In All Timelines, In All Possibilities…

The amount of time that the Ancient Egyptian civilisation lasted is just so mind boggling. It lasted over 3000 years. That's such an insane amount of time. It ended around 30BC meaning that it will only be extinct for as long as it existed in around 950 years. Cleopatra lived closer to the invention of bitcoin than the building of the pyramids of Giza. They were already ancient to her. What the fuck

Jason Todd, Son of Sally Jackson

Jason Todd is Sally Jackson’s Biological Child.

Jason has already become Red Hood but hasn’t revealed his identity to Bruce and the Batfam yet. Sally hasn’t married Gabriel Ugliano yet. Percy is 6 years old.

After reuniting, Sally & Jason bond over their violent sense of justice/self-defense and Sally learns combat from Jason to protect both her sons with deadly force.

After learning Jason’s identity as Red Hood and his reasoning behind becoming a Drug Lord, she becomes Jason’s business partner that co-leads his gang under the codename ‘Queen’.

Queen & Red Hood become extremely well-known protectors of children and abused single parents, opening many parent & children shelters funded by their gang.

Percy is the mob’s baby brother, ‘Guppy,’ because of growing up the son and brother of Gotham’s most successful crime lords. They always made sure he hid his identity with a hoodie and gas mask to disguise his voice with the bonus of protecting him from Scarecrow & Poison Ivy’s attacks.

After receiving Medusa’s head from Percy, Sally makes a new “statue” every month or so. She contacts abused single parents, kills them with the parent’s consent, and gives 3/4 of the money she makes to the parent. This “charity sculpting” is allegedly as a favor to her fellow “grieving” single parents. Weirdly enough, she still ends up killing Gabriel Ugliano, despite never marrying him.

Inspired by miagirl3’s “Avoiding the Secrets” on Ao3

Helluva ships - featuring Radioapple

Mammon does in fact tattle to Lucifer about Asmodeus and Fizz's relationship. Let's say the Helluva timeline lines up with Lucifer and Alastor getting closer sometime after season 1.

Lucifer doesn't know why Mammon bothered, even if Lucifer didn't have whatever was going on between him and Al -- he still wouldn't give a fuck. And he'd give even less of a fuck considering Mammon was still committing copyright infringement for his park, the audacity of that man was astronomical.

Still, Mammon calls a meeting to spill the tea because even he knows Lucifer is a hermit who does not keep up with the drama of Hell's so-called elite.

Asmosdeus finds out and therefore Blitzø finds out. So they all crash the meeting to give Mammon what-for. Fizz and Blitzø because they've never met Lucifer and think he's going to be pissed. Moxxie and Millie because Blitzø lied about where they were going and refused to let them leave. Stolas for moral support (and he's also never met the King, sue him, he's excited despite the circumstance) and Ozzie because he couldn't stop them so he might as well join them.

Following multiple very unnecessary pit-stops and shenanigans, they finally arrive at the palace---and it's too late.

Alastor has already kicked Mammon out and now he and Lucifer are doing paperwork, gossiping, and fighting over the (according to Alastor) tacky interior design of the palace.

The Helluva gang bust in (Blitzø is on a horse for some reason, he's very happy about this) and it's very anti-climatic.

Asmodeus: so you...don't care that I'm in love with an imp?

Lucifer, dad mode: You're in love? I'm so proud of you!

Blitzø: Just to be clear, I'm fucking this bird, there's nothing you can do about it

Lucifer: Okay??

Alastor: Darling, they think you care about hell's hierarchy

Lucifer: Oh! Yeah, uh-no. That'd be pretty hypocritical of me considering [gestures to Alastor]

The Helluva crew leave the palace once Lucifer and Alastor start bickering again looking like they've escaped a hurricane, wondering if they should be sending the King of Hell a 'Congratz on the Divorce' card.

Moxxie: ...does this mean we have two Kings now?

