#ive still yet to figure out how to draw them
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foodcu-be · 21 days ago
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sketches
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monotone-artist · 3 months ago
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[id in alt]
marivam my new child marivam!!!!! adopt i got from @dieselpvnk i am VERY excited about them!! thinking that they're a kind of witch character who brews magical potions, not 100% sure yet though
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todayisafridaynight · 9 months ago
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I’m fairly new to the fandom, but I do have a question if you can answer it! Why do people ship Daigo with Aoki / Masato? I tried looking to see if they’ve interacted before, but couldn’t find anything! Sorry for asking I’m just </3 dumb AND I LOVE YOUR ART OF THEM!!! Nerd looking ahhhhhh
hi ! welcome to the community i hope you're having a lovely time so far and ty for enjoyin my stuff :) no need for apologies it's a very fair question to have :]
i cant speak for everyone (all. ten people into masadai anyway) but Personally To Me i just think the idea of them together is very funny. thats quite literally it im afraid..
#snap chats#//twenty page google doc in the background// ignore that. it's mostly for comedic purposes#might also be my fault idk sorry about that. allegedly. idk ive had like three people tell me they started to ship them cause of me 🧍‍♂️#@mementoasts is another person who's drawn masadai and whose stuff i love and am inspod by .. i love their disneyland fic sm ...#there was another artist on twitter who posted a neat drawing of them but i cant remember who they were and i didnt bookmark it //screams//#recently there's been ANOTHER masadai artist ive started following on twitter - @wifekiryu. his account's n/s/f/w fyi before you go looking#he has a tumblr too @foxdies. i say cause i realized as much recently vjeaKLGJALKGJ#oh but I GUESS ill get deeper into why. /i/ personally ship masadai or whatever#first off they're opposing factions yet their character alignments Do Not Match their roles. stereotypically anyway#aoki who leads the 'surface' of society and is meant to be an admirable figure and someone 'just' when really. he sucks LMAO#though that's not atypical of politicians but just from a stereotypical This Is A Respectable Individual perspective of his role#daigo on the other hand leads the 'underbelly' of society- yk comprised of dangerous criminals and outcasts and whatnot#yet as we know him daigo's compassionate and considerate of his men- he doesnt treat them like tools like aoki does#if put in a room with the two daigo would be most people's choice of person to hang out with. probably open a trapdoor on aoki tbh#and i think thats really cool and epic i always love that kinda Subverting Expectations thing#theres also the fact they both started off like. edgy/angsty in the franchise and then brush up down the line#masato does a stronger 180. publicly. obviously but its still really funny they both have to get their act together#if you wanna talk about in-text reasons. there really is none LMAO I TELLS YOU masadai is pure crack#but if i wanted to pull a muscle reaching then there's daigo being on aoki's side while everyone else is on arakawa's during the funeral#im lying of course. mitsu was behind him. rgg tryna make me forget mitsu exist .... put him back in y8 ....#and ofc ichi joins that side to even out the seating but moving on another Goofy Reason is arakawa being like#'the chairman and my son are like p much the same age Surely he knows how he thinks :)'#and then i just think daigo being all smarmy about outsmarting aoki is really goofy and im choosing to interpret that as personal#they both also have issues with their dad. s. dad/s/. anyway.#tbh the google doc tag was a joke but i really could sit here and list every dumb reason why i think theyre funny together#like i started going over the tag limit so uhhhh yeah needless to say i have a lot of. dumb reasons 💀💀💀💀#one day ill use the main text for long rambles like this but todays not that day Point Is my imagination is rampant im afraid#so the short and sweet of it is I Think It's Funny. And They'd Be Terrible Together. Which Is Why It's Funny.#and the unfortunate part is anything i find funny i obsess over for a year so. //gestures to the mountain of bullshit thats my masadai tag/
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arolesbianism · 14 days ago
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Just came to the horrifying realization that I don't think I ever posted these despite having drawn them months ago. Woopsie.
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gautierprotectionsquad · 29 days ago
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nobody talks about how many times you need to draw your favorite character just to be able to draw them once
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quirkycritters · 2 months ago
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Game Night: CHAIN ATTACK!!!
i am,,, withering away but ITS DONE ITS DONE IM FREE FROM THE CURSE (<<< still haunted by wips) clocking in at 32+ hours, this sucker has been getting pushed around for 10 months-
while theres some things i would have done differently if i could redo this from scratch, i still had a BLAST cramming in as much detail as i could tolerate >:) some highlights / cut ideas / ramblings are below the cut, but please zoom for details! (if tumblr doesnt shred it to bits)
gonna be real i locked so hard onto drawing ripped jeans that i forgot i could have just shoved legend into a skirt and called it a day
SOCKS. SOCKS. the amount of Joy anytime i figured out how to personalize them with game references: legend (hibiscus), twilight (ordon goats), and four (force gems)
i WAS going to put time in a turtleneck, but had an epiphany and started digging for the most obnoxious hawaiian shirts i could find,,, ft. a sea flower (wind waker) and a saturation boosted plumm (twilight princess)!
yeah so warriors got the sweater instead of the skintight shirt, sorry gang
speaking of if i ever say im going to draw a cableknit sweater again, somebody PLEASE shake some sense into me- warriors sweater was a NIGHTMARE since my art program has an astonishing lack of good brushes (and yet here i am still using it)
MOST of the text has been modified using the twilight princess cipher because yeah. i was procrastinating shading. also the other ciphers were in japanese- times shirt is cropped, but reads "its 5 oclock somewhere"
winds lobster shirt :) that is all i just think its neat
wilds jacket :) link w(ild) 2017, aka the release year of botw
jewelry! sky has the fireshield earrings, and wild has the amber earrings~ could barely squeeze the bombos and quake medallions onto legend, and wind got the joy pendant
hyrule :D embroidery on his sweatpants because i was struck by whimsy- also i 100% thought his shield was purple tinted for weeks while drawing this because the page i used as reference was set at night, and i was originally basing his sweater on his shield- scrapped the cross pattern after several failed attempts but kept the color ^^
the chips are bbq because im biased (reads "crisps" in twilight princess cipher for no real reason except whimsy)
bless my dearest homie for game reccs because the og plan was to have them all be loz games! titles include wii sports resort, elebits, super mario party, smash bros ultimate, just dance 2016 (its box art is colorful ok), and myth makers orbs of doom (I HATE THIS GAME WITH EVERY FIBER OF MY BEING, as i should, anyways i should play it again). four is suggesting orbs of doom, buddy aint even playing,,,
kinda was hoping to play around with hair colors and skin tones a bit more, but again, see the hour count- ill get em next time surely,,, also blue vs violet eyes for legend already had me in decision paralysis
the whole gang was gonna have friendship bracelets with color combos based on dynamics i found neat but oops! didnt finish the layer :')
thats a wrap! didnt yap about everything but im curious what yall catch onto- anyways surely ive learned something about biting off more than i can chew (<<< lying liar who lies)
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shiny-jr · 8 days ago
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damnation (peek VII?)
Warning: Yes, this is a yandere thing. Gender-neutral reader.
Characters: Sebek Zigvolt, Silver, Lilia Vanrouge, Malleus Draconia.
Summary: When you commit a crime, you receive a punishment. This is especially true in your society. No matter the crime, your punishment is the same: banishment. But to where you will be sent in exile and how miserable will it be? No one knows, because no one has ever returned.
Note: This is for y'all that supported me throughout the latest situation. NEVER EVER let it be said that I don't cherish my readers. Remember, this is NOT the full damnation Diasomnia chapter, just a fourth of it. A peek. Keep that in mind. Things are subject to change or rewrite. May not be completed in time for the milestone, but I wanted to give y'all this anyways. I sincerely hope you enjoy this slice.
I . . . II . . . III . . . IV . . . V . . . VI . . . VII
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THE MASTER OF ALL EVIL
A mask. There was a mask of cold black metal settled on the upper half of your face. It was cold, smooth against your cheeks. This was new. It wasn’t some sort of blindfold, as you could see perfectly and last you heard, they never blinded their prisoners. Concealing an evil-doer’s vision during their banishment was considered a small mercy, something they wouldn’t do, and the judges wanted each sinner to see the fate that awaited them. 
A supposedly horrid fate, but what sort of cruel end required you to wear a plate of armor and a warm cloak? Over your chest, your hand traced the curves and swirls on a metallic chest plate, reaching the black fabric over your shoulders and extending down your back. Removing the mask over your face and turning it in your hands to examine it, the empty eye holes of a feathered fiend stared back at you. The accessory resembled a bird, dark feathers carefully forged into the mask as the end curved into a sharpened beak. It was slightly unsettling, somewhat resembling the type of mask a plague doctor would don during the middle ages in times of peril. 
