#never saying eventually or and then

[tagamantra]

writing longform prose is so empowering,

what do you mean i have power over time?

what do you mean i can make it so that

every moment is now,

i don't have to keep saying "eventually" or "then"

like my ancestors unchained

from the calendar of greed,

the wheel of the machine god

[marsbotz]

lets all die horribly

[egophiliac]

since Eng is getting 7.5 soon(?), I felt motivated to go back to my Meleanor rig and make her a couple of lesson animations! ...except for alchemy, because the cauldron bubbles proved too hard to photoshop around, whoops.

maybe she just got lost on her way to the classroom...?

(credit: backgrounds are from the game, I just put her on top of 'em)

(aside from the backgrounds, this is not an edit, I drew her from scratch! please do not tag or treat as an edit!)

[cosycryptid]

Modern AU where the party have a famous paranormal investigation and unsolved mysteries youtube channel. Steve is in the background of their first ghost hunting video because he wasn't going to let them go and stay overnight in an abandoned building without supervision. Their audience finds Steve's sarcastic comments and parental attitude towards the kids really compelling and most of the comments on that video are begging for him to become a regular in their on location videos. Before long, Steve is a reoccurring presence in their videos playing the skeptic/concerned parent role.

For example:

Dustin: I’ve connected the dots guys. This must be the work of a demon.

Steve: You didn’t connect shit. It's just an old creaky building.

Dustin: I’ve connected them.

—————————————

In an abandoned hospital.

Max: Hey this giant metal door has some kind of engraving on it.

Lucas: Oh cool, it looks like old graffiti.

Steve: Yeah that’s great, do you know what else it looks like? Rusty as shit. Now get back here and don’t touch anything because your parents are gonna be so pissed if they find out you had to get tetanus shots at 2am on a Saturday because I let you wander around an abandoned hospital with a bunch of shady ass camera men. No offense.

Camera man: None taken.

Mike (from the doorway): Guys! Will, El and Dustin found an operating theatre and there are a bunch of old scalpels and needles and stuff in there.

Max: Awesome, let’s go.

Steve: No! No! Let’s not go! Let’s stay as far away as possible from the room full of potential infections. Where are Dustin, El and Will? They didn’t go inside the room, did they?

Mike: See, I could answer that, but I don’t think you’re gonna like it.

—————————————

While exploring a ‘haunted’ hotel:

Mike: Hey look, all of Steve’s bitches are in this room.

El: There is nobody in there.

Mike: Exactly.

He turns to look directly into the camera with a sly grin and the others start laughing.

Steve: Yeah, yeah. You’ll be laughing when I drive home without you.

—————————————

At the same hotel.

Steve: Dustin. Your little light box thing is broken, it’s been flashing on and off for the past five minutes.

Dustin: Oh my God, Steve! That means it can sense a spirit. Why didn’t you say anything?! Did you not listen to my long and detailed explanation of how the equipment works?

Steve: I’m gonna be so honest with you. No, I didn’t.

—————————————

On their Mothman episode trip to point pleasant.

Steve, staring at the statue (we all know which one): Ok, but why is he kinda…

Lucas: Please stop talking.

Dustin: No sexualising the cryptids please, Steve.

Steve: If they didn’t want anyone to sexualise Mothman, then why would they give his statue such a defined ass and abs?

Max: I mean, he’s not wrong.

—————————————

Eventually, Steve gets peer pressured by the comments into starting his own channel. And since he still has no idea what he wants to do with his life, he decides to go ahead and do it.

At first his audience are super confused because his content is a hard pivot from the supernatural and unsolved mysteries content people are used to seeing him in. He mainly reacts to DIY haircare videos and gives tips on how to do what the people in the videos were trying to do properly without risking ending up bald.

He also makes wholesome baking videos, and has a side podcast with Robin, where they talk shit for 3 hours about anything they want - usually celebrities and assholes on the internet - as well as having a segment where Robin makes Steve watch a movie he's never seen and they review it. People who came from the paranormal channel still love his content because he’s funny and sassy and his videos are surprisingly helpful at times. He’s soon catching up to his friends in subscriber numbers.

