#🦇 :: Other

[fernsnailz]

cleaning out the files, sonic sketch edition

[the-batblog]

This is probably a hot take but I don't think anybody actually cares who Batman is outside of the GCPD and conspiracy theorists.

When Batman first shows up he's a friggen poltergeist. He's a cryptid. For a second there maybe people thought he was just a creepypasta.

Then when people start to think… actually it kinda seems like he's a guy…? Like, he's a real…? Person…???

Then the GCPD is like, 'Okay, well, then he's breaking laws.'

But your average schmo is like, 'And? Yeah he's a guy; he gave me fifty bucks to get home last night. Right after he saved me from an acid piranha pit.'

But the thing is, Bats has his own personality. He's a whole person as the mask. People don't ask who Superman's secret identity is because, as far as they're concerned, Superman is just Superman, and when they can't see him, it's because he went home. It would be the same with Batman. They probably think he sleeps or hangs upside-down all day.

I think Gothamites like him as Just Batman; he's the city's pet monster, and they like it that way.

I think we get super caught up in the, "Batman's secret identity might be revealed! 😱" because Batman's secret identity is famous. But if someone unmasked Clark or Barry or Hal it would be like

"…I have no idea who this is."

And they expect the same of Batman.

GCPD wants to know so they can arrest him, conspiracy theorists want to know because they wanna know where he fits into the machine, gossip columnists want to know so they can get catch some drama, and real-person fanfic authors wanna know so they can accurately describe him when he takes his mask off to kiss Bruce Wayne.

[buntress]

🏳️‍⚧️ Queer Stars :: Gender Time 🏳️‍⚧️

-------------------------------------------------------------

Trans // Nonbinary // Xenogender Transfem // Transmasc // Transneutro Agender // Genderfluid Intersex

-------------------------------------------------------------

Sexuality [link]

F2U w/ credit <3

[bizarrescribblez]

HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY FROM ME AND MY 8 DUMB DUMBS!!! 🩷❤️🩷❤️🩷❤️🩷❤️🩷❤️🩷

Figured it was finally time for me to do a redraw of the sonic + army of amys picture, even though I’m super late to it!! 😵‍💫 AND WHAT BETTER TIME TO DO IT THAN ON THE DAY OF LOVE!! Nothing says love like getting attention from your boys hehehe >u< ~ 💜

[roseworth]

this is such a small thing but it bothers me just a bit when people say anything about batman forcing the robins to go on patrol (like them wanting to take a night off but he makes them come anyway) bc that just doesnt make sense to me at all. first of all every robin could be seconds from death and they would go "just give me 5 minutes batman i can still come with you tonight :)" and second of all because if any of them even vaguely alluded to the fact that they didnt want to go bruce would say something like "you shouldnt be protecting gotham if you're not willing to give it your full attention. you have to put complete focus into the mission and if you cant do that then you shouldnt come"

[textpostmemespksp]

Meme #656. Happy birthday Silver!!🎉

(Image description in ALT text, original images and shirt photo below the cut!) 

I forgot what day I made that drawing on but I think it was somewhere in September or October of 2024.

[z-shalltear]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY MOFF 💜💜💜💜

i was gonna do a more self insert-y doodle but i forgor ANYWAYSSSS TY SAI FOR MAKING THIS CHARACTER PLS DONT LET THEM DIE/silly i came out of my hiatus for this lmao

@14dayswithyou

extra:

dummy simp ramblings: I think when I first joined the fandom i was a big redacted simp but after exploring the game and tumblr i fell in love with moth 💜💜 I find their character so enjoyable and we have a bunch in common 😭💕💕💕 I love digging into their lore and finding bits of random info about them. I genuinely get so giddy when they appear in game its embarrassing.

[luzxii-selfship]

﹒🍃﹒selfship game 04﹒

status : closed for now !

reblog a picture of your f/o and I will assign them a gemstone! here's an example with my newest pookie ^^

gem : orange zircon

[vampiremotif]

harrow the ninth tamsyn muir / her body and other parties carmen maria machado / mabel podcast / tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow gabrielle zevin / harrow the ninth tamsyn muir / much ado about nothing william shakespeare

[honey-minded-hivemind]

This but the Readers

Isekaied Reader: Smile amd wave, guys, smile and wave~!