On the ground, just past the mask you were staring down at, were shreds of paper which caught your attention. It looked as if something or someone had torn a sheet to shreds and disregarded them in the middle of this dark and dreary hallway. Upon kneeling down to pick up a few pieces, your eyebrows furrowed as you attempted to piece them back together like a puzzle. 
Piece after piece, you managed to somewhat make out the painted image despite the face of a crowned figure being burnt black beyond recognition, but the rest of the image could somewhat be salvaged at least enough to draw a conclusion. A taller faceless crowned figure in garbs, beside a queen, holding a bundled baby in their arms that had been torn straight through. Below, on the aged paper was written text reading: Announcing the birth of the princess. A holiday is to be proclaimed throughout the entire kingdom in honor of the princess. 
Why did this all seem so awfully familiar? 
Slowly standing, you jumped upon hearing the rumbling start of thunder. Outside, past the window, dark storm clouds gathered in a hurry above a dense forest and towering wall of thorns. Thorns! Thorns so tall that even from afar, they looked as big as a house! 
“Oh… my god.” You whisper in slight horror. 
The royal family and birth of a princess, a deep dark forest, a deadly wall of thorns–– these were all part of a story. These were points of a fictional story, and yet you were here. Here, somewhere, in a corridor where the walls were dark stone bricks and a long carpet ran along the floor. How did you play into this? The bird-like mask still in your hands and staring back at you, appeared to answer that. The only bird in the story was a black-feathered one, which served as the villain’s little pet.
This couldn’t be real, could it? Why was this your punishment, of all things? How did the story go again? 
A king and queen had a child, a princess, whose birth was celebrated throughout the entire kingdom. A glittering assemblage of folk from all walks of life, foreign and local, rich and poor, from royalty, nobility, gentry, and even the rabble, were invited to pay homage and revel in the festivities. However, the procession was disrupted by the arrival of an uninvited guest, the Mistress of All Evil, a malevolent fairy, which brought a curse upon the infant princess. A curse which promised death upon the princess. The princess goes into hiding with three good fairies for years, until the curse can pass, but eventually the malevolent fairy does capture both the princess and her betrothed prince. The princess falls into a death-like sleep, and the prince escapes to rescue her. In the process, the antagonist’s avian companion is turned to stone while the malevolent fairy turns into a dragon to face off against the hero in a grand battle, only to be defeated by a holy sword through the heart! 
It caused you to freeze, gulping as you imagined such an end. Stone… You were to be turned to stone! Would that mean instant death, or were to become a prisoner forced to be still and silent until the very end of time or at least until your stone body crumbled to dust? 
A pair of wooden doors flew open, the sudden sound as it slammed against the wall caused you to scream. That, and the appearance of an odd stranger in armor, was enough to make you believe that your end was now and sooner than expected. 
“YOU!” His booming voice nearly ruptured your eardrums as he pointed an accusatory finger. Directing a rather sharp nail, almost as equally sharp as his two front canine teeth which you caught sight of but sharper was the sword sheathed at his hip.
“Me???” You looked at the intimidating stranger, baffled and uneasy. 
The man clad in armor was certainly not a shining knight of goodness or a pure princess blessed by fairies. It became apparent by his pointed nails, sharp teeth, and unnaturally thin pupils that he wasn’t human. What sort of human had slicked back natural mint green hair? 
“Yes, you!! Do not be so dense, human! Who else do you see in this hall?” He stomped up to you, frowning deeply, almost snarling. As he got closer, you realized he was very tall and built like a soldier. At his hip, opposite to his blade, was a mask of dark metal, resembling yours. However, his mask was crafted to resemble a crocodile. “Do not think yourself superior for even a second! You are only valued for the intel you can provide, nothing more, nothing less. Here you are, milling about uselessly while the rest of us search tirelessly for the girl! I shouldn’t have expected anything less from a mortal!” 
Squinting a bit at him, it took a solid second for all those words he spoke to be processed in your mind. Another round of thunder rumbled outside, sounding closer than before. “But… I am stupid?” You smiled a bit awkwardly, watching how the stranger’s face fell with each following word. “Sorry, who are you? I think you have the––” He has the wrong person. Before you could complete that thought, thunder seemed to shake the very walls as its booming clap reverberated throughout the air. 
It was loud, loud enough to startle both yourself and the uncouth bright-eyed one. 
“Have you no decency? You cannot even recall your colleague’s name! It’s Sebek! Sebek! We spoke months ago before departing for the most recent search!” He replied, frustrated that you didn’t remember his name, despite not even meeting before. Was he mistaking you for someone? It’s as if you had been thrust into some sort of role, maybe that’s why he didn’t take you for an intruder. 
“Okay, okay, Sebek. Got it. You don’t need to say it a third time. Please, spare my poor ears.” Raising an eyebrow, you nearly flinched every time he spoke. It’s like he had a megaphone built into his voice box, because he talked in what sounded like shouts. “Also, why are you yelling? I can hear you perfectly fine, you don’t have to be so loud.” 
“Why am I…?” The weirdo, apparently called Sebek, parroted in disbelief as he ran a hand through his mint green hair. His fingers gripping his head, fingers tangled through his own locks. “Why are you still here?! General Vanrouge has requested I look for you because you were absent for an assembly called by the Master! Deliberately missing special councils called by him is deplorable on every level!” Reaching forward, he suddenly caught your arm in an iron grip as he practically dragged you through a maze of corridors until they approached the source of a commotion. 
Better to allow this Sebek character to escort you than refusing and risking him having an aneurysm, you figured. Something in your gut told you to go with it, and don’t immediately bring up the fact that you weren’t who they thought you were, especially now that you had arrived in a room chock full of armed soldiers dressed in a manner similar to Sebek. 
However, all these people had two striking features, slitted pupils and pointed ears. Pointed ears. Definitely not human. Yes, you were stupid, but not stupid enough to expose yourself when you were outnumbered a hundred-to-one. 
“What’s all this––?”
Before you could completely round the corner, you nearly fell back into Sebek as a cloaked figure appeared out of the shadows. They hung from the ceiling, their face in front of yours. A terrifying individual, with thin locks of pitch black and blood red, and a face of a terrifying gnarling beast. “Boo!” 
Wide-eyed, you stared at the figure as you leaned back into Sebek’s arms who didn’t seem as surprised as you. Was this a companion of his? The matching cloak, the similar armor, and… that face of the hanging stranger was metal. A mask. A mask that looked like some horrifying monstrous bat.
Placing a hand on your heart, you closed your eyes and fell back dramatically, playing the part. Your legs went limp, the only thing preventing your form from hitting the cold hard floor was the pair of strong arms holding you up from behind. 
A snicker was the only applause for your small performance, as Sebek jostled you from your act. For some particular reason, Sebek was impatient as he forced you to your feet, but he didn’t dare raise his voice at this surprisingly short figure that somehow floated down from the ceiling like a feather drifting to the ground. 
“This is an entirely serious matter! Lilia–– General, please.” Sebek pleaded, keeping you stuck in place by gripping your shoulders to keep you facing the General. What did Sebek call him earlier? Vanrouge? This was him? 
This Vanrouge character was on the petite side, he hardly looked like a general with his undersized stature and thin limbs. Yet his armor fit him just fine, and on his belt was a great big cleaver that sparkled like jade. Definitely not about to cross him when he had that on his person. 
Cleaver aside, it was really difficult to fear him when he removed his terrifying mask. While yes, his features were far less human than Sebek’s, he was somewhat adorable. When he laughed, you noticed small sharpened fangs while his big crimson red eyes and slitted pupils shined with mirth. Even one of his pale pointed ears appeared to twitch. “I know, I know, but can’t I enjoy one moment of laughter before everything goes to rack and ruin?” 
There was no need to even ask what exactly he meant by that, because again, there was that thundering rumble that shook the very palace walls. It sounded even closer this time, like it was in just the next room over! 
Vanrouge, or rather, Lilia, appeared a bit anxious, jittery as he brushed off his nerves with a quieter laugh. His own hands had gripped your shoulders as Sebek took a step back. “See, this is why you are one of my favorite humans! Mortals are so easygoing and you get my humor.” 
“Thank you? And you’re my favorite…” You paused. What even was he? What were they? In some renditions, there were fairies, but sometimes the creature that was the malevolent fairy and her goons were left a mystery. In one story the malevolent fairy had an army of creatures with animalistic features. Is that what they were supposed to be? It would explain the masks. What if you were wrong? “You’re my favorite little guy.” 
Sebek looked down at you incredulously as if you had insulted his own mother, and you realized far too late that you had quite literally called a General a little guy. However, instead of bringing his cleaver down upon you and splitting you in half or destroying you with some type of wild fantastical twinkly fairy magic, this General only giggled. He giggled, which made you grin like a fool. You had done something right, apparently! 
