#aaaand that's it

[scarecloud69]

Things To Never Say To Someone Who Just Came Out - Discworld Edition: Part 3

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

(source, art my own)

[noxachi]

Thanks, King!

Technotober Day 31: Crown (promptlist by @/JUZA4N)

And with that Technotober 2022 is finished. Thank you everyone who liked/reblogged or otherwise enjoyed the art i posted for this little challenge. <3

Finishing Technotober feels like finishing a beloved book series and I’ve had lots of fun sharing hcs, remembering iconic moments, and just in general seeing everyone react and have fun or even feeling emotional. 

This certainly won’t be the last time I draw him, even if I probably won’t post every day anymore. So, thanks for sticking around so far and see you soon! :D

[nicawlette]

CONCLUSION.

It felt like a some kind of cruel joke at this point, that the worst came only when she was by herself. After shouldering the burden of others, so too must she bear the weight of her own— then again, when had she ever stopped? Where was the luxury of letting go, or a pair of hands that knew just how heavy it all was, and lessened the load, anyway?

The mist brought all her greatest nightmares to life, mocking her with things she tried to forget. All the suffering endured to gain power— what was it all for, if just one face was enough to make her feel like a frightened child? ❛ I'm not weak. ❜ she cried. ❛ You can't hurt me anymore. ❜ But maybe she was, and perhaps he could, even as a memory. Sometimes she wondered if that helpless girl, desperate to be as small and unassuming as possible, would always live inside her— overshadowed by the woman with brutal strength and a personality big enough to fill a room.

Violence was the only method she knew to protect herself, and with the shackles on her abilities released, pure survival instinct took over. It was both a blessing and a curse not to be repressed, but with her rationality shattered, there was nothing to stop her from falling off the edge.

There was no one to help her, either.

Being alone never felt like such a disadvantage, before this place. Just an unfortunate truth. As much her reality as enduring pain was. But it was so much harder now, to cope with that feeling. She made the mistake of growing too attached, and now Nicolette had to suffer the consequences. What it meant to finally give a name to the the great, hollow chasm in her chest, and in turn, give it power. The loneliness ate at her, giving way to a deep ache that persisted until momentarily assuaged by a gentle smile, a kindred spirit or touch that seemed to say, ❛ I accept you ❜.

Without it, there was nothing to anchor her. She simply slipped away, bleeding herself dry as she sunk deeper beneath the waves. The past was not dead. It swallowed her into its depths and whispered, ❛ No one is coming for you. You are alone. ❜ There was no one to save her, so she saved herself. She always had.

I'M SO TIRED.

I DON'T WANT TO BE ALONE, ANYMORE.

The sky had long grown dark, though it was impossible to tell through the fog. Distantly, as if watching the scene through a second pair of eyes, Nicolette saw herself reaching a point of no return. And then, all at once, the mist was gone.

There was no victory to be found in her success of survival. Blood began to cool, tacky and thick, along with the tears on her cheeks; however, most of it painted the ground. The full scale of her power was carried away with the wind, leaving every carefully clotted wound to split open, spilling fresh warmth down her skin.

Beneath the familiar pain was a sense of unnatural fragility, unstable and ready to shatter like glass. Vulnerable like an exposed nerve. Even the adrenaline wasn't enough to overcome the consequences of how much blood she'd lost. One step was all it took before her vision swam and knees buckled. They hit the dirt, hard, and she shook with full body tremors. Her surroundings finally cleared, revealing the startling absence of bodies. Solid forms dissipated like smoke, and Nicolette watched the figure of her most violent loathing disappear. He wore the same twisted smile as the last time she saw him. It seemed to mock her the way it had back then, as he condemned her to Hell.

She collapsed into the grass after that, too weak to move, breathing ragged and weak even to her own ears. Everything else began to grow colder. ❛ I'm scared, ❜ she thought, ❛ I don't want to die alone. ❜

And then, there was nothing.

When Nicolette next opens her eyes, she's greeted by a white ceiling, white walls, white sheets— it's all the same, really. All very clinical, and she supposes it would be... because, somehow, she's in a hospital. The metal guards on the sides of the bed and constant, dull beeping of the heart monitor to her left are proof enough, but the poor interior design of the rooms seem to be a staple that she just can't understand.

They even look like that in tv shows. What's up with that?

She's never been a fan of places like this— the innocuous medical equipment and scratchy sheets are a far cry from the experimental torture she underwent in prison, but the aesthetics are still far too similar to be anything but horribly unsettling. It makes her stomach twist up into knots, a heavy weight settling onto her chest. Peering down, she can see the way an expanse of white bandages peek out from the neckline of the hospital gown. She finds that they line her arms, too, after pulling one out from beneath the professionally tucked blanket.

