#He’s kind of mysterious

[noodles-and-tea]

Back at it with my enchanted merthur shenanigans

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Flower Empowered.

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[canisalbus]

I swapped them around in a silly doodle

.

[egophiliac]

Hi it's just to let you know that the official romanization of Revaan's name is Raverne ! Also they have romanized Baul's name to Baur !

Twst coming back at us again with the least expected romanization! thank you everybody (oh god my inbox) (no it's great, I literally asked for this and the reactions have been INCREDIBLE, thank you all!)

I do like Raverne though, I think it's got a nice fancy sound to it! (I had kinda suspected it was going to be an R instead of an L, so the fact that it's SO close to Laverne except for that is hilarious to me personally.) and Dragoneye Duke is honestly probably the best translation for his title, I wasn't envying the localizers that one. :') Baur instead of Baul I was NOT expecting, but in retrospect I think his name's supposed to be a reference to the Bauru crocodile, so that actually makes way more sense!

someone else also said Meleanor has become Maleanor, which is the REALLY weird one to me, because I was so surprised it was written as Mel instead of Mal in the first place?! oh god no I can't decide which one I like better. 😭 (I wonder if they might change it to Mal...they have made romanization changes before) (like I remember House of Distraction being corrected to House of Destruction in Playful Land) (I did check and she's still Mel for now, but I dunno, they might Mal her up and some point and save me from having to make a decision about which one to use) (HECK I CAN'T DECIDE)

uhhhh thank you for letting me ramble about anime names, let's just say MONOGRAMMED SWEATERS FOR EVERYONE

[stevieharringtonwifeguy]

me 🤝 eddie munson

being absolutely obsessed with steve harrington and unable to comprehend how no one else is

[2manyflannels]

Thank the lord that Benoit Blanc is a detective with compassion and kindness and cares while also being a genius detective because the two don’t need to be exclusive

[piquuroblox]

the new toons are all SOO CUTEEE ive been drawing them for like 2 days straight

[iyohme]

and i know that you mean so well;

but i am not a vessel for your good intent!

("Tongues and Teeth," - The Crane Wives)

my serotonin got jetpack bursted into the stratosphere with this blurb by OP. Your brain is so juicy and moist and wrinkly OP. Godspeed. I'm not even into DC but the whole "Burnt out and neglected, and now a bunch of people driven by guilt guilt guilt want me back so they can feel less guilty?" just made the racoon in me rub its hands menacingly hoho

Just imagine not even living your best life; just a shadow in the lives of the illustrious Waynes, a ghost in a castle, visible only to the loyal servant and the occasional curious paparazzi who shrugs and looks away--after all, there was no mention of you in any occasion: must be the kid of in-house staff. How nice of Brucie Wayne to allow even the children of in-house staff the opportunity to study at such a high-end college! (The reporters chortle and snicker at your barely-passing marks, sighing at such a wasted opportunity. Oh well. And then they move on to the tabloid topic of the week, after the strutting socialites and the rich and the arrested Rogues.)

You gather things.

You gather pieces of a cracked dream, a single plastic teacup you had brought into the cavernous mansion the day you held Alfred's old, gnarled hand. Ears ringing and slippers still stained with your parent's blood as they were gunned down before your very eyes. You gather your things, what made you before you were "Wayne," so to say. Your mother's old cigarette box, smuggled from the crime scene, your one memento of the woman who you could not forget but never forgive.

A juxtaposition of love and hate, forever crucified. The image of the Virgin Mary inside the tin box seems to be a mockery of faith, across from her image lying cheap cigarettes.

You gather test papers, all barely passing and with more reds than blacks, and grind them up into strips with the shredder you had brought; just one time the black card Wayne had given you, and it left the bitterest, sourest aftertaste in your mouth. They burn so cozily on the school Bunsen burners, especially when sprayed with alcohol, immediately immolating like timelapse sparkler videos. You gather your name before the Incident, you cherish it, and you repeat the syllables in the dead of night, spilling past your mouth. Even if it was the name of a child-abusing monster, it was still yours, and it was still of use.