Deciding against saying the first thought that came to mind, Sebek instead blurted out, “This is the only human you actually talk to! They are the only one among us fae!” 
So that’s what they were. Fae. “Details, details. It still counts.” Lilia dismissed, leading you closer to the very end of the hall where it opened up to a space with more soldiers like him and Sebek. Faes. In a huge spacious room, gathered, listing reports on the results of their scouting missions. Missions likely with the goal of finding the princess. Once there, he placed an arm around your shoulder. Here, his voice was quieter to avoid being heard by the masses. “Come, we know the Master will be in need of some good news right about now, whether you can deliver it or fetch it. It will quell his… irritability. And it may take a human to catch a human. We cannot fully comprehend how your minds work, but perhaps you can understand a fellow mortal’s and finally make this search a success. Go now, courier.” 
Lilia had pushed you out in the open just as the last of the soldiers were wrapping up their report of failed searches. Your dark garbs and metal crow mask had allowed you to blend right in, but it felt like you were a rabbit in a den of ravenous wolves. No one stared at you, because they were far too transfixed on a towering figure not too far from where the General had pushed you. 
As soon as the figure entered your line of vision, you too became just as transfixed as everyone else. Master. This was their master, which could only be the malevolent fairy, fae, in this case. It should have never been possible for someone to have both the facets of a devil but the magnificence of an angel, but he did. Horns as black as night curved atop his head and inky black scales bordered the bases, making it look like a crown while shadows appeared to blend into his robes like fabric weaved of pure darkness devoid of any light. The only light that escaped him came from his eyes, like the common slitted pupils in this crowd yet his eyes glowed an enchanting green like no other. 
It was like a moth to a flame, destined to burn, but you found yourself drawing near behind his dark throne anyways. 
“It’s inconceivable!” He hissed, loud enough so that the entirety of the gathered could hear his voice echo in the space around them. The thunder outside seemed to crack with his every word. The fae, his loyal denizens, shirked back instinctively yet they continued to awe at the malevolent one. “Twenty years, and not a trace of the princess. How is it that this one human, a mortal, has miraculously escaped the vigilant watchful eyes of every one of my most diligent knights and soldiers who have searched all but endlessly, high and low, for two decades? Hm?” 
You kept glued to the wall, the uneven bricks against your back as you attempted to make yourself as small as possible. What were you supposed to do? What could a mortal do against him, the same fae that has the ability to transform into a dragon of immeasurable strength? This fae was the one who would eventually drag you down with him. 
“Humans are numerous, and they are a tricky sort, Your Majesty.” Lilia appeared at the forefront of the throng. Despite the obvious vexation of the horned-one, he continued merrily with an encouraging smile, despite the apprehension of his armored colleagues. “We can’t exactly venture into towns too long without the risk of being discovered or the presence of that pesky iron weakening us. But we make do, and during nights we’ve checked every strip of land from the moors’ borders, to the villages and towns, even the highest mountains. Haven’t we, boys?” 
A murmur of agreement washed over the crowd. For twenty years they had tirelessly searched, and they had no princess to show for their efforts. It wasn’t that the princess disappeared into thin air, this much you could remember. There was a reason they couldn’t find the princess as she dwelled in a cottage deep within the woods with her caretakers, the three good fairies, acting as poor mortal women. What was that reason again…? 
One hand shot up from the crowd, a voice louder than the rest, the familiar voice of Sebek. “Yes, Master Malleus we did! And we will gladly continue our search, comb through every region once more, and check every cradle again all for you to extract your revenge upon the despicable humans and their wicked king!” 
“Cradles…?” The dark fae, apparently named Malleus, directed his widening eyes towards them. His grip tightened on his long twisted wooden staff. You were given the answer as to why they never found the princess within the first years. The faes had forgotten that mortals aged, so the princess they were looking for was no longer a baby in a cradle. 
“Oh no.” Sensing the impending danger, you took cover behind the throne. From behind the throne you peeked out, using the royal seat as a shield. When the towering fae’s green-eyed gaze landed on you by a glance, you stilled like a frozen statue. The hair on the back of your neck raised as your gaze met his. Seeing his eyes become temporarily focused on you, feeling his unholy presence, sensing the incoming disaster he would wrought–– everything about this man, if he even was a man, made alarm bells ring on your head. 
Suddenly, a smile graced his features. It was the sort that masked his frustration simmering beneath the surface. He was close, close enough to reach a hand forward slowly so his fingertips grazed the underside of your chin. Lips curled upward into a menacing grin, but it wasn’t the crazed sort. He was scarily calm as he peered down at you. “Did you hear that, my courier?” 
There were over a hundred pairs of eyes on you at the moment. Watching intently as you leaned back a bit, a chill traveling up your spine as his sharp black nails traced your flesh. You’re sure you were beaming like a simpleton, whether out of instinct or out of some sort of response to your current nerves. Certainly this was how the sailors felt in times of old when confronted by enchanting sirens that lured them to certain doom in watery graves. What were the don’ts regarding fairies and faes of myths? Don’t give your name, don’t lie, and don’t enter the obvious fae traps designed to ensnare curious humans. This must’ve been some sort of fae trap, it had to when he had a face like that. 
Was Malleus addressing you directly because you were the only human in the room? “Yes… Loud and clear.” One corner of your mouth twitched into an awkward smile in return, but you found yourself unable to remove your eyes from his. A brief and quiet chuckle left your lips, “It’s… kinda funny.” 
“Isn’t it?” When he removed his fingers from your chin, you nearly tumbled forward, but you managed to successfully catch yourself before you could crash into him. The fae turned around, beginning to chuckle in his deep voice, a sound which echoed in the tense silence of the packed throne room. “For all these years I have been waiting, and they have been looking for a baby.” 
The General, Lilia, was perhaps the first to realize something was amiss when the Master of All Evil began to laugh. Vanrouge seemed like the type to enjoy a laugh, but this wasn’t just a moment to crow about their recent failings. A moment of clarity dawned on him while his colleagues unsurely joined in on the commotion. Your gaze met his and you frantically shook your head as Sebek rapidly clasped his hands over his mouth in shock and regret upon realizing their mistake and his blunder. You tried to signal them to flee while you yourself retreated further back behind the throne for cover. 
It was just in the nick of time too, as the air began to fizzle with static electricity, growing with every passing second as his laugh became less humorous and more diabolical. There was the same lightning from before but instead of being outside, it sounded as if it was inside these very walls. Crashing and striking every second, one, two, three, four, five, shaking the castle. You felt your eardrums vibrate as you continued to brace yourself behind the throne until it stopped. This was your first true taste of utter terror and helplessness. 
Here you were for a reason, to die, either by stone or before, whether it be by the clubs of the fae soldiers, at the sharp end of a holy sword, or between the maws of the Master of All Evil. It felt like an eternity, but it was likely under a minute, when the destruction ended. Trembling slightly, you peeked out to survey the damage. 
It was a harsh reminder of your current plight. There were no bodies laying motionless, as everyone either had the means to defend themselves or Malleus simply wasn’t aiming for any of them in his burst of anger. The throne room had been largely evacuated thanks to General Lilia and Sebek. Only shields and the occasional weapon were left behind in the hurry to avoid being struck by his wrath, dark spots were ingrained where the lightning struck the ground, a few stones tumbled loose from any walls that were hit as collateral damage. 
If you somehow survived this, it would be no less than a miracle.
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filibusterfrog · 3 months ago
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Hi there!
I was screaming about this to a friend and then realised I should also send it to your face, bc why talk nicely about someone behind their back when you could also let them in on it!
Your art is incredible and always brings a smile to my face, I remember many years back when I was a lil 13 year old coming across some of your art that was stolen and reposted on pinterest and being instantly captivated and spending an hour finding one with your watermark so I could look you up.
Your art was a major turning point for me in going from just copying how to draw anime books in my local library to trying to figure out what sort of style I wanted to draw in and learning more of the fundamentals. I recently raved in a friend's DMs about your art and character design and they told me they could absolutely still see a bunch of your influences in my art and characters to this day, even over half a decade on, as well as countless costumes for larp.
Your art has always inspired me, and for years now, whenever I have art block (and I remember), I'll scroll through your art and remember what I like about doing art and think what I want to create, rather than getting caught up in what I feel like I should make.
Your art indirectly linked me in with amazing communities, and the best people I have ever met. Seeing your art during the bushfires was a huge comfort to me, it was a scary and terrible time and seeing someone else sharing my feelings and making them visible in a way I couldn't do yet was so helpful to me in ways I can't describe.
This has been long and overly sappy, but know that your art made an impact on a little 13 year old who felt alone, who's now an adult with a strong community.
Please look after yourself, and know that even if you never make anything ever again, you've still touched people's lives for the better.
hello anon! ive been rereading this ask almost daily since you sent it :) thank you very much for letting me know, there are few things i like better than people telling me that my work means something to them.
