#but like im reverse for me
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I should be asleep but I'm thinking abt this video that's like how music youre making sounds at night vs when you relisten in the morning and I like fully get it now this is crazy
#but like im reverse for me#was fucking around on beep box earlier and now it sounds like ASSSSSSS 😭#never touching the computer Again woah#kae.txt
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Nothing particularly interesting today besides some vandermatthews angst!!
#big fan of the trope of forgetting a lovers face over time following their death or departure#except im not cuz it makes me sad#rdr2 dutch#rdr2 fanart#rdr2#rdr2 hosea#vandermatthews#also I gave dutch reverse holsters like hosea cuz I like to imagine him grasping at any kind of familiarity in his later yrs#anyway!#byebye!
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"tek" in "tangotek" does a lot of heavy lifting to make it sound more kiki but "leman" in "skizzleman" makes it sound more bouba
#and now actually add their personalities (or however you/i perceive their personalities) and the categorization becomes even more difficult#wha wah i cant categorize them in neat little boxes (there is just now more boxes. boubaful kiki and kikiful bouba)#zed and impulse like as words are pretty definitive to me. zedaph is bouba and impulse is kikiful bouba#but then i once again think about how i characterize and draw hem and they reverse. zed is kikiful bouba now and impulse is bouba#so basically if i put them in little boxes with characterization and how i draw them in mind#tangotek kiki; skizz boubaful kiki; zed kikiful bouba; and impulse is just bouba#im only really qualified to talk about zed so everyone else is pretty much imho#mauv's meowing
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idia’s simultaneous call-out and self-reflection while also still being directed at rollo hits really hard man 😭
like he's not just talking to rollo, he is also acknowledging his own feelings especially with the whole book 6 debacle
#[—✦ rambling#-✧ twst gameplay#glorious masquerade#these arent new thoughts i know hgdlskjfd#but i just. aghhhh#im still not an idia liker in any sense tbh#more power to the people who like him 😭 i get you guys but not my cup of tea#but his backstory and relationships with both orthos are one of my favorite things about twst#book 6 made me cry in every way possible#anyways glomas my beloved lmao#azul really changed the mood by uno-reversing rollo
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they saw u from across the room and they really liked ur vibe (they’re gonna rob you later)
#astarion x tav#astarion ancunin#bg3 tav#drow tav#bg#baldur’s gate 3#hag romance.#mine.#FINALLY finished this god I’ve been so busy im literally just drawing in between travelling 😭🙏#but omG…. hag romance REAL can you believe it!!!!#astarion having vampire claws is real to me. as well as having two fingers trimmed. 🤭🤭#their rings 🤭🤭 silver ring with a darker ruby bc it’s astarion and shri’iia is a gold ring with brighter rubies#the silver and gold vibes… if I think really hard and reach so far this too can be jb#also I adjusted astarion’s colour to be more dull bc I like the contrast where they have similar base colours but shri’iia is more vibrant#bc she’s alive but he is not. part of the reason why I wanted to finish this is bc I wanted to see that contrast finally#but for ascendant/spawn it’s reversed hehe …🤭😮💨
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What if the lights randomly turn on one day? Like someone buys the studio and as a result with paying electricity bills and what not they just turn on so they can clean up but onstead find wally, frank, howdy, and poppy just 🧍🏻🧍🏻🐛🦩
local puppets get Flashbanged
#im sorry this is. Hysterical to me#some dude: huh i wonder what this switch does#four puppets somewhere else: diving under tables and screeching#their poor felted eyes....#i can so clearly imagine them fumbling around squinting So Hard#its like the reverse of waking up in the dark and its arguably Worse#ouch...#scribble salad#wh lights out au#Obviously This Is Not Au-Canon#but its very funny. im laughing!#internally!
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Mirror and The Rose
#reverse 1999#r1999#re1999#isolde#kakania#isokania#isolde x kakania#isolde von dittarsdorf#klara vingler#helloo im back bcs the brainrot hits like a truck#smth smth abt the symbolism and parallel of these two drives me insane
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☆ even the gods bleed
{☆} characters furina, neuvillette {☆} notes cult au, imposter au, multi-chapter, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings blood, injury, light angst {☆} word count 2.3k
What was justice?
