#it is actually part of a plot point

[jamiesfootball]

📓

I have a thing where between the second and third season Dani took Jamie back with him to Mexico for most of the summer break. Dani's family spoiled them rotten with delicious food, and he met all of Dani's siblings and cousins and aunts and uncles. More than five of the young ones, they all want to be strikers like Dani and they all want to play for Mexico like Dani and they all look up to Dani with stars in their eyes and they make Jamie and Dani run drills with them until dinner. Dani's mama doesn't speak a word of english, but the whole time he's there she keeps patting him on the cheek and smiling and fussing and Jamie can't understand a word she says but he's never felt so certain in his life that he was in someone's good graces.

Amigo de Dani. Tu amigo, Dani? Dani's friend. He was Dani's friend, and for that they threw doors open wide and embraced him with the same warmth that made Dani burn like the sun.

It was overwhelming. It was fucking brilliant.

And while they were there they had like. A real camping trip. Tents on the ground and twenty of Dani's closest relatives getting plastered on tequila. At night him and Dani curl up in a tent and pass a bottle of mezcal back and forth without any real intent, too busy cackling over stupid jokes.

With Dani's sleeping bag pressed against his shoulder and a low tent hanging over him, Jamie doesn't feel crowded. Laying on the ground doesn't feel like a hardship; it feels like a sleepover. With the weight of an open sky hovering just out of sight, he feels small and free. The world feels vast with potential. He feels excited about what's waiting for him back in Richmond. They've been promoted, the lads like him, Roy Kent hugged him for fuck's sake. This time last year he was miserable in Manchester and contemplating nuking his career. It feels surreal, how much better his life has gotten.

Yeah, next year's going to be better. He knows it.

[rin-may-1103]

The Eyes of Death. Pt 2

Prev. | Master post | Next

"Robin!" Orcale cried through the coms, startling Damian as he ducked beneath a punch thrown his way. Growling, Damian Sparta kicked the goon before him, spun around, and throat-punched the last one standing.

"What?" he huffed, glancing around his area to see if he had missed something; Father was facing off against Penguin, Tim was taunting Mr. Freeze, and Jason was plowing his way through the rest of the goons down on the ground floor.

Gunshots flashed by and up toward the roof, drawing his attention.

Turning around, Damian watched as Dick jumped from the rafters and dropped two other goons with brutal precision, their guns clattering to the ground. That's four. He could still hear Steph and Cass fighting in the other room over the comms, which makes it six. (Seven if he counted Duke, who was at home resting after a long patrol) They were still up and fighting, which meant nothing was out of place.

"Your boyfriend wouldn't happen to be named Daniel Fenton, right?" Barbara's voice was strained. She practically begged him to correct her and prove she was mistaken.

Damian tensed up but rushed over to help down the goons surrounding Dick, his heart thundering away in his chest. "What happened?" he growled, drawing his katana when a goon quickly pulled a knife. The sound of metal against metal almost blocked her voice, but Damian could still make out what she said.

"He's been taken by some cultists, they're broadcasting everything. They're setting up the ritual right now; they cut his arm and are using his blood mixed with black paint to mark the ground. I'm pretty sure he's in shock, he barely reacted to the cut."

"Oh, shit!" Steph cursed, "not the boyfriend!"

"Where?" he grunted, parrying the knife away and kicking the guy over the railing. The man's scream cut out as his body hit the floor. "Robin!" Father hissed in anger, quickly tying up Penguin.

"He'll live!" Damian shouted back as he marched toward the door and reached for his grapple gun, "Oracle! Where is he?"

The others could finish up here without him, they had already dealt with what the two rouges had been planning. All that was left was to gather up the goons and hand everyone over to the GCPD. His boyfriend, who hadn't texted him to tell him he had gotten home safe because apparently he'd been kidnapped by cultists, was more important than beating the crap out of some lowly goons.

"The Financial District, warehouse seven on 4th street." she huffed, the sound of keys clicking as she sent him the live footage. Clicking the side of his mask, he was met with the sight of his boyfriend bound to a chair and glaring up at the camera. His blue eyes were filled with more annoyance than fear, but that didn't reassure Damian at all when the camera backed up and revealed Danny's heavily bleeding arm.

They must have cut an artery with how deep the wound looked. The only reason he wasn't already dead from blood loss was because of how tight the ropes were, it seemed.

