#ILL BE DRAWING SO MUCH OF THAT IN THE NEAR FUTURE

[chloesimaginationthings]

DEAD BY DAYLIGHT WAS FIRST IN LINE……

[avocado62524]

[xxplastic-cubexx]

hello!! i just want to tell you that your art is so goddamn scrumptious, you are literally feeding my xmen brainrot and I find myself smiling when i see your art come across my feed. I love how you draw charles, pretty privilege and post (lets be fr he's serving every time)

i hope you always have fantastic brainrot and id kiss your blessed hands for giving us the gift of cherik and charles xavier, you are literally an icon

hope you have a great day ahead of you and more!! you deserve it !!

well i'ma absolutely have a wonderful mornin after readin this AWWWW thank you so so much !!!! i haven't been postin xmen long, so it's been really heartwarmin seein the warm reception to my work in the wonderful tags people have been leavin on my posts- and especially gettin to answer the lovely asks y'all've been sendin in (❁´ ▽ `❁) !! im glad people also like my goofy text posts and esp quotes from my brother he really has no right being so funny at the most random times

i hope to be xmen posting a while: ive got at least 60 years worth of stuff to look through and ongoing, so i dont imagine my interest'll wane anytime soon :]] !!

[ask-whitepearl-and-steven]

Is shattering permanent in the comic (especially with the force fusions and cluster) or can it be fixed down the line like future did? Asking for your opinion on this too bc I found out about it in Future and it makes me feel weird (bc now it feels like any SU stuff and shattering has no consequence or tension, so haven’t been able to read or write stories). Maybe I’m seeing this wrong? Would love your thoughts

Hmm...

So to answer your first question: The comic for WDAU works on the same rules as canon does. I have no intention to over-write anything canon clearly stated to be true.

The ability to put back together shattered gems is definitely a part of that.

So yes, theoretically, even in WDAU, gems being shattered is not 'the end' because they can be eventually re-instated through the work of the diamonds, IF they someday decide to Change Their Minds like they did in the original series.

That being said...

I want to talk a little bit about something you said, because it tickles my brain in an interesting way:

"now it feels like any SU stuff and shattering has no consequence or tension"

And the best way to talk about stuff, I've found, is to ask questions about our underlying assumptions. So my questions for you (all) today are:

For us humans, death certainly IS a constant that remains ever-permanent, and thus it's easy to compare it to shattering and draw that parallel... but is that a fair comparison?

In fiction, death is often circumvented and there still remains reasonable tension in things like magic-heavy worlds, vampire novels, sci-fi where almost any sickness is eradicated, etc. Is this not quite similar to what shattering is for gems?

Is the perceived permanency of shattering the only reason it feels like a heavy consequence?

Are there OTHER consequences of being shattered that make it just as interesting, if not more than, to be explored as a plot device?

Must there be an ever-looming threat of something horrible and permanent happening to make a story good?

There isn't a right or wrong answer to these questions, necessarily. I'm not posing these in order to lead you to a singular, 'absolutely correct' conclusion or way of writing.

For some stories, death DOES need to be permanent in order not to make light of what the characters go through! In some forms of writing, there IS no other way around that consequence.

But I daresay SU is not one of those stories.

Let me put it this way - 100 years ago, medicine had only BEGUN to develop into the thing we know it as today. Sure, there were therapies and treatments for diseases, broken limbs, poisonings, etc. Some of them were quite good, even! But overall, the death tolls back then from basic illness were MUCH higher than they were today.

Pnumonia, Malaria, Syphillis, Smallpox, Bubonic Plague, AIDS.

These were things that people died from, with near CERTAINTY, for the LONGEST time. They were considered the road to a permanent black screen.

And today? Even though they are still, without proper intervention, JUST as deadly, we now have new tools and vaccines to combat them. Hell, if you get vaccinated fast enough you can get bit by a rabid dog and live to tell the tale, unscathed! Rabies used to be a one-stop-shop to the afterlife.

Despite this, we still view these diseases with appropriate fear. They are still dangerous - in the right conditions.

In the right conditions, the consequences for a LOT of things can be permanent. If permanency is what you're looking for.

So alright, the Diamonds can heal shattered gems now. Booooring. How easy it is to fix any shattered gem! What a simple solution to anything tragic.

But................... will they ALWAYS do so?

In fact...will the Diamonds ALWAYS be around?

Will the gems who got shattered always be picked up, piece by piece, and be brought back to them, perfectly preserved? Or will they lose pieces of themselves along the way - literally?

And what NEW consequences can we think of, when we stop thinking of the permanency of death, and start thinking of the Impermanence of those tools that keep us here longer and longer?

Just food for thought. 👀

[sara-roz]

!! DONT SKIP !! donations urgently needed

They are only at €66,072 out of €100,000 goal

I've donated €30, so please match me if you can and reblog with a screenshot ‼️ Let's keep going‼️

My friend Dina, Ahmed's wife, is reaching out for help to save her family and promote their campaign. Dina is 30 years old and lives in Gaza with her husband Ahmed, who is 36, and their children: Zeina (8 years old), Eileen (7 years old), Yamen (5 years old), and baby Ronza (4 months old). Imagine if it were your own family member, friend, or child who should be enjoying school or playing with friends, but instead, they are hiding from bombs and relying on the kindness of strangers to survive. This family has been suffering for more than a year due to the relentless siege and devastation. You are their only chance to find safety and hope for a better future. Please help by sharing their campaign and spreading the word.

This fundraiser has been vetted by @/el-shab-hussein and @/nabulsi - #264 on the vetted Gaza fundraiser list,

Also verified by butterflyeffect.project (# 741) & this fundraiser is vetted by @gazavetters , #213 on the spreadsheet here

(drawing above by @/anonymous ), On the occasion of his young son Yamen's birthday anniversary.

Dina's daughter, Ronza, is not even four months old, yet she suffers from malnutrition after spending her short life in the midst of war. Yamen, five years old, is also struggling with illnesses and malnutrition due to the harsh conditions. There is no greater nightmare for any father than to see his children starving and sick, unable to do anything to help. Please help Dina save his children and bring them to safety. Every child deserves security and nourishment, and you can be the hope that rescues Ronza and Yamen, giving them the childhood they deserve, far from the sound of bombs.

Their Husband Ahmed suffers from a severe herniated disc that prevents him from moving normally or holding his children in his arms. Additionally, he has another illness that he refuses to disclose, which only adds to his suffering. In Gaza, the medical resources available for his treatment are inadequate, and every day that passes without proper care increases his pain and the anxiety his family endures. He urgently needs to receive treatment and travel abroad before his condition worsens further. Your assistance in raising funds means not just alleviating his pain but saving a father who is desperately trying to remain by his children's and family's side. Don't let this family, who has already endured so much loss, also lose their father, husband, and sole support.

Dina has shown me pictures of the explosion near them, and thankfully, they managed to escape in time. Every day they spend in Gaza puts their lives at risk from Israeli bombs. Every day and hour counts. I know there are compassionate and kind people willing to help. Every euro helps, and your donation will bring them one step closer to safety. With love and hope, I ask you to give what you can. I believe in the kindness of people in this world, and I beg you not to let his family die. If you can’t donate, please share this message so it may reach those who can help.

Never forget that palestinians are not numbers on a list of deaths. Please think of each of them, think of their names and faces and know that you can help them. I think of them every day. I think of the hopes and dreams they should achieve, I think of their education, their future, and the love they show when they work hard every day to get help. You may feel powerless to stop this genocide, but you have the power to save Dina and his family.

I dream that the day will come soon where they may use their days to rest and recover from what they’ve been through, where they can share a meal and laugh and the children will play, instead of having to use their time to beg the world to listen and help them. We can make this possible.

9,000 euros is a lot of money for one person to give, but for all of us together, it can be done. Please don’t look away.

Thank you for reading their story. Please don’t keep scrolling without sharing

Here is the link again for their fundraiser

tagging for reach:

@90-ghost @heritageposts @tamamita @neechees @valtsv @fluoresensitive @khanger @autisticmudkip @beserkerjewel @furiousfinnstan @xinakwans @batekush @appsa @nerdyqueerr @butchsunsetshimmer @biconicfinn @stopmotionguy @willgrahamscock @ot3 @strangeauthor @pcktknife @legallybrunettedotcom @lautakwah @sovietunion @evillesbianvillain @antibioware @akajustmerry @dizzymoods @ree-duh @neptunerings @explosionshark @dlxxv-vetted-donations @vague-humanoid @buttercuparry @greetings-fiends @malcriada @turtletoria @northgazaupdates2 @feluka @dirhwangdaseul @officialspec @ibtisams @sawasawako @memingursa @riding-with-the-wild-hunt @toesuckingoctober @sabertoothwalrus

[azure-cherie]

𝑷𝑨𝑪 : 𝑻𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒅𝒐𝒏𝒕 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇

Pile - 1-2-3

Please choose with your intuition. Only take what you can relate to as this is a general reading

🕊️Masterlist

🕊️Paid services

❦︎𝓟𝓲𝓵𝓮 1:

Hii dear pile 1 I hope yall have been well . No matter how much you like to be in the shades or how much you are of an introvert , did you know that you make n excellent leader , that under your guidance, finest of the lillies shall bloom . You might think that you ar a thinker but my dear , your gut feelings are stronger and lead you better , you better start acknowledging them , don’t lose your command on who you actually are , your gift can save you . You're well balanced , being a little more organised is something you really wanted to be for a long time, and you don’t have to sabotage yourself thinking youre not already , you are really doing good and you will continue to do it , sometimes its okay to leave room for unpredictability . You sometimes feel scared of things , get into the depth of this matter , is this coming from an older thought you have . Are you letting go of an important material prospect excusing saying its because you have been spiritually involved . For ex : even though you have to save up for the month , you tend to buy weed , just an example tho . Youre going towards something coz you think you like it , in this case it might be a relationship , but do you seee this person reciprocting or are just going mindlessly into the abyss , spirit wants you to take some time and evaluate your choices . Please don’t sabotage yourself into thinking that your struggles are less than anyone elses , recognise and accept that you have toxic parents and that life can go wrong . You bring people with so much clarity about themselves , like you are a start for spiritual awakening for people .you might have suffered a great loss and might be lowkey right now , but to lt you know , these people hold no grudge and judgements and they already love you , think youre confident and outgoing , this applies for family and close friends .

❦︎𝓟𝓲𝓵𝓮 2 :

Hii dear pile 2 I hope yall have been well. You right now might have been isolated because you confronted someone for their ill doings , you did what should be done and it has left you alone and you might be confused about what has happened and why , but don’t worry this thing that has occurred is a building block to what you are becoming in the near future. You are really a loyal friend , do not worry about what others say or do. Youre very abundant and you draw so much inspiration from everything around you , what others don’t see , you see , you do it so well . You might be overusing your resources , to a point where you could face problems so be head on about where and how you are spending your money . You're intuitive , you might be a witch , someone from your blood line was one , you are also blessed with those powers . They try to give you signals through your dreams , learn to see the meaning behind those common looking words . You have achieved a lot , almost to the point of satisfaction , now you want to call people over and celebrate so mote it be you are a party girl and its amazing . Youre analytical , perfectly intelligent and logical and at times you feel shy to accept compliments but that’s just who you are so accept and cherish it . Lastly I get you might be obsessing over something and ignoring whats already there , already handed to you , don’t loose what you have because of a delusion .

❦︎𝓟𝓲𝓵𝓮 3 :

Hi dear pile 3 , hope y'all have been good . You don’t know that youre in love , because of something that has happened in the past has lead you to close your heart , youree beautiful but broken , but I don’t see that as being much of a concern for you right now as youre very slef assured and satisfied with what you do , a change is necessary . For the other lot of you , this is a confirmation for you to get married , yes the love has carried on , don’t be afraid of commitment . You have a very good communication style and people value what you have to say . I also get that some of you might be dissociating bad, like not realising that something has happened to you , being one of those people who shut themselves when something happens to them . Open your eyes youre not what they made you , you will be what you choose to be , you think the damages are irreversible but you got a long way to go , chin up bestie . You have achieved my dear you must treat yourself with something , maybe velvet cake or cheese cake , that’s what I get specifically . Take a break and leave for a vacation alone you have worked so hard already . Some of you here are starseeds , indigo children , you should connect to your soul family , they are always rooting for you . If you are a person who stays in the middle of arguments in work area , its okay that doesn’t give you less personality , infact you are benefitting by being in the middle as most of the people in your work place are too opionated or too judgemental . Your focus should definitely be you always.

