#You can see I love Dark Matter

[yarmiko-art]

Your child is melting lmao

Gooey is pretty much kind of a shapeshifter and solidity of his from heavily depends on his mental state. Any extreme emotion can make him loose his grip on the body, so he kinda starts melting over. Most common nominators for that are negative emotions: fear, grief, shock. Being especially specific - something BAD happening to Kirby (pic 1)

Tho it also can be excitement or exhaustion. The extent of the body melting is fully up to intensity of the emotion

....And in a very rare cases, it can be anger

I rumble a bit abt DM biology under the cut

All Dark Matter are shapeshiters outside of the hosts. They're capable of changing their form since it's not solid from the beginning, but it can't happen purely by the power of will. Dark Matter's appearance very heavily depends on it's way of preciving itself.

Due to their nature being part of the hive mind, DM unit doesn't have an individuality in normal conditions - thus rarely any different traits. They might have some, but those mostly caused by environment and adaption to it.

When unit is separated from the hive, they start to accumulate more and more individualistic traits, gaining sense of self. It's a mix of "what I want to be" and "what I see in the mirror". If that makes any sense. More humanoid form, number of limbs and much more trivial traits like height are born exactly from that mix.

Gooey, growing up in Dreamland for most of his life, just tried to copy Kirby at everything, therefore perceiving himself as a child, growing along with Kirby. It isn't far from truth, cuz even as a DM unit they were pretty young. Haven't even figured out how to morph fingers yet (opposite thumbs are pretty usefull evolutional trait)

[sergle]

I always think it's funny when I see one of those posts from someone going I can't BELIEVE people talk about Ghibli films as aesthetic comfort sweet soft movies, these movies are about DARK FUCKED UP subject matter and heavy topics like DEATH and WAR and then you can scroll a little further and you can see reblogged clips from Ghibli movies of slow pans across sprawling meadows and beautifully rendered alien fauna or cozy villages with the most beautiful piano score played over it, sandwiched between moments of genuine human compassion and connection, quiet sequences of people performing mundane tasks, and I'm like yeah man that's crazy, definitely people are crazy if they associate these things w their corresponding movies. personally, I sit down to watch Kiki's Delivery Service stone-faced as I meditate on the Loss Of Innocence and I don't experience any other parts of the movie. only the serious bits. I don't reblog a single aesthetic gifset from the movie because then that means I would be Missing The Point

[canisalbus]

It's quite funny having followed you for years and years and knowing Machete as his dark, bloodied, cunning (and always on the edge of getting horribly murdered for his hubris) incarnation, and coming into 2024 and just... yeah he's gay now. Maybe he's even happy. Redemption at last... perhaps he DID get assassinated indeed and all those AUs are just his personal afterlife (does he get to go to Heaven? Seems so!)

.

[veinsfullofstars]

👁️ Kirbtober 2024 Day 14: Miracle 👁️

(ID: Kirby series fanart of Zero Two looming over a newly-created Miracle Matter, gazing down upon it inscrutably with his single red eye, almost cradling it in segmented wings that burst with countless red, vein-like tendrils. The icosahedron gazes back blankly with red-and-black eyes on each of its sides… save for one in the center which sports an iris of orange and teal, tears leaking from it and dripping away into darkness. END ID.)

“Hush, my dear blade. Consider your failures forgiven. For only in such a penitent form may you reach even a fraction of my perfection.”

Based on my personal headcanon that Dark Matter Blade - after the second failed takeover in KDL3 - might've been “repurposed” by his resurrected god into Miracle Matter.

Previous Day | Next Day | Prompt List (made by @/paintpanic)

Started on 09/18/24, finished on 09/19/24. | Kirbtober 2023 Comp

[saltynsassy31]

Frye Fest - Final Countdown

<- Previous - Part 4 - Next ->

[4/20]

🍫Team Milk Chocolate🍫

Splatfest 11-02-2023

[Master Post - coming soon]

[rainyyy-dayysss]

You can't change the people around you, but you can change the people around you

[birdseyeart]

' You told her she could do anything, and, for you, all she wanted to do… was be kind. '

Enver & Dirge

[sysig]

Having fun, more and more! (Patreon)

[ludinusdaleth]

lately every c3 episode i finish i go "wow, ashton is growing more & more, trying to balance becoming a better person with a kinder disposition, with their deep anger at a system that hurt them, and trying to balance justice with shedding their bitterness toward friends. i aspire to take a similar path of learning to be better" and then i log on here and half the fanbase is like "ashton is the most arrogant commie character ive ever seen. see him being happy he was told he should live? THATS selfish"

