#anyway thank you for tagging me this was fun!

[nyc-pizza-rat]

saw @bloodydeanwinchester's tags on this post so

*TW: SUICIDE IDEATION TYPICALLY DISCUSSED IN RELATION TO THIS EPISODE PLS TAKE CARE OF YOURSELVES*

dean's always hated being stabbed. god, he'd have taken a bullet to his head over this any day. what's one last thing that doesn't go his way, he thinks.

it's uncomfortable, is the thing. the hurt, he'll take it. it's nothing he doesn't deserve, nothing he hasn't had before. but the feeling of metal slicing your innards, it's a bitch of a thing. you can never get used to it.

Atleast, he thinks, Sam's here. Atleast, he's able to say goodbye. Atleast he's not alone.

His nerves are all alight, pain painting him bright from the inside, but dean can feel the finality of this burst. it's all too fast and too slow, all at once. dean thinks about being four and the sharp sunlight waking him in his room, his sheets with hot wheels on them. he thinks about baby's headlights shining through thin motel curtains. thinks about....about angels and gods and all that blue light behind his own eyes. he thinks if this is how.. how cas felt, when dean had been stupid and cowardly , when he'd let Lucifer get to him, that night in Washington. he wonders if his soul feels like this too, all sharp angels and live current. he wonders what cas ever saw in him, why he ever tried to save him, even in hell. wishes he could see him, one last time. that wouldn't have been all that terrible.

Still, he thinks. Sam's here. Sam's here. Sam's okay.

he jolts into himself, and realizes that he's been talking, that he's been saying something to sam. he doesn't even know. dean is unraveling. he can feel his body emptying, the slickness of blood at his back.

he grabs at his brother, fists a hand in his chest. Sam's face is twisted in sorrow. Fuck. I love you, little guy, he thinks. then, fuck, don't let me go. i don't want to go. shit's never happened the way he wanted it to, but this is something else. Atleast. well, atleast he's gonna end up in the empty. that's what Billie promised him, right? Atleast he'll be with cas.

Still, Still. he's only human, and he's drowning in his own blood, can smell it, can taste it, it's everywhere, it's —

"I need you to.... to tell me... that it's okay," he says, and his voice comes out trembling, panicked. terrified. God. "I need you to tell me that it's okay."

his brother turns away from him, and dean can't hear him over the ringing in his ears, but he knows the stubborn bastard, the way his shoulders lift. God. God. Cas.

"Look at me," he pleads. "I need... I need..." he can't breathe. god, he can't breathe. "Please, Sam. I need you to tell me that it's okay."

Sam's face swims to the front of his line of sight, all warped like it's on the other side of a fishbowl. dean clutches at his brother harder. tries to, anyway. he's so tired. he's so fucking tired.

his fingers slip.

Something warm, and sam holds him in place.

"Dean...," and in another world, dean would've made fun of the blubbering mess he's become. would've teased him for caring so much about his stupid older brother. "it's okay. It's okay. i— I got you."

it's crazy, dean thinks, that it helps. the tone of his brother's voice. his face, even warped and cracking open with grief. dean raised this kid, and it was a bitch of a job, and man, did he hate it at times, but look at sam now. he did good. he did so good. he did —

dean goes under like he's being put to sleep. almost easy, almost soft. Thanks, he thinks, the last coherent thought in his head. Thanks, kid.

~

He wakes up on a road. The sun shines down bright like it's the start of summer, and there's this pleasant warmth in the air. the world around him is golden, stretching into the horizon on flat land where it meets the brown mounds of the black hills. dean blinks up at the mountains, a strange chill crawling down his spine.

"You're here early," a familiar voice says, and dean turns to find himself standing in front of Bobby's porch. light's drenched this whole place, too, making the wood panelling look blond. Bobby's fucking smiling. Shit. Shit.

dean's starting to feel disoriented, almost.

"And what's 'here' supposed to be, exactly?"

Bobby frowns, his smile slipping. he looks at dean like he's a right fool. "Heaven, dean," he says. "where else'd you think you'd go?"

dean thought.... Fuck. there's a strange emptiness pushing at the inside of dean's skin. he feels like he's been put together upside down. Billie.... Billie....

