#but it’s sure fucking implied

[the--last-great-american-dynasty]

the duffers better make mike an absolute menace this season. both with the most brutal sarcasm you’ve ever seen and with the fact that he will just NOT LEAVE WILL ALONE. like dude has almost lost him too many times and now he’s in danger again and mike won’t leave his side and it’s driving everyone crazy

[suja-janee]

I’ve been losing my mind over these guys recently

[castielsprostate]

breaking the sign in two by how hard im tapping it

[xullian]

Merry Xmas

My (second) favorite part cpau for christmas

Reaper belongs to renrink

Geno belongs to loverofpiggies

[royaltea000]

his cutie mark :(

[serpentface]

WARDI WRITTEN LANGUAGE (BASICS).

Couya's full name (properly 'Haidamane Couya') written formally and with common handwriting conventions.

The Wardi written language derives from earlier proto-language systems consisting exclusively of logograms without direct phonetic meaning or grammatical structure. These symbols gradually became simplified and abstracted to the point of many having little intrinsic clarity, and combined to communicate abstract concepts.

The development of a full written language did not occur independently (as very few written languages do), and its phonetic elements (namely its use of syllabograms) were largely derived the 'ancient' Burri writing system, gradually synthesized with native writing conventions, and in the contemporary forms a wholly distinct system. The language's Relatively universalized form is a very recent phenomena, developing within the past two centuries with the region's conquering/unification into a single entity.

The contemporary written language is a mixture of logograms and syllabograms. It is read from right to left and arranged in horizontal columns. The most formal variant of this system contains each character within a square outline, usually separated by a small space. This outline confers little phonetic or symbolic information beyond making distinction between syllables exceptionally clear, and can be (and often is) omitted in handwriting. The separation of words is conveyed through a narrow rectangle or line in formal contexts, and again often omitted in handwriting (instead indicated instead by a wider blank space).

The pure logograms that have been retained in this writing system tend to be those of very common words or specific concepts (most logogram characters for types of livestock, key crops, water, major body parts, etc are widely recognized and in common use). There has not yet been any attempts to fully 'formalize' the language and omit potentially unnecessary logograms, and they remain frequently used as shorthand while conveying the same semantic information.

Many of the syllabogram characters are directly derived from logograms that depicted monosyllabic words. For example, the spoken word 'gan' means 'cow', and the character for the syllable 'gan' is identical to the common logogram for 'cow'.

The name Gantoche (literally "cow-eye") could be written either fully with syllabograms as:

or through logograms as:

Both ultimately communicate the same meaning, but the former clarifies pronunciation (the words gan and atoche are contracted, it's gantoche and not gan-atoche).

It is a relatively easy written language to learn, as the pure syllabogram characters indicate their own pronunciation with little ambiguity and often have consistency to their construction (ie the character for the syllable 'man' contains most of the same elements as that for the syllable 'wan'- the dot placement in particular has indication of the vowel sounds).

The inclusion of logograms in general and many of the syllabic characters being directly imported From logograms complicates matters. These characters lack visual consistency, and can be confusing to the large swath of the public who know common logograms but not the full written language itself. Ie: the word 'ungande' meaning 'liver' will be composed of logogram-derived syllable characters for 'un' (which alone means 'hand') and 'gan' (which alone means 'cow'). Someone who is only semi-literate in common logograms may be confused at the meaning, especially since these same exact same characters may be used elsewhere on their own to indicate 'hand' or 'cow'.

One major exception to this tendency is that current religious doctrine requires established logogram characters describing God to be used in place of syllabic characters. The word for god is 'Od', and has its own unique character (as do each of the Faces, the capital F 'Face', and Its deified pronoun). The syllable 'od' [oʊd] is very common in the Wardi language, and a wholly separate character is used for the phonetic sound when it is not a reference to the deity (ie 'lion' (odo [oʊdoʊ]) does not contain the same character for God in spite of its first syllable having the exact same pronunciation). Names are a bit of a gray area (ie: the name 'Odabi' is very common and carries the meaning of 'gift/blessing from God'). Religious leadership is currently experiencing a mild schism on whether the written character for God is separated due to being wholly sacrosanct (and thus inappropriate to include in the written form of a personal name) or as more of a functional delineation of the sacred and mundane.

