#theme: justice

[thecutestgrotto]

Hi! Would love to request some coffee, dark academia maybe even law/justice (law school) dividers

-🤍

Hi anon! I have a bunch of coffee cups here, but I hope these work for what you’re looking for. 🩵🌸

Academia Law

•Royal Academia (more books linked there too!)•

[artsymeeshee]

It is complete…! :’D I wanted to get these done in December but life happened. Regardless, I’m glad I got to finish at a decent time. Enjoy some lovely Pines Winter bonding :D

[evercelle]

but the show must go on

[yj-polycule]

DC acknowledging all of YJ98 in an official webtoon crossover post was not on my bingo card but I’ll take it

Im ignoring the fact that whoever made this doesn't understand how a chart works and also sorted them all into the wrong category in favor of the art being cute.

[satsuha]

magician outfits...

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

At your side [End of Season 2]

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[aventurineswife]

Hi again :3 as mentioned I'm just gonna write these down as to not forget and you'll get here eventually

Platonic Boothill, Aventurine, Ratio and Jing Yuan meeting reader's biological father who is responsible for their mother's death and is generally just an awful person but wants to get his child back for reasons unknown.

Revenge is a Dish Best Served Cold

Tags: Boothill x Reader, Ratio x Reader, Jing Yuan x Reader, Aventurine x Reader, Platonic Relationships, Found Family, Protective, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy (or Bittersweet) Ending, Justice & Retribution, Revenge Themes, Confrontation, Subtle Whump, Power Displays, Strong Bonds, Reader Has a Dark Past, Mentorship Elements.

Warnings: Mentions of Parental Abuse & Neglect (emotional, possibly physical), Mentions of Murder (reader’s father killed their mother), Emotional Manipulation & Gaslighting (father trying to reclaim the reader), Mild to Moderate Violence, Themes of Found Family vs. Toxic Biological Family, Confrontation Scenes, Reader Processing Trauma.

Tagslist: @themiddletenmasibling

Boothill sat on a barrel, one leg crossed over the other, fingers toying with a bullet between his fingers. His eyes gleamed under the dim light of the saloon, narrowing as he regarded the man across from him—your father.

"You got some nerve, showin’ up here after all these years," Boothill drawled, twirling the bullet before snapping it between his fingers. "What’s the play, huh? You waltz in, say a few pretty words, and think you can take ‘em back like nothin’ happened?"

Your father sneered. "I don’t need to justify myself to some gunslinger freak."

Boothill’s grin widened, sharp teeth flashing like a predator scenting weakness. "See, that’s where you’re wrong. ‘Cause you ain't talkin’ to just me. You’re talkin’ to the one who made sure they never had to go back to you. You’re talkin’ to the man who sees right through your lies."

You stood behind Boothill, fists clenched, emotions tangled. He had always been the first to step up when you couldn’t, shielding you from the past you’d tried to escape.

"You killed their mother," Boothill continued, voice devoid of its usual humor. "And now you think you can come back, like you got some kinda right?" He chuckled darkly, shaking his head. "You lost that right the moment you pulled the trigger."

Your father scowled but didn’t move. Boothill stood up, slow and deliberate. "Now, I ain’t the law. I don’t got a badge. But I got my own way of dealin’ with muddle-fudger like you."

The mechanical plates in his fingers shifted as his hand hovered over his revolver.

"You best turn ‘round and leave, partner. Before I put you in the ground like the outlaw you are."

Your father took one last look at you. You felt the weight of his stare, the years of pain he’d inflicted. But with Boothill standing beside you, unwavering, you knew—you were never going back.

And your father knew it too.

Aventurine leaned back in his chair, fingers laced behind his head as he regarded the man before him—your father. His signature smirk was in place, but his eyes were cold, calculating.

"Ah, family reunions. Always so dramatic," he mused, adjusting the golden rings on his fingers. "But you see, I have a rule against bad investments. And you, my dear sir, are the worst kind."

