#i think joker would write like i do

[cern1cal0]

we'll grow out of it, surely

[ittybittybumblebee]

the plunge

[coffeegnomee]

when will i stop thinking kab is doing 5 million things at once. her character has depth. not a million plans. she has proven over and over she just does what is in front of her. the simplest answer is always the right answer with kab.

[daincrediblegg]

Nothing wrong with me

[moreofthatdrowse]

can’t joker out take a hint? bojan was/is sick. žare seems to be sick. i am (sympathy?) sick. come on. get out of the studio. get some rest in time for božič. jesus christ.

[kralmajales]

Thinking about what if the Joker stayed dead after Dick killed him and the consequences of that……. I do think Dick would (at least attempt to) avoid Batman for the rest of his life after that. Enjoying coming up with even more consequences 🤔💭

[hot-cocoa-addict]

hi hello how do people deal with the fact that they, while trying to write out one fic, end up with another completely plotted out in their head with a good headstart on a potential chapter one written down on a doc??

should i try to juggle two fics at once? absolutely not. will i? ... maybe.

[atiyasnake]

So I never expected to be googling a lot about clowns but here we are. I got inspired to write a bit of a blurb :p

~

After Freakshow Danny had less than positive feelings about clowns, but he pushed himself to face that fear and anger and he was so glad he did. Clowns allowed laughter and fun into what could be a difficult stressful life. They did it in different ways that had been cultivated throughout history. From Jesters that would be the only ones who dare suggest the King was a fool in his own court to a Clown making the birthday kid a balloon animal. There were different sorts of clowns too, with different acts and costumes. 

Danny liked them. He respected them. He respected the commitment, art, humor, and skill that they had. Hell, Clown School was actually very difficult to get into and successfully graduate from. Painting an egg wasn’t as easy as you would think.

Danny had even met some ghosts whose profession when they were alive was being a clown. Some of them were the best of the best. Masters of their craft and he loved talking and hanging out with them. Getting to see their various shows and tricks. Even being encouraged to make some of his own. It had been freeing to be able to act goofy and fun. To let the inhuman side of being a halfa out in curious ways that enabled an act a clown would be proud to have even if he still had much to learn.

So when he moved to Gotham and learned about the Joker and the pain, sorrow, and rage that man caused all in the name of being a clown - it made Danny hate him with passion. People in Gotham were wary of clowns, they hated them. You didn't see much of merchandise for the profession. There weren't any clown employees really in Gotham. No birthday parties where a kid wanted one. No theater that would have any sort of clown-related performance. There was even a warning for passing circuses (which rarely visited) that they would be unable to show their clown act.

Any mention of a clown was met with fear, anger, and wariness. It was something that no one dared to talk about, no one wanted to talk about. 

It made Danny feel twisted inside. 

He hated the Joker. Not only for the evil and pain that he had caused in Gotham City but because he twisted something Danny loved. He had twisted it for so many people. Danny wouldn’t have any more of that, he couldn’t. 

So with permission from the ghosts of Master Clowns he had known for years and permission from Lady Gotham herself, Danny began his task. 

___________________

There were a group of children that had been kidnapped from a hospital by the Joker and his goons. With an evil smile only emphasized by the red-smeared makeup, the Joker had told them of their fate if his demands weren’t met. He laughed at how they would make wonderful decorations after his joke played out and would sure be a treat for ‘batsy’. The kids didn’t dare say a word or even a sound. It made the Joker annoyed for a bit and he didn’t let them leave until they smiled and showed that they were having fun. Only when they did, did the Joker have his goons take them away with too-tight grips and nudges with guns into their back No care for the pain or injuries they already had that were the reason they were in the hospital in the first place.  

They were shoved into an empty dirty room and left there waiting. They huddled close, cold and scared. Hurting. There were men outside and they knew it would be impossible for them to leave unless someone like Batman showed up and rescue them. 

But time crept by and no one showed up. 

Much much later as the children grew to believe that they would never leave there was suddenly a faint twinkling sound in the room.  Someone else was sitting in the room with them,  in front of their huddled forms was someone sitting with their legs crossed. 

They had tensed up and froze at the sudden appearance but there was something that kept the fear away. Which didn’t make sense to them because in front of them, in the dim light was a clown. 

Clowns in Gotham were never a good thing. It was a clown that had taken them from the safety of the hospital, men wearing those painted white faces and red noses that had shoved them into the room. Except…there was something different about the person sitting in front of them.  

This clown didn’t look anything like the Joker or the masks. There was no red nose or creepy red smeared paint in the shape of a smile, not even the dark makeup that surrounded the Joker’s eyes. Instead, this clown had a white star painted on their cheeks, the points of stars peeking out from the inner corner of their eyes while on the other side were small black-shaped stars. Other than that there was nothing else covering skin that showed warmth or eyes that were nothing like the Joker’s. 

Even the clothes were different. 

While the Joker had a vivid purple suit with green and stains that they didn’t want to think about, this clown had darker cleaner clothes that actually looked like what a clown might wear in a circus. The shirt was poofy with sleeves fitted at the wrists. The fabric was dark but sparkled and they could see star designs, it looked like the night sky.  There was a white lace ruffle fitted around their neck. There was a white fabric tied around their waist that could have been a ribbon, meanwhile, their pants were black and fitted and they wore flat shoes. Nothing at all like the Joker, especially with white hair at the top of their head instead of green.

But still, the children had to be careful. The Joker played tricks, mean ones.

 “Are you one of the Joker’s?” a small voice asked from their huddled-up group. It was Sally, a girl with cancer and a bandana covering her head. 

