#ghost transformation

[art-by-sorachi]

Rotom Constanze

Seems that while working with unusual motors in her gadgets, Constanze had gotten herself turned into a small Rotom by a magic mishap. Being a ghost of pure plasma's going to make building and repairing things a lot more difficult, but maybe she could possess one of her Stanbots...

[princess-josie-riki]

The full comic of the Ghost!Werner Werman TF Comic. Page 1 Page 2 Page 3 Page 4 Page 5 Cuphead (c) StudioMDHR The ghost concept of Werner Werman, idea and artwork (c) me

[princess-josie-riki]

Page 1 of the Ghost!Werner Werman TF Comic. In this page, Werner Werman is in the cemetery, alone and nervous. Unknown to him, a ghostly ball of light came into his body and he fell, kneeling on the floor. Cuphead (c) StudioMDHR The ghost concept of Werner Werman, idea and artwork (c) me

[princess-josie-riki]

Page 4 of the Ghost!Werner Werman TF Comic. In this page, Werner's eyes turned light blue and glowed when he opened them. Then, he got up and became confused when he turned into a ghost. Cuphead (c) StudioMDHR The ghost concept of Werner Werman, idea and artwork (c) me

[princess-josie-riki]

Page 3 of the Ghost!Werner Werman TF Comic. In this page, Werner's overalled pants turned into a long, white ghostly robe and then he was shocked and began to close his eyes. Cuphead (c) StudioMDHR The ghost concept of Werner Werman, idea and artwork (c) me

[idesofrevolution]

There’s nothing more amazing than having possessed a body. Being dead gets kinda fuckin’ awful, bruh. You’re floating around, looking at others live their lives, knowing you’d live it better... I mean, that’s Emilio! Look at him. He’s got so much potential, and he’d rather be taking fuckin’ filter selfies on Instagram for his 300 followers. If only he’d have hit the gym for a few years, joined the football team... Woulda been a whole different story. He wouldn’t have needed my help. But, I mean, I can’t complain. Profits flow upward, bruh. I’m in charge now, so I get the gold.

So first of all, that tackle was bullshit. We were winning, some fucker had to come knock the life outta me and shut down our sports program. I watched the school get less and less swole, less fit, and it killed me. I needed to do something. That’s where little Emilio came into play. 

He was a little prep. You know, that little shit who would walk around and talk shit about people he doesn’t even know. He walked around in his $250 pussy shoes, thinkin’ he was hot shit. This little fuck ruled the school now? Fuck no. I knew then and there, it was time for me to step in.

I hadn’t tried taking over anyone before. I mean, I watched Danny Phantom as a kid, so I knew ghosts could do shit like that, but I didn’t know how. I had to make a plan, so for a week or so I followed him around the school. Got to know his schedule. His stupid fuckin’ AP classes he jacked around in, bossing around the speech and debate nerds like he was a fuckin’ king. He took everything for granted. Eventually I found out when he was alone. Third period, second floor bathroom. He would jack off about twice a week. I guess even fucktards need a lil release. So, now it was just a matter of slippin’ in.

So it was that Friday, and he snuck into the second floor bathroom, locking the door like always. I knew that Mr. Puckey always destroyed that specific toilet in between third and fourth period, so I had to be quick. Emilio sat down on the toilet seat and unzipped his prissy, red skinny jeans. I was just chillin in the corner, waiting to make my move. He whipped out his lil’ cock and started browsing Pinterest for hot guys. Fuckin’ idiot: Tumblr is for porn, not Pinterest.

I floated over and looked, he was lookin’ up jock bros! That’s who he jacked off to? The deal was sealed, he was gonna get his comeuppance in his own fantasy. He started to stroke, having locked on to some typical white boy abs. The first thing I did was let out a bit of jockscent. You know, that manly, au naturale musk that you just can’t help but sniff up? I mean fuck, I soaked up my pitstank and ballsweat after every fuckin’ practice. No shame in it!

I guess he didn’t see it that way. He covered his nose, and started bitchin’ about B.O. I let out a little bit more, and he started sniffin’ more and more. He was pumpin’ a lil’ harder too. He started to like my stank. He closed his eyes, and kept pumpin’, and I realized it was now or never.

I tried a little test spot, and slipped my hand into his left arm. He jerked it away, shaking it off for a second. Didn’t take long for him to keep wankin’ to my smells. So I slipped it back in. This time, it stuck. I lifted up his hand and felt air for the first time in years. It’s the little things you remember I guess, and that was one of them. It was so fuckin’ addictive, you know, life. I had a taste, and I wanted more. This little cuck started freakin’ out, watching his hand move on it’s own. So I shoved my right hand into his, and kept pumpin’ his tiny lil’ cock. I cupped his left hand over his mouth so he’d quit yelpin’, and shoved my big ass feet into his. 

This was somethin’ I didn’t think about: I was so much bigger than him! So when my size 13 foot slipped into his size 8... Let’s see. You ever worn wet socks that are two sizes too small? Don’t ask why I have, but that’s what it’s like. I wriggled his toes. My thighs were like twice the size of his, and it felt like he was gonna fuckin’ tear in two. My ass phased into his, not without a little force. 

