#The Master’s House

[fshoulders]

Hate to be the odd cis woman who can’t stop thinking about Ancient Rome, but…if you think misogyny cannot affect people who aren’t female, I invite you to take a Roman history class. Or just read Plutarch’s Lives.

There are two sticks* that are used to beat men with and try to make them conform to a largely unattainable (and under Empire, increasingly unrewarding) ideal of Roman Manhood. One is “Eastern/Greek/effete”. The other is “womanly”. They are absolutely cut from the same tree, and you can see how one amplifies into the other. Look at the widespread story that Julius Caesar bottomed for King Nicomedes (the Romans differentiated a man penetrating another man — not approved of, but just pervy and outré — and being penetrated and thus totally disgraced, debased, and ruined), shorthanded in the epithet ‘Queen of Bithynia’. You might also look at the elaborate stories where Cleopatra (an Eastern, ethnically Greek, sexually aggressive woman in power, the nightmare!) not only made Mark Anthony abandon Rome and Romanness, but unmanned him through cross-dressing, et cetera. These stories are probably made up, but they’re made up to demonstrate values, and lack thereof: this is what a man shouldn’t be. This is why Catullus responded to ‘kinda girly of you to write poetry’…the way he did. (Content note on Catullus 16 for rape threats!)

The worst thing a man can be, according to Roman culture, is a woman. Rome is in the DNA of the modern (imperial!) world. And misogyny still works this way.

The idea that misogyny, ‘the hatred of women’ — the poisoned tree around which patriarchy’s house is built, its family lineage, its root and foundation — can only be used against women, or against people you recognize as women by your own criteria, is astonishingly blinkered. It assures you will continue living in the ashes of the master’s hearth forever. This doesn’t mean that misogyny stops hurting women for a moment. We’re still the stick. When the blow lands, the ‘woman’ stick and the beaten target both feel the impact!

But it does mean that if we want to uproot the tree of patriarchy and stop living in its noisome shadow, cis and trans women need to ally with trans men, with men who have sex with men, with gender-non-conforming men, with men with girly hobbies, with people who are men maybe twice a week, with people who default to ‘woman’ or ‘man’ but don’t really feel it strongly, with non-binary people, with every erased gender, with none-of-the-aboves. With everyone who’s willing to acknowledge the bruises of patriarchy on their flesh and say ‘no more’. It’s going to take, not a village; but the scum, underclass, rebels, dreamers, and discontents of an entire world-empire.

If that makes you feel less SPECIAL? That misogyny permeates a system of oppression that hurts basically everyone? Then maybe you only wanted to feel special, and didn’t want to attack the root at all. That doesn’t sound very radical.

[pandoratheprocrasticreator]

like honestly just give your non binary characters traditionally "gendered" features. just do it. it's not like being androgynous ever stopped non binary characters from being misgendered.

frisk undertale and kris deltarune were androgynous and are only ever referred to by "they/them" and ppl are still arguing over how the "main character is not the player but their own person" message didn't apply to their genders bc they refuse to wrap their head around different pronouns. raine owlhouse was paraded around as "disney's first ever nb representation" by everyone and their mother but bc they have short hair other countries dub them as male. this also happens to most anime nb characters bc of how japanese pronouns work. halara raincode literally has the color scheme of the non binary flag AND their in-game profile says that they, and i quote "have no specified gender" AND several characters remark on it in the actual game but bc theyre voiced by a female voice actor ppl still call them a woman.

like literally at this point just give your nb characters huge tits and a massive beard. if ppl refuse to accept the existence of non binary characters in media, then there is no way to make a character non binary "enough" to convince them otherwise. no matter how much you hammer in their androgyny in an attempt to detach them from "male" and "female," there will be people determined to assign gender roles to any trait you give your character.

creators being hesitant to give their non binary characters traits that could be associated with a binary gender is why every goddamn genderqueer character that the creator wants you to take seriously in popular media has shoulder length hair and a board-flat figure and a perfectly neutrally pitched voice. like. just do what you want at this point. the character is non binary because your story said so and people who misgender them would have done that no matter how androgynous they look.

[muguathepapaya]

It’s Master Katara

After one too many officials dismiss Katara, she gives a friendly reminder :]

[sualne]

mithrun sketch to celebrate

[tsukii0002]

Luke and MC are having a movie night in the living room of the House of Lamentations, when they hear noises.

