#they are the best kind of rewards

[maatdraws]

@steddie-week

day 5: Established Relationship (animatic)

Domestic Steddie is everything to me

[thepeacefulgarden]

[strawglicks]

i cant think of a clever caption . cathal obliterating graham with little effort upon ye

[some-stars]

okay so. kind of a weird thing. i just finished the dp&w making of, which was reasonably fun but pretty missable, and right as it finished i realized that shawn and ryan ALWAYS used "deadpool" to refer to the character. never his name. i mean maybe once or twice that i forgot but virtually never. they and hugh did say logan and wolverine about 40/60, but honestly that still feels weird to me coming from a fandom context. and, idk. there's a gap there. it feels emblematic of the gap between the people who get to make this kind of movie (cis white men), and the people who don't (us, for the most part). and how what they see as the most important elements of the story and characters are fundamentally out of alignment with what we want. there's a lot of overlap, which is why we're drawn to this stuff in the first place, but it's never going to actually line up. idk it's pretty disheartening but we carry on i suppose.

[sygneth]

Echoes lore time! (And also my random DE thoughts about Harry's place!)

Reading the last page, you might have had a feeling we're going to see the inside of Harry's place soon, and you were right!

So to make everything clear (and because, in the first place, I had a place with a very specific plan in my head when I've been writing scenes at HDB's) i drew a lil cheat sheet.

(Yes. I like to make building plans. A lot.)

I believe Harry inherited this place, and thus he owes it. And also, this is why it's in a not-the-worst of tenement houses and in not-the worst standard. It was a place where they used to live with Dora, and I think he made it a sanctuary of a kind after she left. He never moved anything from its original place deliberately, and so the place slowly started to become a decaying memorial of a nonexistent relationship.

Harry's place is a whole big meta topic to explore and I feel like there is a lot to it in terms of the psychology of a place.

Assuming that he is still living in the same place as he used to when with Dora, oh boy. The bad days, when every single thing reminded him of her. The remorse, the memories, the past. A scratch over the floor, where she tripped while dancing. Her favourite mug, or rather the few pieces of it, after he broke it in a fit of rage. An empty space after a painting that she loved so much. The scratched wall over the bedhead. The bed itself.

Then, the better days, when he tried to take care of his apartment, but some things were already damaged beyond repair. The plants died, he could buy new ones, but he knew that, sooner or later, they'd share the previous one's fate. The ripped carpet, stained furniture, cracked tiles. Could be replaced, but sooner or later they'd share the previous one's fate. A scratched floor. The scratched floor.

And then, rather sooner than later, the days become bad again.

I don't think Harry liked to spend time at his place. Especially in the bedroom. Especially when he wanted to quit. There was too much past in there, staring at him from every corner, every crack of the floor. I think a good deal of his past relapses might have been caused by this place. Sometimes a forgotten something he found while cleaning it up, sometimes just the space itself, soaked with memories.

(And to all my faithful readers of Echoes, I just want to let you know I read every single one of your tags and comments and it always makes my day <3 Thank you for that everybody, and if I don't always reply to the comments, I want you to know I do read them and I do appreciate them a whole whole lot, life is just very overwhelming sometimes)

[thret-rhett]

Adam, Eve, and Lilith. they’re my ocs now more lore in tags

[icewindandboringhorror]

recent lounging babey images

[poop-flying]

0. Decision

Kind of part of @ringleaderising's Tooth application! But this was mostly a fun way to establish the dynamic between the leaders of the Realmwalker Corps. You can have competent leaders who care about you or you can have leaders who all get along! Anyway. From left to right, according to the pictures above: Udyr, Agramant, Verbena, Morien and Voltimand.

There were many things in his life that Agramant considered a waste of time, chief among them the biweekly meetings the heads of the Realmwalker Corps held. He’d attended enough of those meetings that he knew how every one went:

Verbena would go down the agenda with his usual steadfastness, then Morien, impatient as ever, would make a snide remark on the speed or the tone or the content of his delivery. Verbena would bring the whole meeting to a halt to address that. Morien would retort with her usual derisiveness, and on and on it would go until Voltimand put a stop to the quarrel.

They’d just finished fighting over a word that Verbena had stuttered slightly in pronouncing. Fortunately, there were only two more items left on the agenda. Agramant pinched the bridge of his nose with one claw and massaged his bad leg with the other, turning his exhale of pain into a sigh. Only a few more minutes now.

Pain momentarily forgotten, Agramant straightened.

“One more thing,” Udyr said. She shifted a few documents idly pushing four copies to each of the heads. “The Sentinels.”

