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#let people be weird and cringe!
somethingcounterfeit · 8 months
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Literally nothing is funnier to me than someone posting on tumblr dot com that it's cringe for someone to have an *insert celebrity/show/movie/band here* fan blog and anyone who does is parasocial and needs a hobby/to touch grass. ma'am, you're on the fandom website, people are going to make fandom blogs.
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ineffectualdemon · 5 months
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inkskinned · 2 years
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"it's so embarrassing you like that popular thing" "oh ew that geeky/strange thing is so cringe lol" "oh it's kind of weird you get excited about that harmless shit"
dude i love how ironic and jaded you are and that's so cool and sexy of you. and i am so so glad to tell you - you won!! we all had a meeting and we decided that you won, and we are writing your name on the inside of a burger king crown. the marker smeared, sorry, but we knew any form of real effort is ugly to you. but anyway. congrats! you are officially the coolest, most ironic, most jaded person in-the-world-right-now. we would throw you a party but you would think it was totally boring - and besides, we're weird so we wouldn't have been coming. we would have brought our love of beetles and of baking and of little canapes. we would have brought our artsy videogames and pages of writing. we would have written a poem with you, our hands covered in ink, and spread out a canvas to dance on, the night so lurid and pink.
but do not worry. we will not throw the party. we will just get you a ringlight and that crown i mentioned. it is a nice crown, except for where one of us dropped it.
the vote was a really hard one because we had so many cool ironic people to pick off the shelves. all of you have hands that rot fruit, how strange is that - you can't look at something without destroying it for other people. you like it when you can squeeze a person into a pinpoint - all us small ones scampering our little feet around our ugly joys. the vote was also a hard one because we kept our voices down because you don't like it when we talk too loud. you were on your phone at the time, talking to people other than us. you are a ghoul of every moment - half in, half out, you resent us for being here without shame or embarrassment.
so good news! we have invented an island for people like you. you get to go there and speak into the air things like if you still like watching harmless twitch streamers in 2023 you're fucking boring. you will say things like liveplay podcasts are fucking ugly and it's kind of awkward they try to make everything gay. on the island we made you, all of your words will have weight. they will form in the air like icicles, large white behemoth letters that will crumple in anvils around your feet. maybe we will send someone there once in a while to sweep, but honestly you might be there for a while, alone, waiting. we are busy being outside looking for mushrooms and flapping our hands and humming. we are busy kicking our little heels while we watch cringey tv. we are busy - sorry! as an apology, we have pre-filled the island with every bland, mediocre, unscented thing we could find. the island has the texture of american cheese. the island has an ocean that never gets angry. the island is perfect for you, trust me. you will be so happy there - as happy as you can be, ironically.
we want to say we are sorry for doing harmless things that you find annoying, childish, or unappealing - but we are not sorry. we thought we could help you, because we don't mind laughing at ourselves, but it turns out you are allergic to color and noise and atmosphere, so this is the best that we can do for now. we are all making a big shirt that says i voted in the ironic monarchy. we got you one that is just a fast fashion buttondown. i am so excited for you and this island and the big life you have won. you have a cool jaded grey life and miles of irony to roam. i love you! be well.
now leave us alone.
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tippenfunkaport · 8 months
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That viral post that's going around about how people who write "book quality" mlm fic are too "normal" to publish and have real jobs so only "weird" people publish their "shitty" fanfic is so completely out of touch with reality and I am giving a massive side eye to everyone reblogging it.
Not only is it completely, easily verifiably untrue (you cannot enter any professional writing space without tripping over a dozen grizzled scifi writers who got their start by filing off the serial numbers and publishing their Star Trek fanfic even going back decades ago??? it's a whole thing?? plus how can you look at the mlm category on Amazon right now and say with a straight face that people aren't publishing shitty Spirk and Stucky fanfic??? Oh, honey...) it's also the perfect example of this kind of sneering elitism that true artists would never sully themselves by seeking profit, they do it only for the purity of the thing that always somehow leads back to, "no one should be paid to make art, actually."
The only reason you're seeing more published fanfic right now has nothing to do with the idealistic purity of your hypothetical government employee written smut of the past vs the debased scribbles of those awful straights of today and everything to do with the fact that a) self-publishing has created a voracious readership that wants a ton of content so it's become a viable, flexible income stream for many, especially disabled people b) anyone can publish now with self-publishing tools so there are less gatekeepers and c) lockdown got a lot of people into fandom and therefore writing who never tried it before.
And if you really think there's no "shitty" published mlm and no "book-quality" m/f writing out there that started as fanfic, then you are clearly not a reader so why are you even talking about this?
#love how they manipulated people into spreading that post by making it seem like a cishet vs gay thing#when the real message is OP thinks trying to sell your writing is cringe and 'weird' and 'normal people' with jobs would never#which would of course never have flown on the fandom website#so they played into the queer shipping is purer than cishet shipping puriteen thing#and it worked!#because my god people are gullible#this is the direct pipeline that leads to AI thievery#''normal' people write for the joy of it anyway so why do you need pay? you are just greedy and 'weird'!'#'oh no this isn't about who we get to call cringe and who gets to profit from art it's about um...#(quick what's a hated m/f ship?).. oh uh 'shitty' REYLO#and not our super pure uh... (spirk is still popular right? lets throw in that avengers one too to make it seem timely) stucky!'#I'm sorry if I have no sense of humor about this but the year is 2024 and people are still way too ready to sneer#about writers trying to earn a fucking living in the shittiest timeline#and i need you to look deep into yourself and ask you why it's so important to you to tell yourself that only people writing what you like#are 'normal' with real jobs and to vilify everyone else as 'weird' and 'shitty'#for trying to make an income during a financial fucking crisis#i would say sorry for ranting about this but I'm not sorry because wtf#write whatever you want#publish whatever you want#there is no moral fucking purity in what the content is#and one thing certainly doesn't make you more 'weird' or 'normal' than the other#like there is soooo much shitty mlm that started as fanfic???#that post is 100% OP made up some guys to get mad about and called them relyos for the clicks#writing#publishing#writblr#writeblr#i wasn't going to tag this anything but you know what fuck it I'm mad#i had like 5 more tags but tumblr cut me off which is fair 😅#fan fiction
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phantom-0-writer · 11 months
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second chances don’t come for free
cw/tw: child death and child abuse and related traumas
7652 words (!?) ao3
Everyone in the family had secrets, and everyone knew that everyone in the family had secrets. It was a promise that came with the crest they all wore on their chest. Some were more open than others, like the way that Richard always avoided tight ropes despite his impeccable balance, and how Father never enters the 4th room on the west wing of the 3rd floor.
