#tag: ghost

[mxnsterbabe]

Male Ghost/Female Reader SFW Wordcount: 2,611 Commissions | Ko-fi | Masterlist Tags & Warnings: mentions of death, fires

You've always loved abandoned places, and photographing them. When you find a strange young man in all of your photos, you’re determined to find out what's going on.

You’ve always loved taking photos. One of your very first birthday presents as a kid was an old-fashioned camera, and you’ve been obsessed ever since. 

The old college was the object of your affection today. Its weathered bricks and rusted iron gates hinted at a past full of memories. Its story was a tragic one, marred by a devastating fire, and you were there to capture it.

As you stepped onto the moss-covered path leading to the college, you were wrapped in an almost tangible silence. You could hear the distant rustling of the wind, punctuated by a crow's call. The college stood tall, basking in the morning light that highlighted its aged beauty.

You aimed your camera at the entrance, a mix of harsh angles and soft shadows. The shutter clicked, and you felt a surge of satisfaction, having captured a fragment of history. You stepped inside, where scents of dampness, old books, and lingering darkroom chemicals mixed, and found your way to the photography room.

The remnants of burnt photos clung to the walls there, making the room feel like a tribute to the past. You noticed one photo in particular, a young lad's face frozen in time. The thought of his untimely death tugged at your heart. It seemed unfair that the school closed its doors after his loss, but now, through your lens, you would keep his memory alive.

You roamed the empty college, nature claiming it piece by piece. Ivy crept up the walls, dorms sat empty and quiet, and everywhere, there was an odd sense of stillness. Despite the eerie tranquillity, you couldn't help but admire the beauty in the decay.

Climbing a worn-out staircase, you reached the second floor, where the footprints of nature were even more pronounced. Sunlight filtered through cracked windows, casting an ethereal glow on the wildflowers sprouting from the tiled floor.

As dusk started to fall, you came upon a door down the corridor. Intrigue pulled you toward it, but as you stepped closer, a sudden flutter of wings sent your heart racing. Birds had made a home in the room, and their sudden departure left you startled.

With your heart still pounding, you glanced at the now empty room in the dim light. You couldn't help but wonder what other secrets the college held. Little did you know, one secret was already closely observing you. A presence, unseen yet deeply interested in your exploration.

With your heart still pounding from the sudden flutter of wings, you regained your composure and brought your camera back to focus. The room, now void of its avian inhabitants, offered a serene spectacle of fading sunlight dancing with the floating dust. You snapped a picture, preserving the scene of tranquil stillness.

Next, you knelt to capture the wildflowers that were stubbornly sprouting through the rotting wooden floor. These little bursts of colour, defiant in their surroundings, told a silent tale of life's relentless persistence. Their delicate beauty, juxtaposed against the stark decay, made for an enchanting sight.

As the sun began its descent, it cast a golden glow over the room. The college, bathed in the soft twilight, seemed ethereal, almost out of a dream. You took a few more photos, captivated by the contrast between the old and the new, the quiet stories etched into every brick and tile.

With the day slowly turning into night, you decided it was time to review your work. Finding an old, yet sturdy-looking chair, you sat down and started scrolling through the images on your camera.

Each photo seemed to narrate a different chapter of the college's past. The morning sun kissing the ivy on the entrance, the silence echoing in the empty dorm rooms, the charred photographs telling a tale of lost innocence, the resilient wildflowers adding their vibrant notes. All of it together painted a picture of the college’s past, its abandonment and its resilient beauty.

However, as you were perusing through your captures, something caught your eye. A vague outline of a figure, a young man, was visible in almost all the photos. It was faint, almost translucent, but undeniably present.

A moment of confusion swept over you. Could it have been a trespasser? The very thought seemed ridiculous. You were alone in the college, weren’t you? The deafening silence, the solitude, everything had felt so real.

Then, a sudden realisation dawned upon you. The outline, the posture, the boyish presence, it reminded you of the photograph you’d seen in the darkroom. The boy who had died in the fire. Could it really be him? A shiver ran down your spine at the thought. 

The silence around you became suffocating. The seemingly peaceful abandoned college no longer felt serene, not with the ghost of its past haunting your photographs. Your heart pounded in your chest, fear and fascination warring within you.

Your heart pounded in your chest as a gust of wind rattled the broken window pane, snapping you out of your reverie. Setting your camera aside, you made your way to the window, the ancient floorboards creaking under your weight. Looking outside, you found the once tranquil courtyard now caught in a whirling dance with the wind. The ivy leaves fluttered wildly against the stone walls and the dust rose in flurrying swirls from the worn-out pathways.

Then, in the midst of this whirlwind, you saw him. There, standing in the open courtyard, was the shadowy figure of the boy. This time he was not a vague silhouette in the corner of a photograph, but a nearly solid figure beneath the dimming light. He was distant yet distinct, ethereal yet so vividly present.

His form seemed to flicker, wavering between the lines of reality and illusion. One moment he appeared as solid as you and the next, he was but a wisp of smoke dissolving into the wind. Yet, during those brief instances of solidity, he seemed to be looking up at you. His gaze held a trace of melancholy that chilled your spine.

