#i had the first...ten? i think?

[ninja-knox-ur-sox-off]

Repress It, Mk!

Mei and Red Son wouldn't be his backup singers (because they support going to therapy) so he had to improvise. He's fine, all good all the time all good

[vwoop-prince]

YJ S3 Dick, still in the midst of his fever dream, hides underneath the 'souvenir' instead of behind some boxes, and accidentally opens the airlock trying to take care of the Parademons. The others get it to close... but not before Nightwing is thrown into space.

There, he stares at the ship holding his friends and mentors. There, he wishes more than anything that he can, somehow, survive. There, he tries to live, if only so his family don't have to bury him like Jason.

There, Nightwing dies, wanting to save everyone, even with the cold seeping into his bones far too quickly for a regular section of space.

Then, Dick opens his eyes to... Earth? There's a little house, and grass, and trees, but there's a bubble of green over it all. Outside of that green was an entire castle, one that looked like it should have far more support beams than it does for even a hope that it stays standing.

And the sky was swirling shades of that same green. It makes him think of Lazarus.

"Well, that's something you don't see every day." He whips his head behind him, a bit too fast for Earth's atmosphere, but it doesn't hurt him. Past the bubble of green was a blue-skinned adult in purple robes, the insides of a grandfather-clock fitted inside their torso, and a black staff with a stopwatch on its top. Beside them was a man with snow white hair, glowing green eyes, a crown of frozen fire dancing above his head, and the most galaxy-like cloak Dick's ever seen clasped to his shoulders. He's wearing... a hazmat suit? Maybe? The twinkling stars and odd lighting of wherever he is were giving him a bit of a headache.

But in front of those two, within this bubble, was...

"DICK!" Wally shouted with unrestrained glee, a blur overtaking his spot for barely a heartbeat before Dick's stuck in a crushing hug that he reciprocates once his brain stops feeling like its melting.

He doesn't know how long it took for them to calm down, but the man with the crown spoke up after a time, as Wally was still wiping their faces free of tears. "Welcome to the Infinite Realms, Nightwing." Dick barely even registered that he was still wearing his suit, but now it felt suffocating. "I suppose you're the one Clockwork was holding out for; There shouldn't've been enough Ectoplasm around you to form a Ghost, and your physical body's still in space. I can see why you like this one, though, Clockie," he states flippantly, turning to his companion. Almost like he didn't expect Dick to pay too close attention to what he was saying.

"Either way, there's two options for you." The man didn't let Dick swallow his tears and question anything. Dick's not sure if he's grateful or not. "First: Stay in the Realms permanently. You'll see Kid Flash whenever you want and learn to be a Ghost with the denizens of the Realms. Maybe find your parents."

"But..." Dick pulls away from Wally, keeping him at arms length, eyes flitting between them. The two outside the bubble were distinctly... ghost-like, so the mentions of 'Ghosts' make sense. But Wally looked... alive. A bit pale, a bit thin... but alive. Dick can't see any of his own skin to see if it was blue or tinted that way, but the Nightwing symbol on his chest kept flickering between its own blue and this 'Realms' green. "But--What about the others? What about you? Why can't you come home?" The last two, he focuses on Wally, because now he can feel a heartbeat beneath his gloves. Wally's alive. He's alive.

His friend just shrugs. "Something about their portals not fit for the living? I'm meant to wait for someone to figure out a permanent portal, but they won't tell me how long that'll take." Wally glares at the... 'Ghosts'? There was a heat to it, but it also seemed like this was a well-worn argument.

"The permanent portal was always an 'if', Wallace West. And that is entirely dependent on if Richard Grayson takes the second option," the clock Ghost--Clockwork?--speaks up. But instead of the adult Dick was expecting, there was an elderly Ghost in their place. Still with the time motif. Was that... more literal than Dick took it?

"Yes, the second option..." The crowned man glares daggers at Clockwork. The temperature dips below comfortable. Dick tries to blink the spaceship and stars out of his sight, withdrawing his arms from Wally to try and warm himself. Tries to remember he's not in space. "The second option is that you return to your body... changed. You'll be able to protect Earth better, stay with your alive family, save the Lost Ones... for a price."

