#another ghost blob because yes | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rboooks · 11 months

Text

The bakery is a front!...Right? Part 2

Danny can practically feel Peter's glare through the small window between the front counter and kitchen, trying to melt his ice core. He isn't sure what he did to earn the man's ire but it was getting sort of old after two weeks.

Peter's brother, who almost always steals food and drinks between customers, wasn't nearly as bad. Danny didn't mind the loss, as he is beyond rich that he could fund his own country; he just found it odd that Alvin tended to put whatever he stole in test tubes.

He used to seeing street kids' having sticky fingers, but not ones with this particular habit. If he hadn't witnessed Alvin taking an entire bagel and stuffing it into a ziplock bag after another filling another test tube with the ghost theme latte- it was just color dye green and the foam shaped into a blob ghost- he would thought the guy was gathering samples of his merchandise rather then stocking up on food. Not that he could blame him.

Not knowing where their next meal will come from makes it understandable that they horde any food they can. Yes, the pair of brothers were close to his age but they been on the streets since Peter was fifteen and Alvin was thirteen. They had apparently took off in the middle of the night after Alvin was violently outed and his scum of a father tried to break the gay out of him.

They haven't spoken much about their past besides that, but Danny didn't need any more information.

Alvin is remarkably good at taking things without anyone noticed.

The only reason Danny caught on to what he was doing was because this was his haunt, and his ghost side had growled in outrage the first time Alvin swiped some samples of various coffees. His human side just thought it was hilarious.

After a while, the part of him that was Phantom recognized the two as new members of his haunt and now purred whenever they took stuff. Phantom's desire to provide for those under his protection made it hard for Danny not to slip and purr or rub himself against people like a creepy cat.

Phantom also had this mysterious allure to humans. Sam and Tucker let him know after the three came across the Phan Club led by his old classmates. Paulina wanting to marry him wasn't a one-time thing. Almost all his classmates wanted to marry Phantom because a part of him influenced their attraction.

Halfas were like that.

Frostbite said halfas were close to sirens and that annoyed him more than anything.

His ghost side wasn't mansplain, manipulate but rather manwhore. At least with enough exposure, people developed immunity to his allure, so Danny ignored all the love-struck eyes made at him.

Danny still very clearly remembered coming back for his junior year, walking into the hallways and causing multiple jaws to drop.

Sam and he had broken up at the beginning of the summer, so she only blinked at his sudden appearance, but Tucker had been blindsided.

"Dude, don't take this the wrong way, but you look delicious"

Danny had fallen for him just a little for that alone.

The two of them dated all junior year with Sam's blessing but agreed they were better as friends by the end. It was awkward, but the three got past that, spending senior year snickering as various people tried to ask Danny out.

Danny was petty enough to admit he enjoyed turning them down, citing their past treatment of him as a "never going to happen". Breaking the hearts of the A-listers was a special kind of joy, especially Dash.

After taking the time with Elle to further develop his ghost side, he hadn't realized the big difference between him and the other halfas.

Vlad's accident case him to form over time, after getting ecto-acne, and the years he spent in the hospital were him repeatedly dying only to be brought back seconds after, by the ectoplasm forced into his face. It is no wonder he lost his sanity and became violently obsessed with his parents.

In the creation of Dan, Vlad's mind had finally been accessible to his human side again. The future Vlad was more mellow sure, has taken him in with a kind heart but that was because he had been more human then ghost. The ghost side no longer had his parents around so its vengeance was no longer needed ans it cleared up the maddness.

It was like his image of a human hand been painted over by his ghost. It didn't blend.

Jazz had realized this, and then after speaking to his parents, they vowed to help him. Surprisingly it worked, and now Vlad was not a fruitloop. Unfortunately he may be something far worse.

Vlad was now his parents' boyfriend. Ugh. It didn't help that it had been Vlad that given his parents a grant all these years, who had taken care of the family from afar, and that he was a gentle soul. Jack had named him godfather of his son because they grew up together and had always know the sweetheart hidden within.

His coming back from the dead madness had rekindled old feelings, and his mom admitted she had felt something for him too.

Ew.

Ellie was influenced by her ghost side too. She was a clone, but her core form first, and unlike the other failed clones, she was more like a ghost who learned to be human. She gave in more to her spirit urges, only really eating and sleeping because she thought they were fun. Her ghost was painted over by her human side, but it was a well balanced collage.

Danny was a single painting with two figures side by side.

Since his accident perfectly split his two parts his human side kept his ghostly influence at bay until he was about sixteen, where slowly but surely, he allowed his two pieces to start to fuse.

That's why Dan had gone off the deep end when separated from his human side. There was nothing hold his urge to protect after his loved one's death and his ghost part saw his human half trying to get rid of him as betrayal, so it reacted by betrayung his protective obsession- by destroying everything it could and eating Vlad's ghost only fueled his crazy.

There had been times when both his ghost side and human side were separated that didn't cause this. When he was spilt by Fenton Ghost Cather, his ghost side took the responsibility while his human became even lazier than average. That didn't mean they had different personalities, just that some aspects of themselves were futher away.

It was like his soul multiplied rather then broken. It's why he was able to stay sane, he didn't reject any part of him.

It just didn't help with their fusing his ghost was affecting humans and him. He now had to deal with even more love-struck eyes. Worse, according to Vlad and Frostbite, Danny was now entering his mating stage, and he was honest to Acients nesting.

The building next door that he had bought and developed to have decent-sized cubicles with warm beds meant to house the homeless was now mostly occupied by children.

Phantom was almost always purring, seeing street kids slowly move in. He offered them food, work, a roof, and warm water. The cubicles could be considered dorm rooms-a bed, desk, and small cabinets that were savage from other kids who sold them to Danny enough for them to walk into and sleep when it turned dark. Some leave in the morning, others stay, but Danny doesn't mind.

Maybe that's why Peter hated him so much. Alvin was weak to Phantom's charm and Danny knew a thing or two about older siblings trying to protect thier younger siblings from parent's bigotry.

Jazz made a face when ghost hunters got near him before the reveal. They weren't in danger anymore, but knowing that and relaxing around what they saw a threat were two very different things.

Peter and Alvin Draper appeared a month or so after the whole Scarecrow's incident. He didn't mean to run into the supervillain, knocking the man over in the middle of his villian monologue.

He had been too busy trying to get Sam and Tucker- dated in senior year and the last two years- to agree on the main decor for their wedding. Even after they got engaged, it was still Danny who smoothed their bickering to notice that he had stop breathing again.

Sometimes he forgot.

It took the guy stuffing a needle into his arm, the liquid already being cleansed by his ectoplasm before fully settling in his bloodstream, to realize this wasn't another Gotham citizen casually wearing a gas mask.

This was the reason people wear gas masks.

He punched the creep away from him, effectively allowing the heroes to lock him up. But in doing so, he put all his goons out of work. He hadn't known until two days later Andres had nervously walked into his bakery with a resume.

Andres had been the Scarecrow's right-hand man trying to get money for his dying mother, who had cancer. Danny didn't know what to do with a guy whose only valuable skill at a bakery was speaking Spanish but if he wanted to get out of life of crime then who was he to stop him?

His resume was impressive, but it was mostly how to handle illegal chemicals and torture, so Danny set him up as his cashier and co-baker. A few days later, Andres had carefully suggested other goons from Scarecrow's crew who needed jobs, and Danny found himself fully staffed that same day.

More people began visiting him for work, and Danny didn't what to do with them half the time.

Sighing, he placed the newest batch of ecto-cookies in a box for Manolo to take to his mother. The kid is rocking on his heels by the entrance. He is new to the streets after getting thrown out by his mother's ex, but now that she was cleaning up her addiction, Danny hoped he wouldn't be seeing him around the streets as often.

"Peter is going to shoot you," Andres said, looking at the man with the streak of white in his hair practically foaming at the mouth when he saw the small boy arrive for his delivery run. "Want me and the boys to take care of him?"

Danny glanced up to catch Alvin ducking his head, face a healthy red hue. The guy had been staring at him again, which meant Peter was being overprotective again.

"No" He tells Andres, putting the boxes in a little red wagon for the boy to tug around. "I'll handle him."

He walked by the brothers, Alvin already trying to sneak a box away. Danny quickly moved the wagon away from him. When there was nothing to cleanse, ectoplasm worked like a potent energy drink, and honestly, Alvin did not need more of a reason to get less sleep.

Alvin pouted when his chance to steal a cookie failed.

Cute Thought Danny

Our children will be gorgeous Responded Phantom Make Alvin mate.

Danny ignores Phantom to smile at Manolo. He slips into Spanish, quickly crouching down to be at eye level. "Hi buddy. How is the new sweater treating you?"

Manolo's dimple shows as he pulls the sleeves over his palms. "It's warm. I like how fluffy it is."

Phantom cooed, and a soft purr escaped him before Danny clamped down on the sound. "I'm glad. Ready for another day of deliveries?"

"Yes!" The ten year old chirps snapping the list of names and address out of Danny's hand. The baker laughs, pulling our his wallet.

"I know I can count on you, so I'll pay you upfront. If anyone gives you tips, you can keep them," He says, handing the boy five hundred. Manolo beams, pocketing the money and scurrying away with his wagon.

I want a baby Phantom whines

I'll eat a bagel later, Danny promises.

( Part 1 ) (Part 3)

#dc x dp crossover #dc x dp #part 2 #Danny is practically a siren #hes in the middle of mating season #he and phantom are one but also not #Peter is Jason #alvin is Tim #the bakery is a front!...right?

3K notes · View notes

frozenjokes · 17 days

Text

Etho Really Should Explain Literally Anything To Mumbo, But It’s A Long Story And He Can’t Be Bothered

Mermaids weren’t very loud creatures, not at all. They could be when they wanted; the purpose of song was to be heard after all, but song was a deliberate action, to hunt, to heal, to love.

A mermaid in distress was not loud, per se. Not like humans; yelling, whining, flailing about, no, nothing purposeful, but they did stand out with too-frequent click, click, clicks of a soul that was very lost, that didn’t feel grounded in their environment.

And it wasn’t always obvious, not in the deep. Everyone was clicking all of the time in the deep, the soft rhythm of home. To navigate, to gauge how another was feeling, to keep from running into rocks or homes or gardens or each other- well, they still ran into each other quite a bit, but the point stands.

In places with less mermaids however, it was very obvious when someone was struggling, and this close to the surface, Mumbo could hear telltale mermaid clicks from a mile away. Nine times out of ten, if a mermaid was near the surface Mumbo would be surprised if they weren’t lost, so he kicked away from the gentle current he was riding and made toward the noise.

The clicking heightened as Mumbo neared, then slowed, recognition of another presence. Mumbo was close enough to sense the rapid movement of fins with his own clicks; up and down, up and down, but with unadjusted eyes from spending so long in the deep, he still couldn’t quite see them. Regardless, it was clear that this mermaid was apprehensive about his approach, so he slowed his pace, hoping the stranger would understand he was friendly.

‘Do you need help?’ Mumbo whistled once in earshot, keeping a healthy distance. There was something unnerving about this mermaid that kept him on edge, kept his fins twitching. He just couldn’t- see them. Now, again, he couldn’t see much of anything, but he could understand shapes, especially ones as big as him. And Mumbo knew where the stranger should be; they weren’t exactly moving much and clicking was an accurate measurement of space, but there was no dark blob where he expected one to be. Mumbo squinted, but it was no use.

‘Need to go to the surface. Urgent. Got swept away by the storm,’ the mermaid answered after an uncomfortable pause, and that was odd too. Why were they speaking so stilted? And why did they wait so long to answer? But then Mumbo processed the words, and excitement swallowed his apprehension. The surface? Did this mermaid like to visit the surface as well?

‘That’s where I’m going! I’ll take you.’ Mumbo couldn’t help the soft trill that rose behind his words, diving a little closer as curiosity got the better of him. The stranger’s fins flared briefly, surprise, and Mumbo gave a few amused clicks in return.

‘Really?’ they said, the lilt of the word higher than it should’ve been; a quite endearing expression of excitement, or maybe surprise? Entirely odd- mermaids didn’t usually express themselves in that way. Mumbo wondered where this one was from. ‘Can you take me-’ the mermaid stopped suddenly, frustration twitching through their fins before they flicked their tail, a silent ‘nevermind.’

