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#Hospital Ghost Photo
myhauntedsalem · 1 year
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Hospital Ghost Photo
Fort Douglas Hospital – Salt Lake City Utah
Supposedly an apparition of a person wearing a straitjacket. He wasn’t there when the photo was taken.
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secondhand-sin · 3 months
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hi so fun fact I like to ghost hunt with my dad as a lil hobby, so I thought I’d share some of my favorite pics I’ve taken at spooky locations :)
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Left to right: Yorktown Memorial Hospital (TX), Broken Bow Asylum (OK) and Worley Hospital (TX)
And a bonus pic I took at the broken bow asylum bc I thought it was unsettling, but in the aesthetic way:
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ghostlytales · 11 months
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The Ghosts of Lima Tuberculosis Hospital
The Lima Tuberculosis Hospital in Allen County, Ohio closed its doors in 1972 and has since been abandoned. Despite this, the hospital has become a popular destination for urban explorers and ghost hunters who are drawn to the eerie old building. It is said that if you go into the basement of the tuberculosis hospital at night, you can see apparitions of dead bodies on the floor and ghosts of former patients wearing nightgowns. Yet the most common sightings are of shadow figures that dart in and out of the rooms and have been known to follow visitors as they explore the hospital grounds.
One urban explorer who was willing to risk a ticket uploaded this picture to a website for abandoned buildings after his most recent visit to the hospital. The other photos submitted contained no other evidence of a black figure or any ghostly activity.
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the--abditory · 1 year
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🏚️ empty rooms with empty chairs 🏚️
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went ghost hunting in an old asylum building the other night, it was so active and i got some really cool photos
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bejeweledblondie · 8 months
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Simon “Ghost” Riley Headcannons
A/N: these are loosely inspired from real life experiences I’ve had living on a military base, these men have a on & off switch it’s crazy
Simon “Ghost” Riley x F! Reader
Warnings: NSFW
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• Simon first saw you while he was in the States for a training exercise, he was out at one of the local bars with some of the other soldiers he was with
• Soap had actually asked for your number first & since he was so intoxicated you turned him down
• Simon apologized for Soap & that’s how you met
• he did have a heart attack when he found out there was a bit of a age gap between you two but quickly got over it when he realized how mature you were
• it was a long distance relationship at first (from personal experience it sucks in the beginning)
• there were times when he couldn’t talk due to the risk of potentially exposing his teams location so you had to write letters every now & then
• you cried constantly whenever you saw some horrific news in the paper about what was going on overseas, the anxiety was awful
• but when he returned the reunions were euphoric
• you have a bottle of his cologne & aftershave so you can always feel close to him
• and you’d spray your perfume on the letters you sent so he couldn’t always smell the paper when he was missing you
• it took him sometime to open up to you about what had happened to him in his past, & your respected that
• when he first met your family, he was shocked by all the support he had received from them
• he asked your parents to marry you the first time he met them & showed them the ring too (ofc they said yes)
• he proposed to you in private after a nice dinner, he got choked up during the proposal
• your dad specifically was elated, he got to brag at how bad ass his son in law is
• your mom if she’s a teacher, had her entire class send cards, candy, anything they’d need in care packages Soap nearly cried when he opened the sweetest letter from a little girl (this actually happened irl my mom’s class did this & one guy got really choked up)
• Simon always would be your fiercest protector
• since he’s like an freakin tree he will guide your head with his bear paw of a hand in crowds
•he CANNOT sit with his back facing the door it stresses him out
•this man is strapped 24/7 whether that be a knife, bear spray etc. he’s ready
•he has a trauma kit in his car because “you never know”
•Simon is 1000% one of those apocalypse preppers you have freeze dried food, medicine, water, etc. he’s always on edge
• he sleeps with a damn rifle next to y’all’s bed
• you have a whole security system too
• your guy’s apartment is impeccable like you could eat off of the floor
• hell your guy’s bed has damn hospital corners
• Simon adopted a cat so you don’t feel as lonely when he’s deployed
• He’s your chonky boy & you do send plenty of photos to Simon when he’s deployed
• Gaz & Soap tease him about him living his “cat dad” life
• you start trying for a baby two years into your marriage
• Simon does fall victim to the “curse of the infantry” (which is not a negative thing btw it’s a running joke that infantry soldiers have all daughters) he makes girls
• he was deployed during your pregnancy & was worried sick he nearly missed the birth of your daughter
• that little girl is the most well protected baby in the whole world, the Task Force gifted him not just baby stuff but damn security for the nursery
• He watches your baby from his phone in the nursery on deployment, he was silently crying once when he was watching you sing a lullaby to your baby girl
•Price had to comfort him father to father
•In reality Simon has a very hard cold exterior at work for the sake of keeping his mental health for the profession he’s in but deep down he’s always held a soft spot & your relationship just brings it out
✨NSFW ✨
• there is a big size difference between you two & it drives him insane
• the first time y’all had together he didn’t want to break you in half
• when he returns from deployment y’all go at it like rabbits for multiple rounds, your poor pussy was so sore afterwards
• has a massive corruption & daddy kink
• he’s an ass man I don’t make the rules here so any position where your ass if the focal point is his favorite
• y’all have made so many sex tapes for him when he’s deployed, he has a whole folder on his phone & jerks off to them in the bathroom or the porta potty (it’s a canon event, trust me) to them
• he lets your cockwarm him constantly when you’re on the couch, when he’s working, hell y’all had even fallen asleep like that
• I know people say he has a Prince Albert piercing but alas per army regulation that is safety risk I think it’s more likely he’d use a cock ring on you
• during a military ball you two snuck off & fucked in a supply closet
• he couldn’t wait to get back to the hotel room after seeing you in your gown, it was red his favorite color
• and he just looked so fucking good in his dress uniform, that was the night you totally conceived your baby girl
• he groans into your ear when he cums & he’ll use his body to just eclipse yours
• “one more baby girl” & “c’mon pretty girl use your words tell me what you want”
• is a sucker for babydoll lingerie it brings your innocence & triggers his corruption kink
• moral of the story Simon Riley fucks
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deadsetobsessions · 20 days
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Sea Cryptic!Danny Phantom- pt. 8
If I had a nickel for every time I’ve been to the hospital in the past three years, I’d have enough money to buy a bag of skittles from Target. Most of it wasn’t for me though lol I’ll add this onto the list in a bit, but I tend to do that from my desktop but I’m still currently attached to an IV drip. I’ve also never been this hydrated in my life lmao
——
Danny poked a puffed up pufferfish. The poison floated through his ghost form and did nothing but give him a little zap. Danny chuckled, wiping away a bit of oil that had gotten onto the fish from a nearby oil spill. Jesus fuck. Danny knew that bald headed, easily drawn Vlad wannabe from across the river would do something terrible to Gotham’s waters (not that it needed help being atrocious to Danny’s clean water appreciation).
The puffer fish- Danny gave up on understanding Gotham’s water ecosystem, having realized that it was a cursed mix of saltwater and freshwater and swamp- gave a fearful little wiggle and Danny let it go, turning to the oil particles floating around.
Danny took out his phone.
“Danny? Why the hell are you calling at three in the morning?”
Danny raised a hand and blasted out some ice, gathering the oil up. “Hey Sam. If I got you into contact with Poison Ivy, do you think you could team up to get rid of Lex Luthor’s new holding company in Gotham?”
“Danny, are you asking me to commit an act of ecoterrorism?”
“That’s not even the weirdest thing I’ve ever asked you to do.” Danny placed a hand on the ice mass and flew it, the oil, and himself across the river to Metropolis.
“Deal.” Sam’s voice gets further away as she pulled her phone from her ear. “I’ll text Tucker, see if he could futz with Luthor’s taxes. I heard her doesn’t even give his workers a livable wage, and that’s so not gonna fly.”
“Perfect! Thanks! We could totally meet up and hang out with my new friends!”
“Hah! That Tim guy? The one that wanted you to introduce Phantom to him?”
“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, goth girl.”
“Sure, dork. I’ll swing by Friday?”
“Sure! Want me to pick you up?” Danny phased through Lex Luthor’s frankly ridiculous amounts of security measures, still completely invisible and towing a giant mass of oil covered ice.
“Cool. Now hang up. I actually need sleep.”
“Ah, you must be dead tired. I get it.”
Sam hung up, and a second later, Danny got a pic of her holding up a middle finger with her signature purple nail polish.
Danny stared down at the sleeping billionaire. Gross. He let his face re enter the visible spectrum and lowered the temperature of the room drastically. Luthor groaned, waking up as he shivered like a hyped up chihuahua.
