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#just let them be scary!!
wxywardsun · 1 year
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Bringing up uncannynatural in the sense of witches yet again so here’s some things I think they should’ve been able to do + do more of whether it be knowingly or unknowingly :
More glowy eyes. Let them have glowy eyes more even in a well lit room. You can see the faintest purple glow if you focus hard enough (I just think that’s such a bone chilling thing to think about)
Unknowingly making lightbulbs flicker or pop with magic (heightened emotions = brighter flicker)
The occasional rattle of a random object on a table when a witch gets startled would’ve been pretty interesting to see
Radio audio fizzling in and out on occasion when a witch uses a spell (or a computer screen glitching out a bit)
Oh a witch has long nails? I wanna see little tiny sparks of magic flying up and around in the air if they scratch or claw at something
I feel like we should’ve seen a witch with fangs or at least a bit of noticeable sharpness to their canines. It would look super neat and ominous and (again) those occasional little sparks of magic if they bare them at someone or something would look pretty badass
little hand movements when they do spells (think doctor strange + scarlet witch type of moves)
Object levitation + darting objects at monsters with it. Seriously imagine being on a hunt and out of nowhere a knife comes flying at the monsters head before you can even get a hit in only to find out it’s a witch that nabbed your kill a few feet away from you (makes it even more chilling if you can’t even see where they’re at)
I might add to this list but overall? I love the witches of supernatural I just wish they could’ve been more ominous!
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biceratops7 · 5 months
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Here's a neat detail:
Not to talk about season 1 Good Omens in the year of our Lord and Season 3 announcement 2023, but I kind of just realized another little moment that's very sweet and true to real life.
I really like that Crowley isn't just fine again after he learns Aziraphale survived the bookshop burning after all. Normally in stories when there's a "surprise, I'm alive!" moment, the characters just kind of celebrate for a minute and then move on business as usual. But Crowley doesn't. He continues to be visibly be shaken and a little unfocused throughout his conversation with Aziraphale, and when he has to explain what happened, he starts crying again.
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I don't know I just thought that was a really nice detail because anyone who's experienced similar whiplash in real life knows about that... residual grief period I guess? I think this was a core memory that informed a lot of Crowley's behavior in season 2, you don't ever really forget that moment you lost them no matter how brief. There's just something very loving and vulnerable in him being like "I thought you were gone, and even though I know now you're ok, I want you to know just thinking about it upsets me deeply."
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ministarfruit · 3 months
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day 28: made you smile ♡
(femslashfeb prompt list)
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triona-tribblescore · 11 months
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SUSPENSE
based on real events that happen with my siblings and I
the suspense is more painful than anything else-
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braisedhoney · 10 months
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been on an utdr kick. occasionally i feel the snag of old fandoms… but tbh i blame gaster, because he never left in the first place.
also i know almost nothing about horrortale sans pls forgive me. i’m basing it off the game demo i saw like six years ago.
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bro you could totally fit the whole axe in there. question is where would it go.
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mkzmerryfriend · 1 month
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*cracks knuckles* we know Tyler isn’t the original Clancy right? Y’all caught that? Clancy’s bishop was Keons, Tyler’s is Nico, and now “Clancy” is Tyler. Because “scaled and icy” is an anagram for “Clancy is dead” and that album was the one where dema was using Tyler’s popularity for their own purposes. Clancy failed to stop the cycle on his own, and despite already being used as a figurehead for dema, Tyler decided to take up the role of “Clancy” in the wake of what seemed like a total collapse of the Banditos. Their leader had been taken out, and now they had no one to organize them.
But Tyler taking on the name Clancy isn’t him taking on the role of leader or even organizer. He is showing us (the Banditos) that we all can be our own inspiration, we don’t need a figure to follow, we don’t need a leader to lead us. We can do this, fight dema, ourselves.
Y’all got that, right?
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starry-bi-sky · 6 months
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I am procrastinating homework and finals studying so I'm making another DPxDC au -- or more accurately, I am making an au of an au. or combining two aus to make a third one, because I am Procastinating And thinking about it.
(the part two for my Danny is Jason Todd au is like,,, half-made and I will get around to finishing it, promiiissse)
So the two aus I had in mind were combining, of course, the two clone aus - the Danny Clone and the Damian Clone au. For folks who haven't seen either posts (or saw one but not the other) here are summaries of both:
Damian Clone Au: The LoA make a clone of Damian Wayne specifically to either kill Damian Wayne and have the clone take his place as the heir to the LoA, or to bring him back. At 6 years old though and through magical teleportation mishaps, Baby Damian ends up in the warehouse district of Amity Park and picked up (and later adopted) by Danny Fenton. They develop a brotherly dynamic with one another.
Danny Clone Au: Danny is straight up a clone of Bruce Wayne, doesn't find out until a year after he has his accident. And, for the fun of it, is also mostly-powerless (he retains his ghost sense and a semblance of a ghost core and signature, but no ghost form). His reasoning for becoming Phantom is because he has walked into the lab watching his parents dissecting ghosts post-portal working more times than he can count. And due to this, changes his beliefs from "ghosts are evil" to "ghosts are sentient and sapient beings who don't deserve this treatment". (masterpost pinned on my blog, its currently incomplete) He is also a little GNC, as a treat. Long-haired Danny ftw. Ellie is a halfa because of the ectoplasm that Vlad used, and also the same age as Danny. They call each other twins and she is viciously protective of him. He uses a baseball bat and brass knuckles that I call 'jawbreakers' to fight ghosts.
Now admittedly, not much probably changes with the combination of these aus other than the potential parallels between Damian and Danny, and Bruce and Damian - and of course, I am always a sucker for parallels. Plus Damian's running off would take Danny finding him much longer, since he can no longer fly, but all the more meaningful because he still took so much time to find him.
