#grim dp

[shadowedcipher]

Habits {Darkened Paths Cat OC Map} .:Part 2:.

Whats going on in this part? 

Trash and Grim are running and having a fun youthful time together but BAM RELATIONSHIP PTSD. Stay tuned for the series about these two...three.!

YOUTUBE UPLOAD - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sQMk3mmxQ0k

[solhunder]

Putting the O.O in spOOky

(based on this artwork!)

[antleredweirdo]

Ok so you know how there are a bunch of ‘summoning Ghost King’ AUs? And how in both the DC universe and the DP universe (from what I’m aware of) the wall separating the spirit realm and the living realm is weakened during Halloween?

What if a group (cultists, justice league, teen titans, anyone) summon the Ghost King (otherwise known as the Balancer Of Two Worlds) and Danny shows up in his Halloween costume. More specifically, he gets summoned while dressed up as the Grim Reaper.

And thus, because Danny is awkward as all hell sometimes and just says shit, the summoners end up thinking Danny is the actual Grim Reaper.

Chaos ensues

[zeestarfishalien]

Church Grim!Danny and/or Danny The Black Dog

Picture this!

Danny gets buried (alive) in a coffin in a cemetery in Gotham by the Fentons. There’s enough ectoplasm to sustain him but he can’t get free of the coffin. Eventually he builds enough power to manifest a shadow of a spectral form as The Black Dog, a Church Grim. The shadowy omen of death tasked to guard the graves and souls of those resting there.

But wait! There’s more!

During this time someone claws their way from their grave, one Jason Todd a body without a complete soul. Danny tries to follow Jason, to protect, to guard, but he can’t leave the cemetery.

Fast forward to Jason’s return to Gotham. For as unsettling as being near his grave can be, Jason always feels safe in the cemetery. That feeling never staying with him past the gates and sometimes… Sometimes he sees a shadowy figure of a dog with eyes brighter green than the Lazarus pits.

The dog seems to be trying to lead him somewhere that isn’t Jason’s grave. It takes so long, too long for Jason to follow the Grim to an unmarked grave. And longer still for Jason to get up the nerve to dig up the grave and find the comatose boy within.

Danny doesn’t know how to go back to his body, he’s been apart so long. He’s been The Black Dog for so long.

Chapters 1-3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Now with AO3 Fic

[kradeiz]

With all the DPxDC crossovers here I'm surprised I haven't seen anyone take a stab at giving Danny the Absolute treatment. That is, reimagining his story with one crucial element removed.

My pitch: Danny without the ghost zone.

In this universe, there is no separate dimension that only ghosts inhabit. They're all in our world but can't be seen by people most of the time.

Jack and Maddie still built the portal, believing in a ghost zone, but all it did was collect ambient ghost energy and release it onto Danny. After that it just went inert.

Not only is this a big change in how the DP universe works but it would give another challenge to Danny. He can't simply catch ghosts and release them into the Ghost Zone. Instead he's left with three options.

Help resolve the ghost's issues, letting them find peace and/or move on.

Destroy them.

Trap them in the thermos and leave them there until 1 or 2 are possible.

Being forced to keep ghosts imprisoned indefinitely or flat-out destroy them would take its toll on Danny, and depending on what his support system is like in this universe, could make things even worse for him.

(Irt support personally I like some variation of this.)

[itshype]

Work Experience (DC x DP)

Before he can take his place as King, Danny has to familarise himself with his peoples' cultures. Most ghosts are made knowing all sorts of things about ghost law (for example the Christmas Truce), ghost etiquette and ghost history. Danny got none of that because he's not technically dead.

He spends a year working on maintenance for the Ghost Colosseum in Pandora's Haunt. She offered for him to do exhibition matches as a gladiator but he knew all he needed to about fighting already, he really wanted to learn something in his time here. He didn't know it but that had constituted the passing of Pandora's little test.

He spends a few months working as an Orderly for the Far Frozen as it would take far to long to learn enough to substantially contribute to healing even a single blob ghost.

