No Longer In Service

Okay

Okay

hear me out

Ghost King Danny Summoning!

The heroes fail to stop it, everyone is panicking, they feel like they’ve truly failed to stop it. etc etc

EVERYONE is ready to fight for their final life.

They’re as ready as they can be to go against something so evil JLD are scared of it.

SO when the dome that was sealing them away from the summoner finally shatters they are expecting some huge eldritch being, something made of pure nightmares... Only...

Only to find an old tape recorder in the middle of the summoning circle...

Everything is dead silent. No one moves...

Then it clicks on and makes a loud noise.

The noise?

It was the no longer in service beep.

“We’re, not, sorry.” a teenage voice began after the beep ended, startling everyone as they weren’t expecting this at all “But the Ghost King you are trying to reach is no longer in service or rather King anymore. Thus any big evil world ending plans you have made will not be approved during my reign. Please, get a life and try to actually live it because I will not be ending anyone's or mass genocide anything... Also to the really insane Fruitloop that tried summoning a being with the warning of "will cause the end of your world". I am the Ghost King now, eventually everything and everyone will enter my domain regardless of who, when, how, or why. That is something I can wait for, I got no reason to speed it up.... So have a pleasant day and enjoy being arrested or ended for doing this dumb summoning if you decided to do this in front of like everyone in your world or something... Goodbye!”

The world went silent after that.

That...

None of them were expecting that at all.

Crack prompt: Danny has declared war on the curses in Gotham. He is armed with a water balloon gun, but the balloons are full of medical-grade ectoplasm. He targets any location, ghost, or liminal being tainted by curses and/or corrupted ecto - absolutely drenching them before yeeting off again.

This includes the Bats. Danny is smart about it, though. He lived in Gotham for several months before acting, so he could get the lay of the land. He also waits for patrol to be finished before hitting the Bats - he doesn't want to interrupt their Quest to Better Gotham (or be labeled an invader to their haunt).

One night, Danny happens upon Batman patrolling alone and waits for him to finish cleaning up a crime scene before hitting they guy with a half-clip of balloons. Batman gives chase, like he always does, and Danny runs, like he always does. He knows by now that, for whatever reason, Crime Alley is off limits to Batman. The whole alley just gives off "no (other) bats allowed" vibes.

Red hood is just more territorial. Whatever.

At any rate, Danny is enjoying the chase, using just enough ghost powers to stay ahead of batman, almost-but-not-quite taunting him. Crime Alley isn't too far, so instead of turning invisible around a corner like he usually does, he makes his way to the Alley to see if the no-trasspassing rule is enough to stop Batman mid-chase. He leaps across rooftops and weaves through fire escapes, ecto-balloon-gun bouncing by its strap against his back, until finally he's at the border, slightly tapping into flight to make the jump across a slightly wider road into the alley proper.

He turns around immediately, spotting Batman skulking on the rooftop on the other side of the road, stopping the chase and suit half-covered in healing ectoplasm.

"Sanctuary!" Danny yells, pumping his fists in the air from getting caught up in the exciting rush of adrenaline, "I claim sanctuary!"

"Who the fuck is claiming sanctuary in my territory?" Red Hood booms from almost directly behind Danny. He would have yeeted out of his own skin from surprise if he hadn't spent years honing his ghost-fighting instincts. As it was, Danny instead whirled around and emptied the clip of balloons into Hood, purely out of reflex.

Hood stood there, drenched in ecto like his fellow Bat one rooftop over, glaring murder at Danny with glowing eyes. But his haunt betrayed Hood's true emotions.

Surprise, concern, impressed, you-little-brat.

Danny booked it to the fire escape and turned invisible the second he was out of sight.

Jazz is wandering Gotham with Danny after their parents visited the city for a convention but left them behind in the excitement of one of their ghost traps going off on the other side of the country.

The hotel they were staying at kicked them out not caring if they had a place to stay or not, only caring that the source of money had left.

Jazz couldn't show how scared she actually was, not when Danny was looking at her with complete faith that she could somehow fix this.