His figure stood in stark contrast to the bustling courtyard, a still presence amidst the chaos. His somber silhouette, coupled with the unruly dance of the wind, lent the scene an eerie, almost surreal quality.

And then, as quickly as he had appeared, he was gone, leaving only the wind howling in his wake. The courtyard was once again just an abandoned remnant of the college’s past, the spectral figure a fleeting memory.

Your heart hammered against your ribs, adrenaline coursing through your veins. The image of the ghostly figure, so vivid and yet so evanescent, was etched in your mind. The sorrow in his gaze haunted you, triggering a mix of fear and an unexpected sympathy.

Staring at the empty courtyard, you vowed to yourself that you would return. You needed to uncover the truth, to understand the story of the boy trapped between the realms of the living and the dead. The once simple photography project had turned into a quest that you were determined to see through.

***

Three days passed since your eerie encounter, and each day found you back at the abandoned college. Your camera was a constant companion, capturing scenes of nature's relentless reclamation and the college’s poignant decay. Yet, nothing out of the ordinary appeared in your photos. The spectral figure of the young man remained absent, and you found no traces of the hauntingly sad gaze you had seen.

Every click of the shutter echoed your growing disappointment. Had you imagined it all? Was the specter merely a figment of your overactive imagination, or somebody else who had snuck onto the grounds? It was hard to shake off the idea, especially when the only evidence you had were the inexplicable photographs from your first visit. They still showed the almost transparent figure of the young man, each one a silent testament to the uncanny experience you couldn't forget.

On the fourth day, you found yourself heading back to the college. It had become more of a habit, a daily routine. The excitement that had driven you before was replaced by a heavy sense of scepticism. You no longer expected to see the ghostly figure again.

You walked through the college grounds, capturing photos with a mechanical detachment. The courtyard, once the stage for the spectral apparition, was just a patch of worn-out grass and dancing shadows. You snapped a photo out of habit, not expecting anything out of the ordinary.

When you glanced down to review the photograph, your heart skipped a beat. There, in the photograph of the courtyard, was the familiar silhouette. The spectral figure had returned, as faint and elusive as before. This time, however, there was an undeniable presence about him. He seemed less like a trick of light and more like a lost soul, still bound to the world he had left two decades ago.

Standing in the middle of the empty courtyard, you took a deep breath and called out. Your voice echoed off the crumbling walls of the college, the words carried away by the gentle breeze. It was a desperate plea, an attempt to convince yourself that the ghostly figure was not a figment of your imagination. Perhaps, you reasoned, it was just an intruder, someone like you who was trespassing in the abandoned building.

But as you stared at the empty courtyard, you knew you didn't truly believe that. There was a part of you that yearned for the figure to be the ghostly apparition, the tragic spirit of the college's past. 

Minutes ticked by and your call was met with only silence. A sinking feeling started to gnaw at you, the feeling of disappointment tinged with relief. Just as you were about to accept the empty echoes as your answer, a figure materialised at the far end of the courtyard.

Your breath hitched in your throat as you recognised him. The spectral figure, the ghostly boy, was standing there, in broad daylight. Your heart pounded in your chest, its rhythmic thump amplifying the silence around you.

Despite his ethereal appearance, he seemed so normal. He was a young man, his dark, fluffy blonde hair tousled by the wind. His boyish face held an expression of wistful longing. But his figure, so clear one moment, would flicker the next, waver and ripple like an image on a static-ridden television screen. His ghostly form was an eerie reminder of the tragic past that tied him to the college, even in death.

A gasp escaped your lips as you watched him. Your camera dangled from your neck, forgotten for the moment. You were seeing him, really seeing him for the first time. Your heartbeat echoed in your ears as the reality of the situation settled in.

With a shaky breath, you stepped forward, your voice echoing in the eerie silence of the courtyard. "Who are you?" you called out, your question hanging in the air. He stood there, silent and still, his form flickering like an old film reel. His face held an expression of yearning, but he made no attempt to answer.

Undeterred, you continued, your voice growing bolder. "Why are you here? Why are you showing yourself to me?" The questions poured out, filling the emptiness of the courtyard, but the ghostly figure remained silent. His only response was an increasingly pained expression, a look of pure frustration. It was as though he wanted to answer but couldn't.

You watched him, a figure both present and absent, flickering between existence and oblivion. The sadness etched on his face resonated with you. It didn't seem like he was choosing not to respond. It was as if he couldn't. An unnerving thought dawned upon you. "Can you not speak?" You asked, your voice barely a whisper.

His figure flickered rapidly at your question, his form dissolving into a ripple of static before reassembling again. His gaze bore into yours, eyes filled with a profound sorrow. You felt a pang of empathy. Here was a spirit, forever trapped in the shell of his past, unable to communicate his story. 

