#i just copied the tags

[dragg-aon]

This is good

Luigi doesn't know if it's a good thing to like someone like Bowser... but I think... he's ready to talk.

At least to Link XD

I prefer selective mute Link, but there was no time....

My crossover to tell you I'm going to participate in the Revalink Week in May.

Don't worry, I'm still writing the script for the Luigi Mario reunion! I'm just slow.🥲

[crunchchute]

gec

[casart]

The art I worked on for @qsmpzine Chronicles!!ღゝ◡╹)ノ♡ I'm so excited to share them; I had so much fun w each individual piece!!🥚✨

Genuinely am so grateful to have participated in this. It was one of the best experiences and I'm so proud of what this zine has accomplished!!🙌🍳

[barawrah]

i want us both to eat well

[pbnmj]

what was supposed to just be pavitr and meera jain spiralled into a LOT of spiders in formalwear/red carpet outfits.... most of them referenced off met gala outfits and then adjusted to suit my own tastes LOL

[satanghulu]

pact marks pt 3

✦ CAST: satan, asmo, beel, belphie ✦ SUMMARY: brothers’ reaction to you hiding your pact marks ✦ WARNING: urm the twins’ part got slightly angsty, mentions of lesson 16! ✦ WC: 2.7K

[PART 1] | [PART 2] | [PART 3] | MASTERLIST

══════════════════

Satan

Satan hates that the mark is gone but tries to play it cool to get back into your good books.

.

The sound of the door slamming made Satan snap his head up, watching as you stomped your way in somehow avoiding all the books strewn on the floor, even in your anger-induced haze. 

“Well, seems like someone’s having a great day,” He sounded bemused, slotting a bookmark into the page of his current read. He could feel the flicker of wrath calling out to him as the rim of your eyes flashed green.

You planted your hands on your hip and hissed, “Why didn’t you tell me?” The furrow between your brows told him that you were angry but it didn’t take a genius to figure that part out. But at this juncture, he couldn’t tell if it was directed towards him or yourself.

“Tell you what, my dear?” A bewildered Satan sat up straight, inching his thighs open as you forcefully made a space for yourself. The intensity of your gaze only made him more confused as you huffed again in exasperation.

“That pact marks could be hidden!” You whisper-screamed as you peered at his expression, frowning when you didn’t see the hint of realisation you wanted. Instead, you let out a loud groan, bringing a hand up to pinch the tip of his ear as your form of punishment. 

“Ow--Hands off!” Satan smacks your hand, rubbing at his ears woefully. He watches as you lean past him to pick up his novel with a contemplative look as if you wanted to throw the book at the wall.

He pauses, waiting for your next move. With a disgruntled air, you slid the book further away on his bed as you took its place beside him. Satan continues to examine your expression thoughtfully, the gears turning in his head as he slowly shifts his head up. A strand of blond hair falls from where it was tucked behind his ears, and you resist the urge to move it out of the way.

‘Wait. Come again?’ His thoughts came to a screeching halt when he finally processed your words.

“Solomon taught you.” He said, his words sounding more like a statement rather than a question, to which you replied snappily with who else?. He turned to appraise your appearance to which you held his stare, unphased.

Damnit, he was hoping that you wouldn’t have found out about it just yet. 

“What? Cat got your tongue?” You narrowed your eyes, bottom lip jutting out in frustration as you wagged a finger at him accusingly. 

He couldn’t bear to see your angry expression towards him any longer. Satan grabs your finger gently, bringing it to his lips as he lowers his voice to a whisper.

“Can’t a demon want to see his mark on you?” For added dramatics, he flutters his lashes while giving your finger another kiss. Immediately, your face flushed red as you tried to jerk your hand out of his grip.

Satan holds onto you tighter. His touch travels up your arm to grab you by the shoulder, pulling you into his space. “Dislike it?” He murmurs into your ear, noting that it has turned red. You timidly shake your head, resolutely not uttering a word. 

