#because while it may be

[seagiri]

when she draw on my pile

[captain-krow-drozdov]

Danny Is An Alternate Version Of Ra's Al Ghul And Flash Already Called Dibs On Adopting Him

Danny In All His Sleep Deprived Slightly Scuffed Up From A Fight Glory Is On His Way To Clockworks Tower To Hopefully Get A Nap And Maybe Some Homework Done When A Natural Portal Opens Up In Front Of Him And Proceeds To Unceremoniously Drop Him In The DC Verse Just Outside Of Central City Before Promptly Closing Leaving A Tired Danny Behind In A Run Down Abandoned Parking Lot.

It's Times Like This When Danny Regrets Putting Off Learning How To Make His Own Portals, Cause Now He Is Very Much Stuck For The Foreseeable Future And He Has No Idea Where Or When He Is. Luckily For Him However Central City Isn't Too Far Away, Unlucky For Him However Is That Once In The City He Realizes This Isn't His Dimension. He's Pretty Sure He'd Remember Something Called The Justice League.

So What Do You Do When Supernatural Bullshit Fails You? You Fall Back On Your Mad Scientist Roots And You Make A Portal Gun. So That's Exactly What Danny Plans To Do.

Unfortunately Staying Alive And Building Questionably Safe Portal Technology Requires Money And Supplies, So He Ends Up Wandering From City To City Doing Odd Jobs/Fixing Up Busted Tech For Cash Or Unwanted Electronics For His "Operation: Get Home" Needs. This Obviously Ends In A Few Superhero Encounter Shenanigans.

Though He Always Ends Up Back Near Central City, Both On The Off Chance The Natural Portal Will Open Up Again And Because Out Of All The Superheroes That Apparently Exist In This Universe The Speedsters Are His Favorite (Red Robin Is Solidly His Second Favorite Ever Since The Gotham Vigilante Gave Him A Large Coffee Filled With Enough Caffeine To Kill A Man).

Unbeknownst To Danny However Is That Every Hero/Vigilante He Has Encountered Has Come To At Least One Of The Following Conclusions; 1. Run Away Meta Who Is In Desperate Need Of A Good Meal/Adoption Bait. 2. Possibly Red Robin/Tim Drake Clone 3. A Good Kid But Could Possibly Be A Future Rouge If Left Unsupervised. 4. Did Bats Get A New Kid And Why Is He Here?

All Flash Knows Is That He Saw The Kid First And Therefore Has Dibs. Suck It Bruce.

Fast-forward A Few Months And Danny Gets Hurt During A Rogue Attack While Trying To Help Some Civilians Get To Safety (Old Hero Habits Die Hard (Ha Die Hard) And All That Jazz) And He Nopes Out Once Everyone Is Safe And When The Paramedics Are Busy With Other People Unaware He Left A Blood Sample Behind.

One DNA Test Brought To You By Paranoid Bat Concerns Of A Possible Red Robin Clone Later And They Find Out That Dannys DNA Matches One Ra's Al Ghul.

They Now Think Danny Is An Escaped Ra's Al Ghul Clone.

Memes For The Vibes:

[kaidatheghostdragon]

Good reveal au, where after learning phantom's identity and realizing the atrocities that the GIW have committed (or alternatively, ethical science au, where they find out the GIW plagarized them), the fenton parents decided to create the 'ultimate ghost-ending weapon' and sell it to the agents.

They go absolutely overboard, describing to the agents in meticulous detail how it evaporates any ghost it hits near-instantly and describing it quite ruthlessly in the blueprints, and soon the GIW have raplaced all their main weapons with the new gun.

Except it doesn't actually kill ghosts. It's the Fenton Bazooka. You know, the one that creates a portable portal to suck the ghost back into the ghost zone? What they actually did was retool it slightly to make it look more grusome than it actually is. They even added a beacon in Phantom's Keep, which all Fenton Bazookas will target when they open a portal, so the ghosts are always delivered to the keep.

From there, Phantom stationed an emergency medical team at the keep to treat the many injured and ragged ghosts that the GIW 'destroyed,' and to explain what just happened.

What they didn't anticipate was that now that the GIW have a mass-produced weapon that they believed would effectively eradicate ghosts, they would go on the offensive. They have a number of cities they've been monitoring but didn't want to get involved in without better tools.

One of those cities is Gotham.

And the Bats are ectocontaminated enough to register as ghosts.

Batman witnessed several of his children get evaporated by green energy weapons within mere moments of each other. He's absolutely gutted. Devastated. They didn’t even stand a chance.

