Wally, tied down to a stone table and about to be sacrificed, feels more than offended.
This particular cult is trying to gift him to some minor god of protection or something, he wasn't particularly paying attention to the specifics, saying that the god needs a new member of his harem.
"But we chose this one because of his qualifications!"
"Indeed, we sense the eldritch within him!"
The god or whatever raises one white eyebrow.
"Re. Jec. Ted. Rejected. That? That whole thing?" The being asks, waving a hand generally at Wally's everything. "That is not going anywhere near my Fraid or my Haunt."
"Hey!" Wally says incredulously, "The hell did I do to you, man?"
"No no, that's the beauty of it!" A cultist interrupts him, also motioning at Wally's everything. "As a member of your harem and also one already tainted by the unknowable, he can stay out of your personal lair and stay in the Eternal Void, and you can just make sure he pleases you in wherever way you desi-"
"That thing is also not getting anywhere near my dick. In fact? This? This is done. I am done."
The being snaps his fingers into fingerguns, points at the shackles on Wally, and breaks them with green beams of light.
"Run free and far away frommmmmmmholy fuck get away from me!"
"So what, am I not good enough for you?" Wally asks, now in the beings face and ignoring the cultists.
Fuck those guys, but this just got personal.
~~~~~~
Danny is being hounded by one of Clockwork's worst nightmares, thanks to a stupid cult that thinks he's A, a god, and B, has a harem.
Great.
He's supposed to be at his 21st birthday party, getting legally wasted, and now he's getting hit on the man responsible for a not one, not two, but three week adventure through the time stream he just got back from.
This man and his ilk are responsible for nearly all of Danny's Clockwork Assignments, specifically to fix the timestream and reality, and he has the balls to ask why Danny doesn't like him?!
I don't even know exactly how long this takes, but I'm actually pretty proud of the painting
The Anti-Ecto Acts applied only to North America.
The USA and Canada both permitted the capture, experimentation, and termination of ecto entities.
One night, after weeks of being constantly hunted down, Danny decided it was time to leave the continent.
At first, he was terrified.
He didn’t even need false documentation, since the GIW wasn’t looking for his human identity, and Jazz helped him get everything he needed.
He… didn’t even have to buy a flight or something, since his speed could get him anywhere.
So, a bit anxiously, he traveled down to South America.
He had a pretty good time!
People were friendly and welcoming, excited to share the beauty they had with them and Danny found himself so much more interested in other cultures.
Being surrounded by languages, Spanish, Portuguese, and even some Indigenous ones became much easier to learn.
Traveling around wasn’t a problem, he often found people happy to take him in for a shower and a meal.
It wasn’t safe all the time, but it wasn’t because he was a ghost, which was somehow nicer.
With much less anxiety, he started to travel even more.
Africa was the obvious choice since it was the closest continent.
The main cities were rich with people and modern buildings, making him feel a bit out of place like he was in a cleaner version of Hollywood.
Going away from touristy sites, everything started to become more bare, the people still welcoming, but weary of noisy strangers. Wich was understandable, so next came Asia, then Europe, Australia, and Antarctica.
By the time Danny was in his twenties, he had pretty much visited almost every country on Earth.
He was having fun, he really was, but in every new country he visited, he was reminded how much he wished he was waking up in his bed, spending the days with his family and friends.
Once, he met a guy in London, whose soul looked like Swiss cheese, that he helped with some ghost stuff. He was recognized as from America, so he explained what he was doing all the way in England. Apparently, the guy had connections with the Justice League and promised to help.
At several spots, he even met with Dani. Every time they saw each other, they remembered that, even if it was so diverse, the World was still very small.
He was in South Italy when his phone rang.
It wasn’t hard to keep in touch with his friends and family, sending them photos or even packages of stuff he found traveling.
He answered Jazz, as she started to cry happily about the Anti-Ecto Acts being revoked.
He… hadn’t actually believed Jonh.
His mind was blank, with her sister excitedly talking over the phone.
After five years.
He could go back home.
AKA "Danny is the ghost-equivalent of a foster parent for de-aged Dani and Dan. Jason's just wondering who the hell these two feral meta children are." prompt idea!
Danny thinks he's doing an okay job at being a single dad of two. They're living in a quaint two bedroom apartment in Park Row, he's managing his Ghost King money well, and the kids haven't died (again). (He's definitely not getting a "World's Greatest Dad" mug anytime soon, but, hey, at least the house hasn't burned down yet!)
...Until he wakes up from his nap to an eerily silent apartment.
If there's one thing he's learned over the last few months, it's that silence is not good. He's scrambling off the couch fast enough to give himself a headache, practically flying down the hallway so he can get to the kids' room. Ellie is wedged halfway under her bunk bed. Dan's also squished under the bed but quickly squirms out when he realizes Danny's standing in the door way. He's holding... a socket wrench??
"...do I want to know what you two are doing?" Danny deadpans.
Ellie scrambles out as well, smears of something oily on her cheek. For a seven and eight year old, they have surprisingly convincing I'm innocent! expressions.
