#OC War Bat

[notsomeloncholy]

It's Halloween month that means baby bat time 🦇

This started as quick redraw of the rightmost sketch but I got...carried away. But here!!!

2021->2023 💚 i am quite happy w the direction my art's taken!!

[hermits-hovel]

don’t do this.

[ecoamerica]

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

[vampthropologist]

What if we were gothic royalty? You were lolita and I was ouji?

Ouji Iru transparent under cute

I'm so happy to actually do the style AHH!!!

[swift-creates]

@chrumblr-whumblr day 14: traumatic touch aversion and day 15: memory loss

wc: 342 | warnings: minor swearing | characters: Lieutenant Strike (OC) (pov), Captain Rex (though they’re not lieutenant or captain in this)

a bit from my Batfam AU!!!! in which Strike is Red Hood, Rex is Batman, and they’re both Trying to emote (and failing spectacularly).

—

“Good work out there, Hood.” Strike looked to see Rex staring out over the Gotham skyline. “What?” “In one night, you took down the drug ring I’ve been trying to disassemble for weeks.” He remained perfectly still as he spoke, the suit making his silhouette more like a lack of light than an object casting shadow. “Good work.”

Strike stared at her father the Batman. He stared at the city.

She couldn’t remember the last time he’d told her that. Not that he’d rarely done it, or never. She just couldn’t remember. She knew she had the memories, knew he’d said it before, but the exact picture remained fuzzy, fragments floating just beyond her grasp. That was fine. She didn’t need those memories anyway.

On some level, she did. She missed when they’d return to the Batcave after patrol on long and cold winter nights, and 99 would be waiting with blankets and two mugs of hot chocolate. They’d take those and curl up on the couch, intending to get up and go to bed at some point. But Strike would always fall asleep on his shoulder, and he’d stay there, afraid to wake her up, until his own eyes fell closed. Or so 99 had told her when she’d returned to the manor after the League.

Good work.

Of course it was, she told herself. The Red Hood doesn’t half-ass her missions.

But it meant something, coming from him.

“Thanks,” she muttered, poking at a stray piece of trash with her boot. He turned and looked at her. She couldn’t tell what he was thinking.

He stepped closer, and hesitated. Then he put a hand on her shoulder.

She flinched.

She flinched.

Her father put a hand on her shoulder, and she flinched.

He pulled away instantly, hand disappearing beneath his cape again, and turned back to look at the city lights.

Come back, everything inside her screamed. To him, to her childhood, to their old life. Come back. But the distance between them remained, and so did the silence.

[staycalmandhugaclone]

If you're new, this all starts with Touch Starved! You can read this little chunk as a standalone, or head back to the beginning for the full experience!

Part 2 of 3 for Trouble Breathing

Febuwhump Day 10 - Ch 2

“Difficulty Breathing” – Medic OC & Wrecker

Warnings: Heights, bats, mild gore, drowning, near death, hypothermia

WC: 2,849- prompt requested by the lovely @the-clone-zone - think I covered all of your prompts in this one!

We survived. My mind kept coming back to that simple realization. The boulders overhead had caved in. We’d been trapped. And we’d survived. I still found myself tensing at every shuffle of displaced stone or hiss of falling sand, but feeling the presence of the powerful man beside me offered a comforting reassurance that eased my fears. I don’t know if I could have forced myself deeper into the growing chill in that terrible darkness without the occasional brush of his arm against mine, the gentle touch of his hand against my back through my every flinch and hesitation.

When the trail narrowed, however, I knew I’d need to make it on my own for at least those dozen-or-so meters where the ground lining our path dropped sharply on either side into a void too deep for even my light to pierce. Treading forward, I crouched just enough to lower my center of gravity, letting my feet glide mere inches over the smooth stone. I’d made it nearly halfway before realizing there was no shuffle of movement behind me and stole a hesitant glance over my shoulder to find Wrecker still standing stiffly at the edge of the precipice, shoulders drawn harshly back, body shifting beneath too-quick breaths, seemingly torn between tearing his gaze away from that infinite drop and being unable to look away.