Dick doesn't know if he should ignore the plural in 'Lost Ones'. He doesn't know if he's reading too much into how, in this Realm, apparently only his parents were able to be found. Where's Jason? He doesn't dare hope, but...

"What's the price?"

The man smiles and a ring of blue forms around his waist. It splits in two and travels up and down his body, replacing the cloak and whatever clothes he was actually wearing with a NASA shirt, worn jeans, and red sneakers actually duct taped together. The blue tint to his otherwise tan skin fades completely. His hair turns black. His eyes turn blue.

He was like a taller, slightly slimmer, way hotter version of Bruce.

The man walks through the bubble, but doesn't disturb the grass beneath his feet. "You become the Ghost King's vassal." Dick flinches away and almost hides behind Wally. "Not my idea! But, well... it is either this, or your permanent death."

"What does becoming a vassal do to him?" Wally asks, gently trying to stop Dick from breaking his ribs with how tightly he was hugging himself. Does he even have ribs?

"He gains my powers. Ice, electricity, invisibility, intangibility, flight... He becomes a Halfa. He becomes what I was, in life. Just... needing to make offerings to me, now and then. Something like that, at least. I give him powers, he gives me a chunk of, I don't know, chocolate once a week. Like a warlock."

Wally keeps talking to the man, keeps getting information that he knows he should pay attention to, but something in his chest screams to accept this deal, and he can't focus on anything else.

Nightwing can protect. He can return to life and go back to Blüdhaven, be the Vigilante they need. He can visit Gotham every now and then, help with cases and stop criminals from harming others. He can see his brother. He can see his friends. He can eat Alfred's cookies, and have little get-togethers with Babs and the Team--hell, he can argue with Bruce.

And all he has to do is... give an offering to this guy? The Ghost King? Every once in a while?

"There's no other price?" The King turns his attention to Dick. His eyes had shifted to a blue-green that almost hypnotize him. The green swirls, the blue forms and melts like snowflakes, and he can't look away.

He takes another step forward and Wally steps to the side. There was familiarity between them. Wally deferred to him. Dick can't quite tell why. Though, with how Wally hasn't once looked at Clockwork, maybe it's because he's... grounded? Are all speedsters in trouble with, what, the Ghost of Time? That... actually makes perfect sense.

"I'll be honest, Nightwing: You've impressed me." The weight behind the King's words lifts the ones that've been on his shoulders since he was nine. "You remind me of myself. Maybe, if I wasn't a Halfa... If I had a mentor... I could've been like you.

"Despite Clockwork's insistence over the years that I get back in touch with the living, I've held off. When he eventually suggested that I help create another Halfa, I locked him in his tower for twenty years. I didn't want anyone to go through what I had. But, now... I see that you won't. You can't. Even if you hide this deal--our shared powers... You'll still have people by your side. Strong people. Smart people. You can already handle yourself. And I'd love to see what you can do--who you can save--with my help."

There was maybe two inches between their faces when the King finishes speaking. Dick roves his eyes across the other's face, trying to find the common and familiar ticks that show lies and deceit and manipulation. All he finds is sincerity and genuine care.

Wally plays with his fingers from the corner of his eye, gaze hopeful as he looks between the two of them. Wally, who was alive and breathing and able to leave if he accepts. Eventually. Somehow.

Dick Grayson sends a quiet apology to his parents and hopes they will forgive him for being a little bit selfish.

"I accept."

He flings his eyes open. Above him, domino mask too wobbly to be properly secured anymore, was Robin crying and begging him to wake up. His hands were sloppily placed over his heart. Batman was trying to drag him away, the firm set of his jaw screaming grief.

Nightwing gasps once he registers his lungs burning.

There's a large cacophony of noise, multiple bright suits and people hounding over him, and the distinct artificial taste of slightly-too-much oxygen that the ship with the Parademons had. That he flew out of and died. He was still too cold.

Someone moves their arm beneath his knees and shoulder and Dick passes out.

