#Tales From the Dark Side

[whitecappslll]

[alicenpai]

the girl from the other side ✨ this series gave me hope a million times but simultaneously shattered my heart into the same amount of pieces </3 (flower symbolism under cut)

sticker sheet for anime north 🍀🥧🖤🤍

SPOILERS AHEAD

forget me not - obvious reference to the Black Children and how they eventually forget who they are as they near the end of their "life cycle".

white clover (in coffin) - white clovers typically symbolize innocence.

4 leaf clover - like I wrote in a previous post on my Witch Hat Atelier seasons piece, the 4 leaf clover symbolizes luck and good fortune. Like Coco, Shiva to her loved ones is a symbol of fortune, though to the Inside Kingdom, a symbol of misfortune.

sunflower - typically symbolize strength and warmth, a fitting flower for Shiva, the light illuminating Teacher's dark past.

nasturtium - another flower symbolizing strength, and has strong ties to the "victory" after battle. apparently soldiers used to don them as a sign of a long battle won. fun fact they are also edible (don't take my post for nutritional advice please) (ill probably write a bit more on this topic when my head is more clear)

[vertigoartgore]

1999's Star Wars Tales Vol.1 #1 cover by cover artist Igor Kordey.

[mokeonn]

I think that the 2010's media landscape of Buzzfeed articles about plotholes in disney movies, Cinemasins critiques, and Watchmojo Top Ten scenes in movies that make no sense has truely ruined a lot of media. People are afraid that their work will be torn down if they dare leave a single thing up in the air, if they dare ask their audience to suspend their disbelief.

All too often nowadays I see stories (especially fantasy), take the time to explain how every small aspect of the world works and how it all logically makes sense. The constant time stopped to explain why an event happened, how this object works, or why this is important to the characters. It's just really not needed and it honestly makes a lot of stories worse.

I am of the opinion that the best stories truly just drop you into their world and explain nothing. They just take you through the story of this world and you just have to accept it and continue on. "When he became king, the land became barren." I don't want the story to stop and explain why this is, or how it happened, I want us to move on so we can just assume that the king has such rancid vibes that everything died.

[mortifry]

Not very many people live long enough to tell the tale of how they’ve come face-to-face with the Grimm Reaper. No, nobody ever gets a chance to talk about just how devilishly handsome he looks right before he ends their lives, nor do they get to tell anybody about how he favors the old pistol hidden in his well-worn, brown leather jacket, rather than a scythe. Nobody ever gets that second wind on him—nobody ever gets a chance to fight for their life.

Sure, there are stories about him that float around in an endless game of telephone—rumors that could ruin another man’s life, but nobody ever gets the smaller details right. Nobody talks about how he likes his coffee with a pinch of sugar and half a cup of whiskey. Nobody ever mentions how unflattering the color yellow looks on him, even though that’s his go-to. They’d prefer to paint him in black with a halo of gold. Nobody says anything about the photograph of his daughter that lies face down on his desk, covered in a layer of dust for who knows how long. They don’t talk about how his mitch-match eyes pierce through even the darkest rooms, like stars millions of light-years away, and that meeting his gaze makes you feel like you’re farther from home than you’ve ever been.

No, nobody ever gets that close. Nobody ever gets to stay around long enough to see the way he looks when he stares out the huge window in his office as the purple glow from Pandora dances off his hard features, making him look softer and smaller than he’s been made out to be. They don’t see him as he looks past the planet he hopes to conquer—past the people he’d step on just to do it—nobody sees how solemn and empty he looks when he thinks he’s alone.

Perhaps there’s a reason nobody ever gets to see the man under the mask as the person he is, rather than the image he’s made for himself. But for that reason, I will never know.

[dnangelic]

the hollow nonviolence but nevertheless heavily palpable longing and empty vastness of daisuke's heart. post

[mariocki]

Infinite list of favourite lyrics: 229/?

Bobbie Gentry - Ode to Billie Joe (1967)

"And Papa said to Mama, as he passed around the black-eyed peas:

'Well, Billie Joe never had a lick of sense; pass the biscuits, please.

