#when i make a promise
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renaissance dogys
characters belong to @canisalbus
#i love i loveeee ludovica sm shes so cute. ive only known her for 5 min but i fell in love with her design and i love her friendship#with vasco ^_^ i think them having each other makes hiding their sexualities a little less lonely so thats sweet#ik in modern au shes considered an old friend of vascos but i originally assumed she and vasco fake dated in college or smth#to get their parents off their backs until they came out properly and continued to stay in touch as friends after LMAO#im not very familiar with period fashion so i had to look at renaissance costumes as reference. but i have to admit i love the#high waistlines used in some of their dresses.. i have a minidress with a similar high waistline pressed against the chest and sleeves#also if u squint machete is holding a little paper bag in the 2nd photo which is supposed to be his lunch courtesy of vasco <3#idk what ludovica would wear in modern au but i thought poet shirts might suit her because theyre like somewhere evenly between#masc and femme. to me anyway.. based on observation lesbians seem to love poet shirts and i think she looks good in one#these are all shitposts.. ill draw serious art of them one of these days i promise#i listened to fools rush in and it reminds me of them.. especially when it goes 'though i see the danger there / if theres a chance#for me then i dont care' like its so poignant and bittersweet.. a little indulgent when u think of those small moments they have togethr#save me gay catholic furries... gay catholic furries... gay catholic furries save me#my art#myart#doodles#fanart#others ocs#canisalbus#fur#furry art#machete#vasco#vaschete#ludovica#sfw fur#furry#anthro
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(what the. who threw a wife plot device in the middle of a peak lord meeting)
i thought about this bit at the end of the airplane extras the other day. bro why are you looking at your coworkers like that rn
#comic: truth artifact#a silly thing while executive dysfunction is preventing me from writing anything#shang qinghua#wei qingwei#svsss#svsss fanart#uhh imagine this set pre-canon or pre-abyss#artifact would have attached to every person in a nearby area and slowly prodded at their minds until they forced a secret out#for it to satiate itself with#so either you tell it something willingly or it forces something out of you#yqy went first to settle his martial siblings trust that its safe#yqy said something like.#‘i was too weak to make due on a promise. i wish i was stronger back then’ with a glare from both mqf and sqq#sqq would probably say the vaguest thing possible that counted as a ‘deepest secret’ to meet the conditions set#this goes for sj and sy#side thing:#i love when truth serum stuff in fics just makes sqq and sqh say the wildest shit
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“I hate the script, the vault dwellers sound so cheesy—“ my Brother in Steel you realize that’s the point, right? They were bred to act like the physical embodiment of an HR e-mail. Did you not catch the memo that Vault-Tec put out regarding their experiment facilities?
#fallout#fallout tv show#fallout tv series#they were raised to respect the Golden Rule they’re a bunch of fucking kindergartners#theyre MEANT TO BE CRINGE#plus if you keep watching you’ll SEE WHY THEY DO THAT#don’t quit in the first episode when you have so many more to explore wtf is wrong with them!!! it’s a good show!!!#sometimes I think people like to hate things just to hate them and I understand. truly. i am a certified hater too#but don't dog something that has reasoning!! you're meant to cringe! and you'll see why!!!#GIVE IT TIME IT WILL MAKE SENSE I PROMISE#fallout spoilers
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friendly pal buddy copy of mine told me uzi would legally need a booster seat so i imagine the bus is like this
#are there laws in copper 9? no#would the other students make her do this? yeah#i dont think you need a booster seat on a bus but i dont care#was drawing something else and then i forgot to finish it oopsies#too busy playing pillar chase to like do my job#turns out art is a lot easier when you convince yourself that not everything needs to look Perfect at all times#art#murder drones#uzi doorman#murder drones uzi#i promise ill have something better next time
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FIDDLESTAN ENJOYERS COME GET YALLS FOOD
#when your favorite ship is a rarepair#part two electric boogaloo#these dorks are everything to me#i can and will make more art of them#this is a threat#and a promise#gravity falls#fiddlestan#gay men with yellow eyes#my art#doodles#stanley pines#fiddleford mcgucket#young fiddleford#fiddleford hadron mcgucket#young stan pines#young stanley pines#derpwithit#stanley x fiddleford#fiddstan#i cant fix them#but they can fix each OTHER
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so rhaenyra starts s3 with a god complex, believing herself to be the prince that was promised from aegon the conqueror's dream... but hugh and ulf will betray her, mysaria will misunderstand her, coryls will undermine her, bartimos will underestimate her, daemon will abandon her, her people will turn against her and burn her castle and kill her dragon. and when everyone who accepted rhaenyra as queen rejects her, the only person left to love rhaenyra will be alicent, who never loved rhaenyra as queen but rhaenyra as a person ("she was the vision that sustained him [...] it was his love for her that kept him resolute in his choice of heir."). alicent, who abandoned her gods and duty to go to rhaenyra on dragonstone and appeal to the person beneath the crown ("i cast myself on the mercy of a friend who once loved me."). alicent, who's made a god of rhaenyra, not as queen, but as the girl she read with beneath the godswood ("come with me.").
