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starry-bi-sky · 3 months

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There are two things that Damian knows that he knows Father doesn’t.

He has an older brother

He was dead

(And a secret third thing: Damian was glad he was dead. They did not get along.)

Well. No, correction, they were two things that Damian knew that Father didn't. Past tense. Strange magic swirled through the air and created a mirage before his eyes, and immediately a scowl forms across his face.

The mirage shifts and shimmers like the light hitting a slowly turning prism, and then it settles into a memory. One that Damian does not recall. Like looking into a tv screen, it shows, faintly, a room, with most of the magic going into the image of a crib.

His mother was standing on one side, and next to her, standing on his tiptoes was a small five year old boy looking up at her. With dark hair and skin that was only few shades lighter brown than Damian's, the little boy's resemblance to Damian was undeniable.

However, his eyes were blue. Not green. Damian's scowl deepens, and he sinks back. "Danyal." He mutters, and feels eyes turn on to him.

Danyal Al Ghul. Damian's older brother. A prodigal swordsman like Damian, and five years his senior. He'd be fifteen if he was still alive. His memory of the last time he saw his brother was still clear in his mind.

(A sword to Danyal's neck. Stars were glittering through his window. Damian was five, Danyal ten. He is not sure why Danyal had snuck into his room, all he remembers is hearing a sound and on instinct reaching for his sword.)

(His brother had intercepted easily. But had not shoved the sword away. Moonlight hit his blue eyes, and Damian remembers seeing the pupils shrink to let the light in. His eyes looked almost silver.)

(His brother bares his teeth at him. Damian wants to slice his neck more than anything, and he bares his teeth back. "Good." Danyal says, his voice low in a hiss, "Your reflexes are good, little brother.")

("Of course they are," Damian remembers snarling, and presses the sword closer. But it does not budge. "I am an Al Ghul.")

(Something unrecognizable passes through his brother's eyes, and his mouth twists into something like a smile. "I know." He says, and tilts his head downwards at him. "And you will be great.")

(His brother shoves the sword back, causing Damian to stumble. And like the wind, he is gone.)

(The next morning, he goes on a mission with mother and a few others. Mother is the only one to return with Danyal's sword, and a red-eyed look in her eyes. Damian does not mourn. Now there's only one of them.)

"Momma." The little Danyal-mirage speaks, a furrow between his childlike brows as mother lowers a bundle into the crib. His blue eyes watch her, and lifts onto his toes to peer into the crib as she sets the baby down. "Who is this?"

Their mother's hand comes to rest along his back. "This is Damian, my son." She murmurs, voice low. "He is your little brother. Protect him well."

Damian scoffs internally -- not likely. He remembers every spar he ever had with Danyal, every harsh word and insult. His pushing, pushing, pushing for Damian to get up. To try again. Do it again. The only kindness he ever showed him was when his fingers bled. And even that was harsh, firm. Rolling gauze around his wrist and scolding him, telling him how to wield his weapon better.

(It was the same as everyone else, but somehow it hurt worse coming from his own brother.)

But he watches his older brother's youngest self tilt his head to the side, and then reach his chubby hand through the crib's bars. He runs small, blunt fingers over the baby's arm, and the baby jerks. Through the crib's bars, Damian sees himself grab Danyal's fingers.

And he scowls even deeper.

And Danyal's eyes... widen. He lets out a little gasp, and a small smile Damian's never seen him wear tilts at the corner of his mouth as he looks up at their mother. "Mother," he whispers, "he grabbed me!"

Damian... his scowl falters, for a moment.

He doesn't wait for a response, he looks back to the baby with sparking eyes. His expression melts like sugar as he bounces the finger being gripped tight by the small hand. "Hello, little brother." His brother says, voice its of usual firmness, but there's more fondness underlying it than Damian's ever heard. "My name is Danyal."

The mirage shifts before Damian can comprehend his older brother's voice. It shows the crib again, appearing as if a few days had passed. There is night lilting through the nearby window, and a creek of the door. The baby doesn't stir.

Danyal sneaks in, still wearing his training clothes and a sword strapped to his side. Damian's scowl returns, watching him creep over to the crib. Of course -- the last night he saw his brother wasn't the only time he'd snuck into his room.

Would he go so low as to attack an infant? Damian wonders, watching his brother cross the room to his crib. But while his fingers rest against the hilt, they never curl to unsheathe.

