#The Kids Are Alright AU

[abellarts]

Unfortunate Meeting pt4

[ID: Page 4 of the comic “Unfortunate Meeting” set in The Kids are Alright AU.

The voice is revealed to be Gerry who’s now facing the group while leaning on his shovel, holding his other hand up in a peace sign while his face has a bored expression. He says “Gerard Keay, classmate of Jon’s. You ok there guy-with-the-extra-hat?” Martin replies back “I-I’m ok...” with him represented as a chibi head. Gerry continues “Noice. I asked Jon to help me with an art project. We had to make some sort of statement piece and decided on something against the censorship of knowledge.”

Gerry with a smug expression at the crew, who are silhouettes at a distance, says “Talked to Jon and Agnes about a concept. Boom.  Here we are.” Sasha, represented by a chibi head, asks “So you...committed arson?”

The next panel features two books against bright orange flame. The title of one book reads “[Redacted]” and the other “[Blank]” both in all caps. The text over it says “The books we burned signify all censored knowledge, medical, historical, cultural, etc. throughout history.”

There’s a close-up shot of the mound of dirt. Chibi head Gerry explains “Their ashes which we buried in an unmarked grave in a secluded area of the woods represent the death of the knowledge they hold. Unmarked, unknown, lost even if found.” Underneath, chibi heads Agnes and Jon, both with tired expressions, simultaneously think in a thought bubble “That’s a convoluted lie.” 

./.End ID]

I took the hint that Gerry was an artist in canon and never let go. I think he’d be good at making stuff up or finding deeper meanings in this and that. It’s what I do sometimes. In fact, that’s how I also came up with Gerry’s explanation. I didn’t know how they’d justify the book burning so I made stuff up :’)

[First || <- Prev || Next->]  

[nocofamilyau]

i love your AU soo much, and i wanted to ask how cody and noah felt love for each other and how their conversation like when they wanted to adopted a child. (mike)😊‼️

well that first bits been done, so..

Being around Noah so much and getting so used to his constant sarcasm, it can get pretty hard to tell if he's actually being serious sometimes...

(and I guess after talking about it for a while they both went 'fuck it' and went along with doing it. I mean, it was just one kid after all, right?)

[spacedace]

Got inspired by the below tiktok and the idea of the Rogues killing the Joker in revenge for Jason instead of Bruce and had to write about it.

Here, have probably way too many words (with more to come most likely, this really won't leave me alone) of the Rogue's feelings about Jason's death at the Joker's hands and everything that followed.

(also I know the timeline is a bit screwy, shhh just go with it, we're going on vibes with this one lol)

-

Childhood was not held universally sacred in the dark streets of Gotham.

The city was hard and cruel and she didn’t care about the ages of those that were ground up and spit out in her oily black heart.

A kid could slit your throat as easy as a man grown in a place like their fine city, maybe easier even for those who still fell for the ideal of children being incapable of anything but innocence and sweetness. Children learned from the world around them though, they learned from the savagery that filled their world, the hard scrabble desperate attempts to survive. They learned what dark corners to avoid, which ones were safer to skitter down.

It didn’t mean there weren’t still some rules of decency to be honored though.

Most folks, even those in the circle of the Rogues, largely left kids out of the equation. Crossfire happened of course, hitting busy city centers always meant some kind of collateral. But there wasn’t much that they got out of purposefully hurting kids outside a black mark on their name in most levels of the grungy underbelly of the city and one hell of a big target on their back. Both from the Bat and those criminals in the dark with them that took offense to those kinds of things. They were crooks, but with few exceptions they weren’t complete monsters.

Robin had always held an interesting place in their grungy little ecosystem. Anything to do with the Bat was generally ruled as gloves-off, do what you do without hesitation. And Robin - both of ‘em - had no problem hitting hard and being ruthless. The first one in particular had a feral sort of rage to him that was a terrifying thing to be on the business end of.

But they were still kids.

