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confessedlyfannish · 24 days

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Writing Prompt #12

Bruce is reading the paper when the pour of Tim's coffee goes abruptly quiet. It would be hard to pinpoint why this is disturbing if it wasn't for the way the soft, tinny sound the vent system in the manor makes cuts out for the first time since being updated in the 90s. The pour, Bruce realizes, has not slowed to a trickle before stopping. It has simply stopped. And there is no overeager clack of a the mug against the marble counter or the uncouth first slurp (nor muttered apology at Alfred's scolding look) immediately following the end of the pour.

Bruce fights the instinct to use all of his senses to investigate, and instead keeps his eyes on the byline of the article detailing the latest set of microearthquakes to hit the midwest in the last week. Microearthquakes aren't an unusual occurrence and aren't noticeable by human standards, which is why this article is regulated to page seven, but from several hundred a day worldwide to several hundred a day solely in the East North Central States, seismologists are baffled.

Bruce had been considering sending Superman to investigate under the guise of a Daily Planet article requested by Bruce Wayne (Wayne Industries does have an offshoot factory in the area) when everything had stopped twenty seconds ago. That is what he assumes has happened (having not moved a muscle to confirm) in the amount of time he assumes has passed. His million dollar Rolex does not quite audibly tick but in the absolute silence it should be heard, which confirms the silence to be exactly that—absolute.

While Bruce can hold his breath with the best of the Olympian swimmers, he has never accounted for a need to remain without blinking without being able to move one's eyes. Rotating the eyeballs will maintain lubrication such that one could go without blinking for up to ten minutes. But staring at the byline fixedly, he estimates another twenty seconds before tears start to form.

These are the thoughts Bruce distracts himself with, because he doesn't dare consider how Tim and Alfred haven't made a (living) sound in the past forty-five seconds. About Damian, packing his bag upstairs for school after a morning walk with Titus that was "just pushing it, Master Damian".

There is a knife to his right, if memory serves (it does). In the next five seconds—

"Your wards and guardian are fine, Mr. Wayne," the deepest voice Bruce has ever heard intones. For a dizzying moment, it is hard to pinpoint the location of the voice, for it comes from everywhere—like the chiming of a clocktower whilst inside the tower, so overpowering he is cocooned in its volume.

But it is not spoken loudly, just calmly, and when he puts the paper down, folds it, and looks to his right, a blue man sits in Dick's chair.

He wears a three piece suit made entirely of hues of violet, tie included. He has a black brooch in the shape of a cogwheel pinned to his chest pocket, a simple chain clipped to his lapel. Black leather gloves delicately thumb Bruce's watch (no longer on his wrist, somewhere between second 45 and 46 it has stopped being on his wrist), admiring it.

"You'll forgive me," the man says with surety. "Clocks are rather my thing, and this is an impressive piece." He turns it over and reveals the 'M. Brando' roughly scratched into the silver back. He frowns.

"What a shame," he says, placing it face side up on the table.

"Most would consider that the watch's most valuable characteristic." Bruce says, voice steady, hands neatly folded before him. Two inches from the knife. To his left, there is an open doorway to the kitchen. If he turns his head, he might be able to get a glance of Tim or Alfred.

He doesn't look away from the man.

"It is the arrogance of man," the man says, raising red eyes (sclera and all) to Bruce, "to think they can make their mark on time."

"...Is that supposed to be considered so literally?" Bruce asks, with a light smile he does not mean.

The man smiles lightly back, eyes crinkling at the corners. He looks to be in his mid thirties, clean-shaven. His skin is a dull blue, his hair a shock of white, and a jagged scar runs through one eye and curving down the side of his cheek, an even darker, rawer shade of blue-purple.

The man turns the watch back over and taps at the engraving. "Let me ask you this," he says. "When we deface a work of art, does it become part of the art? Does it add to its intrinsic meaning?"

Bruce forces his shoulders to shrug. "It's arbitrary," he says. "A teenager inscribes his name on the wall of an Ancient Egyptian temple and his parents are forced to publicly apologize. But runic inscriptions are found on the Hagia Sophia that equate to an errant Viking guard having inscribed 'Halfdan was here' and we consider it an artifact of a time in which the Byzantine Empire had established an alliance with the Norse and converted vikings to Christianity."

"The vikings were as errant as the teenager," the man says, "in my experience." He leans back in his chair. "I suppose you could say the difference is time. When time passes, we start to think of things as artistic, or historical. We find the beauty in even the rubble, or at least we find necessity in the destruction..."

He offers Bruce the watch. After a moment, Bruce takes it.

"The problem, Mr. Wayne, is that time does not pass for me. I see it all as it was, as it is, as it ever will be, at all times. There is no refuge from the horror or comfort in that one day..." he closes his hand, the leather squeaking. And then his face smooths out, the brief severity gone. He regards Bruce calmly.

