#fuck yeah BATS
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Dpx Dc AU: Ectoplasm is required for Ghosts to be visible to the human eye- And Danny creates his own ectoplasm.
Danny is visiting Jazz in Gotham and its weird how friendly everyone is. Like, the city gets a really bad rapport, everywhere he goes there is someone trying to strike up a conversation or answer his questions about getting around to the tourist spots. A few people even pointed out restaurants and ways to find off the beaten path gems! Jazz seems to role her eyes at him, but when he brings up her 'roommate' being kind of cute she flat out laughs.
Danny then comes to understand the Jazz doesn't have a roommate and that Ghosts in Gotham don't move far from their haunts- He's just been inadvertently turning these undead folks visible by accident of generating abnormal amounts of ectoplasm.
Which, is comforting in a way, he's never walking this dangerous city alone and really, most of the ghosts have been really friendly! They disappear once he's a few blocks away from them anyway.
---
Tim Drake is having a horrible day.
He'd been given intel that one of Black Mask's guys was going to snitch but that he'd died before given the opportunity to reach out to the GCPD. He tracks down the guy's last know whereabouts and yikes. Its next to the Theater. Tim was often grateful for his childhood obsessions, this time it backfired.
Tim and Bruce get into an argument about trust and respect and, worst of all, mental health. And even though Tim was vehemently against Batman accompanying Red Robin to the alleyway - that's exactly what happens.
They arrive and Bruce is closing up faster than a clam in the contaminated Gotham Bay- Clearly being in the Alley bothers him. No fucking shit. RR gets started on collecting evidence, there are a few extra blood splatters and a single left shoe... When a kid walks into the Alley.
"Uh, sorry to intrude-" The kid looks scared shitless, and runs away. And then, all of a sudden, Batman and Robin aren't alone in the Alley.
Tim can hardly believe his eyes as the dead man appears and quickly blabs Black Mask's bank passwords and what the plan had been- and While he's over joyed to have that closure, he turns around to Batman weeping in the arms of his parents.
The ghosts fade, and the emotions are certainly charged as this was never something Bruce or Tim would have ever dreamed of happening. Ghosts in Gotham. Talking, floating, granting closure.
"RR, Bats, come in." Oracle calls into their ears.
"Reporting in, but, uh, we need a minute."
"A minute? We have a case on 4th and-"
"O, we just saw the ghosts of the Waynes. It's going to be a minute."
"...Lots of Ghost reports lately then. Any chance you saw a kid looking like he could be adopted?"
"Yeah, actually, black hair and blue eyes. He was super polite before he ran away."
"We have work to do. Oracle, lets prioritize finding our person of interest and divert Nightwing and Robin to the case on 4th." Batman cut between them on the comms and he sounded... calmer than either of them anticipated.
---
Jazz is no longer laughing when Batman appears at her door explaining that he's looking for Danny (Who already flew away from town to get a good night's sleep before class on Monday). Turns out Danny reunited the man with his dead parents just briefly- and then the second guy appears and mentions how Danny had also given a guy who'd been murdered by a Mob enough time to explain the ongoing threats the city faced.
Jazz just rolls her eyes and says that it's not like the ghosts are going anywhere anytime soon and Danny will visit in another month. When pressed, she just explains that her brother is a weirdo. No of course he doesn't have powers. Gaslight and Girlbosses her way out.
And Jazz thinks that the game is up for at least another month, obviously when Danny visits more shit will stir up, but then this new guy appears.
Unlike the other Bats who are keen on watching her from a distance, the Red Hood knocks on her door. Are her eyebrows all the way into her hairline when Red Hood asks her to send his thanks along to Danny because somehow this whole situation led to his Dad expressing remorse for his actions and apologizing? Yes, yes they are.
But Jazz can smell Dissertation Data off of these vigilantes- Who is she to send them away? Jazz welcomes Red Hood into her place for a cup of tea and a small chat.
The story then devolves into Jazz getting shit done, Danny being cute by proximity and also bringing ghosts to the party, and the Bats having trauma resolve between them.
#dcxdp#dpxdc#dc x dp#dp x dc#danny phantom#dc crossover#dp crossover#long post#danny can make ghosts appear like they do in amity but only for a short while and when in proximity to him#its not apparent in amity because the ghosts are just like that there#Danny just having a good time#Danny having zero brain cells about this whole thing and neither he nor jazz will offer explanations#they're just like 'gotham has ghosts. its not like he put them there'#Bruce getting into therapy because his dead parents said they were proud of him and he didnt know how to handle that#bruce having to turn this energy around somehow and seeing jason - my boy i love you so much and im so sorry and im so proud of you#heres the thing i dont know how i made it anger management ship at the end but i sure as fuck did.#jason is at a lack of words at bruce's confessions of pride and love but is also about to be a BAT about this and track down info#info in the form of a cute girl#oh yeah she has a brother#uh well#he has brothers too- this is fine#someone write this fic pls n thx u
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(DCXDP) The obligations of a rogue versus those of a parent (Pt. 5)
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Tw: torture scene (GiW agent receiving), general angst, canon-typical violence (DC), nobody is having a good time
Will be crossposted to AO3 eventually
(Masterlist/subscription post)
—
It was pretty easy for Danny to forget that Dr. Crane was a rogue at times.
