#let's plot and have fun !!!
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modern au crack-ish yandere idea. dragons being the king of all lizards, imagine zhongli being able to control all the 'lesser' lizards to some extent, maybe even share senses with them.
and what better way for him to watch you, his dearest darling, than connecting with the common house geckos that's roaming around your house?
they're harmless, agile, and inconspicuous enough to do some basic monitoring. don't pay attention to the strange amber-eyed tiny animal perched on your bedroom walls, dear. don't delude yourself into thinking that its eyes seemed to shine in the darkness of your room while you teeter between dream and reality deep into the night. don't worry about how it seemed to chirp angrily whenever your friends come over, as if it's warning them from entering its territory.
it's just a common house pet anyway. right?
if you're a superstitious person, that's even better. geckos are said to be a symbol of luck, protection of your home and its residents. and in this case, it's especially true for you.
worry not, for this 'lizard' will gladly rid all the 'insects' who dared to step into your abode.
a/n: lil background story time. i needed to change my bedsheets and got utterly spooked by a tiny lil house lizard flopping onto my arm when i was moving my plushies to my desk. zhongli... honey... lizards are cute, yes, but you're the only lizard i don't mind having in my bedー /smacked
#yandere#genshin impact#genshin x reader#zhongli x reader#zhongli#rin releases a plot bunny into the wild#i haven't written in weeks and this idea just hit me out of nowhere what is this lmao#fun fact i have a very noisy home gecko after moving into this new house. it moved in after like my first week here i think. i'd also hear-#-it rummage through the bin at night hsjdhskdjsl#i just let it be bc no spiders and less insects in the room yay#also back in my house there's a very noisy gecko#it always chirps past midnight#adorable creatures i love them
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Gay men in space being silly,, :3
soooo 1 am doodles of an AU my brain made up; in another universe, Fiddleford was dragged into the portal where he survived until Ford also got dragged into it eventually. Their first meeting was rough, but soon they engaged in some silly and sigma adventures. (Fiddleford has a gay awakening)(Ford is probs very ooc)
#gravity falls#fiddleford mcgucket#fiddauthor#billford in one of the images#stanford pines#ford pines#gravity falls au#gravity falls fanart#gay men save me;; save me gay men#probably aroace ford?#fiddleford is a criminal#so is ford but he lets fidds have the fun#character study turned into a whole plot#also turned this oportunity to make some attempts at weird characters in the background
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The movie outfits are so awful because Max('s intern) designed them himself
#jerry draws#jli#justice league international#max lord#j'onn j'onzz#beatriz da costa#tora olafsdotter#guy gardner#Blue Beetle#ted kord#booster gold#art that breached containment on twitter. let's hope it doesn't happen here. I'm never drawing popular stuff again#it's too much for me. either way! look at Maxie! he tried so hard! his besties do not appreciate his effort. what a bunch of haters#i don't like Guy's and Hawkgirls outfits that much. but I'm waiting to see the movie and have the plot explain them to me#idk i just wish they were more fun and whimsical
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One of them knows how to install a doorknob.
#what if we were young and powerful witches and I gave you a portal to my place as a housewarming gift#which could mean nothing#(I know it's not specifically to her place but SHHH)#local cottagecore lesbian and her high femme gf#*grabs your face* listen to me what if they were exes#what if they had a thing when Indri joined the coven that failed as they each assumed more and more their station#and tbh as Indri started her murder plot#anyways I want to believe they fucked#and somewhere in her cold heart Indri has some memories concealed#and she's been bitter about wren stalling and opposing her for so long#do you see the vision#wbn#won pod#worlds beyond number fanart#the wizard the witch and the wild one#indri#morning wrensong#granmother wren#worlds beyond number#wwwo fanart#wwwo#coven of elders#witch of the world's heart#witch of the wind and stars#what would be their ship name#witch of the wind's heart? lmao#can't resist that 5'2 baddie#this is very simple and not rendered and I wanted it to be a fun quick thing so I have to be ok with it not being perfect#there will maybe be more art of them coming up so yeah maybe more rendering there#for now let's see if people are on board with this ship
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I grabbed a bunch of caps for that last post so here's a few more in my favorite genre of bejíta
#silly hours#dbtag#i cannot express to you in strong enough terms how happy I am that super let him be silly and have fun#He's so happy and comfortable even when he's not. he's grown so much and healed so much i am so --!!#when you've had a blorbo since you were 8 and now you're in your 30s and blorbo chose to grow and mature and heal too it's special#and it means a lot to me 🥹 Never thought I'd see the day when all those headcanons I had were validated by the canon#i am constantly thinking about how toriyama said he shied away from more complex emotional plots because he didn't trust his art#but toya's nuance and pacing and composition skill is the reason he can and chose to write those kinds of stories in super#🥺 i just love them all a whole lot. what a team. toya is such a find.#anyway thank you tori & toya i owe u my life or at least my undivided attention span
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thinking abt the kon, bart, and cass (cain) trio again. guys who just never had any semblance of a childhood... i want them to go on a little adventure together. they're just like "we've never done kid stuff let's go be silly for a day!!!" and then kon realizes that out of the three of them, he's gonna be stuck being the closest thing they've got to impulse (haha) control. cass and bart would enable each other about all sorts of things and i need them to get up to shenanigans.
like, i need cass to steal one of bruce's cards so they can go to a theme park together. they're getting photos and kon calls cass "bat-babe" and she calls him "super-stud" and bart's like "i need one of these nicknames too hello??" and cass thinks really hard and goes "imp-ass?" and kon loses his shit. bart's like "that just sounds like impasse. no thanks." and kon looks at cass and says "imp passes," and then breaks into a gigglefit again. bart complains all of the roller coasters go too slow. bart and kon centrifuge poor cass on the teacup ride. she nearly throws up as soon as they get off and then demands to go again. bart challenges her to a candy eating contest and kon's like NO!!!!!!! DO NOT ACCEPT!!!!!!!! HES A SPEEDSTER!!!! so of course cass accepts. and then makes herself sick. bart's still impressed by how fast she can shove candy in her mouth for someone with no superspeed at all though.
also it would be fun if they stumbled upon a murder mystery or something in this theme park. i mean they would be like oh this is fucked up, but i would see it as enrichment in their enclosure or whatever. let cass be a noir detective with her two extremely op sillies as backup. idk. the vibes. you get me??
