Let Me Hop Onto That Radiostatic Yuri Train Real Quick 📻📺

Let Me Hop Onto That Radiostatic Yuri Train Real Quick 📻📺

Let me hop onto that radiostatic yuri train real quick 📻📺

More Posts from Aro-in-danyl and Others

3 years ago
@fairycosmos / Comic By @shhhitsfine / Comic By @incendavery
@fairycosmos / Comic By @shhhitsfine / Comic By @incendavery
@fairycosmos / Comic By @shhhitsfine / Comic By @incendavery

@fairycosmos / Comic by @shhhitsfine / Comic by @incendavery

2 years ago

Short DPXDC Prompts #537

Mr. Lancer is a retired Slade Wilson.

1 year ago

Helluva ships - featuring Radioapple

Mammon does in fact tattle to Lucifer about Asmodeus and Fizz's relationship. Let's say the Helluva timeline lines up with Lucifer and Alastor getting closer sometime after season 1.

Lucifer doesn't know why Mammon bothered, even if Lucifer didn't have whatever was going on between him and Al -- he still wouldn't give a fuck. And he'd give even less of a fuck considering Mammon was still committing copyright infringement for his park, the audacity of that man was astronomical.

Still, Mammon calls a meeting to spill the tea because even he knows Lucifer is a hermit who does not keep up with the drama of Hell's so-called elite.

Asmosdeus finds out and therefore Blitzø finds out. So they all crash the meeting to give Mammon what-for. Fizz and Blitzø because they've never met Lucifer and think he's going to be pissed. Moxxie and Millie because Blitzø lied about where they were going and refused to let them leave. Stolas for moral support (and he's also never met the King, sue him, he's excited despite the circumstance) and Ozzie because he couldn't stop them so he might as well join them.

Following multiple very unnecessary pit-stops and shenanigans, they finally arrive at the palace---and it's too late.

Alastor has already kicked Mammon out and now he and Lucifer are doing paperwork, gossiping, and fighting over the (according to Alastor) tacky interior design of the palace.

The Helluva gang bust in (Blitzø is on a horse for some reason, he's very happy about this) and it's very anti-climatic.

Asmodeus: so you...don't care that I'm in love with an imp?

Lucifer, dad mode: You're in love? I'm so proud of you!

Blitzø: Just to be clear, I'm fucking this bird, there's nothing you can do about it

Lucifer: Okay??

Alastor: Darling, they think you care about hell's hierarchy

Lucifer: Oh! Yeah, uh-no. That'd be pretty hypocritical of me considering [gestures to Alastor]

The Helluva crew leave the palace once Lucifer and Alastor start bickering again looking like they've escaped a hurricane, wondering if they should be sending the King of Hell a 'Congratz on the Divorce' card.

Moxxie: ...does this mean we have two Kings now?


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1 year ago

DP x DC Writing Prompt #9

"Are you sure about this?" J'onn asks, reading the discontent amongst the Kents. Clark and Lois each have a hand on their teenage son's shoulders, who several weeks prior was aged ten years old.

"We're sure," Clark says. He is not, nor is his wife. But his son is, who lays his hand on his mother's and squeezes. It is that surety that J'onn honors as he delves into the young (but not as young as he should be) man's mind.

The memories are hard to find but not gone, hidden behind what Jon can only see manifested as a glowing green wall. When he raises a tentative hand, the shield sparks green, but does no harm. Pushing through is like wading through the consistency of jello, which he finds an overall unpleasant experience. But he is unharmed as he passes through.

Before J'onn can sort through the memories he is all but sucked into the one at the forefront, where a Jon most similar in visage to the one recently returned perches on the edge of a building. Beside him lies a burger, partially unwrapped though uneaten, and a small soda.

As the memory builds out a sun sets on a small suburban town, and a muscled thigh knocks into Jon's, an older man with a shock of white hair and eyes the same light and color as the shield formed around these memories appearing. He's tall even sitting, likely about as tall as Superman, and looks to be in his thirties. A full body suit comprised of black and silver accents stretches across broad shoulders, a stylized D on his chest. He knocks his thigh into Jon's again.

"You said I couldn't go back," Jon says quietly.

"I lied," the man says lightly.

"You're lying now," Jon says, glaring at him. "I can hear your heart."

"Nice try, kiddo, I don't have a heart in this form," the man says, reaching a hand out, presumably to ruffle his hair. Jon dodges.

"I know you're lying. You would've told me. You would've helped me get home."

"Jon--"

"You're protecting Clockwork, aren't you?" Jon demands, eyes beginning to burn red. "That old coot decided it wasn't enough to play with you, he had to play with me too."

