#she looks very ghostly

[starrysharks]

zeno's ultimate pokemiku tierlist ⁉️(it's all his opinion and he loves them all regardless⁉️)

[tigergendermoved2tigergender]

I'm ngl the longer it's been since I've played TOTK the less I like it I think

[ribbonpinky-art]

Like a beautiful flower pinned to a collar you sit

[zippityzap]

Ghosts of Christmas Past, Present, and Future 🎄

[countdown-til-sanders-take-over]

she's so original twyla realness here

HER

[sir-ghost-the-green]

me, watching the latest Star Wars movie with my mother for the sole reason of making fun of it: Another thing i hate, i haven’t been this frustrated by a “who’s the parents” plotline since i was a middle schooler reading The Mortal Instruments for the first time, and at least Jace had a good personality

my mother: most of the time, anyway

me, internally: *remembering what went down in those books, particularly the incest plotlines* she read them?? and then still bought me the books and let me read them as a middle schooler???

[acepalindrome]

Alternatives to Squishmallow

So as many of you have probably already heard, Jazwares, the company that produces Squishmallows, is donating to charities that support Israeli soldiers and the IDF. They’re also supporting Canary Mission, which has been doxxing people who speak out against Israel. BDS hasn’t called for a boycott against them, but I can’t in good faith spend my money on their products, and I would strongly encourage everyone who enjoys plushies to really think long and hard about if you want to give your money to a company that’s helping support genocide!

But the holidays are coming up, and lots of us enjoy plushies and were fans of Squishmallow, and were planning to give Squishmallows to friends and family this year.

Fortunately, there are a number of great plushie companies out there, and I want to promote some of my favorites in the hopes that folks will get their plushie fix from a source that doesn’t side with Israel. So without further ado:

Fluffnest

Fluffnest got their start on Kickstarter a few years ago, and I adore the round shapes of their PuffPal plushies! My favorite is Pete the Possum, which is probably the best possum plush I’ve ever seen. I’ve also got a beautiful moth from their Kickstarter and I’ve been wanting their bats for ages. They also recently had a Kickstarter for an Animal Crossing-esque video game featuring their plushie characters and it looks fantastic.

Squishables

I can’t get over the plague doctor plushies. They’re so perfect and cute, and they’ve released other variations of them called Alter Egos, like a ghostly version, an alien, or a really sweet cottagecore one! They’ve got a ton of variety, but what I like the most are the fantasy plushies. There’s a lich! There are dragons and demons! Cryptids! Biblically accurate angels! A lot of really fun stuff!

Also they do a lot of great charity work! Right now they’re doing an auction for the Food Bank of New York City.

AfternoonFika

AfternoonFika is a very small business of only three people, but their plushies are extremely cute. They tend to sell out fast, so I recommend following them on social media to stay on top of any restocks! They recently released a line of dinosaurs that are precious, and of course I love their iconic cactus cat and cinnamon bun bunny.

Jellycat

Jellycat has been around since 1999, so they’re the oldest of these companies. They’ve got great designs, a ton of variety, and a lot of their plushies are made to be cuddled on and not just displayed. All three of my tiny nephews sleep with a different stuffed dog from Jellycat. My mom has a sun and several succulents that she uses as decorations. There’s a little something for everyone who enjoys plushies!

If you have any other favorite companies I haven’t mentioned, feel free to add on! I’ve enjoyed Squishmallows for a while now and I’m sad to see their leadership coming out on the side that’s committing war crimes on a daily basis, but this is a good time to discover new favorite plushie companies! And remember, money speaks loudly. Even if BDS hasn’t called for a boycott of Jazwares, it sends a message when sales start dropping for companies that support genocide. It’s a small thing, but the little things we do can add up!

[yandere-writer-momo]

Yandere Head Canons:

Hypnotic Affection

Yandere Merman x Mermaid Reader x Merman

TW: manipulation, hypnotism/ drugging, tentacles, kidnapping, yandere themes, delusional behavior, etc.

Since you were young, you had been betrothed to a shark merman named Marin. Marin was a cantankerous individual and was quite rude to you since you weren’t a shark mermaid. The only reason the two of you were even betrothed was so your clans would stopped fighting… yet you knew you’d be miserable with Marin.

You often attempted to court him with various shells you’d find but he’d always rebuff you. “These shells are too small, you’ll need something better than some measly clams to have me look your way longer than a few minutes.”

His words were always as sharp as his teeth. His clawed hands would always chuck your clam shells away no matter how pretty they were, it broke your heart. You really wanted to make this marriage work… maybe he’d budge if you found a conch shell?

You bowed your head to your fiancè before you headed off back toward the sea. Marin had no idea this would be the last time he’d see you in awhile…

You swam farther and farther from home until you spotted a conch. You were on the edge of deep sea territory, so it was best to be careful or else you’d get swept up in the current… but it would be worth it if you’d gift the conch to Marin and he’d finally accept you, right?

Your eyes lit up as you slowly swam towards it but you were quickly snatched up in large tentacles, a screech left your lips when the tentacles tighter around you.

A different merman quirked their head at you as they shimmied out from their hiding spot in the coral. “A-a mermaid? I’m sorry.”

The coral colored tentacles quickly released you before ghostly pale hands began to examine your body in worry. “I just thought you were a fish… I hadn’t meant to lunge at you.”

You were surprised by how shy this merman was, his hands trembled as he shakily checked your arms to make sure there were no marks.

“I’m perfectly okay, I’m (your name). What’s your name?” The octopus merman’s cheeks went aflame when you asked him for his name.

“I-I’m Ren! I’m an octopus.” Ren’s tentacles folded into one another as if they were comforting his nerves. “I still apologize for scaring you… I’ve never seen another mermaid before.”

You smiled at Ren and offered him your hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Ren. I hadn’t meant to trespass your area… it seems I wandered a bit too far.”

“I-it’s no issue at all!” Ren beamed, his dark eyes filled with stars while his tentacles flailed in excitement. “If you want, you can stay in my burrow with me! It’s quite comfy in here.”

