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brother-emperors · 6 months

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When you talk about Philippino history and then Roman history, as a Venezuelan it's been making me think about our history and like, I've always thought there's a lot of similarity there but now it's like...its so similar. Your house is haunted too! I always think about how we won wars against the colonizers but their ghosts are still there, and they still sit at the dinner table with us every night. Your work is so cool, I feel like I can extend that train of thought further through time. I've never been interested in Rome but now I kinda am!

Venezuela 🤝the Philippines: being haunted houses (colonized by Spain)

also that is so SO real, the ghosts really are with us!! THEY ARE AT!!! OUR DINNER TABLES!!!!! ngl, once you start noticing it, it's impossible to NOT notice how they've crawled into the spaces and just. stayed.

ancient Rome is so weird for it too, because if you asked me about it, I wouldn't immediately put ancient Rome down for haunting the Philippines, except for the fact that like Catholicism, it's fucking everywhere. it's gotten in the cracks and spaces between the walls. On the stage of theater, Nadres' Hanggang dito na lamang at maraming salamat: the main character is named after Julius Caesar

Closet Queeries, J. Niel C. Garcia

and so many people are named after figures from ancient Rome (I know enough Mark Anthonys I've run out of differentiating nicknames for everyone) that it rivals Catholic saints for naming conventions. neo classical architecture had it's moment in the sun in Manila, our ilustrados brought some of it back when they returned from Spain to call for reform, and then independence, and I am struggling to hold back a plague-infection comparison about that. like, something else crept in with Spain, and like Spain's ghosts, it Did Not Leave.

but on the other hand! there's a long, centuries long, tradition of using the events of the Fall of the Republic to discourse, discuss, to vent or call for action, current events. it provides a interlocutor when something hurts too much to say directly, it provides a stage to explore a tragedy that echoes in our own histories, it gives a script to voice an ideal that a government might otherwise put down. how many centuries have we used Brutus (and Cassius) to rail against Tyranny, and how many centuries with equal enthusiasm have people used Julius Caesar as a martyr to justify the rights of Kings and Empires? these things are equally as important (in a different way) from the ancient events that actually transpired. (this specific topic, of Brutus & the Assassination of Caesar and it's literary revivals in history, are the focus of The Brutus Revival, Manfredi Piccolomini)

and the cores of these things conflict with each other, but in that friction, it's like there's an invitation to sit down and think for a minute. to look back at history and feel it's immediacy in the present.

ANYWAY I got carried away, but I am glad!! that my stuff could make Rome interesting!!! I hope that you find new doors of thoughts to explore!!!!!!!

#holding this ask in my heart forever thank u for sending this anon #ask tag #idk sometimes i draw goofy shit because its fun. and gay stuff because I Like Men ofc im going to explore things thru that lens #but also. i feel a little like im trying to look at this lurking ghost of imperialism without. addressing it directly #my love for spectacle and drama directly against knowing that the historical horror is not. that far removed. heugh.#so this meant a lot to me!! i feel seen in a good way. thank u again!

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mothwingwritings · 4 months

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Hi hi~ hope you are doing great today xD

Sooo First of all I love how you write and I have been binge reading yujiro stepfather serie(?) And absolutely love it; but stepdad yujirou + Baki and jack the yandere/siscon stepbrothers could you imagine like:

*Katsumi became her eternal friend but feels like he can't be with y/n, so ends up as her loyal/platonic companion or ends up as a teacher and friend and go on with life because yujirou is hell of strong and Sadie to pummel him again

*yujirou marries s/o and impregnate her, but y/n gives love to the child because she doesn't want him/her to suffer like her brothers

*yujirou wanted to rill up his son's and knowing their dark yandere side put the scenario on so the two end up taking her as well

*Baki and jack won't left her until she at least have s baby of each because hanma bloodline and a sense of twisted family

*and what would happen if pickle also gets interested? How would he reacts with y/n pregnant or with kids and with the scent of the hanma's? Would he tried to kill the kids like the lion in a new pride? Or just add them to the family and put his seed too? And the hanma's what would they do?

*oh and what happened with the ash tray

Sorry for the long feel free to ignore

I love your brain, darling~

Warnings: Stepcest, breeding kink, mentions of child rearing/being a mother, mentions of noncom, 18+ only please.

If the two Hanma brothers didn’t have any kind of breeding kink before, seeing their sweet little sister heavy with child is about to change that REAL quick.

Don’t get them wrong, it makes their blood boil to witness you carrying some other man’s child, let alone Yujiro’s spawn. Seeing you grow each day, swelling with the ogre’s unborn infant, is enough to make them go damn near feral. The whole situation unleashes a torrent of emotions -rage, disgust, pity, vexation, and sympathy, all swirling together within the two of them, vying for dominance. They don’t know whether they wanted to give this kid the world (it was your child after all, and it wasn’t that they weren’t sympathetic to its situation, they probably knew the tribulations and hardships that baby was to face more so than anyone else) or completely disregard it (they just couldn’t shake where it came from, what brutality was committed against you to conceive it).

