#three entrances

[lucrezianoin]

excuse me, what is this

CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT??

[aithusarosekiller]

'James' type is mean people' 'james' type is nerds'

JAMES' TYPE IS MARTYRS WHO DO NOT HESITATE TO GIVE THEIR LIVES DESPITE THERE BEING AN EASIER WAY OUT BECAUSE THEY WANT TO PROTECT THEIR FAMILY

[whollyjoly]

so aisha just tweeted this....

and im looking at those last two emojis 😐😳....

and i remember that lou said this....

...and this....

...

...what does it MEAN??

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 232

Once more thinkin of These Series of AU/Prompts, where the Class pulls a Tiamat. Becomes Giant Hydra Dragon. But with some inspiration from @radiance1's Blob King AUs. Specifically also the dragon ones.

Now, the nine of them are admittedly far older than they once were. Far older than most of the people outside the cage they were tricked into all those years before, exhaustion seeping into their bones as their ectoplasm was siphoned away.

Yet no matter how much the GIW drains away- if they're even called as such anymore- they never run out. If anything, at least from what they've noticed, unable to do much of anything else in this pit, this tank of green and red, they seem to be making more.

Their recollection of being separate, of having separate bodies have long since slipped away in exchange for keeping memories of their families and friends long gone now. Perhaps they're in the zone, as ghosts, but perhaps not.

Days feel like both seconds and years, words falling away as their Core hums as one. Sometimes a Blob ghost manages to find its way inside- the trap designed not to stop things from getting in, but to prevent them from leaving.

They always disappear whenever the ecto is taken away, not having enough to continue holding on to a physical form. But... the blobs don't stay gone. Their own ecto brings them back, tiny forms almost mimicking their own.

It's something to distract them, something to actually do besides growl at the figures beyond the barriers around them. The blobs don't speak, don't make more than squeaks, but it's something. Almost like dozens of toddlers floating around, becoming more and more draconic in shape with every siphon.

Do their captors realize, they wonder, how they've made them all stronger than they were even before? Do they realize what they've done, creating this loop of ever-growing power?

No, Star giggled, pink and gold scales shimmering as she bobbed her head in amusement, Paulina's darker purples following.

They don't know, Wes agreed, dark amusement echoed by both Sam and Dash, fangs flashing amidst the liquid. The trap would not be able to contain them for much longer, they all knew. They could feel it, how the siphon stuttered with every run.

It wouldn't be long now. They had waited three hundred years for the chance to escape- they could wait for a few days more.

...

Though they won't complain about an early prison break if those alarms are anything to go by.

[hijinxinprogress]

Coffee addict Never sleeps Tim drake ❌ 

Solving cases in his sleep off 87 energy drinks Tim Drake ✅

The coffee addict never sleeps perpetually tired Tim Drake thing is a widely accepted headcanon however that was elementary school tim but after he stayed up for a week straight subsisting entirely on coffee to decipher the bat weekly patrol schedule and how it aligns with rogue attacks/Arkham breakouts, he crashed then when he woke up it was fucking wednesday so he missed his chance to commemorate his discovery with pictures of Robin and he decided that shit would never happen again and made himself an ‘efficient’ sleep schedule so he could run around doing fuck shit, add to his robin shrine, and stay on honor roll bc he was even more pissed to see the gotham gazette had pictures of Robin with an on site interview credited to Vicki Vale (listen bowl cut tim had a one sided beef with vicki vale that included tim judging who gets better pics of the bats but she isn’t even aware that she’s competing with a whole ass child 😭 he’s sitting at the table with a mug of orange juice and looks at the newspaper snorts and goes ‘fucking amateur I could do better’) 

Regularly unsupervised tiny businessman in training Tim ‘Ten hours of uninterrupted sleep?? That’s so inefficient not to mention fucking stupid’ Drake is so pissed he missed getting shots of Robin dropkicking a rogue from 6 six stories up (for absolutely no reason dick just thinks it’s fun) that he just takes at least 3 hour naps every eight hours 😭 he refuses to spend almost half a day sleeping ‘for no reason when he could be doing something productive’ 

