#headcanon

[bornbreathless]

But who will stroke Char's hair while she lays her head in their lap? Who will let her sit at their feet and nap against their legs while they work? Who will lay on top of her like a living weighted blanket?

[letraspal]

Happy Birthday Baz Pitch! Never forget you were brought to this world with love.

(Also, happy birthday to the one and only @rainbowrowell)

[superbat-love]

Green Lantern: So Spooky, truth or dare..?

Batman: I refuse to play your childish games, Lantern.

Green Lantern: Spoilsport. Fine, I’ll ask someone who actually knows how to have fun. Supes, truth or dare?

Superman: Truth.

Green Lantern: Tell us about your first male crush.

Superman: Wha-? I-I don’t…

Green Lantern: You have to tell the truth, Boy Scout~

Superman: [sighs in defeat] I was a kid.

Green Lantern: Ooooh, was he a celebrity?

Superman: One day, a family from out of town drove by my house, and their big fancy car suddenly broke down. They were stuck there for a while. I saw this boy around my age sitting in the back. He looked pretty lonely, so I invited him to play baseball.

Green Lantern: Did you fall in love with his athleticism?

Superman: Err…he kinda sucked at baseball. So I tried to teach him.

Green Lantern: So he was wowed by your athleticism.

Superman: Not really, he threw me over his shoulder.

Green Lantern: [bursts out laughing] That’s hilarious! Sounds like something you’d do, Spooky!

Batman: …

Superman: We sparred for the entire afternoon and his family stayed for dinner. It was fun. Sadly we never met each other again after that.

Green Lantern: Should have known you’d go for the fiery ones. What do you think he’d say to you if you meet him again? Can you imagine the Superman having a crush on you?

Batman: He’d say you’re an idiot.

Green Lantern: Hey! Nobody asked you, Spooky. Well, what would you say to him if you meet him again, Supes?

Superman: I just hope that he’s happy now, wherever he might be in life.

[valfeathers]

BENS!! i forgot how fun drawing/designing pastas can be,,, i’m re obsessing

ramble down here btws,, //death mentions since he is a ghost

ok so ben is an old fave and i have thoughts. this first new hc design isn’t that remarkable except for the fact that instead of trying to make ben look like a dark/‘corrupted’ link, i tried to draw him like a kid in a hand-stitched link costume.

i will be drawing/writing(?) ben as a kid btw, specifically a ghostly 12 year old kid whose hobbies include trying to stress his cohabitants into early retirement.

the ben fullbody on the left is a slightly more corporeal form that he uses when out in the open and interacting with people in person. while still ghostly (like. swipe at him and your hand will go straight through him kinda ghostly) it’s more solid and has more of his features that he possessed before his death. he floats!! that’s his main mode of transportation in the open. he floats.

the one on the right is one that you’d see onscreen! he’s quite literally ‘rendered’ differently giving his victims that patented dread associated with ben. uncanny valley yk

when scared or upset his pupils vanish leaving you with those empty dark scleras. this doesn’t happen often though!

anyways that’s all for now!! an anon asked me to draw hoodie so i’m off to go do that :)

[hyakunana]

Meanwhile, at Venigni Works (a direct sequel from this comic)

[turtleblogatlast]

I honestly love the clothing styles of each of the turtles in this show and I love how these styles really incorporate their personalities as well.

Like, obviously Donnie has the best sense of style, yeah? Think that’s something pretty agreed upon here. Everything we see him put together is very meticulously crafted and clean. That goes with his personality because Donnie is a very meticulous person in general, and he knows what he likes very, very well, and knows how to flaunt it in turn. Him commenting on colors he enjoys or disapproving of outfits that the others see no problem with also shows how he just generally has an eye for this kind of thing. He doesn’t just know what looks good on himself, but also what looks good on others - and I think this ties into his love of gift giving too. Donnie also has a flair for making sure that his things have his “mark” on them, and his clothing is no exception. All that he wears and how he wears them screams “Donnie.”

