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plush-rabbit · 16 days

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No name story part,,, 4? yeah, part 4. i really wanna get to the good part and i can't!! because i have to write the inbetween stuff. As I mourn my first love, Shigaraki Tomura, I will put this out. I am going to grieve, because I wanted a happy ending where he's the king of the new world and instead I get pain. and on an anniversary day no less!! blasphemy Word Count: 3K -

You wore a robe to your severance. You couldn't slip anything into it. Not a photo, not a single memory. All of your life remains above and out of reach.

A part of you wishes that you had the sense to take something with you, to slip between the folds of the fabric, folded and tucked neatly. But you doubt that it would have survived the fall. You can't remember much of it- only the way that your body crumpled to the ground, broken with gold pooling underneath you, seeping out of you, the warmth of it doing nothing to stop the chills from your body.

No. Nothing would have survived even if you had wished for it.

On nights when you’re unable to find sleep, you lay awake, empty and cold. You’re without a possession to your name, a name without any meaning here. The only one who you can speak to, has bid you goodnight long ago, and you have yet to find his room in the palace. You wish you had asked him to keep you company.

Outside of your room, you can hear the quick, fluttering steps of imps. You’ve only spoken to a few, nothing more than just pleasantries. You wonder if they would hear you cry at night, if they avoided your room and your gaze because they knew far too much.

Your back aches, and you can feel your wings- or at least the ghost of them tense and knotted in tension.

The thought passes by too quickly, whispered in the back of your mind that you doubt you had any real control over, you wonder about Heaven.

It was peaceful. You didn’t hold a title, you were simply an Angel. You were a being made of stars and kindness, molded by Father’s hands, each feather smoothed between his fingertips, each freckle and dimple pinched with love. You were an Angel, you were meant to be kind, meant to be good. You were never meant to be anything more or anything less.

Perhaps that’s why you’re here.

You allowed Adam to court you, allowed yourself to want the finer things in life. You questioned, and you wanted knowledge and reason behind Heaven. You wanted more, and now you’re no longer an angel.

Tears burn your eyes, and your hands scratch the blanket that lays above you. You have the urge to call for Lucifer, to have him comfort you again. To simply just have comfort and be told that you’ll be okay.

Your breathing is rushed, in and out, in and out, far too quick for you to control your emotions. You need to remember something else, anything else. You need to relax and think about- your mind comes to a blank. You need to think about Adam. Your hand clutches the shirt over your chest, twisting the fabric in your palm.

You close your eyes and think back to Heaven.

It was a peaceful day, one where Adam didn't have to attend a training for the Exorcists, where he could simply be with you. You both sit in a hidden part of Heaven, where the trees are lush and vines hang from the branches, flowers and petals covering the land. It was nice, a valley that Adam had claimed for himself, one where it looked like Earth before it was touched by man.

You lay on your back, your wings stretched to act as a cushion under you, fluttering and twitching under the breeze of the wind. Adam sits beside you, his guitar held in his hands, strumming along cords that are pleasant to your ears. Despite the vulgar lyrics that spill past his lips, you find his voice soothing. With the sun warm on your skin, you could almost fall asleep- you can find peace under the tree.

However, the lyrics are full of sin, lust filled and licentiousness. He hums the final words, slurring them together, ending in a curse when he can’t find a rhyme. But he turns to you expectantly, watching as you blink slowly at him. Your eyes are heavy, and your body equally so. With a smile, you muse outloud, “It’s terrible.”

“Yeah, well you don’t know good music,” he retorts, sticking his tongue out at you. You snort in response. His hand rests over your stomach, and you cover his hand with yours.

“I’ve heard bangers-”

“Don’t call them that,” he interrupts with a groan.

“And this is not a banger,” you end with a smile.

“Fuck you,” he murmurs, and you feel warmth beside you, his arm stretching over your midsection. You turn to face him, and he’s laying on his side, his other arm acting as a cushion under his head. “It’s a great fucking song.”

“It’s gross,” you tell him, closing your eyes once more.

“Tell me how.” He presses himself closer to you.

Smiling, you shift, and he follows your movements, your body entangling itself around his as he rests his head over your chest, his arm circling over your midsection. His clawed hand rests over you, the nail of it tracing delicate lines over you. His wings stretch out, one laying itself flat, and the other acting as a blanket over the both of you.

“It talks about people being together.” When he doesn’t answer, you continue. “Women and their bodies, men and theirs,” you let the last word hang awkwardly in the air.

