#I could never do what they do | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

inkskinned · 10 months

Text

at some point it's just like. do they even fucking like the thing they're asking AI to make? "oh we'll just use AI for all the scripts" "we'll just use AI for art" "no worries AI can write this book" "oh, AI could easily design this"

like... it's so clear they've never stood in the middle of an art museum and felt like crying, looking at a piece that somehow cuts into your marrow even though the artist and you are separated by space and time. they've never looked at a poem - once, twice, three times - just because the words feel like a fired gun, something too-close, clanging behind your eyes. they've never gotten to the end of the movie and had to arrive, blinking, back into their body, laughing a little because they were holding their breath without realizing.

"oh AI can mimic style" "AI can mimic emotion" "AI can mimic you and your job is almost gone, kid."

... how do i explain to you - you can make AI that does a perfect job of imitating me. you could disseminate it through the entire world and make so much money, using my works and my ideas and my everything.

and i'd still keep writing.

i don't know there's a word for it. in high school, we become aware that the way we feel about our artform is a cliche - it's like breathing. over and over, artists all feel the same thing. "i write because i need to" and "my music is how i speak" and "i make art because it's either that or i stop existing." it is such a common experience, the violence and immediacy we mean behind it is like breathing to me - comes out like a useless understatement. it's a cliche because we all feel it, not because the experience isn't actually persistent. so many of us have this ... fluttering urgency behind our ribs.

i'm not doing it for the money. for a star on the ground in some city i've never visited. i am doing it because when i was seven i started taking notebooks with me on walks. i am doing it because in second grade i wrote a poem and stood up in front of my whole class to read it out while i shook with nerves. i am doing it because i spent high school scribbling all my feelings down. i am doing it for the 16 year old me and the 18 year old me and the today-me, how we can never put the pen down. you can take me down to a subatomic layer, eviscerate me - and never find the source of it; it is of me. when i was 19 i named this blog inkskinned because i was dramatic and lonely and it felt like the only thing that was actually permanently-true about me was that this is what is inside of me, that the words come up over everything, coat everything, bloom their little twilight arias into every nook and corner and alley

"we're gonna replace you". that is okay. you think that i am writing to fill a space. that someone said JOB OPENING: Writer Needed, and i wrote to answer. you think one raindrop replaces another, and i think they're both just falling. you think art has a place, that is simply arrives on walls when it is needed, that is only ever on demand, perfect, easily requested. you see "audience spending" and "marketability" and "multi-line merch opportunity"

and i see a kid drowning. i am writing to make her a boat. i am writing because what used to be a river raft has long become a fully-rigged ship. i am writing because you can fucking rip this out of my cold dead clammy hands and i will still come back as a ghost and i will still be penning poems about it.

it isn't even love. the word we use the most i think is "passion". devotion, obsession, necessity. my favorite little fact about the magic of artists - "abracadabra" means i create as i speak. we make because it sluices out of us. because we look down and our hands are somehow already busy. because it was the first thing we knew and it is our backbone and heartbreak and everything. because we have given up well-paying jobs and a "real life" and the approval of our parents. we create because - the cliche again. it's like breathing. we create because we must.

you create because you're greedy.

#every time someones like ''AI will replace u" im like. u will have to fucking KILL ME #there is no replacement here bc i am not filling a position. i am just writing #and the writing is what i need to be doing #writeblr #this probably doesn't make sense bc its sooo frustrating i rarely speak it the way i want to #edited for the typo wrote it and then was late to a meeting lol #i love u people who mention my typos genuinely bc i don't always catch them!!!! :) it is doing me a genuine favor!!!#my friend says i should tell you ''thank you beta editors'' but i don't know what that means #i made her promise it isn't a wolf fanfiction thing. so if it IS a wolf thing she is DEAD to me (just kidding i love her)#hey PS PS PS ??? if ur reading this thinking what it's saying is ''i am financially capable of losing this'' ur reading it wrong #i write for free. i always have. i have worked 5-7 jobs at once to make ends meet.#i did not grow up with access or money. i did not grow up with connections or like some kind of excuse #i grew up and worked my fucking ASS OFF. and i STILL!!! wrote!!! on the side!!! because i didn't know how not to!!!#i do not write for money!!!! i write because i fuckken NEED TO #i could be in the fucking desert i could be in the fuckken tundra i could be in total darkness #and i would still be writing pretentious angsty poetry about it #im not in any way saying it's a good thing. i'm not in any way implying that they're NOT tryna kill us #i'm saying. you could take away our jobs and we could go hungry and we could suffer #and from that suffering (if i know us) we'd still fuckin make art.#i would LOVE to be able to make money doing this! i never have been able to. but i don't NEED to. i will find a way to make my life work #even if it means being miserable #but i will not give up this thing. for the whole world.