A really funny idea would be that practically all main Alastor ships are canon, but Alastor HIMSELF is the only one who doesn't know he's in a polycule. (RadioRose, RadioHusk, RadioDust, RadioApple)

(They don't tell him because he doesn't handle being confronted with caring about others very well, and the last time it was implied, he ghosted and didn't talk to Husk for almost a decade. Alastor is very dedicated to being the untouchable Radio Demon, and if you try to make him come to terms with the idea of being Perceived, he freaks out.)

And so, when Angel and Husk notice Lucifer and Alastor starting to circle each other, they grab Lucifer to tell him the Rules of the Polycule.

H: "Hey, we noticed you giving Al eyes, we wanted to let you know how to go about this since he's dating us too."

L: "Oh shit! I'm sorry I didn't mean to-"

H: "Nah, you're welcome in. We just gotta give you the ground rules because the last time I didn't, it didn't end well for anyone."

L: "What."

A: "Smiles isn't big on being seen as soft, so you just gotta avoid letting him know he IS, is all."

H: "Here's our current schedule, let us know the best times for you and we'll adjust it fairly."

L: "You....you have a SCHEDULE???"

And they hand him a sheet that's basically like:

No telling Alastor about the polycule!

No telling Alastor anything that implies he is soft or cares about you or anyone in the polycule! (He WILL disappear for another 7 years, and everyone else in the polycule will be mad at you)

No trying to force Alastor into doing anything with you (Obviously!)

Ask before joining someone else's Alastor Time(tm) (One on one time isn't always required, but it's just rude to hijack it for no reason)

Try to stick to the schedule the best you can (adjustments are allowed with prior notice, other conflicts, or Alastor himself asking you to do something outside your time)

Dating others (in and outside the polycule) is fine, just be respectful

Respect everyone else in the polycule!

VOX IS NOT ALLOWED IN THE POLYCULE

DO NOT LET VOX SEE THE SCHEDULE

L: "What's...what's with numbers 8 and 9? The TV guy???"

H: "Ugh, he's the reason FOR these rules! I tried to let him join me and Rosie a few years back, and instead he tried to make Alastor his own, permanently. Not only did he tell Alastor that they were dating, and tried to force him to join the Vees, he tried to kick me and Rosie out of the picture! Dealing with that mess was a NIGHTMARE. It took Rosie months to get him to talk to her again, and he practically ignored me before he completely disappeared. We JUST got everything back to normal after that mess."

L: "Uh, okay. Got it, no Vox."

And then, without Alastor ever noticing, he just gets another member of his polycule.

“Uh, Professor, er, sir,” Harry stumbled over the seldom-used honorifics in his bafflement. “Uh, on your mouth…?”

“Lipstick, Potter,” Snape sneered, the expression all the more pronounced with the cosmetic assistance.

“Oh, uh, it’s, um, it’s black?” Harry hadn’t known lipstick came in anything other than his aunt’s subdued pinks or the vivid shades of red that Petunia considered sinful and salacious (and intolerably reminiscent of Lily to ever be permitted back into the precariously normal life of Number Four, Privet Drive).

“Very good, Potter,” Snape said sarcastically. “Twelve years old and you’ve learned your colors.”

That was pure nastiness and entirely unfair.

“I’m fifteen!”  Harry protested, which earned him a merely sardonic eyebrow. “Almost fifteen,” he amended.  “I’ll be fifteen on Monday.”

Harry longed to surpass Snape in sheer churlishness and considered pointing out that muggle men generally didn’t wear skirts.  Certainly not in Little Whinging.  Definitely not when Dudley and his gang were roaming the streets.

He’d seen plenty of oblivious wizards sporting spiffy new dresses as their muggle disguises at the Quidditch World Cup the previous summer (a lifetime ago, before Cedric was murdered and he hadn’t been able to stop it from happening).  But there was something peculiarly well-tailored and suspiciously well-worn about the Potions Master’s garb that suggested less “disguise” and more “daily wear”. He found that his brain was oddly unwilling to acknowledge the existence of Snape’s psychedelic cardigan. His mind kept trying desperately to wallpaper something sensible over the bizarre image his eyes insisted on perceiving.