‘I know a safe place,’ Mumbo tried, hoping that would sate them. Did this mermaid travel the surface or something? Did they name different places they’d explored? Oh, Mumbo longed to know more. ‘Call me Mumbo?’

‘Anywhere there’s land is fine. Call me Ghost’

Ghost! Goodness! ‘Do they call you that because you’re invisible?’ The words were out of his mouth before Mumbo could help himself, but Ghost didn’t seem to mind, an amused chirp bubbling forward.

‘You’ve been deep for a while?’

Mumbo drew into himself in a gentle show of embarrassment. ‘Yes. I like to visit the surface often, but couldn’t for some time. Bad injury. This is my first time back since then.’

Ghost closed the rest of the distance between them, and Mumbo started to see a shape through the water, though not concretely. ‘I’m light colored, different. I won’t stand out where there’s so much sun, not like you do.’ And there was that higher lilt again, almost distorting Ghost’s words to the point of changing their meaning. Why were they doing that? Mumbo could tell their amusement from their body language; was this like- double amused? Maybe it wasn’t amusement at all- Mumbo probably shouldn’t be applying human habits to mermaids, but that was just it. It sounded so human. Had Ghost spent a lot of time around them?

Mumbo didn’t get the chance to ask. Ghost stilled for a moment, a distinctly unnatural, tense movement, before a horrible wheezing sound left their throat, gills flaring so wide Mumbo could sense the spasming through his own distressed clicks, clicking which grew in rapid, panicked frequency. What- What was happening? Ghost made a horrible choking sound, bubbles trailing through their teeth, and Mumbo pressed a frightened hand to their chest, desperate to figure out what was wrong with their gills.

Ghost’s tail whipped against Mumbo’s own in a bruising slam, propelling the other out of reach, but Mumbo couldn’t help but follow closely, unable to understand and longing to help- but how could he? It- it sounded like Ghost was drowning.

And then it stopped. As suddenly as they’d stopped breathing, Ghost started again like nothing was wrong. Like they were just fine.

‘Sorry about that,’ Ghost clicked, fins frighteningly calm for what must have been a terrifying experience. Mumbo’s own fins were flat against his back, wary and afraid, but Ghost didn’t seem the least bit bothered, if anything, just looking a little annoyed. ‘It’s urgent I get to the surface.’

They didn’t elaborate further, and Mumbo couldn’t do much else but stare, a cross between utterly perplexed and extraordinarily frightened. He wanted to ask further, but maybe this was a personal issue-? It would be rude to probe about this mermaid’s health, surely. Maybe it had something to do with their light scales? What if light scaled mermaids needed sunlight to survive? Whatever the case, Mumbo took ‘urgent’ seriously this time, kicking off on a swift pace toward the surface, and was relieved to hear Ghost following close behind.

To Mumbo’s great distress, Ghost had another ‘drowning attack’ around thirty minutes later before they reached the outlet into the river, but they didn’t seem too bothered, so Mumbo tried (and failed) not to worry as well, simply hoping that once they made it to the lake cove, everything would be fine. Honestly, it was a little unnerving how relaxed Ghost was acting for a mer who sounded like they were dying a minute ago (and potentially on a regular basis?), but maybe Mumbo was misreading them. After all, they did have a couple odd mannerisms, and with the sun so bright this close to open air, Mumbo was just as blind as he was in the deep.

He’d forgotten how much the sun hurt when he was away for so long; a real shame, since he had really been looking forward to seeing Ghost. In all fairness, Mumbo hadn’t actually seen many mermaids at all, but for the most part their scales were dark and inky, with traces of color along their fins from a time when mermaids lived in places the light could reach. The idea of a pale colored mermaid was fascinating, and Mumbo was quite keen on seeing them with adjusted eyes.

As the two of them swam down the channel, Mumbo’s thoughts drifted to his humans, a gentle ache in his chest as he wondered if he would ever see them again. He was gone for so long, what if they didn’t think he was coming back? Did they still think about him? Oh, he hoped they were doing well. Grian hadn’t been in a good state.. Mumbo only hoped he’d made the right choice by leaving.

He stopped short as he remembered Ghost; even though Mumbo would be shocked to see his humans at the cove, he should probably give them a heads up regardless.

‘A warning,’ he whistled, and continued when Ghost flicked their fins as an indication they heard, ‘Humans visit my place sometimes. It has been a long time since I’ve been up, and they come to see me, so I doubt they’ll be around, but I thought you should know. They are friendly, in any case. Nothing to worry about.’

Ghost clicked to themself, an indication of quiet thought, though Mumbo was relieved that they didn’t seem too alarmed. ‘Should be out of there before that becomes a problem,’ they mused, ‘But you should be careful. Humans are greedy things. Take advantage of nice mers like you.’

‘No, no, not these. They want to learn about me. I want to learn about them. They’re sweet, they took care of me when my tail was broken. Well. They tried. I’ve brought them back a few things from the deep to show them if they ever return.’

Ghost hummed to themself in quiet thought before whistling, ‘Sentimental,’ and Mumbo wasn’t quite sure if they were referring to him or the humans. Probably true either way.

‘They’re nothing to worry about.’

‘Either way, I’ll be gone.’ Ghost gave a dismissive flick of their fins, and Mumbo pushed away disappointment. He figured if Ghost explored the surface, they’d surely met or at least seen a handful of humans, but they didn’t seem to care at all. Maybe humans were just another animal to Ghost, nothing to write home about. Mumbo couldn’t imagine being so disinterested. Humans made tools- they were engineers! Mumbo couldn’t think of a species more fascinating if he tried.

Regardless, he took them through the inlet that led to the lake, hoping if it was sun that Ghost needed, they would get plenty of it here. It wasn’t easy to keep track of Ghost’s breathing, not when Mumbo couldn’t see, but he did his best to listen, even if Ghost didn’t seem to want any assistance. Mumbo couldn’t help himself. How could anyone? At the very least, if Ghost did start drowning(?) again, they were in shallow enough water that they could surface for air.

Relief swamped Mumbo when they finally broke through to the lake, especially when behind him, it seemed like Ghost was beginning to breathe a bit more shallowly. Mumbo had planned on scouting ahead for his humans, just in case, but Ghost didn’t give him the chance, tearing ahead toward the beach in what Mumbo hoped was excitement.

It was a beautiful day, the water warm in Mumbo’s pleasant little alcove, and just being here after so long lifted his mood, a soft, sighing trill leaving his throat as his tail brushed the sandy shallows. Ghost had already fixed themself at the shore, head almost completely out of the water as they sprawled, fins waving contentedly. Maybe it really was sunlight they needed; Mumbo would be hard pressed to remember a mermaid in his past that looked more relaxed. And they seemed to be breathing well too, perfect.

‘This is a good place, very good,’ Ghost said, though there was something breathy about the whistle, like it wasn’t quite coming out right, ‘I can see where your humans come in and out. That will make things easier for me.’

‘The brush is still pretty flattened, isn’t it,’ Mumbo spoke with a wistful glance toward the path emerging from the woods, though it was far more overgrown than before. Mumbo’s stomach churned as he stared, anxiety hiking up in his chest. It really did look like it had been a while since anyone came through. He blinked, fins flicking as he processed the rest of what Ghost had said. ‘How do you mean?’

Ghost gave a non-committal flick of their tail, the end splashing lazily as it landed back in the water, ‘Don’t worry about it. Long story. Impatient, stupid friend.’ Ghost’s fins twitched irritably at the last sentiment, and kept twitching long after, their mood seeming to sour.

Mumbo would have loved to hear; he had plenty of time after all, but Ghost didn’t look like they wanted to share, so he left well enough alone, leaving them in the shallows to check on his roots and vines. Oh, everything had grown so much! Instantly he was preoccupied, meticulously combing through every plant, pulling up the longest, sturdiest strands, and placing them lengthwise on the shore. Mumbo didn’t know what he was going to do with this yet, but he was sure he could make some really sturdy rope- oh, he was so excited! Ghost seemed to be amused by his antics, keeping a curious eye on Mumbo’s activity. They didn’t ask any questions, a shame since Mumbo would have loved to chat, but oh well, not all mermaids were talkative. He appreciated the company regardless.

Mumbo worked in silence for a good while, humming to himself as he got into a groove. Through squinted eyes, he found a few wildflowers near the shore, and wondered if his humans would like them or if Ghost valued pretty things like he did. Mumbo pulled himself up the short ledge to get a better look, embarking on a grand distraction that took him some ways from the water’s edge in search of different flowers. Mumbo loved color, and he loved finding new colors. Things could get so dull in the water, even outside of the deep, but everything on the surface was so vibrant!

The first few times he had ventured out of the deep, he’d spent hours and hours just looking at himself, the reds and pinks shimmering through his fins so bright and beautiful, especially above the water. In low light, his fins were as black as the rest of his scales, so seeing the sun hit them for the first time was a delightful surprise. If only he didn’t have to wait so long to see the world properly. Truly, the best thing about spending all those weeks on the surface, even injured, was taking in the environment, the color, the everything. There was truly nothing like it in the deep.

Speaking of not being able to see, after accidentally crushing a few flowers, Mumbo forced himself to retreat back to the water. Blind mermaids didn’t get nice things, not after killing a bunch of them.

But after the rippling sound of Mumbo’s re-entrance into the lake subsided, ragged, strained breathing replaced the noise, filling the quiet with Ghost’s sick struggling. Mumbo was at their side in an instant, his fear-raised fins contrasting Ghost’s own, flat against their body and quivering gently. Mumbo’s eyes had adjusted enough to see their pale form, truly devoid of almost all color apart from splotches of salmon pink that painted their fins and skin. Mumbo squinted, alarm lighting his veins when he couldn’t find Ghost’s gills.

‘Space, please. I’m fine,’ they said, extraordinarily unconvincingly, ‘Impatient, stupid friend on their way. Very stupid. Very impatient. Will be here soon. You might want to leave until they’re gone.’ Their whistles and clicks were quiet and weak, similar to the brief moment from before, but much worse, like Ghost was struggling to speak at all.

‘You’re dying. I’m not leaving.’

‘I’m not dying.’

‘You’re dying!’

‘This is normal.’

‘It most certainly is not!’

Ghost hissed pointedly, fins slapping the water with how hard Ghost was flicking them. Incredibly rude, honestly, but given the circumstances, Mumbo was willing to forget it. He just wished this mer wasn’t so damn stubborn.

‘Stupid friend is poor company. Go away.’ Ghost bared their teeth briefly, and Mumbo’s tail tip lashed, splashing in the shallow water. He backed up, giving the requested space, but did not leave. Ghost huffed, but did not try to send him away again.

Mumbo shifted his attention to helping instead, on singing some sort of comfort (a gesture which seemed to annoy Ghost; Mumbo really couldn’t win with this mer, could he), and doing whatever he could that wouldn’t end with him being hissed at. Which is to say, not much. Given his focus, he didn’t notice the distant disturbance from the woods, not until it grew in volume, aggressive and clumsy and steadily getting closer. There was something uncoordinated about the noise as well, snagging and stumbling that set Mumbo’s fins on end, like the thing it belonged to was unfamiliar with the forest, or simply didn’t care. Well- thing. It was quite obviously a human. Nothing else was so loud, so careless.

Mumbo shrank back when the human burst through the clearing, but it didn’t even notice the two mermaids, instead hunching over its knees with heaving breaths, so ragged they almost sounded like growls. Mumbo was entirely tense from fingers to tail tip, fins on end and quivering, while Ghost looked little more than bored, or maybe just pained; it was difficult to tell with fins so lax. This couldn’t be the friend they were talking about, could it? Ghost hadn’t said a word when Mumbo talked of his own human friends; if anything, Ghost had sounded entirely disinterested. Maybe they were too sick to care about a threat in the clearing? Whatever the case, Mumbo would take care of it.

“Got your bloody clothes, Etho, christ, you didn’t make it easy to find you. Couldn’t have gone anywhere else huh?” The human tossed the bag off its back and into the sand, “This is a nice location though, for the future,” it mumbled, “Close to the river. Lots of options.”

It didn’t even look up as it shed some of its clothes, stumbling toward the water with a distinctly unsettling gait, legs shaking violently- was it sick? Either way, Mumbo didn’t want it anywhere near him. Mumbo spat a long, rattling hiss, satisfied as the human fell back into the sand, eyes wide enough for Mumbo to see in his half-blind state. It was a similar size as Grian, smaller without most of its clothes, with long, almost matted looking hair. Beside him, Ghost made an odd noise, almost reminiscent of a human laugh. Clearly they were getting sicker by the moment, no, no, Mumbo wouldn’t let this human anywhere near them, not when they couldn’t defend themself.

