#and nobody knows where he is
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Danny felt a familiar tug in his chest. Not another summoning. The cultists never quit did they? Danny was going to ignore it. Just like all the rest. He figured they would try blood sacrifices but then he didn't experience the familiar tang in the air that usually wafted through his nose. That had peaked his curiosity. So he leaned into the summoning a little. Not enough to be summoned but enough to get more senses. He heard..... he heard crying! What? Why was he hearing crying? He leaned into the summoning just a little more. That allowed him to see, albeit vaguely. He caught the glimpse of a form within the circle. It was small. It was...... a child. A child? A. CHILD!? Those cultists had really thought since blood sacrifices didn't work to try a whole human. Danny's blood boiled. He had been content to ignore them until now but no more. He was taking care of this. NOW. With that, Danny allowed himself to be fully summoned. The cultists immediately fell on their knees.
"Oh great King, you have finally answered our plea," the apparent leader said.
Danny ignored him and immediately scooped the child up in his arms. He gently rubbed circles into the child's back, whom he now knew to be a boy who couldn't be older than 8. He felt his rage flair. They had tried to sacrifice an eight year old! Danny didn't even bother listening to the cultists. Instead he dispersed his power throughout the room, allowing all the souls sacrificed over the years to gain form.
"Feel free to exact your revenge," he said simply.
Then he turned and opened a portal, tuning out the screams as he stepped through.
~~~~
It took a while, but Danny finally managed to calm the boy down and convince him he didn't want to eat him. Once he did, he asked for the kid's name.
"It's Richard Grayson," the boy answered. "But my parents called me Dick."
Danny didn't miss the past tense. Were his parents dead? Danny's mouth set into a firm line. If he found out those cultists had anything to do with this- His train of thought was cut off by the sound of sniffling. Right, Dick. Danny would handle the cultists later. Right now, he had a little boy to comfort.
#dp x dc#dc x dp#winter's tales#hyper prompts#this was supposed to just be a straight danny phantom thing#but then my brain went 'what if we add dick though'#so dick was added and it became dp x dc#i cannot escape#are the cultists the court of owls or some randos who got their hands on dick?#who knows!#doesn't matter!#what does matter is bruce#he's on week three on one hour of sleep#the grayson kid disappeared from the circus the night after his parents' death#and nobody knows where he is#bruce is determined to find him
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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!"
#i feel like I'm going to reread this and want to add other stuff#but I also just want to post it and get it out there#fun fact i scribbled a bunch of lines down at 2am bc i didn't want to forget them#im bad at multiple drafts#my writing#dp x dc#dp x dc au#dp x dc prompt#dp x dc crossover#danny phantom#batman#i live to make everybody dramatic#but also i subscribe to a world where clockwork doesn't know how NOT to be dramatic#lol he's a ghost from all of time he doesn't know how to speak to humans and tailor it to the century let alone the decade#and his favorite little girl who calls him clocky loves how he speaks so#he doesn't need to change for nobody#nor feels inclined to#also I feel like as god he's way more inclined to threaten to get what he wants than like...be vulnerable#jazz: let's unpack that#clockwork: we never do#jazz: are you saying that because it's true or because that's what you want to be true?#clockwork: ...#also I cannot take credit for BITCH I MIGHTWING#wish i could#that is cash money right there#shoutout to 11thsense
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I need codependent Danny/Jason as a little treat (for me) and I love the idea of them having some sort of instant connection the moment they meet (bc ghost stuff idk)
Danny who's been dropped in Gotham with no way home (alt universe??) and he's been here for 36 hours and having a Very bad time senses a liminal being and immediately latches onto them heedless of the fact that his new best friend is shooting at some seedy guys in an alley and goes off about how stressed he is and how he can't make it back to the ghost zone and what a bad day he's been having (and it's important to note Danny is a littol ghost boy literally hanging off of Jason's neck as he floats aimlessly) and Jason is like "who are you??" And Danny is like "oh sorry I'm Danny lol" and then just continues lamenting his woes
And honestly ? This might as well happen. Nothing about this Danny guy(is he human?) gives Jason a bad vibe and tbh he's never felt more calm and level headed before so he just keeps up his usual Red Hood patrol and doesn't even think about it when he heads back to a safehouse and feeds Danny dinner (breakfast) before crashing for half the day
The only thing I actually need is Jason meeting up with the bats for some sort of Intel meeting and they're like "uhhh who's that" and Jason is like "that's Danny." And does not elaborate (very ".... What do you have there?" "A smoothie" vibes)
And it takes them a while to realize that these two have known each other for less than 12 hours and are literally attached at the hip
#very remora fish with a shark#jason todd#danny fenton#danny phantom#dpxdc#dp x dc#this isnt super important but i imagine Danny's ghost form as young and unaged from his death so jason is used to this small whispy kid#who just hangs off him and talks literally all the time#so when something comes up and someone is like 'idk if we can bring danny looking like... that' (glowing and a literal ghost)#danny is like 'oh ok u need a human? ok :)' and transforms#its been WEEKS#jason didn't know he could do that#nobody did#and now theres this 20ish dude standing there#human form danny doesn't talk a lot (anxiety) ghost form danny can't stop talking (anxiety)#could be a ship fic and at this point jason goes from 'where is my little buddy :(' to 👀😳#i imagine theres a sort of feedback loop with them both feeding off of each other's ecto energies and vibes idk#so when danny is human its not as strong#batman is convince this strange entity is like hypnoyizing his son and like hes not WRONG#but it goes both ways#idk#i just need more codependency fics :(#i should go on a bender#ignore my 500 open tabs and go to town
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Eddie's that type of partner where Steve comes home after a long work day to the tiniest little black goat baby clip-clopping around on the wooden floors in a little black sweater and the only explanation from Eddie being "his name is Bah-omet. Babs for short."
