#HOLY SHIT I WRITE SO WELL

[aedan-mills]

WHAT THE HECK??? I WROTE THIS????????

Worse than Blood (CHADD Fic)

(First of all thank you to @auxctor for beta-ing this?! my first beta ever and I love what you did <3)

Charlie/Todd + AnderPerry Angst incoming (CW: Neil's death, angst) now on Ao3!

Charlie Dalton and Neil Perry were as close as brothers. Probably even closer. Even if you say that blood was thicker than water, whatever was running through their veins was much more dense and viscous.

Charlie and Neil fought different battles yet they were irrefutably the same kind of person. Adventurous, albeit impulsive, fun-loving, and clever young men, these two were destined to be best friends who had to face the world around them.

However, as Charlie would soon realize, they weren't the same. The world had to remind Charlie that he and Neil were different, in more ways than one. Though they wore the same uniform to school, their grades were different. Though they both went to Welton, a prestigious prep-school, Neil's parents thought that fact wasn't enough. Though they both had passion in their hearts, Neil wasn't allowed to reach for them like Charlie could.

Charlie was never jealous of Neil because of this, he fought tooth and nail to make sure Neil looked good in front of his parents, taking the blame for almost all their antics together. He did his best to make sure Neil was happy when he was at Welton, when he was away from his parents, free to be himself. But it wasn't enough.

Every time Neil checked into his dorm room, every time Charlie would chime in and ask how his summer went with a jester-like grin, Neil would always sound morose or even quite aggravated.

Except for one year. Their junior year of High School.

Charlie sauntered once more into Neil's room, putting up his usual schtick of asking about his summer but Neil seemed... different. It wasn't huge, but he seemed to be excited about something. Charlie soon realized there was another boy in Neil's room, the new kid.

Nothing really compelled Charlie to act so cool, but he figured the new kid needed to see how ‘cool’ Welton was. So Charlie lit up a cigarette and laid back on Neil's bed.

Neil eventually introduced him as Todd Anderson. After Meeks introduced himself, he and Todd shared a short yet memorable glance. Of course, being Charlie Dalton, he flashed him a smirk, making Todd even more skittish. Not that this fazed Charlie, but it was kind of cute how shy Todd was from the get-go.

At first, Charlie felt sorry for Todd, seeing how nervous he was in Nolan's office. Poor kid couldn’t even say he wanted to join the Rowing Club properly. He noticed how aloof Todd was when it came to joining their study group. Neil tried to ask him to come along but he refused. Charlie figured if he asked him, maybe he could've convinced him on the first try.

When Neil decided to restart the Dead Poets Society, Charlie instantly joined his brother, seeing how happy it made him to gain immediate encouragement. They soon got Cameron, Meeks, Pitts, and even Knox in, but not the Todd fellow.

Pity soon turned into sympathy when Charlie saw Todd shyly studying on his own while he and the others discussed the way to the cave. After being silenced by Mr. McAllister, Neil made his way over to Todd. Charlie observed how close they were, how intimately Neil asked Todd to join. He knew Neil was incessant that way, still wanting things to go his way if he could help it. Todd fluttered his eyes the more Neil leaned in and Charlie could only marvel by how dense his best friend was. Poor kid must have been very intimidated by Neil.

The more Charlie got to know Todd, the more their Dead Poet Meetings became a success amongst themselves, the more Charlie would appreciate his company. He'd see that Todd was much more sarcastic and wittier than he initially thought him out to be. Neil made sure to remind him of that too.

The day Charlie's brotherhood with Neil changed was the day he would be sitting idly by his bed, passing the time with his bongos while Cameron was gone. Neil hurriedly barged in his room before closing the door behind him. It wasn't the fact that Neil dropped to the floor and basically told Charlie that he had feelings for Todd and that his heart was about to burst from so much infatuation that made Charlie's own heart pang like it did. It was the simple fact that it was the same time he realized he liked Todd Anderson too.

For every reason Neil listed down about his feelings for Todd, Charlie would nod-- not in acceptance, but in agreement. Neil and Charlie were truly brothers, two twins separated from birth, and could very well be the same human being, even to the point that they loved the same person. It was a bitter realization for Charlie, to wish so badly he wasn't the same as Neil in that regard.

He watched as his best friend became closer to someone he liked. He watched as Neil and Todd grew even more dependent on each other. He watched as Todd's lips began to smile just by being around Neil alone.

Charlie never needed to know if Todd returned Neil's feelings, to be honest, he never wanted to know if they'll end up together. Charlie thought: what could be worse than seeing your best friend romance the love of your life? To watch Neil on stage perform amazingly while Todd whole-heartedly applauded him towards the end? What could be worse than this feeling?

