#< not really but still close enough

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Council of lovefools.

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[nipuni]

Ten and Missy! Our Halloween costumes 🥰

[phoenixcatch7]

Dp x dc twin au where Danny and Damian were in fact conjoined/siamese twins, but the most dangerous type - one head, two bodies.

Their early removal from talia being because their shape would not have allowed for natural birth, they were written off but talia begged for the chance to send them off in the lazarus pit.

By some bizarre miracle, before she turned to leave, two small bodies bobbed to the surface - identical in every way, except for the eyes. The previous blue eyes now split in two, one left, one right, and the new eyes, pit created, a bright green.

She took her child, her two children, and together, they survived.

Being removed prematurely, their early years were tough, but soon they blossomed into promising heirs for the league. In sync with every step, the closest of brothers, the league was certain the old fairy tale of twins being telepathic had been granted by the pit that separated them, the remnants of being born as one mind, one brain, one skull.

But then Danny had to flee, and leave his other half behind. Stretched by distance for the first time, the bond grew thin and stretched, and Damian grieved his brother as dead. When he started being sent on public missions, he hid his distinctive heterochromia, choosing the green in memory of the pit that had given him and his brother life.

Danny, hiding his pit aura in the ocean's worth that was Amity park, took to blue, the colour that he and Damian were born with.

Damian moves to Gotham, and continues to mourn his brother as dead, right until one day when he is twelve, when he learns what the death of your other half truly feels like.

-

Their reunion is a thing of family legend. Violence runs hot in both bloodlines, ghosts are highly emotional and prone to fighting a the drop of a hat for bonding, playing, testing, every reason under the green sun. Their training and play often consisted of friendly spars, competitive spars, furious spars, venting spars. Both have been exposed to unhealthy amounts of ecto since before their birth.

There is a long, long minute of staring, before they rip themselves away and lunge at each other like wolves.

The bat family are horrified by their brutally efficient youngest suddenly barreling towards a clone (?) and trying to claw his throat open with his bare hands while openly sobbing.

It ends with them wrapped around each other crying into the others shoulder as their minds finally meet again and relax from the painful stretch for the first time in years.

But nobody else has any idea what to do.

[keeps-ache]

overgrowth and languor

[recommended you click and zoom] (alt versions below)

[yeonjune]

Yeonjun about the strain he felt while preparing for his debut solo project ✙ "GGUM" MAKING FILM

[seiwas]

sellllllll it's meeeeee. hehehehehehehehehhehe

so for ur writing exercises.... deku + light? please? pretty please?

:3c

heheh heheh hehe niku. this will be the death of me. me writing izuku for the first time 🥲 i will only do this for you </3

contains: established relationship, spoilers for the end of the manga, aged up deku but sometime in between the final outcome (he doesn't get the h*** s*** from bakugo yet), mentions of sex and scars

deku + light

izuku only sleeps with the lights off.

it isn't uncommon; many people you know can't sleep with even just a sliver of light turned on somewhere in the room. but the difference with izuku, you learn, is not that he's unable to stand the light―it's that he refuses to.

you quickly pick up on it the first few times he sleeps over.

he fidgets in bed, pretty badly, actually. the nightlight you sleep with glows a warm yellow, illuminating the side of your face and coating him in its afterglow. you chalk it up to nerves, how he pulls at his sleeves and adjusts his position constantly; he is, after all, one of the most anxious people you know.

and this relationship―it's new. heck, even you feel a little jittery with his arm wrapped around you.

the rhythmic tapping on your hip only increases pace. you don't think he realizes it, so your hand gently reaches for his, intertwining your fingers as you turn around in his arms.

he's close, nearly touching you nose-to-nose; the proximity leaves you fuzzy, a little ticklish, so you giggle, a soft "oops," as the freckles dusting his face almost glisten under the warm light.

"hi," you whisper, meeting his eyes; they stare back at you wide in surprise, "can't sleep?"

he looks almost guilty at your question, as if you’ve caught him with the one thing he's been trying to keep from you.

"just—" his voice comes out louder than intended, prompting him to chuckle nervously as he readjusts his volume, "just winding down, sorry."

you inch closer, nuzzling his nose lightly, "it's okay."