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Danny dies every night.
So! Danny's secret Ghost Powers remained a secret for about 6 Hours.
After turning back into a Human, he had immediately gone back to his room and tried to fall asleep, pretending none of it was even real, that it was just a dream. The idea that he had just died was understandably hard to swallow, not to mention the fact he had somehow come back.
All he wanted to do was rest and figure it out later. It was a problem for Future Danny.
Except when he woke up, something was wrong.
He felt Cold, Colder than he had ever been before. It was as if he had a chunk of pure Ice stuck in his Chest, the cold spreading across every part of his body. With a start he realized that his chest wasn't moving at all, either from the beating of his heart or the breaths he was supposed to be taking.
He wasn't breathing. His heart wasn't pumping. The Ice in his chest was the feeling of his heart not pumping, still and unnaturally cold. At that realization, he felt his Heart begin beating again.
He ran downstairs, hoping to get his parents help. He didn't know what was going on exactly, but they must be able to help him right?! They were the leading experts on Undead Biology, they must know how to help him!
When he reached the kitchen, he saw his parents and Jazz huddled together at the table, crying together for some reason.
"Mom! Dad! Jazz! Somethings wrong! I don't know what happened, but last night I-"
He stopped when he saw their faces. Their cheeks were tear-streaked, eyes bloodshot, but the thing he noticed first was the grief and absolutely confusion in their eyes. They were staring at him as if they had seen a Ghost, figuratively of course, and they seemed to he trying to connect the dots in their heads.
"Danny?" Jazz asked in a shaky voice. "Is that you?"
"Jazz?" He asked in return, "What do you mean, of course it's me?"
She looked hopeful for a moment, before his mom stood up.
"No." She said, her voice held a hard edge. "It's not."
Danny almost fell over when she said that. "W-what?" He asked, "What are you talking about Mo-"
"DON'T CALL ME THAT!" She yelled. She gripped the Blaster in her hand tighter, aiming it at him. "I checked everything when we found Danny's body! He had no Pulse, no Brain Activity, and his Ecto Levels were far higher than normal! Danny is Dead! And you killed him!"
"What?!" Danny yelled in shock, "I didn't kill hi-I mean, I didn't kill me-I mean-What are you talking about!?"
This time his dad answered, getting up from the table himself. In his hand was another Blaster. "Danny's Ecto Levels could only have been that high if killed by something with a large amount of Ectoplasm, enough to leave such a mark. The Portal was open for hours last night before we found it and sealed it up, and that's when you got through isn't it!?"
His Dad leveled the Blaster to him.
"No! I'm not a Ghost, it's me! It's Danny!?" He pleaded, "Mom, I always baked you a cake on mother's day! Dad, I helped you clean up the lab the last time you blew it up! It's me!"
"Nice try." His mother said, "Die again, Ecto Scum."
That day, Danny ran away from home.
...
Ever since that day, Danny had been running as far as he could from Amity Park.
After he got out of the house, he tried to find any place he could hide as he figured everything out. His first try was Tucker, but his parents had anticipated that and beat him to the Punch. The same happened when he tried to go to Sam's, he barely escaped that situation alive(?).
At first he tried to stay in Amity, hoping he would eventually find a way to convince his parents of his true identity, so everything could go back to normal.
He abandoned that hope about a week later, when his parents got the local authorities on their side and issued a public service announcement stating he was a Murderer who killed their son, and to contact the Police if anybody saw him. The mindless Ghost they captured and presented on the Local News cemented the publics view on him.
So he ran from Amity.
The first few weeks on the Run were the worst. He wasn't used to surviving on the street, much less evading the Law Enforcement that seemed to keep finding him. He had to constantly stay on the move to keep away from the pursuit of his Parents, the Police, and the weird guys in white suits who had shown up once he passed the State Border.
