#GIVE THAT MAN A MOHAWK

[jesterjaxx]

Everytime Duncan gets drawn with a sad frat boy haircut like this

an angel looses their wings

[tomboxed]

mk1 oc outfits :3

and then also invasions skins because why not

[scatterpatter]

More QuickCut brainrot (WITH A BONUS BOMBMAN) because I can NOT be stopped

[nerosdayinanime]

"Im worried what people would think of you then, that you're just a personal whore or something- i don't want to ruin your reputation.."

"Are you kidding? 'My dick was so good i got promoted-' Thats the biggest flex i can think of!"

"Well, you're certaintly enthusiastic about this."

[helluvabutt]

Trying to imitate the shows art style for comics has me feeling like I don't know how to draw, so I decided to try and figure them out in my usual style.

I couldn't commit to a full human disguise though because I crave their more demonic aspects.

[dashflashy-arts]

Did what I do best: Gijinkas!

Rev and Danger got to look human but that's bc I haven't figured out how to implement bird features on the face yet

[fangirlforeversthings]

The goat, the King, the man,

Teldryn sero

[sunni-stuff]

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Reader who gets pregnant off of a one night stand with some soldier during armed forces day, showing your appreciation for his service a little too well.

You had a support system, friends who joked about you having way too much fun, hence your predicament, others already offering to buy things for the baby and your parents who couldn't be happier to meet their grandchild.

But what about the father?

Well, it's not exactly like you could track him down. Fuck, you didn't even know the man's name, only how he made you feel, his filthy words strumming in your ear, big hands tight around your waist, hips slamming away in a desperate chase.

Let's forget how you leg-locked him.

When your daughter was born, everything changed, and time slowed down. She was a quiet baby, barely crying or having any outbursts like a normal child would but outspoken in her own little way. That chunky thing came out of the womb with a glare. Brown eyes staring down anyone and everyone but you.

That's something she definitely got from her father. You vividly remember how his umber eyes watching you from across the bar. He was like an eagle waiting for the perfect moment to strike his prey. A perfect soldier.

So, you named your daughter Adira in memory of his strength. That's one thing he could have.

Adira loved to be by your side. Her chubby cheeks pressed into the nook of your neck, holding you close with strength of a thousand babies. Your clingy little thing was a koala, always by her mommy's side, never straying far no matter how curious she got. When she learned to walk, her favorite thing became to hug your leg, especially while in stores. She hated people, wearing a tiny scowl whenever customers passed by tucking herself closer to you.

Maybe it was a good thing her father wasn't around. Having to compete for her first words would've been a bloodbath.

You spent two years in bliss. The fact that you were a single mother an afterthought to raising what you considered a blessing.

With Adira's second Christmas coming up, you wanted to do something special. She loved trains and found them absolutely amusing, often mimicking the honk as she ran around your apartment. Thankfully, there was a train ride for kids around the park during this time of year.

Here, you stood in line, bundled up to the nines. Big poofy coat, warm gloves, and fuzzy boots. As the crowd moved, Adira clung close, arms wrapped around your leg, glowering at any passerby with an annoyed look on her rosy cheeks.

That one was new. Maybe something else she got from her father.

The two of you took steps in tow, keeping Adira close and comfortable as the train came into view. Her expression shifted, excitement palpable. "Twain!" She squealed, jumping up and down.

Before you could respond to Adira's childlike joy, a man bumped into you by accident, nearly stumbling over his own feet. He turns to look at you, blue eyes meeting yours, but you were too focused on the weird ass Mohawk on his head.

People wore still those?

"Sorry bout that lass." The man starts to apologize, a Scottish accent lacing his voice.

That breaks your stare, laughing awkwardly to mask your wandering gaze. "Oh no, it's fine. You should be careful. you might slip on ice."

He nods, giving you a kind smile. The Scottish man starts to leave, but the look your kid was giving him sent shivers down his spine.

Little Adira was giving him a fierce stare down from behind your leg before ultimately cutting her eyes at him as if he were merely a nuisance.