Mikey is really fun because his styles are honestly a pendulum between super simplistic and incredibly out there. And often, you’re going to see a lot of color or patterns to both. And in my opinion I think that all reflects really well on Mikey’s character - he’s got a colorful personality but even more than that he’s incredible sure of who he himself is. Mikey’s style, I feel, is less what looks good as clothes and more what sparks joy in Mikey himself. His bright stickers he wears are a testament of that! He’s comfortable in his own skin and his style reflects this perfectly, whether he goes for a more out-there look or a more toned down one.

Now, for Leo. Okay, I think I’m actually in the minority here I feel because Leo’s style isn’t really that bad? Hear me out- if you actually look at what he wears, try taking out, like, one accessory. Suddenly, that outfit works! He even manages to put together many good outfits in the series, but his “bad” ones are the ones that tend to stand out, alas (just like how his mistakes tend to be big ones oop-) Basically, my personal look at him is not that he’s inept at styling at all, but that he has a “too much” gene. And like everyone else, this sense of style is completely like him, too. Going too far to impress when all he needed to do was slow it down some to think things through. (And funnily enough, a lot of his outfits take random aspects from his brothers too - “nothing without them” huh?)

For Raph, I feel bad for him since pretty much all of his clothes are inevitably going to be ripped, but he makes them work pretty much each time. Like Leo, Raph tends to go more sporty with his looks, but I also noticed that his stuff often goes in that in between of comfy, cool, and cute. His pajama suit in particular comes to mind in terms of “cute” as it’s more something you’d see younger children in rather than older kids, and I think it can be a subtle nod to the fact that for all Raph tries to seem older, he’s still just a kid too.

I could probably go on, but these are just all off the top of my head - I love how the boys’ personality’s come out in so many different ways.

[karnaca78]

Paris Green (ab initio)

[shearlin]

Hot take about Sky angst, regarding the curse of Demise, because I haven't seen anyone talking about this possibility in all those years I've been in LU fandom.

Guys...

Sky has no idea about the curse

Because think about it. Why would he know about it?

My man has been electrocuted multiple times, with magical - basically divine - lightnings in attempt to defeat Demise. All the while fighting for his life with a literal GOD OF EVIL, after spending an entire afternoon fighting an army of monsters and a Demon Lord/creepy ass Sword Spirit. Not even mentioning how worried sick he must have been that entire time, if this time he was also too late too save Zelda.

(always too late too slow not enough and late late late)

I don't know about you, but I don't think he was in any state of body or mind to listen to some dudes last words, when he had to focus on not passing out because he has to make sure Zelda/Sun is alright.

(It got a bit long so rest of the rant under the cut)

Fi gave him clear, that Demise received a mortal blow and that now it's only a matter of time until he dies and that was all Sky needed to stop paying any attention.

Just go through the motions. His vision is blurry, but that's alright just stay awake. Fi chimes to rise his sword. He does. There is some black smoke suddenly surrounding him, but Fi get's rid of it with her light so it's fine. It's probably why she asked him to rise her skyward. The last fifteen minutes he's been following her directions nearly blindly anyway, because his mind is still foggy, he's not sure where he is or what he is doing he just have to get to Zelda.

And then she's there. And everything is fine.

Impa fades, Fi sleeps and he finally rests. Or rather crashes as the exhaustion finally catches up to him.

But he recovers, as best as he can, and live on.

And then eight other heroes, just like him, appear and take him on a quest across the time. They become friends. Then brothers. Soon he feels like they knew each other their entire lives and can't imagine how he can move on after the inevitable goodbyes.

He is so happy that no matter what, there will always be someone among his people, someone from or even outside of Hyrule, to stand up against evil, no matter how many times it will try to show it's ugly face. He's a bit bummed that there even is a need for a hero to show up, but hey! He is not so naive to think people are and always will be only good. Things happen. Some people are just terrible, and some take it out on the entire world.

But somewhere along the line, he starts to notice... something weird.

They all fought that same guy (some of them even multiple times!) called Ganon or Ganondorf. And while he is overjoyed that none of them even heard the name of Demise, he feels kind of singled out. Few of them mentioned an idea of reincarnation. Mentioning Zeldas' connection through blood of the Goddess and their connection through a spirit.

