#a new world part 1

[fictionalreads]

The Flash Season 9 Episode 10 A New World Part 1

Barry

Yep definitely a time jump.

What the hell happened?

LMAO “what did I do this time?”

Detective Singh!! Wow two episodes in a row. BUT REALLY DAVID THAT HAIR?!

Joe looks stressed in the past

BARRY NO YOU CAN’T JUST WALK UP TO THEM

Oh shit!

LOL Bart

Weird thought but Barry needs running shoes, not those knockoff vans.

If he didn’t bring him there, how did they get there?

That’s not Joe, Barry!

Barry you’re the flash. How did you not dodge that?

Boy you are too big to hide behind some of those pillars

NO SINGH What happened to you!! Oh nothing happened.

Why did you pause Barry?

Where is he going now?

Chuck

Chuck you need to take lessons from Cisco in the costume design department.

Joe

I miss Joe.

This new house is nice.

Khione

Oh that was cool. How does she do that?

Miscellaneous

What the hell is this intro?

IT THAT EDDIE

I’m so confused.

Has there been a time jump?

Oh yeah!! It’s the episode about when he’s there the night his mom dies as an adult. The full circle episode.

What did past Joe pick up?

Oh. Yeah. What happened to Eddie? Why is he a doctor?

This isn’t Eddie. Who is this?

[afaimscorner]

The Flash 9x10

Wait, two actually good episodes in a row? Is this really happening? And what did they do the shit that was the first eight episodes of Season 9 for, when they could have been doing this and last week the whole time? I mean, yeah, I get it. The Crossover and the last arc are the only “Flash”-Stories that were left, but that is no excused.

Even sadder is the fact that they never resolved the actual plot of Season 9, but just skipped it by jumping ahead in time to Iris’ due date. She never got closure for her storyline, nor did Cecile (or even - ugh - Khione), we just got slapped in the face with the fact that all their problems are solved now and they are happy. Which is again just bad writing. Sorry, but the show died with Crisis or at least the end of the Mirror Verse Arc since then it has been mainly bad writing and character assassinations. And of course sexism all over the place (here essentially again: Barry getc closure on-screen for his issues, but the women got it off-screen). And even this one, as glorious as it was, has a big gaping plot hole: If Barry wants to find Tina McGee all he has to do is ask the real Harrison Wells, who was still alive at this point and close friends with her. And who also might be Timeless Wells at this point as well, so no danger for the timeline there. But I guess, we just really have to accept that both Tom and writers lost all their interest in having him play anyone else but Eobard (even though Matt’s version is so much more fun at this point, which this episode did proof again).

Anyway, I am confident they will manage to fuck up “A New World”, because they have only four episodes, have not really introduced the villain in a big way so far and with next episodes Team Flash is back in action, which means it will get worse again. But at least this arc got of to a good start.

[thevoidstaredback]

Danny smiled from his place on the clocktower roof. He'd been in Gotham for a while now, two years to the day exactly, but he'd never get tired of the view. Sure, he hated not being able to see the stars at night, but there were worse things. He did make sure to leave the city every night to see them, though.

He liked being up high. It reminded him of, not simpler times, but times when he wasn't as alone. Jazz had made her way to Harvard, Tucker was MIT, and Sam was at Pomona. Danny was nowhere.

They say after he turned fourteen, he died. It, to say the least, wasn't a pleasant or painless death, though it didn't hurt past the initial shock and revival. When he was sixteen, he realized he wasn't aging. Sure, Danny Fenton aged until he was sixteen, but Danny Phantom stopped at fourteen. Good for keeping a secret identity, but horrible for wanting to half live normally.

The day after he turned eighteen, exactly four years after he died, Danny disappeared. He left everything behind and hid out in the one place he'd always said he'd avoid. It was the one place no one would look for him. The one place where he was just another face in the crowd.

Gotham City allowed Danny the anonymity that normally came with death. Instead of just another headstone in the graveyard or a body in the harbor, though, he was just another kid on the streets in a busted hoodie and jeans. No one looked twice and no one asked questions.

In the two years he's spent on the streets of Gotham, he's learned a lot. Survival was something all humans are born with, but growing up with neglectful parents amplified that instinct. Dying and becoming an unwilling hero honed those instincts. Living in Gotham gave him a chance to learn more.

Learning the lay of the land was another thing he learned very quickly. Batman is over all of Gotham except for Crime Alley. That's Red Hood's haunt. Gotham Proper was split into blurry lines and shared between Batman and Robin, Red Robin, Orphan, and Spoiler. Nightwing is over Gotham's sister city, Bludhaven. Signal is the only day shift, so he had the most ground to cover in the least amount of time.

