#Evil little family

[hypnoticmoth]

okay 1: sorry for asking something again today :P

2: i assume you like Valentino because of his design and/or voice like most Valentino lovers, (me included), but his personality is quite interesting and it kinda makes me like his more, if that makes sense? Not like the abusing and being a terrible person, but the fact he does it is unique and i dont know many characters with those traits! So I like the *idea* of being abusing and shit, but him actually doing it, I dont, does that make sense? Anyway the actual question is: do you like Valentino bc of his design and such, or also the *concept* of his personality?

It's ok !!

About why i like Valentino, it's a combination of everything. Yes, he does have an amazing design, and his VA does a stunning job at voicing him.

But i also like the way he's written. He's an unredeemable villain who does absolutely horrible things (and he'll get what is coming for him). He's threatening and detestable and i just enjoy it.

He's also quite clever and manipulative and i think a lot of fans don't give credit to his intelligence.

He's also pretty goofy in the way he acts, acting like a giant throwing tantrum manchild, bedazzling his gun in the middle of a meeting with the other two Vees, ect. And despite that, it doesn't remove any of the threatening aura he has, and i just think it's pretty neat to have a truly irredeemable villain that doesn't lose that threat and edge about them while also having some fun and goofy moments.

All in all, i love the Vees, I think they're good villains, i'm excited for season 2. They're all as awful as each others and they'll be a fun trio of antagonists.

[108garys]

the evil little family

@kassiekolchek22 @delurkr @maria-rayro @lonnitamongus @ultrabananapudding @ivycross @eddie-brii @ctrvpani @blubary @devilinlittlehope @qusok @tatjana-fantasy @mybrainrotforreal (did my best with tagging given I need sleep)

Finally drew the whole evil little family together to see how they look together and if my various concepts work together and are balanced with Du'met's design(sort of winged it on josh tho)

I was thinking "Oh I'm too tired to colour it fully so I'll just add some in the back to make it pop" and well Hector being so tall made it a pain 😅

Close ups undercut

it feels good to make enough progress to actually draw this evening rough like this

[stillafanofsonic]

I really love Agent Stone and Robotnik as evil gay dads with their son, Metal Sonic

[starry-bi-sky]

i think i'm hilarious -- aka i made blood blossom danny au memes

all of these come from my DpxDC prompt "i am pushing the batdad agenda--" and it's corresponding additions in the reblogs ksdjlf.

i am. rotating them in my head. forever and always. personally i think there should be more batdad aus in dpxdc, their dynamic could be neat. :)

[chloesimaginationthings]

You're version of Elizabeth is really sassy lol

At the end of the day, she’s still Michael’s little sister

[couch-house]

playing with stc + exit shadow and rouge some more. i hit shadow with the girl beam last month and forgot to tell you. oops!

[n4rval]

your gaster looks very friendly. i would pat him on the head but im too short

i know what you want anon dnw i got u

[twilidragonrin-art]

"Looks like the art isn't the only thing that caught Mother's attention."

[illmoraineakoi]

AU where Victim discovers his Creator’s location long before AvA season 3/without Chosen getting captured, and Victim has his corporation make a machine to try to bring his Creator to the facility.

But something goes wrong; the machine is untested, it has defaults because it was rushed (due to Victim getting impatient), and it malfunctions, badly. Instead of bringing the Creator to him, it sucks Victim in and sends him hurtling to the Creator’s location.

Or, Victim thinks it would have, if the machine didn’t keep malfunctioning. The receiving end of the connection keeps snapping between different places: websites, other IP addresses, different random devices and online accounts.

So when Victim is spat out onto a desktop, he doesn’t think he’s arrived at the right place. He has no way to double-check where he is, or determine he’s in the right place.

Because Victim never really saw his Creator through the screen, all those years ago. Looking through the screen to the world of the Creators had been difficult back then, because something something old 2006 monitors sucked. His view of the outside world through the screen had been blurry/foggy, so he never saw his Creator’s visage clearly enough to memorize identifiable features. He had just been a vague looming shadow of shifting form and color.

Nor does he even know his Creator’s name. Victim never got to see a chat window or login usernames or even the computer user account name, because he never made it out of Flash. And his Creator never spoke, only snickered and laughed.

So when he suddenly finds himself on a desktop, very much not according to any of his plans and something he’s completely unprepared for, faced with five other younger sticks, a cursor, and a shockingly clear view of the being who controlled that computer…

Victim doesn’t recognize Alan.

