#ghostly prompt

[ghostly-prompts]

Prompt #618

We may no longer be together, but your birthday still comes up in my calendar every year.

[froottalks]

Watching Your Back - Carol Danvers x reader

(A/N: Saw this prompt by @ghostly-prompts and thought it'd be a fun idea.)

Prompt 606 “Where were you when I needed you? When I faced my greatest enemy?” “Watching your back.”

[summary: carol is angry and upset that reader wasn't there to help her but didn't know that reader had her back all along.]

Masterlist

The sun had dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow across the city's skyline. You stood on the rooftop, the soft breeze ruffling your hair as you stared out at the twinkling lights below. It had been a long day, and the weight of the world seemed to rest on your shoulders. The thought of the battles you had fought, the enemies you had faced, and the sacrifices you had made made your heart heavy.

"Where were you when I needed you? When I faced my greatest enemy?" a voice echoed from behind you, filled with a mix of frustration and hurt.

You turned, finding Carol Danvers leaning against a nearby ledge, her arms crossed over her chest. Her eyes held a storm of emotions, a mixture of anger and sadness that you had never seen before. It was a stark contrast to the confident and composed Captain Marvel you were accustomed to.

Your heart ached at her words, feeling the depth of the pain in her voice. You took a step toward her, your expression softening. "Carol..."

She held up a hand, cutting you off. "No, just listen. I don't want excuses. I want to know why you weren't there when I needed you the most."

You took a deep breath, struggling to find the words to explain. "I... I never meant to let you down, Carol. You know that, right?"

She sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly. "I know. But it's hard not to feel abandoned when the person you trust the most isn't there when it counts."

You walked closer to her, your heart aching with every step. "I'm sorry. I never wanted you to feel that way."

She looked up at you, her blue eyes searching yours for sincerity. "Where were you?"

"Watching your back," you replied without hesitation. "Even when you couldn't see me, I was there. I was supporting you, believing in you, every step of the way."

Carol's expression softened, the anger in her eyes melting away. "Even when it felt like I was alone?"

"Especially then," you said, your voice gentle yet resolute. "You've always been strong, Carol, but even the strongest need someone by their side sometimes. I wanted to be that person for you."

Tears glistened in her eyes as she reached out, gently cupping your cheek with her hand. "I've faced countless enemies and challenges, but this... this was the hardest. Feeling like I had lost you."

You covered her hand with yours, leaning into her touch. "You'll never lose me, Carol. I'll always be here for you, no matter what."

A small, almost imperceptible smile tugged at the corners of her lips. "I guess I should've known better than to doubt that."

You stepped closer, wrapping your arms around her in a warm embrace. She hesitated for a moment before returning the hug, her strong arms enveloping you in a comforting hold. In that moment, as the city lights danced around you, you knew that no matter the challenges that lay ahead, you and Carol would face them together. And as long as you were watching her back, she would never truly be alone.

THE END

[azulhood]

DPxDC crossover but, instead of Danny being his ghostly-horror self, the justice league believe that he's just some guy.

Danny: *glowing eyes, sharp teeth, aura of eldritch being*

Villain: You're seeing this right?

Justice league: *turns around to find all the ghostly stuff gone* oh that's Danny *waves* hi Danny!

Villain: ...are you being serious right now?

It's not even that he's doing it on purpose, it's just anytime he does ghost things none of the heros are looking, and when they do have him in their sights he's just a normal person.

It probably wouldn't work for batman and his thousand cameras, but let's just say that it never got his attention cause no one in the league thought to mention it and the one time he did check it was just regular dude hours.

To the Justice league Danny is the humanist human to ever human.

Which is why they are so confused as to why this small branch of the government (mad scientist parents optional) is so sure he isn't.

[that-one-weird-cloud0]

Batfam: ghosts aren’t real.

Danny, having been trying to explain that he’s the dead boy to them or 3 hours: *pulls sleeve up and sticks out arm*

Danny: Find. A. Pulse.

Batfam: Danny, how is this—oh my god where is your pulse?