His new Ghost Powers were the only thing that had let him get away most of those times. He could turn into a Full Ghost whenever he wanted, unlocking all of his powers for the time being, but also seemingly sending up a Beacon to whoever was looking for him. He found it was much easier to use their weakened versions in his Human Form.
As for his Undead-ness, he had mostly figured it out. His body was lying to him. He was Dead, but his Body was just pretending to be alive for his own sake. He didn't need to breath anymore, and his heart didn't need to pump, but they did because he felt that they needed to. He probably didn't even need to eat anymore.
The problem was that it couldn't keep it up when he was asleep. No matter what, every time he fell asleep his Body would die again, and when he woke up he would have to make it Live again.
One of the main reasons he kept getting caught recently was because well-meaning civilians would report to the Police that there was a Dead Teenager under a Bridge, or on a Park Bench, or on one memorable occasion in a Ditch. He would wake up in a Body Bag, escape, and be reported to his Pursuers.
At least his pattern of movement was untraceable so far.
Turns out, the Portal's opening had much more of an effect than his parents had anticipated. The Shockwave in the fabric of Reality when they punched a hole through it (and him), had caused dozens of Natural Portals to form across the Country, opening and closing in random places, soaking the area of Ectoplasm.
As an apparent Ghost, Danny was somehow drawn to these places. Whenever he got to one he felt rejuvenated, as if the stress of the past few days had never happened to him. He could only assume that he was Absorbing the Ectoplasm in the area to feed himself, based on a few of the things he remembered from his parents constant ramblings.
Whenever he would go to one of these places, he would find a bunch of Ghosts. Some were friendly, defying all of his expectations, while others were...less so.
They seemed to resent the fact that he was still half-alive, some simply jabbing insults at him, others straight up attacking him. It seemed that Life was a sore subject among those guys. Or maybe it was him stopping them whenever they attacked humans...that was probably more accurate.
Sometimes the Ghosts he would meet were in the middle of attacking humans to fulfill what they called their "Obsessions". He learned that all Undead, and basically all Immortal Beings, have Obsessions. They are their Sole Purpose in existence, a built in defense mechanism against insanity by giving them something to dedicate Eternity to.
He didn't know if he had an Obsession, but if he did he hoped it was easier to manage than theirs seemed to be. One of them was obsessed with attention, but got it by hypnotizing humans into adoring her. She chilled out after a while. Another loved the thrill of the Hunt, but only wanted rare game. He chased after Danny a lot in pursuit of his "One of a Kind Pelt".
He fought then off and saved people whenever he could, although sometimes it was risky. Many of them were older and more experienced than him, so he was forced to use his Ghost Form against some of them, sacrificing his hiding spot to save the people being terrorized.
He sort of enjoyed it. Whenever he helped people, saved them from danger, he felt better about his situation. As if he was making the best out of the horrible situation his life had turned into by helping as many people as he could. He always felt a bit more motivated to keep going every time he helped anybody.
Maybe that was his Obsession? Helping others? He didn't really think so, he was nowhere near altruistic enough to consider that a possibility. Maybe it was Space? He always felt that same relief when he would camp out away from the Cities. Eh, he'll probably never know.
This cycle of finding a new hiding spot, getting discovered, and running away again continued for a while. Years even.
Danny had Died at 14. He was now 17, and had been homeless for 3 years.
He hoped this next hiding spot would last a bit longer than the previous ones. This one felt different, the Ectoplasm he was wandering towards felt older than the other places he had gone. His previous hiding spots had always been the site of a recent Natural Portal, and the Ectoplasm in the atmosphere would feel Fresh and Wild.
But the Ectoplasm where he was going tasted Older, Stronger, more Set in Stone than the others had. Wherever he wad headed to next, it had been soaking in Ectoplasm for far longer than any other place he had ever been, even in Amity.
He walked up the the Sign at the side of the road, introducing the City to newcomers.
"Welcome to Gotham City" it said.
#Dpxdc#Dp x dc#Dcxdp#Dc x dp#Danny Phantom#Dc#Dcu#Danny is Dead when he sleeps#Danny is immediately found out#Nobody Knows AU#For about 6 hours#Sam and Tucker weren't there to corroborate Danny's story#Danny is Homeless#The Fentons locked up the Portal after they found out a Ghost killed their using it#The Rogues have to find more roundabout ways into the Human Realm and spread across the country#Danny still fights them and still befriends some of them#He just happens to show up at the same Portals they are exiting at the time#Wonder why that keeps Happening? (Looks at a certain grandfather clock suspiciously)#Danny actually has 2 Obsessions#His Ghost Half has a Protection Obsession but it is stifled because he spends as much time as possible in his Human Form#His Human Form has a Space Obsession which he gets to indulge whenever he camps out away from Civilization#He gets found quickly tho without humans energies around to camouflage in so he can't do it too often#Danny goes to Gotham#The Ecto there feels older and more powerful so he hopes it will keep him hidden for longer#Meanwhile with the Fentons:#They think that the Ghost who killed their son is traveling to all these portals to absorb their Ectoplasm and grow his Power#All as part of some convoluted evil scheme to take over the world or something#Meanwhile with the Batfam:#They has been a string of Murders where the bodies share the same description and then disappears a few hours after discovery#And they seem to trace a Path that is leading directly to Gotham as the next location
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Okay but it's super interesting how
Din = Power = Ganondorf
Naryu = Wisdom = Zelda
Farore = Courage = Link.
