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pearldefiance · 1 year ago
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I am not meant for casual. I was born for soul crushing devotion.
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jennicatzies · 1 day ago
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🥂👑🪡?
[ ask game ]
> Favorite ship?
If it wasn't obvious already [LMAO] I'm. A jeffmads and hamilza and hamburr enjoyer. Thumb up emoji
> Who's a creator in the fandom that you love?
OH BROTHER there are so many of themb. But I'm a big fan of ziasoup, northpearl(2) and bagelo0 🙏🙏 fire art
> Favorite costume?
HELL YRAGH 💥
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Seabury, later act 2 Hamilton [eo1800-yr obt srt], first half of act 2 Burr, Angelica's fit from Take a Break [which I... can't find a supporting image for o(-(] and THE FINAL DUEL COATS HHJJHBBDBDHHDHDJKF [which I also unfortunately cannot find the images for]
Oh yeah dunno if this counts but. Hamilton's wlwdwtys/post show outfit in the. Black tailcoat and all. You know the one.
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zarvasace · 2 months ago
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Whumptober day 18: possession. Image description under cut!
Edit: next>>
This comic is done in tall pages with a gray background. All the lines have a pencil-like texture to them, and it is not colored. Most lines and text are in black, with white and red being used symbolically and sparingly.
Page One
Panel one: A sketched landscape that evokes the Dueling Peaks of Wild’s world, lit in bright red by a full and bloody moon.
Panel two: A line of silhouettes, lit slightly in red light for some detail. They are walking toward the right side of the page. From right to left: Wolfie, facing forward. Time. Warriors, looking backward. Wild, looking up with his slate in his hands. Legend looking around. Hyrule, jogging to catch up. Wind, shading his eyes and looking up. Sky, glancing backward. Four, fully stopped and looking back down at his shadow on the ground. The text reads, in quotes as if recalling something from a memory: “Monsters stalk the shadows here, once they’re dead. Blood moons bring them back.”
Panel three: We see Four’s head and hand, reaching out toward something slightly below him. His expression is concerned. He’s lit in red light, including two little reflected red blood moons in his eyes. The text is not in any quotes or speech bubbles, as if they are Four’s thoughts: “...bring them [underlined] back. Could it?”
Panels four and five: Four, still in silhouette, kneels next to a puddle of bubbling shadow, lit in red light. First he reaches down toward it, and in the next panel, his hand pulls back suddenly as the shadow begins to extend upward. Flecks of red evoke the Malice in the air, and become more intense in the fifth panel. The fifth panel is interrupted by a large (loud) exclamation from an unknown source, with a dash before to indicate that the speaker interrupted themself: [all caps] “—FOUR!”
Page Two
Panel one: Four glances over his shoulder, still lit in red light with flecks of red flying around him. There are tiny tears in the corners of his eyes, and he’s smiling. He says: “Calm down, its [underlined] okay!”
Panel two: A copy of the previous panel, except for a few differences. Four’s tears are gathering a little bigger. The red flecks in the air have turned to flaming shapes. Four says: “It’s just my S—” but is cut off by the next panel.
Panel three: Four is still looking back, but a bright flash of red interrupts what he’s saying. His eyes go round, his tears fall, and he stops speaking. The red lights in his eyes are bigger. 
Panel four: Four kneels down in the middle of the panel, while shapes that suggest the other Heroes gather around him, indistinguishable from each other. Red flecks fly around them all. Text fills the background, as if from the Heroes muttering, but there is now way to tell who is saying what: “FOUR! That doesn’t look good. What happened? He doesn’t usually linger behind. Give him some space. He said to calm down? That’s the opposite of what we should be— Who has the Ma— [cut off by shapes] He has a moon pearl, right? He never touches the thing.”
Panels five, six, and seven: These panels are a sequence left to right, separated by dotted lines instead of solid ones. In them, we see Four, but not any of his facial features. In panel five, he stands up (there’s a word to make it clear: “RISE”.) In the next, he raises his hands to look at them, and lines indicate that he’s wobbling. His feet are turned in ever so slightly. In the last panel of this sequence, he is still looking at his hands, but there is less wobbling and he’s standing more firmly. All through these panels, he doesn’t say anything, and red wiggly lines surround him. 
Panel eight: A shot of Hyrule, looking grim with a shield already out, Legend, looking a bit worried with a hand on the hilt of his sword at his back, and Wild, who’s definitely worried. They’re all outlined in red light, but don’t have any red shining in their eyes. Wild, in a wobbly speech bubble, says: “...Four?”
Page Three
Panel one: This panel takes up most of this page, and shows Four looking up, with one hand on his head and a huge, maniacal smile on his face. His eyes are fully red, and he’s still lit in red light. Flecks of red fly around him, and the panel is shaded and has more detail than the others have had. A series of “AHAHAHA” laughing is repeated behind him. He says, in all-caps with a red speech bubble: “I KNEW THE LITTLEST WOULD BE EASIEST TO TAKE!!”
Panel two: This isn’t Four, but it is his body. Not-Four laughs, one hand up by his face, and keeps speaking with red speech bubbles: “The idiot let me right in! Me, his dead friend?”
Panel three: All eight of the other Links with swords and some shields out, making angry eyes as they stand in a line. The sky is red behind them. We see the top silhouette of Not-Four’s head, and he says: “oh… uh…”
Panel four: A copy of the last panel, except now each of the other Links looks either surprised or even angrier. They all shout: “STOP!” but the silhouette of Four’s head is now dissolving into red light. He says, “catch you suckers later!”
Page Four
There is only one panel on this page, and it is quite spread out to illustrate a lull in the action.
At the top, we see the moon outlined in red, but now with white on the inside and around it, as if the blood moon is disappearing. 
Text, without speech bubbles but staggered so that each sentence seems to come from someone else, without any hints as to who says what: “Does anyone have any idea what that was? …nobody? Where’s Four? What was that? He’s possessed?!” And at the bottom of this block, there is more text: “Guys… Who’s that?”
At the bottom of this page, we see a Four-like figure lying slumped on the ground, a few sparkles of white around him. He looks to be asleep. The end of his hood is curled above him without a charm, as if floating with a mind of its own.
The very bottom has text in white, the artist’s signature: “mina @ zarvasace”
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kakushino · 1 year ago
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I'm married, Miss
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Tomioka Giyuu x Fem! Reader
Your husband is a changed man when drunk.
Tags: fluff, alcohol consumption, post-Muzan era (so minor KNY spoilers?) Word count: 0,8k
Masterlist
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Giyuu and you had gone on your customary monthly date night - to the lively izakaya you had first met at, introduced to each other by Tengen. It was a place that also served good food, other than the good alcohol, which was a definite bonus, but you were not thinking about any of the details of how or why you became a couple.
How could you, when Giyuu seemed to be deep in his cups and looking cute enough to eat?
A slight flush overtook his face some time ago, making you admire him with a bright smile. Your husband was so handsome, wasn’t he?
He took a small piece of food from the shared plate of assorted meats you shared, still a little clumsy with his left hand. He had an adorable frown marring his brow, his lips set in a pout, before he finally managed to successfully bring the bite to his lips, his expression relaxing as he chewed. 
He truly was a changed man when drunk.
“I love you,” you told him, still staring at him with a wide smile on your face.