Defending yourself from any kid swinging on you was fair game, a person had the right to defend themselves. Grabbing up Robin to hold hostage or bait Gotham’s local cryptid, that was all fine and dandy. You could even get away with roughing the kid up a little here and there, so long as you made sure not to go too far and always kept hits to where the kid’s armor was the thickest. No hard and fast written rules, mind, but general rules of thumbs. Lines indistinct due to the shaky ground a child dancing through the night as a vigilante left all of them on, but ones clear enough that you knew when you were at risk of going too far.

Besides, the Robins were good kids. Fucking feral little shits, of course, able to leave you bleeding just as easy from a kick as they were a sharp word. But good kids. Even most the Rogues in the Gallery liked em. It was hard not to be at least a little fond of a gutsy little punk like that.

Though they were all maybe a tad less nervous around Robin II than they were the original.

Robin I had a lot of anger burning in him, a lot of anger in him, but he was still a cheerful boy with a bright attitude that was refreshing in a world so bleak and dark as the one they all lived in. It was up in the air which was scarier about the kid: The smiled he gave when he was about to give a hands on demonstration about how much force a tiny ten year old could put into a kick when they had half a dozen spins shoved into a flip to wind up to 80 miles an hour, or the flash of his teeth when he was demonstrating the knife sharp brilliance of his belief that Batman was only as frightening as Robin was hopeful.

They weren’t sure if he realized that sometimes they felt a helluva lot more hope at the sight of the Bat when the little bird was putting the hurt on them, or if he’d simply folded that fact neatly into his core philosophy without issue.

Robin II on the other hand had this kind of quiet shyness to him - even as he was shouting the most inventive swears ever heard by human ear at someone while he kicked them in the balls hard enough to make ‘em see not just the face of their own god but a few dozen besides. He was just as unhinged as the Robin before him - seemed to be a requirement for the job really - but there was a distinct different in how the two birds flitted about the darkened skyline of the city. Where the first Robin’s smile was as much danger as it was dazzle, a fanged declaration of victory against the dark, Robin II’s was a sunny, stubborn declaration of perseverance. Kid was sassy and smart, and never - ever - flinched away from extending a hand to those he thought in need of it.

Even if the folks he offered that hand to were in the middle of an attack on some fancy Gala or Wayne Enterprises or whatever target of the week it was. Even knowing the offered hand was likely to be slapped away and followed by a right hook. Kid still always tried.

They all knew why.

The Bat was big on offering chances, on rehabilitation rather than damnation. Some of Robin II being the way he was came from the broody cryptid he followed around. But Batman couldn’t claim to be the sole reason for Robin II being the way he was, couldn’t even pretend to be the cause of most of it. Nah, they knew why the little bird was the way he was.

That unmistakable thick accent. That frame that was always a little too thin even as he got older and stronger. That unshakable, headstrong spirit.

Robin II was an Alley Kid.

A true child of Gotham.

Her polluted waters in his veins. Her smoggy air in his lungs. Her shadows clinging to his edges less like a beast looking to swallow a small bird up and more like a protective mother hiding her hatchling. He understood the world most of them came from. The one they all lived in. Knew it in a way anyone who hadn’t been swallowed up by the dark never really could.

Everyone had their favorite, but even those that claimed the first Robin as theirs couldn’t deny that Robin II was someone to be respected. Nor could they deny a fondness for the chain smoking, classic lit referencing, perpetually baby-faced little shit. They’d all had knock out drag out fights with the kid and knew how fucking unhinged the puny motherfucker could be in a fight, but he always tempered it with offers of resources, of a listening ear, of understanding.

He visited them after they’d been arrested sometimes. In Arkham, or Blackgate or wherever else they’d been locked up in after being stopped by the Dynamic Duo. The little bird would make the rounds whenever he had a broken wing or was stuck waiting as the Bat interrogated someone else or for any other reason he wasn’t out flitting about the city skyline at night. He’d bring cookies or snacks and even cigarettes from his own secret stash on the rare occasion, mask unable to hide the furtive glances around to check for the living shadow that was the disapproving Bat.

The Rogues and their Goons always had a soft spot for the Robins. And Robin II made it especially easy to let fondness bleed out of them from time to time. He was a good kid.

But childhood was not held universally sacred in the dark streets of Gotham.

Bad things happened to good kids all the time.