Thank you so much for reading i hope this resonates

love love 💕

[sugarbombs-n-stuff]

Companion’s Hobbies

I hope you all enjoy this one and let me know what you want to see from me in the future!

(No gage or longfellow this time around, ill add them later if yall want but i think longfellows boring and i haven’t really played with gage enough for me to say much about him,)

Ada - She actually really digs birdwatching! She can name basically every bird you see and she gets sad whenever she thinks about pigeons.

Cait - Most people would assume something violent and while she does enjoy sparring she’s also really good at wood carving. She picked it up when she was enslaved but she didn’t really do anything with it until traveling with Sole.

Curie - Besides science things she enjoys swimming and gardening with Codsworth. After Sole taught her how to swim she was basically always in water though she does panic a bit when she dives down too deep. Her and Codsworth started gardening when she started getting interested in plants and now they do it for the ritual of it.

Codsworth - Gardening and telling stories. He likes the monotony of gardening as it gives him peace of “mind”. And if there are kids around he’ll tell them stories about Pre-War America, folk tales, and even original stories. Deacon and Cait have dubbed it as Story Time with Codsworth.

Danse - Danse enjoys reading and working out. He likes the sore feeling after working out on whatever equipment Sole set up. Most people might believe that when it comes to reading, he prefers non fiction, he does not. If you get a look at what he’s reading when he’s enjoying himself you might find him reading Lord of the Rings or The Hobbit or any of the Narnia books. He’s a huge fan of fantasy but there are times where he’ll read I Have No Mouth, and I Must Scream or Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep.

Deacon - Fiber arts like knitting, weaving, embroidery, anything like that. It has some to do with making disguises but he also grew up doing it with his mom and grandparents. His family are Big-Horner ranchers so they had plenty of wool that his grandma would spin and him and his mom would knit and weave with it. His other grandma would dye and weave it mostly. After all these years he kept the skills and still loves fiber crafts. He basically always has a knitting project he’s working on. If you’re close with him(or pay enough caps), he’ll make you something.

Nick Valentine - He’s an old man that listens to audio dramas while he mends either his clothes or Ellie’s. Like Deacon, if he’s close with you he’ll mend your things too. It became his hobby accidentally after he kept ripping his clothes and by the time Ellie came to stay with him it had already weaseled its way into Nick’s heart. He’s also fond of checkers and he and Ellie play it a lot.

Piper - She writes. Its her hobby that she made a business out of. It started a little after her dad died and she does it now to grant her self some peace of mind. She’ll write stories for Nat and they’ll act them out together in their living room through laughs.

Preston - Hunting, Fishing, and repairing , though he isn’t as good as Sturges. He grew up on the island near far harbor so its pure muscle memory when he does it now. His brother taught him how to fish when he was younger and his auntie taught them both how to hunt. He can really clear his mind when he’s doing it and its one of the rare times his mind gives him peace instead of problems.

Hancock - Hancock doodles a lot. It was always getting him in trouble when he was in school but now its what he does when he’s first watch when traveling the wasteland. Even on important documents for Goodneighbor you’ll be able to see tiny almost chibi-esk drawings of whatever’s on his mind.

MacCready - Mac also draws! When writing notes to Duncan he’ll draw pictures of whatever creatures he encountered when traveling with the sole survivor’s merry band of misfits. He works hard on every drawing that he makes and it shows cause even though its just a hobby he could make good money off of it.

Strong - Even though he will never admit it, he enjoys hunting with Preston. He also likes reading shakespeare and he’s slowly but surely branching out to other authors. He can read on his own but if him and Sole are close enough, he’ll ask sole to read to him while he’s cutting up what ever fresh kill he got from hunting.

X6-88 - Insect Taxidermy and Gun Cleaning/Modding. If you walk into his house he has butterflies, bloatflies, blood bugs, etc on the walls. He hunches over a desk and pins their wings and bodies and it’s genuinely one of his favorite things to do. Gun care empties his mind as he lets muscle memory take over. While it is calming , he does it more so when he gets an itchy trigger finger. He’ll take it apart, inspect it, clean it, then reassemble it over and over. He’ll tire of it quickly though

[pejite]

Little by little, the snow is melting, and soon the pleasant spring weather will arrive. The time to start ploughing and sowing is drawing near. The past few years had been good; they had enjoyed bountiful harvests, and with Edwin working for the Abernathys, they had managed to save a decent amount.

As they sat at the table, sipping tea and enjoying some biscuits that Rosemary had made, Wilhelmina and Edwin chatted quietly. Edwin felt optimistic about the future of their small farm.

"We could invest the money we’ve saved in buying some livestock" Edwin suggested, placing his teacup back on its saucer "Maybe a couple of cows. That way, we’d have milk and meat to sell, and we could earn even more."

Wilhelmina looked at him with a hint of concern on her face, which Edwin noticed immediately. "What’s the matter? Don’t you think it’s a good idea?" he asked, slightly irritated. Wilhelmina smiled gently, realising she might have upset him. "No, it’s just… I don’t know, maybe it’s too risky to spend all our savings. You know how fragile George’s health is."

Edwin sighed. "George doesn’t have to fall ill, don’t be so pessimistic" he said, looking at his wife seriously.

"Rosemary didn’t have to fall ill either, but she did. And you know how much we spent on the doctor, we even spent money we didn’t have" Wilhelmina replied, resting her chin in the palm of her hand. "I don’t know, love, let’s wait a bit longer. Let’s save a bit more so we don’t end up with no savings all at once, please."

Edwin, though frustrated at not being able to buy the livestock right away, understood what his wife was saying. Even though it weighed on him, he nodded and rested his cheek in the palm of his hand. "All right" he agreed.

[tumblebagel]

OH MY GOD

I just realized this rant I've been sitting on for the past five years would go PERFECTLY on Tumblr. Any autistic persona fans out there, this post is for you. If you are a typical persona fan, or just regular autistic, you will also likely appreciate this.

For the past 5 years, I've been using my own theory to process and visualize how my brain works. I call it: The Press Spoon System.

For those who don't know, there's a common concept called "spoon theory" most often used by people with chronic illnesses, and neurodivergent people. It says that you have a certain number of "spoonfuls" of energy every day to use, and that you have to be careful expending your spoons, because you might not have enough for something important later. It's a nice visualizer too, imagining a stack of spoons in a drawer. You can't quite tell how many spoons are left, cause they're all stacked on top of eachother, but you can make an estimate.

Now comes the persona influence, or more accurately, the SMT influence. The Shin Megami Tensei battle system is called the "press turn system." the way it works is that you start your turn with a number of actions that you can use for skills. But, if you use the specific mechanics based in your skills, you can instead only spend half an action. With enough planning and luck, you can double the amount of actions you have in a given turn. Those mechanics specifically are Weaknesses (using the correct damage type on an enemy. e.g., using fire spells on an ice enemy), Critical Hits (a random chance that's usually only on physical skills), or Technical Attacks (specific combos of damage types and status effects. e.g., using a spell that does psychic damage on an enemy that's enraged). Also, if you use the mechanics poorly (whiffing an attack, or using Resisted/Blocked/Reflected damage types), then it instead spends 2 actions.

You've likely already caught on, but it's my blog, so lemme spell it out.

In the Press Spoon System, you wake up with a certain number of spoons for the day, and a certain number of tasks to work on. You can spend a spoon, to progress a task slightly (like doing damage to an enemy). Your damage types are different IRL skills you're good at: studying, digital art, writing, social skills, cleaning. Hitting a school assignment with a studying skill is a lot more effective than making progress by cleaning the nearby area. That's your equivalent of landing a Weakness, thus spending only half a spoon (for the sake of visualization, 1/2 spoon = 1 spork). You can spend spoons setting up debuffs on the tasks to make them easier to hit with other damage types in the future, like technical attacks. Or, sometimes, you get lucky and a task was way easier than you thought, like landing a Crit.

But also sometimes you try to work on something and completely whiff, which is draining and takes 2 spoons. Or you think that using a digital art skill will help you clean your room by making a pretty chart to work with, but it backfires because drawing process made your space dirtier, like a reflected attack which also costs 2 spoons. This also brings up the idea of health. While spoons represent how much stuff you can do before you turn into an ineffective husk for the rest of the day, health is a representative of mental stress. Drop to 0, and you deal with your breaking point, likely a panic attack. There are healing skills, but sometimes is better to just finish off a task so it doesn't hurt you any more in the future, even if it leaves you near-death at the end of process.

You could spend a spoon to call in an ally for a couple turns, but the ally can't do everything for you, and there's the chance that they could get hurt if you do call them in. Maybe that spoon is best spent defeat the school assignment that's been charging its attack for the past 14 days in the background. Maybe you want to stop a task from calling in reinforcements, or buffing the damage of another task, or delivering debuffs back to you:

Like a rage kind of status, which makes me use sassy/frustrated/passive-agressive attacks when a social skills based move would have been far more effective

Depression kind of status, which makes everything cost full spoons, no sporks

Scatterbrained, which targets a random enemy on the field whenever you use a skill

Or executive dysfunction, which cuts you down to one spoon at the start of the day

This has been a revolutionizing way of visualizing my mental health and has done SO much good for me over the past couple years. Unironically saved me so much trouble.

[gemsofgreece]

Can you explain your post about the fear? Is there fear that if ppl vote for a different party, the right wing party will hurt them? And what are the different options? Sorry for ignorance

It is honestly a little hard to explain because we… or I, at least, don’t know what to tell you for sure.

Would the government hurt people not voting for them? No. Not now. Not in the near future. I don’t believe this.

The problem is different and so shadowy and veiled that it ends up scary in a different way. The government very slyly and smoothly tries to make us not realise that we ought to vote someone else.

I don’t know how exactly to explain this but if you had asked this in 2019-2020, most people would have no idea what you are talking about, most people would think that things are mostly going well. Many people still do.

It was from foreign journalism that we found out Greece is dropping like crazy in freedom ratings and skyrocketing in corruption. It makes sense that we did not know because obviously the media are controlled, hence the collapsing freedom. We knew the first thing this government did when they were elected was to give enormous money to the press and the tv channels but it was after foreign media started picking at it that we had evidence of the consequences.

There are things that have happened in Greece all this time that have opened many eyes - destructive massive ARSONS, evidence the government was spying on ministers and members of the parliament, a justice system that proves to be less and less independent every day, a mysterious and ill-handled train tragedy that killed dozens of young people, a general environmental degradation committed to our face and against our will, a concentration of ministers’ relatives and besties in all positions of power, massive hirings of priests and policemen, a collapse of the quality of education (though this has been happening for years), a marginalisation of the citizens of the country for the sake of tourists and rich investors, apart from all the financial and employment issues that are standard trademark problems in Greece. And just if you explore Greek social media you will see that there are huge problems in the society. Immense toxicity. People REALLY have issues. The society is ailing.

However, any attempt at exposing, criticising, protesting, calling for action just falls flat. Ten years ago something would easily get people out in the streets. Nowadays the most frustration a person will ever express is through social media.

Such attempts from people are met with - not violence - but a debilitating scorn. They react to our concerns and accusations by waving them off as wrong, unfair or silly and they make fools of us to our face. This makes the people feel extremely powerless and numb. We are essentially paralysed and convinced of our impending doom. And then so many people do not go to vote - leaving those who are dripped in the government party’s colours to boost it to the aethers.

Some examples to draw a better picture:

The presence and the voice of non-governmental / opposition parties has been reduced in the media. Not that anyone is worth it to be honest but still. They are silenced.

Nobody has ever resigned for the yearly hundreds of massive fires or for the huge train accident or I think even for the spying exposé. In fact, PM just said after the gigantic fire that surrounded all of Athens yesterday that “every year we strive and we become better out of this”. This is an example of how much of a fool they make of us.

The media do not cover the bad things happening in the country. The fire that burnt Athens was in the news because it was inevitable, half the Greek population lives there. However, there are massive fires happening in other places of the country that are absolutely not covered. A fire has been destroying a virgin forested mountain in Serres for a month now, nonstop. Not in the news. Serifos island has been burnt to a crisp - I posted a photo of the now black island earlier in the summer. It was hardly in the news at all. You learn properly about this all through the internet and the little remaining independent press. But middle aged and older people (who are traditionally right wing) relying on tv or certain standard newspapers, they probably have no idea at all or a very skewed image of what is happening.