“Etho!” the human squeaked, shuffling back on uncoordinated limbs, “Who is this? Tell ‘im off! Tell ‘im off!” Something like slits across its neck and chest flared, reminiscent of gills. Odd jewelry, maybe? Did human paint move across their bodies? Well, regardless, Mumbo did not appreciate being yelled at, so he snaked closer to the water’s edge, rearing up with another defensive hiss.

‘Sorry, no speak- ah- human?’ Ghost whistled, rolling over somewhat pathetically, and the human screeched, kicking up sand in Mumbo’s direction, which, honestly, not a great choice.

“Not funny! Not funny!”

“Maybe not,” Ghost spoke in human, and Mumbo nearly jumped out of his skin, reeling on them with wide eyes, “But I do wish someone would bite you.” They paused, turning back to Mumbo, ‘Don’t bite it, please.’

‘IT?!’ The human whistled, outraged, but it didn’t whistle like a human, instead sounding just like a mermaid, clicks and all, though similarly to Ghost, it expressed its emotions in speech, which- maybe that made sense, given it had no fins to emote with. Still, the surprise was enough to send Mumbo jumping back a few paces, whirling from Ghost to the human and back again in wild confusion.

Ghost rolled their eyes, a frighteningly human mannerism, before giving a small wave of their tail, ‘Probably should’ve given you a better warning. Didn’t know how to explain, and they started the switch sooner than I thought. Too soon, clearly, they’re a damn mess. Should’ve been in the water ages ago. By the time you left the woods, it was a bit late, and obviously, I’m not well.’ Where the human’s whistle was strong and clear, Ghost’s seemed breathy and strained, like it was getting harder and harder to force the noise from their throat. And- wait a minute, their eyes weren’t right either. Something changed. Ghost spoke again before Mumbo could continue that thought, ‘Let them into the water, please. It will help both of us.’

“Stop talking so fast,” the human snapped irritably, “I can’t understand you.”

“I’m not talking to you,” Ghost bit back in human once more, but they didn’t look nearly as unhappy as they were before, fins only twitching absently. “Come on. Get in the water, they’ll let you now.”

The human looked skeptical, but even seated in the sand it was still shaking, and while Mumbo didn’t particularly want it anywhere close, Ghost had sounded decisive..? Mumbo carefully pulled away, keeping toward Ghost and hoping the human would respect his space. It seemed to understand, getting to its feet on legs that barely held its weight, then stumbling to the water line and falling in. Ghost made that odd half-laugh sound again, and seemed to relax a little, releasing a long breath.

The human rolled over in the water, looking similarly relieved. “Did you tell your new friend anything, or are they completely in the dark?”

Ghost shrugged, noncommittal, “Not really. Never going to see them again, so I didn’t see a point.”

“That’s mean,” the human snickered, its mood seeming to switch entirely. “So what, you’re going gonna blow their mind and leave them to think about it for the rest of their life, completely clueless? Do you think years from now they’ll doubt it even happened? Think they dreamed it? No one will believe them.” The human suddenly cackled, a bit of a crazed noise that made Mumbo shrink away. It looked directly at him and sneered, “No one will believe you,” then stopped short, turning back to Ghost, “Etho! Tell them no one will believe them. Do it for me.”

“I’m not doing that.”

“Do it!”

“No.”

“Do it!”

“No.”

“Do it!”

Ghost didn't answer, rolling over to face away from both Mumbo and the human, something like mild amusement waving through their fins which- wait, since when had their fins gotten so small? But his thoughts didn’t linger there for long, most of his brain still straining to remember the human words he had learned. He was sure the two of them were talking about him, they must be, but they also must be using a different pronoun- when Ghost learned human, did they make a separate pronoun in the human language for mermaids? Why? While he had about a thousand questions, it seemed difficult for Ghost to speak at this point, so for now he wanted to focus on language, or at least on trying to understand anything the two of them were saying.

‘What do you call me? My humans call me-‘ Mumbo paused, steeling himself. It had been a while since he’d spoken like this. “He.”

Ghost was silent for a moment, giving Mumbo a curious look over their shoulder before laying their head back in the sand, still weak. ‘We call you,’ Ghost stopped, switching to human, “They. Them. He-“ ‘-implies a concept that does not exist for us. You will not understand. Has to do with human reproduction. Kind of. It is unnecessarily complicated. Do yourself a favor and don’t worry about it.’

‘I like human things. You can call me-‘ “-He.”

For some reason, the human found this incredibly funny, cackling to itself from the other side of the beach, but Ghost didn’t seem to care, only waving their tail (was it shorter?) in a lazy gesture. “You heard him.”

“I like this mermaid. You think I could lure him back home? Oh, I’d love to have two. Keep him as a little guard dog, have him eat anyone that steps foot on my island. Oh- or- Well, I don’t think I could split my soul again, but it would be nice to have options. Maybe he’d complain less. Or maybe he wouldn’t swim all the way out to sea on days we’re meant to switch back, yeah?”

Ghost bristled, looking angry for the first time since the human arrived, and Mumbo’s fins rose in turn. “No. You’re stuck with me. And that was your fault anyway, you seem to forget that when you blackout drunk, I also blackout. I didn’t know where the hell I was when I woke up. He brought me here. Please, I’d hate to subject anyone else to dealing with you like I have to.” Mumbo struggled to read their tone, unable to parse the bitterness in the beginning from the last sentiment that almost sounded like a joke, too exaggerated. It was difficult to tell if Ghost was genuinely angry or not.

But the human ignored them, turning instead to address Mumbo, ‘Do you come here often?’

Faster than Mumbo could process the question, Ghost snatched at Mumbo’s arm, and while Mumbo yanked away with a hiss, Ghost was not deterred, grabbing again despite their weakness and not flinching when Mumbo snapped forward in a warning feint. Instead, they pushed Mumbo’s hand to their chest at a spot where the skin was split by a massive scar. Surprise stopped Mumbo in his tracks- he hadn’t seen any scars across Ghost’s body, the colors too difficult to differentiate in his state of poor eyesight, but now that he knew it was there, he could just make out the difference. The scar extended above and below where his hand sat on their chest, all the way past Ghost’s eye and down to the midsection of their tail. It wasn’t thin either, jutting particularly badly across their stomach- how had Ghost even survived an injury that severe?

Ghost looked directly at him when they spoke, unwavering, ‘It did that. Dangerous human. Stay away.’

“I did not!” the human shrieked, then seemed to realize a bit too late it had spoken in the wrong language, ‘I healed it! I saved them!-‘ “-Come on, Etho! What’re you doing that for!? And here I thought you liked to have a little fun sometimes. You’re not still mad, surely not, you like the life you’ve carved out for yourself on land. Is a little inconvenience still worse than being dead to you?”

“This isn’t about me.”

“Is it not? Would you really put a price tag on your life, Etho? From where I’m standing, our deal was perfectly fair.”

Ghost grunted. “I didn’t get a choice.”

“You agreed! You shook my hand!”

“Why are you dredging this back up,” Ghost frowned, something like a growl leaving their throat, “I don’t care how many times you repeat yourself, you will never get me to say that choosing between my life and your ‘deal’ was fair. I’m past it. It’s time for you to let it go.”

The human quieted, something conflicted crossing its face before it looked away, grabbing fistfuls of sand in the water. For the first time since it arrived at the beach, it spoke without an edge. “But I want you to. I want you to be okay with it.”

Ghost was silent for a long moment, but there was nothing bitter behind their next words; honestly, there wasn’t any emotion at all. “I know.”

Mumbo didn’t know what to do. In all honesty, the human was looking very biteable right now, but Ghost had asked him not to, and maybe whatever they were arguing about was a ‘them’ issue anyway. If Ghost wanted to, they could probably bite the human themself, no need for Mumbo’s input.

But he didn’t get to think about it much longer, not before both the human and Ghost fell back almost limply, shallow, harsh breaths leaving Ghost’s lips, while the human groaned.

And then something split, Ghost’s tail, cracking apart with an awful squelching pull, their scales melting and dissolving like bone against magma. Mumbo reared back, blind fear lifting most of his body from the water before flying in the other direction. He choked on segmented hiss, and the human cackled, any hints of softness to its voice dead, replaced by vindictive edges. Had it done that to Ghost- did Ghost know? What- Was Ghost even a mermaid at all? Was this some sort of trick?

Terror sent Mumbo rocketing into deeper water, distressed by how little space he had to retreat. The lake wasn’t small, but it wasn’t endless either, not like the ocean; Mumbo couldn’t just swim away forever. He needed to hide. There was a nook a tad deeper into the lake where Mumbo typically stored his things, so he pushed himself down, holing up until he was too far to hear anything from the cove at all. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong with both of them. Mumbo struggled to catch his breath, unable to shake the image from his mind. He had never wanted two beings so gone from his place at the beach- Mumbo had always imagined sharing it with others, making a real home out of his little cove, but suddenly, nothing was more terrifying than a stranger. Betrayal burned through his blood just as hot as terror. If that human was so dangerous, why did Ghost call it a friend in the first place? Why did they bring it to his safe space- actually, how did the human find them at all?

Mumbo wasn’t sure how long he spent tucked away at the bottom of the lake. He was too big to completely fit in the rocky nook, but the mud at the bottom of the lake blended well with his scales, so he sat mostly obscured and stared up at the surface, head and parts of his tail poking out among the mud. Just.. waiting for something to happen. For Ghost, whatever they were, to leave, and for their human friend(?) to take its things and go as well, and to never see them again. Not in his cove, no. Not where he was supposed to be safe.

There was no movement for so long, Mumbo wondered if he’d missed Ghost leaving. If he had failed to spot them, though, it seemed unlikely with the improvements in his eyesight since he and Ghost had first met.

More likely, Ghost had never left the cove. Mumbo couldn’t see how they wouldn’t be dead, not with splitting tails and melting scales. They were so sick, the human too- Had they both died? It turned Mumbo’s stomach to think there were two corpses on his beach, rotting in the sun. What would he do with them? He certainly wouldn’t want his humans to find them. (But maybe that was the best case scenario. They couldn’t threaten his space if they were dead.)

And then there was movement, a large disturbance in the water followed by an even larger mermaid, the dark shape that was distinctly not Ghost.

They moved slowly, languid through the water, scanning the area with narrowed eyes, clicking soft and curious as they moved. Mumbo forced himself to be completely still, completely quiet. They were looking for him, he was sure of it, dark eyes raking malevolently across the lake floor. He didn’t know what it was about this mermaid that was so wrong, that made him so afraid, so sure they meant him harm, but Mumbo wasn’t about to question his gut feeling, not when he was so petrified.

To his great relief, the mermaid did not linger for very long, kicking off in the direction of the river after only a few more minutes of lazy drifting.

But even after Not-Ghost was long gone, Mumbo did not surface. He did not want to know what was on his shores. He did not want to see any more creatures of the sun.

…

Scar stood, hunched over his desk with his mouth agape, unable to shut it, but equally unable to say any words at all. That was Etho. His friend Etho. On his trail cameras. Walking away after growing legs.

“What the fuck.” Grian said, slotted below him in Scar’s desk chair, eyes equally wide. Yeah. That about summed it up.

#hermitcraft #hermitfic #mumbo jumbo #ethoslab #joel smallishbeans #smallishbeans #grian #gtws #goodtimeswithscar #hermitcraft fic #mumbomaid au

96 notes · View notes

puppetmaster13u · 2 months

Text

SO I was inspired by This Reblog and absolutely adore any and all dragon Aus. And was hit with a rapid bit of inspiration.

Danny sighed through his nose, rolling his shoulders as another blob coiled across his arm like a serpent. It was an interesting thing, how they mimicked other forms, though he didn't understand all of it.

Normally they wouldn't mimic him so much, not so strongly at least. But well, the ghosts here were mere whispers, visible to a few and unable to interact much. Which is what really brought him here in the first place.

Apparently something is blocking the access to the Realms here, enough that someone needs to do something about it. And look, he's not the Ghost King (thank fuck, he'd never be able to have Star-Time if he was) but he does sort of have a job to do. As the child of Time and new Ancient of Space to-be.

