#Clockwork is the Endless

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 128

Everything was gone. But it had been gone for a long time. Cities crumbling to dust under the march of time and under the battering of the weakening sun. Everyone had long since passed into the realm of the dead, and he had long since retreated from the land of the living as he aged, growing larger amidst Time’s coils. 

He’d long since stopped being known as Danny to most, his true Name cradled in his core as it grew in power and importance with his own primordial ascendence. Others called him by just as many names as Clockwork, if not more as his planets grew life, his galaxies cultivating their own beings into existence. 

To some he was a creator, the bringer of life itself. To others he was destruction, the end of all. So many names, so many even coming close to his Name, each cradled gently by his core. 

He was Space, he was stardust, he was a blackhole, the far off galaxies, newborn stars forming in his hands and dying with a blink. Galaxies dancing in his hair, what was, what will be, splintering into planes amidst his strands of hair. 

He was Balance, chaos and order dancing together on a tightrope twisting through existence. He was Phantom, a name whispered amidst the Realms as a guardian, a protector, and yet a hunter, a destroyer at once. 

He was a Brother, a Father, an Uncle, a Son. He was many things, and that was fine with him, but even if hypothetically he should be impartial, he would freely admit he had favorites. Danielle, his little Moon, his first Daughter and her children of Krypton. Dan, his raging Sun, his Son and his little Laughing Magicians. Clockwork, his Father of Time, and his Speedsters who raced through timelines like giggling toddlers, not really understanding but loved all the same. 

His dear Sister’s children, her Ma'aleca'andrans and Atlanteans she tenderly cradled and protected as long as she could before sleep overtook her. His dear Tucker’s Champions, the children of Magic lost and alone. His dear Sam’s children of Lazarus, dancing with blades and between life and death. 

Their dear children that came from all of their blood. The Lords of Chaos, of Order, entire Cities brought to life by their magic, entire planets whose heartbeats pulsed with their own. 

Everything of what they had once been was gone. And it had been gone for a long time. But they were all still here. For Death was just as much a beginning, as it was the end. 

#dcxdp #dpxdc #prompts #writing prompts #Clockwork is the Endless #Danny is one of the children of the Endless #One of these days JL is gonna talk about their beliefs and realize there's some overlap #Or someone is going to summon someone #Tucker continues to reincarnate but keeps his memories since he's fully ascended now #He definitely feels when his next Champion is chosen and definitely finds Billy #eternal trio #Val is with them too #they love each other #Omg Val is the one who created the Source and the many types of Lantern Rings #League of assassins are for saving the animals and such like that was part of its original goal #Sam would be down for having an assassin cult in one of her names #Danny holding Constantine and Superman and Batman in one hand: Grandsons :) #Danny holding Martian Manhunter and Aquaman: Nephews :) #Danny holding Klarion and Nabu: Grandchildren :) #Danny holding all the speedsters: Siblings :) #Danny holding the League of Assassins & Captain Marvel & Green Lanterns: Children <3 #This could also work as a crossover with something else #It could be a crossover with anything they have no qualms with moving through dimensions and timelines

[bet-on-me-13]

Death, Destruction, and Danny

(disclaimer: I have the barest bones idea of what the Endless are or their personalities, so this is just a quick blub of something I thought of at Work)

So! The JLA have just had an encounter with a member of the Endless, and called in Constantine to explain what exactly they are.

"Okay, so it's like this. Before Existence, before The Universe itself, the Personification of Time had a group of Children. These Children each Represent an Aspect of the Universe, and they are as Immortal as Immortal can get." Constantine explained.

"These children are called the Endless. They are, Dream, Destiny, Despair, Desire, Delirium, Destruction, Death, and Danny."

"...Danny?"

"Oh yeah, Danny's a cool guy. He was adopted later on by Time Itself, and he represents Balance. But that's not a word that starts with D so he just goes by his Mortal Name, Danny, to fit in."

#Dpxdc #Dcxdp #Dp x dc #Dc x dp #Danny Phantom #Dc #Dcu #The Endless #Death of the Endless #Dream of the Endless #Desire of the Endless #Destiny of the Endless #Despair of the Endless #Delirium of the Endless #Destruction of the Endless #Danny of the Endless #Danny is Deaths favorite sibling because he hangs out with her the most #Clockwork is the Father of the Endless #Clockwork adopted Danny #Nocturn is just an aspect of Dream #Or maybe just Dream in his “Casual Clothes” when he isn't trying to maintain his reputation #Clockwork #I thought it was funny because Danny starts with a D #And the Endless have a D name thing going #And he gets adopted by Clockwork in some AU's #And Clockwork is basically Time who is the Dad of the Endless #It's funny to hear a normal name like Danny after so many grandiose names

[alyholmesz]

The Adopted One

Time is also Clockwork. When Danny fully comes into his powers Night became threatened by her partners new child and tries to destroy them. So Time yanks the little baby Ghost King (He has not even two decades old Night! Has barley come into existence. How could you attack the baby?) and dumps him right in the middle of the table his seven other children were having their once a century dinner. They can look after their new sibling while Time takes care of Night.

They Endless were having another tense dinner when suddenly a boy with blue eyes and hair as messy as Dreams appears in the center of the dinner table with a familiar green sticky note tight in the center of his forehead.

What did their Father do now?

#dc x dp #dp x dc prompt #dpxdc #danny phantom #ghost king danny #clockwork #father time #the endless siblings #The Adopted One AU

[the-witchhunter]

DP x DC: Clockwork

I’ve been seeing “Clockwork is Chronos” popping up, and I don’t hate it, it’s a good way of connecting Danny to Wonder Woman, but there’s some baggage that comes with him being the literally mythological Chronos that I don’t think most people really want to deal with. AKA him eating his children and the war between the gods and the titans, which probably wouldn’t endear Danny to Wonder Woman

Also there’s a Villian named Chronos in DC comics, with time powers and that confuses things further

An alternative, if I may suggest, is have clockwork just be Time...

Time as in Father Time, the primordial embodiment of time, and father of the Endless from the Sandman series. Not to be confused with Father Time of S.H.A.D.E.

So Time is time and also controls his domain which is time. Time is constantly changing from a young boy to a middle-aged, then an elderly man in a random pattern. Sounds pretty darn familiar, right? Almost as if that describes Clockwork to a T. Time and his partner, Night, or Mother Night, hooked up and the result was the endless. Time and Night are no longer together, though Time misses night.

