#its like whispering

[usurp]

know what i missed tags... i missed having a tagging system being back here is great actually

[birbwizard]

She's so cool

[sangrefae]

partly insp. by this post from @malewifesband but i wanted to draw the before + after of this hug between laios and kabru

[spkyart]

Heck 💀

[starry-bi-sky]

wolfpack. aka: if not friend, then why friend-shaped?

"Hey-- uh, Danny?" There's an almost imperceptible tremor in Tucker's voice.

Danny doesn't look up from what he's doing, his pencil scritching across his notebook as he tries to do another quadratic formula question. "Hm."

"What's -- uh -- what's with the dogs?"

He looks up now, and finally sees where Tucker is -- standing in the doorway of his room with an ashy look on his face and a skewed, nervous smile. He's got a white knuckle grip on the doorknob. Sam is wide-eyed behind him, and using him as a partial meat-shield.

Danny looks down to the two giant ghost wolves sprawled next to him lazily. One large green one with his head in Danny's lap, letting him use him as a prop-up for his notebook. Another equally large black one splayed against his hip, sleeping on her side with her head tilted inward to his calf.

Automatically, a grin tilts across Danny's face, and he lifts his notebook up to scratch behind the green one's ears. He opens a lazy eye, one that is bloody red with a ring of yellow around the pupil, before slipping it shut and leaning his head into Danny's touch. "This is Sirius and Procyon," he says, and reaches down to scratch Sirius' belly. "And they're not dogs, they're wolves."

"Great," Tucker says, his voice suddenly much smaller and faint, "Love that distinction."

Sirius makes a great big groan, and Danny's grin widens, his heart swelling with fondness. His hand slips away from her belly, and before he can put his notebook back down, Procyon pushes his head up his lap until his ear is against his stomach, demanding pets now too.

Sam peeks her head up from over Tucker's shoulder, "I think what Tucker's asking here is what are they doing here, Danny."

He shrugs, scratching under Procyon's chin. "They kinda just showed up. I tried sending them back to the Zone, but they keep returning." And they were weirdly intent on just following him around, which is the only reason he gave up on returning them. They weren't causing trouble, and they knew how to hide around the living. Plus, he just loves dogs. "So now I have two wolves living with me."

This, oddly enough, did not do anything to calm Sam and Tucker down. Tucker's mouth purses into a thin line, and he presses the sides of his palms to his lips in prayer. "How have your parents not found out about this?"

Danny wordlessly raises his hand, and his sleeve slides down to reveal a thin chain bracelet hooked around his wrist. He whistles sharply, and both Procyon and Sirius jerk their heads up to look at him, ears pricked up and eyes alert.

Silently, he points to his wrist and rattles it twice, and in unison both wolves stand up and pounce. Instantly, they turn into a respective, opaque black and green mist that swirls around the bracelet and forms into two, flat wolf charms.

Both wolves are posing in the stereotypical wolf howl, with little stars indented on the sides. Procyon's charm has the Canis Minor constellation engraved on it, while Sirius has the Canis Major.

Danny faces Sam and Tucker, and points at his wrist. "Like this."

[cynomain69]

pictured: little boy on the playground pulling on his crush’s pigtails

[iphigeniacomplex]

why do we bash "kingslayer" jaime lannister for the regicide but we never question if the mad king had bad vibes? Or if he was just unpleasant to be around

[maskofnova]

It's 5 am and the staff is in the kitchen working up the courage to kick both of them out.

[itsnicsalad]

cooldown🤙 at this point i feel like im drawing the same thing all the time, but im having fun lol

[dazeddoodles]

Darius was sympathetic towards Raine about the break up until he found out THEY broke up with EDA. Now Darius is on Eda's side, Eda's not even on her own side.

[bumblydumbly]

i think that if kabru saw that “laios meeting falin for the first time” strip he’d be sobbing uncontrollably

[haunted-xander]

tbh this was mainly an excuse to draw everyone in the Riders outfits lol

[clockworkreapers]

Tales from the Gas Station Vol. 2 everyone

[itbeaheadcannon]

hc that merlin and Gwen (who are besties btw) are absolutely running shit. Got a problem? Go to them - always to them. They're the ones who know the most about the castle and have full control of the royal schedules.

Uther does not know about this and neither does Arthur - however whenever either one of them pisses Merlin or Gwen off or they just do something like seriously fucked up (looking at you Uther you absolute ass) they bury them in work.

and I mean like bury them: making them wake up at like first light for an 'emergency' (apparently someone thought they saw a sorcerer) straight to training the Knights, to a meeting with the council to deal with the non-existant sorcerer, to confirmations of a celebration

they don't know what the celebration is for. (in truth it's not for anything, the castle just wanted an excuse for a party, and it's funny gaslighting the royals into thinking they approved some random ass celebration a few weeks ago)

The servants know and 100% annoy them with inane shit because their "input" is needed (no the fuck it's not, but getting to fuck over royalty is fun for them)

random servant #1 to Uther: Apologies for interrupting Sir, but the seamstress wanted to confirm time for your fitting for your outfit for the celebration tonight?

Uther, baffled asf running on 5hrs sleep: celebration? there is no celebration??? and what colour scheme

Servant #1 trying not to cackle: yes sir there is? you advised of it just last month - the seamstress just wanted to take last measurements

Servant #2 elbowing #1 to get their shit together: and the blue and purple scheme? You approved it over a month ago, and Prince Arthur confirmed last week before preparations were made.

(all the food is stuff Arthur and Uther barely tolerate and mildly hate and their alcohol is weak asf - meanwhile the knights and everyone else are eating amazingly, drunk off their asses)

more in the tags lol

[talon-dragonbeast]

would you love me if i was a worm?

would you love me if i was a bird, a dragon, a piece of stardust?

if my hands were claws and my teeth were sharp and my edges were rough and my body uneven

if i was so much more than what your eyes could see

would you be scared of me? would you be scared for me?

if i told you i was different from what you thought i was

would you believe me?

would you ask me questions, would you try to understand?

if i showed you this vulnerable part of myself

would you judge me? would you laugh at me?

can i bare my chest for you knowing of the knife you keep pointed at me?

can i present my brain for you to dissect knowing you could pick out the parts that make me unique?

can i put my beating heart in your hands knowing you could crush it between your fingers?

can i trust you? do you trust me?

would you still love me if i was not who i told you i was

and would you still love me if i tell you who i am?

...

would it be worth it?

[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."