#but it hurts me. just a bit.
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Hey can everybody turn around and not look at my blog real quick. Thanks
IM GONNA THROW UP
BRUCE TIMM IN IN YOUR FUCKING WALLS
FAT ALFRED WIN FATHER ALFRED FAIL!!!!!!!!
#im aware its totally dumb for me to be mad about this#bc like i get it thats the whole vibe of the show were not going for wholesome here#but it hurts me. just a bit.#listen im in a weird place rn#and i want to like this show#but. hhhhhhhhh#I mean it's not a *bad* interpretation#I fully acknowledge that#objectively#alfred is a bad distant father figure#in order for the whole batman thing to happen at all#im just. dumb and attached
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what is with men being mad any time a woman raises her voice where did that even come from. someone posted a video of a small electrical explosion, and the top comment was of course the woman screams. the second comment is women try not to scream challenge, level impossible. i had to go back and watch the video again. there is, somewhat fainty, a little gasp emitted off-camera, more of a yelp than a scream. it is mostly lost in the crack of the explosion. afterwards, you hear her voice, shaken, say, are you okay?
i am helping one of my friends train her voice pitch lower, because she wants to be taken seriously at work. she and i do each other's nails and talk about gender roles; and how - due to our appearance - neither of us have ever been able to be "hysterical" in public. we both appear young and sweet and feminine. she is cisgender, and cannot use her natural voice in her profession because people keep saying she appears to be "vapid". we both try to figure out if our purposeful voice lowering is technically sexist. is it promoting something when you are a victim to it?
a storm almost sends a pole through a car window. in the dashcam, you can hear the woman passenger say her partner's name twice, crying out in alarm. she sounds terrified. in the comments, she is lambasted for her lack of calm. how is that even fucking helping?
in high school, i taught myself to have a lower voice. i had been recorded when i was genuinely (and righteously) upset; and i hated how my voice sounded on the phone speakers when it was played back. i was defending my mom, and my voice cracked with emotion. it meant i was no longer winning the argument: i was just shrieking about it.
girls meet each other after a long summer and let out a little joyful scream. this usually stops around 12-14, because people will not tolerate this display of affection (as it has the effect of being passingly annoying). something about the fact that little girls can't ever even be annoying. we are trained to examine each part of our lives (even joy) for anything that could make us upsetting and disgusting. they act like teenage girls are breaking into houses and shrieking you awake at 3 in the morning. speaking as a public school educator: trust me, it's not that bad, you can just roll your eyes and move on. it does not compare to the ways boys end up being annoying: slurs in graffiti, purposefully mocking your body, following you after you said no. you know, just boy things.
there's another video of a man who is not allowed to yell in the house, so he snaps his fingers when he's excited about soccer. the comments are full of angry men, talking about how their brother is unfairly caged. let him express himself and this is terrible to do to someone. eventually the couple has to address it in a second video: they are married with a newborn baby. he was trying not to wake the infant up. there is no comment on the fact women are not allowed to yell indoors. or the fact that it could have been really alarming or triggering for his wife. sometimes i wonder if straight men even like women, if they even enjoy being in relationships with them.
for the longest time, i hated roller coasters because it always felt inappropriate and uncomfortable for me to scream. one of my friends called me on it, said it was unusual i'm so unwilling. i had to go to my therapist about it. i don't like to scream because i was not raised in a safe situation, and raising my voice would have brought unsafe attention towards me. even when i am supposed to scream, it feels shameful, guilty. i was not treated kindly, so i lack a basic form of self-protection. this is not a natural response. it is not good that in a situation of high adrenaline - i shut up about it.
something very bad is happening, i think. in between all the beauty standards and the stuff i've already discussed - this one feels new and cruel in a way i can't quite express. yes, it's scary and silencing. but there's something about how direct it is - that so many men agree with the sentiment that women should never yell, even in an emergency - it feels different.
is the word shriek gendered automatically? how about shrill or screech? in self defense class, one of the first things they tell you is to yell, as loud and as shrilly as you can. they say it will feel rude. most women will not do this. you need to practice overcoming the social pressure and just scream.
most women do not cry out, even when it's bad. we do not report it. we walk faster. we do not make a scene. what would be the point of doing anything else? no matter what we do, we don't get taken seriously. it is a joke to them. an instagram caption punchline. we have to present ourselves as silent, beautiful, captivating - "valuable."
a woman is outside watching her kids when someone throws a firecracker at them. she screams and runs towards her children. in the comments, grown men flock together in the thousands: god. women are so annoying.