"Shit," Damian hissed as he shot his grapple up at the building across the street, "make sure an ambulance is en route, Danny's going to need it. They must have cut through his radial artery if not both."

He could hear Dick hold back a gasp at his words but ignored it, as he flew toward the roof and started running. A loud thud landed behind him, followed by footsteps as Father's gruff voice echoed into his ear as they ran. "Jets on its way, it'll be faster than the car." Damian silently changed direction, continuing to jump roofs.

"I'm coming with," Dick demanded, landing a couple buildings behind them. Damian grunted in acknowledgment, not caring what they did. He needed to be there, he needed to be there thirty minutes ago; when he should have been walking Danny home like he asked him too.

"GOTHAM!" the person holding the camera shouted with a slip of paper in their other hand, allowing the camera a glimpse of the words. Danny's eyes narrowed even more, something like disbelief filling his eyes as the man continued talking, "Tonight, you shall join us as we summon the most powerful being in the world!"

"Danny looks so disappointed," Dick snorted, pulling out his own grapple at the sound of the jet approaching. Of course, Danny was disappointed, it was a waste of paper just to remember so little. Damian agreed but couldn't do anything other than huff at his brother's comment, most of his focus on watching the video.

Dick wrapped an arm around him, firing at the jet just as it rocketed overhead. They were launched into the air and dragged over buildings as the jet flew toward their destination. Father dangled across from them for a second before the three of them latched onto the rail under the jet designed for quick departure. They sat in silence as all three of them focused back on the video feed.

"Now," the leader shouted, coming into view as the cameraman backed up. Danny and the freshly painted circle were in full view, but so was the group of people off to the side. Damian recognized two of the people on the ground. Nancy and Wyatt, Danny's forcibly appointed college guides or "parents".

Damian remembers the day Danny had been introduced to them, spouting vitriol in anger about them being acephobic and how the college wouldn't allow him to switch guides. Nancy was crying, her mascara running down her face. Wyatt was deathly pale, all the blood bleeding away from his face as he watched the cultists in what looked like horrified guilt.

"Let us begin," the leader cheered, grabbing Danny's shoulders from behind him. Danny glanced worriedly at the group and then at the camera like he couldn't decide what he should focus on, subconsciously cringing away from the man behind him.

"Join me as we summon our lord and savior!" Danny narrowed his eyes in anticipation, "The great tyrant of the dead!" he now looked confused, "The embodiment of war and bloodshed!" back to worried, "The one named PARIAH DARK!" amused, because of course, his boyfriend would find the name amusing, "THE HORRIFIC GHOST KING!!!" now he was back to confused and worried.

The leader turned and walked back over to one of his followers, snatching an old book and opening it. Without any fanfare, the man began chanting, guiding his followers like he was the director of a twisted play.

"ten minutes," Father grunted, "Oracle, get everything you can on the ghost king. We need to know what we're about to run into. Call someone from Dark, we'll probably need their guide on how to deal with this."

Dick readjusted his grip, tightening his arm in reassurance as Danny's eyes glanced up and toward the rafters like he was looking for one of them. No, not like. He was looking for them; because Damian had promised him in the past that if he was ever in trouble, the bats would save him. And if not them then he would. Danny had rolled his eyes at the time, sarcastically calling him his hero. But he believed him because Damian had promised.

Damian growled as one of the cultists smashed a bowl on the ground, splattering Danny in what he had to assume was the blood and paint mixture Barbera had told him about earlier.

Damian watched as Danny glared at the black stains all over his front with disdain, trying to mutter something through the gag in his mouth the camera couldn't catch. "Is he seriously worried about his shirt?" Tim huffed over comms, the sound of police sirens growing louder.

"I would too if that's the only nice shirt I had," Steph grumbled before shouting something at someone.

"My boyfriend owns more than one shirt, Spoiler." Damian hissed.

"No offense, Damian," Steph laughed, "but your boyfriend looks like he crawled out of a dumpster after losing a fight against one of your raccoons."

"Oh, give him a break! The poor boy's just been kidnapped, of course, he looks bad." Barbera chided.

Damian went to respond but stopped to watch as another cultist stepped forward and tossed salt at Danny. Danny shook his head and glared at the cultist, only to be slapped in the face with another handful of salt for his efforts.

"That's one way to rub salt in the wound," Jason huffed, "make sure you kick that one in the dick for me."

