#also he's a giant

[territorial-utopia]

Oh hey look another wip from like, 2022 that I never shared 8,D So here's the next one in my animation study series where I try to copy a piece of animation I like (but use my own characters as the models instead)

Anyway, they're dumb, they're idiots, they're in love.

[artkaninchenbau]

Crocodile finds a strange stray cat an 11-year old Nico Robin (AU where they met 13 years earlier. Robin's been on the run from the World Government for 3 years. Crocodile's 27 and has not set up base in Alabasta yet)

It seems like I have become possessed. By some sort of demon.

Bonus:

[noodles-and-tea]

Twins in time au.... Would Fiddleford act as a sort of father figure to Stan? Since Filbrick obviously SUCKED to both Stan and Ford and Fidd is more than definitely missing HIS son, and of course Ford has grown to love him but they're still BROTHERS.. Maybe they could act as the father/son the other is missing?

ABSOLUTELY!!!!

[akanemnon]

Shouldn't there be a minotaur in the labyrinth? Who put this goat here? This is not accurate to the mythology! /j

FIRST - PREVIOUS - NEXT

MASTERPOST (for the full series / FAQ / reference sheets)

[archiepelago]

You’re on a path—

Hey wait that’s not a princess.

[benevolenterrancy]

honestly. if you decided to create giant fucking corpse-head-spiders to populate your world with then this is exactly what you deserve.

[pangur-and-grim]

why is it SMALL

[swiggity-swexual-i-am-asexual]

As per usual, it’s DP crossover with (probably) DC, although you could probably adjust it for other fandoms

ANYWAYS

A little kid and his mother are trick or treating in another city, perhaps at some kind of event rather than knocking on doors, and the kid is dressed as Phantom. It’s very adorable, with his little ghost-shaped bucket and clearly homemade and already stained costume—listen, white only works if you can just fly over street grime or phase it out of your clothes—and his slightly I’ll fitting wig. The kid is SO happy to be out and about dressed as his favorite, and maybe even showed it off to Phantom back in Amity Park before his family left.

The hero, insert whoever you wish here, is probably in civvies and just enjoying the event. The kid, meanwhile, is so glad when people ask who he is so he can explain, and so- the hero gets to hear ALL ABOUT the local town hero who is probably pretty small time despite the kid’s clearly exaggerated stories. The hero certainly never heard of him, but the kid’s mom confirms that Phantom really was the town hero, despite some mixed reviews of the poor guy.

“Did you manage to show him your costume?” the hero asks.

“Yeah! We went down to the cemetery to leave flowers and I got to show him my costume.”

Wait. Cemetery? Maybe it was part of theme, because Phantom had to be named that for a reason, but… it sounded like…

The kid ignores the suddenly VERY still hero and instead turns to his mom. “Momma, do you think we should bring him candy? He doesn’t get to trick or treat like we do, and I can work super hard to get him a bunch!”

The kid’s mom just smiles. “We could, but maybe we should bring him something homemade. I bet he’d like something more filling, teen boys like him have a hollow leg.”

The kid wrinkles his nose. “Like Vernie with the pizza bagels?”

“Like your cousin, yes. We can make some cinnamon rolls and take them to his memorial, maybe bring some of the apples from your grandpa’s garden…”

The hero is pretty much forgotten as the two-part family wanders off, not quite intentionally forgetting the hero is there so much as the hero somewhat accidentally ended the conversation when they just froze and didn’t ask anything further.

Not that the hero didn’t want to. But they’d learn something very serious.

One—there was a small town hero they’d never heard of. Two—that hero was apparently a teen. Third—most pressingly, the teen hero was both beloved enough to have kids dressing up as him and dead enough to have a grave.

This… might require some phone calls.

[rmtzcoconut]

Slight redesign

[wannabemasterofwindintraining]

You could be nicer about it :((

[panthermouthh]

“You doubtless recollect these papers. Here they are. Everything is related in them which bears reference to my accursed origin… the minutest description of my odious and loathesome person is given, in language which painted your own horrors and rendered mine indelible. I sickened as I read.”

[uncharted-constellations]

~You were just a kid too, huh~

Again, I refuse to make adult mm link edgy sorry.

[medblackcoffee]

Listen, I know it’s only September but in my heart it’s Halloween time so please enjoy dad!gojo forcing Megumi to dress up with him 😈

[tobyisave]

doodles for the postcanon fix-it that lives in my head...

basically k1-b0 got rebooted in a new body but it's a bit more humanoid (ie he doesnt have that mecha looking uniform because it was designed for the show) so here is him relearning how to wear clothes

[morebird]

Keep your distance, darling.

[quimichi]

`✦ ˑ ִֶDELULU SUNDAY X F!READER 𓂃⊹

Sunday had made sure the room was perfect.

No sharp or edged objects, just in case you somehow became possessed by a malicious thought. It was like a golden cage. A big vanity but all products are locked away from you. Music boxes, books, even a little swing was inside. It was a picture perfect room, for him. For you it was a cell.

Every day he woke you up 7am sharp. The sun isn't even up yet when you are roused from your sleep. In the soft grey light of dawn, a hand is on your hair, Sundays fingers gently brushing through the strands.

"Wake up, My Dearest," he murmurs, as he does every morning, every dawn without fail. Sunday is waiting patiently beside the bed when your eyes finally open. He smiles down at you affectionately, his eyes filled with tenderness.

"Good morning," he says quietly, his voice a soothing murmur in the dim light of your room. He gently takes your hand in his, his fingers brushing against your skin. "You slept well, I trust?" Sunday glances down at the wings on your neck, his jaw tensing. They are a little crooked, one wing higher than the other, and he quickly reaches out to adjust them.

"They cannot be uneven," he mutters, mostly to himself, as he tugs the wings into the right position. "They must be perfect." The wings are now straight, their delicate artificial feathers almost brushing against your neck. Sunday's touch is gentle as he smooths them out, his eyes fixed upon the two fake wings.

"There," he sighs. "They're perfect now. Just how they should be." Sunday seems content now that the wings are perfectly placed against your skin. He lets his eyes rove over your face for a second, taking in your every feature with a kind of reverent awe.

"You look lovely," he mumbles, almost to himself.

"The perfect angel, just as I imagined you would be."