#is the word interesting

[alpacacare-archive]

Not to post knight papyrus on main or anything but

[everwalldigan]

Bruce: *waking up in a hospital that he drove himself to after having a heart attack and telling absolutely nobody* hey…

The entirety of the batclan looking over him with Dick in the centre, an absolute terrifying grin on his face:

Dick: hello Bruce, nice evening isn’t it? Got something to share with us?

Edit: the fic is now out on ao3! https://archiveofourown.org/works/57780508

[artistotel]

hey! for todays protest, i made this little zine about palestine (holding just simple and basic information).

you can download the zine here, fold it yourself, and distribute it around.

no credit is needed. feel free to leave it around bars, protests, or wherever. simply print it (borderless) and fold it. here is a tutorial on how to do it.

dont stay silent. there is a genocide of horrendous, atrocious proportions going on. also if you are a zionist here to argue with me, i dont plan to entertain you at all, not on my art blog. fuck off, you'll be swiftly blocked. i see enough of you clowns on my main and i have no energy for you. you can skip the death threats too bc i dont give a shit.

(i'm off to get ready for a surgery now, i just wanted to post it before this. if you need anything, i might take a bit to reply)

[oobbbear]

I want to post this here too because I’ve seen it happen a few times

Please understand that there are cultural differences and language differences, if you see this happening let the person clarify what they meant, that person might just not be familiar with words the western side of the internet use

[inkskinned]

i love when words fit right. seize was always supposed to be that word, and so was jester. tuesday isn't quite right but thursday should be thursday, that's a good word for it. daisy has the perfect shape to it, almost like you're laughing when you say it; and tulip is correct most of the time. while keynote is fun to say, it's super wrong - i think they have to change the label for that one. but fox is spot-on.

most words are just, like, good enough, even if what they are describing is lovely. the night sky is a fine term for it but it isn't perfect the way november is the correct term for that month.

it's not just in english because in spanish the phrase eso si que es is correct, it should be that. sometimes other languages are also better than the english words, like how blue is sloped too far downwards but azul is perfect and hangs in the air like glitter. while butterfly is sweet, i think probably papillion is more correct, although for some butterflies féileacán is much better. year is fine but bliain is better. sometimes multiple languages got it right though, like how jueves and Πέμπτη are also the right names for thursday. maybe we as a species are just really good at naming thursdays.

and if we were really bored and had a moment and a picnic to split we could all sit down for a moment and sort out all the words that exist and find all the perfect words in every language. i would show you that while i like the word tree (it makes you smile to say it), i think arbor is correct. you could teach me from your language what words fit the right way, and that would be very exciting (exciting is not correct, it's just fine).

i think probably this is what was happening at the tower of babel, before the languages all got shifted across the world and smudged by the hand of god. by the way, hand isn't quite right, but i do like that the word god is only 3 letters, and that it is shaped like it is reflecting into itself, and that it kind of makes your mouth move into an echoing chapel when you cluck it. but the word god could also fit really well with a coathanger, and i can't explain that. i think donut has (weirdly) the same shape as a toothbrush, but we really got bagel right and i am really grateful for that.

grateful is close, but not like thunder. hopefully one day i am going to figure out how to shape the way i love my friends into a little ceramic (ceramic is very good, almost perfect) pot and when they hold it they can feel the weight of my care for them. they can put a plant in there. maybe a daisy.

[divorcedwife]

i love the idea of a god of tyranny so i designed my girl as the chosen of bane. inspired by the bane worshippers of bg3, roman emperors, and greek tragedy actors

[vriskan8or]

let her go

[sakuravalelp]

Phantom letters - DPXDC PROMPT

The bats wake up one day to the internet going crazy; people around the world were getting letters from they're diseased loved ones. The reactions are mixed, from people being outraged for the "prank" to people crying in melancholy at getting closure.

All the letters have something in common: They're closed with a green sealing wax that had an stylize DP and the name Phantom beneath it. Posts about the cards were using the # Phantom Letters.

The bats are discussing the viral posts in the cave when Alfred comes holding a basket filled with letters, announcing they were left at the doors. The letters had the sealing wax that they recognize from the posts. Checking the cameras they can see how they glitch before the basket appears.