“Go on,” he encourages.

“I’ve said far too much,” you add hastily, feathers fluttering in the air.

“On the contrary, little dove, you haven’t said enough.” You snort at the nickname, but even so, you can’t help the flutter of your feathers. “I’m only getting inspiration from you,” he adds, a hand cupping the underside of your chest. “I like writing about you.”

“You do?” You perk at the mention, warmth fluttering in your chest knowing that he does think of you.

“Mhm,” he nods. “I’m writing a new song about you,” he lilts at the end.

“What’s it about?” Curiosity is laced in your words, and you let the excitement pool in your stomach, eager to hear more.

“I’m thinking about your hands.”

You can’t help the laughter that rings around you. “How would that even go?”

“Softest hands I’ve ever felt.” Your eyes open, a smile stretching on your lips, as the clouds above you move to cover more of the sun. He hums for a second, his hand patting against your arm. “Love to feel them wrapped around my-” You call his name in a warning. “Softer than any cunt-”

“Adam!” You shriek with a laugh, covering his mouth with your hand. He licks at your palm immediately, and you pull away with a grimace. “Gross,” you mumble.

“You've had worse on your hand,” he tells you with a smile, his weight is a comfort above you.

With a huff, you wipe your hand over the sleeve of his robe. “You’re a dick.”

“Dickmaster, baby,” he tells you.

“I doubt that that name is going to catch on,” you muse.

“I already have some of the girls calling me that, ya know?” He says with pride, pushing himself closer onto you. You stay silent, and he presses a kiss against your body. “Jealous, huh?”

“Sort of,” you answer honestly. “I would rather be the only one to call you something like that.”

“Ha,” he breathes out. “I’ll reserve it just for you then.”

“No, you won’t,” you smile.

“Maybe I will,” he counters.

With a pleasant memory, and an emptiness in your chest, you turn on your side. The pillow is clutched in your hand, and you let out soft whines as tears warm your cheeks. You miss Heaven. You miss Adam. You miss your wings. All you have is memories, and even then, they’ll fade no matter how much you cling to them. You’ll be in Hell until you die, until Lucifer wishes to cast you out of his home. An angel without their wings, a fallen angel deemed too pathetic for the King of Hell. You bury your head into the pillow, and you wish you had run away to Earth.

Adam isn’t sure how much time has passed since your- since you left. Time has blurred, left messy and without structure. He attends to his duties, he does what is needed of him, and even if it isn't much, if it’s all purely just to give hope to others and have them bask in his glory, he’s there. He doesn’t give himself time to think about you, to linger on you longer for a minute. He pushes you out of his mind. He’s hidden your things, stuffed them into boxes and taped it shut.

Everything that made you, you; that made you different from others, is tucked away. He hates that everything of yours, could fit into just a few boxes, and your existence is gone along with everything else. No one speaks of you, no one dares to mention your name. Whether it's out of fear, or because you’re no longer here, he isn’t sure. But you're gone.

The first few days, weeks, months- whatever it was, was difficult. He was restless, snapping at anyone or anything that came near him, like a shark that’s been starved for too long. Even if he’s tried to push you out his mind, you don’t seem to let go. Your ghost haunts him, a chill down his spine whenever he closes his eyes, your scent clinging to the bed sheets that he refuses to wash. Your laughter rings in the shared home, echoing off the walls in the dead of night. He catches glimpses of you in the corner of his eyes. He’s being haunted by you, a poltergeist in heaven.

It’s laughable.

It’s pitiful.

The door to his office opens, and Lute steps in, her mask held in her hands, her face betraying no emotion. His eyes glance over to his drink, half filled with whiskey, ice melting and condensation creating a ring on the table.

“Sir,” Lute stands talls, her heels clicking at the floor. He can only offer a grunt of acknowledgement. “The exorcists are prepared for the upcoming extermination.”

He looks up at her. She’s devoted. Loyal to Heaven, and to him. She’s his right hand. She’s ruthless and efficient. He’s always held her in high regard- all of his girls.

You didn’t agree with the extermination, claiming that the murder of souls- innocent or not, was something unnecessary. While you never wanted to hear about the casualties, the death and the gore, the wretchedness and sin that covered him in crimson, you had accepted him as he was. His brutality, his ego- him. You accepted him, you wanted him.

