#and i love them with my entire life
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ionomycin · 1 month ago
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phoenix and the priestess
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ruporas · 6 months ago
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need to exist in your warmth (id in alt)
#vashwood#vash the stampede#nicholas d wolfwood#trigun#trigun maximum#blood tw#ruporas art#love u when i get to cuddle u and love u when i get to feel ur blood soak into my hands#being this close to one another means the eternal suffering of trying to separate love and mission. love for one and love for humanity#i like to think of pre-vol8 vash as someone who struggles with his feelings for ww bc as equal and as trusted he is -#vash knows his responsibilities and he knows/expects ww wouldn't let him stray from it either. for that he can't take to any romantic incli#and i think itd make him view ww in a stricter non-personal way... If that makes ANY sense.#for ww - take someone who youv gotten close to and ended up liking more than you expected#someone who has a belief and follows it stubbornly - someone who'll get into more fights and trouble more than youv had your entire life#ww thinks of him as a monster but he knows theres a limit he himself can take - i feel like hes considered what might be the limit for vash#for Safety measures. just in case. yknow. whenever he himself might have to load the bullet < him hyping himself up as if he could do it#my point being that the thought of vash being dead crosses his mind more than he'd like. i think its a simultaneous dread drop in his stoma#for failure of the mission - but also an Ok? They can be killed? and also a disastrous gunning of his own heart. considering how much they#both live in their own heads some days are Just the worst ever for them in each others company. but also they lov each other :[ sooo much
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bumblebee-be · 5 months ago
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so many people are realizing deadpool and wolverine aren’t just gay in a “haha gay!” way but in a gay way (deadpool is canonically pan and 1000% wants to fuck wolverine) and in this moment i just need to remind everyone that while poolverine has a good amount of homoeroticism going on, there is genuinely, truly, not a single plausible heterosexual explanation for whatever the fuck these two have had going on for like. half a century.
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clarionglass · 7 months ago
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here we go :) part one of three, updates to be released weekly!
---
sam says 4 (game master cinematic universe, part 3)
Ruby was at her mum's for a family dinner she couldn't miss on pain of death, apparently, and the Doctor was many things, but a family dinner kind of guy wasn't one of them—particularly when Carla had already slapped him once in the short time he'd known her. He thought he'd broken his streak of bad luck with mums, but… well, seemingly not. So he was companionless for a few hours, and while he could wait for her to get back, maybe catch up on his reading—what was the point of waiting when you had a time machine? 
He ran his hands over the TARDIS console, marvelling at her clean lines and metallic flourishes, the way that even now she felt brand new but familiar, and paused. He’d just pop off for a quick adventure, nothing too dangerous, but—where to go?
He could scan for a distress call nearby, and pitch in to help. He could drop in on Donna and Shaun and Rose, beautiful Rose, and see how they were all doing. Or he could just hit the randomiser button, and jump in feet first wherever he ended up.
He remembered a conversation from a long time ago, when he wore a different face, and his gorgeous TARDIS wore a face too, for the first and only time.
“You didn't always take me where I wanted to go.”
“No, but I always took you where you needed to go.”
He grinned. Who could resist an offer like that? He pressed the button and whooped as the time rotor spun into action, ready to see where the universe would take him.
---
Apparently, he was needed pretty close to where he already was. Earth, 2024. Huh. Same planet, same time—within a few months of where he’d left Ruby, even. The main thing that had changed was the location: he was now in the good old US of A. California, to be more specific, and Los Angeles to be more specific still. And to really narrow it down, the Doctor discovered as he poked his head out of the TARDIS doors, he was in… a broom closet. Not bad, as a parking spot—a bit squeezy, but out of the way. And as he poked his head out of that door, he could finally see he was in the backstage corridors of a studio of some kind. Film or TV, if he was to hazard a guess, it was a different vibe from Abbey Road.
With a shrug, he decided to go exploring.
It couldn’t have been more than a minute before a young woman wearing the full-black outfit, headset, and permanently stressed expression of a production assistant came running up to him.