Bat Mutant Reader: Can we blow them up instead?

Cave Bear Creed Reader: OooO, fireworks!

Sentinel Reader: BEEP!

The X-Men, Brotherhood, and Acolytes: WHO THE F*CK GAVE THEM EXPLOSIVES?!?!?!

[writeshite]

Nothing Do Us Part

Summary:

The bastard smiled at you before picking the lock and forgoing any caution. “You shouldn’t be here,” You argue weakly. Astarion huffed, the cell door now wide open; you had yet to reach out in any manner, “Neither should you,” he counterargued, “you’re filthy, bloody and thin as a rake.” He took the first step and grabbed at your hand, staring disappointedly at the cuts and bruises lining your skin. “I’m taking you home to Hells with the Harpers and whoever else thinks they can take you from me.”

Pairings:

Astarion x Male!Reader

Tags:

Long-Haired Astarion | Bhaalspawn Reader | Ascended Astarion |

Words: 1828

Author's Note:

Guess who's not dead lmfao (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ:･ﾟ✧ I found out there's a Bhaalspawn ending where they turn themselves in, and I was like, Ascended Astarion would not be happy about that.

The spawn came at first light, walking into Crimson Draughts with a curt smile; the curly mop of white that Araj had once hopped to brush her cheek whilst her life danced on the edge was now long curled trusses of hair reaching past his shoulders to his mid-back. “I need you to find someone.” His words went in one ear and out the other as Araj examined him; he was different from when she’d first set eyes on him and his intriguing companion in Moonrise.

“I’m surprised to see you alive, spawn,” she remarks. “I’d thought you dead in Moonrise.”

“Oh, hardly,” he laughs, “but I’m not here to discuss past adventures. As I said, I need you to find someone.”

“I heard you the first time, and I’m not a bloodhound,” she corrected.

“Hence my request, an expert of the sanguine arts, I believe is what you called yourself,” he fished a vial from his pockets, “I will reimburse you in as much gold and whatever equipment you require, as long as you find who I’m looking for and place an unerasable tether on said person. Understood?”

“Whose blood is it?” 

“Hardly any of your concern, is it? Now, will you take the job, or shall I pursue Sorcerers Sundries to find someone more willing to take my commission?” 

Araj huffed, “My, my, aren't we touchy? I’ll take your commission.”

The blood was intriguing. It radiated malice and murderous intent—as odd of observation as that was—the red would bloom darker colours before shifting back to red, and the odour was equally as odd, smelling too much like blood, a sharp, strong iron that piqued her interest. A godling’s blood? An Aasimar, perhaps? Though Araj wasn’t certain if such creatures bled, regardless, she had no doubt the spawn had brought her the blood of someone divine; whether said person was of the holy or unholy persuasion, she remained uncertain.

The Upper City was abuzz when Astarion returned; artisans, sages, pole-carters, and all manner of people traversed the streets of the Upper City. Astarion weaved through the crowd to his home in Manorborn, Ancunín Castle—his haven of estates he’d parted from a few patriar families—he’d spent quite some time hunting down artificers to add to his horde of spawn; he'd set them to work and rebuilt the castle from the grounds up to better suit his needs.

“Welcome home, Master Astarion,” Harette greeted him, a small bow accompanying her words; she took Astarion’s coat and folded it away as she caught him up on the morning’s events, “The artificers finished installing the sun-sift glass over the courtyards and atriums, and have begun casting warding glyphs per your instructions. The dungeons have been refurbished for the Rillyn’s children's stay, and you’ve a new bundle of invitations from other patriar families arrive this morning.” She finishes her morning catch-up as they reach his study.

“Thank you, Harette,” Astarion sat at his desk, dismissing her; he sifted through the invitations on his desk—Belt, Hullhollyn, Tillerturn—letters to their parties, brunches, and whatever else Astarion read through. He replies to them, declining their invitations with kind apologies and half-felt promises to join the next festivity; far more pressing matters needed Astarion’s attention. The Fist and Harpers had done a better job than expected covering their tracks whenever they moved you, but Astarion had come close a few times before, hence the need for the Drow, much to his displeasure. He may have been impervious to sunlight now, but the harpers had enlisted the help of Lathandernites and Selûnites, and Astarion wasn’t going to chance his resistance to sunlight, much less holy light. Astarion had been greatly against you turning yourself in; the stubborn persistence he’d usually find adorable became annoying, “If you’re worried about rampaging, you shouldn’t. I can keep you in line; I’ve done it before.”

