On the fourth day, the ectoplasm was gone, because the corpses had apparently all taught each other how to lockpick the container in the fridge.
"Okay, some of that was meant to be my dinner. No more lotion at the funeral home now, okay? Now you all can be ashy forever. I'm so serious," Danny complained to the only visible dead person in the room.
The dead person held up a cracked egg. It was probably a gesture of peace, but now there was egg on his vinyl flooring to deal with. And. It wasn't exactly all that comforting in the end.
On the fifth day, Danny awoke to the sensation of a hand jamming itself through his neck until it punched into the mattress beneath him.
Fuck.
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minnesota-fats · 1 year
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Batman getting a case file from Jim Gordon of a John Doe found dead after a mass shooting. When Batman asked if Gordon just needed help finding out who the body was Jim’s like “no, the John Doe is Daniel James Fenton. But the thing is that this is the fifth body of his we found.”
The chaos that would cause!!!!
But like what if the BatFam try to rope Phantom into it and he just awkwardly having to explain that it’s HIS dead bodies they keep finding cuz he keeps accidentally getting shot in crossfire of gang violence cuz he lives on the streets.
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artingstarvist · 1 month
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Chapter 3 / 14 "Anger & Frustration"
Summary: Hua Cheng grapples with his anger issues; Xie Lian grapples with his language issues.
Additional Tags: Coffin Rescue, Coffin AU, AU - Canon Divergence, AU - Different First Meeting, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Identity Reveal, Revenge Plot, POV Alternating, Blood and Injury, Dream-Reality Confusion, Canon-Typical Violence, Hua Cheng AND Xie Lian have Self Esteem issues, Hua Cheng & Xie Lian Invented Love, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, Hua Cheng bout to make it 34 gods
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Chapter 3 is up! Also forcing you to look at actual post-coffin Xie Lian I'm so, so sorry lmao. What have I done to my beautiful boyyy.
(I keep having to remind myself he canonically did get stuffed into a coffin for many years I'm actually doing him a favor in this fic)
Oh also, I updated the tags a bit now that I got the rough draft done. This one definitely counts as Slow Burn and Mutual Pining. 😁
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anonymousangstmonster · 2 months
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Prompt #53
“So where’d you guys bury it?” Danny said walking over to the trio’s usual lunch table.
Sam paled as she looked over to Tucker. “Bury what?”
“My body.”
Tucker started to tremble. “We didn’t bury it.”
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sheepiemc · 7 months
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Seven Stupid Reasons to Summon a Demon
Reason #1: lonely
It was a day that started like any other. 
Your alarm went off (like always). 
You got ready for work (like always). 
You commuted (like always). 
You did your job for four hours (like always). 
Then, it was time for lunch. 
Normally, you opt to stay inside “the office” (or wherever it is that you work) and bring something from home to save money. But looking at your lunch — the same thing you eat almost every day — makes you sigh. 
You look out the window to the city down below. It was a gloomy morning, but now that it is midday, the sun is starting to shine through the clouds. A beam of sunlight lands on your skin and you enjoy the warmth. The ring on your finger catches the light and you look down at it. 
How ridiculous would it be to summon a demon to have lunch with you because you don’t want to eat alone? You banish the thought from your mind. You don’t want to disturb the demon you were thinking of; you are certain he has a lot on his plate (like always) and he wouldn’t appreciate being  bothered with something so trivial (like always). 
You sigh and look outside again. Maybe the fresh air will do you some good. You decide to spend your lunch break walking around downtown just because you can. Honestly, you don’t know why you don’t do this more often. You can find a lot of hidden gems this way. 
You wander around aimlessly before you happen upon a record store. It's just a little hole-in-the-wall place, mostly unassuming. When you step in, however, you're greeted by a music-lover's paradise. Multi-colored vinyl records, signed band posters, and album covers decorate the walls. The atmosphere is groovy and retro, speaking to a bygone era of funk and flower power. There’s even a disco ball hanging from the ceiling! You take in the scenery for a moment as you stand in the doorway. 