And some of the monsters that lurked in the city’s darkest shadows took the black mark of a kid killer as a point of pride.

Robin II disappeared one day. Just after that piece of shit Garzonas took the fast way down from the top of a tall building. There were a lot of Rogues with doctoral degrees to their names but even those Goons that dropped out of school before they learned to spell their own names could do that math.

The big bad Bat had benched the boy after the fierce little bird had done what any decent member of the criminal underbelly would have. There were those that thought maybe it’d been an accident, that the kid was pulled off duty because of being too upset at unintentionally crossing the heavy line the Bat drew in the sand. Those voices were drowned out pretty quick though.

Sure, Robin II was all about second chances, of doing better, of redemption. But Garzonas had chances to spare and only ever spat in the face of those offering them. Doubled down on being a monster in a way very, very few of the Rogues Gallery would. The kid was a sweetheart, but he wasn’t no push over and there were some things so heinous that there was only one way of handling them. Crime Alley had its own kind of justice system, and when faced with a monster that was beyond even Batman’s jurisdiction, Robin II did what he always did: fell back on his roots.

Or so the rumors said, at least.

That was the thing about Gotham’s seedy underbelly. It was a grimy, wretched nest of vipers and cut-throats, but it was also worse than any beauty parlor when it came to gossip. No one actually knew anything other than that piece of shit motherfucker took a dive while Robin was chasing him and that he’d not been seen on the streets since. But most had a fondness for the kid, and a distaste for the kind of cruelty Garzonas reveled in and there was no proof that Robin hadn’t gone and done the world a favor by drop kicking that barbaric sack of shit off a roof. So as far as most in the Gallery were concerned, the little bird had stepped up and been a hero.

Time passed. Not a lot. But enough. The Bat disappeared too, popping up on an entire other continent in a way that was awfully tempting. Even with other Masks playing baby sitter while the local cryptid was away. Rogues were scrambling to set plans in motion, Goons getting hired en masse, weapons and weird chemicals getting delivered to shady places across Gotham by the truck-full. The criminal underbelly was abuzz with the same excited energy of children the day before a big birthday party.

And then the news came in.

There were people in the dark who made their living finding things out. Knowing things that no one else did or could. Some even specialized, keeping tabs on Batman and Robin better than anyone else in the business were able. And when the information they found wasn’t anything handy to have tucked into a back pocket or a secret they were paid extremely well to keep? They held on to with the same tenacity a sieve clung to water.

Robin II had run off across the globe and ended up in Ethiopia. Something to do with a doctor doing aid work, the same something that had the Bat end up there was the assumption. Kid ran off to handle things himself or was sent on a separate path on purpose for some plan or other the Bat had cooked up on his hunt.

Whatever the reason, the kid crossed paths with the Clown.

Alone.

Childhood was not held universally sacred in the dark streets of Gotham. The city was hard and cruel and she didn’t care about the ages of those that were ground up and spit out in her oily black heart. But Robin II was hers, the child of her heart, an exception to the rule. And besides, most folks - even those in the Rogues Gallery - largely left the purposeful harm of kids out of the equation.

The Joker wasn’t most folks.

And the little bird was a long way away from the protective shadows of his mother city.

The Rogues and their Goons always had a soft spot for the Robins. And Robin II made it especially easy to let fondness bleed out of them from time to time. He was a good kid.

When the news broke, it broke most of them right along with it.

Plans stalled. Schemes ended. Gotham, for an unnervingly quiet stretch of time that neither its civilians or the world at large understood, went still. Crime continued, of course, but the big names weren’t seen. It was only right, by the standards of those that lived their lives in the dark, that they hold off and give the man that fought them all so relentlessly over the past years the time he needed to focus on hunting down the monster that killed his son. He didn’t need the distraction, and they all owed it to Robin II not to interfere while the Bat at last put a final end to the Clown.

And the hellish cryptid would need his full focus on this one. The Joker wasn’t one to take lightly at the best of times, but he’d set himself up neatly in the middle of a nasty bear trap. Ugly and complicated in the way everything with the Clown was. Interference from the CIA, from the UN, from Superman.

