I want overflowing inspiration and I want to get back into making art and I want to feel better and I want to become someone I like and am proud of and I want I want I want
Acquired Stardust

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almost home

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if i look back, i am lost
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❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
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Kaledo Art
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@alienzil
I want overflowing inspiration and I want to get back into making art and I want to feel better and I want to become someone I like and am proud of and I want I want I want

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I love the idea of Lex parenting Kon because he strikes me as the world’s worst helicopter mom but also in the sense that everything they do is a direct way to say “fuck you” to the kid’s dad. Lex probably does have some affection for Kon, I mean if you go through all that trouble to obtain Superman’s DNA, probably go through trial and error growing the baby and then hey presto, here’s a living breathing symbol of your love hatred of Superman, you will probably grow attached to the little guy. So imagine if you will, Lex being open to co-parenting with Superman while Kon is growing up rather than sending Kon against him straight away.
Lex meeting Superman on top of Lex Corp with a diaper bag and Kon sat on his hip. “You’re late.” To which Superman reminds him that he was late because one of Lex’s schemes. Lex hands over Kon, asking where the car seat is and Superman just sighs and says that he’s going to fly him home which has Lex hitting the roof over safety.
Kon getting very sick as a kid and Lex calling Superman to get his ass over to Lex Corp and Superman arrives, hearing Lex’s anxieties that Kon is dying because of all those vaccines that Superman insisted he get inky for Superman to ask whether Lex had been handling any Kyrptonite recently? Yup, Kon has Kryptonite poisoning. He just needs to bask in a yellow sun for a while. Lex flies off the handle becuase HOW DARE SUPERMAN CALL HIM A BAD FATHER WHEN HE’S LITERALLY NEVER AROUND?
Lex interrupting one of their fights to ask Superman where Kon is staying while he’s got his spandexed ass flying at his drones? “I bet you he’s with that hussy Clark Kent. Yes, Superman, I know you’ve been sleeping with him. All those exclusives? Please, do you think I was born yesterday?”
“Kon tells me that you said he didn’t have to eat the strained peaches I packed for him? I know your alien ass is probably allegric to normal Earth fruit but my son-“ Lex leans down to listen to his assistant who has a report that Kon is in fact allergic to peaces and it runs in Lex’s family.
Lex yelling at Superman to talk to their son about all of this punk nonsense and this music all the while plummelling him in a droid suit.
Lex reminding Superman that they have a parent teacher conference with Kon’s school and they both can’t be there via videochat. Lex is incensed when Clark Kent shows up to the meeting in person as Superman could not.
Lex asking Kon about Superman’s love life. “I just want to know what trollops he has around my son.”
Lex being “supportive” when Kon comes out and announces he’s dating Red Robin only to drunk call Superman and yell at him for making their son gay with all his liberalness and making him hang around with the Bats. “I mean, the way you stare at the Bat, of course he thinks it’s alright!”
Lex getting a little broody when Kon finally leaves the nest (denounces his father’s plans for him to kill his other dad) and he’s thinking that yes, while the plan to use Kon to kill Superman is a bust, he had sort of the right thinking just the wrong execution. He starts eyeing up Batman and those child bearing hips of his.
Ghost of a Chance
Gotham was not a city known for its kindness. Rain slicked the alleyways like a second skin, and shadows crept where sunlight dared not linger. Alfred Pennyworth had seen a great many things in this city. Muggers, monsters, and masked madmen were just part of the nightly routine. What he hadn't expected, however, was to be saved by a ghost.
Or something very much like one.
It was supposed to be a quick errand—a quiet evening walk to clear his head. But halfway down Burnside, three desperate men with more bravado than brains cornered him. Alfred had been ready to disarm the first and disable the second, but he never got the chance. A blur of white and black swooped in, accompanied by the distant, bone-deep hum of unnatural power. The muggers were down in seconds—one frozen to the wall, another knocked out cold, and the third suspended midair by a glowing hand that flickered green.
The boy was there and gone just as fast. Alfred barely had time to register the tattered hoodie, the hollow cheeks, the white hair and green eyes that didn’t seem quite human.
"Wait—!" Alfred had called, but the boy was already gone, melting into the shadows like smoke.
