i needed this one bigger

YOI Future!Verse ABO AU - 4 Koma

Inseparable?

Sometimes it’s hard to tell whether the twins get along or not, in fact it’s usually both simultaneously. In which they’re babies, Yasha’s already a fledgling asshole, but Shura still wants to be with him…

(Featuring OC kids Yasha and Shura as infants)

*If the comics are hard to read, tap on the image first to bring it up in the Tumblr viewer, THEN right click view image for the unaltered slightly higher resolution.

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IF YOU ARE NEW TO THIS AU: It’s a Yuri!!! on Ice AU, Yuuri-centric with end-game polyamory in an ABO setting, Yuuri gets married to four mates (Victor, Yurio, Phichit, Minami) and they have OC kids.

BASICS and timeline of this AU

INTRO to how ABO works in this AU

A SUPER DETAILED world-building headcanons post on ABO+ in this AU

OTHER POSTS (comics + illustrations) in the Future!Verse ABO section of my YOI Masterpost.

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Please keep ship bashing out of the comments/tags. Don’t like, just skip <3 Thank you.

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PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, EDIT, TRANSLATE, OR OTHERWISE USE MY ART. More detailed rules available on my Rules & FAQ Post.

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aight friends, i’m sure y’all remember @greymichaela​’s post, right? time to have a go at it, then

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lucas friar appreciation week ♡ day six 

favorite underrated moment(s) - some one liners that prove that lucas is highkey hilarious 

print for an upcoming con.
i still have five to finish with only the rest of the month to do it :’)

*phew* …It turned into a painting hehe ^^’

Anyways it’s Alya as Volpina… It’s Volpalya!

Bonus:

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astro & 10 favorite lyrics (insp.)

8 Days - Feather to Fly

You didn’t need the feather to fly, you had it in you the whole time, Dumbo”
Ruby, Lucifer Rising

Sam’s existence has been a study of pain these last one hundred and eighty five years. He is no longer afraid of it. He tries to tell them this is a mistake. He tells Toni that she is wasting her time, but she seems determined to do it. Taunting his captors, it turns out, is a poor choice. It’s a very Dean thing to do, after all, but Sam will keep Dean alive and before him in whatever way he can. Dean may have gone to the empty but as long as Sam exists then so will some part of Dean.

They hurt him. They burn and cut and name him monster. Through it all Sam gives voice only to screams, never to answers. Their frustration is some measure of amusing even in his current state. Sam has never been able to quit vengeance entirely.

On the second day, they cast a spell over him. It smells of burning bone and amaranth and Sam knows it is meant to control him, to compel him to answer to their interrogation. He expects to feel it like a drug making sludge of his system but instead it feels like pressure, as if all the secrets of his life, all the nightmarish years in the cage, the thousand, thousand ugly truths Lucifer whispered build and build until, with a crack, the pressure burst outwards. His head is wide open and emptied out.

The door in Sam’s mind – the one he slammed closed as the cage slammed open and Lucifer rose, the one that he spent a year of penance locking, sealing, and covering over – shakes free of it’s plaster and rattles on its hinges. Behind it a shade moves. Sam tried to tell them this was a mistake.

Dean keeps his promise. He does not leave Sam. He comes for him with Mary beside him and lays his hand on Sam’s cheek like absolution. Sam returns home with them, though he knows he is changed.

Three weeks later, Crowley’s bid to reclaim Hell has taken a desperate turn. They hunt him as they should have done years ago, with the intent to destroy.

The spell is powerful. Ten humans kneel around an alter, chained and gagged. Ten lambs to be slaughtered.

Crowley was waiting for them. A few chanted words in Latin and they find themselves pulled to their knees. Apparently the spell requires thirteen sacrifices. Sam cannot move or speak or hardly breathe. So here he will die, on his knees between his brother and his mother. There are worse ways to go and it has been so long since Sam has rested. Crowley can’t make it quick of course. His penchant for the melodramatic overriding his rule about monologing. He rails and he whines and he finds a way to blame this on them, with special attention to the bond he feels he shares with Dean. Dean, for his part, manages not to vomit.

Around them the spell swirls in gusts of gray and red, sulfur and brimstone hanging heavy in the air. Deans eyes are wide and wild when they find Sam’s. Dean doesn’t know how to save them, though he struggles against the spell.

Sam cannot look at Dean and think of rest, cannot stomach the idea of never seeing his brother again, cannot give up while Dean is still fighting. So he closes his eyes and reaches for the door, for the part of himself he locked away when he broke the final seal.

Sam has never forgotten a word that was said that day. He has forgiven himself for his words, forgiven Dean, too, but never Ruby. Never her. He remembers her in the rapture of her joy, dark and beautiful and terrible. Her name a name to curse the damned with, but one that will never make the history books. Even in the accounts he writes for the Men of Letter’s library, he does not write her name. She can have Carver’s books, but she can’t have Sam’s. Let her be a fiction to the world, never a truth. A petty revenge, and the only one Sam can leverage.

Still her words live on in his head.

           “You didn’t need the feather to fly,

                                                  you had it in you the whole time, Dumbo”

He had thought his choices and the black rage that fed them, were Ruby’s feather. Maybe they were, but maybe the demon blood was, too. Both leash and lure, but only leading him to himself. Sam had said there was no going back.

Now Sam is standing in front of that door again, the deep grain of the wood smeared with dirt. Here is a part of himself he bricked away, hoping it would starve and die. But it’s very much alive, he can hear it pacing back and forth see the passing of its shadow through the crack under the door. It hisses once, whispers, “Sam,” and falls still. It does not speak again, but still Sam knows that voice. It is not Ruby’s, nor Azazel’s, nor Lucifer’s, nor is it one voice only. It is his and Dean’s layered together.

Sam flings the door wide open, and the shade behind it – neither shadow or light alone – passes into him.

When Sam breathes in, the ribs of the universe expand around him as if it breathes in, too. Sam opens his eyes to Dean staring back at him. There is no fear in his face, no disgust, so Sam knows that despite the strength thrumming through him, his eyes are not black.

“It’s ok, Dean” Sam says into the wild raging of the spell. Across from him Crowley trembles.

anonymous asked:

Do you think it's possible for me to surf on my leaf? If so we could practice together!!!-@chikoritadaily

Uhm, I’d say. Negative… @chikoritadaily

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“dad im gay”
“hello gay i’m also gay”

ur friendly neighbourhood gay trans dad who gets drunk on 1 (one) can of beer, wears crocs and tells really bad jokes

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//inhale…  collapses on the floor heckie ye i did it. pff i’ve changed their races by now and the season in the background to match the time of year. (it’s from mal au, which i’ve had on deviantart for a while. basically it’s an au where lapis n jasper have an edgy band)

old is from 3october16 new is 5may17

☀️ please don’t interact if n/s/fw/k*nk or tag kin/me, thank you ☀️