Most of the time he wasn’t comically evil, like what he’d expect of a Gotham rogue. He was helping Danny, even if only because he didn’t want to be taken in by the GiW as well. He was even downright nice most of the time, or at least neutral.
Sure, he had a strange obsession with fear and psychology, but that wasn’t really out of the ordinary for Danny. It didn’t feel like living with a rogue, just like…staying with a distant relative, or something.
He seemed like just an ordinary person.
Today, though, Danny was brought back to reality.
The GiW agent they’d tracked down together writhed on the ground, screaming in pain and terror. Scarecrow was sat a few feet away, setting up a syringe of the antidote he’d made.
After a few more moments, he injected the man with the antidote, watching him like a hawk the entire time.
Suddenly, the man surged forward, lunging at Scarecrow with a feral scream.
Unluckily for him, though, he was still weak from the fear toxin in his system, and from the beatings he’d received prior. Scarecrow easily wrestled him to the ground, settling himself on the broad part of the agent’s back with a vice grip on one of his arms.
“Let’s try again,” he said sharply, all of the warmth Danny had grown used to gone from his voice. “Where is the GiW base of operations?”
The agent took several shuddering breaths before spitting at Scarecrow, defiance and hatred written all over his face.
For just a moment, the room was utterly silent.
“Fine, have it your way.”
Scarecrow began to twist the man’s arm further. It wasn’t long before the agent began to squirm, then writhe, beneath him. Danny’s stomach churned.
“You know,” Scarecrow began, almost conversationally, “there are plenty of jobs that one can get without the use of their legs, especially with the level of education you have. Anything that doesn’t involve hard labor, really.”
The man’s face was beginning to turn red in his struggle not to scream. He took in gasping breaths, the way that his mouth moved almost reminding Danny of a goldfish.
(He felt awful for the comparison, but it was true.)
“However,” Scarecrow continued, “I find you’d be rather hard-pressed to find a job without the use of your arms. Especially in a place like Gotham, where you can always be replaced by someone eager to do your job for even less money. Of course, you could most likely coast off of savings and severance pay for a while, but…”
He leaned closer to the man’s head, his voice lowering.
“Would you be able to live like that? To live with yourself, if you no longer have a purpose?”
He allowed the agent a few seconds of rest before increasing the pressure on his arm. The agent gasped, letting out a strangled hiss. His arm bones were making fascinating noises in response to the strain. Danny felt sick.
“You seem like a rather driven young man. I’m sure your family would hate to see you unmotivated, directionless. Would they resent you, do you think?”
“Fuck you, you—”
The man was cut off by his own scream as Scarecrow finally allowed his arm to break, audibly splintering into thousands of useless shards of bone.
He had the exact pressure memorized. Clearly, he had done this before.
This was wrong. This was wrong.
Shouldn’t Danny step in, do something?
“That won’t heal cleanly. Even with the best medical care in the world, you’ll end up with permanent damage.”
The man below him wheezed and sobbed, choking on air as Scarecrow let go of his arm carelessly, letting it flop back onto the ground.
“Just the sort of thing something like you deserves,” Scarecrow hissed, his voice cold.
“You tortured a child, and you enjoyed it. You laughed with your friends about it. In your notes, one of your friends complained about the screaming,” Scarecrow brought his leg around, grinding his boot into the man’s broken arm. He howled in agony, writhing uncontrollably.
“Was it inconvenient to him, do you think? Too loud? If you were joking about it, clearly you thought so, too. I could fix that as well.”
He drew out another needle, this one once again filled with fear toxin.
“Scarecrow, wait,” Danny choked out.
Scarecrow turned to look at him.
Even his posture was different than usual. He looked… stiff, more like an animal than a man. When he tilted his head at Danny in a silent question, it looked like something in his neck had snapped, his head lolling to the side.
Danny wondered if he was consciously moving like that, or if it was habit at this point.
“You—we don’t have to do this. We can get information some other way, right? You don’t have to…”
Danny looked down at the GiW agent below Scarecrow. He didn’t even have it in him to glare up at Danny like he had before. Instead he laid limply on the ground, tremors rolling through his body uncontrollably.
“We’ve exhausted every other option and you know it,” Scarecrow said, his voice low, “this is the only way we can move forward.”