"With pleasure," Damian grumbled, leaning back to try and see the warehouse they were heading toward. "Seven minutes," Father added, noticing how impatient Damian was starting to get.

they silently watched as the cultists continued chanting, Barbera occasionally telling them things she'd found. (She was having difficulty connecting with The Dark members, something about an unexpected mission off-world.)

Danny was starting to look tired, his face paler than usual (A hard feat, considering his boyfriend looked like a fresh corpse on a good day. If he didn't know any better, he would think his boyfriend had never spent a second in the sun his entire life.)

Suddenly, Danny started to cough, shaking his head, clenching his eyes closed in pain for a second before focusing back on the leader. "The blood loss is starting to catch up to him," Tim commented as Danny glanced up at the rafters again, "let the hospital know to have extra blood ready."

"Got it," Barbera agreed, still typing away. "No one's answering, I'm going to try Constantine, now."

"Two minutes," Father warned, getting ready to jump. Damian steadied himself, leaning forward to time his jump correctly. "Shit," Jason cursed, drawing Damian's attention back to the video in time to watch as a cultist raised a bloody blade into the air and slammed it into Danny's chest. "You need to get there, now!"

The cultist yanked out the knife and handed it to the leader, who was now standing in front of Danny. Danny's chest quickly stained red, his eyes wide in shock and horror.

"Take this lowly sacrifice as a sign of our eternal loyalty, and grace us with your presence! Your humble servants plead that your godly ears hear our prayers! Join us in this mortal realm and bequeath us your power and name to rectify the sins of our brethren!" the leader's voice echoed in the silent warehouse like a gunshot. but Damian couldn't hear a single word the man spoke as he watched Danny lean forward in pain, trying to grab at his chest.

His restrained hands pulled against the rope, causing more blood to leak from his wound, his eyes clenching shut as his left hand started glowing green. He suddenly started screaming, his voice strained like it was being ripped out of his throat, barely muffled by the gag.

A bright light flashed, spreading from where he'd been stabbed and crawling over his body. His skin turned gray, almost blue, like a body found out in a snowstorm. His hair started floating in an absent current like he was underwater. and his eyes started glowing a bright blue, growing brighter and brighter.

"NOW!" Father shouted, launching off the railing and gliding through the air. Damian didn't hesitate to follow, all his training allowing him to go on autopilot as he used his cape to guide his fall.

Danny slumped forward, his head hanging limp as the warehouse went deathly silent.

Twisting in the air, Damian aimed his grapple hook and fired. It latched onto the warehouse and tugged him forward, his fall turning into a swing as he rocketed toward the glass window. "Your Highness?" someone asked, their voices glitching in and out with the video feed.

Damian watched as the Danny in the video slowly lifted his head in time with the Danny he could see through the quickly approaching glass. Damian only had a split second to register that his boyfriend's eyes were no longer blue, but bright green before his feet smashed through the window and he was landing in a roll on the ground.

Immediately, the camera feed disappeared from his view, allowing him to focus on what was around him. Father crashed through the skylight, showering the cultists in glass as he landed on the other side of the room. Dick landed next to him, fluidly popping up from his roll.

"Shit!" someone shouted, "it's the bats!"

"run!" someone else yelled.

Damian lunged forward, burying his fist into the first cultist's face with a satisfying crunch. The warehouse flooded with loud screams and rapid movement.

"Dammit!" the leader cursed, dragging Damian's attention over to him. He had left the circle at some point, crazily looking around to try and find a quick exit.

Abandoning the cultists he was fighting, Damian quickly sprinted at the man. Unsheathing his katana, Damian attacked. The leader used the bloody knife to parry, scrambling back to get away. Damian growled, about to follow when his eyes landed on Danny's black and blood-stained face right behind the man.

Bright Lazarus green eyes stared back.

~

Danny's vision tilted, or was that just his head? It felt like he was in one of those twisty things NASA shoves their astronauts in under the claim of training for departure and reentry into Earth's atmosphere. or maybe it felt like a hundred pounds of soaked cotton balls shoved behind his eyes and lit on fire?

he couldn't tell, at this point, his head could be detached for all he knew. Wait, no. He's done that before, this feels nothing like that. So, he still had his head... but does his head still have a body???

He would glance down, but he's afraid he won't be able to lift his head again... Had he lifted his head? or had the world moved around him like it does in the realms? Where was he?

