#this is angsty
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Halloween. Conversing about the past
I couldn’t wait one more week to post it
#severus snape art#severus snape#snape community#pro snape#snapedom#this is angsty#i’m not even sorry#fanart#baby boy is sad
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Another Thing to Hide
Summary: When the public notices a reaction from Sephiroth only around Genesis of all people, Shinra has to deal with the public nightmare from the one piece of the Silver Soldier they couldn’t control. Because he couldn’t control it either. He didn’t even know it was happening. Could Sephiroth really…purr?
Inspired by this ask to @altocat
Please enjoy!
…
Oh gods. What was it now? His last appointment was three days ago. There was absolutely no way they needed new samples or tests or a new examination. What they needed was to leave him alone. He didn’t care about the ‘urgent’ emails clogging his inbox. He had way too much work to get done on his desk to worry about this.
Nothing in this god awful science department was ‘urgent’ enough for this.
He was barely in the examination room for ten seconds before the slimy scientist slithered his way in, clipboard in hand and black glasses blocking his eyes as always.
“What do you need of me now, Hojo?” He did not waste a single moment. “This better be quick.”
Good. The scientist wasn’t looking to waste any time. “I need you to purr.”
He blinked at the asinine request. “...Have you lost your mind?”
“I think it’s a simple request. It’s just purring.”
“I am not an animal, Hojo. If you wish to mess with me, at least make it believable.”
“Believable?” He echoed.
“That is what I just said, yes.”
“Snippy today, aren’t you?”
The soldier ignored the comment and questioned again, “What is this urgent request?”
The scientist moved his clipboard to his side and scanned the soldier inquisitively, slowly raising his hand to his mouth in thought before clenching it in a soft fist once realization struck. “You truly have no idea what I’m talking about.”
The taller man scoffed, crossing of his arms. “Was I not clear enough? Did you call me in here just to mock me for my eyes?”
The look in his gaze hardened, and the soldier visibly straightened to gain the slightest shred of distance when a pen was pointed at him. “I have told you a thousand times your appearance is perfect, Sephiroth. You’re clearly spending too much time around the wrong people if you even think otherwise.”
The soldier went quiet, his body tensing ever so slightly by instinct.
“Now follow me.” With a single wave of his hand, he gestured to the door he came through, and both of them walked down the hall to a desk.
Sephiroth watched silently, trying to discover what the scientist was looking for through the various seemingly disorganized folders on the multiple monitors.
The scientist adjusted a speaker before finally clicking on a video.
On the screen was an old tape of some interviewer that caught him and his red haired friend in the city on their way back to HeadQuarters. But what did this have to do with today? It was so long ago, his hair was half of its current length.
“Sephiroth! Genesis Rhapsodos! A word please!”
Though Sephiroth was clearly annoyed, his glare instantly sharpened to perhaps draw blood from the annoying reporter, Genesis lit up and pulled him along. It was the first time someone recognized the Crimson Soldier, and Genesis was ecstatic.
The interviewer asked them both a few questions, but Genesis took the lead by answering almost all of them, occasionally giving him a playful nudge. Sephiroth truly had no idea what was going on. “What does this prove?”
“Listen,” Hojo insisted.
There seemed to be a deep rumbling beneath the talking, perhaps a car that happened to be idling too close. But Hojo said something about…
…purring?
The scientist closed the video and opened the next one. And the next. And the next. And each one was cursed with the same rumbling, soft and deep but ever present. Each video showed years of broadcasted appearances with him and Genesis together, sometimes with Angeal as well but never just him and Angeal. The final video was posted only a few days before, but that false white noise still persisted.
That’s impossible. His ‘inhuman’ strength and speed were trained into him for years. The only abnormal things about him were his hair and his eyes, but… he never produced such animalistic sounds.
Worst of all, he had no idea he made them in the first place.
“Public Relations is currently working on a fluff piece to deter any assumptions about your character.” The black glasses reflected the light back at him. “But you need to get a hold of this. And if you can’t, I’ll take control.”
Sephiroth stared at the open monitor, at the frozen image of him and his closest friend. Instead of the smiles he saw and the warm memory they came with, his heart sunk. Had this truly been happening for so long? And neither Angeal nor Genesis mentioned it or joked about it once? How did this stay silent? How did he not know it?
