#BloodBlossom

[long-live-astronerd-ghost-king]

Sam: Get out of my way, losers. I'm going after the woman of my dreams!

Tucker: Go best friend!

Danny: Wait, is she carrying a pot of blood blossoms as a gift to Poison Ivy?

Tucker: Oh, you might be in danger. *continues to cheer for Sam*

[sorensouls]

I like to think at some point danny and friends tryed out ghost/horror movie things on him like you know salt, charms, sus wholy water, and more just to see if anything would work and what to avoid and strangly a good chunk of things work even mildly

He found out Salt SALT normal table salt was nearly just as dangerous as bloodblossoms FUCK

Wholy water or whatever it was they bought online was. burns a lot in his ghost form but nothing life threatening and stings in his human form

Charms or whatever they were just gave him a MASSIVE headache if he doesn't comply to them but he CAN egnore em if he endures it

He also found out from his parents that back in the witch hunter days the Fentons used ROCK SALT IN GUNS for ghosts and apparently a lot of old fashioned hunters still use em

Damn it

[jhdanes]

@ectoberweekofficial day 27: the blood blossom are the hunter’s favorite tool, not only are they deadly, they look beautiful on you. #bloodblossoms #hunter #dannyphantom #valeriegray

[easton-weston]

A kid I babysit gave me a wreath made of bloodblossoms. It was a nice present, so I gave him $20.

[gyancastle]

An updated version of Jasmine's armor, being Fright Knight.

She also has a tattoo on her arm, which has ink with traces of blood blossom, she did it to be able to curse ghosts even without the powers that the Soul Shredder gives her, the only thing she has to do is pass her opposite hand over the tattoo and can activate it.

Also, I was thinking about the probability that she is losing her human side, thanks to the constant need that she has to feed on the fear of other creatures, in order to maintain her powers. But it is just an idea.

. . . . . . . . . .

forgive me in case my English is not well expressed

. . . . . . . . . .

Una versión actualizada de la armadura de Jasmine, siendo Fright Knight.

También tiene un tatuaje en su brazo, el cual tiene tinta con restos de flores de sangre, ella se lo hizo para poder maldecir fantasmas aun sin los poderes que le da la Soul Shredder (desgarradora de almas), lo único que tiene que hacer es pasar su mano opuesta sobre el tatuaje y lo puede activar.

También, estuve pensando en la probabilidad de que ella este perdiendo su lado humano, gracias a la constante necesidad que tiene de alimentarse del miedo de otras criaturas, para poder mantener sus poderes. Pero es solo una idea.

[cookietastic]

Blood blossoms weren’t used to their full potential

[marikyubi]

I made this for a fanfic, in this fanfic there is a polygamy relationship. In this fanfic BlackBerry/RaspBerry is the uke whit all the Paps, all Paps are seme. I hope you like it.

[spookberry]

There's a Man, Loose In The Ghost Zone!!!!

Some doodles of @the-stove-is-on-fire version of Flynn

[shadowstar1919]

BloodBlossoms Someone decided to put up a wreith of bloodblossoms for photo day and Danny lands smack dab in the middle during a ghost fight.

[riverbay11]

DANNYMAY2022 BLOOD BLOSSOMS

Was it worth it Danny, was it good bread?!!!?!

[omegasmileyface]

some distant tommy ghoulatta backstory :)

[HLVRAI Danny Phantom AU]

warnings: death mention

words: 2299

AO3 link

===

Feb 1965, Wagon Mound, NM

G-Man looked at the dry, historic town around him as he pulled his truck into the parking lot of a church. He was staying in a cheap hotel a few towns away, where he had first seen all that supernatural stuff as a kid. He had come back to ask around for local stories and try to get some semblance of research done himself, and he was lucky enough to hear about a guy in this town who was supposedly obsessed with ghosts. After getting his address and name — Benjamin Fischer — from a local at a diner who was intrigued by G-Man's search, he set off immediately.

Fischer's house was close to the church, so G-Man got out there and walked the rest of the way. It was uncomfortably hot with his jacket on so close to the desert, but he knew how quickly that could change.

