#i also have CONCEPTS and IDEAS in my head

[hatchan]

The first Goosebumps movie: Welcome to Dead House

I had read several Goosebumps books, but never knew the movies existed until I picked up that one at my local library.

I think this was the first thing I ever watched that included zombies as the main antagonists. The movie scared me TERRIBLY. In particular I think what got to me was when the zombies entered a character's bedroom because they never, ever stopped chasing. The relentless pursuit of it all! And to me, a child, the bedroom/bed was "safe." Scary things existed, I had seen/read many scary things by then, but when you're in bed and you put the blanket over your head, nothing can get you! The blanket is a sacred forcefield and the scary things cannot penetrate the blanket, and also my bedroom, with the door closed, was by extension "safe."

But the zombies chased the character into his or her bedroom. The locked doors and windows didn't stop the zombies in their relentless pursuit. And the blanket was not a sacred protective forcefield. The zombies couldn't be so easily deterred.

Many years later, I studied linguistics in college and learned about the concept of "doxa" (related to words like "orthodox" and "paradox" and "heterodoxy"). That is, in my un-academic words, The Thing That is True. The beliefs we have that is about the Facts, The Way Things Are, the baseline understanding of reality. Things that are taken for granted and common sense. And when something happens that clashes with existing doxa, and reality directly contradicts itself, that's where fear comes from.

An example my professor gave me was the horror movie Psycho by Albert Hitchcock. The woman introduced to us as a protagonist is killed in the shower, stabbed to death. Even now, you hear of people checking behind the shower curtains for killers, mostly as a joke, but the fear of being killed in the shower became a real thing. Taking a shower in your own home is meant to be Safe and even a nice ritual of self care. But watching this movie, where someone is killed in the shower, broke the doxa and introduced the idea that it's possible to die that way. It was always possible--but we didn't know we had that belief until we experienced the contradiction of it. And it's scary!

So that movie, Welcome to Dead House, was the time my doxic belief in the safety of a bed and bedroom was shown to be false. My bedroom was not the safe place I assumed it to be all this time and learning you're wrong is scary and upsetting and I had to figure out a different way to cope

reblog this and put in the tags something you watched that terrified you as a child. i was so scared of the hot sauce in spongebob that i refused to be in the room when it was on

[lalacliffthorne]

🖤 the fake dating scheme 🖤

Azriel x Reader

part I part II

summary: a scheme needs rules.

notes: didn't think so many people would be into this concept tbh. hope you keep enjoying it 🖤 ______________________________________________________________

The lock clicks, and I push open the door, waving my hand.

Fae lights flicker to life. Their warm glow spills through the small living room, soft and familiar, and I hesitate before looking over my shoulder.

The floorboards creak gently. Then shadows bleed over the threshold, whispering quietly, and my breath catches.

Azriel slowly steps through the doorway. His wings brush against the frame, and the warm golden light turns his eyes into liquid amber as they slide over the worn leather couch, the shelves spilling over with books and the dining table covered in documents.

Shadows coil gently around his wings, whispering where they meet the light.

He's never been here before. Maybe because I am too protective of my own space.

Now, he looks so out of place looming in the doorway that a giggle nearly bubbles in my throat.

Cauldron. This really is absolutely and entirely mad.

For a moment, I hesitate, my heart pounding firmly against my ribs. Then I turn quickly.

"I think we need to set some ground rules."

Azriel's eyes move away from the daggers on the coffee table, and something leaps softly into my throat when they meet mine.

Suddenly, I'm aware of how small the room is. How wide his shoulders are, how much space his towering body takes up. How the shadows curling around him are whispering, and how his amber eyes seem to track my every move.

My breath hitches softly.

Absolutely and entirely mad.

Azriel's gaze flickers over my face. Then he moves.

Shadows whisper gently over my skin, his scent washes over me, and for a second, the feeling of his hands wrapped around my ribs and his lashes fluttering against my cheeks washes over me.

The shadowsinger pushes past me and his rough skin brushes my wrist; my heart leaps into my throat, and I forcefully drag myself away from the memory.

Azriel leans against the dining table, stretching out his long legs and fixing his eyes on me. Then he dips his head lightly. "Go on."

Something swells a little in my chest, and I let out a slow breath.

Alright.

So far, so good.

Now I just need to manage this conversation without accidentally saying something that makes him want to murder me after all.

"Well." I slowly lean back against the arm of the sofa, my gaze flickering over the Spymaster's face. "How long do we plan on doing this?"

Azriel's eyes pierce mine. Then one of his brows rises lightly.

"I don't know. What was your plan after kissing the first male in sight?"

I blink.

I knew it.

This is a terrible idea. A harebrained, stupid idea that has cost me my last bit of remaining dignity, and now he's going to use every second of this insane charade to torment me for the single most ridiculous thing I have ever done in my whole life -

The corner of Azriel's lips curves, just barely.

My heart leaps high against my ribs. Then my shoulders sag.

"Oh, hilarious." I huff and cross my arms.

The ghost of a crease forms in Azriel's cheek.

"Just a little." His deep voice sounds dry, and something lodges gently in my throat when I stare back at him.

In the warm light, his eyes look strangely amused.

I blink. Then I quickly look away.

"Well. It should at least be long enough that it seems serious enough to count. To convince Mor that I really am alright." I crunch my brows softly. "But also not serious or long enough that - when we eventually break up, she won't believe me that I'm not heartbroken."

Azriel nods lightly.

"It has to last until Solstice. That's three months from now." His deep voice tinges with something that sounds very close to irritation when he adds in a low mumble: "That should prove to Cass and Rhys I'm not incapable of lasting connection."

Something dips gently in my chest in surprise, and my gaze darts up and flickers over his face.

