Happy endings all around, so cute 🥰 and I just had to share. ☺️
Little thing inspired by various Justice League summons Danny posts I've seen about.
.
Interdimensional travel was hard.
It was a true statement, and one that, in retrospect, was obvious. Of course interdimensional travel was hard. It was reaching out of your reality and into one that had an entirely different set of rules. However, having an interdimensional portal in one's basement tended to skew one's understanding of these things. That was why it took Danny so long to realize that the Observants were actually worried about him.
"Wait," he said, looking up from the (admittedly very passive-aggressive) report the crowd of Observants had just dropped on his (already crowded) desk. "You want to change my summoning ritual because you think other dimensions might hurt my human half?"
"Some of them certainly will," said one of the Observants, testily.
"I didn't know you cared about that," said Danny, still somewhat stunned.
"We normally wouldn't," admitted the Observant, "but although the position of Ghost King is, politically, a figurehead, you are metaphysically vital to the Realms as a whole. Damage to you is to be avoided, when possible."
"Uh huh," said Danny, looking back down at the summoning ritual change paperwork. Although, through a combination of Danny's own nature and the nature of time across dimensional barriers, Danny still looked fourteen and spent a great deal of his time going to school in Amity Park, he had years of experience interpreting the Observants' paperwork under his belt. "Yeah, it's just that I don't think this is the best way to, like. Do that."
"It is the best way to protect you!" said the Observant who had, apparently, been selected as the group's spokesperson.
"Maybe," agreed Danny, who wasn't entirely sure that was true. "But I feel like some of these modifications would kind of be a problem for wherever I wound up."
"Then they ought not to summon you."
While Danny agreed with that sentiment in spirit (getting summoned was almost always inconvenient and annoying), in practice, he wasn't so sure. "I don't think there's any way to communicate that to the guys who are summoning me. Like, some of them get me with old Pariah Dark rituals. And most of them don't really care if their mistakes screw over other people, so..."
"Next to the well-being of the Realms, that is a minor concern."
Danny didn't disagree with that, but he wasn't about to waste time arguing with the Observants about it. They just didn't get it. He tapped his finger on another section that was bothering him. "Also, this seems to keep me from getting out of the summoning circle at all. If someone is summoning me to ask for help, that's going to keep me from doing much."
"It will also keep you from inadvertently exiting into a hostile environment."
"Even in my home universe?" asked Danny, pointedly. "This seems like something more geared to imprisonment than protection."
The Observants were silent.
"Oh, come on, guys, really? Again?"
The Observants scattered.
Danny sighed and picked up the paperwork. He didn't think it was all bad ideas, honestly, but he needed a second opinion that hadn't tried to stuff him in the Sarcophagus of Forever Sleep Mark 2.
Maybe Clockwork would look it over for him.
.
"It isn't an entirely terrible concept," said Clockwork, "except for the obvious drawbacks."
"The whole being trapped in the summoning circle bit," said Danny.
Clockwork nodded. "To be fairer than they deserve, there is no way to modify that portion of a summoning ritual in some types of universes but not others. Not from our own side of things, in any case."
"And I mostly can't get at the other side," said Danny with a groan. He perched on the back of Clockwork's chair. "I do want to make sure that I, I don't know, fit with other universes enough that I won't completely demolish them just by existing."
Clockwork hummed. "There are some ways to do that. There are drawbacks, however."
"Bigger drawbacks than accidentally nuking a planet because my radiation is different than theirs?"
"It depends on your perspective, I suppose."
Danny sighed. "Go ahead and tell me, then."
Clockwork picked up a pen. "You are a shapeshifter. You have multiple forms, one of which cannot be harmed through any normal means and which similarly would have little negative affect on the environment unless you acted to cause negative effects. Change the current ritual so that a summoning puts you in that form, and then further change it so that you cannot leave the circle unless you are in a form that will not automatically cause harm or be harmed by the laws of that universe."
"You mean my Ghost King form."
"All your forms are your Ghost King form."
"You know what I mean."
