#[ Why do I ship this. So dark.

[blu-ish]

Head-canon that Sonic gets extra emotional in his Werehog form.❤️

[bandtrees]

they would get divorced in one universe just to find eachother in another one

alternatively titled: sometimes you're the level-headed token flesh-head impulse-control-and-polycule-member of a stubborn, eccentric, and hearty telephone-headed drug addict, and there's cruelty in the world you deem fit to suicidally fight, and that either goes about as well as you'd expect it to, or you learn about love and the value of your life and junk along the way

[veinsfullofstars]

You can't tell me their first meeting didn't go something like this.

(ID: Kirby series fanart of Dark Meta Knight and Daroach in a recreation of the Princess Mononoke "You're beautiful" meme. Original screenshot below the cut for comparison. Top panel - DMK hovers against a starry sky facing forward, his wings breaching the edges of the panel and spread to make himself look more intimidating. He glares down, one angry glowing eye visible in the visor of his mask, gripping the handle of his sword in both hands as if to stab downward, subtitled "I'll cut your throat! That'll shut you up!" Bottom panel - Daroach lies on his back at a slight angle on a nighttime grassy plain, his body and cape breaching the panel in places, his paws palm-up at his sides, his wand dropped beside him. He looks upward, unperturbed by the several sharp points of DMK's sword hanging over him, eyes half-lidded and brows lifted in interest, mouth drawn open in a smile and blushed at the ends, subtitled "You're beautiful..." Of course, every metal and/or shiny surface is lightly touched with rim light and sparkles. END ID.)

Started 03/26/24, finished 03/29/24, updated for color correction 11/02/24.

Original: Princess Mononoke (Hayao Miyazaki, Studio Ghibli, 1997)

[orengejoshi]

Pregnancy as a kink makes me uncomfortable so man am I glad your pregg Flug stuff is explicitly not kink oriented!

yeah I... don't wanna judge anyone... but it's more than that, it's downright terrifying to me. Blame my hormones bc I'm expecting irl but wow... I'm very sensitive and it feels dehumanizing. but ig that is kinda the point of the kink(?)

it's so common in fandoms!

I'm completely vanilla anyway tho, so not surprising.

I've tried to pretend for a super long time that I'm into kink, but most of them are off putting and I consider them intrusive thoughts, not fantasies. I'm kinda fluctuating between sex-repulsed and neutral (aroace) even fictional... ig kink just isn't for me. I tried so hard to get over it. I know some people in my asks/requests are gonna be disappointed but I'm sorry💔

I'm slightly ashamed of how boring I am and I have serious trouble connecting to anyone in fandoms due to this actually🤕 feel like the most NT autistic person ever.

anyway here's a doodle!

[gerandor]

[crimeronan]

ultimately i think the appeal of daniel and armand to me is that it's very much a typical dark romance storyline where the heroine is kidnapped and tortured by an evil monster but using her wits she manages to seduce him and make him emotionally vulnerable to her, because she is More Special and More Clever than all of his other victims, and because of this she enjoys a level of dangerous favor and protection from him, except in This version of the dark romance it's two toxic old men who both have the worst fucking personalities imaginable. who truly just fucking suck beyond measure. like no pun intended, they are Garbage, one is the actual literal immortal devil and the other is just kind of a deadbeat with no moral compass, neither of them is willing to work on himself and neither of them has ANY reason to want to rail the other as bad as they do.

and yet. There They Are,

[lunarharp]

revamped looong mermaid orufrey au :')

[cerealmonster15]

[vibrating a little too fast] Do You Understand My Vision Yet

[spitinsideme]

Any thoughts on the new trailer?

going to beso honest like righr now, lime COMELTY honest righr now, i actually do not care for tadc lime .. at all .. it is not a show id usually watch and when it does come out i will probably not watch ir unless im feing like watching ragapom moments i guess ? it juat isnr sowmthing i actually care aboit .. so sorry to you all i am actually not a tadc fan 💔 heartbreaking im sure, i juat am a daily distrubutor for ragapom art

ive heard about it rhoifh from posts ? the like princesss of sweets or soemthig, she seems pretty i guess ?? sowmrhing aboit pomni beong jelaous for ragatba and the sweets princess, old woman yuri idonrknkw my sources are from gay artists but looks good o guess 👍 im sure it will be fun !

[flymmsy]

Carry This For Me

Ficlet/Drabble/Headcanon - 600 words, Durgetash

Ahead of the likely fatal showdown with their sibling, Durge has one last thing they must do. [Warnings: ANGST, Durge acting like an Idiot, no smut but lots of feelings.]

When The Dark Urge goes to face Orin, their companions understand when they say they need to do it alone. The group does not even bat an eye when Durge takes the Netherstone with them.

But Durge does not go straight to Orin. Instead, they allow their body to lead them down an unfamiliar path that they somehow have memorized by heart - over a garden wall, scaling a trellis, and climbing through a window to somewhere that (still?) feels like home.

Gortash is at his desk, hunched over a mass of papers and illuminated by well-worn candles burning their last. He doesn't mark Durge at first despite the once familiar creek of the window sill that announces their presence - something only made possible by ignoring their ghost for so long. It is only when his Netherstone resonates with their own that his head snaps up to meet their gaze.