I can't help but wonder if he's irritated by their assumption - or if maybe, they're right.

"Have you never had a relationship?"

The question is out before I can stop it. Then my heart drops, and my eyes widen.

Azriel's dark gaze rises and settles on mine, and I nearly shrink.

Oh Mother.

I'm busted.

Quickly, I blurt: "I just - well, Cass and Rhys have known you for basically your whole life, and if you say they don't think you're capable of lasting connection, that implies that they've never seen you in one before, which in turn means you never had a relationship."

One of Azriel's brows quirks.

I blink.

I'm also dead.

For a second, we stare at each other over the coffee table. Then Azriel's voice vibrates through me, deep and slow and unbelievably dry.

"You do realise that just because they have never seen me in a relationship does not mean that I have never been in one."

I blink.

Right.

"Anyway." Feeling my cheeks heat and tearing my eyes away hastily, I clear my throat. "What else?"

Just for a second, Azriel's eyes flash with that same strangely amused twinkle.

"I need you to be there for as many social occasions as possible." He straightens lightly, voice slow and steady. "Whether it's family dinner, a formal gathering or something else. That way Rhys and Cass stay off my back, and it keeps - unwanted attention away from both of us." His gaze pierces mine, and my heart leaps gently.

"Alright." I hesitate for a second, my eyes flickering over his face.

I've been thinking about the next point since I've brought up ground rules.

It's the one I'm most certain will cause him to change his mind and decide that ripping me to shreds might actually be a joyful compensation for the situation I have dragged him into.

But I know that without it, this whole scheme will blow up in our faces.

So I breathe in and and out, blurting the dreaded words with the exhale.

"We need to spend time together apart from everyone else."

Azriel's eyes sharpen in the warm light.

Just for a second, a muscle in his jaw tightens.

My heart leaps against my ribs, and I shrug softly, offering him a hesitant smile. "They're going to get suspicious if we only make a point of showing up together when people are watching."

Azriel's gaze pierces mine. It's dark, and unwavering, and I stare back, bracing myself for the inevitable.

The shadowsinger blinks slowly. Then his voice brushes over my skin, low and steady.

"Any ideas?"

Something catches softly in my throat.

Azriel just watches me. Calm, waiting.

I blink and somehow manage to pull myself together.

"I don't know, say - sleep five nights a week together?" My heart leaps high, and my eyes widen a little as I add hastily: "I- I mean act like we do. Sleep - together." I blink. "Not actually sleep together — I mean, just sleep in the same room."

Somehow, I manage to shut myself up because I can make it worse. Something is thrumming against my ribs.

Azriel's eyes are fixed on mine.

This is a terrible idea.

Truly, awful, terrible idea -

"Four nights."

My thoughts of impending doom screech to an abrupt halt, and my gaze flies up.

Azriel crosses his arms, his gaze steady and calm. He sounds strangely unbothered given what he's currently agreeing to.

"We'll have to see how our assignments line up. It'll probably be easiest if we spend most nights here, because there's nobody around to be nosy." His brow quirks lightly. But he looks only mildly irritated; maybe even a little amused when he adds: "We are going to have to spend at least a few nights at the Townhouse now and then though, so nobody gets suspicious." His eyes pierce mine, glowing in the light. Then the corner of his lips curves, just barely. "I'll take the couch."

Something under my ribs swells.

Maybe we will actually be fine.

Well. Don't push it.

"Alright." Exhaling, I nod.

For a moment, I hesitate and chew on my lip. Then I blurt softly: "How far are we going?"

The shadowsinger lightly quirks an eyebrow. His eyes are swirling amber in the warm light.

"I mean -" My gaze flickers over his face, and my throat closes gently. "I just -"

Don't know how much I can handle without bursting.

Azriel's gaze shifts and narrows in. Something closes gently around my chest when it deepens until it seems to burn through my skin. Then his low voice brushes over my skin, slow and firm.

"I don't care what you think anybody expects." His eyes pierce mine, brows drawing together gently almost like he's willing me to listen very closely. "You decide how far you are willing to go."

Suddenly, there's a small, gentle lump in my throat.

"What about you?" My voice is soft when my eyes dart over his.

The planes of Azriel's face looks like carved from marble. But his eyes are calm and steady when he returns my gaze.

"I'll just follow your lead."

I exhale, and something swells harshly under my ribs when my shoulders sink.

"Alright." I nod slowly.

Azriel's eyes glide over my face like he's making sure I mean it. Then he nods back lightly.

"Well." I breathe in and raise my brows. "We are going to have to create some kind of - illusion of intimacy. I mean, I think we can agree on the fact that we won't have to be as bold as Cassian would be, I mean, neither of us is the type for that, so it would actually be more suspicious if we were too obvious -" I exhale again and raise my head. "How about we just agree to follow what feels - natural. In the moment."

Azriel's eyes pierce mine. Then he nods once, steady and calm.

"Alright." I nod back. "I guess we will figure the rest out along the way." My lips twitch as suddenly, something is fluttering against my ribs. It feels strangely giddy.

I raise my brows. "This feels secretive enough to warrant an oath to hold us to our agreement."

I'm almost sure I can see Azriel's lips twitch. Then he rises, and my breath catches gently when, amber eyes burning into mine, he holds out his hand.

Staring up at him, I swallow softly. Then I slowly push myself to my feet and reach out.

Warm, rough skin glides against mine when I slip my palm into Azriel's. Long, calloused fingers wrap around my hand, their grip firm but strangely gentle, and my heart leaps into my throat when Azriel shakes my hand, his eyes piercing mine.

I blink. Then I slowly slip my hand out of his and grin, softly and cheekily.

"Well, now that we've settled this - I'm calling it a night." I hesitate, my eyes flickering over his face. "Are you…"

Shadows curl around Azriel's wings when he returns my stare steadily. Then he nods lightly. "I'm staying."

