desos-records
Let Me Put It This Way
Joan. plagued by visions since birth. 20s, Ace, she/they. AO3: BrooklynBooks. Aesthetic Playlists Masterlist
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Gender?🤨 Man or Muppet.
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I turn to Ares.
Thanks to Tyler Miles Lockett who allowed me to draw inspiration from his ARES piece for page 2! Look at his etsy page it's SICK
⚔️ If you want to read some queer retelling of arturian legends have a look at my webtoon
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And then nothing bad happened ever
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Fascinated and devastated by EPIC: The Musical flipping the moral script of Odysseus' arc, yet coming to the same conclusions.
There's Classic Odysseus, who accepts that his fate and the fate of his men are out of his control. Classic Odysseus, who knowingly sacrificed six men to Scylla and accepted the cost without second thought. Classic Odysseus, who mourns his men then blames them for their own deaths because of disobedience or cowardice or hunger, comparing them to the goats herded on Ithaca.
And there's EPIC Odysseus, who from the start chafes against the will of the gods in favor of his compassion. EPIC Odysseus, who does not accept that his fate and the fate of his men are out of his control and suffers because of it. EPIC Odysseus, who is clever as ever, yet reckless with his heart.
But they are not so different as that. Troy did make Odysseus kinder. Patroclus demonstrated to them all how compassion is more honorable than any act of glory when he lied and took up arms and fought without thought to his own prestige, but only so that the slaughter of his friends would end. Odysseus saw the horrors committed after Troy's walls fell. He--the liar, the schemer, the man of many turns--understood the dishonor more than anyone and refused to repeat it for the sake of others.
They both come to understand that the wicked, vicious, ruthless aspect of their nature is acceptable when used in defense of their own. They slaughter their enemies with honor, but they will slaughter their enemies. They draw the line in the sand. Every man will be given the chance to prove their honor--hospitality and strangers, it always returns to hospitality and strangers, Zeus is the god of both and demands their sanctity--and every man who crosses that line will prove himself an enemy. And enemies will be slaughtered and sacrificed like cattle.
Ruthlessness is mercy--mercy for Penelope and Telemachus and Laertes who have suffered by his absence, who survived twenty years unprotected and three years under siege only by Penelope's cleverness. Not even to mention Ithaca and its people left without a king. Who else could have saved them? With Laertes too old and Telemachus too young and Penelope confined to only her loom and her tongue as weapons.
Were they worth the deaths of 600 soldiers? 108 young men? 12 enslaved women?
Athena, and through her the epic itself, declares that they are worth the bloodshed, for they are on the right side of the line.
#don't mind me just breaking down a little#epic the musical#epic the underworld saga#odysseus#the odyssey#greek mythology
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Take 2
Click for better quality | my ask box is open for requests | DM me for commissions
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Bringing back my unpopular opinion but please stop saying they’d kiss here.
They wouldn’t. He’s having a PANIC ATTACK.
the end 😁
#Queue this#lockwood & co#lockwood and co#yes absolutely they would NOT kiss here#and they don't need to kiss At All to love each other#but there's an alt universe out there#where they forehead touch all the time#for all sorts of reasons#and another alt universe#where they kiss and they're still backlit in the same gorgeous fashion they are in this shot#its the cinematography for me
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hot artists don't gatekeep
I've been resource gathering for YEARS so now I am going to share my dragons hoard
Floorplanner. Design and furnish a house for you to use for having a consistent background in your comic or anything! Free, you need an account, easy to use, and you can save multiple houses.
Comparing Heights. Input the heights of characters to see what the different is between them. Great for keeping consistency. Free.
Magma. Draw online with friends in real time. Great for practice or hanging out. Free, paid plan available, account preferred.
Smithsonian Open Access. Loads of free images. Free.
SketchDaily. Lots of pose references, massive library, is set on a timer so you can practice quick figure drawing. Free.
SculptGL. A sculpting tool which I am yet to master, but you should be able to make whatever 3d object you like with it. free.
Pexels. Free stock images. And the search engine is actually pretty good at pulling up what you want.
Figurosity. Great pose references, diverse body types, lots of "how to draw" videos directly on the site, the models are 3d and you can rotate the angle, but you can't make custom poses or edit body proportions. Free, account option, paid plans available.
Line of Action. More drawing references, this one also has a focus on expressions, hands/feet, animals, landscapes. Free.
Animal Photo. You pose a 3d skull model and select an animal species, and they give you a bunch of photo references for that animal at that angle. Super handy. Free.
Height Weight Chart. You ever see an OC listed as having a certain weight but then they look Wildly different than the number suggests? Well here's a site to avoid that! It shows real people at different weights and heights to give you a better idea of what these abstract numbers all look like. Free to use.