Giyuu paused, blinking a few times, as if he’d just noticed you were there. “I’ll have you know I’m married, Miss,” he retorted neutrally, stumbling over his words a bit, the frown from earlier returning.
His answer surprised you. How much had he had to drink? Before you could tell him you were his spouse in question, he started to speak.
“I’m afraid you have no chance against her. She’s the best thing that has ever happened to me.” He jabbed his chopsticks in your direction, as his coworker Obanai used to do with his finger, accusatory. “You might be pretty but she’s prettier.”
Laughter bubbled from your throat. “Is she? Tell me more about her, please.” 
Giyuu’s frown was replaced by a completely neutral face, the only indication to his intoxication the blush on his cheeks. He was dead serious about ‘his wife’, it seemed. “She’s amazing,” he said breathily, adoration clear despite his expression. “My pearl, gods, what I wouldn’t give to hold her right now…” He looked down on his hand, still holding the chopsticks as it rested on the table, looking like a sad puppy. “She’s so-” he gestured oddly in the air, snapping his chopsticks as he concentrated, “she’s so comfort-shaped.”
Warmth bloomed in your chest, your smile turning lovesick as you took in your drunk husband. He was just so adorable, wasn’t he? He loved you as much as you loved him. 
“She’s my treasure, flashiest treasure - she’s always got this glow, you see?” Giyuu leaned forward as if he were telling you a great secret. “She’s beautiful.” He nodded sagely, agreeing with himself.
You couldn’t help but to ask him a personal question that had weighed on your mind for a time while he was out of it. “Oh, what about her bad traits? Surely, every human has a bad trait? Like, does she snore, or is she annoyin-”
“Absolutely not!” Giyuu looked offended at that. “My wife- my wife and annoying? No, never. Never ever-” he slurred his speech a little, waving his chopsticks threateningly in your face. “And how dare you say she snores! My pearl only ever releases the sweetest sounds known to man, but you-” he pointed at you angrily, “-you are hurting my wife’s honor, and I will fight you for that.” As if to prove a point, he jabbed his utensils into one of the meats on the plate and ate it, glaring daggers at you.
You were pleasantly surprised at the valiant defense of your character; it only made your husband more endearing, and you really, really wanted to continue teasing him - especially knowing he would remember this in the morning - but your bladder felt too full to sit still for much longer.
You excused yourself, which Giyuu ignored, still munching on the food with vigor. You kept giggling under your breath as you went to the lavatory, a sense of light schadenfreude making you grin wide, knowing he would suffer in the morning and regret his choices. Now however, you would enjoy the situation.
When you came back, your husband greeted you warmly, recognizing you at last. “Heyyy, my pearl,” he smiled warmly, leaning forward against the table to be closer to you. “I missed you - so much.” 
“I just had to go to the toilet, dear,” you reminded him with a soft laugh.
His flushed face scrunched up into a pout. “There was someone insulting you while you were gone. I defended you though.” Giyuu sat up straighter, preening a little, waiting for your compliment.
“Thank you, dearest,” you could only grin at that. Oh, you so would enjoy him remembering the night come morning.
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dividers made by the amazing @benkeibear
Network: @enchantedforest-network
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pearldefiance · 1 year ago
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Like and reblog if your account is a safe space for trans lesbians. It feels like trans lesbians in particular get shamed and ridiculed a lot by people in and out of the community. If you’re reading this I want to let you know you’re valid and I hope your safe and doing well.
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sinnabum45 · 6 months ago
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Regrets and Apology
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Link to help Palestine and other resources! 🇵🇸
[Plain text: Links to help Palestine and other resources! (palestine flag). End plain text.]
[Image description: Black and white digital comic of Ace Attorney characters Phoenix Wright and Miles Edgeworth.
Page one: Phoenix is facing away from the viewer with a speech bubble: “I was angry that [red text] you didn’t even bother telling me [end red text], or anyone, that you were suffering so much…” A memory of a tired Miles looking to the side saying, “I’m tired, Wright. I feel as if… something inside of me has died.” Phoenix’s hand is holding Miles’ crumpled resignation letter. Phoenix: “But the truth was that [red text] you did. [end red text] You did tell me and [red text] I left you to deal with it alone. I even hurt you. [end red text] I just… Couldn’t take the fact that [red text] I could’ve helped you, but I didn’t. [end red text] Finding a reason to blame you was a lot easier than facing the fact that [red text] I couldn’t save you [end red text] from your past.” Phoenix is on the far left of the page with an angry expression. Pearl is holding onto his arm and looking back at Miles. She has a worried expression. Miles is on the far right of the page. He is holding his right arm with his left hand and looking down with a hurt expression. Page one end.
Page two: Present Phoenix is smiling sadly, facing away from the viewer at Miles. Phoenix: “haha Pretty pathetic, huh?” Miles reacts with an uncomfortable shift while looking at Phoenix. They look away from each other in silence. Miles, facing away from viewer: “You’re not pathetic, Wright.” Phoenix twitches with a guilty expression. A memory of Miles sitting at his desk with crumpled paper all over the desk. He is crying with a blank expression while holding a pen over a sheet of paper. Miles: “I was too deep in my own pain that [red text] I justified disregarding everyone and everything else… I was a coward and ran away without saying a word. [end red text] How can one not feel grief from such selfishness?” Page two end.
Page three: Miles, facing away from the viewer, looks down. Miles “… Wright, I’m sorry for running away. I’m sorry for abandoning everything I used to be… For abandoning you.” Phoenix is surprised. Phoenix then puts his hand on Miles’ shoulder and Miles looks up at him. Phoenix: “I’m sorry for abandoning you, too, Edgeworth… And I’m sorry for saying those horrible things to you.” Page three end.
Page four: Phoenix starts to lean closer to Miles with tears in his eyes. Miles’ expression stiffens. Phoenix: “ I… I don’t want to lose you again.” Phoenix is right in front of Miles’ face and a tear falls. Phoenix: “I’m glad you came back, Edgeworth.” Phoenix hugs Miles and they start crying. Phoenix: “ I missed you…” Page four end.
Page five: Doodles of different scenarios. Top left: Miles is holding Phoenix’s arm while looking away and blushing. Phoenix is shocked, but smiling. Miles: “W-Wright… Would you like to have dinner together?” Phoenix: “HUH?! Oh- um… Yeah!!” Top right: Miles is looking away and holding his right arm. He looks pained. Phoenix is looking at Miles with a worried expression. Miles’ thought: “How could I have done that? He must be so disappointed in me… It’d be better if I wasn’t here.” Phoenix’s thought: “Don’t be so hard on yourself. You’re stronger than you think, Edgeworth.” Bottom left: Phoenix is facing the viewer with a scared expression, sweating. Miles is glaring at Phoenix from behind with a menacing aura around him. Text: “Hyping himself up to talk to Phoenix [arrow pointing at Miles]” Bottom right: Phoenix is wearing his beanie with a stubble. He is talking on the phone with a smile on his face and his eyes are closed. Trucy is next to him happily yelling something. There is a split to where Miles is. Miles holding his book and smiling while talking to Phoenix on the phone. Box text “They’re not perfect, but they’re trying.” End description]
This is supposed to be a part 2 of the comic where Miles spirals. You don't have to read that one to understand this one, but I'll link it if you want to see it! (TW// suicide ideation, graphic depiction of suicide attempt) Link to the comic
Some of my opinions/thoughts below! I tried my best to make it make sense-- 🙇🏻‍♀️
There was supposed to be a whole scene where Miles calls Phoenix, they talk over the phone for a bit, and decide to meet up. I didn't know what they'd say and I didn't the energy, so I skipped to their conversation-- 🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️
Also, I was skimming through case 1-5 again and I noticed that Miles was actually very open and communicative about what he was feeling and going through. Even Phoenix (and everyone tbh) noticed how badly Miles was suffering. They saw it with their own eyes, too. I hear a lot of people in the fandom talk about how Miles doesn't communicate his feelings at all, so I was surprised to see that.
