Dr's Assistant Danny

So, Danny has to run away from Amity after deciding to tell his parents about his powers. They acted like they accepted him, but when his back was turned they shot him with one of their Inventions and dragged him into the Lab for Study.

They think he's been taken over by a Ghost and decide to be "Surgeons" by opening him up and removing the Ghost by hand. Throughout all of this, they are just telling Danny that they are qualified doctors and can definitely do this perfectly. But they don't even use Anesthesia, and don't know the first thing about Surgery. But their delusions of being perfect Doctors have taken a hold of them, and they can't even comprehend the idea that they are doing it wrong.

After a week of "Surgeries", they mess up and forget to lock his Cell, and Danny manages to escape, hopping on a Bus headed to New Jersey.

He ends up in Gotham, hiding in an Alley to avoid Civilians and to bandage himself up. Thankfully his parents stitched him up fairly well after the last session, but he is still really hurt. And the cuffs restricting his powers don't help either.

He passes out in the Alley and wakes up in a Doctors Office. He panics, thinking that his parents found him and took him back to the Lab. Thankfully, the resident Dr rushes in to calm him down.

It's Dr Leslie Thompkins, and she really wants her patient to stop struggling thank you very much.

She manages to calm him down, and explains that she found him in the Alley, but that he was seriously injured. He was out for 4 days.

He explains what he can, that he told his parents that he had powers and that they didn't take it well. Not the Ghost thing, but he does explain that his parents could charitably be referred to as "Mad Scientists", and Dr Thompkins figures it out from there.

Since he doesn't have a place to stay, she let's him stay at her place. It's not much, but it's enough for 2 people.

After a few days, he starts helping out in the Clinic as a way to repay her.

After a few weeks, he starts taking on the bigger jobs and starts learning about medical aid

A few months in, and both Danny and Leslie realize that he has basically become her Personal Assistant. So she trains him in the legitimate way, teaching him all she can about being a Doctor and basically everything he would have learned in Medical School, which really helps with his trauma over the whole "constant unethical surgery from people who claimed to be licensed professionals" thing.

He still has those Restraining Cuffs on, they could never figure out how to take them off and they were basically unbreakable, but he was fine on his own.

And a note to add to this is that all of this is taking place in the early Years of Batman, like Years 1 and 2. So it's certainly a shock when Danny walks in for work and sees The Batman lying on a Cot.

Over the many following years, Danny gets used to his life in Gotham. He managed to contact Jazz, and his friends as well, even if they needed to keep it very secret for fear of his parents finding out.

He manages to get on friendly terms with most of the Bat Family from their many, many, many visits to the Clinic.

He never does reveal his past to them, he knows that they would never not poke their noses into it, so he tried to keep it on the down low around them. He even hid his Cuffs all these years. (He doesn't want to attract his parents attention)

But that all changed one day.

He messes up. He accidently calls Jazz outside of their scheduled safe times and his parents just so happen to be visiting her new house at the time. They pick up the call for her, and Danny, not knowing it's not Jazz on the other end, says "Hey Jazz, it's Danny. Just wanted to let you know that I'll he busy with work for a while so I won't be able to call as often".

When he gets no response, he gets concerned and asks "Jazz? You there?"

His parents immediately begin to trace the Call, but before they can get an exact location Danny wises up and hangs up. Buts it's too late, his Parents know he's in Gotham now, even if they don't know exactly where.

Danny doesn't know that they tracked him down though, but he quickly figures it out when Red Hood is rushed into the Clinic a week later after being attacked by "A big guy in an orange jumpsuit with a laser gun", who was joined by "A tiny lady in a blue jumpsuit with a baseball bat"

The Drs Fenton reached Gotham and immediately began tracking any Ecto-Signatures they could find. And Red Hood just so happened to be the closest one.

Now Danny has to find a way to deal with his parents without his powers. Since the Anti-Ecto Laws are still in effect, they aren't technically doing anything Illegal, and their Government Contracts would protect them either way.

He needs to figure out how to get rid of them. Due to the high concentration of Ectoplasm in Gotham, there are many unknowing Liminals in the City. His parents could end up attacking many innocent Civilains in search for him, maybe even subjecting them to the same things he was subjected to.