Focalors had asked herself that question many times during the long nights she spends awake pouring over the prophecy of a dead God, words replaying in her mind like a broken record until the sun rose like a blooming flower.
She was the God of Justice, an Archon, yet she herself lacked the answer to such a simple and yet so very complex question.
How does one define what is just and what is not? How does she know that what she believes to be just is right? Is it justice if one being alone may sway the scales of justice on a whim? What justice is there to be found in the cold, watery grave that awaits her nation?
She does not know.
Perhaps she may never know.
What she does know, at least, is that this is not justice.
It is a mockery of it.
She stands before the bloodied, broken body like the judge, her sword held so tightly in her hand her fingers feel stiff, a dull ache adding to the weight of what she's seen. For a long, horrible moment she almost thinks they are dead – something she would have reveled in, only a day prior – before she sees the subtle rise and fall of their chest. Breathing, but barely.
The rain felt heavier upon her shoulders at the realization – she was not sure if it was in relief or horror.
Her nails dig into her palm, mind stuck somewhere between that abject horror and confusion so palpable she swore she could hear the gears in her head turning.
For a long, silent moment as she stares upon the body beneath the heavy rain..she wonders if this is how it all ends instead. If the world itself will simply crumple in on itself and cease – without its heart, it will wither, after all – long before the waters ever swallow her nation whole.
Because, try as she might to rationalize it, for every drop of rain that hits her like pins and needles, soaking her down to the bone..the body of the imposter is completely dry. Even the water pooling along the stones dares not to leave so much as a splotch against their ragged, torn clothes.
She remembers the meeting so very clearly, and she thinks she is a fool to not have noticed sooner – the Creator upon their gilded throne, finger pointed in accusation at the visage far too similar to their own. The imposter. She remembers the lilt of their voice as they called for their death as easily as one would speak of the weather – and to no one other then herself would she admit the spark of fear it had ignited within her. Because beneath the divine charade there was a sick enjoyment in the way they looked upon the imposter – like a bug beneath their shoe.
She understands, now.
She had thought that perhaps finally – finally – she could do right by her people, by her Creator, if she rid Teyvat of this..intrusion.
Now she sees herself as what it all really is – blind lambs following the herder.
Perhaps she would be considered a heretic under the eyes of the law – beneath the weight of justice, heavy as the heart that bears its sins. Perhaps this is a mistake, one she would come to regret.
But for now, she sheathes her blade with unsteady hands, the sound making her ears ring – for what she had almost done, what she had already done – as she stumbles like a newborn lamb towards the broken body of..
..What, exactly? Human? Divine? She is not so sure what to call them. Creator? No. The name is bitter upon her tongue, now, burning like liquid flame down her throat.
Where once she had spoken it in reverence and admiration, it felt hollow and empty, now.
Her vision wavers as she kneels down against the rain soaked stones, the rain upon her back growing heavier as she reaches a shaky hand forth – and for a moment, however brief, she feels the weight of expectation, of a title she fears she may never live up to, wash away with the waters that fall from the heavens.
The bruises and blood smeared across their skin are like strokes of a paintbrush, their body the canvas from which such horrid art is created. It makes her ill.
Doubt wavers her composure briefly – her position is already unsteady. She has never been seen as an equal to many of the other Archons. Her own people do not see her as their Archon, but an actor in a grand play that they shall simply toss aside and replace like a broken doll the moment she bores them.
What does she have left to lose?
She reaches out again, her hand settling onto their shoulder and turning them onto their back. She..isn't sure what to do, actually. She's never been particularly physically capable – she tended to avoid fights, even if she oft provoked them – and she was certainly no healer.
Yet what choice does she have but to march on anyway? She is in the heart of the city, it is far more dangerous here then anywhere else..she had little time to make her move.
Fontaine was, after all, a nation founded on the principle of justice. To know an injustice has been made against the most Divine..the entire nation was in a frenzy.