Damian had secrets too. 
After a relatively calm night by Gotham’s standards they returned to a briefing for their next big mission. Damian was one of the last to return, busy settling a mugging attempt on his return. 
“Good, looks like everyone’s here.” Father announced, gathering the attention of the rest of the occupants of the room. 
“Looks like a full house.” Richard commented lightly looking around as everyone gathered around the computer. Todd leaned casually on the railway to the changing room away from the crowd but close enough to be included, Drake was clicking away at the keyboard as usual. Brown and Cain stuffing in their last cookie before butting the container away. Thomas stood idly by waiting for Father to explain what their next operation was. Barabra likely was listening from a separate location as usual. 
“We’ve received a tip from a trusted source that the League is up to suspicious activity.” Father began, as Drake pulled up a few schematics on the screen. 
“When are they not?” Brown scoffed, lightly jabbing Richard in the arm. He chuckled lightly. 
“Naturally,” Father continued, “It would be irresponsible for us to all go and leave Gotham unprotected so Spoiler, Orphan, and Signal will stay to cover the city while the rest of us are gone. I’ve informed Batwoman as well, and she’s available to assist you if the situation demands.” Father paused to give the rest an opening to speak, when no one did so, he continued. “We’ve discovered that they’ve found a rare washup of some form of solidified Lazarus Waters. We don’t have much information on the substance itself apart from what's essentially speculation. Regardless if the League found a way to solidify the Waters, there is no telling what they would find themselves in possession of, weapons, tech, humans at a level we’ve never seen.” Damian knew all too well what the League was capable of. After all, he had been the League. Father continued explaining the details of the plan and the positions each of them were meant to play. 
It would be the first time Damian returned to a League of Assassins base since he had first left them 7 years ago and he had met his Father at his own doorstep for the very first time at the age of 10. It had only been the lifetime's worth of rigorous training that kept Damian from curling into his gut at the sight of those eyes. 
The eyes that haunted Damian the last days he had stayed in the league when Mother had ordered him to pack anything he wished to take with him. The look of terror in the eyes that look just like the one that calls him Champ while he ruffles his hair and tells him to go sleep early since it was a school night. 
Damian found himself freshly showered and comfortably under his duvet, then a moment later he was pulling them off to go through the motions of his day. Next thing Damian knew he was in his Robin uniform in a jet that would be taking him to the sight of his biggest mistake. 
The League had always kept a close record of Damian’s activities since he had been taken out of his test tube. Every daily schedule, no matter how mundane, every mission report, no matter how simple, was expertly stored in the League’s database. 
That was with the exception of the final test. The League had taken extensive measures to scrub away any traces of the final test before Damian had gone to live with Father. 
When Father and Drake had meticulously gone through every file about Damian on his arrival to the manor, Damian was told his first kill had been at the age of 4, a politician in his house in the capital city not far from the League’s Nanda Parbat base. 
Though Damian had only understood what it meant to kill - to watch death - only 3 days before he had met his father. 
“Damian.” Richard called, Damian hadn’t noticed that he had been approached, “Are you sure you're clear for this mission.” He sounded concerned. 
“Yes.” Damian responded with a frown. He had his own mission, he could not afford to be benched. 
“You seem kind of out of it. I know you don’t have the best memories with the League and none of us are going to force you to go if you're not ready,” Richard was trying to seem approachable and understanding, and perhaps Damian should be more reciprocative of his efforts. But he ‘knew’? What exactly did Richard Grayson ‘know’ about the League? About what happened to Damian in the League? 
Damian bit his tongue, there was no point in lashing out before a mission only for it to impede needlessly on their cohesiveness “Would you prefer for me to bounce off the walls in excitement?” Damian allowed the snark to roll off his tongue, and raised a brow at the older boy. 
Grayson let himself laugh at that, “No, I suppose not.” And with that Damian was alone again. 
When Damian was 3, Mother had taken him to watch the older kids train. Damian had noticed someone else there, another boy around his age. They looked similar even, but not identical. Damian remembered the jealousy he felt when he started noticing the similarities the boy shared with Mother’s features, the audacity that he looked more like Damian’s mother than Damian himself. When he told Mother, she had found it humorous and praised Damian for looking more like his father insead.
While Damian sat on the bench with mother, their escorts behind them, the boy sat alone at a bench further away. “Damian, do you know who that boy is?” Mother had leaned in to ask him.
“No, Mother.” He answered honestly.
“That is Danyal al-Ghul, your twin brother by 76 seconds.”
“What is a brother, Mother?”
“Your opponent in all that you do, Damian, he is your enemy. You must always remember that.” Damian made his best efforts to remember that, because of course Mother was always right.
Damian and Danyal had been assigned rooms across the hall from each other but they never met outside of coincidental encounters. And whenever they had, someone had always been there to remind Damian that Danyal was not to be trusted, that he would get under Damian’s skin, find ways to exploit Damian, a cheat and a smear on the al-Ghul bloodline. One of his teachers at the time had told him Mother would’ve done well to leave that one in the tube he was born from. The people of the League would not dare lie to an heir of the Demon’s Head, so Damian believed them.
 One night, after a particularly tiring day of training, Damian found he couldn’t sleep and decided to sneak out onto the roof. Damian had not been expecting anyone to be there but he was surprised to see the boy there. He considered his options, assessing his opponent like he had been taught to do. The enemy, Danyal, seemed to act purposefully unaware of Damian’s presence there. There were no weapons stored on him, and his posture was incredibly lax and he simply stared at the stars in the night sky. 
With a sigh, Damian sat silently at his side of the building, and looked into the far expenses of the League's base and the mountains that surrounded it. Though Damian had intended to be alone, he found an unfamiliar sense of comfort from the un-accosting presence of the other, unlike the others of the League who always seemed to need to say something to him. But Damian knew, regardless, the boy was not to be trusted. 
The next night Damain found himself climbing out of his window again, and found Danyal already there. For the next three months, every night Damian would sneak out of his window onto the rooftop and find Danyal already there, and the both of them would sit there in a comfortable silence, back turned to the other. 
One day Damian had been sent out for a mission, nothing he wasn’t used to. Except the location was quite far so he had to leave early in the morning and would be returning much later in the day. He had managed to complete his mission much earlier than anticipated, and so with this newly earned time, Damian snuck off to explore instead of heading straight to the rendezvous point. Easily pickpocketing a handful of cash unnoticed from a preoccupied group of wealthy looking men, Damian pursued the options. 
Perhaps he could buy a toy, a train set the other kids were ogling at. Except that would be much too difficult to hide, and needless to say Mother would not approve of such distractions. Damian overheard some others talking about the deliciousness of the sweets in one store, and he made up his mind. He bought 4 different types, not sure which would be the best, handing over his money to the clerk and heading out of the store. 