Danny bared his teeth, glowing green skin reflecting the black holes of the universe and imploding stars and burning planets as he leaned towards the frozen two bit villain.
“RESPECT THE PLANET,” Danny snarled. He unmelted the invisible ice as he simultaneously made the oil visible, the entirety of the oil spill coating every single inch of Luthor’s penthouse bedroom. Danny winked out, but not before snapping a quick picture of Lex Luthor’s absolutely covered in his company’s oil spill.
If Danny had made sure that there were fish droppings mixed in with the oil… that was his own damn business.
——
Danny floated over to a brooding Batman.
“Do you have two hundred dollars on you?” Danny asked in lieu of a greeting.
Batman grunted a yes.
“Two hundred dollars for a photo of Lex Luthor being hit with karma.”
Batman instantly handed over the cash and received a printed out photo of Lex Luthor (in his Lexcorp pjs) covered by fossil fuel.
"Is this..."
"The oil from his oil spill? Yes."
Batman stared at the picture.
"Why was this more expensive than ID'ing corpses?"
"Cause it's funnier. And dead people deserve more consideration than a egg looking ass polluting everything he touches."
Superman zoomed into the space in front of them, face eager.
"I heard you had something about Luthor?"
Danny figured that Batman probably contacted the hero, and confidently said, "$200 for personal use, $300 for commercial use."
Superman quickly got together three hundred dollars in cash and quickly forked it over. Danny gave him another physical copy of the photo and a usb drive with the photo in a digital format.
"I am so pinning this up." Superman muttered.
"Get out of my city." Batman said flatly. Superman waved a hand, beamed at Danny, and left.
"Did you know Gotham's waters is a mixture of freshwater, swamp, and saltwater habitats?"
Batman grunted.
"Also, please stop stalking Danny Fenton. It's odd."
Batman swiveled his head over. "What."
Danny stared him down. "Stop. Stalking. Innocent. Bystanders. Or else I will recreate the phrase "drowned rat" with you as the subject."
Batman stilled.
"I don't kill, by the way. I can, however, dunk you in the sea and lift you up like a goth version of Simba."
Batman relaxed minutely. "I can't."
"And why not?"
Batman gave him a despairing look. "Have you met my children?"
"... Point."
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peachesofteal · 4 months
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Simple Math / Part Nine
Simple Math masterlist
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Ghost/Soap/female reader 4.1k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: 18+ MDNI. Graphic descriptions of domestic violence. Medical chart from a SANE EXAM. Simon's family history, trauma. Brief sexual content. Hospital setting, nurse!reader, medical inaccuracies. Heavy emotions. Scars. Reader in pain. Hurt/comfort. Kate is a dog with a bone. Penny is cute. POV switches. Simon and Johnny make a discovery, and a promise.
You can’t breathe.
The air is too thin, too tight, and you stand, silent, in the foyer of the home that you’ve been invited to.
A clock ticks on the wall. You count each second, waiting. 
You should leave. You should run. 
Simon’s footsteps echo above your head, already up the stairs with your first bag and work backpack.
He said to make yourself at home, but you can’t move.
The foyer is the foyer of a family. There is a hall tree with little shoes scattered beneath it, a tiny, pink backpack hanging on the hook. Too many wellies to count, all in pastel colors, matching a small yellow and green rain jacket that’s folded on the stairs. There’s a black hoodie, a black jacket, and a green on the coat rack, hung haphazardly with a toss. Men’s sizes, and you notice two pairs of trainers next to one pair of black boots, and two crayons hide, peeking out from under the bench, one blue, one purple, so worn down they’re almost half gone.
A home. A family. 
“Hey, so up-“ You flinch. The jolt has you stumbling, one misstep over another, and he tenses, prepared to steady you, careful hand outstretched, but not encroaching.
“Sorry.” You shouldn’t be here. 
“No, I’m sorry. I know better.” You blink, and the silence is heavy, weighted down like bricks at the bottom of a river. 
He’s still wearing the mask. 
 “Can I… give you a tour?”
“S-sure.”
You lose your breath again in the kitchen.
Simon turns away to the sink, loading dishes into the dishwasher as you stare at the fridge and its collage with a tight chest. It’s covered; photos, invitations, magnets, notes, finger painted masterpieces. You step closer, studying, noticing the way they all fit together, mix matched perfectly, and even in the pictures, the three of them glow effortlessly, too sweet and smiling, happy. Together. A family. A perfect unit.
Your nose tingles, and you blink back the tears that fight forward, wiping away the two that escape and trickle down your cheek. You don’t know why it overwhelms you, why it fills you with grief.
What is it like, to be loved like that? To have a family, like this? 
Get it together. You’re a guest in their house.
It’s too much, and you chastise yourself for getting so emotional over nothing, over something stupid.
You need to be alone. 
Dry sandpaper scrubs the back of your throat when you swallow. “Simon?” He turns, concerned, glancing at the fridge and then back to you, drying his hands on a towel.  
“What is it?”
“Can I… I’m sorry. I’m… tired.” You try to explain your needs but it’s awkward on your mouth, uncomfortable. His expression creases with sympathy.
“Of course, c’mon. I’ll show you.”
“Alright, one more step.”
“’m sorry.”
“You don’t have anything to apologize for, bun. You’re alright.” In the back of your mind, you’re registering Simon’s warmth, the wilted lean that has you tipped into him, slow steps on the stairs, one by one as you fight to stay upright. He’s warm, and pillowy… the kind of comfort you could sink into, disappear inside for a while. It sounds so… nice.
But your shoulder is throbbing. The pain combined with the emotions swirling about in your heart has you on the verge of tears, top teeth dug into your lip, and your molars grind against one other with each step.
“It’s just at the end of the hall.”
You shouldn’t be doing this. Even now, after agreeing, getting in the car, getting yourself here… the desire to bolt runs hot under your skin, buzzing inside your skull, an insistent need.
You’re in their house. Where they live. With their baby. 
What if he comes back? What if he hurts them? 
“Hey.” Simon says your name slowly, ducking down to get your attention. Fuck.
“Sorry, I’m just… exhausted.”
“I’m sure. It’s right here.” He opens the door to a room, flicking on a light switch. The walls are a sage green, a gentle hue that matches the bedspread, framed photos organized into a gallery wall, pictures of smiles and laughter, a tiny Penny in Simon’s naked arms, a candid shot of Johnny in full military regalia, the three of them together somewhere, hiking, with Pen snuggled in a papoose on Johnny’s chest. The bed is the centerpiece, a massive king size piled with pillows, and it looks so inviting, so soft that you want to collapse into it right here and now.
“Wow.” It’s the best you can do, considering the screeching agony vibrating in your shoulder. You try to breathe through it, but the pain only shortens your draw.
“Yeah, it’s our old bed. Very comfortable.” He puts your other duffel down by the dresser, and you try not to dwell on the idea of it once being theirs, where they slept, where they’ve loved one another, held each other, their child, their- “It’s got its own bathroom, just through here.” He’s on the other side of the room, turning on a light that is far too bright, and you squint, jerking away with a gasp. Are you getting a migraine too? “Shit, sorry.” The room spins. You stumble towards the bed, limbs heavy, head full of cement, wooziness blurring your immediate sight. You’re disjointed, a mess of pain and disorientation, and you cover your eyes with a palm.
“Sorry, I think… I think I’m getting a headache. My shoulder-“ it slips out before you can stop yourself, and even with your eyes closed, you know Simon is staring at you, picking you apart with his eyes.
“Your shoulder?” You’re on a runaway train now. It has no brakes. No destination. It just barrels down the tracks, unable to stop for rational thought or pleas of mercy. It has no plan, and it does not heed you. You’re helpless. Hopeless. Lost. Reaching out for a light in the dark, a rope, a life vest, and a sob breaks through to the surface.
“It really hurts.”
“It hurts?” His voice cuts, tone worried. “Which one?” You use your good side to point, shakily.
“I’m sorry. I’m s-sorry.” You try to tell him, try to explain that you don’t mean to cry, or be emotional. You don’t mean to be making a fuss. You’re not supposed to be a problem.
A warm hand lays atop your thigh, thumb rubbing into your scrub pants.
“Sweetheart, you’re in pain. You don’t have to apologize for crying.” Your vision blurs, thick with tears, and fingers gently probe along your shoulder cuff. When you flinch, he swears. “Shhh, alright. Easy.” He’s gentling a spooked horse, carefully feeling along where you ache as you cry through it, unable to stop. “I’m going to go get some ice. We can… wrap it up, if you think that will help?”