The house was small and modern, with an unkempt yard and a cross visible in the blinded window. After G-Man knocked on the door, he investigated the porch. Despite the lack of attention to appearance everywhere else, lush bushes were kept in pots by the door. They bloomed with deep, pinkish-red rose-like flowers despite the time of year.

A man, presumably Benjamin Fischer himself, opened the door.

"Hello. I've heard you've been doing some research on spirits and the supernatural?" G-Man said, quelling the slight intimidation he felt with the confidence of a man on a mission.

Fischer raised his eyebrow. "Who are you, exactly?"

Aw, crap. He was so excited he forgot to introduce himself. "Sorry. You can call me G-Man. I'm looking to do some research myself, and I need a better jumping off point."

Fischer looked amused, but didn't stop frowning. "Do you have a real name?"

"I've been going solely by G-Man these last few years."

The older man smiled wryly. "Well, boy, I try to keep my research to myself. I can give you some advice, but that's about all."

G-Man's brow furrowed, and he forced his face back into a more neutral expression. "Advice would be wonderful," (though he doubted it was anything he hadn't heard before), "but why don't you share your research? The more people know about what's out there, the more we can be equipped for it."

Fischer looked to the side and scowled. "There are people here who think I'm crazy, or better yet, some kind of Satan worshipper. I'm sure they'd like to see what I've found and make all sorts of trouble for everyone in town trying to 'disprove' it. Hell, there are people who'd take what I've done, use it against me, and then take it for their own."

"Ah... could I help you with your research then? I have no intention of letting anything found by either of us into the wrong hands."

"Sorry, kid, not looking for an assistant at the moment. You'll have to look somewhere else. And that advice, before you go — ghosts are more than just the impressions of people who used to live. Trust your instincts, they're closer to spirits than your brain."

G-Man frowned and thanked the man before reluctantly walking back toward the church. He could probably spend the night searching for anything supernatural in this town, but he'd have to go back by morning. Maybe he'd come by some other time and pester Fischer again.

---

June 1967, Wagon Mound, NM

In two more years of searching on his own, G-Man had learned some more about the supernatural, but not as much as he'd wanted. He'd gathered from books that all spirits had a central energy made out of pure passion that held them together, that they had physical forms but they didn't align quite right with the living world, that they were connected to some spirit world — all understandably but frustratingly spiritual and speculative. The only thing that seemed to be consistent was that a European flower called blood blossom, the flower that was blooming outside Benjamin Fischer's house, distressed spirits enough to ward them off.

He was in New Mexico again to visit his old spots, trying to see if he could find a ghost fresh enough to talk to him somewhat coherently. A waitress at a diner in Wagon Mound had recognized him and told him that Fischer had died a few months ago and it may not be best to try to visit his house.

Of course, that's just what G-Man did.

Clearly, Fischer had lived alone, and the house looked untouched. The yard was colder than the rest of the town, though it was night, and from the way the hairs on the back of his neck spiked, G-Man was sure it was due to a paranormal presence. Either an effect of Fischer's studies, or he was haunting the place. If G-Man's research was correct, ghosts newer than a few years didn't have enough of a presence to really do anything, or even be conscious, but they tended to hang around where they had lived and affect the atmosphere there.

Following his instincts just the way the man had told him to before, G-Man walked around to the back of the house. There was a back door, the sort that might connect to a kitchen, but a small broken window revealed that the room inside was nothing of the sort. Instead it had metal tables like a lab, surfaces covered in books, and metal boxes lined up against the walls. Some boxes and jars in the room seemed to glow when he looked away from them, including a Florence flask which was knocked over on an otherwise clear table, spilling some translucent liquid which had yet to evaporate.

The closer G-Man got, the more the chill picked at his skin. He could tell he wasn't wanted here, but the dried blood blossoms in his pockets should keep anything too bad from happening. It was worth it for the knowledge he could — would — gain.

He climbed through the window. It was too small to be a comfortable fit, but the door was locked and he didn't want to break anything that wasn't already broken. On the way through, his hand picked up a small static shock. Strange, since the window frame was plastic, but stranger things still have happened during G-Man's studies.