#warm up#writeblr#this one has bothered me for a bit#any time a woman does something even passingly annoying we treat it like a fucking crime#hey man. women are allowed to be annoying. everyone forever is allowed to be passingly annoying#as long as they aren't hurting anyone/thing#like u wanna know something? i find it super annoying that men don't wear seatbelts#why arent there thousands of comments on driving videos thats just like : men try not to die in a car crash challenge#''this briefly annoyed me''. okay??????? AND????????????????? go get ur self a cookie and calm down about it#ur not entitled to control other ppl's experiences and emotions just so u can maintain ur own peace#if being briefly annoyed ruins ur whole day! you! need! therapy!!!!#men try not to become immediately angry about nothing challenge: level impossible#ps author is nonbinary. we didn't even get into the gender presentation thing#the fact men think it's SEXY that my voice is on the lower end....
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#art#fat positivity#body positivity#positivity#birblr#canary#doodle#Sorry I'm a bit all over the place at the moment guys#Had to spend time with my partner's fatphobic family#And I know I'm a thin guy so I am not like directly hurt by the things they believe#But it still was just an awful experience and I'm still kinda feeling that#And it infuriates me that me standing up for what's right is always framed as me being a delicate sensitive anorexic#You should treat fat people nice because they are people and deserve basic decency#I am not being overly sensitive by not wanting to hear your fatphobic crap#You're just not nice people#/rant over#Sorry for my little outburst guys! I am usually an easy going guy#I just get really riled up about this stuff#Fat people are wonderful and it is such a blessing to live in a world with such a huge range of different bodies!
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Mobei-Jun getting abandoned in the human realm by his favourite uncle and being left alone and terrified?? baby???? gonna lie awake thinking about him and Shang Qinghua meeting as children
#svsss#shang qinghua#mobei jun#moshang#sqh#mbj#that is a DELIGHTFUL twist on their canon dynamic#where sqh is justifiably scared of mbj because he's a powerful demon who could squish him like a bug#instead here we have lil mbj who's terrified of all these humans and is alone and helpless and in danger#like he was left there to die! and his father just happened to notice he was missing after ten days!#like fortunately he wasn't hurt just dirty and scared but no wonder this guy has trust issues!#any fic recs about young mbj in the human realm - or de-age fics with him being scared around humans - i would deeply appreciate#because i want to chew on this entire concept a bit#(i'm never gonna finish this book i swear every three pages i have to stop and digest a random bit of trivia mxtx throws out and then!#doesn't! fucking! expand on!!! you can't just drop this on me and expect me to be okay with it i need to lie here and think about this!)#my art
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summer is coming so i'm giving them the beach day they deserve
#my art#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#itadori yuuji#fushiguro megumi#kugisaki nobara#gojo satoru#nanami kento#fanart#jjk fanart#yuuji#megumi#nobara#gojo#nanami#the drinks r non alcoholic do not worry#and one of them Is megumi's however yuuji Will b taking a generous sip#do not talk 2 me about perspective i am trying my hardest man water is so hard.............#i omitted yuuji's scars and nanami nobara n gojo r . u kno. Here .#so this is probably set pre-shibuya but idc enough to figure out a timeline#megumi voice Whatever!!! i just want them 2 have fun on the beach :(#i want gojo to hurl them in2 the water i want nobara 2 play fetch w the dogs i want them to shake themselves off all over nanamis stuff :((#so glad my hyperfixation media is so lighthearted . so glad it doesnt hurt every time i think abt them . so glad this is canon actually.#gotta do everything myself in this household smh#sighs . we cope !#drawing this made me think back to an old fb zine piece i did where they were Also on a beach#n that piece took MONTHS n this took 2 days so thats a bit of growth there babey#anyway all that 2 say i am drained but i am victorious
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what WERE tim and kon doing in that closet together that made kon have to get dressed afterwards anyway? wrong answers only. i'll start i think they were playing two person strip poker but tim cheated like a motherfucker. actually wait that doesn't make this sound any less gay. um. hold on. there's gotta be something. um
#rimi talks#this was gonna be a bit but that actually doesn't sound any less gay than gay sex. okay. well#let me try again. um......#like there's the boring option (kon was changing out of a hospital gown and... tim was there too... for some reason...)#that STILL sounds gay god dammit#had the thought maybe tim just wanted kon to strip for a minute to verify he really wasn't hurt? BUT THAT ALSO IS STILL GAY.#graduation day is certainly a comic that exists but truly the closet bit is so .#winick you mad bastard etc#like i don't Actually think they fucked in there in terms of how i see their relationship progression in any canon adjacent context#but my GOD is it funny. sfhksfklsfgj#timkon#tim#kon
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so, would you?