He was terrified. His own body betrayed feelings he would never admit to himself or the public. He didn’t know it was happening, didn’t feel a single vibration in his throat. Or at least he assumed it was his throat. He couldn’t control this. He couldn’t control this. And after so much silent deliberation, his traitorous mouth opened to a soft whisper, “...what would you do…?”
“Well,” Hojo was far too prepared for that question, “If the vocalizations are coming from around your chest, we can update your uniform and pretend the added armor is purely aesthetic. Possibly a chestplate. But if it’s coming from your throat, which is much more likely-”
His head slowly fell, his bangs blocking his eyes as he stared at the floor.
“I believe a simple collar should be enough to dampen the noise. Placement and thickness are critical, of course. And then there’s the issue of design, matching the uniform, making sure it represents the company in a positive light, dealing with the marketing department, manipulating public opinion- ”
“Do it…” His voice was broken, his shoulders low and his body dropping in defeat. Hojo needed confirmation before moving forward, and Sephiroth didn’t give him the chance to ask. “Make the collar… do it…”
Well, Hojo absolutely wasn’t passing up this golden opportunity with his son being so compliant.
* * *
Sephiroth obeyed every order, sitting like a statue for measurements of his torso and neck, his coat and armor somewhere on the floor to allow perfect access. He hated it. He hated it all. He understood exactly what a collar would symbolize. He prayed that whatever rattled inside him only forced him into more armor, not kept him inches away from a leash.
But he still couldn’t purr on command, which meant not only could they not find the epicenter of this uncontrollable call, but they couldn’t test their products without stimuli. They needed something that worked, but no pill or injection triggered the reaction. Only one outside force guaranteed the sounds.
They needed Genesis.
Sephiroth wanted to hide in a hole, but that didn’t stop him from sending his friend a message to come to the lab. He wanted this over with. It certainly didn’t stop Hojo from inviting the Crimson Soldier as little more than a resource required for his tests.
With such a silent cry for help unseen to Sephiroth, his friend rushed into the room in minutes.
The look on Genesis’ face only pulled the ache in his friend’s chest higher.
The sight before him was so rotten the redhead struggled not to attack the scientist nearby.
Sephiroth couldn’t even meet his gaze, sheer embarrassment clogging his heart. But at a soft touch on his arm, his inhuman eyes lifted to the other mako blues.
“What did they do to you? Are you alright, Sephiroth?” Genuine care bled through his words, infecting the tense breath of his friend like a virus, yet with a calm he couldn’t describe.
“I’m alright…” He answered slowly, weakly.
“What happened?”
Gods, why did he have to look at him like that? Like he could tell him anything? Like this was a safe place? Why couldn’t he keep his walls up around him? Why did that intense gaze make him feel warm and safe? Why did he-
Barely a few seconds. It was barely a few seconds since Genesis entered the room, and Sephiroth’s tainted purring began.
Genesis’ gaze even softened at the sound. He knew. He knew all along, but he said nothing because he knew what it meant… didn’t he?
Their moment of peace shattered when a cold stethoscope slid along his open chest.
The Crimson Soldier’s eyes burned as he stared daggers at the scientist currently moving the instrument up and down the bare skin, but Sephiroth stopped him, almost grabbing him.
“It’s just a test,” He explained quickly, deliberately avoiding why Genesis was necessary. “They just need data. I’ll be back on the SOLDIER floor soon.”
“Data for what, Sephiroth?” The concerned care twisted to a caring sternness, and with everything happening, the Silver Soldier just looked away like a disobedient child. “Data for what?”
Still, the rumble didn't stop. Sephiroth never got the chance to speak before Hojo retreated and scribbled on a clipboard. He found the source. Good.
“Just some control data. Nothing more,” Sephiroth lied. “It'll take a few hours. I'll talk to you soon…”
Hojo interrupted them, incessantly tapping his pen on the paper. “Yes. Get out of my lab. We have work to do. Your presence is no longer needed.”
Genesis almost growled, but the puppy-dog look in Sephiroth’s eyes convinced him to stand down. “See you soon, okay?”
“See you soon…” He repeated softly, and just like that, he was alone again, free to every touch and prod of the technicians around him.