A workbench directly across from the door caught his attention. In front of stacks of books was a torn piece of paper, stained by whatever substance was in the spilled flask. Wild but legible handwriting read:

The items in this lab are not to be moved without the utmost dedication to their protection. I am dead, but my findings are still not to be let out of my sight. Intruders will be faced with my ghost. The security of my work is likely the death of me, be prepared for it to be the death of you.

It was signed by Fischer, but the corner of the paper was smudged unreadable by the liquid, leaving just "Ben".

It was certainly very passionate. Confident, even, from the assumption that his ghost would be around in the time it would be needed. But Fischer knew more than G-Man, if nothing else, he could be sure his ghost would stay with any stolen items until it could punish the thief. G-Man was weary to open any books or boxes knowing this, but stepped back to at least look around the room. Perhaps something could be gained that way.

In his inspection, G-Man noticed one of the faded glows becoming brighter. Suddenly, it coalesced into a figure. Directly in front of him, Fischer's ghost hovered, dark blue eyes piercing despite the overall unsure translucency of his form. He was angry, as fiercely protective of his work as the note had implied. He was also... startlingly solid. This was the closest G-Man had ever been to a ghost, but he was sure that they were not usually so defined at the edges. This ghost had slightly wrinkled skin, and his chest was moving as if he were breathing.

In fact, G-Man was certain that in order for a ghost to collect enough ambient energy to cast a form, stay visible, and maintain a consciousness, their essence had to remain for several years. Even in a place of highly concentrated paranormal energy like this little lab, it would take a year or more for just the emotional consciousness to draw together into a spirit. For what was clearly Fischer to be here so soon, and so unusually solid as well... something was clearly wrong. G-Man's investigative curiosity was almost enough to overpower his instinctual fear.

As the spirit's eyes focused onto him, the air in the room grew drier. It started to pull at the moisture in his skin and made his fingertips feel hot. Every luminescent stain and vial grew brighter until they appeared to occasionally arc between one another. Tiny discharges of hot energy.

There was no way G-Man was getting out of this without at the very least explaining himself. He steeled his nerves to the best of his ability and looked directly into the ghost's eyes, willing himself to ignore the dark lifelessness of the pupils. "Do you... remember me?"

Fischer's head tilted to the side, less like he was trying to remember so much as like he was weighing whether to admit something. "...I do not know you." He looked unsure, questioning, even though behind his firm protectiveness was a layer of desperate honesty. Especially so soon after his own death, he had to be terribly confused, with a sense of purpose but no information as to why it was so.

...Of course, unless G-Man has been misunderstanding something major, and he remembered his life just fine.

Still, assumptions lead to danger when it comes to the supernatural, so he decided to test the waters.

G-Man pointed to the smudged note. "So, Ben..." He avoided calling the ghost by his full living name. For all he knew, there was some ghostly cultural taboo against using someone's old name. The most literal form of a deadname, he supposed. The note said "Ben" at the end, so perhaps if the ghost had no memory of his life he'd understand why G-Man would think that's his name.

Fischer growled. Alright, then, bad move. "That's not it." He was looking pointedly at the note, eying the staining almost as if scared. Wait, was he questioning the cut-off? He must not have been used to going as just "Ben" in life.

"...Not your whole name?"

Fischer shook his head harshly. He looked as though if he weren't fully invested in keeping G-Man away from his findings, he'd be curled up on the floor in frustration.

"Maybe..." started the ghost, "maybe it was... Ben... 'ri'? Benry?"

G-Man had to hold back a startled laugh. Maybe he was thinking of "Benji" or something similar, because as far as he was aware, "Benry" was nothing close to a name. That being said, he wasn't going to bring up the possible confusion. He was on thin ice as is.

"Well. Benry, sir, my name is G-Man. I'm a paranormal researcher, just like... just like the man this lab belonged to, and I've spoken with him before to share findings. I was hoping to make some observations of this room for my own research and leave. I promise not to harm you or anything in here. May I please take a look around?"

The spirit (Benry?) stared back at G-Man with a renewed fury. "NO! The research in this room stays here. If it gets out, they'll take it for their own uses, all they want is-"

"I promise to keep it away from the government!"