18K notes · View notes

cringethursday · 2 years

Text

My physics professor just told the class the wildest story from when he was in grad school about building a high voltage unauthorized Tesla coil with the ability to kill a man

#physics #we actually have a physics department party tonight and I specifically wore the most punk rock outfit in my closet so I could look like the #coolest person there even though I’m a Fucking Nerd #but no matter how I dress or what I do for the rest of my life I will never be as cool as this man

54K notes · View notes

spectral-honey · 2 years

Text

AU where Jason gets his revenge by becoming a lawyer and getting joker sentenced to the death penalty

Bruce is conflicted about it but any time he tries to say anything on the subject Alfred just talks over him like "oh we're so proud of you master Jason you finished college and you didn't even use your father's extensive resources that could've easily gotten someone in this family a degree aren't we so proud master Bruce that Jason got himself a respectable profession--"

#jason todd #red hood #batfam #i also think it would be funny if thats literally the only thing jason does as a lawyer after that he just goes back to being a vigilante #everyone on the internet is like 'the iconic career of jason todd wayne: came back from the dead got a college degree got the joker-#-sentenced to death (finally) and then immediately fucked off to do whatever the hell it is he does for fun'#any time bruce and jason disagree jasons like 'excuse me which one of us is the college drop out and which of us is a practicing attorney?'#alfred 'you could have been a doctor but you became a furry themed vigilante instead' will never let this go #also btw jason just stole reasources from the league to get thru college. maybe at first talia was like what & then jason was like #'my alternate plan was to either get bruce to kill the joker or kill all three of us in an explosion' and talia is like #'okay. have fun at school sweetie'#BTW AN EDIT: this post is not reflective of my IRL beliefs about the criminal justice system or the death penalty #IRL those are way more complicated than gotham city/the joker/jason make it out to be #saw a few people tagging this post mentioning stuff about that

29K notes · View notes

aunmenosheteroenespanol · 18 days

Text

2.12 Chimney Begins - 2.09 Hen Begins - 2.16 Bobby Begins Again - 7.04 Buck, Bothered and Bewildered

Tommy's family arc

#911 #911edit #911 abc #911 show #911 spoilers #911 season 7 #tommy kinard #evan buckley #evan 'buck' buckley #kinley #bucktommy #kinkley #tevan #pick a ship name you guys and thanks for picking tevan the most correct name #anyway analysis time!#looking back with Modern Knowledge tm about why tommy acts the way he does in the past... babygirl you were so closeted I'm so proud #babygirl was back there getting into narnia #he was so resistant to letting go of the pseudo-family he'd found at the 118 in chimney begins #even tho it was a good old boys club that he knew he really didn't fit into he was making himself fit because at least it was something #but then he let chimney in and then hen came around and he saw a very queer person being openly queer and not giving a fuck what they think #and I think his behavior in that episode was trying to support hen as much as he could without outing himself #because like. how do you give up years of relative safety with people who do care about you they just won't like you anymore if you're *you #then he meets buck in s7 which is like 10-20 years later timeline is fake and he's like oh. this is what unconditional family is #and he's like oh. maybe I can come back. maybe I can be part of this again somehow. maybe we've both grown enough #or at the very least he'll be close to something he never believed would really happen for him #rant over tevan my beloved tim minear pillow cold both sides god bless #my edits