Although he finds it a shame that he couldn’t see your expression.

“I still can’t believe you didn’t tell me about it…” You said with a small voice, face buried in Satan’s shoulder. You were unwilling to show him your face, slightly annoyed that he had won over your anger so easily.

��Well,” Satan pulls you back to give you a sullen stare. “It’s not like I made any pacts before and magic tends to affect everyone differently.”

(It was the half-truth, kinda. But pact marks are always able to be hidden, no matter the person. But he wasn’t going to tell you that.) 

You gave him a long look, searching his face for any tells of a lie.

“Fine. I’ll take it as you didn’t know this time.” You relaxed your posture, slinking into his hug. “But, next time--“ 

“There will be no next time, love.” 

(There absolutely will be.)

══════════════════

Asmo

Asmo would be the most understanding, second to Beel. This would largely be because he already has a pact with Solomon. Also, he understands that sometimes the marks could ruin the aesthetic of a particular outfit but still? He just thinks you look so pretty with it.

.

The feeling of cold fingers on your back trailing up your back gives you a fright, as you turn to smack the perpetrator. Thankfully, your reflexes were fast enough to stop the stack of paper from flying at his face.

“Babe!” Asmo whines, giving you a hurt stare. “What would you do if you hurt this perfect face?” He brings an elegant finger up to the side of his face, showing off his porcelain skin as the light hits at the right angle.

You flicked his nose.

“Do you need me now?” You questioned, gesturing at your pile of paperwork in front of you. Mammon had dumped all of the bills on you before fleeing in the direction of RAD, as Levi chases behind him right after.

You assume that he wouldn’t be back in the house for the night at least, to evade Levi’s scrutiny. Thus, you had started sorting the bills to at least, lessen his workload so that Lucifer wouldn’t whoop both of your asses. (Despite Mammon being your caretaker.)

A manicured hand taps on your thigh, demanding your attention.

“Pay attention to me.” The Avatar of Lust is stunning as always, a pout plastered on his face as he grouses cutely. You chuckle and shove the paperwork aside, Mammon be damned. He could do his own paperwork and you had a much cuter distraction right in front of you.

“Yes, honey?” You match his tone, locking your fingers with his as he continues to tap on your thigh incessantly like a peacock flaunting its feathers. “I wanna see my pact mark.” A glint in his eye shines, a bright smile playing on his lips.

You sigh.

“So that’s why you were touching my back.” He nods at your statement, a perfect eyebrow arched as if to ask you what’s wrong with it. 

Resigning yourself to your fate, you turn and lift your shirt slightly to give Asmo a better view. You try not to flinch as his cold fingers sweep past the area where the mark was supposed to be.

A hum comes from behind you. Asmo tugs your shirt down, giving you a tap on your back to indicate he is done with his little inspection. 

“Satisfied?” You asked as you arranged your shirt properly. 

“Maybe if you go au naturel, I’ll be able to have a better look.” This time, Asmo’s lips curled into a grin as his head tilted to the right suggestively. You let out a chuckle, patting his shoulder. “Next time, buddy.”

A thought crosses your mind as you stop in your motion.

“You’re not…unhappy?” Asmo cocks his head to give you a contemplative look, not saying anything. A flutter of motion catches your eye as he suddenly leans in to press a kiss on your cheek, leaving a trail of delicate sweetness in his wake.

“Nope.” He popped the ‘p’ as he stood up, patting your head. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about it.” A graceful hand wraps around your wrist as he tugs you up, beckoning you to follow him.

“Come on, it’s self-care day today!” He cheered, lifting your arm up above your head and bumping your hip hard with his.

You grinned. Typical Asmo.

══════════════════

Beel

Beel would definitely be the most understanding. He gets your reasoning if you want to cover it up. Though, he is still a demon. He will have this nagging feeling that something is wrong but he’s not sure why.

.

“Beel?” You padded softly into the kitchen, yawning as you rubbed your eyes. The kitchen’s lights were turned low but the refrigerator’s door was wide open, the dim light still hurting your cornea.