Alfred starts to distribute the letters that had only one destinatary. Letters from each Thomas and Martha to both Bruce and Alfred. Letters from each John and Mary to Dick. A letter from Catherine to Jason. A letter from the Drake's to Tim, and another one to Bruce.

Once they had calmed down enough from the shock, Alfred proceeded to read the shared recipients. From Thomas and Martha to "The grandchildren we never got to meet." From John and Mary to "the family that took our little Robin in." Letters from Catherine to "My little boys family." The letters were directed to people the deceased didn't get to meet.

As much as the mere existence of the letters tugged at their hearts, they decided to not read them until they verified that the handwriting actually belong to the ones it claimed. They checked each letter, and in the end confirmed the letters were in fact from they're lost love ones.

After much discussion, each person makes the decision to read they're own letters later in private, and they proceed to read the ones that shared recipients out loud. The letter mentioned specifics like names and events that the deceased shouldn't have been able to know, including they're vigilante abilities, which had them pause each time to panic a bit. But what was more interested were certain pieces of the letters that mentioned a Prince Phantom.

"Prince Phantom said to don't mention things past our death, but it wasn't a command, so we're hoping this won't be much of a problem." - John and Mary

"I still can't believe Prince Phantom is letting us do this, but I'm so glad." - Catherine

It finally paints the mystery in a more concerning light when at the end of Thomas and Martha's letter there is a call for help.

"We're sorry for ending the letter on a serious tone, but seeing the kind of job you all get involved in, we wanted to ask: Could you please help Prince Phantom? Phantom had asked us to not give information about this, but he's so young, and has already been hurt so much. Please, check on Amity Park, Illinois."

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Meanwhile, team Phantom has decided that they needed to get the news about the GIW out of Amity and ask for help. Two problems:

the GIW blocks any technological attempt made.

People might be afraid to learn that ghosts exist and side with the GIW.

As a way to deal with the public image, Phantom opens a possibility that the death have never had:

"All afterlives are open to write letters to their love ones that are still alive today. Nothing that includes threats, and don't go talking about the anti-ecto acts or Amity Park yet, we're trying to ease people into our existence first. Also, I know you all check on your love ones when the veil is thin, but please keep the things you shouldn't know out of the letters if possible. If you want your letter to be sent in the first batch, make sure to deliver your letter before the week ends."

Letters are a good way to reconnect people with the death, they aren't digital, and the GIW won't be able to intercept letters if they're send through inter-dimensional portals. Two birds in one shot.

[ghoulbats]

well….it finally happened

[candlebel]

I can't cry... I want to cry... I feel so much sorrow...

[shepscapades]

Your highness… I don’t feel so good

[uhcasual]

All illustrations for The Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation: Russian Edition Exclusives, Volume 5

Finally got my hands on the russian истари/Istari publication volume 5 for Mo Dao Zu Shi, so here are high resolution scans of the art exclusive to this particular edition. The art here portrays events that occur in the post-storyline extras.

Full resolution available for download here (tumblr compresses images a little)

Illustration Artist: Marina Privalova (Baoshan Karo)

[Vol. 1] - [Vol. 2] - [Vol. 3] - [Vol. 4] - [Vol. 5] (part 1)

[gobbogoo]

Who Is Scout's Ma?

She's a character we know extremely little about, however when you stop to consider the IMPLICATIONS of what little we DO know, things start to get interesting:

1. She lives in the roughest part of Boston ("if you were from where I was from, you'd be dead") but dresses quite elegantly.

2. She had 8 boys, all of whom she raised BY HERSELF, and yet somehow she finds the time to maintain this impeccable appearance.

3. Scout clearly loves and admires her to a point where it's one of the few things he'll drop his "tough guy" act for, and dialogue in the comics like "Ma's gonna kill me if she finds out" implies he also still fears her disapproval, despite being a fully autonomous adult.

4. Spy, despite what he likes to pretend, is clearly head-over-heels for her. He even had her likeness engraved on his fanciest gun! (Note the distinct hairband & hoop earrings) For a man who avoids attachment to the point where he never lets anyone see his face, that's an unusual degree of infatuation.

