#anyway I hope someone enjoys this

[mothgenes]

Part 3

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3

[taxkha]

I saw a couple people do like AUs where Apollo is a magician and I found the idea so cute, I wanted to make my own. Of course Klavier teases him just as much.

[mueritos]

happy pride to all queer children of immigrants

patreon

[madootles]

consumed with the urge to draw with ed holding cat. that's all

edit: metal arm wrong side bc canvas flip

[koholintz]

they’re the family ever

[caramelly-art]

be on your way - daughter

[starflungwaddledee]

did you remember to leave space for all your phantom limbs?

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☀︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ˚★⋆｡˚ ┊ ┊ ⋆ ┊ ★⋆ ┊ ◦ kirbytober 2024 #03 ★⋆ miracle // phantom // magic

[dandelion-roots]

[ID: a digital redraw of the scene where chuuya shoots dazai in the shoulder. on the top of the drawing is chuuya holding a guy to dazai's head in the red and grey hallways of the prison. on the bottom of the drawing is dazai's pained face. the gunshot is shown stylistically as hectic lines behind his bloody shoulder. over the image is half a quote from goncharov that reads 'if we really were in love you wouldn't have missed.' the signature says dandelion-roots. end ID]

This quote from Goncharov (1973) in relation to soukoku has been haunting me from before I even got to that scene in the anime (the full thing is: Katya- Of course we're in love, that's why I tried to shoot you/ Goncharov- If we really were in love you wouldn't have missed). Violence as a tool for communicating emotions, especially love and hatred, especially love and hatred makes me go feral- how could I not think of the iconic quote that says that katya's miss was a sign of a lack of love/a fake love when chuuya didn't miss? Just... losing it over here.

[tagarilaghost]

I SWEAR CELEBI'S THINGY IS COMING SOON BUT I REALLY WANTED TO POST THIS ALRIGHT

yeaah... future trio got me too...

and Darkrai is there too, because of course he is.

hey look i drew a cute Drifloon :D

...ignore the rest

whatever started at Darkrai doodles ended in brainrot of future trio + darkrai and I'm blaming @scribz-ag24 for this

[sheepwithspecs]

i don't normally make posts about things myself but i keep thinking about how the whole point of EW was that the strength you needed didn't come from a god, or a supreme being, or a primal or anything: it all comes from you

your love for this world and your friends and everything that you allow purpose and meaning- that is what gives you the strength to climb to your feet, even when you feel utterly alone at the end of the universe

In Shb we had Ardbert who gave us the strength to take that next step, but in EW we are alone (save for Zenos i guess but this ain't about him). That's why even though I agree that "it was the ancients" is becoming an extremely stale take, I still forgive MotR and the Twelve because it's hammering in EW's theme of being enough to handle what life throws at you without needing to rely on something much larger than yourself

EW's plot- and even the Omicron quests -point to the fact that dynamis alone does nothing. It has to be moved to action by feelings/emotions for it to work. As N-7000 says, "all [dynamis] requires is for us to ask "what if?""

Zodiark did not save the Ancients. Hydaelyn cannot save Her Children. The Twelve do not answer your cries. Primals are bound to the prayers of those that summon them.

The Warrior of Light is an imperfect being. More talented than most, but imperfect yet. EW does not make you a god. It shows that change can be wrought by anyone, at any time. You need not do it alone: there are others willing to come to your aid. But when you are alone, at the end of your rope, facing insurmountable odds: the strength you need can only come from within.

[madootles]

watched over the garden wall today for the first time! I love u horror fantasy mystery genre

[thelonelyshore-if]

Croft Drabble

Or, Croft wakes up next to MC for the first time.

Yellow-tinged dawn light leaks in through the gaps in the blinds. 

The bedroom is warm, much warmer than they’d like, and something sharp is digging into their eyebrow. Croft sleepily reaches up, slowly drawing awake as they fumble for their piercing there, worried it’s gotten caught on something.

Instead they find a paw reaching out and poking them.

“Bones, lemme be,” they mumble, still mostly asleep. They turn their back on their cat, ready to burrow deeper under the covers. Maybe if she can’t reach them she’ll leave them alone.

They manage to roll over without issue. The problem comes when they bump into something warm and solid and altogether surprising. Their heart leaps into their throat as they feel your weight shift against their torso. 

Right. You stayed over last night.

The proximity between your two bodies is small enough that Croft can feel the warmth of your skin. They lay pinned between your sleeping form and their hungry cat. Shit, shit, shit.

Croft needs to figure out what the hell their next step is.

It's still early enough that the room is bathed in darkness. The morning glow from the window outlines you in dull light. They watch the slow rise and fall of your chest, mind spinning and mouth dry. You appear to be soundly asleep.

Which is good, because Croft is freaking out. 

