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satoruin · 3 months

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➣ matchmaking or meddling?

pairing: satoru gojo x gn!reader

word count: 1.6K

summary: you find out just how much your students have been meddling in your love life, though you can’t really be mad.

notes from lee: i’m afraid to make this look like an award acceptance speech so ill be brief. had to make a fic for the namesake of the blog and a very late hbd to boo (@2018-01-20). kinda wish i had more interactions with the kids, but i ended up w/ a lot of gojo pov also unedited

Looking back it should have been obvious what these kids of yours were up to. Yes, they were the reason you were in this god-forsaken closet with a blindfolded fool.

You’re only really aware of their meddling now as you hear their snickers from the hallway, so you can’t quite tell when their meddling started. But it makes sense that they were plotting something, but was it in collaboration with Satoru? Because it seemed like every mishap or coincidence between your two classes, Satoru took it in stride and turned it into his advantage. Just like he was taking advantage of the situation now…

Thinking back, your first clue should have been with the sticky notes. A note scrawled on a pink sticky note, in actually legible handwriting, addressed to you like a valentine. Reading, “from: Satoru ;D to: (y/n) <3; do you look this good every day or do i just not remove my blindfold enough????” It’s on top of a stack of papers handed over by the ever-stoic Fushiguro. Surely to get your guard down, and it did.

When you interrogate your fellow teacher about it later, he keeps his normal all-knowing grin plastered on his face. Now they, being the kids who orchestrated it, don’t need to do any work as every day after that there’s a new sticky note somewhere for you to see. They vary in color, most in some shade of pink, some with bad pick-up lines, others with a stick figure drawing, or the very rare ones hidden away with words that make you spit out your drink.

Or maybe another tip off should have been the ‘coincidental’ times you’d have the second years out on the training field and he just so happened to also plan a demonstration for the first years at the same time. But then again you don’t hear their snickering above your irritation at the white-haired man as he lets you jab a finger into his chest, with his annoying smirk.

But they notice you don’t care anymore that he peeks his head over your shoulder to look at your teaching outline just so he can do the ‘coincidental’ planning now.

And still the biggest hint that you fall for every time, is when they leave you at the cafe with just Satoru after begging for a weekend meetup. And again, when they ask to have team dinners, study sessions, or extra training, it's ridiculous. Your gullibility and trust in them is commendable, but it’s become laughable as you still trust in the kids to show up. And they do, just in disguise from across wherever you are as they watch Satoru come to your rescue every time.

Maybe the more ridiculous part is when the rare glimpse of their teacher’s eyes is pointed, peeking through their poorly crafted disguises, at them from across the room with a smirk.

He’s noticed for a while now that the kids are playing matchmaker, and their skills are much better than those his clan hires. And to be honest, he doesn’t mind, if anything he finds it cute that they think he needs the help. Though admittedly they do have some good ideas. Each one never fails to fluster you, in your own cute and angry way, as he takes over their schemes. His six-eyes catch the flurry of texts sent every time he does so, which he’s sure just encourages them further.

Satoru’s not quite sure when his feelings for you developed. He’s always found you attractive, especially when you were his cute kouhai (he still likes to call you that in order to annoy you until you begrudgingly call him senpai once again.). Everything he learns about you only adds to his initial interest. He’s a sucker for getting to know the little things, like your favorite dinner spot after a tough mission or what your ideal day off is. Once you accept his feelings he’ll put the knowledge you deem useless to good work.

But there’s a moment that sits so starkly in his memory as the first time he realized he was in love with you and not just intrigued or infatuated.

It was maybe around the time Tsumiki had gotten sick and though Megumi was self sufficient, Satoru didn’t feel that he should be alone. He knows he’s not the best at comfort, hell he could barely comfort himself, so he sends you.

And he’s not overly worried about you, you’re a teacher so he’s sure you’ll get through to the ever prickly Megumi just fine. Plus you’ve always been significantly better at handling emotional situations, he knows first hand. So when he comes to check on you after finishing his mission, he smiles at your success.

Megumi’s head rests on your lap, asleep, and you’re slumped over the armrest. There’s a twang of jealousy that pricks at his mind, wishing it was him in your lap instead, but all he can think about is having you greet him as he comes home and Megumi and Tsumiki sitting for dinner and that would be yours and his alone.

He’s never felt like someone that would settle down or want a family, especially given the circumstances of his status. But you, in this moment, make him want to move past the shrewdness of the higher ups and his clan, and just have you. He longs for something that is just his, not part of Jujutsu Society, the higher ups, or his clan, or even Satoru Gojo, he wants things just for Satoru, just for him.

You are that something, that someone, he wants, he’s convinced that he needs you like the air he breathes. The weird surge of emotions that have been kept bottled up since a dark day suddenly seems to make sense and it has a name, it’s love.

So when he’s reminiscing on his feelings, it really has been there all along, but it’s that very specific moment in which his love for you was defined.

And the apex of all his work in gently guiding you to realize your feelings, that he’s very sure are there, is in a closet of all places. His blue eyes glow dimly in the dark of the closet with the snickers of his students on the other side.

“Hey,” he breathes out, much less confident than he intended, but you make him nervous.

You meet his bright eyes briefly before looking away and returning the greeting, “Um, hi.”

His breath hitches and his mind blanks, every funny line or flirty remark he could make right now is gone. He can’t think about anything other than you, how cute your expression is, how good your hair looks even slightly messed up, but mainly your lips and how much he needs to kiss you before he leaves this cramped closet. “How are you?”

You blink at him incredulously, “We’re in a closet, Gojo. How do you think I am?”

He tosses his head back and groans as you use his last name, he thought he’d gotten you to call him Satoru like pretty much everyone did. “C’mon (Y/n), you know I hate when you call me that.” He whines and pouts, jutting his bottom lip out like a toddler.

He watches the guilt flash across your face briefly, surely it’s you remembering how he confided in you about hating the weight that came with his last name. “Sorry, I know. I know,” you pause and he senses your hesitancy and waits, “Satoru.”

He’s got a big shit-eating grin on his face that differs from his usual smirk as he rocks on his feet with his heart fluttering.

“You really like it that much when I call you ‘Satoru’?” You ask, eyeing up his body language with a skeptical look.

“Maybe.” He answers in a sing-song tone, he’s back to his usual self, “But you know what I’d like more?”

He leans in close and glances down at your lips. No matter how many times he does this, it always results in him pulling away with a teasing smile. So when he feels your hands wrap around the neck of his uniform and pull him closer, it’s certainly a surprise.

“You want a kiss?” You ask and he nods meekly, if possible, and you do, you kiss him. Satoru’s eyes flutter shut as his heart flutters in his stomach. His big hands reach up to cup your face and keep you glued to his lips. Gods, it’s everything he’s dreamed about and more.

When you part from him to catch your breath, he’s smiling. “I hope you know I want much more than a kiss.” He waits for you to breathe and to watch your reaction before smashing his lips onto yours again.

Satoru feels your arms wrapped around his neck and how your hands crawl through his undercut to tug at his hair. And he’s similar, the hands once holding your face have traced down your body to your hips so he can hold you close.

The knock on the door cuts your time short, your tongues and bodies having to part. Satoru watches as you smooth over your clothes and hair before he pulls up his blindfold. The door opens not a moment later to reveal the two classes waiting with bated breath to see something scandalous.

They are disappointed, fortunately for you and your image as a teacher. None of the students have the time to catch the heavy blush on his face as he slips away while you lecture them. But they do notice how flustered you are when you get a text from Satoru, “dinner 2nite?”

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #jjk x reader #gojo satoru #gojo #jjk #gojou satoru x reader #jjk gojo #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #satoru gojo #gojo x gender neutral reader #jjk satoru #gojou satoru x you #gojou satoru x y/n #! satoru gojo #[ lee's writing ]#[ + ] jjk

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lvrtwn · 4 months

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venus if she was awesome

speedpaint and more thoughts under the cut

venus has always been one of my favorite characters, though i feel her design is pretty underwhelming with a lot of wasted potential. this is kind of a redesign, kind of my own personal headcannon, and kind of how i imagined venus in my head as a kid.

this is supposed to be my version of g1 venus, more similar in facial features and keeping the straight hair. i absolutely love her new hair and face in g3 but im hesitant to call the new outfit an improvement. both g1s outfit and g3s outfit are bad in their own ways. i dont want it to seem like im shitting on the new design. again i think the face sculpts, hair, and body types of g3 are so awesome. its great to see more diversity being included in the designs. i just decided to go with g1 venuses look because thats the venus i grew up with

i definitely took some inspiration from g3s outfit for this design. i like the idea of it but the execution is just not great, not to say her original outfit is any better. i feel like out of all of tge original monsters she was the one with the most waisted potential. i love her personality and the abilities she has but the way she was styled has always bothered me.

in the movies shes described as “eco-punk” which is SUCH a cool style to go with a plant monster character. i just feel like the “punk” in “eco-punk” was never really represented in her outfits. i personally love punk music and clothing; ive been an active member in my local diy scene for many years and i love seeing all the outfits people put together.