(It probably also makes their first meeting different as well - Danny wears a ROTTMNT Casey Jones Jr. esq. mask when he goes out, but Damian would recognize lazarus green anywhere. He'd probably try harder to kill him though once he sees his face, since he knows that its not his father but an imposter.)
It also includes what I consider a hilarious conversation: "Since I'm a clone of Bruce Wayne, does this make me your dad or your brother?" "Don't be an idiot, laeazir." "You didn't answer my question."
The biggest change that comes from this is, of course, the fact that Danny now no longer has a leg to stand on with the "you're a human, I am a ghost" excuse in order to prevent Damian to help him with ghost-fighting, because now Danny is also a squishy, fleshy and fragile human just like Damian. And a human who, arguably, has less combat training than Damian and no powers to make up for it.
Now, Danny in both aus are about 16-17-ish in age, so they've had time to adapt to their new vigilante-hero lifestyle, but its still not the same as Damian's training as an assassin. Damian, unlike in the original clone au, remains insistent on his want to help Danny.
And,,, eventually wears him down after weeks or months of sneaking out after him, helping in fights, interfering, arguing, etc. Danny eventually agrees, exhausted, but he makes Damian promise, promise, that he will be careful and to focus on dodging and distraction. At least until Danny can figure out a safer alternative. He wants him as far removed from the fight as he can, he's a child for ancient's sake, after all.
Which is another issue too - if we follow Damian Clone timeline, then Damian is six years old when this happens. I'll be point blank, I do not see Danny ever actually agreeing to let a literal 6 year old go with him. SO, solution, I bump Damian's age to 7 when he arrives in the Fenton Family, and make him freshly eight years old when he finally gets Danny to agree.
It still SUCKS. He is still very much an itty bitty child, but as someone who has seen the difference between a six year old and an eight year old due to working at a daycare, an eight year old is still... slightly feasible. And an 8 year old assassin even more so (even if he hasn't trained properly in nearly a year or so)
So Danny, reluctantly, agrees to let Damian come with him on patrols.
He ghost-proofs Damian's sword (as he has since learned to do with his bat and jawbreakers), makes him a grappling hook and a Fenton thermos, and reluctantly lets Damian come with in his old LoA uniform that he appeared in (with some tailoring and ghost-proofing, because he has since begun to grow out of the uniform).
(and Danny himself also finally starts looking into alternatives to improve his own "suit" - which is all but a hoodie and reinforced jeans and a hockey mask. He needs to set an example to his little brother, goddammit.)
Then, as they're planning for Damian's eventual (dreaded on Danny's part) debut, they sit in their shared room and brainstorm for what to call Damian. "Ellie already uses the name Spirit." Danny says, sitting criss-cross at his desk with the eraser nub of a pencil chewed between his teeth.
(Behind him he has an investigative corkboard set up -- his accident left him with the ability to see ghosts not capable of being seen on the visible plane. 'Stereotypical' ghosts. Between school work, his social life, and ghost fighting, some of his downtime is spent figuring out ways to help them move on. His most recent is a cold case.)
(Bc with Danny, I loove to have him have some sort of trait that ties him in with his original counterpart. Nature vs Nurture and all that. Investigative work can be part of that.)
"What about Wraith?" Damian suggests from the floor, leaning against the bed frame while he goes over one of his english books. They've been practicing his reading and writing.
Danny furrows his brows. "A ghost seen typically shortly after or before someone's death?"
Damian nods. "Yes, it's of a similar cadence to 'Batman and Robin'."
"What's with you and your thing with Batman and Robin?" Danny asks with a playful half-smile, Damian shrugs and looks at his books. Danny sticks the eraser back between his incisors. "Phantom and Wraith... that works, though."
The first night out together, Danny fusses over Damian, making sure every bit of uniform was secured and in place -- something Damian took mild offense over. His outfit was far more reinforced than the juvenile get-up that his older brother wore.
But he let him fuss anyways. It made him loved.
"Now remember, Wraith--"
Damian interrupts him: "Yes, I know, Dany. Avoid and distract. Stay situationally aware. I fear that is something I should be telling you, however. Mother would have your head if she ever saw what your training was like."
(It was, not for the first time, that Damian wondered how his,,, "mother",,, would react if she ever met Danyal. Not good, he knows.)
Danny's shoulders sag, and he sighs. "I believe that, what with that super-secret spy--"
"Assassin."
Danny sends him a half-hearted chagrined look, "Assassin," he corrects, "organization that made you. I'm sure I'd give your mother an aneurysm." When he's finally okay with whatever make-believe issues he found with his suit, Danny reaches for the nearby side table and carefully slips on a black domino mask over Damian's eyes. It was thin, flexible, and made with some kind of material that Danny reassured was environmentally safe.
("Some kind of matieral that Wayne Industries invented awhile ago, Sam bought it for me." Danny told him when he first showed it to him.)
It was also cold. But the chill was made up for, slightly, with Danny's warmer hands smoothing it out over his skin, and ridding of any ridges that could form. Damian isn't sure entirely what Danyal did to keep it stuck onto his face, but when he touches it with his fingers he feels a very faint seam at the edge, and it doesn't budge against his hands. It felt like a second skin.
"There we go." Danny smiles, pulling his hands back. He still looks nervous. "It's not the same as my hockey mask," which sat atop his head, ready to be pulled down, "but I think a domino mask will work better for you considering your background."
He was right, a hockey mask would only hurt Damian's peripheral vision. This mask was thin enough that it didn't.
"Ready to go, Wraith?"
"After you, Phantom."
+++
Damian has much issue with Danny's suit. He can think of a million ways to make it better. It is one of the things he and Samantha Manson can get along with, and the few times they have spent time together they have brainstormed suit ideas. He knows that since Danny took him on as Wraith, he has started to look into better suit alternatives.