For those who don’t know, the Endless are embodiments of aspects of reality, beings above mere gods. They are described as “inconceivably powerful” There may be gods of the things they represent, but they are literally the thing they are. The Endless are Destiny, Death, Dream, Destruction, Desire, Despair, and Delirium(formerly Delight). They’re a dysfunctional family with Death being the one that gets along with everyone and the one that most has her shit together.

So what does Clockwork being Time give Danny? 

It would make him the adopted grandson of a cosmic force, as well as give him a bunch of dysfunctional aunts and uncles, one of which is Death herself, who is actually a really cool person. 

This gives him ties to beings that are functions of reality embodied, that even if they are somehow destroyed, only that aspect of them is dead and they Reform as a different aspect, which has only happened twice.

Any member of Justice League dark would shit their pants finding this out about Danny. Hell, this might through some of the regular justice league for a loop. Martian Manhunter has met and recognized Dream before. Wonder Woman might know about the Endless already. Hell, Dream was allowed to waltz right into hell and met up with Lucifer, like it was no big deal, and that was after being incredibly weakened and lacking his tools

So yeah, let Danny be the adopted nephew/pseudo sibling to the Endless. His name even starts with a D so it works on multiple levels

#Danny Phantom #danny fenton #dp x dc crossover #dp x dc prompt #dp x dc #clockwork #the sandman #the endless

[glow-worms-are-believers]

Meet your Death (dp x dc)

Danny remembers the day he died in patches.

He can’t remember what day of the week it was, but he can recall with perfect accuracy the feeling of the rubber jumpsuit on his skin. Sam and Tucker’s voices in his ears as he unlocks the front door are crystal-clear but what Sam had actually said when she’d dared him to go in the portal is buried deep in his brain. Jazz says it’s normal. She says memory can get weird when trauma is involved. Her books write that it’s good to talk about it but Jazz must see something in his face when she relays the information because her voice softens as she tells him it’s ok to let it be forgotten too. Then, she hugs him and Danny melts into it: his sister gives the best hugs.

So yeah, Danny doesn’t remember the day he died very well.

That’s why he doesn’t really understand why he remembers the woman so perfectly.

He’s not sure if she was real or a product of his electrocuted brain but she appeared like magic, just as he let out his death wail.

“Oh, damn. That’s not a fun way to go,” she’d said with a grimace.

And all of a sudden Danny had been out of his twitching, painful body, seeing it from the side. “What happened?” he asked, terrified.

He had felt her put a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry kid,” she said, and she sounded sincere. “You’ve just died.”

“What? No,” Danny had babbled. “No, I can’t. I’m going to be an astronaut.”

“I’m sorry sweetheart,” the woman repeated, squeezing his shoulder.

“But-” he tried as he caught sight of her kind expression and it calmed him slightly. “I’ve never even been kissed!” Danny had continued nonsensically.

The woman had let out a laugh. “Personally, I think it’s overrated,” she shared like a secret, good-humouredly.

“I still would’ve liked to try,” he’d pouted which had her ruffling his hair fondly and something settled in his chest at the gesture. Elsewhere, something clicked into place and most of the fight left him, his protests dying on his lips.

“Come on, honey,” she’d told him before putting her hands on his shoulders to steer him away from the portal. “Time to go.” So, Danny had let himself be directed after one last glance at his body.

He hadn’t even taken one step before a terrible pain shook his whole body and he fell to his knees.

“Danny!” The woman exclaimed, but her voice sounded faint to his ears.

The boy’s hands flew to his chest as he curled on himself, as the pain burned through his limbs before he once again let out a blood-curling scream. And all of the sudden he was back in his body with Sam and Tucker looking down at him, their faces full of horror.

“Danny!” Tucker had exclaimed and Danny had seen what looked like tears in his best friend’s eyes, meanwhile, Sam had looked him all over frantically to find an injury. Danny had tried to tell them he was ok, but his mouth had felt like cotton and his eyes had felt so heavy.

Just before his eyelids had slid closed, he’d thought he’d seen the woman from before peering at him confusedly over Sam’s shoulder.

#Danny starts seeing the woman around #Death is a bit confused about this boy who died and immediately came back #Just read a few issues of The Sandman so yeah that’s the vibe! #(goddamn but this Mr. Gaiman can really write) #death of the endless #father time is clockwork #dp x dc #dc x dp #roxpox #roxpoxwrote

[home-of-renn]

I love fics where Danny is an otherworldly abomination - but not yet.

Like he's still a baby and hasn't yet grown into his eldritch existence. As of now, he gives you a little chill whenever you get too close or look him in the eye. The hair on the back of your neck stands on end when he's in the room and sometimes you feel like there's something not quite right with the Fenton kid and you have to resist the urge to just turn tail and run.

But also he's just the resident weird kid at school who still hasn't hit his growth spurt and keeps getting shoved into lockers even though he's a senior now. Like maybe he's just ~ like that ~ ya know?? Who wouldn't turn out weird if their parents were nutjob ghost hunters.

He makes you want to clench your teeth every time he walks past and sometimes you swear he barely even breathes - but he stutters when he's nervous and does that thing where he rubs his neck and he's got curly handwriting and keeps getting detention from falling asleep in class - half the time his notes are plastered on his cheek and he's got ink on his chin.

But give him a few hundred years and he'll fill you with so much existential dread that it'll make you question your entire existence and place in the universe and your lungs will feel like they've been filled with lead - every time he opens his mouth to order the newest item on the Nasty Burger menu.

Clockwork would be so proud.

#dp #the endless joys of being half dead #what to do when your best friend expands beyond the realms of mortal comprehension #but still wants to order his own milkshake #dp clockwork #lost time #crack #danny phantom #danny fenton #i love my eldritch abomination son #home of renn #drabble #dribble drabble #eldritch danny #cryptid danny

[kitsunesongs]

In DC canon, I'm pretty sure the Seven Endless, Destiny, Death, Dream, Destruction, Desire, Despair and Delirium, are the children of Father Time and Night.

My brain immediately came up with an idea where Father Time is the same as Clockwork. For the first time in eons, the Endless's Father shows up at the family dinner, bringing with him a young half-human half-ghost named Daniel.

Clockwork/Time: Everyone, this is your new little brother, Daniel.

