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blue-mood-blue · 2 months

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I have been thinking about the blackening (as one does)…

…and it’s so interesting to me, the penalty Shen Qingqiu is faced with should he not decide to yeet his disciple into hell.

Account termination. Instant death. Sent directly home to his already-long-dead body, and that’s it for the villain of the piece who outright refuses his villainy. The protagonist needs a blackening for the story to continue, and Shen Qingqiu is going to provide it or get written out of the narrative. Either way, Luo Binghe is going to lose him. Either way, this is a turning point.

I wouldn’t claim that this is the intent of the penalty, but it fascinates me that the System has, potentially, backed the plotline into a corner - because Binghe still stands to be blackened even if Shen Qingqiu took the other choice.

Think about what that would look like, to him. He’s at the Immortal Alliance Conference, and everything is going wrong. He’s been outed as a demon, and not just a demon - the top tier of demon, as bad as it gets from the perspective of a righteous cultivator. His beloved teacher, the person who has been kindest to him and opened his home and heart to him, is standing there with his sword in hand, deciding what he’s going to do about what must look, to him, like a horrific betrayal. Binghe is apologizing. Binghe is begging for his life.

Shen Qingqiu hears him. Maybe it shows on his face, or in his voice, that he already knew; maybe there’s no hint at all, but Shen Qingqiu is suddenly talking quickly with an abrupt sense of urgency that Luo Binghe is having a hard time keeping up with. Telling him he’ll be wonderful - telling him he’s the best. Telling him the world will be his, with emotions cracking through that aloof mask that Binghe has never seen on Shizun’s face before, and it’s terrifying for reasons that Binghe cannot identify.

(He will, later. When he has time to think, he’ll realize it sounded like a goodbye.)

And then Shen Qingqiu is bleeding. And then Shen Qingqiu is on the ground. And then Shen Qingqiu is dead. There’s no countdown for Binghe - there’s no System, there’s no warning, there’s no answers.

Luo Binghe is a heavenly demon in the middle of a conference sabotaged by demons. Luo Binghe is alone. His fellow competing disciples are scattered, some dead or injured. The Peak Lord of Qing Jing Peak, the second in command of Cang Qiong Mountain Sect, maybe the only person he loved and who loved him back, is dead at his feet. No one will believe him if he says it isn’t his fault.

(He can’t believe it isn’t his fault.)

What choice does he have but to run? The last heavenly demon the cultivation world went up against has been sealed under a mountain for years, and one of the people responsible for that is probably looking for Shen Qingqiu already. They’ll be looking for him, too. There isn’t anywhere to hide; there isn’t any time to mourn.

There isn’t even enough time to ask why. Why again.

There is no closure waiting for him, because there is nothing to explain what happened. It just is.

It would be a different kind of blackening, certainly - less intense, probably, less of a warping, desperate thing. But how many times can one person have all the love and safety in their world torn out from under them before it starts to show? Before they just don’t allow things like love and safety to touch them, because that’s the better option?

Interesting to consider that, simply by offering the choices it did, the System rigged the story to guarantee that Luo Binghe would end up in hell (deliberate or not).

Interesting to consider that, even if Shen Qingqiu made what might have seemed like a kinder choice, there was every chance it wouldn’t have been.

#scum villian self saving system #svsss #shen qingqiu #luo binghe #I have been thinking about Alternative Blackening Methods #(for reasons)#(don’t worry about it)#and while I don’t think it would be on the same level as the endless abyss #I think suddenly losing his Shizun would fuck Binghe up #especially like that with no explanation right in front of him??#like #he is not gonna be okay #and then he’s stuck in a realm filled to the BRIM with cultivators after his blood #maybe it’s not THE blackening but it is A blackening #and it gives me feelings #because even if sqq was willing to make that sacrifice I’m not convinced that would have… helped Binghe #(also au where sqq somehow has the mushroom body ready to go before the conference)#(and Binghe unexpectedly encounters his Shizun in the wild)#(and they run away together in the most ill-conceived escape plan known to man)

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lilyblossom-art · 1 year

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I came up with this idea for an AU and it's been occupying my mind for way too long lol My brain kind of already created a main trio for it too-

Anyway, here's all the main characters ig

The designs are definetly still a work in progress. Also I completely forgot about Lana-

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spacedace · 8 months

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Snippet/prolog thing from a DP x DC fic that lives almost entirely inside my head outside of this & a few other bits.

Please feel free to take this as an overly long prompt haha

If anyone wants context to this let me know and I'll be happy to info dump at you lol

The kid had been eleven the first time John Constantine met her.

A little ghost girl, too small for the crowns and dominions that were rightfully hers, wandering the world alone and unattended because to stay in one place would drive her mad - or worse. He didn’t think himself as having a particularly soft heart, but there was something about little Stella Phantom that grew on him - a bit like a mold, he liked to explain. Maybe it was the way she swore like a sailor and kicked a demon in the low hangers with a feral grin the first time he met her. Maybe it was just how lonely she looked, small and slight in the large world she was so obsessed with exploring.

She had a family. A Grave of her own that worried about her, but who couldn’t follow her on her constant travels no matter how much they wanted to. Proof that being some of the most powerful beings in existence wasn’t enough to prepare you for parenthood.

Somewhere along the lines she started following John around. Interested in what he was doing, where he was going, who he worked with. It hadn’t taken long to get her folded into JL Dark. Zantanna had blanched when he’d shown up with little Elle, pulling in the big wigs from JL Light to argue about the ethics of involving a child in their work. As if Supes and the Bat had legs to stand on with their own brood so often in the thick of danger. Elle was safer under his watch than she’d be under the loose oversight the Titans had or whatever fresh hell was going on with Young Justice but hell if anyone would listen to him on that front.

He lost the war when she met Superboy Jr. and Robin V.

She’d adored them from the start, delighted at having children her own age around to spend time with. They formed a little team, working together here and there, then more often as they got older. She still worked mostly with JL Dark, but she was growing up. Spreading her wings a bit.

Elle was seventeen when the Bonds first formed. The spider-silk thin threads finally winding themselves into the heavy binds that spilled out of her Core and reached out for anchoring in the boys. It was sickeningly sweet, in the way puppy love always was. She was too young for Core Bonds like that to settle, of course, in the way children were always too young when they fell in love the first time. It was normal though. Ghost children the Realms over made Bonds only for them to fade or change as they grew, almost never anchoring to anyone til they were full grown.