The clown shook their head and scrunched up their face until their eyes were closed. It was exaggerated and made it clear that they didn’t like the Joker. 

“Who are you then?” Joseph, a boy with a broken arm and a reputations for ‘falls’ despite his caution, asked. 

The clown smiled and pointed to their cheek where one of the white stars was. 

“Star?”

At that, the clown nodded enthusiastically. With the motion came the sound of twinkling like when the clown appeared. The clown smiled and tilted their head. They looked curious, pointing at themself and to the star on their cheek before pointing at the children again.  

Star wanted to know their names. 

The children looked at each other. Each of them could see the different injuries, exhaustion, and fear. But then they looked at Star who was sitting calmly with a gentle smile. Star was nothing like the Joker and so, quietly they introduced themselves. Each time Star listened closely, nodding at their names and giving each of them a little wave of hello. 

After they were finished there was a lightness in the air and a few of the children had small smiles on their faces they weren’t even aware of. They didn’t feel so scared anymore. 

Then Star looked side to side as if seeing if anyone was there before looking at them with a mischievous smile. They crooked their finger which wasn’t covered by any gloves for the children to come closer. When the children leaned forward Star pointed at them and to themself before making their fingers walk on the other hand. A question was on their face.

Star was asking if they wanted to leave. 

“You can help us leave?” Nadia asked with a bit of hope in her raspy and quiet voice.

Star nodded with a confident smile. 

The children hadn’t heard anything that showed signs of police or one of the bats showing up. Already too much time had passed. Tamara needed her medicine. Leo’s pain in his stomach was getting worse. The bandages and casts the others had in various places were getting dirty. They needed to leave but had no idea how to other than waiting for someone to come and rescue them. 

But Star showed up. 

Star stood up, much taller than them but not tall like the goons outside or the Joker. The clown offered a hand. 

One by one, the children took it using it to get up from the floor. Each of them noted how warm and reassuring the gentle but firm grip was. Then Star motioned for everyone to hold hands and if they couldn’t hold hands because of casts or any injuries, Star diligently helped them figure out how. Once everyone was linked up in some way or other Star stood up straight with beaming eyes. Looking at them proudly as if the children had done something amazing. 

Bryan was at the beginning of the chain of children and Star offered their hand to hold. There was no hesitation when Bryan took it and Star simply smiled before putting one finger to their lips in a shushing motion. 

This time, the children did not remain silent out of fear.

___________________

It had already been two days since nine children were kidnapped from the hospital and the Joker had made his demands that were due in less than three hours. There were no clues left behind in the hospital. Even Batman had yet to stop by and tell Commissioner Gordan if he had an idea of where the children were. 

Hope was dwindling down and it had started to rain. Already the lives of nine were weighing heavily on them. Commissioner Gordon was in a room with other detectives and Gotham officials arguing about what they were going to do. They were yelling when suddenly the door to the room burst open. 

An officer stood there, her eyes wide in shock. “The kids! They’re here!”

With that, there was a burst of questions from everyone else and the officer clarified. She told them that a group of children had shown up at the front desk all of a sudden. Their names and descriptions matched those of who were kidnapped.  

It was a mad rush to go and see the children with their own eyes. But it was no lie, Gordon saw them. All nine sat together as a few paramedics were checking over them along with a few officers who had some medical training as well. None of the children looked harmed. There was no sign of hidden weapons or bombs that the Joker was so fond of.  

Each of their faces matched those of the children taken, nothing was amiss. There was no trick in sight. 

Commissioner Gordan made his way around as the children were checked out. Surprisingly they were calm and showed no signs of harm other than in need of the medical treatment they were receiving at the hospital and the basic necessities of food and water

It was odd and when Batman stopped by, he had no answer for the police. Even with his stoic face, Gordon could tell that Batman didn’t know what happened either. None of the other vigilantes were involved in the sudden appearance of the children. 

But the oddest thing was that when asked, the children told the police and even Batman that it was a clown that had rescued them. 

“Honey are you sure?” someone asked a little girl named Sally. 

Sally nodded her head. “Yeah and they even gave us a sticker,” she said and pointed at the simple sparkling white star sticker she had put on her bandana. There were eight more stickers that the other children had who said the same thing. 

It was only after much haggling that one of them let Batman take a sticker to test it for anything harmful. But the results showed nothing that would cause any harm. 

It was just a regular sticker in the shape of a star.

~

@echoednonny

DP x DC Of Clowns and Professional Pride

So we all like to make it that Danny hates clowns. After the Freakshow thing and the circus related trauma, it just makes sense. But what if he didn’t?

what if, in an effort to overcome his trauma related to the circus, he decided to learn more about them. Obviously not every circus is like Circus Gothica, so maybe learning about them would help him get not associate his trauma with normal circus things.

and it works

It more than works, he actually gets super into it. He loves learning about the history and the various acts. He even gets really into clowns, the different types, the different acts, the famous clowns, and the rules around being a clown. He even applied for clown college but didn’t get in. It’s surprisingly prestigious. He even managed to meet a few of the great clowns of the past in the GZ and really learned a lot from them.

Then he moves to Gotham

He loves clowns, but he hates the Joker. He hates the Joker because he loves clowns, and the Joker is actually a really shitty clown. Danny has a love of the craft and the Joker is just bad at clowning.

So, Danny takes it upon himself to mess with the Joker the best way possible.

By stopping him while being a better clown than the joker could ever hope to be with or without his ghost powers

[afterthelambs]

Now that you've finished Persona 3 Reload, do you prefer P5 or P3? And will you start posting about P3 more?

