#than a master of one
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fragmentedforrest · 20 days ago
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I used to hate the saying “A Jack of all trades is a master of none,” until heard the rest of it
“Though oftentimes better than a master of one.”
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artkaninchenbau · 5 months ago
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People keep on asking for more Baby Robin and Papadile so here is more Baby Robin and Papadile. Now never ask anything from me ever again
#My art#One Piece#Long post#Sir Crocodile#Nico Robin#Alternatively panel 5 would've been a close up of Crocodile's face from Robin's POV where he looks like he's giving her a death glare#Not intentionally he's just a big scary bastard with a Resting Murder Face and Robin is a small traumatized child#But I wanted to focus on the silliness of the moment so you get the goofy version instead#IDK man there's just something very funny to me about the idea of Robin just randomly info-dumping about a subject she's read about#And Crocodile being like ''?????????????????????? The fuck you talking about??''#Robin leaves the ship's kitchen and Crocodile just stares at the tomato like ''...It's a fruit? Forreal?''#(Meanwhile Robin is sweating bullets like ''I called his favorite vegetable a FRUIT right in his FACE he's going to KILL ME'')#Robin grew extra feet from the bottom of her feet to reach the counter and that actually isn't me trying to explain bad art away#In the original Papadile comic there was a panel of Robin doing the dishes with extra feet to reach the sink but I cut it out#(It was a stress relief comic I did not feel like drawing a complicated background in detail) (BUT YES I THOUGHT OF IT)#Nico Robin Age 11 is *more* than capable of cooking Crocodile just does not trust her with his food. At least not yet#She did start doing the dishes unprompted and continues to do so (mostly out of fear). Croc told her she didn't have to but allows it#IDK a lot of people seem to headcanon Crocodile as incapable of cooking and like. Surely Mr ''I don't trust people'' knows how to cook#Like he doesn't have to be a master chef or anything but and maybe he enjoys not HAVING to cook (pain in the ass with one hand + knife/hook#But surely he can cook decent enough. SURELY#Botanists don't @ me I know the ''tomato is a fruit'' thing isn't fully accurate this is just a silly little haha comic
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eldritch-ace · 1 year ago
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I too think he deserves a kwagatama
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hinamie · 5 months ago
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off on an adventure ! this au turns 1 week old today
jjk atla!au with @philosophiums
pose ref [x]
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isjasz · 1 year ago
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[Day 96]
Together they become GUY!!
(Context: On the stream yesterday they were joking about just combining into one player for decked out LOL)
(And Hermittober: Day 1 Frost ❄️)
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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 10 months ago
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Lan Wangji Goes To Lotus Pier AU: Part 1: Dread on Arrival
(Part 2)
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clarionglass · 6 months ago
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here we go :) part one of three, updates to be released weekly!
---
sam says 4 (game master cinematic universe, part 3)
Ruby was at her mum's for a family dinner she couldn't miss on pain of death, apparently, and the Doctor was many things, but a family dinner kind of guy wasn't one of them—particularly when Carla had already slapped him once in the short time he'd known her. He thought he'd broken his streak of bad luck with mums, but… well, seemingly not. So he was companionless for a few hours, and while he could wait for her to get back, maybe catch up on his reading—what was the point of waiting when you had a time machine? 
He ran his hands over the TARDIS console, marvelling at her clean lines and metallic flourishes, the way that even now she felt brand new but familiar, and paused. He’d just pop off for a quick adventure, nothing too dangerous, but—where to go?
He could scan for a distress call nearby, and pitch in to help. He could drop in on Donna and Shaun and Rose, beautiful Rose, and see how they were all doing. Or he could just hit the randomiser button, and jump in feet first wherever he ended up.
He remembered a conversation from a long time ago, when he wore a different face, and his gorgeous TARDIS wore a face too, for the first and only time.
“You didn't always take me where I wanted to go.”
“No, but I always took you where you needed to go.”
He grinned. Who could resist an offer like that? He pressed the button and whooped as the time rotor spun into action, ready to see where the universe would take him.