"I do," said Clockwork, smiling.
"It freaks people out, though."
"Your current form might, as you say, freak people out," said Clockwork. "If your summoners were, say, ants."
"Is that likely?"
"Not particularly. But consider the multiverse. Not all of your summoners will be human."
Danny crossed his arms, frustrated that there wasn't an easy solution. "I guess I could always shapeshift into something nonthreatening after. Hard to see if it's something safe without running into
"You can do more than that."
"I can?"
"Yes," said Clockwork, setting the pen to paper. "Let me show you."
.
The summoning circle shimmered and shivered as Constantine and Zatanna recited the chant, their voices rising and falling. Batman and other members of the League stood by, watching, waiting.
This, this ritual, wasn't their first choice. It wasn't their second, third, or fourth choice, either. But nothing else they had tried worked, and the entire world was at stake.
They were summoning the King of All Ghosts. An eldritch monstrosity that had once tried to conquer all realities. But the alternative was worse. Much worst. At least, with the King of All Ghosts, there was a chance that they could negotiate and that it'd want the Earth more or less intact for the sake of conquering it. At least, with this kind of summoning, they could offer a sacrifice, a bargain, a deal.
And if Constantine was good at anything, it was deals.
The lines of the summoning circle flared green, then pure white, and, without any other fanfare, the King of All Ghosts was there.
It filled the circle with starry darkness, struck with nebulae and aurorae. The clouds rippled as a star died near its heart, fiery cataclysms spreading throughout the being. A crown like the accretion disk of a black hole burned around its highest extremity.
Something like a voice, echoing and many-layered, emanated from the being. "Nghftùsh phlarûm âzgûm (1)." It paused, and the League felt it examine the area more closely. "Ko wgâ âzgûm nghftùsh derza. Ko gok hubhûfh fhtù gâh mglwnuh...(2)"
Constantine swore. "Oh, bollocks, I don't know that one. Would it be too much to ask that one of these things speak English? Just a little?"
"Nghftùsh ak. Ko ngngi. (3)"
"Zatanna," said Batman, "could a spell let us understand one another?"
"Kù-nghînku bùr fùmúu umni snîgûrip. (4)" It seemed to bend closer for all that it didn't move. "Nghftùsh laglúfhâk krîk ko phlî ak phlorza. Chthe nî hîhnâ, ka. (5)"
"I think I understand a little," said Captain Marvel, raising a hand. "I think it understands us just fine."
"Hagthu. Nghftùsh ngngi ùk nî chthe kûmpù nû gâ. (6)"
"It wants to get out of the circle," said Captain Marvel.
The veils of green light that shrouded the being rippled. "Dal phlù. (7)"
"Not without an agreement in place, you're not," said Constantine.
"Gagthashîzgathg. (8)"
"God," whispered Flash, "that hurts my throat just hearing it."
Batman shot him a glare, then stepped forward. They'd prepared a list of demands. Most of them were negotiable, but it was better to start something like this with things you were willing to remove or throw away. It took several minutes for Batman to read the whole thing.
"Ku. Chthal lohúfhâk hagthu. Fhta nghftùsh kâk phlorza ko thru. (9)"
"What did it say?" asked Batman.
"I'm... I think it said it'll do it, but it needs something from us in return."
Batman nodded. They'd expected something like this. Whatever it asked for, it would, without a doubt, be exorbitant. Then, they'd go back and forth, reducing each of their demands until they'd reached a deal both sides hated, but could accept. Constantine had bet that, at minimum, the King of All Ghosts would want the entire population of Earth as slaves.
"Nghftùsh kâk hû ko mglwno nî phnglâ gho-lobi. (10)"
"Uh," said Captain Marvel. "I think he said one of our lives."
"Hik! Rlo phlarâk kruk nîk ghû. (11)"
"Not just any of us," said Marvel. "It has to be someone who's a parent."
A tension fell over the room. They'd known they'd have to sacrifice something. A single life wasn't much, but for the King of All Ghosts to specify a parent...
"But are you sure it's just one?" pressed Constantine.