#and rhaenyra won't accept it at first#she'll refuse to believe that she was wrong and that the prophecy wasn't about her because she's lost so much#and i don't know how she will eventually come to the realization that she isn't the prince who was promised#but i think it will be when she's forced to sell her crown and make an attempt at escape (maybe with alicent)#and so ultimately#rhaenyra's love for alicent was her downfall#because a lot of the grievances her council has will be directly/indirectly related to rhaenyra protecting alicent#and rhaenyra's love for alicent keeping her grounded to her humanity while the world around her tries to turn her into an unfeeling queen#and so the love works against the system#because the love cannot exist within the system without everything falling apart#so by taking alicent prisoner rhaenyra is dooming herself to fail at being queen#because in that moment rhaenyra - like alicent in 2x08 - chooses love over duty#hotd#alicent hightower#rhaenicent#hotd spoilers#rhaenyra targaryen#house of the dragon
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Her Astrophel and Sterling
hmmm
Hmmmmmmmm
You know what.
You know those AU's where the Batfam finds or learns about either hidden or thought to be dead Al Ghul Danny! with a deaged/daughter Dani (Ellie) (I should know, I created a few of those storylines) but what if, now hear me out, what if instead of them finding Danny first its Talia.
Do I want Talia discovering her thought to be dead son to be alive? Yes. Do I want her to find him while investigating Amity Park when the League gets reports of 'Lazarus creatures/water'? Yes.
DO I WANT HER TO KNOCK ON THE FENTON'S DOOR, fully ready to pretend/honey talk her way into the house to uncover what the Fenton's know, ONLY TO MEET A LITTLE ELLIE?!
YES.
Ellie whose eyes and hair look like a copy of her Beloved but she can see bits and pieces of herself as well. Talia knows the child in front of her was not fully her's though but everything makes sense when she hears a voice, a voice she hasn't heard in ages but as a mother just knows, speak out.
"Ellie! I thought I said do not answer the door my Sterling."
"But Daddy, yous was busy fighting the hotdoggys!"
Talia's eyes widen when she finally catches sight of familiar black hair and blue eyes.
and she could only lightly whisper a old nickname she hasn't dared uttered in ages, a name she secretly gave her son due to his love of the stars "Astrophel..."
#danny phantom#danny fenton#crossover#dp x dc#blue rambles#danny phantom dc#writing ideas#random idea#dpxdc#good mom Talia?#Good mom Talia. Yes#Astrophel means Star Lover btw#Sterling means Little Star or Excellent#Deaged Ellie#Deaged Dani#Danny either faked his death or got yeet from the Pits to Amity#does he remember? Idk leaving it open ended#if he does remember he chose not to return cause he knew he'd be punished#Talia comes to Amity after so many years because the League finally got reports of 'Lazarus' like creatures/waters being used/seen#Is she League leader now? Idk again leaving it open ended for anyone to play with#does she kept it a secret when talks to Danny about everything? I think so if he asks her not to say anything#Talia is happy to see her son again after so long. She isnt happy about how Ellie came into his life but is happy to have a granddaughter#she totally holds Ellie everytime she visits and promises to teach her how to make the world fall into her chubby little hands#Ellie loves her Granmama Talia cause she tells stories of all the places she's been#Eventually though I can see someone. Maybe Damian or Bruce. Needing to speak with Talia about something#and they track her down when she's on a visit to Danny and Ellie. And well the secret is out.#dani phantom#danielle phantom#Dani is Ellie
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There are two things that Damian knows that he knows Father doesn’t.