[arsenicflame]

hi so, checking in (sorry, its personal bullshit again, ill get back to the fandom stuff you actually wanted,,,, eventually)

things. are going bad. like, really bad, like last january bad. like im about to lose all my personhood again bad. im hoping its still just going to be a small blip and things will start upticking soon, but. im bracing for that not to be the case. it feels different to me

i vaguely mentioned earlier in the week taking a bit of a step back, and ive decided to extend that into a full break. my queues probably going to run out before im back, though i have slowed it down some. thatll be the only noticable difference for 99% of people. i wont guarantee any dm responses on here, but ill do my best for the couple of people who have me on discord

i didnt really want to do this again but it gets messy in my head, and ive found the best way to control the clawing beast of attention and need and the things that make me want to be a person i dont want to be is to cut it off at the source. its not nice, and it hurts, and it definitely kills the chances of making friends but. i promise you its better than the alternative.

ill see you when i see you, i guess. i hope its soon. i hope this isnt how it feels to be. i hope the feelings that have existed this week go dormant again. but itll be what itll be. i can't change that

[perenlop]

in general i think im really tired of kirby antagonists that are like “ohhhh this is the main antagonist- actually they’re just being possessed and they’re not actually responsible for their actions at all”

[krbkss]

mha 395

has anyone brought this up yet </3

[acourtofquestions]

Kingdom of Ash Chapter 64

Chapter; Highlights

Hours later, Yrene was still shaking.

At the disaster they'd narrowly avoided, at the deaths she'd witnessed before that wave had struck, at the power of the queen on the plain. The power of the prince who had prevented the ensuing steam from boiling alive any caught in its path.

Yrene had thrown herself back into healing during the chaos since. Had left the royals and their commanders to oversee the aftermath, and had returned to the Great Hall. Healers drifted onto the battlefield, searching for those in need of help.

All of them, every single person in the keep or the skies or on the battlefield, kept glancing toward the now-empty gap between two mountain peaks. Toward the flooded, decimated city, and the demarcation line between life and death. Water and debris had destroyed most of Anielle, the former now trickling toward the Silver Lake.

A vision of what would have been left of them, were it not for Aelin Galathynius.

She'd been asked to inspect the queen when she'd been carried in to a private chamber by Prince Rowan, the two of them borne off the plain by Nesryn. Yrene hadn't been able to stop her hands from shaking as she'd hovered them over Aelin's unconscious body.

There had been no sign of harm beyond a few already-healing cuts and slices from the battle itself.

Nothing at all beyond a sleeping, tired woman.

Who held the might of a god within her veins.

Yrene had then inspected Prince Rowan, who looked in far worse shape, a sizable gash snaking down his thigh. But he'd waved her off, claiming he'd come too near a burnout, and just needed to rest as well.

So Yrene had left them, only to tend to another.

—

To Lorcan, whose injuries ... Yrene had needed to summon Hafiza to help her with some of it. To lend her power, since Yrene's had been so depleted.

The unconscious warrior, who had apparently tumbled right off Farasha as he and Elide had passed through the gates, didn't so much as stir while they worked on him.

That had been hours ago. Days ago, it felt.

Yes, she needed to rest.

But a horn, clear and bright, blared from outside.

Everyone halted-then rushed to the windows. Yrene's smile grew as she, too, found a place to peek out over the battlefield.

To where the rest of the khagan's army, Prince Kashin at its front, marched toward them.

Thank the gods. Everyone in the hall muttered similar words.

From the keep, an answering horn sang its welcome.

Not just one army had been spared here today, Yrene realized as she turned back to the water station. If that wave had reached Kashin.

…

Lucky. They had all been so, so very lucky.

Yet Yrene wondered how long that luck would last.

If it would see them through the brutal march northward, and to the walls of Orynth itself.

Lorcan let out a low groan as he surfaced from the warm, heavy embrace of darkness.

"You are one lucky bastard."

Too soon. Too damn soon after hovering near death to hear Fenrys's drawl.

Fenrys's smirk was a slash of white.

"You've been out for a day. I drew the short stick and had to look after you."

A lie. For whatever reason, Fenrys had chosen to be here.

Lorcan thumped his head back on the pillow. "Elide." Her name was a rasp on his tongue.

The last he remembered, they'd ridden through the gates, Aelin Galathynius's unholy power spent. Then oblivion had swept in.

"Helping with the healing in the Great Hall," Fenrys said, stretching out his legs before him.

Lorcan closed his eyes, something tight in his chest easing.

"Well, since you're not dead," Fenrys began, but Lorcan was already asleep.

Lorcan awoke later. Hours, days, he didn't know.

The candle was still burning on the narrow windowsill, down to its base. Hours, then.

