#and his throuple

[virijuol]

how can you be a wolverine fan and not also be a multishipper? that man is a WHORE

[lazylittledragon]

one of those 'only wine in the camp supplies' nights [X]

[dcxdpdabbles]

Could you write something where Danny is a teen dad to de aged Ellie? Bonus points if he lives in Crimr Alley and beats the Joker to a pulp for hurting his kid

Danny is trying his best.

It's not easy being a father at age sixteen. It's not easy having to leave his home in fear of what his parents will do to his clone-turned-daughter.

It's not easy watching her every day, wondering if her core will break down further, and instead of just de-aging this time, she'll end up dead. It's not easy worrying about her health in the most crime-infested city with a terrible job and relying on his pitiful check or the funds his sister can sneak to him.

But nothing good in this world is easy, and he wouldn't trade Dani for anything. Yes, she had lost her memories and acted like a real two-year-old, but he adored watching her eyes light up as she relearned the world.

Danny loved her to bits, and even buying her those cheap coloring books and crayons from the dollar store made Dani smile brighter than any star. They may struggle to pay rent and bills or buy food, but Danny can always scrape by, keeping her warm, fed, and house.

He worked at three different dinners, each part-time, since none of them were legally allowed to hire him full-time because of his age. Danny didn't have a single day off, but he had a few hours every day with Dani, which was enough.

While he worked, he asked his next-door neighbor to watch Dani. Now, it may not be the best thing to trust a stranger with his daughter but said neighbor is a ghost and one of the friendly kind.

Danny met her when he first moved in. Apparently, her haunting was one of the reasons the rent was so cheap. She never gave him her real name, but she stayed with Dani all day and had enough ectoplasm to physically touch things. Danny could sense her intentions with his core and knew her motherly adoration for Dani was authentic.

Privately, Danny called her Three since she haunted apartment three, and she sort of looked like she stepped out of the nineteen-thirties, complete with an attractive Transatlantic accent. She was an up-and-coming radio co-host, taking a segment to read stories to housewives before being murdered in her home.

Three never said why or how it happened, but she had been haunting the apparent complex for so long; her lore was well documented among the locals.

They say one of the Waynes had killed her after learning that his wife had fancied Three. But it was never proven and it became another theory that the rich would laugh at every once in a while.

(Three's face always twisted whenever she heard the name Wayne. Her hand would always reach up for a heart-shaped locket she refused to take off even in death.)

Since most people couldn't see ghosts unless exposed to ectoplasm for enough time, the stories of her attacks on anyone trying to get close to her apartment snowballed out of control. Danny thought it was unfair how evil they made her sound. Though it's true she had a strong distaste for men, she had a soft spot for children.

Danny had just been through the wringer; he had double shifts, one stacked right after the other. One of the dinners had let two people go after they had been arrested for moving illegal substances, and Danny had to cover until they found a replacement.

A woman had yelled at him for almost thirty minutes straight about a wait time for her surprise party of fifteen. A man threw up on their counter, and to top it all off, a kid had run into him while he was carrying a tray of food, causing him to spill everything.

Thankfully, the mother was horrified and apologized profoundly, but it had been almost too much for him. So when he was sweeping up broken plates and saw Three franticly flying at him screaming about some clown, well, Danny was doing his best.

And his best was fighting things far stronger than he.

____________________________________________________________

Jim Gordon's early afternoon gets interrupted by the Joker only three minutes after he is supposed to head home for the day. After escaping from Arkham a few months ago, the clown went to the ground, and everyone was nervous about what he was planning.

Jim's team hadn't heard any whispers or had any idea what the Joker was up to, which made everything worse. Usually, when something big and wrong was going to happen, they would catch at least one thing beforehand.

That's why the sudden broadcast of the lunatic had everyone jumping out of their skins.

"Good evening, Gotham. I want to welcome you to tonight's show. It's going to be killer." Joker cackles. He has somehow hacked into almost every screen in the city, his white devilish face appearing on TVs, phones, tablets, and even roadside advertising.

His voice echoes through the city as Jim barks at his employees to trace the signal.

