#is-this-even-relatable writes

[is-this-even-relatable]

Misfortune Teller

tldr: An older Danny, apprentice to Clockwork, does a lot of field work across dimensions, resetting the timeline, queuing future events, and who knows what else. Occasionally, he warns people about such upcoming possibilities, to set them on the right path. How, you might ask? Well in this case... as a wandering fortune teller.

Crack-fic (oh god, it's getting long and my logic brain won't let it remain as crack) where Danny becomes Clockwork's apprentice after getting his GED. Living his infinite afterlife to the fullest. Inspired by this tumblr post.

Working for Clockwork had been... interesting so far. At first, Danny got frustrated by how vague and cryptic Clockwork was. He'd just shunt Danny off to some ancient time with a few words, his own time medallion (Danny carried it everywhere with him now), and then pop back into the portal, leaving Danny with only the faintest idea of where to go.

Eventually, after enough time (ha!) spent around Clockwork, Danny figured out that it just basically meant that he had free reign and to do whatever he wanted. Because if he went on the wrong path, (like that one time in Pompeii when he had almost caused the volcano to explode a few years too early), Clockwork would just pop on by, say another few cryptic words, and then it'd all be fine and dandy, or as he liked to say, "All is as it should be... Now stop practicing your wail by an active volcano."

After telling Jazz about that (it was supposed to be funny, not concerning), she just sighed and shook her head, with a forlorn "think before you act, Danny!" but hey, it'd turned out fine so far, so who cares how he does what Clockwork asks him to do, as long as it gets done, right? Even if it's with a liiiiitle more mischief than strictly required.

Besides. Danny was the one who had been doing time shenanigans across millennia, not Jazz. And he thought he'd been getting pretty good at it too! He'd actually started giving himself a different made-up background for each universe he visited. Sam and Tucker were helping him keep up with the identities on a spreadsheet, so if he had to go back to one he'd already visited, he'd remember who he'd said he was supposed to be.

---

He was on a call with them one evening while haunting Jazz's apartment, doing just that, when he felt a familiar tingle in the back of his throat, as well as a heightened awareness of the seconds passing by, that always accompanied his mentor's appearance.

Sam was talking about his past stint posing as a god of death when he cut in. "Hey- sorry to interrupt, Sam- Clocky's here, guys, I gotta dip."

"Aw, come on! We hardly talked any this past week since you passed your certifications, man," Tucker complained.

Danny rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Yeah, yeah. Partly on you too though, you've been caught up outside of class, and Sam's schedule is nearly the opposite of yours."

Sam hummed in agreement despiter Tucker's scoff.

Danny missed hanging out with them as much as they had in high school, but hey, life goes on. Or at least, theirs did, to college. After finally flunking out of Casper High, he'd taken some time to get used to his responsibilities in the ghost zone, and when he had, he realized that he didn't really have much enthusiasm or timeleft for his human life.

And he didn't really want to go back home either.

But Jazz had made him tie up any loose ends before he noped-off to god knows where, which frankly, he had to thank her for. Getting his GED took a few years, but it was an accomplishment that could be attributed to Danny Fenton, no ghostliness required. Then he was able to let that tether go free.

Pulled out of his musings by a few more grumbles from Tucker, Danny said his goodbyes, promising to call the next time they were all available.

After hanging up, Danny swiveled around, anticipation already lighting up his eyes an ethereal green.

Clockwork, for his part, had been waiting patiently through Danny's lengthy goodbyes. Although he supposed that it tracked for the watcher of time to be patient. With his job, it'd be a nightmare if he wasn't.

"Phantom," Clockwork spoke, calm as always. "I have some tasks I need you to complete as my apprentice."

And Danny, always ready for adventure, didn't need him to explain any further. "Sure! When do you need me to be?"

Clockwork smiled at that. "I am fortunate you are eager. Follow me."

---

Danny popped into existence in this universe with a burst of cold air and static electricity. He found himself hovering by a clocktower above a sprawling, gothic city. Smog and light pollution obscured the stars above him, to his disappointment. He comforted himself with the fact that he'd probably have all the time he wanted to fly someplace less populated to see them later.

He started off by familiarizing himself with the city. As he flew, he followed the trail of power and met the resident city-spirit, a spooky- but kind underneath- woman draped in black lace, who told him her name was Gotham. He spoke in length with her about this universe, its heroes, and her knights. On that, she was very enthusiastic... or at least Danny thought she was, her projected emotions belaying much more than her gloomy exterior. She told him how her knights had been through a lot and would need some guidance fighting the darkness that pooled in her deepest corners, smiling with too much glee, filling lungs with fear, and terrorizing with cold hard bullets.

Danny could sense that the dangers she spoke of were growing in power, ever slowly. The longer they shadowed people's minds and hearts, an intangible thing grew that lent them more otherworldly pull than their physical forms had right to hold.