And use it, you would.

While they go and be a family, you work to begin yours.

You gather funds: it's easy to take on odd jobs when people do not suspect you. You tuck away that black card at the bottom of your study table drawers, forgotten there like scribbled-out pages of an essay, an unfinished drawing, and leftover candy wrappers. It's a bit-by-bit work, but you know the Waynes wouldn't even see it happening. Your brothers and sisters (an absurdly alien concept, as they don't even acknowledge you exist ninety-five percent of the time) are prodigies paraded around at every event. You are the unseen ghost flitting through their shadows.

Graduation comes and goes. It's laughably easy to falsify having lost your social security number and other documents--Gotham is that much of a shithole, you suppose. The man in the cowl notwithstanding. His efforts are admirable, but weak. Recidivism is common in this place, as if there were some sort of pull that incited the people in Gotham to cruelty, to madness.

It's absurdly Lovecraftian, in its own way.

You are not even living your best life, and yet you are free. Alfred knows; he always knows. If you are The Ghost, then the aged butler is a man one step between the doors of death, and he sees you every time you move. Your room is empty, and he raises an eyebrow at your satchel: all your items already stored elsewhere or given away.

("I suppose this was a long time coming, Little Master."

Tap tap tap. Footsteps on marble floors, setting sun.

You shrug. "Eh. The Waynes gave me a roof and education. It's all good."

You grunt. "Well, people change. Like you know, how kids being gifted stop being gifted when they grow older." You say, instead of 'Well, if a child doesn't get any praise or attention if they do good and probably even less if they were bad, why even bother?')

A pause. "Your academics were not so lackluster when you were younger."

You promise to try and stay in touch. (You crossed your fingers behind your back.) You leave, sunset on your face.

The nap you had in a dingy hotel with far too many odd stains and not enough locks you could put on was the soundest you've ever slept in years.

Freedom smells like summer air and the last rays of sun, followed by the cold blue hour.

It takes three months for an out-of-state college to accept you. It's far from Gotham. It has a dormitory. Excellent. While you were indeed a mediocre academic student, you had banked everything on band scholarships.

Who knew more than a hundred clarinet players had unclaimed scholarships yearly? Packing up your small life in bags, you take a train upwards to another state.

(Meanwhile, in Gotham, there is an odd sense of unease as Bruce Wayne stops by an inconspicuous door. It's relatively clean, as expected of his manor, but the worn out brass on the handle suggests that someone had lived there before. He opens the door. Steps in. A bed, a dresser, a study table. Bare bones.

The unease intensifies. But who?)

Someone had lived in here, yes.

[mysticalcats]

Wait have you ever drawn macavity?? If you're still taking requests then could you maybe do him? :0

look at this evil little man

[vialae]

Gortash, his silk robe dramatically billowing behind him as he’s running down the stairs, because he received a letter from his crush (the most prolific serial killer in Baldur’s Gate) that he must respond to as soon as possible.

[radiance1]

Ferret Danny.

So, Vlad has decided to host a Gala at his own mansion, inviting a vast majority of the rich, including Lex Luthor and the Wayne family. Danny, not so subtly begs Vlad for him to join in because he has a plan.

Vlad doesn't know why Danny is begging since he never does, but he eventually caves in an agrees for Danny to attend. Danny calls up the ghost ferrets and makes a whole plan to have them in suits and dresses and little accessories for them as well. He askes Vlad to make various gadgets that would let them translate into human speech and then is off teaching them lessons.

Never would he thought he would use them, but this is one of the best ways he's ever decided to.

The day of the Gala, there are various amounts of ferrets in butler outfits leading in guests (some walk on two feet) and some even being the guests. Danny, meanwhile, is dressed like a king (he is not the ghost king.) with a royal cape, a crown and scepter. He's personally greeting every guest (ferret) that enters alongside Vlad, and when that's over the ferrets are seated at a table (not on the same level as the other guests) and seemingly having a very serious discussion.

