#that this has all happened before

[vaugarde]

pmd explorers of the spirit is like pmd2 no mercy run

[hinamie]

to moving forward

[teaboot]

Sometimes at work it's not my place to tell people the things I want to say, and I find I often go home at the end of the rougher days to stand blankly in my shower and tell myself over and over what I wish I could pass on.

This accomplishes very little, and mostly just gives me a tension headache, but through it all I think I've narrowed myself down to a few solid things I'd like to tell people the most.

You can't change people. Not permanently, not for anythig. You can support them, encourage them, love them, give them tools and opportunities and resources, but you can't make them change. They can change themselves if they want to, but they have to want to, and they have to want it for themselves, because they're the only one that's certain to be with them forever.

For better or worse, you make your own choices, and blaming bad choices on others doesn't only work to absolve you of responsibility- it also robs you of control. Because if you say you only did something because I did something, then you arent only shifting blame- you're admitting that you cannot control yourself, that you cannot truly make choices for yourself, that other people can control you- and as long as you truly beleive that, you'll keep facing the same problems over and over. You'll keep letting others dictate your choices, because you'll beleive that they can, and you'll never be free.

White knights on horseback are from fairytales. Nobody can help you if ou're not willing to help yourself. To try, to put the dirty work in, to belive you're worth that effort- Act as though nobody is coming to save you. From a struggle, from pain, from bad relationships, from yourself. And when you do save yourself, because you will, because failure here isn't an option if you want to survive, you'll never find another dragon that can keep you prisoner.

Don't say anything to anyone that you wouldn't want them remembering forever.

Doing the right thing in bad circumstances is hard. It's the hardest thing. But if you make the choice to do that hard thing anyways, despite your fear, you'll go on the rest of your like knowing that you're the sort of person who did something.

The present only seems the hardest because the past I over and the future hasn't happened.

There's so much joy ahead of you, the kind you can't possibly understand until you see it yourself.

The responsibility of consequences is often disguised as the power of permission. "I won't do this if you help me", "I'll work on my anger if you do this for me", "I promised you I'd quit, but can I have just one?". The unspoken question is, "Can it be your fault if this goes badly?"

You cant make someone love you the way you need to be loved. Someone can love you very much and still be bad for you, even if you love them very much in return. Two people can love each other very, very much, and try their very best, and still be wrong for each other.

Sometimes being near to someone changes you, even in good ways, and the people you become don't fit together as well as the people you were.

Caring takes work. Even if it's real. Especially if it's real. And the most important gestures aren't the grand, poetic, songs-and-flowers-and-tears moments; they're getting out of bed even though you don't want to. Paying attention to things you don't enjoy. Scrubbing pans, or opening a window, saying "thank-you", or helping carry groceries into the house. The small things fill the big things- without the small, boring, mediocre things, big things feel hollow.

Thrre is honour and dignity in humble work.

If you are a cruel and spiteful person, then you will find every place you visit to be full of the same cruel, spiteful people. This is not because the world is as cruel as you, but because everywhere you are, you will be disliked. This is the curse that comes with being persistently cruel and spiteful.

If you are a kind and ppsitive person, you will repeatedly encounter kind and positive people, because as they grow familiar with you, they will be happier to have you near. This is the reward of being a kind and positive person.

When splitting paths with loved ones, briefly or forever, aim for your last words to always be "I love you".

[stil-lindigo]

PALESTINIAN FAMILY FORCED TO RESTART FUNDRAISING - PLEASE DONATE!

PROGRESS: £520 / £35,000

a little while ago, I was contacted by Amal Abushaban, a Palestinian mother of 5, for help regarding her Gofundme campaign.

In summary, after spending months raising over $13,000 for her family, she attempted to withdraw the money. She did everything right, she answered Gofundme's questions, she provided the details of her beneficiary and she contacted their support team - only to be left in the dark until an email came one day, notifying her that her campaign had been closed and all donations were now in the process of being refunded.

I tried kicking up a major fuss about it online, as well as trying to pester Gofundme Support on my own account, but all it did was send me in circles as I desperately pleaded for the Gofundme Support person I was assigned to at least re-instate the damn fund. Even worse, Amal got her first email today about refunds going through.

Regrettably, Amal is being forced to start over completely in her fundraising efforts. Her beneficiary has started this Paypal fund for her. Please donate and share!

PROGRESS: £520 / £35,000

[technically-human]

Can you draw something with Doom Patrol!Edwin and Netflix!Edwin?

Maybe something about Dp!Edwin talking about his feelings for Charles with N!Edwin?

It's just something I've been thinking of, make it a little angsty?<3

Glad you asked

ko-fi

[the-widow-olivia]

Deep breath.

I am a solidly middle-aged fangirl, and my last real fan community before OFMD was the X-Files. (I feel like I am not the only one here who fits that description).

The news that we aren’t getting a new season of Our Flag Means Death is hitting me harder than I expected.

So I am thinking about Scully.