His brother peers into the crib again, and there it is again, that smile wider in the corner of his mouth. It's not a full one, but its as uninhibited as it gets. Dripping honey-sweet with awe. "You are so tiny." Danyal whispers, and pokes a finger back through the crib. It wriggles, then pokes Damian's cheek gently. "Was I as small as you when mother gave birth to me?"

There is no response from the baby. Not a coherent one anyways, the little thing snuffles and turns his head, mouth open to latch. Danyal stills, his eyes grow ever wider again.

Danyal says nothing else, just rests his cheek against the crib and watches the baby sleep in silence. The affection never leaves his young face.

Damian feels unsettled. Off-foot. This Danyal is foreign to him... He wonders what happened to have changed his brother's mind on him.

There's a scuffle, quiet, but there. Danyal picks up on it just as Damian does, and his head pricks up like a deer, head already turning away from the crib. The affection leaves his face, falling away like water into something serious. His blade is already slightly unsheathed.

Two assassins, belonging to grandfather, burst out of the shadows. Their swords swinging into the air and ready to strike.

Danyal kills them both, his back to the crib. It's not without struggle, and when the two assassins lay dead on the floor, the baby is wailing at the top of his lungs. Danyal has a laceration cleaving down diagonal of his cheek. It's close to his eye, just barely missed blinding him.

Damian never knew how he got that scar. He does now. (He doesn't know how to feel about it.)

His brother clutches his bleeding face, sheathing his sword as tears well up onto his face. But he turns towards the crib, and hurries over. "You're okay, you're okay, you're okay." He hushes rapidly, the League-drilled seriousness fallen away to reveal a panic-stricken five year old. He sticks one hand into the crib, the one not clutching anything, and grabs little Damian's hand.

Their mother comes bursting in that moment, and Danyal turns his head towards her. "Mother." He says, his voice cracks un-wantingly. Their mother steps over the bodies of the assassins easily. "They tried to kill Damian."

"But they did not." Talias says, kneeling down next to the crib to inspect Danyal's face and Damian's well-being. When she finds nothing of concern beyond the injury, she continues. "You killed them before they could, Danyal. Well done."

The mirage of his brother nods, his eyes teary and red.

Damian... is discomfited. he never thought Danyal would kill assassins for him. He would have thought his brother would sooner look the other way. The mirage shifts again, and it quickly shows time passing.

Danyal sits in Damian's nursery every night, after that. He lays at the foot of the crib with his sword, a pillow and a blanket with him. Some nights there is nothing but peace -- or as close to peace as a baby could achieve -- and some days assassins break in.

Danyal kills each one.

The mirage shifts again, and it shows more memories of Danyal interacting with Damian during his youth too young for him to remember. His first steps, his first words.

"Danya." The small toddler of Damian says, arms reaching for Danyal.

A frown curls across Danyal's face, and pulls Damian into his lap. "No, no, little brother." He scolds, voice firm but.. softer. "It is Danyal, Damian. Danyal."

"Danya!"

Damian's brother sighs, but there is that same-small tilt at the corner of his mouth. A glimmer in his eyes. A glimmer... that Damian is finding he recognizes.

(He always thought his brother got that look in his eyes when he was mocking him. Was he wrong?)

The mirage shifts again, and this time it shows only mother and Danyal, alone. Danyal is older, taller. Seven, if Damian had to guess. Mother has a stern look on her face, her hands tight on his shoulders. "Damian will be starting training soon, my son."

Ah, then close to eight then. Training starts, always, at three years old. He watches Danyal nod, his expression mimicking their mother's. His arms are folded, always folded, behind his back, always neat.

"You can no longer have the relationship with your brother as you did before." Mother says.

Danyal's expression... falters. It shifts, it fluctuates. He looks surprised, thrown off. Like he isn't quite sure he heard what mother just said. His brows furrow. "What... do you mean, mother?"

"I mean what I said, Danyal." Mother says, stern, "Ra's will be keeping a closer eye on Damian now that he is of age to begin his training. He will not like if he sees you both getting along."

"I am sorry, my child. But your relationship with Damian ends here. You are rivals now, not brothers." In a cruel form a gentleness, mother raises her hand and tucks a stray curl out of Danyal's face.

Of course. Damian never had a relationship with his brother because of Grandfather. Of course. No, he's not feeling a little bitter. No. There's not an inner child that still, like a candleflame, wishes that he'd had a bond with his only flesh and blood.