Somewhere, he remembers Vaggie. One of his best. Brutal and steadfast in the beliefs of Heaven and cleansing Hell from the damned. Lute was her executioner- unofficially. How Lute ripped her eyes out, and she tore her wings from her back and tossed them to the side. How he and Lute had left Vaggie for dead, an angel without their wings, hobbling around Hell, missing an eye and only hoping that their suffering will end.

And now you’re in Hell.

“Sir.”

“What?” It comes out harsher than it’s meant to be. And he turns his head, grabbing at the glass, but unable to lift it to his lips. He sighs, the condensation cold against his palm. “What is it Lute?”

“I wanted to know if there was any plan you had for Extermination Day.” He looks up at her, and he can see her falter. The corners of her lips twitch, and she tightens her fists. It’s rare to see her like this.

“About?”

She says your name, and it sounds wrong. Your name shouldn’t be uttered, shouldn’t be whispered by anyone above. He has yet to say your name out loud. He’s thought it- wanted it, mouthed it, but he can’t voice it. He can’t give you a voice. And yet, she has no problem saying your name, even if you both shared affection for one another.

Adam looks at Lute now, as she waits for his response, and he sees your executioner. He remembers how her face contorted to pull your wings from your back. The snarl of her upper lip as she had to drag the skin, gold staining her hands as a piece of skin thinned down to your lower back. Logically, he shouldn’t be upset with Lute. It was her job- it was required of her. It was even told that she would be the best one suited for you and your fate. But still- he sees her, and he sees you on the floor, sobbing and reaching for your wings. And he sees your wings, gathered and taken elsewhere.

Lute continues, her hands fisted at her sides. It’s been some time since the two of them have been together alone. “If we see them, what are we meant to do?”

His eyes widen, and his hand tightens around the glass. “Excuse me?”

Her voice fades into noise, and he stares through her. The idea of meeting you in Hell is one that he never even touched upon. A part of him desperately wished that you were able to hide, to lick your wounds and stay hidden where those vile and filthy souls couldn’t touch you, where you could expand your power. However, wisps of thoughts, ghosts of you and who you were always lingered in the back of his mind. He’ll never admit it, he’ll never give it an actual, tangible thought, but he needed to face the ugly truth that some degenerate had found your mangled body, or that in pity and mercy, the fall was enough to- crack! His glass breaks, and amber and gold spills on the table.

“Adam!” Lute calls with worry laced into his name. She rarely does call him by his name, only in softer moments, where neither will be interrupted will she call his name. But now, there’s a flash of panic in her eyes, and he fists the injured hand.

“Shit-” he can feel the stickiness of the drink. “I’m fine, Lute.It’s just- Fuck-” a piece of glass is pushed deep into the flesh of his palm- “it’s whatever.” With a flex of his hand, he miracles away the injury, the only evidence for it is pooled on the table. “It’s a fucking cut. I’ve had worse.”

She pauses, and looking between his hand and him, she clears her throat. “Of course, my apologies. However, the Exorcists will need an answer on what will be the course of action should we run into-” the click of the first letter taints her tongue- “them,” she corrects herself.

“If we see them,” Adam muses, and the only thing that can come into mind is taking you away. Hiding you somewhere. Making sure you didn’t leave his side. He catches Lute’s eyes, and she waits expectantly, her fingers twitching in anticipation. “I’ll decide before we go down.” He sees her disappointment, the way she softens her shoulders, the soft exhale. She isn’t content with that answer, and neither is he. “Just leave me be, huh? I’ll see you later.” He waves her off, and gives his attention to the alcohol that creeps towards the paperwork on his desk. In a blink, the glass is repaired, and filled with the sweet amber.

In the solitude of his office, he stares at the wall. What would he do if he saw you? How do you even look now? Would you recognize him? Would he recognize you?

Yes. He would. Without a doubt. He’d pick you out in a crowd. He’d know it was you. He’d be so certain of it. He’d go to you in all of his glory, and he’d take you. He would take you away from it all. He’d apologize for not coming sooner, but even with his title, there are still rules that he has to answer to. He’d apologize for not doing something then, for not protecting you and doing more to prevent your punishment. But you’ve learned. You’d be better now. You’d stick by him, and you’d be safe with him.

