#and like i just saw the opportunity

[mo0nyy4siir1us]

I've seen a few post-war Werewolf!Draco fanfics. But has anyone ever thought about how much it could change the story if younger Draco was a werewolf?

This is my personal idea!

In 1993, August 2nd (full moon) Lucius and Draco are in Knockturn Alley for whatever reason, and Draco gets attacked by a werewolf that was wandering around. He gets bitten. Lucius can't look Draco in the eyes for weeks.

September 1st is a full moon, and Draco doesn't want to go back to Hogwarts, he just can't. Not like this. He spends his first full moon in his mother's arms (Snape made and sent him a Wolfsbane potion personally).

The next day, his parents convince him to go back to school. He's transported through floo, right to Dumbledore's office. Everything is too loud and too bright now that his senses are sharper. He can hear everyone all the time and it's driving him crazy. He can't stand being outside on a sunny day and the smell of everything makes him nauseous.

But there's something else. He knows there's another one around. He can sense it. He knows he's not the only werewolf at school, but doesn't know who the other one is. Until his first D.A.D.A. lesson of the year, that is. He immediately recognises Professor Lupin as a werewolf. And Professor Lupin knows about Draco himself.

"I know what you are.", Draco tells Lupin after the first lesson, which is boggarts.

"And I know about you.", Lupin replies, with a kind smile.

They chatted a bit, and Draco strangely liked Professor Lupin. He knew a lot, he'd been a werewolf for most of his life.

Every full moon, Draco knocked on Lupin's door, and the professor would let him stay in his office for the night. Draco noticed Lupin could be forgetful about important stuff sometimes, so he started making sure the older man had taken his Wolfsbane.

"Have you taken your potion yet?", Draco asked.

"Yes, Draco, thanks.", the professor would reply.

They grew closer, almost like father and son. Draco cried into Lupin's shoulder about Lucius's abusive behaviour. Remus spilled a tear or two while telling Draco about Sirius.

Draco trusted Remus more than he'd ever trusted anyone, and that included his mom and his friends.

[xxplastic-cubexx]

[right to left]

finally finished This Wip from Ever ago and so now i ask you ever look into another dudes eyes and suddenly want to do whatever he wants

[hinamie]

every so often i have to relearn how to draw yuuji or he starts fighting me

[starry-bi-sky]

i think i'm hilarious -- aka i made blood blossom danny au memes

all of these come from my DpxDC prompt "i am pushing the batdad agenda--" and it's corresponding additions in the reblogs ksdjlf.

i am. rotating them in my head. forever and always. personally i think there should be more batdad aus in dpxdc, their dynamic could be neat. :)

[ryllen]

bears for sale @ letterstoear

[bread-is-my-life]

Smth smth Fortnite had a silly update and I just had to draw it

Refs that I used!

Btw I don't really play Fortnite but my brother is obsessed with it and he also has Toshi's skin because of me muheheh 😼

I think we all should draw our fav skins with those new shoes 🙏 (I like the shark slippers too)

[hollis-art]

i personally think that odo has flown into a glass pane as a bird at least once, and i think quark deserves to be there when it happens

odo was out here trying to be majestic to impress his boyfriend/guy that he wholeheartedly hates, and the glass just had to get in the way smh

[lady-raziel]

hilarious that with each new day that passes a new bit of dirt from JD Vance's past gets discovered and plastered over the internet...it's almost as if this is why presidential campaigns have always announced their running mates well before the convention...so that if glaring issues with a candidate came to light quickly there would be time to replace them on the ticket before they were officially locked in...it's almost as if certain things in political campaigns were done for a reason, donald...because the very same critical failures had happened before...but no i'm sure you and your guys attempt to recreate a fantasy version of history while ignoring all the reasons that history was a disaster will work this time...because you are built different and the 10000th time trying fascism will work like a charm...

[funsizedcrow]

Linktober day 28: Bones

The hero's shade (or as i called him in my tp playthrough: grandpa) is soooo interesting to me...the implications...

[quadrantadvisor]

Alright new Jason Todd headcanons in a dpxdc setting:

Danny is a "liminal" ghost, rather than a "half" ghost. He's alive and dead at the same time. (He's like Jesus Christ (in the church denomination I grew up in), fully ghost and fully human.) Danny, in human form, can go through a ghost shield, because he IS a living human.

Jason, however, is a reanimated corpse. He isn't a ghost, wouldn't have a ghost core, etc, he has a normal human system that runs ON ectoplasm. Jason CANNOT go through a ghost shield, because he is always an ectoplasmic entity. Danny can go through the Fenton Ghost Catcher and be split into a ghost and a human; if Jason went through the ghost catcher, he would straight up die.

(For my purposes I'm gonna say that Jason became an ectoplasmic entity upon his resurrection, but wasn't very stable. Dunking in the Lazarus pit stabilized his system but also poisoned his ectoplasm.)

I do think that Jason could learn certain ghost abilities if he learned to harness his ectoplasm, especially if they detoxed him off the Lazarus waters. He's probably already enhancing his stealth and strength in ways he hasn't really noticed. I think he's held back by the amount of physical matter he's lugging around, so maybe he couldn't fly, but I'm imagining temporary invisibility, or intagibility of like, a limb at a time. Maybe he can't walk through walls, but in a fight he can dodge by instinctively making the targeted part of his body intangible.