Shit went down. People heard about the Bat and the Clown throwing down in a helicopter plummeting from the sky in one hell of a water landing. Big Blue fished Batman out of the drink before he could drown but there’d been no sign of the Joker.

But the Bat would find him.

They all knew the relentless bastard would find him. It was just a matter of time. With the hellish drive of a demon straight from Gotham’s darkest shadows, the Bat would track the grinning, child killing ghoul down and make right the terrible wrong the evil motherfucker had done. Batman would hunt him to the ends of the earth and enact the justice he held up so fiercely. Robin II would have the vengeance the kid so rightly deserved.

It was just a matter of time. So they waited. And waited.

Days.

Weeks.

Months.

The Clown still lived.

The world, impossibly, began to move on. The Bat returned to his lurking in the night, picking off gangs and petty crooks and no-name gangsters as if nothing had happened at all. More vicious, more savage, but failing to turn that rise in brutality into the killing blow against the one figure that so rightly deserved it.

No one knew what was happening. There were rumors and theories, as there always were in the underground. Some thought that it wasn’t the Bat at all back in Gotham but someone else pretending for awhile, looking after his neglected city while he continued his pursuit of the Joker. Other held that it was the Bat but the whole thing was a ploy to draw the Clown out into the open. A pretense at not caring meant to get under the Clown’s skin, make the asshole mad enough to get stupid and sloppy and reveal himself.

That the man simply had given up was beyond comprehension. Beyond what any upstanding Rogue could accept. So it simply couldn’t be true. There was a trick being played. Some brilliant game of 4D chess that none of them had been able to parse out. It’d be revealed in time, and they see the brilliant trap that had been set. The Clown would be lured out, the Bat would put him down for good, and then they’d all at last raise a glass to the little bird that had been shot down far too soon and smoke shitty cigarettes and quote literary masters and mourn the loss one of Gotham’s own true children.

They just had to play along. Stumbling forward back into their usual habits, pretending that it was a choice and not the world just forcibly dragging them along. It’d make sense, eventually. The Bat had a plan. Robin II wasn’t forgotten, his killer not left free to roam and ravage unpunished for what he’d done.

And then one day there was a new bird flitting across the rooftops.

Chasing the Bat’s looming frame like a reverse shadow. Bright flashes of color in contrast to the bleak darkness of Gotham’s grimy nights. Small and thin and young.

Not the first Robin. With his showman bright grin and bloody rage and unwavering belief in the terrifying power of hope. Not the brilliant, vicious little boy that they’d seen grow over the years into the fierce and fearless Nightwing.

Not Robin II either.

Not Gotham’s soft hearted little bruiser with his unshakable belief that people could be better if given the chance, shinning so bright in the dark as he held out a hand that even the Rogues had no choice but to believe right along with him sometimes. Not the tough little songbird they’d never get to see grow up. Unavenged and unhonored. Put in a box and buried in the ground with a name none of them would ever know carved into a stone they’d never be able to visit.

No.

It was a new Robin.

A new child with the R emblazoned upon his chest.

Sharp and quick and young in the way the birds always were when they started flying at the Bat’s side. Every inch of the boy’s tiny frame a tragedy and an insult. One very, very few of Gotham’s vicious underbelly were willing to tolerate.

Childhood was not held universally sacred in the dark streets of Gotham, but there was a damn big difference between holding something sacred and not giving a damn about it at all. There were rules unspoken but understood, a way things were done. Nothing so solid or concrete as a code of conduct, more a collection of time honored traditions. Blood for blood was among the oldest and truest, and the more precious the person taken the more vital and vicious payment was to be made in kind.

The Clown had killed Robin II.

Beaten the kid half to death and then finished the job with a bomb.

Everyone knew he’d done it laughing all the way.

The Bat should have done the same in kind. Done worse. It was justice, it was what was right. You kill a kid you’re marked forever. You kill one so well liked and kill ‘em like that and you’re destined for a cruel and cold death. The Bat had first dibs. It was his kid. It was his right to put an end to that awful laughter and let his son have peace at last.

But he never did.

Nightwing had. For a bit. For a moment.

