Ughhh There’s This ONE Post On Tumblr I’m Looking For:

o/ <- person waving

o7 <- person saluting

ol <- person raising hand

o1 <- person scratching head

\o> <- person stretching

ML Spite: Yeeting Off the High Road and Dragging You All Down With Me

Imagine, if you would, a slightly different scenario in our usual “High Road” plot. Instead of turning Lila’s lies against Lila, Marinette uses Lila’s lies against the classmates themselves.

Realistically speaking, in these fics, the class has already made it a matter of sides and have already made it clear just whom they’re going to side with. The fact that Lila has no proof of anything whereas Marinette at least has two potential witnesses to the truth (Adrien and Ladybug) doesn’t seem to matter. That means the classmates are actively choosing to trust the new girl over their “Everyday Ladybug”. And if they are putting their trust in someone they don’t know that well vs someone they do, whom they KNOW is a good person whom has helped them before, that means it’s because they WANT to trust Lila more. It seems that choice is primarily based on this belief regarding what Lila can do for them rather than a matter of whom is actually trustworthy.

Under these circumstances, trying to reveal Lila will only backfire. Lila can just pull out the crocodile tears and claim she “only wanted to make friends”, and you know the class will eat it up because a positive impression of someone can’t be broken that easily when people REALLY want to believe the best of the person involved.

To beat Lila, Marinette realizes she can’t just disprove Lila’s claims or even let Lila accidentally out herself. That won’t be enough to get the class our from under her thrall.

No. What she has to do is make Lila’s lies unappealing.

Cue Pettynette’s version of the “High Road”.

“But wait!” I can hear you say. “Hasn’t that been done?”

Not like this.

In the other versions, Marinette, even when being petty, kept her focus on Lila and twisting her lies against her.

In this case, Marinette is twisting Lila’s lies against everyone else.

Keep reading

Rereading Harry Potter trying to figure out what makes him special. Is he charismatic? Kind? Perceptive? Is he a talented leader, is he smarter than he looks, is he a gifted ——? Nothing’s catching so far, which is a problem if I’m gonna write anything respecting him, his attitude, and his status as the Chosen One.

Any input, guys?

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!"

misunderstandings incoming…

fanart for Existential Crisis Mode, an absolutely amazing fic written by @luciaintheskyainthi seriously this fic has me waiting on hands and knees for every update it’s so good

I have a little idea. I know some, if not all, will hate me for this idea.

So the Big Three of the League, namely Batman, Wonder Woman, and Superman, don't like Captain Marvel. They don't hate him, but they don't particularly like him either.

He is too bright and friendly for Batman. You can see right away that he was brought up well. Marvel has never experienced the darkness of the world, because only people like him always believe in everything good and teach it to others. He has never experienced grief from loss or loneliness. He is a happy man from a happy family. And the fact that Batman cannot find out who Marvel is adds fuel to the fire.

Diana is a little jealous that Marvel is patronized by Zeus, her father. At the same time, Marvel behaves in a mature way that irritates her. After all, what warrior, endowed with the power of the Gods, would behave like a child? She believes that he does not deserve these powers. And she does not believe it when she hears from Marvel that he was endowed with these powers for his pure heart. No one has a pure heart. This is the truth of the world.

Superman is jealous that Marvel was accepted into Fawcett right away when he first appeared. And Clark had to work hard to stop being afraid and start being loved. Moreover, Clark is the last representative of his world, unlike Marvel, which is exactly why it is impossible to understand the weight of the whole world on his shoulders from such knowledge. Even the villains respect Marvel, unlike Superman's villains. And there is not much negative press about Marvel and his heroism, while Superman receives slander almost every day and not only.

So yeah, the Big Three don't like him a bit. The others can't figure out (especially Barry and Hal) what's wrong with Fawcett's hero that the three of them frown so much when it comes to Captain Marvel.

Meanwhile, Billy is hiding from the rain in the old subway, hugging his stuffed tiger, hoping that he can earn himself at least a dollar.

NEW FIC DROPPED!

SUMMARY: A girl from our world transmigrates into Miraculous Ladybug, and finds herself reborn as Celeste Grahms—someone who never existed in the show. Finding herself heiress to a global empire, and with a completley different script, Celeste finds that she isn't interested in playing by the canon rules. Why settle for the sidelines when she can find herself the main chacracter?

