#Lovely Lullabies

[lousolversons]

I've been calling to you for some time. And now here I am, and you can rest. I am the quiet you've been longing for. After all the garishness of life,the jostling, the clawing, the dull thrum of desperation in you. Will I get the fixes I need to be somebody? But, Daniel, you already know who you'll be. An ugly duplex back in Modesto. A job in an office with drab carpets and flickering lights. A woman in the mold of your mother, vacuuming on valium. A genteel drinking problem, like your father. Your wife counting down your thrusts. Your children shying away from you. All the confidence and hope of your youth replaced by a seething, boiling regret. Until one day, you're at a traffic light. The light turns green, horns honking. You don't move. Horns honking. You don't move. A comfortable chair in a room that slants to the north. An easeful death. Rest. It's okay. It's okay. It's okay. It'll feel like a bath. Rest. Like honey on your tongue. It is the comfort we all long for. The end. Rest. Come. Come. I'll hold you, you rest now. INTERVIEW WITH THE VAMPIRE AMC Episode 12 - Don't Be Afraid, Just Start The Tape

[demaparbat-hp]

Little Zuzu for an incoming project 🔥

[ayyy-imma-ninja]

decided to doodle stuffs from today's ep-

i also continue to be bullied maliciously /nsrs

[linderosse]

The Founder’s Call— Part 4

Sun channels a bit of her inner goddess. Meanwhile, Flora continues to walk that fine line between success and danger. :)

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Masterpost

A/N: I’ll be posting to Instagram as well! If you like my content, please consider supporting me there!

[waokevale]

Edo Lullaby🎼

I'd like to think Atsuko used to sing this to young Splinter to sleep or to calm him down. So once he had kids of his own he began singing this song from his memories as well.

Later on when he became more depressed and spent less and less time with his kids, Raph began to sing it instead (I'd feel like Raph would remember things that felt extremely important to him, hence why.)

And once Splinter began getting more involved with his children again, and especially after the events of the movie, they sang the song together to their family.

[egophiliac]

What was your favorite of the flashbacks in Silver’s walk?

the acorn bracelet is VERY good, but I really really love Malleus humming (hummalleus? hummus?) to Silver. especially now that the song has Context. >:) we are in a soup of angst and I'm here with a spoon in each hand and a silly straw that leads directly to my brain.

[earlycuntsets]

2003 Flyers

x

[saint-end]

"Lala, are you crying?" (D.Gray-Man chapter 13 redraw)

[grandlinedreams]

It's rare that Law falls asleep before you.

Even rarer still that he's even in bed before you ㅡ because when you trudge into his room (which is yours too now, you suppose), you fully expect him to be awake and at his desk, working on something.

The room is in the usual disarray, stacks of books everywhere ㅡ but still comfortable in the dim luminescence of the porthole. And Law is not at his desk ㅡ he's already in bed, jeans and cap shucked to the spare chair you often curl up in, Kikoku propped up against it.

You stare at the sight before you, wondering if you should be concerned ㅡ after all, it isn't every day that you don't have to wrestle your boyfriend into going to bed. You glance at the clock on his desk, then wince.

For once, you're the one who's lost track of time.

You sigh softly, scrubbing at your eyes before you move towards the bed to join him. Law doesn't stir at the dip of the bed or tug of the blankets, breathing still an even cadence as you settle beside him.

Law's face is made softer in sleep, no furrow to his brow or irritated pull of his mouth, and you reach to thumb at the shadows underneath his eyes. They're not as dark as you've seen them, but their presence still makes your heart ache. You know that he has a lot on his plate as a captain, but you also know he struggles to share the workload.

Your touch drifts over the bridge of his nose to his cheek, then to his jaw, stroking gently. In sleep, he offers a soft sigh and the subtle shift to your touch, subconscious movement sending butterflies through your stomach.

You love him. You know that you do, as certain of it as you've ever been of anything ㅡ you love him with every fibre of your being. And you know that he loves you, too. How else would you be privy to this, the softer, unguarded sides of him? It's an honor to be trusted this much, especially when you know how much effort it's taken to get to this point.

Law shifts in his sleep again, reaching ㅡ and you squirm closer carefully, feel the drift of his arm over your waist, the tuck of your head beneath his chin. Comfortable, easy ㅡ and oh so very welcome in this wee hour of the morning.

You snuggle as close as you can, pressing your lips to his shoulder in a soft kiss before you close your eyes, content to let yourself follow him into sleep.

[tategaminu]

Isn't it so loaded that we got Rayla saving three different characters from "corruption" this season? Esmeray with a lullaby about love‚ with Runaan telling him that she loves and needs him and Callum with being his guiding star because they love each other so much.