i thought i would give her an outfit that shows off a couple of my personal favorite staples of punk style. big chunky leather boots with lots of straps and buckles. kept the shoe mouths from the original because they cool as hell. lots of leather, studs, spikes. i gave her denim cutoff shorts inspired by her gen 3 outfit, same with the torn black top. punk style has a big focus on comfort, practicality, and making things yourself. i imagine she cut a pair of old pants into shorts, roughly cut her “undead kennedys”band shirt tank into a crop top, and probably repurposed the remaining fabric. i also totally didnt draw this whole thing as an excuse to use that pun. i included asymmetrical leg accessories, with one fishnet stocking and one torn up sock. i also feel like she repurposed these, continuing to wear her old torn up socks instead of just throwing them out. i gave her a big chunky studded belt matching one of her cuffs with a recycling symbol belt buckle. i feel like it communicates an important aspect of her personality just at a glance, plus i just love big belt buckles. lastly i added piercings because 1. theyre cool and 2. i for some reason remembered her having an eyebrow piercing but i guess she never had one.

i mostly kept her body and hair the same. changed her ears and hair color slightly but thats just personal preference. i decided to make the vines on her body look more like tattoos instead of being 3d. i imagine she can make them grow into real vines, but when shes not using her powers theyre just flat against her skin. gave her a facial expression that made her look a little more unhinged. she might only do things for the good of the earth but she can still mind control people at will.

i wish i leaned a little bit more into the plant theming but im overall still super happy with how this came out. maybe ill made more monster high redesigns in the future

#monster high #monster high gen 1 #monster high redesign #venus mcflytrap

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theladyismyshepard · 2 months

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Hi there I haven't requested anything here in almost 2 years now and I won't lie I miss it, so if it's alright can I ask for Astarion and shadowhearts separate reaction to the Reader who is a magic user coming from a different world where magic is seen as a disease and those who have control of it are marked with a lightning like mark on their cheek

(Similar to the bearer mark from FF16)

I actually have a dusty old draft that's been collecting 2 years worth of cobwebs and it's a WIP that haunts me every time I see it when I open my drafts... and that just so happened to be a request of yours @adryanscott... so for you? Anything at all. The outline seems a little different, but bear with me

Tags: Mentions of abuse, torment, descriptions of chronic illness, Bearer enslavement canon to FF universe

Will You Be My Final Fantasy?

You were but a child when the magic lying dormant beneath your skin burst forth, crackling at your fingertips and ready to be cast. You were but a child when you yourself was cast away by your own parents, your entire world shifting upside down when you were sold off to the highest bidder. Gaia did not feel too much like home anymore, not when the people you had come to know as family and friends looked upon you with such disdain. The neck-breaking pace of which you had gone from carefree to chained was a shellshock that you were forced to adapt quickly to lest you learn the lesson of just how expendable you really were to your own people. At first, it had cut you so deep down that it pierced your soul.

Once the branding tattoo had marked the flesh of your cheek to signify the power brewing underneath, you were scorned. The people of Gaia thought you to be diseased and more monster than human. They feared your power and what you might be capable of, so they had come up with the idea of the bearer mark. Not only did it act as a red flag to warn others that you possessed natural magic and that you were owned, it dulled your powers in a painful way that left you with a permanent uncomfortable itch just beneath your skin. No amount of scratching or tearing away at the skin of your cheek would bring you relief, and at first, your struggle provided a great source of amusement for your enslavers until you began slacking on the quality of your duties.

As the years gave way to decades, the fiery fury that fueled your desire to see another day had slowly begun dwindling. You felt as if you yourself was an upturned hourglass, and with each grain of sand that flowed with time, your hope for something better faded with it. All you were living for was an end… an end to your torment, an end to your captors, an end to your miserable existence. You weren’t sure if you’d call yourself lucky or not that your Masters demanded back-breaking physical labor from you rather than casting spells at their convenience. With each draw of your magic, you felt a stiffening in your bones that brought with it a deep chill that was impossible to ward off. Maybe you were diseased…

The day had started as any other had in the past couple decades, with you rising in time with the sun to get prepared for a gruesome day of withering yourself away to nothing. As you glanced up to the sky to watch the first peeks of sunlight bleeding into the blanket of night, you couldn’t help the furrow of your brow when you noticed a small tear. Your lips parted, but as you took a step forward for a closer look to assure yourself that you weren’t hallucinating, there was an audible ripping sound as the tear in the sky widened into a large hole. Before you could even feel fear chill the blood in your veins, there was a gigantic ship soaring through, and across the horizon. You had never seen such a horrific-looking vessel that had long, flowing tentacles such as the one overhead at the moment, and your flight instincts kicked you into overdrive as it veered in your direction.

There was no time to register the long, fluid shadow of the tentacle hovering over you before it struck, and all you could do was watch on in horror as your hands began to disintegrate. First, you lost feeling in your fingers before the cracks broke apart your wrists, leaving nothing in its wake. The disintegration process didn’t take long to travel along the lengths of your forearms and up your biceps, and no amount of harsh gasps of air could pull enough breath into your lungs. You were fading fast. As your arms disappeared, you began to choke on the tightness in your chest before ash peppered your tongue and lodged itself along the walls of your throat. With a final gurgle, your eyes disintegrated and darkness enveloped you until there was nothing left.When you had awoken, you discovered yourself in a world where nearly everyone wielded magic. It was a culture shock that left you reeling, and even though you witnessed open displays of magic, even from some of your own party members, with no repercussions involved, you didn’t feel safe enough to expose yourself for what you were.

Shadowheart –

Even as you found yourself drawn towards Shadowheart, and felt yourself relating to the air of mystery (you understood better than anyone the need to bury the past and never let anyone see), you were so traumatized and so used to being seen as an animal to be used until broken that you could not speak the words. You were too fearful of being cast away yet again.

When Shadowheart had kissed you after revealing some of her own memories, you had tasted the bitterness of both the wine and of your own backstory on your tongue. It was the perfect moment to open up to the cleric, especially when you had never seen her eyes look so soft as they did when they gazed upon you at that moment. She had even asked you about your Bearer’s mark…but panic had seized control over any inklings of rationality you had left, and you had mumbled something about “everyone else had one” and “giving into the peer pressure”… The romantic atmosphere didn’t go any further than that, and you were grateful because the tightness in your chest proved too distracting to properly worship Shadowheart’s body. As you learned more and more of Shadowheart and who she affiliated herself with, you gauged other people’s reactions and deduced that her magic was frowned upon by many.

Her head never ducked beneath the weight of heated gazes sent her direction, and she never faltered at barbed words spat at her. You were in awe of how confident and self-assured she seemed in her worship, and you felt the connection between you two surpassing just your ability to relate. You admired Shadowheart to the point where you wanted to be more like her. You wanted to be free… But as you glanced between the woman you had come to care for and the shackled Nightsong, you couldn’t help thinking that Shadowheart was the true one in chains. To give blood, sweat, and tears your entire life and still have to fight through fire for any scraps of approval… it sounded too close to home for you. And if you yourself could never be free of the chains still holding you to Gaia, you would fight like hell to rid Shadowheart of hers.

You knew talking her down would prove challenging, but what you didn’t expect was how easily you had revealed your magic to the indignant woman. It was the accusation of you being clueless and ignorant spat so venomously at you that did you in. What do I know?! What do you know?! And it was the same moment your irritation boiled over that you remembered that she would never know if you refused to say something. Before she could turn her assault back onto the Nightsong, you sent a wave of your worst memories through your connection, and you were so overwhelmed yourself that you didn’t notice Shadowheart falter.

You can smell the leather of bootstraps as your bones snapped beneath heavy stomps. You can feel the sting of your open wounds rubbed with salts. You can hear the mocking laughter as your body writhes in a pool of your own blood. The stench of your boiled flesh was so pungent that you could almost taste it. There was a gnawing hunger that threatened to eat away at your stomach, and after a while, any thought of food would make you sick enough to dry heave. Through it all, there was the constant heartbeat in your cheek where the mark was tattooed. Sometimes you fear that the poison used in crafting the ink had seeped into your very pores and was burning you from the inside out. You were itchy, and so very stiff… And you couldn’t tell anyone. Keep your pain hidden. No one can help you. They’ll all hate you. You’ll be sent ba–

There were hands cradling your face, and the abrupt touch had you jolting out of your memories. Shadowheart was standing before you with tears welling up in her eyes and spilling down her cheeks. Concern and anger had flared across your connection as she glanced you up and down, desperately searching you for any lingering wounds or scars. Her eyes stopped on the lightning-shaped mark on your cheek, and you felt her thumb trace the skin below it, too hesitant to cause you additional hurt. You hiccuped as you became emotional at finally revealing the extent of your torment to the woman you loved. Your hands were shaking as you reached up to loosely grasp at her wrists, and she curled one hand around the back of your neck to bring your foreheads together.

“Never again,” Shadowheart swore thickly past her own tears, “No one will ever harm you again, not for this, not for anything…”

Your shoulders shook as an impending panic attack loomed over you.

You were taught to be ashamed of who you were, that you were less of a being and deserved the world’s spite just for being alive. You had watched people just like you call upon their magic one time too many, and the stiffness in their bones overtook them and morphed them completely into stone before withering away to dust. You were afraid of yourself for a very long time, and here this woman stood before you with nothing but love and sorrow on her face. Sorrow for what you had gone through, sorrow that you felt forced to hide from her, sorrow for you thinking you were anything less than perfect. She leaned up to place the gentlest kiss you’ve ever felt on your mark, and butterflies filled your stomach as your heart started racing.

“You have always been magnificent… I love you,” Shadowheart insisted earnestly, both of her hands now holding you close by the back of your neck, “And magic or no magic could make me need you any less, I assure you… Could you ever hate me for my magic?”

“Wh- No!” You rush to insist, but your shoulders deflate as her point reaches you… Maybe it was time to finally let yourself believe that you were really out of that place, and you never had to go back.

