#Ghost Shenanigans
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gremlinmodetweeker · 1 month ago
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(the rare) Ghost's Empire of Icks
I'm gonna be honest, I think a lot about Ghost, but I don't put much to paper. I think that it's because maybe I write so much König that I don't have much time for the big Brit. I do like him, but ya know, time. And energy too. However, today I woke up and I chose British. I must be true to my heritage.
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So! Ghost is rather different from the others because I suspect that every spark of joy in this man's heart is naught but a wee ember. He's genuinely such a massive killjoy it's insane.
There is no doubt in my mind that Ghost is the hardest person in the 141 to get along with. Not because he's mean, he's just... Flat.
See, the problem with Ghost is that he makes jokes all the time, it's just nobody but the 141 team picks up on them.
Ghost has the driest black British humour known to mankind. It's insanely hard to tell when he's joking about having beaten a man to death for a cup of coffee or if he actually did it. The problem is that there's a very good chance he isn't joking, but who's gonna tell the you that he's not? It's funny to watch you try and figure it out yourself.
Struggle, bitch.
That's essentially the T141 motto when it comes to figuring out Ghost's character. Gotta learn to earn, baby.
But the thing is, a pattern starts to form.
Whenever something goes wrong, Ghost will make the flattest joke you've ever heard.
*Car breaks down* Ghost: "Whelp, looks like we're walkin' boys. Cheer up, it's only a ten mile hike. We'll be there soon enough."
That's how subtle his humour is. You might genuinely mistake it for optimism if you didn't know him better. It's hard to follow sometimes, his jokes can be a wee bit cerebral, but he's a funny guy in all honesty. Not bad company after all.
Ghost might be the hardest person to really get in the 141, but if you crack the code he's absolutely hilarious. He genuinely is! It's just usually the most sarcastic one-liner you've ever heard.
If it's not hard to get Ghost's jokes, it's easy to understand how he feels about good ol' Great Britain.
He's a bloody patriot.
Patriotic to a fault.
That's not to say he can't take a joke, of course not. Hell, he's cracking them half the time. He is totally fine with laughing off how shitty his country is
But if you genuinely mean it? If you genuinely think Britain suck? Oh he has words. Maybe not out loud, but he's judging you hardcore.
You don't like the rain? Tough. Rain's what makes the Englishman a hardened man.
You don't like all their slang? Get used to it. If he can learn American slang to get your movies and use South African to go undercover, you can learn his. He's pretty petty about this too.
If you think Britain has a lot to answer for? He does agree, he's not going to advocate for colonialism and genocide, but also 'the past is the past so there's not much use dredging it back up'. He's a bit of a prick about this actually. I could have a lot to say to him, but he's too patriotic to really accept any faults.
He's also just really obnoxious about anything British. If it was invented by a Brit? He'll be sure to bring it up (notably will not bring up the fact that the inventor was actually Welsh/Scottish/Northern Irish)
Tying in with his patriotism, Ghost is a bit... Stubborn. He's a bit of a stick in the mud, if you will. Bullheaded to a fault. He'll refuse to admit to something going wrong in his life in any way shape of form. Unfortunately, this mostly shows up when his hearing bothers him.
"Once went to a concert in Stonehenge. Crackin' good concert, but I got a ringin' in my ears for weeks afterwards. Still got it, if I'm gonna be honest."
"Wasn't that when you enlisted in the military? You know, started doing firearms training?"
"Well yeah. Why?"
It will take ages to get Simon's attention. Not because he's not interested, but because he just can't hear too well. When it's quiet he can filter noise easily enough, but if you're trying to get his attention in a club it's next to impossible.
When he's in loud situations, he's learned to rely a fair bit on lip reading. He'll never admit it, of course. He can hear just fine, you know.
He is too stubborn to take a hearing test. You'll just have to suffer with yelling at him when he's just in the next room or having to go hunt him down in the house whenever you need to get his attention.
Speaking of, finding Ghost is a whole issue in and of itself. He's a big man, about 6'5 (maybe a bit under but nobody would dare question him), and pretty broad. However, when he's moving about, he's entirely silent.
The problem with this is that Ghost likes to walk around quite a bit. If you leave to go do some shopping and ask him to wait outside the changing rooms, he'll bugger off and do his own thing.
You can't call his name, but you can try his phone. You just have to hope he has it on him. Or that it's charged, he's horrible for keeping it uncharged.
