Reblog If You’re Already Thirsty For Season 6 Content

I just had the voice from the VHS that said coming soon stuck in my head repeatedly saying coming soon this fall over and over and it couldn’t stop.

A story within a story where a mother sits her rowdy children down and tells them a story about a the world's sweetest, kindest mother who never lost her temper, never cursed and never yelled at her children, no matter how rowdy they could get. She would only gently, kindly told them to not do the dangerous things. One day she sweetly, kindly told her children to not go play at the riverbank, because it's dangerous and they might slip on the rocks, fall into the water, and die. Her children do not listen. They go play at the riverbank, where they slip on the rocks, fall into the water, and die.

And the sweet perfect mother of the story comes to the riverbank, sees that all her children drowned, and starts crying so bitterly that angels overhear her, and the angels say to each other, "she does not deserve this, this woman has never done anything wrong in her life, this should not have happened to her", and feeling great pity for her, bring her children back to life, and after that they always listened to their mother and lived happily ever after.

And the storyteller's children, who at this point are familiar with the concept that these stories are supposed to have some sort of a moral or lesson in them, interject to point out that their mother hasn't always done everything perfectly, she isn't always sweet, curses a lot, and as a matter of fact loses her shit at her kids all the time. She isn't like the mother of the story at all.

And their mother agrees: Her children are correct. She is not a perfect mother who has never done anything wrong. Angels will not have pity on her, and they will not bring her little shits back to life if they go to the river and die. So they better fucking not go get themselves killed in the first place.

Imagine if the GIW started gunning for Jason without the Batfam ever meeting Phantom. Like, Bruce has to figure out on his own that the guys in white suits with Lazarus guns are 1. a legitimate government agency, and 2. are perfectly within their rights to hunt Jason like an animal, because 3. there's secret government legislation that says that since Jason's body processes ectaplasm, he's classified as non-sapient and has no legal protections.

Bruce calling up Clark like

Bruce: I am currently in the process of breaking into a government facility in order to dismantle their operations.

Clark: Okay? Do you need... help?

Bruce: Yes.

Clark: Sure, I'll be right there.

Bruce: Not that kind of help. Oracle is sending you the files now. I'd like you and Ms. Lane to make these people wish they were never born.

Clark: [speed-reading the documents] Oh yeah, can do. This is truly disgusting. If the public is half as outraged as I am, we'll get this sorted as fast as the courts can manage.

So Clark Kent acts as a whistle-blower, the Justice League publicly condems the Anti-Ecto Acts as inhumane, the GIW is disbanded, and Batman gets pardoned for all of those crimes that he technically did by assaulting federal agents. And after all that gets sorted, some white haired kid pops up in the Watchtower like "haha thanks for that I really didn't want a war between Earth and the Infinite Realms" and the League are like "wait what"

i drew my thing: here

click on image for better resolution

Lancelot Fluff Fanfic Rec List

I decided to make a list featuring a few of my fluffy favourites for Lotor x Lance. All fics are rated Teen or General unless marked otherwise. I tagged everyone’s tumblrs that I could find.

Single Chapter:

Spa Date with a Prince by @deecherrywolf Lance is captured and held captive by the nefarious Prince Lotor. Prince Lotor can’t help but notice how amazing his prisoner’s skin looks.

It’s So Hard to Be Beautiful by @stopmeplease Lance and Lotor meet at a spa and find they have some things in common.

Of braiding hair and apology cards by @lotorn (Explicit) Lance’s long fingers thread through the soft locks gently, his nails scratching on the scalp. Lotor purrs. (okay so, not exactly fluff, but it is for this ship tbh lol)

Small Series:

Little Blue by @shiirxtakashii “Wait, are you flustered? Are you blushing?” Lance asked, leaning over to try and get a closer look at the other. “Flustered? Blushing? What are those?” Lotor asked, his head turning back, the flush still there slightly.

T'is the Season by Quillaninc (Christmas Fic) 'Why-“ Lotor drawled, sceptical ”-would you have a gift for me?“

nobody even says wooing anymore by silverliningsgirl Lance gets hit on and Shiro goes into Dad mode that’s it that’s the story.

Multichapter:

Moonflower by @noir-wing (yup, this one’s mine) (WIP) “Don’t swear at me in Galra,” Lance glared. The prince smirked, “Oh, it wasn’t an insult. If you were to translate it into your tongue… I suppose the word would be: darling.”

The Promised are Bound, Mr Gonzalez by Levis_turtles Lance makes a promise to Lotor, not realising that the promises made between Galra (or, in this case, Galra and Human) are as inescapable as they are binding.

The Flirtation Situation by Levis_turtles (WIP) Lance is in a battle against the Galra when he is approached by the commander of the galra empire, Prince Lotor.

Altean! Lance AU Drabble by @raphidae Lotor and Allura are engaged in the name of an alliance, but neither want to wed one another. So what happens when Lotor meets her younger brother? (I’m putting this in multichapter because it’s a really long drabble series so it’s basically a fic)

John Wick Chapter 4 Spoilers Without Context

“But if you forget to reblog Madame Zeroni, you and your family will be cursed for always and eternity.”