She’d blushed as red as Marvel’s suit when she realized John could see them, stuttering and embarrassed. He’d teased her about it for a long time, about how much she’d grown up, how much trouble she was going to cause, how he was going to have to fight the big bad Bat and his pet boy scout when she inevitably dishonored their poor, innocent sons. It was entertaining, endearing.

He waited for the Bonds to fade or shift. Weeks. Months. Years. As she turned nineteen, he started to wonder if they would stick around. If in another few years they might strengthen, begin the slow process of anchoring.

She was twenty-one when her boys - calling themselves Flamebird and Phoenix now - started dating each other.

The Bonds remained, steady and solid and painfully unanchored.

John stopped teasing her about them.

They hadn’t changed to accommodate platonic bonds, nor had they faded any. Their tendency to tangle around her like snare was another point of concern. Core Bonds weren’t meant to cause difficulty for the ghost they were born from, and they certainly weren’t meant to wrap around the ghost’s limbs and body in painful loops like that. They weren’t supposed to hurt.

When she was twenty three he started suggesting it might be time for intervention. The irony that he of all people would be trying to get someone to take steps to cut out the thing harming them was not lost on him. Nor was the way the fond feelings he had for the girl had skewed decisively paternal over the years in a way that his younger self would have mocked him for endlessly.

He felt better about broaching the subject knowing that her Grave had been suggesting the same thing. That he wasn’t overstepping the bounds of whatever odd partnership they’d developed over the years. John was, he had very reluctantly come to accept, the girl’s mentor if nothing else. His job was to teach her and guide her, not be her parent.

No matter what his old, battered heart might try and suggest.

Even still, he couldn’t help but be concerned.

She was twenty-five when they got temporarily launched into that broken, bleak world. When they met the Elle and Flamebird and Phoenix of that horrible dimension.

The three alternates’ bonds were anchored completely, tying the triad together in threads of silver and green. Not even Other-Elle’s complete, sickening deterioration into something cannibalistic and feral had been enough to break them. He can’t imagine how much it must have hurt to see that, for his girl to glimpse a world where something she’d longed for for so long happened, only for it to seemingly be at the expense of reality itself.

He helped cover for her, after their two groups had been mixed up and separated for the night - or what might be called night in a world that no longer had any light to make those kinds of distinctions in time. When she came back with the Flamebird and Phoenix of that world, after their little separation from the larger group he kept her two boys misdirected. Distracted Nightwing and Zantanna so they didn’t go asking too many questions he knew Elle wouldn’t want answered. The Bat John was helpless to do much about, but thankfully the big brooder seemed too intent on the desolate, lightless world itself to notice the way Elle’s gaze was going distant, bittersweet at the edges.

He didn’t know what, exactly had happened in the hours she was gone. He could guess, from the way the Other-Phoenix and Other-Flamebird looked at her, the way she avoided her boys. Loneliness and desperation made for an easy slide into bad decisions. John might just have to admit that Zantanna had been correct, all the times she’d said he was a bad influence on the girl. Not that there was any surprise there.

Elle’s Bonds were even more of a knotted mess than before. Offered something so close to anchoring only to find no purchase. They twisted about her throat like a noose now, ready to strangle the life out of her one day.

He signed off on her leave of absence when they finally made it back to their home dimension.

Anyone else would want details to write down. Would want to know the specifics of why and for how long and a whole mess of other details she either wouldn’t or couldn’t answer. He’d get his ass roasted over the fire for the mess the paperwork was in, but that was fine. He’d endured far worse for far less important reasons.

Personal leave, he’d written.

Duration of leave: indefinite.

Reason for leave: None of your fucking business, Bats.

They shared a cigarette on one of the high catwalks in the Watchtower watching dawn break on the world below. Grateful to see the sun and stars again after those two days in utter blackness. They didn’t talk about her Bonds. About what happened. About how she hadn’t talked to her Boys since coming back. Just stood and smoked. He pretended not to notice her tears. She pretended not to notice his. Neither of them had ever been any good at goodbyes.

When the time came she bumped his shoulder in thanks - for the cigarette, for the company, for the years of friendship and family - before turning and stepping through the bright purple door standing impossibly in the middle of the walkway.

He glimpsed the green of the Infinite Realms and the distant shape of her Lair beyond. A world of worlds, paradise to one that never stopped, always off to find something new, something never seen before. It was against all odds that she’d even stumbled upon this one in the first place. A small speck in the crushing infinite.

When the door closed it did so slowly, a painful whine and a soft, mournful click all that marked her leaving.

John watched it bleed out of existence, and wondered if he’d ever see her again.

Six months later, the stars started to disappear.

#dpxdc prompt #dpxdc #dc x dp #dp x dc #john constantine #dani phantom #danielle phantom #elle phantom #jon kent #jon el kent #damian wayne #damijon #one sided (?) Super Serious Chaos #for the record it's not actually one sided Damian & Jon are pining for Elle just as bad as she's pining for them #alternative universe versions of themselves went and complicated things further #bruce wayne #infinite realms world building #ghost cores #Constantine caught a case of Father Figure-itis (it's definitely batman's fault)#angst #there's so much back story and nonsense in this fic idea #there's a whole looming apocalypse thing and Elle trying to sacrifice herself #and Jon & Damian thinking something terrible happened between Elle & their AU selves to cause her to pull away from them #there's ghost core lore (ha that rhymed)#one of these days I'll actually write it all down #in the mean time enjoy a prompt

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fistfuloflightning · 2 months

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You are without doubt the worst rogue cultivator I’ve ever heard of. Ah. But you have heard of me.