However. They are both aware of the same thing:
Danny is not Batman, nor Superman, nor Wonder Woman, nor Aquaman, or the Flash, or Green Arrow, or Nightwing, or any single hero on the public roster. He is also not rich like Lex Luthor or Vlad Masters or Bruce Wayne himself.
He has no money and no contacts, and thus, no way of properly improving his suit to be something even half as safe as the other supers.
And he refuses to let Samantha Manson help him find a way to fix that - even with all that money, Samantha Manson is on an allowance from her parents, and also, despite her other range of abilities, not capable of getting those materials without putting herself on a list of some sort. They are at a standstill.
Damian knows this, because he has asked.
Until one day when Danny is talking about a case he is working on and telling Damian about old adventures he had in the Ghost Zone, does he see his brother get hit with a lightbulb.
He slaps a hand against his forehead and straightens up from his swivel seat. He huffs a laugh, "Of course! Why didn't I think of it sooner?" And he turns on his heel and hurries to his bookshelf, pulling down a notebook and flipping open to an empty page.
Damian frowns, "Laeazir?"
"I know you don't like my suit, Damian," Danny says, striding over to his desk and snatching a pencil out of a cup. He begins jotting something down on the notebook. "And there's nothing I can really do about it because, well, I'm poor in comparison to my facesake, and I don't have the resources to get my hands on someone who would make me a new suit."
"Yes, we have talked about this..." Damian nods slowly, still frowning, and trying to follow his brother's line of reasoning.
Danny shoots him a megawatt, half-tilt smile, his hair tied up into a half-bun. "But! I was thinking about it from the wrong angle. I don't have the living resources to help me get a suit, but..." he trails off, staring at Damian intently.
It dinged in Damian's brain to where he was going, "But you have the undead resources instead." He says, his eyes widening slowly. Of course, of course! Danyal was ridiculously charismatic by accident, and Damian has seen plenty of times where his heart-of-gold had one or two non-hostile ghosts be incredibly grateful to him.
His brother makes a loud, 'ding-ding-ding!' sound, pointing his pencil at Damian as his smile stretches further across his face. In a few quick strides, he was sat down next to Damian and showing him his notebook. "Correct! When I first started out as Phantom a few years ago, I managed to help a ghost who called herself Taylor, and apparently she was a seamstress both in and out of life."
Damian watches as Danny writes the name at the top of the paper, and creates bullet-points down the page. "She said that in return for saving her, I should come find her in the Ghost Zone if I ever need clothes made for me. It's a one-time thing, but I was thinking that she could perhaps help make me a new suit."
Danny turns a bit pink at the ears, and rubs his neck, "I never thought much of it because I didn't think I'd ever go into the Ghost Zone, or ever need ghost clothes, so I forgot about it up until now."
A scoff forces itself out of Damian's mouth, but he is smiling. "Danyal, you are the smartest idiot I have ever met."
For the next hour, both he and Danny make a bullet point list of what both of their suits would need. Reinforcement in certain areas, gauntlets with reinforced knuckles to replace Danyal's jawbreakers. A different weapon than a bat.... a utility belt, reinforced boots. Anything they could think of.
It was Damian's idea to add a cloak to both of their suits, asymmetrical and torn at the edges for a more 'ghostly' look. They have a theme, after all. It's quite fun.
Then Danyal calls up Sam for help in drafting up design ideas. And while Danyal steps mostly to the side when it comes to the design itself, Damian and Sam fill pages with designs until coming up with one they both agreed on and like.
"What about a lightning bolt on the chest?" "Why are we using my traumatic accident as a symbol of my identity?" "Ghosts do it all the time, Danny. Ember sings about her death." "I'm not dead?" "No that won't work, Manson. Shazam already has a giant lighting bolt emblem." "Okay, but I still want to use it somewhere." "How about this?" "...That could work. Okay, now onto your emblem--"
Last was the hard part: getting into the Ghost Zone without the Fenton parents noticing the disappearance of their precious Fenton Specter Speeder. They employed Jazz's help with that. She would get the Fentons out of the house long enough for him and Danny to get into the ghost zone, hopefully find the seamstress, and cash in that favor.
They went through with their plan that following weekend. Danny tossed Damian a small jumpsuit as they both climbed into the specter speeder, but did not grab his own. He had a small duffle bag on him that he threw under the seat.
"What is this?" Damian asks, nose scrunching up at the gaudy picture of Jack Fenton's face square at the center of the chest. He held it far away from it, as if it had a disease.
"Your hazmat suit." Danny replies, settling himself into the driver's seat as the door hissed shut and he began turning it on. He had some sort of gas mask on in his lap, too small to fit Danny's head, but certainly the right size to fit Damian's. "Normally you wouldn't need it since you'd stay in the speeder, but we're both getting out once we find Taylor. It's to protect you from the ectoplasm."
A scowl forces itself across Damian's face, "You don't have one." He points out, finding seat in the passenger chair next to Danny. His arms cross over his chest, and he was not pouting.
Danny looks at him amusedly, "I have enough ectoplasm in my body that I don't need one, you however, do not." He retorts, poking a finger into Damian's ribcage pointedly. "If you don't put it on now, you'll put it on when we find Taylor."
Damian's scowl deepens, feeling petulant as he sunk into his chair. Danny turns back to the console and flips a few more switches. "I will not, it looks ridiculous." He turns it around to show Danny the Jack Fenton Face.
The Specter Speeder hums to life, and there's a moment of turbulence as it lifts off the ground. While it does, Danny turns back to him blankly, stares at the emblem, and then reaches forward and yanks it off with a scriiiiich of the emblem. He crumples it up with one hand, and throws it into a small bin at his feet.