The encounter would’ve ended there—just another strange chapter in Gotham’s nightbook—if it hadn’t kept happening.
Twice more, the mysterious young man appeared. Once to stop a purse snatcher near the theater. Another time to drag a lost child out of a crumbling building during a fire. Always fast, always silent. Always gone before Alfred could properly speak to him.
And always too thin.
It was the kind of thin that spoke of long nights without food. Hollow cheeks, knobby elbows, a belt cinched too tight around jeans that barely stayed up. It reminded Alfred of the early days—of Dick, of Jason, of Tim, of Damian. Of boys who had learned to survive instead of live.
Alfred Pennyworth had a rule: no one went hungry on his watch.
And so began his campaign.
At first, it was subtle. A wrapped sandwich left behind after one of the ghost-boy’s heroic appearances. A thermos of hot tea left conveniently near a rooftop perch. A backpack, clean and durable, filled with protein bars and fresh socks. Most of it vanished, though Alfred never saw it happen.
Then came the note, scrawled in messy, tired handwriting:
“Thanks. You didn’t have to. I’m not sticking around though. It’s safer for you if I don’t.”
The next day, Alfred left a response tucked in the same spot:
“You are not a danger, young man. I’ve seen far worse, and fed far worse. If you insist on continuing your streak of rooftop chivalry, I insist you do so on a full stomach.”
He added a slice of quiche. It was gone by morning.
Bruce raised an eyebrow the first time he caught Alfred baking two loaves of banana bread instead of one. Tim said nothing when the supply order mysteriously included a half dozen extra protein shakes and thermal gloves in medium size. Damian made a snide comment—something about stray ghosts haunting the pantry—but Alfred didn’t dignify it with a reply.
Then came the night it changed.
A patrol gone wrong. Batman caught in a collapsing parking garage. The comms went dead. Nightwing was too far. Red Hood was tracking Penguin. The only one nearby—untraceable, unregistered, and undeniably powerful—was the boy Alfred had been feeding for weeks.
He left the beacon on the rooftop.
“Help him. Please. –A.P.”
Within minutes, Bruce stumbled through the Batcave entrance, soot-smudged and breathing, but alive. Behind him, almost hidden in the shadows, was the boy. White hair. Green eyes. Shivering slightly, but still on his feet.
“I didn’t do it for favors,” the boy said. His voice was hoarse, too young for his haunted face. “I just... couldn’t let him die.”
“I know,” Alfred said gently. “Which is precisely why the offer of dinner still stands.”
“…I shouldn’t.” But his eyes drifted toward the warm lights of the manor beyond the cave, toward the smell of fresh bread and something sweet baking in the oven.
“No one escapes me forever, dear boy,” Alfred said with a small smile. “Not even slippery ghosts.”
The boy stared at him for a long moment. Then finally, like a candle burning out, he sagged.
“…Okay. Just for tonight.”
“Of course,” Alfred said, already turning toward the kitchen. “We’ll start with soup.”
Behind him, the boy whispered a name like an afterthought—like something long buried finally being said aloud.
“Danny. My name’s Danny.”
“Well then, Master Danny,” Alfred said, with the same fondness he reserved for all his wayward sons, “welcome home.”
DP x DP fic recs
Unique or well-executed tropes, all platonic edition! Just because I feel like it.
COMPLETED
City Pigeons Bleed Green by PaperPuffin
Danny is Bruce Wayne's clone. He's discovered by the Bats, who promptly adopt him. Lots of angst and trauma, skittish Danny, very sweet. 20/20 chapters
Ghosts, Legacies, and CPS by Ace_of_Roses & Karnia_Queen
Vlad calls CPS on Danny. To avoid being placed into Vlad's custody, he goes to a distant biological relative for help - Tim Drake. This one is literally so good. Lots of identity shenanigans. 6/6 chapters
Grave Promises by Blueseabird2
Dick Grayson was trapped in the Ghost Zone years ago and taught newly-Phantom Danny how to be a vigilante. After a reveal gone wrong, Danny seeks out Dick "years" later for help. 11/11 chapters
Like Facing Off Against C'Thulu, but it's Really Just your Fears by nerdpoe
Emotionally devasating. Dick is vivisected by the Fentons and Danny rescues him. The Bats rescue Danny in turn. One of my all-time favorites that you must read. 4/4 chapters
TWINcognito Mode by nerdpoe
Another one of my absolutely favorites. Nerdpoe, you get me. Danny is Tim Drake's clone, and they decide to be twins (and mess with the rest of the family in the process). 6/6 chapters
The Bat Trap by Threee
The Parent Trap, but with the demon twins who don't know they're twins. This one is such a journey. 33/33 chapters
Mycella Nightcap It's getting close to my favorite spooky season and my head is full of art ideas sprouting like mushrooms ahahaha
I'm really excited to go mushroom hunting after my move to Sweden. I actually poisoned myself once because while the mushroom I found was edible, the tree it was growing on was toxic and leached toxins into the mushroom. I vomited three times, 0/10 do not recommend. I'll have be to extra careful when foraging in Sweden!

