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#but doesn't have the skill
inkskinned · 7 months
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the thing about art is that it was always supposed to be about us, about the human-ness of us, the impossible and beautiful reality that we (for centuries) have stood still, transfixed by music. that we can close our eyes and cry about the same book passage; the events of which aren't real and never happened. theatre in shakespeare's time was as real as it is now; we all laugh at the same cue (pursued by bear), separated hundreds of years apart.
three years ago my housemates were jamming outdoors, just messing around with their instruments, mostly just making noise. our neighbors - shy, cautious, a little sheepish - sat down and started playing. i don't really know how it happened; i was somehow in charge of dancing, barefoot and laughing - but i looked up, and our yard was full of people. kids stacked on the shoulders of parents. old couples holding hands. someone had brought sidewalk chalk; our front walk became a riot of color. someone ran in with a flute and played the most astounding solo i've ever heard in my life, upright and wiggling, skipping as she did so. she only paused because the violin player was kicking his heels up and she was laughing too hard to continue.
two weeks ago my friend and i met in the basement of her apartment complex so she could work out a piece of choreography. we have a language barrier - i'm not as good at ASL as i'd like to be (i'm still learning!) so we communicate mostly through the notes app and this strange secret language of dancers - we have the same movement vocabulary. the two of us cracking jokes at each other, giggling. there were kids in the basement too, who had been playing soccer until we took up the far corner of the room. one by one they made their slow way over like feral cats - they laid down, belly-flat against the floor, just watching. my friend and i were not in tutus - we were in slouchy shirts and leggings and socks. nothing fancy. but when i asked the kids would you like to dance too? they were immediately on their feet and spinning. i love when people dance with abandon, the wild and leggy fervor of childhood. i think it is gorgeous.
their adults showed up eventually, and a few of them said hey, let's not bother the nice ladies. but they weren't bothering us, they were just having fun - so. a few of the adults started dancing awkwardly along, and then most of the adults. someone brought down a better sound system. someone opened a watermelon and started handing out slices. it was 8 PM on a tuesday and nothing about that day was particularly special; we might as well party.
one time i hosted a free "paint along party" and about 20 adults worked quietly while i taught them how to paint nessie. one time i taught community dance classes and so many people showed up we had to move the whole thing outside. we used chairs and coatracks to balance. one time i showed up to a random band playing in a random location, and the whole thing got packed so quickly we had to open every door and window in the place.
i don't think i can tell you how much people want to be making art and engaging with art. they want to, desperately. so many people would be stunning artists, but they are lied to and told from a very young age that art only matters if it is planned, purposeful, beautiful. that if you have an idea, you need to be able to express it perfectly. this is not true. you don't get only 1 chance to communicate. you can spend a lifetime trying to display exactly 1 thing you can never quite language. you can just express the "!!??!!!"-ing-ness of being alive; that is something none of us really have a full grasp on creating. and even when we can't make what we want - god, it feels fucking good to try. and even just enjoying other artists - art inherently rewards the act of participating.
i wasn't raised wealthy. whenever i make a post about art, someone inevitably says something along the lines of well some of us aren't that lucky. i am not lucky; i am dedicated. i have a chronic condition, my hands are constantly in pain. i am not neurotypical, nor was i raised safe. i worked 5-7 jobs while some of these memories happened. i chose art because it mattered to me more than anything on this fucking planet - i would work 80 hours a week just so i could afford to write in 3 of them.
and i am still telling you - if you are called to make art, you are called to the part of you that is human. you do not have to be good at it. you do not have to have enormous amounts of privilege. you can just... give yourself permission. you can just say i'm going to make something now and then - go out and make it. raquel it won't be good though that is okay, i don't make good things every time either. besides. who decides what good even is?
you weren't called to make something because you wanted it to be good, you were called to make something because it is a basic instinct. you were taught to judge its worth and over-value perfection. you are doing something impossible. a god's ability: from nothing springs creation.
a few months ago i found a piece of sidewalk chalk and started drawing. within an hour i had somehow collected a small classroom of young children. their adults often brought their own chalk. i looked up and about fifteen families had joined me from around the block. we drew scrangly unicorns and messed up flowers and one girl asked me to draw charizard. i am not good at drawing. i basically drew an orb with wings. you would have thought i drew her the mona lisa. she dragged her mother over and pointed and said look! look what she drew for me and, in the moment, i admit i flinched (sorry, i don't -). but the mother just grinned at me. he's beautiful. and then she sat down and started drawing.
someone took a picture of it. it was in the local newspaper. the summary underneath said joyful and spontaneous artwork from local artists springs up in public gallery. in the picture, a little girl covered in chalk dust has her head thrown back, delighted. laughing.
