#pseudo god

[aunmenosheteroenespanol]

2.12 Chimney Begins - 2.09 Hen Begins - 2.16 Bobby Begins Again - 7.04 Buck, Bothered and Bewildered

Tommy's family arc

[littlecrittereli]

hi !! i love seeing my favorite goobers in sundresses so you should totally draw chris and martin in them. or not ! your choice of course :3

They were looking for Aviva and got distracted

[anyahita]

If your feminism doesn't include Iranian and Afghan women, then you're not a feminist.

If your feminism doesn't include women suffering in highly patriarchial societies, then you're not a feminist.

If your feminism doesn't include honour killing victims, then you're not a feminist.

If your feminism doesn't include women suffering at the hands of a zealot religious ideology, then you're not a feminist.

If you support women who want to wear the hijab, but don't support women who don't want to wear it, then you're a morally corrupted person.

[hermesmoly]

Headcanon: when Hephaestus chained Hera to her chair, it took a night before Dionysus could convince him to free his mother. Hera spent overnight trapped in that chair in contempt and guilt. Zeus, for all his sleaziness cheating, and arrogance over his wife, never left her side during this. He wouldn’t sleep in his marriage bed nor in the bed of another that night. He slept right next to her on his own throne, clutching his hand with hers, their rings gently gleaming.

[melooooo17]

@openphrase123 your fanfic(s but i mainly made art of the mira and siffrin one because i cant remember words for the life of me for i do not speak french) IS???? ? SO GOOD. SO GOOD IM FOAMING AT THE MOUTH finally something to look forward to in the week fr

Mild spoilers for it ig!! But nothing too explicitly groundbreaking i dont think it'll kill your mom to look at these without having read the ff first

Don't mind the shit quality i??? I drew all these so fast theyre kinda shit and i have yet to fully acclamate isat to my artstyle so it's mid

Teehee me when i make shitty rushed fanart to show my appreciation that i cannot put into words for my faovorite games and also authors

peep the rant in the tags

[lilacxquartz]

Don’t Make Me Feel Alive | Chapter 1

kenjaku x f!reader

plot: diagnosed at an early age with an illness that slowly deteriorated your body; you went from being a promising sorcerer to a retired husk of your once former self until he found you, offering you an opportunity to live instead—not that you had a choice to refuse.

chapter summary: you used to be so powerful before your illness claimed you and right on your deathbed, rather than finally meeting your end, you met your salvation instead. or did you?

themes: yandere, chronically ill reader, forced dynamic, non-con, dub-con, violence, caretaking, unrequited feelings, sorcerer reader, dead-dove, mixed pov, potential interpretations of dubious sorcery, spoilers

AO3 Link • Chapter Directory • Next Chapter >

1. Beginning

You were born with a disease; a terrible one too.

At first, you didn’t really notice it in your youth as the progression was initially subtle, the signs not really quite there just yet and for that duration, you were bustling with potential, a promising sorcerer with a powerful technique—a future so bright and aglow with promise.

However, all good things must come to an end and that’s exactly where you were headed.

Even if you were once sculpted with such strength and vibrancy—the illness drained away all the colour from your once saturated existence, replacing your present day life with a film of bleak monochrome, anchoring away at your body, soul and mind.

Not even your cursed technique known for its electrifying power was capable of reigniting the spark lost within you; your body relented against you, forcing you to succumb and deteriorate with not a single thing you could do.

It was a little humiliating in a way—like a bitter pill that you weren’t quite ready to swallow and yet here you were, forced to face reality whether you wanted to or not.

It felt strange being on your deathbed in your mid twenties, but it wasn’t all too bad.

The doctor who oversaw you did her best to offer comfort, assuring you that it likely wasn’t your time just yet, but she didn’t feel what you did, she didn’t understand your body the same way that you did. It was close, almost time for you to go, but strangely you didn’t quite mind. Whether it was your final week or your final day, you felt excited; you wanted to rest.

This was a sickness that made you feel weak after all, so tired and terribly sore.

So when you felt that strangely alluring pull invite you to a place you probably shouldn’t quite tempt going to just yet, you found yourself unable to resist the promise of a good sleep. Maybe even, with some luck, it could last forever and you would never have to live out your days in pain again.

