#insult prompt

[seaside-writings]

Prompt #1,274

"If he wants to breathe, then he needs to pull his head out of his ass,"

[afanofmanyships]

Inspiration

Batman: Who are you.

Danny, while maintaining eye contact, reaches forward and takes off the bat symbol: …

Danny sprays it with Windex, wipes it with a rag, and puts the symbol back into Batman’s chest: …I’m the cleaner.

Batman feeling offended: Hn…

Red Robin covers his mouth: Oh My God!

Red Hood: He. Did. Not!!

JLA: *Gossiping in the background*

JLD & Danny:

[the-cypress-grove]

Insults (Fantasy Edition)

They're as useful as a wet blanket in the middle of winter

I could talk to my horse and have a better conversation

She did love her family, but she'd rather have an ocean between her and them.

He was the kind of man to stumble across rational thought quite by accident and dismiss it as absurd

'Quite frankly, I'd rather eat Hemlock.'

I know the gods do not exist, because if they did, they would've struck you down by now.

Well, you're clearly got some troll ancestry.

That's probably the wisest thing you've ever said and yet still you are wrong.

Do you just sit there all day and hope some sort of sentient through floats in your direction

She was tolerable. From a distance.

They were often wrong but never in doubt.

[spacedace]

Thinking about the untapped comedic potential of the Batfam explaining to new hero in Gotham & literal ghost Phantom that they don't kill people.

And Danny, professional menace, responding with "What? You guys have a problem with dead people or something?" In the most serious, insulted voice he can manage just to watch them squirm.

(Jason is having a great time)

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

Deathstroke kept working at the lock on the upstairs window while talking to him, calling him "Nightwings secret son" in the creepiest voice Danny has ever heard as Danny watched him from the computer monitor. This guy had been trying to break in and kidnap Danny for days but the house keeps fighting him off and Danny was on his very first stay-cation away from ghosts. He wasn't going to deal with this wierdo if he could avoid it.

He had put a lot of work into setting this up. He and Jazz had convinced thier parents to go to a two week occult conference in Fawcett City and leave Danny home alone while Jazz was off taking collage classes in Central City in hopes that it will help her get into her dream collage when she turns 18. Danny even sent Vlad on a while goose chase that sent him into the path of that trench coat guy people kept warning him about before shutting down the portals.

Danny refuses to let all of his effort go to waste and the house is pretty well defended so he decided to just use this as entertainment as he munches on dry cereal.

They didn't have any popcorn in the house and he's not leaving with captain crazy still out there.

Eventually Danny gets bored and @s Nightwing on Chirper simply telling him that Deathstroke was trying to kidnap him and it has something to do with Nightwing. He sends him a fail compilation video of all the times Deathstroke failed to get into the house and getting progressively more angry. The last video showed Deathstroke absolutely enraged.

Danny thought that Nightwing probably had a similar situation with Deathstroke that Danny himself have with Vlad and that he'd laugh and show it to all his superhero friends and they'd mock him together.

He was not expecting half of the batclan in Amity Park 3 hours later. Nor was he expecting to get kidnapped by the bats the moment he was out of the house.

He was most upset by everyone calling him a dick though. Was what he did really that bad? Talking back to adults usually didn't get him anywhere so he just kept quiet and went with them, expecting to have to give testimony to the police or something.

[greenglowinspooks]

Alright, since it’s no longer 2 in the morning and my head’s a bit clearer, I present to you:

Liminal Riddler

So, not everyone in the DC fandom knows about this, and I’d bet that even less people in the Phandom do, but at one point, the Riddler had cancer. Had, past-tense, because he cured it. With the Lazarus pits.

And yeah, not everyone who gets dipped in the pits has to be liminal, but one would assume that the sudden replacement of a large number of malignant cells throughout the body is gonna do something.

The Riddler already acts quite a lot like a DP ghost in some interpretations anyways. He’s got a strict gimmick that he genuinely can’t part ways with, he’s campy and fun, he’s incredibly violent, etc.

Also, the way that he would react to this whole thing would be funny as hell.

