#might edit

all/any // 26 // mooooo // side blog

things you'll find: focus on comfort, team whump, aftermath/recovery, animal comparisons, very defiant whumpees, a little bit of fantasy, nsfwhump, FEAR and PITY and FLINCHING and-

things you won't find: focus on whumper (like rly any of it at all), carewhumpers, very submissive whumpees, dialogue prompts, original stories, ocs, art/gifs

note that I might post/rb nsfwhump and triggering content.

more info below:

1) the joker — killed her parents in front of her. attempted to kill her but only affected her right eye.

that’s why it’s orange. injury + seeing a gruesome scene in front of her gave her abilities. so joker is the reason of her powers.

at first he doesn’t care about her. but got annoyed after he kept messing up his plans so he constantly tried to harm her. || the joker realised he cannot harm her, he attacks her friends; cori and ani. in the end ani dies || and morgan close enough to kill him. || months later she kills him as delphi and after that morgan would hallucinate him everytime she does something bad ||

2) alexis kaye / punchline — they are the same in everything; wants joker/harley to take them in, does ballet, parents dead, sadistic tendencies, good with knives. same coin but different sides? punchline tries to kill her for the joker. morgan tries to kill her because she’s just a nuisance. always fighting it’s like they’re flirting /hj

3) cassandra cain / batgirl — if alexis is similar to morgan, cass is the complete opposite of morgan, they contrast each other. from complex morals to character. chaos vs discipline. emotion vs. control. loud vs. quiet. (they do ballet but that’s similar but i just wanna add). cass as batgirl is all black meanwhile morgan is colourful. morgan relies on chat and her luck while cass is extremely skilled— morgan is unpredictable and cass relies on reading body language.

4) fish mooney — morgan’s groomer. || morgan kills fish after fish was forming a temporary alliance with the joker ||.

fish is the one who enhanced her abilities so she could use morgan’s precognition abilities / chat as she tries to become the next gotham kingpin. fish is the one who told her to change alias from quinni (it’s not like quinni is morgan’s choice tbh) to carnival. morgan got the alias delphi from fish.

An eye for the macabre lead you through the mist and into The Black Library. Here, the occult reigns in ancient scrolls and tomes, their pages filled with heathen rituals, blood magic, and necromancy. You wandered through cold halls with arms spread wide and fingertips caressing rows and rows of leather-bound backs, titles and symbols feeding your fascination; breathing life into a darkness beyond your imagination. Without hesitation, you picked the single most darkest book that caught your fancy.

A small book, inconspicuous, yet therein you saw the premise of it safeguarding far greater secrets than any of the richly decorated variants. It was a diary, which — strange, how looks can deceive — proved merely painted black to match the scenery. A fresh coat, not so long ago. The tar would still stain your fingers as you examined its cover, burned heavily. However despite tar and fire you could still make out its original colour along the edges of deep claw-like cuts. A puny flake, or two, lingered inside the scratches and showed an almost glowing celestial blue.

Your heart raced. Curiosity. Amazement. What was such a book doing here, hidden inside The Black Library? Why had it been maltreated, and in such a savage manner that it was left unrecognisable? You tried opening it up, but it remained shut, until you half-subconsciously whispered: please.

Then it showed you its pages, surprisingly pristine, not even the tar on your fingers could stain them as you leafed through the words that made your heart sink. Airily prose and sweetly love poems let their light shine over a plane built on pillars of hope, wishes, and dreams. There were trees, and flowers, and meadows, and skies with lamb-like clouds drifting in the wind. You saw them, but you didn't want to. The book wouldn't let you close it, so you closed your eyes instead. Yet it kept turning page after page. Celestial blue, increasingly brighter, shone a star inside the cold halls, and all of the book cases' ornamental skulls rang your ears by their high pitch eldritch screeches.

Inside you, the initial curiosity sparked in your heart made place for rage. You spent a lifetime seeking, and found only this... this mellifluous silliness. Seething fingernails pressed into the cover, scratching; screeching along with the ornamental skulls. Their screeches, now, deafened. The library's walls started crumbling around you. This book, this diary, you suddenly knew, was written to lay The Black Library to waste.

You raced toward the fire pit, dead center. And immediately the thickest black smoke spew forth from the diary as you dropped it into the flames. Blind. Tears in your eyes. Voiceless. Embers in your throat. Slowly, you suffocated. Then, bodiless. Burned. You saw yourself, with an eye for the macabre, walking through the mist of your own disintegrated stardust.

In that last second of consciousness, you gulp and gulp the stifled hollers begging yourself to stop. It's blocked. It's blocked. It bursts.

You scream so loud you wake yourself up. You wake. Dead center in a meadow. The sky, for a while, seems tar black. Then, all the stars spread out from one single dot. A puny flake of celestial blue. Young again, you understand nothing. Save for this moment wherein you feel at peace in the dark. You pick up your diary of dreams, and start writing a poem. It starts with the words:

One more.