#ghostly shenanigans

[deadsetobsessions]

Summonings

Ever since Danny Phantom became the Ghost King, he’s had to deal with an endless amount of crap. An eternity of it, actually, and it was constantly causing him unending amount of existential crises and stress.

First, there was the paperwork. Pariah Dark, the incompetent asshole, had left him decades worth of bureaucracy to painfully sift through. He ended up hiring some ghosts with paperwork obsessions to sort some of that out. Who knew ruling the infinite realms would require this much paperwork? He’s lucky each section of the underworld had their own systems to report to their own rulers who, in turn, report to him.

Secondly, there were the Observers. And other ghosts, like his own rogues, but they were the main issues. Eyeball menaces. They protested his appointment, something he actually agreed with. Putting a fifteen year old on the throne is rarely a smart decision. But the Infinite Realm values strength, the only type of currency that matters in the land of the gods and the dead. Danny? Phantom? He’s got strength in spades. With only a few months of being a ghost, Danny had managed to defeat Pariah Dark, who had cowered gods and struck fear into the hearts of ghost heroes.

But Danny hasn’t quite realized the significance of that yet, too focused on the realization that he was about to be in charge of the infinite realms. The Observants, since his reluctant and extremely limited coronation, has been up his ass about doing things the “proper way.”

Danny’s main problem lies with the ridiculous amount of paperwork though. It’s fine. Tedious. But fine.

But if he gets one more fifteen page essay style complaint form about some guy named Constantine, Danny might seriously reconsider donning Dan’s ruthlessness and offing the guy himself. Perhaps grab the man by his shoulders and shake him like a rag doll and ask who the fuck told him it was a good idea to sell his soul out like that? Danny eventually just sent out Skulker to hunt down the contracts and trade minor services for them. He owns most of the soul now, and perhaps he’ll hunt this guy down and force him to do paperwork.

Regardless, paperwork was just often tedious. He’s worked out a system for himself. The halfa, true to his teenage form, had better things to be doing. His homework, for one. Hanging out with his friends and logging in hours for Doomed 2 would be another. But no, he’s here, twirling a pen as he glared down at a stack of forms for a zone expansion. What the fuck does Zeus want to expand his zone for? The current share space of the sky domain is literally a perfect balance with respect towards the other gods. For the love of- Danny slams down a red ‘REJECTED’ stamp on top of the stack. His hair flickers wildly in annoyance, the iced over Crown floating above his head emitting concerning levels of frost. To anyone else but himself, of course.

He then feels a soft tug on his core.

Right. The third most annoying thing about becoming King: the fucking summoning. Danny taps his pen against his lips, clicking it against his fangs, as he considers the summoning circle that calls him. Huh. Desperation. Mildly bloody. Fear. Resignation- ah, fuck it, it’s not like he’s too enthusiastic about staying to do work with the Observers poking around. He takes the summoning, allowing his regalia to overtake his normal hazmat-clad form, and approves the summoning.

Oh hey, Danny thinks he recognizes that ugly ass trenchcoat.

—-

John Constantine has had more than enough practice summoning things that would give people nightmares. But there are things he normally refuses to touch, refuses to even entertain the idea of trying. As usual, desperation made John its bitch and the Justice League’s battered and bruised faces tugged on his shriveled heart.

He’s going to summon something from the Infinite Realms. Oh, but he wasn’t just summoning any old ghost. No, he thought, I’m just going to summon the one being that’s guaranteed to be able to crush our universe without breaking a sweat. Bollocks.

“Is it ready?”

“Untwist your pants, spooky,” John snaps, wishing he had a crate of whiskey he could down. “We’re trying to summon the Ghost King, not your average demon.”

“What do we know about him?” Batman’s gravelly voice demanded.

“Powerful enough to take us all out without even breaking a sweat. Defeated the bloody tyrant who ruled over the Realms last I heard.”

“That’s it?”

“You could ask Deadman, but I heard he’s on the outs with the Infinite Realms on the fact that he’s made of pure magic, not ectoplasm.”

“There’s no guarantee the king will work with us.” Zatanna says, pressing her fingertips together tiredly. She had been at the forefront of the battle and had paid the price for it. “But he’s supposedly more benevolent than his predecessor… and we’re out of options.”

“Hm.”

“Just make sure to shut up and let me do the talking.”

“Hn.”

John rolls his eyes and takes a fortifying breath, something that does not go unnoticed by the League. They all tense up, preparing themselves for a battle. Another one, seeing as they all got their ass kicked by a ghost only ten hours ago. The League is spread thin, running interference to distract the ghost in question and evacuating civilians.

