#bitch I been ghosted

[starry-bi-sky]

don't you want to be a cult leader? - danyal al ghul au

this is mostly a joke post but i thought it was funny and had to share so--

his first mistake was, obviously, inheriting his father's inability to see an injustice and stand still. -- actually, danyal's first mistake was his lair being so big. a mountainous island with a large temple in the center resembling his old home in Nanda Parbat? With sprawling foliage and rivers and streams and waterfalls galore? What was he going to do with all that space? Let it go to waste? He had plants there! Native trees of the ghost zone growing from the soil! He couldn't let it all be left unchecked!

So naturally after helping a fellow teenage assassin ghost -- who he later learns is named Akihiko, -- from Walker of all people, he sent them over to hang low at his lair until it was safe enough for them to wander around the Zone. Walker couldn't get through Danyal's astrofield if his life depended on it, and trust him -- he's tried. Danny was clearing out debris from his stupid transport vans for weeks.

Honestly it wasn't so bad, he and Aki really quickly became fast friends and Danny loves having a sparring partner close to his level again -- he hasn't had this much fun fighting since he left the League. Aki was very dedicated and levelheaded, the both of them clicked really well because of it.

Nonono, the real trouble began after Danyal met some long-passed League members and allowed them to come join his island as well. Apparently they had made a few enemies of the zone, and maybe Danyal still felt some loyalty to the League. He couldn't just let them be left to rot. Their zealotry could be overlooked so long as they kept it contained and helped him take care of his island.

And it.. snowballs from there? He meets a teen squire aptly calling himself Ambroise -- whether that was his living name or not is yet to be seen -- who died during feudal france, who is just about as dramatic and passionate as every french stereotype makes them out to be. He calls Danyal "my moon and great muse" -- which is both flattering and little uncomfortable, but Danyal's grown up in the League as the Grandson of the Demon Head, he is used to mild worship. he passes it off as nothing more, nothing less. -- and while his energy is overwhelming on the worst of days, he helps Danny draw out of his shell more in ways that Sam and Tucker still struggle with.

Him and Aki butt heads a lot, but the two seem to hold the other in at least some positive regard, so Danny doesn't worry too much about them fighting while he's gone. It only becomes a mild issue when Aki also begins calling Danny "my moon". It's a little sweet, so Danyal brushes it off.

Then he takes in a troupe of ghosts some time after he defeats Pariah Dark and they begin calling him "great one" just as the yetis do in the far frozen. This is where he meets the twins -- a pair of sibling ghosts who call themselves Trixie and Missy (short for Trick and Mislead) -- who aren't quite as passionate as Ambroise but more energetic than Aki. Eventually they also start calling Danyal "my moon" and attach themselves to his hip, even within the living. They like to hide in his shadow and cause trouble for the rest of the students. He makes sure they don't hurt anyone.

He's pretty sure Aki is jealous, same with Ambroise, but he can't be too certain other than the fact that they become much more lingering (re: clingy) whenever he visits the island.. Something he's trying to do much more often these days due to the increasing amount of people living there now. Since when did he become so popular?

Then there's Pēnelópeia from the Greater Athens, who ran away from home and joined his Island after he ran into her while she was being chased by Skulker -- and he's pretty sure the reason was because of her chimeric appearance. Her strange eyes and mismatched wings and lion's tail and talons. She assimilates into his friend group very easily, she gets along well with Ambroise and Trixie and Danny usually finds the three of them climbing the trees to pluck the most fruit from the top. They can fly and he knows it, but they prefer to climb.

Then finally there's silent poet Akkara who comes from ancient mesopotamia, who gets along most with Aki -- which is no surprise there considering their similar personality dispositions. he watches Aki and Danyal fight each other and leaves comments on this or that that he notices. He writes Danyal poems on clay tablets and leaves them by his room.

They're one big mismatched group of outcasts, and Danny's got the other ghosts on his island to tend to, because they're living on his island and he wants to be hospitable even if he struggles with that. But he spends the most of his time with them.