However, this visit required no samples, no needles, no extensive physical examination. The worker bees of the lab simply spent their time making and testing the fabric that would stifle his neck to protect him from yet another thing in his life he could not control.
When Sephiroth eventually returned to his office on the SOLDIER floor, with a leather collar ordained with the SOLDIER logo, the only thing that stopped Genesis from burning every lab in this building to the ground was Sephiroth himself.
He was so, so sad, his cat-like eyes thin and ashamed, dark and sunken. Painful.
Genesis dropped the rage and immediately trapped his friend in a hug. He knew he’d never admit to needing one, but he knew this helped him, ever so slightly.
His arms were warm and safe.
Sephiroth tried to return the embrace, his hands shaking ever so slightly. He wanted Genesis to know he appreciated the gesture, but the single quirk that let him reveal his silent truth was now muffled by the band around his throat.
.
.
.
.
Thanks for reading!
Author’s Note: If you think this is bad, you should read ‘Another Part to Hurt’. Thank you again to @altocat for letting me steal her ideas!
#sephiroth purrs but it's SAD#this is ANGSTY#sephiroth#hojo#ff7 hojo#genesis rhapsodos#ff7 genesis#sephiroth ff7#sephgen#ffvii sephiroth#catboi but sad
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GUYS I DID THE THING
Longing for more chapters 1-4 are OUT and ready to read :D
#longing for more#BEFORE YOU READ BE WARY AND READ THE FUCKING TAGS#THIS IS ANGSTY#LIKE.....VERY ANGSTY#HEAVY ANGST#lego monkie kid#monkie kid#monkie kid fanfiction#nezha#monkey king#six eared macaque#liu er mihou#lmk mk#qi xiaotian#mei#redson#idk what to call the macaque mk and nezha trio
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Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi & Luke Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker, Past Padme Amidala/Anakin Skywalker - Relationship
Characters: Luke Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Beru Whitesun, Owen Lars, Mentioned Anakin Skywalker - Character, mentioned Padmé Amidala - Character
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha Obi-Wan Kenobi, Omega Luke Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi is Luke Skywalker's Parent, Obi-Wan Kenobi Needs a Hug, Obi-Wan Kenobi Gets a Hug, Anakin Skywalker Is Dead, Omega Anakin Skywalker, Alpha Padmé Amidala, Anakin Skywalker & Darth Vader are Separate People, Love Triangles
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Quackity thing I made
My friends dragged me into the pits of tnt duo post Quackity getting traumatized
I love my friend dearly but I miss feeling happy and getting sleep-
Anyway, yeah-
#artists on tumblr#quackity#quackity art#c!quackity#idk what else to tag#ummm ok#so yeah#this is angsty
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Oh? What is this? A story I started somewhere in February is now finished.
It's Ragbros, very self indulgent and probably ooc but i like it nonetheless. It started out as a vent fic and then I kinda forgot about it until yesterday and now I'm here.
I hope you enjoy reading this!
#.kaes time to ramble#genshin impact#.kaes oneshots#.kae updates#fanfiction#genshin impact angst#ragbros#this is angsty#but i like it#i like it that way always
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Dreams of Forever
Paring: GoChi
Words: 2353
Summary: Set long after the events of GT. Chichi is old and dying and the boys are heartbroken. Their families are pretty torn up to for they know Mt. Paozu will never be the same without this woman in their lives. Angsty.
FFN: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/14136267/1/Dreams-of-Forever
AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/41690838
Even with so many grown adults and three small children crammed into my mother's bedroom, the crowded space was somehow eerily quiet. All present were focused on mom, propped up to a shallow angle on a small stack of pillows and covered with an old handmade floral quilt—one of mom's creations. Gohan and I sat on opposite sides of our mother and each gently held one of her frail, arthritic hands. She was the most relaxed if we maintained a point of physical contact, so we did. Gohan and I hadn't left her side and had no plans to even as she drifted in and out of consciousness. Hard to believe only a little over three days before, when we all gathered to be with mom, all was well. That was before Gohan found her slumped on her sofa, before her severe stroke. Another small one so soon after took any chances she had of recovery with it. She was only seventy-eight.
