#LMK WHAT YOU THINK

[nonbinary-arsonists]

Jimmy, Timmy, Danny, Manny, Jenny, and Dib.

With Dib being on the "bad" side in Globs of Doom, I think he'd have a hard time fitting in with the rest of them.

(Alt text under cut)

ID: Page 1 of a comic featuring Nicktoons characters. Panel 1: Dib Membrane from Invader Zim looks down at a weird device. He is wearing his usual outfit and has dumb hair. Dib says, “Hey Timmy, did you get the energy readings I sent?” Panel 2: Timmy Turner from Fairly Oddparents looks up from a phone while leaning casually on a giant green cartoon hammer in a suburban street. He is wearing a pink hoodie, scuffed jeans, and a backwards hat over a mullet. Timmy says, “Uh. No? What do you expect me to do with them?” Panel 3: Dib and Timmy talk to each other. Dib says, vaguely put off, “What? No, not you, the techie kid with the stupid hair.” Timmy points at him, saying, “Oh, you mean Jimmy!” Panel 4: Timmy looks over his shoulder at Jimmy Neutron and says, “And look who it is! None other than Mr. Chocolate soft-serve himself!” Jimmy is wearing glasses and a red turtleneck under a lab coat and holds a similarly high-tech device to Dib’s. He looks at Timmy, unimpressed, and says, “Can we stop making fun of my hair?” Timmy replies, “Nope!” Panel 5: Jimmy sighs and rubs his face, saying, “Okay, what do you need.”

ID: Page 2 of a comic. Panel 1: Timmy elbows Jimmy playfully and says, “Eh, I dunno. But get this– Dib still doesn’t know our names!” Jimmy looks at Timmy, interested. Dib angrily shouts, “Wh- it’s not my fault your names all sound alike!” Panel 2: Jimmy shrugs and looks at Timmy, saying, “Well, he does have a point.” Timmy looks unimpressed. Panel 3: A close-up of Jimmy saying, “Statistically speaking, it’s much easier for the human brain to distinguish between highly contrasting elements. (I. Brigg, 1978)” Panel 4: A zoomed-out shot of Jimmy, Timmy, and Dib in the street. Jenny Wakeman from My Life as a Teenage Robot is floating down to join them. Jimmy says, “You can’t really blame him when our names are so similar,” with his hands spread diplomatically. Timmy looks incredibly unimpressed. Dib arrogantly says, “Yeah, you all need to get better names.” Panel 5: Jenny appears next to Dib and says, “I am not changing my name.” She looks similarly to her appearance in the show, but has a ponytail and side bangs instead of twin pigtails and is wearing a contrasting maroon vest. Dib is startled and drops his device.

ID: Page 3 of a comic. Panel 1: Jenny appeals to Jimmy, saying, “Anyway, there are other ways to quickly memorize information. Like patterns!” Jimmy looks up with a hand over his mouth, thinking, and says, “Right!” The background is a red and yellow striped pattern. Panel 2: Jenny stands, confident, in front of Timmy and Dib. She says, “Plus, our names already form a recognizable pattern!” Timmy side-eyes Dib, who stares at Jenny, annoyed and confused. Panels 3-5: Jenny starts listing off the members of their group. Panel 3 shows Jimmy and Timmy, looking at each other and smiling. Jenny says, “There’s Jimmy and Timmy,” accenting the last parts of their names. Panel 4 shows Manny Rivera from El Tigre and Danny Phantom. Manny, in his El Tigre outfit, crouches on an awning in the background while Danny, in ghost form, approaches and asks, “Uh… what are we talking about?” Jenny continues, saying, “Danny and Manny,” once again stressing their names. Panel 5 features Jenny, waving a hand in the air while finishing her list, saying “-and Jenny works with that pattern too!” Panel 6: a group shot featuring all of the characters mentioned. Manny leaps down from the left. Danny stands somewhat in the foreground, looking at Jimmy. Timmy stands in the back, looking at Jimmy while thinking. Jimmy and Jenny stand in the middle, continuing their discussion. Jimmy says, “So you’re saying, if anything, Dib should change his name!” Jenny says, “Exactly!” Dib, in the foreground, objects, saying, “W- hang on-“

ID: Page 4 of a comic. Panel 1: Dib holds his hands up in protest, sweating, and says, “I just meant you should- -y’know, give me some slack w-“ Panel 2: Dib is interrupted by a mischievous Timmy, who elbows in and says, “Hey, what do you think about changing your name to Denny?” Dib looks confused. Panel 3: Manny enters from the other side, scratching his chin and grinning. He says, “I dunno, Timmy. He looks more like a Benny to me.” Panel 4: Danny butts in, holding a finger and looking down at Timmy. He says, “Cut it out you two!” Timmy and Manny look confused. Dib looks relieved. Panel 5: Danny finishes his thought, saying “Besides, this guy’s totally a Kenny.” Timmy and Manny both crack up, while Dib looks royally ticked off. He stares straight ahead and says, “That’s it! I’m going back to the syndicate!” Panel 6: A far-out shot of all 6 of the kids. Dib is storming away, angry. Jimmy and Danny follow after him, Jimmy worried and Danny apologetic. Timmy and Manny continue to laugh between themselves while Jenny stands over them and scolds them. (End.)