“Wrecker?” I called quietly, quickly drawing his attention back to me.

“Uh.. that…” Heights. I remembered one of Crosshair’s teasing quips mocking Wrecker for his problem with heights. “It’s-t’s fine, jus’ gotta…” His body shifted as though attempting to loosen himself up in preparation, but, when he tried to force his leg to take that first stop, he froze, body swaying unsteady. He purposefully turned his gaze up, stealing a quick step back, and I could hear the sharpness of his huffed exhales catch on his mic.

“Well, aren’t we just a pair.” I murmured warmly. He glanced back at me for a moment before letting out a chuckle, head nodding lightly. I watched his gaze sweep over the too-narrow path once more before drawing a deep, tense breath.

The shuffle of stone overhead nearly robbed me of my own balance, head snapping to the mocking nothingness of pitch black looming far beyond the pitiful reach of my light. Wrecker. Focus on Wrecker… helping him with his fear was a far easily task than trying to deal with my own.

The man still stood unmoved, attention also carefully locked on where that sound had come from. Swallowing back my own dread, I slowly reached for my helmet, purposefully schooling my expression into something nearing calm as I pulled the dome over my head, instantly wrenching his gaze back to mine.

“I think we’re going to have to help each other through this a bit.” I whispered, a hapless smirk toying with my lips as my words fluttered away in a tiny cloud through the frigid air. His shoulders sank, and I could almost feel him struggle with the violent denial and fear straining against that first step. “Think you can focus on me? Just for the next few minutes?” My voice softened, falling into a gentle rhythm.

“You… yuh probably shouldn’ take that off.” He warned, and my heart melted.

“As soon as we’re on the other side, I’ll put it back on, but I want you to look at me for now. Okay?” I replied through a smile that no longer felt quite so forced.

“Y… yeah, okay.” He relented, arms flaring wide as he finally managed to set his foot down atop the thin wedge of rock.

“Good!” The praise burst from me in a quiet rush of air, earnest glee swelling through my chest. “The path is right beneath you. You’re doing great, Wrecker.” I continued softly. “Just come straight towards me.” Movements unsteady, shaking beneath nerves wrought with panic, he stole another step. “That’s perfect, Wreck. Keep focusing on me, and we’ll be out of here in no time.” I promised, beaming as he gradually began to get faster.

“Aren’t yuh still scared?” He asked, and I heard the slight breathlessness robbing his speech of that innate exuberance. I gave a little shrug.

“Apparently, there’s not a lot I need to be scared of with you nearby.” I replied with a toothy grin, and my heart swelled at the gravely chuckle that reverberate deep in his chest.

“Normally folks’re scared because I’m nearby.” He retorted. For just a moment, my expression fell. He’d tried to say it like it was nothing, but I could hear the whisper of hurt in his voice, and I wanted to spend an eternity telling him every way that they were wrong, every way I adored him until each trace of self-doubt and sorrow was washed clean. He paused, visor still carefully trained on my face.

“Wrecker, you are one of the most amazing, loving people I’ve ever met.” I felt no hesitation in letting the words slip reverently over my lips, urging them into the very fabric of his being. “You’re kind when it would be so easy to be cruel," he’d gone so still as I spoke, momentarily forgetting what horrors lay around us, and I felt that glimmer of hope that he just might let himself believe me, "and you’re gentle in a way that I-”

But then the clatter of stone stole the words from my tongue. I barely had time to watch him wrench the blaster from his back before that shriek tore through me; felt it vibrate violently through my bones. I’d just begun to turn, muscles jerking in that exigent impulse to see the nightmare before remembering the simple need to run, when a wall of iron muscle slammed into me with enough force to rip the air from my lungs, body flying back before even realizing I should be afraid.