“Still, I—I don’t,” Danny swallowed, his throat tight, “this isn’t—this isn’t right. Isn’t there some other way to do this? Like—a truth serum, or something?”
“Truth serums are notoriously unreliable. They’re almost as bad as lie detectors. We’re much more likely to get a reliable result from this.”
Danny just stared at the GiW agent and his splintered, ruined arm. He began to weakly wriggle in Scarecrow’s grasp, which was graciously ignored.
He vaguely remembered himself doing the same thing when he was on the operating table; even if he knew there was no chance of escape, he still thrashed and screamed, desperate to get away. The jagged I-shaped incision on his torso felt uncomfortably warm.
What was there left to say?
“The Bat does the same thing at times, you know,” Scarecrow said, “him and the rest of his brood. By using my toxin, I’m actually lessening the amount of permanent damage that I’m doing. Physically.”
“Still, that doesn’t make it right,” Danny said desperately. “Even if—even if everyone in the world did this, it wouldn’t make it right.”
Scarecrow hummed.
They were both silent for a moment.
His next words were gentle, absurdly so when compared to the scene in front of him.
“I would love an alternative. But…”
He shrugged, hand coming to rest on the break in the GiW agent’s arm. Even without applying any pressure, the man stopped squirming immediately.
“There aren’t any other options,” Danny repeated, his voice flat and his body numb.
“Yes,” Scarecrow said. “I’m sorry.”
There was a pause. No one moved a muscle. Eventually Scarecrow spoke again, his voice strangely empty.
“You can stand outside and keep watch, if you’d like. At such a short distance their radars won’t pick us up.”
Danny said nothing, leaving the room silently.
He sat outside for quite a while.
He was grateful that Scarecrow had, with his help, dragged the agent to one of his previous hideouts. It was soundproofed, after all.
He was glad that he didn’t have to hear the rest of what Scarecrow did to the man.
After what felt like an eternity, Dr. Crane left the building, joining him outside. He guided Danny back to his beat up old truck and they drove home in silence.
“Did you at least…do you know where they are, now?” Danny asked as they entered the apartment, his voice small.
“They didn’t share the details of all of their locations with any one person. I know where one of their locations are, but not their main base of operations.”
Danny felt disgusted. With himself, with Dr. Crane, with the GiW.
He was disgusted by the agent, too. Did he just hate the restless dead so much that he would prefer to be tortured than to give them the upper hand? Did he really think he was in the right?
Was there a chance that he was?
Danny felt very, very small, and very stupid. Stupid and weak and cowardly.
“Danny,” Dr. Crane spoke, his voice soft.
“I’m truly sorry that this is happening to you. I really, truly wish that you didn’t have to endure my company. I…”
He fell quiet. Danny wondered if he was just saying this to pacify him, or if he truly meant it. He wondered if it really mattered in the end.
After a few moments of silence, Dr. Crane sighed, looking truly pained.
“I don’t know. I’m sorry.”
Danny was quiet.
“I’m going to bed early,” he finally said, turning away and leaving without a second glance.
—
#dcxdp#dc x dp#dp x dc#dpxdc#dp x dc crossover#dc x dp fic#liminal scarecrow#this kinda shit is how the fic got its name btw.#like yeah obviously it’s also in reference to the contrast between crane and danny’s actual parents#but it’s also about doing what you need to survive vs what is best for the people dependent on you#tshirt that says I love moral quandaries I love when no matter what you do you lose I love torturing characters#Scarecrow: why isn’t torturing everyone who wronged you healing this child. it worked for ME#meanwhile Danny is undergoing the torment nexus#and red hood is doing some doomguy shit#getting swarmed by GiW agents bc he’s one of the only ones showing up on the radar#Tucker voice Wow Mr red hood this is kinda fucked up. can I use the bat computer to hack the pentagon btw
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and you know what the thing is, is i don't even think the biggest problem is going to be that buck's jealous. eddie knows buck. that's the love of his life, but more than that, he just knows him intrinsically. he knows how he is. he knows he gets insecure. he knows he has abandonment issues, like. he knows. he has never once hesitated to give buck assurance and he'll give it again (that scene in buck's loft in 7x05). the problem is going to rise when eddie's relationship with tommy is still a problem after their talk, and neither of them are going to know why. becuase from eddie's pov, it's going to be like, well now you're just being ridiculous. i already told you i love you (in so many words). i already told you we're solid, i already told you nothing's going to change and you're still being weird and i don't like it. and from buck's pov, it's going to be like. i realize we had this conversation, but i still don't like this relationship. i still want things to go back to the way they were. i'm still hungry for your attention and you're not giving it to me.
and so it's like. that's where the wires get crossed. because at some point, buck is going to have to examine his thoughts and feelings again, and he's going to be like, well this man and his relationship with eddie has been the only thing that's consumed my thoughts for weeks; therefore, i must want him desperately. and it's like. yes. solid thinking there, buck. definitely no other options it could possibly be. nuh uh. makes perfect sense. 1000/10 excellent problem solving, great job, buckaroo. dumbass.