[mochiwei]

Some TOTK Zelda doodles 💕 I have so many theories!!

[wolfythewitch]

These are the new charm designs :D I'll be asking for samples of them to see if they look good, and if they do then I'll put up a preorder of all 7 charms

[lovelooksgudonu]

PART 3 Dark!ava thank you so much @simplyavatrice for writing the dialogue

Part 1-2 : https://www.tumblr.com/lovelooksgudonu/736870436191764480/colored-ver-darkava

[a-whispering-echo]

wanna make, like, a streamer au with the BOYS.

like, theyre all independent streamers, and they all do separate things, and are all from different COUNTRIES and shit, but theyre friends!

like, maybe one day, Nightmare mentions of handily that Dream is his brother, and people start badgering them both about it, which Dream confirms, yes, theyre brothers, why are people freaking put? Dream kinda thought they knew? i mean- the NAMES??!!

but their CONTENT is SO different, and they have such DIFFERENT circles of fans, with like, minimal overlap, but this revelation has merged a BUNCH of their fans!

maybe on stream, Dream mentions his friend, Ink, and the artists in chat starts FREAING out. THAT INk, does he mean THE Ink??

and Maybe then INK mentions his friend Cross to Dream, who thinks his BROTHER might like him, so he introduces them, and Cross and Nightmare get along, and Cross introduces his friend BLUE to Dream. and then mentions his friend KILLER to Nightmare, who has a moment of realisation, because holy shit, he knows Killer too!?!?

and then Killer mentions his friends, Horror and Dust, and THEY join the group, and maybe Killer says to CROSS he knows this guy, Epic, gaming streamer, who he thinks would work well with Cross' stuff, and Cross scream, because holy hell, that his best friend???

this could go ON, but im imagining them all now <3

maybe they all play, like, fuckin among us or something some time, idk

EDIT: me an @ancha-aus are talking about this in the comments - you should read them! @vantalemons has added some bits down there too!

[catbox730]

l have Lmk brain rot help (this is a WIP by the way)

[grcetxt]

Fuck it we ball fanfic time. Gn reader x lars pinfield WOO

Okay WOO lmk if this is shit or ooc or anything, but im pretty happy with how this went :D its a little rushed, might redo it in the future idk. Also i made Y/N bit too much like me (northern) so watch out for that american readers SORRYYY. anwyays enjoy!

I am smart.

No don't laugh, I am, genuinely I am.

Maybe not in the way that others deem important, maybe not in the traditional sense, but I am bright.

Pinfield doesn't think so, the prick.

Every day I come into work, all smiling and welcoming, and what do I get in return? A roll of the eyes if I'm lucky.

Dickhead.

But I don't let him get to me, I love my job. My boss is chill, I love hanging out with Lucky, and the Spenglers seem nice! It's a good gig, really.

I'm the "PR guy" for Ghost Corps. Every time they fuck up and destroy a building or whatever I'm the one who covers it up. I'm a real smooth talker, 'gift of the gab' my mum used to call it.

The team needs me, I know that, they know that. Im crucial to the whole operation, the sole reason why that whiny mayor dude hasnt shut them down.

I'm the one who goes to press interviews, who goes on the radio or on TV. I'm the social media manager, I make videos, and post tweets, fuck I've even started a Ghostbusters youtube account! I deserve a raise honestly. #justiceforY/NthePRguy

I get on with everyone at work except for Pinfield, and I genuinely dont know why.

I've tried getting him to feature in videos, or explain the science of stuff to me so I can actually seem like I know what I'm talking about- but he just brushes me off.

Gary tries to reassure me about this on a daily basis. "Its nothing to do with you Y/N" he smiled one day, putting a hand on my shoulder and guiding me away from the busy scientist. "He doesnt really talk to anyone, he gets really passionate about his work"

"I get that, but there's no need for him to be a dick to me, he's got me thinking all kinds of shit honestly!" I replied, exhasperated "I've never done nowt to him"

Suddenly, Pinfield raised his head from his work, scrunching his eyebrows together. "thats a double negative" he commented, looking at me as if I was stupid. Great, It's the most he's ever spoken to me and its a fucking insult- atleast I think it is.

"you what?" I ask, making my way over to him despite Garys protests. I fold my arms, looking as menacing as i can (which ive been told isn't very menacing at all)

"I said its a double negative, if you've never done nothing then you must've done something" before I can reply, he adds onto the end "which you haven't, by the way. I dont know why you think that. I treat you the same as anyone else"

I can't explain why his answer bothers me so much, but it does. Why does he view me in the same way he views the others? That's hardly fair. I'm always welcoming to him, I make time out of my day to include him in things. I hate to admit it, but I genuinely admire him aswell. His love for all things paranormal, the way he gets so excited and proud when he gets to explain the science of ghost-catching to someone. It's oddly endearing.

