rebloging so I can always look back and see this masterpiece-
Red Crowned Flight Switching it up from the more complicated paintings with something simple and relaxing. It's nice to let my mind go blank and let the thoughts flow like water~
The fic is here! ✨
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.
Meanwhile Bruce, jaw hanging, aghast, frantically trying to keep his hellions from meeting Jonng and Kitty while also trying to figure out how to meet them himself-
Johnny 13 and Kitty are from Gotham.
(I Cannot for the life of me find the post that gave me this idea. It was one throwaway line of Ember telling Danny that Johnny 13 used to babysit some kid named Bruce. It was also dpxdc.)
So Johnny 13 was a member of the mob, working for the Waynes. (Thomas and Martha were rich people in Gotham of course they did organized crime)
Johnny gets tasked with babysitting baby Bruce, but always brings his girlfriend Kitty with him. They would be the kind of babysitters that just set the kid up in front of a TV and make out on the couch.
Bruce would just be sat watching The Gray Ghost. Bruce would like them because he would be allowed free access to binge his favorite show.
I see I was not alone in my thought process that Danny could be Elsa. The extra add-ons with Tim and Damian, mwah *Chefs kiss*
Listen. I need you to imagine this: Tim and Danny as the chaotic Anna and Elsa of the DC Universe. Because brainrot. Let’s go:
————
Danny? ICE CORE. WHITE HAIR. Ghost powers he didn’t ask for? Absolutely. Dude pulls an Elsa-level isolation arc, locking himself away in the Ghost Zone like, “I’m dangerous! Stay away!” Meanwhile, Tim’s just standing there, pounding on the portal like:
Tim: “DANNY, OPEN THIS PORTAL OR I SWEAR TO EVERY ANCIENT SPIRIT—”
Danny: phasing through the wall “Tim, leave.”
Tim: “DO YOU WANNA BUILD A WEAPONIZED SNOWMAN?!”
————
Tim? Pure, unfiltered, chaos-goblin-Anna energy. This man will not be stopped. Danny’s trying to brood? Too bad. Tim’s already there with a 40-step plan to drag him back to reality.
• Danny: accidentally freezes half of Amity Park
• Tim, covered in ice but unfazed: “So, anyway, we’re going out for coffee.”
• Danny: “Tim, I can’t—”
• Tim: “NOT. A. REQUEST.”
————
The Batfam? Losing their collective minds.
• Bruce: “Who turned the Batcave into a snow globe?”
• Tim: building a snow fort “Team-building exercise.”
• Jason: “Why is the Replacement singing ‘Let It Go’ like he’s on Broadway?”
• Damian: deadpan “He has lost control of his life.”
————
Meanwhile, Danny’s trying to deal with ghost stuff quietly, but Tim? Not a chance.
• Danny: mid-battle with ghostly chaos
• Tim: kicking down a door he didn’t need to kick down “HEY, BRO, NEED BACKUP?”
• Danny: “I HAD THIS UNDER CONTROL!”
• Tim: “AND I’M HERE TO UN-CONTROL IT!”
————
Then, there’s the inevitable ice-breakdown™️ moment. Danny, tears in his eyes, freezing everything, trying to protect everyone from himself. And Tim? Unmoved. Standing there in the middle of a blizzard like:
• Danny: “I DON’T WANT TO HURT YOU!”
• Tim: “I’LL TAKE MY CHANCES.”
————
Jazz? She’s just over here trying to be the responsible one.
• Jazz: “You two need therapy.”
• Tim: “I HAVE A MISSION.”
• Danny: “I’M LITERALLY DEAD.”
————
Oh, and Damian? He’s the terrifying version of Olaf.
• Damian, following Danny around: “Can you make sentient snow golems to fight enemies?”
• Danny: “That’s not how it works.”
• Damian: “Weak.”
————
Jason? He’s the sarcastic Sven equivalent, muttering from the sidelines, “Is this a twin thing? This feels like a twin thing.”
————
TL;DR: Tim refuses to let Danny have his broody Ghost Zone isolation arc, Danny’s one meltdown away from turning Gotham into the next Ice Age, and the Batfam is scared but too confused to ask questions.
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
I absolutely need to know what happens after this. Like, hello? How does the Justice League react to this?
Broke college student but also the Ghost King Danny looking at the stack of complaint forms in his inbox about people cheating death. In a stroke of sleep deprived inspiration, he issues a royal decree that anyone who has properly died before (I.e biologically dead, not just clinically dead) is still a citizen of the Infinite Realms, even if they were resurrected. And have to pay income tax to the Crown.