Your heart ached at the one-sided conversation. It wasn't supposed to be like this. In every ghost story you had ever heard, the spirit had a voice, a way to convey its message. This ghost, this young man trapped in his spectral form, seemed devoid of that privilege. 

Emboldened by your resolve, you reached out towards him. To your surprise, he didn't recede but moved closer. His presence felt like a chill wind, tangible yet incorporeal. The odd paradox made you shudder, but your curiosity was stronger than your fear. 

You took a moment to study him, really take in his appearance. His boyish face was marked by an ethereal beauty, his skin oddly perfect. His dark, fluffy blonde hair was tousled by an unseen wind, giving him a somewhat carefree air that was at odds with the tragic circumstances of his existence. His eyes, however, held sadness. They were a pale blue that held your gaze, their depth revealing a hint of the life he once had, the life that was snatched away so abruptly.

Suddenly, his hand raised, fingers outstretched towards you. It was a ghostly hand, the skin translucent, shimmering in an almost ethereal light. He pointed towards your jacket pocket, his gaze following his gesture.

Puzzled, you reached into your pocket and pulled out the old photograph you had found. The one of the courtyard, where he first appeared to you. You were about to turn it around when something caught your eye. The back of the photograph held a faint inscription that you hadn't noticed before.

Theodore.

The name hit you like a wave, and you looked up at him, your eyes wide with surprise. "Theodore?" You questioned, your voice trembling with uncertainty. 

His form flickered for a moment before steadying, his gaze meeting yours. He nodded, and you found your answer.

In a leap of faith, you reached out to touch his extended hand. You half expected your fingers to pass through him, to feel the cold air instead of skin. To your surprise, your hand met his. For a brief moment, he was solid, as real as anyone alive.

His expression reflected your shock, his eyes wide with disbelief. Then, something wonderful happened. His eyes softened, a glimmer of joy dancing in their depths. The loneliness that had previously clung to him seemed to lift for that moment, replaced by a sense of relief. It made you wonder, how long had he been alone? How long since he'd felt any form of contact?

You held his hand, feeling an odd sense of warmth seep into your fingers. It was strange, touching a ghost, his skin warm but not quite real. 

The moment was fleeting. His form began to waver, his hand growing translucent under your touch. His solidity was fading, slipping away like sand through your fingers.

In those precious few seconds before he disappeared completely, you did something impulsive. You leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek. His form flickered at the contact, a silent gasp escaping him. He looked at you, surprise etched on his face. Before he could respond, you whispered a promise to him, your words carried by the wind, "I'll visit again, Theodore."

With that, he disappeared, his form dissolving into thin air, leaving only the echo of your promise and the memory of his presence. As you stood there in the empty courtyard, the weight of his touch still lingering on your skin, you knew that your promise was not an empty one. 

[if-kissofmidnight]

So how much of an adorable little menace is Ghost going to be when he realizes that his big sibling is trying to court his favorite ooman? Is he watching this from the sidelines with popcorn, is he trying to help get them together, is he mercilessly making fun of his big sibling or trying to embarrass them?

you know that video of the little girl who yanks her dad away from her mum by his beard…yeah that’s ghost to begin with. he doesn’t understand courting behaviour, so he’s like excuse me, that’s my parent jerk, get your own.

if hunter explained it, ghost would immediately turn into a menace. he’d interrupt them and take mc’s attention from hunter just to show he’s the favourite. however, if he was able to see that hunter was genuine and didn’t want to hurt mc, he would become their biggest supporter.

catch ghost just:

[thedivinetexts]

Ghost sharing you with the rest of the 141, simply because he honestly can't keep up with your sex drive. Ghost fucking loves you, but he isn't in the mood that often. It's a wonderful thing when he is — he always gets you sobbing from pleasure with his nice, thick cock and dirty words spilling from his mouth — but it just doesn't happen much. Between his chronic pain flaring up or his ptsd rearing its head he finds it a little difficult to want to fuck you as often as you'd like him to. He knows you're more insatiable than him and he feels guilty sometimes, not being able to keep up; even though you have never and would never complain about the infrequency of sex.

Takes a while for him to come to terms with it. Takes a bit longer for him to decide on what he thinks is the only suitable option; let his mates, the men he trusts with his life, have their way with you. Starting with the one he trusts most.

It's nerve-wracking the first time he lends you to Captain Price, some cynical part of him worried that you'll like it a bit too much and decide Ghost isn't worth sticking around for. Ghost shouldn't have been worried though — Price sends along a video of him fucking you, assumedly recorded just seconds before. The noises you make are loud and filthy. You're clearly cockdrunk and almost incomprehensible when you whine. But when Price growls the question in your ear, you don't hesitate.

"Tell us who you belong to, sweetheart, go on. Who owns you, darlin?"

"S-Simon!" You moan, nearly sobbing it out. Ghost's hand is on his clothed cock as he watches you cry and squirm. "Ah, 'm Simon's! Please, please, fuck, please!"

Price chuckles and the video cuts just as his hips speed up. A moment after Ghost is finished watching, a text pops up underneath it.

> Got yourself a good one.