Luke: *hugging Mc* What was that??!

Mc: Oh, don't worry, it's the time when the middle and left head of Cerberus are fighting with the right head.

Luke: Oh… What is that????!!!!

Mc: *laughing* Levi bought a new game *looking at the clock* he should be on the hardest level.

Luke: Okay… He, he What- what's that noise??!!!!!

Mc: *looking down at the ground* A giant spider, they've been making their way around lately, Lucifer is really pissed off.

Luke: What *about to cry* What was that?

Mc: Oh, it's just Beel *pointing to the ceiling* hi Beel.

Beel: *hooked upside down to the ceiling* Hi Mc, hi Luke.

Mc: *whispering* It's one of his nighttime snack.

Luke: *shivering* I think next time we'll go to Purgatory hall.

.

.

[nipuni]

THE DOCTOR We had a pact, him and me. Every star in the universe, we were going to see them all.

My version of The Master and The Doctor in their Academy days 😊

A speedpaint video of this will be available at my Patreon on april 1st!

[flamingpudding]

Hotel Fenton

Red Hood stared at the building that seemingly appeared out of nowhere in Crime Alley. Below his mask his eye twitched at the very elaborated and very bright shining and blinking sign on the buildings wall spelling out 'HOTEL FENTON' though it looked like the word 'HOTEL' had only been added recently. The building in itself was also strange. Red Hood was pretty sure no one would actually willingly step into a building like that.

"Are you seriously expecting to investigate this shit?" He muttered into the coms, knowing perfectly well that his brothers were watching through the integrated helm camera.

"Yep. You lost the draw." Nightwing sang from the other end of the com line. Red Hood was going to glitter bomb his Appartement later. He grumbled something inaudible once more before taking another step towards that strange building. But froze before he even set his foot completely on the ground.

A scream echoed through the building. His hand instantly went to the gun buy his side. Then a crash. Wide eyed Red Hood watched how a chair came sailing out of one destroyed window. More shouting followed now clearer. Someone was complaining loudly and...

He took a step back from the building as fire sprouted out of the broken window but before he could even tell his siblings to send back up the fire got extinguished by a sudden block of ice growing out of the window. Red Hood blinked, muttering a half hearted "Did you guys see that too..." Into his coms before the slam of the entrance door to the Building caught his attention and he came face to face with a little girl that had obviously slammed the door she was leaning against.

They stared at each other for a moment before the girl dusted herself off and grinned.

"Hi! Welcome to Hotel Fenton the place to stay for Ghosts, Shades, Undead and More! We are a little preoccupied with a some of our current guests but I am sure there is still an open place for a fellow undead and halfa in the making!"

Red Hood's eyes narrowed under his mask but before he could ask anything, a fucking man that had vague similarities to Bruce crashed through the wall cool-aid way with a good damn Talon in his arms that was obviously trying to gnaw on the arm holding it, a second man followed close behind floating and shouting vehemently that "JACK THAT IS NOT PLAY FIGHTING YOU DUMBASS! IT'S TRYING TO MAIM YOU!"

There was only one thought went through Red Hoods head at that moment, his sibling perfectly echoed over the coms.

"What the fuck?"

[triptychofvoids]

dont ask me about the context for this, there is context i just think its funnier without any

[rileyclaw]

willow... rollerskating.... also rip the boys i guess

[thankstothe]

|L|I|N|E|S|

[greenglowinspooks]

(DCxDP) The obligations of a rogue versus those of a parent (Pt. 4)

—

Tw: descriptions of body horror, Dr. Crane has PTSD and Does Not Realize, Crane has an actual panic attack and just doesn’t care, the Riddler makes one (1) sex joke about Batman

Will be crossposted to AO3 eventually

(Pt. 1 here) (Prev here) - (Pt. 5 here)

(Masterlist here)

—

Dr. Jonathan Crane is in his lab, the acrid scent of chemicals filling the air, and his hands are shaking.

Danny’s health, for the first week that he had him, had been steadily improving at an extremely quick rate. However, his healing had begun to stagnate. Danny said that it was because his body had run out of ectoplasm, and that while there was a lot of ambient ectoplasm in Gotham, he needed a stronger type in order to heal.

And so, that led Dr. Crane here.

He had stolen the research notes from the Penguin years ago regarding his experimentation on him.

