#this also belongs here

[mercymaker]

𝐌𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐋𝐃𝐔𝐑'𝐒 𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝟑 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 + the 'damsel in distress' squad

[poisoned-pearls]

Masquerade Road Trip 🚌

Okay but like…. What if instead of using mirrors they had to stuff this whole cast of people into a bus/van

It’d be a little funny

(Also turn up phone brightness to see it better. Or don’t. Idk I don’t control you)

[stil-lindigo]

the calamity.

a comic about being seen.

--

creative notes:

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all my other comics

store

[pharmasrightarm]

separate ways

[bluestation]

at work

[valtsv]

But I have promises to keep—and miles to go before I sleep.

I couldn't stop thinking about VAL listening to Shrue's radio speech when she confronts Carson, and wondering just how many times she listened back to that recording while waiting for him. Did it bring her some comfort, to listen to someone else's last words as she waited to speak her own? Did she feel a little less alone, keeping company with another ghost that hasn't realised it's already dead?

[demisexual-eddie-diaz]

I would like to thank Charles for making P3 so that Max’s P2 doesn’t hurt as bad

[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'.)

[yes-asil]

So ill about the Sky cotl AU, I put Siffrin into multiple capes for fun

[nunkisketches]

"Can I really find my place here?"

[mustangphobia]

those who are important to gob

[vellichorsdesire]

loove thinking abt nonsexual intimacy with an f/o like taking bubble baths with them. their fingers running through your hair, massaging your scalp so gently with shampoo— it feels so good you’re tempted to make excuses of staying a little longer, feeling their relaxed presence so close to you as well. laying in bed with them with little clothing/none at all and admiring each other’s body, hands brushing over every scar, bruise, birthmark or stretch mark with absolutely no judgement whatsoever. mumurs shared of stories of those said old scars, whether they’re visible or not. helping each other dress up or get out of clothing after a long day, buttoning up or unbuttoning clothes, giggling while doing a small fashion show with them and helping them pick things out of their wardrobe

… honestly i say all of this but imagining them only in a tanktop or shirtless is enough to kill me already i think

[varpusvaras]

Jason gets his new ID card on a Thursday.

It's somehow simultaneously completely unremarkable, and also making his head reel. It's not even the first new, official ID card he has had in his hands - he needed one for the licence, after all, so he'd got one then - but it's still new in every way possible.

Jason turns the card around a couple of times, just to make sure that it's real. It is. New and shiny, with his own face looking back at him from the front. His face is also somehow the same old and completely new at the same time. It is very much him, in the picture, but Jason feels like he is looking at his long lost twin brother rather than at himself. His hair is freshly cut, completely black. His skin is tanned more than it has been in years, from spending a lot of time under the California sun during the past few weeks. He is wearing a light blue button-down shirt, one that Jason wouldn't usually never be caught in publicly.

It is him, still.

Jason is pretty sure he shouldn't have gotten neither of his new, official state-issued ID's so fast, or gotten everything else sorted out so quick either, but Roy has his own ways of doing things. This is the one time his previous government-connections came in handy, he had said after Jason had said yes, and then he had kissed Jason on the forehead and told him not to worry about it.

Jason had let Roy take care of it all. Doing things for others is how he shows affection, and Jason had felt that Roy had needed to take care of Jason even more than Jason had needed Roy to take care of him. Not that Jason is complaining about it. He still feels a bit untethered, and most things are taking entirely too much out of him, either physically or mentally, though Jason is not sure which is which most of the time.

Not that it really matters.

He finally turns his eyes away from his picture to what is written on the rest of the card. His birthday is correct, for once, since this is an official card and not a fake one for whatever purpose Jason had needed one over the years. His address is also on the card, and Jason cannot help but feel a sense of elevation for it. It makes him feel a little stupid. It's an address (Roy's address, their address, Jason officially lives there too-), not a new name or anything like that.

Jason is not really sure if he can look at the name on the card and not immediately combust on the spot, if the address is making him feel this way already.

The ring on his finger feels heavy. Jason takes a deep breath and moves his thumb where it had been covering the rest of the text.

Jason Peter Harper.

It's his name.

It's him.

Jason reads it again. Then again. Then again once, twice, three times more.

Jason Peter Harper looks at him from the picture while he does so. Jason's head is really spinning, and he forces it to stop, hard.

It is him.

He is Jason Peter Harper.

He is the man in the picture on the card.

That's him.

The door opens and closes in the hallway. Roy comes up to Jason when Jason doesn't answer to his greeting.

"Everything okay?" He asks, as he gets to Jason's back.

"Yeah", Jason manages to get out from his mouth. "My new card came in."

"Oh, already?" Roy says. "That was fast. Let me see?"

Jason lifts the card up a bit, so Roy can read it over his shoulder. From how close Roy is standing to him, Jason can hear the small, gentle stutter in his breath as he reads the name. It isn't like neither of them had not seen it already, written like that, since it is in other forms they had filled out, but apparently, it is still making Roy feel just as much things as Jason does.

Jason hopes that it never stops doing that for either of them. Or at least, not for a very long time.

He needs something to last.

"Nice name you got there, Harper", Roy says, and Jason swears that he can almost feel Roy's smile on his skin. He then feels Roy's body pressing against him, warm and strong and solid. Roy wraps his arms around Jason, his head dipping down to rest on Jason, and Jason turns to look at Roy's hands and at the mathing golden wedding band he has on his finger.

"You're mine", Roy says against Jason's shoulder. It is what he has been saying, ever since the clerck at the City Hall had put their name on the paper, singing their lives together. You're mine, you're mine, you're mine, and no one can say otherwise.

