#explict fic

[dannysghostling]

IM NOT DEAD!

Okay so- late update on my part due to A03 authors curse... But new WKBR Update!

Chapter 14- The Exorcist (Tim Drake-Wayne Version)

REMINDER THIS IS AN EXPLICIT M/M FIC READ AT YOUR OWN DISGRESSION

The golden ring of the portal hissed as it sliced through the sterile, humid air of the Batcave, spitting out a cloud of cigarette smoke and a sudden, sharp drop in temperature. John stepped through first, his trench coat damp and his expression sour enough to curd milk. Right behind him, hovering a few inches off the reinforced floor, was the "mystery partner"—Danny, currently in his full Phantom regalia. The King’s Crown pulsed with a low, violet thrum, and his star-dusted cloak billowed despite the lack of a breeze. John could feel the tension in the cave ratchet up to a breaking point. Bruce was already half-way to his utility belt, his eyes narrowed at the glowing, celestial teenager. "John," Bruce growled, his voice a low warning. "Explain. Now." "Not now, Bruce. I’ve got a massive headache and......

To find out what Constantine said, go to

Current word count: 52,900 What could go wrong? Cursed Fenton Luck. For Danny Fenton, apparently, everything within the span of two months,

or

https://archiveofourown.org/works/76228706/chapters/215066766

[dannysghostling]

Chapter 18 is out for WKBR on both A03 and Wattpad!

Guys i did it, i wrote a angst/fluff chapter without going overboard on either of the tropes!

I added a bunch of little hidden gems in this chapter, so I hope you read it!

To find out more:

Current word count: 66,821 ----------------------------------𓉸༘── ⋆⋅𖤐⋅⋆ ──𓉸༘------------------------------------ What could go wrong? Cursed

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

An excerpt of chapter 18:

Tim said, as if nothing had happened. "Oxygen. I keep forgetting the lungs need that to function properly. It’s... easy to forget."

"Inefficient?" Damian’s voice was sharp with genuine alarm. "Timothy, you stayed stationary for nearly forty-five seconds. Even a master of the League’s breathing techniques requires more circulation than that."

"My heart only beats once every thirty seconds," Tim explained, his tone as casual as if he were discussing the weather. "Maybe eighteen times a minute if I'm really pushing myself or if the city is particularly agitated. It turns out when you're anchored to a genius loci, the human metabolic rate becomes... secondary."

[dannysghostling]

Late update but Chapter 13 of WKBR is now up!

REMEMBER THIS IS A BL CENTRIC FIC THAT IS EXPLICIT

READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

This is now at 49,057 words and 13 chapters.

Excerpt:

"Ｈｏｌｄ ｙｏｕｒ ｂｒｅａｔｈ，"  Danny warned, his voice echoing with a low, spectral reverb. "Ｐｈｙｓｉｃｓ ａｒｅ ａｂｏｕｔ ｔｏ ｇｅｔ ｒｅａｌ ｗｅｉｒｄ．" With a sharp tug, the safehouse blurred into a smear of grey and green. The smell of gun oil and old coffee was replaced by the scent of ozone, ancient cedar, and the deep, silent cold of the void. As they materialized in the heart of the Obsidian Castle, the Realms reacted to our presence like a living thing recognizing its master. The throne room breathed with a rhythmic, low-frequency hum that vibrated through the soles of their boots. The architecture was an impossible blend of gothic architecture and celestial nebulae, where the pillars were carved from solidified shadow and the floor mirrored a star-map that shifted with every step Danny took. Danny felt the familiar, cold pressure of the King’s Crown—the jagged, dark crystalline points pulsating with a violet light that echoed the rhythm of his own core. From his shoulders, the King’s Cloak spilled out like a river of ink; it didn't just look like the night sky, it was the night sky, with tiny, dying stars trickling from the hem and dissolving into the floor like embers. Beside him, Damian stood with a rigid, regal grace that even the Realms couldn't rattle. The Prince’s Cloak—a deep, heavy velvet the color of the void—settled over his shoulders as if it had been tailored for him by fate itself. The silver circlet of the Prince sat nestled in his dark hair, the metal gleaming with a cold, pale light that highlighted the sharp, aristocratic lines of his face. He looked every bit the dark sovereign, a perfect mirror to Danny's more radiant, starlit presence. And in Danny's eyes, he couldn't get enough of that sight. Jason, however, looked like he was vibrating out of his skin. He was hovering about four inches off the ground, his boots twitching as he struggled to find an anchor in a world where gravity was merely a suggestion. "Danny," John Constantine grumbled, pushing off the black glass pillar he’d been leaning against. He looked out of place in his rumpled trench coat amidst the cosmic grandeur, yet the way the shadows curled affectionately around his ankles suggested he was more at home here than he’d ever admit.  "You really don't do things by halves, do you? Bringing a Bat and a Revenant into the heart of the Realms is one thing, but crowning one before he has even had a drink? That’s a bit theatrical, even for a Constantine."

https://archiveofourown.org/works/76228706/chapters/199497346

Current word count: 49,057 What could go wrong? Cursed Fenton Luck. For Danny Fenton, apparently, everything within the span of two months,

[dannysghostling]

WKBR UPDATE?! LATE VALENTINES UPDATE?!

yeah i was a bit late to posting bc i was out... oopsies :D

as always remember this is an explicit fic and for you to read at your own disgression.

