badghostwriter

[badghostwriter]

okay no but. to elaborate on the previous post wrt "the 'good soldier' plaque doesn't actually exist -- it's an extradiegetic device that reflects what tim is thinking about when he looks at the memorial":

a) pretty much every analysis of the memorial case i've seen agrees on one thing: it's not, in its initial appearances, put there for bruce to brood over. it's for tim. tim stands in front of it, talks to it, is shadowed by it. it's a reminder of why he's here, what he could become, what he has to live up to and to avoid.

so in a way this is more in keeping with the writers' intentions -- fandom (and later writers) have spent decades trying to resolve the contradiction of "a good soldier" with the actual text of bruce and jason's relationship, but it wasn't ever meant to convey what bruce thought of jason.

b) and -- this is more subjective, but -- i think it might actually be more interesting when viewed as a reflection of what tim thinks of jason. because tim also seems to think that jason was -- maybe a little bit impetuous. a little bit reckless. like his fate is something tim can avoid by being Careful Enough.

this was of course part of a larger push to paint jason as The Bad Robin Whose Death Was His Own Fault. tim says stuff like "i'm not going to end up like jason" because that's what dc wanted you to think. we're meant to agree with and believe tim. and you can discount this as part of tim's characterization on that basis -- he's definitely not the only one who says it, either -- but it's undeniably part of the text, so. if we wanted, instead, to complicate the attitude a little.

does tim think jason died of being "a good soldier"?

[badghostwriter]

engaging in a high risk behavior (lying back down after my alarm already went off)

[badghostwriter]

Avatar: The Last Airbender Fand-Home Prints by @Kyri45

These can be found in 3 versions both as prints and T-Shirt on my RedBubble!

[badghostwriter]

This doesn't work This does

Maomao's reactions tend to be clearly visible through her eyes. It seems like every time she thinks that Jinshi is being childish, she gives an admiring look.

She is unimpressed whenever he's "acting" seductive, but when he's being spontaneous and real with her, that piques her interest and she gets softer. It's almost like low-key she finds that annoyingly cute.

[badghostwriter]

people in books and tv shows are always getting so upset they throw an untouched meal in the trash. that would never be me. i'd receive the worst news of my life and still be like Let me put this in the fridge.

[badghostwriter]

setting up a tiny detail in one chapter to pay it off in the next few chapters feels sooo devious like oooh i can't wait to write the small little reference here that 70% of readers will miss but 30% of readers will cheer for

[badghostwriter]

Peter in Gotham: Nice Try, Though.

Listen, Peter knows he's being kind of an asshole. Maybe blame the Trauma or the fighting literal middle aged homicidal maniacs at 15 years old or, most likely in this specific case, the fact that he somehow got transported to a city that smells worse than the Hulk's armpit on a bad day. But you cannot blame a guy for seeking out the one thing that brings a modicum of joy to his life in the middle of what are honestly some of the worst few months he's ever had. So when Signal, for the second time this patrol, tries to inch his way onto the rooftop about five feet behind Peter, well... Peter does what brings him joy.

"Hood tried that same tactic last week. Didn't work then either." Peter would never admit out loud that he's smirking under his mask. Behind him, he hears Signal groan then shuffle forward to sit on the rooftop beside him, all attempts at stealth out the window.

"How do you do that!? Seriously!? It was funny the first few times you did it to B and Robin, but Every. Single. Time? From all of us?" Peter lets out a brief chuckle. "Maybe you guys should train harder."

An affronted gasp is ripped out of the other hero. "Trai- Train harder?! How dare you? Our training was the actual best, some of us were even trained by literal assassins. It's not our fault you seem to have some... some sixth sense for when we're nearby!" Peter let out a full laugh at that.

When he'd landed in Gotham initially, he'd been shocked and confused. It didn't take long for Karen to connect him to the internet and for him to realize he was not in Kansas anymore. Kansas being New York, or... Oscorp? Depends on how you want to look at it. New York if the city, the Oscorp 16th floor laboratories if you want to get the picture. You know what, this is too much info, you get the picture.