nothing important under the cut, you don't need to look haha
#inspired by the random youtube short i saw about how these types of questions are not really about logic but about emotion and reassurance#doesn't matter if the question doesn't make sense. you say 'yes' because you love them no matter what. not because its a worm or a bug or#or anything. its a way of saying 'i will love you when you've changed and when you're different. because it's still *you*.'#idk something about it just felt so gentle and genuine. like a pure display of affection through a silly question...#and of course fnc was the first thing i thought about because i got brainworms#jrwi fish and chips#jrwi riptide#jrwi chip#gillion tidestrider#my art#sketch#also im back from a vacation! and i feel so awful i got sick the first day home and im sitting here at 6am drawing fishes and chips#the dialog feels a little ooc but i cant figure out if it really is or if its because my head hurts and i cant think#tbh it doesn't really matter.......... but it matters to me augh#ALSO yes the under the cut bit is about episode 109. i dont know if its clear or not
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fast travel duck my beloved....
#tloz#a link to the past#my art#it feels a bit excessive to come on here just to post this and have nothing else done but I thought it was cute for once...#this game is Doing it for me#talked to one little guy in the woods who gave me an instrument and then turned into a tree and I shed a tear#idk this is what I'm here for idk the small little things in these games just make me feel stuff#I'm enjoying it so much but everything is truly just out to kill and hurt you in this game holy shit#still thinking about la I will finish wips eventually....
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The Curse Of Hope
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Danny is in another universe. He had a reason, but he doesn’t remember anymore. He can only stare, horrified and disgusted, at the sickest city spirit he’s ever seen. Shivering and swaying with every step, core exposed, and ectoplasm leaking from wounds that are decades old. A ratty blanket was thrown over their shoulders, barely hiding the spirit’s pale grey skin and protruding black bones.
The spirit didn’t even sense him until he reached out to touch its wispy shoulders. The spirit flinched, clutching at the dozens of trinkets hanging from their neck and tucking in on themselves like they were expecting a blow.
“Oh, shit,” He swore, floating back a few feet, hands in the air, to show he meant no harm. “I’m sorry. I promise, I’m not here to steal from you.” The spirit shivered again and rolled a pearl necklace in between their fingers. A nervous habit. “Uh, I like that pocket watch? It’s very nice.”
That got their attention. They peeked at Danny, and he saw that more tattered cloth was covering their eyes, blending in with the stringy hair that reached the ground. Their blanket fluttered weakly, revealing hundreds of thousands of tiny marks etched into their skin. Scars, really. Scars that wrote out curse after curse onto the spirit’s very being. They burned with evil intent, and even reached inside the spirit’s body and wrapped around their core.
Occasionally, blinding specks of color raced across their body, temporarily erasing the writing, but it always returned quickly. He watched, a little detached, as one particular line rewrote itself across their rough forearm, drawing fresh ectoplasm like someone was writing it with a thin knife.
“Are you…alright?” Danny stuttered. A stupid question.
The spirit cocked its head. He couldn’t see their eyes, but he felt their burning gaze as they pondered the question.
“The pain of others becomes mine own.” They rasped. “The lights of the city dim as rotten wealth clogs mine veins. Magicks long forgotten have eaten mine skins, pulled mine cloak, and darkened mine skies. Helios has refused to grace mine doorstep, and the seasons of the Earth have revoked their kindness.”
Danny held his breath. It felt like he was the one with the exposed core, not the spirit.
The spirit shivered once more. “Tell mine soul, little lamb. How could this Forsaken City know peace, when it was long since ripped from mine hands?”
Shit, he needed Frostbite. And maybe Clockwork. Now.