"Next in line! Mctavish!"

The man doesn't stay after that. You assume that it was him they were calling with the way he hurried off. Hope he doesn't fall, seemed like a nice guy.

Soap can't help but do a double take when be gets to the front. The little rascal was wearing his Lieutenants face, hawk eyeing anyone who dared got to close. It was like looking in a mirror.

He nudged Gaz, making a gesture to look back without making it obvious. "See the lass and her bairn in line?"

Gaz gives him a raised brow, looking back for a second before turning around. "There's a lot of kids with their mother's, Johnny."

Soap glances back, double checking to make sure you were still in line. “The lass with the wee one—she’s got the same wicked look as Lt. You cannae miss her.”

Gaz rolls his eyes but humors Soap by looking once more, his eyes scanning the crowd until they land on a little girl already mean-mugging him from a distance. He swiftly turns around, blinking in surprise, trying to comprehend what he saw. "Uh..."

Soap only nods in agreement. That was Ghost's face, on a kid no less. He wastes no time, elbowing Roach and getting him to look back as well, leaving the other Sergeant in the same shock as Gaz. "That is not a face a kid should have."

"Agreed." Gaz added, shuddering at the thought.

"Where's the cap?" Soap asks, the train ride no longer feeling like fun now that he’s discovered the jackpot.

"Market place with Lt. for cigs," Gaz knowingly remarked, remembering that Price had run out on their way here.

"Well, let's go show them a Christmas miracle," Soap shot up from his seat all too eagerly.

The sergeants just got their Christmas present.

[wittyworm]

haircut yesterday!!

he says hes already feeling a lot better 💇‍♂️✌️

Forgot to post this on friday but we were able to get him a room for a week!! Shorty wanted to thank everyone.

We are still both so amazed at the amount of support everyone has given him. Our hearts are full. when he sat on the bed he said,

"is this what a bed feels like?!"

Theres still a lot we need to get situated. I'm going to give him a haircut, and my lovely neighbor was able to give us some info for a program that helps with medical care!

He's been getting lots of rest, and after cleaning up, his legs are looking SO much better.

We are still waiting for the rest of the funds to transfer, so there will be more updates in the coming weeks.

Thank you all again! 💚

https://gofund.me/7f86c9d0

[cumikering]

Ghost x plus-sized reader

2.1k | fluff, drink spiking Did you just call Simon weak? The rest of the 141 didn’t like that

“Can I carry you?”

At the pub table, you almost spat the last gulp of your drink at the question. You turned to the source of the gruff voice, meeting the man’s chest before craning your neck up to his eyes. He had to be over 6 ft tall.

You set your glass down. “I’m sorry?”

“My mates are betting I can’t get anyone to piggyback.”

“And you picked me?”

He nodded at your top. “Skulls are sort of my lucky charm.”

You scoffed, looking past him at the other ladies in the room. “Are you serious? There are plenty who weigh far less.”

His brow rose. “Are you calling me weak?”

You took in the width of his shoulders, how his loose black shirt couldn’t hide the thickness of his biceps – the left one inked. He was handsome, rugged with the scar across his cheek, his short blond hair and light scruff, but his stare and bluntness made him beyond intimidating.

How could you get out of this situation with the least fuss?

“N- no.”

His eyes softened a touch. “May I? Please?”

Playing along and getting it over with should be the safest bet. “Okay... But-”

He turned his back and squatted slightly. “Hop on.”

“Wait- are you sure you can?”

“Hop on,” he repeated.

At that point, it was not your fault anymore if he ended up embarrassing himself. So you gripped his hard shoulders and did as told before he swiftly hooked his large hands under your jean-clad thighs. He didn’t grunt or strain when he bounced you to position and straightened up. As if you weighed nothing, which was a feeling you never thought you’d experience.

You had to give it to him - his strength was impressive. You chuckled to yourself, seeing the top of everyone’s head amused you. Across the pub, the table of three men grinned at the massive stranger. The one with the mohawk was very much entertained as he gave him thumbs up.