“Are you the fill-in Sam organised?” she asked breathlessly, and honestly, seeing the look on her face, the Doctor didn’t have the heart(s) to tell her no. And really, what was the Doctor, if not a professional fill-in? This, this was why he had a randomiser button on the control panel, because whatever he was about to get himself into was going to be fun.
“Sure!”
“Oh, thank god,” sighed the production assistant, relief dawning across her face. “When Ally tested positive this morning, I thought we were sunk for the record, because we called around and we couldn’t get a hold of anyone. But then Sam said he could get someone in, and, you know, here you are, and just in time, so—ah, yeah, if you could follow me this way?”
Smiling all the way, the Doctor followed his guide through to hair and makeup, looking around as they went. The studio seemed to belong to a company called Dropout, according to the branding scattered around, and things seemed, at least on the surface, to be… well. Fine. He couldn't tell why he'd been brought here yet, which meant that when he found the reason, it was going to be particularly tangled. He couldn't wait! 
And then he looked back at his guide, still engulfed in a miasma of anxiety, and realised he'd been too busy looking for clues to notice the person right in front of him. 
“Hey, it's cool, you've found me,” he started with a gentle smile. “You can relax. Hi, I'm the Doctor. What's your name?”
“Oh!” she said, startled. “The Doctor, yeah, of course. Um, hi, I'm Kaylin. Look, sorry, it's just that I've been so busy this morning, I'm so distracted… Shit, and I would've completely forgotten to get your details too. There's paperwork to fill in, but you can do that later. Um, just for now, though, can I get your pronouns?”
The Doctor thought for a moment. “He/him, for now.”
Kaylin nodded, making a note on her phone. “Okay, cool! And do you have any socials?”
“Not me, babes,” he replied. “I'm hardly sitting down long enough to be able to update, you know?”
“On a day like this, I know exactly what you mean,” she said. “That's okay, Lou didn't have socials either for the longest time. Right, so if you go through there, the team will get you sorted, and once you're done, someone will take you up to the greenroom. All good?”
“All great,” the Doctor replied. Kaylin flashed him a quick, relieved smile, then hurried off.
Hair and makeup was a fairly quick process, the sound mixer fitted him with a microphone, and before too long, Kaylin was back to take him upstairs. 
“This is the greenroom,” she said, pushing the door open. “The rest of the cast for the episode are already here—they’re great guys, and they’ve both been on the show a lot, so they’ll be able to help if you’ve got questions. And if you need anything else, just come find me or any of the other PAs, okay?”
The Doctor nodded, beamed at Kaylin, and walked in.
---
The greenroom was small but comfortable, and its occupants, two men around the same age as the Doctor appeared, looked up as he entered.
“Oh, you’re new,” the taller of the pair said, clearly giving him the once-over.
The other sighed with a mixture of fondness and exasperation, just as clearly used to his friend’s antics.
“Hey, I’m Brennan,” he said, levering himself up to standing from his perch on a chair arm, and holding out a hand. “That’s Grant.”
The Doctor took it warmly. “The Doctor. Just passing through, and happy to help.”
Grant’s eyebrows quirked. “Doctor… something?” he prompted.
“Or is it just ‘the Doctor’?” Brennan asked.
“Just ‘the Doctor’,” the Time Lord confirmed cheerfully. “You’ll get used to it, everyone does.”
Grant didn’t look convinced, but—
“Copy that,” Brennan shrugged, and settled back on the arm of the chair, returning his gaze to the door.
Grant, in turn, looked at the Doctor and rolled his eyes in a clear expression of ‘no, I don’t know why he’s like this, either’.
“Okay,” the Doctor said after a moment of watching the watching. “I wasn’t going to ask, but now I think I have to. What’s up with the door?”
Brennan huffed a laugh. “Well, the last time there was one of those up—” he pointed to the Out of Order sign stuck to the bathroom door, “—we got locked in here for the game.”