There's five more acres in the lower forty I got to plow'

And Mama said it was a shame about Billie Joe, anyhow.

Seems like nothin' ever comes to no good up on Choctaw Ridge

And now Billie Joe McAllister's jumped off the Tallahatchie Bridge"

[...]

"Mama said to me, 'Child, what's happened to your appetite?

I've been cookin' all morning, and you haven't touched a single bite.

That nice young preacher, Brother Taylor, dropped by today

Said he'd be pleased to have dinner on Sunday - oh, by the way

He said he saw a girl that looked a lot like you up on Choctaw Ridge

And she and Billie Joe was throwin' something off the Tallahatchie Bridge'"

[onigiram]

TAGS. i didn't like the other ones asjbfjbsdjgb

[tales-from-the-frame]

Howl's Moving Castle by Hayao Miyazaki (2004)

[tyrannuspitch]

re: discussion of anti-imperialism in ragnarok: something i think is pretty striking about t3 in contrast to previous thor films (and avengers 2012) is the total absence of the perspective of any victims of asgardian imperialism.

those three films give us a variety of perspectives, including but not limited to:

jane, a human, as a main character and love interest, and thor beginning to overcome his anti-human prejudice as key to his redemption

jotunheim initially depicted as monsters, but then revealed to be victims, and their demonisation to be part of their victimhood

loki as both victim and perpetrator of imperial violence; a stolen child who was groomed to redirect his self-loathing onto others, now doing exactly that

humanity defending against invasion as protagonists and (in the avengers) the majority of the cast

malekith as both victim and perpetrator of imperial violence; a brutally defeated rival of asgard's returning to exact revenge both on asgard and on the universe they were competing to control

and like, these films are definitely not perfect. but there is always at least one major character for whose life asgardian imperialism has ruined or could ruin during the course of the film.

whereas in ragnarok...

the jotuns, the dark elves, and all of asgard's other rivals and victims are absent - except a brief appearance of surtur, who is treated straightforwardly as a dragon to slay.

one human (bruce) is there, but his humanity, iirc, goes basically unremarked upon, and earth is not important.

loki is still there, but his past is brushed under the rug.

hela is a thematic focal point, but, unlikely loki (who she's clearly meant to mirror), she's only a victim of interpersonal abuse, not of imperial violence, because she's just asgardian royalty and nothing else.

valkyrie is a new character who was traumatised by hela's imperialism... but only because she was a soldier of asgard at the time.

like... do you see the void? the whole film is about how asgard's imperial past impacts the royal family and citizens of asgard. we're told ABOUT violence in a distant, almost mythical past, but we don't witness it. we're told to associate that dark past almost exclusively with hela; we're led to exonerate odin as a good king who learnt from his mistakes; we're introduced to val as a warrior from that exact era without the matter of her participation EVER coming up; and we're almost retconned into believing that thor and loki *didn't* participate in asgardian imperialism (outside of loki's villain arcs) even though that's exactly what we saw in thor 1.

the one group of victims we *do* see are the victims of the *grandmaster's* tyranny, a category which includes thor, loki, bruce and val to various extents... but again, isn't that odd? we see asgardians as victims, but we don't see the victims *of asgard*?

i'm not saying this is necessarily Evil or whatever, just poorly thought-out. but still... once you see it, it's a pretty glaring oversight, isn't it?

[timey-fandom-stuff]

... I really gotta stop coming up with wildly ambitious AU ideas.

[alaricseer]

my problem with almost all fae fiction I find, esp the adult or new adult kind, is that it expects me to believe that its 99% straight, cis beings. 

Hey now you might even get a few gays in the sidelines, as a lil treat, but you will have to sit through straight girl love triangle to get that.

[jackklinemybeloved]

if u were to make a character for neverafter what fairy tale would u base it off of????

Oooo this is such a good question. I’m not super familiar with the original source material of a lot of fairy tales and I wasn’t super into the genre as a kid, so I don’t know a ton of characters that I would be really drawn to.

