#deus' scribbles

[minjeochi]

again. tw: sh.

You looked like a mess. You were always a mess. Hell, have you ever been truly put together? Complete? Whole? That forged mask you've strapped to your face is just that—a mask. A lie. You know the truth. You always have. Do you really think your silly little fantasies of hope will save you? That if you bang your fist relentlessly against the door of fate, it'll finally crack open and welcome you? How pathetic.

"But you're trying your best," your reddened eyes begged. Your damp eyelashes agreed, curled up and tucked underneath your eyes' waterlines as you lifted your head. "Please don't. Not again." But you scoffed at the reflection of your trembling pupils, the shaky amber irking you. Were they always this murky? And your eyebags, Jesus, the deep purple indents grossed you out. If you could rip them off of your face, you would. And your nose too. And your lips too. And your chin. Your eyes. Your eyebrows. Your cheeks. Your forehead. Your ears. Fuck, you felt a new stream streaking your cheeks again. They just kept coming, huh?

But you had enough of your stupid crying ritual. What good did your tears bring anyway? Now your eyes were stinging and your cheeks were glowing red. You looked like a clown. A little too fitting, wasn't it? Don't you fucking lie to yourself. You know it won't work now, not when those dams of self control were already creaking at the forefront of your mind. Your eyes hardened as you sat up suddenly, a new sense of purpose filling you faster than the bathroom tap filling up the sink. "But you've been doing better," your legs twitched in defiance, refusing to stand up at first, your feet planted to the carpet and held down by an invisible force begging you to stay still. "Please don't. Not again."

Ha, like that would stop you. You knew better than to feed yourself that stupid delusion anyway. Sure, you had been doing better—but you weren't the best. You weren't doing enough. You weren't enough. You knew your worth. Your real worth. Everyone knew it too, even if they didn't say it aloud. Hell, they barely kept it subtle with their whispering and snickers behind your head. God, you're so embarrassing. Is it truly surprising that no one wants you? Look at you, chasing the warmth of a star while your freezing hands lay in olden frost built up over the years. Permafrost. You will always be what you are right now—frozen, all year round, eternally. Don't you dare thaw out and pollute the atmosphere. You do enough of that already. You deserved to be buried, thrust deep into the Earth's crust, hidden away mercilessly.

Before you knew it, your hands had yanked the washroom cabinet open with so much force that the hinges squeaked in protest. You cursed at the whiny golden shits, berating them for their noise. But they were just like you, weren't they? Whining 24/7, stuck in place, a nuisance? Luckily, they were replaceable. Just like you. Haven't had enough self dehumanizing yet? Don't worry, the mirror right above the sink had your back, reminding you of the disgusting monster you were. Hair disheveled. Eyes red and swollen. Hands trembling. Breathing heavy. 'Pretty' your ass.

You had to take accountability for all the harm you've caused with your existence. Every word you uttered. Every action you committed. Every breath you took. They were all violations to everyone's peace, stirring the red beast of anger within so many and provoking the green beast of disgust within far more. Pity. Annoyance. Rage. It was your fault. It was always your fucking fault. Was there anything you ever did without hurting someone in the process? Don't try to fucking deny it. You knew it. They knew it. So did that shiny metal, its sharp and jagged edge glinting as you hovered it above your flesh. "But you've come so far already," your fingers twitched in defiance, refusing to move. "Please don't. Not again." And for a second, you actually paused.

Was this worth it? Did you really deserve it? Was this all you amount to? Assassinating yourself coldly with your words? Carving holes into your own brain with your bare hands? Tearing your heart apart into tiny pieces that continued to twitch and ache for your kindness?

"Yes." You said. And like a feather finally ending its pursuit from the tree and landing on the earthy soil, the blade finally found your skin. One. Two. Three. Four. Eight. Fifteen. Twenty six.

Congratulations. You did it again.

- July 15, 2024, 8:36 PM

[dextraicarus1994]

It's been a while since I drew in traditional...

Taking a little break from digital art and returning a bit with traditional art (I am doing just scribbles, no very detailed stuff). A little doodle of another character that I used to like when I was in the Deus Ex franchise some years ago. Yeah, I talk about Adam Jensen. 🟨⬛🟨⬛🟨⬛🟨⬛🟨⬛🟨⬛🟨⬛🟨⬛🟨⬛🟨⬛🟨

[memeticallyengineered]

space vermin.

[haptronym]

Okay, I’ve been quietly enjoying MHA as it finished up. The fixation has waned and I’m generally not obsessed enough anymore to put the effort into making more fanworks. But it seems like I have a few beehives left to kick before I move on. On this episode: I got set off by this industrial-level optimism and am going to rant about misleading story shortcuts.

(Spoilers for the end of the manga.)

There's a very common phenomenon that crops up in stories everywhere. A character goes though an experience obviously meant to Teach A Profound Lesson. The character gives a wrenching speech about how they're so changed now. And then... they go right back to doing the exact same shit they were doing before. The story writes "THEY'RE DIFFERENT NOW! DOESN'T THIS FEEL SATISFYING?" on the character's forehead in big block letters, but doesn't bother to follow through. It just hopes that people will do exactly what that post does: i.e. not think very hard and pretend it’s what actually happened.

MHA does this a lot. And Izuku and All Might are both poster children for this phenomenon.

The post I linked at the top is not an example of amazing character development. It is extremely awkward proof that neither of these main characters have meaningfully changed at all. I’m also going to go on a brief tangent and argue that their behavior has absolutely nothing to do with quirklessness because the narrative itself has not given a flying fuck about quirklessness since chapter 1.

Let's start with Izuku. At the beginning of the series, his greatest dream was to be a hero. But he did nothing to achieve it. He muttered and he scribbled in a few notebooks. No training, no real effort. And then he was ready to just give up completely after talking with All Might. All Might had to chase him down and dump a miracle intervention into his lap before he finally put forth any real effort.