#dp x dc #the sandman #danny phantom #clockwork #the endless

[ghostly-penumbra]

Father and Sons

Ao3 FFN

Summary: Clockwork is Danny's loving, adoptive grandpa. Time is the Endless neglectful father. They are one and the same.

[Chapter One]

Chapter Two: Introduction

- - -

Danny glared at the pages of his book willing them to make sense through his mounting headache.

“C’mon, Fenton this isn’t rocket science!”

“Actually,” his book said, closing itself in his grasp and using its pages as a mouth, “I am.” It turned, showing Danny its cover with the title Rocket Science for Stressed College Ghosts by D. J. F.

“Oh, yeah, you are. Still, though,” he opened the book again, finding his childhood drawing of himself astride a rocket, “gotta keep my mind in the game.”

“Daniel Fenton.”

Danny looked up at the sound of his name and found a guy around his age who reminded him of himself in a weird, funhouse-mirror kinda way.

He was as pale as snow (no, really!) with wild white hair that defied gravity and green eyes as bright as the emerald gleaming on his chest, which was the only speck of colour in an otherwise solid white ensemble.

Before Danny could ask him if he needed anything, he realized something, “Oh, this is a Dream.” He stood up and found his sleeping body drooling all over his notebook, with several empty cups of coffee around him like a summoning circle. (One to which he wouldn’t mind being summoned to, if he was honest.)

“Would you walk with me, Daniel?” The guy asked.

With the ease of one who’s dreaming, Danny said, “I don’t really like leaving my body behind…”

“Your soul remains attached to it, it would just be your consciousness being away.”

Danny looked at his sleeping form for another half moment before nodding, “Yeah, okay.”

They left the library together, walking through the campus unperceived by those still up and about.

“I know you, right? You seem familiar.” Asked Danny at last.

“Yes, we have met before. Almost a hundred years ago for me, though I doubt it’s been so long for you. And it never actually happened, in the end.”

“You’re Clockwork’s son!” The halfa exclaimed as if it had made perfect sense. Since he was dreaming, it had. “Sorry, last time you… looked different.”

Dream of the Endless nodded, and his green eyes gave way to the visage of a starry night sky. “I was different.” He whispered, more to himself than Danny.

“I didn’t think I’d see ya again, if I’m being honest.” At the inquisitive sound Dream made, Danny elaborated, “I’ve met some of your siblings and, well, I know I’m not you guys’ favorite person, even if you don’t mess with me ‘n’ stuff…”

“Yes.” Dream nodded. “I imagine.”

After another moment of silence, the Endless spoke again.

“I came to you to ask for a favour.” Danny looked at him curiously, and Dream procured a bent, artsy-looking pocket watch from his white coat. “I’ve finally retrieved my father’s saeculum; it must be returned to him. I don’t wish to bother him again, so I believe it would be better to ask you to deliver it when next you visit him, if you are amenable.”

“Of course no problem.” Danny took the watch in his hands and turned it this way and that. “Huh, I think I’ve seen him working on this.” He said awkwardly to fill the silence.

Danny stared at Dream, his lips pursed and Dream stared back, impassive.

“I don’t mind helping you out with this, but… you could… go and visit him, that’d be cool. I think he would like that.” Danny finally said not meeting the other’s eye.

“My father has made it quite clear he doesn’t.” Dream said. “You were there, Daniel.”

“Yes! I- I know, but… if it’s a social visit, he’ll like it, I’m sure of that.” Dream looked at him hard, incredulous, and Danny sighed. “Look, I know Clockwork is not the best father he could be, and that’s on him not on you or your siblings, but… I care about him, yeah? And he’ll probably ground me for saying this, but he’s lonely! And I… just… think that if you came over just to say hi, he’d like that.”

They had stopped walking, and Danny still couldn’t look Dream in the eye, his gaze instead on his white shoes.

“I don’t need your help.” Dream said after a moment and Danny flinched, afraid he had overstepped and now Clockwork’s son would go to him himself and throw Danny’s words to his face and- “But I was curious;” the Endless continued over Danny’s internal panicking, making him halt and finally look up into starry eyes, “as I said, last time we met, I was different, other. Whatever my predecessor, the first Dream of the Endless thought of you is out of my reach, but looking at these memories… I’m curious as to what kind of person is the one my father favours so that he has adopted you as his grandson, doting on you as he doesn’t on his children.”

Danny felt himself being measured, his worth put on a scale against his grandpa’s seven children for their right to him.

He knew it wasn’t a competition because he had already won. That didn’t make him feel good.

“I see now that you love him, independently of whatever boon he granted you, but you don’t covet his attention, so he doesn’t deny it to you. You see him as other than his post so he presents himself to you that way.”

Danny didn’t know what to say, he probably didn’t understand everything that was being not said by his chosen grandpa’s son.

He couldn’t say ‘he’s not that bad, really’ without having to omit ‘to me’ and he didn’t want to lie so he just changed the topic. Or rather, he came back on topic.

“I’ll give him the sæculum next time I see him, and you won’t owe me anything, I’ll do it gladly,” he looked again at the surrealistic piece of art, wondering what was its purpose, before looking back at Dream, “but please, just think about it that’s all I ask.” He finished with a small, helpless shrug.

“I will consider it, but I can’t promise you anything.” Dream said, and Danny almost sighed in relief, but held it back. “But regardless of that…” The Endless began again, and Danny straightened, as he felt he was the one in the other’s debt, “my father has taken you in as his grandson and that makes us family.”

Danny blinked, startled, and waited for Dream to elaborate on that, but when he didn’t Danny assumed he must’ve missed some social cue and hurried to answer, “I mean, that’s- optional, y’know? With it being a symbolic adoption and all, not even legal though very real for us. You don’t have to. I wouldn’t want ya to feel some, obligation if you don’t want to be-”

“I want to.”

Danny stopped dead in his tracks and stared at the person-shaped concept facing him, speechless.

“I want to be your family, Danny. If you are amenable to it.”

“I- that’s- ah, I, I don’t- yeah! Yes.” Danny said, mind still lagging. “That, I’d like that.”

#Danny Phantom #The Sandman #Danny Fenton #Dream of the Endless #Daniel Hall #Clockwork #Father Time #ghostly-scrypts

[rexwrendraws]

i have so much art i want to do for this fic but time keeps escaping me so. some old sketches (from oct 2022) for the first dreamling fic i ever read, back last august. literally blew my tiny mind i love it so much and reread it very often. i always pictured hob in that fic as a combination of comic hob and tv hob :)

We have all the time in the world (on Ao3) by @anthrossandman !!

