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#for forms sake
gjdraws · 11 months
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found a new brush, saw some tkk3 gifs fell down a hole you know the drill
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starry-bi-sky · 4 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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aroaceleovaldez · 6 months
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Nico and Percy's dynamic through the series is eternally funny to me, because it's just. like.
Percy's having a constant mental struggle between his fatal flaw of loyalty with a promise he made to Bianca to protect Nico, versus his Big 3 kid desire to maim other Big 3 kids / Poseidon descendant urge to totally maim Nico specifically. He hates Nico so so much. He thinks Nico's annoying and weird at best, and creepy/sketchy when he's older. The only positive thoughts Percy has towards Nico are "He's Bianca's brother and Bianca was my friend and I owe her/He's Hazel's brother and Hazel is my friend and would kill me if I was mean to him," "He's a powerful asset and useful ally (if questionable)," and "He's kinda pathetic and I feel maybe a little bad about it." Percy has multiple occasions throughout the series where he strongly considers - and on one occasionally actually goes through with - throttling Nico.
Meanwhile, Nico is following around Percy like a lost puppy. He explicitly can never bring himself to even dislike anything about Percy no matter how hard he tries. He has a whole bit in BoO where he's mentally going "UGH he's so stupid BUT IT'S ENDEARING HOW DARE HE." He's totally smitten. He's making deals with his dad for Percy. He's making convoluted plans to help Percy stand a chance against Kronos. During the entirety of BoTL it's like he's playing tsundere - "I'm helping NOT PERCY SPECIFICALLY with this quest! Me helping Percy would be SILLY because I DEFINITELY HATE HIM." Then he proceeds to show up to Percy's birthday party to basically ask him on a weird date and spend the entire next book scrambling around trying to help him or protect him or impress him. And Percy could not give less of a shit.
Just. That dynamic is so funny to me. Percy is the founder of the Nico Protection Club in that he's the one they're all protecting Nico from and meanwhile Nico is throwing himself at Percy to the point where the literal god of gay love calls him out on it.
#pjo#percy jackson#nico di angelo#Percy shows up at CJ and squints at Nico like ''hm. why do i feel like i hate you? like i just wanna punch you in the face?''#and Nico just immediately goes ''huh no idea anyways i have to go-'' and jumps into Tartarus#but not before he gives Hazel essentially a detailed explanation of ''this is Percy i cant say much but please dont let him die <3''#and Nico's whole Tartarus trip was basically a whole ''im doing this so no one else has to''#only for Percy and Annabeth to fall in like one book later and Nico proceeds to spend the next book internally screaming about it#and then Cupid calls him out on it and the next book#Nico's just like ''at this point im hoping i keel over within the next week just so i can force this dumb crush to chill the fuck out''#Nico staring pointedly at Will: ''For my own sake i need to form another crush RIGHT NOW so i can finally get over Percy.''#''this has been so bad for my health''#Nico's crush on Percy is just too funny to me. horrible pick my guy. terrible job. love that for you. he could not be less interested.#Percy LITERALLY TRIES TO KILL NICO and ditch him in the underworld and Nico is somehow STILL like ''but i love him''#Percy basically chokes him. beats up his dad. tells him ''go get smited by your dad for me.'' and ditches him.#and Nico's opinions/crush on him DO NOT CHANGE#though also Nico's reaction to Percy beating up his dad + skeletons is SO funny. his jaw is on the floor. he's flustered about it.#he just witnessed Percy be incredibly hot and proceeded to go ''yea i'll do anything for this man. collect reinforcements of 3 gods? sure''#nico you absolute DISASTER with HORRIBLE TASTE. you can do better. raise your standards.#which tbh is funnier when you factor in sun and the star. Nico just wont stop crushing on guys who dislike him and everything he stands for
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gordonsicedcoffee · 5 months
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Leigh Whannell on Recovery (1999)
extra:
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me when I fckn GET u
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fefairys · 6 months
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i know ive basically said this already lol but a lot of ppl have been like "oh man i should reread homestuck with the commentary!" and i do want to warn yall it is an extremely mixed bag of genuine insightful stuff and good writing advice and then just like. terrible writing advice, and weird off-kilter bad-taste jokes. i've just been posting the stuff i think is good and interesting or particularly funny, but it's not all top tier commentary lmao
if ur doing a reread with book commentary get ready to be annoyed. and put on ur critical thinking helmet lol because you have to parse through so much of hussies bullshit. u have to ask urself CONSTANTLY "are they serious, or are they being satirical right now?" and i genuinely do not know the answer for some of the shit they say.
