If Cecil and Clay met each other, how would they react?
(I know they are both on different moons but what if?!?)
Im sure Cecil will be just fine! :)
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Another stupid doodle of my current favorite fictional polycule feat. my more updated version of these guys
Did we ever figure out a ship name for these fellas?? I need more fanfic feat them together btw
(I will never remember which arm oscar lost)
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Minimalist color palettes are fun 😷
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Another pic for @croik somewhat set in the Entangled series universe.
I've always really loved the King in Yellow as a character fromt eh Lovecraft mythos, but Malevolent, and these fics in particular elevated him to blorbo status.
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anyone else remember binge watching scp videos and suddenly learning that the mask thing and the plague doctor had some yaoi going on. was this real. did i dream that up
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Masked- Wrong
Dick was tired.
He was tired from fighting as the only baseline human on a team of supers. Tired from leading the team. Tired from stitching the team back together. No, Dick was beyond tired; Dick was exhausted.
Dick was also, and would always be, a Robin.
As soon as he opened the rood to his quarters, Dick knew something was wrong. It didn’t matter that it was too dark to see, it was wrong. His hair stood on end, his muscles tensed, his breathing slowed—
“I know it’s a… pretty big violation of privacy to sneak in like this.”
It was Phantom.
Dick flicked on the lights.
The feeling of wrong didn’t go away. Dicks eyes traveled over Phantom, who was slumped, cross-legged, on the corner of his bed. Wrong, wrong, wrong— his sense screamed at him and Dick tried to make his tired brain kick into gear.
Oh, the hoodie.
It was a dusky red.
Phantom’s clothing was only ever white, black, or green. This hoodie was a dusky red.
“I thought I could take care of it myself,” Phantom rasped.
Dick could tell, even though Phantom’s face was completely covered by the hood, that Phantom was pointedly not looking at him.
“But,” Phantom shrugged, “guess I did too much this time.”
The reverb was gone from Phantom’s voice. There was always this quality when he spoke like an echo or a static hum. Dick always found it a little endearing, the way it would get more pronounced when Phantom was feeling a strong emotion. Now it was gone.
The reverb was gone.
The colors were gone.
Wrong, wrong, wrong—
Dick stepped into the room and silently closed the door behind him. “What couldn’t you take care of?”
Phantom didn’t speak, just pulled up the sleeve on the hoodie— pulled it up with too tan hands to reveal a bandage soaked through with too red blood. Phantom bled green. He rarely bled at all, but he bled green.
The bandage was soaked through with very human red.
Dick took the few steps needed to cross the room and crouch down in front of Phantom. Phantom who ducked his head further down. Slowly, giving Phantom time to pull away, Dick reached up and pushed the hood back.
Black hair tumbled around Dick’s fingers.
Terrified blue eyes met Dick’s own.
The blood was still red.
Wrong, wrong, wrong—
“Okay, how can I help?”
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when I first joined the Malevolent official discord in April 2021, there were some goofs being made about fanfiction and I made a quip about tender hand holding. HG send me this file the very next day.
Transcript:
Arthur: I- I don't understand-
John: I want you to hold my hand, Arthur.
Arthur: Okay!
John: Tenderly.
(Music starts playing)
Arthur: All right.
John: How does it...how does it make you feel?
Arthur: It's...nice. I quite like it.
John: Me too.
(dramatic clang sound effect, music fades out)
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