If I’ve Learned Anything From About 25 Years Of Actively Being Engaged In Fandom, It’s This: Fuck

I love that identity reveals between Jim Gordon and Bruce in fic almost always go the same way. Bruce goes "How did you know? Was it my acting?" and nine times out of ten Jim says something along the lines of "No, your acting was phenomenal. You gave yourself away by caring too much, Mr. Wayne."

Because the billionaire playboy cover was perfect and damn near airtight until one Bruce Wayne leapt in front of someone else during a holdup at a gala and "accidentally" got shot. No self-involved airhead with that much money riding on his life would ever -- ever -- let himself think of someone else in that moment.

We need a whole scene dedicated to them

The divine right of kings but it's a curse

Gordon: As much as I appreciate it, I don't quite understand why you're doing this.

Johnny: Oh, I had a pretty chill deal with the vigilante in my last haunt. If he found out I was causing too much trouble for the locals he'd drag me back, lol. He's a good kid.

Kitty: Yeah, we're gonna TRY to stay on the right-ish side of the law. Unless the GIW shows up.

Johnny: Oh yeah. If a government organization dressed in all white shows up, we're not holding back. We will go feral and fuck with them and anything they do, damn the consequences.

Gordon, definitely going to sic Red Robin on this mysterious government organization: Noted. I'll try to keep them out.

Kitty: Oh, would you? That's so sweet.

Gordon: I like the people with ghost powers on MY side, thank you very much. This city doesn't need any more rogues.

Short DPXDC Prompts #981

Johnny 13 and Kitty decided to switch their haunt to a more gloomy area. Gotham City was the perfect getaway for the couple. Lots of crime, rampant gas attacks, and a wonderful motorcycle racing scene. Everything is perfect except for financials. See, ghosts technically don’t have identities in the government's eyes. Robbing every time you need something isn’t ideal and can get magic users to hunt you down. After a few weeks of searching Johnny strikes a deal with Barbara Gordon and Jim Gordon of the GCPD. His job is to be a rat/informant of gang and villain activity in Gotham.

In a dimension with Fentons (doesn't matter which one), the IRS made a multilayered magic contract that banned the Fentons from ever having to pay their taxes and, by extension, be the IRS's problem. This magic contract transcends dimensions. This is good for Danny and terrifying for everyone else.

you’ve inspired me so here’s a thing you can do whatever with cause I got a migraine and lost my train of thought

so Danny’s working the bar at the iceberg lounge and notices more people are stress drinking, even the Big Names and asks what’s up only to find it’s ✨Tax Season✨

Danny: oh I always forget about that

someone: (aghast) you don’t pay your taxes

Danny: *shrugs* I’m not allowed to pay taxes

wtf does that mean, is he exempt, someone asks but no Danny explains that the first and only time he tried to pay his taxes he received a full refund and a cease and desist order

word gets around and not even the joker want to mess with Danny because what kind of a monster can scare the irs

(This is actually an inherited problem from his parents)

"What did you just say?" Danny looks up from where he is mixing drinks. Across from him is a purple suit-wearing clown- he hates clowns, so he was attempting not to make eye contact- whose whole white face is twitching slightly.

Danny blinks slowly, using every ounce of self-control to not give in to the urge to reach across the bar and slap him. After a moment, he answered, "I always forget tax season."

"You're crazy enough to take on the IRS?" The clown's jaw drops. "I mean Batman, sure, I understand that, but the IRS?"

Danny frowns. "I don't take them on. I don't have to do my taxes."

"How?" A man in a suit covered in question marks demands from further down the bar.

He shrugs his shoulders a little. "I tried it once, but they sent me a full refund and a cease and desist order. They only remind me that I cannot file taxes now."

"Prove it," A man covered in scales hisses.

Danny grabs a rag, using it to clean off the lemon juice. He reaches into his apron pocket, pulling out a folded-up letter. He could have left it in his locker, but stuff always went missing there. Best to keep his stuff on his person while working. "Sure. Here I have it now. I went to the post office before my shift-hey!"

The lade covered in leaves yanks the letter out of his hand, unfolding it and reading the words as though it wasn't a federal crime. Her voice wavers when she gets to the reminder that the United States of America Internal Revenue Service would not stand another attempt at Daniel Fenton's taxes.

"This can't be real," She scoffs, but there is an underline of worry in her voice that she can't entirely hide.

She turns to a man in a strange white and black suit- like it's evenly split down the middle strange. It matches his face, though; one side is gorgeous, and the other is deformed. "This isn't real, is it Two-Face?"

Two-face takes the paper from her hand, carefully reading the words before pulling out his phone and typing away. After a few seconds, he pauses, then gasps. "It's real. My boys just confirmed the Tax ID number. He is not legally allowed to do taxes."

"Holly Molly, you're insane," the clown gasped, backing out of the seat while pointing at Danny as though he was the devil. "Stay away from me you lunitic! I'm not messing with the IRS's boogie man!"

He turned tail and ran, leaving behind a stunned Danny, wondering what he could have said to earn that reaction. His parents back home were also ordered to not do their taxes. It's common.