On one hand, how dare Yujiro force himself inside of you, planting a seed that will bind you to him irrevocably? It was maddening knowing you were trapped by Yujiro’s side, saddled down caring for his offspring. The ogre had you right where he wanted you now, stuck between a rock and a hard place, trapped just beyond the brothers reach.

But on the other hand, two can play at that game.

It was easy enough to convince you to come to them. You loved Baki and Jack. You respected them and you trusted them, you had no reason not to come to them willingly. You were always so eager to see them, so grateful for their companionship. The day they entrapped you, you approached the brothers with arms spread, heart bared, and eyes sparkling as you walked blindly into their trap.

The last thing they wanted was to hurt you, that was never their intention. But you just looked so beautiful when you were pregnant, full and round and glowing, like an angel had landed on earth. They were craving seeing you that way again, adamant that they would be the ones who would fill you with their seed, and you would be the one who would help them create a new life.

And you were such a good mother, doting on your baby with love and affection despite the circumstances of how they were conceived. Didn’t Jack and Baki deserve that too? Why did their monster of a father get the only honor? They certainly treated you better than he did, loved you far more than he ever could or would. And they would never treat their children the way the ogre had treated them growing up, disregarded, abused, or as petty amusements their whole lives. Yujiro was such a terror that the brothers tried to keep themselves from growing overly attached to the baby he had created with you, not only due to the mixed emotions they felt about the situation, but because they knew the likelihood of having an infant survive growing up around the Ogre was optimistic at best.

However Baki and Jack were not their father. Maybe they had to resort to underhanded methods to get to you, sinking down to Yujiro’s level to get you pregnant with their children, but the difference between themselves and that monster would always be the overwhelming affection they held for you. Even if you had trouble understanding what was going on, or couldn’t quite wrap your head around the fact that everything they did for you was for your own benefit and safety, they knew that the lives they were forging for you was what would ultimately make you the happiest and bring you the most joy, you just needed time to get used to it first to realize that. Seeing you waddle around fat with their baby’s is both brothers ultimate dream, and they will destroy anyone who tries to steal that from them, whether that be their father or otherwise. And unlike their father, any life they bring into this world with you will be cherished-the baby will essentially be half you, after all, how could they not adore it?

They know you will cry and feel betrayed and possibly even get a bit hurt should you try to deny them. But no matter what happens, they know you will forgive them because when it comes down to it, you love them just as much as they love you. They are ready and willing to give you all the time in the world to adjust, you are worth any amount of effort to keep happy.

(Also poor Katsumi, but I am glad he gets to be a homie at least lol. The eternal suffering that poor man receives through our prose…)

Now for our caveman situation…

Pickle knows there is something different about you, something that draws a family as strong as the Hanma’s to you. There’s a reason why they are all vying for your attention, eager to procreate with you, and your beguiling presence is not lost on him either. Should his interest become strong enough he’ll definitely snatch you away to create a brood of his own with you. He would become EXTREMELY overprotective of you while you were pregnant, monitoring you like a hawk to make sure you are comfortable and that there are no predators a foot to cause you any harm. When you are full of his children, he treats you more gently than you thought a beast like him possibly could. Were this a situation you were actually compliant in, you would almost call it charming how gently he handles you, or how quietly he tries to lumber his large body around you so as not to disturb you.

As for the other children you had previously… I feel like that is very dependent on the situation. He would not outright kill them by any means. Right now they are small, helpless, they don’t pose a threat to him and you care for them, he has no reason to take them from you nor does he really want to. Also, they have Hanma blood running through their veins and that intrigues him. What manner of person will they grow up to be, he wonders? The thought of watching such people grow, even have a hand in raising them or training them, was too interesting of a prospect to throw out the door.

THAT BEING SAID, his children with you will always take precedence over them. Should you find yourselves in a situation that requires him to choose who he needs to protect, you will always come first, followed by the children he sired with you, anyone else is nonconsequential. Though he has no true ill will towards the children, he certainly doesn’t harbor the love for them that he does his own offspring. He cares for the Hanma kids well enough, but base interest is about as far as it goes. If they starve, get hurt, or have to get sacrificed, so be it.

And Yujiro def still has that ashtray. For WHATEVER reason, even though it’s a shitty little trinket that was crudely made by the hands of your child self, he can’t seem to part from it. He even travels with it and uses it regularly. Weird, huh? I wonder why…

#i kinda popped off on this lol #thank you always for all the lovely ideas you guys send me #i live for them #heh heh heh #yandere baki x reader #yandere baki x y/n #yandere yujiro hanma x reader #jack hanma x reader #jack hanma x y/n #yujiro hanma x y/n #baki hanma x y/n #baki hanma x reader #here's a nice helping of some Hanma fam bs fresh from the oven mmm mmm mmm #also look at me #finally getting to answer asks asked forever ago #ty again!!! I had fun with this!!!#mothresponse

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lale-txt · 1 month

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Laleeee hiii how are you doing? 🥰

For the mash up au, can I ask for 75 + 88 with Kakashi? Or whoever you want, tbh I eat these kind of tropes with everyone 😂

Guyaaa (´⌣`ʃƪ) you have impeccable taste hehe, that was a very fun combo!

