#felt like posting that today for reasons :)
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Family Portrait
The only family he has.
#Still always thinking about how he knew all their names years later#Why do I feel the need to do this to myself#You can count- They're all there#I think this is one of the darker things I've drawn#It felt really heavy#Also I'm totally only posting this today because that's when the reaping happens#no other reason#the hunger games#catching fire#mockingjay#I've actually had this idea for MONTHS#like since December#but as you can imagine-it took a lot of motivation#please don't let this flop istg#hunger games fanart#haymitch abernathy#thg haymitch#thg series#katniss everdeen#katniss#peeta#district 12#sunrise on the reaping#suzanne collins
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Childhood Friends Au: Danny's in Gotham Again
when the wool is off your eyes you'll stop counting sheep at night cause you'll eat your fill of them during the daytime
A few weeks after Danny’s visit to Gotham, he buys an apartment in the city. It’s this little thing, a studio apartment on the same street he grew up in. In Crime Alley. When he tells his parents, they protest heavily. They don’t think it's safe. They think he should reconsider. There were plenty of apartments and places to live somewhere else. And what about college?
Danny doesn’t think he’ll go to college. He isn’t sure what he wants to do, now that being an astronaut is off the table. It’d be a waste of money to go without a goal in mind, he thinks. He says he’ll take a gap year and apply at one of the community colleges funded by the Wayne Corporation, possibly. It just wasn’t in the cards right now.
“If things get tough,” He says at dinner that night, “then I can talk to the Waynes. I’m friends with the family, remember?” He ended up getting Bruce’s number in his phone again before he left, and in the process got Tim’s as well. They don’t talk much, Danny isn’t sure what to say. But he sends Tim memes whenever he comes across one and thinks he’ll like. Tim sends memes back in return.
His parents do remember. They remember. They also remember the horrified shriek that echoed through the house when Danny learned of Jason’s passing. They remember running up the stairs and bursting into their son’s room and finding him sobbing into his bed, curled up like a little kid, like he was in pain. He lost his voice that day, stuck between screaming out his grief and sobbing it.
They’re still not sure if they should let him go.
In the end, Danny wins them out, and he lets them help him search for an apartment. They take a break from their lab work to help search for cheap furniture to buy. They may have more money than when they were in Gotham, but that frugal part of you never fully goes away. They all agree that they don’t want Danny to be seen carrying in nice-looking furniture when he moves in.
He ends up with a basic furniture set, all mismatched, and in the warm summer of June, his parents rent out a u-haul and drive him down to Gotham to move in. They meet the landlord when they arrive, a skinny and frail old man with wispy white hair and a wrinkled face. He gives Danny the keys and tells him what apartment number he is, and then he leaves.
His parents help him move in. They help him carry his heavy furniture up to the second floor, where his apartment is. Danny isn’t sure if he wants them to help. His mom and dad are strong, but they are getting old, closer to their fifties now that their children are grown. His dad’s hair is slowly beginning to thin, and rather than the white eating at the sides of his head, it now streaks through his hair like salt-and-pepper. His mom’s hair is graying out too, and there are more lines in their faces than he remembers there being.
When he voices his concerns, his mom laughs spiritedly and says that they may be getting old, but they are still as spry as when they were in their twenties. Danny isn’t sure if he believes them or not. He can see his dad struggle a bit when they return to get his bed frame, and they have to take a break before they go back down for the rest of their things.
Five years ago, his dad could do this without breaking a sweat. It forces a heavy thing in the back of Danny’s throat. (He is less afraid of his own death than he is of his loved ones, and while he has always felt rocky with his parents, he still loves them more than anything else.)
Danny’s apartment is exactly as he would have expected it to be: shabby and worn through. The entire room smells like stale cigarette smoke and weed, nicotine stains the wall with poorly covered bullet holes, and stains in the carpet that are a color he can’t discern. The fridge has a broken light and when he tries to turn on the gas stove, it click-click-clicks before lighting, fire fwooshing out while the smell of gas fills the air. There’s rat droppings in the cupboards and the closet-like bathroom is just as bad.
The ghostly part of him can sense the heavy stench of death in the room; people have died in this room. People have died in every room of this building, he thinks. They have died on the streets outside and in the alleys squeezed between them. He can feel it like a heavy fog in the air.
It is painfully nostalgic, a bittersweet feeling in his chest that he grimaces to.
When the last box is placed in his apartment, his parents offer to help unpack. They are hesitant to leave and Danny knows it, although he doesn’t know if it’s from empty nest syndrome or because it's Gotham. He thinks it might be both. He is their youngest child finally leaving home to a city known for its danger.
“Are you sure you don’t want us to stay behind, sweetie?” His mother asks, a frown she tries to hide settled in the creases of her face. She fiddles with her hands, a nervous habit Danny has since noticed when she feels truly unsure and doesn’t need to hide it. Hesitancy looms over her like a heavy cloud.
His dad jumps in hastily, splaying his hands and smiling painfully wide to hide the glistening in his eyes. “You’re mother’s right! We can help you get everything set up, champ. I could probably do something with that stove of yours to make it faster!” He says, his voice still booming like it always does even if there’s a stumble in his words.
It makes his heart squeeze, knowing just how much they care. It was hard last summer, telling him that he was the Phantom. Terrifying, actually. They couldn’t comprehend it. He hadn’t felt his heart beat that fast in years when he stood in front of them at the kitchen table and told them he was a halfa, begging them to believe that ghosts weren’t inherently evil.
His parents were people of science, however, and after much, much shock, they slowly came to terms with it. How could they not? The evidence was right in front of them. Their son was dead-alive, alive-dead. Somewhere stuck in the between. The tears they shed that night could fill a river, moving from the kitchen to the living room as Danny explains how he died.
(When Danny tells them that he died after a week Jason did, his mom and dad look horrified. His mom covers her mouth when he adds that it was his idea to go inside it, his dad looks ashy pale, gripping his pant legs so tight that his knuckles turn white. There is a conclusion coming to their minds that he can tell they don’t like.)
(“You’ve always hated our inventions, Danny.” Mom says in a hushed voice, and Danny winces at the wording, sinking into the back of the cushions in shame. He never thought that his parents noticed. Mom quickly grabs his arm, “No, no, there’s nothing to be ashamed of Danny. We were… perhaps too careless with our inventions, too enthusiastic. You had every right to hate the things we made when they had a tendency to… to malfunction.”)
(Malfunction is a delicate way of putting it, when Danny remembers every time they had to evacuate their old apartment complex because whatever half-baked creation his parents made inevitably blew up into ash and smoke. There were soot marks permanently stained into the ceiling.)