Of course, the Rouge's all had their own territories drawn with hard, barely flexible, lines. Black Mask was really the only one to breach those lines by trying to take Crime Alley, but Red Hood had been keeping him in check.

Learning the rules for each territory and how to interact with each person, Rouge or Vigilante, took time, but he managed. His own experiences had probably helped with that.

The next thing Danny had mapped out was where the neutral stations were. Every territory had them. They were places no one attacked because the important ones have standards. In Crime Alley, it's The Club. In Penguin's area, it's the Iceberg Lounge. Ivy marked off Robinson Park. Etcetera. The Joker is really the only major Rouge without a neutral mark on his map, but that's because he's more of an asshole than the rest. An asshole with standards, but an asshole nonetheless.

Very few of those neutral areas were available to spend the night in. Even fewer we're hiring. So, the homeless population of Gotham City stuck to the streets and back alleys.

However, there were two places Danny knew he could go where he'd be safe from scrutiny if someone looked too close at him. The Club in Crime Alley where all the working girls and boys checked in and reported any Bad Johns or Bad Janes, and The Iceberg Lounge in the richer parts of Gotham.

The clocktower was where Danny liked to spend his nights when the streets were too loud and the lights too bright and the fights too close for comfort. Oracle, who was Batman's eye in the sky and ear to the ground, worked from the clocktower, but he made sure to avoid her. It wasn't easy with what's basically super hearing that he can't turn off, but he found a spot near the very top where he could block out all Bat Business. Plausible deniability and all that.

Danny misses the stars. He misses being able to peek his head out of his bedroom window and name of each constellation he could see. He can't do that in Gotham because of the light pollution that clung to the sky like black mold. It was part of the reason he'd sworn to never go to Gotham.

There are Shades in Gotham. Shadows of people who have died but aren't quite ready to move on. He helps them as best he can, but there's so many that he sometimes feels like he's cutting off a Hydra's head. He gets to see results, though. Some days the parks are more colourful, the clouds have drifted enough to let natural sunlight through, and the graveyards are buzzing with thankful energy.

Danny forwent the thought of trying to get a job a while ago. As far as the world is concerned, Danny Fenton is missing, likely dead. Being dead, in case it wasn't well known, is a legal barrier. Sure, most jobs in Gotham didn't do background checks, but Danny didn't really want to join the Goonion. He's just fine living on the streets.

Ectoplasm is scarce compared to Amity Park, but that's to be expected. Besides, the miasma crushing the city like a weighted blanket was enough to sustain his basic abilities. Food was a bit harder to come by, but, like sleep, he could survive longer without it than a living being can. If anyone were to ever ask - though the likelihood of anyone even finding out - how he was alive, his answer was "Photosynthesis, but for ghosts."

Danny liked being just Danny. No name, no responsibilities outside of keeping himself alive.

Danny Fenton, the loser nerd who fell to the bottom of all his classes, who's obsessed with space and everything in it, who could tell you exactly how long it would take to get from Earth to Betelgeuse and back, is dead. He died the day after he turned fourteen.

Danny Phantom, the hatefully loved vigilante who appeared with the throngs of ghosts, who grew more powerful with every fight, who won more fights than he thought he could because there was no other option, is gone. He disappeared after exactly four years.

Danny just exists. He lives on the streets of Gotham City, staying away from trouble because he learned how to recognize it as soon as he could walk. He loves space and finds every opportunity he can to get out and watch the stars and moon and planets. He likes heights because being up that high reminds him of when he was living and not just surviving. Was there really a difference anymore? He hangs out in graveyards and the docks because the dead are so much more tolerable than the living.

Danny liked being just Danny because Danny doesn't have the world of Infinite Realms and Possabilities on his shoulder.

Danny likes to be able to just be for once.

Storyboard Part 2

[startrekuniverse]

STRANGE NEW WORLDS

[avnasace]

( 5.1 archon quest spoilers )

so it was really up there right on his helmet this whole time huh... big fuckin abyssal star... for like 2 years...

[rosalette-roxburgh]

Actually my biggest gripe with part 2 to far is that it renders all of the hi3 lore i knew prior useless to the current story. So what if theresa is in posession of a herrscher core. So what if klein is a 50000 year old elf made in the image of a dead insane woman’s best friend. So what if kevin kaslana’s trauma imprinted itself into his own genetic code and now all of his descendants have a predisposition to throwing themselves at death. So what if susannah and sushang are gay for each other. We’re on mars. They don’t know any of these people. No one cares

[shadowglens]

does anyone else feel like there’s little to no replayability for datv?

