#he still gets the phantom feeling that it’s still there

[kittyfrisk9]

IdeaDpxDc: A nice moment with a sleep demon.

Note: Sorry, I don't know English, so please use a translator. I apologize if you don't get the idea.

Dead On Main.

---

Danny accidentally absorbed some of Nocturn's powers (like in the Vortex episode), and now, with these new temporary abilities, why not take advantage of them? Like a kid with a new toy, Danny (or should I say Phantom: with a new design) has fun every night going from dream to dream.

The dream world is so strange! Without the constant threat of a dream entity trying to take over the world and all that. Now he has fun exploring the most unusual parts of his classmates' subconscious, or anyone's in general.

Even though he knows he shouldn't be doing this (after all, he's a responsible adult now), spying on other people's dreams isn't exactly something a mature person would do.

On the other hand, Danny is the responsible adult; Phantom is the one who uses his new powers recklessly. Plus, no one in Gotham knows who Phantom is, and at the end of the day, he's not hurting anyone. Point in his favor!

It was all fun and games… until he felt it: the unpleasant taste of a nightmare, distressing and desperate. Phantom knows he has to intervene, because, unlike Nocturn, he does not delight in the suffering of others.

So he goes. And what he sees shocks him.

Resonant laughter of a psychopath, the constant pain of flesh being beaten, and the devastating reminder that no one came to help. Phantom doesn't just see it, he feels it. Gross. What is this? Why would anyone be hurting a child? Then he understands: this is not just a nightmare, it's a memory, and someone is suffering from reliving it.

He absolutely will not allow this nightmare to continue.

...

Jason hasn't been having good days lately, mostly because instead of going to therapy, he's chosen to sweep his trauma under the rug and aggressively throw himself into crime-fighting. He's not good at dealing with his emotions, especially when he's been tormented by the same damn nightmare over and over again.

He knows the script by heart, he knows how it will end, but he still feels the same fear as the first time.

His head hurts.

"No, not again," he thinks in terror. Once again, he's tied up, unable to move or call for help. It's colder than he remembers. The walls have a grotesque tint, with laughter written in every corner. But the worst thing is the silence… until the sound of clashing metal begins to resonate.

Everything is a thousand times worse. He's sure the original scenario wasn't like this, but his terrified mind refuses to accept it.

The metallic sound resonates louder, each crash rumbling in Jason's chest. His breathing quickens, and then he hears it: that laugh.

A deep, distorted echo of laughter that seems to come from every direction. The laughter snakes around the grotesque walls, filled with the same letters that repeat his agony. “Ha… ha… ha…” fills the air, louder with each invisible step that approaches.

Then, he appears.

It’s not the Joker he remembers from that fateful night. This one is worse. Bigger, more deformed, with a smile that seems to tear at his own face. The colors of his suit are darker, more twisted. It’s as if his mind has amplified him, made him more monstrous.

“My, my, how little Robin has grown? But… something remains the same, doesn’t it? No matter how many times you live it, it always ends the same way. And to think that you were my greatest work of art!”

His voice is mocking, but behind the mockery is pure cruelty, a wicked amusement that lights up in those crazy eyes.

The Joker leans towards Jason, his face invading the small distance between them. The sound of metal continues to echo, and Jason knows what's coming next.

"Oh, I almost forgot…" he says, pulling out of nowhere an iron crowbar that gleams in the dim light of the nightmare. "It wouldn't be a good memory without this, would it?"

That's when the pain begins. Jason doesn't want to scream, and he won't. Even though that abominable creature is just a representation of his killer, he won't give him the luxury of listening to him suffer. The blows continue, and Jason bites his tongue. It's just a nightmare, it's not real… it's not real.

It's not real.

It's not real.

It's not-

"Hey… Are you okay?" he hears him ask. His shocked gaze turns to where the clown should be and discovers that he's gone. In his place, there's a handsome young man: short, slightly messy black hair, expressive purple eyes, and a body almost completely shrouded in dark shadows.

The mysterious man had a cosmic air about him, surrounded by a mix of special effects of stars and galaxies. Something magical.

And new.

Jason honestly doesn't know what he's seeing, or why he's seeing it. "What?" he says, unable to find another word to describe his situation.

The entity laughs at his stunned state, a reassuring echo very different from the joker's laughter. Then he snaps his fingers, and suddenly he's no longer in that ugly room. He's now in a field of flowers, beautiful and vibrant, looking out at a starry sky.

Okay, this is the part where he asks his brain how he went from being in a nightmare to being with a handsome guy under the stars, hands free and untethered.

"Relax, you're not crazy," the being says as he lies back in the grass. “You were in pain, and I didn’t like it, so I got you out of there. Don’t worry, that abomination won’t bother you again.”

Jason blinks twice, bewildered, not understanding anything. “You… saved me?”

“You could say yes.”

“Why?” He shakes his head. “No, wait, that’s not the question. Who…?” Looking back at the being, he decides to change his question: “What are you?”

He seems to have taken the being by surprise.

It clasps its hands together as it looks up at the sky, trying to act normal. Jason narrows his eyes. “You can call me Void.”

“Did you just make up that name?”

The being looks away, seemingly embarrassed at being found out. “Yeah…” And suddenly exclaims, “Ah, ancients! I'm not supposed to be doing this, much less with one of the bats."

That last sentence had given away more than it should have.

"Hey, how about we admire the night view and then pretend this never happened?" Void suggested with a hopeful smile, turning to Jason.

Maybe it was the soft scent of the flowers, the calm atmosphere, or just the tiredness after so many nights of endless nightmares, but Jason, without thinking too much about it, walked over, lay down next to Void on the grass, and said, "No."

He needed a break.

...

And that's how Jason befriended a dream demon. And how Danny pretended to be a dream demon until Nocturn's powers wore off. He couldn't let the bats find out his identity.

After that, they spent more time together, fell in love, there was drama and there was closure. In the middle of all that, Danny started having tea with Alfred in the dream world, and at other times, he had fun bothering the other bats in their dreams.

But that's another story.

---

Note: Sorry, I don't know English, so please use a translator. I apologize if you don't get the idea.

[wanologic]

college au prequel: what happened to danny during junior year - 2940 words

Viscous green liquid sludges through a dry river bed, whetting the cracked ground and seeping deep into the void. Soil softens, becoming fat with nutrient. In the most basic definition, still itself, but filled with new matter, ready and accepting of more. This is what it was made for, its purpose. It has been sitting, dry and untended for too long. In this symbiosis it is more than it dreamed to be. Complete in the sense that it has been starved.

--

Danny wakes up, the dream lingering.

He’s been feeling odd lately, despite the fact that he is more comfortable in his skin than ever. He has a goal, he has support. 

A bridge, he called himself.

Even if he’s only sixteen and his influence is contextually small, he has time. People are listening. Ghosts are listening. Small steps over a long period will get you where you need to go, and he’s still just a kid. 

A kid who has to get ready for school.

He goes through the familiar motions, snags a quick breakfast and lets his parents know he’s headed out, that he’ll see them later. He’s out the door and on his way before he knows it.

Danny’s grades have improved since his freshman year. The pressure to keep things secret has all but alleviated and his family is sticking close. The world might not know that Fenton and Phantom are the same, but the people who matter do.

He’s managing. Thriving, even.

His extracurriculars are atypical of a high school junior, but he plays his role well. The Ghost Investigation Ward meets Phantom and the Fentons on neutral ground that evening, working their way methodically through a tangle of red tape. Teaching, learning. There’s always danger in compromise, but both parties are being two faced. It’s civil for now.

He’ll do this from the opposite angle on another day, playing border guard for the dimensional tear nestled into the fabric of his basement. Walker would be proud of him. He’s enforcing the Rules.

And it’s all going well as far as he can tell. Things are so much less chaotic than they were, his brawls feel like bonding, his head is no longer on a swivel.

For now, it’s off to his room. A space for himself to decompress after a long day's work.