He spends one week with Undergrowth and Nocturne examining the forces that governed the natural world. Unfortunately, Danny was physically incapable of seeing 'the threads connecting all things across all dimensions' and they kicked him out. Undergrowth filed an official petition to take Sam as his apprentice after her death. Danny said he would consider it and put it aside to show her next time he was 'topside'.

He was slated to spend the greatest amount of time as a Grim Reaper. Unlike humans thought, the dead could get to where they needed to be without any difficulty. It was the not-quite-dead who needed more help. Help to decide if it was worth going back, help to cross the final line if that was what they really needed, help coming back again and again for metas and aliens with preternatural healing.

Once Danny figured out there was a whole species of Ghost who should have helped him through the portal incident, he'd reached out to CW demanding answers as to why he'd had to muddle through on his own. The god of time was ironically, ghosting him, though.

Funnily enough, the Grims are thrilled he's there. As never-alive ghost beings, they often struggle with the best way to complete their work - they've never felt the pressures of being alive or confronted the fear of death or had to assimilate the truth of the afterlife into their worldview. So they basically immediately give Danny all their hardest jobs.

People who really, really should be moving on, their time is up but they just won't let go? People who are ready to depart but their body won't let their soul depart? That one asshole who's soul is cursed to be immortal? Those are Danny's cases. He handles it with as much humour and compassion as he can.

In an unrelated matter, several months into Danny's newest jobs, at a Justice League casual event, several heroes get to talking. Turns out several of them have had near-death experiences recently and they all shared the same hallucination as they went towards the light. Time to investigate.

[aikoiya]

DPxDC - Grimm Romance

Why did it only just cross my mind the amazingness of Anger Management in which Jazz is a Tol Werewolf??

It's Little Red Riding Hood & the Big Bad Wolf!!

I'm such an idiot!

I can practically hear Jason commenting on how tall she is only for Danny's influence to peek through with "All the better to tease you with."

There's a beat of silence as they both process her words. At the same time, Jazz apologizes profusely while Jason demands to the universe how he freaking missed that??

She snorts as he bemoans that he can't bring her to dinner with the family now because they'd ALL find out & NONE OF THEM would let him live it down!

Dickwing & Replacement especially!!

Though, now that I think about it... Suddenly, most of my DP ships now have a distinct His & Hers Halloween Costume theme to them.

Werewolf Jazz x Jason (Big Bad Wolf & Red Riding Hood)

Danny x Sam (Hades x Persephone)

Tucker x Valerie (Pharaoh x Amazon)

It practically writes itself!

DP Character HCs Masterlist

[nelkcats]

Grim Reaper

The moment he gained consciousness as he emerged from the Lazarus pits, Jason noticed a curious thing: A shadow was always following him, waving with happiness, even though it was rather threatening in his opinion.

At first, the shadow looked harmless, greeting him and hiding most of the time, almost like they were friends. But when Jason returned to the streets of Gotham and killed the first person he considered "bad" as Red Hood, his "friend" came out of the shadows and revealed his identity: Death.

Jason was sure it was Death, with the scythe in his hands, his black hood up and his green eyes judging him completely serious (he even saw him collect the soul of who he had killed!). At that moment he knew that he had made a mistake and began to escape from it. He wasn't going to die a second time, and death was not going to catch him. This of course, started some kind of supernatural persecution in Gotham.

But contrary to what Jason thought, the Grim Reaper wasn't trying to kill him. Danny was actually trying to prevent Jason from becoming a Grim Reaper like him, this being one of the worst punishments in his opinion.

Many years ago, the Observants punished him probably in an attempt to prevent his fate as Dark Dan after the death of his family. For what reason was this punishment assigned to him? Killing everyone associated with the G.I.W. Danny considered what he did fair, they had attacked and he had responded.

In his opinion they deserved no mercy, not after what they did to his family and friends, not after what they did to Amity.

But his thirst for blood and revenge only got him so far. After leaving that bloodbath behind, the ghosts told him that the Observants were waiting for him in the Realms; When he arrived they gave him a punishment for his actions by assigning him as a "Grim Reaper" supposedly to "teach him the value of life" he still thought it was absurd, it's not like they knew it themselves.