"You can look left, Mr. Wayne."

Bruce looks left. Framed by the doorway, Tim looks like a photograph caught in time. A stream of coffee escapes the spout of the stainless steel pot he prefers over the Breville in the name of expediency, frozen as it makes its way to the thermos proclaiming BITCH I MIGHTWING. Tim regards his task with a face of mindless concentration, mouth slack, lashes in dark relief against his pale skin as he looks down at the mug. Behind him, Bruce can see Alfred's hand outstretched towards the refrigerator handle, equally and terrifyingly still.

"My name is Clockwork," the man says. "I have other names, ones you undoubtedly know, but this one will be bestowed upon me from the mouth of a child I cherish, and so I favor it above all else. I am the Keeper of Time."

"What do you want from me?" Bruce asks, shedding Wayne for Batman in the time it takes to meet Clockwork's eyes. The man acknowledges the change with a greeting nod.

"In a few days time, you will send Superman to the Midwest to investigate the unusual seismic activity. By then, it will be too late, the activity will be gone. They will have already muzzled him."

"Him."

"There is a boy with the power to rule the realm I come from. Your government has been watching him. The day he turned 18, they took him from his family and hid him away. I want you to retrieve him. I want you to do it today."

"Why me?"

"His parents do not have the resources you do, both as Batman and Bruce Wayne. You will dismantle the organization that is keen on keeping him imprisoned, and you will offer him a scholarship to the local University. You and yours will keep him safe within Gotham until he is able to take his place as my King."

This is a lot of information to take in, even for Bruce. The idea that there could be a boy powerful enough to rule over this (god, his mind whispers) entity and that somehow, he has slipped under all of their radars is as frustrating as it is overwhelming. But although Clockwork has seemed willing to converse, he doesn't know how many more questions he will get.

"You have the power to stop time," he decides on, "why don't you rescue him? Would he not be better suited with you and your people?"

"Within every monarchy, there is a court," Clockwork. "Mine will be unhappy with the choice I have made," he looks at Bruce's watch, head cocked. "In different worlds, they call you the Dark Knight. This will be your chance to serve before a True King."

Bruce bristles. "I bow to no one."

"You'll all serve him, one day," Clockwork says, patiently. "He is the ruler of realms where all souls go, new and old. When you finally take refuge, he will be your sanctuary." He frowns. "But your government rejects the idea of gods. All they know is he is other. Not human. Not meta. A weapon."

"A weapon you want me to bring to my city."

"I believe you call one of your weapons 'Clark', do you not?" Clockwork asks idly. "But you misunderstand me. They seek to weaponize him. He is not restrained for your safety, but for their gain."

"And if I don't take him?" Bruce asks, because a) Clockwork has implied he will be at the very least impeded, at worst destroyed over this, and b) he never did quite learn not to poke the bear. "You won't be around if I decide he's better off with the government."

"You will," Clockwork says, with the same certainty he's wielded this entire conversation. "Not because he is a child, though he is, nor because you are good, though you are, nor even because it is better power be close at hand than afar.

"I have told you my court will be unhappy with me. In truth, there are others who also defend the King. Together we will destroy the access to our world not long after this conversation. The court will be unable to touch him, but neither will we as we face the repercussions for our actions. I am telling you this, because in a timeline where I do not, you think I will be there to protect him. And so when he is in danger, even subconsciously, you choose to save him last, or not at all. And that is the wrong choice.

"So cement it in your head, Bruce Wayne," the man says, "You will go to him because I tell you to. And you will keep him safe until he is ready to return to us. He will find no safety net in me. So you will make the right choice, no matter the cost."

"Or, when our worlds connect again, and they will," his voice now echoes in triplicate with the voices of the many, the young, the old, Tim, Bruce's mother, Barry Allen, Bruce's own voice, "I will not be the only one who comes for you."

"Now," he says, producing a Wayne Industries branded BIC pen. "I will tell you the location the boy is being kept, and then I would like my medallion back, please. In that order."

Bruce glances down and sees a golden talisman, attached to a black ribbon that is draped haphazardly around the neck of his bathrobe, so light (too light, he still should have—) he has not felt its weight until this moment.

Bruce flips the paper over, takes the pen, and jots down the coordinates the being rattles off over the face of a senator. By his calculation, they do correspond with a location in the midwest.

"You will find him on B6. Take a left down the hallway and he will be in the third room down, the one with a reinforced steel door. Take Mr. Kent and Mr. Grayson with you, and when you leave take the staircase at the end of the hallway, not the elevator."

The man gets up, dusts off his impeccably clean pants, and offers him a hand to shake.

"We will not meet again for some time, Mr. Wayne."

Bruce looks at the creature, stands, and shakes his hand. It feels like nothing. The Keeper of Time sighs, although nothing has been said.

"Ask your question, Mr. Wayne."

