#thanks to everyone who ever looks at my art and finds a response from it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

aces-and-angels · 3 months

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ART CAMPAIGN BOOST SUBMISSIONS:

edit: i hit the image limit for this post, so any new additions will be included here

the tag is starting to get kinda crowded (great problem, dw). i just thought compiling them all here would make things easier for everyone to find! all of the art displayed below is free to use for the purposes of promoting vetted gfm's here on tumblr. no credit is needed unless specified (marked = ***). if you have any questions regarding how to craft a post using any of the art provided -> please do not hesitate to reach out to me! note: please press follow post as i will most likely need to update this masterlist from time to time.

some info is below the cut on how to best utilize this material. please read it in its entirety before using any artwork. thank you 🖤

learn how to make art for this project here:

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this project has gained a lot of momentum and has shown very promising results. the level of engagement once art is attached to a vetted gfm increases significantly. you will see what i mean as i have linked example posts of how to best use these pieces to help families in need.

i currently have a list of over 20+ families that i am spotlighting in my own personal progress tracker (the list has gotten so long that i now need to make a second version to accommodate all the families trying to get in contact with me).

this art campaign boost is truly meant to be utilized by anyone. i would sincerely appreciate it if y'all could take some time and pick maybe 1-2 people from this list and use the art below to create your own signal boost posts on the families' behalf. as someone who is periodically tracking their progress- i know that donation rates have slowed for a number of them. i am one person and can only do so much on my own. the essence of this initiative is to get more people to mobilize as a collective. it will take everyone to get on board in order for these families to be able to reach their goals. that means spotlighting their accounts/campaigns periodically.

you need to keep up the momentum.

the individuals you are helping currently live in areas with minimal internet connection, meaning it is very difficult to spotlight themselves on their own. especially since this site is continuously suppressing/deleting their accounts. they need you to interact with their content. tumblr isn't like other social media sites. it's known for being very 'anti-algorithm' and it's common culture for many of us to not really care about our levels of engagement (i.e. follower count/amount of notes per post). it's very hard for your own content to "break" your inner circle of followers and gain traction if the topic of the post is not "popular" or "trending" these families are not operating on this site the same way you are. you may be using this platform as a means to "just vibe" but they are using it as a desperate attempt to raise essential funding to save their lives. the importance that their posts be elevated cannot be overstated. anyone who has ever created any sort of og content here knows how quickly a post can die out if no one interacts with it. this cannot happen with them.

tips for making your own signal boost post* (*for vetted campaigns):

-> make it easy to read + eye-catching: the problem i am seeing when you search many of these families' accounts is that their "tag" (username of their account) is full of the same types of posts (i.e. a generic response to their initial message to another person on tumblr) <- aka it is very easy for people to tune out which is the opposite of what we want to happen. creating your OWN posts in response to their asks allows the art to appear FIRST when people look up someone's account via tumblr's search bar, which will attract more attention to their accounts. it also forces people who are making these posts to actually sit down and read the stories they are sharing with the rest of their mutuals/lurkers alike -> include verification sources: the main reason people are searching for these accounts is b/c they are trying to see if it is okay to reblog/share their campaign with their own following. if you address this plainly and early on in your post that includes artwork -> people are more likely to interact -> tag the account you are promoting: please include the families' account as one of your #'s so it will appear when you search for their names on tumblr. also try @'ing their account in your post so it'll be easier for these families to find your work. some of them are incredibly new to the platform and may not be aware of all its features. something that you may find intuitive may not be as easily understood for these individuals. your role is to make them as easy as possible to find for others so they can gain more support. --- don't have time to type out a whole post for a family on their behalf? -> interact with one of theirs! attach something nice/helpful to their posts so it is more readily available for others to share. the same rules apply from above. as i said before, some of these accounts are brand spanking new and are not formatted in the same ways as others that may be more well-versed on how tumblr operates in terms of promoting their campaigns. (for example: even if the account has been vetted/verified by multiple trusted individuals- the owners of that account may not know to include that info in their posts about their campaign every single time they post. you can make their lives easier by including that info for them by reblogging one of their og posts and adding the necessary info on their behalf)

you can also find a more comprehensive list of vetted campaigns by el-shab-hussein/nabulsi here <- their list is now over 200+ with several campaigns that are "in the red" (very low in funding). please do not hesitate to try to spotlight anyone from this list as well!

el-shab-hussein also has a masterpost pinned here with additional campaigns (including those for other countries like sudan)

alright i've explained enough- time for the art!

artist: @rhq274 | @rhq2744 *** free to use, credit required meet raghad (read and share full post here) Hello, I am Raghad Qanou, a medical student from Gaza City. My people and I have been subjected to genocide for more than 230 days. My family and I have lived through various types of torture and inhumane conditions. This link is my only chance for me and my family to escape death and try to start over. This is not easy. But we are trying, and we would be happy to have you help save our lives and our future. instructions to utilize artwork: those who wish to share raghad's art MUST do ALL of the following: -> follow raghad on tumblr @rhq274 | @rhq2744 -> like + reblog one or more of her posts seen on her account that promotes her fundraiser (you may also include additional art shown below to help further boost her campaign; see example) once those actions detailed above are completed, you may use raghad's art to promote her campaign. *if you are utilizing this art for another campaign that is not raghad's -> you must also mention + link her fundraiser as well /// for those able: please consider donating to raghad's campaign here (vetted; no 221 on el-shab-hussein/nabulsi's sheet)

artist: me lol free to use, no credit required example

artist: @lampyri free to use, no credit required example

artist: @aria-ashryver free to use, no credit required example

artist: @monmonp0k free to use, credit not required- but if given, is appreciated example

artist: @juudaimes-true-form free to use, no credit required example

artist: @gaiuskamilah free to use, no credit required example

artist: @marnota free to use on all social media platforms (i.e. tumblr, insta, twitter, etc), no credit required example

artist: @marquainequeen free to use, no credit required example

artist: @palms-upturned free to use, no credit required example

artisit: @inkyswampbones free to use, no credit required example

#art campaign boost #not choices #got around to making a masterlist #im tired after typing all that #if there are typos- no there isnt lol #🍉#i'll add this post to my pin later #i think i got everyone but if i missed you just let me know!

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withonly-sweetheart · 1 month

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Back to the Sea

The mysterious stranger on the boat happens to be your roommate and you can't help but wonder who he is. Something about him captivates you, but what happens when an artist loses his brush?

a/n: so... this is all @chesue00's fault. dont get me wrong ilysm pookie but i cannot tell you how much this was going through my head the entire day like i wanted to get home so badly and write this i almost told my teach to fuck off... but thank u ur so talented it hurts like that inspired me sm and thats what art should do! ty! <333

tw: angst?? bc its not my fic unless its got angst (hopefully...) uhm mentions of like illnesses and the flu and stuff but idk help

wc: 5.2k - yes im not even kidding i wrote this all tdy and its not even grammar checked will do that later hehehehehe <333

As the sun dips below the horizon, casting a warm golden hue across the vast expanse of the ocean, you sit at the edge of the ship, gaze fixed on the endless waves stretching out before her. The gentle sway of the ship beneath you, the salty sea air mingling with the haunting cries of the seagulls soaring overhead; it all served as a reminder of sorrow and loss that clings to you like a heavy shroud.

You take it between your fingers, as if you can feel the harsh, unforgiving ivory material form under your hand, and wrap it around yourself tighter, cherishing the small bursts of warmth you get from sitting up here.

Each wave that laps against the side of the ship fails to cover the whispers of the crowd steadily disappearing around you, pointing fingers shamelessly, wondering why a girl your age is sitting, all alone, staring wistfully out at the cerulean abyss.

Someone clears their throat behind you. The last thing you want is to be bothered, so you twist over your shoulder to dismiss them, but somewhere up your throat, the words clump together into a soft gasp.

You have seen him around the ship, when you were first boarding, but you didn’t get the best look at him. Now that you do, you know one thing as true as the sky is blue.

He’s breathtaking. His eyes, reflecting the azure of the ocean, flash with lightning quick irritation, as if your presence inconveniences him. The curve of his lips set in a straight line, tightening almost imperceptibly, jaw clenching ever so slightly.

If you weren’t looking so hard, you could’ve missed it all.

But how could you miss anything he does, when each ripple of his feature is like a brushstroke? An artist’s slow, deliberate intentions, painting the man in front of you.

“You are taking up the seat,” he mumbles, so quietly you almost don’t catch it. “Apologies,” you respond, shifting to make room for him. The dip between his eyebrows deepens and you find yourself frowning back. “Is something wrong?”

His gaze clouds, turning a muffled shade of gray. “No.”

You hum in response before turning back to the ocean. The heavy silence writhes between them, its unseen grip tightening with each breath. Your mind churns, sensing dark depths his haunted eyes warn away.

So you stand and stroll away, not sparing a glance at the brooding figure. You don’t wish to descend into his sorrow. You have enough of your own, and the tension crackling between you is nearly tangible.

You know well that behind every handsome man, there is a troubled mind.

And the windows to those thoughts are the eyes.

<><><><>

“If the brothe bee to sweete, put in the more wine, or els a litle vineger.”

You recall this line from a cookbook your mother once owned as you stare down at the barely distinguishable liquid in a bowl in front of you. Chips of wood flake off and dissolve into the mess of what you think are minced vegetables pooling at the bottom. Though the bubbles of oil faintly remind you of home, nothing else is the same.

You can’t remember the last time you had traditional soup, from the homeland, where everyone's the same as you and food is plentiful, rich in the scent of tangy spices and fresh vegetables and ripe fruit, where the forest birds sing sweet melodies in your ear.

But you are no longer there. It will, as all things do, fade with time, resolving as just a landscape drawn in your head, reduced to nothing but scribbles.

With a sigh far too troubled for your age, you gingerly push the bowl away, careful not to slosh any of it over the edge. You know you are being picky; food is food, and starvation will slowly creep up on you when you least expect it.

But it is better to starve than throw yourself from the starboard, letting the choppy waves consume you. Hunger takes time, crescendoing pain and ache until you cannot bear it. Suffering will suffice, at this moment.

And across the dining hall, the small room housing yet a few late night eaters, you spot him saunter in. Long, black trench coat brushing his ankles, a hat you did not see that now casts shadows upon his chiseled face.

His overalls strain with effort and crumple into wrinkles as he sits a few tables away, raising a hand, wordlessly summoning a bowl of soup that carries from tentative hands. He waves the aged woman away, and perhaps he does not catch the longing look in her eyes.

She has not seen a man so divine in years. Her time at sea has clouded her judgment. This is yet another reason why you must traverse the ocean blue, to prevent the jobs piling up at what you thought was your home, near the port, where the docks carry back the ashes of your family.

You used to love the ocean, the beach, the shores. When the sea hurt you, your father would kiss the tears away, murmuring soft assurance in the shell of your small ear. Although she was nearly a decade older, your sister would never decline an offer of yours to hunt for the little creatures that popped up from the swirling sand, watching them disappear underneath your slow hands.

You miss them. Influenza never failed to take, take, take; the greedy fingers latched on to your family before you could arrive home that day to sick corpses so pale you could not recognize them.