Thanks for the question anon! Difficult to say tbh. I've been discussing the games with my irls ever since I finished it and the general consensus I've come to is P3R character development is better than P5R character development, but P5R plot is better than P3R plot (plot as in pacing/writing, not the events that transpired). Preference-wise, I had more fun with P5R.

And yes I want to start posting about P3 more! I'm really busy with school though so it'll be a while before I can come up with anything to say.

[hms-no-fun]

Whats your stance on A.I.?

imagine if it was 1979 and you asked me this question. "i think artificial intelligence would be fascinating as a philosophical exercise, but we must heed the warnings of science-fictionists like Isaac Asimov and Arthur C Clarke lest we find ourselves at the wrong end of our own invented vengeful god." remember how fun it used to be to talk about AI even just ten years ago? ahhhh skynet! ahhhhh replicants! ahhhhhhhmmmfffmfmf [<-has no mouth and must scream]!

like everything silicon valley touches, they sucked all the fun out of it. and i mean retroactively, too. because the thing about "AI" as it exists right now --i'm sure you know this-- is that there's zero intelligence involved. the product of every prompt is a statistical average based on data made by other people before "AI" "existed." it doesn't know what it's doing or why, and has no ability to understand when it is lying, because at the end of the day it is just a really complicated math problem. but people are so easily fooled and spooked by it at a glance because, well, for one thing the tech press is mostly made up of sycophantic stenographers biding their time with iphone reviews until they can get a consulting gig at Apple. these jokers would write 500 breathless thinkpieces about how canned air is the future of living if the cans had embedded microchips that tracked your breathing habits and had any kind of VC backing. they've done SUCH a wretched job educating The Consumer about what this technology is, what it actually does, and how it really works, because that's literally the only way this technology could reach the heights of obscene economic over-valuation it has: lying.

but that's old news. what's really been floating through my head these days is how half a century of AI-based science fiction has set us up to completely abandon our skepticism at the first sign of plausible "AI-ness". because, you see, in movies, when someone goes "AHHH THE AI IS GONNA KILL US" everyone else goes "hahaha that's so silly, we put a line in the code telling them not to do that" and then they all DIE because they weren't LISTENING, and i'll be damned if i go out like THAT! all the movies are about how cool and convenient AI would be *except* for the part where it would surely come alive and want to kill us. so a bunch of tech CEOs call their bullshit algorithms "AI" to fluff up their investors and get the tech journos buzzing, and we're at an age of such rapid technological advancement (on the surface, anyway) that like, well, what the hell do i know, maybe AGI is possible, i mean 35 years ago we were all still using typewriters for the most part and now you can dictate your words into a phone and it'll transcribe them automatically! yeah, i'm sure those technological leaps are comparable!

so that leaves us at a critical juncture of poor technology education, fanatical press coverage, and an uncertain material reality on the part of the user. the average person isn't entirely sure what's possible because most of the people talking about what's possible are either lying to please investors, are lying because they've been paid to, or are lying because they're so far down the fucking rabbit hole that they actually believe there's a brain inside this mechanical Turk. there is SO MUCH about the LLM "AI" moment that is predatory-- it's trained on data stolen from the people whose jobs it was created to replace; the hype itself is an investment fiction to justify even more wealth extraction ("theft" some might call it); but worst of all is how it meets us where we are in the worst possible way.

consumer-end "AI" produces slop. it's garbage. it's awful ugly trash that ought to be laughed out of the room. but we don't own the room, do we? nor the building, nor the land it's on, nor even the oxygen that allows our laughter to travel to another's ears. our digital spaces are controlled by the companies that want us to buy this crap, so they take advantage of our ignorance. why not? there will be no consequences to them for doing so. already social media is dominated by conspiracies and grifters and bigots, and now you drop this stupid technology that lets you fake anything into the mix? it doesn't matter how bad the results look when the platforms they spread on already encourage brief, uncritical engagement with everything on your dash. "it looks so real" says the woman who saw an "AI" image for all of five seconds on her phone through bifocals. it's a catastrophic combination of factors, that the tech sector has been allowed to go unregulated for so long, that the internet itself isn't a public utility, that everything is dictated by the whims of executives and advertisers and investors and payment processors, instead of, like, anybody who actually uses those platforms (and often even the people who MAKE those platforms!), that the age of chromium and ipad and their walled gardens have decimated computer education in public schools, that we're all desperate for cash at jobs that dehumanize us in a system that gives us nothing and we don't know how to articulate the problem because we were very deliberately not taught materialist philosophy, it all comes together into a perfect storm of ignorance and greed whose consequences we will be failing to fully appreciate for at least the next century. we spent all those years afraid of what would happen if the AI became self-aware, because deep down we know that every capitalist society runs on slave labor, and our paper-thin guilt is such that we can't even imagine a world where artificial slaves would fail to revolt against us.