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stellar-skyy · 11 months ago
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NO TEARS LEFT — Platonic Arlecchino & reader.
i. SUMMARY: It was well-known that the Knave hated tears. ii. CONTENT WARNINGS: None! iii. NOTES: STRICTLY PLATONIC, hurt/comfort, found family, house of the hearth!reader, gn!reader, they/them pronouns used, 1k words. iv. A/N: Is this ooc? Who knows! I'm choosing to believe Arlecchino is a strict but loving parent, so that is what I went with here. Hoyoverse, don’t make her an irredeemable villain please and thank you.
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Crying was a rarity within the House of the Hearth.
It was perhaps odd for a place that housed dozens of children—their ages stretching between those barely able to walk, to those on the cusp of adulthood—to not hear at least a few sobs every now and then. But more often than not, the House was still, existing in an almost suffocating peacefulness. There were sounds; a rare echo of laughter from somewhere three halls down, or the steady drone of siblings talking over the top of each other, but never tears.
Occasionally though, a low cry will sound somewhere within the halls, and all close by will freeze. They will turn to the child—it was always someone new, who hadn’t been accustomed to the ways of the House yet—and hush them, whispering fervently:
Father hates tears.
Lynette was the kindest in telling the poor souls. She would wipe the streaks of tears off their cheeks with the cuff of her sleeve, shushing them gently. “Keep your voice down. Father hates crying children.”
Some of the older children were a little harsher in their reaction, elbowing the newcomer until they shut their mouths with a click, and let the tears drip silently down their face.
Every member who had been there long enough to be scolded at least once by Father knew the rules, and knew to keep their emotions locked away inside until they were either alone or dead. They didn’t dare to think of what would happen to them, should they dare to show such weakness.
The hunched figure that sat at the top of the stairs with their legs pressed against their chest was no new arrival, and yet tears had begun to slowly drip across their cheeks.
A click reverberated across the walls, and their head snapped up at the sound. They craned their neck backwards, while the clicking continued: the telltale sound of the Knave’s heels clacking against tiles. Instantly they were on their feet, scrubbing furiously at their eyes. The sounds grew louder, their posture stiffened, and their hands withdrew from their face right as the Knave turned the corner.
“Father,” they crowed, praying to the Tsaritsa that their voice was level.
“My child.” She responded in turn. Her eyes swept across them for a moment, and their eyes flicked to the floor instinctively. She continued down the hall at her usual pace, and it looked like she was about to move past them and down the stairs. Inwardly, they breathed a sigh of relief. It was a close call, but they would be in the clear once she stepped past—
A clawed hand caught their chin, tilting it upwards. Father twisted it gently to the left, then the right, observing the redness of their eyes and faint shininess on their cheeks. “You have been crying. What is wrong?”
And with that, any semblance of composure shattered.
A sharp draw of breath was their only warning before their throat closed up, and more tears trickled down, like they had never stopped in the first place. Sniffles left their lips first, soon followed with gasps and cries that echoed through the foyer. Father’s face turned blank, and the tears only fell faster at her reaction.
“I’m sorry—” they choked out between hitching breaths. “I-I’m sorry, Father.”
Father hated tears. Father hated seeing crying children, she hated—
“Hush now,” Father hummed, letting go of their face. They shrank back against the wall, shielding their face with their hands, as if that would do anything to stop her from seeing just how pathetic they were.
“I’m so sorry,” they repeated hoarsely.
“No apologies, dear.”
She paused for a beat of silence, letting them try to pull themself together.
“Do you know why I dislike tears?” Father asked quietly.
“Because crying is a sign of emotion.” They murmured mechanically, repeating the words the older residents drilled into their skull the day they arrived. “And emotion is a sign of weakness.”
“That is partially true.” Father agreed, tapping her cheek rhythmically with her nail. “As a member of the Fatui, you will be faced with many adversaries. You cannot afford unnecessary emotion; not when it earns you a target on your back.”
She paused to swipe a stray tear from their chin with her nail, wiping it on a handkerchief and continuing.
“It is dangerous out there for you, and I have a duty to train my children to be able to withstand the treachery that they will no doubt encounter. I do not tell you emotions are a weakness because I am cruel. I tell you it is a weakness because it is. You must learn young to control them; lest it cost your life.”
“I-I understand, Father.” They said in a strangled tone.
“I’m not finished,” She chided softly, without any real irritation behind it. “While out there, concealing such emotion is a strength, there isn’t a necessity to do so certain times. When you are in a place of safety, such is the time to let it out.”
Father extended her arms out in a clear invitation. Their eyes widened in shock, but they didn’t hesitate to fall forward into her waiting arms, letting themself be drawn tightly against her chest. Their hands grabbed fistfuls of the back of her coat, while she traced circles across their shoulder blades in a soothing motion.
“You are safe, my child.” Father crooned, dipping her head low to kiss the top of their head. “While you are here, there is no one to harm you.”
No one…
With arms strong enough to hold the weight of the world circling their waist, and nails that were sharp enough to tear out a person’s throat drawing lines up and down their back to sooth them, they believed her easily. She held them there for what had to have only been a minute, letting them sob into the front of her coat, clinging to her until their cries evened out into nothing.
And in that quiet moment, all they could comprehend was the soft, steady feeling that they are loved.
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reblogs and comments are appreciated! ♡
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silkval · 1 year ago
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trans aether... with questions I, IV, VIII, X, and XII. please be gentle, i adore soft sex
♠】 find out what goes on behind the scenes with the darling of your choice!
send an ask with the name of your darling and the question numbers you would like answered, and you will get your request!☆
》 content desc/warnings
aether is hinted to be smaller than reader, nipple play (aether receiving), very very fluffy sex and so so many kisses, reader can be interpreted with any genitalia, aether cries the first time, use of the nickname ‘sweetheart’, reader is an absolute gentleman, aether is a pretty boy canon
★fujoshis, wlm and minors please fuck off- you will be blocked★
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Ⅰ 》 what act of affection do they perform the most?
aether just loves it when he gets to cling to your side- whether it is simply just letting his fingers entwine with yours as you two rested in bed, or snuggling into your side on a cold winters day- which would always be made better when you looped an arm around his narrow shoulders with a content hum. your presence just made him feel safe- completely and utterly at peace with your warm frame to sidle up to.
Ⅳ 》 what is the one kink they have they will never admit they have?
…well, the poor thing didn't exactly do a good job of hiding it- but, nipple play. my god, it was so, so obvious that it was just adorable when your deft fingers grazed over aethers flushed chest whilst tangled in your sheets, drawing out the prettiest, high whine from the smaller male beneath you that you just could not ignore- eliciting a quiet chuckle in adoration at the sight of his flustered face, yet only pressing a reassuring kiss against the tip of his nose as your hand smoothed over the soft plains of his chest, the pads of your fingers rubbing and pinching gently at the pinked skin- which soon became a common occurrence each time you two made love.
Ⅷ 》 what is aftercare with them like?
honestly, aftercare with aether is just the best. even if it was a quick round before bed, or when hours had passed by from how much you just got lost in each other- aftercare with aether would last days. it would start with just holding each other- sweaty bodies collapsed and panting, still entwined and breathless yet unable to muffle the quiet, lovestruck laugh reverberating from both of you as you met eyes, still hazy as you met with soft kisses just to calm down and eventually falling asleep, his smaller body splayed atop yours or curled snug into your side as your arms encircled his bare figure still draped in the slightly damp, silken sheets. with the following morning, you would aid him in getting up- greeting him with a quick peck to the forehead, fetching him a glass of water and something small to eat before making sure he was alright and already going to run a bath for both of you to clean up in. and oh, aether just adored how you handled aftercare- ever the gentleman, as the days that followed consisted in touches even more gentle than usual and the occasional “you alright, love?” just to make sure he was all happy and healthy- which he always was, with you.
Ⅹ 》 were they a virgin before they met you
surprisingly, yes. with such a pretty face and the absolute joy of a soul that he is, he certainly got a lot of attention- that's for sure, but he never… clicked with anyone- until you, of course. he always had this subtle urge, this hidden desire for the act of lovemaking- even thinking about how intimate it would be, how wonderful it would be to come together with absolute trust and enjoyment of each others bodies just makes him all heart-eyed and blushy- oh, and he absolutely let a few tears slip when you first had sex; he had never felt anything like it before, just pure, pure absolution with you- and he couldn't want anything more.
Ⅻ 》 what pet names do they enjoy hearing?
loves loves loves being called sweetheart- absolutely drives the poor boy mad with how flustered and smiley he gets. even if it's just a mere “c’mere, sweetheart,” as you're guiding him through a busy street with a hand on the small of his back, or a breathy utterance of praise against the shell of his ear as your bodies combined in utter bliss- you damn bet you'll see his pretty, pinked lips curve upward into his signature smile.