Committees coming from the EU to investigate on freedom and transparency concerns - the government members have repeatedly not met them lol. Like, they literally do not show up in the meetings. The reports produced by the EU are very alarming and nobody bats an eye. They probably don’t even read them.

A journalist was assassinated a couple of years ago because it became known he was about to reveal something groundbreaking. Private conversations of his with government members were found in his phone. These were supposed to be disclosed in the trial for his murder that happened a few days ago. During the trial, the prosecutor herself announced that these conversations were “accidentally” destroyed because they were saved ONLY in a single CD-ROM (in 2024!!!) that was ACCIDENTALLY broken with a stapler (in 2024!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!). Justice and government together, they consider us utter clowns and they are not exactly wrong to be fair. Oh, and the suspects were released because “there wasn’t enough evidence”. Of course.

One main member of the examining committee for the train tragedy in Tempi was upgraded to the highest court of the country. Needless to say, nothing about the shady parts of this accident has been reported or disclosed.

Owners of the largest sports federations have been buying the press, tv channels, the telecommunications and god knows what else.

We are facing a huge problem with the installation of countless wind parks across the country, even in environmentally protected areas and large mountains, which is unheard of in other European countries. In fact, a lot of the fires are suspected to be associated to this. (Not all though, people sometimes exaggerate about this.) The head of Greece’s wind energy company just so happens to be PM’s cousin.

These are a few examples. I hope you get the picture. It’s not like something is happening directly to people but all these things make us feel powerless, paralysed and afraid of the future. Many are still convinced things are going great. Or want to be convinced, I don’t know.

Even I am not comfortable writing this now.

PS. There are no options if we are being realists. All politicians in the country are either corrupted or utterly useless and usually they are both. We really are doomed.

[samantha-and-nellie]

i finally read “the lilac tunnel: my journey with samantha” (shoutout to @cannon-memely for letting me know that i should actually take the time to check it out!) and i have Thoughts. full reactions from reading it under the cut

to preface this (since there is going to be a tiny bit of snark and general silliness), i did overall have a good time reading this book! i have some qualms with the storylines they chose to put in there, but i do think that the journey books are one of the smarter moves they made during the beforever era. i remember really loving the “you choose” history books as a kid, and i think the interactive component is appealing and generally a great way to keep children engaged. i could absolutely ramble on more about historical fiction for children, but let’s just jump into my (semi-chaotic) thoughts about “the lilac tunnel.”

first of all, FASCINATING that samantha apparently has a swing at grandmary’s house, since i’m pretty sure that it’s never mentioned in the original books. do we think it was lydia and gard’s, or do we think gard (or even hawkins) put it up for sam?

samantha’s got ORPHAN SYNDROME and she’s got it bad

okay. this is probably my main gripe with this book, but having this book set pre-nellie (and thereby having on option to essentially be nellie but under grandmary’s employment???) is bizarre af

on the flip side, the fact that nellie isn’t around really highlights how lonely samantha is, and i think we all know that I’m SOOOO normal when it comes to themes of grief and loneliness in samantha’s stories

WHY TF DOES EDDIE HAVE SUCH A LARGE ROLE IN THIS STORY. DEAR GOD PUT HIM BACK WHERE HE CAME FROM

elsa??? having a prominent role in a samantha story??? what sorcery is this???

yeah, super duper excited to have it reinforced that samantha is ready to accuse servants of stealing so long as they aren’t the servants that she likes

i think we’ve all had nightmares in which eddie ryland appears

samantha having an understanding of the fact that she’s transgressing by being friendly with a servant girl when this book is set prior to her relationship with nellie makes me wonder how much child workers she has tried to befriend /hj

saint louis fair mention for the movie girlies:)

i wonder if the description of grandmary’s outfit on page 30 is meant to be a reference to this dan andreason illustration of her?

the magic lantern show is really cute:) (might be thinking about writing fanfic of this but with nellie…)

samantha being shorter than the protagonist of this story after being the tall one with nellie is honestly pretty funny. smol bean samantha

awwwww gard and cornelia

HEY HEY HEY 

WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK

BEFOREVER I’M ABOUT TO THROW HANDS

anyways, apparently we need to re-traumatize samantha with near-drownings at every chance we get:) this is not messed up at all:)

guess we better pretend like that never freaking happened

… okay the locket origin story is pretty cute

this book has such insane emotional whiplash. what do you MEAN one piney point storyline is about nearly drowning and the other is about a moonlight swim with cornelia?!?

someone should really draw fanart of samantha wearing the protagonist’s capris (big bow and all)

tbh, kinda confused by the bike plot line in this story, cause didn’t they incorporate the bicycle short story into the main beforever books?

new career path dropped for samantha, folks! (medical field)

mmm the fear about illness is getting a little too relatable here

i love how much dress up there is in this book:) literally would’ve rocked my world as a child

not the ENTIRE RYLAND CLAN coming over for dinner. a formal dinner with eddie actually sounds so horrific

… guess that’s the note we’re ending on for me. thanks for reading my rambles, and feel free to let me know if there’s other journey books i should check out in the future!

[dorkfruit]

i put this together using my computer's trackpad so the new year is already starting out . bad .

posts: J | F | M | A | M | J | J | A | S | O | N | D

template

reflections on the year, my plans for the future, some studies i did, and wips for the next year all down below for those who are interested

tldr; we will be ianthing next year so watch out!!

oh dear lord it's been another year. 2024! can you believe it! i don't talk much on this blog because i have a tendency to talk too much, but it's my little new year's treat, so here we go.

RECAP

i started taking drawing "seriously" in December of 2020, starting to do studies and stuff, and each year since i've ramped it up more and more. this year, i did. a lot of studies. there's probably like at least 200 more in my folder now (not including the 300 days worth of gesture drawings i did), with things like painting, faces, feet, poses, etc. anything i was struggling with, i went right into studying it. my art has been mediocre for a pretty long time now, and it's only the past few months where i feel i'm starting to get the hang of it, which is exciting!

more importantly, i started posting a lot more on this blog. i really like documenting my progress, looking on where i was before and seeing how i've improved. everytime i draw some fanart, im like, oooghh i can't wait to show my (: followers (: !! lots of locked tomb art of course. i've been trying to nail the energy of the different characters, which is why i enjoy books so much, because you get a lot of creative control. drawing ianthe is my fav of course, cause she's my lil nasty, but also i enjoyed doing designs for characters i hadnt thought about before, like judith.

in addition to the locked tomb, we had some new fandoms that got brief moments in between iantheposting: Fear and Hunger, Postal, Faith The Unholy Trinity, and a couple of old ones too, like We Have Always Lived In The Castle and The Merciless.

i posted about 115 times this year, although most of those are shitposts LOL i love posting stuff on my blog and showing people my stuff <3

THE FUTURE

my plans? do more ianthe art, of course. ill be working on more studies, probably going to work on developing a style, and figuring out how to paint. i'd like to do more actually finished pieces, but let's be honest, it'll still be mostly shitpost doodles. i'd like to do more weird stuff. i've been messing around with some gore and NSFW near the end of the year, and it's fun to draw for me. i like idk art that evokes some type of emotion, especially discomfort, and so i find that type of art fun to do, so if you don't enjoy what i've done thus far in that direction, perhaps this isn't the blog for you. i really like horror media, and so i want to do some stuff like that too.

for specifics, i like western type art, a comic book-esque style i'd like to aim for. but i'd like it to be a little more. weird with it. i find comic books often draw all the characters the same, and make all the characters traditionally attractive, and that's boring to me so i'll have to work on finding a way to keep things weird, while also appealing in a graphic sense. the worst thing my art could be is bland and forgettable.

locked tomb wise... more tridentarii art. need to be really weird with it. i have lots of wips planned, like i have a whole page worth of just thumbnails, so i wanna get some of those done. also i had a few animatics i wanted to do. mostly stupid shit, once i learn how to do animatics, then we'll do actual serious ones. id also like to do more comics. i have some comics storyboarded out with my girlies, i like telling a story so, need practice on that. id also like to develop a way to consistently draw them, for convenience sakes, so i'm not fighting for my life every single time i draw these characters. oh and i wanna do some outfit stuff. i draw them in like. generic clothes everytime but i'd like to come up with a few actual outfit designs, that i can just reference back to. and, of course, more shitposts. lots of stupid shit in 2024 for sure. there was something else i wanted to say here but i can't remember.

ART

oki enough rambling, here's some IMAGES for yall to look at i know everyone loves to look at images.

began this year by warming up with gesture sketches (almost) every day. i started with 20 poses (30 seconds each), and then in november i was like. ugh my hands suck i need to get better at hands, so i switched to doing 10 hand sketches (60 seconds each). i want my art to be very energetic so it's important that i do these !!

anatomy studies of extremities because i'm flopping at those -_- ive gotten better with hands but they're still a struggle. i hate feet tho still

need to get my painting game up. i joined an art forum to get advice, and the biggest suggestion i got was working on my values, so i did various value studies. also lots of faces because my faces flop !!

random doodles to work on drawing from imagination. on my "sketchbook" pages, as i like to call them, i'm usually pretty loose and messy, since the point is just to be drawing so often these will suck, but that's fine. i don't think very much when i draw faces on here either so they end up being in my Instinctive Style i suppose you could say

ianthe wip. i was planning to do a few drawings based on the idea of her having Missing Arm nightmares, but the lineart was intimidating to me so i haven't worked on this one more yet /: also there was going to be a toontown gay homosexual toxic yuri comic that i was gonna put here with it but the page is way too long so umm guess that'll have to wait.

...

anyways. thank you for reading if you got to the bottom of this! i appreciate all the support that i've been getting lately (extra big kissies for the same like 5 people who always reblog my posts youre the best). and we will be ianthing soo hard in 2024 so watch out!!

[iniziare]

At the very top, within the wood just above where stone turns to wooden rafters sits a raven, curious and unblinking, head tilting one way, watching the elf’s ever graceful strokes of the paintbrush. A curiosity, it seems, that the very imagery reflected in what is perceived at first as mere reflections of one’s inner demons shows in such a way. The question remains, what is Solas confessing with the flicker of colors dappled across the tower wall. As prickly as he is, it remains to be seen the true details of his reasoning. She doubts he will say the entire truth when asked, just as she doubts his willingness to learn more than what his perception of the world is… and yet somehow, all the more the mystery, all of this reminds her of her mother. And like her time with Flemeth, all Morrigan can do is sit, listen…. and watch.

Familiarity, that was the way in which the sound of rustling feathers met the shell of his ear, and encompassed him; but it would not do more. No, it could not draw the scrutiny of eyes of ashen grey, a gaze in which the faintest trace of violet lay hidden, unbidden— its presence a secret that lay barely concealed, and yet held within itself the capacity to unveil a truth of an assumed apostate mage that only the plaster before him, and its pigments that would soon follow it, could rival in revelation. The violet of ancient Elvhenan could never release him, as it was him, as certainly as the breath in his lungs; and thus was that which could most easily betray him.

And though such revelations were not for the present yet, the reality of such a time neared, the ending to an Inquisition's journey, and his existence therein; and Skyhold would prove to be no different. Much as it had succumbed to such a fate in its past, it would yet again yield to the eventual passage of time, abandon, and slumber. And these depictions, as vivid as they may all be now, would be no more than records of what had once been; more memories to be foregone to potential ignorance if he failed (he would not). But he would remember nonetheless, he could once walk such halls again in wistful recollection, and remember the tales of those that had battled Tevinter once more, bravely so, recklessly so. And he would remember the yearning of a heart, the heart of this mortal form that had become his as much as it had once been anything but— for another. And yet she, he would not, could not, depict with any pigment known to this world, nor his own of long ago. No, but she would live, vividly, and ever brightly so, within his memories, within his regrets— ones that he would treasure more than any fulfilled promise that the future should hold. Vhenan. Almost, almost, had this poignancy then permitted his gaze to be drawn from the wall and upward to this esteemed guest, away from his plaster, away from that which would be the last of its kind within this rotunda, from the memory it would soon hold, and the plea that would be held tightly within it.

