#just me rambling in the night

[snowfolly]

Sometimes I think about Astarion’s (10) charisma and it makes me so sad because (as a person not blessed with any sort of natural charisma whatsoever) I know how tiring and stressful it is to ‘switch on’ and play along to seem charming and make conversation with strangers in real life situations. It’s incredibly mentally draining (which in turn is physically exhausting) and Astarion has had to do this every night for 200 years. 

200 years.

Putting on a mask and turning on charm-mode with strangers a handful of times a month (along with liquid courage to help) is bad enough… but every single night for 2 centuries?

He was a magistrate and definitely had the skills to deal with people, but that doesn’t mean that he had to be pleasant to them. In fact he was likely a harsh judge (going by the screenshot from Act 3 below, as well as his sentencing of the Gur which essentially got him ‘killed’), and due to some of the things he says he was likely an asshole whilst doing the judging, and possibly an insufferable asshole at that. (For example, referring to Gur people in derogatory terms in general, how he dismisses the lives of the captured gnomes in Grymforge but held the Drow (Nere’s)  life in esteem etc.) (Also to be clear, none of his past remotely warrants what happens to him)

[Astarion: Mercy? Please - justice should be a harsh lesson. All the better to deter the next vagabond.]

With this lack of people pleasing skills I can only imagine how Cazador (or fucking Godey) would have tortured him for not being alluring enough when he’s first learning to navigate the absolute horror story of a reality he’d found himself thrown into. Cazador very likely didn’t choose him to be a spawn for his charisma, he chose Astarion for his looks alone and then proceeded to punish him for not having the personality to charm people efficiently, for not being agreeable or enchanting enough to garner a victim's trust to lure them back to the palace.

I think about how he would say the lines that he (very quickly) had to learn of what people wanted to hear over and over in his head, picturing how he should act, when to smile and laugh, where to touch a hand or arm when appropriate and ultimately how to use himself for seduction as he laid on the cold stone floors in the dirty kennel, staring at the dark ceiling, his new vampiric hunger insatiable as he was being starved, beaten, belittled. Hopeless.

And so he did learn, because his survival depended on it.

He survived for 200 years.

I think about all of this a lot.

[crowkip]

yeehaw, baby!

[goldensunset]

did you know? if you do your laundry you can get your clothes back

[cheesybadgers]

I know this has been discussed a lot already, but I still cannot believe how easy it was in the end to establish so much character development in just a handful of scenes that the show actively had to go out of its way to avoid for years when it was on Fox.

And I can’t stop thinking about this moment:

This feels like such a pivotal realisation in Eddie’s mind, where he not only stops denying himself things he wants in the moment but he’s now open to the possibility of more in the future, even if it might not yet have fully clicked what that means for the relationship between him and Buck.

So many unspoken options are suddenly on the menu that simply weren’t available before and that door he thought was sealed? Buck makes the first move by ringing the bell, but Eddie is the one who lets him in with the full knowledge it’s Buck specifically he’s opening the door to and in the vulnerable state of being half-dressed. Then, of course, he accepts Buck’s beer after starting the day denying himself juice.

They may not be ready to talk/confess anything to each other, but to set up so much possibility and hope in a wordless facial expression after all this time is insane and I take my hat off to Ryan and the writers/director for conveying so much in just a couple of seconds now that they’ve finally been allowed the creative freedom to tell this story.

[dizzybizz]

"this is regrettably the best kiss of your life, you understand?"

[sainz100]

2024 Brazilian GP | x

[misc-obeyme]

Can we please take a moment to appreciate this latest chat photo?

I would make Solomon talk to every cat for me. Be my kitty translator I need to know all about that precious baby’s life.

Barbatos, darling, give me those books they look stupid heavy. He calls that paperwork in the chat.

I love them both so much it makes me silly.

