“But If You Forget To Reblog Madame Zeroni, You And Your Family Will Be Cursed For Always And Eternity.”

Ok, now hear me out here.

Giant plant lady Sam.

Now, if we go with that hc (iirc it is one) where ghosts like Undergrowth, Vortex, Nocturn etc are like gods or something.

Then we could say that Sam died, either by old age, sickness, or injuries either or, and Undergrowth decided to take her soul and turn it into something more.

As such, her soul becomes saturated with the magic of a god, such that she herself, becomes a god, well more of a lesser deity but meh.

Then he drops her off in the DC universe on a rather secluded island, giving her a few pointers to turn this entire island into her place of power and domain. There isn't a set time limit really, however long she needs to take to condense and control her powers is however long she'll take, so long as the entirely of this island becomes her domain.

Which it does, and overtime whatever people that live on the island come to regard her as a goddess and in response, start to worship her as one as well.

Why did Undergrowth drop her into DC on a secluded island? To keep her away from Danny until she properly cemented her power, of course. Can't do that if you get distracted by a figure from your past life.

Sam was just going about her (new) life, making the forest flourish, helping the crops grow in answer to her followers prayer, you know. The normal things a nature deity like herself is supposed to do.

Then one man suddenly dropped himself on her island, and she could practically feel the power coming from him, of many different gods at that, even from in her place in the center of the island.

So of course, she asked her followers to try and bring said man to her, and be careful when doing it.

When one Shazam was spending his time just flying around the world, he expected a lot of things. But one of them was not meeting a giant plant goddess lady on a secluded island.

Return of the Pharaoh

Vandal Savage had a problem. He felt a magic oath of fealty he took long ago, to one of the few people he was ever truly loyal to. When he was "younger" he swore a magical oath of loyalty to one of the most powerful God-kings of Egypt, Pharaoh Duul-aman. He attempts to Scry the location of his ancient Pharaoh, but his attempts are blocked by the powers of Anubis, the powers of the dead.

Tucker jolted awake, he had fallen asleep at his computer again. Recently he had been suffer more sleep problems than Danny, Instead of dreaming of his lovely ladies he had been dreaming of egyptian sands and a hairy man he feels he should know. He felt the tingling of magic under his skin. Nope none of that, he's had power twice and both times he nearly killed his best friend and once he enslaved his class. Hes learned his lesson that he cannot handle power.

sibling grocery shopping adventure

#21

I saw a few posts that regard belief from others empowering ghosts like how it works with other fantasy creatures (mainly gods) so I formulated this just because.

Clockwork is... For a lack of better term, sick. (was thinking that the Flashes doing time travel stuff makes the poor guy get sick like that)

Its like if that one grandfather clock that came with the old house you just moved into is finally breaking down the moment you least expected it.

Anyways, Danny is a good mentee/grandson. And the only solution that he can really use is...

You guessed it, make a Clockwork™ based religion in the human world so that this empowers and therefore heals clockwork up.

Danny is very into this religion thing to the point it borderline looks like a cult that is somehow very quickly growing.

Tim, officially, does not have a new caretaker.

Tim, unofficially, does have a new caretaker.

A large, large man with long flaming purple hair that was capable of touching the floor if it didn't move like fire with sharp glowing green eyes and a neutral, if a bit of a resting bitch face, expression on his face.

Comparatively, he was not dressed oddly. Nothing but a white compression shirt, grey sweatpants and a pair of black sandals. The only thing odd about it was the sword constantly strapped to his waist, though Tim ignored it when he saw the man using it to chop ingredients.

Fright, he called himself, and Tim never asked if it was his actual name or not. He was just glad someone came over as constantly as he does.

He doesn't know where the man goes at night, after making sure he's tucked into bed and asleep, but he never pried. Mostly because he wasn't supposed to know that, and he doesn't want Fright to catch onto the fact that he was constantly sneaking out at night either.

So they'll both keep their secrets.

===

Fright Knight was at a loss with himself.

His master, Pariah Dark, had been once again released from the Sarcophagus of Forever Sleep and he wasted no time to return to his side. Even with his previous betrayl.

The events that followed were unexpected.

His master did not continue his eons long war with life. Though it had long since turned silent with his imprisonment, it was still brewing under the current of 'peace' that the Ghost Zone fell into.