The only way he can think to do that is to give himself up.

Of course he knows Dr Leslie would disagree, but before she can stop him he sneaks out in the middle of the night, leaving a note thanking her for all that she had done for him over the years. It explains that the people who attacked Red Hood are his infamous Parents, and that they are searching for him. They could end up hurting alot of people if they stay, so he needs to nip this in the bud and is going to turn himself in to them.

She immediately takes the note to Batman.

She still vividly remembers the state she found Danny in. He still has the V-Shaped Scar on his chest from his experiences with his parents, and she'll be damned if she' going to let that happen to him again. (She kind of adopted him as her son a while ago)

She tells them everything. How she found him in the Alley, his injuries, how she nursed him back to health, his story about Meta-Hating Mad Scientist Parents, the unbreakable Cuffs he always hid, all of it.

Now it's a race to find Danny and save him from his Parents again.

Short DPXDC Prompts #773

Danny works as a Gotham bomb disposal technician

The problem with bombs in Gotham is that they were only sometimes just "bombs."

Sometimes they were traditional incendiaries, which could be detonated or deconstructed safely either where they were or in a safe location.

Sometimes, they would release anything from toxic nightmare gas to a concerning number of insects.

And sometimes they had an internal, shielded mechanism that would send a signal to another bomb to detonate if/when the mechanism's casing was damaged.

Long story short? The bomb disposal crew in Gotham had a high turnover rate.

But they paid well, which is why Danny Fenton applied for the job. He wouldn't even need a second job to cover his living expenses while in college, and he could keep someone else from being hired in his place.

Someone much easier to kill, in all likelihood.

It was his engineering studies they hired him for.

It was his uncanny ability to disable active bombs that they kept him on for.

Wires? Give him ten seconds and he could tell you which one would give the detonation signal (It was almost like he could sense the electricity running through them).

Unknown contents? He could tell from the type of container alone whether they would be gas, liquid, or something else (it had to be based by the kind of container. He had no way to know what was actually inside, right?).

Internal device? Somehow, he could dismantle or disable them before the signal could be sent beyond the shielding (he was also uncannily difficult to catch quality video or picture of, but that couldn't be related, right?).

In fact, he was so skilled at the job that deaths among the bomb disposal crews as a whole decreased from dozens to single digits for the quarter.

And the Bats couldn't help but take notice.

The Police Detective in charge of the Bomb Disposal Squad, both police and civilian engineer branches, looked up from her computer at The Batman. She leveled him with an unimpressed look and raised a finger for a moment to finish her work.

After a minute of silence, she shut her computer and leveled her gaze at him. "Batman. What brings you here?"

"Detective Smith. What do you know about Daniel Fenton?"

"I know that he's the best on my team, and that without him, many people would be dead."

"Is he a meta?"

She pursed her lips, regarding him for a long moment. "If I were to answer that question, and the young man were to, for whatever reason, come under scrutiny by you and your colleagues and be frightened away, do you know how many people's lives would be at stake and likely lost?"

He tilted his head slightly, indicating for her to go on.

Detective Smith continued. "So, I will assume I misheard you. Could you ask me the question again?"

A moment of silence, and then, "is he being fairly compensated for his work? It... would be unfortunate for such a skilled young man to leave due to not being paid fairly for his work."

The detective smiled. "Oh, he is being paid quite well. With the decrease in necessary bereavement payments, our funding has managed to go further than usual this year. Not that we would say no to an expansion."

"I will see who I can talk to."

Guys, guys listen! This is a perfect prompt for a specific line thrown in! You know, that famous line????

What I love about this is that he’s effective at his job in mostly mundane ways. Like, some of his powers might give him an edge but it’s mainly his engineering and experience disabling his parents tech that make his so good at it

But I can still see one day, maybe he does it, maybe a coworker does, but someone fucked up. With seconds before it blows, in a panic he SWALLOWED THE WHOLE BOMB

Somehow, it work

Yes!!

what the everloving fuck

What a moron.

The Witch Who Spoke to the Wind

Sequel to Eindred and the Witch

In which Severin, the golden eyed witch, learns that his greatest enemy and truest love is fated to kill him.