Although it doesn't excuse Miles hurting his friends, it made me understand more of why Miles probably felt alone and had to deal with his problems himself. It'd be hard to trust people/ask for help when they've either betrayed you in some of the worst ways possible, ignored you, minimized your feelings, or is a literal child. I love Lana, but imo she was probably one of the worst person at the time to be the one telling Miles to trust people. From Miles' POV she just betrayed and traumatized him, so I find it hard to think that Miles could listen to her about trust even if he wanted to.
Even with Phoenix. They're not close at this time and so far, no fault on Phoenix, Miles hasn't had many good experiences with Phoenix in adulthood. Yes, Phoenix solved DL-6, which Miles seems really grateful for, but he leaves Miles to deal with the aftermath alone. Of course, it's hard to know how to help someone suffering with trauma. (I really don't like the whole "saving" Miles from his trauma, cuz you can't just do that?? Like they both say that... ����) Regardless, Miles didn't really have anyone he felt like he could trust there. At least according to the games, Phoenix drops everything because Maya left. He didn't get in contact with Miles until case 1-5. Throughout the OG trilogy, Phoenix thinks a lot of things, but rarely says them out loud to comfort/reassure his friends. It's common for people to be uncomfortable with having to verbally comfort others so they choose to not say anything at all, but that will have its consequences, too.
I like to think that they did apologize to each other or something. Phoenix seems to put in more effort to verbally show his concern and comforts Miles. He even thought about "hugging it out" with Miles when he thought that Miles would need it. That scene was so cute 🥺
I get that realistically, a lot of people struggle with proper communication, but people have the ability to learn and grow, so I want to portray these characters with that in mind. They don't have to be perfect, but they don't have to be completely toxic either. I like it when characters like each other (romantically or platonically) and actually show it. Which I do notice that AA portrays a lot! I do think the characters could be a bit harsh to each other for no reason, too, but that's just me cuz I'm sensitive-- 🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️ lol I haven't gotten into AJAA yet, but I did see some scenes. I love how Miles and Phoenix could just have random conversations now. They seem so much more comfortable with each other than the earlier games. I want to see more of how the all of the characters' relationships changed over time throughout the games! 😆🤲 (Might take forever cuz my brain is already bursting with just part of the 1st trilogy)
If you have read until here, thank you for your time! As always, I love seeing people's interpretations/thoughts, so that's why I want to share mine, too. If you want to share your thoughts on this post, feel free to do so! Just please be respectful 👍
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bigidiotenergytm · 20 days ago
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The divine palace far exceeded in its splendor what Odysseus' feeble mind could even concieve.
Its hallway appeared to be endless, with its impossibly tall ceiling, taller than any building the former king of Ithaca had ever seen.
The inside of the palace was painted in various shades of blue, with white accents which gave it a clean, yet cold look.
Seashells, gems and pearls of varying sizes adorned the imposing walls, adding a touch of colour to the otherwise fully white and blue residence.
Carefully crafted reliefs depicting famous tales of heros, monsters and gods were also present, reminding Odysseus of the temples he often visited while he was still in the company of his beloved Penelope.
Poseidon glanced at the man who trailed behind him. The captain was completely awestruck; walking with his mouth agape and his eyes curiously darting from one corner to the next, eager to take in as much of this glorious sight as he could.
The god smiled unwittingly at the human's reaction. He had been so overcome by wonder that he had failed to notice he no longer required the aid of the bubble.
Truth be told, Poseidon had granted the man the ability to breathe underwater shortly before summoning a portal to his palace. However, it seemed like it would take said man additional time to notice the power he had been blessed with.
The god observed the human as he examined one of the large reliefs, clearly interested in the scene it depicted.
"I see you're impressed with my palace."
He started, causing Odysseus to swiftly turn his attention towards him. The former captain's expression then changed in an attempt to hide the fact that the god was right.
Poseidon let out a chuckle at the man's reaction before continuing.
"There is no need for lies, my dear king. After all, it's only natural. No human has ever set foot here. You should be honoured for the opportunity you were given."
Upon finishing his speech, he turned his eyes towards the small human, or rather the clothes he was wearing.
His chiton was torn and stained, reduced to no more than a rag after over a decade of constant fighting for survival.
Scrunching his nose in disgust, the earth-shaker lifted his trident as he spoke up again.
"I'm afraid those clothes, if one can even call them that, are highly unbecoming. I cannot permit a servant of mine to be dressed in such a vile manner."
As he spoke, his trident began glowing, preparing to obey its master.
Odysseus looked down at his poor excuse of a chiton, seeing it glow in the same way the god's trident was.
After a few short seconds, the glow disappeared. The mortal looked down, only to be met with a humiliating sight: his clothes had vanished, leaving him dressed in what his captor had provided him with instead.
And sadly, it seemed like generosity wasn't one of the virtues Poseidon possessed. His chiton was now replaced with a rather short, light blue skirt. Small pearls were sewn into the fabric, giving it a simple yet regal appearance.
Although the material was light and pleasant against his skin, it barely reached the middle of his thighs, being just long enough to not be completely indecent.
His chest was left bare, exposed for what felt like the first time in years. The rest of his body, however, was adorned with the finest jewelry.
In his hair there sat a golden clip in the shape of a starfish, successfully keeping the locks of unkempt brown hair from falling into his eyes.
A long necklace made of small, white seashells drapped down his chest, almost reaching his abdomen.
Odysseus looked at himself in disbelief. Once he had fully processed what had happened, he turned to the god of the seas, his eyes glistening in fury. He demanded an explanation.
Poseidon let out a small laugh at the mortal's reaction. Still, he opened his mouth to respond.
"As I previously said, those rags of yours were unsightly. Can't you even appreciate the beauty of the robes I've gifted you?"
He feigned sadness, as if the lack of gratitude truly wound him.
"But why? Why this? Why-"
"Because I willed it so."
The man's question was cut off by the god's abrupt answer. Poseidon's tone was stern; a clear warning and signal for the human to cease speaking.
Then, a sly, playful grin appeared on the god's lips.
"But, if you must know, I will tell you. One of your duties as my servant is to look presentable.
As for why your robes are the way they are, well, you have none other than your parents to blame. Because, my noble captain, you have truly splendid thighs.
Now, follow me!"
As he said that, he turned on his heel and continued walking down the seemingly endless hallway, forcing the mortal to follow behind him.
Perhaps the palace would prove awe-inspiring if it wasn't his PRISON.
