#didnt mean for it to turn into that lol

[scribbling-dragon]

writing shorter oneshots has actually been so much fun recently. like, seriously, i love doing them. it’s great! im having fun, and being able to sit down and write something short n sweet has been super nice

[lilybug-02]

Pain is a great motivator…

Part 26 || First || Previous || Next

—Full Series—

Meanwhile Toriel:

(Loud noises don't wake her up usually.)

Artist note: I’m so proud of this :))) I know it’s a lot of dialogue and reading, but dialogue is grueling work for me. I’m glad with the art and for the amount of pages I made in such a relatively short time span -w- page 5 was super fun to work on. A lot of blood, sweat, and hours here... :) The backgrounds were a big bore tbh, but I finished them! Yippie!

[rhapsoddity]

After confirming that the assassin they stopped and restrained was definitely Skizz, they took him home.

Turns out "End" is NOT happy about this situation-

[meamiiikiii]

wanted to do a proper lineup of everyone with the shades i usually use :]

and also partially so i can also just grab the img from here in a pinch as a ref instead of looking for the file LMAO

regular bw and some extra tests under the cut! (expect below to be sporadically edited if i test more palettes out LOL)

^ literally just a test to lean more grey lol.

[min-xie]

help i cant stop drawing fem neuvillette

[voltstone]

clementine.

what the fuck.

doNT MAKE THAT FACE AFTER YOU SAY THAT. GIRL.

[muirneach]

i need to take andrey off my list of favs this shit is not sustainable

[bitchapalooza]

So apparently I've accidentally given Sanji a feeding kink in the current fic I'm writing without realizing? Huh...

[skitskatdacat63]

Fernando S1E4 - “Out of My Comfort Zone”

[wraith-caller]

Never been a fan of people trying to shape the Golden Order into conservative Christianity. Reading fics where they talk about women needing to be "traditional" or seen but not heard, when the figurehead of the Order is a woman who has waged loads of wars, had two husbands, makes a point of examining her faith rather than submissively accepting it. Seeing posts that seem to say the GO is villainizing the use of sorcery, a way of deriding the carians, when one of the greatest champions of the Order himself studied sorcery of his own volition, and married perhaps the greatest sorceress ever known. There's nothing to indicate the GO ever had a beef with the practice of sorcery, and it's not like they shuttered Raya Lucaria after the union of the Moon and Erdtree. Cringing every time someone describes Fundamentalism as the "thoughtless extremist" wing of the Order when it's supposed to be about taking a scholarly approach to the examination of the laws of causality and regression.

Idk. It's just, there's so many reasons to be skeeved out by the GO, and it exists within a fantasy with a totally distinct history from our own world. While there are obviously influences from a wide variety of real-world sources on the mythology and world of the game, it's not a direct copy of reality. It's lame to see sth so full of opportunity for interesting world building from fans just turned into a watered down copy of what they despise in reality.

[happyk44]

DID!Jason AU but instead of Reyna being the first to find out it's Hazel. He was there briefly when she arrived and he noticed the way she went into trances, how she'd stumble off quickly somewhere quiet and private, how she looked around and seemed disconnected from the world, touching things with hesitant fingers and only ever relaxing when her brother appeared at her side.

It's a massive vulnerability, but she falters and struggles and he can never let his people down. So he pulls her aside and asks her direct. She flubs around the truth, but he's too narrowed in, so she admits little pieces of it instead. He knows there's things she's holding back, but at least she's confessed to some of the pains - pains he can help with.

He talks her through different grounding techniques. How to center herself in her body, how to remain intact with the world. Even if the disconnect never vanishes, here is how to stay present. How to remember you are real, the world is real.

That you are alive and safe.

It's a month and some change, two days before he'll be plucked up from his sleep by his step-mother and have the few memories he can recall ripped from his mind, when she catches him stripping out his own pains the way an animal gnaws at an injured toe.

It doesn't flow as easily as the blood dripping off the edge of his sword. Instead it wells thick on the tip of his tongue. Like the blood beading on his thigh.

Hazel is quiet as she smooths nectar over the deep gaping wound. They both stare in pensive silence as it heals slow.

"Is this how you remember you're real?" she asks.

It's the first time they've ever acknowledged that his understanding of her comes from personal experience. He never speaks of it as his own - stays vague and distant. Veering too far into admissions of vulnerability makes Grace's claws itch and JJ's eyes well.