---
Apparently, he was needed pretty close to where he already was. Earth, 2024. Huh. Same planet, same time—within a few months of where he’d left Ruby, even. The main thing that had changed was the location: he was now in the good old US of A. California, to be more specific, and Los Angeles to be more specific still. And to really narrow it down, the Doctor discovered as he poked his head out of the TARDIS doors, he was in… a broom closet. Not bad, as a parking spot—a bit squeezy, but out of the way. And as he poked his head out of that door, he could finally see he was in the backstage corridors of a studio of some kind. Film or TV, if he was to hazard a guess, it was a different vibe from Abbey Road.
With a shrug, he decided to go exploring.
It couldn’t have been more than a minute before a young woman wearing the full-black outfit, headset, and permanently stressed expression of a production assistant came running up to him.
“Are you the fill-in Sam organised?” she asked breathlessly, and honestly, seeing the look on her face, the Doctor didn’t have the heart(s) to tell her no. And really, what was the Doctor, if not a professional fill-in? This, this was why he had a randomiser button on the control panel, because whatever he was about to get himself into was going to be fun.
“Sure!”
“Oh, thank god,” sighed the production assistant, relief dawning across her face. “When Ally tested positive this morning, I thought we were sunk for the record, because we called around and we couldn’t get a hold of anyone. But then Sam said he could get someone in, and, you know, here you are, and just in time, so—ah, yeah, if you could follow me this way?”
Smiling all the way, the Doctor followed his guide through to hair and makeup, looking around as they went. The studio seemed to belong to a company called Dropout, according to the branding scattered around, and things seemed, at least on the surface, to be… well. Fine. He couldn't tell why he'd been brought here yet, which meant that when he found the reason, it was going to be particularly tangled. He couldn't wait! 
And then he looked back at his guide, still engulfed in a miasma of anxiety, and realised he'd been too busy looking for clues to notice the person right in front of him. 
“Hey, it's cool, you've found me,” he started with a gentle smile. “You can relax. Hi, I'm the Doctor. What's your name?”
“Oh!” she said, startled. “The Doctor, yeah, of course. Um, hi, I'm Kaylin. Look, sorry, it's just that I've been so busy this morning, I'm so distracted… Shit, and I would've completely forgotten to get your details too. There's paperwork to fill in, but you can do that later. Um, just for now, though, can I get your pronouns?”
The Doctor thought for a moment. “He/him, for now.”
Kaylin nodded, making a note on her phone. “Okay, cool! And do you have any socials?”
“Not me, babes,” he replied. “I'm hardly sitting down long enough to be able to update, you know?”
“On a day like this, I know exactly what you mean,” she said. “That's okay, Lou didn't have socials either for the longest time. Right, so if you go through there, the team will get you sorted, and once you're done, someone will take you up to the greenroom. All good?”
“All great,” the Doctor replied. Kaylin flashed him a quick, relieved smile, then hurried off.
Hair and makeup was a fairly quick process, the sound mixer fitted him with a microphone, and before too long, Kaylin was back to take him upstairs. 
“This is the greenroom,” she said, pushing the door open. “The rest of the cast for the episode are already here—they’re great guys, and they’ve both been on the show a lot, so they’ll be able to help if you’ve got questions. And if you need anything else, just come find me or any of the other PAs, okay?”
The Doctor nodded, beamed at Kaylin, and walked in.
---
The greenroom was small but comfortable, and its occupants, two men around the same age as the Doctor appeared, looked up as he entered.
“Oh, you’re new,” the taller of the pair said, clearly giving him the once-over.
The other sighed with a mixture of fondness and exasperation, just as clearly used to his friend’s antics.
“Hey, I’m Brennan,” he said, levering himself up to standing from his perch on a chair arm, and holding out a hand. “That’s Grant.”
The Doctor took it warmly. “The Doctor. Just passing through, and happy to help.”
Grant’s eyebrows quirked. “Doctor… something?” he prompted.
“Or is it just ‘the Doctor’?” Brennan asked.
