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#oh three times lol
konaharts · 3 months
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alastor just wants to have a quick chat
(vox is fine, he'll walk it off)
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wyvernity · 22 days
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been thinking about the sinnohtrio lately......plus misc other stuff
also, casual ko-fi drop!! get something in this sketchy style starting at $10 woop woop
#finally decided to do a commission test run u_u#pokemon#trainer lyra#trainer kris#trainer dawn#trainer lucas#rival barry#rival silver#ayalumi#hisuian zorua#luxio#timeskip tag#rkgk#anyway it's sinnoh time !!!#still figuring out their designs and lore but this works for now#god's specialest little guys & their very normal bestfriend who they would kill/die for. up to interpretation who is killing/dying#dawn is the platinum protag who meets giratina and becomes champion#distortion world affected her way more than compared to cynthia and cyrus since she's still a developing kid. but hey cool ghost hair!#4-5 yrs later lucas gets blasted to hisui..lost his memory for the three years he's there and when arceus sends him back he's just like Man#the entire time barry is CHILLING PLAYING HAVING FUN#and forever worried abt his friends ): dawn & lucas are soo nonchalant about what happened to them it's a bit concerning to everyone else#design comments umm the only thing that matters is that they still have their og scarves 👍#and i guesss these are spring/summer outfits. winter dawn gets leggings and big coat ok. she already has too much yin energy#btw i use the cleanse tag as the direct opposition to the spell tag even tho that's probably not a real thing LOL)#oh yea barry wears the tower master ribbon 24/7. tower tycoon in training and won't shut up about it (i love him)#character dynamics i will talk abt that in another post if i feel like it... these days i just want to go replay pla aughh
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hellspawnmotel · 7 months
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remember when I did this?
well I did more
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strawberri-draws · 2 months
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"Innocence died screaming, Honey ask me, I should know. I slithered here from Eden; Just to sit outside your door"
-From Eden, Hozier
aka: au where they grow old in the dungeon together in their monster forms.
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skellagirl · 3 months
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Gordon/Barney/Alyx is really really funny to me conceptually bc it's like, two hot geniuses in their 20s who look at the 40-something smartass who hangs around and go 'yeah that guy. we both want him carnally'
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ultimateyakazoo · 11 months
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chapter 1 trial
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ducks-love-peas · 4 months
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meanwhile, Crowley:
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Good Omens 2 | ⭑favorite moments⭑ 2/?
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padawansuggest · 1 year
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Obi-Wan: Cody. Oh sweet sweet, good man Cody. I just don’t think we could be together.
Cody: Oh. Um. Is it because I’m a clone?
Obi-Wan: *trying not to admit that he would literally go insane and either try and steal the whole army, or kill the chancellor if he admitted to his feelings* Well. It’s… a conflict of interests.
Cody: *well versed in Kenobi speak, which is why he knows that doesn’t add up* What?
Anakin: *taking out his headphones ten feet away* He said you guys have conflicting mental illnesses.
Cody: That’s not-
Obi-Wan: No no, that fits the situation pretty well, actually.
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cits-cookie-brainrot · 11 months
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BIG BRAIN TIME!!
The WHOLE red dragon crew is now parents/family to lil baby Snapdragon. The little rascals was just born and is already collecting their found family like Pokémon cards.
Pitaya is their dragon parent.
Hollyberry is the cool mom.
Tarte Tatin is the cooler mom.
Royal Margarine is the funny uncle.
Wildberry is their big brother.
And Buttercream? Well…
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b4kuch1n · 1 year
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sunstroll
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mizartz · 2 years
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The man with his rucksack raises the gun. Danny looks at him, really looks at him, sees his wide eyes and trembling hands and thinks that it serves him right. Danny’s own eyes glow green and bright, blood dripping down his face. “Better make it count,” he snarls.
fanart for close enough to be whole again by @hailsatanacab <3 i am obsessed with this fic!!!
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tvckerwash · 1 month
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I have a hc that post beating the crap out of his CO but prior to being demoted back to corporal, wash spent like a week as an ODST drill sergeant as a 'punishment' until the higher ups finished their investigation, and that's the only real experience training others he has going into chorus.
so basically, wash tortured tucker and the combined armies of chorus with the brutal training used to root out the people who couldn't make the cut as an ODST, which only makes the scene where the kids jump grif even funnier than it already is.
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the-holy-ghosted · 8 months
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Came out of the ocean, like you came out of a dream...
