Also I was thinking about something slightly...darker i guess?? I'm in a very weird headspace rn and this is my therapy
cw: legal age gap, creepy Simon and generaly unsettling behavior, obsessive and possessive Ghost, he's a pushy dick in this and very much a scumbag, he kinda gets off on seeing you helpless
How about reader who got recently kicked out by her shitty parents, 'she's now an adult and needs to start acting like that', except now she's barely in her 20's with little to nothing to her name except her clothes, the little money she managed to save over the years and a job as a waitress in a small café.
Putting together the saving she manages to rent out an apartment that was almost suspiciously cheap, not to mention the shady landlord who only contacted her through the phone but she couldn't just crash at her friend's place forever.
The moment you arrived at the destination you knew why was the place so ridiculously cheap; this build was...something. An old dilapitating apartment building, four stories high with old wooden-framed windows, some of them smashed. Empty beer bottles laid smashed next to the stairs mixing with cigarette butts, graffiti covered the ground floor walls and a very sad looking patch of grass that you think was supposed to be a garden were solemnly staring back at you as if taunting 'come on, try and run'.
Imagine sleazy neighbour Simon, dishonorably discharged from the army and now living in this shithole too, who takes a deep interest in the pretty young thing that moved in recently, almost growling when he first caught your scent; fresh and kinda sweet, feminine and clean. Definitely not the smells that he's accustomed to here: stale cigarettes, the stench of alcohol and wet dirt and fuck knows what else those creepy fuckers are concocting in their holes in here.
You're clearly new to...this. Simon can almost taste it; you were probably kicked out after pa and ma decided they're done with you...But who could throw out a pretty flower like you? Soft, trembling body, wide doe eyes almost brimming with tears of fright, fuck it does things to him.
Simon sure as hell wouldn't mind the company of a soft young woman like you, and he's pretty sure you wouldn't mind being protected and taken care of by a big, strong male like himself, right?
Even if you do, it's not like you have any say in that.
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(This was written in July oh dear-)
You know how in a lot of fics a de-aged Danny winds up in Gotham either via Clockwork putting him there, or Danny goes through a portal (either through his own volition or not) and ends up being taken in by one of the bats?
Okay that, but what if he was never picked up and ends up falling through the cracks and becoming one of the many homeless children wandering Gotham's streets, but unlike all the other street kids who know when to keep their head down Danny just doesn't have those fear receptors... like at all-
It's almost scary with how the kid manages to just not give a single flying fuck about what is going on.
So after a while of wandering the streets and getting acquainted with the Gotham's inhabitants everyone slowly get's used to the kid wandering around, dropping their guard and greeting him with smiles when he toddles around the corner, looking for his next meal or piece of scrap clothing.
Perhaps it's this show of trust they begin to notice the strangeness that hangs around him like a cloud. The shifting coloured eyes, the coldness in his skin that never seems to go away no matter how much clothing the kid gets bundled in.
The fact that no one knows where he goes once they take their eyes on him? Spooky to say the least, but they're Gothamites! One shady, possibly meta, kid ain't gonna change anything.
So he becomes a staple in everyone's lives, and eventually learned his name is Danny. He talks about having an older sister called Jazz, two best friends and a puppy he named Cujo. (who let their kids watch Cujo???)
They also learned he had an innate fear of The Bats, whenever one swept into the streets during their nightly patrol he would just... disappear. He became unfindable and wouldn't appear until the next day.
At first they thought it was him finding a safe place to sleep while the night rolled around and the Rouges came out to play, but that assumption was quickly squashed when he was caught wailing on one of the Jokers henchmen. The white makeup couldn't even cover up the black and blue bruises that covered his face.
It was comical, if not a bit frightening to see this small child practically a baby sitting upon a knocked out, grown ass man. His little stubby legs dangling off the side of his body, too small to even reach the ground.
Of course nothing stays under the Bats radar for long so he end up eventually getting spotted. However none of the Bats where expecting such resistance from the civilians when they offered to take the kid.
Now whenever the little tyke is bumbling around and a Bat (or any other vigilante associated with them) is in the area, it's all hands on deck to distract Danny and get him somewhere else.
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Could you write something where Danny is a teen dad to de aged Ellie? Bonus points if he lives in Crimr Alley and beats the Joker to a pulp for hurting his kid
Danny is trying his best.
It's not easy being a father at age sixteen. It's not easy having to leave his home in fear of what his parents will do to his clone-turned-daughter.