And at the end of the series, once Izuku lost the last of his embers, he... apparently gave up again, became a schoolteacher, and spent his days spouting cope so lame that even other teachers didn’t believe it. It seems obvious he was not truly satisfied, but we weren’t told he did anything to change his fate. He just sat around complacently, for eight years, until All Might once again swooped down and shoved a second Deus ex Machina into his hands.

Oh, and did he have a whole arc about how he shouldn’t run off alone and try to do everything himself? He should rely on the help of his friends? That’s cute. Well, anyway, he’s going to run off alone for his final fight until his friends chase him down, again.

Contrast how Izuku learned to be not so reliant on All Might's guidance. That was very cool, and most importantly, it had consequences - it got him to learn kicky kick instead of punchy punch and triggered many of the events of the Dark Hero arc. But man, it was a pretty minor epiphany for a main character carrying an entire series on his back.

I like Izuku! He's a great character. I think it's cool and realistic that he defies the typical gung-ho overcome-every-obstacle Shonen stereotype. But it’s clear he didn’t change very much over the course of the series.

And All Might? Man.

All Might sees and learns a lot of things during the story. Many of his assumptions are, seemingly, challenged. But in his badass final fight, does he show any indication that he's learned anything new over the course of the series? Any proof that he's changed as a person? Anything at all? He runs off to fight alone, like he always has. He (apparently) doesn't even tell anyone he had the suit up his sleeve! So much for working together and sharing burdens with others. "I thought your quirks were cool so I copied them for my secret robot suit lol" hardly seems like a meaningful act of connecting with those around him. And has he learned anything from watching Izuku's heartbreaking unnecessary self-sacrifice? Not according to his suicide-bomb attempt. He’s only saved by the bad guy's overpowering urge to monologue.

"But but but he learned that you can still be a hero despite being quirkless!!!" Here's the problem: All Might never says Izuku can't be a hero without a quirk. Here's what he actually says:

What does he give Izuku at the beginning of the series? Power. What does he give Izuku at the end of the series? Power, after letting Izuku stew for eight whole years. (What a swell dude. What a dad!) It is the exact same scenario.

Yes, at the beginning, he used the shorthand of quirklessness = no power, and by the end, he's eager to hand out Iron Man suits. Believe me, I wish this change happened because he struggled with his deep-seated feelings of inferiority due to his latent quirklessness and finally learned that even the quirkless are inherently Worthy and Valid. But the way the story handled it, this "character development" boils down to "Oh, right, my buddy's kid can make rad support items!"

I've pointed out before that quirklessness showed up in chapter 1 as a cool story hook and then went out for cigarettes and never returned. We learn all about heteromorph discrimination but nothing about quirkless people, even in the movie about bad guys trying to eradicate all quirks! All the story's main conflicts are about strong vs. weak quirks, "good" vs. "bad" quirks... not quirks vs. non-quirks. 

It doesn't matter to the characters either, to a truly bizarre degree. It gets dropped into Aoyama’s backstory to explain why AFO had power over him, but that’s about it. He even said it didn’t bother him as much as it bothered his obsessed-with-status parents. When Mirio is rendered quirkless... he might as well have torn his ACL. No existential grappling, no consoling speeches from Izuku or All Might, nothing besides Izuku briefly overthinking things and wanting to play quirk-hot-potato. And then Eri presses the undo button and nobody speaks about the issue again.

You'd think it would be a huge deal for born-quirkless Izuku and All Might. But they never talk about it. They never even think about it! They discuss it together for an entire two pages during the sports festival. It makes a surprise appearance in a single sentence in a single flashback of All Might's (which doesn't even make much sense... he says quirklessness means he "has no role"... after impressing Nana with the clear and detailed role he's invented for himself).

Its most important function is as a convoluted, unnecessary plot device explaining why Izuku and All Might were the most bestest OFA holders. Aside from the too-many-quirks-breaks-the-OFA-holder plot device, they could both have been born with unimpressive quirks and pretty much nothing would change about them, fundamentally, as people.

Even in the very last chapter, the part that's clearly reenacting the events of chapter 1... Izuku's mini-me symbolic stand-in is not a quirkless kid. He's just a kid with a weak quirk. You know, like 9/10 of Izuku's middle school class. The story doesn't even want to touch quirklessness in the callback to the scene where it mattered most! It treats it like an embarrassing promise it blurted out while blackout drunk that it wants to forget ever happened.

All Might still thinks of heroism in largely the same way. There are technically changes, but they’re all surface-level. He doesn’t go on about the ways you can be a hero by, say, using your huge influence and monetary resources for good. No, you’ve gotta have power. It could have been poignant that he expanded his definition of “power” from “quirk” to “cool technogadget,” but the story didn’t explore that. Izuku pays some lip service to the idea of alternate versions of heroism in the last chapter, but as soon as he gets the opportunity, he ditches his school job to go do real hero work. 

If anything, All Might’s biggest character development comes from understanding that his legacy will live on. His dream won’t die with him. The many lights of his students now burn bright with his inspiration and will see his work continued. 

But this realization is not tied to his quirklessness, and does not really affect his definition of heroism. And once again... no concrete evidence of change. Partially because the ending rushes past like a runaway freight train, but still.

This issue isn’t exclusive to All Might and Izuku. I’ve seen a lot of criticism thrown at MHA as a whole because this pattern has repeated over and over and over everywhere. Lots of poignant speeches and gripping scenes, and then the world and the characters just traipse on as if nothing happened.