“…nice skirt,” he mumbled.

“Thanks,” Snape drawled the false gratitude out with a smirk. “It has pockets.  Dipshit and Dumbass there were too excited to get on the road this morning and didn’t give me any time to do laundry.”

“Am I ‘Dipshit’ or am I ‘Dumbass’?” Sirius whispered loudly, grin gone well past manic.

“I believe Severus called me a ‘dipshit’ among other things for forgetting to take my Wolfsbane last year,” Remus replied thoughtfully, “So, Sirius, that probably makes you the dumbass.”

“I’m more of a hot piece of ass, but okay,” Sirius said with a wink. “Hi, Harry!”

“Hi, Sirius,” Harry said weakly, glad for the excuse to sidle past Snape.  “Uh, what are you doing here?” The Daily Prophet hadn’t said anything about Sirius being pardoned and news like that, while less of an urgent headline than Voldemort’s return, wouldn’t lurk about in the society pages or behind an advice column.

“Dumbledore told me to lie low at Lupin’s place,” Sirius beamed with an innocence so intense it could only be artificial.

“And, er, well, what with one thing and another, it really hadn’t seemed like a good time really to mention that I’d been, ah, evicted,” Lupin added, “…again.”

“Renting really seems like such a bother,” Sirius opined. “So I bought a house for Remus here.”

“Oh,” said Harry, who had witnessed Aunt Petunia compulsively twitching the curtains as she tried to discover how Mrs. Number Seven had eluded neighborly surveillance and, somehow, managed to sell her house to a person or persons unknown to the remaining residents of Privet Drive. “Isn’t that supposed to take a long time?”

“Building a home takes a lifetime,” Sirius said sagely. “Buying a house just takes money.”

Snape’s scornful snort brought Harry’s attention back to the least welcome visitor to Little Whinging.

“So, uh, why did you bring,” Harry gestured vaguely, unsure if the word ‘him’ could accurately encompass the snidest professor present, “Snape?” He’d rather noticed that Snape hadn’t lifted a finger to help Sirius and Lupin move any of the large boxes from the lorry into Number Seven.

“Severus knows how to drive,” Lupin explained gently. Sirius’ mouth opened, prepared to protest.

“Severus,” Lupin repeated, louder this time, “Has a valid muggle license to drive.” Sirius’ subsided.

“And I know how to hot-wire cars and lorries,” Severus added smoothly. “And,” Lupin echoed wearily, “ Severus knows how to ‘hot-wire’ muggle vehicles.”

“I’m learning to do that,” Sirius said helpfully, “I’m going to figure it out too.  I’ve nearly got it.”

“Talk is cheap, Black,” Snape scoffed starting to stroll in the last direction Harry wanted him to go, “I’ll believe you when I see some tangible results.”

“Wait!  Stop!” Harry wondered if he’d get in trouble for tackling a professor outside of Hogwarts.  It would be worth it, to try to alter Snape’s trajectory towards the front door of Number Four.  “Stop, stop, stop!”

For all Harry’s desperate scrambling, Snape maintained his lead.

“Please stop!” Harry begged as the professor hitched up his skirt slightly, “Use the bell!  You don’t have to kick the door in!” Aunt Petunia was probably at the door, surely she’d spied them across the street at Number Seven.

Snape kicked the door, already unlatched in Petunia’s nosy anticipation, open.

Aunt Petunia let out a shrill little scream.

“Hello, Piss-Tuna,” said Severus Snape, far more gleeful than he’d been even when Harry and Ron were facing the threat of expulsion after flying a car into the Whomping Willow. “You look as awful as ever.”

Piss-Tuna, Harry thought as his world tilted on its axis, Snape, Professor Snape, just called my aunt Piss-Tuna.  This can’t be happening.