Fright Knight knew that well.

So, what exactly was he supposed to do when his master returned to his time as naught but a humble farmer and started to rebuild the bridge he had long burnt with the Master of Time?

He felt... conflicted.

Of course, reconnecting with the Ghost of Time was a good thing, and he has been subject to witness just how much passion they had for each other during days long past.

But his master picking up a life that was not one honed through blood was always an odd thing for him to experience. Two peas in a pod, as some would say they were.

War and Fear.

Where War went, Fear followed. Rivers of flowing blood with storms of fear promised was something too tempting for him to resist.

Fear was a sword, and he was War's blade.

So it was not something easy for him to adjust to when War settled down into peace and sought prosperity instead of his namesake. Of course, he, as always, adjusted regardless of the situation and followed his master in his newest endeavor.

It was much harder to preserve a life, than it was to end it. They both came to realize. On his master's part, farming was something he pondered over and donned for a brief time eons ago, the new methods of today clashing wildly with what little he knew of the activity before War sung to him again. For Fright Knight, he had not a single nail's worth of experience in the act, never having had an interest like War did and as such, never learned.

It felt rather odd to use his blade to cut gifts from the land, but if he replaced them with images of enemies long since snuffed, it wasn't exactly hard.

He could not stay there for long; however, it was just too... different, from what he was used to. The Ghost King knew this and told him he was free to be left to his own devices so long as it did not affect the rules the Master of Time had set for them.

Or rather, War. But as Fear was in his service, he was not exactly exempt from said constraints, either.

So he wandered, keeping to his 'human' persona he was told to set for himself here. He was thankful that these beings called Meta's existed as no one gave him more than a second glance.

Though if that was more something to do with his height he did not know.

He came upon a city, one of shadows and filled with curses in numbers that even made him pause in slight bafflement. Lady Gotham, the city's spirit, brushed against him as soon as he stepped foot within her haunt, and it did not take long for them to reach and accord.

Fear was allowed to stay, so long as he did not do anything she did not permit. He was fine with said rules, after all, what was another constraint compared to those set by Time itself?

He had a favorable view of this city, just the ambient fear alone made it worth stepping inside. It was better than War's attempt at peace, though it was nothing due to the being itself he was just... used to being surrounded by fear.

Then he met a human child by the name of Timothy Drake. A meeting by chance and nothing else, but he did need something to do by Lady Gotham's suggestion.

So he became the boy's 'caretaker' though if he were a good one was something he could not comment on.

He did not need sleep, his new ward did, so when night fell, he always stepped out of the city to go back to his master and reappeared the next morning.

The thing about his new master's attempt at peace, was that he was quite willing to give away the gifts he received from the land. Which was helpful, considering he had no idea how to acquire money in this new age.

# Dcu x Dp 177

Danny is having mix feelings his parents believed that his powers were the cause of ecto contaminated and was making him sick and slow killing.

While the bat's and birds think that he is also sick they belived that the powers he has have made him think he is dead and have given him something called walking corpse syndrome

The batfam believes that Danny is a meta with Cotard's syndrome and are trying to convince him that he is not dead. While also making sure that he does not die for real because of starvation or injury/infection.

Cotard's syndrome ( aslo called walking corpse) a rare mental disorder in which the affected person holds the believe that parts of their body are missing, or that they are dying, dead, or don't exist

Tim wakes up in a hotel room in Vegas snuggled against a chest but he wasn't surprised.

He had been in the Sin City for a WE meeting and had brought Bernard along the trip since Tim's birthday was just shy a few days into it and well he wanted to spend time with his boyfriend since most of his family were off world (Dick, Jason, and Bruce all had important missions and they all apologized for missing out and Tim couldn't blame them he understood and he himself couldn't get out of the Vegas meetings no matter what he tried to do.) Or couldn't come to join him (Damian had school as did Duke and Alfred was taking care of them while the others were gone. Steph and Cass were out of country working with some important things with Babs and again he understood.) (Did it still sting yes but they all promised to make it up when they got back, Alfred even promised a coffee cake just for him)

So yeah, Vegas meeting trip turned somewhat birthday fun with his boyfriend. And since Bernard has always been good with encouraging Tim to try things it came to no surprise that during their stay he had managed to convince Tim to try drinking for the night.

