#out of control over here

[unrelatedsideblog]

bleping doodles idk

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Kiss Kiss Fallen Tree!

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[erinwantstowrite]

personally i think the trope of "said something i wasn't supposed to while high on pain meds at the hospital" only works if it's smth actually incomprehensible. down with this trope. that and the whole "speaking out loud but the narrator doesn't know they are" trope. you should legally have to tag that i think. i know this usually happens for characters that would never admit something otherwise but actually there are a billion reasons someone would admit something they wouldn't otherwise. for example: someone else has a bomb-

[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.

[gummi-ships]

Kingdom Hearts Dream Drop Distance - The World That Never Was

[mangosaurus]

speaking to my fellow benrius shippers right now: can we make a group pact to behave ourselves if benrius isn't made canon in jwct. i do not want to see this fandom become bitter and resentful, or have that anger be redirected at the cast and crew. these people have worked really hard to deliver us a very special show—do not let your commitment to a certain ship keep you from appreciating that!

[mikakuna]

i feel like jason constantly wearing a helmet has ruined his ability to control his facial expressions since he makes whatever faces he wants while in costume. but when he's out of it?

bruce says something audacious and jason will make the hardest stink face ever. tim tries to get smart with him? he's pulling a top-notch incredulous expression. someone creepy flirts with him and jason is immediately making the nastiest look of disgust that instantly makes everyone who was about to lay a move on him back up ten feet.

or sometimes it'll be harmless! batman tells red hood he did a good job after patrol and suddenly jason is looking up at him with sparkling wide eyes, lips parted, and the slightest tilt in his head like he can't believe his kinda-not-anymore dad just praised him. it's an adorable and, frankly, heartbreaking expression that makes bruce mentally clutch his chest.

[notbecauseofvictories]

This is going to sound negative, but I think Snuff deserves to be the last Discworld book. I mean, Raising Steam is good in certain ways, a fond elegy to the characters and plots a reader has come to know so well. I don't even object to the visceral pleasure of the earlier novels giving way to something diffuse, harder to pin down. (Unseen Academicals felt like this---a wonderful novel, but not actually a victory; just a plot that rearranged matters in an interesting way.) But there's a sort of...ill magic setting in, by the time you get to the scene where Vetinari gives medals to our wonderful shining heroes of the railway.

Namely, they're too good at this.

Vimes uses the Summoning Dark multiple times, and without even the terrified self-doubt he was showing in Snuff. (I have other issues with Snuff, but that was an interesting thread to pull.) Vetinari not-too-discretely points the Black Clerks at a problem, and it is solved; when necessary, he goes undercover working on something he personally considers vaguely distasteful, and yet becomes the center of a folk song. Moist neither sleeps, nor eats nor makes love to his wife (except sometimes, too rarely in his opinion) but rushes all over doing the railways' job for---what? for why?

They're too good, they've climbed too high; Vimes and Vetinari are edging into myth while still being alive, and Moist was already half of a song anyway, has been since he put on the golden suit.

I'm not saying it's not an interesting setup, because strangely it is. But it feels like the start of something, not closure at all, because what else is Discworld good for if not to tackle the fact that everything glowy and laden with awe will not remain such. Because, you know, that's how the world works.

[normalbrothers]

TOMMY: The war is done! Shut the door on it like I did.

[bacchuschucklefuck]

riz gukgak is SO distressing to have as a favourite character I can never funckign rest out here

[raionmimi]

Anni Cu Alter x One Inch Princess Medb just dropped, so I had to doodle them

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Bare skin, bare feelings.

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[denkisauce]

literally when has another ship given as much as bakudeku has. when has another ship encompassed so many tropes all at once while also having the relationship develop the way it has???? sometimes i’m just like dumbfounding by the depth that exists between them like they’re not just childhood friends, they’re not just rivals to lovers they’re not just starcrossed they’re not just punk x nerd or jock x jock or nerd x nerd or whatever the fuck they’ve gone from best friends to broken to fixed to i would die for you x i would kill for you like????? the nicknames???? the fact that katsuki has never told deku to stop calling him kacchan even when their relationship was at their lowest???? the fact that he was carrying his all might card with him the whole time???????????? the fact that izuku is so defensive he unlocked new powers multiple times because of kacchan and katsuki is so defensive he was willing to die TWICE for izuku?????? even the smaller things, all might rooting for them, aizawa saying his whole thing about how the two of them push their entire class to go above and beyond,, house arrest boys???? ohhh my goddddd like i know we all know but i can’t stop thinking about all of this all the time 😩😩😩

[ifindus]

The Battle of Hjørungavåg - for the Mythtalia March by @hwsevents

-

"Never have Danes held such a battle with Norwegians, not before nor since" - Fagrskinna.