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demeterdefence · 10 days
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LMAOOO im sorry i have been holding it back but i can’t do this that’s persephone. it’s SUPPOSED to be rhea it’s SUPPOSED to be hades’ mom but that is 1000% persephone. anti lo community has been saying this for years but the similarity hits you upside the head with a baseball bat here look at this
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im about to go fucking bonkers
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luciuscaelus · 1 month
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Our Story (Fanfic)
Chapter 1 Promises
“Now, sing O Muses, of that brave boy Odysseïdes, Sparta has he visit'd, Pylos twice, with Athena the wise queen…”
“Stop it,” Telemachus giggled. “You’re acting like your father.”
“No, I’m not,” said Peisistratus. “You’re acting like your father.”
“No, I’m not,” said Telemachus. “Unlike him, I don’t have many deeds to brag about.”
“Doesn’t sailing for the first time count?” Peisistratus insisted. “And if you don’t like this song I can always make a new one for you.”
“No thanks, Peisis,” Telemachus said. “At least, leave it till my birthday.”
“That I can arrange,” Peisistratus replied, seriously.
And they locked their gazes for a long time, until Telemachus finally burst out laughing. Soon Peisistratus joined him, and their laughter quickly flooded the entire palace. It died down eventually, as the two young men slowly calmed down. Then Peisistratus started:
“I’m so glad you’re here, Tele. Had it been another usual day, I’d be hunting with my brothers in the fields. Not that I don’t like hunting, it’s just that I’ve so many things to talk about and my brothers always find them either boring or childish. You might be the only one I could chat with. Ah, I wish you could visit Pylos more often.”
“Yeah,” Telemachus nodded. “It feels like such a long time since we last met…has it been two years already?”
“One whole year plus nine months, to be exact.”
“Right, I’m not gonna doubt you. After all, you’re better with this than I am.”
“That’s about the time since your father returned home, yep.”
“Before he set out again, you mean.”
“He set out again? About when?”
Telemachus sighed. “About one year and eight months ago. Said it was something concerning a prophecy someone named Teiresias told him—”
“Teiresias? The Teiresias? But isn’t he already dead?”
“Yep. My father had visited the Underworld, literally.”
Peisistratus gasped. “What—Oh my, that was some nostos your father had. Anyway has he met any great hero there? Like Theseus? Or Heracles? Or even my brother Antilochus?”
“He saw your brother there alright,” said Telemachus. “And Heracles, who even talked to him…”
“That’s so sick!” Peisistratus exclaimed. “I wonder if we’ll be having an adventure like this in the future, say, just you and me, maybe plus someone else, I don’t know.”
“You know what? It would be great!” Telemachus blinked his eyes excitedly. Why have I never thought about it before? Hanging out with my friends? It’s such a great idea! And father is going to be proud of us…
proud…
He’s going to be proud, isn’t he?
Telemachus wasn’t so sure. He remembered basically everything in that day, when his father again departed from Ithaca, this time to somewhere unknown even to himself. He remembered that it was a sunny day, that the chanting of birds was glorious, that the sweet scent of olives was mesmerizing, that the airy dance of cloud was elegant. These he remembered well, but most vividly he could recall that very scene, that very conversation—
“Father, I want to come along,” he had said. “I want to be with you wherever you go, so we can at least share some thrills and fun together.”
“No, Tele,” his father had answered, shaking his head. “I’m sorry, but I can’t bring you on board, not this time.”
“Why?” He had been so confused. “But I’ve always wanted to explore the worlds outside Ithaca, to see the giant oak in Dodona, the reputable land of Calydon, the seven gates of the famous Cadmea…I want to have an adventure, father. Just like you did.”
He remembered that look well. That look his father had gave him, those eyes with such agony, such sadness. Is it panic, panicking at the thought of his son following him down the miserable path that was meant for his own to take? Is it fear, fearing for the life and sanity of his son? Or is it sorrow, sorrowful over the naïve and innocent spirit of his 20-year-old son? Or is it pain, painful about the fact that he doesn’t even qualify as being a father, who never had the chance to see his son through the childhood, and hadn’t gotten to know this brave young man his son has become, before his fate was calling him to sail out again?