The kind middle-aged hospice nurse took mom's vitals. When she pulled the blood-pressure cuff off mom's arm with the distinctive sound of ripping Velcro, she said, "Won't be long now."
Gohan and I nodded, both still focused on mom as the nurse stepped aside.
Mom lightly squeezed my hand. If Gohan's small smile was anything to go by, she squeezed his hand, too.
"She knows we're here," I murmured.
Gohan nodded again and brushed a strand of silver hair out of mom's wrinkled face. "Yeah. We're all here, mom. Videl, Pan, Uub, their kids, and Marron and the twins, too. We're all here."
Her mouth moved with a single, silent word: Goku. She sighed in her sleep but even still, she smiled.
"Heh, I think she's dreaming about Dad," I said.
Gohan chuckled.
Dad had been gone decades and she still never stopped loving him. She held out hope dad would come back some day all the way to the end. Gohan confided in me he had a feeling we wouldn't see dad again after he left with Shenron. Mom wouldn't hear it. I didn't want to admit it but on some level, I knew Gohan was right. Dad was really, truly gone.
We all—Gohan and me and our families—banded around mom after that. Marron and I built a house next-door to Gohan and Videl's place on Mt. Paozu right by mom's house. Mom seemed okay. She was strong but she missed dad deeply. Sometimes, I caught her gazing at dad's picture with tears in her eyes. When she'd notice me looking, she'd hurriedly set the picture down, wipe her eyes, and pretend nothing was wrong. We all missed dad but sometimes his bright, light-up-the-room smile came out in my girls, and his tenaciousness came out in Pan. That brought mom comfort and having us close by helped.
Mom's face scrunched up. A tear rolled down her cheek. Gohan and I exchanged a small frown. Was this…it?
Gohan wiped the tear off her pale cheek with a tissue and then froze mid motion. Something tugged at my ki sense. I shook my head and pushed the strange yet familiar warmth out of my mind. Surely, I was imagining things. Yeah, it was just wishful thinking. Maybe Gohan froze because mom's already rattly breathing changed. I glanced at Marron and out of the corner of my eye, saw Pan staring out mom's open bedroom door.
"Goten?" asked Marron.
All I could do was shake my head at her and stare at Gohan. "There's no way that's…?"
Focused intently on the open bedroom door, Gohan didn't respond right away. I didn't see anyone but I felt him.
A warm, golden glow flooded the hallway darkened by the setting sun and then faded. Footsteps approached across the hardwood floor, grew louder, and then there he was. A collective gasp spread through the room and no one dared move even a muscle. Dad stood in the doorway and looked around the room. He wore that same easy-going smile and that same orange gi he always did. He was in the prime of his life—or rather his death. A golden, glowing halo hovered inches over his wild hair.
His smile broadened. "Heh, hi everybody. Been a while, huh?"
"Goku," came a weak, raspy whisper next to me.
Dad's bright smile turned tender as his gaze slid to mom.
Marron, Videl, Pan, Uub and their kids stepped aside, clearing a short path from the door to mom's bed. Pan and Uub's three young children stared at dad. A blue-eyed girl with straight dark hair, the oldest by the name of Pumpa, pointed and whispered something to one of her younger brothers, curious about an incredible man they knew only through pictures and bedtime stories.
Dad took my place next to mom and took her hand in his. Another tear rolled down her cheek followed by a lot more. Dad grabbed a tissue and wiped her tears away. He pressed a kiss to her forehead.
Mom's eyelids twitched and then fluttered open but only half-way. She blinked a few times and then her rheumy-eyed gaze focused on dad.
The stroke stole her ability to speak but she did recognize and boy did her eyes brighten as they settled on Dad. Dad brushed his fingers lightly on the wrinkled skin of her cheek and she turned her head into his touch. She closed her eyes and her already barely-detectable ki dipped. Her chest stopped moving with her breath. Her ki disappeared altogether. Sniffles spread around the room and my eyes stung. I checked on my girls. Akina sobbed quietly into her hands and Keiko wrapped her arms around her twin sister. The young woman tried to be strong, as she always did, but she broke down, too. Marron stretched her arms as far as she could around them both and drew them in for the hug they needed.
At a tap on my shoulder, I looked to dad.
He nodded down at mom. "Watch."