He's a bit of a menace with his sneaking off. Usually it's fine, but sometime you need him right now and he's off in the ether doing whatever
You'll get a phone call from the bank that he needs to take immediately and you'll spend the next fifteen minutes scurrying around the house trying to find him. You can't call his name, you just have to hope you find him as the person on the other end of the line steadily grows more irate with each passing minute.
It's a genuine nightmare scenario that you have to go through on a monthly basis
Once you find him, he's under his car in the garage fixing something and he's completely oblivious as to why you're so upset.
"If you needed me so badly, why didn't you just yell my name?"
You're going to kill him in his sleep one day.
Anyways, those are just some of my thoughts. I think he's a big gross man but I love him. He's just so grumpy all the time that it's fun. Grumpy, sarcastic, bitter. The perfect man.
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Ghost Dump
Ghost Headcanons
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coffeesleep-ooc · 4 days ago
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DP thoughts about food
So i was recalling how in DP the food the Fentons made or had in their freezer was canonically always ecto-contaminated for some reason or another. And thought it would have been awful to grow up feeling unsafe with your own food. I’m guessing either Danny or Jazz could have developed some kind of eating disorder thanks to this, like, they have to be careful their own food won’t come back to life to try and eat them in turn or make them sick! Not even bc they have a condition like lactose intolerance or allergies but BC THEIR FOOD ITSELF IS THE PROBLEM
so im imagining that post-accident, Jazz is still as careful as she can be and tries to keep an eye on her little brother who has recently cared less and less, she has even seen him almost eat the contaminated food! She is very surprised he hasn’t ran to the bathroom to throw up one of these days.
One day, the day right before Jazz’s revelation of his brother’s identity, is when it happens.
Their mom and dad are out and they have unearthed (Danny’s words) the remains of a pizza they didn’t finish a couple days ago. Jazz goes to the kitchen to make a couple of iced teas (beginning of summer sucks, also Danny’s words) but when she comes back two things happen in quick succession: first, the pepperoni pizza that has apparently been fine until now reveals to be ecto contaminated and suddenly comes back to life when her brother is about to take a bite, only to moan, roar and try to attack Danny in that order. But then, her baby brother HISSES and SNARLS at the thing (and is the sound coming from his mouth or his chest?!?!?!?) with wild abandon and makes it cower into submission before he takes not just a bite but several and devours it with an anger he hasn’t displayed in…well, ever?
Jazz stands there for a while until Danny notices her, and flinches. Then he scratches the back of his neck trying to look as casual as he can
“Er…it seems the pizza is not okay…?”
“you think?” She says, and puts the tea in the table, acting like she hasn’t just seen her brother eat said pizza
she will get to the bottom of this later on, but for now she is just wildly confused, not to mention, EXTREMELY CONCERNED
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justhereforsomethingnice · 3 months ago
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I almost never see Amorpho being used as a ghost character in Danny Phantom fanfic but I think he has huge potential. If not for the plot then at least for the gossip friend role. Let’s say Danny can transform too, maybe he learned it from Amorpho, maybe it’s a new power, maybe it’s a curse, who the duck knows.
Just two cats staring deeply into each others eyes before looking at you as you pass the street before nodding to each other and giving a kitty laugh. Are they mocking you? Who knows, they’re cats, that’s their thing.
A Robin and a crow, chattering to each other in the most annoying caw twitter combination. Flying up and both dumping some birdshit on one Dash Baxters new car. What a weird coincidence.
An opossum with a singular smaller oppossum clinging to it. The big one is making weird human like gestures and making growls noises as if explaining to the little one. Later that day your neighbors entire pillow and blanket collection has been stolen and later found back two streets further along filled with gray and white hairs and is that cat puke?
Danny walking into the school and getting bullied by a random person and him just getting a shit eating grin, whispering something in their ear that makes them leave Danny alone for the rest of their school career. Was it blackmail? A weirdly effective threat? Where and how did he learn that.
Two raccoons stealing nasty burger meals from customers.
Just, the opportunities!!! If someone knows something like this, let me know please🥺
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stillebesat · 2 years ago
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*vibrating a normal amount*
GUYS. There is a Lazarus Pit somewhere in the BATCAVE.
So. Apparently at some point. Bane and Batman (probably not together? I'm sorry I'm just going off of a wiki) were both going around destroying Lazarus Pits.
ONLY.
Batman eventually found out that the Lazarus Pits are actually needed to keep the world stable. You can't destroy them all. That's bad. Very bad.