It was a fight-or-flight response, really, G-Man just blurted the first thing he thought Benry might want to hear. Honestly, he had no reason to assume what he didn't want was government involvement, that's a bit of a stereotype when it comes to rural areas, right? Just because G-Man was afraid of the government after getting the cops called on him for a ritual last year didn't mean every paranormal researcher was. And interrupting the ghost wasn't any way to earn his trust, God why wasn't his fear enough to shut him up? I mean, even if he didn't react violently — it would be respectable, considering G-Man's bold act — making a promise to a ghost? Aren't they like the fae? What if he's bound to it? He wasn't planning on sharing anything with the government, not by a long shot, but what if something came up?

Benry's eyes widened and bored directly into G-Man, expression unreadable. Then he softened. Almost literally, his harsh glow lessened and a degree of moisture returned to the room. "You promise."

It wasn't a question, but it didn't feel like a command either. It didn't need to be. An expression of relief. "We protect the research together. You can build on it. Without the findings, there's nothing to protect. We must keep it from the wrong hands."

G-Man was shocked. The shock didn't lessen when Benry, and the note, faded from view. Was he... trusted to keep this research?

After standing still for a minute and feeling the room come back together, he let out a weak, belated "thank you." He approached a closed book on one table. If nothing else, he had to come away from this with some new knowledge.

When he touched it, the pages hummed with the same dry spark as Benry's glare. ...Haunting equipment was a good way to stay close, G-Man supposed. It seemed he had not only Fischer's findings to help his career, but his own defensive spirit, odd as it may be.

[oddteen19]

I wish the show had done more with the blood blossoms. Do you know how easy Danny’s job would’ve been if he just used them to defeat his ghost opponents?

Like imagine Danny having a gun that would just shoot out blood blossom bullets or juice?

Would Danny even be okay using the gun or would even the slightest exposure to it cause him pain too? He could just let Sam or Tucker use it.

Can he feel the pain in his human form?

Also, since it’s a plant, would it have worked on undergrowth?

There’s just a lot of things they could’ve done with blood blossoms. I hate that the show introduced new concepts at the end only to be seen like once.

I miss the show so much

[phantomphangphucker]

PhannieMay - Day 25 Blood Blossoms

(Lilies (funeral flower), Cypress Flowers (death, mourning), Ghost Orchid, Ghost Pipe, Blood Blossoms, Reindeer Lichen Fungus (resilience), forget-me-not flower)

[sydawnstrike]

Well, Fuck...

"Right this way, miss.  M'Lady will be with you shortly."

Syreletha gave a curt nod as she was shown into the guest parlor by what must have been a seasoned butler, given the way his eyes remained perfectly and professionally upon her face.  Considering just how little of her was covered by the armor she'd chosen this morning, she briefly toyed with the idea of being offended.  Until she remembered just whose staff she was dealing with.  Inappropriate glances were probably punished with castrations.

She snorted to herself as she made her way to the desk where she knew she was going to be forced to have this conversation, the heavy wooden chair creaking as she took a seat.  She shifted, thoughts racing a mile a minute as she tried to convince herself that she had no reason to be nervous.  She took a job.  She failed.  She'd pay back the money.  Done and done.

"All this fuckin' money and they can't be bothered with comfortable chairs," she grumbled, the edge of the seat digging painfully into her thighs, the scrolling spindles that lined the back, while beautiful to look at, doing very little for her spine.

"I'm sorry you disapprove, my dear," a cool, stern voice intoned from the direction of the door.

Sy shot to her feet without thinking.  Normally she wouldn't give a fuck about maintaining civility with this old hag, but if she was going to wiggle out of their little contract, she'd need to be on her best behavior.

"I wasn't trying to--"

Lady Velana Highgaze waved an imperious hand at the attempted apology, the lace at her wrists flopping limply.  As always, she was dressed to the nines; with her high collared satin gown, petticoats, heels, veritable pounds of jewelry, and finely coiffed mane, she seemed better dressed for a ball than a business meeting.

"I didn't choose the chair myself, darling.  You've only insulted me marginally," she replied airily as she made her way to the high backed chair behind the desk, gesturing for Sy to return to her own.

