#i keep forgetting about him

[mineralboa]

felt silly

theyre besties i promise...

oh also theres this guy

[nonbinarylesbianherb]

so rhaenicent brained that anytime I see a post "Rhaenyra cheating with Mysaria" I immediately think they mean cheating on Alicent before I remember Daemon exists and is her husband

[technically-human]

Hear me out. Father son relationship between shadow and stone AND shadow hates Robotnik for dating stone 😦

This is my truth

[lemongogo]

life of regret

[robinfrinjs]

Cindric is still in ????

[swampybogg]

[pineapple-frenzy]

Book 2 au: sparring sessions and short hair katara

They like to have sparring sessions in order to keep their bending skills sharp. They allow themselves to go all out and not hold back at all cause they know if anyone got hurt, Katara could just heal them

But anyways, wouldn't it be kinda funny if Zuko accidentally burned Katara's hair tho? Aofkqldkkajfjd

The "I think we can save the hairloops" line is from @linnoya-writes thank you for that!! :>>

[pjs-everyday]

it's not too late for a summer beach episode, is it? 🥲

[azulhood]

Conversations between best friends has often led to some reckless/stupid/not thought out at all decisions. Like one conversation the amity park trio had where Danny said that he couldn't see Tucker as a doctor (the medical kind) to which Tucker responded with "Alright, bet." and enrolled in medical school. ----------------------------------------------------------------- Bruce Wayne and Tucker Foley somehow by coincidence *cough* clockwork* became friends. And stayed friends even after Bruce dropped out and Tucker went on to finish med school. It was a strange friendship that was mainly just Bruce calling Tucker from the weirdest locations and asking things "Out of curiosity, if an immortal nutjob wanted you to marry his daughter and become his heir what would you do? uh-huh, uh-huh, really? ok, thanks." and meeting up for coffee every now and then. It was during one of these coffee meet-ups that Bruce confessed that he wanted to adopt a recently orphaned child by the name of Richard. There was currently push back from people who didn't think 'Brucie Wayne' would be a good parent and from others who didn't want a random kid having a chance to inherit the Wayne fortune, the media was also having a field day. Everyone kept asking him to "reconsider" and doing everything they can to stall/stop the adoption process. Tucker, being the good friend he was, said "Don't worry, I got this" Stood up from the cafe table, walked to the nearest library and politely asked to use one of their computers, spent a good ten minutes on it, printed something out on the library's printer, walked back to the cafe where he left Bruce waiting. And finally, he handed over the paper with the words "Take this." and continued drinking his now cold coffee. Bruce was, understandably, confused. "What is-" "Trust me, it'll work." Tucker assured him. That is how Bruce Wayne adopted one Richard 'Dick' Grayson.

And after that, Bruce went to Tucker whenever he came across a kid that he wanted to adopt, which was often. It's one reason why Tucker will do everything in his power to make sure Danny and Bruce never meet for fear that the Gothamite might try to add the Halfa to the growing army of children. Aka

Tucker Foley is The Guy

[honeybard]

if there's one thing about Lou Wilson it's that he goes above and beyond when given the option to sabotage himself and his party

[tsukk1]

making songs about frogs and bugs !!

[iwasbored777]

The rest of the world was saved but his world was destroyed 💔

[starry-bi-sky]

Blood Blossom Au: Baby's First Commissioner Meeting :)

TL:DR This Post: Danny (orphan) gets poisoned with blood blossom extract by Vlad. He runs away from him and ends up under the care of one Pre-Robin Battinson Batman! Starry is loudly pushing her batdad agenda.

(Also known as "Late At Night, When The Nightingale Sings" on my ao3!)

This was a fun rough idea I've been sitting on for weeks, thinking about how Commissioner Gordon and Nightingale's first meeting might go.

---------------

Commissioner Gordon likes to think that he's adjusting to the new normal of Gotham very well, -- the new normal being grown men running around dressed like bats, in military-grade strength body armor, committing acts of vigilantism, -- and slowly, little by little, he was no longer being surprised when this new normal pops up out of the shadows like the world's most terrifying daisy. His shaving lifespan thanks him for it.

....

The kid is a surprise though.

Granted, he seemed to be a surprise to the Bat too.

There's been a string of murders lately, -- which, in Gotham, is kind of like saying there's been another storm during monsoon season. And there's just been another; in some dilapidated building down in south Gotham, with the broken, boarded-up windows and mildew-crawling walls to match. The victim is a man in his thirties, multiple gunshot wounds to the chest, left in the center of the room for the blood to pool out around him.

The place is already secured when he arrives, the building swarmed with officers and the forensic detectives. The Bat emerges shortly after he does -- or, he might've been here the whole time, hiding someplace dark and shadowy. For his own sanity, Gordon doesn't think about it too hard.

The kid is a surprise, and he appears like a bolt of lightning.

He shows up in the middle of a conversation Gordon is having with the Bat.