[kinetic-chaos]

Iblis is so back guys

Inspired by one of the memes on this post!

[rbtlvr]

ive never seen an episode of house in my life but the second i saw the og image the only thing i could think about was them and it wouldnt leave me alone until i drew it. cluster au by @loop-lover-central

og image + individual siffrins + loop under the cut bc i was happy with how they turned out

[gay-jesus-probably]

Okay so I have a lot of thoughts about the whole thing of the Gerudo being a race of entirely women, with the only exception being one man born every hundred years, and that man automatically being their king. Now this worldbuilding comes from Ocarina of Time, and there's obviously a metric fuckton of unfortunate implications there, because it was 1998. And it seems that Tears of the Kingdom is sticking with the lore of Gerudo men being extremely rare and becoming the King of their people, which once again has a metric fuckton of unfortunate implications because it's 2023 and Nintendo has somehow gotten even worse about this shit.

But let's set aside the whole... everything, and look at this from just the in-universe perspective. How does it work? I mean, it's pretty clear that there is no overlap between the kings; the old ones are normally long gone by the time a new one is born, but the Gerudo manage to take care of themselves during the hangtime. So they must have an established system of government and leadership that doesn't involve a king, and somehow that system is set up in a way that does a smooth transfer of power once a new king is born and old enough to take the throne. But why bother always declaring a random guy to be your King when you already have a perfectly functional system in place?

I mean again, the whole thing has a lot of sexist implications, but we're not looking at this from a real world context, we're examining it in-universe. And we could just go the lazy route and say that their king is in charge just because he's the only man, but I don't like that. I mean come on, the Gerudo are a race of entirely women, and most of their outside problems come from Hylian men being creepy about it. They are entirely a matriarchy; there is literally no reason for their culture to have an inherent respect for men, even if the man in question is one of them. And they're desert people; they live in an extremely harsh and dangerous landscape, if they don't have their shit together, they will die. By sheer necessity, their culture needs to put a lot of value in being practical, because if they're stupid about things, people die. They really can't afford to have a shitty leader take over, and just letting some guy take the wheel doesn't really fit with the way their culture must otherwise work.

So again, why the fuck do they bother having a King?

I think it's mainly just a ceremonial position. Yes, if the guy is a good leader he'll be in charge, but if he isn't good at being a King or isn't interested in the job... fuck it, they've already got a functional government system that's been leading their people the whole time, why fix what isn't broken? The title of Gerudo King isn't about leadership or power. I think it's more about belonging. Because the Gerudo are a culture where every single one of them can be defined in the same way... and there is exactly one exception once a century. Men are considered to be inherently outsiders at the best of times, and more often they're enemies. A man born into this culture is a natural outsider; he is completely unique, and that means he doesn't really fit into his community. And well... when someone is fundamentally different from the rest of their community, they tend to be ostracized.

So I think that's why the position of Gerudo King exists. It isn't about them needing or even wanting a man to lead them. The title of King doesn't need to involve any leadership at all. It's about giving the man born every century a place in their society. It's a way of saying yes, you are one of us, you are a Gerudo, you belong here, you are wanted and you are loved.

The Gerudo know that every hundred years, one of their children will be fundamentally different from all of his peers. And so their society is built to ensure that a child who is completely different from them will still be loved and accepted. He will always have a place in their society. He doesn't need to earn their love, he has it just for existing. These are his people.

The title of Gerudo King isn't an inherent position of authority. It's a promise of acceptance.

[cable-salamdr]

Better question. Have you heard about these characters Cosmo and tails? [i enter the room and just start shooting you]

[I fully embrace this] Oh thank god yes please kill me

Hate these two. Least favourite qpr ever I dont even think about them daily.

