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starry-bi-sky · 25 days
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my body's aching like a knock-down drag-out
and my poor heart is an open wound A Childhood Friends Au snippet that very briefly delves into Danny's life post-accident. CW: Mild Mentions of Blood, Violence, VERY mild gore ig. Danny briefly recalls getting impaled during a fight.
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What they don't tell you about being dead is that it hurts. That it can hurt. That it can hurt more than when you were alive. That when you die, the emotions you die with stick with you like a leech that just won't let go. That emotions are ugly little thorns that stick their barbs into you and grow beneath your skin; or, at least, whatever’s left of it. 
Danny is familiar with anger. It kept him warm in Gotham, when his parents weren't home from work and he and Jason were crowding Crime Alley with their presence. It kept him warm in Amity, when the fresh sting of moving was still needling into his heart and he wanted nothing more than to rip and tear into the closest person next to him.
He's familiar with violence. With fights. With death. He's seen people die in Crime Alley probably every day. From overdose, from gunshots, from stab wounds; anything that can kill, rest assured he's seen it. He's familiar with getting his own knuckles rough and bloody when other kids turn and bare their teeth at him and Jason; they're all just starving dogs stuck in a fighting pit, primed and ready to rip out each other's throats. 
Black eyes, stomped hands, bloody noses. You name it; he’s had it. Gotham is paved with the blood of her children, and Danny likes to imagine that when he was born, the doctors handed his mother a file and told her; “Take it. He’s going to need it for his teeth.” 
Danny’s mom (and dad, for that matter) was too busy trying to keep him and Jazz fed, so Danny stole the file from her drawer with Jazz’s help, and did it himself.  
He’s familiar with anger, he thought he was getting better at it these days. It doesn’t come to him as easily as it did before. Of course, that was before Jason died. 
Danny is less familiar with grief. Caring kills and Gotham kills the caring, so Danny cares very little about other people. Or he tries to. But grief hurts. His grief hurts. It hurts too much. It hurts like a bug trying to crawl out of his chest; like a rat chewing a hole through his heart. Some days he wants to dig his hands into his hair and split himself down the middle. Some days he just wants to scream. 
He’s dead. He’s dead. He’s dead. 
He wants the whole city to hear him wailing, some days. It sticks itself in the back of his throat like bile, and Danny is one wrong retch away from letting it loose. It sticks in his lungs like all the tar he’s smoked in since he was nine. It pushes and aches at his temples, in his head, like his brain is trying to swell out of his skull. His thoughts becoming so loud they threaten to commandeer his tongue.  
He has no mouth, but he must scream. 
Something they don’t tell you about being dead is that it hurts. That it hurts more than when you were alive. Something they don’t tell you about being dead is that it’s violent. That it’s bloody. Or as bloody as it can be when everyone has no blood. 
Another thing they don’t tell you about being dead, is that it’s a lot like Gotham that way.
With no threat of death, Danny’s enemies forget death itself. Blood comes easy, like water, and teeth are encouraged. Bring your own fangs to the fight. Dying is something you can just walk off. 
Danny’s been dead for three months. He can’t say he’s been walking it off easy. He’s perfected the art of turning his nails into claws since his heart was still beating, but he can’t say he’s perfected fighting other ghosts. 
Scrappy is just not enough. 
He feels like he’s back in Gotham again. Back in her death-shroud alleyways, fighting someone bigger than him. But there’s no Jason to watch his back, and Danny has to get himself out of there alone. Or he might just not get up at all. 
Black eyes, busted lips. It’s familiar to him like an old scent, Danny isn’t quite sure that he’s missed it. It’s more familiar than his fights with Dash. 
But there’s no one else who can do it but him. Not Sam, not Tucker. He can’t lose them too. He can’t. He can’t. He can’t. His heart can’t take another break, he already feels like he’s going insane. 
With no threat of death, Danny’s enemies fight like death themself. He learns why when Technus puts a street sign through his stomach one day. It pins him to the asphalt like a moth pinned by its wings. 
Danny claws at the metal like how an animal caught in a trap chews off its leg, and every move is blinding pain. He thinks he was howling, but it’s hard to tell. He couldn’t recognize the sound of his voice. 
He bleeds green. It mixes in black with the pitch blackhole in his heart, which throbs and twists and cries in time with his reckless panic. The finger-choking terror of dying again strangles out the air he doesn’t need. His blood evaporates, only to reabsorb into him. It just bleeds out again, cycling like a snake eating its own tail. 