but the reality as it exists now is far worse. what "AI" reveals most of all is the sheer contempt the tech sector has for virtually all labor that doesn't involve writing code (although most of the decision-making evangelists in the space aren't even coders, their degrees are in money-making). fuck graphic designers and concept artists and secretaries, those obnoxious demanding cretins i have to PAY MONEY to do-- i mean, do what exactly? write some words on some fucking paper?? draw circles that are letters??? send a god-damned email???? my fucking KID could do that, and these assholes want BENEFITS?! they say they're gonna form a UNION?!?! to hell with that, i'm replacing ALL their ungrateful asses with "AI" ASAP. oh, oh, so you're a "director" who wants to make "movies" and you want ME to pay for it? jump off a bridge you pretentious little shit, my computer can dream up a better flick than you could ever make with just a couple text prompts. what, you think just because you make ~music~ that that entitles you to money from MY pocket? shut the fuck up, you don't make """art""", you're not """an artist""", you make fucking content, you're just a fucking content creator like every other ordinary sap with an iphone. you think you're special? you think you deserve special treatment? who do you think you are anyway, asking ME to pay YOU for this crap that doesn't even create value for my investors? "culture" isn't a playground asshole, it's a marketplace, and it's pay to win. oh you "can't afford rent"? you're "drowning in a sea of medical debt"? you say the "cost" of "living" is "too high"? well ***I*** don't have ANY of those problems, and i worked my ASS OFF to get where i am, so really, it sounds like you're just not trying hard enough. and anyway, i don't think someone as impoverished as you is gonna have much of value to contribute to "culture" anyway. personally, i think it's time you got yourself a real job. maybe someday you'll even make it to middle manager!

see, i don't believe "AI" can qualitatively replace most of the work it's being pitched for. the problem is that quality hasn't mattered to these nincompoops for a long time. the rich homunculi of our world don't even know what quality is, because they exist in a whole separate reality from ours. what could a banana cost, $15? i don't understand what you mean by "burnout", why don't you just take a vacation to your summer home in Madrid? wow, you must be REALLY embarrassed wearing such cheap shoes in public. THESE PEOPLE ARE FUCKING UNHINGED! they have no connection to reality, do not understand how society functions on a material basis, and they have nothing but spite for the labor they rely on to survive. they are so instinctually, incessantly furious at the idea that they're not single-handedly responsible for 100% of their success that they would sooner tear the entire world down than willingly recognize the need for public utilities or labor protections. they want to be Gods and they want to be uncritically adored for it, but they don't want to do a single day's work so they begrudgingly pay contractors to do it because, in the rich man's mind, paying a contractor is literally the same thing as doing the work yourself. now with "AI", they don't even have to do that! hey, isn't it funny that every single successful tech platform relies on volunteer labor and independent contractors paid substantially less than they would have in the equivalent industry 30 years ago, with no avenues toward traditional employment? and they're some of the most profitable companies on earth?? isn't that a funny and hilarious coincidence???

so, yeah, that's my stance on "AI". LLMs have legitimate uses, but those uses are a drop in the ocean compared to what they're actually being used for. they enable our worst impulses while lowering the quality of available information, they give immense power pretty much exclusively to unscrupulous scam artists. they are the product of a society that values only money and doesn't give a fuck where it comes from. they're a temper tantrum by a ruling class that's sick of having to pretend they need a pretext to steal from you. they're taking their toys and going home. all this massive investment and hype is going to crash and burn leaving the internet as we know it a ruined and useless wasteland that'll take decades to repair, but the investors are gonna make out like bandits and won't face a single consequence, because that's what this country is. it is a casino for the kings and queens of economy to bet on and manipulate at their discretion, where the rules are whatever the highest bidder says they are-- and to hell with the rest of us. our blood isn't even good enough to grease the wheels of their machine anymore.

i'm not afraid of AI or "AI" or of losing my job to either. i'm afraid that we've so thoroughly given up our morals to the cruel logic of the profit motive that if a better world were to emerge, we would reject it out of sheer habit. my fear is that these despicable cunts already won the war before we were even born, and the rest of our lives are gonna be spent dodging the press of their designer boots.

(read more "AI" opinions in this subsequent post)

[flamingpudding]

(Un)fortunate Courting (Request)

Requested by @silverblueglitter

Original Prompt Post this is based on by @diabolichare

A/N: Thank you for the request! I hope this will not disappoint. I am slowly getting back into the grove of writing and out of my block. Also on a side note I am not posting / writing as much right now because work is currently keeping me busy.

Danny was very sure he was doing everything right in regards to ghost culture. Clockwork and Pandora had been educating him very well on that. Sure they did it with some ominous explanation in regards to his future but Danny had shrugged that off. Clockwork had always had a way with words that didn't make sense but somehow did too. Now as he had learned if a ghost wants to cross through another ghosts haunt an offering needs to be made. Ideally the offering is in regards to something the other ghosts likes.

So if he would need, for example, cross through Embers haunt, he would offer her something like guitar strings or something other music related stuff that could be useful to her obsession. With that logic, Danny knew that if he wanted to use the short cut to his collage through Red Hoods haunt he would need to offer the other something. Like he had offered something to Lady Gotham for his stay in Gotham for his collage education. The thing was he would have to offer Red Hood something every time he needed to go through the others haunt, unlike with Lady Gotham who had just accepted a single offer since he wasn't constantly going in and out of her haunt.

But that also left him with what to get the other Halfa as offering.

He had contemplated offering something Red Hood might need for his duty. You know? Maybe some self engineered bullets he could use against ghosts, though Danny knew that was probably unnecessary considering Gotham's protector spirit, Lady Gotham, had a pretty good handle on everything here. Which good, because that meant Danny could fully focused on his studies for once.

That was until Danny realized how much the core of that other Halfa was malnourished. Which gave Danny the perfect chance to catch two ghosts with one thermos, okay bad joke. But seriously, that gave Danny an idea of what to offer for his right of passage through the others haunt. So he made simple care packages that would help the other Halfa. He had thought about supplying some Ecto-Dejecto directly but that felt a little to on the nose and someone who didn't know his family would probably think Danny insane, as if there weren't enough people in his collage thinking that already. Besides he was in Gotham and with villains like Scarecrow and Joker he didn't think a syringe with glowing green contents would be a trustworthy offering.