The first thing I thought of when I read this question was the velveteen rabbit? Which I know isn’t a fairy tale, but it was the first children’s story I read as a kid and remember going “oh this is pretty messed up and horrifying and sad.” And I think there’s horror potential in the kind of body horror of being an inanimate object that was worn down and nearly burned alive, and then coming alive. And while it has horror potential, that story and that character have a lot of heart, and I think that would make for an interesting character dynamic. Plus fucked up little guys with hearts of gold are one of my go tos when picking my fav d20 characters

Either that or Robin Hood because eat the rich.

[snaileer]

Hotel Phantom

No matter how much they look for it, or how many times Jason goes back to the same empty burned out lot, there is no sign of the mysterious Hotel Phantom.

Bruce, of course, goes near ballistic. Jason promptly tells him to fuck right off.

And yes, is he concerned about the sense of calm he felt there? Of course. But is he also not going to admit that in the slightest if it means accepting help from Bruce, even if he might be enslaved to a secret fae realm? Not a chance in hell, Dickwad.

And as the cases pile up, and missions continue, and the annual Alien incursion passes, Jason let’s it fade. He checked with his occult sources and they gave him… not an ‘all clear’ exactly, but close enough that Jason has labeled it a ‘whatever’ in his mind.

At least… until he’s in the middle of a car chase with a grenade flying towards his face.

Jason jerks his handlebars to the side, feeling as his front wheel twists under him, losing traction as he goes horizontal and the sound of tires screeching, fire booming, glass shattering and it all goes quiet.

Jason flicks his eyes open. Gentle golden light illuminates the crown moulding and intricate ceiling designs above him.

There’s soft piano music drifting in the background, the sound of light chatter and clinking silverware.

It’s the sort of ambiance that makes you forget al your problems.

Slowly, Jason leverages himself to his feet, able to recognize the pinpricks of glass in his skin but none of the pain that should come with.

Even his leg, that he knows he landed on at an awkward angle, and the 2 broken ribs that are still weeks from healing, they are nothing but a numb pressure on his body.

Instead, Jason lets himself wander forward, taking in the clean air and gentle atmosphere.

“Here for another night, Jason?” A voice jingles behind him.

Jason slowly turns around, finding the same woman, Jazz, who he’d met the first time.

“Uhhh… Yes?” Jason feels a million questions bubble up, but he doesn’t really care to answer any of them.

Except maybe.. “Hey do you know where my bike went?” He asks as he trails along behind her to the desk.

“All vehicles are stored in the hotel garage, it will be returned upon departure, not to worry.”

Jason smiles in response, glad with just the knowledge.

“Just tonight then?” She says calmly.

“Yes please,” He says, taking another glance around to take it all in.

“Wonderful. Here’s your key, then. Just find a seat and you’ll be served when you’re ready,” She says, sliding a key across the desk with barely sound, then gesturing lightly to the side room.

Jason nods, taking the key as he starts to walk. When he sits down in one of the plush dining chairs across the room, another person just like last time approaches, pulling glass from his skin and setting his leg.

They even apply a gentle salve to the burns on his neck and arms that Jason hadn’t noticed. It glows a soft green that seems to defy the golden light.

Jason doesn’t quite have enough concern to stop them, but he does ask, “What is that?”

The person simply smiles, putting the cap back on and standing, “Nothing to worry about, it’s a house mixture to help healing of all hotel residents.”

Something about the way he phrased it tugged at Jason’s mind, but all too quickly someone else was setting food down in front of him.

“I didn’t order anythi-“ Jason pauses, looking up at the face of the server, “You look familiar, have we met?”

He looks like an older version of Danny. It’s enough that Jason feels the need to ask more questions, though he can’t reach a sense of alarm.

The man chuckles, all broad shoulders and baritone, “You’ve seen my face. I’m Dan, nice to meet you Jason.”

Jason almost asks how they all seem to know his name, but the larger curiosity wins out, “Why do you work here- or How?” He blurts, surprised by his lack of verbal control.