“‘Sup.” The guy behind the counter greets you without looking up. “If there’s anything you need help with or want to listen to let me know.” You nod, even though he isn’t looking at you, and go to explore the stacks. 
Your fingertips brush past rows and rows of records. You search all your favorite genres, looking out for your favorite bands, and find some gems. You don’t have a lot of money right now, so you can’t go crazy. You twist the ring on your finger as you contemplate what to get.
Actually, now that you think about it…
Maybe you can find something to add to your “special collection”. 
See, you were inspired by a certain demon to develop a “cursed” record collection of your own. Since cursed magical items are hard to come by on earth, whenever you find yourself in a place that sells records, you like to check out the classical music section for albums that feature, or are inspired by the devil. It's something you like to share with him and only him. After shuffling through the stacks, you find something you think will work. You smile impishly to yourself, proud of your new purchase.  
You make it through the rest of the workday thinking about the record. You aren't going to listen to it just yet; you like to share the experience with the devil himself. It's a good excuse to summon him from the Devildom — well, good enough for you anyway. You like to have a few more albums to listen to before you call him, so you don't feel as guilty for asking him to stay a bit longer. 
You take a deep breath when you finally arrive in your quiet room, in your now-still apartment. You place the record on top of the others and take a look around — empty, except for your cat, sleeping peacefully on your bed. You could invite friends over to fill the silence, but your friends are notoriously terrible at last-minute plans. You absentmindedly twist the ring on your finger. 
You need something to fill this oppressive quiet, your fingers itch and ache, you have to DO something. 
You have to play the piano. 
You go out to your living room, where you keep a digital piano. It’s a little fancier than a regular old keyboard but you live in a small apartment and you're not exactly rolling in it so it's the best you can do. 
The room is dark. 
You hate the silence. 
You sit at the bench and flex your fingers, hovering above the black and white keys. No sheet music, right now you just need to play your emotions. You play a low note and listen to it reverberate. 
Then a chord. 
Then another. 
You close your eyes and start improvising a melancholic melody over a haunting chord progression. You are so lost in what you’re creating you don't notice the blue light flooding the dark room. It’s gone almost as soon as it arrived and it brings with it a figure covered in shadow, a figure you also don’t notice. He stands tall in the center of your room, tilting his head to the side as he listens. Once he gathers what happened intuitively, he stands over you, proudly watching you pour your potent emotions into your playing. 
You strike a final chord and exhale loudly, ruminating on the final note. You gasp lightly when a teardrop you didn't notice falls from your face onto the keys. 
You nearly jump out of your skin when another chord is struck up the piano. The shadow figure reveals himself to be the very demon you were thinking about while playing. Lucifer doesn't look at you as he continues to play a lighter melody. Your hands jump away from the keys and press against the rapidly beating heart in your chest.
He continues to play, not yet sitting. His sketch sounds hopeful, almost as if to say, "I'm glad to have you with me again." He sneaks a glance at you and smirks, finally taking a seat on the bench next to you. You just watch him, absolutely mesmerized, still in shock that he's really in front of you. 
He stops playing and looks at the keys closest to you, a signal — it's your turn again. Your melody is more playful than moody this time, there's a lightness now that wasn’t there before. Lucifer responds with something firm and grounded. When it's your turn, you tickle your way closer to his side. He gets lower, too. You scoot closer. From the corner of your eye, you see him smile a little bit wider. In the middle of his turn, you start playing again and together you improvise a beautiful, colorful piece of music together, full of happiness and longing, celebrating each other. 
When you can’t contain your excitement any longer, you interrupt the song and throw your arms around him. The force of you throwing your entire body weight at him only pushes him over slightly — he’s quick to catch you in his arms, twisting his torso to face you. 
“I can’t believe you’re here,” you say into his neck. It comes out as barely a whisper. 
You feel more than hear the chuckle rumble in his chest. “You’re the one who summoned me here.” 
You pull back just enough to look at him. “Would you believe me if I said I didn’t do it on purpose?” 
He looks at the keys on the digital piano. “Something was calling out to me.” 
“I guess I’ve been kinda lonely today… And I was thinking about you… A lot…” 
Lucifer hums contentedly, stern lines on his face smoothing out. Obviously, he likes it when you stroke his ego. 
