"I've only known Shriek for half an hour and if anything happened to her I'd kill everyone on this ship and then myself."

Some fanart for @wyvernslovecake of her baby Shriek!

Plus it's been a minute since I've drawn Calypso, lol.

Bruce Spaulding Fuller - Gore Shriek

pov: your baby brother is a Weird Little Guy™️

extremely normal conversations I'm having with @brown-little-robin these days, lads

One Mortis HC I've always held close to my heart is that Mortis has a cave near the mortuary where he keeps a giant colony of bats.

He takes care of them all and makes sure they're happy, well fed, and healthy. These are the same bats that are taken out in smaller groups to fight with him in brawls (the ones he uses for his super).

In this AU, he does have that same cave as well as even more bats than normal. He let's them go on flights during the night, but if he's not busy, he'll go out flying with them. It's quite a spectacular sight, seeing the vampire wyvern along with his leigon of bats... Most of the new brawlers to the games get spooked if they see that.

i just got my favorite screencap of me being funny as shit ever

i need someone to sing this duet with me so bad pleaseeeeeee

Was watching Scooby Doo and the Ghoul School last night since the connection went out and now I want to make an AU

I think it's also really important to complain about note that the only reason Bane has been trying to live righteously is because he promised Batman he would.

ONE CLASS DONE

biggest issue with modern day social shit on internet is that the categories of people that you automatically ignore because you’re x seem to be growing at a ridiculous rate

I feel that perhaps giving the idea that it’s okay to wholly and entirely lock out someone or assume the worst of someone because of a single quality of them is probably the worst shit in the world and the fact that there’s like a hundred of stances that include that now Literally Haunts Me

I've had a different headache each day this week wtf

I feel like Bruce Wayne projects the kind of amiable playboy 'fun' vibe that he'd be the type of celebrity that certain interviewers feel comfortable surprising with puppies.

You know the kind of shows I mean.

The late-night talk show situations where they're making benign small talk with their smiling guest, and there's a segment where animals get brought out, usually to talk about some sort of ecological relief effort.

So you're watching your trash TV talk show late at night, and you get to watch billionaire pretty boy Bruce Wayne be begrudgingly talked into holding a (relatively) harmless creature which inevitably gets a lot of delighted shrieks from the audience as it starts being a lot more active than the handler promised. And to his credit, Bruce doesn't flinch, he doesn't freak out. But his eyes are a little wide, and his voice a little tight as the smile on his face takes on a slight rictus quality before he's inevitably rescued by an apologetic handler who is also laughing because they all know there was no real danger, it was just funny to put Bruce, who is an undeniable good sport and already laughing along, out of his comfort zone for the sake of charity.

Meanwhile, up in the Justice League headquarters, several founding members of the League are wondering how fast they can get a fake Oscar award shipped to the space station because fuck off. Absolutely fuck off, Bruce. Where the fuck did he study? Juilliard? (Probably.)

(Clark ends up going to a novelty store during the commercial break. It's faster than trying to get anything shipped, even with the infrastructure Bats built for them. He finds it several days later taped to his console in a conspicuously empty briefing room. It's gaudy and awful, the words "Best Actor" engraved on the plaque. No one's around to see him smile. No one comments when it vanishes. Everyone thinks it's been yeeted out an airlock. Dick absolutely comments when it shows up in the manor, stashed in one of the trophy cases that sprung up for all the bat kids' school awards. Bruce has no idea how it got there. Must have been Alfred. (It was not.))

Anyway, consider, for your amusement, Bruce Wayne getting highjacked on The Gotham Toight Show with a handful of wriggling puppies and, for a split second, not having to pretend he's delighted to be there.

Once Batman has revealed his identity to the JL, after some strong encouragement from Superman and Wonder Woman, Bruce decides to try to start being a bit more "personable" with the rest of league. They've been colleagues for a decade and he trusts them all, and according to Clark and Diana this means there's no need for his whole mysterious "shadow of the night" bit, so he invites the league to dinner at the manor.

It is raining heavily, and even though it's not that late, it's nearly pitch dark but for the frequent lightning strikes. The league arrives together at Wayne Manor and the wrought iron gates stretch upward before them, ending in spikes at the top with ivy overgrown across them. They stand there, uncomfortable, wet, a bit weirded out, wondering how they're supposed to get passed the gates.

"This is creepy, right?" Hal says. "It's not just me?"

A voice. "Hello." As the league turns to the sound, thunder claps loud enough to startle everyone as lightning strikes, illuminating a small child standing on the other side of the gates that was definitely not there a second ago. He stands motionless under an umbrella, seemingly unbothered by the rain, expression vaguely irritated, and his eyes seem to flash green in the light. "I have been instructed to escort you inside."

The child doesn't move in any way but the gates slowly swing open, the creaking sounds sound straight out of a horror movie. Once they are fully opened, the boy turns and starts walking down the path without a word.

The league, some members quite freaked out at this point, follow him after exchanging some looks. They round a bend in the path and the manor comes into view. It is a massive dark structure, rising from the ground. Another lightning strike illuminates pointed spires, jagged edges, and it's gloomy, gothic nature. The sound of bats shrieking can be heard in the distance over the rain.

The league finally arrives at the front door, cold, wet, and thoroughly discomfited. An old man, a butler, looking out of time, opens the door, the child disappears inside. The butler welcomes everyone inside graciously but with a distant politeness. Despite the appearance of the exterior, the inside is well lit with warm light and seems inviting, though ostentatious. The league is relieved.

Until another massive lightning strike and thunder clap cuts the power off and the room is pitch black.

"Oh, you're here," a deep voice says from somewhere up above. No sooner are the words out than another lightning strike illuminates a dark, hulking figure on the staircase that was also definitely not there a second ago. At least two people scream.

Bruce is wildly confused as to why his guests are screaming, he didn't think any of them were afraid of the dark? The back up generator kicks on and the lights come back on and everybody seems to calm down. The rest of the dinner seems to go well (as well as a dinner can with the justice league and all of Bruce's kids) but strangely, to Bruce's confusion, it somehow only made his "spooky" reputation worse. He's not really sure why the whole league seems to think he lives in a haunted house.