[blatantprinterpropaganda]

thame showing up out of the blue at po's place of work just to learn his phone number by heart + a nine and a half hour phone call during which po eventually falls asleep but thame seemingly stayed up to learn to play a song po said he liked which he then demonstrates the moment po wakes up and sleepily says his name one (1) time into the phone... peak romance, and with the way these two events sandwich jun's "thame won't like you. he likes tiny girls" also peak comedy, actually

[buppkizz]

Hi I just wanted to say I absolutely love your art and it gives me life every time I see it on my timeline

AARGHH THANK YOUUUUU ;_; <333333333

[harbingersecho]

let me go, please -- i don't wanna do this!

[lovesickeros]

☆ you sow; & thus you shall reap what you are owed

{☆} characters tsaritsa {☆} notes cult au, imposter au, drabble, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings blood, violence {☆} word count 0.8k

You are dying.

Gold melts into the dirt, bleeds into the very earth that you'd molded by your own hands – a familiarity you do not understand the source of – you know it to be true, yet you do not remember it as Teyvat does. It weeps, in turn, for the way you bleed upon it, the way your lungs strain for breath.

It is fury and sorrow and fear and hatred so raw that your mind buckles.

You will die.

"A dying godling and its judge, it's jury – it's executioners," The voice is hollow and cold, sweeps across your broken body like the first chill of winter, "Archons who saw themselves Gods, now brought to heel by their own hubris."

A cold hand upon your cheek, the brush of a thumb across your lip, the gentle caress of cold across your skin. You know her – you don't remember, you shouldn't recognize her but you do – and she knows you. The cold beckons and you follow, let her kindness settle in the hollow space of your chest. You want to speak, to cry and scream and rage, let the world burn around you in a fit of flames so hot even she cannot contain it – but she silences you, quiets the anger seeping into your blood, quiets Teyvat itself.

"Do not speak, little godling. Guide my hand," She is cold; her hands are not gentle, yet it is bliss compared to the callous, cruel hands that have shattered you. She is cruel and cold and brutal but she is love in the way she kisses the crown of your head. She is love in the way she is the bulwark between you and the world that has scorned you – she is fury in the way she brings them to their knees. "And I shall enact judgement most divine."

They will pray for forgiveness, and they shall find themselves wanting.

"It wasn't our fault!" They cry, but you cannot recognize the voice – it breaks and cracks like glass. "They were too human. How were we meant to know? We– we thought they were.."

Silence.

You watch your judge – the executioner, the blade that shall carve their sins into the very marrow of Teyvat, stand above you like death. As cold as winter and just as brutal. Your temple has been painted in the gold of your divine blood, and she shall complete the masterpiece with their own. The Archons shall become the grandest art in the world – this temple the canvas, their blood the paint and their bodies the palette. The cold that cuts sinew cradles you – it sings to you, whispers sweetly in your ear and carves bone from body in the same breath. The cold presses it's lips to your wrist and it cradles a heart within it's palm – judges them and finds them guilty.

It is her spear that rests between their ribs, her sword that dissects and her dagger that carves – the cold devours.

In the breadth of this divine sanctuary, the Archons dwindle. They become the pieces of a divine work of art, they bleed and bend and break upon her hands. She shakes the heavens and carves mortality into the bones of the divine – your word is Law, and you weave their deaths into the roots of Teyvat itself.

They shall know of their grand folly in every moment henceforth and longer still and they shall weep.

And as the curtain falls, as the world crumbles beneath fist and blade, she cradles your face between hands too cold – as gentle as a shard of ice between your ribs, as brutal as the kiss of gentle snowfall. The world buckles at the loss of six, but she alone does not allow it to break – you will have to mend the wounds of the world when you are well, but today you weep and Teyvat weeps with you.

And alone, the cold remains.

Stone has eroded, the wind has ceased, the flames have been extinguished, the storm has been silenced, the forests have gone quiet and the seas go still.

But the cold remains, bathed in gold.

It wraps you in thick furs, cradles you against the winter storm that brews beneath a veneer of composure. It brings you home – lets the world settle into a stillness and silence that inspires only dread and still she presses a kiss to your brow.

It is cold, but there has never been something so warm.

Where hands have broken you, she drapes you in furs, wipes away the thick gold that clings to your skin. She pieces you back together where you have been shattered, reshapes you where you have been bent – makes of you something new. Not a god and not a mortal but something wedged between them.

But you are yourself.

And you are where you belong.

They shall put you back together and you shall know only the worship worthy of the divine. They shall carve this world into your image, tear out and burn away the rot that festers.

All you need to do is say the word and they shall be your tools to make this world your own.

One word and those who wronged you shall burn, too.

Just one word. That's all it takes, and they shall take away your pain.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Playdate in peril, the homosexual thoughts be upon ye.

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[gaydexvocaloid]

sanrio an kinda redesign drawn with lasso tool ^_^