For a long time both of them didn’t speak, and the look was growing wearier and wearier and…it seemed as if another decade had passed inside his father’s mind, another decade filled with tribulations and torments. Telemachus couldn’t help but feel his regret. Regret that he ever said those words, regret that he wasn’t with his father when he needed him. The hands. He could feel his father’s hands gripping his shoulders tightly. But finally his father had lower the head, and sighed heavily. In a low voice, Odysseus had begun. “Tele, you have to understand. This cruel world is not as entertaining as it may seem, or sound in those tales. It’s dangerous out there, filled with monsters, storms, ruthless gods, and…and things that can go beyond your very imagination. Things that are so terrible, so overwhelming…”
He hadn’t finished the sentence, instead he was choked with sobs, and Telemachus had felt so guilty, and so helpless. But he had tried his best to withhold his tears, and had started to comfort his father. “Then I’ll face them bravely, father, like you would do. Like a true son of Odysseus would do.” Telemachus had put up with a smile. “As a true Odysseïdes.”
“Oh Tele…” Odysseus had moaned with tears. “Oh…for ten years I haven’t seen your face, in one month I haven’t gotten to know you better, but look, what an undaunted man you have become, when I’m away!” Finally, he had cracked into a smile. “Yes, that’s my boy!” He had said with sincere happiness, though the pain was still present in his voice. But at least, Odysseus had smiled.
And Telemachus had exhaled with relief.
“Father,” he had continued. “I wouldn’t insist if you really don’t want me along, but I need to know where you’re going, what you’re going to do, and how long I should wait for your return. Could you please tell me, just for mom’s sake and mine?”
And Odysseus had nodded. “Don’t worry about your mother, Telemachus. Penelope knows about this, and you have every right to know it as well.” He had stopped, and looked towards the western sky. As Telemachus followed his gaze, Odysseus continued. “Do you remember the story I’ve told you, about that prophet Teiresias in the Underworld? I had asked him about my fate, and he had answered:
‘…When someone else runs into you and says you've got a shovel used for winnowing on your broad shoulders, then fix that fine oar in the ground there, and make rich sacrifice to lord Poseidon with a ram, a bull, and a boar that breeds with sows. Then leave. Go home, and there make sacred offerings to the immortal gods…’
“So you see, Telemachus, I don’t know where I’ll go to, but I know what I’ll find. It may be a long voyage, or it may be short. Who knows? But I’m going anyway, because I am Laërtiades, son of the honorable Laërtes—one of the legendary Argonauts.”
“I see,” Telemachus had said. “The blood of dauntlessness runs deep in our family.”
“Precisely.” Odysseus had laughed proudly. “You, my son, will also share this honor, in the future perhaps, when you take on a journey of your own, and build your fame with your own feats. But today, the journey is mine to undertake, and with the blessing of the prophet, I’m very certain that I will make it home again.”
“Okay.” With a serious face, Telemachus had nodded. “Then I’ll try not to surpass you.”
They were both grinning when an owl started to whoop from the forest.
“Wait, dad,” Telemachus had suddenly called. “If not this time, then when?”
Odysseus had given him a slight smile. “When I return, son, I shall take you to Dodona, where the oaks are august; then we’ll visit Calydon, where twenty two heroes had once gathered to slay that giant boar; then we shall go to Thebes, where twice had the Argives waged war against, one of them being the father of a king whom I have befriended; and then,” Odysseus had patted Telemachus’s right shoulder. “Then I will bring you to Pylos again. And know that I won’t be gone for long. This is a promise.”
“Swear it on the river of Styx?”
“I swear it, on the river of Styx.”
Gradually, Telemachus had returned the smile. “Thank you, dad.” He had said, voice cracked with the bittersweet taste in his throat. “Thank you so much.”
He remembered the hug, the kiss, and the departure of his father clearly. He remembered how often he had doubted that whether his father would ever make it back again. He remembered that worried look of his mother, who had often stood by the shores of Ithaca, waiting, waiting. But he also remembered, that Odysseus had made a promise.
And here they were, in Pylos again, weren’t they?
And it only took him eight months, didn’t it?
So, there’s nothing to worry about. After all, there’s nothing that can waver the resolve of Odysseus’s homecoming. And thus he shall always return. Always.
All because of his love, and his promise.
Telemachus nodded to this fact. Love, and promise. That’s what my father was proud of. And if I have found the courage to love, to make a promise, then will Odysseus be proud of me, even with the knowledge that I may travel afar, likely into an ocean of danger, and a sea of trouble?
Then will we get to have our adventure, and get back safely? Will we get to tell our tales, and make our own story?
So to Peisistratus he said these words, with all his heart:
“And I’m sure we will. Of this I give you my promise.”
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todayisafridaynight · 7 months
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whatever //blasts your old man with the butch beam//
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