It was then that Simon groaned, because his team was embarrassing the hell out of him. That, and he finally got to feel how soft and warm you were pressed up against him. A little creepy, but a man was allowed to fantasise about a birdie he’d been eyeing, right?

“That’s all, yeah? You just have to carry-”

He stepped towards the bar, making you latch onto him.

“Oh! Where are you going?

“I’m getting you a drink.”

“You don’t have to.”

“Please, I insist.” When he flagged the barman down, you held on tighter. “It’s the least I can offer for getting you involved.”

You laughed, your breath warm against his ear. “Are you going to set me down or am I having my drink on your back?”

“Don’t give me ideas.” He chuckled as he lowered you to your feet.

He leaned against the bar, arm folded as he stared at you on the stool, downing your shot before looking at yourself on your selfie cam.

“Would you… like something as well?” you asked after you tucked your phone back in your pocket.

He shook his head.

“Okay. Well, thanks for he drink. You could get back to your mates if you want.”

“I’m Simon,” he mustered instead.

“Hi.” You shifted in your seat. “Is something the matter?”

“No.” He frowned. “Why are you asking?”

“It’s just you’ve been staring, and there’s nothing on my face. I checked.”

Bloody hell, could he be any more awkward? He just wanted to ask why you were alone without being weird about it.

He looked away. “I didn’t mean to.” You make me stupid. It didn’t help that your previous drink had tinted your lips, looking even more kissable up close.

“I think your mates want you back though.” You chuckled, nodding at his table.

When he turned to them, they immediately busied themselves with their drinks, averting their gazes.

“They’re a nosy bunch, they are.” He inched closer to you. “The one in the beanie, that’s our captain. The other two are my sergeants.”

“You’re the lieutenant?”

He hummed. “The one with the mohawk is the prankster. He’s a bad influence. He’ll talk you into doing anything.”

“He put you up to this then?”

He shrugged, a small smile playing on his lips.

As if on cue, Soap looked up with an uncontained grin, only to look back down when he realised eyes were on him.

”Seems like he can’t wait to say hi.” He swiftly picked you up off your seat, bridal-style. “Is this enough to show you weigh nothin’?” he asked, fighting the urge to grab a handful of your soft thigh and waist.

“Oh- oh dear!” You laughed, arm wrapping around his neck, pretty fingers grasping his bicep. “Wait, wait, put me down!”

When you were back on your feet, you pulled your phone out of your pocket. “Sorry, I’m actually meeting someone. He’s almost here.”

So that was why you were alone. You were waiting for someone. Disappointment anchored at the bottom of his chest.

“Right. Okay.”

You smiled. “Thanks for the drink, Simon. I’ll see you around, yeah?”

He grunted and you headed to the end of the bar. He stood umoving for another second before retreating to his table like a kicked puppy.

“L.T., wha’ happened? She was havin’ so much fun!” Soap shot as soon as Simon took his seat next to him.

“She’s meetin’ someone,” he said quietly.

“Aww… Sorry, Ghost,” Gaz said. “But hey, she let you carry her!”

With your back to him, you looked at your phone whenever a man walked in.

Huh, first date?

You flagged down some other blond man who walked over to you with a smile. The barman took your order before you chatted with him with a polite smile, keeping a respectable distance between the two of you.

Simon was in no place to watch and invade your privacy – he really should look away. But what was it that simmered in him when the bloke scooted closer, his arm along the back of your chair?

He laughed, pointing at something on the TV. You looked up, and your hand deftly covered your drink, like an instinct.

He smirked. Smart girl.

“I know she’s with someone, but I can tell she likes you more,” Price said, and Simon finally tore his gaze away from you.

“Ye should fight ‘im, L.T. He dinnae stand a fuckin’ chance.”

“You can knock him out with a slap,” Gaz quipped.