He establishes the Infinite Realms Revenue Service, recruits the ghosts of some meticulous accountants and sends them after all the assholes who think they can escape Death and Taxes. Starting with the worst offenders (ie those who have escaped death the longest/most often). Your tax bracket scales with how many times you died.
Just picture Ra's al-Ghul, in the middle of giving some speech to his assassin cult when this Phil Coulson looking ghost dude shows up behind him to "discuss the back taxes he owes to the Crown".
Every magic user worth their salt is suddenly swamped with messages from panicked villains and heroes who are trying to figure out wtf is going on and how to get out of this. Constantine is sweating bullets.
Danny hires Valerie to do mortal side "casework", because a, she's just as saddled with student debt as he is b, has worked fast food and knows how to handle asshole customers c, doesn't take shit from anybody.
Imagine Vandal Savage, Felix Faust and Red Hood awkwardly sitting in a waiting room with a stack of documents each, ready for their number to be called so they can dispute their claims. Being called in and utterly flummoxed at the unflappable, bored young woman at the desk who somehow has files on everything about you - birth record, death record(s), who you killed and when records... now declare your income as a crime lord/dictator/sorcerer, sir.
Meanwhile Danny is planning on how he can allocate the taxes to open a soup kitchen for Lunch Lady to work at and similar shit. He is determined to be a good king, dammit!
reblogging because, yesss
Actually writing something based off of this post. Y'all really seemed to like it and I got scared LOLOL
(How it will probably go (written poorly written cause it's almost 7AM and I haven't slept yet) . Also I have no idea what I'm doing. This will be rewritten better in a fic maybe.)
Jason sighed as he made his way into Gotham University's gym. It was the middle of the day and Jason was there at a Startup Event posing as a guy who was interested in what people had to offer. He had only had maybe a total of four hours of sleep since he had patrol the night before. Granted, this wouldn't have affected him as much if he was more mentally prepared to be awake. The only reason why he's out here was because Bruce had woken him up an hour ago to tell him a little last minute about what he needed to do today. Originally, the plan was to do absolutely nothing. But now he has to investigate a guy that Bruce had his eye on as of lately.
The person he's looking for is a man named Danny Nightingale. Apparently he's been in Gotham for a couple years and only recently started making a mess of things. How it went under Bruce's nose is beyond him considering how freaked out Bruce was once he did find out.
Apparently, the guy has been making life changing machines. Little mechanical bees have been flying around Gotham really just sucking up all the pollution in the air and just depositing it somewhere. According to the media, they go back to some headquarters and into a bee hive looking structure to deposit all the pollution and sludge. From the photos shown, it's actually pretty impressive. Some guy actually making a change around here.
For Bruce- no. For Batman, this is just highly suspicious. Why would some guy make these positive life changing machines? For the better? No. No genius with the power to change the world would do it for the better. There's got to be some ulterior motive behind it.
At least, that's what Batman thinks.
Jason thinks it's all interesting. Maybe there is an ulterior motive but even then, at a scale so large that it's literally affecting the city in a positive way? You've got to be literally more insane than the Joker if you wanted to plaster your face everywhere at an event like this. Everyone else at this event seemed to show promise but compared to Danny Nightingale's company? They're literally all small fry.
Surprisingly enough, however, no one else seems to be at Danny's booth. Not even Danny. Jason frowned as he approached the booth and just looked at the machines on them. The Bees are kind of just flying in place and the moment that Jason even looked at them, the Bees immediately got to work. They flew around him like a puppy with wings, nuzzling against him and bumping into him so dumbly. And honestly?
It was actually kind of cute. You would think that being on such little hours of sleep and being grumpy the whole morning would really affect the pits inside him but no. He's surprisingly calm.
"Oh my gosh, I am so sorry! They don't usually act like this," a voice stuttered out. A man hastily walked towards Jason as he gently plucked the Bees out of the air and brought it close to him.
"Uh, don't worry about it. I thought it was kind of..." Jason trailed out before locking eyes with the man who spoke.
This was Danny Nightingale. He was much shorter than Jason, only standing tall at 5' 5". His hair was fully black with only a white money piece right on his bangs. And his eyes? An alluring blue with only a hint of green at the center of his eyes. Honestly, the sight of Danny just about took Jason's breath away.