(Her hand slides down and grabs his, and she cups it in both of her hands, squeezing tightly. He forces himself to look up, and there is a look like her heart breaking when he looks into his mother’s eyes. “You’ve always avoided the lab after we moved, Danny. And you had every right to, so why on Earth did you ever think about going into the portal?”)
(Danny struggles to come up with an adequate answer, a way to verbalize what came over him that day five years ago. The answer is there, hanging in the air like a knot in a noose. He opens his mouth, and then closes it.)
(Finally, with a tongue made of lead, he shrugs lamely and looks away. “I didn’t know there was an on button inside it.” He mumbles, and despite being the truth it feels like a lie. But that is the truth. He didn’t know there was an on button inside it. So he didn’t care what happened.)
(Something dulls in mom’s eyes, like she thought of something else that Danny hadn’t said. Her eyes shimmer, and she squeezes them shut, breathing in so deep that it shakes. And then she pulls him into a hug, a hand burying into his hair and pressing him close. “It must have hurt so much, sweetheart. I’m so sorry.”)
(It is something that Danny doesn’t expect her to say, like missing the last step of the stairs. It startles him so much he laughs this short, bark of a thing. He feels his dad press against his back and wrap his big arms around them, his nose pushed into his hair.)
(Because yeah. Yeah, it did hurt. It hurt more than anything else he’s ever felt before. It had torn him apart and sewn him back together again, only to rinse and repeat. The pain was nothing he ever spoke to Sam or Tucker about, and it was something they never brought up. No, that’s not true. If they ever brought it up, Tucker would call it a zap. As if Danny only experienced a mild static shock. Like it was painless. It’s a pretty lie that Danny lets him and Sam believe.)
(His eyes sting and water immediately wobbles into his vision, coming up with such a force that he doesn’t even need to blink before it spills over. “Yeah.” He forces out, voice unexpectedly rough and cracking. “Yeah, it- it hurt. A lot.”)
He tells them about fighting the Lunch Lady a month later. He tells them about finding Jason. It comes spilling out like a waterfall. “I found him, mom.” He says, holding onto her tight while she keeps him tucked under his chin like a little kid. The secret of Jason being Robin stays hidden under his tongue, it is not his secret to tell. Not his identity to expose. He grips her tighter. “I found him, mom. Right there in the Ghost Zone, and he was my Jason. He wasn’t an echo or a— an imprint of him.”
Mom is silent; quiet and attentive, and so is dad, who rubs his large hands up and down Danny’s spine in an attempt to soothe him. It only works a little. Danny breathes in like a gasp as the urge to cry overcomes him again. He always avoids talking about Jason, his grief is like a never-healing scab that can be picked off at any time. It is ingrained into his core.
“And then I lost him.” He forces out, a sob layering under his words that he chokes on and swallows. The hand on his back stills, and he can feel mom and dad breathe in like a question. He turns his head and pushes it into mom’s shoulder. “He disappeared, mom. Just— just gone.”
“And he didn’t move on.” He says, voice snarling like teeth biting before his mom can ask, because he knows that’s what she was going to ask. It’s what Sam and Tucker asked when he came to them in tears hours after he found Jason gone. It’s what Jazz said when he finally told her about it. It’s what every one of his ghosts asked when he told them about it and begged for their help.
Danny grits his teeth and tries not to dig his nails into mom’s clothes as a fresh wave of tears run down his face. “His haunt is still there. If Jason really moved on it would have disappeared with him. That’s how it works. But it’s still in the zone, so Jason’s out there I just don’t know where.”
(Sam once asks him why Danny didn’t just move on from it a year after Jason’s disappearance. She asked him why he didn’t give it up. Danny nearly saw red, and nearly bit her head off for it. It was incomprehensible to him to just stop looking for Jason, to give up. Not when he was out in the zone somewhere. Because he had to be in the zone.)
(Danny once tried to take Jason through the portal with him, and much like what happened to Kitty, it didn’t work. Jason was too tied to the ghost zone to leave.)
(Some bonds are just unbreakable, he thinks. Bonds forged through blood and time and trust, and when you’re on the streets of Gotham, you hoard what little trust you have in someone like a dragon with its gold. It is scarcely given and fiercely kept.)
“I’ve been looking for him.” Danny whispers when talking becomes too hard for him, when it runs the risk of him crying. “When- when I’m not fighting ghosts or, or in school or with my friends, I’ve been looking for him.” He has explored the Ghost Zone in every reach he can. He has met so many people. He’s met the ghosts of aliens from planets in every corner of the galaxy. He has met gods or god-like beings and their disciples.
He’s met famous scholars and writers (he’s gotten the autographs of all of Jason’s favorite writers). He has found entire cities that have so much life in it that it's been permanently etched into the ghost zone, like a mirror version of itself.
He’s visited the ghostly vision of Gotham so many times, and he avoids the imprint of Wayne Manor like the plague. There are ghostly newspapers that he reads. There are the ghosts of Martha and Thomas Wayne in many of them.
Jason’s haunt connects to Wayne Manor, but it is also the street they grew up in. It is a small brick building with a door that leads to Jason’s room. A ghost knows when someone enters their haunt, it alerts them like a doorbell in the back of their mind. A foreign ecto-signature in a place drenched in your own.
Danny visits it every time he goes into the Ghost Zone. It’s always his first stop.
He tells his parents all of it. He tells them of the ghosts he’s met, of the places he’s seen. And when he feels brave, he tells them about Rath and the terror that his future self brings him. He keeps some details hidden, the ones that he can afford to keep without muddling up the story.
(Rath is a tall, spindly thing, like a funhouse mirror version of Danny himself. He has arms that are much too long and legs that are much too tall, with skinny fingers that extend into claws.He wears his suit the same as Danny does, with it partially undone and the sleeves wrapped around his waist.)
(There is a black hole in his chest that is much bigger than Danny’s own. It takes up his chest cavity and drips the same, viscous black liquid as the tears falling from his eyes. Danny never forgets his voice; a scraping, quiet thing like he’s screamed himself hoarse. Rath has a voice like goosebumps, and it haunts Danny like a bump in the night.)
Danny speaks and speaks and speaks until he can’t think of anything else to speak of. He is tired and sad, and it feels like his heart has been ripped out and rubbed raw again. And yet, he also feels so much better. Like a long heavy weight has been taken off his chest.
Yeah, last summer was hard. His parents walked on eggshells around him, and they forced themselves to unlearn their bias of ghosts. It was more than Danny could have ever dreamed of, and when they felt ready for it, they asked him more about the ghost zone.
He smiles sadly at his dad, “I think fixing the stove can be a priority another time, dad.” He says, watching him wilt and his smile fall. Jack Fenton was always so good at making himself look like a kicked puppy. “I can handle unpacking by myself, I promise.”