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estrellium · 7 months
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This tiktok was so incredibly aster core I had to redraw it
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zuzu-draws · 9 months
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Heian Era! Sukuna, back when he was a human Curse-Sorcerer ; If Gege won't give him to us, I will =_=
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beskarfrog · 7 months
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Okay, so we all agree that Luke having to marry Mand’alor Din for political reasons is a quality au. What if Luke accidentally gets politically engaged to some other planetary leader instead?
Let’s say that perhaps his connection to Leia automatically made him a candidate for diplomatic marriage, especially after Leia and Han get married. Maybe it was a major clause in the funding for his Jedi school, but Luke didn’t really think they’d ever actually marry him off. For the sake of the au, let’s also disregard bits of TBOBF and Mando S3. 
Luke’s been building his school on Ossus, Grogu is enjoying Jedi training, and there are a couple other students. And perhaps, Din actually becomes Mand’alor and retakes Mandalorian space. Maybe he visits the Jedi school pretty often to see his son and get away from politics.
Luke can really sympathize with having the weight of the universe and a glowing sword tossed at you with no warning. So maybe he and Din become friends after a while and maybe that friendship becomes something different. There start being blushes when someone gets pinned in a spar, falling asleep together on the couch after dinner, running around after the younglings constantly. Din visits as often as he can and has about made up his mind to just ask Luke if he would consider moving the Jedi school to Concordia so they’d at least be in the same star system most days, if not on the same planet.
That's when Luke gets an urgent holocall from Leia, informing him that he’s just been engaged to some bigwig princess as part of a treaty with a rich planet the New Republic has been courting. Luke is absolutely panicking to Din, going on about how the terms of the treaty basically forbid him from keeping his school. He’s looked at his funding agreement with the New Republic and he can’t get out of it without losing money unless he’s already married to someone.
And then Din thinks of the most beautiful solution to both of their problems. Everyone else thinks that they’re already a couple, as much as Din has denied it. Bo-Katan has been harassing him for months about spending so much time off-world to go see his little family. Mandalore could really use a trade agreement with the New Republic.
The next logical step is, of course, for Din to propose in the middle of Luke’s kitchen while his Jedi friend is struggling not to go into a dark spiral about losing his school funding. It's simple, really. They just have to get married right that moment, which would fix the school funding issue. Luke moves the school to the Mandalore system so Din can see him and the kids all the time without giving Bo-Katan a new gray streak. And Mandalore probably gets a trade agreement out of it. What’s not to like?
Luke is so stunned he accidentally pours the calming tea he was making directly onto the kitchen floor.
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luxaofhesperides · 4 months
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Human/Mer AU + Bioluminescent Siren Duke ; requested by @justwannabecat!
The human hadn’t been in his territory recently. 
He wasn’t attached or anything, but Duke had started to look forward to seeing him around. It was equal parts exciting and terrifying to be under the curious, watchful eyes of a human who could so easily be dragged down into the depths. 
He knows he shouldn’t be doing this. He shouldn’t be indulging this human’s curiosity, trying to lure him closer time after time. Holding the attention of any human is dangerous; Duke’s heard the stories plenty of time. He’s seen the damage humans can do even more. 