"Recently, I felt it necessary to remind everyone that one is never too young to have a funny bone." The Joker continues, holding up a plush toy to the camera. He waves it a little, pressing the ginning bunny as close as possible so people can see its mouth has been sewed into a sickly wide smile. "I'm sure a few of you have noticed that certain school buses never arrived home."

The blood in his veins goes cold. How many buses? Which school? What kids were they? How old? Why had they not heard of the kids not arriving until now?

There are too many questions and nowhere near enough answers. Jim hates how useless he feels playing this sick man's game.

"But not to worry! You'll see your little ones again! After being guests on my very own game show! Every thirty minutes, one lucky child will get to compete for your amusement, and if they survive, they get an extraordinary prize-!"

His words are cut short by a dark figure flinging itself at the Joker and punching him to the ground. Thank every dark cloud in the sky that the Bat was on the case.

"Basty! Have you come to play- wait. You aren't Batsy." Joker's delighted tone melts into anger as the figure straightens to a young teenage boy.

"You have my daughter. Give her back." The teen tells the clown, voice flat and cold. "Three said your goons took her from her balcony."

"My boys take a lot of people." Joker laughs hoping up a flower. With a press of his finger, the teenager is covered in Joker Vemon. Jim's heart falls as the boy stumbles back, rubbing at his eyes. Joker laughs harder until the kid picks up a chair and slams it onto his head.

There wasn't even a chuckle from the boy. Huh.

"You have my daughter. Give. Her. Back."

"Or what?" The Joker taunts, snapping his fingers. There are sounds of people moving, likely the goons. "Kill him."

The boy doesn't seem to react to the men rushing at him. Someone knocks the camera stand over, and the view of the fight is taken away as it rolls on the ground. Thankfully, it ends up pointed at a wall, where they watch the shadows of the teenager and the Joker's goons fight.

It's hard to tell who's winning, with all the shadows blending together whenever they get close, but the fact that he hasn't heard the kid drop yet means he's holding his own. Jim's eyes narrow at the wallpaper, trying to figure out why it looks so familiar.

It hits him just as a little girl phases through the wall. Yes, phases, as if walking through it like a ghost. This would make sense since -

"That's Nightowl Apparemtents!" Ricky, the new cop from Crime Alley, cries, echoing Jim's thoughts.

"It's what?" Asks Sara

"Nightowl apparements. It's the oldest place in Crime Alley and one of the most haunted. They said a lover of a Wayne was killed there. She kills anyone who tries to rent the place. They do ghost tours occasionally, but no one dares to her hallway. That wallpaper is famous because it's the only one in Gotham with the original founding families' symbols." Ricky explains, watching the little girl tilt her head and then start to flout. Everyone shivers as a second figure bleeds out of the wall behind her.

This one is much more blurry, but the faith outline of a beautiful woman covered in blood hovers behind the girl staring at the fight. She's dressed in clothes that Jim is sure was decades ago, and unlike the little girl, she makes him feel very unsafe.

The ghost of Apparement three. Barbara had gone through a paranormal phase when she was fifteen and dragged Jim to all the haunted places in Gotham. Nowhere had made him feel as uneased as Gotham's cemetery- the most haunted place- but those apartments were a close second.

The ghost spots the camera, sneering at it and Jim actually jumps back.

"Oh, gods!" Ricky shouts, turning his head away. "I'm so sorry for looking into your eyes without permission!"

"It's not a telephone! It can't hear you, Ricky!"

"That's not the point, Sara!"

"Daddy!" the little girl cries, holding up her finger. "I got an ow-ow."

At once, the sounds of combat stopped, and then the screams began. It's nothing like Jim has ever heard. He's been on the force long enough to know what a human in pain sounds like, and those sounds—well, he prays that the Joker had decided to bring in animals.

If it makes him sick to his stomach he is worried about the regular people watching.

The little girl doesn't look away, tilting her head to the side like a curious child of two would and still holding her tiny up. After a moment, Jim realizes the screaming has stopped. There is silence before Joker falls beside the girl, beaten beyond recognition.