#rimi talks#dont ask me for an actual plot i do NOT have that in me i just have the ''i want to set these 3 loose in a place together'' energy#bart and cass together will activate kon's mom friend tendencies SO hard.#but like not in the annoying nag way he's just like GUYS... DRINK WATER... APPLY SUNSCREEN...#theyre all having a good time theyre doing silly poses on the roller coaster ride photos#sometimes i think about bringing back the tooth fairy post bc i do think that was SO fun#but then i remember how fucking annoying people who kept missing the point were in the notes#and i let it remain dead ksjdf#kon#bart#cass
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#not art (yet!!!!)#preddy good kristen I got goin on in this piece#for some reason my brain isnt letting me do this one. been stalling on it for a good few days. but I intend to break thru it#I need to put this on paper at least once#(its space sweepers. I think it would be funny if the kids are in that universe too but theyre just like off to the side doing their own#thing pretty much unrelated to the main plot. theyre delivery people. theyre all still teens. they get up to shenanigans and then#one day they look up like huh the guy who founded eden fucking died?? when#kristen specifically I got a decent amount hashed out in my brain somehow. she's like an engineered messiah with a grafted engine#along her upper body skeleton that'd let her spontaneously rearrange objects on a molecular level#so she can theoretically knit wounds or cure diseases by thinking abt it very hard#sadly the engine of course takes enormous amount of energy to power. so most of the time in practice she just#has a half-metal skeleton that doesn't do anything. so she's buff as shit on the upper side and one of her punches can break your neck#but her mobility is limited and she sprains her ankles like every other week. her shins have broken like a few times#I genuinely love the way her shoes n braces look in this one its very fun#there are a lot of choices I made in this one that are so fun and also just like. a result of putting them in space sweepers#and thinking to myself here and there hey this would be cool if it harkens back to their canon designs#not riz tho other than being human he is fully exactly like how he looks in canon. hes just like that#hes the navigator and he charts their courses by hand with a school calculator#(also technically their legal counselor since he's sorta responsible for not putting them in traffic control's hands)#drawing this does make me realise a lot of these dynamics are really fun lol. idk if Im gonna ever do anything like proper for this but#at the very least if I draw this the idea will be out there)
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I have seen a LOT of discourse about the finale so here is my final opinion on it: I Liked it I thought it was Very Bad
#shut up patrex#it made no sense at times the resolution was bad#but also: i dont care it was bad I had fun i like that Ruby is not an Important FigureTM it worked for me a lot#the real mom thing was trash but since rtd apparently already said Ruby was Wrong when she said that sure im willing#to give that plot its time#the ms floods thing lmao I love we still dont know actually! Keep us bitches guessing#I had FUN!!!!!!#Memory TARDIS is a Banger Mel was awesome 15 MY BABY 1555555 my princess with a disorder!!!#the only real COMPLAINS I have now and they are actually a rtd2 problem#is the militarization without any push back or criticism of UNIT and russy for the love of god let new people write episodes#<- this coming from someone that really likes rtd and moffat#Must Doctor Who be Good? Isnt it enough that Im having fun?
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Here's a thing! Reincarnation of Dipper who's not in the best of situations. (A Cult)
Got some gore and knives in here so watch out!
In the room of ritual, everything is ready.
Off in that wide and majestic space, the candles are lit. The circle is drawn. The altar spread with gold and trinkets, little offerings of delight and whimsy, tomes of knowledge. Along with the remnants of the latest sacrifice, dried in long trails down the stone.
The tomes, though. If one looked closely, they would see mostly encyclopedia volumes from like, sixty years ago. Because, yeah, those are going to be so tempting for a being of infinite knowledge.
Long chanting rings through the hallways, preparing the way. The ritual is in less than an hour. In preparation for the service, the servants of their lord make themselves presentable.
Dipper adjusts his robe - too big for him, by at least one size- and pulls at the neckline. It always drags up against his throat, in a tight, uncomfortable way. He tugs it down again, glaring into the small mirror on the otherwise bare wall.
Bill Cipher is the most powerful being in the universe, and his reach is infinite and his discernment of the mind and mastery of mysteries is unquestionable, yadda yadda yadda.
Dipper just. Doesn’t know what everyone else here expects to happen. Especially with the setup unchanged from the one he saw last year. And the year before that. And the one before that.
Odds are, this ritual is going to end up the same as every other one.
Pointless.
Dipper adjusts his robes again, and smooths out the front with slow strokes. As long as this is going to happen, he might as well avoid drawing attention to himself. He’s had enough ‘attention’ for more than a lifetime.
There’s a rhythm to these ceremonies. Dipper hears the footsteps, and easily tucks the hood of his robe up, only semi-stumbling as he joins the twin lines of robed figures leading into the ritual room.
As he tucks his hands together, covering them with long sleeves - Dipper spends another moment to silently sigh.
He joins the line, ducking his head as he joins in formation. The two lines of followers shuffle on with their long robes brushing the floor. He can hear them whispering to each other; varying levels of excitement, boredom. Talking about plans for after the ritual. He thinks he picks up one of the more devout members, almost humming with anticipation.
Despite the murmurs, the sight itself could be quite impressive. An all-seeing eye, if it was real, might even appreciate it.
Still, all these dramatics are so over the top. Just as fruitless and stupid as every other prayer, or ritual. Never worked before, not gonna work now. Dipper’s not sure why they’re trying the same freakin’ thing, over and over again.
For a bunch of people obsessed with the infinite power and knowledge Cipher represents, they haven’t accrued any.
And for that matter! If Bill Cipher’s eye is truly all-seeing, why hasn’t he ever responded? His triangle is emblazoned on every wall, and on their robes. You can’t look at a surface without seeing it staring back at you, and there’s no short of devout worshipers, constantly praying and doing rites.
Dipper dares a glance at one of the long scrawls on the walls, seething slightly at the handwriting. And the grammar.
If he was watching, surely he would have spoken up by now. Even if it’s just to critique the decor, which is tacky as hell.
The main ritual room fills up with warm bodies, and Dipper stands in an inconspicuous place. Just to the left, and not quite entirely in the back. At the front of the room, he can see the priest nodding approvingly, hands tucked behind his back.
Hidden under the sleeves, Dipper clenches his hands together. Breathing out a silent prayer of his own, to nobody particular. He can stand stock-still through one or two more ridiculous rituals, if it means no more prayers to a blind idiot god.
A week. Maybe two. That’s it.
Then he’ll be out of these robes, and far, far away from here. He’ll never see these people again. He’ll never have to chant a single verse again in slightly incorrect Latin. He’ll never have to kneel, or go before that stone altar again, not even once.
The outside world is - there’s a lot of talk about it. There’s always a lot of talk, more or less colored by personal experiences and levels of permission to go ‘outside’. Dipper’s learned, now, that well over ninety percent of the gossip is lies.
If his palms still sweat at the prospect, it’s because it’s… New. Different. But it can’t possibly be worse than here, and, like. Novelty is condoned by his not-really-a-god. Trying new things should be standard doctrine - if the priest wasn’t a total idiot.
Not much longer, now.
Out there, things will be better. Out there, Dipper will have a chance at having a life.
And there won’t be any trouble, since he’ll keep his mouth shut.
“Children of Cipher!” The high-pitched voice of the priest rings tinnily through the air. “We are once again assembled!”
Dipper bows in concert with his fellows. Staring at the ground is a good way to not roll his eyes.
A chant rises up, and he keeps his lips clamped together as he mirrors the ritual bowing and scraping and general genuflection. The priest will go on and on, no matter what he does.
All it takes to get through this is time. Another round of kneeling, then standing, then kneeling, until they stand at the last word in a thronging chorus.
“Brothers!” A louder, shriller call, now that everyone has been drawn close to a fervor. For all his faults, the priest does know how to read the mood - “Tonight is a special evening!” His arms thrown up, spindly and bare as the sleeves drop near to his shoulders. “Who will bleed for our god?”
The only thing that prevents Dipper from flinching is how much attention that would draw.