Just as the world began to white out at the edges, just as the tension reached a point of no return where Danny was a split-second away from shattering, Damian pulled away.

The loss of contact was so sudden it felt like a physical blow. Danny let out a loud, frustrated cry of protest, his body jerking forward into the empty air where Damian’s mouth had been. He was left suspended, his heart hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird, his skin humming with a desperate, unfulfilled electricity.

Damian looked up at him, his lips wet and a dark, triumphant smirk playing on his face. He didn't move from his knees, remaining in that mock-submissive posture while holding Danny’s entire world in his hands.

"Not yet, Stella mea," Damian whispered, his voice dripping with a dark, cruel amusement. "You haven't been properly measured for your endurance. I told you I have no intention of finishing this quickly. You will stay on this edge until I decide you’ve earned the right to fall."

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Current word count: 31,357 What could go wrong? Cursed Fenton Luck. For Danny Fenton, apparently, everything within the span of two months,

[dannysghostling]

Thank you for all the support!

I just wanted to say thank you for all the support on Wattpad, A03, and Tumblr! Because of yall my fic is doing way better than I ever thought it could with 687 Reads & 48 Stars on Wattpad! On top of that on A03 it has gotten 77 Comments, 188 Kudos, 66 Bookmarks, and 4,194 Hits! I am so glad that my little fic is enjoyable enough to that many people!

If you are wondering, "Ghostling, what are you talking about?" I have provided a little summary of all the info you need to find out

Fic info

Words at the moment: 24,246

Fandoms: Batman & Danny Phantom

Ship(s): Danny/Damian, John Constantine/???

Age rating: Explicit

Platforms: Wattpad, A03

Summary:

What could go wrong? Cursed Fenton Luck.

For Danny Fenton, apparently, everything within the span of two months, his world falls apart.

But thankfully, he has his mentor, the Sad Trenchcoat Man, and a really pretty lady to help him get through all of it, and maybe a few Bats and Birds… And maybe one Baby Bat. Maybe... Wink Wink

What could go wrong? Cursed Fenton Luck. For Danny Fenton, apparently, everything within the span of two months, his world falls apart. But

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

[dannysghostling]

WKBR Breaking News: "Will Kneel But Rarely" — Local Artist Discovers Prince’s 'Static' Problem!

Well guys, chapter 9 is finally up on both A03 and Wattpad!

REMEMBER THIS IS AN EXPLICIT FIC FEATURING DAMIAN/DANNY

Read at your own discretion:

Damian remained on one knee behind him, the silver tape measure held between his fingers like a weapon. He could feel the heat radiating off Danny in waves—a heavy, humid warmth that smelled of sweat, adrenaline, and the sharp, metallic tang of rising desperation. Beneath the silence of the room, Damian could hear it again: that low, phantom hum. It was a vibration that seemed to originate from the very core of Danny's being, rhythmic and steady, yet intensifying whenever Damian moved an inch closer. It was a frequency entirely reactive to Damian’s presence, a secret confession that Danny's body was making even as his lips remained silent.

"You are losing your focus, Danny," Damian murmured, his eyes tracking a single bead of sweat as it rolled down the dip of Danny’s spine. "I can see the tremor in your quadriceps. It makes the measurement... unreliable."

https://archiveofourown.org/works/76228706/chapters/199497346

What could go wrong? Cursed Fenton Luck. For Danny Fenton, apparently, everything within the span of two months, his world falls apart. But

[kateawolf13]

for @charming-or-tedious for the @stetersecretsanta2021 exchange!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/35843575

Stiles meets Peter's friend... and keeps bumping into him at the worst times. Then Peter meets Peter's friend and apparently, Stiles had it wrong.

Stiles was already done with this party when his friends abandoned him to head off to their own jobs like the traitors they were.

“So you must be the boyfriend I’ve heard so much about,” a voice from behind him spoke.

Stiles smiled; he was going to give Peter so much shit for using the word boyfriend. Like, all the shit. “Yup, that’s me.”

The man looked him up and down, assessing. It did not turn Stiles on, because he wasn’t going to end up with a crush on one of Peter’s friends. And this was definitely one of his friends, not his coworker, if the casual clothing and lack of currying favor were anything to go by.

Stiles tried not to fidget too much under the scrutiny.

“If you fuck up, they won’t find your body,” he calmly stated.

That also did not turn Stiles on, nope. Not at all. Still totally boner-free from the threat to his life. “Noted.”

[kateawolf13]

Echoes of Mischief

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

So, day 1 of @haleoweentw has happened.

Peter started walking away, listening for the boy behind him. He was following close, but not close enough for Peter to catch him before he could react. “Do you make a habit of following around dangerous creatures?” There was a laugh in response. “Not sure I’d call you dangerous.” Peter snarled and turned around, allowing his beta shift to flow over him. It wouldn’t do to lose his ability to talk, not that he would’ve been able to use his claws with the dust he saw in front of him. Trapped again… and if he wasn’t such a threat, Peter would be impressed. The boy started tossing a jar in his hand. “And that proves... What?” “What were you even doing here?” He caught the jar and held it up. “Graveyard dirt. Kinda need it for an upcoming ritual.” Peter took a few steps, holding his claws out as a threat. “What ritual?” He threw his head back and laughed. “Oh, you’ll just need to wait and see. Don’t worry, puppy, you’ll know soon.” He winked and walked off, waving his hand to release the ash circle without so much as a labored breath.