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starry-bi-sky · 16 days

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Stuck in the middle of a forest made of

Flesh and bones and they're all scared of

A lost little boy who has lost his heart

Fear's not enough, they have to

Tear him apart —-------

There are two things Daniel Fenton knows that his family knows as well:

He’s adopted.

He can’t remember anything else before that.

‘Adoption’ is a loose term, implying that they went through the official legal processes and troubles of adopting a child into their home willingly, and with the full intention of doing so going into it. That is not what happened. What happened is that Jasmine Fenton found a half-dead child, in strange clothing, in the middle of the woods at her Aunt Alicia’s cabin, and then she went and got her parents.

What happened is that a twelve year old Danny woke up in the same cabin, wearing clothes much too big on him that didn’t belong to him, and with very little memory of before that moment. He wakes up like a spring being set loose, sitting up so fast he scares the daylights out of Jasmine Fenton sitting next to him. He wakes up, reaching for his sleeve for something that isn’t there, and when it isn’t his mind stutters, like he’s tripped at the top of a steep hill.

When they ask him for his name, he tells them, clearing muddled thoughts from his mind; Danny. He’s twelve.

(He thinks that’s his name, at least. It sounds right; it feels right. If he thinks really hard about it, he thinks he can remember someone calling him that, utter adoration in their voice. So it must be his name.)

The Jasmine girl convinces her parents to take him home with them, and they give him the spare guest room upstairs. He has nothing to fill it with.

It’s… a strange experience, to go to a ‘new’ home when he doesn’t even remember his old one.

The official adoption process… happens. He can’t say it’s easy, or difficult. He’s oblivious for the most of it, Jasmine intends on helping him settle in and Danny can’t say he enjoys the smothering. He learns that he is stubbornly self-independent, that’s one new thing he knows about himself.

His adoption papers say ‘Daniel J. Fenton’. Danny remembers staring at the name ‘Daniel’ for a long, long moment, something curdling sour in his sternum. His name is Danny, that he knows. But it’s not Daniel. But he doesn’t know any other way of saying it, so he keeps his complaints to himself.

(Jack Fenton boisterously claps his hand on Danny’s shoulder and jerks him around, grinning wide as he welcomes him into the Fenton Family. Danny’s mind blanches at the touch on his shoulder, an instinct snapping like the maw of a snake, telling him to cut off the man’s fingers for daring to touch him.)

(He keeps the thought to himself, tension rising up his shoulders the longer Jack Fenton’s heavy hand stays on him.)

They found Danny in the summer. It’s a perfect coincidence, Maddie Fenton says before she goes back into her lab with Jack Fenton. She says it’s enough time to allow Danny to adjust; that they’ll enroll him into the school year in the fall. Then she stuffs a canister of ectoplasm onto the top shelf, and disappears like the ghosts she studies back down the stairs.

(There’s something eerily familiar about the ectoplasm sitting in the fridge, something unsettlingly so. Danny knows what that stuff is, but he doesn’t know where. When the house is empty, he takes a can from the fridge and inspects it.)

Jazz wants him to leave the house. Danny doesn’t want to step foot outside of the FentonWorks building until he has something that quells the feeling of vulnerability he gets whenever he does. He tried to once, and he felt exposed. Unsafe.

He turned back around and went inside.

—-------

Where do we go

When the river's running slow

Where do we run

When the cats kill one by one

—------

One day, when the house is empty — or, as empty as it can be; the Fenton parents down in the lab, and jazz out with friends. Danny is making a sandwich, and he caves into the urge to flip the knife in his hands between his fingers. A childish impulse, but one he falls for nonetheless. It comes to him easily, like second nature, in fact. The slip of the blade between his fingers is seamless, flowing with an ease like water running down the wall.

He’s almost startled by it; his body holds memories that his mind does not. Muscles that know which way to move and twist, limbs that know how to hold and how to throw. He continues twirling it, fascinated, as if he were a scientist discovering a new species of animal.

It’s not for a handful of minutes when a new thought hits him; an impulsive thought that pops in the back of his mind like a firecracker; Danny moves without thinking.

He turns, and throws the knife. The pull of his shoulder, the flick of his elbow, is familiar like a hug. He knows when to let go, and the blade flies through the air in impressive speed, embedding itself into the wall with a hearty, loud thunk. Sinking into the drywall like butter.

Danny stares at it in shock, he feels relieved — about what? — before he feels the guilt. He scrambles across the kitchen to pull it out, heart racing in his chest at being caught, and prays no one notices the hole it left behind.

(He runs up the stairs before anyone can find him, food forgotten, and hides the knife beneath his mattress like a guilty murder weapon.)

After that, he leaves the house more. It’s more out of fear of being caught than the desire to leave. But Danny is quickly learning that among all things, he is someone who was dangerous, before he lost his memory. Even with his mind in fractures, he is still dangerous.

He’s not sure how to feel about that — he thinks he should be scared. He feels a little proud, instead.

—------

Hazel beneath our claws

While we wait for cerulean to cry

Unsettled ticks run through time

Enough for the hunt to go awry

—-----

There’s another thing he learns about himself. That he knows about since he woke up. He knows that he left someone behind. He doesn’t know who, but he knows they must have been close; he’s always looking down and finding himself surprised when the only shadow he sees is his own.

He thinks that he must have sung to them a lot; he finds himself humming familiar melodies when he’s lost in thought. Lullabies lingering at the tip of his tongue, an instinct to turn and sing them to someone beside him. He can’t remember the lyrics, but his mouth does, it tries to get him to say them when he’s not thinking. He can’t.

Danny’s found himself humming under his breath more times than he can count, trying to recall whatever it is his mind is trying to claw forward.

(“That’s a pretty song, Danny.” Jazz tells him at breakfast one day, Danny screws his mouth shut. He hadn’t realized he was humming. “What is it?”)

(Something mean and possessive rears its head on instinct, uncoiling like a snake from its ball. His shoulders hunch defensively, he bites his cheek to prevent himself from baring his teeth. He doesn’t know what song it is, but it’s not for her. “I don’t know.”)