Charlie's question was sorely answered one Winter morning. On the day he was informed that Neil had passed away without leaving a note or any form of resolution, nothing for Todd. Charlie was tasked with one of the worst things on Earth, with being the one to tell Todd about Neil's death.

How should you feel about this? How should you feel when you tell your best friend's crush that he died? How should you feel when you tell the person you're in love with that someone who loved them, probably even more than you, died? How do you tell Todd Anderson that Neil Perry fucking died? Before he could confess. Before Charlie got to see how this ended. Before he would know how Todd felt about either of them.

Charlie couldn't understand why Neil left before he had the chance to spend his life with Todd, or even continue living in general. He couldn't fathom why Neil would leave him alone too. His brother left him, he left Todd, he left them all in this barren and cold wasteland. Charlie couldn't understand Neil anymore. Charlie, for the first time, couldn't accept what Neil thought his life was like. The stuff in their veins, drained from their shared experiences and poured out into the snow like a giant red target. A giant signal just reminding them of how vastly different they were.

Charlie, for a miniscule moment, thought Neil being gone was the mark of him not understanding people anymore.

It wasn't until he saw Todd vomiting onto the snow that he realized this wasn’t true.

Todd was desperately muttering words, desperately trying to get everyone to understand Neil's unfortunate turn-- that it was his Father who killed him. As Todd bawled and stuttered his words, all Charlie could do was watch the truth unfold.

As Todd yanked himself away from their grips, throwing a desperate yawp, shouting Neil's name towards the frozen lake, that's when Charlie saw it.

Todd was in love with Neil. He always has been.

Todd loved Neil, more than Charlie could love either of them. They were more inseparable, much faster than Charlie could ever attempt to be with Neil when they were growing up. Todd was aware of how different Neil and him were and yet he knew they could make it work. Todd's aching call into the void was him knowing what he and Neil could've had, better than Charlie will ever have with either of them. And that made it all the while worse.

What's worse than finding out your best friend loves the same person as you? Worse than your best friend dying? Worse than telling the person you love your best friend died?

Finding out that the person you're in love with just lost the only person they'll ever love and that it was your best friend.

The liquid that used to run in Charlie's veins began to solidify and constrict his heart. They muddied his soul and left nothing for him to feel. With his realization, Charlie's heart was no longer pumping with blood, but something much thicker and bleaker. Something much worse than jealousy. Anguish.

[hailsatanacab]

Family Dinners - dpxdc

"Holy shit, you're Bruce Wayne!" Danny gaped, jabbing a finger at the man sitting at the head of the table.

The bustling dining room goes silent as everyone turns to look at him.

"Danny, who did you think was going to be here?" Tim asks, disbelief plain in his voice and Danny feels his face flush red.

"Sorry, I, uh, I guess I just never put it together. Tim Drake-Wayne. Wayne Manor. It, uh, makes sense now." He laughs sheepishly and scrubs at his neck before slumping back down into his chair.

"Well," Tim says with an indulgent sigh, "at least I know you're not just friends with me for my connections."

"Yeah, I'm really sorry, I just never thought about it, I guess."

Danny sinks lower as everyone around him laughs. Come to dinner, he said, the food is the best, he said, ignore the family, he said. Danny really wishes he'd listened to Tim and just ignored them—almost as much as he's regretting accepting the offer in the first place—but... he's having dinner with Batman.

Ancients, that's so weird!

The last time he saw Batman was in the future and, suffice it to say, it was not going well. There hadn't really been time for family dinners there.

Wait. Family dinners?

He peers around the table, openly gawking at everyone as it all clicks into place.

"Everything alright, Danny? Now realising who everyone else is?" Tim asks with a roll of his eyes.

"Uh... something like that..." Danny mumbles as everyone laughs again.

From further down the table, the smallest Wayne scoffs and clicks his tongue.

"I thought you said he was smart, Drake?"

"So, you all do it, too, then?" he asks, ignoring the jibe. Danny's only a little bit jealous as he thinks of how much easier they must have it, how much easier it'd be if his family had been on his side, too. "You all work together?"

"Nah," Dick says from across the table with a brilliant grin. "Tim's the only one that works with Bruce, we all have different jobs. I'm a police officer in Bludhaven."

"Disgusting." Danny blurts out without thinking—because seriously, what kind of self-respecting vigilante would also be a police officer?—before clapping a hand over his mouth. "Sorry."

The whole table laughs again, the loudest being the blonde girl a few spaces down from Dick. Look, Danny wasn't really paying attention to names when they were all paraded in front of him. Dick only gets remembered because his name is a joke.