Yes terrible influence Bernard was sometimes, but he did make a point. Tim was an adult now and sometimes it's okay to at least try adult dumb stuff, he didn't have to like it and could stop if he really didnt want to but he can at least say he tried it once. That it was okay for Tim to let go of his vigilante brain and just have fun in the one city that was made for it.

So try Tim did. Just for the night.

So yeah, Tim wasn't really surprised when he woke up the next morning, alcohol aftertaste on his breath, head pounding, nose scrunched up from the light of the sun peeking in from the curtains, and snuggling himself into a rather chilly chest...

Wait...

Chilly?

Tim opened his eyes when he realized that. Bernard never felt cold to Tim when they would snuggle, no he was always warm, like a warm heating blanket. It was why Tim loved snuggling him. Why was he-

Tim's eyes widened when he saw not blonde hair on the body in the bed with him but black hair. He almost flung himself off the bed from him startling awake and watched the one he had been snuggled next to mumble in his sleep and turn over.

Tim felt pure dread as he continued to stare, his stomach turning as his thoughts got bad, oh god..God... did he... oh no, no, no no. Oh where was Bernard- FUCK did he really-

Tim flinched when he heard a door open and snapped his eyes towards it. He felt his mouth go dry when he spotted his boyfriend coming out of what was the bathroom of the room and had just finished taking a shower from the sounds of left over dripping water and from the towel he was using to clean his hair.

Benard stopped in his spot when he noticed Tim staring at him before he gave Tim a very uneasy chuckle, his eyes darting towards the sleeping body on the bed "H-Hey, good morning T. I see you... uhh seen our guest."

Tim felt ready to cry, to beg for forgiveness, but the only sound that came out was a strangled sound because of course he fucked up and ruined one of the best things that ever happened to him and-

But before he could spiral further into his anxiety and dread Benard kept speaking.

"So ummm. Do you also remember meeting Danny at the bar, getting really tipsy, hanging out, having fun and then like going to a ghost bar with him so he could really drunk because he's like half ghost. And I mean like a legit ghost bar, like we saw Elvis and Marilyn Monroe there and they were like floating. Then we all got like super mega drunk and then... maybe kinda sorta got ghost married... because ghost marriage allows unlimited spouses cause you know, already dead doesn't matter and it's also almost permanent cause again the whole dead thing... Or did I hallucinate all that last night and we just brought in a random stranger to bed?" He asked his voice unsure as he looked between Tim and the stranger Danny in bed before lifting his hand up and showing Tim a glowing ring on it. "I'm pretty sure I didn't dream it up because I kinda woke up with this, and it refuses to come off."

Tim went silent for a moment, wide eyed as he stared back at Bernard before the pounding headache he had hit him harder than ever when the very memories of everything Bernard had said came flooding back to him. With a gasp Tim quickly looked st his own hand and sure enough on his finger was a matching glowing wedding band on it, his eyes snapped towards Danny... Danny Nightingale? Or was it Phantom? said his name was and spotted another matching one as well.

"B is going to kill us." Was the only thing Tim could muster up to say.

The Infinite Realms, or the In-Between, is a bit of an odd place in terms of afterlives. Specifically that it's the space between the world of the Living and any of the worlds of the Dead, and as such it's denizens belong to neither.

They have their own culture, their own magic, their own rules, and their own language.

But that's fine.

For you see, Constantine has learned Ghostspeak. This means he can communicate with Ghosts from the Infinite Realms.

He reassures Zatanna and Captain Marvel as such.

Then he turns to speak with Phantom, protector Ghost of Amity Park, and ask him for his help in fighting off the latest bad guy.

Except when he starts talking, the Ghost turns a deep green and sinks into the ground.

Constantine turns to look at his companions, but Captain Marvel has his hands over his ears and is a bright, bright red.

....

What. What just went wrong?

DP x DC Writing Prompt #8

The day Bruce Wayne knocks on her apartment door Sam knows it's going to be a doozy.

"Mr. Wayne, I really do hope no one saw you," she says, ushering him in. "And for the record, a text ahead of time would be appreciated."

"I parked the car a few streets away," Bruce says, sticking a finger in his heel to peel his polished leather shoes off. Sam raises an eyebrow. "It's a sedan, not a Lamborghini."

"You own a sedan?"

"Taught Dick to drive in it...after he crashed the Lamborghini."