“He’s paranoid,” Grant interjected.
“Well, yeah, maybe,” Brennan retorted. “Or just cautious. Because Sam’s been acting weird lately, and we’re coming up to the last few records of the season, so he’s probably planning something way out of the box for the finale. And the original cast was you, me and Beardsley, so…”
He shrugged one shoulder meaningfully, and Grant nodded, conceding both the point and the potential for chaos.
“So if Sam comes in to give us the briefing, rather than waiting til we’re on set,” Brennan continued, “or there’s anything else weird going on, I’m gonna know about it right from the beginning.”
He turned to the Doctor. “The only reason I'm not quizzing you is because I know for a fact Beardsley was genuinely scheduled for this, so you can't be a plant by the production team. No offence.”
“None taken,” the Doctor smiled. “That sort of thing happen often, does it?”
Grant and Brennan exchanged a look. 
“More than you'd think,” Grant answered with a grimace. 
“Alright,” the Doctor said slowly, then brightened. “So what is it we're actually doing?”
Grant gave him a disbelieving glance. “You don't know—?”
“Very last minute fill-in,” the Doctor said breezily. “But don't worry, I'm a quick study.”
“Well, you're not that much worse off than the rest of us,” Brennan said encouragingly. “You know about Game Changer, obviously, if you know Sam, and we only find out the rules of the game once we get on set. Hopefully,” he added, with a dark look back at the Out of Order sign. 
The Doctor nodded. No, he didn't know Sam, and he didn't know Game Changer, but he could work out the situation from context clues. This was a game show. And with the Toymaker banished, and Satellite Five not coming into existence for another 198000 years, give or take, he found himself smiling. Maybe third time would be the charm. 
“Mmm, hopefully they aren't going to throw you in the deep end,” Grant said. “Because Brennan might seem lovely now, but as soon as we get out there, he's a whore for points. He'll stab you in the back and won't even blink.”
Brennan barked with laughter. “Yeah, and you wouldn't?”
“Excuse you, I'm always a goddamn delight,” Grant replied, the very picture of injured dignity. 
“Oh, absolutely!” agreed a new voice. The Doctor turned to the now-open door to see a bearded man in a pinstriped suit smiling broadly. “That's why we keep inviting you back!”
Grant bowed sarcastically. “Why, thank you, Sam. Good to know I'm appreciated by someone here.”
“Always,” Sam replied, gently but firmly ending that particular path of the conversation. He scanned the room, and his eyes lit up when they landed on the Doctor. 
“Ah, you must be the Doctor!” he said with obvious delight, walking over with his hand outstretched. “I'm Sam—thanks for filling in for us, you've made sure we're going to have a good show. Seriously, it's a pleasure to have you here.”
“Aw, cheers!” the Doctor smiled, shaking the offered hand. “Glad I could help out, I'm really looking forward to this!”
“Well, great!” Sam exclaimed, then took a step back, regarding all three players in turn. “Now, folks, I'm just letting you know that we're just about ready to start the record, so if you can start heading down, that'd be great.”
Grant and Brennan nodded—Brennan, the Doctor noticed, with relief. 
“See you down there,” Sam said, smiling. “Have a great show, and—”
His eyes caught on the Doctor's for a second, twinkling. 
“Good luck.”
---
Backstage, the Doctor, Brennan and Grant were marshalled into podium order and given a final briefing from the crew. And then, with a thumbs-up from Kaylin, that was it.
Showtime.
“Get ready for a Game Changer!” came Sam's voice from onstage. “Tonight’s guests: he can shoot off a monologue with laser accuracy; it’s Brennan Lee Mulligan!”
Brennan, his back to the camera as the curtains opened, spun on his heel and, with a stone-cold expression, pointed finger guns straight down the barrel, before letting the facade crack open. “Hi!” he exclaimed, and walked over to the leftmost podium.
“It’s his first appearance, but he’s already on fire; it’s the Doctor!”