He chuckled, blatantly looking over Price to you again. “Rather just look.” While it wasn’t for him, at least he could watch your pretty smile from here and quench his thirst a bit.

With the bloke’s drink in hand, he wrapped his arm around your shoulder, his other hand inching to your covered drink now. He tipped his glass over you, causing you to jump and grab serviettes to dab yourself with. Just as fast, his fisted hand opened over your drink before helping you.

“No fucking way,” Simon said out loud.

“What?” Gaz followed his line of sight.

He marched over, yanking the man around by the shoulder. “What the bloody hell did you just do?”

He stumbled off his seat from the force, making the lieutenant tower over him even more. “What? Who- Do you know him?” He turned to you.

His finger jabbed the man’s chest. “What. The. Fuck. Did you put in her drink?”

“Nothing! What are you accusing me of?”

Simon didn’t miss the crack in the man’s voice. He raised your drink to the man’s face, a tiny white tablet swaying at the bottom of the glass. “Empty your pockets.”

“Simon, what’s…”

“I’m not repeating myself.”

The man fished out his phone, wallet and keys with trembling hands.

“That’s not all.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. There’s nothing else, mate!” he said exasperatedly.

Simon’s patience ran dry. He patted his front pocket, hand bumping over something. “You need to see this,” he said quietly to you.

You hesitantly stuck your hand in the man’s left pocket, coming up with a bag of white tablets.

The man smacked the bag out of your hand. “You planted that, you slag!”

“If you didn’t do anything, drink it.” He spat, holding out your drink to him, now cloudy and fizzing.

He stared at the glass. “Fuck you,” he said, pushing it onto Simon’s chest before dashing out of the pub.

“Did he…”

“The fuck was that, Simon?” Price questioned from behind him.

“Fucking piece of shit spiked her drink.”

Price turned to you, a hand on your shoulder. “You got his name and number, love?”

“Yes.” You blinked. ”Yes, his number and dating profile.”

“I’m sending the coppas his way.” He picked up the evidence on the ground with a serviette. “Simon, get the details and make sure she gets home safe,” he said before approaching the barman.

You dried his ruined shirt with a wad of serviette. “I can’t even begin to thank you for your help, Simon. Really, thank you so much. I wouldn’t have-”

“You did good.” He squeezed your hand over his chest. “You covered your glass when you weren’t looking, but spilling his drink on you was something else.”

When you looked up at him with wide eyes, he dropped your hand.

“Would you like me to send you home?”

“I don’t want to trouble you. I don’t even live nearby.”

“Would you let me, if I want to?”

There was a pause before you smiled. “I think I’d like that, actually.”

When he grabbed his jacket from the table, Soap patted him on the back.

“Good catch, L.T. What a fuckin’ disgrace, the lad.”

“Have fun, Ghost,” Gaz teased.

Outside the pub where the streets were quieter, you forwarded the profile and chat screenshots of the man from your group chat to Simon.

“Can’t be too cautious. I’m not surprised if that’s not even his name honestly.” You shrugged, stuffing your phone back in your pocket. “I knew it was dodgy he insisted on meeting here when I said I’d rather somewhere in the middle, in broad daylight. That, and he was half an hour late too!”

It was disheartening to know this was the reality of dating, that all sorts of people lurked online, sometimes not with the best intentions. He’d show you his ID just to prove he wasn’t a creep, just someone smitten with a staring problem if any.

“If it was me, I’d have taken you anywhere you wanted.”

You chuckled.

“On my back too, if you prefer. I think you quite enjoyed that.”

“I did, actually,” you teased. “Is it a bad time to tell you I’m starving?”

“Yeah? That’s good news, because I’m always hungry. A kebab sounds about right at this hour.”

“Extra chips?”

“Extra chips,” he affirmed.

“You know what, I think this is my sign.” You pulled out your phone again, deleting an app. “Don’t think online dating was ever my thing.”

Is a stranger at a pub who shamelessly stares at you more your thing?

“Going out with someone who offers to carry me around is more like it.”

