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phantomskeep · 1 year

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I really, really love Clockwork as a character. He's legit my favorite DP character (besides Danny, but even then they're pretty equal). Anyways, have an excerpt from Putting the Fun Back in Funeral chapter two :) (Should be finished by the end of this upcoming week!)

... A sarcastic reference to the Observants trying to murder Danny should not have made Clockwork laugh.

Danny eyed the other with obvious suspicion. “What’s funny about that?”

The older’s form aged up as his chuckles died down. “You simply reminded me of when the Observants came to me about this very issue.” Clockwork loosened the grip on his staff and used it to lazily jester towards Danny’s throne. “They came to me months ago, warning me of how our timeline was going down the most horrible path. Danny Phantom, a half-dead ghost child with too much power taking the throne? It was something out of a nightmare for them.”

When Danny’s eyes flitted nervously downwards, his body unconsciously curling in a defensive motion, Clockwork used his staff to gently lift his king’s head. Pupilless red eyes met burning green, and a comforting expression graced the middle-aged ghost’s face. “My King, they were very wrong. This is the best possible timeline - one with such a powerful king who wishes only for peace? Whose Obsession isn’t one of power, or rage, or a burning greed, but of protection? Danny, this is the best timeline, the best era - and it is because of you. The Observants are correct with many of their findings, but they can make mistakes like any other being. Their power resides in control.” Here Clockwork paused, a mirthful feeling brushing against Danny’s calming one. “This is something I know you are very aware of. They fear the lack of control they will have during this timeline. It was their goal to gain control of the throne through you, but I’ve made sure the Observants failed every time.”

Danny’s eyes widened, a small gasp escaping his lips. Tears welled in his expressive eyes as he tackled his mentor into a monkey-gripped hug. The older ghost chuckled, easily returning the embrace. His form shifted, aging quickly as he ran time-wrinkled hands along the young king’s back.

“I had suggested a boarding school, of sorts.” Clockwork whispered into his apprentice’s hair. “A chance for you to go and stretch your proverbial wings. This other dimension has an old friend of mine who has offered to continue with your teachings, and the Earth there has many different protectors you can learn from. Of course, there are still duties you will need to attend to.” The old ghost broke from Danny’s clinging hug, looking the twenty-one year old king in his eyes. “It will be dangerous. There are many different forces who now have their eyes on you, my King. But know that if you choose to go this route, you will always be able to access the Infinite Realms and the dimensions attached to her.”

Danny discreetly wiped his eyes, nodding in agreement with Clockwork. A burning determination danced in his eyes as Danny’s gaze steadfastly stared into his most trusted advisor’s. “I need to explain things to my family, at least a little bit. Tell them I’m going on a mission for you at the very least - but I’ll be back. I’ll go to this other dimension and do what I can to be a better king for my people.”

[mmmm there's more stuff in the actual chapter here but for noooow LARGE TIMESKIP]

... However, instead of joining in the festivities like the others on the Council of Ancients, the time ghost had another important meeting to attend. Clockwork allowed the quick passage of time to overcome his form, aging him down like an ancient phoenix recently reborn from its own ashes. His young body turned to face the newest ghost king’s throne as a maelstrom of blue energy rapidly crisscrossed around his form. Wild winds whipped Clockwork’s pale purple cloak as a dark clock-hand appeared behind him, sweeping in a large clockwise motion to reveal a swirling blue and teal portal. The sound of a striking old grandfather clock echoed hauntingly across the empty room of Phantom’s Keep as the hands reached the metaphorical twelfth numeral. When the clock-hands began their descent backwards in time the Master of Time was swept under them, disappearing into the portal of his own creation. The hands again struck the midnight position with the last thrum of a dull, heavy, monotonous clang - once again leaving the now-empty room with the wistful cry of an old clock.

On a different world - one full of heroes, aliens, and otherworldly forces fighting vicious battles for justice - a smog-filled city held within the dark heart of an old ghost was just starting to awaken. When Clockwork’s portal faded from view, time snapped back into place. Loud honking filled his ears as the Master of Time floated above a striking clocktower, his back turned to the ever-moving bay that lapped at the shores of such an inspiring city. A low voice caught Clockwork’s attention, but he did not turn to face the ghost.

“Clockwork, perfect timing as always.” The voice was lofty, easily gliding over syllables with an ease born of hundreds of years.

The purple-cloaked ghost tilted his head in a small greeting, his own words spilling past smiling lips. “It is my pleasure - as always, Lady Gotham - to be welcomed into your haunt.”

:) I'm very excited to post this chapter!! Finally getting into those awesome DPxDC storylines I have planned out!!