Danyal is dead now. So it's not like it matters. He's happy about this.

Danyal frowns, and he steps back. He looks lost in thought. "We are still brothers, mother," he says, argues, and looks up to meet mother's eyes. "Let me train him, I will make sure he gets the skill he needs. If we must be rivals, then I will teach him how to defeat me. If he can defeat me, he can defeat anybody."

Their mother, and Damian, both blink in unison. Then mother smiles something sharp, calculated. She folds her hands behind her back. "Then do it. But you will make him hate you."

"...So be it."

Damian.... Damian is silent. His world axis has been tilted on its head. He is sliding, and sliding, and sliding down. Spinning. Many things click into place at once.

More memories from the mirage show. It shows Danyal training Damian. It shows their arguing, their bickering. It shows Danyal going to their mother to praise Damian and his skills, how fast he is picking up on the sword. How one day he will surpass even him.

It shows Danyal sitting outside Damian's bedroom door every night, listening in for anyone who dares to break in. His knees drawn to his chest, his sword at his side. Sometimes he sneaks in, sword drawn, when he hears a sound.

Some nights, Damian wakes up. He remembers those nights. Danyal standing over his bed with his sword unsheathed and tight at his side. He remembers the instant terror as he immediately reached for his own weapon.

His brother always scolded him for his lack of vigilance. That had he been anyone else, Damian would have had his neck cut. He would've been dead already. It only made Damian's hatred of him grow.

But he understands now. Because there were assassins in the room that Damian, four years old, three, did not notice. Not until later. He always assumed the attacks on him after Danyal's death had been because now there was a new heir to target.

It had been the only lesson he'd been even somewhat grateful for.

Then finally the mirage shimmers, and it shows Danyal, ten years old, in one of the training rooms, mid-spar with Mother. It's fast, sharp, impressive and like a blur. Damian is unsure if at ten which one of them was the better swordsman. Some of the assassins who have never met Danyal said Damian was, but the ones who had said it was Danyal. He'll never know.

In a lull in the fight, when their swords are crossed, mother speaks. "Ra's wants you and Damian to fight." She says, teeth grit into a deep scowl. The cross breaks and Danyal jumps back, he frowns.

"We have fought, mother." He says, and dives in first, swinging for mother's feet. Mother dodges, and slices at his arm. He swerves out of the way, twisting on his feet like a dance. "We are always fighting, doesn't he see our spars?"

"Not a spar like that, my son." Mother says, a snarl in her voice. She lunges, and Danyal blocks her blade. "A fight to the death. Father has grown tired of having two heirs."

That gets Danyal's attention -- or, more accurately, it distracts it. His eyes widen, and his sword lowers for a single moment. A mistake. "What?" Is all he gets out before mother has him on his back, her blade pressed to his throat.

He freezes. As does Damian. Danyal's brows furrow, then unfurrow, only to knot up again. "Mother, what do you mean a fight to the death?" He flips to his feet when mother removes the sword. She walks over to grab her water.

"Must I repeat myself, Danyal?" Mother snaps, rubbing her forehead before swigging from her canteen. "Father wants to find out which one of you is the stronger heir, and so you will fight to the death after your training in a few days."

Danyal's tan face loses a shade of color, he looks ashy. "There must be some mistake!" He exclaims, his arms gesturing out as he peers around mother. "There is a five year disparity between us, Damian has only just started training two years ago. It would be an unfair fight!"

"Do you think me unaware?" Mother whirls on him, and there is a grief-stricken look on her face. Like she is already mourning Damian's death. Damian feels ill. "Your skill is far beyond what Damian can accomplish right now, and there is nothing that I say that can convince Father otherwise."

Danyal wears an expression like he is scrambling for answers. A white knuckle grip on his weapon. There is a long silence, and his lower lip curls up. His throat bobs, he swallows. "Is there really nothing we can do?"

Mother makes a frustrated sound, pushing her loose hairs out of her face. "Not unless Father changes his mind, or I send one of you away. But Father would surely send someone to look for you or Damian."

"What if one of us faked our death?"

Mother stills. As does Damian. No, he thinks, stiff as a rod, no way. These mirages were lying, nothing but figments of an imagination. Of some quiet what-if that Damian had not yet stomped out.