I tell him as much (excpet for the stuff about him being endearing, he doenst need his ego inflated any more than it already is)

He looks confused, I've never seen him look like that- its weird. Arrogant? sure. Annoyed? when is he not bffr. Happy? Once or twice. But confused? Weird. This is the guy with all the answers, the smart one.

He thinks for a moment, before seemingly making a desision. He stands up with a small huff of exhasperation, and walks off.

As he goes past me, he grabs my arm, more gently than I thought he was capable of. Okay, i guess im coming too. Fun, roadtrip time.

He takes me out of the lab and down the corridor, into a relatively well lit small room.

"Well this is-" before i can speak properly, he cuts me off. Told you he was a prick.

"I dont understand you Y/N" he blurts out, looking at me, as if I'm some sort of specimin hes studying in the lab.

"Well good." I joke. I dont like the serious tone he's taking. Dont like how aware I am of his gaze. HATE the fact I can feel my cheeks burning. Gross. Pinfield is a dick, we've established this. Why the fuck am I BLUSHING because he's LOOKING at me? Bit embarassing, pull it together Y/LN.

He doenst like this though. He shakes his head, pacing around.

"No Y/N you dont get it. I understand everyone, sort of anyways. I've observed them, I can predict their reactions to things. I know what they're all like- but you're... I just dont understand! You're so happy and nice all the time, but you also get angry at stupid stuff, but never really properly angry? I cant make sense of it, genuinely. You've not done anything wrong, you can't do anything wrong. Thats frustrating too. It's like you're this perfect, beautiful person, and I've been trying to see flaws but I cant-" He rambles, speaking like hes just letting out one stream of constant thoughts. He seems stressed, poor guy.

I interupt him, grabbing his arm. "Hey, c'mon Pinfi- I- Lars. C'mon Lars. I'm not worth the stress mate" I try and reassure him, but that just agitates him more.

"See! That's just it! I've been horrible to you, I admit it. But you've kept trying with me! When I hurt my hand you were the one who bandaged it and put it in a sling"

(i had found him almost blacked out from the pain on the lab floor, even the memory of it sent a shiver down my spine)

"you were the only one that looked for me after we all nearly died fighting Garraka"

("Pinfield? Pinfield!? Oh my god, there you are! Thank fuck you're alright!" Okay maybe this tiny non-crush had been going on longer than i thought... christ)

"I dont like the thought of you hurt..." i muttered, embarrased. this definitely wasnt how i was expecting this conversation to go, fuck my life I was crushing on a nerdy scientist who defintely didn't like me back.

He stopped his pacing and walked over to me until the gap between us was non existant. He slowly, hesitantly, lifted his hand until he cupped my cheek.

"I don't like the thought of you upset because of me" he muttered, his voice low.

My heart completely stopped, my breath caught in my throat, was this happening? how was this happening? i swear this guy was like my mortal enemy not even 5 minutes ago. so many revelations were bieng made today...

I decided to be bold, why not? fuck it, i've got nothing to loose at this point.

I leaned in so our noses just grazed eachother, looking at him, really genuinely looking at him. his soft blue eyes that seemed to peer into my soul. Not pierce through it, like some weird blue eyed fuckers i knew, but looked. gently, tenderly, as if he was looking at everything i ever had been, or would be. like i was something beautiful, something to be treaured.

It made me want to sob at the thought. god, how disgustingly sweet.

"make up for it then" i whispered, the tension so thick i could cut it with a knife.

I'd planned on being the one to make the forst move, but apparently, that was all that Lars needed.

He kissed me. His soft lips pressed against mine, sotfly, tenderly, tentatively.

I could feel the anxiety radiating off of him, so i quickly reciprocated. More eagerly than i owuldve liked- but oh well.

I could feel his hand resting on my waist, his thumb gently stroking my cheek. It all felt so tender, so raw, not at all how i thought it would be.

I felt like a teenager again, and couldnt resist letting out a small giggle, making Lars pull away. He looked confused again, making me laugh once again.

"What?" he aksed, a sort of amused smile on his face.

"Nothing- sorry. Nothing at all. Just thinking of how fuming mums gonna be when i tell her ive got a posho for a boyfriend"

"I am NOT posh!"

"you are a littleee"

"I AM NO- wait- boyfriend?"

"oh shit didnt mean to say that bi-"

he cut me off with another kiss, this one much more confident.

It felt like a million fireworks were going off in my head, oh I could definetly get used to this feeling. This war, sweet, happy feeling. My senses were flooded with everything Lars. His taste, his smell, his touch.

I felt like I was learning to live again.

[montydrawsstuff]

New espio art just dropped!!

Gave him a Neato lil war fan

[haveihitanerve]

The Joker Isn't Dead- But Where The Hell Is He????

