#these are battle scars

[kaysdenofchaos]

Battle Scars AU: FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT-!!

BOOM BAM BOM POW POW💥💥💥💥

[antlergrave]

my somewhat-sort of interpretation of Clockwork's physique since she gives me tough mean girl vibes 🙃

also Nina being there too making Clocky listen to her playlist lmao

[pileofmush]

luffy is for the sad, pathetic, touch-starved bitches. the ones who shiver at the mere brush of skin. who wince whenever their friends go in for hugs, unsure of where to put their arms. the ones who are so, so aware of their proximity to others. so careful not to brush fingers when walking side to side with a peer, or when handing a pencil to a friend, because they’re sure that one affectionate squeeze of the arm could leave their innards a puddle at their feet, creeping toward the nearest drain.

when you meet luffy, you think he’s one to be admired, not touched. you see the way he infects everyone around him with his reckless abandon. hanging off shoulders and dragging people to and fro. his crewmates are used to it. they scoff and wiggle under his weight for show: for there’s a sense of relief when monkey d. luffy has his eyes on you. you can tell in the automatic decompression of their shoulders, in the languid way they turn to him—saplings curving toward the sun. 

you see it, and you envy it. respect it. respect him. but that’s the extent of your thoughts on the matter.

you never considered that he would turn his sights on you. 

but he does. 

he picks you up like you’re something shiny, holds you up to the light and squints. and whatever he finds must be satisfying, because after that, he doesn’t put you down. 

it overwhelms you, at first. he tugs on your cheek at the sight of a frown, like you’re the one made of rubber, and your heart does a funny jig that’s actually not funny at all. he pokes you in the ribcage to grab your attention, and ignores you when you try to tell him that a verbal cue would work just as well. he grabs your hand, instinctively twining your fingers, and pulls you along when you stop in your tracks.

and you feel—you feel like a puddle. be careful your mind warns, or you’ll slip.

but luffy’s there to catch you when you fall.

and that’s what’s so terrible about him, you think. he’s the question and the answer. 

and he’s burrowed himself under your skin. 

how foolish of him to touch you so casually and expect you not to revel in it. not to crave his pokes and his prods more than you crave air. how foolish of him to drape himself over you like a weighted blankie and not expect you to desire him by your side, always, to keep the cold at bay. he’s a fool and you’re a pauper.

but, sometimes, you think he knows what he does to you. he has to. oh, how he’ll laugh when he catches you staring at his hands. bound over until he’s right in front of you, place a thumb under your chin and tilt until your gaze meets his. his eyes are dark, but so, so bright. you want to look away. you don’t. 

everything is so easy for him. it's unnerving. he plops his head in your lap one day with a carefree grin. you still—hold your breath like a child playing hide and seek. he cracks open an eye, like he can read your thoughts. or maybe he can just feel you tremble.

“what’s wrong?”

you rack your brain for an answer he could understand. “what do you want me to do?” you hedge. 

luffy furrows his brows. “whatever you want,” he says.

“no, i mean—where do you want me to touch?” 

he shrugs. “wherever you want.”

and you feel—you feel like you want to run your hands over every inch of his skin until you have a mental map of his body you could navigate through touch alone. you want to put him in your mouth. you want to inhale him like a drug, want him to burn the back of your throat 'til it stings. you want… him. 

you settle for caressing his jawline. tracing the slope of his nose. his eyes flutter shut, and you pause, but he grabs your hand and plants it firmly on his face. and it feels, it feels like you’re the question and he’s the answer. it feels like maybe, just maybe, you’re okay with becoming a puddle of a person, for him. 

[blu-ish]

he's there for emotional support💖

[baskeigh-ball]

separated!raph would probably have enough of an outside perspective to question splinter’s relation to them. good thing he can confide in april

[kaysdenialt]

Uhhhh ignore my old SU fanart and take these wips and Timelapse ig? I’d draw smth but I left my stylus in the car 💀

[demonic0angel]

Can we see Atlantean Death Cult again - but from the JL’s POV?

(Sure! I will preface this by saying that idk what Aquaman is like and I’m just casually taking information from the wiki)

Aquaman urged the other Justice League members. “We must hurry! Before the ritual is finished!”

Batman asked, as he slipped on an oxygen mask, “What is the problem? What is happening?”

“The Coven of Thule is attempting to summon a Death God to do their bidding! They hope to use him to take over Atlantis to destroy the surface world and increase their power!”

Batman asked quickly, “What else do we need to know?!”

“This Death God is capable of destroying anything,” Aquaman said worriedly, “and it’s said that he can swallow stars and kill anyone with a single look. He is cruel and formidable, but he resides in a different dimension, so that’s why we’ve been safe from him until now. It’s also said that when he is summoned, he’ll be in the form of a Mer, but different from what we expect.”

Superman nodded. “Alright, let’s go! Hurry!”

Equipped with technology that allowed them to swim and breathe faster underwater, they all moved. Batman piled into his underwater jet with some other Justice League members while Aquaman and the others jumped onto a whale and sped to the abandoned palace where the ritual was taking place.