If it weren't for his purple sit, Jim would have thought him a goon.

The little girl doesn't blink an eye as the teenager rushes to her, kicking the Joker.

"Let me the ow-ow." The teenager demands, taking her hand in his. There is a moment of tense silence as the woman's ghost louts around him with a sneer. "A papercut! You gave my daughter a papercut!"

The ghost woman screeches, rage in every part of her cry. Jim feels his heart beating out of his chest, frozen in absolute terror as she reaches down for the Joker and drags him through the floor.

The man's screams are heard even through the muffled flooring.

"Holy shit," Sara breathes, voice trembling.

"This is why no one with a brain messes with Nightowl's ghost," Ricky hisses, rubbing at his cross. "How that kid go it to attack the Joker and not him and his daughter-"

The teenager gathers the toddler into his arms, his image fading with a hiss.

"-That was a ghost. The teenager that beat the Joker to near death was a ghost." Ricky swallows. "I am never stepping foot down that street again."

Somewhere in Gotham, a woman is sweating bullets after the feed is cut by Batman, who arrives with the rest of the Bats minutes afterward.

"Say, Mom, wasn't that the boy you were yelling at today in Teddy's Diner for Uncle Ron's birthday."

The woman's eyes swing back to the TV, where the waiter's face is frozen on the screen, his green glowing eyes almost staring into her soul. "Yes.....yes it was."

"Oh crud. I think we're cursed now, Mom. Way to go."

[shotmrmiller]

i'd think it'd take simon two times of him listening to johnny vent about all the shit dates he's had and how he's been abstinent for so long his virginity's gonna grow back for simon to be like "alright," with a casual shrug. "i'll let you fuck my wife."

johnny has a bitty little crush on you so he doesn't even question it. better agree to it before simon comes to his senses.

he tells him to come over for dinner tomorrow at 7 sharp. any later and he'll take that as johnny changing his mind. (delusional. johnny knows simon can see the raging hard on he's had since he brought you up.)

johnny asking why not tonight and simon uses you as an excuse. that he's gotta talk to you. warm you up to the idea. but in reality simon wants to fill you up, leave you full, overly so, of his come so when johnny plugs you up, he can see it leaking out of your cunt and coat johnny's cock. (he's had quite a few drinks tonight but that imagery is what makes his head spin. it's got him gripping the neck of his bottle hard enough to crack.)

[peggingeddiediaz]

Eddie Diaz forgetting to log out of his work twitter account part 132/?

[platossoulmates]

every comic i read gets me more and more angry about his portrayal in the movies and media

[dceuheadcanons]

"Thomas and Martha Wayne were monogamous" this and "Bruce's parents would be so disappointed about the bisexual playboy thing" that. Thomas Wayne was THE bisexual playboy. TO ME. With just a little more dignity. He started it guys give him his credits

[sleepnoises]

went to pinnacles and had a whale of a time seeing various lichens, mosses, etc

[kitnita]

jake oettinger postgame   —   DAL vs VGK;   game 4   —   04.29.24

[ah, you know ty very well. how hard is it to stay focused throughout everything he’s been through?] yeah, it’s … you know, there’s no one in here that deserves that more than him, and, you know — i live with him, so, i get to see … i’ve been through, you know, everything that he’s gone through this year, and, just, the way that he carries himself, and — you know, there’s no one that puts the team more in first than him and he works his butt off and never has a bad attitude and has just stayed ready for when he got his name called, and played great tonight and, you know, showed that he can step in and, and be a great piece to this team. so, you know, there’s not a lot of people that are gonna be happier for him than me, that’s for sure. 

[i was gonna say, the body language that he shows, just when he’s out there – first one on the ice – i mean, he does all the little things you’re supposed to do to show that you’re a big member of the team, even when he goes, whatever, six, eight games without playing.] exactly. and you’d never know … you know, some guys, you know, carry the way that they’re playing on the ice on their face and you’d never know with him. he’s just, you know — puts the team first, wants what’s best for the team, and, you know, he knows when his number’s called he’s gonna step up. and he’s done that. and, uh, like i said, just so happy for him. and there’s tons of guys in our organization who’re like that, you know, just — everyone wants to win, and you know, not everyone’s going to have the exact role that they want but, you know, if you win the championship at the end of the day it doesn’t matter. 

