#present darkness

[starry-bi-sky]

I am loudly pushing the batdad agenda i am loudly pushing the— DPxDC Prompt

“Woah. You look like shit."

Granted, that’s probably not the first thing Danny should be saying to the guy that just bit the curb, but in his defense; he’s not running on 100% right now either.

The man -- tall, towering, and broader than Danny is tall -- whips around on his heel, black frayed cape flaring out impressively. Danny would've whistled in appreciation, but he takes the time instead to wipe the back of his hand across his mouth, smearing the blood running from his nose across his cheek.

"Sorry." He blinks widely, not even flinching as the man with the horns zeroes in on him. "That was rude of me. I have a really bad brain-to-mouth filter; Sam says its what always gets me into trouble."

And she's not wrong either, per say. His smart mouth is what landed him in this situation -- with blood blossom extract running through his veins and cannibalizing the ectoplasm in his bloodstream. Thanks Vlad.

The man grunts at him; a short, curt "hm" that shouldn't make Danny smile, but he does because he's somewhat delirious and probably concussed. The man keeps some kind of distance, sinking towards the shadows of Gotham's alleyway like he dares to melt right into it.

If it's supposed to scare Danny, it doesn't work. Danny's never been afraid of the dark; he's always been able to hide himself in it. He blinks slowly at the mass of shadows.

"You look hurt." The shadows says, blurring together around the edges. Danny squints, and licks his lips to get the blood dripping down his chin off. Ugh, he hates the taste of blood.

"I am." He says, "My godfather poisoned me. M'dying." The agony of the blood blossom eating him from the inside out looped back around to numbing a while ago, so all he feels is half-awake and dazed.

"Hey," Danny stumbles forward towards the man, a bloodied hand reaching out to him. "You-- you're a hero, right? You're not attacking me; which is more than I can say for most costumed people I've met." Maybe it's a poor bar to judge someone at, but he's already established that Danny's not in his right mind.

The man makes no change in expression, but Danny realizes blearily that it's hard to tell with the shadows on his face. He stays still long enough for Danny to latch onto the cape -- stretchy, but almost soft under his fingers.

He looks up blearily into the whites of the man's eyes. "Can you help me? I don't-- I don't wanna die." Again. He doesn't wanna die again. He blinks slow and lizard-like. "I mean- I'll probably get to see mom and dad again, but I told them I'd at least try and make it to adulthood."

There's a clatter down the street, and Danny's ghost sense chills up his spine and leaves a bitter, ashy taste in his mouth. He immediately knows who it belongs to even before the deceptively gentle; "Daniel?" echoes down the way.

"Daniel? Quit your games, badger, Gotham is dangerous for children."

Danny's mouth pulls back, and blood spills against his tongue. "Please." He rasps, and grabs onto the shadow's cape with both hands. "Please. He's going to kill me. Please--"

"Daniel? Is that you?"

His lips part, dragging in air to plead with the darkness again. He doesn't need to, the whites of his eyes narrow, and the cape whirls around him before Danny can blink. Soon swaddled in shadows, the Night lifts him up, and steals him away.

[laddersofsweetmisery]

I don't see enough people mourning over the slow death of physical media. And I don't just mean TV shows, video games, or movies--which don't even get me started about how we don't really 'own' anything anymore. It includes notes, journals, and letters to one another...so much of our history is lost when we lose a password, a website goes down, a file/hardware is corrupted, or a platform disappears. History that doesn't seem important until you no longer have access to it. Physical media does a lot for memory recall. How many memories will we lose because we don't have something tangible to tie it back to? Something to hold in our hands and stir up those memories we thought were once lost? Sometimes I wonder what the difference between burning a book and losing access to physical media is when someone can pull the plug and remove your access so easily.

[thenewgirl76]

Taking advantage of Constantine's tendency to zone out during debriefings, Danny sneaks up on him from behind while invisible and goes eldritch abomination before becoming visible.

Danny: JOHN CONSTANTINE! I'VE COME FOR YOUR PITIFUL SOUL!

Constantine: BLOODY HELL!

*magic blasts Danny, knocking him to the floor and causing him to revert to his normal ghost form*

Constantine: You miserable little brat! I told you to cut that shite out!

*lying on the floor wheezing in both pain and laughter*

Danny: I regret nothing

The rest of the JL and JLD members either snicker in amusement or shake their head in disappointment.

