#and kinda an asshole

[attackoneyebrows]

there's no timeline on coming out.

[lucdoodle]

thought that one Alastor scene would look cool in comic lettering, so i drew this

[teddybeartoji]

whenever you're laying on your bed while wearing shorts, or maybe even just a pair of underwear, suguru never wastes an oppurtunity to bite your upper thighs. he likes to sink his teeth into your flesh just below your ass, chuckling to himself when you squeal and squirm. he always presses a kiss to the very same place too though, a little something to have you melting under him in a second. oh, and if you were to send him a glare over your shoulder, just know that you're playing right into his hands. he fucking loves it when you do that. he thinks you look adorable<333333

[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."

[drowninnoodles]

How many people have already done this?

I had a vision and I had to share it.

also some doodles

im not sorry

[idiotsonlyevent]

it is completely understandable to be uncomfortable with the sexual assault in dandadan. it's important to discuss how it's framed, whether it's handled poorly, or if it could be been portrayed better. but the number of people - even fans - stating that it is only fanservice, irrelevant, or could be removed is frankly bizarre to for SO many reasons, starting with the fact that this parallel exists.

the anime made it even more obvious by interpolating cuts from the first scene into the second one.

i thought this scene showed that momo gaining her powers by believing in her relationship with her grandmother gives her the strength to fight back against what is basically a horrific, much more aggressive and abstract (maybe even absurd?) representation of her shitty gross ex - who was demanding she 'put out' and pay for the love hotel in very first scene.

while the escalation from one scene to the next is surprising, it's not something that comes out of nowhere. this first scene is meant to be a set-up to what will happen later. it sets the tone, though significantly more lighthearted at this point. it tells you that sex, sexuality, etc. is something dandadan will touch on - though you don't know what the scope and depth will be until later in the chapter.

i cannot recommend this video enough, as it discusses some interesting interpretations of what the serpoians and turbo granny represent in their respective assault scenes, as well as how right now the treatment of both scenes is unfortunately uneven.

more notes about plot and thematic relevance below the cut. spoilers for anime-onlies (up to chapter 8, will probably be covered in episodes 4/5).

momo was assaulted, and almost cut up by the serpoians, much like the other victims turbo granny appeared around. this is an intentional parallel. turbo granny goes to momo because that is what she does. again, SUPER unclear how that factors into turbo granny's assault of ken, but if we keep the video's interpretation of cynicism in mind, it could be related to that; maybe turbo granny has a cynicism toward men - similar to momo in chapter/episode 1 - and this is why she chose to attack ken. unfortunately, it's still too early to really understand and explain a lot of her motivations.

again, completely understandable to not like how the sexual assault was handled or portrayed, and it's important to keep discussing it. but this is what dandadan does for many different types of trauma and difficult life experiences. this is a huge part of dandadan's identity. if you don't like it, that is fine, but calling the sexual assault 'just fan service' is blatantly untrue.

[lutheban]

None of them are equivalent to eachother but you get the point

[starry-bi-sky]

Blood Blossom Au: Baby's First Commissioner Meeting :)

TL:DR This Post: Danny (orphan) gets poisoned with blood blossom extract by Vlad. He runs away from him and ends up under the care of one Pre-Robin Battinson Batman! Starry is loudly pushing her batdad agenda.

(Also known as "Late At Night, When The Nightingale Sings" on my ao3!)

This was a fun rough idea I've been sitting on for weeks, thinking about how Commissioner Gordon and Nightingale's first meeting might go.

---------------

Commissioner Gordon likes to think that he's adjusting to the new normal of Gotham very well, -- the new normal being grown men running around dressed like bats, in military-grade strength body armor, committing acts of vigilantism, -- and slowly, little by little, he was no longer being surprised when this new normal pops up out of the shadows like the world's most terrifying daisy. His shaving lifespan thanks him for it.

....

The kid is a surprise though.

Granted, he seemed to be a surprise to the Bat too.

There's been a string of murders lately, -- which, in Gotham, is kind of like saying there's been another storm during monsoon season. And there's just been another; in some dilapidated building down in south Gotham, with the broken, boarded-up windows and mildew-crawling walls to match. The victim is a man in his thirties, multiple gunshot wounds to the chest, left in the center of the room for the blood to pool out around him.

The place is already secured when he arrives, the building swarmed with officers and the forensic detectives. The Bat emerges shortly after he does -- or, he might've been here the whole time, hiding someplace dark and shadowy. For his own sanity, Gordon doesn't think about it too hard.

The kid is a surprise, and he appears like a bolt of lightning.

He shows up in the middle of a conversation Gordon is having with the Bat.