Not to mention that as said new Ancient-of-Space-to-be the Observants can't complain that much about him entering a world they didn't like.

And oh boy, this world. Yikes. There's some corrupted stuff freaking everywhere (even if not visibly), and monsters. And he does mean monsters, a lot of these things are corrupted as all heck- though thankfully the skeletal undead ones leave him alone no matter what form he takes.

On the other hand? There's this little gremlin child that reminds him of Ellie that runs into him repeatedly. Danny is starting to think it's on purpose actually. Child? Child where are your caretakers, you can't just charge at the lion-horse people- ... Danny despises prophecies. Alright child, he's going to start following you because you haven't even eaten tonight apparently. And your weapon has broken. Twice. And you're apparently surrounded by ghosts, how has he not noticed- alright. OKAY. This is fine.

-------------------------

Link, would like everyone to know, that he is actually having so much fun right now! There's this sort-of Hylian that he found when looking for Koroks whose sort of like a stal-hylian? Or something? But they're nice!

And they have wings! He thought it was some sort of cloak at first, but no, they're full on wings! And he's going to convince them to take him flying. He will.

After he takes care of this itching on his back, because it's getting really distracting...

Yes I used Flight Rising specifically because @fairy-lights-and-blobs mentioned it specifically for Danny's wings.

A Danny & Link <3 But also feel free to imagine them as mixed with any dragon really.

#DPxLOZ #DP x loz #legend of zelda crossover #danny phantom crossover #dragon danny #prompts #No joke somewhere I have a story I never posted/finished of dragon Link from when BotW First came out #You know how we have amity getting liminal?#I am just saying Link is probably at least a little liminal #What with the reincarnation & near-death & revival-healing & ghosts #And the fact he can use some abilities from said ghosts #Look Link also deserves to be dragon boi #Even if he's still hylian-dragon probably #Danny went Dad Mode within the first 3 meetings with Link #The Blobs being natural filters are helping with the corruption going on #go wild #Also Danny deserves to be some sort of cryptid to everyone not Link #Like uncanny valley but also I mean #He's practically a space dragon god lol

90 notes · View notes

salmonight · 1 year

Text

DannyMay 2023, Day 2: Backpack

Tittle: Hey Kid, Wanna Buy a Blob Ghost?

Summary: Where Danny acts like a drug dealer with a bunch of blob ghosts in his bag and Tim in his sleep deprived state goes along with it with the mentality of 'I've seen weirder shit in my life'

The day began like any other for Tim.

He trudged up from the bat cave where he had spent the night skimming through case files, dragging his legs into the kitchen to get his very-much-needed essence of life, coffee. It was a requirement to regain the minimum clarity that was needed to push through another day at the hellhole called school.

After his cup of heaven, he slowly trailed up to his bedroom to make himself at least somewhat presentable to the public. Luckily, Tim ran into none of his early-rising family members during the short walk.

He got ready at a sluggish pace, then left the manor before he was forced to socialize with anyone at this accursed hour.

Tim liked to arrive early. Not because he was a model student, no, but because it meant avoiding the swarm of hormonal teens that he would have to wrestle his way through to get to class, unlike if he arrived just before the bell rang, like most students did.

Tim sat down at his usual table and started nursing his second cup of coffee of the day. He stared into the void while letting his mind wander, enjoying the silence while it lasted.

He was broken out of his daze far too quickly by the sound of a bag roughly dropping to the floor next to him. His eyes followed the tanned hand that had released it, up to a face with mesmerizing bright blue eyes. Danny, his mind supplied. He sat next to Tim in most of their classes.

Tim watched as Danny carelessly threw himself into the chair, tired enough not to react even when a loud creaking noise was let out of the poor abused thing. Any other day, he would have looked away and continued his daydreaming, but today, his brain wasn’t cooperating with him.

His eyes trailed back down towards the ground and got stuck there. He simply couldn't turn his gaze away from the backpack. Tim blinked his eyes sleepily.

If he were any more awake, his common sense he would have stopped him, but as it was, he jerked his chin towards the back and quipped

"Hey...what's in the bag?"

Danny snapped his head towards him, as if startled by the question, then proceed to scan Tim with analytical eyes. Seeming to come to the conclusion, that yes, he is going to show Tim what's in the bag, he resolutely nodded his head with a sharp motion. After looking around carefully for any intrusive eyes and seeing none, he bent down towards his bag.

Any other day, the well seasoned movements that screamed 'criminal' would have sent the alarm bells in Tim's head ringing, but as his luck had it, his brain still hadn’t caught up to speed yet.

With a swift motion that would make any drug dealer green with envy, Danny zipped open the backpack and slowly turned it's open mouth towards Tim with a suggestive gaze.

"I can tell you’re in need of some relaxation. Would you like one? It's free of charge!"

Tim slowly blinked at the contents of the bag.

The contents of the bag slowly blinked back at him.

They continued to stare at each other for a few seconds before Tim shrugged. 'Why the hell not, I’ve seen weirder shit', he thought, then proceeded to make grabby hand motions towards the green glowing balls of cuteness.

Grinning as if he won the lottery, Danny’s gorgeous blue eyes lit up with pure excitement. With a single swish, he grabbed one of the blobs out of the bag and unceremoniously dumped it straight into Tim's open palms.

The texture felt extremely weird. Cold, but not freezing, corporeal, but incorporeal. Fluffy, and yet smooth at the same time. Squishing it a few times as a test, Tim decided that, yes, these were also amazing stress balls.

The little thing blinked up at him with huge puppy eyes. Tim could swear it was telling him to pet it, so he indulged and started stroking its head. The creature’s eyes closed and it let out what was almost a purring noise.

Tim was lost in the feeling of his hands smoothing along its tiny form for a while before he snapped out of it and remembered, he wasn't alone and looked up. Danny was still grinning at him, but now an amused light had found its way into his gaze as well. Tim could only give him a sheepish smile in return.

Tim would have liked to spend a much longer time like this, but good things can't last forever, and the arrival of the first student popped their little bubble of tranquility.

With inhuman speed, Danny snatched the blob out of his hands, dumped it back into his backpack, and zipped it shut in a single motion. Tim watched it all in stunned silence, his half asleep brain still not quite processing everything that’s happened.

Danny turned towards him again, leaned in, and whispered with a coy smile on his lips-

"If you would like some more of the 'stuff', you know where to find me."

Then he topped it off with a wink and returned to his seat.

Tim would have filed the whole incident away as a sleep-deprived hallucination... if not for when he sat down the next day, he found his hands immediately full with a green blobby little angel once again.-

AO3 Link

The one that helped betaing this work once again is the lovely Amateum! Similarly once again let's thank IgnotusSomnium for the pawsome tittle!

#dannymay2023 #dannymay #dannymay day 2 #batpham #batpham fanfic #phandom event #blob ghosts #danny phantom #danny fenton #Tim Drake #cross posted on ao3

104 notes · View notes

lightofthemoonglow · 7 months

Note

Hi idk if you take requests through here but I saw that you write for Milton Dammers and I'd love to request a short fic of him. Sfw or nsfw is okay

Yes, I do take requests! It’s just been a crazy time for me. And i lost the last half of this, but i wanted to get it out because you had been waiting for too long. But i did write some Milton stuff for kinktober that’s coming out tomorrow (10/16)

Summary: you only see him when you’re not fully yourself

Contains: some sort of relationship with a ghost. A lot of handwaving to get to the main plot. Mentions of divorce, infidelity

–

This had been your husband’s idea. Buying and fixing up this old hospital, turn it into a bed and breakfast or maybe some sort of museum. He had what everyone calls ‘fuck you money’, so it hadn’t really affected your finances. All it had required was for you to pick up and move to the other side of the country, leaving behind all of your friends and family. Thankfully as a writer, you can work from anywhere, even a camper parked behind a rundown old hospital.

The two of you hadn’t been the first to try and fix up the place. After some sort of incident back in the 90s, there had been renewed interest in the property. It had been passed around, one hopeful to another. So it’s not long before enough has been repaired for you to move in and actually live in the place.

But that had been long enough for your husband to get bored of the endeavor and leave. It’s a tale as old as time, song as old as rhyme. A man finds out the reality of a situation that is of his own making isn’t as fun as the fantasy and leaves his wife of nearly a decade for a lifestyle influencer that can’t even legally rent a car. And the wife is left picking up the pieces. You’ve seen this play out a thousand times in the three decades plus a few years you’ve been on this earth and it’s not fun being on the other side of things.

Since your name is on everything and the settlement is fucking amazing due to how things ended, along with alimony, you can afford to stay in Fairwater. So you do.

Not long afterwards, things start getting weird.

You wake up and you’re both exhausted and not where you had fallen asleep. Things have been moved and you don’t remember doing it. Sometimes, you swear that you can hear a voice and it’s like whoever he is…he’s standing right behind you. You can feel fingers on the back of your neck, sometimes even in your hair. Sleepwalking has been a problem since you were a child, that isn't a new thing. What's new is how you feel afterwards, this presence that has been lurking ever since you started doing it again.

So you install a camera that you get from some guy named Frank, who claims his stuff can see what the naked eye cannot and hope for the best.

When you watch the footage the night after, you drop your cup of coffee.

You’re up, you’re about, you’re talking to…something. It’s not much, but it’s definitely something weird. It’s a silvery blob that’s vaguely human shaped. You can see fingers form from the blob, you can see them reaching out, grazing your face before it flickers and then vanishes. There's a respectable distance between you and whoever, whatever this is. Someone wants their personal space and you wonder which one of you it is.

You want to know who this is. What he wants, if he wants anything.

–

Milton has seen so many people come and go from this place since he’s been here.

He isn’t trapped here. But he prefers to stay here, away from society. Away from the noise, the chaos of the world out there. Thanks to him, this place has not been occupied for long. But you won’t leave, no matter what he does. And it hits him that you haven’t noticed. In the haze that has come over you since your husband has left, you don’t care that things are out of place. The odd noises go unheard, even his presence is only noticed when you’re sleepwalking.

It’s as if you know what pain is, beyond what he’s witnessed. If only he still had the tools at his disposal that he’d had in life.

Five nights after you try that camera, you’re up again.

You move through the house in silence and Milton barely manages to shove a table in the way to keep you from falling down the stairs. You look right at him, as if seeing him for the first time even though he’s been following you since you got out of bed.

“I missed you,” you whisper, reaching for him in the dark, as if by instinct.

“You don’t. You can’t.” Because in the morning, you won’t remember this. You won’t remember this, standing with him in the hallway, talking to home with an ease people had never had around him when he’d been alive. You won’t remember him tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers going through the shell of it, unable to make contact for more than a second.

“Maybe one day, I will.”

And all he can do is hope that will come to pass.

#my writing

11 notes · View notes

hannahmanderr · 9 months

Note

SKULKER AND EMBER!!

Skulker/Ember - Hunter's Flame

(immediately after the events of "Girls' Night Out")

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Suffering defeat at the hands of the dipstick was humiliating enough. Suffering defeat at the hands of the dipstick's loser humans was even worse.

Ember leaned back into the couch and rolled her neck. Being stuck in that stupid thermos always gave her a nasty crick in the neck. At least the girlfriend, the one with the killer fashion sense, had enough decency to let her and Kitty and Spectra out sooner rather than later. Now instead of excruciating pain, she was only in severe pain.

Physically, at least. Mentally, the pain was definitely excruciating.

Especially knowing she'd had to slink her way through the Badlands with her tail between her legs... back to Skulker's place. Who, the last time she'd seen him, had gotten into a huge fight with her.

Surprisingly though, Skulker wasn't in his home. Nor was he anywhere on his island.

Which was a shame, because if this humiliating defeat had done anything, it'd made her realize she needed to tell him a few things. Which... would also be majorly embarrassing.

Not to mention that the longer he didn't show, the more of her nerve she lost.

Something clattered loudly in the kitchen. Ember immediately sat up (and winced when her neck protested it).

"Ancients, I swear if another one of his stupid 'trophies' found its way in here again..." she grumbled as she stormed off to investigate.

What she found, though, was not one of the many animals roaming the island, but a little green blob ghost rooting around in a drawer.

"Hey! Get out of here!" Blob ghosts were commonplace enough that they usually staked out a claim around ghosts' lairs, but usually they knew to stay out of the lair proper, let alone dig around in private places within the lair.

She shot a little bolt of energy at it - nothing strong enough to harm it. The shot hit and the blob...