The Doctor leant against the archway to the stage and flashed a broad smile towards the camera, then in a few skipping steps, had bounded over to the next free podium. What the hell, why not make an entrance?
��And even in the toughest of mazes, you’ll always be able to find him; it’s Grant O’Brien!”
Grant dipped his lanky frame into an approximation of a curtsey, spreading his arms wide, then sauntered over to the closest podium with a grin.
“And your host, me!” Sam announced, a ring of manic white showing around his irises as he beamed down the barrel of the camera. “I’ve been here the whole time!”
“This,” he continued, pushing his microphone shut and stowing it in his jacket pocket, “is Game Changer, the only game show where the game changes every show. I am your host, Sam Reich!” 
As he said his name, he looked at his hands, front and back, as if he was pleasantly surprised to be himself, then gestured towards the three podiums.
“I am joined today by these three lovely contestants! Now, you understand how the game works.”
“Of course not,” Grant started. “You know we don't.”
“We can't, Sam, that's the whole point of the theatre you've set up here,” Brennan said over him. 
“Not yet,” was all the Doctor said, anticipation starting to drum a tattoo of excitement against the inside of his ribcage. 
“That’s right!” Sam said brightly, shooting finger guns at the camera. “Our players have no idea what game it is they’re about to play. The only way to learn is by playing. The only way to win is by learning, and the only way to begin is by beginning! So without further ado, let’s begin by giving each of our players fifty points.”
The Doctor, biding his time, watched the reactions of his fellow contestants. Grant looked at the front of his podium, checking the point total, and nodding approvingly when he saw that yes, it was sitting at a round fifty. Brennan, on the other hand, was starting to frown.
“Players, Sam says: touch your nose,” Sam began, and Brennan sighed the sigh of someone who wasn’t happy to be proved right.
“Oh, no,” he groaned. “Oh, you son of a bitch. Wasn’t one this season enough?”
He touched his nose anyway, as did the others, and Sam smiled encouragingly. “Sam says: touch your ear.”
When they all did, Sam nodded. “Touch your other ear.”
Everybody held still, fingers on the ears they had originally touched.
Sam beamed. “Easy, players, right?”
“You say that now,” Brennan said darkly. “Which makes it worse, because all you're doing is setting us up for failure.”
Sam gasped, pretending offence. “Would I do that?”
“Yes,” Brennan and Grant replied in unison, which drew a grin from the Doctor and set Sam off chuckling.
“And I'm not having it,” Brennan continued, leaning his elbows against his podium and pointing at Sam with the hand not touching his ear. “You better watch yourself, because I know how this game works, and you're not going to get one over on me.”
“Strong words, Brennan!” Sam said, clearly delighted by this response. “Okay, then, let's start making things a bit more interesting!”
The game continued as per Sam Says usual, some rounds done as a group and some individual. Points were won, sure, but lost slightly more frequently, and even the Doctor found he was having to concentrate to avoid getting caught in the host's traps. 
It was fun. Genuinely, it was like playing a game with friends, and the Doctor felt himself leaning into it. There wasn't any sign of danger—maybe there wasn't a mystery to solve at all, and the TARDIS just decided he needed a total break. 
Well, probably not. But the way things were going, he was able to let himself hope. 
“Alright, players,” Sam said a good few rounds in, just as pleasantly as he would start any other question, and the screen behind him dinged as a new prompt popped up. “Survive the death beam.”
For a second, everything was frozen perfectly still. 
And then came the crash, the explosive noise of heavy machinery moving relentlessly through a drywall set.
The Doctor was already moving. “Everyone down!”
“Duck!” Brennan yelled at the same time.
The two of them hit the ground within milliseconds of each other, but Grant was still paralysed in the face of the giant, science-fiction type laser cannon that had just ploughed through the wall. 
It whined ominously, screaming its way to fever pitch. And then a sharp pain in Grant’s ankle made him stagger, pitching forwards onto the carpet behind the podiums as the Doctor rolled away to avoid getting pinned.