Eddie and his band have a channel where they upload music videos, live performances and backstage/tour vlogs. They also make the occassional song covers where they take requests in the comments for metal versions of pop songs. Eddie also has a side channel where he runs D&D campaigns with other influencers (he hates that word).

One day he’s doing a Q&A and when someone asks which influencers he’d like to invite for his next campaign, he mentions Steve and says he’s been secretly watching his videos for a while and they’re kind of a guilty pleasure. He’s even tried some of Steve’s hair care tips because his hair was looking a bit frazzled under the heat of the lights on stage and it was getting in his way during performances. Now he swears by them because his hair has never looked or felt better.

Steve’s never seen any of Eddie’s videos but he starts watching them after that, he particularly likes the metal versions of pop songs because it makes the genre more accessible to him. Sometimes he makes joke song suggestions in the comments. Every single time, the song he suggested gets covered.

The boys are all insanely jealous of this new development because they’ve been fans of Eddie’s channels for years and have been bringing up references to some of his campaigns in their videos to try and get him to consider them for the next one, but so far have had no luck. Meanwhile, Steve, who doesn’t even know the first thing about D&D has his full attention. Steve was going to ask Eddie to consider asking them out of the kindness of his heart, but after they’ve given him a little too much attitude over it, he decides he’s gonna join the campaign instead just to spite them.

Cue Steve going from completely clueless to kind of a decent player and the two of them going from fascinated with each other to constantly flirting and appearing in each other’s videos.

[choccy-milky]

...nowhere is off limits for seb 🥴 (scene from the office bc ive been rewatching clips lately and when i saw this one i HAD to redraw it as them LMAO)

[mx-dragon-faye]

Yknow what I love to see? Fics where Hiccup is like half-raised by dragons. Not in a he was kidnapped and taken from Berk and raised by dragons way, but that’s cool too, but like in a “wow all the humans are so dismissive of this kid that they don’t notice when he disappears into the woods for long stretches of time, meanwhile all these dragons in the woods are like hatchling? human hatchling left all alone? is anyone taking care of him? no? ours now. our hatchling.” way. (Now time for me to write one of my own fics like that)

[moonsnqil]

if i was kevin day id be more annoying actually

[chanafehs]

I’m kinda tired of the fanon interpretation of lavellan with no family or friends or meaning outside their LI so if you have a lavellan who still has a family and friends and hobbies please take this as a opportunity to talk about them in the tags of this post <3

[plentyghosts]

Most people assume that nothing much scares Edwin. He spent seven decades in hell. What, up here on earth, could possibly compare, after that? Turns out, quite a lot. In fact, Edwin scares incredibly easy. Spiders. The sound of a child's laughter. Old porcelain dolls. The dark. And then there's the myriad of creatures and vengeful spirits they face on cases. He is scared very often. He has simply become skilled at operating as usual, even in the depths of terror. Even when every non-existent nerve is screaming at him to hide. Even when his vision is going fuzzy at the edges, his ears ringing. Hell didn't make him less easily frightened, but it did give him the ability to carry on when he is.

[corsairspade]

Halenthir but none of the Finweans believe Haleth is real because they all assume Caranthir made up a spouse so he could leverage his marriage status for tax concessions. Caranthir is extremely mad about this. Haleth thinks it’s hilarious.

[sootnuki]

i’m going to be sick from laughing

[starry-bi-sky]

watch me end up making a superdad au coz of WTNS

because!!! because i was thinking about how funny it is that Bruce's first two kids (Dick and Danny) would be superman fans, and how funny it would be if that influenced his opinion on Superman when they first met. And then I got to picking that apart, and how Danny's opinion and feelings on Superman would have the bigger impact on Bruce than Dick, since Dick's admiration for Superman (presumably) comes from the standard little kid "he's an alien and he can FLY" (and flying graysons) stuff. Which, while very very cute, is easy to ignore and disallow swaying feelings on.