Everything hurts. There's no denying it. The smallest bit of movement causes pain to explode through every nerve, and Nicolette cannot repress a broken moan. The door opens then, and in walks a handsome nurse who seems surprised, yet relieved, that she's awake. Most of what he says goes in one ear and out the other, but she summarizes that her blood loss was startlingly extensive. She'd been out for a few days, at least.

Then, he starts asking a bunch of questions. Her name, where she lives, any relatives? Friends? ❛ What happened to you? ❜ Her throat is sore and her voice is shot, probably on account of all the wailing, but she swallows past the lump and forces a smile. ❝ I—I... It's, uh... hard to think, to be honest... I can't really remember much right now, and I'm in a lot of pain... could I get something for it, maybe? ❞ At least part of that is true, and she appears sufficiently pitiful until the nurse nods with clear sympathy and assures her he'll be right back.

Nicolette is alone, again, laying in an uncomfortable bed, in an ugly, white room. Exhaustion is etched into every inch of her weary frame, as she sinks into abject misery.

When the nurse returns, the room is empty.

The heart monitor is unplugged and silent while the comforter sits in a wrinkled pile at the corner of the mattress as if it had been thrown aside in a hurry. An IV lays abandoned on the bed, droplets of blood staining the sheets beneath the needle.

[seagiri]

pots n picks week - day 7: free day

[endlessapis]

share in the act of creation

don't tag as kin/me/id/muse/etc. please ♡

[radiojamming]

Have a sign from Grand Marais, MI that’s haunted me since childhood

[aphel1on]

text post meme (misc)

[nicolinocolino]

✦☽

[lemonlimestar]

extremely old robin doodles that i think are kinda cute. throwing it out there bc this page redraw is kicking my ass and i need to remember what joy was like

[livsmessydoodles]

shenanigans

[moondustinfj]

[aislinceivun]

Day 7: Protecting the other entry for radiostaticweek over on twt bonus art here loose follow-up comic here

[socpens]

love is in the air… this day, it so fair. for the scent of roses permeates the nostrils & uplifts the soul. what's this… a new episode of my favorite television show.. oh amazing I think I am in LOVE!

SPAMTON LOVE NETWORK https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2x_UfDfoRmo

[lynxgriffin]

Eldritchrune - Dreemurr of Sacrifice

1 | 2 | 3

Story Setup Eldritchrune Masterpost

Back in the light world, Asgore is still dealing with the heartache of the sacrifice, even months later. Mayor Holiday is still set on moving ahead, though!

Yay, it's nice to finally get back to some light world characters here! More with the Dreemurr family will be coming along soon!

Alt text for these pages under the read more:

Page 1 Panel 1: a landscape shot of the Holiday house and surrounding garden, with Rudy and Asgore outside the fence and hollybush hedge. The Delta Rune is emblazoned over the door and spiky snowflakes decorate the roof and fence.  Asgore is walking by with a wheelbarrow. Rudy: “Asgore, you old goat! Been way too long!” 

Panel 2: A closer shot of the two men- Rudy is slim and dressed in a crisp tunic, Asgore larger and wearing slouchy overalls. Asgore: “Howdy Rudy. You’re looking well!” Rudy, hand on his knee, bends over to hack and cough. Rudy: “Oh y’know… well enough, I guess! How’s business?” 

Panel 3: Asgore looks down,ruefully scratching the back of his head. His wheelbarrow is full of droopy plants, ready for planting. “Could be better… Those soldiers hassle me almost daily. But, I’ve gotten used to it, so it’s all right.” 

Panel 4: Rudy puts a comforting hand on Asgore’s shoulder. “Aww hey, you can complain to me any time…” he says. Asgore doesn’t avoid the touch but he doesn’t seem comforted. 

Page 2 Panel 1: close up on Rudy, who jerks his head to look as far behind him the door of the Holiday house opens to show the silhouette of a woman in a long dress. 

Panel 2: Rudy: “But uhh, I’ll let Carol here say her piece first. See you, Asgore!” He waves and pushes the gate open to go back to the house. Asgore looks taken aback. 

Panel 3: A textless landscape shot of the front of the yard. Rudy, halfway back to the house, turns to look behind him as Carol comes out of the large Holiday gate to meet Asgore, who is hunched in a half-bow with his hand over his heart. 

Panel 4: Asgore: “Howdy, Mayor Holiday.” He doesn’t look up at her, and we see only the back of her head, not her face. Carol: “Good day, Asgore. I appreciate you stopping by, as I wanted to inform you personally.” 

Panel 5: Carol leans into Asgore’s space, and he leans away, cowed. Neither of their eyes are visible, but we see their mouths: hers stern, his distressed. Carol: “We will be conducting the Ritual again in three month’s time, at the harvest moon. You and Toriel’s presence is required.”

Panel 6: Bust shot of Asgore, dismayed. “A…Again? You’ve… found another one?” His hand is still protectively over his heart. 

