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the-frozen-pheonix · 9 months

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Frozen Dew Dro’

The originally mischievous duo-turned trio that had terrorized the DWMA had turned out to be just what each of them needed. The twins having trouble finding a meister, and Freeze the same trouble with weapons-that the unlikely outcome of their mischief being a trio to rival Freeze’s brother, Death the Kidd-was a surprise to all but Lord Death proper.

None of this had been achieved without the blonde and his two dastardly cohorts having grown close. To say they were triplets was pushing the billet for sure, but Freeze was confident to say there was no one closer to Darla and Drew than he himself, and he was proud to say the same for the twins himself. Time had passed.

Months. A year. Two. Small interactions built up. They learned his greatest fear. Being left alone. Alienated. Especially from those he loved. Freeze’s relationship with the twins gained a personal touch to each. He and Andrew would game together time to time. He would enjoy specific things with Darla. But where there was a brotherhood with Andrew, there was a romantic attraction for Darla. One that seemed to be mutual.

The trouble started small, but never seemed like anything to be worried with. Drew wasn’t the biggest fan of Freeze and Darla’s time together-seeing the romantic interest the two took in one another. From time to time nasty and hurtful things might be said in off moments, but time and time again they were forgotten or brushed under the rug in hope for better times ahead.

Freeze was a big advocate each thing having it’s fine and it’s place. This saw the topic of Drew’s displeasure being shutdown just as often as Darla’s fancies towards the blonde would be. Also saw the blonde change some compared to when the twins first met him. Not drastically, but as time goes people can alter ever so slightly.

Madness was something Freeze was plagued by. Something he hid away and suffered with alone-more and more often. But it was something the twins surely knew.

One mission saw things come to a head. He was a tough meister to the twins-any weapons really. He pushed anyone that worked with him to the absolute limit of what they had to offer him-each time. And the twins had always risen to the challenge. He was unrelenting in their missions however, and today was a particularly tough day.

The toughest so far.

Flail mace was covered and stuck with viscera,-more of a meaty blunt weapon bound to a stick by a chain that only eluded rust due to Darla’s properties. Nothing new. Axe head had just as much of Freeze’s blood on it as it did foreign, and was just as stuck with gore, though Andrews blade still peeled out from the mess, and held onto pieces of enemies with less ferocity than his sisters spiked ball-head. Things has started graceful and swift, the twin swords being useful with the males speed and agility. This mission was simple. Beat out a group of baddies. It wasn’t a particularly bad nest of them-so said intel.

Freeze was insane, period. But it truly shined the longer combat went on. Resonance for their missions normally lasted around 15 minutes at the longest, but he’d been known to push them and hour or two in training. Slowly, but surely pushing the twins to a level he knew they were capable, but maybe not so willing to be sent to. The twins were with him though. They were his closest. His best. And they stood beside him no matter what it seemed.

Intel had been wrong, It was hour 4 by now, the resonance was sturdy but there was serious damage. The blonde struggled to keep himself in check, he could tell the twins were past their limits. Without a witch soul, a demon weapon was never complete in its power. It was dangerous for death to use less powerful weapons. Freeze elicited that same danger at times. It was bearing a point that he’d either have to risk one or both of twins, or lose himself completely. Who knew how long it would take him out of play. Who knew if he’d recover. He understood his value as an asset. The twins were powerful. They were good. But I’m this line of work, they were catalyst for power. Power that Freeze had. And they weren’t the only catalyst there were.

Freeze had done all he could. Ice covered the entire complex in some way. He pained and bled from wounds that would have pushed the resonance too far to block with the twins. They were stronger than his sane ice powers. Than his fists. Kicks. So he only used them for offense now. Even mixing in kicks and punches to leverage the limit they’d all been pushed past. But it didn’t stop. The insane amount he asked from the two normally was nothing compared to today. Other had spoken about how crazy it was, while the death scythes around and instructors had held tongue. This was a level behind what anyone knew but those who had experienced it. Pure and unstopping violence.

One last enemy. One last push. For each. Next. Thing. It’s all that kept him moving. All he could tell the two he weld to keep them going.

