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#and these kids need a damn

gh0stgarbage · 10 months

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Hot take, all these “Wally AU’s” aren’t AU’s and even if they were they fundamentally misunderstand the character. That is a smiling puppet that does not understand a lot of concepts and loves apples, not fuel for your agalmatophilia/plushophilia. Learn to make an oc inspired by something instead of ripping someone else’s to shreds and get some therapy or even just a single friend for your inability to touch grass, your attachment issues are showing.

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spectral-snippets-and-drabbles · 9 months

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The Babel Incident

Phantom doesn't make talk to anyone when he joins the Leauge. They may try to make small talk and learn more about their new teammate, even going as far to to invite him to the occasional gathering or socialize, but the newest member simply shows up when there is mandatory meetings, helps out on the field, and leaves as quickly as he arrived.

Keeping everyone at arms length, no matter how they much they try. They can clearly see he's lonely, but he insists they leave him be.

Clark doesn't miss (or like) the way Bruce tries to get more useful information on the newbie in roundabout like asking other Leauge members for anything. It wasn't until the usually straight faced Phantom got angry at Bruce to vanish to get away from their leader. It irked the Dark Knight to not have any useful information, even when Martian ManHunter told him no to reading his mind, but Bruce will keep trying to get something out of Phantom.

Little do they know that the reason why Phantom doesn't speak or socialize with anyone has to do with the fact that Batman uses mere conversations to formulate his contingency plans to put down his colleagues, something they don't know about yet. The Last Universe he visited had its Batman getting his plans stolen by a villian and had gotten the entirety of the Leauge killed.

#dc x dp #dp x dc #danny phantom #justice league #dp x dc crossover #dp x dc prompt #I like to think Danny purposely slit his own throat to make a good excuse as to not talk to anyone.#It's healed and he can talk just fine but the Leauge doesn't need to know that #so if they ask he just shows them and rolls his eyes #I think if the villian is successful in stealing the plans Danny is gonna use his duplicates to save them #He knows why Bruce did that but the Bat should've told them he had contingency plans just in case #Danny will be petty and tell him his contingency plans for his kids was successful in another universe to spite him #If Batman say's “you're all damn fools” Danny's going to grab him by his scruff and give him to Fright Knight

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eternallovers65 · 4 months

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Annie: doubts about Athena a little

Athena: lets a literally demigod killer inside her temple to punish her daughter

Percy: my father is a deadbeat dad who always ignored me and I care more for annabeth than him and will not ask for his help

Poseidon:

#poseidon like damn it i need this kid alive so he can prove im not the thief #i bet you my guy only did that to show off to athena saying hes the better father while she let the kids to die #i know hes in the Olympus right now messing with athena saying she sucks while he helped percy #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson disney+#pjo tv show #percy jackson #poseidon

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mukiout · 1 year

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my Lego Monkie Kid era has begun (preordered @nanalitore 's eclipse monkie plushies and i cannot wait and i drew them and and and) hi i remembered tumblr exists again bc my sister mentioned it, hi guys hi hello hi how are you

#lego monkie kid #monkie kid #fanart #shadowpeach #lmk #lmk sun wukong #lmk macaque #lmk fanart #lego monkie kid fanart #damn i really need to start using tumblr more regularly #wowmukiart #i love this series and these two mfs heart heart slash affectionate

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py-dreamer · 23 days

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YOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!

So yeah, this is kinda what I've been working on for the last like...two...three weeks? Hopefully it reaches your expectations

I haven't had a shot at angst like this in a while!

But yeah there is a pt 2 which I will elabrorate more on the art if y'all would like to hear me ramble!

This is sunburst duo! Believe me! Just gotta go to part 2 to see it

There is a fluffy end to the angst don't worry!

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ghouljams · 4 months

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I just know the cowboy au dad lore goes crazy. Like. Imagine you're bug and their little sister and you find out your dad fell out of a helicopter and had to shoot upside down. OR GHOSTS KIDS when he randomly mentions he's LEGALLY DEAD and they just look at each other like😧😧😧

The dad lore goes crazy and all of them drop it the exact way a dad should: unprompted, piecemeal, and without elaboration.

