#Pretentious thoughts

[dayxero]

Alright.... I gotta get this off my chest here because I've been pondering this for a while. A small fraction of a MUCH greater rant but... fucking hell am I addicted to @aychama's art. Like on a oddly surreal level. I absolutely adore the portrayal of these two together and the tension and atmosphere always gets me more giddy than a japanese school girl!

However... this comes with one major issue I personally have and know its 100% opinionated and biased. Ain't trying to hurt anyone's feelings but if anyone wants to disagree with or block me if you follow this stupid, idiotic tirade of mine, feel free. I understand and take full responsibility for what I'm about to say...

Ok here goes; aychama has done such an amazing job selling me on the fact that these two are damaged souls, seeking love, understanding and connection, that I get the feeling once The Betrayal occurs, I won't be satisfied in the slightest. It goes back to how in all honesty, I am annoyed with how the majority of the fanbase collective agrees that Narinder is a liar and is morally, evil, despite every aspect of the game subtly going out of its way to prove the opposite and its in fact just the Bishops and later, the Lamb "Player" who are the ones who are evil, and Narinder is a victim of his own hubris. This is one of the reasons why I aggravated towards aychama's portrayal of Narinder so much because he's almost 1-to-1 lined with his representation in the game. He has his own goals and mostly keeps to himself. He's searching for a way to bypass Death to grant not just himself, but everyone he knows true immortality and he hasn't told a single lie to Lambert or anyone he's spoken to.

Aychama's Narinder has yet to preform any acts worthy of being called evil and beyond the spouted opinions of those who envy the Kings, Narinder hasn't done anything wrong. In fact, he seems to be extremely lonely and focused, knowing he's walking a path many will not accept, but is choosing to do so for a reason beyond just a desire to subjugate others for personal pleasure. This lines up perfectly with the game, and especially the DLC where Shamura admits he led the Bishops to attack and bind Narinder, because he was afraid if Narinder granted mortals immortality, mortals would feel no need to rely on their Gods and thus, they would lose power and control. They feared that Narinder was going to take those who prayed to him, and eliminate their greatest fears, thus setting them free from Cosmic Law.

That doesn't sound like Narinder was ever evil to begin with and again, its why if Lambert does betray Narinder, I don't think I'll be satisfied, given how their relationship is developing. I know both are currently wearing masks to hide their true goals, disguising their intentions yet are still desperately reaching out for the other and knowing Narinder isn't, or hasn't been shown to be evil, means that despite Lamb supposedly being the protagonist and "hero", would be committing an evil act be it of corruption of power, or for the sake of their own pride and therefore, makes it hard for me to even begin to root for their success. They would be actively killing or enslaving the only person who ever treated them like a person of equal merit, who took time to see them for who they are, and didn't use their vulnerability against them, for wholly selfish reasons that wouldn't gel well with my brain.

Long-Winded, I know but it basically comes down to the idea that, unless aychama goes out of their way to make Narinder comically evil, or have Lambert corrupted so thoroughly that they become everything they hated about the Ruling Class, I can't see the betrayal actually happening. And even then, if and when it does, I get the feeling it won't hit hard because one or both would have to drift so far beyond their current characterizations that they would feel unrecognizable. Of course I can admit that I might be 100% wrong here. For all I know, aychama might pull some awesome plot twist outta their ass and just get me right in the feels or pull a bait-and-switch and go full AU with their own desired outcome or ending that they're holding onto. Either way...... this is probably my second favorite version of the NariLamb pairing because I love how raw, sensual and passionate it feels. I'm a sucker for two broken people desperately relying on each other and giving up everything to maintain that love and connection. I just hope that whatever ending they have planned, won't leave an empty feeling on the series because I'm drooling over this couple like a fat kid at a candy store and it never fails to leave me thirsty for more god damnit! lol

You guys know how it’s said that cats purr heals? Yea…

[oyabun-draws]

reupload bc i just noticed that i uploaded a version with the scar layer hidden IM SORRY POOKIES!!!

[freshfrenchtoast]

Kageyama's backstory only being revealed near the very end of the series is really interesting from a meta perspective.

For reference, his chapter is 387 out of 402. That's 96% of the way in.

