#that's straight up torture!

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

probably will be FORCED by Pomp And Circumstance to go to the CLOWN HOSPITAL, for a CLOWN INJURY (may or may not be An ALLEGEDLY Fractured Foot...a MOURNFUL MALADY incurred in the most PATHETIC and LAPSIDAISICAL Fashion of TRAGICALLY UNFASHIONABLY Events......

Anyway. Forgot what I was saying. Buy me 1/25th of an x-ray or whatnot I guess

[sprnklersplashes]

once again being reminded of how weird being a taylor swift fan on this website is because the people who claim to hate her just clearly do not listen to her. I saw someone say "does taylor swift even know she's been turned into a brand and stripped of her humanity? is she aware of the fact she lives in a gilded cage where she can't be imperfect?" like my sibling in christ that's what her past two albums have been about about. what exactly did you guys think anti-hero was?

[eggo-tistical]

smoking that lawmikalight stuff rn… *taps pencil like its a blunt* sheeit that hits hard….

[potato-lord-but-not]

Arthur needs to keep going so he can see Oscar again isnt even my cope nearly as much as Kayne already established he would kill every version of every person arthur and john love until they ends of time it is so much more tragic than that Arthur needs to burn the letter to keep going so Kayne doesnt hurt Oscar

GHHYHHH NO YOURE SO CORRECT OUGGSHSJK

[pinklotushere]

*throws this and runs*

Blüdhaven was used to the flips, the twirls, and the relentless quips that came with Nightwing. The acrobat in black and blue had long been the city's shadowy protector, darting from rooftop to rooftop with a grin that never quite matched the chaos he left behind.

But something had changed, and the people of Blüdhaven were starting to notice.

“Yo, remember last week when Nightwing—uh, if that’s still him—just shattered Luka’s arm? Like, no banter, no nothin’? Just crack.”

Eddie leaned back in his chair at The Last Stop Diner, his gaze fixed on the group of regulars seated at the corner booth. He wasn’t the only one with questions.

“I thought I was imagining things,” Carrie chimed in, stirring her coffee. “But I swear to God, the guy’s built like a brick wall now. You see him take down the Steel Street crew? No flips. No acrobatics. Just…straight punches.”

“Yeah, yeah!” Eddie slapped the table for emphasis. “He didn’t even bother dodging. Just ate one of their hits like it was nothin’ and decked the guy right after. I don’t think he even grunted.”

“Maybe it’s steroids?” someone suggested.

“Or a mid-life crisis,” Carrie shot back, rolling her eyes. “Dude looks fifty now, minimum.”

But speculation didn’t make sense of the facts. Gone was the lithe, nimble Nightwing who once turned gang fights into chaotic circuses.

In his place was a towering figure, six feet of raw muscle and no nonsense, fighting with the kind of technique you’d expect from a hardened boxer rather than a trapeze artist.

Even the criminals were baffled.

“Hey, Luka, how’s the arm?” Eddie called to a guy limping past the diner window.

“Shut up,” Luka snarled, holding his sling protectively. “Don’t know what that guy’s problem is, but it ain’t normal.”

The Steel Street gang had been laughing when they saw Nightwing show up last week.

“Aww, here he comes,” one of them had jeered, “with his flips and twirls!”

And then the old man had decked him.

No clever quips, no acrobatics—just a straight, brutal left hook that left the guy crumpled on the ground. The others tried to jump him, but every one of them got the same treatment. A solid punch here, an elbow there, and a particularly nasty uppercut that sent Luka to the hospital.

By the end of it, the gang wasn’t laughing anymore.

The rumors started spreading.

“You think it’s still him?”

“Gotta be. He’s wearing the suit.”

“But the guy’s, like, twice the size he used to be! And where’s all the snark? I haven’t heard him say anything in weeks.”

Whatever had happened to Nightwing, one thing was clear: Blüdhaven’s protector wasn’t playing games anymore. And the city hated it.

“I miss him,” Carrie admitted one evening, staring out at the skyline. “Like, the real him. The guy who made all this crap we deal with…bearable.”

Eddie nodded solemnly. “The flips. The jokes. The way he’d tie those gangsters up in, like, Christmas lights and leave ‘em swinging from a lamppost? Where’s that guy? Where’s our guy?”

When he came back, the city didn’t let him go quietly.

It had been months of fear, confusion, and speculation, but when Nightwing finally swung into action the way he used to—quips, flips, and all—it was like the entire city exhaled at once.

Carrie spotted him first. “No way,” she breathed, pointing to the figure perched on a rooftop, striking his usual pose.

When he leapt down, somersaulting through the air to knock out three gangsters in one motion, Eddie cheered so loud he nearly lost his voice.

The word spread like wildfire

By the time Nightwing finished his patrol, there was a small crowd waiting for him at the edge of a park.