Your father scoffed. "This is none of your concern. I came for my child."

Aventurine exhaled, feigning disappointment. "So predictable. You don’t actually care about them, do you? No, no, you just don’t like losing something you think belongs to you."

You stiffened beside Aventurine, but his presence was like a wall between you and the man who had haunted your nightmares.

Your father’s lips curled into a sneer. "What do you even know about it?"

"Oh, plenty," Aventurine replied smoothly, swirling the wine glass in his hand before setting it down with a clink. "See, I know the type. Men who think they own what they destroy. Men who kill and expect forgiveness. Men who show up after years of absence and think they still hold the cards."

He leaned forward, eyes glinting. "But here’s the thing—I rigged the deck before you even sat down."

A tense silence filled the air.

Aventurine smiled. "They’re not going with you. And I suggest you leave before the stakes get... lethal."

Your father hesitated, but there was something in Aventurine’s gaze, something dangerous beneath the charm. He knew when he was outmatched.

He turned sharply and walked away.

Aventurine leaned back, sighing theatrically. "Honestly, predictable men bore me."

You exhaled, tension leaving your shoulders. "Thank you."

He winked. "What are friends for, if not for running conmen like him out of town?"

Ratio stood between you and your father, arms crossed, his piercing gaze unwavering. His alabaster mask rested on the table, revealing his sharp eyes—the kind that saw through deception with ease.

"I fail to understand the logic in your request," Ratio said coolly, tilting his head. "You claim to want them back, yet you were the one who ensured they had no home to return to."

Your father clenched his jaw. "They’re my blood."

Ratio’s lips curled slightly in amusement. "Blood is merely biological happenstance. It has no bearing on worth or responsibility." He took a step forward, and though he did not raise his voice, there was an undeniable weight to his words. "You ended their mother’s life. And now, you dare demand theirs?"

Your father’s expression twisted in frustration, but Ratio’s calm, intellectual disdain was an impenetrable wall.

"Pathetic," Ratio remarked. "Your mind is so small, so desperately clinging to control you do not have. Tell me, have you truly convinced yourself that you deserve their forgiveness?"

Your father flinched.

Ratio smiled, but it held no warmth. "You are nothing but a relic of a past they’ve outgrown. Be grateful for that mercy and leave before I decide to educate you in a more... permanent manner."

Your father hesitated for only a moment before turning and vanishing into the night.

Ratio glanced at you. "Are you all right?"

You nodded, exhaling shakily. "I think so."

Ratio adjusted his cuffs, his sharp gaze softening just slightly. "Good. Then let us never speak of that fool again."

Jing Yuan sat, eyes calm but unreadable as he regarded your father. The General’s fingers drummed softly against the wooden desk, the only sound in the otherwise suffocating silence.

"You are asking for something that is no longer yours," Jing Yuan finally said, voice smooth yet firm. "And after what you have done, I wonder… do you truly believe you deserve it?"

Your father sneered. "This is none of your concern."

Jing Yuan chuckled softly, though there was no amusement in it. "You are mistaken. Everything concerning their safety is my concern."

Your father’s confidence wavered.

Jing Yuan leaned forward, resting his chin against his hand. "I have led armies, quelled rebellions, and negotiated peace among the stars. I have seen men like you, men who believe power grants them ownership over others." His gaze sharpened. "You are mistaken yet again."

Your father opened his mouth, but Jing Yuan’s next words left no room for argument.

"They are under my protection. I do not take that duty lightly."

The weight of authority in his tone was absolute. A silent warning.

Your father stiffened, realizing he had lost. Without another word, he turned and left.

Jing Yuan sighed, looking at you with a faint, knowing smile. "A shame, really. I had half a mind to throw him in a cell."

You chuckled weakly. "I wouldn’t have stopped you."

Jing Yuan placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder. "You are safe now. That is all that matters."