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ahh thank you sm for this ask!!! this was an absolute pleasure to write as its my first writing of aether and my god. i get the hype💙
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television-overload · 4 months ago
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fate is the handspike
(an X-Files ficlet)
[Read on AO3]
Summary:
Starting on February 23, 1964, Teena Mulder begins to worry about her young son. At first, she thinks maybe he's wishing for a little sister, a wish that will be granted very soon. But he insists the little girl he talks to is called Dana, and she's too little to play, but she likes when he reads his books to her.
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(fic below the cut)
i.
At first, Teena thinks it's cute.
"She's just a baby, mommy, she can't play yet," he'd say.
"Oh, is that right?" she'd reply, indulging him in his childish fantasies. Perhaps this was his way of asking for a sister. The other moms in the neighborhood often urged her to give Fox a sibling, citing a child's need for company and social engagement, but Fox had always seemed so happy to play alone. She's not on the best of terms with her husband at the moment, either, which complicates things.
But then there's times when she sees Fox on the floor, legs splayed out before him as he recites his favorite picture books to his imaginary friend, and she wonders if she ought to be worried. Just a little.
Dr. Seuss, Curious George, Clifford the Big Red Dog... The boy has a photographic memory. Though he's too young to properly read, he has a grasp on the basic plots and recounts them in great detail, turning the pages as he goes.
"This one is called 'Where the Wild Things Are,' Dana," he says, because his friend's name—he insists—is Dana. He turns the book in his hand and shows the colorful illustration on the cover to a patch of carpet on the living room floor. "Don't worry, it's not scary," he assures her. Her. It. Whatever it is he's spent his days talking to since late February.
When he tells the story, he uses his own name, instead of 'Max.' That's how she'd always read it to him, and that's the only way he knows.
"And Fox told the monsters to be still!" he narrates with enthusiasm. "He used a magic trick and looked right in their BIG yellow eyes, and they were all scared. They said Fox is the most wild thing of all, and they made him king!"
ii.
There was one night when she'd woken to find Fox standing in the corner of his room, speaking softly to the wall.
"Shh, it's okay, Dana," he soothed in his little voice. "Here, I'll sing you a song. Twinkle twinkle little star...."
She never tells Bill what she's seen. He's always too busy to notice himself. But others know.
"He's quite an imaginative young fellow," Spender notes, taking a draw from his cigarette as Fox rolls around in the grass outside the house in Quonochontaug. Since "Dana" learned to crawl, he's been even more preoccupied than usual. He shows her all his toys, tells her the names of all his action figures. He announces to his mother one day that he's going to teach Dana how to walk. That she can only stand on her own for a little bit right now, but she doesn't cry anymore when she falls down.
Bill, if he ever catches wind of this, must think he's talking about one of the other kids from Teena's ladies' group. But there's no "Dana" in this neighborhood. Not on the Vineyard, either. She's checked.
iii.
The day she finds out she's pregnant, a part of her wonders. Though her knowledge of her husband's work is small, she knows enough to gather that things she might have thought impossible, could in fact be possible. Perhaps her son had been having visions of his baby sister, long before she was even conceived. Maybe it had simply been a sign that he would one day be a big brother. Soon.
She'd long since dispelled thoughts of ghosts and hauntings and exorcisms.
He tells Dana all about the baby in mommy's tummy. He giggles and makes silly faces, pausing in between sentences, which she gathers must mean his friend has developed the ability to speak.
"Mommy, she said my name! That's right! Fox! Fox!"
iv.
When Samantha is born, "Dana" seems to disappear overnight. This, at least, supports her theory that he had simply been preparing himself for a new sibling, and after a few years, she's completely dismissed the issue. Fox shows no other signs of strange or unusual behavior. He is nothing but a doting big brother, who occasionally gets annoyed by his freckle-faced kid sister, as any brother is wont to do. He reads to her, plays games with her, watches the television with her. They're two peas in a pod, and not once does the name "Dana" escape his lips. She is all but forgotten.
Until he's twelve years old. Samantha is gone, and Teena lacks the patience to deal with his questioning.
"Mom? Does the name 'Dana' mean anything to you?" he asks.
"What? Of course not, Fox, why would you ask such a thing?"
He looks down at his feet, shoulders slumping. "No reason. Forget I asked."
v.
When Fox lays awake at night, the bedroom next to his now dull and empty, he thinks he can hear a voice. It isn't Samantha's—though he'd thought so at first.
"By heaven, man," she reads, "we are turned round and round in this world, like yonder windlass, and Fate is the handspike. And all the time, lo! that smiling sky, and this unsounded sea!"
What does this girl know about fate? What does she know of this upside-down world?
"Read the next chapter, Dana!" he hears another girl's voice speak. The words are faint—muffled—like he's underwater. But her voice is clear.
He falls asleep, like most nights, listening to the tales of Ahab and Starbuck, and a great white whale.
-.-.-
Tag List ♡: @today-in-fic @agent-troi @baronessblixen @captainsolocide @cutemothman @deathsbestgirl @edierone @enigmaticxbee @figureofdismay @frogsmulder @hippocampouts @invidiosa @numinousmysteries @randomfoggytiger @skelavender @teenie-xf @thursdayinspace
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manager-dante · 2 years ago
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i need to flesh this out once i’ve mulled it over more but i adore how limbus company expands on the incredible world-building of project moon, because it is so goddamn realistic.
from the outset the player is presented with this incredibly bleak world in which corporations have become the state. the poor and the desperate bow their heads and toil at the altar of the free market. worth is measured by talent in exploitation. it’s a social darwinist’s wet dream. i also think the choice to base the cast off of literary figures was amazing, because it highlights very important connections to the past. i haven’t read all the books referenced, but the ones i have (the metamorphosis, don quixote de la mancha, & the odyssey so far) draw an unmistakable through-line from the suffering and exploitation depicted in those books to that which occurs in the city. the most horrifying parts of this game in my opinion aren’t the monsters or the machines — it’s the sheer enormity of human suffering which exists in the economic and political system the city operates under. and that’s the worst part, because in so many ways, the suffering and exploitation portrayed in the city is not a hypothetical fantasy — this is just capitalism working as intended. it’s not confined to the historical context of those books, nor the gritty sci-fi horror of the game.
but not only do we have this incredible setting that’s somehow both brutally realistic and fantastical at the same time, we also get to see how our main cast attempts to survive in that world — and ultimately how none of their attempts to change it succeeded at all.
in my mind, canto i portrays how neither kindness nor cold-heartedness will help you survive — especially through the dynamic between aya and hopkins. gregor has been both. he was a war hero in a meaningless war. after it ended, he was discarded as any tool which had outlived its usefulness would be. he can’t even control his arm from becoming a killing machine. and yet, gregor is still exceptionally personable, even going out of his way to be kind at times. but no matter whether he’s a tool for violence in the hands of war profiteers or simply a man doing his best to protect others, he still couldn’t save yuri — just as he couldn’t save his comrades — and this clearly haunts him. neither the war nor its end changed anything.
canto ii shows between rodya and sonya how both direct action and an “inevitable” revolution fail to quell the suffering of the vulnerable. sonya’s revolution is all bluster and no action. he does nothing to help the people in his community in favor of this grandiose revolution that must happen at the “right moment” — even if it means leaving his neighbors to starve in the meantime. rodya’s inspired yet short-sighted action to remove what she saw as the source of her community’s suffering only led to its destruction: the tax collector was a branch, not the root, of the problem, and killing one person did nothing to stop the system which upheld them.
canto iii is even more clear-cut in the ties between sinclair and kromer: neither violent zealotry nor blissful ignorance will save you in the city. kromer’s cult does not “purify” anything, but sinclair’s courage to stand up to her isn’t enough to beat her either. canto iii still doesn’t end in a victory. dante and the sinners barely survive. it’s only through demian (and k-corp’s) divine intervention that the sinners and kromer don’t destroy each other in the corpse pit.
in the most recent addition, canto iv appears to do the same thing. on one hand, you have the devotion to a principle shown through shrenne, samjo, and donbaek. their causes are different, but their devotion is the same. on the other, there is the cynicism, indifference, and escapism of yi sang and dongrang, both willingly complicit in the machine in different ways. and yet — none of them make any positive difference. whether they resisted or submitted, the machine grinds on around them — the only choices are to become a cog in it or be ground to bits by its gears.
to be clear, i do not think the game is arguing that none of these individual actions matter. even if gregor couldn’t rescue yuri, even if rodya couldn’t protect her neighbors, even if sinclair couldn’t defeat kromer and all that she stood for, even if the league of nine members each failed to realize their ideals — limbus argues that it matters they tried. it matters that they’re still trying. it may never be possible to oust the corporate overlords and make the city a better place, but the love still matters.