Damian found himself anticipating the rooftop of his room, and wondering how Danyal would react to Damian’s new found treasure. Slipping the chocolates out of their hiding spot, Damian snuck all 4 bars onto his usual spot on the roof. Letting the wrapper crinkle loudly as he purposely fiddled with it unnecessarily, Damian successfully earned a curious glance from his roofmate. Damian took the first bite of the bar labeled ‘Dark Chocolate’ and let himself enjoy the bitter sweetness of it, as Danyal looked at the candy bars spread haphazardly across the rooftop. 
Not liking that he was beginning to lose Danyal’s attention, and not receiving the eager response he was expecting, Damian found himself sticking a piece of chocolate towards the other boy, offering it to him. Danyal hesitantly took it, eyed it cautiously. Some of the chocolate had already melted on Damian’s fingers. “What is this?” Danyal asked him. 
“It’s chocolate.” Damian explained to the other six-year old, not that he had really known what chocolate was either. 
“Chocolate.” Danyal repeated, before carefully nibbling on the side of it. His eyes went wide in surprise at the sweetness, and he looked up at Damian in disbelief. “Woah.” He breathed, taking a much bigger bite. 
Damian, having been the one to discover this, smiled pridefully at the other boy, “There's different ones too.” He proclaimed. 
“Really?” Danyal asked wide-eyed crawling closer to Damian who turned around to face him. 
At the end of that night, they were short 4 candy bars as they tried to keep their whispers hushed and the melted chocolate on their fingers left stains on the floor of the roof. Damian wondered how Danyal was supposed to be the villainous enemy everyone told him he was, but Damian was not so easy to trust, after all he was an assassin of the League, the heir to the Demon’s Head. 
Every night they would meet on the rooftops, exchanging souvenirs, sharing snacks, telling each other stories of the stars and mountain demons. After a while Damian had forgotten what he had been warned of for his whole life, and would look forward to meeting with Danyal every night. Maybe Danyal wasn’t his brother, like Mother had said. 
Perhaps Mother was mistaken.  
One night, Danyal didn’t show. Damian waited for him for an hour, but the other’s side of the roof remained unattended. Finally, having had enough, Damian skillfully snuck over to the other side of the roof and peeked through his neighbor’s window to see if he had fallen asleep, but there was no sign of Danyal in his room, either.
Feelings Damian didn’t understand swirled in his gut, the ones he got when the mission unexpectedly goes off script, or the sharp end of a weapon comes closer than he would’ve liked. Hurriedly, he slipped down, letting himself stay hidden in the shadows, as he searched for the boy that wasn’t his brother. The kitchen, the hall, the training room, the weapons room, the barracks, the field, the river in the back, Danyal was nowhere. 
Tired, and out of breath, Damian tried to formulate a plan. Where could Danyal have gone?
“Young Master Damian.” At the voice Damian instinctively reached for his sword only to find it not there. Had he forgotten to bring it with him? Damian assessed who had caught him, and easily recognized by the uniform that it was one of the servants. 
“What are you doing here?” Damian demanded, frustration at his futile efforts at finding his… -at finding Danyal.  
“I am cleaning the walkways, as we are to do every 10 days, Young Master. It is more convenient to do it at night, since there are less people around.” The servant explained, bowing his head. They seemed scared of what Damian may do to them. But when Damian did not respond, the servant hesitated before speaking again, “If I may ask, Young Master, what are you doing here at this late hour?” 
Damian turned to the servant again, if they had been out cleaning as they said for the previous hours past curfew then perhaps they had seen or heard where Danyal had gone. “Do you know of Danyal al-Ghul?” Damian made sure his tone was void of emotions, it would not do either of them well for it to spread that Damian had found himself fond of Danyal. 
The servant’s face paled slightly at the name, there was a small stutter before they finally spoke, “Young Master Danyal should be in his room at this hour.” The servant began fiddling, with the handle of the broomstick.
Why was he lying? “Where is he?” Damian kept his voice even, demanding respect. 
“I- I do not know where the Young Master is.” The servant pleaded, but Damian didn’t believe him. 
Anger growing at the situation, “Tell me.” He demanded. 
“The Demon’s Head, and The Lady Talia were to speak with him.” The servant spluttered out, caving under the pressure. 
Why would Mother and Grandfather seek out Danyal at this hour of the night? The feeling from before only strengthened as Damian rushed to find him.
“Damian.” Mother asked surprised, catching him easily at the door, “What are you doing here?” Damain tried to get a look inside the room, but Mother had positioned her body to block his view. 
“Mother, shouldn’t you be asleep by now.” Damian asked, trying to find the casualness in his voice despite feeling like every vein in his body was being controlled to squeeze his chest. 
Mother looked down at him in amusement, “I should say that to you.” Damian tried to force his way through the door, but he was no match for Mother, “Why are you here Damian?” She repeated. 
“I would like to speak with Grandfather.” He tried, lies slipping easily out of his mouth. 
“I’m sure it can wait till the morning, your Grandfather is tired from a hard day's work.” When Mother pushed her hair behind her shoulder, Damian wondered why there were splotches of fresh blood on her hand. 
Damian stood there in defiance, and Mother seemed to consider him for a while. “Perhaps since you're merely a child you wouldn’t understand.” Mother thought aloud. 
“I am seven, Mother, nearly eight. I am hardly a child, and have far surpassed the many of the teachers you’ve assigned me. I can understand.” Damian demanded. He needed to find Danyal. 
Mother straightened, and with a nod, moved from the entrance allowing Damian to enter. There on the floor was a trail of blood, that led to one of the darker corners of the room, and Damian couldn’t tell what the heap on the floor was. 
“Damian, you should be in your room.” Grandfather chided, sitting in his chair by the fireplace. The darkness of the room finally became accustomed to Damian, as he began making out the details of the room. Grandfather didn’t have his cane, instead it was left closer to the heap in the corner. The heap had its hair cut messily just like Danyal’s always was, and its hands were smaller than an adults, as it tried to bundle itself together. The heap moved slightly, it’s head turning to look at Damian. Damian drew in his breath, at the sight of Danyal’s fluttering consciousness on the floor. 
Mother was right, Damian didn’t understand. 
Grandfather followed his gaze, and nodded understandingly, placing a lit pipe between his lips. “Danyal is simply being punished.” Grandfather explained. Damian couldn't find the word to ask what for, but Grandfather explained anyway. “He seems to think he is your equal, in the way he speaks and acts. As if he is one of the respectable heirs of the Demon’s Head.” Damian didn’t understand what that meant either. If Danyal was meant to be his brother, would he not have equal claim as heir as Damian did. 