And he still does this as a bat but it’s just easier to tell if he didn’t take his nap bc he has less than zero impulse control and he’s just fucking done with everything like the gcpd is terrified bc tim’s saying shit like ‘This guys a fucking moron, I could’ve done this in half the time without killing anyone fucking loser doesn’t he know if you keep them alive you can prolong the torture?’ and ‘you’re like all hysterical and for what 🤨 ‘you blew up 83% of Bristol waah’ stfu and fucking rebuild it?? It’s only rich mfs that live there, it’s just a matter of them opening their fucking wallets’ once a new recruit made the mistake of asking if robin had adult supervision regularly and Tim responded with ‘well if you’re gonna snitch to cps like a little bitch then yeah’ and that cop did snitch so tim fucking doxxed him

Yj has just accepted that sometimes they will find tim in an air vent, on the roof, in one of their closets, or something just fucking knocked out then an alarm will go off and he’ll just get up like nothing happened but for the first couple of months they were probably concerned bc ‘I’ve never seen you sleep?? wtf are you on man’ and Tim’s confused bc ‘I slept next to you this morning wdym??’ and that’s how yj discovers tim sleeps with his eyes open

But one of the worst things about Tim’s ‘time efficient sleep schedule’ nonsense is that it fucking works he’s one of the most well rested and coherent bats even after back to back Arkham breakouts however the absolute worst thing about his sleep schedule is the likelihood of going into the cave and seeing tim staring in a daze but wide eyed yet somehow never blinking at the batcomputer with 57 tabs open on top of being unresponsive and thinking he has a fucking concussion or he’s been replaced but he’s just doing case work while muttering nonsense in his fucking sleep for some reason

[dkniade]

Childe’s Story Quest: theme, storytelling, form follows function

Content Warning: self-destructive behaviour, mentions freezing and mutilation

Spoilers for the entire quest.

��

Showing both Teucer’s and Tartaglia’s perspectives throughout the quest sure reveals more about Tartaglia.

The quest on so many levels conveys its theme: the divided perspectives between a naive childhood lens and a disillusioned (??) adult lens.

One is unknowingly caught in a wonderful yet deceiving story (the tone and form), the other sees reality for what it is but tries to maintain innocent childhood dreams with these stories (the content and meaning).

Tartaglia was once the former, and is now the latter.

—

For example during the hide and seek cutscene, the tone set by the soundtrack “Foul Legacy” and the flashy cinematography & visual effects is very adventurous (in an anime way).

This is how Teucer views Tartaglia. (Teucer literally shuts his eyes and thinks it’s all a game.)

But the reality of the situation is shown moments before, where we see Tartaglia looking all soft and mortal against the dangerous Ruin Guards right behind him. Like, if you didn’t know what the game is, you’d think this is a moment of dramatic irony where the boy is gonna die because he doesn’t seem to notice the big scary automaton right behind him.

And it’s not that he’s weak in general, but in this specific moment he just defeated a few dangerous automatons, and he’s about to use his physically draining technique to fight off even more of them under the limit of ten seconds—all for the sake of protecting his kid brother’s innocent dream.

—

But really, this divide between childhood and adulthood is shown straight from the beginning. And I think the whole quest could be summed up with that nursery rhyme:

拉钩拉钩不许变，变了丢他去冰川。冰川冷，雪原寒，撒谎的舌头都冻烂！

The Chinese rhyme scheme is ABCBB.

Literally speaking it’s

Pinkie promise, pinkie promise, [you’re] not allowed to change [it], change [it and we] throw him [onto] the glacier. The glacier [is] cold, the snowfield [is] cold, lying tongues all freeze [and] rot!