Some Mobei-jun/rogue cultivator!Shen Yuan brainrot—thanks to @neonghostcat I can no longer separate SY from the guandao 😭 (thank you from the bottom of my heart)

#svsss #mobei jun #shen yuan #moshen #svsss art #my art #I mostly just threw these together for the ✨aesthetics✨#stupid!pretty+deadly!pretty #but I’m kinda liking this alternate possibility?#some cultivator going around making friends with/taming demonic beasts he has no jurisdiction over #and the demon realm being all ?????#if anything this dweeb should be killing/exorcising these creatures?? but he’s just making them his pets???#MBJ is the one stuck investigating him and #*flailing and vague noises*#idk #fic ideas #that will prob fail to ever appear #if any brave soul wishes to try their hand let me know!!#I’d love to see other ppl’s takes on this weird ship

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faggotkenjaku · 7 months

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Time to take matters into their own hands

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #snekage #gojo satoru #kenjaku #goken #the fight we need gege akutami please #alternatively: if the prison realm failed #gojo cat

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mortiferumsomnum · 1 year

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HELP! I ACCIDENTALLY GOT ENGAGED TO THE GHOST KING!

EDIT: Masterlist

***

Please excuse the stupid Manhwa title, but Jon is panicking right now. Like, really, really, REALLY panicking.

Damian is going to kill him.

Wait, no.

He’ll save him, AND THEN kill him.

NO.

He’ll save him, become the Ghost King HIMSELF, AND THEN KILL HIM.

Oh man, oh god, oh NO--

“Dude, are you done?”

The very Ghost King he got engaged to is sitting on some kind of bean-bag blob ghost with the most tired expression, like in that one meme. And Jon is the girl that’s crying with his fingers closed together while trying to explain his point.

The blob ghost under the Ghost King made a happy purr.

“Danny, my dude, please, you--- you need to understand. WE ARE ALL ABOUT TO DIE.”

The Ghost King, Danny, huffed in tired amusement. And he was about to say something, but Jon grabbed Danny by the shoulders and glared deep into his eyes. He doesn’t understand. Jon will make Danny understand.

“Relax,” Danny said before Jon could say anything, phasing out of his hold to float in the air. He crossed his arms behind his head as he yawned. “I mean, what’s he gonna do? Bust in here with a sword and declare a battle for your hand?”

“Yes,” Jon replied without a beat. “He would. That’s exactly what he would do.”

How did Jon even get into this mess in the first place?

***

It had been a beautiful day. The birds were singing, the flowers were blooming, and teens like Jon were happily chatting amongst themselves as they headed home from school. Jon in particular was waiting in the parking lot for Damian to pick him up. He was seated on the wheel-stop, in the place where Damian would usually park his car, looking through his phone while listening to some of his music.

A classmate of his walked up to Jon with a wide smile. He couldn’t remember her name, but he’s seen her in Homeroom and Geometry. He knows that she’s very studious and works well in groups. But Jon hasn’t really interacted with her much... or at all. So, it’s a wonder why she’s coming up to him.

“Hey, Kent!” she greeted, bringing out a piece of paper to show in front of him. A bunch of names and signatures were on it. A few, Jon could recognize from his own classmates.

“We’re signing a petition,” she said, excitedly. “It’s to help keep Coach Harold as our P.E. teacher.”

Jon raised his brow in surprise. “What’s-- uh-- What’s going on? Is he getting fired?”

He’s such a good teacher! A good coach! He never pushes if it’s out of his classmates’ abilities, and he also makes sure that everyone is safe no matter how easy the activity. He’s patient, understanding, and a lot like Jon’s dad. Well, the man is a fan of Superman, so maybe that’s why? It doesn’t matter!

His classmate, who he still couldn’t remember the name of, huffed in annoyance. “Apparently, he’s already fired.”

Jon shot up from where he was sitting, almost floating into the air, but catching himself before he could. “What do you mean he was already fired?! What was--- What was he even accused of?!”

“Harming a student.”

“What--”

“Yeah,” his classmate said, huffing. “I heard it from the injured student himself. It wasn’t Coach Harold. The school’s protecting another teacher. I don’t know how to get the other teacher to face consequences, so I asked our homeroom teacher what we could do to keep Coach Harold.”

“And it’s a petition?” Jon asked.

His classmate grinned, showing him the paper once more. “I have five more of these babies in my bag. If you sign, you’re gonna be the 250th signature, Kent!”

Jon reached a hand out, and his classmate let him take the paper. He read the written request at the top, and at the other names and signatures. Then, he brought out a ballpen he kept on himself at all times - a habit he gained from his parents. Without a beat, he signed his name.

“All done,” he said, giving the paper back. His classmate cheered, and looked at the paper in wonder, making Jon chuckle. “But uh...” shoot, he still doesn’t remember her name, “don’t you think this petition would hold more weight if our parents signed it?”

His classmate giggled. And... it wasn’t a nice giggle. This one caused the hair on his arms to raise, a chill to run down his back. She grinned at him, and Jon could see how her skin turned into a pale blue color, her hair turning into flames, and the paper in her hand growing longer and longer with Jon’s name and signature at the very bottom, along with one named Daniel Fenton.

“Jonathan Kent,” her voice wasn’t as cheery anymore. It was mocking. She floated in the air and made the paper disappear in her hands. “Thank you for your cooperation, Future Prince Consort. With this, my job with the Observants are done!”

She rose into the air.

Jon flew into the air to go after her.

And before Jon knew it, she grabbed his arm and made both of them invisible. The world around him passed in a blur until he saw a green, swirling portal. He tried to stop them, tried to pull away, but she only clutched harder, flew faster. He screamed as they entered the portal.

The next thing Jon knew, he was in front of some royal, who looked to be the same age as him. It didn’t matter if he was donned in a cape that seemed to be made of galaxies. It didn’t matter if he also looked as blue as all the other residents in the... palace? Was this a palace? Whatever!

What mattered was that when Jon searched for heartbeats, there was none. No one in this room was alive.

Then, with an echoing laugh, his classmate-turned-crazy-lady disappeared from the room.

“What’s going on?” the royal-looking teen asked.

And, yeah, that’s what Jon wants to know! But, the people around him only bowed in response. “Your Highness,” said the Giant... Yeti? Was that a Yeti?!?!? “We congratulate you on your engagement.”

“Excuse me?” the royal asked, as flabbergasted as Jon was. “I’m only sixteen.”

SO AM I! Jon wanted to scream.

“Did you not sign a paper from the Matchmaker?” the Yeti asked.

The royal blinked. “Is... that what she was? Also, she said it was a petition.”

EXACTLY!