➳ Bed Sharing + Erotic Dreams

There was only one bed. Kakashi has read about this, but for it to happen to him in real life, with you of all people? He wasn’t sure if he was in heaven or hell. Maybe both. Yeah, probably both. He should have known he was doomed when you let out a quiet ‘tsk’ at his declaration that you can have the bed and he’ll sleep on the floor, and when he felt a tugging on his shirt and your pleading eyes seeking his, practically pulling him down on the softness of the bed with you. And it made sense–you two just finished a long and draining mission, and you needed to rest. It was as simple as that. Kakashi envied you, for how easily you could fall asleep, sprawled out on the bed as if you owned this place, without a single care in the world. Meanwhile he didn’t dare to move, almost didn’t dare to breathe either. Where your skin brushed against his, a tingling sensation spread throughout his whole body, impossible to ignore. It was when your quiet snores turned into something else, something more needy, that Kakashi had to bite down on his own tongue, eyes glued to the ceiling in an attempt to not let them wander over your sleeping form. There were no doubts what your dreams were about, from the way the mattress dipped slightly when you rolled your hips, soft whines escaping your throat in your sleep. He should get up, should walk out of here, pretend he didn’t notice anything–but then you mewl his name in your dreams and everything within Kakashi crumbles.

❦ fanfiction trope mash-up ask game!

#rattling the bars of my cage #how easily i could have turned this into a full blown fic too ugh #brain like: what if I add Tobi to the mix too. what then. WHAT THEN #MAYBE I WILL #thank you for sending this! it was super fun thinking about it and it will haunt me for three days and nights now (lovingly)#mash-up ask game #kakashi x reader #lale.ask

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poppy-purpura · 1 year

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You need to stop I am going to be killed by cuteness...

I'm a serial killer then... Should I to stop?

#pura #hehe actually thanks for all people who send me asks #and it is so fun to draw cute things!#free serotonin for me #hollow knight #hk pale king #hk pure vessel

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esilher · 2 months

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Kurt and Blaine on a trip around the world! In following your advice.

Following @mynonah's suggestion, here they are visiting the Fisherman's Bastion in Budapest. A very poetic place to draw Blaine.

I will post my drawings according to the order in which I received your messages. So you'll have to be patient…

#Here we go!!#Klaine on a trip around the world #As a reminder #I asked you to send me by private message your favorite beautiful place in the world so I could draw Klaine there #And you did!#And this is fun!!#Thank you!#klaine #klaine fanart #klaine fan art #Esilher’s drawings

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thefantastician · 10 months

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Do you ever plan on posting your full layouts for Another Grand Adventure for Jet the Hawk?

I’ll post two (2) pages for fun

Go read IDW Sonic, it’s great!

#sorry I don’t reply to asks immediately #but I do get to em eventually #thanks for sending me questions #they’re fun!#ask ian #my art #sonic idw #comic

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ratinayellowbandana · 8 months

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Hi! Number six of the drabble prompt list, and if I may suggest, with a sad jealous Laudna.

hi! I'm sorry this one took a few days. I um. got a little carried away with it again. these were only supposed to be like 500-word prompt fills, and this is uh, slightly more than that. so I hope that's ok.

for those who don't want to find the prompt, it was: "You just didn't look for me." naturally I went ep 64 with a healthy splash of canon divergence, some good old-fashioned hurt/comfort, and pate as a thinly veiled metaphor.

