#Type shit I been on

[hoffman-bossman]

me n gang

All the Homies love Peter Strahm

[realbeefman]

when will charlie and the waitress scissor onscreen

[ruporas]

trigunned the hades or hadesed the trigun (id in alt)

[usercelestial]

to be honest, the ending wasn't my problem. it's not a horrible way to end a show that has primarily been about a dysfunctional but loving family trying and failing to stop the apocalypse. having that family die to save the world but die together and willingly and in the end be reincarnated (ish?) as flowers under the same tree, i think that's really beautiful in a way. it's the details that fuck with me. five and lila are an insane choice, no resolution for sloane, everyone kind of just fucking off and having stories with no payoff that don't actually build to anything, ray just walking out, etc. like the last few minutes weren't the worst, it's really just everything leading up to those moments that were at best highly questionable

[rubensmuse]

brennan lee mulligan has to do comedy with that name bc he was born too late to be a presidential assassin

[saturnstrays]

Its in the name luv 💗

[kettlefire]

Prepare for the unexpected. (DPxDC)

Everyone knew about the reign of Pariah Dark. Even those who did not dabble in those realms have heard the tale of the tyrant. A power-hungry man who ruled over the dead with an iron fist.

Following the rise of Pariah Dark, his realm had been effectively cut off from communication. Many mystics and magic users knew better than to open the door of nightmares that could arise if Pariah Dark's reach went further than his own realm.

Except, the universe had plans to bring the realm of the dead back into the cards.

A new opponent, one that had all of Earth's heroes scrambling for options. A being with powers of a god over weather, destruction was on the horizon. A world ending threat.

It's the only reason the Justice League was doing this. In a deep bunker, far from close civilization as a precaution, the heroes looked on with grim expressions.

The world was already being threatened. It would be destroyed regardless of what the league did. So it only made sense to make the last ditch effort. To summon someone strong enough to defeat the threat.

No one wanted to do it. No one wanted to be the one to pull the realm of the dead back to the living. The consequences were untold if this succeeded. If Pariah Dark was freed and defeated the threat, whose to say he won't want control?

That was a problem for later. For the aftermath. For now, the league could only watch on with bated breath as Constantine completely the summon ritual.

They watched on as the shadows in the room seemed to darken and grow. As the sigil sputtered to life with a glow that was growing increasingly brighter. A sudden gust of wind rushed through the room, the temperature began to drop with eaching ticking second.

And then it was all gone.

The room stood perfectly still. Just as it had been moments before. Nothing changed. No giant king standing before them, no sign that the ritual worked.

The room stood deadly still for another beat before the murmurs started. The team trying to make sense of the situation, figure out what went wrong.

Constantine swore up and down that this was the correct ritual, taking offense that they would even think the problem was on his end. It only made it better when it finally happened.

A loud sound ripped through the room, pulling everyone's attention back to the summoning circle. Just in time to see a tear appear in the space above the circle.

A thin tear that ran the length of eight feet. The fabric of the dimension seems to curl at the edges, pulling back to reveal a deep glowing swirl of greens. A dark gloved hand reached through, fingers curling around the edge of the tear, stretching it even further.

A portal. The ritual had worked, but there had been a delay. A delay that had every hero nerves on edge. Each team member tensed, weapons at the ready as they watched the being stretch the portal to the right size.

Then, a foot stepped out with a heavy thud. A dark boot that looked otherworldly despite its similarity to mortal clothing. A deep black that seemed never-ending. A second foot quickly followed before a full body emerged from the portal.

Not many people in the room have ever seen Pariah Dark, let alone know what to expect. Based on what Constantine and Zatara had said, this wasn't Pariah Dark.

A man had stepped out of the portal, standing at almost seven feet tall, and built like a brick house. One glance at the glowing white hair, deadly red eyes, and shard teeth was enough to know this being was not to be messed with.

But there was no giant show of armor or royal garbs. There is no large crown at the top of his head or jewelry from the infinite realms laced around his neck.

Instead, the man stood before them in combat boots, worn-in ripped jeans, a graphic t-shirt, and a spiked leather jacket. Despite his almost normal clothing choice, the man's jacket seemed to be a never-ending depth of the dark night sky. If one was to look closely enough, the cosmos could almost be made out in the sea of darkness.

None of that would have prepared them for when the man spoke. His tone sounded more bored than anything as he took a step forward.

"Oh, so now you need the help of the dead." The man had spoken, running a hand through his hair. When Batman took a step forward to speak, the man raised a hand. Immediately commanding silence in the single gesture. "I'm on babysitting duty and have yet to have a cup of coffee. I'll be right back."