#And there's also something to be said about Buck's reaction to hearing that Eddie and Tommy clicked because he's like... 'Yeah I know#exactly what that's like because (when I stopped being dumb) you and I clicked'#and considering Buck's brain I have to wonder if there's something there in the way he thinks Eddie processes his own relationships#as in: the key to having a good solid bestfriendship is clicking with someone right off the bat#so in Buck's mind he is (for lack of a better word) relegated to JUST friendship because he thinks that's how it is in EDDIE'S mind#So of COURSE he's freaking out about Tommy moving in on his best friend because as far as he's concerned#being best friends with Eddie is just about having a natural connection#and not about like. What you actually offer him. Which is so shallow. Buck knows him deeper than that#but he's so blinded by his own irrational paranoia (and queer feelings which are scary when you are a baby gay!)#that he doesn't even realize what the fuck is going on in HIS head since he's so focused on what he THINKS is going on in Eddie's#Bless his sweet soul i need to kiss him so bad like buck you're so fucking dumb let's make out#anyways
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siren
#bakuspecial#cw: nudity#cw: body horror#monster#siren! I think. they're bird to me#I think this has been brewing since that stream mim did of drawing dnd monsters only from official text description#and when the official art for the sirens were shown I was like. oh thats just a woman with wings#lmao like. granted. its an official dnd book available for all audience. you cant make it too Bad To Look At#(I do not agree with this but it wasnt about me. if its about me its gonna be about very few people lmao)#but yeah. after that I got slightly too into the idea of putting more bird into birdwoman#but I also do genuinely love monsters that are Rearranged Human Parts so. I couldnt commit too much to the bird scales Im so sorry#I wanted the fleshiness. the feel. textural experience of holding her hands and being like oh that's a human#even when ur eyes tell u otherwise. mmm#...I looked to my right as I was typing these tags and saw. the fucked up pikmin I tried to sculpt the other day along with the pin#and got startled#its so. its so fucked up. gods. dusty white naked grainy parsnip#I used to have that one doll I butchered wanting to customize in a box next to me and thats way less upsetting than this. man#its perfect actually I will never throw this thing away. anyways#now. now I go to bed. its sleep time for the baku#have a good night lads! you CAN have it both way easily you just need a big bat
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war god sukuna has no need for you. you know this as intimately as you know yourself.
he is a monstrous god, well-suited to the mantle he was given from birth; two pairs of muscular arms as thick as the average man’s torso, two cruel faces, a gaping maw carved into the hardness of his stomach. to peer into sukuna’s eyes is to see death and famine and destruction — wars raged long before you and long after you — and live through it all.
he has no need for you. he is perhaps more powerful than the entire pantheon, even the six-eyed-one and the curse-consumer, who swallows the sky every day to bring night. you have little understanding of the sheer magnitude of his power — your pathetic human brain can only fathom so much — but you know that sukuna, undoubtedly, is the very meaning of the word. and yet, he keeps you.
you are not a concubine, though he shirks those he has in favour of your company. you are not a general, nor an admiral, nor a soldier, and yet he seeks your counsel. you are not a mage, and hardly a grand priestess, and yet sukuna finds your door instead of that of his great temple, where hundreds live and breathe to serve him.
you had only reached the status of alter-maiden before your own temple was crushed to dust; little responsibility was given to you beyond tending the hearth, studying, and occasionally helping with chores. but sukuna dresses you in the finery of high priestesses — gauzy crimson dresses that bare your stomach and chest, fine golden jewellery and garnets that appear almost black in low light — and instructs you to dance in the way your superiors did. dances of worship, dances that he does not need, because he is already all-powerful.
the dances fit you like armour fits the weedy frame of a young boy — your legs don’t quite stretch far enough, your arms can’t move with a fluidity only gained by experience — but sukuna watches you like you are a sorceress, enchanting him with each step. he hushes uruame as they try to speak, insisting on remaining undisturbed during your worship — and when you finish, panting and glistening with sweat, your god only hums in satisfaction, grin all sharp-toothed and feral.
it must be blasphemous, you think, to perform such revered dances so clumsily—
but perhaps even more blasphemous, though, is the lingering touches your god fixes upon your waist; the hunger in his eyes as you dance; the scrape of his pointed nails against your jawline; the tent in his robes at the sound of your laboured breaths after dancing.
you fear the god of war means to have you in more ways than one — and worse still, you can’t find it within you to care.