But when he saw his own mentor looking at him sadly he accepted. He was immortal, it's not like he had much to do. But the duty of a Grim Reaper was arduous, exhausting and sad, Danny didn't want anyone else to go through it. That's why when he heard that another immortal could be punished just like him, he rushed to meet him and try to avoid it.

But he had spent so much time alone that he didn't know how to approach, he had forgotten his humanity and only knew Esperanto! How was he going to keep Jason from getting lost in the path of blood and vengeance if he couldn't talk to him? He even tried to smile but the guy looked terrified!

Other than that, Jason kept running away every time he saw him, was it impossible to stop him from turning into a Grim Reaper like him!?

[catpriciousmarjara]

DP X DC

Ao3

The Job Offer

"And why not you?", said the man. "You're intelligent, skilled, and adaptable. Most importantly, you're entertaining. That last part becomes very important when dealing with my kind".

A ring glinted in the dim light as he gestured with his hands. "Plus, there wouldn't be any danger in the first place! Our lot tend to stick to the Rules, you see? And not harming the messenger is most certainly a Rule".

A sip of coffee. Eyes filling with mirth.

"In the off chance that someone did take offence, all you have to do is amuse them for a while, and as I said, you're very good at that. But don't worry, they won't take offence".

Dick Grayson, attention still half focused on the vicious black claws on the man's hand, had to ask, "And why won't they?"

The man's pleasant smile didn't falter. But it did slowly morph into a grin with way too many teeth to be normal. The young vigilante had to suppress a shudder.

When the man?it spoke, the voice resonated. "Because you'll be one of mine. And they won't dare touch what's mine".

The teeth gleamed.

And just as abruptly as it shifted, the air changed, the pressure lifted, and the man was smiling once more.

Dick was left off-footed and tightly clutching the arms of his chair, his breath fogging in the still frigid air. He hadn’t even noticed the temperature dropping.

He looked at the man nonchalantly sitting across from him as if he hadn't just taken years off of Dick's life. The vigilante was not one to scare easily. Yet, mere moments ago, Dick had felt a fear so primal that it was maddening. It was not the kind of fear a human being could evoke, no matter how frightening their actions may be. Dick had seen the worst of Gotham, and Gotham was a cesspit on a good day. But he hadn't ever felt like this before today. If there was ever a question about the humanity of his companion before...well it was answered now.

To be honest, he couldn't quite recall how he got here in the first place. Everything was a blur.

No...not quite. His memories were alright, it's just that his mind couldn’t grasp them. 

And every second in this...space, had felt muted. As though he was lying beneath several layers of sheer fabric; he could somewhat feel things, see things, but his senses were muffled.

The spike of fear from before wasn't him breaking through as much as he was allowed to break through, and now he was safely back beneath the dampening cloud once more. It was almost comforting.

Dangerous.

Dick only remembered what had happened in bits and pieces. Being fired from Robin, the legacy he had forged for himself, named after his mother's love, and garbed in Grayson colours.

Being angry and distraught. Not knowing what to do.

It had taken him weeks to reorient himself. A month to gather his composure.

He vaguely recollected a cafe in Jump City. He had been sitting in a booth, contemplating his options...

Someone had sat right across from him, right?

He had looked up…

“Hello. May I sit here?”

“...Sure. Go ahead.”

“Daniel Nightingale.”

“...Richard Grayson.”

" I know. You shouldn’t give out your name so freely by the way. Also, could I have a bit of your time?"

"Um...yeah, sure?"

“Perfect!”

And the next thing he knew, he was Here.

Wherever here was.

(Why had he said yes then? He would never have done that normally.)

At first his mind had been adamant in believing that here was the very same cafe he had been sitting in. But Dick wasn't trained by the man known as the World's Greatest Detective for nothing. However, it had taken him an embarrassing few moments to start noticing the abnormalities.

For one thing, he had been sitting in a booth in a cafe, not at an ornate wooden table, much like the one in Bruce's home office. The only thing the cafe table and this one had in common was that they were both rectangular.

Secondly, their table was covered by a veil. A huge gauzy one hanging from above. But try as he might he couldn't see where it was hanging from, just a yawning darkness.