His parents still look so unsure, like they want to argue. Danny watches his mom purse her lips tightly, confliction running across her face like a datastream. She takes dad’s hand, squeezing their fingers together despite the droop in her shoulders.
“Oh, alright then, I suppose.” She relents, her hand placing on Jack’s arm. “I guess we could go, we’re just going to miss you so much, Danny.”
Tears seem to have won over his dad, and Jack Fenton sniffs back before he can cry properly. “Our little boy, all grown up.” He says, voice wobbling. It makes Danny laugh, and it makes his heart pang. His smile grows impossibly wider and so much fonder. “You’ve become such a kind, wonderful young man, Danno. We’re so proud of you.”
Danny laughs again, and it cracks. “You’re gonna make me cry, dad.” (He feels a welling of guilt in his gut that he ignores — he doesn’t feel like a kind man. He doesn’t feel like a good one either. Not with what he plans to do.)
His father holds out his arms in hopefulness, “One last hug for your old man before we head out?” He asks, mustering up a smile on his face.
Danny barrels into him, nearly knocking his dad over with an oomph. He’s as tall as him now, but he still feels little in his bear hugs. With arms wrapping around his middle, Danny hugs his father tight and breathes him in one last time.
“Careful there, Danno.” He laughs, patting Danny’s back roughly. “You’ll break my ribs with that ghostly strength of yours!” But he holds on just as tight.
Out of spite, Danny bends back and lifts him off his feet, laughing when Jack tenses up and nearly scrambles out of surprise. His mom laughs with him, stepping back to give them room for the few seconds that dad is in the air.
When it’s his mom’s turn, Danny has to hunch to hug her. Something bittersweet to him as she plants a kiss on his forehead and says that he’ll always be her baby. “Even if you do have that horrid smoking habit.” She adds on with a disapproving eyebrow raise.
Danny turns red in embarrassment, and walks them back to the GAV. Gothamites of all kinds slow to stop and boggle at the monstrous, road-illegal thing that is parallel-parked next to the curbside. In the past, Danny would have died with mortification to be seen with it. Now it just makes him laugh. Before he goes back into the apartment building, he buys a newspaper from a nearby convenience store.
The first thing he does when he gets back up to his room is one: make a mental note to buy a bicycle chain lock for the door. The locks jiggle and there are splinters along the side that show signs of it being broken into in the past. The second thing he does is pull his cigarettes out of his pocket and light one.
Danny starts to unpack with a cigarette hanging from his mouth, placing the newspaper he bought onto the counter. He has a cheap loveseat that he pushes off to the side, and he moves the boxes into the kitchen. It’s a matter of organization that Danny has to think about before he does anything.
It’s as he’s pushing the sofa up against the wall facing the windows that his phone rings a familiar tune: Sam. The phone is fished out before he can think about it and when he stares down at the screen, he realizes it's a facetime call.
He presses answer and walks over to prop his phone up onto the counter. The smiling faces of Sam and Tucker greet him, rather than just Sam. Immediately, Danny grins. “Hey Danny.” Sam greets, smiling a dark-painted lazy thing. From the background it looks like they’re in Tucker’s room. Sam is in Tucker’s desk chair, and Tucker is behind her, leaning against it. “Have you moved in yet?”
Danny pulls the cigarette from his mouth and huffs, a cloud of smoke following his breath. “Yeah! It’s a shithole.” He grins lopsidedly, and his feet carry him off to the side to allow Sam and Tucker view of his apartment. He lets thirty seconds pass, allowing the both of them to really see the rest of the room. And then he steps back into frame.
Sam and Tucker both look like they’re trying not to look judgemental, like they’re trying to hide a grimace that Danny sees anyway with the small turns at the corner of their mouths. He grins wider, mirth filling his lungs. “I know, it looks awful doesn’t it?”
“It’s— it’s not so bad.” Sam says with a strain in her voice, a forced smile on her face that tries to be reassuring. Tucker nods along readily, and he looks just as unsure as Sam does. Danny stifles laughter behind his teeth.
“No, no, it looks bad,” He takes a drag of his cigarette, shaking his head. “You can say it, I won’t get offended. It’s a fucking apartment in crime alley. Of course it looks bad.”
Sam remains silent, a rearing of her stubbornness showing itself. Tucker takes a different approach, and heaves a dramatic sigh of relief, slumping like a weight. “Okay, you’re right. It looks bad.” He frowns, “Sorry, man.”
While Danny snorts, Sam sighs. “Yeah, it looks bad. What even are those stains?” She asks, and both she and Tucker lean closer in tandem to the screen, eyes squinting at the floor behind him. Danny glances at the floor, and shrugs.
“Blood, probably.” He says, and while years in Amity Park have accustomed him to a clean environment, the desensitization of Gotham still remains. Tucker and Sam both make faces and lean away, as if the stain itself was capable of passing through to them. “Yeah, there are bullet holes in the walls.”
“Are you sure it’s safe to be there?” Tucker asks, a furrow appearing between his brows. He adjusts his glasses and leans against the chair. Sam is frowning heavily, and Danny can already see her thinking up of a new way to fix the problem.
“Oh, I never said this place was safe.” Danny tells him cheerily, taking a last hit of his cigarette before placing the dead stick onto the counter. He itches for another one. Instead he walks over to the shelf his parents brought in and starts moving it. “It’s Crime Alley, Tuck. Safe isn’t even in its vocabulary.”
Tucker and Sam look like they’ve both swallowed a lemon.
“But it’s where I want to be right now.” He says, grunting quietly when the shelf is against the wall he wants it to be, near the short hallway leading to the front door. He can push it in front of it if someone tries to break in. “And Crime Alley’s apartments are the only ones I can really afford right now without mooching off my parents, and I’d rather not depend on them.”
He can hear the disapproving hesitance from where he stands. And he ignores it.
Danny walks back into frame, lifting up a box onto the counter. He hums lightly, fingers run over the tape keeping it shut. “Why do you even want to be in Gotham, Danny?” Sam asks, and she sounds genuinely perplexed. Danny stills. “I thought this place only had bad memories for you.”
His blood turns cold, and like a dime being flipped his slow heartbeat fills his ears. “It does.” He replies automatically, before he can think. Shit, shit. He knows that Sam or Tucker would ask that question, and yet he still feels unprepared for it. His heart pulses quickly against his ribcage, knocking, asking him what he’s going to tell them that isn’t the truth.
Danny stammers, “I mean— I just— I guess I felt nostalgic.” He says, and it sounds like a weak defense. He looks away, finding himself instinctively scratching his jaw. A new tick of his when he’s nervous. From the corner of his eye, he sees Sam and Tucker both narrow their eyes at him.