"did i wake you?" he asks, cheeks flushing pink as his eyebrows furrow in immediate concern. his expression is something caught between stifling a grin and feeling sorry.

you shake your head against the pillow you share, strands of your hair tangling with his. "just winding down," you tease, watching as his gaze turns softer, eyelids drooping heavier.

sometimes, you think, izuku holds the world in his eyes―a deep, dark green, the color of life. most times, they look at you with wonderment, bright and alive; photos from inko tell you they're the eyes of his inner child.

on nights like this one, however, they hide a depth in them weighted by what you can only assume is time, and all that has happened to him in such a short span of it.

you try your best to understand what lies beneath them, knowing full well he'll never tell you outright what truly bothers him.

"is it the light?" you bring up, some time after laying in silence.

"hm?" he clarifies.

"do you have a hard time sleeping with the nightlight?"

his eyes widen briefly once more, as if shocked that you've caught him again. these split second reactions are ones you've learned to be attentive to when it comes to izuku.

"no," he tries to lie, but you know better as you turn to your nightstand and reach for its switch, "you don't–"

"it was hurting my eyes," you quickly make up an excuse, tucking yourself closer under his chin as you cut off his attempt to deny it again.

finding out that the light was the problem was the easy part—

you'd begun to notice much earlier on that izuku was barely rested on the nights he'd spend at your place. it was only when your old nightlight broke that you began to notice him waking up much later than you did, groggily rousing from a deep sleep.

—what was hard, was figuring out why.

at first, you suspected it was his scars.

"s-sorry, it's not—" he'd warned you, right as your hands gripped the hem of his shirt the first time you were about to have sex, "—it's not nice."

you didn't care though; you still don't care, and you've made that abundantly clear to him since. you love izuku and all his parts―all the nicks and jaggedy pieces of skin that make up who he is.

when you eventually ask him about it, with a request that he be honest with you for once, he tells you that it is and it isn't―the reason why he exclusively sleeps with the lights off, that is.

it's an odd, comforting relationship he has with his body—that he is simultaneously grateful and sorry for how its become a canvas, both painted and marred to symbolize japan’s historic last stand.

you find out the real reason when you catch him staring at his hands.

he does it often, when he thinks you aren't looking—his fists bunched up in the same way he used to watch the power of one for all course through his fingertips; the same way he used to prepare them in battle.

there’s a faraway look in his eyes that lingers, you notice—a little wistful if anything.

“do you miss it?” you finally ask. he gives you the same shocked look he does every time, as if he’s been caught with a secret he’s been trying to hide.

he’s learned a fair bit about you now, too, though—lying to you is futile when you’ve perfected reading his truth. he stares at his fists again as you take a seat beside him, moving to give you space. you rest your head on his shoulder gently, waiting.

“sometimes,” he admits, but you know it’s an understatement.

“i think about the vestiges a lot. i miss them the most, i think,” he continues, clenching his fists tightly, “i always try to reach out to them, but i guess it doesn’t work that way.”

“i… i try to replicate the right conditions every night, but…” then he lets go, stretching his fingers out wide. the scars on the surface ripple through his skin, telling its own story.

you hum, acknowledging what he means. silence sits with the two of you as you take his hand in yours, slowly unfurling his fingers until his palm reveals itself to you. it’s rough to the touch, seasoned with hard work and all that he’s been through.

“is that why you prefer the dark?” you ask softly, after some time.

it's not often that you stay up later than izuku does. when you do though, you catch him shifting in bed, moving from side-to-side. you pretend you aren't awake, but you hear him mumble their names, dwindling in volume as he dozes off to sleep.

he stares at his palm for a moment before he admits quietly, "yeah." his brows furrow as if contemplating whether to say more, but he shakes his head, dark green strands swaying to the beat of his embarrassed chuckle, "nevermind, it's silly."

"it's not."

you intertwine your fingers, sandwiching his hand between yours. a slight sheen glosses over his eyes as he tilts his head up to look at you. he draws in a breath, before it spills over.

"it's..." he finds the words, and you squeeze his hand in comfort, "it's easier to believe it was all real when the lights are out, and that maybe it can happen again."

[canisalbus]

Made me and my friend some itty bitty vachette stickers I hope this is alright!! Your characters are delightful I'm going to add mine to my tragic gay dog shrine 🐺🥔

They're so tiny ;A;

And sparkly.

And exhausted.