And so he decided to create his own and where would he put said pit? In the safest place he knows.
The Batcave.
Because he knows that's like the one place that Ra's will never get to so therefore The Demon Head will never use it.
But like can you imagine the DP X DC possibilities?!?!
Like what if the person who told Batman that destroying all the Pits was bad was the Ghost King?
What if Danny was the one who helped Batman to pick out a safe location in the Batcave as well as design the holding area for the Pit/Portal so that it would remain stable and be unlikely to hurt any humans?
What if the increased ectoplasm in the area makes the Batfam more liminal?
What if the increased ectoplasm in the air allows certain ghosts (Bruce's Parents, Dick's Parents, etc) to become more visible?
What if, depending on the timeline of just when the Gotham Lazarus Pit is created, if it was created sometime after Jason's death but before his revival....it's ectoplasmic presence helps to fully revive Jason. He forms a core in the coffin. His mind returns to him without the LoA having to get involved. He instinctively uses ghost abilities to escape from his grave without having to dig his way out. He returns to his family.
What if the Pit was created while Jason was with the League. And he's dealing with corrupted ectoplasm from that Pit. But when he finally finally ends up in the Cave (maybe he's severely injured and has to stay there for a while?) the pure ectoplasm in the Cave helps to filter out the corrupted stuff and helps him form a core then?
What if Jason feels like he can never go home because he's been replaced, he has too much blood on his hands....and yet the moment he steps foot in the cave or steps foot in the manor he feels like he's come HOME. And he has no idea why he feels so safe and protected there and why it's so difficult for him to want to leave when he's HOME until a while later when he finally discovers the presence of the Pits.
What if Batman created the Lazarus Pit on his own and he or some other family member accidentally becomes a Halfa in the process?
What if Ghost King Danny feels the presence of a new connection to Earth opening up and goes to investigate and discovers the Batfam?
What if Phantom (injured maybe, possibly in desperate need of a new haunt) comes through the portal/pit after they're created and feels the presence of another halfa (jason) or else feels a 'connection' to the Batfam in some way and ends up making Gotham his new home? (Found Family AU)
Also. Like. Could you imagine the freak out that Batman would have the first time an actual ghost came up through the pit? And if said ghost wasn't Phantom? Like nothing in his research mentioned creatures emerging from the pit itself! What is he to do?!
He created the pit in the cave to keep it safe from Ra's but he had no idea that the pits would come with their own 'problems.' And now suddenly there are these beings from the Infinite Realms hanging around the cave and he's desperately trying to research just who these beings are and what they're capable of and trying to find contingencies just in case they're more evil than gremlins. Plus HOW does he keep them from entering the cave itself?!
Imagine Technus messing with the technology in the cave. Skulker borrowing weapons to augment his suit. Johnny taking the Batfam's various motorcycles out for a spin.
Like...guys. There are soooooo many possiblities. So many.
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shrub-jay · 11 months ago
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gun-roswell · 3 months ago
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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Star Wars: The Bad Batch (Cartoon), Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types, Star Wars - All Media Types Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: CT-21-0408 | CT-1409 | Echo/CT-27-5555 | ARC-5555 | Fives, Clone Force 99 | Bad Batch/CT-21-0408 | CT-1409 | Echo Characters: CT-21-0408 | CT-1409 | Echo, CT-27-5555 | ARC-5555 | Fives Additional Tags: Inspired by Fanart, Ghostly Shenanigans, Cloneshipping | Clone Trooper/Clone Trooper Relationships (Star Wars), Reunions, Humour, PolyBatch Implied, Dialogue Heavy Series: Part 36 of Echo/Fives, Part 25 of The Poly Batch/The Poly Conglomerate
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Summary: He might be a ghost now, but Fives is still Echo’s ghost. And they’re talking it out now.
Inspired by fan art of Phantasm-Echo.
Part of Echo/Fives // The Bad Batch PolyBatch series
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igimacigy · 2 years ago
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reblog if ypu accept
anyway have a great day ya'll
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helloitsghost · 1 year ago
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Ghost shenanigans under the cut
where people gettin their licenses from👩‍🦯
Cause there’s no fucjing reason why in the same week I nearly get run over
three
fucking
times🤡
While crossing the street🤓
And they were all ugly ass cars as well bright ass Popsicle looking bright cars🤨
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exquisitelyinsanelady · 10 months ago
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Post-UTY, ghost Chujin haunts Ceroba and co. and demands an explanation from his dear wife that finally moved on
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gremlinmodetweeker · 3 months ago
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A Boy, A Twisted Memory and A Desire for Love
So this is the first official Ghost story on my blog. I know, I know, it's been a long time writing and I've not written something for the guy, but it's really just because I get so worried about writing him poorly.