He has an older brother
He was dead
(And a secret third thing: Damian was glad he was dead. They did not get along.)
Well. No, correction, they were two things that Damian knew that Father didn't. Past tense. Strange magic swirled through the air and created a mirage before his eyes, and immediately a scowl forms across his face.
The mirage shifts and shimmers like the light hitting a slowly turning prism, and then it settles into a memory. One that Damian does not recall. Like looking into a tv screen, it shows, faintly, a room, with most of the magic going into the image of a crib.
His mother was standing on one side, and next to her, standing on his tiptoes was a small five year old boy looking up at her. With dark hair and skin that was only few shades lighter brown than Damian's, the little boy's resemblance to Damian was undeniable.
However, his eyes were blue. Not green. Damian's scowl deepens, and he sinks back. "Danyal." He mutters, and feels eyes turn on to him.
Danyal Al Ghul. Damian's older brother. A prodigal swordsman like Damian, and five years his senior. He'd be fifteen if he was still alive. His memory of the last time he saw his brother was still clear in his mind.
(A sword to Danyal's neck. Stars were glittering through his window. Damian was five, Danyal ten. He is not sure why Danyal had snuck into his room, all he remembers is hearing a sound and on instinct reaching for his sword.)
(His brother had intercepted easily. But had not shoved the sword away. Moonlight hit his blue eyes, and Damian remembers seeing the pupils shrink to let the light in. His eyes looked almost silver.)
(His brother bares his teeth at him. Damian wants to slice his neck more than anything, and he bares his teeth back. "Good." Danyal says, his voice low in a hiss, "Your reflexes are good, little brother.")
("Of course they are," Damian remembers snarling, and presses the sword closer. But it does not budge. "I am an Al Ghul.")
(Something unrecognizable passes through his brother's eyes, and his mouth twists into something like a smile. "I know." He says, and tilts his head downwards at him. "And you will be great.")
(His brother shoves the sword back, causing Damian to stumble. And like the wind, he is gone.)
(The next morning, he goes on a mission with mother and a few others. Mother is the only one to return with Danyal's sword, and a red-eyed look in her eyes. Damian does not mourn. Now there's only one of them.)
"Momma." The little Danyal-mirage speaks, a furrow between his childlike brows as mother lowers a bundle into the crib. His blue eyes watch her, and lifts onto his toes to peer into the crib as she sets the baby down. "Who is this?"
Their mother's hand comes to rest along his back. "This is Damian, my son." She murmurs, voice low. "He is your little brother. Protect him well."
Damian scoffs internally -- not likely. He remembers every spar he ever had with Danyal, every harsh word and insult. His pushing, pushing, pushing for Damian to get up. To try again. Do it again. The only kindness he ever showed him was when his fingers bled. And even that was harsh, firm. Rolling gauze around his wrist and scolding him, telling him how to wield his weapon better.
(It was the same as everyone else, but somehow it hurt worse coming from his own brother.)
But he watches his older brother's youngest self tilt his head to the side, and then reach his chubby hand through the crib's bars. He runs small, blunt fingers over the baby's arm, and the baby jerks. Through the crib's bars, Damian sees himself grab Danyal's fingers.
And he scowls even deeper.
And Danyal's eyes... widen. He lets out a little gasp, and a small smile Damian's never seen him wear tilts at the corner of his mouth as he looks up at their mother. "Mother," he whispers, "he grabbed me!"
Damian... his scowl falters, for a moment.
He doesn't wait for a response, he looks back to the baby with sparking eyes. His expression melts like sugar as he bounces the finger being gripped tight by the small hand. "Hello, little brother." His brother says, voice its of usual firmness, but there's more fondness underlying it than Damian's ever heard. "My name is Danyal."
The mirage shifts before Damian can comprehend his older brother's voice. It shows the crib again, appearing as if a few days had passed. There is night lilting through the nearby window, and a creek of the door. The baby doesn't stir.