(Note that 丢 is a verb that could either mean to throw away or abandon [something physical or abstract]. The syntax here is a bit odd because it’s a nursery rhyme. 丢他去冰川 doesn’t have a preposition so I’m not sure if it’d be “throw him onto the glacier” or “throw him into the glacier’s river”. Also, 冷 and 寒 are two different adjectives that both mean cold, essentially.)

But if I try to rhyme it with a bit of rhythm then it could be something like

Pinkie promise, pinkie promise, you’re not allowed to change it. He who goes back on his words gets thrown onto the glacier. The glacier’s cold, and so’s the snow. The tongues that lie shall freeze and rot.

English dub equivalent:

You make a pinkie promise, you keep it all your life. You break a pinkie promise, I throw you on the ice. The cold will kill the pinkie that once betrayed your friend, the frost will freeze your tongue off so you never lie again.

Rhythmically and tonally it sounds like a fun and naive nursery rhyme (emphasized when the innocent Teucer first says it at the start)—but the content is about the fatal consequence of breaking a promise… especially as a Snezhnayan (emphasized when the traveler and Tartaglia repeat at the end after the near fatal situation in the factory).

Ohh, so a character’s theme could also be done this way.

—

In hindsight as I was explaining how 丢 could refer to throwing away something physical (e.g. an object) or abstract (e.g. dreams), the person in the nursery rhyme could easily be a stand-in for childhood dreams, huh…

A childhood dream that promises to never change, but ends up changing anyway, so it gets abandoned at the glacier and is left to freeze…

拉钩拉钩不许变，变了丢他去冰川。冰川冷，雪原寒，撒谎的舌头都冻烂！

As Paimon says, “Wow... That one nursery rhyme kinda says all you need to know about Snezhnayan culture…”

Miscellaneous first reactions of third act

Teucer takes the path straight into the factory but the door immediately closes, so Childe is forced to enter from the side with a more difficult path

What goes into a world of danger and unknowingly get trapped? What has to use more lopsided methods to sneak in just to protect… Teucer symbolizes childhood innocence, and Childe is adulthood?

Hm, that overhead shot of tiny Teucer running into the factory with Childe and Traveler watching from higher grounds behind bars— It’s like Childe watching his younger self… rushing into the forest and into the abyss? Oh, and consistently Childe is forced to take the dangerous route and face all the difficulties while being unable to reach Teucer.

aw…

Paimon and the traveller witnessing Childe’s moment of vulnerability yet still needing to keep up the toysalesman illusion to Teucer in the domain is…

(Actually, this feels similar to Thelxie’s Fantastic Adventure where Zuria is optimistic about the plan and Freminet later pulls the two aside to tell them the truth about the condition)

Well, both have the theme of keeping up childhood dreams with stories don’t they

Wanting to keep up the illusion longer and not wanting to let Teucer see his weak side of him, huh…

Yet still wanting to fight the traveler in the future despite still recovering from a serious injury. What kind of self-destructive tendency is this

Ah, the idea of meeting Childe in his home turf is interesting considering Snezhnaya is so far from Liyue

It’s all so sad. Why does he trust the traveler this much even though they’re on opposite sides and fought in the Liyue archon quest not long ago

[merakiui]

you know how in twst they can sense if someone is magicless?

now imagine there’s a timeskip and you reunite with any of the twst boys and they sense powerful magic within you much to their surprise, only to reveal that it’s not from you but rather the baby growing inside your belly? and they’re like confused at first until they hear a familiar voice slowly approaching them

“that’s because i’m the father” and enters, say, any twst boy you have in mind but i was imagining azul in this scenario, i think it would be kinda funny but also cool cause he seems like the kind of a guy to make a dramatic entrance just to reveal he and the prefect are now in a relationship and expecting

I'd say this is very on brand for Azul considering he had the tweels drop down from seemingly the sky in the Octavinelle manga for this goofy entrance:

He would be so dramatic with the reveal. You know he rehearsed what he'll say in the mirror and he went through so many variations of "I'm the father" just so he can really make an impact and drive this reality home to his and your old schoolmates. But then he also can't stop feeling so smug upon seeing the shocked/envious/upset/etc expressions of his old classmates and the way they're so obviously still lusting after you. He just got lucky (read: he trapped you in a contract) and now he has you all to himself and the two of you are in love forever and will be starting a family together. <3

[stardustedknuckles]

Lauren Lopez got within six feet of me and just like that, I understood the draw of theater.