There was a subtle glow to him, almost making Jason think of there being some sort of meta activity going on but looking around the people in the area, no one but him seems to notice. Danny was concerned about Jason, that much is obvious. The way his eyes burrowed in concern then into confusion. It's strange why just looking at him made Jason's heart skip a beat, even though in hindsight, Danny looks much worse off than Jason.
That man looks like he hasn't slept in 3 weeks. But even then he was...
"Cute..." Jason finally finished his sentence a little too late.
Danny blinked in confusion, tilting his head to the side. His bangs fall freely over his eyes. Just the sight of that almost made Jason blush. "My bees were cute?" Danny spoke, the tone of his voice (very tired) sounded like a sweet harmony in Jason's ears. "Oh! You're interested in Nightech? No one else seems to be interested in my stuff yet. I can tell you all about this company and how it works? I put in a lot of work and love into these little guys and I'm sure you would love them too!"
Blah blah blah. Proper name. Place name. Backstory stuff.
Nothing of what Danny is saying is registering in Jason's brain right now. Maybe some. ("I... Love... You...")
"I love you too!!" Jason blurted out.
Danny blinked before widening his eyes. "Wh-What...?" There was that look of concern again but now there's another look. Recognition...
Whatever. None of that right now. This is embarrassing!
"I-I said I love your company. Uh. Do you have a business card? I can let Bruce Wayne know about this."
Wordlessly, Danny gave an information card to Jason before that poor brick of a man just ran out of there, not once even looking back. Honestly, from the way it's playing out in Jason's head right now, he feels like a princess running away from her prince at the stroke of midnight. The earpiece crackled before a voice started to speak.
"Jason? What the hell was that?" Bruce's voice questioned.
It was only when Jason left the gymnasium that he answered, "Me digging my own grave for the second time, old man. Let me go die in peace."
"No, no," Dick's voice chimed in, "Only after we replay that very short conversation about 50,000 times. Thank you very much."
Jason only groaned in response.
Danny, back in the gymnasium, only stared at the door that Jason left from in horror. The only way for people to react that way to him like that is for them to be dead or liminal. Now he has to figure out a way to tell Bruce Wayne that this person that he seems to know is a little bit dead!
This actually is a part of whatever the fuck I'm writing. I'm still thinking of a fic name. But all of the random posts go together in some way.
Danny, appearing out of nowhere: Hi!
Danny, reaching into Jason's chest and pulling out a misshapen, disgusting blob of dark green goo: You've got a spare part you don't need there, buddy.
Danny, molding the goo into a different shape with his bare hands, throwing the darker parts away: And, you know what they say, sharing is caring, so.
Danny, holding up the pure green and slightly glowing blob that is not melting or looking sick anymore: Here you have it, an entirely new spleen, fresh baked and up for grabs!
Danny, shoving said spleen inside Tim: Since you're missing one, you get to have it for free, no returns, you're welcome.
Danny, fading from view with a two-fingered salute: There, puzzle solved, everyone have a great day, bye!
Jason, whose Pit Rage is gone:
Tim, who has a new organ now:
Bruce, who, just like everyone else, has absolutely no idea what just happened and who that glowing kid was:
Dick:
Dick, a moment later: Hold the fuck up, when and how did you have a splenectomy, Timothy?!
Excuse me Op, what’s that supposed to mean? 😟 Why is it in quotes? Also, there’s more than one ending? 😥
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?"
found a good one to reblog, but you should definitely check out the other reblogs too. Loving this Au idea, it’s just so much fun! ✨
~
Ghosts gather near the place where something bad is going to happen,
Danny with his ghost sense tends to notice before anyone else and tends to react outwardly before the danger even happens, gaining a reputation of seeing the future,
Ghosts also tell Danny things, causing Danny to know more about situations and the people around him, it comes of as suspicious.
~
Danny pulling away a snack from his coworker: "Careful your allergic to these ingredients!"
Coworker: "How the hell...I've never mentioned that to anyone."
~
Danny on a phone call with his friends while doing his nightly walks in Gotham: "Yeah so apparently the second Robin who is now Red Hood has very personal beef with the clown here cuz he got killed by him after being sold out by his bio mom, which really sucks for the poor guy."
Oracle who has been keeping an Eye on Danny cuz he's very suspicious from an outsiders pov: "Hey B, I think we have a problem."
~
Danny notices that the ghost in Gotham tends to gather where something bad is going to happen, the more they are the worse the situation will be: *glowing smoke leaves from his mouth* "Yikes! Very bad vibes here, nope!"
Gothamites who at this point recognize him and know the drill and quickly pack up their things to leave:
~
Just an Idea
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.