“You—!” Her face was white, her eyes were wide, and Petunia Dursley, née Evans, practically growled in her outrage.

Harry found himself thinking that Brazil might be a very nice place to live. It was far away from Privet Drive, for a start.  He wondered what it would take to get there.

“Aren’t you going to invite me in, Tuney?” Snape’s foot had blocked the door from closing.  “I’m more than happy to have this confrontation on your front step if you’d prefer.”

“We, ah, brought some biscuits,” Lupin added. “Store bought. Assorted.  With chocolate.  Er, I’m, ah, we’re the new neighbors. So nice to meet you again.”

Petunia goggled at the lot of them.

She also stumbled back, which Snape seemed to take as an unspoken invitation.  Harry found himself dragged along in the professor’s wake, with only Sirius’ hand on his shoulder to steady him in the swift tide of strangeness.

“I can’t believe your taste in interior decoration deteriorated into this level of disgusting kitsch and doilies, Tuna,” said the man who decorated with floating dead things in jars. Severus surveyed the photos on the wall, on the mantle, on the little side table.  So many perfectly posed pictures of a happy family of three- mother, father, son- and a lock on the cupboard under the stairs. Narcissa had been absolutely right.

“Is that my jumper?” Harry jumped.  Petunia’s voice was high and thin and quite peculiar.

“You’ve really done a terrible job of raising Potter,” said Snape, and Harry bristled. Of course Snape wanted to criticize him, Harry had been expecting the criticism, but he loathed the thought of his two biggest critics were now sharing notes and combining forces.

“Not only is he, like the majority of students, a careless menace in the laboratory, but I have also wasted entirely too much of my already limited time deciphering his atrocious penmanship to correct insipid essay after insipid essay only to see the same flawed reasonings repeated week after week.” It was news to Harry that he was supposed to read the sea of spidery red notes Snape deposited on every essay.  It seemed rather unfair, given that Snape could fit five lines of text for every one line Harry wrote. The single “P”, or the occasional and welcome “A”, was more than sufficient in Harry’s view.

“That’s my jumper.” There was a touch of hysteria in Petunia’s tone now.

“He will be taking his O.W.L.s this year, his O-levels if you prefer,” Snape continued, demonstrating more confidence in Harry’s continued survival than Harry typically expected to hear from the Potions Master. “Unfortunately, his current record of scholastic mediocrity, his stubborn refusal to revise, and a peculiar incuriosity about magical theory does not bode well for his continued academic career.”

“You little bastard! That’s my goddamn jumper!” Petunia’s shriek derailed Snape’s momentum.  The unexpected profanity from his aunt made Harry’s brain stutter to a halt.

“Tuna,” Snape frowned, “We’re not here to discuss my sartorial decisions and I will never take wardrobe critique from you.  I only deigned to enter this suburban hellscape to discuss your horrendous failure to raise and parent Mr. Potter.”

“Biscuit, Harry?” Sirius offered, retrieving the tin from Remus.

“You stole my jumper!” Shockingly, Petunia’s epiphany failed to shatter glass.  Yet.

“Didn’t,” sniffed Snape.

“I thought it was Lily who stole my jumper!”

“She did. I just hid it for her.” 

“I bought that jumper myself!  I’d saved up!”

“Yes, I know.”

“It was for an interview!”

“We wanted to spare you the humiliation of being seen in public wearing such a hideous thing.  You even got that position, even if you didn’t keep it for very long.”

The biscuit was rather good, even without tea, and it was beginning to dawn on Harry that Snape and Aunt Petunia were more inclined to tear into one another than join forces against him. He felt oddly inclined to cheer for Professor Snape, despite the ranting about Harry’s scholastic shortcomings. Perhaps it was because Harry knew so little about his mother that every glimpse was a pearl he treasured.

“I want my jumper!” Did she learn that tone from her little Diddykins or had Dudley inherited that petulant demanding pitch from Petunia?