“He is my equal. Mother said so herself.” Damian stated, not sure the source of his deep rage at his Grandfather and Mother at that moment. 
Grandfather turned a questioning look at Mother. Mother turned to Damian. “What are you talking about, my son?” 
“You said that Danyal was my brother.” Damian said, it was true that Mother had said this, regardless of whether Danyal should be considered Damian’s brother, “A brother is an opponent, someone waiting to strike me down at any moment. My enemy in all that I do.” Damian recited Mother’s own words, though he could not put his faith in them. Danyal had always listened to Damian, understood Damian, laughed at his jokes and added with his own, always the first one to comfort Damain. They weren’t brothers. “If he is to be my enemy, should he not be on the same grounds as I, as a true equal in skill?” 
Grandfather considered what he said, and shared another look with Mother. “I suppose I see the reason in your words.” Grandfather turned to him again, “Why have you come Damian?” 
“I simply was taking a late night walk since I couldn’t sleep, and I thought I would perhaps feel better if I came to visit you. I did not expect to see Mother here.” Damian was surprised how easily it was to lie to the only people he had trusted for the previous year of his life.
Grandfather let his hand rest on Damian’s shoulder “Take him back and dress his wounds.” He ordered Damian, “And do not trust his words, he simply wishes to get under your skin. Manipulate you.” The doors to the room shut behind them as Damian carried the body of his battered enemy back to his room, and patched up his wounds. 
Danyal was sitting on Damian’s bed, fluttering on the line of consciousness. “What you said before,” his voice was barely above a whisper and he spoke slowly as his words meshed together. Damian listened raptly, “to Grandfather, do you-” Danyal seemed to be having a hard time forming the question, but Damian understood. 
“It was the truth.” Damain said easily, Danyal's face fell at the admission, but Damian was quick to explain, “It was true that Mother told me what ‘brother’ meant, and that was the true meaning of brother. But I do not think of you as my brother.” Danyal examined him for a moment, trying to determine if he was being honest. 
“I trust you.” Danyal said with more conviction than Damian thought he could possess in that moment. He trusted Damian’s words and actions when not even Mother or Grandfather did. 
Finishing with the last bandaid, Damian looked at Danyal. “I trust you, too.” Trust seemed to light a word for Danyal, but Damian was not sure what word he should have used instead. 
That was because Damian did not know what love was, and because Damian al-Ghul loved his brother.
“Mother you called for me?” Damian sat in the chair opposite of Mother’s study. 
“Damain, you’re here.” She greeted, not looking up from her screens. Damain waited for her to finish what she was working on, arms crossed impatiently. “You do remember who your father is?” Mother started, turning the screen with two of Father’s well-known persona on display. One of billionaire Bruce Wayne greeting guests at a function, and the other of the Batman perched near the head of a gargoyle. 
“Of course, I remember, Mother.” Damian sighed in resignation. “Bruce Wayne and his alter ego, Batman.” He recited. 
“Good. You are a decade old now, and there is not much the League has left to teach you. So, in one week's time you will be going to stay with your Father.” Mother said bluntly. 
Damian’s brows creased together, “For how long?” 
Mother looked at him with authority as the next in line for the Demon’s Head, “For the foreseeable future.” 
“What!” Damian stood in indignation, “Mother that's unreasonable, how could you make me-” 
“It is an order Damain.” Mother said with finality. 
Damian frowned, “And what of Danyal then? He is Father’s child as well, I doubt he would sit by knowing he has another child here.”
“An intelligent conclusion.” Mother praised, “That is why you and Danyal will have a final test, the victor will be the one who is sent to your Father.” Damian’s eyes lit up at the concept, Danyal never talked about how he trained or what skills he best utilized, other than once slipping that he prefers to use katanas too, Damian did not know much of Danyal skills. This was finally Damian’s chance to see how capable of a fighter Danyal is. Despite whoever won, Damian was sure, even without knowing his father yet, that he would come back to retrieve the other.
“When will the spar be a mother?” Damian asked. 
“In 4 days, you will be expected in the main courtyard by noon.” Mother said dismissively. 
The day came both faster and slower than Damian would’ve liked. Wearing his usual gear, and his swords by his side he headed towards the field mother had instructed him to be at. Damian had waited in anticipation for this day, making sure all his swords were properly cleaned and sharpened. Of course they always were, but he had taken extra care that they would be in their best condition. His attire had been carefully selected by himself, a measure he usually wouldn’t take. 
Danyal and Damian stood facing each other, waiting for the signal to begin. Mother and Grandfather watched them closely from their spots in the audience, as the two exchanged blows, swords slidinging across each other, dodges and blocks, evasive flips, feint attacks, Danyal punched him in the gut once when Damian hadn’t been prepared. Damian let the battle engulf his senses, body moving in flow with his weapon, switching seamlessly between offense and defense until Damian found the perfect opening for an attack and he took it, knowing he would be named victorious. 
Damian’s katana sunk into Danyal’s chest, a gasp of pain escaping the other boy, as he looked down at the point of impact. Confusion filtered across his face for only a moment, and before Damian could question it, Danyal’s expression slowly morphed into fear as Mother and Grandfather approached them. 
“Damian, congratulations are in order.” His Mother praised him, stepping in between him and Danyal. “I knew from the beginning you would come out victorious.” 
“Thank you, Mother.” Damian tried to look at Danyal. “What now?” 
“We will be taking your brother to the Lazarus Pits, and let Fate decree any value to his life.” Mother explained, turning to Danyal and pulling Damian’s sword out of his chest, Danyal yelped in pain. 
Damian wondered if Danyal had been hurt during their fight. 
Damian bent down to load Danyal onto his back and carry him to the mystic waters and let him heal so he could join him at Father’s later. Perhaps Father would not be as keen as Mother on fostering their brotherhood, and they could train and fight together like they always talked about. 
“Damian.” Danyal croaked out lowly, if his face wasn’t already positioned near Damian’s ear he likely wouldn’t have heard. 
“Shh.” Damian chided, “Mother will notice.” 
“Damian.” Danyal called again, “Promise, you won’t forget about me.” 
Checking to see that Mother was still occupied in a conversation with one of the servants, “Don’t worry, I'm going to take you with me. Or I’ll come back to get you.” 
 “Promise.” Danyal asked again. 
Damian sighed, Danyal could be so stubborn sometimes, even with strange requests “Fine, I promise.” he rolled his eyes. Danyal didn’t say anything after that, instead resting his head on Damian’s shoulder. 
“Place him in the waters, Damian.” Mother instructed. 