I could hear the flurry of blasterfire. I could hear something that sounded like my name roaring from a voice I was sure I knew even as what tiny whispers of air my panicking diaphragm fought desperately to gain were wrenched from me in choked gasps of agony, some spiraling segment of my mind belated grasping the realization that the darkness had birthed one of those terrifying beasts; that I’d made myself an easy target; that it had surely been watching us since I’d first spoken, and, with Wrecker beginning to close the distance between us, had sprung for an easy kill; and I could hear the loud clap of leather wings around me; the scream of cloth and skin tearing beneath those frightful claws.

My body was moving before my mind could make sense of the suddenness with which I was robbed of that gentle quiet and thrust into a frenzy of panic, hands searching desperately for pistols I knew to be useless against the beast clutching me in with its hind legs. Still, my arms flailed to reach around the bulk of its covetous talons; and I tried vainly not to remember the length of those razor sharp claws as they vanished between the plates of my armor, burring into my waist; my shoulder.

Vaguely, I noted the rushed movement of a beam of light, the intimidating mass of his form illuminated by the ceaseless flashes sapphire glow. Wrecker. Fear forgotten, he was sprinting after us, enraged shout tearing from his throat. Fighting. He was fighting to get me back. I should be fighting, too.

Teeth ground, I finally managed to grab one of my pistols, hand shaking violently as I leveled the short barrel at the thing’s neck and fired. The creature shook more from surprised than pain, bony head craning down to snap at me with those massive fangs. I watched numbly as several flashes of light erupted from my weapon to sear into its throat. The choked screech it let out nearly robbed me of what failing wisps of thought I could cling to, ears threatening to burst.

Its grip shuffled around me, claws clicking atop my armor where they failed to find purchase in those tiny gaps in-between. I could smell the tang of burnt flesh, caught glimpses of holes still gleaming blue littering those wings. It was growing anxious, movements quickening in a desperation to reach safety with its prey. If it managed to get beyond the range of Wrecker’s repeater, I was dead…

The flash of metal that suddenly ripped through the membrane of one of those wings drew another deafening shriek from it, and it took a short eternity for my mind to reach some conclusion as to what it was: the three-pronged head of a grappling hook. Pistol slipping thoughtless from near limp fingers, I watched myself reach for it, watched my hand struggle to connect myself to it via the anchor built in to the waist of my gear, and I watched those massive talons finally pull away from me as the creature concluded I wasn’t worth the fight. The instant my weight caught on that line, it ripped clear of those wings. And I fell.

I should have known how long Wrecker’s grappling hook was. I should have thought to try and use my own. I should have kept my damn helmet on, but as my body slammed into the icy waters hidden at the bottom of that engulfing darkness, I knew only panic and pain and cold as my entire body convulsed, lungs seizing in a sharp gasp that only wrenched the nearly frozen liquid down my throat.

My arms locked against my chest, knees tucking into my stomach, numb to the agony of where that thing’s talons had left deep tears through flesh and fabric alike as muscles snapped taut amidst the frigid presence overcoming me. My chest fluttered in sputtered gasps, limbs jerking in some whispered plea to drag myself to the surface, to breathe; to scream, but there was only the darkness of those merciless waters closing over me.

I didn’t notice the pull at my waist until my body finally breeched the surface. The instant I felt air touch my lips, my body burst back to life, violent coughs tearing from my throat in a desperate attempt to force my lungs clear of that stagnant, icy water, retching around the sharp taste of minerals and rot atop my tongue.

Something was grabbing at my arms, pulling, dragging me over a ledge. Couldn’t think. Couldn’t focus beyond the screaming panic of cold, body shivering too violently to steal more than a fleeting gasp of air before it fled me in a strangled cough, hands curling against my chest in some useless attempt to retain even a whisper of heat.