Come on, Danny, recover!

"That's, uh, not what I meant, though."

"Oh?" Dick asks, cocking his head slightly to the side. Is it Danny's imagination or does his smile tense slightly?

"Yeah, I mean like, you know, in costume. It must make it so much easier to have everyone together like this."

"Costume? What do you mean?"

Yeah, Danny's not imagining it, everyone tenses up at that. It's really only now that he's realising that this probably isn't how he should bring up that he knows about their... night time activities. In fact, he probably shouldn't be bringing it up at all.

"Uuhhh..." Danny looks wildly around the table as he continues making his stupid noise. Think, think, think! There must be a way out of this!

"Danny?" Tim asks, looking concerned.

"Oh, Ancients, this isn't how I wanted it to go at all," he mutters, slipping even further into his chair. He's almost on the floor now and he so, so wishes it could just swallow him up.

His real first meeting with Batman was meant to be cool! He had planned to be Phantom, maybe save them from a tight spot, prove his worth as a mysterious and powerful ally as thanks for the help Batman gave him in the future.

"Danny, what are you talking about?" Tim starts tugging on his sleeve in an attempt to pull him back up from his pit of despair.

Eventually, Danny relents and sits up straighter, hiding his face in his hands and whining all the while.

"I'm sorry, I just didn't expect him to be here and it threw me off so now I look stupid and it's so embarrassing!" he wails, flailing his arms wide. "Why wouldn't you warn me that Batman was your adopted dad, Tim? Couldn't you have let me know?"

"I'm sorry, what? Danny are you alright? There's no way Bruce can be Batman, look at him!"

"Yeah," the blonde girl laughs from the bottom of the table, "look at him! That's a wet noodle of a man! Batman can actually do things, B is incapable of pretty much everything."

"Thank you, Stephanie," Bruce sighs, massaging his forehead.

It's... Those are the first words Danny's heard Batman say since everything went down and it's enough to knock him out of his embarrassment.

It's really good to hear his voice again. Especially now, when it's strong and healthy and full of personality—even if that personality is little more than a tired father right now—far better than how it had been, at the end.

Danny sits up, back straight, and grins. He's got this. He remembers it perfectly. Some people count sheep to fall asleep, Danny repeats his mantra to be certain that he'll never forget it.

"Gamma alpha upsilon tau iota mu epsilon, 42, 63, 28, 1 colon 65 dash 9."

Once again, the whole table falls into silence.

"Holy shit..." breathes the other D name (Duke? Danny's pretty sure he's Signal) from opposite Stephanie. "Isn't that...?"

"The time travelling code." The littlest Wayne says stiffly. "We have met in the future?"

"That's not just the time travelling code, Dami." Dick says, looking between Danny and Bruce. "That's the family time travelling code."

Danny's grin freezes in place.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"1 colon 65 dash 9." Dick explains, still flicking between him and Bruce. "It means you've been adopted into the family and we should all treat you as such, no questions asked."

"Tell you what, I'm about to ask a question." Danny says, dumbstruck. "You just told me it was a code to identify time travellers, not anything about being adopted! What the hell, B?"

Bruce looks about as shellshocked as Danny feels.

"We must have been close," he says finally, after opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water a few times.

"No! Not that close!" Danny reels back, taking a deep breath ready to refute it all, but... "Well, I mean, you found me when I first got stuck, and you helped me get better despite being... And then we fought together against the, uh, bad guy, before he, um, he... before you couldn't."

An uncomfortable beat passes while they all pick up on what Danny tried so hard not to say.

"So, you're not from the future, then, you travelled there and came back?" Tim asks, breaking the tension and leaning forward with a glint in his eye.

"Yeah, it was a whole end of the world thing, but don't worry about it," Danny says with a hand wave, "It's all kosher now, won't ever happen."

"What did happen?"

"Seriously, don't worry about it, we cool."

"How long in the future was it?"

"About ten years? You were pretty spry for an old man, B," Danny laughs, wishing they'd get off the topic of what happened and get back to the adoption bit.

Everyone shares degrees of a cautious smile as they relax out of the shock, and Dick—whose grin is the biggest—says, "No wonder you got the family code, you're already riffing on him like one of us. How long were you there for?"

"A week, before I managed to get back to my present and stop him then."

"A week? Jeez, B, that has to set some kind of record, seriously."

"Oh!" Danny says, sitting bolt upright and blinking in surprise before pointing at Dick and bouncing in his seat. "You're Nightwing!"

"What?"

"That's exactly what Nightwing said when Batman told me the code! Makes so much more sense now."