He misses his person. Dearly. He knows, the longer he is without them, that they must have been close. Otherwise, he wouldn’t feel like he’s missing a chunk from himself. He wouldn’t be turning to someone who's not there; reaching for a hand that’s missing, birdsong on his tongue, a story to tell.

A dream haunts him one night. Warm and familiar, he’s holding onto someone smaller than him, they’re tucked into his side like a puzzle piece. He’s humming one of his songs that is always playing in the back of his mind, an unfinished tale of a harpy and a hare. Danny can’t remember their face, not all of it. He remembers green eyes, hair dark like his own, skin brown like his.

He loves them more than anything else in the world, a fact he knows down to his soul. He loves them so much it fills his heart with sunlight. Danny squeezes them tight, nuzzling into their hair; he makes them laugh. Then, he proudly boasts something. That when he takes something of their father’s, that his person — a sibling? That feels right — will be… the word fades from Danny’s mind before he can make sense of it.

His person hugs him tight, his… brother? And their mother — a woman whose face he can’t remember either, but who he loves like a limb nonetheless — appears, smiling. Her hands reach for them both, voice calling them, ‘her sons’. There’s ticking in the distance, it sounds like the fastening of chains.

Danny wakes up cold, tears streaming down his face. The details of the dream already fading from his mind like the cold pull of a corpse.

—-------

Harpy hare

Where have you buried all your children?

Tell me so I say

—-------

When school starts that Fall, Danny joins the sixth grade class, and quickly learns more things about himself. One of those things being that he’s smarter than the rest of his grade, whatever education he had before, it was better than the one he’s getting now.

Everyone knows he’s adopted right off the bat. He tells them when the teacher forces himself to introduce himself, but it’s not like they needed him to tell them for them to know; he never existed in their little world before now, and the Fentons are pale as they come. Danny is not.

He befriends Sam Manson and Tucker Foley; they ask him about the scars fading up and down his arms, they ask him about the scar carved diagonal across his face.

Danny, as politely as he can, tells them he doesn’t remember. He thought kindness would come second nature to him, his dream burned into his mind where he hugged his brother so sweetly. Apparently, his sweetness is only second nature to people he considers his own.

(It becomes even more apparent when Dash Baxter tries to bully him later that day, and Danny ruffles like an eagle threatened. His mind whispers, hissy and agitated, sinking like a shadow at his shoulder, several different ways Danny could kill him for talking to him like that, and fifteen more ways he could cripple him.)

(Danny ignores those thoughts, up until Dash Baxter tries to grab him. Then he breaks his nose on the wood of his desk. It’s easy how quickly the rest of his grade sinks him down to the status of social pariah.)

(At least Sam and Tucker still talk to him after that. When Danny goes to the principal’s office later, he wisely doesn’t mention the worse things he could’ve done than break Dash Baxter’s nose.)

—--------------

It clicks and it clatters in corners and borders

And they will never

Hear me here listen to croons and a calling

I'll tell them all the

Story, the sun, and the swallow, her sorrow

Singing me the tale of the Harpy and the Hare

—-------

More dreams come, of course they do. Each one halfway to forgotten whenever he wakes up, ticking faint in his ears. He is many different ages. He is young, shorter than a table. He is older, holding onto his little brother. He is singing in almost every single one. He is singing to his brother.

Danny can barely remember the lyrics, he’s begun leaving a journal by his bedside so that it’s the first thing he can write down when he wakes up. He’s a storyteller, he learns. He feels like a historian, trying to piece together a culture long dead and forgotten.

His most vivid dream-like memory is not a happy one, and for once he’s almost relieved he barely recalls it. He is somewhere that isn’t home, but his mother and brother are there. He is dressed in black, blades keen in his hands.

They are atop a moving train. They are fleeing something. His brother is struggling to keep up, he is small, and young. It’s beautifully sunny, they are somewhere green and lovely.

It is a fast dream.

His brother stumbles on something, and Danny, fast as a whip, snatches him by the back of his shirt and hoists him up to his feet before he can fall. “Watch your feet, habibi.” He murmurs low, a hand on his back. It’s hard to hear, there is wind in their ears.

His brother, face obscured in all but his eyes, which are green as emeralds, nods.

The dream blurs, but Danny falls behind. His foot catches on air — impossible, it should’ve been, at least. He never trips. — and he lands against the roof with a thud and a grunt. His mother and brother stop, and turn for him.

The train hits a turn before Danny can get up, and he shouldn’t have, something pulls on him, he swears, but he slips. He can’t find the purchase to pull himself up, cold fear hits him as his nails scrape against the metal.

His mother and brother’s horrified faces are the last thing he sees before he disappears off the side of the train.

(The ticking is at its loudest when he wakes up, pounding against his inner skull. He only manages to write down ‘train fall’ in his journal, before he’s flipping over to press his head into his pillow to get the pain to stop.)

—---

She can't keep them all safe

They will die and be afraid

Mother, tell me so I say

(Mother, tell me so I say)

—-------

When Danny is fourteen he is still humming songs he can’t remember, his mind still in a broken puzzle. But his room is now decorated with stars and plants in every corner. He has a guitar he keeps in the corner of his room, and he plays the lullabies in his head on the strings over and over again.

The ectoplasm in the fridge still unsettles him, still reminds him of a past he can’t recall. The knife beneath his mattress has returned to the kitchen — he doesn’t need it. He found a box in the attic last year, it had his name on it, and inside he found familiar, strange clothes, and more weapons than he thought was possible to carry on one person.

(Even without knowing that the Fentons prefer guns to blades, Danny knows, instinctively, that they were his weapons. He was — was? Is — a dangerous person. He takes the box down to his room to sort through. The weapons all fit into his callused hands almost perfectly — the grooves worn to fit his palm. They’re just a little small.)

(He tentatively takes a small blade with him to school one day, and feels much more comfortable with it sheathed beneath his shirt. He’s kept it on him ever since, like he’s reunited a lost limb to himself.)