“Just ‘the Doctor’,” the Time Lord confirmed cheerfully. “You’ll get used to it, everyone does.”
Grant didn’t look convinced, but—
“Copy that,” Brennan shrugged, and settled back on the arm of the chair, returning his gaze to the door.
Grant, in turn, looked at the Doctor and rolled his eyes in a clear expression of ‘no, I don’t know why he’s like this, either’.
“Okay,” the Doctor said after a moment of watching the watching. “I wasn’t going to ask, but now I think I have to. What’s up with the door?”
Brennan huffed a laugh. “Well, the last time there was one of those up—” he pointed to the Out of Order sign stuck to the bathroom door, “—we got locked in here for the game.”
“He’s paranoid,” Grant interjected.
“Well, yeah, maybe,” Brennan retorted. “Or just cautious. Because Sam’s been acting weird lately, and we’re coming up to the last few records of the season, so he’s probably planning something way out of the box for the finale. And the original cast was you, me and Beardsley, so…”
He shrugged one shoulder meaningfully, and Grant nodded, conceding both the point and the potential for chaos.
“So if Sam comes in to give us the briefing, rather than waiting til we’re on set,” Brennan continued, “or there’s anything else weird going on, I’m gonna know about it right from the beginning.”
He turned to the Doctor. “The only reason I'm not quizzing you is because I know for a fact Beardsley was genuinely scheduled for this, so you can't be a plant by the production team. No offence.”
“None taken,” the Doctor smiled. “That sort of thing happen often, does it?”
Grant and Brennan exchanged a look. 
“More than you'd think,” Grant answered with a grimace. 
“Alright,” the Doctor said slowly, then brightened. “So what is it we're actually doing?”
Grant gave him a disbelieving glance. “You don't know—?”
“Very last minute fill-in,” the Doctor said breezily. “But don't worry, I'm a quick study.”
“Well, you're not that much worse off than the rest of us,” Brennan said encouragingly. “You know about Game Changer, obviously, if you know Sam, and we only find out the rules of the game once we get on set. Hopefully,” he added, with a dark look back at the Out of Order sign. 
The Doctor nodded. No, he didn't know Sam, and he didn't know Game Changer, but he could work out the situation from context clues. This was a game show. And with the Toymaker banished, and Satellite Five not coming into existence for another 198000 years, give or take, he found himself smiling. Maybe third time would be the charm. 
“Mmm, hopefully they aren't going to throw you in the deep end,” Grant said. “Because Brennan might seem lovely now, but as soon as we get out there, he's a whore for points. He'll stab you in the back and won't even blink.”
Brennan barked with laughter. “Yeah, and you wouldn't?”
“Excuse you, I'm always a goddamn delight,” Grant replied, the very picture of injured dignity. 
“Oh, absolutely!” agreed a new voice. The Doctor turned to the now-open door to see a bearded man in a pinstriped suit smiling broadly. “That's why we keep inviting you back!”
Grant bowed sarcastically. “Why, thank you, Sam. Good to know I'm appreciated by someone here.”
“Always,” Sam replied, gently but firmly ending that particular path of the conversation. He scanned the room, and his eyes lit up when they landed on the Doctor. 
“Ah, you must be the Doctor!” he said with obvious delight, walking over with his hand outstretched. “I'm Sam—thanks for filling in for us, you've made sure we're going to have a good show. Seriously, it's a pleasure to have you here.”
“Aw, cheers!” the Doctor smiled, shaking the offered hand. “Glad I could help out, I'm really looking forward to this!”
“Well, great!” Sam exclaimed, then took a step back, regarding all three players in turn. “Now, folks, I'm just letting you know that we're just about ready to start the record, so if you can start heading down, that'd be great.”
Grant and Brennan nodded—Brennan, the Doctor noticed, with relief. 
“See you down there,” Sam said, smiling. “Have a great show, and—”
His eyes caught on the Doctor's for a second, twinkling. 
“Good luck.”
