#Its Gonna Keep Going

[starry-bi-sky]

I am loudly pushing the batdad agenda i am loudly pushing the— DPxDC Prompt

“Woah. You look like shit."

Granted, that’s probably not the first thing Danny should be saying to the guy that just bit the curb, but in his defense; he’s not running on 100% right now either.

The man -- tall, towering, and broader than Danny is tall -- whips around on his heel, black frayed cape flaring out impressively. Danny would've whistled in appreciation, but he takes the time instead to wipe the back of his hand across his mouth, smearing the blood running from his nose across his cheek.

"Sorry." He blinks widely, not even flinching as the man with the horns zeroes in on him. "That was rude of me. I have a really bad brain-to-mouth filter; Sam says its what always gets me into trouble."

And she's not wrong either, per say. His smart mouth is what landed him in this situation -- with blood blossom extract running through his veins and cannibalizing the ectoplasm in his bloodstream. Thanks Vlad.

The man grunts at him; a short, curt "hm" that shouldn't make Danny smile, but he does because he's somewhat delirious and probably concussed. The man keeps some kind of distance, sinking towards the shadows of Gotham's alleyway like he dares to melt right into it.

If it's supposed to scare Danny, it doesn't work. Danny's never been afraid of the dark; he's always been able to hide himself in it. He blinks slowly at the mass of shadows.

"You look hurt." The shadows says, blurring together around the edges. Danny squints, and licks his lips to get the blood dripping down his chin off. Ugh, he hates the taste of blood.

"I am." He says, "My godfather poisoned me. M'dying." The agony of the blood blossom eating him from the inside out looped back around to numbing a while ago, so all he feels is half-awake and dazed.

"Hey," Danny stumbles forward towards the man, a bloodied hand reaching out to him. "You-- you're a hero, right? You're not attacking me; which is more than I can say for most costumed people I've met." Maybe it's a poor bar to judge someone at, but he's already established that Danny's not in his right mind.

The man makes no change in expression, but Danny realizes blearily that it's hard to tell with the shadows on his face. He stays still long enough for Danny to latch onto the cape -- stretchy, but almost soft under his fingers.

He looks up blearily into the whites of the man's eyes. "Can you help me? I don't-- I don't wanna die." Again. He doesn't wanna die again. He blinks slow and lizard-like. "I mean- I'll probably get to see mom and dad again, but I told them I'd at least try and make it to adulthood."

There's a clatter down the street, and Danny's ghost sense chills up his spine and leaves a bitter, ashy taste in his mouth. He immediately knows who it belongs to even before the deceptively gentle; "Daniel?" echoes down the way.

"Daniel? Quit your games, badger, Gotham is dangerous for children."

Danny's mouth pulls back, and blood spills against his tongue. "Please." He rasps, and grabs onto the shadow's cape with both hands. "Please. He's going to kill me. Please--"

"Daniel? Is that you?"

His lips part, dragging in air to plead with the darkness again. He doesn't need to, the whites of his eyes narrow, and the cape whirls around him before Danny can blink. Soon swaddled in shadows, the Night lifts him up, and steals him away.

[bigfatbreak]

Birds of a Feather previous / next

[stoopidstapler]

SO IVE BEEN GOIN INSANE SINCE THIS TRAILER DROPPED. JUST. SIMON. SIMON. SIMON.

[pokeberry5]

tim "faking" a bicycle accident to get his neighbor to come help him, based on @upswings's post, which gripped me by the throat the moment i read it

extras:

[icarusredwings]

Thinking about Logan forgetting that he IS infact gay sometimes. This man was born in the 1800s and has been in toxic masculine places for a very long time. Is the army pretty gay? Yes. But you aren't allowed to admit it or say it.

Logan: Why the fuck am I on the pride months staff member list? *shakes around paper*

Jubilee: *Blinks* ..... ??

Logan: *Crosses arms* Does it look like I'm gay!?

Jubilee: *slowly reaches for phone* Mr. Howlett Please come to the events organizer office

Logan: ?? Im right here.

Wade: *shows up* You called, Firefly? Oh hi pumpkin!

Jubilee: *Gestures to Wade* Is this not your husband?

Logan: And?

Wade: Ohhh is this about the thing in the closet? Look I swear I locked it!!

