#lost ghost

[kumorishouhei]

For @lostghostinspace 🖤❤️⚖️✨️🔥

Love~ (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)🫶

[laplacesdevil]

(In order, top to bottom, left to right: Toast Ghost uses he/him + masc terms, Lost Ghost uses he/she + masc n fem terms, Itazura Ghost uses they/she + fem n neu terms, Jerry uses he/him + masc terms, and Nu uses he/they + any terms)

Technically he's as cis as a spectral can be, but I forgive him

[marypsue]

Keep seeing that post where OP starts like 'Thinking about...grieving the undead' and then adds on about like. Real life situations where people have not died but have left your life and you would have reason to grieve them.

All respect, that's an important concept, but that is not what I am thinking about when I read 'grieving the undead'.

[sigh-tofm]

when they come home drunk…

… price

- thinks it’s important that he loudly tells you he’s married while you steady him upstairs to bed. points to his ring incessantly, slurs on and on about his perfect wonderful wife with the big ass and soft tummy. you roll your eyes and can’t help but smile when he doesn’t let you hold on to his arm to support him. something about protecting his virtue for his wife, as if you’re not standing right beside him. proceeds to lock you out of your own bedroom when you finally get upstairs, telling you his wife will be home soon so he can’t have a strange woman in their bedroom (but still remarks on your wonderful ass). you decide it’s too early in the morning to persuade your drunk husband to let you in, so you go down to sleep on the couch. you wake up with price sleeping soundly on the floor beside you, having gone to find his wife when she never showed up in his bed the night before.

… kyle

- gets sappy and apologises for being away. loses all concept of time when he’s drunk, says he’s sorry, he didn’t mean to be away so long, he was thinking of you the whole time, the guys pulled him along and he couldn’t say no. while he’s on his knees at your feet, pressing his face to your thighs and mumbling into your marbled skin, almost making you lose your balance with his fervent apologies, you gently remind him that you were the one who made him go out with the boys because he needed to unwind after a stressful weekend of combat drills, and that he had left with them less than two hours ago. he refuses to hear and only hugs your thighs closer, so much so that you have to support yourself on the wall. turns out all he needed to relax was you.

… johnny

- is horny. almost starts drooling when he eyes you at the top of the stairs, after struggling to close the entrance door for a good minute, causing you to investigate what made all the noise. gets a wild look in his eyes when he sees you in just his t-shirt and makes you scream and giggle as he chases you back up the stairs and to the bedroom. being absolutely shitfaced, he has the coordination of a tranquillised moose and stumbles head over heels across the floor, catches his foot on the doorway and narrowly misses the edge of the dresser with his head as he falls. still, his little soldier is courageously tenting his pants when you worriedly lean over him and he gets a good look right into the collar of your shirt.

… simon

- is emotional and clingy. can’t get enough of you, won’t leave you alone. you can’t make out half his words when he’s had this much to drink (and the mancunian in him breaks out too, making it ever harder to make out the words), but you play along, smile and nod and let him sit on the closed toilet seat and talk and talk while you do your night routine in front of the mirror. so lucky to have you, luv. how could’a lug like me get a pretty one like you, luv. his melancholy statements of love become comfortable background noise for you as you remove your makeup and apply moisturiser. lets you wash the sweat and grime of the day off his face with a washcloth, closes his eyes while you massage your floral-scented moisturiser into his skin, never once stopping his little speech. ambles after you out of the bathroom, holding on to the hem of your shirt, when you’re all finished and ready for bed. his devoted mutters only let up when be falls asleep next to you.

[batsandbirdsandothers]

What would ghost jasons reaction be to tim getting so sick?

Unhinged.

[armacheart]

Pov: run and hope he wont find you later

[louhinks]

And that's alright

[turnaboutfix]

An Ace Attorney Christmas Carol

[stars-obsession-pit]

…Dannny Phantom fics often talk about Amity being chill with ghosts and whatnot, yet I don’t think I’ve ever really seen the logical conclusion of that:

Dying but just… keeping going.

A kid at Casper High dies in an accident and comes back in for class a few days later. Moves the memorial off their desk to make room for their notebook.

An elderly book club member shows up to the new meeting semi-transparent. They laugh off any concern with something along the lines of “At least my back pain’s gone!”

Someone calls in to their job like, “Hey, uh, I died. Does… does that mean I get the day off?”

No one quite knows how to react. Phantom shows up the first few times to ask if everything’s alright, but then starts to leave them be.

It’s… fine?