“Danny saved me. We’re closer than you’d think,” he says calmly, voice self assured and confident.

Again, it scratches Jason’s brain, just barely there beneath the fog of calm.

“Can you leave? Do you?”

Dan gives him a look, like he’s said something odd, “Why would I want to? Just to be hurt again?”

The words bristle at Jason, but when he goes to say something, Dan cuts him off, “You should relax, you’ve had a long day.” It sounds the same as Alfred pushing him to eat and sleep after patrol. With the sense of calm, Jason takes it to heart, eating slowly as Dan walks away with a smile.

Once he’s finished, Jason heads to the elevator, fingers brushing the key in his pocket. Hadn’t it been a card last time?

Before he knows it, Jason is stepping into his room, and it looks the same it did last time. The bed just as comfortable, the sheets just as soft.

Jason falls into sleep faster than he has in years, the same as last time, his dreams blissfully silent of laughter.

He wakes up with the sounds of a workshop in his ears, fading as he smells food in the air. Jason stands in the dim light of the room, taking a deep breath that fills his lungs like he’s just run through a meadow.

It’s disconcerting.

And Jason still can’t find it in him to care as he finds his feet leading him downstairs.

Again, he finds Danny at the counter, serving people with a smile that seems to make Jason’s shoulders sag, his fingers loosen, every part of him opening up like he wasn’t covered in injuries.

Although, to be fair, he was pretty sure he’d woken up completely healed.

It makes Jason want to grab him by the collar and demand answers. Makes him want to force everyone to stop just doing nothing, tricking him into whatever wormhole soul eating dimension this is.

Instead, Jason orders an everything bagel with honey & cream cheese, and another caramel latte.

Jason sits at one of the tables set around the open room, his mind pushing to try and connect the dots of the situation around him.

It reminds him of starting out as Robin, when Bruce would drill him on clues for a case, pushing him to figure it out, do better, be stronger, be-

Jason feels the ceramic mug snap under his hand as the pit flares to life with a roar like a caged animal. He surges to his feet, heart pumping and jaw clenched as the stupid latte spills across the table.

What the hell was this? Why was he okay just staying here? He should be pressing them for answers, even just the other patrons. But instead he was lounging around like a civil-

“Is everything alright Jason?”

Jason whips around to see Danny standing behind him.

Their eyes meet, though he swears Danny’s eyes had been more blue than green last time.

It gives Jason pause, letting his mind settle, the anger disappearing beneath the ripples as they stare.

“Everything’s fine,” he says ruefully, rubbing the back of his neck with embarrassment as he realizes everyone had looked up at his outburst, “I just got lost in my thoughts, I think.”

“Of course,” Danny says assuredly, putting a hand on his shoulder as he moves past, “You don’t have to worry about that here.”

Jason tries to pull on any of the suspicion that had filled him before, finding it eerily out of reach.

“Right… Sorry, that just feels weird to me, I guess,” Jason says, shaking his head slightly like that will dislodge the thick blanket over his mind, “You sure you’re not drugging me?”

Danny smiles again with a light chuckle that shows his fangs, as though Jason’s words are silly.

Jason thinks it is a very real concern. Now if only he could feel concerned about it!

“Like I said before, you’re calm because you’re safe, you belong here, Jason,” Danny answers, tucking the rag away with a warm smile, “How would you like to stay for another night ? I’m hosting an astronomy viewing tonight and I’m sure you’ll enjoy it.”

Jason glances around the dining room, feeling the way his core seems to be empty of the ruling emotions he’s so used to fighting every day.

This place is like being able to breath for the first time in years without a hand gripping his chest with every breath, “Sure, that sounds like fun.”

“Great,” He smiles again, turning around to return to the counter with a greeting to the next person in line.

Despite his desire to interrogate, Jason finishes his bagel, forcing himself to look around the hotel instead, even if it lacks the paranoid attention to details that he usually carries.