He bit back a smile. “So? Another ride on my back?”

You chuckled. “Next time,” you said, taking his arm instead.

As much as he enjoyed your touch, he couldn’t do with your fingers over his jacket. He needed to feel you. When he held your hand in his, you smiled up at him.

Simon had to thank his team for painstakingly convincing the stubborn lieutenant to approach the lady he’d been staring at. You didn’t have to know there was no bet, that asking to carry you was his own idea, an outrageous excuse to talk to you. But he wouldn’t complain if he ended up helping you, taking you for a little supper and even got to send you home.

“When’s next time?” he asked at your door, squeezing your hand.

You really shouldn’t have said it, because he was going to make sure there would be one. It had become a goal to show you how you deserved to be treated on a date.

“Is tomorrow too soon?”

“Right now isn’t even too soon.”

You laughed, pulling him down by the shoulder to meet your lips.

For @glitterypirateduck ‘s Ghost Challenge :D check out her page for fic recs!

Neighbour Ghost AU if he still had his family

Ghost's online fantasies came true Masterlist

[cj-theyoungling]

Simon Riley x Reader

cw : Being drunk. This is pure fluff soooo.

synopsis : Simon goes to a pub after a mission and ends up getting a bit more drunk than he bargained for. After asking for you incoherently Gaz finally gets you on the phone.

author's note : This was inspired by this work I read while I was on the train and I had to put my two cents in. Simon might be OOC in this but it's my story so I get to decide how he acts drunk.

The sound of your ringtone fills your bedroom and wakes you up with a start. You fumble around the empty sheets looking for your phone, you squint at the brightness of the screen and answer once you see Simons contact photo.

"Hey! I think Ghost is asking for you. He's a little bit wasted right now." I man in a baseball cap says to you. You watch as he hands the phone over to Simon.

Simon's face fills the screen, once he catches sight of you the fabric of his balaclava folds in a way you know means he's smiling. "Hi baby." You coo at the screen. His eyes light up as he brings the screen closer to his face. You can tell he's drunk when he leans against Price as he replies.

"Hi doll. I miss you." He slurs his words together, between that and the usual muffling of his mask you can barely make out what he's saying.

"I miss you too Simon." This elicits what you can only assume is a frown from him.

"You don't call me that." He grumbles, you giggle in response and the sound of Price chuckling comes through the phone.

"Damn! You're whipped LT!" A Scottish accent shouts, also clearly drunk.

"Where are you love? I'm gonna come get you." You start putting on your sweatshirt and shoes, you laugh as you hear Simon ask Price the name of the they're at. You hang up, much to Simon's dismay, and drive to go get him.

You enter the mostly empty pub and quickly catch sight of the table full of burly men who all seem to be arguing over something.

"Well is she your wife Ghost? You have their last name saved as Riley." The one who answered the call says, now having shed his cap from earlier.

"Why didn't you tell us about her." Another man says, his hair is sticking up in a mohawk.

Price chuckles at their antics, having caught sight of you walking towards them. "Nice to see you again." He greets, giving you a quick side hug.

"Again?!" The mohawked one says incredulously. You chuckle and introduce yourself to the two men. Simon, suddenly alert once you start speaking stands and wraps his arms around you tightly.

"I missed you doll." He mumbles into your neck, ignoring the laughs from Gaz and Soap.

"I missed you more baby. Now let's get you home, you're wasted." You chuckle as you lead him away from the table. You wave at the men and get Simon into the car.

Once you get into the drivers seat Simon grabs your hand and holds it tightly. You smile as you begin to drive home. Making sure to take a few pictures when Simon falls asleep in the passenger seat.