Then suddenly-it stopped. The resonance ended and as far as the twins were concerned, they weren’t being pushed. It wasn’t obvious to the two that the blonde had dropped them to finish one last baddy by himself. It didn’t show that he’d doubled over and spilled blood and lunch from his maw. That he cleared his composure as best he could before picking up the twins, and reassuring them.

Once transformed, Andrew lit Freeze up. About his sister. About pushing them. People, Everything. The older male stonewalled, and took it-doing his best to be fine with the harsh words. They’ll pass. They’ll be fine. Then-Andrew pushed it a step farther than before. He shoved Freeze, and made a threat that challenged the status quo they had built. A consistent life that saw them with Freeze everyday. The reason he smiled most often. The comrades he fought alongside. Possibly gone.

“You really feel that way? Fine, fucker. Hit me. Speak with your actions!”

And he did. Freeze retaliated with a slap, Drew another hit, another Freeze blocked. Andrew threw another bit. And another. More and more connected. Aimed at his weak points. Drew wasn’t stupid. He knew how to fight and win in a scrap…. He’d just forgotten Freeze wasn’t exactly normal or seemed.

Each hit hurt though. More than one would ever think. Because Freeze could think through it all. A bit to an open wound, an attempt at the balls. Eyes. Head. Head. Head. Fingers, joints. Weak spots. Places Freeze identified as weak. Andrew was fighting with hate. And it was hurting.

Eyes misted as he stood and took the beating, Darla watching on as the clash between two firm men just tuned into a wailing on the blue eyed lad.

A single wound up hit-making contact with Freeze’s cheek. It didn’t budge, but it brought the dark haired male twin eye-to-eye with the blonde-years now streaming down his face as the features on his white complexion trembled with emotion. Combat spoke more words than one could ever hope to communicate any other way-and Freeze had just received what May or may not have been the full extent of Andrew feelings.

In response, through the same method of symbolism to get a point across-the crying Freeze would hug Andrew right and tight-like family. Give a kiss on the cheek to him as well, then adopt a stoic manner and start an unabated path away from the two, using his power over ice to skate away from the two in a method unable to be tailed.

Their pick up would be along shortly, and Andrews message-be it that or just anger, or that of true heart-has been received. And a message in return for both the twins.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t enough. I love you…. Goodbye.”

@inseparableduo

#inseparableduo #dribble #dribble drabble #writing out the feels

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lauravian · 8 months

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“Don’t let it get to that big head of yours, Merlin.

I just… thought you were dead.”

#is there a fic like this out there ..#because I need it..#or if anyone feels like writing a little something for this scene please do so it would make me the happiest person in the world #bbc Merlin #merthur #Merlin #merlin bbc #merlin emrys #arthur pendragon #my art

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kymsys · 3 months

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'It was late spring, the first time all year that the sunshine had any real strength behind it. Satoru was wittering on about something inane as always — Tentomon or something equally ridiculous.

There was nothing special about the moment. Not really. Except for the fact that Satoru had shrugged off his jacket in the heat. It was draped around his shoulders just so, exposing the long column of his throat, pale after a long winter. Really, there was nothing special about the moment. But when Suguru looked at the boy silhouetted against the spring sky, bright and blue and boundless and beautiful — just like his eyes, Suguru thought — his heart skipped a beat all the same. With all the sight afforded to him, Satoru never missed a thing. So it was risky, what Suguru did. Later, when he was looking at his new phone wallpaper under the cover of darkness, grinning like an idiot, he'd wonder how he ever got away with it. Yet, if Suguru's yearning to capture that perfectly ordinary moment forever was stronger than all reason, perhaps it was stronger than the Six Eyes, too. After all, not even Satoru could stop time.' - by my beloved @fushiglow ♥

(( also glo says: FUN FACT! Tentomon is voiced by Suguru's VA — ergo it's Satoru's favourite Digimon, obviously )) ---------------------------------------------------------

freshly added headcanons: • gojo at some point randomly barged into sugurus room and put glowy stickers all over his ceiling • suguru has gojo as his phone wallpaper, but keeps it a secret • suguru is a hamasaki ayumi fan • the cinnamoroll phone charm is from gojo who spent almost an eternity getting that out of a gatcha machine for him • they were happy

#look what glo did #pls all go check out glos writing #so basically i made a small little sketch of gojo and the glo came up with this whole ass cute story around it #AND I LOVED IT SO MUCH THAT I HAD TO DRAW IT #and here we are #i love them so much #i feel very normal about them #gojo satoru #geto suguru #jujutsu kaisen #satosugu #stsg #jjk #kymsys art