[stars-obsession-pit]

“Mom, why do you think ghosts are intrinsically evil?”

“It’s what the science says, of course!”

“No, I mean like, what were the studies? What did they actually observe”

“Ohh, I get what you mean, Danny! Well across all reputable reports of encounters with the ghosts strong enough to matter, they’ve always attacked first and never responded to attempts at communication! There’s no reason for them to do that if they’re not evil!”

“Huh…”

…

Danny, learning about Ghost Speak and how humans can’t understand it: hmm.

Danny, learning that ghosts greet each other and bond by fighting: hmmm.

[crowleys-right-eyeball]

i lied abt only posting abt this situation once, i just saw this lovely person’s comment!! passing it on to tumblr 🫡

edit: SOMEONEE changed the password and ruined it for everybody :/ pls try this version instead!!

edit 2: WATCHER POSTED AN UPDATE

[moldycigarette]

this x simon “ghost” riley

cw!: praise, size kink, creampie, breeding kink, bulge, simon’s a nasty dog (and i tried to warn ya)

—————

simon never fails to remind you how much bigger he is than you.

you’re short? no problem, all those missing inches go to simon. oh wait you’re tall? whatever, he still towers over you.

are you chubby by society’s standards? just means there’s more for him to love. skinny? that’s okay too, he’s always down to eat whatever you can’t finish.

no matter what size or shape you are, it’s a guarantee that simon is still bigger than you. and he always manages to remind you of that in the bedroom.

his large hands around your waist, pounding into you with his thick cock. he obsesses over the bulge in your cute tummy from his size, practically drooling over the fact that he can’t even fit inside you’re pretty pussy all the way.

whether he’s fucking you doggy style or in a mating press, he will always tower over you. he makes sure you’re cum is on his fingers and his tongue alone before he shoves his meaty dick inside you; this man has the libido and stamina of a god.

“g’nna fuck this p’ssy so good, love. fill ya’ up to the brim,” he moans, his thrusts growing more erratic as he feels that familiar heat in his stomach.

you’re coming right along with him, seeing stars while he peppers kisses in your neck. “such a good girl f’r me, g’nna make the best mama.”

—————

um sorry didn’t mean to let out my inner whore

[egophiliac]

you know, I've been thinking about it, and there is actually one single scenario in which I would be okay with not getting a big ol' "Silver Vanrouge" out of Lilia.

(just kidding, I still need some "call me Silver, Mr. Vanrouge is my father" in my life, please don't let me down on this one Twst)

[ciderjacks]

dad issues

+

(I think they were all fundamentally affected by what they saw and just collectively decided not to share the upsetting details)

[icepopstar5105us]

“Hey. Uh, Johnny?” Danny said awkwardly, “What does it mean when one of the older ghosts calls you their favored and why does it freak people out?”

Johnny 13 gave the halfa a bewildered look, “Dude. Didn’t you listen to Death? At all?”

“Death?” Danny scrunched his face, “What do you mean? I don’t…”

“Wait.” Johnny straightened, “You’ve talked with Death, right? She explained-?”

Danny shook his head, confused, “Was I supposed to?”

“When you first died, she’s supposed to appear. She gives a whole spiel and then transfers a bunch of information.” Johnny frowned, “She did it for Plasmius, so it’s not a halfa thing.”

“Oh.” Danny looked down, “What if… What if someone died and came back a few times very quickly? Would that… Would that cause any problems?”

Johnny stilled, horrified, “Ok. Look, do you want to talk about your death? Because I’m not asking if you don’t, but...”

“I guess…” Danny said, “So you know that my parents made the portal, right?”

“Yeah.” Johnny said.

“They’d been trying to do it for a long time. Plasmius actually worked with them for a while back when they were in college. It’s why all of their tech is similar in design.” Danny explained, “They built the thing, plugged it in, turned it on… and nothing.”

“But it works now.” Johnny frowned.

“Yeah. It does.” Danny nodded, “But remember my friends? Sam and Tucker?”

“The edgy emo and the computer geek?”

“As Sam’s friend, I am obligated to inform you that she is goth not emo… but yes, those two.” Danny smiled sadly, “My mom and dad were upset. They left the house and Jazz was working her shift at a library. The whole house was empty and I was… you know. A normal teenager home alone.”

Johnny snorted at that, “Ah yes. A completely normal teenager

“Yeah, yeah. The point is, the first thing I did after being left home alone was call my friends over.” Danny rolled his eyes, “Told them what happened and… It was Sam who suggested we go down there first — she’s always been into ghost and occult stuff — and look around. Tucker was down, because it was tech even if we didn’t think most of the tech would work. He wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity to mess around with it. Jazz had given me some lectures on lab safety — my parents don’t usually follow it themselves — and I had a bad feeling so I put on the Hazmat suit.”

“That’s not a superhero costume you came up with?” Johnny asked, eyes widening.