Sam and Tucker are making fun of him. Tucker jokingly tells him 'careful Danny, at this rate you're gonna start a cult'. Danny really wishes he had taken that joke more seriously.

He just. keeps. collecting people. Wayward souls lost in the zone, looking for shelter or refuge from something or other -- whether that be another hostile ghost, or a past afterlife, or just a purpose. Danyal finds them, he takes them in, offers them a place on his island until they are ready to leave. Many seldom do. He's not complaining -- he has the space, and it feels like it's only ever growing.

His close friends, his "inner circle" as he's heard the others call them, keep insistently calling him "my moon". He starts calling them his stars, because then it only feels fair. They're his stars, this is his constellation. It becomes a thing; little star halos begin forming behind their heads, picking them out from the rest. He loves them so much, it's hard to place. Sam and Tucker are also his stars, but they reside in the living realm, they're his tie to Life. Meanwhile, his friends here know what it's like to be dead, and sometimes its nice to relate.

Those living on his island keep calling him "Great One" and he's beginning to notice zealotry in their care for his island. He really, deeply appreciates it. His close friends gain nicknames -- as his stars, it's only natural for him to pick them out from the cluster in the skies. Akihiko, his Sirius and bright star. Trix and Missy, Castor and Pollux, the twins and troublemakers. Ambroise, his zealous Antares and close friend. Penelopeia, chimeric and loyal Vega. And Akkara, his Arcturus and strength.

It's ridiculous how long it takes for him to notice; he is, of course, a deadly trained assassin. He is meant to be observant -- and normally he is! But somehow this becomes a blind spot. One that becomes too big to be dealt with by the time he realizes it.

He should've noticed when Aki, his Sirius, stood beside him one day while Danyal looked over his island and saw the sprawling spirits carrying on about their afterlife and bowing to him as they saw him, and said: "I looked down into the depths when I met you; I couldn't measure it." They aren't one for flowing prose, it took him so off guard he was silent for over a minute before he finally spoke.

Danyal should've recognized devotion for what it is, and yet he didn't. He should've recognized it when Antares began spouting praises about him, crowing about his radiance and resplendence to the heavens. He just brushed it off as Ambroise being Ambroise. He should've recognized it when Trix and Missy nearly broke Dash's leg after he knocked Danyal's books out of his hands, he excused it as them being protective. Of them coming from times where such violence may have been customary -- after all, that's what he used to be like. What he was still like, sometimes, when his emotions nearly got the better of him.

He should've noticed it when the people living on his island followed his word like gospel, looked at him like he hung the stars in the sky. When his friends gifted him a shawl with the moon phases delicately embroidered into it, with silver, shimmering thread and moving stars lovingly stitched into it. Their constellations seen clear as day in the dark fabric. When he found small shrines dedicated to him -- but they lacked any image of him beyond stones carved to look like moons, so he ignored it. When the religious imagery began popping up.

He really, really should've noticed it when a bunch of cultists accidentally summoned Antares, and Antares had turned to him when he arrived and called them heretics. But he was so centered on the fact that they had kidnapped one of his stars, that he hadn't paid much attention to what Ambroise had said.

Sages say that faith is blind, they should also say faith in you is even blinder.

It really only hits him one afternoon while he's sitting in Sam's room studying with Tucker, Missy and Trixie lounging at his feet, Aki sat on his right, Penelopeia braiding his hair, Ambroise draped against him, and Akkara lurking over him. Its one of the rare few times they're all in one room together.

It hits him like a bolt of lightning. He looks up from his textbook. "Oh Ancients," he says in no amounting shock. Everyone looks up to him.

"I've become my grandfather."

