#i love this bastard so much

[juice-boxy]

I suffer from Attracted-To-Bastard-Twink-Syndrome

(It’s chronic)

Click image for better quality y’all know the deall <3

[crazysnor1ax]

FORGOT TO POST THESE-Lez emotes I made for some servers lol

OG image under cut:

[skibidirizzsona3]

Heart 🖤

[kelpiemomma]

going feral for khan @ psi and inflicting it upon my followers this good 4 am morning before I go to sleep-

Thinking of khan wanting so badly to be good for ingo and Akari that he tries to tamp down on the things he does, the fighting and killing and cruelty, but it begins to set him alight. There's no other outlet quite like battling an alpha, not even going up against Ingo can compare. The spark of joy he gets from killing someone who annoys him, someone he sees as threat in some way, that not even making Akari laugh can approach because it's _not the same_. Knowing that he _could_ torture someone and knowing that he doesn't _have_ to but now he is telling himself he _can't_ and so the only person he _can_ torture is himself, except it will be noticed if he tries to cover up his arms, tries to hide new scars, he is too well _known_ and being well known means he is easily _found,_ he can't hide like he used to, doesn't _want_ to

But he _needs_ the aggression that has become his nature, needs the pain, the feeling of power and strength that he's found in his damned actions, not like how an addict needs a fix but he needs it like the worst itch to scratch, the painful tooth that has to be touched, needs it like _breathing_ because it is no longer a part of him but _who he is_

Khan loving them as much as he's capable but _regretting_ it because he _knows_ it's only going to hurt them all in the end, wishing be could turn back time and _stop_ himself from being so pathetic, so easily swayed by the visions of his younger siblings, wishing he could save Ingo and Akari from the ache of knowing his deeds and watching him struggle to _not_ follow through on his urges, desires, _needs_

He is tearing out his own vicious teeth for the chance to get an affectionate pat on the head and he hates it as much as he doesn't

[let-me-burn-in-peace]

[jackstarsketches]

THE MAN, THE LEGEND

[masonlaend]

Moreid class doodles because imagine paying attention in class

[lotus-pear]

ok gayboy

[blackkatmagic]

Sometimes it just hits me all over again how fucking insane Cody is. Like, Grievous is an enemy general who regularly kills Jedi, is armed with four (4!!!!!) lightsabers, and has in canon wiped out entire battalions full of clones when Jedi try to confront him. And Cody just. balls to the wall goes for it and full-on tackles the bastard. Dog-piles the guy who's killed more Jedi than probably any one single person. And he punches Grievous in his (metal!!!) face while he's at it.

And! His men follow his lead.

What the hell kind of charisma and pure brass balls do you have to have for that. Honestly.

[dark-elf-writes]

Vex: I mean I’m not pleased that I’ve been separated from my brother, but I can compartmentalize and deal with it

Vax: I miss my sister and I intend on making that everyone’s problem.

[ricky-mortis]

Holy bastard is such a silly ship

[veinsfullofstars]

"Back for a rematch, little Knightmare?"

(ID: Kirby series fanart of Galacta Knight seated on a cluster of tall, cracked, geometric stone pillars, framed at an angle with crescent-moon-like rock formations rising behind him as well as a starry sky backdrop. He leers down at the viewer through the cross visor of his mask, his feet crossed and his wings spread majestically, his head resting in one hand, the other held out to lazily nudge the end of his lance, which stands pierced through another pillar below him, his shield similarly embedded in a third pillar beside it. Behind his horns shines a brilliant halo of glowing pink Heart Spears, the pale light that radiates from it erupting in rings of soft flares and leaving all surfaces rimmed with sparkles, as beautiful as it is ominous. END ID.)

Started 07/07/24, finished 07/13/24.

[demaparbat-hp]

Thinking about @stygiovictoria's Roleswap AU.

[artandbrimstone]

i'm gonna burn my house down into an ugly black

i'm gonna run away now and never look back

[starry-bi-sky]

Unpleasant Revelations - DPxDC Ficlet Idea for the Stillborn Au

"Have you met my youngest, Damian, Mr. Masters?"

Its only from twenty years of long, hard experience and practice that Vlad doesn't increase the room temperature from 'borderline uncomfortably cool' to 'unbearably hot' the moment Bruce Wayne pulls his youngest and "only" biological son out in front of him.

He puts only in quotations because twelve year old Damian Wayne looks scarily, uncannily like one Daniel Brown. Jack and Maddie's foster son, second victim of their foolishness, and only other halfa in existence. Second only to him.

