#its never gonna happen!!

[bigfatbreak]

Birds of a Feather previous / next

[bacchuschucklefuck]

they licensed his ass

my finished piece of the FWMS (official name definitely 100%) thing we started a few days ago! I had fun I hope folks had and/or continue to have fun with the sketch as well.

[raepliica]

Heartbeat

[image description: A grayscale Trigun comic featuring Vash and Wolfwood.

Against a black background, child Vash floats in Ship 5, curled up and with his thumb pressed to his mouth. Heartbeat noises sound around him, and he looks at peace. The background shifts to white and shows adult Vash, sitting shirtless with his knees pulled up to his chest. The heartbeat sound continues only to be interrupted by knocking. Wolfwood, from outside the bathroom, asks, "Hey blondie! You fell asleep in there?"

The scene expands to reveal Vash sitting curled up in the bathtub, shower spraying on the back of his head. His clothes are left aimlessly on the bathroom counter and floor. From outside the bathroom, Wolfwood, shrugging of his jacket, continues, "… The sand steamer leaves at dawn tomorrow so don't take all night. I'm not waking you up gently if you're late." Vash's eyes continue to look downward, glazed and unfocused. Step sound effects and a yawn sound from outside the bathroom before Wolfwood says, "'m going to bed…". In the tub, Vash sits curled up against a dark background, before eventually lifting his head and unfurling himself as the background grows lighter.

He twists around to turn off the shower and then looks at the floor, going, "Ah." He sits, thinking, before calling out "Wolfwood?". A sleepy Wolfwood replies, "…yeah?" from offscreen. "I forgot my towel!" Vash exclaims. "Ugh, look under your change of clothes… Knew you'd forget so I left it there…" a grouchy Wolfwood replies. "Gee, thanks!" Vash replies, a cartoony doodle of him saying "so reliable!".

Vash, shirtless but with sleep pants on, opens the door, towel draped over his head, to see Wolfwood, reclining on the bed. Wolfwood's smoking and holding his rosary, lit by the light from the bathroom. Vash climbs into bed next to him, towel still around his shoulders, and rests his head on Wolfwood's chest. His eyes close and then open to see Wolfwood watching him. Vash exclaims, "Oh! It's speeding up!, and Wolfwood bonks him on the head before saying, "Get on here since ya wanna be so up close 'n personal!". The two tussle briefly and Vash laughs before Wolfwood tucks the blanket around them. Wolfwood continues to smoke as Vash curls up against his chest and listens to his heartbeat, the background turning black once again as he smiles, content. /end id]

[ace-daemon]

in a distant time place

the same song of humanity still sang

[jmrww]

the guns have fallen silent

[skunkes]

[medicalunprofessional]

never change, man !

[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'.)

[my-fall-from-grace]

ok yknow what i’m gonna say it

no matter how “bad” logan has been or how “little” he deserves this 2nd year or how he’s a “pay driver” or whatever else y’all always say

he doesn’t deserve this. any of this

since the very first moment he stepped in a f1 car, he’s been treated as a joke. first it was the wtf is a kilometre jokes then rah rah eagles and now logan in the wall / fork found in kitchen / deuxmoi memes. every weekend, the commentators compare him to his teammate, ignoring the difference in experience and the way they aren’t even driving the same car and that logan was literally running last years specs multiple times. they compare him to oscar, who has driven multiple times f1 cars during test runs and is in a mclaren and the situations are not even remotely similar, ignoring that logan was promoted early, that he didn’t have much opportunity to drive f1 cars even for testing, that he was literally tossed into the deep end without any help and told to survive.

the only time they were even remotely kind to him was when they gave his car to alex. which thanks for the support or whatever but that is so backhanded i don’t even have the words to describe it.

i think we’re all coming to the terms with the reality that this will be his last year in f1. and i don’t think that’s fair for so many reasons. you promote him early, you give him a shit car, you talk bad about him in the media and you don’t promote him (lap of legends hello?) and you openly court other drivers for his seat. you disrespect him and allow others to disrespect him and that’s not right.

formula 1 is the dream for so many people. imagine achieving your dream, even if it’s in a joke of a team, even if it’s too early. but then you become the joke of a joke, you become the american, which is a bad thing. the outsider, the one who doesn’t belong. they make fun of you each weekend. they ask every day when you’ll be replaced.

(and yeah i agree. he does need to improve to have any hope of keeping his seat, f1 is brutal and it’s never been kind, and i’m not being naive and thinking oh it’s his dream and so he deserves it despite it all. i’m not saying that. what i am saying is that is a human being, just like nicholas latifi was, and some of you are too comfortable being cruel.)

speaking of being the american. they make fun of you as though that will punish the fia for putting 3 us races on the calendar. as though that will punish all the american fans who came to f1 through drive to survive. as though that will keep f1 pure and european and whatever the fuck else - they do the same to yuki and zhou and checo and lewis and even if logan’s situation is not even remotely similar to what they’ve experienced, there’s a bias to f1 that cannot be ignored.

but that’s not the point i’m trying to make. not today

this was your dream. this was your dream. and you were never allowed to enjoy it because you became the punchline of a joke the minute you accepted the seat. it was always going to end like this. you knew that.

so yeah. congrats to logan for achieving his dream of driving in f1! it’s unfortunate that he was never allowed to live it.

[itscherryterry-again]

yea

[drdemonprince]

people who are obsessed with passing are gonna be the death of our community i swear

[scottstiles]

SCILESNATURAL 6/? ↳ 5.2 Parasomnia | 15.8 Our Father, Who Aren’t in Heaven

[felsicveins]

We're a lethal combination, too lost for therapy

[turtletoria]

beardleitner revival

[neonlazycat]

"I don't need another body"....."what would I change it to?" "Another variant of sun but its blue?"

BLUE U SAY? >:D

BLUE?!

SOLAR BLUE FUTURE CANON ? (I'm delusional)

[juniemunie]

If we're not giving up, don't give up wherever you are.

That's a promise.