“I know what it’s like when something is too hard to let yourself believe… but you’ve helped me to see that there just might be the sweetest of rewards in doing so,” Shadowheart said before capturing your lips in a kiss intended to banish all doubt, and when she pulled away, she finally turned back to the Nightsong with nothing but sympathy in her heart.

You watched on in amazement as Shadowheart broke three sets of chains all at the same time.

— — — — — — — —

Astarion —

Despite the fact that a vampire had threatened to kill you in self-defense and still joined your party, you couldn’t bring yourself to fully open up. Each time his silky smooth words were close enough to reach you, your chest would seize up, keeping any and all secrets trapped within. As the weeks turned into months, you and Astarion had grown closer along the dusty trail. You had helped him to feel safe enough to confide in you about Cazador and the torments he had endured by his Master’s hand. You had felt your own misery and pain bubbling within your vocal chords, just begging to be released and revealed to the vampire. If anyone could understand the years of enslavement you had gone through because of your magic, it would be Astarion.

But throughout decades of cruelty, punishment, and humiliation, the one thing you never learned how to endure was being looked at as if you were something to be treasured rather than exploited. You knew where to cover when the blows started coming, you knew how to disassociate when the hunger set in, you knew what it was like to be more dead on the inside than on the outside… But you didn’t know how to react to any display of affection. How were you supposed to respond? You never quite learned how to convey compassion or how to accept it, and all you could do was curse yourself when you’d notice his shoulders slump the tiniest bit before his signature smirk was back in place to hide his own vulnerability.

But you had seen the smallest glimmer of how truly broken Astarion was, and now that you did, there was no unseeing it. Every sugary drawl, every deflecting answer, every flirtatious banter, it was all a facade, one that always seemed two steps away from crumbling. You wanted to help him, to fill in every fissure of his cracked heart with your presence until the very idea of Cazador was gone from his being, but you still felt too diseased yourself. When your fingers itched to reach out and comfort him when you’d notice the foggy haze of the past clouding over his eyes, you’d instead lift them to scratch at your burning bearer’s mark.

And bless him, Astarion had asked you about the tattoo one night after you had let him feed from you. You two were lying side-by-side as you gazed up into the vast blanket of stars, and there was a comfortable silence between you two that had only been broken by the question. He made no immediate comment even though you knew he felt you tense up next to him and you greatly appreciated it, especially knowing his penchant for starting trouble and watching others flounder in it. Before you could even attempt to think quickly on your feet, his hand had snuck down between your bodies to grab yours, and you were the one linking your fingers, squeezing his grip as the tension left your body. Only when he felt you fully relaxed did he assure you that that sounded like a topic better suited for another time. Your clasped hands never let go, even as you two fell asleep.

When your travels had brought the party to Baldur’s Gate, it was a chaotic mess with people wedged into any and every crevice. There were murderous cultists, sneaky thieves, and Astarion’s “sibling” spawns lurking about. The vampire tried his hardest to appear unaffected by the warnings, and he was successful to those on the outside looking in, but the tadpole connection was a deeper rooted relationship that proved nearly impossible to withdraw from. His emotions were a waged war, going back and forth and back again, and you so badly wanted to reach out and grab his hand to comfort him just as he did for you, but you had the same suspicion that this was a topic better suited for another time.

But you felt it, boy did you feel it through your connection… The same haunting feeling that clung to your bones, the chronic illness that stiffened your joints and left you too restrained in your own body, the horrific notion that you would never really belong to yourself, not ever again. Astarion’s back was rigid the entire way to camp, all traces of his charismatic aura gone. He was on edge, and would remain so forever until his Master was defeated, releasing him from the invisible chains still binding him. The rest of the party knew well enough to give him space (though everyone pretty much had their own problems they were in the middle of overcoming), but you would not leave him to wallow in the burning itch to go forth and rip, tear, kill…

You had the sense to bump up the urgency of seeking out Cazador’s lair and striking him down in Astarion’s name… but if he was as powerful as led to believe, and if there would be a chance of losing each other, that night wouldn’t be for Cazador, it would be for you and your love for Astarion, for him and his love for you. If he required a night of distraction to get him to the impending final showdown the next day, you would offer whatever he needed; If he needed blood, if he needed words, if he needed your body… With each gentle kiss that you placed on his skin, he seemed a little less further away. And as you watched him cum and was immediately brought to your own peak as well, you knew then that you would do anything to free this beautiful man.

You let that thought guide you as Astarion was forced under Cazador’s influence once more. The sight of him entrapped in the red beacon of his Master’s control had petrified you. To reach his full Ascension, Cazador had to absorb the special spawns’ life source, reducing them to a pile of ash, and you were paranoid with each attack he unleashed, each time he opened his mouth, that he would utter the spell to take Astarion away from you. When you could no longer withstand the mental torment, you raised your hand, and watched the magic crackle to life at your fingertips. Your cheek was burning, and you could see from your peripheral that your lightning-shaped mark was glowing, but you didn’t let it dissuade you. You were on a mission to save your lover, and you would use everything in your arsenal to do it, including your magic, even if it crystalized you in the process.

Your party members were thoroughly surprised to see you casting spells, but you couldn’t focus on that, not when Cazador was staggering on bended knee before attempting to rush back to his coffin. As Astarion dropped to the ground, he wasted no time in chasing after to peel the lid away before Cazador could begin healing himself. A weight lifted from your own chest when Astarion drove a dagger through his biggest nightmare over and over until his own sobbing pain began bleeding dry. He was free… and you will be, too…

As you stiffly knelt at Cazador’s dead body, right beside Astarion– always beside Astarion– you cupped his cheek with one hand, and grabbed the back of his neck with the other before bringing him into the sweetest of kisses. You scratched at the hairs at the base of his neck and before you could talk yourself out of it, you released all of your memories through your connection. You felt his gasp on your lips, but you pressed on, he deserved to know your biggest secret considering he shared his with you. He needed to know that you saw him… far deeper that he originally knew. You could taste his tears even after he pulled away.

“Oh darling…” Astarion whispered, his throat raw from screaming himself hoarse while boiling over, “I hate that you understand a little more than others… and I hate that such a beautiful soul like yourself has been bruised so heavily.”

You sagged into him before hugging him tightly. He began petting your hair and cooing praises into your ear, pressing an occasional kiss to your forehead every so often. You eventually craned your neck and caught his lips into a kiss, and if he couldn’t sense the love through it, you made sure to spread the warmth through your tadpole connection. His lips curled into a smile wide enough to break the kiss before he collected himself enough to pepper a handful of quick kisses onto your own bashfully grinning mouth.

“You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me–well…” His eyes momentarily cut down to Cazador’s body before meeting yours unwaveringly. “And I would continue to love you lifetimes after you were gone, only hoping you would return to me again someday.”

He dropped a reverent kiss to the back of your hand, brought you into one last searing kiss, and moved to stand, helping you up as he went. Astarion had a way of making you feel so safe and loved, even when exposing yourself, your body and your secrets. He would always assure you that he has his own skeletons in his closet… but at least they were finely dressed might he add.

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kokoasci · 1 month

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hey hiii love your art and i am astonished by your background composition, is there a process behind that or maybe tips you would share ?

hi!! thank you! this kind of like depends per piece, im not a professional artist (compsci student, so take my advice as a student with no formal art studies with enough salt to taste) but i do have a kind of general-ish process that i can talk about like with this scara piece comp:

i work pose first, composition second: i.e. i draw a pose and usually refine it before i start thinking about a background lol 😭

working general -> specific is my best friend, and I think it also helps me evolve a drawing as i go, since i don't usually have an idea for a full composition when i start (that's so stressful to me LMAO) you can see this progress here (i erased the basic guidelines though so theres no facial features, but i usually leave the face for last anyway because it helps me fit in an expression better)

by the time i have a full pose THEN ill start refining to an actual composition. this is also the point at which i decide to start putting actual effort in

then i just. fill the background with objects, usually ones that have a connection to the character or vibe im trying to fit. this is a weird example because the only things i know about scaramouche is there's some sort of like connection with puppets and he also likes his vision so i played with that idea, which is kind of where those fishes and the general pose came from. (i go into more detail about this here!)

i originally wanted to have puppet strings for those objects as you can see below but it made the final piece kind of muddy so i took them out :(

then its just coloring, which is usually what takes me the longest because im so. indecisive 😭 i like to keep depth and 3d space as the like #1 thing in my mind while coloring though and how shadows will work with that, because i think it helps a piece pop out way more

and that's how i get my compositions !! i make it seem pretty streamlined here please know it's a lot of redoing whole parts of the drawing and fixing the background/foreground until im happy with the finished result

thank you for asking, i hope this helped answer the question <3

#ask koko #you all should see the reference pictures i had to take for this LMAOOO i look so angry in them its so embarassing #but the drawing turned out well so. it was worth it #thank you for asking!#scaramouche

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mirrortouchedsea · 19 days

Text

(CW for Suicidal Ideation)

Hinata’s breath was heavy as he landed the final move of their act. The tinny music playing from their speakers went quiet and the audience clapped politely. It was always the same song and dance as the crowd moved on with their day. A few of them tossed some yen their way but otherwise it was time for them to regroup for their next performance. Yuta knelt down by the hat with some coins and bills sticking out of it, counting their earnings thus far.

“Hey aniki! We might be able to eat well tonight! There’s like 3,000 yen in here!” Yuta exclaimed. The idea of a filling dinner made Hinata’s mouth water. Oh what he wouldn’t do for even warm noodles not from a cup.

