#hopefully it dies out

[abyssalstardust]

Disney-Marvel-movie-dialogue-ification really is the worst thing to happen to pop cinema

[momsgoldenchild]

get snoozed tumblr live

[starry-bi-sky]

Out of Context Stuff for a Danyal Al Ghul au i haven't posted - Pit Beast Danyal

Damian, 13: Look, Danyal, -- I am so sorry for everything that happened between us in the League, I hope you can forgive me.

Danny, 10 (allegedly): (has been secretly plotting to murder Damian this whole time, is still gonna do it obvs, but is going to make it significantly less painful now)

Danny: I-- of course, older brother. :]

--------

Bruce: what do you have there, Damian?

Damian:

Danny: (a hulking 10ft pit beast standing beside him, growling idly with ram horns gouging out his eyes and a second set of horns jutting into the air, spines down his back, and a long, spiked tail with an animalistic, skull-like face)

Damian, who smuggled him in (they've made amends): a smoothie, father

----------

Damian: this is my little brother Danyal, i murdered him when he was five. He festered in rage for the last half-a decade, took over a League mountain base in Switzerland, murdered everyone inside and then tried to murder me when I went to investigate with Drake.

Danny: hello!

Damian: we're cool now

----------

Damian: thoughts on resurrection

Danny, (a full ghost): i will succeed in murdering you if you try it

Damian: we'll put a pin in it then

----------

Danny (still instilled with League values): why don't we just murder him??

Damian, on patrol (Danny followed him): we don't murder people, Danyal

Danyal:,,,,are you sick, Dami?? Have you been possessed? Why not!?

(There is raucous laughing through the comms)

----------

Danny, five, pre-death: Dami! :D

Danny, dead, vengeful: Older brother (:

Danny, post-forgiveness: Dami! :]

-------

For some actual context: Danny is fully dead in this au, its a result of the classic DPxDC Demon Twins "death duel" trope but instead of Danny getting revived, he stays fully dead. Danny was five, Damian was seven. His ghost lingered though, and due to the proximity of the pits his ghost steadily absorbed the ambient energy it was letting off. The pits are not corrupted ectoplasm in this au, it's just liquid ecto.

Which means Danny's corruption from an angry and hurt little ghost boy to an unrecognizable monster is from his own doing. It's a result of him stewing in his hurt and anger for years, it physically warped him. He's very powerful. Danny can travel between League Bases but chose a small, out-of-the-way base in the Swiss mountains to fester in and then just. Never Left.

His influence steeped into the very foundations of the building, allowing him to transform and warp the rooms and hallways for his own bidding, Meaning he could turn it into a seemingly unending labyrinth if he so wished to, and block the entrance.

Eventually, blinded (both metaphorically and physically) by his own rage, Danny grew powerful enough to appear physically in the living realm and attacked everyone in the base, slaughtering them all and leaving the base abandoned. He attacks anyone who dares enter -- whether that be other league members, or the unfortunate hiker who stumbled across the base. His conscious is steeped into every nook and cranny of the building, there is nowhere you can hide where he can't find. Nobody leaves without his explicit say so. Nobody ever does.

Him appearing as ten years old before Damian in the skits above is his own physical doing. First it was to prevent Damian from being suspicious of him. Damian initially thought Danny was revived with the pits, he was too busy with his own training afterwards to notice that Danny never showed up again, and when he did notice, he assumed it was because Danny was too ashamed of his loss to face him. He'd always forget to ask about him.

Then it becomes a personal choice to appear as ten. It's how old he would've been had he been alive.

danny forgiving Damian is kinda for an offshoot branch of the main au. Whereas the main au takes the form of a ps4 first person horror game where Damian and Tim are investigating the Base for Plot Reasons. There's no sign of the rumored "monster" living inside until the end, where Danny, who was found inside the Base and has been happily "helping" them look around, manages to persuade Damian into splitting off from Tim in order to "show him something."

This something turns out to be Danny revealing that he never really forgave Damian for that fight, and he reveals through a horrifying transformation, that he was the monster the whole time. Which the game subtly hints at throughout as Danny's strange behavior becomes harder to ignore.

First from his insistence to only refer to Damian as "older brother" (when before the duel he always called him Damian or Dami), to him right off the bat denying the existence of a monster when questioned. ("There's no monster here, older brother. It's just me.") To other various things, like his knowledge of the outside world not matching up to modern times or things going on with the league outside of the base, or what happened to the other league members.

