#i know it i can smell it

[raeyhem]

hear me out: mizu and akemi, jwqs au. like if I had a nickel for every pair of gals where one was a revenge consumed self proclaimed demon forced to cross dress as a man to survive and to pursue her quest and who has gone through a terrible fire related disaster and is now set on killing a specific bunch of guys and the other was a sheltered princess whose desires and goals are in direct conflict with her condition as a woman and so she has to learn to cater to the men around her, supported only by some old dude in other to achieve what she sets out to do I'd have two nickels which isn't a lot but it's weird that it happened twice.

[toytulini]

okay

[greenglowinspooks]

(DCxDP) The obligations of a rogue versus those of a parent (Pt. 4)

—

Tw: descriptions of body horror, Dr. Crane has PTSD and Does Not Realize, Crane has an actual panic attack and just doesn’t care, the Riddler makes one (1) sex joke about Batman

Will be crossposted to AO3 eventually

(Pt. 1 here) (Prev here) - (Pt. 5 here)

(Masterlist here)

—

Dr. Jonathan Crane is in his lab, the acrid scent of chemicals filling the air, and his hands are shaking.

Danny’s health, for the first week that he had him, had been steadily improving at an extremely quick rate. However, his healing had begun to stagnate. Danny said that it was because his body had run out of ectoplasm, and that while there was a lot of ambient ectoplasm in Gotham, he needed a stronger type in order to heal.

And so, that led Dr. Crane here.

He had stolen the research notes from the Penguin years ago regarding his experimentation on him.

(He quite vividly remembers the sound of bone creaking and groaning as it twisted, lengthened. The squelching of shifting tendons and muscles, the strange fabric-like tightening of skin. The feeling of going from man to monster, of losing all claim to his humanity.)

Danny had called him Liminal, part ghost. He had said that he was transformed by, among other things, a kind of synthetic ectoplasm.

Danny needed ectoplasm.

Crane had the research notes. He had every ingredient necessary. And yet, attempt after attempt failed.

The chemical smell burns his nose. His hands tremble.

Dr. Crane is not afraid.

He doesn’t feel fear anymore. He’s tried to, many, many times, but nothing has worked. And yet, his hands are shaking still.

(The horrifying sensation of vertebrae pop-pop-popping along his spine, growing and lengthening. The unbearable itching beneath his skin as toxin glands begin to form. The feeling of his teeth sharpening and elongating, of his skull growing, of his vision changing and brightening. The awful stench of chemicals. The awful stench of ectoplasm.)

Jonathan takes careful note of his shaking hands, his blurring vision, his accelerated heart-rate and shallow breathing.

(Human hands. Human vision. Human heart and lungs and organs.)

He takes note of them, but he does not let that distract him from the task at hand. Danny is not a chemist, but Jonathan is.

The boy knows enough about chemistry in theory, but he won’t go anywhere near Crane’s equipment. He seems to have some sort of intense fear of laboratory settings, probably developed during his stay with the GiW, and Crane is willing to respect that, if only because he cannot afford to lose him.

As such, Crane is the only one qualified to do this. And, unfortunately, if he isn’t successful the boy may very well die.

He heats the chemicals to precisely the right temperatures, adding each one to its correct container.

Dr. Crane thinks of the Scarebeast, that creature born of cruelty and greed and a sense of superiority. That creature which he tries to ignore is a part of him, that can never be removed. A damage which cannot be undone.

He pours the contents of a small beaker into a larger flask, watching the liquids swirl together. The stench in the air is becoming closer and closer to the one burned into his memory.

Crane’s whole body is wracked with unpleasant sensations. It’s truly unfortunate, he thinks, that despite his mind’s lack of fear, his body still reacts so harshly.

Jonathan’s eyes wander, eventually settling on a purple and green card sitting innocently on the corner of the table.

Right.

Even if they wiped out the GiW tomorrow, and even if Danny could survive without ectoplasm, he would still be in danger.

Crane has to get him back to good health. It’s the only way he can be sure that the boy can defend himself properly.

The solution in the flask begins to foam, and Jonathan does not hesitate as he adds the final ingredient. He pours the mixture into a new container, capping it and placing it into a freezer set to -40 degrees.

Hopefully this time he got the timing right.

Jonathan tries to relax, the ventilation in the room slowly but surely clearing the familiar smell from the air.

He thinks of the letter.

Surely, he thinks, that man can come up with some better material for his jokes. Or, at least something new.

Same old threats, same old attempted poisoning.

Aiming his threats at Danny, though, that was new. New and utterly unacceptable.

Scarecrow did what he had to.

He doubted that his solution would last forever, of course, as with that man it never did. As such, he would prepare both himself and Danny for the inevitable moment that his choices came back to bite them.