Too much risk.

The world is a dangerous place, his forgotten memories whisper from their hiding place.

But how do you know? he asks.

And the hidden memories never answer. But the knowledge remains. Never reveal yourself. Stay protective of your fleshy parts, your valuable organs. Be alert, be strong.

Don't cry.

He drags his thumb flat across the dried nectar. It's tacky to the touch. He chews on his lip. She stares. Doesn't say a word. He can barely hear her breathing, her chest unmoving.

Don't, Grace hisses.

He grips his thumb so tightly in his fist he thinks he might break it. Hazel presses her palm against it. The world tightens ever so slightly.

Then, "Has anyone ever said to you that I'm incapable of crying?"

She blinks. "Yeah." Shifting on her knees, her back straightens. "I thought it was a weird joke."

He pokes at the wound. Pressed two fingers against it. Pain spikes at the back of his head. It is a joke. He cries. At least, a part of him does. Has he ever cried himself - as Jason, not JJ? As the leader everyone looks towards, as the son of Jupiter, champion of Juno - the host of the body that never felt like his?

He can't remember.

"It's kind of a joke," he said. He's cried while laughing before. Teared up at a sad movie. But from sadness and pain... "But sometimes it's not."

She doesn't push. Lets him find his words.

"I'm not connected to this body like other people are to theirs," he says slow. He pressed his fingers harder into skin. The wound is near healed and it's unfair. The pain centers him to reality. Now it's a ghost of what it was, what it should have been. He didn't have it long enough to stay real. "Or even how you are to yours."

Her eyes flicker to the tacky residue and pink scar on his thigh.

"I... have... other people," he says, "... in my head." There is no eye contact although she tries. She shifts. He cracks. "One of them deals with the crying for the rest of us. But that's why I don't... I'm not..."

He doesn't finish.

She doesn't push for him to do so.

Instead she hums under her breath, a gentle reverberation he clings to. "When I was younger..." She falters then exhales sharply. "When I was younger, there was a girl in my neighborhood who talked about the people in her head." She pinches the skin between her thumb and forefinger. "Before I moved, her mom shot her dad because he'd been..."

The trail of her voice runs cold, but Jason can see the rest of it behind the frost.

"I'm pretty sure that wasn't me," he says. He'll never really know though. JJ hides everything in his damned cave. Jason's pretty sure he'll never know what truly happened to fracture him - to turn him into pieces of a person.

They can press themselves altogether as much as they want but there's still too many chips missing to fully fit in this vessel.

"Are they nice to you?"

He blinks. Her gaze is earnest. He looks away. "Yes."

"That's good," she says. She fiddles with her fingers. Clears her throat a few times. Then, "I was dead."

He pauses. Waits. It takes a moment before she exhales shallow and slow. "Nico..." She closes her eyes. "Thanatos is missing, and Nico brought me back. I was." Her eyelids wrinkles. She breathes in and out, presses her hands to her chest, then to the floor.

Grounding herself to reality.

Relaxing slow, she continues on. "I'm from the 30s. Sometimes my memories of back then hit me. Nico thinks it's because we didn't go through the proper channels for rebirth but..."

The proper channels wouldn't spit her out as she was. Would've washed her clean of thought and memories and deposited her into a newborn, screaming and crying and covered in blood.

"That's why I dissociate." She gestures loosely. "I think part of me still thinks I'm dead. And that's why I can't really... Connect to the world like I used to." Her brows furrow. "Honestly I don't really remember how I used to."

"Most people don't have to think about it," he says. She snorts and sighs. "Are you okay?"

"Are you?" she huffs back.

"Yes." He prods the spot where the wound lied. All that's left is the faint touch of nectar, no longer tacky and barely evident from where his skin soaked it up. "I've been this way for all that I can remember, Hazel. I'm fine."

She stares pointedly at his fingers. He bites his lip.

"I don't know why," he admits. "But it helps."

"It also hurts you," she cuts back. Part of him falls back internally, Grace rising to defense. He holds himself tight. She's not mad. She's not accusing. Just stubborn and pointed.

Everything is fine.

"It can't help if it hurts." Her face falls. She sinks back into her heels. "But I get it."

