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risarchives · 2 years

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fated star

in which freelancer looks back on their childhood. one that has long since been taken away from them.

tw: unattended trauma, childhood longing

( + non-canon backstory!)

How much of their family would they ache for before the stars suffice?

The gibbous moon shines down in silver through the window of their bedroom, and a star is holding them together. Gavin. His face is peaceful as he watches the screen, the projector running just overhead, floating atop the bed with magic. They wanted to watch a movie together in the bedroom this time instead of the living room.

The film being displayed on the projector screen shows a father and his child. They're fishing. Neither have gotten any fish yet, but they’re still trying. Gavin then whispers, “We should try fishing.”

Freelancer nods but hears nothing save for the film; the father speaking and his child looking up at him as though he’s the most prodigious man they've ever lived with. Maybe he is. Freelancer longs to feel that way again.

A memory of a nostalgic—or perhaps, haunting—moonlight illuminates their vision.

The film does not stop playing, Gavin remains watching with his arms around them, but the Freelancer is back in their childhood home, stargazing with their father as the moonlight throws shadows of the street ornaments underneath their open window against the pathway.

Young Freelancer stares at the night sky, occasionally putting their arms up as if reaching for the stars.

Young Freelancer is nothing but a memory.

“I know it’s too early for this, but,” their father starts. He looks solemn but affectionate, and his child is looking up at him as if the stars are in his hands. “When we’re apart, at last, as all children and parents would inevitably be, I promise to send you those stars from where I would be. Or one, to make it easier for me.”

Freeelancer giggles despite knowing it's impossible and looks up at the night sky and back again at their father, “Or a constellation! They’re really pretty. I don’t care if they’re small!”

Laughing, their dad says, “Those are just stars compiled together, you clever little angel.”

They loved the stars more than anything.

Their father talked of death at that time. That parting, though, was moved at an earlier time and given the name estrangement.

A caress to the cheek, and they’re back in the present with their promised star in the shape of a lover. Gavin. They have their star, and also their little constellation, Caelum. Sadly he’s not here; he’s looking after his other charges right now, but Gavin will never not be enough. Their heart is most peaceful when they’re around him.

“Something wrong, my love? Talk to me,” he says, looking down at them and wiping their tears away. “We can stop the movie and… just hold each other, if you’d like?”

They shake their head. They feel cheated sometimes courtesy of the fact that he can easily feel their emotions stirring, and that it’s hard to hide from him. But then again, they want him to see them laid bare and naught but honest. “Don’t… I just—remembered something.”

Gavin presses a kiss to the crown of their head. “I feel you, my love, always. In every part of me. You can always talk to me about it.”

They stifle a sob as Gavin presses another kiss against their temple. He feels every single ache they're feeling, and he loves them a little more after every tear spilled.

You know the story, they think, and I trust you with it.

Gavin, of course, doesn’t hear that, but he knows. They’ve blurred into one another so much that even unspoken thoughts are well-loved and accepted.

He tightens his hold on them; an action through which he can wordlessly promise them safety, love, company, and the world, not matter how impossible.

He would have punished the world for how much cruelty it has bestowed on his Freelancer if he’d been given the power and the chance, but he also would offer it to them in the blink of an eye had they asked for it.

Stranger turned friend turned lover is putting their trust in Gavin— he’s happy, he’s loved. A star has fallen for a good reason after so long and so much agony, and it's shining in the brightest shade of yellow.

A star is holding Freelancer in his arms— they’re safe, they’re loved. Only they wish the familial tragedy didn’t exist, or, at least, ended on a painful yet peaceful farewell. Something like death— something like mercy. Not abandonment, not repulse.

The inevitable parting, the promised star, the promised constellation. Out of all their unanswered wishes, those three came to life.

Gavin, though, was no mere wish. Gavin was a dream. Gavin was good things and good memories and tenderness offered with nothing asked in return.

“I love you,” he breathes into their hair, then another kiss to the temple. “Let me cry those tears with you, my love….”

Company and love for evermore— a promise carved in the dark of the night sky. With Gavin, there will be no abandonment, no parting.

Despite the fact that they will be out-lived by that promise, they’re at peace with the thought that a part of them would live perpetually with it— Gavin. A fragment of pure love personified.