Just like that, both the man and portal vanished into thin air. Leaving behind a group of stunned heroes. Not only was the man not Pariah Dark, but he was also supposedly babysitting.

"Did that just-"

The Flash had been the first voice to speak up, his eyes trained on where the man had once stood. Except he had barely made it through the first few words before the man was suddenly back.

The man that now had a child hanging off his shoulders and another teen being held up by his scruff. Unlike the man, these kids looked human.

Too human for Bruce's liking. The dark black hair and bright blue eyes had every heroes eyes flickering to Batman for just the briefest moment.

"This isn't fair! I'm not even the king. Why do I have to be here!" The teenager had been complaining the moment the man had reappeared. Arms crossed tight over his chest and seemingly used to being held dangling. "Besides, who brings kids to a show down! Wait til I tell mom about this."

"Aw, come on, Danny. This is gonna be fun!!" The younger girl seemed in much better spirits than the teen, Danny. She had climbed up the large man, sitting on his shoulders and resting her arms on the mess of glowing hair. "It's like take your kids to work day! Ooo, Dan! Can we fight too!?"

Unlike the two kids, the man looked purely exhausted and annoyed. The man, Dan, dropped Danny like a sack of potatoes as he took a long drink from the travel cup in his hand.

It didn't take a genius to recognize the look of an exhausted parent in Dan's expression. A look many of the league members were well acquainted to. A look that even had Batman grimacing with sympathy.

"Can it, little shits. You two were grounded, remember." Dan had growled at the kids before shifting his focus back on the team of heroes before them. His glowing eyes set in a deadly glare. "Pariah Dark isn't coming, and he never will. He's been dethroned and banished. We're the best you've got."

A summoning that started with a group of on edge and scared heroes looking for the ghost king, ended in a way no one expected.

No one was even sure if it made any sense. They weren't sure if they should feel hopeful or in despair.

Because truly, what was a ghostly man with two seemingly human children against a godlike foe with the control over the weather?

The unspoken question of power and ability seemed to vanish following Dan downing the metal travel cup of coffee, and crushing it in his fist.

He tossed it to the side, straighting up his posture as he looked over the heroes. Dan might not be a hero, but he's been playing family for too long.

An almost feral, bloodhungry grin spread across the man's face, sharp fangs on full display. The look made the man suddenly look even less human. He looked closer to a demon from the pits of hell rather than the exhausted parent he looked just a few seconds ago.

"Point me in the direction of this bastard. It's been too long since I let loose and had some fun."

[moonlightcycle571]

Wouldn’t it be funny if Billy could only give powers to one person at a time, so the Vasquez kids take turns being Captain Marvel Junior (as they still look like kids) and they make everyone thinks it’s one shape shifting child.

Reporter: Captain Marvel, who is this new protoge worth you?

Marvel: you’ve met Junior though?

Mary, who wanted to take over: yeah we talked last week.

Reporter: ah what

At first it’s just Mary and Freddy (mostly Freddy cause he’s really into being a superhero) so everyone thinks Captain Marvel Junior is a shape shifting gender fluid kid and Marvel is a supportive dad.

But then the other Vasquez’s join in the fun

Reporter: Captain, new protoge?

Eugene, in it for shots and giggles: Claire, it’s me, Junior

Reporter: … you’re Asian now?

Eugene: woooooowww

Marvel: that’s low even for you

Reportee: but I-

Eugene: Both Captain and I have lived lives of many genders, colours and have been in many cultures. And yet you shame me for feeling nostalgic and reverting to an ancient form of mine.

Reporter: I- w h a t

It’s sparks a lot of debate of cultural appropriation for shapeshifters in general, with a lot of people invoking Martian Manhunter, fae and other shapeshifters. So naturally Pedro steps up

Captain Marvel and Junior both volunteering at a homeless shelter.

Reporter: … junior?

Pedro: yes?

Reporter: what are you doing

Pedro, making an ancient Mexican recipe he got from the Library in the Rock: making a dish I learned a couple of centuries ago from my then family.

Reporter, really doesn’t want to get cancelled: ok

Naturally this takes a lot of coordination, and a lot of people test them by giving info to one kid, and different info to the other. Solomon sees right through them cause the divine group chat is connected to Billy and the chosen Junior. Things were starting to chill for a bit. Then Darla joined in.

Darla, visibly younger than the other forms: Hi :D

Reporter: why do you keep getting younger and younger???

Darla: :3

At this point the reporter is so done. Are you a child with a lightning emblem on you? You are Captain Marvel Junior. And it seems to work most of the time.