-

-

Dealing in prophecies is a dubious work. Anyone who knows anything will tell you as much.

“Think of all of time as a grand tapestry,” his great-grandmother had said, elbow deep in scalding water. Her hands were tomato red, and Severin watched with wide golden eyes as she kneaded and stretched pale curds in the basin. “You might be so privileged to understand a single weave, but unless you go following all surrounding threads, and the threads around those threads, and so on - which, mind you, no human can do - you’ll never understand the picture.”

Severin, who was ten years old and had never seen a grand tapestry, looked at the cheese in the basin and asked if his great-grandmother could make the analogy about that instead.

“No,” she replied. “Time is a tapestry. Cheese is just cheese.”

And that was that.

By fifteen, Severin who was all arms, legs, and untamable black hair, decided he hated prophecies more than anything in the world. He occupied himself instead with long walks atop the white bluffs well beyond his family’s home. Outside, he could look at birds, and talk to the wind, and not think about the terrible prophecy which followed him like a shadow.

His second eldest sister had revealed it - accidentally, of course. Severin lived in a warm and bustling house with his great-grandmother, grandmother, mother, two aunts, and three sisters. All of whom were generously gifted in the art of foretelling (a messy business, each would say if asked), and every one of them had seen Severin’s same bleak thread.

He would die. Willingly stabbed through the heart by his greatest enemy and truest love.

Willingly. That was the worst part, he thought.

Severin, who had no talent in the way of prophecies, but plenty of talent in the realm of wind and sky, marched along the well-worn trail, static sparking around his fingertips as the brackish sea breeze nipped consolingly at his face and hair.

I will protect you if you ask me to, it blustered, and Severin was comforted.

He didn’t care who this foretold stranger was. When this enemy-lover appeared, Severin would ask the wind to pick them up and take them far, far away. Far enough that they could never harm him. The wind whistled in agreement. And so it was settled.

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Being Villagers

Based off this story prompt/fill (X) where you are born with a designation like Hero, Demon King, Blacksmith, etc.

Your name is Dolly. You are a Villager. You, as well as anyone, know what that means.

——————-.

You are sixteen and it is your first day at school.

Your first lesson is that Villagers are the only ones who start so late.

“Because there’s not much to be taught,” a boy says. His clothes are made of finer cloth than your mother’s wedding dress and his hair is as shiny as the brass buckles on his shoes. He grins at you, as proud as a peacock in front of half the class. “Don’t need to ask what your Destiny is, do I?”

You don’t know why he’s singling you out. A quick glance back into the classroom shows the rest of the students sitting at their desks with their heads low. They’re Villagers too. Most of you are. That’s why there isn’t anything special enough about any of you. You look back at the boy. “…are you going to ask me something else?”

“What?”

“If you don’t need to ask me my Destiny,” you say slowly, “do you need to ask me something else?”

“I don’t need to ask anything from a Villager!” the boy cries. He jabs a finger at his own bicep where his mark lies under cloth. “I’m a Lord!”

“Okay,” you say. The other kids behind him are frowning at you. Some of them are Villagers too, but different from you. They’re the children of merchants which is a different sort of destiny altogether. “I need to run some errands for my mother. Will you let me pass?”

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Magpie Love

“The first rule of love,” her mother says, voice crackling over the phone, “is to never take more than they can give.”

Finola’s eyes dart to the shoebox under her bed and then back out the dorm window. Her room is on the second floor this year and she can see more of the trees than she can see of the grassy space preceding the dining hall. “I know, Mom.”

“Remember.” Her mother’s voice is sharp and Finola can almost see her heavy, thick brows lowering until shadows cover her eyes. “No clothing. No bags. Never any jewelry.”

Finola wraps her free arm around her waist and closes her eyes. The light breeze rolling through the window smells like eucalyptus and mint. Her mouth waters. “I know, Mom.”

“Those are the big things,” her mother says, “but remember that too many of the small things can amount to a big thing.”