Mother's expression shifts, and then turns contemplative. Danyal notices, and keeps pushing, he looks as hopeful as he could get beyond his usual unwavering, stone-like expression. "One of us could go to father--"

"No." Mother cuts off, voice sharp. Danyal wilts, confusion flittering across his face. Damian, from the corner of his eye, sees Father tense as stone. His white-slit eyes have not left the mirage. Nobody's has.

"Father will undoubtedly check there first, it would not be a good idea. You or Damian will have to go somewhere where he would not think to look. Someone unaffiliated with the League."

Danyal's face falls, shutters, and then closes up again into stone. Mother begins to pace, and Danyal's blue eyes follow her. "So a stranger?" He asks, and there is disgust lilting into his voice.

Mother nods, and she looks just as offput as Danyal.

The mirage of Damian's brother rolls his shoulders back. "Then I will do it, mother." He says, voice unwavering. There is a stubborn note behind it all, one that Damian recognizes. "I will fake my death, and Damian will stay here."

Mother's eyes turn sharp on him, and she stops in her spot. She pivots. "Are you sure?" She asks, eyebrow raising, "There is a chance you will never meet your Father if you leave. Nor will you see I or Damian again, if you do this."

Something like fear flickers across Danyal's face, eyes widening momentarily -- as if that very thought had not crossed his mind. But then it smooths over to sharp determination. He nods. "It would be the same for Damian if it was him instead. I will do it, Mother."

Damian feels ill again. Father has a strong set in his jaw, his teeth grinding.

Mother stares at Danyal, and then her expression softens. And like before, it is grieving. "In a few days time, I and another member of the League will be going on a mission to the American States. I will tell Father that you will accompany me, once there we will dispose of the other member and then orchestrate your death."

The American States. Danyal was here, in the country. He was out there somewhere -- but no this was fake. It had to be. Danyal was dead. A fool who got himself killed on a mission with mother and left the title of Heir to Damian.

Or maybe it had been his plan all along. His and mother's both.

...Was mother ever going to tell him?

The mirage of Danyal nods, sharp. Understanding. There is a gleam in his eyes that is not pride, it is tears. And when Mother leaves the room and leaves him alone, the stone-like expression on his face crumbles and falls.

His brother, ten years old, curls up his lip in an ugly way. It wobbles as the tears in his eyes do, and he brings up his hand to slam it over his mouth. And sinks to his knees, a yell-like sob muffled behind the skin.

His brother, ten years old, looks smaller than Damian remembers him being, and cries.

Damian has never seen Danyal cry. Not once in the mirage of memories, nor in his own.

The memory holds for a minute, and then disappears. And no new one shows up. The magic is gone, and it leaves a silence in its wake. Heavy, staticky, and full of revelations.

So there are two things that Damian knows that his Father now knows too.

He has an older brother

His older brother is alive.

(And a new secret third thing: Damian wasn't sure how to feel about it.)

#dpxdc #dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #danny fenton is not the ghost king #dp x dc prompt #dpxdc prompt #i promise this is a prompt #it just got very long #danyal al ghul au #my take on a danyal al ghul au #older brother danny #dpdc #dpxdc crossover #i know the usual gist is that danyal al ghul is a better knife thrower than he is a swordsman but hey #consider: phantom has a sword when he fights ghosts. how sick is that?#his ghost form having allusions to the LoA. its not obvious but its there #did i make danny brown skinned? yeah. because him being white or not is irrelevant to me and i wanted to make him darker skinned #thinking about the angst of bruce seeing his firstborn son going “i could stay with father!” and then said child being visibly crushed #when told no. and that he may never see his father ever. actually. if he fakes his death. and still doing it anyways for damian's sake #danny loves his little brother he just shows it in an unorthodox way. some of it is not his fault #also danny being an absolute grump in amity park is very funny to me. he's an arrogant little assassin child in AP who is only here for #his little brother's sake and safety. he loves his brother but that doesnt stop him from being an arrogant little brat #gremlin assassin child danny is so funny #i know this is very ironic for me to post after posting my thoughts on danyal al ghul aus and their missed potential #but actually this prompt is what spurred that post into creation in the first place actually.#because i was thinking about this au and then went “oh hey you know whats funny--” and then i #thought about it too much to the point where i had to make a post talking about it #tried to find a balance between danny being mature for his age and also still being a kid #like yeah he’s a trained assassin and has killed but also he’s a 10yo boy about to be separated - Assumingly permanently- from his family