Sam snorts despite herself. The charm Bruce Wayne exhibits would usually rub her the wrong way, too reminiscent of wealthy men that feel comfortable placing a hand on the small of your back at a crowded gala, but Bruce is honest enough about his playacting that she has come to find its insincerity comforting. She's actually sought him out more than once, leading to several annoying headlines that can't seem to decide if she's aiming to date him or one of his eligible sons. None of whom are eligible by the way, as they are a) taken, b) legally dead, c) practically a minor, and d) an actual minor.

Sam's generational wealth is peanuts compared to Wayne Industries, so naturally her parents have been thrilled and rooting for option c.

"I also didn't want Danny to see I'd texted you. Or force you to lie to him."

Sam doesn't quite tense, but it's a near thing. She does slide to the other side of her kitchen island, under the context of finishing prepping her feta fried eggs, laid on a bed of smashed avocado and warm tortilla. She pulls a bottle of crunchy garlic oil out of the fridge and drizzles hot red crisps across the runny yolk. She takes a bite, chewing thoughtfully, not so much as offering him a glass of water.

"You realize, Mr. Wayne, I have no intention of lying to Danny now?"

Bruce sits at the stool on the opposite side of the island. "I understand. And if you want to ask Danny to return home before we continue, I'd understand that as well. I didn't mean to discomfit you--"

"Please do not lie to me now, Mr. Wayne," Sam says, rolling her eyes. "By your own admission you showed up at noon without warning knowing my superhero boyfriend wouldn't be present. If I am discomfited, all the more likely you get your information, right?" Golden yolk runs down her fingers, and she sacrifices it to the napkin rather than lick up her arm in front of her boss, with no small amount of resentment. The yolk is the best part.

"Get to it then," she demands.

Bruce straightens in his stool, chin raising and firming in a jawline she most often sees under a cowl. His eyes attempt to pin her in place, but Sam has stared the Master of Time in the face and demand he reschedule so she is built. different. She takes another bite of egg taco.

"I was not aiming for you to feel threatened, and moreover, I doubt you could be."

Except a smart person should always feel threatened by a threat, no matter their capability of handling one. It keeps them alive.

"Can you tell me how I'm not like all the other girls after lunch? You'll spoil my appetite."

Bruce clears his throat. "I'll get to the point--"

"Thank you."

"--Danny has been exhibiting paranormal behaviors beyond his baseline. We welcome all biologies; human, alien, and paranormal alike, but I have observed actions unlike what he had previously established as his, for lack of a better word, 'normal'

"I want to make sure he is not experiencing any unwelcome outside influence. Or, if this is merely a facet of his evolution, I'd like to know if this is something we or his family should be monitoring."

Sam has been an eco-consultant with Wayne Industries and unofficially, the Batfamily, for half a year now and this is the most she's ever heard the man speak in one sitting.

"Wow," she says. "How long have you been rehearsing that one?"

"A while." Bruce grunts, voice finally taking that final drop into Batman's gravelly rasp. "I see you're not surprised by any of this."

"No, not really," Sam says. She pours him a tall glass of lemon water from the pitcher, freshly sliced that morning, and he takes a polite sip.

"So what can you tell me?"

"Probably a lot. And Danny would probably prefer that I do, knowing him, the big baby," Sam sighs. "Listen Mr. Wayne, I can appreciate that you came here from a place of caution rather than intrusion. And if Danny was undergoing something negative or from an 'unwelcome outside influence' that would be the right call, and I, albeit begrudgingly, encourage you to do so in the future."

"But he's not."

"He's not," Sam confirms. "And in fact, I think he could really use someone to talk to about it. Outside of his family."

"I see..." Bruce says, shifting.

"If you want to tag team this one with one of the higher EQ players, such as Superman, I give you permission." Sam does not think she's imagining that slight sag of relief.

"Thank you," Bruce says, sliding off the stool. "I don't suppose you have material we could consult...?"

"Actually yes, I happen to have a pamphlet right here. 'So your ghostly body is changing, and how.'"

"You're being more sarcastic than usual."

"You interrupted my lunch, Mr. Wayne."

De-aged Danny sitting at the Wayne Manor dinner table struggling with his meal:

Batfam: you good there bud? :3

Danny, muttering under his breath: why are my hands so small?