---
Backstage, the Doctor, Brennan and Grant were marshalled into podium order and given a final briefing from the crew. And then, with a thumbs-up from Kaylin, that was it.
Showtime.
“Get ready for a Game Changer!” came Sam's voice from onstage. “Tonight’s guests: he can shoot off a monologue with laser accuracy; it’s Brennan Lee Mulligan!”
Brennan, his back to the camera as the curtains opened, spun on his heel and, with a stone-cold expression, pointed finger guns straight down the barrel, before letting the facade crack open. “Hi!” he exclaimed, and walked over to the leftmost podium.
“It’s his first appearance, but he’s already on fire; it’s the Doctor!”
The Doctor leant against the archway to the stage and flashed a broad smile towards the camera, then in a few skipping steps, had bounded over to the next free podium. What the hell, why not make an entrance?
“And even in the toughest of mazes, you’ll always be able to find him; it’s Grant O’Brien!”
Grant dipped his lanky frame into an approximation of a curtsey, spreading his arms wide, then sauntered over to the closest podium with a grin.
“And your host, me!” Sam announced, a ring of manic white showing around his irises as he beamed down the barrel of the camera. “I’ve been here the whole time!”
“This,” he continued, pushing his microphone shut and stowing it in his jacket pocket, “is Game Changer, the only game show where the game changes every show. I am your host, Sam Reich!” 
As he said his name, he looked at his hands, front and back, as if he was pleasantly surprised to be himself, then gestured towards the three podiums.
“I am joined today by these three lovely contestants! Now, you understand how the game works.”
“Of course not,” Grant started. “You know we don't.”
“We can't, Sam, that's the whole point of the theatre you've set up here,” Brennan said over him. 
“Not yet,” was all the Doctor said, anticipation starting to drum a tattoo of excitement against the inside of his ribcage. 
“That’s right!” Sam said brightly, shooting finger guns at the camera. “Our players have no idea what game it is they’re about to play. The only way to learn is by playing. The only way to win is by learning, and the only way to begin is by beginning! So without further ado, let’s begin by giving each of our players fifty points.”
The Doctor, biding his time, watched the reactions of his fellow contestants. Grant looked at the front of his podium, checking the point total, and nodding approvingly when he saw that yes, it was sitting at a round fifty. Brennan, on the other hand, was starting to frown.
“Players, Sam says: touch your nose,” Sam began, and Brennan sighed the sigh of someone who wasn’t happy to be proved right.
“Oh, no,” he groaned. “Oh, you son of a bitch. Wasn’t one this season enough?”
He touched his nose anyway, as did the others, and Sam smiled encouragingly. “Sam says: touch your ear.”
When they all did, Sam nodded. “Touch your other ear.”
Everybody held still, fingers on the ears they had originally touched.
Sam beamed. “Easy, players, right?”
“You say that now,” Brennan said darkly. “Which makes it worse, because all you're doing is setting us up for failure.”
Sam gasped, pretending offence. “Would I do that?”
“Yes,” Brennan and Grant replied in unison, which drew a grin from the Doctor and set Sam off chuckling.
“And I'm not having it,” Brennan continued, leaning his elbows against his podium and pointing at Sam with the hand not touching his ear. “You better watch yourself, because I know how this game works, and you're not going to get one over on me.”
“Strong words, Brennan!” Sam said, clearly delighted by this response. “Okay, then, let's start making things a bit more interesting!”
The game continued as per Sam Says usual, some rounds done as a group and some individual. Points were won, sure, but lost slightly more frequently, and even the Doctor found he was having to concentrate to avoid getting caught in the host's traps. 
It was fun. Genuinely, it was like playing a game with friends, and the Doctor felt himself leaning into it. There wasn't any sign of danger—maybe there wasn't a mystery to solve at all, and the TARDIS just decided he needed a total break. 
Well, probably not. But the way things were going, he was able to let himself hope. 
“Alright, players,” Sam said a good few rounds in, just as pleasantly as he would start any other question, and the screen behind him dinged as a new prompt popped up. “Survive the death beam.”
