#the start of found family

[finisnihil]

You can pry the other Stellaron Hunters going out of their way to be kind to Blade out of my cold dead hands. Every time they mention Blade it's always in a kind way, he's a person to them no matter how much he isn't one to himself. Kafka calls him a cute nickname, Silver Wolf tries to get him to game with her, and Firefly brings him oak rolls because she knows he'll appreciate it. When we make a little cat cake that looks like him, Silver Wolf knows he likes it. They steal his phone all the time and he lets them. Yingxing is dead but he is still so loved even if by different people.

You up-keep a blade because you care about it

[bluerosefox]

Once again. A new DPxDC idea/prompt.

(Deaged! Danny, Dan, Ellie, and Jazz!)

Enjoy my random ideas.

Look.

Selina....

Selina wasn't expecting this when she decided to have some fun and do what she does best.

She just meant to sweet talk her way into Master's gala/party. Flirt and get info, maybe some blackmail. Steal away the rare cat themed artifact he had recently gotten (and also steal away his actual cat, such a lovely little diva it is too). then she was going to disappear into the night like always.

So...

Selina casted her eyes into the mirror of her car and could see the tiny children she had rescued from Master's hidden basement lab. All but one was asleep, the oldest out of them, although she seemed to be losing that fight from the way her head was falling forward, eyes closing but would jerk herself back awake when she realized she was falling asleep.

Curled up as hard and as much as they could towards the little redhead was three dark haired children, Selina mused that they'd fit right in with Bruce and his little bats/birds.

Two were near identical boys, though one seemed to be much paler than the other and if she remembered right one had red eyes and the other had blue, and the last one of the sleeping kids was a tiny toddler, a girl she heard was named 'Ellie' from the others.

Selina took note that the red head, Jazz, had finally fallen asleep a few minutes later. With a deep breath as she drove further and further away from that... that insane Fruitloop (she overheard the two boys call him that as they ran to her car) Master's place, she blindly reached for her phone and pressed a single digit on the screen, knowing it will connect to her car and call up the only person she can trust to help her with this.

"Selina." came the gravely voice after a single ring, sounds like she caught him on patrol but he seemed to be in a spot where he was okay to say her actual name over coms or she caught him before his night shift started.

"Hello Darling, I need your help with some kittens I found and to help me... Put away their terrible old owner."

[mimimar]

i've been completely charmed by witch hat atelier♡

(art prints)

[nittroy]

When space whale design so good you can't just steal it to your own cosmoopera story so you have to draw your first fanart in years and revive your tumblr art blog to post it

[other version and image description under the cut!]

Ezra version ♡

[ID: A horizontal artwork showing Exra Bridger from season 2 of Star Wars: Rebels and the group of space whales, Purgil. The purgil are floating in space and one of them, closest to the viewing point, is positioned so that its eye coincides with one of Ezra's eyes. Their eyes are shining teal blue. Ezra is depicted in a somewhat abstract way, he stands waist high and the space behind him, but behind the whales.

In the second version of the image, Ezra is in the foreground, while the Purgil is only in the background. He is standing and holding his lightsaber, looking somewhat lost in thought. ]

[ghostbsuter]

Danny had been around Gotham for a while.

The crime was never ending, but since Batman's arrival, it had gotten better.

The unmistakably CLANK! From around the corner had him jump, wary now. The man walks around the wall, eyes on the black car with— with Batman's symbol at the front.

A child sitting on the ground with a car tire next to him, the Bat Symbol a stark contrast to the shadows.

"Shit, kid. You're bold to rob Batman." Danny didn't really realise he was speaking until the kid looks up, spooked.

"What the fuck?" The kid was clearly of Gotham breed, yelps with a glare.

"I'm impressed," Danny doesn't give the kid the chance to talk, not with the way the tiny terror seems to be glaring and holding his wrench.

"You're quick, got eyes for details and know how to work around cars."

The suspicion in the kids eyes didn't lessen, having gotten up to press himself against the wall, eyes never leaving Danny.

"Here," Our local spook threw a card on the hood of the car. It was his business card.

"If you need income with far fewer risks than stealing from Batman, call me."

He didn't really wait to see the kids reaction, just leaving, bot before shooting a look into the sky the kid clearly caught.

As danny left, the kid looked at the entrance of the alleyway, back to the car, and then to the card.

They had talked for too long. Jason had to leave now, lest Batman actually caught him.

With one last look to the tires and the car, he leaves eith a scowl.

Just barely missing the man with the cape.

[gros-chat-fait]

Just six normal teens hanging out in the woods. --

100th post and final drawing of the year. Happy holidays and new year, everyone <3!