The King of All Ghosts gave off a sense of... exasperation? "Úzg, hû. (12)"
"One," said Captain Marvel. "Just one."
"And just us, not our kids or anything?"
"Nghftùsh ngngi ùk e nghuu. Gù phlarâk fush ko du? (13)"
"No, it doesn't want children. They're... wrong, somehow?"
"And it's not a sex thing?" Constantine sounded... strangely hopeful.
"Hik! Fhtùl! (14)"
"No," said Captain Marvel. "And... something about fat, maybe?"
"Oh, we're definitely getting eaten, then," said Constantine, with forced cheer. "I volunteer, then. It's not like my kids are sitting up waiting for me or anything."
"Hik nuk. Ngngi ko. E hâta phlarâk lerzaolûm. (15)"
"Not you, there's... something wrong with your soul."
"Oh, he's a picky eater, too, huh?"
"Let's not antagonize him, okay?" said Flash. "He's kind of-- He's kind of looming, right now."
And so it was. Somehow. Without moving.
"Who will... satisfy you?" asked Batman.
The entity did not move, but it managed to indicate Batman anyway.
"Very well," said Batman, before anyone could even attempt to talk him out of it. After all, his life for the lives of everyone in this universe was a very good deal. "Take me."
For the first time, the King of All Ghosts moved, all that darkness, all that light, rushing towards Batman.
There was a burst of blinding light.
When everyone opened their eyes again, a boy with black hair, blue eyes, and a jawline that bore more than a passing resemblance to Batman's was stepping out of the summoning circle.
"That's much better," he said, stretching. "No offense, dude, but you kind of suck at Ghost Speak." He turned to Batman. "What I was asking for was a template so I could exist in your universe and do what you want without accidentally blowing it up because of incompatible physics, but whatever. Not sure how you guys got me eating you out of that."
"You wanted a human appearance so you could better conquer this world?" asked Batman.
"Uh, no? You've got a pretty strong clause against conquering the world in your paperwork there. You're probably thinking about Pariah Dark, but he's old news." The boy smiled widely. "Let's get started on your problem, okay?"
I've been summoned.
You haven't summoned me before. You have a nice space station here...
I can. You can't.
Inter-dimensional language differences are so annoying.
I hope you can do something. This will be difficult, otherwise.
Good. I don't want to be in this circle forever.
Close enough.
Figures (literally, 'certainly').
Okay. That sounds good. But I need something from you.
I need one of you to be my template (literally, life-pattern).
No! It's like being a parent.
Yes, one.
I don't want your children. What is wrong with you?
No! Gross!
No way. Not you. You're crazy (literally, your soul is cracked).
And both boys absolutely get a kick out of it every time too. They think it’s the best thing ever, and will never tell her not too. The rest of the Justice League know it looks funky, but also, who in their right mind would tell WW that? 😂
He's been denied entry into the Justice League yet again, but that's fine.
He's not angry.
Nope.
But like, he is feeling like getting a little bit of revenge. Not angry revenge, which would be totally different.
But...petty.
He wants petty revenge.
And he knows where the Watchtower is.
So he makes it his mission to sneak into the Watchtower, over and over and over again, and while completely invisible and intangible, eat the inside of all the heroes treats and meals, so that all they're left with is a hollowed out shell.
Cakes? Just a shell. Sandwiches? Difficult but he manages to hollow those out too. Ice Cream? Just the outside. Spaghetti? Almost impossible, but he manages to do a swap instead; it's spaghetti laying on top of old cardboard. Anything inside of a wrapper? He eats it and leaves the wrapper.
This one seems like it’s going to be soo much fun. 🙃😉
DCXDP - Danny is a flerken, this causes Dick a lot of concern
Dick doesn't like Damian's new cat, or everyone thinks it's a cat, at least. It's kinda big for the size of a regular house cat, and it's whole body is like a weird trippy illusion; black with blue eyes one moment, white with green the next.