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Here’s my take on Ancient of Space/Ghost King Danny. His wings can be used like shields, with the outsides being pitch black and the inside having actual constellations and stars (from the human realm and Ghost Zone)
Why hands? A. They look pretty awesome and I like to think that he can change the whites of wings to be black and completely blend in with the night sky. Also have an idea for spooky imagery where Danny can manipulate shadows with his wings and the shadows have hands. Dark like spilled ink and when he flies they leave trails.
The wings also act like shields, because the dark outside parts can literally suck anything into them, like a black hole. And when the wings are enclosed around people, it’s like they are floating completely in space, with no idea where the wings start or end.
and Lichtenstein figure that branches out from the hand that pressed the button (and has the Ring) and coalesces where his core is on his chest. :3
That’s all from me folks
OH WAIT—
I was playing around with light, so, I dunno, here’s this. Also could someone maybe tell me how to get better image quality on tumblr? These are png.s so… I don’t know…
And here’s normal version without spooky ghost powers (if not counting the wings) Eldritch creature Danny is a yes in my book
Ao3: Dear, I'm going to a medical appointment on Friday, could you take care of the children?
Tumblr: Of course, my lovely. How long? One hour, two hours?
Ao3 : Actually... Probably most of the day. The doctor estimated it at 20 hours.
Tumblr: 20 HOURS?!!!
Ao3: It could be less! But, yes. 20 hours give or take.
Tumblr: Must you ?
Ao3: Would you rather have me falling ill and collapsing?
Tumblr: Of course not! But 20 hours... What am I supposed to do with the kids all this time?
Ao3: I don't know, juggling maybe? It seems to be very en vogue nowadays.
some robins on the way home
A Vulcan named Stork works at the Terran adoption agency. Parents always request that he be the one to deliver their child to them.
It’s years before anyone explains it to him.
People keep gifting him robes with long white birds on them.
The fun thing is he would understand why people were getting him outfits with storks on them. That’s a word, it’s his name, straightforward. All the humans get him the same gag gift, but like, they’re putting effort in at least. This is a genuinely nice outfit. Stork will be a walking zero-effort pun sometimes, rather than waste a perfectly fine robe.
It’s fine. This is a readily comprehensible human illogic. Exactly the kind of thing he expected from moving to Earth.
Six years in he finds out about the stork bringing babies.
Stork has a good long meditation session about this myth, his name, his job, the outfits, the whole shebang (or whatever Vulcan concept is the equivalent).
And he decides he’s honored by it, in a humanly illogical way.
The humans are asking him to do what is after all his job, and specifically requesting him for the joy his name brings them on top of an already agreeable and satisfying task. He has no objection to engendering positive emotions in others. Harm hastens the heat-death of the universe, Surak teaches, so happiness must logically slow it down.
Plus, Vulcans of his generation love puns. There were two decades of punning competitions in colleges across the planet. So when he realizes that he is a walking zero-effort pun, and that the humans also love the pun, he is all for it. He is the Joe Cool of the entire Vulcan population in his city.
And via this pun, the humans are including him in a cherished and traditional myth, by casting him as the literal bringer of life and the expander of families.
There’s no downside. Stork wears his robes, pins, keychains, and other bird-related tchotchkes with genuine pride.
YES IT’S BACK ON MY DASH AT LAST
For real though working together with some human social workers, a Vulcan would be an excellent caretaker for children in an adoption center.