John Constantine started chanting, the glow of his magic lighting up the circle as he spills his blood into the circle.

He waits, heart in his throat, for the summoning to work.

“Is it supposed to take-” Red Robin asks, only to cut himself off as the circle flares once more. Power pulsates outwards from the circle. Frost crackles on the frost resistant floors, spreading outwards as a green portal rips open the fabric of time and space. Long, spindly imitations of a hand grabs the edges of space and pulls, heaving the rest of his celestial body out of the tear in reality. John does not look away. He can not look away, not from the eerie green pallor of the King, not from his torrential white wisps of hair, not from the black-hole like material of his outfit, not from the nebulas and beginnings and endings tailored onto the King’s cape. John could not look away from the ice crown that floated like a bastion of power above the king’s head.

His mouth is dry. What price will he have to pay to save the world? What price will this being demand of him, of the Justice League, to save the world?

John desperately needs that drink.

—-

Oh! He’s in his home dimension! His core purrs at coming home, at the close proximity to his first haunt.

He was expecting cultists, or even the Winchesters again, but this is nice.

The Justice League- summoning him. Sam and Tucker are going to flip when they hear about this.

They’ve been staring at him in silence for a bit now. It was getting awkward.

“Why have you summoned me?” He asks, softening his tone. By their winces, he didn’t get it as well as he thought. Danny grimaces. At the first sign of discomfort though, the man in the trenchcoat- is that fucking Constantine?!- launches into a nerve filled tirade.

“Your, uh, Majesty.” He starts. “One of… One of your subjects is wreaking havoc on the world. We would be extremely grateful if… if you could reign him in?”

Danny’s face sours, only to quickly clear his expression as he realized how much even a small hint of displeasure causes the jumpiness in Constantine and the others.

“To do that, I will have to make a contract with you, seeing as you’ve summoned me.” Danny drawls, letting his overly long digits wave at the summoning circle in question. He could break it, of course, but Danny’s bored and trying to draw this out. He’s not saying he’d take a batch of cookies as payment but that’s exactly what he’s saying.

“The price… you could always have my soul?”

Danny pauses. “Your… soul?”

Oh, he did not say what he just said.

“Yes. My soul.”

Oh, he did.

Fuck it. Danny’s flashbacks of suffering through the reports pushes green into his irises and urgency to his action.

He breaks out of the circle, hands lunging and gripping Constantine’s jaw tightly. Danny ignores the shouts of alarm as he allows the thrown weapons to pass through him.

John Constantine is panicking now, struggling in the air as Danny lifts him an inch off the floor in agitation.

Good.

“Your soul, little wizard? The one you’ve split eight ways till the thirtieth of February? The one that caused,” he tightens his grip, no doubt bruising the man. “An insane amount of paperwork that I’ve had to suffer through. Your soul, John Constantine?”

Danny hisses his name. The man makes a warbling noise that Danny takes as acknowledgement. Danny bats away the weak spell Zatanna sends at him with a hand.

“You’ll find that I am in the possession of most of your soul contracts. To simply put,” he grins, teeth made of dying stars on display. “I own your soul. My soul, now.”

He drops the wizard who collapses onto his knees to stare up at him in horror, eyes flicking between the circle that was meant to contain him and Danny, who is very much not contained. He crouches down- something necessary but disjointed as he’s not used to this taller form- and speaks to Constantine in a slow, dead serious, drawl.

“If you ever sell your soul again, you and I are going to have issues. Is that clear, John Constantine?”

“Uh- yeah, yes, yes, your majesty.”

Patting his cheek condescendingly, Danny gets up and sighs, stress relieved. He’s starting to feel bad, though, so he allows his form to ripple back to his normal teenage Phantom self.

“Well, it’s not like anyone will buy it, since they know they’ll have to go against me.” He chirps, flipping 180 from his terror inducing eldritch voice. “So, what’ll you pay me to get rid of whatever ghost you’ve got?”

“…. Nothing?”

Red Robin holds out a bag, eyebags betraying his exhaustion. “I’ve got fifty dollars and a bag of cookies.”

Phantom beams at him. “Throw in a couple of autographs and you’ve got a deal.”

“That’s- yeah, okay.” Red Robin says, inching forward cautiously to hand him the bag.

“Great. I’ll be back for them later. You can call me Phantom. ‘Your Majesty’ gets annoying after a while.”

“Thank- thank you for your mercy, Your- Phantom.” Wonder Woman says.