... squealed?

"waitwaitwait!"

Blob ghosts also didn't usually talk.

Still with energy called up, she approached where the blob had fallen out of the drawer after getting hit. "What the...?"

"it's me, it's me! don't shoot me!"

"Aaaand, I'm supposed to know you?"

The blob ghost finally righted itself and stood on tiny little legs she hadn't seen before. It zipped up to meet her at eye level.

"yes! it's me, skulker!"

"... Huh?"

The blob ghost - Skulker, apparently - rolled his eyes. "yes, okay? this..." He sagged, dejected. "look, this is me, alright? my true form..."

Ember's eyes narrowed. "Really, huh? That's awfully convenient, how am I supposed to know you're really Skulker?"

He sighed and crossed his teeny arms with a huff. "because... because i went out on a hunt for you. to... make up for the whole tv remote thing, alright?"

Her core stuttered. "Ancients, is that really you? And - whoa whoa, wait. You went on a hunt? But what happened to... everything?" She waved a hand around his body.

"it's my ecto-skeleton. it makes me more... formidable. helps me hunt." He wouldn't meet her eyes as he rubbed a hand up and down his arm. "i didn't want it to be a big deal. especially with..."

"With... me?" Static filled her brain. "But why?"

"why? what do you mean, why? because why would a powerful ghost like you even look twice at a whelp like me?" His cheeks darkened as he spoke. "i was embarrassed, alright? i didn't want you to laugh and throw me aside, because i l- uhh, i care about... what you think of me."

"Hey, hey, chill out metalhead," she said. The pet name finally made him look up at her, and she offered a tiny smile and an outstretched hand. Warily, Skulker settled into the palm of her hand and yes, now that she was in contact with him, she could feel that this really was him.

"you... you're not mad?" he asked, almost sounding like he couldn't even dare himself to ask.

"Mad?" She scoffed. "'Course I'm mad, I'm pissed! You've been lying to me this whole time!"

"... oh."

"But I don't hate you," she said, and this time, her smile widened. "Look, I realized some things over the weekend, and if you were serious about trying to make up for the remote, then... well, I can't exactly hate you after that, you know?"

He looked up again. "really? you're... okay with this?"

"Obviously." She rolled her eyes, but the smile remained. "And... as much as it pains me to say, I'm... sorry for calling you a bad hunter. I shouldn't have gotten so close to your core like that. Not when you're someone I, er, care about a lot too."

Carefully, she leaned down and planted a little kiss on the top of his blobby head. When she pulled away, she couldn't help but laugh at his stunned face.

"So," she said, mischief dancing in her voice. "Let me guess. You went after the kid, didn't you?"

"... oh, just help me find the key to my backup shed."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

~~Send me a ship and I'll write the first scene that comes to mind with them!

#danny phantom #skulker #ember #ask hannah #ask game #hunter's flame #scarletsaphire #idk #this one is what it is lolol #thanks for the ask!!

17 notes · View notes

ghostseaboi · 1 year

Text

Old Scrap Art (part one)

(From what I like to call it)

-The Zedaph drawing was the very first one I did on my ipad

-The “Bdubs on a fish hook sitting” drawing was for my portfolio

-The comic (Its an AU I made which is them in Slime rancher game thingy) was supposed to be my portfolio but I decided to make another and submit instead (Its my very first post)

-The Scar drawing I did is for a video. (I need to redraw that because it looks bad-)

-I used a base reference on the Impulse drawing I did (hmm strange, why Impulse have a blue pupil-?)

-The Bdubs drawing was so Random and it look weird-

-I tried to do pixel art on Xisuma, it look not bad actually. Wow

-I like the ghost-Bdubs on the Etho drawing oop

-Ah yes, the one and only Etho blob. Anyways, I made that for my teacher.

I just wanted to post this since I had nothing at the moment whoops

#ImpulseSv #hermitcraft #bdoubleo100 #ethoslab #double life #xisuma #zedaph #goodtimewithscar #double life goodtimeswithscar #bored #implusesv #bdubs fanart #etho and bdubs #xisumavoid

10 notes · View notes

ponds-of-ink · 1 year

Text

Investigating Patient 46 (Part 1 - Narrowing Down the Options)

AKA Trying to “prove” the Patient 46 hill I’m willing to die on because the other options are just… wrong to me.

Keep in mind that, until we get actual proof from any future FNAF games or books (I guess?), this is also conjecture. Though this is a hill I’m willing to die on, hopefully I’ll be humble enough to accept that I’ve been wrong when the time comes.

All right, so here’s the usual suspects that I’ve seen get brought up when talking about Patient 46:

*Gregory

*The Ruin Girl/A New Character

*Vanny (as a split personality a la Jekyll and Hyde thanks to Glitchtrap)

*Elizabeth haunting Vanessa… for some reason?

Let’s debunk Greg first, since there’s more straightforward proof.

In a FNAF Reddit post, there was confirmation that 46 is a girl in both the Italian and Spanish translations thanks to which versions of certain words were used. In the comments of said post, the German and Chinese translations also called Patient 46 a girl. So this isn’t a one-off translation error.

That means Greg or any other known male character can be ruled out instantly.

This still leaves The Ruin Girl, who is a kid. How do you debunk her since she’s a child too?

Well, you can thank Therapist 1 from 46’s first tape.

“…Don’t you think the sessions are more successful when you talk to me? You know, everyone associated with this company gets performance reviews, right? When my sessions don’t get results, my reviews aren’t very good…”

Therapist 1 is a company-hired therapist straight from the get-go. Unless Fazbear Entertainment can somehow hire therapists that exclusively deal with kids (which I doubt, because I don’t think Faz Ent. files under government, school, or private practice [and yes, I checked to see where child therapists typically work]), then this debunks any living/potential robot kids being the culprit.

Side note: another therapist says she works with kids, but there’s more to that statement I think we’ve missed:

“You know, I work with people of all ages, from little kids to the very elderly and everyone reacts to tragedy differently. “

Which means she’s not a one age-range only therapist. She’s probably only talking down because she figures “this poor girl’s acting childish”.

But, going back to the main topic, what about ghost kids? How can we debunk Elizabeth somehow haunting Vanessa during this period? Or, alternatively, how can we debunk that this is about her at all?

Let’s start with the (hopefully) easier task of proving that she’s not even in the main game.

As MatPat brought up in the Blob Theory, the Blob itself is made up of wires and jumbled-up animatronics with glowing faces… Except not all of them are glowing. The Puppet and Circus Baby are noticeably lacking those red glows in their eyes. Which likely means that Charlie and Elizabeth have already been set free by this point. Must be a huge relief to those concerned about Henry not being to reunite with his daughter after FNAF 6.

Now, what about disproving that a certain topic in those tapes that could apply to Elizabeth? Well, this is more speculative and character analysis-driven, but it’s something I want to throw out there.

Why exactly, in any interpretation of William/Glitchtrap’s character (who, btw, is most likely also with Vanessa at this point regardless of Liz being there or not), would there be some form of eagerness to play along and say “yes, I was a terrible dad”? Or at least a high enough tolerance of this accusation to let Vanessa act this story out?

If he was as cruel to his kids or hyper-obsessed with the idea of family as some speculate, then wouldn’t his pride get in the way somehow? The “cruel to his kids” would most likely go ‘yeah, I made ‘em squirm but they deserved it’ while the family-obsessed one would outright jump in and go “are you crazy? I was a great father! my kids were the problem! That’s why I made a ‘better’ one!”, etc.

On the flip side, I can see why the more neglectful/trying to be decent portrayal of Afton could play along more willingly. Probably a way to show that he shares adult Michael’s habit of trying to making amends… in his own very twisted way. The only concern I have is that, outside of the original book trilogy’s timeline, there isn’t really much evidence to support Elizabeth really being harmed in any way. He tries to protect her from Circus Baby, Scrap Baby sounds very eager to please but in a more “look, Daddy, I’m like you now! >:D” kinda tone in that ending speech from FNAF 6, and the fact that she’s gone at all instead of being like “oh no my dad tricked me I gotta talk with somebody :(“ is um… Weirdly telling.

And that’s not even covering the other stuff I brought up in another post where I talked about a couple of the Fazbear Frights epilogues. I’d link that, but hmmm… Nah. I’ll send you to a post who can sum up my current train of thought a whole lot better. Besides, OP makes better points for this than I can off the top of my head.

Point is Elizabeth is neither (1) Patient 46 and (2) most likely not the one who gave the false testimony at that custody case… Unless that gets disproven later somehow in Ruin.

Which leaves us with two things: Vanny is Patient 46 and none of the crossed out patients have that custody case backstory. Yes, not even Gregory or Elizabeth, though I can see why people would think that.

So, that leaves us with a whole bunch of new questions. Whose past is 46’s? Was the custody case even real? Is Vanessa some lost Afton kid we missed somehow?

Hopefully, I’ll be able to answer those questions in a part 2.

(Oh and uh… Yeah I forgot about the completely new character option. Oops. I guess I can’t really “debunk” someone we don’t really know about yet, huh? Hmm. My only problem with this is: Why exactly introduce some other new villain when there’s Vanny and Glitchtrap already there in the shadows, waiting for their proper turn? Idk, it just feels weird from a writing standpoint atm.)

#patient 46 #fnaf theory #pond rambles #fnaf security breach #vanessa fnaf #elizabeth afton #gregory fnaf #william afton #glitchtrap #part 1 #long post #it’s late at night as I post this #so sorry if this doesn’t make sense at some points #i tried my best with research

8 notes · View notes

waywardstation · 1 year

Note

There are actually very few Pokemon that I actively dislike. (In fact some of the few that I actually do dislike are some of the most popular. >.< ) But of the Pokemon that I quite like but people in general don't seem to... Off the top of my head, the first thing to come to mind is Stunfisk. It's ugly and has not very great stats and I love it! :D It's one of those Pokemon that's just so dumb I can't help but to adore it! I even gave Emmet a Stunfisk in A Pale Reflection because I feel like it's the kind of Pokemon that would be right up his alley! Unpopular and terrible stats, but he'll make it work! (Also Stunfisk genuinely has some potential for Double Battles. For some reason it can learn like... All the moves that effect everyone on the field like Earthquake Discharge etc.)

A lot of people in my past experiences have pointed to gen v to say that Pokemon has run out of ideas and makes bad, uninspired Pokemon. Those people are wrong but eh. What can you do, right? But I like gen v and its Pokemon! I think they're mostly great all around! Because of Emmet and Ingo, I do feel like I need to fight for the Klinklang line! Because at least in the context of Emmet and Ingo, they are incredibly fantastic Pokemon that say so much about their characters and I love them! (I also think that I'm the only one to headcanon that those were their starters and not Litwick and Tynamo because Klink just suit the two of them SO well!) Genesect is my favorite legendary, and I think that people overall are just very meh on it. Garbodor is just a good friend! And people who shit on Garbodor are fools I tell you! FOOLS!

Outside of gen v though... People seem very divided on Klefki. People either HATE Klefki or LOVE Kefki. I'm in the camp that loves it personally! I don't know how people feel about Pyukumuku, but I just wanna squish them very badly. I for one LOVED tossing the Pyukumuku back out to sea in gen vi I want to smoosh the friend. I don't think that people have an opinion on Minior generally speaking but I like it because SPACE! SPAAAAAACE!!! SPACE!!!!!!!! Tropius is a friend I quite enjoy that I don't think people hardly ever talk about. Swalot... I have no idea why but Swalot just makes my brain tingle in joy. Maybe it's the mustache. It's probably the mustache. Swalot may just be very gender to me. I too just want to be a giant purple blob with a mustache. Dunsparce may not be a very good Pokemon. But I enjoy it. It's a friend! And I can't exactly put my finger on why my brain is always so pleased to see Chinchou and Lanturn... Probably just because I like bioluminescence...

But overall... Bug Pokemon. Bug Pokemon are terrible, but I love them. I love them oh so very much! If gen v gave us anything, it gave us fantastic Bug-Types! Every single Bug-Type in gen v SLAPS! (Except Durant. Sorry Durant.) I LOVE Bug-Types! Third favorite type! (Ground is #1, second is Ghost (but everyone loves Ghost. I don't think that there is a single Ghost-type that people don't generally love!) and third is Bug!) I also quite like Normal-Types because I like weird little gimmick Pokemon ideas. Normal is definitely an underrated type with a lot of fun little possibilities. I would definitely like to do a monotype run using just Bug or Normal types some time. >.<

So yes. Pokemon! I like! :D

There are a few popular Pokémon that I’m also not particularly fond of either haha

But! There are several Pokémon you’ve named that I absolutely love!! Klinklang was an immediate favorite of mine when Gen 5 came out; we have so few Pokémon that look like actual machines, and I am always wanting more!!