Child has a meltdown? Imagine Stork, perfectly calm and unbothered, approaching the kid and saying “You appear quite upset, Eliza. If you would please allow me to relocate you to the ‘bean-bag-chair,’ we can discuss the source of your distress.”
A Vulcan educated in medicine and child psychology would be endlessly patient with a kid with behavioral issues. Stork wouldn’t get or upset or frustrated. After all, these are children with medical and psychological conditions. It would be illogical to blame the child or to not treat them with the appropriate care.
Even if the a little one was having a bad day or was just overtired, Stork wouldn’t get angry. He might even be a calming presence. Any new kids acting out would learn real quick that they’d have better luck trying to arm-wrestle a Klingon than get a rise out of Stork.
Not only that, Vulcans live much longer than humans. Imagine Stork looking virtually unchanged as decades pass. Kids he’d helped years ago would turn up fully grown, maybe there to adopt their own kids, and run into Stork, looking almost exactly as they remember him.
And he’d probably remember them too. “Welcome back, Eliza.”
“…Harm hastens the heat-death of the universe, Surak teaches, so logically happiness must slow it down…”
Will reblog every time it crosses my dash 🖖🏾
SLEEPY BABY JAYBIN 😭😭😭
I felt bad for torturing my followers so I drew a wholesome Jaybin as an apology 😔
I’m never going to actually draw a background 🙂↔️
Hope yall like 😋😋😋

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WIP excerpt for Marina behind the cut; “love is being stupid together”. (( chrono || non-chrono ))
"What is that even supposed to mean, you sanctimonious idiot?" Lex asks in exasperation. He's heard Hallmark movies sound less ridiculous and schmaltzy and generic. Typically he wouldn't watch one of those under torture, but unfortunately last week Lennox had learned about the existence of Christmas via channel-surfing his way into the middle of a Hallmark Channel "Christmas in July" 24-hour movie marathon and Lex had not known peace for the full thirteen and a half hours until the damn thing had ended. Especially he had not known peace during lunch and dinner, when Superman had spent the duration of both meals floating outside his penthouse window.
Lex still does not know peace, frankly, because now he only has until December to figure out how the hell people do holidays, of all things.
Ugh.
At least Lennox hasn't asked to invite Superman.
. . . yet.
Relatedly, the Hallmark Channel is blocked now.
Maybe he can convince Lennox that Judaism is more his speed. Hanukkah involves fire, doesn't it? Children appreciate fire, Lex assumes. He wouldn't have had to listen to so many inane "don't play with matches!" public service announcements as a child himself, if they didn't.
Red Hood enters Fatherhood
DP x DC Prompt
Jason had just arrived back into Gotham after he left the League of Assassins. He's ready to start his plans to get revenge on Bruce.
And then he hears a baby crying in an alleyway in Crime Alley. He initially went to the alleyway to bring the baby to a place that would take care of them. But as soon as he set eyes on the baby in the partially closed box in the alleyway, something in him had slightly changed.
At first, Jason kept the baby in his most secure safe house, not trusting anyone. Even his own loyal lieutenants weren't trusted enough to look after the baby boy he found in that alleyway.
Time went on, and the Red Hood gang was growing, but Red Hood himself wasn't as violent as when he first arrived. He even rethought his plan to attack Robin in Titans Tower and decided against it.
Now, Jason is on top of the GCPD building, waiting by the lit bat signal for Batman to come, as he's about to reveal not only his identity to Bruce, but that Bruce is a grandfather now.
Elsewhere, the Ghost of Time watches his reborn King live another life. His King had lost everything, and to prevent the collapse of the Timelines, his King had to be reborn, but this time, the Ghost of Time would alter the fates of others as well by placing his King near Red Hoods beginning years as a crime lord.
Not exactly the prompt, but inspired by:
Mercy had been his King's decree. A second chance for one who had suffered and caused suffering in turn. Clockwork had Seen and would see it done. And if he just so happened to pick the timeline that would benefit most from the calamity turned infant he now gently tucked a blanket around, that was simply efficiency on his part.