He spends a lot of time thinking about a prehistoric past. What the future might look like once his job is over. This solid physical reality fed that swirling and infinite realm of emotion directly, once. It didn’t last, but time has passed. 

Danny is more aware of this fractured nature than most. He’s sure it’s why he’s had so much success. Why the responsibility falls on him. He feels it every time he calls upon his second self. 

And that’s what it is, isn’t it? Human first, ghost second. Humanity is the frame of reference he was born with. Everything new he experiences in this strange half-life is compared against it. Spectra once asked him what he was. But humanity is in his nature. He is a creepy boy with creepy powers. He’s sure of it. 

Going ghost.

Returning to humanity.

Not that he prefers one over the other. He’s made the choice. More than once. When his memories were erased or his powers short-circuited he always took them back. Felt the thrumming and euphoric energy pulsing through his being once again. His shape projected and unreal. Weightless. It feels incredible.

At some point, some late night discussion about feelings, whether it was with family or with friends, he realized his dual nature was more of a privilege than he could ever hope to fully comprehend. His human half feeds his ghost half everything. His ghost half is complete. No wonder he’s so determined, so strong. He has never once craved emotion the way the others have. He has intrinsic access to everything. Every failed test, every frustration, every joy, every thrill. He is comfortable and whole. Has no need to lash out. Two separate identities working together as two polar magnets, inseparable through the strength of their attraction, moving through the world as one.

He slips the familiar glowing rings across his body, the cool wash of ectoplasm coursing through his veins. Back again, blood pumps oxygen to his cells. Human. Ghost. Human. Ghost.

--

This time the dream is stranger.

The river craves the ocean. 

Danny feels the sand cake beneath his nails as he digs a trench, a violation of the river’s established bed. There’s a trickle as a thin and frothy stream flows out of sync with the current along the path he lays. It longs for the larger disconnected body ahead. A curious tendril seeking an easier path. He digs deeper, automatic, compelled by a force he doesn’t quite understand. 

Is this a bridge too?

He’s both excited and afraid to find out.

The liquid pools at his fingertips as fast as he can dig. Nudging. The sand is saturated and wet in front of him. He’s not sure how much further he has to go. But if he can claw his way through this dense barrier he’s sure it will pick up momentum even without him. The fluid mass can carve its own trench. Wider. Faster. Wider again.

He wakes up in a cold sweat. He somehow feels incorporeal. This isn’t right. He looks at his hands. His fingers in the dark. Clean. Spotless. He feels the sheets beneath his body, the press of the blanket above. So he’s still human then, wrong as it may seem. He clutches at his chest as he tries to calm his racing heart, quell the strength of an intense emotion that he cannot describe. It’s exhilarating. It’s terrifying.

He stops digging and fashions a dam, not yet ready for what the final connection could mean.

His head hurts.

Nausea tucks itself against his gut.

He takes a shower.

--

It’s Saturday and he has business in the Ghost Zone.

He shifts, expecting the weird feeling to subside. Instead it’s more of the same. Something is off. He ignores it. A thing to worry about later when he has less to do.

His work that day goes smoothly, another step in what he can only hope is the right direction. And it feels nice, giving in to the compulsion and focusing on what is in front of him, what is currently begging his attention, rather than the problems lurking beneath the surface. It is a learned behavior, one he falls back into easily.

Upon his return he feels like he is dragging a piece of the Infinite Realms back with him. The air seems to thicken, the cold steel walls of the portal are closing in on him. The exit is a pinpoint.  He’s being called back. He wants to move forward. He can feel silky fingers worm their way over his skin, hundreds of tendrils trying to pull him into their embrace. He stays strong. Moves with intent. The invisible hands can’t find enough purchase and he is finally welcomed back into the Physical World like the denizen he is. 

The caress stays with him much longer than he’s willing to admit.

--

Weeks go by and he only feels stranger and stranger. High. His attention slides off of everything so easily, his eyes blurring mid-conversation, a stuffy feeling, like a balloon that’s expanding well past the boundaries of his head. He loses time. Cancels appointments. He doesn’t feel well, sorry, he’s going to stay home today.

There is something Danny knows he needs to do. He can’t keep existing in limbo like this, his job only half-finished, pulled in two directions but choosing neither. His powers will wane once again in his indecision. His purpose sits unfulfilled.

He lays back and stares at the softly luminescent stars pasted to the ceiling of his room. Takes deep and even breaths as he struggles to remain present. His sister is worried for him, he’s sure. The best he can do for her is secretly practice what she has preached.

Danny eventually thinks back to that trickling stream. The slimy offshoot of the coursing river. He thinks of the dam he dreamed up all those weeks ago, sure it’s bigger now. His denial adds weight and height to the metaphor. Every day it feels less like a figment of his fucked up imagination and more like the worlds are trying to tell him something. What’s on the other side now, he wonders? Is the river still flowing? Are the fruits of his labor still there or has that little hand-clawed pathway dried up? How large is the reservoir pressing up against that sandy hill if it hasn’t?

He’s scared. 

He doesn’t want to know. 

But this isn’t what he promised himself.

A peek can’t hurt.

--

The dream comes easily, now that he lets it.

The funny thing about water is that it always finds a way. No matter what people do, how they try to tame it, erosion is inevitable. It starts as a dark wet splotch, the faint idea of a tiny breach in the all-but-permeable barrier between worlds—the river and the ocean. As the spot expands a dip forms on the horizon. The water moves. Under, through, over. Destructive. Alive. Danny shouldn’t have looked but he can’t stop what has already started. Equilibrium will be achieved one way or another. It was only ever a matter of time. He stands in the shallows, cowed as the wall comes down. Slowly first, then all at once.

The edges of panic are sharp and he realizes what is happening only a beat too late. 

The dam breaks.

He screams.

He was the dam, he is the trench, the rapid connection of energy flowing out of bounds and rushing along a new path. Lightning striking the rod to avoid burning down the house. The portal below him is a wound, a tear. He is something asked for, something natural. His mind can’t keep up as he struggles to regain ground and prevent being swept away by the violent current.

Dim awareness of his physical body comes back to him slowly as he writhes against the foreign dimension assaulting his senses. A second death. His double life was a conceptual marvel, a switch flipping from on to off, and back on again. He is the embodiment of two worlds, split, distinct. His quest to join them together requires this of him, doesn’t it? Whatever autonomy he has against the will of the universe cannot remain if he truly wants to serve his purpose. It’s a choice he has to make. One that he has been making. One that has been made.

He takes a deep and shuddering breath.

He tries to let go, and finds that he can’t. It’s like being electrocuted all over again, his nerves fried and his joints stuck rigid. It’s a feeling that is impossible to control, tense as he is.

His breath still comes ragged as colors around him saturate and the world warps. He can feel his fear, his desperation, feeding the momentum of whatever is happening. The exchange of emotion, osmosis through a rapidly deteriorating membrane. Thousands of overlapping inputs assault his mind as he feels the energy sliding around in the folds of his brain. He breathes through it. It’s not at all painful, but it is intense. His human points of reference aren’t working to help him conceptualize what is happening. His atoms are buzzing with newfound energy and the world is no longer solid. He tries once again to attempt the mindfulness ritual Jazz has been shoving down his throat, tries to name five things around him. The exercise fails him as he feels his brain liquefy in his skull. He gasps at the sloshing sensation, back arching. He’s going to be unmade.

Instead of loosening his grip, he tightens it. Remembering what it is to be human with all the force he can muster. His knuckles are white. Sweat slips down his brow. If he can’t let go, he has to hold on. He is gasping, thrashing. He’s hyperventilating, he’s sure, but no oxygen floods his system. He wants release, wants off this ride. The world outside of his perception ceases to exist. Flesh slips from his bones and it feels so, so good.

Then he sees it.

His eyes are blind, but he perceives it, somehow. The yawning void of the infinite realms is so much bigger, so much hungrier than he had ever thought. Reading that tablet, all that time ago, he thought his purpose was something simple. Easy in a way that a fourteen year old imagination could rationalize. The earth and the zone were two physical spaces that only needed to understand each other and hold hands to achieve that elusive harmony. 

