Sharing For Future Reblogs

An absolute must share. I hope someone continues this 👀

"We should take Amity Park and put it somewhere else!" "...That is the dumbest smart idea I've ever heard."

The world is dying.

The GIW shot a nuke into the Ghost Zone, and now the world is paying for it.

Amity, however, is lasting the longest due to already being contaminated with Ecto.

Dash has an insanely dumb idea to save it.

Danny is just desperate enough to try it.

He manages to use a horrifying amalgamation of tech, time amulets, and magic bullshittery to actually move the city of Amity Park to a different dimension.

It, the entire city, has just crash landed (upright but crooked) a few miles down the road from Smallville.

Yeah, from what I know, Constantine is like, 70 or 80, but ages really well because of the demon blood. I’m currently just picturing Batman just squinting at him suspiciously after that statement. 😂

I made another post about Danny and about how the justice league believes that something exists in the ghost zone then that makes it exist, but I had an idea since then.

So as a joke, John and Danny claim to be related. (Jazz, Dan, and Dani get in on it too.)

Batman: ...you have a family.

John: what? You think you're the only one with kids?

Batman: that *points at Dan* is a grown ass man.

Dan: hey dad, Jazz wants to know if you'll pick up some milk from the store, she says we're out.

John: sure, she want anything else?

Dan: nah but Dani wants you to grab some pizza while you're there.

Batman:....

And at some point, they start coming to him with their problems.

Dan needs a place to stay? Johns couch is free.

Danny needs help with schoolwork? John might not know what the answer is, but he'll try and help.

Jazz needs someone to rant to? She'll call John.

Dani needs help dismantling a cult? John will be right there in an hour.

They don't acknowledge it outloud, but if they have a problem John is the first person they think of to call for help.

The ghost zone and it's inhabitants also accept John as the ghost kids parent, like if they say it's true then it must be true.

Then they start changing just a bit.

Their hair gets lighter (closer to blonde) their eyes change by a couple shades, and unknown to them, their DNA changes.

And they don't really notice it...

Until they start developing magic.

And Jazz nearly kills someone with that magic when her breakfast attacks her.

How dare you hide this in the tags-

The weirdly competent Doctor

So! The Watchtower's Medical Bay is a hub of constant Activity. With the number of Heroes who work under the Justice League, there are always injuries, health check-Ups, and illnesses that need healing.

But with the amount of Variant Biologies that those Heroes have, it's always a guessing game as to how to help them best. Some Metahumans react positively to penicillin, but others react like it's their Kryptonite. Some Aliens have anatomy similar to Humans, others are so different you can't tell the Stomach from the Bladder.

So when they hired a New Doctor for the Medical Bay, they had to run him through an entire Course on Variant Biologies and how best to treat specific Heroes. It was long and difficult to remember fully, but it was necessary for him to know.

But then the new Doctor started correcting Them.

"Actually, Martian's react better to the Syrup of Eucalyptus Plants better than Penicillin, since Eucalyptus is very similar to a medicinal plant from Mars which they used in many of their antibiotics."

"I don't think just pumping double doses of sedative is the best way to calm down a Speedster, that could have adverse effects on their body. Perhaps try Psychic Intervention? Their minds move a Mile a Second, but if you can calm them down their bodies will follow suit."

"Of course you use Micro-Doses of Kryptonite to operate on Superman! What else would you do?! I don't know, maybe ask JLD to enchant your Equipment to make use of Kryptonian suseptiblity to Magic? The Kryptonite is just gonna give him Cancer!"

Of course the Doctors didn't take kindly to being rudely corrected by a newbie, and Fired him on his first day.

Then a few days later their usual Treatments don't work, and they decide to give those strategies the Quack Doctor gave them out of desperation.

And Lo and Behold, they work! Martian Manhunter is fully healed and feels much better than the previous times he has needed surgery. Apparently they used a different Antibiotic that worked better with his Biology. Which was incredible, how had they figured it out?

Another Doctor you say? One who was experienced on Martian Biology and Medicinal History? He would very much like to meet with the man!