“I wasn’t Bhaal’s Chosen then, just his progeny,” you’d corrected him, “I barely managed to hold myself back from harming you in the Shadow-Cursed Lands; I can’t—”

“I’m not some runaway spawn anymore; I’m a Vampire Ascendant.” Astarion had corrected bitterly, but despite his reassurances, he hadn’t been able to deter you from the decision, but it didn’t deter him. Some coin in the right purse and spawn or two in the right place, and he could visit you whenever he pleased, “You should leave.” You’d clung to him regardless of the venom in your words, desperate for some semblance of comfort; your initial prison had been some small nook under Wyrm's Rock Fortress, illuminated by torch and what bioluminescent fungi managed to break ground.

“I told you, pet,” he’d dug his nails in your back, later carving his name along your spine “lovers forever.” He absentmindedly traced the gauntlet you’d torn from Gortash’s body and had modified for Astarion, “I’m not sure if I should be honoured or revolted in some manner,” he’d joked then, yet the gauntlet still held its powerful magic and had been a constant presence on Astarion.

“I don’t remember much; I think I tore this from some patriar’s arm or stole it from a wizard before giving it to Gortash, I don’t know. What I do know is that I love you more than anything.”

“I’m meant to be a fearful Vampire,” he’d huffed, softening for a moment, “you make it quite hard to do so, pet.” Even as Bhaal’s murderous lunacy consumed your mind, a minuscule part of rationality remained, just enough to leave Astarion unharmed during his visits; the same could not be said about the Harpers tasked with guarding you. Astarion’s last visit was met with an empty prison and no Harpers in sight. Clever bastards had a headstart; he was almost offended by how well they predicted him following after them, but not surprised as Jaheira and Minsc had involved themselves in your transfer elsewhere before their expertise and skill were requested outside Baldur’s Gate.

The Drow asks for quite a hefty sum and a new plethora of equipment to complete her work, but she does manage, creating a tether as he’d requested; Astarion pays her for her service and prays he never needs it again. The tether leads to Myth Drannor, in the Dalelands, south of the River Tesh and some distance from Shadowdale; Astarion sneaks himself under the guise of a Harper, replacing the one he’d fed on some time prior, while he may have found where you were he now needed to find where specifically in Myth Drannor you were.

Everything was bloody. The floors of your cell were smeared in blood and dirt; the effigy you’d built yielded no response from your father. Nothing did. Pleading, crying, screaming, and tearing at your meat suit did nothing but elicit silence from the Lord of Murder. Your breaths were rugged and short, coming in quick succession as you fought to keep yourself in control of your person; Bhaal’s silence drove your mind to wander, to sing for blood; you shook your head and screamed, whacking the piled rats and punching the nearest wall. You repeated the action until you felt less like clawing at your meat suit.

You were quick to notice the pale elf approaching your cell, and you shook your head as your eyes widened when you recognised Astarion. The bastard smiled at you before picking the lock and forgoing any caution. “You shouldn’t be here,” You argue weakly.

Astarion huffed, the cell door now wide open; you had yet to reach out in any manner, “Neither should you,” he counterargued, “you’re filthy, bloody and thin as a rake.” He took the first step and grabbed at your hand, staring disappointedly at the cuts and bruises lining your skin. “I’m taking you home to Hells with the Harpers and whoever else thinks they can take you from me.” 

“How did you find me?” You stared at him desperately, holding his hand for dear life. 

“That drow we met at Moonrise has her uses,” he responds, tugging at your arm, “we can catch up when we’re far from here.” 

You followed without resistance, shuffling along the dark narrow corridors, it was luck that you didn’t bump into anyone on your way out, or the journey back to Baldurs Gate. It’s another miracle Astarion sneaks you through to the Upper City without spilling any blood. He led you to a large set of manors lumped under one estate by the looks of the courtyard, a handful of people moved about tending to said courtyard—sweeping, trimming the hedges, polishing the statuettes, and cleaning the fountains.

“Nice home,” you commented.