To finally be devoid of suffering.

To drift off into oblivion, lost in an eternal void.

And yet, as you succumbed to the total darkness that otherwise awaited you, there was a strange sensation that manifested in the waking world—an interference of some kind? It felt as though unseen hands reached out to grab you, interrupting you from going under a final time and pulling you back to the surface, forcing you to live another day.

Your eyes reluctantly opened, feeling that something was off.

You were being monitored—watched by something, someone.

Your eyes focused on the person who stood before you, meeting with his chilling gaze from a stare so vacant and devoid of humanity, that he could have been the devil himself.

The stranger greeted you with cold indifference, bordering contempt as he continued to guide his gaze, the palms that he had initially planted firm against your chest now slowly moving away, having successfully done something that you couldn’t quite understand; your body still felt sore and yet, the pull of the void wasn’t so strong anymore.

Did he just give you life?

“It would be such a waste of a good technique if you were to die right now, you know,” the stranger spoke, his voice calm and deliberate, laced with a threat that he kept hidden well.

“What good is it if I can’t use it?” you croaked in response.

His lips curled into an amused smile as he heard your question, those soulless eyes finally ablaze with life, a flicker of something almost human.

“You can. Or, at least, I can make it so that you will be able to again.”

“Impossible,” you denied, knowing fully well that your body didn’t work the way you wanted it to, no matter how many times you have tried before.

“Don’t be so sure,” he persisted, his voice ringing almost melodic as he continued to fill your mind with ideas you couldn’t quite believe, “don’t you want to live your life again?”

You sighed into a nod, however not trusting the stranger just yet. There was something incredibly off-putting about him, seeming just a little too calculated and methodic, as if danger lurked behind his promising words.

“I mean, I want to, but…” you began.

“Sleep on it,” he told you, seeming to tease you as his widening grin revealed his teeth, “you were about to anyway, weren’t you?”

“Y-yeah, but-”

“Then do so,” he said, taking a step forward, “dream.”

The strange man’s words felt strangely hypnotic as you found yourself exhausted once again. A part of you wondered if this was some sort of hallucination already, perhaps one of those dreams that people could have as their bodies closed up shop, even if you did clock it as unfortunately real.

You closed your eyes as you let the pull of the void take you under once more, feeling the strangely familiar touch of unseen hands tugging away at your body once again, pulling your soul back up to the surface, preventing you from fading away. It was again that you felt haunted by a looming danger, your eyes blurring to focus awake.

When you finally properly awoke, you took immediate note that you weren’t in the hospital anymore despite being hooked up to similar machinery.

Where exactly were you?

As you sat up to make sense of your surroundings, your eyes scrolled around the room in a surge of desperation—your gaze begging for a clue, only for your stomach to drop as your body froze. Right by the door, he stood there, that same man from before with his creepy, unsettling smile.

“I will be honest with you though, you might not like what you’ll have to do,” the strange man spoke, his words flowing as smoothly as they did before.

“Which is…?” you asked, sounding a little resigned. Of course there was a catch, there always was.

“You’re going to be helping me with something.”

You blinked, “And that’s bad?”

“Given your prior alignment, I’d say so,” he smiled as he took a step closer, his fingertips brushing against your cheek, “but worry not, you will live should you accept.”

“But what if I refuse?” you dared to ask, your voice barely a whisper as his touch seemed to dampen your ability to speak.

“Don’t be silly,” he replied with a softer tone, his black eyes boring into yours as he intensified his unrelenting gaze—his smile falling flat, “I wouldn’t let you.”

(Not even if you tried to do so again and again.)

[escelia]

Thank you so much to everyone who enjoyed the first part! I hope I didn't miss anyone in the tags.

You can click here to read the prologue and here to read part one.

Enjoy~

Not So Normal pt2

Bruce had gathered his whole brood in the Batcave for their debrief. This time, Danny included. He'd hoped that one day he would bring Danny down here and tell him all about their nightly activities, just not so soon. His newest son didn't even seem fazed at all by all the vigilantes flooding into the cave. Not that that really meant anything with him floating down through the ceiling with Dick and Damian in hand. To think one of the kids living under his own roof was a meta and he hadn't noticed… he had to step up his game as Gotham's greatest detective.