“Sorry, babes,” the Doctor whispered. “But it was either kick you to get you down, or—”
A hideous metallic screech ripped through the air, and all three of them could feel the crackle of ozone as a beam of energy swept across what had, moments ago, been neck height.
“…Or that,” the Doctor finished with a grimace.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Grant breathed, suddenly very conscious of every inch of his 6’9 frame. “Thanks.”
“Well done, players!” Sam exclaimed delightedly from above them. “But… sorry, I didn’t say ‘Sam says’, so that’s a point off for everyone.”
“What the fuck!” Brennan snapped.
“Are you actually insane?” Grant demanded at the same time, his voice overlapping with Brennan’s.
In response, Sam just wheezed with laughter. “You can come back to your podiums,” he said, cheerfully ignoring them.
Nobody moved.
“Very good!” he acknowledged, and even without seeing his face, the grin was obvious in his voice. “Okay, Sam says: come back to your podiums.”
Although the words were innocuous, and his tone was just as light and breezy as usual, there was nevertheless an edge hiding just underneath the surface. And while the death beam loomed large in the minds of all three players, it was impossible to consider disobedience as an option.
Slowly, they stood, returning to their places. Now they had the time to look at it properly, the death beam was even more sinister, and Brennan and Grant both kept flicking nervous glances its way, ready to move if it looked like it was charging up again.
The Doctor, however, was focused purely on the man standing in front of them. Unbothered, Sam met his gaze like a challenge, a mischievous smile playing about his lips.
“Oh, you’ll love this one,” he said, and the screen changed. “Sam says, starting with Grant: say my name.”
Grant frowned in confusion, but answered quickly nonetheless. “Sam Reich?”
The man himself shrugged tolerantly, moving on. “Brennan?”
Brennan just stared at him coolly. “Do you take me for a fool?”
“Well caught, Brennan!” Sam said happily. “Sam says: say my name.”
“Sam,” Brennan replied, suspicion clear in his voice. “Samuel Dalton Reich.”
He nodded, still with a hint of indifference. “And lastly, Doctor.” His smile broadened. “Sam says: say my name.”
It was easy. Too easy. And as the Doctor looked into the eyes of the man calling himself Sam Reich, he felt his hearts stutter in recognition, because something had changed. He wasn’t hiding himself anymore, and while the face was different yet again, the Doctor would know the shape of that soul anywhere. It was impossible. It was inevitable.
“You can’t be,” he breathed. 
Sam smirked, leaning in across his podium. “Oh, but Doctor… I’ve been here the whole time,” he stage-whispered with a wink.
“He said you lost,” the Doctor said, shaking his head, looking wrong-footed for the first time that Brennan and Grant could recall. “You lost, and he trapped you.”
The other two watched, uncomprehending, but Sam just smiled, drumming his fingers against the podium with an audible beat, fast but distinct. Four taps, four taps, four taps. “I’m waiting.”
The Doctor took a slow, deep breath. Set his jaw. 
“Master.”
---
missed an installment of the game master cinematic universe?
original idea by @ace-whovian-neuroscientist: x
art by @northernfireart concept: x scissor sisters sketch: x sam and his doppelganger: x
writing by me (!) part one (escape the greenroom): x part two (deja vu): x part three (sam says 4): you are here!
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starry-bi-sky · 8 months ago
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danyal al ghul memes because i don't think i've done those yet for this au.
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(the jason one is in reference to the fanon headcanon/au that Jason and Damian potentially knew each other and interacted while jason was in the league. I've thought about it before in context of this au, but haven't thought about it enough to feel inspired or motivated to make a post exploring the idea)
(diablito means, as you can guess, 'little devil'. while i'm neutral to latino jason, i think the nickname is cute as fuck and was danny's main nickname from Jason. i don't wanna touch that timeline so im not gonna decide how old they were when Jason was there.)
