Apparently this needs to be said so
Forgetting things is morally neutral! Memory issues are morally neutral!
You're not a bad person if you...
forget things quickly
forget people
can't remember entire stages of your life
can't remember important things
can remember some things very well and forget other things all the time
can't remember things (or anything!) about your interests
forget to eat, sleep, go to the bathroom, etc
forget to reply to texts
remember things and immediately forget them again
can't remember birthdays, events, etc
frequently answer 'I forgot' to questions
can't retain new information
forget things you used to know
only remember things when it's too late
have vague, distorted and/or unreliable memories
depend on others to know how an event you were in played out
have other symptoms that are worsened by memory issues and vice versa
... and anything else I might have missed!
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To cover up the happenings of amity park, Danny comes up with a GENIUS idea (shut up Sam).
The small videos and pictures of him and the ghosts that managed to escape their city were dangerous if a hero were to look into their business.
With Tucker and Sam, they created a 'behind the scenes'.
(The video starts with Phantom. He's chasing something– someone, building's sweep past as the two duke it out midair.
That is, until someone yells.
"CUT!"
The background is taken away, leaving behind a green screen. Phantom and the ghost, now recognised as Ember Mclain, hang midair, dangling.
The camera zooms in on Phantom, as he slips off his white wig and scratches his scalp.
"Danny! Stop taking off the wig!" Someone yells off screen, to which Damny rolls his eyes to, screaming back a "but it's scratchy!".
The video stops there.)
They did NOT expect the amount of views this would get.
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Phantom letters - DPXDC PROMPT
The bats wake up one day to the internet going crazy; people around the world were getting letters from they're diseased loved ones. The reactions are mixed, from people being outraged for the "prank" to people crying in melancholy at getting closure.
All the letters have something in common: They're closed with a green sealing wax that had an stylize DP and the name Phantom beneath it. Posts about the cards were using the # Phantom Letters.
The bats are discussing the viral posts in the cave when Alfred comes holding a basket filled with letters, announcing they were left at the doors. The letters had the sealing wax that they recognize from the posts. Checking the cameras they can see how they glitch before the basket appears.
Alfred starts to distribute the letters that had only one destinatary. Letters from each Thomas and Martha to both Bruce and Alfred. Letters from each John and Mary to Dick. A letter from Catherine to Jason. A letter from the Drake's to Tim, and another one to Bruce.
Once they had calmed down enough from the shock, Alfred proceeded to read the shared recipients. From Thomas and Martha to "The grandchildren we never got to meet." From John and Mary to "the family that took our little Robin in." Letters from Catherine to "My little boys family." The letters were directed to people the deceased didn't get to meet.
As much as the mere existence of the letters tugged at their hearts, they decided to not read them until they verified that the handwriting actually belong to the ones it claimed. They checked each letter, and in the end confirmed the letters were in fact from they're lost love ones.
After much discussion, each person makes the decision to read they're own letters later in private, and they proceed to read the ones that shared recipients out loud. The letter mentioned specifics like names and events that the deceased shouldn't have been able to know, including they're vigilante abilities, which had them pause each time to panic a bit. But what was more interested were certain pieces of the letters that mentioned a Prince Phantom.
"Prince Phantom said to don't mention things past our death, but it wasn't a command, so we're hoping this won't be much of a problem." - John and Mary
"I still can't believe Prince Phantom is letting us do this, but I'm so glad." - Catherine
It finally paints the mystery in a more concerning light when at the end of Thomas and Martha's letter there is a call for help.
"We're sorry for ending the letter on a serious tone, but seeing the kind of job you all get involved in, we wanted to ask: Could you please help Prince Phantom? Phantom had asked us to not give information about this, but he's so young, and has already been hurt so much. Please, check on Amity Park, Illinois."
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-
Meanwhile, team Phantom has decided that they needed to get the news about the GIW out of Amity and ask for help. Two problems:
the GIW blocks any technological attempt made.
People might be afraid to learn that ghosts exist and side with the GIW.
As a way to deal with the public image, Phantom opens a possibility that the death have never had:
"All afterlives are open to write letters to their love ones that are still alive today. Nothing that includes threats, and don't go talking about the anti-ecto acts or Amity Park yet, we're trying to ease people into our existence first. Also, I know you all check on your love ones when the veil is thin, but please keep the things you shouldn't know out of the letters if possible. If you want your letter to be sent in the first batch, make sure to deliver your letter before the week ends."
Letters are a good way to reconnect people with the death, they aren't digital, and the GIW won't be able to intercept letters if they're send through inter-dimensional portals. Two birds in one shot.
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boxer au simon “ghost” riley
⁃ everyone is exiting a kickboxing class you show up doe eyed with your little matching set and a bag the same color. simon immediately crosses the gym before soap or gaz get a chance to.