“That’s so sweet of you.” (Your name) beamed at Ren who ushered her inside. The merman began to become a bit jittery when she accepted so easily. He’s been wanting a mate for so long… and now she was finally here!

Ren sealed his den shut as soon as she swam in. His tentacles blocked the exit watch a large boulder. “It’s to keep predators out!” Ren reassured her as he lead her around his small home. She marveled at the various jars and vegetation he kept. “I’m a sea witch.”

“Wow! That’s really fascinating!” Ren blushed again when you didn’t mock him for being a sea witch. It made his heart flutter. You were so sweet and that made him even happier… the only issue was that you were a different species than him…

“How about I show you a few tricks?” Ren was so happy when you accepted. The octopus merman showed you a very simple spell that made his home brighter. He was thrilled when you clapped your hands and smiled. Ren was so happy to no longer be alone… and he would never let you go.

Ren offered you a meal and you happily ate with him. The vegetation made your brain a bit foggy, but the taste was delightful. Had Ren always been so attractive?

Ren smiled at your sleepy form as you yawned. “Here, how about you spend the night? It’ll be so much safer for you that way.”

You nodded and allowed him to lead you into his den. His tentacles pulled you into an embrace as he smiled. This was just too easy…

You didn’t know how much time had passed since you entered Ren’s burrow since Ren would often feed you every time you tried to leave. Ren made you such lovely meals that you slowly began to forget what even brought you to this end of the sea. You really liked Ren, so why did you have to leave again? You felt as if there was some strange phenomenon happening around you and yet you didn’t care anymore… you liked being with Ren!

Meanwhile, Marin was in shambles. You had been missing for a week now. You always showed up every other day with your stupid smile as you held up some shells you found to him… you were never away from him for long. Marin searched your home in the anemones and he searched all the reefs around yet you were nowhere to be found… were you okay? You didn’t try to go find a bigger shell for him, did you?

You didn’t know it, but Marin always gathered up all the shells he’d throw. He just wanted to look tough in front of you… but now he knew it was a mistake. You wouldn’t risk your life for a shell when you were already engaged to him, right? You were already enough… you were always enough.

A month had went by and you were still missing. Marin now took more desperate measures of swimming out farther and farther… until he spotted a conch. The shark merman rushed towards the shell and began to examine the ocean floor until he spotted a sealed off den. The merman quickly swam toward the rock and searched for a crack until he could peek in there. The sight before him horrified him.

Ren’s purple appendages slid up and down your delicate tail as his hands grasped at your hips. “Would you like to be my mate, (your name)?” Your head felt so dizzy and you could only nuzzle into him. Ren smiled down at your obedient form. What a perfect mate you’d be! It was just so easy to ensnare you and to hypnotize you with his potions… it was all so easy-

Ren was shocked when the boulder to the den was shoved open and a shark merman lunged at him. Ren screamed when one of his appendages were bitten off by the shark. Marin’s large gray form quickly scooped you up and made a swim for it. Ren tried to snatch you back, but Marin easily evaded the tentacles. Ren began to scream as he tried to give chase, but the blood gushing from his missing arm would attract more sharks… he’d have to come back for you another day…

Marin didn’t look back once until the two of you were an hour away. The shark set you down on a rock as he began to examine your body for any wounds. “You’re okay now… we’re going home.”

You tilt your head to the side in confusion at Marin’s words. Who was this merman and why did he seem so familiar? “But I was home? I live with Ren.”

Marin felt a sob rack through him before he bent down and pulled you into a hug. What had that octopus done to you? Marin would protect you this time, he’d help you get back to normal. “You’re safe now… you’re safe.”

You often sat in a trance in Marin’s den. It was as if you were in a whole other world despite being next to him, a world where Marin could no longer reach you.

“Look! I have all the shells you gave me on the walls.” Marin gestured to the various colorful clamshells with a smile. “I’m sorry I was mean before, but that didn’t mean I didn’t like you! I really do care for you, I swear.”

Marin was filled with hope each day when you’d glance at the shells but his hopes would always be dashed when you’d tilt your head off to the side. “Do I know you?”

“I’m Marin... I’m your fiance.” Marin was so frustrated that you couldn’t remember him. He had tried everything… from taking you to every spot you two grew up together to your old den, yet nothing clicked. You only ever wanted to ask about that damned octopus merman.

Marin often cuddled beside you when it was time to sleep. His muscular arms felt so strange around you compared to Ren’s slender ones. You really missed Ren…

“Psst, (your name).” You perked up when you heard Ren’s voice. You gave him a big smile before you slinked out of Marin’s arms. “Let’s go home.”

You quickly swam towards the octopus merman who scooped you into a tight hug. A big smile on his face when you accepted him. He almost felt bad for Marin if it wasn’t for the fact that the shark merman was the entire reason the two of you met! What a sucker…

[dcxdpdabbles]

DCxDP fanfic idea: Hot Wings

A new restaurant opens in Metropolis, boosting the best chiken wings this side of the country. It's a family business run by four siblings, but the owner is the second youngest, a nice young man named Danny Fenton.

He has twenty-two flavors to choose from that vary in spice. The spiciest is called "Ghost King," and the least spicy one is "Box Ghost." It's supposed to be very hard to handle the Ghost King wings, and Danny even claims Metas have a hard time handling them.

Clark tries it out with Jimmy and Lois on their shared lunch break. While both of his co-workers can't handle more than one bite, Clack can stomach three before tapping out. Danny adds his face to the wall dubbed "Ghost Court" despite the fact he couldn't do all eight.

Clark is surprised that he's the only one on there and gets placed at "Court Jester" for the number of wings he could handle. Despite the spice, the regular buffalo (or Johnny's 13) he ends up getting afterward is the best he's ever had.

The trio returned the following week for lunch, all trying a new flavor slightly higher on the spice meter. It makes his taste buds sing in the same way only Ma could accomplish.

King's Ghostly Wings rapidly becomes Clark's favorite place. He takes Conner with him the next time his brother visits and has a laugh when Conner attempts the Ghost King challenge. Conner could handle two, so he sadly didn't end up on the wall.