-

The battle of Hjørungavåg took place outside the Norwegian coast in the year 986, and was a sea battle between an invading Danish army and a defending Norwegian one. It was a battle of great national significance as the ruling Earl Håkon defended the country against the Danish King Svein Tjugeskjegg aided by the Joms Vikings, who wanted to take control over Norway and christen it.

The battle begun after some farmers tricked the Danes into believeing Earl Håkon only had 2-3 ships with him. They charged forth and got surprised by 50 ships lying in wait for them.

It was a fierce battle, and despite the element of surprise, the Norwegians suffered heavy losses early on. Most of the losses were with Earl Håkon, who fought against Svein Tjugeskjegg, a fight so intense that he had to shed his chainmail as it had become torn apart by all the weapons hitting him. Håkon's sons Eirik and Svein Håkonson fought against the Joms Vikings, Eirik saving his brother. This is when the battle turns.

Suddenly, a terrifying storm hits, with fierce waves of hail. The storm seemed almost magic and supernatural, and on the side of the Norwegians. Had the pagans used dark magic? It is said that Earl Håkon had sacrificed his 7 year old son Erling in a ritual for victory (probably false). The Earls of Lade had a connection to the female godess and spirit Torgerd Hølgebrud, who was called on whenever the family was in need. She came along with her sister and other valkyries on horses with bows and arrows, sending hail towards their enemies.

Torgerd is interpreted as an ancient fertility spirit, and these spirits are also connected with a warrior aspect. They protected certain families and are some of the oldest creatures in the pre-Christian Norse religion.

The supernatural warrior spirits was a convenient excuse for why Svein Tjugeskjegg fled the battle; it was impossible to fight against gods and trolls. It also supported the savage ways of the pagan religion.

As Svein flees, he leaves the Joms Vikings behind to be captured by the Earls. They were about to be executed by beheading, but one of them managed to get a hold of the sword and chop the head off the man about to kill him. Eirik Håkonson is impressed by this and grants them their freedom.

[the-breath-in-air]

So much discussion about the revisit in the trial to Louis & Lestat's fight and whether or not Louis made that very detailed threat to kill Lestat at the end of it and....my friends...it doesn't matter.

I mean, it matters in that it's a multilayered bit of storytelling. It matters in that it's another moment in which the coven uses racism to condemn Louis.

I mean, it could be real - we've seen Louis get quite unhinged before. We've seen him enact truly horrific violence - even by his own version of events. Always pushed to it by external forces (not just for the joy of it)...but still. It is not completely out of character for Louis to threaten to kill Lestat and feed his head to a lion. And previously in Dubai, Louis' had refuted (or corroborated) Letat's version of events - yet here we don't have Louis' perspective on Lestat's version.

However, we also have seen how Santiago and the coven have twisted events (and outright lied) in order to portray Louis as a racist caricature of a violent, predatory Black man. And although we've seen Louis get extremely violent, it's always in response to something...and here the trial has conveniently left out what prompted the fight. There's no mention of Lestat grabbing Claudia by the throat. Plus, we haven't seen Louis ever be quite that unhinged...and certainly not that unhinged with Lestat. It makes little sense for Louis to be quite so maniacal in his threats to Lestat after he'd told Claudia "it's over now."

So, did Louis threaten to kill Lestat and feed his head to lions? Entirely possible (though we know Louis wouldn't have been able to go through with it...not with Lestat). Did Santiago and the coven lie about and embellish whatever threats Louis may have made in order to portray him as a violent predator? Oh absolutely.

But also, like I said, it doesn't really matter in the context of the saga of Lestat & Louis' relationship.

Because the thing that prompted Lestat to go after Louis wasn't that threat. The thing that prompted Lestat to go after Louis and string him along by the neck and drop him from (at least) 2km in the sky was Louis potentially leaving with Claudia. Like, that's by Lestat's own admission. He couldn't control and own Louis, so he broke him. And what's more horrible than that?

[thegunslingerletmedrop]

Lestat would have saved Claudia if he had the energy. I believe that to my core. -

Jacob Anderson