It bore a sentiment of amusement, how silence proved time and again how it could deafen the existence of all that surrounded him. Or perhaps, it was his curiosity that brought all sound to heel, or was it hers— hers? In truth, he knew not for certain whom such presence belonged to, though he held his suspicions. No raven would sit in such a place, in such quiet contemplation in an environment wholly ill-fitting to its nature; and even though lost of powers he'd once held, the energies rooted in the Fade were as intrinsic to his being as nothing else could be: this was no raven, and the familiarity in the air belonged to times only recently passed. He would give her no name, for she'd sought no announcement or introduction, and so he would grant her neither— but wondered instead, perhaps as much as she: what answer is it that you seek from me?

Prompt: Unprompted, I love you dearly. // @grimoirefate

[ofmermaidstories]

(This is all about ''Something (just like this'' :], i apolagize in advance)

Theres an auther (you, i'm thinking of you) that has given sutch weight to the simple human pains everyone has, let them cary a greaf in every breath they're mentioned, i can't help but ache with the mc as one because i get it, i understand and even if i handn't felt the same pain that crushes your hope of ever being loved in the same way you do, if i hadn't though myself cynical and bitter the way she does i still think i'd get it.

I still think i'd be able to see myself cradle my heart like an infant, even though it's an old ugly, terrable creature.

The plots so ritch it's unbalivable that i get to read your works for free, like i knew it was her bestfried the second our artist glaced over her sholder and saw her drawing kids with guns in masks. But it was her best-fucking-fried, who dies without answering her livid questioning.

It's her constant self awair bitternes to the person she is that just-

Chefs fucking kiss.

Like the way she views herself and everyone else she thinks threatens the few things she sees as good in her with a sort of cynicalnes, but through herself that is bloody perfect.

Shes insane for the shit she pulls, Gods i love her.

I cannot expres enough of my love for the way you craft your words, the story and the way you put so mutch care into it makes me ill.

Izuku is caprured so well, his whole being being intertwined with Katsukies-....i am going feral as we speak.

Also her being an artist so acuretly presented, it's insane, the way she is about her skill, her talents, her works and her instuments and the way there are these little moments she wants to capture is so stupidly accurate to how i see the world as a creative. Always hungry and always craving to make, even when im no where near a peace of paper or even the shittiest of pens.

Im grinning and in fucking tears. (As i was writing all of this in my notes i wasn t even that far into the last chapter.)

Holy fuck, god i fucking despise Hana. And i get why, and im amazed at how her resoning, her pain and anger dosn't justify(?) shit when i've seen a lot of things where someones inhumane actions get swept under the rug cus they were hurting quietly, or something.

She was like a quirk nazi. Nothing redeams(?) that, y'know?

Auther i am shaking you by the sholders, and im sorry if my nails dig in too deep but holy fuck. Breathings hard, fic so good my rib cage has started to feel too small for my heart, and my lungs, and the hole your story has carved inbetween all of it.

Fic so good i haven't even gotten to the end and i want to thank you for, for all this has done to me. I'm shit with fics where there are a lot of words, no matter how mutch i love the characters and yet, and yet somehow this is one of the 100k + fanfics i have enjoyed every gut wrenching second of.

I feel like vomiting

In fact

I might.

They all need therapy after this, methinks.

(I know this is long and loopy, and my english (my second language) is not great, and that ultametly i kinda said nothing but i needed you to see (at least a little bit of) how insanely wonderful your craft is)

Anywho, i still haven't finished, and that was a lot of words, but i hope you have a lovely 24 h, i wish you the best with all of your future works. "Something (just like this)" has...given me brain damadge i'm guessing.

Blue, there is nothing to apologise for, I think you are wonderful. 🥺 You said everything. 🥺 From this message alone—from you taking the time to write it, and send it, I can tell you that there’s nothing about your heart that’s old or ugly or terrible. If anything, I think it’s golden—like the afternoon sun, reflecting all that good light back until it’s too much to hold. 🥹🫀✨

But okay, lemme try and do the thoughtfulness of this ask some justice. 🥹💕 God, to be honest I kinda worried about Hana, and her place in the story. Like—knowing how it was going to end. I think a lot of us will end up parting ways with people in our life that were important—and some, unfortunately, for ugly reasons. Hana’s betrayal is like, so extreme, so dramatic and terrible. And it doesn’t just hurt Reader, it hurt other people, kids. Like sure, Hana was hurt—but then she turned around and hurt others, willingly. And there’s no justice for the ones she directly affects. You’re right, Blue. You can’t redeem that—you can only pick up the pieces around it.

Tbh, I think Reader’s bitterness would’ve made building a life after it all that much harder, if it weren’t for other people. 🥹 Like—Scribbles cynical nature was such a fun part of writing the fic, lmao, and it absolutely would’ve made life that much harder for her in the aftermath if she didn’t have support. 🥹 I think someone like Scribbles, who barely trusts themselves, was a good match/contrast for Izuku who—like, even in canon is learning to overcome the worst of his most fear-driven habits. It gives him the ability to see Scribbles in a way that—that she needed. 🥺

Bluey!!! You’re an artist too??? Like our Reader. 🥹 The need to document everything is so real lmao. Like—it’s constant!! An insatiable way of looking at the world. 🥹 How do I capture this, how can I do this. I literally just had that feeling the other night, driving home under a perfectly straight trail of cloud like a comet’s tail. The sky was that perfect, indigo glow, and there was a single star alongside of it and it genuinely looked like the trail of a meteorite streaking over the sky and I wanted to remember everything about it. I wanted to draw it, write it, anything to keep it.

Blue, you have said so many kind things about my writing. 🥺 Either in this ask or in the tags of other things. And!!! It means so much to me, every time. 🥺 This is what I mean when I say you have a reflective, golden heart. 🥹💛🌿 I’m always going to be glad that like, I could write something that made you wanna reach out and say hello, lmao, but mostly I’m just glad you’re here. ☀️

(Also, as an aside—you mentioned a song, in the tags of one post a little while ago. I wanted you to know that I immediately ran to spotify to try and find it, lmao, and listen to it and like, now it lives in my likes and every time I listen to it I think of you and also of maybe trying to write a Bakugou worthy of the association, lmao. It’s such a sweet song, Blue, thank-you for the new music 🌷)

[elena-mayfair]

Choices that define us

Paring: Bruce Wayne x f!reader, Batman x f!reader Genre: Thriller, mystery, with elements of slow-burn romance Warnings: rating T+/M, gore and violence, strong language, themes of depression, depictions of mental illness Summary: "This was supposed to be a new beginning, the beginning of a bright new future…" you recalled the optimistic thoughts that filled your mind when you first set foot in Gotham City. But Gotham City turned out to have other plans for you. "How did I get here?" you wondered. Between the Joker and Harleen and Batman and Bruce Wayne, between near-death experiences and sessions with Professor Crane, in an endless loop of constantly recurring nightmares, attempts to contact Harleen, and the bold decisions. "What am I doing?"Word count: 10.5k Note: Gifs are not mine, credit to the authors.

Series masterlist

***

"No" two letters, one syllable, that's how much Batman answered to your question. For a moment you looked at him surprised, not quite believing your ears. "No?" you asked in a whisper, anger rising in you second by second, "No?!" you stood up abruptly and measured him with a furious look, "isn't that what you do? She needs help! And you have the opportunity to help her and you refuse?!" you asked Batman, who before your eyes turned from an empathetic man into a stern, cold mythical being. He stood in front of you measuring you with an unwavering stare, while his posture betrayed no emotion, "how can you say no?!" you tried but he looked at you with eyes hidden under a mask and in an icy tone ended the discussion, "leave it or I'll have you arrested for interfering with the investigation."

Sitting back in the office, tapping angrily on the keyboard, you tried your best to focus on your work but his words still echoed in your head. The cold and harsh tone of his voice, the threat of arrest, the last glance, his shape looming faintly in the sky as he rose above the rooftops. At that moment, when you asked him for help, you were sure he would agree. After all, you had spent two weeks reading incessantly about how much good he had done for the city, how many people he had helped, how many he had saved, how he had restored hope in the hearts of Gothamites. The words Batman and hope so often appeared side by side, and yet, he refused.

Days had passed since that evening and yet, the echo of his words refused to leave you. Days have passed since you went back to work and yet, every day your own words echoed in your head. "I can't just go back to work and normal life," you said, and each passing day convinced you more and more of the truth of your words. When you first stood in front of the majestic Wayne Enterprises building more than two months ago, you felt joy and excitement. With your eyes open, you were daydreaming your bright future, the growth opportunities you would get, the possibilities to build your new life. Now, as you sat in front of your computer, you felt trapped, like an animal that had tasted a little freedom only to find itself caged again. The numbers didn't line up in equations, the drawings of the project didn't look perfect, and your focus kept slipping away with a longing look out the window. For the world outside the window was frightening, it was full of horrible people doing nightmarish things, but it was also thrilling, alluring, exhilarating. What was mundane work, even for a prominent company like Wayne Enterprises, compared to loud stuffy clubs, to chases with a gun put to your forehead, to late-night strolls along the bank of the bridge, to long fascinating conversations over a mug of coffee when everyone had gone to bed, to the feeling of flying when you soared above the surface of the water in Batman's arms. Some part of you felt ashamed to admit it, but secretly, you longed for it. You longed for that feeling of wild freedom, for the threat that could end your life in the blink of an eye, for the adrenaline pumping through your veins, for the cool thrill of excitement every time he spoke in a cold stern tone. Batman. He possessed your every thought causing you to follow the news every day, forcing you to go out to the observation deck after work every evening longingly looking out for his symbol in the night sky, causing you to replay your encounters over and over again even while at work. Every gesture he made, every step he took, every word he said to you was imprinted in your mind and you could once again see clearly the contradictions colliding with each other. Because in your eyes, Batman was just that, a clash of contrasts like all of Gotham. The Dark Knight, the crime-fighting vigilante bringing pale terror to the faces of criminals by his mere appearance. A defender who put his life on the line to protect those who could not protect themselves. Manece, capable of knocking down several armed assailants in the blink of an eye. A savior, diving into the depths to save the life of a stranger. There was strength and authority in him, under which even his partners yielded, but also kindness and concern, which he did not have to show at all. There was something else, something infuriating, something that wouldn't let you just "go back to normal life." Something that made you stare mindlessly at the computer screen instead of paying attention to your surroundings, oblivious to the approaching footsteps.

"Good morning," a soft voice snapped you out of your thoughts.

"Mr. Wayne," you whispered surprised raising your gaze above the computer screen. Bruce Wayne, stood in the doorway of your office, with a barely discernible smirk wandering across his face. He leaned against the doorframe with his hands nonchalantly shoved in the pockets of his perfectly tailored black suit, and you couldn't help but wonder how long he had been looking at you like that, "I'm sorry, I didn't hear you coming," you stood up abruptly, realizing that it wasn't polite to sit in the presence of the company's CEO.

"It's okay," he replied maintaining a gentle tone, "I saw you were busy, I didn't want to interrupt you. Lucius reported that since you came back from sick leave you are not allowing yourself to be sent home and you are working for twelve hours a day."

"I thought I was contracted for non-regular, task-based working hours," you replied maintaining a professional tone, "I didn't think that would be a problem."

"It's not a problem," he replied softly, "don't get me wrong, I'm glad you're feeling well after that terrible accident you had. But that doesn't change the fact that your engagement caught Lucius' attention, and consequently mine."

"I have wasted enough time…"

"You suffered an accident, a fortuitous situation. You can't hold that against yourself. None of us do."

"And yet I feel I must make up for it," you replied stiffly. Bruce merely continued to stand leaning against the door and looked at you intently, "Excuse me for asking Mr. Wayne, but what brings you here? It seemed to me that the CEO has more important things on his mind than keeping an eye on lower-level employees."

"I'm not checking on you, not on your work to be precise," he replied shortly, "I pay close attention to Wayne Tech, I'm sure I told you that. Besides, I wanted to see how you were doing," he took two steps inside your office and pushed the door behind him without closing it completely, "I hope you don't mind."

"No, not at all," you replied with a smile yet you struggled to hide the irritation caused by his sudden appearance, "this is your company."

"But your office," he smirked, "so, how do you feel Y/N? To be injured in a car accident, that must have been horrible," the blue eyes watched carefully as if observing your reaction.