-Or-
Danny meets the spirit of Gotham City. The villains and rogues that have plagued the city for decades are literal curses that are taking quite the toll on Gotham, and honestly, Danny isn’t sure how much longer they can hold out. The heroes seem to be doing some help, and are probably the reason Gotham made it this far, but the poor city needs help from the Realms if they want to get better.
Luckily, Danny can provide that help.
But only if he could get Gotham to leave their city behind. Because recovery is going to take a very long time.
#dpxdc#pondhead blurbs#Gotham is very lanky and tall and had dozens of necklaces around their neck#the necklaces are just cords filled with lost things the citizens have lost over the years#like bits of glass or wedding rings or hag stones made from a destroyed gargoyle#actually I have a weird picture of Gotham in my head I might draw it#it’s giving Bloodborne to me but idgaf#basically Danny meets Gotham and is trying to convince them to go with him for medical help because what the fuck#those curses are the equivalent of leaving hundreds of leeches stuck to your body for ten years#Danny is BEGGING Gotham to come with him#there’s potential for angst but if you want crack then Danny probably replaces Gotham#I think there’s already a similar fic where he becomes the new spirit of Gotham but I haven’t read all of that#anyways the Batfam are like#invasive animals that are actually helping the ecosystem recover from an even WORSE invasive species#but they aren’t supernatural heroes and they don’t understand that the issue is deeper#I’m calling this the Curse of Hope because Danny is offering hope to Gotham#but Gotham is just so tired and sick and hurt that they don’t want to risk it#they think Danny is another curse come to plague them#should he just straight up adopt the city at this point?#idk it probably depends on how it’s written#sad course is to let Gotham die. happy ending is where they are treated and returned#crack ending probably has Danny adopting the city and introducing them to his own city spirit Amity Park#oh shit is that a new ship#guys please I can’t keep doing this#Gotham City x Amity Park#how the fuck do you come up with a name for that#Burger Joints?#Wet Pavement?#bro idk I’m putting this down before I make something I might regret#low key wanna write this but like. I have so much to do
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"Yeah, but we talked about it and I didn’t want it." "Why not?" "Because it scared me."
#critical role#ygifs#cr3#fearne#she got me fucked up#her leaving her treasured cherished postcards at the altar of the raven queen where so many memories are left#leaving the one thing that had been her lifeline and her hope. the most important thing to her and she leaves them behind#because they weren't what she thought they were.#her innocence growing into sadness and that's the reason why she feared the dark versions of herself#because she was sad and angry and alone#this faun wearing her heart on her sleeve and running from what hurts her and it's just. ms johnson i'm#''do you think it’s the world changing you or do you think it’s you changing in the world?'' ''yes.'' girl i'm on my knees#I couldn't be more grateful fearne continued from exu this growth hurts so so so good I'd die for her#fearne angry? delicious. fearne sad? delicious. fearne tits? del-#fearne this episode you can really taste the If I'm Not Pleasing People It's My Fault When They Leave and it bit me
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Lestat, struggling to ask Louis about September 8th.
INTERVIEW WITH THE VAMPIRE S02E08 - “AND THAT’S THE END OF IT. THERE’S NOTHING ELSE”
#Interview with the Vampire#IWTV#iwtvedit#iwtvsource#Lestat de Lioncourt#tvedit#tvgifs#filmtvcentral#filmtvdaily#filmtvedit#cinemapix#mine*#mygifs#iwtvmine#IWTV 2#you really don't know. you just can't even begin to imagine how feral this makes me feel. because he could have asked ANYTHING#it's been DECADES since that night and he could have asked anything else. but no. he had to ask if he had hurt himself#he hadn't known PEACE since the moment Armand called him. and yet... the moment he CAN ask Louis about it? HE STILL STRUGGLES#the way he avoids his eyes. that bit right there. AHHHHHHHHHH. I want to scream!#also. I wish I could say I can officially move on from giffing this scene but I'm not sure. it's just so great to color#(it's always been the same coloring but it still amazes me how happy I am with it hahahaha)
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#decadentart#bloodborne#father gascoigne#the perspective might be a wee bit wonky . thats fine. dont care#this is what i get for adjusting the angle of his face sligjtly mid-drawing#context - the blood is explicitly his own#originally it only came from his gums but. eh. nosebleed upon thee#he makes me crazy he makes me sick he m#7 hours on canvas… woof#so important to me how he has 6 incisors. that must hurt#snyways i have a biology lab to attend *puts on a pair of sick goggles and a lab coat and walks away with swagger*#UPDATE: gr his chin is bothering me. eh. its unnoticeable. anywyas . nothing weird here lalalala#update 2 - jsut realize dhow coose this is to the one shot of him in thr cutscene . its kay. its iconic . just wish i NOTICED!!!!