Odysseus knew architecture. Knew it well, having built his own palace with his bare hands. He knew the intricacies, even down to the smallest gems were placed with reason. Even if this was Poseidon's domain— it was still that of a God's. One mighty. Powerful. Strong. The curves in the marble. The slightest blue hue. Even the statues of those past were carved with a delicacy that the sculptors of Gaia would ENVY. Everything hand-picked by the God of the Sea to represent him as a deity. The stories the walls told. The things they could share, if they were to ever speak. They told him what words could not. A palace was a King's pride. Their everything.
And all the mortal can focus on is how IMPOSING it all is.
Eyes do not dart out of curiosity. They analyze. What may seem as if a mortal is simply gawking is not what the Cunning is truly doing. Vantage points. Hidden spots. No, Odysseus can never escape. Escape would only be met with the bottom of the Aegean Sea. And, as BLASPHEMOUS as Odysseus has been— he knew this was still a bargain. A deal that the former king had presented HIMSELF. Does he not ahold to it; there was no stopping Poseidon from drowning Ithaca. From killing those he's sacrificed everything for.
A sacrifice leaves him Poseidon's. Only Poseidon's.
Curiosity can't be afforded anymore. Curiosity is that for who are still filled with HOPE.
Odysseus TENSES when the Sea God addresses him again. It means nothing good. The mortal has to stop his eyes from scanning. From giving ANY inkling he's trying to form some kind of plan. It works, he can only assume, from how Poseidon doesn't persecute it any further. This was only the beginnings of such a large palace. There'd be a time and a place to get used to these halls. To get the odds shifted.
Poseidon's eyes land on him and he FREEZES. That was just it. Any mortal's weakness. The unknown. The mortal offered his servitude, but he cannot imagine what it'll entail. How ruthless the God would be. The face Odysseus is given doesn't bring comfort. It makes him feel exactly as it proposes: DIRTY. That trident rises against him again, and he can feel his heart rate rise as it does. The God speaks. The God wields that weapon of his in his face. And Odysseus can only stand there as it glows.
Eyes screw shut. Expecting the worst despite the words.
Odysseus can feel it. The change.
Cold hitting skin where it did not before. Jewelry weighing his neck down. Stealing what warmth his skin has. For agonizing seconds, Odysseus can't bring himself to look. He knows. He knows what Poseidon's put him in to strip him of himself even further. Eyes are forced open. Forced to take in the 'gift' his God's given him because he knows if he does not, it'll only be worse. But it doesn't make it any less HUMILIATING. Hands can only go to the bottom of this skirt to fidget. He doesn't dare bring it lower to try and preserve modesty. Anything could be read as a sign of disrespect. Feeling its soft fabric, it reminded him of home. Of the sheets on his bed still waiting for him. Fingers feel the pearls embedded into the fabric. Different from the shells and pearls adorning his torso. The necklace given was long. Multiple rows leading to his pelvis, as three rows wrap around both sides to cling to his back. It felt suffocating. As if Poseidon himself was wrapped around him. Around his neck. Even the gloves and gladiator sandals weren't untouched. Turned a dark blue, waves now carved in them. Heaving them far more than chains ever could.
It doesn't stop him from asking why.
Only to be QUIETED. The mortal knew far too well of the Will of the Gods. How it's forever to be set; interwoven with Fate and Destiny. The same ruthlessness that provides his mercy. Jaw sets. The grip on the hem only grows tighter. Acting like a true servant, silenced and obeying. That smile only makes Odysseus grow colder. The Earth-Shaker continuously reverberating his core. Digging deeper, and deeper. Letting him sink more and more. Colder. And colder.
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Until Poseidon says something that brings about more questions than it does answers.
... his... thighs? Odysseus can only blink in confusion. For once, a warmth greets him. Going immediately to his cheeks. This was the second time the Sea God has made him blush. And he can only curse himself for it. It seemed sick. It seemed objectifying. But what was a servant, if not an OBJECT? He all but willingly- all but eagerly— bestowed himself to be Poseidon's object. One who let live. One to let bleed. One to let weep.
The former king would then lower his skirt slightly after Poseidon turns around. His arms go to wrap around his waist, hugging himself- comforting himself, as he is all but forced to silently follow the God further into his abode.
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aisereththeprince · 4 months ago
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Ingo comes visiting the pearl settlement in the Icelands and over hears a conversation with Irida and a pearl clan member… he does not like what he’s hearing.
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More under cut
I would think he’s upset because he doesn’t want someone to experience what he has. Still tryna figure out how to draw Akari.. the headkerchief thing is a pain-
Ingo has been in Hisui for about 5 years at that point in my hc, btw.
Proud of the drawing tho. Thanks for the compliments btw :]] Poll ends soon btw.
[Image ID: Ingo from Pokémon with a upset or concerned facial expression. Orange light from some source shining on him.
1st Speech bubble (upper left): "There is a new Galaxy member… Kammado says she also fell from the sky…"
2nd Speech bubble (upper right): "You mean like warden Ingo? I find that hard to believe… But then again, maybe that’s what Almighty Sinnoh wants. Maybe there’s a big plan…?"
3rd Whisper/Speech bubble (lower left said by Ingo): "Fuck."
4th Whisper/Speech bubble (lower right said by Ingo): "not again…"
End ID]
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nay-lon · 10 months ago
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Phoenix has two hands and he will use them
[Image description: Digital halfbody drawing of Miles Edgeworth, Phoenix Wright, and Iris from Ace Attorney. Miles had his arm around Phoenix's and is grinning and exhaling. Phoenix is laughing and gesturing with one arm, and holding Iris' hand with the other. Speech bubbles above Phoenix show a cat behind the witness stand, a magician's wand and hat, and Apollo and Klavier in court. Iris is leaning against Phoenix and grinning. Phoenix has tan skin. Miles and Phoenix are wearing their outfits from game 5 and 6, except that Phoenix has a sweater vest instead of a normal vest. Iris wears a pearl earring, purple turtleneck sweater, a purple magatama, and a dark purple skirt. The background is yellow. End description.]
thank you to @quailfence for the description
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mostlysignssomeportents · 21 days ago
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A year in illustration (2024), Part four
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If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:
https://pluralistic.net/2024/12/07/great-kepplers-ghost/art-adjacent
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Part one
Part two
Part three
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The US Copyright Office frees the McFlurry
Figuring out how to illustrate the problems of DRM in McFlurry machines took some doing, but I'm super happy with how the HAL 9000-eyed poop emoji inside a spattered McFlurry cup (fair use of a McDonald's promo image) worked out.
https://pluralistic.net/2024/10/28/mcbroken/#my-milkshake-brings-all-the-lawyers-to-the-yard
(Image: Cryteria, CC BY 3.0, modified)
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Keeping a suspense file gives you superpowers
Another Keppler classic: originally, this was FDR being offered a helping hand to cut through his paperwork. I added in one of the elephant heads I'd cropped out for election illustrations, and used it to represent "not forgetting."
https://pluralistic.net/2024/10/26/one-weird-trick/#todo
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The housing crisis considered as an income crisis
The underlying image is another Keppler, showing death flamboyantly dicing with a millionaire. I added in an official (hence public domain) Reagan portrait, some monopoly houses, and a vintage aerial photo of Levittown, halftoned to disguise scaling artifacts.
https://pluralistic.net/2024/10/24/i-dream-of-gini/#mean-ole-mr-median
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Retiring the US debt would retire the US dollar
More of Keppler's outstanding Uncle Sams! Add in a super-rezzed-up US $100 (all that intanglio looks great at high mag) and you've got an instantly arresting image.