Billy: *gets deaged as Cap*

Reporter: oh junior! New form? This one looks closer to Cap!

Billy: I’m not Junior???

Reporter: *bluescreens*

Bonus:

In a Justice League Meeting

Flash: So is Junior like a mantle? If so why is it only one kid at a time?

Hal: yeah, what do the others do when you take one at a time?

Billy, an absolute troll at heart: what do you mean, it’s the one kid?

Superman: what???

Billy: yeah so Junior hasn’t settled into which form they like the best and switch it up. I think they like it better that way.

Martian Manhunter, troll n2: *nods along* finding ones main form is an important part of self discovery. On Mars, many like to alternate between forms as they could not be tied down to one.

JL: ah

Bonus 2:

Batman: *slowly puts away the ‘Not An Adoption Problem’ Support Group invite*

Bonus 3:

Dudley: please please please please

Billy, fed up: WHY

Dudley: it’ll be so funny.

Billy: you know what, fine!

Later Dudley is given some powers but decides to only let the Reporter see him.

Reporter: … Junior????

Dudley: no one will ever believe you *flies off*

[giantkillerjack]

Me: hm, I want something to put on the TV as background noise... Huh. Looks like YouTube is recommending something called The Last Unicorn. That's perfect, it's probably some old shitty animation that has aged poorly! I can watch it ironically!

Me, 2 hours later as the credits roll: *crying, cheering, buying the book, composing the songs*

Me, 2 weeks later: So I have compiled all of the quotes from the book that I think could make good tattoos, and also, HOW HAVE I NEVER LEARNED ABOUT HOW THE LAST UNICORN FUCKING SLAPS??? This gay-ass little fairytale fed my soul! Watered my crops! Transed my gender! Can't believe I heard of this story from youtube recommendations, of all places!!

[cyberpunkboytoy]

I see a lot of people in the Mouthwashing tag frequently listing 'keeping Curly alive' in the list of crimes Jimmy has done, implying or sometimes outright saying that not mercy-killing Curly was a cruel and unusual act...and would like to caution against that.

There's a long history of abled people deciding someone's quality of life is too horrible to merit letting them live (usually to nonverbal or otherwise 'low functioning' people lacking a clear means to communicate) and condoning the murder of disabled people under the guise of kindness. Curly is an extreme example, and one could argue he might prefer to be 'put out of his misery,' but it's important to note that we don't know, no one asks, and there's no attempt to communicate either which way.

How extreme pain and 'low quality of life' are handled are very nuanced and complicated topics, but you can never decide for someone else what kind of life isn't 'worth living.' Curly is obviously a videogame character, but these attitudes can and do affect the lives of real people & are worth being aware of.

[bunnyboy-juice]

NO MORE ASSOCIATING THINGS WITH FEMMES ONLY BECAUSE THEY ARE PINK!HYPERFEM FEMMES ARE GREAT AND I LOVE YOU CAMPY FEMMES WHO EMBODY PINK BUT ALSO JESUS CHRIST CAN YOU GUYS NOT GO MORE THAN ONE DAY W/O TRYING TO SHOEHORN FEMMES INTO BEING ONLY PINK UWU BABIES. I AM FEMME AS IN GRASS AS IN DIRT AS IN TREE BARK AS IN WEEDS SPROUTING THROUGH THE SIDEWALK CEMENT. FEMME AS IN GENDER NONCONFORMITY AS IN FUCK YOU MY FEMININITY IS WHAT *I* SAY IT IS. FEMME AS IN DEPTH AND DARKNESS AND WARMTH AND TERROR. FEMME AS IN CAVES. FEMME AS IN LIGHTNING. FEMME AS IN AN AMALGAMATION OF TRAITS THAT I HAVE DECIDED ARE FEMININE REGARDLESS OF WHAT SOCIETY SAYS. FUCK IS IT THAT HARD TO UNDERSTAND?!???

[sunlit-mess]

best friend day but it's my #1 hater

[catcze]

Spoilers for Wriothesley's backstory !! References to leaks of his backstory !!

When Wriothesley was younger and homeless on the streets of Fontaine, an orphan who ran from his foster home to fend for himself, there was no one for him to rely on. It was a dog-eat-dog world, and putting your trust in the wrong person could result in lying facedown in a ditch, just another casualty of the city.

Wriothesley was prepared to fight for himself for the rest of his life. Was prepared to sleep with one eye open, and ready to get stabbed in the back at any second. Everyone around him wouldn't cast him a second glance and wouldn't offer him a shred of help.

No one, maybe, except for you.