But DANNY? It's not the same. While part of Danny's admiration comes from the same "holy shit he's an alien and can fly thats so COOL" vein, it also comes from a place of feeling deeply relatable to him. Both he and Superman were/are perceived as incredibly powerful, deeply dangerous creatures that are nigh impossible to stop, they have a handful of powers that are similar to one another, and they are (one of) the only ones of their kind. Superman is (one of) the last Kryptonian, Danny is (one of) the only Liminal in existence, and they might not be the same species but the principle remains the same and they're in the same boat.

As a result, Danny would just, god, he'd find so much relation in that. And yeah they're not the same but Superman would make him feel just a little less alone, a little more seen, and he'd find so much comfort in that.

And Bruce, by the time he meets Superman, would know by then about Danny's powers and his experiences and his time as Phantom and as a Liminal. And it's easy to ignore your kid's admiration for another Superhero when it stems from a place of plain hero worship or simple appreciation. It's harder to ignore it when your kid admires a Superhero because they make them feel seen and relate to them on a level you can't reach them on.

When that's the reason, how could he not think differently about Superman? When, by then, he's seen the scars left on Danny's body from all of his fights; when he's seen him cry and break down over never being able to fly again thanks to the blood blossom poison; when he's heard all about the struggles he faced with his powers, the fear he had about being found out, the fear he had when he was first developing them; and how he was ostracized by his city for his efforts just because he wasn't human, despite how much he was just trying to help.

How could he not look at Superman when they first meet, mask-to-mask, and have a little voice in the back of his mind go: 'my kid is a lot like you'

its making me emotional. if these feeligns persist im going to end up making a superdad au

[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'.)

[kettledemon]

Unexpected reunion

[shanastoryteller]

Not a prompt, I just keep thinking about the classic spn plot of "boys transported into au where they're happy" with the au being See Something, Say Something and the boy being Sam at his most depressed, and then sighing gleefully at the thought of how much angst he'd feel over everything. Beautiful fantasy.

See Something Say Something

Dean hears Sam shout and goes running.

Nothing should be able to get to them in their impenetrable dead guy bunker, but they’ve barely explored the place, who knows what kind of weird shit Sam could be getting into when Dean’s looking.

Except when he turns into the library, he sees Sam standing there looking perfectly fine. In fact, he looks great, something Dean’s long practiced at not noticing, but there’s something just a little off. Does he have less wrinkles? Did Sam sneak out and get botox when he wasn’t looking?

“Dean,” he says with obvious relief, completely unabashed, and it hits him hard. They’re not fighting, exactly, at the moment, but that’s more because they’ve made a mutual, silent decisions to stop talking about Amelia and Benny and purgatory than anything else. “Man, what happened?” He looks around. “What the hell are we doing at the bunker?”

“What?” he says blankly. Where else would we be. “Did you hit your head?”

He scrunches his nose and Dean almost smiles. “I don’t think so? Am I missing time?”

How would Dean know that?

Before he can say that, Sam turns the corner, head buried in a book. “Hey, Dean, I found–” He looks up and blinks. “Um.”

Dean reaches for his gun, but isn’t sure where to aim it.

“Oh.” Sam blinks. “Well, I guess I’m not in Kansas anymore.”

“Actually,” Dean hears himself saying, “we are in Kansas.”

Both Sams roll their eyes.

~

Other Sam is apparently from a parallel universe and he mostly seems unbothered by the whole thing, although the first thing he does is text a witch named Rowena for help. “This is probably her fault in my world,” he explains. “She’s always doing shit like this on accident. That’s the real problem with witches that are on her level, they just start fucking with the fabric of space and time for something to do.”

“Right,” Dean says. He needs a drink.

“Your hand,” his Sam says, a strange look on his face.

Dean follows his gaze and sees what must have upset him. The other Sam is wearing a wedding ring.

He’s spent his life trying and failing not to covet Sam in ways he shouldn’t. He’s done a lot of fucked up shit, hell, he’s fucked up in ways that put him about equal with the things they hunt, and this is something he should have gone over. Right, like his little snit over Amanda or whatever her name is hadn’t proved he hasn’t had a handle on it for a long time. He was better at ignoring it before hell. After, it was like all his careful self control had been ripped away from him, in all things. At least when he’s mad at Sam he’s not thinking of – things he shouldn’t.