I know he's a big military guy who hates having emotions and kills any and all kindness in his heart, but I also really like the idea of him exploring the concept of healing from his trauma? I dunno, I just thought about it.
Also, like König, I can't imagine Ghost keeping normal pets. Originally I had him get a spider, but then I read over his backstory again and it made more sense for him to get a venomous snake. I think it's a major step to overcoming his trauma. By the way! Big trigger warning, this is about a snake! This entire fic centres around a snake!
Anyways, I had some fun writing this but it made me super sad.
TW: Snake, discussion of past abuse, emotional trauma, child abuse (referenced), emotional disregulation
Wordcount: 1.7k
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Story Below the Cut
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A Boy, A Twisted Memory and A Desire for Love
Simon locked eyes with the little black and yellow creature housed deep within its cave. It was a small thing, barely hatched from its egg it looked like. The length of a ruler at most. It was a light thing, covered in fine scales along its supple body. This thing was venomous, yes, but it couldn’t do any real damage. It was a threat maybe to a mouse, but a man such as himself wouldn't fall to such weak poison. Swelling, pain, nausea, yes. But death? Not quite.
And yet, his heart quickened within his chest. He could feel the sweat forming on his brow. It had been so long since he’d seen one of these beasts, and yet the same fear from back then wormed its way inside him now.
“Hungry?” Simon’s voice was particularly gravelly, roughened by sleep deprivation and lack of use.
The creature made no move. He’d be surprised if the thing even heard him. Did it even have ears? He’d have to ask the breeder later.
“Been a long time since I’ve seen one of yer kind before,” he admitted. He didn’t quite know why, but it felt somewhat soothing to speak to the thing.
“I killed the last one of ye that I saw. Crushed the fucker right under my boot, I did.”
It didn’t seem to scare the beast off. He wondered if it really was more afraid of him than he was of it. He hoped that was true. He didn’t want to admit that the fear still wriggled under his skin.
“He wasn’t anything like what my dad ‘ad,” Simon closed his eyes as the oppressive memories washed over him, “that one was a right bastard. Bigger than anything I’ve seen ever since. Shoved it right in my face, he did. Wouldn’t let me go till I kissed it right on the lips. If it bit me, I wouldn’t be standin’ ‘ere. But you,” Simon opened his eyes, dark eyes matching two glassy eyes of inky black, “you’re nothing. You're pathetic. You’re… You're so small.”
Simon turned back to the breeder.
Finally, the creature came to its senses and slithered back further into its burrow. So sleek and streamlined, and yet so slow to move. It was afraid of him, that Simon decided the moment he noticed that despite backing away, it didn’t dare look elsewhere.
“How much for this one?” he asked as he pointed at the plastic cube.
“That one?” the woman blinked and looked at what he was pointing at, “the female or the male?”
“The female,” Simon clarified.
“Oh she’s pretty, isn’t she?” the woman adjusted her glasses as she slid behind the plastic cube, “poor girl’s probably pretty scared being out here.” She didn’t mention how terrifying Simon was in his dark clothing, rough fabric stretched tight across his broad frame. He was used to scaring people by this point. Sometimes, like now, he wished he wasn’t.
“How do you pronounce that?” Simon pointed at the name that had been scrawled in blue ballpoint pen on a blank sticker.
“Boida dendrophila,” the woman replied, “she’s pretty young, but she’ll get big soon enough.”
“She’s one of them big ones, yeah?” Simon asked aloofly.
“You bet your arse,” the woman grinned, “she’ll be big soon enough. Don’t know much about ‘em?”
“Oh no,” Simon leaned down to take a better look at the little beast, “I’ve been doing my reading.”
“You got a big enough enclosure for her?” the woman quizzed him.
“Sure do,” Simon hummed, “I built her an enclosure myself. It’s nearly as tall as me, long too. Got some nice branches for her to climb and all that..”
“Wow that’s a lot of space. You sure that’s not too much?” the woman frowned.
“She won’t be in there for a bit, I’ve got something for while she’s small,” Simon reasoned.
What a stupid question.
“Oh well that’s fine,” the woman broke out into another smile, “but yeah she’s eating mostly baby mice, an adult once in a while. You know she’ll be eating bigger things when she’s full grown, right? You can handle that?”