Danyal sneaks in, still wearing his training clothes and a sword strapped to his side. Damian's scowl returns, watching him creep over to the crib. Of course -- the last night he saw his brother wasn't the only time he'd snuck into his room.
Would he go so low as to attack an infant? Damian wonders, watching his brother cross the room to his crib. But while his fingers rest against the hilt, they never curl to unsheathe.
His brother peers into the crib again, and there it is again, that smile wider in the corner of his mouth. It's not a full one, but its as uninhibited as it gets. Dripping honey-sweet with awe. "You are so tiny." Danyal whispers, and pokes a finger back through the crib. It wriggles, then pokes Damian's cheek gently. "Was I as small as you when mother gave birth to me?"
There is no response from the baby. Not a coherent one anyways, the little thing snuffles and turns his head, mouth open to latch. Danyal stills, his eyes grow ever wider again.
Danyal says nothing else, just rests his cheek against the crib and watches the baby sleep in silence. The affection never leaves his young face.
Damian feels unsettled. Off-foot. This Danyal is foreign to him... He wonders what happened to have changed his brother's mind on him.
There's a scuffle, quiet, but there. Danyal picks up on it just as Damian does, and his head pricks up like a deer, head already turning away from the crib. The affection leaves his face, falling away like water into something serious. His blade is already slightly unsheathed.
Two assassins, belonging to grandfather, burst out of the shadows. Their swords swinging into the air and ready to strike.
Danyal kills them both, his back to the crib. It's not without struggle, and when the two assassins lay dead on the floor, the baby is wailing at the top of his lungs. Danyal has a laceration cleaving down diagonal of his cheek. It's close to his eye, just barely missed blinding him.
Damian never knew how he got that scar. He does now. (He doesn't know how to feel about it.)
His brother clutches his bleeding face, sheathing his sword as tears well up onto his face. But he turns towards the crib, and hurries over. "You're okay, you're okay, you're okay." He hushes rapidly, the League-drilled seriousness fallen away to reveal a panic-stricken five year old. He sticks one hand into the crib, the one not clutching anything, and grabs little Damian's hand.
Their mother comes bursting in that moment, and Danyal turns his head towards her. "Mother." He says, his voice cracks un-wantingly. Their mother steps over the bodies of the assassins easily. "They tried to kill Damian."
"But they did not." Talias says, kneeling down next to the crib to inspect Danyal's face and Damian's well-being. When she finds nothing of concern beyond the injury, she continues. "You killed them before they could, Danyal. Well done."
The mirage of his brother nods, his eyes teary and red.
Damian... is discomfited. he never thought Danyal would kill assassins for him. He would have thought his brother would sooner look the other way. The mirage shifts again, and it quickly shows time passing.
Danyal sits in Damian's nursery every night, after that. He lays at the foot of the crib with his sword, a pillow and a blanket with him. Some nights there is nothing but peace -- or as close to peace as a baby could achieve -- and some days assassins break in.
Danyal kills each one.
The mirage shifts again, and it shows more memories of Danyal interacting with Damian during his youth too young for him to remember. His first steps, his first words.
"Danya." The small toddler of Damian says, arms reaching for Danyal.
A frown curls across Danyal's face, and pulls Damian into his lap. "No, no, little brother." He scolds, voice firm but.. softer. "It is Danyal, Damian. Danyal."
"Danya!"
Damian's brother sighs, but there is that same-small tilt at the corner of his mouth. A glimmer in his eyes. A glimmer... that Damian is finding he recognizes.
(He always thought his brother got that look in his eyes when he was mocking him. Was he wrong?)
The mirage shifts again, and this time it shows only mother and Danyal, alone. Danyal is older, taller. Seven, if Damian had to guess. Mother has a stern look on her face, her hands tight on his shoulders. "Damian will be starting training soon, my son."
Ah, then close to eight then. Training starts, always, at three years old. He watches Danyal nod, his expression mimicking their mother's. His arms are folded, always folded, behind his back, always neat.
"You can no longer have the relationship with your brother as you did before." Mother says.
Danyal's expression... falters. It shifts, it fluctuates. He looks surprised, thrown off. Like he isn't quite sure he heard what mother just said. His brows furrow. "What... do you mean, mother?"