Only the sound of crunching answers you as the demon was too transfixed with the leftovers from dinner. You had made human-world food today, feeling homesick and craving for a pick-me-up. As always, Beel had made his stance known about the food. But, he must have really liked it. (At least much more than you had presumed.) The fridge was completely devoid of your cooking, the usual snacks he ate for supper untouched.

You had also made much more than the usual portions because you intended to bring it to RAD to let everyone try it. Well, you should have known. Though, you really had made extras of extras… 

“Oh.” Beel waved his hand at you, finally noticing your presence. He hurriedly swallowed whatever was in his mouth and beamed at you happily. “You’re still up?” 

You nodded, finally remembering what you had initially come here to do. “Water.” Your voice was scratchy as Beel sent you a thumbs-up before continuing to consume his supper. 

You squeezed past him to grab your glass and the water pitcher. After quenching your thirst, your eyelids no longer felt heavy and instead, you now felt wide awake. Still holding your glass of water, you headed to where Beel was sitting and hopped on top of the counter beside him.

“Want some?” He offered his spoon to you, motioning for you to take a bite. You shake your head, telling him that you have already finished your night routine. Both of you sit in silence, the sound of Beel’s chewing fading into white noise.

The steady cacophony of Beel’s chewing slows your thoughts and just as you were about to doze off--

“Hey.”

You startle awake, sleepy eyes searching for the source of the voice. “Oh, were you about to sleep?” Beel looks apologetic, large hand flying up to move your head to lean on his shoulder. In a daze, you grabbed his hand instead as you tried to blink the sleep away.

“It’s fine. Is there something you need?” You yawned, letting go of Beel’s hand in favour of covering your mouth. He shakes his head solemnly. Yet his face was pinched, as if something was bothering him.

You wondered if he had gotten into an argument with Belphie. However, you recall they were just fine during dinner, and knowing Beel, he would be more upset if so. He also couldn’t have possibly gotten into any tiffs with the brothers seeing as you didn’t hear a single peep from them. 

“Are you worried about something?” You asked softly, hand placed over his to give him some reassurance.

He shakes his head.

You had an inkling the matter was plaguing him was involving you. But the only change so far was the pact marks. Oh, the pact marks.

“Is it the pact marks?”

Beel stiffens up as if he was caught doing something wrong. You continue to wait patiently, rubbing your thumb in a circle over his. 

“Kind of.” He admits, avoiding your gaze. “It’s just that… You cooking human-world food and then hiding the pact marks. It feels like you’re…” He looks away, unable to continue.

“I’m leaving?” You finished his sentence, lifting three fingers to grasp his chin carefully. 

He nods, sighing. “I know you won’t and it’s irrational.” He turns to look at you with a strong gaze, lower lip trembling slightly. “Can we stay here for a while?”

You lean into his touch, Beel instinctively wrapping his arms around you.

“Of course.”

══════════════════

Belphie

Opposite of his twin. He hates that the mark is gone yet he wouldn’t be able to say anything much seeing as the mark manifested around your neck, reminiscent of the time he gave you a tight hug.

.

Belphegor’s been avoiding you lately.

It’s impossible not to notice the sudden distance he puts between both of you. This doesn’t mean to say he goes out of his way to make you feel unwelcome; rather he goes out of his way to be polite to you.

At breakfast, he sits two seats away from you. He passes you the cutleries when you ask, hands never touching you. He scampers off to class with Satan as soon as he is done. It’s Belphegor, the Avatar of Sloth; when has he ever been known to be punctual?

Yet for all his aloofness, he comes into your dreams every night. He watches you – he sits at the edge of your vision, chin on his palm as his tail swishes calmly behind him. But you wake up in your own bed with your heart thrumming with confusion and affection, all the same. Sometimes, it feels as if he observes you in reality too.

It was frustrating. 