"Unexpected, that's for sure," you replied, "but I feel fine, physically at least. My shoulder still hurts, but the doctors said that's normal with joint damage. And I'm managing with the rest, a friend is helping me."

"I'm glad to hear it," he replied sincerely, "if you need anything…"

"I'm fine, Mr. Wayne," you interrupted him.

"I thought we were past that," the smirk returned to his face, arching a surprised brow.

"We're at work," you replied in a hushed tone, "forgive me if I don't feel comfortable addressing the company CEO by his first name on professional grounds."

"Forgiven," the discreet smirk irritated unbearably, "speaking of professional ground, wouldn't you mind sharing with me what you're working on?"

"Sure," you replied shortly and sat down at your desk, "this is just the start of a project. Mr. Fox gave me a few others to choose from but the events of the last few days inspired me to do something else," you explained as you opened the files and arranged them across the three monitors. Bruce made his way through the office and stood behind your chair, bringing with him the energizing scent of fresh citrus, smoothed by woody and musky notes.

"Some kind of detection system?" he asked leaning closer to the computer screen, placing one hand on the desk the other resting on the back of your chair. The scent of his fragrance lingered in your nose sharpening your senses, making you hyperaware of yourself. "Does this dress show too much cleavage? I forgot to put on my bracelets. Why do I have such a mess on my desk? I should straighten up, I hunch over. My hands look awful with these bloody cuticles," the thoughts ran rapidly through your mind, one after another.

"That's right," you said focusing on the design displayed on the screen, "but not some kind of. A system designed to detect increased activity in the city meant to warn Gotham citizens of a potential threat," you explained.

"May I?" Bruce asked, gently taking the mouse from you, "continue please," he encouraged while clicking through the project files.

"My recent accident as well as the events of the last few weeks that have been talked about in the news inspired this idea in my mind. First the shootout at the docks, then the Joker's escape from Asylum and the chase through central Gotham. Miraculously, only three people were injured…"

"How do you know?" he glanced at you out of the corner of his eye.

"I've been reading online," you replied evasively, "anyway, it all gave me an idea. What if we created a system to detect increased activity in the city that could send alerts to the people of Gotham warning them of potential danger?"

"You'd want to use telecommunication boxes, traffic lights, and radio towers for this," he analyzed points plotted on a map of Gotham.

"Wayne Tech owns most of the telecommunications and radio network in the city," Bruce nodded confirming, "we could use the already existing points spread throughout the city. On top of that, we could install the system in traffic lights, CCTV cameras and coordinate everything by triangulating the signal to the radio towers," you continued to explain.

"What would be detected?"

"At first, I thought to base the system on existing in the city speed limits and coordinate them with traffic lights. In case the limit was significantly exceeded and the registered vehicle ignored the traffic light, the sensors would send a signal to a radio tower, which in turn, coordinated with the telecommunications network, would send out alerts to citizens," you took the mouse out of Bruce's hand and clicked through several files, presenting a diagram of how the sensors would work, "this solution, however, seemed too flawed to me."

"Detecting every increased traffic would send too many irrelevant notifications unnecessarily spreading panic…"

"Exactly! So then I thought about adding a camera system and face detection software, but I think the city government and some of its people could find that…"

"Unethical…" he finished for you.

"Yup!" you confirmed and smiled faintly seeing his visible interest, "having crossed out these two solutions, I started to think what else could be detected. I thought of detecting sounds and the air's chemical composition," Bruce shifted positively surprised blue eyes from the computer screen to you, "criminals are unlikely to operate silently. This method may be flawed, but by my calculations, it has at least a 65% success rate. Sound detection based on specific sound waves to eliminate accidental detection. Sound waves such as those emitted by screeching tires, gunfire, the shouting crowd, the sound of shattering glass, an explosion."

"What about detecting a chemical alteration of the air?" he asked without breaking eye contact.

"An additional precaution to eliminate accidental detections. We would have to design really accurate and sensitive sensors, able to detect the slightest change in the air but based on its chemical composition. I was thinking that the sensors could detect gun smoke fumes, chemicals released during explosions, carbon, nitrogen, nitroglycerine, mercury fulminate, lead styphnate," you listed, "we could present the design to the police and get the chemical composition of the toxins the Joker has used in the past. I was thinking that one more safety feature could be added in the form of supersonic sensors to detect blast waves in an area, but I don't have that worked out yet."

"You worked it all out in four days?"

"I've been working too much," you smiled playfully, "I know that's not what I was supposed to do but…"

"This is good," he interrupted you, "really good."

"You think so?" excitement crept into your professional tone.

"Yeah, really impressive," he returned his eyes to the screen, "it requires the development of new technologies, especially sensors, but the idea itself is really impressive."

"I know it would require a lot of financial resources to implement the project, but if you give me the green light I will refine it! I'll develop new technologies, design the required components, plan tests and proofing methods, sparse risk levels and an implementation plan," seeing his interest you didn't hesitate, "Bruce! Imagine how many needless accidental casualties we could avoid with such a system! We could deploy the system to hospitals, the police and the emergency services, thereby improving response. We could design a mobile application for smartphones, voluntary to install, thus avoiding unnecessary dissenting voices and unfavorable public opinion that would probably want to turn this against us and argue it as an infringement! Bruce! Every time when something bad happened in the city people could just stay home and avoid the danger!"

"You've really thought it all through," he smiled fondly.

"I've had a lot of time to think lately," you replied innocently, "what you think?"

"Keep working on it," he replied, "you have the green light. I'll inform Lucius not to assign you any additional work for the next few months."

"Yes!" escaped happily, "sorry, but I'm really glad that you approve of my idea."

"And I'm really glad that I hired you," he replied straightening up, "send it all to me please. To me and to Lucius. I'd like to study your concept in detail," he added heading back toward the door, "good work."

"Thanks!" the wide smile didn't disappear from your face, "you'll have a link to the share drive tonight."

"Speaking of tonight," he stopped in mid-step, "I still owe you a stroll," he added softly.

You blushed not knowing what to answer. The sudden change in tone and direction of the conversation completely threw you off balance.

"Bruce… I'm sorry but I think this time I'll ask for a raincheck," you replied hesitantly, "don't get me wrong but after my accident, somehow, damn…" you stumbled over your words.

"What about dinner, then?" he asked and that rage-inducing smirk crept onto his face again, "Saturday night?"

"Bruce, you're my boss…"

"Lucius Fox is your boss, I just sign papers and spend money," he smiled wider, "Italian or Asian?"

"Italian," you smiled meekly, "after last weeks Asian is enough for me for the next six months."

"Italian it is," he agreed, "I'll pick you up at let's say 6 pm," he added, then without waiting for your answer he left your office leaving you confused, shocked and happy.

"Bastard is smooth…" you chuckled to yourself in disbelief at what had just happened, "damn smooth…."

***

Twelve miles southeast of Gotham in the Bristol Township amidst the towering hills and green woods a lonely Wayne Manor stood. Huge, lavish, majestic, a symbol of wealth and prosperity hidden deep within the estate behind an iron gate decorated with a stylized W at its top. To casual eyes, it seemed to be a Gothic palace, with beautifully ornate carved walls, and perfectly preserved architecture, surrounded by a beautifully tended garden. For some Gothamites, it was just one of the city's many Gothic buildings, for others it was an unshakeable memory of the great men who had been taken by the city's darkness and whose memory continued to live on in the hearts of many. Yet only a few knew its true meaning. For behind the perfectly painted richly decorated walls hid something more than prosperity and wealth. Beneath the arched vaulted ceiling, below the polished wooden and marble floors, below the firmly set foundations, countless caves spread. Once raw, wet and cold, they had been transformed by a young man who decided a few years back to change Gotham forever. The smaller caves were combined into one huge one, stretching underneath the entire mansion. Stone obtained from the reconstruction was used for creating various elevations and passageways. The natural structure of the cave was preserved but the flow of water was modified, leading all the streams down a single torrent towards the entrance, which in turn was converted into a waterfall hiding behind a driveway. Electricity and heating were brought in. An elevator was installed connecting the property to the cave as well as multiple minor entrances. Digitization was introduced, monitoring and many safety features were installed. Not one, not two, but three training rooms were created, and a special augmented reality simulation room was designed. Some of the natural rocky hollows were transformed into a medical wing, another into a workshop, and another into a laboratory. A huge computer was installed, multiple vehicles were brought in and in time even a small kitchen was arranged. For overtime, the cave became a home not only for one determined young man but for four more. Each so different from the other, each with a different past and different baggage of experience, all united in one goal, to make Gotham safe, to protect those who could not protect themselves.

Life for the men living in Wayne Manor was not easy. Years passed, years spent in sacrifices, devotion, and constant work. Years of loneliness and a sense of belonging. Years of frustration and joy. Years of anger, angst, grief, and understanding. Years of loyalty and love, even if none of them would admit it out loud. Years full of pain and suffering but also joy and warmth. Years kinder to some than to others. But can one speak of the kindness of fate when each of them bore on their bodies and souls countless wounds and scars like badges from battles fought? Can one speak of the kindness of fate when some carried within themselves wounds so deep that it seemed they would never heal?

In the empty cave music echoed from one of the training rooms. The loud deep beats blended together with the sound of fists hitting the punching bag repeatedly. 'Till the roof comes off, 'till the lights go out 'Till my legs give out, can't shut my mouth fists hit the bag rhythmically again and again. Right punch, kick from the knee, left punch, kick, elbow, kick. 'Till the smoke clears out, am I high? Perhaps I'ma rip this shit, 'till my bone collapse sweat poured down Jason's forehead but he didn't stop. He pounded the bag repeatedly and the swollen muscles pulsed under the tight T-shirt. Fist, elbow, kick, right fist, left fist alternating, faster, faster, harder, faster, kick, knee kick, fists again, alternating, as if his life depended on it. 'Till the roof comes off, 'till the lights go out 'Till my legs give out, can't shut my mouth anger, frustration, pain poured out in a hail of strikes.

"I think this bag has had enough Jason," Dick said in a raised voice observing his brother, "don't you want to change the bag to a living target?"

"Go away Grayson," Jason growled without interrupting his strikes.

"I'm just sayin'! A living target is better than a training bag! Promise I'll go easy on you!" Dick's unbearably cheerful tone irritated Jason.

"I don't need a training partner," Jason breathed out through clenched teeth without even looking at him.

"Come on Jay! Let's agree that I need a workout!"

"Then find Drake or little brat," right fist, left, kick, elbow, kick.

"I rather spare with you!"

"I said go away."

"Dude, don't make me beg!"

"Fuck off Grayson!!!" Jason yelled sending the bag ripped from its hanger with a thump through the room, "I won't train with you when I'm in like this cos I'll fucking massacre you!" Panting heavily he finally looked at his brother. To his surprise Dick was not smiling, concern and worry were painted on his face. He took a few steps toward his brother and handed him a towel and a water bottle.

"No, I don't want to talk about it," Jason snarled, downing the entire bottle in one gulp.

"I'm not saying anything!" Dick raised his hands defensively.

"You don't have to!" Jason growled angrily, "you've got this look on your face!"

"What look?"

"The one you give to little shitheads from Brat Justice Leauge! The one that says I'm your friend and mentor you can talk to me," Jason mimicked Dick in a mocking tone.

"Dude I'm just worried about you, that's all..." Dick kept his voice calm, knowing very well how to talk to his brother.

"Then don't! Just fuck off! I don't need your pity!" anger burned in Jason's eyes.

"Jay, you are boiling with rage…"

"What a fucking discovery mister detective!!! Wow!!! Just wow!!! Fucking brilliant detective work!!!"

"Jay…" Dick tried to interrupt him but it was too late. Jason's remnants of self-control were gone, the barriers let go.

"And how the fuck would you feel in my place?! How would you feel?! Every fucking time the Joker shows up, the fucker benches me! Every fucking time! Because what?! Because I can't handle it?! Because I can't handle the Joker?! Because he doesn't trust me?! Because he thinks I'm weak and I'll fucking break as soon as I face the fucking clown!!!"

"No, Jason!" Dick interrupted him abruptly, "Bruce doesn't think you can't handle it! None of us thinks so! Just the opposite…"

"What?! He's afraid I'm going to fucking kill him!"