Too much makeup, Sy decided when they were face to face.  Powder had gathered in the fine creases near the woman's eyes, several stray black specks of liner peppering the woman's right eyelid...

Focus up, Sy.  Gods.

"I can only assume that your sudden, unannounced visit means that you have the information I've requested?"

Sy bit back the immediate, flippant reply that danced on the tip of her tongue, instead folding her hands against the smooth bronzed skin of her thighs.  "Unfortunately, no."

"Unfortunate indeed," Lady Highgaze replied, her tone sliding from merely cool to arctic.

"I apologize.  I know that I said I would be able to get it.  But Lord Bloodblossom is a highly guarded man.  It took far more effort to get close to him than I had anticipated.  And quite frankly, he's lost interest."

"Is that so?" Velana replied quietly, pushing to her feet suddenly and moving to stand near one of the spotless, crystalline windows.  "I have heard rumors that he is out and about, carousing and doing what he will."  The faded glow of her felbright gaze peered over one shoulder, fixed on Sy's face.

She carefully maintained a neutral expression, though something in her stomach gave an unpleasant twist at the words.

"So you see?  I'm afraid the task is simply beyond my capability, loathe as I am to admit it.  I would be happy to repay the funds you provided me in advance."

A heavy silence followed, laden with words neither woman was willing to give voice.  Finally, Lady Highgaze sighed, returning to her seat.

"Do you have children, Miss Dawnstrike?"

"You know that I don't," Sy retorted a touch impudently.  The noble bitch could write the book on Sy, she'd dug up so much information.  Most of it dirt.

"Of course.  All that cavorting..."

Sy barely resisted the overwhelming urge to roll her eyes.

"I realize you cannot possibly understand, then, my desire to find my sweet Caedra a match.  Without it, she will become a spinster.  A mockery of venerated customs that we strive to uphold, amidst the chaos of this world."

"Archaic customs," Sy intoned, mentally kicking herself as she did so.

The disapproving glare she received could have frozen every fountain in Silvermoon solid.  

"I would not expect you to understand, Miss Dawnstrike.  You are not of the nobility.  You will never be."

"As you are so fond of reminding me..."

"Is it Caedra's fault that illness as a child took her ability to bear children?  Should that be reason enough to wed her to no one but the most wretched class of merchant?"

Syreletha stared evenly back at the irate woman.  "You could simply let her meet someone she enjoys the company of, and marry for love?"

"It's like you don't hear any of the words that come out of my mouth.  I’m speaking Thalassian, am I not?  There are traditions to be maintained--" 

Sy sighed and held up a hand, warding off the words.  "I don't need another lesson on noble customs.  Let's just settle our business, hm?"

It had been a stupid, ill-fated venture from the beginning.  Dig up a bit of dirt on what had, at the time, been a stranger, a young noble lord who resisted marriage offers.  Provide it to Lady Highgaze.  Take the pile of gold she'd be rewarded and sprinkle it on the bed to roll around in.  As a plus, the old noble bitch wouldn't go to the magistrate with the information she had on Sy's past exploits.  

It had seemed too easy.

Probably because it had been.

Because that idiot, Lord Rahlaven Bloodblossom, was...  Charming.  And handsome.  And cared about her.  He could make her forget her own name when he touched her.  And he'd big fat gone and fallen in love with her, despite her warnings not to.  And even worse?!  He'd made her fall in love with him!  The absolute disregard for her current lifestyle... Disgusting.

The sound of hands smoothing over full skirts brought her back to herself.

"Yes.  Our business.  Let's see..."

Lady Highgaze opened the largest desk drawer and began to rifle through the sheafs of parchment within.  "Ah yes, here we are."  She retrieved several pages and laid them on the polished wood.  "The signed herein... et cetera, et cetera...  Will find information of use for blackmailing Lord Bloodblossom into accepting a marriage proposal... et cetera et cetera...  Ah!  Should Party B find the task set forth impossible to complete, it will return all funds paid, with thirty-seven percent interest, per month to Party A, and turn themselves in to the city guard for past misdeeds."

Syreletha felt her blood freeze solid in her veins, a high pitched sound ringing in her ears.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"I can read it again if you need, dear, but I think it was quite clear."