Damian claims he just picked it up off the street, and he's overall utterly unperturbed with the cat. According to him the thing was probably some sort of escaped lab experiment, and he is determined to figure out who was testing so inhumanely on animals. May God have mercy on their souls when that boy reaches them.
No one in the family quite likes the cat, except Damian, obviously.
The animal just has a way of sneaking into where it's not supposed to. It's always watching. Always just around the corner. Always at the exact place you don't want it to be at that exact moment.
Tim in particular is very annoyed by the cat. He likes to sit on Tim's paperwork, press buttons on his computer, and stick his face in Tim's coffee. The cat actively makes Tim's life harder whenever it gets the chance. Damian finds this to be the best form of comedy, because he is a little menace(lovingly).
Dick thinks he has it the worst with the cat overall though. Why? Because no one believes him about this stupid animal. Sure, they all agree that the cat is fucking weird, at the very least it's more sapient than a cat should be, but that's as far as they take it.
Not Dick.
Dick managed to sneak up on it once, and only once, and has never even attempted again. He just wanted to get back at the creature after it spent all day tripping him as he walked down the halls. It was harmless! Honestly, he just expected the cat to jump, maybe hiss, and skitter away for the rest of the day.
Instead the cat whirled around and opened its jaw so wide Dick swears its chin began to grace the floor, and then glowing green tentacles came out! They latched around his arms, covered his nose and mouth, and began to pull him into the tooth filled abyss of its jaws.
He felt the life in him leave before he was even half way pulled in. The fight slowly began to drain out of him, and the room was getting so so cold. Dick really thought this was how he was going to die, via his baby brother's freaky ass cat.
And then Damian's voice rang out, sharp and firm, simply calling the name of his cat lovingly dubbed "Phantom". The name Dick gave him, actually, because the cat travelled around the house like a ghost. Damian is the one who decided the name ghost was too childish, and thus, Phantom came about.
Damian arrived to him laying on the floor, Phantom on top of his chest purring away, as if the thing didn't try to consume him mere moments ago.
"Lying on the floor is quite unbecoming of you, Richard. However, since you are bonding with Phantom, I will let it slide."
And then Damian picked up the cat, tucked it into his chest, and walked back to where he came from.
When talking to Damian about the event later, he just looked at him like he was stupid. Tim said the cameras had shorted out (something that had been happening a lot recently), and he had no clue what Dick was talking about. Bruce and Alfred both advised him to seek mental help, believing him to be stress hallucinating. He didn't even bother telling the others.
So yeah, Dick doesn't like Damian's cat monster. He doesn't want to hurt his baby brother's feelings, but it can't stay.
Will be reblogging with more, eventually, other people's additions are VERY welcome
Watching them all die was evidence enough of that.
If he'd trained them properly, if he'd been there for them, then they wouldn't have died.
All of them came back, but that doesn't forgive that they died in the first place.
So when he came across a fumbling teen hero, with no mentors, who had come to Bruce's attention already dead, he feels that he's been granted a chance.
This kid, should he train him, isn't at risk of dying on Bruce. This kid, who really does need the help, is not a kid that Bruce would ever consider his kid; he has a ghostly home (a haunt) and a ghostly family (a fraid) that love him very much.
Bruce's only position in Phantom's life would be as a teacher.
He's been granted a chance to see if his emotional attachment to his sons (and daughter) is interfering with his ability to train them properly, or if he's just lacking in the knowledge of how to effectively train a teenager for combat.
With Phantom's living impaired situation, if it turns out it's just his teaching skills, then Phantom won't actually die.
Phantom doesn't come by Gotham often, but he manages to pop in just enough that Bruce hammers out a training schedule with him.
He doesn't mean to start ignoring Damian or Tim or Dick, it's just that Phantom needs so much more assistance. He knows basic combat, but not the kind of combat he'll need in the wider world of heroes vs villains.
Phantom needs more work in how to think tactically. Phantom needs more work in sticking to the training schedule, or to any schedule. Phantom needs help understanding high school classes he can't interact with due to being dead.
All in all, Phantom just needs more help.
That's all it is. That's it.
