#✘ HC.

[stankycowboy]

Severen is that “friend” that borrows your stuff and when confronted has “no idea what you’re talking about”. He also breaks into your house uninvited to sleep. He has no friends. So this ain’t really a problem.

[savagecowboy]

𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓

It was abhorrently bright. He had never noticed before how much light there really was, the tan grass seeming to glow with it. His eyes were squinted to slits, and still looking out from their dark enclosure felt like it was blistering his retinas.

“Jesus” he hissed.

There was a stir nearby him, no doubt his fascination with his new intolerance to daylight disturbing his creator; the ol’ curmudgeon attempting to slumber in one of the dark recess of their shelter. Jesse had warned him that the sun would be a danger to him now, painful to view, deadly to his body. The man had failed to elucidate to what degree the vulnerability would be, and as someone who did not take kindly to limitations, Severen had stayed awake through the breaking dawn to see for himself. To say he was not prepared was putting it lightly, but it did not discourage him either.

With this bit of knowledge acquired there was one thing more to educate himself on. Severen edged the board they had used to close off the dilapidated shack to the side just enough so a bright beam of sunshine cut through the dark. He made sure Jesse was well clear of the light and placed his hand just beside it. Bracing for— something— the cowboy thrust his hand into the beam. Immediately his skin began to sear. With a wail he retracted his hand, not even conscious he was doing so. The pain was unfathomable, his mind blanking to a white scream of excruciating hurt.

“What in the devil are you doing boy!” Jesse said in a quiet rage, groggy from being woken from his deep slumber.

“Ain’ I told you the sun could do for you!”

“Jus’ wanted to know” Severen says staring at the sizzling black stain on his pale skin. The edges are already healing, new pink growth knitting together blistered patches and aging to match the surrounding flesh all before his eyes. Soon, the only evidence of the burn is a sooty remnant; he brushes it off and flexes his fingers.

“Ain’ too bad”

“Ain’t too bad?” Jesse reproaches, raising his voice—something he doesn’t do often.

“Is it gonna be too bad when you catch flame in the noonday sun? End up a pile of ash no one remembers?” He chose his words for impact, he captures his new partner’s attention.

“I ain’t tryin’a pass in my chips Jess, I jus’ wanna know. I don’t take to bein’ told I can’t do somethin’ without knowin’ why”. It is not an unreasonable statement, Jesse gives him that, and knowing the sort of man he has thrown his lot in with, he has to acknowledge that Severen didn’t go as far as he might have expected when it came to his morbid curiosity.

“Well, what you can expect is to end up lookin’ like a chunk’a coal or worse. Don’t get caught outside in the day. Even if you protect y’rself it’ll still getcha. Unless you in something solid”, he knocked against the wood of the shack— not the best example, but Severen got the point—“you’ll still feel the burn”. The cowboy raised his hand to Jesse, showing the lack of evidence of his burn.

“Heals up pretty quick” he says by means of suggestion, Jesse shakes his head with a mystified look.

“You cracked son, can’t come it”, he rubbed his bleary eyes, unable to comprehend why they were having this conversation; and at the same time knowing he must have found the right man now that they were.

“You gon’ drag me out” he sighed.

“I just wanna know how long?”

“Long what? You thick, I just said not to do it!”

“But how long” Severen repeated insistently.

“Fuck if I know, you think I lasted these last years caperin’ around the one thing that’d off me?”

“C’mon you ol’ croaker, don’t know at all?”

“No!” Jesse was starting to lose his temper, even though he knew it wouldn’t do any good. To think he’d spent all this time trying to find a partner to mind his back only to find the only curly wolf who would eat the devil with his horns on.

“Imma find out” and Severen stood up, clouds of grey-brown dust floating into the light that barred Jesse from crossing over to his side.

“You plumb weak North a yer ears boy”. Severen winked and nudged the panel further, widening the beam and driving Jesse further into the corner of the shack, fully cut off from crossing.

Severen sidled out, his skin immediately sizzling, near throwing him backward as he winced in agony. A low, continuous moan escaped him as he stood full in the light. His linen shirt and trousers beginning to smolder, the only parts of his attire not singeing were his leather vest and boots. It was hard to move for the intolerable torment, but he managed to stand in place, feeling his skin blistering, boiling, burning away, desperately trying to repair itself, but unable to fuse before another layer is seared into cinders. He can feel flames bursting up, his perseverance waning, it has been minutes, it feels like hours. Finally, he stumbles back into safety, just able to jerk the board in place to cover them in cool darkness.

“Satisfied your curiosity?” Jesse asks, the disks of his eyes glowing over the faint orange tip of a cigarette. A weary, atonal sound emerges from a raw throat, it gradually resolves into something similar to an affirmation.

“Hope that was a good enough education”. A puff of grey smoke whirled around his gaunt face. There is another muffled moan as the miserable creature rolls over onto his back, smoking a bit himself.

“A’ight”, he hoarsely croaks, “I catch yer point”. Jesse just nods in the dark, cigarette flaring.

“But”, Severen rolls his recovering face to stare at his mentor, his creator, “is it always like that?” For the second time this morning the elder of the two is stunned to silence. Severen reiterates the question, “Ever worse some days, some kinda conditions?”

“How many got’dam times I gotta tell you greenhorn, I don’t seem to have the same interest in a pine box like you do”. For some reason Severen took this as a compliment, his white smile visible in his charred face. He was starting to feel better, energy returning, his skin starting to appear normal, although still blackened.

“Jus’ wanted to know if there’s any particulars, y’know in case we did have business in the daytime”.