“Sure. Make sure this idiot doesn’t make any more deals with demons while I’m out, yeah?”

With that, Danny Phantom grabs the bag of cookies and fifty dollars and flies through the wall to do his job.

John slams his head onto the space station floor.

“Fuck.”

—-

Danny: lol I’ll do it for the shits and giggles

Constantine and the League: he’s terrifying, a bastion of pure power and authority

Red Robin, Young “we commit war crimes bc it gets shit done” Justice leader and fellow gremlin: he’d probably do it for cookies. I would.

[tourettesdog]

DP x DC prompt where the Drs. Fenton take a trip to Gotham to investigate Batman because they're convinced he's a ghost.

Danny is convinced that his parents are insane and he spends the entire drive there complaining with Jazz.

He watches their parents deck out the hotel room with traps and is just groaning the entire time.

Danny goes for an invisible flight around Gotham to explore and escape the loud hotel room. He winds up following sounds of commotion to a robbery and that's when he gets his first sight of Batman.

And, oh Ancients, the man looks like a shadow given form and feels like death. It drips off of him in waves. It's like sensing a ghost, but off.

Faced with the realization that Batman does in fact seem to be a ghost-- or at least in some way ghost-adjacent (ghost-affiliated?)-- Danny has to divide his attention between protecting Batman from his parents, and trying to figure out what tf he actually is.

(Danny is a little annoyed his parents seem to be right about this one thing.)

[ghostly-penumbra]

Seven Ways to Summon the Ghost King

Chapter One: Traditional way

[Here] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7]

Ao3

Summary: Harry makes a nice acquitance... in a dark wizards raid, of all places.

Warning: Attempted murder.

- - -

Harry ran down the dilapidated manor’s hall, with his best mate watching his back as they approached the eerie room lit only by candlelight.

They pressed themselves against the wall, with Harry taking the lead and his wand ready, listening to the chanting go on.

Whatever these dark wizards were summoning, it was powerful, and they couldn’t just barge in and cut it out, that would just end up activating the defensive drawings in green ink all over the place and that wouldn’t end up nicely.

(They had done their research, unfortunately for their foes, and knew they could enter in an exact certain moment, when the ritual became welcoming, but right before…)

“And now we present this sacrifice! For only death can call Death!”

“Now!” Harry commanded in a low voice that only Ron heard, and they entered the chambers wand blazing, with the rest of their squad following close behind. “Expeliarmus!” He bellowed, making the dagger held by the dark witch soar through the air and fall to the floor with a clatter.

A myriad of colours flew through the air as spells were cast, with their light reflecting on the cold stone walls.

“Depulso! Protego!” Harry yelled, sliding next to the unconscious muggle tied down to the stone table.

“Bombarda! Mate, cover me!” Ron began casting, seeking to undo the magical bindings as well as the muggle ones.

In between the battling and the arrival of the back-up Aurors, Harry and Ron could be excused for not noticing the ground shaking right away, or how the candle lights flickered before turning green…

“Potter! Weasley!” Kingsley Shaklebolt yelled at them whilst fending off two opponents at once. “What’s going on?!”

What they knew he had actually asked, though, was ‘Why is it going on? Didn’t you just stop the sacrifice? Is that person dead?’

Ron took a limp wrist in his grasp and said, “It’s still beating.”

“Sir, the ritual wasn’t completed!” Harry reported to his superior, then hastily put up another shield. “It shouldn’t have worked…”

“Oh, but he’s here!” One of the dark wizards said, a manic gleam on his face, right before Ron knocked him out with a desmaius.

Above them, green clouds began to spread in a spiral, thundering and glowing, slowly bringing out a royally-clad figure.

Ron, now carrying the victim bridal-style, looked at him with apprehension.

“Go.” Harry said firmly.

“But-”

“Ron, go!” Harry looked pointedly at the unconscious muggle in Ron’s arms, and his best mate reluctantly relented, and took off running towards Kingsley.

“Bow down before Pariah Dark! King of the Gho-!” The frantic cry of joy was cut short when Harry sent a knock-back jinx at the witch.

The Man Who Lived stood straight, staring at the coalescing mist with his jaw set, ready to face Death down once again.

-

Danny opened his eyes and found himself in a room(? Chamber?) full of people in various states of consciousness, with the ones awake looking all at him.

“Uh, hi…” He said with a little wave of his hand.

The guy closest to him looked him up and down with a serious face.

“Uh, can someone tell me where are we?”