My heart leaps gently against my ribs.

Azriel blinks, and one of his dark eyebrows twitches. "Mor would get suspicious if I slept at the Townhouse." His gaze pierces mine, and his deep voice is slow when he adds: "Besides. To make this believable, I have to smell like you."

Something catches gently in my throat.

For a moment, we stare at each other. The spots in Azriel's eyes are shifting like stars through the sky. His shadows whisper gently against the floorboards. Then I blink and send him a soft, cheeky smile and turn around.

When I reach the doorway to the bedroom, I hesitate. Then I exhale and look over my shoulder, grinning softly even as something plucks at my heart.

 “You must think I’m an idiot.”

Azriel's eyes rise to meet mine.

For a second, we stare at each other. His iris is glowing softly in the warm light. Then he blinks, and his slow, rough voice brushes down my spine. “I don’t.”

Something swells gently against my ribs.

Azriel raises a brow.

“I mean, I do. Sometimes." His eyes pierce mine. Then the corner of his lips curves, just barely. "When you decide to just kiss somebody without actually looking at them and then rope them into pretending you’re seeing each other for example –“

My heart leaps into my throat, and my lips part incredulously.

“You offered that!”

Azriel stares at me, and slowly, the ghost of a smirk forms on his lips.

Something swells in my throat until it feels hard to breathe.

“I hate you.” My mumble is soft and grouchy. But the thrum of my heart betrays me.

Azriel's eyes are twinkling in the light as they pierce mine. Then he blinks and bows his head lightly. "Goodnight."

My breath hitches gently. Then I nod back gently.

"Goodnight."

♡

It takes me hours to fall asleep.

The knowledge that Azriel is in my flat, my small, chaotic home, makes what happened tonight real.

But somewhere between the slow, strange realisation that I don't feel half as nervous as I probably should and the sky slowly turning a lighter shade of blue, I finally drift away.

When I wake up, the sun tickles my face and the flat is quiet.

For a moment, I just bury deeper into my blanket, blinking tiredly. I can hear the gentle buzz of the city from outside my window, soft voices streaming up from the cafe in the cobblestone alley below. A gentle breeze shifts the thin curtains, brushing over my skin.

I lay still for a while longer, feeling the drowsy feeling of sleep slowly leaving my limbs and the soft weight of the sheets wrapped around my body. Then, rubbing my eyes, I slowly sit up and slide off the mattress.

My bare feet are almost soundless on the wooden floorboards when I pad over to the door, stretching lightly.

Opening it, I raise my head, and my breath catches.

Azriel is leaning against the counter. Sunlight is streaming through the window, turning his eyes into liquid gold and shining through the thin membranes of his wings. His brows are crunched lightly against the gentle glow.

He's not wearing a shirt.

Suddenly, something is thrumming under my ribs.

Azriel turns his head, and shadows whisper softly against his wings.

I didn't think he would stay.

For a quiet moment, we look at each other from across the room, like the last bits of night are slowly washing away and what we are left with is the deal we struck in the middle of the night over the coffee table.

It feels less tense than I imagined. Calmer. More steady.

I blink. Then I smile, soft and careful.

"Hey."

Azriel's eyes pierce mine. Then he slowly slides a steaming cup over the counter.

His iris looks like amber from this angle.

A slow exhale leaves me, and I feel my shoulders sink when I send him a soft, cheeky grin.

"The service."

The ghost of a crease forms in Azriel's cheek, and his eyes drag over my face.

Rubbing my eyes, I start to make my way over into the kitchen. Azriel watches me get closer. His shoulders shift, tattoos rippling gently. He looks calm, relaxed.

Like somehow, he fits into the small embrace of my home, in with the worn floorboards and the old couch and the little corner of a kitchen.

I decide not to mull on that last thought.

With a sigh, I pull myself up onto the smooth wooden counter, rubbing my eyes softly before picking up the cup. The scent of herbs rises into my nose, and my lids flutter gently when I breathe it in softly.

Silence settles over the kitchen. I don't know if I'm simply still too tired to care, but it feels warm and comfortable, like the sunlight falling onto the floorboards.

Azriel is blinking into the warm rays. The golden sheen causes his skin to glow and dips his eyes into amber. A dark strand of hair is curving over his forehead.

Fighting the strange sudden urge to brush it back, I wrap my fingers around the warm cup and blink sleepily. Shadows whisper, soft and gentle, lapping at the floorboards.

After a few sips of tea, my body starts to wake.

Leaning my temple against the cabinet, I hesitate, my eyes on the side of Azriel's face. Then I start softly: "Are you still -"

His head turns, and I lose my thread of thought for a breath when his golden eyes meet mine. There are dark spots dancing in his iris.

I blink before mumbling gently: "Are we still doing this?"

Azriel's gaze pierces mine, steady and unreadable. Then his deep voice brushes over my skin, low and calm.

"Have you changed your mind?"

I shake my head softly from side to side.

The shadowsinger dips his head lightly, and one of his brows rises. "Then we're doing this."

I exhale and nod, my shoulders straightening gently.

"Alright."

Azriel's gaze pierces mine, and the dark spots in his iris shift, strangely akin to a twinkle.

A rapid, loud knock against the front door makes me jump, nearly spilling my tea.

"What the -"

The door flies open before I can even finish my sentence, and a tall blonde figure sweeps over the threshold.

"I cannot believe you -"

My heart leaps high.

Mor's gaze finds mine. She stops abruptly, and my breath gets stuck in my throat.

For a second, the Blonde looks stunned. Her lips are parted lightly, brows raised. Her gaze slowly drags back and forth between me and the male beside me.

Azriel's eyebrows quirks.

