#how it’s masked or displayed

[obstinaterixatrix]

I really like romances that highlights a complex relationship with desire. what’s that one quote. found it, it’s the siken quote that goes “the enormity of my desire disgusts me” and “there’s only one thing I want, don’t make me say it” LOVE that. it’s so fun. denial and repression and self-loathing! some of my favorite ingredients for a romance.

[tbcanary]

one thing that did stand out to me while i was going back through cry for blood is how often we don't get to see helena's face.

it's a little thing, but there are so many panels -- especially when she's just received news of something, or is in emotional turmoil -- where she hides herself. she turns away, she bows her head. it's interesting, particularly because comics do so often show us those big dramatic facial expressions. but helena curls inward when upset. i think about these two panels a lot:

there's a note from stephanie hans in the backmatter of an issue of die that i think of -- about how in comics, how much space something takes up indicates how important it is -- and yet, somehow, whenever some new information comes up, helena makes herself small, minimizes her own emotional displays.

now, given, she does hold herself in a very particular way as a default state. head tilted down, no eye contact, etc:

but that's exaggerated when she's upset. often, she even takes the pose of a prayer. like the specific thing i'm referring to is either sitting with her head bent toward her clasped hands as if she's praying, or turned away toward a window or mirror that frames her like an altar. like so:

there is, in fact, an entire page where we don't see her face. while she's recuperating after all of the drama of the first half of the arc, she won't look anyone in the eye at all. instead, the framing moves around her and shows her, bent forward and hidden, from different angles:

i just think it's a nice little touch. a good display of who she is and how she responds to troubling situations, which makes perfect sense given what we learn about her during this arc. like, you know, if you're always at least somewhat at someone else's mercy -- be it batman, the other families, the people training her -- you'll want to minimize the outbursts and hide vulnerabilities, and she has a specific way of doing that. it often resembles prayer, because of course it does. she doesn't compare herself to a nun for nothing.

also, for a fun (?) bonus. this doesn't happen as often in the huntress costume… unless she's confronted with family. and then it creeps right back in:

anyway. helena bertinelli i care you.

[thespacesay]

hey!

if you, your child, or anyone you know and plan to hang out with are coughing/sneezing rn... please consider NOT going to a public place like a cafe! or, send the healthy one inside MASKED.

baristas and line cooks and register workers and servers and all service workers are PEOPLE WHO CAN AND DO GET SICK.

- sincerely, a cafe worker who is immunocompromised, needs to be healthy for an upcoming procedure, and whose coworkers pretty much are all sharing a flu

[al-luviec]

still haven't moved on from zane in this episode (aka I hit tag limit again and am unhappy about it)

[dino--draws]

once again plagued by Admonition lore details and currently its the recently-ish-deduced-in-canonexus "MAGIC DRAWER's destinations were chosen by PHMD and one of those is Paraline, meaning that he intentionally causes the Paradox" and this is FUCKING ME UP. 7243 is full of paradoxes and its a Whole Thing that Dougall does not realize he's in a causal loop/bootstrap paradox w/ causing Phillip's death until That Exact Moment Comes when MAGIC DRAWER targets Admoline so assumedly it went the same way for PHMD having to target Paraline and like. how tf did PHMD react to realizing that? To learning this is his fault? Was it resignment, like Dougall? was it despair? anger? all three at once? are we just speed running the five stages of grief in the time it takes to throw a lever?

GOD I need to fucking know what's going on behind this mans eyes HOW DO YOU FEEL ABOUT ANY OF THIS????? THIS FUCKING CHARACTER MAN I AM UNWELL.

[lesbiansanemi]

I hate when I’ll be complaining about some stupid bullshit a coworker does to other coworkers and half the time their response is to lower their voice and go “well…. You know…. I’m pretty sure they’re… on the spectrum, you know?” And every time I have a split second when I have to consider saying “you know I’m autistic, right?” just to make them vaguely uncomfortable for a few minutes and actually think about what they’re implying but of course I do not do that because the gratification is not worth a large sect of shitty coworkers knowing that about me and then talking about me like that every time I do something vaguely annoying or dumb but man…. It does get tempting sometimes

[panncakes]

FAVOURITE MTYL SCENES (in no particular order):

“I’m not his friend. I'm his den--”

[britishchick09]

cest_lefantome's amazing phantom book collection! :D

[vesperione]

I fear I’m starting to see a type in the Living Dead Dolls I collect. A black/red/white themed doll with Mary Janes and a minimum of one accessory.