[spkyart]

I would die for each one of them tbh

[minty364]

DPXDC Prompt #72

One thing Danny hated about being a halfa is you don’t age. Unfortunately this also means that when you’re de-aged to age 10 you stay at age 10. The GIW did some awful things before they were disbanded but Danny stayed in the realms. He was their king after all. Thousands of years go by and the Justice League decides to summon the Ghost King to deal with a major threat (you can pick what it is) and they summon a 10 year old. Danny decides he’s going to mess with the people of this world.

[so-i-did-this-thing]

My cartoonishly transphobic aunt is dying and my last memory of her is of her in the back of my grandfather's hospice room - where he had just died, his body still in the bed - making up vicious rumors about myself to anyone who'd listen, while I was consoling her distraught husband and son.

This is the legacy of transphobes.

I suppose the most damning feeling I have towards this woman is this memory that has eclipsed all others. Because otherwise, I do not think of her at all, other than when my mother brings me news like this.

Nor do I think of my aunt's husband and son, anymore, as they were always too cowardly to examine their own harmful actions (much less stop them) when I popped up as the queer black sheep of the family. And yet they still needed me for emotional support.

Going no-contact with transphobic family - of which I am a firm proponent - can be hard at first, but I could only hold my head high for so long.

And now, here once again looking at my extremely small extended family dwindle even further, I feel nothing. A pity it ended up that way.

[vvyvernicus]

I just started watching Moriarty the Patriot. It has such a wholesome premise. It's about a noble boy who invites two orphan commoner boys into his family. Then they do community services together like cleaning up the trash around London.

[jklpopcorn]

The food is burning.

[bluerosefox]

The MANY Bloodlines of Constantine

Those Constantine is Danny's dad and sold his kid soul because he thought he'd actually never have one and Danny is now the Ghost King so his soul claims are invalid AUs but learns he's not Constantine only kid (after a while Constantine honestly 100% thought he'd never have kids and never bothered with a 1st born clause when making deals, maybe some annoyed deity or powerful magic user made Constantine think he can't have kids anymore just to get back at the conman) and now doing everything in his Kingly power to save his half-siblings (can be other teens from other shows or movies or cartoons etc etc) because Danny is the oldest of them and really really wants to punch his biodad for making such a huge mess he has to deal with but Danny does get to meet and protect his younger Half-siblings.

Then comes the day he's celebrating one of his half-sibs birthday with all the others when he's suddenly summoned out of the blue and meets not just the Justice League but his, and his half-sibs, no good soul selling biodad.

Hello rightly placed aggression.... Once he takes care of that powerful evil spirit that's attacking earth first of course.

[lovesickeros]

☆ even the gods bleed

{��} characters furina, neuvillette {☆} notes cult au, imposter au, multi-chapter, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings blood, injury, light angst {☆} word count 2.3k

What was justice?

Focalors had asked herself that question many times during the long nights she spends awake pouring over the prophecy of a dead God, words replaying in her mind like a broken record until the sun rose like a blooming flower.

She was the God of Justice, an Archon, yet she herself lacked the answer to such a simple and yet so very complex question.

How does one define what is just and what is not? How does she know that what she believes to be just is right? Is it justice if one being alone may sway the scales of justice on a whim? What justice is there to be found in the cold, watery grave that awaits her nation?

She does not know.

Perhaps she may never know.

What she does know, at least, is that this is not justice.

It is a mockery of it.

She stands before the bloodied, broken body like the judge, her sword held so tightly in her hand her fingers feel stiff, a dull ache adding to the weight of what she's seen. For a long, horrible moment she almost thinks they are dead – something she would have reveled in, only a day prior – before she sees the subtle rise and fall of their chest. Breathing, but barely.

The rain felt heavier upon her shoulders at the realization – she was not sure if it was in relief or horror.

Her nails dig into her palm, mind stuck somewhere between that abject horror and confusion so palpable she swore she could hear the gears in her head turning.

For a long, silent moment as she stares upon the body beneath the heavy rain..she wonders if this is how it all ends instead. If the world itself will simply crumple in on itself and cease – without its heart, it will wither, after all – long before the waters ever swallow her nation whole.

Because, try as she might to rationalize it, for every drop of rain that hits her like pins and needles, soaking her down to the bone..the body of the imposter is completely dry. Even the water pooling along the stones dares not to leave so much as a splotch against their ragged, torn clothes.

She remembers the meeting so very clearly, and she thinks she is a fool to not have noticed sooner – the Creator upon their gilded throne, finger pointed in accusation at the visage far too similar to their own. The imposter. She remembers the lilt of their voice as they called for their death as easily as one would speak of the weather – and to no one other then herself would she admit the spark of fear it had ignited within her. Because beneath the divine charade there was a sick enjoyment in the way they looked upon the imposter – like a bug beneath their shoe.