Do I think the Riddler would really care if the GiW was after him? No. This is Gotham, the government is constantly going after him anyways.

Do I think he would care if Danny was being hunted down by the same people, and his parents were involved? Somewhat. He probably wouldn’t care about Danny specifically, at least not right away, but a young boy running terrified from his own parents would definitely bring back some bad memories, and he would probably give him a hand (if for no other reason than to get back to plotting crimes instead of dealing with childhood trauma).

Do I think the Riddler, whose entire thing is being smarter than everyone else, would care if the GiW somehow let slip that they thought he didn’t have human intelligence? That they believed him to be nothing but an echo of human life?

It’s not even a question. He would be the most insufferable person in Gotham within the hour. Genuinely nothing could stop him, especially not if Danny was helping jailbreak him from Arkham every time he got caught.

Almost every major road is closed. Every warehouse on the Docks is on fire. Somehow, they managed to color the clouds and smog a bright green.

The natives of Gotham would probably get those anti-ghost laws and acts overturned faster than the Justice League, if only to make the Riddler stop. His traps and games aren’t even lethal at this point (due to Danny’s insistence), but they’re so genuinely annoying that the general population is about to beat the GiW agents to death themselves just to get the Riddler to quit it already.

Also, I think that during this whirl of chaos, the Riddler would become quite fond of Danny.

He’s a bright young boy who’s very fond of wordplay, and inventive enough to keep up with him. Aside from the inevitable crisis of “oh god I’m becoming the bat,” he’d probably be happy to take on Danny as his protégé. Even if the boy won’t let him kill anyone (rude), he’s a terrifying getaway driver and can turn the both of them invisible and intangible, making Arkham escapes a breeze.

Hell, the Riddler would probably be willing to make a false identity for the two of them, just so he could get the boy proper schooling.

(Yes, he thinks that the entire education system is a sham and that he could do much better, but Danny wants to go into aerospace engineering, and the Riddler isn’t one to squander someone’s interest in learning.)

(Also, Echo and Query would find the whole thing hilarious)

[blueflipflops]

DP x DC Idea

One day Danny is gonna call Bruce 'fruitloop' and Bruce 'haven't sleep for a week, no thoughts head empty himbo' Wayne would just blurt out "How did you know that I'm bi?!"

They both instantly regret having this conversation.

[stealingyourbones]

Many employees of the Daily Planet weren’t a fan of Steve Lombard, the most hateful of them all was a new copyboy by the name of Sam Manson

[autocrats-in-love]

Prompt (462)

The villain smiled. “Aw, did you just call me a nickname?”

“I called you a pain in my ass,” the hero snapped.

“Still counts!”

[murmuring-mycelium]

hi friendly reminder that chronic illnesses and disabilities can affect every aspect of a person. from getting out of bed, ability for self care, sex life, physical appearance (yes this includes genitalia), exercise, weight, sleep schedule, and more.

most people are aware of the pain, fatigue, weak immune system, but you don’t really see people talking about the more mundane things…

my gums bleed when i brush my teeth because connective tissue disorders don’t just affect internal connective tissue.

weight loss is incredibly difficult for me, and despite being underweight, it’s not visible.

i can’t get braces because my teeth would just go back to their original place.

anaesthetics affect me differently.

my body looks visibly different and conventionally unattractive by societies standards, and my chronic illness plays a very very big part in that.

some parts of my organs are literally dead inside of me.

be mindful of what you say and how you judge people. you don’t know what they’re experiencing.

[this post was written by someone with heds, with heds mainly in mind]

[emacrow]

For the longest time Danny did not want the crown nor did he want to be king. The floating eyeballs where somewhat overjoyed at that but knew they would need to find a reason to make him take up the crown.

Just so they could hopefully challenge him for the right to rule. That halfia did not realize what kind of power he had and yet did not seem to want.

Till one day he not only took up The Crown but The Ring to. Why one might ask.

Jazz his lovely sister and world renowned was asked to have a talk with The Joker. If he was king he had diplomatic immunity and he knew how to prevent people from becoming ghost too thanks to collecting most of John Constantine soul contracts

Only reason he will take the crown that day just to spector the talk.

