#that just kept getting resurrected

[bacchuschucklefuck]

we let the ocean drown out our voices/enjoying the bitterness/in the chaotic light, I close my eyes and see

[xxplastic-cubexx]

reading Krakoa era out of order bc reading lists online make it confusing and my local library only has so many books

just as god intended right on my friend you're doing everything right and don't let anyone tell you otherwise

[tvxcue]

thinking abt chengqing and zuanli as like. inverses. like zuanli as a public engagement, a spectacle that anyone can comment on and they do, jin zixuan resenting jiang yanli bc their relationship was an obligation he never wanted and refusing to get to know her, jiang yanli fulfilling her familial obligation despite knowing this and how it turned into real love.

and chengqing as this secret admiration, jiang cheng's teenage crush that was doomed almost from the beginning, wen qing knowing this, both how he felt and that nothing could come of it but still helping him and feeling Something but never letting herself truly feel it, rejecting his offer to help, his feelings, whatever she felt, for the sake of her family. how whatever existed between them barely got a chance to breathe before it was gone.

[lightblueminecraftorchid]

Today was the last DND session for a three-year campaign and I am big sad :(

One of the players brought whiskey for a last toast, which was very kind of them. I had never had whiskey before. Turns out I do not like whiskey. Unsurprising.

It tastes like slightly nicer hand sanitizer.

[byberbunk2069]

of course I'm disappointed that the AAA game about how corporations screw us over has a Fortnite collab

but I did remember that there is Cyberpunk branded coffee so its so much worse than Fortnite

[whatudottu]

Hey, I noticed your post on Ectonurite religious practices, and I thought the concepts were very interesting. I’m a big fan of the Anur System myself, to the point I’ve learned how to make languages for them, if that’s not too weird…

In reference to this post-

The 'having a favourite fictional setting' to 'make a conlang' pipeline is all to real Pilgrim, my linguistics teacher let me use mine for my end of term project instead of the assigned analysis (transcribing a conversation between yourself and a friend, which probably would've been useful to study); you wouldn't believe what planet I based it on (don't look at my icon that's cheating :P)

But nah yeah, the Anur System is to me one of my favourite parts of Ben 10 Omniverse since I love horror and horror themed things but hate being scared of them so- the Anur System and the movie monsters that influence their design always has a special place in my head!

Even in my mutants and magic au where I retcon even OS to include more mutants and more magic users and presence where I made the Mummy an actual mummified priest who's attempt at resurrect worked (to the detriment to waking up to the grubby mitts of the British museum) and making Viktor an actual frankenstein's monster who's functionally mutant both to parallel Gwen and Max better (Gwen for magic obviously, Max for being a not-so-ex-Plumber who dealt with more than just alien phenomena but humans doing weird things inspired by old books and other stuff), I can't not still have the entirety of the Anur System still exist! I can't remember who but someone made thep khufan siphonophores and well- riding the coattails of my fulmini posting I got excited over them :P same goes for transylians though I haven't thought much about their potentially interesting biology other than the thought of 'how weird can scar tissue adaptations in biology become' so :P :P :P

[hauntingblue]

Justice for jolyne wdym emporio defeated pucci

[desperatecheesecubes]

Every time I see a post making fun of people being afraid to get into comics I think about how when I was first getting into comics I thought it would be fun to read Infinite Crisis because it was a HUGE event and it would give me an idea of what a whole slew of runs and characters were like. I made a post about some panel pretty early into the event (I think it was a build up comic that wasn't even officially part of the Road To Infinite Crisis so EARLY early) and some blog I didn't know made fun of me for not knowing the greater context of the panel I was commenting on. And while I was naively typing up a quick little 'ah sorry I'm new to comics and didn't know that. Thanks for the context!' they had gone through my blog and started doing the same for a bunch of other comics I'd read, and then mocked me for reading IC when I clearly new so little about comics.

Now, obviously, that behavior is ridiculous, and I just blocked them, but it did stick with me. It was one of my earliest interactions with comic fandom and I never forgot it. Most of the people I've intereacted with have been lovely. Even when I have gotten comic cannon wrong corrections are normally very kind. But not all of them are, and the ones who aren't are so vocal about it.

So i actually don't think it's the comics themselves that make getting into comics an unappealing prospect.