Which makes you think... Rayla saving Callum in s7 may be a combination of all three.

Because this time she will not choose love by leaving out of duty (killing him)‚ she will choose love by staying (saving him).

[cloneenthusiast]

"Dream well my little one - of stars singing - their gentle night song~"

[librababe99]

Vigilante's Lullaby |Part One|

cw: Red Hood, Gender Neutral Reader, Angst, Mentions of violence, blood, injury, medical procedure, hurt no comfort, dark romance, hurt no comfort word count: 1.9K summary: In the shadows of Gotham’s underworld, you run a clinic that caters to those no one else dares to help. One night, Red Hood stumbles in, bloodied and defiant, refusing assistance despite his wounds. As you force him to stay, a strange, electrifying tension fills the air.

A/N: Hello! Just finished up the final edits to the first part of this new series. For the sake of dramatics I really liked the idea of leaving Jason's identity anonymous and sticking with his alias. Also as of now I'm wanting this to be a four part series but of course that can change! If you'd like to be tagged in the next part just let know <3 As always comments and feedback are greatly appreciated - Libra * .♡ *:･ﾟ✧ ⋆ ࣪.* ࣪.⋆

(DC Masterlist) (Marvel Masterlist)

(Synopsis) (Part Two)

The clinic was a small, dimly lit space tucked away in the decaying heart of Gotham’s underbelly. The walls were cracked and worn, the faded paint peeling in corners no one bothered to care about anymore. Shadows lingered in every corner, as thick as the stench of sweat and antiseptic that clung to the air. It was late—well past the time most sane people would be out in Gotham. But sanity was a luxury in a city like this, and you’d long since learned to live without it.

You leaned over the trembling form of a thug, stitching up the gash in his side with quick, practiced movements. He wasn’t important—just some small-time crook who got into a fight he couldn’t win. It wasn’t your job to ask questions. You weren’t paid for that. People came to you because you never asked why, and you never judged. Criminal, vigilante, or something in between, it didn’t matter. In Gotham, everyone bled the same.

The thug winced, muttering a half-hearted complaint, and you hushed him quietly, focusing on the task at hand. It was routine—just another night in a city that never slept, where violence was a constant companion.

Then the door slammed open, hard enough to rattle the rusting hinges.

You looked up, instincts on edge, fingers stilling mid-stitch. A figure loomed in the doorway, casting a long shadow across the floor. The helmet gave him away immediately—Red Hood. His presence dominated the room, his chest heaving, blood dripping onto the worn floorboards.

"Out," his voice growled, distorted through the modulator in his helmet. It wasn’t directed at you.

The thug on the table scrambled up, clutching his side. He didn’t wait for a second warning. As soon as Red Hood stepped into the room, the thug fled into the night, disappearing into Gotham’s shadows.

The vigilante staggered forward, his movements heavy, labored. Blood soaked through his jacket, staining the dark fabric and leaving a trail of crimson in his wake. His breathing was harsh, his body barely holding itself together, but when you moved toward him, his gloved hand shot up.

“I don’t need your help,” he growled, even though his knees almost buckled from the effort of staying upright.

You stopped short, eyeing him carefully. His wounds were bad. Too bad. He wouldn’t last long in this state, not even in Gotham. But you’d seen his type before. The kind who thought they could muscle through the pain, through death itself, out of sheer willpower. Maybe he had cheated death once, but not tonight. Not like this.

“You’ll die if I don’t patch you up,” you said, voice calm but firm. You weren’t afraid of him. That was important. Red Hood’s entire persona thrived on fear. “Sit down. Now.”

His helmet turned slightly, as if sizing you up. There was tension in the way he held himself, every muscle coiled tight, ready for violence even though his body was betraying him. His fingers twitched like they were ready to reach for his gun. But you stood your ground.

“I’m not going to ask twice,” you added, eyes narrowing. “You won’t make it out of this room if you don’t let me help.”

For a long, painful moment, he didn’t move. The silence stretched, thick with tension. Then, with a sharp intake of breath, he let his hand drop to his side. A begrudging acceptance. He stepped forward and sank into the chair, the weight of his injuries catching up to him.

You didn’t hesitate. Moving quickly, you grabbed your supplies and knelt beside him, carefully peeling back his jacket to expose the wound. The gash across his side was deep, and there were other cuts and bruises littering his body, evidence of a fight he barely survived.

As you worked, the room fell into a tense quiet, broken only by the sound of his labored breathing. You could feel the heat radiating off him, the mix of blood and sweat clinging to his skin. Your fingers brushed against his flesh, the contact sending an unexpected jolt through you. The air between you seemed to grow heavier with each passing moment, thick with something unspoken.