[ministarfruit]

day 24: plagued by the horrors ♡

(femslashfeb prompt list)

[spinjitsuburst]

why aren’t there more concepts around the overlord being absolutely terrifying. horror-movie level eldritch being. the embodiment of DARKNESS and EVIL ITSELF should be a terrifying entity not only psychologically but also physically

[iamthecomet]

𝙴𝚢𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚁𝚘𝚊𝚍

Rating: E Pairing: Dewther Featuring: Blowjobs, hand jobs, a long drive. Roadhead. Word Count: 2.1k Inspired by this post from @dewinabsentia Many thanks to @miasmaghoul, @forlorn-crows and @st-danger for enabling me (like always). Banner by the amazing @forlorn-crows

On AO3 here, or under the cut.

They've been on the road for a while. Long enough that Dew has sunk into the easy monotony of highway driving. One hand on the wheel. The other arm resting in the open window. A cigarette dangling from his fingers. Ash drifting down onto the window controls. He’ll brush them away later. Before they get home and Mountain sees.

The old truck is the only car he's allowed to smoke in, so naturally he has to take full advantage. He takes a long drag. Keeps a cursory eye on the cars in front of him. They’re far enough ahead that he doesn’t really have to think about them. He hates driving near other people, because everyone else is a fucking terrible driver. They don’t pay attention. They go too slow. They tap their brakes on straight flat sections of roads. He wants to be able to relax while he drives–he doesn’t want to have to fight for his life among idiots.

Dew sinks deeper into the seat. He wishes, for the millionth time, that the old truck had cruise control. But it doesn’t. It’s an early 90s relic, with manual crank windows, and heavy doors that stick when you open them. The cloth on the bench seat is soft and warm and riddled with cigarette burns that mostly aren’t Dew’s fault.

It’s a far cry from the modernity of the other cars in Abbey possession. But this one is Dew’s favorite. It struggles to start sometimes, it guzzles gas. But the stereo is new, and loud. And it’s so sturdy Dew’s pretty sure it could survive nuclear war.

He finishes his cigarette. He grinds it out in the ashtray–because it’s old enough to have both an ashtray and a cigarette lighter.

Aether’s across the bench seat from him. Leaning up against the door. Singing along softly to the music as he looks out the window. Watching the trees flicker by. Tensing up every time someone merges onto the highway next to them a little too aggressively.

He’s had his hand on Dew’s thigh for the last twenty miles. Warm and heavy and creeping higher and higher with each exit they pass.

Dew feels free for the first time in months. Away from the Abbey. Just the two of them in an old beat up truck. Traveling a hundred miles north to pick up some artifact Imperator insists they have. Dew feels like he can breathe. No band practice. No Imperator or Copia or Mountain breathing down his neck. No Cirrus telling him to do the dishes. Or Aeon asking to practice. He loves all of them with every bit of his soul.

But Satanas did he need this drive. He’s glad it’s Aether who’s with him. Everyone else feels the need to talk when they’re in a car. To fill silence. To tell Dew every mundane thing about their day, their week, their feelings. And again, he loves them. He loves listening to them talk about literally anything. But also–there’s something about the sound of the wheels on the road, and the music and nothing else.

Aether’s hand slides higher the longer they go. Dragging up Dew’s black jeans. There’s a rip in the upper thigh–just below the pocket–and Dew almost jumps out of his skin when he feels Aether’s fingers dip into it. Just a little. The warm calloused brush of his fingers over soft sensitive skin.

Dew lets his head fall back against the headrest. He laughs to himself. “You bored or something?”

Aether shakes his head, he turns to look at Dew for what feels like the first time since they got on the highway. “Course not. I’m with you.”

“Gross,” Dew rolls his eyes, and Aether laughs at him. That big hand on his thigh squeezes and Dew makes a choked little noise as Aethers’ fingers graze over the the crotch of his jeans, the barest touch along his balls and he’s trying not to shudder.

“I’m driving,” Dew chides.

“Yeah, I know. But I’m not.”

Dew knows he’s in trouble before Aether actually does anything. It’s the weight of his hand on his leg. The glint in those violet eyes that tell Dew it is only going to get worse. And Dew knows he could stop it–he also knows he won’t. He doesn’t want to.

He’ll protest though, just a little. That’s part of the fun, after all. But it isn’t like he’s going to say no to a handjob. Driving is only taking up like 10% of his brain–the other 90 needs something to do.

