#dont you just love him.. existing

[haunted-xander]

Well, I guess you didn't have much of a choice either

[dizzybizz]

ms jay herself (and apple)

[starry-bi-sky]

Clone^2 - Separation Strikes

"Why do I have to go?" Damian asks, surly and accent-thick, it sounds more like a demand and a whine at the same time. Sitting on the kitchen table with his arms crossed, in a green t-shirt that Danny bought him at a whim when he was at a thrift shop, and black shorts, he's never looked more like a kid. There's a little backpack leaning against the table leg, Damian begrudgingly picked it out when they went shopping.

His English has grown in leaps and bounds since Danny found him -- er, or more accurately; since Damian was spat out in front of him. -- and very little did they have to use the translator on Danny's phone these days.

Which meant one thing: Damian can start attending school comfortably now. And 'go' was the Amity Smiles Child Care Center. Danny and Jazz went as kids until they were twelve, and Mom and Dad actually managed to convince the center director to let Damian enroll for the summer.

And it was summer; Damian starts today.

"Because," Danny says, trying and failing to hide the smile pulling on his face, his heart warm and soft, and also laughing at Damian's expense; "being cooped up in the house all day isn't good for you, and you're starting school in the Fall. And, in Jazz's words: you need to have interactions with other kids your age for the benefit of your social development. And besides, it's only for the morning."

Damian's nose scrunches up, and his eyes roll so violently that for a moment, Danny thinks about joking that he'll get his eyes stuck like that. He holds his tongue; his little brother already looks like he's five seconds away from committing an act of violence.

"I don't need social interaction." Damian sneers, his cheek in his hand; a neverend pool of pride. "I am--"

"The Blood of the Demon Heir, better than everyone else." Danny cuts off, waving his hand in dismissive circles, his voice mockingly deep. Damian's brown skin darkens in embarrassment, and he scowls at Danny. "I know, bud. But Jazz is right, -- don't tell her I said that, -- you should be around kids your age."

Especially when he starts First Grade in the Fall. Honestly -- Danny was a little nervous to send him to the center. Damian's long since cut the habit of trying to kill or otherwise maim people, his palms ache-burn with gentle reminder, but his tongue was as sharp and as cutting as his sword. He still struggles with trying to quell it when he's upset. Vicious child-weapon that he once was, and will never be again.

Danny knows that it comes from a place of fear and defense, that Damian lashes out because that's what he's been taught. That at the end of the day, he doesn't really mean what he says, and he's learning to express himself better. But the other kids don't know that, and kids can be unforgiving and cruel.

Danny just...

His slow beating heart sighs, melancholy settles behind his lungs.

He doesn't want Damian to be outcasted. He doesn't want him to be alone.

Not like he was.

Damian sneers again, but says nothing, his shoulders crawling up to hide his ears like a turtle receding into his shell. Danny watches him silently, leaning against the kitchen counter with his own arms crossed. The clock hanging on the wall ticks in their ears -- it's almost time to go.

He watches Damian, careful, and so he sees it when his little brother's stone-shell pride and petulance shudders, and cracks. The darkened furrow of Damian's brows weakens, and for a moment, slants back.

Ah, Danny thinks, his own shoulders slumping. Epiphany washes over him, and his sad-heart soothes in warm understanding. So that's what it is.

His head tilts, and his hair spills over his shoulders, messy and fluffy, tickling his neck. Some of his bangs fall into his face. "Hal 'ant easabiatan ya habibi?" He asks, voice low and soft. Just as Damian's English has improved, so has Danny's Arabic. He still stumbles over himself some days, and Damian says his accent is trash, but they can have whole conversations now in Damian's mothertongue.

(Danny was incredibly proud of himself for it.)

Damian's face darkens, his blush spreading across the rest of his face, and he ducks his head down. Grown-out curls, black-brown and springy, falls over his eyes. "La!" He yells, loud and indignant, and not at all convincingly. "La 'asheur bialtawaturi!"

He was nervous. Danny can see it now, in the hunch of his shoulders and the tightness of his face, and faintly, he can feel it too. In the ecto-rich air of the Fentonworks House, it thrums, barely-there, like a hummingbird behind his lungs.

Danny can't stop the little, fond smile that forces itself across his lips and upticks the corner of his mouth. "It's okay to be nervous, little brother." He says, he sounds like Jazz when he says that. He doesn't think she'll mind him borrowing the nickname.

He pushes himself off the counter, and Damian refuses to look at him, hiding behind his hair and in his shoulders. It takes three long strides for him to reach the table, and Danny turns, plants his hands on the ledge, and hoists himself up. Right next to Damian.

Damian leans into him easily when Danny's arm wraps around his shoulders and tucks him close to his heart. He can feel his ear against his ribs. Danny hunches over him, resting his chin on Damian's head. "It's so okay to be nervous, actually. I was nervous, Jazz was nervous." He tells him, scratching the blunt edge of his nails across his scalp. "Everyone gets nervous."

