#this idea keeps evolving...

[starry-bi-sky]

im being hit with The Visions again

the Vision this time is a "homeless danny in gotham" au except its pre-robin Batman again because im on a batdad kick. --------------------

Danny finds a car.

Which-- isn't, like, anything super interesting or impressive. It's Gotham, it's a big city. There's cars on every corner, can't throw a stick without hitting one somewhere. And then setting off the alarm.

But-! It's a car, and it's past midnight-- or he thinks it might be past midnight, it's late enough to be. He doesn't have a watch and he left his phone at Vlad's; asshole put a tracker on it after the last time Danny ran off.

It's been over a month since, it's a new record -- last time it took just over two weeks for Vlad to find him and drag him back to the mansion. This time, Danny ran further. Left the state and everything. See how long it takes Vlad to find him now, hah.

People go missing all the time in Gotham.

Anyways-- there's a car, and it's midnight, and it's parked in an alleyway. Danny would've called it invisible with the way he pretty much trips over it, phasing through the wall of the building beside it and not watching where he's going, but it's not. So he doesn't.

Danny runs into the hood and nearly faceplants right into the darn thing with an 'oomph', hands catching himself on the metal as a flash of irritation flashes hot through his gut. It doesn't hurt or anything, but getting the wind knocked out of you sucks always, and he's tired and hungry, and as a result not in the best state of mind.

He's just about to sink his foot into the side of the wheel -- it wouldn't do anything, he's not that big of an asshole, but it's the principle -- when he stops.

Danny pauses.

He takes a step back, holding his hands out 'n' everything, and examines the car. He squints, trying to get his eyes to adjust to the darkness, considering the closest streetlight is twenty feet that way and positioned in a way that none of the light is hitting it.

Danny would not call himself a car guy. He doesn't think he counts, considering his size and lack of everything. But, but, he knows his way around a few cars, and he had an old obsession with older models when he was little that kinda petered out of existence after his accident. Had a bunch of little car models sitting on one of his shelves back in Amity, and Dad offered to get his hands on an old car for the two of them to fix up together so it'd be ready for Danny when he got his license.

...Anyways.

Point is: Danny can appreciate an old car, and this car has an older -- albeit obviously modified, if the matte paneling and plated wheels meant anything -- look to it. That kind of flat top went out of style years ago, and it's got this kinda rectangular look Danny doesn't see often these days on modern cars.

Other than the electrical cars, but he doesn't think those count. That's boxy, not rectangular.

Danny frowns, tilts his hands down, and leans back further as if that will let him get a better look at this thing. "...What model is this?" He mutters, it's hard to tell in this lighting.

Wait, he should see if there's anyone in the car. It's not running or anything, and nobody's come out to yell at him -- or shoot him -- but, still. People are crazy in Gotham, crazier than they've ever been in Amity. The last thing he needs to do is piss off some guy from the mob.

Danny peers into the window and-- there's no window, okay. Well, no window, and no driver. Some idiot left their car unprotected and without windows, in Gotham?

He pulls on the door handle just to be annoying -- it doesn't budge. Okay, maybe not that stupid. Especially since Danny didn't even see it until he was quite literally running into it.

So. Not that stupid.

Danny looks around warily, pulling his hoodie around him tighter, and then starts circling the car slowly. Like a vulture. No license plate; shocker. Hear how shocked he is? Clutching his pearls right now.

"Reinforced bumper. Cool." he says, er- whispers, really, quiet enough that it doesn't even echo. Danny squats in front of the car and runs his hands over the -- what, should he even call this a bumper? It's bigger than his head, and it's covering the grille. He picks at these... things on the side that remind him of leather straps. Probably to keep this bumper up? Like a ratchet strap?

Danny leans back until his butt hits the ground and he can sit back properly, propping himself up on his hands -- maybe not a good idea. There's probably broken glass somewhere here and he doesn't wanna pick shards out of his palms, again. It's like popping the world's most annoying zit depending on if it gets under the skin.

(He could always just phase them out, but the picking gives him something to do. It doesn't hurt that much.)

Eh. It'll be fine.

With one knee propped up, Danny looks the front up and down, and furrows his brows. The style kinda reminds him of a dodger, especially with the placement and style of the headlights. He plants his hands on the concrete -- hissing when he feels something cut into his palms, ow, there's that glass he was talking about -- and leans down to look under the car.

Hm, nothing jutting out that much. Looks pretty normal. Good space between the bottom and the ground.

He gets up and circles the side again, brushing whatever pebbles or glass that could've stuck into his skin off. He's really curious about where the owner got matte plating for it, or if it's just a wrap. The silhouette's definitely sixties or seventies; too angular for the eighties and fifties.