Page 3:  Panel 1: We see Carol’s face for the first time: she is severe looking, with medium length hair, a stiff dress, and a choker necklace and ornate belt. Her hand is also over her heart, though more like a formal salute. “I have tasked QC with obtaining the child.” 

Panel 2: Carol’s speech bubble continues as narration. “She’s been quite diligent in her duties, and believes we now have one open to the concept of self sacrifice.” The scene shown is QC- a friendly, soft woman with wildly curly hair- appearing to be at a street market. She is speaking to a child with a bandana neck scarf (Clover, from UT Yellow), but there’s no dialogue. 

Panel 3: Another shot of Carol in profile, gaze fixed intensely ahead. “With the Ritual rites already perfected, this time we will be successful.” 

Panel 4: A wide shot of Asgore, hunched over his wheelbarrow of wilty plant starts and flowers. There’s no dialogue. His expression is despondent. 

Panel 5: Carol: “Is there something you’re withholding, Asgore?” Asgore: “No. We’ll be there.” We don’t see his expression. Her hands are folded sternly in front of her. 

Panel 6: She moves once again into his space, pushing past the wheelbarrow to lean in. “I know that you two have been avoiding us in public since the last Ritual.”  Asgore cringes away like a dog that’s been scolded. 

Page 4: Panel 1: Carol continues. “Toriel has hardly spoken a word to me since then. I trust there is an explanation?” 

Panel 2: Asgore wrings his hands in front of him. His speech bubble covers up his eyes, but his mouth is downturned. “Carol… Toriel avoids you so much because she respects you. She does not want a confrontation.”

Panel 3: Carol, her expression still severe, almost angry. “A confrontation?” 

Panel 4: Asgore, still cringing and looking down: “I don’t know.. if I can explain just how badly losing Kris hurt.” 

Panel 5: His narration continues from the previous panel. “She’d be so cross if I knew I said this, but…” We see the past, Toriel kneeling and clutching the blankets of an empty bed, crying hard. Asgore kneels beside her, holding her shoulders. He’s crying too, unable to comfort her. “The night of the sacrifice, when we got home… Toriel collapsed and wept so long and hard I was afraid her heart would simply stop.” 

Panel 6: Sill the past with present Asgore’s narration over the top. “And then, once Asriel left too… Both of our children were gone.” Left to right, in the interior of the Dreemur’s house, Asgore stands dismayed as an unhappy Toriel rushes after Asriel, who is walking out the door with a bag on his shoulder. He’s looking back but is clearly set on leaving. 

Page 5 Panel 1: Back in the present, Asgore is even more hunched in on himself, hugging his fists to his chest with his expression drawn tight and sad. “I know Toriel acts as though she is fine, but that’s simply because she is stronger than I am. The tension between us is so terrible that I’m afraid she’d leave me if she had somewhere to go!” 

Panel 2: Close on his distressed, panicky face, looking away from the confrontation. “And part of me can’t help wondering… w-what if we were…”

Panel 3: Carol jabs a finger in Asgore’s face. “We. WILL. Be rewarded for our sacrifices. Of this I am CERTAIN.” She’s stern, but her fists aren’t clenched- she’s controlled. Asgore shrinks under her words, looking up at her as he stammers “I-I know, but…”

Panel 4: Carol’s speech: “You talk of heartache. Kris was not even your child by blood.” Asgore looks down, ashamed. 

Panel 5: Carol continues, hand splayed over her chest. For the first time her expression is something other than stern, perhaps angry- still that, but pained. “Do you think your pain is greater than the one I feel, for December? Whom I gave away first?” 

Panel 6: Asgore plucks at his sleeve, looking away guiltily. “No, of course not-” 

Page 6 Panel 1: Carol’s brief moment of any other emotion is gone. She sweeps her arm to the side. “And yet I have put aside my grief for years, all for the sake of you, and everyone else, in this town. I will do whatever it takes to drive this invader from our doors, and restore this town to the peace it once had.” 

Panel 2: Carol’s face is almost a snarl. “All I require is that you, my oldest friends, trust me.” Asgore looks abashed. 

Panel 3: Close on Asgore’s downturned mouth, so none of the rest of his expression is visible. “Of course. Of course we do.” 

Panel 4: Carol draws away, her face returned to calm sternness. “That’s good to hear. Our children don’t need our tears.” 

Panel 5: Carol turns to go back into her gate, dismissing Asgore with a wave. “But our town does need our efforts.”  Asgore watches her go, putting his hands back to his wheelbarrow. 

Page 7 Panel 1: Another wide shot of the Holiday house and gardens, with Carol walking back to the house and Asgore outside the gate. Carol: “So I’ll see you both at the next gathering.” 

Panel 2: Asgore looks down at his wheelbarrow, despondently. His plants are all notably wilted. “Good day, Mayor.” The sky behind him darkens. 

[vetteldixon]

incredible scenes the big game that really matters: the XXth puppy bowl

[biblically-accurate-dca]

substitute