To contrast, other characters like Tsukishima and Yamaguchi's backstories are shown in Chapters 87-88.

Now, we do get the explanation for his "King of the Court" title in Chapter 6, at the start of the series, but we don't see how he got to that point, or why he started playing volleyball in the first place like Tsukishima's and Yamaguchi's stories show.

It creates this situation where, despite being the deuteragonist, the character our protagonist, Hinata, is practically glued to the entire series, we barely know anything about him.

We don't even know he has a sister until that point whereas other characters' siblings like Natsu, Saeko, Akiteru, Alisa have all made appearances way before then. Even Oikawa's sister, though we don't see her, we at least know she exists because of Takeru.

He's both closed off to us (the audience) as well as the other characters in the series, and this results in them finding him rude or disliking his character in general (see: the "Kageyama is abusive" discourse that somehow keeps popping up even now).

Chapter 387 takes place in 2018 and was published in 2020 so it takes him 6 years of in-universe time and 8 years of irl time to really open up.

And the catalyst for all of this is Hinata fulfilling his promise of beating him.

You see, another thing to note is that, whenever Hinata thinks of Kageyama, he's always looking at him from behind.

His internal image of him is someone who's always up ahead, someone he needs to catch up to, meaning Hinata can only see one side of him, he cannot see all of Kageyama until he catches up and passes him.

Which he finally does here.

In this shot Hinata is finally the one who's looking back at Kageyama. At this moment, Hinata (and by extension the audience) can see him for all he is, can see how he was just a lonely boy who's been waiting for someone to meet him where he is, to keep running alongside him and not quit the race.

Someone he doesn't have to go easy on. Someone who would actually tell him to hurry up instead of slow down for a change.

His someone better.

[charlietheepicwriter7]

"Grandfather."

Ra's knew who the boy was the moment he'd snuck into the room. He'd allowed the child--more man than child now, but everyone was a child compared to him--moments to steel himself while Ra's refrained from acknowledging his presence. The boy's breath was barely audible but unsteady, and a drop of something fell to the floor.

His grandson was injured. "Danyal," he greeted and finally gazed upon him for the first time in seven years.

Danyal had grown into his father's height, yet stayed lean in regards to his musculature. His black hair had grown out of the League-regulation haircut, held back in a messy braid. He held himself as strong as he could, but kept an arm wrapped around his stomach. His shirt--standard American teenage garb, he dismissed--was spotted with blood and he could see bandages poking out from under the cloth.

With great care, Danyal knelt before the Demon Head and recited the Oath of Loyalty.

Ra's watched.

The boy's tongue, fat with English, spoke the League's variant of Arabic with the grace of a mace to the head, yet his words were clear. He took his time speaking the oath, carefully sounding out words, working hard to avoid mispronunciation. The Oath in question was the older version, from before Deathstroke's insurrection, but Danyal spoke it with a calm certainty that it would be accepted.

And without a doubt, it would be accepted.

Talia's eldest son had been born from her body instead of through science, a mistake that nearly cost her the child and damaged him upon birth. While the best doctors in the world saved his life, Danyal Al Ghul would always be weak in a fight, always prone to illness, always struggling to excel. When it became clear that the boy couldn't become the next Demon Head, Ra's sent Talia to create a replacement while arrangements were made for her first child to be taught business and science, for the betterment of the League. Danyal, very much his father's child, thrived in his intellectual pursuits while Damian grew and developed into a budding assassin.

But Danyal was more like his father than he'd ever knew. Ra's couldn't miss the signs of one of his family turning away from the League. Not the mission--Danyal had written several university level papers defending the environment by the time the boy was 10--but Ra's methods...

Ra's had a conundrum. Danyal was a dedicated conservationist; once the boy was an adult, Ra's was certain he'd take the world by storm and bring the League to new heights. But if he forced his methods onto Danyal, he could create an enemy of him, just as his father was.

Ra's gave Danyal an offer; Danyal would be allowed to leave the League and live a normal life if and only if he faked his own death in such a way that reinforced Damian's loyalty to the League of Assassins.

Danyal had been hesitant at first, but past his test with flying colors. Instigating one of the more unstable assassins into organizing a coup, cutting the insurgents off near immediately, but "dying" protecting both his younger brother and mother. It was a masterful performance. Even Talia hadn't known about the deceit.