Even so, Jason’s half-hearted investigation feels more akin to an exploration than anything else. He does finally talk to another one of the patrons, a dark-skinned man who’s eyes glint with the sound of gears and shuffling sand.

When asked how he got here, he just says, “I’m a friend of Danny.”

“But then why am I here? I didn’t even know Danny before coming here?” Jason asks, letting his frustratingly nonexistent anxiety be filled with curiosity instead.

Tucker pauses for a second, the gentle ambiance of the hotel wrapping around them both.

“You’re only liminal. You belong here. But aren’t meant to be here. Not really. Not yet.” Tucker says voice calm and confident. As though they were discussing their favorite art pieces.

The words make Jason’s brow furrow, confusion -abandonment- a whisper behind the shield of comfort.

“What do you mean I’m not meant to be here, then why did Danny ask me to stay?”

The sound of desert winds filters through the air.

“You’d need a key for that wouldn’t you?” He says, a playful smirk on his face that sparks mirth.

Jason slips his hand to his pocket, a dull surprise brushing through him as his fingers dig through nothing but sand within.

“You have a place to return to, don’t you? A place that needs you?” Tucker asks, voice just on the edge of imploring.

Again, the words stir something in Jason. This time they are not muffled behind the hotel’s sense of safety. Because it’s not dangerous. Not to him.

It’s a sense of duty.

His duty to the Alley. To his people. To Gotham.

He has to go back.

Immediately.

Jason turns around, letting himself move faster than he had his entire stay. It’s not stress, or pain, or fear, but the knowledge that someone needs him, and he wants to be there for them. And it’s enough to push through the sluggish feeling that comes with the calm, leaving him with a perfect level mind and a desire to do more, and do better.

“Are you heading out, Jason?”

He turns his head, pausing in his movements as he spots Jazz stepping through the comfortable lobby chairs.

“Yeah, I just decided I have some things that need me back home,” he says calmly, honestly; the words easy and full.

Something in Jazz’s expression pulls tight, but the comforting exterior never falters, “I thought Danny had mentioned you’d be staying the night, for the astronomy viewing?”

Jason chuckles, shrugging with ease and a smile, “I’d need a room key for that. I’m all good. I have to get back, they need me,” Jason nods assuredly.

Jazz seems to pause for a moment, her head tilting slightly as she looks at him. Then she steps to the side with a gesture of her arm to go on, despite the fact she had never been in his way, “I hope you enjoyed your stay at Hotel Phantom.”

Jason hardly turns back, his feet out the door as glances back, “I di-“ Cold city air hits his face and he turns, “-d….” The streets of Star city lay in front of him, broken glass crunching beneath the grit of his boots.

Jason looks behind him, spotting the boarded up windows and damaged entrance, then in front of him, pristine on the roadside like he’d never left it, is his motorcycle. That he’d completely forgotten about till just now.

“Motherfucker!” Jason shouts, stomping over to it.

He finds his leather jacket -mended-, his Kevlar armor -patched-, his helmet -smoothed and clear of any dents indicating a crash like the one he knew he’d taken, “Motherfucker!” Jason exclaims again. He’d forgot about his uniform too, how? Something so important, a part of his every day life? How? How did they make him forget something so integral and he just let them!?

Jason feels familiar anxiety rise up beneath his skin, tinged with anger. It’s almost a relief that he can feel it pulsing with his heartbeat.

Jason finds his phone quickly, seeing the missed calls and messages from Roy immediately as he puts in his helmet, followed by one’s from Dick.

He presses call as he revs the motor, listening as it rings and then his comm fills with Roy’s worried shout and scolding.

He barely notices that his bike runs smoother under him, just slightly quicker without needing more power, just slightly faster to respond to Jason’s moves, responding in synchronization.

Instead, Jason turns his headlights to Gotham without a second thought. And goes.

—-

Nearly six months later, Jason will be cleaning out a specific pair of tac pants he’d left in a rarely chosen safe-house.

And as he pulls them from the pile of clothes, a small stream of sand will trickle from the pockets, collecting on the floor in a serene, gentle pile.