He cannot tell them the real reason why he’s moved back to Gotham. He can’t tell them of the little secret and vow he told himself five years ago, the one that’s been left to fester and burn like an open wound close to his core. The one that, if he thinks too much about it, sends a searing hot electricity through him, filling him from crown to toe top-full of direst wrath.
(Danny was always the angrier one in the duo of Jason and Danny. He was always the one with glass in his mouth, cutting his teeth and tongue so that he could spit blood at the world around them. His knuckles had more blood and bruises on it than skin, once upon a time. All because he couldn’t keep his mouth shut. He has grown from it, that fury has turned to a small simmering candle.) (But sometimes, sometimes it rears its head, and electricity will buzz under Danny’s skin. There is lightning before the thunder, the second before a fist pulled to punch lands, the spark before it becomes a blaze.)
He stumbles over his words, and then sighs long and low, drooping his head. “I… was thinking that I can’t avoid this place forever.” He says, and the best lies always have the truth in it. Because it’s not a lie, not completely. But it’s not close enough to the truth either. “And that maybe if I came back, I’d be able to do something about those bad memories. Make them better or make it hurt less.”
Like wool over their eyes, it fools Sam and Tucker. Their narrowed eyes soften, and Danny feels like a snake is in his lungs as they both adopt their own versions of gentleness on their faces. “Oh, Danny.” Sam breathes out, and the snake squeezes, “Of course, we understand.”
Tucker nods, smiling at him. “Yeah, bro, that’s really brave of you. I know it can’t be easy coming back.” He says, “Maybe you can reconnect with the Waynes again, you always thought well of Mister Wayne whenever you came back from visiting.”
Danny smiles weakly, the gesture cutting into his cheeks like a knife. Perhaps he could. He was still upset with Bruce for hiding Jason’s killer from him. But he doesn’t hate him. Maybe five years ago, he did, when the death of Jason was still fresh in his mind and freshly bleeding in his heart. Now he just doesn’t know what to think of him. He was Batman. Jason was Robin, and the Joker killed Robin.
It would need to be something he’d have to speak to Bruce about in person, he thinks, in order to resolve it. To hear his judgment on it and make an opinion from there. Danny has learned in the last five years, much to Jazz’s smug delight, that talking to people about something he was upset about did make him feel better.
The conversation slips on from there into something more light, more breathable. And while they talk, Danny unpacks. He sets up his bed in the corner of the room, adjacent to the windows, and unpacks his cheap TV and table stand. It’s directly across from the couch, in front of the windows. He puts up knicks and knacks he’s collected over the years on the shelves.
When he puts up the curtains, he notices that more than one frame jiggles loosely. Sam makes a comment on the musty stains permanently dyed into the glass, and Danny talks about getting something to fix the cracks. Gotham winters can get brutal, and even if he can withstand the cold, doesn’t mean everything else in his apartment can.
“Oh, watch this.” He says halfway through unpacking, and pulls out a stick of thick white chalk from a box. “This is something I learned from Clockwork a while back; I think he knew I was going to move to Gotham.” He grins sillily, popping into the camera frame to show them. “I wonder how?”
Sam rolls her eyes, smiling while Tucker huffs. “It’s not like he’s the Master of Time and can see all past, present, and future.” Tucker snarks.
Danny hums lightly, curt like he isn’t sure he believes Tucker, and walks to a piece of bare wall not yet blocked by furniture. He starts to draw on it. The chalk shimmers with faint ectoplasm on the wall.
“Uhh…” Tucker’s voice cuts through, “Are you sure you should be doing that? Won’t you get in trouble for that?”
“There are bullet holes in the plaster, Tucker.” Danny retorts dryly, arching his hand to make a big circle. “I don’t think the landlord is gonna care if I get washable chalk on his walls.” Inside the circle, he inscribes the symbols of the Infinite Realms. “I don’t think he’d be able to see it anyways, he was really old.”
When he is done, Danny steps back to admire his work. It’s not bad, he thinks, for a lack of practice. He tosses the chalk off to the side, it lands on the couch and rolls back into the cushions. Ectoplasm heats under his hand, slowly glowing from his fingertips before stretching down the rest of his palm.
Danny’s fingers press against the wall, into the center of the circle. The result is immediate, ectoplasm is siphoned off his hand and into the circle. It glows, and then swirls. He steps off to the side for Sam and Tucker to watch its transformation. The circle fills with a swirling pool of ectoplasm, like a smaller version of the basement portal, and then it warps and stretches.
It fills out a rectangular shape, shifting like taffy being pulled this way and that, before settling into a solid shape. It solidifies, and instead of a wall there is a glowing purple door, warped in nature and seemingly shifting like a trick of the eyes. He can hear the gentle hum of the zone standing next to it, and can see the carving of the circle in the wood.
He gestures dramatically, grinning from ear to ear. “Ta-da~” He sings, “A door to my haunt! For whenever I feel like visiting it.” He pats the wood, making a strange thunk-thunk sound. “And then watch this.”
Danny touches the circle again, and the door twists and recedes like water going down a drain. The circle flashes bright green, and then fades into nothing on the wall, invisible to the naked eye. “I can hide it whenever I want! So if I ever invite someone over—” which he doubts, “—I won’t have to worry about them asking, ‘Hey Danny? Why is there a creepy fucking door in your studio apartment?’”
He gets a pair of laughs for his efforts, and Danny grins wider.
Sam and Tucker have to end the call when Danny is nearly done unpacking, leaving him alone with only his thoughts and the Gotham ambience outside. There were only a few boxes left, and they promise to call him tomorrow. He tells them that they better keep that promise.
The silence that follows after they leave feels somberly, as if the reality of moving in has finally set in and filled the air with its loneliness. With its change. Finally, Danny lets the strangeness of moving back to Gotham hit him when he reaches the last box, and he stops to take another smoke break to let it settle.
It feels so strange to be back in Gotham, he thinks. He’s all grown up, or almost grown up. He can vote and pay taxes, but he doesn’t feel much older than he was at fourteen. There’s a disconnect that makes him feel sad.
There are cars running outside, driving by. He can only catch glimpses of them, his apartment faces an alleyway. There are dogs barking in the distance, strays he bets. It’s already dark out, and he wonders if he looks out the window he would see the bat-signal shining through the night and staining the permanent cloud that hangs over Gotham.
Bruce would be so disappointed if he learned the reason for Danny’s return to Gotham. But Danny’s not here for him. He’s here for someone far more important. And like that, the simmering anger that has tucked itself into the furthest corners of his heart starts slipping through. His heart has teeth, ready to strike and snarl and bite.