length: 2k

~~~

Laudna whirls on her, snaps, “We looked for you. And the others. Every fucking day.” She holds Imogen’s gaze, holds her piercing stare until Imogen tilts her head. “You just didn’t look for me,” she whispers.

Imogen steps forward, quiet but insistent. “No, sweetheart, no, we did. I did. Every day.” She does not reach out, afraid, not of Laudna–never of Laudna–but of herself. Of what she might do if given the chance at the wrong time. Her heart pounds an unsteady rhythm.

“I want to believe you,” Laudna says. She toys with the brass ring on her left hand, twisting it around her finger anxiously, twin snakes coiling. “I do, truly, it’s just…”

Imogen studies her, searching for answers in a frame both foreign and familiar. Laudna is pale and gaunt, cheeks drawn in, though that’s hardly unusual. Her stringy dark hair lacks luster in the eerie light of the red moon, crispy and clumped together in places by something Imogen can’t identify. Cast in the long shadows between buildings, Laudna is on edge, ready to claw and screech and lash out with those wicked talons if provoked. She is wild, and she is beautiful, and she is frightened.

“I understand,” Imogen speaks slowly, gently, distinctly aware of each word’s weight.

The others are still in the inn, consorting in the tavern. The Hells and their new friends, chatting, laughing, and drinking the night away, simply happy to be home. Introductions were made, and tales of grandeur waited to be spun.

Laudna had been unnervingly quiet after the initial elation wore off. Her hands remained folded in her lap or picked intently at the skin around her nails. Pâté’s silence was even more concerning. He had been coaxed out of hiding in Laudna’s hair with the promise of scratches and nudged his beak into her wrist until she began stroking his greasy fur.

She spoke when spoken to, adjusting in her seat and responding eagerly when prompted. The moment the attention shifted, though, her forced smile would drop. Every so often, she sent a furtive glance in Imogen’s direction as if to ensure she was still there, then looked away just as quickly. Exhaustion crept at the corners of her eyes, and her gaze would fall to her lap whenever the conversation turned to the adventures in Wildemount.

The group from Issylra hadn’t said much about their travels, but Imogen gathered their transplantation had not been as, ah, pleasant wasn’t quite the right word. Illustrious, maybe, Imogen considered, fussing with a seam on her new dress. Laudna’s blouse was tattered and stained with a thick substance that did not match her ichor’s usual viscosity.

Laudna had stood abruptly, muttering something about air, and disappeared outside. After making puzzled eye contact with Ashton, who tossed his head at the door and sighed heavily, Imogen followed her.

She had found Laudna around the corner, curled into herself against the wall of the Spire by Fire. A feral thing, hardened and reshaped by whatever circumstances found her while they were apart.

She has not calmed yet, and Imogen is reluctant to curb the swell of emotion that has Laudna dangling by a thread. She is tangled in it, ensnared in a knotted web, and Imogen is unsure how to extricate her. She is all jagged pieces and raw edges, a tempest of fury and loss that Imogen cannot rely on her mental connection to unravel. Laudna is something of a mystery to her now in a way she has never been, and it’s all Imogen can do to not toss her circlet to the winds.

Instead, she waits.

Laudna is muttering to herself, tugging at her clothes. Pâté flaps about her head, wings of sinew and bone making an abominably wet sound Imogen hadn’t realized she’d missed. The tip of one wing tangles in Laudna’s hair, and she swats at him irritably, sending him tumbling through the air until he manages to right himself. Imogen extends a hand, and he flies to her, settling in her palm on his hindquarters. He gives a disgruntled shake, and his wings squelch back into his body, tail coming to rest around his paws. He peers up at Imogen, then looks back to Laudna.

“I tried,” he croaks in that gravelly way of his, and Imogen strokes his disgusting little head with one finger.

“I know,” she assures gently. He could be referring to any number of moments across a lifetime, a few weeks, mere seconds ago. She sets him on her shoulder and feels pinprick claws pierce the fabric of her dress for stability. Crass and wretched as he is, Imogen can’t find it in herself to hate him. He is an extension of his maker, creepy and ungainly and off-putting, so Imogen must love him a tiny bit. She scratches under his chin, ignores the feeling of magic-touched bone, murmurs, “Thank you for keepin’ her safe.”

“Boss didn’t have the best of times without you.” He pipes up, a little rueful, in a manner Imogen assumes is meant to be quiet. Laudna, only a few feet away, catches it.

“Pâté,” she snarls. He squeaks and tucks himself into Imogen’s collar.

“He’s just confirming what I had already guessed,” Imogen defends, an attempt at lightness that doesn’t quite land. “It’s not his fault you haven’t told me anything.”

“He ought to have stayed in my head. Then he might leave well enough alone,” Launda warns.

“You don’t mean that,” Imogen counters calmly.

Laudna spits, “He should have stayed dead.”

“Hey.”

She huffs a sardonic, dry laugh. “Not everyone deserves second chances.”

Imogen inhales sharply.

There it is.

“Laudna…” She softens. She cups Pâté protectively. His fur oddly damp against her skin. She takes a cautious step forward.

The pieces begin slotting into place, building the frame for a jarring picture of something severe enough to reopen this old wound.

The fight sapped from her limbs, Laudna slides her back down the wall until she sits in the filth and dirt of the alleyway with her knees drawn close to her chest. Imogen winces as rough stone drags across jutting bone and paper-thin skin.