#i have been wrestling with so many wips for this fic you have no ideaaaaa #still my favorite dreamling fic to this date i think it nails the dynamic so well #and i dont want to get any hopes up bc im really bad at committing but honestly i hope i get around to finishing the #other arts i wanted to do for this fic!! excited for clockwork dream and the RED #so. hope i get around to that #op thank you for carrying the weight of this ship before the boom o7 #first one in particular was fun bc hob's injuries were very specific!! #drew one that wasnt very cleaned up of the card and ohhh excited for that #okay enough tag rambling from me lmao #hob gadling #dream of the endless #morpheus #death of the endless #we have all the time in the world #dc #the sandman #dreamling #rex doodle #rex process

[micamicster]

Up there with the worst inventions of the technological age is the class groupchat

#endless groupme notifications from bitches I don’t care about on topics idgaf about #I have endured 30 messages about what this girl should ask for for christmas whyyyyyyy am I involved in this conversation!! #I feel like the clockwork orange except instead of my eyes being held open it’s my ears to this useless conversation #and I can’t mute it because important info is disseminated through these also #ugh also I badly need my roommate to get here I can’t do a whole week like this #it’s only Thursday and I’m looking forward to work tomorrow because i miss talking to people #andyyyyyyyyy come back!!!!!!!! #I canNOT live alone when will andy get here im so serious i can’t do this

[chimeracreates]

Manifestation of Order: Spectral cogwheels hover behind you; The hands of a clock spin in your eyes.

#an older piece from 2023. before i used big canvases. tabaxi sorcerer oc i want to use in a campaign someday who i was thinking today #his nickname is time he's a clockwork sorcerer w the heart of an automaton. he's based off clouded leopards and i like him very much #endless march of time #tabaxi #mine #original

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 165

Danny is rather bemused but honestly with how his life is, this might as well happen. Apparently he has seven more siblings now, and a whole second dysfunctional family. And apparently he, Ellie and Jordan are the babies of the family. So. 

Could Clockwork have mentioned that one of his variants had children before? Maybe, but this gets him out of becoming ghost king at the age of fourteen, which is a baby to the Realms anyway. 

Well, hopefully their new siblings will be fine with them… 

#dcxdp #dpxdc #prompts #The Endless #Ideas for the Dannys second name include: Defiance; Discovery; Determination; Desolation; Dichotomy; Dissonance; or Discord #Together they are Duality or something idk lol #The Endless treat Clockwork half like their stepdad and half like their uncle #Different timelines can get confusing and no one wants to think about it #No one wants to be ghost king and are voting to abolish the monarchy #Clockwork is the Realms half of Time & has his own siblings such as Chaos #Variants are sort-of duplicates & sort-of clones & sort-of timeline versions #It gets confusing REAL fast #the dannys are Death's favorites #Dream is interested in the fact that Danny can dream-walk #ALSO CAN I JUST SAY #All of the Endless are pale with black hair except for two redheads #They fit in so well lmao

[xadoheandterra]

Series: still waters run deep Title: Transitive Existence Fandom: The Sandman (Netflix + Comics semi-fusion), Danny Phantom Chapters: I Enablers: @demigodorion @azthedragon @kbobrian (because you three litereally went “do it” soooooo....) Characters: Death of the Endless | Teleute, Time, Clockwork, Danny Fenton (as a baby) Pairings: Night/Time (historical) Tags: How Not To Talk To Your Children, Time is an A+ Parent (sarcasm), Death is a good Big Sister, Baby Danny is Love, The Observants Are Assholes (with the occasional exception), Fucking With Canon For Fun, Fandom Fusion Summary: A New Endless is born, a new sibling of the Seven, a new child of Night and Time. This, predictably, has consequences. Not that Danny really cares. He’s just here to live his life and maybe make friends with these people who’ve been at this whole ‘Endless’ thing longer than he has. And okay maybe the idea of older siblings that aren’t Jazz is an interesting prospect and maybe being accepted by someone who understands is on that list somewhere.

Oh, and there might be something about rescuing a cosmic entity in there but whose counting?

...

Teleute was not sure what she expected when she felt the new-birth bloom in the back of her mind, but it certainly was not this. Baffled, silent, she stared down at the blue eyed dark haired babe that stared back up at her from his crib--his human crib, with his human parents, in this oh-so-human world--although the babe himself did not stay silent. He cooed instead, reached up to grasp at the strands of her hair that drifted free and left Teleute wondering. This boy was incomplete, a half-thought, half-finished little idea unsure of its own nature, own designation, and yet somehow so utterly human and whole in the same moment. She could feel the edges of her father and mother that hovered there, the shape of form that was to come--but at the same time she couldn't parse it. She was not Destiny; Potmos had always been the better at them in reading souls, even the 'souls' that comprised of them and their siblings. Death was merely the comforting sight, the friend at their side all their lives until their ends--and the psychopomp who guided them thereafter.

Quietly, reservedly, Teleute reached out her hand to the babe and watched as pale fingers grasped at her tight. Already so strong, already beyond the human ability and yet only hours old...she sighed, heavy and quiet in the air. Softly, gently, Death whispered to the infant, "Do not call for me unless you area ready, little one, and even then...even then, hesitate." Carefully she pulled her finger back, watched as the babe stared at her as she backed away--as his eyes scrunched up with tears, as he began to bawl. She said as she faded from all human sight, "I will watch you, little brother to be," before she left in a flutter of wings.

For the longest moment Teleute settled herself into her role of Death and guided soul after soul to the Sunless Lands. For a moment she put out of mind the little new-birth that heralded a new brother and focused on her work and role and Function. She did not need to, Teleute knew this. She could honestly say fuck it just like the Prodigal and step away from her position and let the souls guide themselves. It is not like the world would devolve into senseless, unending, undying life if she had. Teleute was not fool enough to believe that without her life, and death, would not find a way. Once, a long, long time ago she had even debated it, back in that moment when she realized the dichotomy of her existence meant even without her direct interference it would not end. Now she worked and guided and walked among the living with passion and purpose in her role to provide some measure of comfort to those lost. She could choose to be where she wanted, after all, and she knew every soul as well as she knew herself.