“I think I’ll be quite alright,” Simon mused, “have to admit, she’s a right beauty.”
“She really is, isn’t she?” the woman gushed, “I’ve been raising her since she was just hatched. But now? Well, normally I sell them off a bit sooner, but she grew on me. Unfortunately, the husband isn’t too fond of her and wants her to be moved on.”
“Why’s that?” Simon looked at the woman from behind his sunglasses.
“Oh he got bit when she was the length of a pencil,” the woman laughed, “he’s held it against her ever since!”
“Heard her kind can get pretty feisty,” Simon commented as he looked back at the spider.
“They can get a bit aggressive, I won't lie to you. A bit territorial, too,” the woman explained carefully so as not to scare off the only interested customer she had all weekend.
“Real fast,” Simon continued on, “with nasty bites.”
“Sounds like you’ve done your reading,” the woman laughed uncomfortably.
“Course,” Simon refrained from rolling his eyes, “so how much is she? The sticker’s ripped.”
“She’s on sale, actually,” the woman grinned, “only a couple hundred quid.”
“That much, eh?” Simon straightened up to tower over the slender woman.
“Normally she could be anywhere up to four hundred,” the woman fought back against the subtle threat of intimidation.
“Well then,” Simon looked down at the cube, “looks like I got a good deal then.”
“You won’t go stompin’ on her, will you?” the woman furrowed her brows.
“No ma’am, that was just what I had to do when I went out to the Middle East,” Simon chuckled humorlessly, “I wouldn’t dream of hurtin’ this here little lady.”
The woman grinned as she counted her bills, Simon smiled just slightly as he picked up the container and brought it back to his car.
When he got home, he carefully moved the little creature into the glass enclosure of dirt, leaf litter and cork bark. He put it back in its place on his shelf and smiled.
“Dendrophila, eh?” he chuckled, “how ‘bout Ophelia? That’s a cute lil name for ya.”
The creature only burrowed away under the cork bark, eager to get out of sight of the frightening giant before her. He didn’t blame the little thing, he’d be terrified of himself if he was a younger man.
Once, he’d hardened himself into an unstoppable thing, a monster of a man. He had formed his shell through cruel lashings the world had lavished upon him. He took ablutions in raining blood. He was festering sickness or silver sin. He was what he despised in the world, the monster he tried to protect his own family from. When his brothers in arms welcomed each other warmly, they regarded him as a feral dog to be kept at a distance, chained in the backyard, out in the rain.
In Simon’s heart there was no room for love. He was not a man forged in kindness and love. He was the unfortunate son of Mr. Riley, cursed from birth to be raised in the muck and mire of human atrocities. He had been calloused by the time he was nine, and by the time he joined the military even the recruiting officers were afraid of him. He was too cruel, too strict, too much for anyone to handle. He could brute-force his way through life, but only for so long.
Even monsters had hearts. This was the unfortunate fact that Simon had learned far too late in life. He hated himself for how he wallowed in his loneliness. He thought his team would be enough, but there was a despicable part that still resided deep within him. He could offer his rotten sort of love to his teammates, but he could never care for them like he needed to. There was a part of him that had been stunted since childhood, and far too late it breached his skin to scream into his ears, begging him to please just notice me, notice me and don't let me die here inside of you.
He didn’t want to, but he spoke to a therapist. It was Price's advice after he'd broken down with a bottle of whisky in one hand and a revolver in the other. Price promised to never say a word as he unwound his lieutenant's fingers from the trigger.
A week later he'd arrived at a small office. They’d been cowed by him at first. Everyone was, but something about frightening the one person he wanted to be helped by hurt a part of Simon he wished to rip from his chest. Once he would have laughed, but in that office, he could only hurt. No tears fell, but his walls did and he was able to speak openly for the first time in his entire life without the help of a bottle of jack and a pair of dice. It felt wrong. He hated it, but he learned.
His therapist told him that to help rid himself of this festering parasite of an emotion, he should try to nurture the damned thing. Simon had laughed in the man’s face. He then told him to go to Hell. The man had learned not to flinch in the face of a predator, and so pushed forth. He said that to grow, Simon could try getting a cat or a dog. Something he could raise with the love he never had been given as a boy.
He said that he needed something to love or else he'd never be able to heal. Simon scoffed and left the room, but not before booking another appointment. The smug look on his therapist’s face disgusted him. He turned quickly and left.
