#(he scares little kids)

[hinamie]

I'll give them shelter like you've done for me

[lilybug-02]

Final Bug Fact:

The world NEEDS bugs. They keep the soil healthy, pollinate, control pests, and contribute to the worlds' ecosystem. By the end of the century, it is estimated 40% of insect species may go extinct due to habitat loss. Yes, that is very scary. But with even one beetle spared, one caterpillar rescued, and one Hollow Knight comic of all things, things will change. Because I know there's a lot more Dewi's out there than most people realize. Stay curious.

Thanks for going on this adventure with me. ♥︎

First || Prev // END

Masterpost

Comic Thoughts and Pictures Below!

I wanted to put here how amazing and sweet everyone has been with this comic. I finished a 75 page comic in 3 MONTHS. I am at a loss for words. That sounds crazy and it IS crazy. But man was it fun. Even on days were I wasn't able to draw due to fatigue or business, I loved working on it from start to finish. And guess what!? This is my first ever FINISHED comic :D I'm so proud of myself. I know there's some things I want to change and the art is wonky in most places...... but I'm content to let it be. What an amazing summer adventure!

I'm hoping to post the full comic on another Comic website. I may or may not edit some of the art ^w^ So I'll let y'all know when I release it.

Interested in learning what you could do to help your local insects? This is the basic stuff. Maybe make some Insect Hotels if you have the time!!! And never forget to spread the word about bugs. They need our help just as any animal on earth.

Still Here? Well you can look in the tags for little lore dumps if ur looking for stuff like that ;)

[spielzeugkaiser]

[MASTERPOST] - [prev] I just want you to imagine Jaskier, very early post trial, mostly nonverbal, not in control of his strength yet being just such a creepy kid sometimes. (His parents still love him obviously.) I also have a feeling that Jaskier is subconsciously 100% stressed at all times and wants to do his absolute best to please his parents and make zero mistakes so that they won't send him away again. (They didn't and he knows that, but he is just a traumatized child.)

[turtleblogatlast]

[ cw: trauma / ptsd / violence / brainwashing / ]

I’m not done talking about Raph and Leo yet because you know what kills me? How the beginning of the movie with Raph very angry at Leo to the point of lashing out at him is paralleled with how the end of the movie has the Krang very, very angry at Leo and beating him horrifically.

Both Raph and the Krang are so much bigger than Leo, both have been very angry with him, and both deem him responsible for ruining their respective missions.

To make matters worse, Raph’s body was used to hurt Leo. So it’d make sense for Leo to just…flinch, sometimes. To have his body reflectively brace for a blow that will not come because Raph would see this and just be horrified. Their fights, their roughhousing, their existing together all have a newfound and unwanted extra layer to them.

And Raph? Raph is traumatized enough having been brainwashed the way he was, turned into a monster in a way he always dreads in general. To be made into the antithesis of a hero and instead be a villain’s pawn, made to hurt his own family…poor kid, to say the least.

Can’t imagine what it must feel like, the first time post invasion that Raph gets mad at Leo and they fall into their old dynamic only for Leo to see the Krang and for Raph to feel like he is the Krang.

[luxaofhesperides]

For the ghostlights drabbles: “Say my name” with a favor being called in?

Duke had saved Phantom years ago, back when he was just out of high school and working to take down a branch of the government that was kidnapping and experimenting on people, targeting magic users and metas. Phantom had been working on his own to take them down, and they met in the middle, trashing a lab and freeing as many people as they could.

They had managed to shoot his back, knocking him down and making him bleed a glowing green. Phantom couldn’t move, protecting two kids with his body, and Duke couldn’t reach them in time before they were taken away by another swarm of agents. 

He was able to go after them in time, free Phantom and the kids, and evacuated the victims before Phantom rained hell down on the facility.

At the end, standing in the background as they watched paramedics treat the victims and take them towards the nearest hospitals, Phantom had turned towards him and thanked him.

Or rather, he thanked the Signal and offered him a bracelet with a rounded orb of ice, glowing faintly in the dark. If you ever need me, he had said, Hold this, and call me name.

Phantom vanished once the last of the victims were transported to a safer location, and Duke hadn’t seen him since.

He’s kept up with news about Phantom as best he can, but from what he could tell, Phantom is based primarily in Amity Park, Illinois, and the town is fiercely protective of their hero. News rarely leaks out of there, and with them running on their own servers and independent internet, it was nearly impossible to get in from the outside. 