Only he and Jazz can see how messed up Joker's soul was, not because the crimes he committed but much worse and deeper then anyone in gotham had known yet.

It was like someone had mold play-doe with this guy's cracked up soul, mixed up names of previous and present lives and past personalities like Jack Oswald White, Arthur Fleck, and Jack Napier and more others being a mismatched into each other into some sort of abomination Frankenstein and physical glued together into a single soul with raw glowing green chemicals in a shape of a smile. Obsessions mixed up with uncontrollable laughter, the color green and purple, very creepy stalker borderline level standard with Batman/Brucie and trying to get him to laugh, he hatred for the robin for getting batman to laugh at his joke instead of his jokes, and pure insane mayhem with life as a joke.

This was unnatural even to most fucked up Soul standards, yet pretty fascinating in a way that would explained why he survived so many life ending attempts on his life.

Jazz couldn't even psychoanalysis him without having a major migraines after 5 minutee with the pure amount of information that just keep going like a broken Dam bursting at the seam.seams..

The questions burns deeply with the both of them though...

How did this happen to him? Who done this to him? Was it even fixable at this point? And whom is the person messing with someone's Soul to turn someone into this..?

[seaside-writings]

Prompt #1,287

“Fuck you is what it says,”

[shanastoryteller]

Happy Pride! Jim & Spock? Can be in the Sybokverse or on their own eitherway is perfect!

a continuation of 1 2 3 4 5

“I believe I have the right to face my accuser.”

Jim is going to tear this asshole apart.

There’s muttering throughout the crowd, the auditorium filled to the brim for one cadet’s academic dishonesty disciplinary hearing. These are always open to be attended by the accused’s peers, but usually no one bothers, having far better things to do on a Friday morning. Jim is flattered, honestly.

Admiral Archer nods and everyone turns as one of the instructors stands and walks stiffly to the other podium.

Jim is honestly taken aback. A Vulcan giving him shit over this? He squints, trying to place him, suddenly sure he’s seen him somewhere before. Possibly just in the halls, but the familiarity feels deeper than that. He’s met a lot of Vulcans, to be fair.

“Cadet,” he greets.

“Defend the logic of your accusation,” he says, falling into familiar vernacular and only barely keeping himself from saying it in formal Vulcan. This guy might appreciate it, but Archer won’t, and Chris had told him not to be too much of an asshole.

The Vulcan raises an eyebrow. “The purpose of the test is to assess your response to no win scenarios. Altering the parameters, while admittedly an impressive feat of programming, shows both your lack of understanding and your casual disregard for the institution of Starfleet.”

“I don’t believe in no win scenarios,” he says confidently, flashing a smile to the assembled admirals that, in different circumstances, tends to get him laid.

He stiffens. “Your belief in them does not change their existence. In an impossible situation, you must react to the circumstances given to you. Anything else is entertaining delusions.”

“Bullshit,” Jim says immediately and sees Chris pinch the bridge of his nose. Oops. This is a perfect time to go into the speech that he has prepared, about how if he was actually trying to cheat he would have been more subtle about it, about how cheating was his answer to the question presented by the test, and how that applies to how he would really react as a captain.

But then the Vulcan gives him the bitchiest look he’s seen in – well, about four days, but he’s suddenly so sure where he knows him from.

~

Spock doesn’t understand how someone with so little regard for both etiquette and moral standards has survived this long in the academy. He’s intimately familiar with the doors that having a famous father can open, but surely there must be limits.

James Kirk opens his mouth, presumably to continue his insulting and inappropriate defense of his actions, then his eyes narrow, widen, and he demands, “Spock? S'Chn T'Gai Spock? Son of Amanda Grayson and S'Chn T'Gai Sarek?”

For a moment, all he can do is stare. “Have we met?”

His syntax when first faced with him had made him think that James Kirk was familiar with Vulcan, as unlikely as that seemed, but now he’s sure. Not only because of the correct pronunciation of his family name, but in how he has addressed him. Vulcan society is matriarchal. It is correct to identify him first as his mother’s son, and also appropriate to leave off his father’s title as ambassador when identifying his family origin, as his father’s position is supposed to be secondary to his mother’s. His mother married into his father’s clan, but that doesn’t change formal conventions.