There’s this X-Files episode called “Clyde Bruckman’s Final Repose.” The plot is about a guy who can see into the future and tell people how they die.

Scully asks him, "How do I die?"

And Clyde Bruckman replies, simply, "You don't."

I've seen fans speculate that Scully winds up becoming immortal by the end of the series. But, 22 years after the end of the show's original run, that line has taken on a new meaning for me.

Scully doesn't die, she can't die, because I still think about her. Scully is immortal because there are fans still writing her into stories, still making art, still getting inspired by her and pursuing medicine and science.

You cannot truly kill a story. You can cancel a TV show. You can, if you're an asshole, make fun of fan creators and their ideas. If you're really an asshole (and a media conglomerate), you can send them cease and desist letters and tell them to stop making art that breathes new life into that story. But the story will not die.

I draw a lot of hope from the long, long history of fandom. The people who loved stories enough to keep them alive, even when it wasn't clear that there would ever be another "official" work in their lifetimes. The Sherlock Holmes fans. The Star Trek fans.

How does a story die?

It doesn’t.

[zarnzarn]

Athena shoots upright as soon as her eyes fly open, gasping. She calls on her spear and slashes in a brutal curve, provoking shouts from the enemies who'd been holding her down as they back off. Bares her teeth in a snarl as she grabs the sheets off the bed to whip at the eyes of the assailants and-

Light floods into her eyes as they step away from her attack and she freezes as she remembers a flash of brightness too fast to escape, heat and burning like never before, electricity that seeped into her very bones, thunder that deafened, lightning that hurt-

"Get back!" She hears and turns unsteadily back to- back to where Apollo is pulling Ares back by the cape against the far wall. Apollo. Ares. Aphrodite, Aephestus, Artemis.

"Wh-" She manages, before she's bowled over, coughing. She has never done it before, and she can't stop it from happening- chest rattling as her knees give out, barely holding herself up with her spear in time to reach the bed. It doesn't stop, doesn't stop, plumes of smoke escaping her mouth as she can't stop, can't breathe-

"Athena," Hera whispers, and a rough hand gently touches her on the shoulder, handing her a glass of nectar. She accepts it gratefully, tilting her head back to down it. It's soothing like it's never been before, stoping the coughing at last and it clears her headache long enough to realize that she isn't in her armour- she's in a chiton.

"Where is my armour?" She rasps as soon as she can, wiping her mouth. Looks around- Apollo's chambers.

She'd always known being the favourite wouldn't protect her forever. But repeating the words didn't seem to reduce the hurt.

Nor the shaking fear.

"-not!" Apollo is saying, indignantly setting his hands on his hips. "Do you have any idea how hard you got hit? You're lucky I could even stabilize your aspect enough to reduce some of the damage, otherwise you'd still be having a seizure back at Mount Olympus!"

"Mount Olympus," Athena mutters oddly, without much intent to it. She tries to stand again and her vision suddenly cuts out, provoking a round of screams as she loses her balance.

When the world blurrily comes back into focus- and she doesn't like this, hates this sudden weakness; she's always been able to get back up from any blow, has never visited a medical chamber in her existence, even when they had to fight the Titans- she's in Ares' arms, oddly horizontal.

"Cease this stupidity, sister," Artemis hisses at her as she grabs onto Athena's arms to bring her back to the bed. "Calm yourself. You are alive. You are safe."

"My armour," Athena says, voice cracking, head rolling oddly on her neck, unable to look upright. She catches a glimpse of Aephastus holding onto a sobbing Aphrodite, staring at her with a strange sort of sorrow.

Something twinges in Athena's chest in reply, but she stumbles before she can address it, feeling a fission of panic at the instability before Ares' grip on her tightens enough to keep her upright. They're all staring at her like that, she realizes, with that same horrified heartbreak.

"Didn't Artemis just tell you to cease stupidity?" Ares barks, though it's rather quietly said, for him. He adjusts her on the bed until she can lean back against the pillows. His hands are shaking, and Athena stares at them with curiosity. "Weren't you the one to lecture me half to death about when to remove the armour?"

"What," She says weakly, then moans as an aftershock trembles through her, residual sparks humming maliciously as they exit her skin, leaving her trembling. "I- hmmm, what? What were- what were-"

"Athena, calm down, please, you're scaring us," Hera says, bangles jangling as she sits down next to her, taking one of Athena's hands with desperation. Athena tilts her head to squint, noticing the tears for the first time, before she shudders as her skin registers the heat, the unbearable heat.

"Scaring?" She murmurs when it stops, voice coming out smaller than she intended it to.

"Her fever keeps rising and falling," Apollo reenters the room before anyone can answer, carrying a large tub of some odd liquid. "Here, help me rub this on her skin, it should extract any remaining- any remaining lightning."

They all move towards the tub at the same time, dipping the cloths provided and then taking positions in a circle surrounding her. Athena stiffens, fingers twitching for a weapon, but the first touch of Hera's drenched cloth on her forehead makes her moan in relief, the blessed coolness of it making her melt back into the sheets. She has no strength to complain or protest when her fellow gods each take a limb to rub at, a sensation both horrifically terrible and unbearably good. She has never taken her armour off in her life.