[just for color, here — you and ty share a house, a condo?] he lives at my house. me and my fiancée’s house, yeah. yep. [does he pay rent?]  uh, we’re still working through that (laughs) yeah. he’s, uh, he’s been on dish duty, so, that’s kinda how he’s paying for his rent right now. [let’s say, maybe give him a little break off — get a goal, you know, goal’s count.] yeah, for sure. for sure, yeah, exactly.  [and, just for color, what type of jersey does your brother wear?] he wears delly’s jersey. yeah, i know — second favorite player, yeah.

[la0istouden]

luffy thinks he is single. zoro thinks he is luffys boyfriend. sanji also thinks he is luffys boyfriend. love triangle of the century

[shadebloopnik]

Angelic Alastor AU

"Al!"

The angel turned to the voice and the sound of flapping wings just in time to see the two Archangels land behind him. The smaller of the two- with porcelain skin, rosy cheeks and an otherworldly beauty, bounded towards him full of energy. Golden eyes peered up at him as he spoke.

"Just finished with our spar, and Michael said he loved the hat! I told you it was a good idea!", Lucifer spoke, deep chuckles seeming to brighten the area by its mere presence. He punctuated his words by adjusting the top hat on his head, replacing the usual golden crown, a prideful smile on his face.

"Your brothers clearly love you too much.", Alastor snipes before facing the taller angel, and giving a polite bow. "Your Highness."

Michael gives a solemn nod, adorning a small soft smile. "Always good to see you, Altruist. I had ample time before my next meeting, so I figured I'd accompany my brother on his way to your little appointment."

Michael bore nearly identical features to his younger brother, possessing the same blonde locks, white skin, and golden eyes, albeit being considerably taller. What he lacked, falling a bit behind Lucifer's beauty, he made up for with his dignified grace, a regal authority that rivalled no other. He reminded Alastor of a frozen tundra amidst the plans for the creation of life, as precise as every detail on each snowflake.

"Very well that you did, your Grace, as your brother appears to need it quite a lot."

"It was ONE time! And your directions were very unclear!"

"I fail to see how 'meet me at the gates' translates to 'circle the entirety of heaven for 3 hours', my friend."

"There are a lot of gates in heaven! No matter! They just finished constructing the new nebula! We gotta check it out Alastor! Come on!", Lucifer said, practically bouncing on his feet in excitement and circling the other in flight before dashing off in a burst of speed.

Michael let out a rare chuckle as Alastor sighed in seeming annoyance.

"Always so sprightly, makes me wonder how you keep up with it all, Altruist.", the Archangel spoke, stepping to stand beside the red eyed angel.

"Trust me Sire, its tempting not to follow.", Alastor replied, deadpan as he set his gaze to the direction the Morningstar set off on. Left alone with the other Archangel, without Lucifer with him, Alastor couldn't help but feel a bit insecure. Shuffling his mismatch wings, he subtly moved the upper white set to cover the red and black wings below, his hold on his cane, tightening ever so slightly, though not enough for Michael to notice.

Michael smiled, finding no offense whatsoever from Alastor's words and the casualty of his jabs towards Lucifer. Despite his words, Michael could see the fondness Alastor possessed for the shorter angel, clear as day. Alastor was powerful, only ranking below the Archangels themselves in sheer strength, and would be of higher standing if not for his reclusive nature.

He always wore a smile wherever he went, but it was different for Lucifer, softer, fuller. Alastor shied away from any interaction with his angelic kind, but fully welcomes Lucifer's presence, seeking it, even. It was without a doubt that Alastor cared for his younger brother, his loyalty and selflessness when it came to the younger angel was palpable, fitting of his title, and for that, he had Michael's complete and utter respect.

"But you will, you always do.", Michael turned to face the angel, golden eyes meeting peculiar red. "Its why I trust you with his life."