Something was moving; shouting. I could hear shouting beneath the vague sensation of my body being jostled against someone else’s touch. I was sure that was an arm clasped beneath my chest, holding me up from the smooth stone, but when something slammed against my back, even that meager trace of lucidity fled me, body flailing anew to escape. A second blow struck me, then a third, and the flood of water that burst from my lips brought such an overwhelming rush of relief and hurt, I could do nothing as my body collapsed against him, torso bucking with wheezed gasps as that burning suffocation finally began to quell. That touch returned to my back, now sweeping up and down in vigorous strokes just bordering on painful.

“Doc! C’mon, Doc; say somethin’!” That voice begged, and it took several seconds for me to remember.

“Wre… Wreck…” I wheezed, legs shifting just enough to push me further into him, begging for his strength and warmth to somehow free me of the terrible hurt and fear, and I felt his body sink in a sharp sigh of relief.

“Think your pack got knocked off by that thing’s claws. You got any bandages in those pockets?” He asked breathlessly. I had to fight to make sense of his words. Pockets… the… the satchels at my waist… I only just managed a nod, unable to convince my arm to even tense with the intent of reaching for them. Without hesitation, he quickly dug through one to find the wildly insufficient medpack.

Unfazed, he began ridding my shoulder of armor to reveal the series of puncture wounds perfectly illustrating the gap between my shoulder bell and the chest plate. He didn’t waste time asking. I felt him guide me to lean back against his chest before he grasped the ruined fabric of my shirt. It tore like paper between his hands.

The sound of ripping fabric barely registered, mind only distantly noting the steady trails of crimson seeping from wounds I knew would be painful if not for that terrible numbness of the cold. It felt like I’d merely blinked, but my shoulder was suddenly covered in bandages, and he’d already moved to my hip, some fleeting apology catching on his lips before tearing the cloth concealing pierced flesh there as well.

“-ay awake!” The world jostled sharply around me. Couldn’t tell if it was from the way my muscles convulsed or something else. “C’mon, please stay awake!” Wrecker… he was running… Maker, it was so cold…

“-em things! Came outta nowhere an’ tried ta take off with her!” He was shouting. I think I could hear more voices. “Argh! The karking signal’s all over th’ place! I can’t… yeah, ‘course I got’er!” The shrill cry of blasterfire screamed over whatever response hummed from his speakers, reluctantly drawing some broken sliver of awareness to the distant clapping of leather all around us.

“Hey! Hey-hey; doc! Doc, look a’ me!” His voice boomed from that fearsome helm, but I knew him in an instant.

“Wr-Wr…Wre-”

“Yuh don’t gotta talk, but yuh gotta stay awake!” Almost before the silhouette dipped into the halo of light around us, grasping limbs already stretched forward with flared talons, Wrecker leveled his repeater and sent a rapid burst of fire strafing across its face. With an affronted cry, the thing vanished back into the darkness. “I’ll get yuh to Tech, Doc! He’ll get yuh all fixed up! Jus’ gotta stay awake!” Another creature dove for him. With a surge of speed, Wrecker just managed to leap out of the way, one arm remained locked around me while the other aimed his weapon once more.

This was insanity. Even unhindered beneath my dead weight, there was so little hope of making through the swarm of monsters vying for an easy meal.

“Wr-Wreck…” I called, voice still shattering from how that terrible chill robbed me of breath.

“They’re already waitin’ for us!” He promised, somehow still managing that lightness in his voice as if some part of this were fun. “Jus’ gotta get up this hill, an’ we’ll see em!” I managed to glance forward but saw nothing beyond the steady climb of that rocky path fading into shadow for some unknown distance without granting any hope of ever reaching the surface. We barely made it through the swarm with all of his brothers fighting alongside us. There was no way…

“Y-you ne-need to let- to let me g-go.�� I felt the sudden falter in his stride and was glad that I couldn’t see the hurt or shock or anger that stole over that handsome face.