He watched you from behind the mask, his eyes hidden but his presence palpable. You didn’t flinch, didn’t show any reaction to the violence he wore so plainly on his skin. You’d seen worse, and you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of thinking he unsettled you. Still, there was something in the way he sat so still now, the way his body surrendered to your touch, that made the space between you feel... electric.

“You don’t ask questions,” Red Hood said after a while, his voice low, almost conversational now. There was a hint of something behind his words, like he was testing you. “Everyone else does.”

“I’m not everyone else,” you replied simply, not looking up from his wounds as you stitched them closed with quick precision.

He made a noise, somewhere between a grunt and a laugh, though there was no humor in it. “No. I guess you’re not.”

Your hands lingered for a moment longer than necessary as you finished up, the tips of your fingers brushing against the edge of his skin. His body tensed slightly, and you could feel the air shift between you. There was a moment—brief, almost imperceptible—where Red Hood’s guard dropped. His gaze softened behind the mask, as if for just a second, he was letting you see past the armor. Past the walls he had built so high.

But then, just as quickly, it was gone.

Red Hood stood abruptly, wincing as he moved, pulling his jacket back into place. He didn’t say thank you—he wasn’t the type. He didn’t have to. The way his eyes lingered on you, just for a heartbeat longer than they should have, told you everything.

“Don’t expect me to come back,” he muttered as he made his way to the door.

You didn’t respond. You didn’t have to.

He disappeared into the night, and you stood in the quiet aftermath, staring at the blood he left behind on the floor. Something about that encounter stuck with you. It was more than just another wounded vigilante passing through your clinic. It felt like the start of something darker. Something deeper.

A week passed, and you tried not to think about him.

But Gotham had a way of bringing people back into your life whether you wanted them or not. The nights were long, the clinic busy as always, but a part of you found yourself glancing at the door more than you cared to admit. You told yourself it was just a matter of curiosity—nothing more.

Until he returned.

This time, Red Hood didn’t burst in with the same dramatic entrance. He slipped through the door quietly, his presence immediately recognizable despite the effort he seemed to make to go unnoticed. He was wounded again, though not as badly as before. His jacket was torn, blood staining his side, but his steps were more measured, less desperate.

You raised an eyebrow as he stepped into the light, crossing your arms over your chest. “I thought you weren’t coming back.”

His lips twisted into something like a smirk, though there was no humor behind it. “Didn’t have a choice.”

Without waiting for your response, he sat down in the chair again, wincing as he moved. You took a deep breath, grabbing your supplies once more. This time, there was less urgency, but the tension between you had only grown in his absence. As you worked, the silence stretched again, but it wasn’t the same. The weight of unspoken words hung in the air.

“You live like this every night?” you asked after a while, breaking the quiet. “Bleeding all over the city?”

He chuckled, though it was dark and hollow. “It’s Gotham. Bleeding’s part of the job description.”

You glanced up at him, instinctively drawn to where his eyes should be beneath the mask, though you still couldn’t see them. The white lenses covering his eyes remained in place, a barrier between the two of you, preventing you from truly seeing the man beneath. But you could feel his gaze on you, sharp and unwavering, as if he were studying you just as closely.

There was always something about that mask—how it made him unreadable, cold, distant. Yet, in moments like this, when the tension in the room grew thick, you could feel the weight of emotions hidden behind it. The silence stretched on for a beat too long, the sound of your steady breathing filling the space as you tried to ignore the electric pull between you.

“And what job is that, exactly?” you asked, your tone carefully measured. You couldn’t let your curiosity get the better of you, but the question slipped out before you could stop it.

He hesitated for a brief moment, his head tilting slightly as if considering his answer, though the visor obscured any hint of where his gaze fell. "Righting wrongs. Settling scores," he finally said, his voice low and cold. "Call it whatever you want."

The cold finality in his voice sent a shiver down your spine. He wasn’t just talking about Gotham’s criminals. No, there was something more personal in his words. He was talking about himself—his own demons, his own darkness.You didn’t push further. It wasn’t your place, and you knew better than to pry into the shadows he carried. But it didn’t stop you from feeling the weight of it, the sheer force of the rage and pain he carried with him.

“I’ve seen plenty of people come through here with wounds like yours,” you said softly, focusing back on the gash you were stitching up, your hands steady despite the tension in the air. “They usually don’t last long. This city eats people alive.”

His head tilted slightly, and though you couldn’t see his eyes, you felt the intensity of his attention shift back to you. For a moment, the air felt heavier, thicker. His voice, when he finally spoke again, was low, rough. “I’m not most people.”

You couldn’t help the small, bitter smile that tugged at your lips. “No. I guess you’re not.”