2K notes · View notes

glo-shroom · 2 months

Text

yes & no by Natalie Wee | Trigun Ultimate Overhaul

#THIS HAS BEEN COOKING. FOR TWO MONTHS #trigun #vashwood #vash the stampede #nicholas d. wolfwood #vash #wolfwood #trigun maximum #mine #edit #trimax #trigun edit #tw suicide mention #for that one line #and #tw blood #hopefully there's nothing else I'm forgetting #long post #i guess #pls feel free to critique me on the alt texts I've never done it before and would love to know what I can do better #but uhhh yeah otherwise. enjoy my baby. I'm very proud of this #I do however need to not look at it for a while now #so aside from the IDs if there are mistakes. no there aren't <3 #AND THANKS TO MY QPP EEE FOR LISTENING TO ME ENDLESSLY WORK ON THIS AND OFFERING ME INPUT AND CRITIGUE!!! <3333 #god. it's finally done #edit: btw I could write so much on my choices in this and what I'm going for and little details. but I leave it to the masses to interpret

2K notes · View notes

tummysmoocher · 29 days

Text

Having this kink is so funny because You will have a crush on someone and think they are soooooo fucking hot and they will stand there and tell you that they are insecure about their body and you will have to do the equivalent of locking your brain in a straitjacket to formulate a response that sounds supportive and socially acceptable when the reality is that you would commit atrocities just to kiss their stomach ONCE. That, if given the opportunity, you would worship them like they were royalty. And you would do this in both a non-kinky way because you love them and think they are beautiful and wish that they could see themself the way you see them but also in the kinky way where it feels like there’s a feral dog inside of you that wants to sink it’s teeth into the softness of them and never let go. You have to stand there and think to yourself “you have no idea the things I would do to you. You have no idea just how desirable you are.” And it’s honestly unbearable !!!!!

#‘I need to lose weight :(‘ NO!!! YOU NEED TO LET ME MAKE SWEET SWEET LOVE TO YOU!!!!#babygirl I will Pavlov self love into you in ways you’ve never imagined #wg text #soft feedism #idk does this make sense. the overwhelming urge to grab someone and shake them and be like #‘the fact that you have no idea what you do to me just by existing is so upsetting. I wish you could see you from my eyes.’

2K notes · View notes

im-totally-not-an-alien-2 · 15 days

Text

Danny was livid.

The Guys In White had been following Phantom around constantly and while they weren't much of a threat, they were a massive nuisance. They had shot him down on Thursday and caused him to crash into some poor kids birthday cake in the park.

On Friday they had accidentally released ghost rats into the school.

On Saturday they had somehow managed to turn Paulinas hair ectoplasm green. She refused to leave her bedroom until it was reversed

On Sunday they tried to commandeer his parents GAV and earned the ire of his mom. They found out exactly why that was a bad idea.

On Monday they bardged into Danny's classroom, interrupting his math test because they were looking for a ghost parrot. It was mostly harmless but kept insulting them in a cheery tone. Danny decided he liked that bird.

We won't speak about what happened on Tuesday.

On Wednesday, he scowled at an agent that had accidentally blasted him and his friends with liquid ectoplasm while they were sitting and eating lunch. It was then that Danny began plotting his revenge.

That night he when ghost and lead the GIW on a while goose chase. Did danny take them across state lines? Yes. Did he manage to pull a massive following of these creeps? Also yes.

Did he plan for his target-the guy he had been leading them to- to already be in cuffs when he arrived in Gotham? No. Not at all.

"Hey, uh..." the words died on his tongue as Batman- The Batman- turned to him with narrowed eyes. Mustering his will, he started again, "Could you let him out? Just for a little bit?"

"No."

"Aw, Cmon!"

Condiment King began raving about something, but Danny didn't particularly care to pay attention. "If you're not going to let him out, then can you at least call the rest of the paw patrol? I wanna ask if they wanna throw mud at evil secret organization people. For enrichment." Danny gave his best, most cheeky smile for extra measure.