Her eyes dart around nervously, hands clasped tight on their shoulders and her lips drawn into a taut line – someone would notice her absence. One of the Archons would point out her absence in the coordination of the search.
Her options were just as limited as her time – she couldn't just take them out of the city. Security was tight, and as much as she fancied herself an escape artist – Neuvillette could hardly keep her in one place for too long – she doubted she could do the same with the limp body of the imposter in tow.
..The Palais Mermonia it was, then.
Her room had a secret entrance that few knew about, and even fewer would dare to traverse. She just..had to hide them there for a bit and hope Neuvillette wouldn't notice anything different.
Probably.
Still, there was the problem of actually..transporting the body. As grim as it sounded. Her only solace was the fact she didn't have to worry about them catching a cold, at least, and their breaths were still audible, if only barely. So she had to resort to some..unexpected methods.
Seeing the limp form of, well, the imposter – she'd really have to ask for something else to call them when they woke up – stuck in a bubble of hydro wasn't exactly on her bucket list.
Then again, neither was treason.
Well, first time for everything, right?
It wasn't breaking the law if no one else knew about it.
..Neuvillette didn't have to know about it, really. It was fine.
She could, of course, technically try to talk some sense into Neuvillette – he'd listen to her, right? She thought she was pretty close with him..but he was also the one person more obsessed with justice then she was. Such a stickler for the law..so maybe she's breaking a few, it's fine.
But he was also pretty devout, as much as he tried to keep his worship private – with Focalors around, nothing was really secret. Maybe she could get him to settle down long enough to prove it.
..How was she going to prove it?
An exaggerated groan escaped her lips as she led the bubbled imposter – she really wished she didn't have to resort to that, it would be a lot a more awkward to explain then dragging the body around – through the winding streets of Fontaine. She's just glad she's already memorized the entire city like the back of her hand..and a little dramatics went a long way. People listened when the Hydro Archon spoke, and she was suddenly very, very glad for that fact, even if they treated her more like a mascot then a God.
And partially because she, maybe, just a little..stole a few documents detailing the layout and a little personal exploration of her own – but what Neuvillette didn't know couldn't hurt him!
After what felt like hours, though was really no more then half an hour at best, she'd managed to drag herself – soaked to the bone with rain – and the conveniently bubbled imposter up through the secret entrance and into her room.
The perceived safety, as flimsy as it was, was..comforting. Until she heard the rustle of fabric, the clearing of a throat and the pop of a bubble as she, in her surprise, popped it – and then the thud of the imposter hitting the floor.
She felt a bit of regret about that part, at least, wincing.
"Lady Furina." His voice was as sharp and cool as she remembered it always being – like fresh spring water, she'd heard it described. Soothing. It did not feeling very soothing right about now.
She turned sharply on her heel, a forced smile tugging at her lips on reflex, every muscle in her body tensed – she probably looked like a wet cat right about now, soaked with rain, but that was the last thing on her mind.
"Do you mind explaining what, exactly, you did?" Not what you're doing, she notes – what she did. He was mad. Oh, she was really in for a scolding now. She twiddled her thumbs, laughing weakly, though it quickly dies out at the awkward, tense silence.
"Well, you see – it's rather complicated! I can– I can explain." Her attempts to diffuse are met with a raised brow and the sharp tap of his cane. Every single thought is plagued with the urge to run, but the unsteady breathes of the 'imposter' keep her rooted in place. "Well?"
She was sweating bullets, her nails digging into her palm as she scrambled for any excuse that could warrant her not getting hauled off and scolded thoroughly at best – she was coming up empty. How was she supposed to prove that the 'imposter' was very much not what the 'Creator' said they were? Their unconscious body was doing no one any favors, certainly.
"The Creator is lying," She blurts out, immediately regretting her impulsiveness when she feels the sudden weight of his stare – the piercing hues of his eyes that remind her just who is the strongest between them. It is not her, she knows. It never has been. "You can see for yourself! Don't you trust me, Neuvillette–?"