Bruce is in...an unfortunate circumstance. So is everyone else. He can honestly say he has no idea what is going on, and judging from the barely suppressed rage, confusion, and hostility, neither does anyone else at the table.

He's sitting at the head of a table in Wayne Manor, which definitely does not exist anymore and is glowing a strange green. At the table are Damian, Jason, Dick, Tim, Duke, Cass, and a random teenager he does not know.

Alfred, who has been dead for years, is serving them food that is...glowing slightly green. Just like the house.

Everyone is being courteous, and it...it seems like someone is controlling their words? Their actions as well. They can only speak in rhyme, and they are being forced to play as one big happy family.

He can see, in everyone's eyes, that no one remembers how they got here.

Even Alfred, glowing blue skin and luminescent green eyes, seems to not be in control of his actions.

The strange teen at the other end of the table is getting more and more panicked with every glowing green delicacy placed before them, muscles tensing and straining as he visibly tries to break free with brute force alone.

Bruce knows, as does everyone else at the table, that to eat those foods is...bad. He doesn't know how, exactly, but it appears that no one should eat them.

A flicker of someone, no, three someones dart past the door. One of those people wears an armored outfit, and pauses long enough to appear to do a quick assessment of the unknown teenager at the table; so another hero, or at least someone invested in keeping the boy alive. If they have enough time, they might be able to undo this.

He needs to delay.

He cannot let any one at this table, including that random boy, eat any of this food.

Whoever is doing this wants them to play as a typical family unit. He is only allowed to say or do things that would typically fall into that category.

Alfred sets down the last plate, movement stiff and jerky as he tries to do it as slowly as possible, and Bruce feels his hands stray towards the utensils on the table.

He redirects them to brace against it and stand himself up.

"A toast is required, to welcome new kin, for we never grow tired of taking them in," Bruce says, lifting a glass of...something. Green and glowing, as is everything else.

Toxic.

Thankfully, the makeshift toast seems to work; no one moves to eat the contaminated feast.

But he feels himself start to sit down again.

Jason's hands are shaking, tiny wheezes slipping past his lips as he fights against them moving back towards the fork and knife. Tim, concerningly in contrast, appears fully prepared to eat whatever this is. Even...eager?

Bruce really hopes he's reading that one wrong.

When they escape, and they will because he will not accept anything less, he really needs to have a conversation with him.

"In truth there are no secrets here, and I must divulge some I fear," Bruce almost shouts, knees popping back into a standing position so fast it triggers a spasm of pain in his back. That wasn't what he meant to say.

He can feel himself being compelled to speak the worst truth he could possible give, and instinctively fights against it.

In response to the struggling, Damian's hand reaches out, tendons flexing in full view as he fights against it, and a finger dips into what is supposed to be some sort of gravy.

He cannot be doing this.

Dick's hand gracefully snags a glowing green dinner roll, his eyes steely as it's brought towards his mouth.

He cannot.

Duke sounds like he's about to hyperventilate, fingers trembling and dropping the glowing pig-in-a-blanket, forced to pick it up every time it drops.

At the opposite end of the table, the unknown boy actually manages to let out a soft, muffled shout, jerking forward before the magic that bewitches them all forces him back into compliance.

...He must. He must, lest he not only watch his children die in front of him, again, but watch them all do it at the same time.

Bruce closes his eyes.

A hand rests on his shoulder, giving him a comforting squeeze.

The only comfort this strange residue of Alfred can give him.

"We are no mere family; we are the knights that hide in the dark, verily I do speak more gravely while chasing crime like a shark."

There are sounds of combat, things breaking and people shouting, laser pistols, or a variant thereof, firing.

The compulsion is stronger, and he knows that if he tries to resist it even a little bit, Duke, Damian, and Dick are all dead.

Damn it.

"For I am Batman, of Gotham proud, alone I began, but now have a crowd."

He is forced to sit down again, and the sounds of fighting ease off.

Damn it. Damn it! They failed!

But the boy at the head of the table stands, sweaty and desperate.

"For telling me this, I feel I must up the ante; I cannot dismiss that I'm also a vigilante. My name is Phantom, and I really love oranges....."

The boy stops talking, mouth open as whoever controls them tries to find a followup.

But.

Nothing, traditionally, rhymes with orange in such a way that it shares the last part of that word.

The air seems to stretch.

The table holds their breath.

...The air snaps.

"Not again!" Someone shouts from where the fighting was, "Stop doing that!"

Or; Ghostwriter wanted to fuck with Danny, by forcing him to play house with one of the wealthy elite and torment him with stupid rich people bullshit. He even used the lair of the ghost of their old Butler, Alfred, since it was an exact replica of Wayne Manor. Sure, if humans eat food that's made of pure ectoplasm straight from the Zone they can't ever leave it, but like, they can just stay with their butler. Ghostwriter just needs to make sure that Danny can't talk, because if the little shit talks, he'll use the orange trick again. He did not anticipate that; Bruce Wayne is Batman, Red Huntress would try to beat the snot out of him with the help of a goth and a technonerd, or that Bruce Wayne would manage to give Danny the perfect opportunity to open his big fat mouth and ruin Ghostwriter's fun.

Why am I the funniest at the buttfuck of dawn??