#oh well take this instead

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

Bruce knew immediately that it wasn't his son. Even if the glowing neon green eyes weren't a dead giveaway, Tim would never move like that. He was clumsy and uncoordinated in a way a normal teen would be, not at all like the trained fighter that he actually was.

Next was the voice. It was nothing like Tim's, and Bruce was surprised that whoever this kid was - because that definitely sounded like a kid - actually thought anyone would be fooled by this. Oh well, he wanted info and wanted to make this kid squirm a bit as punishment, so why not bring out Brucie baby and tease him a little?

"Tim dear, why are you still in the office? I thought I told you to go to bed early tonight! You're going to pass out again!"

The kid wearing Tim's face looked alarmed for a bit. Once Bruce had mentioned passing out and he took the opportunity to shuffle the kid towards the door while his guard was down.

"Wait! I need to get-"

"Whatever it is," Bruce interrupted, "It can wait till tomorrow."

The kid slumped a bit and pouted, but otherwise made no attempts of escaping as Bruce led the fake Drake to the elevator, however the moment they got into the car "Tim" blacked out in the passenger seat and didn't wake up for three hours. All tests showed that this was the real Tim, so what was happening?

Tim awoke with a gasp on a couch in the manor.

"Tim," Bruce began, already getting up from his place in the nearby armchair, but before he could speak, Tim croaked out, "Possessed"

"What?"

"Possession. He was after the device that was powered by the unidentified green substance we found."

Aka Danny tries to steal back his parents' dangerous stuff only to be stopped at the last minute.

Repeatedly.

Danny doesn't even know what half this stuff does, but he's not too keep on finding out, thus trying to get them away from the humans

[unicornpopcorn14]

So we all know by now that Dazai is comfortable enough around Chuuya to show nervousness/worry.

Enough times for Chuuya to pick up on that pattern. The pattern, may I remind you, that doesn't have evident correlation to either nervousness or worry to most people. One that can even be interpreted as misplaced given the situation.

Which means that Dazai has done this in front of Chuuya so often, that Chuuya at first was hella confused, before he finally made a connection between when and why it happens. And still remembered that connection after four years of separation. Which gets us to my point:

What if this isn't the only emotion Dazai displays weirdly?

What if he has multiple unconventional patterns he displays for sadness, frustration, content, or disgust? The times he really feels them, and they become too strong for him to just deal with normally? What if these are the only times he's actually being genuine with his emotions?

And Chuuya is the only one who is familiar with them all?

Dazai would be jumping rope and Chuuya would be like, "quit sulking, let's get icecream"

Dazai hanging upside down on the couch and Chuuya going, "It's okay, mackerel. You can cry."

Dazai actually crying, full on heart-wrenching sobs, and Chuuya unironically going, "What, good news?"

It's just... comforting, for one person in Dazai's life to read him like a book. Everyone else would look at him like he's crazy, displaying wrong emotions/behaviors at the wrong time, but Chuuya knows that it's just how he processes feeling properly, and thus he's the only one Dazai can count on to put things into context and understand, which makes him display them even more openly.

Because Chuuya never shamed him for his quirks, as much as Dazai never did his.

[abstractfrog]

THE GLORIA SCOTT - part 2, and a follow up to my comic for the first half of this scene! thanks sm to @crashingmeteorz for allowing me to source validation for my whimsical cosmic approach to this moment <3

[mattodore]

birthday boy 🎂

[lost-in-fandoms]

I have written this. sort of. somehow even mushier than i thought it would be. cw: probably completely inaccurate medieval-esque terms

Daniel sits in the tent with his head bowed, eyes closed, enjoying the temporary peace. He knows he should go find someone to help him get out of his armor, knows he should get cleaned before the feast, knows he should maybe get his shoulder checked out, but his limbs are heavy and the tent is quiet.

It was a good tourney, lots of old rivals and new faces showing up for it, many exciting duels, but Daniel feels like he's getting a little too old for all this. His shoulder, where he had been hit over and over, aches terribly. He can feel the sweat mixed with dirt dry on his skin, a feeling that used to be associated with a good day of work, but that now only feels uncomfortable.

He should get up.

Before he can force himself to do it, the flap of the tent opens, sunlight and voices streaming inside, making him wince. The person holding it up is for a moment just a silhouette gesturing to someone outside, but Daniel doesn't need anything more to recognize them. He would know Max in the dark, with his eyes closed and his hands tied behind his back, just from the way his soul seems to get lighter in his presence.

He should get up, now more than ever. It's against protocol to stay seated in the presence of the King.

He closes his eyes again, doesn't move. The flap closes.

Max is quiet as he walks closer, even the sounds of his clothing seemingly muted, but Daniel doesn't need words to know when it's the moment to open his eyes. He has to look up to meet Max's, who's now standing right in front of him, face unreadable. If he hadn't just won the tournament, Daniel could be tempted to think he was unhappy. As it is, he knows Max is only trying to gauge Daniel's own mood before molding himself to it. As if he wasn't the King, owner of Daniel's whole life.

Max brings up a hand, gently cupping Daniel's cheek and swiping away some dust with his thumb, before moving further back, carefully slipping his fingers through his sweat matted hair.

"You did well today," he finally says. Daniel closes his eyes once more, wishing they weren't in a dusty, too-warm tent, but in Max's (their, really) bed up in the castle, cool linens against their skin, a solid door between them and the world.