https://pluralistic.net/2024/10/21/we-can-have-nice-things/#public-funds-not-taxpayer-dollars
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Penguin Random House, AI, and writers' rights
The impatient guy makes another appearance in this WPA image of an adult literacy class; he's joined by another "business man" type, this one from a midcentury ad for a multi-level marketing scheme selling…business suits! The pupils' heads are all HAL 9000 eyes, natch, but don't miss all the little Easter Eggs, like the reeve and peasants in the frames on the walls.
https://pluralistic.net/2024/10/19/gander-sauce/#just-because-youre-on-their-side-it-doesnt-mean-theyre-on-your-side
(Image: Cryteria, CC BY 3.0, modified)
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You should be using an RSS reader
The guerrilla fighter is back, this time standing atop some mainframe equipment ganked from a Univac ad. The halftoned RSS logo in the background really works, especially with a partially blended GIMP "supernova" effect behind the rebel.
https://pluralistic.net/2024/10/16/keep-it-really-simple-stupid/#read-receipts-are-you-kidding-me-seriously-fuck-that-noise
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Dirty words are politically potent
I spent a bunch of time experimenting with different ways of making emphatic speech bubbles and it paid off here; that poop emoji's gawlix is in a good home. Halftoning the foreground element (the poop) works surprising well here. I should do more of that.
https://pluralistic.net/2024/10/14/pearl-clutching/#this-toilet-has-no-central-nervous-system
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Lina Khan's future is the future of the Democratic Party – and America
Keppler's Uncle Sam Cop is back, along with another Keppler – a carpetbagger flying through the air after getting a kick in the pants. I got good use out of one of my Democratic Party donkeys here. The background is a half-tones WPA travel poster for Montana.
https://pluralistic.net/2024/10/11/democracys-antitrust-paradox/#there-will-be-an-out-and-out-brawl
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Cars bricked by bankrupt EV company will stay bricked
I actually made this brick by hand: first I rescaled a box image until it had the right proportions, then I found a public domain texture that was the right kind of brick and used the perspective tool to put it over each face of the box. I told you public domain bricks are hard to find.
It was very satisfying overlaying all the elements of the Fisker car I cropped out onto the brick.
https://pluralistic.net/2024/10/10/software-based-car/#based
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Prime's enshittified advertising
Nothing exceeds like excess! The flayed face with eyeballs comes from a 19th century book of French anatomical drawings. The calipers' handles just didn't look right (I referred to stills from Clockwork Orange to try and get 'em to work), but then I hit on the idea of using the "As Seen on TV" logo, which worked perfectly. The halftoned K-Tel ad-card background doesn't quite work, I think.
https://pluralistic.net/2024/10/03/mother-may-i/#minmax
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"That Makes Me Smart"
This is actually two Kepplers; the original guy in the leg-hold trap is some lost-to-history politician embroiled in a lost-to-history scandal. But once I added (yet another!) of Keppler's Uncle Sam heads to his body (recoloring his coat and converting his trousers to red stripes), it became a perfect visual representation of America, trapped. The halftoned US flag is my favorite background yet.
https://pluralistic.net/2024/12/04/its-not-a-lie/#its-a-premature-truth
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The far right grows through "disaster fantasies"
When it came to finding heavily armored and armed weirdos, I was spoilt for choice; same goes for grainy photos of vintage malls that look good after halftoning. Add in the goofy, grinning newsie's head and overlay his hat in camou, and it's perfect.
https://pluralistic.net/2024/11/24/mall-ninja-prophecy/#mano-a-mano
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Boss politics antitrust
Finally, I got a chance to use Keppler's "Capital Controls the Senate!" I agonized over which corporate logos to use. Boss Tweed is back, with a Trump wig and MAGA hat.
https://pluralistic.net/2024/11/12/the-enemy-of-your-enemy/#is-your-enemy
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Antiusurpation and the road to disenshittification
A diptych! Both sides' backgrounds come from Bosch's "Garden of Earthly Delights" – hell on the left, heaven on the right. The happy gas-jockey's old-fashioned ethyl pump divides the scene. The head-devouring dragon (with HAL 9000's eye) is a delightfully gory detail from Goltzius's 1183 painting of a couple guys having a hard time indeed.
https://pluralistic.net/2024/11/07/usurpers-helpmeets/#disreintermediation
(Image: Cryteria, CC BY 3.0, modified)
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Bluesky and enshittification
I know, canonically the sirens who tempted Ulysses were merfolk, not half-woman/half-birds, but all the merwoman versions have a ton of naked breasts in them, and frankly, Waterhouses's 1891 "Ulysses and the Sirens" just rips. It took a lot of fiddling with the perspective tool and the clone brush to swap their bodies for the Bluesky butterfly wings, but it still looked weird until I mapped in a kind of scaly, butterfly wing texture.
https://pluralistic.net/2024/11/02/ulysses-pact/#tie-yourself-to-a-federated-mast
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Shifting $677m from the banks to the people, every year, forever
I replaced Moses parting the Red Sea with Keppler's Uncle Sam Cop, but something still wasn't right. Then I figured out how to turn the Red Sea into a giant, aquatic US $100 bill (loooove that intaglio!) and it was awesome.
https://pluralistic.net/2024/11/01/bankshot/#personal-financial-data-rights
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roxannepolice · 7 months ago
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The thing about Ricky September rising to the top of the chart as the most controversial aspect of Dot and Bubble is interesting, because... welp, as many people have pointed out, he's the surface level white twinky manic pixie nuwho Doctor at their most op on steroids. I've seen people comparing him to s6 Eleven specifically, but the offhand remarks about how much he knows, the interest in history, and most importantly, the proper introduction as the handsome guy who leads our protagonist away from cheap looking monsters and then runs hand in hand with her... that's Rose, the episode. The reason people took a liking to him is because he literally echoes the main character of the show we're watching. He's the Doctor doll in this sci fi dollhouse. That's why it's so shocking when Lindy uses him as cannon fodder.
So the fact that he's no less racist than everyone else in Finetime fits into the general concept of this episode as unpacking the naturalised racism of Shakespeare's Tempest/Forbidden Planet sf conventions, that Doctor Who, and the Doctor themself has been guilty of (welp this is what you get for thinking it's a good idea to turn a brown guy over to WWII villains or not filtering for racism when you random generate a time and space you will hide in with a black companion - you watch aryan bubble folks go to their deaths you bent ass over tits to prevent; not for many people this would have been karma doing its job, but for the Doctor it is).
But I don't think... the show wants us to hate itself, or its main character. Like, there are reviewers clutching their pearls over another cult text getting written by people who hate it, but. criticism isn't hatred, it's often an expression of love, and perhaps one of the highest forms of self-love. Which is why it caught my attention Ncuti Gatwa looks extra-doctorish in the last scene. Yes, clothes are surface, but in a visual medium they're a message too. Fifteen has been the most clothes changing Doctor we've seen so far, and he spends most of the episode in a more everyday casual shirt, but he dons the extravagant yet stylish tartan knee length suit for the end. And he does a Speech(tm), too, and helpless shouting, and finally a stern face (which ironically enough reminded me of fury of a Time Lord Ten). And like, he's not ignorant of why Finetimers look at him this way. They always knew, just never were on the practical not abstract side of the deal.
