#I FORGOT I WAS TAKING A NAP

[malachitezmeyka]

I went down for an afternoon nap and was actually getting some of the best sleep I had in ages – at least, until my subconscious decided I don’t deserve sleep and gave me an arachnophobia-based nightmare, and when I startled awake I was like “Well, I’ll probably have to get up for school soon anyways” and leaned over to check my phone:

19:38

Cue at least a minute of slow blinking as I dissolve into utter confusion

[theactualsunshinechild]

If Castorice is cursed to kill whoever she touches and Mydei is cursed to be immortal, do you think Mydei ever goes to Castorice on a really bad day and is like, hey can you put me down for a bit please? I'm having these phantom pains from fatal wounds and injuries that don't exist anymore and they're keeping me up, I want a nap.

And obviously at first Castorice is like "L-lord Mydei, please rethink this, death is not something to be trifled with! Even with your condition, I cannot guarantee your safe return..." and Mydei takes the time to reassure her that, no, he's sure about this, and yes he is willing to bear the risks, no he doesn't care if it will hurt, please euthanize him. It takes a bit of convincing but eventually she agrees to risk it, and, fear in her heart, gently places a hand on his shoulder.

Mydei wobbles and collapses dead on the spot. Castorice lets go and starts fretting internally, stepping back and circling around, frantically searching for any sign of life. How long does it usually take for Mydei to come back? Will he come back at all? Her own curse is clearly effective on him after all... To her relief, it only takes a few seconds for Mydei's eyes to flutter open again to find himself supine, with limbs bent at various awkward angles from the way he ragdolled.

It was a very peaceful few seconds, no pain, no blood, just an pleasant floating sensation as the familiar dark waves of the Styx rocked him side to side gently, before a bright guiding light forcibly pulled him right back. If not for the uncomfortable position he came to in, he'd even say the experience did some old aches a lot of good. The slight relieved smile that comes across her face as he explains this belies how many years of uncertainty and grief she's experienced over the many deaths she had enacted prior. She must have had no way of knowing for sure, until now, whether or not the deaths she delivered were as gentle as she hoped, Mydei realized.

It takes slightly less convincing to have Castorice try again. This time, they arrange more comfortably, Mydei sitting down against a wall, Castorice taking his offered hand in hers. As his hand goes limp in hers, his skin slowly cooling, she draws comforting circles on it with her thumb, more for herself than for his unfeeling body. After several minutes this time, each feeling longer than the last, she lets go and backs away once more, waiting with bated breath for the moment he shudders back to life, taking air back into empty lungs, eyes bright again, fierce, lively and visibly well-rested.

They agree to never exceed 15 minutes, Castorice explaining he would likely not enjoy coming back to the discomfort of gravity having caused all of his stilled blood to pool and settle inside of his body, let alone his body having cooled. Mydei agrees easily and assures her that he will keep his requests for deathly repose infrequent.

Castorice often passes the time Mydei spends dead trying to occupy her hands, the nerves never quite leaving her alone. Knowing logically that Mydei will come back and fearing that maybe he won't come back this time are two separate things after all. She tries many things, from bringing a scroll to read, to embroidery, shoulder pressed to his, trying to ignore how much bolder the red tattoos look against the pallor of a dead man. When Mydei wakes to Castorice's fingers pricked and bleeding for the third time, he frowns and offers for her to braid his hair next time if she wishes.

The next time, a month later, they arrange slightly differently, Castorice sitting on a bench, Mydei lowering his head into her lap, his hair an offering she wills herself to accept. Having assisted with many a funeral rite, Castorice is able to lose herself in the process of carefully weaving the messy soft locks into shape. The texture is strangely soothing, despite how unnaturally still Mydei remains, and Castorice imagines that this must be similar to what it feels like to pet a lion's fluffy mane. When the sand stops flowing, Castorice moves Mydei's head out of her lap to walk five places away once more. He comes to, gasping for breath as usual, and reaches up to feel at the new braids he sensed in his hair. A ghost of a smile graces his face when he finds them to be satisfactory, and he wears them for the rest of the day as a sign of appreciation. Castorice fiddling with his hair while he is dead quickly becomes the standard for their little meetings. Sometimes he wakes up with no new braids, but he doesn't question it so long as Castorice doesn't appear to be in any distress.

The first time Phainon spotted Mydei with his head in Castorice's lap, Castorice gently running her fingers through his hair as if he were a very large cat, Phainon almost passed them by with how peaceful they looked...

Then did a double take and panicked.