They need to think about this, but they’re struggling to make sense of anything when you’re so close to them that any shift of their body shrinks the space between you. Bones mews in their ear and they want to push her away, but they don’t dare risk waking you. They’re completely paralyzed.

Where are they supposed to put their arms? Can they wrap them around you? Are they allowed? You stayed over, and their body buzzes with the memory of the night before, but this feels so intimate. So close. It’s been years since they’ve woken up beside somebody, and they’ve forgotten all the rules.

Bones hmmphs, halfheartedly pawing at their face one last time before hopping off the bed. Thank god. They need a minute to think, and her begging for breakfast isn’t making this any easier.

Their eyes trace the backlit lines of your body with an interest that isn’t nearly as detached as they’d like. An anxious, fluttering sort of feeling blossoms in their chest. 

Butterflies in the stomach is an apt description, but so cliché. A torso full of insects is a concept made for horror, and yet it's a descriptor so often used in romance. They’re briefly distracted when they wonder at the origin of the idiom. A familiar annoyance unfurls when they remember they can't just look it up. 

Focus. They need to think. You'll wake up eventually, and they need to figure out how to be normal when you do. 

Croft’s breath hitches when you roll over. Panic sets their thoughts unraveling when, for a moment, they’re worried you’ve woken. They’re not ready, they don’t know what to say. They scoot backward in the bed, trying to put more space between you for no reason other than their own uncertainty. Thankfully, you remain asleep.

Your eyes are closed, expression lax. Peaceful. Your lips hang open, the soft curve of them a siren's song. Croft remembers how those lips felt against theirs, hot and eager, and–

Wait. Frustration flares and they’re sidetracked again. Another cliché. A siren's song. Basic and unimaginative. Can they really come up with no better way to frame their own desire? Especially when it consumes them so thoroughly that just the thought of last night sets their cheeks on fire. There must be something better. They lose themself for a moment in trying to find the right words.

Croft closes their eyes, silently chiding themself. Their thoughts aren't a narrative, a garden of words needing to be pruned down to the roots with shears until they resemble something half passable. 

It's just…they're so nervous. Easier to berate themself for thinking in clichés then focus on the pit of dread in their gut. 

No, not dread, this isn't one of their novels and they don't dread this. It's the wrong word, it's more like terror and fuck that isn't right, either, and they're doing it again. Spiraling into the word choice for the book they're writing in their head rather than dealing with the storm of emotions pinning them to the bed like a butterfly being pinned under glass and– 

You move closer, shifting your body until you’re nuzzling into them. 

Croft stops. Stops thinking, stops breathing, stops being. 

They don’t dare move. You’re so close. They still don’t know where to put their arms, but apparently you want to be close to them. They hesitantly wrap one arm around you and you make a noise, a pleased little sigh that makes them want to cry. The way you press against them shuts off their brain.

You stir.

“What time ‘s it?” you mumble. 

“No idea,” they answer, voice breathy. Uncertain. They can hardly believe you’re here.

“‘Kay.”

You smile against their chest. Your breath is hot. It tickles, and Croft’s breath hitches when you press a kiss to their sternum. 

Croft feels like they're going to throw up. Or cry. Or maybe both. 

You just feel so fucking good. You slot together perfectly, like you were made to lay interlocked in each other's arms. They lay frozen, but steadily they find themself relaxing again. You’ve drifted back to sleep. Minutes drag past and the tension in their muscles bleeds away. 

Focusing is impossible when you’re pressed so tight against them. It’s like their thoughts want to race, like they always do. The panic wants to reappear, to send them in a flurry of anxiety and uncertainty. But instead all they can think about you.

And it’s beautiful. Wonderful. Croft shifts until their face is pressed in the curve of your neck. They breathe in the scent of you. Marvel in the feeling of you. Slowly, slowly, sleep starts to overcome them.

They don’t fight it. Why would they? You’re here, and this is exactly where they want to be.

[vampiricbatz]

people when they’re getting into shibari for the first time

[luxaofhesperides]

Surprise husbands + "How are you real?" ; requested by @vehan-tikkun-olam-and-stuff!

They may not have planned to get married, or even wanted it all too much at the beginning, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t going to treat each other right. It was rough going, with both of them coming out of relationships and having secret identities, but time had softened the hurt feelings and allowed them to actually get to know each other.

And Danny, Duke has discovered, is a really good husband. 

Neither of them ever saw themselves as married at 20, but sometimes life throws horrible curses at you and the embodiment of balance and life and death swoops in to save your life. Via marriage. 

His life is weird, okay? Duke has made his peace with it.

The thing is, if they had met naturally and started off as friends, Duke could see himself falling for Danny and asking him to marry him in a far off future. Instead, they’re doing everything backwards: married, then going on dates to know each other, and finally feeling close enough to be friends. 

