I Know I’ve Featured This Scene On The Nazi Punch Of The Day, But This Version Seemed Particularly

One funny thing to me about across the spiderverse was that like. You KNOW Hobie doesn't fuck with cops. You KNOW he was standing there like chewing on the inside of his cheek Not saying anything really really insensitive about Miles' dad. Spider-punk went the whole film without oinking at anybody I think his restraint is commendable

Minor fable

In which Soren feels like he's breaking @sorinethemastermind This is payback for putting the whump into fluffcember Listen to Minor Fable by Luis Berra for extra immersion

Soren was tired. That was the one thing he had been sure of for a long time. 

Nothing else had been solid enough recently, more like a raging river. But now it was still, and he still wasn’t sure what was what.

A lot of Katolis was still staying at the camp outside the Banther Lodge, and Callum and Ez were leaving tomorrow, but for now, they were all staying in New Lux Aurea.

Soren had a tent to himself, which seemed like the manor of tents. It was quite large, and tall enough for him to be able to stand up straight in without his head hitting the top. There was a cot, elevated off the ground, a small desk with a chair, and a tall mirror on the desk, leaning against the canvas of the wall.

I should probably check on my cuts. He thought. He could feel the dried blood crusting around the cut near his jaw and the one on the side of his nose. Either was likely to scar, but he wasn’t completely sure.

He walked up to the mirror, looking at his reflection. A bit of blood was clinging to his hair, which was easy enough to pick out. There was another small cut severing his eyebrow, which was less of a new cut and more of the split of an old one, from the fall of Katolis.

That one was definately going to scar.

Stupid rock.

His mind wandered, which was dangerous nowadays. He had a habit of wandering back to moments he shouldn’t be lingering on, and this time was no different.

“Take my heart.” He had said to Viren.

“Soren, I- You know I can’t do that.” Viren’s eyes were… afraid. 

Soren didn’t remember ever seeing him afraid until then.

“You have to do it. You’ve been fine with doing it my whole life, just do it!” His grip tightened on the relic staff. “Why can’t you do it when it matters?!”

Soren glanced back into the mirror, but didn’t see himself.

Instead, he saw Viren’s reflection staring back at him, in the same clothes he was wearing when he casted the Hearts of Cinder spell. His eyes were dark voids, with streams of red pouring down his face from them.

“Soren,” His voice was warped beyond recognition, barely recognizable. “You are me. You will always have my blood flowing through your veins, and nothing you can do can or will ever change that.” His face turned into a sneer. “I should’ve taken your heart when I had the cha-”

Soren’s fist collided with the mirror, splitting it into dozens and dozens of pieces. A sharp pain split through his hand as he staggered back. His blue eyes looked back at him in the broken pieces of mirror, split over and over and over again.

His hand throbbed profusely, and looking down at it, he watched rivers of blood spill from his knuckles. Small shards of glass stuck out from the tender skin, coated in the dark red.

He didn’t even notice that he was crying until he felt his tears land on his hand, causing the cuts to sting.

Soren sat on the cot, curling inward whilst still holding his left hand out, so as to not jostle the glass wedged into it. Hot tears streamed down his face, but he couldn’t tell if it was from the pain or from what he saw.

It might have been from both.

“Soren?” He heard a muffled voice from outside the tent.

Corvus.

“Yeah- uh, yeah come in.” He quickly wiped the tears off his face with the palm of his right hand. The last rays of daylight streamed into the tent as Corvus stepped in through the tent flap, and Soren could see his eyes darting around, taking in each bit of information that stuck out to him.

He also noticed his eyes go from the shattered mirror to his hand, still bleeding and dripping blood onto the ground.

Instead of asking the expected questions like What happened? and “Are you okay?”, he asked something else.

“Do you want help?”

Soren looked back at him, seeing the worried crease between his eyebrows before silently nodding. He didn’t trust his voice at the moment.

Corvus sat down silently beside him, removing his bag from his shoulder and opening it. Soren’s gaze followed him, watching him pull out a roll of gauze and tweezers before gently taking his hand.

He turned his head away before Corvus started pulling the glass out, biting his inner cheek hard enough that it bled, filling his mouth with the metallic taste of blood. He hadn’t said anything then, either.

Soren had counted about four pieces of glass before the pulling stopped. He had thought there was a lot more than that.

It had felt like it before the pulling, too.

He felt Corvus start to wrap his knuckles with the gauze after. Every touch was gentle, like a stream of water being poured over a blazing fire, calming the nerves in his hand.

Corvus always seemed to have that effect on him, somehow. Soren could never figure out how or why, though.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Corvus asked him, breaking the silence after he had tied off the gauze, wrapping around his wrist.

Soren shook his head, before leaning his head against Corvus’ shoulder. He didn’t even want to think about it, but the image of Viren looking back at him in the mirror, with a soulless void filling his eyes, was ingrained into his mind. Every time he closed his eyes, even for a moment, he saw it.

I should’ve taken your heart when I had the chance.

“Can you stay here tonight?” His voice was raw. He hated how the words made him sound like a child. But part of him knew he might not make it through the night if he was left alone.

