#An Act of Murder

[crowatyourwindow]

Do you think it would have been cool if Atsushi's white tiger aged with him as he grew up

[tuttle-did-it]

You know, it's genuinely sad to me that aging favourite character actors no longer have any fun murder-mystery tv shows to guest-star as murders on.

[glow-worms-are-believers]

Witness Protection

There’s a dead guy in the alley and it’s not Danny. 

Ok, technically there are two dead guys in the alley but honestly, Danny feels like they’re way past semantics.

Because, once again, there is a dead man in the alley. 

Danny is fairly sure the guy’s been murdered. The bloody mess that is the guy's chest is a pretty good indicator, but the bloody knife that's still stuck in the guy’s guts is really what makes it for the teen.

Danny might be freaking out a little bit. Because, while he is used to dead people, they’re never this newly deceased, or for that matter, this gruesomely murdered.

Before his breath can quicken too much, Danny makes himself take a deep breath. 

Say what you want about Danny, but he hasn’t spent his high-school career moonlighting as a teenage vigilante without learning a thing or two about staving off a panic attack. Feeling more calm, Danny focuses back on the issue at hand.

I should call the police, says something in the back of his head that sounds like Jazz.

If I call in the murder I’ll be on the suspect list, retorts some other part of his brain he’s choosing to call the Sam part.

No advice from an imaginary Tuck though. Even in his own mind he can’t imagine a Tucker that hasn’t already passed out cold at the sight of a dead guy. 

Which, fair. Danny is kinda considering the option, as he’s feeling a little faint himself. It is way past time he got out of here. At least he's figured out just how to do it.

Anonymous tips are a wonderful thing, made all the more wonderful by the presence of payphones in Gotham.Danny is officially handing this off to the proper authorities.

Boy is he glad he doesn’t have to be involved anymore.

A few streets over, a hooded figure rounds a corner, their breath coming fast  as they clench their bloody fists agitadely. There wasn’t supposed to be anyone there, and yet. This is an unexpected setback.

The hooded figure leans back against the alley wall to catch their breath. Nothing to do about it but fix it. And as these things go, this is an easy mistake to fix. The face of the black-haired blue-eyed hurdle floats to the front of their mind. 

It should be child’s play.

[biscuit-boy-n]

Nuzi request from a patron :>

[bloominglegumes]

this fic has been eating away at me. its so delightful and well-written and ive reread it so many times now and each time it just gets funnier and my scribbles here dont make sense on their own or even cover half of the great moments in it so go read it

[lygma-nygma]

Being a batfam fan is funny because people will make a post like “here’s my headcanon-“ and it’s just something that’s directly canon to the story then post about major canon events and get everything wrong.

[eveledoze]

I need to know what you were like

[rainybasementthing]

Danny is rotting

Not that he notices. His body absorbs ectoplasm from the portal, with the ectoplasm preserving it. Each time he leaves his body, it absorbs more. No one, not even Danny has realized.

His parents find out after they see him leave his body behind to fight a ghost and promptly dips, flying off in panic with his body. He heads to one place with... definitely smaller amounts of ectoplasm, but enough to possibly survive.

Gotham.

Danny, in a rush, didn't have time to pick up the backpack meant for this scenario. He (thankfully) had some ectoplasm in his thermos, but it's not nearly enough long-term.

After running out of ectoplasm for a few days, Danny starts to feel off.

Danny's skin feels tight. His body is a lot stiffer than he recalls, and he can't seem to get rid of this awful smell on him. His face and hands are slowly discoloring, fuck, what the hell is going on?

His emotions and core are going haywire from the disapproval of his parents, perceiving anyone as a threat.

He temporarily haunts an alleyway, refusing and growling at anyone who enters his haunt. His eyes flash with that sickening green color. He can't afford to get hurt with the limited ectoplasm he has.

.

Unfortunately for Danny, it was the alleyway where the Waynes were murdered.

And the Bats are protective of it too.

[sillykiu]

how much aura do i gain (or lose) for being in these fandoms

[livelovecaliforniadreams]

[solroskajan]

I will finish this when I have time, which is not now, but I'm posting the sketch anyway because omg I knew I HAD to draw this scene as soon as I saw it! (Murder Drones: Intermission by @ghoulinfuschia and her team, please go watch it if you haven't already it's awesome!!)

I was so excited for this fan episode but I didn't expect V would have such a large role in it I love it I love it I love it!!!

[saturdaysky]

you lose sight of it, somehow, when you consort with gods: how fragile mortals are, and how precious.

[gale of waterdeep & my pc, mayhew of nowhere in particular]

[macbcth]

what your favourite dunmeshi ship says about you

farcille: you're classic, you make sense, you like to see the lesbians winning and also you're a bit of a monster fucker: you may or may not specifically have a wing kink

chilshi: you like your men hairy and fat, also you are not immune to panty-shot propaganda, your love language is acts of service

chilaios: you have a size kink

labru: you prefer mlm ships over any other pairing, you think character foils should fuck, you may be a sucker for blue eyes

laimar: your favourite trope is friends to lovers, also you like to see the bisexuals winning, you're also.. what the poets might call.... weird

marchil: your favourite trope is enemies to lovers, your love language is banter, and you're the kind of person who says 'i can fix him' far too often

kabumisu: your ship could burn down the world and violate the geneva convention and you would still call both of them babygirl, also you like angst

laios x monsters: you like tentacle porn

[izzystizzys]

TW: discussion of something approximating suicidal tendencies but with the usual crack programming of this blog

“Ah, High General Windu”, says Fox, pleasantly. “So we meet again.”