He'll get his revenge, and it's frighteningly easy to track the weapon to private subcontractors. The Doctors Fenton, in Illinois. Their research calls for the genocide of all ghost kind, and apparently, that war started by killing his own children.

His children will not die in vain.

He gets to Amity Park and finds the Engineer's Nightmare of a building that is Fentonworks, but that night, before he can hack through the security and break in, one of the windows opens.

It's one of his kids that he had watched evaporate before his very eyes. They give him a silent signal of one of their identifying security codes and gesture for him to come inside.

Is it a trap? A prank in poor taste? Utterly genuine?

He goes through the window.

All of his dead kids are there, wearing borrowed pajamas and only their dominoes to conceal their identities. Daniel Fenton (son of the Fentons, this is his bedroom, has voiced a few arguments against his parent's views, but still an unknown) is among the crowd of teens and young adults, twirling on an office chair and obnoxiously sipping a capri sun.

"First thing you need to know, Bats," Daniel says after finishing his drink, "is that my parents are absolutely NOT genocidal ectophobic scumbags, and that is the reason why your kids are still alive."

[radiance1]

The Justice League have a problem, one that needs some level of knowledge and expertise of a being from the Infinite Realms to give them a better chance of actually solving this problem.

However.

Every ghost they have summoned, without fail, took one look at Constantine. Squinted (yes, squinted). Then decided to go back to where they came without a word.

This. Would have been useful, nice even. If it was a situation where they needed the summoned being of a cult to head back to where they came without a fight.

But alas, that is not what is happening.

The Justice League, obviously, ask him why the ghosts keep fleeing back to their Realm at the sight of him, but Constantine can't answer because he genuinely has no idea why they keep leaving when getting a proper look at him.

So they keep trying and they do find some success in it. They summoned a boy, most likely older than he physically looks yet it still puts some of them off because of, well.

You know.

A boy with white hair and toxic green eyes. The boy stops short, as if not expecting to be randomly transported to somewhere else, takes a look around the room, then the Justice League. His eyes settle on one person.

Constantine, in particular.

He squints (Why do all of them squint? Nobody knows) and then a sudden looking of realization passes on his face. Different from the looks of vague fear and genuinely want to not involve themselves any further, his face held slight disgust and a heavy amount of disappointment.

Thankfully, he didn't leave immediately after that.

Constantine asks what's with the look on the ghost boy's face, the ghost boy in question squints even further. Stares at Constantine for a moment or two, buries his face in his hands and brings his knees to his hand and groans out.

"He could've done so much better."

[hailsatanacab]

A Persuasive Argument - dpxdc

"Great!" Danny says, clapping his hands together to get everyone's attention. The dinner table falls silent as everyone looks towards him. It's a full house today and, honestly, Danny's a little nervous. "I'm sure you're all wondering why I gathered you here today."

"It's dinnertime. In our house." Duke mutters, while doing a very bad job of concealing his yawn. He holds his fork poised over the braised beef, but, just like everyone else, still looks towards Danny before tucking in. It's intriguing enough to wait.

"Yeah, no one misses Alfie's dinner." Dick says, with a brilliant smile that Danny can't help but return.

"Precisely! What better time to talk to you all than when you're all actually here!"

"Wait, I thought you came round to work on our English essays?" Tim asks, blinking owlishly.

"I'm afraid I've lured you here under false pretences, Tim."

"This is where I live."

"I would still really appreciate help on that essay though, I mean, what the hell is Hamlet even about? I just don't get that old time-y language, like 'Hark! A ghost hath killed me!' - absolute rubbish, what does that even mean?"

"The ghost never kills anyone in Hamlet, he's there to tell Hamlet that he was murdered. Have you actually read it?"

"No, but it sounds like you have. Tim, I want this guy to help me with my essay instead. I know for a fact that you haven't read Hamlet, either."

"So? We don't need Jason, I've read the Sparknotes."

"Hi Jason, I'm Danny, pleasure to meet you, summarise Hamlet in three sentences or less."

"Am I auditioning to help you write your essays? I can't believe you’ve gone through your whole school life without reading it, it’s good!"

"Hamlet, along with a number of other classics, was banned in our house because it portrayed ghosts as intelligent and sympathetic beings rather than evil, animalistic beasts. I didn’t even get to see The Muppet's Christmas Carol until last year with Tim! It was surprisingly good, and I hate Christmas because everyone always argued and it sucked. But we're getting off topic. I—"

"No, no, please go back to that, because what the fu—"

"Boys, please." Bruce interrupts, looking to the world as if he wants to hang his head in his hands. "Danny, you were about to say something?"