Morien, who’d been crotchety and fidgety for the past thirty minutes, groaned and slammed her claw on the table. “Again? Stormcatcher take them all, I thought we were done with those pretentious fucks. That business with the obelisk who turns into dirt — ”

“Sand,” Verbena interjected, shooting Morien a withering stare. “Sacrosanct shifts into sand.”

“Sand,” Verbena interjected, shooting Morien a withering stare. “Sacrosanct shifts into sand.”

“They can shift into shit for all I care — ”

Voltimand’s voice rang out, silencing them both: “Udyr. Continue.”

Udyr slid four copies across the table. Agramant inclined his head in thanks; he rarely spoke in meetings and most of the heads usually forgot he was there.

It was a case file. Not one of theirs, Agramant observed as he flipped it open.

“Where did you get this?” Voltimand asked. Her voice was light but there was an accusation in those words. “This is Sentinel material.”

Udyr shrugged, unfazed. “You have your spies, I have mine. Have you read it?”

Agramant turned his attention back to the file. Grinning grotesquely up at him was a guardian clad in tattered rags, a wicked-looking cleaver at her side. Young, Agramant decided, but judging by the bones she clad herself in, she knew how to use that weapon. Her teeth were unusual too: she had swapped a few with gaudy prosthetics. Gems, mismatched bone, precious metals. Her eyes were a red so bright they almost glowed.

She had a dagger sheathed at her side that looked familiar. Agramant squinted, connecting the dots. Efficient.

“Fuck,” Morien breathed. “Agramant, you’d love this girl — she doesn’t even waste her own teeth. How many of those do you think she’s made?”

He ignored that. His eyes skimmed over the next few sections. Last known location, favoured weapons, known magic, familial ties, casualties…

And stopped. Status: In Pursuit, written in a hasty hand. Instructions: Detain. Eliminate as last resort.

Udyr waited till they were all finished. Verbena was the first to speak, “What does this have to do with us?”

“Target?” Morien bared her teeth, her eyes alight with excitement. “I can set Hemera on her. Give me five days.”

Udyr said causally, “Not a target. A recruit.”

Verbena shot to his feet and gave an outraged shout at the same moment Voltimand said, “Absolutely not.”

In that same level voice, Udyr replied, “She’s a necromancer. She’ll be an asset.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Verbena growled, “but she hardly seems sane. The Sentinels only demand detention when the target has harmed one of theirs. We stay out of their business, they stay out of ours. This isn’t an ‘enemy of my enemy situation’.”

“I didn’t say it was. I’ll take it your vote is a no.”

“It is. And it’s hers too.” Verbena jerked his head at Voltimand, who shook her head gravely at Udyr.

Voltimand pushed the file back. “Verbena’s right. I can’t see her as one of our own.”

“Morien?”

The fathom had been unsually quiet during this exchange. She looked up now, her claw tracing patterns into the table, and asked, “Why her?”

Verbena swore aloud as Voltimand sighed defeatedly, reclining in her chair.

For the first time tonight, Udyr grinned. Agramant averted his eyes. That expression on Udyr’s face was as unnatural as rain falling upwards. She said, “Reports of strange and impossible quantities of magic appearing out of nowhere, groups of dragons gathering before it happens to siphon it up. Strange groups, too, affected in their own way by that magic. It doesn’t happen often — or at least we don’t hear about it often. Rumour has it that she — ” Udyr tapped the case file “ — comes from one of those clans.”

“What would you do with that information, hm? That strange magic? ” Verbena barked.

Udyr glanced at him coolly. “What would we do, you mean. The same as our predecessors: we assess and we decide. The Corps is sworn to face the unknown head-on; don’t tell me you’re afraid now.”

Morien lifted her chin and said, “Then I vote yes.”

“Good. Agramant?”

Agramant gave a start. His leg twinged in protest, and he had to force himself to relax, exhaling through his nose till the pain went away on its own. The group was silent now, everyone’s attention turned to him.

“Recruiting’s not my department,” he managed, trying to keep his voice as steady as he could.

“Still.” Udyr’s voice was quiet. Insistent. There was no weaseling his way out of this one.

“You can abstain,” Voltimand said reassuringly. “Besides, Udyr, we can’t interfere in Sentinel busine — ”

Morien snapped, “You just don’t want him to vote!”

“No, you insolent child, internal affairs has no sway over — ” That was Verbena, rising to his usual fury.

“Fuck you, old man!”

Agramant took a deep breath. He considered the file again as though it would yield further secrets upon a second round of scrutiny. Sure, she was young. Inexperienced in the ways of the world. Why Udyr wanted her to join the Realmwalkers Agramant could probably guess. Any way he looked at it, she’d probably bring trouble crashing down upon all their heads.