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Blood Blossom Au: before the nightingale sings
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for my batdad blood blossom au, the one where Vlad poisoned Danny with blood blossom extract and Danny ran away from him and ended up tumbling into the care of one Pre-Robin Battinson Batman :). A quick oneshot telling the tale of the tragic deaths of the Fentons
TW: Major Character Death Warning
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Not all deaths are created equal.
That is a valuable lesson in life to learn. One that Danny learns when he is eleven years old, standing in the pit of his parents’ creation; the culmination of their life’s work. The portal to the other side, the realm of the dead. To the infinite.
He learns that when he’s eleven years old, in a hazmat suit that sags on him, and boots that clunk when he walks because the only ones that fit are his mom’s, and even those are too big. In gloves that he has to clench his fists in because otherwise they fall off. In goggles that slide down his nose even when he’s tightened them the farthest they can go.
He learns that when he’s eleven years old, choking on giggles that harmonize with the laughter of his friends’ who stand at the mouth of the tunnel. Sam’s holding a polaroid in her hand. They’re just being kids.
They’re not laughing when Danny’s hand hits the safety lock — the one with faulty wiring, the only one in the tunnel. The only one he could possibly hit. They’re not laughing when the portal buzzes to life, and the lights inside switch on row by row as the generator begins to rumble and hum.
They’re not laughing when Danny dies. They’re screaming. They’re not screaming when he comes back.
Not all deaths are created equal.
Some are poetic, beautiful. The satisfying close of a book as it comes to an end, of the hardback thumping soft against the pages like the sound of a door closing. A train run its course.
Some are violent; unsatisfying; unfair. The unexpected shattering of an egg as it rolls off the countertop when nobody is looking, the unmistakable crack as it falls to the floor. It is abrupt and messy.
But most are just… unremarkable. Unintentional. Clumsy.
Danny’s family dies one night in late January. He is thirteen years old, barely a month away from fourteen. It is unforeseen. It is preventable. It happens.
It happens like this:
Their water heater breaks one Monday in January. It’s old, sitting in the garage, and has dealt with nearly sixteen years of Fenton-grade chaos and shenanigans. Of parents tossing scraps and junk into the garage as brief storage to come back to later. Of illegal tune-ups on their vehicles that result in something exploding. Of little children running around and knocking things over, playing with poles and sticks they find on the ground, on the shelves. Of being lived and used.
Something had to give.
Jack Fenton notices it immediately when he comes upstairs that very afternoon — his children at school, his wife downstairs — to grab something from the garage. The very same scrap and used material they store like squirrels to use later.
He stops what he’s doing to fix it.
It wasn’t supposed to be permanent.
Despite what many believe, Jack Fenton is not the idiot people make him out to be. He knows what he’s good at, he knows what he’s not. He knows he can be passionate and obsessive and single-minded about things. He knows that he is a scientist, an inventor; an engineer.
He knows that he is not a plumber. That fixing water heaters is not something he knows how to do, not safely. And he loves his family. What he does is only meant to be temporary — a fix meant to only last a few days until they can call someone in who can fix it for them.
So Jack Fenton futzes with the water heater, gives it a temporary stitch to last a short while, and reminds himself to call a plumber later that day to come in and fix it. He turns and leaves the garage with the part he came for — a sheet of metal for his wife to melt down — and disappears back downstairs.
He does not make that call; it slips from his mind.
It is not his fault.
One day passes, then two, then suddenly it is Thursday. The water heater has still not been fixed, the water heater has been forgotten. It is nobody’s fault.
Danny asks his parents at breakfast if he can stay over at Tucker’s house for the night. Just one night. They’re going to study for their math test and then play video games until midnight, but he only tells his parents that first half.
He’s been doing well in school. Really well — better than he has in a while. There’s been a delightful lull in ghost appearances for the last few weeks. The living don’t know why, but Danny does. The Winter Truce always calms the dead down for a while, something about how the Zone cleanses itself twice a mortal year and that fresh wave of ecto clears out the old and brings in the new.