#writeblr#warm up#this is longer than i wanted i really considered removing that part about myself and what i went thru#but i think it really fucking bothers me that EVERY time i talk about being an artist#ppl assume i just like. had the skill and ability to drop everything and pay for grad school.#like sir i grew up poor. my house wasn't a safe space. i gave up a FREE RIDE TO LAW SCHOOL. for THIS. bc i chose it.#was it fucking hard? was i choosing the hard thing?? yes.#but we need to stop seeing artists as lazy layabouts that can ''afford'' to just ''sit around and create''#when MANY - if not MOST - of us are NOT like that. we have to work our fucking ASSES off. hard work. long and hard work#part of valuing artists is recognizing the amount we sacrifice to make our art. bc it doesn't just#like HAPPEN to us. also btw it rarely has anything to do with true talent.#speaking as someone with a chronic condition i hate when ppl are like u have it easy. like actively as i'm writing this my hands r#ACTIVELY hurting me. i haven't been posting bc my left hand was curled in a claw for the last week#this isn't fucking luck. after a certain point it's not even TALENT. it's dedication & sacrifice.#''u get to flounce around and do nothing with ur life'' is a narrative that is a direct result of capitalism#imagine if we said that about literally any other profession.#''oh so u give up 10 yrs of ur life to be a doctor? u sacrifice having a social life and u get SUPER in debt?#u need to work countless hours and it will often be thankless? well i wish i was that lucky''#we should be applying that logic to landlords ONLY#''oh ur mom and dad gave u the money to buy a house? and all u did was paint it white and rent it? huh.''
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radiance1 · 4 months
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So, Danny was effectively homeless.
His parents are dead, his sister is dead, his friends are dead. Hell, even Vlad, Vlad kicked the fucking bucket which, Danny genuinely never expected.
Vlad was supposed to be his nemesis, his main bad guy, the guy Danny's supposed to constantly pull everything out against just to win. Not to mention how significant his presence was.
A part of him assumed that Vlad would always be there and him not being there and knowing he won't be there ever again is... weird.
So you're probably asking, how exactly did this happen?
Well you see, the nasty burger exploded, for one thing. Then when he was under Vlad's care both of them got outed for being ghosts to the GIW, which was technically Danny's fault, since he did something extremely stupid.
Somehow they got caught, and life under the GIW was not great in the slightest. The constant experiments, the dehumanization (Sometimes Danny doesn't even register himself as human), the amount of times their feelings were utterly disregarded, and so, so much more.
The GIW found Vlad to be more dangerous than Danny, even if he lacked the raw power Danny had his intellect made him dangerous and for good reason. For it was because of said intellect that Danny managed to escape.
Vlad didn't manage to do the same.
Danny hated reliving that memory. Because Vlad was a villain, evil and self-serving, he shouldn't be sacrificing himself for his literal greatest enemy to escape in his stead (Not that Vlad would say Danny was his greatest, he would probably say it was the person who refused him to buy the packers). It was just, so utterly stupid and out of character for him.
So, Danny managed to escape, Vlad died. He couldn't even say anything about Dani because she got destabilized in front of him, in front of both of them actually. It hurt to watch and, he didn't quite know the specifics between Dani and Vlad anymore, but he thinks they were getting... better.
Not how it was when Dani was first created, but Vlad was working on mending it. Which, honestly, just makes everything worse.
Danny isn't powerless but it's a damn close thing. He's far weaker than he normally would be, and he's injured on top of that too boot, his powers can barely work and it's just so stupid.
So here he was, hiding out in some random sewer because he didn't want to take the risk of being on the surface and he hates the smell, but he'll take that over being experimented on again. So, Danny spends most of his time in the sewers of this place called Gotham, he even managed to make his own little area with a couch he stole and a few other appliances that were thrown out.
He lacked a Tv or laptop, but he found a yo-yo! Most of his time was spent practicing various tricks with his yo-yo.
