You cannot convince me that diluc doesn't write poetry, or at least keeps a diary. He is so dramatic, have you heard how this man talks? He's a poet in private and it's a secret he'll (try to) keep to his grave.
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hi alan!!!
drawn a doodle of alan in a barbie poster inspired by blursbian edit, hope you enjoy!!
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I’m actually LOVING how Rick Riordan, and the other writers of the show, took his initial concept of a Percabeth rivalry fueled by that of their parents and kind of turned it on its head?
Now, instead of Annabeth being wary of Percy because he’s a son of Poseidon, he’s wary of her because she made a callous impression on him. They get off to a rocky start even before finding out who Percy’s father is, and when they finally do, Annabeth doesn’t care. Instead of them fighting because of who their parents are, they’re fighting over their own opposed worldviews.
Then, instead of them arguing over which of the gods is cooler and who was right in the story of Medusa, they realize that, just like Medusa, Annabeth is a victim of her mother and that, unlike Medusa, she is a far kinder and stronger person, unwilling to repeat the cycle of hurt. They realize that, like his father, Percy often acts without considering potential consequences and that, unlike his father, he is a far kinder and stronger person, willing to step up for someone he wronged and whom he cares about.
Instead of Percy and Annabeth’s rivalry being focused on that of their parents, it’s focused on who they are, themselves. But the path to friendship is still the same: a realization that they have each other’s backs, no matter what, because they’re not their parents after all.
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he would not fucking say that moments in fan interpretations is frustrating but at least you can ignore it. when the source itself makes him fucking say that that's when you're fucked.
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Danny is at a Ghost Hunting Convention in Gotham with his parents.
He hates his past self for thinking that going to Gotham was a good idea.
He's in a tank, full of water, with a curtain draped over it as the Joker waxes poetic about how Batman is too late and blah, blah, blah.
Danny has bigger problems than Batman's pissing contest with Joker.
His parents are on the outside of the water tank he's been stuck in for the last twenty minutes. As a Halfa, he just stopped breathing, no big deal.
But they don't know he can do that.
He needs to do something so that they don't think he's a ghost, and going intangible is out because, obviously, that would make him a ghost.
...Hadn't Clockwork said that his status as a Halfa made him...flexible? On what he looked like?
That meant shapechanging, like Amorpho.
It would be really, really hard to explain, but also, better than being mistaken for a ghost.
He squeezes his eyes shut, hopes he doesn't come out of this looking like a horrifying version of clayface, forces himself to change.
The skin on his neck ripples, his legs fuse like when he's in his ghost form, and the sensation is so strange he gasps...and he can breathe.
The curtain is still over the tank of water.
Danny is glowing.
There are freckles that are glowing a soft green that dot his arms and...tail.
He's a mermaid. Merman.
Well.
Maybe he can say it was a recessive gene?
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Do you ever write a sentence and then realize “Nah, that’s too self aware for you” and backspace a bunch of times.
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Steve tries to stay quiet while he gets ready for work, but Eddie hears him. He keeps his eyes closed and just listens- to Steve grumbling to himself when his hair doesn’t sit quite right, who starts to hum and whisper some catchy song. Eddie turns his sleepy gaze onto Steve as he shuffles around their room- watching quietly as he slips on his clothes, his shoes, a simple chain with Eddie’s ring around his neck. A warm, affectionate smile breaks across his face. Before he leaves, Steve glances at what he expects to be a sleeping Eddie, but instead, he’s met with a rasped, ‘Hey.’ Eddie sits himself up, stretches his arm across Steve’s side of the bed, and reaches, fingers wiggling. Steve crosses the room to cradle his face.
Their foreheads press, noses bump, and Steve brushes his fingers across scars and dimples.
He breathes a quiet,
‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.’
Eddie huffs a tired laugh,
‘You know I never mind.’
Because, yeah.
Every morning Steve tries to stay quiet while he gets ready for work, but Eddie always hears him.
( another one from the poll | WIP )
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