Because Din, in the hylian creation myth, created the physical world. Naryu then created the laws - gravity, time, etc. And Farore finally created life - plants and people.
Din created the body, naryu the mind, Farore the soul.
And the triforce and its wielders so perfectly reflect that.
Ganon is physical power, he is big and intimidating and he breaks things. He is cunning and determined, but that's not what he focuses on. He is might makes right.
Zelda is wisdom and cleverness. She is stall tactics and information and team work. She is a powerful mage with a spine of steel, but that's not how she'll win. She is the pen being mightier than the sword.
Link is courage and persistence. He is the wild card sneaking behind enemy ranks, always moving, plunging into terrifying situations head first. He's a phenomenal fighter with a keen wit, but that's not what will get him through his challenges. He is bravery not being the absence of fear but the triumph over it.
They sit in perfect parallels to each other.
And ganon is reborn through his body - his resurrection is immortality. No matter how low he is cast, as long as he has a body he can claw his way back. He can cling to his power, build it ever higher.
Zelda is reborn through the magic of her bloodline. It's the accumulated knowledge handed down for generations, the unique power she must master, the skills she must develop to survive and get her kingdom out the other side intact. Even her name, the knowledge of herself, is handed down from all the way from the very first. Her ancestors knowledge of her future presence, her stability, is what gives her the edge.
Link is reborn in spirit. He is not bound by flesh or blood. Just like his wanderlust soul he can reappear in any time or place. His variation, his unpredictability, is exactly how he fights. It's what makes him so hard to pin down.
Ganons need to build strength means he can't chase after link. Links impulsiveness means zelda can outwit him. Zeldas stationary predictability means she's an easy target for ganon.
But the other direction?
Fire melts ice, ice redirects lightning, lightning burns fire.
And that's the very essence of the triforce.
#It's little details spread across the games like this that just makes it work so WELL it's SO COOL#They're all great at all parts of the triforce but they CHOOSE to focus on the path most meaningful to them#And that's literally reflected in their unique cycles of reincarnation isn't that just AMAZING#And that's why the team up is so important! If they were all working against each other they'd be locked spinning their wheels#If zelda and ganon teamed up link would immediately die and if link and ganon teamed up zelda would instantly perish#It's the link zelda team up that means ganon is the one who kicks it#Also the elemental thing was cool but they do jump around a bit. Like wind is there half the time#In botk the gerudo have lightning and the goron have fire. Farosh still has lightning tho and dinraal fire#In ss lanaryu was the lightning and faron had water like its all over the place thematically. And that's when it's only 3!#Don't even get me started on the 5/7 lots notankyu#But that's the most common group and it's also thematically accurate#Fire being the only one able to self perpetuate with fuel. Can be banked up again. Ice compresses with time but needs the right environment#Lightning go boom 👍 you can feel the static in the air but you don't know when/where it'll strike and then it's all over#Like fr it's hilarious zelda and ganon are playing the long game and link runs past eats all the pieces and while ganons yelling after him#Zelda checkmates his king. And nobody can prove she wasn't cheating because nobody was looking lmao#Ah the duality of metaphors#ANYWAY isn't that so neat???#Reason no.372 why rhoam was a terrible king he didn't just screw up he did it ✨thematically✨#If link had been allowed to run off and get dirty and if zelda was allowed to study her interest (like post kingdom fall FOR EXAMPLE)#They'd have won (like aoc) but nooooooo. I've already made a post (or 3) about it lmao I'll be quiet now#loz#legend of zelda#botw#triforce#loz link#the legend of zelda#zelda#loz botw#ganondorf#loz ganon
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(guy who has never played cotl) haha au time