"Oh, yeah, Mr. Wayne! Thanks!"

"Please, call me Bruce."

"Well, that very succinctly brings me to my point, because I'd actually really like to call you dad."

Nobody says a word. Nobody even blinks, all as shocked as the other, watching open-mouthed as Danny pulls his laptop out from beside his chair. Bruce can definitely feel a headache coming on.

"Before you say anything, I've prepared a 69 slide PowerPoint presentation on why you, Bruce Wayne, should adopt me, Danny Last-Name-Pending. Please save your questions, comments, and verdict until the end, thank you."

[hellenhighwater]

Hellen, how do you know how to do so many things? I know how to do a few things but I look at your stuff and every time I'm like "damn. I wish I could do that"

oh, I just do them.

It's after 1:30 am, so you get the existential answer. The fun thing about personhood is you get to just be whatever. You can't necessarily do whatever--money and laws are things, unfortunately, and you only get so much control over the opportunities available to you. But you can sort of just throw yourself down on the anvil of life and hammer yourself into whatever shape you want. Ideally the process of it drives out some flaws as you go, but sometimes also you take an impurity and make yourself stronger with it.

I am, still, a person who is terrified of failure; of incorrectness; of being wrong. And there is nothing to do with fear except shatter it with blunt force, and so I line myself up against failure again and again and again. I will try. I must; or the fear of failure wins, and I must keep trying after I fail or I have failed utterly. I fear failure, and therefore I take it as a challenge. I must do what I think I cannot. And you know what? More often than not, I can.

I have a weird and wandering skillset because I make myself try things, knowing full well that I will remember for decades every time someone saw me be less than instantly successful, because the only way I know to get better is to batter down the dross of my own fear. That's the deal. I'm not doing anything that nobody has done before. I know it's all possible. I just have to be the sort of person that does it. And it gets easier every time. If the question is can it be done and the answer is yes, then the next question is can I be the one to do it, and the answer is I want to be.

Every time I fail my way over and over to eventual success, trying again the next time is less scary; every time I have a broader base of skills to carry to the next challenge. I'm not unusually talented, just stubborn as hell, and I've lived long enough on I have to do what scares me that honestly, not that much scares me anymore.

If you keep failing long enough, it turns out that you just get really good at problem solving, and figuring out unconventional ways to reach your goals. It's not about a special secret concoction of skills, it's about persistence, and hammering away until you've taken a mess and made it into something you think is worth keeping. It's not easy, but it is simple.

Also I have incredibly strong unmedicated ADHD. But I sort of assume that's glaringly obvious.

[solarmorrigan]

Silly idea I talked about ages ago with @azure7539arts, inspired by a similar event my workplace hosts every year. Would minors be allowed to participate in such an event? Probably not! But then again, it was the 80s, who can say for sure. Anyway, it's my birthday and I'll post nonsense if I want to <3

-

“I need you to buy me.”

Eddie looks up from his notebook, effectively jarred from his campaign-plotting fugue state by Steve’s declaration.

Steve is standing at the other end of the dining table, staring at him expectantly.

“Y’know, this is the part where someone usually follows up their completely bonkers demand with an explanation,” Eddie says slowly.

“At the charity auction,” Steve clarifies. “I need you to bid on me, and I need you to win.”

Ah, yes, that weird Rent-an-Athlete charity auction the school runs every year; anyone on any Hawkins High sports team could volunteer to be “auctioned” off in order to raise money for said sports team, to spend a day at the beck and call of the highest bidder (within reason, supposedly). It’s generally restricted to students, but occasionally, prominent alumni are invited to participate – and Steve certainly fits the bill, especially after the story the government spun about his heroism in the face of “serial killer” Henry Creel last spring.

“And what, deny all those pretty girls a chance to get at you?” Eddie asks drily (he’d never turned up at previous auctions himself, but you could hardly avoid gossip in a school their size; it had usually been some cheerleader bidding with daddy’s money who won a date– that is, a day with Steve Harrington).

“It wasn’t always a girl who won,” Steve says, crossing his arms over his chest. “One time it was Mrs. Dalton – you know, the lady on the school board who lives on my block? I just spent the day doing yard work for her. She gave me lemonade. That was pretty cool.”

“Right,” Eddie drawls. “And I’m sure she definitely didn’t sit outside and stare at your ass while you were working.”