He didn't care. Not when the dim light revealed the delicate woman lying facedown on the end of his cot, the lower half of her body still on the wooden chair where Fenrys had been. Her arms cradled her head, one outstretched toward him. Reaching for his hand, mere inches from hers.

Elide.

Her dark hair spilled across the blanket, across his shins, veiling much of her face.

Wincing at the lingering ache in his body, Lorcan stretched his arm just enough to touch her fingers. They were cold, their tips so much smaller than his. They contracted, pulling away as she sucked in a sharp, awakening breath.

Lorcan savored every feature as she grimaced at a crick in her neck. But her eyes settled on him. She went still as she found him staring at her, awake and utterly in awe of the woman who had ridden through hell to find him ...

Tired. She looked spent, yet her chin remained unbowed.

Lorcan had no words. He'd given her everything on the back of that horse anyway.

But Elide asked, "How do you feel?" Aching. Exhausted. Yet finding her sitting at his bedside... "Alive," he said, and meant it.

Her face remained unreadable, even as her eyes dipped to his body. The blanket had slid down enough to reveal most of his torso, though it still hid the scarred-over wound in his abdomen. Yet he'd never felt so keenly naked.

It was an effort to keep his breathing steady beneath her sharp-eyed gaze. "Yrene said you would have died, if they hadn't gotten to you when they did."

"I would have died," he said, voice like gravel, "if you hadn't braved hell to find me." Her gaze lifted to his. "I made you a promise."

"So you said."

Was that a hint of color stealing across her pale cheeks? But she didn't balk. "You said some interesting things, too."

Lorcan tried to sit up, but his body gave a burst of pain in protest.

Elide explained, "Yrene warned that though the wounds are healed, some soreness will linger."

Lorcan gritted his teeth around the sharp stab in his back, his stomach. He managed to get onto his elbows, and deemed that progress enough. "It's been a while since I was so gravely injured. I'd forgotten what an inconvenience it is."

A faint smile tugged on her mouth.

His heart halted. The first smile she had given him in months and months. Since that day on the ship, when he'd touched her hand as they'd swayed in their hammocks.

Her smile faded, but the color on her cheeks lingered. "Did you mean it? What you said." He held her stare. Let some inner wall within him come crumbling down. Only for her. For this sharp-eyed, cunning little liar who had slipped through every defense and ironclad rule he'd ever made for himself. He let her see that in his face. Let her see all of it, as no one had ever done before. "Yes."

Her mouth tightened, but not in displeasure.

So Lorcan said softly, "I meant every word." His heart thundered, so wildly it was a wonder she couldn't hear it. "And I will until the day I fade into the Afterworld."

Lorcan didn't breathe as Elide gently reached out her hand. And interlaced their fingers. "I love you," she whispered.

He was glad he was lying down. The words would have knocked him to his knees. Even now, he was half inclined to bow before her, the true owner of his ancient, wicked heart.

"I have loved you," she went on, "from the moment you came to fight for me against Vernon and the ilken." The light in her eyes stole his breath. "And when I heard you were somewhere on that battlefield, the only thing I wanted was to be able to tell you that. It was the only thing that mattered."

Once, he might have scoffed. Declared that far bigger things mattered, in this war especially. And yet the hand grasping his ... He'd never known anything more precious.

Lorcan ran his thumb over the back of her hand. "I am sorry, Elide. For all of it."

"I know," she said softly, and no regret or hurt dimmed her face. Only clear, unwavering calm shone there. The face of the mighty lady she was growing into, and had already become, and who would rule Perranth with wisdom in one hand and compassion in the other.

They stared at each other for minutes. For a blessed eternity.

Then Elide untangled their hands and rose. "I should return to help Yrene."

Lorcan caught her hand again. "Stay."

She arched a dark brow. "I'm only going to the Great Hall."

Lorcan caressed his thumb over the back of her hand once more. "Stay," he breathed.

For a heartbeat, he thought she'd say no, and was prepared to be fine with it, to accept these last few minutes as more of a gift than he'd deserved.

"Say it," she whispered, fingers stilling in his hair. Lorcan opened his eyes, finding her gaze. "I love you."

"Yrene said you might always have this," she said, her hand mercifully falling away.

"Then it will be the scar I treasure most."

Fenrys would laugh until he cried to hear him speak this way, but Lorcan didn't care. To hell with the rest of them.

Another one of those small smiles curved her lips, and Lorcan's hands tightened in the sheets with the effort it took not to taste that smile, to worship it with his own mouth.

But this new, fragile thing humming between them ... He would not risk it for all the world.

Elide, thank the gods, had no such worries.

None at all, it seemed, as she lifted a hand to his cheek and ran her thumb along it. Every breath was an effort of control.

Lorcan held absolutely still as she brought her mouth to his. Brushed her lips across his own.

