#I'm brain dead now

[lotus-pear]

mourning black and the death of ideals

[ratcandy]

alright baby after a full SEVEN HOURS, here's a rough little thing .

When I first got Shamura in my cult and realized they had seemingly completely lost their memories, I was just immediately reminded of this scene from Bojack Horseman and. well it plagued me for AGES until I finally went insane to make this thing.

'cause i mean . angsty ass men who have so much pent up rage towards a family member who treated them poorly but cannot properly express it due to said family member lacking any memory of it. amiright

some frames i like:

[wordsinhaled]

it was really only a matter of time until edwardian payneland happened and what if i channeled maurice about it. just a little

-

Charles is the son of the groundskeeper at St. Hilarion's School for Boys while Edwin is a pupil there. And he can't help but notice Edwin—how he’s nearly always alone, or else being harangued by the cruel older boys who call themselves his peers.

Charles privately thinks they hardly seem equal to him in poise or grace or manner. They are boisterous, brash, crass, violent, all overlaid with a veneer of false propriety, but Charles can see the cracks in it. He knows that sort by how they are inside, and they cannot be like Edwin at all. No, Edwin Paine's got a sad, drawn sort of look about him that Charles can't help recognizing. This lonely boy who feels somehow kindred in a way he can't put a finger on, but is pulled to him all the same, though by rights he'd do better to keep his distance.

Edwin often sits by the lake by himself, to read, or to do his assignments in the shade of the trees. Picturesque as a painting, he is. One day Charles dares to approach him, though he knows the risk in it—prepared to be rebuffed, rebuked for his untoward attention to someone he is meant to ignore; but the boy does not turn him away.

And so they become friends. Tentative, and then less and less so.

Together they explore the school's sprawling grounds, all of whose surprising hiding-places Charles Rowland knows by heart, having wandered them himself for years and made them his own refuge. The woods become theirs; the shore by the lake theirs; the shade of the trees theirs. The attic, where no one comes to look for them in the dead of night, also theirs.

And then one day Charles notices a group of boys surrounding Edwin. The usual cadre, and they're posturing, their voices loud in the autumn air. They’ve ripped Edwin's penny magazine from his grip and are tearing pages out of it, scattering them to be plucked up by the wind. Charles can do nothing else but step in. He shouts at them to back off, puts himself between them and Edwin, and gets himself thrashed for his trouble—but they, at least, finally leave Edwin alone.

Edwin, for his part, cannot believe Charles would be so reckless for his sake. Charles has not yet mentioned to him that he is used to this sort of treatment, and sees worse at home. They sit together in the boathouse by the lake, cross-legged, close enough for Edwin to dab carefully at Charles’ split lip and bleeding knuckles.

“You should not have done that for me,” he chides, though it carries no heat. “What will happen now?” He thinks word is sure to get back to the school, and there will be a scandal. Those boys, who so vocally despise Edwin, will hardly be quiet in their outrage, their humiliation. Charles’ father might be relieved of his post, and then Charles’ family will have to leave St. Hilarion’s. That is how these things go.

And what was it all for? For Edwin? How could it have been worth it?

“Doesn’t matter, does it?" Charles is saying, when Edwin surfaces from his troubled thoughts. "Couldn’t let them treat you like that. They had you five to one. And that, just ‘cause you’re different. I know how it is.” Charles’ eyelashes are very long, and the light turns his eyes a warm, deep amber as he talks fiercely, insistently, in defense of Edwin.

It’s terribly forward, Edwin thinks. And, despite every misgiving, he welcomes it. No one has ever fought for Edwin before. No one has ever spoken about him with such conviction.

Then Charles seems to lapse into pensiveness. “You didn’t have to…” he says softly. "All this." He gestures, with the free hand Edwin isn’t busy wrapping up, at the little bottle of antiseptic, the scissors, the roll of bandages and the cloths, all spread out on the floorboards between them.

“Of course I did,” Edwin says.

Really, he had not given it much consideration. He had had only the presence of mind to memorize the sight of Charles kneeling in the dew-damp grass, angry gaze still spitting fire at the backs of Edwin’s retreating bullies. He’d had blood in his bared teeth, and the briefest flash of desire had seared through Edwin—to kiss him. Merely in thanks, perhaps, but still, to kiss him.

He would know the warmth of Charles’ mouth. Fleeting, forbidden, it would sear itself into his mind for ever.

Of course, he had done no such thing; for he could not. Instead, he’d done the only thing he could do—bent low towards Charles, and squeezed his shoulder once, as if to say, Wait here for me. I will come back to you.

And as he'd turned on his heel and gone off in the direction of the infirmary, leaving Charles there with dusk encroaching, Edwin had hoped Charles understood his gesture for the indelible promise it was.