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Magic's not allowed in Gotham, but Jason's never been one to follow rules. // Jason Todd helps out the local exorcist.
Jason Todd/Reader
Word Count: 1,464
Warnings: some mild violence, demonic possession
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Jason still liked churches. He told himself it was the architecture, Gotham Cathedral had no shortage of vaulted ceilings, gargoyles, and huge stained glass windows. Its roof was one of the best places to watch the city—high up, plenty of corners and crevices to hide in, no guards making rounds or rogues ready to attack. The bells echoed against the city's metal and glass, the strong notes sounding solemn or joyful, but always reliable.
On pain of death or torture, he wouldn't tell anyone that he liked the quiet most of all. Silence in Gotham often meant something was about to go violently wrong. It was an empty feeling, the second between fire sucking in oxygen and the shockwave exploding. But here, the quiet air was full and warm, something almost hummed just outside his hearing. Even sitting on the roof in the cold air, he could still feel the warmth.
He didn't dare go inside though. He had a thousand reasons not to, namely that he didn't feel like getting another lecture. Bruce was self-righteous enough to last Jason a lifetime. He didn't want to sit under the judgement of the person sitting in the pew beside him. He didn't want to talk about what he believed in or what he didn't.
All Jason wanted was to sit in the quiet and warmth. He could do that from the roof.
On an especially cold night, he sat leaning against a gargoyle, watching the light from the stained glass reflect off the gently falling snow—red, blue, gold, green, and a hundred others swirling in the wind below him. Then the quiet shattered.
"Don't move! It's gonna be okay."
He recognized that voice, its clarity and ability to be kind and commanding all at once. You didn't operate in Gotham very often; your particular brand of justice took you all over the world, but when you did, it meant something had gone very very wrong. Jason smiled to himself anyway.
You didn't keep a secret identity like he did—there was no point when all the bad guys were after your soul—but Bruce had taken to calling you Harbinger and the name stuck. He still preferred your real one though.
Then Jason heard a guttural string of sounds that fell through the air like curses. You spat the demonic language back and Jason caught a flash of golden light somewhere in the Cathedral’s cemetery. Quickly, he shot his grappling gun and swung down, landing in the snow with a soft crunch. Keeping his head down and hood up, shielded by the Cathedral’s shadow, he tracked the familiar sounds of a fight and the eerie echoes of magic.
"No, you'll get out of her right now or so help me God, I will exorcize your head right up your ass."
Jason peeked around a statue and saw you under a cluster of Yew trees, magic sparking from your hands as the golden lines pinned a young woman to one of the trees. A little boy was crouched behind a headstone nearby. Even at a distance, Jason could see how the woman's eyes had turned black. She writhed and snarled at you.
Demonic possession. Your version of stopping a mugger.
You looked a little worse for wear. He saw burn marks in your coat, cuts and scrapes that hadn't yet healed, and something dark and slick had splattered across you—something that was not mud. Even still, he couldn't help the warm buzz he felt every time he saw you.
He wanted to jump in and help, but he knew he wasn't much use while a demon still had its hold on someone. And he'd learned not to distract you while you worked magic.
"Alright, but don't say I didn't warn you."
You strode forward and pressed a hand against the woman's sternum and the other against her forehead. The weave of magic kept the woman's arms and legs pinned back even as she struggled. You were speaking Latin now and the demon screamed curses in its bitter language. Smoke rose from the points where you touched it.
A shockwave erupted outwards and a thick black liquid, like crude oil, gushed out of the woman's mouth, eyes, and ears, staining the snow. Instead of flowing away, it pulled itself inward, forming a humanoid creature taller than Jason. Looking at it, he felt a deep instinct to run.
The little boy screamed and the demon turned its head. Jason bolted forward. He scooped up the little boy, drew his gun and fired all in the same motion. The demon screeched, more surprised than hurt, and staggered backward. You were there to catch it, your magic tangling itself around the demon. With one final shouted spell, your hands moved as if pulling something apart. The demon shattered into fiery pieces, dissolving into the snow.
Quiet returned to the graveyard. You helped the woman to stand, then turned to Jason.
"I need to get her to a hospital," you said, a phone appearing in your hand with a flick of your wrist and a flash of golden light.
He nodded and set the little boy down. "I'll wait for you on the roof."
A tired smile flickered over your face as you reached out, took his free hand, and squeezed gently. "Thank you," you said softly.
Over an hour later, he heard the whoosh of sudden magic, saw a flash of gold in the dark, and then you appeared across from him on the Cathedral's roof. He smiled and slid off his helmet as he strode towards you.