#this started as a design exercise bc i couldnt get sphinx/devon rex narinder out of my head#but the whole time i was thinking man imagine if the lamb brings him in as a follower but nobody knows he was actually. you know#and the followers are like haha wow our leader channels the power and wisdom of the one who waits almost as if they were them#would that be cool or what. anyway heres narinder reassuming his pre-bishop form and everything his flesh remembers before godhood#ok now im gonna ramble abt design notes#the singe marks were inspired by fallen angels like how some ppl say they burned while falling from heaven. i wanted smth like that when#the lamb is resurrected by nari.. their outfit is inspired by papal cloaks while narinders is based on crusader armor#the lambs name 'bellwether' is also a term used for sheep that wear a bell and lead the flock and i thought that was cool#idk what the thuribles do yet but i do have smth in mind where theyre linked together. and ofc the lamb has a shepherds staff#very proud of nari's little devil tail!! and it was hard to see bc its so dark but he has wrinkles around his forehead to conceal his#third eye. even he isnt aware of it (for now)#idk where im going with this au i just have a bunch of ideas?? basically the lamb is keeping nari's identity a secret from him so he doesnt#go down that path of powerhungry destruction. smth like trying to lead him down a better path but feels guilty lying to do that#also theyre in love with each other and theyre stupid pining idiots abt it. mwah#cult of the lamb#cotl#cotl lamb#cotl narinder#the one who waits#cotl the one who waits#narilamb#art#au#myart#my art#character design#cotl au#false prophet! au
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I can't believe DS9's 30th birthday year is almost over and I have never once seen a commemorative gifset for it featuring THEE iconic line
#WHY DOES IT HAVE TO BE SO FUCKING HARD TO MAKE A GIF WITH MULTIPLE SUBTITLE LINES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#THE AMOUNT OF TIME I JUST SPENT ON THIS!!!!!!!!!! FUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#''Well. Literally nobody asked you to.'' I KNOW!!!!!!!!!!!! THAT MAKES IT SO MUCH WORSE!!!!!!!!!!!! where were we#Star Trek: Deep Space 9#Starky's Original Posts#He's Turning Thirty. Dot GIF.#Starky's GIFs
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Twould seem when in doubt I just draw Legend very messily
#Hes so shaped#I need to get back into drawing but alas I am going through it#And by “it” I mean#Art block and emotional exhaustion 😎👍#my art#linked universe#doodles#linkeduniverse#linked universe fanart#lu#lu legend#Where is his hat? Nobody knows#Ok my parting words are to please ignore the state of legend’s boots#And don’t read the description thingie unless you want to facepalm at my poor sense of humor
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Mistaken Identities (dp x dc)
Danny had been doing his thing, looking around, making sure he didn't alter anything in the past, minding his own business. Officially, this was supposed to be a trip to gather more blood blossom samples for Team Phantom to study, but he had ended up being a little sidetracked. Apparently though, puritan times made for beautiful forests, sue him if he was enjoying a moment of peace in his otherwise crazy life. So here he was, relaxing for the first time in way too long when this guy just barged into the clearing. Danny straightened up with a yelp which had the guy stopping in his tracks before he turned to look at Danny.
"Be not afraid, child. I mean you no harm," the man said.
Danny squinted as he looked up at the half-shadowed face of the man that seemed vaguely familiar.
"Boy?"
"Uh-" Danny managed as he realized he was supposed to answer. "Oh yeah, no problem, man."
The man tilted his head which directed Danny's attention to his weird buckle-hat. Sobering up as he recognized the clothes from his previous jaunt in the past where Sam had almost gotten burnt at the stake, he mentally congratulated himself for turning back into a human before his nap. He really didn't want to end up trapped in blood blossoms by witch-finders again.
"Are you lost?" The man said, as he edged closer. "Do you require aid?"
The halfa jumped to his feet. "Nope!" Danny said before letting out a nervous laugh. "No aid, I'm all good. Thanks though."
The man opened his mouth to say something before another voice, higher pitched stopped him. "You are back!" A woman wearing a simple dress, with a few birds fluttering around her like a Disney princess approached them.
"Annie," answered the man.
"Come," she said before leading him away with only a glance towards the teenager. The man let himself be dragged away, but not before a last few words. "If you are ever in need of assistance, please do not hesitate."
Danny waved his hand. "Yep. For sure, dude. Thanks!"
Then before the man had turned away completely, the woman grabbed his hat playfully which revealed his face completely to the weak moonlight, and coincidentally to Danny's view. The couple disappeared between the thick foliage as Danny sat, struck dumb with what he had just witnessed.
"Oh my god," he whispered to himself. "That was Bruce fucking Wayne."
Danny had seen enough rag magazines and newspapers with his face printed on the cover to recognize the billionaire for sure. What the hell was he doing in Puritan times? Then, it hit Danny like a brick. Natural portals. They weren't common, or stable and they'd been known to spirit away people randomly. Clearly, they also had some pretty severe side-effects including amnesia considering the old-timey speech pattern Mr. Wayne was using.
