#long live the birds

[fantastic-nonsense]

[puppppppppy]

horrible truth bomb dropped on my head 20 min ago

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Lan Wangji might be an unstoppable force, but Xie Lian has 800+ years of practice of being an immovable object.

(poll results here for context)

[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.

[maskedriderrogue]

ankheiji but ankh gets to be a beastformer

[kriprii]

My lobcorp followers have food at last

[tothechaos]

my five year plan involves turning into a little mouse and using a sewing needle for a sword and going on an epic adventure to defeat a great evil through the power of friendship and stabbing

[synonymroll648]

headcanon that the reason sophie still has eyelashes to pull on the regular is that grady and edaline worked something out with the dizznees to get a tasteless formula to help eyelash growth specifically to put drops of in her bottles of youth. because there’s no way her ptsd-induced trichotillomania (oversimplified definition for those who aren’t familiar: hair pulling disorder) is gonna die down during the war, so they’re trying to make sure she doesn’t move from eyelashes to eyebrows or her Hair hair by giving her More Eyelashes

[tapestryundone]

when the god was made in the image of a man who infiltrated the mind of said god and in doing so made himself intertwined with the form that god took while also being the cause of that form creating a infinite feedback loop of what caused the god and his creator to evoke the very image of the death the creator feared through the form of an animal representing that concept, and the god has faint, undeniably human characteristics given to him by his creator while his creator retained none of it. fuck

[themintman]

ok so after a depressing amount of procrastination I have discovered that I DONT HAVE AS MUCH BROWN CLOTHES STASHED AWAY AS I THOUGHT I DID so I'm gonna have to buy and dye before the con. Anyways, figured I should show y'all how Nurm is looking so far! The shirt and jeans will be different, DW lol

You get this frame cause my cat was making me laugh so hard like GIRL WHAT ARE YOU DOING

Also I have a parrot. Perfect for Archie if I want to take him to the con

Solstice jumpscare

[identityquest]

tf when ur little sibling has a divine mandate from god but theyre kinda weird about it :(

[fairyofshampgyu]

he’s literally so beautiful and handsome

[beastking-golion]

Saw a fic about vastaya Viktor and if you ask me he’s definitely a bird (or salamander if you wanna super angstify him- cough cough Rio cough).

[mirensiart]

Idk if I have any followers who are linked universe fans and also into xenoblade, but I've been thinking about warriors as a high entia and wind as a nopon all day long lmao

[rabbits-of-negative-euphoria]

this is what I've learned about the practice of politics over the past 8 years:

the time for talking about abstract political ideals is during the primary.

after the primary, the die has been cast, and your two choices are there whether you like them or not. your practical political responsibility still exists. any choice that seems to lie outside the two candidates is an illusion. to cast a vote for a third party or to not vote at all is still, practically speaking, a choice for one of the two main candidates.

furthermore, you are not voting for the candidates as people, you are voting for them as policy. voting for a person is a luxury most countries don't have anymore. you think Canadian Christian voters ever get a truly Christian ticket on either side? Norwegian Christians? Japanese Christians? America might still be able to vote for people in the primaries, but we don't have that luxury in the general election. the general election is about policy, and the candidates are only pieces in a larger game of chess.

the only thing that would persuade me NOT to vote for Trump this time around is if he had the exact same policy platform as Kamala Harris. if Trump ran on all of Harris' policies except for immigration, I would still vote for Trump, because it's materially worse for my family, friends, and neighbors to allow illegal immigration than to stop it. and as a voter, I have the power to stop it.

[sparring-spirals]

Love a beautifully articulated bullshit answer as much as anyone, but nothing captures the spirit of passionate, low stakes debates with friends like "that's not Even true." "It's absolutely true." *voice of guy who didn't account for this in his argument* "No its not >:("