"Easy, that's it," Apollo says coaxingly, lips downturned like he's trying not to cry. She whimpers as the cloth on her left leg suddenly burns as a spark escapes, instinctively pulling it away, but Aphrodite grabs it before she can and resumes rubbing, whispering apologies. She turns her head and weakly opens her mouth for the herb Apollo lifts to her lips, desperate for relief from the splitting headache.

She can't think. She can't think.

Athena has no idea how long it goes on, how long the other gods ignore their realms to tend to her. Slowly, they strike up a conversation, something light-hearted that she can't follow- different from their never-ending arguments and insults, as they talk about the past year and humourous stories and varied anecdotes.

Athena can't help but relax into it, the soft bed at her back and gentle hands massaging her sore muscles and warmth all around her. Feels something trembling within her since she first became aware of herself settling down with a sigh.

Until she suddenly smells ozone.

Hera and Apollo both notice her tensing up immediately, and look to where she can hear slow footsteps approaching. Apollo growls and shoots out a hand, bringing up the shields of his realm.

The conversation dies down as they all look to the side, at the distinct shadow at the other side of the curtain.

Rage, Athena realises, thoughts slow and muddied. They're angry with him.

"I will handle this," Hera says coldly, with the steel undertone that Athena strives for. She moves her cloth aside and leans down to kiss Athena on the forehead, like a mother would. "You rest, my daughter."

Athena's breath hitches, eyes burning. Nobody has ever cared for her, apart from Zeu-

Nobody has ever cared for her.

... Nobody has-

Hera turns sharply at the noise that suddenly escapes Athena, half hysterical laugh and half distraught wail.

"Did I win?" Athena asks desperately, pushing herself upright, ignoring the protests of the others as she pulls her limbs from their grasp. Hera stares at her and Athena grabs the side of the bed as she tries to lever herself up like a wild animal, demanding in a broken voice, "Did I win?"

A silence that stretches for a painful moment before- "Yes," Aephastus says, putting his hand on her shoulder to guide her back from the edge. "Yes, Athena, you won."

A strangled gasp of relief leaves her, making her light-headed as she leans back against the pillows. She shivers, then sobs- humiliation running through her before she hears an answering noise of sorrow from Aphrodite next to her, pressure all around as her five younger siblings embrace her carefully, gently, like she would break at any moment.

She's not the one who's been raped by a Titan's daughter for seven years.

The thought has her breath hitching, wiping her tears away with a hand that refuses to co-operate the first few tries. "I need to-"

"No," Artemis snaps, glaring at her. "I know you think of nothing but your work, but Athena, you cannot do it this time." Outside, Hera's and Zeus' voices rise as they begin to shout and scream. "You must rest."

"N-no, that's not- aah," She groans as another aftershock rips through her, leaving her panting and soaked in sweat when it's done. "I need to- I need-"

"Hermes has gone to his grandson," Aephastus says soothingly. "Peace, Athena. Your hero is free."

For a moment, it doesn't comprehend and she stares at him blankly. "Free," She repeats, words still infuriatingly faint and lilting. "He's free? I- I need my helmet, where is-"

"No, Athena!"

"Sister, please, you cannot resume your duties, you are in no state!"

"I need my helmet, please, please- just give me my helmet!"

Her cry echoes off the walls and she hears herself when it bounces back to her, broken and pleading and so unlike her she feels nauseous. Her siblings have gone silent and still at her begging, staring at her with shock and horror and fear and sorrow alike. Even Zeus and Hera have stopped talking.

Athena shakes, wishing she could rip this awful vulnerability out of her veins, wishes she could find a stone footing to stand on once more, wishes she wasn't in this horrible chiton.

"Please," She whispers.

Quietly, Aephastus gets to his feet and walks in the direction of the nearby drawers, where she can now see her belongings stacked up haphazardly, blood-stained.

"Sister, you must calm down," Aphrodite pleads. She takes her hands and Athena dazedly looks down at her, with her wide, scared eyes. Seizure, her mind registers finally from Apollo's earlier talk. Ah. She seems to have frightened them all. "You cannot afford a relapse."

Athena squeezes her fingers in acknowledgement, but reaches for the helmet when it's held out, dented and worn.

She touches the metal and feels the full force of seven years of silenced prayers hit her at once.

She's crying before she knows she's doing it, clutching the helmet to her chest as the warmth of the worship wraps around her like a shawl, and holds it tight against her as Ares tries to pry it away.

"No, no!" Apollo intervenes, shifting forward. He touches a hand to the helmet and suddenly the hymn bursts forth around them, loud even though the prayer itself is quiet and broken. Athena inhales at the feeling of it, soothing over the cracks in her own mind with their never-ending continuity, desolate, unbroken faith even when she never came to help-

He's still singing.

She shifts her hands on the helmet to make sure but- yes. Odysseus is calling her, still, at this very moment.