It helps that Danny does his best to communicate and that helps Duke find the words he needs as well. 

He’s sweet, too, so kind and doting and affectionate. Like a really lovable cat, honestly. Duke’s never been cuddled so much in his life and he’s loving every minute of it. 

He… might be falling in love with his husband. What a revelation.

“Duke?” 

He blinks, looking up from his half-empty plate, pulled out of his thoughts suddenly. Tim and Dick stare at him, concerned, and he realizes he’s missed the entire conversation because he was so preoccupied thinking about Danny. In his defense, it was their one year anniversary the night before and Danny had kissed him for the first time after a date night spent playing video games and talking shit about their respective rogues. 

Tim snaps a finger in front of his face, and Duke startles. He got distracted by his Danny Thoughts again.

“Yeah, what’s up?”

“You okay? You’ve been out of it all day,” Dick says, clearly concerned.

“Oh, uh, yeah, it’s all good. Just… adjusting.”

“To what? Did something happen?”

Duke shrugs, scooping up another forkful of pasta to shove in his mouth. “Yeah, I… this is going to sound kind of stupid, but I think I’m in love with my husband.”

Tim, taking an ill-timed drink, chokes and spits out his Zesti. Dick springs back, trying to get out of the spray zone but doesn’t move far, shocked still by Duke’s words.

“Oh, yeah,” Duke realizes, “I didn’t tell you guys, did I?”

“You’re married?!” Tim shrieks as Dick clutches at his chest, eyes wide.

“You didn’t tell me?” Dick asks, offended.

“Seriously? That’s what you focus on?”

Duke smiles as they begin to bicker. They do it constantly, but this time it’s halfhearted, as if they’re just going through the motions of something familiar to distract themselves from the bomb he’s dropped on them.

In all fairness, Duke did forget that he didn’t tell them that he’s married to Danny. He’s also only mentioned Danny once or twice and heavily implied that Danny was just a classmate at GCU. And then forgot that he didn’t tell them, assuming that they’d figure it out eventually being Batman trained detectives, after all.

Well. 

Oops.

Clearly that is not the case. Duke hurries to finish his pasta before Tim and Dick finish their joint freak out and get their senses back together enough to interrogate him. He can’t escape it, but he refuses to have this discussion with an empty stomach. 

He just barely manages to scrape the last mouthful off the plate when his fork is being yanked out of his hands. Tim and Dick close in on him, standing to either side of him, trapping him in place, and look at him with knife-sharp smiles.

Here we go, Duke thinks tiredly, and resigns himself to clearing up this misunderstanding.

Somehow, he manages to explain the situation (I got cursed, he saved my life, we ended up married because magic is bullshit, he treats me so well) and Tim and Dick both agree to not hunt down Danny to show him the wrath of older brothers on one condition: Danny has to join them for a family dinner.

“Don’t worry, we’ll catch everyone up on your… situation,” Dick says, pulling on his jacket to head out. Tim is already on his phone, no doubt telling someone already. 

“Great,” Duke says, unenthused. “You’ll also be answering all the questions because I’m not in the mood. So if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to figure out a day that works for all of us, and then I’m going to kick my husband’s ass in Mario Cart.”

He walks out the door, grinning as he hears them scramble after him, then twists the ring on his finger (not a wedding ring, but a magic portal making gift) and steps into the portal. It closes quietly behind him, leaving him in Danny’s lair, a comfortable, spacious house with high ceilings and little bits of his personality scattered about. There are soft rugs with geometric patterns on them, star maps on the wall, stained glass windows that throw colors across the floor, and a giant couch and pillow pit in the living room.

Danny’s asleep in it, curled up and looking completely at peace. Duke toes off his shoes and carefully makes his way over, footsteps silent so he doesn’t wake him up, all plans of Mario Cart fading away instantly.

Danny doesn’t get much sleep, with the stress of school and an internship and ghost fights to worry about. It’s why his lair is so quiet and comfortable; it’s what he needs, and he doesn’t let anyone else in without invitation, rare as it is.

Duke is allowed to waltz right in thanks to the ring Danny gave him. It never stops making him feel overwhelmed by how much trust Danny puts in him to allow him unlimited access to what is his only true sanctuary, letting his lair be a place of safety and respite for Duke as well. 

He crawls into the pillow pit, There’s no way to do this without waking Danny up since he can’t fly, so he isn’t surprised to see Danny blink his eyes open, still looking soft and content. He smiles when he sees Duke, reaching a hand out to him that Duke gladly takes, bringing it up to his mouth to kiss his palm.

Sitting up, Danny tilts his head up in a silent request. Duke happily obliges, still reeling over the fact that he’s allowed to do this! He can kiss his husband whenever he wants! 

Yeah, he’s going to be riding that high for a while.

“Hey,” Danny murmurs, sleepy and quietly pleased to see him.