Gavin, Gavin, Gavin. Always Gavin.

How much of their past would they ache for before their lover suffices? A large portion of it, yes— but so long as their lover lingers, so will contentment. They would always choose a love unfailing over a tragedy invariant.

#redacted asmr #i am full of emotions #and i am full of love for them aaah #this is basically a backstory hc for the freelancer #hc that they love stars! <3 #.... and angst #again #are we surprised #redacted gavin #redacted freelancer #redactedasmr #works

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glambots · 2 years

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Just finished watching "Sun's Upgrades" like:

#I AM FULL OF EMOTIONS #JANKYBONES WHY MUST YOU DO ME LIKE THIS #the one voice-acted clip #of sun just getting the shit beaten out of him #hurt me so fucking bad i was ready to start flipping shit in my room #EURGH ARGH OOUGH AAAAAUGHm

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ondt · 2 years

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I'm such a romantic I might actually spontaneously combust if I don't experience a dramatic movie romance soon

#I AM FULL OF EMOTIONS #SPECIFICALLY LOVE AND ANGER #hi

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blackbutler-readerinsertsandjunk · 2 years

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OH YES ALSO ON THE MENU TONIGHT:

circus babes (literally just pick one or all of them tbh it fits them all) and their S/O set to “Dare to Love Me” by Avril Lavigne OR “Demons“ by Imagine Dragons

leave me be we are FEELING in this Chili’s tonight

#mod post #playlist #I am full of emotions #... and soon to be full of chicken but like it's mostly emotions #also you know what would actually be hilarious is one of the ACTUAL LITERAL DEMONS set to ''Demons''#let me do the sad and the funny at the same time that's my brand

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eeveebo0w0 · 1 year

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#toh #toh spoilers #the owl house #watching and dreaming #I AM FULL OF EMOTIONS

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yuzuparfait · 1 year

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Journal #7

Hey, Blog!

We're halfway through the semester! I'm honestly surprised that I've lasted this long with the amount of assignments I have due every week, but hey! A win is a win either way!

Despite being swamped with assignements, I wanted to take a break by checking out some art and fanmade items by artists that I adore on twitter. Last year, I missed out on the opportunity to purchase an absolutely adorable plushie from an artist because I was saving up for a new phone to replace my old one. They say if you listen hard enough, you might just hear the collective cries of broke uni students (me especially) from a distance.

Just look at it! It's so cute! Every day I live in regret for passing up the opportunity to buy it.

The old phone of mine was a hand-me-down oppo from my dad and was barely chargable by the time it reached its fifth birthday. When I'd finally gotten my phone and still had some savings left over, I decided to head on over to the artist's shop to purchase the doll, only to have my dreams crushed when I discovered that they were out of stock, with no signs of ever returning since it was a limited run 😭😭😭

Sometimes when I'm just chilling out, the memory of this crosses my mind and I am hit with an indescribable feeling of devastation that practically brings me to my knees.

Now you might be wondering, "Okay, so what?"

Well, dear lurker, when I checked the store this week I saw that the plushie was finally restocked again! However, the sudden rush of happiness I felt was soon destroyed by the realisation that the listing was not to sell the plushie, but instead to clear out the leftover keychains and badges that were sold alongside it in the past. The initial high and subsequent crash made me understand why people call these feelings emotional rollercoasters.

On a less boring note, I desperately want to watch Suzume in the cinema!

The director of the movie, Makoto Shinkai, has directed many amazing films in the past, and all my friends who have watched Suzume have been raving about it for weeks. Honestly, being a university student means you barely have a social life outside of classes because of how little time we have to do anything but our assignments.

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I probably won't have the chance to watch the movie in the cinema since I'm constantly busy with work, but I'm still content listening to the beautiful score and soundtrack from the movie online. I literally have had the movie's main theme on loop on Spotify for the past two weeks, and stuck in my head for even longer before I finally gave in and started listening to it on repeat to satiate my brain's desires.

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The song scratches an odd itch in my head that I never even knew I had. There's just something about the singer's voice accompanied by the piano and choir in the background that really brings it to life. Even when I don't know what purpose it serves in the movie itself, and when or why it plays, it feels like heaven to my brain, especially during my 6 AM commute.