Hinata turned to grab the iPod from its place on the speaker, choosing the next song to play. He put the phone back and turned the volume up a little more to play over the evening rush. The music started and he and Yuta moved in unison around their little stage, taking in the crowd. There were some regulars that Hinata recognized, the businesswoman who was perpetually tired but always stopped for their performances and a few kids who looked up at them in awe as their parents were trying to usher them away. There were always new faces too, of course people traveled across the country all the time or took new trains or moved cities, but there was something different about the boy with the bright red hair at the back of the crowd. His sky blue eyes pierced straight through to Hinata’s heart and made him stumble when their gaze connected with his own.

“Hey, aniki focus! We’re almost done, don't fail on me now!” Yuta whispered, carefully shielding Hinata from the crowd as he regained his footing. Yuta was always so quick thinking. Hinata got back to his position and finished up the routine, eyes looking for that boy he had spotted earlier. He half hoped the boy would come talk to them afterwards while they were packing up for the evening, but when he finally saw that shock of red hair, it was moving away with the rest of the crowd.

Hinata sighed, disappointed. Maybe that boy would come back someday. There was something about him that drew Hinata in.

Someone bumped his shoulder, drawing him from his thoughts. “Hey, aniki, are you alright? You seem out of it today.” Yuta’s hand rested on his shoulder and Hinata couldn’t help but smile. Wasn’t it supposed to be the other way around, the older brother checking in on the younger one?

“Hey hey everything’s fine Yuta-kun, don’t worry about me. I was just thinking about that delicious dinner you’re treating us too~” He playfully pushed back on Yuta, the red haired blue eyed boy all but forgotten now.

“Hey! It’s technically our money so I’m not treating you to anything!” Yuta scowled but the smile in his voice was obvious to Hinata.

“Hehe, then dinner’s on me! Say ‘thank you aniki!’”

---

It was a week before Hinata saw the red headed boy in their audience again. He had all but slipped his mind, but those striking blue eyes were impossible to forget. Yuta was introducing their next performance which allowed Hinata to take a better look at the older boy who had made his way to the middle of the audience. He was tall and what Hinata could see of his outfit seemed ill-fitting at best, along with a headband holding his hair away from his eyes.

Hinata scrambled to his position as the music queued up and let his instincts take over. Every so often he found himself glancing at the red haired boy, trying to see what he thought of their performance, but his face revealed nothing.

Why was he so focused on this one boy? It’s not like they didn’t have strangers who watched them sometimes, and none of them had caught Hinata’s attention quite like this boy. He really couldn’t be much older than Hinata, maybe 17 at the oldest. Was he an older brother too? The boy’s eyes made contact with Hinata’s and it took everything in him to not look away.

Once again however, Yuta snapped him out of whatever trance he had been in and everything was forgotten.

“Are you really okay aniki? You’ve been out of it a lot recently…” Oh how it pained Hinata to see the concern on Yuta’s face. Nothing was even really wrong per se, but Hinata was distracted nonetheless.

“I’m fine, Yuta-kun. Geez, can’t your older brother have some peace?” His mouth ran faster than his brain and he immediately regretted it. Yuta’s face flipped through several emotions; hurt, confusion, exhaustion. It wasn’t like him to hide things from his brother, so why was he doing it now? “Whatever, let’s get some dinner. My treat~”

“It’s our money!”

---

The boy continued to make appearances at the twins’ performances on the street, becoming something of a regular but disappearing before Hinata could flag him down. Hinata wasn’t even sure what compelled him to want to talk to the older boy, but he wanted to say something. He had even noticed that the boy seemed happier and his clothes fit a little better, not like they were just the first thing he grabbed out of a donation pile.

Finally, after almost a month of trying to say something to the boy, Hinata saw him walk up to their hat on the ground and drop a few coins into it.

“Thank you!” He said, walking up to the boy. “Hope you enjoyed the performance!”

The boy froze as if he wasn’t expecting to be greeted like that. There was a slight flush to his face. “I-it’s nothing, don’t worry about it. You uh…you were great?” The boy seemed unsure of how to reply, though Hinata was happy with the compliment nonetheless. Maybe…

“What brings you here? I mean--agh, sorry! I just mean…I noticed you don’t have a regular schedule?” The words were practically falling out of his mouth and Hinata wasn’t really sure what they were doing. “Like you show up a few days in a row but then go three weeks without stopping by at all!” He was just digging a bigger grave for himself! Great!

“Ah uhm…I’m not from around here.” The boy scratched at the back of his neck. Maybe Hinata should back off.

“O-oh, yeah of course. Duh. Are you visiting family or something?”

“Not quite. I really should get going though. See you…later?”

“Yeah, see you later.”

“Hey Aniki, are you coming or not? The food’s gonna get cold!”

“Coming!”

---

It was almost a month before the boy appeared again. In the time between, Hinata had come up with a million different ideas for what his life was like. Was he a delinquent who skipped school to hang out on the street with gangs (how scary! But he looked strong enough to fit in)? Or was he a runaway from a city far away, somewhere Hinata only dreamed of visiting like Okinawa? Maybe he had a bad relationship with his dad and ran away, a thought that Hinata hated to admit had crossed his mind more than once. Or maybe he just passed through the city on the way to somewhere else. That seemed to be the most likely option, especially if he couldn’t come very often.

When the boy did finally show up again, Hinata had to hold himself back from practically jumping him after the performance. Something looked…different about him though. His eyes seemed more tired? Like he hadn’t been sleeping well. Hinata thought of a fight he had with his dad a few weeks ago that made it hard for him to sleep and thought maybe this boy was the same as him in that regard.

Hinata decided to wave him down after the performance, hat in hand (they had done pretty well! It felt heavier than normal and even without counting everything, they’d probably have enough for breakfast too).

“Hey! You look tired, are you--did you want to get something to eat?” Please say yes please say yes please say yes--

The boy’s mouth opened, then closed, then opened again. Did Hinata mess up? Oh he overstepped and now there really wasn’t any chance of getting to know him. Why was he so interested in talking to the boy anyway? Hinata had been asking himself that for a while now and he still had no answer.

“I…I can’t. I need to go.” The boy turned and ran off before Hinata could ask more. He just kept messing up, didn’t he? Maybe he really was just a burden to Yuta and their dad and the restaurant owner. He shouldn’t have been born and Yuta would’ve been better off--

“Aniki! Sheesh, get your head out of the clouds. How much did we make?” Yuta grabbed the hat out of Hinata’s hand and quickly counted out the coins and bills. “Woah! We could eat a whole five course meal with this…”

“Think with your head a little Yuta-kun. We’ve got breakfast paid for if we don’t blow it all tonight!”

Yuta nodded before handing the hat back to Hinata. “So, my pick tonight?”

---

Hinata signed the note, trying his best to keep the tears from dripping on it and smudging the ink. After his blunder with the red haired boy, he hadn’t shown up to their performances for over two months. Hinata was certain that he had messed up and was too forward. He didn’t even know the kid’s name! Why did he think the two of them could ever be friends?

And on top of all of that, Yuta had become more and more distant from Hinata, as if Hinata just existing was dragging him back from his full potential. Yuta would have been better off as an only child and maybe Hinata deserved this life. Thirteen years living with their father, who had treated them as nothing but monsters, blaming them for their mother’s death and everything bad that had happened since, Hinata had resolved to run away. He’d make his way to the mountains and maybe he’d find someone willing to help him or maybe he’d slip into an endless sleep.

Dear Yuta-kun, the letter had started. I’m sorry that I’m leaving like this, but I know that I’m just a burden to you. I’m sorry for that. I wish I had more to say but I just want you to be happy and maybe father will treat you better without me. I love you.

The other letter, already folded and placed on the table, was much shorter, addressed to his father.

Dear Father, I’m sorry I couldn’t be a better son. Please don’t take this out on Yuta-kun, it was my decision.

The less words he spent on that man, the better. Hinata folded Yuta’s note and placed it on top before quietly exiting through the front door.

---

Everything was cold. Hinata slumped against a tree, head between his knees in a last ditch effort to keep warm. Sleep should come soon and he could painlessly move on, at least that’s what he hoped. He barely registered someone approaching him, but didn’t look up.

“Hey.” The voice was vaguely familiar, but where did he remember it from? A warm hand shook at Hinata’s shoulder.

“‘M fine.” The words were barely a whisper. The other voice grunted before walking away. It was another minute before Hinata felt something drape around his shoulders and a cup shoved in his hand. Whatever was in it was steaming, warming his fingers.

“Drink.” The voice said. And he did, the tea was very, very bitter. That voice…

Hinata looked up, meeting a pair of bright, sky blue eyes. That’s where he recognized the voice from. Did he…live? In the mountains? The boy seemed to recognize him too. He was wearing a headband and what looked like very warm clothes that Hinata wished he had. Hinata finished the tea, trying not to focus on the flavor. It helped at least, in warming him up a bit.

“Why are you here?” The boy finally spoke again. It sounded like he was unsure if he should be mad or concerned, or both, but he offered Hinata another cup of tea, which he accepted if only to warm his fingers up. He pulled the blanket closer around his body.

“I…ran away.” Hinata looked downward, as if admitting this out loud was a cardinal sin. The boy gestured for him to continue. “I guess I just…I was dragging my brother down. I’m not really talented at anything like he is and I’m the reason our dad sees us as monsters. He shouldn’t have to deal with a brother like me.” Hinata wasn’t really sure why he was spilling this so easily. The boy was a good listener though, hanging on every word Hinata spoke. Was he shaking? He’d never admitted this out loud before and it felt oddly freeing to say it to someone.

