#how the fuck did you make it work?

[wandixx]

I like the idea of deified Batman, but I also thought 'hey, Wonder Woman is a demigoddess, she would be perfect for that!' I think Raven could also work but I don't feel like I know her enough to write her yet.

So I've written a story about sick and tired Danny doing emergency mentor summoning and ending up with Diana. I mean, she had at least two proteges and I haven't heard a thing about her being awful at that so she is probably more than fitting for the role.

So, yeah, just. Danny and Diana. I hope I haven't messed up characterisation too badly.

Feel free to point out my mistakes, English isn't my first language so I'm trying to convince myself it's actually educational and I'm not wasting my time instead of learning to ✨most important exam in my life✨

Anyways...

***********

Danny was having a week, one of the worst weeks of his life at that. Vlad was being a creep again, Sam and Tucke had no-talk days, Jazz was pestering him about his grades and emotions, his parents created new weapons, upping the security system, ghosts were coming around like it was going out of style and on top of that, sleep deprivation finally took the tool of his immune system and he caught a cold. He was exhausted, he had a fever and he didn’t even have enough time to cry over it. He was desperate. He needed help like a normal human needed air.

He needed a mentor.

Someone who could teach him how to use his powers better, how to deescalate conflicts (this would be useful to him both as Phantom and Fenton), how to balance hero and civilian life, how to improve his PR, how to keep civilians safe during his fights, how to lower property damage, how to patch himself up…

Yeah, he needed one heck of a competent hero.

Good thing Ghost Zone was big and he recently borrowed an occult book from Sam. There had to be at least one ghost out there that could help him. His luck couldn’t be this bad. He just had to draw a good circle and think of the right offering. Would it be blood? He kind of didn’t want to deal with someone who required blood. But what else he had? Oh, right, Mom made a fudge earlier that day, there still has to be some left. Mom’s fudge was great, it should be enough. He just had to snatch it from the kitchen without getting too injured. Easy enough.

He returned from a successful hunt with half a batch of fudge, a knife, a few plates, and little nicks on his cheek and arm. He put it all down on the floor next to his bed. He opened the book, which was big enough to be used in self-defense, searching for a chapter about tools. He covered himself in the thickest blanket he owned. God, why was his room so cold?

He almost fell asleep three times while reading and even his energy drink had trouble keeping him awake. But he understood enough. Chalk was often used to make summoning but it wasn’t necessary. A tool used to write had to be infused with magic, whatever that meant and chalk was easiest. There was even contact info for the guy who had been selling this stuff. Danny just hoped that the ecto-contamination of his house infused itself with his pens enough for it to count. Shiver went down his spine s he fixed his blanket. He would kill for something warm to drink but he wasn’t willing to face the kitchen again. He considered wrapping himself in a comforter but chose against it. It would restrain his movement too much and he would like to not fall asleep before he finished. It would be really awkward to explain to his parents what he even tried to do if they found him like that.

Never mind, let’s get down to business. If it worked and if making a deal didn’t take too long, he could even catch four hours of sleep and that’s a treat. So with all the enthusiasm he could muster, he tore a page from the middle of his notebook and drew basic circle as accurately as he could manage. There a little problem appeared. He had to personalize his summoning but he didn’t have an exact person on mind, so it wasn’t like he could just slap their name and some titles on top. Thank god, Sam’s book came with a little rune dictionary and it seemed like his ghost side instinctually knew some of this stuff. He could make it.

He opened his pen and immediately wrote two symbols.

Hero. Mentor.

He bit the end of his marker. What else should he put?

Reliable. Kind. Patient. Safety. No harm from summoner and sumonee. Warrior. Diplomat…

Quite some time and over two dozen runes later by leaned back with a satisfied smile. This should be good enough. He really couldn’t think of another loophole he should look out for.

He put paper that was almost more blue than white on the floor next to fudge and rolled to get candles he borrowed from Jazz (without her knowledge but he planned to give it back) with matches. He didn’t trust any lighter in his house.