Even on Vulcan, he is rarely identified correctly.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” James Kirk says, then takes out his communicator and starts typing.

What.

“Cadet Kirk!” Admiral Archer barks. “Put that away and comport yourself as your position demands or we’ll be here for more than accusations of your cheating.”

“Apologies, Admiral,” James Kirk says, placing his hands behind his back and looking like he’s taking this seriously for the first time. “If you’ll just allow a couple minutes-”

Spock’s communicator goes off.

“Commander,” Admiral Archer says warningly.

“One moment, please,” he says, his stomach rolling as he takes out the communicator. He’s hoping that this is another of James Kirk’s tricks, because when he’s placed it on silent only his family can contact him, and his mother marks all of her correspondence as non urgent. There is no good reason for his father to contact him.

He opens it up and blinks twice, to be certain of what he’s seeing.

Sybok has sent him a text base message. His elder brother never sends him text based communication, as he believes that Spock will not respond timely or authentically, and so only video calls him. Usually at inopportune times.

stop being mean to jimmy :(

He is a genius. Several things suddenly make sense all at once.

He is of course aware of his older brother’s dear friend who he only refers to as Jimmy. In the tragedy of Tarsus IV, when all should have been lost and the corrupt governor threatened to kill half the colony and did kill a not insignificant amount of them, it was Jimmy and Sybok who worked together to create a sort of resistance and keep people alive long enough to for their jury-rigged signal to make it through.

Receiving that strange message from Sybok after years of silence had let him, and their father, know that something was wrong and alert Starfleet.

Jimmy, who had been a minor at the time, and so his identity had been kept from the public at his request, and who had visited Sybok on Vulcan but Spock had examinations at the time and had not been permitted to travel across planet to meet him.

James Kirk looks at him, a smile hovering around the corners of his lips.

James Kirk. Colloquially known as Jim. Jimmy.

Spock had designed the Kobayashi Maru with his brother’s experience at Tarsus IV in mind. He had been different after, just as prone to arguing with their father, more prone to arguing with everyone else, but he’d been sturdier too. As if that experience had at once confirmed and destroyed all of his worst expectations of people.

James Kirk does not believe in no win scenarios and he has demonstrated that more aptly than any simulation could.

“I rescind my accusation of academic dishonesty towards Cadet Kirk.”

[a-candle-maker]

not tagging the person bcs i don't want to call anyone out but like,,,, saw this one girl and her post formatting made it even look like a chatgpt generated thing... checked her other stuff to see and they all had that one formatting... thought i'd tell her and like. babe. you turning off asks just about confirms it for me, i mean imma just guess that you noticed lots of asks telling you the same and decided we're sooooooooo mean!! and ignored it

[chernabogs]

EXECRATE

Inc: Meleanor, Raverne, Mallegg/Egglleus, Lilia mention Warnings: None; just a dad being ready to bat for his wife and kid WC: 1.9k Summary: Execrate: To be denounced; to be declared evil

“Have you seen the latest information?”

The question is posed in an innocuous enough manner that he looks up from the scrolls without a second thought. The guard holds out an avisa, a hand-written documentation of news circling Briar Nation in the past week. Raverne accepts the paper with a frown as he flips it over to read.

For the most part, it consists of propagandistic filth. A litany of lies regarding the ongoing disputes in the mines and in the deforestation of the nation. Claims in human villages that the fae are trying to drive their population out and claims in the fae villages that the humans are doing likewise. These are all issues that have been discussed to the point of exhaustion in the courts with nothing set in stone, meaning there was no release from the family to quell the fears. He skims it more before shaking his head, ready to hand it back to the guard with a gentle explanation that he knows all of this already before the last section of the avisa catches his eye.

Letter to the scribe. An opinion section that grants the literate of Briar Nation an opportunity to express thoughts. Usually these were words from the priests, or fellow scribes, or the political esteem looking to brighten their own reputation among the masses. This one, however, boldly stated in all uppercase across the front: OF THE DRACONIA FAMILY. 