I mean, he was filled to the max, I had to really push to get all of me into him. He’s yelpin’ and cryin’ this entire time, losing control of himself, feeling like he’s an inflatin’ balloon... I’d feel sorry for him if he weren’t such a fuckin’ cuck to everyone. So, when I shoved my pecs into his, I was pretty much all in. I let his hand off his mouth just for a second. Only for him to get one little cry for help out. That’s when I slammed my head into his. Everything went dark. I saw his memories fly away, forcing them out... Forcing Emilio the pussy bully out. Within like, ten seconds, I opened my eyes and smiled.

That’s when I really took control. His body started pulsating, spasming. Under his skin you could see ripples of muscle starting to bulk and inflate. His body was starting to make room for me! I mean, I was growing so fast, it looked like a fuckin’ balloon being inflated. And it felt good. It was like every muscle in my body was being worked out at once, like the best, most satisfying workout I’ve ever had. I noticed that room full of jockscent (trademark) started pouring into my now hairy pits, huge uncut cock, and strong, gigantic feet. I smelled like I used to. I felt like I used to. I mean, I was back. I looked down at where Emilio’s hipster threads used to be- they were laying in shreds on the floor. I tore his black tee shirt to fit my fuckin’ sexy ass arms and chest. I looked in the mirror. Damn, I looked good. I flexed my new muscles, knowing I’d be putting them to good use.

Mr. Puckey began to pound on the door. I guess it was passing time, and he needed to take his daily titanic shit. I whipped open the door, the smell pouring out of the bathroom, the fatass math teach looked at me like I was a fuckin’ alien. 

“Excuse me, mister! What are you doing! Put some clothes on!” Fuck, I didn’t miss that voice. But, I did need a new coach. I was gonna bring back football. I was gonna be that slick, sexy, cool bro that the school worships. I was back on the throne, bruh. And Puckey was gonna be in for a quick perspective change real soon. Until then, I strode away, girls gigglin’ and guys noddin’. Yeah, the king is back, baby.

[idesofrevolution]

ANIMATION MONTH #1

“Going Ghost!” Danny shouted as he ran toward the Box Ghost, jumping straight into his transformation. The Box Ghost laughed as he flew around the lab, taunting Danny with the Fenton Thermos. Inside, Skulker bided his time, awaiting his release. It had taken Danny about twelve weeks to catch Skulker, and he wasn’t going to so easily be taken away from him! 

“I am the Box Ghost! Master of all things cubical and all storage wares. Now tupperware inclusive! And I have discovered a new world to hide from the Ghost Boy, that he knows not about!” Danny rolled his eyes, irritated by the typical rantings of the Box Ghost.

“Alright, come on. I know you’re going to the Ghost Zone. You think I haven’t been there? Now, just give me the thermos, and we’ll forget the whole thing.” The Box Ghost laughed at Danny’s cockiness.

“You know not of the outlandish world I speak of! A world of many boxes: all three dimensional! You will never find me there!” Danny’s eyebrow raises, clearly interested in the strange ploy. “And now, Ghost Boy, it is time for me to disappear into the void of dimension... Of three dimension... Of... Oh whatever.” The box ghost flew forward. Further... Further...

You watch confusedly as the box ghost’s face fills your screen more and more! What is this? You thought it was a new episode! The closer he gets, his laughs get louder, echoing in the room around you. Finally, to your shock and surprise, out bursts the Box Ghost from your screen into your world. He laughs and flies through the wall with the Fenton Thermos. You rush back to the screen just in time to see Danny flying toward the screen full speed. Tripping over random pieces of furniture, you land on the floor as Danny breaks through the screen, shattering it. 

His two dimensional figure shocks you as it floats above the room. It’s unlike anything you’ve ever seen! 

“Hey, have you seen a big blue ghost shouting about boxes around here?” Speechless, you nod your head in affirmation. “Ah. Good. Do you know where he went?” His face, normally full of confidence, melts at your shaking head. “Crap. I guess I have to set a trap. You mind helping me out?” Still shell shocked by your favourite cartoon character’s presence in your home, you eagerly nod. “Awesome! I’ll just be a minute.”

Danny rubs his gloved hands together before full speed flying toward you. Realizing exactly what he’s planning, you excitedly watch as he turns transparent. You feel a rush of cold as he phases into your chest, disappearing into your body. Immediately, you begin to shake and convulse: arms flailing in every which direction. The chilly sensation gathers in your stomach before rapidly spreading out all throughout your body. Your hands suddenly clutch into a mighty fist, while you stand proudly. Opening your eyes, they now glow an eerie neon green. 

“Alright! This is so cool!” Danny’s voice bellows out of your surrendered mouth. He carefully examines every inch of your body. “Wow! I’m three dimensional!” Immediately, the box ghost flies through your wall, into the room.

“Beware, puny human! I am the Box Ghost! Master of all things container-based!” Danny crosses your arms and smirks at the ghost, as he continues his diatribe. “I have passed into your world to bring about compartmentalized doom! Tremble in fear of my storage might!” 