“No, um. It’s a hazmat suit. The only way I changed my form was the insignia and even then that was Sam’s idea.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, but um….” Danny paused, “We wound up standing outside the portal. It wasn’t working or anything, but there was a big spooky metal hole in the wall. You know, the kind of thing you’d expect in sci-fi movies. Sam dared me to go in and I was nervous. That bad feeling just intensified, but again — fourteen. I wasn’t being smart about it. So… I went into it. I kept going and it was dark. I was turning back when I tripped and I flailed. Accidentally hit some button that was on the side and it turned on.”

Johnny took a sharp breath.

“And um. Did you know that the portal takes a lot of electricity to start up?” Danny joked weakly, “Took three blocks worth. Um, lots of ectoplasm, too — from both the zone and the artificial stuff my parents use.” He shuffled, “So um, turns out both those things can revive and kill people. So I just kind of — died and revived a lot until it turned on and basically spat me out into the lab.

“That’s - Kid…”

“So um, maybe since I was dying and reviving so much death didn’t have a chance to fill me in? Honestly, would have like the heads up.” Danny said sheepishly, “I didn’t even understand what had happened until ghosts started coming through the portal.”

“Seriously?”

Danny shrugged, “I mean, I kind of suspected. I was falling through floors. It was hard to ignore, but I didn’t know - My parents are good inventors, but not the best scientists and it made things hard to figure out.”

“What? You bought that whole non-sentient BS?”

“No.” Danny shook his head, “I just didn’t buy any of it — and I mean none of it. I wanted nothing to do with the whole thing. The whole town thought my parents were crazy, they were always in the lab working, and I only ever saw them briefly once or twice a day. Don’t get me wrong. They’re still my parents and I love them, but… they have two big priorities. Their work and their kids. Their work is just… a higher priority to them.”

“Oh.” Johnny cringed, “Oh. Kid…”

“So yeah. Life sucks. Death sucks… but I really need to know what to do and why Ember is freaking out over me being called ‘favored one’.”

“Uh, right.” Johnny paused, “Well, it’s like old ghost language. Um. Basically, it’s like being called a really, really close friend or adopted family. Kind of like… ‘hey, this is my person that I love and protect’. It’s platonic unless they specify otherwise.”

“Huh, okay.” Danny blinked, “That makes sense, but why would Ember freak out?”

“Well… who called you that?”

“Oh! Clockwork and Pandora call me that when I visit.”

Johnny blanched, “What?”

“And now you’re freaking out, too.”

“You’ve been just- Kid! Are you just casually talking to them?”

“Um, yeah? They said it was okay?”

“Do you know nothing about the hierarchy of the- Wait. No. You didn’t get to talk to Death. Of course you don’t-“ Johnny sighed — covering his eyes, “Okay, so do you know what the ancients are?”

“I thought that was just a saying.”

“No, it’s not-” Johnny pinched the bridge of his nose, “The Ancients are the most powerful spirits in the Zone. They’re ghosts, but they resemble ideals more than they do a person most of the time. Practically gods. The ancients are Undergrowth, Frostbite, Nocturne, Pandora, Clockwork, Vortex, and Pariah Dark. Thing is… where most ghosts plateau at a certain power level the ancients can just keep growing in power. Clockwork is one of the strongest — so strong, the Observants bound him to their will.”

“Yeah, I heard about that, but he’s really nice, you know.” Danny smiled, “And he makes really good cookies really fast.”

Johnny stared at Danny for a long moment, “Danny. Do you not hear yourself right now? He’s basically the god of time.”

“Yeah, but if he didn’t want me to visit, I wouldn’t be able to find him.” Danny shrugged, “So he told me if I can see the clocktower, I’m welcome to come in.”

“Kid…”

“Besides. I’m friends with half of those guys and they’re cool.”

“Wha- How many ancients do you know?”

“Um… All the ones you just listed? I’m friends with Frostbite, Pandora, and Clockwork. I fought Undergrowth, Vortex and Nocturne before, but Nocturne likes me now. Um, Undergrowth doesn’t like me, though. Loves Sam, though… Um, obviously I know who Pariah Dark is after the whole thing in Amity-“

Johnny stilled, “Wait a minute… Kid. I need you to answer me honestly here… Did Pariah ever mention a challenge when you fought him?”

“Well, um. I guess? He was all formal speak, though, so…”

“Kid.” Johnny said very slowly, “Did he ever issue a challenge or accept a challenge from you?”

“… Um. He did say that he accepted my challenge or something, but wasn���t that just fight-talk or…”

“I think I get it now.” Johnny sighed, facepalming, “Just… maybe don’t tell people about this and consider asking one of the ancients allies you have about what Pariah accepting your challenge means for you.”

“For me? What-“

“Just… give it some thought.” Johnny paused, “And- Well, I can talk to Ember for you, yeah?”

“Thanks.”

—

Danny curled up on a sofa as Pandora embraced him with three arms and ran her fourth hand through his hair.

“Pandora.” Danny said softly, “Some of my friends say you, Frostbite, and Clockwork are ancients.”

“They are correct.”

“I didn’t know what ancients were.”

