#(Don't worry Di)

[lab-gr0wn-lambs]

hot garbage 👇

[gnomewithalaptop]

Rereading the Our Worlds at War tie-in again and God I miss their friendship every day

[crowpendragon]

The end of another, unknowable path. Once two flames, now one, alone. Flickering, faded by a choice.

"Ar lath ma, vhenan."

"Cruel to the end."

[chemilico]

Doodle page and food court (haha get it)

(also random song for u to enjoy)

[so-i-did-this-thing]

My cartoonishly transphobic aunt is dying and my last memory of her is of her in the back of my grandfather's hospice room - where he had just died, his body still in the bed - making up vicious rumors about myself to anyone who'd listen, while I was consoling her distraught husband and son.

This is the legacy of transphobes.

I suppose the most damning feeling I have towards this woman is this memory that has eclipsed all others. Because otherwise, I do not think of her at all, other than when my mother brings me news like this.

Nor do I think of my aunt's husband and son, anymore, as they were always too cowardly to examine their own harmful actions (much less stop them) when I popped up as the queer black sheep of the family. And yet they still needed me for emotional support.

Going no-contact with transphobic family - of which I am a firm proponent - can be hard at first, but I could only hold my head high for so long.

And now, here once again looking at my extremely small extended family dwindle even further, I feel nothing. A pity it ended up that way.

[rmbunnie]

Something kinda tasteless about the way that alongside the concerns of "Batman needs someone to rein in his aggression/edginess" (mostly a meta concern,) "Robin is a symbol of undying hope right alongside Batman, Superman, and the police system," and "now that the thought's crossed my mind I think being Robin would be pretty sweet actually," one of Tim's points for why he should be Robin at the end of A Lonely Place of Dying is "we need to show the criminals of Gotham that they can't just kill Robin and expect to get away with it!" Because. They can. That's exactly what happened.

Using that line of reasoning, Tim makes the claim that the idea of Jaybin's life as disposable and inconsequential is heinous and bad, his killing something impermissible, but instead of disproving said idea they allow it to become true and devote their energy to making sure it doesn't become widely known as such. By covering his death up, they actually are permitting his murder to go unaddressed and deeming it acceptable, even taking away the opportunity for it to be consequential to anyone outside of Bruce's inner circle by not spreading the news. As much as we say "oh Bruce was a great dad because losing Jason crushed him" and "he almost considered trying to kill the Joker one time," he in all tangible areas did not do anything about Jason's death. Setting aside the question of killing the Joker or not, it's still shown in Batman Year 3 that Bruce's reaction to Jason's death in the time til Tim showed up was to hide away everything Jason owned and carry on with business as usual, a little angrier. Bruce didn't make any changes or actually evaluate anything in a significant way after the warehouse and Jason's death didn't warrant any tangible consequence, that's evident from reading the comic. I know some may disagree, and I acknowledge the room for interpretation, but in order to discuss Tim's reason we have to concede that it is explicitly written into this specific comic as something Bruce and Tim both recognize as fact, because it serves as the foundation that this reason is built on: there is good reason for the criminals to believe there would no punishment for killing Robin based on the actions Bruce did or didn't take in response. The concern about the public realizing there are no consequences for killing Robin wouldn't be reasonable if it wasn't true, if there actually were.

While they recognize that Jason's death came to pass largely without consequence, the fact itself is less of an issue to both Bruce and Tim than letting criminals actually find out that it doesn't have consequence. They know it's unjust, the notion that Jason can be killed without repercussion (and in making an effort to minimize his murder confirm it to be true,) but their concern isn't for what actually happened to Jason or the lack of proper response. At least on the vigilante side of things, the problem is public perception and continuing to uphold an image of Batman as just and diligent while permitting him to ignore injustice against those close to him. There's no efforts taken to actually disprove the idea that killing Robin would lack impact, what Tim proposes is just making it harder to prove right.