"Jason…"

"I should do it! I should kill the fucking clown! I should fuck him up with a fucking crowbar, just like he fucked me up!!!! I should do it because neither Bruce nor any of you have the balls to do it! Because your precious moral code doesn't allow you to do it! But it did allow you to have the Joker kill me!!!" Jason grabbed his brother by the shirt and pulled him violently towards him, "I should do it. Not a day goes by that I don't dream about it. I should repay him with death for death. But I won't do it!!! But I won't fucking do it even though I want it and even though he deserves it! I won't do it because I'm not like him!!!"

With his hands gripped on Dick's shirt and his face red from anger, Jason was breathing heavily, and even though he was shouting the rage in his eyes was beginning to dim. For as he looked into his brother's eyes he saw only sympathy, concern and understanding and something much more important to him, trust.

"Better?" Dick asked quietly.

"Fuck you," Jason chuckled but this time a faint smile swept across his face. He let his brother go and proceeded to collect the ripped bag from the floor.

"Good, because we got work to do."

"Suit up?"

"Yup!"

"What's the job?"

"Tim and I interviewed Elliot Mercy employees, but they didn't tell us anything interesting. Crane, on the other hand, hasn't appeared at the hospital or at his home for several days. We need to track him down and interrogate him."

"You and I?"

"Not this time," Dick replied sensing his brother's impending second wave of rage, "You and Damian are tasked with observing the hospital and Crane's home."

"Stakeout with little batbrat? You must be shitting me!"

"Dude, work with me here!"

"What about you?"

"Tim and I have other job to do,". Dick replied evasively hoping Jason wouldn't ask for details.

"You are going after the Joker…" Dick was wrong.

"After Harleen Quinzel more than the Joker but yes."

"And what about Mr. Brooding?"

"Bruce is investigating Arkham," Dick replied, "Dr. Quinzel worked there for almost two years. There is a lot to investigate at Arkham."

"So I'm stuck with babysitting on a stakeout…" Jason muttered with resignation, hanging the bag back on the hook.

"Please don't kill him," Dick chuckled, "One dead Robin in the family is enough."

"Very funny Grayson, very fucking funny…."

Yet they both laughed, understanding very well how much self-control Damian sometimes required of them. Understanding very well that in the presence of death sometimes there is nothing left to do but simply laugh in her face.

***

Batman deeply wanted to share Y/N's belief in Dr. Harleen Quinzel's innocence. His memory was still vividly alive with situations from the past in which he himself had first assumed the innocence of a potential criminal, only to later realize painfully his mistake. He was young then and his head was filled with idealistic ideas and the belief that people deep down are good, only the situations they find themselves in do not allow goodness to flourish. Years passed, and he learned. He learned painfully from his own experiences, and he learned through the experiences of others. He hardened his body, honed his mind, learned to rely on his intuition, learned to see the facts as they were, without embellishing them with needless ideology. Years passed and he changed, his view of the world changed, his view of people changed, his approach to the mission changed. Still, one thing never changed. He always believed that the people deep inside were actually good, that he could help them. And he tried. He tried until no illusion remained. He tried until no other choice remained.

As he walked through the dark corridors of the Intensive Treatment Center, he looked sadly at the cells of all those he had failed and he could not help but wonder if each of them was a lost cause. He knew their stories, he knew the cause-and-effect sequence that led them to where they were now, but still he pondered who they would have been had they made different choices. Who would Victor Zsasz be if he hadn't lost millions in a casino and started murdering people arguing that he was "liberating" others from their pointless existence? How much good could Jervis Tetch, a brilliant neuroscientist, have done for the world if he hadn't gone on a homicidal spree driven by delusions and psychotic manic depression. Would Dr. Robert Langstrom have made a scientific breakthrough had it not been for the experiments he conducted on himself that eventually turned him into a humanoid bat-like monster and led to the death of his wife? How much good could Harvey Dent have done for the city as an amiable and courteous district attorney had it not been for the acid thrown in his face by Sal Maroni? Could the rise of others like Mad Hatter, Man-Bat, Two Face have been prevented? The latter particularly saddened Bruce; after all, they were once friends. Walking into Harleen Quinzel's former office, he wanted nothing more than for Y/N to be right.

*

Dick remembered very well the glory days of the Amusement Mile. The times when the Mile was bustling with life, laughter and joy, resounding with music and lighting up the neighborhood in all the colors of the rainbow. He remembered the times when families came with laughing children to ride the carousels, to feel the adrenaline rush while riding on roller coasters, to see the city from the top of the Ferris wheel. He remembered clubs bustling with music, theaters filled with artists, cinemas overflowing with viewers. He remembered the crowds of excited spectators filling the benches of Haly's Circus which was stationed on the shore of the bay. He remembered donning a shiny, tight red and white costume every night to swing with his parents on trapezes suspended from the ceiling, performing intricate acrobatic tricks to the delight of the crowd. It was the latter that Dick remembered very well, as well as his parents' dead bodies lying ten feet below him.

Only a painful memory remained of the past. The Amusement Mile was long forgotten, consumed by time, rust and decay. Once vibrant with life it now stood abandoned, silent, only occasionally whining metallically under the pressure of the wind. It once brought laughter and joy, but now the only laughter to be found in it was the distorted maniacal laughter of the only clown left in it.

"You okay?" Tim asked glancing stealthily at his brother.

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"Well…you know…" Tim didn't want to state the obvious.

"I'm fine Robin," Dick forced himself to smile, hoping to look sincere, "honestly, I'm fine."

"I wouldn't be," Tim replied zooming in on the entrance, " One time I wandered in there you know? I never told you that. Did you know in some parts of a mile you can still find posters?"

"I know," Dick replied shortly, "there was a time I wanted to burn them all."

"What happened?"

"Batman made me realize that wasn't the healthiest thing to do."

"How does he do that?"

"Do what?"

"He acts as if nothing moves him. As if he has everything under control."

"He doesn't have everything under control," Dick countered, "he tries, but it's not possible, even for him."

"Then why pretend?"

"It's not about pretending Tim," Dick lowered his voice addressing his brother by name, "this is about us. About you, Jason, Damian, and me. I think he's doing this for us. That he has decided in his mind that he needs to be strong so that we could be strong too."

"But displaying emotions is not a sign of weakness," Tim argued.

"You and I both know that," Dick chuckled, "But you know how he is. I'm not sure there's anything that could change him. He carries too much."

"But you are so much like him and yet so much different," Tim continued scanning his surroundings, "You have a life beyond the mission. People you care about. You have Barbara, and you guys somehow made this work! And I see how happy you are together!"

"Don't think that is all sunshine and rainbows! We've got our problems and it can be challenging at times."

"But you make this work!"

"Are you implying that Bruce needs a woman?" Dick chuckled.

"I'm not implying anything but even Joker got himself a girlfriend," Tim rightly pointed out straightening up from his squat, "and there she is…"

The door of one of the buildings opened revealing a female figure. Dressed in a tight-fitting red and black outfit, with two braids tied at the sides of her head, with a gun attached to her thigh, she wielded a baseball bat in her hands.

*

Jason hated many things in life. He hated the color green because it reminded him of the years he spent alongside Batman as Robin. He hated the sound of metal scratching against the pavement because it reminded him of things he preferred to forget. He hated it when the v-belt of his motorcycle jammed, hated the punctured tires as they bent the rims. He hated it when someone disturbed his reading, he hated black coffee, he hated pineapple on pizza, and above all he hated hospitals. Sitting on the roof of a building overlooking Elliot Memorial Hospital, he slowly realized another thing he hated, stakeout. Hours passed, every position he tried became uncomfortable, and Crane didn't show up.

"So, father assigned you with me so you wouldn't get yourself killed by going after Joker," Damian started the conversation as he scanned the hospital windows one by one, "If you ask me, I don't understand father's hesitance toward killing. It's the most effective way of dealing with criminals. Hundred percent success rate."

"I didn't," Jason muttered.

"If you think about it father doesn't at all bring the change he would like to bring for the city. He's only minimizing it temporarily, but the threat comes back sooner or later anyway. It's not a very impressive tactic." for a 15-year-old, Damian was haughty and snarky, in a tone of voice indicating his superiority over others.

"No one asked you for your opinion."

"Mistake. My grandfather has a much better approach from a tactical point of view. Complete eradication of the threat at the source."

"Ra's al Ghul would have happily slaughtered hundreds and thousands of innocents if he had any reason to do so," Jason growled, "The Lazarus Pit perverted his mind. Even you must see that."

"Lazarus Pit brought you back to life," Damian pointed out, "my grandfather didn't have to do that and yet…"

"Listen, kid! I didn't ask to be resurrected! Ra's al Ghul hoped to bring me back to life and create for himself the perfect soldier, which he failed to do. There was no moral virtue in it! Mere calculation and cold logic!"

"He is a great tactician."

"For fuck sake can you just please shut up!" Jason cast a warning glance, "your name is Wayne, isn't it! So think about it, who are you? Are you Damian Wayne, the son of Bruce Wayne? Or are you Demon Head descendant, grandson of Ra's al Ghul?"

"I'm both…" the confidence suddenly vanished from Damian's voice, giving way to downright childlike embarrassment.

"You can't be both," Jason stated, "You're smart kid, too smart for your own good. Think about it, can you really be both? You're here, with me, proudly wearing Robin's outfit, and at the same time you're bullshitting about how you don't like your father's tactics."

"I thought that who like who but you would understand…" Damian tried explaining quietly.

"I understand. But no matter how much I sometimes resent him, and how much I sometimes disagree with his approach, and how much I sometimes wish he would behave differently…." Jason hesitated for a moment and sighed heavily, "no matter how hard it is for me to admit it, but Batman is right."

"It's not like you Todd," Damian quipped.

"Maybe not," Jason admitted, "but sometimes you have to shove your pride up your ass and admit someone else is right."

"From a strategic point of view…" Damian began again in a haughty tone but Jason didn't let him finish. He stood up abruptly throwing a loud for fuck sake, then began to walk away at a quick pace. "Where are you going!" Damian called out after him, "Hood! Where are you going!?"

"Far away from here!"

"But Batman clearly…"

"Crane is obviously a no-show!" he turned on his heel to face his younger brother, "my ass froze to concrete! Fuck it! I'm outta here!"

"But Batman clearly gave us instructions!"

"If you want you can stay. Do I tell you to follow me," Jason growled.

"And where are you going!?"

"I'm going after Wing and Red."

***

Meanwhile, in another part of the city

The white light was hurting your eyes making keeping them open impossible. A huge lamp shone straight at your face, blinding you, hiding everything around you from sight. The light was irritating, causing your eyes to water. You wanted to push it away, smash it, you couldn't. You yanked with one hand, then the other, to no avail. You couldn't move. You moved your wrists and felt the material tightly wrapped around them. You tried to pull yourself up, you couldn't. You were weak, helpless. You wanted to speak but instead of words, a pitiful moan came out. You tried to scream but your voice seemed trapped in your throat. You were choking, the tube pushed deep down your throat made it impossible to breathe. Fright overwhelmed you completely. You tried to get up but someone's hand held you tight.

"She's waking up," came as if from afar.

"Too early…" replied another.

Stinging in the hollow of your hand, a burning sensation like acid spread through your veins. You cried out. Darkness followed.

*

You pulled yourself upright drenched in sweat. For a moment you lost your sense of time and space blinking intensely trying to find anker with reality.

"Breath steady, everything is fine, you are safe," Jonathan grabbed you gently by the shoulders and force you to look at him, "do you know where you are?" he asked softly.

"Yes…" you whispered anchoring yourself in his eyes, "we are in your laboratory."

"Good. Now breathe calmly," he instructed.

"Easier said than done," you chuckled, "since the accident I've been dreaming the same dream, alternating with other nightmares. Every goddamned night."

Jonathan handed you a glass of water and helped you sit down comfortably. You placed your bare feet on the soft carpet thus making sure you were not still dreaming. For a laboratory, the room you were in was uncharacteristically cozy. If it weren't for the medical equipment, ECG monitor and electroencephalogram you were hooked up to, you might have thought you were in a cozy living room with a curved chaise longue and soft fluffy carpet. The design was reminiscent of his office where you met regularly for weeks. Suspicion crept into your head at the realization that Crane had two nearly identical offices in two different parts of the city. Nevertheless, you didn't have time to dwell on it, you were here for another purpose.