"Hn."

#dpxdc #fanfiction prompts #prompts #danny fenton #danny phantom #batman #condiment king #guys in white #maddline fenton beating up government agents #supposed government agents at least #the bats should be allowed to tear apart the giw for funsies #Danny -i have never met a compatent adult- Fenton: Yeah i can totally keep my identity a secret from Batman :D #narrator: he could not #the batgam go ham #not only do they destroy the giw they also terrorize them with stains #danny is so happy #danny is trying to figure out what *hn* means. hes not fluent in Batman

1K notes · View notes

bet-on-me-13 · 4 months

Text

Technically a Cult

So! Danny has been hearing through the Grapevine that a large Cult has been Summoning all the biggest Magical Creature's for some reason. Demon Lord's, Fae Kings, even a few Gods. Clockwork was summoned a little while ago, and so was Fright Knight and Pandora

And he has been patiently waiting his turn for a while. Apparently everyone they summon has gotten a really good deal from them, all in return for a few favors, sometimes a promise to not go to a specific place.

Danny really wants to strike a deal with them. He wants to ask them for a favor so he can get out of work for a few weeks, he's been planning on taking a vacation with Sam and Tuck, but the Eyeballs are being annoyingly resistant.

He feels the familiar pull of Summoning, and realizes that it's time. Awesome, time to meet this mysterious Cult!

...

Why is the JLA standing in from of him?

#Dpxdc #Dp x dc #Dcxdp #Dc x dp #Danny Phantom #Dc #Dcu #Danny wanted to he summoned by a Cult so he could strike a deal with them #He wants to take a Vacation from his Ghost King duties #The JL has been Summoning a bunch if powerful Magical Beings to do a threat assessment #And if they are too dangerous they make deals so the Earth is safe from them #Danny thinks the JLA is a Cult disguising itself as a group of Heroes #“Wow I never would have thought of that. Your Cult is Way smarter than most other Cults I see”#The JLA is mortified #Constantine is amused #What did they think was going to happen when the summon all the biggest Magical Beings in the Multiverse #They're gonna gossip

3K notes · View notes

chappelroans · 3 months

Text

missing someone bad for you

trista mateer / trista mateer / sue zhao / u.k / u.k / clementine von radics / trista mateer

#web weaving #webweaving #on loneliness #on grief #on missing someone #on love #quotes #poetry #text #i miss them so bad it aches! i want to cry in their lap again! i want to tell them about everything! i want the world to stop ending!#i was treated like a dog. i left on my own but i still miss the doghouse in the backyard #it wasn’t much but it was something. i should’ve taken what little i could get. i didn’t know that i would leave and get nothing instead #the decision to eat nothing instead of the scraps on the floor is insane. and now i’ve got nobody and we’ll never talk again #there’s a person with half of my soul walking around and i can’t do shit about it #i forget them for a moment but then i see them in my instagram notifs and i blow up the world

2K notes · View notes

thedreadvampy · 1 year

Text

Losing my shit about this article in which a transphobic Tory was so busy panicking about existing in the vicinity of a Trans that she almost certainly misheard "jeans" as "penis" and decided that not only was this a problem with the other woman, but also that the world must be informed of this pressing danger.

"a trans woman! I had to stand directly behind her....I thought, 'this is going well', I'm handling The Situation fine'..."

translated: I saw a tall woman with broad shoulders. How would I get out of this alive? I thought. she has a PENIS. PENIS PENIS PENIS. through some force of PENIS I mean will I managed to PENIS behave normally towards her. My hands were PENIS PENIS PENIS shaking as I tried to dry them. summoning up all my PENIS courage I said 'dryer's crap innit'. she turned to me and said " yeah I'm just goiPENIS PENIS PENIS"

It's been a week and I'm still shaking. This proves trans women are the problem and I'm not weird. I'm fine. It's fine. If you think about it I'm the hero hePENIS!!!!!

