#rather accurate for both

[capesch-arts]

Arthur and Nyarlathothep

Let's be quick, Kay? Your shiny keeper is going to be worried sick!

"What? Why?"

Well, he can't see inside here, my good pal. Let's just say for both of your sakes, it's for the better.

"I- um... Questions... Hastur said, you're one of the only gods here that carries great knowledge. At least, one that is willing to give to us."

Awww shucks, that makes me blush! And yes! In fact, I've been waiting for you to come back to me.

"Yes I- what do you mean, back?"

Oh, my poor little lost lamb! I guess you should remember. Addison? Ever wondered why you never blew it up sky high?

"Yes, because it was risky to detonate a coal mine and it... No... We ... We made a deal..."

Uh-huh. I happened to LIKE the gal running that town, and I couldn't let you destroy it! So... What did we do?

"You offered to hide the book with his heart and gave me a decoy. But- but it wasn't you- it was a friend- it- .... Altering my memory was part of the deal..."

So your yellow fellow won't find out it was me! He was still uh, grumpy, at me. Hoho. But, that's another story. Hmm and then? And then?

"I took the deal but there was a price... Oh gods..."

Yes... I swore to hide the book somewhere outside of your mind BUT, you need to let The King in Yellow to PLUCK your soul out from your scrawny lil' meat sack.

"... That's right... I chose to leave her... I.."

We're not all perfect dads, Arthur! We all make HARD decisions. I should know! I had a daughter too, you know! But, trust me. This was the best option ya got. Remember his attack dog? What was his name Happy Dick or something? I don't know. Back then he would command him to kill your little girl. He would Artie. And he'd LAUGH at your face too. So... It is what is, dear boy...

"Why are you telling me this?"

Well, I kinda feel bad for letting you in the dark... hmm maybe? A lil' bit? I'm still deciding... since you stole my ex from me .. BUT, I actually CARE about that big ol' peacock. Well, for one reason or another...

"But, why? I'm not your friend nor is Hastur. In fact, all I've heard from the other residents of the Dreamlands is they're terrified of him. Why would you want to help him?"

I have my own personal reasons and a less personal one. Specifically regarding The Blind Idiot.

"The Blind Idiot?"

Azathoth! The creator of all. Big ol' stupid deadbeat dad of mine. I have issues

"From what I've gathered, or what I've gained from asking The King, he's the creator of all. He's a source of ultimate chaos and that the reality we exist in is his dreams..."

Correct! And a big powerful idiot like him needs to sleep SOUNDLY. And do you know who needs to make sure of that?

"No, who?"

ME. I need to keep him HAPPY. and ASLEEP! If he wakes up then [pop] everything ends... Everything dies... All the chaos? All the cults? Why do I need to make sure they exist? I need to feed that idiot. Sacrifices. Rituals. Chaos. Yadda Yadda Yadda FUCK THAT. Do you know how STRESSFUL IT IS keeping your SENILE BRAINLESS PAPPY content? FUCK IT'S HARD. like- like- having a vein CONSTANTLY on the brink of POPPING. WHOOOO! Calm down, calm down. Well, until The King came and everything was... Manageable. I don't need to make that TWIT sleep happily anymore...

"Why The King? What's so special about Hastur?"

Well, let me start with big ol' pappy. You're spot on! The very reality we're standing in is his dreams. It started out as a "good" dream. No pain, no madness, no death, no FLAVOUR! Endless power and chaos! No rules! No stakes! No NOTHING! Just a "happy" little dream with no in-betweens.

"I thought he's the embodiment of amorphous and ultimate chaos? How is that good and happy?"

Well, a world with no restrictions can seem chaotic to your pea brain now, Arthur?

"Well you don't have to rub it in"

CONTINUING...! A boring little dream with the appeal of boiled chicken...! Until... He had a nightmare. It was a small one. So MINISCULE. So... Out of reach.. yet it became the center of his attention.

It started as a dancer. A jester! To be precise. Dancing in the middle of all that chaos for all to see. So small and yet so blaring! So... Yellow. With a wide smile and a happy little song serenading every flow of its movement. And as it danced and danced, it became slower, stiffer, weaker... And the smile on its face gradually faded and became a pitiful frown. As it turned its last tune, it fell! Broken! Withered and pale... It DIED.