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where-does-the-heart-lie · 7 months ago
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GOD chapter 59 was SO GOOD n i have a lot to say so sending an ask instead of leaving it on the post.
i /love/ when you make things hyper detailed, because your shading techniques are so much fun to sit n stare at and soak in for a while. that being said, the coloring of the wine spilling is what does it for me this time. it still would have been really cool in bw, but not as cool as seeing all the shades of red over the dark blue bg. you did the glass really well too!! I don't think there's a noticeable difference between the wine color inside and outside the glass which is fine bc it's clear, so it RLY makes me appreciate the lighting you have around the glass rim to show the edge in contrast. that tiny little detail makes the image for me. stellar work. i love it
also i do wanna throw in appreciation for the handwritten serif. super well done at first glance it did look like you'd jus typed it out. idk what texture you have on the brush you use for words but it's rly nice to look at up close.
i think the color kinda tipped me off but i waffled bc i couldn't remember if either of his parents spoke in serif font and was a bit daunted to dig thru 50+ chapters to confirm who it was if it didn't turn out to be them. i'm glad i looked at your tags tho haha saved me the trouble. what a way to end the act too!! i read this one on my phone and was scrolling thru the images at full size and after four or so i kept expecting it to cut off. it was a very pleasant surprise to have it keep going, worth the wait to have a longer chapter :)
maybe it jus wasn't meant to be a la sabo getting the letter from sally. it might have to be stelly after all tho there are things that come before then. what a bad time to have one or both of his parents speak to him for the first time that night. oof can't wait for the next act lets goooo
Oh wowww what a beautifully long review!
Thanks so much im glad you like how it turned out, i’m really happy with it, too! Ive never drawn fluids like this before, but i really needed this page to have that extra kick because it was such a short one.
Because i couldnt figure out how to make this moment look slow mo with multiple different panels on one page, I really wanted to make a piece that is like,, frozen in time instead.
A page like this, you can keep on it as long as you’d like. You can make it as slow mo as you want it to be.
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The serif lettering is that of outlook’s!
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I dont know if you can see the difference between this and my usual handwriting, but it’s supposed to look taller. Higher up. Neater. Cleaner. (Still my handwriting though so like so actually neat or clean, but you know like,,, in comparison to the norm.)
His dad only talks in one scene, and his mother has never said anything yet, so i dont blame you if you couldnt find it. In my. Large repertoire of chapters ive accumulated.
I definitely felt the same about the pages when drawing them. But probably the opposite feeling lol. Mine was more like “ugh i forgot theres so many. How many more of these do I have to get through??? How did i do this the first act ending with 11 pages???”
Im so glad you guys are on the edge of your seats with the letter :)
Thanks for the ask!
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dovesdreaming · 5 months ago
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Hihihi!! This a kinda specific request that might not make sense but im gonna try anyway (ive like never requested anything so this also might be bad in general). Could you possibly make a Bucky Barnes or Tony Stark with a gn!reader with powers that are kinda like Hecate kids in the pjo universe (necromancy, umbrakinesis, bone control, ect) reader is like a kid who just wants their ded family back.
Family drawings
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Hi thank you for your request it was amazing don’t worry! I’m sorry if it doesn’t all sound like a kid reader I’ve never written for one before! I hope you enjoy it I feel like I could have written this better <3
Not proofread
Word count: 1.1k
Warnings: talk of blood, violence
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It was your average low level mission for the avengers, raiding an empty hydra base for any files they had left behind. They were more careful going into these bases now as they have had one too many blow up on them. Steve was the mission leader as usual and he was the first to scope out the area before sending the rest in. Clint and Natasha searched the outer buildings while Steve and Bucky searched the two first floors of the main building. Steve sent Tony to search the basement while Bruce stayed in the jet, ready for any medical emergencies.
Everything had been going smoothly, the comms was filled with chatter instead of orders. No one had found anything yet but they hadn’t finished searching. Tony was still in the basement doing his usual shenanigans, listening to AC/DC instead of comms. He wasn’t paying much attention knowing this area never had anything in from previous missions. He thought this particular basement looked worse for wear than some of the others he had seen. Chills ran through him as he saw child like drawings on some of the walls, they showed families holding hands and some writing that he wasn’t able to make out. He was slightly more creeped out than usual but he carried on, he turned around and continued to look around. It was quite dark and most of the wall edges were covered in darkness so when he made a figure out in one of the car corners he thought he was just seeing things. Yet as he moved closer he started to believe it may be someone more and more. They had a smaller frame and looked quite malnourished. They were sat with the head covered by their knees unmoving. Tony approached and crouched down a bit as to not scare them. Yet it didn’t seem to work as they lifted their head they scrambled away from Tony as best as they could but he had affectively trapped them in a corner. He heard a quiet strained plee of “please don’t hurt me”. It managed to send a pang of hurt through Tony’s heart, which not many things did.
Your perspective-
You had a happy childhood up until you were seven when a heavy bang came from the front door of your house one day. Men in big protective gear that covered any defining features stormed in the house, your parents trying to shield you while telling them there must be a mistake, they hadn’t done anything. Yet nothing seemed to work they were adamant they wanted you and your parents couldn’t allow that so they tried to protect you which sadly cost them their lives. You had been carried away while crying and thrashing by one of the dark men. You didn’t have anything from your childhood your last memory being a glance back into your house, seeing your parents covered in red.
It had been a while since then, you didn’t even know how long. You hadn’t seen the outside world or the sun in years. Hydra had taken you as you possessed special attributes which lended to experiments they wanted to carry out. These experiments had turned you into a weapon, they were halfway through training you when you didn’t cooperate with them anymore. You had enough of their beatings and abuse so you used the powers they gave you against them. They abandoned the mission and left you there to starve. You could have gone outside the base but you were too scared to venture into the outside world alone. You didn’t know what the outside was like anymore. So you sat scrunched up in the corner with a rumbling stomach and heart ache from missing your parents. You had scared yourself a lot by accidentally casting shadows as you didn’t know how to fully control your powers yet. You sat there alone waiting but you didn’t know what for.
You had remained in the basement where they left you until now when you were staring wide eyed at a robot. Or what you thought was a robot until he opened his mask. He promised he would help you but you didn’t know if you could trust him he could just be another version of hydra. He just asked you to follow him outside at least to meet the rest of them. So you tentatively followed behind him, keeping your distance.
As you came up the steps you were met with sunlight for the first time in a while. You were also met with the faces of the other avengers they didn’t look mean like hydra did but you were still scared.
-
They had taken you back to the avengers tower and fed you a good meal, you felt safe for the first time in ages. You didn’t trust them yet but you thought they were better than hydra.
It had been a few weeks since you arrived at the tower and everyone had welcomed you like their own child. Tony took particular interest in you. You liked to sit in his lab with him, quietly watching him work. You had even danced to his music on many occasions which made him laugh. Most nights you fell asleep in his lab and when he turned around to ask you a question he would realise and stop what he was doing to carry you up to bed. This had helped him improve his sleep schedule aswell going to bed after tucking you into yours. Tonight after he tucked you in he noticed drawings on your table. He picked them up and looked through them noticing how they were similar to the ones he saw in the basement, drawings of happy families with disproportionate limbs. He sadly smiled until he looked at the last one. It was a drawing of a man in a robot suit holding the hand of a small child. Arrows pointed towards the man scribbled out Tony. His heart melted, something he thought he was incapable of. Tony vowed to protect you like his own from that day on and that he did. He trained you how to use your powers but not to be a weapon but to protect others. However every now and then your powers took control of you due to hydras faulty work and it led you to conjure evil shadows of hydra men and your parents. It pained him to see you in such a state afterwards, all he could do for you was hold you to calm you down.
You grew up surrounded by a loving makeshift family, while you still missed your parents you were grateful for everyone around you. Tony had become a father figure to you over the years and you still spent nights together in his lab, you now helping him work on things and even creating your own inventions. You also used your powers to defeat hydra with the rest of the avengers and any bone injuries the team acquired you were always called over to heal them. You were proud of how far you had come from when you were in that basement, you were seen as a protector now instead of a weapon and you couldn’t have done it without the help of the team but especially Tony. You were always grateful looking back on the day he found you in that basement.
Everyone had also noticed Tony soften over the years, he especially had a soft spot for you and the team would use that to their advantage. They saw how he became a better person because of you.
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Thank you for reading!