There was only one thing for it, Danny clearly had to bring Mr. Wayne back to the present. Not only because it was the right thing to do, but also because a missing billionaire was bound to attract a good amount of attention and if anyone connected this to the ghost zone... Well if the GIW was bad now, Danny didn't want to know what other kind of unsavoury people would pop up if ghosts were better-known. Just imagining the Justice League getting involved was giving Danny the shivers. No, the best thing to do was get Mr. Wayne back to his time and hope he wouldn't remember much of what had happened and wouldn't dig into it further.
Just as he was nodding to himself, he heard a scream coming from not too far away. He transformed before flying towards the noise, only to find the woman he'd seen before with Mr. Wayne being captured by a bunch of men wearing the same kinds of hat.
"She's a witch! Burn her!" He heard someone yell. "Hang her dead!" Someone else said.
This was giving Danny some major flashback to Sam's very own witch burning and without wasting a second, he phased the woman right out of their grips and flew them away from the angry mob.
As soon as he landed and let go of the woman, she turned to him and gripped his arm instead. "You have to help him!"
"Help who?" Danny asked, wincing.
"Mordecai!" she said, her grip tight.
"Is that the man who was with you earlier?" the teenager asked.
The woman nodded before pointing southeast. "He is in the caves, fighting the dragon!"
Danny didn't waste anytime before flying in the direction she had pointed to. Going intangible helped with speed, and he phased through the ground, going straight for the aforementioned cave. He just phased through when he caught sight of Mr. Wayne. As he got closer, he could feel some sort of energy radiating from the man. Just then, the energy started building up and Mr. Wayne started to go transparent. Panicking, Danny did the first thing he could think of and absorbed the mounting energy to himself. It felt like a shot of adrenaline except way, way stronger and for a moment everything blanked out, before the world came into focus again. When he looked around, he couldn't find a trace of Mr. Wayne, but from the energy left over he could tell exactly when he had landed. The Golden Age of Piracy.
"Goddamit!" Danny yelled as he once again felt Bruce Wayne slip through his grasp as he stole away the potent energy from the billionaire's body before it could follow wherever he was going next. First it had been pirates, then the Wild West and lastly it was 20th century Gotham, clearly the natural portal had been all kinds of fucked up for Mr. Wayne to have been dragged from time period to time period. It was a miracle he was even still alive, the poor man! Danny let out a harsh sigh as he parsed out through the information the energy had left him with. This time he'd gotten the information for the two next time-jumps, which meant, Danny could get ahead of this for once and finally catch Mr. Wayne before he could jump again.
With a steadying intake of breath, Danny took out the Infiniv-map and set his destination before he let himself follow through. As he got through he could hear a bunch of different voices, all talking over each other.
"-distortions mean what I think it-"
"-not fair!"
"-time is breaking-"
"-only leave his body once he's dead."
Danny paid no mind as he locked eyes on Mr. Wayne who was lying in Wonder Woman's arms, in a black bodysuit, looking worse for the wear. The same energy as before was emanating from him, though this time it was even stronger. Danny approached carefully, invisible before he put a hand onto Mr. Wayne's chest and concentrated on drawing all the energy into himself. It wasn't like the other times, the flow was faster and he was having trouble staying focused as more and more flew into him. His brows scrunched in concentration, and unbeknownst to him, the invisibility dropped.
All the heroes in the room turned to look at the suddenly appearing white-haired teen who had a hand on Batman's chest. As they stared in confusion, the teen started to glow. It grew brighter and brighter before everyone had to shield their eyes as there was a pulse of bright light that died down almost immediately after. Wonder Woman had to blink the spots out of her vision as she felt the weight in her arms start to shift and let out a groan. "Bruce!"
She set him down and helped him put his head between his knees, as she gently stroked his back. Superman settled on his other side while Red Robin just sat in front of him, still half-believing Bruce was really back.
"What happened?" Bruce mumbled. "The omega radiation, I thought-"
"I'd like to know that too," Green Lantern said before he turned towards the glowy kid who was still blinking his eyes as if to chase away afterimages.
"His energy signature is the same as Darkseid," Raven said, her own eyes having not left the teenager since he had appeared.
"You don't mean..." started Superman as all the heroes turned to look at the kid slowly. The latter finally looked up as if sensing he was the focus of many eyes and cringed as he met the combined stares of the Justice League.
"Yes," Raven answered. "This is Darkseid's son."
#my guy Danny has no idea what is going on#at least nobody's shooting at him#he would still like to know who is that Darkseid guy and why do these people think he's his dad#dc x dp#dp x dc#danny is Darkseid's son#(at least that's what the justice league think)#this is what happens when you absorb unknown energy willy-nilly#it's just not sanitary who knows where that energy could have come from tsk tsk#I just read Batman: The Return of Bruce Wayne#so just know this is entirely based off of that#('that' being that period when Bruce was lost in time)#roxpox#roxpoxwrote
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[this is kind of a messy ramble, sorry about that]
Demon Twins AU, except Danny is loyal to the League.