This whole idea was inspired by the song "Scylla" from Epic the Musical, with Danyal being the voice of Scylla as well as Odysseus, while Damian stands as Eurylochus. The instrumentals after Scylla says "hello" is him turning into the pit beast, and Scylla's "drown in your sorrow and fears" part is danny, as the pit beast, snarling at Damian while he attacks him.

There's a Good Ending, a Bad Ending, and a True Ending. The Bad Ending results in Damian being killed by Danny, it happens when Damian decides not to question or suspect Danny and treats him kindly. The Bad Ending is a cutscene, where Danny kills Damian quick and painlessly.

Meanwhile the Good Ending is Damian killing Danny. This is a boss fight, and it happens when Damian treats Danny coldly and suspiciously the whole time. Danny as a result, decides to make Damian's death painful as he had planned to, which is why it's a boss fight because it only causes him to double down on his anger.

The True Ending is Damian escapes with Tim. It happens when you treat Danny warmly up until the last minute, where when Danny proposes to Damian that he wants to show him something, Damian goes to talk to Tim and finally, reluctantly agrees that something is off with Danny, and that he'll be careful going in. It starts off with the boss fight until a third through, where it then changes to a cutscene where Tim manages to get the door open and Damian escapes out. It's then a chase scene down a never-ending hallway as the building actively works to keep you trapped inside. But you eventually make it to the exit so long as you avoid all the projectiles and doors.

Remember when I mentioned that Danny only lets people leave when he wants them to? That's where the treating Danny kindly throughout the game comes into play. It causes him to second guess himself and, eventually, reawaken and strengthen the love and admiration he had for Damian prior to his murder. It's why in the Bad Ending he kills Damian quickly -- because by then, he loves him enough that he doesn't want him to suffer, but is still so consumed by his rage and need for vengeance that he kills him anyways. That quiet part is what allows Damian (and Tim) to find the exit, because some part of Danny still loves Damian enough that he wants him to live.

The True Ending ends with a cutscene of Damian and Tim tumbling out into the snow/grass outside of the base. Damian looks up back to the entrance to see Danny standing there. But rather than a ten year old boy, there's a little five year old Danyal Al Ghul instead. He stares at Damian emotionlessly, blood seeping from his chest, staining his clothes, and little, bloody sword in his hands and tearstains on his cheeks, before he turns away and disappears back into the building.

[twelvemartha]

SCRIPT TO SCREEN: 3.01 “Smith and Jones” (writ. Russell T Davies) ➞ Leo's birthday party

MARTHA: I went to the Moon today. THE DOCTOR: Bit more peaceful than down here.

[vapidlemon]

snap your friend out of his spiraling by shocking him with a bizarre callback

(a necessary sequel to this)

[zaxlotl]

Mouthwashing doodles!!! And no Jimbo because I hate him

[aecholapis]

October 23rd: Last Friday Night

Flowspade / Megaempress

For the @tfrarepairing fest 2024

[notdysfunk]

Inverse Teleporter Horrors : Lethal Company Comic

CW : A LITTLE BLOOD, IMPLIED DEATH (under break)

Phew! This took a couple days, but I had this idea of a rlly spooky comic showing a dramatic retelling of an incident we had during a goofy run of Lethal Company

Featuring: Myself (Dys, one stuck behind the door) Ender (One with crown/diamond motifs) Muffin (One with hooves) and Sunny (Chairman, one with jester hat)

btw im so sorry if my handwriting is unreadable LOL,,,

[goldengirlgalaxy]

Some alien royalty comes to Earth to claim Captain Marvel as their husband for his power. He manages to get out if it by proclaiming that he's already engaged to the Princess of the Infinite Realms, Princess Danielle "Ellie" Phantom.

Extra: Billy is still hiding the fact that he's actually still a child from the rest of the League. Ellie is roughly his civilian age, so when the League asks to meet her, hijinks ensue as Ellie has to keep up the appearance of being far older than she actually is, both physically and mentally.

[gio-goose]

It is still growing

[makorragal-312]

So, just so I'm clear...we're all in agreement that Gerrard and that bitchass councilwoman are in cahoots together, right?

[sgt-tombstone]

43 definitely caught my eye.