Her head snaps up, but even the dizziness the motion causes doesn't take away from how much clearer the room looks. "Where is he?"

"Sister-"

"If you do not answer me, I will take to the skies myself," She says firmly. "Where is he?"

Her siblings exchange looks.

"Three days out from Ithaka," Artemis replies with a sigh. "On a raft. But listen, wait but an hour, at least absorb these prayers-"

Athena stumbles off the bed and pulls on the helmet, closing her eyes.

"Wait, the bandages-!"

"Athena, you'll hurt yourself, please!"

"Daughter, be careful!"

Athena opens her eyes and looks out at the waves, rough and choppy, but not enough to sink the raft. She looks down and looks at the way the faded clothes don't fit him, the way he has no water left to drink but he still continues to sing.

"Odysseus," She says, and he freezes.

A wave rises and falls. They stay silent, unmoving.

"Won't you look?" The words break out of her, cracked and desperate.

He inhales and exhales, tears in the sound of it. "I don't want to look if you're... if you're not really here."

She swallows against the lump in her throat, takes a step forward. "Well, I-" Her voice cracks, but the fragile grin on her face is real as it spreads, the frailest thread of laughter entering her voice. "I would hope. That if you were hallucinating of me, that the spectre would at least have wisdom enough to tell you that you were."

Odysseus sobs and her heart cracks, feels his heart cracking in turn; yet it is akin to a misaligned bone that never healed right and has to be reset- she can hear the laughter before it comes, with relief coming from the brink of madness, with joy they'd both forgotten and missed. "It is you."

"I could not reach you on Ogygia," She blurts out, desperate to make him understand. "Could not hear your call. I would have come the second time you prayed, if I had."

"It is you," He whispers, swaying. A wave rises suddenly and they both burst into movement, grabbing ropes and pulling the mast, balancing together to keep it steady.

The wave passes. They are almost touching now.

"Won't you look?" Athena asks again, raw and grieving. "Odysseus. My companion, my friend. Please."

He turns at that, a stunned expression on his face- before it turns into wide-eyed horror as he looks at her. She laughs breathlessly, slightly dizzy, but- her friend. How lovely it is to see him again.

"Athena!" He rushes forward with unexpected vitality, the parts of him that she knew suddenly rising to light in his eyes, in his movements, becoming unhidden from the defeated, beaten figure he'd been moments before. "What in Gaia's name-"

"I'm sorry," She interrupts as she slumps forward into the hands on her arms, off-balance. "I should have tried better to understand, all those years ago. I understand now and I- Odysseus, I am-"

"Athena, shut up," Odysseus snaps, clearly panicking. She laughs again, because isn't it such a novelty, to have a person who will have the audacity to tell her to? "Of course it's forgiven, I'm sorry too, I should have fucking listened back then- but listen, what in Hades happened to you? Why do you look like this- why do you have bandages- Hermes wouldn't answer when I asked if something happened to you, fuck-"

"Peace," Athena rasps, even as her vision blinks in and out, forcing her to kneel. They both grimace as another wave crashes into the raft, but they don't upturn. Odysseus kneels down with her, staring at her with such worry and concern she can feel nothing but fondness. "The disagreements of gods are often violent."

"Gods-" His eyes flicker to the side of her face, and he frowns, reaching out to push back the helmet. She bends her face down to let him, feeling an odd burning on the left side that she has a vague bad feeling about- proved right when Odysseus' expression falls into blank horror. "You got into a fight with-"

"Yes."

"But he's your-"

"I know. He did not take kindly to my petition to release you," She smiles dryly, without mirth.

"To release me?" Odysseus wheezes, face cracking into anguish and disbelief alike. "Athena, what- I- I'm not worth-"

"It was worth it," She snaps. "Consider it my penance for abandoning my own. I certainly don't regret it."

"I never felt abandoned," Odysseus whispers, taking her hands as she shifts, supporting her body with his own as they lean against the mast. She looks at him, and remembers why Penelope is still weaving, why he's still out on the waters, why Ithaka is waiting out the suitors till Telemachus takes the throne. "I always knew you would come back. I just figured it would take ten years more, perhaps."

Athena is silent for a bit, absorbing that. And then, because she can't hold it back any longer- "I am sorry about your men." His breath hitches under her and she turns to take him in her arms, knowing what's coming. "I am sorry about your friends."

He sobs, ugly and loud, and she holds him tighter. "I am sorry that Titan's whelp had you for so long, and what she did to you. I am sorry the Fates were so unkind."

"Athena," He keens, finally falling to pieces. The sobs are mere loud gasps for air at first, before it dissolves into wailing, screaming, grieving for all the men they'd kept alive through a war, only to lose them to this cruel tragedy instead. Even she hadn't known- hadn't anticipated how wrong things would go after she left. Hadn't even thought that he hadn't reached home.

"It's all my fucking fault," He shouts, shaking. "If only I had- if only-"

"It is not. No one could have known," She whispers. "The Fates are unknown to us all."

He sobs louder and she closes her eyes.