"There, fixed." He smiles. Then turns back to the controls, taking the yoke with both hands. "And I'm calling Dad Rights; you will put it on when we find Taylor or you'll stay in the speeder."
Damian sputters, sitting up incredulously. "You are not my father." He argues.
"Teeechnically, I am." Danny says, "I'm a clone of your father, and since I am fully his clone, that makes you my son by a technicality." He says cheerfully, pushing the specter speeder forward and into the swirling green portal.
Before Damian can retort, they're passing through the portal. This was his first time going into the Ghost Zone, and for a few seconds there was nothing but bright, swirling green filling his vision. His body felt like it was being twisted and pulled, his up and down reversing and returning. It was painless, but dizzying.
It only lasts for a few seconds, but it feels like a minute, and when they exit out the other side, Damian is holding his head while his vision spots and swims. Internally, he felt like those cartoon characters when their eyeballs rolled around in their head.
The dizziness fades away slowly, and as Damian regains his sight, he notices Danny's hand splayed over his sternum, gently keeping him pressed against his seat. It fell away when Danny saw that he was alright.
"Put your seatbelt on," Danny orders, nodding to his chair. Damian listens absently, before remembering their conversation before they went through the portal.
"That is not how it works." He scowls, and, annoyingly, only gets a challenged eyebrow raise from Danny. He could see the words written on his face without Danyal ever having to say it.
Because, dangit, he was technically right. Damian refuses to say this aloud. He screws his jaw shut, and crosses his arms back across his chest.
Danny chuckles under his breath, and turns his eyes back to the ghost zone. "My point still stands, either you wear the suit, or you don't leave the speeder."
"Fine."
+++
They eventually find where the seamstress is. Through quite a lot of Danny stopping to ask questions with any friendly ghost he came across, they eventually locate an island with a strange, urban city bustling with life on it. Massive, rocky stalagmites grew from the ground, and buildings were built on top of it or around it, with strange, warping architecture.
It was oddly beautiful.
Danny parked the speeder on the side of the street with a two hour parking sign on a nearby post. As he turned off the engine, he flipped a switch on the console that darkened the windows. He unbuckles his seat, and stood up, stretching out his back with a deep groan.
"Alright, put your suit on. The windows are tinted, so nobody should be able to see into the speeder." He orders, pulling out the duffle he brought in earlier and unzipping it. He pulls out his hockey mask and the hoodie he wore out for patrol, and the notebook they'd been using to jot down ideas for their suit.
Danny even had the hindsight to write in their respective heights, and with Tucker's help, some of their measurements. While he did that, Damian sourly pulled on his hazmat suit, irritated by the need to wear it.
Unfortunately, he also had to wear the boots and gloves for 'extra precaution'. Damian nearly bites out a grumpy 'you're as paranoid as father', but holds his tongue. He wasn't going to tell Danyal that secret.
Once he was done and Danny has his hockey mask and hoodie on, Danny grabs the gas mask and helps fit it over Damian's face. It was a sleek, simple design, shaped similarly to a regular face mask, with little filters on both sides of the mouth and a clear, protective covering around the eyes and forehead. Danyal improved it from the original his parents made.
He was smarter than he gave himself credit for.
Danny checks, then double checks that it the mask is tight, then smiles. Patting Damian's shoulders before standing up fully. "Taylor's shop should be somewhere nearby." He says, grabbing the notebook and tucking it under his arm.
Damian nods, and follows him out the door and onto the busy streets.
Finding Taylor becomes remarkably quick now that they were inside her city - something that Damian silently wondered was based loosely off NYC. Danny kept a firm arm around Damian's shoulders the entire time they walked down the street, keeping the both of them on the inside sidewalk.
Barely anyone passed them a second glance, spare the few odd looks shot at Damian. Danny whispers to him the first time it happens that it's because he has no ghost core, those more attune to their signatures might've been picking up on it.
They didn't notice Danny, because he had one, albeit a weak one.
Taylor's shop has a big sign on it in logographic writing that Damian has no idea how to read. The text shifts slowly, a jambled squiggle of lines, dots, and connected curves that look like a mix of messy cursive, gibberish, and logographic alphabets. He only knows its Taylor's shop because Danny pulls them towards it, stating that it was the place.
"You can read that?" He asks, incredulous as they draw closer to the door. Danny moves his arm off his shoulder, and wraps his fingers around Damian's instead.
"Yep," He replies, then scrunches his nose up, "sort of. It's - uh--" he stumbles over a word that Damian's ears cannot comprehend, but fills his head with slight static regardless. Danny winces. "It's the written form of ghostspeak, but since I'm not a ghost, I can only read some of it. Like uh, dyslexia."
"...I see." Damian says after a moment of silence, trying to replay the word in his head. His mind can't grasp the sound.
When they enter, the door doesn't ding with the sound of a bell, but rather it makes a low scream. Nobody bats an eye to the sound, keeping to their slow search through the racks of clothes.
At the counter was a woman talking quietly to another woman, one of whom Danny recognizes, as he walks over to her.
He doesn't need to say anything, because the woman behind the counter sees him coming, and her face positively lights up with delight. "Phantom!" She cries, and gestures to come over. "I was wondering when in the high ancients you were going to come see me!"
Danny's face is obscured by his mask, but Damian knows he's smiling sheepishly with the way he tilts his head and the way he tenses his shoulders. "My bad, Miss Taylor," he says, reaching the counter and standing beside the woman she was talking to, "It kinda... slipped my mind."