How he managed to keep that faith after a day of jumping at shadows like they held enemies and vending machine food for lunch was a mystery.

She's tired, she's stressed, and she needs an adult.

Like an actual adult and not her much loved but very scatterbrained parents, Vlad did not count either.

Nightwing: *falls from great heights into nearby dumpster* ...ow.

Jazz: ...You'll do.

Prompt 266

Back on my Danny & Ras frienemies/rivals/maybe-lovers-nobody-can-tell-their-signals-are-very-mixed train. 

See, Danny has gone through time a lot. Often. It comes with being Clockwork’s charge-son-thing and honestly he finds it fun. And several times he’s used this time travelling to get some training in. Enter Ras, stage left, also a teen at the time and also learning swordsmanship from the same person. 

And they… utterly despise each other. They would kill the other for an apple slice, if the other one would die! But also, only they can kill the other, as it is obviously their right! 

And well, they keep running into each other. It has been a hundred years, surely the other would die by now? But of course their rival would live through utter spite. Probably to spite them specifically. 

The amount of times they have ended up sparring- trying to kill each other or not- the moment they see the other is actually ridiculous. But time is also passing. And… Danny understands, not having another to talk about things people are forgetting, or have already forgotten. 

How they ended up actually talking without a murder attempt was a long story that included a demon, a dragon, a pair of fae, some bandits, and a lot of alcohol, but it happened. And then it happens again. And again, and now it’s just kind of normal to share a drink after their spars, talking about things that no longer exist, and things they miss. 

Sure Danny can go back in time again, but he knows better than to do it willy nilly. He’s matured, he’s been an adult for a hundred years now, he knows there’s consequences for messing with time, even with Clockwork’s blessings. 

The first time they got married was technically for an undercover assassination. Well, Ras was there to assassinate someone, Danny was there to grab an artifact that should Not be in the realm of the living. And they got divorced after, it was fine. 

They just, also got married again when they met a few years later, for another job. And… okay, so maybe they have gotten married over a dozen times now and only divorced like half of those times. Half of those were for the bit or while drunk! 

And even if technically they’re married or shared a bed, it’s not like they're exclusive! As Ras’ daughters’ existences attest to (adopted in one case or not). They don’t exactly have a label for their relationship, despite others asking for one or trying to put a name to it themselves. 

Now Danny knows Ras isn’t exactly a good dude, or at least on the side of ‘good’ as he’s a literal assassin. But he also knows that good? Bad? Rather relative. He had gotten labeled as a villain when he was just trying to help all that time ago after all, and really who was he to tell someone else how to live their life? 

Which brings him to now, where he’s run into his old frienemy-rival and his youngest daughter. Who has a braindead teenager and a small toddler. Which is fine, really- but also, Talia dear, why are you using a brain dead teenager to guard your three year old son? 

…

Okay, Talia dear, Ras (Derogatory), why are you using your brain dead son and grandson to guard your younger son and grandson? Do you not have the Pits, which you were soo proud about Ras? Yes, he will spar with you, but for Realms’ sake, heal, what’s his name? Ah yes, go heal Jason and he’ll actually stick around for a few years, deal? Good. 

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Dc x dp idea 55

When Dani leaves amity after being stabilized she starts running into hero’s.

She doesn’t think it’s odd. After all Danny is a hero. So she starts bugging them never staying around too long. She did want to be a hero on her own.

One day a battle happens. One that keeps taking out hero after hero. None of there attacks are hitting it. Just phasing through.

Obviously for plot convenience no member of the JLD are here.

Dani of course forces her way into the fray. Unlike the others her stuff actually hits it. Now they don’t do much but does stall the threat. Managing to freeze bits and pieces for short periods of time.

Dani has a moment of realization. The being has to be from the infinite realm. Mid-fight she calls Danny. The trio made her take a phone when she left.

Danny shows up in a portal. He just soups the ghost up. No issues no sweat. Danny then starts questioning her on how she is. What’s she’s been up to. Why she didn’t bother to take any ghost hunting equipment with her.