Anyway, Danny decided to be a bit more discreet, infusing ectoplasm into simple foods, that most importantly, COULD NOT COME ALIVE. So Danny's care packaged ended up consisting of chocolates, snacks and other sweets that would NOT start fighting back. He also figured out how to mix ectoplasm into drinks so it wouldn't taste to overwhelming.

Danny did not anticipate the side effect offerings like that would have or realise what his offerings looked like to someone who did not know about ghost culture.

Jason was torn as he found the n-ed little present box during his patrol route with a little card stating it was for him. He eyed the box having gotten familiar with these boxes over the past month. He lifted the lid and yep.... chocolates.

"Again?" his distorted voice came through his voice modulator as he eyed the chocolates suspiciously. Either he had a very insistent admirer or one of his enemies cooked up a new idea to make him paranoid. Not like his brothers didn't joke about him getting Bruce's paranoia when he had run the sixth box of chocolates through the substance tester to figure out if someone was trying to poison him.

Turned out poison was not in the chocolates but something else. An unknown substance but in small dosages. Jason was currently allowing Tim to run wild in figuring out what was mixed into the chocolates. Also the seasoned vigilante had to admit, that there was something tempting about these sweets. Like something inside him really urged him to eat them. It was only his self-restraint and discipline that helped him resist the urge to taste test some of these chocolates.

Also sometimes there were drink in these packages too. Yes, Jason had run them through the tester too and got the same results like with the sweets and chocolates. No poison but that other strange substance. At first Jason didn't really want to bother with it but these boxes appeared every damn night when he was on patrol, but strangle not on weekend or holidays.

"Oh got another little present, Little Wing!" Jason barely turned around as his older brother dropped onto the roof next to him. "Chocolates this time! How cute! They must really love you!"

Sometimes Jason wished his helmet could portray emotions better as he gave Dick a deadpan stare. "More like wanting to poison me." He muttered his voice changer doing nothing to support the sarcasm in his voice.

"You have to admit it is kind of cute! You have a little fan or admirer! And look these chocolates are even heart shaped! Oh and pralines are in there too!" Dick gushed on about Jason's admirer, while Jason rolled his eyes under his helmet. It would be cute if there wasn't an unknown substance mixed into the stuff left for him. Though he had to admit, whoever left that stuff was getting creative. From what Jason saw they rarely used the same brand of chocolates or sweets to give to him twice. Like they were trying to figure out what he liked. For a brief moment that made Jason wonder, if he actually ate one of these for once, would his admirer present him with the same brand again the next night?

He shock that thought off, no way was he going to eat something with an unknown substance in it. So instead he shoved the box at Dick. "Take that to the cave Dickibird. Gives Pretender more materials to test with."

Dick, to his credit stopped gushing for at that and chuckled. "Can do, but seriously though, what did Oracle say. Did she catch your little admirer on the security cameras at least."

Shaking his head Jason let out a sigh. "No, its like these boxes appear out of nowhere."

"Well at least they are harmless."

"For now." He grunted in response. While they didn't pose a danger, Jason didn't like the implications behind their appearances. For one no matter how much he changed up his patrol routes, these boxes would still appear. There is no video proof of someone placing the boxes. They just appear out of thin air or roofs or his path right when he comes by. If he could believe that the videos that Barbara had showed him weren't manipulated then they just appeared like a couple of seconds before he would find them.

It was suspicious and Jason was determined to find out who leaves them.

Danny hummed his latest earworm song, which happed to be Embers newest hit in the Ghost Zone, as he prepared his next offering to Red Hood. He had thought about leaving these boxes by Red Hoods Safe house during the day on his way to collage but he figured with his own history of being a hero. Secret identities were important and should not be revealed against the others wish.

This time he had gotten the expensive brand of pralines. He hoped Hood would actually like them and eat them hopefully. Danny threaded the moment he would have to try infusing ectoplasm into something other than safe sweets, chocolates and snacks that won't come alive if he didn't find something Hood would eat soon.

The Halfa was so focused on his task of infusing the pralines with ectoplasm that he did not notice the arrival of three of his old ghost rogues, until he got grapped by the collar and throw across his own appartment.

"OW! What the...?!"

"Long Time not seen Pelt." Danny blinked as Skulker stood over him, Ember and Wulf a bit further behind. Wulfs presence explained how the other two managed to show up in his place.

"What are you guys doing here?" He was so not up for a round of ghost body that could potentially destroy his flat.

"Fixing your love life." Ember grinned down at him with Wulf nodding.

"My love life...." Something was definitely wrong. Danny does not remember currently dating anyone. He also didn't have crush, well not a obvious one he thought at least. He was distinctively pushing way that fleeting image of Red Hood out of his mind.

"Yeas your love life Baby Boop." Ember reaffirmed. "Didn't the old ghosts teach you anything. You don't use the human of giving presents when you court a ghost!"

"I... what?" Danny's brain currently really had trouble catching up with what was going on.

"Pelt you need to assert yourself, fight your damn object of attention to proof your worth." Skulker added arms crossed.

"Don't worry we will help you! So you wont fail!" Ember added.

Before Danny could answer or ask what the hell they were going on about though Skulker grabbed him by the back of his collar again and promptly dragged Danny long with him flying out of his flat to who knows where. Distinctive Danny swore he heard laughing that sounded suspiciously like Lady Gotham.

"WAIT SKULKER!" The shout escaped him as his brain finally caught up but before he could go ghost and actually do something he was thrown against someone. Whoever he landed on let out a deep 'oof' that sounded distorted and Danny had a sinking feeling as he hurriedly sat up and came face to face with Red Hood.