"How would that-"

Come on, Arthur! You're an ARTIST! You should know that you humans could give MEANING to death. But for us? Death? Actual death for us is TERRIFYING. And for Azathoth, it was damning. The slow decay and withering of life, weakening and fading out existence, before being subjected to a fate lower than oblivion. It's the reason why every offspring he has, has so much power, Artie! He's projecting his fears to us by giving us tremendous power. Even though it is ultimately futile...

"How does this connect with The King in Yellow?"

That nightmare woke The King up, Artie. And not only that, he was a WILD ONE. No one seems to know what he is or why he is but the moment he existed, DEATH! DECAY! THE END! Came with him and SPREAD throughout this little dream we call our reality. And despite that, he's still singing and playing his songs like some sort of MOCKERY towards the father of all. Well, until his recent block that is... Carcosa dying and all that...

"And that's why you're relieved of your duties? Hastur became daddy's new favourite?"

Oh Arthur... Didn't you hear what I said? I said he WOKE up not that he's BORN from the nightmare.

"What?"

Let me be clear. He's. NOT. Azathoth's.

"... What?"

Whatever he was, was asleep. Asleep for who the fuck knows how long. Older than dear old pappy, I'd say! And when that little nightmare came to him and SHOOK the Blind Idiot, THE KING. WOKE. UP.

"Wait, wait... How can that be? You're implying that The King is a separate entity far beyond even your own creator, the one whose dreams are our reality. Are you telling me, The King is older than that? What.. what is he...?"

Oh come on, Artie! I think you have a guess on what he is. I can feel the gears running in that teeny little brain of yours. Keep going though! I know you still have some more questions!

"It- I... How does this all... Keep Azathoth asleep? Does death keep him satiated, or?"

AHH it's more like, he's now aware that there's something outside of his dreams that exists... And it's looking RIGHT AT HIM. And he doesn't want to know what's in store for him when he opens his innumerable amount of eyes and stares back at the abyss.

"Is he- wait- if he's more powerful than Azathoth, how can he even exist on the same plane as us? If he's separate from him how is he here?"

The same way he can walk casually with your little meat suit in the human world, that form is just an avatar. An extension of him. Hell! He doesn't even NEED to have a powerful one! In some realities that avatar is a Great Old One born from... Uhh I don't know one of the many kids Azathoth has? It mixes up. For the one you're seeing in our Dreamlands, he hijacked Azathoth's nightmare, the little dancing jester, and used it to conjure a physical form in this reality. To spread his plague of wither and death. An extension of his mockery towards dear old dad. After all, what could be more humiliating than having your own dreams be used to "birth" your ultimate horror? So POETIC! Gah! This is why I love him!

"I... This is too much..."

Oh, I reckon. Sit down! Sit. Not everyone gets to discover how this little globe twirls around without their brains going KA-PLOOSH!

"If he is... Some sort of bringer of death... Why is he desperately trying to keep his city alive? Why does he collect humans? Why does he... Why does he value life if he mocks it?"

Well... That's the mystery isn't it? And I'm sure your little detective mind can figure it out! Oh and we're out of time anyways. I think your King's about to burst through my front door. WOW! He's really clingy isn't he? Luckyfuckingbastard >:(

"Wait, WAIT! I still need to-"

Sorry Artie! This one's all on you now! Oh and I'm keeping your Addison memory jumbled up. He's still mad at me I'm afraid! Sooo BUH-BYE!

"WAIT! OOF-!"

[Arthur disappears]

Well... Let's see how THIS show goes...

[moopermoment]

damn siffrin, you've been looping for 365 days gay?????

in stars and time is created by @insertdisc5

gray scale version below:

[serpentface]

Do psychotropic drugs and/or ritual play a role in any of the blightseed cultures? A pretty broad question, lol

Yeah that’s a very broad question, the answer is about as much as it tends to play roles in real history. Alcohol is pretty ubiquitous (outside of cultures that abstain from intoxicants) and used for a variety of purposes, opioids are commonly used in some parts for pain relief or recreational purposes, stimulants (usually in mild, natural forms) are used to provide extra energy, and hallucinogens are most commonly used as part of a larger religious framework (rather than for recreational purposes). Any more elaborate answer kinda has to be case by case in a certain culture or part of the setting.

I'll just take this as an opportunity to talk about the one established sect that pretty much REVOLVES around psychoactive use. This is the Scholarly Order of the Root, which is a sort of mystery religion + elite community of scholars who currently occupy the Ur-Tree and its forest in the far southern Lowlands (southeast of Imperial Wardin, on the same land mass).