And yet, here he was, on his knees, pledging loyalty. Danyal knew what that meant, knew what he was returning to, which morals he would be allowed to keep.

"And what do you bring with you, child of no one?" Why should the League accept the return of this child, who left once before?

Danyal met his eyes. "I bring with me, my team, who are loyal to me and me alone. I bring with me, research surrounding the Lazarus Pits, in origins and further uses for the waters." Ra's raised an eyebrow, and Danyal smirked. "I bring with me, my knowledge, nurtured within this very home and sharpened in the world outside. I bring with me, my weapons, built with my own hands. I bring with me... my body, finally healthy and whole." He brought his head down to the floor, trembling with pain. "I bring my whole self to the Demon's Head, for Him to accept or reject."

Ra's smiled. "By the shadows that guard our order and the blood that binds us, I accept this oath. From this day forward, you are an instrument of the League, a harbinger of justice, and a weapon in the hand of Ra's Al Ghul."

Danyal returned to his feet, swaying percariously. He needed immediate medical attention. Despite this, he continued, "Long live the League of Assassins. Long live Ra's Al Ghul."

And he collapsed onto the floor.

[khollow11]

Loving the capitalized ‘S’ in “self”

January 15, 1925 Journals of Anais Nin 1923-1927 [volume 3]

[brenatto-apothecary]

I am a very vocal hater of the whole "the game is just for the cast you can't criticize it ever!!" mentality, to the extent that even when it's in response to a take I think is awful, it will always bother me more than the original take. After some reflection, I've broken it down to five key reasons why it upsets me so much.

1) The obvious one is that the idea that the show is only being made for the cast is false. If they didn't intend to make a piece of entertainment, they wouldn't have posted it online. A lot of creative works are made with the creators enjoyment as the highest priority. That does not mean that's all it was made for.

2) The way these posts commonly focus on how the cast isn't obligated to do what other people want is a fundamental misunderstanding of what criticism is and why we make it. I assure you the vast majority of people do not think their complaints should be met with the cast personally kneeling before them.

3) It implies that something being made with love automatically makes disliking any element of it wrong. Which is a belief that is impossible to hold without becoming a hypocrite. There is no way in hell you have never disliked a piece that the creator(s) had fun making. I'm writing this post for my personal enjoyment. Have fun with that paradox.

4) There's this weird belief that all complaints are about specific desires that weren't met. There are actually a whole lot of posts about whether the story succeeded in doing what it intended to do, but I guess I can't expect people to read things.

5) This is my big one. Art deserves to be criticized. It's one of if not the most important way of interacting with a work. I don't believe saying actual play is uniquely exempt from critique is respectful of the medium. You are treating it as though it shouldn't be engaged with in the way we engage with all other art and is, therefore, lesser.

[nyarlathotepoid]

"I can be a creator, the creator. It has happened before, and it will happen again, many times."

— Notes on poem 16, This House of Dreams

[stars-obsession-pit]

Hello! Can do a chapter fic off this fic prompt Danny phantom x dc: https://www.tumblr.com/corkinavoid/767516270934556672/dpxdc-legal-power?source=share

This isn’t a one-to-one recreation of that dialogue but it’s based on that as a framework/premise

Batman dropped down into the room behind a pair of figures—a teenage boy and a slumped adult—letting his landing create an audible thump to alert them of his presence.

If the teen noticed, he didn’t react. Even as Bruce approached, he continued to stare impassively at the wheezing figure on the ground, an old wooden bat with flaking green paint on its side loosely held in his right hand. Bruce had already suspected who the figure would be since he arrived, but seeing the Joker so broken was still bizarre. No laughing, no schemes. He didn’t even seem to be attempting to escape his binds, just… lying there, almost as if pinned in place.

Bruce paused a step behind the teen. “I don’t know what the Joker did to you, but this isn’t the right way to go about this.”

The teen scoffed, and Bruce felt a painful lurch in his chest as he was reminded oh so strongly of his son Jason. “And what, let him go kill more people?”

“I know he deserves to face justice, but not like this. Everyone deserves a right to fair trial. No one person should be judge, jury, and executioner.”