And Alan doesn’t recognize him.

Needless to say, being on a computer again is a not a very pleasant feeling for Victim, and his first reaction, his first instinct, is to try to flee. To get off the computer, to return to the Outernet, to the safety of his facility. Being on a computer wasn’t safe, the Creator controlling the cursor could delete him at any moment, end his process, erase him, or even enslave him. He was powerless here, not in control, his cunning and resourcefulness would only aid him for so long, only delay his potential death. He had no hope of overpowering the cursor, not here. He needed to leave.

But there is no way for him to leave, because the malfunctioning machine was a one way trip and he doesn’t actually know how to get off the computer. He doesn’t know about the Wi-Fi escape route, and even if he did, he doesn’t have powers to make a portal.

So Victim is stuck on the desktop, fairly certain he’s in the wrong place, with no idea how to get back to the Outernet. Under the constant attention of the looming Creator on the other side of the screen, who can keep pace with his movements and escape attempts with frightening ease. To say nothing of the other five who manage to efficiently outmaneuver him and nearly bring him to the ground several times, clearly assisting the cursor and its operator in trying to capture him.

Victim doesn’t have time to dwell on that. He can only run and run and run and try to find a place to hide, if only the other five weren’t so fast, if only he could escape the cursor’s focus for just a moment—

He’s cornered. The other five backed him into a corner and surrounded him. He has nothing to fight with, he’s overpowered and outnumbered. He curls up, and braces for deletion.

But things don’t go as Victim expects/fears they will…

Because he isn’t attacked. He’s not captured. He’s not deleted or ended or erased.

He’s only confronted, approached, like a frightened wounded animal by one of the other sticks, their movements slow and careful and deliberate. Assuring him that he was okay, they weren’t going to hurt him, he was safe. They ask him if he’s alright. They try to calm him down.

They ask him for his name, innocently giving him their own.

He doesn’t give them his name. He gives them the name Charcoal. They can call him Charcoal. They accept this, without question.

Their naivety is a shock to Victim. He’s dumbfounded by it.

He is a stranger who just appeared on this desktop, and they’re treating him like a friend. With so much genuine and childlike kindness that Victim doesn’t know how to process it. They trust him, almost instantaneously; for no reason. He doesn’t understand. He doesn’t comprehend.

How could anyone be so trusting so quickly? Did they not know the danger of it? Did they not know how awful and unfair the world was? Did they not know how easily they could be taken advantage of, manipulated, ensnared in a web of control they had no way of escaping from? Did they not know they had to protect themselves, guard every bit of themselves, else the rest of the world would use their weaknesses against them?

How did they not see him as a threat?

Or did they not fear him because he didn’t have any powers, so they thought he was weak?

The cursor was worse. It doesn’t attack him. It doesn’t hit him. It speaks to him too. Asking him questions, like where he came from and how he got there, and offering answers and information in return to Victim’s own demands. Victim had not even realized it was possible to communicate with a Creator. Yelling and screaming had done nothing with his own.

It did not seem malicious…

He doesn’t know what to think about that.

He didn’t know what to think about the entire situation he’s found himself in. He is entirely out of his depth.

Here he was, stuck indefinitely with a seemingly benevolent Creator and five rainbow stick kids who are way too happy and upbeat for sticks who live on a computer. Five sticks who eventually start to insist on including him in their activities and adventures; teaching him how to play their games and sharing their hobbies with him. Who carve out a space on the desktop for him, adding a room onto their strange house for him.

It’s bizarre.

The Creator, too, treats him well. Lets him stay and explore the computer as much as he wants until a way to leave was discovered, so long as care was taken to prevent damage to files and data. But it also interacts with Victim, too. Includes him in the little games it plays with the others. Invites him to join it and Orange during their drawing sessions. It – he – was undeniably friendly towards him.

Victim, who had long become bitter and hateful towards the Creators ‘humans’ not just because of his own torment but also because of the horrible mistreatment he’d witnessed the aftermath of upon the refugees arriving to the city, is now faced with the uncomfortable dilemma that not all Creators ‘humans’ are vile evil beings, which challenges a fundamental part of his world view. He is forced to realize that this Creator human, this animator, Alan, was genuinely kind and loving towards the other sticks, and to Victim himself as well. That the color gang genuinely loved Alan, and were well taken care of. Victim never once sees Alan hurt them.