Jason ground his teeth in frustration. He had been searching Gotham for two weeks now, two! And he still hadn't heard a single word about the stupid clown. Joker. Of course now he disappeared off the face of the earth. Just Jason's luck. He gritted his teeth, hunkering down further against the chimney he was leaning against. “Come on you idiots.” he muttered. He was camped out in front of a common Goonian lair, and was waiting for the two goons that he remembered had once been on the clowns payroll. It wasn't their fault, necessarily, the goons were dished out their jobs and didn't have too much say, but he wasn't going to go easy on them either. They were goons after all. (but, he had made sure these were not the goons that had helped restrain and kill him, because he wanted information and not for the pit to take over and kill them before he got that) Finally, the door creaked open and the two henchmen walked out, chatting and laughing. “Not for long.” Jason thought grimly, following them a distance behind on the rooftops. There was a rule, an agreement between the people of Gotham, the Goons, and the Vigilantes, that no goons were to be harmed off duty- unless of course outside of goon aimed attacks and just regular Gotham activity attacks, and they were not allowed to be attacked within a few miles radius of their headquarters. Jason hated the rule, but he did obey by it. But he didn't wait long. Two steps off of the threshold and he swung from above, knocking the two goons into an alley. “Joker. Start talking.” he growled, pointing the gun at them. “Woah!” One goon startled in surprise, both lifting their hands on impulse. “Easy there Red Hood. Theres rules.” “fuck the rules.” Jason snarled back, lifting the pistol higher. “I aint hurting you yet am i? Start talking.” “bout what exactly?” The second goon asked, and Jason begrudgingly had to admit that he knew this goon. “Hey Bill.” Bill dipped his head. “Whats up Red.” Jason tapped his foot impatiently. “I need info on Joker.” The two goons exchanged looks, but kept their hands raised. “Shi man, Joker? Haven't heard that name in a while.” He laughed, ribbing Bill. Bill chuckled. Jason waved the gun threateningly and they obediently put their hands back up. “We haven't been on Joker’s payroll in a while Hood. No goons have. He ain't hiring.” “what?” Jason asked, caught off guard. “But hes not dead!” he exclaimed, waving the gun in confusion. Neither goon flinched, which just showed how long they had lived in Gotham. “Naw but he probably wishes he were.” Bill joked, nudging his partner. The two howled with laughter. “The fuck does that mean?” Jason demanded. Bill looked at him oddly. “Dintcha hear Hood? Batman beat the Joker half to death after he lost his Robin. Joker’s been a permanent residence at Arkam Hospital since.”

[foresthouseowo]

[thetomorrowshow]

we stand alone

trust au

fwhip and gem story??? fwhip and gem story from trust au anyone?????

takes place after scott has fallen off the cliff :)

~

Katherine dismisses the meeting with a flourish, which is followed by a great scraping of chairs as the rulers all stand, making small talk with one another.

One ruler makes a beeline for her, not quite able to hide the nervous wringing of his hands. He’d done well, Katherine thinks idly, for his first House Blossom meeting as such a new emperor.

“Hi, Lady Katherine,” says Count fWhip as he approaches. “Sorry to bother you—what was, uh, his name?”

He subtly nods toward the stern-looking elf a couple of seats down, dressed in rich white-and-blue robes adorned with golden jewelry, a crown of white jewels set atop his cyan hair and between his pointed ears.

“King Scott,” she tells fWhip, “of the elves of Rivendell.”

“Oh,” fWhip says. “Are we allies?”

Katherine can’t help but giggle a little. “Yes. You two are allies.”

“Good,” fWhip nods. “Good. I want to be allies with him.”

“See something you like?” Katherine asks, just barely restraining a smirk. Scott has never failed to be extremely conventionally attractive, from his casually bored expression to his perfectly manicured fingernails. Everyone who sees Scott has to do an impressed double take—whether they’re attracted to men or not.

fWhip startles, looking between Scott and Katherine. “No, no, no. Not like that. I’m not interested in—in that kind of alliance. He’s just . . . he’s really cool.”

She can agree on that. Scott gives off an aura of royalty, unlike many of the fresh-faced rulers around the table. He’s more experienced than most, probably the oldest in the room. He beats out Katherine in age by at least ten years, which is obnoxious of him.

“Go talk to him, then,” she prods, still certain, partly, that fWhip is harboring some sort of small crush on the elf.

“I can’t just go up there without a reason to talk to him!”

“Why do you need a reason? Make small talk.”

“No, then he’ll know that I’m not actually important to talk to,” fWhip argues. “I want to make a good first impression, you know?”

Oh, humans and their little crushes. “All right,” Katherine says, smiling. “Ask him how you can make the transition any easier, but not in a weird, spineless way. Act confident in your empire’s power.”

“What transition?”

Katherine shrugs. “Pick a transition and go talk about it.”

Then she turns away, seeking out the Ocean Queen to ask her for something or other that she hasn’t decided yet—she really just wants to push fWhip into talking to Scott.

And sure enough, after he flounders silently for a moment, he nods to himself and boldly approaches Scott.

And Katherine finds herself right in front of Lizzie, who raises a brow.

“So, how can the Overgrown support the Ocean Kingdom in this transition?” she asks.

-

fWhip’s at his sister’s side the moment he sees her fall, and whatever he yells at Scott doesn’t matter because Gem is limp on the ground, her hair is entirely white and she isn’t moving—

fWhip shakes her, once, twice, three times, each more desperate than the last.

