#its a fun little difference

[deathfavor]

   Seiroku is one of the original obsidian eight (unless canon one day says otherwise but i doubt it will.)  Although as his number implies, he was one of the later ones. He mentions, as I’ve pointed out before, that he’s been observing other obsidian eight members going mad for over two decades in his little observational case study on the black hearts. Quite frankly, it’s probably been much longer than that. Closer to four decades. But he also says “Weren’t you a part of the Takeda Band of Bushi until recently?” to Aijiro. Recently. Despite the fact it’s been fifteen years, that’s still ‘recent’ to Seiroku. What is fifteen years compares to a hundred? Not even a fifth of it.

   For him, Time doesn’t hold the same impact. Nor does it matter to him. Bands rise and fall, Seiroku doesn’t bother to keep up with names and details of people outside of clan behaviors and modern advancements and healing matters. Bushi are bushi, so he wants them dead regardless of names and bands. Simple as that. Fifteen years is still recent, only those who’ve been around as long as he has  or close to it are ‘not recent.’ Especially when it seems there’s likely a good number of numbers that are traded in and out for both Kazumasa to remark on the many brothers and sisters who’ve fallen, as well as Seiroku’s implications of his statements. Once you hit closer to three-fifths a century then maybe he’ll stop calling things recent.

[vinestaff]

sighs. another guy in my brain i guess

[lilybug-02]

Eimmet High...temmiE high. OMG!

Part 28 || First || Previous || Next...(Hiatus)

--Full Series--

Next update may take...much longer! I have finals and an internship and not to mention I have to draw- A LOT :')

[bacchuschucklefuck]

doing chibi is a good design exercise bc it forces u to think on shapes n essential details, essentially thumbnailing ur designs. its also a terrible design exercise bc it ends up looking cute no matter what

[dragonroilz]

IM GONNA LOAD ALL OVER THE PLACE

[cloudyydraws]

more mario and luigi doodles but i took their mouths away

+ extra unfinished stuff under the cut

[qunaributts]

hey so this is your permission not to improve at your hobbies. you dont gotta do more or try new things with it. you arent obligated. are you happy drawing the same 3/4 profile headshot of your blorbo??? do that. enjoy walking but dont wanna go further than your usual route at your usual pace? dont. enjoy collecting trading cards but dont actually like playing the game? never play the game. like learning the names of birds but dont care about their calls? just learn those names babeeeyyyy.

do what you want as you want and as many times as you want in the ways you want to. i am actually asking you to do this. you dont even need to get better. crush that weird feeling that you need to be doing 'more'. the goal doesnt have to be improvement. it might happen incidentally but like, thats whatever. you can set the goalposts and then just sit by them and enjoy the scenery. if you decide to move them or get up and sit somewhere else thats cool, but you dont gotta. doing things that make you happy is enough

[starry-bi-sky]

Blood Blossom Au: Baby's First Commissioner Meeting :)

TL:DR This Post: Danny (orphan) gets poisoned with blood blossom extract by Vlad. He runs away from him and ends up under the care of one Pre-Robin Battinson Batman! Starry is loudly pushing her batdad agenda.

(Also known as "Late At Night, When The Nightingale Sings" on my ao3!)

This was a fun rough idea I've been sitting on for weeks, thinking about how Commissioner Gordon and Nightingale's first meeting might go.

---------------

Commissioner Gordon likes to think that he's adjusting to the new normal of Gotham very well, -- the new normal being grown men running around dressed like bats, in military-grade strength body armor, committing acts of vigilantism, -- and slowly, little by little, he was no longer being surprised when this new normal pops up out of the shadows like the world's most terrifying daisy. His shaving lifespan thanks him for it.

....

The kid is a surprise though.

Granted, he seemed to be a surprise to the Bat too.

There's been a string of murders lately, -- which, in Gotham, is kind of like saying there's been another storm during monsoon season. And there's just been another; in some dilapidated building down in south Gotham, with the broken, boarded-up windows and mildew-crawling walls to match. The victim is a man in his thirties, multiple gunshot wounds to the chest, left in the center of the room for the blood to pool out around him.

The place is already secured when he arrives, the building swarmed with officers and the forensic detectives. The Bat emerges shortly after he does -- or, he might've been here the whole time, hiding someplace dark and shadowy. For his own sanity, Gordon doesn't think about it too hard.

The kid is a surprise, and he appears like a bolt of lightning.

He shows up in the middle of a conversation Gordon is having with the Bat.

A whistle, sharp and loud, slicing through the air, meant for open air rather than a confined space. Gordon's ears pierce and protest the sound, and the solemn, murmured chatter floating through the room abruptly cuts off like the swing of a gavel. As he turns towards the sound -- as they all do -- he swears, up and down, that he sees Batman's shoulders jump, just slightly.