Other Sam looks at his hand then at Sam’s and he becomes visibly upset, emotions so close to the surface in the way they haven’t been on Sam for a long time. Since before Dean sold his soul. “You’re not married?”

Sam shakes his head, hesitates, then asks, “What’s her name?”

“Jess,” he says, love and fondness clear in his voice.

Oh, fuck.

“Jessica Moore?” Sam whispers.

Other Sam lights up. “Yeah! You know her?”

“I did,” he says.

Other Sam isn’t stupid and his face crumples. “Oh, man, I’m sorry. What happened?”

“The demon,” Dean says so Sam doesn’t have to. “Yellow eyes.”

For some reason, the other Sam seems surprised, but he says, “Oh. Well,” he looks between them and forces an encouraging smile. “I mean, at least you still have each other, right?”

The bitterness is close enough to the surface that neither of them say anything.

Other Sam raises an eyebrow. “Lover’s spat? You know, me and Dean have found that fucking it out first really helps.”

Sam snorts and shakes his head like it’s a joke but the other Sam just looks confused by his reaction.

Dean feels his stomach bottom out. “Sam, I need to talk to you.”

His Sam starts to rise, but he grabs other Sam’s arm and drags him down the hall. He sees hurt briefly flash over his Sam’s face, but he doesn’t have time to do something about that right now. Other Sam follows him pliantly enough, even when Dean shoves them both into a random storage room. He just crosses his arms and waits.

Dean doesn’t know how to ask this. Even the idea of saying out loud this thing he’s been trying to will out of existence for most of his life terrifies him, because it can’t be, but if it is he needs to make sure that this Sam doesn’t say anything in front of his Sam.

“Are we,” he licks his lips. “Have we. I mean. When you said, before, did you.”

Sam blinks and then scowls. “Seriously? Jess is dead and we’re not sleeping together? What the hell have I been up to here?”

“What,” he says blankly. Holy shit. Really? No way.

Now Sam looks concerned. “Dean. You have told me, right?”

“Why the hell would I do that?” he spits. As if Sam isn’t always looking for reasons to leave him anyway and this would just be perfect. It’s not like he’d be able to blame him. Of course he wouldn’t want to be around Dean if he found out that he was in love with him.

Sam opens his mouth then closes it. “No, okay, I mean I was the one who – and I haven’t figured it out? Really? I mean, I did.”

Dean’s suddenly terrified. Could Sam know? But no, it’s not possible, if he knew he wouldn’t be here, if he knew then it would have come up in one of their many fights recently.

“You should tell me,” Sam says. “Or just, I don’t know, plant one on me and then go from there, I’ll figure it out pretty quick that way.”

Okay, not only is this Sam from a different universe, but he’s insane. “You don’t – you’re not – it’s just me. You’re not like me. You’re normal.”

Not normal in a lot of ways, but in this one. It’s not like he’s unaware of the irony of those times he’s called Sam a freak when he’s the one that wants to fuck his brother.

Except Sam gives him a dry look. “Dean, I’m pretty sure loving you is as fundamental to my DNA as nucleic acids. You’re probably just overthinking it.”

Overthinking it? He’s overthinking it?

“You can kiss me first for practice if you want,” he says.

Dean’s mouth goes dry. He wants it so badly he has to clench his hands into fists. “That’s a bad idea. I just – don’t say anything, alright? Don’t tell Sam.”

He rolls his eyes, like he finds Dean exasperating and unreasonable for not wanting the brother who he’s barely managing to hold onto to know his deepest, darkest, worst secret. “Fine, but you’re making a mistake.”

He’s not.

Making sure the worst part of him doesn’t ever touch Sam is one of the few things he’s done right.

[aalghul]

Remember when Duke referred to himself as Robin while talking to Batman and then everyone spent the next 8 years saying it's illegal to expect him to be included as a Robin in anything, ever.