“Ye-yeah, okay.” His steps fade, and you try to get your top off, sliding the arm that doesn’t hurt underneath your turtleneck, which is confined by the rigidity of your scrub top.
When you try the other one, the pain is so sharp, a cry bursts from your lips, and Simon sprints up the stairs. How did it get so much worse between the beginning of your shift and now? 
“What happened?”
“I can’t… I can’t get my shirts off.” You uselessly tug at the hem, eyes half open, letting it fall from your fingers, stuck in a loop, frantic movements matching the increasing pace of your lungs.
“Can I help?” His face is lined in concentration, and you spot an icepack on the bed now, with a sling, and a wrap. They’re prepared. Must come home with a fair number of injuries. “Bun, are you with me?” You sniffle and nod. What choice do you have? What choice do you ever have? The pain is too much. It’s all too much, and it boils over until you need to get the shirts off, not caring that it will expose you, or show Simon the very details you’re always trying to hide. You’re too far lost now, too far gone.
If you’re here, in their home, shouldn't you let them see? Shouldn't you let them know? 
The truth is terrifying, the reality of the trust you have in them. You know Simon won’t hurt you, instinctively. You feel safe here, in their home, their old bed, and when he looks at you, you show him, just for a second, the fractured mirror that is your reflection. You show him the pain and the rage and the fear, you give him everything. You shove the girl in the mirror forward, you force her into the sun and you hold her face to the light, trying not to sob as she screams at you in protest.
Just for a second.
“Okay.” He nods, and then cups your cheek. “You’re okay, sweetheart. I’ve got you.” You nod with tears that sting, and then you slowly pull away, slipping back into yourself, hiding the girl in the mirror away, making more promises to her that you’re not sure you’re going to keep.
“We’re going to put this one,” He slowly, carefully lifts the arm with the bad shoulder until it’s resting on his own, “right here. That alright?” A whimper builds, but you give him another nod, breathing through the anguish. There are a million little needles in your shoulder, all stabbing you over and over, ripping and gnawing at the cartilage, or the bone, or the muscle… you can’t be sure. “I’m going to bring your scrub top up now. Is this okay?” his fingers peel it from the turtleneck, and when he gets to your head, you incline your neck, more tears rushing forth.
“Yeah.” You whisper, a tired, pained moan, falling from your lips without permission.
“I know it hurts; I know. Almost there, try to breathe.” He soothes you, and the top slides towards him along your arm. He pulls it free, throwing it on the floor somewhere, his hands returning to your thighs.
“Sorry.” It’s automatic, ingrained. A reaction to pain, to fear, to the idea of being a burden, something that haunts you, every day. He ignores it.
“Ready for the next?” The turtleneck comes less easy, but the two of you are in sync like dance partners. The pain shoots up your arm when you move your neck again, and Simon wipes a few tears from your cheek, carefully leaning you back into the pillows and pulling the comforter down.
There’s a sharp intake of breath, the raw edge of surprise, horror, you’re sure, and you close your eyes. You can't look at him, when you know what he sees. You know what you look like. A roadmap of foolishness. Of weakness. You know the scars are plainly on display, still raised, still ugly. Like you.
He says nothing, only sits at your side, bed dipping with his weight. “I’m going to take your shoes off too, okay?” He narrates and asks for permission with each touch, pulling your sneakers free, satisfying thunk of each one hitting the floor, and then moves on to sliding the ice pack underneath you, wrapping it firmly but not too tight, ensuring it stays in place. He’s tender and slow, thoughtful, your eyes fighting to stay closed, brain and body starting to drift off into uncomfortable sleep. “Not yet, sweetheart.” There’s a rattle, two pills being deposited into your hand.
“What are these?"
“Paracetamol.” He turns the bottle, label out, word coming into focus enough to be verified, and you swallow them down with the glass of water in his outstretched hand.
“Thank you.” The croak stays lodged in your throat, and his eyes crinkle, the sign of a smile.
“Get some rest.” It’s comfort he gives you, leaning forward, pressing mask covered lips to your forehead. Comfort that doesn’t elicit a flinch or a sense of wariness, and you bask in the shine of the sun on your skin, holding tight to it, slipping into a dreamless sleep.
“Banky.” Pen demands, hands outstretched.
“No binky, it’s lunch time. Lunch.” Simon makes the sign for lunch, L shaped pointer finger and thumb, circling the corner of his mouth. He does it a few times, accompanied with the word again and again until Penny huffs and leans back, eyes wide. “You try. You try, lunch.”
“No!” She shrieks, and he shushes her, scattering some banana puffs across her tray.
“Shhh Pen. Bun is sleeping, remember?”
“Bunny seep?” She gives him the sign for sleep, or her sign at least, a palm dragging down her face followed by very dramatic closing lids. “Seep?”
“Yes, sleeping.” Simon makes the sign to acknowledge she was correct. “Good job.” He gives her a thumbs up, and she smiles, sweetness melting away some of the tense worry that's taken up in his heart.
“Puff?” She holds one out to him, but he shakes his head, pointing at her mouth.
“For you. Eat them, eat your puffs.” He signs along with the words, and she mimics him, food in hand, eyes lighting up when she finally makes it in her mouth.
He glances towards the stairs. You’re in the guest room, far enough away that Penny’s noise shouldn’t wake you, but still he tries to keep her preoccupied, distracted from making a fuss.
He wants you to get as much sleep as possible, this morning’s discovery of your shoulder unsettled him more than he’s frankly comfortable with, and the image of your swollen, battered face and neck leers and taunts. 
She’s safe now. She’s here. 
“Dada.” Pen calls, and he smiles, leaning forward to brush his lips across his baby’s soft skin, wispy curls tickling his nose. 
“Love you, baby girl.” He signs it too, and she beams.
“Luh.” It’s supposed to be love, and though the word is a struggle, the sentiment is the same. He doesn’t care that she’s not quite got it yet, he’ll take every word, every syllable he can get. These moments, each moment with his child, Johnny’s child, theirs… is a gift, one he never thought he’d have until Johnny. A privilege.
His phone vibrates with a text message.  
>Simon
>Give me a ring when you get a chance. On the black cell.  
“Thought you were on vacation?” Kate sighs, click clack of keys echoing in the background.
“I am, but if I’m too idle I start to go crazy. The wife likes it when I have a project.” Simon pauses, cocking his head. Penny’s feet kick in the highchair, baby spoon banging against the plastic tray.
“Hang on, Kate.” He drags a kitchen chair over in front of her so he can sit, pinning the phone between his shoulder and chin to twist the lid off the applesauce pouch. “Shhh, here you go." Penny gurgles with a grin at the taste of the fruit, and he smiles back at her. "So, what’s the new project then?”
“The nurse.” Simon’s eyes dart to the floor above his head.
“It’s not a good time.”
“I can talk, you can listen.” She brushes him off, sipping something with ice and then continuing. “I found it hard to believe that a civilian would be able to scrub their footprint like this, so I did a little digging. The more digging I did, the worse my fixation became.” Like a dog with a bone.Simon holds his breath. “I just needed a key, and with those photos you provided, well, things just started unraveling.”
“Kate.” He growls because he can’t manage anything else. He’s trying to keep himself still, heart pounding in his chest. Penny coos, like she notices the shift in her dad’s demeanor, and he immediately attends her, thumbing at a smear of applesauce on her cheek.
“I found a SANE exam from a few years ago. Small hospital in southern Colorado, right over the border from Texas. Patient’s name is Jane Doe, but the photos are almost an exact match.” His stomach lurches, dark clouds shadowing his vision, world splitting into blood and rage. Violence.
He didn’t want to be right.
He wanted to it to be anything, anything but this.
Who? 
Is it the same person that choked you? Beat you? Tore your shoulder damn near out of its socket? 
His gaze drifts to Penny.
They'll need to loop Price in, immediately. 
“Can you send it to me?”
“It’s already in your email.” She speeds past, eagerly. “There’s more. I used the photo to run facial recognition on archives in neighboring states and got a host of hits from Texas. You’ll have to visually confirm, but if I’m right, I’ve got positive ID on your girl.”
“How?”
“School. She graduated high school a year before the rest of her class, ended up with a full scholarship to Rice University in Houston, Texas. Went on to get a bioscience degree and graduated from Rice early.” Pride flutters beneath his ribs, honeyed and heavy. Their smart girl. “She ends up at a different school for pre-med but drops out before the first year ends. Not sure what happened but she started an accelerated nursing program, and breezed through it. You should see her transcripts. I don’t think this girl has gotten less than an A+ on anything since kindergarten.”