"My King," is all he rasps out, voice as dusty as his body. He doesn't need to say anything more, Max bending down to kiss him, careful but solid, with the same unyielding certainty he governs with, unbothered by the dust coating his tongue.

"You should take a bath before dinner," he tells Daniel when he pulls back, still holding the back of his head. Daniel belatedly realizes his hands are still resting on his knees. His thoughts are tired and slow.

"I'll call..." Daniel starts to say, but Max interrupts him.

"I already sent for warm water and sent everyone else away."

When Daniel finally opens his eyes again to look at him, Max is smiling Daniel's favorite smile, the one that's a bit downturned and that makes him look soft and young.

"Let me take care of you."

Daniel should say no, it's not the King's job to help his knight get out of his armor, clean himself in the bath, but right now this isn't the King. This is Max, wanting to love Daniel. And Daniel has given up a long time ago on refusing him.

He nods, and Max gets to work.

They don't talk as Max undoes the leather straps of his besagews, carefully putting them to the side. One of them is bent, and as soon as it's gone, Daniel's pain lessens a little. With each piece of armor Max takes off, Daniel feels himself coming back a little, finding his center again.

He likes tournaments, they're exciting, they're fun, they're an opportunity to see familiar faces that are usually in other kingdoms, to eat and drink and get out of more boring duties. But it feels like every year it's a little harder to get into that persona, the Honey Badger who was almost King. Every year, he feels like he would prefer to just sit in Max's place, on the dais, and let him tourney instead. He knows he misses it, now that it's too dangerous for him to properly compete.

Max is on his knees, getting rid of Daniel's greaves, when the tent's flap opens again, a sliver of sunlight painting Max's hair golden. The page is wise enough to not open it fully and keep his back turned. Just because they're both clothed right now, Max's action would be scandalous enough to get the gossip mill going once again. Not in the palace, nobody bothers with that anymore, not after all these years, but there's enough people coming from other kingdoms around it could become unpleasant.

Daniel watches as Max pushes to his feet. He doesn't let anyone in, accepting the warm water instead, going back and forth twice to the wooden tub in the corner. When he's done, he shoos them away, saying something Daniel doesn't catch.

"Let's get you in before it goes cold," is what he tells Daniel. He makes quicker work of the rest of the armor, piling it all carelessly in a corner, but as soon as Daniel's undergarments come off, he pauses, fingers grazing over what Daniel knows will be a bad bruise on his shoulder.

"Do you need a cold compress?" Daniel shakes his head, even if he probably does. It would be too much work, to go ask for it, and he just wants to be clean.

He wonders, far from the first time, what people would say, if they saw Max like this. Their King, the feared Lion, on his knees, helping Daniel out of his braies, ducking under his arm to guide him to the bath, wetting a rag to clean his face.

It doesn't matter anyway. Nobody gets to see this. This is for Daniel only. This Max, the one who giggles at Daniel's jokes, whose cheeks blush crimson with his kisses, who unravels under his fingers, who gets on his knees again and again, uncaring of his title. This Max has always been Daniel's, even back when they were both just knights, Max as green and bold as they come. Daniel's, even when he got a crown on his head and Daniel got a permanent spot on his right. Daniel's, through the hard years, the summer droughts and long winter nights.

He reaches up as Max washes his hair, grabbing his hand and kissing the ring on his index finger, the twin of the one Daniel wore on a chain.

"Thank you, Max" he says, leaning his head back to be able to look at Max's face.

Max brushes a wet curl off his forehead, eyes soft.

"Always."

[glitchinginthegarden]

"Y'ready to go, V?"

[starrysharks]

reassassination swap AU... fuckin.... unassassination idfk

[yoosung-ah]

a brief summary of Mystic Messenger (OG edition) x

[sealrock]

first kill.

[puppyeared]

i feel like im not making any sense but does anyone else feel like there are stories that let u run with them and ones that spell everything out for you

[seaweedstarshine]

“They engineered a psychopath to kill you.” “Totally married her. I'd never have made it here alive without River Song.”

Sources: Let's Kill Hitler, Diary of River Song: My Dinner With Andrew, Closing Time, The Husbands of River Song, Diary of River Song: The Furies, Diary of River Song: Animal Instinct, The Ruby's Curse, Time of the Doctor

[kobochasketch]

A cool Lady rockin’ a fur coat! (inspired by @fabdante‘s lovely Devil May Cry art of all the various fun alternate outfits and fabulous fur coats!!!) ;D

[screwpinecaprice]

While venturing an ancient gem temple, they stumbled upon a modified light that can corrupt humans! Connie was able to fully move Steven out of the beam's range by pushing him off the stairs.

Commissioned by TheTinman1996! Thank you for commissioning!! 😁

[naariel]

Brunebjørn Druid Halsin

-

Based on Kvitebjørn Kong Valemon by Theodor Kittelsen. As a kid I always really enjoyed that painting, and the norwegian folktale it depicts. So naturally I had to recreate it with Halsin and Gaia.

[tblsomedoodles]

Ninja Club's Masterpost cover

i will be slowly doing up covers for all my au's masterposts, similar to how PA's masterpost was done. Starting with Ninja Club for 'i wanted to draw them' reasons. And they turned out exceptionally cute as a result : )

Now i just have to figure out what i'll do for the others

[lavendel081]

Expecting🌻