“Are you… Do you want to be alone?” She asks–because what else can she do?– and half-fears the answer.

Laudna’s head jerks up, and something Imogen can’t decipher flashes in her eyes. After a moment, her head shakes minutely, and Imogen lets out a relieved sigh.

Tense silence leaches from the pores of the building’s rocky exterior.

“We tried to find you all. Every day. We didn’t–we didn’t know where we were. Where anyone was, and–” Laudna breathes at last. “Orym was… was angry. Vengeful. And Ashton…. He was our friend.”

“Ashton?”

“I hurt him,” Laudna continues as if Imogen hadn’t spoken at all.

“Hurt who?”

She shudders. “I killed him, not Prism.” Inky tears well from eyes pressed shut. Her voice is impossibly soft, hollow, seeming to ask, Do you hate me yet?

The narrative is convoluted at best. Imogen fruitlessly attempts to splice together the fragments of memory slipping through Laudna’s teeth like snowflakes, to arrange them into a cohesive whole among the scraps she gathered at the table. The Issylra group returned rattled, apprehensive and tense, but this is deeper. Laudna is shaken.

“Wasn’t he a member of the Ruby Vanguard?”

“He was confused, just like the rest of us. Angry at the gods.” Laudna’s eyes flicker to the glowing red moon. Her fist, clenched in her hair, tightens. “And I killed him.”

Imogen steps closer. “We’ve all killed people.”

Laudna shakes her head. Her voice hardens once more. “I don’t begrudge you the shopping or fraternizing with royalty or, or whatever else it was,” she says lowly, “But we didn’t have that. We didn’t save a toy store or home-cooked breakfasts. We spent every moment fighting to get back to you. And now,” she swallows, “we must reckon with the cost.”

She is utterly exhausted; Imogen can see in the dim light. Although bone-weary and at her wits’ end, Laudna’s elegant cheekbones curl with shadows that twist and hide in her skirts. Hunched and fearful as she is, Laudna is still hauntingly beautiful. Something warms in Imogen’s chest.

“You did what you had to do to survive,” she says, “No one can fault you for that.”

“I’m sorry.” Laudna’s voice breaks, fracturing in tandem with Imogen’s heart, and she sobs. “I’m sorry.”

“No, Laud, no–” Imogen crouches next to her, yearning to touch, to take Laudna in her arms and bite and hiss and growl at anyone who dares approach. She restrains herself, carefully plucking Pâté from her shoulder and setting him on the ground between them. He turns to her skeptically as if to say, Really? After what she said? Imogen nudges him in Laudna’s direction. He sniffs, beak in the air, and ruffles his fur before bounding to Laudna’s ankles and putting his weird, cold little dead rat toes against her shin. She ignores the pawing fragment of her soul, ashamed.

“I’m sorry,” Laudna mutters, “I must seem…I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have anything to apologize for.”

Laudna begins incredulously, “I–”

“You survived,” Imogen reiterates, “against gods and people powerful enough to destroy them.” She sighs, “I sent you a message every day, you know? Sometimes more than once, if I’m honest, ‘till my nose bled and Deanna had to patch me up.” Imogen offers a half-smile. “All I got was static. I just had to hope you were out there, somewhere, lookin’ for me, too.”

Laudna looks as if she might melt into herself, refusing to look at Imogen. Her shoulders shake, and she confesses with a gasp, “She’s back. I brought her back.”

Imogen’s blood chills, but her tone remains neutral. “Who, Laud?”

At last, Laudna meets her gaze, eyes wide and wet and horror-struck. “Delilah.”

The name hangs between them like a stone ready to drop and shatter and bury itself into their flesh. Searing rage erupts in Imogen’s veins.

“I’m sorry,” Laudna shrinks back, “I’m so sorry. To all of you. You all gave so much to–to find me. And–”

“It’s not your fault,” Imogen interjects.

“–and I wasn’t…I was weak. I lost control.”

“Laudna,” Imogen cuts her off with the steely calm of a thunderstorm on the horizon. She cannot afford to process this now, not when Laudna is trembling in an alley. Not when Laudna, unmoored and terrified, needs her to be an anchor. No, Imogen will save her questions and unfiltered anger, for another time. A time when Laudna is safe and warm and at no risk of coming unraveled in her hands. When Laudna is in a place to know Imogen’s wrath is not, could never be, directed at her.

“Laudna,” Imogen repeats, because she cannot bear the thought of her not understanding, “this is not your fault. None of this.” She does reach out, then, offering a lifeline should Laudna choose to accept it. She does, hesitantly, as if waiting for Imogen to recoil. Her fingers are cool, bird-light against Imogen’s red-scarred palm. Laudna seems to notice at the same time.

“Imogen,” she exclaims, words still tear-tinged and quivering, “your hands. They’re–are you alright?”

“Oh, they–they don’t hurt, usually. Promise. I’m fine.”

“I should have–I’m sorry, I suppose I was–”

“Laudna,” Imogen interrupts again, not unkindly, “please.”

It’s then that Laudna seems to notice Pâté clawing his way up her skirt. She scoops him up and holds him to her, murmuring apologies into his fur.

“‘S’okay, boss,” he rasps, squished against his maker’s chest, “I can’t hold a grudge.”

They sit like that, hand-in-hand, hand-on-rat, until the easy stroke of Imogen’s thumb against Laudna’s has smoothed out the worst of the jagged edges. Until the tension falls from Laudna’s spine and she relaxes into Imogen’s touch.

“The others are surely wondering where we’ve gone.”

Imogen shrugs, snorts, “There’re so many people at that table I think they’d hardly notice two missing.”

“Still,” Laudna says, “we ought to get back.”

“Do you want to?” It’s her choice. It always will be if Imogen can help it.

Laudna considers. “I think I’d rather like to hear the end of Chetney’s story from the Savalirwood.”

“Oh gods,” Imogen groans, flushing at the memory, “no, you don’t.”

“Fearne and Deanna, hm?”