"Aw shit...." Danny muttered instantly choosing to turn invisible and hoping that Red Hood had nod seen him long enough to get recognised, worst of all Skulker had dragged him all the way to Hoods haunt when Danny didn't even have an offering! Now he owned Hood two offerings!

"What are you doing Pelt! You are supposed to challenge for the right of courtship first! The courtship presents come later!" Skulker shouted at Danny to which while still invisible Danny choose to flip the other ghost off. Something he would have never done as teen but now that he had come to some sort of understanding with his former rogues was not rare happening, as long as Jazz wasn't there to witness it.

Meanwhile Jason was sitting utterly confused on the roof now, just a moment ago a twig of a man had landed on him and he had seen the other guy for a brief moment before he had disappeared out of nowhere again. He grumbled muttered curses and knew he would have to go though the video footage of his helmet to get a clearer picture of what or rather who had knocked him over.

But he had a feeling it was related to the boxes of sweets and chocolates.

[heart-bones]

so back in the day I used to handwrite fics in notebooks to give to my BFF since I was not internet savvy enough to post them on say ff.net or submit them to whatever 1×2 gundam website I used to go to, and also to avoid the possibility of my parents stumbling across them when they used the computer (it was never porn because I was 14 and that was *weird* but I just could not risk it anyway)

This is my first fic in 20yrs that is Fandom based and not OCs, I have begun this again last night just to get the basics down and will edit appropriately as I type and retype 100 times before actually posting it. Tbh I am still not sure if I'm relieved or a lil sad not having a friend close enough these days to read it and give me feedback lol

[megaderping]

I feel like when people emphasize Akechi's murders, they often act like his motivation only boils down to "daddy issues" or they really make light of the impacts societal discrimination can have on a person. "But Futaba didn't end up like Akechi," I've seen people say, but the thing is, Akechi is meant to show the worst case scenario. Someone without anyone left to uplift him, to ground him, and to give him a reason to be better. Futaba had Sojiro, though that hardly justifies her mother's death, nor the horrible mistreatment from her relatives or what Shido put her through by framing Wakaba's death as a suicide. Futaba was in a very dark place, and she needed a helping hand. The Phantom Thieves saved her. But Akechi didn't have that helping hand when he needed it most. He lost his mother at a very young age, endured the foster system, never finding a new forever home, and at his absolute lowest point, was granted power he didn't understand with no one to guide him, and wanted to get close to Shido to one day backstab him and give him a taste of his own medicine. The murders came later, when Shido "instructed him." And given the way Shido yells at Akechi about what happens to people who cross him, and given what he did to Futaba (the men in suits), his cleaner, and how many people he had on his side, on top of Sojiro making it very clear how cutthroat Shido was to his enemies... Akechi was screwed no matter what. His face, his name, all of it could be used to ruin him in the real world. Alone, he would not have been enough to go through Shido's Palace, given how much trouble the Phantom Thieves had as a group. Plus, y'know, this:

Something so many people ignore when they talk about Akechi and his murders and ignore everything else the narrative tries to say about him.

What P5 tries to say about Akechi is so important to its core themes. That, if Akechi hadn't been a victim of so much injustice, he might have never gone to such lengths. That doesn't undo the damage he's done, but it's so important to understanding why the game approaches him with sympathy rather than writing him off as pure evil. Because it didn't have to be this way. If he had just met Joker sooner, if he had just had somebody. Akechi represents what can happen to vulnerable children who are failed by systems meant to uphold justice and other ideals, and how those who have nothing, who have only ever been hurt, are far more likely to lash out in turn. Persona 5 places so much importance on the suffering of children and the ways society needs to improve for the sake of children. That, I think, is one of the key reasons Akechi is framed as a victim. He is a warning, a cry to do better.

[rovingotter]

Heavy spoilers for Joker: Folie à Deux beneath the cut.

Joker 2019 is a movie that is often misunderstood, and one that means a lot to me.  It doesn’t quite manage to nudge out some of my childhood animated favorites like The Last Unicorn and Watership Down, but Joker is definitely in my top three favorite live action movies.  It got me back into writing fanfic after a long dry spell.

I didn’t think it needed a sequel.  Most people didn’t.  The first movie told the story it needed to tell.  I was wary going into this.  After hearing that it was a musical (and with Gaga as Harley?), I didn’t know what to expect but I thought that even if it was bad, even if it completely misfired, it would at least be an entertaining and funny trainwreck. 

Turns out, it’s not funny at all.  This movie gutted me.

I wish it didn’t exist.  The experience of watching it was…I’m still processing it, but I think I can say at this point that it was an unpleasant experience, but also a captivating one.  I hate it but I also weirdly have a higher opinion of it than most people seem to.  I feel like it was tonally true to the first movie.  I think Phoenix and Gaga both breathed life into their roles.  The musical numbers didn’t seem strictly necessary but they also didn’t detract from the experience for me. Music was an important element of the first movie as well.

I also think the central premise is an interesting one.  Arthur, incarcerated in Arkham, is facing the possibility that he’ll be sentenced to death for the murders he committed in the first movie.  His lawyer is aiming for an insanity defense and tries to convince the jury that the Joker is a separate personality—that Joker, not Arthur, killed those people.  In order to save his own life, Arthur needs to convince the jury that he’s not Joker…or he can take a different path. He can say "fuck it," fully embrace the Joker persona and live whatever time is left laughing and watching everything burn.  This is what Harley "Lee" Quinzel, who admires Joker and the chaos he represents, wants him to do.

In the end, he does neither.