At first, people very carefully walk on eggshells around the topic of death, but it gradually fades into the background. People just treat it as a new rule of polite conversation. The world goes on. It’s still just Amity Park, the most haunted city in America.

They’ll have to address it eventually, they know. It’s far too big not to. But for the moment, things just keep going as they were.

[simonbrain]

cw omegaverse, noncon touching, neglected!reader

you're slowly convincing yourself that your pack is trying to get rid of you. they've been acting off around you for weeks, and you aren't sure why you've been pushed to the side.

john snaps at you more often now, even during downtime when you're seeking comfort from your head alpha. the soft look he usually directs at you has been replaced by a scowl, and you're not sure if it's from the tedious amount of work and stress that weighs on his shoulders or if it's because you pop into his office every few hours to check on him. maybe you're just making it worse for him—you don't miss the way his face scrunches up whenever you appear in his doorway—so you visit him less often. hopefully he'll appreciate it if you take your sad, sour scent somewhere else.

which leads you to simon, who doesn't seem to notice you at all, not until you approach him first, and then you regret your actions when he greets you with nothing more than a grunt. there's that distant, eerie look in his eyes as he impatiently stares down at you, cocking his head to the side as your words get caught up in your throat. he's been easier to aggravate lately, and unfortunately his irritation doesn't evade you. you can't remember the last time you saw him this guarded around you—maybe when you first joined, although it wasn't this bad—but it still stings nonetheless.

"spit it out, peanut. i don't 'ave all day." your silly callsign rolls off his tongue less affectionately than usual, and you try to scrape up a reason to talk to him, as if being his mate isn't enough. when you finally ask if he's seen the other sergeants, he only scoffs and shakes his head, stalking right past you.

the blatant disregard from both your alphas has your chest aching uncomfortably and your throat winding up tight, but you walk off to somewhere else, wanting to find some dark corner so you can cry all of your frustration out.

you know you should be happy when you bump into your other two mates, grateful even. johnny crowds your front while kyle embraces you from behind, the two of them cooing at your weepy state and promising to make it all better.

but their touches are rougher than you want them to be, and kyle's grinding on you with more hunger than you can handle right now, and johnny's nosing down your neck, whispering promises of turning you pliant and brainless in a second, and you're growing more stressed each time they paw at your body as if you're just their little fuck doll—

you wrestle out of their grip and shove them both away before storming off to your room, leaving the two of them to simmer in the remnants of your stressed and upset scent, the sourness of it hitting them both at the same time. whatever heat they were feeling before is replaced with alarm, and when they try to follow you, you slam the door in their faces, choked-up sobs leaving your mouth as you slump down on your bed.

no one checks up on you that evening—not to apologise, not to see if you're okay, not even to ask if you're hungry. the smell of a distressed omega seeps out of the cracks of your door and wafts around your room, but no one comes. they must really not want you, then.

you tell yourself you're too needy. you're a strain on your alphas, always demanding their attention. you feel like an embarrassment compared to johnny, who, despite being another young omega, can get by with a simple pat on the shoulder, purring away in satisfaction. you're not levelheaded like kyle, or grounding like simon. obviously, if you were, your alphas would be all over you.

the nasty thoughts haunt your mind until you're quietly getting out of bed and walking down to john's office. you know you smell pathetic, but you keep your head down as you walk past other soldiers, who are no doubt pitying you right now.

still, you keep on walking. you need to tell john to break the bond, to rid the pack of you. it needs to be done, even as your heart squeezes painfully and you're close to letting out a sob.

you don't bother knocking, but when you walk in to the sight of kyle sitting on john's lap while simon and johnny stand on either side of their captain as they converse among themselves, you wish a hole in the ground would just swallow you up already.

john notices you first, but you don't catch the way his gaze softens at the sight of your weak state. you know that they all can smell the distress on you, but you try to steady your voice and wipe the tears that are beginning to form again.

"i want to break the bond."

four pairs of eyes zero in on you, and despite the tension in the room and the seriousness of your words, despite your anger and hurt, you can't help but relax slightly as the anxiety gradually melts away. finally, they're paying attention to you.

[pippynsworld]

can't get enough of biker!ghost

[chibi-scone]

"Skeletá doesn't sound like Ghost" it's literally an album about the beauty of life and death and also demons and vampires fucking nasty, get real.

[emacrow]

A lost kryptonian founded.

Superman was just taking a break out of the Fortress of solitude after a couple of training to defend himself against kryptonite in case of another fight against Lethor.

Clark watched the Icy landscape in silence. It was quiet as the sky was dark, with only the tiny sound of a dangerously slow beating of a drum or a heart right underneath the ice..