This year Danny got to participate. He’s feeling the effects of it too, and he’s been sleeping consistently well for the first time since the accident.
It’ll never happen again.
His parents agree under the condition that he doesn’t stay up late, and Danny harmlessly lies through his teeth and agrees. He goes and throws overnight clothes into his school backpack, and when he leaves for school with Jazz his parents are already departed into the lab.
The last conversation he has with his sister is in her car on the drive to school. Inane, mindless conversation to fill the air and pass the time. Jazz comments on how relaxed he’s been lately; Danny tells her about the Winter Truce. She listens in rapt attention.
She tells him that she’s glad to see him so well-rested. She thinks her little brother’s been growing up too fast these days. She thinks he’s been too tense. Too caught up with the spinning of the world around him that he forgets about himself sometimes.
When they reach school, before Danny can get out of the car, Jazz looks to her little brother and says; “I love you.”
Her little brother’s cheeks turn an embarrassed shade of red. He makes a scrunched up, grossed-out face, but can’t hide the smile pulling across it. “Don’t be a sap, Jazz. I’ll see you later.” He tells her, yanking his hood up over his head. She hears the bashful, ‘love you too’ before he walks away.
That is the last conversation she ever has with her brother.
Thursday is unremarkable, passing by in its normality as it always does. There’s one, maybe two ghost sightings; shades lurking around in curious infancy that are easily spooked away by the presence of a greater being. Danny doesn’t even have to go ghost.
Thursday evening is even less so. Danny goes to Tucker’s house — Sam has a prior arrangement with her slam poetry club — and the two of them study for an hour before they toss their textbooks aside and reach for the game console.
Danny sleeps in Tucker’s room with one of the extra blankets on his bed, curled across the room in one of the bean bag chairs. It shouldn’t be comfortable, but to Danny it is. He sleeps throughout the night, the portal shut down by his parents before they’d gone to bed.
Early Friday morning, before the sun has even risen yet, before it’s even so much as a concept to grace the horizon, the water heater breaks again. It was supposed to be fixed.
Carbon monoxide is a silent killer. Odorless and scentless, it kills within minutes. It fills the house like a shadow casting over the ground, creeping into the rooms.
Danny’s family die in their sleep; painless and unaware.
It’s not Jack Fenton’s fault. He didn’t mean to.
Nobody wakes up with their alarms.
Danny wakes up to Tucker Foley’s alarm on Friday morning, and he turns his head intangible and shoves it into the beanbag chair like an ostrich hiding its head in the sand. Tucker gets up before him, and throws a pillow at him as he reaches for the alarm.
There’s laughter, messing around. The both of them get dressed, and Danny has breakfast with the Foleys that morning. He takes the bus to school with Tucker, and they meet Sam by their lockers.
To him, everything is as normal as it should be. There are no ghosts for him to fight right now, school is as school does, and he’s on top of all his schoolwork.
He does not see Jazz at all that morning, he doesn’t notice. Their schedules are so different, their routes on different paths, that it’s not uncommon for Danny to not see Jazz until he gets home some days. That’s if there’s no ghost attacks.
At lunch, he gets approached by her friends. Worried creases between their brows, they ask him if he’s seen Jazz. She hasn’t shown up to any of her classes. She’s not answering their texts. It’s unprecedented of her; unheard of.
Danny doesn’t admit to the concern that swells in his gut when they tell him this. He shrugs at them, and says he hasn’t seen her either. But it was probably nothing to worry about; she might just be sick and sleeping it off.
He offers to text her and let them know if he gets a response, and that seems to ease her friends enough that they shuffle away in uncertainty. He keeps his word, and does exactly that. He pulls out his phone and opens her contact, and shoots her a message.
‘Where are you?’
He doesn’t get a response back, Danny is left on sent. He puts his phone in his pocket, and with a sense of unease creeping in the back of his mind, goes on with his day. He gets no response by the time the final bell rings; and he tries not to be worried.
The house is quiet when he opens the door. Unusually quiet. He drops his backpack to the floor, it lands with a hearty thunk, and begins to take off his jacket. “Mom! Dad!” He yells. He hangs it up, and slips his shoes from his feet. “Jazz skipped school today!”
A laughable untruth that would get his sister all riled up normally; she should be able to hear him from the front door if she was in her room. The house just stays dead silent.