They quickly attacked the place and brought down a wall in hopes of distracting the sorcerers, but it was useless.

There was a sacrificed dolphin in the middle of the room, with a raised altar nearby. And on the altar was the Death God. Bare skinned, with white hair and glowing green eyes, he was a Mer with an orca tail, a never before seen combination. His sleek looking black and white tail swished and he watched them all with a cool gaze.

Aquaman and the Justice League rushed to defeat the coven so they could quickly take care of this mad God and hopefully bring him back to his world.

But even then, they were still too late.

The powerful looking containment ritual was broken with a smudge of the God’s tail, wiped away carelessly as if the magic inside was nothing. Aquaman’s heart sank and he tensed. He could hear the Justice League tie up the coven, and he almost wanted to stop them from moving, as if it would’ve helped as the God watched them silently.

The Death God tilted his head at them, his eyes narrowing. His predatory gaze looked as though he was contemplating whether or not to kill them all now or to let them go so he could play later. There were scars on his chest that must’ve been some sort of battle scars from where someone had struck him twice through his hearts, and power radiated from him like heat from the sun, infinite and bottomless.

Aquaman was sure that he was about to die alongside his comrades and he readied himself so he could move as quickly as possible, to do something before they could perish uselessly.

Instead, the Death God just smiled, his sharp teeth baring into large fangs. He waved his webbed fingers mockingly as he smirked.

“Thanks for taking care of them! See you never! Bye!”

And with a twist of his tail, he created a vortex and disappeared.

Silence reigned within the underwater temple.

They were screwed.

[wh40kartwork]

by Darya Rudakova

[sweeneydino]

The adults, much more scarred than before(might add April, Casey, and possibly Splinter in a later post)

Each one of them have a story to tell, but they would rather show it. For now...

Also, while I was making this, I was rewatching the series again after completing it, and I got reminded that Leo does not like clothes, so that was convient-

The babies don't play favorites >_>

[cry-ptidd]

The Hellsing family and its leaders

[foxwithadarkside]

I'm not crying, you're crying Summer of Bad Batch Week 6

Main Prompt: Battle Scars @summer-of-bad-batch

[kaysdenofchaos]

Quick drawing as I procrastinate on my paper due in 4 hours

Donnie eventually joins the self-sacrifice gang but fn he’s in the judging and second-hand traumatized department

[tangledinink]

absolutely obsessed with gemini Donnie's piercings! They suit him so much! and i bet theyre fun to draw too!

you also mentioned tattoos! what kind do you think he would get? like what kind of designs and where?

Ah thank you! ; w ; I just think they're fun <;3 he deserves piercings... And yeee he has quite a few tattoos as well that he builds up over the years--

both his arms host meticulously planned, carefully considered, personal and meaningful full-sleeve pieces that were done professionally by sorrelshine's older sister, leafwhistle (she's the one who pierced donnie's eyebrow in that comic!)

his legs are where everything else goes. there are dozens of different pieces patchworked all over-- some done by leafwhistle, some by other artists, some by sorrelshine (who is not a professional, let it be known, but knows how to use a tattoo gun!), some even done by himself. he let leo do one once. mikey has done several. there's everything from stick-and-poke stars to little grayscale robots to brightly colored flowers down here, and he'll shove new things wherever they'll fit whenever he feels the urge.

[ gemini au ]

[pileofmush]

this is a part ii. find part i. here. // cw: reader shares a room w/ nami & robin, vague post timeskip spoilers

you’re rinsing soap suds off a dinner plate when the realization hits you. 

luffy could do this without you. 

the thought has you gripping the edges of the sink; spreads a cold, cold bug throughout your immune system. sanji notices from his peripherals and asks if you are alright, drying rag flicked nonchalantly over his shoulder. you stall, ask yourself the same question. are you alright? you don’t think so. because the truth is sanji is the cook—invaluable to the crew. to luffy. and you? well, you wash dishes.

see, you’re not particularly strong, or intelligent, or useful. it’s a wonder he wants you on his crew at all. 

if luffy had never met you, it wouldn't make a difference.  

it’s a bitter pill to swallow: inadequacy. you are no longer a sad, pathetic, touch-starved bitch, but you are still an anxious one. and yet, there’s something threatening to crawl out of your chest that rejects your fears. something visceral and desperate. palpable; you can feel it thumping underneath your skin. this thing, whatever it is, loathes your uncertainty in your captain. how could you ever doubt him? it asks. he saw something in you, didn’t he? shouldn’t that be enough? shouldn’t you trust him? 

you do trust him. you just… don’t really trust yourself. uncertainty festers like an open wound, and you have no where to put it. so you shove it down, because your emotions don’t deserve to breach the surface, and taint his smile. 

it’s hard to think about these things whenever he’s around, anyway. not when he’s kicking you underneath the table during dinner, or hiding behind corners and grabbing you by the waist because he “thinks it’s funny.” it’s even harder to think when those moments take unexpected turns. when he slips a leg between your thighs and interlocks your ankles, or when his hands linger on your body longer than necessary, slipping underneath the hem of your shirt, as he just… stays there. fingers swiping idly against your skin while he peers at you, curiously. and of course, it’s flat out impossible to think when he presses you against the nearest wall and kisses you until you’re breathless and panting into his mouth. 