It got boring fast. But it was really the only safe thing he could do when waiting for his powers to come back. At least he's a god at yo-yoing now.
It was while doing various tricks with it in some random sewer path, that a literal, goddamn crocodile-man just splashed up from sewer water and half-laid on the edge, since his lower body was still in the water.
Danny looked at his yo-yo, the crocodile, and then slowly stepped on over and gently poked the crocodile dude.
He made a sound, so he was alive!
Finally! Someone to appreciate his godly yo-yoing skills!
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kerryweaverlesbian · 7 months
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Sam: hey Cass! I made you a drivers licence to go with your truck. Kind of a tradition between me and Dean that when you first drive by yourself you get one with your real name. Well, I guess two people isn't much of a tradition, but, here! I know it's a bit late but, y'know, there was a lot going on.
Cas: thank you that's very.............[squints at the details] the name is wrong.
Sam: Oh, well, you needed a surname and I thought Winchester would be-
Cas: No, that's fine. But my name is Cas.
Sam: Yeah, I put Cass.
Cas: No, it's Cas. With one S. My name is Castiel. Can you not- do you not know how to spell my name? Sam, if you need to borrow Jack's reading books, you just need to ask him, he'd be happy to help you.
Sam: Wh- dude I know how to spell! But we've been spelling your name as Cass-two-Ss this entire time. That's how you spell Cass!
Cas: We? As in, both of you? And - not Bobby surely? He knew how to spell my name?
Sam: Look, look, look I can prove it. [Pulls out his Blackberry that he's kept since 2009 and scrolls up a text chain with Dean] Look, "CASS said we're all boned." That's like two days after he met you.
Cas: I- this is...ah I understand. You faked this. You're doing a prank on me. Some sort of Gabriel-esque unreality game. I will not be fooled again, as I was when you showed me the video of "house hippos". Well played, Sam, but not well enough.
Sam: I'm not- urgh, [calling out] DEAN
Dean [yelling back from the kitchen] YEAH?
Sam: HOW DO YOU SPELL CASS? ONE S OR TWO?
Dean: HOW LONG HAVE YOU KNOWN HIM, MAN? IT RHYMES WITH ASS. TWO.
Sam: see? And Dean gave you that name so really, he's the authority. You're Cass.
Cas:
Sam:
Cas:
Sam:
Cass, resigned: our partnership has been built on a foundation of misunderstanding and foolishness. But still we must endure. Thank you for the card. Samm.
Samm: You're welcome. Hey. Did you just feel like a, reverberation in the universe? Like something small but significant has changed?
Cass: No.
Samm: Ah, that's a relief.
Deen: HEY EVERYBODY, COME GET SOME LUNCH.
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originalartblog · 8 months
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Do you understand how much Dazai dancing means to me
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nelkcats · 10 months
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Application Rejected
When Danny adopted Cujo he saw him as a puppy, which was a little sad considering the implications. He always thought Cujo was the only one who had stayed, the only one whose soul had persisted. He thought Cujo was alone.
He was wrong. Not all adult dogs and puppies stayed, of course. But many had. Cujo was simply the only one who decided to return to the world of the living, probably because of his obsession with his toy.
One day Cujo showed him where they were all hiding; Danny knew that those dogs had not stayed for the same reason as Cujo, they probably had a myriad of different reasons, and that was fine.
The problem was that excluding some of the adult dogs (that obviously were fine on their own and didn't care), there were many puppies similar to Cujo running around in need of affection and he couldn't adopt them all (besides, Cujo would definitely get jealous). And while many ghosts agreed to take a couple, it wasn't all of them, so Danny did something extreme.
He held an adoption fair in Amity, which was a smashing success. He just forgot that a lot of people in Amity...were usually traveling, and the ghost puppies would follow.
Then, a few days later when a scowling guy showed up (he obviously wasn't part of the general Amity Park population) and demanded a "bright green" puppy, Danny said no and refused his application. He couldn't trust someone with no knowledge with a ghost dog. Although he did offer him a course to learn about their care.
Damian Wayne was offended with his overall assessment. He was obviously the right person to care for one of those pups. So he set out to prove that to the boy in front of him, without hesitation.