The shoebox under the bed gleams in a stray ray of light. Finola licks her lips. “I know, but—I need something. I have to. I feel like she’ll disappear if I don’t.” The words are inadequate for the sick fear in her stomach each time she loses sight of her. The horrible certainty that something bad will happen if she’s not by her side. She rubs a hand over her mouth.

Her mother’s tongue clicks. “That’s old instincts, Finola. Fight it. You don’t want your father and I to pull you out of school, do you?”

The memory of watching her high school fade out of sight surfaces and, in that moment, she’s sixteen again. She can feel her heart beating too fast, the scream ripping out of her throat, the way the ropes chafed her wrists. She can smell her first love’s perfume, cloying peach, in the air. She can feel their separation like a death in the pit of her stomach, radiating up into her chest, her throat, her head.

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Absolutely stunning!!! I love how possessive they are of each other

You were once the demon king. “Defeated” by the hero, you went into hiding to pursue a simpler life. Today the “hero” has appeared, threatening you family to pay tribute, not realizing who you actually are. Today you show them what happens when you have something worth fighting to protect.

You are told at seven that you won’t ever do anything good in your life. You grow up knowing that it doesn’t matter that you help your younger sister make her letters properly or that you’re the one who stays up late with mother when too many custom orders come through the tailor shop. It doesn’t matter that you don’t want to hurt anyone or control anyone or anything of the sort. It doesn’t matter that your name means Light in your mother’s native language because as soon as they realize that you’re the Demon King, no one ever calls your name again.

You are chased out of your village the moment your powers bloom at fifteen years old, and the skies turn black with your fear. A rock hits you between your shoulder blades just as you make it to the main road and you stumble, falling to your knees in a mud puddle at the very moment the skies open up.

“She’s cursing us!” the midwife who delivered you screams over the thunder. “She’s damning us with her!”

Your mother is crying, but she doesn’t raise a hand to help you. She did everything she could, keeping your Role a secret all these years. She won’t risk anymore with another little girl to take care of.

No one tells you that you have a choice. No kind stranger drags you out of the rain and into the warmth of their home where a wise sage tells you it is not how we are born, but what choices we make.

Instead, you take the little pack your mother hid for you in the depths of the forest and sling it over your shoulder. There’s money, provisions, and more wraps to cover the evil mark on your left bicep.

“Your destiny will find you,” your mother told you only hours ago. “I forgive you for it.”

She meant the words as a comfort, but you only heard condemnation in it. Without having killed so much as a fly, she is already blessing you with forgiveness.

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Gorgeous! I love how the demon king came to learn her true worth.

You’ve been sentenced to 400 years for multiple murders. It’s been 399 years and your jailers are starting to get nervous.

I was twenty… twenty-five, I think?… when I was sentenced. Four hundred years was a length of time I couldn’t even imagine. It was a length of time I don’t think anyone could imagine, even the judge. It was just a big showy number that let everyone know I’d never see the light of day again. The mages who cast the spells were dramatic about it, practically shouting the part about ‘until death claims you, or four hundred years hath passed, forsooth, thou shalt be imprisoned here’. They don’t waste that kind of magic on most prisoners, but I was special.

The Slayer, they called me then. The Monster of Sentan. I’d killed nineteen people… I remember that number because I was so furious that they stopped me so close to my goal of twenty-one. And I didn’t just kill ordinary people, no, but the Chosen of the Gods. The Great and Good. They were terrified of me. So they locked me away, to die forgotten.

It had been a little less than a hundred years when the king died without heir, and a civil war tore the country apart. When the fighting was all over, the losers were dragged down to the deepest cells under the castle, and the new king and his soldiers stopped and stared at me. “Who… who is this?” he asked, frowning. “Some victim of the usurper?”

People like cooks and jailers and scrubbers don’t change as easily as kings. The same man who’d been bringing me my meals since there was still brown in his hair and beard shuffled forward, hunched and grey now. “No, yer majesty,” he said humbly. “That be a special prisoner, from before the old king died.”

“Special? Special how?” He frowned, moving closer to my cell. “The old king died more than ten years ago. This woman must have been a child then. What could she have done to - “

“Don’t get too close, yer majesty,” the old man said sharply. “That’s the Monster of Sentan… an’ she bites.”