[dent-de-leon]

10 days until the SDCC cr panel and if I get even a hint of molly/king lore and get to hear Taliesin talk about the Circus Man at all, I will be in tears--

[ettadunham]

oh, so that's why i was supposed to save 🙃

[onceandfutureoshainspector]

Danse: If you have the time to talk now, I'd still like to know what you think about Scribe Haylen. Cat: Is something wrong? Danse: No, not at all. Haylen's doing well. I simply wanted to talk to you about her, but I wanted to know what you thought of her first. Cat: She's as dedicated as they come. A real team player. Danse: I couldn't agree more. But I wasn't looking for an evaluation of her performance as a scribe, I wanted to know what you thought of Haylen... as a person.

- oh. ooooooooooooohhhhhhhhhh! i see what this is ;3

---- honestly? my thoughts on Haylen are mostly positive at this point, i don't think they'd make the worst couple.

-------- note to self: see if i can convince her to join the Railroad...

Cat: This isn't like you, Danse. Are you going to tell me what this is all about? Danse: I suppose I'm beating around the bush because I don't normally find these discussions easy to handle. I'll try and get right to the point. The truth is, I'm worried about her. Since you and I are getting along so well, I felt like I could confide in you about it... to get your honest opinion. Cat: She seems to be able to handle herself. Why are you worried? Danse: Haylen is a model scribe. This has nothing to do with her capabilities in the field. A few months before you found us, one of my men was shot multiple times by Raiders. Haylen stayed by that Knight's side for two days straight without sleep fighting to keep him alive... but he was on a slow decline. I decided that his suffering needed to end and ordered Haylen to administer an overdose of painkillers so he could die with dignity. Even though I'm certain she wanted to continue fighting for that Knight's life, she injected him without question. Cat: Are you asking me whether or not I approve? Danse: Of course not. I stand by every order I've ever given. That soldier was gravely wounded. Even if by some miracle he happened to survive, he would have been paralyzed for life. But the decision whether or not to ease that soldier's suffering isn't the point here. The point is what happened later that same evening. After what felt like an eternity, she collapsed into my arms, crying. I... didn't know what to do, so I just held her for a while. A few minutes later, she stopped, kissed me on the cheek, and simply said "Thank you", before heading back into the police station. Right then it hit me... maybe I pushed her too hard. I ordered her to ignore her instincts. To do something her medical training told her was wrong. That's why I'm worried about her... and for that matter, everyone under my command.

- yeah, these two would both benefit from getting the fuck away from the Brotherhood. like, tough decisions for tough situations, but ideally you don't send people into those situations, or at least without the resources and personell necessary to make it back.

Cat: Haylen will be fine. It's you that I'm worried about. Danse: Me? Look, four soldiers... over half of my team, are gone. Each one of them died because of decisions that I made. I understand the risks that come with the job, we all do. But how can anyone have confidence in me anymore? Hell, how can I have confidence in myself? Cat: Would it make you feel better if I told you that I believed in you? Danse: Actually, it does. Well, it looks like things have taken a turn. I signed up to be your sponser so I could teach you everything that I know, but it looks like I'm the one that needed the lesson today. All joking aside, I'm pleased that we had this discussion, and even with all the problems you're facing, you still took the time to listen. It's comforting to know that I can speak to you as more than just your commanding officer. Cat: I'm here anytime you need me, Danse. Danse: Anyway, thanks for letting me get that off my shoulders. I think it's been weighing on me more than I realized. I'm only sorry you had to see me at my worst instead of at my best.

- QUEST ADDED: convince Scribe Haylen to leave the Brotherhood of Steel.

[mamawasatesttube]

btw. do you think tim's funky fresh "trying to clone the dead bestie!!!" era mightve included any sort of need for tissue analysis under a microscope? i want it to include the need for tissue analysis under a microscope. why? bc i need to project my woes onto fictional characters. i need SOMEONE to have strong opinions about operating a cryotome for hours on end. please

[wilhelmina-murray-harker]

omfg my poor sim just had the worst 48 hours of her LIFE dear god

to preface: my main sim is named skipper and their whole thing is that they wanna be SO famous (currently a 2/5 star celebrity). this story is sort of about them, but mostly about their girlfriend, grace, who was an npc until about four sim days ago and has been having a hell of a time

also i am formatting this somewhat like a greentext. idk why but oh well

> you are grace! just became sentient, very insecure about your relationship with your partner because it turns out you are a jealous sim

> your partner is a HUGE party animal and just left their own birthday party to go on some random tv show (the motive trials) and did not tell you anything (in their defense they also did not know what was happening)

> clean up the party and go home to your partner’s apartment you moved into yesterday

> whatnow.jpeg

> oh shit turns out you’re a magic user!!!!!

> hmm wonder what “inferniate” does

> THE FLOOR IS ON FIRE

> call the fire department

> YOU ARE ON FIRE

> fire department saves the day!