“She did not– she– I mean she was on the porch, but, like– she wouldn’t have– she’s, like, seventy, Eddie,” Steve splutters, and it’s all Eddie can do not to laugh.

“Older gals have needs, too, Steve,” Eddie says, giving in to a smirk. “So she was checking you out from the porch, huh?”

Steve goes red. “Shut up, that isn’t the point. I’m trying to ask for your help.”

“Right, right, your absolutely reasonable request for me to buy you at market. Why, again?” Eddie asks.

“The kids are planning to bid on me,” Steve says gravely.

Eddie blinks at him. “Okay?” he says, when no further explanation is forthcoming. “You basically do most of what they ask, anyway, so…?”

“Okay, believe it or not, I actually say no to at least half of what they ask me to do. I would literally never get anything done if I gave in to all their demands.” Steve jabs a finger at Eddie, who holds up his hands in mock surrender. “Anyway, this is all Henderson’s fault.”

“It usually is,” Eddie agrees, nodding sagely.

“He decided that he was going to bid on me and then use that day to finally make me play your nerd game with you–” Eddie snorts, and Steve shoots him a look, “but Wheeler doesn’t want me to play, so he said he was going to bid against Dustin and make me do anything but sit in on a session with you guys.”

“So let Wheeler win.” Eddie shrugs.

“No! I can’t let fuckin’ Mike win, he’ll probably make me do something even more ridiculous!” Steve exclaims. "He’ll make me play chauffeur for him and El on a date, or something, and he’ll probably include the stupid hat.”

“Wait, I thought El broke up with him,” Eddie breaks in.

“No, they’re on again,” Steve says absently, shaking his head. “Which is why Max has been in a bad mood lately.”

Eddie bites back the reflexive need to ask “How can you tell?”, going instead with, “I thought she and Sinclair were on again.”

“No, they are. That’s why no one’s been actively murdered,” Steve says.

“How do you keep track of all of this?” Eddie asks, squinting at Steve.

“It’s a natural skill. And we’re getting off track,” Steve says quickly. “Normally, I wouldn’t be that worried, because Dustin regularly blows his savings on weird science gadgets or whatever, but then Lucas and Will started taking sides.”

“This is getting very involved,” Eddie says.

“So you see why I’m stressed!” Steve insists, smacking a hand to his forehead (personally, Eddie thinks Steve is stressed for many other reasons, but he figures pointing that out just now won’t be appreciated). “Lucas is on Dustin’s side, and that kid does odd jobs like nobody’s goddamn business; he actually has shit saved up. And usually I’d have faith in him being more, like, sensible than to spend it all on this, but the little shit is really fucking competitive.”

“Wonder who he got that from?” Eddie mutters.

“Okay, we do remember that I’m not actually biologically related to any of these idiots, right?” Steve snaps.

“Well now we’re just getting into nature versus nurture–”

“Eddie.”

“Right, sorry, continue.”

“Well, Will took Mike’s side–”

“Shocking.”

“Right? But anyway, I don’t know if the kid has much saved up, but between him and Wheeler, they might be able to win.” Steve sighs, looking far more world-weary than Eddie feels the situation really warrants.

“You know you don’t actually have to do what they ask you to, right?” Eddie points out.

Steve rolls his eyes. “If an auction winner complains to the school that the person they bid on didn’t fulfill their end of the bargain, they can get their money back. It’s a whole…” he waves his hand vaguely, “thing. Happened once when I was a sophomore; Deacon McNab. Lost a good chunk of change for the football team, and they vandalized the shit out of his car.”

“Ah, right. Forgot we went to school with literal psychopaths,” Eddie hums.

“So, I just need you to bid on me and win, so I’m not stuck wasting a Saturday on whatever the hell the kids are going to try to make me do. Or not do. Or– whatever,” Steve says.

“Okay, not that I don’t understand your predicament here, but I think you’re forgetting something kind of important, Steve,” Eddie drawls.

Steve’s brows draw together in question. “What?”

“I’m fucking poor.”

“Oh.” Steve shakes his head. “I didn’t mean– no, I will give you the money, you don’t have to spend a dime, man, I just need you to get me out of this.”

“Why not have Buckley do it?” Eddie asks.

“That was Plan A, but she actually has a date that night, and it’s kind of a big deal, so I don’t want her to cancel,” Steve says. “But I assumed you wouldn’t be busy.”

“Wow, rude,” Eddie scoffs, and Steve sighs.