(He quite vividly remembers the sound of bone creaking and groaning as it twisted, lengthened. The squelching of shifting tendons and muscles, the strange fabric-like tightening of skin. The feeling of going from man to monster, of losing all claim to his humanity.)

Danny had called him Liminal, part ghost. He had said that he was transformed by, among other things, a kind of synthetic ectoplasm.

Danny needed ectoplasm.

Crane had the research notes. He had every ingredient necessary. And yet, attempt after attempt failed.

The chemical smell burns his nose. His hands tremble.

Dr. Crane is not afraid.

He doesn’t feel fear anymore. He’s tried to, many, many times, but nothing has worked. And yet, his hands are shaking still.

(The horrifying sensation of vertebrae pop-pop-popping along his spine, growing and lengthening. The unbearable itching beneath his skin as toxin glands begin to form. The feeling of his teeth sharpening and elongating, of his skull growing, of his vision changing and brightening. The awful stench of chemicals. The awful stench of ectoplasm.)

Jonathan takes careful note of his shaking hands, his blurring vision, his accelerated heart-rate and shallow breathing.

(Human hands. Human vision. Human heart and lungs and organs.)

He takes note of them, but he does not let that distract him from the task at hand. Danny is not a chemist, but Jonathan is.

The boy knows enough about chemistry in theory, but he won’t go anywhere near Crane’s equipment. He seems to have some sort of intense fear of laboratory settings, probably developed during his stay with the GiW, and Crane is willing to respect that, if only because he cannot afford to lose him.

As such, Crane is the only one qualified to do this. And, unfortunately, if he isn’t successful the boy may very well die.

He heats the chemicals to precisely the right temperatures, adding each one to its correct container.

Dr. Crane thinks of the Scarebeast, that creature born of cruelty and greed and a sense of superiority. That creature which he tries to ignore is a part of him, that can never be removed. A damage which cannot be undone.

He pours the contents of a small beaker into a larger flask, watching the liquids swirl together. The stench in the air is becoming closer and closer to the one burned into his memory.

Crane’s whole body is wracked with unpleasant sensations. It’s truly unfortunate, he thinks, that despite his mind’s lack of fear, his body still reacts so harshly.

Jonathan’s eyes wander, eventually settling on a purple and green card sitting innocently on the corner of the table.

Right.

Even if they wiped out the GiW tomorrow, and even if Danny could survive without ectoplasm, he would still be in danger.

Crane has to get him back to good health. It’s the only way he can be sure that the boy can defend himself properly.

The solution in the flask begins to foam, and Jonathan does not hesitate as he adds the final ingredient. He pours the mixture into a new container, capping it and placing it into a freezer set to -40 degrees.

Hopefully this time he got the timing right.

Jonathan tries to relax, the ventilation in the room slowly but surely clearing the familiar smell from the air.

He thinks of the letter.

Surely, he thinks, that man can come up with some better material for his jokes. Or, at least something new.

Same old threats, same old attempted poisoning.

Aiming his threats at Danny, though, that was new. New and utterly unacceptable.

Scarecrow did what he had to.

He doubted that his solution would last forever, of course, as with that man it never did. As such, he would prepare both himself and Danny for the inevitable moment that his choices came back to bite them.

However, for the moment, they were safe. Danny could rest and recover, and Jonathan could figure out a plan to minimize possible damages.

Jonathan is no longer shaking.

He’s exhausted. This is his fifth attempt today, and each one leaves an unfortunate strain on his mind and body.

With a sigh, he settles himself into his seat at a nearby desk, opening up his computer and logging his most recent attempt. He still has to wait for it to chill to know if it was successful, but he can always update the logs later.

Once he’s done, he stretches, joints popping loudly as he walks to the freezer.

When he sees the results of his tireless work, the ghost of a smile flits across his face.

Success.

Jonathan picks up the jug of ectoplasm and leaves the lab, which is in all actuality the basement of the new apartment that he moved himself and Danny into after receiving the note. The scrappy old woman who was his landlord had told him that as long as he paid her five hundred dollars up front, she would let him set up in the basement without any questions or cop calls.

And so, the most expensive apartment in the Narrows was his.

At least, he thought, the distance between the basement and the apartment was short enough that Danny didn’t have to sit in while he was doing his labwork.

