#hey. take a step back

[once-more-with-anxiety]

the most fun part of shipping to me is that you can literally do anything with it. who cares what other people think? we're all mentally ill people who are obsessing over fictional people. why does anybody even give a shit

[starry-bi-sky]

Blood Blossom Au: Baby's First Commissioner Meeting :)

TL:DR This Post: Danny (orphan) gets poisoned with blood blossom extract by Vlad. He runs away from him and ends up under the care of one Pre-Robin Battinson Batman! Starry is loudly pushing her batdad agenda.

(Also known as "Late At Night, When The Nightingale Sings" on my ao3!)

This was a fun rough idea I've been sitting on for weeks, thinking about how Commissioner Gordon and Nightingale's first meeting might go.

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

Commissioner Gordon likes to think that he's adjusting to the new normal of Gotham very well, -- the new normal being grown men running around dressed like bats, in military-grade strength body armor, committing acts of vigilantism, -- and slowly, little by little, he was no longer being surprised when this new normal pops up out of the shadows like the world's most terrifying daisy. His shaving lifespan thanks him for it.

....

The kid is a surprise though.

Granted, he seemed to be a surprise to the Bat too.

There's been a string of murders lately, -- which, in Gotham, is kind of like saying there's been another storm during monsoon season. And there's just been another; in some dilapidated building down in south Gotham, with the broken, boarded-up windows and mildew-crawling walls to match. The victim is a man in his thirties, multiple gunshot wounds to the chest, left in the center of the room for the blood to pool out around him.

The place is already secured when he arrives, the building swarmed with officers and the forensic detectives. The Bat emerges shortly after he does -- or, he might've been here the whole time, hiding someplace dark and shadowy. For his own sanity, Gordon doesn't think about it too hard.

The kid is a surprise, and he appears like a bolt of lightning.

He shows up in the middle of a conversation Gordon is having with the Bat.

A whistle, sharp and loud, slicing through the air, meant for open air rather than a confined space. Gordon's ears pierce and protest the sound, and the solemn, murmured chatter floating through the room abruptly cuts off like the swing of a gavel. As he turns towards the sound -- as they all do -- he swears, up and down, that he sees Batman's shoulders jump, just slightly.

At the source, perched on the window, is a boy. A boy in a gray-blue scarf and an oversized black hoodie, one that hangs off his frame and has ace bandages wrapped around the wrists in some attempt to cinch the sleeves. The hood is up, big like the rest of it, and threatens to swallow the upper half of the boy's face whole in the fabric. What upper half Gordon can see, is smeared with some kind of opaque, black face paint. He's holding onto the side of the frame with one hand, on his hip is a grappling hook. A familiar grappling hook.

Gordon has multiple questions, and his officers tense up.

Martinez puffs up, brows furrowing as his face shapes into a frown. Shoulders rolling back. "You can't be here, kid--"

The reaction is immediate, like a spark to gunpowder, the boy yanks his fingers from his mouth and his mouth twists into a scowl. Head snapping over to Officer Martinez, his hood manages to stay on but Gordon swears that as he bares his teeth, the glint makes them look sharper than they should be. His voice is rasp and quiet and harsh; snappish in its hissing; "Put a fuckin sock in it, Martinez. I'm not stayin."

Martinez reels back, and the boy immediately veers his attention off him. Like a switch, his demeanor drops. Despite half his face being covered, his mouth twists into a cringing, apologetic smile. Slanted and off-beat, embarrassed. It'd be disarming if this wasn't Gotham, and if he didn't just hiss at Martinez like he was about to bite his head off.

"Sorry." He whispers, voice deceptively polite and softer now. Gordon has to strain his ears to hear him. "I was looking for him."

He points his finger towards-- Gordon? No, Gordon follows the direction, and finds himself looking at -- the Bat.

The Bat, who always looks stiff as a pole, now looks even stiffer. Somehow. Well, the explains the grappling hook attached to the boy's waist.

"What are you doing here?" The Bat says, gruff and unable to completely smother the stumble of surprise in his tone.

The boy still holds a sheepish smile, and slips off the window ledge. His feet hit the creaky boards with a near-silent thud, the Batman finds his feet and rapidly begins crossing the room.

Gordon notes the slight tremble in the boy's legs as he straightens. He adjusts his scarf, which droops close to his knees now that he's standing, and slings a backpack -- how long has had that? -- off his shoulders. When the Bat reaches his side, he does as he always does, and looms over the boy like a spectre. A threatening mass of shadows cloaked in all-consuming black. Standing next to him, the boy looks teeny in comparison.

The Bat is a man who terrifies even the most hardened criminals, Gordon has seen grown men shiver in fear at the mention of his name. And yet when the boy looks up at him, he doesn't even flinch.