(Don't mind gore, it can be fun. But. No dying ppl plz.)

43. A bloody kiss

So I’m somewhat shamefully plugging my MCD fic, Funeral Blues, because the idea that keeps swirling around in my head is an expansion of one of the flashbacks BUT I know you said no dying, so this snippet won’t have any MCD, I promise! It can be read as a complete stand-alone scene, separate from the rest of the fic entirely!

~~~~~~~~

The mission had gone to shit, because of course it had. That seemed to be the 141’s entire MO: make a plan, then have it thrown out the window hours or even minutes later, because the intel had been bad, or their targets had moved, or there were more defenses than expected. The consistency of it all would’ve made Ghost laugh if the result of this particular mission going to shit hadn’t been… this.

This, of course, being Johnny, laid out on his back in the middle of the helicopter, combat medics swarming like flies, prodding with various needles and tubes and instruments, all while trying not to slip on the copious amounts of blood seeping from… everywhere, honestly. Some of it was Ghost’s, undoubtedly, but the vast majority of the slick blood coating the metal floor was Soap’s, rapidly cooling in the chilled air.

His eyes were open, which was a good sign. He was still conscious, his heart rate not steady, but strong enough. He was breathing, and that’s what Ghost forced himself to focus on. Not the indentation of Johnny’s skin as the IV needle punctured, injecting unknown substances directly into his veins. Not the white dressing that instantly stained red where it was pressed against the gunshot wound in Johnny’s thigh. Not the blood running in rivulets across Johnny’s face from the gash to his temple, forcing him to squint one eye and lick his lips in a vain attempt to keep his own blood from dripping into his open, gasping mouth.

Ghost couldn’t look at any of it. The needle reminded him of Roba, of the drugs he’d been injected with against his will, despite knowing that these combat medics would rather die than lose a soldier; they didn’t know Soap, but that was the nature of their work. The blood-stained cloth reminded him of his family, laid out under the Christmas tree, thin sheet draped over their corpses, soaked in viscera and gore, red blooming like flowers where gravity pulled white to red. The rivulets of blood reminded him of Las Almas, of the gunshot wound that had nearly taken Johnny from him the first time, before he’d even known him; Ghost might’ve been able to handle it then, but it’d kill him now.

Instead, he focused on Johnny’s eyes. Bright blue, wide, alert, and trained directly on Ghost. They were upside down, because Johnny’s head was cradled in the divot of Ghost’s crossed legs, the sides of his face supported by Ghost’s gloved hands, his thumbs moving subconsciously in soothing arcs over Johnny’s cheeks, smearing the blood even further. It was everywhere, seeping from everywhere, staining both of them and everything around them gruesome, grim red, but Ghost only had eyes for the flash of blue in the midst of it all.

There was fear in those eyes. Anyone else would’ve missed it; Johnny was too well-trained to let his terror shine through, too eager to please to display anything that could disappoint a superior officer, too warm-hearted to project anything less than confident assuredness to the men around him. But Ghost wasn’t just anyone, and he didn’t miss it. He didn’t miss the way Johnny’s gaze clung to Ghost’s own like a lifeline, the way his breath hitched on every other inhale, the way his fingers twitched against the cold metal floor, like he was desperately stopping himself from touching something he shouldn’t.

Ghost’s mask was pulled up partially because in their rush to exfil, no one had given him a headset, so he’d had to rely on the medics’ ability to read his lips as his shouted report was drowned out by the helicopter rotors. Not that they’d really needed his help; it had been obvious what was wrong with Johnny. The two of them had limped their way towards the helicopter from the tree line, exposed on all sides and reliant on the air patrol to cover them as Ghost nearly carried Soap to the RV point. Blood had soaked the entire leg of his fatigues from the knee down, and his tac vest was coated in mud and blood too; Ghost’s arm around his torso had been the only thing keeping him upright by the time they made it to the safety of the medics’ waiting arms.

He wasn’t stable yet; the kind of blood loss that he’d suffered would need a transfusion or two eventually, but the medics weren’t looking so concerned anymore, and Ghost found it within himself to take a deep breath.