Taylor waves her hand dismissively, "Well you are here now!" She replies, grinning wide. Then her eyes pop open - literally - and she puts a hand over her chest. "Oh, how rude of me!" She turns and gestures between Phantom and the lady next to him, "Miss Mabam, this is Phantom. I told you about him a couple of years ago. He saved me from humans. Phantom, this is Gigi Mabam, she funds my shop. In return I make clothes for her and her staff."
The 'Gigi' woman turns just as Danny does, and smiles wide at him. Damian narrows his eyes at her, shuffling behind Danny legs as he looked her up and down. She had silvery-white hair and purple skin, and wore a darker purple business suit, a red gem cravat at her collar, and teal cat-eye glasses.
There was a lot of purple.
"So this is the ghost-touched you were telling me about, dear!" The woman, Mabam, said. Her voice was rich and low but she spoke in a whimsical cadence. It made Damian's skin crawl, and his narrowed eyes turned into a glare. "I must thank you for saving my seamstress, it would've been quite a fizzy-wink if she had been lost to those ghosty hunters."
What were those nonsense words? Damian hated it.
"Miss Mabam here runs a five-star hotel nearby," Taylor explains, her body turned to Danny, "she also is in charge of the city's Battle Nexus."
Danny is silent for a moment, and his free hand lifts and places itself on the back of Damian's head, keeping him close. "Battle Nexus...?"
Mabam claps cheerfully, laughing low, "Oh yes! Ghosts from all around the zone come to attend and watch as their fellow haunties are ripped from limbity-limb in a blood-curdling battle!"
Danny is still as stone. "I see." He says, careful. Damian wraps his fingers around his pant leg. "Well, I hate to interrupt your conversation, but I was hoping to cash in that favor, Miss Taylor?"
"Of course! What do you need?"
Danny looks down at Damian, and he looks up at him, locking eyes with the ominous green glowing from the eyeslits of his mask. He nods, and Danny looks back up. "Do you know how to make suits? Of the protective kind?"
+++
The seamstress it turns out, is capable of such a thing. And she ushers the both of them into one of the backrooms, sending off Mabam with a farewell and a promise to continue their conversation soon.
She flips through their design book, and immediately gets to work making their suits. In the end, with the help of her powers, she gets both done over the span of four hours. It's longer than both Danny and Damian want, but neither rush her.
Damian just hopes that Jasmine can keep the Fenton parents distracted for that long. She will have to.
The suits are better in real life than on paper, and Damian preens from the side in his own custom suit as Danny examines his own in front of the three mirrors. They were both dressed in all black, but whatever fabric Taylor used was of a blackest-black, turning Danyal - and Damian's - bodies into a black hole to look at. Both of them were fitted for agility, with reinforced padding around their shoulders and chests, as well as around the joints of their legs. Their boots were reinforced as well.
("It was hard to make your boots shock absorbent," Taylor explains, "since we all fly, but I applied similar stuff to what I did with your shoulders and chestplate.")
On the side of Danyal's legs were raised, black, lichtenberg-like figures that were contained to the seams and disappeared under his boots. There were similar designs going up his sleeves, with spiked gauntlets wrapped around his lower arm and hands. The knuckles were reinforced, just like he wanted.
Damian's favorite parts were their capes, however. Black like the rest of the outfit, but "wrapped" around their shoulders like an apocalyptic shawl with a back that went down to their knees, and at the hems the capes were torn and ripped like a wraith. Danyal's mask had gone through very little change. It was made of a stronger material, and Taylor had gone and made it more skull-like in its shape, with three large grills at the front, and the sides curving inward below the 'cheekbones' of the skull to better fit his face. It was still shock white, the only white part of Danyal's entire costume.
Damian's suit was almost identical. However, rather than having the seams of his suit resemble lichtenberg figures, the seams of his sleeves and upper torso were that of a black skeleton, with bone-y designs over his gauntlets and the fingers an ombre of dark red-to-black. And around his torso were raised lines that looked similar to a ribcage. The edge of his cloak was splatter a dark red as well. And he had a new domino mask that looked similar to the upper half of Danyal's mask, with the outer edges curved downward over his cheekbones. He was briefly allowed to take off the upper part of his gas mask to try on the mask.
The best part however, was that since the suits were made of material native to the ghost zone, they could also be taken off quickly and hidden in a small artifact. It was magic, is what it was. Danyal chose earrings, and Damian chose a ring.
When they got back to the Fenton house, Jazz demands a box of chocolate for her hard work. Damian thinks that's only fair as Danny takes them both out to get candy for Jazz.
+++
But other than vigilante stuff, not else much changes. Danny gets to pull a "Dad By Technicality Rule" card over Damian when he's being a brat. Danny doesn't have his run in with Rift (a ghost who portals him into Gotham) until after he meets Damian/lets Damian join him on patrol and when they get new suits.
My reason? Because I want it to happen after that point in time lol. It also makes the eventual "heyyyyy you have a clone" @ bruce much funnier to me because not only does he have a clone of HIMSELF but also THAT clone has a clone of Damian living with him.
Also when Danny destabilizes for the first time Damian is terrified for his safety. The fentons are surprisingly good at cloning, Danny hasn't had any issues up until this point in time, and that's only because he got hit with a new gun from Skulker that messed up the ectoplasm he had in his dna, which in term fucked with his own DNA.
Danny's destabilization, imo, is not "I cast you with Melt" he's not Ellie, he's not made of 50% ectoplasm. His parents surprisingly knew what they were doing, and he was human. So his destabilization should be unique to himself and different. Thus his destabilization is "I cast you with Compromised Immune System" his body slowly weakens over time as his cells destabilize. He becomes unnaturally frail and sick. Damian calls Ellie for help when Danny doesn't get up after being hit in a fight that he normally, and Ellie helps figure out that he's destabilizing. This is whats gonna happen in OG clone au too, but Ellie is going to be there rather than Damian.