"I mean what I said, Danyal." Mother says, stern, "Ra's will be keeping a closer eye on Damian now that he is of age to begin his training. He will not like if he sees you both getting along."
"I am sorry, my child. But your relationship with Damian ends here. You are rivals now, not brothers." In a cruel form a gentleness, mother raises her hand and tucks a stray curl out of Danyal's face.
Of course. Damian never had a relationship with his brother because of Grandfather. Of course. No, he's not feeling a little bitter. No. There's not an inner child that still, like a candleflame, wishes that he'd had a bond with his only flesh and blood.
Danyal is dead now. So it's not like it matters. He's happy about this.
Danyal frowns, and he steps back. He looks lost in thought. "We are still brothers, mother," he says, argues, and looks up to meet mother's eyes. "Let me train him, I will make sure he gets the skill he needs. If we must be rivals, then I will teach him how to defeat me. If he can defeat me, he can defeat anybody."
Their mother, and Damian, both blink in unison. Then mother smiles something sharp, calculated. She folds her hands behind her back. "Then do it. But you will make him hate you."
"...So be it."
Damian.... Damian is silent. His world axis has been tilted on its head. He is sliding, and sliding, and sliding down. Spinning. Many things click into place at once.
More memories from the mirage show. It shows Danyal training Damian. It shows their arguing, their bickering. It shows Danyal going to their mother to praise Damian and his skills, how fast he is picking up on the sword. How one day he will surpass even him.
It shows Danyal sitting outside Damian's bedroom door every night, listening in for anyone who dares to break in. His knees drawn to his chest, his sword at his side. Sometimes he sneaks in, sword drawn, when he hears a sound.
Some nights, Damian wakes up. He remembers those nights. Danyal standing over his bed with his sword unsheathed and tight at his side. He remembers the instant terror as he immediately reached for his own weapon.
His brother always scolded him for his lack of vigilance. That had he been anyone else, Damian would have had his neck cut. He would've been dead already. It only made Damian's hatred of him grow.
But he understands now. Because there were assassins in the room that Damian, four years old, three, did not notice. Not until later. He always assumed the attacks on him after Danyal's death had been because now there was a new heir to target.
It had been the only lesson he'd been even somewhat grateful for.
Then finally the mirage shimmers, and it shows Danyal, ten years old, in one of the training rooms, mid-spar with Mother. It's fast, sharp, impressive and like a blur. Damian is unsure if at ten which one of them was the better swordsman. Some of the assassins who have never met Danyal said Damian was, but the ones who had said it was Danyal. He'll never know.
In a lull in the fight, when their swords are crossed, mother speaks. "Ra's wants you and Damian to fight." She says, teeth grit into a deep scowl. The cross breaks and Danyal jumps back, he frowns.
"We have fought, mother." He says, and dives in first, swinging for mother's feet. Mother dodges, and slices at his arm. He swerves out of the way, twisting on his feet like a dance. "We are always fighting, doesn't he see our spars?"
"Not a spar like that, my son." Mother says, a snarl in her voice. She lunges, and Danyal blocks her blade. "A fight to the death. Father has grown tired of having two heirs."
That gets Danyal's attention -- or, more accurately, it distracts it. His eyes widen, and his sword lowers for a single moment. A mistake. "What?" Is all he gets out before mother has him on his back, her blade pressed to his throat.
He freezes. As does Damian. Danyal's brows furrow, then unfurrow, only to knot up again. "Mother, what do you mean a fight to the death?" He flips to his feet when mother removes the sword. She walks over to grab her water.
"Must I repeat myself, Danyal?" Mother snaps, rubbing her forehead before swigging from her canteen. "Father wants to find out which one of you is the stronger heir, and so you will fight to the death after your training in a few days."
Danyal's tan face loses a shade of color, he looks ashy. "There must be some mistake!" He exclaims, his arms gesturing out as he peers around mother. "There is a five year disparity between us, Damian has only just started training two years ago. It would be an unfair fight!"
"Do you think me unaware?" Mother whirls on him, and there is a grief-stricken look on her face. Like she is already mourning Damian's death. Damian feels ill. "Your skill is far beyond what Damian can accomplish right now, and there is nothing that I say that can convince Father otherwise."