A whistle, sharp and loud, slicing through the air, meant for open air rather than a confined space. Gordon's ears pierce and protest the sound, and the solemn, murmured chatter floating through the room abruptly cuts off like the swing of a gavel. As he turns towards the sound -- as they all do -- he swears, up and down, that he sees Batman's shoulders jump, just slightly.

At the source, perched on the window, is a boy. A boy in a gray-blue scarf and an oversized black hoodie, one that hangs off his frame and has ace bandages wrapped around the wrists in some attempt to cinch the sleeves. The hood is up, big like the rest of it, and threatens to swallow the upper half of the boy's face whole in the fabric. What upper half Gordon can see, is smeared with some kind of opaque, black face paint. He's holding onto the side of the frame with one hand, on his hip is a grappling hook. A familiar grappling hook.

Gordon has multiple questions, and his officers tense up.

Martinez puffs up, brows furrowing as his face shapes into a frown. Shoulders rolling back. "You can't be here, kid--"

The reaction is immediate, like a spark to gunpowder, the boy yanks his fingers from his mouth and his mouth twists into a scowl. Head snapping over to Officer Martinez, his hood manages to stay on but Gordon swears that as he bares his teeth, the glint makes them look sharper than they should be. His voice is rasp and quiet and harsh; snappish in its hissing; "Put a fuckin sock in it, Martinez. I'm not stayin."

Martinez reels back, and the boy immediately veers his attention off him. Like a switch, his demeanor drops. Despite half his face being covered, his mouth twists into a cringing, apologetic smile. Slanted and off-beat, embarrassed. It'd be disarming if this wasn't Gotham, and if he didn't just hiss at Martinez like he was about to bite his head off.

"Sorry." He whispers, voice deceptively polite and softer now. Gordon has to strain his ears to hear him. "I was looking for him."

He points his finger towards-- Gordon? No, Gordon follows the direction, and finds himself looking at -- the Bat.

The Bat, who always looks stiff as a pole, now looks even stiffer. Somehow. Well, the explains the grappling hook attached to the boy's waist.

"What are you doing here?" The Bat says, gruff and unable to completely smother the stumble of surprise in his tone.

The boy still holds a sheepish smile, and slips off the window ledge. His feet hit the creaky boards with a near-silent thud, the Batman finds his feet and rapidly begins crossing the room.

Gordon notes the slight tremble in the boy's legs as he straightens. He adjusts his scarf, which droops close to his knees now that he's standing, and slings a backpack -- how long has had that? -- off his shoulders. When the Bat reaches his side, he does as he always does, and looms over the boy like a spectre. A threatening mass of shadows cloaked in all-consuming black. Standing next to him, the boy looks teeny in comparison.

The Bat is a man who terrifies even the most hardened criminals, Gordon has seen grown men shiver in fear at the mention of his name. And yet when the boy looks up at him, he doesn't even flinch.

Instead, his sheepish smile melts away like ice under the sun, holding only traces of his previous embarrassment. It remains as a shadow on his face, a small upturn at the corners of his mouth. The boy pushes his hood back just enough to reveal glinting, ice-flint eyes surrounded in tar-black face paint. He holds the backpack up with one arm. "You forgot this."

[siri-ike]

Clone Danny long post

The footprints lead Alfred out of the room and to the right but quickly dried up on the short hair carpet.

Alfred checked every room to the right of Danny's. He had to have left the family wing. 40 minutes of searching later, Alfred was about to go down yet another hallway when he heard faint music and metal clanging. He walked closer to the sound until he could make out some words.

🎶I- can hear the sound of violins🎶

🎶long before- it begins🎶

The gym. Someone is at the gym. He told Dick to relax. This is the opposite of relaxing. He stops for a moment outside the door to gather himself. People listen to empathy more than anger. When Alfred pushed the door open and looked down at the workout area, he didn't see a disobedient clown. No. Instead, he was forcibly dragged back to 1989, staring at a 13 year old Bruce doing chest presses. He always looked the most at ease when he was at the gym. The rest of the time, he would be looking for his parents' killer or discovering seacret organizations. Alfred used to cherish the time Bruce spent at the gym because he knew it was the closest he could get to calm. Shortly, Danny put down his 3 kg weights and addressed Alfred.

"Morning, Alfred. Breakfast already? Thought I had more time." He sounded like Bruce, more than just his voice. Danny had his own way of talking, but this was all Bruce.

"Young Master," best not to object to his perceived reality, whatever that may be. "It's almost seven in the afternoon, not morning." The sun would have spoiled that for him anyway. "And dinner will be ready in two hours."

"Oh, ok. I'll be there at nine then." Danny simply went over to the next station in his routine. Right as he sat down on the floor, something seemed to dawn on him. "Alfred? Did something happen to me?" He asked innocently.

Alfred remained frozen, staring at the young boy. "What would give you that idea?"

"I woke up in a different room than usual, I had to switch down all my weights, and the files in my father's office have been moved. And then you came in looking like you've seen a ghost." Ever the detective.