-

The magic world never really stopped surprising Harry, but that was alright, because it seemed to keep surprising itself as well. Take for example Phantom, the Ghost King, who seemed unable to stop fidgeting as he floated next to Harry.

“So, uh, can I leave, officer?” The boy asked.

Harry lifted an eyebrow. “You are not detained, I just need to ask you a few questions. Besides,” he eyed the flaming crown perched atop his head (which was quite big for him, and looked about to fall down his head and end up as a collar), “I don’t really believe I have enough authority as to detain you.”

The boy king put a hand on his nape and pursed his lips, so clearly not used to this that Harry took pity on him and chose to be straightforward.

“Why did you come here?” He started. “The ritual wasn’t completed, no one died, so why- how did you get here?”

“Oh, well, I still don’t know much about that, but I think I got an idea.” The boy looked at him seriously, and continued. “These guys tried to summon the Ghost King, but their information is outdated, just a bit; the last King accepted sacrifices, but I don’t, they are anathema to me and my Obsession.” He explained. “I think that’s why it worked, I mean, it probably wouldn’t if they had actually killed someone, but outside of that, their stuff was pretty solid.”

Harry watched as emotions crossed the boy that died’s face, seriousness, solemnity, anger… then calm, and lastly, sheepishness again.

“You’re not doing as they say, then.” Harry barely asked, and mostly stated. “If the blood sacrifice didn’t tie you to them, you can do as you please.”

“Yeah, I guess so…”

Phantom looked around, and Harry looked around, and when their gazes met again, there was an understanding only a pair of trouble-magnets could share.

“Say, did they even know how to summon me, officer…?”

“Auror.” Harry corrected.

“Officer Auror.”

“No, that’s- you know what? That’s okay.” The dead Kin seemed to notice Harry’s brief struggle, but chose to ignore it and let Harry “Auror” Potter answer. “They had this book, an old thing, really, rather fragile, with all these dark spells and rituals and stuff. A lot of drawings of clouds and doorways…” That actually interested him, but he had a feeling he wouldn’t be getting more answers from the teen.

“Shame if something happened to it and it… disappeared.”

“Shame indeed.”

They shared a moment of silence, barely a minute.

“Well, officer Auror, it was nice meeting ya but I got stuff to do back home.”

“Oh, no, how could I possibly physically stop you?”

“You can’t.”

With a little wave, King Phantom disappeared from sight, far neater than Harry’s Invisibility Cloak and was soon replaced by questions and exclamations from his fellow wizards.

Later, Harry would find out about an important, dangerous book disappearing into thin air.

For now, though, he just smirked and huffed out a laugh.

“Long live the dead King.”

[totally-correct-shenanigans]

Penelope: I'm telling you, ghosts aren't real!

The Rest of the Gang, who have all had experience with ghosts:

[ghostly-overture-wally]

hey, do you mind if I add you to a "as many wally aus as I recall " sideshow? I'm going to torture my classmates with it at the end of the school year!

“Oh yes, I would very much like to be included in your ‘slideshow’.”

“But I have to ask, what is a ‘slideshow’, Neighbor?”

[phantasmaltrain]

wip for the phantom hall au! having fun writing ghostly banter ^^

melli’s reaction to the twins’ approach was nothing short of a wheeze, the ghostly warden turning to his companion leaning against the base of the display case. half sprawled out across the top of the glass, he rolled flat on his stomach, peering over the top to look at nobori with a smug look.

“ never knew you got any action back then, old man. those two are practically your spitting image. ”

“ i do not have any descendants, melli, if that is what you are accusing me of. ”

“ no descendants my ass. what’s the likelihood of someone else having your little knife hair and everything, huh? they’ve even got your hat! well, one of them does at least. twins…didn’t you always talk about having a twin brother? ever remember his name? ”

“ his name was- ”

“ emmet, we do not need to redesign our uniforms. they’re fine. ”

“ but it is the same hat and coat! i will not stand for this! ”

nobori seemed to almost click to attention as the two begun to volley back and forth in conversation, earning another snort of contempt from the purple haired man lying on top of the case at his quick distraction.

nobori had been spacey in life, sure, but by almighty sinnoh he was worse in death. snapping his fingers a few times above the silver haired man’s head, melli’s expression resembled that of a grimace. ( or perhaps closer to a pout. ) at the noise, nobori seemed even less focused on what he had to say, getting up from his spot on the floor.

“ hey! i was asking you something, why bother pay attention to their gibberish you- ”

“ sh. could you do that again? ”

“ do what again? ”

“ snapping your fingers. i need to make sure i saw that correctly. ”

brows furrowed, melli responded with an emphasized sigh, rolling his eyes, before sitting up.

