#we may never know…

[epiclamer]

Sitting on the hard concrete floor of a jail cell with a singular water bottle was not exactly Hero’s ideal way to spend their Friday night. Not that they really had a choice during a kidnapping, but they sure as hell wished they could’ve at least fought off their attacker.

Instead, the bugger had drugged them out of their mind with a few roofies in their evening coffee and dragged them back to their holding cell. At least that’s how the hero was envisioning the last few hours since their brain was pulling a complete blank.

“Ah, Hero… Finally awake, hm?”

The crime-stopper looked up from their position on the floor, eyes darting around the dark room until they could spot a silhouette in the back, far off from the bars that contained them. It took a good few seconds of processing and a couple squints for the hero to make out that their kidnapper was in fact their one and only nemesis; Villain.

At once, the hero’s anxiety lifted and their stomach twisted. Villain was a good sign, the two of them had been fighting for months now and had somewhat grown fond of each other after sharing a few rather… intimate moments.

However.

Villain was also a pain in Hero’s ass. All of their stunts brought on loads of paperwork and a heartache Hero couldn’t afford to call in sick to handle.

“L-Lucky me, huh?” They cleared their throat, taking another swig from the now half-empty water bottle they had been ‘generously’ left with. “Were you worried about me, darling?” They purred, winking with a confidence they truly lacked in this situation.

The villain scoffed, coming forwards out of the shadows as they stalked toward the hero’s prison. “Actually, yes.”

Their boots reached right before the cell bars, too close to be considered an enemy to the hero, yet too far to be considered a friend.

Slowly but surely, Hero pulled themselves to their feet, using the bars to help support their swaying weight, until they could look the villain straight in the eyes. “Is that so? Put a bit too much sedative in my coffee? Worried it might slow my heart all the way to a stop?” They punctuated their last word with a jab to the villain’s breastplate right where their heart lay.

The villain didn’t react. “Well excuse me if I get my dosage wrong when I try to mix a muscle relaxant into a brain stimulant.”

They both shared a small smirk, neither of them shared the same feeling behind it. Villain’s was conniving, Hero’s was cheeky.

“Oh poor Villain, hm? Next time tell me before you kidnap me that way I can buy a water bottle instead.”

Villain snorted, glancing over the hero’s appearance quickly before locking eyes with them once more. “I would’ve, and I will for next time. But today the occasion is a little different.”

It was crazy how fast the hero’s heart could lurch into their throat.

“How so?”

“Supervillain wants to see you.”

“What for.”

The criminal took a breath, probably able to smell the fear seeping from the hero’s pores all of a sudden and desperate for a simpler way to put what they were about to say next.

“It’s their birthday—”

“You’re gifting me to Supervillain!?”

The villain looked a little sheepish now, though not at all remorseful. “They’ve offered me a sector of their territory—it’s quite large really—in return for a day with the city’s saviour.”

Everything came crashing down onto the hero, all of their previous relief towards seeing the villain had vanished. What was left of their flirty behaviour and composure was long gone. They were going to be sick.

Sick or maybe they would just pass out, or black out and kill the villain in a violent stupor; they hadn’t decided yet.

“L-Let me get this straight.” Hero smoothed a hand through their suddenly sweaty hair. “Supervillain offered you a chunk of their made-up criminal territories, if you could deliver me firsthand in time for their birthday.”

“They said they would return you in one piece to the Agency, if that helps?”

Hero was definitely going to throw up. A whole day with the Supervillain? They were done for. “You mean return my dead body in one piece.”

Villain was definitely paler—as if the true outcome of their actions was just being realized—but hardly as panicked as the hero was. “Supervillain promised they wouldn’t hu—”

“Do you trust Supervillain.”

With wide eyes the villain blinked at the panicking hero and the crime-stopper could already tell the answer, but they wanted to hear it. Hero knew that Villain had gone through rigorous conditioning with Supervillain for years before they met the hero, but somehow they had thought they were finally getting through that shell and into the real Villain’s heart.

“Villain. Do you trust Supervillain.”

The criminal’s features darkened, body language shifting towards increasingly uncomfortable. They nodded—almost robotically.

“Supervillain knows what’s best for me—what’s best for all of us.”

Hero’s heart sank.

[z-1-wolfe]

Obviously Penny's picture she intended to send to Weiss went to Ruby :P

gee whiz… i guess she became the infamous middle man… for now at least XD

[sclappin]

Man whose definition of "monster" is extremely flexible.

[radiance1]

This au again lawl. Where Danny wears these special sunglasses to hide his eyes that also track down ghosts in his human form.

The Justice League tracks down a summoning for the ghost king, an eons old tyrant of the infinite realms and known to bring war and devastation whenever he is summoned.

The cultists do manage to summon the ghost king, except, not how they wanted. They did indeed summon the king, but Pariah Dark is still trapped in eternal sleep and somehow, just, somehow, they managed to draw the lottery and dragged the Sarcophagus of Forever Sleep to the summoning circle.