(Also, I’m currently high-fiving baby-me for deciding on using “PhantomsKeep” as a username. Cause now I can name-drop myself in my own fics! And I laugh every time >:D )

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that-one-enby-ranger · 5 months

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Halt: BEHOLD, the field in which I grow my fucks! Lay thine eyes upon it, and thou shalt see that it is barren!

#what a dramatic bitch #rangers apprentice #ra #halt o'carrick #ra memes #ranger's apprentice #ranger apprentice #john flanagan #incorrect rangers apprentice

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pink-psychic · 2 years

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He literally walks backwards into (a portal to) hell the demon realm

#the owl house spoilers #toh spoilers #the owl house #toh #Philip Wittebane #emperor belos #what a dramatic bitch

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kadunud · 1 year

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Columbo S6E03

#what a dramatic bitch #columbo #theodore bikel #innuendo

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alexxuun · 4 months

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Triknives 🔪🔪🔪

#they’re bitching #what did you expect #dramatic ass utensils #alexxuun #trigun #trigun fanart #trigun maximum #trigun 98 #trigun stampede #millions knives #nai

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amid-fandoms · 9 days

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pov your boyfriend got unfairly punished 20+ years ago

#drama student or drama queen it's the same for him #he was ready to slap a bitch and for what #doesn't react that dramatically over his own childhood shitstorms jfc #phil protector number 1 i guess #dan and phil #dnp #daniel howell #amazingphil #phan #dan and phil games #my gifs

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confessedlyfannish · 23 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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nintendont2502 · 5 months

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I'm gonna be a little bitch for a second GOD it's so so so fucking exhausting being a non USAmerican online. Like. Jesus fucking christ the levels of defaultism are just,,,, god. The 'default' audience for every post is Americans. American pop culture is universal obviously, and god forbid you bring up a show from your own country because no ones ever watched that! The millions of kids in your country don't count clearly. When American places are mentioned it's always Town, State, Country, but when anywhere else is mentioned you're lucky to get State, Country, or the closest major city if you're really lucky. Fahrenheit and MM/DD/YY and American spellings dominate even though they're the only country that uses them. People constantly talk about how x and y 'breaks the law'. They mean American laws, because those are obviously universal. American news and American politics are everywhere. You *have* to care about this. If you don't, you're a monster. The only time my country makes it is when we're literally burning to the ground, and even then they don't even touch the political side of things. Even international incidents somehow get brought back to America - call your representative (I dont have one). Go to these protests (they're on the other side of the world). Sign this petition (it's for US residents only). Im going to go insane.

#sigh #yes this is inspired by the fucking CONSTANT 'what do you think of this american state!!1!' posts #i Dont.#I Do Not give a shit aboit fucking ohio or whatever #and the assumption tjat everyone everywhere has thoughts on these states (KNOWS these states) is just #gh #what do YOU think of tasmania? or the act? or queensland??#what do you mean you dont know them?? everyone does!!#god #i know im being a bitch and over dramatic but im so fucking tired man #me.txt

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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 9 months

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Vine_Boom.mp3

[First] Prev <–-> Next

#poorly drawn mdzs #mdzs #song lan #a-qing #xiao xingchen #xue yang #The scene where Song lan sees Xue Yang is supposed to be dark and dramatic but there's something about the whiplash of emotions-#-that makes me lose my mind!! That's *HIS* bestie!!! Back off bitch!!#Poor guy wandering around for years looking for his amiguito only to find him with the guy that split you apart in the first place #XY wasn't even trying to flaunt it on purpose. He was just vibing with XXC at the wrong time.#I also love A-qing for being quick on the uptake that these two are so similar its practically like a mirror image.#This also mirrors song lan's first/last appearance with the bff sundae. XY finally gets his revenge (having a domestic life with a bff).#((XXC has no idea what the t-shirt says. He just needed a spare. I like to think XY sewed and embroidered it personally))#I will get into my xue yang thoughts more later but...man I will always wonder how things would have gone if song lan never showed up #xxc never should have run away (out of shame for causing SL harm). It was always going to cause more harm...#Dont worry SL. XXC still misses you. Some bonds cannot be broken even if time and distance pull you apart.

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grandwretch · 1 year

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i do think peak comedy is a steve who is absolutely aware of the effect he has on people, but has never felt that way towards anyone else-- the closest he got was with nancy and robin, because he loved them both in different ways, and sometimes he felt like he was going to go insane if he didn't talk to them or touch them right now, but it was never like he had seen other people act about him. robin and nancy made him a better person. they didn't drive him to ridiculous levels of violence and obsession. maybe people in hawkins were just fucking weird.

and then he meets eddie, falls in love with eddie, and he's like... yeah, okay. alright. no, i get it. if anything happened to this guy i would steal the nuclear launch codes.