“ fine, fine. ”

holding one hand up, he begun snapping his fingers again, glaring over to nobori with annoyance practically plastered onto his face.

“ what exactly is the point of this? ”

“ just look at their faces. watch. ”

the two men standing in front of the case seemed to carry on with their conversation for a bit. not even paying a glance over. the smiley one; ‘emmet’, if he had heard his name right, had continued talking without a care.

the frowning one, who’s name eluded both wardens, seemed rather intent on listening, but for a few moments, his gaze seemed to just

shift as to where melli was sitting

before quickly looking away.

the two ghosts sat stunned in silence, before melli threw his hands up in the air in exasperation.

“ SO HE CAN HEAR US!? ”

“ hear us? yes. understand us? likely not. ”

“ and why is that, since you’re apparently a paranormal expert now? ”

craning his head to look at nobori, melli responded with a cross armed gesture, still lying on top of the glass display case with a scowl.

“ they’re speaking galarian, melli. whether he can hear us or not, we sound like gibberish. ”

“ oh, great. first person to acknowledge us in three centuries, and he doesn’t even UNDERSTAND us. ”

“ …you do know i speak galarian, corre-”

“ oh, so NOW you bring that up!? ”

“ i thought you knew that already. that, and the fact i would have told you had you not interrupted me. ”

brows furrowed, nobori cleared his throat, cupping one hand by his mouth.

“ hello? the young man with the black hat? can you hear us over here? ”

clearly he did; the man sharply turned himself towards their direction and away from who they presumed to be his brother, squinting at the wall before shaking his head, pinching the bridge of his nose, and beginning to trod off, seemingly to ‘emmet’s’ surprise.

the pair’s expressions seemed to hold a mild sense of triumph, before quickly melting into that of a collective franticness as the man begun to walk away. they weren’t loosing this opportunity, not now.

“ ingo? where are you going? it is not wise to become uncoupled on unfamiliar tracks- ingo! ”

‘emmet’ seemed to quickly jog after him alongside a black haired woman, leaving the space in front of the case empty once again.

melli quickly scrabbled up to a more sitting position, almost considering hopping down from the case. but that didn’t really matter. wasn’t like they could leave, anyways. they had tried that a few times over; it was like they were in their own glass case.

rather, his gaze shifted to nobori, wildly so, quickly attempting to snap the other back to attention. sauntering off the case, he shook the other warden by the shoulders, snapping his fingers again.

( while he wasn’t facing ‘ingo’ now, the man had stopped once again, staring intently at the case for the source of the noise. )

“ shit, shit, he’s leaving- call at him again! ingo- that’s what the other guy called him! yell that at him, why don’t you! ”

“ alright, alright, no need to shout at me- ingo! may i ask you return over here! we are requesting your assistance! ”

melli’s expression shifted from desperation to absolute panic and bewilderment as nobori begun stepping forward, shrugging him off and moving as if he was trying to follow the man.

they had tried that a few times since they had been stuck here for…sinnoh knows how long. always ended horribly. melli dove to drag the other back by the collar of his jacket, but his hand missed and he fell over entirely, hat falling over his face.

with an exasperated shout, he lifted the brim from over his eyes, jaw falling slack once he realized nobori had, in fact, somehow made it a few steps further from the case, still shouting out with that booming voice of his with his hands cupped by his mouth.

“ …nobori. ”

“ melli, i am attempting to concentrate here, could you please- ”

“ nobori look at where the hell you’re standing you absolute fool! ”

the man paused, tense. slowly turning around, nobori seemed to realize what he had done, silver eyes flitting between where melli was propping himself up back to a standing position, and his own shoes.

( that of which he could see the floor through; ghosts weren’t completely tangible, anyway. )

[executionersghost]

New haunted mansion movie??? With Danny DeVito?

[glitchysquidd]

The unholy combination of the purple guy and sans the skeleton

Funny lil' creature but please go tf to bed or I will turn you into calamari-

dances around you

no no and no i woke up at 12am and have been up since then get squashed stanky,

[cuddledot]

Hey

[mntacuyan]

tested out procreate's animation feature with a particular ghostboi who keeps me up all night

[dnpanimationstudioclone]

Who’s a character you would rewrite first in a DP reboot? (This is also @ghostly-shenanigans-in-progress)

I guess I'd start off with the main characters like Danny, Sam & Tucker. Though technically guess I started with Sidney pointdexter. Thanks for asking💖

https://dnpanimationstudioclone.tumblr.com/post/688093503095521280/about-sidney-pointdexter

https://dnpanimationstudioclone.tumblr.com/post/687345099875680256/sidney-pointdexter-episode-rewrite

[ghostly-penumbra]

Seven Ways to Summon the Ghost King

Chapter Six: Traditional Way, Part II: The Remix: Electric Boogaloo, Slumber Party Edition

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [here] [7]

Ao3

Summary: Class 1-A humours its resident goth...