“I noticed.” Pandora laughed a bit, “But you’re a sweet child. You helped me get my box back and did not demand my favor. Perhaps it was selfish not to tell you, but I didn’t want to distress you. You are a kind and humble soul. Is it such a surprise I wish to continue seeing you?”

“You thought I would stop if I did?” Danny asked, confused, “I mean, sure my other friends were shaken up by it, but they don’t know you. Why would I be afraid when you’re so nice?”

Pandora blinked and then smiled warmly — a little laugh pulling from her throat. Oh, the innocence of such a young spirit, “Why, indeed? I suppose I didn’t give you or myself enough credit, did I?”

Danny shrugged, “I don’t have room to judge people for being different anyway. I’m a halfa. Pretty sure that’s even rarer than being an Ancient, right?”

“I suppose that is true.” Pandora smiled, “There are only a few halfas and none are quite like you. There will only ever be one of you.”

“Does this have something to do with why I never got to meet death?” Danny asked, confused, “That’s the only thing I can find that seems all that different-“

“In a way… Yes, but there are many more differences. The main one is that you powers have grown beyond Vlad Masters and they continue to do so.” Pandora said, “You are what we call a ‘Juna Potenco’. Most realms will never have heard of such things, but us ancients do not forget and when faced with a gift like yourself… well, you’ll only see more of us with time.”

“What does that mean? Is it bad?”

“No, no. It is a gift, not a punishment.” Pandora promised, “You are an inspiring soul, favored one, and it seems the realms themselves have seen that.”

“That doesn’t sound right.” Danny pulled away and sat up as he shook his head, “I’m a halfa, but that’s what I am. It doesn’t say anything about who I am. There isn’t anything special about who I am.”

“Everyone else disagrees with that last statement.” Pandora shook her head, “But I will let you in on the secret.”

“Yeah?”

“These are not due to your half spirit nature, but something truly special.” Pandora cupped his cheek, “Danny, do you truly wish to know? As amazing as this is, I am not sure you will be ready for the truth just yet.”

“I’m - I’ve been debating what colleges to apply for, but… I don’t know if any of them will take me now with my grades. I still look fourteen — fifteen at the oldest… and I still feel fourteen.” Danny looked at Pandora with pleading eyes, “So if this would impact my future, I think I’d like to know. Before things get complicated.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

Suddenly, everything froze.

Danny looked up to see Clockwork putting a medallion on Pandora while Frostbite gave him a smile.

“I presume you’re here to assist in informing him?” Pandora asked.

“Indeed.” Frostbite nodded.

“Informing me of what?” Danny asked, confused.

“When you went to face Pariah Dark, you stated your intention to fight him.” Clockwork said, “And he accepted your challenge. You fought in single combat, removed the Crown of Fire from his head, and then managed to get him into the Sarcophagus of Forever Sleep.”

“Vlad-“

“Plasmius might have locked the Sarcophagus, but you have repeatedly bested him and even when he has gotten the best of you, it has not been in single combat. However, Plasmius at one point claimed your fight was a ‘fun challenge’. You agreed — officially accepting it as such. When you defeated him, he lost any fragile claim to the throne.”

“Claim to the- Wait. What are you saying?” Danny glanced between them, “What? No. No… you have to be kidding me. I’m just me. I was trying to help, not-“

“Child, your soul was always going to be tied to the zone one way or another.” Pandora said, “Mortality is already a fragile thing, but someone so surrounded by ectoplasm at a young age all while experiencing the struggles you did with your parents absence… it was inevitable that you would be a powerful ghost.”

“But, then, Great One.” Frostbite continued, “You stood fully emerged in the space between worlds and thought of protection and forgiveness — mercy. You did not even consider vengeance or desires of your own. Only the wellbeing of others. It is an act of great sacrifice and not one many can complete so fully.”

“To put it simply, Danny.” Pandora said, “You’re one of us, Juna Protenco. New and young power that will grow infinitely. Though you are far from ancient, you will be with time.”

“An ancient to be.” Danny said distantly.

“The Ancient of Protection, Space, Mercy, and Matter.” Clockwork turned into his newborn form, “The best candidate for king we’ve had in a long time. Though, perhaps I am a bit biased.”

“Does it have something to do with space-time?” Danny guessed, “Because Matter, Time, and Space…”

“Correct.” Clockwork smirked, “Matter tells spacetime how to curve, and curved spacetime tells matter how to move. I guide you and you make changes that I will use to guide you again.”

Dannu blinked, “Oh. I get it.”

“You do?” Pandora blinked.

“That’s domains for you.” Frostbite chuckled and then quickly explained when Danny gave him a confused look, “We all innately understand our domains and their meanings. My domain is progression, society, and advancement.”

“Mine is responsibility, hope, protection, and perseverance.” Pandora revealed.