Danny's core pulsed in confusion as someone stepped over the circle, quickly followed by someone else. No one was supposed to enter unless a deal was about to be made. Had he made a deal?

Blinking, he focused his blurry vision as much as he could on the figure slowly approaching him. Had he already been looking at them? His vision tilted again, making his gut roll in nausea. A voice slowly broke through the static ringing in his ears, and his shirt suddenly pulled in frightened hands.

"Your Highness! these are the sinners I told you about!" the voice screeched, a pitch so out of the norm that Danny could only assume the voice belonged to a small fly-turned-eldritch little girl.

Wait a moment, that was his title? Your Highness? seriously? Was everyone going to be calling him that? He was the king; wasn't it supposed to be majesty??? He'll ask Dora later; now wasn't the time.

"Oh great ghost king!" the high-pitched voice cracked and lowered back to one he was starting to get familiar with, "Pariah Dark, lend me your power so I might defeat him!"

Did he seriously just call Danny, Pariah??? The man, the leader of the cult, Mr. totally-read-one-fake-ritual-book-when-he-was-a-teen-and-now-has-to-make-it-everyone's-problem, kneeled in front of Danny, his hands twisted into Danny's ruined shirt. The blurry figure froze, not moving now that Danny had broken eye contact to look down at the horrible man.

Danny might be completely out of it and have no idea what's going on anymore, (he was in so much pain, why was there so much pain? he wanted it to go away, why wasn't it going away?) but he's been trained for moments like this. He can't let anyone see him as weak, not when he has to protect the realms as is his kingly duty.

Clockwork thought it would be a good idea to drop him in the middle of a meeting with some demons right after Danny had pulled an all-nighter and fought three of his rouges. let's just say, Danny was not pleased with the old goat after that. On the other hand, every time he meets a new demon, they seem to respect him much more than before. (he's still not sure what he did to earn that, but whatever)

So, acting like nothing was wrong would be easy peasy.

Sitting up straight, like Dora taught, Danny gazed down at the man who had demanded his attention. He turned his jaw intangible, dropping the gag and allowing him to speak freely again, "why should I?" His voice was echoey, cold, and devoid of the usual emotion.

It was completely different than what it usually was. Like he was a completely different person. (He sounded like Dan) which caught Danny off guard, but he had to ignore it for now. Clockwork had said that Danny Phantom was different from King Phantom, maybe this is what he meant. (hopefully not, he hated sounding like Dan. Was this permanent? was he always going to sound like this???)

"Why?" the leader stumbled, letting go of Danny's shirt in surprise, "because I summoned you! I control you!"

He looked outraged like it was Danny's fault he was in this mess.

Snorting, Danny smirked at the man. "Why should I lend you my power when you haven't even gotten my name correct?" That was like common summoning courtesy 101, right? Frostbite said something like that... or was it Pandora? Wait... wasn't that the demon etiquette? What was the ghost-summoning etiquette then? Also, could he even lend his power to someone else??? like, demons could, but could Danny???

"Who cares!" the man snapped, picking up the knife he had dropped next to him and slashing it at Danny. He didn't even have to think as he instinctively turned his right arm intangible and snatched the man's wrist, clenching it tightly to make him drop it. He was not going to let the man stab him again, thank you very much.

his core grumbled in annoyance, scattering his thoughts for a moment. What was he doing? his arm burned like it had been shot with an ecto blast, but that wasn't right, it was cut by-

Oh, right. cultists. Gotta deal with that.

Fazing the ropes off, Danny carefully stood up. An almost silent whine drew his attention up; it was the fuzzy figure, or now that Danny could actually see a little easier, Robin. Huh, looks like the bats actually made it after all. A little late to the party, but oh well.

Wait...

Shit, he didn't need the Bats up in all of his business. Especially since everything the ritual did to him was recorded, the ghostly stuff included. (Was Damian watching? Did he think Danny was dead now? a normal person would have died right?) He'd have to clear up any misinterpretations later, right now he has to focus on gaslighting the Fuck out of Batman and his partners.

Maybe he won't even have to deal with the Justice League if he pulls this off.

ok, what do they think the situation is? A Cult recording themselves sacrificing some random dude, the dude gets stabbed in the chest (probably assumed dead, he'll have to fix that...), then some ghostly shit happens, and the dude has glowing eyes... which basically lines up with the socially accepted symptoms of possession.