"I dunno," Ellie singsongs while Dan simultaneously barks, "Nothing!"
Danny squints. The kids squint back. Yeah, there's definitely something under the bed that's not supposed to be there. Since Dan's holding a wrench (and where the hell did he get that?? Danny doesn't even own any tools aside from maybe a little rubber mallet he found in the hallway closet), Danny hopes thinks it's not an animal.
It takes a minute of arguing in which Danny promises not to be mad, let them eat ice cream, and let them stay up an hour later than curfew for the kids to even let him near the bed without biting him. (Jokes on them, the ice cream is sugar free and Danny's going to reset the clocks to an hour before. Check and mate, bitch! Parenting is so easy.)
And then Danny pulls out... a tire. No, a rim. Two tire rims. Oh, Ancients. Engraved on the tire rim is a red Bat symbol. His stomach nearly drops to the floor; everybody in Crime Alley knows what the Red Hood's symbol looks like. "Eight Heads in a Duffle Bag," Crime Prince of Gotham with a gang big enough to take over all of Park Row. And yeah, Danny could easily beat the guy, but that doesn't mean he wants to. He doesn't want to uproot Dan and Ellie from their schools, move cities, run from yet another organization that wants them dead.
"How did you get this?" Danny asks, utterly dumbfounded.
"I dunno," Ellie says, just as Dan's saying, "Nowhere."
(Danny takes it back. Parenting is definitely not easy.)
"Danielle. Daniel. Where did you get these tire rims?" Danny asks again, more stern this time, to which he only gets shrugs. And that's when he notices the window is open and the screen his missing. "You're kidding me. Did you climb out the window? We're on the third floor!"
"We flew, duh." Ellie rolls her eyes, only shooting a wide-eyed, guilty look to Dan when he elbows her with a vicious shuddup!
"I-okay. Here's what we're going to do. We'll... just return the rims. It's not like the Red Hood saw you two steal them-," Danny stops when Ellie and Dan give each other a side-eye. He knows that look. It's the same look he and Jazz used to give each other when they had a silent agreement about something. Oh, no. No, no, no.
"...he didn't see you, did he?"
Another side-eye look. Oh, Ancients. At least there's no way the Red Hood knows where they are, right?
(Jason stares at the kids playing with his bike. He's not stupid enough to think they couldn't have been paid to sabotage it, but the way the little girl hikes herself up onto the seat and pretends to rev the engine makes him think otherwise. It's cute. The boy mostly seems interested in the engraved bat symbol on his tire rims, scraping at it like it's a 3D decal.
"I wanna be a bicycle-rider when I get bigger. I'll wear the jacket and everything!" The little girl laughs, deepening her voice before saying, "I'm a bicycle-rider! I'll beat you up!"
Jason snorts. He's leaning against the fire escape balcony overhead and it's dark enough for them not to see him, but they both freeze at the soft sound. When nothing happens, the kids relax again.
"It's a motorist, stupid. C'mon, help me take this off and I'll build you one."
"You wanna take the tire? Why?"
"'Cus of the symbol! It's the Batman symbol, do you know how scared people are of 'em? Show 'em this and nobody'll mess with us."
The kid's got a point. Crime Alley knows Red Hood's symbol like the back of their hand, but somehow Jason doesn't think rolling around a tire rim is going to have the same effect. Jason's about to step in when the kid bends the fucking metal with his bare hand. His fucking bike. It looks like the kid barely broke a sweat, too; just wiped his hands on his jeans and started prying apart front of his motorcycle.
Jason's voice is more biting than he means for it to when he shouts, "Hey!" He swings over the fire escape, landing with a heavy thud, before hauling ass towards the kids. Almost immediately the boy yanks the girl behind him and snarls... and his eyes go Lazarus-green. Jason stops abruptly. His voice is softer, gentler, when he tries again.
"Hey, kid. Don't you know not to go tearing apart people's bikes? C'mon, at least do it the right way."
That makes the boy pause, looking momentarily baffled and the green turning into bright blue. Jason takes that as an in and says, "Y'know, it's a lot faster when you use tools. I've got a wrench in my bag. If you use it like this..."
Jason spends the next thirty-five minutes helping the kids steal his own damn rims. He shouldn't. But he's curious about who these meta kids are and they're almost painfully easy to talk with, they just blabber like they've never heard of keeping a secret before in their lives. They talk about their dad, school, their favorite tv show. And then they talk about "the bad men" and Jason's stomach drops. "The bad men" who drive white vans, capture people, and experiment on them. And that sounds an awful lot like a meta-trafficking ring in his city, dead set on coming after the kids and their dad.
Then he's very, very grateful he's letting the kids take his rims home. After all, what Bat doesn't put GPS trackers in their symbols?)
i feel like nobody has NOTPs anymore. like if you hate a ship now it has to be for some deep moral reason and you have to justify it to everyone what happened to just not liking stuff that isnt inherently bad but just because you personally think it sucks
Danny moved to Gotham after high school. Went to college. Got a degree. Found out the thing he got a degree for wasn’t able to hire him because his vitals looked half dead and he couldn’t just tell them he was in-fact half dead. Danny was never going to be an astronaut. Not only that, he had massive college debt. Well fuck.