Everyone else (aside from Vlad) is confused about this situation. Certainly, they've heard rumors about Vlad Masters has a program buying and collecting various ferrets, but this isn't what any of them even imagined and that, the white one who's eyes and fur glowed was obviously a sight to see as well.

Various people asked where Vlad acquired him from, with Vlad not giving any specific answer. A while into the gala, Lex Luthor is getting increasingly annoyed by the fact that Vlad Masters has shrugged him off to talk with mere animals, and obviously he's noticed that whenever he walks towards the man to make conversation, one of them appear at his side to talk with him and causes him to turn down any other conversation at that point.

Safe to say, he isn't pleased.

Damian Wayne has heard many a rumor about Vlad Masters. How could he not? He's famous for his hospitalization, his quick rise to power, his reclusiveness and love for the packers.

The rumors he focused on, however, was those that involved the ferrets the man seemingly collected. Damian couldn't let it go when he heard rumors that perhaps Vlad Masters buys them to fulfill some sick, twisted pleasure of his, and that he buys more and more because the others he's bought didn't last long.

As the son of the Bat and the successor to the Robin mantle he couldn't let this go until he's investigated to confirm the rumors, and out the man for his cruelty if they prove to be true.

So him holding a gala was a chance he couldn't let go of. For Vlad Masters only attends galas, never does he host them himself, a rare opportunity for him to easily enter the man's domain was one he could not let go of.

What he saw when he got there was not of his expectations, seeing a green colored ferret dressed as a butler leading them into the mansion wasn't it, he expected a human one. He thought back to some of the more gruesome rumors, and suddenly something seemed to click for him and he was worried.

He needed to investigate thoroughly.

Then he saw this one particular ferret, and Damian's stomach twisted. A ferret who's fur glowed a brilliant white and eyes a toxic green that obviously spoke of experimentation, and while he may be dressed as a king, Damian couldn't help but jump to unfortunate conclusions.

If he wanted to know what was going, then he had to speak to someone. He tried speaking with the ferrets that lead him and his family in, a device seemingly allowing them to speak in human tongue on their person and Damian looked closer. He saw that their fur seemed to glow as well, just like the first, not as brightly and there were certain other features he brushed off as them belonging to another species he didn't know of.

But running along the lines of experimentation everything just seemed to click together like puzzle pieces.

Unfortunately, the butlers didn't offer him much information, so he had to set his sights on the other 'guests'. They didn't have much to say either, so he had to look elsewhere.

He couldn't talk to that despicable man called Vlad Masters, that would raise suspicion all to quickly if he asked certain questions, so.

He set his sights on the king, seated at a table with other ferrets dressed like nobles. If anyone were to know better than what was going on here, then it had to be one of them.

[cozyfaee]

Ahhhhh he's so 🥺🥰🥺🥰🥺🥰

[kvetchinglyneurotic]

As much as I make fun of season 1 Jon’s skeptic era, it is actually very effective world-building: while he often dismisses what seem like obviously supernatural occurrences (looking at you, Arachnophobia), Jon is clearly operating on the assumption that some of the statements will be legitimate — he not only takes known threats like Jane Prentiss and the remnants of Jurgen Leitner’s library seriously, but also sees statements he had previously dismissed as potentially legitimate when the same names or events reappear later on. Basically, it establishes that in ordinary (non-apocalyptic) times, supernatural events are known and accepted as real, but uncommon enough even employees at the Magnus Institute consider them to be the exception rather than the rule. 

[jerreeeeeee]

lup and taako are not incredulous about each other’s taste in men their type is literally the same and they know it (dorks with a strange relationship to death)

[opera-ghost]

phantom of the opera + twitter

[batsyvie]

she reminds him of his rose