The doctor had suggested a traditional burial,but you knew there was one more thing the sea needed. You lit the pyres, watched their souls mingle with the smoke that gasped for the clouds, and waited.

When all that was left of your loved ones was charred, ivory dust that seemed to sparkle back at you, unaware of its fate, you gathered it into a pot that your grandmother gifted you.

The ocean rejected your offering, at first. It veered away, pulling water from the shore lines, but you stood fast. And it came back, gathered what was already gone, and took it away from you.

The sea never fails to remind you of what you’ve lost.

But here, on the ship, a marvel of engineering, keeping you afloat, you are not truly with the sea. You will not make yourself mold to the pitiful, lonely girl everyone expects you to be.

With that resolve, you cradle the soup back to your chest, staring it down with defiant eyes. The ocean will not have another victim, you will make sure of that.

It burns your throat all the way down, saltier than the sea. Bile raises to combat it but you force spoon after spoon into your stomach. All that remains from your battle is the wood, which you tried your best to separate from the soup, but you are sure that you definitely swallowed at least some of it.

As the thinnest definition of dinner warms your insides against the cold that threatens to seep in, your eyes find him across the galley. He sits alone, as always, nursing a tin cup and gazing into its contents as if answers lay within.

You recall your chance encounter in the night, the rare moments of grace amid tumult never far from his eyes. Though he often keeps away from the streams of people, you have the feeling it has less to do with aloofness than wounds not easily unveiled.

As if finally sensing your gaze, his eyes lift and meet yours across the dusty space. There seems to be no cracks in his steely expression, his stormcloud eyes, but there is a flicker of emotion - curiosity, or perhaps kinship's first stirrings.

You offer the barest nod before returning focus to your meager meal. Yet all the while, currents stronger than the sea pull at your thoughts, drawing them ever back towards that quiet figure and mysteries that beg to be revealed. You tilt your head to the side, rubbing fingers down your neck, feeling your pulse race underneath your skin. Massaging the area, you force yourself to relax.

You force yourself to believe that those eyes haven’t jarred your thoughts.

<><><><>

“I must… have the wrong room.” Those same eyes stare back at you, hands trembling slightly around parchment yellowing at the edges, swirling with confusion. “I apologize.”

“It wouldn’t, by chance, be 930, would it?” you ask.

“Er… yes,” he admits with a dip of his head, looking almost embarrassed by the situation. “I suppose I’ll go request another-”

“It’s quite alright,” you race to say before you can stop yourself. “I do not mind.”

A small corner of his mouth lifts, if only for a second, and when his expression goes back to being neutral, you find yourself wanting to coax more emotions from him.

You help him get settled in, telling him he could take the bed on the right. When he’s finished fussing with the sheets, you sit on your respective mattresses, awkwardly staring down at your hands.

"I... thank you," he finally replies, his voice soft. "I did not expect to find understanding here."

“Your name, sir?”

“Leon. Your name, I already know.”

“How fascinating.”

“You are a… popular subject of gossip upon this vessel.”

“Why are you traveling to England?” you ask, finding yourself making small talk to switch the topic. “Are you simply traveling?”

“Yes.”

“Where is your hometown?” His eyes glaze over with the familiar homesickness you can recognize.

"My home lies in a small village far from here," he replies, gazing into memories only he could see. "A quiet place, surrounded by green countryside and simple folks." His eyes find yours with rare openness. "And you? What brings one so young to cross the sea alone?"

“I’m paying my lovely aunt a visit,” you say vaguely, trying to make your voice light. But he must hear the undertones of it, because he cocks his head to the side, arching a golden eyebrow.

“Is that so?” he muses. “I hope you enjoy your trip.”

“I’ve noticed you carry that briefcase around quite a bit,” you say, quickly changing the subject. “Is it dear to you?”

He laughs, a warm, rich tone that sparks something in your heart.

Maybe… just… maybe?

“Not so,” he explains. He leans over to grab the case resting on the nightstand and clicks it open. “This is the reason I am traveling, you see.”

You peer over the top of the rusty case to reveal… pencils?

“You are… an artist?” you ask, slightly confused. You hadn’t taken him for a participant of the fine arts, but at your query, his eyes seem to light with an inspiration not previously there.

“I have lost my flame,” he says slowly, cautiously, as if placing his words carefully. “I thought England would fix… the problem… but perhaps… you could help me?” At your face, he bites his lip. "A smooth sea never makes a skilled sailor, as they say."

“Who has ever said that, and who am I to decline a stranger in need?” You chuckle, and his grin seems to usurp his entire expression.

“You need not do anything,” he rushes to say, hands flurrying to unpack the materials carefully stowed away in the briefcase. The determined, set look on his face is enough to convince you, and even if it hadn’t, realistically, would you be able to say no?

He stills suddenly, observing you, sweeping over you, drinking in everything, as if to absorb your being. When his gaze meets yours, he smiles and it truly reaches his previously emotionless eyes.

“You are… perfect,” he whispers. He holds his pencil up, bottom lip disappearing as he frowns, grumbling in frustration. “But this lighting is… not quite correct.”

Leon eyes the room, then stands suddenly. You watch him, watch him drag a chair from the small writing desk over to the foot of his bed, planting it firmly. He points a finger to the empty space, gesturing for you to sit there.

“What exactly are you planning?” You ask with a smile.

The one he returns matches your curiosity. “We shall see.”

And that is exactly how, a few minutes later, you sit with your legs crossed, hands folded over one another in your lap, with a soft smile decorating your face.

“You must stay still,” he chastises, gazing at you with a languid look in his eyes, voice dreamy, as if he sees something in you that you can’t.

“You have not yet answered my question.” You ignore the red blooming up your neck at his fluttering gaze. He lounges further into the bed, hiding more of himself away, spinning the pencil between his fingers.

He looks almost thoughtful as he scribbles away, muttering to himself, lost in a trance. You lean against the dresser, resting your body weight on it, feeling yourself relax.

His eyes move back to you, and he jolts, like something drastic has changed. His hands fly rapidly across the paper, gaze locked onto you. He smudges something with his finger, erases something here and there, and eventually, he huffs a sigh and leans back, looking somewhat satisfied with the paper.

Intrigued, you stand from your position, stretching your stiff joints. “May I see?”

Leon snorts a laugh. “Of course not.”

“It is my portrait, no?” You grin. “Show me.” Without another word, you lean over the foot of the bed, over the elaborate carvings of wood, and try to sneak a peek at the paper.

He lets out what you can only describe as a boyish squeal, and yanks the pad away from you, clutching it to his chest. “I said no!”

Leon tries his best to play-keep away from your hands, folding the paper carefully in half as he stuffs it into an inner pocket of his shirt. When you try to reach for it, instinctively, he flushes a red hue that matches the crimson of your bedsheets.

“Apologies,” you whisper.

“It’s alright,” he whispers back.

The air has gone back to tense, anguish, as if you are both hurtling towards something you cannot stop, racing towards a finish line in a race you do not wish to compete in. When he climbs into bed, wordlessly, you wonder what you did to deserve this torture, to have a masterpiece sleeping a few feet away.

He purses his lips and blows out the flame in the lantern standing proud on your nightstand, murmuring a quick goodbye.

As your eyes adjust to the absence of light, you watch the blanket blow out around him, creeping over his body, hugging him tightly. His snores come quickly, gentle and quiet, not bothersome.

You sigh and close your eyes, wishing for the relief of sleep to come as fast as his.

<><><><>

Strangely enough, someone rouses you from your sleep, something you didn’t expect. Breakfast calls were a luxury reserved for those with money, but you weren’t going to complain. Missing the first meal of the day had serious consequences in your household.

This isn’t your household, though. These aren’t your rules.

And that definitely isn’t a handkeep’s fingers clutched around your arm.

“Leon?” you murmur, rubbing your eyes, savoring the fuzzy corners before every comes into focus with sudden clarity. He stands beside your bed, gaze darting here and there.

“Oh… you are awake,” he says as he isn’t the reason it is so.

“You woke me,” you state blankly, blinking up at him.

“I suppose… well,” he mutters, then sighs, shaking his head. “Never mind that.”

“How often does this happen?” you ask quietly, sitting up. “Are you plagued by night horrors?”

“I am not a child!” he snaps, then immediately softens, regret pooling in his eyes. “It is just… I thought you had left…”

“Yet I am here, no?” you say, slightly bemused. The tips of Leon’s ears turn a salmon pink as he lets out a shuddering breath, nodding.

“I see that,” he says with a small smile, sitting beside you, leaving enough space to respect your privacy. You return one with just as much carefully measured emotion, not wanting to scare him away, wanting him to open up.

As gray dawn spreads its thin wings slowly over calm waters, he recollects himself. He tells you fragments of his past, picking up pieces of his past until it fits into a puzzle perfectly. An orphan, talent stripped from him by the urge to survive.

You faintly think that he should also be a writer, because the way he tells his story is akin to the way an author paints a scene with just words. You can see his parents in the shadows, echoing in his laugh, in the slant of his nose, the pucker of his chin.

He shrugs, twisting to face you. “I almost died, there, on the streets.”

“I’m glad you didn’t.”

His eyes meet yours, “So am I.”

Seeing him in such a vulnerable state, you can’t help but feel inclined to share what truly happened to you as well.

“I’m not… just visiting my aunt.”

A ghost of a smile graces his lips. “I was thinking as much. Tell me, what is the true purpose of your visit.”

“My family recently passed from influenza. Only sorrow trails me in the States. Perhaps returning to my hometown will provide… solace?” You offer a dry laugh, but Leon’s expression goes stony as he takes your hands into his.

“I… did not know,” he says, sounding as sincere as you’ve ever heard him. “I made such a joke without understanding the full context… I apologize.”

“It is really nothing,” you rush to assure him, but more so because the crestfallen look on his face is something you do not wish to bring upon. “I forgive you.”

“You are still tired,” he says with another sigh. “I will wake you for breakfast. Sleep.”

He’s right. Too sleepy to protest, you clutch the blankets around you and shut out not only the slowly growing beams of sunlight from the window, but also the relief that emanates from Leon’s very being, flooding over you, bringing you the peace that lets you drift off.

<><><><>

You wake to frigid air seeping through cracks in the ship's walls, clouds hiding the sun’s bright smile. Throwing off your thin blankets, you grasp the warmth, hoping it still lingers. But your hand meets only cold, empty fabric.

Panic rises in my throat as you rush from the sleeping quarters. Out on the icy deck, figures hustle to and fro under a pale, stormy sky. Your eyes scan for one in particular, relief flooding through you as you spot his lean form near the rail, gaze lost to the sea.

"Leon," you call softly so as not to wake the other sleeping passengers. When he turns, worry is etched into his brows. You brush it off with a shaky smile. "I had feared the night's dangers had claimed you at last."

“At last?” His lips turn up in return, reassuring you with his movement. But you can see the shadow neither of you could outrun, not with Death stalking your decks in his grim dance.

Drawing near, you trace his stare to the horizon, limitless and cold. You stand in front of him as he lingers behind, hesitating, arms outstretched.

“I wish to fly, one day,” you say jokingly. “But I suppose for now, swimming will do.”