[welcometogrouchland]

I understand that literature nerd Jason Todd is kind of overblown in fanon compared to it's actual presence in canon (a few issues during his pre (and post?)crisis Robin tenure that highlight it) BUT consider that I think it's hilarious if the unhinged gun toting criminal has strong opinions on poetry

[dont-offend-the-bees]

Imagine if the Cat King died again and was reborn as a big fluffy maine coon cat with chonky paws and a big ol' primordial pouch and then he shifted to human form and he's not any taller but he's wide and he's chubby and he has body hair and a belly and shaggy brown hair and the same old wicked smile and bitchy sex appeal and flouncy robes and sooo much jewellery but he's fat and he's hairy and post cancelled i think i hauve covid

[armed-with-a-waffle-iron]

Angsty teenage Dick & Babs melts my heart. LOVE how Hope Larson wrote them in Batgirl: Summer of Lies.

"Partners."

"No matter what."

[many-gay-magpies]

man i love how there was rly just. NO hesitation on charles' part on deciding to go to hell to get edwin out. like, typically you'd expect at least SOME deliberation, but nope he was instantly just like "so you can make a portal to hell? okay make one, i'm going in." and yeah some of it can be left up to the fact that he's a ghost and not as liable to die in hell as someone living, but seriously the fact that that was his default course of action? just right off the bat? that level of devotion is frankly a little insane

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Besties can't enable pvp on each other, right?

[First] Prev <--> Next

[libraryofgage]

Scream AU

I've been possessed recently by a Steddie and Buckingham Scream AU, which means I haven't written much for my Tumblr fics hfjkds

Anyway, to make up for it, here's a little snippet of the Scream AU ;)

This snippet is clean, but the fic itself is, uh, very Dead Dove hfjsdk

Still, this snippet does include discussion of murder with vague descriptions and cursing

-------

“Have you heard about Tommy and Carol?”

Chrissy presses her lips together in a thin line, focusing more on the breeze passing over her than Jason’s friend, David, sitting a foot away from her. Jason’s arm is around her waist, encouraging her to lean against his shoulder for the twenty minute free period. 

On Jason’s right side, Steve Harrington is sitting with one leg on the bench and the other on the ground. It creates a space perfect for Robin Buckley to fit in. And she does. She slid into the spot like she owned it, and she’s now leaning back against Steve’s chest, a book in her hands that Steve reads over her shoulder. He never stops her when she turns the page, and Chrissy wonders if he’s actually even reading along.

Robin and Steve look good together. They fit as naturally as the sun that shines down on them, making Robin’s hair glint in a way Chrissy finds difficult to look away from.

“Yeah,” Jason says, shaking his head as he rubs circles on Chrissy’s waist with his thumb. “Fucking brutal, huh?”

“Dingus used to know them,” Robin says, her voice distracted as she turns the page. 

“Used to,” Steve stresses, frowning slightly as he looks away from the book. “Haven’t talked to them much lately. Jason’s the one who's been hanging out with them recently.”

“What happened?” Chrissy asks, getting the feeling she doesn’t actually want to know. Still, she hates the idea of being left out even more.

David grins at her and leans closer, ignoring the way Jason tugs Chrissy closer and glares. “They were both found dead this morning,” he says, his eyes wide and gleeful. “Tommy was floating in the pool, Carol hung from a tree, and both of them were gutted.”

“Gutted?” Chrissy asks.

“Ugh, spare us the details,” Robin says, putting the book down and looking at David with a bored expression. 

David doesn’t listen to her. “Yeah, gutted. Intestines and organs all falling out. Tommy’s were floating in the pool, though, made the water red and everything.”

A sick feeling stirs in Chrissy’s stomach, making her grimace as she looks away from David. She can’t help imagining the sight, nausea sweeping over her uncontrollably. “Dude!” Jason says, his loud voice making her wince. “Have some fucking class, yeah?”

“Sorry,” David says, raising his hands up and keeping his mouth shut for all of two seconds before saying, “I bet they were fucking.”

“What?” Steve asks, looking up at David like he’s stupid.

“You know,” David replies, “fucking. Everyone knows you shouldn’t fuck in a horror movie if you wanna live.”

“This isn’t a movie, dumbass,” Jason says, leaning even further into Chrissy’s space to flick David’s forehead.

“I’m just saying!” David says, rubbing at his forehead. “Everyone knows you shouldn’t have sex unless you wanna die. Look at Friday the 13th! Those counselors getting it on started the whole massacre.”

“So, what, some guy passed by Carol’s place, saw them fucking in the living room, and decided to get stab-happy?” Steve asks, his tone heavily implying David is, in fact, stupid beyond reason.

“Maybe he’s a horror movie aficionado.”

“Do you even know how to spell that word?” Steve asks.

“Do you?”