Jon felt faint. But also, “What-- What do you mean by Matchmaker?” he asked. Everyone was looking at Jon now, but the royal nodded for him to continue. So, Jon did, his heart beating loudly in his ears. “Don’t they just-- just, y’know-- find matches and stuff? Isn’t the actual engagement planning done by-- by, I dunno, the families??”

The yeti gave Jon a rueful smile. “She doubles as the officiator, unfortunately,” he said. Turning his head towards the King, his face turns apologetic. “She’s been doing this for millennia, Your Highness. The rules for engagement prior marriage has not changed, even as Pariah Dark slept.”

Um, what? Pariah-who-now?

“The only way to cancel this engagement is to rip the contract that had been signed between you.”

Sounds easy enough-- NOT.

The King didn’t seem to be panicking. But, his face did look troubled.

He looked to Jon, then he looked to the people in the large hall. They were all still kneeling. The King raised a hand and, with a loud and booming voice, ordered for all to rise.

“Frostbite, Fright Knight, stay,” he said. Then to the rest of the people, “All of you, leave. We shall cut our activity short.”

No one complained, all nodding and murmuring in understanding. Jon watched as the people disappeared one by one. There are little, green blobs cleaning up buffet tables by eating the remaining food, and larger blobs eating the tables and chairs. It was bizarre and cute.

After that, the King led Jon to his personal quarters, the Yeti and this Giant Knightly looking dude following after them. It was there that Jon learned that they were not just people, they were ghosts! And that he was in a realm called the Ghost Zone. And that he got engaged to THE Ghost King!

Sugar honey iced tea, this isn’t good.

“A ghost marriage,” Jon mumbled hauntingly to himself, holding his head in hands. He was seated on a... beanbag blob ghost that purred and tried swatting at Jon’s ankles with its blobby hand. Jon let it.

The King, who turned out to be the other name at the bottom, Daniel “call me Danny” Fenton, snorted. He was seated on his own blob-bag, sipping some kind of ghost slurpie with a tired look. He was changed into a comfortable looking hoodie and sweats, his socked feet also being swatted by blob hands. “Could be, but it’s not. You’re alive and I’m half-alive.”

This then led to Jon’s panic-fest, which actually lasted for only a few minutes.

****

“We have to find that-- that contract and rip it before Damian gets here,” Jon said.

Danny nodded. “Agreed,” he said. “Fright Knight is doing his best to track down where the Matchmaker could be. And then, after that, I’m going to make sure to rewrite all these outdated laws one by one. First one I’ll rewrite is the legal age requirement for everything. BTW, my dude, is there a legal age requirement for engagements?”

“Uh... I think it only applies to marriage,” Jon replied, also thoughtful. Then, he sat back down in his blob-bag, which caused the blob to purr and swat at his ankles again. “How long do you think this will take?”

Danny shrugged. “Probably a few hours. Maybe days.”

“And... in the living realm? Or-- or at least, my realm?”

Danny shrugged unhelpfully once more. “Depends. What’s your Realm? The one with Spider-man?”

What. “...Who’s Spider-man?”

“Oh... so, is it the one with Percy Jackson??”

Jon only gave a confused look.

“How about Sonic the Hedgehog?”

“The game?”

Danny sat up with a grin. “Sorry. How about you tell me a famous hero from your Realm.”

“Wait-wait-waiiiiiittt, there are multiple realms? Like--- like, different worlds?!”

“Yeah,” said Danny. “An Infinite amount, actually.” He sipped from his never-ending slurpie cup. “Now, tell me a hero, not-future-consort!”

Jon huffed. Then, he grinned. “Does Superman ring a bell?”

To Jon’s disappointment, there is no ‘Whoa!!! Your Realm has Superman?!’ or ‘So cool! Does Batman also exist in your Realm?! What about the Justice League?!’

Instead, Danny nodded. “Good, good. Now, you said that Damian is your boyfriend, so you must be from one of the Minor Realms connected to the Main Realm that it was based off of. In other words - an alternate reality... basically.”

Jon was confused now. “What? Alternate reality? There are more versions of my realm? And, if not Damian, who-- who would be my partner in the Main Realm?”

Danny made a thoughtful look. “I believe it was... Jay Nakamura?”

Jon blinked. “Who’s that?”

Danny waved a hand. “You saved his college from a school shooter. It’s not important to your realm--”

“College?! I’m in high-school!! A Sophomore!!”

“I didn’t look much into his school - it’s probably just called a college and is actually just some K-12 and Higher Education kind of school - but I’m pretty sure he’s just 17--”

“HOW DID DAMIAN TAKE THIS?!”

Danny’s eyes glazed a bit. Then, “He... smiled? Oh, Ancients, that is one scary smile. But, he’s impressed? Jay Nakamura is part of some news site that reports everything the media’s too afraid to report about.”

Jon gaped. Then, he shook his head. “I’ll have you know that Damian smiles all the time! And it’s not scary!”

Danny rolled his eyes. “You’re dating the Beast, dear Belle. You’re already immune. Now, tell me other important things about your realm so that searching through the minor realms would be easier.”

Jon frowned. “How many minor realms are there?”

Danny sighed. “Jon, my dude, imagine the main realm as a movie, or a really good book, or an extremely good comic. And then, the minor realms are the non-canon series or films, comics, or fan-works that surrounds that piece of media. And as you know, people go crazy when it comes to fanworks, am I right? So, can you imagine the thousands of minor realms that are based off of the main realm?”

Yeah. Jon can imagine it. Which causes him to pale. “Will I--- Will I be able to go back?” he asks.

“Of course,” said Danny, not at all troubled. “It’ll just take me time because I haven’t practiced as much. But, I’ll be able to bring you back once we’re done with all this engagement madness.”

Then, Jon wondered, “Are there also multiple Ghost Zone Realms?”

Danny nodded. “I’m not the only King of the Infinite Realms. There are other versions of myself, as well. Once a Realm exists, there will be alternate realities born from it. Sometimes, even Minor Realms could turn into Main Realms if there are more minor realms born from it.”

“Huh...” Jon said. Then, “What’s the-- um-- Main Realm for this one like?”