Her head lolls from side to side, frost creeping down her jaw.

“No,” he mutters. “No, no, no no no no—Gem, please, please wake up—”

But she doesn’t stir.

That’s it.

fWhip leaps up, barrels into Scott, yells at him and threatens him and he’s gonna kill him because it’s his sister—

Scott throws him off and to the side—fWhip’s jacket goes stiff with ice as he rolls—and returns to fighting Xornoth.

fWhip watches, out of breath, the fight not chased from him but tied down within him.

He watches his sister, across the impromptu battlefield, willing her to sit up, to move, anything.

She can’t be dead. She can’t be.

Xornoth throws Scott off the cliff—good riddance, honestly—and in the hustle and bustle of armies from all sides rushing forward to look for the elf’s body, fWhip crawls back to Gem’s side, pulls her into his lap.

Her eyes are stubbornly closed.

fWhip doesn’t give up. He tries everything he can think of—he pulls on her white hair, he snaps his fingers in her ears, he pokes at a bruise on her arm.

Nothing happens.

His hands cup her cheeks—so cold, far too cold—and he tries and tries to rub warmth into them with his trembling thumbs.

Gem doesn’t so much as twitch.

No. No, no, no—

fWhip looks up, around at the armies beginning to disperse around him.

“Sausage!” he shouts, eyes scanning the crowd. “Sausage!”

The call starts passing along his soldiers—his joyful soldiers, clapping each other on the backs and celebrating their victory—until Sausage is there, hands on his hips.

“What’s up?” he asks disinterestedly.

“It’s Gem,” fWhip spits, his panic presenting, as it so often does, as anger. “That—that piece of scum did something to her; she won’t wake up. She needs help, right now.”

Sausage raises an eyebrow. “What do you want me to do about it?”

That isn’t right.

That isn’t how Sausage acts.

(Well, it’s how Sausage acts lately.)

“Go get him,” fWhip says, voice rising. “Your god, or whatever the demon is.”

“Show our lord the proper respect,” Sausage tells him. “You serve him as well, dog.”

fWhip’s blood pounds in his ears. He can’t take the bait. He can’t assert himself here—Sausage has been getting too full of himself lately, he needs to remember that fWhip is in charge here—but Gem’s life is at stake.

“Please,” he grits out. “Please get Lord Xornoth to heal Gem.”

Sausage only smirks. “He’s already here.”

And suddenly, fWhip can feel him. That choking darkness that always seems to follow the demon, the mists that cloud his senses so entirely, the dread that seeps into his very teeth,

fWhip inhales deeply, then turns to his lord.

“Milord,” he murmurs, inclining his head.

“Ah,” comes the resounding voice, bouncing around fWhip’s head. “One of my servants requires me.”

fWhip looks up in increments—first the demon’s heavy, dripping boots, then his torn black robes, and finally, his grotesque, blackened lips (he doesn’t focus on any feature, his stomach turning, he already summoned the demon once today and he’s fairly certain he lost ten years off his life from that ordeal and he really doesn’t want to strain his mind any more than he already has).

“Milord,” he says again, voice trembling (from exhaustion, or fear, or rage, or grief, or perhaps all at once). “Please. Please, my sister. . . .”

“Speak your request, dog,” Xornoth says lazily. fWhip stiffens as he hears Sausage snicker at his side.

“You vanquished the foe with ease,” he implores, pushing aside his anger. He doesn’t move his eyes from the demon’s mouth. “Please, use that same power to wake my sister.”

And those lips turn up.

Lightly, tugging a glove off his thin, rotting hand, Xornoth bends down and lightly places his disgusting fingers on Gem’s forehead.

fWhip resists the urge to pull Gem away from him, from his tainted touch. He’s going to heal her. She’s going to wake up and be okay.

Sure enough, the frost on her face recedes, color bleeding back into the roots of her hair. It spreads out, down to the end of her long braid, and fWhip could cry for the pink in her cheeks and lips and the sudden intake of breath as her eyelids flutter open.

Her eyes have a strange, almost feverish shine to them.

But she’s awake, and that’s all that matters.

“fWhip,” she mumbles, voice small. “What happened?”

Xornoth withdraws, still smiling that terrible smile, and Sausage goes with him, falling into the moving soldiers all around.

fWhip hugs his sister, as tightly as he dares. “It’s okay,” he says. “You took a bit of a fall, but you’re okay. You’re better now.”

She smiles a little, leans into the hug. She hasn’t been this close, this kind, in months.

He’s missed his sister.

And right now, he doesn’t care that his army is waiting for his command. He doesn’t care that Xornoth probably expects something of him right now.

He only cares that Gem is safe.

“Let’s get you home.”

-

Gem is different.

fWhip properly notices it the next day, when she still hasn't kicked him out of her home at Crystal Cliffs (and he should have left by now, but he can’t, irrationally afraid that if he lets her out of his sight she’ll go cold and limp again).

She's acting weird. She laughs at the wrong times, impulsively chucks a rock at a bird, her eyes seeming to be constantly wet. She scratches her arms with sharp fingernails, and scribbles so hard on a piece of paper that her pen tears through it, and when fWhip picks up the torn pieces he finds sketchy drawings of grinning faces and dead animals.