You were around his age— that much was evident from the first day he met you, when you found him crouched in an alleyway half-starved and soaked through by the rain. You were kind, if the umbrella you covered his head with was any indication. You had gotten soaked yourself, but you still smiled at him and told him to keep it, that he needed it more.

And lastly: you were born into good, good money. He found that out the next day when you bought him a packaged meal of warm meats and bread. Although he was hesitant to accept your kindness, cautious of what price you would attach to such a thing, the grumbling of his stomach won out and he finished the whole meal in less than five minutes. It was one of the best things he had ever tasted.

You said nothing as you sat beside him, uncaring of how the dirt of the sidewalk stained your clothes. When he was finished, you offered him a bottle of water. As he chugged it down, you gave him your first name, and when he hesitated to tell you his, you smiled and shook your head.

"It's fine, you don't have to tell me," you told him with a slight smile. And that was that.

From then on, you find him every few days at the same spot. He doesn't talk much, you discover, but he's always willing to listen to you talk. Anything under the sun— your lessons, your absent parents, the droves of socialites who try to butter you up with hollow words and false admiration— you can ramble about it for hours and hours and he'll sit beside you, interjecting on occasion, but generally letting you take the lead in conversation.

Once, you brought him a canister filled with tea, and watched as his eyes lit up at his first taste.

"This is some really good stuff," he told you, awe in his voice, already going for a second sip. You smile, seeing him so pleased.

"I'll bring you more next time. I'll try to make a different brew, too, to see if you'd like that even more."

When he gets scuffed from street fights, you're there to patch him up. Clumsily at first, with a furrowed brow and tangled strips of bandages, but you get better and better at it over time. He doesn't reject the help, and you don't scold him for getting hurt. It is times like these where your hands —only calloused by the grip of a pen and nothing more, unlike his that are so scarred and rough— make you both remember how different your worlds are.

One day, you go to the place you two had been meeting for nearly a year now, and it's empty. That's not particularly unusual— it's happened once or twice before where your friend couldn't make it, so it's no cause for concern. You merely leave the food and water in a little nook he had shown you before, and make your way home, hoping that he's alright and not too banged up.

When you get home, the maids and the butler all tell you of a recent incident that happened not too far away in the city— of an assault and a mangled body, of the perpetrator on death's door himself, barely rushed to the hospital in time. While you have dinner alone, they urge you to exercise caution if you go out tomorrow.

So you take heed of their words, bringing a new platter of food and hide small knife in your pocket as you head back to the same place yesterday. The food and water from before is still there, hidden in the little nook only the two of you know of.

Anxiety grips you, but you try to shake it off. You return the next day. And the next. And the next. Each day, the food you leave remains untouched every time.

You fear the worst after a week is up— you fear for his safety, for his health. You fear for the only genuine friend you had ever made, who had seen you as more than just your parents' only child. You don't leave your room for a week, poring over the newspaper and anything else you can get your hands on. The househelp thinks you're ill— and you are. You're sick with worry, sick with the late nights spent up as you stretch yourself thin trying to find something, anything about him. But when your parents learn of your seclusion, you're forced to give up your search. In the end, you're the only one left to remember the nameless boy with the soft smile and a love for tea.

It is years and years down the line. Wriothesley had been doing well as the administrator of the fortress— so much so that he had been invited to the Palais Mermonia to receive the title of Duke. He had barely managed to sidestep a grand investiture ceremony, instead opting to sign, take the relevant certificates, and be done with it.

When he enters the office of the Iudex, he's met with the man himself and a surprisingly familiar face. One that he had never forgotten, even on days where the ground threatened to crumble underneath him and the walls of his prison cell felt like they were closing in.

Your eyes blow wide, your grip on the documents threatening to rip the papers, and he doesn't miss the slight wobble in your lip as you gaze at him.

"Good afternoon, I'm pleased that you could join us," says the Iudex. He sweeps one hand in your direction. "This is one of our top attorneys,assigned to assist with the processing of your documents and certificates."

Wriothesley smiles, wider than he has in a long, long time, and reaches a hand out for you to grasp.

"Hi," he says, never taking his eyes on your face. He squeezes your hand and feels you tremble in his hold. "My name is Wriothesley. It's nice to meet you."

[starry-bi-sky]

i have been unmedicated for the entirety of spring break and thus have had little interest in writing this down, but i have been thinking about this for the entire week (as well as a dpdc clone danny au that resulted in it becoming its entirely separate batman au that includes a teenage vigilante bruce wayne, an ocarina, and me entirely incapable of making a batman au without making bruce dirt poor but we're not talking about that) and so i've finally went 'fuck it' and forcibly grabbed my laptop. I will get this done in one sitting even if it kills me.