[wowthesewomen]

Strange New Worlds: Planets

8 - Starbase 1 (not really a planet) Part I

meetings Office

other places

Restaurant

Part II: The Domes

1 - Kiley 279 2- Persephone III and M'harit 3-Hetemt IX 4-Finibus III 5- Vulcan 6- Valeo Beta V 7- Maja

[goldkirk]

If anyone remembers all the dental work I needed done uhhhhhhh three years ago and never went back and ran away forever…I’m finally going back to a dentist on Thursday to restart the process and face my deep and utter abiding terror. And I also scheduled my COVID and flu vaccines for a couple hours later. And my psych appointment to restart meds.

I figured get it all done in one day, have my miserable immune reaction on Friday that I seem to always get with Moderna COVID shots, and then flee directly into the weekend and never be a person again except when I’m on and off crying. It’s going to be so kind to future me to get these things done and I can do it no matter how much I feel like I am constantly about to Actually Physically Die.

[nilesmoon]

this shot of sawashiro is simply breathtaking to me!!!

like. seeing him crash and burn after hearing that his son has never trusted him, realizing that the chance he took by sending a tip geomijul didn't pay off, that the "miracle" he asked for is too late (just like he is). It truly is something to watch!!

to me, this really is the scene to show how incredibly miserable this asshole is and the cherry on top is how the way he sits is the exact same pose the corpse next to him has got.

[xx-alice-in-wonderland-xx]

GIVE ME A CHARACTER;

and I’ll break their ass down:

How I feel about this character

All the people I ship romantically with this character

My non-romantic OTP for this character

My unpopular opinion about this character

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon.

I will do The last of us characters, turning red characters, trolls characters, sonic characters, inside out characters, twilight characters, victorious characters, mean girls characters, Romeo and Juliet 1996, Charlie and the chocolate factory (2005 ONLY), Heartstopper, etc!!

[todayisafridaynight]

YOU ARE SO RIGHT ABT KIRYU HONESTLY

I’ve ranted to friends before abt how Kiryu is just genuinely so stupid that it comes of as dick-ish and inconsiderate to the people around him ESPECIALLY majima like?? He absolutely knows majima would walk through hell for Kiryu and takes full advantage of that in the worst ways and I don’t even think he fully realizes that that’s what he’s doing. Like please I love kazumaji as much as the next person but really only at a very specific point in time when they were both at their least fucked up gsgdfdf (kiwami 1 obv)

All is to say I agree please put the whole rgg fandom in an intro to literature class I think they’d greatly benefit gsgdf

kiryu is one of my favorite characters BECAUSE he's just so ass backwards. like On Paper he's a good guy: left the yakuza and is trying to live a normal life, has an orphanage and takes care of kids etc etc. but then you like. ACTUALLY look into him and its so funny.. he's such a dick and he doesn't even know and i love him. he just wants to do what he thinks is right and SOMETIMES he's right but his judgement also puts other people in peril (i.e. majima and daigo)

[brighterdaysarebeforeus]

I, apparently, get some validation in the form of likes and I go all gung-ho about writing stuff.

Anyway, Part 1 on Aladdin!AU punkflower.

Miles Morales…was bored.

He was sat next to his dad, at the head of the table, because for the past three months his father had decided that Miles was old enough to start listening in on the financials of their kingdom. Miles had been excited, at first, ready to help his kingdom and start thinking of ways to present himself as someone to be taken seriously; until he actually sat through four or five meetings and realized what they usually ended up being: a group of people, sitting around a table once a week, discussing what to do with money the kingdom barely had and how to generate more money for it, and all he was supposed to do was sit down and listen. Every so often his dad would interject, throwing out this idea or that one, and the table would devolved into a debate about how it would work.

The group consisted of Jeff Morales, the king, and Miles, the prince. Wilson Fisk, the royal advisor, was sitting on the left of his father, two seats down so that he was visible to both king and prince. Miguel O’Hara, the captain of the guards, was on Miles’s right, directly across from Wilson. They had their respective seconds next to them, Olivia for Wilson and Jessica (or Jess) for Miguel. The seat next to Jess was taken up by Pavitr Prabhakar, who was representing the Prabhakar family as a whole as the son of the earl; across from him was the Watson family representative, the countess Mary Jane (or MJ). On Pavitr’s other side was Peter Benjamin Parker, who usually went by Noir and theoretically wasn’t part of the meeting per say, but was sent to watch over Pavitr due to the teen being the Prabhakar’s only child. Rounding out the last of the people in the meeting were William Baker, and Adrian Toomes, both of whom were fairly new additions to the table, according to his dad.