That was true. I do bite.

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You’ve been sentenced to 400 years for multiple murders. It’s been 399 years and your jailers are starting to get nervous.

I was twenty… twenty-five, I think?… when I was sentenced. Four hundred years was a length of time I couldn’t even imagine. It was a length of time I don’t think anyone could imagine, even the judge. It was just a big showy number that let everyone know I’d never see the light of day again. The mages who cast the spells were dramatic about it, practically shouting the part about ‘until death claims you, or four hundred years hath passed, forsooth, thou shalt be imprisoned here’. They don’t waste that kind of magic on most prisoners, but I was special.

The Slayer, they called me then. The Monster of Sentan. I’d killed nineteen people… I remember that number because I was so furious that they stopped me so close to my goal of twenty-one. And I didn’t just kill ordinary people, no, but the Chosen of the Gods. The Great and Good. They were terrified of me. So they locked me away, to die forgotten.

It had been a little less than a hundred years when the king died without heir, and a civil war tore the country apart. When the fighting was all over, the losers were dragged down to the deepest cells under the castle, and the new king and his soldiers stopped and stared at me. “Who… who is this?” he asked, frowning. “Some victim of the usurper?”

People like cooks and jailers and scrubbers don’t change as easily as kings. The same man who’d been bringing me my meals since there was still brown in his hair and beard shuffled forward, hunched and grey now. “No, yer majesty,” he said humbly. “That be a special prisoner, from before the old king died.”

“Special? Special how?” He frowned, moving closer to my cell. “The old king died more than ten years ago. This woman must have been a child then. What could she have done to - “

“Don’t get too close, yer majesty,” the old man said sharply. “That’s the Monster of Sentan… an’ she bites.”

That was true. I do bite.

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What a stunning read! I love how time granted her patience, but did not turn her away from vengeance.

Wow, Daegu (South Korea) went from not protecting Daegu Pride in 2018 the way they should've to receiving education sessions on Queer culture and becoming public allies and vowing to protect Pride from then on and doing exactly so every single year culminating in this year when their hobgoblin of a mayor tried to destroy Pride, and now even protesting in favor of Pride? Growth.

It's important to note that the courts also supported Pride and the mayor publicly threatened the police chief, yet the police still went to protect and support Pride.

"South Korean news agency Yonhap estimated that about 500 protesters and 1,500 police officers were at the scene. The festival ultimately continued, with the parade taking place as planned."

I DIDN’T LEARN ABOUT THIS IN DRIVING SCHOOL

Stop says the red light, go says the green

Wait says the yellow light, twinkling in between. 

KNEEL, SAYS THE DEMON LIGHT WITH ITS EYE OF COAL  SAURON KNOWS YOUR LICENSE PLATE  AND STARES INTO YOUR SOUL

THIS IS ALWAYS FUNNY

@irritatedlifeguard I agree with your tags.

ooooh I wholeheartedly agree

my archive is full of said classic posts, if anyone wants to make this happen :)

If you can't wash it off, paint over it, replace the item, or buff it out, turn a message of hate into one of love! I would never condone someone to do this discreetly and in mere seconds with a quickly concealed permanent marker, for example on a public bench or bus stop. Certainly not anything like whipping out a tat machine and adding to an unconscious white supremacist's existing tattoo. That would be illegal! :) And, dear followers, I would never encourage you to do something that's illegal. So, please only use this when someone has defaced your personal property to avoid breaking the law! Because that would be illegal, and following in the law is always in everyone's best interest. :) .... :) reblogs and even reposts definitely welcome

Lovely!

Body Double? You mean Double Trouble.

Jack Fenton has a weird job. It pays well enough to fund his family's ghost research, and he only has to run to Gotham like, four times a year.

What's his job?

Body Double.

His job is to drop everything and attend galas as Brucie Wayne when Brucie Wayne calls.

Okay, but Tim with powers? Yes, please!

Imagine what would happen during Red Hood's attack on Tim at Titan's Tower if Tim inherited Jack's strength and/or durability, but had been hiding it.

*∆ That was what I originally wrote, but I had so many ideas are popping into my head that needed to come out*

--Post-Tim-becomes-an-orphan and post-Danny-is-Phantom-reveal.