So Ricky the Doctor Doll works not only as a meta textual self reflexive parody, but also a contrast. Not so much as a "but see, this show, or even this era is not like other girls" masturbation, but more as a reflection on what makes this protagonist who they are. Yes, maybe s6 Eleven was op-ed too much, but that's not what made any Doctor, including this one, who they are. From this perspective the concept that Ricky would not have helped anyone from outside the in-group is... ironic considering how much of a separate chaff from grain sentiment there comes about in response to the Doctor's radical - and often pragmatically wrong! - kindness. Yes, the rationales for when they "should" be less merciful are more solid than skin colour, but I think this element of "this guy is what you WANT the Doctor to be, and not just visually" is there. Can't help thinking of how the destruction of Gallifrey - both in s1 and s12 - gets hailed as "yes, that's what the show is telling us is the RIGHT thing to do, just in general, not to prevent a specific outcome!". Meanwhile Fifteen keeps calling it genocide and remains wistful.
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ranfren-confessions · 3 months ago
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I feel like there's a lot more to Randal than most people see. he reminds of a pearl almost; you just keep peeling layer after layer until you get to the bones of the animal that got stuck in the clam's mucus some 20 years ago. he's said some very suspicious things in a couple of Lucids that suggests he has a past much, much, larger than what we know as the ivory house. especially the rat men volumes, what the fuck was that? oh, and another one that really caught my attention was the black speech bubble where he said he regrets not keeping pieces of friends with him in the past. what past mf? there's way more I just don't wanna go back and find. anyways, I hope we get more clues in maybe book three or something. howdie is torturing us.
-oyster anon
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sheepispink · 10 months ago
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A Pearl (1/2)
based on the song by mitski because i love mitski and hot traumatised men
Summary: Years of horrific memories still weigh down on him even as he promises to let you help him move on. All you want to do is help, but its not enough.
Part 2 Masterlist AO3
tags: Leon Kennedy/Reader, Hurt/No comfort, Angst, fem! reader, mentions of re4 (no specific spoilers dw guys), mentions of ptsd, heart wrenching angst 😘
other notes: for clarification, the timeline goes— after the raccoon city incident, then he goes on the re4 mission, then it’s like the smaller missions like damnation etc. Towards the end and next chapter it’s basically vendetta. But theres no actual spoilers bcus tbh.. i haven’t watched any of the movies except id 💀
Ch1: Before it Ended
Like a dream is how you’d always describe it. His coworkers, your friends —anyone who had heard of his name— would come up to you, fawning over your pretty looks and lovely personality. They’d ask you every time, “How did it happen?” And always, you’d replay that memory in your head.
“It was winter,” You’d begin by recounting the snow that fell upon your face that day, the breeze that bristled your bones, and the way his hair looked frozen in place. You’d remember the laughter that bubbled in your throat when you saw that and how his lips curved ever so slightly for what you believe was the first time. Some of the soft strands of your hair had itched your skin; It was messy from having been shaken from the depths of sleep, and now your fingers tuck the rogue locks behind your ear. Eyes like a pretty lake, hair like wheat, with his random strands and dirty blonde roots you would soon learn to run your fingers through. He stood before you, only the dim porch light illuminating him on that winter night. “Why are you out so late?” You had asked him, your hand reaching forward to tug him into the warmth of your apartment. Little did you know that’d tug him into your life as well.
The refusal was clear; he shook his head, puffs of warm air escaping as he explained that he had something to tell you. His clothes were dirty, scratched in places, and his combat knife was only hastily put away—just work, he explains, desperate to leave a good impression on you. He had finished, and he was sure that now that he’d have time, he’d be free from the shackles of the years that would creep up on him. Cheeks flushed and Adam’s apple bobbing—you still aren’t sure whether the cold or a blush caused that. “I know I’m always gone, and we dont see each other as often anymore, but I swear- I’ve sorted everything out. I’ve fixed it.” He says his words rushed and mumbled, like his heart was spilling out then and there.“I know this is sudden- i know, but- i just.. Will you marry me?” He blurts out and every puff of air that leaves his mouth feels like another log added to the fire you didn’t know was built in your heart for him. A campfire, as you’d always describe it, is comforting and warm, the perfect reassurance in cold times. Perhaps you should’ve chosen something detrimental to life, but you preferred the romantic speech.
Everyone loved the tale as you did, enamoured with how you managed to get the stoic agent to fall head over heels with you. He’d walk over right then, slinging an arm around your waist, giving you a tender kiss to your cheek, and plastering a smirk on his lips. “Still telling everyone that story?” He’d tease as his fingertips gently rubbed your side, the silver band on his ring finger twinkling with the same light his wine glass did. “As usual.” You’d reply, that same bubble of happiness rising in your throat again as you tilted your head upwards, waiting for the small peck that always came.
Always.
A year would go by, and you’d been learning more and more about each other. Nothing seemed to be too big of a step for you. Opposing voices, loud huffs, doors slamming shut until the other would open it quietly, apologise, crawl into the warmth of their shared bed, and work things out with sweet reassurances. Work was tough; he was on more missions than ever, being considered one of the greatest men to serve your country. Warmth that you always described as adoration filled your heart whenever you heard that phrase; you couldn’t be more proud of him for it.
Besides, not even that could tear you down; nothing could break the delicate encasing that surrounded the pair of you. A greenhouse, you’d say, because it held all the things that grew only with a person’s own nurture and care. Like your relationship, crafted and melded by your kind words and your soft voice. It’s a shame greenhouses are made of glass.
Weekends were quieter now, something you had decided to take in stride; you decided to plan something nice for when he returned. The he anniversary he had missed too. It’s been so long since you’ve seen him now, resorting to spraying his cologne on the pillows in that cold bed to retrieve some imaginary warmth. Then it came—the day he’d return. Open arms is what you welcomed him with; he had always loved to hug you, and holding you close was a remedy for his mind, he’d say. But those words stopped forming after some time. You ushered him into the shared bed that night, your arms curling around him after the nice surprise you had set up earlier had gone well. Perfect, you had thought. The bed was still cold, though. You thought about bringing it up with him but decided against it; the warmth of his arms was enough for you.
You should’ve brought it up with him, for the time would have entered where he couldn’t handle it. He had awoken with a jolt, sweat trickling like beads down his temples. Eyes wide and chest pounding, he sat there with eyes darting for a threat and hands searching for yours. Your fingers would intertwine with his, warm against his cold palms, as you sat up beside him. It’d be over soon; thats what you promised— you’d do this together.
Nights like those started occurring more often than ever, until one day, he’s awoken with a sharp jolt again. His movements are much more frantic, his hands searching and searching.
Though, this time, it doesn’t find itself in yours.
It’s tightly wrapped around your neck, his mind screaming to murder you. Bloodshot eyes and prominent streaks of black down your arms— the horrors he had tried so desperately to push away— return to his mind. Your breath wont come. No sweet words, and he looks down to see his hand contaminated with that same murky colour. The sink of his chest feels like a knife as he sees your arm grab out at him, like they did everywhere he went. Those creatures who would grab him, claw at him, and still threatened to take his life. They had destroyed his mind instead.