However, for the moment, they were safe. Danny could rest and recover, and Jonathan could figure out a plan to minimize possible damages.

Jonathan is no longer shaking.

He’s exhausted. This is his fifth attempt today, and each one leaves an unfortunate strain on his mind and body.

With a sigh, he settles himself into his seat at a nearby desk, opening up his computer and logging his most recent attempt. He still has to wait for it to chill to know if it was successful, but he can always update the logs later.

Once he’s done, he stretches, joints popping loudly as he walks to the freezer.

When he sees the results of his tireless work, the ghost of a smile flits across his face.

Success.

Jonathan picks up the jug of ectoplasm and leaves the lab, which is in all actuality the basement of the new apartment that he moved himself and Danny into after receiving the note. The scrappy old woman who was his landlord had told him that as long as he paid her five hundred dollars up front, she would let him set up in the basement without any questions or cop calls.

And so, the most expensive apartment in the Narrows was his.

At least, he thought, the distance between the basement and the apartment was short enough that Danny didn’t have to sit in while he was doing his labwork.

Jonathan knew that he didn’t exactly have a strong grasp on the concept of ‘lab safety,’ proven by his built-up immunity to almost every toxic chemical he’d ever encountered, and he doubted that Danny should be around such an environment.

He was back to the apartment quickly, not bothering to hide the self-satisfied smile on his face. Danny is sitting in his armchair, trying to read one of his books. Danny looks up, ready to greet him, when he sees the jug in his hands and pauses.

“Is that..?”

“Synthetic ectoplasm,” Jonathan says proudly, “I found the Penguin’s research notes and decided to recreate it, since you said that you needed it to heal properly. I’m not sure if it’ll work the same as what you usually have, but I hope it’s helpful all the same.”

Danny is standing, now, and looking at Jonathan with a strange look in his eyes. He looks, Jon thinks, like he’s about to cry.

Then Danny is rushing forward and wrapping his arms around Jonathan, his scrawny form shaking.

Jonathan is, for a moment, horrified. Did he do something wrong somehow? Why is this child, who’s so afraid of touch, hugging him?

And then he hears Danny’s voice, and he knows that it was all worth it.

“Thank you,” he’s mumbling, over and over, “thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you so much.”

“Of course,” Jonathan says softly, because what else can he say?

The boy cries in his arms for a while, and Jonathan briefly wonders what his life must have been like before, if a person like him can be seen as a comforting figure.

Then, Danny pours himself a small glass of the synthetic ectoplasm, putting the rest into the small fridge which had come with the apartment, and he settles back down, sitting in the armchair once again.

Jonathan sits opposite of him, and they chat with one another as Danny drinks.

Danny talks to him about the stars and tells him about different spaceships, and Jonathan makes sure to pay attention and ask the boy questions.

He doesn’t miss the way that Danny lights up every time he asks him something about his interests. He’s so passionate, so smart, a trait that he seldom sees outside of his fellow rogues, and Jonathan wants to encourage that.

It’s…nice. Peaceful, almost.

And then the front door flies open, because Jonathan isn’t allowed to have nice things.

“Jon,” a familiar voice rings out, “what the hell?!”

Danny is frozen in place, clearly terrified.

Jonathan heaves a sigh, turning to face the nuisance who’s entered his apartment.

“Eddie,” he drawls, “to what do I owe the pleasure?”

Edward’s face is red with anger as he invades Jonathan’s apartment.

“Oh, I don’t know! Maybe it’s the fact that you sent a bunch of rogues a cryptic message and then dropped off the face of the earth for two weeks! I was worried, Jon!”

Jonathan hums in acknowledgement.

“I didn’t think it was that cryptic,” he says, picking up a book in order to pointedly ignore the Riddler.

“Oh, of course you didn’t, you straw-stuffed hickory dickory dickhead. I swear, you’re always—” he pauses, finally having noticed Danny sitting opposite of Jonathan, “—who is this?”

“My apprentice,” Jonathan replies, dreading the upcoming headache he was no doubt going to develop from Edward’s company, “he’s helping me hunt down the GiW. His name is Danny.”

Edward gasps dramatically.

“You—an apprentice?! And you’re letting him sit in the old man chair?! You don’t even let me sit in the old man chair,” he wails, draping himself over the headrest of the couch with a flourish, “Jonathan, I thought I knew you!”

“Edward,” Jonathan says, “get out of my apartment.”

“Oh my goodness, this is incredible. You’re becoming the bat!”

“I am not becoming the bat, Eddie, now get out.”

Edward has a shit-eating grin on his face as he waltzes over to Danny. Danny, who seemed terrified when he first appeared, is now looking at him with obvious amusement written all over his face.

“I mean, look at him! The hair, the eyes, the scrappy build. If you put him in one of those traffic light vigilante costumes, he could easily pass as a Robin!”

