“You’re not best friends, you’re family!!”
NO!
SHUT UP, SCROOGE! YOU OVERLYCOMPETITIVE OUTRAGEOUS OSTRACIZED OPULENT OAF!
Dewey and Webby are BEST FRIENDS AND FAMILY!!
They can be both! Because they are!!
FRIENDS ARE NOT LESSER THAN FAMILY
BOTH ARE GOOD TITLES
Now why don’t you take your off-brand Monopoly board game and shove it up your ass so it can join the stick up there!
Bitch not even the Parker Brothers wanted anything to do with you
And they gave a board to Garfield!
That lazy cat has a Monopoly board and you don’t!
Scroogeopoly is probably only sold at one grocery store next to Fish-opoly and Wine-opoly
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himh I'll make a Dark Urge that's so fucking scared
big scary bloodsoaked killer, tearing through armies with her literal bare hands? nah. a quiet, scared girl who doesn't understand why she does what she does, why she can do what she can, but is, at the same time, deeply disgusted by herself because she has just enough self-awareness to know to be repulsed.
maybe it's because I'm a tiny bit obsessed with clinging to the thought that people, at the end of the day, are fundamentally good, no matter what. that there is a fundamental human goodness in all people that makes them worthy of redemption, or at least of the opportunity for atonement.
maybe the way I want to play a story like that is with someone who, stripped from indoctrination and free for the first time to think for herself and embrace and be who she is, finds that in the deepest, most hidden pits of her soul, she is not the strong, kind, resilient person she might want to be. try as the might, she is not someone who can bear the weight of her own past, she's just a... a terrified, broken little girl, cowering in the shadows and unable to look herself in the eye. (which also gives me ideas for her relationship with Orin but that's a little bit beside the point)
cathartic self-insert who. therapy? what is that. is it on Steam or Epic.
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So take me for granted
I know I never really meant that much to you
All our memories will be erased
The only way out is forward
As far away as I can get
Where to now?
What happened to my fucking purpose?
I am just a stone sinking, broken and numb
Where to now?
The way you made me, made me worthless
Truth is, in the end, we all end up alone
Can you feel me calling your name from the balcony seats you left empty?
Can you feel me tearing apart everything we used to be?
Lyrics from: Nothing Shameful by Dance Gavin Dance feat. Andrew Wells
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Webby: {picks her charade slip} Oh this is easy! {starts imitating Scrooge}
Dewey: Sour! Sour grapes! Old fruit!
Lena: [in her shadow form] She’s your Uncle Scrooge…
Dewey: Hat! It was a fruit hat! Bowler full of smoothies!! Nailed it?!
Lena: No…She’s your Uncle Scrooge!
Dewey: Money?!
Lena: You’re getting there…
Dewey: Expensive smoothies!
Lena: Oh for the love of- IT’S NOT FRUIT RELATED!!
Dewey: Smoothies with cash in them!? Swim away from the smoothies!? An old man!
Lena: {gasps in excitement}
Dewey: Pruuuune smoothies!?
Lena: ARRRRGHH!! STOP SAYING SMOOTHIES!!
Dewey: No?
Beakley: Time!
Webby: Augh! It was Scroo-
Lena: SHE WAS SCROOGE MCDUCK!! THAT MAN SHE’S OBSESSED WITH!! YOUR UNCLE!! YOU ARE HER PARTNER IN CRIME!! HOW ARE YOU SO BAD AT THIS!?!
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I am loudly pushing the batdad agenda i am loudly pushing the— DPxDC Prompt
“Woah. You look like shit."
Granted, that’s probably not the first thing Danny should be saying to the guy that just bit the curb, but in his defense; he’s not running on 100% right now either.
The man -- tall, towering, and broader than Danny is tall -- whips around on his heel, black frayed cape flaring out impressively. Danny would've whistled in appreciation, but he takes the time instead to wipe the back of his hand across his mouth, smearing the blood running from his nose across his cheek.
"Sorry." He blinks widely, not even flinching as the man with the horns zeroes in on him. "That was rude of me. I have a really bad brain-to-mouth filter; Sam says its what always gets me into trouble."
And she's not wrong either, per say. His smart mouth is what landed him in this situation -- with blood blossom extract running through his veins and cannibalizing the ectoplasm in his bloodstream. Thanks Vlad.
The man grunts at him; a short, curt "hm" that shouldn't make Danny smile, but he does because he's somewhat delirious and probably concussed. The man keeps some kind of distance, sinking towards the shadows of Gotham's alleyway like he dares to melt right into it.
If it's supposed to scare Danny, it doesn't work. Danny's never been afraid of the dark; he's always been able to hide himself in it. He blinks slowly at the mass of shadows.
"You look hurt." The shadows says, blurring together around the edges. Danny squints, and licks his lips to get the blood dripping down his chin off. Ugh, he hates the taste of blood.
"I am." He says, "My godfather poisoned me. M'dying." The agony of the blood blossom eating him from the inside out looped back around to numbing a while ago, so all he feels is half-awake and dazed.
"Hey," Danny stumbles forward towards the man, a bloodied hand reaching out to him. "You-- you're a hero, right? You're not attacking me; which is more than I can say for most costumed people I've met." Maybe it's a poor bar to judge someone at, but he's already established that Danny's not in his right mind.
The man makes no change in expression, but Danny realizes blearily that it's hard to tell with the shadows on his face. He stays still long enough for Danny to latch onto the cape -- stretchy, but almost soft under his fingers.
He looks up blearily into the whites of the man's eyes. "Can you help me? I don't-- I don't wanna die." Again. He doesn't wanna die again. He blinks slow and lizard-like. "I mean- I'll probably get to see mom and dad again, but I told them I'd at least try and make it to adulthood."
There's a clatter down the street, and Danny's ghost sense chills up his spine and leaves a bitter, ashy taste in his mouth. He immediately knows who it belongs to even before the deceptively gentle; "Daniel?" echoes down the way.
"Daniel? Quit your games, badger, Gotham is dangerous for children."
Danny's mouth pulls back, and blood spills against his tongue. "Please." He rasps, and grabs onto the shadow's cape with both hands. "Please. He's going to kill me. Please--"
"Daniel? Is that you?"
His lips part, dragging in air to plead with the darkness again. He doesn't need to, the whites of his eyes narrow, and the cape whirls around him before Danny can blink. Soon swaddled in shadows, the Night lifts him up, and steals him away.
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