It's not easy watching her every day, wondering if her core will break down further, and instead of just de-aging this time, she'll end up dead. It's not easy worrying about her health in the most crime-infested city with a terrible job and relying on his pitiful check or the funds his sister can sneak to him.
But nothing good in this world is easy, and he wouldn't trade Dani for anything. Yes, she had lost her memories and acted like a real two-year-old, but he adored watching her eyes light up as she relearned the world.
Danny loved her to bits, and even buying her those cheap coloring books and crayons from the dollar store made Dani smile brighter than any star. They may struggle to pay rent and bills or buy food, but Danny can always scrape by, keeping her warm, fed, and house.
He worked at three different dinners, each part-time, since none of them were legally allowed to hire him full-time because of his age. Danny didn't have a single day off, but he had a few hours every day with Dani, which was enough.
While he worked, he asked his next-door neighbor to watch Dani. Now, it may not be the best thing to trust a stranger with his daughter but said neighbor is a ghost and one of the friendly kind.
Danny met her when he first moved in. Apparently, her haunting was one of the reasons the rent was so cheap. She never gave him her real name, but she stayed with Dani all day and had enough ectoplasm to physically touch things. Danny could sense her intentions with his core and knew her motherly adoration for Dani was authentic.
Privately, Danny called her Three since she haunted apartment three, and she sort of looked like she stepped out of the nineteen-thirties, complete with an attractive Transatlantic accent. She was an up-and-coming radio co-host, taking a segment to read stories to housewives before being murdered in her home.
Three never said why or how it happened, but she had been haunting the apparent complex for so long; her lore was well documented among the locals.
They say one of the Waynes had killed her after learning that his wife had fancied Three. But it was never proven and it became another theory that the rich would laugh at every once in a while.
(Three's face always twisted whenever she heard the name Wayne. Her hand would always reach up for a heart-shaped locket she refused to take off even in death.)
Since most people couldn't see ghosts unless exposed to ectoplasm for enough time, the stories of her attacks on anyone trying to get close to her apartment snowballed out of control. Danny thought it was unfair how evil they made her sound. Though it's true she had a strong distaste for men, she had a soft spot for children.
Danny had just been through the wringer; he had double shifts, one stacked right after the other. One of the dinners had let two people go after they had been arrested for moving illegal substances, and Danny had to cover until they found a replacement.
A woman had yelled at him for almost thirty minutes straight about a wait time for her surprise party of fifteen. A man threw up on their counter, and to top it all off, a kid had run into him while he was carrying a tray of food, causing him to spill everything.
Thankfully, the mother was horrified and apologized profoundly, but it had been almost too much for him. So when he was sweeping up broken plates and saw Three franticly flying at him screaming about some clown, well, Danny was doing his best.
And his best was fighting things far stronger than he.
____________________________________________________________
Jim Gordon's early afternoon gets interrupted by the Joker only three minutes after he is supposed to head home for the day. After escaping from Arkham a few months ago, the clown went to the ground, and everyone was nervous about what he was planning.
Jim's team hadn't heard any whispers or had any idea what the Joker was up to, which made everything worse. Usually, when something big and wrong was going to happen, they would catch at least one thing beforehand.
That's why the sudden broadcast of the lunatic had everyone jumping out of their skins.
"Good evening, Gotham. I want to welcome you to tonight's show. It's going to be killer." Joker cackles. He has somehow hacked into almost every screen in the city, his white devilish face appearing on TVs, phones, tablets, and even roadside advertising.
His voice echoes through the city as Jim barks at his employees to trace the signal.
"Recently, I felt it necessary to remind everyone that one is never too young to have a funny bone." The Joker continues, holding up a plush toy to the camera. He waves it a little, pressing the ginning bunny as close as possible so people can see its mouth has been sewed into a sickly wide smile. "I'm sure a few of you have noticed that certain school buses never arrived home."
The blood in his veins goes cold. How many buses? Which school? What kids were they? How old? Why had they not heard of the kids not arriving until now?
There are too many questions and nowhere near enough answers. Jim hates how useless he feels playing this sick man's game.
"But not to worry! You'll see your little ones again! After being guests on my very own game show! Every thirty minutes, one lucky child will get to compete for your amusement, and if they survive, they get an extraordinary prize-!"
His words are cut short by a dark figure flinging itself at the Joker and punching him to the ground. Thank every dark cloud in the sky that the Bat was on the case.
"Basty! Have you come to play- wait. You aren't Batsy." Joker's delighted tone melts into anger as the figure straightens to a young teenage boy.