But finally, their tears dry up. She holds him still, as the night fades and the sun rises again, trying to take his hurt into herself so he can be happy again.

"I am sorry," She whispers, seaspray around them. "That my enemies became your own. That I pushed you so hard. That I chose you, and brought pain to your life so."

"Hey now," Odysseus says, pulling back to look at her, a broken smile on his face. "Hold your blasphemous tongue, before you insult the wisdom of Pallas Athena." She laughs, even as tears spill over. "Even if I had the chance to choose again right at this moment, my goddess, I would still choose you."

"That means more than you know," Athena murmurs, overcome. She gathers all her strength and reaches out to run a hand over his head, soothing his mind and driving away the last tendrils of madness that were still holding onto him. He sighs and relaxes under her, some visible weight lifting from his shoulders. "Still. I will learn from my mistakes. If you would give your old friend a chance-"

"Stop right there. Of course I-" Odysseus scoffs, reaching out to hold her left cheek for emphasis. "Athena, your left eye is half gone."

"Ah. Well, that explains the depth perception," She mutters, then bursts into giggles at the incredulous look on his face.

"Are you drugged?" Odysseus demands, but he's already trying not to laugh himself. They both move on fast. "What am I saying, of course you are- have you been drugged this whole time? Who on Earth drugged you?"

"That would be me," Apollo says, crossing his arms.

Odysseus snarls, grabbing his sword and swinging wildly in an arc, half-animal in his panic, pushing Athena behind him.

"FUCKING- whoa, hey, calm down, it's her brother, it's Apollo!" Apollo half-shrieks inelegantly, jumping back. "Honestly! Athena, call off your hero, please."

"Apollo?" Odysseus tilts his head, lowering his sword and narrowing his eyes.

Apollo stares at him. "Wow, you two- really do act the exact same, huh. Yes, Apollo, god of please let me change your fucking bandages, do you mind?"

Odysseus bows and murmurs apologies, clearly wary of getting into more trouble, but to her mild surprise walks behind Athena instead of to the other side of the raft.

"I don't need assistance," She mutters to him, even as she grimaces at the length of the chiton as she tries to pull herself upright.

"You're still dizzy," Odysseus points out, settling in behind her to hold her steady. He wipes at the tears still on his face and smiles at her. She manages a half-smile back. "Do you need to go back to Olympus?"

"Yes," Artemis crosses her hands and Odysseus' fingers tighten painfully on her shoulders.

"I'm not quite certain there's space for so many on this raft," Athena mutters.

"It's a magical raft, it'll survive- but never mind that, could you not have at least sent a message that you were okay?"

"Well, maybe you should have thought of that before running off without a word!"

"Really, daughter, you should know better!"

Odysseus grip is bruising now, and his sword is in front of Athena protectively; she can already tell what moves he's planning to use if they choose to attack. "Who..?" He asks lowly.

"Pantheon. At ease," She replies back shortly, before looking up at the others. "I thank you, my fellow go- my family, for your worry and concern. But we are only two days out from Ithaka and I would like to see this journey completed."

"You are not going to see yourself completed, if you don't rest," Apollo says, roughly at the exact same time that Athena undermines her own argument by throwing up on the raft.

"Athena, go," Odysseus says urgently when it's over, handing her helmet back to her and adjusting her cape as Hera kneels down beside her to hand her another glass of nectar, looking at him oddly. Odysseus grimaces and changes his tone. "I will be fine, patroness. I'll call for you when I reach the shores."

Movement catches her eye and she sees Ares remove his own helmet, giving her a reproving look. She remembers the speech he was talking about now- the one she'd loudly ranted at him when she was drunk a year ago, thinks about how much more at ease he is now.

"Alright," She acquiesces and everyone breathes a sigh of relief. "Two days."

Mania fills Odysseus' eyes as he smiles back, finally home from a war twenty years ago. "Two days."

Athena grins, even as she feels Hera wrap an arm around her to take her away. "Penelope is waiting."

Odysseus' eyes widen, then fill with tears, like he'd never quite truly let himself believe it; but his smile is wide and true. "Penelope is waiting. Thank you, Pallas Athena."

"You don't thank friends," She murmurs, exhaustion settling in. Odysseus laughs and the last thing she feels is a warm hand on her cheek and their foreheads pressed together, before the world goes black and she knows no more.

[zealouswitchwerewolf]

DP AU where the box ghost is actually someone from the future that came back as a ghost to try and warn Danny before all the major battles. The problem is that ghosts are mostly ruled by emotions and since he isn't directly connected to all the battles as they happened, his memories get fuzzy at best so whenever he warns Danny, it's either because there's about to be a world ending event or because someone's cat got stuck on a tree (and anything in between)

So when Danny joins the JL as Phantom they ask him about his rogue gallery. He tells them all about the ancients he fought and skulker and the GIW, even his parents, though he only says they were mad scientists with a huge bias.

