surprise! I'm alive :D
Chucking out one of my prompts anyone can take this.
Prompt starts with the whole idea that everyone believes that ghost are malevolent, non sentient beings that aren't capable of feeling pain. Amity parkers believe that, the Fenton's and the GIW "proved" that and the ghosts that escape the portal have caused so much mindless damage that it just further cements the idea that ghosts aren't sentient.
But during one of Phantom's ghost fights The Fenton parents realize Phantom is a bit different than the ghosts he fights. They finally decide to observe Phantom more carefully after this (they're still shooting at him just watching him a bit first)
During this observation period they notice it's not just phantom's rapid power growth that's different about him. It's everything he does! He's proven to be more intelligent than the other ghosts, having managed to steal and operate Fenton tech despite the fact he doesn't appear to have powers like technus.
He has body language?! Subtle body language that isn't destructive or angry! He fidgets when he's nervous, smiles and is more talkative and expressive when he's excited or happy. He shows emotion more humanly than any of the other ghosts showing emotion that wouldn't benefit him in the moment. Now the Fenton's wanted to brush this off as clear ghost manipulation at it's finest but in the most recent ghost attack gave a preposterous theory a leg to stand on.
They had been shouting their usual threat's of tearing the ecto scum apart molocule by molecule. Most of the ghost ignored them, fixated on the destruction they were causing but Phantom hesitated, the GAV cameras catching a look on Phantom's face that would be game changing.
Fear.
Genuine fear. It was not the robotic mimicry of human emotion they were used to. The emotion they got was that of a being that fully understood what was going to happen to it and had the capability to be afraid.
They compile all the footage of past ghost fights and ghost sightings and come to the horrifying conclusion that phantom is a sentient ghost who could feel pain.
They're horrified that they've been hurting this little boy (because that's what phantom is) who's just trying to help and didn't understand why the other ghosts lacked the empathy he had. As for Phantom's crimes they finally had a reason for them. He's a scared child , loney and confused with everyone around him trying to hurt him even though he was trying to protect people; of course he would act out!
The Fenton's show their undeniable proof to the GIW and within a week a law is passed stating that phantom is the only sentient ghost and it's illegal to harm him.
Danny is very confused to say the least, especially when everyone starts treating him like a little kid (Danny either looks young for his age or the accident happened earlier whatever causes more angst) The worst part is they don't believe him when he tells them some other ghosts are sentient no matter what he says! They just give him this sad look and nod or try to comfort him by telling him he wasn't evil like the other ghosts. The other ghosts like the thought of being able to get away with crimes without being charged so they don't even try to prove their sentience if anything they try to disprove theirs and prove Danny's.
Bonus Dp x Dc crossover:
The justice league is called about Phantom's situation Amity Parker's demanding that phantom be taken somewhere safe where he can be a regular (but spooky) child. Double points if the heroes don't believe any ghost but Phantom are sentient.
Tldr
Regular ghosts are too spooky for humans to believe they're sentient but Danny's halfa status makes him look more human and genuine (Vlad is not a true halfa you can fight me on that >:c) the other ghosts ramp up their acting skills so they can crime without consequence as "non sentient beings"
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jake sully + sex pollen hcs~ ⋆。゚✧。⋆
been a long time coming this one. ur welcome 🫠
• jake becomes not unlike a wild animal. the only real difference for him, is that unlike a more dominant or greedy lover such as quaritch or ronal, he becomes desperate
• it starts with hot flashes, then the swift lust-tinted gaze that overtakes his field of vision. his tail begins to swish and flick side to side, the little tufts of hair at the tip form a sharp point, alongside his ears; now perked up and swivelling every few moments for any specific noises
• jake's pupils dilate, his mouth falling open, and his chest taking deep, heavy breaths in hopes of slowing his racing heart. but to no avail, as the blood rushing to his engorged veined blue length can't be ceased
• he'll then be onto you. although if, such as this case, the pollen hit during a hunt or while he was out on a patrol, he'd be unable to do more than stay right where he was hit by the soft, flowery pollen
• after the initial widening of his bright green eyes, jake would buckle under this new-found sense of need, hitting the soft grassy ground beneath him almost instantly; his throat almost gasping for breath as his hands roughly palm the green blades, digging fervently into the blueish soil beneath it
• the lusty groans would start, and his hips would begin eagerly humping the lush earth underneath him; his hips gyrating hard and desperate into the ground, forming a new groove within the dirt from where his hardened cock rutted up against it
• unlike the common assumption, when male na'vi become affected by pollen, they become so physically crippled by the swift biological changes that there's no time to go into 'heat' per-se; they don't become aggressive or dominant, but physically desperate and unable to form even a single coherent thought.