[call-me-strega]

Dc x Dp Prompt #21: Petition to the King

I haven’t done one of these in a while so here we go:

AU where Thomas and Martha Wayne live in the Ghost Zone version of Gotham and have been collecting signatures from the other ghosts there for a few years now. Since the Ghost Prince Phantom has finally come of age and is now able to hold court/assemblies they approach him with their official petition and beseech him: Please allow them avenge their grandson and countless other souls, who’ve signed agreeing to the petition, to haunt and torment the Joker for the rest of his living days. May he never find peace even in sleep, even in death.

Danny being the gracious prince he is agrees. Even going as far as to take the names of literally everyone on the list and create a haunting rotation, for who gets to torment the Joker on which days, with Thomas and Martha having first dibs.

The grandson in question is a revenant and thus also eligible to be put on the haunting rotation so Danny decides to reach out and go to Gotham himself and ask if he wants to haunt the Joker with his grandparents. Thomas and Martha tag along bc they wanna visit their grand-babies, their son, and their partner who raised him.

Jason isn’t sure what to make of his doting ghostly grandparents, the beautiful interdimensional king, or the apparent laundry list of people ready to mess with the Joker’s mind, but hey! If he can’t kill the Joker, eternal torment isn’t a bad deal to swing!

[stars-obsession-pit]

A cult has been causing trouble for the Infinite Realms in their search for power and eternal life. And to make things worse, the Observants suspect that they have at least one actual ghost—or possibly even a traitorous Observant—working with them and interfering with their view. This could become a major problem…

However, as Observants, they’ve sworn not to intervene directly, so they have to pick someone else to look deeper into the situation for them. And, if necessary, to deal with it.

They choose Phantom for this role, since his half-human nature means he���ll have an easier time operating in the living world. Danny’s not entirely happy with the assignment, but the situation does seem like a genuine issue so he’s willing to look into it (if in his own way).

Since he doesn’t know how prepared the cult is for ghosts, he decides that infiltration would be the best way to gather info. Thus, he takes on a new identity in his human form and approaches the cult, expressing interest in the publicly known part of their group. Then, a bit later, he manages to successfully gain admittance into some of the more private meetings. Everything is progressing as planned!

…Though he didn’t expect to like one of his fellow initiates so much. He hopes he can change their mind on things and bring them out of the cult with him when he’s done.

Meanwhile, a hero from the Justice League has also been sent to infiltrate the cult and investigate the rumors about it. It’s gone off without a hitch so far, but they’ve gained a potential entanglement in the form of one of the other new members whom they’re developing a crush on…

[spacedace]

dp x dc prompt/mini blurb thing:

Somewhere along the line, stealing the Batmobile had seemed like the best option.

Elle would stand by that - admittedly short-sighted and kind of panic induced - logic. It was a vehicle that no one would try and stop. It was fast. The keys were in the ignition. Easiest car theft of her life. Or, well, unlife. Whatever. Still the easiest.

She may have forgotten that Superman could fly as fast as the stupid tank of a car could go. Or that Gotham had other vigilantes, that had bikes that were way more maneuverable, or that Billy was a big baby about car chases.

“WATCH THE ROAD!”

“YOU WATCH THE ROAD I’M DRIVING HERE!”

[ghostlysoaps]

A Minor Annoyance

They’re back at base again and Ghost has been holed up in his office for the majority of the week in an attempt to get back on track with his ever-increasing backlog of paperwork. The knock on his door is therefore welcome, though surprising. He sits up straighter, wincing when several joints pop in protest, calling for them to come in.

Gaz leans himself against the doorframe. He, too, looks exhausted. Exhausted and irritated.

“I need your help wrangling Soap,” he says without preamble or an arduous attempt at small talk.

Ghost blinks at him.

“What?”

“He’s a stubborn bastard who won’t listen to reason,” Gaz shrugs. “And if it comes down to knocking him out in order to get him to rest, I’d rather have help carrying his leaden arse back to his room.”

Ghost blames sleep deprivation for the way he snorts.

“Alright,” he acquiesces, following behind the sergeant with amused wariness dogging his steps.

