#like the dramatic bitch he is

[weaponizedducks]

if x men and avengers were in the same universe i just know the x men would fucking despise the avengers. the absolute one sided beef they would have with them. 1 because the avengers are all superpowered and shit and ppl love them and meanwhile the x men over there getting hatecrimed for literally existing. like guess who owes trillions of dollars in property damage and citizen casualties. not the x men bitch!!

2 because the x men fucking love having beef

[mamawasatesttube]

the whole "jason rules crime alley and none of the other bats are allowed there!!1!" thing is so funny like. tim LITERALLY lives in the theater where bruce's parents died,

[confessedlyfannish]

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!"

[ayamari-no-goshi]

I’d like to clear up some common misconceptions about the Attack on Titan Tower, aka when Jason infiltrated it to attack Tim

If you want to read this for yourself, here are some links: readallcomics - I have the best luck with this site on destop zipcomic readcomicsonline - this site can be temperamental

1) Jason did not go there to attempt to kill Tim

Jason seems to have 3 separate goals for this: - size up the new kid. - make sure he knows Bruce just sees him as another soldier - prove to Tim just how dangerous the job is (heavily implied, in my opinion, especially after Tim tried telling Jason he was wrong about how Bruce saw him) He also voiced his anger over being forgotten by everyone. Depending on your interpretation of Jason and his character, this could also be a reason. To me, this feels more like an afterthought because they moved to the Hall of Fallen Heroes before he said this, and Jason likes to be dramatic.

Side note on this. Jason never says anything about being replaced.

2) none of Tim’s injuries were life threatening

Once again, Jason was not attempting to kill him. He beat him up pretty badly, but it was designed to prove a point

3) Jason did NOT cut Tim’s throat.

That happened during Hush which predates both Under the Red Hood and Titan’s Tower. Jason was pretending to be Hush, put a knife to Tim’s throat, and put enough pressure to make him bleed (it was not an actual slice) to get Bruce to react to him. That injury was not life threatening either

4) Jason developed a respect and a bit of envy for Tim after fighting him

At the end of the issue while he’s leaving (while outside the tower), Jason acknowledges Tim’s skill. Jason also wonders if he could have had a life more similar to his, where he had friends and a better support system, if he could have had a different life.

5) Tim was NOT a damsel in distress during the fight, and he did NOT develop a fear of Jason.

Tim was making quips and dissing Jason the entire fight. Tim was not afraid of him nor did he bat an eye at being attacked by Jason. He also vocalized just how much he had to work for his cape because of how Jason's death affected Bruce

Also, the next time Tim saw Jason after this, he made sure to kick Jason in the groin

6) Jason wrote "Jason Todd was here" and signed it with a hand print on the wall.

It looks like it could be in blood, but Tim's not injured enough for there to be that much... and blood darkens after a while. There's a bit of time between Tim getting knocked out and the rest of the Titans finding him and the writing so it's probably paint. Again, Jason likes to be dramatic

7) more Robin!Jason slander by Raven

Once again, we get the mention that Jason was "aggressive". I swear, this is the only thing writers remember from Death in the Family and not the point that that behavior was out of the ordinary for Jason. This is a personal pet peeve of mine in the comics.

8) almost forgot to add the most important part, Jason made a homemade Robin costume and wore it under his Red Hood outfit because he could

Again, Jason is a dramatic bitch.

[a-multifandom-mess12]

Them <3

[danandfuckingjonlmao]

atp phil’s like “ffs i wish i could hit you with a car then i wouldn’t have to be stuck with your annoying dramatic ass 🙄”

[airocats]

[jetkast]

Sometimes I think about how Jin Ling goes by that instead of Jin Rulan and I just vividly picture his young mistress persona going like "yeah my not uncle was an unaware pining cut sleeve and my mom kind of just enabled it so... juijui and I just try to pretend it didn't happen -- it's cringe af" and I die a little in both grief and hilarity

[evansbby]

𝐰𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝟒 𝐪𝐮𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 + 𝙫𝙞𝙨𝙪𝙖𝙡𝙨

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Vine_Boom.mp3

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[lexosaurus]

So here's a question I've been wondering:

In the Danny Phantom canon we accept that ectoplasm is green, and it's shown to be green in liquid and gaseous forms. With this piece of information in place, then why in the following state of matter, plasma, does it turn pink?

[grandwretch]

i do think peak comedy is a steve who is absolutely aware of the effect he has on people, but has never felt that way towards anyone else-- the closest he got was with nancy and robin, because he loved them both in different ways, and sometimes he felt like he was going to go insane if he didn't talk to them or touch them right now, but it was never like he had seen other people act about him. robin and nancy made him a better person. they didn't drive him to ridiculous levels of violence and obsession. maybe people in hawkins were just fucking weird.

and then he meets eddie, falls in love with eddie, and he's like... yeah, okay. alright. no, i get it. if anything happened to this guy i would steal the nuclear launch codes.

[thegurlwhoisntthere]

I’ve seen a lot of posts about the Waynes being the dc equivalent of the Kardashians, and while I can see that, I think it’s very important to remember the reason we all know so much about the kardashians is because they have a reality tv show about them that’s been running for, like, ten years, or something.

I feel like with the lack of a reality show, most of America and maybe beyond would know Brucie Wayne and that he has a lot of kids. Maybe some people would call them the Gotham Version of the Kardashians, but maybe most people wouldn’t know a lot about the kids (names, faces, how many of them there are, etc.) because other than maybe Dick and Tim, I don’t see any of them doing something that anyone outside of Gotham would care to report on (they don’t leave Gotham publicly often and people outside Gotham don’t want to think about what goes on in that hellhole).

Inside of Gotham, however, is an entirely different story. Inside Gotham, everyone can name the Waynes and point them out on sight, even Steph gets recognized sometimes, though less than the officially adopted kids. Inside Gotham, there’s an article for literally everything they do, even if some of them try so incredibly hard to be private people (and they kinda succeed, but Gotham thinks they don’t). Every paper in Gotham has some mention of them, even if it’s just a name drop, because they are just so involved in the city and there are just so many of them. Most people have seen a Wayne in person, if not personally interacted with them. Unlike other cities with their rich people, Gotham loves them. They defend their rich people and they Gatekeep the hell out of them.

Thank you for coming to my dc talk

[oceanwithouthermoon]

maybe its just me but i cant stand when people are like "it just doesn't sit right with me how teruhashi thought about aiura 🥺" like yes... its not supposed to ??? because her thinking badly of other girls and prioritizing male validation over everything is one of her main flaws ??? can we talk about that WITHOUT making it seem like shes not allowed to have a single actual flaw without suddenly becoming an awful person? nobody can handle complex female characters at all and its so fucking annoying

[sciderman]

[kelin-is-writing]

Sorry, but I can’t stop think about this right here…