High General Windu raises an unimpressed eyebrow at him, Fox thinks, though it’s getting hard to tell with all the blood rushing to his head. “If I let you go, will you try to throw yourself out of another window?”

Fox makes a vague shrugging motion - or tries to, anyways. It’s hard to tell where any of his limbs are going, hanging upside down in the air as he is. “I am willing to discuss terms.” A bridge will do just fine.

Impossibly, the High General’s eyebrows climb even further up his forehead. “A compromise, then, esteemed Commander.” And so, he righths Fox the head way up in the air, but leaves him floating just above the ground, at which point several painted shells come skidding around the corner followed by billowing robes and screeches.

“WHAT”, says Kote, calmly, “THE BANTHA-KARKED, FORCE-LOVING KRIFF, FOX.”

“You’ll short out your helmet mic”, Fox advises him, sagely. Fondly, he thinks back to decimating his own on only his second time in the newly-christened official Coruscant Guard Scream Closet. He’d just received the comm about the Zillo Beast being transported to 000, and made sure to take his bucket off thereafter to improve the quality of his closet time.

High General Windu’s face does something complicated between sympathy and constipation.

Because the Galaxy doesn’t hate Fox enough already and Cody wasn’t enough on his own, Wolffe elbows his way through their batch to plant himself in front of him, shoulders squared and shaking with repressed rage. “If you try that again, dickhead”, he begins, in a low growl that quite frankly sounds more cringe that intimidating, “I’m going to resurrect you and then kill you again.”

“Ah, Wolffe”, Plo Koon says, in his deep, shivery timbre, “Remember our conversations about effective conflict resolution and communication of needs?”

Wolffe’s eyes narrow at Fox, because all non-Guard are sweet summer children who walk around buckets off on 000 like absolute lunatics. Fox prays they never have to find out why that’s a bad idea. “I feel”, his ori’vod presses out between clenched teeth, “that if you make me watch you throw yourself out of another window, I’m going to jump after you and strangle you on the way down, you little bitch.”

“That’s fair”, says Fox, and watches High General Kenobi bury his face in his hands. Wolffe twitches in place and makes an aborted groaning noise, the hypocrite.

“Excuse me, High Marshall Commander Fox, but I fail to see what’s so dire about this situation that the Jedi High Council and your brothers cannot help you solve”, says Windu, the only sane one left on this Force-forsaken bloated corpse of a planet. Behind the gaggle of Jedi and ori’vode already gathered in front of Fox, the rest of them come veering around the corner in a commotion that’s quite frankly embarrassing. High General Yoda is mounted on Skywalker’s back like he’s a race-Eopie, which is Fox’ only consolation.

He got up this morning at 0300, bleary-eyed and with a pounding headache as always, and all was right in the world. And then Fox got called into the Jedi High Council’s chambers and was ceremoniously informed that in the wake of Chancellor Palpatine’s unfortunate demise (hah), and through the emergency state of the Senate, as well as several invented promotions foisted on Fox to make the delegation of any and all paperwork less shady, he was now next in the chain of command and-

Well, Fox is the acting Chancellor, in short.

Haha, he had said, and been meet with several seconds of silence, until it got both awkward and exceedingly painful. Wait, he’d said. You’re kriffing serious.

Kriffing serious, we are, had said High General Yoda, and thus Fox launched himself out the first best window with a maniacal cackle of, you’ll have to catch me first!

And catch him, High General Windu sure did.

“The will of the Force this is”, Yoda interrupts Fox’ train of thought. He scans him thoughtfully from beneath his wizened brow, and hems to himself. “Shake things up, this will. Determine the fate of the Galaxy, this shall. A feeling, I have, that a good Chancellor you will make. A better one, hmmm.”

“That’d be high praise, if not for the fact that a dead lemming would make for a better Chancellor than the last one”, says Fox, drawing and indignant gasp from Skywalker. He doesn’t bother with either that or the green goblin’s cackle, lost in the deep sense of resignation that settles over his shoulders like a suffocating blanket.

“Alright, then, get me Thorn on the comm. As my first act in office, I’m firing all the Jedi. No offense, but you’re kind of a disaster. Then, someone get me to the Chancellor’s office, I’m calling Dooku to let him know the war’s off. And please get me Judicial, they’ll be up all night working on my datafolders - I’m having the Senate arrested.”

“Who - is - arresting - “, Bly pants, hands on his knees from where he’s just come sprinting around the corner with his Jedi.

Underneath his bucket, Fox smiles a smile that’s all teeth. “The Senate”, he says, sweetly, wondering if he’s just imagined the shiver that’s gone through the room. “I’m suing the Senate, and taking them all into temporary custody for abuse of sentient rights.”

[thats-a-mood-gabriella]

Blitz really can't stand knowing he hurt someone he cares about. I'm not just talking about the fire, either.

We all know that he immediately tried to apologize once he realized he'd genuinely hurt Stolas at the end of Full Moon, though he was portaled out before he could finish the words.

But even in Truth Seekers, when the truth serum caused him to tell Moxxie he had shitty taste in music, he IMMEDIATELY apologized, like as soon as the words were out of his mouth, and even started CRYING while lamenting about having hurt Moxxie and lied to him a lot.

Idk I just think it's important to point out that underneath all the trauma, Blitz is a big ole softy who can't stand knowing he's hurt the feelings of people he cares about.

[picklepie888]

Michael Kovach is the John Ratzenberger of indie animation.