#I hate the mirror

[greenisgay]

The intense hated I have for my past actions has now turned into hating the way I look

[pocket-notebook]

...

[sleepy-grav3]

Amity Park hates the Justice League but loves Red Hood and sometimes other heroes

A/n: I got this random idea so here it is. Oh, and this is good reveal AU ok?

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Due to the Justice League mocking them and ignoring their villain problems that were also publicly interdimensional problems, everyone hates the JL. It got worst with the GIW coming in, who blatantly went against the meta-laws (which included aliens, demons and so much more that weren't human from the beginning). They started to think the Justice League supported them.

In the Infinite Realms, however, there's a revenant that many adored and others respected. He did not hold back against criminals. Criminals that would rape, kill, traffic, sell drugs, and more to people. He especially didn't like when they brought kids into this. He'd avenge people the way they should've been: by promising that their abuser/killer/whatever wouldn't be able to do it again. And in the place they lived in, the only way for that to be possible was by major injury, heavy social outcasting, and/or death. Most prefer the 3rd.

And after how long the Amitians dealt with the attacks which eventually came to a slow once or twice a week type thing, they started opening their minds to the idea of coexistence. Well, further than they had. So when people started to cross over and start making their small haunts in their side of the veil, the Amitian's began to become aware of the popular hero Red Hood. He was part of the undead community, which was trustworthy in everyone's books.

So Amity Park started making merch. Most of it was for Team Phantom, but there was plenty for Red Hood as well. There were other heroes on the side, like for Superboy 1 (who they renamed to Supernova due to their hatred for Superman for 2 reasons, the obvious and that he rejected a mirror-born), and Raven (the half demon).

And with this coexistence, Team Phantom had noticed the positive feedback about killing in the name of vengeance. So they went on the offensive, and after a good year of that, the GIW lost funding for producing no results and just taking up resources. The acts were still there, but nobody enacted them in Amity, and nobody actually knew or believed them outside of the haunted city.

Then the Justice League find out about the hero group there due to tracking merchandise after they started to sell outside of the city. Superman was the guy everyone liked, so he was sent over. He immediately got thrown out and was now questioning who the heck Supernova was and when he rejected him.

Flash? Outcast. Everyone ignored and walked away from him. they had the police, who never did anything or even had to anymore, kick him out.

Green Lanter? Oh the poor guy. He had his ring taken away and thrown out of the city somehow. It took hours to find it.

Wonder Woman, they had to be ok with her. Not at first, but once Phantom had a talk with her and people learned that they were cousins through Clockwork (Kronos) and Pandora, they were ok. ish. Tolerated was the best word and she got the info back to the league.

The batfamily took a trip there, dragging Red Hood along somehow. And right when Red Hood was noticed, a crowd began to form as everyone practically worshipped him. There were many victims he had avenged and an Ancient (Lady Gotham) came and gave him the gifts she couldn't without scaring the guy.

At one point, the poor guy even cried.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

The girls are here!!!

[hahahalfwit]

I HATE MIRROR MIRROR IM GOIGN TO FROW UP

[someiicecube]

messing around; Solstars outfits !

—feat. Barbatos, the no. 1 Solomon hater

[stark-lord]

The Monty Eyebrow™️

for @purgatory606

[vampyfrnk]

happy birthday ray toro! - july 15th, 1977

[lesbiamano]

i drew a second outfit design for sumi wayyyy back so now i've decided to redraw it and make it better! and also, i chopped her hair off! now THATS what i call character development

[veinsfullofstars]

"Still trying to intimidate me? Cute."

(ID: Kirby series fanart of Meta Knight and Galacta Knight based off of a couple dynamics template by @/ReddsMess on Twitter. Original template and source below the cut, as well as a HAL language variant. Top-left panel - high-angle shot of MK lit from above, standing firm and glaring up through his mask, his wings curled out and breaching the panel in places, subtitled "Well well..." Top-right panel - low-angle shot of GK lit from below, looming in the air and leering down through his mask, his wings curled out and his hands spread wide in challenge, both of which breach the panel in places, subtitled "Look who came to see me..." Bottom panel - MK & GK stand next to each other, the latter leaning towards the former and gently caressing the side of his mask with the back of one hand, grinning smugly and wrapping a wing around the knight, subtitled "My Knightmare." MK stands stiffly with his fists clenched at his sides, blushing vividly and glaring away from the warrior. A little flurry of white hearts emanate from GK, while one small one hovers above MK. END ID.)