When he notices the other people. The hero’s who he didn’t know existed. Danny begins to realize that the world was nothing like Amity.

Modern au

They’re going on a coffee date☕️

There’s a line from American Gods I keep coming back to in relation to Yellowjackets, an observation made early on by Shadow in prison: “The kind of behavior that works in a specialized environment, such as prison, can fail to work and in fact become harmful when used outside such an environment.” I keep rotating it in my head in thinking about the six survivors, the roles they occupy in the wilderness, and the way the show depicts them as adults in society.

Because in the wilderness, as in prison, they’re trapped—they’re suffering, they’re traumatized, they’re terrified—but they’re also able to construct very specific boxes to live in. And, in a way, that might make it easier. Cut away the fat, narrow the story down to its base arc. You are no longer the complex young woman who weighs a moral compass before acting. You no longer have the luxury of asking questions. You are a survivor. You have only to get to the next day.

Shauna: the scribe. Lottie: the prophet. Van: the acolyte. Taissa: the skeptic. Misty: the knight. Natalie: the queen. Neat, orderly, the bricks of a new kind of society. And it works in the woods; we know this because these six survive. (Add Travis: the hunter, while you’re at it, because he does make it to adulthood).

But then they’re rescued. And it’s not just lost purpose and PTSD they’re dealing with now, but a loss of that intrinsic identity each built in the woods. How do you go home again? How do you rejoin a so-called civilized world, where all the violence is restricted to a soccer field, to an argument, to your own nightmares?

How does the scribe, the one who wrote it all out in black and white to make sense of the horrors, cope with a world that would actively reject her story? She locks that story away. But she can’t stop turning it over in her head. She can’t forget the details. They’re waiting around every corner. In the husband beside her in bed. In the child she can’t connect with across the table. In the best friend whose parents draw her in, make her the object of their grief, the friend who lives on in every corner of their hometown. She can’t forget, so she tries so hard to write a different kind of story instead, to fool everyone into seeing the soft maternal mask and not the butcher beneath, and she winds up with blood on her hands just the same.

How does the prophet come back from the religion a desperate group made of her, a group that took her tortured visions, her slipping mental health, and built a hungry need around the very things whittling her down? She builds over the bones. She creates a place out of all that well-intended damage, and she tells herself she’s helping, she’s saving them, she has to save them, because the world is greedy and needs a leader, needs a martyr, needs someone to stand up tall and reassure everyone at the end of the day that they know what’s best. The world, any world, needs someone who will take those blows so the innocent don’t have to. She’s haunted by everyone she didn’t save, by the godhood assigned to her out of misplaced damage, and when the darkness comes knocking again, there is nothing else to do but repeat old rhymes until there is blood on her hands just the same.

How does the acolyte return to a world that cares nothing for the faith of the desperate, the faith that did nothing to save most of her friends, that indeed pushed her to destroy? She runs from it. She dives into things that are safe to believe in, things that rescue lonely girls from rough home lives, things that show a young queer kid there’s still sunshine out there somewhere. She delves into fiction, makes a home inside old stories to which she already knows the endings, coaxes herself away from the belief that damned her and into a cinemascope safety net where the real stuff never has to get in. She teaches herself surface-level interests, she avoids anything she might believe in too deeply, and still she’s dragged back to the place where blood winds up on her hands just the same.

How does the skeptic make peace with the things she knows happened, the things that she did even without meaning to, without realizing? She buries them. She leans hard into a refusal to believe those skeletons could ever crawl back out of the graves she stuffed them into, because belief is in some ways the opposite of control. She doesn’t talk to her wife. She doesn’t talk to anyone. It’s not about what’s underneath the surface, because that’s just a mess, so instead she actively discounts the girl she became in the woods. She makes something new, something rational and orderly, someone who can’t fail. She polishes the picture to a shine, and she stands up straight, the model achievement. She goes about her original plan like it was always going to be that way, and she winds up with blood on her hands just the same.