5. None of Scout's brothers left Boston while he was growing up, despite a few of them presumably being adults by then. Not only this, they were still all getting into fights together, implying they were both continuing to live with or near their mother and brothers, AND had reasons to brawl with others beyond just some adolescent street scuffle.

My Theory:

Scout's Ma is the matriarch of a Boston-based crime family.

It explains her elegant appearance, how she and Spy were able to meet, why their bond clearly goes beyond a one-off fling, why she was able to be in Scout's life so much despite the financial burdens of being a single mother of 8, and why all of said 8 were continuing to get into fights with other locals. They weren't just some street gang, they were enforcers. It also explains why/how Scout got into mercenary work, his many mafia-themed weapons, and why he continues to fear her ire even as an adult.

Plus, take a look at this unused angle of the last photo from Meet The Spy:

You'd THINK a single mother from the rough side of Boston wouldn't appear so in-her-element on a fancy date with The Spy, and yet her appearance and demeanour here just SCREAM "confident and in control."

Scout's Ma is Boston's Godmother, and I desperately wish to see someone draw her as such.

[tanadrin]

My most reactionary opinion is that a well-rounded education is actually a good idea, and you should in fact be forced to sit through subjects you aren’t necessarily interested in in school sometimes.

This is in substantial part nakedly self-interested: I see way too many people with an excessively one-sided education with absolutely nonsense dogshit takes on fields outside their experience, and I would prefer if there was less of that sort of thing in the future.

[juniemunie]

[Abandoned by the Lightners, his heart became cracked with hatred.]

Hitting a lil' too close to home?

[auspicioustidings]

No second location, that was the mantra that had been drilled into your head. So when a man bullied his way into your passenger seat, put a gun to your head and told you to drive, you did that. When he told you to take the next cut off you did not.

"Naw think I'll shoot ye?"

"Think if you do we're doing 80 and we're both meeting a quick end."

It's night time, quiet motorway that stretches for hours and hours. He laughs in disbelief after the initial plan to intimidate you fails. You can't keep driving forever, but he is fascinated by the attempt.

One hour in and you know each others names. He knows what music you like, knows you're single, that you have a cat. You know this is the first time he's brought a girl back (or has tried to at least), that he's the youngest in his team and this is an initiation of sorts. He connects his phone so he can blast his music. "Naw dying in a blaze of glory to fuckin' showtunes sweetheart."

You scream at one point, raw fury. He screams with you, whooping as you pick up speed and hit 100 in a moment of blind emotion before you slow a little again. He's touching you, a hand running down your body as he whispers filth into your ear. You give him nothing, act unaffected as your hands grip the wheel so tight they are turning pale.

There's a phone call. One of his team.

"As beautiful as you'd be dead, your pretty corpse is of fuck all use if it's burned to a crisp in a fireball."

"Oh, I don't talk about necrophilia until the second date."

"Fuck LT ye should see her. Spitting mad, think she might actually kill herself just tae take me with her."

Soap groans the words out, hard over the idea of dying in this car with you, throbbing with the knowledge that maybe you hate him so much you're willing to give up your life to spite him.

There are other team members, you try and block it all out. You are crying with frustration because soon the motorway will run out. Maybe you'll just drive straight to a police station, but then Price who you think may be their leader tells you that if his boy goes to jail, he may as well do it for murder.

"Soap'll blow your pretty brains right out of your skull luv, now pull off at the next exit and follow directions."

"Isn't it apparent by now that I'd rather die?"

"If that were true you'd have crashed 100 miles back."

He's right. You don't want to die. You really do not want to die. Over the last few hours you've developed an aversion to Soap dying as well. He's crazy, certifiably insane, but the danger of him is the kind of danger that comes with the flood of adrenaline that borders on erotic with how strong it is. You're sort of attached, trauma bonded maybe.

But the mantra persists. No second location.

Soap grins wildly when he sees how you relax, how your eyes fill with resignation. He can see what you're going to do. So he kisses you, tongue trying to bury itself as far into your mouth as possible.

"Let's dae it baby."

So you do. You bank hard right and the car goes flying, tumbling over and over into a field. You don't know how you survive it, but the next thing you know you are in the back of an ambulance. The police question what happened once you're stable in the hospital. You tell them everything. Psychotic break they think, suicide attempt. After all, yours was the only body in that car when they got there.