#au folks

[fictionkinfessions]

"A game for noncanon characters? Finally, I have so many people to thank!!! Like ummmmmm... Uhhhhh....... Liiiiikeee uuuhhhhhhh......... Fuck." <- Asshole who can't remember something as simple as the names of people who worked their asses off for them

x

[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.

[acoraxia]

Embodiment of War, Shamura

[mrkida-art]

The children of Thráin II; Thorin, Frerin and Dís.

[bamsara]

The Rehabilitation of Death Chapter 18: Divine Hangovers, and Other Intense Feelings.

After a drunken night they can hardly half remember, Lambert wakes up alone with a miserable headache, a destroyed room, a partially destroyed cult, and another assassination attempt from the God of Death who's battling an emotional crisis while they're currently battling the worst hangover of their life.

The damage in the morning becomes clearer, as well as its consequences. Narinder's emotional outburst leads to mixed signals, eating something without it rotting-much to the Lamb's delight-an encounter with a dog disciple who doesn't seem fond of the cat, and a promise of something valuable to the Lamb just to get them to eat something.

The Menticide Mushroom problem is fully known now, having almost taken a victim during the festivities prompting an investigation on who's smuggling the contraband into the cult. Leshy and his 'caretaker' are missing, and in an attempt to search for them, leads to another small discovery of consequences from the last night. A death is sensed, and pestilence is coming over the horizon.

Both Narinder and Lambert begin to act strange, think the other is the one acting strange, and maybe closeness is starting to become a little bit too common between them.

Chapter Wordcount: 16,507. Read the Tags / Notes. Happy Reading!

[barblaz-arts]

Sora thought she could live the rest of her life pretending to be normal, but a day comes when she encounters a ghost she just couldn't bring herself to ignore. As she says goodbye to an old playmate, she runs into a new friend.

[artofalassa]

The Truth

Some explanations and whole lot of angst....

Part ONE | Part TWO | Part THREE | Part FOUR | Part FIVE | Part SIX | Part SEVEN | Part EIGHT | Part NINE | Part TEN | Part ELEVEN | Part TWELVE | Part THIRTEEN

[the-hydroxian-artblog]

cat bot twimst (for Kal_aMari, and other stuff)

[fictionkinfessions]

Surge the Tenrec (transmasc edition, he/it pronouns please.) here for the noncanon folks ask game, my chao, Hazard! They were dumb as an orange cat and would only listen to me and literally nobody else. I miss them and their silly little drawings of Kit and I.

x

[starry-bi-sky]

No.

No, no, no, no, NO!

He's shaking. His heart is burning in his chest, pounding like a jackhammer against his ribs, and there's a trembling, aching rage building beneath his tongue and pressing against his teeth.

In his hands, his fingers tense and wrists locked, the article reads in big, black font: JOKER LOCKED IN ARKHAM ASYLUM AGAIN!

Danny shouldn't feel so angry about this, this is a good thing. Gotham doesn't have to deal with him for another few months at the least. He should feel relieved, a little more at peace.

He is not.

He cannot swallow the fury thudding behind his eyes, the burning white heat searing a deeper hole in his chest. A searing green filling static in his ears in the way only the rage of the restless dead can have.

How is he going to kill him now?

Arkham may be the only asylum in America made entirely of tissue paper, but it's still an asylum. There are cameras, guards, other patients resting inside. Danny can think of a million different ways to sneak in and kill Joker, but someone will hear his screaming.

It'd have to be rushed.

He doesn't want it to be rushed.

It's a cruel thought. Cruel and cold and merciless, but Danny doesn't feel an ounce of shame, not an ounce of guilt, for it. He wants to be alone with the Joker when he kills him, that's all he wants. In Arkham, you are never alone.

He forces his anger to bubble back down into his chest, stuffing it between his heartstrings and his ribs like a blanket you're trying to bunch up into a corner. It sizzles and burbles. The static begins to fade out into a high-pitched ringing; it sounds like distant screaming.

Danny is still trembling, but he can think a little clearer now.

He can wait.

He can wait. He can wait. He can wait. He canwait. Hecanwait. Hecanwait.

He can wait.

He's waited five years for this. He can wait one more week. One more month. One more year. However long it takes for the Joker to break back out, Danny can wait.

And when the Joker does, inevitably, break out.

Danny uncrinkles his fingers around the edges of the newspaper, loosens his limbs just enough so he can pay for it.

He'll be waiting.

The dead, after all, have all the time in the world.

[drawnfamiliarfaces]

🎊🏮🐉🏮🎊

[acoraxia]

when ur vessel adopts u (and then disowns you for flirting with another god)

[mrkida-art]

Thrór helping his son Thráin with Thorin's homework

[endomentendo]

It is time!

[lil-lemon-snails]

decided to draw some of your guys' tags from my harlequin sun and moon post!!! These guys are so much fun and you're all so funny >w<

[myuminji]

"So there's this hermit crab..."

and so they travel together to confront the evil(?) sea witch