It’s something that Victim had never even conceived of being possible, before. Creators, human, hurt sticks. That's just how it was. Except now it wasn't...

And it’s this that finally confirms to Victim that he was definitely on the wrong computer.

Alan was not his Creator. He couldn’t be; the dissonance was too large.

And as the weeks turn into months of him still not able to figure out how to get back to the Outernet, Victim, too, begins to slowly start trusting and liking Alan. Opening up more, relaxing more. Learning things about himself that his tireless quest for power and then vengeance hadn’t allowed him the time nor opportunity to discover. Becoming genuinely fond of the Color Gang, sharp irritation and antisocialness mellowing into a soft, if exasperated, attachment. Especially Orange, who he feels the most kinship with due to a copious amount of shared interests.

(It was hard not to get attached, the kid’s cheerfulness was borderline infectious.)

Victim had never had real friends before. The closest he ever had were the copies of himself, and they were never really separate identities from him, despite the Box’s best attempts.

He started to feel like he belonged, here. Like Alan and the gang had become a sort of family he never had before. It was enjoyable. It’s nice.

…Right up until Victim finds AvA1 on Alan’s YouTube channel.

[samberrybay]

I DON'T SEE ENOUGH PEOPLE TALK ABOUT THIS NEW MASTERPIECE BY PAN4-NIM????

Like HELLO????? THIS IS SO OUT OF POCKET BUT I'M ABSOLUTELY NOT COMPLAINING!!!!

[aaron-romave]

Dc prompt

 You know that one party game that you play when you are really close to everyone, where everyone writes a bunch of facts about themselves or others on paper and then someone pulls one out and read it and it’s something along the lines of “who here has gotten the most speeding tickets” or “who had a pet tarantula named pebbles” and then on the count of three everyone points to who they think that fact belongs to. Now imagine the batfam playing that with the Justice league. The bats know absolutely everything about everyone and they can use this to pull out insane facts. Also imagine. (Ps I’m making up all of the facts)

The justice league party has been going on for a while and they’ve been playing this game with mostly lighthearted questions. Who’s had a pet lizard named A Lizard? Who ate an entire can of cat food on a dare? Who has broken the most doorhandles? 

And then this card is pulled, who’s attempted the most murder?

The JL thinks that this is easy seeing as Red “heads in a duffel bag” Hood is sitting right there. 

3  2  1 

The JL points at Red Hood

The entire Batfam points at Red Robin, including himself. 

[108garys]

Chaotic

@kassiekolchek22 @mistmoose @lonnitamongus @ultrabananapudding @joonbuggiie Oh the trials of raising a nearly 30yr old teenage murder clown(Josh knows damn well that he can get away with this bs 😂)

Edit: Josh's age is in reference to this au taking place in the 2020s

[yardsards]

looking back at steven universe and god. that show had such good diversity in their designs that very few animated shows before or since it have had. like there's the obvious diversity in race and weight representation but also just like. all the different body shapes and hair types and facial features. all of which were depicted without being a shorthand for a character being Gross And Comically Ugly (or worse, evil). like i think watching that show in my teen years (which are like. peak years for developing body based insecurities) was good for my self esteem. because with pretty much any trait that i had that i was made to feel bad about, there would be a character from my favourite show that had that trait.

[starry-bi-sky]

Unpleasant Revelations - DPxDC Ficlet Idea for the Stillborn Au

"Have you met my youngest, Damian, Mr. Masters?"

Its only from twenty years of long, hard experience and practice that Vlad doesn't increase the room temperature from 'borderline uncomfortably cool' to 'unbearably hot' the moment Bruce Wayne pulls his youngest and "only" biological son out in front of him.

He puts only in quotations because twelve year old Damian Wayne looks scarily, uncannily like one Daniel Brown. Jack and Maddie's foster son, second victim of their foolishness, and only other halfa in existence. Second only to him.

It's nauseating how similar they look. From the scowl and terrible glare on the young boy's face, to his brown skin -- which was only a few shades lighter than Daniel's, the shape of his nose, and even the strange winged edge of his eyebrow. Something that Vlad has long since come to find endearing on the child he considered a son of his own. The only difference was that Damian had dark, sharp green eyes.

Daniel's eyes were blue. The same glacier shade as his father's, who stood behind Damian with a proud, oafish smile on his visage.