He hardly dares to breathe, lest some wayward motion be taken as ‘enthusiasm.’
Dipper keeps his head bowed, as murmurs start up around him and his forehead starts to prickle with sweat.
Sacrifices happen all the time. Mostly animals. Last year they got a goat, and that was considered a pretty big one and the stew afterwards was filling, and probably tasted pretty good.
Human blood, though. That’s - They haven’t done this in years.
The susurration of voices in the background grow louder, and Dipper stays bowed in place. Of course nobody wants to volunteer; ‘willing’ isn’t easily found when it comes to getting a knife in your flesh - but someone’s going to bleed, tonight. The ‘volunteer’ bit will be justified by whatever’s convenient.
Around him there’s murmurs, a few, low arguments. Tension is starting to rise, but for the most part, he’s being overlooked.
He nearly thinks he’s gotten away with it, too, when a hard shove on his back sends him stumbling forward.
“Here, brothers!” The voice rings in Dipper’s ears as he tries to backtrack, slipping on the robes of the person in front of him and dropping painfully to the floor. “The provider!”
Shit, shit, shit.
Dipper tries to glance back at whatever asshole pushed him, but the crowd’s already grouped together into a bunch of faceless clumps, drawing back from his fall.
He levels the worst glare he can manage, even as both his arms are seized by two of his so-called ‘brothers’. The big ones.
Gritting his teeth, Dipper digs in his heels. Struggling’s ineffective, protesting’s impossible. Gesturing wildly, including a raised finger in the general direction of the asshole who pushed him, Dipper gets dragged to the foot of the altar.
“See how he offers his flesh! See how he shakes with joy!” The priest jogs his arms in the air. Dipper shakes his head rapidly holding up his hands. “His arms, already offered!”
And for a moment Dipper’s simply annoyed at how obvious it is that the whole damn ritual is a farce.
“Tonight, we call upon the god! Tonight! We-”
Whatever else he’s yelling about, Dipper doesn’t pay any mind. He’s busy trying to use the loose robes to worm his way out of the guards’ grip. It halfway works, until one of them gets him by the bare wrist and painfully pulls it out.
The cold stone hits his waist. One of his sleeves is drawn to his shoulder. His arm pinned, bare and wrist upraised, on the stone.
Damn it, if he finds out who shoved him, he’s going to - he arches up, but firm hands hold his shoulders. There’s little time to think about revenge when he’s trying to find a way out of this. Arm, stuck. Shoulders, held. The exits, totally blocked by a bunch of crowded figures.
In a way, Dipper can’t truly blame them. After all, if the current sacrifice got away, who knows?
They could be next.
The priest seems pleased, at least. He paces in front of the altar, gesticulating wildly, and rambling on about god and blood, and other nonsensical bullshit.
Great. They have their ‘sacrifice’ for tonight. So, so super ‘willing’ too, what with how he, quote ‘rushed to offer himself’, end quote.
Dipper takes a long breath, holding it for three beats. Then he lets it out.
Okay. If this follows most other ‘human sacrifices’, it should be bearable. Some bloodletting, a nasty scar. Maybe a missing finger, but he’s learned to deal with worse. Push through the moment, wait for it to be over. Soon enough, he’ll be on the other side of this entire godawful situation.
Focusing on the transitory nature of pain helps him steady his breathing. And more importantly, slow his heart rate.
Calming meditation. He can work on that. Though it’s difficult, with the way the priest keeps going on and on about an ‘auspicious night’. Also, the very large, curved, very sharp-looking knife.
Dipper tries his best not to stare at it. Or to linger too much on the thought of knives and flesh and blood. If he could stop thinking, for once in his stupid life, it’ll be over before he knows it.
That’s totally not not the usual knife, though. He wonders where the hell it came from.
Last time, it was some basic utilitarian repurposed chef-thing, with a crudely engraved triangle on the hilt and the blade. This one’s much more… Ceremonial. Sharper, too, with a wicked curve and a gleaming edge, and covered in runes that Dipper’s never seen before.
He mouths a swear as one guard uncurls his fingers from the edge of the altar, turning his wrist back upright. The priest waves the very, very sharp blade around, yelling something that Dipper doesn’t bother parsing, even as his mind races. He can tell it’s definitely not Cipher runes on that thing, and not the old Latin their god prefers. Did someone go outside to find this? Another random artifact that the priest got his hands on? Seems like he’s always picking up useless semi-magic items.
The knife doesn’t feel ‘useless’, though, even from a glance. It radiates a pure and terrifying purpose.
Especially as it comes down, and rests against his wrist. Almost gently, its point bites a drop of blood from his skin.
The fetid breath of the priest pants over the altar. Dipper turns away, neck twisting as far as he can manage, eyes shut.
Please let this be just a bit. Just a drop. A small, tentative cut to fill a bit of the channels on the stone. There’s a sting to the metal, a slight burn, and though Dipper’s not one of the main Holders of Mysteries or anything, he feels like that’s a very bad sign.
Then he feels. Cold.
It runs down his inner arm, lingering for an instant before blossoming into sharp, bright pain. He nearly chokes on air, cringing into a hunched position as he feels the knife slide.
The catching drag of the old knife would have been painful, but that was mostly used for taking a finger, or maybe dragging across the back of the arm, in a more decorative than productive way of drawing blood.
The ease with which this knife cuts sends a deep, swirling nausea straight to the pit of his stomach.
“Behold, the flow! The magic gathers, my children!” THe priest’s voice warbles a bit as “With this tool, with this magic, our god will hear our call! He will behold our devotion, and raise us to glory! He will answer-” More and more words, variations on encouragement. Zero substance, all hype. A fanatical motivation speaker, Dipper thinks, half-hysterically.
Vapid or not, the result is effective. The sight of blood has certainly spurred everyone into a kind of frenzy, whether from fear or fervor, Dipper doesn’t care.
And they’re certainly getting a lot of blood. More than required.
Dipper struggles up against the hold, but it’s pointless. He ‘s stuck there for a few long minutes, oozing out for an audience that can’t even see half the damn thing, and it hurts.
The red trail gathers, slowly pooling down and into the engraven triangle. Enough to fill the shallow channels easily, which, uh. Dipper’s never seen before. With the other sacrifices it kind of stopped and clotted, but this moves like it’s being wicked along the surface.
He makes a face as his blood slowly travels through the lines, but can’t see any surface changes, or feel anything that might have been put on the stone.
Until it connects at the top point. Then it meets, completing the image of Bill with a strange, too-bubbly ‘blorp’.
Okay. Weird. But that’s plenty, right? Ritual done, blood offered, and now, he should get going.
Lurching upward gets the grip to loosen up on his arms, as the guards loosen their grip a bit. They already have what they need, and hell. Dippers deserves a friggin’ break. With the immediate attention off him, he can dare a glance at his arm -
And instantly averts his gaze to absolutely anything else.
The priest turns around, arms raised. Pumping them in the air, knife glinting in the candlelight. “Yes. Yes!” He swings the blade around, nearly catching one of the big brothers in the side. “See how easily the liquid flows. The power builds! I can feel it - the summoning, in this room tonight!”
The crowd calls out their enthusiasm, a high rising ‘oooh’ noise.