"'Ana last aljumiea." Damian mumbles, as small and feeble as he was the night on the OPS Center balcony, realizing that his mom and the League weren't coming for him. Realizing that he was replaceable.

Danny's half-working heart squeezes; in grief, in rage, and his faucet eyes sting. He breathes in carefully, and presses his nose into Damian's hair in a loving faux-kiss. "You're right, you're not everyone." He says, steady and strong, because if he's not a pillar for his family, who else is he?

He can feel Damian's eyes flick up to him, and Danny smiles into his black-brown curls. Tilts his head to squish his cheek against him instead, hand dropping to thumb below Damian's lashes. "You're Damian Fenton," Because the adoption went through a few weeks ago, and he's still riding that high, "You're my baby brother. O' Artist Extraordinaire, Kickass with a Sword, Vegetarian and Wonderful Co-Ghost Hunter."

Damian tries to stifle a smile, and fails. Score! Triumph gathers in Danny's gut, his smile grows wider. He squeezes Damian tight, and only releases him so he can look him in the eyes. "And if anyone gives you a hard time at school, and I mean anyone--"

Danny has bad memories of the teachers looking the other way when the other kids were bullying him, all because he was a Fenton.

And Danny, bleeding heart, bleeding hands, loves his family more than he will ever love himself, will never let Damian experience the same injustice. Not if he can help it.

His eyes narrow, and the buzzy-film of ectoplasm covers his eyes, making them glow, "--You tell me. And as your awesome great big brother-and-technically-dad-but-only-biologically, I will handle it."

Damian, wonderfully made, full of light, his little brother Damian, giggles weakly at him. A sound that's worth it's weight in gold. The scary eyes dissipate, and Danny matches the sound with a cock-eyed, impish grin, dragging Damian into a soul-crushing, too-tight hug. The kind that only annoying older brothers can give. "Got it?"

That gets a proper, if short, laugh out of Damian. He wriggles in Danny's arms, trying to break free. But Danny does calisthenics, his arms are as big as Damian's head, so it doesn't work. "Understood, now, daeni 'adhhab ya 'akhi!"

Danny laughs, loud and bright, and loosens his hold just a smidge, only so he can adjust his grip and hop off the table with Damian still in arm.

"Never!" He crows, hoisting Damian slightly. One eye flick at the clock, and in one quick move, he secures Damian under one arm like a football, and hooks his foot under the strap of his backpack. Kicking it up, he tosses it into the air and catches it with his free hand, and slings it over his shoulder. "Now, to the car, my boy! Before we're late and Mom and Dad get charged."

Damian groans, childish and dramatic and long, but his face is all squished up with a wide grin and glee. Danny can taste his joy beneath his tongue.

"And, if my little pep talk didn't encourage you," He says, reaching the door to the garage, flipping Damian up onto his hip instead. "If you have a good day today, I'll make you bal mithai when you get back."

Like all kids at the promise of sweets, Damian's eyes widen and glitter. Danny loves seeing Damian be a kid, it's his favorite thing in the world. "I will!"

[xxplastic-cubexx]

If you were to like redesign Magneto's classic outfit in a way that both suits the character and your own tastes, how would you redesign it?

uhhhh errrmmmmm i dont know i really couldnt improve upon perfection but i have still tried for you my friend !!!

[moeblob]

Impulsively shoving a guy's hand in your mouth after having the thought "oh just like when my little sister used to prick herself on a rose thorn" and then immediately being treated like a pet who ate something they shouldn't have? Wonderful. Thank you, Thane.

(also not pictured is Thane apparently trying to scrape your tongue with his hand BEFORE pouring the holy water down your throat because NO. BAD.)

[mleemwyvern]

is zedaph really about to get involved in a war? ZED??

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

I just pictured this for the light arts au

Wally: go here.

Frank: into the dark?

Wally: go into the dark.

LMFAO PERFECTION, THAT MEME WAS MADE FOR THIS AU-

[froschli96]

Assassin's Creed Revelations be like

[scullcrusher101xd]

rusty and hatred volume 1

[melaniepilled]

i know the fandom loves to pretend that xie lian doesn't take care of himself but let's really think about it for a second. he doesn't have a penny to his name, he has no luck, no spiritual powers and no friends and family left in the mortal realm. how exactly should he take care of himself?

he eats food off the floor because it's better than going hungry. that's how many people in poverty live. he doesn't think twice before touching something that might poison him because when you don't receive medical attention for centuries, you're naturally going to adopt an "it is what it is" mentality about your health. he probably didn't get treated by a healer the first few times he got corpse poisoning because he didn't have enough (or any) money to pay them with. he's humble and ignores however which way he's slandered because what can he do? he's heard things like that and worse before.