"I have more than one."

"You do," Clockwork says. "But I have heard them all, and so they are one. Please ask, or I will not be inclined to answer it."

"What does this boy mean for the future, that you are willing to sacrifice yourself for him?"

There is a pause.

"So that is the one," Clockwork says, after a time. "Yes. I see. I should resolve this, I suppose."

"Resolve what?"

"It is not his future I mean to protect," the man says. "It is his present."

"You want to keep him safe now..." Bruce says, but he's not sure what the being is trying to say.

"I am not inclined," Clockwork repeats, stops. His expression turns solemn, red eyes widening. In their reflection, Bruce can see something. A rush of movement too quick to make heads or tails of, like playing fast forward on a videotape. "Superman reports no signs of unusual seismic activity. With nothing further to look into, you let it go in favor of other investigative pursuits. You do not find him, as you are not meant to. He stays there. His family, his friends, they cannot find him. His captors tell him they have moved on. He does not believe them, until he does. He stays there. He stays there until he is strong enough to save himself."

Clockwork speaks stiffly, rattling off the chain of events as if reading a Justice League debrief. "He is King. He will always be King. He is strong, and good, and compassionate, and he is great for my people because yours have betrayed his trust beyond repair. He throws himself into being the best to ever Be, because there is nothing Left for him otherwise. We love him. We love him. We love him. My King. Forevermore."

The red film in his eyes stall out, and Bruce is forced to look away from how bright the image is, barely making out a silhouette before they dull back to their regular red.

"I am not inclined," Clockwork says slowly, "To this future."

"Because of what it means in the present," Bruce finishes for him. "They're not just imprisoning him, are they."

"They will have already muzzled him."

Clockworks is right in front of him faster than he can process, fist gripping the medallion at his neck so tight he now feels the ribbon digging into his skin.

"Unlike you, Mr. Wayne," and for the first time, the god is angry, and the image of it will haunt Bruce for the rest of his life, "I do not believe in building a better future on the back of a broken child."

"Find him," the deity orders, and yanks the necklace so hard the ribbon rips—

Clack!

"sluuuuurp!"

"Master Timothy, honestly!"

"Sorry Alfred!"

#i feel like I'm going to reread this and want to add other stuff #but I also just want to post it and get it out there #fun fact i scribbled a bunch of lines down at 2am bc i didn't want to forget them #im bad at multiple drafts #my writing #dp x dc #dp x dc au #dp x dc prompt #dp x dc crossover #danny phantom #batman #i live to make everybody dramatic #but also i subscribe to a world where clockwork doesn't know how NOT to be dramatic #lol he's a ghost from all of time he doesn't know how to speak to humans and tailor it to the century let alone the decade #and his favorite little girl who calls him clocky loves how he speaks so #he doesn't need to change for nobody #nor feels inclined to #also I feel like as god he's way more inclined to threaten to get what he wants than like...be vulnerable #jazz: let's unpack that #clockwork: we never do #jazz: are you saying that because it's true or because that's what you want to be true?#clockwork: ...#also I cannot take credit for BITCH I MIGHTWING #wish i could #that is cash money right there #shoutout to 11thsense

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magpie-trinkets · 13 days

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continuing that "maya tries to contact claire" post, i present you the post-Spirit of Justice follow-up

#post that caters to ME specifically #let me first tag #ghost trick spoilers #lost future spoilers #now that that's out of the way. you know who's on that suitcase ;)#also claire is fucked up by time travel shenanigans so it's possible let's just say #also ghost powers grow and change with time sooooo. let's play with canon #layton “i have a dead girlfriend” and yomiel “i had a dead girlfriend” bisexuals #also yes the whole gang traveled to london they're just strolling around #maya had unfinished business and now that she's more powerful she's BACK #this would take place 7-or-so years after lost future/plvspw so layton is in his mid-forties here. i had to look it so correct me if im not #also yes this is a crossover AU i have rotating in my mind i love the source material and layton's and claire whole thing no shade to that #powerful narrative that made me cry #but with aa and gt magic fuckery we have the technology #also about the jail bit. that's a fic i am writing (one sentence every month)#ghost trick #professor layton #ace attorney #my art #ms paint #GOD. that wall of text is surely something

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ikemengoessbrrrrr · 2 years

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Crossover but only 12'Leo with the Rise bros

*Mom mode activated*

#I have a headcanon about 12'Leonardo loves cute things #not in 'I love it because its cute :)'#but more like. 'OH MY GOD ITS SO CUTE I'M GOING TO CRY'#Let's just say he adores cute things/creatures in parent way(??) shshhshs #tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt leonardo #rise of tmnt #tmnt 2012 #rottmnt #leonardo #crossover

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choccy-milky · 2 months

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‘Who catches who now?’