He crushes the cigarette in his hand and throws it away. When he opens the last box, it is with hands that tremble and with a face of stone. With a delicateness he does not feel, he reaches in and pulls a corkboard from the box. On the corner frame is a small, near inconspicuous carving of another ghost rune.
Danny hangs it up on an empty space on the wall, out of sight from the window. It’s plain, and he has nothing to pin to it. He presses the small rune on the corner, pushing ectoplasm into it. Unlike the door, it does not twist and warp and shape itself into something new. Instead it bursts into green flame, eating away at the board and revealing the same thing underneath it, just in dark blue-black-purple.
Now this board, this board Danny has something to pin to it. The newspaper he bought earlier sits abandoned on the counter, and Danny unrolls it with something like viciousness in his chest. On the front page is an image of a damaged street, and above it is titled: “JOKER STRIKES AGAIN, 3 DEAD AND 27 INJURED”
Danny rips out the first page, he rips out every mention of him. His hands shake and threaten to crumple the paper as he turns back to the board, there is hot blood pounding in his ears. There is an impending sense of finally in his chest, like a setting sun giving the stage to a starless night. There is a stern set in his jaw, five years of festering rage rushing forth like a tidal wave, threatening to make his vision swim.
It would be so easy, he thinks, to go out as Phantom right now and hunt the clown down. It would only take a night. All it would take is a night, and then he could sink his hands into the Joker’s chest and rip out his heart where he stood. It would be so easy.
The thought alone forces Danny to stop as he is hit with another rush of fury, really making his head and vision swim. Thorny vines wrap around his throat, making it hard to breathe. He stares at a spot on the wall until the shaking passes.
If he wants to be discreet about this, then he can’t do it now. Even if he wants to. He doesn’t want witnesses. He doesn’t want an audience. He made a mistake, telling Red Hood about his plan. He wasn’t sure what he was thinking. Perhaps he wasn’t thinking at all. But he can only hope that the Hood hasn’t mentioned it to Bruce. He knows it hasn’t been long since they started working together. He hopes that the Hood has already forgotten about it.
He pins the newspaper clippings onto the black-blue-board, and stands back. It’s bare now, but it won’t be forever.
He presses the circle again, and the pinboard reverts back to its original blank state.
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Was I expecting to make a third part?? No. No I was not. I was also not expecting to make an entire google doc filled with summaries for short story ideas about this au that all tie into each other so that way if i DO continue this i have a skeleton pathway to follow rather than making everything up from scratch and potentially cornering myself
you can find this on ao3 or on tumblr 1 2 :)
#dp x dc#dpxdc#dp x dc crossover#danny fenton is not the ghost king#dpxdc crossover#childhood friends au#cw swearing#cw smoking#im calling them short stories bc if i call them chapters i might intimidate myself#fun fact every single chapter will have a crane wives lyric on it i am DETERMINED#i hope yall are subscribed to this on ao3 bc i almost didnt post this on tumblr#the fentons being good parents were a surprise to me too but also i never really planned on them being BAD parents#okay so they appear as negligent in the first post but we'll just call that a plothole#i had the idea that danny was the angrier one out of the duo earlier today and it felt like an epiphany#there's no guarantee of a next part but yk immm kinda hoping there is#on the docs the ending bullet point for this chapter was#'make it feel like a tv show where the seemingly inconspicuous and friendly character has something sinister up their sleeve'#WE know that danny's not inconspicuous in the least he's been thinking of this murder for the last five years. but nobody but red hood know#i had to come up with a in-story reason why danny doesnt kill the joker NOW but my out-of-story excuse is: there'd be no tension otherwise#its about the BUILD UP. Its about the RISING TENSION. Its about KNOWING that danny is planning to kill the Joker but you dont know WHEN#its about knowing that something is going to explode but never knowing when#i made the doc yesterday and spent my entire pluralism for educators class going thru the crane wives albums and looking up the lyrics and#matching them to the *checks doc* 18 short story prompts i have prepared#i am still missing one :((#its the tim and danny story and i have NOTHING PLANNED FOR THEM. i cant think of a thing for them to bond over :(( so i cant match a CW son#even DICK has a story and that was also a surprise#my favorite lines: He was always the one with glass in his mouth cutting his teeth and tongue so that he could spit blood at the world#aND danny slapping his door like a used car salesman and going 'now people wont ask why i have a creepy fucking door in my studio aptm :)'
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Imagine you're Mr. Wu and your weird gay daughter runs away in tears after destroying some unespecified object while yelling about you ruining her life. Because you told her you'd be moving to another state. This is the last time you see your daughter in half a year, and when she comes back, she comes back... wrong. She's wearing a light leather armor, a fur-lined cape, and a green flower crown. She has two long scars, one alongside her spine and the other along her chest, the tissue around them covered in burn scars. Doctors say she shouldn't have survived. Doctors say she didn't. Yet she's right here, in front of you, hospital gown clinging to her small, fragile, trembling frame. She fidgets with her hands. Getting her to stay still has always been difficult, but now it seems impossible. She won't let go of her phone. She's always texting her two friends. When you take it away, she gets anxious. You always knew those damn phones cause kids to act weird, but your kid having a panic attack seems too extreme, even for her. Then again, she's always been odd. Nowadays, she wakes up crying and screaming almost every night, and you realize she's been stealing her phone from your bedside drawer every night to text her friends, returning it before you wake up. You catch her once and decide to give her that damn phone back. It's the only thing that calms her down, as if she were a baby with a pacifier. She spends her last weeks in LA clinging to her friends, having sleepovers and playing her weird board games with them. Everytime they drop her back at her house, there's an excessive amount of hugs and tears. But the moments when they call her, or when she leaves to meet with them, or when they show up at their door to pick her up... those are the only moments in which you see her happy. One of her friends, the rude and disobedient one, came back with a big scar on her face. She's been acting a lot nicer, though. The other one too. She acts a great deal more adult now. You doesn't know what happened or where your daughter went. She won't tell you. But you can tell this friendship is the only thing keeping her afloat right now. Maybe you know, deep down, that no one else would understand.