The Ur-Tree is the obligatory Huge Fucking Fantasy Tree (and its surrounding forest). It’s a mass of vegetation about a mile tall and almost as old as Plant Life Itself, its upper branches are primeval plants, which become more modern the nearer they get to the ground (and each 'level' holds tiny ecosystems, some containing descendants of LONG-extinct arthropods/other small animals). Its lowest branches and the surrounding forest are contemporary plant life, and all is connected and protected by an incomparably MASSIVE fungal mycelium network (which is itself a living god).

A lot of the Scholars' more secretive practices revolve around experimentation with substance use with the goal of expanding the Mind and transcending the body to fully connect to the Dreamlands, and they have a supply chain of traders and mercenaries called Rootrunners who traffic substances into the Lowlands. Most of their psychoactive use is in a very intentional capacity and not just like, for fun, but a LOT of them are just straight up addicted to cocaine (in the form of alchemically refined bruljenum, which is used for practical purposes of its stimulant effect during long hours of work).

All known psychoactives are desirable for experimentation (particularly hallucinogens), with each having properties that either allow expansion of the Mind, transcendence of the body, or outright divine communion. Their effects are logged in great detail and interpreted to form the basis of the Scholars' understanding of the natural world and reality itself.

The most important substance is Ur-Root, which is root matter from subterranean levels of the Ur-Tree that have both their own intrinsic psychoactive substances and a very, very high concentration of living god mycelium. The tree root contains DMT and the mycelium has its own wholly unique effects (being an actual living god). They alchemically refine it into a purer, more potent form, and use it to expand beyond the body and directly commune with the Giants, a group of entities they have identified as the only true gods.

An Ur-Root trip starts off with minor visual distortion, which turns into shifting fractals that slowly obscure the vision. Eventually the senses are entirely taken over by a 'tunnel' of rapidly shifting fractals and geometries. In a complete trip, the experiencer gets a sense that they have been pushed through a membrane and entered another realm, finding themselves in a distinct experiential Space.

At this point they may encounter entities which communicate to them in a language impossible to describe but wholly understood. These beings are understood to be the Giants, or at least aspects of the Giants that mortals are capable of comprehending (they often take familiar tutelary forms of the Mantis or the Snake, or appear resembling the same type of sophont that the experiencer is, all composed of ever-shifting geometries). The experiencer often feels a sense of unconditional and endless love from these beings, though the Giants may be more hostile and may appear in the form of the Trickster (usually a cultural figure regarded as malicious, be it an animal or otherwise) in a bad trip.

(^Up until this point, this has mostly just been a DMT 'breakthrough' experience ft. 'machine elves' and the like).

They are then removed from this space and returned to something that feels like the real world, but is nearly unrecognizable. They have a sense of rapidly moving through time, and will usually see 'the spires' towards the beginning, which just so happen to look like this:

(source + some context via Implication- the spires are exactly what this art is depicting)

The experiencer continues to move across an unfathomable amount of time, occasionally 'seeing' other such flashes of unfamiliar landscapes and creatures, and yet also being devoid of all their senses, the 'seeing' is pure, unfiltered experience. There is a sense of interconnectedness with all life, and that one has become the forest (or even Life) itself. The sense of time is wildly distorted, the trip lasts only about 5 minutes but feels like an eternity and is understood as literal hundreds of millions of years.

The experiencer has usually lost any remaining sense of Self and individual consciousness during this phase (in which case this time distortion is usually a neutral or even peaceful experience), but some retain a fraction of their identity, and find themselves trapped and conscious while experiencing what feels like eternity (which can be LIFE-CHANGINGLY distressing, even after the fact).

(^This latter part of the trip is the effects of the Ur-Tree fungus).

The trip ends with a sense of rushing through the ground and back up into one's body, at which point they will abruptly return to their senses and consciousness. The details are then immediately retrieved via interview and recorded in immense detail. The whole experience is understood as having been full comprehension of the Dreamlands, communion with the Giants, and then a tour through the act of creation.

This is done as part of the initiatory practice into the inner mystery-religion of the scholars, and as needed for study by high scholar-priests. It is not taken lightly, both as it is absolute communion with the gods and reality, and in that it can be a very, very difficult experience. People who have gone through this often walk away with a permanently shifted perspective, often in a positive and/or comforting way- a sense of interconnectedness with all life, a peace with the concept of death, seeing less of a point in individual ego and the concept of Self, and comfort in the sense of divine love they (may have) experienced. This heavily influences the philosophy of the Scholars and has had effects by proxy in the religious worldviews of the region.