Jason had needed to hear it.

He still does.

Jason looks up at the card. It's strange, how a little piece of plastic can tell everyone who he is.

Jason breathes in and closes his eyes, just feeling it all.

His name is Jason Peter Harper. He's alive.

His name is Jason Peter Harper, and for the first time since he died, he thinks he can be happy.

[yoyo-s-coffee]

he can't keep getting away with it

[clj-art-blog]

Yue Zun and Yue Zhu | I belong to you and you belong to me

[adhbabey]

Let's talk about some lesser known symptoms of autism! Maybe this will help some of you get a broader perspective on what this can be like. There is a whole grab bag of symptoms of autism, but here are some ones you may not know that you have.

Focus on truth

What does this mean? Well glad you asked. This is the focus on facts and logic rather than anything else. People have shown this as autistic people may refusing to lie because it goes against what they find as true. But that's not always the case.

Have you ever used logic to try and figure out your emotions?

Are you someone who doesn't understand why others may speculate when the current knowledge is right there? (such as subtext versus canon knowledge or theoretical arguments)

Do you find it frustrating when others avoid their problems as a way to avoid figuring out negative things? (such as avoiding conflict in a friend group)

Is it easy for you to talk about your strengths and flaws? Do you know your likes, dislikes and limits pretty well?

High context communication

This is preference on details and the full context of any situation. Often going into great detail and backstory to anything.

Do you feel as though you need to overexplain to give the person everything they need to know?

Have you ever apologized to someone by explaining the deep and meaningful reasons of why you did it, before you said you were sorry? And maybe even felt upset or confused why they reacted badly?

Have you ever felt stressed out because you wanted to give others full detail but they either interrupted you or cut you off?

Are you stressed out by people who tell you what to do and not why they want you to do it?

Are you ever told that you talk back a lot?

Do you prefer recipes versus verbal/vague instructions? (All the things that you need such as ingredients, measurements, prep time, etc.)

Do you really like watching deep dives and knowing about the whole history of something you're even vaguely interested in?

Identity diffusion

This is not everyone's experience, and it is common in a variety of other disorders such as DID and BPD. However, it is when you do not know who you are in regards to others. This is also known as identity disturbance.

Have you ever felt like an outsider without knowing why?

Are you deeply interested on what other people think of you? Especially if it's all the time?

Do you really like taking personality tests and quizzes? Are you interested in horoscopes?

Do you feel like you don't fit in any one specific group? Either being a loner, or hopping in between many different groups?

Do you ever feel weirder than the "weird kids" group? Do you not really get along or feel like you belong with them?

Do you have low self esteem when it comes to comparing yourself to your friends? Do you feel like they're better or more capable than you?

Do you feel drastically unimportant and not as interesting or cool as everyone else?

Have you ever related to narratives surrounding a character that is the last of their kind?

Do you feel like your identity is a vast and gaping void, that even if you learn a little bit, that you'll never know everything?

Internalized repetition

This is one of those traits that not every autistic person experiences, but that some might. You could say that for all autistic traits, but hey, good to know regardless. Because of internalized repetition, you may not do many external stims, besides vocal.

Do you listen to a song over and over again? Perhaps having a playlist on repeat?

When stressed out, do you type the same word or phrase over and over again?

Do you like looking at the same things, such as the same color or the same artist's works?

Do you really like certain patterns, crystals or aesthetics?

Do you enjoy games with recognizable fighting patterns? (Such as character rotation, boss battle rotation, etc.)

Struggling to connect to others *

This is something that's been characterized by struggling to connect to others through their emotions, but the opposite is actually true for many autistic people. *I will be talking about those who struggle to connect to others who are emotionally distant or unavailable. Being emotionally distant or not showing emotions externally is a trait that many autistic people share, but for those without alexithymia, they may struggle to understand why anyone wouldn't like to talk about their emotions. I don't know the specific symptom term for this, so please bare with me. If anyone would like to inform me about what this is called, please tell me.

Do you struggle to talk with dry texters, or tend to over-examine people's tone through text?

Do you have anxious attachment?

Do you feel disconnected with many other autistic people and struggle to make friends or talk to them?

Do you feel embarrassment or shame with being emotionally sensitive?

Have you fallen down the rabbit hole of things like starseeds, star children or empaths?

Do you want to talk about serious emotions a lot, even when its not appropriate?

Do you trauma dump or wish people would become more emotionally intimate with you? Do you enjoy it when people share their deep traumas with you, even if it's triggering?

Are you constantly reassurance seeking?

There is plenty more symptoms out there, and these are just a few that stood out to me, because I think I may be autistic. I've always related somewhat, but never connected the dots. But there are reasons for that, such as identity diffusion and thinking I'm different from everyone else no matter what. I struggled because I didn't seem to have a lot of the outward and visible symptoms that were often talked about. I thought every autistic person had alexithymia, when that's just not true. My best friend, who has similar symptoms to me, along with another close friend of mine, have a similar presentation of autism. And it's taken quite a bit for me to accept or process. I feel like I'm faking my experiences just because I've self diagnosed before. And I'm angry that ADHD isn't given enough significance.

But I think I might be autistic, and this article that I based this post off of, confirmed it. So here's my post informing and coming out on that. You can be autistic and highly masking without actually knowing what's going on is masking. You can be autistic and have a spectrum of verbality, you can be autistic and struggle to connect to anyone who isn't immediately emotionally intimate with you. You can be autistic and not relate at all to other autistic people.

You're not alone.