He wonders what hurt her that she thought was helping. If she remembers it clear and cut, or if, like him, it's been hidden away, locked up in a cave in the deep crevices of her mind.

"Grace doesn't like it when I do it either," he blurts out. She blinks. He clears his throat. "He's one of the..."

Jason gestures loosely to his head where Grace is currently blaring distress and bitter emotions his way.

"Oh!" Hazel's lip quirk into a little half smile. "I always thought Grace was a girl's name."

Indignation followed by a begrudging acceptance of the facts beats through Jason's skull. He chokes out a half laugh, stifled by Grace's own annoyance. "Yeah. I didn't realize that until I was older. Pretty sure he just took it because it's my last name."

"Is his last name Jason then?" she jokes.

He laughs. It rolls through his chest. A gentle contentedness sits in him, present and focused. "I never asked." I'm here and I'm real and I'm fine, he thinks. "But I don't think he has a last name."

Hazel nods before sliding off her calves and onto the floor. She sighs quietly. Then reaches for his hands. He's slow to take them but she holds him firm.

"Five things you can see," she says. She looks around the bathroom. "Toilet stall, sink, tiles, tiles, tiles."

He smiles just a bit. "Wall, floor, my sword, the hand dryer, and..." His eyes fall flat on her face. "My friend."

Her smile is small and warm. He clings to the sensation as much as he can.

"Four things you can touch." She reaches out to touch his face, then the floor, then her hair, then his hair. Her fingers drift steady through the short strands. Her clipped nails scratch gently at scalp.

When he hand rejoins his, it's his turn.

He smoothes one hand against the cool tile of the floor. One fingertip slides against the rough groove of grout. Next he pulls and tugs at his camp shirt, an old one that he sleeps in. He plays with the fraying holes for a moment before going back to Hazel's hand, gripping it tight.

He can touch her.

He's real.

"Three things you can hear," he murmurs.

He closes his eyes. There's the gentle hum of electricity coursing through the building, the sound of their entwined breathing, and the rustle of leaves outside the doors. He wonders how easy it is for her to go through this and the next bit. Sound and small carries on air. It's always easy for him to pick up the little things others wouldn't catch as well.

But she breathes in and out, and says, "Two things you can smell."

The bleach used to wipe down the bathroom. It's faint and lingering, but there in his nose. The crisp scent of coconut from Hazel. It's strongest in her hair, but drifts from her skin ever so slightly.

"One thing you can taste."

She snorts. "My saliva."

He laughs, and agrees, "Saliva."

Her hands are relaxed against his. Part of him doesn't want to let go. He's here, he's real, he's fine. Will that stay if he lets go?

Yes, Grace murmurs. You know it will.

Not for long, he thinks.

No, Grace agrees. A whiff of dejection curls through Jason's skin. Not for long.

He opens his eyes and lets go. She's still sitting with her eyes closed. But her hands pull back to rest against her thighs as she breathes. Then slowly she settles back into reality.

"Are you okay?" she asks.

"Are you?" he says with a wide pointed stare but a playful smirk.

She rolls her eyes. "I'm okay."

Together they stand. She stretches backwards and rubs her knuckles against her thighs. It's pleasant. It's liminal. The bathroom lights and the white, pristine tiles. How can they be so present in a place that oozes transition?

He flips his sword into a coin and tucks it gently in his pocket. His thigh doesn't hurt. Part of him yearns for it. The pain. The reminder. A strange tug at the back of his being that insists the pain is necessary for reasons beyond grounding.

He pushes it away as best he can and walks out the door with Hazel.

As he heads for the Prateor's quarters, she catches him by the wrist. "Promise me you'll try to find me next time you think you need a helping hurt."

Try to find her. No force behind her words. Just an assurance. If he wants help without the blood it costs him to breathe, she's there.

She'd like him to.

But he doesn't have to.

It's as bizarre as the sensation of ruthless acceptance that courses through him. Amazed acceptance undercuts it, his own feelings - thankful, grateful, friendship. But this ruthlessness, this pressing need to agree - whose is its?

Grace?

He nods. "I promise."

She tilts as though to leave but falters. Then, "And if you do need to hurt to help... you can let me know then too. If you want someone to make sure you don't bleed out in the bathroom or anything."

The laugh he exhales is wheezy - more of a distressed nothing than a genuine laugh. Her smile is wobbly.