⁃ “i think i have something you’ll like.” simon offers hesitantly, if any other tall masked stranger approached you like that you’d leave for the sake of self preservation. but he’s so hesitant in the way he offers looking above your head and not making direct eye contact. his shoulders are drawn together like he’s trying to make himself smaller.
⁃ he ducks behind the desk and pulls out some Everlast hand wraps in the same color as your clothes.
“your favorite color.” he says jokingly
“how’d you know?” you laugh and for the first time he looks you in the eye and something shifts in your chest.
“you’ve got good taste.” he quips
he’s extends his hand in front of yours and you’re so dazed, you just hold his hand. simon is already tipsy of your laugh he considers kissing it. he begins wrapping your hand and the realization makes you flush with embarrassment.
⁃ until he starts talking… he’s explaining how the wraps work and which gloves he recommends and your initial reaction shifts into annoyance. you want to fuck with him just a little bit, because who is he to explain anything to you? he probably doesn’t even work here and you’ve been kickboxing for the last two years.
the stress relief it gave after your last break up worked wonders.
⁃ “do you want to practice with me love?” he offers after he lingers on your wrist
you concede and slip under the bar of the ring. his eyes tell you everything. eager to be close to you he explains a hook and a jab, of course you nod and smile feigning ignorance as he tells you how he’ll explain the kicking afterward. you’re feeling a little triumphant when the false jab distracts him as you sweep him, he falls and makes a jagged hurt noise.
⁃ your playfulness turns to panic
“are you okay? i’m so sorry i didn’t mean to actually hurt you. i kind of expected you to grab my leg or move or laugh? i didn’t mean to—” you fall to your knees beside him worried he hit his head. he shifts on to his back leaning lazily on he’s elbows and he’s smiling at you. that little fucker. or huge fucker honestly, he’s so tall he’s practically scraping the celling.
⁃ “you’re such an asshole.”
“wounded my pride, worse than a physical injury honestly.” simon looks up at you cheekily
“how long have you been doing this? do you work here? why did you come up to me?”
simon wants to toy with you a little more. he loves your short temper paired with your softness it’s intriguing. you’re so sweet worrying about him, would you be like that at one of his matches? anxious fluttering around saying a hail mary he won’t get hurt? or would you bask in the stadium lights, proud that he belongs to you? he intends to find out immediately.
“well ‘m a professional love, a man’s got to eat someway. my trainer, price, doesn’t love when i frighten the clients, but you’re too pretty to avoid.” simon winks at you like his voice isn’t flirtation enough
“i’m not afraid of you.” you lean in front of him on the mat and he gets a long look at your tits when he meets your eyes again you’re aware of how public this display is. you scramble to you feet and extend a hand to help him up and simon doesn’t move.
“get up.” you command in a harsh whisper
he shakes his head shamelessly drinking in your figure.
“seriously, get up someone could come in here.” you urge extending to gently kick him and in a moment he’s pulling your ankle shifting to ensure you fall directly on top of him. he places a gentle hand on the small of your back, respectful almost hesitant.
“now we’re even.” he teases
he smells like mint a touch of lavender and something distinctly him. you want him to lower his hand even though you’re in public. you almost want to kiss him, but then he’d get the wrong idea about your intentions. you were supposed to be scouring the price for this gym across from your apartment nothing more. he probably does this with every pretty customer that walks through the doors. you push yourself up using his chest as leverage.
“we are not even, you tricked me!” you scoff
“then let me make it up to you let me buy you dinner.” he offers
you can’t date this stranger at the gym across from you apartment. you’d see each other again, after dating your co-worker you decided not mix buisness and pleasure. boxing is an essential part of your routine, it’s safe and consistent. he’s roguishly attractive and probably not staying in the country.
“no thanks, you’re something but y’know you’re not from around here. i want a serious relationship.” you know your honesty will scare him away and you’ll never speak again
“well if you get off me, i can get on my knees and propose” simon smirks
you realize that you’ve been leaning directly on top of his chest, not shifting or standing.
“it’s one knee.” you counter as you slide off him and stand up
“for you i’d beg.” simon admitted
the way he looks at you for a second you almost believe him.
“i’m sure you offer that to ever pretty girl who walks in here.”
simon is serious about the begging, he’d wait as long you wanted to have you underneath him. but someday soon the sweet sound of you whimpering his name would be fill the room. you’d be the one pleading for him just to put the tip in.
“come to my match tonight. if i win, you let me buy you dinner. our first real date.” simon promises
he’s such trouble and you want him despite it.
how many girls batting their eyelashes and love struck boys come to his matches longing to see him afterwards? one of them will surely take your place if you don’t attend.
“what if you lose?”
“i won’t.” simon drawls
“you think you’re that good?” you taunt
“i think you’re lucky.” simon breathed
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