Cool, cool, cool. Danny'll just act like he's possessing himself then. No need to make it weird. Or reveal that he's a halfa.

...

How the fuck was a ghost king, who for all intents and purposes, knows nothing about mortal life, supposed to act when possessing a random body????? does he call it his body?? vessel? homing beacon?

"-leas me this intance! I summoned you, you listen to me! ME! I summoned you. Therefore, you have to do as I say!" the leader's voice broke through Danny's thoughts, bringing him back to the present. Again. Man, he seriously needs to get his shit together. Maybe it was the blood loss, they had cut him pretty badly earlier...

Sighing, which hurt a lot actually... he should probably fix that. Mentally shrugging, Danny allowed his ectoplasm to heal his wounds, which in turn settled his core a lot more than he expected. Maybe he shouldn't suppress it so much in the future... OR he should, and just not allow himself to be used in other rituals. Yeah, that's probably it. Man, he's going to have to talk with Frostbite after this is all over.

"You know nothing of which you speak, mortal," Danny grumbled, turning slowly to examine the warehouse. The bats had been fast, or Danny was just really out of it, because not only were all the cultists knocked out but the other hostages were gone.

"I know enough!" the man screeched, hitting his free fist against Danny's arm in an attempt to get Danny to release him. The only thing that was going to do was leave a bruise. Robin growled almost silently in response, which was weird. Why would Robin be upset about this man hitting Danny? or was he more upset along the lines of believing the random "hostage" Danny is "possessing" being hurt?

Yeah, that was probably it. All right, time to act all Ghost Kingly or whatever. If he was about to do something stupid then Clockwork would intervene. Since he hasn't so far, Danny was taking this as the old man giving his permission to proceed.

"Stop bruising my new favorite vessel, or I'll show you why it's a bad idea to mess with the dead." Danny hissed, pulling the man up so they were eye to eye. (it wasn't that hard, considering Danny was short as fuck. Who knew dying would stunt your growth?)

The man leaned back, his eyes wide in fear. His face turned green, or was that just the light from Danny's eyes? how bright were they glowing???

Oh, right, old ghost king, you need to focus here Danny.

Rolling his eyes, Danny harshly (not as hard as he could have though, even if he wanted to punt the man into the sun) tossed the man out of the circle and toward Robin. Nightwing, who Danny had just noticed was also there, quickly rushed over and wrangled the man over to the pile of cultists and tied him up.

"Your vessel," Batman grunted, stepping up to stand next to Robin. (Danny wasn't sure when, but Robin had left the circle. Which meant they probably had someone with magic experience telling them what to do now.)

"Yes, mine," Danny huffed, slowly turning to study the broken windows. his head was killing him, like four migraines stuffed into one killing him...

Do they not know how to use a door? Like, how often do they break through windows? Like, sure, it probably saves them a few extra seconds during a fight, but seriously? Do they at least pay the owners back for the property damage?

"He's not yours," Robin hissed, unsheathing his katana. Batman rested his hand on his shoulder, likely to warn Robin from doing something stupid.

Lifting his brow, Danny glanced down at his body. Did Robin know him? Or was he really just that protective of the people in his city? Even though Danny wasn't technically a Gothamite? He remembered Damian telling him at one point that if he was ever in trouble, the bats would save him. Hmm, yeah, probably just very protective of the people in their city then.

Danny was the same way when he was Phantom; those tourists might not be native Amity Parkers, but they were his tourists. So back off, ghost number 700 of the week. Or something along those lines.

Yeah, that's probably it.

"He," oh wow, speaking about himself was so weird, "was used as a sacrifice to summon me, which makes him mine." Ignoring the fact that his body belonged to him beforehand because, again, this is his body, but you know, can't tell them that. Also, even if this was someone else's body, it'd technically be Danny's. Look, being the ghost king meant Danny owned a lot of weird things, one of those being literally anyone's dead body. (He refused to think about the fact that Pariah had technically owned his body.)

Glancing up, Danny watched as Batman tightened his grip on Robin's shoulder. "Release his body at once, you lowly demonic pit waste! His body-"

"OK!" Nightwing cut in, clapping his hands. "How about this," he glanced at Robin and then back at Danny, clearly nervous about Robin's outburst. Also, what the hell was pit waste? Like, obviously Robin was insulting him, but he could have at least used an insult Danny would understand.

