dysfunctionalcreature

[dysfunctionalcreature]

tie me to the bed with our red string of fate

[dysfunctionalcreature]

If you’re LGBT reblog and tag with your opinion on beer.

[dysfunctionalcreature]

The Magnus Archives fan art

Angler Fish

The Piper

Jane Prentiss

Ushankas_Despair.exe

The Spiral

Nikola Orsinov

[dysfunctionalcreature]

The Magnus Archives fan art part 2

Annabelle Cane (The Web)

The Flesh

Jared Hopworth (The Boneturner)

Sylvia McDonald

The Coffin 

[dysfunctionalcreature]

𝓜𝕚𝕔ʰᵃêl 𝓢𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚕e̾𝓎

[dysfunctionalcreature]

Fantasy-ifying the Pacific Coast 🐲

(journal sketchpage wip)

[dysfunctionalcreature]

In a cage of her own making

[dysfunctionalcreature]

“Merlin! I can explain!”

Arthur grows up surrounded by fear and steel and crushing expectations, a boy made into a blade.

Keeps his father's lessons of what a man is meant to be tucked into his heart as he watches Morgana with something that feels painfully like envy.

Feels that same itch in the back of his mind with every new comment about how much he looks like his mother.

Ignores the flutter in his chest when Gwaine calls him 'princess' and clutches his masculinity in a white-knuckle grip.

He's grateful for every morning that Merlin keeps silent about the way Arthur seems unable to look at his own body, as though he can't stand to see what awaits him in the mirror.

It isn't until nearly a year after Uther's death, and he finds a trunk of his mother's things while going through his father's worldly possessions, that he finally breaks down and lets himself feel it all.

Every longing glance at Gwen's clever hands weaving Morgana's hair into intricate patterns before a banquet, every flicker of joy at a feminine nickname he quickly tamped down, every morning he woke up with broad shoulders and strong limbs and hair everywhere he doesn't want it and Merlin is the only thing that keeps him from throwing himself from the battlements.

Every "You look so much like her…" he tried to brush aside comes pouring back out in hot streaks down his face, as he pulls out one of his mother's dresses with shaking hands.

He screws his eyes tight against the sight of himself as he changes into the underdress as quickly as he can manage alone, and pulls on the overdress almost reverently before finally looking up.

And finally, finally, finally seeing herself in the mirror.

⚔️🏳️‍⚧️⚔️

Anyway, I had some ✨feelings✨ about Transfem!Arthur the other night and had to get them out. Hope you enjoy.

[dysfunctionalcreature]

[dysfunctionalcreature]

“you’re so sensitive” i was born with a poet’s soul. bitch

[dysfunctionalcreature]

periods are medieval honestly. like sorry I got suicidal last night turns out I had too much blood in me. yeah no some of it fell out and I'm fine now.

[dysfunctionalcreature]

three person poly relationship made up of two people who are already dating trying to coax someone with horrific self worth issues into a loving relationship. stray cat style

[dysfunctionalcreature]

i just found like a million and one doorkeay drawings that i dont think ive posted so GO HAM 💥💥💥💥

[dysfunctionalcreature]

:-)

[dysfunctionalcreature]

turns out the cure for art block is drawing beautiful women

[dysfunctionalcreature]

no Michael don't go on that work trip to Russia— oh my god he has his walkman playing he can't hear us!

[dysfunctionalcreature]

When Clark said “he’s not even a very good dog but he’s all alone and he’s probably scared so i have to go get him” I was so happy because someone in that writers room truly understands superman better than we’ve seen in a long time. This is the essence of superman - that every living being deserves kindness and empathy and love simply because they are alive. Clark is the kind of guy who’d cry when he got stung by a bee not because it hurt but because the bee died when it stung him and someone in the writers room knew that and made sure it came through.