The teen turned to look at him with glowing green eyes, and Batman felt himself freeze. He had faced gods before, yet even using that as a comparison felt like an understatement. The boy’s eyes belonged to someone far older than his teenage form implied, and they radiated power. Inevitability.

When the teen—no, the entity—spoke again, his words carried an unearthly echo. “Perhaps, but I’m not acting for just myself.” He paused, glanced down at the Joker, then asked almost conversationally, “Do you know how many people he’s killed?”

Another pause, but before Bruce could even try to answer, the entity continued, “Eight hundred and fifty-six. He’s ended the lives of eight hundred and fifty-six human souls. I can tell you about every single one, if you want. About who they were, what their dreams were before he killed them. About the pain they felt at his hands.”

He punctuated the word ‘pain’ by raising up the wooden bat in his hands and ramming its end down onto the Joker’s arm. He let out a wheeze, muffled by the gag in his mouth.

“I have a duty to my people. I am the King of the In-Between and of all the souls that pass through it—even ones whose stays were as brief as his. I am the rightful arbiter of his fate. And with that power, I sentence him to death.”

He raised the bat again, adjusting his grip so he’d hit with the side rather than the end this time, then paused and let out a chuckle. “Of course, just because it’s based on some justice doesn’t mean I can’t have a bit of fun with it too.” He swung the bat down, slamming it into the Joker’s side, then hooked it under the clown’s torso and flicked him up through the air to slam into the wall. “We all really hate this guy.”

With the entity’s attention fully turned away from him as he sauntered towards the Joker’s slumped figure, Bruce could finally unfreeze himself.

Even if the Ghost King did have the right to pass judgement on Joker, Bruce still couldn’t let torture go on like this. He wouldn’t win a direct fight, but he could hopefully at least grab the Joker and bring him over to the police. Carefully, he reached for some of the smoke bombs and batarangs on his belt and readied his grapple. He’d have to do this very, very fast.

But before he could move, another figure entered the scene. Red Hood, emerging from the shadows on the far side of the room, an unexpected bit of a pep to his step.

���Nice to see someone else who gets that that bastard needs to die. But if I may make a suggestion, how ‘bout you use a crowbar instead of that old bat? It’d be a bit more… fitting.”

[egophiliac]

Okay so I've been wanting to tell you that you're literally my favourite twst artist 😭🩷

So my question is, how do you manage to come up with these funny comics? CUZ I LOVE THEM SO MUCH

(P.s: Lovin' the art style ✨)

oh geeze, thanks! 💚💚💚 I'm really glad people enjoy my stupid sense of humor; mostly I just draw things to make myself laugh, and if it makes other people laugh too, then bonus points! usually it's just one joke or mental image that gets stuck in my head (every time I saw Fellow spin his cane, all I could think about was him go-go-gadgeting away on it...) and in my quest to justify it, it picks up other jokes and bits along the way and usually doesn't even end up as the main focus anymore. entire narrative arcs have spun out just so I could use a single bad pun in a throwaway line. this is a terrible way to explain it but I'm not sure how else to put it into words!

and sometimes it's just "weird things my sister has said that I make fun of her for"

[roots-symphony]

I am once again asking how ricken managed to get devon

[altcvnningham]

adler can’t stop holding bell’s face when he kisses them.

and not gently, either, not the caress of a flower petal, delicate and sweet- bell’s barely a rose if not for all their thorns, and he wrings a hand round their jaw like one might wrench out a weed. rid and tossed to the dirt with all the rest. with all the red. with all that makes them wrong. with everything that came before.

if he can’t muzzle his dog, who can?

he bends their head upward in the interrogation chair, thumb dug into their cheek, squeezing the blood from their mouth into a sanguine rivulet between the web of his fingers; he jerks bell’s face toward the evidence board when their empty eyes fix on him a moment too long, enough to unsettle him; he stamps their chin under a hard thumb when he turns them to the light, soft pupils blown wide as he watches the sweet drug take hold; he digs his fingers into their jaw when they bark too loud at their duly master, shaking sense into his dumb mutt’s whistling hole of a head.

when he deigns to let them go, he makes a point to tear his hand away, sharp and spiteful, so even with the sting they still manage to find suffering in the loss. to yearn for the hand they bit back.