Tropius is another great Pokémon, so underrated; I keep hoping for a second evolution stage, or even pre-evolution stage for it. I have a sitting cuties of Tropius and I love them.

Chinchou is another favorite of mine because it used to be a favorite of one of my childhood friends (and we’re still friends!), so favorite by proxy haha

But yes!! Love love love all of Gen v’s bug types!!! So many good ones; scolipede’s line is one of my favorites.

Great list of Pokémon favorites here, OP!! Thanks for sharing!

#also I am now curious as to why you don’t like Durant haha

6 notes · View notes

balshumetsbaragouin · 3 months

Text

Daily Excerpt: Passion

Getting back on track, it's time for another excerpt! This time, because chapter fourteen is drawing near, let's have a bit from Chapter Sixteen: A Rupture and Aestuous Awakening

___________________________________________________________

She backed away from the bed, and leaned back to squint up at him. “When was the last time you dusted under there?”

“Dusted? I’d have to move the bed to do that.”

“Everyone knows that the floor under the bed belongs to the gnomes. It’s how you give them sacrifices so they don’t eat your homework or your favorite socks. How would you like it if I just cleaned up your house without asking?”

“There are no closet or under-the-bed gnomes that protect your electronics from getting lost on your messy bedroom floor.”

“Yes there are! I feed mine all the time, and that’s why my stuff never gets lost, but yours and Danny’s does.”

“Dude, there are actual supernatural things that exist, and you want to defend bedroom gnomes?”

“I named mine Franklin and Ross. They eat corn chips.”

“You can’t just leave corn chips on your floor! You’re gonna deep-fry your mom’s vacuum.”

“Oh, she gave up cleaning in there around the start of middle school. Now there’s nothing between me and the offerings to the gnome boys to protect my homework and devices. Besides, we just learned curses and ‘liminal objects’ were real. How do you know that house gnomes aren’t real?”

“Myths about Brownies who help clean and protect kitchens and like offerings exist all throughout medieval Europe.” Jazz added from her spot next to Tucker.

“Those were probably blob ghosts. In Amity, if something goes missing, it’s definitely blob ghosts.” Sam retorted.

“Then how do you know Frankie and Roro aren’t blob ghosts who live under the clothes in my closet?”

“Because you’ve been leaving them chip offerings since before the portal opened!”

“If it is blob ghosts, that would explain them eating corn chips as an offering. Those little guys love nachos and french fries and other fried foods.” He stacked the scanners into a precarious looking pile, balancing the tech Jenga with practiced ease. “Maybe I’ll start leaving some french fries to lure in my own little Frankie.”

“Mom will make you clean the whole house again if she finds more molded fries in a corner of your room, Danny.”

#Danny Phantom #Danny Phantom Fanfiction #DP Fanfic #Passion and Plasmatic Plague #PaPP #Daily Excerpt #Balshumet's Baragouin

1 note · View note

rioshio · 1 year

Text

i’m ranting about the shit that happened in ptu (pokemon table top)here because AAAAAA the people i would rant to are playing so i can’t say anything

so first kyoto is my character

i’m just gonna copy and paste what i sent to my dm

also i’m to lazy to correct it all but i meant to put team rocket not rocket league i..words no work

the first half of kyotos childhood was just being trapped within rocket league along with his brother (was kinda forced into it? like a “okay here you go your doing this now” type of thing)

kyoto was specifically kept for his visions and talent with pokemon which he eventually lost over time due to his brother keeping him from being able to train with any (mostly to protect him from getting deeper into team rocket )

eventually team rocket assigned the two a more rare egg the galrian ponyta egg around this time kyoto had been questioning his own morals along where he stood. a bit before it hatched little koyto had decided he was going to leave with the egg. his brother caught him leaving with it and demanded it be returned and that he go back to resting, upon refusing his brother took out his shinx and a small battle between the two began..or a shinx attacking him and him failing horribly at dodging while trying to keep the egg safe, kyoto eventually jumped for the exit adrenaline keeping him from feeling the max of his pain-his face torn open from taking a hit

he ran into the forest until he couldn’t run he heard his brothers yell as he fell to his knees laying the egg down as it slowly hatched a small galarian ponyta looked at the boy with concern as he fell his vision suddenly becoming blurry before seeing the blobs of a few people and a pokemon who were running up to the two they spoke a few words to him trying to comfort him as they picked him and ponyta up he attempted to escape but had little strength left passing out rather quickly

the next thing the boy woke up to was his face covered in bandages and in a room, it wasn’t to bare it had a few stuffed animals and light red walls the boy immediately tried to get up concerned for the ponyta he ran out to be stopped by a rather tall man who promised everything was okay and that he was safe from whatever situation he had been in.

this was a start to his new life, a safer life.

overtime after being able to recount what had happened he had gained a fear of abusing pokemon the phrase “the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree” being his new biggest fear

when his new caretakers found out they suggested he train ponyta they were a strong pokemon and the actual chances were low. he refused at first but after some time said yes naming it mothine and beginning to care for it along learning all about pokemon for the next several years still staying hesitant and away from most pokemon

eventually his caretakers recommended traveling to another region his experience could come more in handy and could learn ways to interact with little or weaker pokemon without fear, on this he decided to follow their thoughts and left with some necessary items in his backpack onto a boat to the biggest region. if your gonna take on something might as well go big right?

(for context the main region that the campaigns in is a custom one)

ANYWAY SO kyo met a Larvitar on a ship that played with him for awhile and then the Larvitar revealed that it was a ghost that was killed BY HIS FATHER and was brought back to life

this is the notes i wrote on the thing because it was through a trance (i apologize for the mistakes this is was meant for only me so i didn’t bother on making it completely perfect

seeing through its eyes and learn through its memories it had been seriously hurt a human tall looking down black hair green eyes a scar across their nose “your pathetic im done with”

it gets kicked into the water and begins drowning unable to move due to the dmg done

it drifts hitting the bottom water the last thing it sees the last thing it sees is a little red pearl rolling towards the Larvitar

HOLY SHIT

so first i mentioned before to my dm/gm that his father kind of just kicked him to the curb AND THEM GETTING THROWN INTO THE WATER ALONG

ALONG WITH THEM BEING SEEN AS WEAKER WITH KYOS FEAR OF HURTING A SMALL OR WEAK POKEMON TOO MUVH JUSDTT AAAAAAAAAAAA

would like to mention this was my first 1 on 1 for ptu and also my first ‘session’ type of thing with the entire campaign i didn’t know they were gonna attack kyo this early 😭😭😭

#pokemon oc #pokemon #oc rant

1 note · View note

tinandabin · 2 years

Note

How would yandere Muichiro react if he was reunited with someone he made a childhood marriage promise to? The problem here is that she ends up rejecting his confession because while she remembers making such a promise with the nicer Tokito twin and heard one of them died, her memories with the names are bungled up. As such, seeing Muichiro act coldly when they met again made her assume Yuichiro was the one she made the promise to and she is uncomfortable with breaking it by marrying another.

Here you go!! Thank you for requesting.💞

Join my discord!!

Muichiro--

Let us go back into the past with the twins.

It was just another normal hang out with each other with you being the chatter-box as Muichiro was contentedly holding your hand.

Yuichiro was napping because who wouldn't when your angel-like voice was blabbering with the nice evening weather as there was a calm silence.

Now listen up, I don't care if you think your voice is bad it is angel-like. Accept the truth. You can't run from it.

All of a sudden Muichiro with a serious face asked you, "When we get older, will you marry me?"

He would have straight up asked you to marry him now but you cannot. Not now.

And you being a kid agreed with enthusiasm, "YES!! WE WILL GET MARRIED AND LIVE IN OUR HOUSE UPON A HILL WITH LOADS OF ANIMALS AND-AND BABIES!!!"

There came your rant about your dream life which Muichiro is storing every detail. Literally.

And when you ended your rant with glee in your eyes, Muichiro nodded at you with a cute smile and determined face, pretty much ready to make your dream life become reality.

Though he is not very sure about...70 cats, but he will manage.

There came the incident.

After that Muichiro had disappeared without a trace leaving you very upset and sad.

But soon enough, you grew out of it and almost, almost forgot all the memories with the twins when he visited you again. All you remembered was a promise which is gonna cost you everything.

Your mother informed you about someone coming to visit you with happiness, not telling you anything who the heck it is.

And so you went to the room the guest was waiting in.

There sat Muichiro Tokito in all his glory with a dazed expression on his face, it's a surprise he was able to find your home because you shifted multiple times.

Honestly, what would you do if your childhood friend popped outta nowhere after ghosting you??

Slap the shit out of them.

Hot tears rolled down your face as you hit his back and kicked him, hard, or so you thought all the while complaining.

"Why did you LEAVE ME ALL ALONE??!" "THE HECK DID I DO TO YOU??!!!"

But soon enough your frustrations were out when you hugged him tightly as he just melted in your touch. Became a cute blob.

Soon enough you were sitting across him as he calmly looked at you and said, "Let's get married now."

And you were like, "????" with dot eyes as you tilted your head.

But then it hit you the promise you made with Muichiro! Not Yuichiro.

"Yuichiro-san, I made that promise...with your twin brother Muichiro! Not you," You softly laughed as you patted his head.

Now it was his turn to have dot eyes.

".......I am Muichiro...wait I am Muichiro? Oh, yes..I am."

You just made him go through an existential crisis. 😔

But you didn't believe him.

"Stop joking, Yuichiro-san, no offense to you but Muichiro is more...cheerfu!!" Thinking slightly, you cleared the fact that he is, Yuichiro and not Muichiro.

"But we will still get married, right?"

"I made that promise with Muichiro, not you Yuichiro-san, so I am sorry but no, I cannot marry you." Now uncomfortable, you laughed to try and diffuse the awkwardness.

Whatever, Muichiro nodded and went out.

You thought that was the end.

But no, now he has started trying to court you.

Flowers, gifts, kimonos, you name it.

And damn, he once smiled so cutely you melted into a puddle.

That did not seem to work.

His patience is pretty high because he forgets things half the time haha.

I got tired, you got tired, he got tired, we all got tired so bam bam now here you are in his bedroom your hands tied as he is trying to feed you food.

If you had like only believed he was Muichiro and married him you wouldn't be here.

That's cap. You would 100% be here even then.

He is very clingy and I don't know about you, but I love him.

Soon enough when you come to realize that he is Muichiro you do get married, albeit a bit forcefully but do you get your happily ever after?

Nah.

MASTERLIST

#demon slayer #dark #kimetsu no yaiba #kny #yandere #yandere demon slayer #yandere kny #yanderes #yandere muichiro x reader #yandere muichiro #x reader #yandere kny x reader #muichiro #muichiro x reader

470 notes · View notes

omegasmileyface · 3 years

Text

Bound by the Food Chain

"man what if there was something incorporating both the Ghost King and Ghost Hunger aus" i say, not prepared to spend weeks writing up an entire ecosystem structure for the ghost zone,

thanks @attackradish and @ectolemonades for help figuring out the science and writing!

summary: The ghostly Staff who've taken up residence in Phantom's Keep notice Danny doesn't eat any ectoplasmic food. That can't be good for him.

warnings: detailed description of ghost hunger, which is vaguely like cannibalism

words: 2830

AO3 link

===

“King Phantom, when do you feed?”

“Huh?” Danny looked up at the Keep’s Librarian, Vellum. It felt like an odd question, seeing as he was currently actively eating a sandwich he had packed up with him into the Zone. He was spending a few hours in the Keep that day since it was nice and quiet for getting work — from both realms — done, and he had brought some earth food over. Ghost plants just didn’t taste very good.

Vellum looked a little shocked, like she hadn’t realized she’d asked her question aloud. “I mean, clearly you eat human food quite a bit,” she gestured to his sandwich, “but I’ve never seen you take in any sort of ectoplasmic substance.”