And as Jason scoops it into his hands, he will remember that sense of purpose. And where it came from.

And the fact that maybe Gotham isn’t the only one who needs him.

Even if they wish they didn’t.

.

Hotel AU

Jason groaned, holding a military grade field dressing to his wound as he tried his best to walk faster. Gunshots rang behind him and instinct allowed him to dodge, but one bullet still managed to graze him by the shoulder. It only made pain flare up worse, but Jason just sucked in a breath through his teeth and toiled onward to get to safety.

His comms buzzed in his ear, but no one was available at the moment. Jason still muttered a soft, "Requiring backup."

No one answered.

Jason, for an existential crisis-having moment, wondered if he was gonna die again.

Just as he thought this, a hand grabbed him by the arm and pulled him into another building.

Jason cursed and pulled out his gun with his unfortunately injured hand and pointed it towards his assailant, but then paused.

He had been pulled into a beautiful, first class looking hotel area.

"What the..." he started, before he turned.

An enormously tall woman smiled down at him. She was outrageously beautiful, with long red hair tied into a ponytail and a neat uniform covered by an apron. "Welcome, sir, to the Phantom Hotel! You seem to be in need of some assistance, would you like some help?"

Jason felt eerily calm and level headed, even as he bled all over the floors. "... that'd be nice." He said gruffly.

"Right away, sir." She said with a smile. She waved to someone over to his side and continued to speak. "I'm the co-owner of this hotel, you may call me Jazz. May I get your name for registration?"

Jason still didn't freak out yet. "Registration?" He echoed, as he took in his surroundings.

The hotel was beautiful, with tall ceilings, marble floors, white walls and candle chandeliers that glowed with dim lighting. People that didn't look like Gothamites milled around the lobby and sitting area, all relaxed and chatting amicably. There were a few that were dancing to club music. There was a noticeable bar in the corner of the room that looked unstaffed but was conspicuous in its size and black coloring.

"Yes, sir." Jazz said. "I assume that you're staying the night? We offer breakfast in the morning, and drinks are free all night!"

Jason was silent for a moment. A person wearing a similar uniform to Jazz, with a dark green vest and dark colored apron, approached them and immediately got to bandaging Jason's wounds.

Once again, Jason did not freak. He felt oddly calm, and in the back of his head, he knew that he was safe here. His gut instinct was to collapse on top of Jazz and take a nap, strangely comforted by her presence.

"... why am I so calm?"

Fuck it. He decided to just voice his question.

Jazz giggled. It was a cute noise. "Why wouldn’t you be? There’s nothing to worry about. We're the same, after all!"

Jason blinked. Then he turned to her as the attendant stepped away with the medical box, Jason feeling all healed up, and he said, "Is a night here free?"

"For you? Yep! Everything is free here."

Jason gave a nod. "Then I'll take a room with a single bed, please. Breakfast is free?"

"Yes, sir."

"Great. The name's Jason Todd."

Jazz smiled, a sparkle in her eyes that made Jason feel all fuzzy with warmth. "Very good, sir. Your room number is 312, on the third floor. Here's your room card." She handed over a plastic card that was procured out of thin air but Jason didn't think about it.

He was mentally exhausted and being in her presence made him feel like he was going to drop and fall asleep on the floor and still wake up refreshed. It was so disconcerting that it was almost not disconcerting.

Jason eventually found the elevator, though not without lingering a little around the area. The vigilante in him was telling him to be careful, even though everything else inside of him couldn't give less of a damn and was telling him to kick back and relax. Jazz, after registering him, had gone to the bar to prepare drinks.

She mixed together alcoholic concoctions amidst a small crowd and the more Jason stared, the more it seemed like the dim light was hiding something. People looked like they were wearing ragged clothes and a lot of them had dark stains. There were quite a large amount of old people as well, along with people with seemingly missing appendages.

The last two details wasn't a bad thing, but the amount of them seemed like a hint to something bigger.