People—actual civilians—approached him with tearful smiles, holding out fruit baskets and baked goods.

“Uh…” Nightwing hesitated as a little girl shoved a bouquet of flowers into his hands. “What is happening right now?”

“You’re back!” Carrie exclaimed, throwing her arms around him in a hug so tight he nearly dropped the flowers.

“Don’t ever leave us again,” Eddie begged, thrusting a pie into his free hand.

“Wait, what?” Nightwing blinked, completely baffled.

“You abandoned us!” an older woman scolded, shaking a finger at him. “Where were the flips? The sass? Do you know how scary you got?”

“I…uh…” he stammered, utterly lost.

The crowd parted slightly, and to Nightwing’s utter disbelief, a few familiar faces emerged from the shadows. Gang members. Former enemies. Even a couple of low-level villains.

“Yo, man,” muttered one of the Steel Street crew, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. “Uh…we kinda brought you a thing.” He held up a sleek, black and blue leather jacket. The stitching was uneven, and the Nightwing symbol on the back looked like it had been traced from a comic book, but it was clearly handmade. “Figured you could use something fresh. Y’know, for the cold nights.”

“...Thanks?” Nightwing said, taking the jacket with a mix of confusion and astonishment.

Another thug shuffled forward, holding a battered book in his hands. “Here.” He thrust it at Nightwing. “It’s a joke book. You’re always crackin’ one-liners, right? Well, these might be better than what you’ve been using. No offense.”

“None taken,” Nightwing replied dryly, tucking the book under his arm.

A burly enforcer stepped up next, dragging a pair of free weights behind him. “These are for ya. You were hittin’ like a freight train last time, so, uh…might as well keep it up, right?”

A lanky member of the Steel Street crew awkwardly handed him a single boxing glove. “For when you’re really feelin’ old-school,” he joked. “Signed it for ya too, in case you wanna auction it off someday.”

Nightwing stared at the growing pile of gifts in his arms, the ridiculousness of it all threatening to overwhelm him.

“So, uh, promise you’re not gonna leave us hanging like that again?” Eddie asked, still clutching his pie.

“I…promise?” Nightwing managed, his voice tinged with disbelief as he juggled the flowers, joke book, weights, and jacket.

Somewhere in the back of the crowd, a man muttered to his wife, “You think he’s weirded out by this?”

“Probably,” she whispered back. “But it’s Nightwing. He’ll make a joke about it later.”

Nightwing, overwhelmed but smiling faintly, realized he’d never understand Blüdhaven’s people. But for once, he didn’t mind

[kismetconstellations]

"Please! We come from a peaceful planet! We mean you no harm. We're unarmed!"

[ann-ghost]

stole this from my own twitter account

anyway they should've interacted more

[panic-in-the-multiverse]

I was gonna say I love Lucanis’s romance in the game but apparently as I noticed that’s an unpopular opinion

[tauforged]

everyone complaining about amir’s voicelines being too goofy to take him seriously are weak and foolish and will not survive the winter. i hope he continues doing stupid shit i can’t wait to put the zephyr harrier noble animation set on him so all his idles are him stopping to do a stupid little dance. i’m going to spam his ping lines until my clanmates want to murder me in real life. we are not the same

[gunpowdercarousel]

Shadowheart: Lae'zel, how would you punish someone who had wronged you?

Lae'zel: Wronged me how?

Shadowheart: I dunno. Murder... or theft.

Me: Haha what a funny hypothetical question, but I guess it's good that Shadowheart wants to learn about Githyanki culture. Of course she would be curious, and clearly she's just using a theoretical scenario as a basis for her questions.

Me:

Me: HEY WAIT A MINUTE OH MY GOD YOU

[hurt-over-comfort]

Barely holding on

---

This might be the first Albert/Cedric sketch I posted? Gotta start somewhere I suppose since I've been yapping about them for so long. Hope you like it!

And yeah, Cedric did all that to him.

[devildomwriter]

Diavolo’s Sadistic Side

It’s now canon in both games that Diavolo enjoys watching torture and punishment being handed out

[foreskinniest]

These freaks are playing 4D chess trying to save humanity by naming their kids the most unfuckable names imaginable.

[wineaunt420]

It was low-key so hot when in the second batman live action, Cillian Crane said "I said my drugs would take you places, I never said they would be places you'd want to go"

I need Btaa scarecrow to say precisely those lines now because he is essentially Cillian crow just fan fitted to be more accurate.

(Huge ass massive character rant in the tags lol, I LOVE JON SO SO SO SO SO MUCH)

[pinazee]

At this point I only want mark/gemma end game so she’s happy and its a bonus i guess if mark is happy too

[insomnya777]

etho the kinda mf to own a typewriter