Details of this experience are closely guarded, and initiates are given absolutely no prior knowledge and expectations for their trip. This is seen as a necessity- their naivety will allow for a true, unfiltered experience, and can be used to gauge whether they should or should not be accepted. Those that have a distinctly bad trip upon initiation may be assumed to have been 'rejected' by the giants and thus denied full priesthood, though this largely depends on How they interpret their distressing trip- those who identify this as a test and harsh lesson in a journey to enlightenment may be accepted (as this is how fully initiated scholar-priests interpret and handle their bad trips).

This inner priesthood is only a small fraction of the Scholarly Order, and its greater function is as a hub of education and repository of knowledge, and Scholar-trained doctors can provide some of the best medical care available in the setting ('best medical care in this setting' only means so much but it's pretty solid, relatively speaking). Only a chosen few Scholars ever get to commune with the Ur-Root, and most of the divine secrets revealed in the process are kept hidden (though they indirectly influence the politics and worldview of the entire order).

[mysteryampharos]

my friends came over so i made both of them take the pmd personality test

You can find the quizz i used with them here!

[naviculariis]

Where should you be kissed?

Shachi: palm.

you give and give. you are a gentle heart, broken but still standing... always lending a hand for those who need it, expecting nothing in return. you deserve someone taking your hand and kissing your open palm, the hands which have selflessly helped so many others.

Penguin: knuckles

it feels as though you have fought every day of your life. sometimes, you cannot even tell how much of the blood on your hands is your own... and how much comes from those who've tried to hurt those you defend. you deserve the gentleness of a kiss to your bruised knuckles and broken skin, a reminder that you are not only made of violence.

Tagged by: @herztakt

Tagging: anyone who hasn't done this. Ur it. U have seven da-

[wonder-worker]

"In reality Richard III invented a Woodville scare as a screen for his own conspiracy"

— A.J Pollard, Richard III and the Princes in the Tower

[mad-hunts]

what chess piece represents you?

the black knight.

you are a black knight, the black sheep, the underdog. as the only piece that can jump over others, you can easily get yourself in and out of situations - always catching people off guard with your charisma and cunning. you move in the shadows, trading information with shady people, getting the upper hand through not always good methods. how far do you think this road can take you? for all your charisma or cunning, lies can only get you so far. one day, that mask you've put on will slip, and you'll be left defenseless. but until then, oh black knight, live like there's no tomorrow - because there might not be.

tagged by: @divingdownthehole.

tagging: @lvebug, @twcfaces, @talentforlying, @forensisch, and anyone else who might like to do this quiz!

[satanfemme]

Do your ocs know each other and if so how do they feel about that.

they do! my book is gonna be split into two parts, and kurt (the protagonist) will meet billy at the beginning of the second part. at the time, kurt's looking for someone to kill but instead clocks billy as "like him" (this can be interpreted as either "also trans" or "also a serial killer", both are correct).

that said, their relationship is FRAUGHT. it's a friendship/enemy/romance mix, largely due to the fact that neither is very good at being a person. kurt's too isolated from other people to even understand them, and billy's not good enough at reading other people to match their tone. so most of their interactions are like

kurt: please be serious for once in your life. please learn opsec. please do not get us arrested or killed. billy: uhmmm ok but what if I were silly about it tho :3 this is so fun lol kurt: what the fuck are you talking about. this is not fun. I am literally going to kill you if you keep acting this way and I'm not kidding!

+ added is the fact that billy hasn't actually killed anyone before meeting kurt (and may have even lied to kurt about this fact until after their first kill as a couple 🤫) making billy a very stressful amateur student for kurt to mentor.

which might make u ask why kurt's even mentoring billy in the first place instead of kicking it out/killing it, but (besides the romantic/platonic feelings he feels for it despite everything) that's because like... how often do you meet another trans serial killer? also kurt's a very lonely person anyway. tldr: kurt doesn't feel like he has a lot of options here when it comes to making friends.

that's all^ focusing mostly on kurt's emotions tho. billy mostly just loves kurt! there's some conflicting opinions there too, especially when kurt's an asshole to it. but because billy's just a bit too oblivious to pick up on the serious nature of a lot of this, it struggles to take even the personal drama as seriously as it should. instead, it'll mostly just get very frustrated over kurt being an asshole/distant/angry all the time ""for no reason"".

in short, to billy murder is a game, to kurt murder is a necessary and dangerous lifestyle, and they both love/hate each other over this difference.