When the last soul that needed a friendly face had found their way, Death settled herself down on a park bench to stare up at the stars in the sky. She did not tell her siblings that often she slipped away after a day of work to just relax and enjoy herself. She had human friends and human interactions aplenty; she took time to herself, breaks to recenter, to resettle before she went back to work. In those hours sometimes she would try to see if she could unearth her brother's whereabouts, where the Prodigal had gone and vanished off to in an effort to drop him the latest invite to dinner. Sometimes she thought back on the petty squabbles she and her siblings got into, other time she would think of those long early days when Time and Night were there and tried to act as parents to new-found concepts. They had never been good at it, but Death considered that they were the first parents to any newfound thing, really, and long decided that since they had no one else to set the bar or to learn from, perhaps they did alright in the end.

This, though--and her mind drifted back to her newest little brother--was the first time that Death had felt the touch of Time and Night since they left long before Delight became Delirium. Mania, after the remaking, had not met their parents. She did not know them the way her siblings did despite remembering them, and a part of Death hurt with the thought. Neither their mother nor father had deigned to appear when the youngest of them had been broken, twisted, and left to rot until the newest aspect of herself had reformed from the ashes. To be fair, neither did Death or her siblings either. None of them had known. Somehow, in some way, Delirium-that-was-no-longer-Delight had kept the truth of it not just from Death who should have felt it, should ha r been there, but also from Destiny, and that realization burned.

It burned with the same intensity of the Prodigal's absence, with now Dream's absence from the family dinners. Now this, a new baby brother and the fresh feel of parents that Teleute had not felt in an age. For a long moment she tilted her head back and stared at that starless expanse of a sky and wondered what this meant--should she seek out her older brother and beg him for portents? Would he even bother to tell her? Destiny had grown more and more distant in the years, and even this past dinner he did not even bother to speak as his siblings bickered around him. He sat there, nose in his book, eyes unseeing as he ate the meal that Teleute and Mania had created. She could feel Potmos draw away from them, like Dream drew away from them, like the Prodigal--like Destruction, Olethros. Their family of Endless breaking apart at the seams--or already broken. Teleute, Death, clasped her fingers tight and closed her eyes against the pain of it; she breathed.

Time settled beside her, the world held still in a moment. She didn't speak as he rested hand upon her knee. She didn't look to him, look upon him, or even move as her father grasped tight. She felt that hand upon her knee shift from impossibly ancient and thin-boned, to barely able to cover the entirety of her with his palm.

"I ask that you keep this to yourself, my little death," Time said, and Death swallowed heavily at the epithet. "He is young, right now. Too young for the machinations of your siblings."

Death's hands didn't shake, but she wished they would. Her voice remained steady as she said, soft and perhaps on the edge of bitter, "We have not seen you in an age, and this is what you ask of me?"

"Teleute...."

"Does Destiny know?" Death raised her head and stared at their father's infant-ancient face, wrapped tight in hooded cloak of the deepest shades of the night sky--rich purple hues that bordered upon black, with nebulae in their folds. A gift, he once said, from Night in the early days of their courtship.

Time stared back at her, hair aged white instead of the bright red of his youth. He said a soft, "No."

Death searched his face, lips pressed thin. She asked, "Were you even going to tell me, if I had not felt him?"

"...no," Time acquiesced, and it felt like Despair's ring had hooked into her navel to spill all that she was upon the ground. Death closed her eyes and clenched her teeth. "Teleute...."

"I do not want to hear it, father," Teleute said, and pulled her knee out of his grasp as she stood. "You will have my silence," she added, then breathed slow and measured. "I have work to do." Her wings beat at her back, and Death readied herself back to work when Time spoke up again with soft and heavy words.

"I had not meant to bring another into this life after what happened to your sister," Time said with slow words, "to my daughter. I had no intentions of ever seeing your mother again after that."

"You weren't there," Teleute said shortly.

"I am always there," Time countered softly. "I was there as Delight shattered, and there as she rebuilt herself alone. Just as I am there for Olethros, and my little Morpheus." Death stilled.

"You know where Dream is?" she asked, and her voice broke. "Has he..." she shook herself, the question burned, but then she decided she did not want to know. She was not certain she could handle the thought that Dream had decided to go the way of Destruction. With a push of her wings, Death vanished.

...

Time frowned as Teleute ran from their conversation. He felt that tightness in his chest that had been ever-present since the youngest of his seven children had such a shattering and reforming that had echoed across all time. It had driven even him to his knees, he who kept his distance in the realms between. For a long, long moment Time stayed upon the bench that Teleute had seated herself and stared out into the park just outside the hospital that housed the small form of his youngest-oldest, the eighth that his children had never known of and yet always knew--or so Time had thought, once. Perhaps that paradoxical nature of this child of his had affected more than he thought.

With a whisper-sigh Time got to his feet, and with a twist of his cloak he vanished from the park entirely. It took only a breath, a twist of the hands of a clock to appear in the room with the babe in question. He leaned against his staff, heavy hearted as he stared down into the crib to the slumbering babe. He reached with one hand and gently stroked his finger down the child's cheek, a small, bittersweet smile on his face. He could remember his other children when they were like this--small, half-formed concepts of the universe. None of them remembered the age, so assured that they had come into this world fully formed from Night's loins. Time felt no reason to disabuse them of the thought; it was amusing, and always a fond memory to look upon. He may present himself as aloof and uncaring in the way he kept from them these eons, but Time loved each of his children uniquely. He always did, even if it baffled him sometimes.

The room was filled with the smell of ozone as a tear ripped its way through Reality. Time withheld the grimace, in part thankful that Morpheus currently was incapable of feeling such a thing, even if he rarely paid attention to what he called 'the Waking' so focused on his Dreamers when they slept. It was the smallest of blessings, his third eldest child's current predicament--a blessing, in that he would be kept from this knowledge for some time yet, but also a curse. Time glanced to the side, eyes alight on Morpheus' curled up and naked form in a place far from here but here all the same. He watched the way his chest twitched with a breath it could not take given stagnant air even as Time stroked a finger down the cheek of the babe in the crib in front of him.

It was long practice that allowed him to split his attention in two ways, technically three given the sound of booted feet behind him that held just as much important as his children if only because it kept his children safe.

"Your time is up."

Time pulled his gaze from Morpheus, and then from the infant before him to glance to the figure at his back. The hood of his cloak tumbled into his eyes as he did so, narrowed as they were on the familiar and apologetic form of the creature that stood there.