Dick laughs and claps his hands, delighted.

"You were not formally adopted?" The grumpy small one—Dami?—asks, his face pinched.

"I didn't even know I was informally adopted."

"And your parents? Are they alive or dead?"

"Damian, stop—"

"They were dead in the future, but they're alive now." Danny says, looking down. He fiddles with the tablecloth, twisting the fabric around his fingers as he fights down the pang of sadness that he always feels when he thinks of them now. He forces a bright smile on his face and hopes it doesn’t look too strained. "I just, uh, can't talk to them much, anymore."

"Damian," Dick warns, "1 colon 65 dash 9. Treat them as family, no questions asked."

"This is Damian treating him as family, the little turd has no manners." Tim scoffs, rolling his eyes, but he gently bumps shoulders with Danny to knock him out of his funk. Danny can't help but send him a watery smile.

"I have the most exemplary manners, Drake, unlike some people." Damian spits, crossing his arms with a pout. "I was merely ascertaining his status to see how he could possibly fit into the family."

"I know this is all a bit sudden, Danny," Bruce smiles, ignoring Damian and reaching out to lay a warm hand on his arm, "for all of us. But if I felt strongly enough to give you that code after spending a week with you in the future, then you are more than welcome in this family, if you so choose it. I think I can speak for all of us when I say we'd like to get to know you a bit more."

"I know a threat when I hear it, Bruce." Danny snorts. "But, yeah, I get it. I'm sorry this is all so weird, it really wasn't how I wanted to find you again, but... I'm glad I did."

"So are we, Danny." Dick says, with a warm smile. "And formally or not, 1 colon 65 dash 9 means you're family. Welcome to the fun house! No take backs or refunds, sorry. You're stuck with us."

[yuridovewing]

im sure this has been said a lot, but man. why are the sibling relationships with the protagonists so bad now. like squirrelflight and leafpool were close, the Three had conflicts but it was still clear that they loved and mourned one another. firestar had an okay relationship with princess even if things were kinda weird. and dovewing and ivypool fought, but you still understood that they loved each other and were in conflict, at least in oots. now all the siblings either resent each other or their relationship is not important to the emotional core of the story at all.

[venomous-qwille]

My first stab at drawing Sol from Ghost in the Machine AU. Sol is my ('definitely not got the virus nope no virus here' 'Moon? Never heard of him' 'everything is absolutely fine ha ha ha') version of Sun introduced in the first arc of GITM! Soleil was one of the Daycare Attendants at the only Freddy's location in Canada, where he worked without incident until the company's liquidation in 20XX. As you can see, he is perfectly fine :) Ghost in the Machine AU is a DCAverse style AU set in the future, where an eccentric collector of Superstar Daycare memorabilia hoards the rarest and most elusive of treasures from the (long defunct) Fazbear Entertainment Company: the Daycare Attendant animatronic line. The story of the AU follows this motley group of DCA animatronics brought together from all over the world, as they try and figure out what living looks like. [ID: a digital drawing of Sol from Ghost in the Machine AU. He is standing hands clasped together, smiling at the viewer. He is mostly in shadow, giving a sinister edge to his expression. He wears a dress shirt, an apron embroidered with rays and clouds and two tone striped pants. There is a long yellow evening glove covering his right arm. /End ID]

[msmc-796-official]

I... have a confession to make, of sorts. There won't ever be a good time to admit this, unfortunately, so it's best I get this off my chest now, and ask for forgiveness rather than permission.

It has not been easy speaking with all of the flashclones who have made themselves known in the wake of Union's latest raids; both for myself, and the squadron at large. I must commend my squadmates for handling themselves with the utmost professionalism - while my own correspondences with these newest members of the Omninet have been what I would consider adequately polite, I've been biting my tongue the entire time, and I fear that my personal discomfort with the issue is starting to slip through the cracks.

To this end, I wish to share my thoughts publicly, that I might better express my own emotions towards this complicated, frustrating, and highly nuanced issue. I only ask that you hear me out in full before you render judgement, and pronounce your sentence carefully.

First: an observation.

MSMC policy requires that all pilots dictate an end-of-life plan at the time of their recruitment, that their final wishes may be carried out by the company in the event of their death under MSMC's employ. The options provided for this are effectively unlimited, allowing the pilot a great deal of choice and freedom in planning their postmortem arrangements. These plans may also be altered in the future should circumstances change, provided the pilot is of sound body and mind.

Under MSMC policy, in compliance with the policies set forth by Union, one of the available postmortem options is flashcloning.