[rhys-ravenfeather]

Me, who has never watched Hazbin Hotel, just doing my own thing as people argue back and forth against or in defense of the show:

[marrow-bone]

Except now we also have to contend with 'AI' (Machine learning) aggregates that make it even harder to find the Thing you need, because most the search results now are cloaked info-barfers that are just ouroboros-ing information tidbits that have a 50/50 or so chance of being even kinda right, so who knows if the Thing that you've been presented with even is the Thing.

This is especially frustrating when dealing with incredibly niche medical/surgical/biological information for what should be obvious reasons. You'll get a result, sure, but you'll need to spend an extra hour or so to make sure you don't end up in the hospital just because a formerly useful resource is now run by bots.

People are definitely going to die because of this.

"every possible kind of content can be found on the internet" yeah sure except for the One fucking thing I'm looking for. why does no one want to talk about the One Singular thing I'm looking for. but yeah other than that everything is on here.

[elibeeline]

so the guys who plays lindsey rlly does have a character type of bisexual buff guy who doesn't admit it

[sunny-unclear]

i’m slowly building a few marie cosplay outfits and i’m so excited abt them =]

[lxnarphase]

━ ❝ OH, IT'S MINIKUNA ! ❞

✮₊‧⁺...content: heian era!sukuna x wife!reader, fluff, mentions of childbirth, sukuna is an overly proud father, sukuna is whipped for his wife

✮₊‧⁺...lunar's note: based of this little blurbie and this one too !! needed some fluff with kuna bc he would love having a baby girl idc what anyone says !!! also i did my best describing the birthing process in a time accurate period but it's definitely a bit inaccurate because...i have never had a baby LOL

no one has ever seen sukuna ryomen, king of curses, wince before.

not until today, at the wrath of his pregnant wife who somehow got a hold of his fingers instead of his hand.

one of the nurses did warn him to not give you his finger and to ensure you always hold his hand. but by the gods, he swears you almost ripped his finger off.

it's cute to him, however, when you attempt to curse him out.

'gods, sukuna, i despise your entire being!'

'i know, my wife.'

'i should've never let you get me pregnant, you animal!'

'you begged for it, my wife.'

'i am never letting you bed me again, use your hand for the rest of your existence!'

'you can't keep your hands off me, my wife, no need to lie.'

but the sigh of relief, the way you instantly look down and coo once the sound of wailing filled the air...it makes him melt just a little bit.

he can't deny, seeing you in pain made him heated. it took everything in him not to kill every midwife, nurse, and lady-in-waiting in your birth room for not being able to make this process completely painless.

except chiyo. he would have to reward your personal physician for preparing you so well for this...

what did the old hag like again? wines, meats, gifts for her grandchildren back at home?

hm, yes, that would be great for her. of course, he'll say it was from you. the king of curses shows gratitude for no one.

he's pulled out of his thoughts at the hushed whispers once the other women exam the baby before following your unspoken request to hold your child.

"d-do you think lord sukuna will harm our lady for this...?"

"i hope not, surely he can make an exception, t-they both are still young and can always try for more!"

"but he's the king of curses, t-there no way he won't have a reaction!"

before he can demand what they find so important to discuss in front of you, chiyo hushes the girls with a wave of her hand, ushering the girls to help wipe off your sweat, tears, and clean off the baby—gentle like it's the finest glass, she instructs—before turning to sukuna with a knowing smile.

"well, your greatness...congratulations on having a healthy and gorgeous little girl," she hums, wiping her hands with a clean cloth before going to rinse her hands to help stitch any rips and clean you up.

the room falls silent aside from your soft little coos and the wails of your daughter as you brush the wet, fluffy hair on her little head.

all the women in the room continue to work, but it's clear they are silently waiting for his outburst.

everyone knows that a proper heir to any throne is a boy...but now, sukuna's first born child is a girl.

but rather angry, yelling, and threats to your and your child's life, the room is filled with Suku's booming laughter, which practically shakes the entire room.

instead of an enraged expression, pure delight, and excitement are painted on his face as he sits next to you on the soft cushiony bedding on the floor, his hand caressing the rounded cheek of your newborn.