[bi-writes]

idk just thinking about seeing your lieutenant for the first time, this big giant dog of a man, and thinking to yourself, "hmmm yeah, i'm gonna make that thing mine." (18+)

like. i'm thinking about seeing him walk into the room for the first time. fresh off an op, still in all his gear. he's angry cause he's been awake off and on for 40 hours at this point, and he sinks down into a chair in the mess hall, and your eyes bug cause the chair fucking bends with his weight.

and you're just like "omg omg omg holy shit" cause this fucking brute is just huge and beefy, and you had no idea this was your type until you watched his hand curl around a cup and make it look miniature. and you're wondering like "fuck i bet those holsters are custom made" cause you don't think you've ever seen them stretch that far around someone's thigh.

ughghghghgh, and he's dumb as shit, too, or maybe he's just fucking blind. you give him every hint in the book, every indication of how you feel other than pasting a giant neon sign on your forehead that says "fuck me."

you wear the tightest cargo pants you can get. you let the buttons on your shirts go low whenever he's near. you make excuses to see him late, delivering him paperwork in the middle of the night, meeting him out for a smoke (and he's never seen you smoke anything), shuffling your way in front of him in line so you can bump into him and graze your ass against his front. he even catches you this way--even curls his hand around your waist and steadies you before letting you go impatiently.

fuck, bending over in front of him, the obnoxious giggling, the excuses to dangle your tits in his face. you want this man underneath you, on top of you, tangled around you and suffocating you with those enormous arms, and he barely side-glances at you whenever you're in his vicinity, and it's infuriating.

what do you have to do to reel this thing in? how many bones do you have to give him?

how many times do i have to flash my bra at you for you to fuck me over your desk?!

you can't eat another cherry in front of him. you can't drop more sauce onto your cleavage. you cannot come out of the showers in just a towel in front of him anymore because you're going to lose your fucking mind--

you even made out with his beloved little sergeant, his favorite little know-it-all that can't stop blowing shit up. that blue-eyed, insufferable, yapper of a scot that kisses all wet, with teeth, who pants like a puppy when he asks if he can 'ave a taste of y'r bonnie cunt, please, please, please--

and you say yes, because maybe he'll finally fucking shut up if you drown him between your thighs and never let him come up for air.

face down, ass up, cargos around your ankles, hips pushing past against that puppy's stubble as he devours you on his knees. his big hands spread your ass for him, and his thumbs flick over your folds as he opens you up, a cackle leaving him before he opens his mouth wide and kisses your pussy all sloppy and uncoordinated.

when the door swings open and hits the wall with a bang, the puppy tries to leave. he tries to move, but you reach back and grip his mohawk, scowling as you shove his face back where it belongs as your lieutenant stands at the door and heaves with anger.

"uh uh," you snap, and your sergeant on his knees whines, his blue eyes a little foggy and wet as he blinks up at you. but he complies, his tongue slurping, and you flutter your lashes at your lieutenant as you keep johnny muzzled in your cunt. "sorry, lieutenant. is this your office? must've read the sign wrong."

you reel from the contact. a big hand grips you by the hair, slamming you down against his desk, and you choke as you try and gasp for air. like a good boy, johnny settles where he is, shoving his tongue down your hole and moaning low when he realizes you're dripping down his chin now that his lieutenant has you.

"y'think this is funny, eh?" ghost mutters in your ear. "y'think i don't know wot y'r doin'? think i 'aven't caught on, think i 'aven't noticed wot a fuckin' insatiable bloody pain in my arse you've been ever since y'got 'ere?!"

you whimper, relaxing against the desk, and ghost tugs at your hair again, shaking his head.

"oi! y'don't get to be stupid just because y'r gettin' y'r cunny played with," ghost snaps. "y'r a right headache."

you laugh, getting up to your elbows, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as ghost scruffs johnny by the base of his mohawk and cups your pussy with one big hand. you gasp, leaning your head back, because finally, yes, it's all i want, please, please, please--

"'f you wanted to be my pet so bad," ghost murmurs, fitting himself behind you, leaning over your shoulder as he spits into your ear, "all ya had to do was fuckin' ask, swee'eart."

when your eyes open, ghost hums, clicking his tongue under the mask.

"use y'r words," he growls. "be a good girl, and say wot it is y'want."