Conner doesn't seem to mind as he attempts to flirt with the waitress, Jasmine, who only laughs off his flirtations as Pa had beaten how to properly treat women into Conner's head. Clack watches with amusement as his clone's attention is quickly overcome by the Ember Wings he ordered (He thinks there are nine different hot peppers in there), acting like he never had real food until then.

A month later, Clark walks into King's Ghostly, smiling at Elle (Her full name is Danielle because her parents decided on a theme after Jasmine. It's Dan, Danny and Danielle.)

She sits next to the challenger wall, and he is mildly surprised to see more faces now. He no longer holds the Jester position. Instead, there is the smiling face of Stephine Brown, face red, eyes watery, and sweaty but gleeful. The words "Three and a half" indicate why she pushed him out.

Next to her is the Knight, held by a smirking Duke Thomas, proudly stating he managed four but he looks just as worn down as Stephine.

This is followed by the Grandmaster, who shows Jason Todd giving two thumbs-ups and tears streaming down his face; he managed five. Then there is Steward, who shows Tim Drake's half-dead face, looking like he was about to hurl, but his fingers are held up in the count of six.

The Queen position is a tie between one haughty Damian Wayne, looking to be glaring at the wings before him, and a mid-laugh Dick Grayson, who looks like he is having the time of his life with tears also streaming down his face. Seven each.

The King belong to Bruce Wayne who looks just as handsome and sauve as he would any photoshot. There is a half eaten wing in his mouth, while the man winks at the camera. Ariund him are plates with chicken wing bones. The count under his name shows fifteen.

Clark stares, then reaches for his cell phone. The call rings only three times before Bruce's strong voice goes through, dragging out the last word in a a cheerful shout

"What's up, ya slut!?" Great. Brucie voice. This means Bruce is in fornt of people who still think he's a airhead playboy.

"Bruce? Did you and your kids take the Ghost King wings challenge in Metropolis?" He asks anyway, because there is no way the bats were able to stomach this. How are they human?

"Clark," Bruce drags out the ar in his name, sounding like he's spinning in an office chair. Distantly, he can hear some voices mutter under their breath in annoyance. Bruce was in a board meeting he was trying to get out of. "Of course, the kids and I tried that place. Tim's friend, Conner, took him once, and he just had to have us try out the wings. Some of the best I ever had, but that challenge wasn't that hard. Not that I wouldn't mind going for the second round. I'll try it again if you're asking me out, big guy."

Clark feels a shiver run down his spine. Sometimes, he wonders if Batman and his lot had lied to them. There was no way they were human. "Ugh, no, I just wanted to check because it's a really hard-"

"This Saturday? Of course, I'm free. I'll have Alfred watch the kids. Oh and Clark, wear that suit I got you. You know the one.'' Bruce purs in his ear making the alien sit up straighter. He fights the urge to look around, upon hearing the code that Bruce had beaten into his head since day one of Batman and Superman team ups.

Bruce wanted to investigate the establishment and needed Superman's help. But what could the Fentons have done to catch the caped crusader's attention cities away?

Blushing, because couldn't Bruce think of a better cover, Clark responds. "The one with the gold or the one with rose gold?"

"Oh suger, rose gold was made for you" Bruce sighs dramaticly, implying so much in only one sentence. The Fentons weren't human then.

Clark confirms with Bruce staying long enough on the phone to hear him brag to the uncomfortable board members about his farmer boy who will be a fun roll through the hay and winces. If their "date" gets exposed, he'll have a lot of explaining to do when Lois eventually catches wind.

She took the whole "I'm Superman" thing well, so maybe the "Bruce often implies I'm his gay plaything on the side to protect our identities" thing well, too? He should wait for when she doesn't have access to kryptonite, just in case.

"Here you are," Danny says, walking over with a tray. With a kind, relaxed smile, he places Clark's order in front of him. It's the same one he's grown used to since first coming here but for the first time Clark notices the sense of other hidden in his eyes.

Behind him Dan is working on some wings at the open bar where various kids are watching with wide eyes. If Clark stares hard enough he swears he can see the tip of his pony tail lift as if flouting. Elle is carying more then she should be able to lift, and he realized she was pretending to struggle with the overloaded dishes as she busted.

Jasmin is the only one that seems human, calmly cashing out a family at the register.

Of course Clark missed all the signs but the Bats clocked them, likely the very first time Tim walked in here with Conner.

"Thanks, Danny," He says, still mindful of his manners. Who knows, maybe they aren't up to anything. It's not a crime to not be human. He should know.

As Clark bites into his wings, he prays there are no crimes going on. He would be really sad to see his favorite lunch place gone.

[deadsetobsessions]

He could overlook a lot of things, but this was getting ridiculous. You’d think seasoned vigilantes would have better excuses prepared, but Danny had caught that flash of panic that crossed Tim’s face as Danny came face to face with Tim dragging an unconscious Steph to her designated room in the manor.

“Uh.”

“Danny! Uh, Stephanie brained herself- uh, sliding down the bannisters and- pleasedon’ttellBruce.”

Danny blinks, staring at Tim and then very pointedly, very slowly, turned his head back towards the direction he came from: the main hall… where the bannisters were. He wonders what vigilante hijinks they were trying to hide from B this time.

Tim coughs, trying to inch Stephanie away. “Uh. She was doing… cartwheels?”

Danny let his eyes slowly take in the bruises that were clearly not from “cartwheeling in the mansion” on the both of them. There’s a huge bandaged cut on Steph’s forearm and a giant bruise on the edge of Tim’s jaw. Tim’s face twitches nervously, not that anyone else would have noticed- except Danny has enhanced ghost senses and could feel the panic coming off of his adopted brother.

“You know…” Shit, what does he do? Not knowing would be so much easier if these idiots gave him good excuses! “I don’t think I want to know what you two have been up to… but should I be worried for your, uh, physical health?”

“Nope!”

“… Okay.” He says. Tim opens his mouth to make further excuses but Danny adds quickly, “But don’t tell me, because if Bruce asks, I want plausible deniability.”