the first time you kissed him, you thought you would die. it was on a good night, a cool night. the rest of the crew had gone to bed, but the two of you stayed up, talking about things neither of you could recall, now. an unassuming conversation. but luffy had been staring at your mouth the whole night, and, feeling uncharacteristically emboldened—perhaps due to a few stolen sips of zoro’s booze—you asked him if he wanted to kiss you. he said yes. and it was messy. his lips were chapped from the cold. you bumped into his nose, and he bit your lip, and his tongue slipped into your mouth, and you thought you would die.

you broke apart, your fists clinging to his vest, breathing hard. for once, your mind was completely, utterly blank. “slower,” you instructed before leaning back in. he nodded, dazed. your arms wrapped loosely around his neck, his hands darted to your hips, and you tasted his smile. 

the truth is, you feel unstoppable when you’re with him. because of him. you want nothing more than for him to feel the same. 

is that selfish to think? are you a horrible person? how else could this have gone? the boy had you wrapped around his finger from the very start. had the whole world spiraling around his finger from birth: for he is luffy and he is the most magnetic person you’ve ever met, and he is going to be the king of the pirates. you’re just lucky that you can come along for the ride. 

you’re lucky. that should be enough.

but still. you want.

you want to be indisposable. you want him to need you like you need him.

are you enough?

yes, of course. you are a straw hat pirate, and you are proud. 

but why? why did luffy ask you to join his crew? what do you have to offer? you’re not particularly strong, or intelligent, or useful. it’s a wonder he wants you on his crew at all.

it’s a bitter pill to swallow: inadequacy. you have to hit your chest to get it down. 

“you’re thoughtful.” nami declares after you confide in her, one slow day on the sunny. she says this easily, like she needn’t think about it, like this is a well known fact. she sits cross-legged on your bed, hugging a pillow as you brush her hair. “thoughtful?” you repeat, dragging a hairbrush down her scalp. 

nami turns around to face you, something expectant on her face. her hair’s still wrapped around your fingers. “duh.”

something heavy rattles in your chest.

thoughtful. you’re thoughtful? that’s a nice thing to be. you should be appreciative of the compliment. a thoughtful person would appreciate the compliment. 

“but—”

“but nothing,” she interrupts, rolling her eyes. “we want you here. can’t you see? we trust luffy to protect our dreams, always, but we trust you to protect out hearts.”

your grip on the hairbrush loosens. “…isn’t that… the same thing?” 

nami hums vaguely. "not at all."

her words plague you late into the night. 

thoughtful.

you are thoughtful, maybe, on a good day, but what good is that for the break-neck pace of piracy? are you gonna think your enemies into submission? kill ‘em with kindness, maybe?  

you’re lying on your side, buried under your covers, attempting to sleep. across from you lays robin, in her bed. robin sleeps like the dead. there’s been a few restless nights where you’ve simply watched her sleeping form, counted her breaths, made sure she was actually alive. 

however, this is the first night that someone’s knocked on your door in the middle of the night. three harsh raps. being the only one up, you slowly rise out of your cocoon and tiptoe across the wood floor, but the door cracks open before you can reach it. moonlight slips through the crack, casting shadows on a figure as it steps into your room. 

it’s luffy. he’s in his pajamas, clutching his straw hat. 

“lu?” you whisper. “wha—what’s going on?” 

he stalks over to you. you can’t read his expression as well as you could have in the daytime, but his mouth is set in a thin line, and his eyes… he doesn’t give you much time to examine them before he’s wrapping his arms around you, hiding his face in your neck.

“it’s nothing,” he mumbles into your skin. goosebumps prickle across your flesh. nothing? is this nothing?

"can we just go to sleep?” he asks. there is something like desperation coloring his voice. and you—you know something about desperation. are intimately familiar with the beast that lies in your chest, that clogs your lungs ’til you can barely breathe. 

it’s not nothing, not even close. but maybe he needs it to be nothing. you can accept that. so you pluck the hat from his hands and set it on the barrel you use as a nightstand. guide him to your bed. the bed dips under his weight, and there’s really not much room for the both of you, but it doesn’t stop him from sliding over to meet you in the middle. he reaches out and tugs on your arm until you’re rolling on your side, and then he’s slotting into you like a matching puzzle piece. his knees tuck into yours, and his arms slither round your stomach, and he’s breathing by your ear, and you are praying that you are enough. that you’ll be enough.

you think you are. will be. 

maybe there is a difference between protecting dreams, protecting hearts. 

ty all for the support on this mini series :') hope you liked the conclusion!

[justvea18]

Patrochilles scar map

[mifflebat]

“ search “

@kaysdenofchaos ‘s BS! Donatello ,, made even more ironic by a lack of vision

i’ve only drawn the rottmnt turtles a couple times, so it was challenging to mesh my style with that of the show, but fun nonetheless !! hope yall like it !!