After a lifetime of watching cartoons... I find it hard to get upset when serialized comics do things like this. It’s a bit like getting upset at episodic cartoons for resetting to the status quo every episode, or dinging a children's show for oversimplifying good and evil (MHA fandom: take note of this, too). Sure, there are story formats, like novels, that ought to have a well-thought-out, meaningful progression from start to finish. But that is overwhelmingly not what you’re going to get with stuff like Shonen Jump stories, where authors have to sacrifice story integrity for a million different reasons, like merch tie-ins or fluctuating character popularity or trying to ensure a high view count so they don’t get dropped. (Hi, eighteen billion explosion cliffhangers! You’re still stupid!) It is really, really hard to make a coherent story under conditions like these. I want to believe that everyone is trying their best.

But I still think it’s very important to at least be aware when this attempted switcheroo is happening. We should not let ourselves get fooled when someone goes "Yep! Lesson learned!" We need to remember that actions speak louder than words.

It's almost inevitable that certain genres, like this one, are going to take these shortcuts. It's a bit pointless to spike one's blood pressure getting mad about it. But it's still always important to pay attention. And then go write nice fanfic where things have actually changed.

[megu-meow]

fan behaviour - megumi fushiguro

megumi x fem. reader

Request: heyy, could you do an imagine where megumi is a fanboy of fem!reader (which is an idol) and they meet at a fanmeeting?? thank you <;33

Megumi never understood people's obsession with idols. He thought Todo was pathetic for being so into Takada, he believed it was impossible to be so addicted to someone he never met in real life. That's until he saw a video of you on his for-you page, a snippet from a morning talk show, where you kept talking about geopolitics and the hardships you faced as an idol.

He never cared about looks, but he had to admit you were a sight for sore eyes. However, he quickly got obsessed with your intelligence, the way you carried yourself and the way you talked to others. Your looks were just a bonus, Megumi was a fan of your mind. Or at least the part of your mind he got to know through the screen of his phone.

The moment he found out that you were hosting a meet and greet mere minutes away from Jujutsu High he didn't hesitate to buy himself a ticket. He also kept it a secret, knowing that his friends and Gojo would keep making fun of him until the end of his days. The morning of the event he tried to make his unruly hair a bit nicer, but he didn't succeed, despite the amount of product he put in it. He decided he looked okay, he kept reassuring himself, that he was just one of the thousands of guys simping for you, there was no way you were going to notice him anyway. But he was so wrong...

As soon as he stepped up to you, he politely shook your hand as he greeted you shyly. You took in his appearance, you found his messy hair adorable and the green of his eyes mesmerising. He seemed closed off, but nice at the same time and he was holding a book out for you to take. Usually guys would ask you to do one of your iconic lines and gestures, but this mysterious boy handed you a copy of Homo Deus by Yuval Noah Harari, one of your favorite writers, a book you've been trying to get your hands on for months now.

That night, after the event you sat down opening the book, reading it carefully, mesmerised by the boy's annotations, his handwriting neat and pretty. You spend the next couple of days with your eyes glued to the pages, the boy's comments and thoughts lingering through your brain. Upon finishing the book, you feel a sudden pang of sadness in your heart. It felt like you knew him for years, his snarky remarks and witty humour making you chuckle at random times, as you keep remembering them through moments of your day.

After a few days of trying to find him on social media, thinking that maybe he took some photos of the event and tagged you in them, you have no luck finding him. So you ask your manager if it's possible to track someone down from the meet and greet, but their answer is a hard no. You begin to give up, so you pick up the book once again, flipping through the pages with a hint of sadness in your eyes. In that moment a small piece of paper falls out from in-between the pages and you pick it up quickly. There is the name Fushiguro Megumi and a phone number scribbled on it in the same neat handwriting as the annotations in the book. You don't hesitate to pick up your phone to text the number.

Megumi is in the middle of exorcising a nasty curse when his phone chimes, but he ignores it thinking it is Gojo urging him to finish his job. So he is surprised to see the message from an unknown number and he opens it curiously.

"Thank you for the book, it was lovely to get to know you through your notes. ☺️"

His heart beats out of his chest as soon as he puts the pieces together, realising that it was you who sent the message. So he texts you back instantly, fuzziness taking over him from the though of you liking his snarky remarks. So he keeps texting you over the next couple of days, getting to know you better. Your favorite color, your favorite food and everything between those lines.

After a week of constant texting he asks you out for coffee and you quickly agree waiting impatiently until the moment you get to see him again. Your first date is magical, he is polite, witty and shy at times, but you know he's intelligent and you laugh at his snarky remarks. He swears your giggles and chuckles are adorable, sounds he wants to hear every day for the rest of his life. He walks you home that night, kissing your cheeks as a form of goodbye and he doesn't leave until you promise him that you will go out with him again. However, it doesn't take long for him to convince you, you agree straight away. That night you both fall asleep in your respective beds with warmth and fuzziness in your hearts.

[22ndnervousbreakdown]

Ok, I watched the whole GO s2, so. Spoilers (and my frustration) below.

You can judge me all you want but I'm gonna be honest here, it literally shouldn't have existed and I mean it. I wasn't keen on the idea of s2 from the very beginning and tried to prepare for the worst but even I didn't imagined it would be THIS. I'm so mad now.

It's straight up fanfiction. Bad fanfiction. I don't know what possessed Neil to write this, especially since he doesn't know if the s3 will ever be approved. Although, ok, I probably do know because this thing is just straight up bait for people to ask for s3. But like. I didn't think Neil could be THAT kind of person?? That kind of author??

And like IT'S NOT EVEN JUST THE ENDING it's the whole fucking season that's bad. The plot is nowhere near the quality of the s1 and the book, it's just moderately okay at the very most, if you don't count the ending. If you count the ending, it's basically like if a fanfiction author didn't know how to end their fic, so they just scribbled an "open" final and made it sad to play on ppl's emotions and get comments. Honestly. The only difference is that a fanfiction author would probably do that to avoid writing more of that fic, and here it's made like that to make people want s3 all the more and do everything in their power to convince Amazon to greenlight it. WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK????