Skulker: i am the ghost zone's greatest hunter! i capture and hunt creatures both rare and dangerous. Danyal: a poacher?? you're a poacher?? you poach animals??Skulker:...i sense i've made a mistake of some kind.
anyways that was the day that Skulker cemented himself as Danny's no.1 opp, and still remains there to this day even if he and Vlad are both viciously fighting for second. Out of everyone in the the AP rogues gallery, Skulker will be the first to be thrown under the bus in terms of 'o shit here comes phantom fucking RUN'.
#dpxdc#dp x dc#danny fenton is not the ghost king#dp x dc crossover#dpxdc crossover#danyal al ghul au#dpxdc memes#danyal al ghul#dpdc#truly the epitome of “i dont faster than the bear i just need to be faster than YOU”#regardless of when Jason was with the league he *does* know that Danny loved Damian. don't ask me about the timeline because it'll be#*messsyyyy* and i've seen plenty of aus where jason was there while Damian as an infant so i can totally believe this could happen i just#need to do the mental gymnastics for it. not even. baby im faceplanting right into the mat and not getting up#the last meme is a tiktok sound that i found and thought was hilarious. and would also ABSOLUTELY be a story danyal would tell the#family after reuniting and developing a bond with them. damian has no recollection of this but is embarrassed nonetheless#danny spat that story out when he over heard damian claiming he doesn't have any embarrassing stories from the league. danny beat jason#to the punch and in the most deadpan voice said 'i remember you walking into my room. as a toddler. in nothing but a diaper. and picking#a marble up off the floor and holding it out. like the skull of yorick. before putting it as far down your throat as possible. i had to#stick my entire arm down your esophagus to pull it out. and save your life' before walking away#i got the ages wrong in the last image so just assume that danny recently turned seven and damian is like#18 months old#about a year and a half.
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stargirl230 · 1 year ago
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I’m so late to this but i started watching ofmd and jim has stolen my whole heart 🍊
(no reposts; reblogs appreciated)
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athousandbyeol · 29 days ago
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thame, the person i want to get to know the most...... is you.
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leucoratia · 7 months ago
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My favourite loser scientist (we are legally married)
Handplates!Gaster by @zarla-s (thank you so much for this AU it has given me life for the past 6 years)
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saucerfulofsins · 1 month ago
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I love the juice bar scene as much as the next person. I especially love the juice bar scene in conjunction with the confession.
And yeah, the "I'm straight" is chekov's gun, and the chemistry between Eddie and father Brian too. I love the meta/spec/headcanons!
That's not what I want to talk about. Instead, I want to talk about how sensitive Father Brian has been to Eddie's needs. He offered Bobby help in the church, face to face, and that worked for Bobby because he's a religious man. Eddie went to confession, and got his grievances aired, but -
we know Eddie's relationship with the church and religion is more complex than Bobby's. It doesn't work.
And then Father Brian runs into Eddie, recognizes him although he probably only saw Eddie through the confessional's grate. He remembers Eddie's name, too. He cares! And I don't think that's a sexual/romantic thing at all - and I don't think it is religious either. Yes, religion is the context within which he works, but it's not the only context.
He's not technically on the job when he sits down at that table; he's away from the protection by the grandiose rituals embedded in going to church, confession, wearing robes. He does it out of personal care, affection for humanity; he fills the role of a social worker, a guidance counselor - and religion is one of his tools but it's clearly not his only tool. It's also his ability to observe, and to listen, and to reflect on things - putting his finger on the sore spot in ways no one else in Eddie's life has done. That takes guts, especially because he knows Eddie's in a vulnerable place.
And he does it not because he's interested in Eddie romantically/sexually - that is not the reciprocity he seeks, nor the reciprocity that fulfills him. He does it because he cares.
The setting certainly helps too. Eddie doesn't feel as intimidated, not like a fish out of water. Only his title marks Father Brian as a religious figure; he uses it to break the ice and mark himself as safe ("I am celibate"), and then finally invokes his position to speak to Eddie's Catholic guilt and get him to do something for himself.