Robin I, who half the time had scared them all more than the Bat ever could. Dazzling and dizzying and dangerous. Gave back the pain and hurt the Clown had forced upon him with clenched fists and bone shattering hits. They were glad for him, that he was able to beat the monster who had taken his little brother from him to death, that he was able to have such justice.

And then the Bat stepped in.

Revived the fucking Clown.

A slap in the face. The snapping crack of a spine beneath one straw too many. The final, unforgivable insult the man had dared visit upon not just the child taken from him but the entirety of Gotham.

The Rogues and their Goons always had a soft spot for the Robins. Respected their ferocity, admired their moxie, marveled at their ability to keep shining in the dark like they did. Robin II made it especially easy to let fondness bleed out of the city’s dirty criminal underbelly from time to time.

He was a good kid.

He deserved better.

Better than the silence and peace he should be granted in death to be marred by the mad cackles of his killer still running around alive and unpunished. Better than his father giving up, returning to the same old routine as if nothing had happened at all. Better than the Bat snatching up a new bird less than a year later.

Gotham and her Rogues had given the Bat time enough to do what needed to be done.

It was their turn.

[hyenaa-euphoria]

BBI DODGAY DESGIN BECAUSE IM NOT SURE IF HE IS AN ADULT

[stevens-pastrami-sandwich]

WOWOOWWOWOO im going to pelt him with rocks 💖

[twigs-sprigs]

what if darkleys kids but...transformers................

yeah.....they be transformin...silly new au

[swagginmun]

Chapter 1: Regroup and Rebound Page 1 Deep breaths! Start || Previous || Next

[therantingsage]

Ok ok I'm being annoying I'm sure but NOW I'm done drawing them and tagging people aaaaaa (part 1 / part 2)

Group shot! Family of wolves and wolf-adjecents!

Nyx: @thecosmiccrow Beanie: @electrozeistyking Colt and Akita: @lilblucat Lexi: @jazzstarrlight

[sleepy-crypt1d]

i love the idea that jack is a nerd about space, why? because im a nerd about space and also that man needs hobbies and im saying it's space

[duskyashe]

NaNoWriMo Day #10

[masterlist] [part two]

Prompt found here

Another one for ya, @stealingyourbones!

Possible trigger warnings: casual disregard for potentially deadly situations, possible body horror (I'm not entirely sure what counts as body horror and what doesn't, so this is a precaution ಡ⁠ ͜⁠ ⁠ʖ⁠ ⁠ಡ)

=============‹«⟨∞∆∞⟩»›=============

Danny was really starting to question his parents understanding of the word "vacation". This was the fifth time this year that he and his sister had been dragged along to some kind of "getaway destination" for a "nice, relaxing vacation," only for it to backfire on the younger Fenton's. Admittedly, though, this was the first time that backfire resulted in Danny being held hostage by another hero's rogue.

He felt it really said something about his life that this was the most relaxing part of his vacation so far. Everyone else around him seemed to be genuinely scared for their lives, but Danny? Eh, he's had worse. It's certainly lacking creativity, a certain flair that he'd gotten used to. Besides, he's fairly certain he could take whatever Gotham could throw at him.

Honestly, he wasn't even sure which rogue was behind this hostage situation, he'd kinda zoned that part out. And it wasn't that he didn't feel threatened! It was more, well. Ever since his accident at fourteen, he'd spent more time threatened, fighting for his life, or in danger than he hadn't, so... Yeah. Yeah, he was aware his life wasn't normal or ideal, but it was his.

Danny was just starting to go over the named objects in the solar system for the second time since he zoned out, when he was torn out of his thoughts by the sound of metal ricocheting off the walls. He watched in awe as Red Hood, Red Robin, and Nightwing worked together to bring down the goons while Batman and Robin tag teamed the guy in charge. He did his best to absorb as much of the fight as he could, knowing this was a golden opportunity to learn from some of the best heroes and vigilantes in the world.

He was so invested in the fight that he didn't notice the other hostages had already evacuated or that there was a desperate goon sneaking up on him until a hand was pressed tightly across his mouth and a weapon of some sort was held just out of his field of view. "Oi!" The goon cried as the majority of the Bats finished their appointed tasks, instantly gaining all of their attention. "You're gonna let me go, yeah? Or else pretty boy here is gonna—" they didn't get to finish their threat as Red Hood seemed to unhinge.