> you are now permanently traumatized about fire! 🎉🎊

> go to sleep

> partner comes home at 1 am, exhausted and about to piss themself, manages to get in bed but their needs are fucked

> you have work at 9 am!

> you were so tired you woke up at 8:30 but are very hungry but also don’t want to set more things on fire so you warm up a brea

> TIME TO GO TO WORK

> kfast burrito (that thankfully ends up in your inventory)

> first day of work as an interior designer! you have no idea what you’re doing but you manage to do a good job! (still scared of fire, worried about skipper bc they are all alone all day and have to work too)

> go home to partner who is still alive

> remember that you have to select gigs as an interior designer, pick one for tomorrow

> your One friend invites you to a festival but you decline bc you are With Your Partner Right Now

> wake up at 2 am to remember that it’s your birthday so you cancel your gig

> it’s also new years eve whoa

> skipper takes a vacation day so they can thr

> TIME TO GO TO WORK

> ow you a party hmm that should not have happened

> your werewolf client is FURIOUS for some reason but you cancel the gig anyway (again)

> go home!

> you decorate for new years while skipper arranges the party

> setting up the party is a bit of a struggle bc they don’t know your One friend so you end up having to do it

> party time!! the guests are a combo of skipper’s friends, your One friend, and a bartender you met in passing that seems cool

> skipper bakes the cake because they’re level seven cooking

> everyone is chatting and having a grand ol time and skipper is in their element because they LOVE parties and socializing

> your partner fucking DIES FROM LAUGHTER

> ON YOUR BIRTHDAY

> AND NEW YEARS EVE

> DURING YOUR BIRTHDAY PARTY

> IN FRONT OF THEIR CLOSEST FRIENDS

(at this point i am flabbergasted and looking up how the fuck to stop this from happening and attempt hella cheats, none of which work)

> everyone is sobbing

> scratch that, everyone except your partner’s ex, who has decided that now is the perfect time to work on her dj skills

> grim reaper shows up, you plead for their life, he does not care

> your partner is now An Urn

> fuck it we ball

> cast inferniate on the grim reaper

> he is pissed

> follow it up with deliriate

> hit him with inferniate again, catching yourself on fire

> grim reaper poofs

> the party goal meter is Still Going

> end the party, sending everyone home

> they all leave with “disappointing party” sentiments

> nofuckingshit.gif

> now it’s just you, singed, in your dead partner’s apartment with their urn, on new years eve, on your birthday

> the cake is still half-made on the counter

[savageboar]

remember when scp was all about unexplainable anomalies that were cool BECAUSE they had no lore or explanation and just existed and had to be contained or at least attempted to be contained or neutralized to maintain earth's status quo? but now it feels like a lot of newer scps, especially keter ones, are trying to be the next godlike interdimentional deep lore entity. if i wanted cosmic horror id go read (good) cosmic horror. i want weird shit. you don't get shit like the tree of hands with genitals anymore man.

[scarlett-green-rose]

Bruce knows what death looks like. It's not the sudden crack-bang of a gun and the sting of a bullet grazing his chest. It's not the hazy bitter taste of the Scarecrow's Gas or the laughter, screams and cries that follow long after. It's not even anything like the sudden flash of heat and light that swallowed Jason whole and left him with restless nightmares and hallucinations of the same.

No, death is nothing like that.

Death is the ticking of clocks, too distant yet too close. A soft, firm voice saying it's time, from right behind his ear before Bruce's training kicks in and decides No, it's not. and his body flinches and gunfire draws a line across the bat on his chest and not his heart. It's the dark purple of the Joker's suit, the icy blue of Dr. Freeze's skin, the infinite shades of green of Poison Ivy's plants and the fleeting droplets of blood flying from him every time he confronts his Rogues directly. It's both the cold that digs into Bruce's bones even when he's in the middle of a burning building and the ever present chill of Gotham numbing what little of his face he shows it. Sudden, yet always there and all encompassing; it's honestly more likely for him to find himself without his own shadow than the cold that haunts his every step.

There's a reason as to why the grandfather clock in his office leading to the Cave is broken. A working clock would be more inconspicuous, but Bruce... can't. The day he implemented the opening mechanism to a working clock, he barely lasted an hour before he broke it again and lied to Alfred about it.

The Spoiler's appearance on the streets caught his attention more than any other vigilante wannabe in Gotham did before, despite his lack of connection to her. He doesn't know why he was so surprised to see blue-grey eyes instead of red underneath her purple hood. But he knows the target that she painted on her back when she chose the Joker's colours and was more relieved that she accepted his help.