I don't know. It just felt deeply human and caring and I enjoy that a lot, and I love how it all connects back to Eddie first realizing his Catholic guilt in 7x05.
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kavaleyre · 3 days ago
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“in all timelines, in all possibilities, only you can show me this…”
🔷🩷✨♦️💚🔶🤍
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marypsue · 2 days ago
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Man, it's cool and all if you see a metaphor for marginalisation in the monstrous, and if you want the power fantasy of 'what if you could just eat anybody who threatened you/pissed you off'. Me too.
However, as soon as you start saying 'no, these monsters are a 1:1 on Specific Marginalised Group, and you have to treat them in the fiction like they are directly representative of real human members of the marginalised group', BUT you also, in the fiction, make them hurt/kill/eat humans? And then try to shame me, your audience, for noticing or engaging with the bit where they kill people, because you made them directly representative of a real-world marginalised group? You have lost me, and also, I think, the plot.
#hear yourself. for the love of whatever you cherish.#'but they only kill bigots so ACTUALLY they're the GOOD GUYS -' your metaphor of monstrosity is entirely premised on the question of#'what if what you went around righteously killing; believing your actions to be justified;#were actually people and it was not in fact righteous or justified to just kill them'#'what if the world isn't neatly split into 'good guys' and 'bad guys'#who gets to decide who or what is 'bad'? because that's the original problem of monstrosity-as-metaphor-for-marginalisation#(if as a creator you say 'oh my intention with this was X' cool!#if instead you go with something like. well.#'well in this setting monsters are so rare it doesn't matter that they kill people and you'd have to be a homicidal sadistic psychopath >#< to hunt them; but sure I guess if you want to play a Bad Person' well I might have#but if you're going to explicitly judge me for wanting to engage with the moral question of 'how justified is this and who would do it#versus how justified are these monsters if they do have to harm or kill people to continue to exist'#then maybe I just don't want to play your game at all)#anyway I'm sick to death of poor uwu cozy vampires who are SO marginalised so I'm not Allowed to care about all the people they murder#it being fucked up is what's fun about it! do all the other shit but let me take the murders seriously!#and inb4 someone accuses me of being a bigot for saying 'actually I don't think you get a free pass to kill and eat people if you're gay'#remember when the CW's famously reactionary and conservative Supernatural tried to just gloss over the part where every time its heroes >#< killed a demon with a magic knife it also killed the person the demon was possessing#and say 'oh no it's fine we don't care about those killings; they don't matter; don't bother caring about them either'#but they were doing it to glorify exactly the kind of people that these 'monster as metaphor' stories are trying to cast as expendable?#I have other examples that are like. real dramas. but That Paranormal Show is the one that's in the same niche that I'm talking about here#it feels more insidious when it comes through a fantasy show where there are monsters involved#so you can say 'no it's not real so it doesn't matter'#but then ALL of it is equally not real. and vampires are not actually an oppressed group. because they don't exist.#you can say 'these vampires are a metaphor for an oppressed group so this fiction matters in real life'#or you can say 'don't care about the murders because they weren't actually real'#but you can't say both and then get mad at ME for treating the murders as seriously as the vampires#let me engage with your premise and don't waste my fucking time#or just set your fluff in the Sesame Street universe where vampires drink cherry Kool-Aid and help kids learn to count
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teathattast · 11 months ago
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applestruda · 2 years ago
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Soulmates
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punchitmrsulu · 9 months ago
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"After I left here, why did you come after me?" "You know why." "Say it. I need you to." "You're the love of my life. I couldn't just let you go. It felt like my heart ripped itself out of my chest and walked out the door."
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samgatinho · 1 year ago
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MARTYN!!!! THE LITTLE GUY!!!
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adriancatrin · 11 months ago
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soulmark au sketches. the idea of sokka in proven ‘soulmates are real’ universes consistently intrigues me—how would that impact his skepticism/interpretation of fate/destiny/free will? personally i think he’d be very angry for a very long time and probably not even understand why
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