“Thank you, pet,” the elf is cheerfully proud of his home. The servants stop in their work when they spot Astarion, and all bow, returning to their work respectively once the elf walks past them. The interior is as lavish as the exterior—a richly coloured rug drew a path along the floor; at each side, paintings and columns alternated along the walls as chandeliers lined the ceiling above. More servants are also busy at work here; they bow the same as the ones outside and only continue their work once Astarion has passed them. 

The servants give you uncertain glances, confusion and fear in their expressions. “Ignore them pet; they should know better,” Astarion hissed, and their gazes darted away.

“Are they spawn?” you inquire.

“Most,” he shrugged in response, leading you through the halls to a room devoid of anyone else close by. His room, no doubt. “Some outsiders from the Outer City looking for a new life.” He led you to a tub and ran it with water and just about every perfume and soap he had at his disposal and all but begs you to step into the tub. It takes five cases of andanthe and shampoo to clean your hair thoroughly and two pitchers of a strong-scented liquid wash soap to wash out the dirt from the skin. Astarion picks up the skin and food between your teeth and shoves a whole stick of tooth powder down your throat.

“Is this necessary?” you cough at the strong, minty taste as the tooth powder turns to foam in reaction with saliva.

“If you want my cock and tongue down your throat,” Astarion scrubbed your second set of canines, “then yes.”

The water is dirty brownish-red when you step out of the tub; it’s strange to be without grime after so long, you look at yourself in the mirror. Despite everything, it was still you. 

Astarion draped a fluffy towel over your shoulders, “Tomorrow, we’ll get a tailor and cobbler in here for you.”

“You want to doll me up?” you snort. 

Astarion rolled his eyes, “You need to blend in,” he lightly chastised, “and I have an appearance standard to adhere to.” He huffed, drawing a chuckle from you. “After the tailor and cobbler, we’ll take care of your hair.”

“Hmm,” you nod as he dried off your body. “Whatever you say, starlight.”

End Note:

This started off as a Drabble but then we ended up here with another AU 🤪💀. The way I had to go look at a map of Baldurs Gate and was reminded how shit I am at reading maps lmfao 😭 I have read the Forgotten Realms wiki on so much for this fic. Stay Hydrated.

[tordsguns]

Imagine the rain pattered gently against the window, filling the room with a soft, rhythmic melody. You were curled up on the couch, wrapped in a fluffy blanket, a warm cup of hot chocolate in your hands. The rich aroma of cocoa and marshmallows filled the air, mixing with the scent of rain-soaked earth from outside.

Your f/o sat beside you, one arm draped over the back of the couch, close but not quite touching. They had been reading a book, but every now and then, you could feel their gaze drifting toward you.

“You’re warm,” they murmured, suddenly shifting so their head rested on your shoulder. You felt your heart skip a beat as they let out a quiet sigh, completely at ease.

A flash of lightning flickered outside, followed by a distant rumble of thunder. You flinched and instinctively scooted just a little closer. Your f/o smirked, their voice tinged with amusement.

“Scared of thunder?” they teased softly. “No,” you mumbled, though your grip on your cup tightened slightly.

They chuckled, adjusting so that they could pull the blanket over both of you. Their warmth was comforting, and you could feel the steady rhythm of their breathing as they settled in. “Then stay close anyway,” they said, their voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t mind.”

You could feel the heat rising to your cheeks, but you didn’t argue. Instead, you leaned into them just a little more, listening to the rain outside.

[needleanddead]

two frilly girls in frilly nightwear what secrets are they hiding (murder and medical malpractice and patricide and stalking and such, just girly things)

(day one for oc kiss week! the beautiful kalani does as ever belong to @hurrl !)

[buntress]

🌈 Queer Stars :: The Basics 🌈

-------------------------------------------------------------

Flags in order Top Left to Bottom Right ::

LGBTQIA+ // Gay // Lesbian Asexual // Aromantic // Aroace Bisexual // Pansexual // Queer

-------------------------------------------------------------

Genders [link]

F2U w/ credit <3

[bizarrescribblez]

It was that time of the month several days ago and I barely drew this the day after it ended.. oh well Frank had a fun time so ❤️

Based on this tweet except I did it in reverse ehhehe:

[royallaufeyson]

I miss my s/o so bad, I've been crying for the past hour. I wanna rip my heart out.