That must be what he was sent here for.

But... they were weak, pitifully so for him, infinite king as he was. And besides, he wasn't here in that sense. He was a messenger, a simple apprentice. And he could do this however he wanted.

Cue his talk with Lady Gotham, and subsequent idea to arm her knights. With what? Well, he figured knowledge would be a start. Flying high above the city invisibly, Danny noticed a sea of colors and lights by what appeared to be the city's pier. He flew down, noting that it appeared to be the setup spot for a travelling circus or carnival of some kind.

He considered what to do. One of Lady Gotham's troubles was a madman clown, right? Well maybe he'd be attracted to his ilk here... and with the danger came the knights. Maybe he could catch one of them here?

Danny was floating around at the entrance and beginning to formulate a plan when a flyer caught his eye. Looking for a mystic to read fortunes. URGENT!

Hadn't Clockwork said something about fortunes? And he hadn't made an identity in this universe yet...

A mischievous smile crept across Danny's face, splitting it in two with far too many teeth.

---

Half a city away, a man in all black, perched on the very same clocktower that Phantom had Appeared by, shivered as he felt an ominous premonition about his sanity in the near future...

Said man quickly opened his comms to check in with his many, many kids. Yet even after hearing back from each, he still felt apprehensive.

Somewhere even further, Clockwork laughed.

---

And that's how Danny found himself seated at a fortune teller's booth at a pier in Gotham, two days later, for the Tricksy Traveling Circus's grand opening.

[unicornpopcorn14]

So we all know by now that Dazai is comfortable enough around Chuuya to show nervousness/worry.

Enough times for Chuuya to pick up on that pattern. The pattern, may I remind you, that doesn't have evident correlation to either nervousness or worry to most people. One that can even be interpreted as misplaced given the situation.

Which means that Dazai has done this in front of Chuuya so often, that Chuuya at first was hella confused, before he finally made a connection between when and why it happens. And still remembered that connection after four years of separation. Which gets us to my point:

What if this isn't the only emotion Dazai displays weirdly?

What if he has multiple unconventional patterns he displays for sadness, frustration, content, or disgust? The times he really feels them, and they become too strong for him to just deal with normally? What if these are the only times he's actually being genuine with his emotions?

And Chuuya is the only one who is familiar with them all?

Dazai would be jumping rope and Chuuya would be like, "quit sulking, let's get icecream"

Dazai hanging upside down on the couch and Chuuya going, "It's okay, mackerel. You can cry."

Dazai actually crying, full on heart-wrenching sobs, and Chuuya unironically going, "What, good news?"

It's just... comforting, for one person in Dazai's life to read him like a book. Everyone else would look at him like he's crazy, displaying wrong emotions/behaviors at the wrong time, but Chuuya knows that it's just how he processes feeling properly, and thus he's the only one Dazai can count on to put things into context and understand, which makes him display them even more openly.

Because Chuuya never shamed him for his quirks, as much as Dazai never did his.

[chloesimaginationthings]

This is basically Michael in FNAF Sister location,,

[humanjarvis]

your cheeks burn.

post after post flashes on your laptop, the screen’s light painting your frowning face in multicolored hues. 

their technique? stronger than yours. their concepts? more creative. even their aesthetic is nauseatingly perfect. 

your cheeks burn.

scorn. envy. embarrassment. 

“why don’t you take a break?” zayne offers, face drawn in gentle concern. 

you look at him. and then you burst out in laughter, the sound shrill and bordering on hysteric. “i don’t need a break,” you say as if it’s obvious. “i just need to get better.” 

he hums contemplatively, taking in your hunched figure on the armchair you haven’t left in hours. “is ‘better’ something you can get?”

you’re already wound up—anxious and ready to strike. so his words hit like a drop of blood in the ocean. 

“what?” you snap defensively. “you don’t think i can? you don’t think i’m good enough to?”

his eyes narrow. “i never said that. don’t put words in my mouth.”

the taut coil of your anger loosens at his sternness. chewing your lip, you look to the side and lower your laptop screen. “sorry.” 

nodding his acceptance, he crosses one leg over the other. “you’ve been staring at your computer all evening. i’d be concerned about your eyes, but i’m more worried they’ll burn a hole through the screen before the night is over. what’s wrong?”

a heavy sigh deflates the rest of your body, and for the first time in what seems like forever, you set your laptop on the coffee table. battling the numbness in your folded legs, you pull your knees to your chest, shoving your chin between them with a thud that makes zayne wince.

“i feel…bad,” you begin, tired eyes trained on the carpet. “it feels like everyone is more talented than me. or more successful. and it makes me feel bad.”

when you look up, kind hazel eyes greet you, as if he expects you to keep going. but when all you do is fidget with your fingers, he knows you’ll need a bit of help.