Danny smiled. “Apparently, I’m just an ordinary boy with ghost powers, and that’s what a halfa is. But, if you look into its minor realms, most of my alternate selves, and I mean MOST of them, are referred as half-dead and half-alive. Other me’s are tortured, vivisected, and have horrible parents. Honestly, it’s really concerning--- Ah, I think I found it.”

Jon, who was making a very alarmed expression a while ago, now perked up from where he sat on his blob-bag. “What is it? Did you find my realm?”

“I hope so!” Danny said, waving a hand to create a hologram-like image in the air. “Bloodthirsty, yandere-like Damian looking around a school parking lot for clues on where you disappeared to?”

Jon looked closely to Damian. He was talking into his communicator, probably to Batman, while holding on to Jon’s backpack that was left in the parking lot.

“Yeah,” Jon said, a lump in his throat. “That--- That’s him.”

He watched as Damian yelled into his communicator, obviously alarmed by what was going on. He watched as Superman landed beside Damian, a face full of worry that Jon would only see from his father and never from the Man of Steel. He watches as Kon lands next to Superman, demanding where Jon could be, why they couldn’t hear Jon’s heartbeat.

Jon reached out towards the magical-window-thingy that allowed him to see and hear what they were doing and going to do. But then his hand reached through it, the magic swirling around his fingers.

He felt a hand on his shoulder. The touch was gentle, and he turned to see Danny giving him a soft smile. “I guess time is running the same time as this Realm,” said Danny, causing Jon to huff. Then, he said, more seriously then before, “I’ll get you out of this mess, I promise.”

Jon nodded. “Thanks,” he said.

Danny was about to say something, when, “If anything happens to Jon, I’m going to kill everyone in this world and then myself---”

“Now, Damian--”

“Don’t you ‘Now, Damian’ me, Clone! My beloved is missing, and if I find a single scratch on his body, or a single hair missing, I WILL. KILL. EVERYONE.”

Danny whistled. “Wow. Main-Damian wasn’t so bloodthirsty... Well, anymore. Interesting to know that there’s a Damian that actually enhanced his bloodlust.”

Then, he made the magical window go away and pulled up two more. “Frostbite, Fright Knight. Please make more of an effort to find the Matchmaker. Danny’s concern about his lover finding the Ghost Realm may actually be possible, I’m afraid.”

“Understood, My King,” said Fright Knight.

Frostbite hummed thoughtfully. “She’s hiding really well, Your Highness. We’ll be sure to quadruple our efforts.”

Danny nodded and waved the windows away.

Jon sighed, anxiety wracking up once more. Will things be okay?

#Damn this got long XD #dc x dp #dp x dc #jon kent #danny fenton #danny phantom #damian wayne #jondami #damijon #platonic jon x danny #I'm sorry if the characters are OOC *sobs*#BUT ALSO #DANNY ACKNOWLEDGING THAT SINCE THERE ARE INFINITE REALMS THERE ARE MULTIPLE WORLDS AND ALTERNATE UNIVERSES #BECAUSE IF WE'RE GOING TO MAKE HIM RULER OF THE INFINITE REALMS IT SHOULD COME TO AN UNDERSTANDING THAT THERE SHOULD BE ONE RULER #BUT IF THERE ARE SO MANY VERSIONS OF DANNY BECOMING THE RULER OF INFINITE REALMS WHO IS THE ULTIMATE RULER AND HOW IS HE CHOSEN?!#OR IS RULER OF INFINITE REALMS JUST A TITLE THAT ANY VERSION OF DANNY OR RULER OF THE INFINITE REALMS COULD HAVE??? AND THEY ACTUALLY #DO TEAMWORK IN WATCHING OVER THE INFINITE REALMS?? AND IF ONE OF THEM IS NOT DOING THEIR JOB THEY NEED TO DOUBLE THEIR EFFORTS????

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my-favourite-zhent · 6 days

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Fortune and Favour

Hello folks, a new AU long fic for you.

Summary:

AU set in Luskan 1480DR. Rugan has assumed leadership over the Coin Spinners gang and taken the name Clearlight. When a Waterdhavian noble comes snooping around for Illuskan Netherese relics under the gang's headquarters Rugan steps up to put them in their place. What he instead finds is the chance at an amazing payday and an unexpected prize.

Notes:

This AU is straight out of the filthy mind of @fistfuloftarenths. She head canoned the idea of Rugan of Clearlight based off the screenshots of @captainsigge. Fistful also came up with a lot of the scene ideas, so I'm bordering on being her ghostwriter at this point. Also thank you to @dustdeepsea for helping me with the title and summary. Big shout out to all three for beta reading for me. These fics are pretty much written for the Zhentil Keep Perverts at this point.

Banner by the lovely @coreene

Chapter One below the cut or here on AO3

Chapter One

1480 15 Uktar

Eden of Clearlight was dead, had been for many months now. While she had rallied many of the other gangs to the Coin Spinners banner, she had lost almost as many men in the ensuing chaos. The Coin Spinners had been left adrift, weakened, directionless and Rugan had seen an opportunity.

He’d only been a lieutenant in a lower ranking gang – so low its name does not bear recounting – when Eden had pulled them all into the fold. But now she and most of her officers were dead. There had been a few others that vied for leadership, and all had found a knife in their back. Either each other’s or Rugan’s.

So it came to be that at barely twenty-four Rugan had become the new head of the Coin Spinners, and with it acquired the title Clearlight. So named for the temple-come-fortress that housed them. He had struck decisively at the other criminal organisations before they had gotten their feet back under them. Most had survived but in weakened states. There were few left who would dare challenge him now. Which was why Amnos’ information came as a surprise.

“Some girl’s been asking about you down in the Cutlass,” the redheaded man had said as the pair stood in front of the altar to Tymora that marked the centre of the fortress.

“That right? Looking to get recruited?” Rugan drawled in his lilting Luskan accent. He tilted his head as he spoke, tied back flaxen hair catching gold in the sunlight that trickled through the stained-glass window overhead. It was said to be the last glass window in Luskan, and for which the temple and now Rugan derived their name.

“Doesn't seem like, looked a bit posh to be joining up.” Amnos scratched his beard pensively.

“A noble?” His eyebrow quirked. That was interesting. Not that he had any love for nobles but he’d never heard of one stooping to joining a street gang, especially not in Luskan of all places.