Danyal’s body floated in the waters lifelessly for a bit, and Damian wondered why nothing was happening. And then suddenly, as if it were the mouth of some vicious beast, a gaping vortex circled around Danyal swallowing his body whole. Just as suddenly as it had erupted, the vortex disappeared and the waters returned to a deathly still seconds later. Everyone surrounding the waters watched in anticipation, but when nothing happened and enough time had passed, everyone headed back to their tasks. 
Mother stayed for a moment longer, “It seems even Fate, too, was eager to be rid of you.” she muttered, before heading off. 
Damian was the only one left there, waiting for Danyal to walk out and tease Damian for getting worried that it was taking so long. But the sun was beginning to set, and the waters had not moved at all, and there was no sign of Danyal. 
“Young Master, Lady Talia says that you should return to your chambers.” A servant stood by the gates holding a plate of food for him. Or was it for Danyal? There was only one serving.  
Damian turned to the servant, and he asked in a voice shakier than he had been expecting of himself, “Why hasn’t Danyal come out yet?” 
The servant seemed taken aback by the question, before their face morphed into something sadder that Damian didn’t understand. “Young Master Danyal will not be returning to us.” They explained softly. 
“Why not?” Damian demanded, confused and angry. His eyes were beginning to burn. 
The servant hesitated before answering him, “Because Young Master Danyal is dead.” 
“What difference should that make, people die all the time?” 
“It is as easy for the dead to return as your grandfather may make it seem, Young Master.” The servant spoke again, their voice gentle and tone careful. “Usually when people die they are gone for good, and they don’t get to come back. Not even with the Lazarus Waters. Second chances do not come for free, after all.” 
Damian let the words sink in. Danyal- Danyal wasn’t coming back? 
It was dark out now, almost the time the two of them usually met on the rooftop. Danyal would be waiting for him there, like he was every night. 
“You're lying.” He accused the servant, as he ran to his room, food left forgotten as Damian quickly made his way onto the familiar rooftops. 
Damian waited there, the servant’s words echoing in his ears at every second Danyal didn’t show up. An hour passed, and then two. And Damian considered for the first time that the servant had been telling him the truth. 
For the first time since he made his first visit to the roof of his room, Damian al-Ghul sat unaccompanied. 
After six years of carrying out various missions as an assassin, Damian al-Ghul cried when he learned what death meant. 
For the first time in his life, Damian al-Ghul cried when he realized he was alone.  
“We’re here.” Red Robin announced, as the plane landed silently about 15 miles away from base like they had planned the night before. 
“Oracle, testing comms and visuals,” Nightwing spoke into his earpiece. 
“All good on my end.” Her voice echoed in all of their ears. 
“Okay, just like we discussed, Robin and Red Hood will head to the surveillance room and get a location for where the experimentation is taking place. Nightwing and I will be on standby until the information is provided, Red Robin collects samples and information in the time that we have.” Father went over the plan again. 
Robin stealthy led the two of them through the LoA’s familiar layout, and the mission went smoothly. Within the next two hours they had the location of the experimentation site. It was on base, but a further location, so Nightwing and Batman headed there, ready to collect whatever information they could. Downloading the files for the surveillance and sending the access over to Oracle, their job should be done, and they were set to wait at the rendezvous point until further orders, or back up was requested. 
“Where are you going, Brat? We’re supposed to head that way.” Red Hood chastised as Damian took them off course. 
“Then go that way, if you wanna be such a goody-goody.” Damian shot back easily. Knowing the route to his destination easily. Damian kept to the least used route. 
“What’s with you, today? Pissy about not getting to see your Mommy?” Red Hood snarked, still following behind him. 
Damian wasn’t going to justify that with a response. The green of the Lazarus Waters came into view. A shiver went up his spine but he ignored it.
“Robin. What the hell are we doing here?” Red Hood demanded, eyeing the familiar green with contempt. Damian bent down to pick a handful of stay dandelions from the corner of the unused ally, and easily jumped over the gates surrounding the water. “Damian.” Jason hissed, “What are you doing?” 
“Relax.” Damian sighed, bending down near the waters, “I just came to give my greetings to… someone.” To his brother. Danyal was is his brother. Despite the mask hiding his face, Damian could see Jason’s posture soften. 
“Make it quick.” Jason huffed, letting Damian have some pseudo-privacy by turning his back to him. Damian set the flowers he had picked near the edge of the water, only noticing that the temperature had dropped when the wind blew a slight chill at the exposed skin of his face. It wasn’t temperatures Damian couldn’t handle, Gotham was often dreary and chilly even in her summers. But they weren’t in Gotham. They were in the Middle East, where they would consider themselves unlucky when the winters got this cold. 
“Hood, do you-” Damian was cut off by the loud acidic bubbling of the previously calm green waters. 
“What the-” Red Hood balked, turning around alarmed. 
Damian backed away in alarm, the edge of the waters expanding to swallowing the flowers he had laid down. The two brothers could do nothing but watch in suspense as the waters started swirling into a vortex garnering attention they had been trying to avoid. Just as suddenly as it had started the waters returned to their previously calm state, only for the surface to be broken by what looked like a young child, trying desperately to keep himself afloat and get to land. 
Damian and Red Hood were too busy holding off the assault from the small force the assassins had managed to form together to help the child. The second either of them turned their back to the assaulters, the assassins would take the opening to finish them. By the time they had dealt with their attackers the boy had already brought himself to shore, hacking up water. 
Familiar choppy black hair, and blue eyes Damian could never forget. “Danyal.” Damian found himself gasping, body frozen not from the cold. 
“Don’t mean to ruin your meet cute, but look like they brought their friends.” Red Hood warned as more assassins surrounded them. 
“We need to leave. Now.” Damian told him decisively. 
“Wow I never would’ve guessed.” Red Hood snarked back. 
“Call for an extraction.” Damian huffed annoyed, blocking an attack from the left. There weren’t many well trained members currently aware of them, but they knew better than to wait for backup to show up. 
“Red Robin, what’s your eta to the jet? Team 1 needs an emergency extraction.” Oracle spoke through the main line of comms. 
“I can be there in 10 minutes.” Red Robin responded easily, “What’s the situation?”
“We’ve been made.” Red Hood reported back disarming his attacker and knocking them out. 
“Will likely need medical attention.” Damian added, looking back at Danyal, who only now seemed to be registering his surroundings. 
“What happened?” Nightwing asked, concerned at Damian’s statement. 
“Not for us, for our new little stowaway.” Red Hood explained finishing off the last of the assassin, before turning around to face Danyal.
“Explain.” Batman demanded
“Perhaps now is not the best time or place for that, Father.” Damian snapped back. 
