#this is part of my current wip

[morganski-19]

Thank you for the tag @mentallyundone

Rules: in a new post, show the last line you wrote and tag as many people as there are words (don't know if i'll tag that many people but I'll try)

"I just want him to see that there's someone who wants to make him happy, even after all of it."

of course, the last line I had to write was dialogue.

@olicreates @berenwrites @ellietheasexylibrarian @carlprocastinator1000 @hahahahahaveryfunny @seaottersandstrings @corrodedcoffin89 @lolawonsstuff @rpa-books @iaminmultiplefandoms @i-threw-my-name-out-the-window @theinfinitetbr @spiffycawfee @tumbling-rocks-no-danger

[mora-is-meep]

Inspired by this busted lad from @shiftythrifting I wanted to make a red-eyed sculpt based on him for a jewelry/ring dish. Since I live in AZ I didn't want to go with a scarf so he's sporting a posh little vest.

[r0sie-bun]

More pages!

[g1rlr0b1n]

Yet another commission by the amazingly talented @ookamihanta!!! Go check out their page to see more art!!! Their commissions are still open so go check that out as well!!! I highly recommend them!!! 👹

Gods and Demons (Preview)

Damian's preparations for departure were almost complete when Superman hailed him down. For a moment, Damian considered pretending he had not seen him, but ultimately rose to meet the two men who had now landed gracefully beside him and Goliath. He was familiar with the man known as Superman, but the second man was a stranger to him. He was tall with wavy dark locks framing a sharp jawline and piercing steely grey-blue eyes, he bore a resemblance to the other man. He had a pretty good idea now of who he might be. The man's attire was peculiar though, causing Damian to wrinkle his nose slightly in disapproval. He wore a black suit adorned with shimmering silver stars, his deep crimson colored cloak billowing behind him. The most unnerving part of his uniform however, was the obvious missing "S" shield in the center of his chest, leaving the skin underneath exposed for all to see. Damian quickly averted his gaze, focusing back on Superman. “What’s this?” Damian's features contorted in suspicion as Superman extended a piece of paper towards him.

“An olive branch” he replied calmly, then motioned to the tall figure standing next to him, Kal-El cleared his throat, “this is my son, Zod-El. He will be stationed in Tibet with you for the foreseeable future.” There was a moment of tense silence as if to allow for Damian to process the information. Then, Superman spoke again, breaking the stillness. "Consider him an ambassador of good faith," he said firmly.

Damian scoffed, crossing his arms, “Tt. More like a spy to make sure I behave," he retorted with a sharp edge to his voice. The Justice League's true intentions were clear, they had their own agenda, but he intended to manipulate it to his advantage. Despite their lack of trust in Damian's ability to change the League of Assassins, it gave them an excuse to keep him under observation and under their protection. They needed to keep Damian alive regardless of his intentions because the absolute worst case scenario for them would be for him to lose control. It was an obvious choice, he was the only option with ties to the Justice League and a genuine desire to make the world better, even if his methods had not been received well by them. He could only stand to benefit from such a relationship, nonetheless, he’d make them work for it.

Superman let out a weary sigh, his broad shoulders slumping in exhaustion, “you agreed to observation after the attempts on your life," he reminded Damian sternly. The mention of those close calls made Damian flinch slightly, the memories still fresh and painful. Ever since his grandfather’s passing things had not gone as smoothly as anticipated, with everyone with even the slightest of claims coming out of the woodworks, but he survived and he’d continue to do so. Of course, some extra protection would be prudent, even though he had managed to reunite his family giving him the most claim, the attacks still occurred. His mother had even begun to express concern, certain that there was a rat among his inner circle. Damian didn’t want to consider that, the notion that the people he cared for most wanted him dead. Although it was a reality that he hated to admit, he could probably benefit from an impartial set of eyes and ears. Yet, Damian was proud if nothing else and he refused to allow anyone to think him weak.

"That may be," Damian huffed, "but I never agreed to an indefinite placement and certainly not from one of your B-list cast offs." His lip curled teasingly as he surveyed the man clad in black in front of him. He was curious to see how he would react.

The man grit his teeth and extended a hand with a forced smile. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Dam-”

Damian interrupted firmly, his piercing gaze fixed on the man's face. “You may call me The Demon’s Head.”