“Seemed so, dressed nice and spoke real educated-like too. Southern accent it sounded like.”

“Who’s she affiliated with?” The thought of a southerner stirring up trouble did give him pause. Kalen Dren, one of the parties who had been involved in the annihilation of the Luskan gangs, had been from Waterdeep and had since returned there. Any locals would’ve known to stay out of Rugan's way.

Amnos shrugged. “Doesn’t seem like she knows the local gangs, we haven’t seen her make contact with anyone. She’s just been reading books when she’s not harassing the locals.”

“Suppose we should pay this little interloper a visit then. We can’t have just anyone trading on my good name.” He smiled shark-like.

+++++

The Cutlass was one of the busier inns. In the city’s heyday it had been a sight to behold. Still turned a profit as it was, but much like Luskan it’s glory days were long past. The timbers were old and rotted, and its windows were made of thin sheets of animal horn rather than glass.

A nervous silence had fallen over the taproom when Rugan and Amnos entered and he felt a smile play at the corner of his mouth. There was power there, in being feared. Rugan’s exploits against the other guilds had been cutthroat and his reputation well earned. He had little interest in the common folk though. These customers had no reason to fear him as long as they didn’t cross him, but there was no need to tell them that.

He nodded at Amnos to wait for him down here before ascending the stairs to the inn’s rooms. The girl had been under watch for a few days now and his men had informed him of which room was hers. He knocked at the door. Whatever this little noble wanted, he'd be sure to send them packing.

The door swung open and there she stood. Little was right, she barely came up to his chest. But gods, she was beautiful. With soft raven waves cascading past her shoulders, a small but perky bust and a delicate waist that was begging to be grasped.

“Heard you've been asking around about Clearlight, lass.”

It was meant to be intimidating, well, just a touch to start. In her excitement the girl didn't seem to notice. She clasped her hands together under her chin and looked at him with wide eyes.

“You know about the Clearlight temple?” The delight in her voice was unmasked. Her eyes were sparkling, and they were lovely too, framed by thick dark lashes.

The girl’s reaction was the exact opposite of what he had intended, and he felt himself swallow unexpectedly. She grasped his hand in both of hers.

“Oh, do please come in!” She began pulling him into the room without waiting for a reply. Rugan allowed this, but not without some trepidation. Was this a trap set by a rival faction?

“I'd love to hear your opinion on the maps. It took a while to piece them together.” She ushered him towards a table that looked like the victim of a mad cartographer. Several maps were scattered over its surface, weighted down with pebbles. He could see underneath was a larger sheet that had connections between these disparate pieces drawn in.

“Now, no one source had all the sections of the undercity of course. What information we have on Netheril and Illusk is fragmented at best. But based on the complete diagrams from various other Netherese ruins we know that the general floorplan of a Netherese vault house follows a distinct pattern…” The girl had taken a seat at the table and continued to chatter on, but she had lost him a while ago. He sat down in the opposite chair, scrutinising her as she spoke.

A thin braid encircled the crown of her head, adding a touch of order to the chaos that was her hair. Her blouse looked to be of a fine cotton, with ruffled trim along a neckline that dipped deliciously low. He admired how the swell of her breasts peaked out from beneath her top. It was cinched under her bust by a green velvet jacquard corset, laced up the front. Her pants were tan leather, they looked smooth and barely worn. Amnos had been right, entirely too posh to be a recruit. Some noble out of Baldur’s Gate or Waterdeep mayhaps?

“I keep asking about the temple but no one seems to want to talk about it. You'd think it was dedicated to Beshaba rather than Tymora with how skittish the locals have been.”

“People can be a bit superstitious here in Luskan,” he offered, inwardly grinning at his good fortune.

She was a complete and utter fool. For all her research she had neglected to look into the local criminal organisations before coming to Luskan. Of course she didn't know that the Coin Spinners had taken the temple as their base, and that he had taken its name for his own.

“Ah, forgive my manners. I've forgotten to introduce myself. My name is Isolde.” She held out her hand for him to shake.

“Rugan.” He replied, taking her hand and raising it to place a kiss upon it.

She was taken aback, eyes wide with surprise.

‘Didn't think a guttersnipe like me knew how to address a noble lady, did ya?’ Rugan was both rankled by the thought and smug that he had proved her wrong.

He noticed a blush creep over her cheeks and how she seemed to be appraising him now as if noticing him for the first time. He felt the beginnings of a smile tug at the corner of his mouth. No, it was more than surprise, she was flattered.

“P-pleased to meet you,” she managed to eke out.

“Indeed.”

Then, just as quickly, it seemed his hold on her was broken by a sudden recollection.

“Ah I almost forgot! The onion skin!”

“Onion skin?”

But she was already out of her seat and rooting through her pack. She returned with a roll of paper that when unfurled was semi translucent. He supposed it did resemble the skin of an onion.

Carefully she placed it overtop the other maps, pinning it down based on some landmarks only she perceived. There was a map on the onion skin he realised. Tymora’s tits, this was—

“It's the blueprint for Tymora’s temple. The clerics in Waterdeep let me take a look at their copy. Took a bit of maths to get it to scale with the others but luckily the walls are mostly square. Mind you, this is from when it was built in the 1370s, there's no way to tell what it looks like now over a hundred years later. At least not short of going in yourself.”

Now this was something. It galled him to think that a map of the hideout had just been floating around in some Waterdeep temple for any preening noble to come have a little look-see.

“And these markings here?” He gestured to the map, careful to keep his tone neutral.

There were four circles and three crosses marked on the onion skin which lined up with structures on the maps below. He already had a sneaking suspicion what they were based on their locations.

“Passages down to Illusk. The circles are confirmed, cross-referenced with some old journal entries of a priestess I found in Candlekeep library.”

She was correct, two were caved in, but the remaining pair the Coin Spinners had heavily trapped and kept watch over. Never knew what manner of sneak or beast would come up from the undercity.

“And the crosses are unconfirmed?”

“Right, I couldn't find any historical records that mention them specifically, but based on the fact that the first four correspond with the Netherese designs, I think it's safe to assume there would be a temple counterpart for the remaining three. Two of them are connected to a hidden inner chamber while the third connects to the high priest’s chambers, which would explain why they weren't widely known. I mean, it's just a hunch, but I'm fairly confident.”