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astearisms · 9 months

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fionna and cake drawings before and after watching the episodes so far. it’s nostalgic and somehow cathartic and poignant and relatable and—it just started

#i’m part of the demographic where i was a kid when adventure time started and now watching fionna and cake as an adult makes me emotional #because did they keep us in mind when writing fionna and her attitude towards life #the dissatisfaction #the hoping for something more #something more magical than this dreary life filled with working to live and living to work #it’s so reflective of how life feels for me and perhaps many of us #and also Simon’s episode was so sad but so well thought out #exploring his feelings after the events of the adventure time finale is something I’m glad we get to see #there were already so many layers to his character in AT but now it feels like we get to dive deeper #I also felt emotional hearing Rebecca Sugar singing and writing a song that encapsulates his feelings so well #😭 it’s been awhile seeing her work exist alongside these characters #and all of these emotions get stronger because I remember AT being the one to inspire me to be a storyboard artist #when I was younger I used to follow many of the board artists here in tumblr and would get so inspired by them #to create simple but powerful boards that can capture the feelings of characters so well #Rebecca Sugar’s songs for the AT characters inspired me so much too #I’m sorry this is long I’m just feeling so many things experiencing all of this again as an adult #my art #fanart #adventure time #fionna and cake #fionna the human #cake the cat #simon petrikov

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tarabyte3 · 3 months

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Hey fanfiction writers: If no one's ever told you this before, it's not just fanfiction.

It's something you spent hours, days, maybe even months on, pouring your heart out onto a page because you were so full of passion and thoughts about a story or characters, you felt like you were going to explode if you didn't get it out. Maybe you lost sleep because your mind was racing with ideas or you forgot to eat or drink water because you were so focused. Maybe your back aches from being hunched over for so long, unmoving. Maybe you even felt like you were going a little feral because you were so excited about what you were creating, or were frustrated when you got stuck. Either way, you put your heart, mind, soul, and body into making something.

It's okay to want people to read it, and it's okay if you're disappointed that they don't or it doesn't get as much of a reaction as you were hoping for. Humans are social creatures. Sure, we write for ourselves, but we also share because the joy of doing so is just as powerful as the joy of the process. Of having created something.

We all experience that joy and that disappointment, and don't let anyone tell you otherwise.

So it's okay. It's not just fanfiction.

#writing #fic writing #fanfiction #fanfic #writlbr #just had to get this out there #fanfiction has brought me so much joy for ~25 years now #big thank you to everyone that feels sad about their stuff and still writes anyway #i love you and i appreciate you #and i guarantee i'm not the only one

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justaz · 6 months

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country bumpkin merlin not knowing anything about city life and accidentally courting arthur without knowing

merlin, watching gwen give lancelot her favor: why do you do that

gwen, heart eyes at lance and not paying that much attention to the conversation: so he knows i’m rooting for him

merlin, with an Idea: ah.

gwaine, lover of chaos, pisser offer of nobles and royals alike, ultimate wingman: merlin…you have such lonely lips. shall i introduce them to mine?

merlin, unaware of the game gwaine is playing: so you can steal my breath away? i think not, scoundrel

arthur, crushing his goblet in his hand:

merlin: arthur’s been in a bad mood recently :( i should cheer him up

merlin, remembering when arthur was put out when merlin brought morgana flowers and not him: i know just the thing

merlin, bringing a bouquet of carnations, roses, and tulips and setting them on arthur’s table while he’s eating breakfast: good morning, sire

arthur, trained on flower language in hopes that one day when he was to take a queen he could woo her easily, trying not to audibly choke on his sausage as he reads merlin’s declaration of love sitting in front of him:

arthur, who recently found out about merlin’s magic and was trying to find a way to bring it up, catching him in the act and watching merlin panic to explain himself:

merlin, Freaking: and i swear to you arthur, i have only ever used it for you. my magic is yours. my life is yours. i am yours. i would never do anything to harm you. i have protected you for years and will continue to do so at your side if you’ll have me

arthur, already believing them to be courting, desperately trying to figure out if that was a proposal for marriage or not but tired of being confused and deciding fuck it: here.