Phantom remained a curious and distant figure in Duke’s life. He holds onto the bracelet still, guarding it carefully and sometimes running his fingers over the ice that never melts.

But he doesn’t call in that favor. He’s never to.

At least, not until now.

Sucking in a breath, Duke prepares himself and holds the orb of ice in the palm of his hand. He’s in civies, unable to hide his identity for this, and closes his eyes. “Phantom,” he says.

For a moment, nothing happens. Duke blinks his eyes open and frowns, mind already forming new plans to contact Phantom. Then the ice goes bitingly cold, almost painful, and the temperature in the room drops dramatically. The ice lifts up from his hand, floating in the air, then cracks open.

White-blue light spills out of it, growing brighter as it seems to swallow up the room entirely. Duke hurries to back up, an arm thrown up to protect his eyes. His breath mists out before him and he shivers as the sound of ice cracking fills the room.

And then, just as suddenly as it started, the light disappears and the cold fades away like a bad dream. 

Slowly, Duke lowers his arm and looks up at Phantom, floating in the middle of his living room with a crown made of ice, engulfed in blue fire, hovers above his head. He looks older, more regal, holding his head high. 

He regards Duke carefully for a minute, then tilts his head and says, “Signal?”

“Yeah, it’s me. Man, I’m so glad you came.”

“You… need help with something? You’re calling in your favor now, right?”

Duke nods. He understands Phantom’s confusion; being in the hero business means that favors like these tend to be used only during the most hopeless of times, when the world is close to ending, when the chances of getting out of a situation alive is close to impossible. It’s exactly the kind of thing Duke was expecting to call Phantom in for.

Not the kid sleeping on his couch.

“You’re a ghost, yeah?”

Phantom blinks at him. “Ghost king, now. Why?”

“Well…” Duke rubs the back of his neck, nervously. “I didn’t really know who else to call, and I can’t do this on my own since I’m not a ghost. But this kid got attached to me and won’t leave, so now I’m taking care of her and I have no idea what I’m doing.”

“I don’t know why you think I have any experience with kids but—”

“She’s a ghost.”

Phantom stops short. “Ah. I see.” He floats down until his feet touch the floor, and then he’s standing like any other person. “Where…?”

Duke looks past Phantom’s shoulder, and Phantom turns to follow his gaze. Chelsea, the ghost girl, looks to be around nine years old and is fast asleep on the couch, curled up under Duke’s softest blanket.

“Signal,” Phantom says quietly, “What, exactly, is the favor you need from me?”

“You can say no,” Duke starts. “I get that this is a lot. But I need help raising her. And since you’re a ghost, I figured you could help me learn about the ghostly side of things. You don’t have to raise her with me or anything! Just… I would appreciate any help you’re willing to give me.”

Phantom doesn’t say no. He doesn’t say anything. He just stares down at Chelsea, an unreadable expression on his face. 

On the couch. Chelsea shifts in her sleep, brows furrowing as she makes a choked noise in the back of her throat.

Moving on autopilot after so many nights of this routine, Duke kneels next to the couch, fishing one of her hands from beneath the blanket. He gives it a few reassuring squeezes, keeping it a slow rhythm to pull her gently from her nightmare. She settles down in just a minute, brow smoothing out as she continues to sleep. 

The silence grows and Duke is all too aware that his heart is the only one beating. 

He doesn’t hear Phantom move. Doesn’t realize he’s right next to him until he sees Phantom’s hand reach out towards Chelsea. When Duke looks, Phantom is sitting on the floor next to Duke, looking at Chelsea with something soft and devastated in his eyes. His hand hovers about her head for a long moment, then slowly lowers to rest on her head. 

The touch looks gently, barely putting any pressure on her head, but it’s enough to make Chelsea’s eyes snap open, suddenly wide awake. She stares at Phantom with wide eyes, then sits up and looks between him and Duke.

“Who are you?” she asks in a small voice that makes Duke want to stand against the world to keep her safe. 

Phantom smiles. It’s casual and charming and makes him look like anyone else, as if he’s not a powerful king from a realm unreachable to humans. “Hi there,” he says, “I’m Danny. I’m a ghost like you. Signal called me and asked me to meet you.”

The Ghost King is good with kids. Who would have thought?

Chelsea looks at him for confirmation and only relaxes when he nods. “I’m Chelsea. What do you mean ghost? I’m not dead.”