For a second, everything was frozen perfectly still. 
And then came the crash, the explosive noise of heavy machinery moving relentlessly through a drywall set.
The Doctor was already moving. “Everyone down!”
“Duck!” Brennan yelled at the same time.
The two of them hit the ground within milliseconds of each other, but Grant was still paralysed in the face of the giant, science-fiction type laser cannon that had just ploughed through the wall. 
It whined ominously, screaming its way to fever pitch. And then a sharp pain in Grant’s ankle made him stagger, pitching forwards onto the carpet behind the podiums as the Doctor rolled away to avoid getting pinned.
“Sorry, babes,” the Doctor whispered. “But it was either kick you to get you down, or—”
A hideous metallic screech ripped through the air, and all three of them could feel the crackle of ozone as a beam of energy swept across what had, moments ago, been neck height.
“…Or that,” the Doctor finished with a grimace.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Grant breathed, suddenly very conscious of every inch of his 6’9 frame. “Thanks.”
“Well done, players!” Sam exclaimed delightedly from above them. “But… sorry, I didn’t say ‘Sam says’, so that’s a point off for everyone.”
“What the fuck!” Brennan snapped.
“Are you actually insane?” Grant demanded at the same time, his voice overlapping with Brennan’s.
In response, Sam just wheezed with laughter. “You can come back to your podiums,” he said, cheerfully ignoring them.
Nobody moved.
“Very good!” he acknowledged, and even without seeing his face, the grin was obvious in his voice. “Okay, Sam says: come back to your podiums.”
Although the words were innocuous, and his tone was just as light and breezy as usual, there was nevertheless an edge hiding just underneath the surface. And while the death beam loomed large in the minds of all three players, it was impossible to consider disobedience as an option.
Slowly, they stood, returning to their places. Now they had the time to look at it properly, the death beam was even more sinister, and Brennan and Grant both kept flicking nervous glances its way, ready to move if it looked like it was charging up again.
The Doctor, however, was focused purely on the man standing in front of them. Unbothered, Sam met his gaze like a challenge, a mischievous smile playing about his lips.
“Oh, you’ll love this one,” he said, and the screen changed. “Sam says, starting with Grant: say my name.”
Grant frowned in confusion, but answered quickly nonetheless. “Sam Reich?”
The man himself shrugged tolerantly, moving on. “Brennan?”
Brennan just stared at him coolly. “Do you take me for a fool?”
“Well caught, Brennan!” Sam said happily. “Sam says: say my name.”
“Sam,” Brennan replied, suspicion clear in his voice. “Samuel Dalton Reich.”
He nodded, still with a hint of indifference. “And lastly, Doctor.” His smile broadened. “Sam says: say my name.”
It was easy. Too easy. And as the Doctor looked into the eyes of the man calling himself Sam Reich, he felt his hearts stutter in recognition, because something had changed. He wasn’t hiding himself anymore, and while the face was different yet again, the Doctor would know the shape of that soul anywhere. It was impossible. It was inevitable.
“You can’t be,” he breathed. 
Sam smirked, leaning in across his podium. “Oh, but Doctor… I’ve been here the whole time,” he stage-whispered with a wink.
“He said you lost,” the Doctor said, shaking his head, looking wrong-footed for the first time that Brennan and Grant could recall. “You lost, and he trapped you.”
The other two watched, uncomprehending, but Sam just smiled, drumming his fingers against the podium with an audible beat, fast but distinct. Four taps, four taps, four taps. “I’m waiting.”
The Doctor took a slow, deep breath. Set his jaw. 
“Master.”
---
missed an installment of the game master cinematic universe?
original idea by @ace-whovian-neuroscientist: x
art by @northernfireart concept: x scissor sisters sketch: x sam and his doppelganger: x
writing by me (!) part one (escape the greenroom): x part two (deja vu): x part three (sam says 4): you are here!