"so, you've given me a girl," he hums in delight, all four of his eyes narrowing. "this will be the one who takes over my throne once i decide to step down?"

this thing, this tiny, itty bitty baby...came from you both? it's almost laughable how small this baby is compared to his hand, that something so little could be related to him.

she's...nothing short of perfect. "absolutely divine...she will not just be beautiful like her mother, but as powerful as both of us."

he's so proud of you and your child. he would shower your daughter with riches, love, and anything she could ever want and ask for.

but, he couldn't lie.

she's a damned fat baby, big head and all.

"sukuna, watch your mouth!"

he can't help but laugh, not realizing his thoughts came out of his mouth. "what, it's a good thing! means she's healthy," he boasts with a grin, leaning down closer to see her better.

"she looks strong already. as soon as she is able, i will personally teach her how to be a truly malevolent little princess, how to properly slit the necks of her enemies, how to—!”

oh, he is so excited, it's adorable.

“sukuna, shush, i just gave birth to a child with a massive head like yours, give me a moment," you say with a light laugh, your smile still reaching your clearly tired eyes.

“…apologies, my wife.”

chiyo can't help but laugh with you she finishes applying the healing ointment on your lower body, using a bit of her cursed energy to speed up the healing process to help you skip any serious pain.

after all, nothing but the best physician for you in sukuna's palace.

"always such an excitable boy, my lord, ever since you were a young man," she hums, helping one of the midwives properly wrap your baby in the soft, clean cloth.

"be gentle with her," you instruct him, gently moving your arms toward him so he could take the little bundle. he's...nervous, but he hides it well.

you place your daughter in his arms and he looks down at her, suddenly conscious of how loud he's breathing. she's got his hair, still a bit wet but soft and fluffy. it's pink, just like his.

a pleased rumble vibrates his chest, and he doesn't even realize he's doing it.

but then...her eyes open.

both sets.

he almost didn't notice it at first, they're just so small, but they're there. the same color as yours, pretty and big, filled with so much life.

his eyes burn, vision getting blurry. no words come to his head, he can't think of anything to say. he's so caught up in his thought he doesn't even notice chiyo ushering the other girls in the room out and shutting the door before quietly tending to you with water or food.

she knows that look, you do as well. she's been around longer than uraume to know her master, knowing the king of curses since his young years as the unwanted child of the village, abandoned by his mother for his 'horrid' appearance.

she was lucky to have found him before the villagers got to him, torches, axes, pitchforks and daggers in hand to take care of the child who they believed to have brought misfortune to their home.

getting him to safety was one of the best decisions she'd ever made, king of curses or not. no child deserved to be abandoned like that. and now, he's seeing himself in that tiny little being in his arms right now...chiyo can only imagine what he's feeling.

so, out of respect, she keeps her gaze averted, pretending she does not see the misty gaze he gives your daughter. this is a moment for you and him, and she does her best to make all her movements as quiet as possible.

all sukuna can think about in this moment is how he used to be just as tiny as this. he was just as vulnerable in his mothers arms. he couldn't talk, couldn't speak, couldn't fend for himself.

yet, his parents looked down at him just like this and decided he was an abomination and didn't give him a chance.

but now?

sukuna knows he would never, ever let anything happen to this little bundle in his arms. he would rather destroy the entire planet before letting anything happen to his baby girl. no one would make his little one suffer and live to see another day.

he flinches just a little, feeling your soft hand rubbing his bicep. "it's okay, my love," you softly coo at him, reaching up to wipe a tear from his eye before it had a chance to drip down his cheek. "she's going to grow up feeling loved and cherished because she's got a great father."

"hmm..."

a smile crosses his features as he looks back down, looking at the squirming baby so makes a little noise before calming down when he strokes her little, chubby cheek again to keep her from crying again.

"and she's got a great mother. she'll be the most wonderful princess in all of history," he says with a toothy grin, chest rumbling with a laugh.

"aww, my love, that's so sweet..."

"seriously, though, how in hells did you squeeze this thing out of ya? thing's got the head of a watermelon."

"sukuna, give me back my baby, and chiyo? get this man some food to stuff in his mouth before he says something to warrent the rage of a new mother."

all rights reserved © lxnarphase | do not repost, copy, translate, or alter my work

[summersfirstsnow]

Quick accuracy check for the tweet!