so the rest comes violent, too. the rest comes hungry. the rest comes when he wants it, and he wants bell, with such a blind fervour it drives him mad. where better men might leave, kick their losses to the curb and go elsewhere to get their fill, adler digs his heels deeper in the mud, the dirt where he buries all that red he carved out of them. if it’s tenderness he wants, he can take it for himself, and leave them with the hurt. it isn’t stooping to their level if he’s the one with the leash.

he kisses bell like he’s eating them from the inside. one hand squeezed tight around their flushed face, mouth forced open into an o-shaped pucker. he nicks their lip as smirking proof of his callousness, snags it on his sharpest canine. a peck that mocks affection. licks his way inside their mouth like it’s a threat, a proclamation. you let me do this to you. you let me in, bell. let me in, let me in. such a good dog when they do, loll their tongue out pathetic and starving. he drives his thumb inside, hot, wet, forces their mouth open by the hinge of their stiffened jaw- the last laughable vestiges of their reluctance, crumbling into dust fine enough to sift like sand between his fingers. guess science still has its limits, but so do you.

when he’s worked bell’s mouth nice and wide, he flattens their tongue with a thick finger, face clamped between the rest, and while they’re just about learning to make peace with it all- the humiliation, the degradation, submission made sanctification through the eager expectation of praise- he spits inside, and makes them swallow.

[sthilarions]

Hmm. Having a thought. So in Mickey 17 (spoilers) the different Mickeys don’t all have the same personality. Mickey 18 is probably as strongly different as he is because of the screw-up in memory transfer, but we eventually learn that all the Mickeys have at least some subtle personality distinctions.

When Charles first finds Edwin in Hell, Edwin’s crying and huddled, yes, but he looks at Charles with hope. He’s about to go to Charles. And then he dies.

And the new Edwin acts different.

The new Edwin seems to be completely despairing - Charles tries to talk to him and reassure him and get him to leave and he says “I can’t,” and curls away from Charles, pressed against the wall waiting to die.

And yes, he had just been killed, which can affect a man, but also he’s been killed countless times before. Has probably been killed at least a dozen times today, before Charles found him the first time. Has surely even been killed thousands of times just when he’d had hope - when he got to the Exit sign or on the steps or in Limbo. So why is he acting so different from the way he did just seconds before?

Given my introductory paragraph you can probably guess that my proposal is that it’s because he’s not quite the same Edwin.

He gets remade over and over and over and bodies are easy to copy perfectly but the part that makes them people? Personalities? Souls? Maybe that’s harder.

Maybe he’s just a little different, every time. The variables of his personality shifted ever so slightly by the roll of the dice. Maybe Edwin 2,347,682 turned around and fought back. Maybe Edwin 1,785,246 kept breaking into hysterical laughter. Maybe Edwin 3,197,432 was able to run just a little faster and struggle against the souls in Lust just a little harder and made it all the way up the steps and into an attic not because there was anything different in his body but because his heart beat just a little harder. Had just a little more hope and a little more drive.

Which is all very well.

But here’s the thing:

The Edwin that Charles rescued is not that Edwin.

It’s not even the Edwin that looked at Charles with hope.

It’s the Edwin that tried to give up.

So what does Charles think, when they’re back on Earth, have been for months, and Edwin is still just a little too…fatalistic. And at this point it’s getting harder and harder to put it down to grief and fresh trauma.

Edwin’s always had a tendency to freeze and need to be pushed back into motion but it’s happening even more now and sometimes it’s like he’s not even trying to run. He’s always been absolutely determined to solve every case no matter what, had month-long spirals on the rare occasions it’s been truly impossible, but now sometimes he just concedes defeat and Charles has to be the one to push for them to find a new lead.

(And Charles had thought Edwin would wait for him on the love thing and he is waiting in the sense that Edwin isn’t pushing him at all but also Edwin seems to have just quietly accepted that Charles will never love him like that and decided not to even try. Not mentioned it again or courted him or anything, not even moved on to someone else, just pushed Charles at Crystal and resigned himself to being alone forever.)