He’d been wrong.

It’s not the earth that feeds the realms. Dimensions aren’t something that can be explained by an elementary understanding of mass and matter. They aren’t some static three dimensional points in time and space. They are universes of their own, expanding, interstitched in a nasty and sticky web of inexplicable physics folding over and back on themselves, forever too complicated to pry apart.

The realms are fed by the conscious universe perceiving itself, the soul, the spirit, whatever you want to call it. Emotions aren’t some grid of faces on a paper, they are infinite, they are cause and effect, the chicken and the egg, projecting forever in a möbius loop human understanding can never truly describe.

He’s going to go insane, he concludes. Here on his bed, on some random weekday, alone in his room. The magnetic pull of his two halves are phasing into each other, becoming imperceivable as the two separate forms he once knew. He’s not even sure that he really exists at this point. 

There is another choice to make.

He thinks back to what he knows about this buried history, Pariah Dark, The Ancients, wonders if they considered this connection, what they knew about how this should happen. Is there a way to do this that is objectively correct? If he knew more would it be easier? Or would it go down just the same? He has no desire to conquer. Only to be a bridge. A tether. An example. To show that this merging from two to one can be peaceful, a shift in perception rather than a violent overhaul. It is unavoidable now. His only wish is to remain recognizable as himself. 

He focuses not on his mind but on his body. He has to rebuild from the ground up or risk losing himself forever. Start small, a beating heart. Vascular systems. Skeletal. Muscular. Take a breath and pump blood into the empty cavern of his skull. Human is what he knows, though he’s never had to think about it quite this way before. His nerves lace through the structures he’s struggling to create, half intuition, half memory. It feels like being a ghost, all projection and thought, a deep and innate understanding. He knows this. He’s existed this way every moment of his short life and he can do it again. He’s alive, his blood is red, his flesh is tangible.

His brain slams back into his body and he promptly throws up.

--

The worlds are connected once again.

Danny’s hands shake as he tries to get a grip on himself. He’s been changed. He can feel it. The Infinite Realms has marked him as he has marked it. The world is flowing through and from him. Energy hums under his skin, and in it there is access to a well so deep he’s not sure it could ever run dry. 

He finally gets it. This is what being a bridge between worlds means for him.

He gets off his bed slowly. Half floating, half stumbling for balance. His instincts are scattered and his breath no longer sits in his body the same.

This change gives him the authority and the power, the perception and understanding to mend the bleeding fracture between dimensions. He will be listened to. He cannot be hurt. His appearance no longer matters, he is what he is, wholly and entirely. He exists as a linchpin. He is the keystone in the arch where one side is living and the other is dead.

Gravity feels so odd. Like someone changed the coefficient.

He sobs and grabs his dresser for support, woozy and unbalanced, a newborn deer walking on unfamiliar legs. He intends to make his way downstairs. Wants to fall into the embrace of his parents. Needs someone to hold him and tell him that everything will still be okay. He looks to the door.

And without moving, he is there.

Breath comes hard and fast as he steadies himself. His perception catching up to the new perspective. His hand is on the handle, he radiates a trail of semi-physical matter with every motion. It will take practice to appear normal again. He’s reminded of his freshman year.

When he finally opens the door, a swirling green wall is all that meets him. He stares at it, the cold vapor of the Realms slipping around and through him.

He knows the observants exist on the other side. He is sure of it as he is sure of anything. They are there to acknowledge the crown above his head. To observe what he has finally made of himself. 

He will tell him that he didn’t want this, didn’t ask for it.

They will tell him that he is lying.

He steps through the threshold.

[wesleysniperking]

Usopp, Representation, and the Black Experience: My Perspective (maybe TL;DR)

Disclaimer: This post reflects my personal interpretation and connection with Usopp's character. I understand that not everyone may share the same perspective, and that's okay. This is just my own take based on my experiences and thoughts about identity and representation.

When it comes to Black characters, I’ve noticed a recurring theme where they often distance themselves from their non-Black friends or take time away due to personal struggles. It’s a reflection of the weight they carry, and sometimes there’s even some regret for doing so. I can think of plenty of shows that have touched on this, and honestly, I get it. A lot of Black people, myself included, feel the need to face things alone, likely because of deep-rooted issues tied to our history, upbringing, and the challenges of navigating predominantly non-Black spaces—especially when tokenism is involved.

I’ve been that person, and in many ways, I still am. My sister and mom often joke that Usopp feels like a Black guy with a lot of “white” friends. They also mention how Black men, especially those in subcultures like the hipster scene, often juggle two social circles. My cousin, a big One Piece fan, is the perfect example of this. Even Jacob Gibson, who plays Usopp in the live-action series, gives off a similar vibe.

I know this might come off as blunt or even as a generalization, but to me, Usopp reflects a part of the Black experience. He’s like the Lando (or Finn) in Star Wars, Link Hayes in The Mod Squad, Noah in Young Riders, and Marcellus in The Originals. He’s the Renee in Ally McBeal, Tucker in Danny Phantom, Black Panther in Avengers, Cyborg in Teen Titans, Gerald in Hey Arnold, James Rhodes in Iron Man, Chris Washington in Get Out, Ben in Night of the Living Dead, and Christopher in Scrubs. He’s that Black guy.

Maybe One Piece could show Usopp as more than just his race, but it’s hard to ignore the connection. And that’s okay. It’s something I’ve been reflecting on for a while, and I wanted to share it.

GIF credit

[skele-bunny]

Thinking about Royal Rain.....

(Royal Rain idea inspired by @hypnoneghoul )

You have this little bratty prince(ss) who thinks he's all that and a bag of chips, and sometimes the ghouls feed into that mindset. Bc it feels good.

Phantom at Rain's feet, just kissing softly and whimpering as Rain's other foot goes between his thighs and kicks up to hit his cunt. Perfect to catch attention and for Phantom to shuffle closer, holding Rain's leg and pathetically hump it like a dog. "I'm sorry, your highness... Thank you for letting me touch you." Always gets another kick up for talking without permission. Almost pathetic. Still, it's nice to have a obedient doll there for Rain to toy and boss around. One command and Phantom is quick to comply.

Aurora and Sunshine being graced to simply touch between his legs, Rory looking up so sweetly as she licks his pussy, face covered in slick. Sunny unable to do anything but squirm as Rain strokes her cock. Just little servants for him to get off with, that's all it is. Rain knows where to get pleasure and all the focus just for him. His little ladies in waiting, if you will. They always make sure he cums as much as wants, and if they're lucky, they'll get one or two out and then allowed to cuddle. IF... He's satisfied with their work and behavior.

But thennnn you have the ones that knock him down a peg.

Sure, Mountain is docile. Usually puts up with Rain's attitude and demands simply because he's cute. All up until Rain hits a certain nerve a few times. Gets bent over the nearest piece of furniture, hands gripping Rain's waist as he's impaled over and over again on Mounty's cock. All Rain can do is lay there for it, hands desperately trying to sign apologies but it's simply ignored as Mountain keeps going.

Dew and Aether have always been the one to tag team Rain, and usually the ones to knock that attitude out. Rain whining as Dew gropes him from behind, watching Aether fuck his ass but never touching his clit despite the pleads. "How's it feel being fucked like a little commoners whore, princess?" Dew squeezing his chest. Eventually they'll trade places but Aether isn't so forgiving. Obviously, he needs a few more rounds in before he gets the full discipline they're trying to give.

You think Cirrus and Cumulus are going to put up with Rain telling them what to do? HAH. Keeps him tied to the floor, wrists bound behind his back, vibe to his clit, and a fucking machine at a slow steady pace. They just ignore him like he's simply a decoration in the room. Makes a mess on their floor and that's when they'll acknowledge him. "You call yourself royalty when this is how you look? Pathetic in my opinion." Even once they pull him off the machine, they're still wanting to play.