“Hi honey,” Duke returns fondly, “Have a nice nap?”

Danny nods, leaning into Duke and closing his eyes again. “Mhm. How long are you staying? I wanna cuddle.”

“I got nothing going on today. I’m all yours, baby.”

“C’mon,” Danny tries to tug him down. Duke goes slowly, covering Danny’s body with his own, but holds himself with one hand before he blankets his husband completely.

“Wait. There’s something we need to talk about.”

Immediately, the sleepy haze is fading from Danny’s eyes, leaving him alert. “What’s up? Is something wrong?”

“Not really? You know how we agreed to keep our marriage a secret until we weren’t in danger anymore and all those cultists and sorcerers were taken care of?”

“...Yes?”

“Well.” Duke sucks in a breath and offers a bashful smile. “Guess who forgot to tell people we were married after that whole mess was dealt with?”

The nervousness clears from Danny’s gaze as he stares up at Duke with incredulous amusement. “No. No way.”

“Yeah. Kinda dropped a bomb on them and they started freaking out over me being married. Anyways, they want you to come to dinner?”

“When?”

Duke leans back, sitting on his heels. “Let me check.” He pulls out his phone and sends a quick text to the group chat asking for a day they could have a family meal to meet his husband.

His phone is bombarded with texts and calls immediately until Barbara, bless her entire soul, forcibly mutes all of them and puts in a poll with a few dates, setting the poll to close in 24 hours.

“Okay, well, they’re deciding now, but probably soon.”

Danny nods. “Alright. I know these aren’t normal circumstances at all, but I’m so excited to meet the Bats.”

“You do not mean that after hearing all my stories about them.”

“No, I do!” Danny laughs, surging up to wrap his arms around Duke and pull him back down to lay among the giant pillows with him. “They sound nice!”

“The Bats sound nice?!” Duke repeats in horror. “Did you hit your head?”

“They do sound nice! You talk about them so fondly, and yeah they have problems and are dysfunctional, but they’re heroes. Of course they have problems. Even with all their baggage, they’re kind. And you clearly love them, so I do too.”

It’s hard to resist the urge to hug Danny tight enough to make him squeak while peppering his face with kisses, so Duke doesn’t. He just goes and does it, because he’s allowed to shower his husband (!) with affection (!!!) as much as he pleases.

“How are you real?” he says against the corner of Danny’s lips. “How are you so perfect! To me specifically! Honey, if we weren’t already married, I’d be going down on one knee right now.”

“I mean, you still can. We never got a proper wedding either. Think if we offer them a chance to help plan our wedding, they’ll forgive us for secretly being married for so long?”

“Oh, absolutely,” Duke says. He’s already giddy, just imagining what their wedding will look like, what song they’ll play for their first dance, where they’ll have the ceremony… He should create a Pinterest account to start putting ideas together. 

Later, though. He wants to woo Danny properly and take him on so many dates.

Dates which include dinner with the Waynes and Wayne-adjacents, apparently.

“You sure you’re okay with meeting them over dinner?” he asks, just to be sure. He knows how intense they can be, even when pretending to be normal civilians. It took him years to get used to them, himself, and he doesn’t want to push Danny into doing something he’s not ready to do.

Danny cups Duke’s face in his hands and gives him a quick, reassuring kiss. “I’m sure. If nothing else, it’ll be fun to see how long it takes for them to realize I’m not fully human.”

“I really am glad it’s you.”

“Yeah, me too. I’d choose you all over again if given the choice.”

“Took the words right out of my mouth,” Duke laughs, wrapping an arm around Danny’s waist.

“Can we nap now? Now that you’re here and holding me, it’s taking everything I’ve got to stay awake.”

“Yeah, we can nap now.” Duke settles into the pillows, Danny cradled in his arms and closes his eyes to bask in the quiet easiness of it all. 

He really couldn’t ask for a better husband, unexpected as he was. The others will see that too, once they meet him. It’s impossible to not love Danny once you meet him; Duke knows this all too well.

He loves his husband.

And his husband loves him back.

Duke is fully prepared to keep making that choice for the rest of his life.

[little-pup-pip]

Could you do a fem coraline themed moodboard without a paci? I hope you have a good day!!

Yes!!

[mulders-too-large-shirt]

thinking about how mulder loves to get scully a gift, usually terribly heartfelt, even if disguised as something flippant:

the superbowl vhs tape he brings her when she wakes up from her coma in one breath (and her deadpan "i knew there was a reason to live")

tickets for a football game to watch together in irresistible

bringing her flowers to the hospital in memento mori (he lies, saying he stole them from a guy with broken legs to make her laugh)

the birthday keychain in tempus fugit (and when she finds a meaning to it, he claims "i just thought it was a pretty cool keychain")

that is a man who is always thinking about her.