Jubilee: Im going to have Jean erase my memory of you ever saying that. Logan.... Is that your husband?

Logan: Yes??

Jubilee: Then you're gay.

Logan: No, im not!

Wade: YEAH!! He's bisexual.

Jubilee: Logan... Do you like men?

Logan: No! What do I look like a southern pansy?

Wade: YEA- wait.... what??

Wade and Jubilee: Should... should we tell him?

[bacchuschucklefuck]

doing chibi is a good design exercise bc it forces u to think on shapes n essential details, essentially thumbnailing ur designs. its also a terrible design exercise bc it ends up looking cute no matter what

[quigzahhutt]

his little head shake ...

"I didn't wanna sound stupid, so" and then his little feet taps 🥺🥺

[tboymordred]

“Seeing it now, this crown of swords...Guinevere is the only one who knew where it was.”

for @queer-ragnelle's May Day Parade (May Queen Guinevere)

[puppyeared]

(guy who has never played cotl) haha au time

[starry-bi-sky]

Unpleasant Revelations - DPxDC Ficlet Idea for the Stillborn Au

"Have you met my youngest, Damian, Mr. Masters?"

Its only from twenty years of long, hard experience and practice that Vlad doesn't increase the room temperature from 'borderline uncomfortably cool' to 'unbearably hot' the moment Bruce Wayne pulls his youngest and "only" biological son out in front of him.

He puts only in quotations because twelve year old Damian Wayne looks scarily, uncannily like one Daniel Brown. Jack and Maddie's foster son, second victim of their foolishness, and only other halfa in existence. Second only to him.

It's nauseating how similar they look. From the scowl and terrible glare on the young boy's face, to his brown skin -- which was only a few shades lighter than Daniel's, the shape of his nose, and even the strange winged edge of his eyebrow. Something that Vlad has long since come to find endearing on the child he considered a son of his own. The only difference was that Damian had dark, sharp green eyes.

Daniel's eyes were blue. The same glacier shade as his father's, who stood behind Damian with a proud, oafish smile on his visage.

It was infuriating how similar they look. Vlad might not have rapidly swung the room temperature from one extreme to the other, but he can't stop himself from letting the fury burning within his core from slipping out and raising the temperature up a few degrees.

Because it really only meant one thing.

Damian Wayne and Daniel Brown were related.

Damian Wayne and Daniel Brown were brothers.

Standing in front of him, it was clear as day. He can already picture a phantom image of Daniel standing beside Damian, the same scowl written on his face, the same glare carved into his eyes. The only difference being the dark, exhausted circles beneath them that seemed to be permanently painted onto his skin. The only thing missing being the permanent loneliness and vigilance permeating his being like a scar.

This, if revealed, would be enough to ruin Bruce Wayne's reputation. Or, at the very least, darken it quite a bit. The great philanthropist Bruce Wayne with another secret blood child? One related to his youngest? One that had been put into foster care? Seemingly thrown away?

It would be a firestorm.

One that Vlad is not keen on starting.

It would ruin Bruce Wayne's reputation, yes. But it would hurt Daniel in the process -- the harassment he would face alone might just be enough to break that fragile child completely. That was just not something he could allow. Or, even worse, bring him into his biological father's care and custody -- something Vlad was even less willing to allow.

It's not out of kindness to Wayne that Vlad will keep mum about this.

His grip on his champagne flute tightens, just a bit. He's still aware enough of the world around him to not let it shatter in his hands. His plastered, pleasant smile tightens around the corners, and he forces his focus to slide from Damian to Wayne.

"The resemblance is uncanny, Mister Wayne." He says, slanting his smile to the side slyly. Although he's not talking about the resemblance between Wayne and his son. Rage simmers beneath his skin, burning coal and embers in the core of his chest, nestled between his lungs, as he meets the man's eyes.

Wayne swaggles his head proudly, his ditzy smile widening as he squeezes his son's shoulder affectionately. Bastard, Vlad wants to spit.

He breathes in through his nose, and exhales out through his mouth. The champagne in his hand cools, and stops its unusual bubbling.

The Damian boy scoffs under his breath, his mouth still coiled upward into a scowl. With the revelation of his blood relation to Daniel evident, Vlad's not sure if he should find it endearing or not.

He is not Daniel, so he decides that it's just simply irritating. He decides to ignore it.