Swiss is just a straight ASSHOLE LMAO. He'll tease and tease, matches Rain's energy, but is the one to punish him in a more strange way. Forces him in a maid outfit to clean his room. Rain grumbling as he's on his hands and knees scrubbing before Swiss gets behind him, dragging his fingers up the white fabric. It's so degrading and embarrassing, Swiss whispering filth into his ears before slapping his ass and moving on. The entire time he's just being groped and felt up, teased relentlessly until once he's finished made to strip for Swiss and suck him off until HE'S happy. "I think you look good on your knees, princess. Maybe you need to do this more often."

[lurukifennecfox]

i had an idea that while Halfas can die and become full ghosts it is still hard to kill them

in ghost form the can get survive same as full ghosts (even if the get their head cut off they can just put it back in place) so they are basically immortal-ish there.

in human form they are way more durable than average human but still. they can get hurt more meaningfully than in ghost form and still feel pain so can't exactly shrug it off.

as such they instinctively transform if the damage is bad enough to risk their lives and because the injuries translate to forms if the injuries in ghost form are bad enough they get that block on transforming back to human like you'd get if you tried to put your hand in boiling water.

you can but your survival instincts say nu-huh so you just don't.

my brain also gave me a scene(incomplete and in video format so that's what you get)

** Danny in human form, for whatever reason there happens an explosion near and he's startled and getting, well, blown off so he's hurt from the explosion and mid-flight transforms into Phantom (no one could see that because there's still a ton of fire happening from literally explosion taking place?). **

----------

Danny is desoriented and kinda not feelin' it because duh.

"Ugh" he gets up into a sitting position and finds himself in ghost form, confused, he must have transformed and haven't noticed somehow? someone is calling him.

"Phantom!" someone staggers closer clearly panicked and limping, which makes sense considering the current situation.

"Phantom what happened?? i saw Danny there is he okay???"

Phantom panics a little himself and kinda hysterically laughs "i hope so!" then takes an unnecessary breath to calm down and explains hurriedly standing to his feet. "i portaled him to my lair so he should-"

he was interrupted by the person he was talking to "oh Ancients! are you okay??"

he looks down to where the person is looking to find out he very much looks blown up at the moment exept in green... which he hadn't noticed before and the sight makes him queasy.

he knows he will heal up in a few hours tho, or a day? depends. ouff that hand looks like it barely hangs on how did he use it to prop himself up??? "at least everything's attached, eh it'll be fine in a few hours"

he elects to not think about it and better think about whether or not it's too traumatising to see for him to check up on other people who were in radius (not as close as him, hopefully no casualties)

----------

he will freak out later thinking he actually fully died, because he tried to transform back and couldn't (boiling water thing), but nope he just didn't wait long enough for his body to stich together the very important internal organs.

he should just wait and idk? go socialise since he doesn't look gorey anymore.

[tossawary]

Watching the prequel trilogy all at once makes the differences in Obi-Wan's character from movie to movie even more apparent. Obi-Wan is barely in "The Phantom Menace" as more than "that guy who follows Qui-Gon around" until he kills Darth Maul. He gets surprisingly little character focus, interiority, development, etc., considering his major roles in the following two movies.

And then in "Attack of the Clones", Obi-Wan and Anakin spend most of the movie apart (again). His banter with Anakin is fun and I think not without affection, but can also be read as distracted and dismissive. Anakin says Obi-Wan is like a father to him and Obi-Wan goes to order a drink on the job, the timing of which I found funny as hell. Anakin's first real private conversation with Padmé has him unloading his frustrations with Obi-Wan (on this acquaintance he hasn't seen or spoken to in ten years, who is going through her own shit right now), telling the audience that Anakin personally finds Obi-Wan too distant and critical. So, like, Anakin's own flaws aside, it does look like maybe Obi-Wan was not in a good place to raise a child. (It doesn't help that Obi-Wan's reaction to the clone army in this movie is not more horrified for the poor (at the very least) indoctrinated-since-birth clone soldiers here. Like, uh, he (and the other Jedi) seems weirdly chill with that part in "Attack of the Clones".)

And then we reached "Revenge of the Sith" and, hm, I don't recall the exact context. After rescuing Palpatine from Grievous and killing Dooku, it looks like the war is going to end soon, and Obi-Wan takes the time to smilingly tell Anakin how proud he is, very warm and affectionate. And I had a "Oh, wow, who is this guy? Where did this come from?" moment, because this is NOT really the Obi-Wan we've seen in the past two movies. It's like Obi-Wan Kenobi abruptly came out of the Clone Wars with renewed emotional balance and a personal resolution to more freely express his positive feelings - a writing choice that makes the break-up, you know, actually hit harder when Anakin starts murdering everyone and tries to kill Obi-Wan.

Anakin's shit choices in these movies are still very much on Anakin, of course! But it is amusing to hold "You were my brother, Anakin! I loved you!" up directly against "Obi-Wan Kenobi as Background Character #1" and "exhausted and judgmental older brother, who wasn't ready to become the man of the house, has to go on a work trip again and he'll keep avoiding talking about your feelings when he gets back". It's an incredibly uneven and therefore unintentionally amusing to me depiction / execution of a main character.

[xruiiii-blog]

Hi I’m literally obsessed with this au

I have a couple questions I’m so sorry if I’m bothering you but I’ve been analyzing this comic for way too long

Who is leading mountain to be killed? Who is getting crowned? Why is mountain being killed? Are the rest of the knights/other portraits other ghouls? Who is helping phantom unbury him? Is phantom unveiling him at the end?

I’m so sorry I’m obsessed, your art is amazing and thank you for your time

Thanks for the time and energy you invested into this!!! Wow! I might disappoint you after this haha. But u know! Always analyze and believe in whatever you think it’s the best explanation! I love when ppl have their own understanding of a piece :) that’s why there’s no dialogue

Anyway about the comic…

It supposed to be a simple “once upon a time” kinda thing. A bedtime tell, someone’s small piece of memory, a casual story that’s melancholy. Nobody’s really important, except the little prince and his knight. There’s no deeper meaning other than the lonely prince lost the only person he cares about to a war.

Something about the titan knights is that they don’t care about their identity. Their powers and skills are the things that matters. That’s their identity instead of who that person is under that mask. They are weapons and they like to keep it that way. Meaning that if any one of them dies during the war, a weapon has served its purpose. The others will move on and there’s no sorrow. I don’t want to talk too much about different species lore here it’s a lot…maybe next time :)

However, the two anonymous knights are rather closer to Mountain and Phantom than everyone else. They are also more human-like. They are more sentimental than some others on the team. It’s not anyone’s fault that the titans are this way btw, it’s just how things is. These two knights care about phantom more than the others does spiritually, they kinda understand how close their captain was to the prince and what Mountain meant to him. So they take him to Mount. Usually titans don’t even take the dead body back with them. It’s not like they don’t care, they do, but to them dead body it’s meaningless. No longer serve any purpose. Titans don’t ever grieve, mourn, or anything.

Phantom does. Be glad that he’s even able to contact with the corpse one last time cuz a lot of times soldier’s grave is just an empty tomb. That’s also why he digs. He needs to see it himself in order to let go. He places the veil back to place and sees what he’s familiar with for his whole life. The mere illusion that Mount is still with him.

…

Honestly this whole thing came to me at 2am and I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I feel like its more of a vibe, very vague story and fear of death I didn’t executed it the way I wish I could (skill issue…) anyway my first actual try at drawing comics and it took me 2 miserable weeks(it was okay). I shared this before I have concentrate issue my attention span is short💀…ngl the process it’s challenging and I wasn’t expecting ppl to understand what’s happening or even read it. I didn’t expect myself to finish the whole thing even lol. Glad you like it and look at it with these much appreciation AND letting me know!!! :)) that’s what I was tryna say. 🖤🖤🫶🫶🫶

[dragonzfanfics11]

HEYYYYY, saw you recent post and LOVED THEM. You up for doing SBG with really tired S/O? Example: always napping, even in public. S/O would just like lay on them and nap

⭐️ anon

yesss!!!! I love this idea its actually how I would be like around my partner if I had one 🥲

Warnings- probably spelling errors cuz I'm to lazy to go fix them

◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇

Ashlen

She wouldn't really mind whenever you just fall asleep near her

On her though she might be a little awkward but will never push you off of her

When it's just you two and you just decide to take a nap next o her she might take a nap with you (cuz all these kids need it bro)

In public it really just depends

if there's little people around (and aiden isn't there) she'd take a small nap with you

If there's lots of people she probably would just try her best to keep you up until there in a better place with less people and probably no aiden

Speaking of aiden again I think she'd give him hella glares if he trys to wake you up with a prank or something she's not letting that happen

Especially in the phantom realm she wants you to get as much sleep as you can when your just chilling in the phantom realm she dosent want you to tired more then you are

◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇

Aiden

Itd probably be pretty hard to fall asleep around him but if you do bed think it's so cute!