Cartwheels, Danny’s ghostly ass. Luckily, this show of doubt reaffirms Tim’s belief that Danny believes them all of the other times. Danny grins inwardly, planning capitalizing on the guilt that flashed over Tim’s face.

“Deal.”

“Want help?” The halfa points at Steph, who’s still being dragged over the carpet by a noodle armed Tim. Danny knows Tim’s strong, he’s a vigilante, but it’s funny watching him pretend to struggle.

“Please. I’m so tired right now.” He looks it too. Danny’s brows furrow with genuine concern when he takes in Tim’s drowned raccoon look. He picks up Steph, firmly removing her from Tim’s suddenly weak grip. Being careful to avoid her injuries, Danny nods at the door to her room. Tim cracks it open and does a little showy gesture towards the inside.

“C’mon, we’ll tuck her in and then I’ll tuck you in.”

“What, you don’t have to do that.”

“If you don’t let me tuck you in and make sure you sleep, I’ll tell Alfred who really accidentally poured boiling hot coffee on his azaleas last week. And I’ll sic Dick on you and tell him you haven’t been sleeping enough.”

“You drive a hard bargain,” Tim grumbles. “But fine. It’s really not my fault I’m this tired. A missing spleen is hard to handle, you know.”

“Yeah, missing an organ sucks,” Danny says, shit eating grin hidden long enough to catch the contemplative bloodhound look that passes over Tim’s face.

“Which- uh, which one of your organs is missing?”

“Liver.” Danny says, remembering the flashes of pain. He tilts his head away to hide the grin at Tim’s panicked face.

When he tucks Tim in, he pretends to believe Tim’s sleeping act and left his room while mumbling about the Wayne’s clumsiness and bruises and stocking up on bruise cream. He couldn’t even enjoy Tim’s floundering, this time, worried as he is.

——

“Brother.” Danny half turns his head, just to beam a sunny smile at Cass. He signs an exuberant hello. The halfa hangs up his coat as he addresses his adopted sister.

“Cass! What’s up?”

“Dinner.” She smiles back, signing that Alfred wanted them to the dinning room post haste. The main dining room, because rich people were fruit loops and Batman is totally included. Cassandra looks down and gasps.

What…?

Oh. Fuck. Danny glances down. He genuinely forgot about that.

“Huh.”

“Okay?” Suddenly, Cass is right next to him, hand reached out and hovering over the actual knife Danny forgot was sticking out of him. At least it’s where his liver should be, so he won’t have to pretend.

“Oh. Yeah, I’m good. Don’t have a liver.” Danny decides on the spot that he’s not gonna mess with Cass. She smiled the same as him. “Got mugged on the way back but I think they said I could keep the knife, right?”

“Danny.” She’s frowning at him. He feels like he just kicked tiny Cujo. But he doesn’t feel bad enough to blurt everything out.

“Here. You can have it if you want?” Danny casually pulls out the knife and holds the wound together with his bare hands. Cass looks more alarmed. She bodily picks up Danny and starts running.

“Woah!”

Cass throws him at Alfred, gently.

“Miss Cassandra! Why, I never-!” Alfred pauses in surprise.

“Uh. Wow, Cass. You’re really strong.” Danny pipes up, hand still over his gushing wound.

She ignores him, pointing at Danny and telling Alfred, “Hurt. Got mugged. Dumb.”

“Hey! It’s not my fault Gothamites are ready to jump people at any moment. Besides, it’s daytime. It’s not like the vigilante furries are out to save my butt. I think I did really well coming back safe, you know?”

“Hurt. Forgot the knife. Was in him.”

“Master Danny!”

Danny pouts. He also knows there’s a discreet camera in the corners of the sitting room, so he’s definitely hoping he could phase into the cave when Barbara eventually tells the group that he called them “vigilante furries.”

Alfred clucks his tongue and set to work patching him up. Danny tries not to bask in the careful way Alfred tended to his wounds. It reminds him too much of Jazz, if Jazz was British and a man with greying hair.

But because they were watching him and he was watching them in return, Danny noticed the moment Alfred’s hands stalled and Cass’ gaze got intense. What now…?

Oh, fuck, his vivisection scar. Oops. Danny smiled, channeling Dani (his lovely clone sister) at her most innocent.

Cass smiled back, just as sunnily, fists tightening at her side in repressed fury.

——

“Cass? Why’d you call us?”

“Yeah, baby bat. I got a couple o’ smugglers to talk to.”

Cass paces.

“What is it, Cassandra?” Damian tuts impatiently.

“Danny. Has… scars. Autopsy. But was struggling. When cut.”

“What.”

“A vivisection, Master Jason.” Alfred’s voice was crisp and eerily cold. His hands are folded, rage only held back by his sheer will and a well practiced sense of propriety.

“We find. Who hurt him,” Cass snarls. “We. End.”

Jason’s eyes glint green, hands going to his guns. “Fine. By. Me.”

“It does tie in with the dead comment. I wonder what happened to him.” Tim clacks away at the bat computer, furiously looking into the matter already. Bruce has taken to prowling, stressed out at the prospect of one more of his children- not a vigilante at that- getting hurt the way Jason had. Worse, even. A vivisection. He was alive, dissected. Aware enough to struggle. Dick looked like he was torn about hunting down and lunging at whoever hurt Danny to rip their throats out with his bare teeth versus the urge to go back up to the manor and wrap Danny in bubble wrap.

In the corner, Danny was having a quiet breakdown because he came here to watch them react to vigilante furries, not offering to murder the people who vivisected him. What the fuck?? He ran his hands through his hair, invisible.

——

“Oh, by the way, we should consider more daytime shifts.”

“Why?” Spoiler asks Barbara.

“Danny got mugged. And called us the nightly furries.”

“The fuckin’ what-?” Jason chokes out, laughing. Bruce stops his pacing, body language becoming slightly offended.

Danny muffles a laugh only Alfred would have heard.