Finally, he could see shadows moving beyond the veil, and the more he looked, the more bizarre they became. And at one point, the shadows lost all pretence of humanity. They weren't even humanoid, let alone human.

He definitely wasn't in Jump City anymore.

It had taken him even longer to notice the man sitting across him. That he hadn’t left this Daniel Nightingale behind.

Wispy white hair.

"Ah! You noticed so quickly. You really are the perfect fit for the job!"

Green. green eyes.

"Apologies for the veiling. It's necessary however.., some things are not just meant for mortal eyes, you see. Without it, you might just go insane! We wouldn't want that now would we?"

Unnaturally pale skin.

"Enough dillydallying! But first, introductions. You may call me either Daniel or Nightingale. By what name would you prefer to be called?”

Something about that question made the ex-Robin’s hindbrain pay attention. The wording of it, the tone…

You shouldn’t give out your name so freely by the way.

Could I have a bit of your time?

Something had felt incredibly off, so he had gone ahead and given one of the alternate names he had been thinking of taking up now that Robin was over.

“You may call me Nightjar.”

Nightingale had looked incredibly pleased then. And a bit smug too.

“Let me cut to the chase then Nightjar. I’m here to offer you a job. You’re a perfect fit for the role. We offer excellent compensation, and flexible work hours. Considering you’re out of work now that you’ve been fired from Robin, I believe my offer would be interesting for you.”

For some reason, perhaps because of all the strange things that happened, the fact that Nightingale seemed to know his alter ego hadn’t surprised Dick. Instead of asking how he came to know about this particular information, including the fact that he got fired, he decided to keep the conversation rolling on this supposed job offer. He had an inkling that he won’t get anywhere even if he asked, so might as well mine some information by making the other man talk.

“What kind of job is it? And what exactly would be included in the compensation?”

In response the man had snapped his fingers, and produced a file out of nowhere. He opened it, turned it around and slid it across the table. Dick started. Nightingale made a go ahead gesture, a smile on his lips once more. Dick gingerly dragged it a bit closer, and took a look.

“As you can see Nightjar, the position being offered is that of a courier. Due to many reasons, delivery across the realms is a cumbersome affair, not the least due to political complications. The best system to lay down in this situation was to have an impartial party be in charge of the work. You can say that I am a representative of the aforementioned impartial party that took over the role. If you would turn a page over-

Dick had dutifully turned the page.

-you’d see that we offer great compensation. In addition to your salary, you’ll receive health insurance, life insurance, death insurance, medical insurance, dental, vision care insurance, paid vacation time, overtime pay, paid time-off, flexible time-off, paid medical leave, free medical care, maternity leave, paternity leave, all other forms of parental leave, a good retirement package, loan assistance, wellness programmes, child care assistance, regular bonuses, promotions, raises, accommodation, a provident fund, and a whole host of other benefits that are clearly listed on the page. And of course at the end right there is our offered starting salary, which is highly negotiable up to the amount listed right below it. Please take as much time as you need to read through them.”

To say Dick had been overwhelmed was an understatement. He hadn’t thought that this was going to be an actual, honest to God job offer. If anything he just thought the entire job thing was an excuse or prelude to something much worse. But as he parsed through the file, getting increasingly bewildered as the man rattled on, he had to admit that this really looked like a weird recruitment effort. And then his eyes had fallen on the salary figure, and the amount to which it could be negotiated upwards, and he froze. Because even for the ex-ward of a billionaire, it was a ludicrous number. He couldn’t even accurately count the zeros on the thing. Even Wayne Enterprises wouldn't be able to match a deal like this. 

At that thought Dick had felt a pang of pain as he remembered Bruce still hadn’t called him, or even made an attempt at apologising. There were no texts, no missives. Just radio silence. The pain in his chest increased and Dick had felt the ever returning feeling of being unmoored. He pushed those feelings to the furthest corners of his mind. He had to focus now.

Feeling marginally calmer, he had taken a deep breath and closed the file. He looked up at Nightingale who had been watching him avidly over the rim of a coffee cup which definitely wasn’t there before, and asked the most pertinent question.

“Why me?”