[mtx-lol]

rare instance of me being actually really happy with a design

actually gonna word vomit about it;

this came to me the mili, picosecond ive finished colouring the third redesigns which is now completely out of a date of ever seeing the sun so have fun mulling over that lol .

anyways so basically, ive discovered this technique of limiting to 3 or 2 themes for each character, to which i built apon with an overall theme for the whole media and have it paired up with the characters individual theme. ive decides to try for a more flexible or abstract dressing theme for tam, being duality since yknow her hybrid species/transitioning species kinda thing (in hindsight it shouldve been asymmetry but whatevs), the rest was roadsigns and scout.

originally it was going to be a flower, then it was going to be melded skulls and roses but just decided on a skull, the back of her head was a weak resemblance of this broken solar panel thing ? still dont know, but it was cool; this was supposed to be an attempt at symbolism of her trying to weaponise her unique kind of loneliness, being a hybrid and having unconventional origins in the sense of her childhood and the abyssals, trying to replicate a dishonering danger with the horns coming out as well, stabbing away any approachers. the weird cut snout with teeth was supposed to be the top half of a mouth but i thought it would be funnier if it was more a collector showcase base for her weird teeth collection fixation, all from the underground visits john used to take her with when she wasnt older and sicker, a rare interlude of her bleak-less worldview and dull colours.

the spikes on the skull is actually sharpened loose metal from railings, poles, machines, etc, and she uses to have more but she snapped them off when the gun jammed. its meant to be a transition from the skull to the metal plate and was meant to replicate the more grandiose version in my head.

idk if i ever properly explained the diamond earing on her left side but its an earing that john will be shown wearing and he decided to give to her as part of his family, but due to her massive fears of her ears being ripped off with it or with anything (headcanons will be supplied, soon enough), she decided to add it to her hat, which is funny because i was going to pierce her with chains but it wouldve been a) too heavy and b) reminded me too much of this guy in secondary school math class who publicly announced his thought of putting a pencil between a earring hoop, so. (sorry)

also the necklace is a variation of johns that she tried to replicate in her own style, idk if that was obvious but john is her biggest reason of and for life.

what else, uhh the yellow tape around is meant to diverage anyones attention from her face or her in general, yknow, 'look down, look away' likes shes shy guy or smthin. its her anxieties, her self-consciousness she tries to comfort with a shield of fear projected onto others, its also a self-poke like 'this girl right here is a CRIME SCENE!!!'

the weird thing over her shirt is supposed to be a ripped version of the shirt she used to wear in earlier versions, a sign of shifting unrecognisablility, breaking out yet still clinging onto the puzzle pieces for a cocoon that kept you safe in the first place. she knows shes tam, not traviler, but something in her wants tomorrow to be the day the hat is over her eyes and the trench coat is the amber touch of anyone she loved. its a drastic, dramatic life change that cant magically happen overnight, shes 22, but theres always a lingering, loose ended however.

uhmmm, she has many belts that i wanted to make into a loose replica of rock climbing belts because i think she really really really really rwalyh REALLY likes climbing up and away but i thought it would be funnier (common pattern realised) if she didnt know that rock climbing is a real profession or that she'd always would do it too tight or loose so she just gave up.

the saws came as an afterthought from this pin and i was like "whaf if she wash bug" but then i realised if i added in another theme i would have to restart and it would be over complicated AGAIN so i just did it with saws because she nearly got her head cut off by a saw and also like a little nod to her HORRENDOUS sitting positions like she would never sit straight, its either upside down, down on the side, manspreading like its a dentist appointment or 6-2 legs on the floor its quite queer of her.

elsewhere, uhhhhh, one of her makeshift shoulder pads was supposed to resemble the wings of an animal like how i originally drew her necklace but like, i kept on forgetting and kept trying something else until i just replicated the other one with less details, nothing smart i just thought it would fit her (no melted keys, she doesnt like stabbing herself anymore)

anything else...........she has a fang........ uhhh....she ripped off the oversleeves as a get back from the guy who took played with a chain on her hat while she was half awake or smthin idk still hasnt fleshed it out properly........ she is the worlds renowned owner of the most split ends (and she will finger brush through all of the knots with pride god damnit).........uhhhshe doesnt looking at mirrors.......ive made a fanfic about that....i may have realised i have a weird sense of aesthetic attraction to her.....this is a repost cuz i didnt like how little it was but now i have ensnared myself in only 2 doodles per canvas.......i am very irresponsible about my storage space but what else is new....... tam appeared right before me in my dreams................ i have taken 20 screenshots of the updated lore document of the transcribed conco between her john........ yeah thats it

theres probs more ive missed or havent come up with but thats enough words for today,

if you actually soaked in everything ive read um thanks, watch this be outdated within 3 days or hideaway makes me hide away all of my headcanons that has been conjured since december.