[malecacidd]

WHO WAS GOING TO TELL ME THAT MY HERO ACADEMIA IS FUCKING FANTASTIC. WHO WAS GOING TO TELL ME.

[thephoenixandthecrocodile]

Here is the first chapter of my Celebrimbor and Adar fic. It’s my first fic I’ve ever written in the LOTR/ROP world, so please be gentle. Also it hasn’t been beta read yet so please ignore the typos if you see any. 😅

@braveburattino @angel-astre @adventurepunks

A Light in Dark Places - Chapter One: Escape into the Hands of my Enemy’s Enemy

He’d done it. Not only had he escaped the dark lord, but he carried the Deceiver’s great prize with him and it had only required the sacrifice of his right thumb. Maybe it was the shock from the wound or the neverending dizzy effect of being trapped in the Deceiver’s illusion for Eru knew how long, but Celebrimbor, Lord of Eregion, stumbled out of the forge’s side exit and down the stone steps he carved himself, feeling like a barrel riding down a rushing river. The world no longer knew how to provide stability. The smell of smoke, burnt flesh, and fresh blood burnt his nostrils and coated his mouth with the taste of iron. He reached the bottom of the stairs and staggered to the railing of the inner curtain wall, staring at the horror and bloodshed. How many times had he watched the downfall of a once glorious and peaceful city? How many times has he witnessed a lord’s arrogance and foolishness condemn his people to desecration and death?

Eregion’s screams merged with the phantom screams of Gondolin and Nargothrond and he was torn between being the lord who brought this upon his own people and being a young, lost Elf who had disowned his own family and followed the orders of kings who were supposed to know better.

He should have known better.

Why would the Valar ever grace his family with gifts when there were parts of Middle-Earth that still oozed with the blood his uncles and grandfather had shed?

Celebrimbor so desperately wanted to believe that he was different.

A crash and the air rushed from his lungs as he tumbled head first downwards into darkness.

First there was body wide pain, as if he had been thrown through a stone wall; then there were muffled, exasperated voices. Barely familiar voices. Voices that should have brought comfort and relief, but their unfriendliness only sent a spike through his heart.

“Look what he’s done to himself.”

Words formed in the darkness.

“Take him back.”

Terror broke through his dazed confusion as his eyes shot open and his arms registered being grabbed and he was lifted from the ground.

“No!” he cried, using what strength he had left to escape the guard’s grasp, but only managing to barely shift his arms.

Still dizzy, still in pain, still pathetically weak. The great son of Curufin, a confused, blubbering mess being carted back to his own prison where he would once more be trapped with the cruel slave of Morgoth.

“No,” he said, firmer, finding ground to plant his feet on. “I will not go back.”

He pulled one arm free and shoved the other guard aside, his eyes widening as he realized he was no longer holding the pouch with the nine rings.

“No, no, no,” he muttered as he flung himself to the ground and sifted through the rubble. “It will not be for nothing.”

He hissed as dirt entered his open wound where his thumb once existed, but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered but the rings. Harsh words and harsher attempts to drag him to his feet, but the violent strength of his father at the mere mention of a Silmaril coursed through his veins and he broke through their grasps.

He cried in desperate joy as he spotted the pouch underneath a piece of rubble. A swift rush of wind, a cry, and the heavy thud of a body covered in armor fell to the ground, followed by several other cries.