“I’m not doing this with you today, Eddie.”

“Riddle me this, Jon: I am a treasure hidden inside of a chest. You can break me, or steal me, or give me a rest. I can flutter, or pound, or attack, or drop, but if you don’t have me, you’re certainly fucked. What am I?”

Jonathan pauses for a moment before he groans, dropping his head into his hands.

“Eddie.”

Danny sits still, a confused look on his face as he repeats the riddle silently. Then, his face lights up in delight.

“A heart!”

“Jon, I like this one,” Edward says with a smile, ruffling Danny’s hair, “you are correct! A heart, something that I wasn’t aware that our dear Jonathan had!”

“Eddie, stop.”

“No, no,” Edward says, “I was worried about you, you deserve this. I mean, you even missed girls night! You never miss girls night!”

“Girls night?” Danny asks, absolutely delighted.

“Oh, of course,” Edward says, sprawling over on the couch, dangerously close to just laying in Jonathan’s lap, “we have it once a week. I’m invited because of Selina and Jon’s invited because Harley likes him.”

“And what does girls night entail, exactly?”

“Eddie,” Jonathan groans, “please.”

“Well,” Edward hums, “we usually paint our nails, or watch a movie, or gossip about the other rogues, and occasionally, we tell each other about any ‘encounters’ we have with Batman,” he says, raising his eyebrows up and down.

Danny’s jaw drops.

“Edward, shut up,” Jonathan says, an irritated tone in his voice that wasn’t there before.

“No way,” Danny says, “I thought that Batman, like, hated you guys or something. You mean he actually..?”

“Oh, the Bat is much like a bottle of liquor or a cheap cigarette, in that he was made to be passed around.”

Danny chokes on air.

“Edward Nygma,” Jonathan hisses, getting out of his seat and looming over the man, “get the hell out.”

Edward pales.

“Leaving, leaving!” Edward says, dashing away from Jonathan. He pauses, turning to flash Danny a quick smile.

“Remember Danny, I’m your favorite uncle! Not any of the other rogues, me!”

With that, he leaves, the room falling completely silent.

And, as per usual, that silence does not last.

“You full-named him?” Danny asks gleefully, “and it worked?”

Jonathan just sighs, sitting down on the couch and rubbing at his temples.

“Please, don’t take anything Eddie says seriously. He’s a moron.”

“Dr. Crane, please let me come to girls night with you,” Danny pleads, his eyes sparkling, “I promise I won’t embarrass you.”

Jonathan groans.

“Of course you won’t, Eddie will do it for you.”

“Come on, please?”

“I think we’re a bit busy with the GiW at the moment,” Jonathan snaps. He pauses as he notices the crestfallen expression on Danny’s face.

This boy is going to be the death of him.

“Perhaps, though, when all that is taken care of…”

Danny cheers, grinning wildly, and Jonathan is not at all relieved to see him happy again. Certainly not.

The rest of the day is relatively normal.

Danny works on trying to get information from the GiW database while Crane refines his his fear toxin, both preparing for a raid on the GiW base they located in Gotham.

It was only a temporary base, nothing of note, but there was a chance of discovering more bases through it, and that wasn’t something either of them were willing to give up.

Still, something like this would take time. Rushing would only lead to failure.

…

Late in the night, long after Danny is fast asleep in his room, Jonathan pauses.

The GiW are not the only threat out there. They aren’t the only threat to him or to Danny. Perhaps it could be helpful to reach out to someone with greater resources than himself.

He sends a quick message to Red Hood.

Hopefully, he thinks, everything will go smoothly.

—

[sanjipussyindulgence]

watching the kaiju no. 8 anime and the kafka + reno dynamic is so top-tier. contrasting reno, a sterotypical edgy anime teenager, with kafka, a pretty regular guy in his 30s, has such endless comedy to it.

they're father-son coded but reno did the adopting. he saw how lame and wet kafka was and fetched the adoption papers out himself.

[zivazivc]

the morning (afternoon?) after this messy stunt. Floyd got off too easy in my opinion, but it's hard for Les to stay mad at him when he makes those sad pouting faces... 🤦

If you think Floyd's being really dumb at the start of this comic before getting a reality check, you have to take into account that he's madly lovesick and was feeling very smug atm; he's also a 15yo pop troll who thinks making out with someone means they're together now; and he assumed Les's sour mood was entirely the result of a nasty hangover...

P.S. They forgot about Hed lol (I almost forgot about him too, drew him just before posting lmao)

[jeeaark]

Alright. So. I'm not making this triangle conclusion because I like triangles

But because it's the only. the only conclusion I could make

For the morning after. After noticing Babe-

YOU'D THINK it'd go that Lae'zel and friends would never find out because even though I wanted to tell Lae'zel, A SHAME IT DIDN"T GIVE ME THE OPTION. A SHAME THE GAME WANTED ME TO KEEP THIS A DANG SECRET FROM MY TEAM AND JUST HAVE SOME SIMPLE-ASS INTERNAL CONFLICT.