I really wanted to draw Clora in my art style and found the idea of them being in Alice in wonderland cute. Hope you like it. ^^ 🐇✨

AHH OMG I LOVE IT!! THANK YOU!!!😭💖💖its so cute you inspired me to draw more of it😭😭

clora as alice already works so good but i love your role reversal of the white rabbit chasing HER instead of the other way around BAHAHHA. THANK YOU AGAIN I LOVE IT SO MUCH CLORA IS SO CUTE IN YOUR STYLE AND I LOVE HOW YOU DREW SEB AS WELL!!💖🥹

#im just imagining this as a play and cloras trying to chase seb but he just keeps letting her catch him or he starts chasing her instead #STICK TO THE SCRIPT SALLOW GOD DAMMIT LMAO #ask #LOVE THIS SO MUCH #reminds me of the ouran highschool host club episode. alice in wonderland crossovers are always amazing tbh #i would have put seb as the cheshire cat but thats TOO OBVIOUS this is much better and funnier BAHHA #choccyart #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow

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radiance1 · 4 months

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Vlad has been asleep for a few centuries now, in a goddamn coffin that he specifically made just for that like the weird rich person he is. He was also, the phoenix king.

Or at the very least, one of them.

Honestly, Danny couldn't give less of a flying cheerio how long Vlad would sleep for if it wasn't an inconvenience to it.

But it was.

You see, he's the ghost prince, prince of the infinity realms, dragon of infinity, son of war and ward of time, etc, etc.

And somehow, he has bloody paperwork.

Even though the Infinite Realms fell into Anarchy eons ago.

So he honestly doesn't know why he has paperwork, and it's so much that Danny has been spending centuries doing it and he's so tired of it and then he remembered, hey? Who likes can do mountains of paperwork without breaking a sweat and could finish this way better than Danny could?

Vlad Masters.

Hasn't seen the guy after his mother died, don't know where exactly he is, but he isn't in his lair (yes Danny managed to get in, don't ask how) and Danny is going to find this man by the Ancients because he cannot deal with those anymore.

He barely even made a dent!

Anyways, so Danny goes over to Earth because he hasn't been there for a hot minute, and that's probably where Vlad is and uh, woah there is this really Earth cause it's lookin mighty different to how he saw it last time-

Why was the Earth currently covered in flames? Black flames that look mighty familiar to someone else's that he knows actually. You know, someone who should have been sleeping the centuries away instead of, oh he doesn't know.

Taking over the mortal world?

It even seems that Vlad got himself a goddamn cult too! How neat! How much time did it take you to assemble all these people Vlad? You even gave out pieces of your power when you could've been, oh, he doesn't know.

Helping him with paperwork?

So, he's kinda mad about this, pissed, actually. So, he goes to find where exactly Vlad is in this reign of madness, finds a literal crack in reality and just heads on through because he couldn't care less about that actually.

What he finds is not what he expected.

Cause you know Vlad? Phoenix king who is probably trying to take over the mortal world instead of helping him with paperwork and was supposed to be sleeping inside a coffin?

Yea scratch that. Because that isn't a coffin.

When the hell was Vlad sleeping inside a magical barrier-

And who the heck was that spamming Vlad's signature black flames while laughing manically, and who in the infinite realms were those guys who were currently fighting said spammer.

"What exactly, in the Infinite Realms, happened while I was doing paperwork?"

===

So, the Justice League is now combating a new world ending threat. Some cult who wants to cleanse the world in the name of their deity so they could hand it to him once he reawakens.

Which, apparently, might've been around for centuries, slowly preparing for this day which, dedicated, but not the good kind of dedication really.

So, back to the fight, they're fighting this possible immortal who's been taking over the bodies of each new head of the cult for centuries and, well, he genuinely had power to back him and his cult up.

Not really a shock there, to be fair, since he claimed his powers to originate from the sleeping deity who blessed him with a portion of his power.

Vlad didn't, bro just stole a portion of his power and claimed it as a blessing lawl. Not that the cult knew that-

So the Justice League managed to break their way into the place holding said sleeping deity that also acted as the base for the cult leader and, well. Yea he truly does have the power to back himself up and, if the magic users had anything to say about, a very magically powerful deity he follows too.

So they're kinda screwed if said Deity wakes up, they don't even know when he will actually, neither did the cult leader. He just will 'eventually' which isn't as descriptive as some (read: Batman) would like.

First things first, beat up and disband the cult, figure out a way to prevent the sleeping deity's awakening later.

So they were fighting a battle (shocker I know) with their forces spread between their world and the pocket dimension and things weren't looking quite as good as they hoped. Lots of causalities, both civilians, heroes and even villains alike, a whole lot of magic and powers being thrown about and the monologuing of the cult leader who was floating above said sleeping god.

You could even think it to be symbolic in some way, that he thinks himself above a god.

So, safe to say, in all of this chaos they weren't exactly expecting a new voice to join the fray.