... things go exactly as he planned.

- - -

A Hero’s life was a stressful one, even if you were still just a student. It was nice, to find kinship and support from people that got it, that sometimes had been there with you as you faced down the villains.

That is to say, the UA dorms had been a great idea, actually. 1-A managed to find the perfect balance between each other’s little idiosyncrasies pretty well, with only minor mishaps along the way.

This week’s’ “Fun Night” showed to be quite the example.

“Are we sure we’re gonna do this?” Asked Kaminari with a shaking voice as he passed the small candles for Todoroki to light up with a touch of his finger.

They were in their dorm’s common room, with the furniture pushed to the side to make space for the… temporal redecorations.

“Well, it is his turn to pick this week’s activity.” Yaoyorozu said reasonably, watching Tokoyami draw the summoning circle from memory without hesitation.

“Yeah! ‘Sides we all participated in your skit videos last week!” Mina told him as she skipped next to him. “So if our introverted classmates can appear and act in front of a camera, you can hold hands and chant the creepy verses!” She slung an arm over his shoulders and pulled him towards herself to whisper in his ear, “And it’s not like something’s gonna actually happen, so relax!” And with a conspiratory wink she shoved him off.

- - -

“YOU SAID NOTHING WAS GOING TO HAPPEN!”

“NOT NOW, KAMINARI!”

“How do we stop it?! It’s almost finished!”

“Someone bring Aizawa-sensei!”

“It’s too late.” Tokoyami announced calmly over the cacophony of his panicking classmates. His eyes were lit up with the reflection of the green fire on the candles, giving them a manic gleam “He is here.”

All the candles that Todoroki unsuccessfully tried to smother with his ice flared up at the same time, illuminating the scared faces of the heroes-to-be for a second, and then diminished back to small embers, making the biggest source of light in the room the pair of flames that hovered in place atop the summoning circle, until these two blinked out… and then back on

“If this is another cult seeking immortality…” A voice said a hundred times at the same time, and even Todoroki’s resistance to the cold was useless against the chill that ran down their backs.

Bakugo would remember that Midoriya moved first, activating his quirk and launching himself at the dark figure feet first in a kick aimed to the face.

The person –being?– caught Midoriya by the ankle and easily redirected him to skid along the floor with his momentum. They –it?– dodged Kirishima’s hardened fists with the ease of a dancer, sidestepped a rising block of ice and broke it into small flakes of dust. Bakugo had him in the face with a good explosion and –bright toxic green eyes that bore into his soul as he illuminated them, making him feel so smallweakuseless– next he knew he was crashing against stupid fucking Deku, who chose that fucking moment to have his second wind.

“That’s enough.” The being said, and the lights came back on. (He couldn’t be older than any of them. He just couldn’t!)

The class stopped in their tracks at the sight of him, except for Iida who had already ignited his engines and was just as easily redirected back towards his friends, who held him quickly as he abruptly stopped his quirk.

“A bunch of teenagers, why not.” The little boy face palmed after looking at them.

“Hey, that’s rude!” Ashido complained, being the first one to step up with no intentions of attacking.

“Well, forgive me for not lying to spare your feelings after being summoned against my will in the middle of a power nap.

“But let me guess,” he pinched the bridge of his nose and rested his elbow on his other palm, “you somehow found an ancient ritual to summon one of the most powerful beings there are –which, by the way, I made sure to get rid of- the rituals! Any book that had it. Jeez, I didn’t get rid of all the powerful beings, don’t give me these faces.”

The students looked at each other; had it been that they all misunderstood the –boy’s– words and jumped to the same gruesome conclusion, or had he just been bad at wording?

“Anyway, you kids somehow found the only source for how to summon an eldritch abomination, thought it would be a fun bonding activity,” an awkward glance at each other, “and didn’t stop to think, just for a second, that perhaps you shouldn’t be messing with things you don’t understand?”

The class kept silent, most of them staring ashamed at their feet, some even scuffing the floor with them.