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vero-niche · 1 year

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can i just say how much i adore how Nao-chan's gender is treated so casually in skip to loafer

like, as a white cis woman who is also quite tall and havent read the manga i didnt even realize she was trans until this scene in ep2:

and i didnt even have the time to get nervous how they would handle this as they already moved on, ignoring the comments (just like queer people learn to do so) except for Mitsumi's comforting touch (implying she also heard the comments):

and there were no sad words or anything about this either, it was just handled so.... normally. which should not be something worth highlighting, but, well, you know. also on that note, special shoutout to P.A. Works for casting a woman as her voice actor as well.

she's shown being the supportive and lively aunt and like seconds later in this scene she's back to being her usual self again:

in conclusion

#im an anime only so i pray this post wont age like milk but i honestly dont think it will #maybe they will discuss something about it when/if mitsumi will be asking for an advice at some point but #judging by Theatre Kid in high heels not being ridiculed i think they will stay respectful and chill #i wish i could say more and in a better way but alas. i hope this will suffice #i just havent seen any posts about it in the tags and i was eager to rb something on it #anyway give this anime a try if you can <33 #skip to loafer #skip and loafer #trans #EDIT: i have been informed in the notes that this post will NOT age like milk. godbless <3

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inkskinned · 7 months

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it mattered because when my brother asked me what if this is the happiest you'll ever be? the best you'll ever get? the thing i felt was fear, not peace. everybody thought you were so perfect for me. even i thought you were "helping me grow". i had to challenge every internal clock. make myself more thoughtful, more kind, more beautiful.

i told my therapist it was good because i like the changes i made and there's something so strong about saying i did that. the problem is that i can like the difference all i want, but i changed for you. something akin to getting your name tattooed, all my progress is stamped with fuck you.

it was the happiest i'd ever been and also the best i'd ever gotten. i would still get in the car and think what the fuck just happened.

#warm up #writeblr #i spent a lot of time picturing our future #how funny to think: in each version of our future #i was never myself #i was someone smarter kinder braver #better adept.#who could navigate the way you shouted and got angry at small things and never fucking believed the best of me #i would never be needy and you'd never get tired of me #people usually talk about how we picture people as being “fixable”. but i assumed i was the problem. my idyllic picture wasn't of you.#it was a version of me that wasn't ill. that needed no extra help. that could be your wife and happy #the fact i wasn't happy was because there is something so wrong inside me. it's always been that way. i convinced myself:#if i stay i can change. if i stay i can make it worth it. i can apologize and fix this. and make us both okay.#for the last year i've been thinking about how you blamed our whole breakup on me. how it was my fault for whatever thing.#and i agreed with you. because of course i did. you'd trained me to believe everything was my fault . that you wanted to love me and i made #it far too hard. that i was always finding ways to ''set you off'.#a few days ago while i was doing something else #i realized that while i was in crisis you told me to fuck off and find someone else to get help. and you never fucking apologized .#you said i made you do that because i wasn't being sensible. i had been crying too hard to speak clearly.#you said: you're doing this to manipulate me.#you forgave yourself for that. i had to forgive you without apology. you said you were right to react that way. and then you were SO #SO annoyed. any time i said: i feel like you aren't nice to me. it is hard to trust that you love me.#i don't think about you that much anymore. but these days when i do: all i can think is that im not sure u ever really understood kindness #you were the cruelest to the people closest to you. and most of the time. that meant it fell to me.

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heartorbit · 1 year

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i wanna make a prsk major arcana...

#[knows i wont fucking do that so i post the 1 rough i have instead] all in a days work #project sekai #pjsk #prsk #mizuki akiyama #i posted alternate palettes for this on twitter and i like one of theme way better but im too lazy to get it rn. Lol #i would like to do skecthes for them all but im like ..#um. i dont know snything about tarot so people who DO will see my card assignments and go wtf are they feeding this guy #hermit is easy. pjsk gave that right to me. justice meiko too.#ive decided to pull a revstar and do the 25 card visconti with kagamines in one card. so now i have to reassign with hope charity and faith #boohoo. however the sun emu and the moon mafuyu are staying i know what im about. also kohane with death and an with the lovers #those make me feel like a genius. the rest ill stay shy about. if i say all my assignments ill never feel the urge to draw them #sorry for scheduling these to post at 8am #proseka tarot

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chonijabitha · 7 months

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At least, out loud. I won’t say I’m in love.