And then, after he tells them about the "plasmius incident" they ask whether he thinks Vlad is the one that's caused him most trouble and Danny goes quiet for a bit and looks thoughtful for way too long before saying in a quiet voice "no, that's actually the box ghost. He's always warning me about something. It's terrifying"

The JL are concerned. What could be worse than all the Eldritch terrors Danny has described? They try to ask for details but whenever they bring the topic, Danny gets this lost stare and goes silent until they change the topic or snap him out of it. It's kind of unsettling. So they leave it be. Even Batman doesn't push it (he would rather not traumatize the kid more, thank you very much, he's also wondering if he can adopt someone that's technically dead, asking for a friend).

And then the box ghost shows up at the watchtower. They all come running when they hear the ominous "Beware". Batman activates all the alerts. Boxy just throws a box at him, then leaves. Batman calls for a meeting, most of the heroes were already in the watchtower anyway, he describes the incident to phantom.

Danny: ah, that was just his way of saying hi. I guess he wants to start haunting you too. Should be fun :)

Batman: hn

The JL: ?!?

Danny: Don't worry, I'll ask him to be nicer next time :)

Flash: was that... Supposed to be terrifying? He just threw a box, right?

Danny: 🤷🏻‍♀️

[naomistares]

mini comic about a kinda freaky terrible queen and the nonsensical takes she has about the times people have tried to kill her

(more thoughts in notes)

UP NEXT! ANOTHER short comic, (and then one more) this time taking place one month before the kings death, in which we will have: one annoying prince! one lousy fight scene! rejoice's dismissive nature! and row reveals a secret.... tune in next time for all that

[seasonofprophecy]

Bshaer Omar (Vetted, #231)'s baby, Ayla, is sick. Medicine and clean diapers together costs $500 USD. With her husband martyred in December, Bshaer has been left alone to raise their now 8 month old infant.

I'm opening commissions.

All prices shown in USD. Second characters in a piece are 75% of original price. Donate, save the proof, and directly message me. If you prefer conversation off Tumblr, we can discuss other contact.

Proof under read more. Thank you for reading.

As I write this, $24,552 USD raised of $40,000 has been raised ($0/500).

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Burning Rotten Bridges

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[choccy-milky]

congrats on baby #2!🥰👍 part 2 to this post bc seb is a smug ass bitch when it comes to getting clora pregnant. and ty @rednite-dork for sending me the original pic ages ago LMFAO... i knew as soon as i saw it that i had to redraw it eventually 👼

[cubbihue]

A common misconception about Fairy Crowns is that it indicates the emotions a Fairy has. This is not true. A Fairy's Crown is purely an indication of their magical energy, as magic is directly connected to their health.

A crown losing its form is an indication that the flow of their magic is fluctuating, which humans often mistaken it as high emotions. Humans should be wary of Fairies with visible fluctuating magic, as it can mean that they are about to impulsively use magic in an erratic or dangerous manner.

Thankfully, crowns cannot do direct harm to others, and Fairies cannot do magic without a wand! Take their wand, and they won't do you harm!!

Bitties Series: [Start] > [Previous] > [Next]

Instability: [Start] > [Previous] > [Next]

[mipexch]

been thinking about something wicked a little too much lately. no harm in romanticizing the ominous dreadful unstoppable force

[bluerosefox]

A Fair Warning

It was only a matter of time, and a long awaited and well deserved comeuppance, when Joker tried to hurt the wrong person or people.

Not everyone was going to play his games like 'Batsy' does. Not everyone will hesitate or let him live should he put his hands on someone to hurt them. Not everyone will believe Arkham could 'fix' him, he just needed more time and help.

No.

This time Joker bit off more than he could chew when he kidnapped the newly hired Arkham psychiatrist Jasmine Fenton (and he had plans, so many plans, for her. With her mixture of Harley's mind and her looks matching Gordon's daughter would sure to cause some chaos and pain in memories) and the girl's visiting sister Danielle 'Ellie' (and did he laugh when he noticed the 'Wayne' adoptive looks the girl had, on the fun he'll have, maybe he'll beat her the way he beat the second Robin just for funzie's, it'll no doubt upset Batman) from Jasmine's apartment.

He had plans to keep the Bats guessing where he was and by the time they reach him it'll be far to late for them to save either of the two girls, he had just sent the little video he taped to the Bats and the police to get the ball rolling...

So...

So why did a shiver run down his spine for the first time in years when they both looked unafraid (it was their eyes that made him shiver, a look of already dead yet somehow alive, something he never seen before. He's seen the light fade from people's eyes before yes, he's even laughed as he watch people desperately cling onto life only for it to fade into nothing as they took a final breath but never have he seen someone, something alive yet dead at the same time before. It, their eyes, held a natural yet unnatural sense as they stared at him, stared at everything that made him Joker and it unnerved him), honestly they looked very bored, and one of them (the youngest of the two, and the one with more of the look of death than life in their eyes) said with a chill tune in their tone.

"Last chance to back out of this Freakshows Reject. You wont like what'll be waiting for you."

The tone alone was enough to send another bone deep chill down Joker's spine.