merlin, taking it: i…uh…huh?

arthur, watching merlin with hawk eyes and trying to figure out what he’s thinking and feeling: it’s my mothers sigil

merlin, confused as FUCK but is focusing on the fact that arthur is handing him something of his mother rather than a death sentence: my…my lord?

arthur, realizing how scared merlin’s must be about him finding out about his magic and trying to comfort him while also proposing, killing two birds with one stone: i will always keep you at my side, merlin, so long as we both shall live. if you’ll allow me.

merlin, almost collapsing with relief and tearing up, smiling at arthur as if he had parted the storm clouds to allow sun to shine down on them in that moment: of course…of course, arthur. always and forever.

merlin, watching the castle staff rush this way and that: wow. this banquet must be incredibly important

sir leon the long suffering, day one ride or die, one of the original merthur shippers: banquet? merlin, this is for your wedding

merlin, overworked and exhausted: my WHAT? to WHO??

leon, regretting everything he’s ever done in his life that led him to this moment: to…arthur?

merlin, over joyed but also absolutely befuddled: i’m getting married to ARTHUR?????

leon: you two have been courting for the past year or so, have you not?

merlin: i’ve been COURTING ARTHUR?????? FOR A YEAR?????????

#merthur #i spent like an hour researching medieval courting rituals to make this #and even then #i did not find much #so if there’s someone out there who is like weirdly knowledgeable about 6th century courting rituals #feel free to add on #bbc merlin #arthur pendragon #merlin emrys #sir gwaine #sir leon #sir lancelot #guinevere #i literally started this post bc i was thinking about the misunderstanding between merlin and gwen and merlin’s giving arthur his favor #and then i kept going #but i didn’t have much else in the ole noggin to write #i’m sorry #please forgive me

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randomnotebookthoughts · 3 months

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I wonder if anyone ever fantasizes about having a life with me.

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elodieunderglass · 4 months

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Horror isekai where Perceiving the Weird Eldritch Thing gets you catapulted into a nightmare labyrinth of puzzle-solving.

I.e Those Who Perceive The Hunt of the Goblin King Must Partake In The Labyrinth and Can Only Be Freed If They Complete It In One Day and One Night. By Fae Law. For Reasons.

But the definition of “perception” clearly needs to be updated because some normal guy simply films the Hunt of the Goblin King Behind Arby’s, and puts it on Facebook -

No, not instagram or TikTok, it’s important that it be Facebook -

Because the rules are pretty clear, “the rules are the rules” as is carved ominously in elvish runes above the grim gate, and the Contract is Sealed. and so therefore the guy and 25 of their most random real-life acquaintances must run the gauntlet together. It’s Some Guy, their immediate neighbors, their first partner’s mom, their friends from hobby Facebook groups (oh this poor guy and their hobbies; the elderly birdwatchers from Facebook and the young up-and-coming drag king community), their random teen kid niece, college friends, a dog who also watched the video, a couple consisting of a woman who is the guy’s Facebook friend and showed her husband the video, and the husband doesn’t even know Some Guy, so he’s in the labyrinth and absolutely furious about being forced to be involved, and they proceed to break up over the course of the puzzle.

It’s important that the narrative keeps trying to be a sexy dark horror isekai! but within this the comedic reality of Catherine, 52, the guy’s horse-riding instructor, being passionately involved in escape-room-style puzzle solving and grappling with minor goblins. They are in fact speedrunning the gauntlet.

The Goblin King finally has to say: all right, actually, I only really set all this up to fuck with one (1) guy at a time, thanks for your willingness to participate, but I think all 25 of you can consider the gauntlet fully run.

And the group would be quite hurt by that. The rules are the rules. We have a contract, actually. Let Catherine cook.