"Nothing gets past you. I'm afraid you had a rather bad fever and spent a few days in bed. I would like to examine your health, but it can wait. Let's say, eight-thirty? Before dinner?"

"Kitchen at eight-thirty, got it."

Alfred left the room and braced himself on the door. He thinks he's Bruce. He probably thinks it's the 80s or 90s, too. It's a good thing most everyone is out hunting down clues and/or committing extreme acts of violence.

Danny had changed into an all black suit (bowtie and kerchief included) before coming to the kitchen at 8:27. Hmm, he does like to be punctual. His temperature and heart rate were normal, for once he didn't have bags under his eyes, which responded in time to light. But, he was definitely younger than he was when he arrived. Dick wasn't imagining that.

"Can you tell me your name, age, and today's date?"

"Bruce Thomas Wayne, 12, almost 13, today is November, uh," He struggled a bit. "17th? Maybe a bit later, 1988." He avoided eye contact. "Just so we're clear, I wouldn't have known today's date even if I hadn't been sick."

Alfred smiled a little, remembering how much he used to care about getting good scores on everything. "I'll be sure to include that in the report." He retorted sarcastically, earning a small grin back. "Now go wash up, dinners almost ready."

As per routine, Alfred started by bringing out the helthiest dishes. They all knew it was a trick to get them to eat vegetables, but no one was ever willing to wait. Danny was so hungry, even the brussel sprouts were appetizing. Now if Alfred could just stop staring at him and actually put the container on the table.

"Alfred?"

"W, what?"

"Are you OK?"

Danny had combed his hair when he'd asked him to wash up. This was Bruce. This was the boy Alfred raised. The one who had fallen asleep in his arms every night for months because he refused to be alone in the dark. The one who used to "forget" to tell Alfred about the handfuls of peanut butter in his pockets, ruining thousand dollars dress pants on six different occasions. The one who wanted to keep street cats knowing full well he was allergic.

"Do you need a day off? Or maybe a week?"

"What? No. I'm alright master Bruce. Just, uhm, glad to see you have your appetite back. That's all." Keep it together now. He set down a steaming glass dish full of baked carrots, sweet potatoes, bell peppers, onions, brussel sprouts, broccoli, cauliflower, and mushrooms.

Danny took as big a serving as he could fit (vegetables can only go in the top right on his plate), making sure not to let the butter run too much. The next dish was steamed turnip. Crap. Another vegetable. Can't mix them. Can't put it somewhere else. The only option is to finish the baked vegetables fast.

By the time he finished his quarter of a turnip, six more dishes had already shown up. How many people does Alfred think live here?

At 21:11 Dick walked into the dining room. Dressed in a plain shirt and pants. The two boys looked like they were going to entirely different events.

"Hello." Danny invited. "I'm sorry, have we met?"

"This gentleman is detective Richard Grayson." Alfred interjected. "Master Dick, would you care to join us for dinner?"

"Oh, where are my manners? Here, have a seat. There's plenty of food."

The dinner after that was awkward, but nice. It's good to have some company once in a while. Ever since his parents died, it's just been him and Alfred.

He did wake up late in the afternoon, so it shouldn't be such a surprise that he got to stay up and watch his gray ghost VHS tapes way later than his usual bedtime. Only interrupted occasionally by Alfred, making sure he's keeping all that food down. He had to have been really sick. He doesn't even remember throwing up recently.

He must have dosed off at some point because he was awoken abruptly at some horrid hour of the night by an ear pierceing scream. He hurried to its sorce in the family wing where he saw what looked like another Bruce, except this one had white hair and wore a black onesie. He appeared to be melting into a glowing green sludge. Bruce knelt down and grabbed the boy, who stopped screaming. Opting to bury his face in Bruce's chest instead.

Alfred came just as the gruesome scene was over. 4:50 am, same place, same time, every night. Alfred had hoped something had improved when the screaming stopped early. But rather than the typical gorey mess, there was Danny, inconsolable and covered in slime.

"Wh, wh, ah?" Who was that? What was that?? Why was that???

"Master da- Bruce." At lightning speed, Alfred was on his knees and holding Danny. "Come on, you don't have to be here." He tried to lift him up, but Danny resisted.

"...Why do you have the carpet cleaner?" He accused. "Did you know this would happen?"

[corviiids]

i think L should've tried harder to piss light off. provoking light into slipping up would not only be hilarious i also think it would be extremely easy and effective. not saying you could get light to actually confess this way, but he would definitely make more dumb mistakes if, for example, L kept interrupting their homoerotic brain chess matches to insist that kira is actually matsuda because the butts match

[sigsfigs]

let's dance

close up of them........... theyre soooo super cute to meeeee v_v)) i love you bisexuals of color............. i love them too much i think fabian deserves to be with a sweet passionate girl who loves him for who he is and not go through messy toxic situationships anymor e wuhhhhh