Aether’s hand slides sideways, into Dew’s lap. Cupping him through his jeans. Dew hisses. His eyes flutter closed just for a second. Breath huffing out in a soft sigh that almost feels like relief.

“Eyes on the road, Dewdrop.”

“Yes, mom.” Dew says, opening his eyes. Trying and failing to regain an ounce of his composure. Aether squeezes and Dew makes a pained gurgling sound and presses his hips up into Aether’s hand.

Aether palms him, stroking and squeezing. Fingers dipping between Dew’s legs to press up against his balls. Dew can practically feel the blood leaving his brain. His pants get tighter, Aether’s squeezes get firmer. He doesn’t have the will to fight the little sighs and whimpers each stroke brings.

“Satanas, Aeth–”

“Just getting started,” Aether mutters, and Dew’s stomach swoops. Either from anticipation or concern. He doesn’t have time to voice it before Aether’s grabbing for his zipper. The rasp of it is drowned out by the music. Aether pops the button on Dew’s jeans. It takes both hands to peel away the tight fabric, and Dew doesn’t help. Just glancing down long enough to watch Aether pull his briefs down until Dew’s cock springs free.

There’s already pre beading at the tip. Aether swipes his thumb through it and Dew shudders, a full body twitch he has no hope of controlling. They’re so lucky the highway is basically deserted. Lucky it’s straight and flat and familiar.

Dew should stop him. That would be safer. He rolls his hips instead. Fucking his cock through Aether’s loose fist.

“Sit back, relax,” Aether coos. And Dew would snap at him if he had any brain cells left to do it. Instead, he listens, as best he can. Eyes on the road. Each slow stroke of Aether’s hand sending little fissures of pleasure up his spine. He tries to keep from rocking his hips up into Aether’s hand–but it’s hard.

It’s good, easy. Not enough to make him cum, but that’s what he wants. A little pleasure to break up the monotony of this drive. He relaxes back into the seat, really relaxes. Fingers loosening on the wheel, body sagging back into the seat as the haze of pleasure settles over him.

“Good?”

Dew nods, hums an affirmative. “Real good.”

Aether lets out a little chuckle, and then, Dew hears his seatbelt click. He jolts, spine going straight. Head whipping over to look at Aether just in time to watch the seatbelt retract back into the door.

“What are you–”

“You’ll see.”

Aether shifts, moves so he’s laying flat against the bench seat. Legs hanging off the edge by the door. One hand resting heavy on Dew’s thigh–the other, still teasing the sticky head of his cock.

Dew’s head spins. It takes too long for real thoughts to catch up to him. Aether drags his thumbnail over the thick vein on the underside of Dew’s cock and Dew chokes. He shakes his head like doing that will make him think more clearly.

It doesn’t work.

“Put your fucking seatbelt on, we’re on the highway,” Dew snaps, the words finally forming.

Aether hums. His breath ghosts out over the head of Dew’s cock. Dew looks down just in time to watch it kick. A blurt of pre, drools down the side. Aether catches it with his tongue.

“Guess you’d better drive careful, then.”

Dew doesn’t think any part of this constitutes driving carefully. He puts his other hand on the wheel. Ten and two. He never drives like this–but he’s pretty sure he’s going to need both hands.

To his credit–Aether starts slow. A chaste kiss to the head, before he starts to really kiss it. Dew can’t help but look down. To watch Aether make out with the head of his cock. Tongue flicking out over the slit. Tongue dragging over the head in the same motions Dew is so used to feeling against his own tongue. Languid and decadent. Aether hums happily as he laps up more pre.

“Eyes on the road, droplet,” Aether mumbles against the sensitive underside of Dew’s cock.

Dew drags his eyes up and away from the scene below him. Back to the road, which is a safer, but much less interesting option. It’s almost worse when he can’t see it. When he doesn’t anticipate Aether’s every move. Each flick of his tongue is a surprise. A new brand of raw pleasure that has his knuckles going white on the steering wheel.