The meeting today was sort of dragging on, and where he sat next to his dad meant that he was just out of reach of the sun, but there was still a lot of heat coming in through the window to make him sleepy. Combined with the late night he’d had the night before and the fact that while his clothes were elegant, they were thin and very comfortable meant that Miles was kind of ready to doze off and take a nap. He was slouched as much as he could be, staring blankly at Wilson as the man droned on and on about…taxes, he thought? Or the guards training. One of the two, Wilson always seemed weirdly focused on those two things. Miles had known the man for years, he’d held his position since before Miles had been born. Outside of the meetings he was usually fairly quiet, a startling trait for someone as big as Wilson was, and was good at somehow moving money around so that his dad could continue running the kingdom the way he needed to without worrying too much. He was smart, Miles could give him that, and definitely was the kind of man that had brute strength on his side; he made Miguel look tiny in comparison, and Miguel was also a fairly big guy, so…

His dad rapped his knuckles on the arm rest, making Miles sit up straighter and blink rapidly to cover the fact that he was zoning out a bit. From a bit further down, Pavitr leaned onto his palms, covering his mouth in a way that made him look like he was deeply invested in what Wilson was saying; Miles could tell was just to hide the grin on his face from Miles getting caught out.

Miles couldn’t even glare back at him, not from his position at the head of the table, and especially not with his dad right next to him, nodding sharply at whatever Miguel started with next. Captain of the guard and all, it was definitely about the guards this time and Miles sort of wanted to slam his head into the back of his chair.

He wouldn’t mind it so much if he could actually participate; hell, Pavitr could throw in ideas and join the debates going around the table, and so could Mary Jane, and even his dad could jump in when he wanted, but Miles couldn’t say anything. The first time he offered an idea, four meetings in, the entire table save for Pavitr and his dad laughed at him and when he tried to defend his idea, his dad shut it down.

Afterwards, his dad had told him “listen, son, I know you want to help, but you need to learn what’s going on in the kingdom before you can start participating in running it.”

So here he was. Learning, though Miles thought that the meetings always ended up going round in circles without ever changing anything. Clearly nothing was working, because these meetings were held every week without fail and sometimes it felt like the same four ideas thrown around all the time: open the kingdom gates more often for travelers, raise taxes, raise rents, funnel less money into the upkeep of the kingdom. Nothing about the actual people in the kingdom, how this affects their day to day living, and at the end of the meeting nothing is decided. Wash, rinse, repeat.

Until…

“The prince is fifteen now, right? What if Miles marries?” The sound of his name jolted him into attention, and Miles’s eyes locked onto Wilson’s as the man looked him over. “We can start searching for eligible candidates, maybe have him married by this time next year.”

Wait.

“What does Miles getting married have to do with the kingdom’s financials?” Pavitr asked. His eyes were narrowed at Wilson, though he was approximately the same size as Miles so it kind of looked like a month old puppy glaring down a husky. Still, he seemed to be the only one who wasn’t seriously considering it; even Mary Jane was looking thoughtful, hands crossed in front of her mouth delicately.

“Look at it this way,” Miguel told Pavitr, whose gaze didn’t shift even though Wilson wasn’t talking anymore. “If Miles marries, especially someone from a neighboring kingdom, then we can start working towards helping the population here. New food, new traffic, money coming into the kingdom instead of out of it.”

“He’s only fifteen.” Mary Jane said musingly, drawing attention to her while she looked to the king, “Doesn’t he have to wait until he’s matured enough to make decisions like that on his own, according to the law?”

“Hey, I can make decisions like that on my own!” Miles interjected, and Pavitr shot him a look that read shut up, shut up now, stop talking. Miles gulped, especially when all the eyes turned to him. “I-I mean, like, in the right — ”

“He is too young to start looking at marriage.” His dad said, and Miles breathed a quiet sigh of relief. Nobody liked to go against the king, so if his dad thought he was too young —

“I understand that his age is an issue,” Wilson said, “but the marriage wouldn’t necessarily have to happen right away in order to be beneficial to the kingdom.” Jeff leaned forward, and Miles felt his heart sink. It was basically a sign saying ‘continue’, and that meant his father had gone from being against the idea to seriously considering it now. Wilson knew this, too; a small smirk tilted his mouth. “We can set up an arrangement with a neighboring kingdom, have a long engagement, and marry them when they’re of age. Gives them plenty of time to get to know each other, all that stuff.”

