#unedibly

[vhrppsn3b7n]

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[feartoxinjelloshot]

The Black Mask was both with the name Roman, to Charles and Ruby Sionis, the wealthy proprietors of a cosmetics business empire based in Gotham City.

By all accounts he was a normal toddler. He was weaned off of milk and sent to preschool and potty-trained and all of the other things small children were bound to do. He was a quiet, polite, intelligent little boy who did his parents proud - they had been trying for a child for a long time, someone to inherit the business when they passed on. They made sure tiny Roman was aware of his importance early on. What better way to make a child feel special, feel loved? They were going to trust him with everything. He was going to be just fine at it.

The company, really, was Ruby's world. She was a woman, and cosmetics were a feminine empire. Charles - though he held his fair share of business responsibilities - was always more dedicated to his lifelong passion for hunting and taxidermy, which had been instilled in him by long family trips with his own father, out to remote stretches of forest, mountain and grassland to take down all kinds of exotic trophy prizes. When Roman got old enough Charles bravely attempted the same with him, even buying him his first very own gun for his tenth birthday. Roman was shy and hesitant, sometimes to the point of vexing his father with his lack of confidence, but Charles was patient and understanding and slowly coaxed the hunt out of Roman as well. The kid had a real talent for it, when he got over himself enough to calm down and aim. He was a genuine crackshot, and his father bragged about it at every chance, talking him up and ruffling his hair fondly. Those were some of the few times Charles saw his son show him a real smile.

The other side of it was not as comforting.

See, both sides of Roman's family line, in varying quantities and distributions, had always been prone to hereditary psychosis. This particular affliction had miraculously skipped both of his parents, and in a superstitious attempt to ward it away from themselves and their son, they neglected to ever mention it to him. In fact, they made a concentrated attempt to prevent him from ever figuring out what psychosis was in any meaningful way that might affect his development.

Roman grew up surrounded by animals. Sometimes they were whole animals, deer and tigers and caribou; sometimes they were just the head, set into a wooden plate on the wall. Each had a different personality and a different voice. They had been his friends since he was a baby, and he considered them truer confidants than even his parents. They comforted him when he was at his worst, spoke to him in quiet tones that he had learned by that point not to respond to in front of his parents: it's okay, you're okay, champ and you only did what he made you do and but you won't pick that awful gun up again, right?

But he never forgave himself for killing their sisters, the ones in the woods that looked and moved like them, with beating hearts in their chests and big shining eyes that went flat when his father finished them off. He never forgave himself for skinning them with a silver knife and eating their flanks when there was nothing else in the camp at night, because his father said he was proud of him and his chest was cleaved down the middle by a child's sick loyalty.

At a lack of other avenues Roman constructed himself into two faces. The first one was a happy, healthy little human boy who went to school and smiled at his parents and never made eye contact with any of his father's taxidermy or walked around the house at night on soft padding feet. The other one was his true self - an animal, among other animals, whose face looked less like the one in the bathroom mirror and more like a black thing with white eyes, too big to be a wolf and too small to be a bear, that howled its gleeful music up the chimney along with the chorus that lit up the mansion's crowded hallways just before dawn.

And for a while he survived like that: with his mask in the day and his life at night, not content but not wholly unhappy either.

But he had done his job well. He had done his job so well that his parents, through a combination of their own prideful ignorance and Roman's genuine deception of them, had not noticed that anything at all was wrong with their son. He passed his classes and didn't make trouble and spoke of his friends on occasion, and went hunting with his father every summer, and he was fine. They were all fine.

So on his eighteenth birthday they gathered him up and had a party for appearances and said Son, we had you late. We were old then and we're older now. We want to retire. And we love you, and we trust you, and so we're going to give you the company.

And Roman thanked them, gathered every shred of his human mask up to his face, looked at it, realized it wasn't going to be enough to cover himself up, and went deep into the house with his friends and didn't come out.

His parents were devastated. They'd been working so hard for this. The past eighteen years, and they'd been raising him for this. He loved them. They loved him. How could he be unhappy? And throwing a tantrum like a child? What had they raised him for if not this moment?

Roman, in the house, had been busy with the process of taking one of his father's unused taxidermy mounts, a deep dark glossy lacquered thing, and using his hands and a whittling knife to carve it into his real face.

The black mask. The wolf. It came out looking more like a skull, but he figured that it was penance, after all, for all the siblings he had killed. He put it on and was overcome with hysterical calm relief, which was when his parents found the spare key to his rooms and broke in.

Their anger at him for what he had done quickly turned to rage at each other, and the company, and then Roman again, and each other, and through their screaming match and Roman's hysteria and the ceaseless chattering of the animals on the walls, nobody remembered the leftover sconces of candles downstairs until the smoke alarm went off.

To be short: Roman made it out. He was the only one.

Obviously, he was the primary suspect for the fire. They didn't believe that he couldn't have engineered the physical evidence, or that he wasn't lying about where he was at the time. There was nobody else alive from the house to confirm his statement. His face would never be the same again, that much was clear: the detectives and psychiatrists made quick work of the family mental history that he claimed he had never even heard about before that point - fat chance, kid - and by the time he got around to blabbering over his so-called siblings nobody took him seriously at all. They wrote him up. He couldn't be officially accused until the hearing, but it was an open-and-shut case. Poor bastard, but hey, it's Gotham. Shit like this happens every other week.