But there is no mutant, no bloodshot eyes and no streaks on your skin. All he sees is what he’s done to you, his body weight pressing on you as his hand keeps a firm grip around your neck. Your mouth begs for air, denying the sweet reassurance he needed as he sees you turn pale, your eyes flickering with tears. There’s no threat in here; not even the cold breeze from the open window chills his bones. Nothing can hurt more than the desperation in your eyes as your hands claw—No—plead at him for relief. He immediately lets go, scrambling to the other end of the bed as he watches you pant, his heart filled with fear. Fear of himself. You quickly turn to him, mustering out your honeyed phrases through choked breaths. But they’re just letters dancing about, barely going near his ears in the walls he had built between the two of you. Ignorance is bliss, but he can’t break his gaze when he sees the deep streaks of scarlet he left on your neck. Frozen in regret and shame, you tentatively wrap your arms around him to comfort the pair of you. But he feels your tears on his neck; the fear you felt eats at his gut and his conscience. You had never felt so cold before.
The days he had left for missions were the worst nights of your life, you’d say, having been away from your heart for so long. But even as you see him drinking his morning coffee, those eye bags prominent, you think your heart might be buried in Spain, infected with the plagas of love that died out.
Unspoken was what had happened that night— a silent promise between the pair of you with small random affections to bandage up the wound he had inflicted. He was still going on the small missions, but they were shorter, and he was back to fill the bed every night. The flowers in the vase never died—a different shade, flower, or even scent every week. A different kind of love.
This continued for weeks, up until you were out with some friends, each talking about their love lives, which was always a topic between the three of you. One of them gushes about how their husband’s love language is gift-giving, describing each and every homemade affection they receive on the daily. Soon it gets around to your turn, and when you speak about his love language, physical touch comes to mind again. Whether it was playing with your hair, rubbing your hands as you walked in the cold, or leaning on you after hard days, he always wanted to be near you. Your mouth fails to respond; no words form yet no examples are recalled in your brain either. You laugh sheepishly, trying hard to wrack your head for something sweet he’s done, until you just laugh it off and talk about how you love him again.
The bed’s empty when you slip inside it; he hasn’t returned yet and he won’t be back for another hour or so. The ceiling accompanies you as you desperately try to remember an act of affection in the last few weeks. It’s only now that it finally hits you, like a tonne of bricks through your skull—
He’s been distancing himself from you.
Knowing that you get caught up in little things, he occupied your mind with flowers and sweet notes. Not once have you actually heard him say any of it or felt his touch, if not accidental. He sleeps at a distance at night, and even when you shuffle closer somehow, you wake up further apart than before. You havent had a meal with him in weeks and you haven’t actually heard that raspy voice you remember as he complains about his day. You cannot remember the last time you felt warmth, and you can’t remember when you last cried this hard.
You’re in the bathroom, wiping away the stray tears as you look at yourself in the mirror. A heavy ache that still scrapes against the walls of your heart, unsure if you feel better or worse after coming to terms with this. Every pump feels like it’s dragging you down instead of keeping you alive. The rush of blood is like-
The front door clicks open.
You almost freak out and you’re not even sure why you would. Why are you scared of this? Why are you suddenly scared of him? Your feet hurries you back to your shared bed, settling under the covers once more to try to play it off as just tiredness. You still can’t figure out why you’re doing all this or why you start to form excuses for your behaviour in your mind. He never does. So why would you? The footsteps draw closer; they’re just slightly heavy, much softer than when he wears his boots. You hear the bedroom door unclick and your shoulders tense with every second.
But you dont see him enter. Slow breathing and closed eyes— you’re even lying on your side as you pretend to be asleep.
————————————————————————
Leon breathes out a heavy sigh, his chest sinking to drain out all his exhaustion from today. There’s a rustle of clothing as he undresses, pulling on some random sweatpants and a spare shirt for the night. Why should he even care if its clean or not? He walks over to his side of the bed, rummaging around the bedside table for something. Then he pauses, his eyes catching onto something in his peripheral view. Tear stains?
You hear the creak on the bed as he leans half his weight on it, about to reach out to you. Your heart beats faster. Is it because you dont want to worry him with your tears, or are you afraid of him? You don’t know. His fingers brush your cheek ever so gently, his voice echoing out your name so, so softly.
“Hey.. you awake?” He asks, and even though your heart is melting into a little puddle so easily, some stubborn stick clogs your throat. His sigh fills the room again and he pulls the blanket over you, tucking it snugly over you before brushing the hair out of your face. Maybe he’s just tired these days, you think. He’s been through a lot after all; it explains all of it. Really, you shouldn’t have been so upset at all—his work and life are on an entirely different level for you.
You’re about to open your eyes, pretend you woke up, and give him a sleepy smile. Images of him giving you a tight hug and one hand rubbing the small of your back as he tells you to fall asleep again fills your mind.
Then he speaks again, the bed creaking as he steps back off of the bed, the warmth leaving as fast as it came. “She’s really knocked out.? Phew.. I do not want to deal with some stupid tears..” He mutters out, his raspy voice much lower and breathless—almost exasperated. A low groan leaves him as he dumps his work clothes somewhere. Then, the bed screams again as he lays his weight on it before he shuffles himself to the end of the bed. He looks back at the space between them, another huff of air leaving his lips.
“That’s good enough. I fucking hate being woken to push her away from me..” Eventually, his breathing evens out, and his shoulders are still tight and tense as his body relaxes into the bed. The night falls quieter, and your mind feels blank.
You don’t know when you fell asleep or if he saw your fresh tears when he woke that morning.
Next
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pearldefiance · 1 year ago
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Weird trans girls make life worth living
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beansprean · 2 years ago
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Queening the Pawn Act 2 Part 6
Act 1
Act 2: Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10
(ID in alt and under cut)
ID: 1a. Close up of Nandor, tensed with shoulders up by his ears, grimacing slightly as he peeks one eye open. Offscreen, Guillermo sighs and grumbles "You're such a dick sometimes..." 1b. Reverse shot of Guillermo, body and head turned away from the viewer with one knee up on the couch and his opposite arm propped on the back. 1c. Close up of Nandor, now deeming it safe to open both eyes. He stares at Guillermo's back with apprehension and a complicated longing.
2a. Sepia toned panel showing Nadja and Laszlo in 1920s evening wear standing with arms around each other's waists. Nadja has her free hand on her hip and Laszlo's is in his pocket. They are looking down at Nandor with mixed pity and irritation. Nandor, wearing a fur coat and boots over a striped suit, is sitting on the ground with his legs stretched out and head slumped down, hair covering his face, staring at his open palms in his lap. Past Laszlo says, "This is what happens when you get attached to Familiar's, Nandor. Past Nadja says, "Humans are always temporary, you sweet stupid baby." Nandor talks over them from the present: "Laszlo and Nadja...say I get too attached." 2b. Close up on Guillermo, starting to turn in his seat to look back at Nandor, asking, "What does tha-" Nandor interrupts him from offscreen, snapping, "Turn your head, Guillermo!" 2c. Guillermo obliges, whipping his head back to face the wall with an irritated grumble. 2d. Close up of Nandor. Offscreen, Guillermo repeats, "What does that mean, Nandor?" Nandor stares at his lap, frustrated and embarrassed, replying, "Exactly what I have said!"