I don't even think I want there to be s3 now tbh. It would probably have a more sufficient ending (though, would it? I wouldn't be so sure now), but I don't think it would be better quality, and it certainly wouldn't erase the disaster s2 turned out to be. What I want the most is probably to forget this whole thing happened, erase it out of the existence (like they wanted to do with Aziraphale, get it? Oh my god what an original and interesting plot device that was, I never saw anything quite like that, and when it was resolved by deus ex machina aka metatron? Such a clever move, just amazing), but it's not possible sadly, so idk. Maybe we as a fandom can just pretend it never happened and act like there was no s2, idk. That's what I might try to do, maybe spare a couple of good scenes or nice shots, but ignore the rest of it. What do you think? The mysterious s2 that never came out and we only got some extra scenes and maybe some new ideas for our artworks? Wait, what was that I was talking about for so long?

[tenebrare]

Deus Ex- Sarif's attack dog (revisited) + Post about how and why this revisit came to be aka some self-reflect (warning: long, ... OMG too long)

During Inktober2022, when I was forced to (as its part of the challenge) post daily, in some point I took a look of my 2022 postings in general. I found that I have taken my blogs title "Sketchbook and doodles" too literal. Almost all my works posted were... are... 1-2 day quick scribbles and clearly unfinished. Except 3. 2 of which were done in 2021 and still fit the 1-2 day filling and one work which I had done while recovering serious health related issue and was forced to focus only on recovery and I kept working on a singular piece the time without thinking about completing the piece itself (as my goal was just to fill the time I was awake and give my brain something else than health to think about) nor being stressed by war, bills, work. And out of those 3 remaining works that last is only one I wouldn’t know how to change, when I open its original file now. Also the other remotely almost passable as closer to complete works were done before war and illness. Why I have rushed like this – where was I hurrying to? Did I believe I improve better if I do more? Yet my best fan-work of 2022 is one I did, when I was physically so weak I was barely able to hold any objects like my pen (even eating and holding a spoon exhausted me to the point I slept hours afterwards), but just invested more time on doing something. Inktober was like a sum of the same – out of the 31 works I did, the best one in my opinion is the one I failed at original day and did bit by bit on other remaining days. Where am I running to? I should sit the f*** down. 2022 is trying to tell me something and I should listen. It 1st broke my graphics card few days in. Started a war close enough month after. Got me ill and almost killed me next month after that and then heatwaved me to heat-sickness soon as I started to do some recovery few months down. Canceled all my long planned events and activities for august and changed what-and-how in September. Only thing it did not cancel was me seeing my favorite band in July (in fact ‘universe’ in particular delayed the gig to be in 2022 from 2020). Maybe by November I should take the darn hint? … I finally sat down after Inktober. Meditated a few days, sitting back against almost ice cold-radiator in a 12C room (the machinery in basement shut itself off again and it was 12C outside as well). So I went back and took one the unfinished works and gave myself no time limits - „It is done, when it is done.” I told myself - “I am not running anywhere, no one gave me deadline. I do this because I love doing stuff like this. Do it like you just hired yourself and want your moneys worth. And above all – have fun. I must have fun again, like when I was 2 and scribbled believing I am greatest painter in the world and for my family I was.” Uh, and the widget in the basement started working after I had found calm in self as well worked on this piece a few days and is stable 21C now. If I’d believe in paranormal, I’d say this house is alive and is catching up my moods. But thanks, house, for the widget being back online. The gas company found no fault in the widget and its systems. Not in spring, when it stopped working 1st time after being just installed, nor this falls … Well… in this region we believe that old houses have their own spirits and personalities after all. Here’s “Sarif’s Attack Dog” as I wanted it to be 8 months ago. Just spent 5 times more time on it. Viewer, who wants, does find flaws in it and could argue about ‘its done, when its done’ part, but it is not about if someone else can do it better, likes it or does not like it or any other 100 problems, but its about how I wanted it to look-like in given moment and gave myself time to do it. Maybe it should be my 2023 years resolution? “Sit the f-down and take my sweet time on all things I do – including fan-art?” Provided 2023 doesn’t try to kill me again, like 2022 did… tehehe? PS! That lone fully completed 2022 fan-art of mine was Francis Pritchard hacking Adams computer in Prague

[aketan]

Ah, the memories~ Deus Art Party was the first art party I’ve ever participated in, and it was very cozy and fun.. glad I’ve found these scribbles again!

[enjomo-arch]

(  unprompted  :  deuce )    //    ♠   @taiixuan

but oh, look at him, locks of pale azures spiraling in wavelike motions across breezes blessing spadille's sails as if to shame indeed that cruel mothersea they were meant to cross and explore and note down in each tribulation and adventure by her and lands alike were thrown at them and caught oh so fiercely, westward direction still maintained —as precious as thousand letters saved from bottomless oblivion and just as otherworldly with his gaze lost across horizons and hands always oh so tattered in blots of ink and wordlike inscriptions, mementos to be kept in memory's embrace until he'd usually manage to get better means at hand to jot them down as efficiently, mumbling words and tunes in tumbling of fingers across wooden rail matching scribbling motions and pursed lips still holding plush sheen of where freshwater dared kissing him and yet so adamant in his search of a syllable more, another lost word. a sight indeed meant for eyes of baterilla's firefly and those eyes alone.