Both he and Phantom tense, carefully keeping their expressions neutral. She hasn’t told him much at all, just that her parents were gone and forgot her and she got hurt, so she wanted to stay with ‘Mr. Signal’ because he’s a hero and heroes keep people safe and he was the only one who was Black like her. Duke hadn’t had the heart to say no, and began searching for her family, only to find that her parents had fled the state, and likely the country, after killing their only child through neglect and a dangerous environment. 

It was then that he realized that her powers were not because she was a meta, but because she was ghost.

It still hurts to realize how young she is, how much of her life had been stolen from her in an instant. Duke hadn’t been brave enough to broach the topic with her, instead choosing to let her grow comfortable in his presence, get them both settled into a routine now that he was her primary guardian. 

“I know it sounds scary,” Phantom says, “And you may not want to believe me, but it’s true. I’m sorry that you died so young, but that just means you get to hang out with me and other ghosts from now on!”

Chelsea crosses her arms over her chest and glares at him. “I am not dead,” she says.

“Cici, I’m sorry to say this, but you are,” Duke cuts in. “That’s why I called… Danny. You have new powers as a ghost, and he can help you get used to them.”

“I’m not dead!” she says again.

“Kid,” Phantom begins, but Chelsea shakes her head hard and hops off the couch.

“I’m not lying! Watch, I’ll prove it to you!” She closes her eyes and scrunches up her nose, concentrating. Her hands curl into tight fists by her sides, and the glow around her grows dim. Two faint, stuttering rings of light appear around her waist. They flicker and wobble in the air, as if weak and uncertain of their own existence, then split apart, one moving up towards her head while the other falls to her feet.

Beside him, Phantom sucks in a sharp breath, but Duke can’t turn to see what’s wrong when he’s trying to take in the sight of Chelsea suddenly full of vibrant color, looking more solid that he’s ever seen her, very much alive.

“See?” she says proudly, lifting her arms and doing a spin to show off her right she was. “I told you I’m not dead!”

“No, you’re not,” Phantom agrees, sounding shell-shocked. When Duke is finally able to look away from Chelsea to check on him, he looks awed. There’s the smallest smile on his face, just the slightest upturn of his lips, but it makes him look softer.

Duke turns his attention back to Chelsea before he can be caught staring. “Cici, can you come here for a second?”

She goes before he’s finished speaking, crossing the space between them in a single jump, then grins up at him. Her hair is a bit of a mess, the two buns he managed to get her hair into falling askew. He makes a note to visit the old aunties in the Narrows later to ask them to teach him how to do hair. For now, he holds out a hand and Chelsea drops an arm into it.

It seems to good to be true, having her be alive, but her pulse is steady and strong when he presses his thumb against the inside of her wrist. 

“Well,” he says, leaning back and letting go of her arm. “You certainly proved us wrong.”

Chelsea doesn’t have much time to look smug before PHantom quietly says, “You’re like me.”

“What?”

“You’re like me,” he tells Chelsea. “A halfa.”

She tilts her head to one side. “What’s that?”

“Someone who is half human and half ghost. Both dead and alive.”

Duke blinks, taking in the words, then turns to face Phantom so quickly he’s worried he might give himself whiplash. Halfa, he said. Like me, he said. 

And sure enough, two rings of light, bright and strong, appear around Phantom’s waist before splitting in half, moving over his entire body. 

Gone is the Ghost King, all powerful and adorned in dark clothing with a crown of ice above his head. In his place is a guy who looks to be Duke’s age, eyes a deep blue and his black hair messy, feet set solidly on the floor. He looks completely normal, completely human, and no longer an impossibility.

“You still up for learning how to use all your new powers?” Phantom asks.

Chelsea grins. “Yeah!” And then, with a quick flick of her eyes going from Phantom to Duke that he almost misses, very innocently asks, “Are you going to stay with us then?”

“I… don’t know?” Phantom looks to Duke for an answer.

Already, Duke can see this going two ways. The correct way forward, the normal one, has Phantom popping in every so often, taking Chelsea out for a few hours to work on training her and her powers. It’s easy and routine and they can keep their boundaries uncrossed and be professional. 

The other path is what Duke wants most that he shouldn’t impose onto the literal Ghost King. He could have Phantom living with them while he’s on Earth and out of Amity Park, having a place at the table, a section in the closet for his own clothes, a quietly domestic night together while Chelsea sleeps where they can get to know each other more, get to know each other outside of news reports and texts on a screen.