“No.” That hint of fun was gone. The way his voice growled through the modulators of that fanged helmet offered none of his overzealous joy. I felt the strength of him in the firm clarity of his voice, suddenly faced with the reality that this man was more than his brute force. Just like Echo, I had to remember that, through all his games and jokes and banter, he was one of the most accomplished soldiers of the GAR. “Not an option, Doc. We’re getting’ outa here together! ‘m not about to let a bunch’a oversized rats take us out!”

I felt him push forward with a fresh burst of speed, volleys of blasterfire screaming about us in an almost calculated rhythm, and I wanted to sob – I wanted to find some way to explain; to make him understand my horror at the mere thought of being responsible for his death; to beg him to acknowledge that his only chance was to leave me, but my lips refused to move, chest bucking beneath too-shallow breaths. Still, I felt myself try, felt the strained air catch in my throat, jaw shifting listlessly around near-words I just couldn’t quite give life.

“We’re almost there, Doc! Jus’ hang on!” I didn’t want to… Maker, I just wanted to remember what warmth felt like; I wanted to remember how it felt for my lungs to draw in more than a quivered gasp. “Hey! No-no; c’mon – keep your eyes open! Look a’ me!” I wanted to forget the burn of muscles trembling in that futile desperation to fend off the terrible cold turning my bones to ice and robbing my fingers of feeling. “Doc!” I wanted to remember that beaming smile he so willingly shared with the worlds.

Next Chapter

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[thefluffiestconvor]

More Peckii art :)

[ecoamerica]

Watch the 2024 American Climate Leadership Awards for High School Students now: https://youtu.be/5C-bb9PoRLc

The recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by student climate leaders! Join Aishah-Nyeta Brown & Jerome Foster II and be inspired by student climate leaders as we recognize the High School Student finalists. Watch now to find out which student received the $25,000 grand prize and top recognition!

[a-treatise-on-velociraptors]

Whenever people call the existence of female characters "woke" I just remember when I was a kid and I goddamn wished there were more female characters. Jedi, transformers, any 'boy' property I liked I wished there were more girls. I promise you, little girls don't see Rey and think "oh wow look at the feminist girlboss propaganda what a mary sue", little girls look at Rey and go "holy shit she's so cool"

[brightwingedbat]

Puts a creacher on your dash

[bardicious]

I'm writing out my superhero comic idea and it's history, and it's like embarrassingly obvious what my favorite shows are. lmao.

[napolka]

Cao, the vampire queen

[hombrediablo]

My newest Star Wars oc Horus the chadra-fan! Maybe ze will kiss Hunter 🥝

[moonatikart-blog]

"Alright Warmaster, Lord Commander. Take a look. Oh, um, do you like the display? We spent a lot of time on the display."

context here: https://derpibooru.org/images/3169709

ft. Lucent Eclipse, Selenite, unnamed dork

[heavenbat]

I got possessed by the spirit of writing and spat out a fic about one of my Star Wars characters, a Twi'lek who was raised by a Sith Cult :3

[celestialhole]

Today absolutely murdered me and I took a 3 hour nap but I'm up now, this is my oc Ivy I'm still working on her backstory and stuff like that but I got her personality and aesthetic down..so that's gotta count for something. I of course did not draw this I went on picrew (cause I can't draw for shit) and customized her the art credits goes to Edhelsen (name on the bottom right)

Did I mention I'm shipping her with Tyr-

[tempestdivine]

[image i.d. depicts åsgårdsreien/the ride of asgard/the wild hunt of odin by peter nicolai arbo (1872). a group of horsemen are in the sky, being led by thor. text is in the middle that says "bound and thus" in cochin italics font.]

TITLE

bound and thus

FANDOM

god of war

PAIRING

kvasir!oc x heimdall

QUICK SUMMARY

kvasir and gullveig are two gods who were abused and betrayed by those they cared for. together they are formidable foes against the æsir and vanir gods—one fated to bring the end and the other driven by pure rage. but there are those who don’t believe in fate and will do whatever they can to end the cycle.