Also, why was Robin insulting a supposedly all-powerful king of the dead? Wasn't he supposed to be one of the more rational vigilantes? Maybe he just got emotional when he thought he failed to protect someone? Which is completely understandable, Danny did not react well when he failed to keep someone safe.

"We apologize for any wrongdoing Robin's words have caused. You willingly go back to your realm, leave your vessel's body behind, and we" he gestured at himself and the other two, "don't get other magic users involved? how does that sound?"

"Is that a threat?" because seriously, that sounded exactly like a threat. Did they seriously not know how to talk to other dimensional beings? Shouldn't they, as Justice League members, know how to diplomatically converse with others? Especially ones that could kill them with a glance? (like, Danny obviously wouldn't do that, but come on!)

His core stuttered again, drawing his attention to the fact that Danny was running out of power to keep up whatever transformation he'd taken on. Which was weird because he's obviously not in his ghost form, so why was it so draining??? And there's plenty of ectoplasm in the air, so, like, this was just ridiculous.

"Whatever," Danny huffed, looking down to study the circle as Nightwing started waving his hands in denial. "I already healed the vessel, he'll technically live." He could feel the pull it had on his core, which meant he had no idea what would happen once it was broken. Would he feel the same things he felt earlier? or would it just be like letting go of someone's hand?

Man, he was too tired for this crap. He wanted to go home and sleep. maybe steel his boyfriend's hoodie and cuddle with Cujo.

You know what? Danny didn't care, he should just break the circle and act like nothing happened. Yep, that's the plan. Still, he should probably prepare for if something goes wrong, you know, like passing out.

Carefully, both because the world was still kind of spinning around him, and to keep the bats from reacting badly, Danny made his way to stand in front of the Vigilantes. They should have quick reflexes; if he passes out, they should be able to catch him, right?

Without warning, Danny dragged his shoe over the line and broke the circle. Immediately his core hissed and all of his energy disappeared. Crumpling forward, Danny barely processed the sight of Robin's panicked lunge to catch him before everything turned dark and his body felt on fire.

Next

[ifellintothestyx]

It will never not be funny to me that in Thousand Autumns, Shen Qiao is just the one normal, reasonable person while everyone else is living in a classic Wuxia drama

Basically every book conversation is just this:

Yu Ai: I had to poison you because you disagreed with everything I said, so I deemed you an incapable and naive sect leader! You would bring Mt. Xuandu to ruin!

Shen Qiao: I'm sorry, "had" to? We could've talked things out, y'know, like how normal people settle disagreements, but no, poison was clearly the only option left. You "had" to poison me. Right.

---

Yan Wushi: You and I are diametrically opposed. You are weak and undeserving of my attention. You fail to live up to my expectations and bring shame upon your master's legacy. Why would I need a friend like you so presume?

Shen Qiao: I didn't say you needed one, just that that's what I call you. You literally followed me around for months, ate with me, sparred with me, saved my life, and opened my eyes to the outside world... What on earth did you want me to call you that wouldn't be rude?

(Honestly knowing YWS's melodramatic ass, SQ probably just went through a mental list of statuses you could give to someone based on their proximity, realized that YWS is very much an outlier and also very much particular about his titles and general importance, picked "friend" as the safest option.)

---

Chen Gong: You look down on me because I'm from poor origins and never had the background or pedigree that you did so you disdain my methods!

Shen Qiao: ... You are holding. A child. Hostage. Literally every time I've met you you're doing something that doesn't agree with my morals and endangering human life. I genuinely do not care about your background, you just happen to be doing something I don't agree with and also tends to end up becoming my problem.

(No really, CG has like such a massive unrequited hatred for SQ while SQ is just lamenting that they somehow always end up meeting at the worst times in the worst places)

---

Half of the characters: Look how lowly you've become! From sect leader to boy toy! Everyone point and laugh!

Shen Qiao: Harsh but true, I suppose. Oh well, I should get back to what I'm doing.

[hyacinthsdiamonds]

I'm sorry but the irony of Nico calling Max unprofessional is sending me so bad like sir there's an entire garage full of people, who were literally in the trenches trying to survive the Brocedes fallout while just doing their jobs, who might have a few things to say about your (& Lewis') level of professionalism at that time 😭✋️

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

"What do you mean their name isn't Beef?"