Dipper sighs, and tries to scoot back away from the altar. It’s done, at least; he’ll just have to cope with the aftermath. Could be worse.
“The other arm, brothers!” A loud, clarion call. Dipper whips his head around, as the priest lowers his arms - and turns back around. Pointing at Dipper. Again. “I feel the blade crave more!”
Uh, hello? What?
Dipper glances up at the knife. At how the slight sheen of blood has dipped into some of the runes, the faint glow - and goes ‘huh’.
Alright, he’ll admit. It’s definitely magical.
But he’s beginning to suspect it has less to do with Bill, and a lot more to do with other forces. Ones that might, say, make a ritual flow smoothly. Or make a fanatical asshole even more bloodthirsty.
Behind him, he almost feels the guards shrug, right before he gets shoved against the altar again. One of the assholes even dares to pat his side, in a brief bit of unexpected sympathy. Not that it means anything.
Dipper longs to curse them out, to scream at every single one of these absolute jackasses. Every one of them is just watching this happen. Nobody thinks about what happens next, ever, including -
He grits his teeth instead, hard enough that he thinks something might crack.
Everyone follows orders. The words of their supposed ‘god’, filtered through a man who’s fallible and frail and frankly fucking stupid. Always getting stupid magical trinkets. Always trying to find a link to that demonic god, constantly pursuing magic, and power, and influence. No matter the cost.
Why would he care if one of the too-few worshipers pays the price?
And fuck that.
Before, Dipper struggled as much as he could. Partly from fear, sure. But mostly to make a point. That this was stupid and painful, and wasn’t going to do anything anyway. Knowing that with enough kicking and protest, he might get them to cut things short.
Now, seeing the priest whip the blade back around, raising overhead with both hands - he fights.
A solid kick lands in the left guard’s groin, and he gets his wounded arm back. Dipper clutches it to his chest, but the other’s still pinned and being twisted, now. Another kick gets something softer, and he hears a huff from the priest. Then a loud, angry order to ‘Hold him down!’.
Dipper’s shoved into the stone, stomach digging into the edge of the altar hard enough to make him gag. His head hits the surface, more dizzying than painful. There's a hand gripped in his hair. Then his other sleeve is drawn up, his healthy arm extended over the table. Bare skin exposed, lying over the bloody surface.
He breathes heavily, nose nearly against the altar. It quickly grows hot from his breath, and moist, too, which is probably why his face feels wet. He doesn’t hear anything but his own harsh panting.
He never wanted to be a part of this, he never wanted to grow up like this. In a week or so, he was going to get out, and now he’s going to get hurt again, so soon, and he only has so much blood in him. He doesn’t want to die. He shuts his eyes, tucking up against himself. Hoping the weight of his body will drag his arm away where his own strength couldn’t, choking back a tightness in his throat. He was nearly out. He was nearly safe.
He was almost free.
He breathes harder, shutting his eyes tight. He presses his forehead against the runes, and the blood, and just wishes he wasn’t here.
Metal clangs on the floor, ringing bright as a bell.
There’s a sudden intake of breath. Dipper feels the hands release him, a shocked sound. Then the ‘flump’ of a lot of draped fabric, all at once.
Dipper keeps his face against the stone, breathing slower. That’s. That’s not how any ritual goes.
He can’t waste the opportunity, though. Now that his arms are free, Dipper pulls his sleeve back up, bundling it around the cut. Shit. Does he clench his fist or leave his grip loose? Which one slows blood flow.
Whatever interrupted this isn’t going to last. He’s only got a few seconds before everyone comes back to whatever passes for their senses, and tries to ‘complete the summoning’, or whatever the hell they were after.
Gotta act. Gotta - Dipper wheels around, panting for breath.
In front of the altar, all the robed figures in the room have fallen to their knees. The priest’s dropped the knife. Dipper scoots it a little closer to himself with a foot, watching as the zealot raises his arms in devout praise.
Dipper pauses. Still clenching tight on his wrist, though his sleeve is starting to feel damp. Things don’t just stop like that. The ritual has to continue. People should be surging up to keep the momentum, but the entire room is -
Oh.
Yeah, now he sees it.
All the candles were lit before. They give a little light to a room that’s never seen electronics in its life, dim as it is.
Right now, they’re bursting with flame, rising high enough to cast weird shadows over the cavern -
And it’s a very bright blue.
Shit.
Dipper whirls around, unsteady on his feet. Staring at a long, long trail of rising blood. Almost a string, or a reverse droplet, floating up from the triangle carved on the stone. In midair it spreads into a thin web, shapeless and vaguely pulsing.
Okay. That is definitely magical. And absolutely up to no good.
He fumbles around - where did he kick the knife? Maybe if he breaks it, it’ll interrupt this whole thing. Who knows what the hell that idiot priest did, or where he got the artifact, or what it does.
Dipper doesn’t know much about gods, or spirits, or demons, but anything that gets pulled in by a blood sacrifice can’t be a good sign. He spots the damn thing near the opposite corner, and braces himself on the altar. It he’s careful, he can reach it without alerting anyone. Maybe.
Which is when the entire hall fills with bright, loud laughter.
“Well, well, well, well, well!” The voice rings just as brightly as the laugh. Dipper jerks towards the sound, involuntarily, only to see a single eye open inside the breath web of blood. “What do we have here?”
There’s a resounding groan from the crowd. Various people start chanting, but they’re all using different verses, and the priest starts his own, presumably improvised, wail of praise and devotion. The end result is an ear-rattling clamor.
Dipper looks back at the altar. Watching the blood twist in this way, and that. The eye alights on him for a moment - he freezes - but it moves on from him quickly, examining the room.
There’s a lot to see, too. Maybe terrified, devout worshipers isn’t weird for a supernatural entity, but it’s thoroughly freaking Dipper out. Even the priest is on his knees.
“Boy, it’s been a while since I’ve had this kinda summon!” The net stretches, almost elastic; twisting into limblike shapes, and fractal forms. The slit-pupiled eye rolls back and forth. Then it blinks twice. “Might as well get dressed for the occasion! Hold on a sec.”
The eye shuts into nothingness. Moments later, the blood starts getting really active, pulsing faster, twisting into shapes like it’s alive.
Dipper spares a terrified check on his wrist, but. No, he’s not feeding it, or anything. This is something else. Someone else, taking the material and lending it power enough to grow.
Even as he watches, there’s a spreading arch of bone and the twist of veins. A fairly glorpy assortment of something between and below what looks like ribs, a strange thick blackness tinged with yellow…
He cringes back, and shuts his eyes. Shit, watching this is deeply unsettling.
Not that it’s gory, per se - that would imply that something’s being taken apart, when it shouldn’t be. This is something being put together, a way that it shouldn’t ever be.
He backs up a step from the writhing mass, getting more fleshy by the instant. Then grimaces, teetering in place. Blood loss, right. From the asshole who started this whole thing. He levels a glare at said asshole -
But. Beside him, the priest is quivering with tension. Trembling like he didn’t expect this to happen.
Frankly? Neither did Dipper. For all the times they’ve done a ritual, there’s never been a reaction like this.