The League of Assassins is a “cult” for a reason. They know what they’re doing. Ra’s has been around for a very long time; he’s seen every trick in the book and then some.
So when his daughter Talia gave him two, near-identical twin grandsons, he had already planned out their lives by the time the sun had set on their first day living. He knew the plans weren’t perfect. Nothing ever went exactly how he wanted it to. But that was the joy of being absolutely fucking ancient. Ra’s adapted better than anyone. If something went wrong, Ra’s will simply work around the issue and live to see another day.
So the boys were raised as he wished. Ruthless, with sharp blades and even sharper wit. They matched each other in every way, blow for blow. Neither won more than the other, and Ra’s encouraged the competition between the twins. Eventually, the battle for title of Heir came, and Damian won that particular match.
Danny was fine with this. Thrilled, even, for his brother to earn the title of Heir. The boys were very close, and worked well to take down targets twice their size. Ra’s approved this, and granted Danny title of Shadow. He was to be Damian’s eternal shadow, a guard. Both Talia and the boys were pleased with this.
But then came the time for the boys to learn how to live without each other. They’d gotten too used to someone guarding their back. Too complacent and too confident in their roles. Ra’s knew it would happen, and so sent Danny off at a very young age to live with some sleeper agents in America.
The Fentons.
Damian would stay here, with Talia, to learn how to be the perfect Heir. He needed to learn how to fight without the assistance of his brother.
Danny would go to Amity Park, and be fostered by the Fentons. He needed to put his skills to practical use and learn how to live without constant orders.
This was their Test.
Damian did quite well, for a while. Until Talia sent him off to his birth father, The Bat. Reports on his behavior declined in quality after that, and Ra’s couldn’t help but feel dissatisfaction with how the Heir had been corrupted.
Danny’s reports were always immaculate, however. His mask never slipped, and he’d worked himself into the hearts of the townspeople. The sleeper agents, Jack and Maddie, had a daughter who was quite enthusiastic about the properties of the mind, and accept Ra’s instructions to teach Danny with ease. It was the ideal situation.
In Ra’s eyes, Danny was thriving. Damian was not.
And then Ra’s died. The League was in shambles. Damian was at peace with his family, away from the cult he grew up in. He assumed Danny had defected years ago, since their mother stopped giving him reports about his twin.
Then Danny showed up at the Wayne’s doorstep, decked out in full League attire, angry and hostile.
“Tell me, dear brother,” he spat. “Why did you not inform me that Grandfather had died? I had to find out through his spirit when it came to visit from the afterlife!”
Damian didn’t know what to say.
#DPxDC#pondhead blurbs#just#Danny and Damian grew up in a CULT#cults have a reputation for a reason#Danny had no reason to even think about defecting throughout his entire childhood#if being loyal to his grandfather was an issue clockwork would have told him#Dan would have told him#the Fentons are part of a league faction operating out of the US#even Jazz is loyal to them and started viewing Ra’s as a grandfather figure the few times he came to visit#Danny LOVES his assassin grandpa and nobody in amity blinks an eye at him#Ra’s does know about the Fenton portal and phantom#because why wouldn’t Danny tell him?#Ra’s dies and his spirit immediately heads over to where he knows the portal is so he can get some help#ghost Ra’s: my grandson. it’s been too long.#Danny with the worst voice crack: why are you DEAD#Talia is still in hiding#or doing whatever she’s supposed to be doing idk#Danny shows up to ream Damian out and yell at him for his disloyalty#everyone is extremely worried about what Danny will do because he is very obviously still in deep with the league#he doesn’t like the talk about being ‘free’ because he was always free. tf you talking about Grayson.#also Damian doesn’t know about the full properties of the Lazarus pits or ectoplasm. he’s the Heir not the Head. that’s private stuff#Ra’s is a smug bastard using his grandson as a way to get revenge on the living#Danny is HIS shadow now.#I must stress Danny is pretty much the same as canon but literally just loyal to his grandpa Ra’s#maybe Ra’s meets clockwork? Ra’s x Clockwork?#their ship name is Sun Dial now I’ve decreed it
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yknow, I am amused that solangelo fanon was so tunnel-vision in like 2014 that in the midst of crawling through literally every time Will had popped up in the series prior, somehow the ONE singular instance of Will referencing something that the fandom did absolutely nothing with was the thing Rick then decided to draw out into being a major character trait for Will.