Billie's in the empty, and fuck. maybe grudges don't get passed down to the new death. fuck. fuck.

Dean stumbles to the porch steps, crumples on them when he can't go further. Absently, he's aware of Bobby moving behind him, the creaking of his rocking chair, his footsteps on the wood.

he stares out at the grass, the outline of the mountains, the clear blue sky. it's beautiful. it's nothing. it's empty. fuck. fuck. what the hell is dean supposed to do now. without — what the hell is he supposed to do?!

Bobby's hand is warm on his shoulder. dean feels small, the way he leans into it, the way he kinda wants to cry.

"what's wrong, dean?" Bobby asks, and his voice is all wrong , like he's tried to scrape the gruffness out of it and badly. dean could laugh. but. fuck. fuck.

why the hell is he here? why is he here?!

he swallows. shit's never really gone his way in life, so why would it in death? he swallows again. says, "i don't know, Bobby."

Me, he thinks. I'm what's wrong.

"i don't know."

[its-robyn]

Well okay, so i've been getting in to rope bondage lately with some online tutorials, but when i went to the sex shop to get more rope turns out there are people in my area who teach regular classes for rope bondage!

So now o'm learning the proper basics with the single colum and double colum, as well as the larks head tie (which is great to start with if your self tying as you can hold reverse tension with one hand and continue the wrap with the other). Also hitches, which i've learned a few of but am still figuring out how to know when to us which, other than a cross hitch which is good to keep the rope in place and not sliding, but i don't think i'm doing them right tbh.

Anyaways you can put those all together to make harness which if done right an tight, you can suspend people with, though i am far from that(unless someone wants to suspend me :3). I can do one or two harnesses, but they don't come out strong/tight enough that it wouldn't be risky to suspend and might affect nerves or circulation.

Anyway, i've really been enjoying self tying, and was surprised to find it much more relaxing and meditative than just hot. It really brings in your focus as you move the rope with your hands and feel the sensation as it press against your skin. Once it's did a feeling of being secure sets in with a calm sense.

Really liking it, and all you need is rope!!

Tell me about your hyperfixation while I pose dramatically beside you.

[aspynnwoofs]

Um. hi. your fanart of Marcy waking up from a nightmare is probably my favorite piece of Amphibia fanart ever. curious what was going through your head when you made it. also what are your headcannons/thoughts about The Core, Marcy, what she experienced while under its control, and its lasting effects on her?

holy shit dude, thanks? i don’t know what i did to deserve all this nice stuff you’re saying, but thanks. also the tags on the reblog were not aggressive or mean or anything, they actually made me super happy to see! i’m really glad you like it.

coming back after writing all the stuff, there’s a lot so i’m putting a ‘keep reading’ thing. seriously there’s so much

what was going through my head… hm. it’s like, i imagine Marcy having lots of nightmares about things that happened to her, or things that could have happened, stuff like that. i’ve read a lot of fanfic so now i really like the idea of her clutching her shirt when remembering being impaled. or even just for comfort, to know that her weakest point is covered in moments of terror. also she’s crying. sobbing. the only times she recovers quickly after bad nightmares is when she’s with the others.

i really like the idea of the Core not only sticking her in a box in her mind, but also showing her things. like to keep her from trying to get out. can’t resist if your mind is shattered and devoid of hope! anyway i mean like using the illusions to show her various things, situations, people. more peaceful ones where she’s with her girls, only to realize they aren’t there. terrifying ones where they make her live through her worst memories, her betrayal (of her and by her), her death, her torture and possession. twisted situations where Anne and Sasha proclaim that they can’t be seen with her, they can’t trust her, even hate her for what she’s done. sometimes the Core sticks her in unending darkness so they don’t have to think of anything, or if they’re focused on something else and need her out of the way (this is where the thing about being unable to sleep or feel safe in complete darkness is from). sometimes they’ll make a fake scene where it seems as though she is being shown what her body is doing, she can see through her eyes, and then she hurts people. kills people. sometimes it will be real, but she doesn’t know that, and she will still hurt people. when whoever in the Core in charge of her is feeling particularly cruel, they’ll do a simulation of her being saved. rescued. freed. forgiven. she’s finally with her girls. but. she isn’t. she’s still here. of course they didn’t save her, why would they? she’s a horrible person, and she did so much unforgivable stuff? why would they ever want to save someone like her? (shit this is long, yeesh. well i’m having fun soo-) sometimes Anne and Sasha kill her as she’s possessed, because she needs out of the way, and her life doesn’t matter anyway. sometimes they free her and then take their fury at her out on her by hurting her.