Danny doesn’t have a name for his person, his little brother, nor does he have a name for his beloved mother. He’s haunted by dreams every few weeks, many of them repeating. He’s ingrained the words he can remember to memory, and the ones he doesn’t, he writes down in his journal. His little brother; Danny calls him a bird, he can’t figure out what kind. His little bird of some kind; when Danny takes something from their father — what, he can’t remember what — then his little brother will be a little bird.

(He doesn’t have a name for his brother, yet, but he’s calling his birdie in his head. It’s better than nothing.)

—------

Seeker, do you ever come to wonder

If what you're looking for is within where you hold

Will you leave a trail for them to follow a path

You'll soon forget

Home

—---------

When he’s fourteen, Danny dies. It does nothing to fix his fractured memories, much to his consternation. It just confirms something he already knows; that he was someone dangerous, and that he still is.

When the shock of death has worn off, Danny inspects his ghost in the metal reflection of the closest table. It’s blurry, hard to see, but shock green eyes pierce back at him, green like the portal. Lazarus, Danny’s mind whispers, and he blinks rapidly.

‘Lazarus,’ he mouths to himself. It’s familiar. Sam shows him with her phone what he looks like, joking that he looks like an assassin. Danny doesn’t think she’s that too far off.

He doesn’t tell her that. He tucks the thought away with the rest of his secrets, and fiddles with the hood gathering at his neck, attached to a cape with torn edges swinging down to his ankles. He pulls it over his shock white hair. It shadows over his face impossibly so, until all you can see are his green-green eyes peering out like a wolf hiding in the brush.

He ends up calling himself Phantom.

(Maybe now he can start putting lyrics to his lullabies; his memories may not have returned, locked away with the sound of a clock, but the dead can talk. One of them may just have answers.)

----------

Home is where we are

Home is where you are

Home is where I am

-----------------

Dedicated to @gascansposts for being the one who introduced me to the band Yaelokre, and thus being the whole reason I was inspired to write this in the first place >:] Those lyrics at the line breaks are all from their album Hayfields.

#dpxdc #dp x dc #danny fenton is not the ghost king #dp x dc crossover #dpxdc crossover #dpdc #danyal al ghul au #amnesiac danyal al ghul au #songs in order of the album: the hartebeest / harpy hare / and the hound / neath the grove is a heart #musician danny has my heart and soul #yes this danyal IS an alternative danny from the other au. an au where things were a little better :) but still sucks #implied good mom talia al ghul #danyal is a momma's boy send tweet #dpxdc ficlet #dpxdc prompts #dp x dc au #dp x dc fanfic #danyal is sTILL five years older than damian in this au #no beta no edits we die like danny fenton #poc danny fentons #i didnt know where to end this :(( i was gonna go on but i blanked. i thought about going into his relationships with his rogues and so on.#but that felt too much like trying to just increase the word count rather than actually writing?? if that makes sense #ugh im gonna have forgotten to include things and im gonna be kicking myself later #morally ambiguous danny whoo! we love to see it #since this was just for fun it doesnt really go into it all that much other than like. it happens. and that danny realizes he's dangerous #phantom in a hazmat suit? nah phantom looking like an assassin >:].#danyal al ghul with damian and his mom: 🥰🌸✨#danyal al ghul with everyone else: 👹🔪#am i heavily implying that clockwork had smth to do with Danyal’s amnesia and appearance by the cabin? 👀 maybe #not enough danyal al ghul aus where him being an assassin actually. has some kind of affect on him

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hellishgayliath · 1 year

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hopping on the bandwagon of giving casey jr an emotional support dog cuz he deserves it

and also a potential comic that im working on that involves her but that’s neither here or there pishposh

#rottmnt #save rottmnt #unpause rise of the tmnt #rottmnt casey jr #my art #she's a basset hound #idk how much i wanna give away about her cuz it's gonna be a long while to figure out how i want the story to play out #and i want some things to be a surprise (including her name)#i guess this also counts as a rottmnt oc of sorts too??

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chippedcupwrites · 6 months

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"True knights protect the weak." – Sansa Stark, A Clash of Kings

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sunnysunsins · 9 months

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Schneeblings group summon concept

For god's sake please, let Whitley summon Hound, it would be so based

Bonus, just grimm

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pespillo · 1 year

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Platinum Bones Week - Day 3: Species Swap / Beta AU

I will say i looove the idea of King as a Collector because its potentially ... scary , like i think he would make an even more intimidating offputting antagonist , just because King is very impulsive, he would chase you around until youre tired and turn you into a plushie for his evergrowing pile, and watch out because he plays rough. The Hound is Canes Venatici ! Deep down he just wants to be wild and free...

Meanwhile "Prince" (though i like calling them Silvy) is just a lil guy really really eager to make friends and play, tries a bit too hard to please people and his clinginess deters some away , really wants to fit in the Isles ... they just gotta meet the Most Loyal Friend of all!

Silvy teaches Hound to play nicer and have more patience with people, Hound is a tad even more possessive than Collector is and barks at people but he IS learning.

#the owl house #platinum bones week 2023 #platinum bones week #the collector #king clawthorne #toh au #samsa´s art stuff #toh king #toh collector #u can see Hound has paw pad markings :3 #also he ditches the pants n shoes post DoU LKJDSLKJDS he hates too much layers

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lukochi · 8 months

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Pet the dog --> take a photo

He actually turn to the camera when I was about to took the screenshot

#aaaaaa #my createtion #keep going #but I’m dying #ibispaintx #ibispaint art #cookie run #cookie run kingdom #capsaicin cookie #cake hound #camera #camera screen #blossom #cherry blossom #the fact that I took 14 hours to sketch this is still too much for me to handle #I tried to do perspective but kinda fail #just testing out some highlight tips

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recitedemise · 5 months

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𝗠𝗮𝗻𝘆 𝗼𝗳 𝗚𝗮𝗹𝗲'𝘀 𝘃𝘂𝗹𝗻𝗲𝗿𝗮𝗯𝗶𝗹𝗶𝘁𝗲𝘀 𝘄𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝗮𝗴𝗴𝗿𝗮𝘃𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝗱𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗹𝗼𝗽 𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗼 𝘁𝗿𝗮𝘂𝗺𝗮 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗽𝗼𝗻𝘀𝗲𝘀, 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗽𝗼𝗻𝘀𝗲𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗠𝘆𝘀𝘁𝗿𝗮 𝗮𝗰𝗰𝗲𝗽𝘁𝘀 𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗹𝗲 𝗰𝘂𝗹𝗽𝗮𝗯𝗶𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘆 𝗳𝗼𝗿. This lengthy headcanon will refer to canon dialogue from mostly Gale, sometimes others. Reader's discretion is very much advised. There will be in depth explorations into grooming, emotional abuse, heavy manipulation, and suicide.