INCLUDES

main mlm relationship ; character deaths ; unreliable narrator ; negative-to-positive character arc ; nonlinear storytelling (aka. long flashbacks) ; and lots of angst.

NOTE

this story serves as a rewrite of god of war: ragnarök. the two main characters, kvasir and gullveig, are both included in the god of war games, but they are revamped in this story as completely different characters.

PUBLISHED

wattpad link

ao3 link

[just-an-enby-lemon]

Kristen Kringle in my Rogues Headcannon Au:

- She is from Metropolis (ew) and since my version of Riddler lived in Metropolis from age six to sixteen the two happened to go to the same middle school.

- She is a bissexual trans woman and while Metropolis by itself is a progressive city there's still a lot of assholes there. Her parents were actually very supportive and at 11 she had already socially transitioned.

- Unfortunally when news spread that she was trans a lot of parents and students alike were opposed to her and tried to banish her from competing in sports and using the right bathroom.

- That was when the bathroom brigade was formed by Lisa Jerkins (my unimportant OC who's main fuction is give Ed extra trauma later) and Eddie Nasthon, they would scoult her to the bathroom, even if it meant just getting up in the middle of class and getting detention, to protect her from being attacked by biggots.

- They were inseparable during middle school.

- She was the first person Edward came out as transmasc for and also his first kiss.

- Unfortunally after two years of suffering attacks from classmates, parents and even some teafhers, her parents decided it was better to her to move schools.

- They keept contact at first, but after his dad broke Edward's phone during a beating, they stopped talking.

- They later meet again in the Iceberg, Kristen was hanging with her new work friends on the Iceberg. One of the girls went to the bar to flirt and grab some drinks and came back crying because some douche she had tried to flirt with had called her "easy, boring and stupid". It was Edward. He wasn't even being purposifully rude, he just has low emphaty and was understimulated and feeling ignored by Oswald witch makes for a very cranky Riddler.

- Kristen of course went to confront the guy and got even more angry when she found him talking with Penguin's underage secretary. Until she realized it was Eddie and he was helping the girl do her homework of all things (in my AUverse Miss Tuesday is Oswald secretary and she bullies/manipulates Ed into doing her homework a lot). So instead they catched up.

- They rekindling their friendship may had resulted in Edward mudering her abusive boyfriend during the most akward double date on history (Edward brough Selina - who was already his ex - because she had shown interest on Kristen and Ed has no common sense or understanding of social norms and is just lucky he was born with a huge charisma status anyway). But hey, he is a known criminal, he is one of the less murderous members of the Dark Knigth Rogue Gallery, but he is a known criminal.

- Selina had the time of her life. No one else did. But Selina enjoyed herself. She got to pet Kristens cat, made a pretty woman blush, stoled a gourgeus astray, helped in the murder of an abusive asshole, she and Ed showed their sick dance moves. It was great.

- To everyone else it was a really bad night. And it almost ended Ed's and Kristen's friendship forever (and Tom was literaly dead by the end of it). But Selina had fun. And that is what really matters.

- No but really. Edward did not murder Kristen, because he isn't a misoginistic creep here and was not trying to convince her to not be mad. He was actually trying to convice himself that he didn't mind she was mad because he was right and is great and fuck her.

- They did slowly recovered their friendship though. With some meedling for Selina, because she cared about the fact other people didn't had a great night.

- Kristen did had a one night stand with Selina at some point.

- She somehow ends dating Doctor Joan Leland who in my AU is - personality wise - closer to Gotham's Lee than this version of Leslie Thompkins.

- The fact Leland is Jonathan Crane's psychiatrist (and the only member of the Arkham staff Jon - bregrundgly - respects, witch is what made her survive being Jon's psychiatrist because Crane is famous for making them became suicidal and quit) is not really important, but I'm briggin it up anyway.