...There's no one here, Danny looks around again just to make sure, cranes his ears to catch anything. Nope, just the typical quiet rumbling of Gotham's underbelly. It kinda reminds him of Amity, or-- no. No, it reminds him of the quiet groan of the Zone.

That's far more comforting, he thinks. Danny's never really liked Amity all that much.

Back to the car: there's no one around, so Danny folds his arms against the side of the door and sticks his head inside the window. No keys in the ignition, should've figured.

Not like Danny was planning on stealing the car anyways -- anyone capable of modifying a car into this kinda beast -- or paying someone to modify -- was not someone he wanted to piss off. Danny's an orphan, not stupid.

Ignore the fact that he's got his head stuck through the window. The interior isn't anything interesting, but the seats are made of leather, which is nice. Must be a pain in the summer or winter, but leather is cool, and gets stains out better than cloth.

No stick shift though, he's a little disappointed.

Danny presses his mouth into a line and then slants it, humming in the back of his throat. Honestly, he's kinda tempted to crawl in and go to sleep. The leather seats look really inviting, and he's been sleeping on the ground or on park benches for weeks, and the car is really well hidden. No need to worry about being kidnapped.

But, it still belongs to someone. And they're probably using it for something shady. They'll come back for it eventually, so he should get this gawking over with anyways.

And, and-- and. He wants to get a look at that fucking engine. 'Cause holy shit!

Danny pulls his head out of the window and half-dances over to the back, his hand curling around one of the bars as a grin spreads across his face. Now, Danny hates Christmas, but this, this is like it came early and good for once.

"You could smuggle moonshine with this thing," Danny says to himself, grinning ear to ear and running his hands over the edge of the metal. The car is too conspicuous for backroads driving, but the engine, wow. What a thing of beauty.

One of Auntie's friends would probably know what engine it is -- or what type of engine it's based off of, it could very well be a bunch of different engines frankenstein'd together. Danny doesn't recognize it.

Which means it could be illegal. Again, what a shocker. In Gotham? He's clutching his pearls.

Fully satisfied with himself, Danny dances around to the front again and holds his hands out. He makes an 'L' with both hands and shuts one eye, getting the car within the frame of his fingers like he's about to take a picture.

"I rate you," Danny makes a camera shutter sound and mimics taking a photo, "one cool fuckin' car."

"Thank you."

Danny doesn't scream. He does not. He's taught himself better since ghosts started popping up in Amity, and honestly he deserves some credit for that considering they only started popping up over half a year ago.

He does, however, gasp. And he gasps hard, the type that has a high chance of giving you the hiccups afterwards; the painful, chest-thumping kind. Danny slams both hands over his mouth and stumbles backwards, eyes wide and his heart kicking into the fifth gear in his ears.

Bleeding out from the shadows is a man entirely drenched in black, Danny can hardly make out his silhouette and barely catches the white glints of his eyes. Fear like a prey animal burns in his lungs, wild and rabid, Danny has half a mind to bolt.

His ghost sense didn't go off, which might just be the most terrifying thing.

The man doesn't move any more than a step, just enough that Danny can barely see him, but he can feel him watching him. Shit. Shit. He should've never stuck around.

His hands are still over his mouth, Danny, shaking, flutters them open, "How-- h-- how--" he wheezes, "how long have you been standing there?"

[wolfram-but-art]

who needs a fishing rod when you have two hands

reblogs > likes :3

twój stary snajper wędkarz

[anghraine]

I got my doctor's appointment and prescriptions (the doctor decided the best solution to my asthma misery was to nuke it from orbit with steroids lmao) and also wrote some more of the femslash K/S AU for WIP Wednesday!

This section is set quite late in the fic, a few months after the five-year mission, and more than usually spoilery (though no great surprises for K/S fans), so the excerpt and more detailed context are below the cut. However, this phase of the story is essentially a follow-up to the cut lines from "The City on the Edge of Forever" about Kirk recuperating on Vulcan.

Basically, after the string of horrors Jess goes through in S3 and after, S'paak invites her to take her mandatory leave on Vulcan and, now on better terms with her parents, asks Sarek and Amanda to host them. She explains her logic: "leave" for a Starfleet officer as extremely competent and dedicated as Captain Kirk is likely to be little more than nominal if she's easily accessible on Earth (especially if she's in San Francisco itself), and thus Earth seems ill-suited to recuperation from the strains of the mission, all the more as Captain Kirk is prone to handling the emotional excesses of those around her. On the other hand, if their superiors have to go through Sarek to trouble Kirk, disruptions seem less probable.