“Ain’t no daytime business to be had. Now quit this nonsense and fuckin’ sleep so I can have some peace”. There were no complaints from the cowboy about getting some shut eye after the self inflicted ordeal; he crawled into the opposite corner and dropped to the dirt in a heap.

Out quicker than a snuffed candle. Jesse stared at him wondering what sort of a reckless, brainless nippent he’d hired on— while at the same time admiring the fact that he’d braved their greatest danger with casual ease and clear success.

“One crazy bastard” Jesse murmured, dropping the tiny remainder of his cigarette to the dirt floor and grinding it out with his thumb. “Crazy fucking bastard” Jesse repeated, crossing one arm over the other, head leaning back, the susurrus of Severen’s snores guiding him back to sleep.

[noodles-and-tea]

[jellllllo-bowl]

gotham rainy nights

i firmly believe in Duke doing silly things with his power

hiding under your dad's cape when it's pouring outside can be something very special + bat-rain-poncho, several years later

[eydilily]

(look at what i have to offer) — this is the spider's nest.

[aniisol]

mumbo thinks he could beat most the irl hermits in a fistfight. okay. let's see. welcome back, my name is grian and today we're all gathered here to kick off a brand new life series in the middle of this actual forest

[wolfythewitch]

Henry Clerval and the creature

[demonicsuffrage]

The justice league sees Batman periodically updating a database of his, at the oddest of times, and naturally they think it's got something to do with his contingency plans or a dataset about the Gotham rogues, but in reality it's just him keeping record of his many children's changing tastes

Superman: Woah, he's writing down with such concentration, wonder what could be in there, maybe a new villain in Gotham?

Bruce, writing: "Dick has refused his favourite Pb&J five mornings in a row. Delete from favourites. Ask for new favourite food."

"Jason didn't seem as Eager to read the new book by his favourite author, put it in neutral category."

"Tim chose a green shirt instead of a red one at the mall today. More research needed."

"Cass listened to arctic monkeys on repeat this week. Update to favourites."

"Duke expressed an interest in slam poetry and called band practice lame. Put poetry in favourites and band in neutral."

"Damian watched Bluey for a total of 50 hours this week. Update to favourites."

[applecidersstuff]

Percy Jackson is against bullying.

He is however very sad that neither Annabeth, Clarrise or Drew had met Octavian in camp Jupiter, because as much as he frowns on it he would pay any kind of money to see those three tear him a new one for acting like a little bitch he is.

[spocks-husband]

In Bruce's phone, he keeps the contact photos for all his kids as their baby pictures (or the closest approximation that he has).

Dick's is a photo of him when he'd first designed his Robin costumes, smiling ear to ear as he proudly showed off his first hand-sewn prototype.

Jason's is a picture Alfred got of the boy sitting on Bruce's shoulders while they went over a case.

Tim is him fast asleep in the middle of taking notes on his first real mission (he wanted to impress Bruce really bad).

Damian is a polaroid he got from Talia of him when he was about a year old, teething on a mango seed as he sat on the floor of his mother's room.

Cass is entirely blacked out except for her big bright eyes that can be seen in the darkness-- Bruce thinks it's the cutest photo ever.

Even Babs has hers set to a photo of her with her first computer, grinning happy as she probably hacked into a federal database somewhere. He got that photo from Jim.

Likewise, of course, Alfred's (very bareboned) smartphone that he barely uses has Bruce's contact set with a photo of him playing in the snow as a little boy.

[beebfreeb]

[stankycowboy]

HC for v. beast of old:

Medieval/Fantasy verse Severen is a version of him from the 1400’s (if set in real earth time periods). It uses a more classic vampire creation angle (although I am still highly limiting his “powers” because I think it is more fun).

There is an important note that this version of him sees him completely alone for nearly all his life (at least after turning). He has made no important long term relationships. No family pack, no lasting lovers, he has been a solitary and violent hunter for centuries. This has made him nearly rabid and almost entirely inhuman without forceful repression of his natural instincts.

He interacts with humanity only to feed on them (sometimes playing with his food) and actively hunts other supernatural/preternatural beings. This is not an elder vampire who has a nice villa and expensive taste. He is an old, depraved creature who lives in the darkest shadows of his prey. Does he have ways of getting the things he may need? Yes. But his needs are few and gladly stolen rather than gained through normal means.

He is the sort of rabid thing one seeks to put down rather than befriend. If you were worried about getting too close to canon Severen, this version is even worse. Everything is worthy sustenance, kinship is a means to an end, friendships are only as good as they are entertaining. All things that apply to modern Severen, but with an additional several hundred years and isolation, he is intensely more chaotic and brutal.

[wojtekaneko]

well that was awkward

[thief-of-eggs]

Headcannon that due to diligently monitoring the Wayne family’s media image, Alfred is chronically online, and as such, is constantly dropping slang into conversation like-

(Over the coms)

Batman: Alfred, what’s the update on the Arkham situation?

Alfred: *Ahem* Unfortunately sir, it is as they say- ‘we’re cooked’

Collective groans from Tim, Dick, and Jason over the coms

Batman: …Huh?

Jason: *muttering* I knew I should’ve stayed outa this one…

Damian: I don’t understand, what are we cooking?

Alfred: It’s giving ‘failure era’, sir-

Dick: Damn it!

Tim: We really are cooked

Damian: What does that -?

Alfred: It’s lowkey not-

Batman: In English Alfred. Please.

Alfred: *Sigh* My apologies, sir. The Joker has escaped.

[m3djed]

"he would not fucking say that" but you ever be looking at fanart and suddenly its "he would not fucking have abs"