You don’t want to force the youngest out of his comfort zone to talk about his feelings but it was starting to get ridiculous. He’s thousands of years older than you and he can’t even bear to talk about his own feelings?

You huffed.

You’ve made up your mind to talk to him but he’s as slippery as an eel when determined. When Belphegor wants to hide, no one should be able to find him. Well, except for one person.

“Where is he?” You dug out a burger from your backpack – you had stopped by Hell’s Kitchen after an unsuccessful search in RAD. Beel pauses around his mouthful of food, scrutinising the outstretched offering in your hand.

“Rooftop.” He glances hesitantly at your expression. “Please take care of him.” You nod, shoving the burger into the pile of food beside him. You pretend not to take notice of the underlying meaning in his words.

-

You climb the stairs to the twins’ room, footsteps echoing softly in the silence of the house. The rightmost window was wide open, the cold breeze making you shiver in your pajamas. You stick your head out of the window, noticing there is no path up. Belphegor must have flown up in his demon form. Was he that desperate to avoid you?

Quietly, you muttered a levitation spell; sending vibrations through the air as you swayed unsteadily.

Imagination. Imagination. Imagination.

Slowly, the spell stabilised and a sense of pride twinged in your heart. You gently landed on the roof, spotting the tell-tale sight of Belphegor’s cowprint from the back. The wind nipped at your nose as you walked over, a chill running through you.

Both of you sit in silence.

“The Pool of The Abyss is out tonight.” He lifts a finger to point at the sky, gaze trained upwards. Humoring him, you turn to look at the night sky – the stars glittering in the endless abyss, a stunning sight that takes your breath away each time.

“Are you going to continue pretending?”

His breath hitches as he stays quiet. The silence stretches uncomfortably long, your hands falling to your side as you bite your tongue to let him think. His tail lashes back and forth, catching your attention.

“I’m sorry.” He bites out.

You shift closer, finally seeing your chance of reconciliation. “What are you apologising for?” Your nightwear flutters in the wind and Belphegor gestures for you to lean into him. 

“Everything.” He sighs wearily. “The-” You rub soothing circles on his left thigh, as his tail curls around your middle to provide warmth. “The incident and just. Everything.”

“It’s--“

“Don’t say it’s okay.” He cuts you off, frowning as the tail tightens just a little. “It’s not. You know that.”

You nod.

“I got reminded of it when I saw the mark was gone.” He pauses again, moving to place his head on your shoulder, seemingly to avoid your stare. “I just wonder how much of a better life you would have if you never came to the Devildom.”

You bring your hand up to touch your neck – your skin doesn’t feel any different to the touch with or without the pact marks. Closing your eyes, the magic buzzes in the air as you undo the spell hiding your pact marks. Belphegor craned his neck to watch the movement, face twisted as though the mark sullied your skin.

Belphegor takes a deep breath as he reaches out to touch you.

══════════════════

a/n ▸ the path to forgiveness isnt always linear! Satan - on your temple Asmo - tramp stamp Beel - below your navel belphie - front of neck…………where he strangled u lol On a side note, the lnd men has been populating my fyp too much. I believe asmo smells like peaches (thank u bee for the idea), it suits his colour scheme so much. (ALSO, if you know how prada candy smells like, yeah i associate that with him) I also wholly contemplated making reader summon belphie when he was hiding from them just for shits and giggles. also this isn’t my fav but it’s been marinating in my drafts for weeks so imma js post it LOLZ

[aria-greenhoodie]

You see, @localcanadiancryptid22, I’m a motherfucker who LOVES drama, so I fw anything that can create that.

I’m normal. Btw. In case you were wondering.

[izzystizzys]

As High Marshall Commander, a title foisted on him by the Galaxy’s fakest bitch aka Chancellor Palpatine, Fox theoretically has privileges and authorities like no other clone. In practice, he has a headache and gets ignored more obviously than before.