“I cannot swim,” he admits quietly. “I never will.”

“Of course you can,” you insist. “Anyone can-”

“Not everyone has lost their brother to the sea.”

The answer burns, searing your back in the way he delivers it, venom in his voice. But eventually, he sighs, as if giving in, and you can feel him get closer.

“May I?” You admire that he asks before anything, and when you nod, he wraps his arms around your waist, pushing you gently against the railing that you clutch tightly. He rests his head on your shoulder, craning his neck to stand comfortably.

Then he speaks again. “My deepest apologies. As you can tell… I miss him.”

"Then we'll face such fears together," you say with such finality you believe it yourself. "None are meant to wander depths of sadness all alone. But your brother's memory lives on you - a gift more precious than any sea could claim. I know this. And what are you doing now?”

Slowly, you can feel his lips curl upwards against your neck, sparking at your words, growing into that smile you’ve come to cherish.

“You wish to fly? This is as close as I can get you, beloved.”

With a grin of your own spreading across your face, you outstretch your arms, leaning into the wind, wanting to let it carry you both away. Your fingers trace the sharp line of his jaw, coming to rest on his beating pulse that lives on despite all the world has tried to steal away.

You don’t know what overtakes you, the immense feeling of admiration you feel for him, that might be what spurs you to lean in. And, much to your surprise and pleasure, as soft morning light limns sea and sky in a hopeful blend of blue, your lips meet in a kiss - brief, chaste, yet speaking everything you need to hear.

“At least I’ll have you,” he says, melting back into your embrace, tightening his arms around your hips. “One thing the sea will never take.”

But you should’ve known.

The waters are never done taking.

<><><><>

You do not know when the screams started. All you know is that they came with the rough tides, crashing against the boat, with the crackle of thunder and smoke hissing in the air. Everyone rushes to cram into the sleeping quarters, but living near the port all your life, you know better. You know exactly what is happening.

The boat is sinking.

And strangely enough, your first thought is to find Leon. He had asked you to wait a quiet moment on the deck, and you had both dismissed the rolling clouds, steadily creeping towards you while he disappeared below the deck.

You had been hoping that he would show you his art. Now you hope that you can get him out in time. But before you can scrunch up your dress and scramble into the quarters, someone grabs your arm.

You do not see the face. You know it is not Leon, he is infinitely calmer and more gentle than the rough fingers of whoever your captor is. As you struggle to look up at the face, you are tossed into a boat that hangs on the side of the ship.

“Women and children first!” a gruff voice calls out, presumably the one that just manhandled you. You try to protest, saying you need to go back, but the small boat fills up quicker than you expect, and eventually you are being slowly lowered down onto the choppy waves.

You stand on tiptoe, trying to make out any sign of Leon on the ship, hoping he makes it out okay. The people rowing the boat harshly yank you down before pushing away from the boat. Every stroke they make takes you farther and farther away, until the dense fog shrouds the entire ship from your view.

And the unexpected happens. You hear a loud crack and the boat immediately splinters into two. The women and their children huddle to one side, the bigger side, while you and some other girls stay put, eyes fixed on where you last saw the ship.

With no one to steer, you veer back towards it and it comes into view, only this time, it is on fire. Flames lick the sides, hissing where it meets the salty sea, climbing up the ship. And you see the mess of blond hair that you so desperately recognize.

“Leon!” You shout, screaming for his attention. His eyes snap to your general direction, scanning the area with a wide, panicked expression before landing on you. Almost immediately his face softens before it returns to its stony, default look.

You are confused for a moment before he quickly surveys the area. A raft hangs from the side, unused, calling his name, and you realize with shame that your boat is starting to sink, dipping into the water.

You and the other girls lean to the other side, pleading for help. Summoning all fading strength, you yell his name once more as waves close over your head. Darkness swallows your cries, drowning them in the murky ocean depths, yet in your fleeting consciousness, your trust for him remains like the anchor you wish him to be.

Breathless, gasping, you break the surface amid a sea of shrieks and sinking debris. There through the smoke a ragged shape appears, slicing swift as any bird towards you. Strong hands grasp and haul you aboard the makeshift raft, lying there to cling and spend your remaining prayers in thanks to Leon as he attends each soul amid the roiling deep, ferrying them from the ocean’s inky grasp with steady hands and calmer gaze.

“Are you alright, dear?” he calls to you after the third and final girl is pulled to safety, gasping for breath. “I did not expect this situation whatsoever.”

“Neither did I,” you murmur, spitting the remnants of the salt in your throat back into the sea, like returning a gift. “I suppose we will be alright now.”

Leon’s face crumples. “I’m afraid not.”

You groan. “What is it now? Is it the sharks from the depths? I will fight them with my bare hands, just you watch!”

You watch his expression flash through amusement, then back to pain. “We… I…”

“What troubles you so?”

He gestures a hand to the sea around you, to the drenched figures, far too many for the raft to carry. You realize this with the drop of your heart.

“There are too many of us,” he says apologetically, like he’s only hurting you. “One of us must leave.”

For a second, you consider pushing one of the girls off. Anything to keep him. But you realize that your selfish thoughts should not take control. You grab his hands, clutching them tightly, holding them to your chest.

“Then it shall be me.”

Leon offers a weak smile. “No.”

“No?” you sputter. “What- it was not a question!”

“It will not be the answer either, my love,” he says gently, prying his hands from yours. “I will be the last. Please make sure of that.”

And before you can plead for him to stay, his weight shifts and you can feel the raft rising again. He casts one more, sorrowful look at you before he glides into the water, descending effortlessly. You reach for him, and your fingers brush his knuckles before he disappears forever.

Before he is gone.

Yet another loved one.

Lost to the sea.

<><><><>

You wait for an indeterminate amount of time, waiting for the news to arrive one day at your aunt’s doorstep, that he is still alive, awaiting your arrival in some uncharted region. But no such idea comes. And eventually, the denial washes away and you are left with the loss that nothing can fix.

You rock in the chair of your living room, the smell of your aunt’s soup no longer bringing saliva to your mouth, but tears to your eyes, because now everything reminds you of Leon.

The bell rings outside and you can’t bring yourself to rise and answer the door with puffy eyes and tear-streaked cheeks. Your aunt knows this, so without sparing you another look, allowing you your privacy, opens the door just a smidge.

She makes conversation with the person standing outside before turning back to you with a soft smile. She hands you an envelope, and you cannot lie when your heart races up to the sky, finding purchase in the fluffy clouds.

You cannot find the words to thank her, but she knows this as well, and walks away without another word. When she disappears behind the kitchen corner, you rush to open the letter.

The first words send your heart plummeting back to where it was, perhaps even crashing through the layer of obsidian and burrowing itself in a place where it will never return. But upon scanning the rest of the thoughtful, heartfelt message, there is a tug that forces you to check the rest of the envelope.

And when you unfurl a piece of paper, long since forgotten in your brain, you muffle a cry with the back of your hand, the parchment trembling in your five, shaky fingers.

It is the portrait Leon drew of you. It made its way back to you.

You know, after seeing this, there is one thing you must do. You lie the paper down on the round table beside you, careful to preserve it.

You wash up, put on a dress your aunt lent to you, a blue, rippling thing that seems to reflect the ocean waves back at you. You tie your hair up, wanting to look somewhat presentable.

And you call out a goodbye to your aunt, who’s smile you can hear in her voice, evident as she waves from the kitchen, ecstatic to see you out and about. But there is only one place you must go. One thing you must do to find the closure you are aching for.

Back to where it all started.

<><><><>

Tears that are the crystals of salt found in the ocean's depths stream down your face, as unnatural as the mixture of saltwater and freshwater, where one stops, another begins.

In the ocean, you slip from your skin, thoughts descending down a mad spiral, the spirits watching as you mingle with the essence of saltwater stinging your sunburned skin. The night air does little to nothing to cool your thoughts.

Is he there? In the droplets that cradle the back of your hands, trickling from the pool cupped in your palms. You can see him standing, just a few feet away, knee deep in the water, as constant as the waves and as calm as the tides.

Leon’s hair waves in the moonlight, a silent greeting to you, cerulean bathing his face in a ghastly blue, making him seem more and more like the ghost he is.

You raise a hand, out of instinct, choking back a sob.

A smile curves those salty, timeless lips.

“You left me too,” you whisper through tears, crystals disappearing under the crescents of water brushing against your shorts. “Why can life not just be… easy? Simple?”

Leon chuckles, face softening in sympathy. “Did you forget what I told you already?”

You lift your head, rubbing granules of sand against your nose to muffle your sniffling. “What?” His grin is somehow both brighter than the moon and darker than the water you can’t see through.

“A smooth sea never makes a skilled sailor.”

#leon kennedy #resident evil #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy fanfic #leon kennedy re2 #re2 leon fanfic #leon kennedy fic #leon scott kennedy

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beautifulpersonpeach · 5 months

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Peach..

I miss him so so much.

Can you gush about Jimin ?

Love how you wrote about him.

Thank you so so much in advance.

Whenever you are free. No pressure.

***

Hi @misslauwie

When your ask came in weeks ago, something in my chest squeezed a little. Because god yes I miss him too. Sometimes it feels like the whole world is kinda 'off', like everything is 'wrong', like we're all stuck in a holding pattern of sorts... And for anyone who thinks that's too dramatic, no it's not. Look around you. The world is kinda fucked, and the reason is because Jimin isn't on stage right now seducing the crowd performing like rent is past due, dancing his heart out, and singing like the fallen angel he is.

It's hard for me to talk about him these days though... I mean, there's always so much to say when it comes to Jimin, but the words don't form quite right for me these days.

Is it alright for me to simply post some pictures I come back to when I miss him and jikook?

Assuming I have your permission, that's what this post is going to be about.

(they cuddle)

There's this one from his last live before enlisting. Bare-faced, in an all black hoodie and beanie outfit looking hot as hell. It's the way he's giving 'Korean skaterboy who moonlights as a hacker', but at the same time he comes across as responsible, capable, and real. Cute too.

But lol, maybe that's just what I see when I'm biased.

Who else gets stuck looking at his eyes?

There's always so much to say about Jimin because literally everything about him could yield its own thesis. From the range and depth in his stage personas; to how pretty his body features are, before they morph into something more... deviant; to his voice that polarizes and entraps every audience. There's so much to talk about when it comes to Jimin, but I keep coming back to his eyes...

(This gave you whiplash didn't it :))

He's always known exactly what to do and how to do it.

Jimin is giving 70s cult leader in this shot and it's a fave. He's too modest to ever ask, but we all know we'd join a commune for him if he pulled that zipper down a little lower.

Anyway. Does anybody know why he likes this pair of shoes so much? I've always found them a bit ugly, but somehow, he makes it work. And it's clear he likes them a lot since he wears them all the time. But like... why?

Another picture I stare at on days when I miss jikook jikooking, is this one.

It's the moon in the shot that does it. The lines and symmetry, the afterglow of the sunset, Jimin's wide curved back, Jungkook focused on him, Jimin focused on him too, the fact someone else saw them like this and took this picture. They could've been chatting about what they'd like to eat for dinner or some other mundane thing, but it's the care and focus they show for each other that comes through so clearly for me in this shot.