From there, it took only a few moments to set everything up. He started chanting, hoping against hope that this would work. However, it seemed to do work. When glow arose, he had passing thought that he should stand up and drop the blanket so he didn’t look pathetic, but choose against it after almost eating shit during the first try. Maybe his ghostly mentor would be more willing to guide him if he looked as miserable as he felt. It didn’t matter. The shine of the circle dimed, the figure of a high, muscled woman becoming clearer in a poorly lit room.

Danny was glad he was sitting because he wasn’t sure he could keep himself from scrambling and falling if he was up.

In the middle of his little, messy room, in all her Amazon warrior glory stood Wonder Woman.

*~*~*~*

Diana had quite honestly great week. There were no world-ending threats, villains in her city were quiet (which was suspicious but she liked her off time and wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the teeth), tasks at her civilian work were going smoothly and other members of the Justice League also didn’t have big problems, so their bi-weekly, mandatory meeting quickly devolved into a gossip session. It was so calm that even Bruce let himself be dragged into more unofficial conversation and shared a story of his kids’ most recent shenanigans.

Probably that’s the reason why the sudden hit of nausea and blurring vision caught her so off guard. Then world faded for no longer that single beat of heart. One moment, she was laughing at Clark’s parental struggles, sitting in a brightly lit, spacious room of Watchtower and next she was standing in a quiet, dark space in an unknown location. In front of her was a window, through which street lamps shone. There were other, less stable sources of light, which she quickly recognized as candles. As her eyes got used to darkness she was able to make out the shapes of things around her. It looked… innocent. Like a civilian bedroom. It took her way longer than she was willing to admit to realize that the shapeless bundle in front of her was a teenage boy covered in blanked, looking at her up and down with wide, glowing green eyes.

She shifted her weight and moved her head to let some of her hair fall on her face. She raised her hand to fix it, discretely turning on comm in the meantime.

The boy winced at that, pulled out of the shocked haze that just got him. He tried and failed to get up, twisted in the folds of his blanket. He tried again, this time slower and succeeding. He was short. No more than 5 feet 6 inches if she was guessing correctly.

“It’s not a kidnapping!” he whisper-yelled which was a concerning thing to say but was also relieving. The boy seemed honest and even more shocked at her appearance in his room than she was. It was promising.

“Alright, young man. Let’s say I believe you. Can you tell me where are we?” she asked with calm confidence. She shifted again to lower her face closer to the boy’s eye level.

“FentonWorks, Amity Park, Illinois, United States. First floor” he stated, voice hoarse. He moved under his blanket. Good thing he wanted to cooperate at least “I’m so sorry Miss Wonder Woman, ma’am. I didn’t know this could work on living people too. I’ll send you back, just give me a moment to find the right rune” he added, already picking big, old looking book from the floor. He sat back at an unmade bed, muttering something.

She could work with that.

However the comment about ‘living people’ was a little concerning. But first, she needed better light to asses her situation accurately.

“It’ll be easier with the light turned on” she proposed with a gentle smile. Boy raised his head to look at her with a slow, blank blink. Only after a moment, realization dawned on his face.

“Right sorry, sorry” he muttered, stumbling on his feet.

“We confirmed your location. He was right. We’re sending help. Give it ten minutes.” Bruce announced over the comm.

She tapped her bracelet once to let her teammates know she heard them but couldn’t talk and then did the same thing three times in rapid succession. She squinted her eyes when the boy turned on a lamp.

“What do you mean ‘no’?!” Bruce sounded exasperated. She ignored him instead looking around the messy room she was in and the boy who managed to summon her. He didn’t look well.

“Tell me, could you hold on to my lasso for the rest of our talk?” Of course, she could bind him with it without his consent but it always made things easier. Additionally, she had no idea what he was capable of. She better play it safe until she had a better grasp on the situation.

Boy was clearly hesitant (understandably so if he knew what her weapon did) but with a sigh far wearier than a person his age should manage, he outstretched his hand waiting for Golden Perfect.