“How’d they even gut them?” Robin asks, her head falling back on Steve’s shoulder as she moves the subject along. Her neck stretches, and Chrissy focuses on following the line of it down to Robin’s shoulders to ride out the nausea. “Seems like overkill.”

“You cut them from the navel,” Steve says, his finger tapping against Robin’s knee as he looks across the courtyard. When Chrissy follows his gaze, she finds Eddie Munson sitting on a table, grinning at something one of his friends has said. “And I guess you’d go, like, side to side or something.”

Before he can say more, he grunts in pain, and Chrissy looks back to see Robin has roughly elbowed him in the ribs. “I said spare us the details, dingus,” she says, looking at him over her shoulder with a frown. Steve grins and raises his hands in surrender, shrugging once. Robin rolls her eyes and looks away. 

Her gaze lands on Chrissy and she gets up, brushing non-existent dust from her clothes before standing in front of Chrissy. “C’mon, let’s leave the boys to their gross talk,” she says, holding her hand out.

Without thinking, Chrissy accepts it, allowing herself to be pulled off the bench. Robin grins as she drops her hand, unaware that Chrissy is inexplicably missing the gentle warmth of her palm. “I’ll see you in class, Jason,” she says, waving before following Robin.

They’re half-way to the building when Robin says, “You should just tell them to shut up next time.”

Chrissy shrugs. “I don’t know. It was gross but easy to ignore,” she says. A few beats of silence pass before she adds, “You shouldn’t be so rough with Steve. He might think you don’t like him anymore.”

Robin falters, whipping her head around to look at Chrissy. “What?” she asks, her voice high and slightly strained.

It makes Chrissy think she’s stuck her nose where it doesn’t belong. She bites her bottom lip, watching as Robin’s eyes drop to the action before quickly rising again. “I just mean, well, he’s your boyfriend, right? You shouldn’t hurt him.”

Another beat of silence passes before Robin starts laughing so hard that she doubles over. She wheezes, holding her stomach and nearly losing strength in her legs before she calms down enough to stand up straight again. “We aren’t dating,” she says breathlessly, her cheeks flushed as she looks at Chrissy. “First of all, he’s way too high maintenance. Second of all, he’s only my platonic soulmate. We’re destined to be best friends. Nothing more. Third of all, I’m a gold star lesbian, Chrissy. I’m not exactly looking for dick.”

Oh. 

That’s…a lot to process. Chrissy blinks, letting everything run through her brain before she slowly nods. “Oh,” she says, her voice soft as she ducks through the door that Robin holds open for her. She waits just inside the school hall as Robin follows her in. “Sorry, I guess.”

“You’re okay with me being a lesbian?” Robin asks.

“Well, uh, are you gonna hit on me?” Chrissy asks back, making sure her tone is light and playful enough that Robin knows she’s joking.

Robin stares at her for a few seconds. “Only if you wanted me to,” she finally says, her tone surprisingly serious. Before Chrissy can respond, Robin smiles at her and easily changes the subject by saying, “Anyway, I’m kinda nervous after hearing the guys talk about Tommy and Carol.”

“Oh, yeah. It’s a little scary,” Chrissy says, her brain barely able to keep up with the change. “I’m not looking forward to being home alone tonight.”

“Want me to come over? I can bring a pizza and we can watch a movie,” Robin offers, her genuine smile telling Chrissy this isn’t a joke or some play on her comment about flirting.

It’s reassuring, actually. She wouldn’t want to invite Jason, since he’d look for reasons to have sex, and Robin is plenty nice. They’ve been hanging out more since she and Jason started dating. It was inevitable, really. Jason and Steve hang out because they’re on the basketball team together, so Robin and Chrissy would naturally cross paths.

“Yeah,” Chrissy says, her shoulders relaxing some as she smiles. “I’d appreciate that.”

“Totally,” Robin says, nodding once as her grin widens. “I’ll come over after work. I should be there around eight.”

Before Chrissy can say anything else, the bell rings, and she parts ways with Robin so she isn’t late to class.

[rox-of-iu]

ayoo guess who finally sat down and caught up with cultivate B)

is me. so you know what that means.

spoiler warning for cultivate ch 30-37

there was actually.... more things i wanted to draw but I already did so many I had to physically restrain myself hfsjkkdh anyway yes can you tell i love this fic very much

yet once again. cultivate by the wonderful @neonghostcat

[deadboydetectives-confessions]

I wish the show had been allowed to be more monster of the week. It's just not possible with an 8 episode format, but it would've been nice. I 100% would have watched 6 seasons as they slowly doled out information on back stories and motivations and how exactly the afterlife system works while the boys spend thirty+ years running around London sticking their nose into things.

.

[necrotic-nephilim]

what are your favourite batcest ships and why?

AAA i love this question so much. i'm going to limit myself to a top five, because otherwise, i'd just end up listing all of them. the true joy of batcest is they're all so good for such different reasons and there are so many unique dynamics you can explore.