Started 03/30/24, finished 04/02/24.

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HAL language variant:

Original by ReddsMess (template link) NOTE: The artist has marked 16-18+ in their bio, so browse at your own risk!

[zzz1gzag]

"few others use the ink he does, so it was instantly recognisable"

[constarlations]

🍊 Big Sis Nemona 🍊

my favorite Unovan/Latina Pokémon trainer ever created

Twitter Link

[najuwu]

🚨 ATENTION 🚨 WEE WOO WEE WOO 🚨 NEW POSUKA ART FOR RAY’S BIRTHDAY 🚨

GOD BLESS THIS BEAUTIFUL DAY. HAPPY BIRTHDAY RAY!!!!!!! 💜💜💜

Link to Posuka’s Twitter post with the art

[catwyk]

huh. there's something on my face

[starry-bi-sky]

What's a scarier thing to say than 'I love you?' - DPXDC Stillborn Au Ficlet

Danny doesn't believe in the words "I love you".

People always say it's one of the scariest things people can say to another, because it lays them bare in front of the one they say it to, revealing their vulnerabilities and true thoughts and feelings to the world like an open wound. Telling someone you love them is the bravest thing you can do.

He thinks it's a load of bullshit. He's had two of his foster parents tell him they loved him, only to turn around and stab him in the back days, weeks, months, minutes later. Anyone can say they love you with nothing more than a sweet smile and a dagger hidden behind their spines. 'I love you' is an empty phrase, one that makes his heart beat unpleasantly in his chest and his palms sweat as he waits for the other shoe to drop.

'I love you' is a ploy. A plot. A lie. It's a coward's way out. If someone loves him, he wants them to show it, not say it. Because if 'I love you' is such a scary thing to say, it should be easier to show it in their hands, in their actions.

Wanna know what he thinks is the scariest thing in the world to say? What most people hem and haw and try and avoid? Try and deny, deny, deny?

The words, 'I hate you'.

There, that's the scariest thing in the world to say. Everybody can say 'I love you' and say they mean it, he's found that nobody wants to say 'I hate you' and say they mean it. That's a phrase everyone gets uncomfortable with, that everyone doesn't want to believe no matter how much you insist it.

Danny wonders a lot about why that is. Why everyone can love everyone, but nobody can hate anybody.

He thinks it's because hate can be personal in a way that's too similar to love. You can hate in a lot of ways, just like you can love a lot of ways. But in order to hate someone, really hate someone, in a way that's not far off and distant like distaste, but truly personal, burning and all-consuming loathing, you need to care about them in some way.

To hate someone implies an investment in their well-being in a way that mirrors love. It indicates a level of importance that person holds in your life that exceeds beyond simple indifference or disgust (an emotion easily mistaken for hatred despite its fleetingness).

To hate someone and to say you hate someone means that the thought of them fills you with a fire that carves into the marrow of your bones. That you think of them, even if it's not in a good way. To hate you need passion. To love you need passion.

To look someone in the eyes and say you hate them, and truly, really mean it, that is something that takes courage. That is something that requires you to lay your soul bare and reveal your vulnerabilities like an open wound.

But he supposes he can understand the confusion.

Hate and Love are not opposites after all, they're siamese twins.

Nobody ever wants to say they hate someone. Everyone wants to say they love somebody.

He wishes his foster parents had just said outright they had hated him, he wishes they hadn't strung him along with calorie-less love. He wishes they had just left him alone rather than sat him on the rug they were gonna pull out from under his feet. The ones who said they loved him hurt worse than the ones that never said it at all.

At least the people who said they hate him are honest about it.

What was he doing again?

He curls tighter into himself, his arms squeezing around his legs as burning magma flow spills over his shoulders and cocoons him away from the chill of the living. Danny's hair had broken out of its braid some time ago, and he'd burned off the excess lava and thrown it to the side to get it off his back, but it never takes long to grow back longer.

It's fine, it's fine. It's letting him hide.