You roll your eyes playfully and bury your face in his neck again. “I’m sorry for summoning you by accident, I know you're very busy but…” You play with his tie. “Can you stay here a bit, with me?” 
Lucifer sighs softly. You steel yourself for the words you're sure will come out of his mouth, “I can’t” or “Not right now”. 
“MC, I don’t think you realize that I want to see you just as much as, if not more so than, you want to see me.” He traces his finger along your jaw and lifts your chin so that you're looking at him. “If I’ve made you think I feel otherwise, that is my fault and I must apologize.” 
You feel your heart skip a beat when the Avatar of Pride apologizes to you, a lowly human. You’re in such a state of shock, you don’t know what to say so Lucifer continues to fill the silence. “If I had the ability to summon you to my side whenever I wanted, I can’t say I wouldn’t abuse that power greatly.” 
His hand rests at the side of your face, thumb wiping another tear you didn’t even know fell. You got so used to that rowdy house in the Devildom, so full of people and chaos, that coming home to your quiet, little one-bedroom apartment in the human world every day has been wearing you down. More tears start to flow as the weight of your loneliness comes crashing down on you.
You hold him tighter and press your face into his shoulder, hiding in embarrassment. “I’m sorry, I’m such a mess,” you say, laughing.  
He chuckles. “Don’t apologize. I appreciate all aspects of you. Even when you are a mess.” 
You sit on the piano bench for what you wish was all eternity but is likely only about 10 minutes before you reluctantly untangle yourself from the demon you unwittingly called to this realm. 
“Well, since you're here…” You stand, pull him from the bench, and lead him to your bedroom… where you keep your records! You present him with the newest addition to your collection with a wide smile. 
He takes it from your hands and looks at the cover thoughtfully. He reads the title out loud, “The Mephisto Waltz & Other 'Satanic' Piano Music Of Franz Liszt - John Ogdon”. 
He looks back at you. “Interesting,” he says in the most uninterested tone. You laugh out loud, you thought he might like that. 
“Well, if you don’t want to listen to it, I can just-” You reach for the record but he pulls it out of your reach. 
“I never said that.” 
He walks over to your record player and carefully sets it up while you sit on the edge of your bed. When the music starts up, you're surprised by how fast-paced it is but you're still into it. Luci looks at your desk chair meaningfully then back at you. You scowl and shake your head slightly, tapping the edge of the bed next to you. He smiles and sits down beside you.
You lean against him, sneakily snaking your arms around his middle, and play with one of his hands. 
You feel him relax, almost imperceptibly, leaning into your touch. He chuckles, and softly says under his breath, “This brings back memories.” 
He closes his eyes and you lift your head to stare at him, left wondering whatever the hell he meant by that. You would ask, but he loves to be intentionally vague whenever you bring up his involvement in the lives of humans from the past. 
"This isn't what I thought this song would be," you quietly admit as you play with his gloved fingers. 
"Oh?" 
"It's called a waltz, so I thought, you know, we would be able to dance to it…"
"You wish to dance with me?" He says in a teasing tone, one that makes your face feel hot. 
"WELL, I JUST THOUGHT-"
"That would be fairly amusing…" He says, almost more to himself than to you.
He uses his free hand to lift your chin up so that you're looking at him. If your face wasn't red before, it definitely is now. 
"It was a silly idea, we don't-" 
"No, no. I believe I would like to dance with you as well." 
His smile is rather wolfish as he stands from your bed and pulls you up along with him. The next song on the record starts and it isn't very apt for a dance, either.
"The music-" You begin to protest before Lucifer snaps his finger and the record begins to glow with a blue light. A record scratch abruptly interrupts the music when Chopin's Waltz in A minor, B. 150 starts to flow through the speaker. 
He pulls your body to the proper position, one hand on your waist, the other cradling yours. Of course, he'll lead. You roll your eyes playfully. 
"Do you remember how to do this?" He asks, amused. 
"Pshh, of course I do," you say right before accidentally stepping on his foot. "Oop, sorry." 
He chuckles. "Follow my lead." 