The man chuckled nervously as he pushed back some unruly curls from his forehead. “No offense but...” he hesitated before continuing, “I’d rather call you anything else.”

Damian's lips curled into a menacing smile, his pearly whites barred behind a mask of feigned politeness. "Then, may I have the pleasure of calling you Jonathan?" The man remained silent, his expression guarded. Damian pressed on. "surprised that I know your other name?"

He cleared his throat, his voice betraying forced calmness as he responded, "Not really...and it's just Jon."

The smile fell from Damian's face, replaced by a look of disdain, "I'd rather call you anything else." The lack of push back from his opponent was slightly off-putting, it was simply no fun if they just stood there and took it. But then again, what did he really expect from the son of the Big Blue Boy Scout, always so righteous and obedient.

The tension between them hung heavy in the air, like a thick fog that refused to dissipate. Goliath finally broke the awkward silence with a restless shift, his large frame causing the ground to tremble beneath him. "I see there's no point in arguing with you," he grumbled, casting a patronizing look at Jon. "If Super Slut is ready to depart, then we shall." With the grace of a seasoned rider, Damian pulled himself up and swung himself onto his fiery red companion, feeling the heat emanating from its powerful body. Beside him, Jon effortlessly lifted himself off the ground and into the air. The bat dragon spread its massive wings and with a few strong flaps they ascended into the sky.

[dss1101]

"Jason is smart, okay? Though that may not exactly be the first word that comes to mind when most people think of the Red Hood. Words like brute, violent, and crazy, sure, those are words he expects. It’s not like they’re untrue, and he worked hard to cultivate that image of himself, thank you very much. But being Robin’s a tough gig, you don’t survive being Robin if you aren’t smart. 

Huh, maybe he’s not as smart as he thinks."

I love writing Jason because he's an overflowing container of a backstory worthy of dark humor. Ugh he's the best

[my-gf-timothy-jackson-drake]

hot dog lookin ass

[peceraynadamas]

Oh wow, it’s escalator from the hit adult animated musical comedy hazbin hotel. He sure is a guy.

Dipping in the radiostatic (radiosilence?) pond as well. Vox is such a loser I love him. I hope we get to see him at his most pathetic next season.

& WIP of Husk and Nifty.

[o-kai]

Rainmaster WIP

[rawliverandgoronspice]

guess who's having a normal one again

[grimalkinscribbles]

Casually romanticizing the horrors that lurk just beneath the surface of dark waters

[agentravensong]

characters who see themselves as more of a Force or an abstract concept acting in the world than as a person. characters who prioritize their role as a cog in some greater mechanism over their own personhood. characters who get their hands dirty, who run themselves ragged, who take on an unbearable weight, who hurt or neglect or give up or straight-up betray the people and things they once held close, because they believe in doing so they are fulfilling their Purpose, the thing they exist in this world to do (and no one else will do it, *can* do it, so it has to be them). characters who've determined that they are constructs bound to preprogrammed code, to a script already written for them by someone/something else, and have been operating under that mindset for so long that they don't know how to live on their own terms. characters who uphold the fate that is smothering them. can anyone hear me

[smolsaturn-png]

They better announce Steel Ball Run soon or I'm gonna lose my gourd.

Still a work in progress but i'd call this a finished black and white piece!! Should be able to post the final render within a few days???

[ame-to-ame]

still working on tweening and etc but small self-indulgent sneak peek hehe

[g1rlr0b1n]

Yet another commission by the amazingly talented @ookamihanta!!! Go check out their page to see more art!!! Their commissions are still open so go check that out as well!!! I highly recommend them!!! 🦉

Into the Owl's Nest (Preview)

Damian's eyes snapped open and he jolted up in bed, gasping for air as if he had been drowning. His skin was clammy and his heart raced in his chest. As his senses returned, the cold, musty scent of damp stone and earth filled his nostrils. He strained to see in the darkness, but could only make out the faint outline of a room surrounding him. The distant sound of rushing water echoed through the space, causing a shiver to run down his spine. With a sinking feeling in his gut, Damian realized that he must be deep underground, and he realized where he must be. This was the Owl’s Nest.