What he also has is a fancy new function on his personal comm unit modified to broadcast GAR-wide to all commanding officers, up to and including Jedi. It gathers dust next to his own modified button that sees much better use - a private channel to Stone, the only vod that will let Fox bitch at him to his heart’s content without hanging up (Thire) or bitching right back (Thorn).

It’s been a long shift of 72 hours, the maximum Stabby allows him to do without a well-placed hypo to the neck, when Fox finally collapses on his rickety cot in the Command quarters and hits the private comm connection to Stone without looking. He’s already rolling his eyes so hard it tweaks at the migraine that’s been building since hour 18 and heaving a put-upon sigh.

“Everyone is stupid, Stone, and asking to be thrown face-first from the Dome balustrades”, he begins, settling into a low, dead tone of voice to warm to the building monologue. It’s a marathon, not a sprint. “I swear to haran I’m going to wring Amedda’s stringy neck one of these days. I don’t know what magical Force gods his mother pissed off, but they made sure to punish her and the Galaxy at large a hundred times over. He sucks the joy and competence out of every room like a black hole of stupid. I’d call him a has-been, but I trust in the power of nepotism and also just don’t believe he ever was. I swear he’s doing it on purpose and - oh, kriffing Sith-damned hells, you know who’s definitely doing it on purpose?! The kriffing Chancellor, that wrinkly ass-faced ballsack!”

Taking a deep breath, Fox lets that sit in his chest for a moment, indulging in the feeling of bright weightlessness. “I swear he’s trying to keep the war going - no one man can be that incompetent and still draw breath, not even Amedda or Taa. Goddamn Taa - but anyways, kriffing hell, Stone, either the senility isn’t an act or he’s a bad cartoon villain from Dooby Scoo. Yes Sir, sending Senator Amidala to a Seppie-infested planet for negotiations is a great idea after her fourth bomb threat of the week. No Sir, I can’t hear you cackling evilly with Count Dooku under your lame two-credit robe as you’re definitely not colluding with the Republic’s enemies. What, you have a red lightsaber?! Oh, of course I don’t know what that means, I was dropped on the head as a tubie!”

Barely pulling in a harsh breath, Fox continues, palms pressing into his eyeballs hard enough to cause sparks. “And speaking of lightsabers and senile fucks, haran smite my ass off but who the kriff thought it’d be a good idea to give absolute tactical and military authority to the kriffing eldritch space monks! The Force didn’t bless them with the collective good sense it gave to a kriffing rock, and I’m tired of pretending otherwise! Has anyone kriffing read the Theed Convention of Sentient Rights in Wartimes?! NO?!! Well, color me UNSURPRISED, because war crimes ARE NOT! GOOD! BATTLE! TACTICS!!”

“They run around in crop tops, Stone, in crop tops! Oh, the Force provides - WELL I’M GOING TO PROVIDE MY FOOT UP YOUR ASS, AND IT’S GOING TO HURT BECAUSE YOU’RE NOT WEARING KRIFFING ARMOUR!”

“Sure, let’s send the preteens into active warzones under heavy artillery in kriffing party wear! Surely nothing will ever go wrong! And give them commanding positions equivalent to CC-clones, WHO WERE LITERALLY GENETICALLY CREATED FOR IT! WITH A DECADE OF INTENSE TRAINING! LET’S DO THAT, BECAUSE WE’RE ALL KRIFFING STUPID!”

He’s gesturing wildly at the ceiling now, face heating up as his blood boils beneath the surface. “And you know what really gets my lowers in a twist, apart from the preteen commanding officers and blatant kriffing high treason and war profiteering?! Is it the complete lack of recognition? Gratitude? Basic sentient rights?! No, Stone, no, I would take all that in stride if it meant I never had to see Skywalker and Amidala kriffing canoodle right in front of me again, and pretend like it isn’t the galaxy’s worst conflict of interest case in the making!”