“I dragged you all the way here, it’s only fair” He admitted still quiet, grabbing lasso before picking his book back up. He seemed adamant about getting her back.

"What is your name, young sorcerer?"

“Daniel Jack Fenton. Please call me Danny. I’m really not a sorcerer this is my first time summoning someone and I probably won’t do it again. I’m sorry for getting you here I really didn’t want it to happen” newly named Danny almost pleaded. Now that she could see him properly, she realized that he looked sickly. He was pale like dead other than an ill blush that graced his cheek accompanied by a bleeding cut, bugs under his (now mundanely blue), bloodshot, glazed, unfocused eyes were so dark they almost seemed to be bruised. He was shivering under his thick blanket despite how warm his room was even without it. He should be in bed with a warm drink, not summoning unknown entities. Diana was suddenly very glad she got dragged instead of something possibly hostile boy wouldn’t be able to stop.

“Thank you, Danny. I’m not mad at you, it’s clear you didn’t want me to get here in the first place. But you don’t look too good, how do you feel?”

She heard her teammates stop planning for a moment.

Boy for his part, looked at her absolutely baffled. His shock grew even stronger when he answered “Bad” against his will. He covered his mouth with wide eyes, lasso still twisted around his left palm.

She wanted to press a little more but she wasn’t Batman. She understood when interrogation was a bad idea.

“Alright. Why don’t you put your book down and go to rest then? My friends can be here in a few minutes.”

Boy stared at space vaguely around her head, clearly considering pros and cons, tempted to take her offer. However before he could answer, mist left his mouth in a way that was normally impossible in such warm room. Danny jumped on his feet, dropping his blanket in the process, ready to fight. His feet were too far from each other, raised hands positioned in a way that left his almost entire torso unprotected. His whole pose screamed lack of proper training. Diana tensed and readied herself too, promising herself to teach Danny some proper combat after everything was settled and he healed.

“Do you know what we will face?” she whispered but before she was answered sound of high high-powered laser gun erupted from the room under them and no longer than a blink later, at least a 7-foot-tall robot with a mohawk phased through ground.

“Skulker” Danny sighed “Can we do it another time? I’m kinda busy” he tried to quip, still quiet, vaguely gesturing towards her. She doubted that whoever it was would care that by was busy if they attacked him so sick and exhausted. On the other hand, her presence could be enough of a threat to make the assailant go away. Naïve, but she could understand this line of thought. She put her hand on her sword, trying to look both imposing and non-provocative.

The robot laughed in a surprisingly organic way. Danny prepared to jump.

“You’ll not trick me like that, Phantom!” the robot announced loud like a cannon “I, Skulker, the Greatest Hunter in the entire Ghost Zone will have your pelt in my lair. Today days of your running come to an end.”

That sounded really, really bad. League was aware of the existence of a hero called Phantom and was meaning to reach out but because he was amazingly effective but showed no interest in things outside of his city, it wasn’t too high on their list of priorities. However now, it turned out that said hero was fourteen years old, clearly an overwhelmed kid doing his best.

“What a shameful being you are to attack a child at a time like that.” Skulker looked at her with a studious gaze.

“Amazon. Your bunch is such a rare sight. Not as rare as halfa but-”

“LEAVE HER OUT OF THIS!” Danny screeched, talking the robot to the ground. Soon boy was thrown to the wall, not letting as much as a whimper at the impact. Even more, he tried to get up and continue fighting like all heroes tended to do. Hunter flew towards him with a low chuckle. Gods help her, she was not going to let him touch this child ever again.

She beat Skulker and tied him up before Danny managed to stand back up. It was nice to see pure awe in his eyes when he looked at his tied up rogue. It took even less time to trap this monster in one of the containment devices boy had lying around. She couldn’t get over its resemblance to an actual thermos, especially after the young hero used words–  

“Soup time”

As a catchphrase.

"Sorry, I'm usually better than that."

Obviously, he was sick and exhausted. 

"You did as well as you could"

There was the sound of footsteps on the other side of the door.