But instead of listening to his natural instincts, the deep inkling of run blaring at him, Joker merely placed a grin on his face, ignoring the strain he felt from doing so, and said as nastily as he could in order to scare the two girls (BOTH OF THEM STILL LOOKED BORED WITH HIM?!?! Not even a twitch of fear!)

"OH? And pray tell what is awaiting little ol' me hum?"

His mocking question got a wide feral grin from the smaller girl, a grin with sharp teeth and iris eyes beginning to bleed slowly from sky blue to neon green with each second he stared at her and he barely stopped himself from jumping in his spot when Jasmine answered his question.

"Your end."

-x-x-

By the time the Bats get to the warehouse Joker had taken Dr. Jasmine 'Jazz' Fenton and Danielle 'Ellie' Fenton they were prepared for anything and everything to go wrong. As much as they held the tiniest bit of hope that the two young women were still okay they knew better than to really do, this was the Joker that had them after all.

They had manged to narrow down his location much quicker than normal when they gotten Joker's first video and his little 'game' he was setting the Bats on, most locations he gave them were going to be red herrings or traps to keep them busy and it would had worked. Batman and the others would had been searching for hours for even a hint of the clue of where the Joker and his hostages were actually being kept.

It was nearly, not really, a shame all of Joker's plans went to waste when Red Hood had stumbled onto something when scooping out Jasmine's apartment with Red Robin.

You see, not only were they looking for clues at first but something about the apartment Jasmine rented seemed off, Red Robin noticed it first and called in back up encase there was more to oldest Fenton than what they could dig up (oldest daughter of Dr's. Jackson and Madeline Fenton, grew up in a small Illinois town, straight A student and a goal to become a psychologist, has two younger siblings, etc etc) and their suspension raised up more when the moment Red Hood entered the apartment and seemed to freeze for a moment.

Red Hood couldn't really explain it but he said it felt like something was... strange. Not evil bad danger strange but it felt familiar? Like he was a kid again on the streets and had walked into someone else's territory but knew the person wouldn't be too much of a hardass about it as long as he didn't stur up trouble or disrespect. A kind of... as long as you don't fuck around you won't find out feeling.

It was because of this feeling that Jason had manged to stumble across something in the room, his instincts telling him there was more to it, and they had discovered a clunky old custom PDA hidden away in a false floorboard in the office room. Thankfully Red Robin, was there in person because the old thing apparently had a rather ingenious firewall to keep others (aka Hackers) OUT but it did nothing against someone who held the main thing.

But still it took Red Robin almost frying the damn thing to get to open up, turns out the ghost and star stickers on the PDA was a rather large hint of the pass code. Once Red Robin was in the PDA he noticed some rather interesting files, one of them labeled "Gremlin Tracking" with a tiny green blob with red eyes and a green outlined star as the icons.

Curiosity taking a hold on the most curious of the Bats he opened it up, hoping it would need another password, and watched as the screen split into two maps, one was... strange, there was no land marks or anything but the star icon seemed to be right in the middle of wherever it was and the only hint of anything was the name "baby brother" and the map labeled as IR.

The other one showed an above map of Gotham, before zooming into the city, heading towards some abandoned warehouses Red Robin knew of and stopped right at one. This was the green blob icon, the short abbreviation for Gotham in the corner of the map, and the name for the icon was 'baby sister'

Red Robin immediately got onto coms to tell the others of what apparently was a tracker for Jasmine's younger siblings. Some questioned why the young woman had trackers on her siblings, though some of the others snarked back that "oh didn't know keeping trackers on each other wasn't normal. Mind if I loose the one you got on me than?"

After a quick sweep into the warehouses camera feeds, the very few up that could be accessed, done by Oracle they quickly discovered that yes the tracking on the younger girl of the two, Danielle Fenton, was correct and that was where they and Joker were at.

Despite this, Batman decided that in order to make sure Joker didn't have suspicion that they already know his actual location he made sure to send a few of the others to the fake locations.

So here they were now, staking out the warehouse where they could see a few of the Jokers goons walking around and looking for a way into the building without alerting any of them. As they talked low into coms, Robin mentioning a possible way in for Red Robin by how small it was, Red Robin hissing back a "just because you got a growth spurt doesn't mean you can poke fun at my height you little-"

"Wait!" Red Hood suddenly hissed shouted, his tone startling the rest of them and they all turned their heads to him. Batman made a quick and harsh grunt as a way to say "report."

Under his helmet Jason's eyes were wide and wild. He could feel something, something huge was on the rise, like something was out of sight but the energy of it was felt.

And if Jason could feel it from his spot, the Jokers goons all felt the same thing from the way they all dropped their weapons, turned toward the warehouse and looked ready to bolt like scared animals.

Jason opened his mouth to explain but fell silent when the feeling suddenly popped. Whatever was causing the feeling was here and like the calm before the storm he could only watch as the first drop of rain fall.

The next thing they know, was the noise and the screaming.