This insane mass, forming insanely out of nothing. Or well, from blood, that spread out in a weird three-dimensional - triangle, oh shit -
He should have known. Should have noticed. This was a summon, and while the object used wasn’t for the right being, maybe that doesn't’ matter with so much gathered intent.
This is….
Dipper falls, awkwardly, to his knees. Then ducks down in as low a bow as he can manage, pulling the hood of his robe back over his head.
Part of him thought Bill didn’t exist, or at least not in the way these guys talked about him. Maybe they’d latched onto some other spirit or deity, and completely misinterpreted everything. Maybe they’d made it all up, including some of the really old texts. There was never any evidence that their lord and master was real.
But given what’s happening here…
Like hell is he gonna look like the only person who doesn’t.
Something - two things - go ‘clack’ on the altar. A few series of taps.
Then a long, pleased sigh, and the sound of soft movement, like cloth.
Dipper keeps looking down. The hood keeps him anonymous, another faceless shape in the crowd. Just one more figure genuflecting before his -
Before a god.
One that might not even deserve a capital letter on the word, perhaps, but still an entity that he should not, under any circumstances, piss off.
There’s a tap that sounds like a shoe, and a low hum. Something lands beside him with a thud. In the brief moment that he raises his head, Dipper catches sight of black loafers, and long fingers on an oddly human-looking hand.
He quickly lowers himself more towards the floor, holding his arm tight.
Yep, just one more super-devoted believer, same as all the others. Super not important enough to notice.
“You know, blood’s usually for blood gods!” Bill Cipher’s voice rings through the room. It’s higher than Dipper expected it to be. One of the fancy-looking black shoes kicks the knife up into the air, where it’s caught by the long fingers of that hand. “Pretty wild for you guys to pull this. With another guy’s artifact, of all things!” A chiding tut, and the knife twirls. “And pretty disrespectful, I gotta say.”
“My lord.” The priest’s voice is dry, even for a guy who already sounded half-dessicated. He rises to his knees, hands clasped together. “We meant no disrespect. We are here to serve you, master. As we always have.”
“Uh huh,” Bill says. In Dipper’s limited sight, he toys idly with the knife, pressing the tip against the finger of an opposite hand. A bead of something dark wells up, and he rubs his fingers together.
The priest recites several lines of a chant, making a triangle with his fingers. So eager, and so totally missing the disinterest in Bill’s tone- “We have always been searching for you, our worship unending! You honor us with your presence. You shine upon us your infinite glory!”
“Sure you have,” Bill says, sounding, if anything, bored. The blade in his hand flips around between his fingers, then back again. The motion reminds Dipper of a very deadly fidget spinner. “Do tell.”
Which is when the priest surges up, nearly grabbing onto Bill’s thigh. He’s only stopped by a rapid sidestep.
Dipper cringes back out of secondhand embarrassment. Bad move. Dumb move. ‘Devoted’ or not, Bill was bored already - and infinite beings of pure energy do not like being manhandled by mortals.
“Let us use this connection, and the blade! Let us complete the sacrifice.” The priest continues, undeterred. Shuffling closer on his knees, he spreads his arms wide, inviting and eager. “The blood could grant you all your power, that you might grant us-”
“Pass.” Bill says dismissively. The knife flashes, and there’s a wet, solid ‘thunk’.
Dipper catches a brief glimpse of the priest’s face - stuck in shock, pale and lined with age - just before his body falls to the floor, as limp as a ragdoll. The knife handle in his chest props him up at a weird angle, before a swift kick from a black shoe sends it tumbling down the short three steps of the dais.
Dipper cringes into a smaller ball, trying to scrunch himself into invisibility. He watches Bill pass in front of him, standing in front of the crowd. The hand rests on a hip, while the other is raised out of site. Still far, far too close.
On the one hand, Bill’s examining the congregation. Distracted, for a moment. Staying out of his attention is so, so great.
Dipper curls up in a much, much tighter ball despite that.
In every single one of his plans to get out of here, Bill Cipher existing wasn’t a factor. Much less his actual, physical presence. All he’d ever thought about was how this was bullshit, that the people he knew were awful - and how hopefully, nobody would notice if he left. Now the ‘god’ himself is here. Standing so near Dipper he could, if he wanted, stupidly touch the hem of his pants.
A distant, insane part of him chimes in with the stupid idea that it’s nothing to really worry about.
Like, compared to how he’s still losing blood, for example.
Right. Staunch first, panic later.
Dipper wraps his sleeve around his arm, as subtly as he can, teeth gritted. His first priority is to stop bleeding. No escape plan - or any plan for that matter - is going to be useful if he dies.
The immensely powerful nightmare god is also a problem, obviously. But in this moment he’s not the immediate threat.
“Hmmm.” Bill lets out a low, contemplative hum. It resonates in the room, with how deathly silent things have become. “Let’s see here…”
After a pause, he snaps his fingers. “Stand!”
The entire congregation leaps to their feet. One of them stumbles and gets a swift kick in the side.
“Sit!” Bill commands. Everyone drops to the floor. A low chuckle, then, “Turn around three times and bark like a dog!”
Oh, now that won’t -
Or maybe it will. Dipper cringes, back pressed against the altar. Don’t just comply, what the hell. Sure it’s a magical god-being, but - fuck. He watches the scene with a grimace.
Bill, though, seems to be having a great time. He’s bouncing in place, voice bright with enthusiasm. “Do a little dance! Twist yourself until your joints snap! Hell, start a fight with the guy next to you!”
There’s havoc in the room of ritual. Robed figures practically fall all over themselves, and Dipper notes with a nauseating turn that some of them have drawn knives of their own. Chaos reigns; an entire scramble to do each possible thing, all at once.
And Bill’s laughter rings out over everything, clapping his hands in delight.
Dipper’s trapped in this room with an insane madman, leading a horde of equally insane idiots, and he doesn’t have a way out. He hopes he’ll stay out of notice. He hopes that he’ll live through the next five minutes.
There’s no controlling the situation, but he can improve his odds.
The altar’s pretty close, and Bill’s turned away, for the moment. Dipper scoots back, inching himself towards the corner. With enough shuffling, he might be able to move behind it and get out of sight.
“Welp,” Bill claps his hands again, this time with finality. Some of the chaos stills. “You’re all annoying, boring little vermin, but maybe you guys could improve. I noticed the blood you used to summon me was real choice stuff!” The exaggerated sound of a kiss. “Very nice.”
Dipper feels sweat building up in his robes, and tries to be very still. Basically part of the ritual scenery. Anonymous furniture, at best.
“In fact. It was so nice.” The voice continues, at a lower tone. Almost a purr. There’s a clack of shoes on stone. “Let’s see who this little treat is!”
The god seizes Dipper’s wrist - the wounded one, sending a bolt of pain down his arm - and clamps his palm around it, incredibly tight.
Before he knows it, Dipper’s standing again, involuntarily, staring past his hood into a bright, glowing eye.
He’s meeting his god. He’s been noticed by Bill Cipher.
So far he’s not trembling, so. That’s one thing he has going for him.
Bill’s eye flicks down, then up again, almost thoughtful. Any question about his power is quickly tossed aside, because holy shit; the magic is nearly palpable, thrumming into Dipper’s skin and making his heart race.
