#He's just taking a nap it's fine

[rawkghoulsupreme]

After Bed Time~

This... wasn't at all what the drawing started out as but it's a comfort piece anyways so HERE YA'LL GO <3

Ignore that I haven't figured out how to draw chest hair yet

Or why his lips are smudged and hair disheveled it's fine

[connectionterminated13]

Do you fear you'll rot down here with him?

[revlischarm]

What kind of a god

can’t even protect what they love most?

The inherent something or other about a being whose whole thing is being joyful, confronted with a terrifying situation in which joy is the last thing you can experience. The mania of it. The forced laughter because you can’t stop. I’m feral about characters okay leave me be

[loadinghellsing]

I really like that in your Andercard dynamic Anderson is the insane one that has to be reeled in (usually it's the opposite from what I've seen)

It just makes me think about Alucard going "oh no" realizing he has to actually care for and pay attention to someone else's safety (that's not tied to his soul and shit)

[manic-mutant]

[ghostchanuwu]

Oh gee waow look it's late XYZ arc with significantly more angst and incombustible

I cannot draw backgrounds for the life of me it's supposed to be Lumiose Tower fjjfdjjx

Also Lysandre scary as hell in the anime like he is already my second fav villain in the games but woah they did him good in the anime

[modern-inheritance]

Modern Inheritance: Bad Reaction (Eldest Supershort)

(A/N: I have had this in my head for a while, but Arya showing Iz her scars and revealing the curse Durza left finally gave me a bit of a push for this. Again, Arya and Glen are Platonic Soulmates, Fyrn Breol, and have fought together for 50-60 years, a majority of those without Fäolin. And they just learned like two to three weeks ago that their best friend is alive, only for them both to start going through massive trauma recovery 'it gets way worse before it gets better' type deals. For even further context, Arya is very, very out of it here and just knows that Glen seems to be hurt and is singleminded on fixing that.)

{Glen and Arya tried to test the curse Durza left in her scars. Just a little nick with a scalpel over one of them, just enough to draw blood, and Glen would heal the cut to test if the curse allowed full healing of new wounds over the old.