In my fifteen-odd years serving under MSMC, I have only heard of three pilots who have willingly chosen to be flashcloned after death (thus prolonging not only their life, but their term of service under MSMC as well). Of these, I have only personally met one, affiliated with MSMC-808 "5Q8R3 L00P3RZ" - I believe their current iteration goes by callsign Lemniscate. While I do not know how many times they have been cloned during their term of service, their current iteration seems happy enough, and their squadmates reassure me that they've maintained a consistent identity (plus or minus the odd quirk, as is typical of flashclones) throughout their life (lives?).

Second: a digression.

I purchased my Dusk Wing, And The Voice of Apollo Spoke From On High (Apollo for short), from an SSC showroom on a planet whose name I no longer recall. The curated atmosphere called to mind the high marble pillars and lush green-blue waters of some distant Cradle mythology where gods roamed the earth and mortals strove to emulate them, punished and rewarded for their folly in equal measure with gifts and curses beyond name. Each frame was posed as the statues of old on Cradle, too-human limbs arrayed in too-human poses, each a machine of war turned living art piece.

Apollo, true to its future name, was arrayed in flight; hover-jets draped with sunlight-yellow gossamer, veil rifle aimed in its middle tier of manipulators with the same care and precision as an archer would take with their bow. To see it lowered to the floor after its purchase was to see Icarus fall; to climb inside its cockpit for the first time, to don wax-and-feather wings of my own and fly.

The old tales caution that divinity has a cost, and I too paid the price. A vial of blood, drawn with silver needle and spirited away into an unseen cooler before my pen ever touched paper. Apollo was mine, but SSC had received a far greater gift in its place: a sample of my DNA, unwillingly donated as the price for my divine armament.

Even now, this price weighs heavy on my head like the sword which hung above Damocles, poised to drop without a moment's notice with each new Union raid on yet another forgotten cloning facility. Who can say on what distant planet the children I did not birth sleep in stasis - children with my eyes, my hair, my nose, my smile; sons and daughters who will never be called as such because, to their creators, they are slaves, weapons, property - anything but human.

Third: an explanation.

I believe that flashcloning, in its current state as of 5016u, as approved by Union's Third Committee (and exploited by the likes of SSC, HA, and several countless others across the stars) is an inherently unethical practice; both for those who donate their DNA (willingly or otherwise), as well as for those persons produced by it.

To see countless lives created, manipulated, slaughtered, and recycled in the name of so-called "progress"; to see inherently human beings stripped of every vestige of humanity but the body in which they reside and then forcibly brainwashed and molded into soldiers, medics, mechanics, weapons, machines, slaves, property - it is an abominable and inhumane practice that should have died a slow and painful death in the darkness from whence it was birthed.

This being said: I cannot stand idly by as the products of this inhumane practice continue to suffer. No matter whether it is beneath the apathetic gaze of Union, the dehumanizing bootheel of HA, or the eugenicist scalpel of SSC, I will not allow my fellow persons to endure another day of abuse at the hands of those who would abandon their own creations as little more than imperfect failures for daring to remind their creators of their sentience.

Alone, I can do nothing. I too am but a cog in this great uncaring machine humanity has built, one which prospers on suffering and bloodshed and the work of hands which have forgotten the body to which they are attached. Even if I were to risk life and limb and reputation to make my position known, it is a battle which lies dead in the water - it is impossible to halt the wheels of progress without irreparably damaging the future which relies on their turning.

And so I fight. I fight for those who have forgotten their humanity, both willingly and unwillingly, that they might find something of their own - identity, purpose, desires, connection, life - that reminds them of what they were and are and always have been: human.

-- Angel

[trash-gremlin]

could you imagine how good spirit animals would be if it wasn't written as a children's series

[sillygoofyqueer]

THIS IS GOING ON MY MAIN BECAUSE I JUST HAVE TO LET EVERYONE KNOW THAT THIS FANFICTION BROKE ME. I'M CURRENTLY VIBRATING. UNABLE TO THINK OR PROCESS ANYTHING. I HAVE SO MUCH ENERGY AND NOTHING TO DO WITH IT. JESUS FUCKING CHRIST. LORD ALMIGHTY. @vinelark, YOU HAVE SINGLE HANDEDLY GRIPPED ME INTO THIS PLOT AND I'M THIS CLOSE TO SOBBING AND THANK YOU SO SO SO MUCH FOR WRITING IT AND I HATE YOU SO MUCH AND I LOVE YOU SO MUCH AND I WOULD WHIP OUT A RING FOR YOU AND I'D LEAVE YOU AT THE ALTER AND AND AND

[cosmichorrorlesbians]

what's your dissertation about? you mentioned it in the siltcord and i'm really interested

oh my god hey I'm so happy you're interested! broad strokes because I've only been working on it for a few weeks but: the current theme is 'resistant landscapes' (both man-made and natural) in the later writing of Shirley Jackson!