[cannibalisticskittles]

with baldur's gate 3's full release date looming (two months from now lmao but still so fucking jazzed) i've been thinking about what amity would've been doing moments before being sucked into a giant living mindflayer spaceship

i think no matter what she would've been somewhere in baldur's gate -- which, despite being her home city, isn't actually very typical of her. she's spent maybe 30% of her life in the city proper, with all the traveling along the caravan routes she's done, and that was mostly when she was itty bitty and then tapered off when she got older

but i think that at a certain point, she'd take over as head of the family business from her father, after he finds he doesn't have much time for his experiments and being on the council and running the business, and he's certainly not going to spend less time with his research. i like to think she acquired the former house of the Big Bad they faced down and has been turning it into a hub for the business -- a more formal place for people to go to request services, and all those fancy rooms can be turned into free places to stay for employees who are between assignments, and all sorts of other benefits.

anyway baldur's gate already has official teleportation circles, but you can make your own with the right spell, and she did acquire that on her journeys. but to establish a permanent teleportation circle, you have to cast the spell every day for a full year in the spot you want it. so she's been staying put in baldur's gate while she gets this set up, bc having a way to get people to the hub directly has a lot of benefits.

then there's the question of how dramatic to make it, lmao

the more likely and more mundane explanation for what she's up to just prior to being squidnapped is that she's preparing to set off on another adventure as the teleportation circle has now been established and things at the hub seem set up enough that she can leave it in someone else's hands

the more dramatic answer is that maybe over the course of that year, she got herself caught up in bluebeard-like shenanigans -- just because she has to stay in the city for a year doesn't mean she's all that confined, since the city is big as hell, and she does like to wander. she stumbles across some fallen belonging and bam, now she's haunted by the ghost of someone who was married and then murdered for her money, and she wants amity to get revenge for her which quickly turns into 'marry and then murder that guy so that all of his possessions which used to belong to me and his other victims will be yours and you can give him to our families' which leads to amity getting squidnapped at the altar as she's prepared to do some light murdering

like i said, the more mundane explanation is, uh, less ridiculous lmao. but it's fun to muse.

[ddejavvu]

wait your new hotch blurb got me thinking what about they got secretly married and everyone knows that hotch is married they just don’t know it’s to bau!reader because he seemed very genuine in the wanting privacy so (after complaining) they respected that, and maybe one of the team members sees hotch and bau!reader kissing in the hallway of a hotel or something and confront him about cheating on his wife

"How could you cheat on your wife?"

Penelope's harsh, degrading accusation hits Aaron directly in the chest, through the layers of stoicism that he's come to forge over the years of working in criminal investigation and straight to his heart.

All Hotch can manage is a, "What?", and Penelope's eyes dim further.

"Don't do that, Hotch. I saw you. I saw you and Y/N kissing in your office. How could you do that to your wife?"

She looks so crestfallen that Aaron's chest actually aches, so unprepared to see the famously bubbly Penelope Garcia close to tears. Close to tears because of him, no less.

Aaron might have chosen his words more carefully if he hadn't been so startled by Penelope's unusual devastation, but his jumbled brain forgoes its job and his mouth takes over, uttering the thoughtless statement, "That's- that's what she's there for."

And in his mind, it's true, if not the complete truth. You are there for him to kiss, you're there to be kissed and loved and appreciated and cherished, but he's momentarily forgotten that Penelope doesn't know that you and his mystery wife are the same person, and his words so easily warp into possessiveness and disregard.

Her face contorts into a mixture of disgust and rage that could take out a serial killer, and he seriously considers recruiting her as Chief Lecturer of the BAU, "Hotch? How- how could you say that? That your wife is just- just some thing to wait on you while you run off with someone else? You- Aaron, I can't believe you, I thought you were better than that!"

She tries storming away, tears budding in her eyes but Aaron catches her elbow, ignoring the way she flails and squirms at his touch.

"Let go of me!" She tearily demands, but he grabs her by the other arm now, holding both of her shoulders.

"No, Penelope, listen-" He tries, reminding himself to send her to Derek later for a self-defense lesson, because the weak shoves that she's pushing at his chest with do very little.

"No! No, I'm tired of listening to men," She shrieks, "You were supposed to be better than that, Aaron! I trusted you, you were supposed to be the kind of man that I could admire, and- but you're not! You're just like the rest of them, you're some egotistical, possessive, heavy-handed, domineering son of a-!"

"Y/N is my wife." Aaron cuts her off, his voice slightly raised, but not harsh. Never harsh, not to the sniffling mess of ruffles and glitter in his arms that handed him her resume on pink stationary all those years ago.

She falls silent, finally, but her lips still tremble. Aaron squeezes her arms tighter, not rough but comforting, "Y/N is my wife. We married privately late last year. We kept it secret for safety reasons, but I'll admit we didn't need to hide it from all of you. I was not cheating on my wife, I would never-" He thinks momentarily of Haley, of the gut-wrenching sound of her cell phone ringing with a call she wasn't brave enough to answer in front of him, "I would never do that to Y/N."

It's a lot of new information to process, and Aaron grants Penelope all the time she needs to work through it. When her red-stained lips part again she breathes, "You married Y/N?"

"I did." Aaron nods, and though it's not the time to smile, he can't help that a ghostly one flits over his features at the mere thought of the day he'd married you, "I'll show you pictures when we're done here. Penelope, you can trust me. I don't blame you for accusing me- in fact, I'm glad that you did. I'm glad that your loyalty isn't blind. But Y/N is my wife, and that's why I kissed her."

A very wobbly, "Oh." Is all that Penelope can manage, and she sniffles again, staring at his tie rather than his face as he holds her steady in the hallway. He's glad that they've both shown up early for the day, but you're due to return with coffee for the three of you any minute now, and he offers her his pocket square to wipe beneath her eyes.

"You said-" She chokes out sheepishly, voice unsteady as she smears the tears off of her cheeks, "You said you have pictures?"

That's how you find them when you return, seated on the couch in his office peering down at his phone. You have to set the tray you'd been carrying down on Aaron's desktop before you can properly greet either of them, but you're immediately alarmed by the tears streaked over Garcia's cheeks when she stands to face you.

"You-" She starts, not giving you a second to speak, "-are a rat! You got married," She gushes, and Aaron chuckles deeply from beside her, standing and pocketing his phone.