And now they are here.

Dick scoffed at the white haired being’s answer. Oh he didn’t doubt that it was the truth. By now he had somehow come to an understanding of how this worked. It was fae rules. Meaning he had to watch his mouth. Similarly Nightingale won’t lie, but he can certainly obfuscate.After all withholding information wasn’t technically a lie, especially if it was masked with a half-truth. In other words, Nightingale hadn’t lied, but that wasn’t all there is to it. And Dick wasn’t going to let it slide. 

“How am I supposed to believe you to be a good employer if you’re already lying?”, he asked outright. You know, like a reckless fool.

Nightingale’s pleasant smile instantly froze, and then it gained an edge. A sharp, lethal edge.

“I don’t lie”, the man said, a cold cadence to his voice.

Dick could feel the figurative whetted blade on his throat, but he pressed forward. This was the first time he had taken blood in this fiasco and he wasn’t going to concede just like that.

“Lying by omission, is still lying.”

Nightingale’s entire mien darkened, and frost spread across the table. Dick didn’t back off. 

There was silence. Suffocating silence. And then the vergals receded and Nightingale sat back with a satisfied air. Dick blinked in surprise.

“Good. You didn’t cower.”

Dick sat back on his own chair, his breath fogging in the still cold air. “Was that a test?”

Nightingale took another sip of his coffee. Was it even coffee? It looked like coffee, but who knows what anything is in this bizarre space. Certainly not Dick.

“It was a test. The position of a courier in this part of existence requires mettle, and a strong mind. You would be dealing with beings ranging from the divine to the demonic. I’m sure you know they are a stubborn lot. You’ll have to stand up to them often. Plus you would be representing Us. We can’t have an unprincipled, craven fool take the job can we now? So I had to test you. Congratulations! You passed with flying colours.”

Dick glared at the man. “I still haven’t agreed to anything. And you still haven’t told me why I was chosen.” 

Nightingale chuckled. It was an unnatural, but pleasant sound. “Aah you caught that. Very well then.”

He clasped his hands together and put them on the table, bringing Dick’s attention to the black, razor sharp claws once again, as well as to the extremely ominous ring he wore on his left hand’s little finger.

“You were chosen because you are a multiversal constant. This job requires much interdimensional, interuniversal travel, and a multiversal constant is ideal for the role. And before you ask, a multiversal constant is essentially someone whose soul acts as a consistent axis across worlds through indelible aspects of their existence. They are rare, and their axial quality makes multiversal travel easy for them.”

The white haired entity’s eyes shone in the dim light. “You are a multiversal constant Nightjar. Centred around your potential, And also, I know you will agree to do the job. So I’m not worried.”

Even as he struggled to process what was just revealed, Dick found the energy to scowl at the impishly grinning man. “And how would you know? What’s in it for me? All I’m seeing is a job, the benefits of which, doesn’t make up for how dangerous it is.”

“But you will accept it nonetheless”, replied Nightingale with an amused air. “Think about it. You’ve been fired from Robin but still intend to continue being a vigilante, and vigilantism is expensive work. Now that you don’t have the Wayne coffers to pull from, you would have to find alternate means to acquire resources. You’re brilliant and I have no doubt you will find those resources and do spectacularly under your new mantle. But that would take time. And calling in favours that could either be used somewhere else, or make you indebted to someone. The salary this job provides you will allow you to finance your quest for justice, and still have plenty leftover. Not to mention the other benefits, such as the free medical care provided by Us, people who will never question your injuries the way a normal hospital might, or put your civilian identity at risk like a back alley doctor.”

Nightingale’s verdant eyes stared a hole through Dick as he spoke. “You wanted to get out of Batman’s shadow. This is your chance, Nightjar.”

The young vigilante had to give it to Nightingale. The man sure knew how to pitch an offer. He found himself agreeing to most of what Nightingale said, especially the finances part but he still wasn’t going to agree to a job that would put him in the crosshairs of gods and demons. That was just monumentally stupid.

“You make good points”, Dick said as he slid the file sitting idle on his side to Nightingale. “But I’m still not gonna agree.”

Nightingale slid the file back over to him without missing a bit.