Her voice is cut off by the sharp click of his cane as he strides across the room in only a few steps, his height making her feel like a child about to scolded. She hated it, but she grit her teeth through the exchange. She reminded herself that this was for the sake of the 'imposter' and any affront to her ego was..tolerable.
To her credit, too, she didn't immediately lash out when she saw him poke at their body with his cane, turning them onto their back – she wanted too, though. She considered it, but the thought was quickly shot down when his stare turned back upon her, and she felt frozen in place again, her tongue a heavy weight in her mouth.
Yet she couldn't shake the sudden tenseness to his shoulders, his brows furrowed and a distant look to his eyes. It was..haunting, in a way.
She knows it well, she realizes. The realization and acceptance, the crumbling of every solid foundation you've ever known – leaving you to flounder in the waves, alone and afraid.
The gentleness in which he picks up the limp body surprises her though, his cane set aside. The rain howls like a horrid storm outside, but she cannot focus on anything but the furrow of their brows, the soft noise that escapes their lips.
"I trust that you know that this must stay between us," His voice is soft, like the gentle lap of waves against the shore, as he sets their body down against the bed, his hand lingering against their cheek with something almost like reverence – and if her eyes do not deceive her, affection. "Lady Furina."
She does not hesitate to agree.
"Well– well of course!" She huffs, crossing her arms over her chest and frowning at the feeling of her wet clothes clinging to her skin, a heavy weight that feels like it's dragging her down. "Just what do you take me for?"
He doesn't deign to respond.
It only makes her fume more.
Not that he seems to notice, unbuttoning his heavy outerwear and tossing it on the bed, rolling up his sleeves and focusing on the injured– er..yeah, she really needed a new name for them. Calling them imposter felt wrong.
"So long as you understand, then we will have no problems." She huffs again, pouting and puffing up her cheeks, sitting down on the other end of the bed with only an occasional glance towards him as he worked at peeling away the ragged clothes and examining the injuries marring their skin.
She suddenly felt out of place.
..What was she supposed to be doing?
As if noticing her sudden quietness, Neuvillette sighed, his back turned to her though his attention very much falling upon her. She really hated the feeling like she was being dissected whenever he looked at her. It was unnerving. She doesn't know how anyone else handles it..
"If you are so eager to do something, Lady Furina, then please have something brought up for when our..guest awakens. They will need to recover their strength."
Finally! Something she can do. She perks up, her heels clicking on the floorboards as she darts out like a bullet, unable to stay still for so much as a moment.
Neuvillette, for his part..
Feels an odd sense of serenity as he stares upon the troubled features of the..guest. A peace that lessens the burdens upon his shoulders, the weight of a nation upon his back.
He cannot hear the rain, anymore.
..It must have stopped.
#sagau#genshin sagau#self aware genshin#genshin impact sagau#self aware genshin impact#fic tag#imposter au#focalors#furina#neuvillete#a family can be a dragon an archon and his 300 other children who reverse adopted him#u date him its a package deal sorry#u now have like 300 children g-dspeed#also tagged spoilers on neuvi's part bc its kinda a spoiler??? sort of#also this can be read as platonic or romantic on neuvi's part#can u tell i like focalors btw :)#also gonna be swapping between focalors/furina bc SOMEONE sent me a theory and it sent me spiraling im gonna be ill#u know who u r and ur days r numbered#can be read as romantic between reader & neuvi but only bc i know focalors rubs it in his face she found the actual creator first#anyway can u tell focalors is my fav pt2 i wont shut up abt her its terminal atp#focalors..................#anyway *doesnt post fr months. randomly drops a 2k word fic. leaves and doesnt elaborate*#starts out v serious ends v silly#wrote this in one sitting im gonna go pass out now gn
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i love how shadybugs vibe is "i dont give a fuck" and claw noir is just rabidly insane
#i blame like my mutuals for getting me obsessed with these guys#im looking at you isabugs#sighhhh#probably will rewatch the special again#just cause#reverse paris special#ml paris special#miraculous ladybug#miraculous#miraculous lb#chat noir#ladybug and chat noir#ladybug#shadybug#claw noir#shadybug and claw noir#shadyclaw
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bingles. friend-shaped
#reverse 1999#r1999#re1999#verschnetto#< kinda?#they have disney princesses poster kinda eye contact (none)#sonetto reverse 1999#vertin reverse 1999#schneider reverse 1999#artists on tumblr#furry art#this is my best attempt at furries im kinda proud of this#sadly i’m losing interest in this game and it saddens me#feels like losing a friend#i don’t want to lose interest but how do i control my adhd monkey brain :(#sorry for a bit of vent from me#also i drew them from memory so if anything is out of place - now you know#also only schneider is a kitty!!#vertin is a yorkshire terrier and sonetto is a fox! :D
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For the prompts, tim and/or dick for your reverse robins au? I love your version of that au <3
I don’t think I’ve ever talked about this but Tim was Joker Junior-ed, died killing the Joker, resurrected and League of Shadow-ed, and then broke off to do his own thing until Bruce got lost in time. And even then, he was anonymously pulling strings behind the scenes in the hero/vigilante world, until the finale required his presence.