"Is the Joker alive?" Was Bruce's first question once everyone was situated and settled. He had a personal rule about not killing his rogues, but honestly, after what the Joker pulled, he thought he might be able to overlook it. After all, when an eldritch being takes a life, who is he to argue?

"Of course he's alive! Nobody dies when I get involved." Danny puffed his chest proudly. He hadn't broken his no casualty streak since he started hero work over a year ago. Not many heroes could say that, and Danny worked damn hard to keep it that way.

Bruce let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. Out of relief or disappointment, he didn't know.

"Next question. Where and what is 'clown jail?'"

"It's a subspace of the Infinite Realms." The detective tucked that term away for questioning later. "It's a trick I picked up from my Head Guard back in the Realms. It's basically a space where you experience whatever punishment I think fits your crime. But it's all psychological, so no one ever gets hurt there."

"And what's his punishment?"

"Are you a meta or an alien? I can't tell at this point."

"How long have you known about us?"

"Why did you look so different back at the warehouse?"

"You have a Head Guard?"

The questions came in like a flood. Danny flushed at all the attention, unsure where to start first. He looked to Damian for help, but he only folded his arms and smiled smugly. That little traitor! But he supposed that's what he deserved for waiting so long to tell his family. In his defense, the last time he told a family about his abilities he'd ended up strapped to a table with a scalpel poking at his spleen.

"One question at a time, please!” Danny screeched, covering his face in embarrassment. He stared at Damian pleadingly one more time.

"I told you to tell them before something drastic happened, so don't look at me. "

"You knew?" Jason pouted. Damian just smirked and puffed his chest in pride. He knew exactly why Daniel hadn't told them, but had been confident that his new family wouldn't react the way his old one had. Perhaps this would teach Daniel to trust him a bit more. And wasn't it something that Damian wanted Daniel to trust him.

"They aren't like the Fentons, Daniel. You should tell them."

The words were like a balm on Danny's nerves. The others were smiling patiently at him, judgment absent in favor of eager curiosity but not in the cruel way it had been on Jack and Maddie's faces. He took a deep breath before starting in on the details. No place like the beginning, he guessed.

He told them about how he half died when he was 14 and all the abilities he gained as a result. He told them about his hunter parents and his colorful array of rogues turned friends. Bruce had paled considerably when he got to the part about Pariah Dark whisking their town away and his subsequent defeat of the Ghost King. And he looked downright nauseous when Danny detailed his victories over several of the more godlike entities of the Realms, like Overgrowth and Vortex. He left out Dan, skipping to the part where he'd effectively become the ward and apprentice to the Master of Time, Clockwork. And finally, he told them about Jack and Maddie.

When he'd stumbled into Gotham after the vivisection and begged Bruce to take him away, to protect him, "please, I just wanna feel safe again," he'd told him that it was abuse and refused to outline the details. This time, he looked him in the eyes, and with one finger wrapped around Damian's for support, he told his family about how the Dr's. Fenton had cut him open and poked around in the name of science.

"So… you're not a meta?" Duke asked in the silence that followed Danny's confessions. He had to admit he was grateful his brother wasn't dwelling on his past. Damian had been right, they were taking it well. Boy, did he let it show on his face in a typical, 12 year old, "I told you so," fashion.

"I don't have a metagene and I'm technically half-dead, half-alive. Damian used the term Pseudo-Meta. I kinda like it."

"So let me get this straight," Jason began. "Since dying, you won the Ghost King's crown by right of conquest, defeated several godlike entities, who are now your friends, and your mentor is the literal God of time?"

"Pretty much."

"Damn," he whistled. "I don't think I died right the first time. I want a do-over."

Danny snorted in laughter and Damian tutted at him while the others elbowed him in ribs.

"Does that make you a god?" Dick teased.

"I don't think so, but every time I ask Clockwork he gets all cryptic, so maybe?"

Bruce was getting a headache.

~~•○•~~

"Alright, it's time to solve some real mysteries now," Tim said with a gleam in his eyes. They'd migrated up to the kitchen for post patrol cookies. Alfred had been pleasantly surprised when Bruce had explained that, thanks to Danny, everyone had made it home relatively unscathed. And considering they'd had a run-in with Joker, that was worthy of cookies in his opinion.