Jason was struggling to zip up his overstuffed duffle bag, a headless corpse cooling at his feet, when he heard it. The unmistakable wail of an unhappy child split the otherwise silent night air like a siren. Considering Jason was currently alone in a dockside warehouse at four o'clock in the morning, the sound was as out of place as a bat in the ocean.
Of all the things Tim might have imagined happening when he eventually ran into the illusive Red Hood, being handed a toddler wasn't one of them.
"Protect him with your life, Replacement!"
Jason was alive.
Jason was alive and eyeing him nervously from the other side of the bat signal.
Jason was alive and had a son of his own.
Bruce was forcibly reminded of this fact by Tim dumping the kid into his arms. Instinct kicked in even if Bruce's brain hadn't and he carefully cradled the boy, making sure to avoid the sharper parts of his armour.
"Hello," he said dumbly, at a complete loss.
"Badman," the child answered happily.
Dick came home from patrol bone-tired and ready to just collapse into bed for the next four hours. Getting out of his suit felt like it took monumental effort and Dick didn't even bother finding pajamas, just crawling under his blankets in his underwear. His head hit the pillow and he closed his eyes in bliss, ready for sweet oblivion.
His phone buzzed on the nightstand.
Dick wanted to ignore it. He really did. But absolutely no one he knew would text him at 4am unless it was literally life or death. So, with an aggrieved sigh, Dick picked up his phone and checked the message.
And blinked hard, because that didn't make any sense.
When the picture Tim had sent didn't change no matter how many times he blinked, Dick sat up and turned on a light just to double check.
Yep, that was still Tim with a smug grin holding a sleeping toddler. There was still an intense looking conversation going on in the background between Bruce and someone who looked painfully like a grownup Jason. The caption still read 'already the favorite uncle'.
What?
What the fuck?
Danny is a broke College Student, and the Ghost King getting constantly summoned. And he's getting completely stressed out, and needs a way to make money fast.
He's been hearing about all of these Gacha Gambling Games, and he gets an idea ...
^0^
The Justice League are losing their minds right now.
When JLD came up saying that a new Ghost King was crowned, they wanted to do a threat assessment despite Constantine's objections. So they did the usual summoning ... but what they were not prepared for, is how tedious it is to summon the Ghost King.
First they needed MONEY to get some kind of Ecto-Crystals which eerily look like Kryptonite - and then draw up ANOTHER Summoning Circle, because the first Circle is used to 'buy' Ecto-Crystals, and then use the Crystals to Summon the Ghost King.
Except that's not what happens.
The circle glows blue, and they are ready to do a threat assessment ... only for a bunch of junk to drop into the circle. And a single note to appear, as Batman picks it up and read - "You got junk. Roll again?"
The Young Justice instantly clock this as a GACHA GAME.
And now the Justice League have been trying to get the Ghost King for the past MONTH and they keep either getting junk, 4-Star Items and Ghosts - the most annoying one calling himself the Box Ghost - and by the time they get an actual 5-Star ...
It's not even the Ghost King.
It's one of the ANCIENTS and even they know about the Gacha Roll and are having fun with it, much to the Justice League's growing headache.
And now, it's been 3 months and even Superman can see Batman slowly losing his mind to the stupid Gacha Game.
Meanwhile, Danny?
Is making BANK.
had a dream btw btw that i was in like superhero training andddd i had the power to hear the narrator and could change the storyslightly by talking over her very. 'she brought the axe down, an overhead swing, an- "she completely misses andembeds it firmly in the concreteeee" ' kinda style which was fun but i was like. mandatory teamed up with this other girl because her deal was that she just flung like 2000metal shards at people telekineticly and it jsuts had a 100%mortality rate if i wasnt hanging around going "AND THEY GRAZE THE TARGET CAUSING ONLY SMALL CUTS ANDWOUDNDS QND DOESNT KILL THEM" last second everytime
What is the longest book series you have read?
I only read stand alones
Duology
Trilogy
Quartet
5-10
10-15
More than 15 books in the series
For the purpose of this poll, books in the same world but not Directly sequels count. If they're grouped on Goodreads, it counts. So like, Percy Jackson but also Magnus Chase count as the same series.

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me when I fucking BAP you
reblog to B A P your mutuals
Happy Birthday photocard! 🥳💖