"What exactly, in the Infinite Realms, happened while I was doing paperwork?"

And the owner of said voice, to be a goddamn dragon.

#dc x dp #dp x dc #dpxdc #dp x dc crossover #dcxdp #dc x dp crossover #Danny “I don't wanna do this paperwork no more” Phantom #Vlad “Sleeping for centuries cause the woman I loved and the Man I hate died and I don't care about nothing no more” Masters #Except that Vlad got found by some weird ass cult leader who was obsessed with his power and made a cult without his say so #And then also stole a portion of his power because he believed himself to be blessed by a god #A god who was and still is currently sleeping and probably doesn't even know who he is #He's also been splitting off even tinier pieces of Vlad's power to give to the followers #So yea #That's a thing #This all came about because I was imagining Dragon Danny slamming his tail into whatever Vlad is sleeping and telling him to wake up #Why? Originally no reason #but now it was for paperwork lmao

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tangentrina · 1 month

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Öufi Heathcliff and all the Bloodborne comparisons led to this being made... Say hello to our Good Hunter Heathcliff.

Will he reach his Cathy? Her condition was improving after she imbibed some of the Healing Blood, but it's been so long...

#I LOVE this game but GOD the gear is hard to draw...#limbus company #Heathcliff limbus company #Heathcliff lcb #lcb #projmoon #limbus fanart #limbus #project moon #crossover #crossover fanart #bloodborne #fanart

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cheebuss · 15 days

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Another one down, Demo will be lucky last! <3

#cheez rambles #my art #fanart #fandom character #my design #crack #crossover #warrior cats #catified #team fourtrees 2 #heavy tf2 #tf2 heavy #// i love u so much heavy tf2 #// SO CLOSE GUYS SOOO CLOSEEEE #// have had names planned for demo cates for ages tho thank god

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starry-bi-sky · 4 months

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Clone^2 Damian

If you really think about, Damian's situation in the clone^2 au is... kinda tragic? Especially in the early months of his arrival. Like,,, think about it. Damian has always known he was a clone of Damian Wayne, that he was a copy of the blood son. There was nothing 'original' about him, not even his name (of which at least Danny has that). He was just... a replacement. A disposable one, to boot.

And he knew that, to an extent, by the time he was six years old. he might not have been actively acknowledging it -- he's six years old -- but deep down he knew. And like, he's six years old. Every small child craves the love and affection of an adult, especially their parents, and even though he knew he was clone, I imagine he still considered - and still does consider, somewhat - Talia and Bruce as his mother and father. And I really doubt he was... getting it?

Now, I know Talia loves Damian, her son. At least in some interpretations she does, and in this au she does. But... a clone of her son? I'm not so certain if she would have the same affection for baby Dames as she would for Damian. I don't think she would treat him badly, but I don't think Talia would treat him warmly either. Kinda just, distant. Colder than she would have been with OG Damian.

And, I know I've mentioned Damian's arrival from Danny's point of view, and its kind of comical kind of insane from his perspective -- a little boy clone of Damian Wayne falls through a portal and immediately attacks him. That sounds like a bad joke.

But, if you think of this from Damian's point of view? It's like he just got dropped into a scary movie. Like, think about it. You're six years old, and suddenly a portal, as green and as swirling as your grandfather's pools, opens up beneath your feet and sucks you through.

After an intense bout of vertigo, you end up in a massive, urban city -- completely different from the rural mountain palace that you lived in for the last six years of your life, and in this city, you don't know any of the language. You don't know what anyone is saying, you can't read any of the signs - you are completely stranded, away from home.

And then, to make things worse, you're facing a figure with a terrifying mask and eyes as burning green as the portal you fell through. Of course Damian's first instinct, six years old, is to attack. He's terrified.

And this figure, he's not a good fighter, but he's fast, and he dodges you quickly. He grabs your sword with his hands, and tries to restrain you, saying something in a language you don't know. Naturally, Damian is just scared. He's six! He'd just be learning how to read if he was normal child going to school.

This figure halfway through the fight yanks off his mask -- he realizes you're scared -- and looking at you now, is a youthful version of your father. This is a clone of your dad, someone you have never met but, six years old, still wants to. Damian gets defensive. This is an imposter.

But this imposter eventually gets you home with him - and he's using his little box, his phone, to communicate with you through a mechanical voice speaking in arabic. and it's frustrating. The boy, the imposter, can say whatever to you just fine, but trying to talk back is a hassle and a half. He's six, he doesn't have that much patience.

He wants to go home.

And so he keeps trying to run away. He keeps trying to find out of this hellish concrete jungle, and he keeps getting lost. It's loud, and busy, and there are people talking to you and you don't understand them, and there are rules and signs you don't understand - Damian tries to cross the street and nearly gets hit by a car. He doesn't know how the road signs work, he was never taught. They didn't get to that.