Sworn to face the unknown head-on.

Ah, hell. Why not? There was no guarantee they’d be able to snatch her out from under the Sentinels’ noses anyway.

“I vote yes.”

[brown-little-robin]

あ

[inamindfarfaraway]

I can perfectly picture a Batman: Wayne Family Adventures two-partner that properly introduces Harvey Dent, Two-Face, their relationships with Bruce and vice versa. But I can't draw in the slightest. So I'm going to script it and you'll have to use your imagination. It’s a little longer than the average WFA two-parter. But given how many thoughts and feelings I have about Harvey, I’d say it’s impressively concise. For me. If you like how I write Harvey, I recommend my fanfic spotlighting him as a teenager, compared to which I must warn you this script is positively fluffy. Read it on AO3 here! If you want to draw any of this, please tell me in advance and use the updated original post or the AO3 fic, not necessarily your reblog.

A Second Opinion

Part 1

[Panel one. Vertical rectangle, full screen. Nighttime. The exterior of an abandoned building that is notably more decrepit on the right side, Two-Face's current base of operations, from a distance and high angle. The Batmobile is parked outside. Bruce as Batman is seen on the rooftop from behind, striding stiffly toward the skylight. A speech bubble floats in the air above him.]

Barbara: Are you sure you don't want backup?

[Panel two. Barbara as Oracle watches with a frown of wary concern at her desk in the Clocktower.]

I know these confrontations are very personal for you -

[Panel three. Bruce leans over the skylight seen from below it, about to kick it in. His fists and jaw are clenched, teeth gritted and eyes narrowed sharply; even for Batman on a mission, he's in a bad mood.]

Bruce: I'm fine. I have him right where I want him.

[A speech bubble floats in the space below the panel.]

Harvey: I have him right where I want him!

[Panel four. Fade into a flashback. In stark contrast to the dull and dark blues, greys and blacks of the present scene, the flashback panels are full of light, saturated and warm colours. Harvey Dent stands at a round red table outside a café on a sunny day, beaming. He's a handsome, sturdy man with neat, short black hair, a semi-formal brown suit and wide brown eyes. He was seated, but has risen and slammed his palms down on the table in his enthusiuam. Slightly low angle, like the camera is on the table, and to the right so we have a better view of his left side. A gold wedding ring gleams on his finger. His introduction box reads: ‘Harvey Dent, District Attorney. Gotham’s best lawyer, technically and morally.’.]

And think of the implications! If the Salvatore Maroni can face justice, so can anyone.

[Panel five. He paces a little behind his chair, gesturing animatedly. Motion lines trail and curve around the other way behind him. His right side is now in profile. Same angle, but pulled back to see over the shoulder of a younger Bruce wearing a nondescript black shirt.]

If his empire can crumble, so can any criminal organization or corrupt institution, no matter how powerful. This trial could be a beacon of hope for Gotham. Proof that the law can actually help people, that the spirit of it is alive.

[Panel six. Opposite Harvey, Bruce is sitting comfortably. He has notable eyebags and less light in his eyes than Harvey, but smiles in earnest admiration.]

Bruce: I think you're right. Maroni used to own the city, but ever since you, Jim and Batman started working together...

[Panel seven. Side shot of both of them from Bruce's right and Harvey's left, showing them down to their legs. Bruce leans forward. Harvey has sat back down. In the background, their memories conjure a vision of Batman and Harvey shaking hands before the Bat-Signal. The figures' lower halves fade to translucent above and behind their real counterpart's heads. That Harvey is smiling too and the one leaning forward, while Batman's mouth is a flat line but his eyes are soft.]

things have changed more than I could have imagined.

Harvey: I just hope we can keep it up. Maybe in a few years, Gotham won't need a Batman.

[Panel eight. Close-up on the right half of Bruce's face, a narrow vertical box in the upper left section of the screen. His expression is of shock and vulnerability, although he isn’t offended. He has simply never considered being able to end his crusade before. Panel nine. A bigger square containing his entire face and taking up the rest of the screen.]

Bruce: Do you really believe that?

[Panel ten. Closer front shot of Harvey at eye-level. We can now see that he actually does have bags under his eyes. He's more pensive and his smile drops.]

Harvey: Yeah. I mean, Bats is a great guy. I don't want him to just disappear. But his methods...