The silence that followed wasn’t uncomfortable. In fact, it felt charged, like standing on the edge of something dangerous. There was always something about him that made you feel that way, as though you were staring into an abyss and contemplating whether to jump. Maybe you were a danger to each other, a collision waiting to happen.

When you finished patching him up, your fingers lingered, the soft brush of your skin against his as you pulled the gauze into place. This time, he didn’t flinch, didn’t pull away. Instead, he remained still, the air between you crackling with something unspoken.You glanced up at him again, meeting the featureless gaze of his mask, your breath catching in your throat. You couldn’t see his eyes, but you could feel them on you, feel the tension simmering beneath the surface.

Something was happening between you two—something inevitable, dangerous, and completely out of your control.

Without a word, he stood, pulling his jacket back over his bandaged torso. The movement was sudden, almost abrupt, as if he needed to break the moment before it went any further. He didn’t say goodbye. Didn’t offer any words of gratitude or reassurance.

But you knew he’d be back.

Even as he left, the heavy door of your clinic closing behind him, the presence of him lingered in the room—dark, dangerous, and unmistakably powerful. The pull between you both was undeniable, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that whatever was happening between you was far from over.

And it was only a matter of time before that tension snapped.

[polaris-stuff]

SolarMoon child! :D

She's here! The little oopsie is now a big oopsie!! I love her sm omg

Also requested by @melodi-jackson and a lot of anons!!

[starmocha]

Xavier: 💤

Rafayel: 🎨 🖌

Zayne: 🌙

Sylus: 🎶🎶🎶

[frosteaart]

"you're okay, you're alright. I'll never, ever leave your side."

Commission for @intotheelliwoods

[xxlady-lunaxx]

SANEGIYUUU AAANND <3 kisses!!

Giyuu likes kissing Sanemi's scars probably

Every single one—on his face, pressing his lips to the scars on his forehead, a kiss to his nose to wake up him up<3; on his chest in the opening of his uniform, laying on Sanemi's lap and trailing his finger along the scars before leaning up and pressing ilttle kisses all over his chest; holding Sanemi's hand and sometimes just lifting it up to his lips, slowly making his way up his arm

Giyuu does this every chance he gets but it never fails to make Sanemi all flustered, looking away and trying to hide the pink that spreads along his cheeks

Sanemi prefers Giyuu's lips though—constantly pulling him in for make out sessions, fuck the location!! anywhere's a good place

But for the smaller touches, he likes kissing on either side of Giyuu's lips (just the edges) in hopes that they'll lift into a smile<3

He also likes kissing Giyuu where his blush is darkest, making it impossibly redder (he loves it though, making him a cute little mess<3)

^ his cheekbones, tip of his nose

When it's cold, Giyuu brings Sanemi's hand up, kissing between his fingers aughh

Let's not forget forehead kisses!! As mentioned before, Giyuu does this a lot as good morning's, cradling him in his arms<3 But typically, Sanemi wakes up first, waking Giyuu with lazy kisses all over his face, brushing aside his hair away

Okay now for their preference on themself

I think Giyuu doesn't really mind, but he loves the slower kisses, ones for the quiet and tranquility, ones he can fall asleep too

Sanemi's the opposite haha- He's all kiss attack!! [constantly pulling him in for make out sessions] It makes him all fluttery inside and he can never get enough

(but then, the more affectionate than lust-filled kisses make him putty in Giyuu's hands and he's too embarrassed to admit that he loves them soso much<3 he gets too flustered and wants to hide when he gets those, the little baby)

Both of them prefer to kiss in private, i think? Sanemi kisses Giyuu in public purely to make sure others know that Giyuu's his and only his but private kisses feel so much more intimate and they have the freedom to worry only about each other during time by themselves, so yes. private kisses>>

Can't forget the neck kisses though

Sanemi sometimes offers to put up Giyuu's hair, only to get sidetracked with kissing the nape of his neck, still holding up Giyuu's hair

Giyuu's a bit more shy with giving them though, but when he does kiss him there, it's usually when they're hugging or snuggling

If they're cuddling, he's going to kiss Sanemi's collarbone, wrapping his legs around Sanemi's waist and trailing little pecks from his neck to his chest (aaand we're back to the scars)

Or he's hugging Sanemi from behind, pressing his lips to his neck in a still kiss, eyes closed and humming quietly to himself

Sanemi also likes kissing while talking—like doing both simultaneously

He'll whisper sweet nothings into Giyuu's ear whilst kissing him

Kissing his cheek then moving towards the side of his head to tell him how much he loves him in a low voice that makes Giyuu's heart patter faster than rain <3

God I love them so much