“If I thought you were the type to easily capitulate I wouldn’t have approached you in the first place,” the man said, not a single sign of ire at Dick’s repeated refusal in his voice. In fact he seemed rather glad Dick was being difficult.

“You want to know more about being a multiversal constant correct? That is not the kind of information you’ll find lying around on earth.”

A pitch black claw scraped across the table, but there was no noise, and the deep scratch left behind instantly stitched itself back together, the tabletop pristine once more.

“By now you must have a rudimentary idea of the world you are being invited into. You would not have called yourself Nightjar otherwise. You also know that this is not a world Batman has access to.”

The man pointed opened his right palm, still resting on the table, and brilliant emerald fire blazed to life on it. Something in Dick’s lizard brain told him this fire ran cold rather than hot.

“Magic and everything associated with it is not something the Dark Knight can handle by his usual methods. And magic is just one of the aspects of our Realm. An infinite more mysteries keep it company. This world is yours for the taking. No mortal would be able to access what you can and you would be able to help so many people.”

Blue eyes met green.

“This will set you apart from Batman once and for all. An identity that no one can take away from you at their whim. Just think of this as your day job, as being a CEO is for Bruce Wayne.”

Nightingale clasped one of Dick’s hands resting on the table and transferred the fire over to it. Dick stared as the flame danced merrily in his palm. It really was cold. By the time he had his wits about him, the fire had vanished. Nightingale had seemingly finished his coffee, as the cup was nowhere to be seen. 

Dick glanced at the white haired man who watched him calmly. Then he took the file and started reading through it. If he was going to take this job, he was going to make sure to read the fine print. Out of the corner of his eye, he could spy Nightingale’s gleaming, triumphant smile. Dick couldn’t help but feel annoyed. 

He didn’t know how much time it took for him to read the file completely. Time ran strangely in this space. What he did know was there was an ornate, silver pen right next to him, which definitely wasn’t there before. He had to roll his eyes at Nightingale's antics. 

Nonetheless he uncapped it, admiring the craftsmanship for a moment, and signed on the dotted line in his Alfred approved best cursive, bells, whistles, hoops and all. 

Nothing happened. Dick felt kinda disappointed. He had thought signing a magical contract with a possible fae creature would be a little less anti-climactic. Across from him, Nightingale chuckled as if he could read his mind. Could he?

He slid the file over once more, this time for last. Nightintingale just skimmed through before sliding over an envelope. 

“Your appointment letter”.

“You had that ready?”

“Of course.”

Dick snorted inelegantly at that. Obviously the man had foreseen how this would go. That should make him more wary than what he was feeling, but just as he had known the fire was cold before, he knew Nightingale wouldn’t harm him. Bruce would call him an idiot for this kind of illogical thinking, but Bruce wasn’t here now was he?

He was about to shove another medley of complicated emotions down, when Nightingale reached over and viciously ran a claw down his right arm. Blood spurted in a gruesome display and Dick scrambled back, chair falling down, and his body hitting the surprisingly sturdy veil.

“What was that about?”, he shouted as he clutched his bleeding arm to his chest. Just when he had thought the man didn’t mean him any harm…

Nightingale had the audacity to look nonplussed. He simply brought his palms up as if to show he meant no harm, but it was a moot point when one of his claws was dripping with Dick’s blood.

“Just testing something”, the man said calmly.

“Testing what?’, Dick asked angry and confused.

In response, Nightingale simply pointed to his arm.

“What? Testing whether your claws could tear me apar-”

He stopped short. There, before his eyes, the flesh of his arm was knitting itself together. In mere moments, the wound was gone, not even a scar where it should be. Dick was reminded of the table from before. What just happened?

“What did you do to me?”, he asked, voice soft, and emotionless. 

“Don’t worry. It's your compensation. Part of your medical aid.”

He waved his hand, and the blood vanished. “Do sit down, Nightjar. Lets order something to eat.”

Robotically Dick walked to the table once more. The upturned chair was somehow rightened, already pulled out as if waiting for him.

“That was a healing factor”, he said rather than asked.