“Send them over.”
“Already done. After that, she starts work at a local hospital, and then… nothing. Her paper trail stops. Her job disappears. She’s a ghost except for the sealed court records, and now the Jane Doe medical chart, but that didn’t happen until later. The aliases she’s used over the past few years, they’re in the wind. It’s really quite impressive. She’s either got a connection somewhere, or she’s CIA.” Kate is animated, talking quickly, and he interrupts her to get to the question that’s weighing on him, brushing off the latter immediately. You’re not a honeypot. He spots those a mile away.
“You know her name, then. Her birth name?”
“I do.” She’s silent for a moment, and then she gives it softly. First, middle and last.
He closes his eyes. He tries to imagine you as a girl, on the playground, playing tags with other kids, all of them shouting your name, or as a teenager, in a fight with a parent, one of them yelling your name. He pictures you as a uni student, with your friends, laughing and having a good time somewhere, one of them hollering your name over too loud music. You’ve had a whole life with that name, a whole story. You were a person with that name, and he tries to imagine the way it would sound on your tongue, on Johnny’s, even his.
You’re a ghost now, will you let them bring you into the light?
Will you let them help you reclaim it; the way Johnny helped him reclaim his own?
Kate subtly coughs on the other end of the line.
“Thanks, Kate.”
“You’re welcome. I’ll keep digging. Check your email when you get a chance.”
“Will do.”
“Oh! And the hotel, I sent that paperwork to your email as well.” He thanks her, again, tells her to try to enjoy her time off and hangs up just as Penny starts to fidget, unhappy with being in the highchair for so long without attention.
“Alright, lamb. Let’s get you cleaned up, hmm?” He pulls her free, showering kisses all over her cheeks and neck that make her giggle. “Can’t be wearin’ your applesauce and pajamas over to John and Lou’s, can you?”
Johnny is anxious. Simon can see it a mile away, even before he gets in the room, he notices how he is fidgets, unspent energy and too much time to dwell culminating in an unsettled state.
So, when he kisses him first thing, he makes it long and slow. He drags Johnny’s bottom lip between his teeth, carefully taking his time until he’s sure his partner is half hard beneath his hospital gown and blanket.
“Si.” Johnny groans, and he relents, pulling away to cradle his face between his hands, taking him in, every line, every fleck of gold in his blue eyes, soaking up the healing, healthy glow that glimmers in his skin.
His doctor says it won’t be long now, until he can come home, and Simon is counting the days.
To have everyone, under one roof, feels like a fever dream.
“Missed you.” Johnny noses into his neck, and Simon reciprocates with a kiss to his temple, his cheek.
“Missed ye too.” He pauses, squeezing his hand. “Pen?”
“Alright. Grumpy this morning. Think she wanted to see you.” She did, he knows it, but he tries not to pile it on. Johnny knows their daughter misses him, as much as he misses her. They’re two peas in a pod, best friends, halves to a whole. They’re both suffering. “Went with Lou and John fine. I’ll bring her in the morning.”
“Good.” He nods, tilting his chin for another kiss, and Simon gives it without hesitation, basking in the warmth and familiar feel  of his skin.
When he clears his throat, he pulls away with a sigh. “How is she?”
“In pain. Shoulder is nearly torn out of the socket, and her neck is in poor shape. I had to help get her into bed, she couldn’t get her shirt off. Emotionally she’s… still got the walls up, but she let them slip for a second last night, before she let me help her. And I caught her crying in front of the fridge. Think the photos of Pen got to her somehow.” His stomach twists, new, horrifying possibility dawning on him. Do you have a child somewhere? 
“Did she get any sleep?”
“She hadn’t come down when I left to take Penny, so I assume so.”
“Good. She needs it.” Simon agrees. After injury, after trauma, body and mind need so much more care. More rest, more nutrients, water, protein. More love.
“Kate called.” He bites the bullet, fingers flexing against his knee. “She found a loose end and tugged it.” Johnny straightens. He’s every bit the solider, even laid up in bed. Waxy, soft features turn razor sharp and focused, except instead of his practiced steadiness, he’s chomping at the bit.
“Tell me.”
Simon does. He tells him everything Kate said, almost verbatim. Johnny’s face changes from worried to enraged when he finally gets to the medical chart.
“No.” Johnny’s whisper is faint, thin, papyrus. Brittle and broken, almost washed away, and Simon doesn’t blame him. The chart is horrific for them, was horrific for him earlier, turned his stomach until he thought he’d be sick.
He’s killed. He’s tortured. But to be there when Johnny revealed the handprinted tender skin on your neck, to be there when you cried out in pain last night, when he saw the scars on your body, the cigarette burns that were so familiar, to look at these photos and know that you’ve been brutalized beyond belief, makes his vision run red and his heart ache.
There’s a ghost in these photos. A different girl, but the same, a glimpse of what he saw last night. Still their bunny, their girl. He can see her, through the broken blood vessels and compound forearm fracture. He can see her past the swollen cheekbone and broken nose, the fresh burns on your stomach and torso. The doctor’s notes indicate that you said you were mugged, and sexually assaulted, but refused to finish the SANE exam and took off.
He's not surprised. 
The first time he saw the burns on your naked skin, he swore he could his mother’s screams, and for the hundredth time today, Simon thinks of her. He wonders, if she ever went to a hospital, if she ever begged anyone to help her, or them. He wonders if someone saw what was happening, how she was slowly disappearing, sinking in on herself, and tried to help. He wonders if she felt as alone as you seem to. If she too, became a ghost.
He looks at these photos and cannot fight the pain, the memories.
“Oh, Si.” Johnny cups his cheek, thumb soothing softly across his skin, trying to wipe away the tears that fall. He can’t stop them, not now, and Johnny does not ask, only holds him through it, lets him cry into his hands, pain and suffering of a small, frightened boy coming out of his body in broken sobs.
He won’t fail you. Not like he did her.
After minutes turn long, he takes a deep breath, pressing his lips to Johnny’s palm, and utters a promise as cold as death. 
“We’ll kill them. Whoever it is.”
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azulhood · 4 months
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Jazz was, at her core, a pessimist.
Oh sure, she wanted the best outcomes and strived to always see the best in people. But listening to her parents talk about and share crime scene photos of someone who was brutally murdered and who may haunt the place they were headed to while true crime podcasts played instead of road trip tunes as they traveled to whatever graveyard had caught their interest had dulled young Jazz's faith in humanity.
Jazz still had memories of a young her standing in an abandoned insane asylum (or abandoned hospital, or old house, or graveyard, or whatever place they dragged her too) holding a small torch with shaky hands and begging to leave because she was terrified "Can we go? Please? this place is scaring me" only to be told "In a minute Jazzy, we down want the ghost getting away."
They had settled down after Danny was born, choosing to stay in one placed instead of traveling all over the country. She still expected them to unexpectedly announce that they were going on the road again, she had plans in case they did (saying she'd stay behind with the van to take care of Danny was better then both of them getting used as ghost bait) But surprisingly they didn't.
And Jazz was thrilled. Sure, she and Danny were known as the kids of the towns crazy ghosthunters, and sure, she basically had to raise her brother since her parents would rarely leave their lab let alone focus on something not ghost related, and yes, she did have to carefully plan out how to use the family's money so that none of them starved.
But no more sleeping in cheap hotels or their van, no more making friends at playgrounds that she'd never see the next day, no more countless hours spent in places where people died, no more English lessons while on the road. She went to school now, she had friends that she saw more than once, she had a home that wasn't filled with cockroaches and the sounds of a argument from the room next door. She had a semi-normal life.
In this time of normality, she relaxed, she let her guard down. Then Danny died and only came back halfway.
And Jazz was back to being that little girl who was scared of ghosts, only this time she was scared for a ghost.
Danny didn't tell her at first, and even though it hurt she understood, and so while she waited for him to tell her, she planned.
She took job after job, from mowing someone's lawn to working at a checkout. Money had been put aside in bags filled with clothes and a pair of new id that she had gotten from Tucker, ("Just in case our parents get classified as supervillains and we need to flee" She said not giving anyway that she knew of Danny's ghostly problem, Tucker had made the id anyway even if he thought she was joking and did not in fact have a plan should that situation happen) One of their neighbors was willing to let her buy their old car despite her family's driving history. A safe house (more like safe apartment) was bought in the only place that was willing to let a teen buy property, Gotham City.