“By all levels of Sith-hell, what the kriff is wrong with that woman? You have it all, you could have anyone, and you choose that twatwaffle?! And then they have the gall to lock themselves in a broom closet for twenty minutes straight and have me guard it! ‘Oh yes, Senator, naturally we all go rattling brooms with our good friends! Nothing dodgy happening at all! I definitely believe you were looking for detergent and have used a washing machine before!’ The absolute nerve on those two! And then last week - you’ll never believe this - High General Windu passed by, and I swear he looked like he wanted to throw himself off the roof! I’ve never been less impressed by anyone in my life, and I’m batch-mates with Bly!”

“Speaking of Bly, that little bitchtit - if I have to edit one more, one more kriffing propaganda piece of him staring at General Secura’s bits, I’m going to stab my eye out! And if I have to edit one more of Secura staring at his bits, I’m going to stab the other one out! The only good thing I have to say about them is they’re more subtle than Skywalker and Amidala, which means nothing really. I will never understand that woman - but then she’s worked with Jar Jar Binks for a decade and not had a nervous breakdown, so she either has nerves of steel or is on some good-ass drugs.”

“Girl, your choices. And you know what else is a choice? Kote kriffing roundhouse-kicking heads off droids when he has a perfectly good blaster right there! I don’t know what the Longnecks put in his tube, but I hope to kriff it’s not contagious. I’d say I’m glad he has Kenobi to keep him in check, but that man wouldn’t know common sense if it punched his nose clean off his face. Flirting with General Grievous, ugh. I’d say he can do better, but honestly, they deserve each other.”

“And Wolffe - “, panting, Fox pauses, considering. “Well, Wolffe is an asshole and stupid, and I hate him because he’s stupid and has a stupid face. Also he keeps drunkenly submitting adoption paperwork on General Koon’s behalf - I wish I could say something mean about that, but honestly, his existence is roast enough. Anyways, bitches are trying me today, and by bitches I mean everyone. Commander Fox signing off to go not commit treason, unfortunately.”

Thoroughly powered out, Fox sinks into his hard mattress with a deep sigh. Several seconds of silence reign, and then his comm unit starts blaring in alarm.

Somewhere in the Jedi Temple, Mace Windu is knocked flat on his ass by a gargantuan shatterpoint exploding.

[imtherain]

Well then, I'm invested

🤠🚬

[stil-lindigo]

a non-comprehensive guide to my favourite characters in claymore, the best manga you've never read (more under the cut)

don't know what I'm talking about? here's a crashcourse.

[froganni]

It's 4 am but wanted to post more Solar-punk Pearl :D

Reblogs appreciated!

[crabsnpersimmons]

"Your heart was in the right place. Don't blame your earnestness and efforts for their lack of understanding—the right people will appreciate your heart."

EDIT: i mention this in the tags already, but please don't copy my vent tags in your reblogs. thanks for understanding.

[milkbreadtoast]

idk how i want to draw him yet and not ready to make a srs attempt but here's a bad kdj phone doodle lol🚶🏻

[filurig]

two character's ive had in mind for a while but finally got myself to design, ylvarg (he/him) and faství (she/her)! they are old friends of gullmar !

ylvarg is a passionate linguist and polyglot (in the sense that he can understand many different languages... due to troll anatomy he cant speak any other than trollic), while faství is a tomte who loves to travel and be all over the place - otherwise, she wouldn't make the trek from her home in ångermanland to gästrikland every year to meet up with her friends during winter!

[madbard]

I just realized another reason I love Hozier’s music. It’s not just that the lyrics are complex, or the music itself is beautiful - it’s that Hozier is a musical liar.