There’s just something different about this human, who never dives too deep, who smiles at him and leaves little gifts in the tide pools tucked away from the rest of the beach, hidden from sight. Or rather, usually hidden from sight, since this human is the only one to go there. 
It’s foolish, but Duke actually misses his human. 
It’s not the first time he’d been gone for long stretches of time, but something feels off. There’s worry curling up at the base of his throat, making him swim to the surface more frequently. Steph had given him a look when she caught him, but didn’t say a word. She shouldn’t, really, when she’s been sneaking up to the surface for her own human friend, some small, dangerous human with dark hair and hands that speak more than a voice.
He’d seen her, just once, when he had gone up to splash water and his human then swim away.
Somehow, things felt easier back then. Like the horrors of the world couldn’t reach them among those tide pools. 
It’s reached them now.
Duke’s not expecting to see his human when he swims up to the surface. He’s expecting another quiet night, an empty beach, a dark sky with only the moon casting its lonely light down onto him. 
But when he swims up, his eyes go to a figure on the beach instantly. 
Even from this distance, Duke knows: that’s his human.
He doesn’t think before he’s swimming over, pushing himself faster than he’s ever gone before. It’s low tide, so he can’t get as close as he wants and can’t reach most of the tide pools at all, but it gets him close enough. Human and merfolk vocal chords are different; he can speak in water, but can’t make more than a few hums in air, and humans can’t really do anything in water at all. 
His human is sitting with his knees tucked into his chest on the beach. He’s hiding in his clothes, a hood pulled over his head, but he looks up when Duke drags himself onto the sand. 
Duke can see bruises. Dried blood. A stray tear slipping out of his eyes. 
He wants to ask what’s happened? But all that comes out is a low crooning noise. 
His human laughs, a quiet, bitter noise that makes Duke’s chest tighten uncomfortably. “Hey,” he rasps in a low voice. “Been a while, hasn’t it? I hope you’ve had a better time than I did.”
Duke can’t reach his human. The distance between them isn’t great, but it’s too much. He’s already partially out of the water, hands sinking into the wet sand just out of reach of the waves, and he can’t get any farther out. He reaches a hand out, silently pleading for his human to come closer.
The move makes his human soften, some of the hard edge of tension in his body melt away. He gets up and walks into the water, then sits down next to Duke, taking his hand. 
“I missed you,” he whispers. 
If they were underwater, Duke would be able to say I missed you too. Don’t ever go away so long again. But his human is in no shape to go underwater right now, so Duke presses his hand against his lips and hums lightly. 
They sit in silence for a moment, and Duke realizes that he’s never been this close to any human before. It doesn’t feel dangerous. It feels like relief, to finally have his human in his reach, safe from the rest of the world. 
He gives him human another moment, then reaches out and carefully pushes his hood back. His human allows it, blinking at him slowly. Without the shadow of the hood, Duke can clearly see the bruise coloring his cheekbone and the cuts going down his temple to his jaw. His split lip is still red with blood, and what little of his throat isn’t hidden by his clothes reveals more bruises wrapped around the delicate column of his neck. 
Duke ghosts his fingers over each of these injuries, hating how easily humans hurt each other. His human leans into the touch despite how it must hurt, something devastating in his expression. 
Who hurt you comes out as a questioning trill. Somehow, it gets the point across.
“It’s alright,” his human says. “Really. I’m not even that hurt. It’s just been a long few months. We never talk much, so you wouldn’t know this, but I have to fight a lot of people. Perils of being a hero, you know?”
Duke knows about heroes. More specifically, he knows about mer heroes. He’s considered being one himself, but the currents shifted and he ended up more a loner, banding with the other rejects of the city to live in the fringes and help only those who wander out too far from the marginally safer waters within. 
He hasn’t heard of any human heroes, but then again, he doesn’t know much about humans at all. Nothing beyond the stories all parents tell their children to scare them away from the surface, or the horror stories kids tell each other in the middle of the night when they want to scare each other.