Danny fought numerous enemies until the only enemy that was left was telling their ghost hunter parents that their son was half dead.
Compared to her, Danny was an optimist, seeing the best in everyone without even having to try like she did. Believing that the best would happen like if he didn't, he would break into a million pieces and not know how to put himself together again.
Even though he was scared Danny believed that their parents wouldn't react badly, Jazz hoped they wouldn't but was prepared if they did.
And finally, after many nights spent wide awake in case her parents tried to rip Danny apart molecule by molecule while she slept, the shoe dropped. Their parents loved them, but their work came first, it always came first. Jazz loved her parents, she truly did, but she loved Danny more. And in the end, that made her choice of driving all the way to Gotham with nothing but their go bags all the more easier.
And that was how Jazz and Danny ended up as the neighbors of one Jason Todd.
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heavenbarnes · 3 days
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Thinking of being Ghost's fiance and making invite the 141 over for dinner to finally meet them and he begrudgingly accepts because anything to make u happy and they're still trying to wrap their heads around the fact that he's engaged
mmm omg your mind 🫶🏼
finally getting older bf!simon to have the 141 around your dinner was the equivalent of pulling teeth.
come to think, pulling teeth would’ve been easier.
“well fuck me for wanting to meet the people the man i’m marrying spends 90% of his time with”
“sweet’art y’know i don’t like bringing work ‘ome”
then you’d gone and put your hands on your hips with just one (1) eyebrow raised-
and the lads were knocking at his fucking door.
“gidday- don’t fuckin’ start w’me”
“some bloody way to greet y’guests, big man”
as he corralled all their snide little remarks about “didnae know ye’ owned a nice shirt” everyone managed to find their best behaviour upon your appearance.
it might’ve had something to do with the stunned silence.
when he’d begrudgingly invited them, they’d all been in a little bit of shock- first of all, ghost had a fiancé? second of all, ghost is letting us into his home?
then it all round off with, third of all-
ghost’s fiancé was a fucking looker, that’s for sure.
sweet, nice, bloody easy on the eyes- how the hell had he managed that?
you were just happy to meet the closest things to friends that simon had.
price took lead by drawing you into a hug, thanking you for your hospitality. followed closely by a sweet talking gaz who was already making your cheeks warm with his manners.
naturally, johnny had to chime in with some stupid little-
“nae wonder L.t disnae want us knowing about ye’, i’d keep ye’ all t’maself too”
he’s too slow to avoid simon’s flat palm coming up the side of his head, but it doesn’t dissuade him much.
he’s peachy fucking keen to meet you.
simon eats his tea with a tense jaw, rolling his eyes every time someone makes you laugh a little too long, tells another ‘embarrassing’ story about him.
he also keeps his palm firmly on your knee, nervous twitch of a thumb running circles over your skin.
when you pop out to the kitchen to fix dessert, they’re on him like starved dogs.
“all this time and not so much as a bloody photo?”
“kinda’ photos i’m gettin’ aren’t f’you lots eyes”
johnny nearly falls out of his seat.
you can hear them whispering all the way from the kitchen, for a bunch of SAS guys- they’re not very subtle.
simon’s got one ear on the shit chatter coming from his team and the other on the kitchen, waiting for the slightest sign that he might be able to join you.
it comes- in the form of a gasp from you followed by “ow fuck”
simon’s out of his seat like a bullet.
“what’s wrong- what ‘ave y’done?”
you know the 141 are watching, doesn’t take a genius to see the way they’re all craning their necks around the kitchen doorframe.
“i’m fine, si- just a little burn from the pan”
“lemme’ see, gimme’ y’hand”
so the 141 see their ghost, unshakeable mountain of a man- a face they never see-
and they see his face, and they see genuine fear on it.
they see simon.
your simon.
“i’m telling you it’s fine, si”
“i’ll make that call, alright”
and they’re all looking at each other across the table, trying to decide whether to be impressed or even a little jealous- they’re leaning towards jealous.
so instead they settle on taking the absolute piss out of him.
not that he minds-
before you could even reach your chair he was pulling you into his lap- having you eat dessert perched on his thigh.
as you settle back into his chest, you could swear you feel him laugh.
that hand settles back on your knee again but there aren’t nervous circles anymore.
more like gentle squeezes.
your simon.
right at home.
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the-offside-rule · 8 months
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Max Verstappen (Red Bull Racing) - Explain
Requested: yes
Prompt: 18) "My mum thinks we're dating."
Warnings: Max being dumb asf
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Y/n and Victoria had been friends for as long as they could remember. They would visit eachothers houses, carpool to school, go shopping on the weekends; you name it, they did it and they did it together. Now both girls had a set of rules for eachother and Victoria's number one rule was not a surprise at all; her brother was off limits. Y/n didn't have a problem with it because well, Max was older and they rarely talked. Even as children she didn't like him that way, mainly because as a child she thought he looked like a strange lizard of some sort. When Max became a Formula One driver, Y/n found herself with Victoria less and less due to her still having to stay in school, whilst Victoria travelled the world with her brother for a good part of the academic year. But it didn't tarnish their friendship in any way.
In fact, once Y/n graduated from high-school, Victoria managed to get her to a few races that the whole Verstappen family attended. She grew closer with the family as a whole and even became one of the regulars in the paddock after a while. However, Y/n went on to study in Italy and her paddock appearances were significantly lowered to once or twice a year.
The weekend of Monza 2023 was a special one to say the least. Y/n smiled as she walked into the paddock with Victoria, like she did every other time. The cameras took photos, like they did every other year and they walked straight to the hospitality. "I missed this place." Y/n sighed as she looked around the hospitality, holding her godson Luka's hand as he waddled about the place. "I know. They've changed a few things since you've been here last." Victoria smiled as she wheeled the stroller through the paddock. "And where is the golden boy himself?" Y/n asked, obviously referring to Victoria's now two-time world champion brother.  "He's with Mama. They're having their weekly lunch like they usually do." Y/n nodded. "I can't wait to chill in the hospitality. I'd argue it'd my favourite place."
Just as she said she would, Y/n sat in the  hospitality of Red Bull. She got her usual place; a table by the window that overlooked the whole paddock, and close enough to Ferrari so she could get a glimpse of Charles Leclerc walking by. All heads snapped around as the heard large footsteps pounding up the stairs and there appeared a delirious looking Max Verstappen. They locked eyes and Max began walking over to her quite quickly. Did he really miss her that much?
"Hi, Max. How are you-" Max sits down rapidly, making Y/n freeze and look at the dutchman as if he had two heads. "I have a problem. Well, no. We- we have a problem." Max said, stumbling on his words. "You look like you've just seen a ghost." Y/n chuckled as she continued to scroll through her phone. "I- I think I really messed up." Max muttered. Y/n scoffed in reply. "Can't be worse than the time you-" She paused and looked at the familiar face of Max's I fucked up face. "What did you do?" She asked, not putting the phone down. "I- You're going to hate me." Max said. "What have you done?" She asked again. "My mum thinks we're dating." Max blurted out, leaving both of them in stunned silence. "She what?!" She put her phone down and stood up. "I know! It was really dumb!" Max repeated over and over again. "Max! Why did you tell her that!"
"It was an accident!" Max replied defensively. "What exactly did you say?!" Y/n asked. "Well she said we would make a cute couple and I kind of joked that well, what if we were but nobody knew. And then she started smiling like that and asking questions so I just went with it so now-" He paused. "Now she thinks we're together." Max mumbled the last bit. "Max, you need to tell her we aren't!" Y/n said. "But why? She seems so happy-"
"Max! Victoria might actually murder me! I have known her since we were seven!" Y/n whisper shouted. "It'll be fine! She won't know, I am sure of it-"
"Y/n?" Y/n froze as she heard her loving friend Victoria call out her name. Max and Y/n turned to see Victoria walking towards them, almost in the same fashion that Max walked over just a matter of minutes ago. "Victoria, I can explain!"
"Oh I'm so happy for you both! It makes so much sense now! Why you were looking for him this morning, I mean." Vuctoria squealed, engulfing Y/n in a hug. Max stood up chuckling along. "You- you're not mad?" Y/n asked, audibly confused. "Mad? Of course not! Me and Mama have said it many times; that the two of you should be dating. It's about time, to be honest." Y/n smiled and looked between the two Verstappens. "And you! Oh thank goodness you found a nice girlfriend after that last one, she was horrible." Max nodded and shoved his hands into his pockets. "Even Dad is happy about you two!" Max and Y/n didn't know what to say. "And you all want us to...date?"
