Please, Someone Help Me. I Am Invested. I Desire To Write This, But I Don’t Know Enough About The Lore

help, how is the art this pretty-

Pressed Flower Wings~

Spring is here and everything is blooming around me. I just wanna paint flowers everyday

Constantine finds this hilarious, and also has some unresolved frustrations toward the Bat. Since he knows perfectly well that both Danny and Tim are fine, he decides to get some payback and take his sweet ass time in Hell-

DCxDP AU with the typical cultists summon the ghost king stuff, except the spell is supposed to trap him in a mortal body till he agrees to do the cult's bidding.

Danny is obviously not going to just do what they say, he will find his own way out of this body he is trapped in, thank you very much.

After escaping he is found by the police and identified as Tim Drake, which okay didn't expect the human sacrifice to be a famous guy, but whatever. All he has to do is pretend to be Tim for a few days while he figures out how to break the spell. Easy, Bruce Wayne is famously stupid right?

Of course the bat family had been listening in to the cult's summoning the whole time from a communicator Tim activated right before he was captured, so they are very very aware this is not Tim.

They can't say anything though because they have no idea what powers the ghost king has or how to get him out of Tim's body. It is determined that the best solution is to play along till they have a plan so the ghost doesn't run off with Tim's body or hurt him in some way.

Thus begins a game of lies. Danny, fake it till you make it, Fenton, pretends to be Tim with only the info available on his Wikipedia page. The bats pretend to not notice anything is wrong.

Danny can't investigate how to break the spell because no one will leave him alone for any length of time. The bats are struggling to figure out how to get the ghost king out of Tim when all their magic users are saying the guy is basically all powerful.

No one is happy about any part of this.

Meanwhile Tim is playing a 5D chess version of psychological warfare on Danny while stuck inside his own head. Danny is just like, 'please have mercy I am trying to get us both out of this safely.' Tim is like, 'anyway here's wonderwall for the 40th time today.'

Finally finished 😭 Timelapse at the bottom! I had an idea for my Wings of Pages series, where instead of text, it's a book full of botanical illustrations. The majority of the time was spent on the individual flowers for each feather/page of the wings. I really love the look of old botanical books with the water color paintings and the scientific names written in cursive. So I spent way too many hours painting out 20 of these flower pages, and even then, it wasn't enough for the wings so I did have to duplicate some.

Here are the 20 flowers! The HD image of Atlas Botanicus, and all 20 HD flower studies without watermark will be DMed on Patreon.com/Yuumei on May 5th, along with the hours long video recording of how I painted everything.

My first time running across a totcf post, and holy heck, is this one such a doozy. I love it, the angst the drama, the fact that even when he does tell people the truth, it’s too late to undo his newly acquired sainthood- just, chef’s kiss.

Rok Soo's ability isn't Instant AU

Instead of being able to, very briefly and painfully, fuck with time; he got an ability based on all the absolute bullshit that's happened to him.

From the childhood, to his friends dying in front of him. All the shitty rumors that sprouted up, all the shit luck, all of it. Just, all of it.

So instead of Instant, he got Lament.

Lament is a scream capable of leveling buildings, at the cost of absolutely shredding Rok Soo's throat.

As a result of that power, Rok Soo doesn't talk often, and when he does his voice is hoarse and pained. He also refuses to speak at full volume, because while he's got a handle on his power, he's paranoid that he'll slip up.

So when he transfers over to the body of Cale, people notice.

The Young Master went to bed his usual talkative self, but when he woke up?

Barely a word, and when he did speak, a whisper.

Cale barely speaks a word to Ron beyond the single syllable required. Barely bothers to acknowledge Deruth. Relies on hand-speak and notes to talk to merchants.

Deruth is going crazy trying to figure out what the hell happened to his son, Ron is very close behind him because what the hell got past him? He's Ron Fucking Molan.

Then Cale comes home with a bedraggled punk that smells like the trash the killed Ron's family, and Ron has to listen in astonishment as he says more to this jackass than he's said to Ron in a week.

Basically; Cale's power of Lament is so strong and painful that everything Cale is paranoid of letting it slip, that he's selectively mute. This causes many misunderstandings, in true Cale fashion.

Guys, pls, someone write this. I didn’t know I needed this in my life, but now I’m desperate. The chaos! The world cannot handle that many Danny/Dani’s and I need to see it!

DPxDC crack prompt

All of the clones in the DCU are Danny and Dani.

They're immortal protector spirits, and clockwork has informed them of a dimension that is barely holding itself together. With all the multiversal threats, godlike beings vying for dominance, magical and demonic powers constantly at war, and idiot speedsters constantly screwing with the timeline, its a miracle that this reality hasnt already completely collapsed their corner of the metaverse.

This reality also has a lot of fruitloops playing god with cloning technology. Danny and dani come up with a plan: they're going to reincarnate as each and every last clone in this reality. At the end of each life they live, clockwork will pull them backward or forward in time as needed to reincarnate into the next clone. Yes, that means there are multiple reincarnations of danny and dani running around simultaneously. The siblings retain full memories, too.