“Best to let them tell it.”

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crescentfool · 28 days

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What are your ryomina headcanons? I've loved these two since I played P3 FES, and I'm so excited to get back into the fandom^^

hi!! thank you so much for the ask, welcome back to the p3 fandom, it's always a delight to see new and old ryomina fans alike! 🥺💛💙

as for headcanons, here's a "few" i that i tend to come back to a lot! my interpretations of them are influenced from both the source material and other's fanworks, so i've linked to them as i saw fit! hcs in no particular order under the cut because oops this got long (900 word bullet point list, mentions of reload content up to 1/1)

minato's hair is dyed blue (hair originally brown, you can see it in his roots!) and he has a beauty mark on under his left eye. i like mirror imagery and there's definitely a few arts i've rb'd that portray them this way :) (e.g. this one by feliichu and this one by marasschino)

as far as i'm concerned the bathhouse scene from the manga where ryoji's hair down = similar shape to minato? that is canon to me. this art from xierru is a fun depiction of hair down ryoji :D

ryoji is homeless. everyone say thank you foxmulder_whereartthou for this awesome fic it's why i have the headcanon! but like seriously. we have no idea where ryoji lives and i could believe this.

minato dying at the end of the game is sad to an outsider's POV BUT!!! ryomina gets to be together in death for the rest of their lives (this illustration from mafuwara is a gorgeous representation of them as nyx avatar + the seal)!

speaking of the seal, they are like telepathically communicating to me in the great seal together. (mymp3 had a comic wip with this. give it a looksie :D)

ryoji likes cuddling with minato because he's warm :) (something something orpheus has fire affinity, minato is warm by extension and ryoji is cold because he's death)

ryoji's camera roll is filled with pictures of minato! ryoji... loves life, to me. and i feel that photography and journaling are perfect ways of expressing gratitude and capturing the moments in life that are most important to you :3

my other favorite activity for these two is stargazing- i feel like it's something they could appreciate either in life or death (looking at the stars from the great seal...)! they do a bit of this in the fic eurydice's vow by crescentmoontea (P5R spoilers, takes place in third sem it's a very fun fic concept).

between ryoji and minato i feel like ryoji was the one who fell in love first- and it doesn't really click in place for minato that he loves ryoji until december hits (appriser reveal + ryoji transforming into thanatos). its about the realization that ryoji was with him for his whole life and that he gets him like no one else does.

ryoji is like a sad and wet puppy who is so scared minato won't like him back. he is so scared of being rejected by minato to me like. this boy straight up deflates after he does his "i know i said i wanted us to be friends, but... i actually want to be something more." / "what about you?" on 12/1 ???

AND SPEAKING of wet puppy ryoji. ryoji is like. every animal in the world to me. he's a bird. he's a cat. etc. and also ryoji knows every language in the world ever and uses it to express his love for minato. see this fic from superheroics to see what i mean.

both of them are lactose intolerant. "this isn't lactose, it's milk!" i definitely think ryoji would make himself sick eating ice cream and milk he doesn't know what lactose is. (i made a silly poll about this once and the tags were very entertaining.)

i see minato as transmasc or nonbinary depending on the day (schrodinger's headcanons babey they're simultaneously true and not true at the same time!!). either way he's not cis to me and ryoji is like. His Gender. anyway go read this fic by nail_gun for t4t ryomina :D !

ryomina are WEIRD GUYS TO ME!!! they are so strange and they understand each other better than anyone else because of the circumstances of their relationship!!! if you asked them to do the "i wonder what i taste like" meme i think they'd start biting each other (affectionate) tbh but that's just me.

after ryoji gives minato the music box in 12/31 on reload, minato listens to the music box every night in january. this boy has insomnia and also chronic illness to me (things that housing death does to you). but i think he finds comfort in the melody and memories he made with ryoji.

in general, i think it's fun to imagine minato taking ryoji to places and show him things he's interested in! i feel that ryoji takes a lot of interest in minato's life, this isn't really a hc because in reload, minato DOES give ryoji a tour of the school (11/9) and possibly port island (11/12). but ITS CUTE OK! (tangentially related fanwork: this series of doodles from vinnigami: 1, 2, and 3)

not a hc but minato's kindness is like the backbone of their relationship and i think we would not have the ryomina we know and love today if minato wasn't such a kind soul. oh minato.... we can learn so much from you... like ryoji did!

anyway! that's all the hcs that i could think of, thank you for the ask! i had a lot of fun answering this, these two mean a lot to me 💛💙

i hope you don't mind the links to the fanart and fanfic as well, the fanwork people have made for ryomina have really made an imprint on me! if you want to see more of them, i definitely recommend looking through my tag for them because oh. i got a lot of them reblogged alright 😂 (<- SOOO NORMAL)