"Yes! For the longest time. It was so obvious you liked eachother too. So, so obvious." Max looked down at Y/n. The pair's faces turned as red as the Ferrari garage next door. "Well, I'll let you two lovebirds have some alone time. Ill see you both later?" Victoria asked, getting ready to leave. "Yes. Definitely."
"That didn't go how I thought it would." Y/n muttered. "Are we missing something? Do we like eachother but we're just too stupid to tell?" Max asked. "I- I don't know." She whispered. "But, I think we should tell them we aren't together before this gets out of hand." Y/n went to walk, but felt her hand being grabbed. She looked back to see Max. "Or we just play along until it dies down." Max suggested. "That is possibly the most stupid thing you've ever said." Y/n retorted. "Bot really. We both get benefits out of dating. You get recognition for being my girlfriend which comes with brand deals, magazine shoots-"
"I would never date you just for the benefits. I date someone because I love them."
"So so you love me?" Y/n didn't really know how to respond to that. Her mouth opened and closed, searching for the words but she couldn't couldn't a singular sentence. Max's grin widened. "Don't even! I'll see you around." Y/n said storming off, her face red from embarrassment. "Okay. Bye my love!" Max teased. "Shut up!" Did she like him? Did she love him? No! Of course...well....maybe.
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myhauntedsalem · 3 months
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Leeds General Infirmary
Hospitals are well known to be spooky places, particularly at night. It might not be one of the most well-known ghost sightings in the UK, but this snap taken at Leeds General Infirmary by Andrew Milburn shows a nurse or a child fleeing into a room in a hospital corridor. He took the photograph as a way to simply show his girlfriend where he was in the hospital, as he worked there every day, not knowing what the photograph showed until he viewed it more closely. Andrew had always been skeptical about ghosts, but seeing this figure changed his mind.
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dcxdpdabbles · 4 days
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I was thinking about Danny talking about Dan to the Justice League and all it would take would be a little slip of the tongue for Danny's "he's my evil future self" to be heard as "he's my evil future son." Because it's one thing to have futures where You turn evil, but another thing to have futures where your family members, your KIDS, turn evil.
Phantom was new to the Justice League team. He had been inducted only three months ago and could be seen coming and going at odd hours. No one really knew much about him.
Phantom was recommended by Wonder Woman during the last selection. Apparently, she knew him due to a mutual acquaintance, a woman named Pandora, who had asked the princess to meet the boy—teenager? Man? It was hard to know what to call him because his physical appearance was that of a youth when he was immortal. She rarely nominated anyone for membership, but the person was precious to the team when she did.
And the ghost was.
Although he needed some formal training, Phantom had an excellent grasp of his powers and the cleverness to pull off moves with them, which Batman even praised. Many of the members adored Phantom's willingness to take on any role in a team.
He never complained about letting someone else take the lead, followed orders without much trouble, blended well with anyone as a teammate, and, most of all, had compassion for civilians. Phantom was often the hero who lingered after a battle to help clean up and provide relief aid.
Civilians adored him, and his fans were growing in numbers.
Despite all of this, Phantom wasn't really close with anyone. The ghost rarely lingered after his missions or monitor duty. He flew in, kept to himself, and left out once he was done.
Phantom never started or helped the conversation progress if it was not mission-related. He wasn't as bad as Batman, but he made it hard to connect to him. Diana assured everyone it wasn't because Phantom did not like them—he was only shy.
It was hard to put the being who single-handedly held off Superman the last time he was mind-controlled next to the word shy. Yet they've seen it.
They saw him nervously play with his gloves as someone spoke to him, struggled to think of what to say in conversations, and even ducked his head when he got too anxious.
It was like whiplash to see the ghost go from a shy, nervous teenager to the one that stopped and held Superman in a taekwondo hold until Batman could stab the needle to get him free of mind control.
Then, that same powerful fighter drags himself to the crowd and the smocking city, ready to assist in any way.
Despite being exhausted and covered in wounds, Phantom helped the crew in charge of clearing the debris by lifting heavy objects and scanning the building for people needing medical attention.
Phantom had been more than willing to follow emergency services' commands, personally thanking the EMTs and firefighters once the chaos was over. When a little boy asked for a photo, Phantom told him they could take one when everything settled.
No one expected the ghost to keep to his word, finding the boy and his mother later at a hospital for that photo. He has been awfully apologetic that the camera could only catch a blurry outline of him with his glowing green eyes.
The little boy hadn't stopped grinning despite suffering a broken leg.
He was literally the sweetest little hero—Bruce had to remind himself that he was not an actual child and was, in fact, thousands of years old whenever he saw the ghost fidgeting with something while on monitor duty.
That's why, the day Phantom threw himself into one of the lounges couches with a distressed sigh, everyone in the area surrounded him.
"Everything alright, Phantom?" Asked Oliver as the ghost's glow flickered in and out of his usual glow.
The immortal did not remove his hands from his face but nodded. His glow lowered again as if reacting to his lie.
The heroes gave each other loaded looks before Diana stepped forward. "You seemed troubled, dear friend. Are you willing to allow us to lead an ear to your woes?"
"Dan is just giving me trouble," Phantom mumbled, his words muffled by his hands.
Wonder glanced at the others, but when they shrugged in confusion, she sat next to the teenager. Placing one supporting hand on his shoulder, she rubbed it gently and leaned towards him. "Who is Dan?"
"Me."
Barry blinks. "You?"
"Yeah, the evil me of the future."
Phantom becoming evil? That was inconceivable.
"Did something happen to make you think you're going evil?" Barry asks gently, taking the other open seat on Phantom's left. He places a warm hand on Phantom's hunched-over back and is violently reminded of how tiny the boy must have been when he died.
It breaks his heart. He's smaller than Wally.
"The ancient of Time showed me that he destroyed the world. I helped create him, so I had to be the one to stop him. For the good of the world."
Diana sucks in a gasp, making Oliver, Hal, Barry, and Dinah weary at once. She made the hand motion, signaling that she would explain later, making the other heroes nod. "I know you may blame yourself, but that was merely a warning from the gods. You still have time to change the outcome."
Phantom glances up from behind his fingers. "You really think so?"
"Yes, of course."
The ghost offers everyone a small smile before vanishing from sight. There are gasps and a desperate cry for his name, but eventually, they realize the ghost has left.
"What was that about?" Hal asks after a moment.
Wonder Woman stands, striding over to the large windows of the watch tower. Her eyes turn to the brightest star visible with a small, sad smile. "Clockwork is the name of the ancient- one of the gods- that controls time. He rarely has champions, but when he does, he often gives them glances of their future. Many claim it's more of a curse than a blessing, for they often see the worse of what is to become."
Dinah straightens. "You're saying Phantom really will go evil?"
"No." Diana closes her eyes. "Ghosts are formed in three ways. The first is death. Someone or something dies, and they are formed from the souls getting attached to ectoplasm. The second is that they are bestowed a duty and are created to keep that duty alive. It often governs a part of our reality- space, dreams, wishes, and even plants. The last is the least common due to how rare it is for ghosts to have powerful enough cores. It is to be born from a stronger ghost, taking pieces of their core and growing into their own person."
Diana turns back to the confused-looking heroes to deliver her blow. "Phantom said it was himself that turned evil, but referred to himself as "Dan". Ghosts do not change their names, for their names are part of what holds their cores together. This means Dan is not him but came from him. His son will grow to be evil, and Phantom will likely have to put him down per Clockwork's instructions for the good of the world."
Hal bites out a curse. "That's sick. How could the time god ask Phantom to kill his own kid? Even if he is evil, Phantom doesn't deserve to have that duty placed on his shoulders. He's just a kid."
"But he isn't," Barry sighs. "Phantom is older than ancient Egypt. He just looks like a kid."
"It does not matter." Wonder Woman declares. "Clockwork's warnings can be overturned. We just need to help Dan off the road of darkness while he is still young."
They call for a Justice League meeting, one that only includes the original team that founded the league, to discuss a strategy plan. At first, some want to change the meeting to discuss how to put down Dan, wondering if being Phantom's son made him just as powerful before Batman stands up.
Bruce does not like the idea that the boy will end up destroying the world, but he is the most outspoken about Dan's innocence in the present day. His scorching words make a few ashamed of themselves for giving up on saving the boy before even meeting him.
The meeting drags on for hours until they eventually agree that they will monitor the child. If they realize he is too far gone to save, they will be the ones to end him. Phantom did not deserve to be the killer.
Clark asked Phantom to bring Dan around and introduce him. They dress the indentation as a league-wide party for the member's family (those in the know). The ghost looked spooked before he agreed to bring his child to meet the team.