Deep black eyes framed by dark circles. Durge inhales sharply and searches for words. How do you talk to someone unknown to your mind but etched into your soul?

The call of their name rescues them from their turmoil, and suddenly all that matters is closing the distance between themself and the man they once knew.

Gortash rises from his seat in alarm, but when Durge presses their lips to his - they immediately feel him relax, wrapping his arms around them with practiced perfection.

Durge breaks the kiss to look at him, a palm caressing his face with undeserved tenderness. They watch as his heavy-lidded gaze grows even more languid, but Gortash only registers the paralytic that had been on their lips when his legs begin to give. Foolishness born of desperation.

Silence lands before Gortash's call for his guards leaves his lips. Durge handles him with gentleness despite his increasingly weak attempts to shove them away. They guide him onto the bed, laying him down carefully. There is fear in those beautiful black eyes, and a pang hits Durge in their chest. Durge reaches for their Netherstone, feeling it resonate even stronger this close to Gortash's own. They pass over Gortash's gauntlet and press their Netherstone into his other palm, tenderly guiding his fingers to curl around it.

They can't afford to have two Netherstones fall into Orin's hands.

Their sister bested them before, at the height of their power. They would be a fool to believe that they stood a chance in their current state. It is better for Gortash to have them both, giving him the upper hand. They might not be able to take out Orin - but they can damage her enough that the combined power of two Netherstones should be enough to finish the job.

Gortash's brow lightly furrows for a moment before Durge's meaning hits him. Then, he is frantic. His body twitches, muscles fighting against the paralytic. The fear in his eyes has become desperation, and Durge is grateful that they cannot hear his pleas.

They press him into the bed to still his writhing. One hand moves up to push back his hair as their lips meet his forehead. They cannot remember what they are thanking him for - all they know is that here, with his head cradled in their hand, they feel like they are holding the entire world. And that's enough.

Durge moves swiftly, rising from the bed before tears can fall from their eyes. They do not look back as they cross the room. From the window, Durge dispels Silence and hastily drops into the city below, shielding their ears to Gortash's cry that carries on the wind. It's up to him now.

[laugtherhyena]

You guys should know i sketched this imediately after that pride month shitpost

[moongothic]

New headcanon crocodile is fucking colorblind

Canon, next

[confusedkittensposts]

Sometimes you have to write fanfiction to fix the unfairness with which the show treated you favourite character with‌

Sometimes you have to write fanfiction to fix your fave's bad taste in Men

[harrowscore]

why are you, as an adult in 2024, still hung up on reylo. why are you still mocking the shippers. why do you believe yourself to be superior only because you dislike a stupid ship from a fucking space fairytale. girl (gnc) get a grip

[acourtofquestions]

Rowaelin Chapter 41 Kingdom of Ash:

She'd rebuild it—what she had been.

Perhaps one last time, perhaps only for a little while, but she'd do it. If only for Terrasen.

Rowan swooped from the mast, shifting as he reached her side at the rail. He surveyed the night-black sea beyond them. "You should rest." She slid him a glance. "I'm not tired." Not a lie, not in some regards. "Want to spar?" He frowned. "Training can start tomorrow."

"Or tonight." She held his piercing stare, matched his dominance with her own.

"It can wait a few hours, Aelin."

"Every day counts." Against Erawan, even a day of training would count.

Rowan's jaw tightened. "True," he said at last. "But it can still wait. There are ... there are things we need to discuss." The silent words rose in his animal-bright eyes. About you and me.

Her mouth went dry. But Aelin nodded In silence, they strode into their spacious quarters, its only decoration the wall of windows that overlooked the churning sea behind them. A far cry from a queen's chamber, or any she might have purchased as Adarlan's assassin.

At least the bed built into the wall looked clean enough, the sheets crisp and stainless. But Aelin headed for the oak desk anchored to the floor, and leaned against it while Rowan shut the door.

In the dim lantern light, they stared at each other.

She'd endured Maeve and Cairn; she'd endured Endovier and countless other horrors and losses. She could have this conversation with him. The first step toward rebuilding herself.

Aelin knew Rowan could hear her thundering heart as the space between them went taut. She swallowed once. "Elide and Lorcan told you... told you everything that was said on that beach."

A curt nod, wariness flooding his eyes. "Everything that Maeve said." Another nod.

She braced herself. "That I'm-we're mates."

Understanding and something like relief replaced that wariness. "Yes."

"I'm your mate," she said, needing to voice it. "And you are mine."

Rowan crossed the room, but halted a few feet from the desk on which she leaned. "What of it, Aelin?" His question was low, rough.

"Don't you..." She scrubbed at her face. "You know what she did to you, to ..." She couldn't say her name. Lyria. "Because of it."

"I do know."

"And?"

"And what do you wish me to say?"

She pushed off the desk. "I wish you to tell me how you feel about it. If…"

"If what?"

"If you wish it wasn't so."

His brows narrowed. "Why would I ever wish that?"

She shook her head, unable to answer, and stared over her shoulder toward the sea.