“You can stay with us if you want,” Duke offers, casually, “It might keep my apartment safe from her powers acting up on their own again.”

“Are you sure? I could always just fly in on the weekends or something.”

“I’d appreciate having you around. So you can help Cici.”

“If you don’t mind,” Phantom says, looking away. Like this, fully alive with a beating heart, it’s easy to see the blush steal away across his cheeks. 

“I don’t.”

“I don’t either!” Chelsea pops in, looking far too gleeful by their awkward conversation.

Duke can’t help but laugh, feeling lighter than he had in ages. The relief of knowing that Chelsea is alive, for the most part at least, eases the guilt of thinking he had been too late to save her, that there was no chance she could have made it out and had a future, makes him feel weak. All the exhaustion of the past few weeks hits him all at once and he wants nothing more than to collapse in bed and sleep for twelve hours.

“Alright, squirt,” he says, reaching out to pat her head. “It’s late. We can talk more in the morning, so go to bed. In your actual bed this time, not on the couch.”

Chelsea stands up taller, ready to argue, but Duke gives her a Look™ and she quickly shuts her mouth, nods, and drags her feet back to her room (the former guestroom he can never give any of the other Waynes ever again, once they find out about her). 

Sighing, Duke collapses onto the couch once he hears the door shut behind her. Phantom joins him after a few seconds, sitting tentatively on the edge of the couch. The cushion moves beneath his weight, another reminder of how solid and alive he is right not.

Duke wants to touch him, to reach out and feel for himself his pulse, the warmth of his body, his chest lifting with each breath. 

He doesn’t move. He stays where he is, hands carefully still, and tries to think past the dizzying thoughts of she’s still alive, I’m not too late, he’s still here, he’s alive.

“Rough week?” Phantom asks, voice purposefully light.

“Something like that.”

“You should get some sleep too.”

“I don’t think I can. Not after everything. My mind’s too loud right now.”

Phantom shifts closer to him, hesitant in a way that Duke has never seen before in him, and asks, “Want me to stay with you until you mind quiets down some?”

“Yeah. I’d like that. Thanks, Phantom.”

“You know, if I’m going to be around so often as Chelsea’s halfa mentor, then you might as well call me Danny.”

Truth be told, Duke didn’t think that was his real name. He’s glad to know it’s not. 

“Then call me Duke.”

“...Are you sure? You could still hide your identity from me.”

“Nah, I trust you. A name for a name, yeah?”

Danny smiles. “Duke,” he says, testing out the name, and it’s never sounded better than when it falls from Danny’s mouth.

“Danny,” Duke returns. He belatedly realizes that they’ve leaned towards each other, drawn together like gravity, stuck in each other’s orbit. It feels natural. It feels like this is where they’re meant to be.

Maybe he should be more cautious. They’ve only meant once before, after all. But he’s read all he could on Phantom and has seen how Amity Park loves him. He’s stressed and exhausted and trying to figure out how to look after a half-ghost child that’s already been dealt a bad hand in life. He should be keeping Phantom at a distance, watching over him carefully to ensure he isn’t a threat to Chelsea.

But Duke saw how he acted with Chelsea, so gentle and understanding and kind. That’s all he needed to see.

He may not know much about Danny, but he knows this: he is trustworthy.

Enough to entrust his identity to him.

Enough to entrust Chelsea to him.

It’s more than a favor; it’s a promise to walk this road together. 

There’s no one he’d rather do this with. 

“Thanks,” he says again, “For all of this. I know it’s a lot.”

Danny shrugs. “I don’t mind. Really. It’s nice to know there’s another halfa out there, no matter how she came to be one. Makes things feel less lonely.”

“Will you tell me more about halfas?”

“Later. Once you get some proper rest. We’ve got time, haven’t we?”

“We do,” Duke agrees, affection settling warm in his chest. “We’ve got plenty of time.”

Learning how to control her new powers won’t be easy for Chelsea. Learning how to take care of her won’t be easy. Learning how to do things together, as Duke and Danny rather than the Signal and Phantom, won’t be easy. But Duke knows with a certainty he feels in his bones that they’re going to be fine.

So long as they’ve got each other, they’ll be fine.