k byeeee

[paddysol]

i was rewatching some of spokes uu videos

[sforzesco]

revisiting crassus, clodius, and the bona dea scandal! but this time with a new composition and a limited color palette

originally when I drew the first version of this idea, it was back when I thought that crassus would be a week long fixation at most (lmao), and instead he just. took up permanent residence in my mind. it seemed like a fun thing to go back to an earlier idea and see what changed now that I've spent a lot more time with everyone involved in this era!

also the way these two interlocked politically. I am. biting into it.

The Defeat of Rome: Crassus, Carrhae and the Invasion of the East, Gareth C. Sampson

Crassus: the First Tycoon, Peter Stothard

Crassus: A Political Biography, B. A. Marshall

Crassus, Clodius, and Curio in the Year 59 B.C., Robert J Rowland, Jr.

bsky ⭐ pixiv ⭐ pillowfort ⭐ cohost

[winepresswrath]

sudden yearning for time travelling teen jiang fengmian lands at lotus pier fic that winds up being about a perfectly nice kid having a varying series of "oh no. i don't like that. that's a lot" reactions.

[normal-nightmare]

I'll probably be attacked for this lol but honestly at this point, I wish jaydick would become canon. Way more preferable to dickbabs and... honestly any other Dick ship (or maybe I'm just REALLY picky).

I mean... it's practically canon in Gotham Knights already. Why not go for making it canon in the comics too LOL

[necrotic-nephilim]

"I don't care how much you hate me - you need to eat!"

DickTim during Bruce's Lost In Time phase but with Dick stopping Tim from leaving💕

send a quote and a ship and I'll write a short fic!

fucked up DickTim during Bruce's lost in time era my beloved. this is 2k of *very* dead dove DickTim, with one-sided feelings from Dick and unreliable narrator vibes. it is a smidge OOC, just bc of how dark Dick gets, but i think i kept it best i could. enjoy <3

It wasn’t supposed to go this far.

Dick thought he was doing this to honor Bruce. The last thing Bruce would’ve wanted was to see Tim drive himself over the edge and go too far, all for a fruitless chase to bring Bruce back from the dead. And sure, maybe deep down Dick knew he reflected some of Bruce’s worst traits. The obsessive control. The worrying to the point of being overbearing.

It came with the capes and spandex territory. Especially now that Dick had decided to man up and put on that damned cowl.

But even at Bruce’s worst, Dick was pretty sure he wouldn’t dare go this far.

Dick knew it was wrong. What he didn’t know was why he couldn’t stop himself. Why the gnawing guilt was so easy to compartmentalize and why every good point Tim had got ignored by Dick’s logical side, brushed off by one simple mantra.

He was doing this for Tim’s own good.

All of this was to protect Tim from doing something he would regret.

Dick had done brain scans, had Tim magically checked up, and even managed to get him to properly talk to a psychiatrist. Everything came back normal. Tim was perfectly healthy.

So maybe this was something that had always been a part of Tim. Maybe it was a bad idea for any of them to have let Tim into the vigilante world so young.

Some people could handle it. Some people couldn’t. Dick had seen firsthand how it broke minds and ruined lives. He’d seen people turn to drugs, cults, murder, and god knew what else just to try to cope with it.

That didn’t make Tim weak. Tim Drake was the furthest thing from weak, and Dick would fight anyone on that.

This was just a hard life to cope with. Sometimes, people needed support through the worst of it.

That’s what Dick was doing.

Giving support.

“I don’t care how much you hate me- you need to eat!” Dick stepped back, dodging Tim’s attempt to kick his feet out. The bowl of salad Dick had set next to Tim was completely ignored.

Dick had learned not to give Tim hot food after Tim flung potato soup at his head the first time, chunks of potato stuck to his hair.

Tim’s scowl was lethal. Technically, he wasn’t restrained. He could move freely around the manor and do whatever he wanted.