A strange, soft glow enveloped mother but, beyond that, it took me a moment to even process what I was seeing. She changed right before my eyes. Her face was the first to change. Wrinkled skin smoothed and healthy color blossomed across her cheeks. Her short, thin grey hair turned dark and shiny from the root to tip and dramatically lengthened to what I remember from when I was a little boy. Knobby, arthritic fingers tucked in dad's hand turned slender and young. Transfixed, I almost didn't notice the halo that twinkled into existence over her head still resting on the pillows.
"Dad?" asked Gohan. "How in the world…?"
Dad glanced at Gohan and merely winked.
Mom stirred at dad's light touch to her cheek, took a breath, and opened her eyes.
She blinked and glanced around the room at the others all staring at mom with wide yet teary eyes. "That was… odd. All I remember is falling asleep."
Even her voice sounded young, just like she did in the prime of her life.
Her brow crinkled and then she looked up, pressing the back of her head into her pillows. "Oh." Dad chuckled as she glanced at her hand in his. Mom gasped and then pulled her hands out of his and Gohan's. She stared at her healthy, arthritis-free hands and then touched her newly young face next. She stared at dad, her lively dark eyes questioning.
Dad's soft smile broadened but as with Gohan, he remained tight lipped. Dad had his secrets sometimes.
"King Yemma is expecting her and you best not keep him waiting," said the short, squat Fortuneteller Baba from a corner of the room.
Fortuneteller Baba had a habit of that, slipping in and out without anyone sensing her arrival.
"Yeah, I know," said Dad without so much of a glance toward Baba. "We'll be up in a few minutes."
Perhaps it was that old fortuneteller who orchestrated dad's visit like last time.
I glanced at Gohan and his lips twitched up, perhaps having the same thought as me. Dad had explained the dead being allowed to visit the realm of the living was a very rare privilege granted only to heroes. If anyone deserved that privilege, dad did.
Dad stood and offered mom his hand. "Let's say goodbye to everyone while we still can." He glanced over his shoulder, toward Pan's family and at my daughters, too. "I have new grandkids to meet!"
Mom nodded, pulled the blanket off herself, and accepted his hand. Her ankle-length light purple nightgown had been replaced with a sleeveless light blue qipao with white pants and darker blue house shoes, the same style she wore my whole life. A lock of her long black-brown hair fell in front of her face. Mom grabbed it and lifted an eyebrow at dad. Her eyes narrowed. Uh oh.
Pink blossomed across dad's cheeks as he rubbed the back of his neck. "Heh, what? You know I like your hair long."
Mom giggled and stood from the bed like it was nothing, like she didn't need assistance with that simple task for most of the last couple of years. The ease with which she moved seemed to surprise her, too. She glanced down at her feet and bent double to touch her toes.
"Gosh, I haven't been able to do that in a long while," she said as she straightened.
"You're back in your prime now, babe." More softly, dad said, "You'll be like this for forever."
Mom led dad first to my girls. My daughters held each other even while being hugged by their mother. After murmured introductions, small smiles spread across their faces and they both stepped out of their embrace to wrap their arms around dad. Dad wrapped his arms around them, too. Despite both being almost as tall as Marron now, Dad hugged them so tight, he drew them right off their feet. Akina and Keiko laughed as dad set them on the floor. His hands lingered on their shoulders for a few extra moments.
"Ya know, you girls have your mother's eyes but your dad's smile. You got that from me," said dad with a laugh.
Akina and Keiko laughed despite the tears still rolling down their cheeks.
"So we've been told," replied Keiko with a sniffle.
"I can tell you two are super strong, too. Keep your dad on his toes for me, okay?" Dad beamed with pride. He always said he knew Marron and me would get married someday. I knew he'd love them, too. Dad and them would have made a great team. I chuckled to myself for the first time all day.
Akina nodded, wiping her nose. "Kay… thanks Grandpa!" She said and hugged him again, until Marron had to break them apart.
Mom stepped forward to hug my girls, too. That was one hug neither wanted to break, complete with lots of sniffles and tears all around. Keiko and Akina were so close to mom. The twins grew up on Mt. Paozu like Gohan and I did and Mt. Paozu just wouldn't feel the same without their grandmother. It wasn't going to be the same for Gohan or me, either.
