#(because of course)

[cy-lindric]

On the hundredth day after the new year the heralds come to the doors of the city, announcing the arrival of the Golden Caravan at the farthest stop of its route ; like every year, citizens and travellers will surely gather at the western door to see it come to pass.

Right behind the banners as customary are the sculptor priests, foremost of the stonemason orders, bringing in this year's votive masterwork for the festivities. The black and white steppe oxen precede the arrival of the head guild architect, charged with the safekeeping of the citizens' sacred geometry. The graduating apprentices and newly welcomed novices walk besides the draftsroom carriage, bearing the icons of the Citizen Architects Guild : ardor and patience. Out of the kilns of the imperial workshops come delicate masterwork sought after the world over ; the sister-ceramists are selected from various key regions of the trade system and bring their local styles to the imperial production. Those workshops are the northernmost stop on the caravan's route.

Behind the masons, the torchbearers announce the arrival of the metalworkers' guilds, chief of which the head goldsmith on a palanquin of her own design. The braseros and forges are continuously tended by guild kindlers as to remain lit throughout the entire voyage of the caravan. Second to last comes the host of the manticore, behind the braseros of the master kindlers. It is believed that the creature requires her caretakers to be pure of heart and most diligent ; the honour is bestowed only on the highest performing apprentices of the smithing guilds. On the last day finally, behind the last of the apprentices, the crones of the chain count the days left to craft, keeping misfortune at work away, and, some even say, Death itself.

[finebella]

I think everyone has seen the variation where Danny kills Joker and Jason (and maybe other bats?) sees his panic and then congratulates him

But what if his panic was stronger? He's never killed before. All but a couple of his enemies were dead before they fought him. Or at least half dead But that clown? Oh my god, he was alive. Yes, he smelled like ecto (which only added to the freak show vibe and the panic reaction) but he was alive And Danny killed him

Danny's panic about his first kill, about meeting a crazy clown, about his screw up version that killed

And the fact that that hot guy in the domino mask (wasn't he wearing a full red one?) is laughing doesn't help at all Oh, here come the police. Are they going to arrest him?

with the bats just appearing there and distracting the police he can almost feel a small relief from the realization that the clown is evil interrupted by terror from the memories of their discussions with Sam and Tucker that Batman is very obsessed with his clown and does not allow anyone to kill him and what does this mean for Danny now?

Eventually Jason will turn his attention to his hero and notice that he does not look proud. Or at least somehow good. He looks like he is now choosing whether to faint from horror or puke from the blood on his shoes pouring from the clown's head, from which the guy can not take his eyes off and- oh The calmed rage of the pit rises to protect who made him afraid who made him cry!? Well, it looks like Jason will have to be a hero to his hero. And it needs to happen now. No, the police and B can wait. Get lost.

[rosenkranz-does-things]

I have Got to stop going ham on paintings that only like three people would see. anyways werewolf scully wearing a muzzle on my patreon

[anotherlikeyou]

Ah shit, here we go again

[justbreakonme]

Whumpee looks back on his first few weeks with caretaker with a new perspective now, the weeks he had spent solving puzzles that weren’t there, playing mind games that only existed in his own.

In hindsight, things made more sense. He smiled wryly at the thought of ever being scared of caretaker, so clean cut and care worn in their sweaters and pajamas.

He felt guilty, in flashes, that he must have made things even more difficult by being so suspicious. How can you fix someone who thinks you’re trying to break them?

But along with the guilt always came a surge of gratitude, because they did. They did help fix him, and now he was able to see it.

All the pain killers were actually just pain killers, every kindness just a kindness, dinners at the table were just dinner, not some grand plan to pick him apart and break what little spirit he had left.

Through it all, Caretaker had kept steady, and even now, as they stood side by side, they reach out a gloved hand for him. He took it, and they gave it a gentle squeeze.

Caretaker had known (or learned) what it would take for him to feel safe. Their house became full of little nooks and nests, blankets tucked into every hidden corner because if he was going to hide, they wanted him to be warm. Baskets of snacks appeared in different rooms, Caretaker telling him in no uncertain terms that they were for him if he wanted, whenever. Caretaker started wearing their keys on their belt, like a cat with a bell, so he never worried about being snuck up on.

He had seen these things in a very different light before, but now, the thought almost made him tear up.

Yes, Caretaker had been very, very gentle with him. They had had the patience of a saint, and the attention to detail of an anthropologist, had watched and learned and applied everything to make sure he would feel safe again. After all, that was why they were here, wasn’t it?

Looking down into whumpers coffin, the soft white lining was a jarring contrast to its greyish mottled skin. The undertaker had done their best but he could see how the jaw was set just a little out of place, the nose crooked and the splotches of heavy makeup in patches over its face. He hadn’t thought of whumper as “human” in a long time, and even now, it looked more like a beast to him.

Caretaker looked over, checking in, and he smiled. So did they. It was all so much easier to see now, after the fact.

The same intelligence and compassion that had fixed him had led Caretaker to whumpers door, the same hands that had bandaged his cuts and bruises had wrought their own, and the same patience and attention had made sure that no one would ever be any the wiser to what had actually happened in that house that night.

Caretaker was gentle.

Gentle, not harmless.

[duskwingmoth]

Ralsusie ^u^

[oh-biwan]

"Kiss me on the mouth and set me free"

[gingerrootandsoot]

Just imagined Pregnant! reader being approached by the twins with adoption papers one quiet afternoon while waiting for Sylus to get home from whatever mission he was on.

Like they’re just lounging there, reading to their belly bump and the usually two mischievous guys that always have something up their sleeves are now nervously approaching them and stuttering about talking about something “super important” to them. Reader stops reading and slowly takes the papers and one of them tries to remember the speech they were going to give while the other shuffles around the room like a nervous wreck and by the time they actually get to the point, the other twin pops up with this big as poster board and balloons that says “Will you adopt us?” In bold colorful letters.

And when you finally put two and two together, you’re just a bawling mess because of course you would want nothing more but to adopt them but they think you’re saying no but you correct them and everyone’s crying and Sylus just comes into the house confused because he has no idea what’s going on but when told, he just sighs and smirks lol