So Danny started doing odd jobs until he found a more stable income at a psychic reading service of all places. Obviously Danny couldn’t see the future. So he only took clients that wanted to talk to dead people. Which was something he could do, given he had an object that might have had some ectoplasm on it or one of the ghosts that typically hung out in the shop knew where to find the person the client was looking for. Being that this is Gotham, not many people that die here actually cross over into the Ghost Zone. Danny was going to have to look into that at some point. But for now, it meant he had only ever once had to tell a client he couldn’t help.
Now Danny before coming to Gotham, hated psychics on principle. Most were lying and telling their clients utter bullshit. But his current boss seemed to be different. Her name was Lilith and she was very much legit when it came to precognition. She often would tell him ahead of time if a client was going to be difficult and who to watch out for on certain days. On more than one occasion, one of her warnings saved him from a mugging or kidnapping.
So, Danny learned to like his life as a medium and used the money from his job to pay his rent and pay off his college debt. Lilith paid him well and the shop had enough customers to back it up. His hours were based on appointment most of the time so he had more free time to do other things if he didn’t have many appointments for the day.
The only time that the hours went to an 8 hour shift were when one of them left to go on vacation or visit family. Thats where Lilith was this week. Out of town visiting family. Because of this, the shop’s services were limited to Danny’s medium appointments. The shop almost never had walk ins since it was so busy. The only time it ever really happened was when Lilith was gone. And most of the time it was someone wanting to buy a crystal from the window display. Nothing Danny couldn’t handle.
Except that was until Red Hood walked in, oozing with toxic ecto and a shattered mess of a core, tossed a set of pearls at him and told him to get reading.
Danny tried to help, he did. The pearls were covered in ecto and seemed to be from a tragic event but there was no ghost attached to them. Whoever they belonged to had passed on to the Ghost Zone or wasn’t dead. Danny said as much and asked Red Hood if he knew his core shattered. Danny then offered to help repair it. Red Hood did not like that. Danny got punched in the face. And he did not get paid.
*that night on call with Sam and Tucker*
Danny: And then he punched me in the face! Can you believe that?!
Sam: Given that he is a crime lord? Yeah I can.
Tucker: ….
Danny: Tucker I don’t like your suspicious silence.
Tucker: *starts giggling mischievously*
Sam: Tucker what are you doing?
Danny: Tuck-
Tucker: So what you’re saying is that- you’ve been hit by, you’ve been STRUCK by- a smooth criminal. *starts playing Smooth Criminal by Micheal Jackson except the name Annie has been edited to the name Danny*
Danny: I hate you so much
Sam: *laughing hysterically*
Tucker: *singing* Danny are you okay? Are you okay Danny?
Danny: *looks into the metaphorical camera like Jim from the office*
…
Red Hood: *nearly falls off the fire escape he was using to spy when the guy from the psychic shop looks right at him*
dont worry, he specializes in stem (shenanigans, tomfoolery, escapades, and mischief)
I will read the same trope 20x and more again and again and again, bc I like the trope. I don’t care if it’s been done a 100 times before, it’s still fun to read.
ok, because i just saw a terrible take, i feel compelled to say that there is no "fic market" to "oversaturate" in fandom. good gravy.
fanfic writers are so fucking awesome man. they write novel length fics that are sometimes even better than some published bestselling books written by professional writers. like fanfic writers are professional writers to me and they gift us their masterpieces for free. they give us something we can look forward to after a long day. something from which we can seek comfort when life is hard. something that can be our own little getaway. in a world of capitalism, despite everything, they give us all of these for free. like holy fuck. shout out to every fanfic writer. I wish all fanfic writers a very ‘I love you with all my heart and soul. I thank you from the bottom of my heart’
I don’t know if anyone’s made this joke yet
IN THE BATCAVE
Bruce: *sitting at Batcomputer minding his own business*
Jason: *getting ready for patrol*
Dick: *asks nicely*
Dick: Jay, could you hand me my escrimas?
Jason: *deadpans*
Jason: Go get them yourself, Dickface.
Tim: *walks in*
Tim: Jason, could you toss me my bo staff, please?
Jason: *no hesitation, tosses Tim his bo staff*
Dick: *shooketh*
Dick: Why do you help him and not me??? I'm your big bro, Little Wing!
Jason: Middle children have to stay together.
Dick: *confused af because Jay and Tim are his only brothers*
Tim: *curious*
Bruce: *frozen before turning around slowly*
Dick: Jason, you're the only middle child... right?
Jason: *laughs nervously*
Jason: Oh, would you look at that! Crime Alley is calling my name!
Jason: *runs*
---
SOMEWHERE IN NANDA PARBAT
Damian: *sneezes*
Damian: Somebody mentioned me.
---
LATER THAT EVENING
Talia: *on the phone with Bruce*
Talia: What! Me?! Hide a child of yours?!
Talia: *looks at Damian and a picture of Jason*
Talia: Never, Beloved.