He waited for a response, anything to chase away the uncomfortable silence Hinata had created with his confession. He really fucked up, didn’t he. He should have just kept that to himself like he always did instead of burdening a stranger like this!

“I…” The boy started, barely audible above Hinata’s racing heartbeat. “I’m glad you’re alive.” He sounded unsure of his words. Was he just trying to be nice? Of course he was, how else do you respond to a kid telling you something like this?

“You don’t have to pretend.”

“I’m not. When I saw you singing and dancing…I think I realized something--” The boy cut himself off, the suddenness of it making Hinata look up. A moment later he heard his brother calling out from the woods behind him.

“Aniki! There you are!” Yuta tackled him to the ground, squeezing Hinata like he might just blow away in the wind if they weren’t careful. “You scared me! I can’t believe you’d do something like that!”

Tears pricked at Hinata’s eyes again. “I’m sorry, Yuta-kun. I’m really sorry.” He buried his face in Yuta’s jacket. His nose started to run, from the cold or the tears he couldn’t tell.

“You aren’t a burden to me. I don’t know what I’d do without you around Aniki!” Yuta pulled back, hands gripping Hinata’s shoulders. “Promise you won’t do something that stupid again.”

Hinata wiped the tears from his eyes, sparing a glance where the boy had been. It was as if he had never been there at all and Hinata had just hallucinated the whole interaction. He looked back at his twin brother. “I promise.”

“Now let's get you home and warmed up. Where’d you get this blanket anyway? It doesn’t look like one of ours.”

“I…” The boy had been real, and he told Hinata he was glad he was alive (even if his explanation was cut short by Hinata’s brother rushing in). “I guess I just found it. There must be people living nearby or something.”

---

The chatter of the night club died down for the night as everyone was getting ready to go home. Hinata’s feet were sore from running around, but it was satisfying to be back in a restaurant like this. It reminded him of his childhood working for the Chinese restaurant with Yuta.

Rinne, the leader of Crazy:B who had wanted to get closer to Hinata, and by extension 2wink, slid a drink down the bar. It looked like a horrible mix of syrups and club soda, but one sip was all it took for Hinata to drink it all down.

“Great job tonight Hina! You’re a real natural at this stuff.” Rinne was washing the other glasses behind the bar now as Hinata finished the rest of his soda.

“Yuta-kun and I used to work in a restaurant so it comes pretty naturally to us!”

“That so?”

“Mhm!” Hinata slid the empty glass back to Rinne, who quickly dumped the ice and washed it before tossing the towel over his shoulder. The entire week they’d been working the club together, there had been something bugging Hinata at the back of his mind. “Hey, Rinne-senpai…did you ever watch our shows?”

“Huh? ‘Course I have, vice prez wants us to work together so I’ve seen a few of ‘em.”

“That’s not what I mean. I mean like…back when Yuta-kun and I did street performances.”

Rinne paused for a moment. “Why’re you askin’?”

“Oh, it’s nothing. You just reminded me of someone who used to watch them.”

“Well I’m sure whoever it was is proud to see you singin’ and dancin’ on stage.” Rinne had come around the bar and stood next to Hinata, ruffling his hair. “Let’s get goin’ or I’m never gonna hear the end of it from Niki-kun.”

#shay writes #enstars #ensemble stars #hinata aoi #yuta aoi #rinne amagi #OKAY ITS DONE I'M NOT THINKING ABOUT THIS PIECE ANYMORE. FUCK MAN #its at least finally no longer a wip. that's all i can say #got one person who said they liked it so to the blog it goes!!!#one less wip to worry about yippie!!!#2.8k words of me being a bit silly. that's what this is.#i probably could have extended the end a bit but augh if i thought about it any longer i would literally pass away #fuck that shit #so here we go. enjoy. i have a whole essay about aoi and amagi parallels i need to write one of these days when i reread mainstory #i'm working on reading boarding live rn i have like 9 chapters left. i'd keep working rn but augh eepy #probably just gonna watch an ep of a3 and go to bed or smth #anyway enjoy!!!! feels good to finish something a bit longer #probably no wip wednesday tomorrow just bc this is all i worked on this week...#also this is a second draft i never do that. well not never i've done it before #and this is i think a significant improvement on the first #okay i'm done tag talking for realsies byeeeeeee enjoy

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zxmickeyzx · 10 months

Text

Mumbattan Cafe Ch. 1

Barista! Pavitr x Artist! Miles

Miles came into the cafe for some chai tea, to see his friend Gwen on her shift and make some art while relaxing in the cafe. Instead he got some Barista who looked very annoyed when he tried to order and then became very passionate about ranting to him about how people say chai tea instead of just saying chai. Miles didn't mind him lecturing him on it though.

At least it was from someone so cute.

Masterlist ~ Next

Today was an opposite day for Miles. For once he woke up pretty early, early enough to put on some nicer clothes than usual, wearing a simple pair of army green cargo pants with a red sweatshirt and his usual headphones around his neck. He usually wore sweatpants, some kinda t-shirt that could get messy and a bomber jacket since it was easier to wear when rushing out of his apartment for classes and no one really cared what you wore in college. Especially in art classes.

Since he got up pretty early this time around he decided to do some light cleaning in his room and around the house. Ganke was thankfully a heavy sleeper so Miles could be as loud as he wanted in the mornings or late at night. Miles still wonders how he was acing all his classes.

As soon as he was done cleaning up his space for a bit, he decided to see if his friend Gwen wanted to hangout. He liked the energy that would bounce off each other while doing their craft. The amount of inspiration they both got was something to behold. They were good friends from the academy as well as being in most of each other's classes so it was bound to happen. At some point he used to have a crush on her, but they never pursued anything and realized they were better off as friends.

As Miles was waiting for a response from Gwen, he started thinking about what he should eat. He could whip up something, but with the way his mother raised him, he might get full cooking while tasting the food to make sure he gets it right and he didn't want to deal with the dishes afterwards. Maybe he could make a quick sandwich. Yeah that sounded pretty good at the moment.

Before that sandwich idea really took off his phone vibrated in his hand. It was his friend Margo asking him if he had done the assignment Mr.O’hara posted on class site. He did the assignment as soon as he could because he usually felt like Mr. O’hara usually had it out for him. He quickly responded to Margo telling her yes, and sent his version of the instructions to the assignments since his teacher liked to over complicate things in his wording and instructions. She texted him a quick thanks and asked what his plans are for today, to which he responds he is waiting for Gwen to text him back about hanging out.

“Morning”

Miles looked up to see Ganke half-awake, going to the fridge to rummage through it. His friend settled on some cereal by the time his phone vibrated again.

Turns out Gwen is working at her Job currently since someone called out sick according to Margo. The cafe Gwen worked at was a small but decently popular place. He could see her and grab a quick bite to eat. He loved the vibes of the cafe, it felt homey. Maybe even stay and draw some art.

Miles ponders on the thought a bit more, until his thoughts are interrupted.

“Miles!”

He whipped his face to look at Ganke, who sighs.

“Dude, you okay? I’ve been trying to get your attention for a bit.”

“Yeah man, just thinkin about somethin real quick. Need something?”

“Just wanted to ask you if you finished the work Mr. O’ hara assigned.”.

“Yeah man, I just sent margo the simplified instructions, Ill send it to you real quick”

“Thanks man. Appreciate it”. He goes back to eating. Miles just shakes his head, knowing Ganke wont start until the real last minute.

Miles wishes he could relax and then do work without having to rush. But they way his mother and father raised him to do work early and relax as a reward which worked pretty well for him but also gave him an unofficial teacher assistant role for all of his friends.

Ultimately he decided to head out, so he grabbed his art bag with his wallet and keys. Then quickly said goodbye to Ganke and went out. The moment Miles stepped outside he took a deep breath to enjoy the autumn air. He was more of a summer guy but he appreciated this season due to representation of new beginnings. Plus being back in school is always something he looked forward to.

The cafe was about a 30 minute walk, not bad. He puts on his headphones and just enjoys the moment.

He waved to some people he saw almost everyday by his place while walking.

After a bit he arrived at the cafe. It was a decent size cafe, with cute outdoor seating and indoor decorations. It went for the simplistic aesthetic which Miles could appreciate.

Once inside the cafe, it gave off a warm-home vibe, welcoming you inside. The cafe was a bit empty, he guesses he beat the morning rush.

Miles tried to look for a certain blonde with pink tints in her hair, but could only see a cashier and the barista at the moment that didn't fit that description. The line wasn't that long, so Miles decided to hop to the back of it to wait for his turn.

He might as well grab something to drink and eat while he is here even if he could find Gwen.

Maybe she was on break.

He tried looking at the menu trying to figure out what he should order. Maybe a bagel with cream cheese and strawberry jelly.

Yeah that sounded nice right now, but what to drink. He then hears the person in front of him mention to someone on the phone that the cafe had the best chai teas.

Chai tea huh? That didn't sound too bad to have at the moment. Perfect drink to relax with on a day like today.

While waiting for his turn he decided to text Ganke and ask if he wanted anything from the cafe at all. To which his roommate quickly respond “Im good”.

After about 15 minutes of waiting, it was finally his turn to order.

“Hello Sir, Welcome to Mumbatton Cafe! How may I take your order?”

Shit.

The cashier was cute.

He had beautiful, lush black hair with waves like the ocean. Warm brown skin that gave off a golden hue and deep chocolate brown eyes. Miles could almost stare into them forever with how mesmerizing they were.