-

They find Soap outside surrounded by the scent of petrichor and bleary-eyed recruits. A gust of wind weaves around them, its chilling bite unmistakable where it tugs upon their hair and clothes, rustling through the pine-ridden area like an unexpected whisper. Ghost waits for Soap to send the group out on the track before he approaches, brow furrowed in response to the thickness layered over his voice. He'd sounded as if he spoke from deep in his throat, and with an air of a man pretending as if it didn’t pain him to do so. As he draws closer, Ghost allows the gravel beneath his feet to shift deliberately.

Soap jerks, swings his head around when Ghost comes to stand at his side, looking up at him with bloodshot eyes. The tip of his nose is red too, his cheeks a tad puffy, though he carries himself admirably regardless. Straight-backed and refusing to huddle into the oversized jacket he's wearing.

"Lt.? What're y'doing ‘ere?”

“I'm relieving you of your duties. Garrick can take it from here,” he replies, throwing Gaz a look that is met with surreptitious thumbs-up. He'll ask Price to look into leave for him. Soap's not the only one itching to work himself into an early grave by the looks of it.

It must be a cold day in hell, he muses, if I'm the one with the healthiest work-life balance at the moment.

“What?! Get tae and dinnae talk pish! I'm fine. I can work, Sir, I dinnae need–”

“That was an order, Sergeant. You can either leave on your own two feet or slung over my shoulder. Choice is yours.”

Soap's eyes narrow, his shoulders drawing up defensively, lips pulled back in a sneer. “You wouldn't dare.”

Which is about the worst thing he could've possibly said.

All at once Simon is twelve years old again with a defiant Tommy glaring daggers at him from across the stained rug, those fateful words a hiss through clenched teeth. Even the keen knowledge of their mother’s impending disappointment, how she'd give him a hushed dressing down in the aftermath of their scuffle, hadn't curbed his need to lunge for him. It's like the flip of a switch. Three simple words and suddenly Ghost is vibrating with the desire to prove Soap wrong. Some previously dormant code ingrained deep in his DNA flaring to life with all the speed of an oxygen fire.

Those memories carry him forward and the sudden shift in Johnny’s expression, the moment he realises he’s sealed his fate proper, sends a thrill skittering down his spine.

“Wait, Ghost, I–” is about as far as he comes before the words change into an unintelligible blend of Scottish nonsense, voice strained from having his diaphragm compressed. “Put me doon ye clarty bastard! Gaz!”

“Dream come true for you, huh?” Gaz says with a jaunty wave at their retreating backs, mirth etched into the crinkled lines around his eyes.

“I'll fuckin’ kill ye, ye clipe wopper! Lemme doon so ah can wring ‘is bleedin’ neck!” Soap barks, squirming in Ghost's grasp like a recalcitrant eel. It's a blessing that Soap's already running on fumes since, true to his callsign, it's damn near impossible to keep him securely slung over his shoulder.

By his third attempt to claw Ghost's back to shreds, Ghost sighs and pats him firmly on the rump. Soap instantly stills. Flushed to high-heavens if Ghost were to hazard a guess – not that he can see him from this angle. “Settle down, Sergeant, and I might be convinced to let you walk on your own.”

“Hate you,” Johnny wheezes.

Ghost grunts and maneuvers the door open, settling Johnny back on his feet again when it swings shut with a resounding thud. He steadies him when he wobbles on his feet and Johnny lets him with little fuss. Resigned to his fate he shuffles along after Ghost, who detours briefly to score each of them a cuppa. He ladles honey into Johnny’s mug and presses it into his freezing hands. Gets a muttered, unenthusiastic and intentionally mocking “cheers,” for it.

“You're a right cunt when you're sick.”

“Yer a right cunt all o’ the time,” Soap fires back. He's glaring mutinously into his least preferred beverage, cradled close to his chest while he watches Ghost tidy up after them. “Jus’ hate bein’ sick ‘s all. Feel proper boggin’ no matter how many times ah shower an’ my nose is both runny and stuffed as if th’ physics of tha is s'pose to make sense. Could'a powered through it.”

“That's how you end up forcefully strapped to a bed in medical suffering from pneumonia and severe dehydration.”