At the source, perched on the window, is a boy. A boy in a gray-blue scarf and an oversized black hoodie, one that hangs off his frame and has ace bandages wrapped around the wrists in some attempt to cinch the sleeves. The hood is up, big like the rest of it, and threatens to swallow the upper half of the boy's face whole in the fabric. What upper half Gordon can see, is smeared with some kind of opaque, black face paint. He's holding onto the side of the frame with one hand, on his hip is a grappling hook. A familiar grappling hook.

Gordon has multiple questions, and his officers tense up.

Martinez puffs up, brows furrowing as his face shapes into a frown. Shoulders rolling back. "You can't be here, kid--"

The reaction is immediate, like a spark to gunpowder, the boy yanks his fingers from his mouth and his mouth twists into a scowl. Head snapping over to Officer Martinez, his hood manages to stay on but Gordon swears that as he bares his teeth, the glint makes them look sharper than they should be. His voice is rasp and quiet and harsh; snappish in its hissing; "Put a fuckin sock in it, Martinez. I'm not stayin."

Martinez reels back, and the boy immediately veers his attention off him. Like a switch, his demeanor drops. Despite half his face being covered, his mouth twists into a cringing, apologetic smile. Slanted and off-beat, embarrassed. It'd be disarming if this wasn't Gotham, and if he didn't just hiss at Martinez like he was about to bite his head off.

"Sorry." He whispers, voice deceptively polite and softer now. Gordon has to strain his ears to hear him. "I was looking for him."

He points his finger towards-- Gordon? No, Gordon follows the direction, and finds himself looking at -- the Bat.

The Bat, who always looks stiff as a pole, now looks even stiffer. Somehow. Well, the explains the grappling hook attached to the boy's waist.

"What are you doing here?" The Bat says, gruff and unable to completely smother the stumble of surprise in his tone.

The boy still holds a sheepish smile, and slips off the window ledge. His feet hit the creaky boards with a near-silent thud, the Batman finds his feet and rapidly begins crossing the room.

Gordon notes the slight tremble in the boy's legs as he straightens. He adjusts his scarf, which droops close to his knees now that he's standing, and slings a backpack -- how long has had that? -- off his shoulders. When the Bat reaches his side, he does as he always does, and looms over the boy like a spectre. A threatening mass of shadows cloaked in all-consuming black. Standing next to him, the boy looks teeny in comparison.

The Bat is a man who terrifies even the most hardened criminals, Gordon has seen grown men shiver in fear at the mention of his name. And yet when the boy looks up at him, he doesn't even flinch.

Instead, his sheepish smile melts away like ice under the sun, holding only traces of his previous embarrassment. It remains as a shadow on his face, a small upturn at the corners of his mouth. The boy pushes his hood back just enough to reveal glinting, ice-flint eyes surrounded in tar-black face paint. He holds the backpack up with one arm. "You forgot this."

[shkika]

This has probably already been asked, but you said that W1 goes through the events of the game in V1s place. So what happens when it meets Gabriel? Would it avoid him, attack the same as in game, or do something different? Love the AU; some of the best quality work in here!

A gentle reminder.

I think W1 is capable of more spite than V1 alone!

[starrysharks]

attack number 2 on @milkkirie on twitter!

[sunshinepixels]

Dawn

[anemonet]

[Outtake from iterator Prosperity of Populace final speach to her citizen before its disassembly.]

[d444lso]

since abduction magazine, vol. 23: formerly, grape

- magazine spread edited and interviewed by scarlett lankford - band photographed by india rivas

[cuteiemonster]

Honestly I don't have much of an explanation outside of I like the irony of a Blind Watcher. And. Well. Grian is right there for things to go awry like that. So,

This was created for the 2024 Reverse Big Bang hosted by @mcytblraufest !! Us artists had to create artwork for the writers to claim this time around! >:)

and speaking of writers.. my art garnered the attention of not one, but two writers, who both created fanfics based off of my art!! It's been such a cool experience seeing how differently they've both taken things and they're both VERY WELL DONE!!!!!!!!

" Glass " by @honeylashofficial

Parts make up a whole, but Mumbo hasn't been a part of anything for a very long time. He was okay with that though. The world was more than welcome to continue outside his window, as long as he had his oven and his cable tv all to himself. But every once in a while, the outside world comes inside, and he has to chase it back out with a broomstick. This time, his technique backfires in a way he never could have imagined. Or... Mumbo could count the number of his friends without even raising a hand. Who knew that a 30,000 year-old creature stealing his bed comforter could change that?

" Lost To The End " by Sary_Sary

Six months ago, Mumbo’s closest friend vanished without a trace, leaving nothing but unanswered questions. 6 months later, a strange creature appears in his bedroom, with no inkling of how or why. With no clue how this creature got there or what it wants, Mumbo is thrown into a whirlwind of confusion as he tries to figure out what is going on. Now, Mumbo has to continue trying to figure out where Grian went, all while learning what this creature even is, and how to help him without harming him in the process. To make matters worse, the only person who can help him unravel this mystery is the one person Mumbo swore he would never work with: Scar.

[cradle-of-darkness]

guess who watched epithet erased........ 😢

[vela-pulsars]

not enough stonjourner art out there