And you do. You dance around your little room, only stepping on him a few more times before you get the hang of it again. ("It's been a long time, okay??") You twirl and pivot, avoiding tiny obstacles around your room, laughing when you attempt to take the lead by spinning him out and back into your arms. 
He finishes the dance by lifting you by the waist and spinning around. You giggle uncontrollably, feeling lighter than you have in months. When he brings you back down, you lace your hands together behind his neck and put your head on his shoulder. The music shifts to something soft that you can slow dance to. His arms tighten around your waist, holding you close as you sway together. 
“I really needed this,” you say. “I’ve missed you guys so much.”
You feel him stiffen slightly at the remark. You smile to yourself, delighted that something so small could affect him. 
You look up at him, “I’ve missed you most, of course.”
He smiles down at you and the affection you see in his eyes is so genuine, it embarrasses you. “It’s always a pleasure to see you, MC.”
You look down to hide your quickly reddening face. “I wish I could summon you more often but I know you’re very busy. I hope I didn’t interrupt anything important.”
“Oh, yes,” Lucifer hums, as if he has to think hard about what he was doing before this, “I believe I was in a meeting with Lord Diavolo.”
“Lord Diavolo!?” Your eyes widen with panic. You push yourself away to look him straight in his face, hoping he’s just teasing you. 
His wolfish grin returns as he smooths down a lock of hair that is out of place on your head. “Yes, but it was one of those frivolous meetings he likes to trick me into. ‘Oh, Lucifer, you must try this bottle of Demonus I found in the depths of the labyrinthine cellar.’ Nothing truly important, I promise.”
Relief quickly washes over you and you relax back into his embrace. “So... I get to keep you a little longer?” 
“Tonight?” His hold around you tightens. “You may keep me as long as you wish.”
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starry-bi-sky · 1 month
Text
more cfau miscellaneous things because Childhood Friends Danny and Jason have my head and heart always and I need to finish rewriting chapter two dammit (and redo the half-finished chapter 4 because its just Not The Vibes). i'm almost through I need to get through the graveyard scene. (i just stubbornly refuse to have it be shorter than the original chapter and thats the little death. that is the mind killer.)
Danny and jason’s ghost forms both smell faintly like burnt flesh and cigarettes. However, Jason has a more smokey smell while Danny’s smells almost,,, electrical? In a sense? Like he just straight up smells like burnt flesh and sulphur while Jason smells like someone put him in a smoker first.
It’s very much an unpleasant smell but Danny finds an odd comfort in it just as much as he finds a comfort in the smell of nicotine.
(Jason post-revival smells burnt flesh once and is immediately offput by the fact that it brings him an instinctive comfort. He doesn’t realize its because it reminds him of Danny, and is uncomfortable by it.)
-
In an au of an au, Danny’s altercation with Rath ends with Rath regaining enough of his sanity to snap out of the grieving state and ends with him breaking down. Instead of being souped and imprisoned, Rath, who is permanently 14, decides to Move On into the unknown. He’s exhausted, heartbroken, and tired.
(Is this influenced heavily by the ParaNorman scene where he talks to Agatha and helps her move on? Yes. But it doesn’t fit with the Original Storyline so im shoving it into an Au of an Au.)
Rath tells Danny that Jason lied to them (which he genuinely believes), and that he’s tired of waiting/looking for him/grieving. Jason is gone. He isn’t coming back, he abandoned them. And he wants his mom and dad, and his sister, and his friends. And he’s ready to join them.
He leads Danny out to Gotham, which other than Amity Park might’ve been the only city left untouched due to Rath’s own mental block on the place. They go out to the park he and Jason used to frequent or up to one of crime alley’s rooftops, and there Rath lies down and goes to sleep. Only to never wake up again, materializing into nothing as his soul moves on.
Before Rath leaves, he forces Danny to promise him that he’ll only wait for Jason for ten years. After that if he doesn’t find him, or if Jason doesn’t show, then Danny has to move on. Whether that be like how Rath does, or if its inly mentally/emotionally, doesn’t matter. He has to move on. Don’t wait for him. Don’t waste his time any more.