And then you decide to move anyway because fuck her amirite
#amphibia#marcy wu#my posts#so like what if marcy moving away was a proper tragedy#what if things were WORSE for her#what if *smashes marcy with a ROCK*#i realized that.#despite my parents being shitty (just found out literaly today my mom had doctors give me the wrong treatment because she assumed my body#would react the same way as hers. instead of doing what literally every doctor told her to do. now i need to get it fixed)#they still asked me how I felt about moving away to a different province when in like. 8.#like. oh right. this is something parents generally ask their kids about. instead of uprooting their entire lives out of nowhere.#marcy's situation is complicated in a narrative sense because#in order for her arc to work her departure must be dictated by morally neutral forces outside of her control#but her parents' decision seems very shitty with the context we're given. you COULD give context that justified their actions#i.e have them explain that they really do need this if they want marcy to go to college or some shit like that#but then it stops being Marcy vs. Forces of Nature#and it becomes Marcy vs. Her Dad (and she has to accept he's right in this one)#the show is clearly for a Marcy vs. Forces of Nature conflict (in this case it's the inevitability of change)#and in order to keep the antagonistic force abstract you CAN'T have her dad be a proper character#BUT. as a consequence -> Marcy has to give into the ''#the ''natural order'' which would be accepting her parents' power over her as natural and inevitable#it's not even like... accepting her parents are right or anything. just that their o#that their complete control of the situation and marcy's total powerlessness is natural and inevitable#and that's tragic! from a more watsonian ñerspective#perspective* : Marcy is sent back to her shitty parents and she just needs to learn how to deal with it away from her support system#the solution imo would have been to change the motivation behind her family moving away so that it's outside her parents' control too#it really has to be completely inevitable. i can't think of an alternative reason but it's just what it#it's what would fix this problem imo#it's a simple fix really
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thinkign about how alone and unloved morty was for all his life and rick was the first time anyobdy ever put such an amount of intense attention and dependency onto him . and rick had a whole new family and losing them made him stop seeing the value in other people as a whole and morty was the one and first thing that woke him up
#really long Tag rant down there#one of the most Things Ever about them to me is how morty barely even understands just how much rick loves him. more than anything#and its something ricks done on purpose hes made sure of it#because hes so weak he cant handle it#them being together is agony in avsolutely every way and sense but also theyre the best part of eachothers lives#morty because nobodys payed attention to him quite like rick has and all the exciting space adventures and rick just cause. he literally#just likes him thats it. and he never knew it#also i was thinking of this earlier. one of the reasons season 1 is soooo good to me is cuz you get to see morty grow on rick in real time#stuff like that moment where morty walks through the door and rick is instantly at the sight of him SUPER excited and he goes hey!!! but#then he clears his throat and goes Hey trying to pretend like this dumb scaredy kid isnt becoming his favourite thing hes ever known day af#er day#and goddamn night shaym aliens. in that moment where he realised morty had been fake the whole time i rlly wonder what he was thinking and#how he felt. like. oh man this is messing with me way too much this is Bad#and then he got drunk over it and yknow. that . is it post credits. i think. that scene#n literally At the Very beginning he was tired n drunk n stupid thinking like man fuck this im gonna blow this place up and do what prime#did to me. But he brought morty with him Even just at that point it flashed in his mind and he absolutely could not bear to let morty die#Breathes in#im rewatching in October bc anniversary month. i literally can’t wait im so actually impatient i considered just doing it today So hard#odiespeak
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5 min. post it pen sketches of Joker Out and Jere :3
#I made these at group today#just felt like doodling#and there was a pen and post it's at the ready#for obvious reason they are not perfect#(pen is hard it erase after all :'D)#that said I love how jere came out especially OVO#jure maček#bojan cvjetićanin#nace jordan#jere pöyhönen#käärijä#kris guštin#joker out#mine#my own art
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since ive already been pretty open about this and im not afraid to whack a hornets nest i'll go ahead and say it: if you were raising a kid in a pseudo-apocalyptic setting and then you found out that said kid was going to be the one to defeat the eldritch god that you have tried to defeat for half your lifetime and could never manage. that she was going to FACE that eldritch god it was prophesied. you would teach her how to defend herself and how to fight. like god i am not saying hero's trauma from it wasn't justified because i do think the twins took it too far but the initial process of training her makes so much more sense if you approach it at the angle of "this kid is going to do something we've been trying to do since we were twelve and couldn't manage and we might not even be there to help her so we have to make sure she doesn't die in the process" and not "we're going to make her fix our mistakes" it makes sense. goes along with lark's running theme of not being strong enough in the moments that matter and wanting to make sure nobody else ever feels as helpless as he did when walter was injured. goes along with sparrow desperately tempting fate with normal's name- not because normal was an accident, but because sparrow never wanted to lose even one kid to the doodler and it was a fervent, desperate wish to let normal get to be normal
#dndads#kasey rambles#sorry im feeling especially spiteful today#cause again i do think. the twins get the least amount of nuance from the fandom#tell me how yall were just fighting for glenn so hard and then you turn around and tell me that the twins are evil monsters skahsdkfhkdhsf#like idk. it makes sense to me!#if hero was supposed to fight the doodler but they dont know WHEN it would happen. theyd train her early#make sure it was a fight she could win#and thats also why shes NOT in the chosen one position anymore#she wanted to leave and now that she could reasonably defend herself should she be threatened. its fine!#if they really only wanted her to fix their mistakes she would not have been allowed to leave. lmao#again this isn't to say that she wasn't traumatized from the experience like.#i think the twins shouldve been honest with her and there shouldnt have been so much pressure#but i get why they felt the need to make sure she could handle herself in a fight so early on#also like. this kind of thing happens in so many post apocalyptic settings its not even uncommon#yall just dont see this world as being post apocalyptic and it shows LMAO
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I'M BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!!! Okay so honestly I have been very very inconsistent over the years with just disappearing for periods of time due to various things 😂 So it probably seemed pretty normal to most people.
But it felt different on my side, so I'm excited to be back in business. I took a month long hiatus! 31 days of not drawing digital art. Its not something I talk about on here? But I've been suffering from some serious long term Art Burnout for.... a really really long time. Long enough that I should've taken a break probably years ago. It finally got so bad that I could barely draw. I was scared to do it (cause it always looked "bad" in my eyes [i'll come back to that]) and doing it was exhausting and disheartening.
I talked it over with somebody and realized that the fear and anger and frustration I felt towards my own artwork was uh. Not Normal or Healthy. And I finally committed to taking a real break for once.
I still drew a little bit by hand? Traditional art has always felt like it has lower stakes for me (i don't often share it online, and sometimes I don't even share it with friends) so I did some of that when I felt like it. But Digital art was completely off the table.
I had put such an immense pressure on myself to make my digital art perfect, to make as much of it as quickly as possible to satisfy something. It wasn't fun anymore. I'm proud of what i've made over the years! But for a long time now the stuff I've been making was made while hating every second of making it. With some rare exceptions.
I hated my art! It was a combination of Perfectionism, taking in too many external expectations, and the burnout. If you hate doing something its kinda hard to love it even when you want too lol. It wasn't "Bad" in the sense that the quality was low and it was ugly! It was "Bad" in the sense that it was unhealthy for me to keep doing it at that point in time.