The JL, TT, or YJL needs help with some kind of magical baddie/ghost/Trigon, so Red Robin calls up Phantom.

After Danny mops the floor with the bad guy, people are like "How do you know this guy?" And Tim just goes "That's my little brother."

---Would Tim even be adopted by Bruce? Because I think Jack and Maddie would be absolutely fine with taking Tim in. Maybe they'll even move to Gotham.

---Vlad would definitely try to use this to his advantage only for it to hilariously backfire on him.

He finds out about Tim first and goes to "console" Maddie, only to find out she already knew about the cheating and has completely forgiven Jack, but didn't know about Tim and didn't know that Tim has just been orphaned.

The whole family disappears for a week and comes back with Jazz and Danny's older brother. Tim was already working with the Bats, but they don't treat him right, so he goes with the Fentons. He finds out about everything that's going down I Amity Park and decides to create a new hero identity so he can help Danny.

He's the one that gets the Fentons to realize how creepy and unstable Vlad is.

---OMFG! What if it's been an open secret that Bruce Wayne is Tim's 'real' dad? Somehow Bruce never found out because people only made backhanded remarks about it to Jack or were so vague he assumed it was about something else.

Does he eventually have to come clean about having a body double? Maybe it's why he tries to adopt Tim.

After the Drakes die, someone makes a remark about how Bruce having to own up to his bastard child. Bruce having no idea what they're talking about because Jack never told Bruce about the incident. He was too concerned with Maddie leaving him for cheating.

Ha! Yes.

Jason goes to attack Tim again. Tim, terrified and angry and hurt, shoving out his hands and-

-suddenly Jason is going through the wall on the opposite side of the room.

Jason is knocked unconscious.

Tim is left staring in shock at his outstretched hands.

Tim knows that if Bruce finds out he had enhanced strength, he'd either have Robin taken away or become very, very limited in what he can do; because a meta with super-strength on fear toxin?

Bruce would never allow the risk.

So he spends the next fifteen minutes tying Jason up and trying to manhandle an unconscious Conner down the stairs. By the time he manages to pull himself together enough to reach out to Bruce, Jason is starting to wake up.

He manages to beg Conner to pretend that he was the one to knock Jason through the wall, and Conner, very bemused, agrees. While Bruce is interrogating Jason, who is alive and holy shit that appeared to be wayyyyyy less of a surprise to the Big Bad Bat than it should have been, Conner spirits Tim away for strength control training.

Then Conner dies and stuff happens, and when Conner comes back...there's no Tim.

Robin is some new kid, and there's no new vigilante in Gotham that he can find, and he's starting to get a little concerned?

Takes some asking around, but eventually he gives in and just pinpoints Tim's heartbeat.

After Jack died Tim had gone to Bruce, but when Bruce had died he'd vanished, and temporarily come back as Red Robin just long enough to tell everyone how to get Bruce back, and then just disappeared again.

He'd gone to his biological father, Jack Fenton, and gotten officially adopted. Taken in? Whatever the official term is. Tim is now Timothy Jackson Drake-Fenton; he completely nixed Wayne from his name.

Not that he had a grudge or anything; just that Wayne was a very recognizable name and it had to go if he was going to move on. He's still open for contact, but he won't be the one initiating it.

His hero moniker is Rook, and he now specializes in both occult matters and normal hero matters. He is a fantastic bridge between JLA and JLD; if someone isn't sure if what they're dealing with is paranormal Rook is the first one they contact.

Demons hate him, because he almost always outsmarts them in contract deals. John hates him, because Tim single-handedly owns every single piece of his soul now. Danny adores him, because he has an older brother who was trained by the goddamn Batman and is super cool omg.

The government fucking despises him.

Rook, within one week after his debut, dismantled the GIW and exposed every single politician that had backed them for misconduct, forcing a lot of resignations.

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah this got away from me.

Your brain, I like it.