#hercules #disney #disneyedit #disneynetwork #bigfrozensix #disneyfeverdaily #disneymydear #disneydaily #userthing #adisgifs #herculesedit #animationedit #💜#tags seem to be working… better stay that way

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xoxoemynn · 3 months

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For OFMD Tumblr friends who want a S3 and are scared of Twitter

First, no judgment from me. I very much get it. I resisted Twitter for a long time, and even though I'm now a bit more comfortable on it, it's still not my Fandom Home. There are a TON of valid reasons not to be on Twitter, but if you REALLY want to keep OFMD visible right now and help its chances of returning for a third season, Twitter is the best place to do it. Like it or not, Twitter is still the best social media platform for raising awareness and for instant news updates.

Tumblr posts don't make headlines. Topics that have been trending on Twitter do. And if we want this show to come back, we need to make OFMD impossible to ignore.

By now you've probably seen just how close we came to a S3, and if you're like me, you are RAGING and donning your battle jacket. But I get it can be intimidating to get on Twitter for the first time, so I thought I'd address some common anxieties I see. I'll put below a cut because this got a bit long, but I promise it's a quick read.

I don't know what to say! Where do I even start? That's okay! You don't have to create your own tweets (although it's great if you do). Amplifying other people's posts is also important. Go ahead and like/retweet/reply to other people's posts. This may also help you get an idea of what you may like to say in your own tweets.

Hashtags...yes? Yes! Although don't use too many or you may get flagged as a bot. The biggest one that seems to be emerging is #SaveOFMD. Other popular ones are #RenewAsACrew, #RenewOurFlagMeansDeath, and of course, #OFMD and #OurFlagMeansDeath.

Should I just be tagging all the streaming services? Per @renewasacrew, no. It's counterproductive. You'll want to tag one streamer at a time and be specific. Below is an example of a tweet I made the other day -- use specific reasons why that that particular streamer may benefit from picking up OFMD.

I'm scared. People are mean. Yeah, people are mean. But I will say the vibes over at OFMD Twitter are currently the best I've ever seen them. People seem to have united for the greater good and are being overwhelmingly positive and just trying to do whatever we can to save the show. (That said, again, I already had a pretty curated feed, and was very liberal with blocking users/terms I didn't want to see, but I've been able to spend so much more time in the For You tab than I ever have without being jump scared by something.)

But I don't know anyone there! Wouldn't I just be shouting into the void? Not if you use the hashtags! Fans are being really good about following those and engaging with the tweets. Plus, [Stede voice], I'm your friend. I'm xoxoemynn over there as well, I'll follow you back and engage with any of your posts that I see. Plus, what's been REALLY lovely to see is that SO many lurkers have come out of lurkerdom to support the efforts, and they are being welcomed with open arms, so you will not be alone. Again, I am telling you, vibes? Best I've ever seen them.

I can't get sucked into another social media platform, I don't have the time. The beauty here is you don't need to spend a lot of time. I've been on Twitter more in the past week than I have in the entire year I've had an account, and I'm still only on for maybe an hour total the entire day? I open the app, I check a couple accounts, I engage with a handful of posts, and I close the app. It takes all of five minutes. It's an extremely small lift that can have a very big impact.

My bet is on Zaslav expecting us to be upset, and that there may be a day or two of outrage, but then we'd move on. I'm sure right now he's trying to convince everyone that this is a fluke, and that it'll blow over soon. Don't let him win. Keep OFMD in the news. Be loud (but polite) and make Max and other streamers take note of what a passionate, loyal fan base this show has. Make their stocks continue to drop. Make it clear this is NOT just a fluke, it is NOT business as usual. It's a BIG fuck up with lasting consequences.

Twitter, for all its sins, is the best place to do this.

Now let's get our damned show back.