[ciderjacks]

Also while I’m here does anyone else think about how his immediate thought was that the other party had died while fighting over gold (likely informed by his own past experiences) and then right after he says that Laios draws his sword, and you can see the horror in his eyes as he freezes up.

[deoidesign]

I met the me who made different choices

[a2zillustration]

We lived.

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[[ All Croissant Adventures (chronological, desktop) ]]

[[ All Croissant Adventures (app) ]]

[kuromi-hoemie]

duckduckgo how to tell ur bro he'd look really hot on T

duckduckgo how to tell ur bro being a pretty boy is 100% valid and hot

duckduckgo how to tell ur bro you want him to be pretty boys with you

duckduckgo how to beam “gnc trans people are cool” into the brains of everyone on earth at least 3 times a day

[pigidin]

UMM?? GUYS??

Alt coz ik the quality is bad::

[The mind Bill knows best. Pure ego. Putty in Bill's hands. Bill will also reveal that, while he was possessing Ford in the 80's, he ripped out a number of pages from Ford's journal and erased his memory of them. Bill will show the LOST PAGES from JOURNAL 3 that have never before been seen]

DOES ANYONE WANNA TALK ABOUT THE MEMORY ERASE THINGY COZ IM GOING PRETTY MUCH INSANE OVER THIS INFO. WHAT.

[crustyfloor]

This scene of Till innocently peaceful with such a big smile feels incomplete to me after the events of round 7--But more true to his character rather than a comic with his final thoughts like Sua and Ivan had, it's cruel, brief, like a flashback, and it's bittersweet. Till is probably going to be reserved and ambiguous till the end. He wouldn't be able to bring himself to think about and reflect on his regrets and traumas; that's Till's principle; living in stubborn, childish beliefs, and in those truths, he finds escape into solace, even if it's unlike his reality, it's how he copes enough to make everything bearable for the next day to come. This image feels like a reflection, a memory of when he was happier in life. In Till's final moments, he thought about his and Mizi's childhood, the moment he fell in love with her was when she smiled at him with such radiance, the same moment, he felt like his heart was reborn; it was like he could breathe and smile solely for her. Till thinks back to these moments, these fleeting moments of peace because he can't let them go, he can't let go of the comfort of that familiarity.

--"Oh in a blink Gone. Blink and Gone, relish the present."

This image does bring me back to a lot of lyrics in Round 7. But this one in particular, a line that talks about living in the present before the moment slips between your fingers, in a blink, gone. But Till lives in the past.

Till doesn't think back to round 1 when he killed that alien guitar for Mizi, even though it was fully his decision, even though it was so gratifying seeing "Till win" and Mizi's acknowledgment, do you think he would have done that if he wasn't desperate and just doing what he felt like he had to do to survive? Because he had to stay by Mizi's side in her darkest moment like she was the one beacon of hope and happiness for him?

Till only suffers when he thinks back to round 6. When he's reminded of regret and pain. So, he represses the very memory of it to protect himself, he can't bring himself to even acknowledge it at all until he's forced to, when the aliens were intimidating him with Mizi's missing poster, he fights back out of anger. Just having that weakness, his guilt, and his grief used against him feels like a different kind of collar. Till thinks back to these warm, intangible memories of his childhood because life on stage was never something he could make his own, he didn't want to live for anything Alien Stage offered him, power, fame, etc. Despite his passion for music, Till is gentle and emotional at heart. This throne that is elevated high by bloodied corpses, a life living stagnant and trapped under the suffocating palm of an Alien, at the very top but inexplicably expendable, was never Till's vision of a life worth living. That's why he fought like hell for the life he wanted, for the life that he could've had. It really drives the point home when his final thoughts were centered around those moments when he was the happiest in his life.

It is so hard to feel the beauty, the warmth, in this image when everything around him is inauthentic, and it's off-putting because of the underlying details, especially since because of his gown, this scene might have taken place after one of those experiments or 'classes' it's a very subtle reminder of their reality. But his smile is so real in the moment without the collar, without the pain... he looks so carefree and full of life

And he scrunches his nose when he laughs *gets shot*

[br-disaster]

Sect Leader Nie is immune to grumpy teenagers

[skunkes]

thank god for the rarity of befriending ppl you really click with. It hadn't happened to me in so long... <- and this will start making you feel like you're unlovable and that there's something wrong with u

[dawnthefluffyduck]

Crazy issues that come up when a character is written a little too well