Pan approached with her three young children in tow and Uub just behind them.
Dad pulled Pan in for a big hug, too while the kids lingered back. Dad put his hands on Pan's shoulders and grinned. "Just look at ya, Pan. You're Chichi's spittin' image!"
Pan let out a noise somewhere between a giggle and a sob. I chuckled, too.
"They really do look almost identical," said Gohan as he approached dad, mom, and Pan. "Especially now."
Dad laughed. I missed that sound. The wild spikes of dad's hair bobbed as he looked down at the three small kids hiding behind Pan's legs.
"Well, hi there!" said Dad. Though his back was to me, it wasn't hard to picture his bright smile, the same one he gave me when I first met him.
Just like Mom had when I first met Dad, Pan stepped aside and urged her kids to go meet their great-grandfather. The youngest was hardly more than a toddler and quickly darted behind his mother's leg again. Pan's only daughter ran to her great-grandfather first and dad scooped her up. "I'm Pumpa and I'm eight years old!"
The middle child pulled his baby brother out from behind Pan by the hand and led him to meet their great grandpa together. "I'm Jin! And this is Goku!"
"Goku, well, little Goku, definitely has your hair," said mom through a giggle.
Dad chuckled, too, and scooped the two little boys up with their sister. He wrapped his arms around them all, squeezing them to his chest.
"Can you stay with us?" asked Jin.
Dad shook his head. "I'm afraid I can't but maybe someday, great-grandma and I can come visit you. Would you like that?"
Jin nodded. "Yeah!"
Mom and dad hugged Marron and Uub and then came the part I was dreading the most: it was my turn to say goodbye to my parents. Mom and Dad wrapped their arms around me and I was delightfully sandwiched between them. Even with the hope of another earthside visit during my lifetime, goodbyes were hard. A large, painful lump formed in my throat. Tears stung my eyes. Mom wiped her thumb across my cheek and then reached for Gohan when he came to stand with us, too.
"Oh, my sweet boys," murmured mom.
Tears gathered in her eyes as she and dad hugged Gohan between them like they did me. Gohan's eyes grew glassy, too. I swore dad's were, too. They watched us and we watched them as her and dad vanished in little bubbles of light, almost like the fireflies that appeared on Mt. Paozu every summer. Even those little bubbles disappeared, too. I couldn't feel either of them anymore at all.
I smiled through the tears sliding down my cheeks. "They're finally together again. Forever."
Gohan's voice cracked as he said, "Yeah. And no one deserves it more."
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It was strange to wake up in a place that was not her home for the first time in decades. Granted, the Herondales had often visited their manor in Idris, or secretly gone to Will’s parents, but Tessa had considered all of those places her homes. Now the house where she had spent the happiest years of her life felt like an empty shell, void of everything that had made it her safe haven. She had stayed, for many years after burying Will, even though it had hurt. She had stayed close to her children and grandchildren, watched them grow up and grow old, but now that she had buried Jamie, the last of her family to leave her, there was nothing left for her in London, other than memories that hurt.
Tessa hadn’t thought this through.
In her desire to lead an ordinary life with the man she loved, she had never wasted enough thought on the fact that she would outlive them all. That she would have to bury not only him, but also their children. Maybe she had secretly hoped that - among all the other odd things that made her different from other warlocks - she wouldn’t be immortal and die, just like everyone else. But she hadn’t and that was unbearable at the moment.
Magnus had removed her from London the day after Jamie’s funeral, without even arguing about it. And here she was now, in another city, sitting wide awake in his guest room at 3 am, wishing she could go back in time, if only for a day - hell, even for an hour. Slipping out of bed, she sneaked into the kitchen, because for some reason Tessa thought that a cup of tea would ease the raging pain in her chest. Tea always helped, didn’t it?
@centuriesendured gets a plotted starter
#ᴡᴇ ᴡᴀʟᴋᴇᴅ ɪɴ ғɪᴇʟᴅs ᴏғ ɢᴏʟᴅ ( The Last Hours verse ) - Tessa Grey#this is angsty#i would say i am sorry but i am not#i will never be over the fact that everyone died#and tessa just had to live on
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Global warming is wild isn't it? I mean? Warm and salty raindrops 24/7? specifically in Soho???