Nightingale nodded unbothered. “Yes, you’ll be needing that in your line of work.”

The veil opened and admitted a two-headed woman in, carrying trays of food in her four arms.

When she left, Nightingale eagerly took up his cutlery, looking excitedly at what looked like a luminescent crepe. He glanced at a shell-shocked Dick and frowned.

“Please eat. It's safe to consume, now that you’re one of us. If you’re worrying about your job, don’t. You have been assigned an excellent mentor in Harker. The White Grim will train you well.”

With that, he dug in, clearly enjoying his glowing crepe.

Dick just stared at the man, at his no longer injured arm, and sighed. Might as well eat. He hadn’t gotten to eat anything at the cafe and was beginning to feel hungry.

He scooped a spoonful from what seemed like an overly fancy bowl of cereal.

One of them huh?

He took a bite.

[the-witchhunter]

DP x DC: True Love’s Kiss

loosely inspired by the Princess and the Frog, but more inspired by Comet the Super Horse, Supergirl’s oft forgotten “pet”

And by “pet” I mean Comet isn’t a kryptonian horse, he’s a fucking centaur named Biron cursed by a witch to switch between forms that also gave him superpowers. Might not have been a curse, but still oddly specific considering he was just her horse for a while and also in love with her I think?? Also a member of the Legion of Super-Pets. 

So LET’S DO THAT TO DANNY(kind of)

So the legend of the church Grim, is that it’s a protective spirit of sorts guarding churches and cemeteries, taking the form of a large black dog with red eyes. 

So, one of the various witches, warlocks, occultists or sorcerers managed to bind Danny, to guard... something. Danny isn’t quite the normal type of spirit and frankly the person clearly messed something up. The result?

Danny is stuck in the form of a black dog with access to some of his powers. Frankly, they seem suspiciously like Krypto’s powers... The League suspects Lex Luthor experimented with cloning Krypto, and Superboy get’s a superpowered pet of his own. 

Danny and Kon? The best of friends. They’re practically glued at the hip, where kon goes, Danny goes. Suddenly, being a dog isn’t all that bad. Sure, there’s the can’t talk or order fast food, but Kon feed’s him a lot more “people food” than he should when Ma Kent isn’t looking, and the dog food they get is surprisingly tasty. It’s fun wrestling with Kon, and Kon gives the best belly rubs. They take on bad guys together go on adventures, and it’s a surprisingly enjoyable life.

The one day, snuggled up in Kon’s bed ready to got to sleep, Kon just smooches his dog on the head, and *POOF*

Kon’s dog just transformed into a man his age, who is currently naked and in his bed.

[celestialrealms]

................................i don't want to talk about it

[connorsbonez]

DC/DP Crossover Idea #22

Clockworks newest assignment for Danny was too go to this Universe and help the souls of the dead move onto the afterlife. So, for fun, he dresses for the part of being the ‘guide for lost souls’

Danny meets a lot of people after that, old and young, with being dead the only thing every single one of them have in common.

He got called plenty of names by those he guided (or picked up and carried over), but none of them ever stuck as he never made a habit of visiting the dead and it wasn’t like those who died could tell anyone alive who he was.

Until the boy in the traffic light costume burst from his grave.

[ghostlyglimmer]

The Black Dog of Amity Park

CHAPTER 1

Summary:

After a fight with her parents, Sam Manson seeks solace in Amity Park’s old, neglected cemetery, rumored to be haunted by the mysterious church grim dubbed 'The Black Dog of Amity Park'.

Notes:

I'm super excited to finally bring this giant AU that's been rattling in my brain to the world! I hope you guys enjoy! Church Grims are my FAVORITE spectral entity. I find them to be so comforting.

The late summer sun had long since dipped below the horizon, leaving Amity Park cloaked in twilight. The soft glow of streetlights barely illuminated the cracks in the sidewalks as Sam Manson stormed out of her house, her boots thudding against the pavement. Her parents' voices still echoed in her head, dismissing her individuality and belittling her ideals. For years, they had tolerated her "phase," but tonight's argument had gone too far.