Aether sucks the head into his mouth and Dew jolts. Groaning low and wrecked. Hips bucking up, sliding another inch into the wet heat of Aether’s mouth. His eyes flutter–he manages to keep them open. Mostly by clenching his jaw so hard it actually hurts. He worries, vaguely, about chipping a tooth, but it’s a fleeting thought. Chased out of his brain when Aether takes all of him at once.

Nose pressed into the soft curls at the base of Dew’s cock. Breathing steadily through his nose. Aether groans. Dew feels the vibrations in his bones. When Aether swallows, Dew can’t help but thrust up into his throat a little more. Aether chokes, just a little, just enough to make something traitorous in Dew’s stomach twist.

He wants to pull the car over. He wants to hold Aether’s head down and fuck his throat until tears spill down Aether’s face.

He almost does it when he glances over to see Aether humping the seat. To see him sneak his free hand into his pants so he can grope himself. Humping into his own palm. The sight makes Dew feel like he’s going insane. He wants free hands. He wants to slip his fingers around Aether’s throat and feel the bulge of his cock.

“Fucking gorgeous,” Dew breathes.

Aether pulls off with a gasp. A string of spit connecting his lips to Dew’s ruddy cock. “Watch the road, Dew.”

Dew would rather do anything but. But he does. Pulling his eyes away from Aether’s flushed cheeks and pleasure bright eyes.

“Gonna get you for this,” Dew breathes. Aether chuckles. Kissing the tip again, sloppy.

Aether’s only answer is a little hum before he descends again. Head bobbing in a slow indulgent rhythm. Dew grinds up into his mouth, matches his movements, falling into an easy rhythm that Dew feels like he could ride out forever.

Aether’s free hand dips a little lower. Pets his balls through the tight fabric of his jeans and Dew whimpers. Broken. Desperate. He tries to push his hips into Aether’s hand, and mouth at the same time. It doesn’t work.

”Take em out. Please,” Dew gasps. And Aether reaches into Dew’s pants and frees his balls. Dew groans in relief when he does. He glances down again, just to see Aether roll them in his hand. When he pulls off of Dew’s cock and ducks down to suck one into his mouth, Dew has to look away. He’ll blow right here and now if he has to watch Aether do this. He closes his eyes–just for a second he swears.

“Lucifer, Aether. Your fucking mouth.”

“You wanna cum in it?”

Dew nods. Head tipping back against the headrest. “Yeah. Make me.”

“I will,” Aether promises. Tongue flicking out over the sensitive underside, Dew tries and fails to control the full body twitch it causes.

“Fuck.”

“How much further?”

Dew glances at his phone, propped up on the dash, and the gps app running on it. “Forty five minutes. Make me cum in five and I’ll give you a hand job.”

Aether hums, thoughtful. Dew knows that sound though–it’s the one Aether makes when he made up his mind a long time ago. Dew’s stomach lurches.

“Aeth–”

“Shh, let me savor this. You don’t want me to get bored, do you?”

Dew groans, low and wrecked when Aether takes him all again. He slips one hand off the wheel to lace his fingers in Aether’s hair–just to feel him.

“No,” Dew agrees, voice tense. “Wouldn’t want that. Take your time.”

Aether does. It’s a long drive after all.

[cerise-on-top]

Ghost with a Transmasc!S/O

I've been wanting to write this since last week! I'm not exactly happy with how it turned out, but maybe someone else can enjoy it as well!

When you’d approach him, all nervous and fumbling around, he’d just stay quiet. Sure, he’ll tell you that, no matter what, you can tell him anything and he won’t judge you, but he won’t pressure you into telling him what’s wrong either, even if he is pretty curious. If you need an hour until you can tell him, then he’ll wait that hour, reassuring you that it’s alright. Once you tell him that you’re a man, he would only be half surprised. He’s seen how you eye other men. While he may have thought that could have been attraction at first, once you come out to him, all the pieces fall into place. You weren’t in love with them, you were admiring them. However, he won’t judge you in the slightest, but will talk to you about what’s okay for you and what isn’t. Are you alright with him bringing up the past? Are you alright with him referring to certain body parts? If not, then he’ll keep that in mind. He’s never really been dysphoric before, so he doesn’t really know what you’re going through, but he tries his darndest to be supportive of you.

