Tumgik
#and i have been trying to recover
mallowstep · 1 year
Note
i hope you’re doing okay. 💙 it’s ok if you don’t answer this, i just wanted you to know folks are still thinking about you and wanting good things for you.
thank you babe (and thank you to everyone else who sent a message to this effect; i will answer them when i can)
i'm doing pretty well right now. i've been very busy at work, working on a top secret classified project (god only knows when you'll get more details than what i've already shared ;3), and also just. recovering from depression. there is so much of my life that even months out from the worst of it, i'm still trying to pull the pieces back together.
i have been writing a little. it's been difficult, mostly because of numerous incidents regarding writing and mental health (if you've been here for a while, you probably know about them; if you're new, the tldr is "mallowstep went off the wall for a bit and he's fine but it left him feeling bad"), and now i face down the summer which is...rough, mentally.
i don't know what normal looks like for me right now. i want to write but i don't know how it will fit into my life. i'm still making space for myself, in all the chaos and reconstruction. i know writing will be a part of normal for me. i just don't know where it fits yet.
it's been a while since i've felt like myself. the hollow feeling is abating. i am finding words to describe emotion again, that are more than just there or missing. i have been thinking about the stories i have yet to work on. what i want to tell next.
it has been an incredible two years for me. when i started this blog, i had just been broken up with by my boyfriend of three years, only a month or so after my childhood cat and dog had died one day apart. i was coping with so much impossible grief: i wrote the second chapter of i'll come back to you someday soon myself after my grandmother died, and i did not write anything after that for quite a while.
my wrists are healing. they hurt a little today and i'm not sure why, but they are healing.
i'll be going back to university as a natural resources major. i want a job that lets me protect and cultivate the forests i find so much comfort in. the complex webs of their ecosystems bring me so much delight. did you know trees talk to their daughters? did you know they care for their children? protect them?
it has been an incredible two years. i met my now-partner, learned how to actually trust people, and failed out of a year of college due to collapsing mental health. i went through approximately one million assessments to get a diagnosis and understand what was happening to me. i had a doctor tell me i was being undermedicated to an astounding degree. i had to let go of my beloved plants because i couldn't keep myself alive, much less then. i found a job i love so much i am eager to go to work every morning.
i honestly don't think i would've recognized who i am now, back when i started out here. i have become someone who trusts. who has connections with people. who does not fear so much. (i have also become someone who cries as i drive home from work sometimes. i have also become someone who needs to sit on the floor and count all the pieces of art i can see. we move in spirals, not straight lines.)
all of this is to say, i have been quiet on here for quite a while because i have been recovering from two years (a lifetime) of some truly exhausting events, as well as letting myself find things i enjoy. when i got out of high school, i loved what i was doing academically. i had very little passion. it had been bled out of me.
i am incredibly grateful to each and every one of you. your support, even in my period of dormancy, has meant so much. my relationship with writing sometimes feels like i am fighting my double, trying to balance both my need to use writing to understand myself, and my tendencies to ruin myself in the process.
i still don't have any promises to make, because i really don't know what's next for me. but i am still here, and you all still mean something to me.
with all my love, mallow
24 notes · View notes
hansoeii · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media
crowley
13K notes · View notes
luxaofhesperides · 3 months
Text
Soulmark AU + Sleeping Beauty ; requested by @candeartist422!
For the last few years, Duke’s been waiting for his soulmate to die.
It sounds cruel to say it that way. But the waiting is more painful, he thinks, than just mourning a lost love. It’s not like most people ever meet their soulmates anyways; his parents weren’t meant to be, but they still loved each other and had a life together. He wishes he could turn his focus away from his soulmate, but Duke is a romantic at heart and has always wanted to find the other half of his soul.
But since he was fourteen, his soulmark has dulled, fading in and out of color. What was once a vibrant blue crystal star, with eight points and a swirl of watercolor hues around it, dimmed more and more until Duke was sure he was watching his soulmate die slowly. 
His soulmate didn’t die then. Whoever they are got better, his soulmark gaining color, but it never went back to the way it was. For years after, Duke would check at the beginning and end of each day, keeping track of when it faded and when it regained its color. 
He thought his soulmate was sick. In and out of hospitals, fighting to stay alive.
And then it went nearly colorless. 