He almost did until the cashier spoke again.

“Sir? Have you decided yet?”

Oh yeah he was here to eat not to stare and be known as a weirdo.

Miles cleared his throat before speaking.

“Sorry about that, uh, can I have a bagel with cream cheese and strawberry jelly?”

The cashier nodded with a smile while putting his order into the system.

'He has a nice smile' Miles thought to himself.

“Alright, and anything you’d like to think with that?” The cashier asks while looking down at screen of his order.

“Oh yeah, I heard the chai tea here is good, so I’d like to try some.”

There was suddenly a silent pause. Like the air just shifted. The Cashier's face turned annoyed, almost angry-like.

In a lowered voice Miles heard.

“What did you just say?” The cashier's eyes widened as he slowly looked up at Miles.

Miles was confused with the sudden change of mood. He didn't think he said anything wrong. He only said the name of a drink. Maybe he misunderstood what Miles had said.

“Um, chai tea?” He repeated slowly so he could be understood this time.

If looks could kill, Miles thinks he would be ten feet under.

Tagged List:

@ar1-thecat, @marrz-sucks,

#miles morales fanfiction #across the spiderverse fanfiction #atsv fanfiction #spiderverse #miles x pavitr #pavitr x miles #pavitr prabhakar #miles molares #ao3 works #chaiflower #goldenflower #Mumbattan Cafe

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72ww · 1 year

Note

HEYY cha cha slides into your ask box what are ur thoughts on sashamilla first meeting and what do u think it was like?? are u a li po doc truther or do u think it was something else!!

Thanks for sending me this great question!

I don't know about you, but I have a hard time committing to one idea when it comes to branching off from what is strictly canon. Even then, I am big on character exploration in all forms. Pre-canon, canon, whatever. It is the biggest draw to the game, for me, these characters are lovingly written and set such a fantastic groundwork which a person can really run with if they want to. So, personally, I do not exactly stick with one story… sorry if it's confusing, but I don't commit myself to imagining it happened just one way. There are many ways to take two characters and consider how many ways they could interact. Why limit ourselves? It is a great exercise in understanding others. Below the cut is a lot of writing on trauma, pain, and grief, just a warning.

Sasha wasn’t intended to be her therapist at first. He was called in by his supervisor to see if Milla could be rehabilitated at all. She had promise as a powerful Psychonaut, but her mind was wracked with grief. She had been hospitalized due to her struggles with mental illness more than once, compounding her inability to recover. Milla possessed a strong desire to help others but was unable to help herself through her own insurmountable grief. Sasha, being relatively low in the ranks of his division himself, saw it as just another routine recruiting assignment. He approached it with scientific curiosity and not much else.

Milla's mental landscape before Sasha becomes her therapist: it's constructed from the trauma she went through. It's all she can think about, it is her entire identity. It is all-consuming because she can't cope with it. Every day the walls are closing in more and more, driving her further inward into a mental prison. She can't ask for help, she doesn't feel as though she deserves it, she is afraid of it. She may punish herself due to a self-prescribed guilt. Likely socially withdrawn from all relationships, apathetic, joyless. Any joy may remind her of her emotional pain. The two could be inseparable for her, in fact. In acute grief it is not uncommon for one to paradoxically associate happiness with trauma.

Visually, everything that used to bring her joy is present, though corrupted by emotional pain. Quilts, piano keys, crocheted afghans, a record player, melting vinyl, bedtime storybooks, children's paintings. All of it deformed hideously; burning, or burnt. Her grief has twisted her perception of the past. She cannot enjoy her memories as they once were. They have been overwritten by Milla's tremendous suffering.

As any good therapist, Sasha’s mission is to give Milla the tools to reframe the event that is plaguing her mind. Since she is unable to express any control over destructive thinking patterns such as intrusive thoughts, it is pretty easy to see why Sasha would be the one called in to help her. Maybe at this point in his training/career, he has successfully completed this process in himself and recreated such success in other struggling individuals. When he arrives, Milla is despondent. Sasha feels a strong connection with her immediately through a common thread of distress: acute, unresolved grief.

Well, I am going to go on a little tangent here, but I promise it is somehow relevant. Sasha is a very interesting character because he exists in a delicate and realistic balance of qualities. He is intensely curious. He has a strong sense of morality, but might not always choose to follow it. The two go hand in hand. Sasha must determine constantly whether or not a certain action is worth its moral implications. That is a subjective art, to him. Someone who values scientific progress for the betterment of society might not pay so much attention to the sacrifices he feels he must make to achieve his goals. That is to say, to some extent he believes in justification. A lack of direct (or adequately responsible) oversight can further develop such a mindset. As well, a person can justify much to himself if his actions are endorsed and/or were prior committed by a role model. All this to say I believe Sasha has gone through a lot of learning in his life to get to where we see him in the games. He still struggles with this quandary, obviously, but he is certainly not a cold, heartless scientist. His love for others is likely just as intense as Milla’s, though maybe in a bit more of an abstract way. He understands his role and responsibilities as a Psychonaut. He likes to think he understands when he can or shouldn’t overstep those boundaries. Most of the time, anymore, Sasha is relatively disciplined in his practice through sheer experience. No, I don’t think this was always the case.

Personally, I think he would at first approach the case of Milla with his usual ravenous curiosity. He struggles to stay in the present with her. He gets ahead of himself. He wants her to succeed almost too much, too quickly, not solely for her benefit. I can see Milla daring to put him in his place over this, too. His demeanor doesn’t put her on edge. She may even think to herself that his aloof appearance is comical (perhaps endearing…?). She can tell this man tries to distance himself from the world. It seems to her that he has a need to emotionally separate himself from everyone around him not from a sense of superiority; rather, it is as if he is trying to escape distress. Thus, Milla understands nearly all the time he is successful in enforcing strict interpersonal distances. I genuinely think Milla is the first one to ever get around his defenses, if only to drive him up the wall, because she thinks he is hilarious, and because she gets sick of seeing him so closed off. It’s the only thing she enjoys doing for a time. Rather than feeling humiliated by this, Sasha is humbled, if not outright impressed with Milla. It helps to push their relationship in a positive direction.

It’s a turning point for both of them. Sasha was used to talent alone being his main advantage on missions to help others. He hadn’t fulled grasped what it meant to be a therapist, that it is a give-and-take relationship for both parties. Through Milla’s help he recognizes this was a major cause of his past failures. On the other hand, Milla isn’t miraculously cured. Sasha helps her disable the trauma response and pave the road to her recovery. It’s still there, it just isn’t dominating her mental landscape anymore. Sasha marks her down for having serious potential both in recovery and as an agent.

I have read some great & engaging writing where they start out as colleagues assigned to the same mission. Those were really enjoyable, too, and I think those still adequately explore this interesting antagonistic dynamic they may have had upon first introduction. A lot of people look at these two through their surface level personality traits and are shocked to see them get along so well. I don’t think they are opposites at all, though! Sasha & Milla are totally on the same wavelength. I tend to imagine that neither of them realize their similarities at first, too. Then someday something just clicks and their brains practically fuse together for life. There is.. definitely something to be said about dating your therapist, though, LOL. I can’t say I endorse that. I think it wouldn’t be a problem because they later become partnered agents. The Psychonauts probably have a policy against colleagues fraternizing, but whatever. As if anyone would (could) separate Sasha & Milla.

Ohh and a postscript note. In this little space of thinking I like to imagine that Sasha gives up smoking through Milla’s treatment. She can’t stand the smell of it at first. He has to go back to his hotel and take three showers and rent clothes before he can even do intake with her. It takes ages for Milla to associate the stench of cigarettes with Sasha alone. Eventually, I’m sure Milla does exposure therapy of some sort so she doesn’t feel as distressed around fires/smoke she can’t avoid. This totally is without ulterior motives on Sasha’s part, phobia control is an important part of Psychonaut agent training... He does not miss smoking at all...

Here's a sketch for the concept I didn't do much with because drawing Milla in distress wasn't fun at all.

#winkpsyncing #psychonauts #my art #sashamilla #sasha nein #milla vodello

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legodamianwayne · 8 months

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BATMAN AND ROBIN 2023 #1 (Take 6 (yes))

(im not writing this as i go since ive already read the issue before. ill also be mentioning gotham war since this takes place during it (just a warning for spoilers!))

i just noticed the bat and robin on the cover! so cute

OH........(just noticed this too) that doesn't look good

look at them goofing off n having fun

this is cute but the way bruce acts here and in gotham war is so jarring its kinda funny

bruce in batman #137: can't stand my fake ass family

bruce in b&r: me and my son damian 🤗

bruce is in his "local dilf in the area" era rn

damian having talia's mannerism that bruce noticed is so <3

and here its confirmed that this takes place during gotham war. not sure how to feel about that

STILL INSANE OVER THIS baby first self insert fanfic

damian went from drawing hyper realistic gore vent art to anime eyes in the corner

i think it'd be fun if we see damian write more as the story goes on. like him daydreaming n doodling in class

wonder if theres any meaning with damian putting talia as a hero n bruce as a criminal here...or maybe its just a "totally original character do not steal" thing

you dont say bruce 🙄

"the last few years"?? pretty sure the events shown there all happened not even in 2 years since damian turned 14 around the start of the lazarus tournament

also why are alfred n talia not shown there? alfred's death has huge impact on damian (he literally hallucinated him) n talia was there as much as ra's

i dont like how damian looks here but that white connor should be a crime

"thats enough emotions for tonight father" [slams door]

i wonder why damian is staying with bruce tho (outside of making this book exist) didn't bruce n talia had a custody battle moment™ n damian's like "nah i have my own life (is literally 14)"