As far as I've been able to find out, the tragic collision in DC, assuming that's the crash that they're referencing in the tweet (the only collision between two aircraft in the US in recent weeks), has not been attributed by investigators to the recent firings. It sounds like air traffic control at the airport was understaffed, but this has so far been attributed to a per-existing, long-term problem (x) (x).

Trump was definitely the reason that the US didn't have an FAA administrator to address the press & public, though, and hasn't done anything to fix the under-staffing in air traffic control rooms since, despite pressure and several other fatal plane accidents.

Possibly a short but also more accurate (if less punchy) way to make this connection:

"That plane crash happened when the ATC was understaffed, and Trump firing what most of the staff there are will make that way worse."?

or maybe ''Trump's unfounded accusations distract us from the fact that an even more understaffed ATC is going to make more and worse mistakes''?

Keep your messaging simple:

“Trump fired everyone in charge of airplane safety, and a week later planes started crashing into each other.”

That’s it. That’s the messaging. Don’t get bogged down disputing Trump’s false claims. Just blame him, in short and repeatable sentences.

[k423s]

at some point i have to be like do i find hi3 writing really that much better* than genshin’s writing or am i just judging without all the context necessary..

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC My Brother in the Mirror

Damian doesn't like mirrors.

He never mentioned the fact to other members of the family, but they are detectives and vigilantes, it's their job to be observant. Which, after so many years, becomes a habit.

Damian doesn't actively avoid the mirrors - he has a mirror in his bathroom, he didn't express any discomfort over going into a mirror labyrinth at some carnival they've attended (he expressed disgust over taking part in something so stupid, in his words, but that's a whole another story), and he actually spent a few minutes in front of the funhouse mirrors when no one was looking, watching his own reflection distort in various ways. He also has no problems with his self-image - he doesn't mind pictures of him taken at any time (unless it's Tim, but that's, again, a whole another story), he's drawn a few self-portraits that were rather accurate and he liked them.

He just doesn't like mirrors. For some reason.

His family, both close and extended, never questioned it. They did some gentle research to see if the dislike was caused by some kind of problem Damian was experiencing without telling anyone, but when they found no proof of that, they've just decided it was some quirk of his. Everyone has quirks. Dick doesn't like eating cereal like a normal person, Tim despises sleep, Steph is at war with any color other than purple.

That is, until one day, Tim witnesses Damian sitting in front of a mirror.

He is not even aware of it - the whole family is having a game night, and through some arguments and rearrangements on the couch, Damian ends up sitting on the left side of it, where his back is turned to one of the three mirrors in the room. Tim, who's lost the last round, is slumping in an armchair nearby, pointedly looking away from the screen where Damian and Jason are enthusiastically competing over the first place in Mario Cart. Of course, Tim can't just not watch it since he needs to know their strategies. But turning back around would also be admitting defeat.

The solution? Easy, watch the screen through the mirror.

Which is when he notices it.

Damian in the mirror doesn't act the same as Damian in the room. Out of the corner of his eye, Tim can see the real Damian moving around, shoving Jason with his elbow, fully concentrated on the game, and yelling something. Damian-in-the-mirror is sitting unnaturally still, the back of his head over the couch unmoving.

Tim forgets all about the game when Damian's reflection starts to turn around. Slowly and carefully, eerie in the way the horror movies are, the boy in the mirror turns his head around like an owl, his neck twisting inhumanely.

His eyes are green. Green like the toxic waste, like Jason's madness, like acid in cartoons, like the Waters of Lazarus.

Damian in the mirror smiles, his unblinking, gliwing eyes fixed on Tim, and his teeth are sharp and pointy, and there are too many of them, humans can't smile this wide.

"-im? Tim!" A hand nudges him in the shoulder, and Tim looks away from the mirror, finding Dick standing over him. The noise of the game room returns all at once, and, wait, when did it become quiet for Tim?.. He must have a strange expression on his face because Dick's easy smile falls slightly, and he frowns, "Is everything okay?"

Tim looks back to the mirror, but the green-eyed boy in the mirror is gone, and the mirror only reflects Damian as he is: sitting on the couch.

"Yeah," Tim shakes his head and forces a smile on his lips, "I just zoned out."

"Okay," Dick pats him on the shoulder and gives him the controller, "It's your turn now."

Tim takes the controller and turns around, facing the screen. Tim throws a quick glance at Damian, who had slid down on the couch so his head would not be in the reflection anymore. Tim sees the cold, warning hint to his eye, a clear do not speak of it message.

Tim doesn't like that the mirror is now behind him.