(Dick 'Nightwing' Grayson dies in space. Ghost King Danny Phantom likes this too-human Hero. They split their souls in half, take one piece of the others, and all they know is that Phantom is now Nightwing's Patron Deity. Danny uses ice, for electricity killed him. Dick uses electricity, for ice killed him. They are opposites, and yet so incredibly similar. Clockwork was looking forward to when Danny starts putting off his paperwork to hang out with his new 'friend'.)

[waitineedaname]

I think the Bradleys are unintentionally the funniest part of fmab. Wrath is the leader of a country but King is his first name, not his title. His adopted ten year old son is actually at least 350 years old and his oldest brother. Mrs. Bradley somehow seems unaware that her son does not age or get injured. Pride is so scary and fucked up that even other homunculi don't like him, but he apparently goes to school like a normal little boy and writes essays on how cool and awesome his dad is. Wrath and Pride both hate humans but they both agree that Mrs. Bradley is pretty great. When they die, Wrath ages several decades in like seconds, and Pride gets turned into a fetus. What the fuck is up with them

[everysongineverykey]

very pleased to report that i tried literally counting sheep last night and got my first full night's sleep in like a week in a long period of sleepless nights!!

[skellydun]

said the sentence "I've been really getting into apples lately" out loud to another person today like that's a normal thing to admit and add to a conversation

[sillygoofyqueer]

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

[guplia]

Okay so while rewatching season 7 I have suddenly gained a new respect for it lol

I love how despite being villains, Krux and Acronix still love each other and that Krux waited 40 years for his brother to return!

I also find it funny that Acronix travelled 40 years ahead in time, and from his point of view, his brother became old in a matter of seconds and nothing is the same anymore. But instead of being sad about it he loves the future! And technology!

The vermilion warriors are gross, lol. Ngl I felt sorry for Cyrus Borg in this scene:

If I were in his place I would literally die of shock. I would just ask Machia to kill me otherwise. Or maybe I would throw up.

But yeah! The time twins are cool and so is season 7!

[talaricula]

I'm seeing lots of speculation in the wake of the unwanted guest about whether absorbing Loveday's soul is what made Cytherea snap and sure, I see the theory, but personally as a cancer survivor I have never ever questioned why Cytherea snapped

Cancer is an existentially terrifying, often debilitatingly painful and/or exhausting illness, that, if not cured, takes over your body bit by bit, gets into the highly essential bits which increases the suffering and/or fundamentally changes you as a person, makes you extremely vulnerable and dependent on others, and almost inevitably kills you unless you get it when you're old enough and die of old age first instead. Its treatment is often just as painful and exhausting as the illness, or even more so, and doesn't always work. When you have cancer, there are two ways out: being cured (preferable) or, when that is not an option, deciding for yourself when you have reached the point where the suffering is so bad and the outlook so non existent that you would rather die now rather than later after even more and worse suffering.

And John took both of those options away from Cytherea and from her entire line of descendants. When he had the option to cure them all all along. Idk about y'all but the revelation in Nona that John could cure cancer was the number one earth shattering realisation for me. He did this to her, and to the entire Seventh House, on purpose.

This is the first giant betrayal to me. For generation after generation, for TEN THOUSAND YEARS, this man let the heirs of the Seventh House be sick for functionally their entire lives, likely starting in childhood, go through an incalculable amount of painful and exhausting experimental treatments bc he didn't even bring modern medicine into his New Order, and die in their twenties or thirties at best, when he could have STOPPED THIS ALL ALONG with little more effort than snapping his fingers.

Second big betrayal is towards Cytherea herself, but basically the same point : he could have cured her at any time. Before she became Lyctor, possibly, since we're not sure how static Lyctor bodies are, but Mercy's powers, Harrow's lobotomy and Ianthe's arm suggest that it would have been an option afterwards too. And he didn't. He let her have cancer for TEN THOUSAND years without curing her. And he calls himself her friend. Absolutely fuck that bastard.