It was the shock collar that kept him from leaving the grounds or breaking into the Batcave.

Dick had decided that would be the most humane way. The shock was only momentarily painful, it was designed to knock Tim unconscious if he tried to get somewhere he wasn’t supposed to. The collar had taken three tries before Dick found a lock Tim couldn’t pick, and a few more unfortunate incidents of Tim finding weak spots in the barrier.

But Dick always found Tim and brought him back home.

That was what was important.

The fact Tim kept trying to break out and go to god knew where on some fruitless quest to find a dead man made Dick more secure about this decision.

He was doing this to protect Tim. Once Tim worked through the worst of his grief, all this would be in the past. Something they would laugh at.

Hopefully.

It was like one of Tim’s contingency plans. Really, he of all people should understand.

But he didn’t. Which was what hurt Dick the most, the angry look in Tim’s eyes and the way his fists clenched when Dick came into Tim’s room. Tim had access to the whole manor, but he stuck mostly to his room, refusing to talk to anyone.

Especially Dick.

And now, it seemed, his latest tactic was a hunger strike.

“I’ll let you look over the burglary case we’re working on,” Dick offered. “I’ll bring you all the files and your computer if you just…” he gestured to the salad, “eat something.”

That had worked, in the beginning. Dick could coax good behavior out of Tim by offering to let Tim help with whatever case Dick was facing. It took a load off of Dick’s back and gave Tim something to focus on.

Of course, Dick couldn’t leave Tim’s computer with him. The first time Dick did that, Tim managed to break all of the firewalls and safeties put on it to start a case file about Bruce. Dick had to delete everything and only allow Tim monitored access from that point on.

After that, Tim really didn’t like Dick.

“Can’t you just go back to ignoring me?” Tim snapped. He sounded… resigned. Emotionless in a way he hadn’t been, like all the fight he’d been putting up for weeks was finally going out.

“Ignoring you?” Dick frowned. He felt like he’d been punched in the gut at the words. He kept a wide berth from Tim, wary of more punches being thrown, and decided to sit at Tim’s desk chair, a good few feet from where Tim was on his bed. “What makes you think I’m ignoring you?”

Tim scoffed and rolled his eyes. “You only talk to me to ask if I’ve dropped the Bruce thing yet, or to try to force self-care on me. The rest of the time you ignore me so you don’t have to face your own guilt.”

Dick violently shook his head. “That’s not-” he sighed, running a hand over his face- “I’m just busy, I promise. Between being Batman, managing Bruce’s estate, and trying to handle Damian, I just…” his voice trailed off. So many things to balance. He still didn’t know how Bruce managed it all. “I haven’t made enough time for you. I’m sorry.”

He decided to take on the burden of helping Tim. It was his responsibility and Tim was right, Dick was doing a piss poor job of taking care of him.

No wonder he pushed away Dick’s attempts to reconcile. It must’ve come across as half-assed, in Tim’s eyes.

Dick wished Bruce was here. He would’ve known the right way to handle this.

“Don’t start now,” Tim said icily. He picked up a book from his nightstand and opened it, pointedly not looking at Dick anymore. “Just leave me alone.”

“Will you eat first?” Dick asked. “If you just eat, I’ll go. I promise.”

With a loud sigh, Tim snapped his book shut. He picked up the salad Dick brought and shoveled down mouthfuls, all while glaring at Dick. Once the bowl was empty he set it back down and spread his hands, waiting.

Dick didn’t leave.

He wasn’t going to abandon Tim.

Dick stood up and Tim relaxed for just a moment before he realized Dick was walking toward Tim’s bed instead of the door. Slowly, like he was approaching a wild animal, Dick crept forward. He chose to sit on the foot of the bed, still far enough away from Tim to give him personal space.

“Tim-”

“Out. Now. You promised.”

Dick ran his fingers through his hair. “I know, but-”

“What do you want from me?” Tim almost yelled the words. “Do you want me to just say I don’t believe Bruce is alive? Will you finally leave me alone, then?”

“Can you say it under a truth serum?”

Tim went quiet, grinding his jaw.

“I want you to get better,” Dick sighed.