Buuuuut aiden might pull some pranks on you somtimes when you fall asleep near him

When he dosent though he'd just let you sleep (cuz yall desperately need it fr) and he'd go do his own thing that may or may not be stupid (it 100 percent is)

Though if you fall asleep on him like leaning on his side or your head in his lap thats a different story!

If he dosent feel like pranking you he'd try his hardest to stay still and let you sleep

Even though it's a little hard with his adhd he trys

He most likely plays with your hair when you lay on him to help keep himself occupied and not wake you

If your in public and fall asleep near/on him I think he'd 100 percent just carry you to wherever your going next instead of waking you

◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇

Ben

Hed love to just nap with you all the time

If it's just you two hanging out and you fall asleep on him he's asleep with you

Even in public if there's not many people he'll nap with you

Bit if there's alot of people he probably won't unless the rest of the group is there

Speaking of the rest of the group ben definitely has to make sure aiden doesn't wake you up because aiden would definitely do that -_-

Also he'd be awesome to sleep against, he'd be like a giant warm pillow It'd be awesome I don't blame anyone for wanting to cuddle him tbh

Back on topic lol, I think just like aiden he'd carry you if you fall asleep and they needed to go somewhere, he'd just scoop you up easily and they'd be on there way lol

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Tyler

When it's just you two he'd love to just cuddle and nap with you

Like when you two have a study date at his house and you fall asleep? He's cuddling with you once he finishes, he also makes sure you finish to

But in public he'd probably act annoyed but will never push you away or wake you up

He'll only wake you up when you have to get going or somtimes carry you

He also acts like a guard dog any time you fall asleep and makes sure nobody wakes you up especially aiden

If it's cold out and you fall asleep near him he'll probably lay his jacket over you

And if you lay on him in public he'll put his arm over you to make sure you don't fall or something but still acts annoyed and probably fights with aiden when he teases him

◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇

Taylor

Shed think it's soooo cute whenever you just fall asleep near or on her

No matter where you guys are shell always just admire you when your asleep

If you fall asleep on her when it's just you two she might just play on her phone or something while stroking your hair

if you fall asleep on her in public shel try her hardest to sit still and make sure your comfortable until she has to wake you up

She makes sure nothing will wake you up because she knows you and the rest of the group desperately need sleep fr

Somtimes if your really tired and fall asleep on her in public she'll ask tyler or Ben to carry you

She definitely has a bunch of pictures he took of you sleeping in random places and on her she thinks it's so cute

◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇

Logen

He'll make sure to be quiet whenever you fall asleep near or on him

I fell like every time you fall asleep on him he blushes at least a little bit

In public he trys to let you sleep as long as you can before gently waking you up by like stroking your hair/cheek gently

When it's just you two he will most likely fall asleep with you just cuddled up next to you being extra careful to not wake you

He trys his hardest to not let aiden wake you when you guys are with the group but he'd need Ben's help to keep aiden away

I fell like he'd stroke your hair a lot when your asleep as if you where a cat

Might also offer you his hoodie to use like a blanket some days

◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇

Hope you liked it!!!! I've still got a few more requests to do so expect more posts randomly lol

[oliversrarebooks]

a good grade in being brainwashed: wants and needs

Masterlist

tw: pet whump, bbu-adjacent, dehumanization, conditioning, references to drugging, references to dubcon

He was getting a good grade in being brainwashed, something that is both normal to want and possible to achieve.

"He seems a little clingy, though."

B211's heart sank into his knees. He knew that was one of the absolute worst things a prospective owner could say about him, the very thing his handlers had spent so much time trying to train out of him. Don't cling. Don't be needy. Be affectionate, but only when your owner desires it. Be silent and still and obedient otherwise.

Don't be needy. Don't need. Don't want. Wants are for people. Your only wish is to please your owner.

He didn't miss the nasty glare that the salesman shot him before putting his customer service smile back on his face. "Yes, this one is very affectionate, which isn't to everyone's taste. Perhaps you'd be more interested in this Romantic…"

B211 fought down the whine in his throat as the customer removed her hand from his chin and walked over to one of the other Romantics, A797. He watched as A797 flawlessly executed each position, all with a smile that was just loving enough without seeming desperate. Just the way they'd all been taught.

God, B211 hated him.

B211 knew he could be the best Romantic in this whole damn showroom, if only he could be given a chance. He'd worked so hard at his training and conditioning, absorbing everything thrown at him, always striving to be the best in the room. He knew his quality -- he was eager to please any sort of master in any way they wished, ready and willing to become whatever they wanted him to be. Their lover, their fantasy, their toy, their shoulder to cry on. He was confident he could do it all.

And yet, here he was, left in the lurch yet another day. If things didn't look up, he'd spend another night in his cold bunk. Another night where his training headphones whispered to him about how much he craved touch and affection. Another day where he had to fight down his cravings so he didn't scare off potential owners. Another failure, another denial.

It was enough to make him want to pull his hair out, if that wouldn't absolutely ruin his appeal.

"I think I'm going to talk to your handler about another course of conditioning. I don't know how it's possible, but you've still got too much willfulness in that head of yours."

B211 scrambled down into a kneel, touching his head to the floor, as soon as he realized that the salesman was addressing him. "My sincere apologies, sir. I will endeavor to do better," he said, reciting one of his hundreds of programmed phrases.

"I can tell when a pet's more concerned with his own needs instead of the customer's," said the salesman disdainfully. "Honestly, you could probably do with another round on the Drip, wash that right out of your head. I think that's what I'm gonna recommend."

"Yes, sir," said B211, his inner elbow twinging with the feel of a phantom needle. He knew very well that he should accept whatever medication, training, or punishment he was given, as it was all to make him a better pet. But he hated the way the Drip made him feel, the way his mind was so slow and dim now, compared to --

No, that wasn't right. His mind had always been slow and dim. That's why he was well suited to being a pet. That's what they'd told him, why he'd signed up. He was slow, and dim, and unable to cope with life, unable to pretend to be a person. So he'd done the right thing and signed up. Instead of an endless cycle of pain and disappointment, he'd receive unconditional love and affection from an owner who truly wanted him. All he had to do was follow his training. Simple instructions. Practice these poses. Recite these mantras. Speak politely. Let go of your wants. Let go of your needs. Be perfect.

That was all he had to do.

He didn't actually remember signing up, of course, because the Drip had erased his memories (how many times). It was best for a pet to not remember (what didn't they want him to remember) so he could be blank and empty for his owner to fill with love (what was he before he was blank).

(was he ever loved)

He shouldn't be thinking those thoughts. That's why he wasn't getting bought. Stupid, stupid.

"Well, B211? Do you have a problem with that?" the salesman demanded, pulling him back to reality.

"No, sir."

"Oh, I think you do. I can tell you have something to say. Out with it."

It was a trap. It was always a trap. He'd fallen into it before, he thought, although his memories of those times were hazy and tinged with pain. "I think whatever you and my handler decide for me would be best, sir."

He was being hauled upwards by his shirt, the salesman glaring down at him. "That's your problem. You shouldn't think. You should just get it right."

B211's mind searched for a better answer. Slow, too slow. "I want whatever training I'm given, sir. I want to be the best possible pet for my owner. I trust in my handlers to make me the best pet I can be."

