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your earbuds are haunted

@spooky-fm

She/her | old name @that-obnoxious-roommate | this is now a fandom blog | I have bitten the bullet and jumped headfirst into the writblr (more like lurkblr) life | buy me a coffee: https://ko-fi.com/block_ha
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Delivery Ghost Masterpost and Update Subscription

Since my tag list is becoming unmanageable, I'm going to use this post for notifications for my dp x dc Delivery Ghost story.

How this works: Hit the little bell icon to turn on the notifications from this post. Since the reblogs are restricted to only me, there will be no clutter of dozens of notifications about every reblog. Whenever there is a new chapter out, I will update this post and post a link to the new chapter.

Additionally, the fanfic is now on Ao3, so if that subscription system works better for you, that's a good place to keep up with the story.

Chapters 1-5 were posted on tumblr without proofreading. Check out ao3 for slightly cleaned-up versions. Chapters after that are identical on both platforms.

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cpericardium
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themainspoon

This was a whole thread, here are some of my favourites:

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bionicboxes

ARTIST CREDITS:

and adding my personal favorite (created by liminalnua)

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annacaffeina

Ok, to prove to my husband that this is more a European device than a U.S. device I am going to need more non-US people to reblog this.

Do not reblog for science. No science will be happening. Reblog to help me prove a point!

(If I am right I will show him this poll. If I am wrong he will never know this happened)

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systlin

I think that I should contact Christopher Tolkien's ghost and convince him to approve my vision, which is a Muppet Silmarillion.

Miss Piggy plays Luthien. Beren is played by the literal hottest human actor we can find. Kermit is Finwe.

The Swedish chef is just the Swedish chef, except he's in Angband doing his thing and no one is acknowledging it.

Manwe is Gonzo

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dclovesdanny

Dcxdp

Biofam 4/5

Maddie didn’t speak to her father, as did her sister. Unfortunately, that made it hard for them to contact their favorite uncle, but when they left at eighteen, they both agreed it was for the best. Even after they found out the old man was dead, they didn’t reach out, unsure of what they would say.

That was then.

Now, with shaking hands covered in ectoplasm,(god her baby was hurt, she had been hurting her baby, THOSE BASTARDS IN WHITE HURT HER BABIES) she dialed the number that she had never managed to forget.

“Hello, who is this and how did you get this number?” The British accent soothed a part of her she hadn’t noticed was tense.

“Uncle Alfred.” Maddie could barely choke out his name, hands still shaking. “I need help.”

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Honestly learning about food and culture keeps leading to a lot of interesting revelations like of COURSE Sokka won’t shut up about meat, as someone based on the Inuit people his diet would be 99% meat and his body would be a lot worse at getting proper nutrients from vegetables and grains and the like. Like it’s also the “haha sokka likes meat joke” but he and katara are likely not getting anywhere near as much nutrients from not meat meals, especially because when they do get meat, it’s a lot leaner then they would be used to. Katara is just likely better at bottling it up then Sokka. Sure, they would be used to eating some plants, like foraged berries, but their bodies are much more adapted to heavy fatty meat based diets.

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dcxdpdabbles

Hello 👋 if requests are open do you think we can get another of The Summoned Demon? I've never seen a take on Danny being misunderstood and speaking a different language after a summoning and I'm really excited to see where you wanna take this. If not don't worry about it I have a vivid imagination hahaha

Take care of yourself man, this is also your mandatory water and food break ❤️

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Danny runs for what feels like hours but is probably only a few minutes, attempting to find the exit of the caves. This would be easier if he could go ghost, but for some reason, his powers were disrupted when he tried to change into Phantom back in the cell.

He didn't know how, but the weird lights had messed with his core. It was almost like an invisible hook had attached itself to his navel. The thing yanked his power into the floor and walls, causing them to explode.

Thankfully, when the strange writing had vanished, a bit of his strength had returned, allowing him to tear through the stone bars. He couldn't go ghost, but at least some of his powers were accessible.

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nerdpoe

The government, in a show of goodwill, has offered a very extensive training grounds to the Justice League. Granted, the offer is to utilize them, not own them, but they are amazing.

A virtual reality so real, run by an AI that truly generated random conflicts, that it's absolutely perfect to train child heroes with no actual risk to them.