Its a bit ridiculous perhaps, considering Lucifer was far more powerful than Alastor could ever be, but in the end, it mattered little. Alastor held his brother's heart, and Michael could guess it rang true vice versa.

Alastor's smile froze on his face, his sharp tongue silent as he gazed into the Archangel. A bout of silence passed, broken only by the Morningstar barreling back into Alastor at high speed.

"Alastor come on slow-wings! Hah! Get it? Slow? Wings? Come on, its hilarious, lets goooo!!", Lucifer bounced, gripping at the taller angel's arm, making a show of pulling him along. Evidently he didn't use much force, seeing as how Alastor wasn't immediately carried off, but it was enough to drag the angel rather quickly still.

"Later Michael!", the star spoke with a cheerful wave, before speeding off, dragging a squawking Alastor behind him as the other hastily flapped his mismatched wings, as he struggled to keep up.

Michael smiled at the scene, before turning to leave for his meeting.

Protect his heart, Alastor, it's all I ask of you.

_________________________

The wind roughly brushed the trees around them, as 3 pairs wings fluttered to land, every flap bringing forth powerful gusts. Michael surveyed the area as he went down to Earth, a mossy swamp littered with fireflies, blues and greens seeming to glow under the night sky. He wrenched his eyes down. He couldn't bear to look at a star right now, not after....

He shook the thought away, marching to look for the angel he was looking for. He'd been searching for hours, burning through the whole day. Alastor truly was a recluse, he was impossible to locate when he didn't want to be found. This was the last place he didn't look yet. They'd let Alastor design these swamps, letting him have at least a little hand in the creation of Earth despite his numerous refusals.

There at the edge, he could see him, standing at the edge of the water, mismatched wings cocooning him, the white set covering his entirety until his black wings were nearly out of sight.

"Altruist."

Alastor remained silent, his back to the Archangel. It was perhaps the most disrespectful thing Alastor's ever done to him, what with all his usual obsession with propriety.

"Altruist.", he called again, voice growing desperate, frustrated.

Still, there was no answer.

Michael clenched his teeth, the day's proceedings catching up to him, leaving him with far, far too many emotions.

"Alastor-"

"Don't."

Alastor's voice was cold, an icy tone that rivalled his own. It made Michael angry, frustrated and bitter. Can't Alastor see that he's hurting too? That he's also grieving?

"I lost him too, Alastor."

His voice was filled with emotion he wouldn't dare name. He had to be strong and steady for his brothers, for the rest of heaven. Im front of Alastor though? In matters regarding Lucifer? There was no one Michael could relate to more.

So why can't Alastor see? Did he think this was easy for Michael?! He lost his brother too! He's not the only one suffering!

But deep inside, Michael knew. It wasn't the same. He knew how deep the bond between Alastor and Lucifer ran, perhaps deeper than he ever had with his brother.

Michael's heart was already given to Heaven as a whole, but Alastor's only belonged to one.

"Tell me Michael, whose life did you entrust to me, again?", Michael felt ice crawl up his spine, his heart growing heavier with each word. Alastor spun around, unfurling his wings to face the Archangel. His crimson eyes were redder than usual.

"How, pray tell, am I supposed to do what you asked, when you cast down the one I was supposed to protect? Tell me how can I protect him from the fiery pits you all threw him into? How, am I supposed to GO ON WITHOUT-!"

'Without them', he almost said. No, he couldn't be reckless, couldn't let his emotions get the better. They couldn't know about his own relations with Lilith, he promised the two he'd stay safe. No matter how much it ached, he couldn't go against them.

Michael furrowed his brows in understanding, letting the accusations wash over him. If it were anyone else, he'd have already smote them down for the audacity, but this was Alastor. This was the angel who held his brother's heart; angry and emotional and dreadfully loyal to the star even now. If anything, in respect for his brother, he could endure this.

Schooling his expression, he'd gaze back at the fuming angel before him, his face a blank slate.

"Lucifer's actions were reckless and destructive, with severe consequences. His reckless disobedience, his affiliation with the first woman, its shattering the very foundation of order we worked so hard to maintain. Such crimes cannot go unpunished."