"Tell me what you were dreaming about," he instructed in a gentle voice.

"It's hard to say…" you tried to gather your thoughts but your mind seemed as if behind a fog, "I was in some room, a hospital maybe? I couldn't see much because the lamp above my head was shining in my face, blinding me. I tried to struggle but I was tied up. I couldn't see but I think it was the operating table."

"That would explain the spikes on your EEG," he stated, looking at a printout from the machine, "what happened next?"

"I couldn't speak, I had an oxygen tube in my throat," you continued, "and there was someone else there. At least two people. I couldn't see their faces. One held me down and the other gave me the injection," you involuntarily touched the deepening in your arm and to your surprise you felt a small pinprick under your finger, "what the hell!"

"I had to give you a sedative because your heart was racing at over 200 beats per minute," Crane explained, seeing your shocked look.

"Then I woke up…"

"Continuing the test was a threat to your life, we can't risk that," he explained handing you two pills.

"What are those?" you asked uncertainly.

"I thought we trusted each other," green eyes glared above his glasses, "something to calm your heart rate and iron. I need to take your blood for testing," he explained before walking over to you, putting his hand on your shoulder and gently forcing you to lie down again, "relax," he smiled, "I promise to be gentle."

"You better!" you replied with a frail smile and straightened your right arm exposing a vein, "I have an important meeting tomorrow, I don't want to be forced to cover the bruises!"

"And what is this important meeting?" Crane asked tightly clenching the belt above the hollow of your arm.

"That's something you don't need to know about," you smirked, grimacing simultaneously when the needle pierced your skin, "and don't start again with confidence and full transparency! Some things I must keep to myself, and I assure you they have nothing to do with my problems."

"So sure you are able to assess that?" he glanced at you.

"Yup!" you smiled widely, "one hundred percent sure! My problems apparently come from the past and tomorrow's meeting has nothing to do with it."

"If you say so…" he relented while gently removing the needle from your hand, "all done. There's not even a trace."

"You're lucky!"

For a moment you watched the professor as he busied himself around the equipment. He tightly secured the blood vial and labeled it with a date sticker, tore the printouts off the machine and folded them methodically placing them in one of the drawers, then returned to you and began detaching you from the machine. First, he gently removed the sensor grid fitted on your head, carefully so as not to tug your hair, then proceeded to remove the electrodes from your chest and ribs. You watched him. Undressed from the waist up, lying in front of him in nothing but a bra, you didn't feel ashamed; after all, he was a doctor, and he also maintained complete professionalism, focusing his gaze alternately on the electrodes and on your eyes.

"I'd like you to add to your evening medications, two more," he informed, removing the last electrode and handing you your blouse, "one that will help you sleep better, and the other is simply iron."

"Am I to understand that we plan to draw my blood more often?"

"It is imperative. We are subjecting your body to a strong chemical influence. It's my duty to monitor the changes on a regular basis and react accordingly should anything alarming occur."

"Sure," you nodded in agreement and put on your blouse, "Do you think it happened?" you asked, then added upon noticing his puzzled look, "I mean my dream. Do you think it happened?"

"And what do you think?"

"I'm not sure…"

Jonathan only sat down next to you, looked deep into your eyes, and placed his hand on yours as if to assure you.

"We can't conclude anything after one session, but don't worry, I promised to help you didn't I?"

"That you did," you smirked in response. "Not like him…."

***

Contrary to popular opinion, which was often expressed by his boys, Batman did not like to always be right. For two weeks he kept returning to Arkham Asylum, for two weeks every night he hoped to finally find evidence that he was wrong. He hoped for it when he analyzed the breach in the wall in the Joker's cell that strangely reached toward the floor and below. He hoped for it when he forcibly interrogated the inmates, when he talked to the Arkham staff, when he surveyed Dr. Quinzel's office, when he calmly listened to the arguments of Warden Quincy Sharp, who tried at all costs to keep him out of the Penitentiary's lower levels. However, as he stood in the room hidden deep in the lower levels of Intensive Treatment, from which, as it turned out, the explosion had been initiated a few days ago, he could not help but feel disappointment, sadness even, that Y/N's faith in human goodness had lost in the battle against his suspicion of human intentions. "Perhaps if Y/N had arrived earlier in Gotham, Dr. Quinzel would have changed her plans in time, perhaps she would have turned back, perhaps she would not have made the choices she made…" he wondered.

The evidence was unmistakable, the breach in the wall, the traces of blood splattered on the floor, the bullet holes, the knocked-out teeth in the corner of the room that no one has cleaned up till now, the photos and plans hung on the wall, all of it left no doubt, that Y/N was right about one thing. Dr. Quinzel was a victim. A victim who, like all the others he passed along the way, had been harmed by the circumstances in which she found herself, by the man she met on her path, by the choices she made because of him. But instead of running away, instead of turning back, instead of seeking help, she gave in to madness.

"Are you getting this Oracle?" Batman murmured seemingly to himself, yet the voice in the earpiece answered almost immediately.

"Every single bit," Oracle confirmed, "enough evidence to convict her."

Batman squatted wordlessly over a fragment of the detonator that had not been destroyed but had merely flown off to the other end of the room during the explosion.

"I'm sending you more fingerprints for analysis…"

"Sloppy job," Barbara replied, analyzing the image from his camera displayed on the computer on the other side of the city, "the bomb must have been unstable, and constructed in haste, or without much knowledge, that's why the fuse flew off instead of being destroyed," she assessed with confidence, "Batman, those marks on the wall…. blood…"

"The pattern and direction of the spatter, as well as the amount of blood on the wall, suggests that the blows were inflicted with something very heavy and with a wide sweep…" Batman assessed as he stood up from his squat and approached the wall again.

"Could a petite woman have hit a large bodyguard with enough force to knock his teeth out?" Oracle questioned.

"You could," Batman noted, "And you wouldn't need a heavy tool to do it."

"True, but I was trained."

"We don't have enough information on Quinzel to be able to rule out training or the presence of a metagen. The evidence is clear," Batman straightened up and retreated to the entrance of the room placing himself in a way that allowed his eyes, and therefore the camera, to capture an accurate image and send it to the computer, "Dr. Quinzel used this room for months, maybe longer. On the day of the Arkham breakout, she came here from the main corridor of Intensive Treatment and detonated a charge placed on the east wall," he trailed his eyes to the breach.

"The fingerprints match…" Oracle interrupted him upon seeing the results of the analysis.

"Arkham's security guards must have known or at least suspected something because they resisted and tried to stop her," he ran his eyes over the wall, "shots were fired, I assume they were aimed at her…"

"Frank Nelson who was on shift that night is in a clinical coma, we can't verify that," Oracle's voice in the headset interrupted his thoughts, "his weapon was not found."

"It doesn't matter," Batman continued, "bullet marks on the wall suggest a tracking pattern. The guard fired, Quinzel dodged the bullets," he paused with his eyes on the traces of splattered blood, "she reduced the distance separating them and overpowered Nelson with a strong blow with a heavy tool made from a sweep, rendering him unconscious."

"Analysis of the tooth found matches dental records. Well, and there's also the fact that Nelson actually has several of them knocked out."

"We need to find her and stop her," Batman stated thus completing the analysis, "Oracle, give me a status update on Nightwing and Red Hood."

"Dick and Tim are in the Amusement Mile and Jason and Damian are on the move…" Barbara replied almost immediately, "Dick, report!" Batman heard a beep in his intercom and after a brief moment a second voice.

"Nightwing to Oracle. We have eyes on Quinzel. Over."

"Do not engage!" Batman spoke, "Stay out of site. Follow and observe. Hopefully, she will lead us to Joker."

"Copy that!" Nightwing confirmed.

"Dick! Consider her highly dangerous and be careful. If she tires to run, detain her."

*

On the way from Crane's office, you couldn't stop thinking about the situation you were in. Events followed one after another and it seemed you had no control over them. "This was supposed to be a new beginning, the beginning of a bright new future…" you recalled the optimistic thoughts that filled your mind when you first set foot in Gotham City. But Gotham City turned out to have other plans for you.

"How did I get here?" you wondered. Between the Joker and Harleen and Batman and Bruce Wayne, between near-death experiences and sessions with Professor Crane, in an endless loop of constantly recurring nightmares, attempts to contact Harleen and the bold decision to go out for dinner with Bruce Wayne. "What am I doing?" you questioned your choices while swallowing one of the green pills you got from Crane. This wasn't your style. Just a few weeks ago, the vision of seeing Bruce Wayne at the office gave you heart palpitations, and talking to him on the observation deck brought a strange excitement that you tried with all your might to hide. But when he mentioned a walk you didn't refuse because you were afraid, you refused because decency demanded it. And when he did not back down and invited you to dinner, you did not hesitate for a moment. There was no fear or anxiety in you against meeting with this powerful man even though logic told you that there should be. You felt good, confident.

Just as confident when Crane put his hand on yours and, while looking deep into your eyes, assured you that he would help you. You didn't run away with your eyes, you didn't took your hand away, you embraced it. "He will help me… I've got someone I can count on…" you thought, recalling in your mind his intense gaze, a gaze that was almost immediately banished by darkness and an ice-cold voice, "No. Leave it, or I'll have you arrested for obstructing the investigation."

Determined, fearless, you pulled the hood over your head and hid your face in the shadows, glancing one last time at the dark, extinguished "Amusement Mile" sign looming in the distance.

*

"Hood wait!" Damian shouted, following Jason with rushed steps. Jason was older, taller, and although Damian was much more agile, he moved much faster.

"Keep up kid!" Jason shouted as he saw the Amusement Mile sign faintly in the distance, "You don't want Wing and Red to have all the fun for themselves!"

"Don't call me a kid!"

Jason only laughed deeply, amused by his brother's reaction. They may have had different fathers and mothers, but to Jason, Damian was always the little brother. He had never told him this, but he hoped Damian understood it without mincing words. The grapple gun fired high and Jason soared, dragged through the air toward the tall buildings.

"Where the fuck are they…?" he asked quietly, landing softly on the roof, knowing that thanks to the intercom installed in his cowl, Damian would hear everything. He looked around trying to spot any movement, "Quiet…too quiet…" he muttered under his breath.

"Do you think they are not here?" Damian asked landing quietly next to him.

"I think they are…I think they are here. As well as Joker and his chick…"

"Hood, we should not abandon the task. Batman will…" Damian began but stopped mid-sentence. He climbed on his toes and fixed his gaze pointing wordlessly at the figure in the darkness.

"Bingo!"

*

Nightwing and Red Robin observed. Crouching in the darkness, hidden under the cover of the night, they sat on the roof and watched. Their perceptive ears picked up every murmur, their attentive eyes caught every slightest gesture Harleen made. Every glance at her watch, every glance at her phone screen, every methodical tweak of her hair, every affectionate pat on her bat.

"Someone is coming…" Tim said almost inaudibly, "can you hear?"

"Yup…" Dick nodded quietly, "be ready…"

Tim replied with a nod, pulling a Collapsible Bō Staff from behind his back.

"Multiple steps…. ambush?" Tim turned his head then left then right listening for movements.

"I think we might have overstayed our welcome…"

*

The surroundings were eerie. Abandoned buildings with broken windows bore no trace of their former decadence, the empty dark littered streets had long forgotten the joy and vibrancy of life. Even the street lights seemed dark and gloomy, as if trying to scare away stray wanderers. But you were not strayed. You walked confidently ahead with a steady step, minute by minute, decreasing the distance between you and the pin on the map. You wondered what you would say to your friend, what words would be appropriate? Will you contain your anger? Will you hold back your resentment? Will she do the same? What could you possibly say?

"Harleen?!" you stopped in half step shocked, "what the actual fuck?!"

"Call me Harley, everyone does!" Harleen turned on her heel displaying her new look and smiled broadly.

"No one calls you that!"

"You like my new outfit?!" she asked, running her hand over the tight-fitting red and black corset, "What am I saying! Of course, you do! Who wouldn't!"

"What the actual fuck…" you measured her with your eyes from top to bottom. Tight leather pants, corset, mid-waist jacket, baseball bat placed by her leg, gun at her thigh, tattoo on her forearm, all colored in black and red.

"I see you speechless! Imagine what Mr. J said when he saw his new and improved Harley Quinn!"