He can’t even hear the usual banging and crashing from the lab. His unease returns. He reaches for the intercom that leads directly down to the basement, and presses the button to turn it on. A burst of static, and then he speaks;
“Mom? Dad?”
Danny lets go, and waits for a response. He gets none back. That never happens, not when the house is this quiet. Not when he knows they should’ve heard him.
Something sickly and fearful borns in the pit of his stomach, and begins to snake upward. He heads for the lab. The cool metal of the door is familiar in the grooves of his hand, and he doesn’t even need to think about the code as he punches it in; he simply lets muscle memory guide him. It’s been the same since he was little.
The door hisses as the pressure is released, and he swings the door open. He takes the stairs down two at a time. Something is wrong. His parents aren’t answering him. His feet pound against the metal.
“Mom? Dad?” He calls again, more worried, more frantic. More scared. His voice echoes down the stairwell, and he reaches the bottom before it’s fully faded. The lab is empty. The portal is still shut down.
It was four in the afternoon, they should still be down here.
Danny races back upstairs, fear-raised nausea coiling in his throat. “This isn’t funny you guys!” He yells when he reaches the top, shoving open the door with more force than necessary. His head swims, his voice cracked.
He checks the garage, the car is still there.
“Mom!? Dad!” His voice bellows out throughout the first floor, loud enough that it bounces back at him and rings against his ears. He’s never raised his voice this much — mom would scold him if she heard him. But she doesn’t show up. “Jazmine!”
Finally, he goes upstairs, and he can’t tell if what he’s feeling is anger or terror. Something is very, very wrong.
He swings the door of his parents’ rooms open first, and there they are, with the lights still off and the curtains still drawn. As if they hadn’t left their bed all day. Some of Danny’s fear lifts from his shoulders just by the sight of them, but he’s still trembling. Something is still wrong — the room smells… off. Not good, not bad. Just… off.
He swallows dryly, his throat still thick, and steps into the room. “Mom, dad?” They do not stir. “Didn’t you guys hear me yelling?”
There is only room static. Danny’s heart shrivels in his chest with a tenfold return of terror, he feels ill. He remembers, just now, that they’re not heavy sleepers, and his dad should be snoring like a freight house.
Danny reaches their bedside in seconds, hand outstretching for the covers, “Momma? Dad?”
Not all deaths are created equal.
But many of them are accidental. Unmeditated. Shocking.
Danny Fenton finds his family dead in his childhood home. He runs to his neighbors in hysterics, inconsolable, in tears. Nine-one-one is called, but there is nothing that can be done. They were dead for hours by the time Daniel Fenton returned home.
He sits on the front steps of the neighbor’s house beside FentonWorks, his jeans slowly becoming wet from the snow that was unable to be scraped off, and watches the paramedics cart out his family beneath white sheets. There are police cars blocking off the street, yellow tape blocking off his house, red-blue lights lighting up the block, an ambulance on the scene. He is wrapped in a shock blanket, and he is missing his jacket and his shoes. His tears are freezing onto his face, he can’t feel the chill.
Not all deaths are created equal
But all of them are unforgettable.