Essentially, my main thread is that Jackson had two parallel strands to her work, which as far as I can tell began kind of interrelated but then diverged quite significantly? She's probably best known now for The Haunting of Hill House and to a lesser extent We Have Always Lived In The Castle, which are these. weird surreal psychological horror novels, engaging explicitly or implicitly with the supernatural, and centred around introspective, strange and sometimes deeply misanthropic female characters from isolated social units with dysfunctional, possessive relationships to each other.

Aaaaand then on the other hand she was known for being a 'happy housewife' who wrote these whimsical, quasi-autobiographical stories about all her children and how hopeless her husband was. These were popular too. Betty Friedan called her out in landmark 1963 feminist manifesto The Feminine Mystique for essentially spreading patriarchal propaganda.

The interrelation between the two is really jarring, because in one family is a source of horror and tragedy and in the other it's a source of, like... laundry. And Jackson's home life wasn't everything those stories made it out to be-- her marriage was unfaithful, her mother could probably be fairly called emotionally abusive, and as I talked about on the siltcord, she developed severe agoraphobia which often left her housebound.

So, yeah. My plan is to explore the depiction of families as constructed social units in dialogue with the environments they are constructed in in that work. Obviously a lot of that is relation of house to family, in the context of which Hill House is especially rewarding to consider, but I also want to look at relationships with nature and urban environments (especially in the context of settler colonialism and how that has had an enduring legacy in Jackson's particular part of New England), xenophobia (largely in regard to class, though racism and anti-Semitism are presences in her writing), domesticity and the idea of the housewife, and how horror relates to All Of This. The ideal of making a home within a hostile environment and of that environment turning on you, essentially.

I don't yet have particular areas of focus within that broad umbrella, but I might update with bits and pieces about it as I work? I don't really talk about academic stuff on here but I am very much Critical Literary Analysis Guy and I do also post relentlessly about haunted houses as a concept so if people would be interested in it maybe I will

anyway if you've read this far I recommend Horror in Architecture: The Reanimated Edition (2024) by Joshua Comaroff and Ong Ker-Shing which is a book about how horror movie tropes can be mirrored in built environments! I'm reading it right now and it's conceptually fascinating plus fairlyyy comprehensible by academic standards (if a little dense) if you, like me, are a Fool who knows nothing of architecture. very good also for getting to look at pictures of some of the most Fucked Up Buildings (affectionate) you've ever seen.

[writterings]

me with my 18 year old students that i teach at a college

[freaky-flawless]

Finally finished with these two! Which is ironic since they were the first ones I drew lol. You can find Tori's old ref here!

Some more info on them under the cut:

As much as he doesn't want to acknowledge it, its pretty much an open secret to everyone that knows of him that Kris is the estranged son of Krampus. From a young age he was opposed to following in his fathers footsteps, and for years tried his best to fight against it. Once he hit high school, he struck up a deal with his dad that he would pick up the mantle once he graduated. Kris agreed and promptly dropped out just shy of his graduation date. And he's been living on his own ever since.

He works at a gas station near Monster High, and is well liked by the students for his surprisingly good advice and tendency to turn a blind eye towards obviously fake IDs. His apartment is near New Salem University where he spends a lot of his free time hanging out with his buddies from school, one of them being Luci Ferguson, the heir of hell. The two go way back, they're dad's being close friends. As it stands Kris is cruising through life without much of a care in the world, or so it seems. Deep down he regrets his decision to cut his education short, and feels his life is pretty directionless.

Tori is a Zodiac Monster, a rich and exclusive community of monsters who tend to only congregate amongst themselves. While being a Zodiac monster may have meant something long long ago, nowadays it's little more than a title, one that denotes a lot of social power. That pressure, as well as all the drama and critiques that come with living in such a tight-knit social circle, leads to Tori wanting an out, or at least a break from the Zodiac Monster lifestyle. She finds her chance once it's time for her to go to college.

While Tori is very sweet and tries her best to be considerate of others, she's also somewhat naive and socially awkward. She has a tendency to say very out of touch things, not immediately recognizing that not everyone grew up as wealthy and privileged as she did. Regardless she's very open-minded and enjoys hearing all sorts of different perspectives. She;s incredibly grateful when Fangel, Demonique, and Luci take her under their wings, especially since she's starting completely new in terms of making friends. It doesn't take long for her to meet Kris and become fascinated (and even somewhat enamored) by his sloppiness and carefree lifestyle.