[deimosatellite]

stavrovensky childhood meeting

[solargeist]

Can we pretty please get a Grian and Xelqua meet-up?? I love how you draw Xelqua and Grian and I just need to see what they would do if they meet......for science of course

wait hold on.. goes crazy .. I don’t have a design for Xelqua, that was just Grian earlier, but…. I think it’d go well

I think Xelqua is his patron, so he’d be excited to meet him !

but I was also playing with the idea that Little Grian here is a reincarnated version of Xelqua, but still looks up to him, prays to him, would want to be picked up and hugged by him, the safety of it. (How can he be reincarnated and still have a form here ? Well the divine can be a bit finicky)

[starry-bi-sky]

Clone^2 Damian

If you really think about, Damian's situation in the clone^2 au is... kinda tragic? Especially in the early months of his arrival. Like,,, think about it. Damian has always known he was a clone of Damian Wayne, that he was a copy of the blood son. There was nothing 'original' about him, not even his name (of which at least Danny has that). He was just... a replacement. A disposable one, to boot.

And he knew that, to an extent, by the time he was six years old. he might not have been actively acknowledging it -- he's six years old -- but deep down he knew. And like, he's six years old. Every small child craves the love and affection of an adult, especially their parents, and even though he knew he was clone, I imagine he still considered - and still does consider, somewhat - Talia and Bruce as his mother and father. And I really doubt he was... getting it?

Now, I know Talia loves Damian, her son. At least in some interpretations she does, and in this au she does. But... a clone of her son? I'm not so certain if she would have the same affection for baby Dames as she would for Damian. I don't think she would treat him badly, but I don't think Talia would treat him warmly either. Kinda just, distant. Colder than she would have been with OG Damian.

And, I know I've mentioned Damian's arrival from Danny's point of view, and its kind of comical kind of insane from his perspective -- a little boy clone of Damian Wayne falls through a portal and immediately attacks him. That sounds like a bad joke.

But, if you think of this from Damian's point of view? It's like he just got dropped into a scary movie. Like, think about it. You're six years old, and suddenly a portal, as green and as swirling as your grandfather's pools, opens up beneath your feet and sucks you through.

After an intense bout of vertigo, you end up in a massive, urban city -- completely different from the rural mountain palace that you lived in for the last six years of your life, and in this city, you don't know any of the language. You don't know what anyone is saying, you can't read any of the signs - you are completely stranded, away from home.

And then, to make things worse, you're facing a figure with a terrifying mask and eyes as burning green as the portal you fell through. Of course Damian's first instinct, six years old, is to attack. He's terrified.

And this figure, he's not a good fighter, but he's fast, and he dodges you quickly. He grabs your sword with his hands, and tries to restrain you, saying something in a language you don't know. Naturally, Damian is just scared. He's six! He'd just be learning how to read if he was normal child going to school.

This figure halfway through the fight yanks off his mask -- he realizes you're scared -- and looking at you now, is a youthful version of your father. This is a clone of your dad, someone you have never met but, six years old, still wants to. Damian gets defensive. This is an imposter.

But this imposter eventually gets you home with him - and he's using his little box, his phone, to communicate with you through a mechanical voice speaking in arabic. and it's frustrating. The boy, the imposter, can say whatever to you just fine, but trying to talk back is a hassle and a half. He's six, he doesn't have that much patience.

He wants to go home.

And so he keeps trying to run away. He keeps trying to find out of this hellish concrete jungle, and he keeps getting lost. It's loud, and busy, and there are people talking to you and you don't understand them, and there are rules and signs you don't understand - Damian tries to cross the street and nearly gets hit by a car. He doesn't know how the road signs work, he was never taught. They didn't get to that.

And he gets lost. And it gets dark, and Damian is brave, but he is six, and this is the worst stress he's been under in all his six years of life. He wants, desperately more than anything, to go home. Why wouldn't he? The only stable... semi-stable environment he was in just got ripped out from under his feet, literally! He wants his mother.

And it's not happening.

But there's something good to be said, at least. The imposter that looks like his father always comes and finds him, no matter what. He could have left that morning, and he will find Damian at midnight, frazzled and worried, and carrying an extra jacket with him because it is cold in Amity Park and Damian is six years old.

And sometimes Damian attacks him - he's scared and stressed and he doesn't want to be here. And every time he catches the sword. Even though Damian can see it cut into his hand and pearls of blood well up and stains his fingers. Even though Damian can see him wince in pain and bite his lip, he still catches it.