And he gets lost. And it gets dark, and Damian is brave, but he is six, and this is the worst stress he's been under in all his six years of life. He wants, desperately more than anything, to go home. Why wouldn't he? The only stable... semi-stable environment he was in just got ripped out from under his feet, literally! He wants his mother.

And it's not happening.

But there's something good to be said, at least. The imposter that looks like his father always comes and finds him, no matter what. He could have left that morning, and he will find Damian at midnight, frazzled and worried, and carrying an extra jacket with him because it is cold in Amity Park and Damian is six years old.

And sometimes Damian attacks him - he's scared and stressed and he doesn't want to be here. And every time he catches the sword. Even though Damian can see it cut into his hand and pearls of blood well up and stains his fingers. Even though Damian can see him wince in pain and bite his lip, he still catches it.

But with that little box, he coaxes Damian to come back with him. It's cold, it's dark, Amity Park is unsafe at night. They can figure something out tomorrow, please. And every time, he agrees, reluctantly. And the imposter takes the extra jacket he brought with -- a flannel, a hoodie, a jacket -- and he wraps it around him. It's warm, Damian's clothes are not that thick, and even though he thinks he might hate this imposter, he still sticks close to his legs as he leads him down the street.

And sometimes the imposter carries him, because Damian's shoes are not that thick, and he cuts his foot on broken glass while they're walking home. The imposter sits in the bathroom with him and carefully cleans the cut out, and makes sure it doesn't get infected.

There's hope you know, he still has it. His mother will be looking for him. She'll be worried. He's important to them. Damian may not be the original, but he is still a blood son. He is still her son. She will come find him. This nightmare will end soon. He can go home.

And then weeks pass, and nothing. Then months, and nothing. His family is not coming for him, and it hurts. Hurts more than anything. And yet while that happens, the boy he's attacked, and hurt, teaches himself arabic in order to speak to him. He takes Damian out of the house one afternoon and buys him new clothes, or tries to. And then he keeps buying him new clothes. He gives him blankets and gives up his bed to him until they can get him one himself, and steadily he teaches Damian english.

This boy is kind. Kinder than Damian's ever experienced, and he doesn't know what to do with it. He's devastated by the fact that he is not as important to his family as his family is to him. What do you do when you're six years old and you learn something like that? When a random stranger who looks like your father is kinder to you, and cares more about you than your family did?

And then Damian tells him he's a clone. He's Damian Wayne's clone, and he tells him his purpose - that their grandfather made him to kill him. And the boy, the imposter, Damian thinks he probably already knows that he's a clone. But he doesn't say that. He just nods, and asks him if he wants to tell his original about him.

Damian says no. He doesn't want to. He's tired of living in the shadow of his original. He wants to keep this to himself. This is his. For once, all of this is his.

And to his surprise, the imposter doesn't try and convince him otherwise. He just nods, and says okay. And when Damian asks why, the imposter - his brother - looks at him and says.

"I don't care about Damian Wayne. I care about you." And in Damian's gobsmacked silence, his brother continues. He tells him that if Damian doesn't want to tell his original that he exists, then they don't need to. They don't need to worry about the LoA going after him, because clearly if his 'grandfather' needs to make a clone of Damian in order to take him out, then whatever it was that Damian Wayne was doing to keep himself safe, was working.

"Wayne already has people in his corner, he's got Gotham's army of vigilantes to keep himself safe." his brother says with his eyes as blue as moonlight. "You, however. Do not." And he continues, and says that if Damian Wayne has the same training as Damian does, then he will be fine. He doesn't need to be aware of his clone. Because if DW doesn't know about Damian, then the LoA doesn't either.

And here's the thing. Damian would not have survived in the LoA for long. Not as a clone. No matter what, he was going to die no matter what he did, and sooner rather than later. The sword of Damocles was always hanging above his head in the League of Assassins.

That portal, and meeting Danny, saved his life. There's no way around it. And to an extent Damian knows this even at six years old. He may not be aware that he would've died, but he knows that meeting Danny was the best thing to happen to him.

It's no wonder after that, that Damian is as clingy to Danny as he is. Danny is the first person he's met to offer him unconditional love, with no strings attached, only pure affection.