"Can I assume that won't be the last one?" he said.
You shrugged, pulling your coat tighter around you. "Like rats, aren't they? Where there's one, there's ten more. Best to warn your people."
He stopped a few steps shy of you. If you were surprised to see him, it didn't show.
"How long are you here?" he asked. Longer than last time, he thought, please say longer than last time.
You looked up and over his shoulder, staring at the steeple. "A couple days maybe. Depends on how long it takes to find the nest."
Damn.
"Want some help?"
Now you squinted at him, eyes glowing faintly in the dark. "I appreciate it, but it's a little outside your wheelhouse, Red."
He shook his head. "That's what you always say. It's my neighborhood, you know."
"I know. But if I make any more noise, The Bat will stick his nose in it and slow things down." You spread your arms out, twirling your hands like a performer, as sparks danced between your fingers. "No magic in Gotham, remember?"
Jason watched you carefully, paying closer attention to your injuries and noting the weight pulling at your posture, the slight tremor. "At least let me give you a place to crash. You look dead on your feet."
You smiled again, still faint as you looked away from him and dropped your hands. The lights went out. "I'm not so safe to be around at the moment."
"You never are."
You looked him up and down, considering, weighing your options. "Does this offer include take out? I took a little detour through Hell, you see. Hard to get a decent meal down there."
Jason let his smile spread wide and easy as he offered you his hand. "Sweetheart, you got yourself an in-house chef."
Shaking your head, with a scoff that sounded like a laugh, you took his hand. As always, your skin hummed with the magic that coursed through you and, as always, it sent a shiver up his spine.
"Still flirting with death, I see," you said.
He tugged you forward gently, then wrapped an arm around you and lifted his grappling gun from its holster. "Well, you're awful pretty."
As if it were the most natural thing in the world, you draped your arm across his shoulders, pulling the two of you even closer--the only trouble was you smelled of death too, blood and brimstone. But you were warm and radiant and never judged him and he wanted to be those things for you in return, if you'd let him.
There was something there in the space between you, humming like the air around the Cathedral, something magic. But it might break if he spoke it out loud, so he settled for holding you tighter. He didn't flinch from the steady glow of your eyes, inches away from his.
"Charmer," you said, the edge of a genuine smile in the corner of your mouth.
"You said it, not me."
Sparks erupted inside him when you nearly laughed. Then he fired the grappling gun and you both clung tight to each other as you rushed into the air.
#back into the one-two shot groove suddenly#dc gave me jason with a dark catholic aesthetic#and I'm about to make it everybody's problem#jason todd#jason todd x reader#dc#fan fic
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I'm on the run with you, my sweet love [x]
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“wayne family adventures is fan service” this, “wayne family adventures is fan service” that, good. i’m glad. i’m glad it’s fan service and i hope that makes you angry, actually. besties what is the fucking point of media if not to service the fans. isn’t that the whole point. isn’t that why they make the media, so that people can enjoy it?
all i’m saying is i just saw the first faithful representation of my favorite character’s mental illness in a compassionate and thoughtful way without blaming him for his trauma and i swear to god it changed my life. if that’s not the point of creating and enjoying art then what is?
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Feel like it’s overshadowed by George’s “go write a poem about it”, but the Lockwood & George exchange right before that is legit one of the funniest moments in the series for me.
Lockwood: Gravediggers. Proper honest blokes, y’know, real salt-of-the-earth.
George: You’ve never even spoken to them.
Lockwood: …yeah, well they’re a bit scary.
Like it’s giving “rich politician trying to relate to the common folk” and I love that George calls him out on it lol
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“the ending is always the same”
war of the foxes - richard silken / waterloo - ABBA / euripides’ medea - the little theatre / anne carson / the three fates - luca cambiaso / the oresteia - aeschylus / road to hell II - hadestown / when i met you - mira lightner / andersen’s fairy tale anthology
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recently got into Leverage and I have to say. Elliot and Hardison are the PREMIERE example of the Texas/Deep South relationship. it's like. I hate you. I'd jump off a bridge for you. you're the worst person I have ever met. you're the only one who understands me in this room full of yankees. I'd give you a kidney, but you canNOT have my beer.
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Just a little thing I noticed from the show that I found cute☺️
•Lockwood getting his orange juice from the fridge AND shaking it up to make sure he gets a large amount of pulp in his mug. 🍊🐋
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Book 2 au with Zuko and Katara Lee and Huamei
Katara is separated from her friends, and so she's left to travel the earth kingdom on her own. She stumbles across Zuko, who is similarly travelling on his own. They decide that pairing up and travelling together would be best
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