It didn't...she had warned him that it would be bad, but...for a moment, he lost her again and he didn't know....}

~~~~

BAD REACTION (SHORT)

Arya had seen Glenwing cry before. She had seen him cry at funerals, when he saw newly hatched little birds, when he was angry and sad all at once. She’d seen him ugly cry about the good things and the bad, little hiccups escaping him while he laughed at his outburst of emotion or as he tried to hide the tears streaming down his face as he packed up bloodied medical instruments beside the body of a fallen innocent. 

So she couldn’t pinpoint why hearing him crying, body damn near convulsing with the strength of his ragged, gasped sobs, felt so different this time. Maybe it was because she had never heard him cry like this, nothing so pained, so visceral. It sounded like it was being dragged out from his very core, the deepest parts of himself. 

Arya blinked and tried to raise a hand to touch her cheek. They were wet. His tears had fallen on her face, slid down her cheek and splashed on her forehead. For some reason her movement had Glenwing redoubling his sobs, and it was only when he tightened his grip did Arya realize the man was holding her cradled against his chest, arms wrapped tight around her body, the left one unyielding in places where there should have been some softness yet still so warm. 

Her throat hurt. So instead of speaking she reached out to him and managed to brush fingertips on his neck, unable to raise her hand any higher. Fuck, she felt so, ridiculously weak, weak and sore and like there were thunderclouds arguing in her skull. 

But Glen was crying. Glen was crying and he could be hurt so he had to come first, he was hurting and hurting bad, so she could wait. Fyrn Breol takes care of each other. Pick up the pieces, bring each other back. And Glen was crying and whatever had her muscles aching and body encased in lightning, that could wait until Glen…until Glen was okay because fuck, he was all she had left, and she couldn’t let him get hurt–

“Spirits, I thought I killed you!” If it were even possible, Glen held his friend closer and buried his face into her neck, his words nearly lost to the choked sounds of his tears. He rocked them both back and forth, trying to find some way to breathe. He knew he had to calm down but it had been so…so much worse than he thought, and it had lasted longer even when he had ripped away from the magic–

Head snapping back, a ragged, unimaginable sound of agony, of a soul torn to shreds in an instant. The force of the scream or the body remembering, he didn’t know but blood had already filled her mouth before she convulsed to the ground. Tearing away from the magic felt as though it took eons but in reality it was only three seconds of healing, of attempted healing, crimson still trickling from the tiny cut they had made to test it. The seizures didn’t stop when the link was broken, a handful more seconds until she stilled and her eyes were still open–

“Ari, your heart stopped.” Glen forced it out with a ragged gasp, and, unable to stop himself, his sobbing began anew, curling around her as if to try and protect her from his own memories. “I thought I killed you, I killed you, I didn’t know if I could get you back, and I–I thought–”

A hand settled on the back of his neck. 

“Got me back, though.” Oh, her voice. It was rough and barely above a croak, but he could hear the gentle smile there. “You didn’t kill me, birdbrain.” Arya rested her cheek on the top of his head. “He did. A couple times. But hey…I’m here now. You brought me back.”

“I thought I killed you.”

“I know.” 

“I thought I killed you!"

“Shades can…can eat a bag of the fattest of dicks.”

When he pulled back and saw her cracked, wild smile, tired and sore and teeth stained with blood but very, very much alive and very much still the Arya he knew…

Glenwing broke out in a tearstained laugh and pressed his forehead to hers. “Don’t…don’t do that to me again!” 

“Yeah, I’d…like to avoid that too.”

[regulus-regent]

I don't think anyone's surviving that

[sunnibits]

currently suffering in high school grad rehearsals. post emotional support dilf images.

[jazhand]

Collateral.

——

possibly a wip? if i decide to try to work on it some more lol

[cosmicrhetoric]

aaugh the final stage of alabasta still gives me chills 😭 but im STRESSED. it goes quicker reading rather than watching it but its like you see all of these characters work really hard under a time limit towards one goal and theyre like "this will fix everything" and then something happens and it doesnt fix anything and they have to pivot but the time limit is even shorter and this happens at least two more times. and then actually fuck you on top of literally everything else there's an atomic bomb that's going off in five minutes and vivi cuts the fuse with literally two seconds to spare but it has a fail safe timer and it's going off regardless. and then you turn around and see Water Luffy.

[theriacballad]

“ if I am to rot, let me rot in the ice. “

[cuubism]

that idea about dream having once had wings is living in my head rent-free so have some hcs for the other endless & wings

imo destiny wouldn’t have wings. he is chained to his book, to reality, to the future and the past. he is a force that supports the laws of nature, rather than denies them. he is fixed in a way that dream & death are not. he does not have wings because he is the walls that keep us from flying, the ceiling hanging low over our heads. he is the limit, the boundary, the end. he has no flights of fancy. he is what is, not what can be. destiny does not have wings. 