It was infuriating how similar they look. Vlad might not have rapidly swung the room temperature from one extreme to the other, but he can't stop himself from letting the fury burning within his core from slipping out and raising the temperature up a few degrees.

Because it really only meant one thing.

Damian Wayne and Daniel Brown were related.

Damian Wayne and Daniel Brown were brothers.

Standing in front of him, it was clear as day. He can already picture a phantom image of Daniel standing beside Damian, the same scowl written on his face, the same glare carved into his eyes. The only difference being the dark, exhausted circles beneath them that seemed to be permanently painted onto his skin. The only thing missing being the permanent loneliness and vigilance permeating his being like a scar.

This, if revealed, would be enough to ruin Bruce Wayne's reputation. Or, at the very least, darken it quite a bit. The great philanthropist Bruce Wayne with another secret blood child? One related to his youngest? One that had been put into foster care? Seemingly thrown away?

It would be a firestorm.

One that Vlad is not keen on starting.

It would ruin Bruce Wayne's reputation, yes. But it would hurt Daniel in the process -- the harassment he would face alone might just be enough to break that fragile child completely. That was just not something he could allow. Or, even worse, bring him into his biological father's care and custody -- something Vlad was even less willing to allow.

It's not out of kindness to Wayne that Vlad will keep mum about this.

His grip on his champagne flute tightens, just a bit. He's still aware enough of the world around him to not let it shatter in his hands. His plastered, pleasant smile tightens around the corners, and he forces his focus to slide from Damian to Wayne.

"The resemblance is uncanny, Mister Wayne." He says, slanting his smile to the side slyly. Although he's not talking about the resemblance between Wayne and his son. Rage simmers beneath his skin, burning coal and embers in the core of his chest, nestled between his lungs, as he meets the man's eyes.

Wayne swaggles his head proudly, his ditzy smile widening as he squeezes his son's shoulder affectionately. Bastard, Vlad wants to spit.

He breathes in through his nose, and exhales out through his mouth. The champagne in his hand cools, and stops its unusual bubbling.

The Damian boy scoffs under his breath, his mouth still coiled upward into a scowl. With the revelation of his blood relation to Daniel evident, Vlad's not sure if he should find it endearing or not.

He is not Daniel, so he decides that it's just simply irritating. He decides to ignore it.

"And you said he was your only biological son?" He asks, voice lilting and head tilting. He knows its a suspicious question at worst, insulting at best. But considering Wayne's past proclivities, he can hardly call it an unexpected question.

Damian puffs in great offense, face twisting angrily. It reminds him of Daniel when Vlad insisted that he was wrong about something or other, and for a moment his heart swells, fond.

But this is not his child, and so the feeling quickly crashes and burns, simmering back into rage. This was not Daniel -- this was his replacement. A replacement that Wayne was free to keep.

Wayne chuckles, idiotically, as if he'd said some funny joke. Vlad's other hand, the one gripping his cane -- something he's required ever since he was dispatched from the hospital all those lonely years ago -- tightens instead. He grinds his teeth -- him and Jack Fenton would get along like a house on fire, he hates it.

"I can understand why you'd ask that, Mister Masters," Wayne says, squeezing Damian's shoulder again, "but yes, Damian is my only biological son. Although that doesn't mean I don't love my other children any less."

Bastard.

For all his posturing and flouncing about caring for his city and his children, Vlad never would have thought the Prince of Gotham capable of abandoning one of them.

But, well.

They all have their dark secrets.

And what one man throws away, another man picks up. If Bruce Wayne didn't want the treasure child that was Daniel Brown, then Vlad Masters was more than happy to take him instead.

"I see."

[to-be-a-dreamer]

Not to get too involved in discourse but “Agatha is a deeply traumatized person who is acting out of a place of hurt and deserves sympathy for the pain she's had to endure and understanding that the majority of her wrongdoings were committed out of desperation for survival” and “Intention doesn’t erase outcome and her pain doesn't undo the trauma and horror she's committed against others; her victims don't owe her forgiveness before redemption and it is reasonable for people who know nothing about her past to distrust her based on her reputation and the persona she displays” are both true statements that can coexist.

Please remember that "morally gray" means a person is neither good nor bad. Please do not reduce this incredibly complex character to entirely evil or entirely innocent because she is neither. She has done truly terrible, unforgivable things and is also a victim of cruelty and injustice. Let her be both.

[uselessalexis165]

even some more examples of mine