His hands aren’t stained with your blood, and yet, he can never feel clean. Maybe he should have listened to you, maybe he should have stayed home. Let himself stay ignorant to your fate. Let himself think that you had a fighting chance. That you had fought and snarled your teeth at the others. Instead, you cowered, you looked hurt- betrayed that the ones that you held in such high regard watched you with cold eyes, unblinking and repulsed as you writhed on the floor. You were there, the only memory of you pooling on the floor, inching closer to the feet of others. Then your blood, golden and glittering, was washed; gold watered down and cleaned with a cloth, until the color changed.

Should he have sullied himself? Should he have sat on his knees, let his skin and clothes be forever stained by your blood. Have the ends of his robe forever touched by you. Let his knees mark themselves, raw and red, as he crouched to clean what was left of you. Should he have let himself touch the last bit of holiness that you had left, let it stain his nails. Should he have scrubbed at the floors until his hands were raw, until he could see his reflection in the floor, until you were no longer there. Had he sat there, and cleaned the floor, would it have been enough to bring you back, would they have taken pity on someone as great as him. Would they have seen his good deed, and let your misdeed be forgiven? Could Father have heard your cries, if you were just a bit louder? Should he have cried for you, begging and praying for mercy until you were saved.

He’ll see you. He’ll find you in hell. He’ll take you back home.

#adam x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin adam x reader #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin adam #adam #hh adam #hh adam x reader #hazbin adam x you #adam hazbin #adam firstman #i want to spoil everything #i was also listening to lady gaga and i really wanted to write for ghostface again #that fic story had potential #picture perfect #also such a good name too

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camilleflyingrotten · 3 months

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The last centaurs, Aziraphale and Crowley, and their little foal Orion 💛

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kizzer55555 · 2 months

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DP x DC: The Most Dangerous Card Game

Ok so Danny has essentially claimed earth as his. And he is fully aware that there are constant threats to the planet. Now he can’t stop a threat that originates on earth (that’s something he’ll leave to the Justice league) but he can do something about outside threats. Doing some research on ancient spells, rituals, and artifacts, he cast a world wide barrier on the planet to protect it from hostile threats so they cannot enter. This will prevent another Pariah Dark incident. However, barriers like this come at a price. You see, there are two ways to make a barrier. Either make one powered up by your own energy and power (which would be constantly draining) or set up a barrier with rules. The way magic works is that nothing can be absolutely indestructible. It must have a weakness. The most powerful barriers weren’t the ones reinforced with layer after layer of protective charms and buffed up with power. Those could eventually be destroyed either by being overpowered, wearing them down, or by cutting off the original power source. No, the most powerful barriers were the ones with a deliberate weakness. A barrier indestructible except for one spot. A cage that can only be opened from the outside. Or that can only be passed with a key or by solving a riddle. So Danny chooses this type of barrier and does the necessary ritual and pours in enough power to make it. And he adds his condition for anyone to enter.

Now the Justice league? Find out about the barrier when Trigon attempts to attack, they were preparing after he threatened what he would do once he got to earth. How he would destroy them. The Justice league tried to take the fight to him first but were utterly destroyed, so they retreated home to tend to their injuries, and fortify earth for one. Last. Stand. Only when Trigon makes his big entrance…he’s stopped.

The Justice league watch in awe as this thin see-through barrier with beautiful green swirls and speckled white lights like stars apears blocking Trigon and his army’s advance. The barrier looks so thin and fragile yet no matter how hard the warlord hits, none of his attacks can get through and neither can he damage said barrier. That’s when Constantine and Zatanna recognizes what this barrier is. Something only a powerful entity could create. For a moment, the league is filled with hope that Trigon can’t get through yet Constantine also explains that it’s not impenetrable. And clearly Trigon knows this too for he calls out a challenge.

And that’s when, in a flash of light, a tiny glowing teenager appears. He looked absolutly minuscule compared to Trigon and yet practically glowed with power (this isn’t a King Danny AU though).

And that is when the conditions for passing the barrier are revealed. And the Justice realize that the only thing stopping Trigon and his army from decimating earth. The only way he can get through….is by beating this glowing teenager in a card game.

Not just any card game though. The most convoluted game Sam, Danny, and Tucker invented themselves. It’s like the infinite realms version of magic the gathering, combined with Pokémon, and chess. And Danny is the master. So sit down Trigon and let’s play.

(The most intense card game of the Justice league’s life).

After Danny wins, this happens a few more times with outer word beings and possibly even demons attempting to invade earth, yet none have been able to beat the mysterious teenager in a card game. Constantine might even take a crack at it and try to figure out how to play. He’s really bad though. Every time this happens, the Justice league worry that this might be the time the teenager looses. Yet every time, he wins (even if only barely).