#sukuna x reader#nsft#sukuna x you#jjk x reader#jjk x you#sukuna smut#jjk smut#listen i have a lot of thoughts abt how u really r just like#a toy for him at first#like a cat batting at a dying bird#ur just like so pathetic and human and hes like yeah ill take that one#and it means absolutely nothing at the start - ur just amusing and entertaining and ur heart beats like a hummingbirds when he looks at u-#-like he wants to split u in two on his cock (he does)#and then hes like oh fuck ur humanity has endeared u to me. oh fuck#etc but add more jealous concubines and godly drama of course :3333
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Do you think Gotham Wars would feel like a better story if Jason did die? I’m sure they’d just bring him back turned evil later.
Oh definitely if there was genuine consequences to Bruce's actions especially the poetic nature of Bruce trying to give Jason a better life only to be the thing that ends up killing him - yeah on top of that I wouldn't mind a soft reboot to Jason's character and reforce Jason anger towards Bruce but I'm not allowed to have nice things so
#ask#plotbunny-bundle#personally as well#id also take out selinas fake out death#bc fucking come onnnnn#who is telling writers in 2023#that fake out deaths#are still a good writing choice#especially 2 in 1 small comic#but yeah#id also like have bruce completely loose it by the end of the book#so its less of a choice that dick and babs are heading the bats again#but thats just me
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hey are we beyond the point of "being a downer" for talking about what we don't like about the show. can we do that now without getting hate
#my friends driven off tumblr dot com for this#:((#we're beyond that right#yeah#oh I've been keeping this in for a whiiiiile#not like. in a mean way but in a#“i want to address drastic character change in lockwood and also what the fuck went on at combe carey” kinda way#yk#i feel like me and others were pressured into not#and the people who did got yelled at#like i get not wanting to right off the bat because we JUST got it and were grateful to have something#but now?? its been nearly a year#and i still have friends afraid to talk about it#lockwood and co#lockwood and co netflix
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Okay but AFTER Dream dramatically storms into Desire's realm yelling "WTF did you do to Hob" I can't imagine Desire just...ignored that. They 100% had to go check out this human and see what is so interesting that Dream is all twisted up in knots over him. Can very much picture Desire swanning into the New Inn in their craziest Lady Gaga outfit already drinking a cosmopolitan and introducing themselves to Hob. Because Desire realises that rather than plotting Dream's downfall they can fuck with Dream INFINITELY more by bothering his immortal crush. It's the sibling instinct.
oh. they DEFINITELY will. and like. eventually dream explains his whole thought process, and the fact that desire has fucked with him in the past (hob: dear god why is your family so fucked up), and dream is basically like: DO NOT. ENGAGE WITH DESIRE. IF THEY TRY TO TALK TO YOU. just call me (he still does not have a phone so unclear how this will work) and i'll kick their ass.
critical point: dream did not in any way tell hob how to IDENTIFY DESIRE.
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The person who struts -- it's really the only word Hob can think of -- over to the bar at the New Inn makes him uneasy, though he can't say why. Hob is not made uncomfortable easily, he's lived too long and been in too many scrapes to feel intimidated in his own pub, of all places.
But something about them makes his hackles rise. The eyes, maybe. They're too cunning.
But he's not in the habit of throwing people out on looks so he just offers a tight smile and says, "Get you something?"
He's tending bar himself, today. Gives him something to do between terms. And he finds himself strangely grateful to have the bar between him and his strange customer as they slide onto one of the bar stools.
"Cosmo, please," they say, voice like sugar halfway to caramelizing, a bit of pop and smoke in the smooth glide.
This is a bit of an odd drink selection for eleven in the morning, but Hob has, at various points in his life though thankfully no longer, done lines of cocaine before even having breakfast, so he really has no pedestal from which to judge.
"Coming right up."
The bar at the New Inn is well-stocked nowadays. Used to be, they served mainly beer and wine, nothing fancy. Then Hob made the horrible mistake of promising his students an end of term cocktail-making class if they came to all the exam review sessions -- because he does actually know how to make drinks, he's been alive for six centuries, thanks very much -- and now it's become a thing and he's stuck doing it forever.
Then Dream took to his drinks, and alcohol is no substitute for food but getting Dream to eat or drink anything is a bloody miracle, so if that anything is the bougiest mixture of alcohols Hob can come up with, well--
Actually. Actually that might be worse than nothing at all.
Makes Dream happy though, so what is Hob to do? Keep ordering luxardo cherries and elderflower liqueur until he outlives them, that's what.
He finishes shaking the drink under the heavy gaze of his guest and pours, sliding it across the table to them.
Hob feels like he's being sized up by a predator as they take a long, delicate sip. The color of the drink matches the pink of their blazer. Hob is struggling to recall if said blazer was actually pink when they arrived.
"Ah. You mix a good drink, Hob Gadling," they say, propping their head on their hand, looking a him from under their lashes, and, ah, so that's what this is.
Hob leans on the bar. "What sort of... entity are you, then?"