Quickly, I slide off the counter. My feet hit the ground, and Mor slowly blinks.

"Alright… Finding both of you here is admittedly not what I expected, though, looking back, an obvious assumption… but at least this way I don't have to have this conversation twice." She clears her throat and straightens, raising her brows. "What do you two have to say for yourselves?"

I blink and swallow. Then I smile sheepishly. "Tea?"

Mor narrows her eyes.

"Nice try. I might come back to that in a second. Now spill it. What is this, why don't I know about it, how long has this been going on?!"

My heart leaps against my throat, and my mind blanks.

Brilliant.

All this talk yesterday and we really forgot the simple point of coming up with a story.

Bollocks.

Somewhere behind me, Azriel huffs.

"It's none of your business." His deep voice sounds lazy and a little dry.

Mor crunches her brows like he's just made the most preposterous statement and snorts.

"I'm both of your best friend. Of course it is my business!"

My shoulders stiffen.

We really should have thought about this. This is bad. This is really, really -

There's a shift in the air behind me. Then something brushes against my shoulder.

Shadows whisper against my ankles, and my breath catches when a rough palm presses against my lower back in a featherlight, steadying touch for nothing but a second.

Mor's eyes narrow in. I feel myself sink back almost instinctively, into the towering presence behind me, trying to suppress the urge to wince as I wait for her to call our bluff -

I don't know what Mor sees. But the Blonde exhales and rolls her eyes dramatically.

"Fine... Just tell me how it happened!" Her eyes find mine again, starting to twinkle, and my heart tumbles against my ribs.

"I don't know." I lightly raise my shoulders, smiling weakly. "It just - did."

Well, at least that's not a lie.

Mor huffs and crosses her arms. But her lips curve slowly, and I risk a quick glance over my shoulder.

My heart leaps into my throat.

Azriel is so close that his chest lightly brushes against my shoulder. His wings are looming, relaxed against his back, his hand resting on the counter behind me, just close enough I can feel the tips of his fingers graze my hip.

It's not flashy. No show of closeness.

He's just there. Towering over me, quiet, calm. Steadying. Like it's natural for him to be right where he is now, close enough that I can feel his breath against my hair and his presence in my back.

It feels real.

Blinking, I tear my eyes away again and meet Mor's. She's still staring at us, her eyes narrowed. But that strange twinkle is slowly spreading through her iris. Then she huffs.

"Fine. Be secretive." Her voice sounds almost grudgingly amused when she adds in a mumble: "It suits you."

Azriel's lips twitch.

Exhaling dramatically, Mor raises her hands. "Alright, I won't ask." Her eyes are twinkling with mischief when they meet mine. "But you owe me breakfast for not telling me."

Something like relief swells under my ribs, and I exhale. "Fair."

Mor beams.

"Well, then; get dressed, I'm not taking you out like this!" She raises her brows at Azriel. "I'd say you're welcome to join, but knowing you, you've got somewhere to be."

I look up over my shoulder, and Azriel looks down at me. His eyes are piercing, steady.

My heart leaps gently at the silent question in his gaze, and I send him a soft nod.

Azriel's lips curve just the slightest bit. Then he says, gaze never leaving mine: "Rhys is waiting for me."

I blink, feeling my brows crunch gently when my gaze flickers over his face.

Somewhere at the back of my mind, I wonder if it's the truth. And if it is - why he stuck around instead of leaving.

Mor pointedly clears her throat.

My heart leaps against my ribs, and quickly, I tear my eyes away from Azriel's.

The Blonde grins, then she raises her brows at the Spymaster. "Alright, well, off you go then."

The shadowsinger huffs, then he pushes off the counter, and my breath catches when his chest presses lightly against my shoulder.

"I'll see you later." His deep voice brushes over my skin, low and quiet like the words are meant to seem only for me. My eyes rise to meet his, and Azriel's gaze pierces mine, calm and steady.

Something swells gently against my ribs, and I nod lightly.

Rough skin brushes my hand. My breath catches in my throat, and for just a heartbeat, Azriel's scarred fingers slide between mine, his thumb brushing over my knuckles. Then his hand slips away, and he is swallowed by shadows.

part I part II

@azrielshadows1nger @waytoomanyteenagefeels @secretlyhers

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[strawbairicake]

hallo Lia, before i say anything else i think i should apologize for taking so long to submit a request for your event—i kept either forgetting or endlessly second-guessing any draft of an ask i came up with because i didn’t want to end up annoying you, i hope you can forgive me :((

since it’s so late i completely understand if you don’t want to write this (especially if you aren’t interested in the idea), but would it be ok for me to request aventurine and a merman/merfolk au? i think it would be interesting to see him attempt (keyword: attempt) to court a human reader, but feel free to change the concept however you like ! thank you in advance, have a great day ♡

part of your world -aventurine x reader (mermaid/merfolk au!)

synopsis: the cute guy that mysteriously came ashore the beach is really intriguing, isn’t he?

warnings: none, it’s pure fluff! might be ooc though, apologies for that!

word count: 498

author’s note: yes the title was from the song from the little mermaid. no, i don’t have any regrets or better title names. anyway, thank you for requesting, Ruu! please don’t hesitate to come say hello or drop a request in my inbox! no beta, we die like my hopes n’ dreams /lh! would love to hear more from you! hopefully this idea fits (and maybe exceeds) your expectations; hope you enjoy! <3

book n’ dash event

tagging: @cmiru

acquiring human legs after having a mermaid tail all your life is quite the flex. that’s what Aventurine thought anyway. he had just washed up to shore when you came running over to him, in quite the panic.

“oh my gosh, are you okay? where did you come from?” you asked as you approached him. and Aventurine felt like he had come down with an ailment: he couldn’t speak, think, move (not that he tried any of these things). he was just frozen. god you were so pretty, did you know that?