Clark immediately went into Superman mode, driving right into the very glacier of frozen ice, only to nearly crash into a body in some large tunnel hole large enough to fit an adult.

It was a boy, a preteen at most curled up in a ball hugging himself with black and white hair that had a frost covered half of a crown on his head, eyes closed as If asleep with frozen tears stuck to his face like icicles, wearing a kryptonian suit with the initials rip on his chest.

Superman didn't think much or twice as he grabbed the boy carefully, diving out the hole he made from the Icy grounds.

The boy was ice cold, much colder then space itself if it weren't for the icy breath.

He dove back to the Fortress of Solitude in a tiny bit of panic, not to think at all as the Fortress's voice of Lara spoke out with a hologram.

"DNA Recognition, distant cousin once removed, Emergency Defense security disarmed."

Her eyes flickered a bit as if a message was being played, her face look a bit worried and hopeful.

"Oh, child of my beloved brother, Jac-al, if you have survived long enough under the eccentric of my brother and found the Fortress of Solitude. I hope you that you didn't inherit my brother eccentric antic to malfunction everything he built without forgetting to check if they are faulty."

[ghostbeam]

x reader defender till I die people are out here figuring out how to write the most fully fleshed out most interesting readers ever with backstory and personality while maintaining a relatability that is so true to life it's like im looking in a mirror and ur gonna look at me and say that it's a lesser form of fanfic

[gildui]

bounty hunter ghost on his rare day around the ranch

[zhelin-thames]

The Realms React To: The Batkids Trying to Babysit De-Aged Danny

(aka “This Child Has More Power Than God and Knows It”)

Bruce: He’s two. How bad could it be?

Alfred: Master Wayne, he levitated the salt shaker and tried to crown himself “Snack King of Gotham.”

Dick: That’s adorable. I love him. He’s mine now.

Barbara: I left the room for three minutes and he hacked my comms with a crayon drawing.

Tim: I blinked and he disappeared. I blinked. There was eye contact.

Jason: He looked me dead in the eyes, called me “Angry Boom Boom Man,” and then turned intangible through a locked fridge.

Steph: I tried to distract him with a stuffed animal and he bit it and said, “This is my child now.”

Cass: He high-fived me, then phased through the floor while giggling. I’m both proud and terrified.

Duke: He used his glowing green eyes to convince a Roomba to follow him like a tiny mechanical minion. It keeps bringing him juice boxes. I don’t own juice boxes.

Damian: He looked me in the face, summoned a ghost snake, and asked, “Do you bite?” I said yes. He gave the snake my sword and said, “Good. Protect me from him.” I’ve never been so betrayed.

Danny (age 2, wearing a towel like a cape, floating): “I am Phantom, ruler of snacks and cartoons. Fear me.”

Jason: I gave him a toy gun. He turned it into an ectoplasmic cannon. I’m not mad, I’m impressed.

Dick: He just phased into the laundry basket and declared it his throne. That’s a bold leadership move.

Tim: We tried to put him down for a nap. He astral projected and started reorganizing our security protocols. While asleep.

Barbara: He reset my firewalls using finger paint.

Steph: He found my glitter stash. Everything he touches sparkles. I’m still sparkling. I haven’t touched him in two hours.

Cass: He threw a Cheerio at Damian and said, “This is your battle token. Win for my honor.” Damian accepted it.

Damian: I have never been so loyal to a warlord. I will kill for him.

Bruce: He’s two.

Danny (holding Alfred’s ancient cane like a scepter): “I’m older than you.”

Alfred (smiling fondly): He’s not wrong, Master Wayne.

Jason: He called me “Uncle Shoot Bang.” I’ve never felt so seen.

Duke: He asked if the sun sleeps. When I said no, he frowned and whispered, “I will fix that.”

Dick: I taught him how to do a somersault. He teleported halfway through it and said, “Shortcut.” My back hurts from laughing.

Tim: He made eye contact and the lights flickered. That’s not normal.

Barbara: I asked if he wanted a bedtime story. He summoned a ghost librarian who told me to use a better tone.

Cass: He hugged me. I felt peace. Then he made the couch float just a little. Just enough to flex.

Danny (cheerfully, riding the Roomba into the living room like a war chariot): “BEHOLD. I RISE.”

Everyone:

Everyone: beholding

Bruce: …So we’re keeping him, right?

Jason: Obviously.

Damian: He’s our tiny war general now.

Alfred: I’ll make extra cookies.

Danny (covered in stickers, glowing faintly): “I’m baby.”

Lights flicker. The Realms rumble approvingly.