It was inhuman, a mixture of noise and sounds to hard to explain. The closest they could explain was a thousand voices coming in all at once mixing with radio static that kept changing volume so only few words could be even hinted at, and the angry cawing of crows along with the flapping of their wings as they took flight. The noise was so bad that many who heard it nearly ripped their coms out, or covered their ears. Thankfully it only lasted a few seconds.

Then, the air itself shifted. It felt like the coldest of winter nights and bone chilling shivers ran down their bodies for a moment. The air was suddenly that sharp cold that hurt to breathe sometimes.

The goons surrounding the warehouse fled in fear. Many scrambling to get far, far away from whatever was happening. If they felt even a fraction of what Jason could feel, he could understand. He honestly felt like a small animal cornered by a predator and there was no escape.

Then just as suddenly as it happened, everything shifted again. The noise of Gotham returned to normal, cars honking, a stray cat hissing or a dog barking, police sirens in the distance, hissing steam from a nearby factory. The air went from winter cold to a chill mid winter harbor feel now.

Once everyone registered what had just happened and not wanting to waste anymore time they bolted towards the warehouse, cautious and alert in case they needed to fight. Batman went in first, quickly making his way to the area he knew Joker would be with the Fenton sisters and wondered just what the fuck was that? Did Joker do something? Was he messing with things outside of his usual MO?!

He walked into the room and stopped.

There was nothing.

The room was in fact the room Joker had used to record his first message to them, the layout was correct and the evidence of two people who had been tied up were still there as well, ropes that weren't cut sitting on them, a lone lamp light above shining down from above no doubt to emphasize the two girls were meant to be the 'stars' of Jokers latest show. Thing was, the two weren't there despite the fact Oracle swore she could see them a few mins ago from a camera set up in the room, she would later explain that she heard the noise as well and that all her tech had glitched hard.

The only other thing in the room was, sitting innocently on one of the chairs was a green sticky note and on a tiny pillow was a tiny sickly green orb with hints of purple, white, and red swirling in it.

A note they would later read the following message written on it after carefully examining it over.

'Joker learned not to touch what is mine to protect. Sorry not sorry, but hey one less killer clown and he was warned not my fault he didn't take it seriously... The massive amount of souls wanting to rip apart the Joker's soul into nothing was quite a sight to be honest.

They were so ruthless. Best not mess with the vengeful dead am I right?

PS. I left a tiny gift for Jason Todd aka Robin Two. It's the tiniest piece of Joker's soul left over after everyone else got done. He can finish it off since he's a reverent and all, and well they need their revenge filled in order to peacefully move on later or else they'll be stuck forever in a loop of madness and revenge. So yeah. Hope he likes the gift.'

D.P.'

It took Jason less than a second after those words were spoken out to reach for the orb, ignoring the cautious and alarmed cries of the others, and could feel deep, deep, deep in his own soul the absolute pure weeping joy as he threw the orb onto the floor, the bottom shattering thus it didn't roll away and stomped hard with his reinforced boots. Crushing the broken orb into more pieces and if one listened closely they could hear the pure screaming terror that came from it.

And Jason for the first time in years felt his rage finally leave him.

[darkeneddawning]

Escaped clone au

You know all those fics where Danny and Damian are twins but everyone first assumes Danny must be a clone? How about an au where Danny is Damian's clone who escaped the League after he was assumed dead. Damian could even have been the one to have "killed" him, back when Danny was a newly created, fully brainwashed clone minion and trying to kill Damian himself.

Danny gets adopted by the Fentons and canon goes on as normal, until Dan. Witnessing what would happen to the world should he turn evil really drove home to Danny how dangerous he is.

Even if he was confident he could be trusted with his absurd amount of power (which he isn't), what if the League of Assassins found out about him? Does he still have programming triggers from his evil assassin clone conditioning?

So, Danny does the responsible thing: he goes to Batman to turn himself in.

Cue Danny showing up on Bruce's doorstep with ghost hunting equipment, intel on the afterlife, and an almost unbelievable backstory. Somehow he still managed to be more well-adjusted than Damian.

More thoughts under the read more

Here's how I'm thinking Danny leaving the League went down:

After surviving his wounds but failing his mission, Danny (then an unnamed potential Damian replacement) knew there was no point in returning to the League. As a failure, he was meant to be disposed of. He even thought of simply allowing himself to perish, since that was what the League would do.

But he couldn't help but feel as though that would be a waste of a resource. Surely he could be of more use to the League alive than dead?

That tiny bit of rebellious logic is what caused Danny to go into hiding, only living on based on the off chance he would find opportunities to further the League's goals. Obviously, that mentality didn't last long after being exposed to the real world and meeting one Jazz Fenton.

Being adopted by the Fentons was the best cover Danny could have asked for, since any odd behavior he couldn't hide while he was learning how to be "normal" was totally overshadowed by the sheer bizarre eccentricity of his new parents. He was still the neighborhood weird kid, but even that was a major upgrade from disposable tool, so Danny considered it a win.

Anyway, if anyone likes this idea, please feel free to have at it! Interpret it as you please :)