Jonathan knew that he didn’t exactly have a strong grasp on the concept of ‘lab safety,’ proven by his built-up immunity to almost every toxic chemical he’d ever encountered, and he doubted that Danny should be around such an environment.

He was back to the apartment quickly, not bothering to hide the self-satisfied smile on his face. Danny is sitting in his armchair, trying to read one of his books. Danny looks up, ready to greet him, when he sees the jug in his hands and pauses.

“Is that..?”

“Synthetic ectoplasm,” Jonathan says proudly, “I found the Penguin’s research notes and decided to recreate it, since you said that you needed it to heal properly. I’m not sure if it’ll work the same as what you usually have, but I hope it’s helpful all the same.”

Danny is standing, now, and looking at Jonathan with a strange look in his eyes. He looks, Jon thinks, like he’s about to cry.

Then Danny is rushing forward and wrapping his arms around Jonathan, his scrawny form shaking.

Jonathan is, for a moment, horrified. Did he do something wrong somehow? Why is this child, who’s so afraid of touch, hugging him?

And then he hears Danny’s voice, and he knows that it was all worth it.

“Thank you,” he’s mumbling, over and over, “thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you so much.”

“Of course,” Jonathan says softly, because what else can he say?

The boy cries in his arms for a while, and Jonathan briefly wonders what his life must have been like before, if a person like him can be seen as a comforting figure.

Then, Danny pours himself a small glass of the synthetic ectoplasm, putting the rest into the small fridge which had come with the apartment, and he settles back down, sitting in the armchair once again.

Jonathan sits opposite of him, and they chat with one another as Danny drinks.

Danny talks to him about the stars and tells him about different spaceships, and Jonathan makes sure to pay attention and ask the boy questions.

He doesn’t miss the way that Danny lights up every time he asks him something about his interests. He’s so passionate, so smart, a trait that he seldom sees outside of his fellow rogues, and Jonathan wants to encourage that.

It’s…nice. Peaceful, almost.

And then the front door flies open, because Jonathan isn’t allowed to have nice things.

“Jon,” a familiar voice rings out, “what the hell?!”

Danny is frozen in place, clearly terrified.

Jonathan heaves a sigh, turning to face the nuisance who’s entered his apartment.

“Eddie,” he drawls, “to what do I owe the pleasure?”

Edward’s face is red with anger as he invades Jonathan’s apartment.

“Oh, I don’t know! Maybe it’s the fact that you sent a bunch of rogues a cryptic message and then dropped off the face of the earth for two weeks! I was worried, Jon!”

Jonathan hums in acknowledgement.

“I didn’t think it was that cryptic,” he says, picking up a book in order to pointedly ignore the Riddler.

“Oh, of course you didn’t, you straw-stuffed hickory dickory dickhead. I swear, you’re always—” he pauses, finally having noticed Danny sitting opposite of Jonathan, “—who is this?”

“My apprentice,” Jonathan replies, dreading the upcoming headache he was no doubt going to develop from Edward’s company, “he’s helping me hunt down the GiW. His name is Danny.”

Edward gasps dramatically.

“You—an apprentice?! And you’re letting him sit in the old man chair?! You don’t even let me sit in the old man chair,” he wails, draping himself over the headrest of the couch with a flourish, “Jonathan, I thought I knew you!”

“Edward,” Jonathan says, “get out of my apartment.”

“Oh my goodness, this is incredible. You’re becoming the bat!”

“I am not becoming the bat, Eddie, now get out.”

Edward has a shit-eating grin on his face as he waltzes over to Danny. Danny, who seemed terrified when he first appeared, is now looking at him with obvious amusement written all over his face.

“I mean, look at him! The hair, the eyes, the scrappy build. If you put him in one of those traffic light vigilante costumes, he could easily pass as a Robin!”

“I’m not doing this with you today, Eddie.”

“Riddle me this, Jon: I am a treasure hidden inside of a chest. You can break me, or steal me, or give me a rest. I can flutter, or pound, or attack, or drop, but if you don’t have me, you’re certainly fucked. What am I?”

Jonathan pauses for a moment before he groans, dropping his head into his hands.

“Eddie.”

Danny sits still, a confused look on his face as he repeats the riddle silently. Then, his face lights up in delight.

“A heart!”

“Jon, I like this one,” Edward says with a smile, ruffling Danny’s hair, “you are correct! A heart, something that I wasn’t aware that our dear Jonathan had!”

“Eddie, stop.”