It seemed like he would close the distance between them, but he remained where he was.

"Aelin." His voice turned hoarse. "Aelin."

She looked at him then, at the pain in his words.

"Do you know what I wish?" He exposed his palms, one tattooed, the other unmarked. "I wish that you had told me. When you realized it. I wish you had told me then."

She swallowed against the ache in her throat. "I didn't want to hurt you."

"Why would it ever hurt me to know the truth that was already in my heart? The truth I hoped for?"

"I didn't understand it. I didn't understand how it was possible. I thought maybe ... maybe you might be able to have two mates within a lifetime, but even then, I just ….." She blew out a breath. "I didn't want you to be distressed." His eyes softened. "Do I regret that Lyria was dragged into this, that the cost of Maeve's game was her life, and the life of the child we might have had? Yes. I regret that, and I wish it had never happened." He would bear the tattoo to remember it for the rest of his days. "But none of that was your fault. I will always carry some of the burden of it, always know I chose to leave her for war and glory, and that I played right into Maeve's hands."

"Maeve wanted to ensnare you to get to me, though."

"Then it is her choice, not yours."

Aelin ran a hand over the worn wood of the desk. "In those illusions she spun for me, she showed me variations on one more than all the others." The words were strained, but she forced them out. Forced herself to look at him. "She spun me one dreamscape that felt so real I could smell the wind off the Staghorns."

"What did she show you?" A breathless question.

Aelin had to swallow before she could answer. "She showed me what might have been—if there had been no Erawan, if Elena had dealt with him properly and banished him. If there had been no Lyria, none of that pain or despair you endured. She showed me Terrasen as it would have been today, with my father as king, and my childhood happy, and..." Her lips wobbled. "When I turned twenty, you came with a delegation of Fae to Terrasen, to make amends for the rift between my mother and Maeve. And you and I took one look at each other in my father's throne room, and we knew."

She didn't fight the stinging in her eyes. "I wanted to believe that was the true world. That this was the nightmare from which I'd awaken. I wanted to believe that there was a place where you and I had never known this suffering and loss, where we'd take one look at each other and know we were mates. Maeve told me she could make it so. If I gave her the keys, she'd make it all possible." She wiped at her cheek, at the tear that escaped down it. "She spun me realities where you were dead, where you'd been killed by Erawan and only in handing over the keys to her would I be able to avenge you. But those realities made me ... I stopped being useful to her when she told me you were gone. She couldn't get me to talk, to think. Yet in the ones where you and I met, where things were as they should have been ... that was when I came the closest."

His swallow was audible. "What stopped you?"

She wiped at her face again. "The male I fell in love with was you. It was you, who knew pain as I did, and who walked with me through it, back to the light. Maeve didn't understand that. That even if she could create that perfect world, it wouldn't be you with me. And I'd never trade that, trade this. Not for anything." He extended his hand. An offer and invitation.

Aelin laid hers atop his, and his callused fingers squeezed gently. "I wanted it to be you," he breathed, closing his eyes. "For months and months, even in Wendlyn, I wondered why you weren't my mate instead. It tore me up, wondering it, but I still did." He opened his eyes, and they burned like green fire. "All this time, I wanted it to be you."

She lowered her gaze, but he hooked a thumb and forefinger around her chin and lifted her face.

"I know you are tired, Fireheart. I know that the burden on your shoulders is more than anyone should endure." He took their joined hands and laid them on his heart. "But we'll face this together. Erawan, the Lock, all of it.

"We'll face it together. And when we are done, when you Settle, we will have a thousand years together. Longer."

A small sound came out of her. "Elena said the Lock requires—"

"We'll face it together," he swore again.

"And if the cost of it truly is you, then we'll pay it together. As one soul in two bodies.

Her heart strained to the point of cleaving. "Terrasen needs a king."

"I have no intention of ruling Terrasen without you. Aedion can have the job."

She scanned his face. He meant every word He brushed the hair from her face, his other hand still clasping hers to his chest, where his heart pounded a steady, unfaltering rhythm.

"Even if I had my choice of any dream-realities, any perfect illusions, I would still choose you, too."

She felt the truth of his words echo into the unbreakable thing that bound their very souls, and tilted her face up toward his. But he made no move beyond it.

She frowned. "Why aren't you kissing me?"

"I thought you might want to be asked first."

"That never stopped you before."

"This first time, I wanted to make sure you were ... ready." After Cairn and Maeve. After months of having no choices whatsoever.

She smiled despite that truth. "I'm ready to be kissed again, Prince."

He let out a dark chuckle and muttered, "Thank the gods," before he lowered his mouth to hers.

"You're my mate." Her words were a breathless rush. "And I am yours."

The world might have been burning around them for all she cared, all he cared, too.

"Together, Aelin," he promised, and she heard the rest of the words in every place their bodies joined. Together they would face this, together they would find a way.

Together we'll find a way, their mingling breaths, the crashing sea, seemed to echo.

Together.

[kay9leo]

Drawing at an Apple Store

When your sis wants to check the specs of an iPad at the apple store and she introduces you to Procreate, leading you to doodle/draw this:

The brain rot is real.