#steddie #jgkfldgj separate fic idea where everyone is talking about their best murder ideas as like a joke #nancy has a gun she's been thinking about longingly eddie's is dramatic argyle's is disturbingly competent etc #and steve is just like how many of the government officials that we know do you think i would have to fuck to get access to the nukes #idk steve is the epitome of go big or go home To Me #like he's always the one put in situations and then he commits to the bit a thousand percent and is way more extra about it than everybody #he hit billy with a fucking car . do u get that #nancy was like im gonna shoot at him like a normal person in an action film #and steve was like oh the vehicle im currently in? before airbags were invented? im gonna send it full speed into that guy #as you fucking do #the only one in the upside down mostly naked and shoeless btw #like ???? do u think this is die hard u bitch bc that hasnt come out yet #what was i talking about its 2 am

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spacedace · 1 year

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So I have an idea for a dp x dc fic and I'm going to throw it here since i need to get it out of my head and i'm not sure i'll ever actually write it (and as always if anyone finds my rambles interesting any/all of it us up for grabs to run with):

Elle ends up crashing into the DC universe while exploring, but despite all the dimension/multivariate nonsense that always goes down (or maybe because of it) she can't actually get back, and the levels of ectoplasm are a lot lower than most dimensions which weakens her quite a bit.

There's enough for her to survive, and use her powers a little bit, but using them too much makes her get really weak/maybe even causes serious harm depending on how much she uses.

She finds this out when she tries to open a portal home and both fails to open the portal & passes out as a result of trying. Cut to Elle waking up in Cadmus and realizing "ah, fucked up unethical science, I am familiar with this fuckery" and escapes.

In the process of escaping she comes across Kon, who isn't "finished" yet. He's alive and aged up to a teenager, but isn't quite done with his programming/whatever (this idea came to me based entirely off what I've gleaned through fandom so I don't know the canon of Kon's whole time with Cadmus). Elle immediately realizes "Oh clone baby, that's not good" and breaks him out and takes him with her.

Kon in this doesn't know he's a clone of Superman, he doesn't know a lot of things considering how early into the clone info-dumling process he was in when Elle broke him out. He barely knows language and how to read. What he does know for sure though is that Cadmus is Bad and Getting the Fuck Out is Good so he's down to go with Elle

Queue them becoming friends and being on the run together, learning about this world/dimension together and coming to see each other as family. Eventually they end up in Gotham because it's one of the places that naturally has a higher ectopalsm level and because if you're in the right area no one cares if you have no legal ID (in some circles it's a plus).

Kon gets a lot of odd jobs before eventually ending up working at a strip club or burlesque bar or something (my idea is that it's years after escaping so he's in his early 20s at this point and not just a fresh baby clone anymore and he gets into it because he likes it and it's good money) while Elle uses her ghostly knowledge/what powers she can to work as like a psychic or something like that.

Meanwhile Justice League (with alive again Superman) have found out about the escaped Superman clone and, along with Cadmus, are desperately trying to track him down. The info they have is a bit murky, so they think it's actually *two* clones, one that had Martian dnd also thrown in to the mix based off a short clip they managed to find of Elle phasing through walls.

My idea is that it'd all finally come to a head when Constantine pulls Tim (and maybe also Damian) in on a JL Dark case that involves the Lazerus Pit and for reasons ends up having to hire Elle to help. I'm thinking it's a thing that Elle is a pretty respected name in certain magic circles due to her expert knowledge on the Infinite Realms, though she refuses to work for most people who seek her out - even though the money would be good - because usually it's only evil assholes that want to hire her.

She makes a deal with Jon to help (in exchange for something that would let her get a message to Danny letting him know what happened or something like that) and Kon joins in because there's no way he's trusting a dude Elle calls the "drunk soul slut" with his baby sister unattended, he doesn't *care* if she could handle herself it's not happening.

Anyway, Tim/Kon (and maybe some Damian/Elle) shenanigans during a Lazerus Pit/demon hunting road trip where eventually everyone figures out who Kon & Elle are, Elle manages to get a stable portal setup so she can go home and come back whenever she wants (Kon getting adopted by Danny? Kon getting adopted by Danny) and Kon joining Young Justice and having a good relationship with Clark (who had a lot more time to deal with things before meeting Kon and learned about him as a person before learning he was Clark's clone).

Anyway there would be a scene at the end where Kon would be in his superhero suit for the first time and just:

Clark: Did you choose a hero name yet?

Kon: Yeah, I figured I'd go with Supernova.

Clark, feeling touched: Yeah? Any particular reason?