The eye holes of his helmet started glowing a bright, familiar looking green, his limbs stretched out, and his fingers gained talon-like claws. He let out an ear piercing shriek before bolting forward, guns falling uselessly to the ground, forgotten. Danny blinked, and suddenly he was wrapped in a very protective embrace, the goon who had been trying to use Danny crumpled at the base of the wall a few feet to the side of him.

It took another few blinks for Danny's brain to fully process and catch up with everything that had happened, but eventually he caught up enough to realize that Hood was crooning and clicking like he'd seen a few ghosts do to comfort their young. Which was. Well, it was actually kind of comforting? In a weird kind of way? He'd never had it done for him before, and now that he was paying attention, he could definitely feel a ghost core in Hood. He could have sworn it wasn't there when the Bats had first appeared, but he had been zoned out at the time, so who knew?

When the crooning and clicking started taking on a more frantic undertone, Danny realized he'd tensed as soon as the goon had grabbed him and he hadn't relaxed yet, nor had he reacted to Hood's attempts at calming him. He took a breath and consciously started relaxing into the hold, taking the comfort being offered and letting his core vibrate within his chest to simulate a contented purr. Hood started relaxing at that, his core starting to rumble gently in a resonance with Danny's that honestly made him a bit drowsy, but tensed back up at the sound of soft footsteps, letting out a low warning hiss.

Danny tried to catch a glimpse of what had made Hood go on the defensive again, but the footsteps had stopped at the hiss and Hood's back was to whoever it was. Unbidden, a frustrated and curious chirp bubbled up from his core and out his mouth before he could stop it. Hood froze, the gentle rumbling was the only thing that didn't stop at the sound of Danny's chirp. Danny looked up to find Hood's glowing green gaze locked on Danny, his head tilted to the side in thought. Curious, Danny copied the pose and let out another chip, this one more of a "please" than just aimless frustration and curiosity. Slowly, Hood turned his head over his shoulder in what seemed to be assessment.

"We don't want to hurt him," a young voice called. That was probably Robin, Danny thought. "We just want to make sure he's alright. He can stay with you until you're sure we won't hurt him, but we'd like to see he's okay for ourselves."

Danny let out another few chirps, with an unexpected trill working its way in, conveying trust, respect, and excitement. He really wanted to meet the rest of the Bats, and maybe figure out what was going on with Hood. He had been fairly certain none of the Bats were ghosts or halfas, so he would really like some answers as to how Hood had ended up with a core in the first place.

Eventually, Hood crooned his reluctant, wary acceptance and slowly started to turn around, letting Danny see the rest of the Bats again. It seemed like Danny was right, it had been Robin that had spoken. He was also the one that had tried to approach them earlier. Robin had his hands up slightly, extended away from his body, very obviously trying to prove he meant his word as any movement toward a weapon would be more than obvious and would allow Hood to react as he saw fit. The rest of the Bats were farther away, hands also displayed, though they were a mixed bag on how far away their hands were from their various weapons.

Everyone seemed to be in a bit of a stalemate, no one knowing how to react or what to say first, so Danny, more relaxed than he could remember being, ever, decided to solve that for them. "Hey, so, uh, I'm Danny, it's nice to meet you all."

=============‹«⟨∞∆∞⟩»›=============

Can I just say, it's really hard to write while eating? It's even harder trying to write while also watching TV with your sisters (⁠^⁠～⁠^⁠;⁠)⁠ゞ BUT HEY! I still managed to write this in time! And I managed it while still sick! (Did I mention yesterday that I'm sick? I meant to, but I don't remember if I did or not (⁠~⁠_⁠~⁠;⁠))

I couldn't decide which rogue ended up holding Danny hostage, and I also couldn't decide where Danny was being held, but I was able to decide that the hostages were taken because they happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, and Danny was either in a museum, a cafe/restaurant, or the planetarium I've been assured Gotham had in at least run (⁠；⁠^⁠ω⁠^⁠）

I'm going to try to do a Harry Potter ficlet tomorrow, either pure or crossed, not sure which or with what, just something Harry Potter. If anyone has any ideas for what I could do for that, please let me know in the comments and I'll choose my favorite one to write! If I don't get any suggestions I'm confident I can write, then I'll look elsewhere, but I'm trying to broaden my NaNoWriMo ficlet catalogue so more people can find something to enjoy. You guys are the best (⁠◠⁠‿⁠・⁠)⁠—⁠☆

Have a good morning/day/night!