Third big betrayal is the same betrayal that he inflicts on all the other Lyctors, but imo worse bc of Cytherea's illness. It seems from the books that Lyctors are, if obv not functionally immortal, at least Very Difficult to kill. Consequently, John demands Cytherea's loyalty not only in the form of killing the person she loves the most in the world, but in the very same act, in the form of cutting off the One escape route she has left out of the suffering he's purposefully keeping her in. In short, he takes the one person away from her who she perhaps doesn't resent depending on and, in the same act, makes it A Lot more difficult for her to choose euthanasia. (There's meta in this about the deeply realistic and also Terrifying ableism of John "admits openly that he'll pay any price so the people he loves can't leave him" making his sick friend dependent on him by keeping her sick, taking away her (arguable) main caretaker and cutting her off from the option of leaving him by dying.)

And at the same time that the other Lyctors realise John's betrayal re: their cavaliers, Cytherea potentially realises ALL OF THIS. TEN THOUSAND years of suffering, of seeing her House suffer, on top of losing the person she cares about the most, and ALL OF IT was avoidable, and not just avoidable but EASY TO AVOID? Is it any wonder she went on a rampage to bring down John and everything he cared about and had worked towards, and that she didn't care about dying at the end (or, perhaps, was even counting on that outcome)? I had cancer (as an aware adult) for a year in the best imaginable circumstances and am still fucked up about almost a decade later. After TEN THOUSAND YEARS and learning there had been another option all along, I'd have done WAY WORSE than Cytherea. I really don't think she needed to absorb anyone's soul to get there. It is, in my opinion, a deeply understandable and realistic reaction.

[wilson-is-a-slut]

per hilson, house would have 100% told wilson get the bed he wanted, but would he have knowingly let wilson get the water bed?? a bed that’s not good for anyone’s back (or bum leg for that matter) and one that wilson didn’t keep in the original timeline anyways

wilson would have told house he wanted the water bed, but would house have been “ok let’s see how this plays out, I’ve been is worse pain before” or “fuck that, my leg won’t be able to put up with a water bed”?

I still can’t get the “bad wilson is the water bed” quote out of my brain and I’m wondering to what effect hilson would have had on the water bed

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

What was Lights out! Frank's reaction to crazy ass Lights out! Wally?

ah i wouldn't call him crazy, Wally's just desensitized to the Horrors and acts accordingly. which is occasionally a little unhinged. but no yeah Frank has a proper freakout <3 he has a hard time adjusting to certain aspects of.... everything. including Wally yeah

(don't bother trying to read this i know its terrible handwriting lmao, it's p much just to show Frank's spiral <3)

[silusvesuius]

watched the pota triology recently and enjoyed it a lot n///n ; assorted ape fanart

[disposal-blueeee]

doodles

edgar vargas and squee by johnen vasquez

scriabin by zarla-s

[measlyscrapofseafood]

tronzler/ram dynamic to me

[lloydfrontera]

In my opinion, the reason the reunion scene was skipped was because the author couldn’t figure out a way to write it non-romantically and gave up after a while

honestly. i kinda agree with you nonnie.

it just. the set up to the scene is sooooo romantic. you have lloyd being absolutely devastated at the thought he's not going to see any of his loved ones ever again and that he's been dropped back into his terrible life, to the place he admitted he'd rather die than go back to,,, and then someone knocks at the door and when he opens it this is the sight that greets him:

his best friend, the person he's closest to, the one he's spent years with, the one he promised a peaceful life at his side, the one he wanted to grow old with, the one he sacrificed everything for, the one he effectively gave his life to save, the one he thought he'd never see again, standing at his door, having crossed literal dimensional barriers to get to him, a soft and teary smile on his face as he tells him "i missed you"

like. c'mon.

i'm all for platonic interpretations, i'm aroace, i love me a good best friendship as much as the next guy, but,,,, isn't this,,, like,,, really fucking romantic??? extremely so??? am i??? reading too much into it?? because it feels really, really romantic to me.

and like you say. where do you go from there. what response could lloyd give that doesn't involve throwing himself at javier and clinging to him with all of his strength. what conversation could these two have that doesn't involve them seeing how truly devoted they are to each other. what resolution does their arc together have that isn't them spending the rest of their lives together, at each other's side, like they so dearly wanted to.

but. alas. that wasn't the story bk moon wanted to tell. and that's very much his right. i just think that if he didn't want me to assume there's no in-character and narratively satisfying version of that conversation that doesn't end with them kissing he should've at least tried to give us something. and not completely skipped it lol

but that's just my opinion too :]

[fogwitchoftheevermore]

(context for watcher/listener!sausage can be found in the “videos” tag on my blog if you want it, but this ficlet can be read without said context)

- - -

“Y’know, of all the Hermits I was expecting to be pulling me into a dark corner tonight, I did not expect you to be first, Grian! I love the initiative!”