She looked proud, and he supposed she had reason to be, having found three unguarded entrances to slip into his lair.

“Why would the temple builders create passages, and not just loot the undercity?”

“They may have already looted it or attempted to. But I suspect the temple's location would be particularly auspicious, sitting on top of a coin house. The number of passages also suggests this—seven was considered lucky in many human cultures.” She mused.

There was a sharp whistle and they both started from their chairs.

“Shit, the kettle.” She hurried over to the opposite table where a ceramic kettle bedecked with runes was steaming. Nobles and their magic toys.

“Would you like some tea?” She called over her shoulder.

“Oh, aye.”

Rugan took the opportunity to consider his next steps. He had come here expecting an upstart wanting to buy their way into the guild, or perhaps some imposter trading on his name. Either one he would've cowed or killed, depending on how much he disliked them. He was certainly prepared to dislike some preening noble.

But, technically she was innocent of any crime outside general nosiness. If anything it was his good luck that he had found her before some rival did. He could just take the map but that left the girl as a loose end.

Rugan watched as she prepared two cups of tea. Killing her would be easy enough, but it would be simpler to find the entrances with her know-how.

‘Besides,’ he thought, as she tucked her hair behind her ear revealing more of her slender neck, ‘Noble or not, it would be a crime to remove such a pretty thing from the world.’

She returned with the two cups, and he noted she had left two sugar cubes on his saucer. Sugar had been a luxury in Luskan of late, seemed like more and more things were luxuries nowadays.

“My thanks.” He accepted the cup politely and dropped both cubes in before stirring. “You bring all this with you from Waterdeep?”

“Yes, that's right. Generally prefer to travel light but the merchants I know in the city were of the consensus that it’s a bit harder to get supplied in Luskan, and in any case it was just the one boat up.” She took the seat beside him and sipped at her tea.

“Not too long of a trip I hope?”

“A little more than half a tenday by galley. Not long at all.”

He nodded and took a deep draught of the tea. Rugan was no deckhand, but you don’t grow up in the city of sails without learning a thing or two about ships. A galley was one of the fastest and most expensive ships to book passage on, just one way may have run her fourty or fifty gold pieces. Definitely moneyed, maybe a merchant family out of Waterdeep? She might fetch a nice ransom. No servants though, at least none that Amnos had observed. This wasn’t entirely unusual with tourists who thought part of the fun was ‘roughing it’ . Especially if they were stingy tourists.

“I’m being rude again, I’ve forgotten to ask about your interest in the temple.” And she really did look sorry.

“Well I live there for one.”

“Live there!” She straightened in her chair. “But the clerics in Waterdeep, they said the clergy has long since abandoned Clearlight temple.”

“We’re not really associated with the Waterdeep branch. None of the large organisations have any interest in Luskan since the Spellplague. You could say we’re a bit esoteric compared to most Tymorans.” Rugan didn’t consider himself a particularly good liar, but the girl hadn’t seemed to have noticed.

She was leaning in close now, barely containing her excitement. “So you’ve been inside? You’ve seen the passageways?” He could smell her hair now, it was like jasmine and orange peels.

“Aye lass, some of them. Most are collapsed but those new ones on your map I haven’t seen before. Could be worth an investigation.” The girl was almost leaping out of her chair, this was too easy.

“Would you permit me to come look?” Her voice had already been high but it seemingly shifted a whole octave up now. “I promise not to disturb anything, and of course there would be a split of anything found down there.”

He let his features fall into a charming smile. “Well, if you're promising.” Of course the split would be highly in his favour, if he let her keep anything at all. Unlikely.

It was his lucky day, Tymora be praised. He was going to secure the fortress, possibly a payday and—he let his gaze linger on her a moment—a bit of company if he played his cards right.

She must have noticed his stare, noticed how close they were because her cheeks were reddening and it seemed like her breath was caught in her throat.

“Are you a treasure hunter, then?” Her cup was no longer steady in her hand and he gently took it from her, placing it on the table.

“N-no, just a student. I've been writing my graduation thesis on Illusk.”

“And the treasures they left behind?” He leaned in closer as well so they were mere inches apart.

“It's the records I'm interested in.” Her voice was quieter now, it had a breathy quality to it.

“Not the coin?” She merely shook her head and he reached forward to palm her cheek. When she didn't protest, Rugan felt confident in his approach. She was younger than him, not by much, but enough that combined with a sheltered upbringing she was likely inexperienced in these things.

“Seems to me, if we're going to be working together we should get to know one another a little better. Don't you agree?”

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madlovenovelist · 11 months

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Book Review – ‘Days of Blood and Starlight’ (#2 Daughter of Smoke and Bone) by Laini Taylor

Uncovering Karou’s past with an angel may just bring about a war with monsters. Genre: YA, Fantasy No. of pages: 510 Once upon a time, an angel and a devil fell in love and dared to imagine a world free of bloodshed and war. This is not that world. Art student and monster’s apprentice Karou finally has the answers she has always sought. She knows who she is—and what she is. But with this…

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chaoswarfare · 1 year

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WRITING PROMPT! >:D

Due to an inexplicable time stream glitch, two different universes come crashing into each other, destroying each other completely.

Now, one Danny Phantom and several heroes from the other world are on a desperate mission to reverse the apocalypse for both their worlds and get their families and friends back. The only problem is? The heroes are so nice to Danny, and are so understanding, that he’s not sure he even wants to return to his world anymore.

this has the potential to be. so angsty.

#dc x dp #crossover #danny fenton #danny phantom #dc universe #writing prompt #writing #alternate universe #found family #angst! :D #possible batpham #or any other heroes really #so many possibilities #and what if they were stuck traveling through the infinite realms?#i want people to add onto this #gimme the thoughts in your brain

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llondonfog · 1 year

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It simply appeared in the forest one day.

The tower, as all bewildered folk referred to it, was exactly 36,000 bricks high, and ten soldiers could easily link arms around its unassuming circumference. Nearest its capped peak was a small, barred window seemingly chiseled out of the grey stone— hardly wide enough to fit through and dim enough that one could not peer inside to determine just what was hidden inside such a strange phenomenon.