Duke doesn’t remember much about that day. He knows he woke up, brushed his teeth, the lifted up his shirt to check his soulmark in the mirror. The blue was almost completely gone, the star on his left hipbone nearly gray with how colorless it was. He started at it for a moment, shocked, and reality slid away from him as he retreated into the safety of his mind, fully dissociating. 
Bruce had found him when Duke didn’t show up for breakfast. He held him and offered quiet words of comfort that Duke couldn’t understand, but just having someone with him lessened the hurt of losing his soulmate. 
Seeing the color come back the next day, faint as it was, hurt even more.
A year later, Duke still can’t break the habit of checking his soulmark twice a day. It hasn’t changed at all, still faint and dim, but carrying just enough color to show that his soulmate was still alive. At the very least, they were still breathing, but his chance of ever meeting them is basically zero. Still, he can’t help but hope, wishing that he could meet them even once before they die and leave him forever. 
“Same as ever,” he murmurs to himself as he brushes his thumb against his soulmark. He’s terrified that he’s forgotten how beautiful the blue of it was when his soulmate was healthy. 
Duke doesn’t let himself think on it too much anymore. Though his thoughts often turn to his soulmate during quiet moments like these, the busy nature of Gotham is usually more than enough to pull his attention back to the here and now. There’s no use in obsessing over his soulmate anyways; they’re just going to die, sooner or later, and Duke knows he’ll never get to meet them. They’ll just be another empty space in his life, right next to his parents. 
“Come on, Thomas, focus,” he tells himself firmly, then gets dressed and heads down to the kitchen for breakfast.
The manor is quiet. It usually is in the mornings, with everyone from the night shift dead asleep and trying to get as much rest as they can before they have to start their day. Not that many of them stay in the manor these days; Duke and Damian are the only permanent residents at the moment, but Steph usually stays half with her mom and half in the manor during the summers when she’s home from college, and the others drop in whenever they feel like it. 
Bruce lives more in the Batcave than the manor, so he doesn’t really count. It’s also why Duke is surprised to see Bruce awake and dressed like a normal person, drinking coffee in the kitchen as if this is a normal occurrence. 
“Morning,” Duke offers.
“Good morning, Duke,” Bruce replies. “Sleep well?”
“Well enough. Alfred out or something?”
“He may have kicked me out of the Batcave to clean it up a bit,” Bruce answers tiredly. “Want me to make breakfast?”
Duke has heard the horror stories of Bruce’s attempts to make edible food in a kitchen. In the interest of not dealing with food poisoning, Duke shakes his head quickly and says, “Nah, it’s fine. I was kinda wanting to eat out for breakfast. Get out there as me, and not a mask, you know?”
“Mind if I join you? Alfred may forgive me for not sleeping if I willingly go outside.”
Duke laughs. “Sure man, as long as you pay.”
“I’ll drive, too.”
“What, don’t trust me behind a wheel?”
Bruce gives him a tired look, eyes dead and dull. “I have taught all my children how to drive. The day I willingly let them take the wheel when I am not actively dying is the day I’ve been replaced by a robot clone of myself who doesn’t know better yet.”
“That is… very specific. Is that a thing you usually worry about?”
“I’m Batman. I have to worry about everything.”
Yeah, that tracks. Duke wouldn’t be surprised if he has at least five contingency plans for that scenario, should it ever happen. “Well,” he says, “Right now, all you need to worry about is having your wallet and driving us down to The Foodie Nook. I’ve been craving their breakfast plates for ages.”
Bruce doesn’t object to his choice of restaurant and follows Duke down to the garage, grabbing a random set of keys and pointing it out to the many cars he owns. One near the front blinks its lights as it unlocks and Duke cheerfully tosses himself into the passenger seat as Bruce opens the garage door. 
The drive into Gotham is smooth. They don’t hit traffic until they reach the bridge that leads into the city proper, taking them away from the quiet of Bristol. The morning is busy, but not enough that Duke worries about being out as the Signal to help keep the peace. It’s a normal type of busy, one borne from people going about their lives, feeling safe enough to go out. 
The Foodie Nook is entirely local and very popular, so the parking lot is nearly full. But they expanded their space last year, which means he and Bruce don’t have to sit outside while they wait to grab a table. Bruce keeps conversation light and casual, well aware of the many listening ears around them, and it’s nice, feeling normal for once. 
Well, as normal as life can be with Bruce Wayne™. The server who comes to lead them to a table realizes who she’s talking to after she gets a proper look at them while holding open the door and promptly stutters over her words. 