I'm glad to report though, that with my hiatus officially over as of Wednesday last week: I am once again. In Love. With doing art, and being an artist :)
I put off taking a break for years cause I was scared that taking a break would mean that I would never achieve all the things I wanted to do with art. I was scared it was a stupid and lazy thing to do that would mean I'd never achieve my dreams. And Also even though I kinda hated drawing, I also loved making art. Its a weird duality that I can't even really explain??? I hated it but I also loved it. I wanted it but I also wanted to run from it. It wasn't until I was more mature and had more clarity and insight (and unfortunately also until the problems got worse) that I was finally able to let go of those fears and just do it.
And I'm really really glad I did. It was everything I needed. And I hope to strike a better balance in the future with art. Taking more breaks when I need them, or just when other things have my attention like reading or Video games (Some star rail got played during this time xD)
From the outside things probably aren't going to be that different?? At this point I don't really have any sure plans to post anything I've been drawing since my Hiatus ended. I might or I might not xD I'm still a hobbyist artist taking things at her own pace, but I hope that it shows how much happier I am :)
Whumptober 2023 is being officially put to rest by this post btw! I was in major burnout when that event started, and I'm ready to just, move on from all the past expectations I'd shoved on my shoulders. If I feel like filling any of the prompts or going back to any of the ideas I'd come up for it I will! But I'm not going to worry about doing it unless the desire sets in. Thanks to everybody who's been so kind to me throughout my time on here as an artist! Ya'lls tags and screaming and kind words, the fanfic, the asks and the responses? Its been fantastic :) You guys have made me laugh, smile, and cry tears of joy. I hope from here that things only get better and sweeter! And if I have bad days again, that's okay too.
Here's to 2024 and whatever it may bring ya'll :D 🎉🎉✨✨🧡💜
#isa screams#long post#gif#flashing#i think? Lemme know if I'm incorrect on that one alksdjfLKSJDJDSG#I don't normally talk this much so its kinda strange?#its kinda nice to be more honest about this stuff though#I'm a bit more of a private person so its hard to find the balance between wanting to discuss things openly and honestly#but with the fact that I don't owe the entire world an explanation for everything I do#its a tricky thing#but today I felt like doing this and I think that's okay#if i regret it I just won't do it again alsdjLSDJLFJSGSDG#thanks if you read this! I appreciate it!#I'm a pretty smalltime artist relatively. So sometimes it feels as though it doesn't mater what i say or express.#But hm. I doubt its really that simple or bleak#And if I don't respect myself then well. Who will right?#And I want to learn how to be happy with how little or how much I get#part of the reason I've done so poorly mentally as an artist is chasing numbers and outside praise instead of asking the harder questions#am i happy with what i do? what I make? Who I am#I'm going to probably be working on those questions and problems for the rest of my life.#But thats okay. Thats not a bad thing :)
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Cutting this whole bit and most of the servant's lines and Bard explaining how to play cricket get the fuck ouuuutttt
#i have been waiting for them all season#they're THE characters on the show they're just as much regulars as the midfords i don't understand#i already had a bad feeling with how they didn't make up a house episode and that one scene they stuck in at the end of the first episode..#...of sebastian serving tea the house felt sooo finny-less and then finny's scenes are cut too and mey rin's and bard's shitty food-#that's the whole reason tanaka had to get the other food from sebastian and it made me cry hearing a new seiyuu#if this were 2008 they would have inserted them more scenes the servants are ciel's family!!#i am already pretty disappointed with how they have changed some little things but this hurt my feelings the most today#again. we only got 11 episodes out of this arc and they felt like they should scrap all of their scenes??? but lord druitt gets to talk????#i shouldn't have to wait until germany to see them if they're canonically right there!! cricket is dry as hell!!#it's some of what i said before where they're animating the humorous parts of this season so off?? and this gets cut altogether??#AND AND since they're animating germany i know everyone gets to show up soon but why act like they don't matter now#i also don't like how bard got animated :(#kuroshitsuji#my kuro posts#phantomfam
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I think as we grow up, we have to be really conscious of romanticizing the world we grew up in in order to scorn how the next generations are growing up.
Nostalgia isn't inherently bad, but especially in political spaces, be very wary of this idea that there is an Ideal Past we must Harken Back To.
It sucks to feel left behind, but such is the human condition. It isn't bad to feel nostalgic, but that doesn't mean that these new generations are inherently "lost" and "need to be saved (by you)", and I think that is very important to remember and try to be conscious of.
#politics#'the world you grew up in no longer exists' frankly... GOOD!#the world i personally grew up in was scary and lonely and traumatizing. no kid today should STILL be growing up like that#the whole 'nostalgia as a poltical means' is rooted in this idea that...#1) we all grew up in a hegemony 2) we all turned out the same 3) the way we grew up had more privileges afforded to us#and i personally like nostalgia! i like watching videocamera videos from 2005 and looking up super specific shit#but nostalgia does not a good world make#INSERT UMBERTO ECO'S FOURTEEN POINTS ON FASCISM#(though i don't always think nostalgia can lead to this in a political sense there is a fine line)#be very mindful of what motivates nostalgiaposting#is it because people miss childhood and how 'simple' it felt? or is there a different reason that motivates this type of posting?#are you romanticizing childhood to the point you are not remembering your childhood /at all/ but the *idea* of it?#and honestly it is SO jarring when my peers are nostalgic because it's like... we aren't even that old!!#it comes across like... the world is hard and it's getting harder and so we cannot chnage and must wistfully think of the past...#...and to me it comes across as almost... doomerist in how end-stage feelings of nostalgia and hopelessness seen#i feel compassion for the impulse to feel like your old life is over and you need to grieve it...#...but certainly that isn't the younger generations fault? especially because WE are now the ones rasing them and we still yet live#(even at our completely decrepit age of not even close to a mid-life crisis (sarcasm and lighthearted))
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Said hello and goodbye / Do you feel alright with the days gone by / I'll never waste my time, I'll never say goodbye...
#em draws stuff#em is posting about the wizard of oz in this the year 2023#<- organizational tag in lieu of a more findable one since I do not wish to discover an internet soup of some sort at this time#this is due to sanguinity's tags on that 'kissing someone up against a wall but the wall is jeff' post#'and now I can finally check these three off a to-draw list they've been on for years' says guy who now wants to draw them Again#designs here are mostly based on the john r neill illustrations with a few of my own twists but I'd like to try out my own take on them too#I drew this mostly in one probably eight-hour sitting and for several reasons maybe I should not have done that#but I am too proud and pleased to have any regrets on that particular front#now I think maybe I shall fall over. but alas I have got tasks. no falling over for the emmothy today :|#caption lyrics are from 'might quit' by bill wurtz since it felt right for some inexplicable reason
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The point! of Much Ado About Nothing! is that once Benedick and Beatrice figure themselves out and admit to each other that there exist feelings! they are together for the rest of the play! There is no misunderstanding or Separation(tm)!