She understands, now.

She had thought that perhaps finally – finally – she could do right by her people, by her Creator, if she rid Teyvat of this..intrusion.

Now she sees herself as what it all really is – blind lambs following the herder.

Perhaps she would be considered a heretic under the eyes of the law – beneath the weight of justice, heavy as the heart that bears its sins. Perhaps this is a mistake, one she would come to regret.

But for now, she sheathes her blade with unsteady hands, the sound making her ears ring – for what she had almost done, what she had already done – as she stumbles like a newborn lamb towards the broken body of..

..What, exactly? Human? Divine? She is not so sure what to call them. Creator? No. The name is bitter upon her tongue, now, burning like liquid flame down her throat.

Where once she had spoken it in reverence and admiration, it felt hollow and empty, now.

Her vision wavers as she kneels down against the rain soaked stones, the rain upon her back growing heavier as she reaches a shaky hand forth – and for a moment, however brief, she feels the weight of expectation, of a title she fears she may never live up to, wash away with the waters that fall from the heavens.

The bruises and blood smeared across their skin are like strokes of a paintbrush, their body the canvas from which such horrid art is created. It makes her ill.

Doubt wavers her composure briefly – her position is already unsteady. She has never been seen as an equal to many of the other Archons. Her own people do not see her as their Archon, but an actor in a grand play that they shall simply toss aside and replace like a broken doll the moment she bores them.

What does she have left to lose?

She reaches out again, her hand settling onto their shoulder and turning them onto their back. She..isn't sure what to do, actually. She's never been particularly physically capable – she tended to avoid fights, even if she oft provoked them – and she was certainly no healer.

Yet what choice does she have but to march on anyway? She is in the heart of the city, it is far more dangerous here then anywhere else..she had little time to make her move.

Fontaine was, after all, a nation founded on the principle of justice. To know an injustice has been made against the most Divine..the entire nation was in a frenzy.

Her eyes dart around nervously, hands clasped tight on their shoulders and her lips drawn into a taut line – someone would notice her absence. One of the Archons would point out her absence in the coordination of the search.

Her options were just as limited as her time – she couldn't just take them out of the city. Security was tight, and as much as she fancied herself an escape artist – Neuvillette could hardly keep her in one place for too long – she doubted she could do the same with the limp body of the imposter in tow.

..The Palais Mermonia it was, then.

Her room had a secret entrance that few knew about, and even fewer would dare to traverse. She just..had to hide them there for a bit and hope Neuvillette wouldn't notice anything different.

Probably.

Still, there was the problem of actually..transporting the body. As grim as it sounded. Her only solace was the fact she didn't have to worry about them catching a cold, at least, and their breaths were still audible, if only barely. So she had to resort to some..unexpected methods.

Seeing the limp form of, well, the imposter – she'd really have to ask for something else to call them when they woke up – stuck in a bubble of hydro wasn't exactly on her bucket list.

Then again, neither was treason.

Well, first time for everything, right?

It wasn't breaking the law if no one else knew about it.

..Neuvillette didn't have to know about it, really. It was fine.

She could, of course, technically try to talk some sense into Neuvillette – he'd listen to her, right? She thought she was pretty close with him..but he was also the one person more obsessed with justice then she was. Such a stickler for the law..so maybe she's breaking a few, it's fine.

But he was also pretty devout, as much as he tried to keep his worship private – with Focalors around, nothing was really secret. Maybe she could get him to settle down long enough to prove it.

..How was she going to prove it?

An exaggerated groan escaped her lips as she led the bubbled imposter – she really wished she didn't have to resort to that, it would be a lot a more awkward to explain then dragging the body around – through the winding streets of Fontaine. She's just glad she's already memorized the entire city like the back of her hand..and a little dramatics went a long way. People listened when the Hydro Archon spoke, and she was suddenly very, very glad for that fact, even if they treated her more like a mascot then a God.

And partially because she, maybe, just a little..stole a few documents detailing the layout and a little personal exploration of her own – but what Neuvillette didn't know couldn't hurt him!

After what felt like hours, though was really no more then half an hour at best, she'd managed to drag herself – soaked to the bone with rain – and the conveniently bubbled imposter up through the secret entrance and into her room.

The perceived safety, as flimsy as it was, was..comforting. Until she heard the rustle of fabric, the clearing of a throat and the pop of a bubble as she, in her surprise, popped it – and then the thud of the imposter hitting the floor.

She felt a bit of regret about that part, at least, wincing.

"Lady Furina." His voice was as sharp and cool as she remembered it always being – like fresh spring water, she'd heard it described. Soothing. It did not feeling very soothing right about now.