A spirit of a hero.

He always though it was a figure of speech. A way to describe someone courageous who fulfills the quota of being a hero.

But it's not about a spirit of a hero.

No.

It's the Spirit of the Hero.

His Spirit.

An idea begins to form. A distant memory he didn't even knew he had. Maybe nightmares about that fateful fight starting to get clearer by night. Maybe he spends some time talking to Fi and he does not like the feeling he gets from her chimes, even if she can't really talk in her slumber. Maybe he even prays to Hylia in some distant era in an unfamiliar place, so she can deny or confirm his suspicions.

Goddesses, please, may he be wrong.

Because he loves them all like a family. Because they are family. Because he has seen their haunted expressions and blank eyes, he has heard their stories and horrors they went through and nearly all of them were so young, too young, and the thought that he was the direct cause of it-

Sky had no idea that Demise trapped his spirit in a cycle of reincarnation. He had no time to process it or find coping mechanisms before the adventure with the chain happened. He found out during it, slowly putting it together and coming apart at the seems before their eyes.

Sky didn't know about the curse.

And I say, it could be really interesting to watch Sky fall.

(And if anyone knows a fic exploring this idea please let me know! I searched but couldn't find any)

[roe-and-memory]

this is essentially lightnings rusteze commercial in cars 1

[kurithedweeb]

I know we always talk about Garroth ending up looking exactly like his father, but what about Dante growing up to look eerily like Gene.

When he joins up with Phoenix Drop, he's still young. He's a little on the short side, still a bit too thin from life in the wild and imprisonment, and he's a little anxious and shaky around so many people after having grown unused to living in a village. The smiling faces of the citizens remind you of your old home, of clamoring crowds and standing frozen in the plaza as your brother . . .

Anyway, it's good here. It's easy to fit in. The guards joke around with you and make sure you're healthy. They don't know a thing about dual wielding, but you get plenty of sparring partners out of helping the local baker practice her magick, and you maybe make a friend too. You're not too sure how you feel about the Lord, but she's a kind soul and does her best to make sure you're comfortable here in town, and her kids are great. Babysitting the boys is easily your favorite duty. Yeah, it's good here. For the first time in a long while, you feel like you're doing good.

Then the war comes. The children and non-combatants are sent away. The jovial atmosphere of the guard tower has soured into solemn silence as you make your final preparations. In the morning, you step into the battlefield and you go to war for the first time in your life. You have a horrible feeling in your gut that it won’t be the last.

You, Sir Laurance and Sir Garroth make a good team. It makes you sick. The three of you cross the battlefield at a slow and inevitable pace, cutting down any soldier that dares stray too close, and together you cleave the enemy forces in half, scattering them. The killing comes easy to you. You had hoped that in this peaceful new village, with time, you would become unfamiliar to how easily you were once able to take a life, but right then you’re glad your body never forgot the motions of death. Glad for the blood that stains your hands—how can you be glad?

You can’t remember how long you fought for. Days, weeks? Surely not months, or so you think. Yours is a small force, and though Miss Lucinda is a good healer, she grows tired while the other army’s numbers are replenished time and again. You remember the bags under her eyes as she tipped a potion sip by sip into your mouth the time you were shot through the face.

You remember sneaking into the enemy camp in the dead of night, skirting around the edges of it to the back line where the archers rested. You quietly slit five of their throats before you were noticed, and managed to slash another across the belly before the arrow caught you in the side of the face, in one cheek and out the other. The wood of the shaft cracked when you bit down. It was everything you could do not to scream as you fled. Dale thought you were a fiend when you first stepped out of the shadows, face obscured in blood and cradling your jaw as you cupped a hand beneath your mouth in an effort to catch more blood before it left a trail. Laurance held you while Garroth split the arrowhead from the rest of it with a knife and pulled the shaft out the other side of your face, your jaw gripped tight in one hand to keep you from struggling. It took hours to pull the splinters from your cheeks and tongue before they sent you to wake the healer. The whole ordeal had been excruciating. You might have cried. You remember that a lot more clearly than most other times at war. After a while, it’s hard to tell which side spills more blood when so much is shed that red squishes out of the earth wherever you step.