#this feels extremely like… 2015 tumblr to me #but it also feels a sort of comforting honesty in this time #thank you for giving me this safe space #this plot idea just feels like some kind of nostalgia . to me.#writing it out I felt like I knew it was unfashionably written AND YET #I was thinking last night about how Stranger Things works quite #well because it’s set in the 80s… it is load-bearing that it be set in the 80s… it’s plot relevant and worldbuilding #well for some reason this plot has to be set pre-pandemic post-impact-text-memes

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zosanbrainrot · 3 months

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part 2 of Zoro in WCI

01 02 03

I tried to write something to sum up my thoughts on this, but then it got longer and longer and tbh I'm itching to write a fic set in this AU djjdkf I think I could develop on their inner feelings more than in the comic form

Before posting the first part I didn't realize people had such strong opinions on how this would play out lmaooo

imo, of course Zoro wants to fight Sanji, not with actual intent to harm (they threaten each other on the daily, come on), but because that's how they are together, how they communicate. He respects Luffy's decisions and their goal here, which is to learn what's really going on with Sanji, but he's gonna be pissy about it all he wants. They both have so many intense and conflicted feelings about this and neither has any idea how to resolve them. So they fight.

ofc yall are free to headcanon this interaction any other way you want <333

#hope you can hear the moment Sanji's heart shatters #you're walking the painful path you chose and then even this stupid marimo instead of playing your usual game of threats and violence #instead of making this easier for you he pierces right through your heart with the tiniest confession #I never hated you #but even if he didn't use to #he sure as hell despises every inch of you now #he must he has to #but this is what you chose #it is what you deserve #ANGST #PAIN #wci zoro au #obvi if I were to write it wouldnt write first person this just got out of hand #i love angst can you tell #zosan #i love keeping them in the 'what if maybe no he would never' hell #roronoa “i love you but I will take these feelings with me to the grave” zoro #blackleg “I need you to hate me because I simply don't deserve to be loved” sanji #rorona zoro #black leg sanji #sanji #zoro #my art #whole cake arc #whole cake island #one piece #one piece fanart

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girlboyburger · 7 months

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#mspaint mouse doodlie #a mood as ive been coming out of my shell more and talking to people lately #(says something nice) (feels the need to clarify that i'm not flirting even though there's no reason to assume i was in the first place)#(tries to make a post about art being unable to be judged objectively) (writes 6+ paragraphs in my notes before condensing it to post)#this isnt me trying to be self deprecating btw i just know i do this :.] bc if i'm misunderstood i'll die.#oc: cow #fursona #furry #my art

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rileyclaw · 1 year

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is this who you believe you are?

#luz noceda has got me in my FEELINGS since the WAD promo came out. GUYSSSSS #fdhfdhjfdjhfd #sorry my demons. they need to make more shit like this #the owl house #toh spoilers #watching and dreaming #toh #toh season 3 #fanart #my art #luz noceda #emporer belos #the sheer concept of this drives me CRAZZZZY theyre insane for writing this. biting snarling #explodes etc

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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 5 months

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Lap Pillow

[First] Prev <–-> Next

#poorly drawn mdzs #mdzs #wei wuxian #lan wangji #Confessions of a missed opportunity: I almost had LWJ in purple for this comic.#WWX gives him one of his layers to wear and it's never specified what colour it is.#We all love the red inner robe from CQL (And other illustrations) but sit with me for a moment. Think about LWJ in Jiang Purple.#Right now. Close your eyes and give it 5-10 seconds of rotation in your brain.#Welcome back. It's beautiful isn't it. As I write these notes I am upset that I backed out of going through with it.#I think I will simply have to draw it another time. If we get gusu lan white wwx we *need* yunmeng jiang purple lwj!#Anyways; this comic is the pinnacle of teen wangji's bursting-at-the-seams-emotionality that I love him for.#For my sanity I need that teen losing his mind and following bird rules (get fluffy - get blushy - keep beeping)#He is a loser nerd with a begrudging crush on a boy that he doesn't know how to be normal about.#LWJ seems like your typical 'cool guy love interest' until you realize that he's actually kind of soggy and pathetic.#My favourite lan wangji trait is that he's funny as all hell. I feel like wwx a bit because I had a character epiphany when I realized this

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confessedlyfannish · 2 months

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Writing Prompt #12

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He doesn't look away from the man.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You can look left, Mr. Wayne."

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

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

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

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

"Him."

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

"Why me?"

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

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

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

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

Bruce bristles. "I bow to no one."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Ask your question, Mr. Wayne."

"I have more than one."

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

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

There is a pause.

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

"Resolve what?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"They will have already muzzled him."

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

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

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

Clack!

"sluuuuurp!"

"Master Timothy, honestly!"

"Sorry Alfred!"

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

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