recovery from that is incredibly hard. when she’s rescued, she doesn’t believe it. firmly denies it, hides from them, tries to keep them from hurting her, curls into a ball and refuses to acknowledge them. because they aren’t real, they aren’t. hasn’t she been through this enough? it takes the others a while to convince her she’s in reality, and that yes, they do really forgive her. she’s actually completely free.

later in life she has trouble discerning reality from her nightmares. she has insane trust issues. she can’t walk, not by herself. she’s terrified of fire, because fire is what impaled her, killed her, and fire is the color of the eyes that haunt her. a small zap of static electricity is enough to send her into a flashback of her possession, of the chair, of fire and lightning and code flowing into her, burning burning burning. once someone tried to calm her by grabbing her wrists, which only sent her further. the cuffs. they chained her down. she can’t move she can’t move! the color orange makes her nervous, if there’s too much of it she half convinced they’ve taken over somehow and tinted her vision the color of her nightmares. (looking at this you’d really think i’d be able to write something. i should write something) sudden complete darkness, such as someone turning off a light without warning, has her half believing whatever just happened wasn’t real, that the Core got bored and stuck her in the darkness. sound and small lights can help her come back to reality. sound because the Core wouldn’t let sound into their void, that would defeat the point! and small lights because if it all comes back quickly it just means the simulation has been turned back on. better to show her something small but concrete. Anne and Sasha have gotten really good at realizing when she needs a reality check, and then knowing her to ground her. (btw she doesn’t move away because i need her to have a support system. she might actually go crazy if she’s separated from her friends) ( whAT THE FUCk-?? this is so long! i need to wrap up! holy shiiiit) Marcy likes to hold their hands to help her remember where she is. physical touch is very grounding. the Core could never get it right so it’s even more so. after some nightmares she flinches from touch, so other things are needed, but once she’s returned from the hell in her mind she needs touch. sometimes weighted blankets help to ground her when she feels as though she might almost float away, sometimes they chain her down and trap her beneath the weight of all her mistakes.

there’s probably more, but if i kept going i’ll just have written a whole ass fic in an ask answer. hope you liked it! if not idk what i can give you (you’ll like it, because it’s great)

i don’t think i’ve ever written things out like things before, i should do that more. it helped to have specific questions, so thanks man i guess? heh.

[ohhgingersnaps]

Last line challenge!! Tagged by @mysticmikalla

“Yeah, it was just an issue with the cable jack again.” Maru sets the amp beside his guitar stand, and he leans down to inspect it. “I also switched out the electron tubes, which I think should solve the crackling problem, but let me know if it doesn’t.”

I know I'm gonna miss some people here but: @floopthecooper @coolcoolglasses @iamthepulta @memento-mariii @bodhimcbodeface @jedi-valjean @kingedmundsroyalmurder @blackcoffeewrites63 (no pressure y'all)

And you! Yes, you! If you see this and would like to join in the fun, consider yourself tagged :)

[algoreithms]

(rob zombie voice) living dead girlllllll

kinda sorta follow-up doodles to this, frankenmandy feat. lynn lavenza for funsies

[authenticcadence18]

RIGHT??? it’s such a silly thing to complain about bc AO3 is a free website. Thankfully I am so over this (frankly i find it kinda funny). And I agree!! I didn’t tag any characters or ships needlessly I followed the rules and added extra stuff. (And also like. Within the context of pnf fandom there’s not enough fic to be picky about tags🤣🤣)