And Charles loves every possible version of Edwin, of course. (He would probably even have loved Edwin 2,942,457, who was made after the Spider killed 2,942,456 by stabbing him through the head, and something went a bit wrong, and Edwin tries not to remember what he did, when he was that one.) Charles loves Edwin no matter what. And he’s barely different, anyway, still talks the same and moves the same and all that. Is still Edwin.

So he doesn’t mind pushing Edwin into a run a bit more often or taking responsibility for cases a bit more or being more careful when Edwin’s around dangerous artifacts or any of that. He’ll do whatever Edwin needs, always. As long as it takes. Forever, if that’s how long it is.

But sometimes he looks at Edwin when Edwin doesn’t realize he’s looking, and there’s no hope in those eyes. And a tiny, hated part of him misses the Edwin he used to know.

[broareweabouttoviberightnow]

looking through my pictures of classic cars (that I have for important reasons fuck off) n being absolutely DELIGHTED by the thought of Darry dragging the boys around in HER

[himejoshiangels]

an enlightened mans duke thomas moodboard

[disacurveball]

Just as Hannibal was to Superwholock, there is an alternate Gomens/WWDITS/OFMD for pretentious people

[welcometoteyvat]

if genshin ever releases the liyue bow that has lore of azhdaha POV (unlikely, pretty sure it's been sent to the abyss), I will pull for it

"in his sweet dream the dragon king saw again the little comrades it once followed" "—Why did he say such things? He had loved the land where he had shared fond memories with that person."

you can't just say that I'm in shambles now. his little comrades T_T. and his fond memories of morax contrasted with morax's cold eyes and retuo's heartrending agony. in other news, zhongli bow user alt when, he literally wears that archery thumb ring

anyways, this has also got me thinking about a rezhong animatic to water melody/但愿人长久, mostly because the "palace on the moon" stuff and the angst of them separating bc erosion reminds me of it. poem + annotations below

When will the moon be clear and bright? With a cup of wine in my hand, I ask the clear sky. // zhongli POV, perhaps? visiting the tree at nantianmen with a flask of rice wine, on lantern rite or on midautumn In the heavens on this night, I wonder what season it would be? // azhdaha POV, half awakened from his underground dream, thinking about (more like hazily, instinctively recalling) the past, and the adepti gathering on mt aocang. "the heavens", the adepti in the mountains and the prosperous harbor, contrasted with the dim crystal cavern he's sealed in

I'd like to ride the wind to fly home. Yet I fear the crystal and jade mansions are much too high and cold for me. // insert the line from the bow "If we ride on your back and cross these mountains, we can reach the palace on the moon, right?". btw the "crystal and jade mansions" in the poem is referring to the Moon Palace Dancing with my moonlit shadow, It does not seem like the human world. // cut to azhdaha's sealing away, zhongli's cold eyes. the warmth in his gaze is gone and he's unrecognizable, like a stranger, and all the memories of their past become warped and distorted in retuo's failing eyesight

The moon rounds the red mansion, Stoops to silk-pad doors, Shines upon the sleepless, // cut to the battle between morax/adepti and azhdaha in the chasm amidst the red cliffs. idk not much to say Bearing no grudge, Why does the moon tend to be full when people are apart? // erosion. bearing no grudge is giving zhongli sealing azhdaha away because of his duty to liyue, as part of their contract. probably insert an image of azhdaha (or the zhongli in retuo's memories) slowly being erased, bit by bit and piece by piece, as retuo's eyes close underneath nantianmen. gratuitous use of a flurry of ginkgo leaves floating in front of the viewer as screen fades to white

People experience sorrow, joy, separation and reunion, The moon may be dim or bright, round or crescent shaped, This imperfection has been going on since the beginning of time. May we all be blessed with longevity, Though thousands of miles apart, we are still able to share the beauty of the moon together. // straight angst lol. "May we all be blessed with longevity" makes me think of erosion, but also "When you reach the end of time, those people, those past and future relationships predetermined by fate… they will be waiting for you" said by kun jun/azhdaha in no mere stone. when zhongli goes to meet them, he'll be waiting too

a fic set to the song/poem would also fuck. i simply think that more retuo content is neat!!! hes literally a blind rock given vision, a rock that can sing and dream, and zhongli is retuo's tiny god with a heart of stone, a heart nonetheless. arent they so interesting can we have another azhdaha mention in game soon