#UMMM hiiii #this was VERY fun to do thank you so much for the ask!! im very. well-adjusted about these two #this ended up turning into some art + fic suggests (they are like citations to my hcs)#but it was really fun! i love ryomina to bits and pieces i cannot provide a concise answer #this post nearly gave me a scare bc somehow the bullet point list doubled itself and wouldn't let me post #tumblr is a very functional website! but the posts intact so im happy!!! yippee!#i still need to finish reload but some of the hcs i wrote were partially backed by what i saw there #people are welcome to send asks btw! cant guarantee i'll answer them in a timely manner but i enjoy doing them #doing this reminded me of my early tumblr days when i'd get so many asks where ppl dropped their ryomina hcs it was cute...#im sure i will continue to recommend fanworks in the future i definitely want to start reading fic again after i finish reload! yahoo!#also this post is like the iceberg of my brain btw you have definitely not seen all of my thoughts im soo. (twirls hair) normal.#lizzy askbox #ryomina #<- why not i put effort into the post #anyway bye im going to go to the library to learn about my favorite new interest called html and css aren't websites cool :)

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babyblueetbaemonster · 1 month

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What do your elder scrolls ocs wear when not in armor or battle robes? Casual outfits!

Jo usually just wore the Fine Clothes uncle Sheo gave him in that quest, with the cool Mage's Circlet from Savos Aren. Nay got her dress (Belted Tunic) from uncle Alvor's "Help yourself to whatever you need" gift basket. Dubak got a Blacksmith's Apron. I can't recall where he got it... cough, yeah.

Acelta wore variety of Mage's Robes that does fashion damage to Haskill. (after finding out the secret side effect he stopped wearing them)

Sunny is silly :3

#ask and i shall answer #thank you for sending me ask this is really fun <3 #tes #tes oc #oc: jokir #oc: naythaa #oc: dubak #oc: acelta #oc: sundros #haskill #i draw a meme #Marge Krumping #silly Colovian Fur Helm my beloved #i know all the armor i wore were from the bandits but i did get a lot of clothes from legit places #i love morrowind they got so many pretty robes and clothes #was bummed by the robes in oblivion bc it's just one model with different color #same goes to skyrim's bathrobes but at least they have college robes that look cooler #technically acelta's battle gear is mage's robes... hmm....#acelta wouldn't do it but me as a player i stole the cool robe from Mankar Camoran's dead body and i love it (the enchantment ofc #my other ocs just wear their battle gear to sleep (or just never sleep)

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plulp · 1 year

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I NEED A DOCTOR!!!

#harper the doctor #degrees of lewdity #my art #dol #FUN FACT harper is my favorite character. begging for a dr. harper route #sorry i posted that last thing and like actually totally dipped out for a month #i dont draw that often and i didnt expect it to get that much traction TBH #but thank you for following if you did 🥺#also thank you for the nice comments if you left any 🥺 i appreciate them so much #feel free to send in requests too! since im usually dry of ideas all the time #anyone or anything you want me to draw feel free to ask!#im going to try and be more active #but i cant make any promises because im in perpetual artblock #thanks for reading if you decided to read this far

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doubledyke · 3 months

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How do you believe Eddy actually is without his Bro mask? I mean, I don't believe he would be radically different or anything- he probably still has his hotheadness, stubborness and egocentrism- but he would also be a bit more chill, more openly caring and more helpful and friendly towards his buddies and another people?

Still quite flawed and bratty, but also much more of a nice guy at the same time, summing up.

brother you just opened a whole ass can of worms on this here page

eddy angst and eventual fawning below

even after bps i imagine eddy's guard is gonna be allllllll the way up for a long time. nonetheless, he's ecstatic to be welcomed into the in-crowd. finally, an excuse to wear all those clothes he keeps in that closet o' dreams. his shoulders loosen up a bit over time, he's cool, he's getting invites to all the shindigs. he's chasing this conditional acceptance so much that he might even drift away from the eds for a while- ed and edd not exactly being the partying types.

but he's still waiting for the other shoe to drop. right on his neck. waiting for the moment he says or does the wrong thing. or the moment his searing rage burns through this newfound passivity. he's just doing what everyone else does, what everyone wants him to do. asking someone how they're doing even if you don't really care, laughing when someone tells what could be construed as a joke. and standing up real straight, since double dee's always talking about "posturing" for some reason.

keeping up that front is exhausting though.. some nights he'd rather stay home, but if he did that he might never get invited anywhere ever again. and another of kevin's easyriders anecdotes, jonny's weed-fueled conspiracy theories, rolf's political proselytizing, and nazz's aggressive dancing sure as shit beats spending time with his own thoughts.

yup. this is the life.

the ticking time bomb explodes when someone accidentally bumps into him at one of these parties, and the uncomfortable laughter this elicits from his peers plunges him further into a sea of red, his ire hopping from one head to the next as he drunkenly gives them all what for. he lays into his peers in a way he's only ever seen edd do, then storms off into the inconveniently well-lit night, never to be seen or heard from again... until the next day at school, where to his horror, everyone is still being cool towards him? they're asking him if he's okay?? he should be fine, once he's picked his jaw up off the floor.

but they were supposed to hate him, give him a shiner to go along with the bruises he left on their collective ego. somethin' don't smell right, and it's not just the mix of mike's hard and last night's supper embedded between his shoelaces.