The world is always a bright, vibrant green, with floating purple doors.

The trainees are given specialized suits and weapons, so that they can fight back and feel the hits. They are loaded up into a "transportation unit", to give them the feeling that they're actually going to a location, not just waiting for the AI to boot up the VR room.

After that, they fight whatever the AI spits out.

If the fight is too much, all they have to do is turn off the suit, and the environment goes right through them instead of hurting them.

The weapons alter between "containment" and "destruction". Some of the "missions" given by the personnel in charge of the training room, the GIW, are for destruction of all foes. Other times it's for capture.

They fight strange beings with really odd quirks; a rock star, a giant metal man, an evil therapist, est.

However, when they get too close to capturing or destroying the target, there's a 60% chance that the "boss" appears.

The boss is a challenge, because the only thing trainees are allowed to do to him is capture, but he's insanely powerful.

An AI bogey called "Phantom".

Phantom has never, ever lost.

But some trainees are getting suspicious.

The ones that have been dead before, when they turn off their suits they can still get hurt.

What if this isn't VR?

Or; I was inspired by Enders Game. The GIW make their own portal, and start advertising it as a "training room" for heroes. The plan is to make the heroes decimate the Ghost Zone, but they didn't account for the adult heroes to take one look at it and think 'oh, that's perfect for my mentee' instead of use it themselves. As they're not their fully trained counterparts, this means that when Phantom enters the picture, instead of him getting beat by the professionals as the GIW intended, he dukes it out with kids his own portrayed age. Naturally, in his home environment, he wins. So the kid heroes, dealers choice, slowly come to the horrifying realization that they're being used as weapons to attack another dimension.
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Angst idea for billy batfam: for whatever reason billy is given a punishment from Bruce: no magic until told otherwise. No spells. No heroing. No magic

The problem is that Bruce doesn't understand magic and doesn't understand that billy isn't like zatanna or constantine, he can't just not do magic. 6 gods, the living Lightning and the magic of eternity all bottle up inside a malnourished little kid? It'll burn him alive

but... he's learned better than say no to a pissed off adult

The gods make the executive decision: billy can't stay here. Not anymore.

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Ooooh this is good. Thank you for the ask!

Oh, the “no heroing” punishment alone is bad. Because that infringes on his responsibilities within the Magic community. He has work to do damnit!

But no magic? That is basically a death sentence. No joke, asking someone who is so intrinsically tied to magic to NOT use it, is not going to end well.

And the worst thing is, Bruce thinks this is for the best. He still doesn’t get magic after so many years because he doesn’t want to. All magic brings is chaos and a headache. He toned his hate down for Billy, but it’s still there. He’s worried that magic will ruin his new son’s life, so he decides to separate them, like you would your kid from a toxic friend.

But it’s eating Billy up inside. Now, he has voices in his head yelling at him to use his powers. He has magic practically boiling within his very core, hitting along every inch of his inner muscles. He feels like he’s burning up. Like he’s eaten so much that he can’t eat anymore.

Still, he doesn’t say anything. He knows better. After so many foster and group homes that promise they’ll be better than the last, this one feels different somehow. He has hope. It’s not a lot, but it’s there. If he says or does anything to ruin that, it’ll only be his fault.

But his patrons think otherwise.

They acknowledge that these vigilantes have good intentions, for humans. But ultimately, Billy’s wellbeing matters the most. And if he continues to not use his magic, he won’t survive to the next year. It’s like asking him to not take medicine. To not sleep. To not eat or drink.

At some point, the Batman’s intentions don’t matter. Billy needs to go to the Rock immediately. Zeus apologizes profusely before piloting his body and teleporting all the way to the Subway to Eternity.

He can’t stay, they tell him. And, despite wanting a family more than anything, Billy knows they’re right.

*cue Captain Marvel avoiding being in a room alone with Batman and any of his batgirls or robins.*

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Prompt 237

“Wait, so, Captain Marvel is like, three?” 

Said hero pauses as he nearly passes by a cracked door, creeping slightly closer despite it being more than a little rude to eavesdrop. All of the gods were insistent, which he could say no to, but Billy was giving him the equivalent of puppy eyes, which they all knew he was weak to. 