“I don’t want to get married, though!” Miles said, and he was ignored as his dad leaned back in his chair. He looked thoughtful, which spelled bad things for Miles, he could tell.

And then, sure enough, his dad ran his hand over his face, shifting his glasses just slightly, and said “let me talk it over with his mother.”

[baeshijima]

it is now officially the 25th which means...

merry christmas everyone !!! regardless of whether u celebrate or not, i hope u all have a lovely day with whoever u spend it with or with urself <33

[iristial]

rider system album keiwa sakurai (geats) | episode 1

bonus:

[kayzero]

Quark’s Dreamlike Defibrillation Drabble

You’re sleeping.

Nothing else makes sense.

“Clear.”

Yeah, why else would you feel your heartbeat so clearly? So strong that it’s a little bit painful, beating so heavily that it leaves achey little aftershocks in your chest after every pulse. Thundering and powerful, like you’ve received a shock of lightning from the king of gods himself.

But you only just learned of gods, of Zeus, of Olympus. It was a brand new story from a brand new book—not a super old book from Before, but something totally new. Something made just for you.

It was better than that one book that con artist tried to trick you with—that thing was super old and super thick, yeah, and normally you like that kinda stuff, but only ‘cause you like stories, and people have only barely started writing good stories again, just like people have only started having kids again.

The guy said that it was like a thousand stories in one book, that the book was only falling apart since it was so long and so old, and obviously it was worth a whole bunch just because it was a… it was… an ant-fall-chief…?

“Anthology?”

It was a stupid word, you just started calling it a book-book, ‘cause it was a book full of books, Grandpa said it had full stories instead of chapters!

Grandpa is dead.

…No, he isn’t…

“…”

Yeah… he just got you the best Christmas present ever, just last month. That con artist jerk wanted to sell you the book-book for half of that day’s scavenge, and it was a really really good day of scavenging too! He didn’t even do any work himself, and there wasn’t anything wrong with him either, ‘cause he had to run to catch up with you, and he wasn’t even puffing afterwards, and he had to carry that stupid book with both arms ‘cause that’s how bad it was falling apart.

He just wanted a bunch of your stuff for nothing, nothing but a stupid book that maybe you were a little bit interested in, sure, but you’re not stupid like he musta been, and you told him so and you walked away, pulling your smaller part of the haul while Grandpa pushed his heavier cart behind you.

Grandpa is dead.

It jolts you like a second thunderbolt, it must have gone from your chest up to your brain, because your lungs catch and your nose hurts and your face feels wet. It feels like you’re crying, which reinforces the idea that you’re dreaming, because you were crying on that day too, after you told that con artist off, because you really really did want that book, but you needed supplies more, and your scavenge was so big that Grandpa had to make three trips to trade it all.

You have to be dreaming because he can’t be dead like your brain is trying to tell you, because he wouldn’t leave you alone. Even when you thought you were alone and you it was safe to cry because you really wanted the book full of books, he must have still been there because he knew, and the very next month on Christmas Day he gave you your own story book.

Your book was brand new, made just for you. Every chapter was for a different group of gods from different religions that didn’t worship Brother and Radical-6, and every page had a different god, with their own description and summary and a few fun facts and a list of ‘Myths’, which were all super awesome stories that could be told verbally, so they didn’t take up space and make the book super huge so it would never fall apart.

Every night before bed, you could pick out a new Myth, like how Zeus saved the Olympians and became the King of the Gods, and Grandpa would tell you the story, and it would be the last thing you heard before you fell asleep, which was way better than just reading them.

Grandpa is dead.

The thought thunders through your head, another shock to your system, another bolt from the divide… No…? The defied? Delight? Dim light…?

“Divine...”

Divine. Dih v-eye nn. Godly, or of godlike quality. A new word that you just learned from your new book that you just got for Christmas just last week. Why would you use a new word you only just heard, or think about a king you only just read about, or feel your heart beat way too strong in the wrong part of your chest, direct center of your chest, the middle of your body, perfectly aligned to receive and deliver blood everywhere evenly, except every diagram ever says that it should be somewhere off to the left, between your lung and your ribs.

Painful heartbeat, impossibly centered, painful thoughts, impossibly overpowering.

But anything is possible in a dream.

So you let the distressing thought wash away, dream that it gets pushed down your bloodstream with every beat of your thundering heart, and watch it get smaller and smaller as it slowly disappears, along with the last of your divine tingles.

…You wonder if there are any gods of sleep.

Probably, right?

After you wake up, you’ll look in your book and ask grandpa—

Grandpa is dead.

—when the nightmare is finally gone.