“And I want you to understand how your failure to nourish any academic inclinations Mr. Potter may have shown before the age of eleven may have rather dire consequences for futures beyond his own, but I fear we can’t all get what we want.” Remus handed Harry another biscuit before he could think to protest.

“Give me back my jumper!”

“Fine!” Snape finally snapped, fingers tearing at the buttons in wrathful haste.  “Fine, here!”

Petunia caught the cardigan with her face and a squeak.

Severus Snape looked like a stranger again, in the ratty, oversized band shirt, hair disheveled from the jumper’s passage.  Harry hadn’t seen the Dark Mark his professor had shoved under Minister Fudge’s nose in the Hospital Wing those few weeks ago, and he found himself oddly glad that the mark was concealed under a peculiar leather bracelet with metal studding.  A wand holster, perhaps.

“Are you prepared to face your shortcomings now, Tuney?” That dangerously silky tone was entirely familiar, and Harry took another biscuit before he was told to go serve detention during summer vacation.

“It smells like Cokeworth,” Petunia’s complaint was bitter, for she dreaded the day her neighbors discovered the lingering taint of the Cokeworth streets sullying their Surrey security.

“Hey,” said Sirius, who had gone oddly still.

“I wasn’t going to take it to Hogwarts, was I?” Snape said.  “It’s acrylic, you know that sort of stuff doesn’t hold up around magic.”

“Hey,” said Sirius.  “Hey.” His face was a rictus of delight, as pleased as Petunia had been put out. “Snape. Isn’t that, isn’t that my shirt you’ve got on?”

“Oh, oh,” snarled Severus.  “Not you too!”

Imagine dannys rouges fighting him thinking he is like one of the older ghosts because they can't detect his ghost core at all and thats a old ghost thing

But it's because dannys core isn't fully funded until one day he gets caught by his parents and they go vivisection on him

He flees and one of the rogues find him and are like "oh god he's just a baby, a hurt baby, oh my god I have been throwing down with a baby.... I have beaten by a baby"

And they all fly around him anxiously and teaching him stuff because suddenly he's so weak! What happened!

Then the parents get him again but worse and he flees the universe

It only takes them around two weeks to find them and he is in the middle of being held up by the joker as hostage when "BOOM" the joker gets body slammed by the skulker

Now we got skrunkly Danny with his league of caretakers against the world

Angelic Alastor AU

The throuple's types:

Lilith: Gentlemen who drinks respect women juice, and can make her laugh, lil silly and goofy at times, who values her choices and decisions as an equal regardless of her standing as a mortal or a woman ahem Adam

Lucifer: Tall lmao headstrong individuals with elegance and a sharp wit and maybe has a sadistic streak lmao

Alastor: Powerful, defiant dreamers who sees beauty and potential in the most unlikely places, brimming with hope and wonder

A general cane guide for writers and artists (from a cane user, writer, and artist!)

Disclaimer: Though I have been using a cane for 6 years, I am not a doctor, nor am I by any means an expert. This guide is true to my experience, but there are as many ways to use a cane as there are cane users!

This guide will not include: White canes for blindness, crutches, walkers, or wheelchairs as I have no personal experience with these.

This is meant to be a general guide to get you started and avoid some common mishaps/misconceptions, but you absolutely should continue to do your own research outside of this guide!

The biggest recurring problem I've seen is using the cane on the wrong side. The cane goes on the opposite side of the pain! If your character has even-sided pain or needs it for balance/weakness, then use the cane in the non-dominant hand to keep the dominant hand free. Some cane users also switch sides to give their arm a rest!

A cane takes about 20% of your weight off the opposite leg. It should fit within your natural gait and become something of an extension of your body. If you need more weight off than 20%, then crutches, a walker, or a wheelchair is needed.

Putting more pressure on the cane, using it on the wrong side, or having it at the wrong height will make it less effective, and can cause long term damage to your body from improper pressure and posture. (Hugh Laurie genuinely hurt his body from years of using a cane wrong on House!)