"And you said he was your only biological son?" He asks, voice lilting and head tilting. He knows its a suspicious question at worst, insulting at best. But considering Wayne's past proclivities, he can hardly call it an unexpected question.

Damian puffs in great offense, face twisting angrily. It reminds him of Daniel when Vlad insisted that he was wrong about something or other, and for a moment his heart swells, fond.

But this is not his child, and so the feeling quickly crashes and burns, simmering back into rage. This was not Daniel -- this was his replacement. A replacement that Wayne was free to keep.

Wayne chuckles, idiotically, as if he'd said some funny joke. Vlad's other hand, the one gripping his cane -- something he's required ever since he was dispatched from the hospital all those lonely years ago -- tightens instead. He grinds his teeth -- him and Jack Fenton would get along like a house on fire, he hates it.

"I can understand why you'd ask that, Mister Masters," Wayne says, squeezing Damian's shoulder again, "but yes, Damian is my only biological son. Although that doesn't mean I don't love my other children any less."

Bastard.

For all his posturing and flouncing about caring for his city and his children, Vlad never would have thought the Prince of Gotham capable of abandoning one of them.

But, well.

They all have their dark secrets.

And what one man throws away, another man picks up. If Bruce Wayne didn't want the treasure child that was Daniel Brown, then Vlad Masters was more than happy to take him instead.

"I see."

[skunkes]

[choccy-milky]

the place me and my roommate were supposed to move into today was so disgusting and uninhabitable we just took our stuff and left and now we're gonna be staying at airbnbs and hotels until further notice/until we can find a new place hopefully quickly...........im in my homeless drifter era y'all!!!😍😍so if im not as active then thats why LMFAO

1 like = 1 prayer

[95-6qrsk2rx9uq42069nnnnnjthewolf]

i think tim is high maintenance the way a boarder collie or austrialian shepherd is. like you have to make sure they're not only given space to expend energy but you have to specifically let them get the herding instinct out and challenge them intellectually or they start destroying ur home

[musubiki]

its been a while since my last summer mochi 🌺🏖️

[what-the-floofin]

Back into Taur thoughts

There are four types to the cervitaurs - though with a far-traveling nomadic culture, these forms came to spread and blend extensively throughout the populace.

Finding traits from all ends in a single herd is very typical!

The four strains have unique features that were once their own though.

The origin tales vary, but each are known fondly as gifts that were made to last, as the result of deep loyalties and unbreakable connection. Bonds powerful enough to alter their own blood and being.

(a far less popular version places them as parting gifts from when the Taurs’ connection to the Feywild became tied to the Material instead. How this version first came about is unknown, but it lingers persistently in some areas)

The Forest lines carry crowns of antlers. The Alpine are shielded with thickened fur. The Prairie bare teeth fiercer than their foes. The Field run swift on dexterous feet and striking spurs.     

These examples are at their ‘strongest’ mind you. It’s easy to sport minimal qualities, and far rarer to carry the full extent – though not impossible!

Additional notes:

Antlers grow in from velvet to bare, but don’t shed frequently. A pair can be held for a few years at a time if well kept. Moderately tined, with fine ends. Generally stays on the small and delicate side. Not gender restricted. Said to have originated from the Autumn Courts.

Alpine fur is thickest at the neck, creating its distinct silhouette. Fur can be thick and wiry or long and silky. The ruff is also one of the first areas to reduce on a less ‘extensive’ expression of the coat. Said to have originated from the Winter Courts.

Fangs of the Prairie are the rarest of the four amongst the populations – though not to consider it unheard of. Carriers are often described as ‘fierce and powerful’ in skill and nature, suggesting an additional boon to the emotional aspect rather than a purely physical enhancement. Said to have originated from the Summer Courts.

Hooves of the Field are unique in that the toes can spread and flex considerably more than norm, providing a sure-footedness over difficult terrain like no other. Dewclaws are thickened spurs, adding an extra oomph to kicks. The most widespread of the four traits, albeit in as equally widespread variations. Most commonly exhibits as short spurs only. Said to have originated from the Spring Courts.

More Taur notes here!

[welcometogrouchland]

(ID in alt) hi sorry for back to back marvel fanart I swear I still have dc stuff lmao. However I did recently read X-Men: first class and got a bit carried away doodling this after Lmao