Johnny pauses. A small smile graces his face and Ghost hastily turns back to wiping down the counters to keep himself from being blinded.

One shouldn't stare directly into the sun after all.

“Speakin’ from experience, sir?”

Ghost doesn't answer, as if that isn't a reply in-and-of-itself, merely nudges Johnny back into moving. He gets him all the way to his door before Soap's brow creases in confusion. His mouth opens, closes, opens again while Ghost trudges inside with little fanfare, door left gaping in silent invitation. Johnny seizes it with both hands after dithering at his threshold a second longer.

He examines the impersonal space with keen interest, slurping obnoxiously at his tea as if to detract from how his hands flutter over scuffed paint and barren walls, his gaze catching over the miniscule signs someone is living there at all.

“Why'ahm I ‘ere, Ghost?” Soap asks when he's done, pinning him in place with the intensity of his stare. It's the same focus he dedicates to a particularly difficult math equation or sketching up blueprints with the precision of a surgeon's scalpel. It's a heady feeling to be on the receiving end of it. Heady and terrifying.

“Figured you'd appreciate the en-suite,” Ghost says, violently stamping down on the truth until it comes out in a statement easier to digest. “And someone needs to make sure you stay in place. Bloody flight risk that you are.”

You'd look good in my clothes, in my bed, as a permanent fixture here. This is as much for me as it is for you. A taste of what I can't have.

He hopes Soap doesn't read between the lines this time – always too perceptive for Ghost's questionable sanity.

“An’ where d'ye plan on sleeping?” Johnny smiles, a mote amused and as sweet as the honey lingering on his lips.

“Floor. Or Gaz's room if he doesn't delete those pictures he took.”

Johnny’s eyes go dark as sin.

“Oh, that'll be th’ least of his worries.”

“Sleep, MacTavish. You can come up with your convoluted revenge plot later.”

“Yes sir.” He gives a lazy salute and flops down on Ghost's bed with a grunt – boots and all, the absolute heathen. Ghost watches him rearrange himself into a position more befitting a person who's suffered a recent spinal fracture when Johnny peers up at him again from under thick lashes. “Dinnae think you're exempt from those, Lt. Ah know where ye live now.”

Ghost sighs and tosses the hoodie folded over his chair at Johnny’s face, taking great pleasure in closing the bathroom door in the face of Johnny's indignant name-calling.

-

Prompts via @whumperless-whump-event and @seth-whumps

[emacrow]

When Danny hides his corpses along with Elle and Dan.. those fucking Archaeologists are persistent little shits then shenanigans happens..

He hide them in the Antarctica, where barely any humans goes beside a couple groups of persistent scientists living there and the hidden society of cannibalistic humaniod yetis....

There was no way anyone could find their bodies under 60 feet of snow and frozen millennium ice...

Ancients be damned 4 months later, danny felt a disturbance in his hidden grave only to see History News found 3 preserved corpses perfectly intact in a solid crystallized looking coffin the God damn Antarctica.

Took him a solid 5 days to find the right God forsaken headquarters of those Archaeologists who already send their bodies to gotham...

He about to flip his lid, especially as it was getting to him very badly... by how sleep deprived his ghost side was being to the point that the disturbed.. eldritch part of his very being was slipping a bit..

Then the truck driving with their corpses got stolen by some low grade wanna be villain by the name of 'the penguin'.

Who has his goons trying to break the crystal coffin into pieces with how priceless it beholding.

Danny brought Elle and Dan into this because he doesn't know gotham and three heads work better then one with the search out.

By the time, they actually found the Right fucking Hideout; because how many fucking hideout does a fucking penguin needs.

They were too late by a fucking hour, because of course something had to take their coffin.

Penguins already look arrested and it seem Batman got their coffin, whom had sent it to the Watchtower to get analyzed after they found a heart beating after 40 minutes to the batcave..

Danny wanted to ghost screamed by then...

(Wayyy later in the plot that I'll never finish)

Constantine whom is about to drinking scotch whiskey before it slapped by the ghostly eldritch child who shoving an glowing green smoothie in his hands for the 3rd time.