The man slaps a hand over Jon's eyes. "Breathe, like we practiced," he instructs firmly. Steam rises from where his palm meets Jon's eyes, but if it hurts he shows no indication. "In, 2, 3. Out, 2, 3."

Jon whimpers but heaves a breath, and the burst of red light dies down from between the man's fingers. His hand moves down to Jon's shoulder.

"I can't pretend to understand Clockwork's decisions," the man says, as tears begin to pool in Jon's eyes. "Frankly, I don't want to. I suspect they are hard decisions to make, sometimes."

"I don't get why you defend him," Jon says. "Dumbledore acting bastard."

"Language," the man says, lightly bopping him on the head. J'onn notes the boy actually winces, as if the blow hurts.

"I am upset with him, I hope you know that," the man continues. "But at the end of the day I'm also grateful. Because I got to meet you." He hooks an arm around Jon's shoulders, pulling him in. "And now you'll get to see your family again. And Sally, Arnold, and Damian!"

Jon sniffles, rubbing roughly at his face. He leans into the man's bicep. A trusted adult figure, then. One he's described his life to. A life, J'onn is sad to note, he appears to have lived for the past six years, as opposed to a sudden shift in appearance. Jon's next question all but confirm it: "Can I really go back? It's been so long. They'll be all grown up."

"Hey, of course you can," the man says, rubbing his shoulder. "I'm sure they've missed you so much. They'll be so happy to see you again."

Jon starts to smile. "I'm going home."

"You're going home!" The man laughs, shaking him.

"I can finally eat some decent barbecue again!"

"Hey!" the man protests, "The smoker blew up one time!"

Jon continues, beginning to get excited. "And Ma will make her jalapeño cornbread! I never could get it right, I can't wait for you to try it!"

J'onn notes the older man's smile fading, eyes growing sad.

"And Damian will definitely want to spar and oh, oh! With you on our side we can totally prank Batman! I bet Alfred will even help! And Mom gives the best hugs, Pops comes really close but Mom will be really excited to meet you, everyone will."

"Jon," The man says.

"I knew you'd be worried about it, but they'll want to meet you," Jon says, clocking his expression. "They'll be grateful. You, you helped me. You kept me safe and taught me how to be Superman. They'll love you, I promise."

"Jon, I can't go with you," the man says gently.

"I'm not saying you stay, but you can visit! I'm sure the Justice League can figure out a way to maintain a portal, they're super used to all that multiverse stuff. Once they have the coordinates, you can stop by whenever!"

"I can't go through the portal, Jon," the man says. "To other worlds, I'm a god. And gods can't interfere. The only reason I can continue to live here is because this is the world of my origin."

Jon gapes at him. "But--but,"

"You're going to see your Mom and Dad again," the man says. "And your brother, and grandparents."

"I can come here, then," Jon says desperately, pushing his way out of the man's arms. The man is already shaking his head. "I can!"

"You can't."

"Why, because Clockwork says so? He's a liar!"

"Because multiverse travel is never a good idea. If you got trapped here again--"

"I wouldn't,"

"You belong with your family,"

"You're my family!" Jon cries. The man freezes. "You, and Sam, and Jazz, and Tucker and Val and Ellie and Pops and Mads, you're all my family! I can't just leave you, I won't!"

"Oh kiddo," The man says, eyes wet. "I love you too. We all do."

"So I'll stay," Jon says decisively. "For all we know my world is a wasteland. Gramps wasn't exactly right in the head when I left. It's better to stay here."

J'onn notes a green vine unwinding from a nearby trellis. It slides down the eave towards the pair.

"You don't mean that," the man is saying.

"I'm sixteen. I can make my own decisions. I'm staying."

The man cups Jon's face. "Your parents did not have a choice in losing you. I'm willing to bet they're devastated. Because I'd be devastated, losing a kid as great as you."

"Maybe they're not even there," Jon says, but the words are half-hearted, and it clearly hurts him to say them.

"I know I seem like a pushover, but if I thought Clockwork was sending you back to anything less than your loving family, I'd destroy him first. And he knows that. They're going to be there, I promise."

"I don't want to go," Jon says. Behind him, the vine rises from the eave of its own will, poised like a cobra enchanted by a snark charmer.

"I know," the man says, eyes drifting to the vine. "I'm so sorry, Jon."

"For what?" Jon asks, as the vine attaches itself to the nape of his neck. His eyes roll back as he collapses into the man's arms. The man hugs him tighter than is strictly necessary.