When he realized Gotham had heroes already, he looked into the politics of it all. He knew powered people were not always welcome (he'd dealt with enough rants from Wade about the X-Men mutant rights campaign to get a clue), so he dug deeper into this universe/dimension/whatever you want to call this Not New York and Not Oscorp place. What he found was contradictory and borderline laughable. The Batman, cryptid protector of Gotham, had seemingly instigated a No-Meta's rule for the city, but one of his affiliated heroes within Gotham was a person with powers. Also, he regularly teamed up with powered individuals when working alongside the Justice League, which he'd co-founded. So, Peter felt pretty confident that if he let himself get introduced to the Bats early on he would be safe here. And he was right. He hopped back into the friendly-neighborhood habits in the rougher parts of town (seriously, who has a whole section of a city called "Crime Alley"), and within a few days he found himself in the presence of not one, not two, but three Bats, including the big Bat himself. He had been debating pretty regularly with himself about how much to reveal and. the mechanics of dimension travel and not wanting to break or alter any timelines, blah, blah, blah. But when it came down to it, there had been no alerts or ringing from his Spidey-Sense other than a buzz to let him know they were closeby. As soon as he turned around to greet them, the buzz died down entirely.

So he told them everything except his name. He was honest. He even told the Bat that they were welcome to take a blood sample to see he wasn't lying about not having a Meta gene and that he was just a regular old lab experiment gone wrong. He was entirely unsurprised when they did take one, but he was sort of surprised that when they asked for his name and he told them that he wouldn't give them one, they only asked "why?" instead of immediately attacking him. And Peter was honest again. He was a functional adult, he had the means to create himself a fake ID and documents, and he wanted to establish himself in Gotham for whatever amount of time he was stuck there. Where he came from, identities were earned and he had been burned before because of it. He was in a new place with new dangers and the last thing he needed while trying to get his feet under him were outside forces (AKA Bats) meddling in his personal life and making it harder for him, even if unintentional. They'd get his name in time, but they'd have to earn his trust, just like he would be working to earn theirs.

The Bats hadn't loved that answer (shockingly), but they only asked for his name a few more times before dropping it entirely when he refused to budge. The constant questions had quickly moved to his powers after that though. Peter hadn't minded sharing, as his potential teammates would be better equipped to work with him in the field if they knew what he was capable of. He did however, by genuine accident, leave out his Spidey-Sense when listing them. And rather than add it on later, he quickly realized that it was a small source of entertainment that didn't cause any true harm.

And within about a week after those power-related questions started, a bet was made between the Bats. In all the times they had met with Peter, not a single one could sneak up on him. Not Dick, not Jason, not even Damien or Cass! So, as siblings do, they made a bet. Whoever could sneak up on Peter and tap him on the shoulder without being spotted or acknowledged first would get a whole batch of Alfred's cookies to themselves. Peter knew the prize, and he sure as hell wasn't going to make it easy on them.

"Yeah, it's a sixth sense alright." He chuckles. "I told you guys I had heightened senses. I can hear you coming from several blocks away, even further if I'm actually listening out for you. You guys will just have to be stealthier." Peter shrugged jovially.

Signal grumbled to himself over that. "Stealthier, he says. Well, how do you suggest we do that?" Signal leans forward on the edge of the roof to try and catch Peter's line of sight. "Well, you can start by telling Red Robin that changing his patrol times just to pair up with you in an attempt to use you to distract me would work a lot better if I couldn't hear his cape scraping against the railings on the fire escape steps just now." Signal reeled back in shock as a plethora of curses rang out from the fire escape behind their backs, prompting Peter to chuckle again. "Nice try, though."

[badghostwriter]

Danny was asked where his in memorium is, after saving another civilian on a JL mision.

Danny in all his glory just "hu?"

"You know, so i can put a thank you for saving me ofrend"

"Oh.. i i dont have one- not even in my secret identidy i had a grave... but thank you so much for thinking of that" the sinsere and melancholical smile that the ghost hero give to the civilian was so full of emotion that even the people acros the screen could feel it.

Not knowing that he was recorded, Phantom guve a false saluted and continued with his work.

The video soon become viral, and with that, little by little a lot of in memoriums and shirenes started poping up all around the globe.

[badghostwriter]

DP x DC: Corner of Shadows

Alfred Pennyworth has been a lot of things in his lifetime: an intelligence agent, a friend, a butler, a pseudo-father, a pseudo-grandfather, a medic, and more. But the one thing that he rarely gets a chance to be is, well... wrong.