calmness  before  a  storm.  that's  what  one  could  call  it,  when  the  sea  that  was  the  mother  of  them  all  rocked  the  ship  gently  on  her  waves  like  a  child  in  her  embrace.  the  spadille's  sails  to  the  rhythm  of  the  wind  hummed  with  material  flopping  quietly  as  they  slowly  continued  the  endless  journey.  being  free  from  the  clue  of  the  navy  on  their  tails  or  the  invasion  of  bounty  hunters  as  the  pirate  prince's  name  shone  like  the  first  star  in  the  sky.  only  they  could  gloat  at  the  sight  of  the  sun  slowly  going  to  sleep  over  the  horizon  as  did  the  rest  of  the  crew  resting  in  their  cabins.  only  mihal  would  stay  awake  in  the  library  until  late,  but  he  was  rarely  able  to  honor  the  captain  with  his  attendance,  only  when  necessary.  this  left  the  scribe  of  the  spades  alone,  in  presence  of  his  ever  burning  captain.  

although  the  view  of  the  seascape  was  as  enthralling  as  ever  during  the  long  evenings,  only  one  sight  could  fight  the  beauty  of  the  sea  mother  in  the  brown  eyes  but  his  lips  now  savored  the  taste  of  stories  still  lingering  over  his  first  mate's  lips  under  the  cover  of  his  eyelids  blocking  the  sight.  a  hand  rested  upon  the  cheek  to  guide  his  head  closer  and  lips  moving  as  if  they  were  gnawing  out  every  word  that  had  yet  to  be  transferred  to  the  paper  with  a  pen,  and  the  ink  dried  on  his  fingers  did  not  leave  prints  on  the  pages ��as  they  were  flipped  to  soon  filled  with  words.  now,  they  didn't  need  them.  the  only  thing  that  spoke  for  them  was  his  mouth  so  much  hungry  with  tongue  gently  brushing  over  the  bottom  of  deuce's  lip.  a  small  smack  like  the  fire  fist  would  savour  the  best  taste  of  his  life,  leaving  golden  over  his  lip  and  silver  on  his  tongue.  

only  then  did  his  brown  irises  dart  to  look  at  the  scribe  with  a  small  flame  burning,  swirling  within  the  captain's  orbs.  his  eyebrows  knitted  upwards,  pleading  with  a  warm  smile  blossoming  over  the  freckled  darling's  cheeks.  his  heart  beating  hammer  against  his  chest  as  if  to  shatter  his  bones  and  leap  straight  into  the  decue's  hands  at  any  moment.  he  leaned  forward,  resting  his  forehead  against  the  man's  own  with  a  quiet  breathy  chuckle.  the  tip  of  his  thumb  softly  brushing  across  the  kiss  swollen  bottom  lip. 

❝  gonna  tell  me  another  story,  deu  ?  ❞

[mimithealpaca]

chapter x - the singing bells (redraw of a picture from the vault)

creating has been very difficult for the past two months. i'm forcing things to chug along, but i can feel it in my brain. sometimes when i get like this, i revisit older pieces and redraw them. i've been trying to be even more intentional with the redraws though--what about the original picture can i improve on? what from the original is worth keeping and expanding on?

in this case, as you see in the next slide, i think the biggest improvement i made was composition. the original pic was a doodle of OCs a childhood bestie and i made as kids (although i sorta took them when we grew up and went into the sunset with them XDDD). that old pic was drawn in mspaint in 2009 (15 years ago!) so i obviously wasn't thinking about composition or anything. i think at best, i was trying to mimicry anime posters/illustrations i had seen of character faces just collaged on top of each other…

for my redraw, i essentially did the same, but i wanted the characters to be more grounded in reality. (and again, i wanted the bell tower to be more of the focal point.) i also drew on a bit of hagio moto (i don't think it's visible here at all) or just the aesthetic of older shoujo manga, hence the loss of color.

what i like about this scribble is how i managed to still translate the positioning of the characters' faces. see how the girl on the leftmost in the original picture is looking at the girl with tears in her eyes in the middle? i made it more obvious this time in the redraw, turning her head in her direction. in retrospect, maybe i could've played with her hair or the lighting on the crying girl who now turned badass-showing-midriff so there would be some leading lines to dress girl but alas.

speaking of which, i'm so glad i made her more badass. i won't get into the lore, but these are all actually the same character, just at different points in their lives/timelines. and… well, my current iteration of the lore for these characters is that leftmost girl has an identity crisis that definitely would not have her wearing some boring ass pink tank top as an adult.

anyway, the title of the arc these characters showed up in was called "silver singing bells" but like, let me tell you, as the god of their world. THERE ARE NO SINGING BELLS. HELL, THE DEUS EX MACHINA THAT ALLOWS TIME FUCKERY TO HAPPEN ARE NECKLACES. YOUNG ME JUST RANDOMLY PICKED WORDS THEY THOUGHT SOUNDED KINDA COOL AND SAID "YEAH!" but. a homage is a homage. young me drew a lot, even when they were down in the dumps, which is something i haven't even been able to do so… kudos to them, yeah? and so, i kept the singing bells for the fake chapter title at least lol

[minjeochi]

i hate you.

I hate you like an extra puzzle piece. You can jam me into that tiny space all you want, fold the edges of my outline until I'm a crippled piece of waste—but I'll never fit your ugly mosaic.

I hate you like a plant in a barren land. No matter how many resources you try to bribe me with, whether that be your forced warmness or your desperate attempts to water me until my roots reach out, I will not grow or blossom for you. Withering away is far more merciful than being subjected to your greed.

I hate you like a stubborn nail in the wall. Even if you used every single ounce of your power to slam the head of that deceitful hammer onto me, I'll only scratch the untouched concrete. I won't be the one to hang around for you, nor will I pin up your lies for display.

I hate you like a pencil graphite breaking. I'll never stay, always breaking off and dragging myself away. You'll never get all of me, no matter how much you try to shave me down and drag me out. I'll always find a way to escape you, even if it means snapping myself in half before you do. I'm weak? Of course—you've pressured me enough that when I finally unravel, I'm already broken up inside. I wonder why.