This one has a place in my gallery because it's peak jikook.

As is this one:

Anyway.

Down bad for Baby G.

Imagine if PJM2 has a track like Set Me Free Pt 2 + Tony Montana... imagine the cataclysm it will cause in k-pop, imagine the havoc this cutie patootie pie will cause.

Sigh.

One day, when I find the words, I'll try to write about all the ways he charms. I owe a kind person from Tumblr (KPFT) a post about him.

In 2025, he'll be a 30 year old man desperate to get back on stage. And lord, I just hope everyone is ready.

This is the last one.

I come back to this picture sometimes because back then, they really did just have eyeliner and a dream. He gave his all right from the start and has created life-changing art. It's endearing to know he's both a bit of a workaholic and can be lazy too... and to know he still sleeps the exact way - like this:

...and this:

..and this:

@misslauwie I miss him too. Also miss Jungkook and the rest of the tannies. For Jimin, it makes me very happy that at least, Jungkook is with him.

He'll be back soon. 💜

#jimin #jungkook #jikook #bts

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paperweight91 · 9 months

Text

It Went a Little Like This

Summary: All Andy really wants is his happily ever after, is that too much to ask?

Pairing: Andy Barber x reader

W/C: 2850

Warnings: Dark!Andy Barber, allusions to non-con/dub-con, stalking, Andy’s lost it guys.

A/N: Okay, since I sent @krirebr the FMK and she killed the dark!one, I thought it only fair to share the story about why that one was soooo dark. Moodboard by @krirebr , dividers by @firefly-graphics. Please send all the feedback on this one, it’s much darker than I think I’ve ever written, and I’d love to know what everyone thinks! Comments and reblogs feed my soul ❤️

The convenience store around the corner from your house always had these little handmade knick knacks that you loved. You were surprised the first time you found a little handmade porcelain dog to add to your collection. After talking to the cashier you found out they bought locally made art once a week to give the artists exposure. You had fallen so irrevocably in love with that cute little pup you made it your mission to return once a week to find more.

As you perused the latest inventory, you saw a figure down the aisle. Looking up you recognized the man instantly, Andy Barber. His family had been spread across all the local news feeds for a year. You had always felt bad for him, going through the trial for his son, his ex-wife’s mental break. It was all so much for one person. You gave him a small shy smile and bowed your head as you tried to decide between the spotted Dalmatian or the cuddly looking pug.

Weighing both cute little creatures in your hands, you almost dropped them as Andy approached. “Cute.” He said reaching over you to pick up a Saint Bernard with its tongue lolling out. “You collect these?” His tone was inquisitive if a little confused.

You brightened at his interest, feeling your face heat slightly in embarrassment. “The store buys them from local artists to help get them exposure. And look how cute they are!” You held the Dalmatian in your hand up higher for him to inspect.

He chuckled at your eager response stroking a single long finger across the back of the dog. The action was innocent, but it sent something thrumming straight to your core. “You have many of these?” He quirked a brow at you.

“A few, I’ve never really collected anything before but I come back every week for these.” You smiled brightly up at him. A broad grin spread across his face, your enthusiasm clearly rubbing off on him.

He placed the Saint Bernard back on the rack, his eyes tracing each cute little face until finally he landed on a golden retriever playing in grass. “Thanks for the tip.” He reached out and gave your arm a reassuring squeeze before turning to head to the cash. “The dalmation’s the winner.” He tossed casually over his shoulder.

You let out a snort, going back to the two pups held lovingly in your hands. Finding more and more he was right, with a sigh you gently placed the pug back with its companions and made your way to the cash yourself.

The following week found you back in the artist aisle of the convenience store. This time Andy found you almost immediately. You were frowning at this weeks selection. Frogs. Who collects frogs?

“Nothing to take home today?” He smiled as he approached.

You grimaced as you looked at the faces. Sure they were kind of cute, but you just didn’t get it. “Frogs. They’ve never had them before.” You tried to pick your words carefully. They weren’t terrible, just not for you.

Andy laughed as your face twisted into a frown. “Come look over here, they’re not porcelain but you might like these better.” He clasped your hand in his and pulled you down the aisle. There were glass pups of several different varieties. You tried to suppress your excitement at his find, finding yourself bobbing up and down on your toes, your fingers itching to grab at them. He chuckled and released your hand and you eagerly grabbed two. Needing to inspect them up close.

After a few moments of silence you finally came back to yourself. You felt your body heat from your toes to your face at your childish reaction, in front of a stranger no less! You cleared your throat awkwardly and introduced yourself, juggling the glass pups carefully so you could extend your hand to Andy.

A slow smile spread across his face, his eyes twinkled in the low light of the store. The wrinkles that lined his eyes seemed to smooth at your own warmth. “Andy.” He said taking your offered hand in his own and pumping it up and down a few times. You found yourself drowning in the blue depths of his eyes. The beard that lined his face twitching up as he noticed your clear distraction at his looks.

It took you a moment to realize you were still holding his hand, and staring at him dreamily. You shook your head to clear your thoughts, it was inappropriate more than anything. “Sorry,” You mumbled, diverting your gaze to the glass puppies in your hand.

Andy stroked the back of your hand still clasped in his with the back of his thumb once before letting go. He gave you a wry smile, “Nothing to be sorry for, I’m glad I could help.” He placed his hands in his jeans pockets and scanned the shelves. “I’m not much for these, but seeing how happy they make you, I may become a convert.” He winked and ducked his head down, like he was embarrassed at the statement. You were sure you saw a bit of pink tinge his cheeks before he did.

“Thank you Andy, really! Although,” You hummed as you surveyed the precious puppies, “I really should cut back on these. I think I’m running out of space.”

He huffed out a laugh, “Maybe you should come back next week and see if they’ve got the porcelain ones back.”

You nodded, but seemingly like he could sense your reluctance, he plucked a beautiful small Labrador from the shelf. “Maybe just a small one?”

When you looked up you saw what could only be described as puppy dog eyes. You laughed and placed the others back on the shelf. “I think a small one couldn’t hurt.” You reached to pull the lab from his hand, “Let me.” He said.

You gave him a befuddled look. “Andy, I can’t let you buy this for me. You just learned my name!” A look flashed through his eyes so fast, you almost missed it. Ire at your casual rebuff. Taking a step back you shook your head, all mirth leaving your face.

Seeing your unease he immediately sprung into action, “I’m sorry.” He handed you the small glass pup and placed his hands on his hips. “I didn’t mean to. Ugh, I’m screwing this all up.” He brought both hands up and scrubbed them down his face. When his fingertips were at his chin and you could see his eyes again you saw regret and something else swimming in the blue pools. ��What are you screwing up?” You reached out and placed a hand on his bicep, feeling the tightly coiled muscle loosen at your touch.

“I saw you here, a few weeks ago. I’ve been, after everything, I just.” He hung his head and gave a mirthless laugh, “It’s been a long time since I’ve had to flirt or any of this and I’m suddenly realizing I’m quite terrible at it.”

“Oh…OH!” You suddenly realized that Andy, was not at all as interested in the small figurines you had been excitedly showing him the other day, he had been interested in you. “Oh I’m sorry Andy. I didn’t mean to, I uh, I actually have a boyfriend.”

You felt the air between the two of you change, like someone had sucked all the oxygen out of the room. Andy’s arm flexed underneath your fingers. He searched your face and let out a sigh, “Can’t blame a guy for trying, right?” His free hand came up and removed yours from his arm. “I think I’ve embarrassed myself enough for one day, I’m…I’m gonna go.” His shoulders slumped as he curled in on himself, turning and exiting the aisle, and the store, before you could even respond.

Your heart beat wildly in your chest at the exchange. How had your day gone so weird? You shakily released a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding, trying to expel the tension from your muscles. Something about the whole exchange with Andy had set you on edge. It’s what made you lie about a boyfriend that didn’t exist. Shaking your head for what felt like the millionth time today, you placed the cute little glass Labrador back on the shelf and made you way to the exit of the store. You vowed not to return for a while, let you both cool off a bit before another accidental run in.

Two weeks. It had been two weeks since your awkward exchange with Andy and you were itching to go back to the convenience store. You weren’t sure what it was about those cute little figures that had completely taken over your heart, but you knew you had to go see if they had gotten any dogs back in stock. You tried to distract yourself with chores, and movies, but you were so restless you could barely focus on one task for more than a couple minutes at a time.

You snarled at your reflection as you passed the mirror in your entranceway for the umpteenth time. Pulling on your jacket and boots before you even realized what you were doing. It was ridiculous really. It’s a store, lots of people go to stores. And so what if Andy was there, he was probably too embarrassed by your rejection to come back anyways.

Nodding to yourself in the mirror, you grabbed your purse and made your way down to the road. It was surprisingly warm for the time of year so you decided to walk to the convenience store. Silently berating yourself as you walked for letting a man, you didn’t know, throw you completely out of whack over nothing. He hadn’t even been that bad! He just seemed awkward, and you immediately rejected him without a second thought.

So completely in your own head, you didn’t even notice the silent figure approaching you from behind. Your pace was slow enough that they easily caught up, and pulled you into an alley off the road before you could even squeak. They placed a gloved hand over your mouth, but it didn’t matter, you were in too much shock to scream. You felt a prick in your neck before everything slowly went dark, and your limbs went slack.

Your eyes fluttered open, bleary and unfocused. You couldn’t remember anything, and your head felt like it was full of cotton wool. Something was wrong, but you weren’t quite sure what. You brought your hand up to rub at your eyes, and heard a low murmur from your right. “There she is, how are you feeling, sweet girl?” You froze at the voice, you knew that voice. You struggled to place it, but you felt strong arms pull you back into a warm broad chest. It felt nice.

Soft hands stroked along your sides, before lacing through your own. You felt the scrape of a beard on the back of your neck as he nuzzled into you. “I was worried honey, you slept for so long. Are you back with me now?”

You felt like a bucket of ice cold water had been dumped on you, your brain finally caught up to what was going on. The alley, the prick in your neck, Andy had taken you. Before you could stop yourself you began to shake. Terrified of what the man whose grip on you had gone from soft to iron could actually do to you.

“Don’t be scared honey, you’re okay.” His voice held an edge, but there was a roughness to it as well, one you were all too familiar with. “Just be good for me. Be my good girl okay?”

It was posed a question but you could see it for the threat it was. Be my good girl, or else. You knew you had to tread carefully if you were going to get out of this. “Andy, what’s going on?”

He sighed and you felt him rest his forehead against your shoulder. “Honey, good girls don’t ask questions. I know this is new for both of us. It’ll take us some time to get used to it. Just let me take care of everything.” He let go of one of your hands to turn your face to him by your chin. Bringing his own face close enough so his breath whispered out against your lips. “I haven’t figured out all the rules yet, but we can do it together, okay? Now are you gonna be my good girl?”

His eyes held a darkness, the one you had seen flash through them at the store a few short weeks ago. Your voice seemed lodged in your throat, and only breathy little whimpers seemed to escape. You could feel the tears building in your eyes and fluttered them closed as you nodded your acquiescence. You just needed to buy yourself some time.