How does the knight exist in a world with no one to serve, no one to protect, no reason propelling the devastating choices she had grown comfortable making? She rechannels it. She convinces herself she’s the smartest person in the room, the most capable, the most observant. She convinces herself other people’s mysteries are hers to solve, that she is helping in every single action she takes. She makes a career out of assisting the most fragile, the most helpless souls she can find, and she makes a hobby out of patrolling for crimes to solve, and when a chance comes to strap her armor back on and ride into battle, she rejoices in the return to normalcy. She craves that station as someone needed, someone to rely upon in the darkest of hours, and she winds up with blood on her hands because, in a way, she never left the wilderness at all.

How does the queen keep going without a queendom, without a pack, without people to lead past the horrors of tomorrow? She doesn’t. She simply does not know how. She scrounges for something, anything, that will make her feel connected to the world the way that team did. She moves in and out of a world that rejects trauma, punishes the traumatized, heckles the grieving as a spectacle. She finds comfort in the cohesive ritual of rehabilitation, this place where she gets so close to finding herself again, only to stumble when she opens her eyes and sees she’s alone. All those months feeding and guiding and gripping fast to the fight of making it to another day, and she no longer knows how to rest. How to let go without falling. She no longer wears a crown, and she never wanted it in the first place, so how on earth does she survive a world that doesn’t understand the guilt and shame of being made the centerpiece of a specialized environment you can never explain to anyone else? How, how, how do you survive without winding up with blood on your hands just the same?

All six of these girls found, for better or worse, a place in the woods. All six of them found, for better or worse, a reason to get up the next day. For each other. And then they go home, and even if they all stayed close, stayed friends, it’d still be like stepping out of chains for the first time in years. Where do you go? How do you make small choices when every decision for months was life or death? How do you keep the part of yourself stitched so innately into your survival in a world that would scream to see it? How do you do away with the survivor and still keep going?

They brought it back with them. Of course they did. It was the only way.

the anime adding that one question "what do you think of satoru gojo?" into the episode kenjaku and jogo call gojo "a monster" or "that thing" and then topping it off with this chapter of him expressing how he was just an existence to people, not even human and that even though in fostering those relationships, he believes that no one still understood his feelings? I'm so so sick

do you think katara can perform top surgery. like if toph, or anyone, was just like “im sick of these thangs” do you think she could do it.

Tubbo is the KING of /zero/ follow up questions.

Daughter has mentioned a new secret friend multiple times? Cool. Alright. No need to elaborate small child. Continue on.

i cannot believe that there are people who still get upset about ship loyalty in 2024. i’m just putting my little guys into situations can you chill

Would you have sex with yourself if you could?

Prompt 238

"Ugh. There's a group at the barrier again." Star squinted over the buildings they were all sprawled on almost lazily. "Seriously? I thought the GIW would have given up by now since there's 'no more humans' here," Sam's voice was sarcastic as she combed claws through her hair. The others grumbled in agreement, Valerie spreading her wings in a stretch. "Who wants to bet Danny is already about to crash their intrusion?" "Hah! I bet Dash is there already to video it!" "Those are both suckers bets," Wes scoffed, clear eyelid closing over his eyes and temporarily dimming the glow. "Let's be honest, Paulina has already left, she's going to get there first."

- - -

The GIW have been having a bit of trouble. Maybe just a bit. See, they were supposed to be taking care of the ecto-entities. Studying them, y'know? But er, some earlier agents had been a bit trigger happy, which meant the entities were well... aggressive. And a city full of dragon-fae-beings disliking any presence wearing white was rather terrifying, so they... might have gotten permission to bring a hero with them. For protection of course. ... Hopefully no one dies-

Feel free to ignore any of these pics lol, they're just ideas.

Order: Jazz, Danny, Tucker, Sam, Valerie, Wes, Dash, Kwan, Paulina, Star, Ellie, Dan

We ask your questions so you don’t have to! Submit your questions to have them posted anonymously as polls.

She's just a little different

She's a bit perticular

She's quirky

She's excitable

She's childish

She's kinda weird

She's really sensitive

She's a very anxious person

AUTISM

Its been autism this whole time, hasn't it?