"want you," you whine, and he sighs deeply, closing his eyes, and you drown out the sounds of johnny sputtering at your feet as ghost bends you at the hip a little more, arching your back.

"mmm...tha'sit. was tha' so hard?"

[spite-and-waffles]

(alt included)

Link to Video. (Please help Panda make money.)

Video description and transcript under the cut.

Description: TikTok video by The Panda Redd. Re-enactment of final scene of Under the Hood. All roles played by Panda (a tall, well-built young white man with a mohawk, wearing a grey hoodie). Setting is a dark basement lit only by a hanging light bulb.

Transcript.

Jason: (holding gun on Bruce) "Bruce, I forgive you for not saving me."

Batman: (glares silently)

Jason: "But why? Why on God's Earth—" (hits Joker across the face)

Joker (tied to a chair): *cackles*

Jason: "—is HE still alive??"

Joker: "AHAHAHAHAHHAHA!"

Batman:

Batman: "I'm sorry, d'you want me to be serious here or—?"

Jason: (in disbelief) "YES, Bruce! I want you to be serious right now! If he had done what he did to me to you, I would've done nothing but search the earth for this pile of death-worshiping garbage!"

Joker: "I love you too, Sugar Plum."

Batman: (holds hands up) "Okay, yeah, I get that, totally, I get that. Um. Have you tried?"

Jason: "Excuse you?"

Batman: "Have you tried to kill him yet?"

Jason: (to Joker) "Is he being serious?"

Joker: (also confused) "I'm gonna be honest with you, Junior. I don't know."

Jason: "Got it. Great." (turns back to Batman) "What the fuck does THAT mean?"

Batman: "Okay, so no, you haven't. Cool. Do it."

Jason:

Jason: (lowers gun) "What."

Batman: "Do it, cap his ass. Shoot him."

Joker: "I'm gonna go with Junior here, and say...what?"

Jason: "You want me to shoot him?"

Batman: "I want someone to shoot him! Give me the gun, I'll do it!"

Jason: (mutters, brain blue screening) "What is going on right now? This should a lot harder than it is."

Batman: "C'mon, son! You decapitated like eleven people three days ago! Fuckin' do it!"

Jason: "There, you happy? Jesus. Was that so hard? All of this time and it was THAT easy!"

Joker: (turns to Jason quizzically) "This has gotta be some sort of test, ri—"

(BANG! Jason fires. Joker lands on the floor lifeless, eyes still open.)

Batman: "I don't know what you're talking about "easy". There's nothing there." (nods at floor)

Jason: "What the fuck is that supposed to—" (looks down at floor where the Joker was lying)

Floor: (is devoid of Joker)

Jason: (stares)

Floor: (continues to be sans anything but carpet)

Jason: "What the fuck?"

Batman: "Yeah."

Jason: "WHAT THE FUCK?"

Batman: "Take as long as you need with this."

Jason: (looking around frantically) "I just shot him! He hit the floor! What the f—"

Floor: (is just vibin')

Jason: "Where the fuck did he go??"

Batman: "See that shit? That shit right there happens every fucking time!"

Jason: "There's not even a blood stain! It's just gone!"

Batman: "Yeah, like two days after you died, I chased him into a helicopter where he got shot like six times. The helicopter exploded and crashed into the ocean. And his body was gone before Superman could find it."

Jason: "Oh my God. I don't understand how this is even fucking possible!"

Batman: "He's like a cryptid! I don't fucking get it!"

Joker: (disembodied laughter) "AHAHAHAHA HAHAHA!"

Jason: (freaked out, turning in circles trying to find him) "Oh my God!"

Batman: "THAT OMINOUS SHIT HAPPENS TOO! I DON'T KNOW, DUDE!"

Jason: "Dude. Fuck whatever's going on here, that's some fucking bullshit."

Batman: "Thank you! Finally someone gets it!"