Thank you so so much for sharing that that just warms my heart!!!!!!! I think of your fics often too they are. the best (and I saw you posted a new one I’m so excited to check it out !!!!)

welp apparently someone on Reddit is talking shit about my tags ans the post has over 5k votes and nearly 400 comments and that’s why I’ve been getting rude comments on my fic 🥰🥰

thanks Reddit thank you!!!!!!! thank you for taking a FOUR YEAR OLD FIC and tearing 20 yr old me’s excited tags to shreds!!!! thanks!!!! thanks for that!!!!! THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!!!!!

[800db-cloud]

i’ve been wanting to do this since day one

[fantasykiri5]

RIZ “THE BALL” GUKGAK EVERYBODY 👏👏👏👏👏

(Transparent vers under the cut)

[raiiny-bay]

some WIPs from the 80s AU i never finished

[glassedplanets]

a few months ago giffy was like "haha hear me out, what if tattoo au" and then we blacked out and talked about nothing else for like three weeks

[hailsatanacab]

I'll ask after that secret number 8!

I only remembered secret number 8 because I saw your wip here! I'd started this one based on the same prompt, then lost said prompt and stopped working on it 😅

Instead of a snippet, I'm just dropping it all here - maybe that way I'll feel inspired to finish it?

———

It’s a full house for dinner tonight and, really, that should have tipped him off.

Bruce sits at the head of the table, smiling softly as he watches over everyone’s antics. Damian is regaling Dick with everything they saw at the zoo that day (Danny had been so happy to see Delilah the purpleback gorilla again, and her new little additions to the troupe, too!) and how well they are implementing the grant the Wayne Foundation had gifted them. Tim, Steph, Cass, and Duke are all engaged in a thumb-war tournament which Danny has no interest in participating in. It just wouldn’t be fair on them.

Danny loves that look. The one where Bruce’s eyes crinkle when he thinks none of the kids can see him. It oozes love and it makes Danny’s heart, his core, ache. 

It’s been a little over a year since Alfred found him on the street and managed to wrangle him back to the manor to stay—even after the whole biting thing when he realised how rich they were. 

A little over a year here and Danny’s starting to feel like family.

Starting to feel like he might, just maybe, like to make it official.

“Danny,” Bruce says, drawing everyone’s attention. Danny starts at his name, but Bruce’s voice is warm and calm, and his shoulders lose their tension almost immediately. “Danny, I have something I would like to tell you.”

“Uhhh…” is all Danny can croak out, eyes flicking back and forth between Bruce and the rest of them. Smooth. Looking good, Danny.

Except… they’re all happy. All smiles, all relaxed body language, all radiating calm and love and acceptance. Well, not Damian—his face is as thunderous as it always is—which at least means it’s nothing too out of the ordinary.

“Danny, first of all, I just want to impress upon you that this is in no way something you have to do. You are under no obligation to join us and, no matter what, you shall always be welcome with us in the manor.”

Wait, what? Danny squints at Bruce, trying to parse exactly what he’s saying… Is he—is this them asking to adopt him? Do they want to make it official, too? 

It’s been a little over a year and of course Danny has imagined calling Bruce ‘Dad’. Of course he’s imagined being part of the family, of course he wants to make it official!

He can’t help the beaming grin or the bright and bubbling “Yes!” already waiting on his lips. All Bruce has to do is ask, all Danny needs to hear is—

“I’m Batman.”

The smile freezes on Danny’s face.

His lungs stop working, his heart stops working, he stops working, he just—

“And I’m Nightwing,” Dick smiles, breaking the awkward silence. 

Danny’s eyes snap to him, and then down to Tim when he admits to being Red Robin. Duke is Signal, Steph is Spoiler. Damian begrudgingly tells him he’s Robin, but Danny can barely hear it over the ringing in his ears.

“I’m Black Bat.” Cass cocks her head, almost looking concerned. It always felt like she understood him the most. Whenever he was feeling low, too in his memories, or stewing after a nightmare, she was always there, ready to card her fingers through his hair and never mention his tears. It makes his heart ache to think of it now. “It’s okay, Danny.”