[Panel eleven. Deep shot. Two petty crooks run through an alleyway at night while Batman looms behind them atop a ledge, a huge, hulking silhouette crouched animalistically with piercing white eyes and clawed fingers raised to pounce. The scene is somewhat abstracted to highlight the criminals' emotions. The alley walls seem to be closing in on them and Batman's curling cape flows into the surrounding darkness. Angle is above the very small-looking criminals, but below Batman such that his striking, soulless eyes glare right at the reader. Harvey's speech bubbles are in the top left and bottom right corners, framed by the blackness.]

fighting violence with violence and terror with terror... they're hardly ideal, are they?

[Panel eleven. Harvey places his right hand on Bruce's left arm in pride, who is too busy processing to return his smaller, softer smile of personal affection. Side shot from Harvey's left and Bruce's right that cuts them off at the torso.]

In my opinion, the work you're doing with the Wayne Foundation does better at lowering crime rates in the long run.

[Panel twelve. Over-the-shoulder shot again, Harvey's this time to show Bruce full of love, relaxing and leaning into the touch.]

Bruce: Well, in my opinion, you're a better person than me or Batman.

[His second speech bubble descends into the empty space.]

And I’d love to see the day Batman can retire.

[Panel thirteen and fourteen occupy different vertical halves of the screen and the same horizontal space for half of their lengths, the former higher, the second lower. The first shows Harvey from the right cut off at the thighs, in a courtroom, delivering some kind of unwritten passionate declaration; on his left and in the background, the defendant, the aforementioned crime boss Maroni in a nice black suit, holds an opaque bottle labelled as cough medicine and smirks viciously. The second is a close-up of Harvey’s head on the floor. Only the right half of his face is visible, the left turned away, and he is howling in unfathomable agony, tears streaming down his cheek. The stem of his speech bubble reaches down to the top of panel fifteen. This is a straightforward frontal shot of Bruce in the present. He stands tense and grim, poised to throw a Batarang with his right arm. Silver moonbeams shine through the broken skylight. Layered in front of the panel’s top border and behind Bruce, Harvey’s scream appears to ring through the cowl’s bat ears and extends continuously offscreen in extra large, blood-red lettering. The bubble fades around it to make it stand against the background.]

Harvey: ARGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Bruce: Two-Face.

[Panel sixteen. Same angle of Harvey and Two-Face. The left half of their face is ravaged by raw, pink chemical burn scars and has a bloodshot eye with burned lids; even their right eye is sunken and shadowed with a menacing glint; their hair is the same on the right, but bleached white, longer and wild on the left; they wear an angular, elegant suit divided vertically in alternating black and white. They’re smiling smugly, posture calm, confident and commanding. Their right hand aims a pistol at Bruce, and the camera. The other hand, bereft of a ring, holds their two-headed coin. Their introduction box reads: ‘Harvey Dent & Two-Face. All the drive. Fractional sanity. Half the morals, or less.’. The outlines of their speech bubbles are smooth as usual on the right and rough and scribbled on the left when both alters in the system are in relative cooperation - a dual consciousness referred to as ‘H/TF’ in the script - completely smooth when the still goodhearted, but deeply troubled Harvey is speaking alone, and completely irregular for the much more merciless, callous Two-Face personality alone.]

H/TF: Bats! Let us guess: you didn’t bring any backup because you have a self-righteous hero complex about us in particular?

[Panel seventeen. Closer frontal shot of Bruce scowling and hunching his shoulders in shameful concession.]

Two-Face: Good. Those Robins are nothing but trouble.

[Panel eighteen. Long rectangle panning down the room. Bruce and H/TF are in the background as H/TF gesture with their left arm to two men dressed like high-level businessmen in the foreground, tied to chairs with a gun pressed to each of their heads by H/TF's identical twin henchmen. The captives are bruised, cut and slumped in exhaustion.]

H/TF: Now, take one step toward us and the hostages get it. Don't go feeling sorry for them. They work for Oswald Cobblepot. His reform is fake -

H/TF and Bruce: Obviously.

H/TF: And they've already told us everything.

[Panel nineteen. Horizontal side shot from Bruce's left and H/TF's right, to frame the hostages between them.]

H/TF: But if you go after us, you'll lose your best lead on his criminal activities.

Bruce: And people will be dead.

H/TF: Yeah, whatever.

[Panel twenty. Close shot of H/TF from the left. They look left, contemplating their coin in their open hand. One face is corroded and blackened by acid, the other shiny and clean, both visible as it's drawn in a motion frame while spinning.]

You say that making our decisions based on chance is irrational and unhealthy, but believing in free will isn't all roses either. So many tough choices.

[Panel twenty-one is small box in the middle of the screen capturing the impact of the Batarang knocking the gun out of one of the henchmen's hand. H/TF's speech bubble floats in the space below it.]