“No need for any special treatment,” Bruce laughs lightly, “We’re just here for breakfast. Nothing special.”
“Of course,” she replies, cheeks red. “Um, right this way! We’ve got a table by the windows for you. Just two, yeah?”
“Yup! Just two. Thought this was a good day to spend some time with Duke. He’s a great kid, you know, I’m glad I was given the opportunity to foster him.”
The sunny, cheerful Bruce Wayne persona is so different from the usual Bruce he works with that it feels like he’s standing next to a stranger. But his words are sincere and warm his heart, filling up the gaps that his soulmate has left. 
“Here you are!” their server announces, showing them to their table. “I’ll be right back with some menus.” She’s gone in a rush, and other customers glance over before quickly averting their gaze. 
It’s one of the unspoken rules of Gotham: give the Waynes their privacy while they’re out in public. Questions and conversation are for public events only, but if they see a Wayne out and about during a normal day, everyone leaves them be unless spoken to first. Duke used to follow those rules as well when he was just another Gothamite. It’s strange being on the other side of that now that he’s in with the Waynes.
Duke barely has to look through the menu when it’s handed to him. The breakfast plates are his favorites and he gets one every single time he comes to The Foodie Nook; stacked full with breakfast foods from around the world. As a kid, he loved the Mexico Plate, but these days he’s craving either the Brazilian Plate or the Vietnamese Plate.  
He can’t decide on which one and thinks about tossing a coin to decide, but seeing how that’s Two Face’s whole thing, he decides to hold off and settle the matter with eenie-meenie-minnie-mo. 
He gets the Vietnamese Plate.
Bruce, on the other hand, reads through the entire menu like it’s a novel, then leans over and says rather loudly, “Duke, what’s a tort-illa.” 
The pain he feels hearing that is only worsened by the amusement in Bruce’s eyes. He’s doing it on purpose, playing up the Brucie act for the public so he can psychologically torment Duke. A few nearby customers choke back laughter, turning away to hide their smiles. 
Duke shakes his head and says, “Don’t worry about it. It’s just food. Don’t ask any more questions, I just want a peaceful breakfast.”
“Well then,” Bruce replies, “I suppose I know what to order now.”
As if she was summoned, their server reappears before them, cheeks still looking a little flushed. “Hi! Ready to order?”
She writes down their orders quickly, valiantly keeping a straight face at Bruce’s mispronunciation of tortilla, then heads off to deliver their orders to the kitchen. 
Rather than draw out a conversation with Brucie Wayne, Duke settles for playing a few idle games on his phone; his current favorite is one quiet cat cafe game where he directs cats into fulfilling cafe orders. 
Bruce, despite being out in his civilian identity, is working. He’s on his Batman phone, which looks the same as his other cell phones except this one has a bat symbol sticker just barely hiding a Superman sticker on the phone case. His brow is slightly furrowed as he reads whatever file he’s accessing from the Batcomputer. It’s a little worrying but it could be anything. Bruce makes the same expression when he reads one of Tim’s snarky comments getting quoted in the news.
But that’s not Duke’s problem! He’s here to enjoy his breakfast and it will take the end of the world itself to remove him from his seat before he’s done eating.
The game takes most of his attention until their food comes out, and by then Bruce has tucked away the smallest of his Batman mannerisms. They enjoy a normal, peaceful breakfast. Bruce ends it by asking their server if she has any debt that’s weighing her down, then giving her a tip that’s at least five thousand dollars above that. 
She does cry and Bruce hugs her. It’s very sweet. 
As soon as they get back into the car, his easy going smile drops and Duke knows some superhero nonsense is about to take over his day. 
“Duke,” Bruce starts, seriously, “I received a message from Zatanna.”
“Don’t drag this out,” Duke says, “Just give it to me straight. What terrible thing is about to happen to us?”
“It’s nothing too big. They just recently defeated a magical being who had been tearing apart secret government facilities in Illinois. He had both magic and a high tech weapon, which they confiscated and are delivering to me. The government agency he was fighting was suspiciously interested in the weapon, and based on their behaviors and newly revealed work, Zatanna made the decision to turn the weapon over to us so it doesn’t fall into the wrong hands.”