Meanwhile, Danny, Sam, and Tucker have gotten addicted to the game and play it almost daily. Some teachers might seem them playing the game are are like ‘awww how cute’ not realizing this game is literally saving the world. Jazz is just happy they aren’t spending as much time on their screens playing Doomed.

#DPxDC #dcxdp #Danny makes a card game to save the world.#Technically he worded the ritual so that they had to ‘beat’ him as those are the most powerful barriers and most reliable.#keys can just get lost or stolen (like the one to Pariah’s Coffin)#A riddle would be useless once someone figured out the answer. Like how no one takes the sphynx seriously anymore.#(Sorry Tuck. But it’s true).#And there is NO WAY Danny is just leaving a hole open for anyone to pass through. No thank you!#So…beating him. But it’s not like Danny wanted to fight so…he edited the ritual a TINY bit. Card games are good. Much less painful too.#Danny Tucker and Sam made the most complicated card game they could imagine.#It’s based on their strategies for fighting ghosts. Capturing them in thermoses. And MUCH based on a on field battle strategy.#It often requires spontaneous thinking on the spot. So Danny? In his ELEMNT. It doubles as practice for his actual ghost battles too.#They had SO much fun making this.#Sam added an entire series of plant cards that act as traps and healing ointments and duds that just take up the field.#Tucker added legitimate hyroglyphics combined with Latin as well as English and ghost speak.#Yes. You actually have to speak that language to play. With proper pronunciation. (Amity Parker’s think the three are talking gibberish.)#I headcanon Sam and Tucker are fluent in Ghost.#Constantine WILL figure this game out SO HELP HIM!#Some of the cards also have combinations related to constellations either in name or placement on the board.#By the way the board is based on a Hexagonal summoning circle with Rhunes along the edges #And the placement of the cards on the board and on what rhune MATTERS.#Also the cards move disintegrate and have certain abilities. Think of Harry Potter Wizard Chess.#But they are normal when Danny plays at school. This is just for ✨effect✨ Against invaders.#Danny faces multiple opponents. He also halts alien invasions.#While Danny COULD stop crime on earth he’s not sure how to fight a normal human and hold back so he sticks to ghosts.#The Justice league are going crazy trying to figure out who this entity is and after deep research are convinced this is some sort of #Ancient being who has protected earth for millenia. They have paintings on ruins and everything.#Danny is not aware they think this.#Raven starts praying to Danny as if he is a god and wrangles the other Teen Titans into doing so as well. Danny is still unaware of this.#Danny is not a King or an ancient. Just a very VERY strong ghost.

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sygneth · 7 months

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"The Fall of the Starmaker"

#I have been painting this for way too long #fuckin. rocks #anyway i was thinking whether i want to name this “the fall” or “the death” because y'know #the angel you knew is not me #but i decided to stick to the original idea #also the other title could be “the birth of crowley”#also i'm a very big fan of the concept that angels' wings burn during the fall and then grow back black #yall seem to like renaissance-like paintings don't ya?#i hope you will like this one #good omens #good omens fanart #fanart #good omens crowley #crowley #anthony j crowley #the starmaker #ineffable husbands #my art #snek blorbo

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floccinaucinihilipilificationa · 1 year

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#selfie bee #me telling a coworker who I have been working with for 4 months and whose name I do not know about my toenails #i'm sorry Tobias (?? Paul ??) it was the only topic I could come up with after I already told you about the big bird I saw in 8th grade #FRIENDS how are you!! :) how has the new year been so far!!#did you have a lot of snow on christmas!#we did and it was really fun! I had a very bad cold so I just watched the snow from inside but that was good too c:#do you have any plans for the new year?#i always have lot and most of the time I do not do any of them but planning is fun #this year I REALLY want to watch all of Star Trek ヽ(´∇｀)ﾉ #I would also love to learn how to make a handstand #imagine if you could just make yourself upside down #but it is a far away dream because honestly I am not very good at being usual side up most of the time either #but I will try probably at least 2 times to learn it ( ᐛ )#maybe I'll finally finish that website!#new years are good and fun #it's wild to think about how much daily life has changed since last year but I feel just the same :)#who knows what this year will bring!#I hope I don't hit a pheasant with my car #I almost hit a pheasant with my car last year and the pheasant made direct eye contact #I wonder how he is doing today #since that moment I think about pheasants a lot #I knew they were real but I had never seen one #just to know they are out there is a mystical feeling #right know it is raining so all the pheasants might be wet #get dry soon pheasants!!#I don't think I've ever seen a wet bird either #I don't know what do do with all these birds thoughts #also thank you for the person who asked about my skirt!! ( ˊᵕˋ )♡.°⑅#I've finished it and its really really bad #but I love it