(for @moondal514)

[kirianthedivorce]

I don’t think this is going to end with Gemma being completely alive and back to normal and everything’s happy but like, I am a little baffled by people’s insistence that mark trying to get her back is unhealthy

Like. If you think your wife dies but then it turns out she appears to be alive and being held hostage in a basement somewhere, presumably stolen just before death by the deeply unethical medical company who has contacts and influence in just about every organisation in your area (including the hospital and the morgue), and you happen to have access to some parts of said basement then doing what you can to get her out of there isn’t an unhealthy refusal to move on. That’s like. A relatively normal response to an insane situation.

Like is the healthy option to just leave your seemingly alive and well wife in the basement of the evil medical company to be experimented on? Mark doesn’t even know she can’t remember anything (and to be honest, neither do we. We’ve only seen her innie. We have no idea what her ‘outie’ is like. I doubt it’s normal regular Gemma, but we don’t know). The experimental brain surgery is unideal but the desire to rescue her is like. The only normal response to that information

[dennisboobs]

:) i certainly have no issue dressing in drag :)

^guy who has no issue dressing in drag btw

glenn said that dennis' drag name is victoria von hemen btw

(Source)

[vintagerobin]

"(Batfam member) is a better parent to (other Batfam member) than Bruce" is such a tired take to me because more often than not it involves really flattening and reducing the character being assigned the "good parent" role. These are all complex characters with their own flaws which can and do affect how they interact with those in their care.

[perpetualcynicism]

“Shikanoin-sama, I am trying to pray. I would be very grateful if I were able to do so in peace.”

“Sorry, sorry. Of course.” A pause. “It’s just that you look so… yummy.”

You withhold a sigh. In a controlled manner, you say, “Shikanoin-sama, please refrain from having thoughts of cannibalism while inside the shrine.”

“Ah, it’s not cannibalism, though,” he points out. “I’m not human, remember?” The statement is accompanied by a flick of his ears.

“Please refrain from having thoughts of eating me while in the shrine,” you rectify evenly. The exasperation you feel does not leak out into your tone.

You can almost hear the kitsune’s pout forming on his face. “…Not even a bite? One little bite? One tiny little bite?” He leans over and pinches his thumb and forefinger together beside your head for demonstration, in case the original message was unclear. 

You reply, “I cannot stop you, Shikanoin-sama. However, if you do so, I will need to ask you to leave.”

“Aw…” His footsteps retreat somewhere behind you. When there is silence, you breathe out and empty your mind, refocusing on your prayer. 

O-Inari-sama…

You feel a soft puff of air on the back of your neck. The hairs on your nape prickle and stand on end; you suppress the shudder that arises. 

You crack your eyes open to cast Shikanoin a stern look. He is standing a few paces away, looking around the shrine’s interior in an exaggerated display of distraction. When he meets your eye, he pulls a surprised face. “What are you looking at me for?” he asks in a tone of complete innocence. “It must have been the wind. It’s very breezy in here, you know.” 

You purse your lips and shut your eyes, thinking, Inari give me strength. 

Just as you have settled back into focus, you feel it again, this time tickling the outer shell of your ear. With a curt sigh, you straighten your back, turning to face him. “Shikanoin-sama, I am afraid must ask you to leave.”

He pulls back from your side. “What? But that wasn’t even biting!”

“Now,” you enunciate, before adding, “Please.”

“Alright, alright, I’m going,” the kitsune grumbles. He walks backwards out of the shrine, taking slow and deliberate steps. His hands are held out in front of him, his four tails bowed down behind him, as if that is sufficient to convince you of his sincerity. “See? Oh—but before I do go, tell me—are all miko this stingy?”

The urge to return a piece of his tormenting behaviour is irresistible. You allow a drip of sardonicism to enter your voice. “No, only me,” you say without looking at him. “So it is a pity that I am the one you ended up bound to, isn’t it?”

You cannot be certain how your remark is received, so you steal a glance in his direction. To your mild surprise, the kitsune is smiling as he steps outside of the doors.

Once certain you are alone, you decide it best to start the prayer anew. You bow twice, then clap your hands. Pressing your palms together, you mumble, “O-Inari-sama, I do not know why you have sent your messenger to me, nor how I ought to respond to his behaviour. I will admit he does not align with what I expected of a divine spirit, but… I trust there is a reason for this. Please grant me the patience and strength of will to accept his wisdom, and if nothing else, please allow me to retain my privacy in his presence. You are the one who understands most deeply its importance to me.”