“washed… up,” Aventurine replies, somewhat stunned at his lack of being able to form words. you nod, seemingly understanding what he said (you didn’t understand) and trying to give him the benefit of the doubt. you don’t want to overwhelm him, either.

“where are you from?” you asked after a few minutes of silence.

“the ocean. why?”

“okay… how did you get here, friend?” you asked.

friend… such a safe and comforting word. he knows you didn’t slip the word out intentionally. it was a speaking before thinking moment but you didn’t seem to regret or take back the word. 

“i… don’t know. i’m just… here.” he replies. you nod again. 

“i’m (name), nice to meet you. come with me, I’ll help you get on your feet. two more questions, can you understand what i’m saying? and what's your name?” 

“I’m Aventurine, and i can understand you well.”

satisfied with his answer, you help him off the sandy beach, giving him a towel you were carrying earlier. you help him wrap it around his waist and start walking to your apartment, not far from the beach luckily. you both make the short trek back to your home and you let him settle in before overwhelming him with more questions and activities for you to do.

“once you’re comfortable and dressed, we’re going to go to the mall and get you some clothes, okay?” 

“sure, thank you.” 

And so you were off. you headed to the mall, and got to the clothing store for your new friend. you let him pick out whatever he wanted. but before you both left the store, a small pearl bracelet caught his eye. 

“(Name), look,” Aventurine points to the bracelet.

“what’s wrong?” you ask as you see where his finger’s pointing, “oh, the bracelet? we can get it!” and as the nice clerk gets it out of the display and grabs it for you. you check out and head back to your apartment.

“what’s with the interest in the bracelet?” you asked him after he sat down on your couch.

“it’s a sign of loyalty and love in the mermaid language. you’ve also been kind to me.”

your breath hitched, and you gulp a bit nervously, “and?” 

“and even though we’ve just met, i want you to have it.” he says as he pushes the box to you. you think this cute mermaid-turned human is sticking around for a while longer.

©2025 strawbairicake. do not repost, copy, translate, modify, or use for AI.

[colddelusionhideout]

Batman AU Idea - Never Adopted

This idea lives in my head rent-free. I'm seen some fics use this concept, but I would love to see a fully-fleshed out in-depth fic. (And if you've read one, please share!)

Essentially, Bruce's parents never died in that alleyway when he was a kid, and he got to grow up like any (rich, spoiled) kid! (Sidenote but it'd be interesting to explore whether he came out to be as rich, spoiled, and vapid as Brucie presents himself as, or if he would've still been the same but less traumatized if he grew up with his parents. For the purposes of this idea though, it'd be more fun if he turned out spoiled.)

There would be no Batman, so Gotham would be . . . Gotham (but isn't it always? - also, Joker where?). Dick wouldn't have been adopted, so hello social services (and juvie)! Jason would also still be out struggling in the streets. Tim could be a toss-up, cause he could either still have his parents and just be neglected at home, or his parents (mom? the Tim parent canon always confused me) would be dead and he would be CEO of the industries and running it like the boss he is.

Of course, Damian would still exist because he had a fling with Talia (because of his superior genetics of course), but she would've hated Bruce and never let Damian meet him.

Dick likely would've still become a police officer OR (and I've seen a few fics use this idea), he would've become some kind of social worker. Jason, my poor boy, would likely be stuck as a underling in some criminal empire, unable to get clean. Tim would be Tim, but I think he would've turned out way more shy and less confident due to being neglected and growing up alone. ALSO, he does not have Robin to look up to anymore. Cass . . . well she's either still struggling as a weapon or somehow escaped (either another superhero found her or maybe she could have met one of the other kids and gotten convinced?)

Justice League happens way later than it would've with Bruce, and it's not developed at all because they do not have a multi-millionaire to funnel expenses into it.

It would also be a fun idea if the kids somehow all met each other in Gotham and bonded together. Maybe there's a big bad enemy or something is after one of them and the rest would be trying to help. I do feel like Dick and Jason would likely know each other - probably met from Jason being arrested or Dick happening upon Jason as a kid. Tim and Bruce probably also know each other, but while Bruce treats him like some random kid, Tim could look up to him? (Haha, traumatized neglected boy latches on to the first person who shows him attention . . .) And Bruce would know Damian exists, but as every awful rich person ever, would refuse to acknowledge he exists (Talia is only happy to let him since she has an heir to raise). Maybe they could meet by Damian getting curious and sneaking out at 8 years (or maybe older?) to meet this apparent fool of a father he has, and instead he gets: Dick.

All this to say that I NEED A FIC where dimension travel shenanigans occur and the canon batfamily (or the canon that exists in my mind where they all care about each other and take care of each other cause family) meets their universes' counterparts and everyone is shocked.

AU Jason would especially be fun to see cause he would DEFINITELY still hate rich people and be like "WHAT DO YOU MEAN I GOT ADOPTED BY A MILLIONARE??? WHAT DO YOU MEAN HES MY DAD - Wait, WHAT?!?! Bruce Wayne?? That IDIOT? WHAT DO YOU MEAN HES NOT THAT BAD HAVE YOU MET HIM??!?!?!"

Anyways, I need someone to write this stat.

[tawked]

I think ultimately my beef with Chris Claremont is that he will discuss bigotry at length but seems not to understand how many forms of bigotry are manufactured on a societal level.

Take "God Loves Man Kills," which is kind of the thesis work for the concept of "X-Men as minorities" under Claremont imo. I think it's fine to point at fiends like Pat Robinson and so on as a vector for increasing bigoted beliefs in society, sure. That's very accurate.

I uh, have never met a bigoted Christian who functions in precisely the same way as William Stryker, and bud believe me I have met bigoted Christians, but fine. As a broad "fuck this kind of dude" thing I think it works and starts conversations for a lot of young boys reading these comics at the time, mission accomplished.