So there the Justice League were, wondering what to do with the (currently) locked away and sleeping ghost king.

Until Constantine's coat flipped itself open and a boy with glowing white hair and a mist of blue blowing from his mouth.

"Old man." The boy greeted.

"Brat." Constantine said.

"Do you mind explaining why and how this," The boy gestured to the Sarcophagus. "Is here and not in Pariah's Keep?"

"Funny story, that one." Constantine said, only half-jokingly. He then went on to explain that the Justice League came to track down cultists, said cultists somehow managed to drag that here, and now they didn't quite know what to do with it.

The boy stood still for a moment, before taking off his sunglasses to pinch the bridge of his nose and sighed, a large amount of blue flame spilling from his mouth. "Ancients above, why is it every time something notable happens, it's always you?"

Constantine snorted, reaching into his coat for a pack of cigarettes and lighting himself one. "Hypocritical coming from you."

"I know, but still." The boy walked over to the Sarcophagus and sat on it, as if it wasn't the thing currently holding one of the most powerful ghosts in the infinite realms. "You know smoking is bad for you, right?"

"What, you learned that in class?" Constantine snarked, making no move to do anything and causing the boy to sigh again, toxic green eyes looked around the room, falling over each hero present before homing in on Flash. The boy pointed to him. "You. Come here."

"Whatcha want with red?" Constantine asked and the boy simply shrugged his shoulders. "Passing on a message."

The boy blinked once, and if he was surprised that the Flash was already in front of him, then he didn't show it. He reached into his pocket, pulled out a green sticky not, motioned for Flash to bent down and stuck it on his forehead.

Superman was... concerned. There was a heartbeat there, he could hear it, but it was so slow and seemed rather weak, like the boy was near death.

"Alright, now I gotta get old mean and green back to his keep before the Observants get on my case." The boy put back on his sunglasses and got up, waving Flash away and lifting up the Sarcophagus above his head he walked over to Constantine, whose face wrinkled.

"That ain't going to fit." The warlock pointed out and the boy scoffed, probably rolling his eyes behind his glasses. "And you've fit bigger things, just shut up and lift the coat old man."

Constantine did so, and somehow the boy just shoved the entire Sarcophagus inside. The boy was very obviously smug as the blue mist that was blowing from his mouth the entire time petered out. "I'll clean up the mess on my end," The boy said before waving his hand in the Justice League's general direction. "You deal with all that."

"Just get going already, I'm not about to get those sentient eyeballs on my ass."

"Yea, yea. You got enough to deal with as is." The boy then stepped inside Constantine's cloak and as soon as the man let it drop, he disappeared.

Constantine looked around the room, silently assessing the situation as he brought another cigarette to his lips.

He lamented the fact he would have to deal with this sober.

[funtergeist]

another lovely falin art piece from you! i am so happy. i love love love how you colored her hair and her feathers, it all just seems so very comfortable. like a very delicious s'mores or some other warm, kind of gooey marshmallow. i'm sorry if this expression comes off as weird, but i do mean it as a high compliment!

thank you again!! a falin smore for you :)

[chloesimaginationthings]

I can't be the only one.

I’ll be honest and say I literally did base William’s face off this image…

[hailsatanacab]

A Persuasive Argument - dpxdc

"Great!" Danny says, clapping his hands together to get everyone's attention. The dinner table falls silent as everyone looks towards him. It's a full house today and, honestly, Danny's a little nervous. "I'm sure you're all wondering why I gathered you here today."

"It's dinnertime. In our house." Duke mutters, while doing a very bad job of concealing his yawn. He holds his fork poised over the braised beef, but, just like everyone else, still looks towards Danny before tucking in. It's intriguing enough to wait.

"Yeah, no one misses Alfie's dinner." Dick says, with a brilliant smile that Danny can't help but return.

"Precisely! What better time to talk to you all than when you're all actually here!"

"Wait, I thought you came round to work on our English essays?" Tim asks, blinking owlishly.

"I'm afraid I've lured you here under false pretences, Tim."

"This is where I live."

"I would still really appreciate help on that essay though, I mean, what the hell is Hamlet even about? I just don't get that old time-y language, like 'Hark! A ghost hath killed me!' - absolute rubbish, what does that even mean?"

"The ghost never kills anyone in Hamlet, he's there to tell Hamlet that he was murdered. Have you actually read it?"

"No, but it sounds like you have. Tim, I want this guy to help me with my essay instead. I know for a fact that you haven't read Hamlet, either."

"So? We don't need Jason, I've read the Sparknotes."

"Hi Jason, I'm Danny, pleasure to meet you, summarise Hamlet in three sentences or less."

"Am I auditioning to help you write your essays? I can't believe you’ve gone through your whole school life without reading it, it’s good!"