~~~~~~
Damian is...upset. He's upset.
He's pissed.
This random stranger, who isn't even one of his brothers, is taking all of Father's attention. Not even paternal attention, the other teen is stealing away all the time and effort required to ensure Damian's training doesn't slip for himself.
Timothy, too, is noticing the lack of attention to training, and has taken it upon himself to drop by more often to fill in for Father, sparring with Damian and going over training exercises.
Richard, as well, is not only noticing but very annoyed. He's pulling Father aside and has had many furiously whispered conversations with him, but to no avail.
Nights when Phantom is present Damian already knows Father will pair with the dead hero instead of him, leaving Damian to partner with one of his brothers.
Timothy and Richard insist that it's just some strange and outlandish ploy Father is playing, but Damian knows better.
It's because he isn't good enough.
It's because he failed to meet Father's expectations.
He will have to push himself, then, to exceed them.
He can start by going on patrol alone.
The fact that not only Jason, but all of the batkids willing marched through the portal right behind him has to be the biggest slap in the face that Batman could have ever gotten. 😏 Also, love a sweet mama Talia, and it’s so precious here. 🥰 Loved this take on it, and also, imagine the future consequences. Not only do you have the first wave of loss, but you also have the impact of now, as soon as someone becomes death touched, a green portal opens, beckoning them home. No more time to say your goodbyes, once they are touches by death, that’s it, it’s time to go. The population of the living dimentiln slowly dwindles as death takes them home sooner, and the world continues to mourn and grieve their loss.
July 22: Illustrious
The Justice League are well known for their heroic acts and overall saving the world. Them eradicating ectoplasmic beings (aka ghosts) was seen no different, as it was classified by many organizations and governments for ghosts to be a threat needing to be rid of. The general public also congratulated the JL for continuing to do what was the best for the world they live on, seeing ghosts as an intrusive species of sorts.
Now, how did the Justice League permanently get rid of ghosts? They captured the well-known leader of said ghosts, having multiple sources saying that it was the problem for the ghosts, or Danny Phantom. Then they interrogated the ghost, which are known to be malevolent and good actors/liars, and decided that the best course of action was to just make a deal for Phantom to take it's ghosts back where they belong and shut down the portal that Phantom admitted was allowing them in OR be forcefully done so to any extent including violence.
After all, ectoplasmic beings didn't belong in their universe and cause problems, even if their leader tried to contain them. There was plenty of evidence and science from funded government branches and organizations stating ghosts to be malicious and completely non-sentient. Why wouldn't the Justice League properly get rid of them and save the world once again?
continuation from a separate post thread (Danny is Bruce’s clone). Op said the old post got too long, so they made a new one. Had to share the new story. ☺️
The footprints lead Alfred out of the room and to the right but quickly dried up on the short hair carpet.
Alfred checked every room to the right of Danny's. He had to have left the family wing. 40 minutes of searching later, Alfred was about to go down yet another hallway when he heard faint music and metal clanging. He walked closer to the sound until he could make out some words.
🎶I- can hear the sound of violins🎶
🎶long before- it begins🎶
The gym. Someone is at the gym. He told Dick to relax. This is the opposite of relaxing. He stops for a moment outside the door to gather himself. People listen to empathy more than anger. When Alfred pushed the door open and looked down at the workout area, he didn't see a disobedient clown. No. Instead, he was forcibly dragged back to 1989, staring at a 13 year old Bruce doing chest presses. He always looked the most at ease when he was at the gym. The rest of the time, he would be looking for his parents' killer or discovering seacret organizations. Alfred used to cherish the time Bruce spent at the gym because he knew it was the closest he could get to calm. Shortly, Danny put down his 3 kg weights and addressed Alfred.
"Morning, Alfred. Breakfast already? Thought I had more time." He sounded like Bruce, more than just his voice. Danny had his own way of talking, but this was all Bruce.
"Young Master," best not to object to his perceived reality, whatever that may be. "It's almost seven in the afternoon, not morning." The sun would have spoiled that for him anyway. "And dinner will be ready in two hours."