Perhaps the strangest thing—and fWhip doesn't know how he didn't notice this sooner—is her hair. It isn't the same shade it used to be—what once was a carrot-colored braid, matching fWhip's own hair, is now a deep red, almost maroon, flowing loose around her shoulders.

That one he tries to write off. Of course her hair is a different color. It was completely white before, and Xornoth probably didn't know what color he needed to return it to.

He can't ignore it for very long, though.

Because within a couple of hours, he has to face that this isn't the sister he knows.

She breaks down sobbing in the middle of breakfast, sobs that turn into laughs, until she suddenly falls silent, staring at fWhip with something predatory in her gaze.

"I was wondering," she says slowly, "how far can a body fall without dying?"

Normal thing to say. Maybe she's hoping Scott's alive.

"Can we test it?" she asks, sounding almost innocent in her curiosity. "There are plenty of souls to spare."

Not a normal thing to say. Okay.

fWhip would say that kind of thing just to get a rise out of her. Get her to yell at him. Run away, laughing, Sausage at his side.

She isn't right.

None of them are right.

This isn't Gem. This isn't his sister, this is Xornoth puppeteering her body, pulling her lips into an uncanny smile, one eye slightly more open than the other.

fWhip has never hated the demon more.

But he can't show it. He can’t show it, or else he’ll lose his sister forever.

"Sure," he says instead. "But I don't think we should do it alone."

He needs back-up. Who can be back-up? Sausage can't, he's acting strange as well—and Joey was never trustworthy to begin with—

Her head tilts (more of a fall to the side than an intentional nod) and she pouts, crossing her arms. "We won't be alone," she argues. "There will be plenty of people. We need to do this properly, which means dropping a lot of bodies."

"Isn't there anything else you want to do?" fWhip asks, biting back the desperation that threatens to enter his voice.

Gem huffs. "Lots of things. That one is just the most sensitized for your delicate mind, brother."

She's never called him that before. fWhip would have laughed her out of town. The closest she's come is when she squealed "twinsies!!" when he got crowned ruler of the Grimlands, and he'd tackled her to the ground over it.

She always uses his name.

Xornoth never has, though.

"Makes sense," he nods, every gear in his head turning at top speed. What can he do? "Me and my sensitivities. Because it's definitely me that hates hurting people."

Not that he loves hurting people. fWhip isn't a fan of senseless violence, not like Joey is. He certainly wouldn't sacrifice even one of his citizens for this twisted experiment.

This isn't Gem. This isn't her, this isn't his sister, this isn't the girl who would nurse squirrels back to health and practice spells of bubbles and friendship or whatever.

fWhip wants to throw up. He's supposed to be the screwed-up one, not her. She was always supposed to be good.

"Brother," she says sullenly. "You're ignoring me."

"I'm not," fWhip whispers. He doesn't know how he could.

"Yes, you are. Can't we go right now? I'm not hungry. I'm more . . . thirsty. For blood."

His sister is dead.

He's sure of it.

Scott killed his sister, and Xornoth just made everything ten times worse.

At least Scott did it accidentally.

"Let's go," he decides, pushing back his chair and standing up. "Let's go do it at the Overgrown."

"We have plenty of cliffs here, though. Why do we have to go so far away?"

"Because I said so. And Katherine would love to join in, don't you think?"

Gem doesn't seem to agree, but she gets up anyway, leaving to find her elytra.

fWhip isn't really sure why he wants to head to the Overgrown. Some part of his brain is formulating a plan involving Katherine locking up this horribly wrong Gem, the magic of the fae strong enough to keep her imprisoned.

Hopefully Katherine is willing to see them.

-

"I don't want to be here," Gem whines, even as fWhip practically drags her through the forest. "Take me back."

"Nope, Katherine really wants a part in your evil plans."

"She's too nice. She never wants to do anything interesting."

"Right, but—"

"Stop right there, intruders!"

fWhip freezes at the command, grip tightening on Gem's arm.

Three fairies step out of the brush, skin mottled to match the trees in a way that fWhip can't tell if it's facepaint or their actual skin. They’re varying heights, one quite tall, one about fWhip’s height, and the third smaller than a dog, fluttering around on tiny wings. Even with the odd sizes, they make quite the intimidating force, and fWhip doesn’t dare move.

They circle the two of them, one with a knife bared, the other two with little sparks flying from their open palms. fWhip bites his lip, squeezes Gem's wrist as a warning to stay quiet.

The brush moves again, and out steps Katherine, face solemn, her dress a sky blue.

"fWhip," she says, frowning, as if his name leaves a bad taste in her mouth. "What are you doing here? Unhand the Wizard Gem, and return to the Grimlands at once."

"Yes, unhand me," Gem sniffs.

"Lady Katherine," fWhip says with all the politeness he can muster (he’s getting quite practiced at it, what with keeping his tongue in check around the demon). "I invoke the peace of House Blossom. I have important matters to discuss with you."