First, let it be said that Gale, a mortal man, will always be the powerless one in his dynamic with Mystra. Of course, nearing forty years of age, he remains entirely responsible for his own actions, his own foul blunders and every hurt he'll cause, but it's important to remember who formed much of who he is: his goddess, his deity, and egregiously, his lover.

Mystra is power. Mystra is possibility. She knows what sway she holds over her Ioyal, vulnerable, and entirely mortal followers. In all ways that matter, they are but lambs she can steer and herd as she sees fit. She knows they can't deny her, and knows they'll never want to. Gale's sheer servitude and complete devotion; to the very quick of his bones, she lapped them up.

Gale: I was just... practising an incantation. Player Character: No, there's more to it than that. I know devotion when I see it. Gale: What can I say? She's—she's Mystra. I can't describe it, the need I sometimes feel to see her - to draw the filaments of fantasy into existence... Mystra is all magic. And as far as I'm concerned, she is all creation. Player Character: I didn't realize the depth of your devotion. Gale: Magic is... my life. I've been touched with the Weave for as long as I can remember. There's nothing like it.

Gale, orb in his chest, doomed to be eaten by the very thing he loves the most, still speaks so reverently of the goddess, of his lover that has left him to die. He conjures images of her memory—and she is all the while forgetting about his.

Minsc: Gale reminds me of vremyonni of my homeland. The man-mages of Rasheman. While the girl-folk go on to rule as wychlaran, Weave-touched boys were hidden away. Trained to work their craft in silence and secrecy. It is an old custom, not well-observed. In truth, I thought it born of caution after some catastrophe of wizardly men-folk of old. Now, I wonder if it was not done to hide them from Mystra, and the snares she sets for young and prideful boys, hm?

Tales of Mystra's treachery spreads far, leaving those familiar waters surrounding Gale's tower in Waterdeep. They whisper her name, afraid to utter it one time too many, suspecting, perhaps, that she'll show in their mirror like some Faerûnian Bloody Mary.

Talent rouses Mystra. She can see who uses the gift of the Weave and feel them, sampling whatever delight sings their veins as they pull from her domain. Not unlike a spider, she'll follows every tremor that strikes her as just a sliver more profound; and Gale, a prodigy, plucked the Weave's web to so garner her focus. And like some black widow scurrying, she surged down that ripple to prey on a boy. There, Gale, so impressionable, was just a mite older than twelve whole summers. He sat so stunned, beholding Mystra as she lured him into the cradle of her Astral domain. Bathed in her magic, pleasantly coddled within that glittering cosmos, Gale felt blessed in a way he'll struggle always to recount, no word, no language, fit to describe it. He felt chosen. He felt seen. And potently, to a child, he felt loved. Now, imagine a child experiencing something like that. Imagine what they'd think, how brilliant they must be when stood beside the rest. She told him he was gifted, made his heart swell not unlike a child's appetite for praise. She knew what she was doing by offering these morsels, by preying on a child's most delicate mind, and Gale, child prodigy, was already so awash in the idea that his value was in magic. Unfortunately, Gale, susceptible, had no way of squirming out of his goddess' grasp.

Reality: She's laid down the seeds to creep into his heart. When he's just old enough—seventeen's sufficient, she thinks—she stakes her claim and makes him hers.

Gale: My virtuosic talent once caught the eye of the goddess of magic herself, Mystra, who named me her chosen and her lover.

Gale is stunned when she takes him to bed the first time. (Is this really happening?) Mystra claims his mouth in a kiss, taking everything she knows he offers so willingly. Mystra, of course, is not so stunned.

Dream Visitor: An elder brain... one of the cruelest and most powerful creatures in existence, enslaved by mere mortals. Gale, tasked with Mystra's missive to sacrifice himself: This is it... I must do as Mystra commands.

Gale has worryingly low self-esteem beyond his magic. As already explored, his entire worth as a man hinged on and was built entirely off his talent as a wizard. He fought tooth and nail for any crumb of affection Mystra would offer his way, something she only gave him at all seeing his gift as a child. He wants her forgiveness. He desires it genuinely. He believes so firmly that he has wronged his goddess, buying into the idea that sacrificing himself will right his wrong. She holds such dominion over him, making him reduce his confidence in himself into a mere, trifling pittance; after all, she wasn't just his lover, but the patron deity he prays to. And regardless, Gale is a people pleaser, his initial acceptance of her missive coming as no surprise.

After all, Gale, at times, goes to incredible lengths to appease his audience. This habit, compulsion, impulse, whatever you want to call it, is a quality that was relentlessly exacerbated in his relationship with his immortal paramour. He wanted to content her, felt all he did was never enough, for as a matter of principle, he was oceans, leagues, and entire galaxies beneath her. Gale figures: well, how can a short-lived dalliance satisfy a god? He had to make her happy. Indeed, he'd done everything she'd ask. He'd bedded her how she liked, kissed her how she wanted, and of course, even said those words she'd said tasted best. She was his lover, a lover that never tended to his own needs and pleasures, and he fooled himself into thinking that's enough. He won't bend backwards for everyone, mind you, but if you're of the ones he would, he would stop at nothing to make you happy. After all, people pleasing is a way to keep oneself safe, a trauma response to sidestep discomfort, and though it achieves only a direly tentative peace, when that is all you've been fed, you will pursue it.