He’s also sporting a bright, wide grin, in a face that makes Dipper do a double-take.
Like. He thought - he glances at the triangle on the back of the wall, then to the person in front of him.
Okay, it’s said that Bill Cipher can take any form he wants, human included, but, like. What?
Thankfully, Bill doesn’t seem to notice any of the insane, stupid things Dipper is thinking. All he does is raise his hand, and with one quick motion, sweep the hood off of Dipper’s head.
Dipper flinches back. Jaw clenched, eye shut.
Shit, shit, shit. Special attention. All the scenarios he can think of say ‘not good’. Best case scenario, it’s because Bill wants to thank him, for... Whatever his blood did. The rest of them involve increasingly terrifying ideas about what ‘nice blood’ means, and how much of it Bill might want. All of it, say. Maybe immediately.
Dipper can’t pull away, not with such a strong hold on his arm. Fighting is downright dumb. Trembling’s happening, despite his best efforts, and the intrusive thought bubbles up that, hey, at least there’s lots of pressure on his wound. Could be worse.
Nothing happens. For several seconds.
Eventually, Dipper peeks an eye open.
There’s Bill Cipher, looking back at him. His eye is literally lit up, the pleased grin wide on his face.
Dipper waits for an order, but the god doesn’t speak. He just wiggles his eyebrows. If anything, he looks oddly… expectant?
Fuck. Dipper has to do something.
What the hell, there isn’t any doctrine for this.
Sure, he knows all of the catechism, and each chant he was taught. He’s got an encyclopedic memory of everything he was taught about this powerful interdimensional god-being, he knows every ritual back and forth. The tenets spring to mind, unbidden: Be obedient, speak his words, serve him in all ways - and most of all, don’t think.
But Dipper can’t chant. He hasn’t been told to do anything yet. And though it’d be a death sentence, if serving involves more bleeding he’d be tempted to kick again. Hell, he literally just watched everyone else trying the other bits. They did exactly what they were supposed to, and that was ‘boring’.
He never could stop thinking, though.
Now, his mind is racing.
A little-known and never-preached fact about Bill Cipher is that he doesn’t, actually, like rules all that much -
So.
Dipper offers a hesitant, closed-mouth smile. He wiggles the fingers of his free hand, a bit awkwardly, in greeting.
Then ducks his head again, wishing he still had a hood to cover his face.
That didn’t make it weird, right? That’s a normal, devout thing to do. Coming from a totally religious guy, who’s only slightly damp from all the sweating.
“Oh.” Bill’s voice lowers to something like a purr. He tucks a knuckle under Dipper’s chin, lifting him to meet his single eye again. An eye that’s glowing now, bright gold and half-lidded. “Ten outta ten on the offering, guys. Very cute.”
Which is a little weird, but probably -
“Y’know what?” And Bill’s grin widens, bright and wild, as his thumb strokes Dipper’s chin. “I like this one.”
Uh oh.
Dipper tries sinking down into his oversized robes, but Bill just fishes around inside them until he can pull Dipper up again by his undershirt.
“In fact,” Bill declares, sounding proud. He pulls Dipper in closer, hand still clamped painfully tight on his wounded wrist. “I’m gonna keep him.”
What?
Immediately after that declaration, Dipper’s tugged in close, thumping against his side. Bill turns to start barking orders at the congregation, sharp and sneering.
Dipper can’t quite parse it. He’s still running over the last few words in his head.
In the ritual room, the candles flare even higher, temperature rising to an uncomfortable degree. Dipper watches two worshipers collide with each other in their frantic obedience, and can’t even laugh about it.
‘Keep’, Bill said.
What does that mean? Everything here is already ‘Bill’s’, in a way. But the way he said it sounded… oddly specific.
A hopeful part of Dipper chimes in that it might just mean ‘not let him bleed out’, but he’s never been that lucky before, and there’s no reason it would start now.
With everything else going on. With the presence of a god. e.
The cultists are bustling about; a few of them deposit things near Bill’s feet, like gifts upon the altar. Boxes, totems, more lit candles that Bill idly kicks over onto one of their robes, watching them flail at the sudden burst of fire.
Eventually, Bill considered the task ‘done’, or close enough. He sighs, shaking his head. “About time, guys! Talk about slow. Hard to get good followers these days.”
Bill clicks his tongue in distaste, then snaps his fingers.
Dipper hears a weird ‘zmmm’ sound to his left. He notices that Bill’s suit is really soft material, and also that he probably shouldn’t be grabbing it like this.
He doesn’t dare look at the sound. Not when Bill’s turned towards him with smug pride, like he’s pulled off a plan without a hitch.
“Man, it's only been fifteen minutes, and I’ve had it with these losers.” Bill gives the congregation a look of disgust, then turns back to Dipper. That grin reemerges like the sunrise. “Screw these guys, am I right?”
This time, Dipper’s smile is involuntary. He quashes it fast, but not before Bill notices.
“That’s what I thought.” Bill says, with deep pleasure. He takes a step closer to the altar, pulling Dipper along with a surprising lack of force. “So! What’d’ya say we ditch this joint?”
Dipper doesn’t know what that means. He doesn’t know what’s been happening, either, other than it’s all been going way too fast.
But Bill Cipher is looking at him, still. Present, powerful. Eager for a response.
Dipper just shrugs.
He wouldn’t know what to say even if he still had his tongue.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” Bill says, eminently pleased. Pulling Dipper in closer, with an arm suddenly around his waist. “Hold on tight! It ain’t a bumpy ride, but it’s a weird one.”
Dipper follows as he walks. Partly on automatic, and partly because what the hell else is he supposed to do?
About three steps in, he realizes they’re both walking on thin air, towards and over the altar.
He jerks his head over, blinking at the source of that ‘zmm’ sound.
Because of course summoning am interdimensional god-being would leave a remnant. He had to come from somewhere.
Like, say, a weird red-yellow gap in space, with nonsense things flung around in a black and bizarre starscape. Dipper catches a glimpse of something with two many limbs, and of a series of screaming mouths with no bodies, and a duck and a grandfather clock, tumbling through the air.
It’s almost like it might be a nightmare dimension. Who could have thought.
With nothing else to cling to, his free hand clamps Bill’s shoulder, tight.
“You’re my guest for the next while, sapling.” Bill says, squeezing him tight in return as he steps in - and drags Dipper alongside him, stalking into the portal. “Glad to have you!”
#Let's see if I have any fun facts here#I am very tired!#I meant to sit on this and edit it more but I am Posting because of Reasons#Blame one of my cats for this#Sorry about all the setup#The next chapter which I have already started is where the REAL fun happens#In that whenever I think of some of the plot points I cackle and think 'Get Loved On Idiot'#So that's a hint as to what happens#Man I can never think of fun facts while I'm posting. Only afterwards#Anyway I hope this was a reasonably enjoyable read!
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I'm a big fan of crossovers and fusions, but was devastated to discover dc x mlb tends to focus on just taking Marinette to Gotham, so I made what I wanted to see! And that is Jason Todd with a miraculous
I haven't properly watched Miraculous Ladybug in a long while, but augh, do I still love and adore making designs or redesigns based on the series. The Tiger miraculous suits Jason well from what I can tell!