But ohnononono, this magical patch 0 playthrough had other plans. Because for some reason. Babe was talking like we were in ACT 1 again. Babe became a killer coconut again

Babe knew. BABE KNEW ABOUT LAST NIGHT. AND BABE WAS CRANKY (understandably so of course)

And yet. Babe was also still allowing kisses. so. not. not OVER. BABE STILL LOVED THIS IDIOT HALF-ORC.

So. I could only conclude this. This is why.

and totally not because apparently it was a glitch (that they now fixed) all along pff

SO. Maybe just. This once. With this Tav. This playthrough. A Godsdamn Love Triangle friggin' happened alfdjkkasdj

Bonus (Because Greygold had to tell somebody):

[adastra121]

You know what. I’m gonna ramble about the Touchstarved LIs favourite places to kiss (based on the polls from @cacaobean760) — the most popular results — because I have thoughts!

Leander’s is the hands, because. He likes to be the special person, the only one who can actually touch MC’s hands without being affected, kissing them on the hand is a possessive thing. But also, even without the curse, he strikes me as someone who likes to kiss people on the hand in that classic romantic, gentlemanly fashion. He’s a performer, of course he’d go for that classic romantic gesture, raising your hand to his lips and kissing the knuckles. Kissing the inside of your wrist, your pulse point, he likes the amount of trust you place in him. And apparently he’s ticklish, so. Tickling under his jaw, he laughs and then he holds your hand there, and kisses your palm.

Ais likes the forehead or anywhere on the head, because he likes your mind the most, having lived in the Groupmind for so long, I don’t think he wants you to lose it and everything that makes you you. He strikes me as someone who really likes people’s minds, judging from the way he likes to listen to Kuras ramble about alchemy, judging from the questions he asks MC in the demo. He just seems the type to be genuinely curious and interested in what’s going on in your head. Kissing you on the forehead or temple whenever you’re lost in thought in those comfortable, quiet moments with him just to bring you back like: “Where’d you fly off to just now, sparrow?” Also he’s tall, so he can reach your forehead more easily.

Vere likes the intimacy, sensuality and power behind neck kisses. He likes the warmth, how your scent is stronger there. He likes how he can hear and feel your pulse under his lips. Gently tracing his sharp teeth along your pulse point, your carotid artery. With just enough pressure to make you hyper aware of his every movement. It would just take one bite. One quick slice of his fang, a spray of red and you’d bleed out in his arms. He thinks you’d taste heavenly. It doesn’t mean that he wants to kill you, he just likes that he can, he likes the amount of power he has over you — and maybe that you trusted him enough to give that to him.

[nopes-and-dreams-and-nightmares]

Power of the press!

Iris West and Lois Lane prepare to interrogate interview Lex Luthor.

I went entirely too hard on this for a lil three panel gag but it’s all good because Iris and Lois look good and that’s all that matters.

...that and making Lex sweat.

[linked-maze]

how do all your links smell like?

... ಠ_ಠ OKAY SO! Minish: Cut grass Spirit: Coal Wind: Seaweed Four: Pine trees Bunny: Chocolate Hyrule: Berries Wild: Decaying Sky: Pumpkins Koridai: Roses World: leather Ravio: Cinnamon Warrior: Yeasty Twilight: Musky Time: Disappointment Navi: Vanilla Angel: Toast with butter Djævel: Burnt toast You’re welcome XD

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

You're mine now, old man.

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[cosmicstarlatte]

when monsters take over the world and I'm one of the few humans that gets excited about my pussy being auctioned off like some special toy

[haunted-xander]

Forgot to post this my bad

[ryllen]

this PSA is brought to u, by first year farmer ・゚ *✧

[gin-juice-tonic]

If tumblr does allow ai to start scraping art from here I can at least take comfort in knowing that my art will re-poison the hands

[spielzeugkaiser]

[MASTERPOST]

Eskel is like "I WILL read this book about... A wolf and all his friends? Dancing and being. happy... 🥺"

[myfandomincolor]

Quick and messy but I could not get this out of my brain (⁠ ⁠･ั⁠﹏⁠･ั⁠) I wanted a few more frames but alas I am impatient.

Astarion has this banter line describing his perfume of "bergamot, rosemary, and a hint of aged brandy" and whew that got me thinkin about how cute it would be if my Tav (Bel) was weak for nice smells.

Anyway, the BG3 brainrot is real.

Welcome to my home where I disappear for 6 months then re-emerge to flail about my new favorite thing.