#anyway i got out of work in time to see anyone but you today#some parts were very funny#some were very cute#and some parts pissed me off for the reasons i mentioned in the body of the post#isabel.tex#much ado about nothing#also there were some lines said by halle (the hero equivalent) that felt like they were meant to foreshadow wedding day drama#and it just#hhhhhhh missed opportunity
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i was feeling very eepy and not up to completing tasks so i took some adderall and let myself lay down for a nap with the thought being that the adderall would kick in and prevent me from sleeping for too long and then id be all ready to do shit when i woke up and folks. ima be honest the hypothesis did not quite play out
#me groggily emerging two hours later#i feel like the nap ate the adderall lmao#the intention was just to kind of lay down for like twenty to thirty minutes oops#txt posts#personal#oops#i hate having a body it is so senseless#the other night i slept for like. four hours before waking up super early for no gd reason#and i was like “its fine ill nap later its not like i have anywhere to be”#did not nap but also? energy was overall fine all day felt no urge to nap#last night slept a full eight hours and today im like#omg so eepy#need nap... sleepy...#and im like BRUH WHAT DO YOU WANT
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I live here now thanks
#Ashton Irwin's hairy cleavage is something that can be so personal#5sos#5 seconds of summer#ashton irwin#ashton#andy deluca 2023#kh4f post#the only reason i have eyes today is so i can look at this picture#i am convinced#everything about this has me GONE#by the power of AFI's jaw i am HEALED#depression cured chronic illnesses eradicated anxiety quelled#as Doctor Taylor Alison Swift once said: 'i don't wanna look at anything else now that I saw you'#I'm fine it's fine don't worry about it#🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡👹👹👹👹👹👹👹😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭#this is the most feelings I've felt in like a month ngl
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........creachure
#cats#his eyes are always so big and weird he no longer looks like a cat anymore sometimes.. in a way...#it's hard to understand.. complicated vibes on this boy#his summer sprawl (laying flopped out on the floor weird because of the heat)#I AM still trying to get some costumes done and also post another poll advtnure so I can finally finish it lol#the weather this month has just been soooo.... There was the heat wave and then after like 2 days of coolenss where I was like 'ah! finally#I can be productiv!' but just as soon as I had recovered from the heat.. it got hot again ghhhh#currently sweating inside. I actually had to leave my doctors appointment early today because I was just so so warm from#sitting in the car and the fac tthat half the buildings still do not have their air up very high and etc. and I felt so nausous#and flushed and started to get back and stomach pains for some reason.. Which I guess is good in a way to further confirm to doctors that#I Have Something Wrong With Me lol (most normal people should not be this heat sensitive I think) but is also still a little stinky#because I still payed a copay for the fulla appointment time but cit it short by leaving 15minues early.. grrr#ANYWAY. It seems like recently it's just hot all the time but it will ocasionally tempt you with a cool day of reprieve BUT don't let your#guard down! because as soon as you start to think 'hey things are getting better! :0' the sun will be like NO actualy. scalding temperature#be upon ye..#Which of COURSE. I would rather have hot weather with little breaks in between than just constant hot weather. 100% definitely.#but it just always makes me sad because I get my hopes up lol.. JUST as I've recovered from the past heat and am So Ready To Start#On All My Things now That I'm Not As Sick And Hey Maybe It's Even Cool Enough To Do A Costume! .. my hopes are dashed#.. woe and so on and so forth. . Which I am stil managing to get a few things done but just.. not the things I really WANT to do (costumes.#sculptures. edit videos. etc. ).#anyway.. look at son.. If nothing else I still have lots of cat photos.. my sole productivity offerings to the internet online world
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tbf i do think the story could have given the wol more of a connection to it/the antagonist outside of solely through wuk lamat and that probably would have alleviated a lot of ppl’s problems with it
#they did this in hw and sb which is how you still feel like the main character while aiding someone else#at least that’s how it felt to me lol#i don’t think it’s bad to want to be the mc in a game where you have been it since the beginning ahdhdjsk#i need a text post tag#like the only reason you fight sphene is bc she’s like we calculated you’re the best fighter#dawntrail spoilers#also i did think we were gonna get more erenville and krile so many times in the first half i was like can i take a little trip with them 🥺#only to get sent to wuk lamat again ahdjdk but i do like her. i can see why she would be annoying tho#like if you’re not into characters whose political campaigns are ‘happiness’ agshdjskdk#idk there’s a lot of ppl who aren’t into super happy upbeat characters and i think that’s fine. i’m not one of those ppl but i get it#also i don’t think the only way to do this would be like oh a foreigner exploring an exotic world OMG TACOS#contrary to some popular posts i’ve seen lmao. surely we can be more creative than that#also there was a ton of OMG TACO in it already#anyway. ahdjfkks#one day i’ll make a post about things i really did enjoy#maybe i should think about that today
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i hate that the solar eclipse just now serves as a reminder that nobody loves me.
#🍂 arian's shit#IT WAS SO BEAUTIFUL AND NOTHING HAPPENED. but yeah#i will always think of the solar eclipse i witnessed and think about that#two people one of them my friend the other i thought i could consider my friend but HE PROBABLY DOESN'T GIVE A SHIT.#they both talked and did their things and laughed and they are so damn close to each other it almost made me cry and reminded me that#it was such a profound moment too when i realized what was going on#they were in another world that didn't have me and i get that. i do. they have known each other for a year and i abruptly showed up#two months ago and one of them we are getting close she likes me around#at least i think#the other one he is nice he is supposed to be like this he is nice to everyone that is who he is#so what is happening: he is completely indifferent to me. most he did was remember my name and face. but he is nice.#i like them both so so much it almosg does hurt when i stood there awkwardly almost like i was intruding#and i realized that i have never not been close to anyone#no acquaintances all the friendships i have had they sre the reason why i live and i know that they live for me too#we have known each other since kindergarten. they held my face and cried and told me that i was love when i was leaving for the last time#they love me. i am sure of it.#but now i don't have anyone near whom i do love. people don't love me. i used to be love.#it also hurts that i am Average Person In The World#i am not funny. i do not have unique quirks. i do not have a single talent.#all i am good for is saying the wrong things all time.#even in my old life i was someone. someone who isn't the same as the person who saw the solar eclipse today and felt all this#i was the idiot. I WAS THE IDIOT. i was the writer person.#i don't feel like any of these things now. they had a thing in common: their capacity to love and be loved.#i love very easily but i am not an easy person to love.#vent post#god this is such a small little thing i am the most pathetic thing in the world#feel free to scroll away don't even read this shit#arian contemplates his universe
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