[koifoxes]

mv doodles

[nanenna]

This Montage Could've Been a Beach Episode

Sleepy King AU Masterpost

Sad Danny Hour is finally receding enough I can get back to the more fun and light hearted stuff. Hope you all enjoyed the angst, there's absolutely none anywhere in this fic, I promise! ;D

-----

Diana grew tired of her team arguing in circles. “Stop, all of you. We’re getting nowhere.” She glared the gathered magic users down as they all looked to her. “Young Danny has been up on the Watchtower for several hours now, it’s highly unlikely whoever made this god egg doesn’t already know where he is. I cannot in good conscience let this boy leave without at least attempting to get the Ghost King out of him.”

Constantine tossed the earpiece Danny had used earlier at Diana, who caught it easily. “Clever bit of necromancy, that earpiece. Necromancy, luv. The Ghost King.”

“Nevertheless,” Diana said firmly, “now that we know what’s causing the block, can you work around it?”

Constantine sighed deeply, but the others paid him no mind.

“There are a few spells,” Zatanna said hesitantly.

“A few tricks to get a look, at least,” Dr. Fate agreed.

“Wonder Woman said he has blessings,” Raven said quickly. “They’re likely from trials Phantom has passed.”

“Yes,” Dr. Fate agreed. “It still wouldn’t hurt to look into them, they may be affecting how Phantom interacts with Danny.”

“Before you go,” Constantine interrupted as the group turned to head back. “The first rule of god eggs is you cannot let anyone inside know they’re inside one. The chick especially.”

“That is good to know,” Diana said with a nod.

“Make sure other two know as well.” Constantine shoved his hands in his pockets and let his shoulders slump as he spoke, as if he had no faith in that fact changing how Batman and Superman would act.

Diana could understand that attitude, it likely wouldn’t.

Diana’s communicator made a noise. She pulled it out to check it.

Superman: Danny is asking for someone named “Puhdora,” we think he means you.

Ah, now Diana truly knew how Clark felt. This boy, who doesn’t even know the danger he’s currently in, has mistaken her for someone he trusts. Well, if it will help keep him calm until the matter is resolved she will do her best to be this Puhdora person.

The group quietly filed back into the kitchenette, Zatanna, Marvel, and Fate quickly making themselves some more tea while Diana leaned down to murmur Constantine’s warning in Bruce’s ear. From the way Clark’s head was tilted he heard her too. She then moved her chair around to sit on the other side of Danny from Clark. She gently brushed some hair behind the boy’s ears.

“Pindoa,” Danny drowsily mumbled, hard to hear with his mouth pressed against a mug.

“Hello again, Danny,” Diana said gently with a smile, though her thoughts were spinning. Had he just called her Pandora? As in the titaness who guarded a chest that contained many great evils? That was incredibly concerning, if the beings who created the god egg included a titan she shuddered to think who or what else were working with her. She pulled out her communicator.

Wonder Woman: He has mistaken me for the titaness Pandora. Cpt. Marvel: Well that’s not ominous Dr. Fate: At least we now know the general power level of the beings who made this god egg. Zatanna: What is a titan doing looking after the Ghost King? Constantine: Oh great a bunch of angry bloody titans

Diana was distracted as Clark pushed a tablet in front of her. As she took the device she glanced over to see Bruce tapping away at his wrist computer. How kind of the man. And the device was already open to Phantom’s file, truly Bruce was very thoughtful. Diana angled the tablet so Danny wouldn’t be able to read the screen and started reading over everything Bruce had collected so far.

The pressure in the room began building again. She could feel the energies swirling around them as the magic users began casting their spells once more. She glanced over at Danny from the corner of her eye, he was yawning again. Ah, so he felt it too. As should be expected, even if they weren’t entirely sure how aware Phantom was of the situation.