It’s meant to be reassuring, but how—how can it be okay? How? 

Danny’s spent a little over a year with them. A little over a year with Batman. 

Batman, who works with the Justice League, who works with…

A little over a year. 

Just under 16 months since he escaped.

“Danny? Are you alright?” Bruce asks

Finally, his lungs kickstart and suck in a shuddering breath, only for everyone to drop their smiles.

Didn’t take them long, did it? Now that their ruse is up, there’s no kindness in their eyes, they’re just… cold, calculating. Evaluating. 

“Why?” Danny gasps, his fingers tingling, his heart in his throat.

Just under 16 months since he—has he escaped? Or was this just another one of their experiments?

"I... I trusted you, why—" Danny chokes back a sob, gritting his teeth as his shoulders shake. Why? Why would they do this? "I was happy here, with you. I thought... Weren't you happy?"

"Danny..." Bruce is looking at him, eyes narrow and eyebrows pinched, in some cruel facsimile of confused concern and all Danny can think is how much of an actor he is. How well he can play the part of a doting father. How much he made him want that.

"I don't understand, why..." 

"I'm sorry we didn't tell you before, I can imagine that it comes as a shock. We shouldn't have lied to you, Danny, but—"

"Stop it!" Danny slams his hands down on the table and pushes himself up on wobbly legs. Even standing, he feels so small. Smaller than Bruce, than all of his adopted siblings. They crowd above him when they all stand, too. "Just stop it! Why are you doing this, why are you still pretending? Stop it!"

It was easier, with Danny's biological parents. The knowledge that they'd do anything to get him on a lab table, to open him up and see what makes him tick, to rip him apart molecule by molecule, had always been there. He knew they hated ghosts. He knew they hated Phantom. He knew they hated him. It was easier because it was something he'd known all his life. When he died, when he became a ghost, he knew what to expect from them. It hurt, of course it did.

But it was easier than this.

"Danny, I'm going to need you to take a deep breath. You're having a panic attack and you need to breathe."

"Breathe?" Danny laughs, the sound harsh and choking, too high pitched in his hysteria. "You're joking, right? Or is this just more of the—the experiment?"

"Danny, please, we don't know what you're talking about, you—"

"You don't know? You're Batman! You work with the Justice League, you work with—" His words choke off as his stomach churns, bile rising in his throat. His whole body itches, screaming at him to leave, he can't go back, he can't, he can't, he can't!

Bruce takes a hesitant step forward and Danny scrambles back, his feet catching on the chair behind him and sending him careening to the floor. Where are the agents? Why aren't they swarming in, ready to apprehend him, strap him back on the table, carve him from the inside out.

"Please, Danny, calm down. We don't—"

Danny stops listening. His back hits the wall and he pulls his knees into his chest, his shoulders dipping down as he begins to sob. His heart throbs inside his throat, too painful to swallow around. Tears fall hot and heavy on his face.

Sure, he could run. He could phase out through the wall and he could be out of Gotham in a couple of hours. He's escaped the GIW once, he can do it again.

But that was before Batman knew who he was. Before he had the World's Greatest Detective on his tail.

Before he... 

He really thought this would be different, you know?

He wanted to make it official.

"Why did... Why were you so nice to me? Why did you make me like you? I really—I really liked you. I-I thought we could be a family."

"Danny, we are a—"

"Don't lie to me!" Danny snaps, but the force of his anger leeches all the fight from him, and suddenly all that's left is a bone-weary tiredness. There’s a lump in his throat that hurts. There’s a line down his chest that burns. "I don't care. I don't care anymore, I don't. Just... don't make me go back there. Please." 

Is it futile? He thought he knew how the GIW operated by now, the depths that they would go to achieve their results, but this... this was a whole new level of pain that Danny thought he had left behind him in Amity.

"We're not going to make you go anywhere, Danny, you're safe here, I promise."