The faint clicking of heels echoed on the stone ground, growing closer with each step. He strained his eyes against the darkness as he searched for an escape. Too late. The door creaked open and a woman glided in, her form encased in a skin-tight nylon suit, feathers adorned the top of her cape. Her blonde hair was pulled back tightly, emphasizing her fierce features, while a mask obscured her eyes. Damian maintained a stoic expression as she spoke, her words dripping with disdain, "so, you must be Talia's brat," she spat. Her eyes roamed over his form, obscured by the mask she wore. The coldness in her voice matched the chill in the air, sending shivers down his spine. Her eyes narrowed behind the intricate mask, scanning him from head to toe with a mixture of curiosity and contempt. The silence between them was thick with tension but Damian maintained his composure.

When he did not speak she continued, “your father wishes to see you.” Damian's muscles tensed at the mention of his father but he remained still, not daring to give her any satisfaction. Not even when she glided across the room, her movements fluid like a predator stalking its prey did he move to get up from the bed. With a swift motion, she pulled him up by his arm, her long nails digging into his flesh. He gritted his teeth against the pain, knowing better than to show weakness. She dragged him along, her grip unrelenting, until they reached a large open space. A wall was lined with computers and equipment, and there, behind the glow of computer screens, sat a man clad in all back. The Owlman.

The man slowly turned to face him, his expression unreadable. "I hope you don't mind," he began in a smooth, almost mocking tone, "your mother and I decided it would be best if I took custody of you." Damian felt a surge of anger rise up in the pit of his stomach, a rage that was only met by the man's cruel smile.

"You killed my mother," Damian growled through gritted teeth, his hands clenched into fists at his sides.

“I suppose that’s true,” he shrugged carelessly, “it pained me to do so, I loved her-”

"Obsession is not love," Damian spat out bitterly, his control slipping as memories from last night flooded back. "That's not love...and when you couldn't have her..." His voice trailed off, trembling, as tears threatened to spill from his eyes. Damian had loved his mother more than anything, and this man had taken her away from him without a second thought.

The man's eyes hardened and for a moment, Damian could see the darkness lurking behind them, "let it be a lesson to you then," he sneered. "You may share my blood, but if I have no use for you, you can join her."

Damian was smart enough to know when someone was bluffing, and this man was not, he was well aware that this man would snuff him out the moment he stepped out of line. Refusing to show any weakness, Damian stood tall and pushed aside his emotions. "What use do you have for me then, father?" he asked, maintaining a calm and collected façade despite the turmoil within.

His features twisted into a smirk, “I’m glad you asked,” he stood from his chair to tower over the boy, “As you may or may not be aware, Ultraman was our esteemed leader until his most recent and unfortunate demise. His twisted obsession with his other selves was finally his downfall. Ironic.” The glint of joy in his eyes betrayed his words. “There are a few would be successors but of course I have my preference.” 

Owlman paused as if waiting for Damian to ask a question but Damian knew there was only an answer he sought. And Damian was nothing, if not adaptable. “Naturally, it should be you, father," he replied smoothly. He’d play along for now, he’d tell the crazed man whatever assurances he needed to hear. Afterall, he was somewhere underground surrounded by enemies, and if he hoped for any chance of survival, he’d have to be smart about it.

“Smart boy,” he scoffed, then continued, “Ultraman leaves behind his wife and son, Lois has already begun pushing for Jor-El to claim his father’s seat but he is just a child. Barely 19. He needs…” he paused again as if searching for the right words, “a friend more than a title.”

Damian raised an eyebrow in question, “you wish me to befriend him?”

“Sure…and who knows what may happen once you two become close.” Owlman shrugged, a wicked smirk spread across his features, contorting them into a menacing expression.

Damian racked his brain for meaning. Did his father want him close to Jor-El to distract him, to manipulate him, or to kill him? Did his father even care as long as he could take power? Finally, Damian broke the silence with a slow, measured voice. “I can only assume you have some means for me to arrange a meeting with him?”

“Of course,” he motioned toward the blonde woman who had been lurking in the corner. “Beth, please ensure that Damian is presentable for this evening's introduction to the rest of the Syndicate. Make him look…enticing.”

Damian suddenly became aware of another possibility.

[i-am-a-fan]

While I work on a comic (that may or may not get uploaded) have a small sketch from it. You deserve it <3

[sofia-not-sophie]

Okay I’m tired of long fic ideas in my wips but I need writer juices flowing anyone have any Batfam and/or superbat 5+1 ideas they want to see?