My issue is, the same text presents the cops as ranging from indifferent and "just doing their job" to heroic because one of them shoots Pat Robinson. There's a rejection of the concept that the cops are themselves agents of bigotry in society, or even susceptible to bigotry. All of the cops we see talk shit about Pat Robinson. Why? I believe it's because Claremont genuinely believes in liberal societal myths that if all is functioning smoothly, then we are in fact equal. In Claremont's X-Men, racism is an aberration from the norm brought out by individual bad actors and their stupid sheeple followers. It's like how you see liberals attempt to understand the Daily Wire or Tucker Carlson or whatever by insisting it's just grifters and nameless faceless stupes who don't exist in the way you or I do, and sans Tucker would perhaps not be racist. They understand racists as amorphous masses, and not people created by complex systemic and cultural realities that can be addressed, is my point.

And that's just not my worldview man. So reading a text about racism that fully embraces this concept of racism feels naive and, if I'm being really honest, a little embarrassing.

I think that it's also impossible to really ignore that this text does contain an ambiguously brown rape gang. The only character with a voice uses Spanish phrases, and his mate is wearing a Sikh dastar (it was also a time when "Sikh" and "Muslim" were, hilariously, not distinct in the minds of most white Brits and Americans lol). These characters attempt to rape Kitty Pryde, and are then all killed by the child-murdering anti-mutant extremist who wants to kill Kitty Pryde. What is going on here, and what is Chris Claremont unintentionally - or perhaps intentionally - saying about the actual nature of bigotry? That sure, some people in society are A Problem, but it's not these nice mutants who all live in a mansion under the watchful eye of a benevolent white billionaire? That racists feel justified because hey, they're not sending their best, they're not sending people like you and me, they're sending rapists?

I don't know.

The thing is, in my opinion, Claremont seems unaware or uninterested in many flavours of history. He is, obviously, very aware of and responds often to Nazi antisemitism, using Nazism as some a kind of warning as to where society might be headed if we're not careful with the slurs. Fine.

He also has a range of Native American characters lol. Oop! The thing is, Native American history consistently debunks the entire concept of normative peace and tolerance vs. individual bad actors and mass hysteria. In fact, the concept of tribalism, that is the idea that people innately react with hate and hostility to folks what look and live different, is consistently used to deny the extreme intentional nature of colonialist genocides.

Frustratingly, Claremont doesn't engage with Native American or colonialist history beyond this football teams concept. In fact, Claremont solves this issue by just... not talking about it much at all.

Now, perhaps something is eventually said with Dani Moonstar or someone, sure, but I simply did not read enough to reach that point. Which is a problem, because I read 16/18 volumes of the Masterworks Uncanny re-issues (meeting Mickey Twoyoungmen and my favourite, Forge), and 4/8 of the New Mutants. So, regardless of whether Claremont chooses to get around to it sooner or later, it's certainly not frontloaded like the presence of the characters is.

Frankly, at one point, Claremont puts pro-colonialist words in Dani Moonstar's mouth, as if she simply would not have a more complex inner world or reaction to seeing colonialist violence.

Claremont will have his Indigenous characters yell "hoka hey" in direct reference not to Chief Crazy Horse, but to cowboy movies about Chief Crazy Horse. He will not sit with the concept of colonialism as a manufacturer of racism in a way that distinguishes that racism from, say, a Klansman lighting a cross. Dani just hates white people, 'cause teams. They play for the Bulls and she's a Celtic.

To demonstrate what I mean by not giving equal weight to history:

In her introduction, Dani Moonstar is told she's going to be relocated to live with Charles Xavier, a white billionaire. She screams no, fuck that, white people are "the enemy" and I'm not going to live with one.

Claremont does not couch this in a discussion of how for generations the United States has weaponized child protective services and similar state entities against Cheyenne and other Indigenous people. Relocating Native American children into residential schools and white households is not a neutral subject, or something one can explore with a "two football teams" idea of racism. There's history of this as a tool of colonialist violence and Dani, often politically aware of colonialist violence (see: her grandpa's death) is not written to articulate this sentiment in a way the reader can access.

Thus, Dani's resistance to being forced to live in a rich white man's home is couched in some kind of strange "racist black guy" concept. She never deconstructs this further, and is characterized as a bit paranoid and traumatized, sure, but not correct.

A more informed audience may fill in that blank if they want to. Will an ignorant reader be able to do the same?

Racism has complex roots.

When black historians discuss redlining as "going all the way back to the plantation," that's what they're getting at. White supremacist cultural practices exist in layers of beliefs built upon colonialist attitudes that began on day one and persist, mutating through generations to fit new realities and circumstances, but never deconstructing the core.

When Columbus met the Taino, the Arawak and the Carib people, and he infantilised (and enslaved) the Taino, but used the Arawak as a scapegoat to claim a "caniba" nature of the Carib people. He was not responding honestly to observation, and this was not a "egad! brown skin? verily these fiends play for Detroit Pistons and I, the noble Denver Nuggets!" situation.

This bitch wanted fuckin money and was enacting older, Crusades-era concepts of Christian dominionism (see how history cycles work?) So, he was marketing this new uncolonized land to his investors as having slaves, and dangerous locals who he characterized as so savage they could not be Christianized and thus had to be killed, justifying further investment of resources.

It wasn't

ah! different people! my urge to kill... EXPLODING!! NNNGHGN

Listen, I like the X-Men fans that I've met. It's one of the nicest fandoms on tumblr and the people in it are broadly cool, educated and hot with excellent pecs.