She wiped at her eyes with the back of her gloved hand as she made her way toward the Amity Park Cemetery. It was her refuge, a place where the living rarely ventured after dark. The rumors of the Amity Park Hound—a spectral, black dog with glowing green eyes—kept most people away.

But not Sam.

The cemetery greeted her with an eerie silence, broken only by the occasional rustle of leaves in the wind. Wrought iron gates creaked as she pushed them open, revealing rows of headstones in various states of neglect. Weeds choked the pathways, moss clung to the stones, and several markers had fallen over, left to decay in the dirt.

Sam frowned, a pang of sadness swelling in her chest. "This place deserves better," she murmured. It wasn’t right for the final resting place of so many to be forgotten like this.

She crouched down beside the nearest headstone, her hands brushing away the weeds that clung stubbornly to its base. The name etched into the stone was barely legible, worn away by time and neglect. "Don’t worry, Mrs. Peterson," she said softly, as though the name could still hear her. "I’ll fix this."

As she worked, her voice filled the empty graveyard. She spoke to the names on each stone, offering quiet reassurances and apologies for the neglect they’d endured. Pulling weeds, scraping off moss, and even propping up a toppled headstone, she poured her frustration and sorrow into her labor. Each sniffle betrayed her emotions—anger at her parents, sadness for the forgotten dead, and a strange sense of peace she found in their silent company.

Unbeknownst to her, glowing green eyes watched from the shadows of the treeline. Danny, the Amity Park Church Grim, stood with his hackles raised, his black fur bristling. His haunt had been plagued in recent years by delinquents looking for a thrill, knocking over headstones or leaving graffiti in their wake. He’d been ready to chase her out.

But this girl was different.

His ears perked up, his fur relaxing as he watched her. She wasn’t here to destroy anything. Quite the opposite—she was cleaning. She cared. Her small hands worked diligently, carefully, as if each stone belonged to someone she had loved. Her quiet voice carried on the wind, and Danny tilted his head as he caught the sniffles between her words.

She was crying. Why?

Danny's glowing eyes softened, his tail beginning to wag slowly. He liked this girl. For the first time in years, someone was showing his haunt the respect it deserved. She wasn’t just fixing stones—she was honoring those who rested there, as he had once done himself.

Sam paused now and then, brushing her arm across her face to wipe away tears she hoped no one could see. The sniffles reached his ears, and Danny tilted his head, his curiosity deepening. He wondered why this girl would come here, alone and upset, to do something so kind and so utterly thankless.

From his place in the shadows, Danny didn’t move closer. He didn’t want to interrupt or scare her. Instead, he settled in to watch, his large, dark frame blending with the treeline. His glowing eyes followed her every motion, and for the first time in a long while, he felt a strange warmth in his spectral heart.

This girl wasn’t like the others. She cared for his haunt, cared for the souls who rested there. And though she didn’t know it, she’d earned the silent protection of the Church Grim that night.

[softgrungeprophet]

ranking marvel writers and artists based on where SM/DP stands compared to their other work, in terms of quality

[lesbicosmos]

my dps sims household part 5

(part 4 here)

charlie and cameron spent most of this chess match yelling at each other

they just sat at desks next to each other in the classroom and read their books (while wearing each others jumpers)

they're talking about their radio

they're just so...domestic?? (also i love knox just asleep in the room next door)

POEM BOY CAN FINALLY POEM

meeks very excitedly drawing a mathematical diagram

oh god not again

FOR FUCKS SAKE

THE FIRE SPREAD OUTSIDE AND THEY HAD TO CALL THE FIRE SERVICE AND THE FUCKING FIREFIGHTER DIED

WHY IS THE GRIM REAPER JUST DOING THEIR DISHES NOW WHILE EVERYONE ELSE IS IN PANIC 😭😭

other (significantly less stressful) things that have happened

-there's no saxophones in the sims so charlies been learning violin, and he's been practising in his dorm...as cameron's trying to sleep

-neil and todd got more sentiments

-meeks put his maths drawing on his bedroom wall

-uhh they now have the tombstone of a firefighter just...in the garden

-2 sim days til the wedding! ive sorted the location and everyone's outfits out

[malrie]

okay….. please….. PLEASE…