Anyway, that's my headcanon at least for how Castorice can say that the death she brings with her touch is peaceful. I think discovering that killing Mydei with her touch grants him what is essentially a banger nap from his perspective, probably helped her find an amount of peace in those early years. Truly putting the rest in "putting to rest"with this one.

Obviously she'd still prefer to be able to touch people and creatures without having them die, but at least she has learned that it isn't painful when she kills this way.

Additionally I like to imagine that while being killed by Castorice feels soothing, getting killed normal ways feels like shit, painful the whole way through, and then you get dunked violently into the Styx. And for Mydei specifically, it's more like he gets dunked into the Styx only to get yoinked right out, soul still sopping wet and cold, and forced back into a body that is fully repaired but it's happened so fast to him that his nerves have him feeling the aftershocks of the injuries that are already gone.

[pillowspace]

(Audience of vaugarde ask) im curious how Loop's Bonnie in particular would deal with being part of the audience post loops. I imagine they would want to reunite with their sister, but having a doppelganger and being part of the audience would greatly complicate that.

Bonnie's dealing with it pretty well! /j

Do they eventually get Nille back? Who knowsss...

Also, this was my first time ever properly drawing Bonnie, so here's a normal version without shadows:

( other posts in this AU: Audience of Vauguarde | Mira's ribbon | Loop's name | extra info | classic mistake | Bonnie's wishes | *unshadows your hat* | long hair | Isaloop comfort )

[greenlaut]

tea & dates

continuation of bitter tea & oranges

[ooctlt]

what's everyone's favourite rainy day activities at the beach?

send in your 20 questions

beach part 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 |

directory | tutorial | ko-fi

[seasicksilver]

in art block hell

[aayakashii]

"Go inside. Immediately." Romeo lightly pushed you inside his obscenely wide bathroom and pointed at the tall wooden stool propped in front of his bathroom counter.

"You really don't have to do this..." you dragged your feet slowly and stood awkwardly beside the seating, staring at yourself in the mirror.

You had a full face of makeup, carefully and masterfully applied by Romeo himself after he required your presence in Sinostra for a special night. Some rich student decided to celebrate their birthday at the casino, and Romeo would be damned not to take that chance to drain their pockets for all they were worth.

What was your role in it? Romeo wasn't really sure. But he did make sure, however, that you were there and impeccably attired.

And he did a great job, if he must say so himself. Especially with your eyes. They looked striking and sharp, and he watched all night, with smugness and a bit of a weird discomfort he couldn't quite understand, how so many students seemed to willingly trap themselves inside your gaze. If Romeo could have gotten a nickel for every student who complimented your eyes, he was pretty sure he could have made some solid cash.

Alas, he didn't, so he could only listen as stupid boy after stupid girl after stupid boy after stupid girl came and went, complimenting his very own work of art. The makeup. Obviously. Makeup is artistry, after all. You just happened to be a convenient, compliant canvas (that he kept close to himself all night).

Or so he kept saying to himself.

"Quiet." He hissed, closing the door to the bathroom and making his way towards you and his counter. He unceremoniously grabbed your shoulders and turned you around, with your back now facing the mirror.

"If I don't do this, you'll definitely do a terrible job removing your makeup, then you'll get acne because of those clogged pores, and THEN you'll be even more of an eyesore for me. In the end, I'm doing this for MY sake. Sit down and shut up." He rambled on, satisfied enough with his excuse, as he thoroughly washed his hands.

"Sure..." you said, rolling your eyes, disbelief making itself clear on your voice as you sat on the wooden stoll.

"Do you have any allergies?" He rummaged through the drawers of his counter, carefully selecting a whole collection of products and placing them right next to you. Romeo flipped his hair as he admired himself in the mirror for a second.

"No, siree." You answered, feet dangling as you read the flashy labels of the products.

"Good." He huffed. "Lean back on the counter and close your eyes. Don't open them, otherwise you're gonna get itchy eyes and I don't wanna hear you whine."

"Ooookay." You muttered and leaned back, doing as he said. You knew there wasn't much reason for you to discuss with him when he had his mind set on doing something his way, so you just chose to accept your fate.

Romeo opened a bottle of ridiculously expensive micellar water and poured it on a makeup wipe, shuffling closer to you as he leaned down to apply it on your face.

As much as he tried not to focus on your face as he slowly dragged the cotton pad on your skin, Romeo couldn't help but observe all of your minute details.