HELL YEAH MY BOY CAN COOK

he's quoting alfred ohhh im gonna sob

this is kinda embarrassing for bruce...like ur son is finally living with you again n he's the one up early cooking?? sir u better step up

aw he's making tea the way alfred did

*squints* did bruce get his hand back? thats a pretty normal looking hand to me

did damian's comment on it in batman #137 made bruce think "shit i cant give damian any ideas of getting a robot hand" n he just. magically grow it back

[GLASS SHATTERING SOUND]

gotham...heights? n. not gotham academy? no maps? no damian joining her dnd team?? no detective club finally hanging out with damian??

ik damian got expelled from gotham academy BUT. WHY

okay? whats the point if he's not going to the same school that his friend went to?

interesting how damian fantasize for a normal life in robin 2021 (with him liking the mundanity of shoujo manga) n now that bruce is offering him that he's rejecting it (or maybe he just rly don't like school which is. fair enough)

wellll just cuz we're not getting maps n the detective club doesn't mean damian's other friends arent showing up right? RIGHT? (maya plz come home)

THE ROBIN MOBILEEE it looks so ridiculous i love it

HOLD ON. DOES THIS CAR HAVE NO SEAT BELTS?? BRUCE UR LETTING THIS SLIDE?

ik that thing is rly loud too damian waking up the whole neighborhood here

not rumors abt the batfam fighting getting spread around?? this is so embarrassing omg

am i the only one getting gotham academy flashbacks here? with killer croc n the trio with the fox shark n bird masks

they're very comfortable with calling eachother father n son while in suits huh. ig everyone in gotham knows that batman is a dilf (who's beefing with his adult children) now

not much to say abt the rest: bruce got shot with something n now bats are attacking him

end thoughts: i hope with all the focus on animals here means that we're getting damian's pets back soon n that gotham war wont affect this book much since i rly want to see damian interact with his siblings again. also is it just me or does the day scenes looks very bright? saturated? it kinda hurts for me to read idk. the night scenes r pretty tho

next issue is damian's first day on his new school that is not gotham academy but im still excited for it! (coping)

bonus bestie corner

#damian wayne #bruce wayne #batman and robin 2023 #FINALLY tumblr keeps posting it while im editing it but its done yippee #this is inspired by makeste bnh/a liveblogs! i remember how much fun it was reading them that i wanna try it with b&r #tho i dont think i could ever write as much for a single issue...#still figuring out how i want to do this

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tealares · 4 months

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ive spent so much time developing how i draw humans and people ,, starting to make an object show has been so much more refreshing than i thought itd be since i Dont really draw objects all that much so i thought id Hate making assets n stuff!!

i get to practice so much. !!

animation ... which i can do with humans too but with objects its more simplified since i only have to draw the limb movements (favourite part of animation) and also i get to learn how to use adobe animated better !!! i love the challenge!!

and and . inorganic shapes? ohh m ygod. They're the worst its so nice to get practice in!!!! i recently finished one of the assets for numby (calculator oc) and the feeling of getting it done is sooo Aweszozsme... it will be easier next time bc that is how!! skils work!! isnt that awesome??1?1?

ALSO BACKGROUNDS... i spent a good millenia figuring out how to make this mockup bg work... i still have to analyse how popular shows like jnj make their bgs so i dont encounter more problems than ik ill already encounter ( i am too ambitious with my ideas but its okay)

Writing has still been avoided for now........ i am Not a writer let alone good at dialogue. But i will employ the advice of friends despite the embarassment of showing my work to people and get good enough at it >v< maybe one day ill even be Actually Good. . .

honestly the best part of this is that im seeing a project get done!!! i get home and i spend a few hours per day making a cute object while watching videos and then i can doodle arms and eyes on it in a million ways amd even put it next to other objects of mine!! it feels so much more tangible than a singular illustration of mine, and thats bc ive been having illustrations/paintings as my main thing and main objective ever since like. 2018 when i really started trying to learn digital art.,,

i love art so much i Need to know every skill ever to do with drawing and modelling and animating and More. AA!! <333 if you stuck around to the end of this rant. Secret jhf (object show )mockup under the cut...

( ^^ Thisis NOT all the cast yet)

#personal #tealrambles #<- ohh that's a good tag ill use that in the future. more tealposting soon i guess BWJDHEHDHD #jhf posting

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ventbloglite · 1 month

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Any other systems* seen the Inside No.9 episode "Thinking Out Loud"? What did you think of it? You can either just quickly answer the poll, add in a comment or reblog more detailed thoughts, a combination or just ignore it I guess.

*Since this is a story dealing with a character having DID, I ask that only systems and not endoplurals answer. This is a question for those whose disorder is being presented and similar (such as OSDD systems), not for anyone who experiences plurality. Of course I can't stop you so this is here to indicate a certain level of trust.

I personally think it's one of the better portrayals of how DID works and some research was clearly done, and I'm not actually mad that the abuser was killed even though I know 'killer alter' is a stereotype I think overall the viewer is invited to be sympathetic with the system and side with them.

Run down of the episode if you need refreshing or didn't see it:

Inside No.9 is a collection of episodic tales with a variety of genres including comedy, dark, horror, fantasy and serious life events. I was weary when the twist of 'Thinking Out Loud' was that the most prominent character had DID because the way they've dealt in the other episodes with mental illnesses or breaks has been hit and miss at best.

But here's the thing - as we're introduced to the idea of the system existing, the system has done nothing wrong. The plot twist is not 'you did something awful because you're a system and now you must remember it' it's 'you, the host, need to realise that you are part of a system because we're about to be confronted with our abuser again after many years'.

The story, told in parts, is about a woman called Nadia. Nadia witnessed frequent domestic abuse against her mother which ended with said mother being murdered in front of her. Because of this, the system was created. Nadia has no idea all her life that she is a system however, simply aware of 'memory loss'. It seems other members however are somewhat or entirely aware, in particular the Gatekeeper who is not named but speaks and acts like a therapist.

It's the Gatekeeper who encourages Nadia to leave a camera running so she can catch when she switches and start to get to know the system (it seems this system communicates best when speaking out loud and each alter that fronts believes that the camera is there for different reasons, though the Gatekeeper seems to have a strong mental dialogue).

Eventually, as time before the abuser arrives is drawing short, the Gatekeeper abandons her attempts at trying to slowly ease Nadia into acknowledging her trauma and discovering the system and just tells her what is going on. That's how we get the context for the other characters, who are alters in the system. It is also acknowleged that these alters are just the frequent fronters and that there's likely more that the Gatekeeper or anyone else doesn't know about yet.

Nadia - Host, maybe the original. Diana - trauma holder, when she fronts she closes her eyes and sings Amazing Grace as this was what happened during the abuse to block out what was happening. Angel - caretaker, believes she's a vlogger and so does vlogs to the camera, very cheerful and upbeat, puts a positive spin on everything Aiden - protector, Angel's dad, possibly remembers some of the trauma Galen - persecutor, introject of the abuser but isn't a 1 to 1 copy of the abuser, believes himself to be in prison for killing his mother and father but this is his personal memories mixed with what actually happened during the abuse, speaks with a southern drawl and is the only alter with a noticably different accent, is mad that nobody appreciates what he does for the system. (memory of exact roles is a bit fuzzy there's also 'Bill' who makes a dating style video and is an old man but I forget his significance. Also note that the names are anagrams of each other! Most with 'Nadia' and then Angel and Galen. The alters present as different genders, races and ages.)

The story ends with the abuser, fresh from jail, greeting Nadia and being welcomed into her home where Galen fronts and stabs him before Nadia fronts again. The story then ends.

#DID #c did #osdd #osddid #did system #osdd system #systems in media #characters with did #character who are systems #system polls #endos dni

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burst-of-iridescent · 1 year

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Oh, thank you, my day is good, but after your message it got even better! I really found solace on Tumblr, which I could not find either in these terrible comics or in LOTR. To be honest, I hardly mastered the latter at all, literally forcing myself to watch series after series, searching in vain for the former depth of characters and conflict. In my opinion, LOTR is a complete failure on all fronts, with the exception of high-quality drawing. If it's about comics, it's an illogical development of events, which, unfortunately, is laid down in the last series. I wanted to ask you -how do you feel about Ursa's line? I was offended by her decision to leave the children (of course, it happened against her will, but still -to change her face and personality, forget about her beloved son and lead a happy life with an old lover?! Don't get it wrong, a woman should suffer for the rest of her days because of a failed marriage, she should not give up happiness if fate sends. But in the context of this story, in your opinion, does it not look like a betrayal, first of all of herself (Ursa?), and of course her children. She couldn't help but understand what kind of hell they got into, first of all the son, after her disappearance. And if you also disagree with this "canon", what would you see the fate of Zuko and Azula's mother? (sorry for such a long letter!)

hi again! thank you, you're so sweet!

i 100% feel you on both LOK (i'm guessing LOTR is a typo?) and the comics. it's so disappointing because both the show and the comics have some great conceptual ideas, and in the hands of competent writers, could've been excellent continuations of ATLA and worthwhile successors... but instead we got a flaming pile of garbage that deserves to be at the bottom of the sea.