“Indeed.” Clockwork transformed into the middle aged man again, “But now that you know of your future, we must prepare.” He put his hand on Danny’s shoulder, “Your coronation must happen by the time you turn eighteen. As Ghost King, you will need to learn some diplomatic skills. We will teach you while you finish your human schooling.” Clockwork promised, “You can tell your parents the truth or you can say you are simply leaving for college, but Maddie and Jack Fenton cannot move to the Zone with you. Your sister is welcome. Your friends are welcome, but unfortunately…”

“I understand.” Danny lowered his head, “I don’t think I’ll tell them just yet. Maybe I’ll leave a note or a video, but…”

Clockwork’s eyes glazed over briefly — clearly checking the timeline.

“That is a good idea.” Clockwork nodded.

“Okay.” Danny swallowed, “I can’t -”

“No.” Clockwork said, “Honored as these two would be, they have their duties and people. They cannot. I am both bound by the Observants and a little too prone to acts of selfishness. It is too much power for me. No. It must be you.”

“You’re not selfish. You helped me.” Danny tilted his head, confused.

Clockwork chuckled guiltily as Pandora made a face and Frostbite shifted awkwardly.

“There is a reason people fear me, Danny.” Clockwork seemed more amused than anything by the sudden awkwardness, “I appreciate your trust in me, but I was not so good or kind in life. I hold domain over regret and retribution as well as time. It is a position I earned after giving and getting both in equal measure. I am not a protective spirit by nature. I am one that seeks justice and sometimes revenge.”

“I don’t get it.” Danny frowned, confused.

“Soon, you will.” Clockwork said grimly, “But for now… Trust me when I say all is as it should be.”

“Okay.” Danny said, “I trust you.”

“Now, time in.” Clockwork said. When Danny tried to give him the medallion he shook his head, “No, hold onto it. I believe it goes without saying, but do not lose it.”

“I know. I won’t.” Danny promised.

“Good, now… I believe you have some friends to talk to?”

“Er, right!” Danny said and rushed off.

“He doesn’t know who you are?” Frostbite turned to Clockwork, “And you haven’t told him?”

“… He’ll learn during his studies.” Clockwork admitted begrudgingly, “And it’s best that he come to me after he processes the information than during.”

“Just remember, Kronos.” Pandora glared as she handed over her medallion, “One wrong move-“

“Yes, yes, I am very aware of your opinions of me, Keeper of Hope.” Clockwork held a hand to Frostbite, “Shall I take you back to your people?”

“Er, yes.”

“Good, then-“

“Hey! I was not finished-“

“TIME OUT!”

Pandora sighed as they disappeared, “Ugh. He is always such a petty menace. One of these days…”

[1001aus]

AU where Danny has spent a very long time in the Infinite Realms for one reason or another (time travel work for Clockwork, Ghost King business, fled Earth for some reason, decided he didn't jive with living under capitalism, realized he wasn't aging, whatever).

On his first trip out to the living world where he actually interacts with living people, he drops into a reality where the Justice League exists and gets curious about the Watchtower. It's definitely Earth technology, but it's way different than anything he's seen them build before. How cool! He has to check it out.

He gets intercepted. Danny's first introduction to the Justice League is Green Lantern, Superman, and Martian Manhunter. They're friendly enough when they realize he's just curious.

In the course of talking, his abilities come up. Danny talks about his ice and the time powers Clockwork started teaching him after AGIT.

Then one of them says something along the lines of "and you can fly."

Danny gives them a weird look.

"...and I can walk?"

Which is about the moment that they realize that, not only has Danny assumed that flight is normal for them (since all of the people he's met since showing up are capable of it), but he could have any number of abilities that he considers not worth mentioning.

[daftpatience]

tradesies

[if-kissofmidnight]

demo preview - ghost + mc

you take a deep breath and force yourself to manoeuvre to your feet in one swift movement. thankfully, ghost is keeping still on your back, making small clicking noises of what you've come to understand as encouragement. you grunt under his weight, but just about manage to stand up straight...for all of about ten seconds. it's only jen and mainza's quick reflexes that stop you from falling backwards straight onto poor ghost. the two of them steady you, but it's clear that you aren't going to be able to carry him like this.

you swallow your disappointment, twist your head back to look at him and shake your head. ghost makes a sad sounding noise that only heightens your guilt, but he quickly slides off your back, "i'm sorry, $gnickname."

you wonder if he can sense your guilt because the next moment, he's reaching out his hand towards yours, touching it lightly before looking up at you with widened eyes. you smile, knowing that he's trying to emulate hyun's puppy dog eyes again, but unfortunately, it only succeeds in giving him the scary bird eyes. you still do as he requests though, so weak to your kid, and take his hand in yours.

[oshikiri-toru]

Thinking about streamer/YouTuber/etc Soap and boyfriend Ghost who is always in the background, but not in the way you think.

Ghost thinks it's funny as fuck to stand in the closet, door just slightly cracked, and stare at the camera while Soap is doing something. When Soap leaves to go to the bathroom, Ghost is standing ominously in the corner only to disappear once Soap stands in front of the camera to sit down. Soap vlogging/going live, walking around the city or something, and keeps turning the camera to see Ghost sitting at a table staring or hiding in an alley. He's always just in frame, always staring with his balaclava on, but never speaks, maybe even refuses to blink.