"You have my daughter. Give her back." The teen tells the clown, voice flat and cold. "Three said your goons took her from her balcony."
"My boys take a lot of people." Joker laughs hoping up a flower. With a press of his finger, the teenager is covered in Joker Vemon. Jim's heart falls as the boy stumbles back, rubbing at his eyes. Joker laughs harder until the kid picks up a chair and slams it onto his head.
There wasn't even a chuckle from the boy. Huh.
"You have my daughter. Give. Her. Back."
"Or what?" The Joker taunts, snapping his fingers. There are sounds of people moving, likely the goons. "Kill him."
The boy doesn't seem to react to the men rushing at him. Someone knocks the camera stand over, and the view of the fight is taken away as it rolls on the ground. Thankfully, it ends up pointed at a wall, where they watch the shadows of the teenager and the Joker's goons fight.
It's hard to tell who's winning, with all the shadows blending together whenever they get close, but the fact that he hasn't heard the kid drop yet means he's holding his own. Jim's eyes narrow at the wallpaper, trying to figure out why it looks so familiar.
It hits him just as a little girl phases through the wall. Yes, phases, as if walking through it like a ghost. This would make sense since -
"That's Nightowl Apparemtents!" Ricky, the new cop from Crime Alley, cries, echoing Jim's thoughts.
"It's what?" Asks Sara
"Nightowl apparements. It's the oldest place in Crime Alley and one of the most haunted. They said a lover of a Wayne was killed there. She kills anyone who tries to rent the place. They do ghost tours occasionally, but no one dares to her hallway. That wallpaper is famous because it's the only one in Gotham with the original founding families' symbols." Ricky explains, watching the little girl tilt her head and then start to flout. Everyone shivers as a second figure bleeds out of the wall behind her.
This one is much more blurry, but the faith outline of a beautiful woman covered in blood hovers behind the girl staring at the fight. She's dressed in clothes that Jim is sure was decades ago, and unlike the little girl, she makes him feel very unsafe.
The ghost of Apparement three. Barbara had gone through a paranormal phase when she was fifteen and dragged Jim to all the haunted places in Gotham. Nowhere had made him feel as uneased as Gotham's cemetery- the most haunted place- but those apartments were a close second.
The ghost spots the camera, sneering at it and Jim actually jumps back.
"Oh, gods!" Ricky shouts, turning his head away. "I'm so sorry for looking into your eyes without permission!"
"It's not a telephone! It can't hear you, Ricky!"
"That's not the point, Sara!"
"Daddy!" the little girl cries, holding up her finger. "I got an ow-ow."
At once, the sounds of combat stopped, and then the screams began. It's nothing like Jim has ever heard. He's been on the force long enough to know what a human in pain sounds like, and those sounds—well, he prays that the Joker had decided to bring in animals.
If it makes him sick to his stomach he is worried about the regular people watching.
The little girl doesn't look away, tilting her head to the side like a curious child of two would and still holding her tiny up. After a moment, Jim realizes the screaming has stopped. There is silence before Joker falls beside the girl, beaten beyond recognition.
If it weren't for his purple sit, Jim would have thought him a goon.
The little girl doesn't blink an eye as the teenager rushes to her, kicking the Joker.
"Let me the ow-ow." The teenager demands, taking her hand in his. There is a moment of tense silence as the woman's ghost louts around him with a sneer. "A papercut! You gave my daughter a papercut!"
The ghost woman screeches, rage in every part of her cry. Jim feels his heart beating out of his chest, frozen in absolute terror as she reaches down for the Joker and drags him through the floor.
The man's screams are heard even through the muffled flooring.
"Holy shit," Sara breathes, voice trembling.
"This is why no one with a brain messes with Nightowl's ghost," Ricky hisses, rubbing at his cross. "How that kid go it to attack the Joker and not him and his daughter-"
The teenager gathers the toddler into his arms, his image fading with a hiss.
"-That was a ghost. The teenager that beat the Joker to near death was a ghost." Ricky swallows. "I am never stepping foot down that street again."
Somewhere in Gotham, a woman is sweating bullets after the feed is cut by Batman, who arrives with the rest of the Bats minutes afterward.
"Say, Mom, wasn't that the boy you were yelling at today in Teddy's Diner for Uncle Ron's birthday."
The woman's eyes swing back to the TV, where the waiter's face is frozen on the screen, his green glowing eyes almost staring into her soul. "Yes.....yes it was."
"Oh crud. I think we're cursed now, Mom. Way to go."
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