the search isn't the worst atla comic imo (that honour goes to the promise) but it's definitely doing its damn best to earn that spot. i hate so many things about that comic: the outdated, insulting depictions of mental illness and mental healthcare in azula's story, zuko getting a "replacement sister" in kiyi as a fix-it bandaid, the fact that it becomes a whole gaang adventure when the correct narrative choice would've been for zuko and katara (and maybe azula at most) to take this trip together as a full circle from the southern raiders, katara and sokka's only role in the story being to foil zuko and azula and nothing else, and of course... the complete annihilation of everything ursa's character was set up to be in atla.

i agree with you that it is very much a betrayal of ursa's character for her to willingly lose her memories. she knows she's leaving her children in the hands of a dangerous abuser, one who's already molding her daughter into a lethal weapon and was fully ready to murder her son, who has proven his willingness to sacrifice his children without hesitation if it benefits him. but despite this, despite the fact that she committed murder, accepted exile and even risked her life (for she had no way of knowing if ozai would simply let her leave peacefully) to protect her child... suddenly she's willing to throw all of that away and fuck off with her childhood lover at the first opportunity?

it baffles me why bryke didn't at least make ursa's memory loss an accident, which would've both explained her absence and why she never went to look for her children without committing character assassination in the process - but that's probably expecting too much logical writing from those two.

i'm actually planning a post-canon book 4 zutara fic that would include a rewrite of the search, where ursa didn't just fuck off to do nothing, but actually had a redemption arc very similar to zuko's after secretly fleeing to live in the earth kingdom and seeing the damage the war had done. she takes it upon herself to right the fire nation's wrongs, and grows particularly invested in air nomad culture, seeing it as her duty to try and bring back some of what the genocide had destroyed. shortly before zuko's banishment she sets out to find the remnants of a people long believed to be gone - and finds that maybe they're not entirely gone after all.

i won't spoil the rest, but i think it'll both explain why ursa never went back for zuko and azula while still giving her a meaningful story that didn't involve just swapping one family for another. if only we'd gotten something similar in the comics but alas... bryke gonna bryke.

thanks for the ask! no worries about it being long, i thoroughly enjoy reading your thoughts <3

#anti atla comics #anti the search #anti bryke #zutara #asks

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hopeymchope · 2 months

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I am INCREDIBLY disturbed by the amount of people I see championing the horrifying act of suicide that recently occured outside the Israeli embassy in Washington D.C.

There are people acting as though this should be celebrated and remembered, claiming it's a valuable "sacrifice." Like it's "heroic" — as if this guy (whom I will not be naming here) was standing in a war zone and shielding Palestinian children from IDF bullets or something. As if he was hurting ANYONE who is party to the atrocities he's protesting. Even much-depised suicide bombers accomplish more with their terrorism than this act ever will.

There is NO value in suicide. There is only mental illness, abject horror, and everlasting trauma. There is only the anguish and eternal torment of everyone who ever cared about you, everyone who bore witness to what you did. To celebrate and champion this? Is a selfish, malicious act — one that will cruelly damage many people who need love and support. One that could definitely encourage similar, senseless deaths.

In fact, that is ABSOLUTELY happening. Because of this I am literally seeing people on this very site who are openly considering suicide and openly being encouraged by others to do it. Which is sick shit.

But very, VERY importantly? It actively hurts the cause it claims to be drawing attention to. Because it makes the protesting side look insane and unhinged. With his horrifically awful act, this man brutally undermined the thing he claimed to care so much about. And beyond that? His act of protest did nothing but EXPAND and EXTEND the reach of the horrific violence he claimed to be against. The result is akin to watching someone "protest" what's being done to the children of Gaza by shooting a random baby in the fucking head on the streets of Albuquerque.

What do you think you did? What do you think you accomplished? You spread violence, you scarred everyone around you, you horrified and devastated everyone you know, and you made your side of the argument look awful. THAT'S your impact. THAT'S the attention and message you spread.

But then, that's what this level of depression and mental illness does to a person, isn't it? You lose sight of your own value, you are unable to comprehend what you're doing, and you ultimately do nothing but destroy yourself unless you can get the help you need/deserve. And that's pretty scary. I've been there before. I even had some of these urges before — to unalive myself "for a cause." But I'm SO glad I came out the other side of it. What a waste that would've been. What damage I would've done to everyone I know.

This is a horrible tragedy... and perhaps the saddest part of it is how little it will even matter. People will remember what's currently happening in Gaza for decades, maybe centuries to come. But this act? No one will remember this except, perhaps, as a piece of disturbing trivia. "Can you fucking believe this psycho?" THAT'S the only legacy of this that will ever, EVER matter outside of this poor man's family.

I wish I had some idea of what COULD make a difference in Gaza. It feels pretty helpless to be this far from where all that horror is unfolding on the Palestinians who live there.

If you love this act? If you think it's valuable and/or admirable? I am begging you to reassess your thought processes. If you claim you want to protect innocent lives? Remember that that doesn't just mean the lives that are abroad, and it doesn't just mean protecting the neurotypical. It means valuing and protecting the lives of yourself and those around you, too. Including neurodivergent people who're struggling.

Value lives by valuing your own. Fight violence by not committing violence. Combat horror by not spreading horror. Show love and care for others by caring about how your actions will impact everyone you know.

And if you feel like this kind of act is a good idea for you? There's help. There's ALWAYS other options. And there's ALWAYS a better way out — even if it may seem like there isn't.

I realize people sometimes think they have no other escape. But if you're willing to consider escaping by completely giving up on ever living, then you damn well have to consider every possible alternative first. Cutting off your family, running away, starting from absolute scratch; anything else is better.

#tw: suicide #embassy suicide #gaza #And feel free to block or unfollow me if you disagree. I don't care.#You spread the idea of violent suicide being a heroic act - you win stupid awful prizes #suicide help #suicide support #suicide hotline #self immolation #IMPORTANT #if you get to the bottom of the tags I guess I'll mention this poor bastard's name #I'm just trying to bury it as hard as possible #aaron bushnell

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theodoradevlin · 2 months

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"THEODORA!"

Richard breaks into the Shrub Club's Greenhouse with a loud bang, not having realized his own strength as... as it is Thursday and he is here in person! The wizard is standing in the doorway with a small bouquette of flowers, all covered in snow, with a broom in another hand.

"I am so sorry I am late! Happy Valentine's day! Well, belated Valentine's day..." he exclaims excitedly and quickly closes the door as he realizes that the cold he is feeling has nothing to do with his regular deathly dread and ghostly existence. It is almost blizzard outside and that means Richard can fall ill from forgetting that the weather can affect his fragile human form. And it just won't do, not with his plans for today!

Nobody knows where he got some rather crude furs to wear but most likely it was his payment for some work on a side. The young man discards them to the ground as he covers the distance between the door and Theodora. The snow in his hair and on his face is already melting due to the greenhouse's warmth, making Richard look like a puppy after the rain.

"Here!" he stretches out the flowers to her: dozens of clearly freshly picked snowdrops have gathered in Richard's hands.

"I hope you had a great day yesterday. If you don't mind, I'd like to spend today with you. Not that I'm asking you out, I'm sure there's fierce competition on who gets to court such a brilliant and gorgeous young witch. But I hope you don't mind the company of an old friend?"

That last sentence rings with sadness in Richard's voice but even he can't tell where it comes from. He is here, in person, alive and happy, with somebody dear to him. Why does he feel such a strange pang in his heart? The wizard chooses to ignore it. The feeling will be gone as soon as he is the ghost again. Better to enjoy his here and now.

The sudden opening of the door lets in a gust of winter air, startling Theo….but not as much as the sight of Richard, real and here, in front of her. His excitement draws an immediate chuckle out of her as she takes in the state of him. The snow on his hair is endearing, as is the flush on his face and hands that are holding…flowers? “Richard!” She half shouts indignantly, half scolds, but can't help herself as she launches from her workspace to sprint over to where he is.

She eyes the bouquet and then him, throwing a teasing grin as he offers them to her. "Valentine's, huh?" She gently takes the bouquet, her fingers tracing over the frozen winter blooms.

“Don't be sorry. These are lovely, and.....they sort of remind me of you." She blushes as she catches herself in an unexpected wave of emotion.

"Frozen, but beautiful.” She explains softly, not hesitating before throwing her arms around him and holding him tight for a moment.

“There is no one I’d rather take up all my attention today besides you. Old or not, you are one of my very, very best friends.” She selfishly allows herself to kiss him on the cheek, a weird hot feeling at the corners of her eyes that she blinks away, shaking her head and releasing him before he can see.

She clears her throat and laughs. “And I officially get to kidnap you for two whole real boy Thursdays?! I’m certainly getting the better end of the deal here. Sit!” She gestures to the overstuffed sofa tucked between some rather large pots of dittany. “I’ll make us some tea. But first….”

She conjures a large glass cloche, removing the top she carefully places the bouquet inside, and adds a charm to keep them fresh and to float in the middle, suspended in its beauty.

Satisfied, she turns over to see Richard waiting for her on the couch. Just the sight of her friend makes her smile again. She smiles even wider as she gets an idea...

"Perhaps for your Valentine's day gift I can make you a sweater! In your favorite color, perhaps? As um...fashionable as these furs are..."

She doesn't finish the sentence before she breaks into laughter, which makes pouring the tea rather risky.

Maybe this day wouldn’t last forever. But it made it that much more precious. And when it was gone, the flowers would remain.

Despite the growing winter storm wailing against the windows, Theo had found herself never feeling more warm.

#richard jackdaw #MAKING ME WEAK AGAIN #EVERYTIME #theo talks #valentines day

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