“i feel bad sometimes, too. what happens when you feel bad?”

“i get stuck,” you mumble, cheeks squished between your kneecaps. 

“stuck?”

“i can’t do anything when it happens. i just sit there and watch and think of what i don’t do well. and how i can do it differently—better. i just get stuck.” 

he thinks for a moment. “dr. greyson is better at septal myectomies than i am.”

raising your head, you scan his face for signs of teasing and find none. “thanks…but i don't know what that means.” 

his lips quirk. “it’s an open-heart procedure. greyson can remove the problematic tissue fairly quickly, whereas i take more time.” 

“you know that’s not anywhere near the same thing,” you grumble, plopping your chin back down with a huff. 

“but how is it different?”

you don’t answer.

zayne sighs. “come here,” he instructs simply. 

sliding your gaze over to him, you see the expectant look on his face. with a sigh of your own, you untangle your limbs and pad over to his seat, where he pulls you into his lap. 

“how is it different?” he repeats, splaying a soothing hand on your back. 

you pluck at his shirt. “your whole job is being talented and successful. you’re a heart surgeon!”

“and even heart surgeons have weaknesses. everyone does. but if they strive to be someone else, they lose what makes them unique,” he murmurs, cupping your tender cheeks in his hands. “it’s alright to want to improve. i admire you for it. but if you spend your time wondering how to get better, i’ll be a very lonely man. do you want to know why?” 

“why?” you whisper.

“because i’ll be here to celebrate your strengths, even when you can’t see them.” 

[is-this-even-relatable]

Danny: “yeah it was weird being kidnapped to this big mansion full of people after I got stuck as a cat but somehow it’s not so bad”

Damian: “my new cat is so intelligent I am glad his wounds are healing so well :)”

Duke: “Something is Wrong (TM) with that cat but as long as it doesn’t hurt anyone I guess it’s fine”

———

2 weeks later.

*Jason comes to visit for his birthday*

Danny: “damn, this living guy is in some serious need of medical attention, he’s got corrupted ectoplasm in his bloodstream and shit”

Jason, calling from the library: “Hey demon spawn, your cat is staring at me weird”

Damian, calling down from his room: “Tt. His name is Snitches, and he is just a cat, Todd”

Danny, actively making a portal to Frostbite’s lair: “yup just a normal cat ;)”

Jason: “The cat’s eyes are the color of Lazarus water and it’s scratching at the floor and I can’t move AH SHIT IM FALL—”

Dick, rushing in from another part of the house: “Jaybird?! Are you ok?”

Danny, closing the portal and yawning from the drain of using his powers: “Yes, now this sick person can get their blood all fixed up and be back to normal”

Dick, eyeing Danny warily: “…Damian w-where did you get this cat again?”

Damian, walking in now: “The streets of Gotham after patrol, why?”

Dick: “It maybe-totally-definitely ate Jason.”

Damian: “Ah. I suppose we can’t just let Snitches keep Todd?”

Dick, giving the disapproving look:

Damian, sighing: “Fine. Let’s go tell father, he is in the cave.”

———

Steph, bursting in: “Sup bitches! I’ve got the cake— hey where is everybody?”

5 Things Nobody Tells you About Owning a Cat

Inter-dimensional travel

Tidied the background up a bit cause it was kinda messy and our Lord and Saviour Alfred Pennyworth would never.

[lyxchen]

I'M SORRY did they give Maxine ocd?? (not angry, more like just really surprised) like the light switch and then the "Wrong. Everyone I love will die" and having to flip the light switch again, like that's intrusive thought + compulsion. Was this intentional? Are the writers aware that this is an ocd thing???

[stealingyourbones]

HEAVILY debating writing a fic about smaller Gotham banks and their nonexistent security features because, when the daily/weekly robbery is all said and done; it’s cheaper to just have skeleton keys and combination locks with the codes written on a sticky note right next to the safe rather than fancy digital keypads and thumbprint identification and replacing everything every other day.

[secretlysimpash]

Shifter AU König, but he’s not what you expected. 

Seeing a mountain like König, you would fully expect something terrifying. Something absolutely fitting for his 6-foot-fucking infinity height and his skillset. So in a world full of shifters, its only fitting that he’d be a bear…Or a lion, or just…Anything big and intimidating. 

So imagine your surprise when you have to go to his office for something, you need to ask about an upcoming mission…And sitting on top of König’s desk is just

this absolute creature

"Miau."

[is-this-even-relatable]

i wrote a thing. inspired by this post. check it out?

Tim: *points to a booth* You guys want to get your palms read?

Dick: Sure!

Jason: Why not

Damian: Tsk. It's a scam, but I shall allow you the entertainment.

Danny, the fortune teller, staring at Tim's hand: Hmm, you have a lot of anxiety.

Tim: Wow, you can tell that with just a glance?