#ofmd #our flag means death #renew as a crew #truly BELIEVE ME I get wanting to stay away!!#and if after we get picked up again you want to delete your account please go ahead and do that!#but this is a really easy and tangible way to show Max/other streamers #just how beloved the show is and how it would benefit them to save it #I love tumblr but it's not going to give us the kind of impact we want #it's for fans - not for external folks/key decision makers #ANYWAY I am by NO MEANS a twitter expert but I'm getting better #and I've seen some people be nervous about getting on the platform so I thought I'd try to help <3

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siphisket · 10 months

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Get Spr(ule)onkd

#I was supposed to finish this at least 5 hours ago but instead I added color (;▽;) one day i will sleep at a Normal Time #anyway hi welcome 196!! please stay omg #oughhhh god i have not stood up in like 7-8 hours i need food #siphisketches #my art #csp #get spronkd #reddit migration #r/196 #196 #spronkus kronkus #comic #artists on tumblr #id in alt #cw//#blood #violence #implied animal death #(Edit: okay alt text added in now! tried something different this time and just wrote it as a sequence of events instead of trying to #describe the visual composition of each panel lol -- it's a lot less wordy this way so hopefully it works better! Let me know what you thin #Also I fixed the boar label that I accidentally erased the first time -- should go without saying but just in case:#depiction of violence is intended for purely metaphorical purposes & I am not endorsing the use of cartoon rabbits as bear-trap guillotines

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mobius-m-mobius · 6 months

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He'll make it back.

Loki 1x05 // 2x01

#mobius #loki #lokius #mcuedit #lokiedit #marveledit #loki spoilers #owen wilson #tom hiddleston #dianagifs #owenwilsonedit #marvel #for the anon who asked about my fav parallel this is it!!#for now anyway... 👀#forever a cautious optimist lol #the way loki finally isn't running they WANT to stay they WANT to come back to the only person who's ever grounded them...#in s1 mobius has already accepted he'll probably never see loki again that they'll be on to bigger better things #and mobius always wanted that for them so he makes himself move on then loki not only appears again physically fighting to be with him #but also making clear to everyone there's mutual respect and care and trust in being able to make things better including themselves #fun fact no one in their entire lives has ever put either of them first but each other so please enjoy thinking about that for eternity 🫠#loki s2 spoilers

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jenna-louise-jamie · 1 month

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what i imagine yassen mentoring alex in season 3 will be like

#alex rider #yassen gregorovich #alex rider tv #alex rider season 3 #im literally so happy hes alive and well #AND HE BETTER STAY THAT WAY I SWEAR TO #will it parallel what he and john went through. if so. *screaming*#im so excited for april 5th im gnawing on the iron bars of my enclosure

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toads-n-moss · 1 month

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[ no dl6 au ]

long distance love, before everything gets angsty

(also pess says hello!!)

phoenix will send miles memes, no matter the time.

#ace attorney #phoenix wright #miles edgeworth #no dl 6 #narumitsu #wrightworth #service dog pess my beloved #phoenix stays up late working on art project #not that miles is any better #he stays up way too late memorizing law terms

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scuderia-hamilton · 1 month

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i immediately scroll away when people say that Yuki has “anger issues” and i know everything i need to know about them as a person

#f1 #formula 1 #yuki tsunoda #one thing about me is i’m defending Yuki with my life #some of you should keep those ‘hot takes’ to yourselves #y’all would never say that about a white driver and it speaks volumes #stay quiet it’s better that way for all of us

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hughmanbean · 3 months

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Pest Control

So if you've been looking at my posts lately you'll realize I've been fixating on Queen Danny. And I'm going to keep doing that. But let me grind up some new concepts to throw in.

You think that bugs can become ghosts? Other than singular ones like in Doctor's Disorders? Not really. They're not as obsessed or driven enough to be fully formed, and areas where they become even blobs via excess ecto would probably have a bunch of blob eaters or something balancing it out. So the singular ones in that episode would be much more rare in comparison.

And ghosts who control bugs don't count. We're talking about bugs being the ghosts.

But what about those mass insect killings? Pest control, or when a full apartment building lights on fire and there's enough ectoplasm around? You get a Hive.

Hives always prefer to work together, since even at their creation they are made up thousands or even millions of the creepy crawlies. They either form a body from tiny bodies or chose a majority that can represent it properly. So they can just meld and split without concern.

And in the bug and insect world, more often than not, the Queen is at the top. Pariah didn't count, he didn't even like the Hives. On the other limb, High Queen Phantom had created a clutch of her own.

Once she came into power, the Hives wish to fulfill her desires, as insect kingdom instincts demand and through newfound loyalty. They do so, to the detriment of everyone else.