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spielzeugkaiser · 10 months
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Been feeling the 'Jaskier upset with Geralt' angst train lately if this prompt interests you
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I read the word 'angst' and instantly went on board- honestly Jaskier deserves to be angry with Geralt. What always makes me go *chef's kiss* in those scenarios is that Jaskier is upset, but he doesn't want Geralt to be hurt! He always looks out for him 🥺🥺 I made Jaskier and angry-crier, because I haven't tormented my man enough. Also Jaskier being able to actually show how upset he is and Geralts self worth issues of 'distancing himself when he thinks he isn't wanted' FIGHT-
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canisalbus · 4 months
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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 6 months
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Gearing up for the stat boosts
MDZS Disco Elysium AU Part 3 (Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 4)
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(ln8 spoilers) jinshi thinking except for my godly looks i am just average and then his smartass goes and kills around five birds with just one brand. someone whose status is so high that even his name can't be said by anyone except the emperor jinshi branded himself with the crest of the empress vowing loyalty to her assuring her he doesn't wants to take the place of her son. one-upping his "bro" with this who refuses to let him leave the line of succession wouldn't let him become a commoner doesn't wants to let him become a servant to the royal family. only slaves get branded and if this ever got out there will be chaos in the court. gyokuyou tho considers jinshi like a brother and he did swear loyalty to her but if she ever tried to cross his family her clan's brand on his body would be enough to prove her as an adultress which would be bad for her and her clan.
and jinshi did this in front of these two people and maomao so now she is the only one who can see him naked and the emperor cannot order him to marry anyone which was something that was definitely gonna happen had he not done what he did. as a bonus he gets to spend more time with maomao after a long time and he did all this while saying the exact words: empress gyokuyou, your enemy i shall never be in front of maomao reassuring her because she once muttered i don't want to be an enemy to empress gyokuyou and he had heard her but before he could tell her that he had no intention of doing that either he couldn't because of the lishu incident. one of the major reasons maomao hadn't accepted her own feelings for jinshi one of the obstacles he promised to remove for her. even though he doesn't even know that maomao's concerns about her becoming gyokuyou's enemy had to do with his birth secret his true status. that no matter what he is the rightful successor. something jinshi himself isn't even aware of and yet without knowing that he did this to deal with it all in a single way most preferable to him: masochism
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forgettable-au · 3 months
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If it's possible-
Put them both on a skateboard. Who lasts the longest.
Oh
Papyrus
Definitely
Maybe he's not used to being on a skateboard but he's determined to succeed and also he's definitely more balanced than wingdings (and if that all fails, well... he can fly... so he could maybe levitate there a little lmao)
Wingdings is extremely clumsy (even without properly starting this comic I already have evidence lmao):
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Like,,, yeah
He WILL try to get out of the skateboard and fall on his back
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felixakranken · 2 months
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Okay. So. I see y'all are taking things a bit too literal.
My thoughts on the whole "Why did Jack think Felix did something to the kids" take I'm seeing a lot now:
First off, Jack was concerned about Felix's safety as well. You could tell from the tone of the voicemails. His first priority was his kids, though. He's not in the wrong for his focus being on his children instead of the adult who's supposed to be taking care of them.
Jack doesn't automatically assume Felix has "done something" to his kids. I don't think for one second that Jack actually thinks Felix did anything intentionally. His voicemails gave no indication of that. By the time he arrives at the house, he's scared and most likely has a gut feeling that something has happened. He knows his best friend. He knows if something has gone wrong, Felix will probably be too scared to confront him. That's why he's begging him to tell him.
Plus, he didn't jump to any conclusions, his kids have been gone for three hours well into the night since Jack said they were meant to be home. Any parent who actually gave a shit about their kids would begin to panic by then. No calls are being answered, and now he goes to the house seeing no one's there. He's desperate. He's rambling by that point because he's terrified. He even starts jumping to denial, trying to convince himself it must be some bad prank.
Just because he says "Felix if you did anything to those kids, I'll fucking kill you." Doesn't mean that he thinks Felix did something intentionally, its just how a scared parent would speak to the adult he trusted his children's safety with. "if you did anything" means if the kids got hurt under Felix's supervision, it's just Jack placing the blame on him, not him thinking Felix actually did something to them.