JayTim - it's funny bc, before i started this blog, i don't know if i would've put these two losers as my number one. but because i've done so much deep diving into their dynamic and i write them the most, i think it'd be a disservice for them to be anything *but* number one. their canon dynamic is just. so fun to play with. i truly love all of their interactions, particularly pre-Flashpoint. the concepts of Tim holding such contempt for Jason while Jason is weirdly obsessed with Tim. i'm a fan of Hannibal and Killing Eve and well. if this isn't a Hannigram-coded ship idk *what* is. i like ships where love and hate co-exist and there's no real "happily ever after", just fucked up co-existing, where they crawl back to each other like a bad habit and really, this ship is that so perfectly. the themes of jealousy in the Robin mantle. Tim wearing Jason's Red Robin suit to punish himself. i will likely never shut up about them. even in the New-52, there's such a substance to them, though the dynamic is wildly different. they will always be so weirdly dependent on each other's existence. i love them.

BruDick - you can't outdo the doer, i fear. i think i like BruDick mostly for the history of it, yk. there's genuinely *so much* queer history seeped into the homoeroticism of Batman and Robin, these two have been a symbol for queer people for decades. but the ship itself has so many dynamics i love. problematic age gap, "are we family or lovers", "i can't be in a room alone with you without getting into a screaming match but if you called i drop everything for you". all of it. i especially favor 80s/90s BruDick when they were in their divorce era just because it's so messy. Dick has canonically said he would die for Bruce, even during their arguments. no matter what, these two will always be single-mindedly devoted to each other. there will be other Robins, but none of them will compare to Dick Grayson, for Bruce. it's a unique and complicated bond that has endless layers to peel back. they always crawl back to each other bc no one else will match their level of intensity.

DamiTim - years and years ago, when i was a teen trying to people-please with how i existed in fandom, i used to insist i didn't like batcest and found it icky and gross. but there was one DamiTim fic that was my exception. that fic was my fucking roman empire. i reread it like once a year even though it's not completed and likely never will be i do not care. so now that i've killed the morality police in my head and i let myself ship what i actually want to ship, this ship holds a top place in my heart just bc of that fic alone. but in general i do fucking love their dynamic. similar to JayTim there's just so much mutual hatred in these two that has endless potential. Damian's insistence to not see Tim as a Wayne and as a legitimate brother/heir to Bruce is something you can play a lot if you give Damian an angry, fucked up crush on Tim he doesn't want to admit to. they have so many reasons to dislike each other, so to try to get them to slowly fall in love is a fun challenge. they either have a long complicated forgiveness arc and end up a happy married couple or they are the couple that tries to kill each other once a week. no in-between.

JeanTim - there's like. one person here on tumblr who goes as hard for this ship as i do and truly god bless them bc they feed me. Jean-Paul is too underrated in the batcest scene. once i reread Knightfall, i will have to help popular this tag on ao3. i enjoy both a very fucked up version of this ship during the peak of the Knightfall arc, where Jean-Paul is deep in his murder Batman era and Tim is trying to stop him to no real avail, but i *also* think there's so much you can do with the ship afterwards, where Jean-Paul is trying to make up for what he's done and be a better person and better hero. they're the peak Batman/Robin ship, to me. they truly care about each other, but have a very complicated/bloody history and i just. man i love it so dearly. i've been meaning to write a fic where Jean-Paul goes to Tim post the Sword of Azrael (2022) arc to properly discuss and apologize for all his actions in Knightfall for his personal healing and they end up fucking. it could be sweet and cute or kinky fun bc what is the joy of a character with that much Catholic guilt if you don't give them a weird religious kink.

BruCarrie - The Dark Knight Returns got me into comics and i will defend it till the day i die. Carrie Kelley can be pried from my cold dead hands. i just really love these two? Carrie took one look at that cranky old bastard and decided she was his problem. and Bruce is at a stage where he should be very averse to the idea of having a Robin, he knows it's a bad idea. but he just. accepts her anyway. idk how to explain their dynamic other than she plunks herself in his lap and stitches up his wounds while telling him he's an idiot and he lets her even if he's grumbling about it. they have the biggest age gap of any Batman/Robin ship and for that, they should get like. a dead dove gold star no matter how rare the pair is.

also honorable mention goes to BruTim, because *god* do i love the concept of Tim offering himself up to Bruce as Robin in every way, knowing that there are likely sexual/romantic implications to being Robin. it's one of my favorite flavors of batcest to exist. i don't view them as a "happily ever after" ship, because Bruce will always go back home to Dick, but it's a fun lil dead dove moment.

[cerulean-fantasy]

🌙🌃

[lemonerix]

elibarra posting?? in 2024??

[a-scary-lack-of-common-sense]

I am exhausted, good heavens.

[sealrock]

tell me, what makes a human?