It makes going to Wayne Manor after that slightly more interesting,,,
#dpxdc crossover#dpxdc#dp x dc#dp x dc crossover#danny fenton is not the ghost king#danny fenton is a clone#damian clone au#i couldnt NOT describe their new suits. i just couldn't. they're leaning into the ghost culture of being scary as fuck looking#i feel a little cheesy for giving them magic jewelry that lets them hide their suits instantly#but i have to make up for danny's lack of ghost form SOMEHOW#damian just gets it too by association#if anyone is curious#Ellie's ghost form is identical to Danny's suit just the colors are inverted. so her suit is all white and her mask is all black#its not a starry au unless its got a read more#did anyone notice the Big Mama cameo from ROTTMNT#its because Danny's mask looks like Casey Jones Jr's mask from ROTTMNT without the red marks on the eyes#Danny and Damian's dynamic itches my brain#Danny: im calling Dad Rights - youre grounded#Damian: nnOOOO#also also. danny uses sign language if he's in view of the living since they could recognize his voice. damian does not yet know ASL#so thats on his 'languages to learn' list#although he is not seen by the public since he has school and ghost attacks happen around danny and not him#Red Huntress gives the Phantom so much shit when she sees his sidekick. Phantom tiredly explains that he had no choice - Wraith would have#come with anyways. truly a robin at heart.#“idc if you say no imma do vigilantism ANYWAY. i dont NEED ur permission” is robincore and bruce/danny going#“fine but i'm gonna make sure you dont DIE then”#clone^2
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thisismisogynoir · 2 months
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I love it when women hate men. I love it when women are allowed to vent to each other about how horrible and creepy men are. I love it when women form friendships with and prioritize each other over relationships with men(whether they're attracted to them or not). I love it when women put men dni in their bios and on their nude photos and on posts on their blogs. I love it when women refuse to mollycoddle and accommodate entitled male feelings with "but this doesn't mean I hate all men, I know a few men who are great, I love my father/sons/brothers/uncles/male cousins/guy friends" I love it when women complain about men WITHOUT "not all men" being a disclaimer. I love it when women avoid socializing with/refuse to be around/befriend/get close to men because they know men can't be trusted. I love it when women make "kill all men" jokes. I love it when women offer absolutely no concern or care for men's feelings and if their misandry offends men whatsoever because why should we, men are the oppressor class who have raped and killed and abused us and kept us as subjugated as second-class citizens for millennia, they regularly mistreat us and the women in their own marginalized communities still every single day and make this world so much harder and more awful for us to be in, and if we choose to hate them and not spare them any sympathy then so be it, and I don't just mean "men as a class" either, you can be a woman who doesn't want to have anything to do with any man on an individual basis and completely cuts off men from her personal life too and ykw I will love and fucking support you in that because men deserve absolutely NOTHING from us. If they're so tough and strong then they can handle it just like they can handle being lonely. If you are a woman who hates men, ESPECIALLY IF YOU ARE A LESBIAN AND/OR A TRANS WOMAN, then just know that I love you. I love you, I support you, and you are safe here.
#was going to make a post about how much i hate that women aren't allowed to hate their oppressors but i decided to spin it into something#positive instead#this is supposed to be the feminist site that makes reddit mgtow piss their baby diapers so let's go back to despising men and not coddling#their feelings and let's dye our hair blue while we're at it#i am so tired of this new wave of guilt-tripping and gaslighting women who hate men and don't trust or want to be around them#i hate how we're made into villainesses or the problematic ones for not valuing them in our lives or for wanting to guard ourselves or be#safe from our oppressors#and i'm tired of people who don't know the first thing about feminism being like 'BUT THAT'S TERF RHETORIC WHAT ABOUT X MINORITY MEN'#guess what women can also be x minority that you're trying to protect the men of and we get to hate men too#trans women are included when i say women btw and trans men are included when i say men#if anyone has the right to hate men more than anybody else it's trans women esp trans lesbians because they put up with so much shit#from men that even cis women do not and they especially know how vile men are behind closed doors#so#terfs fuck off#radfems fuck off#and if anybody tries to make this post more appeasing to men or 'not all men's this post you are getting blocked and hit with a hammer#feminism#misogyny#sexism#patriarchy#tw men#tw rape#tw abuse#misandry#terfs dni#radfems dni#feminists need to go back to being scary and unpalatable for men none of this 'but some of them are good!' bullshit#men are entitled to nothing from us#and if you try to prove me wrong then you are just proving my point if you have nothing good to say then simply keep scrolling#ok? ok.
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scarycranegame · 18 days
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guys. guys listen.
if you wanna write and/or post a fanfic but are worried that no one will like it.
do not be worried. at all.
because even if no one else is interested, YOU are. you enjoy this idea. you're passionate about this concept. you should write for YOU, not for potential critics.
and even besides that, i guarantee you that there's at least 1 other person out there who would also enjoy your fic. it's essentially statistically impossible for you to be the only person on the planet who thinks the way you do, and enjoys the themes and ideas and characters and settings that you do.
write it. post it. take pride in the fact that you created something that you value. your fic exists, and that in of itself is amazing.
antis dni, this isn't about you or the graphic threats of harm you send to real people whom you dislike. get a real hobby.
proship/comship/profiction/etc. safe!