There's never a win-win, is there?

[Panel twenty-two, a vertical rectangle. In the lower foreground and to the right, a gleeful H/TF bolt to the slight right of the camera, relishing both their escape and how unhappy their enemy is. In the background, Bruce restrains the armed henchman with a bolas while knocking the unarmed one out behind him with a backhanded blow. His cape billows with his rapid movement.]

At least the coin lets us be unpredictable!

[Panel twenty-three. Angle is essentially Bruce's POV. H/TF glance over their right shoulder, showing their unscarred features twisted in mockery, and sarcastically wave with their gun. They're just beyond the doorway.]

By the way, we're very good at getting two things done at once. You might wanna check your car.

[Panel twenty-four. Outside. Bruce's shadow falls from below the border diagonally over the Batmobile. Its tyres are slashed. Its fuel is leaking out into a puddle underneath it. In the next panel, we see him at eye height past the front end of the car. He has fallen to his knees, head hung.]

Bruce: Oracle? You were right. I need help.

[The black sheen of the Batmobile fades into a flat black background below. But then, within the darkness, floats a speech bubble.]

Barbara: You've already got it.

[Panel twenty-six. The first two sentences are in a bubble at the top, connected to the final sentence’s one dead in the middle. She's viewed from behind at a low angle looking up at her computer monitor. Her shoulders are assertively squared. Her security camera footage is split in two; Bruce and the crippled Batmobile are in the left window and H/TF's getaway car (also black on one side and white on the other) racing along a road in the right.]

We've been gathering intel. We know where Two-Face will strike next - and you know him as well as he knows you. Let's make a plan B.

Part 2

[Panel one. Distant establishing shot of a brightly lit black-tie gala in a vast, ornate hall, the tasteful decor dominated by white, light blues and silver. A caption informs us that this is 'The Cobblepot 'Charity' Gala'. Oswald Cobblepot is in the heart of the crowd, shaking hands with some official. Bruce Wayne is within earshot, but nearer the double doors. Panel two is a lower, tighter horizontal rectangle where Oswald and his guests are staring at the camera with tiny black dots for eyes in alarm at the doors slamming open. H/TF’s shadow falls over the floor. Panel three shows that Harvey and Two-Face have invited themselves, holding an assault rifle in both hands. Three smaller vertical panels on alternating sides of the screen show the doors being locked by pairs of Two-Face's minions in contrasting, complemetary outfits and wielding guns. The bird’s eye view of panel seven makes it clear that the guests are surrounded and trapped. Panel eight cuts back to H/TF.]

H/TF: Good evening, scum and enablers. We're -

[Panel nine takes us closer to focus on their - or rather, Harvey's - surprise.]

Harvey: Bruce? What are you doing here?

[Panel ten is a frontal shot of Bruce, like the camera's been reversed in the same position. His confusion is an act, but his concern is real.]

Bruce: I'm the richest man in Gotham and this is a high-society gala. What are you doing here?

[Panel eleven. Side shot that doesn’t show the scarring. Harvey lowers the gun, eyes softening as Bruce reaches out to him.]

I thought we agreed that you still needed treatment.

Harvey: I…

[Panel twelve. Frontal short. Remembering his mission, Harvey loses a degree of control and the two embittered alters lightly push Bruce away and point the gun straight ahead at Oswald with a glare. Motion lines trail from their arm.]

H/TF: That doesn’t matter! What matters is taking down the Penguin!

[Panel thirteen. Oswald presses a hand to his chest, somehow at once mortified and supercilious. You can hear the melodramatic sad violin. Beside him, his associates are cowering and aghast.]

Oswald: Why, everyone knows that I’m reformed. Attacking me when I’m doing good just proves how far you’ve fallen.

[Panel fourteen. H/TF snap at him furiously, and their speech bubble is large, spiky (still with the different texturing) and has a red outline for emphasis. Their eyes are stylized as flames; their right eye’s flame is orange and the left’s blue. Bruce is giving Oswald an intense sidelong glare. His lettering is smaller and his bubble's outline dashed to indicate that he's speaking under his breath.]

H/TF: SHUT UP!

Bruce: Shut up.

[Panel fifteen. Wide low angle shot up into the shadowy rafters. Damian, Dick and Tim are hiding in their vigilante identities and watching the scene below intently, at the ready. Their speech bubbles are dashed as they’re whispering. Damian is tense like a coiled spring, hand is on the hilt of his sword. Dick’s facial expression is blatantly disdainful of the villain in question, but his position and body language are calmer. Tim is all business.]

