#i guess? better to be safe than sorry

[beezverse]

Happy October 4th to those who celebrate!!!

[amourningcrow]

the implication is driving me insane.

'when spite helps'

he doesn't do it on purpose. it's spite.

[demi-pixellated]

The [Urban] Legend of Zelda

[annqer]

my only goal in life is to make horror rpg maker-esque sunday art and have it in a sick edit

[dailysquiddo]

ashswag has a brownie

(parody of the forever weed horsecomix by @punkitt-is-here)

[l-just-want-to-see]

love how there was absolutely no context. some people were like oh? we have to go to spawn? Joel just died.

[isjasz]

[Day 316]

aka the day when jas isjasz decided to finally practice drawing muscles WHYS THIS SO DIFFICULT

[sketchmre]

two concepts of the same character. the first is a insectoid moth-like shifter/changeling and the second is a fleshy mimicry fairy. both manually draw in their eyelashes/eyebrows/lips/irises/nails

[ladyfenharel]

I haven’t met Emmrich yet but I heard that his room is right next to Rook’s so… mutual m*sturbation fics anyone?

[astralzeraphias]

this will definitely solve their problems!

[anisecandy]

I've again encountered people saying that shipping Alastor with anybody is problematic because he's aroace on radiostatic fanarts. As an actual aroace I have to say that this is a pathetically weak reason. So weak, in fact, that in the kindness of my heart I decided to provide those people with a bunch of better ones

Why it's problematic to ship radiostatic (a list)

Vox embodies capitalism. Alastor, being his rival and wearing all red suit obviously embodies communism. Shipping them makes light of the deep discussion of political ideologies that their conflict symbolizes.

Their color palettes together cause eye strain. This ship is ableist by design.

Vox is already in a relationship with Valentino. Isn't it enough that Alastor already slept with Lucifer's wife and ruined his marriage? (they were both gone for 7 years, it can't be a coincidence) How many homes must he wreck before you'll be satisfied??

It's not called "electroswing" and that upsets me.

It's a ship with 20 year big age gap. And given that Alastor and Vox knew each other before Vox switched his head to a newer model, it's possible that Alstor first met him many years ago. Coupled with how mentally unstable Vox is now when it comes to Alastor, we arrive at an obvious conclusion: Alastor Groomed Vox.

Vox would cause too many blackouts if he was around Alastor on daily basic. By shipping Vox with Alastor you're putting the happiness of individuals (Vox and Al) above the needs of the community (other citizens of Pentagram City). You disgusting libertarian.

Alastor is a deer. Shipping radiostatic means supporting bestiality.

Vox is a TV. Shipping radiostatic means supporting objectophilia.

Alastor hates dogs. Vox has a shark-dog hybrid. In order for the ship to work, Vox would have to get rid of his beloved pet. This ship condones animal abuse.

They'd be too happy together. They are horrible people. They shouldn't be happy. Also, that defies the point of them being in Hell. Duh.

[brekitten]

Bruce doesn't dream.

He never has, really - at least, not that he can remember. He never even had nightmares from the night his parents died. Maybe that's why; maybe he just subconsciously trained himself to not dream after that night, in fear of the nightmares that were sure to come. But the point is that he does not dream.

And yet.

The dream always starts out the same, every night, every time he closes his eyes and slips into the embrace of sleep. He's in a pitch-black room, one so dark that he can't see his hands even when he raises them right in front of his face. He knows, somehow, that he can walk for hours without coming into contact with anything - walls, furniture, anything at all to indicate that he was even in a room. Yet he knows that he is, although he's not sure why, as there really is no reason for him to know that.

The dream changes, after a while of walking. He knows that he won't find anything, no matter how far or how long he walks. This place is empty, desolate even. It fills him with dread every time. The change is never consistent, always bringing him to a different place each night.

(Once, it was a dusty old bedroom, one that made his heart ache, although he didn't know why. He had taken notice of the various space-themed decorations, the model rockets and NASA posters and stars on the ceiling. It was clearly a child's bedroom, but it hadn't been used in a long time. Another time, it was a darkened lab, illuminated only by the strange vials of green liquid lined along the many, many shelves. Bruce had wondered, after he had awoken, if it was Lazarus Water, but that felt wrong. It was something else. Something more. It had made him uneasy, and he got the feeling that something terrible had happened there. He didn't get a chance to investigate the gaping hole in the wall before he had been whisked away to another part of the dream.)

This time, he is in a brightly-lit white lab, and he has to blink stars out of his eyes at the abrupt change in lighting and color. He looks around; it seems like a typical lab, but everything is pure white, except for a green stain on the table. He can feel bile rising in his throat at the sight of the cuffs on the table, and though he still doesn't know what the green substance is, he gets the horrible feeling that it's blood. A lot of it.

He uses what little time he has to investigate the lab. There is an abundance of medical supplies, but many look unused, with the exception of the scalpels. The pit in his stomach continues to grow. Why were there so many? He reaches toward a vial of red liquid, wrong wrong wrong this is wrong, when the dream changes again.

Now he's in what is clearly a cell, except even the cells in Arkham aren't this bare. The only thing it contains is a familiar white-haired teenager, who is chained to the floor with cuffs that glow the same green as the vials of Lazarus Water that he's seen before.

Though Bruce has never learned his name, he has been in every dream, the one constant (besides the empty room, of course) in each one. The kid has never spoken, never done more than watch, but Bruce has always gotten the feeling that he was the reason for these strange dreams.

He knows that he should be more worried. If some kind of meta has managed to get inside his head, there's no telling what could happen. But he can't bring himself to be. Something is wrong, and it's not the teenager.

He can't help but think of his own children.

Something feels . . . off this time. The kid isn't looking up, isn't even moving - he seems limp, almost, as he kneels on the ground, weighed down by the chains keeping him there. Green blood - Bruce knows it's blood now, it has to be - drips from his still figure, pooling on the ground underneath him.

Bruce can't move. He desperately wants to, what could he even do? but it's like he's frozen in place. He can only watch as the teenager slowly, agonizingly, looks up at him, his bright green eyes dull and filled with fear and desperation and hope and -

Bruce wakes.

[arielluva]

this is all i could think about when i read this part lol

[koushuwu]

「DON’T GET EATEN BY YOUR OWN SKILL」

[bowenoke]

new dangers with opening tumblr in public: chimera

[marshmallowpuffcat]

Don't speak to me or my gummy gator bff again