A week later, every hero smiles politely at the six-foot-tall man with flaming hair who introduces himself as Dan. He's as bulky as Bane, and his low, dark voice echoes through the room. It's comedic compared to the cracking voice of his father, who has to flout to make them the same height.
As soon as the pair of ghosts fly away to speak to Supergirl and Robin, Barry grabs Bruce's cape. "That's a full-grown man."
"I know"
"Bats, that man is built like a brick house. "
"Yes"
"I thought Phantom said he was three? How in the Speed force is that man three?"
"It seems ghosts age differently. Or they are formed to take on the age they desire. I need to do research."
While the surrounding founding members whisper to each other, more heroes arrive at the makeshift party, some in their costumes and some in their civilian identities.
There are various reactions to Dan. A few consider him Phantom's father or brother, but both ghosts quickly make faces. Phantom reminds someone no less than five times that Dan is his future self.
Wonder Woman has to follow the pair whispering to confuse members about the cultural differences between ghosts and children. She doesn't have to explain that to the magic users or those who have worked with ghosts before.
There were a few who had vastly different reactions.
The members of Young Justice, including Secret, all backed up the claims that ghosts did not change their names and were treating Dan as a Phantom's son without blinking an eye.
John Constantine looked at Dan and cooed. "Aw, a baby core. How old is he?"
Phantom cracks a smile while Dan scoffs. "Three"
"Adorable." He raised his flask in salute, "He's powerful. You must be so proud."
Phantom's smile becomes strained. "Thank you."
Across the room, the founding members swear they will save Dan no matter what, as the larger ghost rolls his eyes and crosses his arms.
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thesehauntedhills · 2 years
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emo-batboy · 1 year
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I GIVE YOU a totally real list of viral photos of Battinson with his newly adopted son, Dick Grayson, that took Gotham by storm
Bruce crossing the street with a rosy-cheeked Dick Grayson dutifully holding his hand, Dick somehow found the camera and is waving to it excitedly (this is the first ever photo of them together)
Dick balanced perfectly at the top (and I mean on top) of a jungle gym while Bruce looks stressed out of his mind, pleading for Dick to get down before he hurts himself
Dick doing the exact same thing a month later but this time Bruce looks completely unfazed, sipping a coffee like it’s just a normal Tuesday (the photos are regularly paired together as a popular meme template in Gotham)
A selfie of Bruce and Dick making stupid faces at the camera that Dick turned into his class for one of those “About Me” posters you make in 3rd grade
Dick asleep in Bruce’s arms after a fancy dinner party, they’re wearing matching suits, Bruce is kissing his forehead :(
Bruce and Dick propped up against a wall, sharing a packet of fruit snacks in an empty room next to the charity gala they’re supposed to be attending
A plethora of photos of Dick climbing on top of Bruce at inopportune moments (à la this post)
Including a press conference.
And an investors’ meeting (bring your kid to work day)
Bruce standing outside of Gotham Elementary holding Dick in his arms with matching scowls on their faces. A mother and her son have been cropped out after the boy shoved Dick, and the mother refused to make him apologize. (It almost got physical. The mom has since quit the PTA.)
Bruce and Dick wearing matching sunglasses on the Gotham pier, Bruce is sipping another coffee while Dick eats from a comically large ice cream cone. A second photo shows Dick offering some to Bruce, which he accepts
Bruce retying Dick’s tie in the middle of another charity gala (for the children’s hospital)
Dick doing a cartwheel in the park while Bruce looks at him with the fondest look humanly possible
Bruce and Dick in a convenience store at 10pm (on a Friday) wearing matching oversized Nirvana shirts and pajama pants, it looks like they’re having a movie marathon (it’s Grey Ghost reruns <3)
pspspspsps @bruciemilf
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diaryofanidiot · 10 months
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The Experiments
Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader
Chapter list: Prologue, 1, <2> ,3 ,4 ,5
Cw: Swearing; torture; blood; medical experiments; panic attacks; malnourishment
Summary: For over a year, Y/N was held in a soviet experimentation facility. Forced to fight and claw her way to live, she managed to stay alive. When the 141 rescues her, they get way more intel than bargained for.
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Chapter Two
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The blades of the evac chopper beat against my ears painfully as I was escorted into it. A headset was placed over my ears to muffle the sound as I looked up to see Soap faintly smiling down at me.
It wasn't connected to the other's comm sets so once they spoke during take off, I couldn't hear a thing. All I could do was wonder if I really trusted these people. I glanced to Ghost as I did, a faint sense of faith settling in my gut. Him rescuing me from that hellhole was enough for that primal connection to click in my brain.
Yes. If I could trust him, I could trust them. They all seemed close anyway. Hard won battles sealing their connection to each other.
The next few hours were agonizing as the chopper landed, and I was brought on to the compound. From ID photos to a full body scan for any tracking devices on my person; it seemed they weren't taking any risks with me.
Gaz and Soap would often give me a sympathetic glance as I was pushed around to each check-in task in a wheel chair as I was still too weak to walk fully.
"We're gonna have you looked at in the med bay, then we will need you to recount some info for us. That alright with you?" Asked Gaz. I nodded, appreciative that he made it seem like I even had a choice.
I sighed heavily, ready for it all to be over. The adrenaline had worn off just enough to make me realize how sleep deprived I really was.
Machines beeped, and faint chatter could be heard throughout the medical building of the compound. I underestimated how stressful the environment would be. My fingernails dug into the arms of the wheelchair as Gaz steered it.
Soap was beside me, Price and Ghost having left to recount the mission and write a report of some sorts, he seemed to notice my fear.
"None's gonna hurt ya, Lass." He assured me as I was wheeled over to a hospital cot. Him and Gaz lifted me onto it as I looked around wide eyed.
"No.." I coughed out, my voice raspy and once again dry. "No.. Doctors..." I strained, trying to move. They both held me in place, Gaz giving me a stern look.
"They're just going to look over your injuries. We will be right here the entire time." He tried to assure me.
I shook my head rapidly. Ghost... I wanted Ghost here. I didn't have time to wonder why my thoughts went to him, I just needed to get free. I struggled against their hold as a woman in a clean white coat pulled back the curtain around my cot.
My breathing grew heavy and the room seemed to spin. My nails dug small crescents into my palms as I tried frantically to break free. I heard voices and felt a hand on my back but the sounds felt like they were underwater.
I saw a white lab coat flash in front of my vision and I bared my fangs, my lips trembling fearfully.
Danger?
Gotta run...
Can't run.
Fight?
No... yes. Fuck
Fuckfuckfuck
I felt a sharp prick in my neck and turned my head rapidly, biting towards the hand near my face. I heard someone hiss in pain as my teeth broke flesh.
My hair was grabbed, along with my jaw, until I released my hold. My vision blurred and muscles twitched as I struggled.
It all went dark after that.
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My dreams melted with reality as I woke and tried to shift in bed. A frown appeared on my lips as I realized I couldn't move my limbs. Fuck.
My eyes flew open as I tried to sit up, the restraints clanging against the metal bars of the cot.
"Easy." My attention flew toward the source of the voice to see none other than Ghost sitting beside me.
I gave him a quizzical "what the fuck" look and his eyes focused on mine sternly through the mask.
"You had a panic attack. Flew off the handle. Hence, the restraints." He sat back in the chair, never once taking his eyes away from me. "Those fangs of yours can really do some damage. Gaz won't be able to throw a good punch with that hand for bout a week."
I swallowed thickly, realizing what I did as he spoke. A faint leftover metallic taste of blood lingered in my mouth. I looked down with guilt.
"Nobody blames you." He huffed. "Hell, not even Gaz. Traumas a bitch."
He paused before continuing. "They had to sedate and restrain you for your safety. Once you're cleared, they can be removed."
I thew my head back with a sigh. I couldn't lie. It genuinely sucked to be moved from one set of restraints to another.
"Look at me."
I turned my head.
"I'm gonna bring the doctor back in here. She's friendlier than I am, promise. Think you can manage?"
I bit my lip in contemplation, my fangs drawing a small dab of blood from my lip as I did.
"Don't worry. I'm staying here."
I took a deep breath and nodded before Ghost peered out the curtain. "She's ready." I heard him say.
There was some shuffling before the doctor walked in. Her eyes showed no fear as if she were used to similar reactions like mine.
"My name is Harriet." She began, holding a clipboard to her chest. "I'm the doctor that's been assigned to you. We did a small checkup while you were sedated, I hope that's okay."