Celebrimbor pulled and shifted and twisted the pouch until it finally broke free from the rubble, knocking him backwards onto his rear. He hugged the pouch to his chest and rose to a crouching position before noticing the arrow head pointed at him. His eyes traced up the bow, over the gnarly hands and scarred, disgusting arms into the dark and merciless eyes of an Orc. Instantly, he understood, his guards were dead and he was surrounded by the broken souls Morgoth tortured beyond recognition. This was how it would end then? A swift arrow to the chest and the pathetic and pitiful tale of Celebrimbor would conclude with the nine rings returning to the Deceiver’s hands and Middle-Earth taken over by darkness.

Anger and desperation fueled his reckless rise to his feet, standing like the proud Elven prince that he was, daring the Orc to take his life as his eyes searched for a way to escape. Could he make a run for it? Shock the Orcs by rushing the one in front of him, sprinting across the broken courtyard, arrow after arrow piercing his back, relying on his will alone to carry him to a friendly face, ideally Galadriel or Elrond or even Gil-Galad, placing the rings in their trustworthy hands and finally leaving Middle-Earth to rejoin his family in the Halls of Mandos and beyond. If he could do that, then maybe the storytellers and poets and songwriters would treat him with some kindness and forgiveness. Maybe he would be remembered as something more than an arrogant prince who replicated his father’s and grandfather’s worst atrocities, never any of their marvels.

A tall, gangly Orc with long ears that fit uncomfortably under his chainmail hood rested a hand on the bow wielding Orc’s arm, lowering the weapon, and spoke in Black Speech, burning Celebrimbor’s ears. Shifting of metal as Orcs tightened their circle around him and grabbed his arms. No, not again. He would never be another’s prisoner again. He slipped through their grasp and charged forward.

A powerful blow to the chest and he was once more on the ground, gasping for air. More powerful blows and he shifted and covered his head with one hand, holding the pouch of rings to his chest with the other, and coughed up blood. Black speech ceased the blows and he was dragged to his feet once more. The gangly Orc gestured at him, his words cut off by a scream that caused all of Middle-Earth to tremble in fear and froze Celebrimbor’s blood in his veins.

Help me, Eru and Manwe, he knows I’ve escaped.

The gangly orc snapped in Black Speech and the Orcs holding Celebrimbor by the arms, lifted him off the ground and ran away from the burning, shattered courtyard and the great Deceiver’s wrath.

Celebrimbor forced himself to look at the mangled and bloody corpses of his fallen people as the Orcs carried him through the destroyed streets of Eregion. He had once prided himself on knowing the name of every one of his citizens. Now, that knowledge plunged him into despair as he whispered the names of those who had been slaughtered because of his foolishness. They ran through one of the breaches in his stone walls and across the ongoing battlefield that had once been a river: Glanduin. How clear its waters, how soothing its taste, how full of life it had once been. Kingfishers, beavers, dragonflies, and others once crowded its shores and brought music and magic to the world. Now it was all gone, replaced by filth, flames, smoke, blood, and death.

A handful of Elves in golden armor vainly fought the roaring waves of the Orc legion.

Lindon

Then Gil-galad was near. Celebrimbor called out to the Elves, but the din of battle drowned out his words and his Orc captors smacked him across the face every time he opened his mouth.

Through the chaos and carnage they ran; into the dark forest that rested on Glanduin’s former shores, the stench of Orc almost causing Celebrimbor to vomit. Makeshift and frequently mended tents, trebuchets, firepits, and snarling, marching Orcs rushed past them as they carried Celebrimbor to the center of their camp. He was placed back on his feet in a small clearing, but the Orc’s kept a tight hold on his arms, wrenching them to his side. The gangly Orc stepped forward and immediately reached for the pouch containing the nine rings.

“No!” Celebrimbor yelled, gathering whatever strength remained in his bloodline and wrenched free from his captors, pushed the gangly orc out of the way, and ran straight into what felt like a tree.

He staggered backwards and a strange pair of hands - one of flesh and one of metal - grabbed his arms to steady him.

“Adar,” said one of the Orcs behind him.

Adar?