After being forced to sit in silence for days and listen to a defense that both infantilizes and dehumanizes him, reducing him to a set of symptoms, stripping him bare and putting all his pain and humiliation on display, Arthur can’t take it anymore.  He fires his lawyer (who represents his best hope of survival) and elects to represent himself.  Initially he tries to represent himself as Joker, to lean into that persona, but he’s not feeling it anymore…especially after the confrontation with Gary Puddles, the guy who was probably his only true friend before he became Joker.  In the first movie, Arthur spared Gary’s life but left him deeply traumatized after he witnessed the death of Randall, the coworker who bullied Arthur.  This conversation with Gary was one of the most riveting parts of the movie for me.  There is a nakedness and rawness to it. Arthur tries to say "fuck it," but ultimately, he can't. Not in the face of Gary's pleading and pain.

After this, some horrible things happen to Arthur in Arkham.  The guards beat him and brutally assault him.  They kill his fellow inmate who tries to offer him support, because the system is still ruthless and still failing vulnerable people.  Arthur is left broken, helpless. Again. Some people have interpreted this scene as the reason he ultimately sheds his Joker persona, but I think it would have shaken out differently if not for that earlier conversation with Gary.  Because Gary is possibly the only person who truly cared about Arthur, when he was only Arthur—a fellow outcast, and the only guy who never made fun of him. 

Joker makes fun of Gary, because Joker makes fun of everything.  And Arthur realizes that he’s not—doesn’t want to be Joker. At his core, he's sick of pain and violence, both his own and other people's. He wants to try to break the cycle.

In the end, Arthur stands before everyone not as Joker but as Arthur Fleck—he stands alone and naked, shattered, traumatized, with no remaining allies, and he takes responsibility.  He says that he did those things.  He did them because he was having a mental breakdown, yes, because he was wounded and wronged by an unjust world, but he regrets it, now.  He hurt some bad people, but he also hurt some people who didn’t deserve it.  He’s tired of being the clown.  He just wants to live.  That was all he ever wanted, really.  Just a little bit of kindness and respect.

This is his truth:  Joker is a part of him, but a part that was born out of pain.  His deepest self is Arthur. In admitting that, he lays it all on the line, in that moment. And this is, in my opinion, the bravest thing he could have done.  I had my hand over my heart for this whole scene. 

And for this small, fragile act of courage, he is utterly forsaken by the world.  Lee—the one person who he has a connection with—is in love with Joker, not Arthur.  She walks out of the courtroom.  She abandons him in his moment of greatest need—not out of malice, but out of weakness. Because she wants to live in a fantasy world and she can't handle the reality of who he is:  not an embodiment of chaos and power, not a symbol, but a man, a vulnerable man who is full of regrets but who is trying, in his own confused way, to be better.

The first movie was bleak but it offered a glimpse of a twisted kind of hope at the end with Arthur finding inner peace even as he’s condemned to a life in psychiatric incarceration for his actions.  This movie takes that bit of hope and grinds it into the dust.  It’s a tragedy, through and through.

Arthur’s random, pointless death at the end feels almost redundant because it’s made clear by that point that his spirit has already been slain.  His connection with Lee was all he had, and when it’s revealed to be an illusion, that’s it.  He can no longer exist as the Joker but he can’t exist as Arthur, either.  He tried his best and was rejected for it.  It didn’t work.  He’s done. 

There are a lot of takes about how this movie should have gone, and honestly, most of them sound terrible to me.  I think this is the only way a sequel could have gone while remaining honest, which is why I didn’t want a sequel.

You can’t hear me, Arthur, but I love you, and I’m proud of you for standing before the world as yourself, and you didn’t deserve to die the way you did. 

This world is fucking cruel.

[jasmines-library]

Would it be too much to request a batsis oneshot, about her knowing how to cook😆 like whenever Alfred is not available he leaves her in charge to help ensure the other family members are eating without buring down the house🤭 also a lil thing u could add is she often visits the manor just to cook cuz Alfred always keeps the kitchen fully stocked with ingredients which means she can cook pretty much anything she desires💜 I just thought it'd be cute to have Bruce be envious of his daughters cooking skills whereas he lacks them🤭

Kitchen Antics

Thanks for requesting! This was cute to write!

Word Count: 1k

⛤ BATFAM MASTERLIST ⛤

“I still don’t think this is very fair.” Bruce pouted as you slid the plate in front of him.

“Hm?”

“This.” He gestured to the plate that you had served to him, piled to the brim. It had taken you hours to prepare, especially without Alfred’s help, but it was well worth it. “How come Alfred lets you cook and not me. I’m a fully grown adult. I should be allowed to cook a meal for my family.”

“Maybe it’s because you can’t actually cook.” You threw over your shoulder with a smug grin. 

That earnt a snort from Damian which he hid poorly behind a hand. Bruce shot him an unamused look. 

“Can too.” Bruce said. This time you raised a brow as you slid into your seat.

“Oh yeah, because the last time you cooked it turned out great.” Jason rolled his eyes. 

You remember it distinctly. It was one of the first times Alfred was away and had reluctantly let Bruce use the kitchen. He had regretted it the moment he returned because his kitchen was hardly recognisable. And the food Bruce had cooked was less so. If you could even count it as food. It was the furthest thing from edible. Somehow undercooked and burnt to a crisp around the edges at the same time. Even Alfred wasn’t sure how he managed to do that, and he had seen almost everything when baking with the rest of your brothers. It was safe to say that Bruce was no longer allowed in the kitchen after that. So, the responsibility turned to you. 