"Better," he sneered.

The ring of a bell indicated another customer had arrived, sparing B211 the salesman's wrath for now. This particular salesman always liked to take it out on the pets when they weren't selling like he thought they should be.

All he wanted was to be touched and loved. Wasn't that what he had signed up for? He couldn't remember, of course, but that's the only thing it could have been. Why didn't anyone see that? Why didn't anyone pick him?

Maybe the salesman was right. Maybe he should go back on the Drip. He was thinking too much. Of course he was right -- his handlers always knew what was best for him.

"Oh, I'm not sure a Romantic is what I'm looking for, exactly," said a voice that was so strangely familiar. "I don't need -- I mean, I don't really have those kinds of needs."

B211 strained to hear the conversation in the other room, beyond the curtain separating the Romantic showroom from the rest of the pet store. That voice. He didn't know why, but wanted to hear more of that voice.

"There are a lot of unfortunate misconceptions about Romantics, and I'd say that the primary one is that they're only for sex," said the salesman. "That's absolutely not the case -- maybe ten years ago, but modern Romantics are so much more. They actually have much of the same programming as our platonic Companions, and even some Domestic capabilities. They're the perfect choice for a busy man who wants a little love in his life."

"Well, I guess it wouldn't hurt to take a look at them…"

The customer pushed aside the curtain leading to the Romantic showroom, and B211's heart stopped.

The man was tall and broad-shouldered, with dark skin and darker curls, and large, sparkling eyes that he could get lost in. He was handsome, very much so, but that wasn't what caused B211's breath to catch in his throat -- he saw many handsome customers. No, there was something about this one that ran deeper than his looks. B211 was seized with an inexplicable, undeniable desire -- this man absolutely had to buy him. This man should be his owner.

(But pets weren't supposed to have desires.)

The customer was staring at B211, too, but not in the way he would prefer. He looked as if he had just seen a ghost.

"Oh, I wouldn't recommend that one," said the salesman. "He's a bit more high maintenance than our other Romantics, and you're looking for a pet that's very independent, right? I'm sure a lawyer doesn't have that much time to spend entertaining a pet, which is why I'm going to recommend this model…"

The customer, the lawyer, let himself be pulled away from B211's case, and B211 was filled with bubbling rage towards the salesman. Something flashed in his mind, a memory, perhaps, of fighting, of kicking and screaming, of having to be held down by four people as the IV was inserted into his arm --

No, that wasn't right. That wasn't right at all. He couldn't hate the salesman, or the handlers, who only wanted the best for him. If the lawyer wasn't a good fit…

He swallowed the lump in his throat. Why was this so important? He'd been passed up by so many people, what was one more to him?

B211 couldn't help but watch the lawyer out of the corner of his eye. Perhaps it was his imagination, but he seemed bored with the other models the salesman was showing him. Distracted. He glanced back at B211, who quickly lowered his eyes to the floor.

"I think I have just the right fit for you!" said a bubbly saleswoman, emerging from the front of the store. She was leading along a man in a slouchy t-shirt and jeans, who was looking around the Romantics showroom in awe, as though he'd never seen so many pets. The saleswoman stopped in front of B211's case. "He's a refurb, so he's available at a discount! He's very affectionate and quite intelligent for a pet."

"Well, he's not bad looking," said this new customer. "Pet, introduce yourself."

B211 snapped to practiced attention. "Hello, sir, my designation is B211, and I'm a Romantic designation with additional Companion training. I enjoy cooking, old movies, and cuddling, and I'm always open to new adventures!"

"Hmm, I'm not sure. He's not really my type. I was hoping for something a little more… demure, do you have anything like that?"

"Certainly, sir, right this way!"

Normally, B211 would be devastated at losing another prospective buyer, but this time, all he could think about was the lawyer. The lawyer who was currently standing in front of the showroom's most expensive pet, being given the hard sell.

"…and he can do anything you want, sir. He'll be there for you when you need companionship, and quiet and out of the way when you need space. He's fully automated and intelligent enough to serve as a personal assistant or run a household. And when it comes to his Romantic skillset… he's very easy to please, and very eager and capable of pleasing others. If this pet is within your budget, I think he'd be the best suited to your needs, sir."

His needs. What were the lawyer's needs? Pets didn't have needs, couldn't have needs. B211 knew he could do whatever that so-called premium model could. But the lawyer probably had more than enough money to go premium, and why would he buy a discounted refurb when he could buy a brand-new luxury model?

"He does seem like an ideal fit…" said the lawyer.

"Would you like to spend a little time with him? I'm sure once you do, you won't be leaving this showroom alone."

"Well… maybe… but I'm still interested in that one. The one I saw when I first came in."

And the lawyer looked straight at B211.

It was impossible, wasn't it? Why would he be interested in B211 when a premium model was an option? Did he actually recognize B211's value? Was that why he'd been so drawn to this man as an owner?

The lawyer walked his way. B211 tried his hardest to read the expression on his face -- an essential skill for Romantics, to be able to read their master's smallest emotions -- but came up short. He couldn't tell what this man was thinking at all.

But his eyes looked kind. And B211 felt…

It was a feeling he couldn't place. It wasn't happy, or aroused, or quiet, or agreeable. B211 suspected it was one of those feelings he wasn't supposed to be having, one that the Drip was supposed to wash out of him.

"Are you sure, sir?" said the salesman, trailing after him. "This one is a refurb, you know. That's why he's on a discount."

"A refurb? Do you know why he was returned?" The lawyer's eyes never left B211.

"Ah, his original owner simply found a new relationship, and was displeased with the amount of attention this Romantic required. He's been wiped of those memories, and we've done our best to train out his unfortunate need for attention, of course, but he'd be a risk compared to our premium models, which can all be customized just for you for only a small additional fee…"

The lawyer wasn't paying attention to the salesman at all as he continued his pitch. He seemed to be weighing something in his mind.

And B211 finally placed what that strange feeling was. Safe. The lawyer made him feel safe. It wasn't something he had felt in training. It was something much older, something he shouldn't remember.

"I want to buy this one," said the lawyer abruptly, cutting off the salesman's patter.

The salesman couldn't hide his shock. "Are you sure, sir? There's no rush. We'd be happy to put a model on hold for you for a small deposit if you'd like more time to make up your mind."

"I've made up my mind. I want this one." The uncertainty on his face from a moment ago was gone, his voice firm. Firm enough that B211 dared to hope.

"If you're certain, then… I'll draw up the paperwork. But keep in mind that we don't accept returns on refurbished pets."

"I won't be returning him."

And the lawyer smiled at B211, actually smiled.

And someone had finally seen him. Someone wanted him. Someone was going to love him.

All he had to do was not screw it the fuck up.

Masterlist

[sweetbunpura]

Phantom Bride event is when Rollo just pulls out the ring he'd been saving this whole damn time and just proposes on the spot.

He is not letting some upstart ghost kill and steal his wife.

(He then pulls Yuu aside afterward, mainly because he did not want his proposal to be so public and is afraid he put pressure on Yuu to say yes. So he asks Yuu, for real, in the privacy of Ramshackle, if she actually wants to marry him.)

The funniest thing would be if Eliza slaps Rollo for interrupting her wedding after he proposes only for Yuu to snap out of her paralysis from sheer anger.

Eliza, slaps Rollo: You disgusting man! You can't demand me to halt my wedding for these fabricated feelings! And that ring is fake!

The room proceeds to get colder.

Idia: LMAO, bad choice lady.

Eliza: Wha- *gets tackled by Yuu*

Yuu: YOU DON'T SLAP MY BOYFRIEND, BITCH! *proceeds to kick Eliza's ass with everyone watching*

Azul: D-Did she just break free by sheer anger alone?

Leona: Holy shit.

Rollo, watching: Oh.

And of course after everything is dealt with, Yuu and Rollo are on their way back to Ramshackle.

Yuu, still in the bride dress and holding Rollo's hand: This was a wild ride.

Rollo, in his groom's suit: Yes. *stops* Yuu.