[screamingviridianforest]

Smth smth thinking about reader being an escaped shifter experiment, escaped from the US to hide in Britain

You try to act like a normal civilian, but the urge to shift is building to be intolerable. So why fight it? It's easier to live as a cat anyway, maybe someone could take you in.

What you didn't expect was for 4 giant, bulky, military men to find you. They'd found you in an alleyway near a fish restaurant, searching for scraps. The one wearing the weird mask had been the one to pick you up.

Then, the other 3 rushed over after hearing your yowling. The damn masked bastard had you scruffed!

"I found a cat."

Wow. Brilliant observation.

"Simon, it's a stray."

"I was a stray."

There was a snort, "C'mon Cap, it's kinda cute, isn't it?"

You hiss indignantly, you were not an it! The one with a mohawk reaches out to you, letting you sniff his fingers.

"We do not need a cat, Soap don't touch it. Who knows what it has."

"It's too clean to be a stray, ah doubt it's a stray. Give 'er here, LT."

The masked man hands you over, and you're quick to scramble onto the mohawk man's shoulder, wrapping around his neck. You growl a little in your displeasure, but don't swat.

"See! Docile, little thing, aren't ya!"

[captn-duck-gremlin]

Like it all started when you and some friends decided to do some urban exploration, visiting a broken abandoned military base. Now while there your friends are of course being dumb, touching things with bare hands, no face coverings to protect them from whatever harmful things could be in the air, respect for the possible dead is on floor level with them. You on the other hand, you got gloves, a face mask just in case, you're apologizing to anything you bump into. You did the research, this place went down from an unexpected attack, so there might be a corpse around somewhere (or lingering spirit). You give a short prayer to anything that looks like a corpse, regardless if you follow in those beliefs or now; you just want to be respectful to the dead. And yes, this place is haunted. Obviously. Now the important part, at one point or another 4 damned souls have clung to you. You dont notice at first, you barely feel that buzz that you're being watched. But the first unnatural thing to happen to you starts in a dream, a weirdly detailed dream. You're a housewife in the 50s. Cute summer dress, lovely home, nice street. But it feels too real, the patterns on the walls stay perfect no matter how long you stare at them, you can read lines from books you've never seen before, you look at your hands and they don't look distorted like they usually are in dreams. Then a man walks through your front door like he owns the place, you don't recognise him. At all. Yet he speaks to you in such a nice rough voice from his cigars, calling you such sweet things. Treating you like his wife. Then after what felt like hours from playing housewife you wake up, confused to hell and back. You brush it off until the next night, where you're sucked into another oddly very detailed dream, but its so different. From housewife in the 50s to maiden in the ye old times. The man is different, instead of tough, friendly bearded husband, you now have dark knight with skull markings. Helmet stays on at all times, but despite the rough and scary armour and vibe, he treats you like you're the finest silk, the sweetest flower, like you'll shatter if he so much as looks at you wrong. And after living through that you wake up once again incredibly confused. Is this what the backrooms feel like? You don't know, you don't want to know. Night rolls around once more which you dread and sure enough another weird dream with a new life. Now, at a farmland on the outskirts of an old styled town, you got chickens, goats, two cows, some ducks and a bulky husband with a silly mohawk. You don't know what year it is, what century you're at, at this point you're just rolling with it. Husband got a nice accent, Scottish you might think it is. He's absolutely spoiling you, treating you like a princess for no reason. Not like you're complaining. After that dream, you wake up contemplating that you might be losing your mind. But no, you're just being haunted by demons who like spending time with you through your dreams. Moving on. 4th weird dream, this feels further up into recent years, maybe 2000s. Cute husband, looks like a sweetheart, is a sweetheart. His skin is darker from the other ones, but not like you could tell with Sir Skull and Bones. He has a smooth voice, could probably sweet talk a bear. Time with him was almost too sweet. You swore his pupils nearly went heart shaped when he looks at you. And like the rest of them, you wake up confused. And thats just how your nights go, things in the day go.. strangely.

Oh and quick reminder, don't run from them.

[neverendingford]

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