I think the best way to word what comes across tasteless for me here (aside from the side commentary on the unstoppable might of the institution of police and how it's an exemplar of heroism) is that beyond Tim's victim-blaming of Jason during his stint as Robin, (discussed in more depth by people who can word it better than me,) in the base text of a Lonely Place of Dying, it is foundational to the initial premise of Tim as Robin that part of his motive for being Robin hinges on accepting what happened to Jason as something that cannot be allowed in their pursuit of justice or go unaddressed for reasons completely unrelated to the actual harm, and then intentionally erasing the event and the way in which it was allowed and did go unaddressed. No matter how much it's claimed in later comics that Bruce was faultless and Jason doomed himself, Tim's Robin came to be at least in part (in-universe) as a cover-up for the lack of action taken about Jason's death, and by extension as an effort to overwrite his time as Robin and an individual entirely. And thought it wasn't the way his character viewed it, Tim wasn't passively complicit in it or going along with a poor grieving man, the intentional and deliberate erasure of Jason as a murder victim and the injustice of his posthumous treatment was part of his opening pitch.

[temeyes]

had a rough day. could I possibly get a hug from someone?

-🐌

'course, bub!! doodlesoap's here to give the best huggies!!

[sysig]

Blood sugar levels (Patreon)

[azuriewillow005]

Yo guys back with more whumpy drawings

Whumpcember day 8, prompt: "No. Not like this"

This is set at the end of How to Seize a Dragon's Jewel, book 10 when my boys reunite

I also have a short drabble for it on AO3 @-@

https://archiveofourown.org/works/61253422

I'm so normal about these two heh

[kiyomitakada]

At last the warehouse is silent except for Light Yagami's wheezing breaths.

Teru stands. His nice shoes are stained with viscera. He has just killed seven people.

He has never particularly cared about victory.

"Mikami," Light gasps out. "Mikami. You did it."

There is the blood of an eighteen-year-old boy splashed on Teru's dress shoes. He's never fired a gun before. He's handled plenty as a prosecutor, of course, typically while cursing the murderers whose fingerprints littered the handles.

"You're not God," Teru says.

"What are—you talking about?" Light manages a smile. It twitches oddly on his face, like a dying butterfly. "We won."

Teru just looks at him. Looks and looks and looks.

He used to wonder what God looked like. It was an idle thought, one only entertained in the depths of night when the sleep medication hadn't quite kicked in yet. He told himself it didn't matter; God was an entity that surpassed shallow things like appearance, and Teru's job was to follow him no matter what. Teru was not like the rest of Demegawa's little cult, who followed God only for the sake of personal safety and money. Teru was righteous. But he had wondered, regardless.

He had never settled on an answer. But Light Yagami, bleeding from the shoulder, brown eyes and manic grin—

Pathetic, Teru thinks. You're pathetic.

"Listen, Mikami," and Light tries to sit up, but hisses through his teeth and props himself awkwardly with one elbow instead. "You've done well. I'll reward you. Anything you want."

"Your watch," Teru says.

"My—what?"

"Your watch."

The boy, before he had been gunned down by Teru's own hand, had thrown a match. Teru has never been the type for schemes, but he knows for certain that whether real or fake, all of the notebooks are now ash.

"No," Light says, clamping his free hand around his wrist instantly. "You can't—it's from my father."

Teru could almost laugh. How nice having a father must have been. How inconsequential.

"I don't care," he says.

It's a fitting choice for a sacred compartment. Something paternal, something time-keeping, something small. It must fit right over Light's pulse point.

"It's not enough," Light tries. "It's—it's a tiny scrap of paper. It could fit ten names at most."

Teru feels his face fall. He can write very, very small, but the idea of the paper running out is terrifying.

Still. It's better than nothing. Perhaps he'll never even write in it. Perhaps he'll keep it on a necklace or frame it on his desk. Teru can do good work without the Death Note, but he cannot go on without God.

"I don't care," he repeats, and strides towards him.