The last thing Bruce expected was for the universe to be saved from time fuckery by The Red Hood, or for the Red Hood to (impulsively) ask if his old job was open.
#tim: i am choosing to go back to gotham. not because the waynes are there or this is the first time ive spoken to bruce in 5 years#tim: im literally not lonely or need a family or anything. im just graciously offering my skills to the bat squad. they need me badly#tim: after all i was basically just a temp as batmans partner not like. in the family or anything.#meanwhile bruce is about to throw up. what the fuck is that my son tim my son who died tim my son#dc#mine#srpbreplies#batkids age reversal#robin reversal
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the 141 recovering brainwashed!soap but he’s just a shell of his former self; never speaking, never moving without orders. he never even blinks; just stares straight ahead with his unnatural green eyes.
empty.
but ghost can't accept that.
price and gaz can't stand watching ghost torture himself day after day; visiting soap in his cell for hours at a time, trying anything he can think of to bring back his sergeant.
he shows him pictures of the 141 but soap thinks he's being given targets and moves to eliminate them before ghost stops him. he brings him his journal, tries to trigger his innermost thoughts and feelings he never shared with any of them, but after he reads it, soap summarises it like he's giving a mission briefing. impersonal.
cold.
it's late when ghost finally calls it; low and defeated after another long day of being stared at with eyes that don't see him. he isn't thinking when he pulls his mask off and harshly scrubs over his face, grinding his palm into his eye.
"don't worry, johnny; we're still fixin' each other's problems," he promises, little more than a whisper as he tries to summon the energy to leave johnny behind. again.
he pushes himself to his feet, his hand on the door handle when-
"what's my problem?"
ghost freezes, something like grief - something achingly closer to hope - chilling him. he slowly turns and though soap is still starring ahead, there's a faint light in his altered green eyes.
"the mask," he forces out. "take it off."
he knows there's no way to remove the mask - the muzzle - from his sergeant's face. it's too high-tech, even for them; the biometric scanner too advanced for any bypass they know of.
it's just another way he's failed him; bringing him home still bound in their enemy's chains.
soap- jolts; a sharp, almost painful looking flinch jerking his body.
"show my face?" and his voice has changed; no longer the monotone delivery that's haunted ghost's every waking moment.
it's smaller. uncertain. recollection of a memory half-destroyed.
"yes, johnny," he breathes.
soap moves unprompted for the first time since they found him; running his finger along the edge of the muzzle where his skin bulges from the pressure, half-visible scars hidden beneath the harsh metal.