“Danny, honey, are you alright? I heard those ghost scums again, don’t worry Mom’ll be there in a second” the middle-aged woman said, getting closer. Diana looked around for a potential hiding spot. Neither she nor Danny (probably) wanted to explain her presence there.

“Sorry Mom, I was watching one of older fights and my headphones unplugged. I didn’t know it would wake you up, sorry”

“It’s alright sweetheart. Don’t stay up for too long, you have school tomorrow and tell us if you find anything on ghosts” Mrs. Fenton answered with a soft, motherly tone. If Danny wasn’t clearly too sick to function, it would be picture perfect family moment.” Especially on this Phantom scum, we need to get rid of him soon, people are starting to believe his manipulations” addition oozed with hatred, successfully destroying last bits of illusion. Diana almost winced. Danny didn’t suppress this instinct.

“It wasn’t Phantom’s”

“Alright. Good night Danny.”

“ ‘Night Mom”

As soon as they heard the door to presumably a woman’s bedroom closing, the boy turned to her with wide eyes.

“They don’t know and they are ghost hunters.”

Phantom was often called a ghost. Oh.

It just kept getting worse.

“They are a good parents and love both of their kids. I’m sure they’ll accept me I’m just not ready to have this talk.”

Diana nodded silently. She really didn’t know how to go about it, especially since she just saw that his parents weren’t really as good as he thought they were. Though it was nice that they weren’t bad enough to kill his hope for acceptance.

Only then did her eyes land on a paper sheet more ink blue than white that got her summoned. She got it from the ground and started reading. Her skills in this matter were a little rusted but she had spent far too much time learning this to ever forget. Her eyes widened just the slightest bit when she deciphered the two biggest symbols.

“You tried to summon help. A mentor” she whispered. It wasn’t really a question but Danny nodded anyway, eyes locked on the floor. All of a sudden, he looked embarrassed.

“I honestly hoped I’d just have to strike a deal with a heroic ghost, sorry it got you instead.”

Diana smiled.

“How about we meet next week when you’re healthier and well-rested and you tell me what help you need?”

Short DPXDC Prompts #926

There’s so many “Batfam/Justice League summons Danny” ideas out there. What if it was the other way around? Danny, desperate for a mentor and wisdom in defending his small town, summons a Being of Justice to help teach him how to be a vigilante.

[inkskinned]

at some point it's just like. do they even fucking like the thing they're asking AI to make? "oh we'll just use AI for all the scripts" "we'll just use AI for art" "no worries AI can write this book" "oh, AI could easily design this"

like... it's so clear they've never stood in the middle of an art museum and felt like crying, looking at a piece that somehow cuts into your marrow even though the artist and you are separated by space and time. they've never looked at a poem - once, twice, three times - just because the words feel like a fired gun, something too-close, clanging behind your eyes. they've never gotten to the end of the movie and had to arrive, blinking, back into their body, laughing a little because they were holding their breath without realizing.

"oh AI can mimic style" "AI can mimic emotion" "AI can mimic you and your job is almost gone, kid."

... how do i explain to you - you can make AI that does a perfect job of imitating me. you could disseminate it through the entire world and make so much money, using my works and my ideas and my everything.

and i'd still keep writing.

i don't know there's a word for it. in high school, we become aware that the way we feel about our artform is a cliche - it's like breathing. over and over, artists all feel the same thing. "i write because i need to" and "my music is how i speak" and "i make art because it's either that or i stop existing." it is such a common experience, the violence and immediacy we mean behind it is like breathing to me - comes out like a useless understatement. it's a cliche because we all feel it, not because the experience isn't actually persistent. so many of us have this ... fluttering urgency behind our ribs.