Sy tore the parchment out of the other woman's grasp, wide eyes scanning its contents.  

Why the fuck hadn't she read this thing more closely before she'd signed it?!

"So, if you will return my gold, plus the interest laid out, that would be close to twenty thousand, I believe.  And I can have Ineris fetch the guards--"

"Wait," Sy ground out from between clenched teeth.  She reminded herself, repeatedly, that it would cause a lot more trouble for her if she just killed the bitch, much as it would be satisfying in the moment.

She took a deep breath, willing herself to a state of semi-calm.  "What am I supposed to do?  He doesn't want me anymore."

"At first glance, it would seem that way, wouldn't it?  Yet one of my little birds delivered quite the interesting report after the Hallow's End party that Lord Bloodblossom threw.  Perhaps you remember?"

The raucous din of party-goers laughing and drinking... The auspicious pairing of their costumes, a succubus and a demon hunter...  A familiar hand creeping up her thigh, making her forget that they were surrounded by hundreds of other people...

"I remember," Sy replied quietly.

"It seems that our Lord caught sight of you and couldn't keep his hands to himself."  Lady Highgaze sounded appropriately appalled by the thought.  "He even committed the absolutely unforgivable faux pas of leaving his own gala early, not to be seen or heard from again for the entire evening.  Well, aside from some interesting, albeit scandalous, sounds coming from one of the guest bed--"

"I said I remember," Sy interrupted.

"Would you like to know what I think is happening here?" Lady Highgaze asked, just a touch too sweetly.

"No, but I imagine you're going to tell me anyway."

"Indeed, I am.  You see.  I believe that you have forgotten that the boy is nothing more than a job.  I believe that, despite your assurances to me that you never develop feelings for your marks, that you have done that very thing."

Sy cringed internally.

"Of course, the boy must feel the same; you said yourself that no man could resist your charms.  So, in an ill-guided attempt to save him from my clutches, you have withdrawn from his presence, leading him to believe that you no longer desire him; hence all of the extracuricular activity he's enjoying.  How am I doing?" 

Was smug one of the fucking Shas?  Because it had pretty much infested Lady Highgaze at this point.

Sy remained pointedly silent.

"Now.  Here's what's going to happen.  You are going to forget whatever little notions have entered your pretty, but foolish, head about you and Lord Bloodblossom and the happily ever after you have certainly envisioned.  You are going to get up.  You are going to find out when the next ball will be held that he will be attending.  You will reuinte with him--"

"I'm telling you, he doesn't--"

"You will reunite with him," Velana interjected firmly.  "You will get me the information I need.  And this matter will be settled.  Do you understand?"

Well, this had gone sideways pretty fucking quickly.  

"Do. You. Understand?"

"Yes," Sy replied stiffly.

"Good.  Ineris will show you out."

Before she could rise, a firm hand had wrapped about her bicep and the butler, whose exercise regime must have been amazing, was bodily removing her from the Highgaze estate.

"Wait--"  She dug her heels in just as they would have left the parlor. Turning to glance back at Lady Highgaze.

"Yes, my dear?"

"What if I fail?"

The smile that graced Velana's face was a terrible combination of pleasant and cruel.

"You know, I've wondered how well you would fare in the Silvermoon dungeons, with that pretty face.  Either very well, or very awfully.  Let's hope we don't have to find out, hm?"

@knightofthehawks

[amity-park-resident]

Ate a bloodblossom, 10/10 dont recommend doing if you consumed ectoplasm at somepoint.

[lance-thunder-reporting-live]

Because of Tucker eating Blood Blosoms, I tried cooking with it myself (assuming they can be cooked the same way as roses). Made jam out of it (it's very delicious). Though my food experiment had an unexpected result: aparently some people are very alergic to bloodblossoms (a kid from my school nearely fainted when I pulled out my sandwitch). Are they a health hazzard?

Not much is known about the effects of blood blossoms on humans. It is likely that some people have an allergy to them, but it is unknown how common the allergy is due to how rare the plant is.

It would be wise to keep blood blossoms away from people with known blood blossom allergies.