“It was Tokoyami’s idea!” Kaminari cried, trying to hide behind Kirishima. “He was the one to do it all!”

“Kaminari!” Several of his classmates cried out in offense at such coward snitching.

“Hey!” The ghost boy called, bringing everyone’s attention back to him. He had stopped hovering, rather planting both feet on the ground. “Alright, listen. I’m not mad at you kids, but this is something you shouldn’t be meddling in just for fun. And not only that, but I made sure no way to summon me remained in this plane of existence, so I need to know how you did it, to make sure you didn’t do something dumber than summoning me.” With his hands on his hips and that I-can’t-believe-I-have-to-deal-with-this face, the self-proclaimed eldritch abomination looked more like an annoyed (if short) senpai correcting his kohais.

“It was not hubris nor naïveté that made me desire to summon you, King of Ghosts, Liminal God, Harbringer of-” Tokoyami’s greeting was cut short as said liminal god –and didn’t that make some eyes widen in shock and wariness– held up a hand to stop him.

“Two titles are more than enough, buddy. Y’all can call me Phantom.”

That sounded like such a simple hero name, that the students easily accepted it. Phantom: The Ghost King Hero.

“As you wish, Phantom.” The goth corrected himself with a grave nod. “As I said, I did not arrange for your summoning out of hubris or ingenuity, for you see, we are in the dark path of Heroism, where we will face countless more encounters with horror, destruction, and death, and so I sought you out, so you may tell my friends of the kindness of leaving this world.”

His classmates stared at Tokoyami after his solemn words; some with apprehension, others with growing understanding. Iida adjusted his glasses and breathed in deeply, preparing to launch himself into a rant speech about how they were thankful for his consideration but he should please refrain himself from things like this, when the bird-headed boy spoke again.

“And if you could please sign this for me, I would be in your debt.” The boy held out a black, leather-bound journal with a black pen adorned with a plastic skull hanging from the bookmark.

There was a long, awkward beat of silence until –unsurprisingly– Bakugo exploded.

“YOU FUCKING SUMMONED A FUCKING DEATH GOD JUST TO GET A SHITTY AUTOGRAPH?!”

The feeling was shared by the rest of the class, as they showed their discontent all at the same time.

Tokoyami ignored them, though, keeping his wide, hopeful –and, this was a bit worrying– worshipping eyes on Phantom, until he finally relented.

“Alright, kids, listen up!” Phantom said, commanding the attention back to himself. He took the journal from the bird-headed boy and flipped the pages until he found a blank one. “Gosh, this brings me memories…” He mumbled, scribbling down, before continuing for the class. “Rule Number Two of Interacting With Paranormal Slash Mystical Slash Magical Slash Et Cetera Et Cetera Et Cetera, never make open-ended deals, ever, this includes but is not limited to: contracts, handshakes lood oaths, spit oaths, fist bumps, promises, spoken words –you get the gist. Now, what did you friend say to me?”

The teenagers looked at each other in awkward silence but, being teenagers, they were easily reverted to their ‘we’re in a lecture in class mode, and the brave soul of Yaoyorozu raised her hand.

“Tokoyami-kun said that he would be in your debs in exchange of an autograph.”

“And there was truth and intent to his words, so now that I’ve fulfilled his request…” He let the sentence open as he showed the journal where it now had a stylized D with a smaller P within it.

The class looked at their friend with mixed feelings of concern, irritation, and fear.

“You could ask anything from him.” A brave soul finally answered.

Tokoyami didn’t seem to care what might be asked of him, as he stared almost reverently at the journal now back in his hands. That wouldn’t do.

“Well then,” Phantom began, placing his hands on his hips, ready to deal out a detention, “your part of the deal will be that you never ever again make such a fool open-ended deal with anyone! No ghost, monster, creature, oni, Higher Being™, angel, god, God, demon, or anything else I may have forgotten. Not your parents, not your relatives, classmates not your teachers or principal, not random people on the street, not children, not the government. No one, ever.” He finished sternly as Tokoyami nodded along.

“That…! Is actually really kind of you, Phantom-san.” Iida saod thoughtfully.

“The Lord of Cessation is known for his kindness and fairness.” Tokoyami told them, clutching the journal to his chest when he noticed Bakugo’s slightly-more-murderous-than-normal expression still in place.

“Yes, I’m cool, I know, whatever.” Phantom was massaging his temples breathing deep and slow. “Alright! He began anew, now with some cheer. “I haven’t’ been to the Living World for anything other than work in over a century and a half, so, what’s good in video games these days?” He asked with a smile finally acting like the teen he was when he died.