Corvus nodded, and Soren felt him wrap an arm around his shoulders.

He felt like heated glass most of his life; bending and molding with everything that hit him. 

But the glass had cooled now. 

And he felt, if something else came swinging…

He’d shatter into a million pieces.

have we talked about the logistics of Viren's nightmare version of Kpp'Ar (coloured by how Viren perceived him in the past and perceives him now) versus how Kpp'Ar might've actually been vs some blend of the two as being reality

Tim and Bruce getting into an argument bcs Tim demands to be independent and NOT get involved in the mess of being a legal part of the Wayne family, and Bruce being final on the fact that Tim is FIFTEEN and needs a legal guardian. out of spite Tim asks the person he thinks Bruce would approve of as a guardian the least to sign some guardian papers.

Tim: you don’t have to do anything parental i just REALLY wanna make Batman mad and i get the sense that our wishes align on that specific aspect so if you could just sign here for shits and giggles-

Red Hood:

Red Hood, rapidly changing his plans on how to deal with getting revenge on Bruce because his replacement is actually kinda hysterical: if we’re doing this we’re fucking doing it right, kid

Bruce shows up to Tim’s next parent teacher conference because hey just because he’s being given the silent treatment over this whole adoption thing doesn’t mean he’s going to slack off on his parental duties, only to freeze in the doorway because Tim Drake-Hood is stood there with his shiny new CRIME LORD LEGAL GUARDIAN giving him the most SHIT EATING GRIN POSSIBLE, and he almost has a panic attack on the spot.

Jason’s really getting into this whole caretaker thing. he’s doing school runs, delivering home cooked meals to Drake manor, helping with homework, this was his fucking CALLING. Tim is having the time of his life because him and Hood actually get along really well, but then he realises two weeks in that it turns out Hood is actually Jason fucking Todd, and he has to deal with the existential crisis of causing the very thing he was trying to stop because he is now technically a legal child of the Wayne family.

out of embarrassment for the fact that he failed and amazement at the fact that he’s bonding so well with Bruce’s dead kid and his own childhood hero (who is now a badass crime lord that lets him call for advice about english assignments while organising drug runs and picks up batburger on his way home from weapon shipments, seriously what more could Tim want in a parent), Tim somehow becomes even more invested in hiding Red Hood’s identity than Jason is.

Bruce has just been in a constant state of panic for the past three months and he doesn’t know what to fucking do. Dick was concerned for Tim up until he demanded to have dinner with him and his new ‘guardian’ to vet the guy and Jason, who stopped caring about his identity when he realised how much being a working dad agrees with his mental health and is only actively keeping his identity from Bruce for Tim’s pride’s sake, takes off his helmet to eat and Dick stares at him frozen for fifteen minutes across the table before finally pointing at the two and saying ‘you know what? he didn’t even tell me Jason was dead until after the funeral. whatever the fuck’s going on here? he has it coming. proceed.’

I’m so obsessed with how Martin Blackwood casts himself as Pylades/Horatio/Samwise Gamgee, deciding early on that his role within the narrative is to Be There for Jon as he descends into tragedy and that he can’t really affect the narrative otherwise. He doesn’t fully consider the consequences of his actions because he’s so confident that he doesn’t matter enough to impact the events around him. He hurts people because he doesn’t think he has the power to hurt people. His fatal flaw is his absolute conviction in his own unimportance. WHAT a character

At least two major artists (Lady Gaga and Chappell Roan) making a point to vocally support trans people the Grammys is a big deal in this political climate.

more eddie textposts bc i'm addicted to making them

I think we all need some soup right now. Reblog to give prev a bowl of their favourite soup.

I've seen so much shit about TDP season 7 being bad and like. What??? It's actually so good. Maybe it's just bc I'm more of a casual enjoyer (still obsessed) but like I thought it was really good. It all made so much sense to me, and I felt like everyone was still in character. Like even Harrow being in the bird made sense, I thought it was a bit silly but like, isn't that the point of the show. It's still a show made for kids (even though it gets very dark) it's gonna be a little silly. And honestly I loved that it was, it aligns so much with Leola's Last Wish. (Paraphrased) All children should know they are loved even in the dark. And to me that's part of what love is, smiles and silliness even (and especially) through the dark times. And after all why shouldn't Harrow be alive? Haven't Ez and Callum deserved enough pain already? And like the dragons killing Aaravos so Ez didn't have to, and/or Callum didn't have to use dark magic makes sense. The dragons have been helping/sacrificing stuff for them this whole time. Why not kill Aaravos too. Yes Aaravos will be back in 7 years, but that's 7 years they can use to learn and grow and find a better solution. I might make a more detailed post about this later. It just makes me so sad (? Idk how to describe what I'm feeling) to know that people were disappointed with it/think it's bad. I know it's bc it's just that important to them but I wish they could enjoy the wonderful masterpiece that is the entire show and each individual season and episode in turn.

“Cassie can you come get your uncle out of my friend body?”

More Dionysus!Bernard for our enjoyment 🤭