Amanda is like, "oh sweetie we'd love to have you and your best friend with us for—several months, you said? That would be wonderful! It's been so long! And yes, I'm sure you'll both find it so much more restful at home than back on Earth. And your father does owe Captain Kirk his life...what's her favorite food?" and Sarek's like "no intelligent being owes their life to another and Kirk did no more than her duty, but S'paak's rationales are sound, and the captain has a reputation for honor and reason; if her temperament inclines her to find greater peace and sanctuary in Shi'Kahr than San Francisco, logic suggests she will make a suitable guest."

And a couple months into the recuperation on Vulcan with the silver birds etc, this happens:

-

Throughout the nearly forty years of her daughter’s life, Amanda had almost never heard S’paak raise her voice. She had been a quiet baby, and took readily to Vulcan disciplines in early childhood. And neither Amanda nor Sarek had witnessed her first pon farr three years earlier.

So when Amanda passed Sarek’s study, where she knew he and S’paak were meeting with several elders for their own purposes, she started violently enough to just about dislodge her hair pins when she heard S’paak shouting.

“No! I do not accept—I won’t let you take—”

Regaining some semblance of composure, Amanda hesitated outside the door, catching the sounds of what sounded unmistakably like a physical struggle. The others within the study didn’t cry out, didn’t say anything audible enough to reach Amanda’s ears, but she would not expect them to; despite S’paak’s youth and strength, Amanda couldn’t imagine her capable of overpowering four other Vulcans. But she also couldn’t imagine what would have angered S’paak to such a degree that she would lose all command of herself in such company. It must be a misunderstanding, somehow.

Amanda certainly had not been invited to whatever Vulcan conclave was occurring within the study, nor received any explanation of its purpose. In general, she preferred not to disrupt Vulcan matters or to interfere in Sarek’s and S’paak’s relationship, however strong or disastrously estranged it might be at any given time. But after a few seconds’ consideration, she decided that she couldn’t leave S’paak there, alone with Sarek and the elders and openly upset, without knowing what could have possibly caused it. 

She reached a hand towards the door—but before she could push it forwards, Sarek himself opened it from the other side, his figure blocking Amanda’s attempts to see S’paak. He closed the door behind him before she could peer around him. His face showed no more emotion than usual, but Amanda thought she detected lines of physical weariness.

“Sarek, what’s wrong?” she demanded. “Is S’paak—”

“Plak tow,” he said succinctly, glancing down the hall, as if searching for some change to its usual state. Nothing had changed, not outside the study, not even the placement of the ancient stone vases.

Amanda’s eyes widened. “Plak tow? But pon farr is only every seven years, isn’t it? It’s only been three—”

He just looked at her.

“I thought there’d be more time,” Amanda said, flushing. “Time enough to arrange a different betrothal, at the least. She’ll still die without a bond mate?”

Her voice trembled, but she didn’t cry, which she supposed was an achievement of sorts. Forty years on Vulcan at war with every instinct in her red-blooded veins.

“Yes,” he said. “She was already showing traces of the irrationality that mark the early plak tow, and we had hoped that assuring her of an arrangement to save her life would calm her. The opposite occurred. She turned angry and violent.”

“At the idea of being bonded again?” Amanda said, puzzled. “But she has to!”

“Indeed,” he said, his voice even more neutral than usual. He glanced around again. “Where is Captain Kirk?”

“What?” She could hear S’paak’s voice rise sharply again, though not the words. “What does that—is S’paak safe?”

Sarek raised an eyebrow, looking particularly intractable. He’d always had a remarkable ability to convey an impression of fraying patience without enduring the shame of actually losing his composure. Amanda sighed and relented.

“I’d imagine Jessica is in her room,” she said. “We talked a few hours ago. She’d had a bad migraine and I gave her some human medication for it so she could try to get some sleep. Should I keep her away when she wakes up? She might make the situation more difficult—she cares for S’paak, of course, but…”

Sarek, without saying anything or moving more than a few facial muscles, seemed satisfied.

“No,” he said. “Amanda, go wake her now and bring her here to us. I must remain with Elder Stavak to ensure appropriate arrangements are made.”

Amanda blinked.

“Kirk is the person most familiar with S’paak, and thus more likely to successfully communicate with her in her current state,” he added, which was more explanation than she had expected, if still rather puzzling. After an almost absent-minded ozh’esta, he turned back to the study, then glanced over his shoulder. “Hurry, but be discreet. S’paak may not be capable of shame in this moment, but she will register it later.”

[too0bsessedformyowngood]

Sorta a continuation of this post.