But with that little box, he coaxes Damian to come back with him. It's cold, it's dark, Amity Park is unsafe at night. They can figure something out tomorrow, please. And every time, he agrees, reluctantly. And the imposter takes the extra jacket he brought with -- a flannel, a hoodie, a jacket -- and he wraps it around him. It's warm, Damian's clothes are not that thick, and even though he thinks he might hate this imposter, he still sticks close to his legs as he leads him down the street.

And sometimes the imposter carries him, because Damian's shoes are not that thick, and he cuts his foot on broken glass while they're walking home. The imposter sits in the bathroom with him and carefully cleans the cut out, and makes sure it doesn't get infected.

There's hope you know, he still has it. His mother will be looking for him. She'll be worried. He's important to them. Damian may not be the original, but he is still a blood son. He is still her son. She will come find him. This nightmare will end soon. He can go home.

And then weeks pass, and nothing. Then months, and nothing. His family is not coming for him, and it hurts. Hurts more than anything. And yet while that happens, the boy he's attacked, and hurt, teaches himself arabic in order to speak to him. He takes Damian out of the house one afternoon and buys him new clothes, or tries to. And then he keeps buying him new clothes. He gives him blankets and gives up his bed to him until they can get him one himself, and steadily he teaches Damian english.

This boy is kind. Kinder than Damian's ever experienced, and he doesn't know what to do with it. He's devastated by the fact that he is not as important to his family as his family is to him. What do you do when you're six years old and you learn something like that? When a random stranger who looks like your father is kinder to you, and cares more about you than your family did?

And then Damian tells him he's a clone. He's Damian Wayne's clone, and he tells him his purpose - that their grandfather made him to kill him. And the boy, the imposter, Damian thinks he probably already knows that he's a clone. But he doesn't say that. He just nods, and asks him if he wants to tell his original about him.

Damian says no. He doesn't want to. He's tired of living in the shadow of his original. He wants to keep this to himself. This is his. For once, all of this is his.

And to his surprise, the imposter doesn't try and convince him otherwise. He just nods, and says okay. And when Damian asks why, the imposter - his brother - looks at him and says.

"I don't care about Damian Wayne. I care about you." And in Damian's gobsmacked silence, his brother continues. He tells him that if Damian doesn't want to tell his original that he exists, then they don't need to. They don't need to worry about the LoA going after him, because clearly if his 'grandfather' needs to make a clone of Damian in order to take him out, then whatever it was that Damian Wayne was doing to keep himself safe, was working.

"Wayne already has people in his corner, he's got Gotham's army of vigilantes to keep himself safe." his brother says with his eyes as blue as moonlight. "You, however. Do not." And he continues, and says that if Damian Wayne has the same training as Damian does, then he will be fine. He doesn't need to be aware of his clone. Because if DW doesn't know about Damian, then the LoA doesn't either.

And here's the thing. Damian would not have survived in the LoA for long. Not as a clone. No matter what, he was going to die no matter what he did, and sooner rather than later. The sword of Damocles was always hanging above his head in the League of Assassins.

That portal, and meeting Danny, saved his life. There's no way around it. And to an extent Damian knows this even at six years old. He may not be aware that he would've died, but he knows that meeting Danny was the best thing to happen to him.

It's no wonder after that, that Damian is as clingy to Danny as he is. Danny is the first person he's met to offer him unconditional love, with no strings attached, only pure affection.

[dirtytransmasc]

the Sully kids' reaction to Jake saying Spider "knew everything" breaks my heart.

they knew him better than anyone else, better than their parents. they knew his love for Eywa, for Pandora, for The People, for the clan, for their family. they knew he would never tell the RDA anything... not willingly at least.

they knew they were leaving because Spider would be tortured for information, he'd be forced to reveal their home, their plans, their numbers, their weaknesses. their brother would be tortured and they were being forced to leave him behind.

they knew they were being forced to find a new home, without their brother, because their dad knew he would be tortured.

[demigods-posts]

no, i'm fine. seriously. it's just that percy's fatal flaw is unwavering loyalty because gabe betrayed his trust and he never forgot it. so he's terrified of letting his guard down. but he remembers what it feels like to be let down. so he wears his heart on his sleeve. only to get hurt in the process. and it becomes a vicious cylce of taking a bullet for the one behind the trigger. but i'm fine.