A whistle, sharp and loud, slicing through the air, meant for open air rather than a confined space. Gordon's ears pierce and protest the sound, and the solemn, murmured chatter floating through the room abruptly cuts off like the swing of a gavel. As he turns towards the sound -- as they all do -- he swears, up and down, that he sees Batman's shoulders jump, just slightly.

At the source, perched on the window, is a boy. A boy in a gray-blue scarf and an oversized black hoodie, one that hangs off his frame and has ace bandages wrapped around the wrists in some attempt to cinch the sleeves. The hood is up, big like the rest of it, and threatens to swallow the upper half of the boy's face whole in the fabric. What upper half Gordon can see, is smeared with some kind of opaque, black face paint. He's holding onto the side of the frame with one hand, on his hip is a grappling hook. A familiar grappling hook.

Gordon has multiple questions, and his officers tense up.

Martinez puffs up, brows furrowing as his face shapes into a frown. Shoulders rolling back. "You can't be here, kid--"

The reaction is immediate, like a spark to gunpowder, the boy yanks his fingers from his mouth and his mouth twists into a scowl. Head snapping over to Officer Martinez, his hood manages to stay on but Gordon swears that as he bares his teeth, the glint makes them look sharper than they should be. His voice is rasp and quiet and harsh; snappish in its hissing; "Put a fuckin sock in it, Martinez. I'm not stayin."

Martinez reels back, and the boy immediately veers his attention off him. Like a switch, his demeanor drops. Despite half his face being covered, his mouth twists into a cringing, apologetic smile. Slanted and off-beat, embarrassed. It'd be disarming if this wasn't Gotham, and if he didn't just hiss at Martinez like he was about to bite his head off.

"Sorry." He whispers, voice deceptively polite and softer now. Gordon has to strain his ears to hear him. "I was looking for him."

He points his finger towards-- Gordon? No, Gordon follows the direction, and finds himself looking at -- the Bat.

The Bat, who always looks stiff as a pole, now looks even stiffer. Somehow. Well, the explains the grappling hook attached to the boy's waist.

"What are you doing here?" The Bat says, gruff and unable to completely smother the stumble of surprise in his tone.

The boy still holds a sheepish smile, and slips off the window ledge. His feet hit the creaky boards with a near-silent thud, the Batman finds his feet and rapidly begins crossing the room.

Gordon notes the slight tremble in the boy's legs as he straightens. He adjusts his scarf, which droops close to his knees now that he's standing, and slings a backpack -- how long has had that? -- off his shoulders. When the Bat reaches his side, he does as he always does, and looms over the boy like a spectre. A threatening mass of shadows cloaked in all-consuming black. Standing next to him, the boy looks teeny in comparison.

The Bat is a man who terrifies even the most hardened criminals, Gordon has seen grown men shiver in fear at the mention of his name. And yet when the boy looks up at him, he doesn't even flinch.

Instead, his sheepish smile melts away like ice under the sun, holding only traces of his previous embarrassment. It remains as a shadow on his face, a small upturn at the corners of his mouth. The boy pushes his hood back just enough to reveal glinting, ice-flint eyes surrounded in tar-black face paint. He holds the backpack up with one arm. "You forgot this."

[blueseysyogurt]

im sure this has been done before but idc

art creds: group drawing -sas milledge from raven boys graphic novel ronan pfp - auro cyanide on deviantart and tumblr kavinsky pfp - maggie stiefvater

[itsindiana]

i think we don't talk about what the driving force behind each batcher is enough. like if u think abt it hunter often acts out of fear ( not cowardice , fear that his ppl will get hurt duh ) , while crosshair often acts out pain , tech acts with logic , wrecker with love , and echo ? echo acts out of being true hater

[kalofi]

happy pride month here’s my contribution of trans nanami who didn’t transition until after he left jjtech and so when he comes back a brick shithouse it throws everyone for a loop. the group chat and i have dubbed this pre-t version of him nananiña. naniña for short

[papanowo]

Through out your posts you indicate that you head-canon Rex as gay, but who’s he got a crush on and or how’d he figure it out?

he likes anakin. hes not happy about it either lmao

[deathnguts]

Barty crouch jr who’s a disowned trust fund baby who still gets a monthly allowance from his mommy and invests in tech stocks probably and lives in a huge ass apartment in a nice building but it’s literally not furnished at all and he never cleans it ever and he spends most of his time on high on his pc and he’s got the gamer sleeper bod with pierced nipples and belly button and the worlds sluttiest hip bones and happy trail under his stained sweat pants and the most dead eyes under his scraggly hair that’s in desperate need of a haircut he doesn’t feel like getting but he’s getting a new tat at least once a month and they’re usually from himself because he bought a tattoo gun online but doesn’t have a license to tattoo others and he literally only goes outside to club and drink and visit his mommy because what else is there to do and he doesn’t even try to make friends or start relationships because he doesn’t care about people and why should he why does it matter and he’s literally just the most burnt out loser you ever did see but he gets away with literally everything because he’s rich and pretty