Ghost, backstage with Bibi helping her get ready for her dance recital: This is worse than when I got buried alive

Bibi, turning to him in horror as he continues watching someone fumble their pas de deax: you what?

Bug, asking Gaz for help on a history paper: What was it like when you were in the army?

Gaz, spell checking with red pen: fell outta a helo once.

Bug, visibly concerned: you what?

Gaz, sliding the corrected paper over to them: you misspelled Gorbachev.

Soap's kid helping him set up fireworks: this has to be the biggest thing that's ever been exploded.

Soap, tying wires together: Dunno, I once blew up a ballistic missile in Chicago, that was pretty big.

Moon in the background: You what?

#ghoul speaks #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #ghoul babies #Soap's kids need names damn

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renard-dartigue · 10 months

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Sonic: Do my eyes deceive me? Or is Shadow the ultimate lifeform taking his cute little friend for a walk?

Shadow: What happens between me and my associate is no business of yours, hedgehog.

----

A redrawing of this iconic image with some additional context for fun cause why not lol.

#sonic #shadow #sth #sonic the hedgehog #sonic art #sonic fanart #shadow the hedgehog #sonic adventure 2 #chao #sonic chao #idw sonic #my art #i never got to play sa2 when i was a kid :(#sonic genesis collection is ps2 was fun tho #sonadow #cause y not #pretty gay to be a hedgehog #CHAO NEED TO COME BACK TO THE GAMES DAMN IT

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pluvillion · 1 year

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Afternoon Nap.

this render i made in July makes more sense now that we've seen how Ghost and Soap interacted with each other during the campaign. this is inspired by one of @cerosin-bis (HI MA'AM I'M ALSO HERE)'s artworks of Krueger and Nikto (both COD characters). at first i wanted to feature them both but i had the idea of casting Ghost and Soap instead. looking back at it now, i don't regret that decision.

also, yes. they're very good friends. they're very good friends. no, we will not elaborate further.

#sfm #source filmmaker #call of duty #modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare #cod #mw #cod mw2 #call of duty modern warfare 2 #soap mactavish #simon riley #simon ghost riley #johnny soap mactavish #soap #ghost #i know what are #where's that damn dog when you need her #kidding aside i love them both

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biggest-gaudiest-patronuses · 1 year

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This election day, I'm thinking of my Nana.

I'm thinking of how as a young woman, she fled political violence in her native Colombia to build a new home in a more stable country. I'm thinking about how she lived a long life, but not long enough to see her home country elect its first ever progressive president (just a few months ago!).

Coincidentally, I was living in Colombia at that time (in the very city she grew up in), and I was able to witness what felt like a miracle. A very conservative country, suffering from the violent inheritance of colonization and catholic invasion and the war on drugs, against a backdrop of the dangerous global rise of the far right--this unlikely country managed to elect one of the most progressive heads of state in the world, in 2022. That's a pretty big deal.

And I'm thinking about this, this election day, because that election was won by a very thin margin. I'm thinking about how it almost didn't happen. I'm thinking about how it was only possible thanks to the highest voter turnout in 20 year. And I am thinking about the countless number of voters who chose to vote for the first time. I am thinking of the poorest and most disenfranchised citizens who showed up at the polls. I am thinking of the indigenous women who rode 12 hours on public buses to vote at the 'nearest' polling stations. I am thinking of all the money and corruption that went into preventing minority citizens from voting, and I'm thinking about how they showed up in the millions and voted anyway.

I am thinking that I would like to see a miracle like that in my own home country.

So if you're on the fence about waiting in line today to cast your vote, I hope that you will think--about the country you want to live in, the future you hope will unfold, and about all of the people it takes to make a miracle.

Because history may deem us nameless and faceless, but when we show up en masse, we are the ones who make history happen.

And yes, maybe also spare a thought for my Nana. Who was in fact a very angry and judgemental woman who supported the republican party for 50+ years, and who would be turning in her grave right now (if the family hadn't had her cremated). Think about the mean angry ghost of my Colombian grandmother, who very much wants you to not show up at the polls to support abortion and other sinful progressive values. Think about her. Do it for her. Do it for Nana.