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bluegiragi · 1 year

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konig reminisces with horangi over his short-lived stint as an underground boxer in his teenage years...

more on patreon (plus the nsfw follow-up comic)

bonus:

#so its my headcanon that konig used to fight in a pretty shady underground boxing ring as a teenager #it was his first real opportunity to let some of his feral energy and strength out #he was only there for a year or two before the ring unfairly ousted him #after all its not good for business for one person to stay king for too long #at that point you start hedging your bets #konig got left with nothing by the end of it and he joined up shortly after #and his 'king of the ring' moniker ended up inspiring his operator name later in his life #also yes hello hi horangi #ill be exploring these two together more in the future <3 #im glad to be back with my pathetic cat man #korangi #horangi #konig #cod mw2 #giragi art

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shorthaltsjester · 10 months

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the mighty nein - critical role

this is a place where i don't feel alone. this is a place where i feel at home.

#also with softer vibes. i offer They #every silly little brainheart found family deserves a to build a home edit #the mighty nein maybe most of all. thats my family #also the lyrics deliciously well suited to m9.#when jester pulls that. stupid tarot card for fjord. home or traveler. and there's a carnival wagon. and veth says Thats Us! . them #i just think about . the tower is their home the xhorhouse is their home the lavish chateau is their home the balleater. the mistake.#the nein heroez. veth and yezas apartment. the dome. fjord and jesters living room floor.#a bar with a silly name on rumblecusp #also like. the song has stone and dust imagery. gardens and trees.#the inherent temporality of life and love and how that holds no bearing on how greatly people can love. im losin it okay.#ive been making this edit for days straight with my computer screaming at me for trying to shove 143 episodes of cr into a 2min20sec video.#crying becuase. theyre a family do you get it. they were nine lonely people and most of them had given up on seeing their own lives #as something that might be good. something that might make the world a better place. and in the end they're heroes.#and it doesn't matter if no one else knows because They know they're heroes. and they wouldn't've believed that was true when they met.#rattling the bars of my enclosure. to be loved is to be changed #posted on twitter and want to get in the habit of posting here too bc.#general reasons but also bc . i have noticed some of the ppl liking/sharing it are also ppl who shit on my ops by vaguing about my posts #which is in general whatever but does leave a funny taste in my mouth.#critical role #the mighty nein #cr2 #caleb widogast #caduceus clay #jester lavorre #fjord #veth brenatto #yasha nydoorin #beauregard lionett #mollymauk tealeaf #my posts

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omaano · 22 days

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If you're still taking those polyam sketch prompts...D2 for Cody/Obi-Wan/Rex?

Obi-Wan deserves a pair of handsome space heaters for the cold Tatooine nights :3 nap piles for everyone! Thanks for asking (and for adjusting the requested pose so that I can keep drawing different poses)❤️

Polyamorous/platonic poses for sketching

#can I just point out that this is the same size as all the other sketches for these poses?#I was forced to face the limit of how far my lining brush could be scaled down lol #wanderingjedihistorian #answers #my art #poly sketches #partial nudity #codexwan #that’s the ship name right?#or at least I assume that was the intent behind the ask?#clone shipping #if you squint at the ask at least #cuddle piles for everyone!#also what’s the point of being the same-ish size if you cannot steal each other’s clothes to sleep in?#these were wayyy too many limbs I needed to navigate #but my favourite thing will forever be to add freckles and beauty marks and body hair drawing out stubble one line at a time is good for me #I’m still working on these so #some style adjustments will need to happen though I’m afraid… or I forgot again how sketching works which would be very tragic

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oshacompliantmagicalgirl · 10 months

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Ok, are we ever gonna acknowledge how fucking cool the name "Aziraphale" is? Like every time I hear it I lose my shit because its such a baller name. And then the angel himself is just a little fruit, and I love him

#aziraphale #good omens #i love this man #but why is his name so fucking cool #id name my firstborn that because it fucks so hard #but its also the southern pansies name so we would have to live with that #maybe i just like names with z in them #again i love him #but his name is almost too cool for him

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starry-bi-sky · 2 months

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i need to get this out of my head before i continue clone^2 but danny being the first batkid. Like, standard procedure stuff: his parents and sister die, danny ends up with Vlad Masters. He drags him along to stereotypical galas and stuff; Danny is not having a good time.