Their whole face brightens in what Hob thinks is delight. "Oh! So you are a perceptive one. Get a lot of entities in here, do you, Robert?"
"'Bout as many as can be expected. That's not an answer."
They pout. "Neither is yours. And can't a being just pop by the local speakeasy for a drink without being interrogated?"
"Seems a little unfair that you know my name, and I don't know yours," Hob points out. "Names have power, and so on, isn't that the thing?"
His guest studies him. "You are both far more normal and far less normal than I'd been expecting. Fascinating."
Um.
Before Hob is forced to respond to that, the door swings open to reveal Dream, shrouded in darkness and nighttime and vibrating with electrical fury. Shadows crawl up the windows. All the lights in the inn flicker out.
Oh boy.
"I," Dream says, each word a thunderclap, shining gaze fixed on Hob's guest at the bar, "Explicitly. Forbade. You. From. Interfering."
"What are you going to do, hit me?" taunts the other entity, leaning back on their stool, drink balanced in one hand.
Hob looks back and forth between them, wondering if he should fetch a weapon. He keeps a cricket bat here somewhere, surely...
"Dream, love," he says, once he's decided it's better to try to deescalate the situation rather than introducing further weaponry, "your usual?"
Dream nods, stalking over to the bar. His gaze flits briefly to Hob, softening, before snapping right back to the other being.
"I see you remain incapable of heeding a warning," he says, all ice.
"It's not really part of my nature," they say. "I see it, I like it... well, you get it."
Oh. Oh no.
Cautiously, Hob slides his drink over to Dream. Without breaking eye contact with... Desire? it must be, and thanks, Dream, for the complete lack of description, Dream picks up his drink and downs the whole thing in one long swallow.
Ooooooh boy.
"Desire," Hob says, and they perk up at his realization of their name, looking over at him, "might be better if you were going now."
Desire lets out a frustrated huff. "Ugh, of course. I certainly don't want to upset 'ole Nightmare here."
"You certainly don't want my fist in your jaw," Hob says, more audible threat in it than he intends -- but he remembers Dream's halting confession, about how often love had turned out to be manipulation, and he thinks he should be congratulated on his restraint, actually.
Desire just laughs, and-- ah, Hob is starting to see that there's no winning with this one. Even and especially when you haven't agreed to the game.
"I suppose I'll be going then, before the fists start flying." They slide out of their seat and glide towards the door, waving. "Nice meeting you, Robert! I'm sure we'll be seeing each other again, soon."
I don't doubt it, Hob thinks.
They take their drink with them. Hob's not feeling particularly inclined to chase down that glass.
Dream still hasn't moved. He stares after Desire, empty glass about to crack in his grip.
"Dream?"
"I said that you should call for me," Dream says, the ghost of words.
With what means, exactly? Hob thinks. Damned enigmatic shadow of a man. "You didn't tell me who to look out for."
"Oh." Dream finally snaps out of his daze. "Yes. I apologize."
"Come sit down."
Hob fetches a glass of water and drags Dream over to their usual booth, pushing the water into his hands. "Drink that."
Dream stares down at it. "Why?"
"Because you just chugged a drink you usually sip for hours. Drink."
"I will not get drunk unless I choose to," Dream says.
"Have you tested that?" Hob asks.
Dream's brows furrow. "...No."
"Then let's not do that now. Drink. Come on."
Dream sips at the water. "I am sorry," he says, slowly, "about Desire."
"And I'm sorry I didn't actually punch them," Hob says, making Dream look up at him in surprise. "Well. Sort of. Wouldn't want to make it worse."
A smile tugs at Dream's lips. "You would... defend my honor?"
"Always," Hob vows. "I'd defend you. Don't care if the devil himself has it out for you."
"That may well happen," Dream says.
Hob stares at Dream. Dream stares back.
"Oh," Hob says, or maybe just hopes, "you're making a joke."
"No," says Dream. "Lucifer and I are on poor terms at the moment. She may seek revenge."
Hob keeps staring at him. Dream meets his gaze evenly.
Hob scrubs his hands through his hair. "Lucifer and you..."
Why was it always like this?
When he looks up again, Dream is smirking at him. "You're a menace," Hob tells him. "One day, you're going to give me the full rundown of everyone who has beef with you so I can be prepared."
"That will be a long list," Dream says.
"Of course it is," Hob sighs.
Dream takes his hand as if he can comfort Hob through all of the insane interactions he's sure to have with strange beings in the near future. The worst thing is, it works. Hob squeezes his hand and immediately remembers why he's willing to do anything for him.
"I'd go to Hell for you," he says. "I'd prefer not to, though, if it's all the same."
"That is my preference as well," says Dream.
There's a lot Hob would do for Dream. It's probably unhealthy. But what's the point of living six hundred years if you're going to spend it all being healthy, anyway.