"Danny, how in the world did you get Damian to stop trying to stab you?"

"Actually, yeah! You guys have gotten really close. What's the secret?" Dick asked with a raised eyebrow. Damian rolled his eyes and answered for Danny.

"I challenged him in combat and Daniel accepted. It's not my fault none of you were intelligent enough to realize it was a bonding tactic." Bruce tried to hide his laughter in his mug while the others blatantly gawked at him.

"No way."

"I have a picture of the first time he managed to graze me in a sparring session! You guys wanna see?" Everyone swarmed him to see the photo. Dick cooed and tried to pinch Damian's cheek, but was met with snapping teeth. Steph, with eyes sparkling, just muttered, "cute," so as not to stir the youngest's ire. Danny ended up promising to send the picture into the group chat later.

"By the way, you never did say what Joker's punishment was," Jason mentioned casually. Danny smiled cruelly, his frosty blue eyes glowing.

"His greatest fear, of course! A prolonged stay in a Gotham that has not nor will ever know the Joker. I swear, I've never met a clown that wasn't a total narcissist." Danny popped the last bite of a cookie into his mouth and dusted the crumbs off on his pants. "No one is allowed to hurt my brothers. Ever."

~~•○•~~

Damian was just about to climb into bed when he heard a knock at his door. He looked up just in time to see Danny phase through it into his room.

"Why even bother knocking?"

"Because it's polite!" Damian rolled his eyes. "I just wanted to say thank you for earlier." He took a seat at the end of the bed and Damian sat next to him, as was tradition for their late night chats.

"I'm the one who should be thanking you," Damian countered. "You weren't ready to tell everyone, and yet you came when I called."

"Of course I did. You're my little brother. And I'd do it for any of you." Danny nudged him with his shoulder, and it earned him a tiny, barely there smile.

"Thank you Danny."

"Using a nickname, huh? Don't let Dick hear that, he'll think you're playing favorites."

"Of course not. I have a reputation to uphold after all. Besides, Richard already thinks you're my favorite. It's giving him a complex."

"Well, aren't I?"

"Tt, don't push your luck."

There was a beat of silence before they erupted into laughter. Danny was so proud that he could make Damian laugh, even if it was more reserved than the guffaws he and their brothers had when they found something particularly funny. He couldn't wait to brag to Jazz about it once it was safe to contact her. If it was safe to contact her.

"I'll see you in the morning," Danny said, leaning lightly against his brother's shoulder in lieu of a hug. He floated over to the door. "Goodnight, Dami."

"Sleep well, Danny."

~~•○•~~

Vlad Masters gnashed his teeth while he stared at the computer screen in his office. First Daniel up and disappeared without so much as a word, and now he was all over the news and tabloids as the newly adopted "Daniel Fenton-Wayne." He was annoyed. He was furious! He was… confused. What had that fool Jack done to get Daniel taken away? Why hadn't Maddie stopped it? How did Daniel end up getting legally adopted by Bruce Wayne of all people? The boy should have come right to him if something was wrong. He deserved it! The boy was his or he was no one's!

The man swatted the mug off his desk. It shattered against the wall.

[apollos-boyfriend]

i think orpheus and icarus are one in the same in the sense that they were both given tasks that the universe(/gods) knew they could not fulfill. orpheus loved eurydice too much to not turn around and icarus yearned for freedom too much to not fly too high. is it fair to call icarus’ love for true freedom hubris when orpheus’ wish to return eurydice to him was equally, if not more, defiant towards the gods? is it fair to call icarus selfish when orpheus’ tale is seen as nothing but love and tragedy, not deluded hubris for the laws of the world?

[heareriissmau]

❧ ❝pseudo alliance❞

mha kacchako!smau

disclaimer: if you don't like kacchako step away. this smau is only for fun. also this is gonna be filled with a lot of curses or expletives because bakugo.

genre: comedy, romance, slow burn, crack, tooth-rotting fluff summary: After the big war of today's generation, the popularity of Class 2A skyrocketed even before their debut as Pro-Heroes. Which comes with a price. The most popular students in class are getting way too much attention to the extent of being stalked. So, the students brainstormed ideas on how put a halt on these harrassments. Or; Class 2A opts for Bakugo and Uraraka to fake date to get rid of each other's strange fans. ship: Bakugo Katsuki x Uraraka Ochako (My Hero Academia)

setting in canon: post-war (spoilers included), and Deku has already grown out his hair because i'm having none of that half shave oh my god. obviously inspired by ch427 when todobaku were running away from the fangirls.

katsuki would never say that but i needed a divider so deal with it.