[melit0n]

Some cryptid photos of Vessel (+ ii) that I've collected over the past week. The fact that almost all of them look like they came out of trail cam footage is absolutely sending me

[old-desert]

Inktobertale 2024 Day 5: Camping

Cross doesn't know that the first law of the multiverse is that there's nowhere Ink can't be.

[lazylittledragon]

isn't it weird how if you get up at 7 or 8, do your work all day, then have free time and go to bed at 11 that's absolutely fine

but if i said i get up at 10, do fun stuff in the morning then work in the evening and go to bed late, i could be called lazy, nevermind that i'm getting just as much or MORE work done as i would in a traditional work day

[false-guinevere]

Thinking rambly Thoughts about Athena and her genderfuckery and her relationships with Odysseus and Penelope.

Anyway I think it’d be neat if Athena functioned as both Odysseus’ wife and Penelope’s husband in each others absence (and also as a father to Telemachus). Not even necessarily in a romantic way, just a weirdly intimate but unknowable ThingTM they have going on with Athena

TFW your in a triad and one member is a virgin goddess whose definitely playing with you and your family’s lives like Barbie dolls

[weirdglassthing]

It’s IRONIC. god. Nobody understands satire humor these days

First attempt at drawing Gideon and Kremy went surprisingly well maybe I’m destined to become a scaly idk. You guys have no idea how hard it was finding a pose that was easy to draw with Kremy’s alligator mouth. I probably forgot like 400 fey curses I barely remembered gideons flower crown. I’m not drawing that thing but imagine the dulcet tones of the worlds greatest bard (morning Ross) playing in the background.

Guys you can’t blame me I just watched episode 15 and I was possessed and blacked out and woke up staring at this

Ft. Some drunk pixie wives and the only three people that cared about Thaco (I did not look up a reference I just drew a clown)

Anyways pose under cut

It had to be adjusted a bit

[xxplastic-cubexx]

what kind of underwear do you think Erik and Charles wear (i'm not asking this to see them half naked) ((please believe me)) (((PLEASE)))

My Personal Belief is charles is a briefs guy while erik's a trunks guy. trunks/briefs kinda couple because i can

and idk just a lil bonus or somethin. as i do.

[foldingfittedsheets]

One of my favorite adventures from my twenties was a trip I took alone up to Canada. Neil Gaiman was doing a reading for the release of Ocean at the End of the Lane, and I was living three hours south of the venue.

None of my friends could make it and it was before I had GPS but I decided to go by myself. The day before the event I had nightmares about being lost in Canada, but I woke up and still got in the car.

The drive was awful, and I clutched the printed out Mapquest directions like my life depended on it, lurching through stop and go traffic with my manual transmission car. But when I arrived I found parking easily. I had tried to be there early but between traffic and the border crossing I was barely on time.

When I got to the door it turned out there wasn’t any seating left. My face fell, and the lovely worker refused to let me go away disappointed. She snuck me into the area reserved for staff to watch the event.

I sat oddly isolated in the very back row, listening to Neil’s calm narration. Midway through a boy my age came over to join me. We chatted while the line moved to get things signed. He lived in China, and India, went to school in Scotland, and was here couch surfing just for this event.

He asked about my YouTube channel and I laughed and said I didn’t have one. He paused in confusion and said, “You should, you’re such a gifted storyteller!” Later his certainty that I had one made me imagine he was a multidimensional traveler and this iteration of me didn’t have a channel that he was familiar with on his world.

I got my copy of the book signed and we left together. We wandered the city at night, making our way toward the ocean. We were both surprised to have our way blocked not once but three times by skunks, wandering blithely through the metropolis.

We clambered over the breakers by the water, watching the boats and listening to the waves crash at our feet. I offered him a lift back to his couch and he agreed.

I got lost trying to find the way home, well off my printed directions. My nightmare had come true, but at 2am lost in a foreign city I had a feeling of serenity that everything would be okay.