“Oh dear,” he murmurs quietly as he shifts the avisa to see the section more clearly. The first line (History is abound with clear examples of negligent rulers, and it is a pity for Briar Nation to be classified in that section—) causes his eyebrow to raise. The next paragraph, which serves to be a venomous dissection of the family's history, present policies, and apparent future intentions causes both eyebrows to raise. However, it’s when he reaches the section that begins to meticulously document the faults of his wife and his unborn child that he finally crumples the avisa up into a white-knuckled hold. 

Raverne is not a man to become temperamental. Many would argue that, out of the three ‘leaders’ of Briar Nation, he’s the most genial anyone can run into. 

He is not feeling genial right now. 

“Do we know who the scribe for this avisa is?” He asks. His voice is calm in the same way the ocean is moments before a tsunami rips apart a coastal town. The guard scratches beneath their mask and shakes their head. The scribes of the papers work in organizations that individuals can petition to receive from, subbing to the scribe, in a sense. The organization is unlikely to give up any names, even at the request of royal authority.

“We could try and find the author of the opinion piece, but it may take us a while.” The guard offers. It’s a tempting proposition. Raverne can feel the thrum of his pulse in his ears as he unfurls the avisa to read the section again. Execration. It’s an ugly word befitting of the ugly meaning it carries. He knows his wife is a temperamental woman, prone to fits of anger and costing the royal family more than a few medical tabs in the past. She is not evil, however. His wife is a woman who cares deeply for those close to her, cares deeply for her people, and is more than willing to give up her entire existence for the betterment of the nation.

He’s already had to stop her a few times himself from doing so. 

“It would be pointless to waste efforts on that.” He sighs, finally setting the avisa down to look back at the maps scattered around him. He runs his hand over his face and can feel the twinge of a migraine beginning to dig into his temple. With a shake of his head, he dismisses the guards and begins to tidy up the mess before him. They have more important things to concern themselves with then a few choice words. A delegation was to be sent to the human encampment soon, with himself at the lead, and that was the main priority for now. Paper slander could be dealt with by the courtiers. 

__________________________________

It’s far later than anticipated by the time Raverne finally returns to his chambers. Despite this, he can see the flicker of candlelight from beneath the door, indicating that he isn’t the only one pulling a near all-night event. The faintest of smiles touches his lips as he quietly opens the door to step into the room. 

“I was wondering when you would emerge from your office.” Meleanor’s low voice is tinged with amusement as she remains at her vanity, not looking up from the letter she appears to be furiously writing. Their egg is wrapped in numerous blankets (ten, if he’s counting correctly) by the window, which is slightly ajar to let the summer breeze drift inside. “I was tempted to send a search party.”

“Oh, I hardly think I am worth riling up that pack of dogs.” He chuckles as he closes the door before tossing his overcoat onto the bed. The gesture earns him a sidelong glance from his wife, which he quickly eases with a kiss to her cheek. “I missed you.” 

“You miss me when we are apart for more than five minutes.” 

“Perfectly reasonable, if you ask me.” He counters. Despite her words, she can’t conceal the pleased smile that touches her lips as she signs her name to the letter. He leans against her back, his arms wrapping around her as he reads what she’s addressing. 

A detailed informational piece to be sent back to Blackscale regarding the tensions brewing in the surrounding regions. If she knows about the rumours regarding humans driving out fae and vice versa, then odds are that she, too, has read the recent avisa. The prospect of her reading the foul-mouthed comments regarding her status and that of their child sits unwell in Raverne’s stomach, prompting him to press another kiss to her head before he withdraws to check on their babe. 

Malleus—because that’s what Meleanor insists his name will be—is utterly unchanged from when he saw him this morning. Still the same tiny, black-shelled egg, sitting so patiently and unassuming in its little nest. Despite this, a sense of giddy affection draws a smile to his face as his hand comes to rest on its body. Malleus is warm, as he often is, and for a moment Raverne imagines he can feel his son moving around from within. 