Who knows, maybe if I do luck out and finish my assignments earlier I'll get the chance to watch it next week! If it turns out to be as great as my friends say it is I don't think I'll be able to shut up about it in my next entry.

That's all for now, 'til next time!

#JENTRY #I am full of emotions #and stress

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greenglowinspooks · 6 months

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(DCxDP) The obligations of a rogue versus those of a parent (Pt. 4)

—

Tw: descriptions of body horror, Dr. Crane has PTSD and Does Not Realize, Crane has an actual panic attack and just doesn’t care, the Riddler makes one (1) sex joke about Batman

Will be crossposted to AO3 eventually

(Pt. 1 here) (Prev here) - (Pt. 5 here)

(Masterlist here)

—

Dr. Jonathan Crane is in his lab, the acrid scent of chemicals filling the air, and his hands are shaking.

Danny’s health, for the first week that he had him, had been steadily improving at an extremely quick rate. However, his healing had begun to stagnate. Danny said that it was because his body had run out of ectoplasm, and that while there was a lot of ambient ectoplasm in Gotham, he needed a stronger type in order to heal.

And so, that led Dr. Crane here.

He had stolen the research notes from the Penguin years ago regarding his experimentation on him.

(He quite vividly remembers the sound of bone creaking and groaning as it twisted, lengthened. The squelching of shifting tendons and muscles, the strange fabric-like tightening of skin. The feeling of going from man to monster, of losing all claim to his humanity.)

Danny had called him Liminal, part ghost. He had said that he was transformed by, among other things, a kind of synthetic ectoplasm.

Danny needed ectoplasm.

Crane had the research notes. He had every ingredient necessary. And yet, attempt after attempt failed.

The chemical smell burns his nose. His hands tremble.

Dr. Crane is not afraid.

He doesn’t feel fear anymore. He’s tried to, many, many times, but nothing has worked. And yet, his hands are shaking still.

(The horrifying sensation of vertebrae pop-pop-popping along his spine, growing and lengthening. The unbearable itching beneath his skin as toxin glands begin to form. The feeling of his teeth sharpening and elongating, of his skull growing, of his vision changing and brightening. The awful stench of chemicals. The awful stench of ectoplasm.)

Jonathan takes careful note of his shaking hands, his blurring vision, his accelerated heart-rate and shallow breathing.

(Human hands. Human vision. Human heart and lungs and organs.)

He takes note of them, but he does not let that distract him from the task at hand. Danny is not a chemist, but Jonathan is.

The boy knows enough about chemistry in theory, but he won’t go anywhere near Crane’s equipment. He seems to have some sort of intense fear of laboratory settings, probably developed during his stay with the GiW, and Crane is willing to respect that, if only because he cannot afford to lose him.

As such, Crane is the only one qualified to do this. And, unfortunately, if he isn’t successful the boy may very well die.

He heats the chemicals to precisely the right temperatures, adding each one to its correct container.

Dr. Crane thinks of the Scarebeast, that creature born of cruelty and greed and a sense of superiority. That creature which he tries to ignore is a part of him, that can never be removed. A damage which cannot be undone.

He pours the contents of a small beaker into a larger flask, watching the liquids swirl together. The stench in the air is becoming closer and closer to the one burned into his memory.

Crane’s whole body is wracked with unpleasant sensations. It’s truly unfortunate, he thinks, that despite his mind’s lack of fear, his body still reacts so harshly.

Jonathan’s eyes wander, eventually settling on a purple and green card sitting innocently on the corner of the table.

Right.

Even if they wiped out the GiW tomorrow, and even if Danny could survive without ectoplasm, he would still be in danger.

Crane has to get him back to good health. It’s the only way he can be sure that the boy can defend himself properly.

The solution in the flask begins to foam, and Jonathan does not hesitate as he adds the final ingredient. He pours the mixture into a new container, capping it and placing it into a freezer set to -40 degrees.

Hopefully this time he got the timing right.

Jonathan tries to relax, the ventilation in the room slowly but surely clearing the familiar smell from the air.

He thinks of the letter.

Surely, he thinks, that man can come up with some better material for his jokes. Or, at least something new.

Same old threats, same old attempted poisoning.

Aiming his threats at Danny, though, that was new. New and utterly unacceptable.

Scarecrow did what he had to.