"I know," Time said and slowly closed his eyes.

"I am sorry," they said back, words soft, and Time hummed a response. "Come."

For a moment Time dithered, hand pressed to the child's cheek. Then, he said almost as a whisper, "Our arrangement?"

There was no response, and Time felt something in him stutter. He had hoped he had chosen right with this one; that given they were not born to the rest, but acquired in ancient times past. He had hoped to cultivate something to aide him in the years to come--someone who would listen instead of order--

"I will not tell the Council of the child." The voice of the one-eyed, pale-skinned creature cut through Time's racing thoughts enough to calm him. "They will not hear of him, or his Endless nature, from me." There was just the slightest edge of impatience to the other, enough to pull Time away from his child with a soft breath. "We need to leave now, or else I cannot guarantee they won't discover the news as it is...."

Time bowed his head, murmured a soft, "Yes." He looked for the last time at his youngest-oldest, the child that had always been there, yet was only just-born. Heavy was the crown that would settle upon his head if all went well, and yet--and yet. Time leaned over, pressed a kiss to the baby's forehead, and whispered softly, "Rest well, Daniel. We will see each other again one day."

"Clockwork."

"I am coming, Grias," Time--Clockwork--uttered and turned to follow his Observant-attendant through the portal back to the Infinite Realms. Back in the vast emptiness of a realm just-born and as old as Clockwork himself he rolled his shoulders and looked over to Grias who scrubbed clawed hands through a head of hair with a huff. For a moment Clockwork watched them, watched how they stood there and muttered to themself for half a moment, and then sighed in relief.

Grias straightened; their silver hair fluffed up as they turned to regard the 'Master of Time' and one of the few 'Neverborne' -- cosmic entities that had long taken residence in the vastness that was the Realm Between. "We made it back just in time. They are not aware of our trip."

Clockwork nodded his head. He did not say thanks, although he felt thankful all the same. To be given that chance to see his child, to speak with another of his children he had not seen in eons--it meant more than Grias possibly knew. He let the other being settle into themself and the energies of this place and busied his attention with the clocks upon his wrist. He twisted them each so that he could return his gloves to his fingers, and then so that they were properly placed for him to see--seven, in total. He let his fingers linger upon the third of the watches before he moved on.

"Lady Nocturne is also not aware of our trip, so I will count that as a success," Grias spoke up into the silent after a moment. They glanced over to Clockwork with their single good eye, the one not hidden behind the black cloth wrap meant to hide its mangled nature.

Clockwork raised his head, lips pressed together as he stared with fathomless red eyes. "Grias, your help...."

Grias shook their head. He said a short, "You have had that child for as long as I have known you. It is...if this was to happen now of all times, then so be it."

"You did not have to agree to keep it from Nocturne," Clockwork countered softly, just the slightest bit hesitant as he stared at the other.

With a snort Grias shook their head and muttered a short, "I am not getting in the middle of whatever it is going on between you. You want to keep it secret? Fine." Clockwork inclined his head a moment later in understanding and acceptance of the words and Grias let off a heavy breath before he clasped his hands together. "Now, enough dallying, Clockwork. The Council has convened and demands your presence. Something about the Physical that needs attending. Come."

Clockwork grasped his staff and drifted off after Grias who turned and stared in the direction of the Tower. He said a soft, near placid, "As you say."

#fic: still waters run deep #fic: transitive existence #danny phantom #the sandman #fanfic #time of the endless #clockwork #death of the endless

[bluerosefox]

Assassin Heir? Crime Fighting Furry? NOPE NO THANK YOU!

"Danyal, its time to end this game and return with me."

Danny should had known Clockwork had something in mind when he sent him on this mission. He knew he should had been suspicious of the time keeper when he noticed the little 'this is going to be fun' smile on his face when he sent Danny off into the portal.

"Get back here you demon spawn 2.0!"

But how was he supposed to know that he'd wake up in this world version of himself in a pit full of corrupted (AND NASTY) ectoplasim at the tender age of five or that when he swam up to the surface he'd be meeting face to face with what was apparently a cult.

"-O just spotted him a block away! I'll try to cut itty bitty bridie off!"

An Assassins Cult his, new to him, loving yet a little insane mother was in charge of (though during the few months he stayed in the compound he heard rumors and gossip from maids and others alike that if his grandfather returned from the dead he'll take over once again, no doubt punish Talia for creating another heir after the failure of the last one, most likely was going to kill Danny and that... that was can of worms Danny didn't wanna deal with yet)

"Ten bucks says they try to stab RR when we get the feral thing home"

"...Losers bet...."

Danny had lived with his mother for a while after being brought back from the 'dead' for apparently the first time, it turned out training a five year old with an actual sword and a dumbass hidden revenge seeking teacher was a terrible idea.

"I swear if this one tries to murder me like the others I'm asking Zatanna if there is a curse on me."

He dealt with her high demands of perfection, the endless training, and the constant comparisons to his apparent older brother Damain... Who didn't know Danny, or rather Danyal existed.

Nor did his father (when Danny, using his powers he's kept hidden since 'waking' up in this Realm, he sneaked his way around the base and discovered how he came into the world. And tbh he couldn't blame his mom how she made him, she was an assassin first and foremost, being naturally pregnant would had painted a target on her for to long... but he also felt it was unfair and an asshole move on his unsuspecting father as well)

"As your elder brother I demand you to stop running!"

Now don't get him wrong, he did like his new mother (total badass assassin lady and all that) and he knew she loved him in her own... deadly way. But yeah, she really shouldn't be taking care of kids. He could tell she struggled with wanting to be a normal mother but her first instinct after so many years was to be an assassin first.

Something she was trying to engrave into Danny with as well.

"Ah, hello Beloved. I see you've learned of our Danyal."

"Talia. Back away from him and leave Gotham now."

"I can not do that. The League needs an heir and since Damian refuses to return... I have decided to create a new one and I shall not be leaving until he returns with me."

"Talia."

Hence why when Danny, or rather Danyal al Ghul had gotten decent control over his powers he decided to leave the League. Again nothing wrong with the life his mom leads, to each their own, but he... really, really didnt want to be an assassin. Or an assassin heir.

So here he was, after almost a year on the run, using his powers and training to out smart and out maneuver his mother and her many band of Assassins, in Gotham. One of the last places he ever wanted to run to cause he knew his father and brother lived here.