• his desire during heat would be to fuck, and best of all fuck you, but being hit by a puff of this rich, almost waxy pollen would create the most enticing mix of shame, disgust and confusion paired with a biological, almost chemical need to breed something
• suddenly anything is enough; the sheer pressure of arousal bulging against his loincloth, erecting his nipples, making his short gasps of hot, thick air turn into pants of erotic desperation only spurring him on in finding that sweet release
• there's no time for jake to mount his ikran, or get up and find his way back home by foot or flight; he needs something, and he needs it now. so here he is, hunched over, grinding and shamelessly thrusting his now fully-uncovered cock into the warm, damp soil
• his face upwards turned, eyebrows scrunched up, fangs bared and tongue darting out, eyes blown wide in both shock and need, his ears arched back in focus; jake's features contorting in a mix of revulsion and pleasure, as he hadn't even chosen this, yet with every fibre of his physical being he had to chase this urge
• thick strings of precum oozed out of his throbbing tip, the bulbous head now easily sliding in and out of the smooth soil beneath the grass; jake's once hitched groans had since become wanton moans and whines, small droplets of sweat dripping from his forehead onto his hands in sheer exertion, as his tail wildly swished from side to side, slapping the ground behind him in uncontrollable sexual excitement
• his eyes had since scrunched up, going glossy from unshed tears of arousal and heat; the pollen had only been a new growth, not even mature in it's size or capacity, yet a single inhale had turned jake's once calm mind into a chaotic mess of the need to sex something
• his hips only bucked harder into the earth, braids and stray hairs cascading around his sensitive ears and broad blue shoulders; the usual slight glow of white dotting along his skin had become a bright fluorescent, illuminating his rough, quick movements in the dusk-lit undergrowth in which he chased his orgasm
• jake's tongue was now fully on display, his ability to control his body lessening as the time passed. snarling as his eyes took in the now mushy, almost gooey blueish earth underneath his cock; his sticky precum almost drowning the surrounding soil; his sounds turning into unintelligible animal chatter, "...unhg...hnhgh... uhhnhgm..g-god, ffuck... mhnhgh..", "...fffu-f-hnuhgh..a-ah, uhhnngh...hungggh...sh-shit..unghhm.."
• his movements sped up, his back curving downwards to better plunge his pulsating length under the damp soil; sheathing his dick inside the almost muddy undergrowth, only to drag it back out, letting long whines and hisses escape his lips at the oversensitivity
• jake's fingernails began to dig into the dirt, legs rhythmically humping the surface as his toned stomach and biceps flexed in equal parts forced effort and erotic anticipation; his knees likely covered in nicks and hands in bruises from the merciless onslaught of heat, compelling his body to seek out his release
• after mere minutes of desperate gyrating and filling the open air with his unabashedly erotic noises, his once little leaks of clear essence had now become long globs and strings of sticky white cum, spurting ream after ream from his red, desperate cockhead
• the damp earth had begun to almost suck him back in, his tip, shaft and swollen, tender balls being caressed and squeezed by the almost sentient soil; coaxing all the hot, thick seed from his throbbing cock into the moist, fertile ground
• after some final gruff and agonising pumps, jake spilled every drop of his sweet, warm semen into the almost burrow-like opening he'd created in the earth; his head bowing down, satiated after the seemingly never-ending heat had finally washed over him
• heaving a sigh, jake rolled over to rest on his back, lying fully spread out, exhausted from the intensity of the hard fuck he'd endured. his now softening cock rested against his thigh, his heartbeat slowing to a steady pulse, eyes slowly growing ever-heavier as he drifted into a deep, restful sleep
+like usual, lmk your thoughts! ;)
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cw: Bakugou dies but comes back to life, “comes back wrong” trope, implied fighting, angst
When Bakugou died, you’re not sure how you went on living. Grief had taken over your life, sat you in the passenger side while it cruised off the highway into icy waters. And even then, you couldn’t find the energy to drown.
It’s why there’s a sudden uptick of energy when you’re promised to have him back. Some top scientists contact you months after his death, tell you to hurry down to the headquarters labs, come and rejoice for what you’re about to witness. And you’re horrified, to say the least.
“This isn’t my husband.” Are your first words when you walk in, watch the figure on the other side of the glass examine its own hands. It looks like your husband but—but his hair isn’t the right shade of blond all over. His nose bridge had a slight bump after a scuffle with a villain. He had a scar on his hand but—but it never looked like it was to sew a pinky beside the other fingers.
“Is that really my husband?” You ask next in disbelief, slowly entering the room. Bakugou’s head snaps up, his eyes a little brighter than you remember but—they hold so much emotion. So much memory, so much panic, so much guilt.
“I left you.” He mutters, his voice raspy and ragged, and you wonder if it’ll always be like this now. It makes you cry a little harder than it should, but you only embrace each other. He’s cold and his shoulders don’t hold the same mass and his back doesn’t carry the same scars. There’s one, jagged and rough, running down his back, and you think, you think that’s where they slipped a new spine in.
“Welcome back home.” You tell him, weeks after meeting him again, new and not totally—Katsuki. He’s stiff and he doesn’t immediately take off his boots when he enters, and it worries you. Makes you think if you’ve just let a stranger into your home, one that has stolen your dead husbands face. Makes you wonder if he’ll be as loving as Katsuki once was, or if he’ll become your monster looming over you with the guilt of not being able to rest anymore.
“I’ve missed you so much.” You whisper against his mouth one night, a little while after he’s moved back. You don’t know why you lay under him, why you let him nestle himself inside of you, why you let him hold you against his chest. Katsuki always ran his hands over your cheeks and neck whenever he held you like this, but this…man, only holds himself up with his hands resting beside your head. It’s alien, how he looks at you, how his hips are methodically measured with every thrust, how he kisses you every 8 seconds. You wonder if he’s more robot than Frankenstein monster.
“Why did you come back to me like this?” You ask him one night, barricaded in the bathroom away from him. You can hear his sobs on the other side, his pleading to be let in. He tells you he never wanted to come back if he had to be like this, that he’s sorry, please let him in, he misses the warmth of your skin, he’s never been so cold before, he’s never liked the cold.
“Is this considered cheating?” You ask yourself aloud one night, when Bakugou is forced back to the lab when he becomes too…un-Bakugou. To sleep with a man that is your husband in every way but? Your husband has been dead for a year now, and yet you stroke the chin of the man that tries so hard to be him everyday, but fails so miserably at it every time.
“I’ll come back to you right this time.” Bakugou promises to you when he’s strapped down to leave for the lab and before he’s sedated. But you don’t believe him—you never did. Your husband is dead, and this animated corpse has been nothing but a cheap mockery of everything you’ve lost and something you will never truly get back.
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