The original plot? Doesn’t matter. She didn’t ask for this, so why follow the script everyone else is bound to? With a darker Paris, a more ruthless Hawkmoth and her least favourite character standing in her way, she can be sure of only one thing in this new life of hers—Celeste Grahms refuses to be anyone’s pawn, when she can become the queen.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/64262899/chapters/164948017

At some point, Damian fucks up. It’s while he’s still new to Gotham and is trying to win the approval of his father and adopted siblings, but ten years of training is not easy to deprogrammed if it’s all you know and Bruce takes it out in Damian and Dick isn’t around and Damian “I act like I’m older but I’m still just a 10 year old with repressed emotions” Al Gul leaves. Runs away if you will. He leaves Gotham because he’ll be found in Gotham and he would like to not be found thank you very much.

He end up in central city (which at some point was claimed to be in Illinois) where he’s happened upon by one Danny Fenton who now lives in the city and works R&D at Star Labs creating a sustainable energy source by filtering ectoplasm that naturally exists in this plane of existence.

Needless to say he’s a well established individual, incredibly smart, and can easily take in a child when he happens across Damian in a park.

Danny has one conversation with this emotionally repressed child who very clearly ran away from home and is also hiding weapons on his person and is like

“Guess your mine now.”

Damian does not cave at first. He accepts Danny’s offer of a place to stay for the night and then once they arrive at Danny’s apartment, Cujo arrives and Damian is sold. Ghosts exist, they’re not talked about a lot outside of certain circles, but it’s not a secret. And after saving enough of the right people as a ghost, the anti ecto acts were rescinded so Danny is home free and is taking after his parents in the study of ecto-everything. He’s also the king and can do what he wants with the ectoplasm he collects. So a ghost dog being in his apartment isn’t weird, but Danny’s grateful Cujo can come and go freely without threat now.

Anyway I saw a tag somewhere about how “sometimes a family is an ex-assassin, a random guy, and their ghost dog.” So that’s what this is.

Danny doesn’t ask questions. Damian’s old family hurt him? Didn’t trust him? Neglects him unintentionally? That’s not conductive to a happy healthy childhood. Do you want to be my family? I have a cousin around you age, you two would probably get along great whenever she visit. Also you seem to have a lot of pent up energy. I know a place we can go and brawl it out of your system. No you won’t hurt me if you don’t hold back, yes I promise I won’t get mad at you for fighting.

For ghosts, fighting is like a social activity. Danny takes Damian into the ghost zone for these brawls, probably uses one of skulkers islands so Damian can have the full benefits of a diverse terrain because this little gremlin is trained and Danny will ask someday, but not today.

I’m sure at other points other ghosts show up as well and are like, we’re play fighting with Phantom’s kid? Hell yeah! Danny probably finds some dead LOA assassins at some point who inform him about the kid he’s adopted and that the LOA will probably come after him again at some point. And Danny just laughs because Damian’s his now. Danny would like to see anyone try to take his kid and live to tell the tale.

The bright side of that interaction is that Damian gets introduced to an entire zone in the realm that’s made up of denizens he can learn his heritage and culture from. He ends up with a ghost sword and spars somewhat regularly with old LOA members who have chilled out in the afterlife.

Obviously they don’t live in the zone. Danny has a job, and Damian, as soon as Tucker creates the most airtight new identity in the history of man kind and hides Damian behind a ghost firewall, has school. He is now Damian Al Mir Fenton (the ghosts started calling him Almir as a nickname because he is the son of the ghost king and a prince so Damian decided to adopt it as his middle name). They get away with this for a while because Damian spend enough time around Danny and in the zone that he’s liminal adjacent and that causes camera’s to not quite capture his likeness correctly, so when the bat clan finally starts looking for him he doesn’t show up on face recognition scans they use.

It’s like, a year or two before they eventually get a lead. One of Damian’s clones arrive and either fools then bats into believing he’s Damian, or gets captured and Batman’s giving a briefing in the watchtower about the LOA. Either way it happens on the watchtower.

Either Flash see’s the clone of Damian or see’s a photo of the clone and blue screens for a minute before loudly declaring “why are clones of Fenton’s kid being sent after you?” And then Batman blue screens because who the fuck is Fenton and why does flash think Damian is his kid?

And so flash goes on the explain That Danny works with him at Star labs and he’s got a kid name Damian who arrived a few years ago because his mother passed away and apparently he’d never told him she was pregnant. So obviously he took him no questions asked. Honestly the two of them are great together. I know there was a bit of a rough patch at the start, I can’t imagine what it’s like for a kid to be uprooted from everything he knows and loves to be placed in a new place with a basic stranger, but the two of them seemed to work it out. Barry invited them over for holiday dinners sometimes they’re a sweet family.

And now Bruce is blue screening for another reason because some civilian took in a ten year old assassin and is still alive but also has a thriving relationship with Damian? He doesn’t believe it.