Danyal stood scarily still from the bay of the Lazarus Waters, wet and dripping, and despite the chilly temperature and his wet clothes he didn’t seem cold. If Jason had not tried to approach Danyal as well, Damian would’ve thought he was simply a figment of his imagination. 
“Hey, kid.” Red Hood put his arms out to show he meant no threat. “Do you know how you got here?” He tried to make his voice soft and approachable but the voice modulator of his helmet was not doing him any favors.  
Danyal didn’t respond, eyeing the both of them carefully. They let him, not making any movements that may scare him. The world seems to go still around Damian. Go colder. 
“I’m in the jet, heading your way.” Red Robin reported over the comms.
“We’re coming to find you too.” Nightwing added, Father presumably with him. 
Neither Jason or Damian made any moves. 
“Team 1, do you copy?” Oracle asked when neither of them sent a signal for receiving the message. 
Damian wondered what he should do? How was he supposed to approach Danyal, and begin to explain what was happening? Damian wasn’t even sure what was happening. 
“Team 1?” Father repeated. 
Do something, Damian.
“Copy.” Red Hood clicked into the comms and everything rushed into motion. 
At Red Hood’s response and the rapid movements of the wind at the approaching jet approaching overhead, Danyal dashed away alarmed. 
“Wait-” Damian called, running after him. But Danyal only seemed more distressed at being chased. He ran through small crevices Damian was too large to fit through, trying to deter him. But Damian followed regardless. Finally catching up to him where he knew that alleyway to come to an end, Damian caught sight of him, reaching out to grab his arm. Only for it to fall through as if nothing was there. 
As if Danyal wasn’t really there. 
After the failed attempt at contact from Damian, Danyal was only able to get so far before he seemed to trip, his foot catching on something that Damian couldn’t see. 
Why had Damian’s hand just gone through him like that?
Damian began to question whether Danyal truly was in front of him or if it was just some sort of illusion. Damian was quickly reassured of the validity of his vision when a sharp rock Danyal launched let blood drip on his skin. The hiss of pain was real. And so was Danyal.
Damian didn’t stop his domino from falling off his face, from the rock’s impact. Danyal stared at him. “Don’t tell me you don’t recognize me?” Damian tried to laugh, but it sounded pathetic. 
Danyal analyzed Damian’s features, confusion washing over him. It made sense, the Damian Danyal had known was a 10 years old assassin, not a 17 year old Robin. Danyal was smart, smarter than Damian had been. Damian waited for him to figure it out.
But the world did not wait. Red Hood, Nightwing, and Batman dropped in from various rooftops, as the jet hovered loudly above them. Spooked by the sudden appearances, Danyal quickly started backing away. 
“Excretion ready. Preparing Medbay.” Red Robin reported. 
“I was wondering when the news would reach you, Beloved.” Another familiar voice grabbed their attention. Damian looked to the sound to see Mother with at least 10 of her personal guards staring them down. Although Damian couldn’t see the others, he knew they had been surrounded. 
“Talia.” Father hissed, a cold anger in his voice. 
Damian's eyes shot back to Danyal who looked like he was trying to find a way to make an escape, exhaustion seeping through him. Deciding to take his chance, Damian approached him while Mother was occupied with Father. 
“Who are you?” Danyal asked him, hesitantly, trying to keep the distance between him and Damian. 
“I promised I would come back for you, didn’t I?” Damian said in lieu of an answer.
Danyal’s eyes widened in recognition but before he had the chance to respond, an arrow was launched landing between them. Looking at the source, it was Mother. At the signal attack, all the other guards swarmed in from their positions and started attacking. Damian, blocking a sword, aimed to slash his side, before another sword came for his shoulder. 
Occupied with his two attackers, Damian didn’t notice Danyal trying to escape by climbing the side of the brick building. Fortunately, Mother still hadn’t noticed him yet thanks to their surroundings, and Danyal’s insistence to stay in the shadows. Danyal’s progression was decelerating, the weight of his still wet clothes and exhaustion slowing him down. 
Damian tried to keep an eye on him so he could follow after, once he dealt with his attackers. Disarming both of them and knocking them unconscious, Damian was able to turn around just in time to notice Danyal on the brink of unconsciousness, and losing his grip on the stones he was using to climb. Damian moved quickly, just in time to catch Danyal as he fell and his eyes rolled back. With Danyal in his arms, Damian only registered the on coming projectile without enough time to dodge or block. Damian braced himself for the hit, using his body to shield Danyal as much as he could. 
Only for a familiar black cape to flutter in front of him, blocking the attack before it hit either of them. “Go,” Father ordered, tipping his head towards the jet, “We’ll follow.” 
-
“So basically, correct me if I’m wrong,” Steph started incredulously, “Damian had a twin brother that died, they dunked him in the pit waters but then he didn’t come back. So, they were like ‘welp, lets tell no one about this, ever’. Except the water ends up literally throwing him out when Damian goes back and does this huge water show grand entrance thing. And now we have another 10 year old Wayne child.” Steph summarized arms moving wildly. If there wasn’t a kid that looked a lot like Damian lying unconscious in the bed two feet away from her, and the body cam footage from both Damian and Jason, Steph would’ve thought they were pranking her. Though, she hadn’t entrily ruled that out yet either. 
Tim nodded in conformation, leaning back causally on his chair.
“You were gone for 36 hours.” Cass added exasperatedly. 
Damian still hadn’t said anything other than explain who exactly Danyal was. They were twins, apparently, and they had been forced into a battle to the death a few days before Damian had been brought to the manor. He hadn’t told them why, but Steph suspected it was for some stupid successor business. Some of the other’s had tried to get more information out of Damian, demanding answers for why he never said anything before, never told any of them, why there weren’t any files of Danyal in the League’s databases. But Damian hadn’t answered any of them, so they had been forced to give it a rest- for now. Looking back, Steph could see the signs that Damian was dealing with grief when he had first come to the manor, but no one had been looking for that, and it had gotten swept under ‘weird assassin cult child’ behavior. 
It had been about an hour and a half since the jet had landed in the cave, and Steph, as a certified medical practitioner, had been called in for an emergency. She had thought it was strange that Oracle hadn’t specified who, and now Steph understood why. 
Danyal didn’t seem injured, other than a lower than average body temperature and a slightly slower heart rate, which was likely due to the body temperature, he seemed in relatively normal health. That was if he hadn’t been a 10 year old who had been marinating in Lazarus Water for seven years. Most of the bats had experience with Lazarus Water, and it had never been pleasant. But they hadn’t been in the prime years of their physical and mental development, and at most had been in the pits for an hour. 