“Fine, sorry, I just really hoped you wouldn’t be busy.” Steve gives him the most lethal set of puppy dog eyes Eddie has ever seen, as if there had been any chance from the beginning that he’d be able to say no. “Please?”

Just for show, Eddie lets out a long sigh, falling against his chair and letting his head flop over the backrest like he’s deflating.

“Fine.”

“Thank you,” Steve groans, sounding so genuinely relieved that Eddie almost feels bad about how quickly his thoughts dip into the realms of the inappropriate. “Oh my god, I owe you.”

Eddie glances back up at Steve, tongue darting out to wet his lips almost unconsciously. “You know I’m not as easy to appease as a couple of fifteen-year-olds, right?”

Steve’s eyes drop for just a second—maybe down to Eddie’s lips, maybe not; who can say?—before he looks back up, cocking an eyebrow at Eddie. “I think I can handle it.”

Slowly, Eddie grins. “We’ll see.”

[october-cryptixx]

aro/ace themed valentine's day teddy bears ^^ because i just recently found out i might be arospec but also just cuz like..... why not

[ladeldee]

I just like the idea that once Missa hears Phil has another "kid" he'd try and do whatever he can to help and Phil feels emotions about it

[mossy-paws]

Dopplegänger

Uh oh.

(Og Photo:)

[front-facing-pokemon]

[starry-bi-sky]

DPXDC CFAU Headcanon: Ghostspeak Edition

Ghosts in the Infinite Realms who saw Jason and Danny together called them "luzdra", a term in ghost speak that directly translates into the words "shared soul". It's literal definition is; "two ghosts with a bond so deep that it was as if they had split their souls in half and given one to the other", but in general it just means two ghosts with a profound, indescribable bond.

Luzdrus is the singular form of the word, and refers to only one ghost in the bond. While "luzdra" is plural and either refers to both of them together, or the relationship as a whole. It depends on the context of the conversation and who they're saying it to.

There is no romantic, platonic, or familial connotation behind the word. It just means "someone who shares a deep bond with someone" and can be between anyone.

It also does not mean soulmate, and if you say that you'll be corrected. Soulmates implies that their bond was destined by the universe, luzdra are two people who developed and built that bond themselves. It's a relationship forged between two (or more) people.

Some of Danny's rogues -- like Kitty and Johnny, who might've seen the two together and are possibly luzdra themselves -- still call him 'luzdrus' even after Jason's disappearance from the Zone. Danny doesn't know how to feel about it.

[elainemorisi]

perhaps, for my thirties, it is time to harness my powers of not giving a solitary shit what people think of me and Learn Conversation by brute force and repetition, because hoo boy, my generation, the skill, she is lost

[kaidatheghostdragon]

De-age fic, but good parents AU

Something de-ages danny, not a clue what exactly, but it does. BUT, danny had already had a good reveal with his parents, so he goes home and they see him de-aged and immediately get to work figuring out how to get him back to normal.

Life goes on as normal, its just that danny's body is about ten years younger. He still has to go to school (with a story that the thing that de-aged danny was aimed at fenton and phantom jumped in to take the hit but it got both of them - or open secret au, take your pick), still has chores, still has to deal with the ghosts that cause problems.

With barely a pause to question 'is that still danny?' everyone continues as normal.

Thing is, there's the typical information firewall we like to invoke to explain why the justice league doesnt know about amity. It blocks ghosts, Phantom, infinite realms, liminality and ecto-contamination, you name it.

What it doesnt block? Baby Hero.

As in, now that Phantom is tiny, everyone and their dog is taking pics and recording phantom to coo all over him on social media. Everyone is enjoying how adorable he is while it lasts. Even the rogues are playing nicer to soak it all up.

The justice league is concerned. Apparently there's some new hero (phantom has been active for over a year by now, minimum) operating in the midwest, and he is literally preschool age. Even the Robins didn't start that young! Who is raising this kid? What are they thinking?!

Its frustratingly hard to get any more intel about phantom (because the firewall is still catching everything else about him), so theyre gonna have to send someone in blind to scope out the situation.

Who do they send? You can decide, but i vote they put together a team: batman (wfa characterization) because he knows how to handle child vigilantes, wonder woman because everyone loves wonder woman and she's a good voice of reason, and zatanna (NOT constantine! Zatanna is more child friendly) to cover magical bases in case this is something like a captain marvel situation.

[lucabyte]

stray thoughts

[shittysawtraps]

when your friend says “i’m becoming the joker,” reply, “well, i’m becoming jigsaw” to one-up them. do not elaborate on what this means