I’ve been thinking more about reverse robins AU with Duke as the Dick/Nightwing parallel, and I have some ideas.

So like, Duke came first. He was the light to Batman’s darkness. I don’t know if he would start off with Signal or another mantle and become Signal later on, but he definitely had the bright colors from the start. Batman might be the Dark Knight but Duke was Gotham’s (K)night Light. Batman fought what hid in the shadows but Signal chased the shadows away, provided a guiding light home. He was the Sunshine when the never ending grey clouds got too thick. He was Gothams hope and inspiration for a brighter future.

But don’t forget he was also a menace. I don’t think it would go down exactly like it did in the comics, it was the early years for Batman-and for the villains as well. After Duke’s parents were gone (maybe by Joker still turning them mad with Joker gas in Joker earliest year, maybe year one for him or something else) he started planning. He started working harder in school, focusing on the sciences to one day make a cure but also would go out looking for his parents, like in canon. He would stumble into things way bigger, overhearing plots from villains and mafias and decided to become an inconvenience for them. Letting the airs out of tires when no one was watching, a fire alarm pulled right before an attack, door stoppers on the outside of each door to a warehouse trapping the villains who where planning inside. A sudden strong of bad luck befalling the main terrors of Gotham. It didn’t go unnoticed, especially by Batman. Duke kept his streak of being unseen until one night he crossed paths with the Bat.

Bruce for his part would have know about the little boy who lost his parents in the attack, and it would have also brought up some memories for him as well. He would have kept a small track of him, but noticed he was in foster care so didn’t do much until one day he came across the reason behind all the karma the villain have be having. Looking into the boys eyes and seeing the same fire that he had, blazing more fierce as Duke explains how he will find his parents and save them, and if he could prevent more bad things along the way he will. Something pinging in Bruce’s soul, this kid lost his parents like he did but not fully, and he still had hope among the need for justice, something that had faded so long ago for himself. He took Duke back that day, promising that he will find Duke’s parents, and kept a closer eye on him after the fact.

Duke noticed that after that day it became like clockwork, he would sneak out, search Gotham, cause a little chaos, get caught by the Bat and brought back to his current foster home. Bruce did some digging, looked for Dukes parents but also found out that Leslie Thompkins was the person in charge of Duke’s case. After a few weeks of the new schedule he met up with Dr. Thompkins. They talked about how Duke has been bounced around from home to home and sneaking out to find his parents almost every night. After a long conversation, and not as much convincing as one would expect, Duke found himself being driven to his next foster home, Wayne Manor.

Okay I’m going to leave this here for now. I ended up writing so much more than I though I would lmao. I have more ideas and will probably continue this soon.

[kalosian-woods]

Clemont is just really funny in general i think. he's just like that, realistically theres so much to unpack about him;

he made an entire invention where he spoke to the mayor and was spread out across the town of the uni he was in which he got in at the age of maybe like 8.

he's a gym leader. he lost his gym to his invention,

there was the slightest chance he could've been mind controlled.

his bag is a bag of holding

he can't run

his entire mental state is the way it is because of a single mistake that wasn't even his fault

There's so much to unpack about him and the creators were like; "yeah anyways!"

okay but seriously, i think we as a fandom neglect the fact that if it wasn't for Clemont's anxious(???) paranoid(???) quick thinking(???) overly prepared(???) he probably he would've gotten mind controlled. like what was up with that.

-⚡(you can call me clem anon! its also just really funny and the fact that i've so far only exclusively talked about him makes it even funnier. electric anon is okay too !)

Clemont is his own bag of holding lol, there really is SO MUCH with him and I'm shaking you on the shoulders rn clem nonnie. Please. How is it possible that there is so much to him as it is. I need to study him under a microscope.

With the first point, that always made me laugh in a way lol. Him at the age of possibly eight created a power source slash Electric Pokemon recharger for a whole town/city. The mayor has noticed his efforts. This is before he is a Gym Leader, and this is the place where he made the promise to Shinx (a promise that he broke, not by any fault of his own, but by the very thing that brought them together in the first place).

The way he actually just straight up lived in Prism Tower, or at least that's how it felt, along with Bonnie. Their father is in the same city with a house but they won't bother with that and he doesn't bother them until they are MIA for at the very least a few weeks if not months. His reasoning for being a Gym Leader is to wield Electric Types from every region and become an Electric-Type Trainer that the world has never seen. The fact that he can be this ambitious with battling gets me (and also his learning from school carrying over c':)

His bag is also a mechanical marvel (not Volcanion, sorry). His Aipom Arm has only malfunctioned once (1 time), and he's easily able to lift Bonnie into the air with it. Also we never see this beyond the first ep but it has an inflatable airbag??? That is actually safe and comfortable to land on even with the everything in his bag as it is.