Take Cherry Wine. This is a song about an abusive relationship, told from the perspective of someone very much in love with their abuser. Throughout the song, the narrator describes their lover’s cruelty. Lyrics like “I walk my days on a wire” and “open hand or closed fist would be fine” make the darker aspects of their relationship all too evident. At points, the song suggests that they are defending this relationship to someone else who cares about them (“it looks ugly but it’s clean. Oh mama, don’t fuss over me”) and even the more beautiful and seemingly romantic lines later in the song (“oh but she loves like sleep to the freezing”) have dark undertones (what else is sleep to the freezing but death?) Still, I often come across the song being used in a wholesome, romantic context. A lot of factors contribute to this, but I would argue that this song mainly gets mistaken for a romantic song because of how soft and gentle the music is - it presents as a sweet love song in every way except the lyrics. Even those lyrics are told through the lens of someone defending their broken and abusive relationship, deepening the lie. Our narrator wants to portray this relationship as something dark, yet also immensely beautiful and encompassing. The result is a song about the agony and pleasure of a broken relationship, disguised so well as a love song in every possible way that it gets mistaken for something romantic. (Even if you are aware of the meaning, there is still that deep urge to experience the song as something romantic. Just like the narrator, the listener is drawn in by beauty and the powerful idea of love, so much so that it can blind them to reality.)

Variations of this can be seen in Talk. In this song, the narrator makes their intentions very clear - they are sweet-talking someone in order to hide their own thoughts and desires (“I try to talk refined, for fear that you find out how I’m imagining you”). Despite knowing this, the sheer power of the lyrics (“I'd be the voice that urged Orpheus / when her body was found. / I'd be the choiceless hope in grief / that drove him underground. / I'd be the dreadful need in the devotee / that made him turn around, / and I'd be the immediate forgiveness in Eurydice”) overwhelms the listener. We know the speaker is putting on a show. We know they have ulterior motives, and likely don’t even believe what they are saying. But their words are so beautiful that we don’t care. The intense, almost mythic music in the background is so lovely and deep, it makes the lyrics seem genuine, because what lie could sound so astounding and true? In this case, the song about smoke and mirrors and empty talk becomes a love song because the narrator is just that skilled at lying.

Even songs like Too Sweet, sung by a narrator who refuses to be with someone unless they allow their standards to slide, become ‘romantic’ and ‘sweet’ to certain listeners - not because the lyrics are impenetrable, but because so many of Hozier’s narrators are unreliable. His songs spin sweet stories, lies so stunning that listeners are willing to deny what they know in order to experience the beauty of that untruth, the complexity of that space between what is real and what we want to believe.

And isn’t that more true to the experience of being a person, and loving other people, than the simple truths we often see in these types of songs?

[katabay]

MY DEAR VICTOR

“My dear Victor,” cried he, “what, for God’s sake, is the matter? Do not laugh in that manner. How ill you are! What is the cause of all this?”

“Do not ask me,” cried I, putting my hands before my eyes, for I thought I saw the dreaded spectre glide into the room; “he can tell. Oh, save me! Save me!” I imagined that the monster seized me; I struggled furiously and fell down in a fit.

Poor Clerval! What must have been his feelings? A meeting, which he anticipated with such joy, so strangely turned to bitterness. But I was not the witness of his grief, for I was lifeless and did not recover my senses for a long, long time.

This was the commencement of a nervous fever which confined me for several months. During all that time Henry was my only nurse. I afterwards learned that, knowing my father’s advanced age and unfitness for so long a journey, and how wretched my sickness would make Elizabeth, he spared them this grief by concealing the extent of my disorder. He knew that I could not have a more kind and attentive nurse than himself; and, firm in the hope he felt of my recovery, he did not doubt that, instead of doing harm, he performed the kindest action that he could towards them.

Frankenstein; or, the Modern Prometheus, Mary Shelley (CHAPTER 5)

ah, to be cared for! the unconditional depth and gentleness of it. also have you guys ever listen to the ost for the korean frankenstein musical. sometimes I think about how musical!victor uses his henry's (dupre in the musical, not clerval, but henry all the same) head for his creation. that's also an unconditional something!!

ngl I considered attempting a full bernie wrightson homage for this, but then I thought about how I like having fun and that would totally ruin my hands for the week and settled for drawing a bunch of lines until I got tired of drawing lines lmao

ko-fi⭐ bsky ⭐ pixiv ⭐ pillowfort ⭐ cohost ⭐ cara.app