[nerosdayinanime]

reminiscing about a life left behind

this is after the reunion at the bar, when Giyuu left Makomo tried to talk to him & figure out why he faked his death (then came back??) and left pretty soon after when he not so subtly brushed off her questions and vaguely apologized for disrupting things. Tengen & Kyojuro got extremely worried about him immediately ordering as many drinks he could at a time and being his usual happy-go-lucky self after Giyuu- the quietest and least confrontational person in the whole office -sent him to the floor in a fit of cold rage. They watched (and joined, though not to the same extent) as he got absolutely wasted, his suddenly saccharine attitude showing off just how much of his personality is just a performance.

Between the revelation that hes a demon slayer- a hashira just like them -and finally noticing the seam in his otherwise perfect mask, the both of them figure he's just as fucked up as they are from their job. Tengen has his own guise of extravagance, Kyojuro always being loud and proud to hide his insecurities- but Sabito was subtle about it. He was happy and playful, but not too much so like Kyojuro was- he also became a master of diverting attention from himself, they didn't know much about his personal life or hobbies- or anything outside of when they hung out or stopped by the little grocery store he worked at. Didn't know his favorite color, what genre of music he liked, what his favorite movie was- didn't know if he's ever had a partner or other friends, nothing about his school life or parents or if he had any siblings- nothing! He was a ghost of a person, like he merely popped into existence when they met him. That's probably not too far off- they didn't meet Sabito that day, they met his empty smile. Without ever realizing there was nothing behind it.

Thoroughly disconcerted by the realization and very worried about Sabito chugging alcohol like he had nothing left to live for while laughing like there was nothing wrong, they kept a close eye on him. When he starts getting quiet they force him to stop drinking and drag him back to his apartment and stay the night crashed on the couch & floor. In the morning Sabito was fucked. Absolute shit time. Had a vague feeling he shouldn't think about anything so he didn't, just fucked around with a worried Tengen & Kyojuro until they left. Continued not thinking about anything, did a bunch of chores and errands so he didn't have to think about Giyuu. Even fixed a neighbor's ac unit with the help of a youtube tutorial. As soon as the sun started setting he donned his slayer uniform and ignored painful sting in his heart at the sight of his old fox mask hanging on the wall, settling his face into the same empty smile as the default slayer mask he uses now. That night he was a beast- merciless and scathing strikes, chasing down terrified demons like he had a score to settle. Completely ignored other slayers he ran into, simply pushing past them dealing the kill and moving on.

This little routine continued for a few days- overworking himself desperately trying to keep out of his head, deflecting and straight up ignoring Tengen & Kyojuro asking about how he's doing, fleeing any of the other hashira or water-fox squad trying to ask about him and what all he's been doing the last several years, pissing off lower-level slayers he steals kills from. He works until he passes out from exhaustion, getting up and doing all it again when he wakes. A few weeks later and it catches up to him despite his attempts at running.

Giyuu hates him.

Rightfully so, he left him to burn like a coward and a fool. And did what with his time? Do nothing but make more mistakes? How many people hes lied to and let down? He's done nothing but run.

He knew it'd happen. As soon as he stopped moving he would never want to start again, as soon as he stopped running, as soon as he tripped- as soon as he hit the ground he'd never want to get up again. Years of grief stress and denial hit him all at once, he doesn't know what to do. Walls too high to see over, too deep to dig under, too thick to simply power through. No one on the other side who really needs him anyway.

Why does he even bother?

He stares at his fox mask. Hand crafted by the man he thought of as a father, who took him in and taught him to defend himself and protect others. Real good job he did of that. All he's done since he started running was hurt hurt hurt. The people he cared about and respected the most- abandoned. Everyone else left in the dust like they were nothing.

What fucking good..

...

He thinks of the better days. When he was a son, helping his mom water the plants so they'd bloom bright and vivid. When he was a brother, helping his little sister reach the top shelf for candy. When he was a student, fueled by his grief and anger with a promise not to let anyone else lose as much as he had. When he was a friend, pulling Giyuu out to see a meteor shower in their favorite clearing. When he was a boyfriend, feeding popcorn to Giyuu laying across his legs watching a movie together. ...He threw that all away and for what? So he wouldn't have to face his failures? How fucking pathetic.