She raises an eyebrow.

"Alone," he stresses.

Which is how he finds himself without his leather jacket (confiscated) and his boots (also confiscated), alone in a room with Katherine, who stares him down, arms folded.

"I thought I was your ally," fWhip grumbles, pulling at the short sleeves of his white shirt, feeling naked without his jacket. "You didn't have to take my things."

"We're only allies in the way that wasps and bees don't sting one another," Katherine says icily. "Don't you dare expect aid, or anything of the sort. In fact, I'm surprised that you would even show your—"

"It's not for me," fWhip interrupts loudly. "I don't need aid."

"Then why, in Hycea's name, are you here?"

fWhip resists the urge to roll his eyes. "Gem," he says. "It isn't for me, it's for her. She—something's wrong with her."

That gives Katherine pause. "She . . . was definitely off, when I led her to her usual suite. What happened?"

"What happened," fWhip growls, "is Scott hit her with whatever that was, and then—to bring her back, the demon changed her."

There’s a pause, ugly and jagged, that sits in the air between them like a dropped vase, shattered on the floor, the dead flowers scattered.

"Did you ask him to heal her?" Katherine asks, appalled, and fWhip reluctantly nods.

Katherine's mouth hangs ajar. "What did you expect?" she demands. "You asked the literal demon to bring someone back to life, and you didn't expect him to have changed her?"

"Well, it didn't look like there were very many other options at the time!"

Katherine shakes her head in disgust. "Right. Sure. I'll help, but it isn't for you. It's for—"

"It's for Gem, I know, I get it," fWhip cuts her off. "It was never supposed to be for me. I just . . . she's your friend, so I thought you might be willing to try. Just . . . lock her up, or something? Keep her safe, but others safe from her."

Katherine stares at him for far too long. Long enough that fWhip shifts uncomfortably, looks down at his socks. His left sock has a hole in the toe. He should get a new sock.

"Follow me."

She's out of the room before fWhip can quite register what she's said, but he spins on his heel and walks after her, socked feet making a soft thud sound against the floor of her palace instead of the normal click of his heels.

"Many of my plants have been corrupted," Katherine says, leading him down a long corridor. "Disgusting red vines growing up out of nowhere, killing the flowers. I've been working on a concoction to neutralize the corruption. It’s been moderately successful in the trials—we can give it to her.”

"Wait, wait, wait, wait—you want to feed it to Gem? What if it hurts her?"

"I can feel the corrupting magic in her, fWhip. It's entwined around her soul, crushing it. We don't have time to experiment."

Of course, when she offers the concoction to Gem, she doesn't want to take it.

They meet her in the set of rooms that Katherine had led her to (and there she is, too-red hair, tearing the pages out of a book with the remains of another book at her feet), in the sitting room. The carpet is plush, the sofa off to the side is roomy, but fWhip doesn’t pay any real attention to the furnishings because Gem is there and she isn’t right.

"What is this?" Gem asks when Katherine hands her the potion (and she drops the book), sloshing it around in the glass bottle suspiciously. "An assassination attempt?"

"Now why would I try to kill you?" Katherine says reasonably. "You're one of my best friends. This is a mind-enhancing potion."

Gem laughs shrilly. "You think I need one of those?"

Katherine freezes. She gives fWhip a look, one that he doesn't care to read. His eyes are fixed on Gem.

Then Gem shrugs. "What harm could it do?" she says. "Make me even smarter than I already am?"

And then, in practically a single gulp, she downs the potion.

fWhip holds his breath, eyes scanning his sister for any change. She smacks her lips, looks around.

"So," she says. "How about on to—"

Her jaw goes slack. Her eyes roll up into her head.

Limp, boneless, Gem crumples to the floor.

It’s just like last time, fWhip can practically feel the chill in the air, can practically see Smajor’s stupid face—

He curses, dives toward her. He's too late to catch her, but he pulls her up into his lap and presses his ear to her chest.

After a moment, he feels the movement of her chest and barely can restrain a sigh of relief. She's alive. Everything's okay.

"Is she gonna wake up?" he asks, eyes darting around her face. She's looking pale again—her cheeks have been almost flushed since she woke up again—but not so pale that frost is spreading down her jaw. That’s got to be good, right?

"Hopefully. But why do you care?"

fWhip looks back up at Katherine. She’s watching him, arms folded and face stony. "Why—why do I care?" he asks incredulously. "She's my sister."

"And you're a murderer," Katherine counters. "How can you pick and choose—"

"Name one person I've murdered!"

"Your actions led directly to the deaths of Jimmy and Scott—may their souls bring new growth—and your armies are taking possession of Rivendell and killing hundreds of elves as we speak!"

Touché.

Also, fWhip totally has killed people. He just hasn't told anyone about those.

Probably best not to bring it up.

The truth is . . . fWhip never wanted a war. He never wanted to invade Rivendell. He was happy in the Grimlands.

He's not sure exactly how everything spiraled the way it has.

"I don't expect you to understand," he says, instead of any of that. "Not whe—"

"You tortured Jimmy!" Katherine accuses. "For years! Why?"