Every day, you fought dawn to dusk. And then one day you won. By Nicole literally knocking some sense into her father, of all things! You find a quiet corner to throw up in and for a beautiful moment, you think life in this little town you’ve started thinking of as home will go back to being good. Until your Lord tells you to guard the village as she races past the gates, and she doesn’t come back. None who followed her do either.

For days, you stand waiting at the gates. You don’t eat, you don’t sleep. O’khasis is gone, Scaleswind has made a refuge of the plaza, and still there is no sign of your Lord or your brothers-in-arms. You won’t even leave to have your wounds seen to. Nicole has to drag a doctor to the gates to treat you, and the entire time you watch the forest hoping that any moment they will reappear. You only step away when someone brings you news that the ship that took the children away has returned. You should be the one to tell them.

Zoey knows something is wrong the moment she sees you. Levin and Malachi smile and ask where their mother is—they call you ‘uncle’ while they do. You get down on your knees before them, and you gather them close in your arms, and you cry as you tell them their mother has been missing since the day the war ended. You’re still holding them when the exhaustion catches up with you.

Zoey is with you when you wake. She tells you you’ve been out nearly two days. She fusses over you, and you know you’ve worried her because that’s what she does when she’s worried. You’re a mess anyway, so you let her fuss. You drink the broth she makes you, you change into the clothes she provides, you sit still while she cuts the unruly mats of your hair and shaves your face. You used to cut yourself shaving all the time, no one ever taught you how and you were only six or so when Gene was learning to; you don’t remember now how he showed you each step or the laugh in his voice at the face of disgust you made when you slapped a little hand into the lather on his face and left behind a tiny palmprint. Zoey doesn’t cut you once. When she’s done with you, she takes you by the arm and guides you back into civilization, where everyone who remained has decided already on search parties to go out looking for your missing friends.

You head each expedition. Dale brings himself out of retirement to watch over the town while you’re gone, and asks only that you also look for his son. Does he know you used to be a tracker, used to spend days in the woods trailing coyotes and runaways for enough coin to carry you through the cold months? You try for him, but the ground is soft still and every step anyone takes leaves a print, all overlapping and muddled. You keep an eye out as you circle the same stretches of woods for days, but you find nothing. Your group goes further and faster than any other, the first to find and dismantle bandit camps and dens of fiends, but no matter how far you go you find not a sign of anyone who has disappeared that day. It’s as though they vanished into thin air. Every time you return home, Dale looks at you with hopeful eyes, and every time you must take him aside and break his heart a little more. Eventually, he stops asking.

For a year, you search. The area has never been safer. You have never felt so alone as when people start to suggest that a funeral may be in order.

You feel like a monster for the rage in your voice when you denounce these people. You know they aren’t dead—you would have felt such a thing, you know, you would have felt pieces of yourself snapping like wire pulled too taut, you would have felt the sharp edges tangling inside you—it would have felt like it did when the brother you killed rose from the grave to slit your throat and cut your very existence from the memory of Boboros. You hear white noise rumbling in your ears when the first brave soul says Sir Dante, there’s been no sign for a year now, and your blood is boiling when you slap their comforting hand off your shoulder. You spit that you’re not giving up just because everyone else has taken no evidence of life to mean the surety of death, and with their pitying looks burning into your back to return to the woods. You scream into the trees until you can’t anymore. When it doesn’t help, you use your considerable tracking skills to hunt something, anything, until you feel human again.

You crawl back home the day before the funeral with your cape stained with blood; they held it back so you could attend. You polish your armor and swords until they shine, and the warped reflection of your own face makes you feel sick the way waging war did. You stand at attention the entire ceremony without moving a muscle. When Dale reads the names of the deceased at the end, offering their souls into the embrace of the Matron, you salute, and the clatter of your armor silences the crowd.