Johnny finally reached up, his arm moving slowly, lethargically, like every twitch of the muscles was a monumental effort, and Ghost watched as his fingertips brushed against his blood-stained forehead, probing at the scabbing gash. Normally, he’d slap the sergeant’s hand away, would growl at him to leave it well enough alone, because that’s how shit gets infected, but he also knew the deep-seated need to self-analyze. His eyes never left Johnny’s fingers as they shifted lower, following the blood trail to his own lips, meeting the tip of his tongue as it peeked out, tasting his own blood. His mouth moved, silent in the roaring air, but Ghost knew what Johnny’s lips looked like when they wrapped around his name, and he could hear it perfectly in his mind’s eye.

Soap’s arm was on the move again, stretching up, impossibly high, until the warmth of his palm met Ghost’s jaw, smearing red across his skin, hot like a brand, straight from the source, and Ghost’s breath caught in his chest. He saw Johnny’s eyes dilate, blue swallowed by black, fear overtaken by…

“I’ve got you, Johnny,” Ghost rumbled, knowing that the sound would be stolen but that Johnny would understand anyway. He always did, somehow.

A tear pooled on Johnny’s lash line before spilling over, racing down his temple, mixing with the blood smeared over Johnny’s skin before soaking into the cloth of Ghost’s glove, and he could almost convince himself that he could feel it against his skin, damp and warm and so full of life.

Johnny’s hand curled, cupping the back of Ghost’s neck, resisting the tug of gravity pulling his arm down like dead weight, except… No, Johnny was definitely the one pulling. Pulling Ghost down, closer, urging him to lean over him, to—

Their lips met, blood slick and offset, the upside down angle making any real kiss impossible, but it was enough. More than enough. Never enough. Ghost cradled Johnny impossibly closer, ignoring the medics’ warning sounds as he maneuvered Johnny’s body, but he’d never do anything to hurt him. Something this perfect couldn’t possibly hurt, not when he had Johnny’s lips on his, Johnny’s hands on him, Johnny’s love pouring into his mouth like too shelf bourbon, intoxicating and burning and addictive all at once.

They separated when they couldn’t breathe anymore, but neither of them went far. Ghost’s lungs were burning, his back already making its displeasure at the harsh angle known, his hips and knees aching at the stretch of folding himself damn near in half, but a direct order from Price himself couldn’t have urged him any further from Johnny, and Johnny evidently felt the same, his fingers tangling in the fabric at the back of Ghost’s neck.

“Ghost,” he said, breath brushing against Ghost’s blood-smeared lips, and Ghost brought one arm down to curl around Johnny’s torso, pulling him slightly upright and slotting their bodies together, back-to-chest.

“I’ve got you, Johnny,” he whispered into Soap’s ear, and he wasn’t sure who he was comforting. All he knew was that, when the helicopter touched down back at base, Johnny was still in his arms, still breathing, still holding on, and he thought that maybe, he could have this.

[nicoathogwarts]

(Prev)

Nico had to stay in the hospital wing for several days until he was nearly solid. When he blinked awake everything was far too bright, if it weren't for the silence he would've assumed he was back in the infirmary with Will hovering nearby to make sure his vitals were normal.

Some people had left cards and small gifts for when he got better. A surprisingly nice gesture, maybe it meant that he wouldn't have to explain anything to anyone. The gods weren't that kind, he'd just lie and let Dumbledore make his own assumptions.

Once he was fully solid and able to walk up to the Headmasters office he did, guided by Snape who seemed even more displeased then usual. If he hadn't been around for a while Nico would've suspected he were a monster in disguise. Maybe he was playing the long game. "Lemon Sherbert." As the eagle twisted to expose a spiral staircase Snape gave Nico one last sneer. "If Dumbledor had any sense you'd be expelled with the rest of Potter and his friends. Fortunately you were not part of his antics, simply an unfortunate side effect of his little escape. Him and his friends sent you to the hospital wing after being hit with multiple unknown hexes and curses."

Nico nodded and went up. He'd figure out what all of that was about later. He sat down in front of Dumbledore's desk. "Professor."

"Mr. di Angelo it's good to see you well again, you gave Madame Pomfrey quite the scare. I don't believe she's seen anything quite like it before." He chuckled to himself. "It was very noble to go against your house and aid Harry, who knows what may have happened if you hadn't been there to apparate everyone to safety."

"Yeah, I mean I wasn't really thinking about when it, it just happened. What happened after I passed out? No one's told me anything other then to see you."