So maybe it was out of spite that he bought Ophelia, but there was a part of him that felt like he needed the little creature. He needed something to love, and so he did. He loved the Ophelia with all his heart. He nurtured her and cared for her as best he could.
Months passed, and he started to handle Ophelia. She hissed, she scurried away, she did everything to get away from Simon’s touch. He figured that if he had to face himself, he’d do much the same. He wasn’t a creature born of love and compassion. He was death, in face and in heart, but each time he brought Ohpelia’s container out and changed her water, when she ate from his tongs, he could feel his rotten heart beating within his chest. It made him smile despite himself.
He was not a creature of love, and yet it was love he felt when Ophelia tentatively reached out and slithered up his hand. When he raised her up, ever so gently, he couldn’t help but cry.
How cruel was the world that a boy, born from street gutters and raised by heavy hands, would only ever feel love for the first time in a dingy London flat on his thirty-first birthday, alone save for the venomous snake in his hands?
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Stories
Ghost Dump
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gsunny6 · 2 years ago
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Today, Zerith Ghost Shenanigans™️ (nobody knows ur there tho. Probably. Vince might know tho)
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haunted-marshes · 3 months ago
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Spoopy forgets that they're a ghost sometimes, or what exactly they can or can't do because of it. Very annoying when they want to pet The Cat.
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grey-viridian · 16 days ago
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Donnie's not used to having long mask tales, and Leo uses it for pranks. Raph just wants one normal day in this house.
Please enjoy this little silly comic while I'm working on the main story.
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forsworned · 21 days ago
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Being the only female on TF141 is like Simon constantly scolding you for getting into sheningans with Johnny and Kyle while Price sits on his arm chair with a good book, whiskey in hand and him puffing out smoke like a chimney from his cigar like the daddy he is.
"Delete it."
"Why?"
"Cos I fockin' said so."
You cock an amused brow at him as you look up from the embarrassingly cute photo of the skull-masked behemoth fast sleep and cuddling your Hello Kitty plushie. "Cos y'fockin' said so?" You mock his gravelly Manchester accent and it sends Johnny and Kyle into a fit of giggles. And even Price is chuffed by it. It's contagious really.
It lets your guard down enough for him to yank your phone out of your hand deleting the picture with a swiftness that made your eyes ream and your heart jump. You all groan and jeer at him for being a poor sport but he's quite satisfied with himself. Little does he know, you have a few copies of it in your desktop.
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bruciemilf · 21 days ago
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There’s something off about Bruce.
Dick’s eye is trained for detail; He has to calculate every leap, every step, every breath, every count. He’s a showman. Everything is routine, and routine is everything.
Injury isn’t unusual, especially for his father .He out stubborns Tim in resisting medical examinations, after all.
For Bruce, secrets are protection. He lied about every injury he had when Dick was Robin, suffering in silent agony as the pain grew and grew, a tradition he carries on from Jason to Damian.
If Bruce screams, it’s bad.
“God fucking dammit, how the fuck does he do this? Who the fuck breaks their femur AND just carries on? Jesus FUCKING Christ.”
Bruce curses under his breath, profanity hushed. Dick’s veins freeze, blood turning to stone. He guesses his shock is obvious because Jason mirrors it to perfection.
One; Bruce doesn’t curse.
Two; He definitely doesn’t curse in a jersey accent.
The unease is pungent. Alfred practically tastes it, vitriolic as anything. His chest is taut, pulse slow, “Sir,” it’s cautious, “Shall I prepare the supplies?”
‘Bruce’ waves his hand, voice gruffer, lower, smokey, “Yeah, thanks, babe,”
Alfred blinks. And whoever pretends to be Bruce, blinks back, almost like a deer being cornered by an English hound, smile a bit boyish and unsure.
“…Thomas?”
“… Okay, you’re gonna laugh—“
Dick is reeling, because apparently:
His dead grandparents have been possessing his father throughout the years and they, wards to the best detective in the world, never caught on.
“Look, I get you’re pissed, BUT,” It’s so unbelievably weird watching Bruce be so expressive;
His hands move energetically, like they have their own voices, and his rain soft voice catches on fire when his father talks through him,
“This IS 50% MY body, technically.“
“Thomas, dear, that is not how that works. Come now, you’re scaring our grandchildren.”
And Jason’s voice is uncharacteristically soft when he speaks, more posh, more elegant . That is not his brother.
Alfred passes out, to no one’s surprise.
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igimacigy · 2 years ago
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dead furry
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