He hums again to let his human know he’s listening. His human has such a nice voice. Why haven’t they done this before? 
It’s always been a push and pull between them, carefully keeping their distance but always circling back to each other. Duke would let his human swim with him, and his human would let Duke sit safely on the other side of a tide pool, tossing sea shells back and forth between each other.
They don’t even know each other’s names. 
He wishes, just for a moment, that he could go back in time and do things better. But he’s happy here with his human and he doesn’t want to lose this either.
He’ll just have to make the best of what he has. It’s how he’s always lived after his parents disappeared.
“This really isn’t that bad,” his human says, “I’ve taken worse hits before. It’s just that I couldn’t transform before the attack started, so now my human form is bruised too.”
…Human form? The more Duke hears, the more questions he has. 
Duke hums at a lower octave, placing a hand over his human’s chest. 
His human laughs lightly. “Yeah, I guess we’ve never really talked much about ourselves, did we? I’m human, don’t worry, just not all the time. I… actually, I died a few years ago. But I came back partially. So I’m also half dead still and I can transform into a ghost to fight threats. I’m a hero called Phantom. Actually, Danny Phantom since I was stupid enough to just give out my first name when I started out. In my defense, my brain was still a little fried.”
There is so much he wants to say to that. He tries, and makes a series of low hums and clicks in the back of his throat, staring at Danny (he finally got his human’s name!) incredulously.
“I promise I’m fine,” Danny continues. “It was just a bit rough. As soon as I get some time to recover, I’ll be good as new! And I really did miss you, you know. Didn’t even go home first, just come straight here.”
That’s honestly really sweet. Duke hums again, a lighter pitch, and takes hold of Danny’s wrist and tugs him towards deeper waters. 
“What? You want me to go in?”
Duke nods, already shuffling his way back out of the sand. 
He expects to look awkward during the process. What he most definitely doesn’t expect is for Danny to easily pick him up and walk them both into the ocean.
Listen. Duke is not a small mer. He’s big. He’s got a long, heavy tail and wide fins going down his back, his forearms, and the sides of his tail. It’s a struggle for him to fit into seaweed nests with his friends during the colder seasons, often left to balance on the edge with his tail hanging out. His friends struggle to pull him through the water with his weight. His parents weren’t able to hold him much after he started growing.
None of this matters to Danny, who acts as if Duke weights nothing at all. 
To his great embarrassment, his fins flare in appreciation for Danny’s strength. He was not expecting a human to be so strong, but Duke’s not about to lie to himself and say it’s not attractive. 
He trills to Danny, who laughs again, then falls into the water, taking them both under. 
Duke doesn’t hesitate. He grabs hold of Danny and swims them further out. He stays close to the surface so Danny can rise for air as needed, but he makes no move to leave Duke’s side even after a few minutes.
He glances back, concerned, when he sees that Danny is watching him with dark eyes, not breathing at all despite being conscious.
Danny holds up a finger and closes his eyes. Two rings of light appear around his waist, then split apart and pass over his body. Instantly, Danny’s body becomes lighter, as if Duke’s hand is grasping at a current on the seabed. His hair turns white and his eyes glow from how bright of a green they are, but there’s something inhuman about his features now, something that makes him look different beyond just physical features. 
Well. Danny did say he could transform.
Now that they’re underwater, Duke can finally speak. The first thing he asks is, “What was that?”
Danny grins at him. “That,” he says, speaking with ease as if he’s not underwater at all, “was my transformation. And this is my ghost form. Quite the look, isn’t it?”
“You can talk down here?! Also, hi, my name’s Duke. Since I never introduced myself.”
“Ghosts can do a lot of things,” Danny answers with a cheeky grin. “It’s nice to finally know your name. I’ve been calling you glowfish in my head this whole time.”
“Glowfish?”
“Yeah. Because you, you know,” Danny gestures vaguely at him, “Glow.”