"You got married to our boss, and you told me nothing," She hisses, but slumps so easily into your chest for a hug that you're more than willing to give her.

"I'm sorry, Penny," You gush, squeezing her tight, "We just- we were worried about safety. The more people we told, the more dangerous it would become, so we didn't share it with anyone. But- but we should have told the team, I know."

She sniffles and you draw back to pick up her drink from behind you, sugary and pink and topped with a thick layer of whipped cream, "I got you a drink. Forgive me?"

"Reluctantly," She tries scowling, but she's never been very good at it. She takes the drink from you huffily, jamming the straw inside and taking a drag at the thick liquid. It's barely nine in the morning, far too early for the concoction she's sipping, but she nods after she draws back from the straw.

"This is delicious," She decides, "And you two are traitors, and I'm telling everyone about this."

"You should," Aaron laughs, stepping up behind you to press his shoulder to your own. It's comforting just having him there, and you relax against him as Penelope takes her leave.

"I mean it," She warns, wiping another stray tear from her cheek and sipping at her strawberry drink, "I'm telling everyone. I'm- I'm gonna hire some guy to fly a plane over the city, and the banner is gonna say, 'Y//N Y/L/N and Aaron Hotchner got married without me'."

"That's fair," You nod, not bothering to bite back a grin as she lingers in the doorway of Aaron's office.

"And so help me god," She narrows her eyes at you, once more falling just short of intimidating, "If you try to take some extended-sick-leave time, and I find out you're hiding a pregnancy from me? No amount of frappuccinos in the world will make up for it!"

"Noted," You call out as she leaves, and Aaron's hand comes up to press against the near-indiscernible bulge of your belly before the door even clicks shut.

"She's good." Aaron observes, and you reach for your own non-caffeinated drink with a grin that's hard to drink through.

"Let's tell her about the baby at lunch," You propose, "I think she's more than earned a secret to keep."

[emacrow]

Selina adopt a new stray.. well almost ghostly cat like stray.

Selina had just finished her heist to steal some valuables cat related jewelry, even though their weren't very high in valuable, she just wanted them as a decoration.

Only to hear the most desperate yowl of a cat above between the alley that she was about to leap over.

Only to see a tiny meta cat like toddler all caught and tangled up in a gothams clotheslines screaming bloody murder was happening upon him. His desperate yowling and frantic moving getting more tangled up then isn't helping was going to alert either batman or his robin spawns any minute if she didn't do something.

So she caught the clotheslines string and caught the kid whom immediately froze upon being held. The toddler look like a batman's adopt-bait except for the white cat ears, glowing cat-like eyes, whiskers and white two tail?

Yea.. she keeping him after she untangled him.

By the time she got him with her newest stray without actually alerting any bats was surprising. She have to come up with a name after she bathe him and feed him because he is much lighter then a normal toddler should be..

Once he was clean (ignoring the multiple scars, precision cuts and v line on his tiny chest until she get her phone for photo evidences later), and clothed, she temporarily put him in a box for just 5 minutes so she can fixed him up a temporarily bed next to her bed using the numerous amount of soft pillows she have.

Only for the blood curdling scream to be heard a she panicking ran back to the living room only to see the kid stop when she noticed she was in his sight.

OH, oh no, his isn't orange cat dumb..

She decided to do a little test which was pull up the a random spare blanket from her living room, lift it up to not show her body and drop it as she seemingly disappeared.

Blood curding yowling began once more.

Yep. He is dumber then orange cat dumb..

She brought the box in her room as she fixed him up a nice temporarily bed. She brought him to her kitchen for meal time. Checking his mouth to see those pearly white teeths and fangs.

Damn she didn't had much groceries beside a couple eggs, a soda can, red strawberry wine for girls night, salmon dish she was planning to eat later, and the half eaten bread loaf she brought 3 days ago..

Selina smiled a bit as she sip her soda watching her new kid nommed the pieces of salmon that she cut up into bit size pieces. Listening to softest loud purr coming from him was music to her ears..

Part 2

[swiggity-swexual-i-am-asexual]

(Do as you will with this, like switching who gets what etc etc. I don’t think this Quite answers the question, but maybe some of the set up? For it? Idk it’s almost 2 am I should be Asleep lol.)

They think she’s harmless.

Phantom knows she is not.

And, okay, so it was perhaps a bit underhanded to trick the boy, but she’s under the firm understanding that not only did he want to be tricked, he was meant to be tricked. After all, no one sane wanted the crown.

Lady Gotham was not exactly sane. And she wanted the crown. Just like everyone in her city wants. It wants and it wants and it wants.

It’s not like Phantom is just letting her galavant about either. The way Lady Gotham sees it, he had something of a plan about this from the beginning. He did not protest as she declared that she wanted a new Fright Night. That he would hold the title until she found her own court. Didn’t argue when she had him run around collecting artifacts of power and tomes upon tombs upon monuments upon obelisks of information from the living and dead and not-quite-either. And she paid him back for his troubles, well learned about the value of not owing debt. Ghosts didn’t bother his little town nearly so much, and she even paid him in gold and rarities for his services. In due time, she’d even tell him how to nurture that city-spirit-tie he’d begun to form, but not yet. Too soon, too fragile, and Phantom was still yet too alive to understand that the attachment to humans, the heartbreak of outliving them, was the nature of ghosts like them.

Phantom complained at length about just how often he kept running into John Constantine and a… Raven? Or some other bird. Not one of Lady Gotham’s flock, so not her problem. And sure, okay, she is supposed to be bringing order back to the realms or what have you. The fractured place fit her current fractured image perfectly as is, no adjustments needed.

But, and this is important- what she wanted wasn’t necessarily the crown. She wanted the investment. So much like her citizens, or her citizens were so much like her, there was ALWAYS another angle.

It’s simple. She, nearly mirror to the Infinite Realms that the fractured glass feeling of the title felt like slipping on a glove, needed healing. No one wanted to heal Lady Gotham, proud and prideful and snarling as her stone wings chipped and ground against themselves as she moved. But, there was some interest in healing the one who held the fate of the Realms in clawed hands.

