#with a really old fic

[romansleftshoulderpad]

As a writer, I love going back through the comments I've gotten on AO3. I promise that the minute you take of your time has been appreciated for hours/months/years

[starry-bi-sky]

FUNNIEST fucking shit that comes with making Danny eleven years old when he had his accident in "late at night, when the nightingale sings" is the implication following, that everything that happened in the show did too. And I fully intend on (mostly) keeping it like that. There'll be some changes (of which I need to figure out) but for the most part??? Yeah relatively the same.

Like I FULLY intend on keeping Dark Danny occurring 6 months post accident. Do you know how fucking HILARIOUS that is??? That Dan got his ass kicked by a goddamn FIFTH-SIXTH GRADER?? I'd never show my face ever again. Homeboy spent the last ten years being a one-man mass extinction event, only to get his ass beat by a kid who hasn't even lost his last baby tooth. That's hysterical. I'm losing my mind just thinking about it.

AND PARIAH DARK TOO. Imagine being an eons old tyrant capable of dragging whole towns down into your dimension, and you get singehandedly shoved back into your coffin in less than 48 hours by a kid whose bedtime is still 8:30. You didn't even have the time to expand your army! You were still trying to take over the city the kid came from!

And he just!!! Shoves you back in!! Insane! This kid hasn't even been dead for a full year yet! He's still growing in his ghost fangs! And he just knocked you flat on your ass in an oversized mech suit. What the fuck! It's like looking down and seeing a four week old kitten meowing very indignantly at you and trying to bite your feet, except that kitten is also actually a black-footed cat and they have a 60% kill success rate, and oops! Now you're dead. You took too long laughing at the kitten trying to attack you that it clawed up your pant leg and ripped out your throat.

COULD I, realistically, span these episodes out over the course of 2.5 years prior to Danny's family dying?? Yes I could! Do I think it's hilarious (and horribly traumatizing, which makes it twice as fun) to shove all of this into the span of (roughly) a year instead?? Yes. Because the show has such a skewed timeline that I've always just assumed that at the end of the show, Danny was starting his sophomore year in high school. So fuck it, lets go for it!

[ash-and-starlight]

When Zuko hit the floor the teacups clattered down with him: one shattered, one rolled under the brazier. Sokka pinned him down. He felt the pulse of each staccato breath under his sock. Zuko did not look too put out. The firelight shivered over his scarred eye. The exposed cleft of his throat bobbed. "You win."

The Mercy of Magpies ch5 is out Now!!

written by the incredible @ranilla-bean (who had a stern parent talk with the fic so that she would complete her homeworks in time and with an A+++) and betaed by @faux-fires

Chapter Post || Cover || Map and Characters || Ch 2 || Ch 3.1 || Ch 3.2 || Ch.4

[demaparbat-hp]

He noticed the spears resting not too far away from the women. Zuko squinted his eyes and recoiled at the sight of blood painting the blades, in clear contrast to the whimsical whites and blues of the South. These women were hunters.

The Southern Water Tribe brings shades of white to Zuko's soul in For The Spirits Chapter IX: A Rider Alone.

Sharpened mothers and fatherless children resting on the back of tattered tents. A Ghost-Mother, a shapeless howl, and the blue eyes from his dream—everything comes together in the land of the Midnight Sun.

[meteortrails]

mattfoggy from the like 2016 daredevil show were actually so crazy bc like. you’re best friends, you’re each others emergency contacts, everything that you’ve built for yourself as an adult is something you built together, and yet at the same time. your best friend has been lying to you since the day you fucking met. you know each other better than truly anyone else in the whole fucking world, and there is a fundamental piece of his existence that he never told you about. this shit could ruin everything you’ve built, could get him killed, and he didn’t tell you a word of it.

and on the flipside: here’s the one person you’ve ever gotten close to without getting abandoned, and you can’t even bring yourself to be fully honest with him bc how could he ever stay if you were. and he finds out and he leaves, bc of course he does, and you let him, bc it’s probably for the best and he can do what he fucking wants. you’re not gonna twist his arm to get him to fucking love you. but he comes back, and you both keep coming back through everything that follows, bc who else is going to know you like this?? what could ever fill the hole they’d leave behind??? everything you’ve built you’ve built together. how could you ever actually leave that behind?

[mollysunder]

This is the worst lie Jinx has ever told herself.

Felicia's literally just Vi with a braid.

Now young Silco, that's just male Jinx with less baby fat, but we all know Jinx's face is only getting sharper.

Forget the Felicia, it's like the artists decided Silco was literally Jinx's only parent. The resemblance is still there even when Silco gets older.

You think anyone who knew Silco when he was young looked at Jinx and went, "yh that's Silco in blue".

[otaku553]

New blorbo :)

Also a silly interaction with this piece

[quailsprout]

starlight

[raileurta]

Therapy Humans

After being in a war for millions of years transformers gotta be really fucked up. So I imagine with humans being nice and soft and having therapists that we'll be therapy dog humans.

[fiendishartist2]

guy who doesnt dance x guy who will drag you onto the dance floor

[non-un-topo]

To the next adventure...

Image description and details under cut

I.D.

[A drawing of Nicky, Joe, Quynh, and Andy from The Old Guard. They are all in profile, walking in a straight line facing the sun. They are dressed in medieval clothing and armour, and each carry their own weapons and bags. Nicky has his sword, a crossbow, a quiver of bolts, a dagger at his belt and another strapped to his ankle. Joe is holding his sword, a bag, and a coin purse. Quynh's bow is over her back, and her quiver is at her hip. Two daggers are strapped to her belt, one of them matching Nicky's. Andy is holding her axe, two bags, and a dagger. They each have serene expressions and closed eyes, as if they're not in a hurry. In the background, the seasons change from winter to spring, summer, fall. There is an old tree behind them, and its branches change with the seasons.]

[marshmellowtea]

"it's not realistic for all the characters in your fic to know about/be cool with age regression" i cannot overstate to you how much i do not care about that. you think when i'm writing these agere fluff and/or hurt/comfort pieces i'm looking for maximum realism NO i'm looking for the catharsis of my blorbo being loved on by their friends in their most vulnerable moments do NOT @ me about realism rn

[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."

[cheatingtime]

you wanna know how i got this scar... ?

The Dark Knight: Bully Edition (by @fear3loathing)

[cairoscene]

Brian David Gilbert on Sad Boyz

feels fandom relevant.

[ID: A series of screen captures of Brian David Gilbert speaking on a podcast: "The thing that you invest your time in can feel so important to your identity that occasionally you feel, like, you need to close it off from other people in order to keep it safe. And I think that's where a lot of nerd culture, all that gatekeeping stuff, all of the toxicity stems from that thing where it's like, "In high school I didn't have a lot of friends or connect with a lot of people, but I did have this comic book, and now this comic book is super popular, but these people don't like me. That must be because they're not real fans."" End ID]

[s-h-a-s-e]

Dad!Stan for the win!! Surely his parenting will have no lasting impact on the twin's moral and ethical code!!!!

based on this super cute fic that I love :)