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that,” Grian says in a voice near a hiss. He’s got Sausage by the wrist, leading him into a small area of the upper floor of the tavern in Sanctaury that does look like it was built for the exact purpose Sausage is implying. Grian decides to ignore that as well.

“What are you doing here?” Grian’s straight to the point. He always has to be, with these Things, if he doesn’t want to get trapped in a loop of slant rhyming pleasantries.

“What do you mean?” Sausage asks, shaking his wrist out of Grian’s tight grip and leaning comfortably against the wall. “This is where I live. It’s my home. If anything, I should be asking you mysterious strangers what you’re doing here, but I’m sure you’ve heard that question enough for one day.”

“You know exactly what I mean.” Grian crosses his arms and tries his best not to look petulant, but he sure feels like it. “I thought They’d given up on trying to snatch me back, so why would They send you of all people? What’s your game?”

Sausage laughs, honest to god laughs, like he can’t believe Grian’s even asking him such a question. Grian thinks it’s a reasonable question, in this scenario, but what he thinks and what’s reasonable rarely seems to matter with these things.

“They didn’t send me,” Sausage looks him up and down in that way that makes Grian have to physically stop himself from curling inwards. This is why he never talks to Them. “Nobody sends me anywhere, they don’t tell me what to do and I like it that way! I just do my own thing. Isn’t that what you’re doing?”

“No you’re not! You’re not- you can’t be! That’s not how this works!” Grian begins to notice that he’s no longer whisper-shouting and starting to just-normal-shout and takes a deep breath, trying not to draw the attention of his friends enjoying themselves on the floor below. And, realistically, in the other dark corners Sausage seems to have built into this place.

“That’s exactly how this works. You didn’t think you were the only person who’d left, did you?”

Grian opens his mouth, closes it, and thinks. In hindsight… yeah, he had kind of assumed he’d been the only person who’d left. Not for lack of trying, probably- but They’d tried for so long to get him back, kept him closely surveilled even when They’d accepted he was gone- surely some people had caved to that pressure eventually. When there was no sign They’d ever let up, ever let you go… he could understand eventually letting it overtake you.

“Did- did you leave, too?” Grian doesn’t remember the last time he saw Sausage’s face. He didn’t know him back then, of course. He probably would’ve connected the man with the person Pearl so often spoke about sooner. But he knows it’s been a long time, maybe even longer than the last time Grian had gone There. He doesn’t think Sausage had been There, that day. This might explain why.

“Eh, not quite?”

“What-“ Grian flails, both mentally and with his arms a bit. “What do you mean not quite?”

“Exactly what I said! I was never- it’s complicated, y’know?”

“Explain. Now.”

“Well, uh,” Sausage seems to flounder for the first time since this conversation started, which Grian is choosing to take as a victory. “Look, I wasn’t- they didn’t pick me. For this, or for anything, ever. Sometimes things just happen and you get yourself into a place you shouldn’t have and then… they can’t get rid of me, I can’t get rid of them, it is what it is.”

Grian stares at him for a long moment. Really stares at him, in the same way Sausage had looked him over earlier, in the same way that makes you feel like you’re under a microscope. Judging by the sudden nerves in his eyes, Grian can assume he feels it too. Grian remembers his face. That had been the first thing he’d noticed, when the Hermits had arrived. It had been a long time since they’d seen each other, but Grian knew his face. And now that Grian was studying him, really trying to remember… he’s not sure he quite likes what memories he’s dredging up.

“What are you?”

“Grian!” Sausage’s voice drips with mock offense as he puts his hand up to partially cover his mouth. “We only just met, do you think that’s polite?”

“Answer the question,” Grian sighs. How Pearl deals with this man on the regular, he doesn’t know.