Duke glances down at his back fins, which are indeed glowing. They flare a bit from embarrassment, which just makes the dots of light lining the fins more visible. He doesn’t glow a lot, keeping a tight hold of that ability, but sometimes it comes out anyways when he’s feeling especially happy.
And apparently, he’s always very happy around Danny. 
It’s a good thing Danny doesn’t know what that means, because if anyone of his friends found out, they’d laugh at how obvious he’s being. Drawbacks of being somewhat bioluminescent: anyone familiar with mers who have this feature know exactly what the glow means. 
“Right,” he says just a beat too late. “Well, now that we know each other’s names, can you tell me how you really feel? Those injuries didn’t look too good.”
“It’s fine, really! I take harder hits all the time.”
“That doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.”
Danny doesn’t answer for a long moment, then sighs. “Yeah. It still hurts.”
“Stay with me for tonight,” he says. “You’ll be safe. You can rest and heal and I’ll keep you safe from anything that comes looking for you.”
“You don’t have to—”
“I want to.”
Danny doesn’t put up much of a fight. He must be exhausted. “Yeah, alright. Take me away, Duke. You know, this is like those stories about sirens luring sailors down into the depths.”
“Well, I am a siren.”
“Wait, really?”
“Yeah. I take after my mom. She’s the one who taught me how to sing.”
“I guess it’s a good thing we’re friends so I don’t have to worry about being dragged down to my watery death.”
Duke snorts. “Good thing you’re already a ghost then. Not much I can do to you down here.”
He swims down, heading towards a small cavern in a sea rock that he’s claimed as his own, leading Danny into it. The light from his fins illuminates the entrance and the rocks within, a narrow passage that goes in for a few meters before opening up into a larger space full of carefully tended to seaweed and starfish decorating the walls. 
There’s a nook tucked away in the back wall where he’s set up a seaweed bed, the plant braided together into something more solid. It’s big enough to fit his tail, which means it’s big enough for him and Danny. 
“Here,” he says, helping Danny down. “Get some sleep. Then you can tell me about what happened in the morning and we’ll take it from there.”
“I’m glad you’re here Duke,” Danny whispers, curling up on his side.  He holds Duke’s hand, twining their fingers together, and it’s as nice as it is strange to feel how cold Danny is in this form when he was so warm as a human. 
“I’ll always be here for you. You just need to come back to me.”
Danny hums, but doesn’t answer. It’s alright; Duke’s used to his loved ones leaving. He knows he can’t make them stay. All he can do is hope they return one day.
It’s been a long time since he’s had anyone in his home. There’s a communal cave where his friends stay that he visits when he gets lonely, but this place used to be for his family. Now it’s just him.
Him and Danny. 
The last time there was song in these walls, his mother was still around, singing him lullabies. 
Looking down at Danny, curled up and so strangely fragile looking, Duke feels the song build up in his chest. It slips out in low, soft notes, an old melody passed down through generations of their family. 
He sings Danny to sleep.
He sings and sings and sings until all his nightmares are soothed and dawn is almost upon them. 
It’s all he can do, so Duke sings and hopes it’s enough to keep Danny close to him for just a little longer.
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oramn · 2 months
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this is a rant about mcyt tiktok (maaaybe twt but i don’t go there)
i hate seeing shit about shelby’s abuse and people calling it the “wilbur and shelby situation” and then other people saying “it’s not the wilbur and shelby situation it’s the shelby situation with wilbur allegations” like babes you are so fucking close. YOU SRE RIGHT THERE
It’s not the wilbur allegations, wilbur wasn’t mentioned or involved whatsoever! Let shelby heal and move on. it’s shubbles situation, nothing more, nothing less. sure there’s things that line up , but that doesn’t fucking matter unless wilbur comes out and admits it, or shelby actively says it was wilbur.
innocent until proven guilty and believe all victims are two things that can coexist and there is little to no nuance on tiktok where conversations like the ones described above are being had.