800 years of poverty will teach anyone humility as well as strip them of it. 800 years of poverty and solitude can make anyone into a complete cynic, an abuser and/or worse.

but xie lian didnt break, not permanently. what jun wu put him through is nothing compared to what the world put him through. tell me this: is jun wu truly the real villain of the story? or is he a micro manifestation of all the other systematic issues in the TGCF universe, wrapped up into a shiny, evil package that's easier to hate, easier to digest and easier to fall for?

know that even though jun wu "set up" the fall of xianle, it was corruption and imperialism that truly brought the kingdom to its knees. know that teen xie lian truly fought for his people, be they patriots or rebels, and that the reason his efforts could never come to fruition was the corruption of the royals and the nobles.

in a world as systematically corrupt as that (much like our own), how easy do you think it would have been for a poor, homeless and friendless man to live a happy, fulfilling life (which he never lived)? and how much easier would it have been for him to gradually give away his morals and principles in favour of a better meal for once, for a better bed for the night? considering his martial skills and vast knowledge of cultivation, would it not have been easy for him to take a path like jun wu himself? like xue yang, even?

and do you think that xie lian did *not* do all these things just because he had "self-sacrificial" tendencies? after centuries of being only a little better than a beggar, do you think the reason he wants to help the common people is because he feels Rich Prince Guilt?

don't you think that the act of preserving oneself here, the act of not sacrificing onself for a cause, is actually whenever xie lian decides to keep following the path of justice, his Third Path? does self preservation only count when it's your body you're preserving, or your material wealth, or your name? surely your own principles matter more. surely you mean more than a fancy title on a tyrant's mouth.

place yourself in xie lian's shoes, and answer this: if you were to go through all that, even if you were to not become a horrible person, would have found and maintained the courage, time and time again, to keep being kind, to keep taking care of yourself, to not become heedlessly reckless, to not become a walking corpse with a noose (ruoye) wrapped around your neck?

in my opinion, xie lian is a hell of a lot positive for a man who's been through so much and never heard a "it's okay, you can rest now" once (until hua cheng came along, at least).

do you think xie lian doesn't feel bitterness towards lang qianqiu, who buried him with a stake through his heart for gods know how many years, because he just... hates himself? or do you think it's because he helped raise lang qianqiu since childhood and earned real respect and admiration from him, after so many years of being spat on, cursed and ultimately turned invisible? do you think he begged to be banished once again only because he felt guilty (although yes, he did feel very guilty) for the terrible fate that befell lqq's family, or because he also genuinely cares about what happens to his people --- he protected the xianle remnants by setting himself up as a cold-hearted murderer, and he protected lqq by refusing to fight him.

do you think that being so old and having seen so much, xie Lian can't tell danger when it's looking him in the eye? he's not stupid. he doesn't neglect his safety until and unless it's to protect someone he cares about. e.g., when he tried his level best to protect shi qingxuan during the Blackwater arc, knowing that he's fighting things and people beyond his control. my point: it didn't matter if he failed. he had to try, just like he tried with his kingdom, and the kingdom that came next. sqx was the first person after hua cheng to befriend and defend him in a long time, and he wanted to show him the same courtesy. can this be reduced to "self-sacrificing" tendencies or "playing the hero", too?

when xie lian stepped out of that bridal sedan, he knew he was playing with fire, but he's not stupid. if he hadn't stepped out, who is to say that crimson rain sought flower wouldn't have entered on his own, or dragged him out forcefully? xie lian isn't a "you only live once, let's make bad decisions" person. xie lian is a "no matter how many lives i live, i will not change" person.

[harbingersecho]

[skitskatdacat63]

Roleswap anyone??

Tell me Fernando wouldn't make a fantastic general/emperor, and that Napoleon wouldn't make a fanastic driver/tp!!

[arosebyan0thername]

If there are a million Reeve Carney as Orpheus fans in the world, I am one of them. If there are only two Reeve Carney as Orpheus fans in the world, I am one of them (Eva Noblezada is the other). If there are no Reeve Carney as Orpheus fans in the world, Eva Noblezada and I are dead 😔

[heartofarcanum]

Oh my god

I am RABID. I am FERAL. I am CLIMBING THE WALLS.

[sasukeless]

just found your blog and having a blast scrolling through it thank you for sharing your very correct opinions with the world, very satisfying. now i'm curious (and sorry if you've talked about it before) what do you think of shisui?

basically

[bugwolfsstuff]

I just remembered that in universe Percy wrote Percy Jackson's greek gods (and heros)

So that means my man really looked at ALL TWO sources of the Dionysus and Ampelos myth BOTH OF WHICH REFER TO AMPELOS AS DIONYSUS' LOVER and really somehow went

'nah fam they're childhood buds'

Do you think that when Grover saw/heard that he did an entire ass double take

Because as a satyr and a satyr under DIONYSUS' rule there is no way Grover doesn't know that story and knows full well they weren't just friends

Anyways if Percy really looked at all that and called Ampelos and Dionysus best friends then I think we need to give Grovercy a chance