Evan Rosier who’s just another middle child in a pond of siblings to parents who have never tried to look at him so they don’t notice at all when he leaves with a shit load of their money and never comes back and they’d give him more if he asked to keep him out of the house but he would rather die than do that so he immediately gets into the shitty office pencil pushing Patrick Bateman type shit that his father and oldest brothers did but in a business that wasn’t just handed to him so he can feel like he’s made his money and therefore his life himself and he lives the rest of his life that way with a grind set around hours spent in the gym and specialized diets and crisp tasteful fashion and very demure stoic presentation of himself to the world and actively cuts himself off from everyone around him because of the mindset he gave himself through this life style that everyone is below him and waisting his time so he literally doesn’t have friends or family and barely says any words or feels anything everyday but no one can see that because he’s too far away to make out and too good at painting a picturesque image of himself for anyone to try because he’s rich and pretty

Regulus Black who has never lived for himself and isn’t starting now so he ignores the voice in his head reminding him he’s a boy and chokes it to sleep every night with his long hair and flowing dress skirts and tries to assert that by marrying the rich family friend that raised him more than his own parents (who barely even looked his way during his own wedding that they planned) right when he turns seventeen and locks himself away in the perfect white house his husband made for him and keeps trying to nail on the mask of being the perfect little wife but he just cant and goes stir crazy and obsessive and is a nightmare to be around during his rising amounts of emotional breakdowns and if it were a hundred years ago he’d probably get lobotomized but it’s not a hundred years ago so his husband (Rabastan if you couldn’t guess) tries to distract him by funding some pity studies and encouraging him to go to an old and privileged college for useless degrees he’s only getting so he’s too worn out to start fights at home but it works and keeps him civil and mostly empty and comfortable enough to continue to be a half dead powdered and pretty wife that can continue to float through life with literally no one in his life sticking around through his tantrums and bone deep issues except his husband who wants him to stay that way for convenience and everyone is h the outside looking in thinks he’s just perfect and mysterious because he’s rich and pretty

Literally just the unholy trinity in a modern, nonmagical setting as the worst versions of themselves in a context we know: closed off rich young people who are bubbling with hate but too depressed to really do anything about it and too rich and privileged to have to so they genuinely believe what they have must be good and not in need of change because they have it all right?

Anyway then one day they meet and they feel alive for the first time ever maybe and smooch and stuff woo modern rich pretty douchebag romance.

I just need something like that, soemthing that showcases their flaws and genuine awfulness without sugarcoating it but in turn shows how their love for one another genuinely brings out the best in them. Just like remembering that they’re messy bitches but their love trumps all like actually. And who cares, they look fantastic together and they have enough to own your entire bloodline, there is nothing you can do about anything they do.

[colliholly]

I love thinking about Chip and CEO's interactions

Not only is Craig ruining this man's life with the override but he's also Chip's boss, so he would get dragged to stuff like dumb company parties and Chip just has to sit there miserably and be a good employee. Craig would tell the waiters at a restaurant it's Chip's birthday and they would sing and put a dumb hat on him

[miguel-owhora]

makarov's the type of guy to unexpectedly have a loser bf.

most people think that because he's this big, bad terrorist, with unlimited resources and so much blood on his hands, he'd have an equally bad gf. so imagine everyone's surprise when he brings his loser BOYfriend! a loser and a boy? what a surprise!

and well, no one has the guts to ask why he went with you when he could've done so much better, so much more feminine. and to those who bad mouth you, they receive a gift from makarov in the form of a bullet.

he's still as mean as ever, still an asshole, and in some twisted way, does love you. like how someone loves their dumb puppy, who doesn't know any better and needs an owner to teach them right from wrong, to be a leader, makarov is more than happy to guide you.

despite how mean be can be, like a dumb puppy, you still love him. you still adore him. you're still so loyal and infatuated. so much so that you turn a cheek whenever fresh blood spills, favoring the hand that cups your face and shields your eyes rather than facing reality.

it's even easier to ignore reality when his pretty pussy is stretched around your girthy cock, squeezing tightly and so fucking warm. easier to ignore when you have your face muffled within his neck and shoulder, easier to ignore when his words are all you can dare to hear as he guides you on how to properly fuck someone like him.

easier to ignore when makarov is all you need.

[xxplastic-cubexx]

logan on that plane when the divorcees started arguing had to have been AT LEAST one of his top 20 worst moments in life if not at least one of the most awkward like imagine not liking flying in the first place and then the plane starts being crumpled like tin foil once the metallokinetic gets frustrated and now we're all nosediving towards the middle of the ocean