#Do it! for her #not a shitpost #serious post #politics #ask to tag #I love you Nana but i disagree SO vehemently with almost all of your personal political and religious values #also you should have treated my mom SO MUCH BETTER when she was a kid. all of your kids really #i see you very much as a victim of religious trauma & childhood poverty #followed by the cultural isolation of being a first generation immigrant with no local hispanic community to provide support #plus the failure of late 20th century mental health care almost certainly compounded by medical sexism #recognize sympathize and am indignant on your behalf for all of those reasons and more #but that truth can also coexist alongside the truth that #hot DAMN Nana you and Papa very much failed to provide your children with an emotionally safe and stable environment in which to grow #and me and my sibs are still dealing with the generational trauma #and who knows how many of my cousins. I HAVE TWENTY-ONE COUSINS AND I DON'T TALK TO ANY OF THEM #that is too many cousins to not be in contact with any of them #(and fyi that's on *one* side of the family. on the other side are a dozen half-aunts-and-cousins I've never met #because Other Grandpa was a Certified Piece of Shit)#Anyway. ANYWAY...#apparently i really needed to overshare today. know what? no judgement. judgement free zone #i have no judgement thoughts or opinions i am finally FREE #........gosh that sounds so relaxing #ANYway #yeah. break the cycle of abuse or your descendants will grow up and critique your parenting choices on third-tier social media platforms #when people say 'they will always be remembered' at a funeral--that is a THREAT #what they actually mean is 'OH HONEYBUN YOU DONE FUCKED UP'#.........i want that in my eulogy actually

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m1d-45 · 1 year

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the scottish play

summary: some things are better left unknown.

word count: ~3.1k

-> warnings: spoilers for liyue story quest, reader dies (again). blood mention. zhongli probably cries off camera

taglist: @samarill || @thenyxsky || @valeriele3 || @atsukawolfcat || @thehoneymushroomhealer || @imyme20 || @bittersweetorpheus || @vampirecatsw || @willburzone || @some-mildly-happy-human || @yourlocaldrugdealerbutfancy || @inmyprinceerafr || @depressed-bitchy-demon || @kithewanderingme

<< first part || < masterlist >

you should have known better than to trust liyue.

a rock hits your shoulder, kicked down from the ledge behind you, and the abyss mage in front of you shouts a cry lost amidst the hilichurls’-

“YA!“

clubs are grabbed and shields are raised, the electro shooter taking your wrist roughly and pulling you away. you hear human voices behind you, calls to get them! and that’s the missing artifact! nearly drowned under your heartbeat in your ears. the electro hilichurl pushes you behind the grenadier before grabbing its crossbow, hastily beginning to load it. in the camp, you can see an archer up on the stone ledge—the same one you entered from—as well as four other millelith guards in the camp itself. an electro-infused bolt skims the cheek of one, a spear narrowly blocking the swing of a club, two have to ditch their weapons and roll to dodge to mitachurl’s charge-

the grenadier’s calloused hands pull you out of the way of an arrow, one that lands in the sand and quivers with force. the hilichurl pushes you away, waving its hands for you to run.

if you’d have paid more attention to the fight, you’d have noticed the hilichurls were fighting defensively to give you time.

you turn on worn, hole-ridden shoes, doing your best to take in air as you run down the path. this area of liyue is sparse, with no weaving pathways to hide in or trees to cover you. there’s nothing for the earth to shelter you with, and other than bringing more dust into the air around the archer, it’s just as helpless as you are.

there’s a building set besides a crack in the huge wall besides the path, a fork approaching quicker than you’d like. the path continues forward, toward trees, but it’s a long way to the small forest..

you turn. an arrow bounces off the stone just behind you as you do.

immediately you recognize your mistake, spotting first spiked walls, then rippling red banners, then the archer towers they’re attached to and the guards climbing down the ladders on them.

the crack you saw seems to open into a larger area, with trees you’ve never seen before, so you take the risk that the millelith can’t climb all that quickly with their armor and keep running. it’s not like you would have survived turning back anyways; they’re the ones with the archer towers.