In a quick jump, you’re airbound, effortlessly floating at eye level with the blue baffoon. As he slowly comes to realize his situation, you feel Danny’s hand fling yours forward to grasp the cold metal of the Fenton Thermos.

“Yeah yeah yeah, I hope you like this container, bozo.” You open the thermos, pointing it toward the Box Ghost, as he is dramatically sucked into the ironic storage container. Danny brings you downward, your toes finding refuge on the familiar floor. “Phew! And I thought it was fun back home! This place is great!” He stares at your hands, and you feel your face frown. “Well, I might stay a little while. Even ghosts need vacations now and then! But I’ll need to make some adjustments.” 

Danny uses your left hand to grab your right wrist. He pulls, as it stretches and thins out; almost like rubber, before watching it snap back, now leaner and smoother than before. Pulling on your left wrist yields the same results, as he morphs your body into something much more comfortable for the ghost boy. Your legs stretch out cartoonishly, while your abdomen follows suit. You hear the elastic sound of your skin stretching before a loud snap. You look down at your now perfectly tapered torso, powerful legs, and long feet. 

“I’m sure you don’t mind, right?” Danny asks before he begins to pull, poke and prod your face into a perfect 3-D replica of his former self. A quick glance in the mirror, and he smiles proudly at his new home away from home. “Somethings missing...” He snaps your fingers before your hair turns a beautiful silver. “Much better.”

He twists and turns, admiring his work. “I look good! Even for me! Alright. Let’s go ghost, dude!” 

[idesofrevolution]

Kade was a little terror for his Tottenham neighborhood. Vandalism, intimidation, theft... he was a bad seed. What’s worse, is his daddy’s vast wealth after he and his mother split. This kid would get away with everything. So as he sat on the railing near the train station, plotting what he’d do next, an unforeseen force had other plans.

A loud gust of wind knocked Kade off the railing, landing on his back. After a moment of attempting to see straight, he noticed the sickest vintage bike he’d ever seen. Jet black, all the chrome in perfect condition, and the leather completely intact. He rose and immediately began to walk toward it. He ran his hands over the sleek black leather, and quickly noticed that the key was still in the ignition. He looked around for the owner, and after seeing no one, hopped on the bike and turned the ignition. The bike roared to life, the yellow light beckoning from the headlight illuminated the parking lot.

Revving the engine, a quiet, yet poignant voice echoed in his ears, encouraging him to take it for a spin. Snapping the kickstand back, he took off into the night, driving straight down Tottenham High Road. Zipping past honking cars and irritated pedestrians, Kade felt the rush and exhilaration of speed. However, a slow creeping sense of weight surrounded him. Almost as if someone was holding onto him.

He looked down to see two iridescent arms grasping him around his waist. Pulling into an alleyway, he was able to see who the arms were attached to, though he immediately regretted such a decision. A ghost with big meaty pecs and greasy, stringy hair grasped tightly around his waist. A low melodic voice began to whisper in his ear.

“C’mon kid. You know you like it. You like the way it feels, don’t chya? Lemme in. The fun doesn’t have to end.” Trying his damndest to speed down the alley, the bike seemed to stutter and lurch, stuck where it was. He felt the grasp of the ghost get tighter and tighter. “I’ve seen you fuckin’ around this neighborhood. I don’t like little jackasses who go cryin’ to their daddies.” The ghost’s thick New York accent got harsher as he spoke. “So, here’s what I’m gonna do: I’m gonna remove the problem, and make sure it doesn’t happen again, alright?” The ghost spun around Kade, staring him in the face, and before he could even react, the ghost had plunged itself into his agape mouth.

Kade struggled against the rubbery confinements, but to no avail. The ghost was quick and within seconds, his slippery tail had already found it’s way into Kade’s mouth. Spasming on the bike, his hands accidentally gripped the acceleration, projecting him forward, back into the streets. Kade wriggled and shook as the ghost inflated outward into his smaller limbs and joints. A thick ball of ectoplasmic goo began to rise up his throat, and into his mouth. Tasting of pure rubber and acidity, Kade gave in and swallowed the mass, landing in his stomach with a loud “boom.” 

Kade looked down, nonresponsive, bulleting down High Road with seemingly no consciousness. That’s when his prized white Reebok high tops began to turn grey, then charcoal, then a deep midnight black. They morphed and contorted until they found their form in a pair of thick, big combat boots. Travelling up his leg, his silky white track pants narrowed and tightened into tight leather pants. His white tee shirt from Selfridge’s had all but disappeared into a well worn old motorcycle jacket, over a tattered black tee. 

His body lurched and groaned, as it grew twice it’s former size, filling out in muscle and girth, until Kade was no longer recognizable. His signature scowl and dower expression was replaced by a mysterious low brow, and stoic stare. His hair darkened and slicked itself into a messy mop, perfect for midnight drives. Tommy revved his engine, his gloved hands squeaking as they stretched. Zooming past dark alleyways and trap houses, he intended on keeping his promise. No more irritating Kade, and ensuring that no one takes his place. Tommy kept his neighborhood safe, and the residents soon began to take notice to this mysterious man on a motorcycle, their personal sentry.