Danyal wears an expression like he is scrambling for answers. A white knuckle grip on his weapon. There is a long silence, and his lower lip curls up. His throat bobs, he swallows. "Is there really nothing we can do?"
Mother makes a frustrated sound, pushing her loose hairs out of her face. "Not unless Father changes his mind, or I send one of you away. But Father would surely send someone to look for you or Damian."
"What if one of us faked our death?"
Mother stills. As does Damian. No, he thinks, stiff as a rod, no way. These mirages were lying, nothing but figments of an imagination. Of some quiet what-if that Damian had not yet stomped out.
Mother's expression shifts, and then turns contemplative. Danyal notices, and keeps pushing, he looks as hopeful as he could get beyond his usual unwavering, stone-like expression. "One of us could go to father--"
"No." Mother cuts off, voice sharp. Danyal wilts, confusion flittering across his face. Damian, from the corner of his eye, sees Father tense as stone. His white-slit eyes have not left the mirage. Nobody's has.
"Father will undoubtedly check there first, it would not be a good idea. You or Damian will have to go somewhere where he would not think to look. Someone unaffiliated with the League."
Danyal's face falls, shutters, and then closes up again into stone. Mother begins to pace, and Danyal's blue eyes follow her. "So a stranger?" He asks, and there is disgust lilting into his voice.
Mother nods, and she looks just as offput as Danyal.
The mirage of Damian's brother rolls his shoulders back. "Then I will do it, mother." He says, voice unwavering. There is a stubborn note behind it all, one that Damian recognizes. "I will fake my death, and Damian will stay here."
Mother's eyes turn sharp on him, and she stops in her spot. She pivots. "Are you sure?" She asks, eyebrow raising, "There is a chance you will never meet your Father if you leave. Nor will you see I or Damian again, if you do this."
Something like fear flickers across Danyal's face, eyes widening momentarily -- as if that very thought had not crossed his mind. But then it smooths over to sharp determination. He nods. "It would be the same for Damian if it was him instead. I will do it, Mother."
Damian feels ill again. Father has a strong set in his jaw, his teeth grinding.
Mother stares at Danyal, and then her expression softens. And like before, it is grieving. "In a few days time, I and another member of the League will be going on a mission to the American States. I will tell Father that you will accompany me, once there we will dispose of the other member and then orchestrate your death."
The American States. Danyal was here, in the country. He was out there somewhere -- but no this was fake. It had to be. Danyal was dead. A fool who got himself killed on a mission with mother and left the title of Heir to Damian.
Or maybe it had been his plan all along. His and mother's both.
...Was mother ever going to tell him?
The mirage of Danyal nods, sharp. Understanding. There is a gleam in his eyes that is not pride, it is tears. And when Mother leaves the room and leaves him alone, the stone-like expression on his face crumbles and falls.
His brother, ten years old, curls up his lip in an ugly way. It wobbles as the tears in his eyes do, and he brings up his hand to slam it over his mouth. And sinks to his knees, a yell-like sob muffled behind the skin.
His brother, ten years old, looks smaller than Damian remembers him being, and cries.
Damian has never seen Danyal cry. Not once in the mirage of memories, nor in his own.
The memory holds for a minute, and then disappears. And no new one shows up. The magic is gone, and it leaves a silence in its wake. Heavy, staticky, and full of revelations.
So there are two things that Damian knows that his Father now knows too.
He has an older brother
His older brother is alive.
(And a new secret third thing: Damian wasn't sure how to feel about it.)