“Well, if you insist.” Sausage sighs, somehow even more exaggerated than his previous movements. “It’s just… if you’ll believe it, it’s somehow even harder to answer the first question.”

“It shouldn’t be,” Grian says. “They’re two very different People, you know.”

“But they’re the same species, when it all comes down to it. Like, you might be very different than a chicken, but you’re both birds in the long run.”

Grian pauses, fanning his wings out a bit behind him as he considers. “I don’t think that metaphor’s quite landing the way you want it to.”

“No, me neither. Anyways, let me continue.

When they don’t pick you, things go a little differently! You don’t get sorted onto one side or the other since, well, you’re not really supposed to be there? So I’m… whatever I want to be, really. I think I’m feeling like more of a Listener, today, but we’ll see how the mood shifts.”

Grian flinches at the Name, on instinct. He doesn’t know how to feel about that, so he files it away to be dealt with at a later date. As for the rest of what Sausage said-

“What?”

“You heard me.” Sausage shrugs. He’s so nonchalant, Grian thinks he might strangle him, if not for the worry that that’s exactly what he wants out of this, somehow.

“Did I? Did I hear you?” Grian wants to pace, but that requires leaving the security of the corner, so he forces his feet to root themselves to the floor. “I thought- I thought you had to- if you wanted to change sides, I thought you had to-“

Grian closes one eye and takes his thumb to it, twisting the finger into his eyelid. The gesture seems to get the point across.

“Well, that’s the funny thing about this, actually.” From the way he’s been talking, Grian assumed Sausage thought this whole thing was funny. He restrains himself from saying that out loud if only so Sausage will finish his explanation.

Sausage reaches up to his left eye, pulls his eye lid back a bit, and unceremoniously pops out his prosthetic eye.

“All these processes and rituals actually have a lot of loopholes.”

Grian doesn’t know what face he’s making, but it’s enough to make Sausage giggle while he pops the eye back in. Because of course he does. Because this how his day is going, apparently. Walk through a weird portal in his basement and wake up in a world filled with his friends who don’t recognize him and also a guy he only ever saw There, who he was never supposed to see again. Sure. Of course he’s laughing about it. Grian thinks if he was a slightly different person, he’d be laughing too. It is, undeniably, absurd.

“Well, I think we’re done here then!” Grian would probably object if he weren’t so shocked about the loopholes. As it is, he just stands there a bit stupidly.

Sausage turns away to return to the party before turn around again for just a moment, reaching over, and ruffling Grian’s hair. That shocks him enough to shake him out of his stupor and swat Sausage’s hand away, though not before his hair is suitably messed up.

“What was that for?!”

Sausage smiles as he reaches up to rough up his own hair as well. “I assumed you didn’t want your friends asking questions about why you were dragging me into a dark corner, you know?” Sausage even goes far enough to pull his shirt a bit out of where it’s tucked into his pants, because of course he does. Grian tries not to cringe, but Sausage is right about this one thing. It is the easiest way to dodge any questions about where he’d gone off to- at the expense of the many knowing looks and teasing remarks he’ll be getting from the other Hermits instead.

“Have a good night, Grian!” Sausage calls over his shoulder as he turns to leave for real this time. “And remember, drinks are on me for all you guests tonight! You look like you need it.”

[dandelion-roots]

yes i did fanart of my own fic it's called self love (here is the fic)

Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

[ID: a digital, sketchy comic of sklonda and pok from fantasy high in four pictures. in the first, a beer glass is in the middle, and around it snippets of sklonda's thoughts. one is of her doing paperwork, another of her holding her head, another hectic one of a gun, her looking back and her terrified eye, and the last one of her face angry. in the second, sklonda is sitting at the bar and looking to the left as someone off screen says, is this seat free? on the other side of the bar are the bartender's legs and an ominous shadow extending from them. in the third, pok is leaning with one arm on the bar and looking flirtily; the hand on the bar is fidgeting, and the other is in his pocket. in panels next to it, sklonda looks him up and down with a neutral expression. in the fourth, pok smiles cutely and sklonda finally returns the smile, motioning to the barstool next to her and saying, as you can see. End ID]