"Why do so many people have problems with you, anyway?" Hob asks.
Hob knows. Hob fucking knows why.
Dream pouts. "Matthew tells me my social skills are 'less than adequate.'"
That's one way to phrase 'you act like an arrogant dick 85% of the time.' Matthew should receive a medal for his tact.
Hob loves that arrogant dick, though, God fucking damn him.
"All the more reason to get me that list, then," Hob says. "Maybe we can prevent you from creating an interdimensional incident."
"Will you accomplish this by threatening to punch them in the face?" Dream asks, completely neutral.
"Okay, you know what? Fair," Hob admits, and Dream chuckles. "Perhaps neither of us is cut out for diplomacy. The point, though, is: of course I'd defend you. I love you."
Dream kisses the back of his hand. As if he's only just now realized what he's done to Hob's pub, the lights all flicker back on.
"Thank Christ, I thought I was going to have to replace all those bulbs."
"Do you think I would do that to you?" Dream says with a tiny smile, Hob's hand still pressed to his lips.
You've done worse than that to me, Hob thinks. Better, too. So much better.
"No, love," he says, "I know you wouldn't."
#hob just feeding dream fancy cocktails with one hand while he fights off lucifer with a bat with the other#'it's rotten work' 'YEAH IT SURE FUCKING IS'#this got so meandering this has no structure at all#in my head dream is the type of person who will only drink like. elevated stuff. like he is not just casually drinking pints at the pub#u feel me. and he never gets drunk. u will only catch him with an elaborate expensive cocktail or a fine red wine#or a glass of truly ancient scotch#dream's drink of choice at the new inn is a vieux carre not that it matters in the slightest#dreamling#dreamling fic#dream of the endless#hob gadling#desire of the endless#the sandman#my writing#ask#merytsetesh
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You aren't gonna sing the second verse?
This seems more fun.
Chainsaw Man | チェンソーマン | by Tatsuki Fujimoto ☆
#this is the one folks – the one we cite where fujitmoto lost his mind#because this is it that essence that thing he's at his worst which is actually his best#and that is why i think he is part magician#because what the fuck just happened#and more to the point#why was it good?#help what even is that chapter name#also#the boy flattened the entire building with just a bat – hell yeah#my edit#denji#fucking. karaoke devil idk#manga#manga cap#manga edit#csm#csm edit#chainsaw man#chainsaw man manga#チェンソーマン#animanga#shounen#tatsuki fujimoto#csm chapter 137#csm part 2#anisa reads csm
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sure cowboy ghost is a hot concept but sheriff ghost? masked sheriff ghost who protects his outpost fiercely? masked sheriff ghost adorned with brown leather chaps, and a matching leather jacket, completed with a golden badge that clearly states that neither him or his town are to be fucked with?
pussy wetter than a slip n slide, i stg
#☁︎⋅debauchery#like yeah acab duh#but also#i would absolutely attempt petty crime in front of him just to get his hands on me#batting my eyelashes at him like ''sorry sir i won't do it again''#FUCK#simon ghost riley#ghost mw2#simon riley x reader#simon riley#simon riley x you#ghost x you
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for when dc releases a new comic that mischaracterizes him again AND the humiliating ordeal of telling ppl that arent your mutuals that bruce fucking wayne aka mr cashcow is your favorite character
#no one understands him like how me and my mutuals do....#the bats need to stop being in other characters comic books because then the fans of that character hates it and so do i#they never characterize him right in them and because im aware of how invasive and annoying the batbitches are....#like.. sorry about my stupid idiot blorbo ruining this characters comic. they ruined him in too if it helps. yea it fucking sucks... sorry.#anyways this was first made because i was talking to someone and said bruce was my fav and got sent ‘oh. okay.’ and the convo ended like.#yeah. i get it. hes still my favorite and for a reason but no i fully get it and understand sorry.#but also while i was getting it™ i thought about why and because god dc sucks and like.#this is just an average tuesday when a shitty comic drops and you have to suffer for being a fan of his ://#posts from the crypt
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I’m sure I’m not the first person to say this, but I am so grateful that the Yellowjackets creative team has proven themselves flexible storytellers—in a lot of ways, but particularly regarding Van. ‘Cuz how many times do we get a lesbian in a show (especially a funny, lovable one) and resign ourselves to having to say goodbye in some catastrophic way? And this is absolutely the kind of show where, until you see the adult counterparts, any one of those kids could bite it. And that Van was SUPPOSED to die—or at least, wasn’t necessarily supposed to live—but Liv Hewson did such a fantastic job and the character became so enriched and so charming that she not only gets to live past season one, but gets to live into adulthood.