You felt his lips twitch into a grin against yours. “Good girl.” He whispered before kissing you. At his praise you were surprised to find yourself getting aroused. You rubbed your thighs together as surreptitiously as you could. Andy licked into your mouth as his hand traveled down to the hem of the dress you were wearing. He bunched it up above your hips and gently traced his index finger up and down your thighs. You shivered, and bit your bottom lip, trying to contain your reaction to his soft touches.

“You need to relax, honey. Why don’t you let me help you?” You could hear the smirk in his words and he got up from behind you. He gently laid you on the bed and hovered above you. He stretched himself like a cat before leaning in to kiss you again. This time you gave in immediately, searching out access to his mouth. His kisses were intoxicating.

He gently cupped your cheek with one hand, his thumb soothingly stroking. You brought both your hands up to his shoulders, before settling by being gently clasped around his neck. His beard scratched your cheeks as he kissed you, a feeling you found somewhat unpleasant as you weren’t used to it at all. You whined into his mouth, and he slowly pulled away.

“That’s it honey,” he had mistaken your whine as one of pleasure and not pain. “Just let me take care of you, you’re being so good for me.” He trailed kisses down your neck and buried his face there. Your eyes darted around the room, looking for something, anything that could help you.

Andy pulled on the buttons at the front of your dress, opening enough to expose your chest. You inwardly cursed at your choice of a front clasping bra. Looking up at him with big tear filled eyes you brought one hand to his cheek and drew his gaze from your chest. “Andy, I don’t know. I’m scared.”

He shushed you and pulled you to his chest. “No honey, no. Don’t be scared, there’s nothing to worry about okay? I’ve known from the moment I saw you how perfect you are. So sweet, so beautiful. I knew, honey. Don’t you trust me?”

He pulled away so he could rest his forehead against yours. You saw nothing but truth in his eyes. Still you felt the tears leak from your eyes and a sob lodge in your throat, scared your tears would bring his anger back.

“Shhh honey, it’s okay. Why don’t we wait, huh? It’s been a big day for both of us. I’m sure you’ll feel better in the morning.” With that he extricated himself from your grasp and went over to the dresser. He pulled a silk nightie from the drawer and sleep pants for himself. “Come on, let’s get ready for bed.”

You nodded stiffly, and with Andy’s help took to your feet. You stripped out of your dress, feeling Andy’s eyes on you the entire time. Chancing a glance up at him you saw the steel return to his eyes as your hand twitched towards the nightie. Sighing you unclasped your bra and tossed it in the hamper, you pulled your panties down and stepped out of them, tossing them as well.

From your peripheral you saw Andy nod, and took that as permission to put on the nightie. It was short, but felt like heaven on. You climbed back into the bed as Andy swapped his jeans, t-shirt and boxer briefs for his sleep pants. You turned on your side facing the wall. Hoping he would fall asleep quickly.

He cuddled up behind you, pulling you tight against his chest again. One hand settled across your stomach, the other he wedged underneath your head. He slotted his leg between yours and sighed, truly content. “You’ll see honey, we’re going to be amazing together. I promise.”

You nodded and quietly let your tears flow freely, staring at the porcelain Saint Bernard sitting on the bedside table. Accepting that for now at least, you were the property of Andy Barber.

#it went a little like this #andy barber #andy barber x reader #dark!andy barber #defending jacob #chris evans

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wazzappp · 3 months

Text

Alrighty my dudes buckle up

GHOST RIDER D&D AU

also WOE. ART STYLE CHANGE BE UPON YE.

First things first thank you to my beloved mutual @moosemonstrous, who was basically the brains behind the operation I basically just wanted an excuse to draw tiefling Robbie and then got smacked in the face with an awesome story way beyond what I had ever thought of with KILLER fucking lore to match <3.

While I usually like to start with Robbie when introducing an AU, we're going to unfortunately have to start with Eli. A man who fucked up so monumentally that the kinda sorta god he's supposed to be serving went 'Bitch??? How about NO.' and humbled him faster than my DM can say 'roll perception'.

Ok I'm getting ahead of myself. Eli is pretty much the same personality wise as he is in canon. Insecure and desperate for power/control. He grew up surviving with Beto by doing jobs for the Myriad crime syndicate. Somewhere along the way he started serving his patron, Desirat, the twilight phoenix, in exchange for her power.

Im just going to directly quote what moose said about Desirat cause its phrased WONDERFULLY:

"Desirat, The Twilight Phoenix - companion and mount of Asmodeus during an ancient war, was torn from her master and captured by uppity mages. They were eventually killed, but she remained chained under a mountain, creating weird thermal phenomena in the area. Her sanity fractured in isolation so she thinks herself divine, and she lends through dreams and visions to those who 'carry a seed of fiery vengeance'. She now speaks to the minds of those who lie spurned and angry at night, calling them to unlock their inner flame and let Desirat aid them in their vengeance."

Desirat chose Eli as her champion to free her. She believed his faults would make him easy to manipulate for her purposes.

But eventually Beto wanted to settle down, and Eli refused to (to quote moose) 'Stop that warlock bullshit that EVERYONE SAID will get him in trouble'. And the brothers separate. During that time, Eli gets it in his head that he can steal more power from her by becoming a Litch. Great! In order to become a Litch he needs to have the most important person to him engage in a willing life sacrifice. Not great.

So he finds Beto and tries to get him to oblige to his sacrifice, and while there might have been a time where Beto might have laid down his life for his brother, he wont anymore. He has a family now. People who rely on him who AREN'T Eli. Unfortunatly, Eli is PISSED by this and kills Beto even though he isn't a willing sacrifice. Eli figures 'Whose really gonna care? A life is a life right?'

DESIRAT cares. She basically obliterates Eli on the spot and stores his lifeforce for later purposes.

(all stat sheets curtosy of the great Moose. Also I feel obligated to mention there was a scary moment during the art process where Eli looked like a beautiful butch lesbian. Horrifying.)

After Eli's spiritual, physical, and magical bitch slap, Desirat starts looking down his bloodline for a NEW champion. Lucky her, Robbie is RIGHT THERE. Protective of his brother, a strong sense of justice even from a young age, a hatred of when things aren't fair; he's PERFECT. She has plans for this one. Eli was a good test run. But she has IMPROVEMENTS planned for Robbie.

So Desirat waits until Robbie is old enough and strong enough to serve her purposes. In that time, Julianna goes out adventuring to get more coin so she can pay for Gabe's treatments of Greater Restoration and just. General food and water and general supplies. But she doesn't come back. She was responsible though and hired someone who was willing to take what she could offer to take care of the boys. Gabe still believes that she's still out there and trying to come back to them. Robbie thinks she's either bailed on them for a life of adventure or dead.

Around when Robbie turns 18, Desirat puts her plans into effect. Seeing as tieflings carry innate magical abilities (most commonly thaumaturgy, hellish rebuke, and darkness) it would be far more advantageous for her champion to be a tiefling than human. In the span of about 4 months, Robbie goes through a rather drastic transformation.

His fingernails harden, then blacken, then sharpen. Awful pressure builds in his skull that is only relived when the beginnings of horns break through his skin. A similar process begins with a lump forming at his tail bone and eventually bursting out into a long pointed tail. His canine teeth fall out and grow back in sharper and longer. His eyes cloud over to black and yellow, all the while his skin reddens and forms hard ridges on his arms, ribs and spine.

To say this is disorienting and painful is an understatement. Not to mention how it changes how the other people around the village look at him (not to mention how it changes how he looks at himself). Even though the stigma around tieflings isn't as strong as it once was, it eventually causes Robbie to be out of a job. So he decides to sell the house, pack up his things, prepare schooling money for his brother and move to the city where more opportunities will hopefully await.

GABE!!! THE LITTLE ADHGH. Idk why but I got extreme cute aggression when drawing this version of him fdjkslaf.

Gabe still has CP like he does in canon, but with the magical advantages of ✨Greater Restoration✨ he can generally function pretty well. He still gets tired sometimes though, so he carries around a walking staff as an aid just in case he needs one (also he can go whack whack. at least thats what Robbie tells him when he gets a little self conscious carrying it around).

Robbie has saved up enough money for Gabe to get a months worth of schooling at the Dawn Father Chantry in the city so he can learn to cast Greater Restoration on himself. Gabe's recent growth spurt has been causing him to need more and more frequent healings, and the Chantry in their home village of Hill Rock has been less and less obliging as of late (partially due to Robbies recent uh... condition. not that anyone would dare say it to his face of course).

Some extra fun doodles with expressions and thinking about how Desirat might look and interact with Robbie. I love when gods have a kind of twisted love for their special chosen people (plus some fun transformation horror cause its ✨me✨ were talking about what did you expect).

Also I really REALLY liked that top left sketch and got the rendering itch so I had some fun and painted it in.

Theres a whole fuckin. Second post to this au all lined up cause Moose when HAM on this. But its gonna take some more character designs so I'll need just a little time. but this will not be the last you see of this lol I promise <3

#I wanna make just a little resident evil au update rq but the sequel to this will be happening SOON.#i could not stop putting these guys into situations if my life fucking depended on it bby #not proofreading this bby cause I gotta go to bed but i ALSO need to get this out #I need to inflict yall with the b r a i n r o t #ghost rider D&D au #robbie reyes #gabe reyes #eli morrow #my art #sketch

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versadies · 2 years

Text

my songbird. (pantalone x gn!reader)

SALUTATIONS. my songbird

ADDRESSED. pantalone (w. gn!performer!reader)

CONTENT. fluff/no-angst, performer!reader, ooc pantalone, very fluffy, no tw as far as ik

STAMP/SYPNOSIS. although your performances are always memorable, there's always something else that made it all the more better, which is meeting your most loyal sponsor, your husband, afterwards.

PENPALS. @scaraslover @saving-for-xiao @dawgimsohot @kazu-topia @chiruru @aqualesha @renamichii @mrkamisato @shenhesl0ver @serami00 @serenareiss @hiqhkey @emperatris-rinaka @bystander36 @irisxiel @ladycoleigh @034ven @dear-dairiess @owozi8 @hadesaedes @chiro-chiro-kun @hersscherofyatta @mariusvonhangme @yuzuricebun @nejibot @hoshikistarlette @solaaresque @crowbird @lordbugs @flowersforayato @headintheclouddd @estelwrld @giyusimpsassemble @irethepotatosblog @moonlightaangel @alice0blog @shotosbrainrot @sniffoat @chihawari @mxsomn @kuni-kuzushii @jiminscarmex @mitsukii14 @nejibot @ylimeprive @sachispet @loreleis-world @sn-owo @starforecasts @someonetookmynamelmao @ceylestia @lychme @ymikkos @reallysporadicarcade @melodyyamino

POST-SCRIPT. enjoy your food pantalone lovers 😘😘

LINKS. MAIN MASTERLIST \ TAGLIST

Being married to a Harbinger of all people is something you never thought you’d end up doing in your life.

You don’t consider yourself as someone who seems to be the type a harbinger would like, let alone respect you. You’re just a performer that most - if not all - people enjoy watching due to how you use your vision in your performances.

That is, until you met your anonymous sponsor.