"Safe? Safe? You must have—" he takes a deep breath, tries to stop the quivering of his voice. It’s all starting to make sense, now.  "The reason you're telling me who you are is because you must have told them everything already. I know the Justice League—I know you're working with them, which means the ex-experiment is over now, and they're coming to take me back. And I can't go back."

"Danny—"

"I can’t!” Danny glares at Bruce with all the rage he can, fingernails digging into his skin. “I’m not going back!"

"That's right, you're not going back, Danny. I won't let that happen." Bruce crouches down in front of Danny, his hands open and raised as if he's trying to say he's not a threat. "I don't know who you're talking about, and I'm sorry about that, but I can promise you that you’re not going back there. We will keep you safe."

Danny pulls himself closer, tucks himself further into the wall, eyes flickering all across the room waiting for that tell-tale flash of white as the agents start to swarm.

He should take his chances now and run, he should go, he needs to go!

The rest of them, his brothers and sisters of a little over a year, are spread out, giving him and Bruce some space. The same concern colours all of their faces. Why are they still pretending?

Steph is chewing on her thumb. 

Danny liked Steph and her brash confidence, her jokes. She's been promising to paint his nails for months now, they've just never found the time. He was going to go for green and black, or maybe a galaxy theme, depending on what she felt comfortable doing.

He likes them all.

"You were supposed to be my family." His mouth turns down at the corners and his voice shakes like a child. "You were supposed to—why? Why would you—I don't understand why you would make me like you..."

"This isn't an experiment, Danny," Bruce's voice is steady, soothing. "I promise."

"But you work with them and—"

"Who do I work with?"

"The Justice League."

"Yes, I do, but we—"

"And the Justice League works with them. The GIW." Danny trembles with the name, clutching tightly onto his hoodie. "I'm not going back there, Bruce."

Danny doesn't miss Bruce's look over his shoulder, nor Tim's nod in return. Tim turns slightly to the side to hide his movements, but Danny bets he has his phone in his hand, probably letting them know they can take him now. Guess this is it, then. They'll be here soon, and he'll be gone.

"Kill me."

"Danny? What do—"

"If you ever had any kindness for me, if you ever cared, kill me. Please, Bruce. I can't do it again."

"Danny..."

"End me now. Take my core out and break it, please, before they get here."

[do-you-know-this-queer-character]

Do you know this queer character?

The Captain is Gay and uses he/him pronouns!

[sforzesco]

HAPUNAN MO ANG AKING KATAWAN

I can't...stop thinking about Sulla dedicating his memoirs to Lucullus.......what the fuck.....

Plutarch, Lucullus (trans. Scott-Kilvert)

Lucullus: A Life, Arthur Keaveney

I will probably redesign Lucullus the next time I draw him, but we are. getting somewhere. I want to give him darker hair, I think. but mostly this comic is because I've been playing U-Know's Reality Show album pretty regularly since it was released and Vuja De is one of those songs that really hits when I think about relationships people had with Sulla (either in the positive, negative, or generally kind of messy). it Inspires, it Compels, and I also just wanted to do a 9-panel grid layout because it's been awhile since I've done one. they're Satisfying

[halfdeadwallfly]

hi!!!! thank you @summercampghostie @im-the-son-of-rage-and-lov3 and @biromanticboba for the tag! i'm making a new thread so i could respond to everyone at once. i love this picrew so it was really fun to do again with the changes in my look hehe

it's supposed to be what you look like vs what you would want to look like, but if i'm being completely honest, i've just been really happy with how i look lately so i only did that version :))))

EDITING TO ADD THE LINK LMAO HERE YOU GO

np tags 🪄 @spectral-mycoblin @starry-eyed-darling @trips-around-the-sun @mack-anthology-mp3 and ofc anyone else who wants to join!! love you all <3

[vynnyal]

Turns out Sunlit Trail isn't quite done just yet, so after all that they just send you to a dead end 😂

[creativesplat]

I would also like to see some miphlink, if that's okay!

I was really struggling with what to draw, and then I remembered your ask from ages ago (dang ADHD brain...) anyway, sorry its such a late answer, but Miphlink inspired by Dicksee's La Belle Dame