Everyone who fought in the war salutes with you. So do your Lord’s sons. You’re too tired to cry. You hold your salute long after everyone else has left.

The remaining forces of Scaleswind return home. One by one, family by family, the streets of your home empty. Without your Lord, without your guard, the citizens trickle out the front gates and never turn back. Some apologize to you as they say their goodbyes, and some of them you actually believe. You close the gate behind each of them until all that remains is you, Zoey, and your Lord’s sons. Then Zoey tells you she’s taking the boys to the Yggdrasil Forest. She holds you tight for too long and kisses your brow when you show them to the gate for the last time.

You can’t believe you ever thought you knew what loneliness was before this.

For five years, you are completely and utterly alone. You search and you patrol and you do your best to maintain the village. You don’t believe in Irene, but every day before dawn you stand before her statue and look down down down over the cliff’s edge and pray that this won’t be the rest of your life. That you haven’t deluded yourself into believing a fantasy, that you haven’t made such an incredible fool of yourself that people can’t bear to be around you, that you haven’t been forgotten. For five years, you pray that someone, somewhere, remembers that you exist. You look down down down over the cliff’s edge and have the terrible thought that you don’t know what you’d do if you were forgotten again.

The gate is falling apart. You don’t know how to repair the damage the weather’s done to it, you tried to patch the cracks but it never holds. With each year, you’ve been pushed further and further outtowards the coast. The only places you have the energy to maintain anymore are the guard tower and your Lord’s home. You blockaded the gates when the mechanism broke, you check it on occasion to be sure no bandits get in, and one day you hear voices from the other side. Familiar voices. You scramble up the wall and look over the other side at a boy you don’t recognize looking back up at you. He says, Is that Uncle Dante? and you climb down as fast as you can to embrace Malachi.

He’s nearly the age you were when you first met his mother. He’s grown tall, and strong enough to carry his brother on his back. Levin is fevered when you first see him, flush and hurting even as he dozes, and Malachi tells you he can’t walk from how bad he hurts. You remember how Zoey fretted over him when he was young, how sometimes he’d scream for seemingly no reason, and once you show them to their mother’s home Malachi refuses to leave his bedside.

You sit with them and ask where Zoey is. Malachi tells you of her obsession, and the relief that you are not alone in the belief that those who disappeared are alive feels like a hint of betrayal. You’re relieved that she’s driving herself into a downward spiral because of what? Because it makes you feel like you were reasonable to fight not to let their souls be put to rest?

You wait for her at the gates deep into the night and take her to her boys when she bursts from the woods, frantic that she’d lost them, and safe if your Lord’s home she holds you so tight your ribs hurt from the force of her grip. After so long, you’re not alone anymore.

You wake before dawn and strap your swords to your back. For the first time in a long time, you feel safe enough to go without your armor. You hike up the steep cliff to the Irene statue. You kneel before her to offer your thanks. You look into the pool at her feet and fear grips you by the throat.

Your brother’s face looks back at you.

You wear your swords the way he did. Your hair falls like his, dark in the shadow of Irene. Your face is gaunt and pale from old habits, eating only enough to sustain yourself so rations will stretch long enough for you to find more—do you remember how they starved Gene before they killed him? How they weakened him so he wouldn’t have the energy to fight? How pale and gaunt he was, dirt streaking over the side of his face, blood and grime drying in his hair, shaking and sweaty with how hard he fought back? Do you remember the scar that twisted around his throat when he returned from the dead to get his vengeance? Your collar is open over the scar he left twisting across your own, and it matches his own so very well. In the shadows of your eyes, you see his own staring back.

You think of the war. You think of how easy the killing was. You think of how easily Gene cut through the guards, the Lord, the memories of Boboros. The rage in his voice when he denounced you as his brother, the twist of his smile when he told you he would leave you to rot, Dante. No one will ever remember you. You can see that twist in the corners of your own smile, pushed into shape by the deep scars on your cheeks. You and your brother are the same.

You’re shaking too much to stand. You never go without your armor again.