Instead, his sheepish smile melts away like ice under the sun, holding only traces of his previous embarrassment. It remains as a shadow on his face, a small upturn at the corners of his mouth. The boy pushes his hood back just enough to reveal glinting, ice-flint eyes surrounded in tar-black face paint. He holds the backpack up with one arm. "You forgot this."

[shittybundaskenyer]

winged insect—funeral pyre

[vanilla-bean-buttercream]

"Allies should be okay with hearing hard truths that we have been suffering through for years, because if a child has to experience it, they as an adult can take the time to understand it with their adult brain and their adult emotions, and if they cannot handle that, I shouldn't have to be okay with handling their feelings gently."

and

"Sometimes we go too hard on allies because they're the only person who benefits from the problem who will listen to us, and the anger that we have carried from being wronged for years should not be put solely put on the shoulders of people trying to help us, and they should not have to be okay with being mistreated with the same hatred that people have aimed at us."

Can and should coexist actually.

[o-sunny-day]

ISNT IT BEAUTIFUL SANS!?!?!? EVERYTHING WE DO, EVERYTHING WE ARE!! ITS ALL A MACHINE- THERES A PLACE BEYOND THE SURFACE!! WE CAN REACH IT SANS, WE CAN FREE THE UNDERGROUND… WE CAN FREE THE WORLD!!!!!!!!

*what?

I JUST HAD THIS THOUGHT AND IM TERRIFIED

Sans knows about the whole game and timeline thing, and uh Wingdings clearly did too. Thats what causes him to go a little silly mode. I mean yeah ofc we don’t know what his IMMEDIATE reaction was, but at some point Wingdings decides to look for YOU, decides to give YOU a vessel into Deltarune, decides he need to bring THE ANGELS LIGHT to the rest of the underground, HE BECOMES VERY FASCINATED AND GENERALLY POSITIVE TWORDS THIS

And what we know from SANS is its the complete opposite- ignore, go about his business, try to make a life for himself despite this knowledge, all of that

And I thought UHHH HOW/WHEN DOES SANS FIND THAT OUT?

So anywho angst time that im turning funny for coping purposes

Thinkin about a potential scene of Wingdings’ mid going-crazy arc, and hes like SANS IVE GOT TO SHOW YOU SOMETHING SO AMAZING ITS GONNA BLOW YOUR MIND-

And then he reacts understandably….not very wellll!

And to that, Wingdings also doesnt react very well!

im gonna go crazy- THEY REACT COMPLETELY OPPOSITE TO THIS INFORMATION AND I FEEL LIKE THE REASON IS REALLY COOL

Sans has so many things in his life he cares about past SCIENCE and FREEING THE UNDERGROUND

…WINGDINGS THOUGH- UHHHH

Basically what i’m saying is IT MAKES SENSE. BUT ITS STILL SAD

and I cant wait to see how Sans finds out, and I cant wait to see these brothers get torn apart and put back together again forcefully

[akkpipitphattana]

The Taming of the Shrew (Act III, Scene I) by William Shakespeare | The Heart Killers, Episodes 2 & 9

[onefey]

gwen stacy could literally be wearing three seperate trans pins and a patch that says "trans and proud" in the next movie and ppl would still be like Um Actually She Could Just Be A Cis Ally 🙄🙄 You're Obviously Projecting You Trans People Just Want To Make Everything About Yourself

[mrmeepsmadmind]

' BUT PRAAAAM >:[ !!! '

armada ironhide & amurica ironhide LOL. they would kill each other on sight

my weird bird wife with the platypus tail i had to erase an arm for to show it bcs im in love with it

[tauforged]

learning that i’ve been styling and caring for my hair Completely Wrong at 26 years of age cuz my mom has super thin rail straight hair and i Do Not has been so insane. wtf do you mean the reason it frizzes up so bad is because i comb it right when i get out of the shower instead of just letting it dry naturally. wtf do you mean the shampoo and conditioner i use has no bearing on how frizzy my hair gets, what i should be focusing on is styling cream. what do you mean brushing it out is actively making it worse. whatttttttttt

[capricious-stars]

here's some. Uh. Here's. coughs. sips water. here's some older stuff. Okay. Bye

[see-arcane]

Just tripped and fell into a what-if scenario:

"What if Jonathan really had caught up to Dracula in Piccadilly and killed him in the street?"

Head lopped off. Kukri through the chest. The 'murder victim' turns to dust in full view of the gawking crowd. Then what? Then what??

Piccadilly Police: "So this man beheaded and impaled an aristocrat in the middle of the street."

Witnesses: "He did."

Piccadilly Police: "And the body..?"

Witnesses: "Crumbled into that pile of dust."

Piccadilly Police: "..."

Witnesses: "..."

Piccadilly Police: "...So has he named which magician he's working for or--?"

Witnesses: "No, he's just been busy kicking the dust into the horse dung piles in the gutter."