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uncanny-tranny · 1 year ago
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You! Internalize that you do not always need to "improve your art/craft" now! It's great to learn and develop your skills, but you do not need to come from a place of hating where you are now! You certainly do not need to force yourself to improve if it is coming in between you and enjoying the things you do. Improvement for improvements sake does not have to be the only goal, nor the only one that "should matter"
You are allowed to have motifs, enjoyment, ameturism, and "less skill." Kill and devour the capitalist in your head that dictates that you must always improve for everybody else's sake and your "productivity."
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cubbihue · 2 months ago
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Genuinely has Timmy ever decked Irep for Peri after all the shenanigans he was put through?
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Timmy's certainly felt like decking him once or twice!! But he'd never do it. Timmy knows better than anyone how terrible it feels when you're punished or reprimanded for just.. being yourself. Irep's just a kid, doing what anti-fairy kids do!
But also, Irep went through one hell of a growth spurt at school, and now he's twice Timmy's size. So, Timmy's options are pretty limited now. At best, he could use Anti-Cosmo as a measure to get Irep to listen to him, but it's becoming less effective the older they get.
Bitties Series: [Start] > [Previous] > [Next]
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kbsd · 6 months ago
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bucky egan // "free" by florence + the machine
the feeling comes so fast and i cannot control it i'm on fire, but i'm trying not to show it
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6blackfilin9 · 26 days ago
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more Shifu
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ennn · 26 days ago
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Let's appreciate how complex Agatha's relationship with Billy is
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GIF credit to @isagrimorie
The genuine emotion brimming from Agatha in this moment is very interesting and I really want to break down all the layers of how Agatha is relating to Billy—because it is truly not as simple as Agatha feeling sentimental or motherly to Billy.
There are a few layers at work here (and I also want to give a shout-out to @trickofthelights for her excellent recap points):
Billy reminds Agatha (enough) of herself
There are two driving forces at the core of Agatha as a character. We know this because her characterisation has been incredibly consistent throughout the show and Schaeffer has talked about them, which is: (a) Agatha is self-serving and (b) Agatha loves powerful witchcraft.
Billy is a powerful witch who did a horrifying thing in order to survive. He's been lying to these wonderful parents. He also just tried murdering three people in a fit of rage, provoked by Agatha no less.
Would Agatha care if he was less powerful? Would Agatha care if he didn't have a dark side? If he hadn't shown to be duplicitous and dangerous and subject to his darker impulses?
If he wasn't alone and without a coven, a possible outcast even among witches because of his unusual origins and power?
I'm pretty sure the answer is no, she would not. She would have dismissed him the same way she did his "Teen" persona. Agatha doesn't care about witches, Agatha cares about powerful witches –because that's who Agatha is and what drives her.
And we also got hints of this with Agatha and Wanda (hello consistent characterisation). In Schaeffer's words:
There is respect and almost affection inherent in [Agatha's interest in enormously powerful witchcraft], as indicated by how she felt about Wanda. She was mean to Wanda, but really she was fascinated by Wanda and admired her and wanted to hang out with her. 
And if this wasn't clear enough, what Agatha tells Billy shortly later about breaking the rules and being a true witch just screams projection (more on that in my next point).
I was delighted that Agatha really did bounce back from the attempted murder – but it's not because she's forgiving. Oh no, I think, Agatha was testing her theory by poking the bear (calculated move, bad at math) and she's glad she was proven right.
I mean, she not happy about the attempted murder but her curiosity wins out. You see her poking at Billy and trying to figure him out in the rest of this scene.
Agatha also hates self-righteous moralising and searches out for the darkness in people – delights in it even – because she knows people and she knows her own darkness.
Billy is different but also not so different from Agatha, as much as Billy or his mom would hate to admit.
Agatha is dealing with her childhood trauma
Yes, Agatha is projecting on Billy, but she makes a choice about it. We hear her telling him what she would have wanted someone to tell her: that they shouldn't be afraid or ashamed of who they are or what they did to survive, that they are part of a community.
Don't you dare feel guilty about your talent. ... That's what kept you alive. That's what makes you special. That's what makes you a witch.