[cluescorner]

I gave myself a writing challenge and I am fascinated by it

So basically I put the robins in a randomizer to give them a new order/role (because I just...kinda wanted to see what would happen + I like role-reversal AUs) and got results that are giving me a fucking brain blast.

Stephanie, the first sidekick who defines the role

Tim, the sidekick who dies and comes back wrong

Dick, the sidekick who saves Batman from himself

Damian, the sidekick who was never supposed to be a sidekick but would go on to prove everyone wrong

Jason, the youngest sidekick who is still the Kid Wonder

...So this is fucking wild. I've got some ideas and several of these fit perfectly (Dick's role is pretty similar to his one in canon), but some of these are fucking INCREDIBLE to explore (Steph being the first Robin is something I never even considered but tbh I kinda love it).

I probably won't write a fic or anything because tbh I don't like publishing my writing that much, but I might expand this into a full AU and post about it. I might randomize other stuff too (ie, stuff that I cannot change vs stuff that I cannot keep the same) but this fucking rules as a starting point.

[shitpost-it-tristan]

Nah cAUSE I know, FELIX DIDNOTJUST— there AINT NO WAY.

The Fix-it Felix Jr fromthegame Fix-it Felix Jr. DID NOT call RalpH,

FUCKING B I G N O S E✋️💀

Nah cause Ralph, "B I G eArS" he didn't have to cALL HIM OUT LIKE THAT– cause nAH. Unprovoked,, Ralph out here– OHMYGOD.

RALPH wREcKING CONFIDENCE 🗣

the fucking grin,, the SHIT EATING GRIN! my smug ass, chUCKLING. Man I'm, sO PROUD OF MYSELF

Nah I'm not gonna lie, Felix caught that mug smOoThLy. But then— nah caUSE fIRST OF ALL, a- ✨️AUuGhh~✨️ nnO caUSE,,,,thE soUND. whYTHEFUCK,, MaN, his ass went "AaUuGhh~ BeLiEvE tHiS iS yOuRs."

Man, he's got the vibe, he's the dad that asks, "aRe Y'aLL rEaDy tO RoCk n' RoLL!?"👉👉 after paying the bill at a restaurant.

He would do the finger guns, and the "eheh I mAdE a fuNnY" tone. Man, the genuine grin, like he didn't just make 15 kids cringe. Oh god, the way he was cheering at the race. Homie out here, yel— nah he's not "yelling." He's WHOOPING and HOLLERING, Y'all see it too, right?? Oh man, I'm starting to think this is canon.

Did you guys hear him do the NESQUIKSAND NOISE, that shit caught me off guard! The EXACT same, "oUuGh-oH—"

I fully thought he wasn't going to catch the mug, man. He just got lucky catching the first one💀

[yellowocaballero]

SHAZAM SHAZAM SHAZAM pls tell us about billy batson. ive only ever seen the movies o great comic knower

Very very very VERY far from comic expert (that's brawltogethernow) but I have read a lot of Shazam. His history is actually really, really fascinating and involves more than one lawsuit that really defined very early comics. I'll focus on one thing, though.

There are two Captain Marvels: One from the 1940s to around 2013, and one from 2013 til now. The Captain Marvel you're familiar with (who is named Shazam) is from 2013. He's a more realistic, grounded character. He was created to be pretty much the polar opposite of his original version. The best summary is to say that the Wizard chose Billy Batman 1940 because he had the purest heart, and the Wizard chose Billy Batson ~2013 because he was there. My personal 'best' Shazam story is the "Shazam: The Monster Society of Evil" graphic novel by the guy who made Bone. It's good because it's for elementary schoolers yet acknowledges this small child as homeless. Which, don't get me wrong, you shouldn't always do. My personal favorite is the 1970s ones.

As some background: Otto Binder was the creator/main writer of the very early Captain Marvel comics. He was by far and away the best writer of the early Superman Silver Age comics, because all of his comics were batshit insane. Shazam has a complicated and legal history with Superman, so the 1970 run was a super fun high camp tongue in cheek reinvention of the best Silver Age stories.

So the 1970 Captain Marvel comics are insane.

I can't even summarize them without sounding crazy. Basically the conceit is that Captain Marvel, Captain Marvel Jr, and Mary Marvel (Billy, Freddy, and Mary) are having 1940s Golden Age Adventures when they get somehow in suspended animation and are basically time travelled to the 1970s. This don't bother them too much. Why would it bother them. Nothing bothers these people. Nothing. I don't think anybody experiences a negative emotion in these comics. Not bc they were twee. Bc they were insane.