There's a reason as to why he updates the insulation on the suits almost as often as he does its technology. Part of it is because of Jason's death. (All of the suits can help the wearers comfortably survive over double the heat that Jason suffered before he suffocated from the smoke in his lungs - he's added advanced rebreathers and miniaturised oxygen tanks to everyone's utility belts too.) But part of it is because he's sick and tired of Gotham's freezing winds biting into his bones.

He's not afraid of death - he's surrounded himself with the worst of what Gotham has to offer in his mission to save it, he can't afford to be afraid of death - but he's terrified of what he's leaving behind. Of leaving his mission unfinished, his children without a father, the Justice League without a leader.

Bruce knows they'll be fine, he's spent the many sleepless nights he's not patrolling Gotham fuelled by this fear working on contingency plan after contingency plan on what should happen should he die. He knows how the Colony would function, (Dick and Jason temporarily take over Batman's cowl, following a schedule that sees Batman fading into Gotham's shadows just as he entered it. Tim and Barbara work double time hunting down and erasing every mention of Batman and keeping Bruce's death from the public until a more convenient date and accident takes place. Stephanie and Cass takeover training Damian; Steph teaching him how to laugh and smile and Cass how to recover from the dehumanising aspects of assassin training. Alfred will be right there, as always, supporting the family. Until Batman is just a myth, an urban legend that preceded the reveal of Gotham's true heroes.) and how the League will be structured (Diana and Clark can handle themselves without him, there's enough branching Leagues that most of his plans are redundant). He knows they'll grieve, but they'll mourn better than he ever did. They have each other.

So, when Bruce finds himself facing down Darkseid and certain death, he's afraid but he's content. He's sure that even if hasn't saved Gotham, he knows that his family can do it in his place.

So, he stands still, breaks the moral chain he's upheld his whole life, and doesn't scream when his whole world goes green.

Well, this is quite the predicament you've gotten yourself into isn't it, Bruce?

There's a clock softly ticking next to his ear and purple gloved hand brushing his hair from his face. His breath freezes white, a stark contrast to the neon green skies that fill the rest of his vision. He's so tired.

Not yet, Bruce. I'm sorry, but not yet. You can rest though, even longer than you usually can, but you still have work to do.

He feel himself nod as he closes his eyes to listen to the clock. He thinks he can hear the shifting sands of a distant hourglass, maybe the quiet flow of a water clock. But most of all there's the pendulum, near silent if he wasn't directly next to it. Evenly swinging left and right, directing the flow of time.

He realises that this is what he got wrong, the grandfather clock in his office was too fast. He should try fixing that again when he gets back.

It's a long - but not nearly enough - time before the hand brushing his hair stops and he knows. It's time.

He hears the voice sigh.

I'm sorry Bruce, but I'm afraid you're taking a strange way back this time. Say hello to Daniel for me if you meet him. You shouldn't, but you'll know how he gets.

Time in.

Short DPXDC Prompts #549

Bruce has fistfought death before. He’s clung to life in some of the most hopeless situations. And whenever he’s terrified that he might not make it to see another day, a miracle of sorts happens and he makes it out alive. Little does he know that a certain time-wielding specter is ensuring his safety.

[deadsetobsessions]

Sea Cryptic! Danny AU- Pt. 7

[Pt.1] [Pt.2] [Pt.3] [Pt.4] [Pt.5] [Pt.6] [Pt.8] [Pt.9] [Pt.10]

“I’m having a child.”

Danny stared at Batman.

“…Uh, congrats?”

Batman whips out a stack of paper and a pen. “It’s you. Sign here and initial the highlighted spots.”

Danny instinctively, from years of dealing with Vlad, whacked the stack right out of Batman’s hands and into the bay. He doesn’t even feel bad about littering this time because, “Begone, fruitloop!”

Wait, no, that’s not what he meant.

“I mean- I have parents!”

“Not for long.” Batman muttered and then did a double take. “You have parents? How?”

Danny gasped, placing a hand on his chest to clutch his metaphorical pearls. He ignored Batman’s mutters. Everyone knows the vigilante has an adoption problem. At least, everyone who lived in Gotham did, as everyone who didn’t was somehow convinced that he “worked alone” or some bullshit like that. “Are you naturally this insensitive or were you dropped on your head as a baby? Obviously I had to come from somewhere.”

“They’re still… alive?”

“And kicking,” Danny said, inching away from yet another rich weird guy trying to adopt him. “Mostly the kicking part, though.” He said, remembering the sparring sessions. His mom could kick his as six ways to Sunday with nothing but jiu-jitsu and still have time to work in the lab.

“I see.”

“I’m charging you extra for the emotional upheaval. I have trauma regarding rich people trying to adopt me.”