Even after the whole series and after everything they've ever went through, he still cannot run. Only one time he has ever sprinted ahead (in this realm/dimension) and that was to get to a festival about Zapdos of all Pokemon (and maybe that inventing fair as well??). No one comments on it beyond that one moment. He's also tried to make shoes to help him go up hills quicker but he never tried that one again lol (he forgot he even had it until Serena mentions the monorail, in which also, wow. this gang i swear).

That's actually one of the saddest parts (and something I can totally relate with). The way that we see him so happy and open with Shinx beforehand, ready to learn and be hands on and playing outside even with all the work that he had. And then we hear about how he lost his Gym, how his Pokemon disregard his words and his invention doesn't see him as worthy or strong enough, and it really is him just living out a nightmare of his own making in a way. His fear from back then keeps haunting him with the mistakes that he makes now, and even after meeting with Luxio again you can see the way he just... accepts that he's no longer wanted or forgiven. He's fine with it. He rather everyone have a better life than he does. Just,, he needs a hug. Lots of them.

HELP PLS you've said exactly what I've been thinking off this whole time!! Geez, I thought I was alone in thinking that we brush off whatever happened to Clemont in 'The Needs of Many!' like I get that we lose Greninja, but hello? He got straight-up kidnapped right in front of our eyes! He was going to be made into a superhuman (which has some very very worrying connotations beyond what is already happening). He too was blasted by the Mega Evo Energy, and even if he did resist the mind control, there's got to be other effects as well. If his friends weren't OP and reckless as they were he would've actually been carted away to who knows where and it would've been a matter of time until his preventive measures were found out. And the way he already had a counter against it, against the beam specifically (and for it to be able to work without any issues) is also so sad and worrying in a way?? It's definitely paranoia to me, it was very specific (more than usual, anyways), small enough to hide and easy enough for him to grab. Poor boy :(( I need to just sit down and think every time I remember this is an ep that exists because they just went ham with it, didn't they??

[f1-disaster-bi]

If me and @f1-birb were in the same room right now, I imagine this is how we would be 😂😭

[doruumon]

When I tell people the war in the Unicron Trilogy was actually over 10 million years long and it’s basically everybody’s fault that it kept going.

[slimynematode]

THE ELECTRONIC YET PALEOLITHIC GARDEN OF EDEN BEARING FRUIT UNTOUCHED BY OVERGROWN MEGAFAUNA OF FUTURES PAST

[sincerely-sofie]

I’m the anon that sent in all the Ruby stuff! It makes me so happy that you love her so much. I didn’t expect her to be such a beloved character to you and I was kind of nervous that you would have hated her tbh. ^^;

Something Ruby related �� I had a fic about Twig and co. confronting the siblings before I ultimately scrapped it because I could not write villainous characters without making them feel cliché. I do remember this one line said by Ruby’s sister when she lashes out towards Twig:

“You wouldn’t get it. You have a cushy life style and you baby your daughter instead of actually raising her. We’re doing that ungrateful, spoiled brat a favor — we’re teaching her how to survive. You wouldn’t know the meaning of that with that silver spoon in your mouth.”

I don’t blame you for struggling with not making the siblings feel cliché— writing villainous characters gets 900x more difficult the second you don’t want to make them sympathetic. Ark was fairly simple for me to write, even in scrapped scenes where he was all-in with his villainous role during the events of the post-game. Twig’s aunt, meanwhile, gave me a heck of a hard time while I was developing her backstory.

[yozi-port]

[fuck-kirk]

So I’m thinking of starting to write the book that’s been living inside my head since I was 14, and am really nailing down names for characters. I start looking up name meanings for each character and each one just fits each character so perfectly it feels so perfect

[sharpestwives]

up thinking about vampire frerard

[werewolfdog]

I just know PKMN ! Welt would gift a Pokémon to his crewmates, aka his Found Family

[mapicccc]

I think as quixy evolves more, it's getting new abilities. it still doesn't talk, because I don't have a voice that would fit it, but now it can write to mapicc, like passing notes and sharing secrets. it also has been walking on two legs more recently, not all the time, it still prefers all fours, but when it needs to carry something or is working on a project it's a lot more stable than before

[leori-the-unlearned]

the fight between ‘wanting to look at cool things’ and ‘dont want to see cool things TOO MUCH like my own ideas in case i accidentally absorb and steal them and forget/skip over my own ideas’

[paunchsalazar]

this is my outfit instagram lol