I pulled up next to some mildly intoxicated guys walking along, asking if they knew the way. Later, relaying this story to my wife they were appalled by this decision. But a moment later a cop car interrupted us, clearly thinking something illegal was transpiring. I flashed my dimples and asked for directions and he set me back on the right path.

I only spent one night carousing, but I still think about that boy, hoping he’s doing well. I remember the surreal peace of the sleeping city, full of skunks and waves on the breakers.

[starry-bi-sky]

i need to get this out of my head before i continue clone^2 but danny being the first batkid. Like, standard procedure stuff: his parents and sister die, danny ends up with Vlad Masters. He drags him along to stereotypical galas and stuff; Danny is not having a good time.

He ends up going to one of the Wayne Galas being hosted ever since elusive Bruce Wayne has returned to Gotham. Vlad is crowing about having this opportunity as he's been wanting to sink his claws into the company for a long while now. Danny is too busy grieving to care what he wants.

And like most Galas, once Vlad is done showing him off to the other socialites and the like, he disappears. Off to a dark corner, or to one of the many balconies; doesn't matter. There he runs into said star of the show, Bruce who is still young, has been Batman for at least a year at this point, but still getting used to all these damn people and socializing. He's stepped off to hide for a few minutes before stepping back into the shark tank.

And he runs into a kid with circles under his eyes and a dull gleam in them. Familiar, like looking into a mirror.

Danny tries to excuse himself, he hasn't stopped crying since his parents died and it's been months. He rubs his eyes and stands up, and stumbles over a half-hearted apology to Mister Wayne. Some of Vlad's etiquette lessons kicking in.

Bruce is awkward, but he softens. "That's alright, lad," he says, pulling up some of that Brucie Wayne confidence, "I was just coming out here to get some fresh air."

There's a little pressing; Bruce asks who he's here with, Danny says, voice quiet and grief-stricken, that he's with his godfather Vlad Masters. Bruce asks him if he knows where he is, and Danny tells him he does. Bruce offers to leave, Danny tells him to do whatever he wants.

It ends with Bruce staying, standing off to the side with Danny in silence. Neither of them say a word, and Danny eventually leaves first in that same silence.

Bruce looks into Vlad Masters after everything is over, his interest piqued. He finds news about him taking in Danny Fenton: he looks into Danny Fenton. He finds news articles about his parents' deaths, their occupations, everything he can get his hands on.

At the next gala, he sees Danny again. And he looks the same as ever: quiet like a ghost, just as pale, and full of grief. Bruce sits in silence with him again for nearly ten minutes before he strikes a conversation.

"Do you like to do anything?"

Nothing. Just silence.

Bruce isn't quite sure what to do: comfort is not his forte, and Danny doesn't know him. He's smart enough to know that. So he starts talking about other things; anything he can think of that Brucie Wayne might say, that also wasn't inappropriate for a kid to hear.

Danny says nothing the entire time, and is again the first to leave.

Bruce watches from a distance as he intercts with Vlad Masters; how Vlad Masters interacts with him. He doesn't like what he sees: Vlad Masters keeps a hand on Danny's shoulder like one would hold onto the collar of a dog. He parades him around like a trophy he won.

And there are moments, when someone gets too close or when someone tries to shake Danny's hand, of deep possessiveness that flints over Vlad Masters' eyes. Like a dragon guarding a horde.

He plays the act of doting godfather well: but Bruce knows a liar when he sees one. Like recognizes like.

Danny is dull-eyed and blank faced the entire time; he looks miserable.

So Bruce tries to host more parties; if only so that he can talk to Danny alone. Vlad seems all too happy to attend, toting Danny along like a ribbon, and on the dot every hour, Danny slips away to somewhere to hide. Bruce appears twenty minutes later.

"I was looking into your godfather's company," he says one night, trying to think of more things to say. Some nights all they do is sit in silence. "Some of my shareholders were thinking of partnering up--"

"Don't."