the only solution is to isolate, of course. out of sight out of mind. he starts showing up for school less and less, and when he's there it's not like he's paying attention. what's the point? as far as he can tell, his options were laid out before he was off his mom's tit: join dad at the dealership, or end up in a seaside trailer, running two-bit scams to supplement the part-time income he'd get as a ride operator. you don't need no stinkin' degree to push a button.

graduation comes and he doesn't go cuz you wouldn't catch him dead in one of those stupid ass hats and matching tablecloths. plus "getting older" is depressing. really depressing. as such, he becomes depressed. i wrote in painfully dumb detail what i think that might look like in the fic i was working on, so i'll spare you a rehashing of that.

anyway, his depressive episode subsides a bit and for the first time in his life he's looking inward. what does he want to do? who does he want to be? better yet WHO IS HE??? that's the thing with eddy, he has no idea who he is, and is terrified to find out. it was easy enough to mirror his brother when he mistook fear for respect. but no one is scared of him, and no one respects him, especially now that they see what a loser his brother is. so what does he have to lose by being himself? whatever that means.

at the forefront is that big lavender question mark that's been looming over his head since he was in diapers; the only "mental illness" his dad acknowledges as real.

he has another mini crisis when he is forced to accept that he's gay. followed by a torrent of relieved tears. relief mixed with horror, as it all makes an embarrassing amount of sense now. admitting that everyone was right SUCKS, but he'll look past that for the time being, and enjoy the fleeting lightness in his chest. it feels eerily similar to the day everyone found out the truth about his brother- minus the agony of cracked ribs.

his brother... oh shit, his FATHER. wipe those tears away mary. you better not be caught puffy eyed and red faced in this house son, 'less you been brawlin'.

anyway if i continue i'd be spoiling that fic i mentioned cuz i do plan on continuing it in some form or fashion eventually. the point of that fic is to pretty much go over what i think happens to eddy to get him to the point that he FIRST realizes and accepts he needs to heal at all, and then can begin the long, non-linear process of restoring what was taken from him by the hands of people who were supposed to love and protect him. that's the only way he'll be able to learn who he is and gradually let that take place of the caricature that was forced upon him.

accepting that he's gay is gonna seem like a breeze once he starts digging in to the real ugly shit. but it absolutely has an affect on his personality both as a kid before he realizes it and going forward as an out and proud adult. if you think he's flamboyant in the show...

but yes, his true personality is still, as you said, cantankerous, boisterous, egomaniacal, etc. perhaps becomes a bit more sophisticated with age lmao. take the way he acts in season one and a dash of season three in there for the best example of what i imagine he might be like on an average day in his adult life.

he'll always deal with anger management issues and depression, he's gonna have days, weeks, months where he's season 5 levels of unhinged. but like we all do, he learns to cope in ways besides bashing his skull into the nearest wall and/or tree. but don't get me started on that.

just as a side note, and not because you implied this or anything, but people who struggle with anger aren't bad people, and anger isn't inherently bad. he has every right to feel the rage he feels imo. i feel like removing those less "desirable" traits from him entirely really detracts from his fantastically complex character.

as far as how he treats the people closest to him go read @gettingfrilly's analysis of eddy and empathy for a much more informed, concise and well worded take than i can provide. my opinion is that it's a struggle for eddy to show kindness and consideration but he will get there in time with the right support. his fear of intimacy and vulnerability is something i hope to touch on in the fic too, so i'll save my ramblings on that topic for a later time.

overall, most of eddy's personality i wouldn't want to change, but it will mature and take on different forms as he gets older. his brashness, his humor (dude is so goddamn funny), his low tolerance for what he considers bullshit, his stupid charm, his ridiculous vanity. they all make him who he is and i wouldn't change them for the world!!

he's not going to get along with everyone and there will be people who simply don't like him, but once his barbs have been sanded down a bit, i think eddy would be really well liked by the people around him whose personalities and interests jell with his. his snark and gallows humor would be easily integrated into the many kitchens and bars he works in, and he'd have no trouble making friends. he's charismatic as all hell, and surprisingly cultured. i feel like people don't give him enough credit for how smart he is, but i see it. his confidence and resilience ensure that he WILL be successful in the things he sets out to do, it's just a matter of time and a little luck.

#look man i think everyone knows by now that i'm incapable of sticking strictly to the question at hand #but i had a lot of fun writing that mini fic at the start there lol and i feel like it's pertinent enough so we're gonna roll with it #thanks for asking and i'll get to the other asks soon #i really appreciate people taking the time to send me stuff i just dont always have time or know what to say at the time 🥴#but i'll try! to my own and everyone else's chagrin #text

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