It was just his luck that his mother had managed to intercept his train ride that passed into Gotham for a few hours and forced him to run into the city...

Add her assassins into the mix and running into Robin, who heard from Oracle his mother had been spotted chasing a young boy across the city, that same night.

After that it became a full on "catch me if you can" chase for not only his mother but for the batclan as well.

And after two whole days of chase, it seemed like the final showdown was about to begin because everyone was on top of this rooftop, his mother and her assassins on one side, his father and the batclan on the other and Danny well... he was right in the middle of all of it.

He just had to hope no one would notice him once the fighting started...

#danny phantom #danny fenton #dp x dc #blue rambles #crossover #writing ideas #random idea #danny phantom dc #basicly Danny is sent on a mission by CW #he wakes up in the DC version of himself in the pits after being killed and Talia tossing him in #he was created by Talia since shes head of the LOA now and needs her own heir #but she once again wants Bruce's bloodline in it so she used some leftover dna she still had #so no one knows Danny was created until he left about a year later #danny has his ghost powers since he took a dip in the pits #but had to relearn some control and kept it secret #he knows his mom would see it as 'the pits granted my heir its powers.' mindset #so hes been on the run #and didnt wanna go to Gotham cause... his dad dresses as a gaint bat #and dont get him started on the rest of the batfam #he doesnt wanna be an assassin or a crime fighting furry #in case some people didnt get it. the words being spoken happen when Danny is running all across Gotham away from those after him #guess who said what lol #i want danny to be completely independent and trying to take care of himself tbh #but hes still baby to everyone else #talia is slowy becoming a little unhinged due to being the Demon Head now #maybe due to the stress of it all? or maybe due to a curse? idk

[lovelyghst]

craving consensual somno with (slightly intoxicated) simon riley and his (extremely heavy sleeper) girl. take this as ur warnings.

just him coming home late at night as usual, the bourbon in his system keeping him loosened up and tranquil, yet ever so cognizant as he enters your shared bedroom. those familiar creepy-crawlies invading his stomach with boyish excitement to see you, and quickly turning towards his dick when he lays eyes on your pretty body.

it’s nearly a routine at this point; you purposely fall asleep in these skimpy, two-piece pajamas, usually some sort of small berries, cherries, or flowers adorning the thin, white fabric that leaves little to the imagination, knowing it’ll get him all worked up. the curtains are left pulled and the door cracked open, you kick the covers off and lay with a pillow hugged tightly in your arms beneath you to give him the best view; infinite signs telling him you want it just as bad as he does. it is routine, but it gets so him riled up, each and every time.

he trudges over, as quietly as the tipsy man can manage to the end of your bed, and with tunnel-vision on your exposed thighs. even his jaw fallen slack just a bit in hunger. desperate to get his hands on you after being apart for so long, and wanting to soothe that ache in his cock he hadn’t even realized he was palming through his jeans.

you barely stir when he kneels on the foot of the bed, and neither when he crawls above you and places a kiss right behind your ear.

he presses a cold palm to your shoulder, attempting to urge you onto your back to give him a visual of your features. to let him see your curves in the raw moonlight, how the dainty material of your pajamas becomes a tad bit see-through around your tits and incidentally rides up past your bellybutton, endless thoughts running through his dazed mind as he eventually manages to flip you over successfully.

though, your sleepy hum suddenly alerts him to a standstill, his worst nightmare being to wake you from your serene rest. not now, anyway.

“shhh, sweetheart,” he gently coaxes you, and he can’t help the grin spanning his lips when you mumble the first syllable of his name in that questioning, dreamy tone. he clears fallen hair from your face, slipping his pillow from your grasp as he mutters, “yeah, dovie, s’only me. you’re okay, you’re safe… jus’ go back to sleep for me, now.”

your unconscious mind obeys like clockwork, the smallest of smiles curling your lip corners in contentment, and it’s only a matter of seconds before he’s returning to his endeavors.

kissing all across your exposed collarbone, thoughtlessly slipping a finger or two beneath the strap of your little pajama shirt and carefully allowing it to glide down your shoulder as he repeats the process on the other side. peppering kisses to your soft skin, before rolling the fabric upward from the bottom so he can properly pay attention to the rest of your chest and tummy.

lips grazing your sternum with short, controlled breaths fanning your sensitive parts; aware of how easily ticklish you are and attempting not to light that fuse, equally straining himself in not turning too feverish as he takes your hardened nipple in his mouth and paws at the other in his hand.

he works his way down slowly but surely, until he’s pulling your shorts off with tender hands and unveiling your bare, soaked pussy, and he can’t even think to suppress the low groan pushed from his lungs at the sight in front of him. he inches forward with nearly crossed eyes, taking incisive ministrations in lifting your legs up and over his back.

your breathing hitches a bit in your slumber when he licks an almost reluctant yet long stripe from your hole to your clit, unable to give himself a moment to savor it before he’s diving back in for more.

“missed this pretty, little cunt on my tongue, baby… christ,” he chuckles lightly to himself, “good girl’s gonna be the death o’ me.”

he sloppily makes-out with your pussy, any and all devotions of rhythm and precision thrown far from his intentions. he only gets to be selfish when he has you like this, and he’d be damned if he doesn’t take advantage of the opportunity as it’s laid out on his bed. moaning at your wetness and taste, how your pussy drools for more and coats his chin with a slick he devours like a madman deprived.

the small whines you make in your sleep are nothing but precious to simon, burning them into his brain like any other occasion he’s pulled them from your lips. saving them for the later times like when he’s a thousand miles away, locked away in some office, and can’t possibly bring himself to bother you with a pestering, horny phone call.

you turn your head to the side with a hum, empty hands reaching for any semblance of comfort on your abdomen, which rather concerns him for a moment until he realizes just what you want.

he gives you one of his hands and you blindly accept it, wrapping your smaller fingers around his wrist and thumb to pull the appendage closer. resting just below your ribcage, satisfied and holding it close like you would a teddy bear.

“sweet thing… always loved this perfect pussy,” he mumbles right up against your warmth, quiet as to not disrupt your blissful obliviousness in your sleep. he’s utterly drunk on you and your taste, and the alcohol he had beforehand certainly contributes to his filthy, forward language.