“What happens when I get better, then?” Tim challenged. He moved to sit cross-legged on the bed. So close to Dick that Dick could reach out and touch him, but emotionally, they were miles apart and it hurt Dick’s chest. “You ‘fix me’-” he put finger quotes around the words- “to your liking, then set me free?”

“Don’t talk about yourself like you’re an animal.” Dick frowned, fist clenching at the idea Tim thought of himself that way.

Tim just stared at him. “Then don’t treat me like one.” He raised a hand and tapped the collar.

It looked like it had new scratch marks on it.

“That’s not what I’m doing,” Dick said. He tried to find the words. It was so hard to explain it when Tim wasn’t listening to him. He wasn’t even given a chance. Dick tried to reach out. For once, Tim didn’t pull away. He was completely rigid under Dick’s touch, though. His hand rested on Tim’s arm, thumb stroking back and forth. “You know I’m doing this because… because I’m worried about you. And I care, Tim.”

“No you don’t,” Tim leaned away from Dick, but didn’t pull his arm free. “Whatever version of me exists in your head-”

“Tim-”

“-isn’t real,” Tim ignored him and kept going. “You won’t even listen to my theory-”

“Tim!” Dick tightened his grip, ignoring the small wince of pain that came out of Tim. “I’m not entertaining that kind of talk.” He tried to be firm but loving with his tone. But even Dick could hear the anger and frustration that was bleeding off of him. “This is practically self harm.”

“I know I’m right,” Tim mumbled. He wouldn’t look at Dick. “Will you just leave, now?”

Against his better judgment, Dick stood up. He had to patrol soon. “I’m sorry. We’ll talk after-”

“I’m going to sleep,” Tim snapped. “No, we won’t.”

Dick tried to throw his hands up in frustration, but he was still holding onto Tim’s arm.

He didn’t want to let go.

He knew Tim was waiting for him to let go, but Dick couldn’t force his fingers to release. He just stared for a moment, breathing hard.

Dick was doing this out of love.

And now, he loved Tim too much to want to let go of him.

Did he have to patrol tonight? He was pretty sure the Birds of Prey were in Gotham.

“Dick,” Tim said carefully, starting to scoot away from him. The apprehension in his voice was unsteady, eyes narrowed. He was always too on edge. “I’m tired. Just go on patrol.”

Instead of letting go, Dick lifted his other hand and held Tim’s face. Tim flinched but stopped inching away. He was completely still, barely even breathing.

He looked afraid of Dick.

Dick’s chest clenched. He wished he could get Tim to understand. Dick leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Tim’s forehead.

He wanted to kiss somewhere else, somewhere a few inches lower and just as unobtainable. That was a feeling Dick buried deep, deep inside of him.

It wasn’t why he was doing this.

A hand pressed against Dick’s chest. Trying to push Dick away, but for just a moment, the pressure and warmth almost made Dick shudder. Tim hadn’t properly trained in a while.

He wasn’t actually strong enough to push Dick off of him. If Dick wanted to, Tim couldn’t have stopped him.

But their relationship was already fractured. It would take a long time of repairing and letting Tim heal before Dick could even try pursuing those feelings.

Tim had once had a childhood crush on Dick, though. So he was pretty sure they could work their way up to it, be something more.

Dick pulled away. He let go of Tim’s arm and allowed himself one stroke of Tim’s hair. It was getting a little long, brushing against Tim’s shoulders.

The entire time, Tim remained perfectly still. But his eyes got wider and wider, the way they always did when he had just figured out a case.

Dick was getting too close. He needed to pull back.

“You still have the spare comm link?” Dick asked.

Tim didn’t answer. He just kept staring with those wide, searching eyes. He looked a little pale. Dick should get him some iron supplements, Tim becoming anemic is the last thing Dick wanted.

“Use it if you need me for anything,” Dick continued. He gave Tim what he hoped was a calming smile. “Get some sleep, Tim. I love you.”

He turned and walked out of Tim’s room. Slowed to crawl at a snail’s pace, hoping for an answer from Tim. He would take any kind of answer.

But Tim kept silent, even as Dick took his time intentionally, slowly closing the door. Dick just sighed, turning down the hall to head down to the Batcave.

Someday, he’d get through to Tim. Dick would find a way.

Someday soon.