Powerups :] Click for better quality bdjsbdks
#Jason Todd#red hood#jason todd robin#jaybin#dc comics#batman#miraculous ladybug#my art#my dc art#i do not like the little balls on the tail but i was committed#i still think the gold is a bit too much on the tiger. but it can fit well at times#according to my drawing app all these miraculous jasons took about 15 hours total? um! oopsies#do we call the crossiver dc x mlb am i getting that right#lets give more characters a magical girl upgrade <- me all the time#ehhehe um. im not. going to do anything with these. again i haven't watched mlb in forever and i have other aus i care more about#this was just to make designs there is no plot or plan or literally anything. just me indulging myself in a bit of whimsy. bit of fun#dc x mlb#<-FORGOT THAT TAG#dc au#YES i did just post tiger (and cat) jason the other day. i updated it and made more
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so sad to me that all legendaries are banned from the battle subway because like do you know who'd be perfect for em in my opinion
#pokemon#submas#sketches#ingo#emmet#twin dragons! LOL#i think it'd be fun because they're still legendary dragons with a light-dark colour scheme (somewhat - warm-cool)#but they're not infringing on the plot of the actual games.#also latias is tied with celebi for my favouritest pokemon ever so. LET ME have this.#i don't genuinely think they should've had em in the games for many many reasons but it's still fun to imagine
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Okay I saw more of your art and had to come back (if it’s okay)
Maybe this time….King Marty? Like in a kings outfit with the septor
and crown and stuff? Idk
no problem at all! i'm just happy you enjoy :D
anyone with any remote knowledge of historical dress from any vague period or region please avert your eyes.
#im having a real doc brown crude model moment here over the fit LMAO.#marty mcfly#bttf fanart#bttf#back to the future#not Exactly what you asked for? i could not bear to draw the fancy stick alas. and it's more of a prince vibe than a king vibe#bc if this guy held any sort of significant position of power something would combust#ik it's a silly doodle but of course i gotta make up some context bc that's part of the fun. YAP SESSION WARNING#i was thinking that doc and marty were dicking around somewhere in a place and period of time with a monarchy. for Science#and for one reason or another he ends up getting mistaken for royalty or something. may or may not be related to how straight his teeth are#so they drag his ass back to the palace and marty has No Fucking Clue what's happening. meanwhile doc is on the verge of a stroke#i think it would be really funny if some princess got infatuated with marty and now he has the plot of the first movie on his hands again#except instead of him ceasing to exist it's like. the entire history of a country#so doc's trying to get him out of there and marty's trying to let this chick down gently bc he doesn't want her to like. kill him or smth#and also there's probably a tannen thrown in there too bc why the hell not#i don't even like royalty aus that much for this fandom but somehow i've got a decent amount of thoughts about this LMAO.#you asked for a silly doodle and somehow it came with a whole fic idea too. whoops#anyone want to take this idea and run with it feel free to#kit does an art#kit yap session#<- bc of the sheer amount of tag on this
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Rewatched Gilda (1946) recently, and immediately thought of the bnnuy and doggo husbands. The movie is so good, there's literally only ONE issue, which I *know* would be 100% solved if the Freelance Husbands were the main characters (will probably get into why that is in a different post tho) and so, a couple or more AU ideas were born....(Including a canon divergence/never met as kids/met as young adults AU, for which I also have a fic WIP)
Really wanna make an animatic redoing the whole Put The Blame On Mame scene but with the freelance husbands, with of course, Max being Gilda. There's even an excellent song cover from Alexandre Covers at YT, a Max animation is practically begging to be made....I really wanna do it qjhHUaj.
#sam & max#sam and max freelance husbands#sam and max freelance police#my Gilda Sam & Max AU is set on a alternate universe where homophobia was never a thing#and probs gonna have anachronistic and/or 4th wall breaking/lampshading to booth too#sam and max#max sam and max#gilda 1946#rita hayworth you will always be iconic#NA.S art#edit: NOT genderbent it's just Max wearing a dress bc he likes doing so. it's canon#he would rock femme fatale fashion we all know that#everything else that sucked from that era did happen tho. It has to bc of Reasons™#but mainly bc noir is all about The Bunch Of Problems Society and By Extension Normal People Had To Go Thru™. Which same tbh#my Gilda Sam&Mad AU is set in an alternate universe where queerphobia wasn't a thing. Or at least way less prevalent#edit: by “noir” here I'm talking about the films and not the sub-category of Sam & Max aus 😅#altho i guess the Gilda AU would be a noir AU bc Gilda is a noir film and I'll touching on themes from the prohibition era and stuff.#but it's not gonna have the same tone noir S&M aus usually have. I'm deffo gonna touch on era typical serious/mature topics#including controversial stuff from that era like the extreme censorship and obsession with “purity” and the sexism#and the racism and elitism and the socioeconomic reality and the war/post war consequences and whatnot#but. I'm also keeping Sam and Max as in character as possible bc I do not envision them in the roles of Gilda and Jhony 1:1.#in other words. Anachronistic jokes and lampshading and 4th wall breaking and general irreverently playful tone.#and by extension how their personalities+dynamic would in turn affect the plot of Gilda. Bc the fun about this type of thing#is exploring not only the similarities but what makes it different from canon. I'm putting S&M in Gilda. i'm letting them Do Their Thing™
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saw you wrote reverse robins too, it always has a thing for me. what's your headcanon about it? any particular ship you like?
oh i ADORE Revers Robins, i wish i got the chance to write it more! i think there's something interesting in the challenge of flipping these characters and trying to see how they would change in each other's arcs. How Tim would approach being Red Hood, how Damian would approach being Nightwing, etc. it's all so interesting to me. some headcanons i have are
i think, making Damian the oldest and forcing him to mature on his own with just Bruce is fascinating. bc it's going to make a *very* emotionally closed-off Bruce. the bulk of Damian opening up happens when he's Dick's Robin, so to make it just him and Bruce destabilizes a lot of that. Bruce chose Dick, but if Damian's the oldest, it's likely he didn't choose Damian, he got stuck with him. which adds to their dynamic and imo makes Damian a bit more stunted in the way Dick is, in that being raised solely by Bruce can make one. emotionally constipated. i do think Damian would be forced to mature a lot faster and would be a very quiet person.
i've mentioned this in a post talking about JayTim in RR AUs, but Tim as Red Hood would be *far* more calculating, imo. i think a lot of the emotion of Jason's actions would be stripped from it. even if you make Tim a killer (such as when Tim is Savior in a future universe) he's never going to be a "heads in a duffel bag" killer. he's going to be planned and methodical about it. (like how he almost killed Boomerang) half of his plans would be hidden from Bruce and i think part of the game for Tim would just be seeing how much Bruce even figures out.
replacing Tim with Jason instead of vice versa is interesting, bc it forces Jason to enter the role of Robin with a lot more caution. i think his backstory still works in a RR situation, street kid Bruce just kinda plucked from nowhere and called Robin. bc Bruce is grieving, and this if the first kid whose mischief sort of reminds him of Tim. but bc there's a dead Robin before Jason, it means he's going to be treated with much more care. and his anger regarding entering a Red Robin role could be interesting bc he is known for his anger and i do think he'd be far more violent about the transition, as opposed to Tim's self isolation route.
