#<- ​up to interpretation really

[ikiprian]

Tim swears Phantom could’ve been a Titan. Maybe he should be, at this point. They have enough in common to justify it.

“Jeez,” Phantom groans. Abruptly, he drops the levitation and hits the roof without sound. He stretches out on his back like a cat, sore muscles straining in a way Red Robin deeply relates to. “Fighting the living sucks. At least with ghosts I can swing as hard as I need. Already dead means they get back up! But mortals? Way too squishy.”

Red Robin huffs in agreement. “Yeah,” he says. After a moment’s consideration, he lies down, too.“It’s a hundred times harder than people realize. Batman’s always going on about perfect control in training. About how to have it, you gotta be twice as skilled as the other guy. Even without your super-strength, I worry sometimes.”

“How do you do it?” Phantom asks. In a move only achievable to those without bones, or perhaps Dick Grayson, he twists himself over. Gloved hands cup his cheeks. His legs kick back and forth, like they’re gossiping at a slumber party. “I mean. You said you train, so obviously there’s the physical ‘how.’ But how do you keep your emotions nonlethal? How do you keep yourself in check, make sure you’re pulling back?”

“I mean,” says Red Robin. “Murder is illegal, so.”

Phantom sighs. “Yeah. Maybe it’s easier for you.”

… Hm. Maybe Red Robin should redo Phantom’s risk assessment.

Before he can raise too high an eyebrow (though even moving that muscle smarts, ow), Phantom elaborates.

“Ecto-based entities have trouble with their emotions,” he explains. “It’s easy to get lost in an Obsession, or a big feeling like grief. The rest of the world… it bleeds away. Helps to have another emotional anchor to keep it at bay. I use fear.”

“Fear?” Red Robin glanced over.

“Sometimes sheer stubbornness,” Phantom admits. “But a lot of it is fear.”

With a considering frown, he drops his head atop his arms. Exhaustion, regret, reluctance play out on his face. For someone the Bats know next to nothing about, Phantom’s body language is an open book.

“I saw, like, an alternate future version of myself once where I become evil and try to take over the world? So now I gotta be good to keep that from happening. The fear of that future keeps the pressure on me. Makes me focus up. Y’know?”

Tim sits up. “Seriously?”

Phantom nods. “Uh-huh. Kinda bizarre, I know—”

“What the hell,” says Tim. Three consecutive days together and a concussion must loosen his lips, because holy shit, no way. “Dude! Me too!”

“Huh? Seriously?” says Phantom.

“Yeah! I totally saw myself turn evil. Like, Batman but with guns. Guns Batman. I had to fight him and everything. He tried to kill my friends and erase my memory to make sure I couldn’t un-invent him by going back to change the past?”

“Oh my god.”

“What?”

“Oh my god, me too!”

happy wips wednesday!

[ciderjacks]

An old friend

[dextheartist]

Just bros being bros

[applestruda]

*redesigns my grian the night before the new hc season*

[somnimagus]

My page for @sheikahzine; about Impaz's duty to her village, empty of people and full of memories.

[id in alt text]

[baguantte]

i think im sleepy

[theminecraftbee]

help. iskall had to get mumbo to explain what "unhinged" means to him. because he didn't know that english word. and people keep calling him that this season,

[glossysoap]

mean johnny calling you his bitch and meaning it more literally than you think 😭

18+, afab reader, degradation duh, forced pet play, forced blowjob, name calling, noncon/dubcon. use filtered content instead of just filtered tags as it’s more reliable and catches it even in reblogs. it will catch even the mention of it in the actual post (like the way i’ve mentioned it in the content warnings above) so it doesn’t need to be in the tags.

he’s buying you a collar* and wrestling it onto your neck. he’s using it to force you on your knees, ignoring your winces and cries of pain. he’s tugging you by your collar, pulling your face down to his cock. making you rub your face against his sweaty bush. he laughs as you cringe against his cock and try to pull away, only for his hands to keep you in place. he pries your mouth open and makes you take his chubbed up cock in one go.

“ye, that’s right. be a good little bitch n’ take my cock.” he grounds out, his accent all husky and full of gravel. “use that mouth fer somethin’ useful fer once.”

that’s similar to what he’s growling as he’s pushing your head down into the mattress, grabbing your hips in a sore hold as he’s splitting you open.

“cunts so tight, makes me never wanna leave. milkin’ me dry, pup.”

you kept crying out weak protests, voice broken and thick with tears. but your cunt betrayed you, squeezing and fluttering around him relentlessly.

“ye don’t even know what ye want. yer stupid mouth is crying but yer pussies beggin’ fer me like a bitch in heat.”

[charlie-artlie]

Bonnie in the real world 💖

[hyfinart]

2am art is interesting 2 look back at in the morning 2 say the least

[quailcovens]

scrawling this scene redraw like an absolute madman

[shorthaltsjester]

Why are your children bound by rules you will not follow?

Critical Role, Campaign 3, Downfall Parts 1-3 // Commandments of The Prime Deities according to the Tal'Dorei Campaign Setting Reborn

[starry-bi-sky]

wolfpack. aka: if not friend, then why friend-shaped?

"Hey-- uh, Danny?" There's an almost imperceptible tremor in Tucker's voice.

Danny doesn't look up from what he's doing, his pencil scritching across his notebook as he tries to do another quadratic formula question. "Hm."

"What's -- uh -- what's with the dogs?"