"Oh, ok. I'll be there at nine then." Danny simply went over to the next station in his routine. Right as he sat down on the floor, something seemed to dawn on him. "Alfred? Did something happen to me?" He asked innocently.
Alfred remained frozen, staring at the young boy. "What would give you that idea?"
"I woke up in a different room than usual, I had to switch down all my weights, and the files in my father's office have been moved. And then you came in looking like you've seen a ghost." Ever the detective.
"Nothing gets past you. I'm afraid you had a rather bad fever and spent a few days in bed. I would like to examine your health, but it can wait. Let's say, eight-thirty? Before dinner?"
"Kitchen at eight-thirty, got it."
Alfred left the room and braced himself on the door. He thinks he's Bruce. He probably thinks it's the 80s or 90s, too. It's a good thing most everyone is out hunting down clues and/or committing extreme acts of violence.
Danny had changed into an all black suit (bowtie and kerchief included) before coming to the kitchen at 8:27. Hmm, he does like to be punctual. His temperature and heart rate were normal, for once he didn't have bags under his eyes, which responded in time to light. But, he was definitely younger than he was when he arrived. Dick wasn't imagining that.
"Can you tell me your name, age, and today's date?"
"Bruce Thomas Wayne, 12, almost 13, today is November, uh," He struggled a bit. "17th? Maybe a bit later, 1988." He avoided eye contact. "Just so we're clear, I wouldn't have known today's date even if I hadn't been sick."
Alfred smiled a little, remembering how much he used to care about getting good scores on everything. "I'll be sure to include that in the report." He retorted sarcastically, earning a small grin back. "Now go wash up, dinners almost ready."
As per routine, Alfred started by bringing out the helthiest dishes. They all knew it was a trick to get them to eat vegetables, but no one was ever willing to wait. Danny was so hungry, even the brussel sprouts were appetizing. Now if Alfred could just stop staring at him and actually put the container on the table.
"Alfred?"
"W, what?"
"Are you OK?"
Danny had combed his hair when he'd asked him to wash up. This was Bruce. This was the boy Alfred raised. The one who had fallen asleep in his arms every night for months because he refused to be alone in the dark. The one who used to "forget" to tell Alfred about the handfuls of peanut butter in his pockets, ruining thousand dollars dress pants on six different occasions. The one who wanted to keep street cats knowing full well he was allergic.
"Do you need a day off? Or maybe a week?"
"What? No. I'm alright master Bruce. Just, uhm, glad to see you have your appetite back. That's all." Keep it together now. He set down a steaming glass dish full of baked carrots, sweet potatoes, bell peppers, onions, brussel sprouts, broccoli, cauliflower, and mushrooms.
Danny took as big a serving as he could fit (vegetables can only go in the top right on his plate), making sure not to let the butter run too much. The next dish was steamed turnip. Crap. Another vegetable. Can't mix them. Can't put it somewhere else. The only option is to finish the baked vegetables fast.
By the time he finished his quarter of a turnip, six more dishes had already shown up. How many people does Alfred think live here?
At 21:11 Dick walked into the dining room. Dressed in a plain shirt and pants. The two boys looked like they were going to entirely different events.
"Hello." Danny invited. "I'm sorry, have we met?"
"This gentleman is detective Richard Grayson." Alfred interjected. "Master Dick, would you care to join us for dinner?"
"Oh, where are my manners? Here, have a seat. There's plenty of food."
The dinner after that was awkward, but nice. It's good to have some company once in a while. Ever since his parents died, it's just been him and Alfred.
He did wake up late in the afternoon, so it shouldn't be such a surprise that he got to stay up and watch his gray ghost VHS tapes way later than his usual bedtime. Only interrupted occasionally by Alfred, making sure he's keeping all that food down. He had to have been really sick. He doesn't even remember throwing up recently.