“how easy y’get on my mouth, ‘nd yet how tight you are around my cock… fuckin’ hell—”

he watches intently as the tips of his fingers delve between your folds, gradually disappearing whilst your chest begins to heave a little heavier; a faint, broken noise of pleasure omitting straight from your throat. tightening around his digits as he pushes them further in, just as you do wrapped around his cock when you’re conscious.

he’s not thinking straight; he’s merely experimenting with you as he curls his fingers upward, prodding at that gummy spot in your cunt and greedily sucking on your clit to push you over. toying with you, rather, because the face you make when you’re first emerged from your slumber with a mind-shattering orgasm is truly priceless.

your eyes snap open as you come around his digits, squeezing his hands tight with your vision going blank. the high is strong but you don’t allow it to last very long when the dots in your brain are connecting, turning you all excited for the implications of it all.

erratically catching your breath with a huge grin on your face, matching his as he comes up to greet you. he’s stupid, shamelessly drunk on your taste, and it radiates from his expression as if he just witnessed a star being born right before his muddy eyes.

you haven’t a clue what just happened, but you fucking loved every sober second of it.

and before you know it, he’s coming back up to meet your lips with his own, which you graciously accept, taste of slick and alcohol and all. humming as he slips his greedy hands upward and behind your back, giggling when he impatiently flips over on his back and hauls you with him. til you’re curled up by his side, halfway on his chest whilst one leg slips between both of his bulky ones.

“i‘m glad you’re home…” nearly a pout, “really missed you, si.”

you’re the first one to speak, quietly, sincere as ever as you examine his pretty face. the faint bags beneath his lids, the wetness that sticks to his dirty-blond stubble. his rough and gruff exterior that hides behind it a boy who’s absolutely and utterly whipped for you.

“that right?” he taunts, eyes remaining shut. “and my tongue, i bet?”

you shy away with a laugh. he won’t remember these words in the morning, but you’ve always loved how cocky and brazen he gets with a couple of drinks running through his blood.

“i missed all of you...”

his eyes barely have to open for him to effectively, and lovingly, judge you with a mere glance. it’s one of his talents.

“some parts more than others, clearly.”

“that’s not true,” you contest, but the humorous hesitancy and sheepishness in your voice tells him otherwise.

“sure, baby, sure.” he takes a moment to breathe, overtly proud of himself. “y’missed my mouth, n’ my hands. even with how rough they are with ya sometimes, yeah?” you hide your flushed face in his neck with a groan, praying this embarrassment is short-lived though preparing for the worst as you feel his lips inch closer to your ear.

“prob’ly missed me fuckin’ my cock into that tight, little cunt—”

“okay, fine!” you finally admit and pull away defensively, slapping his chest but only earning a laugh from him. “but i definitely don’t miss that dirty brain of yours, you big dog.”

“you love me anyway,” he states, matter-of-factly.

you give a big smooch to his forehead, then the bridge of his nose, and then down to his lips, which he returns.

“i do. a lot,” you add and he hums, feeling fulfilled.

and, oh, he’s so fulfilled with you. you take care of him by allowing him to take care of you, and it’s a two-way street. you ground each other whilst never forcing one to tether themself to earth.

you sit up to fix your top, smoothing over the fabric and shrugging the straps back into place. shimmying back into your shorts when you catch a glimpse of the large man’s dark jeans contrasting your light sheets, belt buckle glimmering in the corner of your eye.

“simon, honey, you need to change before you—”

you look over and are suddenly forced to stifle a giggle when you discover that the poor man has fallen asleep, a droopy smile still ornamenting his slick-covered face. taking your hand and swiping the apple of his cheek with your thumb, you’re pleased when he doesn’t budge one bit. dragging it downwards past his muscled chest and abdomen, landing just beneath his leather belt.

your fingertips trace his hard-on over the jeans, knowing you can’t just leave him like this, all aching and pent up and too exhausted to do anything about it himself.

maybe you could do him a favor and return the sweet gesture? <3

#i got carried away #cod mw #simon riley #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x female reader #ghost x female reader #simon riley smut #ghost smut

[phantom-phortune]

This is why you don't sleep with the Tyrant King - The consequence is children

Constantine avoids involvement with the Infinite Realms for two reasons.

Who wants to deal with all those Ancients in the first place?

He’s avoiding yet another unhinged ex of his.

Of course, hooking up with Pariah Dark wasn’t really an actual relationship, more like a one night stand via dream walking (Nocturn owed Pariah, but seeing as it would be insane to release the Tyrant King from his endless sleep, he’d give him a dream partner every couple centuries) - regardless, Constantine doesn’t want to deal with that.

So yeah - the fact that the Justice League is attempting to summon the High King into the Watchtower has him wanting to drink more than usual.

Of course he gave warnings, but they’re dead set on doing so. A green folder had appeared in the secure “cursed artifacts” vault with no trace of whoever left it there. How else were they gonna find out how it got there?

So Constantine’s stuck there to set up wards, and is trying to find his way out of this one.

When the summoning circle worked, no one expected the teenager to pop out of it. 

Instead of Pariah Dark, or even the sarcophagus showing up, there was a white haired ghost boy with glowing green eyes the same color as the flames of the Crown of Fire. Except he didn’t look exactly like the others ghosts. He had a human skin tone, his proportions were exactly like a human teenager’s, and he was wearing a black and white hoodie with black sweatpants, for God’s sake. 

… Were ghosts able to reproduce with humans?

Before any of the Justice League can get into questioning, Constantine speaks up:

“You’re not the Ghost King.”

Green eyes settle on him, lighting up with recognition - Danny knows exactly who this is, with the amount of complaints on his desk about the blonde. Clockwork also informed him (he didn’t want to know but now he does) of the man’s stint with Pariah. 

Daniel “Commit to the bit” Fenton chooses to do just that.

“Of course not,” The confusion crosses the face of the heroes present- “That’s just because I haven’t had my coronation yet! I’m the Crown Prince, it’s practically the same thing!”

Oh, and the dread and realization crossing Constantine’s face is almost enough to make his core purr in amusement. 

“Now I will gladly answer all your questions, but first!” His eyes swept over the heroes before raising his hand and pointing accusingly at the British warlock.

“John Constantine,” his voice boomed, the temperature of the meeting room dropping as his face stretched with a smile too big and too pointy, “You owe me fifteen years of child support.”

#dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #dp x dc prompt #ghost king danny #dpxdc #danny phantom #danny fenton #JL: scandalized gasp #Bruce is either going to berate Constantine or give Danny all the money he wants