He couldn't help but notice how your pores were a bit bigger on your cheeks and how you had the thinnest, almost imperceptible, crease lines between your eyebrows. Probably from furrowing them on the daily, and knew he probably contributed to the etching of those lines on you. He thought of maybe getting you your own jade roller but dismissed the idea with a shake of his head – why would he willingly spend his own money on someone else? That would never be his brand.

He noticed the acne scars on your cheeks and your forehead and scowled. Not at the markings per se, but at how his mind immediately raced to imagine how you looked during your teenage years. You were probably a mess, even more unkempt and disastrous than you were as an adult – a pitiful ugly duckling; something completely unrelatable to Romeo, who had perfect porcelain skin his whole life (a courtesy of being born with a golden spoon in his hands).

And yet, it still frustrated him how he would never be privy to the life you had before meeting him. He would never see you grow into yourself, like a baby deer with shaking legs finally learning how to trot a little less clumsily. Romeo would never be part of a whole chunk of your past, and deep inside, it upset him.

And the fact that he was upset made him scowl ever harder. His fingers unconsciously pressed down on your skin more forcefully, and you winced.

"Hey, don't use so much strenght." You murmured, holding his wrist with one hand. Romeo clicked his tongue, shaking you off.

He grabbed another cotton pad and applied a dab of moisturizer, resuming his ministrations with less intensity.

And with them, his eyes focused on you again: on the dark circles under your eyes and your darker eyelids. On the fine smile lines on the sides of your lips and the bunny lines on the bridge of your nose. He analyzed every patch of discoloration and hyperpygmentation on your face with some sort of secret reverence that he wished eluded him, but didn't.

After all, you lived through joy, sorrow, anger, and despair, and your skin told your story to those who could see it up close. You were an open book for him, someone who could read the words carved in every little detail of your face. He could almost claim he knew you best just from that. What he didn't know, however, was if you were brave or just plain stupid.

Romeo knew his flawless appearance wasn't exactly the blueprint for courage. He donned a mask of perfection in order to stay in control: to control how others saw him and to control how he saw himself. The more poreless and uniform his skin was, the more things could stay the same, with money in his pockets and people under his command.

And so, he hid his traumas under retinol serum and rosehip oil and infrared lights. Fake it till you make it, or so his mother would say after it all came crashing down.

Romeo knew better than anyone else that he couldn't be as vulnerable as you. Vulnerability would mean assuming his losses and bequeathing the only power he had.

So if that meant you were just a bit stronger than he was, just a bit more courageous than he was, then maybe – maybe – he could quietly admit to himself that he admired you.

He would never ever say that to your face, though. Fuck no. That would never be his brand.

[wurmwizzard]

latest little detailz on my jacket. new Creachures patch and an eyeball for my salamander dragon 🧿

[sunlight-shunlight]

is it really indecipherable. really.

[spilycoris]

Your are is divine, I'm having a luxurious feast 🗣️‼️

UQGDHHH STARTS SOBBING THANK YOU?;!??!

here. take moros as a little treat

[sp00ki-gh0ulz]

uhhh how do you draw old people??? both belong to @orxinus

[acesoddity]

ANOTHER SONIC MOVIE STICKER WOOHOO!! >:] can't wait to make some more agent stone content GRAH!! everyone's designs for him have been SO RAD AND INSPIRING!! thinking i'll make a standee or a keychain in the near future!

[skullinacowboyhat]

the wraith [he/they]

[humanmorph]

i do still (occasionally) (also when keith mentions it) think about how noone really interacted with phrygian much outside of their humanoid shape much (room, place, objects etc), and when they did it usually went with a general sense of that being so strange / weird / kind of offputting. and of course part of it is that it's jokes from the cast & saying things like 'i don't want to party inside of you' are just kind of funny, i guess*, and on the other hand (watsonian) i can buy it from the characters who were raised with/under anti-branched propaganda, HOWEVER

Get over it!! Get over it!!!!! Skill‼️ Issue‼️

[fukit-im-bucket]

come and getcho gays~ 🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️

we have: teru being teru and yoshioka he/himple. :)

happy pride month and #26th dimple friday!

(fun fact: this dimple friday marks the halfway point for the year! woohoo! here's to another 26 dimple fridays~ ✨️💚)

[c-kiddo]

post and headcanon purely for Me . but i think cad should get a pet cat . i dont think he ever particularly fawned over frumpkin or anything but thats bc frumpkins busy and a magic cat and belongs to caleb. but like i think he should have a pet cat and talk to it like its just a person , in a dad kind of way . like Hey man how're you doing? and the pet cat is just chilling on the front step of the temple and it flops over to show its belly