(an animated GIF of a cane matching the natural walking gait. It turns red when pressure is placed on it.)

When going up and down stairs, there is an ideal standard: You want to use the handrail and the cane at the same time, or prioritize the handrail if it's only on one side. When going up stairs you lead with your good leg and follow with the cane and hurt leg together. When going down stairs you lead with the cane, then the good leg, and THEN the leg that needs help.

Realistically though, many people don't move out of the way for cane users to access the railing, many stairs don't have railings, and many are wet, rusty, or generally not ideal to grip.

In these cases, if you have a friend nearby, holding on to them is a good idea. Or, take it one step at a time carefully if you're alone.

Now we come to a very common mistake I see... Using fashion canes for medical use!

(These are 4 broad shapes, but there is INCREDIBLE variation in cane handles. Research heavily what will be best for your character's specific needs!)

The handle is the contact point for all the weight you're putting on your cane, and that pressure is being put onto your hand, wrist, and shoulder. So the shape is very important for long term use!

Knob handles (and very decorative handles) are not used for medical use for this reason. It adds extra stress to the body and can damage your hand to put constant pressure onto these painful shapes.

The weight of a cane is also incredibly important, as a heavier cane will cause wear on your body much faster. When you're using it all day, it gets heavy fast! If your character struggles with weakness, then they won't want a heavy cane if they can help it!

This is also part of why sword canes aren't usually very viable for medical use (along with them usually being knob handles) is that swords are extra weight!

However, a small knife or perhaps a retractable blade hidden within the base might be viable even for weak characters.

Bases have a lot of variability as well, and the modern standard is generally adjustable bases. Adjustable canes are very handy if your character regularly changes shoe height, for instance (gotta keep the height at your hip!)

Canes help on most terrain with their standard base and structure. But for some terrain, you might want a different base, or to forego the cane entirely! This article covers it pretty well.

Many cane users decorate their canes! Stickers are incredibly common, and painting canes is relatively common as well! You'll also see people replacing the standard wrist strap with a personalized one, or even adding a small charm to the ring the strap connects to. (nothing too large, or it gets annoying as the cane is swinging around everywhere)

(my canes, for reference)

If your character uses a cane full time, then they might also have multiple canes that look different aesthetically to match their outfits!

When it comes to practical things outside of the cane, you reasonably only have one hand available while it's being used. Many people will hook their cane onto their arm or let it dangle on the strap (if they have one) while using their cane arm, but it's often significantly less convenient than 2 hands. But, if you need 2 hands, then it's either setting the cane down or letting it hang!

For this reason, optimizing one handed use is ideal! Keeping bags/items on the side of your free hand helps keep your items accessible.

When sitting, the cane either leans against a wall or table, goes under the chair, or hooks onto the back of the chair. (It often falls when hanging off of a chair, in my experience)

When getting up, the user will either use their cane to help them balance/support as they stand, or get up and then grab their cane. This depends on what it's being used for (balance vs pain when walking, for instance!)

That's everything I can think of for now. Thank you for reading my long-but-absolutely-not-comprehensive list of things to keep in mind when writing or drawing a cane user!

Happy disability pride month! Go forth and make more characters use canes!!!

I have wondered why no one has written a fanfiction with Tom Riddle having split personality disorder yet ? Just imagine. On one hand, he's just a ordinary boy attempting to live a regular life, while on the other hand, he's Voldemort - a power-hungry sociopath determined to conquer the wizarding world.

Angelic Alastor AU

The throuple's types:

Lilith: Gentlemen who drinks respect women juice, and can make her laugh, lil silly and goofy at times, who values her choices and decisions as an equal regardless of her standing as a mortal or a woman ahem Adam

Lucifer: Tall lmao headstrong individuals with elegance and a sharp wit and maybe has a sadistic streak lmao

Alastor: Powerful, defiant dreamers who sees beauty and potential in the most unlikely places, brimming with hope and wonder