Danny breaks his nails clawing at the metal, and eventually gets it in his mind to pull it out. So he does, and the end drips ectoplasm green as he gets to his feet. In red-vision, Danny sends the sign back with snarling, vicious fervor. The pain is irrelevant in his rage.
Only after the fight does the hole the pole left start to close. Danny doesn’t shift human until it’s gone. Unlike other injuries, a scar stays behind. Ugly; mottled, it aches for a week with every twist and stretch his body makes. He hates it. 
Being dead is agony. 
Every part of him is in pain. Every step, every word he speaks, everything he does, it is prerequisite with pain. The body is temporary, but the soul is forever, and death has carved into it with its freezing green hands and left him with never-ending heartache. It has torn from him and stolen what of him it could, and in return it’s left him with sorrow. 
His pain is his grief, and he’s sobbed in the safety of his room more times than he can count. It’s still as fresh as the day he heard the news of Jason’s death. He knows, instinctively, that it will stay fresh forever. 
In his room, Danny shoves his hands over his mouth and shrieks in whatever, muffled way he can into his pillow. It’s not enough. It’s never enough. He needs to be louder. He needs to be heard. He refuses to be. 
Being dead hurts. 
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nightcatssketchbook · 6 months
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Hey I actually ended up finishing that piece! Baroque-inspired Percy de Rolo portrait.
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jacobhubertusart · 10 months
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Monday, 2023/06/19, by Jacob Hubertus.
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started binge playing the professor layton games and managed to make it to last specter so have some memo pad doods
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galahadwilder · 1 year
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Derision AU where Kim wasn’t trying to prank Marinette and is confused as to why she freaked out, he just thinks giving people a box of spiders is peak romance
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front-facing-pokemon · 3 months
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#something is very obviously different about these two compared to my normal images on this blog. i acknowledge this#also the sv model is Really good. and since they always stare straight at the camera anyway… and no one pays attention to the background…#and the only high-quality phantump model i could find was so horribly shiny that its eyes were just white voids#in my defense‚ phantump always just stare straight at you in game#the lighting is different‚ yeah. that's probably the dead giveaway. beyond the background. but like. i'm the only being on the planet who#really likes phantump anyway. i feel like it's a generally forgettable pokémon to most folks#phantump#HELLO this one is a weird one. i have some explaining to do. so when i did this one i didn't know how to edit models really at all#and when i got the models for these‚ the xy models were super shiny. shiny to the point that it made their eyes fuckin invisible#and i decided that since you could barely tell it was phantump‚ i needed a different way to get these images#i remembered that in the SV dlc‚ every time you find a wild phantump‚ it just fucking. stares. at you. and i was like. aha#i kinda remembered because of the test stream that i did. tumblr user alligayytorr (am i getting the right amount of Ys) said#“haha i am getting a sneak peek” when i zoomed the camera in on a phantump. and i remembered that. and i was like. i can utilize this#and ended up using just an in-game screenshot of SV in replacement of the regular content. later on‚ after that#once we got into gen 7 and it became less and less reliable to find models‚ i had to learn how to edit them manually to remove the shine#i am a software dev. not a 3d modeler. this ended up coming down to editing the code of the models directly (which i ended up writing a#script to automate). now‚ today‚ january 22nd (the day of me writing these tags and updating this post)‚ i remembered this post was in the#queue and was not normal. so i went back‚ ran the script on the phantump and trevenant models‚ and unshinified them#then edited these two posts to be normal. i have left the original pictures i took under the cut for reference and as bonuses#because i really enjoy phantump. so that's why those images are there‚ and that's why these tags are here#just for posterity's sake‚ the folks who come here mostly for my commentary‚ i've left the ORIGINAL tags of the post when i initially#made it with the SV pictures up at the top (i wanted to rearrange them‚ but tumblr makes that Very difficult‚ so i left them as-is)#so if these tags are confusing to read i Apologize. but i hope now that you're at the bottom you understand what happened#i'm gonna go edit the trevenant post now
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thecatspasta · 10 months
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BARRENCLAN HAS BREACHED CONTAINMENT. THE FANDOM IS NOW IN POLLS. SLUGPELT IS AN AVATAR OF THE LONELY. Admire her in all her glory.