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starry-bi-sky · 4 months
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clone danny's accident in the clone^2 au
Im thinking about clone^2 danny's accident in this au. he doesn't have his halfa powers in this au. He has his scary eyes and the ghost sense and the ability to see ghosts - kinda takes up a psychopomp role with his ghost cases - and enough ectoplasm to trigger the ghost defenses in his parents' house. But he doesn't have his ghost powers or his ghost half. He's just very strongly liminal.
And im just mmmmm thinking about how that came to be. When I originally made the clone danny au back in the summer i couldn't think of how he had his accident without putting him inside the portal, and I couldn't put him inside the portal and have it turn on and then just say "oh! he doesn't have any powers. he got hit with the full concentrated power of the sun a dimension with just a scratch"
like - like i can't do it. i just can't. i need some plausibility in my aus or i hit road blocks and can't continue (see: my jason variant au and why that took so long to post). but i was at work today thinking about clone^2 au and it hit me like a lightning shot. I think said in the original clone danny post that maybe he got electrocuted by the on button on the outside of the portal. But i was never really satisfied with that answer - it felt too placeholder-y to me. too simple. Less plausible to me than I liked.
so, solution: he still gets shocked by the portal outside, but its from a wiring issue that he spots outside of the portal. My first thought is; the portal had a wire that was unplugged. His parents, essentially, forgot to plug it in. Or maybe in all of their excitement they accidentally unplugged it and didn't notice. It just sounds like the right amount of cartoonishly silly that the Fentons are known for. "We put a second "on" button in the inside portal" -> "we forgot to plug it in"
Danny notices it while he's showing Sam and Tucker around the lab and the two of them are checking out the portal. Something caught his eye from the corner and while Sam and Tucker were talking, he went over to investigate. If this were canon, this would be just before Sam tells him to put on the hazmat suit and go into the portal so she can get a photo (iirc). (So he's currently in reg clothes)
And im imagining it as slightly off to the side. Its two black cords - an extension cord to the outlet and then the cord to the portal. and danny crouches down over it, frowning. his eyes follow the cord to the outlet, and then the cord to the portal, and he picks both up.
'did they forget to plug it in?' he thinks, turning his head to look at the portal's entrance. and logically he knows he should probably put the cords down and tell his parents, let them handle it since they have the expertise for this stuff. But...
his eyes draw back to the plug. it's just a plug. it'd be fine if he plugged it in, wouldn't it? surely, it'd be fine. he thinks about it for a moment.
he plugs it in.
immediately, the energy that had been building up slowly through the wires of the portal - the latent ectoplasm in the room being funneled through whatever tech his parents used to make it - goes through the cord. Like a dam bursting. In a flash, the portal turns on with a worrying bang.
At the same time, Danny is hit with a near-lethal amount of electricity. While not as agonizing as being inside the portal, danny still mentally checks out with pain. and he blacks out. when he comes to, he's laying on his back, still in the lab, with sam and tucker kneeling over him. they're talking - probably yelling, with panicked looks on their faces.
He can't hear a thing they're saying, his ears are full of the overly rapid, irregular beating of his heart and the pounding of his blood. His chest hurts like he's having a heart attack, and he grasps at his shirt as his breathing comes in short, labored.
"Hospital" he wheezes out, and sam gets up and sprints out of the lab upstairs. everything else feels like a blur - his parents and jazz are by him - his parents completely ignoring their swirling, working portal, someone's calling 911, danny's being loaded onto a stretcher with an oxygen mask over his face.
danny gets discharged from the hospital a week later, and sick leave from school for another two. his parents refuse to allow him back into the lab, stating it was too dangerous, and their work comes to near grinding stop to watch over him. It's honestly kinda sweet, but the hovering is annoying him - stubborn, independent teenager that he is. When he gets back to school he's still relatively sat out for phy.ed - he's been getting random heart palpitations (which had been at its worst when he was still on sick leave) and what the doctors think is a strange case of arrhythmia. Although Danny insists that he's fine - he's breathing, alive. Nothing feels wrong with him.
Then one day in class, Tucker turns to him to say something - a joke -and yelps - "your eyes!"
Danny on instinct turns his head to the window, frowning. And in the faded reflection, his eyes are burning shade of green like that of the portal. He blinks, breathing in sharply, and they're back to the his old bright blue.
Unfortunately, they're in english class, and the entire room was staring at them. "Is there something wrong, Mr. Foley?" Mr. Lancer asks from the front. Tucker is still wide-eyed and in shock, and he looks quickly between Danny and Lancer.