However, and I do mean this with love, I bet not a single fuckin fan from when Claremont's books were on the shelves found it odd that Storm XMen, a Kenyan living in Kenya in the 1970s, was somehow untouched by colonialism or decolonialist concepts, during Kenya's decolonisation era.

The region was forcibly Christianized by the British starting in the 1890s, or debatably earlier if we count missionary efforts, and yet Storm XMen lives in this weird little untouched pristine village where they worship her as a goddess.

The 1970s audience probably just accepted this because 1. she controls the weather, so obviously right, and 2. they're like dumb black African villagers or something so they probably worship all kinds of shit.

An opportunity for education was, in my honest opinion, wasted.

And it fucks me into a coma leaving my asshole wet and gaping because I see older fans insisting that it's just "of its time." man! man!!

the time of Black Panthers, feminists, queer and disabled liberation marches, all of these anti-bigotry activist causes out in the street causing a ruckus!!

Roy Thomas' ASS, I mean Roy Thomas' All Star Squadron, contained a clumsy but somewhat informed expression of the systemic causes of American anti-Japanese racism during WWII. It was bad, yes, but at least Thomas was able to explore the concept that most white Americans didn't even know where Japan was beforehand.

Bro! He explores how American culture created arbitrary and fucked distinctions of "good Japanese" vs. "bad Japanese" based primarily on immigration status and other mechanisms weaponized against this marginalized demographic. He was out there dropping terms like issei and nisei, which sure yes whatever that's diet shit for historians, but I have simply never seen other American media care enough to acknowledge how white supremacy genuinely did create complex wedges in Japanese-American society in the 1940s.

There's even a moment early in the run where a white bloke articulates that China and Japan are like even forces and thus removes the Sino-Japanese War from its colonialist character lol. Although I believe this is unintentional on Thomas' part, veeery funny and apt considering the overall vibe and the era Thomas is discussing. That kind of thing coupled with anti-Asian racism is why the west never intervened before the creation of Manchukuo.

It's bad! It's ahistorical and frustrating! It contains a "Heroic Jap" narrative meant to debunk the concept of absolutist racism!

But it demonstrates an adjacent of-era comic series that is able to engage with racism as a systemic and manufactured concept at a level that Claremont can't or won't or whatever.

And another thing, Claremont's use of schizophrenia -

[penskecar]

i havent posted art in like a week but TRUUUUUUUST im not dead... i have art... its just not done...

[mttonex]

DELTARUNE REDRAWS FROM THE NEW NEWSLETTER!!!!!!

(HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY UNDERTALE <3)

[fidenciocryptidcreechur]

Concept i wanna draw: thinking about how evidently the eel twins know full well how strong Azul is and also how octopi slap/punch fish when they're annoyed. Imagining idia and Azul having game night and Idia is being a sore winner and being annoying with his bragging and teasing. Azul gets annoyed and smacks idia except he accidentally uses the same amount of force he normally uses for the twins when they're being overly annoying and Idia fucking crumples like a wet napkin

i have zero energy to draw this at the moment of post but i don't wanna just let this concept fade into my mental ether, hoping to manifest the energy to draw this by putting it into a post or manifest the art.

Either way i just so clearly see idia being a lil shit and azul swatting at him in annoyance and Idia either gets folded like a lawn chair or gets sent flying and azul panicking cause he forgot how twiggy idia is and the only people he's used to having to swat at in annoyance are the twins who are made of tougher stuff and would most certainly NOT be deterred by an idia appropriate swat

[crystallizsch]

and at last I see the light..... it's like the sky is new

it's warm and real and bright and the world has somehow shifted

all at once, everything is different... now that i see 𝔂𝓾𝓾

(credits to @/fell-e for the brush i used for the flowers 👁️👁️)

[artuurle]

(AU)

What if you died and something divine loved you so much it couldn't cope with that fact? What if they tried bringing you back but the result was wrong?

More doodles + rambles below:

Now What if what came back was just off. Looks at the divine without the memories that went back decades. It looks, behaves and works in a way just off enough in a way to make the god unable to look at it. it's not you. it's not. it can't be.

.... but what if what got pulled back was still you, but its- YOU'RE wrong and broken in ways you cant understand anymore.

The apocalypse draws closer and closer and you don't know why every day that passes you seem to be falling more and more apart too. The god is gone. You are alone.

....Anyway yeah i fucked up a perfectly normal Lovestory Au. i gave it anxiety is what i did. sorry for horrid typing in 2nd person trying to explain stuff im bad at explaining <3 i draw, not write for a reason lol.

[wateririri]

Idk why you tagged only me but okay man

1. I like drawing and how I make art right now (artstyle, etc) -- I'm glad I'm being more creative with how I do things I suppose?? Idk if they're the most special but I'm happy with them.

2. I like that I'm alive right now even if my psyche tears itself apart and sews itself back together sometimes. I have to thank other people for that.

3. I love my friends!! They're partially the reason why I'm alive right now and also not a secluded loner lol, I wouldn't be here if it weren't for those lil guys and I owe them. I'd die for my friends yk if anything ever happened <3

4. I like how I write and create concepts even though I have no idea what goes on in my head sometimes while in the process of doing so. I like it when people compliment them! I'm still working on actually internalizing the praise though, but I still enjoy the validation I get because sometimes I just don't know if it's good or not.

5. I LOVE MY SON TARU LOOK AT HIM LOOK AT HIMMMMMMM MY BABU HES SO COOL AND PRETTY AND COOL AND SIGMA I'M SO ARGHHHH

Holds him gently

I don't have... Followers😭 @sunspurr boom👅✌️💥 I'm never posting again after this prolly

Firstly, when you get this, you have to answer with 5 things you like about yourself, publicly. Then, send this ask to 10 of your favourite followers (non-negotiable, positivity is cool).

sure! Thank you!