#dpxdc #dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #dpdc #dpxdc crossover #clone^2 #like god can you imagine how scared he must've been? how afraid? he just wants his mom - only to realize he doesnt even matter to her #dpxdc au #danny fenton is not the ghost king #this poor kid man. no wonder he latched onto danny the moment he gave up on the league like a leech. he's a six year old kid man and #it doesnt matter how smart he is or how mature he acts. he still is six years old. he still needs that validation and affection from adults #or from people older than him. and his emotional needs were just not being met in the league.#cue the song “two” from sleeping at last - some of their songs are very clone^2 honestly.#'sweetheart you look a little tired. when did you last eat? come in and make yourself right at home. stay as long as you need.'#'tell me is something wrong? if something's wrong you can count on me'#'its okay if you can't find the words. let me take your coat and this weight off of your shoulders'#'like a force to be reckoned with. am i the ocean or a gentle kiss. i will love you with every single thing i have'#'like a tidal wave i'll make a mess. or calm waters if that serves you best'#'i will love you without any strings attached'#like just. just *imagine* being in damian's shoes during all of this. he's *six* you guys. i've worked with six year olds and they're #pretty independent but they're still six. they get excited when they see their parents and they get upset when an adult is angry with them.#they're still developing their motor skills. they're still developing everything else!

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forgetful-nerd · 8 months

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I love it when the older iterations of TMNT are aged up in crossover fanfictions, and they just see their younger counterparts and are like:

And it’s even funnier when 2012!TMNT meet their Rise! Counterparts and suddenly the shoe is on the other foot like:

It’s the circle of life. Each younger iteration are babies in the eyes of the older ones.

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keii · 2 months

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JJK (Toji & Mahito) x I Saw the Devil (K-Movie) Crossover

#jujutsu kaisen #toji fushiguro #mahito #i randomly rewatched this movie a couple of days ago and i instantly just wanted to make a crossover w toji... can u see it...#i can see it..#also chose mahito to be the main antagonist bc yea...#remember watching this movie the first time w sushi and oh my god.... it was good but omg so many uncomfortable scenes #so be warned if u decide to check this movie out as well #also wanted to practice more lighting and background stuff #even tho the bg was so hasty LOL thank god csp got a leaf brush #been talking w friends how gege should make a side story that's toji focused about his life before dying LOL please...#i would love to see his ass sleep around and be a deadbeat #just wanna know MORE but gege... hates us LOL #last time i did a crossover was my mystic messenger x train to busan... that was in 2017 and they look terrible LOL #art #jjk #jjk toji #fanart #artists on tumblr #killamonart #i saw the devil

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aro-arttorneys · 2 months

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Babey I’m cooking

Currently designing a bunch of designs for a Very VERY specific crossover that appeals to like 3 people including me. The storyline is practically the same as Super Paper Mario, with some changes regarding character dynamic and cause -> effect events.

I am having a LOT of fun drawing these! I'm nearly done with the rest of the main cast. Might do a masterpost or just a Big Ramble about this AU/Crossover at some point teehee

#nickie should actually be Nikki now but I can't be bothered saving and reuploading the same drawing again #he will be referred to as Nikki for the most part #the beings that don't get an AA character assigned will be the pixls. they're just still the Pixls lol #GOD idk man I'm back into SPM hell after someone mentioned it #been replaying the story and god I love this game so so much #and something about Blumiere and Timpani also reminds me of Nrmt #even though they have nothing in common? i think it's the 'they would act similar if they were in each others' stories'#super paper mario #ace attorney #miles edgeworth #phoenix wright #maya fey #dahlia hawthorne #iris hawthorne #niche crossover be upon ye #SPMAAAU

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tumbling-darkling · 2 years

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The candles in the circle flared a bright and brilliant green, the lines of the blood drawn circle lighting up the same hue as Nightwing and the bats of Gotham were held back by the cultists.

They were too late.

For weeks, there had been a series of disappearances and summons, monsters of various kinds being brought into Gotham and causing death and destruction. While the Gotham knights had been able to quickly locate and fight the creatures coming through, they weren’t easy battles. The beasts had unique power sets, each one showing different kinds of abilities in powerful ways.

They also were aware that all of the beasts were connected based on a common ability they all shared otherwise: they all held abilities similar to martians. While each creature they took down had unique abilities, they all shared the ability to fly, turn invisible, or go through solid objects. The knights had been lucky that the intangibility was not permanent, that the creatures needed to be solid to land hits, and with precise timing could eventually be taken down.

Red Robin had been able to analyze the first beast the group encountered and create a containment cell that the creatures couldn’t phase through, but it had taken a lot of time and effort, as well as a few escaped beasts when they also realized they needed something else to limit their extended abilities after the beasts tore apart the cell through other means.

The bats were exhausted, and had only recently managed to find the source, but it was too late by the time they located the cultists. Based on the information they gathered, they had been building up what was described as ‘ectoplasm’ in the area with all the summonings, their end goal being to summon a supposed ‘Pariah Dark’. A king of ghosts. Tyrant of the undead. They believed that by giving the ghost king Gotham, he would reshape the living world into a paradise and spare them the fire he would use to rebirth the planet.

It was insane.

And the bats were too late.

The cultist were aware that the bats where on their tail, they set up traps and percautions, all of Nightwings brothers and sisters were incapacitated or trapped, even Batman had been restrained in the middle of the circle. ‘A knight as a sacrifice’ the cultists had whispered.