#dpxdc #dp x dc #dp x dc prompt #I'm slowly losing my mind #Ghosts have gender set to optional #I LOVE BUGS AND INSECTS #good parents jack and maddie #redeemed vlad #Yeah not as relevant but give me my wholesome weirdos! I want them!#My ideas are pretty stagnant I know but I'll get better I swear!#hives all start out as they with no gender or identity and either stay that way or developed a sort collective identity #I just slap ideas together really #I almost made a copy of Fright Knight's adventure to find a suit or but that would've been redundant #I'm obsessed with non-human thinking and looking things interacting with humans #can you tell?#dcxdp #dc x dp #dc x dp crossover

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canisalbus · 2 months

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Currently suffering an ear infection and all I can think is how you said Vasco is prone to them. Does he get miserable and exhausted from the pain or is he more the type to get short tempered and cranky?

#I'd say a little bit of both but he tends to get more testy than dejected #because there aren't really any effective treatments for ear infections #he's gotten very careful about cleaning and maintaining his ears and trying to make sure they never stay moist for very long #and that has helped somewhat but he can't avoid them completely which frustrates him greatly #Vasco usually manages to react to adversities with prolonged and stubborn optimism #he generally takes setbacks as a challenge instead of a personal failure #but after his patience and good will finally run out he gets upset #he gets angry but usually in a constructive way and it gives him another boost of energy to attempt to fix things #Machete gets paralyzed by sadness but Vasco rarely does #he just doubles down #answered #werewolfteaparty #Vaschete lore #ear infections are terrible I hope you feel better soon

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starrylevi · 5 months

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Better Days ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

You don’t know if it’s the comedown from the meds, your period, or one of your disorders making you feel this extreme sadness but you need this feeling to go away. It’s more annoying than anything. You’re not one to compare anyone’s pain but Levi’s been through an entire war in which he lost his eye, a couple of fingers, and his ability to walk. The war in your head is nothing compared to that. So what you do is you grit your teeth and just try to ride this almost debilitating wave of misery until it’s over.

Of course you’re silly to think that Levi wouldn’t be able to tell something’s wrong. He’s lost some things but he definitely hasn’t lost his perceptiveness.

“Oi…” His tone is soft as he places a hand on your thigh, taking you out of your thoughts. You realize he’s right in front of you and he’s wearing a small frown. When did he get here?

You blink rapidly, your surroundings slowly coming into focus. “Hey.” You reply, your tone also soft but there’s an underlying tiredness in your voice and it doesn’t go unnoticed by Levi.

“You okay?” He asks you, giving you the chance to open up and be honest, his eyes looking at you with concern.

You blink a few more times, still in a bit of a daze. “Yeah, I’m just-“

“Don’t do that.” He cuts you off gently. You know what those words mean. You know better than to lie to me. And you do know better. But you also don’t want to burden him.

You give him a tired smile and continue. “Really, Levi-“

“C’mere.” He cuts you off again with a pat to his thigh, beckoning you to sit on him.

“Your legs, Levi.” You remind him, worried your weight on him will put too much pressure on the lower half of his body.

“I don’t care.” He sighs before he grabs you by the waist, surprising you with his upper body strength despite you knowing that he continues to keep himself in shape, especially when it comes to his arms and core. He places you onto his lap and positions you so that you’re sitting bridal style on him in his wheelchair.

“Levi…” You whine, although you let out a slight chuckle as your arms find their home around his neck.

“Mm?” He looks down at you, his eyebrows raised as his arms encircle you.

You roll your eyes playfully as he feigns stupidity.

He gives you a small smirk before his expression softens, concern still present in his eyes. “Seriously, what is it?” He asks, his voice barely above a whisper as he presses his forehead against yours.

You sigh yourself before your shoulders raise in a defeated shrug as you look back up at him. “I don’t know…I’m just sad.” You give him a glum smile.

And there’s the truth. It hurts him to know you’re feeling this way and there’s no way for him to realistically help. He wishes he can reach inside you and pull all of the negative feelings out. He would swallow them himself if he could. He can deal with sadness but it’s a struggle to watch you deal with it. So for now he tries to help as best as he can through his touch, holding you tight against his chest as he places kisses on your skin. He might not know what to say but he knows how to touch you to remind you of the promise he made to you before the war, of living through better days. You are his better days. They don’t exist without you. But more importantly, you deserve better days. You deserve the laughter, the hugs, and the happy tears. Better days are coming, but they’re also here. And Levi’s willing to go through hell and back to make sure you stay for them.

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