i also saw someone on here say something along the lines of “good people can do shitty things, good people can be bad in a relationship, good people can be the bad in a relationship ” and i agree, but that is not a conversation many are willing to have, they will jump straight to conclusions and make a woman’s story of abuse about a man.
edit (2/27/24) he posted an 'apology' on twitter, I don't know how I feel about it but he did it. Wilbur abused shelby while they were in a relationship together. He is guilty of what he was speculated of. official ruling imo: fuck that guy
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#galarian slowpoke#picture this. this was the first pokémon revealed from the new DLCs for pokémon sword and shield. the pokémon company#up until this point‚ has never done DLC for a pokémon game before. you‚ having been jaded by shitty DLCs for other games in the past#now have a distaste for the phrase‚ and imagine this can't be good. then‚ in their teaser for the new DLC‚ they add a little event#into the game where they reveal one of the new pokémon that is going to be added in the DLC#and it is a galarian form. that is identical to the original pokémon. but with a yellow head#are you imagining it. now how fucking disappointed are you. how little faith do you have in that DLC that it's going to be as good as it wa#for the most part‚ the pokémon company has demonstrated that they do absolutely excellent DLCs. proper expansions#basically an entire other game on top of the game you already have. and they typically take up the release cycle of a full game#scarlet/violet's especially. WONDERFUL dlc. i never really properly finished the crown tundra just because i was so late to the party#because i avoided buying the dlc for so long because of this experience that i've just described to you#that by the time i bought it and played it‚ it was just because SV had been announced and i wanted more pokémon to tide me over#and i never finished it. one of these days‚ i'd like to go back and finish it‚ but i'm playing through pokémon xd gale of darkness right no#and i prefer to play. one game at a time. and i don't know when i'll ever really get back to it#or if i'll ever get back to it! 'cause without resetting my save file all the way i'll just have to Remember what it is that already happen#which i'm. notoriously bad at when it comes to coming back to games that i haven't played in a while#plus i know sv is like shitty performance or whatever but the movement in that game is so much better#it feels so much more freeing than going back to gen 8 where you can still just. run. and that's it#i know nobody likes scarlet/violet but i still. like it. performance aside. like yes the performance is terrible but i still had a great#time with it. i just praised its DLC for fuck's sake! its DLC was fuckin wonderful! it has kieran in it so it like can't be bad
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5mcsinatrenchcoat · 8 months
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Baldur's Gate is not a small city, and there's never a shortage of kids running on its streets. Fighting, stealing, making a name for themselves. Creating their own crews and sticking to them, mostly. That being said, if you grew up on the same streets, you probably crossed paths at least once. Even if you're unlikely to remember it...
When Karlach was talking about her childhood, I couldn't help but think: what are the chances that Vice, a street urchin from the same city and of approximately similar age, ever met her?
Wouldn't that be cute.
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ganondoodle · 8 months
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first rough design for the reptilian appearance of demise, mainly based on alligators and axolotl with a hint of chameleon
(skyward sword comic -destiny- concept art)
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twinstxrs · 4 months
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there’s probably something deeply wrong with me because every time i see someone react to the pok gukgak interrogation scene it’s like “oh no oh my god is riz’s dad a bad guy?” when the first time i saw that scene my only thought was “oh my god is riz’s dad HOT??”
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mazojo · 6 months
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I wonder how much of the spinoff reflects on Opera's original believes, values and world views before meeting Iruma and Sullivan
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calypsolemon · 1 year
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kind of baffled by how many ppl thought "collector returns to the stars" meant "collector went to return to their family." I doubt that the only 2 things in this universe is the planet the boiling isles is on and wherever the archivists are from, and I feel like the point was very much that the collector is leaving the planet/realm he was trapped on for ages to explore the vastness of space and meet new people. Its obviously him putting his own spin on what the archivists do, to learn from all that is out there in the universe hands-on rather than kept frozen in time behind a glass.
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