Gale did not want to lose Mystra; he couldn't bare the sting of it. And so, when Elminster visited him, Mystra's call for his death offered oh so callously, Gale, heartbroken, felt that part of him kick up. He couldn't endure the guilt, was so hungry for a chance to let his weighty heart breathe, even if it meant dying in the process.

At least this way, he'll finally do something right. At least this way, Mystra will forgive him, and all his friends will survive.

Gale: After I was afflicted with my condition, I locked myself in my tower for an entire year. I was inconsolable, wallowing in my self-inflicted tragedy. I'd given up on myself.

As a byproduct of people pleasing, Gale, too, is all too quick to accept all guilt. He self-deprecates, gaslights himself to a venomous degree, and twists his reality in so cruel a way as to make him the villain Mystra'd led him to believe. He self-flagellates himself, the first one in the world who will throw Gale of Waterdeep a mental punishment. Mystra's a goddess, after all, seen as utterly faultless, and twined so tightly with a being so mighty in esteem, Gale slipped into the role of the guilty often. When tied with anyone with grandeur like this, so immeasurable in their own self worth, it's important to keep in mind this: you are nothing but a prop in which to fulfill their ego. Gale was not Mystra's, not by a long shot. Rather, Gale was a tool, simply her mortal extension.

And he took every blow meant for her... a common and terrible habit for many people in imbalanced, ego-fueled relationships.

Gale's life beyond her wasn't something that interested her. She took most of Gale's devotion, manipulated his life to be her sole mantle of attention, for Mystra is not a goddess that shares very happily.

Indeed, long before his self-imposed isolation, this jealous deity did well at keeping him isolated.

Player Character: Picture kissing him. With tenderness. Then, with passion. Gale: I... I didn't think— Narrator: You perceive quick-fire embarrassment, trepidation, and finally... elation.

And so, cheated out of love, so reduced in his value as a man and lover both, suffice to say, Gale's slow to believe he can ever be loved. That's what happens when you're with someone so cold, consistent only in their infinite lack of respect. Gale looks at fondness, and he feels—confounded, to be sure. He thinks, is this truly mine to have? He doesn't know what to do, is nearly forty in game, and despite having lived decades devoted to one relationship, he feels, at the same time, entirely out of depth. To be frank, he greets it with embarrassment, like he's been caught red handed with something not his at all. He's like a child caught rummaging with his hand in a cookie jar, all this isn't mine to enjoy, not mine to indulge in, but he thinks, startled, but god, do I want. He wars with disbelief, uncertainty, and need, and in so many ways feeling utterly starved, with just a glimmer of affection, he falls fast into love.

Scenario: (And if properly romanced, it changes his world.)

Gale: In her (Mystra's) likeness, I used to read a thousand stories. She was beauty, wisdom, elegance, power... she contained universes. But now... it is hard to see any redeeming qualities in a lover who condemned you to death. I'd much rather gaze into your eyes than hers. Yours are capable of tenderness and feeling... No god could ever compare.

He says it with sincerity. There is such wonder, such love, and such awe in his eyes. He makes the act of kissing him feel like you've just reached into the trenches to but pluck him soundly from his ruin and despair. You think, Gale Dekarios, how unloved have you been all this time?

Gale: To know you love me for the man I am, and not the magic I command… none have loved me so purely before.

The answer is: entirely.

For so long, Gale thought love was simply being chosen. He knew nothing of being favored for the quality of his character, to be cherished and accepted even in those ways he fumbles and lacks. Again, his needs were seldom met, often treated with utter indifference by Mystra herself, and to meet someone so eager to treasure him, dote on him in a way his heart, his body is somberly new to, raptures his spirit and captures his soul. He's seen for who he is. He's... loved, desired for his silly quips, his easy smiles, and his growing affections. He bares himself to them, and in turn, they cradle his heart like something entirely precious. Gale thinks this has to be dream. He says, at times, you are more than I deserve.

Scenario: (But sometimes, he hopes too strongly and loves too greatly. As it always does, then, like he's once more wanted too much, he watches something beautiful slip right through his fingers. Of course, Gale Dekarios. Of course it does.)

Player Character: I didn't know you felt so strongly, Gale. Gale: Perhaps I should have done more. Been more charming, more flattering, harder to reach... but I was only myself, and sometimes that isn't enough.

They don't love him anymore. It breaks his heart. He hurts so much, so profoundly and deeply, and he doesn't realize that he breaks their heart in turn.

Unable to ever voice his feelings with Mystra in any way that amounted to much, Gale's a tendency to wallow, expressions coming off as potentially 'guilt-tripping' and even, on occasion, passive aggressive. Firstly: Gale NEVER means to manipulate emotions, and he's no intention of twisting anyone's arm, either. Fact is, Gale, never taken seriously when he'd bared his vulnerabilities to the Mother of the Weave, can end up saying just a little too much. He feels very deeply, and for most his life, seldom had an outlet for these weeping sentiments. He sometimes lets slip raw words and oftentimes heart-wrenching expressions; all the same, it's not so pitiful as to shepherd an outcome, but rather, is a gesture taken by a man so desperate to be heard. It may feel like scheming, but the truth is far, far greyer: feeling as though he's no right to share the depth of his heart, Gale simply lets it geyser out in a way he can't cork up. In ways he doesn't realize, he's adapted to this ache, passively reacting so his feelings can at least be seen and recognized—no matter how pitifully unwhole. With someone who values so little his thoughts... well, when he slips into these moods, one can hardly feign shock.

Situation: (And if no one shows him trust and tenderness, any true care in his character or worth, Gale gets swallowed up by how wronged he was.

He thinks: Let me be a god. Let no one hurt like me anymore.)

Gale: They only want us to serve them, pray to them...and ultimately, to die for them. But what if we didn't need them? What if we wielded their power instead and helped ourselves in all the ways they refuse to? I could make that happen.