He ends up going to one of the Wayne Galas being hosted ever since elusive Bruce Wayne has returned to Gotham. Vlad is crowing about having this opportunity as he's been wanting to sink his claws into the company for a long while now. Danny is too busy grieving to care what he wants.

And like most Galas, once Vlad is done showing him off to the other socialites and the like, he disappears. Off to a dark corner, or to one of the many balconies; doesn't matter. There he runs into said star of the show, Bruce who is still young, has been Batman for at least a year at this point, but still getting used to all these damn people and socializing. He's stepped off to hide for a few minutes before stepping back into the shark tank.

And he runs into a kid with circles under his eyes and a dull gleam in them. Familiar, like looking into a mirror.

Danny tries to excuse himself, he hasn't stopped crying since his parents died and it's been months. He rubs his eyes and stands up, and stumbles over a half-hearted apology to Mister Wayne. Some of Vlad's etiquette lessons kicking in.

Bruce is awkward, but he softens. "That's alright, lad," he says, pulling up some of that Brucie Wayne confidence, "I was just coming out here to get some fresh air."

There's a little pressing; Bruce asks who he's here with, Danny says, voice quiet and grief-stricken, that he's with his godfather Vlad Masters. Bruce asks him if he knows where he is, and Danny tells him he does. Bruce offers to leave, Danny tells him to do whatever he wants.

It ends with Bruce staying, standing off to the side with Danny in silence. Neither of them say a word, and Danny eventually leaves first in that same silence.

Bruce looks into Vlad Masters after everything is over, his interest piqued. He finds news about him taking in Danny Fenton: he looks into Danny Fenton. He finds news articles about his parents' deaths, their occupations, everything he can get his hands on.

At the next gala, he sees Danny again. And he looks the same as ever: quiet like a ghost, just as pale, and full of grief. Bruce sits in silence with him again for nearly ten minutes before he strikes a conversation.

"Do you like to do anything?"

Nothing. Just silence.

Bruce isn't quite sure what to do: comfort is not his forte, and Danny doesn't know him. He's smart enough to know that. So he starts talking about other things; anything he can think of that Brucie Wayne might say, that also wasn't inappropriate for a kid to hear.

Danny says nothing the entire time, and is again the first to leave.

Bruce watches from a distance as he intercts with Vlad Masters; how Vlad Masters interacts with him. He doesn't like what he sees: Vlad Masters keeps a hand on Danny's shoulder like one would hold onto the collar of a dog. He parades him around like a trophy he won.

And there are moments, when someone gets too close or when someone tries to shake Danny's hand, of deep possessiveness that flints over Vlad Masters' eyes. Like a dragon guarding a horde.

He plays the act of doting godfather well: but Bruce knows a liar when he sees one. Like recognizes like.

Danny is dull-eyed and blank faced the entire time; he looks miserable.

So Bruce tries to host more parties; if only so that he can talk to Danny alone. Vlad seems all too happy to attend, toting Danny along like a ribbon, and on the dot every hour, Danny slips away to somewhere to hide. Bruce appears twenty minutes later.

"I was looking into your godfather's company," he says one night, trying to think of more things to say. Some nights all they do is sit in silence. "Some of my shareholders were thinking of partnering up--"

"Don't."

He stops. Danny hardly says a word to him, he doesn't even look at him -- he's sitting on the ground, his head in his knees. Like he's trying to hide from the world. But he's looking, blue eyes piercing up at Bruce.

Bruce tilts his head, practiced puppy-like. "Pardon?"

"Don't." Danny says, strongly. "Don't make any deals with Vlad."

It's the most words Danny's spoken to him, and there's a look in his eyes like a candle finding its spark. Something hard. Bruce presses further, "And why is that?"

The spark flutters, and flushes out. Danny blinks like he's coming out of a trance, and slumps back into himself. "Just don't."

Bruce stares at him, thoughtful, before looking away. "Alright. I won't."

And they fall back into silence.