The most important thing right now was to find out how entwined the two were after that cult’s summoning ritual. Constantine had stated that the boy had died and the Ghost King was the only thing keeping him alive, that likely his mind would be ripped asunder by the tyrant when he woke. Would Phantom be the same? Would the shredding happen on its own or was it a choice? As Diana skimmed through the information Bruce had gathered on the new king she couldn’t help thinking surely if it were a choice Phantom would do all in his power to protect young Danny. Time and again the young spirit had put himself in harm’s way to protect the people of Amity Park. Yes, he stumbled from time to time, everyone does. It was quite clear to Diana that this god egg wasn’t a series of trials for a tested hero, but rather a playpen for a young child.

A weight leaned against her side. Diana looked over to find Danny had switched from leaning against Clark to leaning against her. She tenderly brushed his hair from his face again and smiled down at the boy, who sighed in contentment.

If only gods didn’t view mortals as little more than play things. Phantom may be a small child in a playpen, but children were rough on their toys and mortals were so very fragile. There had miraculously been no deaths due to Phantom’s trials, she sent up a silent plea that Danny wouldn’t be the first.

The group chat, which was minimised in the corner of the screen, started moving. Diana expanded it to see what was going on.

Zatanna: I don’t think there’s anything we can do. Dr. Fate: It’s likely part of Phantom’s trials, to find a way to get out without hurting the boy. Cpt. Marvel: Assuming it’s actually part of the trials and not an accident. I doubt Phantom getting summoned is part of the god egg. Wonder Woman: Judging from the information Batman has been gathering, Phantom has a rapport with the children of Amity Park and will likely do all in his power to not harm Danny. Constantine: Sending the kid back to where the adults can keep an eye on him would be best Batman: If you’re all in agreement.

Diana glanced over to see Bruce frowning down at his wrist computer. She did not like the conclusion any more than him, but there was only so long they could risk a titan’s wrath, let alone the wrath of wherever else was working with Pandora.

Clark scooted his chair back, took a deep breath, then slapped his hands on his knees, “Well.”

Danny scrambled to chug the rest of his hot cocoa and distractedly put the mug down so he could stand with Clark. Diana couldn’t help smiling as she serenely stood to keep pace with them. Despite having rushed, Danny stifled yet another yawn and blearily shuffled after Clark as the man considerately kept his pace slow for the sleepy boy.

Diana sent out a quiet prayer he would be well.

They must have made quite the procession as their group headed for the Zeta tubes: Constantine and Raven well ahead of them, Clark, Danny, and Diana clustered together, followed shortly by Batman, Zatana, Dr. Fate, and Captain Marvel trailing after. Quite the escort for one single teenager who was basically sleep walking through the Watchtower.

“Ow!”

Diana startled and looked to the side just in time to see Danny bending down to pick up what appeared to be a boomerang, his other hand rubbing absently at the side of his head.

Danny heaved a great sigh, “Guess Jazz got imp-... uh… what?” He looked around at them, fully awake and clearly confused.

“Well, it’s a good thing we were just taking you home then, right?” Clark asked with a nervous chuckle.

Danny looked at the group of heroes around him, then down at the strangely glowing boomerang. Clark reached forward, likely to try gently encouraging Danny to continue down the hallway, towards where Constantine was staring at them in open mouthed shock.

Danny ran.

[benevolenterrancy]

("Always. Continuously. With increasing apprehension, and decreasing hope. I will love you if I never see you again, and I will love you if I see you every Tuesday. I will love you as a corpse loves the beak of the vulture. I will love you no matter what happens to you, and no matter how I discover what happens to you, and no matter what happens to me as I discover this." -- paraphrased from The Beatrice Letters, Lemony Snicket)

[peepreadscomics]

Thinking about the nightmare 90s!Tim has in YJ01...

Tim's kneeling on the sidewalk, gawking in horror at his hand. His wrist is wrapped with bandages, and his hand has been replaced with a batarang.

His actual hand, glove, and all have fallen off, swarmed by the killer cockroaches of Gotham's streets.

Young Justice 1998 01

Idk, I can't stop thinking about how part of him is replaced with something Batman made, honed, and curated for efficiency and vigilanteism.

A part of Tim is just laying there... swarmed and consumed by the unkillable vermin of Gotham streets.