I'm very good at making things up, like languages, rhymes, songs, story's, a lot of creative things

When I stress I pick on the crust on my arms, constantly making it worse again :(

When I have bad mood days™, I can't listen to a lot of Musik bc it makes me on edge

I my personality is based a lot on my mood and other ppl around me, making me a bit childish at times

I'm vegetarian

@hauntedmoontimetravel, @serpentine-starlight

@littlejumpingjoan, @vanitythevantropist

@shortlikerdj @thelizardburt @unnamed-enby

@elizer-the-felon @frooglet @amyethereall

[crow-caller]

I really do think looking at bad writing is one of the best ways to learn about writing in general, especially for beginners.

the thing is, writing in general is highly subjective- a good sentence will be good in different ways to different people, or not impress someone at all.

a bad sentence? most people can spot bad sentences easy, especially if it is presented to them as 'here's an example of a bad sentence, let's unpack why.'

bad writing can also be very funny, which I think is again often more engaging than 'here's a work of literary genius go analyze it'. Like here's some bad writing from lightlark3:

The moment it was out of Horus’s grip, his body became bones. The flesh turned to ash. He became a corpse.

it's dumb as hell, but I think could foster a solid discussion when you ask 'why? what is the author intending to say? what about it makes it feel 'clunky'? How would you write the same idea?'

[grif-hawaiian-rolls]

You're my dad! Boogie woogie woogie

Species swap au, anyone?

Sangheili Tucker and human Junior

[himbohysterectomy]

clinical trial (game) spoilers

firstly before anyone gets mad at me for policing their enjoyment/engagement with a piece of media this is NOT the intention here, do whatever you want forever and have fun ok? keep doing what you're doing so long as you aren't hurting anybody.

Also this is mostly about fanart cause I don't really read fic so idk how applicable it is over there but it still might be, idk.

_

I have noticed an overwhelming amount of sappy flowery fanart of lee and angel from clinical trial just being cute and lovey and it is strange to me. it feels to me like glossing over the actually interesting substance of the game in favour of generic wholesome content instead.

like i 100% understand the appeal stemming from that desire to be wanted and desired so intensely or even obsessively as well as that desire to feel protected by someone, and in turn wanting it to end up being healthy and wholesome and working out for the both of them. but I feel like what that ends up with in most of the fanart i see is just like. a normal ass couple?

of course we are set up to see the characters and their interactions as very cute and wholesome. and they are! it works wonderfully for setting up that gut-punch of a twist towards the end of the game. they spend a very long time building up to it and it works very well and is well worth the wait.

but like. hello. did we all forget the horror elements of this cute little horror game?

lee is obsessed with angel. he kept angels gum. angels blood. angels hair (which btw, when/where did he acquire that much hair?? lol). he made a doll of angel (which to be fair to him when you actually hear him out it is probably the most reasonable and wholesome part of that whole shrine). he for sure fucked that jacket. he took multiple pictures of angel out and about, meaning that be absolutely, undoubtedly stalked angel. he killed for angel and did not regret it one bit even when he was confronted about it.

him keeping the gum from the week 2 appointment means that at the very latest he became obsessed with angel the second time that they ever saw each other. we have no idea how long he was stalking angel for.

there is zero chance in my mind that their relationship would be healthy and wholesome, at least not all the time. even if they work on shit together and lee actually seeks therapy they're not gonna just... fix each other with the power of love.

frankly lee is unwell and does not know how to form healthy relationships. he could mask that side of himself pretty well during their appointments but even still not perfectly. if they move in together it's going to be a lot more difficult to keep himself in check all of the time and not be Kinda Weird about angel sometimes. there were already some red flags when they only saw each other once a week.

ultimately, it isn't that i want people to stop drawing wholesome and sweet accept ending fanart of clinical trial. of course not!

what i'm getting at is that i wanna see more freak shit!!! get fucky with it!!! draw them being obsessive and unhealthy! if you're gonna fantasize about this fucked up couple at least do it the justice of depicting it in the way that it was set up to be sometimes! they didn't take the time to set up that wonderful twist for it to just be ignored!!

draw lee struggling to not be obsessive or possessive or overprotective! draw lee secretly still keeping things that angel throws away, or stealing small things that he thinks angel wont miss! draw angel having to keep him in check and scolding him like a dog!

give that man his red flags back or so help me god!!! they're what make him interesting as a character - without them he's just Some Guy.

the art that actually got me to play clinical trial was this wonderful piece by @ glimfag/hecctwo. it is absolutely amazing and symbolic and perfect. it leans into the idea of angel also being kind of a freak like that, and why not!! in the accept ending angel knows everything that lee did and is capable of and chooses to be with him regardless.

maybe angel's kinda into it!! maybe angel's drawn to this idea of being the prey of a stalker! maybe angel wants a man that can be kept on a leash! maybe angel likes being the center of his whole universe because angel likes to have that power over him, especially after what angel has been through! maybe angel wants a guard dog! maybe angel likes knowing that he would absolutely kill again if angel asked him to!!

by all means keep drawing wholesome shit all day long but please don't shy away from showing the unhealthy side of their relationship, especially on lee's end! i promise that you're allowed to enjoy "problematic" things - you're capable of critical thought, so have fun with it!!!!!

[atlantablack]

Maglor who stayed in Middle Earth all the way through till present day, or close to it, and then for whatever reason finally ends up going back to Valinor, but he has enthusiastically picked up all the modern day curses and slang and sometimes when he talks he's so completely incomprehensible to his family that they're not sure if they want to cry or hit him

aka: Maglor comes back to Valinor and instead of getting a traumatized son/brother back like the expected, they find that Maglor did in fact get over his shit eventually but was just having a blast becoming an agent of chaos and now he's brought all that back with him <3

[dizzybizz]

some doodles