"I- no, um- Danny's eyes- they- were, um..." He looks panicked, confused.
Danny steps in, and leans over to Tucker. "I think he just spooked himself, Mr. Lancer." He says, looking frontward with his brows furrowed. "Sorry, it won't happen again."
Mr. Lancer looks unconvinced, and suspicious, but he lets it lie. "Are you feeling alright then, Mr. Fenton? Do you need to see the nurse?" It wasn't a secret to the school or student body that he'd been to the hospital from a lab accident - and that it'd resulted in heart problems that he was recovering from.
Danny grins at him, and pounds his chest lightly, "I'm fit as a fiddle, Mr. Lancer. No heart attacks here." He jokes, and leans back into his seat. Mr. Lancer stares, eyes squinty, and then returns to the lesson.
It keeps happening. Danny's eyes turn green at the most random of times, and the three of them begin wittling down what was causing it. In general, Danny's eyes were turning green whenever he was engrossed with something, or when he got emotional - when he was laughing, angry, upset, anything. Sometimes it resulted in heart palpitations, sometimes it didn't.
his ears were hurting too, aching, like when they were cold. Danny wakes up one morning and spends twenty minutes in the bathroom turning his head left and right - his ears were beginning to point. Sam thought it was cool - Danny just thought it was concerning.
He was seeing things too - apparently. He struck up a conversation with someone on the street once - a strange looking man who looked terribly pale and wore old clothes. He looked delighted to be talking to Danny - and then Sam and Tucker walked up to him and asked who he was talking to.
("What do you mean? I'm talking to him.") ("Danny, there's no one there.") ("What?")
After multiple instances of this, they configure that the accident had given Danny some sort of ability to see ghosts.
("So you're meta now?") ("Mm... I don't know. That doesn't feel right.") ("Oh come on, that basically fits the name to a tee!") ("I know, but I just- it doesn't feel right to call myself meta.") ("If you don't like meta, why not just call yourself liminal? Since the portal is supposed to access the afterlife and it gave you powers to see ghosts.") ("Huh, good idea, Sam. Liminal it is, then.")
And as time goes on - and his parents begin to catch and experiment on ghosts - danny adjusts to these weird new abilities. It's not so bad, he supposes, its just some creepy eye magic and a ghost sense. He can live with that, and no one needed to know. He could go back to being normal - right. ...Wrong.
Do his parents really have to catch ghosts?
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plus additional sketch that i made at like 3am last night because i needed to draw it down -- aha ignore the inconsistent drawing ability that i have. i'm more of a writer than i am an artist.
#dp x dc#dpxdc#dp x dc crossover#dpdc#clone^2#dpxdc crossover#danny fenton is not the ghost king#dp dc#dp x dc au#dc x dp crossover#danny fenton is a clone#danny's accident in the clone^2 au#clone^2 danny before damian's arrival#danny having arrhythmia from the ghost portal - or what the doctors think is arrhythmia. him having health issues from the accident is#interesting to me but not something i think i'll get into too much other than the aforementioned heart problems. mostly bc i dont think#i'd be able to properly showcase it#also im a little embarrassed by my art skills but i just dont draw often so its about as good as im gonna get with a sheet of paper#i can do like. front poses really well but i struggle so much with drawing a head that i like that doesn't fel juvenile or amateurish#so i just gotta keep practicing lol. and find a tutorial that works suppose.#14yo danny's hair being shorter prior to when damian meets him >> its still longer than it is in canon but shorter than it will be.#i think i accidentally gave him a tim haircut. oh well. hair is hard and practice makes improvement#depending on where my motivation is at i may or may not make another post about danny finally becoming phantom in clone^2#half tempted to add a prompt tag to this because mAN do i wanna talk to people about this au and other potential stuff that could happen#like how people will take a prompt and interpret it differently than the person next to them. i love talking about different ideas of#the same thing.#does the comic imply there was something compelling danny to check it out and plug the portal in?.... maybe.
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guardian-angle22 · 6 months
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Colson Baker (aka Machine Gun Kelly) | December 2021
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lexosaurus · 1 year
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alright folks danny is 14 and never has had a job. he ate at the Nasty Burger like every other week and went to the movies and did other teenager-y things. but my dude's never had a job.
how tf do we hc he's got the money to do all this stuff then?