Steph, Cass, Tim and Damian were in the medical room with Danyal. Jason had gone to his apartment, and said he would be back later, and to let him know if anything happened. Bruce had changed and gone straight up stairs, not taking the news of having a second kid who Talia had hidden from him and a second kid who had died very well. Dick had stayed for a while but he had an emergency work call and had to leave. Duke was still patrolling, since it was earlier in the day, but was being kept up to date on all news thanks to Oracle.  
Danyal was due to wake up any moment, and none of them knew how to feel about it. Not liking the morbid atmosphere of the whole manor, Steph decided to change topics. “Did Cassie tell you about what Conner and Bart did last week?”
Tim turned to face her happy for the distraction, Cass humored her with an intrigued look. “What?”
“Okay so basically- it was so cringe-” Steph let herself laugh “They were at the mall right. The one near Mount Justice, y’know-”
“-yeah it’s the same one they go to all the time.” Tim interjected, rolling his eyes. 
“Right, so-” The door opened, as Alfred walked in, cutting off her story but not unwelcome. 
“You’ve all been in here for quite some time, so I brought you some snacks. Sandwiches, fresh cookies, and water, juice and milk to drink. All your favorites, do indulge.” The old butler explained, rolling the cart through the door. 
“Thanks, Alfie.” Tim went to grab a glass of water, and a sandwich. 
“And anything for our newest addition?” Alfred questioned. 
“He’s not awake yet.” Damian said quietly, sipping at a glass of warm milk. Like a weirdo. 
“Is that so?” Alfred said with a thoughtful drawl to his voice, as he walked closer to the kid. “Hm…” He stroked his chin animatedly, slowly bringing himself closer to examine the boy’s face, but still keeping a comfortable distance. Steph was about to question what he was doing, only to see the boy’s eyes shoot open, and stare back at Alfred like a deer caught in headlights. Alfred straightened, as Danyal seemed to realize that he had been discovered. 
“What? How long was he faking being asleep?” Tim asked, baffled. 
“56 minutes.” Cass answered, easily. 
“Wait- you knew this whole time?” Steph asked betrayed, only for Cass to smile back cheekily. 
Damian didn’t say anything as Danyal sat up in his bed slowly, examining every one in the room. Steph tried to make herself seem non threatening but stayed ready in case the kid lashed out, not knowing how he would react. If it was anything like how Damian had been during his early days, it would pay to be ready. 
After a long moment of no one saying anything, Tim decided to prompt, “So, how’re you feeling, kid?” 
Danyal didn’t respond right away, instead watching Tim, Steph and Cass from his spot on the bed. Steph was beginning to wonder if this was another case, like Cass, where the kid had never been taught how to speak. Danyal opened his mouth hesitantly, looking over at Steph hesitantly, then Damian before answering. 
“Cringe.” There was a flat blunt honestness to his tone that added to the sudden comedy of the situation. Damian choked on his milk, and the room burst into laughter at the unexpected response. Danyal looked a little embarrassed at the reaction, but there was still a small smile on his face. 
Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad afterall. 
“Do you want some?” Damian asked, breaking a cookie in half and offering Danyal a piece. 
The younger boy took it, curiously, “What is it?” 
Damian took a bite, chewing it before responding, “A cookie.”
“Cookie.” Danyal repeated thoughtfully, before taking a little nibble of it. His eyes widened at the taste, “Woah.” 
“There’s plenty more of those, Young Master Danyal, I’m glad to see you enjoy them.” Alfred smiled happily at the reaction. 
“Really?” He asked hopefully. Steph tried to remember if Damian had been this cute when he had first come to the Manor. “Who are you?” Danyal asked again after a moment. 
“I’m Alfred Pennyworth, you can call me Alfred. I'm the butler at Wayne Manor, your father’s home where we currently are.” Alfred took a pause before speaking again, “Now, I hope you all will excuse me as I go fetch Master Bruce, he’s been quite excited to meet you, Young Master Danyal.”
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guys this was just suppose to be an itty bitty little thing. WHY DID IT TAKE ME 3 WHOLE DAYS??? im sensing a pattern and i'm not liking it.
I was suppose to be studying for physics :/
#danny and damian#character death but its danny#please someone help these poor traumatized kids#the mother gothel references go hard#danny is going thru it#first he gets stabbed/killed by the one person who's ever cared about him#gets dunked in a bunch of nasty green water#wakes up to find people in weird costumes chasing him#tries to get away from them when his powers start kicking in and tripping him and not helping at all#and then his mom find him and hes kinda scared out of his mind#and then more weird costume furries are chasing after him#but apparently its aged up damian and his father???#he deserved that cookie#yes that was totally parallelism from when damian first offered him chocolate and they started becoming friends#ngl idrk how i feel abt the end#damian ate the cookie first to prove it wasnt posion also y he ate the chocolate first#but also he was eavesdropping on them for almost an hr so he kid a had a vibe check on them#his ghost powers let him pick up on languages faster which is why he said cringe lol#he was trying to assimilate and get them to like him so they wouldn't get mad at him#also kinda explains y damian was so aginst having brothers#becasue he had a rly twisted understanding of what that is#damian the one (1) time he tries to socialize: yah i had a twin once#rando: oh wow thats so cool what r they doing now#damian casually: oh he's dead#rando: oh- oh wow im so sorry#damian: yah anyways have i told u abt my brother damian#also damian: idk y pple think im wierd#i actually want danny to be the older twin#just for the unhindged conversation of a 10 yr old turning to a 17 yr old and being like im older than u#and dami responding completely seriously yah but i lived longer than u
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francy-sketches · 6 months
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I dont want people to percieve aerion I want him to to stay a kind of niche silly evil character that I can stan ironically bc he may suck real bad but he's also a bit slay :( he's gonna get the aemond treatment they're gonna turn him into a dark romance daddy dom at best and they're gonna recreate lucemond with him and egg at worst...what if I ended it all
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crushedsweets · 1 year
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Yk actually I think we as a fandom need to stop separating things by “canon” vs “fanon” and instead describe it more like … dark . Vs not dark. Or smth of similar nature. Cuz some of the “canon” stuff is cool, made for horror purposes, super interesting and I enjoy it a lot, but it is simply not canon and that’s ok !!!!!! (I don’t actually think anyone needs to stop doing anything it’s not that deep)
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bonetrousledbones · 1 year
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my biggest irl secret is that at some point i started telling people i like drawing skeletons because i was too embarrassed to say i draw undertale fanart and that snowballed into getting more skeleton themed things which i liked but didnt really go out of my way for and now its not a lie anymore and whenever i need to buy something i will try my very best to find a skeleton version of it and now i’ve fallen to my self fulfilling prophecy of becoming the skeleton guy
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amazingspider-z · 5 months
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Back at it with Bleach!