He looks up now, and finally sees where Tucker is -- standing in the doorway of his room with an ashy look on his face and a skewed, nervous smile. He's got a white knuckle grip on the doorknob. Sam is wide-eyed behind him, and using him as a partial meat-shield.

Danny looks down to the two giant ghost wolves sprawled next to him lazily. One large green one with his head in Danny's lap, letting him use him as a prop-up for his notebook. Another equally large black one splayed against his hip, sleeping on her side with her head tilted inward to his calf.

Automatically, a grin tilts across Danny's face, and he lifts his notebook up to scratch behind the green one's ears. He opens a lazy eye, one that is bloody red with a ring of yellow around the pupil, before slipping it shut and leaning his head into Danny's touch. "This is Sirius and Procyon," he says, and reaches down to scratch Sirius' belly. "And they're not dogs, they're wolves."

"Great," Tucker says, his voice suddenly much smaller and faint, "Love that distinction."

Sirius makes a great big groan, and Danny's grin widens, his heart swelling with fondness. His hand slips away from her belly, and before he can put his notebook back down, Procyon pushes his head up his lap until his ear is against his stomach, demanding pets now too.

Sam peeks her head up from over Tucker's shoulder, "I think what Tucker's asking here is what are they doing here, Danny."

He shrugs, scratching under Procyon's chin. "They kinda just showed up. I tried sending them back to the Zone, but they keep returning." And they were weirdly intent on just following him around, which is the only reason he gave up on returning them. They weren't causing trouble, and they knew how to hide around the living. Plus, he just loves dogs. "So now I have two wolves living with me."

This, oddly enough, did not do anything to calm Sam and Tucker down. Tucker's mouth purses into a thin line, and he presses the sides of his palms to his lips in prayer. "How have your parents not found out about this?"

Danny wordlessly raises his hand, and his sleeve slides down to reveal a thin chain bracelet hooked around his wrist. He whistles sharply, and both Procyon and Sirius jerk their heads up to look at him, ears pricked up and eyes alert.

Silently, he points to his wrist and rattles it twice, and in unison both wolves stand up and pounce. Instantly, they turn into a respective, opaque black and green mist that swirls around the bracelet and forms into two, flat wolf charms.

Both wolves are posing in the stereotypical wolf howl, with little stars indented on the sides. Procyon's charm has the Canis Minor constellation engraved on it, while Sirius has the Canis Major.

Danny faces Sam and Tucker, and points at his wrist. "Like this."

[contact-guy]

the end of SIGN OF THE FOUR is so funny because Holmes, Watson, and the police retrieve an immensely valuable treasure locked in a box and Holmes is like 'my buddy wants to show the treasure to this girl he's into, that cool?' and the police just...let him do it. Completely unobserved as he takes the treasure box to Mary Morstan and forces the lock open. Then Watson comes back like 'funny story!! there was nothing in the box!' and no one questions him further. Anyway, I'm writing Gay Watson AU but can someone write Criminal Mary and Watson AU where they steal the Agra treasure and go on the run and Holmes has to catch them (and then lets them go as a wedding present)

[lucabyte]

Hmmm just gonna spit this headcanon out in text post form since A. I don't think I could exposit it well enough in image form and B. It's not actually textually/thematically substantiated and I don't like actually staking my stuff on just vibes alone*

But anyway. I'd say it's pretty evident that all the islanders forgot their names, right? King obviously. Because why the hell else would he do that, but also Siffrin No Middle Names No Last Name.

They're 'pretty sure' they've 'always' been 'Just Siffrin' 'as long as they can remember'. It's a pretty cruel twist of the knife to say that they don't even get to keep their birth name as a memento, which is why I'm saying as such.

My utterly unsubstantiated claim is I think it'd be cute to say that Sisyphus *is* the name Siffrin initially picked, assuming the myth of King Sisyphus is recontextualised as idk, just a play or something in the setting. But I like the idea of Siffrin going 'oh shit 🫵 he's just like me fr' at a tortured fictional character long before the irony kicks in.

As for how Sisyphus -> Siffrin. I think that chronic mumbler and emotional doormat Sif just did not correct people who misheard the name during their time travelling, and went through enough places with incompatible phonologies (pronounceable sounds in the language) without ever really writing it down that it just got kinda. Changed until it was unrecognisable, and Siffrin just went with it until the earlier pronunciations slipped out of their swiss-cheese brain. And they just kinda don't remember any of that.

Also, something something the horrid realisation that Siffrin also named themselves after a King. Just not as blatantly.

*(though I think there's something here about Siffrin, a guy from a belief system that seems to thoroughly disincentivise autonomy and self-motivated choice continuously having their hand forced to make changes/choices they don't want but have no choice but to... It's not solid enough to really back this up tbh, but it informs it.)

Anyway.

[aroaceleovaldez]

apparently pjotv twt was being weird about book!Percy's eyes being green because they don't think the ocean can be green (???) so consider this a sequel to my Grace siblings eye colors post and here is some visual references of green water for all your Percy inspo needs:

And for reference, the water around New York-ish where Percy is usually is somewhere around this color:

or some alternatives:

or here is a nice hazel green if you want his eyes more on the brown side, which is very common in freshwater ponds and streams:

or if you want him to have totally brown eyes - water rich in tannins will appear brown, greenish-brown, or very dark brown - this is sometimes called "blackwater" due to often appearing very dark or having low visibility: