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#I love her she’s unhinged
nosieposie · 3 months
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baby u r my ANGELLLLLLL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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zephyrine-gale · 10 months
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conductor pose studies ft. arlecchino (refs below!)
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batmanisagatewaydrug · 7 months
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the realest man is Gotham is this random Blackgate guard who let Steph beat the everloving shit out of her dad for 10 full minutes no questions asked
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from Robin #16 (1995)
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eskildit · 10 months
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so we all agree that harrows letter to camilla in htn explained the lobotomy right. or at least explained that she removed all memory of gideon to preserve her soul. do you think camilla thought ‘yeah sounds like a solid plan’ or was she a hypocrite who thought, ‘this bitch is crazy. i, camilla hect, on the other hand am responding to my necromancer’s death in a way that is correct and normal’.
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loverofsoups · 3 months
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“Shauna won the idgaf war” she is 40 and still hallucinating her dead homoerotic teenage best friend…. She lost the war so bad she may never win anything ever again
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wasyago · 9 months
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they have so many belts....
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welcometogrouchland · 5 months
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[ID in ALT] Steph and Damian doodle! This taps a bit into their pre-52 dynamic so that's what I was thinking design wise at first but I wanted to draw it w their more recent designs as well to stay hashtag current and topical, so you get both/a fusion, lol
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She has a plan. Shes keeping her beans cool. She eats the souls of pervs. Shes a two bagger. She burried the bully. Shes making dirty girl soup. She called god a son of a b word. Shes insane shes crazy shes unhinged
I didnt say any names but she popped into your head didnt she?
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ashes-in-a-jar · 8 months
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I think people should listen to a compilation of only Sasha James' lines. Istg 70% of her lines elicited this reaction from me
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kiiratart · 1 year
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MERCYMILF
Second Duplicitous Slut to serve the King Undying
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ineed-to-sleep · 3 months
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Collection of Orin closeups bc she has simply bewitched me body and soul
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funnywormz · 3 months
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janeway moments that make me go nuts. she was like "oh u don't wanna talk? ok. die."
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giulzart · 4 months
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*throws a Mordred sketch at you and runs away*
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gwendolyn bouchard: really the worst part about finding out my manager is a murderer was finding out that she kind of sucks at being a murderer. like, i can get behind the murder aspect easily, but that's just kind of embarrassing.
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shummthechumm · 4 months
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ommgg fallen leaves being possessive and slightly unhinged is so good. like, over the course of holly's stay in the tunnels there are signs--but holly also refusing to move on and be with her loved ones.
then hollyleaf realizes: "wait he's a little crazy, actually" . like, an omen of what could happen to her if she doesn't leave the tunnels and confront her past mistakes.
so in the end, fallen leaves' own self-destructive behavior further pushes the first friend he's had in decades away--and hollyleaf's decision to amend for what she's done/learning to live with her identity directly contrast's fallen's.
living in denial for what, a century? just exacerbates fallen leaves' fixation on isolating himself. he refuses to move on because doing so would mean he has to acknowledge that he made a mistake in his own ambition to become a sharpclaw. him impatiently going into the tunnels for his assessment ultimately resulted in a world of pain for his mother and groupmates--which also led to them leaving the lake and going to the mountains. (you could also rewrite his backstory and he still serves as a decent parallel to holly.)
plus it's deliciously dark to have fallen want to keep holly in the tunnels so she can die (and stay dead in the eyes of her loved ones) so he doesn't have to be alone anymore. alone with your mistakes for possibly eternity OR project yourself onto the next living thing within a 5 mile radius so you can BOTH live with your mistakes. TOGETHER.
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ghouljams · 8 months
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can we hear from konig and fetch? I love her powers and how konig actually READS the manual first unlike ghost boy smh
mwah much love
Of course! I love them, they're so silly(I say as I'm about to write Blacksite prison shit)
You perch, nice and pretty on the edge of the table, watching the man in front of you sweat. König is looking over a tray of surgical instruments. He rubs his chin through his hood, picks up a corkscrew and sets it down. You swing your feet while you wait, at least the man you're interrogating is smart enough to keep his mouth shut. It's no fun if they get started begging too early.
"Schöne, where are the curved scissors? The snippy ones, not the wiggly ones," König asks you. You summon a pair of pruning shears and hold them out to him. The metal blades are just starting to rust from the poorly cleaned off blood. König looks at them and you can see his eyes crinkle at the edges as he smiles under his hood. "Thank you, those will do nicely."
His gloved hand takes the shears gently from your outstretched palm. The subject of your stalled interrogation thrashes against the ropes binding him to the chair. "What the fuck did she just do?" He asks, eyes wide on you. You flash him a smile with all your teeth, let's your horns burn into visibility, just to hear his panicked heartbeat.
"Go on and show off," König hums, watching you, "it might make this faster." You push yourself off the edge of the table and lean close to your victim.
"Don't worry," you tell him, pressing your fingers over his heart, "this won't hurt, but you'll remember it the rest of your life."
You push your fingers in, feeling the skin and cloth give way to your insistent push, ribs bend out of your path, and you feel the rapid inhalation in the man's lungs as your fingers brush past the organ. You wrap your hand around his heart and extract it, careful not to sever anything important when you rip the still beating organ from his chest. The heart drips blood onto the man's lap as you hold it in front of him, it squeezes and pumps, continuing its thankless work even outside the body. It picks up pace, anxiety and fear spiking it into a rapid race of desperation as the man stares down his own life.
"You should really take better care of this thing," You turn the heart over in your hand, examining the stress markers on it.
"That's my-"
"I think I'm going to start with the fingers," König tells you, cutting the man off.
"What?" The man transfers his panicked stare to König as he grabs his hand, holding the shears open around his pointer finger.
"Keep monitoring his vitals, I want to see how many I can get off before he starts talking." König holds his hand still with an iron grip as the man thrashes and struggles to free himself. The blades of the sheers hardly touch the man's skin before he's begging.
König dots his pencil against a small notebook, large hands dwarfing the writing instrument, his gloves resting on the blood stained table between you. Your victims heart is still beating in your hand, though the body is slumped in the chair. As far as you can tell the intel supplied is good, and though it's a bit of a stretch to say you can "fetch" the truth out of people, you pride yourself on being able to get the information you need.
"Good work Colonel," you purr. He looks at you with heat in his eyes, you know he likes when you call him that. Now isn't the time or place and you both know it, but teasing him now means more fun later.
"Have your snack Schatz," König says, going back to his notes. He flips a page back and forth with his fingers as you tip your head back and drop the heart into your waiting mouth. You're careful to bite through the muscle, sharp teeth slicing clean through your victims last lifeline. You swallow both halves to keep the blood from squinting everywhere as the corpse in the chair spasms with its last dredges of life.
König shuts his notebook and goes to bang on the metal door three times. You're quick to jump in his shadows as the latch clicks and the gears start turning to let you both out.
"I don't know man, it's just weird that's all," one of the cleanup crew grumbles. You cling to König's back, his hand reaches back to brush up your thigh, dragging against unseen flesh.
"Just do your job," the other advises, "Don't think too much about it, I mean, you've heard the rumors right?" You smile, press your lips to König's hood over his ear.
"They're talking about you," you whisper. Their eyes follow him as he walks past, their footsteps avoid his shadow.
"They're talking about you, Miene Liebe," König mumbles, turning his head to make sure its only you the hears him, "they're always talking about you."
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