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spacedace · 8 months
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Had an idea, thought I'd make it a prompt, 3k+ words later realized this wasn't a prompt anymore but a ficlet 🙃
Anyway, here's the first almost 2k of Talia being a good parent and deciding to not go with either Bruce or Ra's and go off and do her own thing and raise Damian and oops she got attached to Jason while checking in on Bruce and saved him from dying in Ethiopia. & now has 2 sons lol
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When her Beloved and her father demanded Talia make a choice, of who she would choose, she didn't hesitate.
She chose neither of them. She chose her child. She chose herself.
Outwitting both Ra's al Ghul and Batman was no simple feat. They were both brilliant, relentless and with endless resources at their command. It was why their clashes were as devastating as they were. Immovable objects and unstoppable forces the both of them. If there was something they wanted, it was something they would have.
But not her.
They would not have her.
She had her own networks, her own people, her own keen intelligence and sharp cunning. It took time - time she really didn't have - and a great deal of pain and loss, but she slipped them eventually. Shrugged off the shroud of who she had been - who she was made to be - and stepped confidently into her new life.
Her son was born nine days after her freedom had finally, fully been assured.
He was small and perfect in every way. Soft and warm cradled close to her chest, unblemished by the cruelty of the world as he slept soundly in her arms. Even as exhausted as she was after such a long labor, she couldn't bring herself to sleep. Her attention narrowed down entirely on his every quiet breath, his downy soft hair, his round peaceful face.
In the weeks that followed his eyes would shift and change from a newborn's blue to her own green. It would take years before she could know if he inherited any of his father's features, but that was fine. He was hers and hers alone.
She named him Damian.
In another life she would name him with her father in mind. That her son would rise as Heir to the Demon and conquer the world. That he'd stand as ruler of all.
In this one, she named him with hope in her heart that what he would master was his own life. That he would never be forced to bow to the will of anyone else. To be made to act as servant or puppet. Let him tame his fate into something good and kind and happy.
She did her best to give him the life he deserved.
Lavished him with all her love and affection. Gave him everything he could ever want or need. The friends she began making for herself - not just trusted allies, but friends - laughed that she would spoil him rotten. It was probably true, but she didn't have it in her to care.
Her son would have the childhood he would have been denied if raised raised in the home of either of their fathers. Her father would have demand harsh lessons and frightened obedience and impossible standards. Damian's would have tried - she knew her Beloved would have tried - but his heart would always be for his city first and all else, even his children, second.
Talia kept tabs on both of them, covertly. Ensured she always kept a healthy distance from anything that involved her father or his people. Gathered stories of her Beloved's exploits to share with her son when he was old enough to hear them.
It gave her insight on just what choosing her Beloved would have meant. Reassured her that while not choosing her father had been the right choice, choosing her Beloved would have been the wrong one.
Bruce Wayne was a good man. Brilliant and driven with his kind heart and admirable goals. Breathtaking in his skill and ability.
Disappointing in his parenting skills.
Talia knew she was lacking as a parent herself. That her own upbringing had left its scars and that try as she might she'd undoubtedly end up doing the same to her own child over the years. But she always pushed herself hard towards improving, in making herself better for the tiny boy that she loved more than anything else. And she felt satisfied that in the very least that when presented with options on how her and her son's life would be, she'd made the one that was best for Damian.
Not the life of an assassin or a vigilante, but the life of a child.
A child who was taught some of the skills of both the worlds she'd turned her back on, admittedly, but only ever for his own protection. Damian was safer knowing how to hide, how to escape, how to fight. She had done her best, but there was always the looming threat that they might be found one day. She needed to be sure he was ready, if that time ever come.
She didn't teach him the way she was taught.
When her son fumbled or failed she gently corrected him. Walked him through what he'd done wrong, how he could improve. Made a game out of the experience so that he came running up to her on toddling feet with bright eyes begging that they have a lesson. His excitement and delight in it all made him a better student then her fear and desperate need for her father's approval and affection.
There was a day she caught sight of him, all of four years old, tiny face scrunched in a look of concentration as he practiced the form she'd taught him the day before with his small, wooden practice sword. Some of his father's features lingered at the edges of his face, but he'd deepened his resemblance to her by picking up her mannerisms and expressions. Her son, going through the same steps and motions she had when she'd been his age, little body wobbling as he turned to fast before plopping on the ground with a tiny oof.