"Hamlet, along with a number of other classics, was banned in our house because it portrayed ghosts as intelligent and sympathetic beings rather than evil, animalistic beasts. I didn’t even get to see The Muppet's Christmas Carol until last year with Tim! It was surprisingly good, and I hate Christmas because everyone always argued and it sucked. But we're getting off topic. I—"

"No, no, please go back to that, because what the fu—"

"Boys, please." Bruce interrupts, looking to the world as if he wants to hang his head in his hands. "Danny, you were about to say something?"

"Oh, yeah, Mr. Wayne! Thanks!"

"Please, call me Bruce."

"Well, that very succinctly brings me to my point, because I'd actually really like to call you dad."

Nobody says a word. Nobody even blinks, all as shocked as the other, watching open-mouthed as Danny pulls his laptop out from beside his chair. Bruce can definitely feel a headache coming on.

"Before you say anything, I've prepared a 69 slide PowerPoint presentation on why you, Bruce Wayne, should adopt me, Danny Last-Name-Pending. Please save your questions, comments, and verdict until the end, thank you."

[floccinaucinihilipilificationa]

Hey hey hey may 31th anon! How's 2024 going? ☆ヾ(*´▽｀)ﾉ This year I have for you a leaked Sherlock season 5 image. Thinking of you!! And everyone!!

[morganbritton132]

Someone on TikTok posted a video that’s like, “I think Eddie Munson has a Tumblr account.”

Their evidence? A clip from a video Mike posted complaining about being dragged out of the house at ass o’clock in the morning to go hiking. In the background you can hear Eddie say, “It’s fucking wimdy out here.”

Someone stitched their video with one of Corroded Coffin on a podcast like, “I think you’re onto something.”

In the clip, Eddie’s reading out the instructions for a game but fucks the entire sentence up. He pauses, takes a breath, and then mutters, “How dare you say I piss on the poor” and then begins again.

Someone else stitches the original video with the most damning evidence of all. They’re at the grocery store and go up to Eddie. They ask for his autograph and tell them that his music means a lot to them, and Eddie is really receptive and nice.

She notices his rainbow shoestrings and says, “Oh, those are cool. I like your shoelaces.”

Eddie says, “Thanks, I stole th-“

“Eddie!” Steve shouts from the checkout lane, “C’mon, we have ice cream!”

“Sorry, gotta go. Nice to meet you.”

[hey-hey-j]

a literal metaphor

(★ my Kofi) | (★ commission info)

[egophiliac]

so on the subject of the "Crowley is secretly Revaan/Laverne/Levin/please Twst give us his name" theory, I think my feelings are best summed up as "I don't really buy it, but it's funny". like, in all seriousness, I'm not opposed to it; I have enjoyed the writing in Twst so far and I'm willing to trust that whatever happens will, you know, make sense and not be terrible. but I'm just not really convinced by the current evidence! maybe that'll change once we learn more, we'll see!

with that said, may I propose a few alternate theories about the possible Crowley/Revaan connection:

[shalom-iamcominghome]

If anyone is interested, please feel free to light a digital candle through Illuminate. I got a name a few years back, and it's a name I won't forget. May every name we have found be a blessing. May their names never be forgotten. May we never forget.

Never again means now.

[gum-drop-glitch]

I finally broke through my art block! Sort of! This took forever to finish and I’m still not 100 percent satisfied with it, but I have to stop poking at it so here we are. Hope y’all like this silly thing.

[choccy-milky]

the place me and my roommate were supposed to move into today was so disgusting and uninhabitable we just took our stuff and left and now we're gonna be staying at airbnbs and hotels until further notice/until we can find a new place hopefully quickly...........im in my homeless drifter era y'all!!!😍😍so if im not as active then thats why LMFAO

1 like = 1 prayer

[lennadanvers]

TW: mentions of sex/penetration/being naked; maybe like hinting at dark(ish) themes?? Soap being a lil weird desperate gremlin. This is so short.

Soap doesn't fuck.

He consumes.

It's not about blowing off steam or whatever, either. He has no problem saying it's just that, but it isn't. No, when he has sex with you it's because he's already exhausted all the other (tamer) ways of being close to you.

It's not about the sexual pleasure. It's not that kind of desire. It's his need to be around and inside you. To be you. It's like the need you get when you see something that is too cute and you just need to crush it between your hands. Except that Soap's feelings are darker.

He wants to feel you all over. Deeply. He needs closeness, desperately. He whines and moans purely out of relief when he can touch you; so much skin to skin. Soap presses his chest and belly to your back, and his hips to your ass, and your legs to his, and his neck to your shoulder, and his breath to your head... His arms constrict your chest and arms, hands clawing at your waist and biceps, whatever he can put his fingers on.

He doesn't even care about penetration. Sure, it's nice. Though not so much if it means he'll have to move away, even if it's just a little, to go in and out. No, he prefers grinding.

"Sex" is a good cover for what he actually needs. Except that things start to get a little complicated when you've both finished and he's still rubbing his body against yours. And is he purring?

[agentc0rn]

I was meant to protect and nurture life, not destroy it.