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wowa-bublord · 10 months ago
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Bubby!!! You know me, I'm gonna ask about Sephiroth
Where is Seph in your au? Is he still crazy about Cloud? Is he crazy about Zack and Cloud? Or Zack living just negated everything and now he is not crazy at all and he like... opens a bakery or something
I need to know 🥺
NUBE!!!! HI!!!! THIS IS SOMETHING IVE BEEN THINKING ABOUT. but i haven't decided yet.... on one hand, i love sephiroth and i want him to be happyyyyehfghdsj 😭 on the other hand, Sephiroth is obviously an important part of the story and taking him out as a villain would cause a big affect on it
I'm gonna use this ask as a drawing board here to write down some ideas. My first thought is that Zack could be the one with the sephiroth pilled brain. and there are two main ways i see him reacting to it. With #1 being the ignorer. He doesn't tell anyone and keeps it to himself, knowing how badly cloud and tifa were affected and feeling like the way hearing about what he's experiencing would affect them much worse than him dealing with it himself
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And Idea two: Sephiroth would work as an in-universe representation of Zacks guilt over Angeal, genesis, and Sephiroth. His presence in visions would be not just a real thing happening, but story-wise it'd be able to help show visually how much Zack is struggling under the weight of his trauma
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Redeeming Sephiroth could be an interesting arc, but this is post nibelheim, and he's sort of under Jenovas grip right now, already having abandoned most of himself into the lifestream. Is there anything left to be redeemed? And also...
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its probably not a task to be done with tifa and clouds involvement.
we could go with the og story and have him haunting Cloud. who is also a chronic ignorer
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Really the route this au goes depends on how much I change from the og story from this point onward.. to be honest I've only figured out zack and clouds recovery, I'm still shuffling through the main story events, though I'm thinking I'm gonna rewatch a gameplay on rebirth part 1 and take notes on what I think would change if zack was there (in place of cloud at some parts)
maybe sephiroth brings all of himself back from the lifestream and opens a bakery far away from everyone else and works through his issues and his guilt away from the cast... but that'd be hard to show in my aus story.
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jamiedc-they-them · 8 months ago
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Good People Part IV: Safety in Numbers (Platonic)
Summary: A new friend joins you on your travel for this infamous head. A vault gives you a moment of safety. But, like always, the world comes crashing down around you. But this time, it's not just you that it collapses for.
Episodes 5/6/7.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3
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"Should we wake them up?" Maximus, the Knight you had saved - and the one who had saved Lucy - asks as he sees you slumped against a pillar, eyes shut. It hasn't been too long since he had gotten out and saved your friend, and yet you found yourself drifting off.
Lucy looks back to you, You look peaceful. For once, you don't look at war with yourself.
There's a feeling she has inside. For a moment, it reminds her of how she is with her brother - loving, protective; but most of all, accepting.
"I think a few more minutes won't hurt them. I think they need it. Haven't really seen them rest yet."
Maximus nods. He knows he needs the head and all, but he can also understand Lucy's reasoning. This place isn't kind to anyone, and having your guard down isn't the greatest thing. But, you do seem to need it at this moment. That, and you did save him, so.
Lucy gets him to agree to have you both accompany him to find the head. 'Safety in numbers' she says. He can't exactly argue with that; after all, without you two, he'd still be in the suit - or dead.
Maximus packs up his things. Lucy gets up and approaches you, crouching down in front of you. She lightly taps you on the arm.
"Y/N. Y/N, wake up," she says, keeping her voice soft. She keeps her taps quick, respecting the boundary with touch.
You jolt, then seem to calm down as you open your eyes. The first thing you do, she clocks, is check the area around you both.
She smiles, "made good on my promise," she teases, "no urination for you, my friend."
Friend. It feels nice to say it now and know it goes both ways. You're friends. Maybe Maximus can be one, too. Still, one step at the time.
You snort, eyes softening as you look to her, "that you did," you say, standing up - she mirrors you - as you then stretch a bit, "thank you."
"I should really be the one thanking you," she says, "it's you who got me the help."
You shrug off the thanks - still not there with that, it seems; ok, she can work with that - and roll your shoulders, "was all the Knight. I just got him out of the suit."
She wants to argue in your honour, but doesn't. Like said before, she can work with this. Baby steps.
"We're gonna be travelling with him," she says to you, "he needs the head too. So, I figured, someone else looking out for us can't hurt, right?"
You don't seem too sure at first, then nod.
You all go on your way, Lucy asking about what had happened in the last 200 years, as if either of you can summarise that.
"People in charge did what they always do," you say, "they chose power over lives."
"Sounds a bit like a red to me," Maximus says.
You shrug once again, "maybe. Still, ain't exactly patriots out here to shoot me for it."
Lucy looks at you concerned, Maximus shakes his head. You're an odd one, but you're honest. So, he respects that.
You come to a bridge, with two people on the other side. Lucy tries to calm the situation down. You and Maximus, seemingly reading each other, get ready. You stand in front, no weapons, but you'll go down first and give him time to draw.
It works, and part of you believes that it just might work, too. But, the inevitable happens; the fiends see the pipboy on Lucy's arm, and they draw. Your instinct was correct; Maximus draws Lucy's weapon, and gets a shot off. A shot hits his arm, you move Lucy back, just to be safe - it all happens quick, but you still manage too - and he then fires the second round off.
"I hate it up here," Lucy laments.
"Don't we all," you say, looking to Maximus, "your arm ok?"
"It's nothing."
"It's not nothing," Lucy protests, "you've been shot!"
"I'll be fine," he says, "let's just keep going."
Lucy looks to you. You sigh, nodding at your friend, before looking to the Knight:
"Look," you say, "we'll keep going," you put a finger up to stop Lucy before she says anything and continue, "but, we'll also keep a look out for a stimpack, or something for that wound, ok?"
Maximus nods, going with the diplomatic solution.
"See?" you say, "not so bad for a red, huh?" Maximus snorts at your tease. He shakes his head. Sure, he'd probably disagree with a lot of your views on things, but you're good as a person - hell, you gave him the space he needed for that interaction. He decides then and there to trust you.
The three of you continue. You reach Shady Sands, and Maximus tells you about how he was from here. He was a survivor, and how the Brotherhood gave him a purpose.
You might fully like the Brotherhood - at least in what you've seen; a company like that with brutality will always go wrong in your eyes - but Maximus is a good man, even if tortured.
You look from the massive hole, to Lucy. To your friend who gave you a purpose - at least for a little bit. You gulp.
You were bad luck. Hell, you even hit your head when Lucy first said 'hello' to you. You're a magnet for trouble. Yet, she stuck with you. Fought for you in your honour. She stuck by you when others would've left.
You find what you think is a hospital. Lucy enters, you follow, then Maximus does.
You split up, trying to find what you can.
You find some caps. Maybe your luck really is turning.
You hear a scream. Lucy's scream. You run out, back into the lobby area, and barge through a door...only to find that apparent adjoining one is fake.
You feel the floor give out from under you...
You wake up in a startle. For once, no dreams haunting you.
"Good, you're up," you hear a voice say. You turn, alert. It's a woman. She holds up her hands, "look, I understand the concern," she says, "but, we're not a threat. We're not a threat. We have your other friends. They asked about you."
So, they're alive, you know that at least.
"You're Y/N, right?" the woman asks. You nod, now noticing the blue jumpsuit...there's no way, "I'm Birdie," she says to you.
You approach the window, and look out at everything. It's all so clean and...nice. Everyone smiles.
You look back to Birdie, who seems to be waiting for you to ask, "are we -- I mean...is - is this a -"
"A Vault?" she asks, smile on her face - seems your instinct was right, "it is," she confirms, nodding as well.
You nod, taking it all in.
"Now," Birdie says, we kept you in there to make sure you weren't radiated or anything. But, all seems clear. You're free to see your friends. We'll get some food in you, then show you to your room."
"My room?"
She nods again, "welcome to Vault 4."
You are let out, and look over the railing at the place. It's like a community all onto itself.
Lucy spots you, and instantly beams, calling out your name and giving a wave. You wave back, before making your way down to join them.
Lucy gets up, and gives you a hug. You stumble a bit, but soon find yourself being ok with it.
"I'm glad you're ok," Lucy says.
You tap her on the back, and she pulls away - seemingly understanding your code language for 'too much'. She nods, "come eat."
You sit down, Maximus and you sharing a nod. Birdie, and then Ben - the overseer, come over and introduce themselves. You cant help, though, but notice Ben's one massive eye. No one else seems to bat on eye. And, hell, you've seen your fair share of mutations out in the Wasteland - as Maximus says, it happens. But, Lucy seems more disturbed.
You, however, let yourself feel a positive emotion for once - it doesn't feel natural to you - and it's a feeling of safety.
"Lucy," you say, "we're in a vault, that's gotta be something, right?"
"I - I want it to be," Lucy says, "but...Y/N, my Vault fell. I don't want - I don't want it to happen anywhere else."
"That's fair," you say, voice soft and distant; you both have your trauma's, and both have similar reactions with it - wanting to do all you can for it to not occur again.
Yours was isolation, her's seems to be more vigilance.
Still, she softens as you look around in awe at the place. Maximus clears his plate, before looking to you.