for RR, i always always prefer that it's Damian who adopts Dick. usually i like it best as Damian adopting Dick when Bruce is "dead", but i think it also works if Bruce is alive when Dick comes into the picture. it'd make for a stunted relationship bc of how closed off Damian is while *wanting* to do right by this kid, or at least do better than Bruce did. and i think Damian as Dick's mentor figure would make how Dick confronts his anger very different.
as for Steph, in any case where i do a Reverse Robins, mentally know i'm also picturing it with a Reverse Batgirls. and to keep from Cass just not moving around, i'd include Helena's time as Batgirl and thus, Steph is Oracle, Cass is Huntress, Helena is Black Bat, and Babs is Spoiler. which, makes canon ships like TimSteph and DickBabs a lot of fun. also you have a lot of curious things to explore by flipping Cass and Helena's moral codes under their vigilante titles. Cass as an outsider to the Batfam instead of being under Bruce and Babs' wings? could *really* force her to do unsavory things. and Helena with more support could be a bit softer around the edges. honestly, i could make a whole post about Reverse Batgirls too bc i think most RR AUs don't tend to address the women in it, which is terrible. gimme Oracle!Steph. and with Spoiler!Babs, if you play with Babs brother that rarely exists being the person she becomes Spoiler to stop, that could be super fun.
as for my favorite RR ships: i'm a suck for RR!TimDami. i think it's just bc of all ships, that one tends to play with the AU the most, in my experience? which is *so* fun bc Nightwing!Damian and Red Hood!Tim struggling to reconcile is everything. i devour every fick. i'm also particular to JayTim, just bc i think Jason as Robin seeing Red Hood!Tim would *immediately* be too interested for his own good as he copes with his anger of being replaced as Robin. but seriously any RR ship if the worldbuilding is done well will always draw me in. i just adore seeing how ppl explore filling in the logical loopholes and if backstories need to be adjusted or not and how personalities would naturally change in the situation. it's endlessly fascinating to me.
#necrotic answerings#reverse robin au#reverse robins#reverse batgirls#that should be a tag and it's a crime that it's NOT#I never see ppl tackle how to handle Steph in reverse robin#I think I saw one fic where *she* was Red Hood that was enlightened#otherwise she tends to be glossed over#which is a tragedy.#let women exist in the Batfam.#also Jason as the third Robin would be the one dealing with jean-paul with damian#which would be SO interesting by God.#like I wanna explore these characters in each others plots as part of this AU#would they be on each other's teams?#Tim on the outlaws#Jason on young justice#and so on#bc that is also SO fun.#how do the team dynamics shift yk.#also Steph as oracle I think would be a direct result of Bruce never taking her seriously as batgirl#which would be why Steph would form the birds of prey when she becomes oracle to cope with it all#could be fun.#Steph and Helena having the relationship that Babs and Cass have in canon? PEAK.
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2024 reads / storygraph
Don’t Let The Forest In
YA horror
an anxious Australian boy whose only friends are his twin sister & best friend/roommate returns to boarding school in the US - but his sister is ignoring him, and his friend is acting strange, with rumors of having something to do with his parents’ murder
he follows him into the nearby forest one night - and finds him fighting eldritch monsters from the dark fairytales & art they create together, desperate to stop them from hurting anyone else
ace MC, m/m
#Don’t Let The Forest In#aroaessidhe 2024 reads#asexual books#i mean not to be influenced by a book’s cover to love it immediately but like#yeah pretty made for me. i thought this was great.#dark forest fairytale vibes & horror based around the exploration of (not) processing trauma#and some messy gay codependant yearning (and beginnings of some nice friendships)#there were a few directions I was worried the plot was going to go in at certain points which would have dampened my enjoyment#but it bypassed those thankfully#i really wanted to see his relationship with his sister because we didn’t see much of that#but I also got the impression there was a reason for that and it would be addressed eventually….which it is.#Maybe the ending is a little rushed? I would have loved to have more of it.#“he could cut me to bloody pieces if he wanted. i couldn’t stop him even if i tried” bitch you’re in high school. it’s not that dramatic#(kidding I love that kind of prose and messy codependency is fun to read)#also there’s a trope I dislike in other books where an ace character is all self hating about it#then another person is like it’s ok to be ace :) and then they’re suddenly proud and happy.#and this Could have done that but I think it explores his feelings about accepting his asexuality with more nuance so that’s nice
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I am so tired of seeing arguments against J/C, saying that Kate never wanted them together on Voyager because it would blah blah blah. Guess what? We are in agreement and we understand why it was necessary, especially when you consider the context of the time when the show was made. We fully support why it had to be done that way back then.
But times change; narratives and characters evolve, and views and perceptions shift. If anything, Voyager's inability to ever have two adult characters discuss their feelings ended up falling into another trap - they had Chakotay go after the 'prettier and younger' girl. You know what kind of message that sent to girls and women? You can have the most profound relationship in the universe with someone, yet he will still pick the prettier girl over you, even if they have nothing in common.
Prodigy had the perfect opportunity to subvert expectations by making them canon because, in retrospect, the 'will they, won't they' dynamic was predictable.
It was stated multiple times that they were afraid it would completely take over the show, but I don’t see almost anyone mentioning that this is exactly what happened with Wesley. Every podcast I listen to spends 50% of the time talking about Wesley, while the main Protostar crew is hardly ever discussed. J/C is also mentioned in passing. It all became about Wesley. In trying so hard to avoid falling into the imaginary J/C trap, they ended up in a much worse one, where all any Trek fan wants to talk about isn’t the Protostar kids or J/C, but Wesley and Wil Wheaton.
¯\_(ツ)_/¯
#janeway x chakotay#star trek voyager#star trek prodigy#I have yet to find a podcast where they talk about Zero's transformation#Or about Rok's creation aka Bribble and what this meant for her#Or Jankom in general. No one EVER mentions Jankom as if he isn't part of the main crew#Janeway and Chakotay have a direct connection to the Protostar kids so when you talk JC you also talk about the kids#Like why does Murf love Chakotay so much#Foreshadowing Dal and Chakotay's friendship in the Who saves the Saviours episode#Why Chakotay trusted and wanted the Protostar kids on the Protostar with him when Ascencia attacked#And how Dal went to first race and then pilot the Novas and how that foreshadows his interest in piloting when he decides he won't be capta#Wes and kids are connected only by the plot and him being the original Prodigy#But he has no effect on their development other than telling them what to do and where to go#He is a plot device#the evolved deus ex machina#No discussions about Ascencia or Ilthuran#Literally half of the time is dedicated to Wes and timetravel and how he's connected to it#Maybe they see the talk about Wes more mature and more worth having than talking about the silly JC romantic connection#which is just anti fem cause women like to talk relationships#and making fun of them for wanting to do so is a can of worms y'all are not ready to open#don't booo me you know I'm right#women are always being made fun of for their interest in relationships. Take Ellie from trek culture as an example#especially if you've listened to their podcasts which were yikes on bikes in some moments#but she's handling it like a champ and doesn't let the dudebros stop her from discussing her interests
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