And that she gets to be so herself in adulthood; Van feels the least changed, in some ways, of any of the grown versions. She’s, as Ambrose and Hewson point out, dimmed down and calcified, but she’s still dressing the same, she’s still proudly gay, she’s out here acting as a sort of snarky cinema mentor to the kids who come into her shop. No, she isn’t happy, because none of them are, but she is alive, and she’s out and proud, and she’s a fundamental figure in this narrative when she could so easily have been written out in a blaze of fire or a wolf attack. I’m so grateful, because it means no matter where adult Van’s journey takes her, we’re getting to hang on to Hewson for as long as the show runs, as one of the core six members of the ‘96 cast, and that is fucking huge. We’re getting the message that at least two of those six characters are gay and get to grow up, and that gayness has nothing whatsoever to do with their trauma and problems in 2021. Like. Goddamn. That’s enormous.
#yellowjackets#yellowjackets spoilers#van palmer#liv hewson#am I worried about what will happen to Van the adult? fuck yeah#am I worried about what will happen to Van’s mental state in ‘96? of course#but we get to find out. we get to see her story continue to evolve#one of my favorite things about the structure of this show is that it manages to keep really high stakes#but also has sort of an underlying safety net of comfort for these characters we love so much#because they might die in the present timeline but at least for these core six we know we always go back to them in the past#it gives the meta energy of telling the story of a loved one after they’re gone#to keep them alive#and that we safely have that comfort with Taissa off the bat and now with Van as well? makes me so fucking happy#I cannot wait until we get more of this show. I can’t think about anything else
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I am here, once again, with my Ao No Flag propaganda
These two specific panels of Toma were the thing that made me think over a year ago “Man. I want to be like that too” as in KAITO drawing expression because—
The subtle shift of emotion, it’s present all throughout the manga, but this is what sold it for me. For no particular reason, it’s not even the best example, it was just what sealed the deal to me
#it’s the way his eyes open slightly in surprise when Seiya tells him that his friends refused to give an explanation when asked about#what happened in what I think is a way of them showing they care about Toma#and that surprises Toma since I believe he might have been doubtful his friends would forgive him after that#which man. idk maybe it’s because it hit home in some other things. it’s so good#Kaito handles the way the characters express themselves so good I’m always in awe anytime I reread any volume#it’s just. they feel so real in their flaws and mistakes and how they take it. for example our dear protagonist#man he is a wreck. but it’s understandable since he is going through a stage in life where he is still understanding himself!#and KAITO depicts it so nicely and lets him be awful. and let’s everyone be it too. they fuck up yes! but it’s not the end of the world#and he shows that too. how it’s okay to make mistakes but you have to owe them and grow from them not get stuck in them#it’s the little me inside of myself that was making me weep I believe#Ao no flag#blue flag#toma mita#yeah this is about volume 7 too#well i dont know it’s the way Seiya is older sibling anguish that hit me with a bat personally because 🤝. same.#and just. AAAAGGHHHH I’m going insane
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2012 and Rise TMNT Crossover Masterpost
I feel like 2012 Raph would like and genuinely respect Rise April.
All it would take is one glare from her with her bat and her saying, “Disrespect me or my brothers, and I’ll bust your kneecaps” and 2012 Raph would be grinning, “I like their April, she’s violent!”
And then ensue their violent shenanigans of them running into battle kicking ass with no self-preservation whatsoever.
#April with her bat and running into battle:#APRILL O’NEILLLLL!#all the turtles:#She’s insane she just ran in!#2012 Raph:#YEAH KICK THEIR FUCKING ASSES! WOOOOOO!#I feel like after the whole general disrespect and not exactly liking each other the two groups would have going on in the first bit#they would get along pretty well#the rough n’ tumble duo#the ‘takes names kick ads’ twins#still working on the name#2012 raph#2012 tmnt#rise april#rottmnt april#and their banter and back and forth roasting would be LEGENDARY#they could argue and burn each other for hours#i think they would have a great friendship#I need some 2012 Raph and rise April solidarity#rottmnt#rise tmnt#tmnt crossover#crossover#the ‘take names kick ass’ twins
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rouge, for the soul
#my art#traditional art#yeah idk#sonic the hedgehog#rouge the bat#highlighters#pencil#i changed the outfits a tad cus im silly#fucking sick lil buddy#fuck it we ball#sonic art#sonic fanart#sonic the hedghog fanart#hell yeah#women
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If your thought process is like this then maybe you don't have a problem with the doctor being sexy, you have an underlying problem with openly queer man taking up center stage.
#i feel like casual queerphobia is running rampant in r/gallifrey recently and no one's batting an eye and it's low key driving me mad#fuck yeah a confidently open queer character leading a big show oh wait discourse#doctor who#doctorwho#the 15th doctor#ncuti gatwa#doctor who christmas special#doctor who 60th anniversary#doctor who 60th specials#the giggle#church on ruby road#queer#lgbtq#15th doctor#15#fifteenth doctor
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