"ugly," he murmurs.
ghost immediately shakes his head, almost stumbling back to the table; haphazardly throwing his mask on it. "quite the opposite," he insists.
it doesn't matter if he has no lower jaw left at all; johnny could never be ugly in his eyes.
agonisingly slowly, soap's eyes shift to the mask. he takes in the balaclava and hard shell skull like for all the times he's looked at it since his rescue, he never truly saw it. his lids fall in less of a blink and more stage curtains closing; slow, heavy, requiring effort and no small amount of strength to open once more
"good... to see you again..." he trails off, his hand shifting up to the top of his shaved head; nails digging unforgivingly into his scalp
"simon," ghost finishes for him; that horrid grieving hope tearing at his heart
soap's fingers flex and a drop of blood trails down his forehead, over the ridge of his nose to catch on the muzzle. "s-simon..."
his nails dig deeper, the drop falling to the table just to be followed by more and ghost aches to stop him but he's terrified to interrupt him. terrified to lose him now when he's so close to something.
soap's bloodied nails scratch down the crown of his head, following the line of his stolen mohawk until they come to rest on the back of the muzzle and ghost's heart drops.
they can’t get it off.
they can't get it off and he doesn't know how to explain that to soap; doesn't know if he can stomach watching soap pull at the monstrosity holding him captive, the inevitable bloodbath as the edges cut into his skin.
"show my face," soap repeats.
"johnny..." ghost begins weakly, reaching out to him but he doesn't know how, doesn't know if he even should-
the muzzle clatters onto the table.
the biometrics they couldn't bypass, the fingerprint they needed that they were so sure belonged to makarov.
it belonged to soap.
how cruel to torture him with freedom he didn't understand he could take; didn't even understand he could want.
just the kind of sick game makarov loves.
ghost doesn't know what's louder; his heart pounding in his ears or the long, uninhibited breath soap takes.
his eyes fall shut as he leans his head back with it, the blood still dripping down his face as he straightens through his exhale. his lower jaw is a mess of scars where he fought against the previous iterations of the muzzle, the corners of his lips cut through and cracked.
but the green in his eyes is duller; that light sparking brighter as blue struggles to break through the glow.
ghost's never seen anything so beautiful.
"good to see you again, johnny."
#cw self harm#self harm#guess who’s still on a brainwashed!soap kick!#the ending of wall-e but make it ghoap#you know when walle resets & eve brings all of his stuff he showed her at the beginning of the movie and its the song that brought him back?#fun fact i dont actually like callbacks all that much#i think they can be cheesy and kind of shoehorned#and unless its done a decent amount of time after the initial thing it can feel rushed and inauthentic#but im all over them when it comes to amnesia aus#its the ‘im with you til the end of the line’ effect#but the reversal of ghost finding so much comfort and safety in his mask#being confronted by soap whos been forced into one against his will to strip him of his autonomy and humanity#it makes me froth at the mouth i swear#muzzles in general make me feral#i am not immune to the dog analogies#coming out of my cage and ive been doing just fine.txt#we’re a team. ghost team#soapghost#ghostsoap#ghoap#simon ghost riley#ghost cod#john soap mactavish#soap cod#cod fic#save post
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#p4#p4g#persona 4#persona 4 golden#hanamura yosuke#yosuke hanamura#souyo#(vomits blood)#okay honestly is there even anything to say about this#yosuke is so easy to tease because he plays along so easily#but also his favourite quality in a person is reliability huh? cool. good to know.#oh hey do you think about how in the reverse scenario when hes on the boys side#where he said his ideal gf was someone he could protect#and when yu says yosuke is his ideal bf yosukes gets embarrassed but is like oh well im not too bad looking! and im pretty reliable!#hahaa wow its almost as if yu and yosuke both want someone that they can rely on and someone that would rely on them in turn#if only they both had someone like that. someone they could both trust beyond measure. someone thats an equal. a partner#also shout out to tumblr user aibyoutachi for convincing me that i should play the other side with yosuke sitting with the girls#because ive always sat in the girls seat not realising that sitting in the boys seat meant yosuke would take your place#oh wait that means theyre the only two that are different hahaha PARALLELS OR WHAT#he's good with his queue
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geralt "i will NEVER deadname my best friend" of rivia