Damian: Shouldn’t we -

Tim: Not until the signal, remember? We don’t want to escalate and endanger the civilians.

[Panel sixteen. Close-up profile shot of Dick.]

Dick: Yeah, I hate Two-Face, but Bruce has got through to Harvey before.

[Panel seventeen. H/TF aim their gun with their right hand as their left reaches into their pocket to take out their coin. Their jaw is tight in composed ire. Diagonal angle to show Bruce on their right, overlaid by the gun. HT/F's speech bubble is near their head, but Harvey's is under the panel-dividing horizontal line of the gun.]

H/TF: You have the right to remain silent, forever.

Harvey: Bruce, get out of here.

[Panel eighteen, a square. Bruce is alone in the frame. He folds his arms, Batman's stern, steely presence creeping into his expression and posture.]

Bruce: Whatever you're willing to do to those people, you can do to me.

[Panel ninteen. Same composition with H/TF. They frown, the unscarred features looking regretful while the scarred ones look annoyed and disdainful.]

H/TF: Fine. Just stay out of our way.

[Panel twenty. Close up as they flip their coin. We get the blurring motion displaying both sides again. The next panel is a repeat shot where Bruce’s right hand snatches the coin in midair.]

H/TF: HEY! Give it back!

[Panel twenty-one. Extreme close-up, narrow horizontal parallelogram focused on Bruce's defiant stare. His speech bubble floats close underneath.]

Bruce: No.

[Panel twenty-two. He holds the coin out of reach. The camera is angled over and to the side of Bruce's left shoulder, to put as much visual distance between his outstretched right hand and H/TF as possible, Bruce's body in between them. H/TF’s left hand is balled into fist around the lowered gun while their right gestures like they’re arguing a case in a courtroom. They look resentful, but also coldly resigned. The speech bubbles can extend out of the panel. In the backgroud, some of the guests are depicted as simplified, featureless figures.]

H/TF: They aren’t worth sticking your neck out for. Nobody in Gotham is -

Harvey: I learned that the hard way.

Bruce: And I’ve learned otherwise. This won’t make things better, Harvey.

[Panel twenty-three. Two-Face fixes the gun on Bruce with a sadistic, unhinged snarl that’s distinctly his own.]

Two-Face: Listen, Wayne, I don’t care for you a bit. Give us our coin back or I’ll -

[Panel twenty-four. Bruce raises an eyebrow.]

Bruce: But what if it’s good heads?

[Panel twenty-five. Two-Face freezes. A ‘Twitch’ sound effect is at the corner of his right eye. Panel twenty-seven. A henchman aims his own gun with nervous eagerness.]

Henchman: I'll get your coin for you, boss!

[Panel twenty-six. The vigilantes leap down from the rafters. Dick's already thrown a Wingding to disarm him that flies downward rotating and seems to cut the shape of the panel, which has a tapering lower end.]

Dick: No!

[Large red 'BANG!' sound effect between panels. Panel twenty-seven is a small box in the middle of the screen showing the Wingding knocking the smoking gun away a split-second too late. Panel twenty-eight. Bruce and Harvey in the background and the bullet in the foreground are centred. Harvey slams into Bruce and knocks him down with his full weight, briefly putting himself in the path of the bullet.]

Harvey: Bruce!

[Panel twenty-nine. Long, vertical rectangle panning down from above the vigilantes standing in dramatic heroic landing poses at the top of the frame, wearing varyingly emotive expressions of shock, to Bruce lying propped up by his elbow and Harvey on his hands and knees at the bottom. The discarded assault rifle hits the floor between Harvey and the vigilantes with a 'Clatter' sound effect in yellow, uneven text. The coin slips out of Bruce's hand with a motion line to rest between him and Harvey. Panel thirty. Angle at eye level with Bruce and Harvey. Bruce sits up. He stares at Harvey with shining eyes and the beginnings of a smile as he processes what just happened, and what didn’t precede it.]

Bruce: You saved my life.

[Panel thirty-one. Angle is behind Bruce’s head. Harvey avoids eye contact, showing Bruce his unscarred profile. He’s solemn and though he too has a relieved hint of a smile, it doesn’t reach his eyes.]

Harvey: You never stop trying to save me. It was the least I could do.

[Panel thirty-two. Harvey’s POV. Low angle, tilted up at Bruce on his feet, offering his hand to help him up. We can tell that it’s Harvey’s perspective with both eyes because the left half of the image is dim and blurry due to the damage the acid did to his left eye. The speech bubbles are exclusively on the right.]

Bruce: It isn’t too late, Harvey. You can still heal. You can get better, be better.