⸻ navigation:

ochako's friends | katsuki's friends

part 1: heart of the problem part 2: dealth with ordeals part 3: said epiphany part 4: mina's proposition part 5: tsuyu's intervention 1 part 6: tsuyu's intervention 2 part 7: get a ball rolling part 8: izuku's invitation part 9: trials and tribulations part 10: patience wasn't the key (with text) part 11: acknowledgement part 12: set the stage part 13: warming up part 14: class 2a's gimmick part 15: kyouka's shots part 16: a natural routine part 17: figured it out 1 part 18: figured it out 2 part 19: part 20: part 21: part 22: part 23: part 24: part 25: tba

reply if you wanna be in my taglist! ⚝

[the-acid-pear-art]

Really needed to make a Vanessa design bc she was stuck on my head. Love this silly woman.

[danikoshi-doodles]

How do you do, fellow faculty?

[lemonbeemon]

Thinking about how the end of the DLC is really just Golden Order In-cest™ versus a he/him lesbian, an unhoused pseudo-god, and a murder grandpa

[calliebrb]

You know, when I heard there was a massive pokemon leak I was expecting a bit of information on ZA, maybe something about gen 10. Wasn't expecting to learn the origins of the entire pokemon universe

[seventeendeer]

just started book 3 of my ATLA rewatch and, all goofs aside, I do think it's a massive shame how many genuinely interesting ideas are in here which never get to shine because the headwriters are fundamentally uncomfortable with the themes they inserted into their own story.

they want to write a story introducing kids to the concept of war, but all of their main characters are inexplicably insanely competent and powerful, so we only get a handful of scenes depicting the war with any amount of realism. these scenes usually involve very minor one-off characters, and while evocative to adult viewers to an extent, they are likely to go over kids' heads because they're not grounded in the central narrative.

the writers are eager to borrow concepts from various asian mythologies and schools of thought, but they cherry-pick the parts they think are "cool" or "deep", while ignoring or shouting down ideas that don't neatly line up with what they themselves are already able to relate to (see the whole "opening the chakras"/"letting go of katara" plotline).

they want to portray strong, independent female characters standing up to sexism, but every female character must still on some level aspire to be someone's wife (and the dark-skinned girls are depicted as already fitting the mold perfectly; it seems to be the price they pay to be allowed in the story at all. the writers attempted to branch out a little in the sequel series with korra, but immediately felt so uncomfortable they felt the need to put the character through an insanely traumatic plotline as punishment for creative choices they made!).

there are many more of these, but you get the pattern. it's what happens when creatives like the idea of doing something meaningful, but ultimately can't bring themselves to leave their own comfort zones.

I'd honestly be interested in reading fanfiction of ATLA by writers who have a better understanding of the themes it's trying to depict, because there are a lot of interesting pieces on the board and I would love to see them moved around by players who aren't fucking stupid and actually know what the hell they're talking about

[existencebringsonlypain]

I am in love with characters in fantasy settings having normal ass names

[upsidedownsmore]

deck of playing card-sized prints I ordered from artscow just came in a couple days ago! (of this piece)

gonna try handing these out at tennocon this year! I might also order another deck or two since I'm pretty happy with this one (though i might make some adjustments if i have the time who knows)

(oh yeah and these prints are secretly just on the backs of regular ass playing cards cause it's cheaper (and maybe a bit gimmicky?) lmao)

I was inspired to go with playing cards partially due to people's suggestions on the original art post, but also because of this small outer wilds nomai print I got randomly from Fangamer alongside my copy of Tunic for switch! I just really like the idea of a smaller print having rounded corners I guess (the artist is Elliot Bouriot btw)

it's very cool I like this outer wilds print a lot :)

idk hopefully it'll be a fun thing to pass around at tennocon, would be cool to try and expand upon the idea in the future though! just might require a lot more work to feel like an actual product if I ever intend on selling this kind of thing lol