#dpxdc#dp x dc#dp x dc crossover#danny fenton is not the ghost king#dp x dc prompt#dpxdc prompt#i promise this is a prompt#it just got very long#danyal al ghul au#my take on a danyal al ghul au#older brother danny#dpdc#dpxdc crossover#i know the usual gist is that danyal al ghul is a better knife thrower than he is a swordsman but hey#consider: phantom has a sword when he fights ghosts. how sick is that?#his ghost form having allusions to the LoA. its not obvious but its there#did i make danny brown skinned? yeah. because him being white or not is irrelevant to me and i wanted to make him darker skinned#thinking about the angst of bruce seeing his firstborn son going “i could stay with father!” and then said child being visibly crushed#when told no. and that he may never see his father ever. actually. if he fakes his death. and still doing it anyways for damian's sake#danny loves his little brother he just shows it in an unorthodox way. some of it is not his fault#also danny being an absolute grump in amity park is very funny to me. he's an arrogant little assassin child in AP who is only here for#his little brother's sake and safety. he loves his brother but that doesnt stop him from being an arrogant little brat#gremlin assassin child danny is so funny#i know this is very ironic for me to post after posting my thoughts on danyal al ghul aus and their missed potential#but actually this prompt is what spurred that post into creation in the first place actually.#because i was thinking about this au and then went “oh hey you know whats funny--” and then i#thought about it too much to the point where i had to make a post talking about it#tried to find a balance between danny being mature for his age and also still being a kid#like yeah he’s a trained assassin and has killed but also he’s a 10yo boy about to be separated - Assumingly permanently- from his family
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HBEBEBEBEBEB UR WILLIAM DESIGN IS SO SILLYYYYY THAT SKRUNKLY OLD MAN IS GETTING THE CHAIR <3333
The worst man ever 💜
#ask reply#again I’m always glad when yall like my designs#WILLIAM is so fun to draw too#you guys have left a lot of nice comments and asks about his look!! which I appreciate!!#I always do try my best to make these characters semi accurate#but also visually distinct from one another#so im happy its working out#SO YEAH TY 💜💜💜#I gotta draw William more#promise I will in some serious comics#I do find him to be a very interesting character#it would be fun to explore all of that#let me cook let me cook 🔥🔥
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I'm a doctor, not a miracle worker.
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#poorly drawn mdzs#mdzs#wen ning#wei wuxian#wen qing#jiang cheng#Truly Massive disclaimer here: I am a Jiang Cheng enjoyer. I like his character. I enjoy that he is very flawed and volatile.#This episode of the audio drama has a lot of great breakdown scenes featuring JC - and they all deserve a feature.#But underlying this comic is a small meta comment of 'ah man I have too many comics of JC just wailing sadly'#My goal is to draw 6-8 comics per episode - I sometimes have to truncate and cut good scenes out.#Especially when a large majority is just different flavours of trauma and toxic relationships to your self-worth.#I would also like to make a note here that just because you lose the ability to do something that is very tied to your core identity-#-does not mean your life is over. It will feel like the end of the world. It will send you into a spiral of grief. It will hurt so badly.#Sometimes we do not realize how tied up our identities can be in certain things until we are cut loose.#You don't lose yourself. I promise the pain will fade in time. I promise you will find other things to tether you. I promise you will be ok#Life moves forwards. Time moves forwards. You move forwards.#Ego death just means an opportunity for ego rebirth. You are never committed to being the same person forever.#To wrap this around to JC: Yeah I love the twist with the core transfer but man I would have loved to see JC accept the loss.#Obviously it happens for a reason (story) but I can have my AUs. I can have these 'what-ifs'.#described in alt text#I'm trying it out! *please* give me feedback - I want to eventually Add image ID to all of these comics one day
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uhm uh. rdr jovier.
#rdr2#rdr#javier escuella#john marston#jovier#red dead redemption 2#when you have to kill your lover to save your wife and child.#and you cant look at his face bc you cant face what you had to do.#red dead redemption#red dead#can A/I_art die already i dont like how glaze makes my art look like jpeg images lmao#um anyway. jovier still on the brain. i promise i draw other rdr stuff besides them JFKEJNFN#i still have a bunch of stuff to post stay tuned<3#oh fuck i forgot the tws#tw blood#tw death#nobody:#my brain cell immediately attaching to the only mexican character in a piece of media:#my art
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Man, that E-sex was crazy
#suggestive#objectum#computers#shitpost#Clay Posts#no computers were harmed in the making of this post i promise. it was one of those wireless keyboards#needed the keys for an art project if anyone was wondering#minors dni w/ this one pls#what do i even tag this with#adding this tag to commemorate funnier-when-objectum reblogging this. it was objectum from the start#!!! godbless but rip my notifs </3
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For the first time in history, we are pleased to announce that the state of Kansas is formally recognizing Ace Week!!!