"What, is rightful bullying against the law, now?"

"You kidnapped and tortured Scott in a prison cell!"

"Okay, I have no idea how you found out about that."

Katherine's eyes slide away shiftily. "Maybe I snuck into Scott's room and read his diary last time I was in Rivendell," she admits. "But still! They were both rulers, and what you did to them was definitely in violation of many international laws!"

fWhip sighs, rubs his eyes. "Look, I can't—I can't explain Jimmy. I just have—I hate him! He was so annoying! And I'm not sorry for what we did! It was funny, and it made him shut up."

And it's true. He hates Jimmy. He doesn't regret the good ol' years, the beating appointments, the power. It was fun.

"And Scott?"

fWhip shrugs. "I don't know," he says. Katherine huffs, so he continues. "No, really! I . . . geez, he just got in the way. I didn't have fun hurting him, I swear. If that makes it any better."

"Then why did you do it?"

fWhip doesn't answer.

He really never expected to get here.

He could tell, early on, that something was different about Sausage. He was more ruthless, more bloodthirsty. Quicker to hate and make drastic decisions.

He hadn't thought that his and Joey's plan to release the demon would actually work. It was just a little fun, messing with the dark secrets of the world. Back then, before Xornoth actually had power, everything meant so much less. It was a game, just like beating Jimmy had been a game!

He’d gotten too deep before he even thought that they might be going too far. In fact, he'd first realized he was in too deep when he was at the definition of too far—back in that dungeon in Mythland, after beating Scott with a guard's weapon until he finally gave up that tiny piece of information.

He had dropped the halberd, disgust rising within himself as he stared at Scott's pitiful, sniveling, bleeding form.

Then he'd pushed it away and left.

It wasn't like he enjoyed the sleep-torture. Well, he didn't have any real problems with it, which might be a problem in and of itself. But he hadn't gotten excited about it, like Sausage and Joey. Scott had once been an ally, even someone that fWhip had admired. He didn’t want to hurt him. He didn’t want to hurt anyone.

Really, fWhip's main issue was Jimmy.

None of this would have ever happened if Jimmy hadn't shown his stupid face at a House Blossom meeting however many years ago.

"It's Jimmy's fault," he mutters. Katherine laughs, almost as shrilly as Gem had.

"Jimmy's dead," she says derisively. "Come up with a new excuse for your actions."

fWhip doesn't really have anything to say to that.

"Well, we're already here," he says eventually, one hand idly brushing Gem’s bangs back from her face. "What's happened has happened. And I might as well try to come out on top."

The look Katherine gives him is disgusted, angry, and maybe a bit mournful. "You used to have so much promise. You used to be good. What happened?"

And fWhip doesn't have an answer to that, either.

-

Over the course of the next several hours, Gem's hair returns to its original color, her face gains more natural color, and eventually, her eyes flicker open, and they don't glint with any fever or evil intent.

She looks almost normal.

She isn't dead.

Just like the morning prior, she wakes and instinctively leans into fWhip's hold (because he hasn’t moved, hasn’t left her in any of the intervening time, even when his legs fell asleep and his back started to ache. He stayed, and held her, and waited).

"fWhip," she mumbles, squinting her eyes shut again. "What happened?"

She's okay.

She's his sister again.

"You had a bit of a rough time," he says softly, helping her to sit up against the sofa that they had laid her upon. "You're okay now, though."

"Gem, how are you feeling?" Katherine asks, hurrying over. She sits on the sofa beside them, and fWhip leans Gem more against Katherine than himself as she opens her eyes again, offering a weak smile toward Katherine.

"Warm," Gem says slowly. "But . . . a good warm. Not like the . . . the fire."

"That's good to hear," Katherine smiles. "Anything feel strange? Unlike you?"

fWhip slips off the sofa, heads to the door. He turns, hand on the doorknob.

Katherine meets his gaze, eyes hard and unforgiving. She nods, once.

He nods back.

Then he leaves, ignoring Gem's weak call of his name.

His army is currently taking over Rivendell, after all. He needs to be there.

[sin1039]

Well I decided to redo her Kaiju, since the first one I made was something I was not too happy about how she looked...

[its-wabby-stuff]

Another Donatello drawing. With profile and front facing.

Also Leo…

[komagoat]

Lloyd is a little prankster sometimes :3

[you-see-something-strange-here]

We were robbed of a Halloween episode in Ted Lasso. Imagine them training in costumes! It would be so fun!!

For costumes, I feel like Sam would be a wholesome little bumblebee, complete with the little headband with the antennas. Isaac and Colin would be a fun couples costume.

Bumbercatch would come in a highly specific, niche costume that nobody understands but everybody just pretends to know to not hurt his feelings (the entire episode halloween episode would be filled with people trying to understand what it is and at the end it’s incredibly simple)

Jamie would obviously be Roy, and it’s incredibly spot on. Roy would wear the exact same clothes he does everyday but when he’s questioned, he would claim that he’s dressed as a black cat. Beard and Ted would dress up as each other for kicks.

[celestialdaily]

No Pluto, sorry