a guard makes it to the ground just as you pass, throwing aside his spear and running after you. an arm loops around your waist, then another over your arms as you fall.

the weight of the guard on top of you knocks out the air from your lungs, leaving you dazed. he quickly gets off and pulls at the arm with the ring on it as you desperately try not to breathe in dirt.

you fuss, trying first to close your hand into a fist then hitting at his with your other. it works, the ring falling to the dirt, and though you try to follow it with your eyes you quickly lose it in the light of the sun.

the guard starts to wipe desperately at the dirt and you take the opportunity to run into the crack, pulling a random bundle of things you hope are medical supplies off a nearby cart as you do. the guards shout at you, but you keep running, taking a set of confusing turns before coming across a small campsite. there are tents and rudimentary walls, but you decide to shove yourself into the space between a stack of crates and a wall, holding your breath.

footsteps thunder by, slowing to a stop not too far from where you’re hidden. you clutch at and attempt to cover the white in your arms, turning it towards the wall as far as you can without moving the crates. you don’t dare move to peek between the boxes, simply sitting in your little corner and hoping beyond reason that they won’t think to search in the most obvious area.

“what?”

“where’d they go?”

“find them!”

your heart thuds in your chest and you have to fight to keep your breathing quiet, pressing yourself further against the wall as the guards search the small camp.

the floor tips and spins beneath you, the world blurry and hazed from dehydration and exhaustion, but you stay hidden as boots stomp by again, listening to the irritated words from one of the guards as they pass.

“we must report this to the qixing.”

zhongli walks through liyue harbor, one hand holding a folder and the other one clenched in a fist. he can feel the stares of people as he passes, the new whispers on their tongues, and he sets his jaw, picking up the pace.

he’s used to the stares. people pointed him out as odd, eccentric, the funeral consultant that everybody knew yet didn’t know why, or where he was from. the stranger that somehow knew alarming amounts of liyuen history, the new worker at the parlor who puts up with the director, the one with a vision from liyue yet seems adept at using it nonetheless.

stares are regular, until they’re not.

the empty space on his lower back where his faux-vision once was affects him more than it should. maybe because it feels like a real one, now, since he hasn’t been able to manipulate geo ever since it turned against him. the lack of pressure, the missing weight of glass and gold, no matter how papery the front it put up, bothered him. it wasn’t real in any sense, it was utterly worthless, it didn’t glow or have any connection at all, and yet.. it still refused to obey him. touching it felt like he was cutting his palm open over and over despite the lack of physical injuries, and when he tried to have hu tao reattach it to (a new) chain, it only stabbed at him through his clothes.

it was fake. it shouldn’t be possible.

but he couldn’t tell anybody of his plight.

nodding a greeting at the blacksmith, he continued his journey across the harbor.

“-consultant for-?”

“-where’s his-?“

“-did his vision-?”

questions flew in the space between people, gossip lighting the way between lampposts. he knew they were watching. he didn’t know why it unnerved him so much.

zhongli kept walking.

two millelith guards are standing duty near the bridge, and he listens in on their conversation as he passes.

“-hear any updates on the situation?”

“no, only that they’ve gotten to the chasm. it’s to dangerous for the qixing to send-..”

hm..

he files the information away.

zhongli openes the door to the parlor, nodding in greeting at ferrylady. perhaps he should pay the chasm a visit on the chance that the guards were speaking of what he hoped they were.

you wouldn’t be too much of a challenge—he is still, after all, morax, the god of war and contracts. he’d signed on the dotted line when he took his first breath, signed to be the warrior of his god and to stand by their side for as long as he lived. it was a deal he could easily uphold, and one he’s not going to fail.

he’s served his god all his life, and he refuses to allow such disgrace to befall their name.

perhaps if he’s lucky, he’ll be the one allowed to slay you…

he shakes the thoughts of bloodshed from his mind, knocking twice on a door marked ‘director’. when he hears permission to enter, he wastes no time in pushing it open.

hu tao’s eyes brighten when she see’s it’s him, the pen in her hand twirling around her fingers in her excitement. “zhongli! you’re back quickly.”

he nods, stepping forward to hand her the folder. “the negotiations went easier than anticipated.”

her eyes suddenly narrow, hee hand retracting from the folder. “did you say what i told you to?”