Your sponsor is one of a kind, you’d say. Not only does he give you a generous amount of mora for your shows and staff often, but he also sends you gifts every time you finish your show, all which were sent by a Fatui soldier or more depending on said gift. He also sends you a letter from each of those gifts, something that you always look forward to. You find it endearing how he calls you songbird, especially since it’s one of your favorite animals.

Of course, you’d send a response to him through the Fatui soldier who comes by to drop the gift, sending him gratitudes and how you hoped he enjoyed the shows you dedicatedly perform in.

You didn’t know who your sponsor was besides the fact that they’re associated with the Fatui, but you were grateful that you have such a supporter on your side.

By the time you did find out who it was, you were shocked to say the least.

It was during a certain ball that’s held in the Zapolyarny Palace and you were invited to perform for the Tsartisa and the Fatui, so it’s safe to say you were both nervous and excited. Nervous, because this is the most important show you must do your best in, and excited because you’re going to meet your sponsor personally, who wrote to you that he’ll be showing up and watching you among the audience.

When your performance ended, you were greeted by a very important man backstage.

“What a lovely performance, I must say.” He complimented, causing you to smile bashfully. “Thank you, Lord Regrator. I’m glad you enjoyed my performance.” You replied politely, bowing your head.

He chuckles. “You’ve come a long way, songbird. I’m proud to be one of your sponsors.”

Your eyes widen from the nickname. “It’s… It’s you.” You breathe out.

“It’s nice to meet you in person, dearest ( Name ).” Pantalone said softly. You watched as he offered you his hand as an invitation. “Care to dance, songbird?”

You look at his hand for a while before shyly taking his hand. “I’d be honored.”

And so the both of you spent the rest of the night dancing, talking, and everything together in the ball, not noticing the stares you receive from those who are in the ballroom. In all honesty, everyone didn’t expect to see the Ninth Harbinger getting along with someone like you, not expecting him of all people to be the type to be so interested in theatrics and arts (in reality, he was simply just interested in you).

Ever since that day, Pantalone started to come visit you during your shows whenever he can. Instead of the fatui soldier that comes to you for your gifts, it’s the harbinger who comes to you himself. The two of you then proceeded to have conversations that you would have conversed through your letters and lost time.

Eventually, the two of you fell in love and the rest is history.

You find yourself admiring your wedding ring as you sit down on your seat after yet another successful performance. It was unfortunate that your husband wasn’t able to come and watch your show, but knowing the duties of a harbinger, you could understand why.

You just can’t wait to come home and be in the loving arms of your love.

Eagerly, you started removing your accessories that you wore during the show. The faster you are with wrapping things up, the better chance of coming back to your mansion early.

It seems fate has other plans.

Suddenly, someone knocks on your door. You could recognize it was one of the organizers of the show, so you tell them to come in.

“Mx. ( Name ), it seems you have a visitor.” The organizer says as she slowly opens the door a bit, causing you to glance at her through the mirror. “Is it alright for him to come in?”

“Depends on who it is.” You answered, still removing your accessories. “I don’t have much time for a chat, I would like to come back home and meet my husband.”

“And why should you do that when your husband’s already here?” Your eyes brighten when you hear the familiar voice of the man you love, causing you to turn and see Pantalone opening the door wide for you to see him.

“Your show’s magnificent and elegant as always, my dearest–” Before he could finish his words, you suddenly ran up to him and gave him a hug, delighted that he actually came and saw your performances.

“You came!” You said excitedly. The organizer who took Pantalone decided to leave you two alone, closing the door lightly with a smile evident on her face. “How long were you watching? Where were you this whole time?”

Pantalone lets out a chuckle, hugging you back. “I was watching almost the entire show from one of the VIP booths. I enjoyed every bit of it.”

You feel your cheeks warming up from his compliment. “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

He then breaks your hug in order to bring out a box. It’s a small one, but not small enough for you to assume it's jewelry. “I also brought you something precious while I was on my way. Consider it as my congratulations gift to you for another successful performance as your most devoted sponsor.”

You let out a gasp. “You shouldn’t have! You’ve given me so much already!”

“Nonsense. It’s my pleasure to spoil my spouse as much as I want.” He said, opening the box to show you what’s inside. It’s a container that has a fine and intricate design, you can assume it was a new jewelry box for you to put all of your accessories that your husband gifted you.

Pantalone brings out another item, this time it was a key.

“Here, open the box with this.” He says, watching you slowly grab it from him.

You pull out the container from the box, putting it on top of your desk as you open it with the key that was given to you.

Once the container finally opens, your eyes widen when you realize what Pantalone actually gave you.

The container is actually a music box, one that plays the first song that made you fly to stardom and become one of the most famous performers in Teyvat.

However, it wasn’t the fact that it’s playing such a song that made you so shocked. It was the sight of two miniature figures of you and your husband dancing together inside the music box.

“Do you like it?” He asks, watching you stare in awe at the miniature figures.

“I love it.” You answer, your smile widens. “I can’t believe my eyes.. Isn’t this famous in Fontaine recently?”

He hums in response, now standing next to you. “Yes. I thought it’s something you might like when I first heard about it, so I personally ordered from one of the best craftsmen to make one just for you.”

You were too busy staring at the music box to notice how Pantalone looked at you with a loving gaze. He could tell how exhausted you were with how much you’ve been performing over the past few weeks, so he thought it would make you happy if he were to give you a gift that you can use whenever you get ready for your shows.

It wasn’t until he lends out a hand to you when you finally turn to look at him in curiosity.

“Care to dance, songbird?” He asks.

Flashes of how you and Pantalone first interacted face to face came to your mind from that one simple question, and you eagerly grabbed his hand.

“I’d be honored.”

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zombeebunnie · 4 months

Text

Trembling Essence:💙Background + poll results💙

Hello hello and welcome new followers! :]

Firstly I just want to say a very big thank you to everyone that participated in the poll I did last week, I was really surprised but happy with the results and responses! This will help me a lot moving forward! :,] If you missed it and would like to say which route you preferred feel free to comment!

Anywho, this week mainly focused on art practicing again but I did work on the game and managed to get my bearings even more!

Here is the new background for the start of the game:

This took a long time to draw up since I sketched out the background instead of looking at references this time. Once I got a basic idea of how I wanted it to look it felt.. too empty and flat. At first I couldn't figure out why until I added more shrubbery and grass. After that I started adding the trees and then added a few more to give it depth and adjusted some of the coloring. So far the immersive symbolism I'm going for is slowly coming together! Since it just finished raining where you're located I tried to give the background the illusion of looking tolerably humid but slowly getting colder over time with a hint of decay in the distance. This is a better look of the dreary foreboding atmosphere compared to the "fairy-forest" from last week. >:,] It took a while but I also added a parallax effect here and optimized the images to save space. I kept getting an error when it came to the middle ground so I had to find and fix the problem which delayed things. I don't have a video to show it in action but maybe next time. I do want it to be known again that these automatically happen and don't follow the cursor. :,,]

Here's a sneak peek of the new choices you can do when you're in this area now. >;]

This part required a lot of brainstorming before I figured out how I wanted the explorative part to go. This was originally going to go a different way completely but a particular day caused me to just scrap it and start everything over. I have a very solid idea on how I want all of this to go better than ever so I can't wait to show some of the new areas! I didn't expect this background to take as long as it did to draw up but hopefully next week I'll have more done!

Progress doodle layout:

Since certain endings are being changed I thought it would be cool to animate a progress layout to visually show how everything is going! It shouldn't take too long to finish this section up since I already have a foundation laid out.

Noah's sprite sheet update:

As far as Noah sprite sheets goes, it's still in sketch mode and I haven't messed with them yet since I've been practicing. :,,]

There are some old drawing prompts I wrote down and sketches that I'm still doodling up behind the scenes so hopefully I can get to them at some point with some attached lore. :,]

Q&A / Ask box is still open:

If you have any questions about Trembling Essence/Noah feel free to ask here please. This makes it easier for me to see and answer accordingly! I would really like to hear from you guys!

Thank you to those who have sent in asks after everything got reset! I'll try to get to them when I can along with the ones that come to mind that got deleted. I just need time to answer since I like to respond with doodles/drawings as practice. :]

Overall that's everything I have to share so far, thank you guys for your continued encouragement and support through all of this, I wholeheartedly appreciate it! :,,]

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rosenallies · 6 months

Note

"it's okay, just breathe" or "Ill stay as long as you need" with planymphia <333

well <3 I tried <3

——

“Nymphia! I’m back.” Jane called as she walked casually into Nymphia’s apartment like she lived there, setting down the takeout she’d just picked up.

Nymphia, who Jane had left in bed, was silent. Jane huffed, shaking her head as she padded to the bedroom, sticking her head in and finding Nymphia in a heap underneath the duvet. “Babe? Did you fall asleep?”

Still no answer, Jane tip toed over to the bed, gently lifting the corner of the blanket and peeking underneath. She didn’t find Nymphia asleep like she thought, but she found her crying quietly into her hands.

Concern clouded Jane’s features, eyebrows furrowing together as she kneeled next to the bed. “Nymphia,” she said softly, extending her hand for her to take.

Jane had never been good at comforting people, usually preferring to keep her distance from crying people, but Nymphia brought out a gentleness in her that she didn’t know she had. Seeing Nymphia anything other than happy and content made Jane’s chest ache, but this was the first time she’d seen her cry and immediately Jane knew she wanted to make it stop no matter what.

Never breaking contact, Jane slid into bed beside her, gently moving her head to her lap, stroking her hair while she whispered. “What’s the matter? Did something happen?”

Nymphia shook her head, moving to hide her face in Jane’s abdomen, wanting so badly to disappear into her partner.

“No? Nothing happened? Did I-?”

Shaking her head again, Nymphia cried harder, grabbing onto Jane’s sweatshirt and holding herself there.

“Oh, baby,” Jane cooed, “it’s okay, just breathe, it’ll be okay, whatever is it. We can stay like this as long as you need.”

While Nymphia sobbed, Jane spoke quietly and tenderly to her, rubbing her back and coaching her though breathing until she was calm enough to take a full breath and look up at Jane. Her bloodshot eyes and red cheeks broke Jane’s heart.

“Tell me what’s the matter. Please.”

Nymphia spoke quietly. “I-I’m just a bit in my head.”

Jane hummed, urging her to continue.

“I-I’m not as confident as you might think,” she said, shame washing over her in a red flush over her cheeks, “I just don’t feel-I don’t feel pretty today and-and when you left it just kind of all hit me at once.”

Jane was taken aback, not expecting that response at all, especially after they’d spent all afternoon into the evening alternating between fucking and making love and the thought that preoccupied Jane’s mind the most was how beautiful Nymphia is. If it were up to Jane, Nymphia’s casual little selfies would hang in an art museum.

“Sometimes I just feel so, so ugly,” she continued, making Jane’s stomach churn. It was one thing to not feel pretty, everyone had moments where they don’t feel their best, hell Jane didn’t feel her best in that moment in the sweats she threw on to go pick up dinner, but Nymphia feeling ugly was just unacceptable.