He doubted that his solution would last forever, of course, as with that man it never did. As such, he would prepare both himself and Danny for the inevitable moment that his choices came back to bite them.

However, for the moment, they were safe. Danny could rest and recover, and Jonathan could figure out a plan to minimize possible damages.

Jonathan is no longer shaking.

He’s exhausted. This is his fifth attempt today, and each one leaves an unfortunate strain on his mind and body.

With a sigh, he settles himself into his seat at a nearby desk, opening up his computer and logging his most recent attempt. He still has to wait for it to chill to know if it was successful, but he can always update the logs later.

Once he’s done, he stretches, joints popping loudly as he walks to the freezer.

When he sees the results of his tireless work, the ghost of a smile flits across his face.

Success.

Jonathan picks up the jug of ectoplasm and leaves the lab, which is in all actuality the basement of the new apartment that he moved himself and Danny into after receiving the note. The scrappy old woman who was his landlord had told him that as long as he paid her five hundred dollars up front, she would let him set up in the basement without any questions or cop calls.

And so, the most expensive apartment in the Narrows was his.

At least, he thought, the distance between the basement and the apartment was short enough that Danny didn’t have to sit in while he was doing his labwork.

Jonathan knew that he didn’t exactly have a strong grasp on the concept of ‘lab safety,’ proven by his built-up immunity to almost every toxic chemical he’d ever encountered, and he doubted that Danny should be around such an environment.

He was back to the apartment quickly, not bothering to hide the self-satisfied smile on his face. Danny is sitting in his armchair, trying to read one of his books. Danny looks up, ready to greet him, when he sees the jug in his hands and pauses.

“Is that..?”

“Synthetic ectoplasm,” Jonathan says proudly, “I found the Penguin’s research notes and decided to recreate it, since you said that you needed it to heal properly. I’m not sure if it’ll work the same as what you usually have, but I hope it’s helpful all the same.”

Danny is standing, now, and looking at Jonathan with a strange look in his eyes. He looks, Jon thinks, like he’s about to cry.

Then Danny is rushing forward and wrapping his arms around Jonathan, his scrawny form shaking.

Jonathan is, for a moment, horrified. Did he do something wrong somehow? Why is this child, who’s so afraid of touch, hugging him?

And then he hears Danny’s voice, and he knows that it was all worth it.

“Thank you,” he’s mumbling, over and over, “thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you so much.”

“Of course,” Jonathan says softly, because what else can he say?

The boy cries in his arms for a while, and Jonathan briefly wonders what his life must have been like before, if a person like him can be seen as a comforting figure.

Then, Danny pours himself a small glass of the synthetic ectoplasm, putting the rest into the small fridge which had come with the apartment, and he settles back down, sitting in the armchair once again.

Jonathan sits opposite of him, and they chat with one another as Danny drinks.

Danny talks to him about the stars and tells him about different spaceships, and Jonathan makes sure to pay attention and ask the boy questions.

He doesn’t miss the way that Danny lights up every time he asks him something about his interests. He’s so passionate, so smart, a trait that he seldom sees outside of his fellow rogues, and Jonathan wants to encourage that.

It’s…nice. Peaceful, almost.

And then the front door flies open, because Jonathan isn’t allowed to have nice things.

“Jon,” a familiar voice rings out, “what the hell?!”

Danny is frozen in place, clearly terrified.

Jonathan heaves a sigh, turning to face the nuisance who’s entered his apartment.

“Eddie,” he drawls, “to what do I owe the pleasure?”

Edward’s face is red with anger as he invades Jonathan’s apartment.

“Oh, I don’t know! Maybe it’s the fact that you sent a bunch of rogues a cryptic message and then dropped off the face of the earth for two weeks! I was worried, Jon!”

Jonathan hums in acknowledgement.

“I didn’t think it was that cryptic,” he says, picking up a book in order to pointedly ignore the Riddler.

“Oh, of course you didn’t, you straw-stuffed hickory dickory dickhead. I swear, you’re always—” he pauses, finally having noticed Danny sitting opposite of Jonathan, “—who is this?”

“My apprentice,” Jonathan replies, dreading the upcoming headache he was no doubt going to develop from Edward’s company, “he’s helping me hunt down the GiW. His name is Danny.”

Edward gasps dramatically.