Talia had small silver scars on the back of her hands, so thin and so old as to nearly be invisible anymore. They burned all the same as she recalled herself stumbling in nearly the same way. Stomach churning as she remembered the terror she'd felt as her instructor had snatched her up by her hair and drug her over to a low table, holding her hands in place with a massive hand. The way she'd bit her lip hard enough that her mouth filled with blood as he struck her with the thin lash, knowing that if she cried the punishment would be all the worse.
Damian only blinked his big green eyes and scowled the same way she did whenever something of minor importance didn't go the way she wanted it to. Then he saw her standing there in the doorway watching him and his face lit up, bright as the son and just as beautiful as he jumped to his feet and darted over to her. Tiny hand clinging to the loose fabric of her pant leg as he begged her show me again Mama!
It was moments like that where she knew beyond any shadow of a doubt she'd made the right choice.
Her father would have broken her brilliant, kind hearted son. Would have done to him what was done to her to forge Damian into a weapon.
Her beloved...
He would never hurt her son like that. Not the way her father and his loyal followers would. But she couldn't ignore the fact that Damian would still be hurt all the same under his father's tutelage.
Talia knew the man she loved well. Adored his strengths, but was not blind to his flaws. He kept his heart well guarded, hidden behind imposing walls of silence and razor wire of words he didn't truly mean. Still kind, but horribly distant when it came to those he cared for most. It shielded him some, perhaps, but it left those who loved him feeling lost and alone.
She saw how Dick Grayson had grown over the years. Tall and clever and lonely and bitter. Fighting for independence, for acknowledgement, for his father to speak words of love and respect. Things Bruce felt but almost never said unless he thought things were dire.
She saw too how the heavy weight of her Beloved's priorities weighed up on his second son.
Young Jason Todd who saw magic in the harsh world he'd been drawn into and desired to be the protection for others that he never had growing up. She saw much of herself in him, though he faced the world with far more hope than she had at his age. He was a bright boy with a good heart that had weathered a harsh upbringing that Talia could sympathize with. There was a familiar anger in him too, broiling just beneath the surface, flaring up and burning him as much as everyone else when triggered.
Most of all though Talia could see the desperate loneliness that had marred her own life in the boy. The soul deep fear of abandonment. The painful desire for love from a father that always seemed to stay at arm's length who spoke rarely of affection and often of missions to be completed.
She kept a close eye on her Beloved's second Robin.
When he left for Ethiopia, searching for family in a stranger that had already given him up, she'd followed.
Jason only ever wanted family and love. A good boy, bright and fierce and brave. A boy Talia saw a lot of herself in, who faced the world with such determined brightness in spite of the pain and hardship he'd known.
Shelia Haywood took that boy that Talia had grown so fond of, took his trust and his love and crushed it beneath her heel. Callously handed him over to the Joker without a second thought. As if he was disposable, as if he was nothing more than a puppet to use and toss away when it suited her.
Talia had risked everything when she'd decided she would not choose either her father or her Beloved. She'd turned her back on her entire life, everything that had ever been and ever could be on either side. She spent months running, hiding, fighting and killing, in orchestrating a plan that could outwit and outmaneuver the two most brilliant men she knew. And she'd done it all so that her son could live free, as master of his own life.
Jason Todd had come to Ethiopia looking for a mother.
Talia, with blood on her hands and a burning warehouse behind her as she carried his broken body to safety, made sure he found one.
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uncanny-tranny · 6 months
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And another thing that gets me about the human condition is how we weren't even meant to survive this world alone - humans with humans. We chose to trust certain animals, to nourish them, to be symbiotic with them, to love them like we love ourselves. I think a lot of people talk about how selfish it is for humans to take advantage of animals, but I think that's too simplistic. It's closer to friendship - if you do not foster the relationship, then it simply won't go anywhere, and I think the implication that animals can't ever know anything for themselves, for their survival, is also human-centric and selfish (selfishness not inherently being a bad thing).
It's just nice to know that we want to be around people - we want to be around comfort and security and safety so much that we now have animals by our side. Every time I cuddle with my cat, I think that we weren't meant to survive this world alone; she is shaped to fit in my chest, and my arms were made to wrap around her.
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