Danny wasn’t an expert on the (strangely psychological) ecology of the Infinite Realms, but he was familiar with the fact that all ghosts had to take in some sort of ectoplasm if they wanted to be anything more than an inert impression of emotion. Since he had never gotten any enjoyment or significant energy from eating ghost plants or breathing in the stuff ambient in the air, he pretty much just stuck with eating human food and converting the chemical energy between his forms. He was lucky that he could do that, being part human. He knew he automatically gained some energy from the human emotions around him (including his own, another benefit of being liminal) but it was negligible. He got drained pretty easily, and he knew there were things he wasn’t trying, but… he was tired, not desperate. He’d be tired anyway, with his lack of sleep.

“That’s because I don’t. I can still use the chemical energy I get from human food in my ghost form, so…” he shrugged. “This is pretty much it.”

Vellum’s brows furrowed in concern. “Are you not a—” She pursed her lips. “Are you not tired?”

“What do you mean? I definitely eat more than a regular human, and as far as I’m aware I don’t lose any of my energy in conversion. I’m getting by.”

“I think we should talk to Dr. Marchs. I don’t know if it’s… ok, that you’re not feeding ectoplasmically.”

With some exasperation, Danny let himself be brought back to the Throne room, the preferred place for anything that could constitute a “meeting”. Apparently, talking to the Keep’s Doctor, Chef, and some other Staff members about his diet counted.

The various adult ghosts looked at Danny with shared expressions of confusion and concern from where they stood around him. He was sitting on the arm of the Throne, not the most comfortable but it still felt wrong to be properly seated in it unless necessary.

Dr. Marchs finally spoke their piece. “Forgive me for asking, Your Majesty, but… are you not a hunting-ghost?”

Danny was already out of his league culturally. He had a lot to learn. “As in… like, a predator?”

“Exactly! Your core best processes ectoplasm directly from other ghosts, correct?”

Danny paled. “I don’t… know? I tend to avoid going around, just… eating other sentient creatures.” He tried to say it in a humorous way. It didn’t work.

“So you’ve never tried! I had thought… Well, I think you must be a hunting-ghost. You put out a radiant power that is only associated with that core type.”

“None of us have seen you feeding,” added Vellum, “so we weren’t sure you didn’t just defy that association. I don’t think anyone really understands all the complications of half-human physiology.”

Dr. Marchs jumped back in easily. “It’s still just speculation. You have said that you don’t enjoy eating plants from this realm, yes?” Danny nodded. “And you don’t seem to get significant relief from human emotion. Well, we’re just going to have to have you try feeding on some ghosts.”

Danny jumped to his feet. “What?! I don’t… need that, I get by fine on human food!”

“But aren’t you tired?” pointed out the Chef. Her eyes widened. “That’s why you get so drained after using big attacks! Your energy reserves aren’t being nearly refilled.”

“I believe she’s right, Your Majesty. There’s only so much energy you can take from human food, which isn’t even alive… I think you’re always tired because your core is designed to have a level of energy that you can’t provide it without processing Vital ectoplasm.”

Danny didn’t want to admit that he was consistently pretty damn tired. Instead he tried to change the subject. Ghosts were passionate beings, and as much as he hated to take advantage of that, having one of the Keep Staff gush about one of their passions to him was much better than talking about his relationship with what was essentially cannibalism. “Vital?”

Dr. Marchs’ eyes sparkled a little. “Vital as in living, not as in essential. Ectoplasm comes in three major forms. Ambient plasm makes up most of the Realms, in environments and atmospheres and auras. All ghosts are made up of Vital plasm, and those with cores have their Obsession or Purpose imprinted into the crystal structure of their own ectoplasm, which can be turned into Charged ectoplasm. The Charged form can take up an elemental type according to the ability of its source, and it has the most capacity to hold or be converted into ectoenergy. The Charged form is used to transmit intention onto a target, so it’s generally created by Cored ghosts, who are creatures of intention, in attacks or construction. Regardless of type or state, ectoplasm processing depends on its form — Uncored ghosts can process strong human emotions or Ambient ectoplasm into the Vital type. Among Cored ghosts, hunter-ghosts can best process Vital ectoplasm, gatherer-ghosts the high-activity type of Ambient plasm found in ghost plants, and scavenger-ghosts human emotion. Additionally, Charged plasm no longer linked to the source of its intention will eventually disperse into Ambient, as its most inert form.”

Danny, sitting down, had already known part of that, but the Doctor was properly smiling at this point. Dr. Marchs blushed as they realized they had just been talking, but none of the other ghosts in the room appeared to mind.

“…Regardless, King Phantom, we should really find some blobs for you to try eating. I cannot in good conscience leave you persisting off such low energy.”

He wanted to argue, he really did, but all the Keep Staff present were looking at Danny with this pleading expression. They looked genuinely concerned, and he remembered a comment he’d heard before about some of the Staff latching onto the King with their Obsessions. Some unfortunate result of the connection they’d formed with the Keep, Danny certainly didn’t deserve it, but he did know how it felt to Obsess over taking care of someone and have them turn down that care. With the same concerned look directed back their way, he got up and was led to the Garden out back.

Danny was having second thoughts again once he found himself surrounded by blobs that had been enjoying the intricate plants and high Ambient ecto levels of the Keep Garden. They were squishy but soft, like mochi coated in a good layer of starch, each a bit smaller than his head, and they all looked at him with these big vibrant eyes. Their postures were energetic, like they expected to play a game.

Once he sat down with the rest of the small group — why did he have to have an audience? — the blobs swarmed around him, resting on the sky blue grass and on his shoulders and in the others’ laps. They looked almost as expectant as the Staff in front of him.

“I…“ he bit his lip. “I can’t justify eating a living creature when I can choose not to. I know lots of ghosts have to eat others to persist, but I have the privilege that I can eat human food instead. Since I have that option, I can’t just… end another creature so I can feel a bit better.” Hey, Sam would be proud of him.

The present Staff donned looks of confusion. An Advisor who used the Keep as a home spoke up, eyes wide with realization. “Ah! Living creatures all share a survival instinct — that’s a natural result of evolution, yes? Things that do their best to live have their genes passed on? That’s not necessary for Uncored ghosts, since they do not reproduce and therefore don’t evolve. The only instincts experienced by the Uncored are instincts to better the Realms. Unless they’ve developed a strong individual personality, the Uncored are much more interested in contributing than in persisting.”

Danny’s head tilted in curiosity. Dr. Marchs took the reins on the rest of the explanation.

“The Realms are built socially where the living realm is built physically. Our homes and well-being are made from emotion, belief, and community. So for Uncored ghosts, spawned of the dimension itself, they want their ectoplasm and energy to be where it supports those communities the most, and that means ensuring the health of the ghosts in charge. Generally speaking, the more powerful a ghost is, the more likely they are to have some importance to the Realms. The Uncored — and many Cored — can sense a ghost’s power due to how much excess ectoplasm they let off. In fact, that excess is almost immediately put off as Ambient ectoplasm, meaning that there is simply more Ambient plasm around a powerful ghost, and the Uncored are often attracted since that provides sustenance for them . It’s a mutualistic relationship where one entity feeds off another, and in the end the resources of the weaker ghosts are given to the stronger, supporting the Realms. In fact, there are some cultures who believe that converting ectoplasm into a form the Cored can process is the entire reason for the existence of the Uncored.”

Vellum smiled slightly as she added on, “It’s not an entirely accurate strategy, as the most powerful ghost around is not always going to be a hunter type. They usually are, seeing as that’s the most efficient form of feeding, but it’s not impossible to be otherwise. The result in these cases is Uncored ghosts following around said Cored ghost, and as the same aspect of community comes into play, that ghost soon ends up hanging around a hunter type, who feeds on the prey that was collected.”

Danny cringed a little at the use of the word “prey”.

He looked around at the blobs nuzzled up against him. Those who didn’t look to be something resembling unconscious were peering up at him. They certainly looked expectant, as much as something without even a permanent mouth can.

After he was silent for a few moments, another Staff member spoke up, likely wanting to lighten his mood. “They really do like you! I’m not surprised, even aside from your natural power, the role you play as High King causes ectoplasm to be magnetized to you. I’m sure they’re having a little feast themselves!”

It did not lighten his mood. Danny felt genuinely guilty. Even if he wasn’t doing it on purpose, wasn’t he effectively manipulating these creatures into offering themselves up to be eaten? It wasn’t right, to make them feel as if they want to be ended, just because he had some sort of aura.

But the gathered Staff were still concerned, and anticipatory, and, somehow, hopeful . He couldn’t turn them down at this point. He’d just have to bite into one of the little ghosts surrounding him, just once. He’d throw up, disgusted with himself, and the Staff would realize it wasn’t better for him, and the remaining blobs would remember that they don’t want to die, and they’d flee, and everybody would just leave the subject alone . He only had to try.

(The human dread he was emitting at this point must have been feeding everyone else.)

“…Okay,” he said simply, and gently picked up a blob that had been sitting on his leg.

Before he could rethink himself again, he brought it to his lips. He opened his jaw slightly wider than a human’s would likely go and, fangs instinctually extended, bit down.

Danny was familiar with the scent of ectoplasm. Copper and citrus and battery acid and salt. But when he broke the surface of the small ghost and the viscous fluid burst into his mouth, the salty and bitter aspects were lost on his tongue, replaced by a thick sweetness and the cold tingle of energy. Where his fangs pierced an inch down into the substance of the ghost, he tasted this fulfillment in its emotional ectoplasm. He’s not sure he would have been able to taste it if he weren’t part human. Still, the feeling was something distinctly ghostly, a similar satisfaction to fulfilling an Obsession or a Purpose. It was hard to feel bad, sympathizing automatically with that simple rightness. The way the emotion pressed at his brain, the way the semisolid edges of the ghost slicked against his tongue, his own self-revulsion melted to the back of his mind. The ectoplasmic flesh met his teeth with a thick resistance, but it was nothing to break past it and open up to the deeper substance. It was vibrant, a pure cool energy that pulsed against his fangs. (His core sucked it up greedily.) His mouth met the energy with a pulsing of its own, a harmonizing signal sent from his core throughout his body like a heartbeat. It came out as a low purr that vibrated deep through the charged air around him. He couldn’t help but rush to swallow, though his body absorbed it just as easily without.

The blob ghost had been the size of his foot, and now it was part of the energy making up his own form. Compared to the power his core was passively putting out, to the amount it longed to have refilled, it wasn’t all that much. Unconsciously, his core put out an ectoenergetic signal that he was ready to feed. The blobs around him nuzzled closer yet, making themselves available. Danny could feel a few other Uncored ghosts who were drifting nearby come into the garden and join them.

He looked up from his ectoplasm-stained hands at the Keep Staff. They were looking at him, relieved, pleased (even though they just watched him tear into a living thing and then absorb it into his being like it didn’t even matter, said a part in the back of his consciousness. It was hard to focus on, though. It was coming from his brain, not his hungry core, after all). With his core this active, he could feel the presences of all the other ghosts around. The blobs flocking around him had auras that were weaker than the Cored Staff, but sturdy. There was a balance to them that signaled the ectoplasmic types they were taking in and storing. He sensed the Uncored pulling in the Ambient ectoplasm that sloughed off of him, barely connected to him anymore if not for the weight of the space surrounding him. And he could feel all of their stores of energy-dense Vital plasm.

He could also feel, just as an aspect of his being, his own energy stores. The metaphysical space in his center that his form and all his strength drew from. He could remember, abstractly, the moment he died and that reservoir came to be and was instantly flooded with energy. The way the portal had searched the air until it found his body and his little human soul and used him as a conduit, and all that electricity punched a hole between planes right where his ghost was trying to form, and something tore outward from that starting place just on top of his being, and the vacuum that formed on earth and in the Zone and everything in between pulled until the Infinite Realms rushed his body and in one instantaneous moment his forming core was flooded with enough ectoplasmic energy to become entirely corporeal (if it hadn’t, his ghost wouldn’t have manifested nearly quickly enough to keep him alive), and his being was stretched beyond its limits containing everything. For one moment, he had been filled with more energy than he had thought possible, and his ghost had formed itself to accommodate. Since then he’d felt so… empty. His body took what it could from human food and environmental energy, but it was made for more than that. He had blocked out the awareness of his reserves and gotten used to trying to power all his defenses on so little. He was always so tired.

He still felt low, running on just enough to operate something humanish. But his core had latched on to the ectoplasm provided by the blob, the kind it was designed to process, and finally felt a little relieved. Most ghosts that stayed within the Realms were almost always full. Danny wasn’t nearly there yet.