[rugwurm]

smells like hell

[helpmeimblorboing]

It’s Gorgug. Keep going

[iphigeniacomplex]

it’s very easy to tell the good satires and pastiches from the bad ones because the bad ones are too afraid to live within the form. like if you are doing work with fairy tales and you are refusing to look closer at the underlying logic and unspoken rules of what can seem at first to be a senseless form, you are not going to create meaningful work. to borrow a turn of phrase originally used by maria tatar, if you refuse to enter “the house of fairy tale” as anything more than a gawking tourist, you will miss the particular order to the way the table is set, the rooms that are locked vs the rooms that are simply difficult to enter, the set of the floorboards and the position of the furniture. whatever you build will then be a gilded imitation of how you believe the house of fairy tale ought to look, the table set according to your educated specifications and every door open. there can be no interrogation of themes from a writer who views the form as beneath them!

[thevoidstaredback]

It all seemed to start within a snap of Time; the tick of a clock; the drop of a hat; the blink of an Eye.

Just before any of the assembled Justice League could leave the Watchtower, every alarm went off and pandemonium re-erupted across the space station.

"What the hell is going on?" Batman demanded as he and Robin re-entered the meeting room they'd just left.

Constantine and Zatanna were both using several different ways of communication, talking in frantic tone and jumping between conversations without losing any of them. Deadman had disappeared completely. The America based heroes were all getting calls, all just as confused as each other as to what was going on.

Batman pulled up a map on the projector, the one that was shown in the Observation part of the Watchtower, and glared at the red dot that was slowly taking over Illinois. "Constantine, Zatanna. What is this?"

Constantine glared back at Batman, "What we were trying to avoid by calling a meeting today!" He went right back to whatever conversation he was having in Esperanto.

"Yeah, look what good that did us anyway," Zatanna scoffed between conversations, "We were both late and ignored." She, too, had started speaking on Esperanto.

"That's where Red is based," Robin said quietly from beside Batman. "I-I need to call- make sure she's alright!"

Batman put his hand on Robin's shoulder. "Don't panic, chum, we'll get a plan started and then you can all Red Huntress." The boy nodded, but opened his own communicator anyway, likely to contact his team. Batman turned to the heroes in the room. "Everyone!" He waited until all eyes were on him before continuing, "Calm down. Constantine, Zatanna, find out what's going on-"

"Already doing that, Batsy!" the man hollered before jumping into a fourth conversation.

Batman's eye twitched behind the white lenses of his mask, but he otherwise didn't react to the interruption. "-the rest of us need to go and isolate the threat. We'll plan from there. Make sure your comms are on. Robin, get your team ready for rescue efforts and try to contact Red Huntress to see if she knows what's going on." When the heroes started moving, he grabbed Superman. "Where's Deadman?"

Superman shook his head. "No idea. He was gone by the time any of us came back in here."

Batman nodded and let him go. Everyone was on their way to Illinois right now, but there was something that Zatanna said that struck him as strange. He didn't have to wait ong before her three ongoing conversations all came to a stop. "Earlier, you said that Amity Park liked to stay in Illinois. What did you mean?"

Zatanna jumped when he spoke, obviously not realizing he was still there, but she answered him, "The city's been prime for supernatural activity since its founding. On top of the two dimensional rifts, that much magic contained in one area is bound to give it some form of sentiance, especially because most of that magic is death and life focused."

He hummed and left the room with a sweep of his cape. Containing the issue will be tricky if the source manages to move around them. Regardless, it needed to be done fast.

***

It took another twenty minutes before all five on Constantine's conversations ended. He had gotten the same unfortunate answer from all five of them, and, judging by the look on her face, Zatanna had been given the same news as him.

"We tried to warn them. We fucking tried-!" she slammed her fist down on the table, "But we were too fucking late!"

He ran a hand down his face with a heavy sigh. "C'mon, mate, let's go make sure they don't fuck anything else up."

"And help them defend the idiots that started all this? No way. Let them lie in the grave they dug."

"Horrible metaphor, love. And, as much as I hate to say it, we can't let the world get taken over."

"Why not? They've been practically begging for it to happen since Superman was first introduced. That's why the Green Lanterns had to step in and lay down the law, quite literally." She huffed. "Besides, the Realms won't be gunning for the world. They're looking for their child."

"And if they don't find the kid in perfect condition?"

"...I see you're point."

"Good! We're on the same page, then."

She sighed again. "How're we going to play this? Are we running interference?"

"No," he shook his head, "The only thing we can do is keep anyone from dying or attacking."