"Harry went after Voldemort with some of the Order members while Sirius Black stayed with you and the rest of your friends until help could come. Minister Fudge saw Voldemort alive for himself and it has been confirmed that he has returned. Unfortunately, he and his followers fled the Ministry soon after."

Nico nodded along "And everyone else is ok? No casualties?"

"Everyone else is fine. Now off you go, I hear your housemates have been very worried about you."

Nico made his way down to the Slytherin common room where he immediately took one of the nice armchairs stationed in front of the fireplace. When the bell rang signaling the end of class he hardly had time to breathe before his housemates were surrounding him and demanding answers.

After many "I don't remember who hexed me with what" and "I don't know why they did it" they finally backed off. It took another twenty minutes to make them agree not to get revenge in his behalf, if only because he swore to do it himself.

"Hey."

Ginny jumped and looked around the empty common room. "How'd you get in?"

Nico stepped out of the shadows. "I waited until I overheard someone say the password. But that's not why I'm here, I can't be seen with anyone outside of Slytherin. My standing isn't that great as it is, and it'd be a lot worse if people knew I'd gone with you to the ministry."

"I get it. Do you know what happened after you apparated?"

Nico shrugged "nope. I'm going to go before I'm missed. If you see any coins laying around don't touch them."

[hashtagdrivebywrites]

I am *dying* to know about #12 rn. Care to let me see a snippet? Maybe expound on its virtues? 🥺

-Faer

Ahhh okay, so this one started as a silly "wouldn't it be hilarious if Jason's dad was actually John Winchester" thought exercise (because my sense of humor is shot) after I forced one of my friends to watch UTRH with me, and it just. spiraled, violently. It's still ass-deep in chaos page hell, but I've been describing it as, "Red Hood and Justice League Dark: Great Value Edition".

* Older Scooby Gang * Sibling/Family Reveal * Reverse Identity Reveal (the bulk of the team doesn't know Jason is Red Hood (or an active vigilante at all) until the situation calls for Red Hood-level interference) * Danny "I am in desperate need of a trusted supportive adult" Fenton * Good Friends Tucker and Sam * Clueless Dean and Sam

--

"So," Sam opened both hands and held them apart, gesturing first at the little-big asshole that had kicked everything off just by existing, "you were dead."

Jason shrugged his stupidly huge shoulders, "I got better." The following 'And?' went unspoken but clearly implied.

Oh, Bobby was going to lose his damn mind when he got a hold of this kid.

Sam paused, needing a moment to process the fact that they were too late, again, before he angled his disbelief at the skinny little punk standing with his hands in his pockets and flanked on either side by his friends like bodyguards.

"You were dead."

The teenager coughed into his fist, "Uh, about that."

Sam paused. "You…weren't dead?"

The kid made a face and wobbled his hand in the air, all 'so-so' like.

"What," Dean shifted, every Hunter-honed instinct firing off in the back of his brain, "What the hell does that mean. Did you die, or didn't you?"

"I'm," He stopped himself, brows furrowed as he looked up thoughtfully, "An overachiever?"

"Technically you're an underachiever since you can't commit to a bit," The Kid Body Guard in the Beret helpfully pointed out.

The "underachiever" in question looked like he might argue, but ultimately agreed with a loose shrug of his shoulders. "Rude, but okay."

"What the hell does that mean. Sam."

"I don't know, Dean."

"And both of you have died," A woman cut in, heels clicking on the tile, "I was dead for fifteen minutes while on a case in Star City last December. Legally, Velma is also dead. You boys aren't special."

[icewindandboringhorror]

................ he 

[pixelatedraindrops]

I may need to give up drawing for a short while. The laptop-tablet I usually drew on has officially died. It used the last of its strength to squeeze those last two drawings and then it died when I came home from my trip.

I used the charger to sustain its life but then I remembered that the battery life said “0%” while working on my last art. Meaning it was on its last remaining bits of energy. The battery in it has been dead but I kept using it until its last stand. And that day is today. It won’t even charge or turn on anymore.

It looks like I will have to buy a new stylus for my current laptop I use to continue drawing. The stylus I currently have isn’t compatible with it… But my autistic self likes to stick with my ways and it will be hard for me to get used to a new one…

I’m honestly very sad about it… 😢 So until I get used to this new one, you won’t see any art from me.

I hope I adapt to it quicker than I think…