She turned sharply on her heel, a forced smile tugging at her lips on reflex, every muscle in her body tensed – she probably looked like a wet cat right about now, soaked with rain, but that was the last thing on her mind.

"Do you mind explaining what, exactly, you did?" Not what you're doing, she notes – what she did. He was mad. Oh, she was really in for a scolding now. She twiddled her thumbs, laughing weakly, though it quickly dies out at the awkward, tense silence.

"Well, you see – it's rather complicated! I can– I can explain." Her attempts to diffuse are met with a raised brow and the sharp tap of his cane. Every single thought is plagued with the urge to run, but the unsteady breathes of the 'imposter' keep her rooted in place. "Well?"

She was sweating bullets, her nails digging into her palm as she scrambled for any excuse that could warrant her not getting hauled off and scolded thoroughly at best – she was coming up empty. How was she supposed to prove that the 'imposter' was very much not what the 'Creator' said they were? Their unconscious body was doing no one any favors, certainly.

"The Creator is lying," She blurts out, immediately regretting her impulsiveness when she feels the sudden weight of his stare – the piercing hues of his eyes that remind her just who is the strongest between them. It is not her, she knows. It never has been. "You can see for yourself! Don't you trust me, Neuvillette–?"

Her voice is cut off by the sharp click of his cane as he strides across the room in only a few steps, his height making her feel like a child about to scolded. She hated it, but she grit her teeth through the exchange. She reminded herself that this was for the sake of the 'imposter' and any affront to her ego was..tolerable.

To her credit, too, she didn't immediately lash out when she saw him poke at their body with his cane, turning them onto their back – she wanted too, though. She considered it, but the thought was quickly shot down when his stare turned back upon her, and she felt frozen in place again, her tongue a heavy weight in her mouth.

Yet she couldn't shake the sudden tenseness to his shoulders, his brows furrowed and a distant look to his eyes. It was..haunting, in a way.

She knows it well, she realizes. The realization and acceptance, the crumbling of every solid foundation you've ever known – leaving you to flounder in the waves, alone and afraid.

The gentleness in which he picks up the limp body surprises her though, his cane set aside. The rain howls like a horrid storm outside, but she cannot focus on anything but the furrow of their brows, the soft noise that escapes their lips.

"I trust that you know that this must stay between us," His voice is soft, like the gentle lap of waves against the shore, as he sets their body down against the bed, his hand lingering against their cheek with something almost like reverence – and if her eyes do not deceive her, affection. "Lady Furina."

She does not hesitate to agree.

"Well– well of course!" She huffs, crossing her arms over her chest and frowning at the feeling of her wet clothes clinging to her skin, a heavy weight that feels like it's dragging her down. "Just what do you take me for?"

He doesn't deign to respond.

It only makes her fume more.

Not that he seems to notice, unbuttoning his heavy outerwear and tossing it on the bed, rolling up his sleeves and focusing on the injured– er..yeah, she really needed a new name for them. Calling them imposter felt wrong.

"So long as you understand, then we will have no problems." She huffs again, pouting and puffing up her cheeks, sitting down on the other end of the bed with only an occasional glance towards him as he worked at peeling away the ragged clothes and examining the injuries marring their skin.

She suddenly felt out of place.

..What was she supposed to be doing?

As if noticing her sudden quietness, Neuvillette sighed, his back turned to her though his attention very much falling upon her. She really hated the feeling like she was being dissected whenever he looked at her. It was unnerving. She doesn't know how anyone else handles it..

"If you are so eager to do something, Lady Furina, then please have something brought up for when our..guest awakens. They will need to recover their strength."

Finally! Something she can do. She perks up, her heels clicking on the floorboards as she darts out like a bullet, unable to stay still for so much as a moment.

Neuvillette, for his part..

Feels an odd sense of serenity as he stares upon the troubled features of the..guest. A peace that lessens the burdens upon his shoulders, the weight of a nation upon his back.

He cannot hear the rain, anymore.

..It must have stopped.

[utilitycaster]

I respect that post about "found family" being misused as a term because people overlay nuclear family structures but actually I rarely see that. It is far more frequent to see people trying to force speedrun a group of loosely connected characters into a lifelong bond so they can call it found family, OR getting mad that a genuinely tight-knit group still has their own separate lives outside just each other and don't all live in one big house. Found family can be great but sometimes characters are just friends or not even that, and that doesn't mean the story is any worse for it. And even if they are a found family that does not mean they will always get along nor constantly be within ten feet of each other until the end of time.

[wassupmygays]

i love you tiny costume details. i love tiny pieces of jewelry or patches that add so much to a character. i love you costume designers that allow for personalization. i love you i love you i love you

[lenislynx]

Oh, Siffrin….