Of course, this is the best case scenario sillytimes version. Serious version? Jonathan only manages half of the process before some Good Samaritans tackle him; and likely get cut in the process. I bet he could chop Dracula's head off, but not manage the heart-piercing in time. He gets dragged off to jail. The Count's two pieces get taken to the morgue. And now Van Helsing, the Suitors, and Mina are all on a ticking deadline to stake Dracula's heart before sundown with Important Witnesses present to prove Jonathan's innocence and sanity in the slaying...

And if and when that happens?

That means the Drac Attack Pack are responsible for bringing the reality of vampires into the public awareness.

So.

Surprise, everyone!

Imagine the can of worms that would open around them, around the whole concept. Their original plan to head to Castle Dracula to end the Brides gets a LOT of extra tagalong company. Photographers are there. Ditto shady government sorts who, of course, are eager to investigate a way to turn vampirism into a benefit to the Crown. The Drac Attack Pack would be swamped with sensationalism. It'd be a circus.

Which all adds up to a belated understanding for me about just why Dracula had to get away from them in Piccadilly. If he had been caught and killed? God. What a mess it'd be.

[sketchy-tour]

Oh? Oh gee have the demons come back?

Maybe listening to my welcome home playlist was a bad idea-

[crowleycorvid]

I think there is like. An albeit fine line between "this ship is toxic/unhealthy" and "this ship is abusive" and like a lot of fandom spaces just like. Ignore that entirely instead of considering where that line should be drawn

[scribblingface]

truly my dad turns every stupid tiny irrelevant ordinary thing that shouldn't possibly be any kind of big deal or cause any problems into some big stressful fucked up ordeal for absolutely nothing

[koqabear]

hiii!! after thinking things through a long time, i have a small anouncement to make 😖i've decided to take a break for a bit !

it won't be long, like a month or two maybe- or maybe even shorter than that, it'll depend on how im feeling haha

i'll still be writing and working on stuff, it just won't be my main priority, and i wont post it during my break aslgsdk; i've just been feeling really frustrated with my writing and stories recently, and have been feeling as though i need to work on stuff and get them out on time-- but that's just not me ! i won't get anything good to come out if i continue to force myself to write even if i have no motivation, especially since i've been pressuring myself to finish my halloween story on time,,, and it just doesn't feel fair to me or my lovely readers aadslfslh

i'll still be active, but maybe not as much! i'll probably use this time to reply to all the feedback i never responded to, (im so sorry </3) and work on my wips without feeling any pressure to get them out at a certain time.

dont miss me too much.. (im kidding.)

[shih-coulda-had-it]

wip of the novelizing of The Uncanny X-Men issues 147-148, which features: Doctor Doom's first introduction to the new X-Men and Storm's almost-Phoenix moment. wolverine POV; pre-stormverine | rolo, but definitely on its way there

wc: 382

//

Logan’s sanity has been in question for a good decade. Optimistically speaking, it’s a work-in-progress. When he was Weapon X for the Canadian government, Heather and Mac made an effort to keep him on an even keel. More human than weapon. More reason than instinct.

He’d sensed he was hitting some kind of block by the time Xavier came to fetch him. Something that couldn’t be overcome by medicine or therapy prescribed by a bunch of doctors who pretended to understand what the hell was happening to him. 

And don’t get him wrong. Xavier pretends to understand too, but the professor’s got telepathy, and that at least gets him a better view to the struggle. It gets Logan the surety of a safety rope; painless, so he wouldn’t flinch and retaliate, and inexorable, so he couldn’t resist. The fact that the X-Men also gets him a front-row ticket to some of the worst mind-bending trips of Logan’s life is, well. 

Pessimistically speaking, Logan is losing the war to keep his goddamned mind. He’s lashing out on reflex and instinct, seeing enemies in his peripheral. 

It was bad under Scott’s leadership. It is worse now, but he won’t blame it on Ororo. 

The slide’s been building momentum. Too many slips without a save. Xavier can’t be there all the time, so Logan tries to keep rational on his own, tries to keep the bloodlust down now that there’s a genuine kid at the mansion. Kurt seems to get it; he offers out of genuine sincerity to let Logan blow off steam with their games in the woods, and more than once, Logan is sure that Kurt’s had something to do with making sure Logan bumps into Ororo once a day. 

Which, on principle, Logan resents. 

Logan is a grown-ass mutant who doesn’t need minding. Never mind the evidence that Ororo helps, just by offering a word, or a joke, or a shoulder, or a mug of coffee. If Kurt indulges Logan’s predatorial instincts, Ororo—settles them. They aren’t pressed down like they are when Xavier intervenes. They aren’t even redirected to productive, if equally destructive, purposes, which was a favorite tactic of Scott’s. 

It’s not good. He shouldn’t be thinking of Ororo like a touchstone. She’s more than her position as his team leader.