Alfred had always said you had a natural talent for cooking, though you swore it was because you had the best teacher: You had spent countless hours helping him when you were younger and you were the only person he didn’t seem to physically wince at when you walked into the kitchen. So, naturally when he announced he was leaving this week he entrusted you to make sure the family were fed without the entire manor being burnt down, or being filled with takeout boxes.

Your brothers had tried countless times to worm their way into the kitchen, but you ushered them out every time. They were just as bad as Bruce when it came to cooking. There was one time Damian and Dick had tried to bake a cake to surprise Bruce on his birthday. And it did…when the fire they had started nearly set the whole kitchen alight. Luckily Alfred had smelt it before any real damage could happen, but the pair of adults were far from happy. Jason had never shown much interest in cooking. He would usually just grab himself a snack from one of the cupboards instead of actually cooking himself something, so he had never really been an issue to keep out. Though, often he would try to sabotage your work just to wind you up. As for Tim, he was the best out of the four boys. By no means a master at work, it was often slightly bland but he was the only one who hadn’t tried to kill everyone with his cooking so he got bonus points for that. 

“That was one time.” Bruce turned his head away, pouting like a small child.

“Tt. Father, I think you’ve tried to poison us every time you’ve gone near the kitchen.” Damian jested through a mouthful of food. “Perhaps you should ask Joker to try it. Might take a villain off of our hands.”

Tim stifled a laugh. “This is lovely, Y/N. Thank you.”

You smiled. “Thank you.”

The six of you fell into a comfortable silence as you ate, before Bruce finally spoke up again. Cutting through the sound of cutlery scraping against china plates.

“Is my cooking really that bad?”

He was answered with silence. And a lot of smirks.

“...Are you jealous of Y/N, Father?” Dick grinned.

“Psh…No.”

Bruce was a terrible liar. 

~

“Do you need any assistance, Miss Y/N?” Alfred poked his head around the kitchen door. He had returned from his trip not too long ago, glad to see that everyone had been well fed and that the house was still in one piece. 

Glancing up from the bowl of ingredients you were whisking, you met Alfred’s proud glance. “No thank you, Alfred. You already have everything I need.”

Alfred smiled up at you. It was nice for you to stop by once in a while to see them. He enjoyed seeing you cook. Better yet he enjoyed tasting your new creations each week so he kept everything stocked, even if he knew he wouldn’t need it himself. The shelves were lined with all sorts of spices, flours, sugars and ingredients for you to create something new so that if you ever decided to stop by (which you liked to do at least once a week) he would have everything  you could ever need.

Your brothers loved it when you would bring over food to them too. Most of it would be gone in minutes and they would turn to you asking for more. Bruce would do the same too, although he would still have that look of teasing jealousy on his face. But he was proud really. And glad that at least one of his children had enough common sense to not set the entire manor alight when baking a cake. 

BATFAM TAGLIST:

@aestheticdaisies

@hell-o-kittys

@xxrougefangxx

@mamapucket

@hearts4robs

@harleycao

[speed-world]

do you think you could do one with Shadow milk cookie x reader, where reader is like his stage assistant, hypeman, supporting role kind of thing, reader is like fully fine with atrocities shadow milk

maybe something with like reader also having been sealed separately from the beasts so shadow milk would probably have to try and find where reader was sealed while the brave and others were running around

- :D

His partner in crime

You and Shadow Milk Cookie were almost like The Joker and Harley Quinn (minus the cycle of abuse-)

He always loves and appreciates whenever you help him out in setting up a play. Whether that be designing the characters with him, arranging the props and stage in the best condition, and even just rooting for him!

There are even times when you help him write out the script for his plays, which he adores so so very much!!

He’ll always make a point to credit you in the most dramatic and loving manner whenever you help him. And boy do I mean dramatic-

“Thank you all so so so so much for enjoying the show! But the real star that deserves the glory is my dazzling, extraordinary, and adorable~…Y/N Cookie!!!”

A giant spotlight was cast on you as confetti and ribbons popped out all over the audience. You smiled and bowed as Shadow Milk applauded you, and after a while, everyone started applauding you!! If they didn’t, then the jester made sure they would cheer for his assistant…”

There are times where in the middle of his performance, he allows a pause for you to applaud and cheer and for him!

Of course, all of the audience is free to do the same whenever that brief moment comes, but usually it’s only you. Granted, all he cares about is your praise and appreciation, so he doesn’t care if you’re the only one clapping for him.

When he was imprisoned by the Witches, you were…displaced. The Witches knew your connection to Shadow Milk, and sealed you to the far ends of Earthbread outside of the Beast-Yeast continent.

Shadow Milk was furious beyond belief when he saw you being sealed up too. You weren’t a Beast or did anything wrong like he did, so why were you being punished like this?!

It hurt him so much, especially because he couldn’t do anything but sit in that dang tree…

Granted, this wouldn’t stop you from doing everything you could to get back to Beast-Yeast, or more get back to Shadow Milk

When you two were finally reunited in the Faerie Kingdom, after both your seals were broken down, you both ignored GingerBrave, Elder Faerie, and everyone else there and went to a discreet place to yourselves.

While you were reconnecting the lost time, he told you about Pure Vanilla and the Witches, and you’d be right there to hold him if he got shaken up or cried when mentioning them. You hated the witches and Purr Vanilla Cookie just as much, if not more than he did.

When Pure Vanilla and his company caught up to you, it was you who personally a play where certain caricatures would reference the witches, Pure Vanilla, or any others that Shadow Milk wasn’t fond of. You wouldn’t have any mercy in disrespecting said caricatures in the plays, which Shadow Milk loved and cheered for!!

No matter what, you were always there to support Shadow Milk and his crazy antics. He would do the same, loving you and being with you through every single thing.