[aficionadoenthusiast]

honestly jason's power level makes sense to me if only because zeus is terrified of any of his kids being able to rival him

[book-lover85]

Stay at home dad and artist on commission Keefe

[breathofthewildyaverage]

Felt like making Wild’s scars way worse, so TW for gore I guess

Inspired by Tashacee’s Learning to Trust fic, I would tag them but idk their name on here :(

(This is INSPIRED BY, not supposed to be exactly like the fic)

I used Sally Face fanart for references lmao

With face coverings:

[ghost-bxrd]

How would Mini Bruce from your Antithesis of Magic AU react, after he debuts as Mockingjay (suck a clever name btw I cannot put into words the joy your works bring me), how would he react to messing up on patrol and Red Hood protects him but gets captured by the bats in the process?

So mini bruce escapes, but Jason gets captured, and mini Bruce doesn't know if they're putting him in Arkham (with the clown, the clown that haunts Jason's nightmares years later, they're gonna put him with the clown) or taking him to the Bat cave (dark and dank cave, they'll put him in a cell, it might be small enough to remind him of the coffin he had to claw his way out of), or worse, taking him to the justice league watchtower (somewhere mini Bruce cannot even hope of breaking into, somewhere he can't reach Jason, his only remaining family, he can't save him there) 🦇

He would raise hell on a city wide scale.

There would be a day of awful, mind numbing panic and desperation on Bruce’s behalf. A day in which he acts his age and just breaks down, crying and just wanting his dad Jason back and hug him and tell him everything is going to be alright because Jason promised he’d never leave him—

And then Bruce would methodically try to block out his acute mental distress and fall into a clinical, single minded focus.

Because they took Jason away and he’s going to get him back no matter what. Bruce will NOT let the bats win. They want war? They can bloody well have war.

And mini Bruce, taught personally by a theater kid, knows how to put on a show. Knows how to go absolutely batshit insane if he has to. It’s not even hard with what he knows is at stake here.

I can totally see our little gremlin plant several large scale bombs across the city. Even in civilian hubs. They’re not rigged to blow, but the Bats don’t know that. And Bruce would make sure to make an ultimatum that’s “either give him back or you’ll have the blood of approximately five hundred thousand people on your hands” and emphasize it with blowing up an abandoned apartment building on the outskirts of Diamond District. There aren’t any casualties, only a couple mild injuries resulting from debris, but the message is clear.

The bombs exist. And Mockingjay is more than willing to detonate them.

[oscarcito]

Learning to race Webber, the former Formula 1 driver who is now Piastri’s manager, has long spoken of the Melburnian’s composure behind the wheel. That was innate, according to Sera, but Piastri had to learn to handle the attention he received from his rivals. “He was composed from day one,” Sera says. “Just a very calm, quiet and composed kid, and he’s still exactly like that right now. If 90 per cent of race car drivers had his composure, they’d be a lot better off. “[But] he just got muscled around a bit because he was fast and everyone knew he was fast. He’d qualify well, and then he’d slip back in the races because he’d get pushed around by drivers who knew if he got in front, he’d win. But he’d always fight back.”

[mettywiththenotes]

Thinking about the possible aftermath between Tomura and Izuku after the war, and how Inko might feel about it

Like... You tried to kill my son multiple times. You held him hostage once. You tried to kill everyone. The attack from your villain group is the reason he isolated himself from the people who love him. I can't understand you. I don't think I want to understand you. How could you do all of this? Why did my son want to save you?

Why, in the end, did it work?

You're in this room with these heroes and I don't know anything about you but still I never imagined someone like you could look so small. I don't know what they plan to do with you. I don't know what to do either. I used to think you should leave us alone, locked up and shut away. But the way my son looks at you, the way he hangs onto the hope for your future, the way he looks even more changed after coming out of that final battle, I wonder if he wants there to be another way. I wonder if locking you away is the right thing

I offered cookies to my son. I only offered them to you because I felt obligated and nervous about what you would do if left out. I can't forget the look on your face when you took one and bit into it. You thanked me, quietly, and it was strange to me that a villain like you could behave in such a way

You look small again. You keep to yourself despite how rude you can be. You keep bringing out that video game device when you're bored and take up space anywhere you can, on the floor or on the couch, in people's way. There's paperwork to do, a pile they want you to fill out before going forward, and you're groaning like it's homework. You behave more like a teenager than a villain. You're more like a kid, sometimes

I made cookies again. This time I offer one to you because I want to. You take one and thank me before you even take a bite. It's like you already know they'll be good

I could have sworn I only had one son