Celebrimbor stared into the dark, soulful eyes of a creature that was not quite Orc and not quite Elf. His black eyes smoldered with grief that would bring even the Deceiver to tears and anger that felt on the verge of incinerating Celebrimbor with one glance. The being’s long, matted black hair framed his thin, weary, and beaten face. Ancient, raised scars peeked through the being’s dark strands. The being’s waxen pale face contained the pain Celebrimbor’s entire body felt but also reminded him of his uncle Maedhros after being rescued from Morgoth’s grasp. That distant agony that could not find expression in any language of Middle-Earth or, maybe even Valinor. Stranger still, the being wore the silver armor of the Beleriand soldiers, the rivers of Beleriand gently streaming down his chest, comforting Celebrimbor’s racing heart and mind.

Adar spoke, but Celebrimbor did not hear his words. He heard only the being’s voice as deep as the unexplored caverns of Khazad-dum and as soft as a rabbit’s tail.

For a moment Celebrimbor forgot about his pain, his despair, and his loss. For a moment, he felt safe.

“This elf has something of Sauron’s,” claimed the Orc behind him. “I felt his dark presence.”

Celebrimbor’s knees gave out as the last few weeks collapsed into his shoulders and he could not prevent his sobs nor his frantic thoughts swirling around one incessant demand: run.

[maliciousmagpie]

They make me so unwell.

Also, this is from S5 but happy Lazarus Rising day, Castiel you are very special to me

[rights-for-redshirts]

Child: *is surrounded and in danger*

Shen Qiao: *drops from sky holding a second child*

Shen Qiao: To the three gentlemen who lost to me before. Are you here for round two?

[bruhstation]

seventy-eight glorious years

[science-lings]

PLEASE elaborate on the phoenix and franziska shenanigans during the 7yg you have NO idea how much i like them

I am someone who loved the investigative portion of Bridge to the Turnabout where Franziska had to babysit Phoenix when he wasn't allowed to follow Miles and Iris. I think when he's not her rival defense attorney and is looking particularly pathetic, she is actually pretty chill around him. She is not exempt from his aura that gets young women to imprint on him and follow him around.

She is genuinely offended on his behalf when he gets disbarred because he beat Miles and Manfred and even her! why the hell would he cheat in a case against a teenager! She does not think for a second that he forged that diary page because she knows firsthand how he throws himself into things and cannot prepare an entire evil plan for shit. However, she does not know how to convey this to him so she bullies Miles into flying him and Trucy around because Miles is almost too good at being resigned to pine sadly from a distance.

It's also important to know that she sees Phoenix being a caring father to Trucy and as someone who never really had a valid father, decided that maybe (ex) defense attorneys have rights... Even if Miles didn't get his shit together to put a ring on That Man's finger, Franziska would find herself in Phoenix's found family, it's only a matter of time.

For some reason Phoenix doesn't go to court with Edgeworth, maybe he can't stand being there while not being a lawyer, maybe he forgot he wasn't an attorney once and got kicked out for yelling out an objection, it doesn't matter, Trucy gets to be Edgeworths weirdgirl assistant and Phoenix is stuck investigating with Franziska and they are the worst people to keep each other out of trouble. We're talking about 'guy who ran across a burning bridge' and 'woman who got shot in the shoulder and still managed to get to court eventually' they are an unstoppable duo when they find something they can both get behind.

If anyone can slowly get Franziska to loosen up and learn to embrace the childhood that she lost, it would be Phoenix. I mean, this girl passed the bar at like 13 there was no way she had time to binge she-ra and check out books on drawing horses from the library. He would convince her to get a cat who hangs out in a window backpack that she can carry around during her travels because it turns out that her life is kinda lonely and she totally seems like the cat lesbian type. She is also allergic to cats so she has to get a sphinx or a devon rex or just the most gargoyle/ golbin looking creature to walk on this earth. That just seems like her vibe.

[rontra]

i made up that guy's design and he still looks nothing like i imagined. which is very funny

[molabuddy]

as characters its too hard to pick but as a band / performers i think deep cut are my favourite idols ❤