He look at them with a begrudgingly look who glares back at him with the similar mom glare looks before he sighed and drink the smoothie.

He ain't admitting it taste so much fucking better then his usual whiskey for shit.

Meanwhile Elle is enjoying having a younger halfa to bother even if his core is all types of fucked up and looking worse then a apple that fell off the ugly tree, got shredded by a wood chipper, mashed back together and then peeled off by a potato peeler before stomped on.

[ghostly-prompts]

Prompt #616

“I’m sorry for this.”

“Which part?”

[booklover223]

Okay but Danny would TOTALLY have a praise kink because of his obsession specifically I’m talking about “good boy” “hero” “protector” etc it could be sexual or not

Non sexually he could get super happy if like an old granny calls him a good boy and pats his head when he saves her from a ghost attack (or rogue attack if dcxdp) and no one’s every called him that like omg he blushes bright red/green and his core sings because he’s helping and actually being appreciated I just want my boy happy😭 (this whole post also applies to Jason Todd)

[home-of-renn]

Danny's in his last year of high school, only a month away from graduating. No more overdue assignments or late-night cram sessions. No more crowded hallways and after-school detentions. No more stress.

He's so close he can almost taste it.

But then Dani shows up, injured and whimpering and collapsing into his lap.

He may or may not have scared the daylights out of a few lower years and almost body-slammed Dale trying to get Dani out the door and to the nearest location with first aid supplies.

So what if he spent almost an hour holed up with Dani in the nurse's office patching her up while Mr Lancer and the paramedics he called tried to coax him into unlocking the door. So what if his Obsession slipped up after not seeing Dani for more than six months, only to have her show up looking ready to destabilise and melt into a puddle of goo.

The worst part of it all is that suddenly everyone's got the wrong idea.

Over the course of his high school career, Danny's endured a lot. He's gone from being a promising student to a school-skipping degenerate with barely passable grades and a weak bladder. It's bad enough he'll always be the Fenton kid, but now he's the Fenton kid who's secretly a teen father with a kid he's been hiding since freshman year. Now he's the talk of the town and he can't escape the pointed whispers and invasive questions.

He was so, so close.

[that-one-weird-cloud0]

Danny: damn bro you smelly as fuckkkkk wtf you bathe in? Sewage?!?

Jason: wtf did you just say

Danny: yo hold still a sec

Jason: wha—

Danny, pulls toxic dark green sludge out of Jason’s chest that fucking wiggles around like a parasite: there the little bugger is

Batfam: 0-0

Danny:

Batfam:

Danny: *eats it*

Batfam: ?!?!!!!?!??!?!!!?!!???!!!!!??

[joaniejustwokeup]

DPxDC Prompt:

The next blow sent the human tumbling into the wall. It wheezed and spat up a gob of blood, pulling itself up on trembling arms and legs.

Pathetic.

“So this is the mortal who captured our young king’s attention. The so-called warrior who he trusted with the sacred duty of guarding his core.”

A shadowed hand pinned it to the wall and it uselessly pawed at the blade-like claws pressed against its fragile throat.

“How a weakling like you seduced High King Phantom, I’ll never know.”

The human squeezed its eyes shut. I’m sorry Danny, it mouthed with cracked and bleeding lips.

The impudence.

Slammed into the ruined bricks once more, the human let out a breathless cry.

“You dare address him like that. You dare to call upon his living name!” Dagger sharp teeth dripped shadowy ectoplasm inches from the mortal’s flesh.

“I’m doing him a favor, disposing of you.”

There was silence.

Then.

The human looked up with glowing green eyes.

A wave of unearthly force erupted from its body.

A dual layered voice echoed out from its miserable throat.

“Oh you just made a BIG mistake.”

[stars-obsession-pit]

The ghost of a past regret

The tome hidden under Damian’s mattress continued to burn in the back of his mind. He knows he shouldn’t have kept it. Magic is dangerous, that of the Infinite Realms especially so. And there was no guarantee the book was even accurate; he’d never given the cultists a chance to make use of its contents.

But a single section from it refused to leave his mind. He couldn’t just throw out the opportunity it offered.