“But, Nymphia, you’re beautiful,” she replied, almost a little dumbfounded over how someone like Nymphia could ever think they weren’t the most beautiful thing in the world. Nymphia wasn’t cocky at all, but Jane would have understood if she was. To Jane, Nymphia was perfect in every way.

“I don’t ever feel that way,” she laughed bitterly, “sometimes I don’t get what you see in me.”

Jane sighed, running a hand through Nymphia’s hair. “You know I’m not the best with words and being vulnerable but I see so much in you. Not only do I think you’re gorgeous, but you’re also kind and funny and you’re the only one to allow me to let my guard down. You’ve softened me.”

Nymphia giggled. “Janey’s going soft on me,” she said, sighing before the smile was wiped off her face, making way for an anxiousness that wasn’t there before, “do you really mean all that?”

“Of course I do. I mean every word and I’ll tell you whenever you need to hear it.”

“Thank you, I still don’t really feel my best, but I feel better.”

Jane smiled. “Can I take care of you tonight?”

“I’d like that.”

“Good,” Jane said, leaning down and kissing Nymphia gently, “stay here and I’ll bring the food in here?”

Nodding, Nymphia scooted from Jane’s lap to let her up, sitting against the headboard while Jane brought the takeout into the bedroom.

“I know eating noodles in bed isn’t the most conventional thing, but there’s something that feels healing about it, don’t you think?” Jane said, settling next to Nymphia.

“As long as we don’t get anything on my nice bedsheets.”

“I won’t,” Jane promised, pulling the takeout container away from Nymphia when she reached for it, “let me.”

Jane twirled a bit of Nymphia’s noodles on a fork and held it to her lips.

“Really? I think I can feed myself,” Nymphia laughed.

Jane shook her head and tutted. “Just let me take care of you, I wanna take care of you.”

“Okay fine,” Nymphia relented with a giggle, letting herself relax into Jane’s doting.

#planymphia office au #prompt request

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saintsenara · 9 months

Note

I’m obsessed with your unhinged ship opinions! They’ve really gotten me thinking about interesting combinations which is such a fun activity for the subway

My submissions:

- Narcissa Malfoy/Petunia Dursley

- Voldemort/Molly Weasley

- Nagini/Crookshanks

- Walburga Black/Barty Crouch Sr.

ahhh, thank you so much @epigaea-repens - light of my life and producer of the finest piece of fan art i've ever seen - i'm genuinely delighted to discover that somebody other than me gets something out of doing these.

narcissa malfoy/petunia dursley

i'm oddly partial to a bit of draco/dudley - entirely because the idea of vernon trying to out-pompous lucius is funny to me, as is the fact that they'd clearly both think harry would care and harry's actual response would be 'who's draco?' - and i have to confess myself partial to this too.

narcissa's narrative mirror is molly weasley - both of these women share a certain fierceness [and, especially, a fierceness and strength one might not expect of them at first glance], but they also share a certain disconnection from the rest of their family, and an undercurrent of loneliness can be detected in their characterisation.

this is present in the way petunia is written too - the implication of canon is both that she's married "up" in terms of social class and that vernon is quite a bit older than her.

[and her fandom reception is a victim, i think, of the aging up of the adult cast of the films - petunia is, at most, twenty-four when lily dies. like her sister, she marries and has children young, even by the social standards of 1970s/1980s britain, and having to take on harry changes the trajectory of her life when it's only just started - i am absolutely wedded to the idea, for example, that harry being placed in her care means that she gives up a plan to have a second biological child.]

she is, of course, also confined in a prison which is directly of her own making - the bland domesticity of her perfect little house, all of which is an artifice constructed so she doesn't have to admit how deeply she once longed to be magic. narcissa experiences the same - i always read her as someone who leans heavily on the gendered conventions of the wizarding world as a way of coping with how utterly both of her sisters defied them, and as being someone who is very concerned with keeping up appearances [hence why her wildness and desperation when she goes to see snape in half-blood prince is so shocking]. i think you can imagine that she runs malfoy manor to have the same nothing-wrong-here vibe as number four privet drive, and i think you can do something very interesting indeed with the idea of two women who live behind masks being forced to drop them when they find each other.

lord voldemort/molly weasley

does, in fact, exist, in the form of a story i will recommend to everyone - come slowly, eden by paimpont - which, like all the best rare-pair fics, takes two implausible characters and creates a genuinely meaningful love story between them, through a lovely character study of molly and her ability to notice when people [and, especially, when people who are very much in want of a mother] are hungry.

nagini/crookshanks

i had to look up crookshanks' gender for this - which is a wild thing to say on a weekday afternoon - so that i could confirm... flopping. nagini's a lesbian, crookshanks misunderstood when she said she liked pussy.

it's fine in the end, though. nagini's got something happening with one of the malfoys' peahens, and crookshanks can go back either to the enemies-to-lovers thing he's got going on with mrs norris or to the soulmates thing he's got going on with sirius.

walburga black/barty crouch sr.

i am completely obsessed with this concept, i don't even think it can be considered a crack ship, and i would like to see it written immediately.

debilitating grief at the son you thought you knew disappearing - whether literally or metaphorically? delicious.

#asks answered #asenora's opinions on ships #unhinged and deranged ships #but only a bit

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psychicpinenut · 5 months

Text

netflix atla review

i decided that i wanted to see it through anyway so i finished the netflix atla. here are the things that made me want to hurl rocks at my tv (i might not remember a lot of things because i stopped watching after ep 4 and only continued this week so this might get rambly as i try to recall things)

let me start on the cast. no offense to these kids but my god. one of the things i hate the most is when you can tell an actor is acting. the whole time you could see that they walk up to their mark, stop there and recite the lines like they're in a high school play. and i get that they're young and probably don't have too much experience but i just keep thinking about the original voice cast who were children as well at the time of recording and they're some of the most talented actors i've ever heard. but then again i know they had to not only find people who resemble the characters but can do martial arts and act. so whatever, i hope they'll grow more during this. the only actor i liked was dallas liu who is the oldest of the main cast (i believe he was around 20 when they filmed this) which is probably why he doesn't have a chronic case of child acting.

constantly making up and/or changing lore:

why can aang only speak to past avatars in their shrines?

roku is sidelined in favor of kyoshi (who for some reason is extremely aggressive towards him) who can see into the future apparently because she gave aang a vision of the northern water tribe being destroyed instead of sozin's comet coming.

aang somehow being "lost" to the ocean spirit at the end which is ???

sokka and katara can enter the spirit world with aang

koh keeping his victims like some fucking spider and only gives them back after aang gave some stupid totem back. they also brought him so forward that he doesn't tell aang about tui and la which was the entire fucking point of looking him up in the first place

yue is a fox? in the spirit world?

wan shi tong is there also in the spirit world

i'm guessing they're already abandoning the ancient library storyline because they already intoduced wan shi tong and zhao was shown that he found out about tui and la from the fire sages in roku's temple. which is going to be interesting because that's where sokka finds out about the solar eclipse but i guess they'll come up with some other solution like toph can sense the moon moving through her feet or some shit

tui and la becoming mortals for only one night?

zuko having extensive research on the avatars should mean he knows that roku is his great grandfather but we're either leaving that one out or he's just not good at research

they took out sokka's sexism, thus eliminating any chance of character development, in favor of putting in actual sexism perpetrated by the show itself. suki is made into this small town girl, rapunzel type of character who needs sokka, the man, to bring the world to her and expand her mind. and then instead of sokka being grateful to suki for teaching him, she's the one that's thankful for ... going there? and bringing the world to her? because strong women mean they can punch right?

constant references to book 2 in the first season

they made so that aang didn't actually run away from his responsibility as the avatar - which is a pretty important part of his arc as that guilt follows him through the entire series - but that he only took a little trip to clear his head. which makes everyone accusing him of disappearing seem dumb and unfair

which leads me to bumi. why the fuck would bumi be so pissed at him? the whole episode he's antagonizing him and yelling at him to go do his job as the avatar meanwhile he's holding him hostage and making him do his challenges. like let him go so he can do his job maybe?? stupid

the entire ep 3-4. they really just shoved like 5 episodes together into one which i get because they don't have time to do everything but they did it so badly and the messages from each episode disappeared in favor of the CGI fight scenes.

like what do you mean sokka barely even got to interact with jet? that's the episode where sokka is proven to have good instincts and leadership because he saw jet for what he was.

why are teo and his dad here? what about aang's massive grief over the industrialization of his wiped out culture?

why would jet try to kill bumi? they completely obliterated the moral dilemma of jet wiping out a fire nation village because he sees that as justified even though he's killing civilians who happen to be fire nation.

for some reason they had sokka and katara go through the secret tunnel which is kind of fucking weird. i don't mind if they cut the kaang romance line but it is going to be interesting once it comes to the earthly attachments and some plotlines that revolve around aang having a major crush on katara. also what do you mean the badger moles sense "emotions"? toph is about to sense people's emotions in her feet and learn bending that way

they mary sue'd katara. she's bad at waterbending until she isn't and suddenly she's a master just from self taught basic waterbending she learned from the scroll gran gran gave her?? which is another thing they robbed us of because katara going to great lengths to steal the scroll shows how determined she is and desperate to learn waterbending but here she just gets handed the scroll. she's timid and lukewarm the entire season, the only time i can recall her even raising her voice is when she's arguing with sokka over jet. she gets mad at pakku for not letting her fight which is stupid because girl who is gonna stop you? go and fight?? you should be getting mad at pakku for not even trying to teach you waterbending. then she brings the entire untrained female population to the fight because girl power™. despite all of this, she's proclaimed a master without any actual training and beats zuko's ass purely because she's So Good. like at this point she shouldn't be able to hold her own against zuko without the full moon's help because as soon as the sun comes up zuko easily overpowers her ("you rise with the moon i rise with the sun"). which didn't happen here because she's a self proclaimed master now apparently

aang didn't bend a single waterdrop the entire season. it's book 1: water. it's called water. where's the bending aang? too busy doing another stupid walk and talk

stripped of iroh telling zuko he thinks of him as his son

stripped of one of the rawest lines i've ever heard on television: "my father says she was born lucky, he says i was lucky to be born"

which leads me into azula's character. they brought her in earlier just so her role in the whole season can be her groveling at ozai's feet, seeking his approval, trying to outdo zuko. which is insane cause she already outdoes zuko by a mile. she's a prodigy. they make it look like ozai favors zuko over azula which is so fucking insaaaane it made me so mad. she already knows she's better than zuko, she doesn't need her father's approval. also why isn't her fire blue.

iroh being the one who kills zhao. this one pissed me off so badly because in the original, as the ocean spirit takes hold of him zuko reaches out to zhao to try to save him.... that man tried to have him KILLED. and zuko still tried to save him. but zhao's arrogance didn't let him take his hand and that was his demise. that single act tells us so much about zuko and they just??? took that out??? so iroh can just murder him?? instead of it being the ocean spirit's revenge for killing its partner? instead of giving us that glimpse into who zuko is as a person? i'm going insane

don't even mention the fact that zuko fought back against ozai during the agni kai. he was literally banished because he refused to fight him. he got the scar because he refused to fight him. that's who zuko is!!!! and then they show us that he, a 13 year old boy who is still fairly inexperienced at bending, could have defeated ozai but he chose not to?? i'm sorry???