I nodded slowly, trying to keep my breaths steady.
"The Lieutenant informed me on where you came from, so I understand your anxiety around me. You've been put on an IV for the time being to replenish your nutrients until we can be sure you can handle an actual meal."
It was then I noticed the needle in my arm. I frowned at it, but the sight didn't bother me as much as this place. Ghost seemed to be keeping an eye on me, likely to ensure any more freak outs didn't ensue.
"I need to take a look at your throat real quick, do you mind?" She approached me calmly. I flinched but eventually agreed, opening my mouth in response. I watched as she shined a light down my throat, a compressor holding down my tongue.
She scribbled something on her clipboard. "I've been informed on your... alterations. Do you have any other abilities we need to be aware of?"
I thought for a moment and nodded my head slowly, holding up a single finger. She pursed her lips and grabbed a pen and paper.
"You can write, I assume?" She made a motion toward Ghist who unlocked my right arm, leaving the rest of the restraints on.
"Easy, girl. Behave." He said. It seemed like a slight hint of a joke. I took the pen and wrote sloppily on the paper.
Echolocation.
Her eyes widened slightly as she read. "I'm assuming this relates to your altered vocal chords?"
I nodded, averting my gaze to the white flooring.
"Well." She clicked her tongue, putting the clipboard back to her chest. "The good news is that with time, your ability to speak should clear up. It's mostly from dehydration and lack of use; the former being taken care of via IV. You have several infected cuts and a slight fever, along with those infected raw spots on your neck, but those will heal up just fine as well."
I took a breath of relief.
"With enough physical therapy, you should be able to walk just fine. Now the bad news.... we can't reverse the changes made to your vocal chords. If you like, the fangs can be dulled by a dentist, but that one is entirely your choice as neither alterations threaten your livelihood."
As I frowned in thought, Ghost stopped me. "You can decide that later."
I looked back to the doctor who gave me a small sympathetic smile. "One last thing, then I'll let you get some more rest. Do you remember your name? It isn't on the file that was brought with you."
I watched as I was given the pen once more. I closed my eyes and dug through my memory, searching for any remnants of who I was over a year prior.
A woman's voice echoed through my head. No, not a woman. A mother. My mother. She called out to me in agony.
My breath quickened as the memory played like hazy snapshots. Her hand grasping at my shirt. Being dragged away. Her hold on me failing. A gun to her head.
Everything was blurry. Everything was muffled.
Except...
I took the pen and wrote a name on the paper. The same name that echoed through my mind over and over.
A scalding tear fell down my cheek as the doctor nodded.
"It's nice to meet you, (y/n)."
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A/n: sorry bout the tendons in your hand, Gaz. 🫡 had to be done.
I'm sorry this one is so short but I was fairly busy today. I'll make it up with the next one, promise ^-^
Taglist: @warenai @linoskitten11 @jamesrifftapes @justmare @hk-4ever @thriving-n-jiving @katelouis98 @tayaisback @josieguts @btszn @lemmyyy0606 @msecho19 @cory-viv @cybercl0ne @randomhumans-blog @vinithechocolatevampire @embermdk @itsryuken @neothewitch @undercover-smutlover
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bejeweledblondie · 7 months
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so excited about you having your requests open. I love your page!!
can I please request: Simon Ghost Riley x wife!reader?
Ghost and the rest of tf 141 are on a mission and end up getting detoured by who ever they are taking out (Russians, Hassan, etc). They need a safe house and quick! Well it just so happens simons place is right near by and simon takes them. the reader is home alone and just got out of the shower, she heard a bunch of men downstairs and gets freaked. In just her bathrobe, reader takes one of their safety guns and goes to defend herself against the “intruders” but really it’s just simon and gang
(sorry if this is long I got excited)
please and thanks
Hello! I’m so happy you’re enjoying my blog! I do apologize for the delay I was hospitalized for a lung infection (shit sucks dude I felt like a Victorian child dying of tuberculosis) but I’m all good now! So enjoy!
Simon “Ghost” Riley x F! Reader
Summary: After their mission becomes compromised Task Force 141 has to take up shelter in a safe house or the Riley Family home much to the surprise of Mrs. Simon Riley
Warnings: innuendos
“Come on I know a place.” Ghost grunted through his skull faced mask. The Lieutenant begrudgingly huffed & puffed leading the rest of his teammates through the forest that lead to the cottage where his family resided. After their location had been compromised Laswell ordered them to find a home in order to stay in where they’d go undetected. With them being only ten miles away from the cottage he called home with his wife, he knew it was the only option. Finally, after miles of hearing Gaz & Johnny complain about their feet aching they reached the wisteria ridden cottage.
He started to reach into his pocket & pulled out the key to his front door.
“Take your shoes off,” Ghost demanded. “We don’t want to track mud.” Photos of a very beautiful young woman in a wedding dress graced the walls of hallway leading into the living room. Simon could hear the water running in the upstairs bathroom indicating to him his beloved darling wife was showering.
“Simon, how do you know about this place?” Soap asked after he kicked his boots off. “I’m assuming you know the beautiful lassie in the photos.” Price chuckled to himself, knew about you. Simon had come to him to ask for advice on a lot of different things in regards to a marriage. His most recent was about children. It was just four months ago you had found out you were with child.
“Something like that.” Simon replied, & removed his mask. Gaz & Soap gave each other a glance knowing he must’ve felt very comfortable with his environment. A black & white cat rounded the corner out of the kitchen. He made a beeline for Simon & started to rub up against Simon’s legs. Bending down Simon grabbed the feline & started to pet him.
You had decided to run a shower, needing to wash away the grime of the day. Your current tired pregnant state made you incredibly drowsy. Resting your head against the cold tile you could’ve sworn you heard the door open. Chalking it up to pure exhaustion you ignored it. Then the all familiar sound of boots coming off by the front door made your head snap. You turned off the water, & dried yourself off. Wrapping yourself in your bathrobe & throwing on a pair of panties you grabbed the shot gun that laid next to the bed. If there was one thing Simon taught you was to defend yourself.
Slowly you started to make your way down the staircase shotgun pointed outwards. Once at the bottom you turned the corner into the hallway. Seeing the all familiar broad shoulders of your husband made you lower your shotgun.
“Si?” You asked clearly confused now cradling the shotgun in your arm. He turned around holding, Phantom your beloved tuxedo cat. “I thought you were supposed to be home in a few days.” You stated clearly confused.
“I’m sorry love, we needed somewhere to stay for a few days.” He replied. “Just until the heat dies down.” He gave you a kiss, much to the surprise of his teammates. “How the little one?” He asked placing one of his large hands on your lower abdomen.
“The usual,” You replied. “But overall we’re just fine.” Soap & Gaz stood there with their mouths wide open in shock.
“You have a kid?!” Soap asked.
“Back it up when did you get married?” Gaz asked. Price just stood there pinching the bridge of his nose at his teammates ruining the lovers moment. Simon holding his wife tightly now turned to face them.
“I got married three years ago, & we’re expecting our first child in five months.” Simon replied. “This is Mrs. Simon Riley, Y/N.”
“It’s so lovely to meet all of you.” You replied beaming. “Hi, John it’s nice to see you again.” You said waving at Price. Both Soap & Gaz looked at him shocked.
“What?!” John asked. “It wasn’t my responsibility to tell you.” Noticing your lack of clothing you excused yourself to change, & brought down old pajamas of Simon’s for the boys.
“The shower is open, & let me bake some cookies for you boys. You must be hungry.” You said. Simon took his usual spot on the couch & turned on Netflix. You loved taking care of Simon, he was the love of your life. The two of you depended on each other for everything. His job was a big stressor in his life & you wanted to make his home life as relaxing as you possibly could.
Soap, & Gaz were in seventh heaven in a world of hardened military men, the tender touch of a woman was exactly what they needed. Someone to just take care of them for a little bit to let them escape from the reality of their lives. Once the cookies were done you brought some plates out for them & then took your place right next to Simon on the couch. He pulled you in tightly, your head resting on his chest & his hand resting on your lower abdomen caressing the small bump. After a plate of cookies you both fell asleep on the couch. John himself was already knocked out in the little recliner that sat next to the couch his bucket hat covering his face. Gaz nudged Soap to look at their sleeping Lieutenant & his darling wife. It was so foreign to them to see him in such a soft state. They had seen him snap men’s necks the way you’d snap a Kit-Kat but here he was even in sleep being so gentle. Soon afterwards the two men also let sleep take over, letting the uncertainty of the situation become a problem for tomorrow.
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