Gale is not above anger, and as stated, he is not above pettiness; however, more than that, he is not above righting himself whatever wound he was struck. Gale, if not offered much by ways of affection, understanding, is made to believe that one idea that's lived growing in his mind: Gale Dekarios is far from sufficient; he has to be more. He has to be better. Gale, in such an unkind ending for himself, sips too desperately—and perhaps greedily, too, but desperately serves as a far better word—at that idea that he needs power. And so, wresting the Crown of Karsus for himself, he spites Mystra in his own way, becoming a god he feels is leagues better than she will ever be. Damn her thoroughly. Damn her ego, her power, and her endless indifference. He will serve the people, protect them, and in ways Mystra never could, better the world.

Situation: But as a god, he loses all sense of his kindness. Humanity. All who loved him leave him, and even Tara spurns the image he's become. With power, he's gained the respect he thought he always wanted... but in turn, he lost in even greater measure all the love he's known.

Endnote: But healing, knowing to forgive himself and knowing he's deserving of care simply for being Gale Dekarios will remain, always, the best path for him.

#HEADCANON.#Oh... anyway. This. Was. A lot.#And it was a lot for me mentally and emotionally to write.#So much of this hit home.#Gale isn't perfect. He can be petty and immature—a byproduct of not being all too good at venting his frustrations when #it gets to a point. He has very bad self esteem. He is not forgiving of himself and is too forgiving of Mystra.#He endured FOR DECADES the cold indifference of a goddess he called his lover.#I know people dog on him because he's a grown man with these hurts and traumas and responses #but just because his trauma manifested in ways you don't find palatable or hot or sexy #doesn't mean they aren't scars left by trauma buddy!!!#And quite frankly that bit about God Gale sounding vindictive and angry #yeah! SOMETIMES people who have so cold and uncaring and belittling a partner #end up angry. You shoved someone into a corner and hounded them for SO LONG. Don't start crying when they rear back on you and bite #I have a deep connection with godhood Gale. But obviously a healed Gale that finds love and acceptance in himself is so much healthier.#I'm rooting for you Gale (always).#So much of this was typed up with a lot of first hand experience so... to say this was a Gale exploration #as much as a way to navigate my own trauma is an apt one.#No two tales of abuse are alike of course. Gale's experience isn't my experience. But I can sympathize a great deal.#TL;DR: This meta post means a lot to me. K. Thanks.

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hamable · 3 months

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Is it just me or is that cold open to Crusty’s nigh inaccessible to new viewers?

We end episode 6 on the beach at Santa Monica. How tf did we get to a mattress shop? How do they know that’s where to underworld entrance is? I know why we’re there but the show certainly didn’t tell me.

Idk, There’s a lot of things like this where the show strikes the wrong balance between expected prerequisite information and character/world building logic.

#I don’t mean to hound of the episode too much bc parts were really good and I’m having fun #but I really wanna hear from new fans like. is some of this stuff making sense on its own? I really wanna hear from y’all #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #pjo tv show #pjo spoilers

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glittergoats · 1 year

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I'm not done with this game but that won't stop me from making impulsive animatics regardless

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petbrain · 1 year

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you dont understand. youre a "im a fully trained tactical personal protection k9 with the sharpest fangs the blackest pelt and insatiably blood thirsty" canine nonhuman and im "boof boof i ate a sock" canine nonhuman.

(we can kiss btw if you want to 👀)

#srsly i think these doggies are the coolest...#is a cute emo werewolf gf too much to wish for??#confessions of the hound #otherkin #therian #alterhuman #therianthropy #otherkinity #dog therian #dogkin #canine kin #nonhuman #werewolf #werewolf kin #wolf therian

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leiandroid · 1 year

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otayuri week | day five - workplace au

otabek works the nightshift of a movie store, and yuri is a film and photography student that comes to rent&buy movies.

@otayuriweek22

canons and scenes of this verse discussed at length under the cut >>

as usual, i can't write for shit and bridge ideas to anything cohesive or create dialogue that isn't cringe and unnatural so have this list instead (i need y'all to get the full picture ya know) >>

yuri is a film & photography student (more interested in photography over film, which ended up meaning he has a lacking knowledge of movies and the programme requires him to know and watch a lot of them)

otabek is the night shift worker of the movie store. georgi works the day shifts.

yuri started going there to rent/buy movies. at first he went during the day and had initially asked georgi for suggestions but after his third time coming back with georgi's recommendations, which was another over dramatic and terrible romance, he stopped asking. one day, he was late going home from university so he stopped by the movie place at night and that's when he first met otabek on his night shift.

otabek is a semi-pretentions "film not movies" kind of guy, when he saw the stack of films yuri intended to leave with he didn't say anything, only had a look on his face which yuri straight up asked "what's that look for asshole?" to which otabek said nothing and just rang up the tapes and asked "you buying or renting?"

when he returned the movies the next time it was during the day, and yuri went back to rent movies some nights later after evening classes. this time, when he entered the shop otabek was digging through a box of new arrivals and was stacking them on the shelves. yuri browsed whatever movies were on display til curiosity brought him to the box and he asked otabek if there was anything interesting to watch in there.

otabek, finally puts his largely useless (but in this case, useful to yuri) movie knowledge to action. he rifles through the tapes and hands him a film. yuri looks at it with with pursed lips but takes it anyway "this better be good" he warns. otabek just shrugs. yuri adds 2 other movies to take with him from the new arrivals.

this time yuri intentionally returns at night to catch otabek, he puts the tapes on the counter and says "i liked it" then turns away to go peruse the movies. he comes back with 3, and otabek rings them up as yuri watches with mild interest. then asks if he has another recommendation to which otabek stops what he's doing, bites into the lollipop (cherry) he was sucking on, and chews on it as he goes around the counter and walks towards a specific shelf and grabs a tape off of it and rings it up without consulting or showing it to yuri. yuri rolls his eyes before leaving.