[Panel thirty-three. Close-up on the right half of Harvey’s face, a narrow vertical box in the upper left section of the screen. His expression is of tentative, wary hope and raw vulnerability. He has wanted to end his crusade throughout its duration, but never been able to. Panel thirty-four. A bigger square containing his entire face and taking up the rest of the screen.]

Harvey: Do you really believe that?

[Panel thirty-five. Side shot that now only shows the side shot of Harvey’s face. Bruce kneels down be closer to eye level with him.]

Bruce: Yes. Always, I’ve been where you are. Feeling like you can never be more than all your pain and anger. But if you want a second opinion, I think you’re a better person than you know.

[Panel thirty-four. A square in the middle of the screen. Harvey’s right hand reaches out to Bruce’s waiting one, but lingers, tense and trembling, above the coin. Panel thirty-five. Vertical rectangle. Harvey shrinks in on himself, hunched over with his face buried in his arms and hands clutching his hair; perhaps he doesn’t trust himself not to pick up the coin and give Two-Face a means to make harmful decisions, just can’t make another choice of his own or both. Around him blackness with spiky, scribbled inner edges consume the screen like reality is fracturing or dissolving, or some all-consuming destructive force is coming for him.]

Harvey: Just… just take us to Arkham. We deserve it. We need help.

[The black extends, replacing the white background. But then, within the darkness, floats a speech bubble.]

Bruce: You’ve already got it.

[Fade into panel thirty-six. Horizontal rectangle. Distant, high angle. The black lightens to purple and becomes the night sky, which is warming to pink at the first moment of dawn. Harvey is handcuffed, about to enter a police car on his right. A cop is escorting him. However, Bruce has his left arm around his shoulders and they’re both in relatively good moods, similar to how they were in the flashback.]

Harvey: When did you get so optimistic, Mr Gothic McBrooding?

Bruce: Someone has to be. And hey, I had a good teacher.

[musubiki]

lol I love the idea that Clarinette in her “Lime collects weird things I’ll find some weird things for him!” she accidentally finds something SUPER rare and hands it to him and he just casually pockets it. He thinks he can just get away with giving it to Mochi and taking all the credit but then has a mental crisis of LYING????? to MOCHI???????

Funny continuation of this is it’s AM (after Mochi) so he sheepishly confesses that Clarinette is the one who found it and Mochi goes up and thanks her

Sad contunuation of this is it’s BM (before Mochi) is him having a mental crisis of how dare he even think of lying to her. He would never lie to her before she left! What’s changed in me. And then slowly watching it wilt away.

OKAY FOR ALL FOUR OF THESE POINTS I WANNA SAY SOMETHINGS!!!!! first of all i love it and it makes me sad and happy thinking about them :')

1 ) first i think clarinette would think its so cute that lime collects random stuff. everyone says "Ah nice, so the witches cant use it. good thinking" but clarinette sees just a LITTLE bit past it and thinks its a weird and endearing hobby of his. imagine how disillusioned she is when she finds out "Oh, this cute quirky thing he does isnt actually a cute quirky thing, its him thinking of the other woman the whole damn time."

2 ) LIME ACTUALLY LIES TO MOCHI MORE THAN HE SHOULD!!!!!!!! and it SUCKS because its always to save himself from looking like a simp or a dumbass because the truth is embarrassing for him, but it damages her levels of trust in him unfortunately. and she keeps telling him to stop but then another thing comes up where he doesnt want to admit the truth so he lies again (lime flaw). one example is when she asks him why he stays in the m34th, and his answer is "Because they pay well and I'm bored," but no matter how much extra commissions she finds and money she can magic up, he stays anyway. she has to learn from fucking clarinette that he stays because they make him stronger (real lime quote). he doesnt want to tell mochi that he feels so inadequate and inferior when he cant keep up with her, and the m34th is the only way to get his ass up to her level consistently. without it hes back to 16 year old lime who can barely help for shit in the face of magic and monsters

3 ) THAT LAST POINT IS SO TCWG IN NATURE!!!!!!!!!!! lime finding a super rare ingredient and its about to go bad so fuck it, sell it to the merchant. maybe he can keep it fresher than me and i get some money for it. and mochi sees it among the merchants wares and buys it :') bonus points if however shes keeping it fresh with magic, he sees it among her spell ingredients years later. its not IMPOSSIBLE to find one, its just so rare that makes him think if its the same one <3

(and of course the merchant doesnt say shit about where he got it. mochi goes "wow! so rare! where did you get this!" and instead of telling the TRUTH he goes "Industry secret!")