I hate you like an untucked bedsheet corner. You can tug me tirelessly until I'm a ruffled mess, leaving obvious imprints of your fingers with every new wrinkle you create out of my skin, but I won't let you tuck me away again. You can try to shove me underneath your heavy mattress of guilt until I'm choked up and gasping for air, but I'll always find a way to wriggle out, hanging over the bedside in quiet and broken defiance.

I hate you. I really hate you. I'll never stop hating you. But goddamn it, I wish I didn't love you too.

- July 8, 2024, 10:32 AM

[bleuhisteria]

Deus Ex Machina|| Aizawa x Reader Chapter 7

Where quirks, inventions, ideas and bodies collide.

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I arrived at Hizashi's classroom, gently knocking on the door and introducing myself to the teacher as I handed over the required form. Hizashi and Shirakumo had not yet returned from lunch, but their classmates were already present, their curious gazes making me a bit nervous. Nonetheless, I managed to muster a smile and politely waved to everyone, while also taking mental note of the information about their quirks that I observed.

As I left the classroom and headed back to my own, a realization struck me. It would be wise to carry a notepad with me at all times. I should jot down the quirks I managed to catch a glimpse of, as it could provide valuable leverage for Aizawa and me during the upcoming sports festival.

Soon, my own class began, and Haruki passed me a note, requesting to see my notebook again sometime. I agreed, and throughout the class, I intermittently scribbled game plans for the festival in my notebook. It crossed my mind that I should watch videos on the computer to get a sense of previous festivals, although I doubted if audience members were allowed to record them. Nevertheless, I'm confident that I could find someone who had managed to sneak in a camera at some point in time.

I had my notepad out, diligently jotting down the necessary preparations for the sports festival while Haruki observed my notebook. After class, we both decided it was time to head home, as the development studio was crowded with too many students at the moment.

"I love this model! I want to include it in my equipment for the sports fest! Is that okay with you, (Y/N)?" she asked eagerly, presenting me with an old version of bouncy boots.

Panicking slightly, I shook my head. "Wh-while it may seem great on paper, but trust me, I've actually tried it out, and it doesn't work the way you'd expect it to. It's not as functional as it appears." Taking the notebook from Haruki's hands, I flipped to a different page.

"Instead, try this version. It's a more improved one... although I haven't tested it yet. There are some key details that could help you when developing bouncy boots 2.0." I stated, pulling out a piece of paper tucked between the end pages of my notebook and handing it to Haruki.

The paper contained all the necessary details to enhance the device she desired. Since I had no intention of using it myself, she might as well benefit from it.

"Are you sure, (Y/N)? Don't you want to use this for yourself?" she asked, concern evident in her voice.

I nodded. "Yeah, don't worry. I have other plans in mind. I'm going to use a few different things." My reassurance seemed to give her enough courage to take the paper from my hand.

"Thanks!" she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling as she held it up, examining it with a satisfied smile.

We continued walking towards the gate, our conversation fading into a comfortable silence.

__

What am I even doing here?

Aizawa stood by the gate, a sense of ennui permeating his being. He couldn't help but question his presence in this situation. What was he doing here? Students passed by him, their chatter and footsteps blending into a dull background noise. He waited impatiently for the person he had agreed to meet, his thoughts swirling with a mix of curiosity and skepticism.

He had to admit, (Y/N) had caught him off guard with her proposition of getting him into the hero course. It wasn't something he had anticipated, and the fact that she had a plan only added to his intrigue. However, a flicker of caution tinged his anticipation.

If it's something stupid I'm leaving.

Lost in his musings, Aizawa's attention snapped back to reality as a figure with familiar (H/C) hair caught his eye. His gaze followed the person beside (Y/N), a presence that immediately put him on guard. As their eyes met, (Y/N)'s ongoing conversation abruptly halted, and her face lit up with a radiant smile at the sight of him.

__

I turned my head and saw Aizawa standing at the gate. The conversation I was having with Haruki quickly faded into the background as excitement surged through me. I approached him with a beaming smile, genuinely surprised and grateful that he had shown up instead of dismissing my invitation.

"Hey, you actually came!" I greeted him warmly, my voice filled with joy and surprise. I truly appreciated that he had given my idea some consideration instead of outright ignoring it.

Aizawa scratched his head, his gaze averting elsewhere as he replied, "I wanted to hear your plan..."

Haruki caught up to us, her voice laced with curiosity as she asked, "(Y/N), who's this?"

"This is Aizawa," I introduced him, my words laced with gratitude. I couldn't help but feel indebted to him.

Aizawa looked away, seemingly embarrassed. I decided to ease off and not overwhelm him. "Anyway," I quickly redirected the conversation, hoping to shift the focus. "Let's part ways here. I need to talk to Aizawa about something."

I had to get Haruki out of the conversation somehow, I didn't want to let her know what I was planning, it'd be disadvantageous to me if she did the same thing.

Haruki gave me a mischievous look, raising an eyebrow and smirking. "Alright~ I get it. I won't get in the way of your plans~" she playfully teased.

Perplexed by Haruki's implication, I furrowed my brow, but before I could inquire further, she was already walking away, humming contentedly to herself.

__

God, that was embarrassing. How can someone be so clueless? Aizawa thought to himself, unable to bear the situation any longer. Haruki's implications seemed to completely fly over (Y/N)'s head, leaving Aizawa feeling a mix of frustration and second-hand embarrassment.

"Let's get going. I-I'll explain on the way," (Y/N) said nervously, starting to walk. She pulled the bag strap on her shoulder, signaling Aizawa to follow her lead.

Nodding silently, Aizawa fell in step behind (Y/N), prepared to hear what she had in mind.