[bornbreathless]

Hmmmm thinking about how OP Char actually is when she lets loose and how easy it would be for her to become intoxicated by the power and start to go down a bad path. Because honestly? How would you stop her? Someone could figure it out, eventually, but she could cause a lot of damage before that happened. It's hard to bring down a person who can kill you from the next room.

Corrupted Char doesn't have those qualms against hurting or killing people to achieve her aims. She doesn't feel guilty about it. If they're in her way and don't take whatever opportunity she affords them to get out of her way, that's their problem.

[captain-nat-cat]

Sometimes I think the Captain should’ve been way more angry at Peepaw Mark at the diner in part 2.

I mean sure there’s the obvious reasons, the whole trying to kill you, destroying the universe so badly it needed to reboot, sabotaging the ship in the first place-

But doesn’t that mean he staged for the glass in the front of the ship to break when the Captain was awakened from their cryo pod?? Wasn’t he the one that killed YOUR Mark- your universe, your Mark that will never ever be the same Mark again no matter what new universe you’re spawned into?

Sitting in that diner in the booth across from the man that killed my original universe’s Mark…idk I’m just saying the Captain should’ve lunged with their own knife hand for that one

[billycorn]

Imagine PMD2 Riolu Partner if Hero never came back after restoring Temporal Tower: If Arceus hadn't intervened and the Dark Future had disappeared.

Riolu would've returned to the guild, continued with their apprenticeship and that night on the beach, they try to accept that the dark future and hero are really gone. The dark... future?

If Hero and everyone else was from the future, then, they'll be born into this world eventually, right? It's not clear how far in the future the dark future was, but Riolu has to believe that it'll be within their lifetime.

So, Partner sets out, searching the globe for the last of the humans, and their family. Eventually, they stumble across a Duskull, young and innocent, but Riolu would recognise that aura anywhere, they couldn't forget it if they tried. Riolu shrinks away at first but slowly realises, this time, Dusknoir had the chance to be something completely different. So, after a short conversation, Riolu wishes Duskull well and continues on their journey.

Years later, Partner finds a young Treecko, living happily in the woods, surrounded by siblings and loving parents. This Treecko looks totally different from Grovyle, he doesn't have the scars, or that same hard gaze. No, this Treecko is laughing, and Partner tears up, knowing this is what always should have been. If only this Treecko knew how much the sunrise meant to him.

Partner continues, from town to town, across the continent Partner searches and... nothing. No hide nor hair of a human. So, Partner searches the globe again, and still nothing. Everyone says the same thing, humans are a myth, they've never lived in this world.

Heartbroken, Partner returns to Treasure Town, hoping to find some semblance of joy in what was once their dream. Time passes and Marill comes by the guild, saying they found someone lost, wandering through the woods. It's a Phantump. They seem confused, scared, unable to remember anything except a name.

Riolu knows it before they hear the name. This. This is Hero. Someway, somehow, Hero is here, right now. Partner hugs the Phantump and the ghost type flinches away, cautiously returning the hug after a moment.

Partner's heart aches and they offer to let Phantump stay with them at the guild and get this all figured out. Phantump agrees and Partner gets to relive their relationship all over again. Maybe this time they can be the one to give Hero strength.

[cy-fi-theansweris42]

You know, with how the Psychic 7 were trying to explore psychic abilities and stuff, I think it would be hilarious if Bob figured out invisibility on accident because he made a fool of himself in front of Helmut before they started dating.

Imagine if you will, Helmut flirting with Bob a little, just trying to test the waters, and the following happens:

Bob, trying to escape the conversation because he's Not Ready For This: I gotta go, I, uh, I have to go put my oven in the fridge. Helmut, confused but still smiling: What? Bob, panicking as he realized what he just said: What? Helmut: ... Bob: [turns invisible because he's dying of embarrassment.]

And then later, after the others have heard about how Bob figured out how to turn invisible:

Otto: So, you have to go put your oven in the fridge, huh? Bob, still dying: Shut it, Mentallis.

I just think it would be funny, lol.

[artbyfuji]

bumbleby psychic beam attack