(I physically can't draw angst sorry I did my best here)
#Good omens#ineffable husbands#aziracrow#aziraphale#anthony j crowley#Comics#Fanarts#Digital arts#I can't with the current angsty mood of this fandom#I'm sorry#I can't follow y'all lmao
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jason is a grandpa's boy and u cant take this away from me!!! they cook together, they discuss literature together, and when jay comes back, they clean their guns together haha. ofc they celebrate their birthday together too! 😌
✨️🎂 hbd jay & alfie 🎂✨️
#jason todd#alfred pennyworth#batfamily#batfamily fanart#dc#dc fanart#batman#red hood#dc red hood#they have one of those relationships where jason outright says he loves alfred the most and alfred refuses to say he has a fave grandkid#but it's kind of just concensus that it's jason cuz he's the only one allowed in the kitchen#i am also a heavy believer in the hc that for a while there jason wouldnt meet up with anyone but alfred#and theyd meet for tea and stuff outside the manor#i love those fics#i was gonna draw an in-between angsty one where alf has a picnic by jay's grave with tea and cake for two but i dont have the energy 😅#i was also gonna draw a red hood and agent A one with the guns they were cleaning but again: no more energy 💀#mb i'll save that one for later. i still love the idea so much. :')
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Leather jackets are cool okay 🥺
also Dick has unknowingly opened the door to little birds stealing his clothes from him lol. It's a love language 😌
Inspired by ↓↓
that time Discowing wore a leather jacket:
and this precious panel of baby Jay:
#dick grayson#jason todd#robin jason todd#nightwing#VioletDoodles#dc fanart#robin jay is adorable in a leather jacket#little guy just wants to be cool 🥺#also fyi#I was so tempted to end it with an angsty cut to red hood's bloody jacket#oh well
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Something something the way that Crowley introduced himself to Aziraphale the first time they met in the garden and reacted as if they had never met before. Something about him later behaving as if he did actually have those memories of their time in Heaven together and trying to pass it off as being someone different now. Something about Heaven's way of punishing angels that go against the plan by erasing their memories. Something about Crowley seeing Gabriel without his memory and saying "ask him properly." Something about "remember it now" "it hurts, to remember. my head isn't built for that" "I know. Do it anyway"
Something about "I know. Looking at where the furniture isn't"
Something about I know
#gomens#good omens#good omens 2#good omens s2#good omens spoilers#fan theory#all i'm saying#is that crowley seemed REALLY familiar with the process of losing and regaining memory when it's been taken#and i think it would be fun to make it even more angsty#if crowley pushed himself again and again until he was able to remember aziraphale#and now he remembers heaven and all that it was#and he wants nothing to do with it#and Aziraphale is going back
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skin and bones
#dungeon meshi#dungeon meshi fanart#farcille#marcille donato#farlyn touden#falin touden#farlyn#dunmeshi#delicious in dungeon#can you tell i love angsty shit#experimental#what even is composition
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"Grant me your wrath, my dear. For I've become unworthy of your forgiveness"
#cw blood#cw: blood#here we go again#ineffable angst#good omens#good omens fanart#aziracrow#aziraphale#anthony j crowley#crowley x aziraphale#the angel broke his heart#so now its his turn to do the same#there is a song perfect for this one#but i couldnt find it#long live angsty pieces#ineffable husbands#ineffable divorce
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at some point it's just like. do they even fucking like the thing they're asking AI to make? "oh we'll just use AI for all the scripts" "we'll just use AI for art" "no worries AI can write this book" "oh, AI could easily design this"
like... it's so clear they've never stood in the middle of an art museum and felt like crying, looking at a piece that somehow cuts into your marrow even though the artist and you are separated by space and time. they've never looked at a poem - once, twice, three times - just because the words feel like a fired gun, something too-close, clanging behind your eyes. they've never gotten to the end of the movie and had to arrive, blinking, back into their body, laughing a little because they were holding their breath without realizing.
"oh AI can mimic style" "AI can mimic emotion" "AI can mimic you and your job is almost gone, kid."