Danny's not sure how long he sits there, stewing in his own heat and hurt, but it's long enough that he forgets why he's even there in the first place. It's long enough that the terrified fury lashing out in his core like a solar flare cools and settles, and then forgets why it was even lashing out at all.

It's long enough that he falls asleep.

Long enough that when he wakes up, it's to the feeling of a hand pushing away his hair like one pushes back a curtain in order to peer at the sunrise behind it. Fingers, sharp, clawed, brush over the bridge of his nose and his cheek in order to tuck the magma out of his face.

There's only one person capable of touching his hair -- made of magma and always burning, reflecting his own feelings, untouchable to the living -- without melting their hand right off. Danny peeks open his bleary, tear-sore eyes, and sees Vlad Masters, as Plasmius, kneeling through his lashes.

He's too exhausted to be angry at his appearance. Danny goes to say something -- to ask why he's here, why he's bothering him -- and all it comes out as is incoherent grumbling. Plasmius breathes out through his nose, a soft little sighing sound that follows with a smile shadowing over his mouth.

It's terribly fond, it's terribly foreign, and it sparks terror in Danny's heart.

(Sam compared him once to a traumatized alley cat, she wasn't that far off from it.)

"There you are." Plasmius says, voice terribly soft and just the slightest bit chiding. He brushes more of Danny's hair out of the way, thumb brushing over his brow bone, affection that he acts as if it's so easy to give. As if it’s so easy to extend to him, like he deserves it. Affection that Danny is so horribly starved for that the feeling makes him both nauseous and ravenous. "Your little friends were worried about you. When they couldn't find you, they called me."

Again goes unsaid and un-lingering, but it still pierces guilt through Danny like a shot to the head. It's not the first time this has happened, and he doubts it will ever be the last. He squeezes his eyes shut in shame, and ducks his head down into his knees like a scolded child.

Apologies come easy, like an automated message machine, even if it burns and thickens the back of his throat. Danny swallows the heat in his mouth and reaches for something even easier to say; "Go away."

Plasmius clucks his tongue, completely unaffected, and his hands move to gather the magma spilling over Danny's shoulders into his palms. "And leave you alone? I'm your archnemesis, little badger, I'm afraid that's not allowed."

Danny tries to glare at him even if his core swells with a feeling he can't name, a burning, gelling feeling like a bubble in a volcano about to burst. He tries again, and bares his fangs for good measure, "Fuck off."

His voice breaks, trembling like a little kid, and lacks any sincerity or bite.

Again, Plasmius just looks terrifyingly fond, if a bit exasperated, his eyes rolling despite the lack of visible iris. Danny watches from the corner of his eye as the man's hands begin to superheat against his hair, glowing bright and brighter until it would've been blinding to anyone who wasn't dead, before yanking.

The magma disconnects from his head painlessly, and his hair is short once more. Plasmius tosses the excess off to the side with the rest, and sizzling fills the room as the lava sinks into the ground.

Plasmius' hands finds his face again, tucking his hair behind his ears before pulling him forward. Danny lets him move him bonelessly, fingers curling around his cloak as he sinks into the embrace. It's embarrassing how routine it is, how easy it is for Vlad to tuck him under his chin like a child. It's mortifying how easy it is for Danny to cling onto it.

He's terribly warm, and Danny is always so fucking cold. He doesn't know how to keep all the heat he gives off, and so he's always shivering. Vlad's hand smoothes down the nape of his neck, over his spine, and not for the first time, Danny wishes he was living with him instead.

He hates that he wants to live with Vlad instead of the Fentons. He hates that he can't. He hates that Vlad is so kind to him when they're not fighting. He hates that Vlad is the only other dead-alive person in the world and Danny can't go to him like he wants to. He hates that he wants to even despite it. He hates that Vlad insists on killing his foster parents. He hates that Vlad wants to avenge him. He hates that Vlad cares enough to want to. He hates-- he hates--

Danny breathes in thick, shaking, and hides. "I hate you."

Vlad rumbles low, laughing, and rubs circles between his shoulder blades soothingly. "I hate you too, Daniel."

He hates that Vlad knows what he means instead.

[malaintentions]

Am I depressed? Or do I just need a vacation? A drink? A night out? Sleep? Dick? Head? A kiss? Cuddles? I don’t know anymore