“You seem troubled.” Meleanor’s voice disrupts his thoughts as he looks back at her. She’s shifted in her seat to face him more directly as she folds the letter to set it inside an envelope. The critical look in her eye tells him that brushing his worries aside would be a frivolous action. 

He looks back to Malleus and clears his throat. “A guard brought me the most recent avisa.” 

Before he has a chance to continue, a barking laugh escapes from his wife as she tosses the sealed letter onto the vanity. “Oh, that. By the gods, did you read what they wrote this time? ‘Oh, the fae are trying to drive us to extinction! They are raiding our villages and lands!’ as if we did not gift them those very villages and lands to begin with.” 

“Now, now, my love, those are perfectly reasonable anxieties to have. The tensions in the surrounding areas have been mounting and the discrimination between species has begun to grow out of control. As it stands, there are no ‘right’ and ‘wrong’ sides.” 

Raverne tries to keep his tone placating as he points this out. This is one topic that he and Meleanor continue to have their disagreements with. Where he tries continually to see from the human perspective, Meleanor is more focused on the actions occurring against the fae and Briar Nation itself. Neither of them is wrong in their approach and they both know this, which is how they can have these conversations, but it can still create tension. 

“Ah, and the wondrous praise they wrote about my mother, our son, and myself? They even made sure to include you and Lilia as well in the onslaught. They called me evil incarnate, you a passive doormat, and Lilia an unleashed dog.” She presses a hand to her chest with a smile. “Frankly, I liked the Mistress of Evil title the other loudmouth granted me, but I shall concur.” 

He grimaces as he withdraws his hand from Malleus. The opinion piece had titled his son as a failure yet to be hatched, which had also felt like a personal strike to his heart. He doesn’t reply to Meleanor’s words as his mind becomes focused on the consequences the avisa will bring. Its propaganda, plain and simple, and certainly not propaganda that the monarchy put out, which means the interlopers have already bought off a portion of the scribes. 

“Raverne.” Meleanor’s voice murmurs right by his ear, startling him for a moment as he feels her arms come around his waist and her chin rest on his shoulder. His body relaxes beneath the familiarity of her touch, her scent, her presence. His hand comes up to rest on her arm as his thumb caresses her wrist. “Erase these troubled thoughts from your mind. The courtiers are already on the case in frenzy. Any insult to our family is a direct hit to their pride and status; it will not take long for them to weed out who did this.”

“I still do not like reading about my wife and my son being slandered in public media. The representations of you are completely inaccurate. Heartless, cruel. Although you may be strong-willed at times, I of all people know you have good intentions, and you are kind, and so worthy of adoration, and yet…” He purses his lips in frustration. Meleanor laughs at his obvious dissatisfaction as she presses a kiss to his cheek. 

“My dearest knight, off to defend my honour? I am quite capable of doing so myself, although I do admit it warms my heart to see you get so riled on my behalf.” He turns his head to allow a brief kiss before she withdraws to return to the vanity. “Truly, though. I am not bothered, mother is certainly not bothered, and Lilia was nearly pissing himself laughing while reading it all. And Malleus… well. All he knows is what his beloved parents say in his presence, so this is certainly not a topic to be having, no?” 

She gives him a look that he’s come to know quite well—a drop it look. He remains tight lipped for a moment longer before his shoulders slump and he gives a slow exhale of resignation. 

“Fine. You are correct in your belief that the courtiers will certainly clean up the mess. As you said, any insult to their pride is enough to drive them to action for once.” He raises a hand to touch the eggshell once more as he smiles lightly. “Look what you have to look forward to, my love.” 

Malleus, as usual, offers no response, though the comment does draw an amused hum from his wife. “If Malleus is anything like me, he will be able to handle it just fine.” 

He glances at Meleanor with a wince. “Pity to our courtiers, then.”

She smiles with a touch of menace. “Pity, indeed.”   

[unboundprompts]

Random Prompt #83

"I swear to God," Character A groaned, throwing their head back," I'm going to drop out of college and run away to join the circus."

"You don't have enough talent to join the circus," Character B responded. They mulled the idea over for a moment before humming. "On second thought, actually, they're always looking for clowns."