It's nauseating how similar they look. From the scowl and terrible glare on the young boy's face, to his brown skin -- which was only a few shades lighter than Daniel's, the shape of his nose, and even the strange winged edge of his eyebrow. Something that Vlad has long since come to find endearing on the child he considered a son of his own. The only difference was that Damian had dark, sharp green eyes.

Daniel's eyes were blue. The same glacier shade as his father's, who stood behind Damian with a proud, oafish smile on his visage.

It was infuriating how similar they look. Vlad might not have rapidly swung the room temperature from one extreme to the other, but he can't stop himself from letting the fury burning within his core from slipping out and raising the temperature up a few degrees.

Because it really only meant one thing.

Damian Wayne and Daniel Brown were related.

Damian Wayne and Daniel Brown were brothers.

Standing in front of him, it was clear as day. He can already picture a phantom image of Daniel standing beside Damian, the same scowl written on his face, the same glare carved into his eyes. The only difference being the dark, exhausted circles beneath them that seemed to be permanently painted onto his skin. The only thing missing being the permanent loneliness and vigilance permeating his being like a scar.

This, if revealed, would be enough to ruin Bruce Wayne's reputation. Or, at the very least, darken it quite a bit. The great philanthropist Bruce Wayne with another secret blood child? One related to his youngest? One that had been put into foster care? Seemingly thrown away?

It would be a firestorm.

One that Vlad is not keen on starting.

It would ruin Bruce Wayne's reputation, yes. But it would hurt Daniel in the process -- the harassment he would face alone might just be enough to break that fragile child completely. That was just not something he could allow. Or, even worse, bring him into his biological father's care and custody -- something Vlad was even less willing to allow.

It's not out of kindness to Wayne that Vlad will keep mum about this.

His grip on his champagne flute tightens, just a bit. He's still aware enough of the world around him to not let it shatter in his hands. His plastered, pleasant smile tightens around the corners, and he forces his focus to slide from Damian to Wayne.

"The resemblance is uncanny, Mister Wayne." He says, slanting his smile to the side slyly. Although he's not talking about the resemblance between Wayne and his son. Rage simmers beneath his skin, burning coal and embers in the core of his chest, nestled between his lungs, as he meets the man's eyes.

Wayne swaggles his head proudly, his ditzy smile widening as he squeezes his son's shoulder affectionately. Bastard, Vlad wants to spit.

He breathes in through his nose, and exhales out through his mouth. The champagne in his hand cools, and stops its unusual bubbling.

The Damian boy scoffs under his breath, his mouth still coiled upward into a scowl. With the revelation of his blood relation to Daniel evident, Vlad's not sure if he should find it endearing or not.

He is not Daniel, so he decides that it's just simply irritating. He decides to ignore it.

"And you said he was your only biological son?" He asks, voice lilting and head tilting. He knows its a suspicious question at worst, insulting at best. But considering Wayne's past proclivities, he can hardly call it an unexpected question.

Damian puffs in great offense, face twisting angrily. It reminds him of Daniel when Vlad insisted that he was wrong about something or other, and for a moment his heart swells, fond.

But this is not his child, and so the feeling quickly crashes and burns, simmering back into rage. This was not Daniel -- this was his replacement. A replacement that Wayne was free to keep.

Wayne chuckles, idiotically, as if he'd said some funny joke. Vlad's other hand, the one gripping his cane -- something he's required ever since he was dispatched from the hospital all those lonely years ago -- tightens instead. He grinds his teeth -- him and Jack Fenton would get along like a house on fire, he hates it.

"I can understand why you'd ask that, Mister Masters," Wayne says, squeezing Damian's shoulder again, "but yes, Damian is my only biological son. Although that doesn't mean I don't love my other children any less."

Bastard.

For all his posturing and flouncing about caring for his city and his children, Vlad never would have thought the Prince of Gotham capable of abandoning one of them.

But, well.

They all have their dark secrets.

And what one man throws away, another man picks up. If Bruce Wayne didn't want the treasure child that was Daniel Brown, then Vlad Masters was more than happy to take him instead.

"I see."

[sneez]

family portrait :D young sam and sybil are behaving themselves and vimes is throwing a hissy fit because they tried to make him wear the helmet

[id: a digital painting of three people sitting for a portrait in a domestic interior. young sam is standing with his hands behind his back and beaming proudly. vimes is standing behind him with his hand on his shoulder, wearing a shiny military uniform and a surly expression. sybil is sitting on the right with an arm around young sam, smiling at the viewer. a plumed helmet is sitting on a table on the left. end id.]