@barrenclan
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ready for your bite
✧ written for 'suck' ✧ word count: 480 ✧ rated: T ✧ cw: none ✧ tags: vampire!eddie, confident steve, suggestive ✧ @steddiemicrofic (〜 ̄▽ ̄)〜✧
"Hello? Is anyone here? I'm sorry to intrude, but there's a terrible storm -"
"And so you enter my home?"
Steve gasped, spinning around to find a man, watching him from the shadows. "Please," he says. "Allow me to stay for just the night, until the storm passes."
The man stares at the droplets running down his skin. "Of course. Come, I'll show you where you can dry off."
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Steve inhales when he hears the window click open, the hinges somehow quiet despite it being so large and heavy.
He stays silent as a weight starts to creep on him, tangles of curls brushing against his bare skin, only letting out a sigh when a feather-light touch grazes down his throat.
"What a pretty bride you'd make."
The words are soft, almost wistful, and his heart races, which means the game is over.
"And why," he drawls, opening his eyes to stare up at the shocked Edmund above him. "Would I not be a groom?"
"I - you're awake?" Edmund says and Steve almost coos.
"Is this the part where you ravish me in bed?" He raises his brow, moving his body languidly across the sheets, watching as Edmund watches. "Where you tie me down, bite my skin and suck the life out of me?"
"I don't - you knew?"
"Oh come on," Steve rolls his eyes. "A big spooky castle in the middle of dangerous woods with a single occupant who has no reflection?"
"How could -" Edmund sputters, still caging Steve to the bed. "There are no silver-backed mirrors here!"
"Brought my own," Steve grins, shifting along the sheets again just to see Edmund's eyes flicker down.
"You're a hunter," he accuses, but he doesn't move.
"Something like that," Steve agrees, and he strokes a hand up Edmund's arm and shoulder, curling it around the nape of his neck. The vampire's eyes never leave his but damn, the way they widen. "I'm really just a man, looking for some shelter from the terrible storm outside."
"The storm passed an hour ago," Edmund says, even as he follows Steve's hand pushing him closer.
"Mm, but it's so cold out there," Steve pouts, both of his arms wrapped around Edmund's neck, his bare chest pressed against the silk of Edmund's shirt. He watches him swallow with a smile. "Will you leave your poor fiancé to shiver just after you promised me forever?"
"I - you - this isn't how it's supposed to go?!"
Steve pulls him in closer, pushes Edmund's face into his neck, relishes in the sound of his gasp. "Why not? Everything's going according to your plan, I am simply asking if you intend to get my blood all over these fine sheets."
"What are you?" Edmund says softly, nervously, into Steve's skin.
"Why don't you start drinking," Steve grips his hair with a smile. "And find out?"
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eileensdress · 1 year
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Netflix realized the witcher franchise is going to shit and their gut reaction was ‘more bard’ and ‘make things gayer’ and guess what both decisions were correct
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izayamoriarty · 28 days
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Has this been done yet? Any of this?
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saltv2 · 4 months
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Okay people.
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It is done. wow, what a great way to show off her redesign.
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pagesofkenna · 2 months
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me days ago: i want to get some marcille/falin figures to match, but theres no falin merch yet :(
me: i'll get the marcille popup parade figure for now, in the hopes that someday they release a falin popup parade figure to match
goodsmile company, making my day and taking my money:
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bobsquatley · 5 months
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fem whitney makes me feel things
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jacobhubertusart · 10 months
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Tuesday, 2023/06/06, by Jacob Hubertus.
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rottmnt-residuum · 6 months
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Send me an ask on what spoiler you want and I might answer it lmao
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monitorkernelaccess · 3 months
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does anyone remember when team salvato had that “for fans by fans” fanart merch contest, but like it had a backstory that monika “wasn’t allowed to participate” cause “she always wins and it would be unfair :(” but like all images of her and mentions of her name were glitched out, and in the background of the promo art there was a piece of paper with her poem “Hole in Wall” mostly erased (and not even in her font asset, just in the neutral/MC handwriting font) so all signs pointed to monika’s file being deleted
but then literally none of that was ever directly acknowledged in the posts or the merch for the contest, or in ddlc+ lore, or on other posts from team salvato’s twitter or monika’s twitter account? so, though it probably wasn’t intended to be lore to begin with, we never got any context for it, even within the constraints of the “backstory” for this specific contest?
…no? just me? ok.
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