...

What do you mean you fired him for talking back?!

My first time running across a totcf post, and holy heck, is this one such a doozy. I love it, the angst the drama, the fact that even when he does tell people the truth, it’s too late to undo his newly acquired sainthood- just, chef’s kiss.

Rok Soo's ability isn't Instant AU

Instead of being able to, very briefly and painfully, fuck with time; he got an ability based on all the absolute bullshit that's happened to him.

From the childhood, to his friends dying in front of him. All the shitty rumors that sprouted up, all the shit luck, all of it. Just, all of it.

So instead of Instant, he got Lament.

Lament is a scream capable of leveling buildings, at the cost of absolutely shredding Rok Soo's throat.

As a result of that power, Rok Soo doesn't talk often, and when he does his voice is hoarse and pained. He also refuses to speak at full volume, because while he's got a handle on his power, he's paranoid that he'll slip up.

So when he transfers over to the body of Cale, people notice.

The Young Master went to bed his usual talkative self, but when he woke up?

Barely a word, and when he did speak, a whisper.

Cale barely speaks a word to Ron beyond the single syllable required. Barely bothers to acknowledge Deruth. Relies on hand-speak and notes to talk to merchants.

Deruth is going crazy trying to figure out what the hell happened to his son, Ron is very close behind him because what the hell got past him? He's Ron Fucking Molan.

Then Cale comes home with a bedraggled punk that smells like the trash the killed Ron's family, and Ron has to listen in astonishment as he says more to this jackass than he's said to Ron in a week.

Basically; Cale's power of Lament is so strong and painful that everything Cale is paranoid of letting it slip, that he's selectively mute. This causes many misunderstandings, in true Cale fashion.

Help, this is way funnier than it should be-

While trying to figure out how the ghost transformation works, for half-ghosts...

Hey, probably the "sparkle" from where the luminous circles come is where the core of a ghost is situated! Halfa's powers come from there!

*checking the first transformation scene from Vlad*

The core is stored in... the core is... ??? Okay, nice. Good to know.

The fic is here! ✨

Rok Soo's ability isn't Instant AU

Instead of being able to, very briefly and painfully, fuck with time; he got an ability based on all the absolute bullshit that's happened to him.

From the childhood, to his friends dying in front of him. All the shitty rumors that sprouted up, all the shit luck, all of it. Just, all of it.

So instead of Instant, he got Lament.

Lament is a scream capable of leveling buildings, at the cost of absolutely shredding Rok Soo's throat.

As a result of that power, Rok Soo doesn't talk often, and when he does his voice is hoarse and pained. He also refuses to speak at full volume, because while he's got a handle on his power, he's paranoid that he'll slip up.

So when he transfers over to the body of Cale, people notice.

The Young Master went to bed his usual talkative self, but when he woke up?

Barely a word, and when he did speak, a whisper.

Cale barely speaks a word to Ron beyond the single syllable required. Barely bothers to acknowledge Deruth. Relies on hand-speak and notes to talk to merchants.

Deruth is going crazy trying to figure out what the hell happened to his son, Ron is very close behind him because what the hell got past him? He's Ron Fucking Molan.

Then Cale comes home with a bedraggled punk that smells like the trash the killed Ron's family, and Ron has to listen in astonishment as he says more to this jackass than he's said to Ron in a week.

Basically; Cale's power of Lament is so strong and painful that everything Cale is paranoid of letting it slip, that he's selectively mute. This causes many misunderstandings, in true Cale fashion.

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? 😂

Danny makes creative use of his intangibility. At, of course, the inconvenience of everyone else.

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.

Lets be fair, most of those came from Vlad’s mansion-

https://youtu.be/v7nqFdpZBx4?si=3J29kJyHFBSMh-04

AMAZING YOU FOUND IT

Context

Excuse me Op, what’s that supposed to mean? 😟 Why is it in quotes? Also, there’s more than one ending? 😥

Clone Danny long post

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?"

itty bitty danger noodles