He'd noticed things in Gotham seemed quiet lately, though he was superstitious enough not to voice that thought aloud. A quiet Gotham was a plotting Gotham, and he was wary and alert for whatever she was brewing. It was odd though, since Batman and his affiliates had managed to arrest and incarcerate the most destructive of the normal rouges in Arkham. Alfred knew that wasn't a long-term solution, but it would hold them for at least a few months before they inevitably were broken out. Alfred's sense of dread peaked on a Wednesday afternoon in late April. He had been doing his day's tasks, notably at the exact moment he was dusting in Bruce's study, when he felt a chill. Now, Alfred had been the caretaker of Wayne Manor long enough to know it's secrets: what windows were sealed shut and which could sneak open, what rooms and hallways created drafts and where the origins were, and the most likely hiding places for stashes of coffee, weapons, or even people. Bruce's study had never once incited a chill.

Alfred, though, was a professional. So, he didn't even pause in his task. He simply angled himself to reach the next set of shelves and snuck a glance around the room under the guise of reviewing his work.

He noticed it in the far corner of the room.

In his brief glance, the corner appeared darker than normal, as though the shadows had warped themselves out of their normal crevices to conceal something or someone. He considered, for a moment, hitting the panic button tucked away on the shelf behind him. However, he was not one to back down from a skirmish, nor was he incapable of handling one measly threat on his own. No need to concern the family until he knew whatever shadow creature or demon they were dealing with.

It wouldn't be the first time Alfred has faced down a demon. It also wouldn't be the first time he'd come out victorious. "I'd rather hope you were not planning to remain hidden in that corner. If so, I'm terribly sorry to disappoint you." Alfred said, keeping his back to the corner and continuing with his dusting with a purposeful air of nonchalance and passivity.

Even without a straight view of the shadowed corner, Alfred could feel the tension grip the air. "If you are here to steal from Master Bruce or one of his children, I'd kindly suggest that you exit through whatever means you entered. If you intend to harm them, I'd suggest you reconsider unless you plan to challenge me. Contrary to my family's beliefs, blood does not magically disappear out of the carpet, and as I do not know what you are, I'd hate to have to take the time to figure out how to best clean up yours." It was with this thinly veiled threat that Alfred chose to turn around and stare down the corner of the room, hopefully engaging in direct eye contact with whatever creature lurked there, or at least close proximity to it. It was as though the shadows were fighting with themselves. Almost imperceptible to the naked eye, they seemed to elongate and shrink back in rapid succession. It almost appeared that they seemed to be anxious. Then, a voice. It was akin to nails scraping down a chalkboard or the explosion of static through a radio on full volume in close quarters. It was a violent and powerful voice that hinted at fear and destruction. "What makes you so sure you would win?" The shadows seemed to tremble. Alfred smirked.

"I've dealt with many things in my life. Enough to know that demons, wraiths, creatures of the night, and even the most violent humans all have one thing in common: they can still cease." The shadows seemed to tilt. Alfred paused for a second, it almost looked like when a child or dog would tilt it's head in confusion or thought. "Cease." The broken and grating tone suggested that the reply was not a question, more like a thought for itself.

"Life does not always end in death, and death does not always extinguish existence. However, even one that is dead can still cease to exist if given the right... persuasions." Alfred lightly grinned. He knew to an outsider that it would seem vaguely threatening, even if the grin was only created out of his own amusement seeping through. The room was still. The shadows had stopped their rhythmic twisting, finally stationary. However, they were still stretched and warped beyond their usual means. The being was still present, even if it had yet to reveal itself.

It seemed, to Alfred, the creature was thinking, and he, ever the polite host, chose to let it.

After a long, quiet moment, the being spoke again. Only this time, the broken static and sharp noises ceased. Instead, the voice of a teenager, maybe even a child spoke. "What if... What would you say to a being whose existence was a constant fluxuation of life and death? Constantly living and dying and living and dying again and again, a never-ending cycle. How would you handle a being like that?" Alfred paused for a moment. He didn't let his own confusion at the entity show on his face as he realized his assumptions about this being a demon or shadowed creature here to cause harm were wrong. He had a job to do, after all. And even if this was not one of the children he was tasked with helping raise, he would not harm or threaten a child. "I'd invite the being for a cup of tea." "You'd..." There was a long pause, even longer than the standoff from earlier. It seemed Alfred's answer had truly shocked the shadows. "Why?" "Life can be incredibly isolating. Death even more so. I'd dare say, young sir, that if one was constantly walking the veil between both, regardless of if they teeter more towards one way or the other, that the being could, simply put, use an ally." The tension that had begun to stifle the room dissipated almsot immediately. As the shadows started to expand out from the corner, slowly inching their way towards where Alfred stood as though expecting him to move, to strike, Alfred stayed perfectly still and poised. There was no flinching or startling to be perceived. The shadow stretched along the floor until it stopped about half a food from the tip of his left shoe. The shadows slowly, slowly, slowly crept the rest of the way until it barely brushed the top of the well-worn leather shoes. When he didn't react, didn't move away or lash out, then the shadows quickly receded back from whence they came. Then, in the blink of an eye, in the corner sat a boy.