J'onn expects the memory to now end, alongside Jon's consciousness. To his curiosity, it does not.

"For what it's worth," a young woman spits bitterly, vines supporting her weight as she slips over the side of the roof. "I still think this is horrible." Her eyes are red and miserable.

"Seriously, team punching Dumbledore in the face," A young black man says, appearing in the air supported by a woman almost identical in appearance to the man holding Jon, down to the suit colors. They land on the rooftop.

"Are you sure about this," the dark haired woman with powers over plants asks. "Because to be honest, Danny, I'm five seconds away from punching you in the face."

"Jazz won't speak to you for months," the girl, likely his sister, points out.

"Make it a year," the man says, crossing his arms.

The man, Danny, ignores them all. He cards a hand through Jon's hair. "He'll retain the experience, but not the memories?"

"Yes, he'll be a perfect little superhero, just as you taught him," the woman says, vines twisting agitatedly around her, wrapping around her thigh, wrists and neck almost punishingly.

"Sam," the man says. "He needs to go home. All of you know that."

"He doesn't have to forget us to do so!" the sister bursts, eyes flashing green.

"Remembering would be a torment," Danny says. "He'll know he was loved. That's enough."

"Danny," the plant woman says, sitting beside them both. She puts a gentle hand on his, both on Jon's back. "This is just a different torment."

"And if someone finds out?" Danny asks. He has been patient amidst their scorn, but now a tiny edge ekes into his voice. "A god's child, unprotected? Threatened? He would never stop looking for a way back, and being vocal about it could get him killed."

The others are silent.

"He'll be home. He'll be happy," Danny says. More powerful than a prayer. A directive. He raises his head past the child slumbering in his lap, past them all, face hardening, and says to J'onn: "And you will say nothing."

J'onn takes a step back, fear so thick he could choke on it flooding his very being. Thismanwillkillhim, thismanwillkillhim.

This man will reach through dimensions and kill him.

"Now, get the fuck out of my kid's head," Danny snarls. J'onn is pushed back with enough force he enters his own mind in a vicious whirl that leaves him physically on the floor, gasping.

"I'm sorry," he says as Superman rushes to lift him, and he's not sure who he's apologizing to. Green eyes will pierce his dreams. Vines will crush his throat in his nightmares, screaming silence, silence.

You will say nothing.

"I'm sorry," J'onn says, politely pushing Clark's hands away as he rises. He's already beginning to calm, because he understands. Those are consequences he will not face. He will do as directed. He looks at Jon Kent, bewildered but unharmed, clutching his mother's hand.

J'onn reaches down and dusts at his pants. "I'm sorry," he says evenly, ready to spin his tale. Perhaps the Kents will continue to seek their answers. Perhaps not. He will stay out of it either way. He has been warned.

You were loved by gods. And to keep you safe, they would quiet us all.

6 months ago
Yeah So,
Yeah So,
Yeah So,

yeah so,

2 years ago
The Willow Woman.

The willow woman.

Photo taken by The Henge Shop, Avebury.

1 year ago
Imagine You're Living In The Post Apocalypse And Your Adopted Dad Still Makes You Do Homework
Imagine You're Living In The Post Apocalypse And Your Adopted Dad Still Makes You Do Homework
Imagine You're Living In The Post Apocalypse And Your Adopted Dad Still Makes You Do Homework

imagine you're living in the post apocalypse and your adopted dad still makes you do homework

4 years ago

You know I bet Vader could easily fix the whole Ever given Suez Canal problem. Smh at us weaklings. (This is a joke, I wasn’t sure it came across as funny enough)

He could, but whether or not he would depends on if Luke makes him.

1 year ago

Okay so we all know Alastor absolutely LOST that fight with Adam but can we appreciate the fact that Adam was forced to show more of his power and stop joking around in order to land a single blow?

And keep in mind, this dude not only killed Pentious but disintegrated him, the egg bois, and his entire fucking ship in the blink of an eye.

Meanwhile Alastor DOESN'T get ripped in half by a direct hit from Adam, DOES manage to escape, AND manages to heal himself or at least block the pain enough to pretend like nothing happened later when he meets back up with the Hazbin crew.

I know we like to make fun of him, man absolutely deserves to be humbled but this shit is still impressive.


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1 year ago
No One Compares You Stand Alone, To Every Record I Own Music To My Heart That's What You Are

No one compares You stand alone, to every record I own Music to my heart that's what you are

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aro-in-danyl - Sarcasm is my name. Sincerity is my game.
Sarcasm is my name. Sincerity is my game.

Send me asks about Headcanons. I'll talk your ears off.

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