Many of the comics basically had three shorter comics inside it: one Billy story, one Mary story, one Freddy story. Interestingly, they all had different art styles, artists, types of story, genre, etc. Billy's stories had a cartoony art style with very over-the-top and silly plotlines that involved supervillain bad dudes. Freddy's art was slightly more realistic and was slighty more grounded, but still had some classic Marvel indescribable scifi that can best be summarized as that one meme panel people have seen where Sivana recites a science equation that lets him walk through walls. Mary's stories were much more realistically drawn and featured the most banal shit, like her starting a club with her friends. Somehow Mary Marvel gets involved in those.

Sometimes they worked together and did superhero things and fought bad guys. The average fight looked like this:

Billy was a twelve year old who lived by himself, in his own apartment, had his own radio show, a full-ass job, a whole thing as Captain Marvel. He paid fucking taxes. Everybody knew this and nobody cared. He's the most affable, good natured kid on the face of the planet. Nothing bothers him. Nothing. Nothing bothers any of these people. Sivana shows up and he's BIG MAD so he's creating another death ray and Captain Marvel shows up like "Oh you rascal! Time to punch this and go back to helping my friend eat his infinite Jello."

He has a friend named Talky Tawny, who is a talking tiger wearing a suit. He also has a friend named Sunny Smiles, a person of indeterminate gender who everybody falls in love with, for unexplained and unknown reasons. Not to be confused with Freddy's friend Gregory Gosharootie, the "World's Dullest Mortal", who is so boring that nobody notices him and he keeps accidentally comitting crime. There is also an old guy named Uncle Marvel who pretends he has superpowers, which they all find funny so they just roll with it. Freddy is a disabled orphan who has to sell papers on the street corner to make a living. Mary lives in a middle class suburban home with loving foster parents. It never once seems to occur to Mary's parents to adopt Billy, for Freddy to live with Billy. Everybody is happiest this way.

I do think this is partly why a good Shazam comic has to be aimed at the 6-12yo demographics. They have to be for small children, because Billy is living a complete and utter power fantasy that only a ten year old would think is a good idea. He's a kid, and he doesn't have drag parents or a lame family, but he can turn into Superman, and he can also do magic, and everybody loves him and thinks he's the nicest person, and his supervillains are Dr. Doofenschmirtz and a worm, and his supporting cast is like okay my sister if she HAS to be involved, but also my best friend who is a paperboy! but cool because he's disabled, and….

Look, you could engage with that seriously. You could go "holy shit this is a homeless child". That's fine. That's what they do these days, and that's what they did in the movies. Nothing wrong with that. Take the story more seriously.

But also they don't give a worm the electric chair in those stories, so.

To actually give some commentary on these comics: these comics really love people. I've never seen comics that were so entrenched in their community. The kids just know everybody they meet on the street. Freddy delivers paper up and down every block, so an average story for him is just talking to a butcher or baker or old man or grumpy housewife and helping them out with some batshit problem. Mary's a sweet girl who's always starting clubs with her friends and taking on neighborhood projects. Many Billy stories involve one of his many friends falling into some trouble and Captain Marvel helping them out - or just exploring some fun with Billy hanging out with Sunny Smiles, who is a person of indeterminate gender who for some reason has magic love brainwashing powers -

This isn't the biggest #Shazam take, but I think a good Shazam story stays grounded in that. These are poor street kids who love Fawcett City so damn much. They love fighting their supervillains, but they love helping out the random guy off the street with their problems even more. Way more so than Spider-Man or a lot of other guys, I think of the Marvel family as the friendly neighborhood superheroes. They're both larger than life and street level. They're Superman level powers but they just use the powers for wrapping up their hijinks. Isn't that nice? Aren't you tired of going apeshit? Don't you just want to be nice?

[aroacee-of-spades]

^ face of someone (me) who just finished the arcane finale

[fake-static-airspace]

glistening!!! (is this even recognizable as utk fanart idc atp)

here’s the screenshot of the actual conversation

im not tagging him, he just gets to see this on his feed and react accordingly >:3

[deoidesign]

I was scrolling and saw your art and it made me really happy because I realized you made time and time again!!!

It’s literally one of my favorite things I’ve ever read, so cool!!!

This is so sweet, thank you for sharing!

It's sort of "illusion breaking" so to speak, to think of my art being both out there in a way that someone could happen upon it, and then further that someone may happen upon it twice, and finally that on doing so they find it recognizable...

I always think of myself and my work as something that sort of sits behind the curtain. The idea that it might take up space in this way is unreal!

This is the kind of thing that means more than you could imagine.

So thank you!