"he will ALWAYS be dandelion to ME"
#also 'including milva in male costume' goes SOOO HARDDD#everyone say thank you regis for citing a dozen precedents to pull that off. the effect of knowing your herstory <3#c: geralt#s: i want to be by your side#geralt is like the reverse situation of a transphobe who 'has known you for 20 years so he can't call you something else now'#it's that he has known dandelion for so long that he can't call him anything else but his STAGE / CHOSEN NAME :')#the 'viscount dandelion' is so funny to me#i can accept that he's a viscount but I DRAW THE LINE at calling him by his birth name#milva: 'you can accept that he's a viscount??'#also it's lost in english but that his stage name and birth name begin with the same letter & thus sound. jaskier... julian...#not the 'chosen name starts with the same letter as the birth name' stereotype. and swag#the witcher books#book: lady of the lake#excerpt#one thousand million years ago in posada:#dandelion: 'don't you want to know my name' | geralt: 'but i already know your name. it's dandelion'#dandelion: 'but it's not my real name. don't you want to know my real and famous name' | geralt: 'not particularly'#geralt has the same relationship to dandelion's birth name and viscount status as dandelion has to kaer morhen 💀#geralt and dandelion are like i don't care who you were back then i cannot comprehend your sad backstory all i care is about who you are no#i think this kind of friendship helped them both slightly detach from their exaggerated levels of perceived self-importance#geralt from his 'woe is me i will never be seen as a normal man' and dandelion from 'im the most interesting man in this tavern'#only SLIGHTLY detach. when they're around each other they temper expectations. but when they're apart it grows back
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Ничего не останется от нас, Нам останемся, в лучшем случае, мы
hi. hello. listen to this song
i have so many thoughts about these two. oh my god. maybe i will write it out some day, but for now drawing it out will do
translation will be under the cut! knowing the words does add to the work so i do recommend reading it. or just enjoy the art <3
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heres the translation, color coded according to how i broke it up for the art. just in casies
first page:
Love is scarier than war
Love strikes more true than steel
second page:
More true, because of your own volition
third page:
You run towards all the winds
Let there be pain and eternal battle
Not atmospheric, not earthly
fourth page:
But definitely with you
caption:
There will be nothing left of us,
we will be left with, in the best case, ourselves
#kunst huli#legend of zelda#botw link#botw zelda#botw zelink#tloz#zelink#totk#botw#i cannot express how proud i am that i actually managed not only to finish this#BUT. to have it look GOOD#painting stuff n making it messy in an appealing way has always been a fucking STRUGGLE for me#n i do think u can see my over-rendering tendencies rear their head up on the last one#and also i guess i should have made the last two pages connect like i did with the rest of them but i think it still works. thematically#the last one is like. the end. a break. the start of a much needed retirement#a breather u might say!#i also think the devs should have let link hug her at the end#he deserves it he thought hed never see her like this again#oh alsooooo since im on a tangent anyway#like many people i was disappointed by the cop-out of just giving link his arm back at the end of totk#and i still think it would be cool if he didnt#(or if he kept the magic hand. just imagine how thatll help with all the restoration work dlkfgjdfkgjdfkg)#BUT anyway. i thought about it. n i have a theory about what tf did they do at the end to get not only zelda but his arm back#the fucking time powers!!! what if they just reversed time on them...........#much to thunk about. anyway#hope u enjoy <3#now i can go finish phantom hourglass#god i hate having to go back to the temple of the ocean king tho. its like dishonored but u cant go up OR knock those guys out
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live laugh kitty baunaa
direct aftermath /silly
after-a-while aftermath /silly
#still super hype about her upcoming skin sorry for the surge of kb art im truly beyond saving whatsoever#reverse 1999#reverse 1999 fanart#i think this deserves the#mochart#but also#mochadoodles#since there is both#Kaalaa Baunaa#Medicine Pocket#Mesmer Jr#Pavia#nblw#heh.#nblw art#furry#furry art#tiger furry#medpoc girlkissing collection#deeply implied theres more than girlkissing going on pray for their speedy rcovery#daily reminder i kin medpoc thank you theyre like a self insert to me#KaalaaPocket#MediBaunaa#MediKaal
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