Danny, when he leaves, turns to look at Bruce, "I mean it." He says; soft like he's telling a secret, "Don't make any deals with him. Don't be alone with him. Don't work with him."

He's scampered away before Bruce can question him further.

(He never planned on working with Vlad Masters and his company; he's done his research. He's seen the misfortune. But nothing ever leads back to him. There's no evidence of anything. But Danny knows something.)

At their next meeting, Danny starts the conversation. It's new, and it's welcomed. He says, cutting through their five minute quiet, that he likes stars. And he doesn't like that he can't see them in Gotham.

Bruce hums in interest, and Danny continues talking. It's as if floodgates had been opened, and as Bruce takes a sip of his wine, it tastes like victory.

("Tucker told me once--") ("Tucker?") ("Oh-- uh, one of my best friends. He's a tech geek. We haven't talked in a while.")

(Danny shut down in his grief -- his friends are worried, but can't reach him. When he goes back to the manor with Vlad, he fishes out his phone and sends them a message.)

(They are ecstatic to hear from him.)

It all culminates until one day, when Danny is leaving to go back inside, that Bruce speaks up. "You know," He says, leaning against the railing. "The manor has many rooms; plenty of space for a guest."

The implication there, hidden between the lines. And Danny is smart, he looks at Bruce with a sharp glean in his eyes, and he nods. "Good to know."

The next time they see each other, Danny has something in his hands. "Can you hold onto something for me?" He asks.

When Bruce agrees, Danny places a pearl into his palm. or, at least, it's something that looks like a pearl. Because it's cold to the touch; sinking into Bruce's white silk gloves with ease and shimmering like an opal. It moves a little as it settles into his hand, and the moves like its full of liquid.

Bruce has never seen anything like it before, but he does know this; it's not human. "What is it?" He asks, and Danny looks uncomfortable.

"I can't tell you that." He says, shifting on his foot like he's scared of someone seeing it. "But please be careful with it. Treat it like it's extremely fragile."

When Bruce gets home, he puts it in an empty ring box and hides the box in the cave. He tries researching into what it is. he can't find anything concrete.

Everything comes to a head one day when Danny appears at the manor's doorstep one evening, soaking wet in the rain, and bleeding from the side.

#dpxdc #dp x dc #danny fenton is not the ghost king #dpxdc crossover #dpdc #dp x dc crossover #dpxdc prompt #man i just really need more dpdc stuff where danny and bruce have a good relationship. like man i NEED it. like i need to see these two #bonding together. and not in a cracky 'oh danny is a distant friend/cousin/etc' stuff but like. active participants in each other's lives #or as active as can be in this case. i neeeeed these two getting along and caring about one another #this idea came to me like last night and hasn't left since nd it was driving me up the wall to think about both positively and negatively b #i neeeded someone to hear about this or i was gonna implode #danny is the first son #tried to just get the general gist of the idea down but i definitely thought of the idea that bruce lowkey suspects vlad for having a hand #Vlad allows Danny to sneak off because he thinks Danny is alone. if he knew Bruce was there he'd be piiisssed and would put a stop to it #Sam and Tucker are alive they just got ghosted for a bit by danny bc he was in Major Grief and didn't wanna socialize. He couldn't go to #them because he didn't wanna put them in danger via Vlad.#oh that thing he handed Bruce? Yeah that's his ghost core. I have a headcanon (that isnt always applied) that ghosts can take their cores #out of their bodies at will and painlessly and without issue. and its common practice actually to do so bc they can be a not insignificant #distance away from said core before problems start to act up. and its common for ghosts to leave their physical cores at their lairs for #safekeeping because as long as the physical core is fine: so is the ghost. they can reform if their body gets destroyed. it also acts as a #fast travel sometimes. where they can reform at their core in an instant. its not inspired in the slightest by SU but i do see the overlap #most cores are pretty small for safety sake: its harder to hit if its small. and they're pr resilient too but its better to be safe than #sorry. so yeah. danny essentially gave bruce the physical embodiment of his soul and indirectly said #'if anything happens to me at least i'll be safe with you'#danny doesn't know he's batman btw #starry rambles.#was gonna go into danny becoming a vigilante beside bruce but im sleeeepy so i'll do that in a reblog. he's gonna go by nightingale if #anyone is interested. stereotypical but to be frank it is a *good* name imo. has a good amount of syllables and consonants to it #and the bird theme. and since its part of an ancestral name it has even more backing for it being bird-y without being meta

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