#dpxdc#danny fenton is not the ghost king#dp x dc#dpxdc crossover#dp x dc crossover#dpxdc au#dpxdc fic#blood blossom au#dpxdc ficlet#starry's writing#tw character death#cw death#angst#hurt no comfort#carbon monoxide poisoning almost sounds like a plain way to go when compared to the other batkids. but then you think about it for more#than a second and then the inherent horror of it all creeps in. danny found his family dead. he found their corpses.#i didnt feel comfortable writing it - just a little bit too heavy even for me yet - but just know that danny shook his parents as if he was#trying to wake them up when he realized they were dead. he went into emotional shock and kinda mentally shutdown.#he yelled and screamed and tried to wake them. and then rushed to his sister's room only to find the same thing. rinse and repeat#more time passed between danny finding them and him going to his neighbor's than what i showed#no more than an hour because the house was still full of carbon monoxide but longer than five minutes. long enough that when he finally wen#over - in hysterics and missing his shoes and jacket - he was completely inconsolable. he was having a breakdown.#when i was writing the ending scene with the paramedics and police and stuff i was very much calling on how i imagine Bruce's own experienc#might have gone. different but similar. with a thousand yard stare and water in their ears#two boys wrapped in shock blankets surrounded by police lights and having just seen their families dead. teehee
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thinking about essek thelyss "my entire life goal is and has always been the search for knowledge, the uncovery of mysteries, and I'll do it before everyone one way or another, no matter what I have to do, no matter the cost, but meeting you turned my life around in such a way that I would turn away the opportunity to uncover the greatest time mystery of all that's right in front of me and fix every mistake I made, just by the mere possibility that changing any of the choices I made would take you from me, nothing would make me give away any of the moments I had and will have with you.... unless it's for you, then I would do it in a heart beat" and going just a little bit more insane
#do you understand the grip this wizard has on me#I'm spining their final scene in my mind for 3 days now#I cant get over 'but I'm here today in this moment with you because of these mistakes and as much as they hurt me I wouldn't change a thing'#and the next MINUTE he's like 'will you do it? I'll help you'#JUST#WHO EVEN SAYS THAT#THAT'S ABSOLUTELY INSANE THING TO JUST SAY LIKE#INSANE LEVELS OF COMPLETE DEVOTION AND LOVE AND DEDICATION AND JUST#WHO TF DOES THATTTTTTT#ESSEK THELYSS YOU INSANE MF *SHAKES HIM*#god this fixin wizard ruined my life#shadowgast#cr2#essek thelyss#caleb widogast#mighty nein#m9#sorry just rereading a fic that made me spiral a bit here
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It's so interesting how submissive House is to Wilson. In basically every scene where Wilson gives his 2 cents about a case, House without fail (for the most part) follows his opinion. Wilson gives him unsolicited advice and half the time he listens without saying anything, and the other half he argues but ends up listening to him anyway. House starts psychoanalysing Wilson and Wilson does it right back to him and House shuts the fuck up or gives a one line quip back at him (to have the last line) but knows deep down Wilson is right.
For a man of House's stature and how he interacts with Literally Everyone Else, the writers really hammer it into your soul that House only really listens to Wilson and no one else
#i only really started noticing this after the “i am in charge of our relationship” scene and LIKE#ITS TRUE!!! WILSON IS VERY MUCH IN CHARGE#hes wrangling his little scruffy stray kitten and hes doing his best#house cannot be controlled but wilson fucking tries and is the only one who succeeds sometimes#as for things like vicodin#i think house doesnt listen to wilson for that because its a coping mechanism#its his only solace that takes away a deeply traumatic incident that happened to him#it is the only bit of control he has over that incident#and hes not gonna just let go of it#and because he doesnt mind dying a little or a lot sometimes he wont just give it up bc its hurting him#hilson#house md#heph.txt#m super sleepy rn i hope my words make sense#n i hope my text posts arent starting to get annoying bc i have so many thoughts and every time it strikes me it goes on Tumblr
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Thank you. I'm sorry.
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#poorly drawn mdzs#mdzs#wei wuxian#jin guangyao#lan wangij#jin ling#LWJ shifting into fight mode was so damn cool. He is always ready to start throwing hands.#It's in a way that befits someone with a bit more bloodlust that his calm demeanor lets on - but nearly always in defense of someone.#What a great synergy with his personal philosophies! see that he is a Genuinely Noble Guy time and time again!#Is is also way more hilarious and unhinged than most people give him credit for? Also yes.#Nothing and no one ever said he did not or would not rip off JGY's hat mid-fight. I think LWJ needs to snatch more wigs LITERALLY.#Yes I'm delaying the part where I have to address the emotional turmoil of Jin Ling stabbing wwx. It gutted me terribly.#What is worse that realizing that someone you respected has done horrible things#than discovering someone who did horrible things being a kind and trustworthy person?#What is more horrifying that realizing other people are extremely complex and cannot be categorized into black and white?#When people hurt us or our loved ones we very much want to make them out to be irredeemable monsters. But they are not.#It is not actually such a terrible fate to just be a person. To be forgiven and forgive is possible. To change is possible.#This lesson is hard. It is something you have to actively challenge yourself to do. Black and white is the innate path to go down.#And its *why* I love Jin Ling so much. He is the character who fights the longest and hardest to challenge social and personal beliefs#He gets a pass for stabbing wwx for being so deliciously conflicted and tormented by it.#And with wrists THAT limp I can't imagine the wound was particularly deep
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