Yuu: Hmm? What up?

Rollo, pulls out the ring and gets down on one knee: That proposal wasn't how I wanted it to go. I'm secretive, as you may well know, and proposing in front of everyone doesn't sit right with me. *clears his throat* But I want to marry you, i-if you'll have me that is.

Yuu: You saw me kick a ghost girl's ass and you still wanna marry me.

Rollo, smiles: I do love it so when I see you fight.

Yuu: Yes, I'll marry you.

Rollo in this:

And Yuu in this:

[tothesoundofthefreakyclock]

Era IV - V Ghouls HCs (part 1)

Color shows who made what hc

Basics

Phantom and Aurora are siblings with Aurora being the older sibling. Back in the Pits since they were ghoul kits they've been inseparable. They were summoned together. Can be a bit chaotic with each other if left alone together, but the moment Swiss joins in they'll all need to be watched like a hawk.

It took a while for Mountain, Sodo, and Aether to warm up to Copia as frontman since they were used to Terzo

Ghoulettes have girls night every week. They blast white girl bangers all night

Ghouls send Copia the ant with bindle photo when he scolds them to get out of trouble (it always works)

While most ghouls like to play fight, Swiss and Aurora do it the most and it’s usually pretty intense so the others avoid with them unless feeling particularly worked up. You would think they were actually trying to kill each other but no

Cirrus, Cumulus, Sodo, and Swiss watch those shitty reality TV shows to point fun at humans and the awful things they do. This is nearly a weekly thing if any of them have time to hang out with free time.

Cumulus and Cirrus always would send messages with at least one emoticon

We know Mountain is the tallest, but the smallest current ghouls are both Cumulus and Aurora at 5’3”. However, they are not the smallest ghouls of modern day Ghost (that title goes to Mist at 4'10" aka three sauces tall.)

Sodo/Dewdrop

He/they

Summoning day is June 21st, 2015

Favorite animal is pangolins because they look like dragons

Transmasc (ftm)

Went by Dewdrop when water ghoul, but changed it to Sodo when he became a fire ghoul

Middle child energy

He still has some fin-like features on him, but not as much as before. Some water ghouls could have scales like fish, so you'd have to squint to see the patches of scales on Sodo now. They were larger when he was still water. The fire features kinda override it.

Not mean (unless it's Aether /j), just easily irritated

Would never get angry at any ghoulettes. He drinks respect women juice everyday. He most definitely fears Cirrus sometimes

Sometimes joins the ghoulettes with their girls night just to get away from all the chaos, especially after a rough week

Will sell Aether's non-existent soul for a single corn chip

Ok he actually does care about Aether, but he just has limits to his shenanigans.

Since he was transformed into a fire ghoul instead of naturally born like that, the features a fire ghoul would normally have are weaker with him (ex: he doesn’t radiate much heat from his body)

Wants affection and then bites when he’s had enough like a cat

Doesn’t take criticism very well

Aether

He/him

Summoning day is June 24th, 2015

Favorite animal is tigers because of how big they are and goofy they can be at times

One of my three weed smoking girlfriends

Little sibling energy that Sodo is the main victim of

One of the most kindest ghouls you'll meet

He has some knowledge in healing and health, so if any of the ghouls, or anyone who is close to him in general, are sick or injured they go straight to Aether

He does that thing where he gets his hands wet and flings his fingers out to get water on Sodo

Helped take care of and watch over ghoul kits back in the Pits

He is still around the Ministry after leaving Ghost and still hangs out with the others when they're not touring.

If he could wear socks in sandals all the time he would

Very sensitive. Cries at those sad dog ads and donates the Ministry’s money

—

Mountain

He/they

Summoning day is June 19th, 2015

Favorite animal is ram since he has similar horns like them and how tough they are when butting heads with each other

Gentle giant

Has long, dark black hair that is super soft to touch and doesn’t mind the others playing with his hair

Ghoul equivalent to a golden retriever

Like a big brother to Sodo and Aether

Doesn't hunt like the other ghouls. He is able to control his urges, and plus there's already food inside so why bother

Plant dad. Even if you give him a fake plant he'll still love and cherish it. Names them all

Usually will have to stop Sodo from trying to lunge for Aether’s throat

Taller than the average earth ghoul at 7’3”. There were bruises on his face because of walking right into door frames when first summoned. Gets front passenger seat privileges

Keeper of air jail (lifting somebody up if they are causing trouble) Grabbing em by the scruff when the others are fighting

Rain

Any pronouns

Summoning day is July 18th, 2016

Favorite animal is blue marlin because of how fast it can swim and the sword-like appendage on their noses

Likes to keep fishies

Can only sleep when it’s pitch black

Has shark like features (the teeth, tail, sense of smell, etc)

Not shy at all, but just not very social. Possible social anxiety? Yes social anxiety bc projection

Eats the rainbow aquarium rocks like they're Nerds candy.

Mainly sticks around with Mountain since the two have good chemistry.

Gets mad at his own hiccups

Genderfluid

—

Cumulus

She/ey

Summoning day is April 4th, 2016

Favorite animal is mourning dove because of how they coo

Wine aunt

Anxiety. Not too terrible, but it still is awful

Would bring a dead animal inside after hunting and call it her Girl Dinner™

Literal Disney princess. She could sing and birds would fly to her to sing along

Terrified when first summoned. Glued to Cirrus’ side for the first six months

She is one of the sweetest ghoulettes, but she has quite a bit of weird and creepy pictures and items that will freak people out. Her and Swiss send each other cursed images and videos

Very motherly and protective of the others

Loves to wear fluffy, cloud-like clothing

Link to part 2 will be here soon!

[randomthefox]

IT’S OVER!

Surge and Kit are confirmed to be redeemed after the Phantom Rider arc. Even Ian Flynn has given up on them because even he’s treating them like jokes now. 

Do you know what that means? I CAN FINALLY LEAVE! The ONLY thing stringing me along in this stupid comic was that I loved the concept of Surge and Kit and even enjoyed the execution up until issue 56. They were the only thing about the comic I liked after Starline died. But now that the original concept has been officially thrown into the trash, as signalled by Ian Flynn giving up on his original characters now that his idea for them has been completely destroyed by Evan Stanley, I can finally leave. I can finally cut all remaining emotional investment from this comic. It feels like a weight has been lifted off of my shoulders. I no longer feel obligated to participate in the discussion of this comic. I know it’s ass; you know it’s ass. But know, I feel like I can finally accept that and just move on…

Or at least as much as I can while tumblr just censors posts with blocked tags rather than just removing them entirely.

I’ll still get pissed off whenever I see anything to do with IDW Sonic, but I know longer feel the need to read every issue. So I still count this as a win. Hooray for me!!! 🎉🎉🎉

(Unless it’s just a fake out. Where Surge and Kit decide that being heroes isn’t for them by the end of the story and go back to being villains so that Ian can course correct. I wouldn’t even be mad if that happened because it would be hilarious. It would mean Evan’s entire idiotic Phantom Rider arc would be fucking pointless, and that would be hysterical to me).

Oh it's from the new annual lol. Wow that's really asinine. Why are they releasing those pages now of all times? It's pretty much a spoiler for the current storyline. It's like how they released a trailer for the new spider man movie after infinity war.

>"unless it's just a fake out"

Can't tell if this is wishful thinking or addict mentality =P

Can't help but notice they appear to be in Central City. Aka San Fransisco. Aka the level from City Escape. And yet it appears to be populated by animal people instead of humans. Even though that doesn't make any sense and is actively acanonical to the way the world of Sonic was presented as per the Tailstube videos.

It's almost like these comics aren't canon or something.

[liltordle]

designed a stylized (afton-possessed) spring bonnie !!!

[wombywoo]

aftercare ❤️‍🩹

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 207

Danny does not come out of the portal. 

In fact, he’s lost. Very lost. He just wants to go home and is getting scared of everything around him because he doesn’t know what’s going on. But! But he’s found an (admittedly also terrifying) castle or keep or whatever they’re called that all the ghosts avoid!