3. More sepia toned panels from the past, showing a string of former familiars. The first, an older white redheaded woman in a 1690s dress and hat, smiling politely at the viewer, saying "Oh, you're here. Has it really been so long?" The second, a white man with a neat goatee in a Victorian suit and tails, tipping his top hat down over his eyes with a fanged smile, saying "See ya, Mas- Nandor." The third, a plump young brown woman in a 1910s suitcoat, hat, and pearls, smiling beseechingly upward with newly minted fangs and saying "I promise I will write." The fourth is a young Benji in a loud 70s patterned shirt, polishing Nandor's white platform boogie boots with a faraway smile. He declares, "And when I'm a vampire, I'm finally gonna get out of Staten Island!" The fifth is a black woman wearing 90s overalls with long relaxed hair under a bandana, laughing uncomfortably and waving her hand dismissively at the viewer. She says, "Oh, haha, noooo. I mean, this place is great and all, but there's so much I want to do!" Nandor's voice from the present continues: "I get attached to these humans and I like them and... They never want to stick around!"
4a. A sepia toned Nandor from the past, reaching a hand out toward the viewer and saying, "I think you are deserving of a reward..." Nandor's voiceover from the present continues, the speech bubble eclipsing past Nandor's face: "So... I decided to just erase myself from their minds." 4b. Close up of Guillermo, face still turned toward the wall but clearly listening as Nandor continues, "I send them back to their lives before me and find a new familiar and decide to forget about them..." 4c. Reverse shot of Nandor, slumping forward in his chair, with a self depreciating grimace, eyes closed. He finishes his sentence: "...before I am to be getting so pathetic about it." 4d. Close up of Nandor in profile as he opens his eyes to stare at the floor, saying, "But...you..." He furrows his brow, trying to organize his thoughts. A flash of Guillermo from ten years ago flashes behind him, opening his collar and promising forever with a smile. 4e. Shot of Nandor from the front, hands folded together awkwardly in his lap. He looks up with large vulnerable eyes, still tense across his shoulders, as Guillermo finishes for him: "I was going to stay." 4f. Reverse shot of Guillermo on the couch, still turned away, his hand picking thoughtfully at the tassels on one of the many throw pillows. Offscreen, Nandor hesitantly responds, "...Yes." /end ID
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roxyzwritez · 5 months ago
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au writing shit idk
heres the Rough Plan for my first few eps:
ep1: the au branches off of canon in the final SU ep, Change Your Mind. renamed to Change Your World. when white yoinks the gem out of steven and pinksteven reforms and whiteasks W H E R E I S P I N K the response is something along the lines of "i am right here, but fuck you im not talking to you." (girlboss) and white gets the "im a child, what's your problem" and has the perfectionist meltdown, then steven's like "sorry but we gotta head out" and they're like "PINK WHAT THE FUCK?" steven goes "im not pink just leave earth alone" the gems agree and give steven The Legs™️.
pearl latches onto the idea that rose is still alive in there. (didn't write that tho just had it cut to this next bit oops) her and greg build a thing to connect to the gem that will essentially connect to pink/rose im just gonna call her rose damnit and allow her to communicate w everyone. shes like "...hey guys. uh. sorry for trying to kill myself i guess that didn't work but i have been minecraft spectating steven for the entirety of his existence with no ability to do anything but think and watch" pearl has a lesbian implosion, everyone's all happy n shit. steven eventually asks about the lying and she's like "yeag i done bad there. i just wanted to keep you guys together" (now that i think abt it there was no mention of bismuth here.. oops,) garnet gives her a Garnet Specil motivational speech and she's like "i missed you too garnet" (i forgot to mention, garnet violently explode-unfuses and ruby+sapphire are just bumbling with happy when rose spoke) amethyst has her own moment (she thought this was all bullshit and started playing fortnite upstairs but between games she heard rose and a p p e a r e d)
anyway rose then is thinking "oh man i gotta talk to so many ppl" and realizes eh guys nothing to worry abt just a HAPPY TO LISTEN, HAPPY TO STAY, HAPPILY WATCHING HER DR- but we should go there NOW" so they do, spinel is understandably distraught and breaks the gemspeaker in half but feels bad about it. she comes with the gang to earth, they show her around, a new gemspeaker is made and they reconcile. yippy! also spinel ate one of ALL. big donut flavors. sadie allowed this just for on e because steven is the LORD AND SAVIOR OF THE STEVEN UNIVERSE haha funny.
anyway she and bismuth talk. bis is kinda like "yeah i wasnt very gamer sorry about that herhee" again ignoring that SHE lied about the bubbling, conveniently forgot to explore that conversation for ease of writing and so i didn't need to go "how do i utilize my 2 iq points to channel these characters and get them to have a coherent, consistent to character conversation about this situation"
peri and lapis are called over by bismuth who doesn't say shit to them for the surprise. lapis is like "yeah ok hit me" peri is more curious. rose speaks, peridot fangirls and lapis is like "oh shit that's historically significant " peri is like "I NEED TO RESEARCH:)))" and runs off. spoiler: gem cloning
bis brings up the idea. rose is like "yeah that sounds legit" (the gem cloning conundrum took me way too long to understand. i drove my friend crazy. "hey can u explain every single quantum detail of this in the most verbose way i dont understand" but eventually i understood it JUUUUST enough to write it lmao i still don't get it)
rose n steven talk in roses room. all happy n shit. greg is told abt the plan and hes like oh shit i gotta clean up and steven is like "you know her standards. she don't give a shit" hes like "yeag"
peri makes progress! she made a little clump!! (explaining the gem cloning: theyre making essentially an empty gem with the powers but no consciousness inside. when its ready, white will take steven's gem out again, rose reforms, and the new gem gets ever so graciously stabbed into his belly where the old one was.)
peri tells steven its gonna take a year. he's like "well okay better than like hundreds of years" then he goes off to talk to the diamonds. he brings the speaker with. rose lets out the thousands of years of distrust and anger at the dismonds and they are humbled even more than when they got pinkd and rose is like "you WILL heal all the shattered ones i don't give a shit" and theyre like "whatever you say little one" (yes they do indeed heal the fallen. probably with regular shipments of steven fluid. that sounded wrong but im not a freak like that hes still 14)
also they go back home and steven talks to rose abt "you told the diamonds you literally wanted to die are you fr?" she explains and hes like YOU FATHERFUCKER, YOU ARE AMAZING AND YOU CAN'T DO THAT (crying)"
next episode is just year-long filler but i made it actually good by making it essentially a montage of lapis and peri in the barn becoming lesbian for eachother. finally, a controversial move on my part, they decide to overcome lapis's fear of fusion and fuse for stevens birthday. their fusion is turquoise (took way too long coming up with a fucking name) and can corrode (water + metal) and can morph/control metal (liquify n stuff. definitely not taken from a lapidot fusion concept i found on google images.) garnet is like "hey pearl look at these silly lesbians " pearls like "damn relatable" garnets like "yeag"
a week or a few after the bday, the gem is finally ready. everyone is excited until steven asks how this is gonna work. peri is like UHHHHH... 😊 and lapis is just "eh just take that one out, stick this one in!" peri goes NNNO- but after some damage control and telling everyone steven will be fine hes like "well i better get some good sleep then. big day!"
there's more but im done typing my fingers are about to go peridot and fuckin fly away let me know if you want the like 1other episode and the minisode after that
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