He reached down and grabbed another blob.

#alt title: What Taco Bell Does to a Bitch #danny phantom #my writing #roxys worldbuilding #i havent posted the Full Ecology Rant so this is as close as my blog is getting rn lmaooooo #ghost hunger #ghost king danny #hey this ones actually edited!#HOW do you people write things more than 5k.....

184 notes · View notes

five-rivers · 3 years

Note

Prompt: some of the blob ghosts like to cuddle up with Danny while he sleeps. One/both of his parents see this when they check his room one night.

Ghosts weren’t alive. They didn’t have cells. They didn’t breathe. Some of them formed from the aether, with no parents to speak of, or were born of things that were not ghosts. That didn’t mean they didn’t participate in an ecosystem of sorts, didn’t mean they weren’t subject to their own, internal logic, didn’t mean that the graces of society and community were lost on them.

As with more material beings, symbiosis was the rule, rather than the exception.

Danny was a protector, and he had the tendency to drive off predators, one way or another. The community of smaller, weaker spirits thrived under his aegis.

Symbiosis. Mutualism. Both sides benefit.

Danny trudged up the stairs, covered in thick, sticky ectoplasm. He’d been on the receiving end of an invention explosion downstairs, and he had more than a few cuts and bruises underneath the rapidly hardening ooze.

Would this even come out in a shower?

He opened the bathroom door and was immediately accosted by a dozen-odd blob ghosts. He quickly bundled them into his arms and pushed them back into the bathroom. This was difficult, because although the smallest of them was about the size of a cat, the largest were the size of toddlers. Wiggly toddlers.

Door shut, and immediate risk of exposure reduced, Danny let go of the ghosts, who nuzzled him, mumbling, whispering, and purring, all the sounds just shy of having meaning. The amoeba-like ghosts didn’t really have mouths or tongues, but nevertheless it certainly felt like they were licking him. He flinched away when one of the smaller ghosts explored the area behind his ear.

At least they were getting something out of this.

The blob ghosts had just shown up one day, and Danny hadn’t the will to drive them off. Plus, not having to clean up all the ectoplasm he got all over himself, his clothing, and his room on a regular basis was nice. Also, they, and some of the other small ghosts that regularly hung out around him, gave his ghost half warm fuzzies. Or cold fuzzies. Whichever.

Of course, even if the blob ghosts did take off all the ectoplasm (and the blood) Danny was still going to take a shower. No matter how comfortable he was with the blob ghosts otherwise, he was not about to take a shower with them. When his skin and hair felt reasonably ectoplasm free, he built up a shield on his skin and used it to gently push away the blob ghosts. The ghosts got the hint, and retreated, mostly invisible, to Danny’s bedroom.

Good. Alright.

Shower, first, then collapse.

(Today had been exhausting.)

About half an hour later, Danny wandered into his room, the blob ghosts waiting for him. He had to shove them around a bit to make room for himself on his bed.

He snuggled underneath his blankets, and the blob ghosts snuggled up next to him, their ruby eyes closed to pleased slits. Their not-weight and coolness were comforting against Danny’s skin.

Too tired to stop it, Danny’s core began to purr. The ghosts’ whispering and muttering took on an edge of giggling, and Danny glared at them playfully. They did not stop.

“Hmmnh, are there more of you?” asked Danny as a middle-sized one claimed a spot near the back of his neck.

He had a theory (unconfirmed) that the blob ghosts and others that lived in his territory were somehow attuned to his emotional state. There always seemed to be more of them around when he was stressed or worn out.

Not getting an answer, he hummed, almost at the same pitch as the blob ghosts, and managed to maneuver the largest so that he could hold it like a teddy bear.

This was good.

He went to sleep.

“I’m going to go check on Danny,” said Maddie.

“He’s probably asleep by now,” said Jack.

“I know. We just pushed him really hard today, and then that explosion at the end...” She sighed. “Not the best way to convince the kids to join the family business.”

“Mhm,” said Jack. “Danny’s tough, though.”

“I know,” said Maddie. She sighed. “He was worn out from all the way in the morning, though. I hope he’s not staying up late playing video games again.”

“No way! He’s learned that lesson. I hope.”

“Yeah, we hope.” She patted Jack’s knee and pushed off the couch. “I’m still going to go check on him.”

She climbed the stairs, smiling at the soft music playing from Jazz’s ajar door. Sometimes she wished Jazz relaxed more, but it was also nice to see her studying.

Danny’s door was firmly closed, but none of the bedroom doors had locks, so Maddie just turned the handle and pushed open the door.

She froze immediately.

The scene in front of her was something akin to finding her child asleep in a pit of snakes, only worse. Much worse. Snakes could kill you. Ghosts could do more.

One of the many, many evilly glowing ghosts slithered up over Danny’s neck, making him shift slightly in his sleep. None of them had noticed her, yet.

She couldn’t wake Danny. He’d panic, and then who knew what the ghosts would do? She couldn’t attack outright. Too many of them. She’d never get them all with the tiny hand blaster she kept on her person at all times. Even if she had something larger, she’d risk hitting Danny, and he sometimes had odd reactions to ectoplasmic discharge- some kind of allergy. Not to mention, the bigger guns were dangerous to humans in their own right, no matter that they tried to make their weapons nonlethal.

No good options.

What would the ghosts do when they saw her?

She backed away, keeping her footsteps light. She went to Jazz’s room.

“Jazz, sweetie?”

“Hm?” said Jazz, looking up from her desk.

“Go get your father. Tell him to come quietly. And bring the phasing net.”

“Um, okay? What’s going on?”

Just hurry,” said Maddie, “quietly.”

“Alright,” said Jazz, still dubious, but getting up nonetheless. “Is something wrong? Yes. Remember, quietly- No, leave your music on.”

“Okay,” said Jazz again.

Maddie heaved a sigh of relief as she saw Jazz make her way down the stairs.

Alright.

She had... something of a plan. Almost.

She wouldn’t let those filthy ghosts hurt her son.

Of all the ways to wake up, getting a net thrown on him was one of the worst. The blob ghosts were still on him, and, of course, their collective instinct was to phase away from the offending object, straight through his bed and floor, into the kitchen. They hit the table, still wrapped in the net.

The blobs keened, and Danny tensed, holding off his transformation as he heard feet on the staircase. Jack and Maddie soon arrived.

“Uh,” said Danny, squiggling so that he could wave at them through the net. “Hi?”

“You,” said Maddie, “you phased with the net.”

“Oops?”

#danny phantom #ask #answer #prompt #prompt fill

629 notes · View notes

smells-like-mettaton · 2 years

Note

Hmm... For the rarepair thing- I doubt you could find a way to get Toriel and Mettaton together!

this has been sitting in my asks for an infinite amount of time because i WANTED to prove i could do it. but i could not.

Can i offer you some Toriel / Mad Dummy instead? (it/its pronouns and no name for Maddy here. Takes place a week or so after monsters were sealed underground, before Toriel starts dating/marries Asgore. Will probably write more of this because i think they could be really funny as a couple who is so bad for each other)

XXX

THUD. THUD. THUD.

“Yeah, take some of this—and a little of that—!”

Crash BOOM thud THUNK.

Cautiously, Toriel crept towards the cacophony at the end of the tunnel. Her palms burned with fire magic, casting sharp flickers across the unforgiving stone.

She’d been on vigil near the Barrier all night. This was… the third night in a row? Fourth? It was difficult to measure with the thin rays of light that filtered through the Barrier. The only glimmer of reality that penetrated this prison.

Until tonight, possibly. But… why would a human try to break into the Underground?

“Huff, puff… You think you’re tough, don’t you? Well I’ll show you, stupid fake wall!”

CRASH BANG BOOM.

Toriel crept a little faster. Her fire wasn’t the only thing lighting the walls, now.

At the end of the tunnel, a white blob glowed, hurling itself against the barrier hard enough to set stalactites crashing from the ceiling to the floor. The shatters echoed, ringing in her ears.

“Oh. It’s only a ghost.” Toriel smiled in relief. No humans had come to finish them off tonight. Her people would live a little longer.

The ghost spun, an enraged expression on its face.

“Only. Only? ONLY??” It spun around her, suddenly pelting her with bullets. Thankfully, Toriel was used to sneak attacks. She blocked each with a swipe of her flame-filled paws. “I’m the strongest, sexiest murder blob in the world! Now sit back and watch me punch through this stupid wall!”

Toriel blinked at the outburst. She knew better than anyone how useless punching the Barrier would be—she’d attempted that tactic for a week straight before Gerson and Wingdings had convinced her to give up. Also, this ghost didn’t appear to have hands?

But ghosts currently held the highest percentage of monsters who had fallen down. Seeing one here, with enough energy to sneak past her and attack the Barrier, of all things…

“Alright.” Toriel stepped back, extinguishing her flames. The ghost was more than bright enough to keep the tunnel lit. “I am watching.”

“Heck yeah you are. Okay. Okay.” The ghost seemed to take a deep breath, despite that being unnecessary.

Then it screamed and shot a flurry of star-shaped bullets. The Barrier flickered brightly where each attack hit, but of course, it didn’t break. The human mage who had made their final demands had been merciful enough to explain the Barrier’s design.

No monster soul could pass through alone. Only a monster with a human’s soul could. And it would take the equivalent of seven human souls to destroy the abomination for good.

“That was just…” the ghost huffed, “that was just a warmup! But you got a taste of how cool my attack was, didn’t you? DIDN’T YOU?”

“Er, yes, it was very… ‘cool.’” Toriel forced a smile.

This ghost was strange, and a little off-putting. But it had passion, which was something her current guard was severely lacking.

“In fact,” Toriel said more firmly, “You were so cool, I would like to offer you a position in my Royal Guard.”

“Huh? Who are you, the queen?” The ghost laughed.

“Yes.” Unfortunately.

The ghost’s laugh cut off abruptly.

“Then you’re Toriel? Toriel Dreemurr?”

“Toriel Dreemurr,” she echoed with a sigh. “Daughter of Torwin and Maliel Dreemurr, heir to the throne, and all of the baggage that the last generation of Boss Monsters left behind.”

She wasn’t sure why she added that last part. Perhaps because this was the first time since losing the war that she had been treated like just another monster.

“Huh. That sucks. Anyway, thanks for thinking I’m awesome and sexy, but I’m not joining your little club.”

“What—you are calling the Royal Guard a little club?” She gaped. Morale may be low, but the Guard still employed the strongest monsters in the kingdom.

Well… the strongest monsters that had survived.

“Yeah? That’s what I said? If you’re mad about it, we could like, fight to the death, and then I could be the new Dreemurr—wait can ghosts even have last names we don’t even have first names—”

“No fights to the death,” Toriel said, exhaustion suddenly crashing down on her.

She wasn’t going to die. And she wouldn’t let any more of her subjects die, either. That was the entire point of taking this humiliating retreat into the earth.

“Awww, that’s lame.” The ghost sighed. “But you’re the Boss, I guess. I’ll trick you out of your name somehow. Eventually. Because I’m cooler and smarter than you.”

“Of course,” Toriel deadpanned. “Now, if you would be so kind as to vacate this area…”

“Heck no!! I’m not done fighting the Barrier!! I’m the strongest thing under this mountain that can turn invisible. I’m not going to lose to a stupid wall!!”

“Very well,” she relented, her head pounding. It wasn’t as if the ghost could truly hurt anything down here. She couldn’t cause any more rockslides than Toriel had last week, at any rate. “Wake me if any humans arrive.”

Perhaps the ghost wasn’t fit for the Guard. That wouldn’t stop Toriel from taking advantage of the unexpected guest. She doubted the ghost would mind being asked to make a little more noise.

“Pffft, no humans are gonna dare come CLOSE to me! Ha!” The ghost flung into the Barrier again. And again.

Toriel shook her head and walked back to her tent. Trusting sentry duty to another wasn’t like her. Particularly to a monster outside of her own inner circle.

But right now, she was too tired to care. She collapsed onto her futon and fell asleep.

#fic tag #tali writes #rarepair asks #im sorry mettaton is just too gay in my heart #i was gonna do it platonically and even then i was just struggling too hard but somehow i can do. toriel/maddy. so whatever #i have got to get my asks cleaned out eventually lol #toriel #mad dummy

23 notes · View notes