i'm not doing it for the money. for a star on the ground in some city i've never visited. i am doing it because when i was seven i started taking notebooks with me on walks. i am doing it because in second grade i wrote a poem and stood up in front of my whole class to read it out while i shook with nerves. i am doing it because i spent high school scribbling all my feelings down. i am doing it for the 16 year old me and the 18 year old me and the today-me, how we can never put the pen down. you can take me down to a subatomic layer, eviscerate me - and never find the source of it; it is of me. when i was 19 i named this blog inkskinned because i was dramatic and lonely and it felt like the only thing that was actually permanently-true about me was that this is what is inside of me, that the words come up over everything, coat everything, bloom their little twilight arias into every nook and corner and alley

"we're gonna replace you". that is okay. you think that i am writing to fill a space. that someone said JOB OPENING: Writer Needed, and i wrote to answer. you think one raindrop replaces another, and i think they're both just falling. you think art has a place, that is simply arrives on walls when it is needed, that is only ever on demand, perfect, easily requested. you see "audience spending" and "marketability" and "multi-line merch opportunity"

and i see a kid drowning. i am writing to make her a boat. i am writing because what used to be a river raft has long become a fully-rigged ship. i am writing because you can fucking rip this out of my cold dead clammy hands and i will still come back as a ghost and i will still be penning poems about it.

it isn't even love. the word we use the most i think is "passion". devotion, obsession, necessity. my favorite little fact about the magic of artists - "abracadabra" means i create as i speak. we make because it sluices out of us. because we look down and our hands are somehow already busy. because it was the first thing we knew and it is our backbone and heartbreak and everything. because we have given up well-paying jobs and a "real life" and the approval of our parents. we create because - the cliche again. it's like breathing. we create because we must.

you create because you're greedy.

[bacchuschucklefuck]

they licensed his ass

my finished piece of the FWMS (official name definitely 100%) thing we started a few days ago! I had fun I hope folks had and/or continue to have fun with the sketch as well.

[sbeana]

the pool scene

[mossy-paws]

these fuckass robots that I hate /aff (Ultrakill x PHIGHTING!)

the girls are PHIGHTING! again

[stil-lindigo]

PARTY ROCKERS IN THE HOUUUUSE TONIIIIGHT

[galactaknightyaoi]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, GALACTA KNIGHT!!!! And congratulations to Meta Knight for experiencing the Cain Instinct for the first time.

Galacta Knight, as you might've been able to tell already, is one of my favorite characters, and KSSU is one of my favorite games (the original SS was my introduction to Kirby!) so I wanted to go all out. Happy day, old man. I pray for at least 20 more years.

Oh, and don't worry! He's not upset about the cake smash, he thinks it's funny. And he got back at him.

As for the in-universe explanation for there being 16 candles in his cake?

... 500+ didn't fit in safely.

The birthday boy and his family were just a bit too flammable.

[nebuladreamz]

A little different than last year's, but here we are again. To say that this past year hasn't been absolutely wild would be a lie, cause HOLY SHIT MAN

This year's birthday is. A little different for me, but you already have the silly comic to show that so I won't make like a broken record oops

But, despite the changes and hills that life's decided I should climb or throw at, it hasn't changed the fact that I'm so genuinely fucking thankful to the people that I've known since joining this fandom. I'm not even kidding when I say that being here has actually changed my life for the better. I know I said something similar last year, but this time, hoo boy it sure turned up the AMP and test how far I could go.

So, to everyone, both new and old; thank you for being here :D

@garbagechocolate @darkxsoulzyx @smoljeanius @bunmuffin @skizabaa

@tuzesdays @sleepykas @fernzwing @kandidandi @starsketchez

@just-a-drawing-bean @notdysfunk @ilsole @amberluvsbugs @cloudyvoid

@nomsthecat @alfinefalf @nosleepygay @theblog-with-thestuff

@cacaocheri

(Edit: ty kibbits for informing me of the. Fuck ass tagging system)