When Jazz made eye contact with Jason, she gave a sweet smile and a little wave, and that was Jason's signal to leave.

He got into an elevator, went to his room, and practically sank into the cloud-like bed before he basically knocked himself out. That night, he had never slept so well.

When he woke up, his body felt rejuvenated and he almost felt peppy. It was as if his previous irritations were only bad days and he had finally struck on a good day for once.

He washed up, miraculously found his wounds all healed up, and when he went to take a shower, his clothes were found on the sink, all washed and patched up. Even his helmet had been cleaned and fixed, pristine like the day he had first gotten it.

Jason could've been more suspicious.

But to reiterate, he couldn't.

Everything about this place was like a mother's hug. It was comforting. It made him feel safe. He felt like there was nothing to worry about and although a small part of him found this alarming, he really couldn't explain why he decided to trust it.

When he came down the elevator for breakfast, he was astonished.

Last night, the hotel had looked elegant and high class. Now, in the morning, everything looked warm and homey.

The various large rectangle tables had turned into small round tables that were densely packed together. The floor was a cool blue carpet and the walls had turned a shade of cream. The ceiling had shrank, but now flowers and vines grew from it, dropping from the ceiling with bright blossoms. The bar had been replaced with a little coffee area, with a young man behind the counter, currently taking orders.

The people sitting around and eating their breakfasts looked different in morning light. They glowed with faint shades of blue and green.

Jason paused to take in the sight, considering this information before he shook it off and approached the counter.

The man, after noticing him, immediately went to the cash register with a large smile on his face. "Hello!" He said cheerfully.

Jason immediately noted the similarities between him and Jazz. They had the same heart shaped face, the same ethereal beauty to them, the same nose and smile. This man, however, had bright blue eyes and dark black hair that swept over his eyes.

"What are you drugging me with? I'm way too comfortable here." Jason blurted out.

The man paused. And then he burst out laughing. Jason couldn't help the few snickers that fell out of his throat too, but they both quickly calmed down and the man explained softly, "We're not drugging you. You're just comfortable here because it's where you belong. Don't stress too much."

He continued to smile reassuringly. "Call me Danny. I'm the owner. What would you like to order?"

Jason's eyes flicked to the menu and then he said, "A California club croissant and a caramel latte, please."

"Coming right up, big guy!"

Jason moved a little bit away to the side so that other people could order.

He couldn't help but contemplate what was going on, but it was a little hard to think being this close to Danny's presence. The urge to fight against his soothed mind and the urge to just relax were warring, but unfortunately, his latter side was winning.

If Jazz had seemed comforting and like a hug, then Danny was the blanket, fireplace, hot chocolate cup and book on a cool rainy evening. It was like Danny was his missing piece that just sucked out all of the fear, misery, and rage inside of him.

It was almost crazy how Jason didn't want to retaliate against them at all.

"Here you go, Jason." A voice interrupted him and Jason looked up into crystalline eyes before something was pushed into his hands.

Jason looked down at his order and then up again. "Thanks."

Danny smiled. "No problem! You're pretty freaked out, huh?"

Jason shrugged. Then he thought about it and he asked, "Can I leave?"

"Of course you can." Danny said. "Come back anytime. For someone like you, you have the opportunity to come by anytime you want."

Jason nodded wordlessly and then, with his order in hand, he started walking to the door.

For one last time, he turned and met Danny's eyes. Danny smiled cheerfully, his eyes squinted in happiness. He gave a big wave and Jason returned it before he put on his helmet and pushed past the doors into the open air of Gotham's polluted and smoky world.

The rose glasses fell off and the pink sparkles faded away with each blink.

Jason stared dumbfounded at his own state of body and mind, as his siblings and family all screamed into his ear frantically, begging to know where he went and how he was.

Jason could only stare at the gray, listless world around him and wonder if he had imagined everything.

"What the fuck?"

[sylvans-sketchbook]

I opened an old notebook I haven't touched since I worked at Discover Card, 2020

And found some doodles! I made these on sticky notes while I was bored at work