So when Bruce returns to the cave he looks up Fenton, finds a whole lot of questionable things about his family, but none of them apply to him. Guys just a dude working on renewable energy sources. And he see’s pictures of Danny with his son and yeah, that’s definitely Damian Wayne, except this Damian has a small smile on his face and an exasperated look of fondness as 30 year old Fenton hugs him from behind.

Another photo shows Danny decked out in fan gear sporting Damian’s name as the now 11-12 year old hides his head in embarrassment. Damian in question is wearing a martial arts uniform. A later post shows he was at a competition and won. Bruce half expected to find articles about major injury caused to opponents Damian competed against, but video’s of the competition show intense fighting, sure, but nothing lethal and no unessessary damage. Damian is respectful as one should be in this environment and Bruce isn’t convinced he’s looking at the same feral 10 year old that was dropped at his door step.

Dick makes the first move when word gets out, naturally. He shows up in Central City and makes his way to Star Labs where he requests a meeting with Danny. He explains that Damian is his younger adoptive brother. That when he went missing it cause a rift between Dick and Bruce (“Bruce Wayne?” Danny asks for clarification then laughs “knew there was a reason I didn’t like billionaires.” And Dick almost laughs at that). Dick had been looking for Damian all this time and would like a chance to reconnect with him. He understands if that’s not an option, Damian seems like he’s happy and healthy and knowing how he was treated when he first arrived, Dick is almost relieved, but if there’s a chance to see his baby brother he wants to take it.

Danny nods and says he’ll bring it up with Damian. Leave me your number and I’ll message you what he thinks.

Damian takes a week, but decides to meet up with Grayson. Their first meeting is at a local cafe. They sit alone at the table, but Danny is a few away just out hearing distance (if he had normal hearing) being a silent support for his son. The next visit Danny invites him over for Dinner. They’d moved into a house by now and Damian had an entire room dedicated to swords he collects. “I don’t use them much, but they’re part of a history I belong to and having them feels right.” They also have a sparing room because in Danny’s words “he has too much energy for his tiny body. Once we found a way for him to regularly let it out he calmed down a lot.”

Dick is completely charmed. Tells Bruce that Damian is happy where he is and to fuck off, but he expresses it over many words.

Of course that doesn’t stop Bruce. Who approaches Danny out of the blue, practically Cornnering him and says he’ll charge him with kidnapping if he doesn’t return Damian to him. That danny has no idea who or what Damian is or what he comes from.

Danny, in return, just laughs. “Kidnapping charges won’t stick,” is all he says. “And I know more about who Damian is and where he came from than you do. More importantly, I was able to see past it and treat him like the slightly feral ten year old he is. Let me guess? You tried to change him? Cut off his beliefs and ideologies cold turkey? Got frustrated when he couldn’t turn off ten years of learned habits like a light switch? How they keep letting you adopt children is beyond me Bruce, but your not taking my kid I can promise you that.”

Bruce still tries. Sends his lawyers after Danny and Danny sends back a legal document signed by Talia that passed guardianship of Damian over to him. Talia had tried to come collect her son at some point. If he wasn’t with Bruce then he would be by her side. Danny Ghost King Fenton, said this is my kid and you aren’t taking him before beating down almost an entire legion of assassins and Talia herself. “You abandoned him, even if out of love, and his father rejected him. Damian’s mine now.” And Talia recognizes strength when she sees it and knows her son will be safe, but also see’s the way that Danny is encouraging her son’s connection to his heritage and not forcing him to change, just calm down. So she signs the papers and leaves them with Danny because she does love her son in her own weird ways and she will see him safe and happy, it’s unfortunate she believed bruce would be up to the task.

The adoption is airtight. Since Talia raised him and Brice didn’t know he was real (and also ghost lawyers are crazy good) Damian stays a Fenton and Thrives.

Thalia swings through sometimes to visit. Sometimes she meets up with damian, other times she meets up with Danny and hears about how her son is doing. If anyone asks, Thalia is Damian’s aunt, who travels and couldn’t take him in after his mother passed so she tracked down Danny.

Bruce is furious, but also resigned. Outside of kidnapping, there’s not much else he can do. And even if he chose to push even harder on the legal route, the arrival of Dick in Fenton’s social media would cause issues because Dick would voice his support for Danny no doubt and also speak on the initial attitude bruce had towards Damian when he first arrived. So no. He has to content himself watching his son be raised by someone else who was able to do for Damian what Bruce failed to do.

ugh i’m craving cottage pie sooooo bad. yummmmm