He turns to his other customers, ready to take their order, but they all pale and quickly duck away from him as well.

Strange.

Then, Danny notices the silence that has fallen upon the Iceberg Lounge. Even the music has been cut off as everyone stares at him in disbelief.

He shifts, a little uncomfortable with the stares. Danny has never grown used to attention, no matter how much he craved it as a teenager. He always wanted to be in the It Crowd and be given an official membership to the A-listers, but he grew to understand that the only way they liked seeing him was in pain.

So Danny learned to avoid attention as he could, which wasn't complex as the part of the town's freaks, but the very few mintues someone did pay attention to him something terrible ended up happening.

Dash stuffed him into a locker while classmates laughed and cheered the bully on.

A teacher calling on him just to make him feel stupid.

His parents realized he was slipping in his grades and reminded him that he was a failure to the family's intelligence.

Or some random GIW agent that "banished" him from his Earth, flinging Danny straight across the universe to whatever hellhole Gotham crawled out of.

He barely got this bartending job only a few weeks ago- lying about his age which he thinks his boss doesn't care about- and using a shade of an old bartender to coach him in mixology.

Shades were different from ghosts. For one thing, they were weaker and unable to be seen by regular people. They could not interact with the world and often didn't even know they were dead. If Danny had been able to see them before the portal, he would have known they were the cause of what is commonly known as a "ghost."

They were the myths.

Jeff Ricci is Shade, one who is aware he died. He was killed in a gang shoot-out a few years after he and his sister ran away from an abusive home. They traveled through three states, dodging police and CPS, before they disappeared among Gotham's homeless population.

The pair of siblings survived for a while doing odd jobs for local gangs- things like drug runs or helping them move guns- which is why Jeff was out there the night the fight broke out.

It was an imperfect stroke of luck, the wrong place and time. The two had been doing so well, too. They had both gotten jobs at the Iceberg Lounge, lying about their ages, where Jeff was a dishwasher, and Lucia was a housekeeper.

After hours, Jeff was taught by his coworkers how to properly mix drinks, waiting for Lucia to finish her job. When the two turned eighteen, Lucia became a waitress, and Jeff joined the bar- though if anyone asked or checked their employee records, both were twenty-one.

With better pay and hours, they could rent an apartment, finally gaining a home after three years of homelessness. Jeff had lived in that home for only a month when he accepted a job to buy Lucia some migraine medication and had perished.

Lucia lived on without her twin, broken far more than before, but she still had the apartment and job at the Iceberg Lounge. She was unaware her brother still followed her around, watching her actaully turn twenty-one while he remained eighteen.

That's how Danny met him, a somewhat see-through man casually following one of the prettiest waitresses. He had assumed he was being a creep, but Jeff had been delighted that someone could not only see him but was willing to protect his sister by threatening him away from her.

In exchange for lessons on proper mixing, Jeff asked Danny to keep an eye on his sister. Help her when he could not. It was a fair trade from one younger brother to another.

The shade is currently leaning against the counter beside Danny, staring at him as though Danny was a god. "You scare the Joker. Shit, Danny, I knew you were some kind of Rouge in the making, but to take out heavy hitters like this before your debut!? That's just terrifying! Would you be willing to pay my sister to be your secretary or something? She's a great typer!"

What a strange place Gotham is.

*Mutual reblogs something you posted*

Me: They still like me. Thank God.

Someone just pronounced charade like facade I'm going to die.

There's a glowing humanoid adolescent looking being covered in a violently green glowing blood(?) covering them. They look at Hal, and the look so, so scared.

"Hey, I'm here to help," Hal says, as softly as he can. Universal translation of the ring don't fail him now.

The kid opens their mouth but nothing comes out. Their gloved(?) hands reach up to clutch at their throat, showing off the strange, sharp handcuffs on their wrists. The kid looks up at him, eyes wide and beseeching.

"I'm going to come closer, okay? I'll get those off you, and get you somewhere safe, okay?"

'Promise?' The kid mouths, overexagerated. (Is this what Batman feels before he gets another for his brood? Hal has to say he now regretfully understands where Bats is coming from.)

"Yeah kid," Hal replies as he slowly hovers closer, "I promise,"

DPxDC Prompt

After escaping the GIW by flying into the GIW’s own portal Danny flies aimlessly in search of the far frozen to heal and rest. With a fresh wound on his throat and  wearing the GIW’s patented power suppression cuffs, Danny can’t even speak let alone use most of his powers.

He can’t even dodge as a natural portal opens right on top of him spitting him out in the void of space!

Shocked and stunned he can barely react when a man in a green suit flies up to meet him asking him if he needs help.

Guess what? Thanks to me and a friend, Who’s Old Now actually has a TV Tropes page!

Cool, I think. What's a TV Tropes page and where can I find it? Thank you for putting in the effort, even if I don't actually know what this is.

i finished your Danny Phantom + Batfam fic the other night and lemme please tell you how well you wrote it!!! PLUS its that final push for me to watch Danny Phantom finally (after all these years too) so thank you for that :D

I'm glad you enjoyed it, thanks for telling me!