‘Danyal…’

–––

Damian had hated to admit it, but his twin brother could be cannier than him at times. Danyal had caught on to the harm of the League long before he ever had.

And he had tried to get out. To get them both out.

Damn him. Why couldn’t Danyal have been selfish for once in his life…

But Damian had still been caught up in it all. He was the perfect heir. He was loyal. He would not betray his family in the League.

And yet he’d been so quick to betray his brother…

Danyal’s shocked gasp as Damian’s knife slipped between his ribs still echoed in his ears when he awoke from nightmares. Sometimes, on particularly bad nights, he would swear he could still feel the blood dripping down his hands, and amount of scrubbing ever made the sensation go away.

He was sure Alfred at least had noticed the redness of his hands, but he never pushed for answers. Damian was thankful for that, even as he felt undeserving of the comfort. It had all been his fault.

At the time of the betrayal, Damian had felt little of the emotional weight. He was disappointed in his brother, but he was just doing his duty to the League. It would only be later that it set in, and the regrets continued to eat at him long after his family forbid all discussion of the traitor his twin.

What if he hadn’t fought? Would they have succeeded at escaping? Would they have met their father sooner? Would he still be able to see Danyal’s smile?

It was pointless to wonder. Danyal was gone.

–––

But perhaps not completely.

The siren song of the spellbook continued to call to him. The first thing to ever offer even the faintest glimmer of hope for finding closure.

For it contained a ritual to summon the ghosts of the betrayed.

Maybe it wouldn’t work. Regardless of the book’s accuracy, he’d never done anything like it before and wouldn’t be using the spell for its intended purpose. It was described for use in combat, tearing apart enemies with the specters of the vengeful dead, not for seeking atonement. Was changing the context even possible without entirely restructuring the ritual? He didn’t know.

And it wasn’t like he could ask the magicians of the Justice League Dark for help—even the most unscrupulous among them would still try to dissuade him and likely inform his father.

But how could he not try?

It might be wishful thinking to hope he would ever forgive him. But even if Danyal rejects the apology, it would still be worth it just to see his brother just one more time…

He grit his teeth and clamped his eyes shut as emotions warred against logic inside him. It was a terrible idea. He shouldn’t do it. He shouldn’t.

‘Damn it.’

The tome felt impossibly heavy as he pulled it from under the mattress with unsteady hands.

He had a ritual to set up.

[spacedace]

Dp x dc prompt/idea:

So you guys know the idea of sister towns/cities right? Like Boring Oregon & Dull Scotland are considered sister/paired towns because of their names are in the same vibe and people think it's funny.

Now consider: Amity Park & Gotham are sister cities, and have been for ages. Since before they were even cities, some say before they were even towns. Both being created by folks of the magical persuasion (though in different veins).

Now over time it's something that people - more so in Gotham, that grew and grew and grew, forgetting some of the "smaller" history along the way - don't think about much any more. A plaque beneath Amity Park's welcome sign. A bit of obscure trivia that gets pulled out in the more serious pub quizzes in Gotham. Nothing that's top of mind to anybody these days, what with Amity's ghosts and Gotham's...well, everything.

At least, it wasn't top of mind until the earthquake hit and the government cut the ailing city off from the rest of the world.

Amity Park has had it's fair share of the US government fucking them over, it took ages to drive out the GIW and for Amity Park to find peace with their undead neighbors and Phantom - their own Ghost King - that called their little city home.

So the people of Amity Park, deeply suspicious and untrusting of the government, used to disasters well beyond the scope of what normal cities are accustomed to facing and stuffed full of Midwestern politeness and a strong sense of duty to help their neighbors - no matter how far away - does what the rest of the world refuses to do.

They come together and do everything they can to help.

The people in the ruins and wreckage of Gotham are not anywhere near prepared for bright green glowing portals to start popping open all over the place. They are even less prepared for those portals to have a strange mix of glowing, flying entities and determined midwesterners brandishing emergency supplies and warm casseroles. But hey, it's not like anyone else in the world seems to give a damn if Gotham lives or dies, and these Amity Park folks seem like their kid of people.