death has wings, of course. it’s partially because we imagine her as the angel of death, come to bear us away to another world. death is an ending, a reality, like destiny, but the line between life and death is permeable (albeit in only one direction) in a way destiny’s lines are not. death is what brings people to another world. she guides us, lifts us up, brings us comfort at the end. death as the anthropomorphic personification is not only an ending, but a beginning, and it is the sound of her wings that conduct us from this place to the next. she is a doorway, a path, a light at the end of the tunnel. death has wings. 

and then dream. of course, dream. he is a literal flight of fancy, defined as that which is not, the essence of unreality. he is not limited by what is, he is free, he is dream. of course he has wings. 

later, he does not, but i think you’ve done a far better job talking about that than i ever could. 

desire is nebulous, hard to pin down. they are not concrete, they are emotions, they are everywhere & everywhen. if you shut them up, shut them away, they will destroy you, because they cannot be caged. desire has wings. 

despair… she is her twin’s darker shadow, their balance, the falling to their flight. desire lifts you up, whispers that there is freedom above if only you try. despair tells you that there is nothing up there, and you couldn’t reach it if there were. all that is left is to sink, to let the water weigh you down and to drift. to fall. to slumber in viscous tar that will not let you free. despair does not have wings. 

destruction is anchored in reality, in carnage, in ruin. he is a crumbling, a falling, a flame. he does not fly because he is inevitable, because he is not meant for such graces. but he wants to fly, longs for it, wishes hopelessly to escape the destruction he wreaks like a bird that flutters out of a window the moment before the whole of it tumbles to ruin. when he paints himself, he adds wings. 

delight flew, long ago. her wings were myriad colours and full of light. she was the rainbow at the end of a storm, the glint of a smile, the shimmer of light on glass. she flew with purpose, with luminescence, with glory. the flutter of a heartbeat, the uplift of joy. delight had wings. 

delirium does not. she drifts, unmoored by gravity or by reality, separated from everything more sharply than dream ever was — even dream must obey the line drawn between the waking and the dreaming, but delirium simply floats through such boundaries. she is disconnected, a speck on the wind, a hallucination, her movements unpredictable and bound by no laws. delirium is a ghost, and needs no wings.

i love these so much, thank you! particularly the idea of destruction painting himself with wings. i'm trying to decide if i want to posit desire having wings sometimes, my thoughts on it won't fully form... but desire as a concept can be so fickle, so on-and-off, that i wonder about their wings being so too. i really like your headcanons :)

add dream losing his wings to the list of Fucked Up Things That Messed Up The Endless As A Family, particularly if having wings is like an Endless thing at least for some of them. strong headcanon that it's just Not Talked About since dream won't speak of it after how things went down with destiny and nobody really knows how to address it anyway. if it's brought up it's usually desire being a dick about it (though deep down they actually do feel sympathy for dream, plus the fear of this happening to them too). everybody very functionally ignores it and dream doesn't mention it for 5 billion years 👍 nothing like NOT grappling with the sudden knowledge that you can be permanently changed against your will. it's fine

anyway this reminded me of how morpheus is sometimes depicted with wings in art. such as

In the Arms of Morpheus, W. Reynolds-Stephens

Morphée, Jean Antoine Houdon

Morpheus, Jean-Bernard Restout

you get the gist 😂

[toytulini]

Okay i have yet to see a post about this that isnt filled with ppl being Annoying as Fuck on it, but,

theyve found wreckage of the submersible, it imploded (thank god, thats better than a drawn out suffocation over the course of several days, implosion means it was pretty much instantaneous) and the us navy have revealed they heard a weird sound on sunday from about where communication with the sub was lost, that was probably the sound of the implosion, [implied that they didnt say anything cos they didnt want to jump to conclusions without evidence of a wreckage, if there was a chance they were still alive.] no idea what the banging sounds were.

I do hope rescue efforts are extended to the migrants off the coast of greece, and am angry and horrified at their mistreatment, and that the media clearly cares less for their fates than that of the billionaires on the sub.

also, while i have you here,

The difference between a submersible and a submarine is not that one is safer. The titan was a submersible that was unsafe, but that is not because it was a submersible.

A submarine (or sub) is a watercraft capable of independent operation underwater.

A submersible is a watercraft designed to operate underwater, usually supported by a nearby surface vessel, platform, shore team or sometimes a larger submarine.

submarines generally dont go as deep as our deepest submersibles, but some can be down there for months at a time bc it is like. a self sufficient Ship. not all submersibles can go crazy deep, but to my knowledge, the only crewed vessels that can go that deep, are submersibles. (Alvin, deepsea challenger, limiting factor, trieste, fendouzhe or "striver").

[plutonianplaything2]

do i get jealous over someone flirting with MY mutual? yes but that is none of your business

[mrs-luigi-vargas]

I know I'd decided to only write one more bowuigi fic aside from the one I'd already written but I can't stop thinking about the idea of Bowser repeatedly kidnapping Peach for relationship advice and Peach getting so fed up with him about it that she tricks Luigi into being her body double so that Bowser kidnaps him instead and they can talk like Actual Adults instead of using her as a third party to vent to all the time