He stops. Danny hardly says a word to him, he doesn't even look at him -- he's sitting on the ground, his head in his knees. Like he's trying to hide from the world. But he's looking, blue eyes piercing up at Bruce.

Bruce tilts his head, practiced puppy-like. "Pardon?"

"Don't." Danny says, strongly. "Don't make any deals with Vlad."

It's the most words Danny's spoken to him, and there's a look in his eyes like a candle finding its spark. Something hard. Bruce presses further, "And why is that?"

The spark flutters, and flushes out. Danny blinks like he's coming out of a trance, and slumps back into himself. "Just don't."

Bruce stares at him, thoughtful, before looking away. "Alright. I won't."

And they fall back into silence.

Danny, when he leaves, turns to look at Bruce, "I mean it." He says; soft like he's telling a secret, "Don't make any deals with him. Don't be alone with him. Don't work with him."

He's scampered away before Bruce can question him further.

(He never planned on working with Vlad Masters and his company; he's done his research. He's seen the misfortune. But nothing ever leads back to him. There's no evidence of anything. But Danny knows something.)

At their next meeting, Danny starts the conversation. It's new, and it's welcomed. He says, cutting through their five minute quiet, that he likes stars. And he doesn't like that he can't see them in Gotham.

Bruce hums in interest, and Danny continues talking. It's as if floodgates had been opened, and as Bruce takes a sip of his wine, it tastes like victory.

("Tucker told me once--") ("Tucker?") ("Oh-- uh, one of my best friends. He's a tech geek. We haven't talked in a while.")

(Danny shut down in his grief -- his friends are worried, but can't reach him. When he goes back to the manor with Vlad, he fishes out his phone and sends them a message.)

(They are ecstatic to hear from him.)

It all culminates until one day, when Danny is leaving to go back inside, that Bruce speaks up. "You know," He says, leaning against the railing. "The manor has many rooms; plenty of space for a guest."

The implication there, hidden between the lines. And Danny is smart, he looks at Bruce with a sharp glean in his eyes, and he nods. "Good to know."

The next time they see each other, Danny has something in his hands. "Can you hold onto something for me?" He asks.

When Bruce agrees, Danny places a pearl into his palm. or, at least, it's something that looks like a pearl. Because it's cold to the touch; sinking into Bruce's white silk gloves with ease and shimmering like an opal. It moves a little as it settles into his hand, and the moves like its full of liquid.

Bruce has never seen anything like it before, but he does know this; it's not human. "What is it?" He asks, and Danny looks uncomfortable.

"I can't tell you that." He says, shifting on his foot like he's scared of someone seeing it. "But please be careful with it. Treat it like it's extremely fragile."

When Bruce gets home, he puts it in an empty ring box and hides the box in the cave. He tries researching into what it is. he can't find anything concrete.

Everything comes to a head one day when Danny appears at the manor's doorstep one evening, soaking wet in the rain, and bleeding from the side.

[justabunchofdragons]

"just looking at you hurts. i'll order up some extra pain meds." "i love you" and that insane half-dismissive gesture wilson does. this happens after house, famously a staunch atheist, electrocutes himself in the hope of a spiritual experience. we never find out what happened, but we know something did, something important, something he wanted to tell the guy who insisted that the space between death was the best feeling ever, and then house says he loves wilson. wilson thinks house is delirious from the morphine, but nothing house says ever sounds that genuine. i love you because i just died and you were standing over my bed and i knew you would be and i love you because you aren't angry at me for almost killing myself again and i love you because you care about me like no one else and i love you because maybe i need to say it in case i don't make it the next time. because there's no sun in the hospital so sunshine on your face won't say it for me. because every inch of my body aches so i can't move to show you. because we've been fooling around with this feeling but i'm never uninhibited enough to say the truth and i want to say it so i'm going to. and maybe we never mention it again. but maybe house entertained a small, tiny possibility that it could change everything.