BUT. This is about neither clone^2 danny nor about who i am calling Ocarina Batman. This is about my Danyal Al Ghul Au and more SPECIFICALLY it's me thinking about his relationship with Sam and Tucker specifically.

Tucker and Sam? Adore this asshole (affectionate) with every fiber of their being. And it is very much a reciprocated feeling, but Danny's thoughts will not be delved into much other than he would kill for them.

Tucker? The only person currently capable of getting a deep, loud, belly laugh out of Danny. Sam can get him to smile and to laugh, but it's the kind that's a chuckle-under-the-breath. The quiet, looks-down-while-huffing laughter. Snorts once with laughter and then grins stupidly.

But Tucker? Tucker can crack a slew of stupid jokes and Danny will be incapacitated for the next five minutes because he's laughing so hard that he can't breath. He lands one well-timed pun or quip and Danny will be close to tears. His laughter is their favorite sound in the whole world.

Sam is lowkey jealous of this ability, and she's gotten a belly laugh out of Danny a few times. But alas, it is Tucker who wields this power and has gotten it the most times out of the two of them.

-

They're also both physically affectionate with Danny as much as possible. It started roughly around when they were 12-ish, a year since they befriended Danny, and they noticed that he sought after touch but never seemed to initiate (and was in some ways repulsed by it). They started slowly being more touchy with him. Hooking a finger around his to lead him somewhere, tapping his wrist, looping arms. Little touches, grabs, etc, to get him used to it, and once he started doing it back they started increasing it.

It's gotten to a point where he will now just. Lay on them. Like a lizard sunbathing on a rock. Leaning on their backs when they're sitting in class before the bell rings, his chin on their heads. He'll talk about anything with his arms looped around their shoulders.

If they're sitting on a couch at either of their houses, he'll lay his legs on theirs. Him and Tucker will press their feet against the other's and try and push against them (newsflash: Danny always wins, Tucker claims its the ghost strength but Danny's been winning since before his accident)

-

Naturally, both Sam and Tucker know where Danny keeps his weapons on his person, and are allowed to grab them off of him if they need it. His only requirement is that they don't lose his weapons if they take it and forget to return it immediately.

They both understand how big of a thing this is from Danny, and so they do their best to treat his weapons with a lot of respect and care because they know its his way of saying he trusts them.

-

Sam and Tucker are so fond of Danny it's insane. Like fr. That's their goddamn best friend, and they are so protective of him. Emotionally, physically, you name it. They will tear the head off a grown man if they need to, Danny's had scars since he arrived in Amity Park and Sam and Tucker both are going to find the person who put them there and make them pay for it.

One time, Tucker overheard a bunch of upperclass girls speaking nastily about Danny and about the rumors surrounding him, calling him names like 'freak', 'monster', etc. Danny was with him and heard it, and seemingly appeared unbothered by it, even telling Tucker that he was used to such rumors.

Tucker was so furious that hacked into the school system later that night and tanked those girls grades. They were kicked out of their clubs and had to go to mandatory tutoring for the rest of the year. He made sure to leave some way of letting them know it was him who did it.

And Sam doesn't like using her money for things, doesn't like abusing that wealth. So instead, whenever her parents talk bad about Danny, she causes a media incident that has her parents scrambling to deal with. She does something wild, outrageous by her parents' standards.

She heard some boys on the basketball team making fun of Danny once, similar to those girls had. She kicks up a fuss about something eco-unfriendly at school and forcibly holds a protest on the same day of the big home basketball game, forcing them to cancel the event and reschedule to a visiting school.

She anonymously donates money so that there's new uniforms for the team but oops! Looks like she "forgot" to donate enough money for them to get uniforms for all the team members, and strangely enough those boys in particular didn't get them! Looks like they'll have to wait until more money gets donated for the basketball team to get their new, nice uniforms. The old ones look so ratty in comparison, right?

And since the football team gets most of the sport money, that might just take awhile. And if (and when) they kick up a fuss? oops! Off the basketball team you go, :) such unsportsman-like behavior is unfit for the team.

(The only good thing about how corrupt the school system is is that she can use it to her advantage too.)

The both of them know that Danny suspects them for the sudden misfortune falling on these people, but he doesn't call them out on it. He's kinder than he used to be, but not kind enough to vouch for people who speak badly of him. Sometimes, he might just congratulate them on not getting caught.

Because Danny is their wonderful, hurt friend with a "slightly" Blue and Orange Moral code, and enough scars that people have been calling him a criminal (and worse) since he arrived in Amity Park when he was ten. And they'll be damned if he gets hurt anymore.