AKA the: If arrancar get to look kind of like shinigami despite starting off as hollows, Visored should get to look a little bit hollow all the time despite starting off as shinigami. As a (not) treat. post
(Bonus: some more floating heads under the cut)
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Btw seeing gringos trying to dance tango or salsa is so 🫥🫥
Like I don't mind at all bro go off but like put some flavor in there I AM BEGGING i swear u won't die WHERE IS YOUR SOUL DO YOU NOT HAVE A HEART
#tango specifically gives me so much cringe but bc they have such a weird and wrong idea of how tanho is really like#i do not enjoy seeing it butchered#but i do not mind that other people dance it per se i just wish they cared a bit more about how it's traditionally danced#i was thinking about this seeing a gymnast the other day that had i think salsa in her routine?#(idk bc the volume was so low i just had to go by a bit of what i heard and her movements)#SHE WAS STIFF#all her routine was so beautiful and elegant and then that part... it was definitely there#but then i saw a YouTube video nd it was one of those where they teach how to dance x latinamerican rhythm#but the teacher is always yanki and the steps are all numbered and there's squares on the floor telling u where to step#and LISTEN i know it's useful to have a visual representation or a guide at first to figure out the movement#but please that's just at first u can't just go through life overthinking merengue bc u're gonna look dumb#even the teachers look like they are trying to hold a penny between their ass cheeks without it falling while they dance#u have to let go and just feel it at some point#some of our dances are so much more about the feeling or connection with your partner than about the technique#technique is still important but like#i would enjoy much more watching someone who doesn't know every dance so just does a couple basic steps but FEELS the music#and is just enjoying themselves while dancing#than seeing someone who spent an entire year learning every step and turn but they look petrified and scared while dancing#nobody is out to get u sweetheart u can let go PLEASE u're scaring the kids
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torkison · 5 months
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im actually unironically so happy that i got other mutuals to join me in monkees world and we've kind of created our own little box gang because before my only monkees mutuals were those who had kind of already gone through the throes of fixation together so they were all bonded like soldiers in the same trenches and i was still catching up so i felt kinda lonely because im a weird freak who doesn't know how to be normal about other people and also i felt like they all thought i was cringe. But then i got some other people into it and made new mutuals and it felt like i didn't have to be scared shaky kitten riddled with shame anymore because now we are all having fun in the box together. like I really think that head watchparty last night fixed me thanks guys
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steakout-05 · 4 months
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hot take: Skibidi Toilet (as in the og series and not the stupid exploitative content farm shit) isn't even as bad as people say it is. like yeah it's definitely silly and nonsensical, and maybe super young kids shouldn't exactly be watching it, but can you really say that the insanity of Skibidi Toilet isn't at all similar to the types of Gmod videos we used to watch when we were kids and teenagers? are we seriously trying to act like our own nonsensical Source Engine shitposting from way back in 2007 is somehow better than the more modern shitposting of Skibidi Toilet? or are we just deeming anything liked by kids as "cringe" now. cause that's what it seems like.
also the whole "Skibidi Toilet Syndrome" thing is really stupid and is literally just describing kids reenacting stuff they like on the internet which is a completely normal thing for kids to do. i used to reenact Viva Reverie's old MLP toy horse nonsense videos back when their channel was still called "IMATOONLINK" because they were funny as hell. kids acting out their favourite medias isn't new and it isn't suddenly a bad thing or a "syndrome" when it's something that's generally considered to be "cringe" on the internet. you guys are just mean.
#skibidi toilet#cringe culture unfortunately never went away. it just has a different coat of paint now.#people trying to pathologise their kids reenacting and doing their little skibidi cosplays as a ''syndrome'' will never not be funny to me#better go ahead and classify every slightly weird thing kids do as a syndrome because that is literally just normal kid behaviour#kids always incorporate a bit of their own experiences and the stuff they like into play. i did it all the time when i was a kid.#if i were a kid today would me reenacting mlp scenes word for word with my toys be considered a ''syndrome''? yeah i don't think so#so why is it suddenly a syndrome when kids reenact those silly gmod videos they watch online through play? hm?#is it actually an illness or do you just find it ''cringe''?#i think the double standards of the internet when it comes to what kids like are so fucking stupid#stop trying to act like your bizarre tf2 gmod videos are somehow better than the og skibidi series because i promise you they are not.#you're likely just clouded by nostalgia and being gatekeepy for no reason. let kids enjoy stuff and stop bashing it just because-#-''ohhh its so cringggeee'' when you used to watch the exact same type of shit when you were a kid.#i personally will always prefer ''Heavy's Odd Fastfood Experience'' to skibidi toilet but i don't bash the latter because it-#-doesn't bother me in any way and i don't care if kids like it. it's not evil or bad. it's just different.#anyway rant over gmod videos go hard and cringe will be dead someday#i will keep killing cringe until it's nothing but a tiny lil red stain on the floor
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lesbinewren · 2 years
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i think a lot of “normie” type people could benefit from an unjudgemental visit to like. a renaissance faire or something. and just see the fun and joy it brings people
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cookiedrm · 9 months
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"omg i had such a bad dsmp phase gross" "i cant believe i even liked them" "i wasnt in *that* part of the fandom" its okay to say you had fun and have moved on, you all know that right? the pressure to resent something just because the majority of people think its weird is honestly so sad. dsmp was not perfect obviously. it wasnt even planned. But it helped so many people discover things about themselves that still stick with them today even now that they've moved on. fanfictions, edits, fanart, friendships. and you should never feel like you have to put your old self down just because you enjoyed what you did. you had fun. you should never feel bad for having fun. especially if youre a younger person in this fandom.
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rewritingcanon · 9 months
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i know people go thru shit all the time but if you post about ur friends and the person ur dating online talking shit about them and you let ur followers bash them in the replies or something…. ur weird….
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nyanspirals · 1 month
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i rlly hope this doesnt come off as offensive and i am genuinely so sorry if it does but seeing u having a bf and having a good time at college makes me so hopeful for myself. ive always considered myself a little strange due to a bunch of factors with some being mental illness and its so refreshing seeing you talk about it so openly and still thrive with it. you're unapologetically you and you've found people that support you and love you for it and it just gives me so much hope thank you!!
i didnt reply to this earlier because i thought it was very sweet and it was making me really happy getting to see this in my inbox. i appreciate it :) and i think its always good to remind everybody that pretending to be something youre not because youre scared of the Shame that comes with being unapologetically you is simply not ever worth it. there are weird and strange people out there who will love you for you, and the more openly weird and strange you are the easier it becomes to find these people
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