Like. Nico eats McDonalds once and it becomes a huge fanon thing, but Will references Star Trek and the fandom doesn't make a peep until Rick explicitly canonizes that he's a huge sci fi nerd. and Rick doesn't even keep it consistent! He changes it so Will is a Star Wars nerd instead of Star Trek. smh 😔 /lh
#pjo#riordanverse#will solace#this is in jest i hc Will is just a general sci fi nerd but i just find it funny that like#yeah Will being a sci-fi nerd DOES get referenced relatively early on in his character#its just literally nobody cared a singular bit to acknowledge it in fanon before TOA#and somehow *that* is the thing Rick went ''ah yes! a character trait! this will become a huge part of his personality''#also amused that Rick changed it from Star Trek to Star Wars. did Disney tell you to do that Richard. be honest.#Rick named his cat Tribble i know where his biases lie#also the fact that this line exists makes Will's later star wars nerd characterization even funnier imo#because it DOES imply he's a general sci fi nerd. possibly even bigger nerd than initially implied#cause it means he's largely familiar with at least two major sci fi series#which then implies that probably extends further. and again there is like next to zero fanon about this#fanon sees Will's sci fi nerd characterization and just goes ''...meh. nah.'' maybe gives him a lil star wars at best#this is a totally neutral thing i just think its funny#like now wait hold on. lets hear out his Avatar and DW opinions
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Sorry for not posting in a while, Ive been sick for over a week which has hindered all my wips. So have some bishop baby doodles as compensation <3
#cotl#cult of the lamb#colt fanart#cotl narinder#cotl heket#cotl leshy#doodles#mewnie art#Yes Leshy is naked. I headcanon as a baby he just refused to wear clothes like he hated the texture or whatever#and only upgraded to pants when he evolved from baby to child#Also yeah in my lore Narinder just found Heket and brought her home with him one day. Nobody knows where she came from#I mean... I know where she comes from. But nobody in the lore does. Only one who would sorta know is Nari and he can barely remember it
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I never get tired of drawing his face it's so fun
#ok i watched life sentence for elliot#WHAT WENT WRONG IN THE FINAL 20 MINS#i liked the concept i liked the characters where did it all go wrong#ive bothered everyone i know with how shocked i am at like every single thing that happened#it was worth it for the handful of cute moments but AT WHAT COST#whatever you do dont watch the last episode it was like a game of thrones finale#anyway back from a week break to draw more elliot bc im processing my life sentence binge watch#elliot knight#kyle gaz garrick#sorry for tagging it gaz but like.....hes got the full gaz look here even the navy jacket ok#nobody has to know......#i want the long hair gaz fans to watch sinbad too im begging but thats beside the point#my art#procreate#cw life sentence#wes charles
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#aaaaand just like that he's gone#(feels so surreal doesn't it?)#well done starlight#you okay tho#no seriously#you still with us?#hey-#WELL IM DEFINITELY NOT OKAY THIS SHIT HAD BEEN SITTING IN MY WIP FOLDER FOR A M O N T H#do you wanna know why#KAZOODOOR THAT'S WHY#BITCH KEPT MESSING EVERYTHING UP#DUDE YOU'RE DEAD HOW CAN YOU STILL BE SO ANNOYING#THIS ISN'T EVEN ABOUT YOU YOU'RE JUST A DECORATION HERE#REST IN PISS#NOBODY MISSES U#RRRRRRRAAAHHHHHHHHHHH#well at least our little star seems fine#he's not even crying#looks like he may in a second tho#BUT as art is all about CAPTURING THE MOMENT here's the moment where he's NOT crying#yet#and would you look at that I'm disrespecting the rules of anatomy again#kazoo's spine is broken#THAT'S WHAT YOU GET FOR KEEP MESSING UP MY PICTURE#Astarion did the stabstab I did the crackcrack#no regrets#astarion#bg3#baldur's gate 3#astarion fanart
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gonna break your heart <3
I see a lot of people characterise Jason as very, very vocal about his death - almost flaunting it, throwing it in peoples face. And I think he did, at first. He screamed about it, constantly - but, but, as time went on... I like to think he stopped. Slowly, but surely I think Jason stopped bringing it up, as a weapon to use against people or at all.
Because when he did it - he was screaming out for people to listen, to hear his pain and to accept him, see why he is the way he is.
And when he did - he got eye rolls, called dramatic.
So, Jason, reborn and hurting, half-mad, seemingly replaced like nothing happened screams out - I died, I died and it doesn't look like it mattered to you. Did I matter to you?
In response - eye rolls. Sighs. Oh, look at Jason, he's crazy, ignore him.
So Jason shuts up about it - because, obviously, it doesn't matter to them, does it?
#jason todd#dc#dcu#batman#red hood#Jason Todds death#I am. having emotions#poor baby#15 and dead then alive#teenager! then all he knows post revival is violence#of course he's not stable!#so I think he was screaming out and to him he ended up screaming into a void where he was hoping for someone to notice how not okey he is#even if he doesn't know it#and that ignorance is another nail in the coffin telling him nobody cares
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