She took a deep breath before she began, "Based on my knowledge from previous sports festivals, the first phase is always an individual competition, the second is some sort of team battle, and the third is a one-on-one match to determine the winner," she explained, looking at Aizawa with one finger raised. 

"While I can't help during the first phase, I'll be able to assist during the second and third phases with permission from the teachers. What I want is to develop a support item that can complement your quirk, something that can give you an advantage in battle."

She paused for a moment, her expression turning serious. "This should be a showcase of your skill rather than relying solely on your quirk, just like mine. If you shine, I shine. Understand?" (Y/N) asked, pointing at him and then herself, a smile playing on her lips.

Aizawa was taken aback by her sudden confidence. It was a stark contrast to her usual demeanor, showing just how serious she was about her goal. And she was doing it for his sake as well.

"What kind of equipment are you planning to give me?" Aizawa asked, a valid question considering he knew nothing about (Y/N)'s abilities. All he knew was that she had shown selflessness and appeared physically weak during the previous exam, only scoring five points.

With a smile, (Y/N) raised a finger. "Something that will suit you," she stated, deliberately leaving it vague. Then she shifted the focus of the conversation. "I want to learn more about you, about your body's capabilities and your limits. To do that, I need to analyze you up close. So, train with me," she proposed.

"When?" Aizawa asked, wanting to set a time for their training.

"Tomorrow, at my house. My dad has a spacious testing area for his gear. We can train there," she replied, pulling out a notepad from her pocket.

A glimpse of the notepad revealed a wall of text labeled 'SPORTS FEST GAME PLAN.' Aizawa couldn't help but wonder just how much planning she had done.

Leaving him astounded, (Y/N) handed him a torn piece of paper with her address on it.

(Y/N) handed him the piece of paper with her address, her words lingering in the air. "Here, since tomorrow is the weekend, we have time to test and train together right away. You can come around early morning if that works for you. I'm usually up pretty early," she said, her anticipation palpable as she waited for his response.

Aizawa accepted the paper, feeling a surge of determination within him. "I'll come around 8 am," he replied, taking note of the excitement that sparked in (Y/N)'s eyes upon hearing his answer.

"That's settled then," she declared, a sense of purpose in her voice. As they reached the train station, (Y/N)'s train arrived first, signaling their impending separation. With a smile, she turned to Aizawa. "This is my train. I'll see you tomorrow." With a wave, she hopped onto the train, leaving Aizawa standing there, watching as the doors closed.

Lost in thought, he found himself staring at the piece of paper in his hand, the address written on it a symbol of the path they were about to embark on. Tucking it safely into his pocket, he awaited the arrival of his own train, his mind abuzz with anticipation for the training session that awaited them tomorrow.

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The morning sun cast its warm glow on Aizawa as he stood before the grand gates of what appeared to be a mansion. Despite the house itself being of regular size, the sprawling land surrounding it exuded an air of opulence and grandeur. Aizawa couldn't help but feel a sense of unease at the numerous guards stationed at the gates. With a deep breath, he mustered his determination and approached the intercom.

Pressing the button, a voice immediately crackled through the speaker, its tone direct and precise. "Purpose for visit?"

Aizawa stumbled over his words for a moment, momentarily forgetting (Y/N)'s name. Gripping his bag tightly, he managed to mumble, "My name is Aizawa Shouta. I'm here to train with..." His voice trailed off, frustration lacing his tone. Before he could gather his thoughts, the voice from the intercom interjected.

"You're here for (Y/N)-sama, correct? One moment." The voice spoke again, and after a brief pause, the massive gates slowly swung open.

Aizawa mentally scolded himself for his forgetfulness as he proceeded towards the house. Standing by the entrance was a woman dressed in a maid's uniform, who greeted him with a formal bow.

"My name is Elena, I am the maid of this household. (Y/N)-sama has asked me to bring you to the testing grounds." Elena's eyes seemed to penetrate Aizawa's being for a moment before a warm smile graced her face. "Please follow me," she said, extending a guiding hand. With a nod, Aizawa followed her lead as they made their way along a rocky trail connected to the side of the house.

As they walked, the distant sound of clashing reached Aizawa's ears. His curiosity piqued, he quickened his pace, and soon the sight unfolded before him—a massive stone platform, resembling a colossal tile, situated in the middle of the field. And there, engaged in a fierce hand-to-hand combat, was (Y/N) struggling against an older man—her father.

Aizawa couldn't help but be taken aback by the intensity of the fight. The determination in (Y/N)'s eyes and the unwavering spirit with which she faced her opponent captivated him.

With a swift motion, (Y/N) tumbled to the ground, clearly outmatched by her opponent's superior combat skills. The man chuckled, extending a hand towards her. "You're getting rusty, (N/N). Has being in the support department taken you away from proper training?" he teased.

Wiping a smudge from her cheek, (Y/N) shot him a defiant glare as she accepted his hand. "As if!" she retorted, her determination shining through.

Interrupting the intense moment, Elena's voice rang out, calling (Y/N)'s attention. "Your guest is here, (Y/N)-sama," she announced, causing both father and daughter to turn their heads.

The realization struck (Y/N) like a bolt of lightning, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment as she noticed that Aizawa had been observing their sparring session. "A-A-Aizawa!" she stammered, panic seeping into her voice.

Her father's gaze shifted from (Y/N) to Aizawa, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips. Remembering the conversations with his daughter, he recalled her determination to support Aizawa and help him gain recognition, having felt like she had held him back during the entrance exam.

(Y/N) hastily retrieved her jacket and quickly zipped it up, her attempt to conceal her sparring session in vain as Aizawa had already witnessed it. However, his focus shifted as his gaze locked onto the man standing behind (Y/N). She turned to see her father, and her anxiety skyrocketed.

"P-please don't tell anybody!" she blurted out, bowing deeply in a desperate plea.