[perenlop]

pokeani moments that exist purely to make Me miserable:

the line where they call ash's oshawott a throwaway pokemon in the unova league so they're just flat out saying they think it's a worthless pokemon

to thine own pokemon be true (extra angst points for me bc ambipom was my second favorite on the team at the time)

the granddaughter of the guy who trains gliscor calling gliscor pathetic and weak to her face despite gliscor being an extremely sensitive pokemon

pretty much everything about that gible

blue episode (favorite color but they made it a fetish somehow and also dewott and brionne and meowstic are all there and its so bad)

boxing heracross immediately. also that battle frontier episode where it's literally the only returning ash mon (barring torkoal i think but i dont count it bc its native to AG) to get humiliated onscreen

pidgeot returning but gliscor didn't even show up in the miniseries despite being an Actual Character

[idiaa-shroxd]

Your cat cafe au is so much fun and so soft I adore it but hearing that Malleus and Leona's cats are friends is so funny to me and spawned the worst idea XD Prefect: Leona, Nebula is pregnant Leona: ...By who? Prefect gestures to Oatmeal and Nebula cuddling.

we share the same brain!! actually working on the cat au ask right now, but have a few irl emergencies that prevented my writing, and here’s a little bit of it! but first let me just say this is 100% my thought process if you and rook have yet to neuter the kitties. oatmeal and nebula have a romeo and juliet love story! \(//∇//)\ more under cut! this isn’t canon in the au or anything but a fun concept!!

“Nebula has never looked better, he scooped her up in one arm and held her firmly against his bicep, smug as she meowed up at him and purred loudly. He had zero hesitation to hold her while walking to his fated rival, looking him and his cat up and down before scoffing. The two proceeded to argue over who’s cat looked better wearing their dorm uniform for a bit, as the two cats seemed content in their arms without hostility to one another. - Leona Kingscholar

Malleus Draconia - As Leona argues with him half his brain has melted to this is the greatest cat. Cat precious. My firstborn is the best in this world. The other half of him smugly picks up his son in his own arm, the cat against his own bicep as he begins talking about how regal he is. Honestly, his cat is just happy to spend time with him and begins playfully nipping at him after not getting enough attention.”

anyways back to the ask!! I’d like to imagine if that actually happened then leona would freak out at malleus, while malleus is shocked he is getting his first grandchild with you already as you reiterate that is a cat, and you both are not married. he’s not listening, to you or leona. they end up being that in law family that despise one another thoroughly like my child is too good for your child but i don’t want to lose custody of my grandchild. cats tend to have multiple kitties at once so im thinking depending on the amount the may definitely mean the boys now live ay Ramshackle with the kittens, with Nebula nipping at her dad proudly showing him her babies and Oatmeal showing his dad his babies too, forcing the two men to bond despite their prominent scowls, but they avoid being too loud because you remind them kittens are sensitive to noises. (。-∀-)

they’d definitely end up trying to adopt the kittens when you graduate.. but that custody battle is a talk for a different day. on the bright side Oatmeal and Nebula finally get to stay with each other openly as they raise the kitties.

for anyone curious ( ^ω^ ) been busy these past few weeks with art fight, and my cat needed a vet emergency, still have to return to the vet later this week, but i’m also working on a r-18 birthday leona fic! friendly reminder my navigation does say mdni and you are responsible for the content on my profile that you view!♪

Σ('◉⌓◉’) actually haven’t written r-18 works for social media in a bit, but i will try my best to make the fic! if anyone does not want to view the content, please block the tag “shrouded in desire.” which i will be tagging the fic, and all r-18+ fics on my profile for those who do not want to see the content!

[tleeaves]

Reclining on a fainting couch, hands laced together and resting over my stomach as I stare up at the ceiling. Why the fuck do I so frequently end up caught between being attracted to mean guys (and gals) but also the wife material guys? Duality of man is falling for both all the time, apparently, and never knowing which I actually genuinely like better.

I wrote out a whole theory about why I like mean people before I realised the logic no longer applied to my current circumstances/character and now I'm back at square one. Perhaps the real answer is as lame as: because I like a challenge and the idea that someone treats me Extra Special compared to how they treat others.

At the end of the day, idk.

[icewindandboringhorror]

Apparently I can meet my goal of roughly 400,000 words in 6 months if I just somehow write at least 2,200 words a day ghbjh... Almost 2,500 today... huzzah...

[tea-cat-arts]

Every time I think I’m done ranting about how terribly Kevin’s character was handled, Mihoyo finds new and inventive ways of upsetting me. Anyways, I know the game wants me to like… be upset with Kevin for ignoring Dr. MEI’s last wish and all, but honestly I think he should ignore more of them. It’d be better for his health