(“Oh, and if you find him, kick his ass for me.”)
Danny reluctantly agrees, and Rath lies down. Danny sings to him as he falls asleep.
(Angsty points if the vigilantes including Red Hood caught wind of their presence and were silently watching from the shadows. Rath might know they’re there, but Danny’s too focused on Rath to notice.)
(If only so that Red Hood realizes that this is what happened to Danny, and that Danny is gone before he can make things right. The tragedy, folks. The angst. The initial realization that Danny was Rath, and then also that Danny was dead and has been dead for years, and that before he moved on, he moved on believing that Jason abandoned him.)
(like i said it doesn't fit in the original timeline/storyline hence why its an au of an au and isn't nearly a fleshed out, but i was largely just focusing on the tragedy of Rath moving on and Jason being alive to see it and realize just who Rath is.)
-
Just like how the Lazarus pits shot Jason's twiggy 4'6-5'4 (depending on what you find) feet tall and 86lb ass up like a tree an essentially fixed his malnutrition, the portal did the same thing for Danny.
(granted i forgot about malnutrition and danny's likely stunted growth at first -- his family lived in crime alley and despite both his parents working, I don't think they had enough food all the time. He probably wasn't as badly malnourished as Jason was, but he wasn't healthy either.)
Granted his ghost in its "natural" state (14) is short, and his growth spurts were slow at first, it did result in him reaching his dad's height. There were points where it just happened overnight, like a baby. He went to bed one night 5’6 and woke up the next day 5’10.
Jazz is shorter than him. Although I have't decided if she's even liminal at all (and if she is, it didn't cure everything because she would have also suffered childhood malnutrition, and since in au canon their parents didn't get their hands on physical ectoplasm until after they got to Amity Park. So the exposure is less.)
-
Danny's voice absolutely sounds like canon Dan's. It kinda just dropped one day when he was 16-17 and never went back up. Sam and Tucker sometimes ask him to just talk about anything because they find his voice soothing.
I'm not sure yet how Danny would feel about it at first considering Rath, but I imagine that Rath, when he did speak, would have had a quieter and scratchier/weaker voice considering he's spent the last decade shrieking and crying.
(and i suppose technically that shouldn't have any effect on his throat considering he's a ghost and idk if that would actually affect him, but i like the idea so im keeping it)
In the beginning you could hear him from a mile away by the sound of his loud, echoing wails, but ten years later you can only really hear him by the soft, shuddering sobs he makes. Like he's gasping for air that isn't there. The future is full of very quiet survivors.
And it's much easier to speak when you pitch your voice upwards (especially when whispering/speaking quietly) so he might've spoken in a higher, airy pitch in order to be heard. So Danny might actually find a comfort in having a lower voice.
#tw mentions of gore#cw gore#i suppose this counts as gore#dp x dc#danny fenton is not the ghost king#dp x dc crossover#dpxdc#dpxdc crossover#childhood friends au#cfau#really leaning into the idea of rath just being a horror. the horrors! i am delighted in the horrors!#im having fun with it#i swear to god turning 19 turned a switch on in my brain because i am much more comfortable with gore and heavy injury now than i was l#literally a year ago. the urge to write about some of danny's most horrific injuries in his fights is STRONG#like the hORRORS folks. *th horrors*. i dont think i'll ever write a dissection fic because that icks me out but the idea that danny's had#to stitch up his own throat because it got slit in a fight nd he cant shift back to human until he's done because his ghost will survive bu#his body wont#the idea that he's been impaled multiple times before and it hurts each fucking time but he still gets up and hurls the hurt right back in#equal measure. because that's how you wanna play? okay. lets play. he's 14 and his best friend is dead. he can play.#and the idea that all ghosts have 'corpse' forms where their ghosts look exactly like how they died. and danny is utterly unrecognizable#jazz being liminal or not just isnt important to me because she's barely gonna show up in the story anyways#same reason why i hardly use the headcanon that ellie becomes danny's daughter because what use is she to me like that? she'll hardly have#an impact on the story and i refuse to treat characters like props. if they can't help progress the story then they aren't included
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