Maybe they restrict themselves to clones that are programmed with no personality or to behave like robots (dont have unique souls) so we can still keep the likes of Kon or any other clone characters we want to leave unchanged.

Point is, everyone in the DCU has come to the conclusion that there is some sort of intrinsic universal law that the majority of clones, no matter who was cloned, will be requisitioned to some vast eldritch hivemind.

However, nobody figured that out until after several thousand clones had been created and a pattern of them waking up and immediately beating the crap out of their evil creators (the rare-but-not-nonexistant ambivalent/benevolent creators tended to get a free pass), getting in contact with another clone like they had their identities already memorized and set themselves up with (very professionally made) forged identities as random members of society. Some clones had even been rescued by other clones that should have had no clue to their existence, having been created by different underground organizations in separate hidden labs.

At least the hiveminded clones appear to be chaotic-good aligned, even if their constant meddling of justice league affairs is quite annoying.

Just the shanigans that are possible.

Batfam nervous cause they havent heard about anything regarding the league of assassins in months, only to find out that they've been overrun by damian clones that talia created to fight damian. They collectively went 'yeah, no' and yeeted ra's and talia into low orbit.

Cadmus creating an entire society of genetically modified clone-monster-slaves? They reach a critical threshold population, turn on the cadmus staff as one and devour them.

Tim tries to clone Kon and succeeds - only for said clone to slap him in the face and give him mandatory therapy.

continuation from a separate post thread (Danny is Bruce’s clone). Op said the old post got too long, so they made a new one. Had to share the new story. ☺️

Clone Danny long post

The footprints lead Alfred out of the room and to the right but quickly dried up on the short hair carpet.

Alfred checked every room to the right of Danny's. He had to have left the family wing. 40 minutes of searching later, Alfred was about to go down yet another hallway when he heard faint music and metal clanging. He walked closer to the sound until he could make out some words.

🎶I- can hear the sound of violins🎶

🎶long before- it begins🎶

The gym. Someone is at the gym. He told Dick to relax. This is the opposite of relaxing. He stops for a moment outside the door to gather himself. People listen to empathy more than anger. When Alfred pushed the door open and looked down at the workout area, he didn't see a disobedient clown. No. Instead, he was forcibly dragged back to 1989, staring at a 13 year old Bruce doing chest presses. He always looked the most at ease when he was at the gym. The rest of the time, he would be looking for his parents' killer or discovering seacret organizations. Alfred used to cherish the time Bruce spent at the gym because he knew it was the closest he could get to calm. Shortly, Danny put down his 3 kg weights and addressed Alfred.

"Morning, Alfred. Breakfast already? Thought I had more time." He sounded like Bruce, more than just his voice. Danny had his own way of talking, but this was all Bruce.

"Young Master," best not to object to his perceived reality, whatever that may be. "It's almost seven in the afternoon, not morning." The sun would have spoiled that for him anyway. "And dinner will be ready in two hours."

"Oh, ok. I'll be there at nine then." Danny simply went over to the next station in his routine. Right as he sat down on the floor, something seemed to dawn on him. "Alfred? Did something happen to me?" He asked innocently.

Alfred remained frozen, staring at the young boy. "What would give you that idea?"

"I woke up in a different room than usual, I had to switch down all my weights, and the files in my father's office have been moved. And then you came in looking like you've seen a ghost." Ever the detective.

"Nothing gets past you. I'm afraid you had a rather bad fever and spent a few days in bed. I would like to examine your health, but it can wait. Let's say, eight-thirty? Before dinner?"

"Kitchen at eight-thirty, got it."

Alfred left the room and braced himself on the door. He thinks he's Bruce. He probably thinks it's the 80s or 90s, too. It's a good thing most everyone is out hunting down clues and/or committing extreme acts of violence.

Danny had changed into an all black suit (bowtie and kerchief included) before coming to the kitchen at 8:27. Hmm, he does like to be punctual. His temperature and heart rate were normal, for once he didn't have bags under his eyes, which responded in time to light. But, he was definitely younger than he was when he arrived. Dick wasn't imagining that.

"Can you tell me your name, age, and today's date?"

"Bruce Thomas Wayne, 12, almost 13, today is November, uh," He struggled a bit. "17th? Maybe a bit later, 1988." He avoided eye contact. "Just so we're clear, I wouldn't have known today's date even if I hadn't been sick."

Alfred smiled a little, remembering how much he used to care about getting good scores on everything. "I'll be sure to include that in the report." He retorted sarcastically, earning a small grin back. "Now go wash up, dinners almost ready."

As per routine, Alfred started by bringing out the helthiest dishes. They all knew it was a trick to get them to eat vegetables, but no one was ever willing to wait. Danny was so hungry, even the brussel sprouts were appetizing. Now if Alfred could just stop staring at him and actually put the container on the table.

"Alfred?"

"W, what?"

"Are you OK?"