His voice was cold, adopting the mask of a ruthless prince. Right now, he wasn't a brother, he was Michael, Sword of Justice, Protector of Heaven. He had to learn to separate each title, it was the only way to ensure he did his role right. He can't be a brother right now. He won't, not for this.

He wishes it made it hurt less.

As emotionally compromised as he was, Alastor couldn't mask the pain in his face as he squeezed his eyes shut at Michael's tone, knowing he was now speaking to a soldier, not a friend. The sight of it almost made Michael want to break down the mask. Almost. Not nearly enough to actually do so. He was able to bear casting down his own brother, this was nothing.

The thought sent another pang to his heart, and he pushed it to the back of his mind.

"I love him too..", his voice was low, resigned, all energy leaving him as he looked away from the angel before him. Michael was so so tired. "It had to be done."

The swaying of the leaves and the buzz of nearby fireflies were the only things breaking the deafening silence. Now that he thought about it, didn't Lucifer help make these? Little bursts of light flying amidst a darkened swamp...

Why must everything hurt Michael today?

He heard the other take a deep breath, and turned to see the other adopt a smile. It didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Thank you for your visit, your Highness. You may take your leave now."

Alastor always smiled, even when he didn't mean it, but none of those ever felt as wrong as this one.

"Alas-"

Michael cut off his own words at the other's glare. Alastor's eyes glowed a deep red, his sclera giving its own crimson glow. His glowing wings seemed to curl closer around him. All this while still keeping on that damned smile. It was uncomfortable. It served little to intimidate someone as powerful as Michael, but this wasn't about power.

He's never seen Alastor look so broken.

He may be set apart from the other angels, but he always looked so happy with Lucifer.

......but Lucifer isn't here anymore, is he?

Suppressing a sigh, Michael kept his voice level. ".....Altruist."

Alastor's smile only seemed to widen, contrasting with how his wings curled tighter around himself in a cocoon.

"I wish to be alone. Now.", the deceptively cheerful tone made Michael sick.

Without another word Michael turned around. There was no fixing this. Alastor looked as though a single action would cause him to flee. If Michael didn't take his leave, he'd have left anyway. All Alastor wanted was Lucifer, and Lucifer was condemned in Hell. There's nothing he could do.

As he spread out his wings, he took one last glance at Alastor's smiling face, before taking off, ignoring the muffled sounds of sobbing he left in his wake.

It was the last time he's ever seen Alastor smile.

[catgirljaneway]

(last images sourced from this wonderful post)

Voy + Textposts 11- Special Chakotay being a hater edition!

(Voy + Textposts 11) + (Voy + Textposts 13)

[ingravinoveritas]

Michael Sheen really said let me show you the tenderness with which I worship David Tennant's entire body and soul by using middle-aged actors as avatars of us in my directorial debut and oh by the way David's wife Georgia is also in the scene because she likes to watch. Cut, print, moving on...

[genericaces]

remembered my doomed weslah(?) post-nfa au that i can only describe as "wesley is an unofficial third to a semi-retired frunn who are now hippies in portland and also lilah is there"

wes grows a depression beard and gets really into building birdhouses. sometimes lilah, still liaison for w&h, shows up and together they're the most sexually tense couple at the farmer's market. (lilah makes him shave the beard)

obviously lilah decides that she needs to insert herself into this non-throuple in order to make wesley jealous and admit that he cares about... something. other than birdhouses.

anyways every visit inevitably ends with lilah being called back to work by the senior partners. she only gets to snag brief moments of freedom before she goes back to work, and every time wes has to say goodbye to her all over again he gets all morose and guilty about it.

and i think it's ultimately about hanging onto guilt and loss past the point where it's helpful for you because it's your last connection to someone, even though it's keeping you from living your life in the present, because on some level the idea of being happy feels like a betrayal. and trying to figure out what moving on even looks like

[peggingeddiediaz]

Eddie Diaz forgetting to log out of his work twitter account part 131/?

[essenceofarda]

Haleth and Caranthir's wife 👀