... how do i explain to you - you can make AI that does a perfect job of imitating me. you could disseminate it through the entire world and make so much money, using my works and my ideas and my everything.
and i'd still keep writing.
i don't know there's a word for it. in high school, we become aware that the way we feel about our artform is a cliche - it's like breathing. over and over, artists all feel the same thing. "i write because i need to" and "my music is how i speak" and "i make art because it's either that or i stop existing." it is such a common experience, the violence and immediacy we mean behind it is like breathing to me - comes out like a useless understatement. it's a cliche because we all feel it, not because the experience isn't actually persistent. so many of us have this ... fluttering urgency behind our ribs.
i'm not doing it for the money. for a star on the ground in some city i've never visited. i am doing it because when i was seven i started taking notebooks with me on walks. i am doing it because in second grade i wrote a poem and stood up in front of my whole class to read it out while i shook with nerves. i am doing it because i spent high school scribbling all my feelings down. i am doing it for the 16 year old me and the 18 year old me and the today-me, how we can never put the pen down. you can take me down to a subatomic layer, eviscerate me - and never find the source of it; it is of me. when i was 19 i named this blog inkskinned because i was dramatic and lonely and it felt like the only thing that was actually permanently-true about me was that this is what is inside of me, that the words come up over everything, coat everything, bloom their little twilight arias into every nook and corner and alley
"we're gonna replace you". that is okay. you think that i am writing to fill a space. that someone said JOB OPENING: Writer Needed, and i wrote to answer. you think one raindrop replaces another, and i think they're both just falling. you think art has a place, that is simply arrives on walls when it is needed, that is only ever on demand, perfect, easily requested. you see "audience spending" and "marketability" and "multi-line merch opportunity"
and i see a kid drowning. i am writing to make her a boat. i am writing because what used to be a river raft has long become a fully-rigged ship. i am writing because you can fucking rip this out of my cold dead clammy hands and i will still come back as a ghost and i will still be penning poems about it.
it isn't even love. the word we use the most i think is "passion". devotion, obsession, necessity. my favorite little fact about the magic of artists - "abracadabra" means i create as i speak. we make because it sluices out of us. because we look down and our hands are somehow already busy. because it was the first thing we knew and it is our backbone and heartbreak and everything. because we have given up well-paying jobs and a "real life" and the approval of our parents. we create because - the cliche again. it's like breathing. we create because we must.
you create because you're greedy.
#every time someones like ''AI will replace u" im like. u will have to fucking KILL ME#there is no replacement here bc i am not filling a position. i am just writing#and the writing is what i need to be doing#writeblr#this probably doesn't make sense bc its sooo frustrating i rarely speak it the way i want to#edited for the typo wrote it and then was late to a meeting lol#i love u people who mention my typos genuinely bc i don't always catch them!!!! :) it is doing me a genuine favor!!!#my friend says i should tell you ''thank you beta editors'' but i don't know what that means#i made her promise it isn't a wolf fanfiction thing. so if it IS a wolf thing she is DEAD to me (just kidding i love her)#hey PS PS PS ??? if ur reading this thinking what it's saying is ''i am financially capable of losing this'' ur reading it wrong#i write for free. i always have. i have worked 5-7 jobs at once to make ends meet.#i did not grow up with access or money. i did not grow up with connections or like some kind of excuse#i grew up and worked my fucking ASS OFF. and i STILL!!! wrote!!! on the side!!! because i didn't know how not to!!!#i do not write for money!!!! i write because i fuckken NEED TO#i could be in the fucking desert i could be in the fuckken tundra i could be in total darkness#and i would still be writing pretentious angsty poetry about it#im not in any way saying it's a good thing. i'm not in any way implying that they're NOT tryna kill us#i'm saying. you could take away our jobs and we could go hungry and we could suffer#and from that suffering (if i know us) we'd still fuckin make art.#i would LOVE to be able to make money doing this! i never have been able to. but i don't NEED to. i will find a way to make my life work#even if it means being miserable#but i will not give up this thing. for the whole world.
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Stop holding back 😎 show us all the scarian you've been hiding from us
monopoly mountain more like "we-don't-talk-about-feelings" mountain amirite
drawing kisses is fun :'))))
#ask#plume art#scarian#trafficshipping#i hope this is not dumb#:D#this had more panels but it got too angsty and i didn't like it#oh well
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