"Without Deadman to talk to the Realms?"

"Yep,"

"You realize how hard this is gonna be, right?"

"I'm gonna make Batsy pay me in hard liquor."

"Agreed."

***

The Justice League had set up a perimeter around the town of Amity Park, Illinois. They were a few miles out from the town, close enough to see it but far enough away as to not set off any panic. When Constantine and Zatanna arrived, they had made it very obvious that the town and it's citizens were probably very aware that they were there. They called another meeting, though only taking a few heroes away from watch. Zatanna was the one to explain things to them while Constantine kept tabs on the town in case it decided to move.

The heroes still weren't exactly sure what they meant by that.

Zatanna stood at the front of the heroes she'd pulled aside. Batman, Wonder Woman, Superman, Aquaman, The Flash, and Green Lantern stood in a half circle, all very clearly anxious to keep their eyes on the town. Too bad for them, this was her specialty, so she got to keep facing it while they turned their backs.

"They aren't going to listen to you guys," Zatanna said, "Like we tried to warn you earlier, their looking for a child that the US Government took from them."

"The one in the pictures?" The Flash asked.

"Yep," she affirmed, "His name's Phantom, like we said. He's this town's hero."

"I thought Robin said Red Huntress was the town's hero?" Aquaman wondered.

Zatanna pushed down the flare of anger with a deep breath. "Phantom has been operating for several months longer than Red Huntress. she is closer to being a hero while Phantom leans more towards being a vigilante."

"Is that why he doesn't stick around after his fights?" Superman tilted his head slightly in question.

"Yes," she glared, "Can I get back on topic, or are we wanting to waste even more time?" The heroes fell silent and she waited for a few seconds before continuing. "From what Deadman explained, Phantom is technically still a baby ghost because he's only been dead for about a year." She ignored the expressions on the heroes faces. "Not only that, but he's the favorite of several Ancient Beings. Think Primordials or Titans."

"Oh, dear," Wonder Woman whispered. Several had paled slightly.

Zatanna nodded. "Don't attack any of the Realms' people, not even in self defense. We're going to have to help them find Phantom, keep them from attacking the US Government, and keep the Government from attacking them."

"A bit late for that!" A new voice joined the group. They all startled, reaching for weapons and dropping into ready stances.

Above and slightly to the side of the group was a girl who looked to be in her late teens. She had teal-grey skin, a slight teal glow, and flaming teal hair tied in a high pony, bangs framing her face. Her eyes glowed the same radioactive green as Phantom's had in the picture, though less so. She was wearing black pants, a black crop-top, grey knee boots, and a single black elbow glove. There was a guitar strapped to her back that gave off a slight purple glow. Even from where the Justice League heroes were standing, they could feel heat radiating off of here.

"And you are?" Batman asked.

"Don't matter who I am, does it?" the girl sneered, "What matters is that you dickheads took one of ours." She very obviously assessed the small group, looking each person up and down with a frown on her face. "Phantom told me that this place had other heroes, so where were you?"

Superman blinked. "Excuse me?"

"Where were you?"

"I'm, uh, not quite sure what you mean."

"You're talking about when this place was catalyst for world threats, right?" Zatanna stepped forward.

The girl turned her full attention to the magician. "So, you knew?"

Zatanna nodded. "Me and my colleagues were keeping on eye on Amity Park after the rifts opened up last year."

The girl seemed to reassess the magician. "You're one of the ones Deadman told us about."

"You know Deadma?" Green Lantern asked. He was ginored.

"Yeah?"

"I'm Ember." She landed and held her hand out for a hand shake. "Deadman got the Council to agree to hold ourselves in Amity until the end of the day. After that, we move on our own."

Zatanna shook her hand. "I'm Zatanna. We're gonna find him."

Ember glared, tightening her grip, "You better. He's done more for this world than you heroes even know." She turned her glare on the others before flying back up. "And once he's back with us, where he belongs, we'll think about a cease fire." She left before anyone could get another word in.

Zatanna fell into a squat, her hands covering her face. "This is a nightmare," she whispered, "That definitely could've gone much better." She popped back up to her full height. "Well, you heard her. We've got 'til the end of the day to find Phanom."

The group shared looks, nodding at each other before separating to spread the word to everyone else

The first plan was the same one they had for every mission that needed quick recon done. Flash was sent out to get a location. Once he had one, they'd set off.