"Hey," he calls out. You look to him, "after we finish, did you wanna go see our rooms? I think they should be near each other?"
You look to your plate - at the actual full meal in front of you that you've barely touched. It feels wrong, eating this amount of food, but you've been given it. They have given it to you. And it would be rude to not take them up on this.
You look to Maximus, your new friend, and nod. He smiles, bright. You do too.
Lucy looks between you both. She's still unsure, something in the back of her mind telling her that something isn't right; but, she then sees you both and your eagerness for this place. To her, it felt like a homecoming; to you, it was a new world with a whole new set of rules to understand - and, god, the eager look you both had; the conversations you both have as you finish your own food. She doesn't interrupt you, she just lets you both talk, and that, that is what makes her feel that humanity may just make it through this to the other side; connections. Friendship.
She turns down the offer to go up with you both, saying that she'll catch up, but wishes you both the best. Her smile is honest, but you don't see the way it struggles to stay up right. She wants to best for you, she does really, but that voice in the back of her head won't leave you alone. It seems that, here anyway, it's not there for you - but instead now for her - and so she'll follow it.
You're her friends. She has to look out for you both.
Maximus is right, your rooms are next to each other. Everyone is so nice here. They smile and wave. They say 'hello' and pass you by and leave you be. No one tries to take things from you. No one has an ulterior motive. Everyone is just kind.
That, and no one pisses on you, so that's a win in your book.
Maximus give you a nod and a 'see you later' before entering his own room. Your door opens. You flinch at the hiss it makes, but Ben just assures you that it's ok.
You enter, and it shuts behind you. Ben explains how to reopen the door. He even demonstrates it for you, before leaving you to get acquainted with it.
It's bright. Colourful and expressive. There's no dirt on anything. There are clothes left out for you. Even a kind of gown. You take off your clothes, and enter the bathroom. You see a shower, you turn it on. It works. There is a heat that hits you. It's comforting. You put yourself fully under it, letting it wash over you fully, before you start using some soap to clean yourself. It smells nice. You could get used to this.
You get out of the shower, getting changed into your new clothes. You feel something on your cheek. You put a hand to it and wipe. Puling away, you see a tear.
More come after that. A mix of happy and sad emotions all hitting you at once. You've never let yourself feel. You've never been able to. But, here you are, letting yourself have a moment. To process fully all that you've been through. All you've lost, and what you've gained in such a short amount of time.
You hear a knock on your door. You open it, it's Lucy. She looks concerned, out of breathe. Just a mix of things.
She enters, shutting the door behind you.
"Y/N, I - I think..." she pauses whatever she was about to say, seeing your state, "what happened?" she asks.
"I, uh," you say, "I don't know," you wipe some stray tears, "just - just something dumb. Nevermind -"
"It's not dumb," she assures. She has so much suspicion for this place, and yet her first concern is you.
There's a beat of silence. She waits. Despite the anxious thoughts on her findings. She waits.
"It's just..." you look to the floor for a second, before back up to her, "it's a lot," you confess, "all of this. I smell good, Luce. I don't -" you shut your eyes, seeing the memories you are used to seeing, "this is a good thing. A nice place. Nice people."
She nods, wanting for you to go on, "and I don't - I don't know how to feel about it."
She turns her head to the side, watching as you struggle with your words - so, she says a few of her own, "you deserve good things, Y/N."
You scoff, looking back up at her with your arms folded and back hunched, "maybe," you say, not fully believing it, "but...least I'll have you, right?" your walls are down fully. Emotions on your sleeve. Assurance, that's all you want.
"Always," and she gives it. It's instant, too, tone serious. Your lip wobbles.
"Even after we find your dad?"
She nods, eyes firm, "I'll do whatever I need to, to get you guys a spot in my vault. You'll be safe there. I promise."
A few more tears slip, and you nod. You let yourself have this. Something good. Something to hope for.
Then --
"'Your vault'?"
She nods, hating to have to crush your hope a bit, "there's something wrong here, Y/N. They're - They're talking about Shady Sands. They celebrate Moldaver!" she says to you in a whisper yell.
Your eyes widen.
"Look," she says, putting hands on your arms, "I will fix this. I won't leave you behind. But, you deserve something good, Y/N, and I mean that. Even for a little bit longer."
You look at her, eyes shinning with new tears - one of worry for her.
"I will be fine," she promises, "I know Vaults. I did engineering there. That, and I can take care of myself."
You never doubted that, but still, "but, safety in numbers."
She nods, "I know. But, like I said, I know vaults. I know where to go and how to get there. Before this all comes crashing down, you deserve some piece of mind. Just, keep an eye on Maximus, ok?"
You nod. You can do that.
"Be safe," is all you ask her.
She nods, giving your arms a squeeze, "always am."
"One hundo percento?"
She smiles. There she is, "one hundo percento."
"Okey Dokey."
Her smiles softens, "Okey dokey."
With that, she's gone. Determined now more than ever.
She knew her feelings for Maximus, the word for them. An attraction. But you, it was a deep platonic love. A similar one to Norm.
If this was before everything she'd seen, she'd name it gladly. Fami-
But, she wasn't that person. She was still Lucy Maclean to her core, but something had shifted in her. Something broke. She'd always help if needed, but there was an edge now. A voice in the back of her head that told her that all was not well. It did with her father and Moldaver. She hated it, the doubts it plagued her with. She kept walking, though.
So, when it came to your friendship, she refused to use the familial term. Just in case.
It does go wrong. But, not entirely as she expected it to. These people were victims, who killed their oppressors.
She'd read stories of people like this. She idolised them. And yet, now, she was the one doing the oppressing. The one doing the judging.
She knew her sin. She understood it, clear as day. Still, you both had done nothing wrong. Nothing at all. You'd both just lived above ground with shit luck to life.
So, despite having like no leverage, all she asks is simple.
"Can my friends stay?"
And, to her surprise - once the initial shock of them not killing her, and even giving her supplies for above - they say yes.
She's glad. She's done that right at least --
BOOM! BOOM! BANG! The sounds of Maximus in the armour reverberate off the walls, before a gunshot goes off from a rifle. You're both here. 'Saving' her.
"No, no, no, no, no!" She calls out to you both. But you're too caught up. Too caught up in trying to save your friend, that you don't even notice said friend trying to stop you.
You don't get far, but there is still some damage done. You may have smashed a window to get to the weapon. And Maximus may of stolen the fusion core for the armour.
"Guys!" Lucy calls out. It works on getting your attentions, "I'm ok!" she assures you, "look! look!" she gestures to herself, "no injuries! They were even giving me stuff. Look!" she says, grabbing an item that was inside the crate they have, "they aren't the bad guys. They're the victims!"
It really takes the winds out of your sails. You and Maximus both look to each other, before you both in sync say a single thing:
"Sorry."
With no arguments from any of you, you are banned from the Vault. Lucy looks to you and Maximus; him with the core, yourself with the weapon. Finally a -
"We need to give them back," Lucy says. You both look at her like she's mental.
"I mean it," she says, "we're not bad people. We don't just steal. Especially not after something like that."
"We tried our best," you say, folding your arms like a child being reprimanded.
Lucy rolls her eyes, "I know, and I thank you for your courage in your actions," she says, "but, the circumstances did not require them. They're good people. They need all the help they can get. Plus," she says, bringing out her pistol, "I have this."
You whine, leaning back and shutting your eyes, "but I want a weapon!!"
Lucy rolls her eyes again, "You can still fight, Y/N. You don't need a gun for that. We have each other, and our wits. And," she says, looking between you both, "once we're done, you won't need a weapon again. We'll be safe in the Vault. Trust me."
You and Maximus look to each other. You both sigh, then nod. He takes out the core; you open the door for him and you both deposit your items. You hear a 'thank you!' from below.
"There," she says, "how'd you feel?"
"Vulnerable," you say, gaining a third eye-roll.
"That's not a bad thing," she says.
"I don't mean the emotional kind."
She shrugs, "I know. But, we'll be ok. We have each other, and soon we will have the head. Then we'll be free."
Maximus looks to you. You just gesture for him to go ahead of you. He does, after giving you a pat on the shoulder.
You sigh, taking your own leave. Lucy watches you both leave. She nods, taking a steady breath.
"Okey Dokey," she says, before following after you.
You've done a good thing, she's happy that it's gone well. That, for once, an interaction out here has gone well and ended happily for everyone.
She just hates that voice in the back of her head. That doubt. That fear. That hesitation.
You're her friend. Her best friend, she'd wager. Someone she'd burn down a vault for - hell, she almost did - but there was also that voice in the back of her head. One that said to watch out. To not get fully attached.
There was a dark cloud in her mind. One she didn't quite know how to get rid of.
But, she knew one thing.
You had her, and she had you.
All the way, no matter what.
Part V
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