Soap's fans are terrified. It doesn't happen every stream/video, but just enough to gain attention. People are constantly asking about it; they type all concerned in the chat, only for Soap to insist he doesn't see anything. He'll check the place everyone told him to go just for Ghost to have disappeared. It gets so big that people are watching him just to find Ghost like a fucked up game of Where's Waldo. Some people take it more seriously, asking him to move because he has a stalker or telling him to bring in an exorcist.

Of course, Soap always tells them they're idiots and continues as normal. Behind the scenes, he's laughing his ass off because everyone thinks his boyfriend is actually a ghost haunting him. Ghost loves it because he likes feeling like a cryptid for Soap's online fans and gets to establish himself in Soap's life without needing to really make himself known.

One day a photo gets leaked (maybe by them, maybe not) of Ghost being normal with Soap, the two of them smiling with their arms around each other, maybe even a wedding photo, and people go nuts. Soap just refused to acknowledge his weird ass boyfriend in the back of his videos for years, like the chaotic asshole he is.

[reborn-from-taxes]

The city mayor(?) is so lucky...

[kyletogaz]

thinking about your “wi-fi technician” simon riley, who was only supposed to be installing the wi-fi in your new apartment, but somehow he ends up doing more than that :(

you’re not even sure how things ended up like this in the first place.

all you did was offer this man something to drink, but he decided he’d rather eat your pussy from the back instead. simon had you bent over your kitchen table while he sat in a chair behind you with his tongue buried in your drooling hole. he kept you pinned down on the table until he had your legs shaking.

and when you asked simon to take a look at a loose wire in your bedroom, you didn’t expect to end up in bed with your pussy stuffed full of his fat cock.

“please,” you whine, not even sure what it is that you’re asking for. for him to release you? or for him to make you cum again.

“please what, baby?” simon groans at the sight of his glistening cock pistoning in and out of your pussy while he has your asscheeks spread apart.

you let out a choked noise when simon pulls back to spit on your puckered hole, your body jerking slightly when you feel his thumb slip in. he pauses momentarily to run a soothing hand down the length of your back. he only starts thrusting again when you go limp, chuckling at the wail you let out when he pulls out, then slams back into your sopping wet pussy, almost knocking you off your knees.

“simon!” your fingers grip the sheets for dear life. simon’s cock is hitting your g-spot repeatedly and it’s starting to become too much.

“thas’ right, baby. say my name, wanna hear you fuckin’ screaming it,” he snarls, sounding like a goddamn beast, before tightening his grip on your hips and tugging you back and forth on his cock.

all you can do is moan and wail into the sheets while you let your wi-fi technician fuck you six ways to sunday, as you listen to him mutter about how your pussy was made for him and him alone. you swear you hear him say that he’ll kill the next man who touches you. you’re not given much time to think about it, because simon wants you on your back.

“need to see that pretty face of yours when i make you cum on my cock again,” he croons with a roll of his hips, laughing at the way you toss your head to the side at his words. “don’t be embarrassed, sweet thing.”

“i’m not,” you hiss at him, before moaning and arching up off the bed when his thick fingers start toying with your puffy clit.

simon is so determined to rub your clit raw, you have to grab his wrist and tell him to slow down.

“move your hand,” he barks, before shaking your hand off his wrist himself, and going back to rubbing your sensitive bud.

you’re writhing and clawing at the sheets when you cum with a choked cry, your pussy fluttering while simon continues to drive his cock in and out of you. you notice he’s close when his thrusts are becoming sloppy and frantic.

“gonna make a mess of this pussy,” simon promises, before his hips start to stutter and he’s flooding your walls with thick ropes of cum with a look of pure bliss on his face.

and simon doesn’t stop cumming either. it’s never ending. you can feel it leaking out of you while his cock continues to pulse inside your spongy walls.

when he’s collected himself, simon rolls off of you and redresses, not even bothering to accept your offer for a shower before he leaves. he does not care that his cock is still slick with cum and pussy juice. for a brief moment, he thinks about making you get on your knees to clean his cock off with your mouth, but he relents.

you simply shrug and walk him to the door. and before he leaves, simon slaps you on your ass and shoves his tongue in your mouth. you have to fight a whimper, when he pulls away and tells you that he’ll be seeing you soon.

a little while after simon is gone, there’s a knock at your door. when you go to answer it, it’s a man telling you that he’s there to set up your wi-fi. you sputter a little bit, before telling him that your wi-fi technician had already came by. the man simply looks at you like you’re crazy, before he pulls out his phone and shows you the appointment confirmation, time, and his name. you don’t see simon’s name anywhere in the details he’s presented to you.

you stare at him for a moment, suddenly feeling faint, before you blurt out the only words that come to mind.

“what the fuck!?”

-

a/n: simon lives down the hall from you. when he saw you, he knew he had to have you one way or another. i’m not saying he broke into your house one day and installed mics to hear your conversations, but how else could he have known about the wi-fi :)

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