yuri takes notice of several things: otabek has a barbell piercing on his left eyebrow, an eagle tattoo on his neck with the wings wrapping around the sides (the lattice of the kazakhstan flag is a band tattooed around his left upper thigh, but yuri doesn't know of it), and a small hoop earring on his right ear. (the gay ear). (also this is set in the 90s). yuri momentarily wonders if he's gay but immediately dismisses it because otabek seems painfully straight and concludes he probably just didn't know about it. it's more ironic than a rule anyway.

yuri has both ears pierced with black studs. he likes to wear rings on both hands and carries his camera with him everywhere. he develops his own photos, has developed them for a long time. he had a bugdet redroom he made in his wardrobe at home in moscow (with blackout curtains, drilling a hole into the back to put in a bulb he painted red, and lined the floor of it with a basin and enlarger). now he uses the university's lofty development studio and practically lives in it. (they are in st petersburg).

otabek smokes and when he isn't smoking he sucks on lollipops and hard candies, his preferred flavour is cherry but he fucks with cola flavour too. he bites lollipop sticks to shreds through the course of his shifts. he tries to keep it to 2 smoke breaks maximum during his shift. the nights are slow so if he doesn't have that self imposed restriction he could spend the entire night on the curb outside the shop smoking till someone came in.

there are bins of candy and snacks on the counter of the movie store, otabek helps himself to the hard candies and lollipops regularly. he drops in a weekly tenner in the register to cover the cost of what he takes (it doesn't, but he deems it close enough).

weeks pass by in similar fashion, otabek's movie recommendations keep making their way into yuri's purchases, they talk about the movies every time yuri comes back to exchange tapes for new ones. yuri rants about the arthouse movies, deciding he hates the genre. he cites that photography is for telling fragmented stories, movies are for telling complete ones. those pretentious films that tell nothing but drone on and on with useless imagery and jarring soundtracks make him furious with hate. otabek drops in an especially awful film of that genre just to piss yuri off and hear the epic rant that yuri will no doubt have prepared for the next visit.

up until that point, all of their interactions have been in the movie store. one day whilst otabek was driving through the streets on his motorbike, he spots yuri and pulls up to him to say hello. yuri had just finished class and was going to grab a bite to eat and asked otabek if he wanted to come with. they become friends. they hang out frequently.

otabek is a hacker by trade. he learns code and hacking shit and does odd jobs for companies to test their security networks by breaking into them and giving them a rundown on their weaknesses and what they need to lock their shit down better. he lives on energy drinks and cigarettes and thinks working out offsets his unhealthy lifestyle.

a handful of times otabek and yuri go into the backroom to watch a movie together from the pile yuri intends to rent. otabek keeps the door slightly ajar, plus there's a small cctv set up of the store in case a customer walks in whilst they're in there.

otabek discovers two things: one, yuri does not shut the fuck up during a movie, and two, his commentary is hilarious. yuri also discovers two things: one, otabek tastes like candy sweet ashes, and two, the earring was definitely a signal.

EXTRA

some details about the shop itself since they wouldn't leave my head and it's hard to represent it in 1 drawing. the shop in the art looks way more clean and official than it does in my head. in reality it's a more dilapidated back alley shop with shitty lighting, old movie posters and sellotape marks littering the walls. the walls have some stains from previous water damage. it smells of air freshner, dust, and a hint of cigarette smoke.

i'm operating on 0 knowledge of a russia in the mid 90s and just borrowing details from unofficial/pirating dvd stores from my home country, but the place makes copies of movies to sell. original vhs tapes are for rent, whereas copies are sold. the backroom is a work station for downloading movies on shitty dial up and copying vhs tapes. the backroom smells of stale smoke since otabek sometimes smokes in there whilst running the recording machines and downloads, etc. he was hired because he knows how to rip files and find movies and hack his way into movie databases to get new/old/obscure releases.

if they don't carry a movie that a customer wants then they can request it and otabek will click around the internet to find and download it and put it on a tape. in the picture, otabek is holding empty vhs tapes that he plans to record movies on to. the shelves have the legit movie copies, but if you want to buy them, a copy is made and you're given a regular tape with its factory sleeve and the movie title written on the label.

they sell and rent originals of russian movies bc they're not hard to obtain and are in demand, especially ones that star russia's heart throb viktor nikiforov (he is especially popular amongst mothers). christophe and the crispino siblings are actors in this verse.

yuri primarily rents the original movies and comes back to buy copies of ones he really really likes after returning them.

the shop is owned by yakov, georgi works the dayshift, and otabek works the nightshift. yakov mostly leaves them to their own devices bc they do a good job. georgi and otabek think he really should hire one more person so they can have some liberty to switch around their shifts when needed but yakov is a stingy old fuck that does his best to not have money leave his pockets. they are open from 8AM to 12AM. they're one of the more popular movie stores in the area since they carry a lot of western movies that aren't easy to find elsewhere and for so cheap.

10pm to 12am are pretty dead hours which otabek uses for pirating shit. similarly the early hours of the dayshift have light traffic so that's when georgi finishes otabek's work from the night prior.

#otayuriweek #otayuri #otabek altin #yuri plisetsky #yuri on ice #otayuriweek22 #todaydrainedme.tiktok #i spent way too much time on the BG details and hounding my cousin for russian translations of things #most of the vhs titles are gibberish #honestly the written part of this was more important lmao #god im tired #my art #leiandroid #woops i forgot to put details on the pins #too late i dont care anymore

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basslinegrave · 28 days

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i was being a completely sane person today (/s) and was creating a timeline tree for snm would anyone even be interested in that. and collecting my shipping thoughts (or specifics about them being a couple etc). know that i still consider my knowledge of the franchise as poor. its just tidying it up in my head so when i talk about something i can pinpoint a specific thing (i was too deep in fnaf theorizing so now i have to suffer thru a franchise that doesnt even have a canon)

in short/tldr the comics are the base that happened in every possible timeline and everything else is derived from that, happening after, except the cartoon, which shows some events the same way so that would be more intertwined; not everything is connected/within one timeline. and the cartoon is my most fav and where i see them as a true couple.