very this

#red said #it's just. I'm obsessed.#everyone on Twitter is saying 'never happened' and i think they're wrong #this absolutely did happen and she's been obsessing over how vindicated it made her feel enough to WRITE AN ARTICLE ABOUT IT #because she MISHEARD SOMEONE IN A CASUAL CONVERSATION #i lay out my reasoning thusly: if you were INVENTING a scary trans woman in bathroom story out of nothing. why would it be this?#why would you go with 'we had a banal conversation until she said a sentence that makes no sense and that no human has ever uttered #but which does coincidentally sounds almost exactly like a mishearing of a very NORMAL thing to say in the circumstances #then she left and nothing else occurred'#if you were going to INVENT a story you would probably make it MAKE SENSE or SOUND THREATENING #i truly believe this is a very authentically told account of what she thinks happened #because who would. by means other than mishearing. think 'I'm going to wipe my hands on my penis' makes any sense at all.#a) 'I'm going to dry my hands on my genitals' says the presumably fully clothed woman #b) who then proceeds to leave without doing anything threatening #c) WHO SAYS PENIS THREATENINGLY? sorry it's writing out 'penis' repeatedly that made this jump out to me but like. who says that?#you might hear someone talk casually about their dick or cock but i stg it's only doctors and TERFs who casually use the word penis much #it's so. clinically descriptive. it's a weird use of language. but it IS. something you could plausibly mishear from 'pants' or 'trousers'

9K notes · View notes

confessedlyfannish · 20 days

Text

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

1K notes · View notes

inkskinned · 11 months

Text

one of the things about being an educator is that you hear what parents want their kids to be able to do a lot. they want their kid to be an astronaut or a ballerina or a politician. they want them to get off that damn phone. be better about socializing. stop spending so much time indoors. learn to control their own temper. to just "fucking listen", which means to be obedient.

one of the things i learned in my pedagogy classes is that it's almost always easier to roleplay how you want someone to act. it's almost always easier to explain why a rule exists, rather than simply setting the rule and demanding adherence.

i want my kids to be kind. i want them to ask me what book they should read next, and i want to read that book with them so we can discuss it. i want my kid to be able to tell me hey that hurt my feelings without worrying i'll punish them. i want my kid to be proud of small things and come running up to me to tell me about them. i want them to say "nah, i get why this rule exists, but i get to hate it" and know that i don't need them to be grateful-for-the-roof-overhead while washing the dishes. i want them to teach me things. i want them to say - this isn't safe. i'm calling my mom and getting out of this. i want them to hear me apologize when i do fuck up; and i want them to want to come home.

the other day a parent was telling me she didn't understand why her kid "just got so angry." this woman had flown off the handle at me.

my dad - traditional catholic that he is - resents my sentiment of "gentle parenting". he says they'll grow up spoiled, horrible, pretentious. granola, he spits.

i am going to be kind to them. i am going to set the example, i think. and whatever they choose become in the meantime - i'm going to love them for it.

#writeblr #i was doing a lot with high school students. over and over again #other teachers kept asking me what i was doing differently - why the kids listened to me. i am not particularly foreboding #and i have a pretty firm personal policy of never reacting in anger #godhelpme.#i was always kind of taken aback #because in general the kids were pretty easy. i explained i needed to keep everything “PG-13” because this was my workplace #and it was kind of their workplace #too. besides #i love swearing #and since i couldn't swear #neither could they - so if they were going to say “fuck” or become violent #they needed to choose a really specific time #because we only get “the one”.. sure enough - nobody wanted to waste the one very specific “fuck” utterance. kids listened.#i think just because - that rule makes sense. the kids understand that i don't want to be unfair to them #that censorship is stupid #but that i'm under these rules too so like let's ride it out together #also i look young and tbh between me and u nobody wants to make the nice english teacher cry #the way these kids defended me to their friends was really genuinely so heartwarming bc the Grouchy Frat Boy #would be like MISS RAQUEL DOESN'T DESERVE THAT KIND OF AN ATTITUDE BRO DON'T TALK BACK TO HER

5K notes · View notes