“I mean the controls are different, but a fighting game is a fighting game, so no biggie.”

“If you want you can pick All Might to make it more even!”

There were very heated protests (from two very specific boys) as everyone surrounded the dorm’s gaming centre so Phantom said “Don’t worry, I’m my own character.” Before merging with the console and appearing on the screen, unleashing chaos among class 1-A once again.

- - -

“So you were born before the Dawn of Quirks? What was it like?” Midoriya asked, distractedly losing in Hero Cart as he kept looking at Phantom next to him.

“Eh, I can’t really say it was much different. Y’all seem to have gotten… stuck in time, in a way. Like, I understand a lot of stuff like time and work and resources go to make accommodations for mutations and stuff which is great, don’t get me wrong, but one would have thought that over two hundred years in the future, at least clothes would be different.

“And for what the dead say, some of those ‘accommodations’ are… doubtful, to say the least. And don’t get me started in social issues.” He quickly mumbled with his mouth in a thin line. “So, overall, it was pretty similar. It may have to do with the fact that I was born in another dimension.”

He kept his focus on the game. So, if Phantom noticed all of their shocked faces and stunned silence, he didn’t show it.

- - -

“D’you guys have DOOMED?” Phantom asked as he leaned against the couch from his place on the floor, watching as Mina ruthlessly obliterated Sero in Dance, Dance Revolution!

“What’s DOOMED?” Ashido asked, not skipping a step as Sero stumbled with the increasing speed of the game.

All the lights went out and the room’s temperature dropped, making Tsuyu swoon and the rest of the class to cry in alarm or fall into battle stances.

“The DOOMED devs didn’t release the game’s code for it to become memetic, only to be completely ignored by some- futurelings from another dimension!”

The lights returned, and the TV they were playing in turned back on; the cold ebbed out slowly, not as abrupt as it had come, and Tsuyu slowly began to stir helped by the proximity of Todoroki’s left side.

“Alright, kiddos! I hope you’re interested in coding, ‘cause I know by heart and tonight, we make history!”

- - +

Phantom typed away without thinking it twice, confident, whilst the class watched and Midoriya took notes just as fast, transcribing on his notebook what Phantom put in the computer.

Kyoka leaned against Tokoyami’s side as they saw, well, history. “This is the best night ever. Do you have any other interesting being in your journal? Possibly someone who liked karaoke?”

“Just so y’all know!” Phantom told them cheerily, spinning his neck 180º degrees as his hands kept typing. “I know I’m cool and a chill guy to hang out with, but that’s ‘cause I was human and died at fourteen! Most beings that can be summoned hate being summoned. Myself included, bus, as I said, I’m rather cool!”

A chill ran down the class’ back again, and all of them –minus Midoriya, who kept on writing– turned to look at the resident goths.

“… I shall abstain from more summonings, Lord Phantom.” Tokoyami conceded, and Dark Shadow cooed at him.

“There’s a good boy!” Phantom said brightly, returning to his coding.

“Let’s just do regular karaoke next week, right, guys?”

“Alright, students!” Phantom called them. “Get ready to get schooled!”

- - -

[lcstkey]

@lionfated​ said  ❝ i’m sorry. i’m having trouble understanding any of this. ❞  

"Same, but since when did anything had to make sense?” The keybearer asks then shrugs nonchalantly, “’Sides, first rule of world-hopping is to assume that you know nothing.”

Selena briefly looks down at the glass bottle with the mystery substance labeled “Drink Me” and doesn’t bat an eye as she chugs it. Nor does she react when she starts to shrink to the size of a mouse and drops the vial in the process. The keybearer looks around before turns her direction toward the small door. 

“Hey, I bet that I go through that door now!” She doesn’t realize yet that he may not hear her because her voice is now comprised of squeaks. 

[realjoehours]

THE SUN IS, INFACT, A DISTANT GORILLA. I HAVE BEEN THERE, I KNOW.

[plain text: the sun is, infact, a distant gorilla. I have been there, I would know.]

woah you’ve been to the sun? how’d you do that?!

[1nplainsight]

TAGS AND LINKS.

GHOST / BANSHEE → Here. BLAZE → Here. JACKRABBIT → Here. SIRONA → Here.

SHIP TAGS -> Here. VERSE TAGS -> Here. NORMAL TAGS ↴

[ovytia-art]

Happy 20th Dannyversary!

I’ve made so many friends and grown so much since joining the wonderful community, I hope we have many more years of ghostly shenanigans