Her curses acted as shields while she found ways to mend, and her status as a living city meant that stubborn heroes would come to her aid whether she deserved it or not.

Such as Phantom, holding the Soul Shredder at his hip, the Amulet of Aragorn around his neck, shards of a crystal staff and the containers of the Ring of Rage and the Crown of Fire. It’s not like she needed either, she wasn’t as insecure in her power as someone like Pariah Dark or that strange vampire creature Phantom had fought at least a few times now. He also had a few other artifacts, such as yet another ring and the scraps of a gauntlet now turned into a small arm brace. He looked pleased, probably. Lady Gotham isn’t too sure anymore. It was a sort of grimace, which is what she looked like when she smiled.

He was nearly done with his current duties, at least. All he had to do was go to her flock, present the items to the correct bird or bat, and explain the mystical magical dread that they now needed to clean up, on behest of Lady Gotham. Even if they refused now, she’d just wait for them to become one of her subjects. By all means, she’d delay it, because she did love her knights. But she had use of them, and they already did so well to keep her from dissolving into total tar and despair and darkness.

To her oldest knight, the sword that shows the worst fears to whomever is struck down, a power he’d seen used to the unfortunate worst and devastating amount of its ability.

To her oldest bird that tried to leave the nest, the crown that responded most powerfully to the strongest emotions, an ability that would test his control over his emotions that he oftentimes masked.

To the one whose wings got clipped but learned to fly anyways, a ring that once allowed a dragon princess to hide in plain sight, a role that she had long since adapted to.

To the one that was almost in her grasp now, a skeleton key to unlock anything in the city, even as he locked himself away more often than not.

To the one who found her flock lacking, who forced his way in and made his place there, the amulet to let him fly higher than ever if he could bring himself out of the shadows long enough to do so.

To her bird that defied her father, she gifts the ring to heighten emotion, to bring out the parts of her she files behind such cheerful chirps.

To the youngest of the birds, she gives the crystal shards, allowing him to control others fates in a way he himself would loathe, either to have done to him or to do upon others now that he has been under his father’s wing.

And to the one that holds power within himself, the brace that is useless on its own, one that works only when given power higher than he himself thinks he wields.

“Keep an eye on them, would you? Even afterwards?” Lady Gotham told Phantom, her voice like a death rattle between headstones, but also the light at the end of an alleyway.

“Sure,” Phantom said, shrugging one shoulder. “Maybe I can get Batman to help with this book report while I’m out. Think he’s read The Great Gatsby?”

“Perhaps so,” she rumbled.

Phantom hummed. “Good enough for me.”

And he was off. And Lady Gotham smiled.

It was a bit less of a grimace than she remembered it being.

Lady Gotham: Ghost King

...so I've fallen down the DP x DC rabbithole (I fell down ages ago). I've seen a lot of fics that personify Gotham. Lady Gotham and Danny interact in these stories in various ways. There are a lot of Ghost King Danny stories in this fandom.

I had a thought. What if Lady Gotham fought Danny at a weak point, or maybe caught him by surprise (since in these stories she's usually pretty weak), and she became Ghost King? Of course she could also be really powerful, but anyone fighting the Ghost King would run into trouble so I feel like it would take special circumstances for her to defeat Danny. What would her kingship do to Gotham (the city)? What would that do to the Realms?

Just a thought.

[kat-in-a-trashcan]

Meet our beauty and the beast (tap for better quality)

Edit: btw Edwin’s ghost design is inspired by @hannaloony’s final ghost form dbd AU. Her art is great pls go check her out!

lore below

Edwin/Curse lore:

• shorty before he was cursed both his parents passed, leaving him orphaned at 18

• One day and Evil witch Esther visits the castle and due to Edwin being a cunt (very in character) she cursed him and the castle inhabitants, leaving Edwin as a pale ghostly shell of his past self. The curse can only be broken if he can find true love.

• He is haunted by many horrors, such as the vast doll head spider, but for now it is trapped in the castle dungeon. Will it escape? Who can say….

•Edwin can’t see his reflection as part of the curse. Him blaming himself for the curse combined with his bitchy attitude, he has convinced himself that he is a monster and that no one could ever love him. The whole liking boys thing doesn’t help either.

•Before Edwin was able to lock the doll spider in the dungeon, it wreaked havoc around the castle, including tearing up many painting. This combined with no reflection, Edwin had no memory of what he looks like. In general all the people trapped in the castle have very foggy memory’s of their past.

• Him and the Castle inhabitants have been cursed for 70 years. They are all frozen in time so they haven’t physically aged. Im not adding the whole rose time limit thing.

Charles Lore:

•Charles lived in a small village with his mother and father

• Charles is know as the most beautiful person in town, but his dad is still a horrible person. The whole town knows but they don’t do anything.

•On the night of his 18th birthday, he runs away from home to find freedom. After a few nights of traveling through the forest he finds what looks like a abandoned castle and decided to say there for the night, only to find many strange things… and people…

(Thx @dear-writers for some of the story inspiration)

[novaursa]

Could I request a little tidbit of the velaryon bride where reader is having a bath and invites cregan to join but it’s too hot for him, but doesn’t want to disappoint her (and maybe because he doesn’t want to admit to himself he can’t take it) and joins her anyway. Maybe something cute and lovey and could potentially lead to a steamy bath session, but just before it gets steamy, cregan interrupts as the bath water is too hot due to readers Targaryen blood.

Valyrian Bride (dragon's bath)

- Summary: You invite Cregan to join you in a warm bath.

- Paring: velaryon!reader/Cregan Stark

- Note: The reader is daughter of Rhaenyra.

- Rating: Mature 16+

- Previous part: dragon eggs

- Next part: nameday

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround @daeryna @melsunshine @21-princess @ferakillia

The chambers of Winterfell were filled with the heady scent of lavender and rose oil, mingling with the thick steam that wafted from the bathing tub in the center of the room. It was a large, deep tub, carved from dark stone and filled almost to the brim with water that verged on scalding. Cregan Stark paused just inside the doorway, his breath catching as the heat hit him like a wall. Even from across the room, he could see the steam rising in thick, swirling tendrils.