Perplexed by the sudden request, Aizawa tilted his head in confusion. Just as tension started to build, Elena interjected, her voice calm and reassuring. "He doesn't know who (F/N)-sama is, it's alright," she explained with a gentle smile.

Relief washed over (Y/N), her eyes sparkling with hope as she raised her head to meet Elena's gaze. "R-really?" she asked, her voice filled with gratitude.

Elena nodded affirmatively, and (Y/N) let out a sigh of relief. She turned back to Aizawa, her expression brightening. "This is my dad," she introduced happily, as her father approached them, waving his hand in greeting.

"Hi there, pal. I'm (Y/N)'s father. I heard she wanted to create a support item for you. Feel free to use my garage as much as you want," he offered with a warm smile. Suddenly, his phone rang, interrupting the conversation. "Ah, I'll have to take this call. Elena will keep an eye on you two while I'm away," he said, answering the call and walking off, leaving (Y/N) and Aizawa in the care of the trusted maid.

As her father departed, (Y/N) couldn't help but call out, "S-stay safe at work!" She then turned her attention back to Aizawa, her fingers fidgeting nervously.

After a moment of silence, she gathered the courage to speak up. "D-do you want to spar for a bit? It'll help me evaluate your combat ability," she suggested, shyly tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Sure. How do you want to do this?" Aizawa inquired, already stretching his muscles in preparation for the spar.

(Y/N) smiled, getting into a comfortable stance with a hand on her hip. "We'll fight hand to hand, no quirks. Sound good?" she proposed.

Aizawa nodded in agreement. "Sounds good to me."

The two of them walked over to the platform, positioning themselves across from each other. (Y/N) discarded her jacket, revealing the black tank top she wore underneath. From her pockets, she retrieved a pair of fingerless gloves, tossing them over to Aizawa.

"Here, just so that we're even," she said, handing him the gloves. Then, turning to Elena, she commanded, "Elena, tell us when to start."

The maid nodded in acknowledgment.

Aizawa took a moment to slip the gloves on, his gaze returning to (Y/N). Her eyes were focused, shimmering with determination.

They both assumed their stances as Elena's voice rang out, "Start!"

[allegoricalinkin]

Hey!

Introductory post (:

My nickname is Inkin! (aka InkinXD/Stalkerink/Linkin or Чайник/CoperField)

About me!

Some dude from internet™ who moved from Twitter to Tumblr, likes many kinds of music and videogames (: My main languages - Russian/English, pronouns - he/him (but i really don't care that much 'bout it) B) I done/do many different things, such as:

Drawing/scribbles on paper and phone (started recently, so art quality may be really bad)

Shitty jokes/puns/memes

Some short videos on YouTube about games and other stuff (not so great tho)

Trading in TF2 (because by that I make money on jellybeans :D)

Writing (dropped it not so long ago, but you can rate this original fanfic I wrote (only on russian, but hmu if you want that on english) back in time when i was doing that)

Voice Acting (but more like a joke and only in Discord voice chats, but i can do that kinda semi-professionaly)

Bug testing (i can break very badly)

...other little miscellaneous things i didn't mentioned

My fandoms rn is

The Stanley Parable

Team Fortress 2

Danganronpa

Need For Speed

Deus Ex

Postal

Carmageddon...

and many others because i'm multifandom dude :D

Hope we can like each other! You can ask me or do some kind of request via "I never asked for this." button (: I'd like to accept some requests on art because my ideas drain quickly ^^

I can draw:

Funny or cute scetches (maybe even complete art)

Non-living things or background

Okay, I can draw people too (but not so good as i want to :( )

Characters from some fandoms (:

I'll not draw:

NSFW (my anatomy knowledge sucks badly)

Guts, meat, guro, etc. (NO. JUST NO. THANKS.)

Really overcomplicated stuff

Thanks in advance! 🤝

[glknight]

ARGOS MK. I AKA MARK AUGUSTINE - DEUS MACHINA

“Look, I’m all for protecting the Earth or universe or whatever, Sara. But firing rockets and lasers isn’t as cool as you think it is. Can we PLEASE find me a new body? I’ve been craving a burger for the past three weeks, and I think I’m getting the giant robotic equivalent of hangry!”

Piloting a giant robot is cool. But when his mind and soul is accidentally trapped in the frame of one designed by a secret coalition of worlds in order to fend off a despotic enemy sweeping across the galaxy called The Tide, Mark has a lot of adjustments to make. Fighting an alien horde is cool, but things like losing the ability to sleep, eternal cravings and simulacra sensations instead of the real thing shows how much of a divide there truly is between man and machine.

- - - - - - - -

A huge thank you to @zaryn-scribbles for helping me design Mark/Argos Mk. I. I still wanna get a figure of this made, damn it.

[deus-lapidis]

The Professor!Zhongli Masterlist

So basically, I had a work about Professor Zhongli, but you’re his spouse and not his student. And people seemed to really love it, so I’m making this post to recollect and expand the content :))

If you’d be interested in making requests on this AU, I’d be happy to receive them!! I’ll pick some out depending on how they fit my characterisation of him <3

☽⋅⊱⋅•⋅─────────────────⋅•⋅⊰⋅☾

✧ College boyfriend (when you were students)

✧ Charming shenanigans with him

✧ Charming shenanigans with him [pt.2]

✧ You, your husband and the excruciatingly humongous cat [new!]

✧ More to come!!

☽⋅⊱⋅•⋅─────────────────⋅•⋅⊰⋅☾

[surreal-duck]

However, all of the hardships he had experienced that day had been blown away without him realising it. The scene before him was so beautiful that he wanted to engrave it into his eyes, and his heart was filled with an unbearable heat.

Redrew the illustration in chapter 6 of their novel! These two have me in a chokehold every day of my life and I can’t count the amount of times I’ve combusted reading this scene