AND TAGGING OTHERS BECAUSE. POINTS. BONKS WITH HEAD. GETTING TO EITHER INTERACT OR TALK OR WHATEVER IS ALWAYS A DELIGHT

@ohno-the-sun @kibbits @ink-yy @saltyfryz @kaprisvn

@hierba-picante @sunny-sophies-garden @cookiiemancer @sneeblbop @justaduckarts

@pepethehumanz @crystalmagpie447 @woolysstuff @mocha-illustrates @duhsty1

@sanchensky @pillowspace @victarin @witherfide

[I DEFINITELY GOT SONAS WRONG AND THESE AREN'T ALL THE SILLY PEOPLE I KNOW BUT IM SITTING HERE AT 2:30 IN THE MORNING JUST KNOW YOU'RE THERE IN SPIRIT HANDING YOU ALL POPTARTS WAUGH]

[gabe-lovebot]

councilor 3D model

i learnt 3d modelling from the ground up to bring him to life. he's yours now. do whatever you want with him

[link]

please credit me if you make something using the model (or even ping/link me to it, i would love to see what you made!)

currently available as a .blend, .fbx and an SFM port.

[mercurymacaroons]

arrives 15 min late with a latte

......sup

[blueskittlesart]

I DONT WANT AN HD REMAKE OF THE GAME I WANT TO PLAY IT WITH ITS ORIGINAL UI AND GRAPHICS IN MY NATIVE LANGUAGE. PLEASEEEEEE

[6sleft]

eheheheaghagfhf........,,

[inkskinned]

"don't make it political!" .... what proportion of death and suffering must occur before politics are involved. if this isn't political, what is even the point of any politics, ever. of democracy. the words are "by the people for the people." if i am going to be left alone by my elected representatives to "figure it out" - to undergo damage, hardship, fear. what the fuck did i elect them for. what was their job. the entire point is that they handle this shit. this is why we were supposed to be electing leaders.

poverty is political. misogyny is political. gun control is political. climate change is political. how much aid a community gets is political. what the fuck are you talking about. it's been political this whole fucking time.

[bacchuschucklefuck]

while teen while goblin while aroace while injured while doing your best

[ganondoodle]

got this reblog on one of my posts were i talked about being anxious about the future of the zelda series after totk and-

i even went back and unblocked them just to check my own post and check twice what they meant exactly- but i still dont know how they got to these conclusions

i never said i 'want a good uwu ganondorf' (bc that would mean hes aligned with hyrule bc thats how goodness works!!!!11!1!!!), i also dont think of any of the zeldas as 'whores' (seriously, where did that come from?? neither me nor the addition of someone agreeing with me said anything like that??? did they think bc the addition called tloz misogynistic means we think zelda is a whore????? huh???)

its also funny how they say they want zelda to stay a simple fairytale rather than have 'people like me' bc .. one point i talked about in the og post was how the evil arab thing VS good white people media likes to do so much is so normalized here that its simply seen as a simple harmless fairytale trope instead of a big underlying issue in general media and the writers might not even realize it (which is worse) bc the most 'generic' appeal is to people who dont think of it as a problem in the first place, because it is so normalized

(huh, i wonder about what kind of person that part was about .. hmmmm)

(ALSO funny they mention princess hilda as nuanced villain ... like ... wow they are so nuanced about purple haired people!!- like guess why we want a nuanced/less badly/less flat written ganondorf and what he, in particular, has not in common with other villains! its not his hair color! .... or was that point supposed to mean .. look we have one female character that is a villain, its not misogynistic! idk honestly)

(and the classic, "you just call it this/dont like it bc its not what you wanted !!!!!!!2!"1!112!!")

also funny how its 'never gonna be progressive enough' like asking for the franchise to maybe put a little more thought and nuance into their white divine right vs evil desert man simulator instead of making it worse is already asking too much

(i dont know what the last point has to do with anything??)

(also yes totk is racist, like most if not all of the franchise and a alot of other media as well, shocker- you can still like it though, i and plenty of other people are still fans of it, we just wish they did a little more with their stuff and maybe not make the racism problem WORSE)

(also yes the hyrule monarchy is also evil :))) )

(and also not so secretly so either :)) )

[vinestaff]

me and that fucking subspace that i hate

raw version without the pixelated jazzy filters and stuff :3