It never exactly enters his mind that they might have been avoiding such a place for a reason. 

In unrelated news, the first thing Fright Knight sees after his sword was (accidentally) knocked free from its prison is not a blob ghost- they’ve done it a few times over the eternities- but a ghostling. A newborn ghostling, who promptly bursts into tears to his genuine horror. What did he do?!

[bet-on-me-13]

Danny dies every night.

So! Danny's secret Ghost Powers remained a secret for about 6 Hours.

After turning back into a Human, he had immediately gone back to his room and tried to fall asleep, pretending none of it was even real, that it was just a dream. The idea that he had just died was understandably hard to swallow, not to mention the fact he had somehow come back.

All he wanted to do was rest and figure it out later. It was a problem for Future Danny.

Except when he woke up, something was wrong.

He felt Cold, Colder than he had ever been before. It was as if he had a chunk of pure Ice stuck in his Chest, the cold spreading across every part of his body. With a start he realized that his chest wasn't moving at all, either from the beating of his heart or the breaths he was supposed to be taking.

He wasn't breathing. His heart wasn't pumping. The Ice in his chest was the feeling of his heart not pumping, still and unnaturally cold. At that realization, he felt his Heart begin beating again.

He ran downstairs, hoping to get his parents help. He didn't know what was going on exactly, but they must be able to help him right?! They were the leading experts on Undead Biology, they must know how to help him!

When he reached the kitchen, he saw his parents and Jazz huddled together at the table, crying together for some reason.

"Mom! Dad! Jazz! Somethings wrong! I don't know what happened, but last night I-"

He stopped when he saw their faces. Their cheeks were tear-streaked, eyes bloodshot, but the thing he noticed first was the grief and absolutely confusion in their eyes. They were staring at him as if they had seen a Ghost, figuratively of course, and they seemed to he trying to connect the dots in their heads.

"Danny?" Jazz asked in a shaky voice. "Is that you?"

"Jazz?" He asked in return, "What do you mean, of course it's me?"

She looked hopeful for a moment, before his mom stood up.

"No." She said, her voice held a hard edge. "It's not."

Danny almost fell over when she said that. "W-what?" He asked, "What are you talking about Mo-"

"DON'T CALL ME THAT!" She yelled. She gripped the Blaster in her hand tighter, aiming it at him. "I checked everything when we found Danny's body! He had no Pulse, no Brain Activity, and his Ecto Levels were far higher than normal! Danny is Dead! And you killed him!"

"What?!" Danny yelled in shock, "I didn't kill hi-I mean, I didn't kill me-I mean-What are you talking about!?"

This time his dad answered, getting up from the table himself. In his hand was another Blaster. "Danny's Ecto Levels could only have been that high if killed by something with a large amount of Ectoplasm, enough to leave such a mark. The Portal was open for hours last night before we found it and sealed it up, and that's when you got through isn't it!?"

His Dad leveled the Blaster to him.

"No! I'm not a Ghost, it's me! It's Danny!?" He pleaded, "Mom, I always baked you a cake on mother's day! Dad, I helped you clean up the lab the last time you blew it up! It's me!"

"Nice try." His mother said, "Die again, Ecto Scum."

That day, Danny ran away from home.

...

Ever since that day, Danny had been running as far as he could from Amity Park.

After he got out of the house, he tried to find any place he could hide as he figured everything out. His first try was Tucker, but his parents had anticipated that and beat him to the Punch. The same happened when he tried to go to Sam's, he barely escaped that situation alive(?).

At first he tried to stay in Amity, hoping he would eventually find a way to convince his parents of his true identity, so everything could go back to normal.

He abandoned that hope about a week later, when his parents got the local authorities on their side and issued a public service announcement stating he was a Murderer who killed their son, and to contact the Police if anybody saw him. The mindless Ghost they captured and presented on the Local News cemented the publics view on him.

So he ran from Amity.

The first few weeks on the Run were the worst. He wasn't used to surviving on the street, much less evading the Law Enforcement that seemed to keep finding him. He had to constantly stay on the move to keep away from the pursuit of his Parents, the Police, and the weird guys in white suits who had shown up once he passed the State Border.

His new Ghost Powers were the only thing that had let him get away most of those times. He could turn into a Full Ghost whenever he wanted, unlocking all of his powers for the time being, but also seemingly sending up a Beacon to whoever was looking for him. He found it was much easier to use their weakened versions in his Human Form.

As for his Undead-ness, he had mostly figured it out. His body was lying to him. He was Dead, but his Body was just pretending to be alive for his own sake. He didn't need to breath anymore, and his heart didn't need to pump, but they did because he felt that they needed to. He probably didn't even need to eat anymore.

The problem was that it couldn't keep it up when he was asleep. No matter what, every time he fell asleep his Body would die again, and when he woke up he would have to make it Live again.

One of the main reasons he kept getting caught recently was because well-meaning civilians would report to the Police that there was a Dead Teenager under a Bridge, or on a Park Bench, or on one memorable occasion in a Ditch. He would wake up in a Body Bag, escape, and be reported to his Pursuers.

At least his pattern of movement was untraceable so far.

Turns out, the Portal's opening had much more of an effect than his parents had anticipated. The Shockwave in the fabric of Reality when they punched a hole through it (and him), had caused dozens of Natural Portals to form across the Country, opening and closing in random places, soaking the area of Ectoplasm.

As an apparent Ghost, Danny was somehow drawn to these places. Whenever he got to one he felt rejuvenated, as if the stress of the past few days had never happened to him. He could only assume that he was Absorbing the Ectoplasm in the area to feed himself, based on a few of the things he remembered from his parents constant ramblings.

Whenever he would go to one of these places, he would find a bunch of Ghosts. Some were friendly, defying all of his expectations, while others were...less so.

They seemed to resent the fact that he was still half-alive, some simply jabbing insults at him, others straight up attacking him. It seemed that Life was a sore subject among those guys. Or maybe it was him stopping them whenever they attacked humans...that was probably more accurate.

Sometimes the Ghosts he would meet were in the middle of attacking humans to fulfill what they called their "Obsessions". He learned that all Undead, and basically all Immortal Beings, have Obsessions. They are their Sole Purpose in existence, a built in defense mechanism against insanity by giving them something to dedicate Eternity to.

He didn't know if he had an Obsession, but if he did he hoped it was easier to manage than theirs seemed to be. One of them was obsessed with attention, but got it by hypnotizing humans into adoring her. She chilled out after a while. Another loved the thrill of the Hunt, but only wanted rare game. He chased after Danny a lot in pursuit of his "One of a Kind Pelt".

He fought then off and saved people whenever he could, although sometimes it was risky. Many of them were older and more experienced than him, so he was forced to use his Ghost Form against some of them, sacrificing his hiding spot to save the people being terrorized.

He sort of enjoyed it. Whenever he helped people, saved them from danger, he felt better about his situation. As if he was making the best out of the horrible situation his life had turned into by helping as many people as he could. He always felt a bit more motivated to keep going every time he helped anybody.

Maybe that was his Obsession? Helping others? He didn't really think so, he was nowhere near altruistic enough to consider that a possibility. Maybe it was Space? He always felt that same relief when he would camp out away from the Cities. Eh, he'll probably never know.

This cycle of finding a new hiding spot, getting discovered, and running away again continued for a while. Years even.

Danny had Died at 14. He was now 17, and had been homeless for 3 years.

He hoped this next hiding spot would last a bit longer than the previous ones. This one felt different, the Ectoplasm he was wandering towards felt older than the other places he had gone. His previous hiding spots had always been the site of a recent Natural Portal, and the Ectoplasm in the atmosphere would feel Fresh and Wild.

But the Ectoplasm where he was going tasted Older, Stronger, more Set in Stone than the others had. Wherever he wad headed to next, it had been soaking in Ectoplasm for far longer than any other place he had ever been, even in Amity.

He walked up the the Sign at the side of the road, introducing the City to newcomers.

"Welcome to Gotham City" it said.