[abellarts]

*shows up to cool aus years late with an iced coffee* heyyyyyyyyyy

i really love your "the kids are alright" au! jon-agnes-gerry is my FAVORITE trio, doomed chosen ones,,,,, so i LOVEEE an au where they get to be friends and also happy and do arson together :3 so thank you for the wonderful gift of the au i WILL be turning it over in my head for at least the next 7-10 business days

(and if i can get the Words to Go i might even end up writing a fic based on the concept. IF THAT'S OKAY WITH YOU OF COURSE. i just. REALLY like the concept asduhfhuasdf)

also i LOVE all your designs for them, ESPECIALLY GERRY 11/10 teen gerry design i adore it. also love you tying in him being an artist and being ready to bullshit at Any Moment (as a fellow artist, lemme say: mood)

i just, really love this au of yours asdhufijasdf sparks joy!! anyway i hope you have a WONDERFUL day/night! 💖💖

Oh hey omg thank you!! Damn, the kids are alright au really was years ago huh? Time flies.

They do make a good trio and the universe never put them all in the same place for that reason. Thanks for liking the Gerry design! I had to look up if British Schools allowed kids to dye their hair and a source said yeah as long as it's a naturally-occuring hair color. Idk how legit it is but I really wanted the bad black dye job haha.

Also go ahead! Anyone can write anything based on these short comics or even just the base premise. I don't own these guys. I have some ideas I never got to implement but I think I have them written down somewhere.

I also wanted to say thanks too! This message brightened my day <3 Have a wonderful Day/Night too!

[tblsomedoodles]

Mutation Day Part 4 of 4 (complete!)

First - Previous - (this is End)

And complete! i might do a mini one for Big Mama's reaction to finding them gone but this is it for Mutation Day comic. I hope you enjoyed as much as I did. (i'm definitely going to want to draw Lou some more. He was very fun to draw lol.)

[illuminatedquill]

And in the end I’d do it all again I think you’re my best friend Don’t you know the kids aren’t alright?

*Art done by my fantastic friend, Scragon

Untitled Dark-Side Sabezra AU (coming soon)

Sabine Wren & Ezra Bridger

Family’s End - And Beginning

What if the events of Ahsoka had turned out differently?

What if Sabine had made darker choices in her quest to find Ezra?

What if the Ezra she found waiting on Peridea was no longer the heroic young Jedi from her youth?

The return of Ezra Bridger should have been a cause for celebration.

But, instead, it heralded war . . .

[aquared]

i don’t wanna tag because i’m not so sure of it now but i do wanna post it

i made this like one or two days ago i think

[darth-sonny]

The regency au is extremely interesting, and I think it'd be awesome if the climax of Leo's arc is getting divorced. Mostly because I just generally like divorce but yk.

ANYWAYS, MIKEY! I think it's very cool that he's allowed a little bit more gay than his siblings. Just a smidge. I support him in everything he does.

Divorce Arcs are the pinnacle of entertainment, yeah. unfortunately, divorce was not possible (or more accurately, near impossible to get) in those times, especially for a lady. so a divorce for these two is not in the works

doesn't mean they won't work around it though~

and yeah, Mikey is allowed to be a little bit more open in being gay, but not too much, though, as it was a death sentence to be open and out. he can't go to molly houses either (places where gay and queer men showed up to hang out, or for sex) since he's still young. so he flirts occasionally every now ad then with staff. but in a way that is seen as playful as to not give anything away

not a lot of freedom, but definitely a lot more than what Donnie gets

[radioactivepeasant]

I think Jak should be allowed to take Praxis's sword for himself. For the dramatic irony.