Light flinches. He tries to get up again; his arm fails him, and he starts dragging himself backwards instead. Like a worm, Teru thinks. That's all he is. A worm and a murderer.

"Don't get closer, Mikami," he says, voice cracking with the beginnings of nervous laughter. "I still have—"

Teru punches him in the nose.

Light collapses. Teru very easily slips the watch off his wrist.

The shinigami is cackling.

"You don't know how to unlock it!" Light reaches for him. Teru yanks the watch away from his grasp. The idea of being touched right now is more repulsive than the blood. "I never told anyone!"

"I saw you do it," Teru points out. Just before he'd broken out of his restraints he'd seen Light twisting at the crown of the watch to kill Nate River. Four times. A holy number? Or just habit?

"Ryuk!" Light shrieks. "Stop him!"

Oh, there it is. The appeal to a higher power. But Teru's God loves him, and Light Yagami's false idol does not.

It's almost sympathetic. Teru is not a heartless man. He knows how it feels to be screaming for help that never comes.

"I'm not going to kill you," Teru says, folding the watch carefully and slipping it into his breast pocket. Light stares at him, eyes wild. "You're just misguided."

"How dare you—"

If Teru was more inclined to humor, he might have said One day you'll see the light. As it is, he closes his eyes. A sense of beautiful, serene inner peace descends on him. It was foolish of him to put so much faith in a human voice over the phone, to be honest. Teru knows better now.

This time, he'll get it right. This time he will please the real God.

In the meantime, he might as well spread His word.

Teru rolls his sleeve down. He grabs Light's bare wrist through the fabric and, before Light can pull back: kisses his palm.

A day ago, this would have been reverence. Now it reveals itself as pity.

Light sucks in a breath, sharp, pained. Teru lets go.

"Good luck," he says, and means it.

"Mikami! Where are you g—Mikami!"

Teru does not look back. The shinigami's cackles fade into the distance.

(Teru Mikami dies of unclear multiple system failure ten days later.)

[ @deathnotetober day 18: worship ]

[cotl-flower-crown]

What are your thoughts on the idea of The Lamb being taller than Narinder? I don’t mean like making The Lamb taller,

I mean making Narinder shorter.

Not canon (yet), but I think it would be cute <3

And there's also these two (cw: swearing)

[thestarfishface]

If I was easy to kill you would've done it already

[vaguely-concerned]

walking through lucanis' mind prison. the tam lin of it all

[bleper]

A shorter one today, Time my boy prepare for trouble

tw:blood (brain really likes blood rn for some reason, Chief I blame you /positive), cussing (it's me cussing at the very end don't worry)

He grabbed at his chest, heaving air into his lungs as best he could while they flooded with blood. The large gash across Time’s front weeping crimson onto the ground startlingly quickly and painting the stones under him. His world was spinning faster than he could consider it, he wasn't aware of falling onto the sticky blood soaked stone beneath him as everything faded to black.

The soft caress of sheets against his skin and the less than gentle squeeze of bandages across his chest were the first things his mind registered when he awoke, the next being the badly hidden sniffling of a certain sailor by his side. Twisting his head to look at him was out of the question with the thick blankets tucked around him so he settled for breathing out small words of assurance to grab his attention, earning himself a swift tackle from the small hero and an immediate scolding for almost dying.

How lucky he was to have a family willing to go out of their way to save his sorry ass.

[theplantbish]

You're so welcome baby 🥰

Video description under the cut

[Video description: a short clip of a longer interview of a Finnish artist Käärijä. Käärijä is sitting on the left side of a couch, wearing a white t-shirt, black Adidas pants and yellow tinted glasses. The interviewer is sitting to his right, next to him on the couch. In the clip Käärijä says with his broken English: "Everybody fans there thank you a lot everything what you came for me". He gestures towards the camera as he speaks and presses his palms together as a sign of gratitude.

End of description]

[makorragal-312]

So, just so I'm clear...we're all in agreement that Gerrard and that bitchass councilwoman are in cahoots together, right?