#Ace week#Ace week 2024#asexual awareness week#asexual awareness week 2024#kansas#laura kelly#asexual#asexuality#asexual community#asexual pride#ace pride#ace#aces#ace community#proclamation#LGBTQIA+#Queer#This is real we actually have these official documents sitting on our dining room table that the governor mailed to us after signing#When we got Aromantic Spectrum Awareness Week recognized earlier this year people on the internet didn't believe it was real#I'm an activist whose spoken at international conferences#been written about in 2 books#and my podcast has charted in 59 countries#I also just live in Kansas and Laura Kelly is my Governor whom I personally made this proclamation request to#I promise I have no graphic design skills and couldn't fake this if I wanted to#If it's not made out of human hair I probably didn't make it
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Olive Branch
Wrong Move
#bad touch... 2! anyway to save everyone from a novella in the tags i will be replying to this post afterward with some directors commentary#EDIT: go look in the replies for a link to my director's commentary with bonus thumbnails#this has been sat around for like 2-3 months unfinished for reasons i will expand upon there. lol#isat spoilers#isat#isat fanart#isat siffrin#isat loop#isat isabeau#isafrin#isiloop#sifloop#sloops#sloopis#in stars and time#in stars and time fanart#lucabyteart#emplore u to not look at the anatomy too hard here because i basically took the executive decision to IGNORE THAT SHIT to get this finished#so its absolutely scuffed as is the spacial reasoning of the whole thing. theyre just laid next to each other in a bed/on a bedroll#just bc i have no fucking clue how clear any of that is. like at all#also i do promise that most of the time when im bashing the dolls together in my head it is like 90% yay what if they healed and were happy#but like. im not drawing that. lol. everyone else can go do that. im here to articulate concepts rather than make nice emotions#so . priorities. anyway sorry isabeau being tied up in this unfinished larger comic meant i didnt draw u for ages elsewhere#theres enough isafrin out there i dont need to contribute
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i have a Scene - a Plot if you will - that backs this as context. y'all are gonna have to trust me on this one <3 or read the tags...
#the song is 'in your eyes' by peter gabriel#boombox serenade lets GO!!!#in my mind immediately after this the others came over to say hi (or in sallys case tell him off)#and at first howdy's like 'oh ofc wallys there that makes sense. sally too? strange but alright'#then eddie appears and ohhhh boy its Jealousy Central Babey and howdy's train just pulled into the station#scribble salad#laughingstock#welcome home#barnaby x howdy#howdy x barnaby#OK CONTEXT I PROMISED CONTEXT#so in my mind howdy is an oblivious dumbass when it comes to his own romantic feelings.#he's so in love with barnaby (its very obvious) but Doesnt Realize It. despite being a god tier flirty fruity motherfucker#so when barnaby - thinking theyre on the same page - confesses#howdy's all like 'ohhh um. gee barn im flattered truly but - i just dont like you like that'#yk breaking barnaby's heart right down the middle#so barnaby shuts himself in his home and wally is hovering. yk Worried#and eddie - who's been helping barnaby come to terms w/ his own feelings & gauge if howdy feels the same - asks sally to check in for him#& sally goes over and Immediately involves herself. she takes personal offense on barnaby's behalf#also she lives for the drama and wants every juice detail Hot Off The Press#so while howdy is having a lil crisis as he slowly realizes Oh My Fucking God I DO Love Barnaby Like That-#barnaby / sally / wally / (eventually) eddie are all having a sleepover where they just play card games and chat#a good ol bitch n' stitch night#and howdy shows up to try and talk to barns (obvs in my head he doesnt have a boombox he just Knocks)#only to get RE-RE-RE-REJECTEDDDDDD!!!! thats how it feels you wormy mf!#bc barnaby is a) having a girls night & b) needs to emotionally prepare for That conversation#aaaaand THATS the context <3
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i did not know manaphy was based off of a sea angel!!!!!!!!!
just a palette(s) i farded out for my pmd stuff :3
#you know shes cooking up a drawing when she make a palette lmao#sonion#theyre such funky liddle creatures#hes not transparent i promise#My Art#Pokemon#Manaphy#PMD#Pokemon Mystery Dungeon
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