He? They? Marvel was technically an amalgamation of the past champions, currently split between six beings, though nowhere near equally. Billy was and would be the chosen champion- pure of heart to be able to resist the Gods’ bullshit- but he had chosen a team himself, which honestly Marvel approved. 

“What the fuck do you mean by that, Hal?” 

He didn’t move from the corner, head tilting slightly at Green Lantern’s and Green Arrow’s words. Billy, not physically there, not really, wiggled down from his shoulder, passing through the wall like a ghost invisible to all but him. 

Well, him and the Gods, but Mercury’s words were muffled, nearly silenced by Solomon at the moment, so he was probably attempting to wax poetic about Flash again in a way that little ears shouldn’t hear. 

“I mean, Marvel mentioned he was created three years ago, right?” 

Ah. Marvel had meant that the newest Champion had been chosen, but well, he supposed that the team didn’t have all the information, as Solomon pointed out. And he was pretty sure that Billy was mostly in control at that point- it could get confusing with the hive-mind but not-hive-mind. It was hard to explain to those not apart of it. 

But they had to go now, Fawcett called, and it wasn’t like Billy could leave it for long. Chances were nothing would come from this anyway. 

Why does this feel like the intervention videos Billy showed them all

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Talon Dick, tiny Talon Tim, and an all too human Jaybird. Lost but together.

Grayson wished that he had remembered sooner.

It would saved them all pain if he had remembered sooner.

But he hadn’t. His memory of home had been one of the things that had been cut from him along with flesh and bone and soul. It made sense. If he had remembered home he would have fought endlessly to get back to it. Even without the memory, Grayson had known that there was a deep chasm in him where something had been.

He felt that chasm fill on a little as he looked up at the towering building.

Jason looked at it with a weary scowl. “Are we just standing out here or what?”

The fledging fussed in Grayson’s arms. He hushed the little one gently with a soft coo and pressed a kiss to the child’s forehead. Another whispered, missing memory.

“Gray, come on. This was a bad idea,” Jason said. He hooked his fingers around Grayson’s and gave a little tug. “We don’t belong somewhere like… like this. It’s not safe. We need to go before someone calls the cops on us.”

Grayson hushed Jason too and brushed his fingers over Jason’s own calloused ones, careful with his talons.

Jason’s frown just deepened. “Gray—”

Before Jason could protest again, Grayson reached out their classed hands and pressed the call button on the side of the large, wrought iron gate.

A moment later the speaker crackled to life. Grayson winced at the sound. Fledge started crying. Jason backed up a step.

“Wayne Manor. May I ask what is your business here?” The proper, rolling words were like a balm.

Another bit of the chasm filled.

“Ah… Alfred?” Grayson asked and looked towards the security camera. His hood fell back. Fledge cried. Jason gripped his hand tighter.

Grayson watched with golden eyes.

“Oh good heavens, my dear boy,” Alfred whispered.

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You are a villain famous for “killing” heroes. In reality, heroes come to you to fake their deaths.

Sometimes they try to pay you.

You are posted out by the Hollywood sign tonight, sitting under the frame where the W used to be. It got burnt to a crisp during last week’s big superhero fight. A hero died right where you’re sitting. The whole area’s been closed down until Hero Force can coordinate a recovery effort. Usually it’d be done by now but no one’s willing to touch it until the ash has been completely blown away.

It’s a rule that the world must stand still when a hero dies.

“How much?”

The voice comes from behind you. The lights that illuminate the Hollywood sign are down to hide as much of the scorch marks as possible. You wouldn’t be able to see anything even if you did turn around, so you don’t.

You put some chapstick on, the glide of the balm against your wind chapped lips grounding.

“I said,” the Hero says, voice tightening, “How. Much.”

There’s the sound of gravel crunching now. They’re wearing heavy boots and the scent of fresh blood grows stronger the closer they get. Their breathing is smooth and even which means it’s not their blood.

You put the cap back on your chapstick and tuck it into your leather jacket’s inner pocket. “I don’t take money.”

“Then what do you take?” The Hero rounds the Y and comes into your line of sight. The dark hides most of their features, but you can make out a glittering gold mask and the dull shine of drying blood on their chest plate. Their breathing may be even, but their stance isn’t. They sway in place, back and forth, back and forth. Their arms wrap around their stomach. “I’ve got land. A house. You can have it.”

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