Here it is again; Tim's fear of slowly becoming someone that he isn't. Becoming a tool and a weapon, less human and more machine.

And then there's Batman in this nightmare. Standing tall, ready to move on... nonchalantly asking Tim to grow a beard so he can make a personal use of his shiny new appendage.

But it's the,

Don't worry, Robin... No one will notice.

that's just smacking me across the face.

A part of Tim is dead and gone, but dont worry, kid! No one's gonna care enough to notice! (This is not a dig towards Tim's parents btw. Ill talk abt the Drakes in a different post.)

Batman brushes off Tim's horror—when lil bro's literally choking with horror—with an assurance that everything that Tim's afraid of will come true and, hey! it isnt a big deal.

Of course, this is Tim's nightmare view of Batman and not a characterization on Bruce, but it's just another example of how Tim sees Batman as a symbol that has consumed Bruce. (So, also not a dig towards Bruce, btw. He gets his own post later, too)

Since Tim's first few appearances, he's been terrified of becoming consumed by justice (?), vengeance, and vigilanteism.

Between his visceral fear at the comfort/hug from Bruce when his mom died, to a different nightmare featuring nightwing, to this nightmare, to rejecting comfort from Bruce at Steph's funeral, to hating Robin and himself after his father's death, and faking an uncle to get away from Batman??

It just shows how terrified he is of becoming someone he isnt...

And this nightmare in particular adds this: he's afraid no one will notice.

Young Justice 1998 01

It makes sense how his attempts to try and prevent the erasure of who he is would slowly escalate with every death. And with so many other heroes just... coming back... and coming back the same or even "close enough"?

It's easy to reach the point of rejecting death entirely. (am i side eyeing people who compare his reactions to certain people's death as a valid measure to who's more important to him? Maybe. Thats a different post tho)

Anyway. Fast forward like 3ish years later...

Red Robin 2009 01

Haha. I love self fulfilling prophecies.

Bart's Nightmare

Kon's Nightmare

[peppermint-candy]

[kiyomitakada]

i greatly enjoy the "lying monster who plays with human lives like barbies" flavor of L characterization myself but i have been spinning around all his more compassionate moments in my head recently (visibly repressing ukita and naomi; ordering all cars off the highway they're chasing higuchi on; asking the other task force members to not look at the yagami household surveillance footage for soichiro's sake; etc) in conjunction with the way he genuinely would rather sacrifice civilians to catch kira than save them with even the mildest possibility kira would get away; and i am thinking about how little we really get into his head and i do wonder how he feels about his job, because he never voices regret out loud but we get to see him think twelve fbi agents dead… twelve precious lives… and so maybe he does feel guilt for who he is, what he does, but ultimately does it matter? they're still dead. he still tries to murder a prisoner to test the thirteen-day rule. corpses don't care about motive. you're just a childish killer playing at divine retribution. what im trying to say is that l lawliet could be representation for a rarely depicted demographic: high empathy people who suck

[dykedvonte]

I think depictions of Anya being cruel to Curly or drawing out his suffering are artful and chilling but completely miss the point of the story and her character.

I'm not saying she doesn't deserve to have that "I told you so" moment with him but not in something callous or cold. Even if that is how it happened, she'd immediately feel guilty cause at that point she's not tormenting her tormenter or even the person truly at fault. She's doing something cathartic, similar to how Jimmy likely hits Curly to release rage he can't against the rest of the crew. She'd see herself as no different when she'd come back from the moment and see Curly cowering at her. She wants someone to take responsibility but how does being cruel to the defenseless help? Why would she want the power Jimmy has over her over Curly?

The idea of her extending someone else's pain is just so against the struggles she already faces and how she can't even bring herself to cause someone pain even to help them. Her very desire is to release herself from her own suffering and I doubt she'd even fine some sort of guilty release in being cruel to another.

[comicpolls]

[7cfc00]

home is where the heart is (and yours is gone)