Kon: It's cool, it has 'Super' in the name, and really it just seemed the easiest option, I'm used to responding to Nova, so *shrugs*

Clark: Yeah? Why's that? Nickname?

Kon: I guess kinda? It's my stage name at the strip club I work at

Clark: what

Tim, brain shut down by this revelation: ...do you do private shows?

Clark: w h a t

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francy-sketches · 1 year

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Rhaena and her pink barbie dragon 🎀

#asoiaf #a song of ice and fire #valyrianscrolls #rhaena targaryen #rhaena of pentos #morning #<- most useless tag ever lol #my art #went a bit off description with the blue but i was looking at pink sky pictures and wanted to make her look like them #also she's meant to be pale pink idk if this is pale enough. opsie #aegon 3 calling her a wretched creature...are you ready to die bitch #when she was a BABY btw. being mean to a baby what is wrong with you #'ahh no a dragon ate my mom and now I'm traumatized' omg you're so dramatic get over it -_-

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unlawfulchaos · 4 months

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Mav, writing a letter to Santa: Dear Santa, I'm writing to let you know that I've been naughty.

Mav, still writing: and it was worth it, you judgemental bastard.

Mav: Cain deserved exactly what he got, and no matter how long Ice stays mad at me, I will not apologise.

Mav: Although my back is starting to hurt from sleeping on the couch.

#mav is definitely in trouble #mav is a petty bitch #ice is mad and staying that way #Mav's festive treat to himself is he gets to commit one vengeful act against cain #what did mav do #who knows #but you know it was something dramatic and excessive #and befitting of his hatred of cain #ice will stay mad until mav apologises #or until mav makes it up to him for the amount of paperwork ice had to do to smooth things over with cain #incorrect quotes #top gun #icemav #pete maverick mitchell #tom iceman kazansky #top gun maverick

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mud-castle · 5 months

Text

Nutmeg: Your help today was invaluable, Scourge. Thank you. Scourge: Uh- yeah...sure...whatever

The leader of Hope Colony and her emo, emotionally-constipated second taking a stroll after a mission.

More info under the cut:

It dawned on me that there would be a fairly large time gap between Scourge and Nutmeg's experiences with the clans. Now, I could make Scourge younger, but I think I can make it work

So, Tiny makes it out of his house, barely alive with some fresh wounds and his collar broken off, and runs into the city after a forest cat raid. While he never does the whole dog and Bloodclan thing, he does grow skilled in ways to survive in the city and builds his own reputation.

Four years afterwards, a new name is sweeping the city, Nutmeg. A kittypet who not only managed to save two of her kittens in a raid but killed a forest cat while she was at it...and lived. She rapidly gains followers and builds up a group she names the Hope Colony.

Their mission: Keep the forest cats out of their homes and away from their kits by any means necessary.

Scourge is down for getting some forest cat blood on his claws and breaks his four years of routine to join. Having lived most of his life by himself, he's difficult to work with initially, but they help each other and eventually get along. Eventually, he becomes her second.

Nutmeg has a very warm, friendly personality. She's very charismatic and people-oriented. She generally prefers to try diplomacy, even with forest cats. If that fails, she turns to the power of incredible violence.

Scourge is always down for the power of incredible violence. He's well known for doing the "dirty work" of the Hope Colony, mostly because that's what he's good at. On the inside, however, he's struggling to live in a group after spending most of his life watching out for only himself.

Bro barely remembers to eat most days yet now he's supposed to keep up with the dynamics of the different city groups as well as forest cat issues. ugh. Politics.

As seen in the photo, Nutmeg freely gives compliments and expresses gratitude. Scourge is unsure how to react to the feelings this brings up.

Designs:

Nutmeg is now buff because Nutmeg deserves to be buff. And Squilf gets her tail from her grandma. She has scars on her side and on the eye hidden by her bangs from Thunderclan's raid on her home. The other scars are from the many fights she's been in since then. She still lives with her humans, though she's gone much of the day to run the Colony.

Scourge now has his iconic red bangs because I can't give him his edgy personality and not have them there. The fur naturally grows like that because I said so. The scars on his leg is from the forest cat raid he escaped from. The ones on his face are from random fights. He's also underweight cause he forgets to eat when in a work mindset.

#dark mirror au #warrior cats au #warrior cats #dm!scourge #dm!nutmeg #dm!bloodclan #hope colony #myart #The bell on Scourge's collar is cause i had the idea that it never rings unless he wants it to #so he'll sneak up behind you and flick it with a claw to alert you #because he's a dramatic bitch #no matter what au my brain loves to focus on Bloodclan and the dynamics within it #idk why #Scourge and Nutmeg have such a fun relationship #Extrovert adopts an extreme introvert energy

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