during the meeting where he spoke out against their plan, they made it look like he only spoke up because the general taunted him and not because he thought what they wanted to do was morally wrong.

now tell me which line hits harder: "compassion is a sign of weakness" or "you will learn respect and suffering will be your teacher". yeah...

yue bringing sokka to the spirit oasis to heal momo?? it was so fucking stupid and unserious that they were cradling a cgi lemur that i was in tears of pain. i almost gave up there

sokka constantly talking about wanting to be a better warrior and bossing katara around but doing absolutely fuck all to prove himself was insane. sokka was just standing around the whole season making bad jokes (cause wow they made sokka unfunny somehow) and flirting with women.

there was no goofiness or lightheartedness to aang. he took everything so fucking seriously it actually hurt to watch because they blew things out of proportion that didn't need to be. why was he so afraid of his normal bending power? not even his avatar state power but just his airbending. constantly angsting over his responsibility and how he's failing as the avatar. jesus fucking christ.

since zuko never stole katara's necklace, june had to use some fuckin random fabric she found on one of the trees that could've belonged to anybody??

zuko was able to capture aang after june found him instead of getting his ass whooped and paralysed so when zhao basically forces him to hand aang over to him, it's easier to guess who the blue spirit is as zuko makes a whole scene about it earlier

truly the one thing i really liked was the addition that the 41st division was the crew he protected at the war meeting

circling back to the first episode where we start out in the past and we get to see the whole genocide of the air nomads instead of finding out along with aang. we also get to see how he ends up in the iceberg so we don't get his story paralleled with zuko's backstory like in the storm. i mean whatever but the aang and zuko parallels were always dear to me.

hated zhao's actor. instead of him being intimidating and scary, he was acting like a frat boy and talked like tom cruise's character in magnolia. just simply annoying

jet telling katara to just stop being sad about her mom and she stops being sad and suddenly she can bend again. and later when he tells her she can bend because he helped her, she straight up denies it because it was "all her" like i gotta disagree there cause no, it was definitely him who helped you.

icing on the cake was when zuko walks into a bar and the patrons there reference like 4 storylines that they skipped over

so anyway... that's all i could think of at the top of my head and i hope they fuck up less in the upcoming seasons god willing

#long post #pine rambles #natla critical

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bajistadiamond · 1 year

Note

Hey can you make Singer! Yuu sing "Birth of Venus" with a siren girl that they are doing a duet with like siren in the sea?????

Yuu Singer, 🎶💎Ramshackle💎🎶 (Birth of Venus)

Answer: First, I think this is the first non-Disney song to feature in this AU. Second, I hope I picked the right song, because the other one said "Venus Illegititima." Third, this takes place years before Yuu's birth, but it explains some things about this universe.

Nabila Al-Asim was a beautiful and very nervous woman. Today was her boyfriend and fiancé's 18th birthday, and she wanted everything to be perfect.

"Friend, take a second to breathe." She advised Amira, her best friend.

Amira was the second princess of the Coral Sea Kingdom and met Nabila at the Golden Radiance Academy; a small magic academy, specialized in music and arts only for women.

The white-haired woman sat at her vanity to take a few seconds to calm down.

Amira got out of bed and went to her friend to do her hair. "Your boyfriend will love the party you threw; you have nothing to worry about."

Nabila looked at her friend. "Do you believe?" "Clear!". She assured the red-haired woman. "Although, you might want to be careful." Amira warned mischievously.

Nabila knew her friend too well to know that what she was about to say was stupid. "Oh yeah? Why?" But she played along with her confidant.

"Because maybe Salman will end up falling in love with me after our performance." Amira said, feigning a faint with a sigh. Seconds later Nabila threw a cloth in her face.

"You are stupid". The white-haired woman said with a laugh.

They both laughed, because for them this was a recurring joke since they knew that neither of them wanted the other's boyfriend.

After all, they both swore to be more than friends; They were and always would be sisters in everything except blood.

The night was perfect to spend a wonderful evening.

All the guests were very satisfied and surprised, although they shouldn't have been.

The party was organized by the Asim family, and they knew how to outdo themselves at parties.

Salman, Nabila's fiancé, even though he was from a wealthy family, would never have thought of having him birthday party on a private island.

Luxury was present in the mansion, the ice sculptures, the food, the drinks, the exotic flowers and there were even white doves with feathers that threw colored frost when they flew.

Although Salman would have preferred something more discreet, but perhaps that was the price for falling in love with the sister of his best friend, who descended from the most eccentric and partying family in Twisted Wonderland.

Right now the dark-skinned man was wondering where the hell Nabila was while she drank a glass of sherry.

"How's the birthday boy?" Salman looked at the newcomer; Hakim Al-Asim hugged him by the shoulders while he enjoyed a piña colada.

"I'm fine, super happy; you don't see me." Slaman said, forcing a smile. Hakim sighed. "I know you're a social misfit…" "Hey!" "…but can you at least try to talk to new people today?"

Salman thought about it for a second before pouting and shrugging his shoulders; Hakim smiled at his affirmative response.

"Only if my girlfriend is present." He asked Salman to his friend who agreed. "If I can find her, I haven't seen her or Princess Amira in over three hours."

Salman was worried, but before saying anything the lights of the floating stage installed a few meters from the beach turned on.

Nabila was radiant on stage; an aqua green dress, a pearl necklace with an amethyst pendant, golden sandals and natural makeup, for Salman she was the most spectacular woman in the world.

"Good evening and thank you for being here for the birthday of an incredible man and the best man I have ever been with." Nabila said with a smile. Everyone applauded and Hakim nudged a very blushing Salman.

"Now, as a birthday gift, I'm going to sing one of his favorite songs with the help of my friend." He declared Nabila gesturing to the water just as the beautiful Amira came out of the water and sat on the stage; her mermaid tail was emerald green, and to complement it she wore a golden shell bodice, a pearl comb with diamonds, and pearl necklaces.

"Enjoy the show~!" Amira said with a seductive voice that charmed more than one man...

Αχ αχ αχ αχ αχ ~

Amira's voice echoed in the water as she gracefully swam around the floating stage. Nabila moved her hips and shoulders as she prepared her song to use "the voice of the gods"

I've met with my peace ~ Between the moon and where I stand ~

The magic of Nabila's voice did its work immediately as she raised a hand to the sky and the stars shone in sync. Many of those present were surprised because many believed that Nabila did not have any magical abilities.

I have found catharsis ~ In every wave that crashes on the cliffs and I ~

Your secrets were never safe with me! ~

Nabila winked at her fiancé as she said that; Hakim chuckled because his sister always managed to leave his friend speechless.

When I scream, the sky is listening! ~

Salman couldn't take his eyes off his beloved; For him there was no other woman he wanted to be with. Nabila sang loudly as she spun elegantly, letting wisps of magic envelop her and transform her long dress into a shorter, more provocative one.

Αχ αχ αχ αχ αχ ~

Amira jumped back on the stage while singing the chorus; the view was spectacular

Your secrets were never safe with me! ~ When I scream, the sea is listening! ~

Amira sat back down on the stage when she came out of the water; She wagged her tail as she let the light make her shine. Nabila made her magic turn her friend's tail into her legs and into a green pleated skirt. Amira sighed in surprise, she normally used potions for that; her friend's magical ability always managed to leave her breathless.

See what happens when you try to silencе me! ~

Amira jumped up and danced with Nabila. They both played with Nabila's floating purple fabric. The party guests were enthralled with the dance that somehow combined Arabic dancing and synchronized swimming. Salman did not take his eyes off his fiancée, he felt that he was watching a nymph giving a show on Olympus.

I've met with my peace ~ Between the moon and where I stand ~

Nabila looked at her boyfriend and smiled mischievously when he blushed like a tomato. She was happy that he liked her gift; This song was special, since according to Salman, he was listening to this song when he saw her come out of the pool and it was as if he saw Aphrodite being born.

I have found catharsis ~ In every wave that crashes on the cliffs and I ~ Learned how to breathe underwater ~

Amira jumped into the water while Nabila moved her magic to return her friend's tail. Nabila let the fabric of her outfit wrap around her shoulders and let her float as the magic around her turned the stage into a large sea shell with a golden throne instead of a pearl.

While my lungs begged me for air ~ I fought my way to the surface ~ And carried myself to land ~

Hakim blinked, letting a couple of tears fall. His little sister was no longer a girl, she was a woman and he hoped she would be happy.

Αχ αχ αχ αχ αχ ~

Nabila made her magic make some flowers burst and the petals float in the air; she made sure not to leave pollen in the air knowing that there were allergic guests.

Your secrets were never safe with me! ~ When I scream, the sky is listening! ~

Amira took the pearls from her neck and threw them into the air, Nabila with a smile took them and wrapped them around her waist like a belt. The purple fabric was wrapped around Nabila's white hair creating a beautiful Rapunzel style braid.

Αχ αχ αχ αχ αχ ~

At this point everyone present was singing in unison, even if some were out of tune it didn't matter. Everything was harmony in the air.

Your secrets were never safe with me! ~ When I scream, the sea is listening! ~

Amira rose above the shell on a throne of water while taking advantage of the magical impulse that Nabila sent her to create a small palace of water and corals behind them.

See what happens when you try to silence me! ~

Princess Amira's mother was looking lovingly at her daughter from her sun lounger on the beach. She was happy that her daughter made friends with other races when she was allowed to leave the protection of the palace under the sea and rise to the surface. Although, years ago, the relationship between merpeople and other races, especially humans, has improved, there is still discrimination; So, she was a proud mother.

I've met with my peace ~ Between the moon and where I stand ~ I have found catharsis ~ In every wave that crashes on the cliffs and I ~ Learned how to breathe underwater ~ While my lungs begged me for air ~ I fought my way to the surface ~ And carried myself to land ~

Amira let her friend finish the song, she was very proud of the once shy and introverted woman now turned into an extroverted woman.

See what happens when you try to silence me! ~

Nabila lifted him from the golden throne and began to walk on the water to reach the shore. The magic burst into golden brilliance as the shell returned to a floating stage and Amira dropped back into the water.

See what happens when you try to silence me! ~

Nabila sang the last verse in front of Salman. Everyone applauded except Salman who looked at his girlfriend reverently before she gave him a passionate kiss...

...

Yuu blinked and yawned as he woke up. "What a strange dream." He thought as he sat up and stretched. For a second he didn't recognize where he was in the darkness until he heard a snore that wasn't Grim's. He looked to the right of him and saw Leona asleep next to him; Yuu then remembered where she was. He looked at the time and sighed when he realized it was 4 in the morning. He carefully lifted him out of bed, put on a jacket and went out onto the balcony. The cold air of the bedroom savanna hit his face and was very comforting. In a few hours he would start the plan to beat Azul and he hoped it would work. Yuu was hoping to see if his dreams would give him some clue or answer like he usually did, but instead he gave him what seemed like a flashback of people he didn't know. Although… for some reason, Salman reminded him of someone.

Note: In this universe, the Asim family is known for their platinum white hair. - Salman means protector. - Hakim means wise

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