"Maybe," he says because a promise can't be made for that. She nods anyway.

She gets it.

He wishes he knew how. So he could help her more, help her better.

"Night, Jason," she says as she twists and turns towards the Cohort barracks.

His voice carries on a soft breeze into her ear seconds later. "Goodnight, Hazel."

[zymstarz]

yeah sure that's how i'll [re]come out

[monstersinthecosmos]

i feel like slightly younger than marius mael is the best just for flavor reasons lol. reeaally curious to know what you think

I think I usually land on slightly younger but not like a baby. Like early 30s maybe. BUT I'LL TELL YOU SOME THOUGHTS OF WHY I LIKE EACH OR WHY EACH COULD WORK:

Under 30: First of all because of Jesse's chapter in QOTD--Maharet was turned around age 20 I think? And for Jesse, I'm sure there's that sort of uncanny thing where your mind fills in blanks and makes excuses, like, her "aunt" has been around her whole life so like gee golly I guess she just looks young for her age! Except that there's like the vampire uncanniness too, so whatever you judge as an age doesn't super matter. So like, Mael blending in as one of her guy friends in his early 20s would make sense. Jesse DOES also clock him as not being human, so again I think the uncanniness might not make her peg either of them as a certain age.

I do worry if this clashes with the idea that he could properly be a priest? Caesar said that it takes 20 years to train a priest, but A) A lot of what Caesar said is like anti-Keltoi propaganda and might not be accurate since the Druids famously never left anything in writing, so there's very little first hand information about them. B) MAYBE IT'S OKAY BECUASE IN VC-VERSE TESKHAMEN IS REAL AND MAEL WAS REALLY COMMUNING WITH HIM SO IF THERE WAS LIKE MAGIC AFOOT IN THE COMMUNITY MAYBE HE GOT FAST TRACKED OR RESPECTED AS BEING SPECIAL IDK. I can work with it and make excuses lol.

I LOVE the idea of him being like a young man because of how much madder that would make Marius, plus the way he likes to mentor young blonde men lol. But it might like hurt him even worse if the author of all his misfortunate is like SOME KID.

In his 30s: Personally I usually land here because I DO wonder how long it takes him to gain status in his community and become a priest (in his 30s is still fast tracking it but maybe feels more plausible LOL) and I enjoy the idea of he and Marius being sort of similar to each other. Like, Marius often gets used as the example of Turning an Older Guy and what it means for his temperament and the way it translates to his immortality. I like imagining Mael as around Marius's age for that reason, like I want to remove all his excuses why Mael is a young stupid kid or even an old salty jerk--it forces Marius to confront that Mael is ALSO someone who is chill and smart and has had enough life experience. BUT WHILE THERE'S A WINDOW WHERE THEY COULD BE SIMILAR IN AGE, OR MAEL COULD BE A TAD OLDER, I ALSO STILL ENJOY MARIUS BEING LIKE "HE'S YOUNGER THAN ME I HATE THIS!" BECAUSE HIS AGE AND SELF-PERCEIVED WISDOM & EXPERIENCE ARE IMPORTANT TO HIS IDENTITY AND HE FEELS BELITTED LOL.

In his 40s: Makes sense for the above reason! But I like to skew younger personally just for the Marius ageism dynamic lol. Also there's something about him being a foil to Marius where like, if they're very similar in other ways it can kind of emphasize how their atheism/religion contrasts each other and affects them as people.

Over 50: ALSO POSSIBLE and it's hilarious bc in the audiobook the narrator reads him like such a grouchy old man lmao. I could see this causing a lot of resentment because Marius likes to be the oldest and wisest in the room. I could see him also being younger because Marius insults him every chance he gets and I just think he would've told us that Mael is like an old hag if it were true lol. Anyway wondering how this effects Marius's barbarian kink and how he submits to men.

[delta-orionis]

I crocheted a little too close to the sun and now my hand hurts

[foccaccia]

does anyone have recommendations for fictional media that has like. actual lesbians in it. not like supergirl Two White Skinny Girls, One Blonde and One Brunette Kiss media, or "its implied lesbianism!!!" but just regular fucking lesbians

[todayisafridaynight]

THIS IS GONNA SOUND SO MEAN BUT WHY DO U LIKE RYO AOKI/MASATO

masato hot