Part 1 Part 3

[thomashelbyswife]

Thomas Shelby - Peaky Blinders S3E5

[goodomensafterdark]

Writers Guild Presents - Tethered - Ch 7 - Memories

Big thank you to @gleafer for accepting to let me use this piece as illustration to this chapter! Go support her on Patreon -we promise that your loins will catch on FIRE ;)

Written by NegotiationReal6508 on our subreddit!

Chapter 7 of work in progress

TW/CW: Angst, Discussion of attempted suicide, implied character death, panic attack, some light smut.

Summary:

Crowley wakes up in a mental hospital with no memory of how he got there. Without his demonic powers, neither the doctors, nor the people who claim to be his family will believe he is who he says he is. With the evidence against him mounting, his only lifeline to the real world is a cryptic note left by an unseen messenger. The longer he stays in this hospital, the harder it becomes to recall for sure, is Crowley really a demon of Hell? Or has his entire existence been nothing more than a delusion conjured by a grieving mind?

Excerpt:

Crowley stood in a noisy airport at the arrivals gate holding a bouquet of red roses, fidgeting nervously. All of his usual laidback swagger was buried under a blanket of anxiety, his spine was a solid metal rod. He was always a little bouncy when Aziraphale came to visit, but this time was different. Crowley hopped his feet up and down like the floor was burning hot sand. He juggled the little box in his jacket pocket as he stared at the sliding glass doors, willing the familiar head of blond hair to appear through them. Were the roses too cliché? Maybe he should have gotten the peonies instead. Too late now.

“There, I see him.” Crowley turned to the young man beside him. “Are you recording?”

“Yeah, it's on,” said Adam.

“Right, here he comes.” Crowley shook out his shoulders and trilled his lips. He knew he looked ridiculous, but it was an airport; no one ever looked their best at an airport. He moved towards the beacon that was Aziraphale’s gleaming smile. His heart thudded like hoofbeats in his chest. Breathe, he reminded himself. Breathing and walking, those were the two main requirements at the moment. He had no idea what his facial expression was, he just hoped he was smiling too. God, Aziraphale was so gorgeous, even after eight hours on a plane. How was that even possible?

“Hello, my darling!” Aziraphale greeted him.

“Hi,” said Crowley, because that was about as eloquent as he could manage. He unceremoniously handed the bouquet to Aziraphale.

“Oh my!” Aziraphale chuckled. “Flowers? What's the occasion?”

And there was Crowley’s opening. Aziraphale was reaching out his arms for an embrace but Crowley needed to do what he came to do first. He bent down on one knee, and pulled the little box from his pocket.

Continue reading on AO3

Or start from chapter 1 - Dies Lunae

Special thanks to my beautiful betas: u/KotiasCamorra, u/Paperclip_Ninja

[the0verboss]

Gortash week Day 2- Worship/Betrayal

Gortash conducting worship, Durge commiting Betrayal

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Shout out to all artists who had to work without any strong direction or instruction.

I wish you a merry “the client likes it anyways”

[giddlygoat]

i have a vision. in my mind, luigi’s fit is a bit more maximalist, and no two leathers or denims match. he deserves more variety in his look.

[byjovewhataspend]

the students got too rowdy after curfew and erasermic had to come out and scold them

sort of the goth couple equivalent to that 'flowing sheer robes vs sleeping cap and nightgown' couple meme.

[jinbeshawaiianshirt]

day 7: HAPPY BIRTHDAY BABYGORL 🎂💙💙💙

[bullagit]

due to personal reasons i am now firmly on team “i hope aziraphale does change heaven for the better actually (going on the assumption that his return is as straightforward as it seemed etc” 

like if the alternative is just this ohhh he’s so NAIVE and SOFT and so WRONG and he’ll have to LEARN A TOUGH LESSON etc etc nonsense then yeah 1000% go for it babe knock it out of the park

i hope choosing hope and kindness pays dividends. i hope the soft traits that made other characters continually disparage and underestimate him and his intelligence turn out to be his greatest assets bc i kinda don’t give a shit about a “toughen up it’s the only way everyone else knows better” life lesson for this character

(which like honestly a lot of the rhetoric is dismissive of the fact that persistent goodness in the face of an existence of disparagement takes great strength and that at the end of the day aziraphale has always been able to stand up in his own way)

[kiratastic]

My, albeit belated, birthday present to Nosferatini!

At first only the illustration was planned, then I don't know what happened 😂😂

Now it's a short comic with illustration 😁❤️

A belated Happy Birthday from me @nosferatini 🥳🎉🎁✨

@goodomensafterdark