And as bizarre as this all was, perhaps the most oddest of things was the doorknob located at the base of the tower, with not a door in sight. It would not turn for any of the initial curious who had tried it, nor could it be removed, melted, or smashed. There was a magic here, as uneasy murmurings began to grow; a magic even more ancient than that of the forest itself. A magic that ought not to be remembered, the kind that persists in dreams alone and there ought to remain.

Naturally, the Queen could only send her best to investigate, and General Lilia Vanrouge drums his fingers idly against the hilt of his weapon as he watches the various accompanying mages weave all manner of spells against the unyielding stone exterior, each one more ineffective than the last. The use of magic is taking its deadly toll, and he's seen more than one be pulled away, rubbing uselessly at the spots of accumulated blot as the tower endures their attempts to uncover its secrets and grows all the more reticent for it.

"Perhaps we should simply knock and try the door once again?"

His exasperated attempt at humor falls flat over the heads of the wan and weary mages, and before he can raise his hands in mild supplication, he finds himself pushed by rather desperate hands to the very doorknob in question. And while he certainly meant his suggestion in jest, it isn't as if there's anything to lose by following through. Only, he needn't have wondered— the moment his hand folds around the knob and before he can even raise his other arm to knock, the stones surrounding the doorknob smoothly swing inwards as if greased, revealing the most unpredicted of sights to their wide and disbelieving eyes.

Before them, still and pliant on the stone floor as if a doll that had been tossed aside from play, lies of all things a boy. A human one, Lilia's keen gaze notes despite the dumbfounded surprise, with a shock of pale hair and strangely dressed too in what seems to be some kind of military uniform, one that Lilia certainly doesn't recognize; the garments are a gleaming obsidian, acid stripes of green lancing the fabric. All seems to be as pristine as if newly washed and pressed, no evidence in sight of the passage of time dusted upon the silent figure.

"Is he . . . dead?"

Lilia cannot fathom what possesses him to move so roughly past the other mages at that hushed observation despite their startled and disapproving cries, struck by a strange desire to prove the speaker otherwise despite all battle-hardened instincts screaming at him that something about this macabre scene is so terribly, woefully, wrong. But the moment that Lilia's gloved fingers brush against the boy's shoulder, he's met with a tired gaze of the brightest dawn and a yawned greeting that stills the blood in his already frozen heart, the young man stirring to life as he stretches idly as if falling asleep in strange appearing towers was simply a normal occurrence.

"Oh— it's you, Father. How long have I been asleep?"

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland silver #twst silver #twst lilia #lilia vanrouge #just me playing with what-ifs :')#what if silver ends up pricking his finger in ch7 and falling asleep #and getting transported to some weird dream alternate realm #where lilia is still a general and has no idea who he is #kicks around in my sandbox #lettie writes

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em-ira · 1 month

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@lilmcttens

The Human Realm Adventures of the Blight Twins AU

This story starts on The Day Of Unity.

The Owl House Season 2, Episode 20,

"Clouds On The Horizon".

It follows the events of the episode, but from the point of view of Emira Blight.

This story veers away from the Canon when Emira and Edric discover something that their father, Alador, had been working on in his work room....

The story starts here...

It was a total accident, me getting here. Wherever 'here' is?

Our attempts to steal Kikimora's Airship while the crew were arranging to load the next shipment of Abomatons to take to the arena were dashed when Mom set two of them to catch me and Ed.

Dang! I should have realized that she was using her Oracle powers to watch what we were doing!

As we were carried up to The Manor, we could see that the others were also caught.

A depressing sight.

The Abomatons delivered us to our rooms, standing guard outside.

More guards were outside, so trying to escape by the window was out!

Luckily, the connecting door between the rooms still worked, so we could sit together, and talk about what might happen next.

Suddenly, there was a series of explosions coming from the factory.

At first, we thought that maybe Mittens and the others had succeeded in getting free.

Then, as we watched, something big crashed out through the roof of one of the buildings, and flew off towards The Head.

A short while later, Ed pointed at the Abomatons outside the Manor. They had stopped moving, and looked like they were shutting down.

Cautiously, we tried the door.

The Abomaton outside the door had shut down!

Sensing that this was our chance, me and Ed made a break for it, and ran downstairs, out the front door, heading down to the Factory.

We were nearing the Factory, when the Airship took off, rapidly disappearing in the direction of The Head.

We ran to see what had happened to Mittens and the others, but there was no sign of life.

We went looking for Dad, and the others.

But he wasn't in his work room.

We searched the entire Factory, it took ages, but there was no sign of anyone.

We came to the conclusion that they must have all been on board that Airship!

Then the eclipse went into totality.

We stood there, unable to take our eyes away from the weirdly Glowing moon.

The light was strange too. Like dusk in the middle of the day!

Without warning, a beam of light emerged from the area of the Arena, and seemed to surround the Moon.

It was hypnotizing.

Then something totally weird happened!

It looked like the moon suddenly jumped sideways!

We hid our eyes from the sudden brightness of the sun.

Then there was a distant rumble in the air, and, looking towards The Head, parts of it seemed to be exploding!

We ran back to Dad's workshop. Looking for anything to give us a clue to what had happened.

Nothing but empty snack bags, and part empty Abomination Casks. Bits and pieces everywhere.

There was this sheet, covering something big against the wall.

We uncovered it, and it was a door.

I joked with Ed, as to where this doorway went to and opened the door, I was only going to look, but I ended up going through it.

There was a bright light, and I fell forward, landing on an old wooden floor, in a building.

The door slammed shut as soon as I was through.

I got up, and tried opening the door.

It opened to reveal a dark, wooded area, and it was raining!

So, I closed the door, I wasn't going out in the Boiling Rains!

I sat down on a chair, and tried to calm myself down.

Where the Titan was this place, and how could I get back home?

Then, I heard footsteps approaching the door, from outside!

I looked around, for somewhere to hide.

No time to be picky, I just had to hide behind that chair!

So~now I'm waiting for whoever, or whatever, is coming to come through the door.

#(ic)#the owl house #emira blight #edric blight #The Day Of Unity #AU #alternate universe #The Human Realm Adventures of the Blight Twins AU

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