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dailyloopdeloop · 3 days
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DAY 71: shy
#codacheetah#isat#loop isat#isabeau isat#isat spoilers#i'll never get over loop being described as 'shy'. what a wonderful image#top one casual remarks from isabeau that cleaves loop's facade#like loop's personality is just a targeted missile to piss siffrin off. they're not at all confident and snarky#they're doing like the physical manifestation of winning an argument against yourself in the shower#second they see the party though Oopsies we're in scary territory. That's your family and they dont know it's you Oops#ok anyways ever since i saw that post i was like damn. this is just how i view loop in party postcanon#for as much as I think they SHOULD go explore around and be their own person for a while i think realistically they would not do that.#theyre going to go be a weird freak hovering around the party and refusing to socialize with anyone but siffrin and theyre gonna feel awful#(read: they're going to antagonize siffrin and it fails tremendously bc now The Rumor Come Out and siffrin knows what loop is doing.)#like loop as much as they can barely stand to even look at isabeau (for instance) i think their claws are sunk far too deep in.#onehats maybe the circumstances are different because there is a gap in understanding. there's no point forcing siffrin to confront the#obvious conclusion that loop is them (and thus siffrin's happy ending nails loop's coffin)#(THIS IS IGNORING TWOHATS PREREQS GOTTEN ONEHATS. BC THATS ITS OWN CAN OF WORMS)#but twohats. idk. for as much as it lets loop release some of their rage and process their feelings a bit. i think it might also be the pus#that makes loop consider their own existence as a person a bit more. theyre not a sponsor->corpse theyre just loop#theyre just somebody who wants desperately. they want to stay with them#theyre still siffrin. if also loop.#i think loop would force themself to reconnect with the party in the same vein as siffrin forcing himself to communicate more.#but of course having conviction and living an experience are not the same thing. so siffrin's going to flounder the emotional honesty thing#tremendously and loop's going to be. blair witching it in the corner.#hey i might have forgotten which post i was writing the tags under. oopsies#idk if these tags are comprehensible at all. i just really want to see loop fail upwards into friendship with everyone
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gaeasun · 1 year
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Navy Seals train for about 2 1/2 years. Clone troopers train their whole lives, and say if they start physical training at 7/14 that’s 3 years.
What I’m saying is we should take the competence of any trooper and multiply it by at least five.
Even the most standard trooper is equal to any elite operative. I’m talking about Captain America and Winter Soldier rolled into one. They’re so accurate it’s terrifying. They can sprint like it’s the Olympics and barely be winded. They can and do tear droids apart with their bare hands. For fun.
ARC troopers? One man army, able to keep up with the Jedi. The Padawans all check and double check if they have the Force because they can’t even do that. When all is lost send in an ARC and they will win 1000:1 odds. The originals have to be kept in storage because the Kaminoans look at them and remember what fear feels like. They can take any weapon and find a way to level a city with it. The only limit an ARC has is numbers.
And Marshall Commanders. Legends. Death. Fox’s armor is red with blood mixed with the sand of the Geonosis and painted with a promise of vengeance. Cody’s armor is the rising sun of his victory, glorious and inevitable. If Neyo knows someones name, he also knows what they’re going to eat tommorow. They say Bacara simply can’t be killed.
Anyways. Just. Any and all the clone troopers pushing every limit.
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redwinterroses · 4 months
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There’s a cherry tree in the middle of the redwood forest.
False isn’t sure what to make of that. She shifts her grip on the staff in her hand, its pale glow reflecting faintly off the fresh snow. She’s come out here for resources—the vault altar is demanding logs, and these giant trees are an easy source—but the incongruous sight of an enormous, blossoming cherry tree sending pink petals wafting on the frozen wind…
She wonders if this is what fish feel like, when they see a lure.
“Hello?” she calls, her voice echoing off the trees. The world stands in permanent semi-twilight here, and the deeper shadows hide the mobs that will venture out come nightfall. A sneak of creepers is bedded down in a sweetberry bramble just on the other side of the clearing, and False tenses when the lead boar lifts his head, but he apparently doesn’t deem her worth stalking so early in the day. 
There is no other reaction to her call.
False is of half a mind just to head back home and farm her own dang trees. It’s not like the vaultar is picky about the kinds of logs—she could just as easily grow up a bunch of birch and throw those in there. But that will take so much longer… not to mention she’s not sure if there are even enough saplings in her storage.
She unhooks her enchantment-glittered axe from her belt and pauses to mentally poke at her mana reserves. Plenty high. Whatever’s lingering near this tree, it can hardly be worse than what she deals with on the daily in the vaults. Overworld dangers are barely a challenge anymore.
The logic of that doesn’t change the uneasy feeling that buzzes over her skin though. 
Venturing further into the clearing. False’s gaze traces up the trunk of the cherry tree, following its branches to where they terminate in lush bursts of pink and white blooms. A sweet smell drifts on the wind. She wrinkles her nose, reminded of compost piles and fermented spiders’ eyes. 
The tree’s branches stretch long and low—a canopy of their own, heavy with flowers and dark, glossy leaves. The space underneath is filled with falling flowers and a fog of pollen, the air moisture-thick like a lush cave.
Lifting one hand, False catches a falling petal on her fingertip.
It sizzles as it touches her skin, stinging and buzzing like live redstone.
She hisses through her teeth, shaking her hand and letting the petal fall to the forest floor. “What the heck?”
Another petal tumbles past her face, and she watches it with narrowed eyes—right until it fizzles out of existence a few pixels above the forest floor.
“Glitch,” she mutters. “That’s… not good.”
Iskall needs to know about this—it could be a bug from one of the new updates, or it could be something deeper in the code, but either way: this glitched tree is a problem. She’s probably lucky it just stung her.
She reaches for her communicator, raising it to take a pic of the cherry tree.
“Oh, hi there, False!”
False yelps, spinning around with her axe ready to swing.
Gem is standing behind her, a wreath of cherry blossoms tangled in her hair and antlers, leaning casually on a tall staff of blooming cherry wood. Her smile is wide, and sap flows over her fingers, pale golden, dripping down her arms to leave dark spots on the faded denim of her overalls.
“Gem!” False lowers her axe. “Oh my gosh, you scared me. I didn’t know you were doing Vault Hunters.”