He must have dosed off at some point because he was awoken abruptly at some horrid hour of the night by an ear pierceing scream. He hurried to its sorce in the family wing where he saw what looked like another Bruce, except this one had white hair and wore a black onesie. He appeared to be melting into a glowing green sludge. Bruce knelt down and grabbed the boy, who stopped screaming. Opting to bury his face in Bruce's chest instead.
Alfred came just as the gruesome scene was over. 4:50 am, same place, same time, every night. Alfred had hoped something had improved when the screaming stopped early. But rather than the typical gorey mess, there was Danny, inconsolable and covered in slime.
"Wh, wh, ah?" Who was that? What was that?? Why was that???
"Master da- Bruce." At lightning speed, Alfred was on his knees and holding Danny. "Come on, you don't have to be here." He tried to lift him up, but Danny resisted.
"...Why do you have the carpet cleaner?" He accused. "Did you know this would happen?"
Ok, but now I absolutely need to read a fic where Diana adopts Danny and Billy. Like, just… it’s perfect. Both Danny and Billy know about the Greek mythos (Billy’s gods and for Danny I sight Pandora), and also, Diana’s just the right mix of chaotic but will still reign them in-
He's been denied entry into the Justice League yet again, but that's fine.
He's not angry.
Nope.
But like, he is feeling like getting a little bit of revenge. Not angry revenge, which would be totally different.
But...petty.
He wants petty revenge.
And he knows where the Watchtower is.
So he makes it his mission to sneak into the Watchtower, over and over and over again, and while completely invisible and intangible, eat the inside of all the heroes treats and meals, so that all they're left with is a hollowed out shell.
Cakes? Just a shell. Sandwiches? Difficult but he manages to hollow those out too. Ice Cream? Just the outside. Spaghetti? Almost impossible, but he manages to do a swap instead; it's spaghetti laying on top of old cardboard. Anything inside of a wrapper? He eats it and leaves the wrapper.
why does it remind me of a spider-
SO THIS GIF FROZE AND
Did you lose this?
Inspired by this post.
@emacrow
The way I cackled 🤣
Can I talk about Danny Fenton Kills the Joker ? I hope you said yes bc I'm going to.
Now, I like it for the bit. Anyone killing Joker for the bit is hilarious.
But for the serious ? Ouhgggg I love it.
Danny is surrounded by death, he IS dead. He's seen his family die ! He fights ghosts for a living(and a deading too) ! In some fics he's the KING of the dead !
Death is so normal to him, he forgets that most people see dying as the end all be all, the little thing that is total obliteration. To him, people die and then fall under his jurisdiction, or they reincarnate somewhere.
So when he kills this guy who is causing the living a whole lot of strife he thinks "cool. I'll just take him off your hands. You can have visitation rights once you come here too. Bye."
Meanwhile Batman has such conviction about sentencing anyone to the nothingness that death is supposed to be is like "what could this child have grown up around.... To take a life so easily... Was he raised like Damian... ? Oh no..."
Tim explaining Slime Rancher 2 to Damian: So if you feed a slime a different one’s plort you create a gordo.
Damian: And what is the point of this animal husbandry?
Tim: To creat cool new slimes. And get money by combining them.
Tim: Do you want to create a slime?
Damian: Give me that. I shall make the best “slime”.
Damian looking through the different types: Ah, I see. I shall make Father.
Tim: What?
Damian: Please acquire one of these “Batty” slimes as well as a Shadow slime.
Tim blinking: I don’t think-
Damian: Surely this is not beyond your capabilities?
Tim:
Later
Bruce: What are you two still doing up? I thought I said no casework today?
Tim: This isn’t casework, I’m making mods.
Bruce: Ah yes, “mine-craft” again?
Tim: Not quite-
Damian: Tim has informed me that the objective of the game is to selectively breed these creatures for their monetary benefits. However, it is also possible to create unique combinations. I pointed out the imperative of recreating superior models in reality within this farce and Tim has elected to correct the oversights of the developers to achieve our goal.
Bruce blinking: Um..?
Tim: Damian wants a mod to combine a bat slime and a shadow slime to make you in the game.
Bruce blinking back tears: Oh.