“yes, director, i kept the price within the range you specified. i was simply commenting on the simplicity of the transaction; who knew it was so easy to-“

the air shifts, a presence materializing from a cloud of black and teal smoke at zhongli’s side. hu tao yelps, her chair skidding backward.

xiao catches the pen she throws at him with ease.

zhongli pulls it from his hand, the director having finally registered what happened.

“wha- who- you? y- you can’t just appear in my office like that!”

xiao paid her no mind, turning to zhongli and bowing, the latter easily dismissing the action.

“what news do you have?”

“i have scoured all of liyue and have yet to find a trace. in addition, b-… venti has not felt their presence upon the wind, and considering the tightening of security around the harbor thanks to the millelith, i can only assume they have either gone to sumeru through nantianmen or lumberpick valley, or they are in the chasm.”

the words of the millelith from earlier echoed in zhongli’s mind, a plan swiftly forming.

“i see. thank you, xiao. i will leave at once.”

with a nod, the adeptus vanishes back into a cloud of smoke.

“zhongli? who was that? and where are you going? who were you talking about?”

zhongli set the folder on her desk, the pen placed on top. “all in due time, ms. hu. until then, i’m afraid i must depart.”

“you can’t-“

“i promise that appropriate compensation for my leaving early will be arranged, and we may speak on the topic when i return.”

“‘li-“

“goodbye, director.”

black and gold fabric twisted around him as he turned, the empty chain across his back glinting in the light of the office. while he had some regret about leaving so harshly—he’d surely receive a rant about reliance when he returned—it was quickly drowned under his determination.

his god was calling, and all he’d ever wished for was to answer.

you stumble into a tunnel next to a blue waypoint, walking in as far as you can manage before crumbling to the floor. you have to go. to hide. you don’t know how many ‘lives’ you have left, and you’re not keen on finding out, not with the qixing on your tail.

you drag yourself next to a shining chunk of cor lapis, gritting your teeth at the pain.

how did it come to this?

to running from the millelith, hiding in the chasm of all places?

you breathe heavily as you sit against the wall, the sudden shift from relaxation to running for your life taking a toll. you put your hands on the floor to shuffle further against the wall only to wince, moving your palm to see what sharp rock you’d landed on.

except it wasn’t a rock. the ring, the one the dendro slime gave you, is sitting peacefully on top of the dirt like it belongs there. still clean, still shining, the gem without a scratch you can see as you lift it up. the tunnel is only lit by sun streaming in from around the corner, and though it makes it hard to see imperfections on the gold, the light only highlights the wear on your figure. your clothes are tattered and worn, reduced to scraps, that ring the only thing of passable quality. how ironic, that the thing in best condition was the one you never should have taken—where would hilichurls even get them? did you think about it at all?—and the one that almost got you killed.

again.

you couldn’t hold it against the millelith, really. you didn’t know where it came from or why. it didn’t look ancient to you, the gold still glimmering in the faint light, and the gem wasn’t large enough to be of any importance, but maybe it was. maybe it was some artifact that was really rare or highly sought after. maybe it was the dropped ring of some important ruler. maybe it was the wedding band of one of the workers here.

maybe you were just making excuses because you couldn’t find it in yourself to hate them.

..wow, this is kinda pathetic.

you do your best to wrap your wounds with the bandages you swiped, mumbling a quick thank you that they were bandages, no matter how covered in dust from your journey. between your shaky hands and the severity of the wounds, though, you don’t know if you’re actually doing anything of benefit. not to mention you’re still lying on the floor, in a dusty tunnel in the chasm.

dirt and rocks dig into your skin and wounds, scabs breaking as you curl up further, too caught up in your pain to hear the footsteps approaching you.

or maybe you do hear them, and simply don’t care.

you never had the highest level of self-preservation.

zhongli has lived for eons.

he’s seen it all.

nothing surprises him anymore.