Danny: No *wipes napkin on Tim's palm* You're hands really sweaty is all

Tim: *horrified*

Dick/Jason/Damian: *Dying of laughter*

[dapper-lil-arts]

I'm not the kind of person that's like "Here let me fix the canon" usually but like holy crap gen 5 implied a lot of messed up shit about our hero Twilight Sparkle lmao

[is-this-even-relatable]

DP x DC PROMPT 1: Phantom Thief

------

tldr: Danny is king, and is trying to find missing artifacts of the infinite realms that have been scattered across the mortal realm. Cue him creating an alter ego, one Phantom Thief.

Inspired by Chapter 2 of "I Am A Retired Hero And My Love Interest Is A Former Crime Lord!?" by ShyCrow on AO3.

------

Danny, recently crowned King of the Infinite Realms, had been going through mountains upon mountains of paperwork. Apparently Pariah Dark, "The Bloody Tyrant", was not a good king who answered his duties. And his long sabattical in the Coffin of Eternal Sleep did not help the work get done. Who'dve thought.

So in an effort to be the king the realms needed, Danny started work on the backlog as soon as his mortal responsibilities were over.

As he went through the realms' archives, looking for an item referenced in a territorial dispute, he could not for the death of him find it. Come to think of it... this archive had been in existence for hundreds of millennia, and was terribly organized. And there were a lot of missing objects.

Danny sighed. Just another thing to pile onto his plate.

---

Ok so he catalogued what wasn't there, and oof... it was a doozy. He figured he should start with stuff that really shouldn't be left in the wrong hands.

And first on that list was Dorothea's amulet.

Danny had tracked its energy to some random rich person's personal museum in Gotham, of all places. Ugh, he really didn't want to get on Batman's radar with any of this... He didn't really wanna bother the Justice League with business of the dead because, frankly speaking, he wasn't sure if they wouldn't do more harm than help.

So he had to go in quietly.

Hmm... "King Phantom" was too flashy... But "regular human Fenton" on the other hand...

Danny smiled as he let his transformation wash over him. Now he just needed to figure out his outfit.

[artisiumstudios]

Haha can yall imagine an au where after Stan is kicked out life goes well for Stan.

Treasure hunting in the beach? It’s not much but he does find a few coins and- HOLY SHIT A DIAMOND RING?!

He decides to sell the ring and start a small business that is doing pretty well off. Few months later he expands to Pennsylvania and slowly through the states,after a few years he starts making actual profit when all of a sudden he comes across a guy named Rico and wouldn’t you know it- Stanley accidentally helps the police catch them. He’s a hero and is recognized all the way to Colombia! A few months later he finds himself in Tijuana now expanding his company INTERNATIONALLY! He stays there a few months and picks up Spanish and eventually leaves back to New Mexico where he stays at a luxury hotel counting his profits, and surprisingly he’s actually close to making half a million! Life is great!

Then gets a postcard from ford.

[babacontainsmultitudes]

I'm gonna be so fr I actually did feel a little bad for the dollmaker what do you mean it looks like a caterpillar what do you mean it was trying to leave this world???

[starryarchitect]

Do you ever stop and think about how small Hiccup was?

Like, think about it from the perspective of Furious. You're this ancient, agonized creature. You loved a human once, but you've outlived your love for him, by so many aeons that you can barely even remember what he looked like—all you remember is his name and that you did love him. But not anymore. Because you've lived so long and been in chains so long and stewed in your rage so long that you're too broken to feel anything soft anymore. All you can do is rage and rampage and shape the world with your fury, and you have enormous impact because you have exactly that much power. You're so powerful and majestic that even the most terrifying dragons cower before the uncontrollable wildfire of your hate. You are ultimate, and everyone knows. You're this massive creature, older than time, who's seen centuries of abuse and pain and loneliness and grief and born it all, understood it all, you're the size and age of a mountain, you are grand and great and terrible, you're colossal, gargantuan, you're cosmic—

And you have to reckon with this tiny newborn child. This little infant who can't comprehend what you've lived through and can't comprehend how long you've lasted and what you've lasted through. He's microscopic compared to your size and age and wisdom, he's so tiny and insignificant and young and foolish that he should have no impact on you whatsoever, you should be able to crush him under your feet, he should be as significant as an insect, as dangerous as a mouse, as powerful as a mote of dust, because he knows nothing and he's seen nothing and he is nothing—

But this tiny little human being that only just entered the world, so small and young and meaningless you shouldn't even know his name, has the capacity to tear apart your entire universe.

And there is nothing you can do to stop him.

[writeouswriter]

Trying to write poetic description from a certain character’s point of view but then realizing this bitch would NOT know the word “ethereal”

[iwatcheditbegin]

I don’t care about genre bc regardless of sound Taylor’s lyrics and storytelling are very distinct to her