She pulled back. "Rest, Lorcan. I'll be here again when you wake."

Anything she asked, he'd give her.

Anything at all.

Too shaken by that soft, beautiful kiss to bother with words, he lay back down.

But until then, he wanted her here. Sleeping at his side, where he might watch over her. As she had watched over him.

Elide seemed to read that on his face, and her cheeks reddened further. "Later, then," she breathed, limping to the door.

Lorcan sent a flicker of his power to wrap around her ankle. The limp vanished.

A hand on the knob, she gave him a small, grateful nod. "I missed that."

He heard the unspoken words as she disappeared into the busy hall.

I missed you.

Lorcan allowed himself a rare smile.

[pleasedontcareaboutme]

i think i finally realized why ive been feeling so damn depressed lately again

sorry for writing this here. im really hurting actually. im not good. i feel a bit helpless too. idk who to talk to bc i dont want to burden anyons and i donf feel like anything could console me right now

Like. fuck me man. thanks for saving me but. why the hell are you not here. i dont want to do this without you. i hate only being able to remember you. i was supposed to grow old with you, not without you.

And. honestly. even with all this bullshit i say here, all the endless times i spend trying to write down my feelings, abt you, about all the pain ive felt my life, it doesnt get better. not at all. and no words, no poetry takes it away and i truly feel like nobody will ever truly understand how suffocated i felt all my life.

and i want to change thanks to you but. i dont know. nothing's satisfying enough.

no matter what, i truly only feel great when im in that daydream like world you created.

and these past days ive been thinking a lot that. i really wouldnt mind dying right now. not at all. because at least i know what happiness feels like. and i want to stay in that state. probably, even in this life your music will bring me happiness, but i want to be trapped in it.

im tired of being so unseen, and even when im seen, im hurting. but i dont know whats hurting. i think im just really tired thats all.

and. ye. i feel brave tbh. i still havent posted my video to instagram, bc im not brave for that. i dont know. and i feel like a hypocrite bc everything is true that i wrote there but at the same time these are my thoughts currently

in a long while i looked up suicide methods again. i feel so hopeful, but im not really sure if really for the future. jm sorry this is probably alarming. i will probably not kill myself but. idk. im not sure actually. i dknt know what to say. i wasnt cut out for this wordly shit.i feel unlovable but even if im loved, i donf want to be. i dont want anything. just let me stsy in this quiet place snd just. disappear. i wouldnt want my family to hurt if i die but i wont know about it anyways. idk man. i feel strongly i could die calmly this time and thats nice. bc 6 years ago i was terrified, and hurt. but now im content and kind of ready idk man. its not a terrible feeling, its a "this is it, it was nice while it lasted" ig.

there are no clouds in my head actually. i truly dont feel like im thinking irrationally, i feel like this would just be like. the end goal i was looking for. to feel true love once. it was nice.

no goodbye yet bc idk how id kms even if i do. But ill tell u guys if i found something.

[chuu-huahua]

i know i was supposed to brainrot this yesterday? two days ago?? *checks through the definitely very sane messages with @downbadforpixels* ok yesterday. anyways, SOUKOKU RUNNING AWAY FROM A PARTY 

no because they would?? (tysm tille for all the brainrotting material) this sounds so taylor swift but her songs basically scream skk so that’s ok. soukoku being forced to attend some gathering of organisations in mori’s stead because he had other matters (that definitely do not include fukuzawa, no no) to attend to. the party goes on into night time and why is there ballroom dancing oh no-

ok but i hc dazai as a bad dancer cuz of his lanky ass limbs, and he feels kind of awkward dancing with random strangers, even if he doesn’t show it. chuuya is an amazing dancer though, which is evident when a bunch of ladies crowd around him, hoping that he would somehow pick them from the crowd of frills and lace.

but instead, chuuya’s hands grasp onto dazai’s ones tightly, and they barely make it out the door before the music starts playing. reddish brown eyes stare down at the slightly larger hands that wrap around his own, and dazai can feel his cheeks flushing despite the cool night air. their dress shoes clack against the gravel and they arrive in the middle of a sea of flowers, a small pavilion up ahead.

chuuya huffs, reluctantly loosening his grip on the other’s warm fingers before letting his own hand drop to his side, already missing the feeling of dazai’s hand against his. they’re finally away from the party, and he pulls off his jacket and throws it onto the stone seats of the pavilion.

dazai quietly stares at him, his hands tightening into fists before letting go. he rocks on his heels to the beat of the ballroom music they can barely hear, and he sucks in a deep breath before approaching chuuya.

“may i have this dance then, mon cher?”

[spacedlexi]

i Need to draw more clemviminnie shit but how am i supposed to do that when minnie only exists alongside them for 2 episodes then dies