Batman sullenly handed over a thousand.

“Sweet. There’s a group of shades down here asking if you could find their murderer. Apparently the serial killer is still at large.” Danny pointed.

“Of course. Tell me everything.”

The adoption papers disappeared as Batman went into detective mode.

Danny shoved the cash into his glowing chest and breathed a sigh of relief. He needed to make rent this month so it was a windfall running into Batman.

——

“Hey, Tim?”

Tim woke up from his Power Nap. “Huh?”

“Phantom’s complaining that Batman kept trying to adopt him.”

Tim blinked. “Uh.. what does that have to do with me?”

Danny stared at him, a patiently amused smile on his face. “Just in case the rumor about the Wayne’s sugar-daddy-into the Bats was a thing. Other than that, we might have to confront Batman to get him off of Phantom’s back. ”

“You… want to confront Batman.”

“Hey, man, Phantom’s a friend and it’s ride or die.” Danny snickered. It was literally die, with his Phantom side of things. He held two fists up, and wound them, like Popeye right after eating spinach or something. “And if Batman bothers Phantom, we ride at dawn.”

“Batman doesn’t come out unless it’s dark, though? Or for the Justice League.” Tim grinned. He mentally classified Danny under his “to go to” list. That’s where Bart, Bernard, Cassie, Kon, and Garfield were. If he starts shit, he could count on them to have his back and cause even more shit. Danny, wanting to fistfight Bruce over the man making Phantom uncomfortable? He absolutely is making that list.

“Then we ride at, like, dusk. Or uh, like 10PM. I gotta get my beauty sleep.”

“You’ll definitely need it,” Tim inconspicuously texted the group chat, which quickly blew up.

“Shut up,” Danny playfully shoved Tim. “Wait, can Batman even legally adopt? Isn’t being a vigilante illegal? And how can he adopt someone dead?”

Tim dramatically flailed and splayed over Danny’s carpeted living room. “Dunno about his identity,” he lied to Danny, like a liar. “But Gotham has a bunch of laws for the undead/restored to life people so there’s probably enough gray space there.”

Danny spluttered. “You guys have undead friendly laws?”

“Yeah, geht do you think Grundy just chills out? Plus, we have like a minor resurrection event every few years. It usually doesn’t stick but sometimes it does. Bruce pushed for those laws when Jason came back to life, except he doesn’t actually want people to know he’s like, alive.”

“Jason died?” Danny blinked. Well, that would explain the vibes. “Huh. So what’s up with his rank vibes then?”

“Rank vibes?” Tim pressed record on his phone.

Danny nodded. “Yeah, you know how Phantom’s got like a really chill green vibe?” Inwardly, Danny snickered at his pun. Chill. Yeah, he meant that very literally. “Jason’s got kind of a rank green vibe. He’s kind of stinky? Definitely never introduce him to Phantom.” Danny’s senses got worse in his ghost form.

“Jason regularly showers, though?!”

“Not smell! Like, a spiritual smell?”

“You can smell souls?!” Tim sat up. “Bro, you’re a meta?!”

“Uh.” Danny hesitated. “Yeah. I can smell souls. It’s a thing. Everyone from my town can do it.”

“What?!” Tim paused. “Wait, can Phantom smell souls?”

“Yeah. We’re, uh, from the same town.”

“Danny, what the fuck?”

“Hey, don’t look at me like that, you’re the one with a soul-sick brother! Not to mention, you’re kinda stinky too!”

“Hey!”

“Soul-stinky nerd man!”

——

“I stink?!” Jason spluttered out, extremely offended.

“The Lazarus pits. He’s most likely smelling traces of Lazarus pit on you, you imbecile.”

“We need to speak to Phantom. This instant.”

“I dunno, B. Danny sounded like he was gonna break your face if you bothered Phantom anymore.” Dick snickered.

“Yeah,” Tim chimed in, from his seat in front of the Bat-computer. “He was pretty serious.”

“Are we just gonna glaze over the fact that they’re from the same town?!” Stephanie exclaimed, practicing her moves on a training dummy.

“How does that even work? What does that mean? I thought Phantom was an immortal?” Duke asked.

“We also can’t rule out time-travel.” Barbara slammed her baton into a training dummy, twisting her wheelchair in an agile maneuver that left the dummy on the floor.

“No bothering Phantom.” Cass proclaimed.

“That’s quite right. You all have a warm dinner sitting above your cave and should it remain uneaten, I assure you that sherbet Sunday and crêpe Tuesday shall be canceled.” Alfred stepped in. The Bats, threatened, scrambled to ditch their gear and go upstairs.