As far as Alfred could see, he was thin, dirty, and the staining on his clothing suggested that he was injured or had been so recently. His pitch black hair was matted and greasy, the bags under his eyes and sunken in face suggested he had been alone, likely hiding, for much too long. His gaze, however, was strong. The direct stare he landed on Alfred suggested that he was being cautious and his tensed posture indicated he would bolt if Alfred handled this incorrectly. So, Alfred leveled his own gaze back, allowing for warmth and care to flood back into his features, casting out the cold and ironed exterior he had thrown on in the face of a potential threat. "So, young sir, would you prefer a black or green tea?"

[badghostwriter]

I see a lot of prompts and fics that operate on the premise of Danny being the world's first hero so everyone in the Justice League looks up to him. But what if he wasn't? What if, instead, he was the first villain? Not literally, he's not a bad person, he genuinely tried and did help people, he did protect Amity Park and the world. But what if the GIW won? What if his parents react poorly to a reveal? What if, instead of being hailed as the world's first hero, he's seen as the world's first villain, one who the GIW and Dr's Fenton worked together to trap in their version of a sarcophogus of forever sleep? One who they claimed was brutal and cruel and no one should ever let out because he has the power to destroy the world? What if the JL and JLD get word that someone (maybe his friends, maybe his sister, maybe a cult well meaning or otherwise) is trying to release the world's first villain and they're trying to stop them from doing it because obviously it's the world's first and possibly worst villain, he can't be set free. And what if it WASN'T like the sarcophagus of forever sleep? What if he was awake the whole time?

[badghostwriter]

DP x DC Prompt #1

When Danny accidentally turns on the portal, what if it did more than just turn him into a halfa? What if, instead, it actually split his soul, with the portal slinging one half of his soul through the realms and into an alternate dimension.

Now, it would likely be incredibly noticeable if someone just woke up one day missing half a soul, so I raise the idea of - sleeping shark Danny. Sharks and some other marine life will utilize unihemispheric slow-wave sleep, where one half of their brain rests while the other remains active, allowing them to stay alert for potential threats.

What if Danny’s soul splitting allows him to deactivate the half of his soul in the alternate dimension when he’s awake in Amity Park, but it awakens and he lives through that half while he’s sleeping in Amity?

So he goes through his normal day in Amity Park and goes to bed, only for the other half of his soul to wake up (in Gotham, a Lazarus pit, etc) as soon as he falls asleep. And it just rotates back and forth, but he remains rested in both worlds because his other half of his soul is actually resting while he is alert in the present half.

Additional feels if he thinks the portal accident just so happened to give him much more lucid dreams than before and it takes him a long time, or even some form of physical injury occurring to his other half, for him to realize he’s actually somehow existing in both places at once

Feel free to add on here, just tag me if you do please :)

[badghostwriter]

Danny was asked where his in memorium is, after saving another civilian on a JL mision.

Danny in all his glory just "hu?"

"You know, so i can put a thank you for saving me ofrend"

"Oh.. i i dont have one- not even in my secret identidy i had a grave... but thank you so much for thinking of that" the sinsere and melancholical smile that the ghost hero give to the civilian was so full of emotion that even the people acros the screen could feel it.

Not knowing that he was recorded, Phantom guve a false saluted and continued with his work.

The video soon become viral, and with that, little by little a lot of in memoriums and shirenes started poping up all around the globe.

[badghostwriter]

Jinshi’s favorite pillow: Maomao

[badghostwriter]

And if I tell you this little moment will live in my mind forever, then what.

[badghostwriter]

Maomao: Wow

Maomao: Master Jinshi is so beautiful

Maomao: He is so beautiful to each of the five senses, it's truly incredible

Maomao:

Jinshi: He-

Maomao: disgusting

[badghostwriter]

apothehcary

[badghostwriter]

manga jinshi is sooo fine i had to draw him