….nothing should.

but as he approaches the tunnel the millelith had told him of, as he walks and hears hitched breathing and choked words….

his knuckles are white around his polearm.

he turns the corner, stepping around a wooden support. dust stains the air as if trying to hide you from his view, but can still see. torn clothes, your hands wrapped in dirty bandages that are more likely to get them infected than protect, and you’re… you’re crying.

as he watches, you look up, matted hair falling into your face. you’re sitting next to a chunk of cor lapis, the ore looking like it’s glowing brighter than normal. in the golden light, he sees the tear tracks streak through the dirt on your face, and something like pity twinges in his chest.

something like a laugh leaves your cracked lips.

“morax…”

you knew?

you knew him?

how?

his posture tensed, but you only sat up straighter, leaning on the wall behind you. it was hard to tell if that was blood on the floor or just shadows cast by the ore nearby, but you were obviously weak.

you licked your lips. why hadn’t he moved yet?

“i don’t mind dying, you know. not if it’s you.”

you sounded weak, voice hoarse and painful, like your throat was lined with glass.

and yet… him?

why?

how did you even know him?

surely… surely you weren’t the same person as before, in wuwang hill, right? you weren’t the one who looked up at him with eyes that glittered not with tears but with admiration, your gaze sweeping over his face with such emotion. you weren’t the one that, even as he pointed his spear at your heart, dared to whisper a compliment?

…what did it matter? you… you deserved to be slain. he couldn’t be swayed simply because you looked like his god.

his hand almost didn’t want to obey as he leveled his polearm at your neck, noting the exhaustion with which you relaxed further into the stone. your eyes fluttered shut, your hand landing closer to the light of the ore. he could see a ring on one of your fingers: gold, archaic, likely stolen from a ruin nearby. how pitiful that an artifact would be ruined by you.

the golden point of his blade leveled against your skin, seeming to buzz with excitement in his hand.

he should make it quick.

in his hesitance, you spoke. “you want last words?”

to ask somebody on death row for the worst of crimes for last words would probably be itself a crime elsewhere. giving you the opportunity to take advantage of him while he was vulnerable—though he doubted you had the strength for that…

a small smile crossed your face.

he swallowed. his hand wavered.

“if you wish.”

why did you seem so familiar?

he was starting to shake.

it didn’t matter that you looked like his god. you were the imposter, you were the fake, but being here with you…

why was he hesitating?

this was a sin against his god, to allow such a devil to walk his nation. and to dare to feel sympathy for such a-

“i don’t mind if i die.”

but your voice-

you spoke so softly with his weapon pointed at your throat, every bob of your skin threatening to tear itself across its edge. and yet, you continued, leaving him no choice but to believe your statement.

“i don’t know why you want to kill me, but i don’t. really.”

in the golden light of the lapis and whatever extra was coming around the corner, your skin broke.

what were you saying?

why couldn’t he listen?

he was entranced by the bead of blood, almost shimmering in the light, rolling down your neck.

he had to kill you.

he had to.

why didn’t he want to?

“it’s a good day to die.”

that was a lie, the skies were gray and threatened rain, the earth itself irritated and rumbling with an anger you couldn’t sense. the only reason you said that was because you didn’t know.

he found himself believing it anyway.

“kill me, morax.” the way you said his name- “i’m… i’m sure your god would be proud.”

what did you know of his god?

in the instant anger overcame him, he pressed vortex vanquisher forward, pushing until he hit stone. you flinched, blood rolling down his weapon and falling into your lap in waves. to his surprise, it didn’t stain the blade dark with crimson, instead…

no.

he told himself it was the light.

no.

your eyes fluttered, struggling, and he compared the shade of the ring on your finger to the one on his weapon. even in the tinted lighting, they looked the same.

no.

it was impossible.

even as he tore his weapon away, a futile attempt to undo his actions, he knew it was impossible.

“kill me, morax.”

and he had, he had, and now he wanted nothing more than to take it back, dirt staining his knees as gloved hands fluttered over the wound as if it would magically stick back together.

“i’m sure your god would be proud.”