"Did you lose your goddamn mind!" you growled angrily not believing your eyes. Walking here you imagined that you would find Harleen miserable, weeping, and tormented, instead she looked thriving.

"Hey, no need to be mean ya know!"

"Fucker put the gun to my head!!!" you shouted and your voice echoed through the empty surroundings, "your boyfriend threatened me to blow my brains out and you telling me not to be mean!"

"Oh he was just joking with ya!" she brushed off, "ain't my fault that you never could take a joke!"

"A joke…" you gritted your teeth, narrowing the distance between you, "a joke?!"

"You see… Mr. J found your joke very funny! He was laughing all evening! So no hard feelings, forgive and forget!" she sounded infantile, modulating her voice in a playful way, "what ya think!? We can still be friends!"

"Harl…" you lowered your tone, "you need help. That maniac has you wrapped around his finger. I don't recognize you."

"Mr. J loves me! I don't need any help!"

"Harleen…" you looked at her seriously, "whatever that is I am sure it's not love…"

"You just say that cos you don't know him!" she grabbed you firmly by the forearm, "once you get to know him you'll see!"

You never thought Harleen had such strength in her. Ignoring your screams, she dragged you toward the entrance. You begged, fought, tried to struggle but she didn't listen. Singing cheerfully under her breath she dragged you towards the entrance.

"Let me go!!!"

"You know, I ain't even mad at you! You shouldn't be mad at me either!"

"Harleen, please! Let me help you! Come with me please!" you begged "Whatever he did to you we can fix this! I'm gonna help you! Just please come with me!"

"Mr. J always says….."

"I don't give a fuck about what Joker says!" you yanked your hand from her grasp, "just come with me!"

"You shouldn't say no to my invitation," she frowned, "Mr. J won't like that. He doesn't take no for an answer."

A swish cut through the air. Something metal flew past your head and hit Harleen right in the hand in which she was wielding a bat. She cursed foully.

"You brought them here!!!" she exclaimed furiously with a blazing look.

Jason didn't have to give any orders; he and Robin worked in perfect synergy. They jumped off the roof using the element of surprise and attacked. Batarang aimed at her hand stripping her of her grip on the bat giving Damian a split second to leap into the air and attack Harley. With one swift move, Jason pushed Y/N aside and attacked. Both he and Damian assumed a quick effortless fight but the Joker's new partner turned out to be much more skilled than they anticipated. She leaped back nimbly with two back flips, avoiding Robin's attacks, and delivered a powerful half-turn kick.

"Where is Joker!" Jason shouted furiously.

"Mr. J is not up for a visit! Especially not from a batshit crazies like you!" she chuckled angrily and swung aiming a punch.

Block, counter, punch. Jason delivered three quick, precise blows. Harleen groaned falling to the ground.

"Where is Joker?" he repeated the question, standing over her and crushing her hand to the ground with his boot as she tried to reach for her weapon. Harley groaned in pain. He had her. Weeks of searching were over. He may have defied Batman but he had caught the Joker's accomplice.

"Red Hood to Batman," he spoke into the intercom, "we apprehended Quinzel."

An unknown force lifted him into the air and threw him several feet away. His eyes darkened as he hit his head on the wall.

"Hood!" he heard Nightwing's voice in the distance. He opened his eyes again and saw an utterly hilarious image. Dick, Tim, and Damian trying to deal with two angry women.

Nightwing tried to reach out to Qiunn but Y/N stubbornly kept placing herself between them.

"Leave her alone! She needs help!" she shouted in Nightwing's face.

Tim and Damian attacked Quinn again. A big bat snatched from Y/N's hand flew above their heads trying to hit them. They dodged the attacks nimbly, one by one trying to counterattack. Aimed at Quinn's head, Damian's Batarang missed, Damian never missed. Tim attacked from behind Quinn's back but Y/N reached out in time and grabbed his cape sabotaging his attack.

"Wing would you mind!" Tim threw in the direction of Nightwing who was struggling with the girl.

"Harleen run!" she shouted.

She merely smiled broadly, reached behind her belt, and pointed her gun straight at Tim.

As if in slow motion, Jason watched the flash bounce off the metal, a wide Joker-like smile, her finger on the trigger…. He reached behind his belt and threw the Batarang with all his strength in Quinn's direction. He missed. He never missed either. The clang of metal. Y/N's terrified eyes and her two hands on Nigtwing's chest as she pushed him back with all her strength.

"Harleen don't!!!" she ordered with a shout, situating herself between the aimed weapon and the unaware Tim, "just don't…" she added more gently, "don't make choices that you won't be able to change…"

"You just made yours…" Harleen hissed angrily and dashed to escape.

*

Tim and Damian ran after her. They did not wait for permission or for the reactions of their older and more experienced brothers. They knew what they were doing. During the fight, during the mission, they worked seamlessly with each other. Jason watched them disappear behind a closed door and for a moment considered running after them.

"Hood!" Nightwing called out in his direction, "you good?!"

"Yeah yeah…" he muttered gathering himself from the ground. He knew very well that this question was only there to redirect his attention, "What the hell happened?"

"That is a good question…" Nightwing glanced meaningfully at Y/N who was still struggling in his grasp. Despite her hands twisted to the back held with little force she yanked and pulled in an attempt to free herself from his grip, "please stop. You gonna hurt yourself."

"Let me go!" she hissed fiercely.

"I cannot do that…"

"You are hurting me!"

"Then stop yanking…"

"But Harleen…"

"She made her choice."

"Oh, you are as stubborn as he is!!!"

"Who? Batman?"

"Let go of me!"

"If you try to run I'll stop you…"

"I won't…" she replied but as soon as Nightwing loosened his grip she threw herself running towards the building.

"Where do you think you're going?" Jason asked blocking her way.

"Oh for fuck sake!!! How many of you is there!" she boiled with frustration.

"How come I flew over a hundred feet and hit a wall?" he asked, ignoring her curses.

"I don't know, fucking magic!" she growled, "get out of my way!"

"Is she always like that?!" he asked Nightwing ignoring her completely.

"Last time she was more unsteady on her feet but just as fierce," Nightwing countered in his characteristic playful tone, "are you done?" he turned to Y/N, "we won't let you in."

"But Harleen, she needs…"

"Yes, yes she needs your help yatty yatty yatta…" Red Hood sneered, "you want to go get yourself killed by all means!" he taunted stepping off her way. She, however, did not move. The door to the building opened and Batman emerged from the darkness. He measured her with a stern look and, without taking his eyes off her, spoke.

"Quinzel is gone, Joker was never here," he informed, "the building was a decoy. Two additional exits with quick access. Robin and Red are searching the place."

"Now it's Quinn, Harley Quinn apparently," Nightwing informed him.

"Are you trying to get yourself killed?" Batman turned to Y/N, "You ask me to believe in your innocence and yet I keep finding you in compromising situations."

"I wanted to help her," Y/N began uncertainly only to look at him furiously a moment later and add in a raised voice, "I wanted to help her because you refused to help me!"

"I think I like her…" Jason muttered to Nightwing quietly.

"I asked you to help me! Didn't I! I gave you my reasons, explained my point of view, and asked for help and you said no!!!" she shouted furiously standing at arm's length in front of Batman, "so don't fucking act all surprised that I decided to act on my own!"

"I definitely like her..." Jason grinned under his mask.

"I also said that I'll have you arrested for interfering with the case…" Batman reminded her.

"Then please!" she held out both hands in front of him, "Arrest me!"

For a moment they stood like that. Y/N and Batman in uninterrupted eye contact as if they were fighting each other without words. As if they were challenging each other, soundlessly questioning each other's choices. Jason and Dick were just observing but they too didn't need to exchange words to know what each was thinking. Both were amused and curious by the unfolding situation.

"You have to come with me," Batman finally broke the silence but did not cuff her hands. He only turned around and started walking toward the district exit.

"Hey, I was just kidding…" Y/N chuckled nervously and yet she sped up her pace to catch up with him.

"I'm not arresting you."

"Then why do I have to go with you?"

"You need to see something."

***

Chapter seven: Choices that shape the future

~~***~~

Author note: Well...I got carried away with words. Oops? As I started to write this chapter I had only two major bits to hit and story, well it just happened. Is unfolded as I wrote it, and I had to make sure that it will all come together. I hope it did cos I won't lie, I really really loved this chapter. Mostly because I got an opportunity to more light on beloved Batfamily! Oh, I so love them all and it is a crime that Batfamily is so ignored in the mass media and popular big blockbuster movies! Batman, there is no Batman without his Robins, without his whole family. So right from the beginning, I knew I wanted to bring Batfamily to this story. I wouldn't have it any other way. Hope you enjoyed this very very long chapter! I'm hitting "publish" and starting to work on next chapter :) I've got a feeling it's gonna have more fluff to it. Thank you all for your interactions and shares! I truly appreciate that. And as always Dear Reader, I thank you for reading.

~~***~~

Tag list:@clown-princesa @theclassicvinyldragon @blondwhowrites @batgirlspain @hangmanscoming

[ghostat7am]

"Care for a bug?"

Trying to get more comfortable showing my other Crygors since I actually have eight of them but Diverged is the most beloved. So introducing the Crygor I'm the most self conscious of DKJJGN

Meet Dr. Kilrait and his critters Selene and Mauve! They're actually much bigger and tower over Kilrait, just wanted to draw them little and small

(you can see the decrease in quality as I became more and more self conscious about them SGKGH)

This au everyone is assigned a creature that people deem as scary or undesirable. Crygor (named Kilrait) is a snake, Orbulon (named Selene) is a mosquito and Mike (named Mauve) is a tarantula. It doesn't really have a story, it's mainly a series of bizarre and horror-inspired scenarios. But there is some backstory

(Character descriptions + basic backstories. CW for near death mentions & mistreatment/implied ab*se for Selene)

Dr. Kilrait (he/him - name pending) is this world's Crygor, based off a Malayan Krait, he's a happy go lucky and affectionate doctor who specialises in surgery and entomology. He cares for his patients amazingly and has extraordinary talents, he aims to change the future of humanity and make the world a better place.

However, he's hiding something underneath- he was born with the inability to feel pain or fear, attempting to change his own biology to the point of obsession. In attempt to gain these feelings, he has begun experiments where he puts healthy and consenting participants into near death situations to monitor and try to mimic their reactions. He truly has no ill intent and makes sure these patients are completely safe during & after these tests, paying for treatment for any mental trauma they may recieve from such tests- he just feels incomplete and wrong without feeling these "truly human" emotions and he'll do anything to change it, even if it means tearing his life to shreds to achieve it.

Mauve (he/him) is Dr. Kilrait's mechanical Metallic Blue Tarantula son and this world's Mike, created to ease the ever-growing internal isolation and loneliness his creator suffers from. Typically very cynical and a skeptic, but aids his father without question. Trusts his dad's every word with no further thought or hesitation since he is Mauve's only window to human society. He may seem cold, but truly he's also quite loving like his father- however he's far less doting, Kilrait is extremely doting towards anyone he goes attached to but especially Mauve. He's all Kilrait has...

A few years ago, Mauve offered himself as a test subject to ensure the equipment for Kilrait's fear tests were safe for human. Everything was going well until something malfunctioned and almost ended the robot, this was the closest Kilrait has felt true terror as he cradled his son's injured body. He is physically okay, but it has left a mental scar on them both - causing Kilrait to only become more protective.

Selene (they/them) is Mauve's spouse and this world's Orbulon, based off a mosquito, they are very snide and vindictive. Suffering from extreme trust issues due to past mistreatment and pain, taught to be a vampire and drain others of their life (literally and emotionally/mentally) - but their cruel nature encases a gentle and affectionate soul, Mauve is slowly cracking away at their shell so they can finally be themselves again without paranoia.

After being left to rot by one they considered to be their true love, Selene decided to close themselves off to never suffer like that again, turning to tormenting others to ease their unpleasant feelings and began working in shady business in disguises. One night, Selene encountered Mauve while attempting to dig dirt up on Kilrait for a paying client, attempting to scare information out of the spider- they were only met with lighthearted amusement and friendly gestures, catching Selene completely off guard. It turned into a pleasant conversation between them and Selene decided to not ruin Kilrait's life for Mauve's sake. Afterwards, they kept meeting up and eventually fell in love as Mauve gently lowered their walls.