She's trying to be the person she needed when she was a child, because she simply doesn't want someone else – particularly a younger witch – going through what she did.
She doesn't want anyone to go through what her mother put her through. And that's a choice.
Because there are a number of ways a character can deal with trauma: they can lash out and bring others down, wanting others to experience to the pain they went through, or they can realise that what happened to them shouldn't happen to anyone else in their position.
There's something beautifully self-serving but also selfless in that, because this is a way for Agatha to heal from her trauma. She can tell Billy things she may not be able to tell herself.
And it's interesting because as a self-serving villain, Agatha could just be jealous of Billy's power. But in this moment at least, Agatha's empathy and compassion – as buried as they usually are – prevail.
And yes, Agatha was fond of kid Billy
This is what Schaeffer touched on in her interview answer and it makes sense, with the insight that Agatha – like any good actor – does invest a bit of herself in every role she plays.
Agatha does have feelings (as much as they might make her vomit) and I do believe she has a soft spot when it comes to kids, given her experience with her son and her own childhood trauma. And that kids don't have the level of hypocrisy and darkness that adults do.
It makes sense that Agatha would have some level of care about the Scarlet Witch's magical kid Billy. And that is a fondness that has carried onto teenage Billy – who is powerful and a survivor and has a potential for darkness in a way she can relate to.
There are layers and they intersect and it all ties back to how Agatha is incredibly complex and yet consistent as a character.
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onejellyfishplease · 6 months ago
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I wanted to do something for mermay, so here are my designs for some merturtles!
Leo is a Leafy seadragon,
Donnie is a Vampire squid
Mikey is a Epaulette shark
And Raph is a Scorpionfish!
Also heres a bonus drawing of a young April holding her little aquatic friends (dont worry they can breathe air just fine)
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s0fter-sin · 6 months ago
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codtwt is going off on brainwashed!soap bc of his new warzone skin and it’s making me think of ghost deliberately getting himself captured by makarov bc he knows he’ll be given to his dog to try and break him; knows he won’t be able to resist the irony, the cruelty of being tortured by the teammate he lost
he doesn’t fight; welcomes the chains around his wrists and ankles, welcomes the hands stripping him of his weapons and gear until he's defenceless
he wouldn't use them anyway
when he stalks into the room, the muzzle, the scars, not even the blank hatred or lack of recognition could make him mistake his eyes
that's his johnny
he doesn't flinch as he digs knives into his skin; would never shy away from his kiss even if it's tinged with rusted steel. doesn't swallow his screams; not when he always loved hearing him, when he spent so long coaxing his voice from the grave
frustration joins the anger in johnny's eyes the longer he goes without giving up information
just jokes; dark and puns alike
just advice when he can't get the jumper cables to spark right
ghost's not trying to escape; not trying to barter his return to the 141
he's right where he wants to be
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mxtxfanatic · 6 months ago
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There are a few places in mdzs where, in the midst of Wei Wuxian trying to placate him, Jiang Cheng says something so terribly, egregiously misrepresentative of Wei Wuxian and his morals that all Wei Wuxian can do is stare at him—like an adult realizing for the first time that the tantruming child they are attempting to calm may just be spoiled—before deciding to give up on the conversation. “Sure, Jiang Cheng,” he says, “it’s whatever you feel. It’s whatever you want.”
People like to say that the problem with the Yunmeng friendship is simply communication issues, but I think the real problem is that when true conflict happens between them, they both realize that they truly do not like each other. The difference is that Jiang Cheng reacts to this realization by trying to force Wei Wuxian into the shape that he wants, which is submission—“Do as I say! Listen to me! Obey me!”—while Wei Wuxian stands at the other end of the torched bridge he plans to never cross again and goes, “Sure Jiang Cheng, it’s whatever you feel, it’s whatever you want.”
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lemonavocado · 4 months ago
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"oh i love frankenstein! my favorite quote from the novel is i have love in me the likes of which you can scarcely imagine-" grabs you by the throat and chokes you violently
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