In fact, you coming out to him as a trans man makes him think about his own masculinity. What does it mean to him? How would he define it? What makes him feel masculine? Those are things he never really questioned before since he’s never seen himself as anything but a man, he always took it for granted. Although he may not say it, or even realize it at first, I think he might grow more comfortable in his own masculinity as a result.

But that aside, the first thing he does would be taking you to a clothes store to buy you some new clothes. He doesn’t really have an eye for aesthetics, and menswear being usually rather dark in color doesn’t help that much either, but he’ll pick out some shirts and pants for you that would fit you and that you might like. He’d also pick out some boxer shorts for you, the same brand that he uses since those are of a higher quality and will last a bit longer. If you’re extremely nervous about it, then he’ll even go to the cashier and pay for you. You don’t even need to pay him back. As long as he can help you out somehow, he’ll pay any price. Will also buy you some men’s body wash and deodorant. Probably the same he uses since he’s familiar with it.

If you’re alright with it, then he’ll break anyone’s nose who dares to misgender you. Especially on the days where you’re feeling a bit more dysphoric. Naturally, he won’t out you to people when there’s danger involved or when you tell him not to, but he’s not above getting into a fight for you. Especially when some transphobe decides they need to be mean to you for no reason. He’s a scary man, he can intimidate most people with his resting face alone, which he uses to his advantage.

If you can get the approval for your surgeries and testosterone the regular way, then he’ll congratulate you and celebrate with you even. However, if you were denied such, then he has acquaintances who can get you the permits. Nikolai is a good lad, he can get you just about anything. Ghost will fight for your clinical reports.

Once you start going on T, he’ll actually be overjoyed with you. As silly as it may sound, he wants to record you saying something, anything at all, so he can compare your voice now to how it develops later on. He’s pretty good with faces, he probably has a few pictures of you on his phone, even if they aren’t plenty, so he’s confident he’ll be able to tell you how you’re slowly growing into a body that is yours. If you let him, he’ll even administer your shots or rub the gel onto your shoulders. It actually makes him incredibly happy when you do, it’s a sign of trust to him. He gets to watch you be giddy, he gets to spend time with you, he gets to make you feel good. If it was up to him, then he’d hug you every time afterwards.

If you don’t know already, then he’ll teach you how to fight. He’ll teach you how to beat someone bloody and how to get up with a broken nose. Although he may go easy on you at first, he won’t forever. He’s a top notch soldier, so there’s a good chance you won’t ever be able to beat him properly, but you’ll learn. You’ll be able to defend yourself and you’ll have a pretty nice outlet for your anger as well. If you’re okay with it, then he’ll involve Soap in your fighting sessions as well. It’s absolutely animalistic when he joins, so you really don’t need to worry about any sort of etiquette when he’s around. It’s just beating each other into submission and then patching each other up.

If you don’t already know, then he’ll teach you how to ride a motorcycle. For some reason, motorcycles are very masculine to him, so he thinks it would make you feel good as well. One day, you’ll be riding one together, with him being the one to hold onto you. He’s looking forward to that day.

On the days where the dysphoria hits harder than usual, he’ll remind you that you’re a man. You’re the most perfect man in his life, and he wouldn’t want to have it any other way. Holds you close and reminds you that you will become your most ideal self, it just takes time. Either way, he won’t leave you, he won’t think of you as less than a man just because you had to put in the work to get to where you are right now. You’re his most ideal man, and he would go through all the torture he’s gone through once more just to be with you. He’ll support you through your highs and your lows. You’re a man. A darn good one at that, because not anyone can go through what you’re going through and still be standing. He admires you greatly for your strength and will remind you of that fact as well.

[pthalomars]

You call on me as bells begin to chime

[the-wayside]

This show is 6 genres in a trenchcoat.