Was this it?

Was he going to watch his father die and be unable to stop it?

This couldn’t be it…

It couldn’t!

The bright green lights began to get more intense, so much that Nightwing couldn’t look directly at the circle any longer.

Then the light snapped off, a blast of mist erupting from the circle and shrouding the room, dropping the temperature and even leaving frosty tips on clothes and hair. Nightwing carefully focused on the circle, expecting Batman to be nothing more than pieces and a beast to stand over him, blood ok it’s maw as it got ready to burn the world down to ash.

Instead, he spotted two shadowed figures within the mist, Batman still recognizable in a similar position as before, and a lankier figure… floating above him.

Then the mist blasted away as if a huge gust of wind chased it from the centre of the room… and revealed his older brother being the floating figure.

Daniel James Fenton, originally Daniel James Grayson, was floating above Batman with a hand outstretched, a very surprised look on his face as he made eye contact with Nightwing.

He looked like how he always looked, his hair an absolute mess of tangles that was pushed to the side, pale blue eyes like crystals that held both kindness and a hidden danger within them, a NASA hoodie covered in holes from being constantly worn, torn jeans with dark stains, and rough hands that belonged to a fighter. All packed into a 6’4 lanky giraffe of a man, who sometimes looked more like the wind could knock him over based on his horrible eating habits. Danny had been raised away from Dick, and he only discovered he had an older brother about 8 years ago, reconnecting with him and slowly building a bond with him and his older sister.

But he never knew his brother was some sort of Meta.

Danny glanced down at Batman, then back up to Nightwing, and finally his eyes trailed to the rest of the restrained Bats, “Either this is a weird dream or someone tried to do something stupid.”

“Oh great, who messed up the summoning circle?” One of the cultists complained, catching Danny’s attention.

“Summoning? Who were you summoning?”

“Quiet, ghost!” A cultist hissed. “Go cause some chaos or something while we figure out how to summon the dark king!”

Ghost? What did that cultist mean, ghost?

Danny’s eyes instead brightened, a familiar mischief dancing in them as he grinned, slowly floating to the ground and letting his feet touch the ground. “Oh, the dark king? Did nobody tell you?” Danny asked with a tilt of his head, and suddenly Nightwing noticed frost spreading from his brothers feet with every step he took towards the cultists, “the infinite realm has been under new management for the past decade! The dark king is no longer the king, and gets to spend eternity in nap time!”

The cultists exchanged confused looks before one brave one spoke up, “then who is the new king?”

“You summoned him!” Danny laughed. But it echoed in an unnatural way, and there was a new burst of light that erupted from his brother, light engulfing his entire form before dispersing and revealing he changed.

White hair replaced the black hair, whiter than snow itself and even slightly glowing in the low light, he wore a black lightly armoured suit with white accents, a black cape hanging off his shoulders and drifting in non existent wind that also seemed to affect his hair. Inside the cape seemed as if Danny had taken the night sky and sewn it into the cape itself. His skin became a deep blue, green flecks speckled his cheeks and nose, his eyes now black with toxic green irises that glowed in a menacing way in the dark of the warehouse. Around his neck seemed t be a crown, but as if the aurora borealis had been forged into one. His teeth were sharper to match his sharpened grin, his ears pointed, and the air around him sent off a chill that settled into everyone’s bones.

“You know, I’ve noticed a few of my subjects have been going missing. I couldn’t seem to find them when I went looking where they usually would be. But they must be here, thanks to your little stunts.”

“Y-you’re the king?” A cultist stuttered.

“Forgive us for not realizing-!”

“Please, we have set up offerings! Sacrifices!”

Nightwing was shoved forward just as the rest of his team was, and Danny frowned at the act.

“You think this is what I want?” He asked with a tilt of his head.

The cultists began to shift uneasily, “well… the books said to appease the king, we must spread death and ectoplasmic destruction.”

The crown flared, “did you kill people? In my name?”

The cultists flailed, “well, of course! It’s to give you more power-!”

It was if the lights went out, darkness engulfing the warehouse like a deep dark wave. Screaming was heard in the dark, and Nightwing couldn’t do anything but listen.

As fast as it began, it was over. The light returned, and Danny, no longer glowing and terrifying, was knelt next to Batman, undoing his restraints as he set him free.

The cultists were nowhere in sight.

The moment Danny had finished freeing Batman, he stepped over to Nightwing, and easily set him free from his own restraints, easily standing back with a carefree smile like he didn’t just admit to being the king of the dead. “Sorry if I freaked you out, Dickie. Just had to put on a fancy show to make sure those idiots don’t try to pull anymore of those stunts.”

Nightwing froze.

“You…?”

Danny grinned, that mischievous glint returning to his eyes, “know? I’ve known since the day we met. Why do you think Bruce and your family keeps managing to avoid death?”

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