You linger in silence for a moment longer. A draft of wind brushes past and rustles the sakura growing outside the shrine. It is breezy here with the spring wind ushering in, you must admit. You bow deeply in front of the altar once more before making your way to the exit.

[helianthus21]

I think there's sth to be said about the first meeting of Marius + Armand vs that of Armand + Daniel.

Marius appearing to Armand as a savior when he lies half-dead in the brothel (I think Armand even says he thought for a moment it was Jesus Christ coming to answer his prayers) vs Armand appearing to Daniel as a nightmare creature. Marius carrying Armand out of a dark and bleak place vs Armand actively locking Daniel up in a cellar lmao. Armand being like "oh please would a monster give food and shelter to poor orphan boys?" when Marius calls himself a monster vs Daniel openly and affectionately calling Armand an evil bug who devours millions of lives.

sth sth seeing the sleek facade first vs. immediately being confronted with the ugly parts. sth sth a story of salvation turning into one of horror vs a horror story turning into a (gothic) love story.

[artbyblastweave]

It's really amazing to me the extent to which the last issue of TF2 comics has caused basically the entire project to snap together into something pretty thematically coherent, and the theme in question is the same as Dead Money

[aroaceleovaldez]

tbh my latest biggest theory for why HoO and onwards is such a dramatic drop in quality and consistency is just. Rick stopped making teaching guides.

Like, the Lightning Thief teacher's guide is SUPER in-depth with even stuff like sources about middle grade child psychology and exact specifications of where he's applying that, explaining what different character's goals/motivations are, their dynamics with each other and their environments, etc etc. Even specifying which specific myths certain plot elements are supposed to reference or be about.

That stuff just doesn't exist for later books. There's activity guides and smaller, significantly more simple teacher guides for later books but they don't go into anywhere NEAR the same level of depth. The TLT one is a full lesson plan that breaks down the book at every level and explains what's going on and more or less why Rick did that. The others are all basically just glossaries of terminology and some simple question guides.

And they didn't even use the TLT teacher's guide for the Disney+ show because they clearly aren't adhering to any of what's discussed in that breakdown of the book.

By creating a teaching guide alongside writing the actual book, that's forcing you to document what you're doing, why, your sources, and information about your characters and the story they're in. It's like an even more in-depth version of a series bible. But that's lacking for later books (and etc) and it shows because that level of thought and depth and attention just isn't there anymore.

[blueskittlesart]

Wait wait, what the Loz sibling manga?

oh god i want to say it was one of the early NES promo mangas. iirc it was by mishouzaki?? it was legitimately batshit insane. they obviously hadnt figured out like. ANY lore whatsoever at that point and im not entirely sure that mishouzaki ever actually. played the game. or even read the manual. so the triforce functioned as like. a typical 80s manga space-weapon almost and zelda wore like a mech suit at one point and link experienced actual in-universe racism multiple times and at the end of the manga it's revealed that link and zelda are half-siblings because zelda's mother CHEATED ON HER HUSBAND

[ctrl-lupin]

looks like 'Lupin being on the brink of death' is becoming a tradition for season finales

[stacytea]

I've been chewing today a little too much on the idea of the oath being an eldritch foreign presence in fëanorionses' minds and the pulp that I keep on chewing on now is that the oath would actually be visible if someone did them brain scans. Not like brain tumors or some normal illness, it would look like these pictures of ghosts where it's always a blurry dark fog usually with something resembling eyes and mouth.

[journeyman-tier-fibercraft]

I'm a little late for WIP Wednesday but I haven't knit since Wednesday so it still counts right?

I have absolutely smashed this underarm portion of the back panel, on row 153/160 (95%!!!). However. My goal for the underarm length is 24 inches. And I'm currently at 22. T-T I will Increase My Total (168 will probably work but I'll report back when I have motivation)

I'm already looking ahead to the upper back portion, which will be about 64 rows based on my gauge. Plus a couple more rows for shoulder shaping.... I'm Actually on row 153 out of 238. 64% finished.

I'm usually a Process Knitter but this is very much a Product Knitter's project. I keep daydreaming about all the lace shawls I could be knitting (but never wear). But the Evil Pink Cardigan.... My precious...