“Hm?” Gem raises one eyebrow, and for a moment her eyes flicker to red and then purple before settling back on green. “Oh—I’m not doing Vault Hunters, False.” Her voice is amused, almost chiding.
“Oh.” False feels unexpectedly small—which is impressive, considering she’s nearly half a block taller than Gem. 
More of the glitched petals fall, resting on Gem’s hair and slowly melting into it like snowflakes. The brief moment of relief when False had seen Gem’s familiar grin is fading into something like the sensation of freefall. 
“What’cha up to?” Gem asks, and her face blinks from one expression to the next like a bad video message. Her clothes are blue—no, green—no, bloodstained and grey—no, blue. They’ve always been blue.
False takes a step back.
“Uh, not much…” she glances up at the redwoods. “Just doing some… resource gathering. You know.”
“Cool!” Gem giggles, and stands up straight. False tenses, but Gem only spins around her staff and waves a hand at the glitched tree. “I didn’t realize this was an occupied server—are there many people here?”
There’s a buzzing in False’s skull, and she blinks rapidly. A muscle twitches under her eye. 
“Um…”
“I guess it doesn’t really matter.” Gem lifts one hand and grabs one of the lowest branches of the cherry tree. She really should not have been able to reach that.
Swinging herself up with the lithe, effortless strength of a cat, she perches on the limb and stares down at False. The grin is gone from her face now, and she looks down at False with bright eyes.
“Etho’s not here, is he?”
False opens her mouth to answer, the words yes, of course he is, I can take you to him heavy on her lips… And with effort, she swallows them back. 
They taste of sweet rot.
“Why... why doesn’t what matter?” she asks instead.
Gem stares at her for a long moment, expressionless. The flowers woven through her antlers are growing of their own accord, twining up to caress their brethren in the branches overhead. 
Then she smiles broadly, flashing teeth that nearly glow white in the dappled shadows. “Oh!” she exclaims. “No reason! I’m only passing through, is all.”
“You’re not… you’re not sticking around?” False tries—and mostly fails—to sound disappointed.
“Naaaaah…” Gem stands and walks along the branch, as secure and balanced as if it were a stone floor. The flowers in her hair flow along behind her, sliding from the branches and falling like a cape down her back. “Worldhopping is easy. Staying in one spot is way harder.” 
False watches the flowers move and swirl, their smooth, strange motion ensnaring her attention. The buzzing is back, too. Like bees, drunk on honey and sleepy in their hive.
“World hopping…?” she manages. “With admin commands?”
Gem’s laugh is as brilliant as a knife and as sharp as a spark. “False!” she crows. “You say the funniest things.”
False laughs. It seems appropriate. She isn’t sure why.
“Anyway,” Gem continues, fading into one patch of blossoms and reappearing on the other side of it. Her eyes are sprays of cherry flowers now. Her antlers are branches. “Anyway, cherry trees are all the same. They make it easy to get around.”
“That…” doesn’t make sense, False wants to say. But her lips are heavy, and coated in sticky sap. Maybe it doesn’t really matter.
“Oops! Behind you, False!” 
Gem’s chirped warning is flaked in glee, and False turns around, as slow as if her feet are buried in soul sand.
The creepers she had seen—the entire sneak—are standing behind her, pink flowers blooming from their eyes. 
“Oh no.”
The boar’s blinded head snaps toward her voice, hissing. He starts to aggro, bioluminescent streaks flashing from his snout to flanks in increasingly-swift pulses of light.
“See ya in season ten, False!” Gem cries out cheerfully.
The axe drops from False’s nerveless fingers, trailing strings of sap. She smells the inescapable stench of burning gunpowder, overlaid with rot.
“...Dangit.”
[FalseSymmetry was blown up by a creeper]
~*~
Jerking upright in her own bed, False swipes wildly at her face, trying to smear away tree sap that isn’t there. 
“What the heck, Gem?” she exclaims at her empty base. Her voice falls flat, swallowed up by the sky that surrounds her builds. The clock above her head ticks impatiently, and she huffs in frustration, pushing up out of her bed. All her tools, gone—her levels, gone... and after all that she still needs those logs for the vault. 
Grumbling, she starts pulling backup gear from various chests, trying to cobble together something that can get her back to the redwood grove before her items despawn—assuming they hadn’t all been obliterated by a second or third creeper explosion. She glances at the vaulter, and freezes.
It’s been completed. The crystal floats gently atop the stone pedestal, gleaming with an inner light. 
And, tumbled at the base of the vaulter—abandoned, more than was needed to fill the crystal’s requirements:
Half a stack of cherry logs.
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pippalovestunabrick · 2 months
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Nureyev: It's so strange. Even after everything we've been through I still find it so difficult to talk about my... how I feel.
Juno: It's scary. I get it. You don't have to if you don't want to.
Nureyev: It is frightening, yes. But that doesn't stop you. I think I respect that about you a great deal.
Perhaps what I'm trying to say is... I feel rather vulnerable around you. And it is a difficult time for me to feel vulnerable. If I have taken that out on you, I am genuinely very sorry.
I'm glad you're here. I don't think I could have made it through everything without you.
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I absolutely positively could not prevent myself from drawing this scene!! Now that the ep's been out a few days, here you go tumblr
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biggestsalmonfan · 1 year
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Like if you love Scary Marlowe. Reblog to nuke Willy Stampler.
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endrimer · 1 month
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unseeleigh · 1 year
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Scary keeps saying she has a tummy ache has me so sad. This poor girl is so cut off from basically any of her emotions and herself in general that she doesn't realize that what's happening is she's feeling Guilt. "This is making my stomach hurt worse" yeah I bet it does honey Link isn't letting you run away from what you've done
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