His wife lounged in the water, her head resting against the rim of the tub, her silver-gold hair damp and clinging to her shoulders. The heat had brought a faint flush to her cheeks, making her skin glow with a warmth that seemed to radiate from her very being. She looked every inch the dragon-blooded beauty she was, and Cregan, despite the intense heat, felt his pulse quicken.

She turned her head as he entered, a slow smile spreading across her lips. “There you are, my wolf,” she murmured, her voice a low, inviting purr. “Come to join me?”

Cregan cleared his throat, his eyes sweeping over her, taking in the languid grace with which she stretched out her arms, the way the water lapped gently against her skin. “I… wasn’t planning on it,” he admitted, though the sight of her made him seriously reconsider his plans for the evening.

She raised an eyebrow, amusement dancing in her violet eyes. “Not planning to? I’m hurt.” She lifted a hand, gesturing lazily to the empty space beside her. “There’s more than enough room for you. Unless, of course, you’re afraid of a little heat?”

He gave her a wry look, but there was no denying the challenge in her eyes. “You call this a little heat? It’s like the godsdamned forges of the blacksmith.”

Her laughter was soft, echoing through the steam-filled room. “Oh, come now. It’s not that bad. Besides, I think you can handle it. Or have all these years in the North made you forget how to endure a little fire?”

Cregan grumbled under his breath but began to strip off his heavy furs and clothes. “Fine, but if I come out boiled alive, I’ll be haunting you.”

“I’ll take my chances,” she said, her smile widening as she watched him disrobe. “Besides, a ghostly wolf might be a nice change of pace around here.”

As he moved closer to the tub, Cregan felt the heat intensify, the air itself seeming to shimmer with it. He hesitated for just a moment, then gritted his teeth and stepped into the water, lowering himself gingerly into the steaming bath. It was a testament to his stubbornness—and perhaps a touch of insanity—that he didn’t immediately leap back out.

“Seven hells,” he muttered through clenched teeth, his skin prickling as if he’d stepped into a cauldron. “Y/N, this is hotter than Vaetrix’s breath.”

His wife laughed again, the sound rich and full of affection. “It’s just right for me.” She moved closer, her wet skin glistening in the dim light, and slid her arms around his neck. “But I appreciate your bravery, my lord.”

Cregan tried to relax, though it was hard when he felt like a stew being slowly brought to a boil. Still, the feel of her body pressed against his, the way her fingers trailed along his shoulders, made the discomfort almost worth it. Almost.

She leaned in, brushing her lips against his jaw, her voice a soft murmur. “You’re tense. Let me help with that.”

He turned his head, catching her lips with his, and for a moment, the heat of the water was forgotten as he lost himself in the warmth of her kiss. Her mouth moved against his with a tenderness that made his chest ache, and he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer.

She shifted in his lap, her hands sliding down his chest, her touch light and teasing. “See?” she whispered, her breath hot against his ear. “Isn’t this better?”

He let out a low growl, nipping at her lower lip. “It would be, if I wasn’t slowly cooking.”

She laughed, the sound bubbling up like the water around them, and kissed him again, deeper this time. Her fingers tangled in his hair, tugging him closer, and he found himself responding, his hands roaming over her back, feeling the smooth curve of her spine.

The heat, the closeness, her soft sighs—it was all intoxicating, pulling him under in a way that had nothing to do with the steaming water. She shifted again, pressing herself more firmly against him, her breath hitching as her movements became more insistent.

But as the temperature of both the water and their shared passion rose, Cregan felt a very real and very unromantic panic begin to build. He could handle battle, blood, and the bitterest of northern winds, but this? This was too much.

He pulled back, his breath coming in short, ragged bursts. “Wait, wait—hold on,” he said, his voice strained. “I need to—”

She looked at him, her eyes dark with desire and a hint of confusion. “What is it?”

“I need to get out,” he managed, his tone halfway between an apology and desperation. “I’m going to pass out from the heat.”

For a moment, she stared at him, and then, to his utter dismay, she burst out laughing. The sound was pure, unrestrained, and filled with such genuine amusement that he couldn’t even pretend to be offended. She leaned back, her shoulders shaking with mirth as she looked at him.

“Oh, Cregan,” she said, her voice still thick with laughter. “You poor wolf.”

He grumbled something unintelligible but carefully extricated himself from her embrace and stood, water dripping off his body as he climbed out of the tub. The air felt blessedly cool against his skin, and he took several deep breaths, trying to get his bearings.

Behind him, his wife was still laughing softly, her eyes sparkling as she watched him. “I should have known better than to put a Northerner in a dragon’s bath.”

Cregan grabbed a towel and began to dry off, his movements a little less graceful than usual. “I think I prefer the snows of the godswood to whatever molten lake that is.”

She smiled, her expression softening as she leaned against the edge of the tub, her chin resting on her folded arms. “I’m sorry, love. I forget, sometimes, how different we are. The fire in me, the cold in you.”

He shook his head, his heart warming at her words, despite the chill now settling in his bones. “We’ve always been different. That’s what makes it work.”

She looked at him, her eyes filled with a warmth that had nothing to do with the water. “I wouldn’t change a thing about you.”

He smirked, draping the towel around his waist and leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead. “Not even my aversion to your fiery baths?”

She grinned, her fingers tracing a light pattern on his arm. “Not even that. It just means more for me.”

He chuckled, shaking his head as he sat on the edge of the tub, close enough to feel her warmth but far enough to keep from melting. “You’re impossible.”

“And you love me for it.”

“Aye,” he said softly, his eyes meeting hers, his voice filled with sincerity. “That I do.”

She reached out, her hand slipping into his, squeezing gently. “We’ll find a middle ground, my wolf.”

He nodded, leaning in to kiss her softly, their breaths mingling in the steam-filled air. “We always do.”

And as they sat there, hand in hand, the warmth of the fire between them, Cregan knew that no matter how hot or cold life became, they would always find a way to balance each other out—fire and ice, wolf and dragon, husband and wife.