He'd never have any of that again. Burned his bridges, destroyed the foundations, turned the ground to shifting sand. His head thunked against the wall behind him, why did he have to fuck everything up?

[transingthoseformers]

Okay but why are these addictive

I have stories (...ish) for these ones though!

The silver one, when i made it (a few days ago), was supposed to refer to a completely neutral organization?

Ohhh the second one, oh the second has more. So I entirely 100% based it on a hypothetical alien species's face, definitely technoorganic or full stop organic (though technoorganics in general fascinate me in Transformers, and it'd be super cool to see some who truly look nothing like earth animals). Now, those in my mind aren't wings. No, think mandibles. Think the Chelicerate from Subnautica Below Zero (Legit the design idea of something having more than a top haw and a bottom jaw is fun). Now my thought process was "so what if a new faction rose from nowhere, having grown and festered in some quiet part of the universe enough that it threatened to tear a warpath through the Milky Way Galaxy?" Extra points if they actually had full on assimilated a few dwarf galaxies, so they're full on an actual threat.

[seefasters]

im having. so much trouble deciding what montrose's mask should look like

[gritty-big-naturals]

who wants to go to the met museum and yell about stolen indigenous art with me bc WEW i’m heated

[dullahandyke]

No but for real envision with me. Metis's Noh mask. Explodes

[jsdimensions]

People seemed to like my voice orb so have them screaming loud enough to break glass (hence the cracked mask visor)

I wanted to draw with my markers for the first time in I think a year??? So here's this

[readwritealldayallnight]

(part of the Wife at First Sight series)

When Ghost had asked if you would help him with something, you’d answered yes without a question. You didn’t ask for details, smiling and thanking him every time he opened each door that led to the base’s parking garage, giggling when he even insisted on opening the truck door for you. You’d come to grow fond of your work husband, appreciating how he never failed to make you feel special.

You sometimes wished his affections were genuine, rather than part of what you’d assumed was a strange hazing ritual in the military (which you couldn’t deny kind of worked, the two of you had grown closer hadn’t you? Was that the point of hazings?).

But you knew that line of thinking wouldn’t lead anywhere, other than potential heartbreak. He surely was only joking around, wouldn’t return your feelings. That’s why you played along with the ruse, but tried your best not to fall too hard for the man who was making that more and more impossible.

Still though, you couldn’t deny the pang in your heart when you discovered the errand he requested your help with, was to go look at engagement rings.

Did he actually have someone special in his life? Someone he hoped to propose to?

You felt guilty, thinking there might be another person out there that he loves enough to ask them to marry him, all the while you’re enjoying his attention at work, pretending he could ever actually want you as his wife.

You follow him into the shop, eyes widening at the never ending cases and displays of shiny, glittering jewelry, as far as the eye can see.

He chuckles at your expression, telling you not to worry your pretty little head over any price tags, just to pick out whichever one you liked.

You appreciated that he trusts your judgement so much that he wanted your opinion on which ring to buy his partner, and so you take your time looking through them all, even if it makes you sad to picture him slipping this ring onto another person’s finger.

Gaze scanning the displays, your eye is instantly caught by one ring and one ring only. You point to it, Ghost humming in agreement, signalling for one of the employees behind the counter to unlock the case.

The man pulls the ring out, handing it to the Lieutenant who examines it in between gloved fingers.

“Let’s see how it fits.” He murmurs, taking your left hand in his and slipping the band onto your ring finger, both of your eyes locked on the movement.

“Like a glove.” The employee says with a smile, moving to gather a selection of ring boxes he hopes to show you both, seeing that the ring has evidently found its owner and fits perfectly.

“It’s really beautiful Ghost.” You tell him, admiring the ring as he admires your expression. “Your wife’s a lucky woman.” You add, thinking of the mystery woman you’re convinced he’s buying this for, assuming you must have a similar ring size to her or something, if he’s having you try it on.

Your eyes meet his own warm gaze as his hand folds your fingers, bringing the ring up to his lips to press a kiss through the mask.

“Not as lucky as I am to be her husband.”