Roman Sionis never made it to the hearing. He was out of the hospital for three hours before anyone noticed he was gone and his trail stopped cold at the exit doors. In forty-eight hours he had gone from one of the richest teenagers in the city to homeless, penniless, barefoot, and permanently disfigured - the fresh lacquer on his wooden mask had melted in the heat and fused straight onto his face, unless he wanted a complete transplant, skin and all.

Roman didn't. He figured that he had hidden enough. In his abject shock, he was starting to show some of his father's confidence, something he really always had hidden somewhere in the back but had always been pressing himself down too hard to show. He went into the guts of the city and stole a new set of clothes - all black, like the mask. If he was going to do this, he might as well do it in style. He was intelligent, a fast-talker, knew when to be quiet, and he really was still a crackshot, even after all those years. That was shit that could get a man pretty far down where he was.

The police never found Roman Sionis. They found the man who wore his body, sure, but the boy had been gone for a long, long time.

[jackpersoncy]

loving grover fr but i just want my boi to eat a can

[urpersonalpublicgalaxy]

trad art sketches

hoping tumblr doesn't tank the quality

[more-profound-bond]

Charles: So what’s for dinner?

Erik, staring at the food he just burnt: Regret.

[pansyfemme]

on a related note: vegetarian americans of the audience. preffered “holiday roast”? we picked up tofurky this year and im trying so hard to not be disapointed its not the field roast cranberry hazelnut one im obsessed with

[the-ace-with-spades]

I love it when you go to a GP and the receptionist (with no medical training) tells you it's probably tonsillitis (it's fucking not) after hearing your chief complaint and instead of getting you to an appointment, refers you to the pharmacy so the pharmacist can prescribe you antibiotics.

Surprise suprise, pharmacist tells you it's not tonsillitis and she can't prescribe you anything but paracetamol and rest.

It keeps getting worse and two days later you go from treating patients at A&E to being a patient at A&E because your airway closes on you and you can't fucking breathe

[gaydavidtennant]

not to shit on anyones parade or whatever but the "greasy johnson is jesus" theory is so stupid. all three of the baby swap kids are white. we know explicitly from season 1 that neil knows better than to cast white jesus.

[the-valiant-valkyrie]

[noctualagenaria]

behold

ship chart be upon ye

layers under the cut

each others worlds, romantic interests + unrequited love ^ ( i forgor wrio x lyney and kavenari,,, in the romantic interests spot, also theres one orange line on zhongli + raiden that is bc i fucked up thats the exes line,,)

exes, friends + family ^

enemies, co-workers ( in the literal sense ) + a secret ninth thing which ive jus dubbed as archons sdfsdfs

kaeya + diluc are exes to me, nilou is a dilucs half sister layla is also kaeyas half sister and i didnt Mean to make them exes but i thought that was funny sdhgfs, lyney - ganyu enemies was based on a co-op experience i Died laughing of so i added it and dilucs got so many enemies bc he is Insane Tee Ehm

ask me about specifics i dare you !!!

[maretriarch]

when youre born you are separated into two food slime camps, yogurt or cottage cheese

[achillmango]

‘The Challenger’ for the ask game?

hi Skeleton! Thank you for the ask! = D

Excerpt from 'The Challenger'

Avelos' blade was still at his neck and she drove her knee in one last time before getting up. He rolled over, pain painting his taunting features. She took a moment to savor it, she owed herself that much. She offered her hand. He smiled as he accepted it and she drew him up with great effort.  King Ethert held her hand up and the crowd roared. Avelos raised her shield above her head, proudly displaying the crest of Terragoth. Her country was safe. She may never see her people again, but they were safe.

[alihberg]

I've seen a lot of people talking about Cody returning and getting killed off in the next bad batch episode and Din and Bo-Katan becoming "a thing" in the the mandalorian episode...

If either of these happen, I will cry.

And if (Force forbid) both were to happen, that would be my breaking point.

Cody is my emotional support clone, I need him to be safe and I honestly don't have the energy to get into my thoughts on Dinbo rn but let's just say I don't like it, for multiple reasons.

I usually don't put much thought into rumors HOWEVER, these would be devastating to me on a personal level. I'm worried😀

[muppenthings]

When Keiki’s a toddler, how do they get through the eating anything and everything phase to the picky phase?

(Un?)luckily, he never had a picky phase. Young mers will gobble anything since they grow a lot (their babies are very small comparably).

The crew just try to be faster than him. It's easier to say "No" and stop him from doing somehing than attempt to pry it from his mouth. Cause he do the whole "starts chewing faster" thing once he gets hold of something. And Keiki's very fast so they had many moments of "Is that safe for mers get the guide!!" :,)

[violentdevotion]

lost my final year of college and first year of uni to a pandemic. a week after i start uni my friend dies. a week after that my dad beats me because of my 'bad attitude' a month later my mum stops speaking to me because i went to his funeral. and i managed all of that unmedicated 😏

[sanicsmut]

*looking throught the actually plural tag and seeing anti-endo tags like