*chef's kiss*

Art by u/reachling

Get his ass

Hell yeah

The most ridiculous thing about this shit is that the idea that skeletal remains can be easily and unambiguously 'sexed' is absolutely bunkus

Source: https://www.sapiens.org/biology/intersex-biological-sex/

Cis transphobes, you too could have your skeleton miscategorised hundreds of years after your death, because neither gender nor sex are the clear binaries you want them to be. Which you would know if your view of science in these fields wasn't perpetually stuck in the first half of the 20th century.

(another good article from Sapiens on transgender perspectives on archaeology/anthropology - https://www.sapiens.org/archaeology/transgender-people-exist-in-history/ )

Anyway I just wanted to put this here to say that the assholes who go "when they find your bones" aren't even correct, in recent decades that narrow approach has been challenged in the fields of archaeology and anthropology, and don't let anyone invalidate the joy we feel in life.

Trans joy now and forever.

wait in DP you know how some ghosts are Ancients like Pandora or Vortex etc?

Well what if after beating Pariah Dark, Danny doesn’t turn into the Ghost King until he’s older or something, but the act of power is enough to ‘promote’ him to the status of Ancient?

He’d probably control space cause that’s his secondary obsession, and hope is taken by Pandora, so maybe that means he could have protecting others as it instead?

Just, imagine Danny as Phantom turning more and more space-like. His hair gets wispier and looks more like a paintbrush swept the galaxies across his head, his eyes have literal black holes/ stars in them, and whenever he moves it looks like gravity can barely hold him.

this could pair into eldritch danny too, with him not ageing at all until Clockwork points it out to him. and at that point, he kinda looks like one of the elves in the mythical forests, flying and laughing.

but imagine this in the dcu.

The watchtower’s in space, and since the Infinite Realms spans across realities and multiverses, it’s not too far of a stretch to say that they could cross paths.

Now, there’s a fight on the watchtower, and the JLA are losing cause there’s not enough people.

Someone in the league cries out for help, and it’s a coincidence that Danny’s in the area. He basically just warps the people into blackholes ( they’re not dead, just basically in a thermos)

Someone needs to write a fic about this 😭

oh wow look at this a new fic 

Pequeño pero matón

Adorable!

From the director of the union’s railroad department:

[src]

Of course, “working quietly with union leadership to find a solution that gets the workers everything they want without requiring them to strike” isn’t an ideal solution for people who value the act of striking itself over achieving the goals of a strike, but social media’s obsession with Performance Politics and their preference for an Exciting Nothing over a Boring But Good Something is nothing new

you’re assuming that a strike wouldn’t have had a good outcome, which is not a reasonable assumption when the threat of a strike was enough to force these concessions

This is what I mean about how people “value the act of striking itself over the goals of a strike.” To the people who say shit like the above, the idea of workers wanting to avoid a strike doesn’t even occur to them, even though for most workers, “we get what we want without needing to strike to get it” is what one might consider “the ideal outcome.”

Punchline

In those fics where Danny kills (or permanently maims/gets rid of) the joker on accident (or any random person who kills the joker honestly) his street name should be “punchline.”

Bc a Punchline is the end of a Joke.

Better if this is a world where ghosts fight for fun and stuff so Danny will also throw down with Grundy and Croc and Red Hood. He’ll fight random goons too, but he goes easy on them. Everyone knows he does. Like a mama cat play fighting with kittens.

“There goes Punchline, throwing hands. He’s down for a brawl but don’t cross The Line. Don’t make him mad. He earned that name, and it wasn’t with those puns.”

(Edit: I have been informed that Punchline is the name of Joker’s second girlfriend or something! We have decided that Danny stole the name the same way Jason stole Red Hood! Can we say power couple?)

HOW?

Apparently someone left a lighter in their pocket and all of That is from the gas released when the lighter ruptured

So there's slightly more to it than that, that dryer is a natural gas dryer rather than a purely electric one. So when the lighter went off (the initial small explosion) it damaged the sealed drum enough to get to the gas lines in the heating element of the dryer which then allowed the natural gas and oxygen to mix, hit the fire from the lighter, and result in the second MUCH LARGER blast.

This is one of the many reasons why you always check your pockets, and also why I've never owned a natural gas dryer, even though they're way more energy efficient than an electric one.

Also the choice of music is... Something