“No, no,” Edward says, “I was worried about you, you deserve this. I mean, you even missed girls night! You never miss girls night!”

“Girls night?” Danny asks, absolutely delighted.

“Oh, of course,” Edward says, sprawling over on the couch, dangerously close to just laying in Jonathan’s lap, “we have it once a week. I’m invited because of Selina and Jon’s invited because Harley likes him.”

“And what does girls night entail, exactly?”

“Eddie,” Jonathan groans, “please.”

“Well,” Edward hums, “we usually paint our nails, or watch a movie, or gossip about the other rogues, and occasionally, we tell each other about any ‘encounters’ we have with Batman,” he says, raising his eyebrows up and down.

Danny’s jaw drops.

“Edward, shut up,” Jonathan says, an irritated tone in his voice that wasn’t there before.

“No way,” Danny says, “I thought that Batman, like, hated you guys or something. You mean he actually..?”

“Oh, the Bat is much like a bottle of liquor or a cheap cigarette, in that he was made to be passed around.”

Danny chokes on air.

“Edward Nygma,” Jonathan hisses, getting out of his seat and looming over the man, “get the hell out.”

Edward pales.

“Leaving, leaving!” Edward says, dashing away from Jonathan. He pauses, turning to flash Danny a quick smile.

“Remember Danny, I’m your favorite uncle! Not any of the other rogues, me!”

With that, he leaves, the room falling completely silent.

And, as per usual, that silence does not last.

“You full-named him?” Danny asks gleefully, “and it worked?”

Jonathan just sighs, sitting down on the couch and rubbing at his temples.

“Please, don’t take anything Eddie says seriously. He’s a moron.”

“Dr. Crane, please let me come to girls night with you,” Danny pleads, his eyes sparkling, “I promise I won’t embarrass you.”

Jonathan groans.

“Of course you won’t, Eddie will do it for you.”

“Come on, please?”

“I think we’re a bit busy with the GiW at the moment,” Jonathan snaps. He pauses as he notices the crestfallen expression on Danny’s face.

This boy is going to be the death of him.

“Perhaps, though, when all that is taken care of…”

Danny cheers, grinning wildly, and Jonathan is not at all relieved to see him happy again. Certainly not.

The rest of the day is relatively normal.

Danny works on trying to get information from the GiW database while Crane refines his his fear toxin, both preparing for a raid on the GiW base they located in Gotham.

It was only a temporary base, nothing of note, but there was a chance of discovering more bases through it, and that wasn’t something either of them were willing to give up.

Still, something like this would take time. Rushing would only lead to failure.

…

Late in the night, long after Danny is fast asleep in his room, Jonathan pauses.

The GiW are not the only threat out there. They aren’t the only threat to him or to Danny. Perhaps it could be helpful to reach out to someone with greater resources than himself.

He sends a quick message to Red Hood.

Hopefully, he thinks, everything will go smoothly.

—

[starlightseraph]

“he’s my babygirl” *i point to the strangest little guy you’ve ever seen*

[birdyboyhouse]

[vm-haunts]

Make Love Not War... Or Something Like That

During yet another hindbrained plot from Vlad to get to Maddie, a frustrated Danny yelled "Start a polycue you coward! What even is your problem!!!"

He's not expecting the blue screened look on Vlad. Or the blush. Ewwww not the blush he's gonna throw up-

...

Well the good news is Vlad stopped trying to off his dad. The bad news is he wanna woo him instead.

Danny is gonna die again.

Vlad, having a heart to heart with Danny that makes him squirm: it's not that I... but how can...The portal incident ruined my life and Jack is so-

Danny: pfft skill issue, Sam and Tucker dared me into the first accident and you don't see me complaining.

Vlad, indignant then alarmed: it's not the- wait first?

Danny: yeah? She dared me into it again a second time too. Desiree, you know how it is.

Vlad:

[motorway-south]

last eps larycent scene was just him coming into her space to snoop like "i support you pursuing pleasures of the flesh WHERE EVER you may find them oh do you like your bf? just checking. i love a girl who reads btw. reminder that i am your intellectual equal and your boyfriend is suicide bombing the riverlands :) food for thought"

[naboosands]

I was rewatching the Ahsoka trailer and I thought Master Plo would have some comments about her Stance™️

(More on Things That Are Definitely Going To Happen In The Ahsoka Show)