“You—an apprentice?! And you’re letting him sit in the old man chair?! You don’t even let me sit in the old man chair,” he wails, draping himself over the headrest of the couch with a flourish, “Jonathan, I thought I knew you!”

“Edward,” Jonathan says, “get out of my apartment.”

“Oh my goodness, this is incredible. You’re becoming the bat!”

“I am not becoming the bat, Eddie, now get out.”

Edward has a shit-eating grin on his face as he waltzes over to Danny. Danny, who seemed terrified when he first appeared, is now looking at him with obvious amusement written all over his face.

“I mean, look at him! The hair, the eyes, the scrappy build. If you put him in one of those traffic light vigilante costumes, he could easily pass as a Robin!”

“I’m not doing this with you today, Eddie.”

“Riddle me this, Jon: I am a treasure hidden inside of a chest. You can break me, or steal me, or give me a rest. I can flutter, or pound, or attack, or drop, but if you don’t have me, you’re certainly fucked. What am I?”

Jonathan pauses for a moment before he groans, dropping his head into his hands.

“Eddie.”

Danny sits still, a confused look on his face as he repeats the riddle silently. Then, his face lights up in delight.

“A heart!”

“Jon, I like this one,” Edward says with a smile, ruffling Danny’s hair, “you are correct! A heart, something that I wasn’t aware that our dear Jonathan had!”

“Eddie, stop.”

“No, no,” Edward says, “I was worried about you, you deserve this. I mean, you even missed girls night! You never miss girls night!”

“Girls night?” Danny asks, absolutely delighted.

“Oh, of course,” Edward says, sprawling over on the couch, dangerously close to just laying in Jonathan’s lap, “we have it once a week. I’m invited because of Selina and Jon’s invited because Harley likes him.”

“And what does girls night entail, exactly?”

“Eddie,” Jonathan groans, “please.”

“Well,” Edward hums, “we usually paint our nails, or watch a movie, or gossip about the other rogues, and occasionally, we tell each other about any ‘encounters’ we have with Batman,” he says, raising his eyebrows up and down.

Danny’s jaw drops.

“Edward, shut up,” Jonathan says, an irritated tone in his voice that wasn’t there before.

“No way,” Danny says, “I thought that Batman, like, hated you guys or something. You mean he actually..?”

“Oh, the Bat is much like a bottle of liquor or a cheap cigarette, in that he was made to be passed around.”

Danny chokes on air.

“Edward Nygma,” Jonathan hisses, getting out of his seat and looming over the man, “get the hell out.”

Edward pales.

“Leaving, leaving!” Edward says, dashing away from Jonathan. He pauses, turning to flash Danny a quick smile.

“Remember Danny, I’m your favorite uncle! Not any of the other rogues, me!”

With that, he leaves, the room falling completely silent.

And, as per usual, that silence does not last.

“You full-named him?” Danny asks gleefully, “and it worked?”

Jonathan just sighs, sitting down on the couch and rubbing at his temples.

“Please, don’t take anything Eddie says seriously. He’s a moron.”

“Dr. Crane, please let me come to girls night with you,” Danny pleads, his eyes sparkling, “I promise I won’t embarrass you.”

Jonathan groans.

“Of course you won’t, Eddie will do it for you.”

“Come on, please?”

“I think we’re a bit busy with the GiW at the moment,” Jonathan snaps. He pauses as he notices the crestfallen expression on Danny’s face.

This boy is going to be the death of him.

“Perhaps, though, when all that is taken care of…”

Danny cheers, grinning wildly, and Jonathan is not at all relieved to see him happy again. Certainly not.

The rest of the day is relatively normal.

Danny works on trying to get information from the GiW database while Crane refines his his fear toxin, both preparing for a raid on the GiW base they located in Gotham.

It was only a temporary base, nothing of note, but there was a chance of discovering more bases through it, and that wasn’t something either of them were willing to give up.

Still, something like this would take time. Rushing would only lead to failure.

…

Late in the night, long after Danny is fast asleep in his room, Jonathan pauses.

The GiW are not the only threat out there. They aren’t the only threat to him or to Danny. Perhaps it could be helpful to reach out to someone with greater resources than himself.

He sends a quick message to Red Hood.

Hopefully, he thinks, everything will go smoothly.

—