long rant ahead

on one hand i really like the time travel theory where its like comics -> ttg -> cartoon etc by them travelling back in time for that, however there are many holes especially thinking about their families and stuff so

i like the idea of things branching off. one branch is comics - htr - cartoon, as something more intertwined

second is comics -> ttg -> poker night 2 (since it references ttg events) (idk bout 1 i havent played/seen that)

third would be comics -> ttiv (or comics -> htr -> ttiv, i have no idea atm if bosco's is mentioned in the comics but it is in htr and mentioned in ttiv. ttiv is also set in the year it came out, so theres a huge gap inbetween ttiv and htr but i wouldnt say its where the ttg games happened!)

and i dont mean this in like a multiverse way, since the creator seems to dislike that, its simply just a very loose canon that differs with each installment (simply due to different people working on these imo. nothing too deep imo)

but the juicy part!! i even made brackets that im too lazy to remake digitally so i will just write it out for each bigger installment. im excluding poker night 1 as i havent played it nor watched much gameplay

M = married, BF = best friends (in all technically)

comics: M - unlikely; BF - yes absolutely

htr: M - possible; BF - yes

cartoons: M - i take it as canon here. BF - yes million percent

ttg all seasons: M - no; BF - yes.

poker night 2: M - not sure, implied dating, i take that as good enough; BF - yes

ttiv: M - absolutely not. not a couple at all. BF - they seem too tense, yes, but from my experience playing, their interactions were imo the worst in all of their media, so i wasnt buying it at some points

note - ttiv has to be like the straightest they ever were and i also see it in S.P.'s more recent work. im looking too deep into that, perhaps, but im just thinking were never gonna get anything similar to what we got from back in the 90s again, if theres any future projects

people are also saying they got married like 4 times and its making me a bit confused here. do people mean cartoon, htr dress up card, cake topper and tdph ring scene or am i missing something big?? because to me that is married once, other ones being just for jokes (first one as well but its less vague), and in the ttg games its so extremely vague i cant count that (being realistic here) that said its still fun to joke about them getting married several times, but in this case wouldnt it be more of a marriage per timeline?

and to end this, a personal tierlist

my most fave obviously is the cartoon. not only is it the easiest to work with for me, with the fast pacing and short watch time (but ofc i wish it was longer) i absolutely love how their relationship is depicted there, even if a lot of stuff there is just jokes, but if everything is a joke then its also fine to take everything as canon within this media, to me! like when haters say that people only take the wedding scene out of the intro and ignore the rest - as if the other stuff couldnt happen (isnt one of the shots them fighting a giant octopus, which they end up having an episode about too. like cmon. anything goes here) even if it was contained within this specific part of the franchise, im ok with calling them a couple here. and its S tier overall

another S tier is the comics. nothing else to say

HTR is like A tier to me, only taking off points because its soooo sloooowwww and playing it after watching the series took 3 years off my life immediately. otherwise gud game.

ttg is like A to B tier for me, because of some specifics and preferences but thats just me being nitpicky so, the games overall are good. A- it is. thats all

poker night 2 is fun, i watch the gameplay a lot lately when im too tired at midnight to do anything else, A tier

ttiv. oh how mixed i am about you. gameplay by itself and my first experience with the game - S tier. it made me so giddy more than one time and i kept wanting to come back until i finished the game fully. i dont mind the bugs, its just what i expect in VR games and even tho it made me a bit frustrated at times it wasnt all that bad. its also the only vr game i played for over an hour once and didnt get motion sick - the exception was the level at the store which seemed too bright and actually made me nauseous. which is a feeling that somehow comes back whenever i think about this game. what i dislike was the dialogue, while most of it was fun and fine, i had moments where i just burst out laughing, they (or max especially) were way too mean towards the player. i know its a joke and you could chalk it up to max being unhappy with us/jealous, but it got like, generally unpleasant very quickly. with stuff like good throw - "nice!" bad throw - *neverending insults* and the second was how painfully straight it was and like. the vibes i got from them two was like, oh theyre fed up with each other and my shipping self was just left quite disappointed. i did not get all lines during my gameplay which made it great but upon going thru every line manually after, i was just more and more uncomfortable with what they said in their banter. this drops the game to like C for me? maybe B if i squint. being generous. i also got sick of their talking animations over time... the models are fine just got to be too much. bonus points for max ragdoll physics tho. coming up with a conclusion that this is a completely separate timeline and has nothing to do with anything other than the comics and perhaps HTR. i talked so long about this one cause its the one thing that prompted all of this lol.

but its not that serious! i just knew this franchise for ages as "oh its the two animal guys that are married and its funny" and now that i got into it fully, i see a lot of the shippers are obviously daydreaming and taking things out of context - which is fun, i agree!! i also do that. but it just painted a completely different picture for me. so no. theyre not married, theyre not a couple, except for the cartoon, where its implied, which stays on top for me. but in ttg at least, they love each other, its not as romantic, but i can ship them there (so i ship them in the context of the cartoon and ttg basically)

anyway. nothing is canon for them, everything is canon for them, and everything they say or do is a joke so. its not that deep at all. they gay tho

#insane ramblings #i will tag this #sam and max #for the 2 people that will read this 🫶#thoughts are being thunk #long post #i just went on an unplanned rant here #i was home alone today and spent most of my day thinking about ttiv and how much i hate it and love it and hate it #one could even say its textbook queerbait but since its a separate game i cannot say it #but going from showing them getting married to 20 years later sam dating random women its like. uhh idont like that #obviously #i hc him as bi or pan so its fine its just so lame. like who are they? you know. random off screen characters that mean nothing to me #and max being jealous of the player being there but allowing sam to date is so lol. i havent found the line about the other woman yet #but ive had the lines open for way too many times and i dread going through them further. but i might bite the bullet i just want context #wonder if one of them is that one afghan hound (?) from that one valentines art #when the characters get ooc in official media /j

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