Danny had combed his hair when he'd asked him to wash up. This was Bruce. This was the boy Alfred raised. The one who had fallen asleep in his arms every night for months because he refused to be alone in the dark. The one who used to "forget" to tell Alfred about the handfuls of peanut butter in his pockets, ruining thousand dollars dress pants on six different occasions. The one who wanted to keep street cats knowing full well he was allergic.

"Do you need a day off? Or maybe a week?"

"What? No. I'm alright master Bruce. Just, uhm, glad to see you have your appetite back. That's all." Keep it together now. He set down a steaming glass dish full of baked carrots, sweet potatoes, bell peppers, onions, brussel sprouts, broccoli, cauliflower, and mushrooms.

Danny took as big a serving as he could fit (vegetables can only go in the top right on his plate), making sure not to let the butter run too much. The next dish was steamed turnip. Crap. Another vegetable. Can't mix them. Can't put it somewhere else. The only option is to finish the baked vegetables fast.

By the time he finished his quarter of a turnip, six more dishes had already shown up. How many people does Alfred think live here?

At 21:11 Dick walked into the dining room. Dressed in a plain shirt and pants. The two boys looked like they were going to entirely different events.

"Hello." Danny invited. "I'm sorry, have we met?"

"This gentleman is detective Richard Grayson." Alfred interjected. "Master Dick, would you care to join us for dinner?"

"Oh, where are my manners? Here, have a seat. There's plenty of food."

The dinner after that was awkward, but nice. It's good to have some company once in a while. Ever since his parents died, it's just been him and Alfred.

He did wake up late in the afternoon, so it shouldn't be such a surprise that he got to stay up and watch his gray ghost VHS tapes way later than his usual bedtime. Only interrupted occasionally by Alfred, making sure he's keeping all that food down. He had to have been really sick. He doesn't even remember throwing up recently.

He must have dosed off at some point because he was awoken abruptly at some horrid hour of the night by an ear pierceing scream. He hurried to its sorce in the family wing where he saw what looked like another Bruce, except this one had white hair and wore a black onesie. He appeared to be melting into a glowing green sludge. Bruce knelt down and grabbed the boy, who stopped screaming. Opting to bury his face in Bruce's chest instead.

Alfred came just as the gruesome scene was over. 4:50 am, same place, same time, every night. Alfred had hoped something had improved when the screaming stopped early. But rather than the typical gorey mess, there was Danny, inconsolable and covered in slime.

"Wh, wh, ah?" Who was that? What was that?? Why was that???

"Master da- Bruce." At lightning speed, Alfred was on his knees and holding Danny. "Come on, you don't have to be here." He tried to lift him up, but Danny resisted.

"...Why do you have the carpet cleaner?" He accused. "Did you know this would happen?"

Enemy to Parent; John Constantine and Dan edition.

Dan, after getting a clone human body to call his own and stabilize him, makes it a point to antagonize the Laughing Magician.

Not in a way to like, actually hurt the man. He's not out to get in trouble with his twerpier half again.

Just to inconvenience and fuck with the man.

It may or may not be pent up aggression regarding just how annoying John Constantine was to deal with when Dan razed the world. Sure, he's not out to do that anymore, but the sight of Constantine's face is enough to make feelings of pure resentment and pettiness swell in his chest.

It's all fun and games until one day, on his way to go fuck with the Hellblazer, Dan ends up needing to do a sacrifice play so Danny can escape, and gets caught by the GIW.

~~~~~~

John Constantine has had an Infinite Realms thorn in his side for literal months, so when the thorn doesn't show up for a couple of days, he...gets concerned.

He looks up how to summon an Infinite Realms ghost.

Just to make sure the little shit is okay.

Jason just staring in confusion like: how tf did you know???

Danny, wearing ripped muddy clothes, having just dug himself out of his grave at 6 28 in the god damn morning: Hey, can I use your shower?

Jason, holding open his front door having just gotten back from patrols and was about to go the fuck to bed when some guy knocked on his door to ask for a shower: uhhh…?

itty bitty danger noodles

Green green green. Nothing but an endless sea of green. No haunts, no islands, no portals. Nothing except for the lonely ghost boy filled with regret. Not from what he did. Danny had no choice but to destroy the portal. And even if he had known the shock wave would blast him to this unknown part of the zone, he'd still do it. No, this regret was from so much more. It was from not saying 'I love you' one last time. It was from not savoring his youth. It was from fixing that stupid portal. So, so much regret. And an eternity of green to stew in it.

...

........

Wait. What's that? Is that... a portal?

Yes! It is!

A natural portal spawning before his very eyes only a few feet away. Danny would have wept if he hadn't exhausted his tear ducts long ago. Instead he drifts over to the portal, stopping just before he enters it. He's filled with hesitation. Natural portals are unpredictable. It could spit him out into an acid pit or in the middle of a war. There wasn't even a guarantee he would land in his own dimension. But... wasn't it better than here? Wasn't whatever was through this portal better than the green infinity he was currently trapped in, no matter how unpredictable?

Danny took a deep breath. And then another. Screw it. He plunged himself into the portal, embracing whatever chaos that would receive him from this unending sea of green.