Let me tell you, the feelings I had when Great leaned in and it was intercut with Tyme's open? Honest? Wanting? Desiring? face - this is why those two were chosen.

[waywardsalt]

with my phantom hourglass replay, there are two things i noticed;

a possible theme you could glean from the game is action vs inaction, and i think it's especially prevalent before you even leave mercay the first time, with oshus frequently urging link to not go after the ghost ship, then to just wait until the broken bridge is fixed, and seems reluctant at every turn while link and ciela are more than eager to go and do something about this problem, and the people of mercay in general talking about things and their problems but never seeming to act on their fears or desires, as well as the mention that due to the ghost ship, very very few people are still sailing around, while linebeck is one of the only people we see in the game actively going after the ghost ship and still sailing around. i might make a longer post just talking more about the action vs inaction in phantom hourglass but i just noticed it a bit and thought it was a bit of an interesting sort of theme you could find in the game.

linebeck moves so fucking much. i think he moves more than any npc in the rest of the game. not just in his intro cutscene where he is very animated, just in how much he moves when just standing in his little idle post, it's damn near distracting when the camera is focused on him, he moves a lot. i don't think i've really acknowledged how much he moves, and it really gives the impression that he's antsy or eager to get going, both of which fit him pretty well with how he acts.

[guttersnarls]

I'm not mad, I'm just disappointed (me 📸 CT 8/20/23)

[mercisnm]

"Sometimes a flower is just a flower..."

[turtlespancake]

me when i write a character who is prone to dooming themself and then they run off and doom themself. core traits are stubbornness and a willingness to disregard their own humanity gET BACK HERE IM NOT DONE WITH YOU

[warlordfelwinter]

FINE bungie i'll admit it you got me with the old tower and cayde ok

[seaweedstarshine]

This part was like half a year ago — but it's still cute that Forge and Ororo were both thinking of each other at almost exactly the same time—

—I love the fact that they agree on what the problem was in their relationship. I see fun things in the future for the reagent and the tinkerer—

—I have unreasonably high hopes they're gonna cross paths and do something interesting in the Black Panther arc in X-Force.

[tuiyla]

girls who don't get it don't appreciate the poetry of jackie taylor

i do, though. i'm girl who Gets it

[deadandphilgames]

oversharing in the tags time :)

[goingghostcomic]

Does the fact that DP now has an official canon continuation affect you while working on the comic

Like does the new canon stuff influence your own vision or has your vision for your reboot remained the same since you started?

Sorry it's taken so long to answer so I'll match with a long answer and update in my process, I'm so sorry lol

But no, an official canon continuation will not stop me from making the comic. And while I do own the new comic and plan on getting all the future official DP merch I can get my hands on, it wont effect my story in the slightest because I haven't read it. Plus I've already written my story and I'm very happy with it. I will someday read the new comic but not anytime soon, I'm just so happy it exists and that it's in my hands either way.

What might stop me (for a little bit at least) is a full on rebooted series, not a continuation/revival because the fandom has been around so long and we've all influenced each other in big or little ways. And since we're all playing in the same sandbox there's naturally some overlap. But this started as a pitch bible/proof of concept for a full on reboot of my own and if there's an active reboot airing I'd be very sad it wasn't mine (so silly I know lol but it's true).

What has stopped me is the a back and forth issue I have on the comic in general. I have found a style of comic I enjoy making, but I have gotten in my own head about it being stiff and bad. I know practice make progress and I'm getting more confident about it and also considering making it into a fic with art and slowly adapting it into a comic just so I can have some thing to post and put out there. But my iPad is dying and outside of sketches on paper I haven't been able to write or draw to the extent I'd like. I've been saving for a new one for a while now and about half way there but life happens and it takes a toll on my savings. So I'm trying to decide what's the best way to proceed and I have a lot of options and that's also a little overwhelming, which sounds silly typing out. But it's easy for me to feel guilt every time I try to commit to one game plan because all my best options rely on me getting a new iPad