Bruce smoothly merges into traffic as he speaks, getting them onto the road back to the manor. There’s a look in his eyes that means he’s keeping a lot unsaid, and Duke knows without a doubt that whatever this government agency was doing is bad if Zatanna needs Batman to act as extra security. 
He’s not sure about her decision to trust the weapon to be safe in Gotham, either. Sure, Batman will keep it as safe as he can, but with their luck, it’ll end up in the hands of a Rogue and lead to a lot of death and destruction. 
As soon as they cross the bridge and return to Bristol, Bruce steps on the gas and the car tears down the road. Without any other cars to worry about (or traffic laws), it takes barely two minutes to reach the manor, when the gates open for them and let them into the garage. 
Alfred waits for them by the door, looking them over with a critical eye. “I see you have managed to go outside, Master Bruce. What’s the special occasion?”
“Just breakfast,” Bruce answers. “I’m heading back down to the Batcave. Zatanna will be here soon to deliver a weapon.” He’s gone before Alfred can say anything more, hurrying down the hall and turning the corner, disappearing from sight as he heads towards his office. 
“I see we have yet to break that bad habit of his. Did you enjoy your morning out, Master Duke?”
“Sure did, Alfred. I’m, uh, also going down to the Batcave. He’s definitely not telling me a lot about what’s going on, so I’m just going to read about it over his shoulder. I’ll be back up for lunch, though!”
“And perhaps you’ll be able to drag Master Bruce away from that cave of his,” Alfred comments wryly as he walks with Duke towards the office. He gives Duke a nod, then splits away from him, returning to the kitchen where Duke can hear Damian speaking to someone, probably Tim by the annoyed tone of his voice, and mentally wishes Alfred luck in handling them.
Duke sets the correct time on the clock in Bruce’s office and heads down to the Batcave, taking the steps two at a time. 
Bruce is already at the Batcomputer, shoulders tensed, when he arrives. 
“More bad news?” he asks as he makes his way over.
Bruce doesn’t bother looking away from the screen as he says, “More details about the fight. It seems the magical being called himself a ghost and was going on a rampage due to a betrayal. He says they nearly killed his son.”
“Oh, yikes.”
“And two of the scientists working with the government agency said that he stole their son and is keeping them from saving him.”
“Yikes,” Duke says with more feeling.
He doesn’t get to hear anymore details about JLD’s fight with this ghost when he catches a flicker in the corner of his eye. Duke turns and stares at the empty space in the Batcave near the medbay and watches as colorful magic gathers and swirls in dizzing circles. The portal opens a moment later and Zatanna steps out, looking exhausted and lightly singed. 
“Batman,” she greets, holding a white gun that looks like it belongs in an early sci-fi movie from the 60s. “The GIW is trying to arrest us. Constantine keeps burning their badges and documents so it shouldn’t be a problem, but they are determined to get this back. I wouldn’t be surprised if they came after you next. They’ve got some way of tracking things, but I didn’t have time to get any details before I had to leave.”
Bruce takes the gun from her hands carefully, looking it over with a sharp gaze. “Why would a ghost want to use a gun?”
“I don’t know. He had a variety of powers, too.”
“What does this do?”
“Shoots ice. He never let it go and nearly burned me alive for taking it before we subdued him.”
“We’ll keep it locked up,” Bruce promises. 
Zatanna sighs. It looks as though a physical weight fell off her shoulders. “Thanks. I’m going to head back to stop Constantine from getting into a fistfight with the GIW agents.”
She opens another portal with a waved hand and a muttered spell. Bruce is already walking away to set the gun down on a work station, so Duke is the one to wave Zatanna goodbye. 
By the time he reaches Bruce’s side, the gun is already dismantled, all pieces neatly set aside. Sticky notes denote which pieces go together and in what order. It looks the same as most guns, save for the aesthetic, but the heart of it is a glowing blue orb, large enough to cover the entirety of Bruce’s palm, and it brings a chill to the air.
Duke stares at it and feels his soulmark burn ice cold.
“Duke?”
It’s in his hands. He doesn’t remember reaching out to take it, but it’s in his hands. He can’t take his eyes off of it, cradling it gently and bringing it closer to his chest. 
It’s the same blue his soulmark once was. Before his soulmate began to fade, before every day became a waiting game to see how long his soulmate will last before they die. 
This has something to do with his soulmate. He’s sure of it. 
He won’t let anyone take it from him. 
“Duke. Give that to me.”
He doesn’t feel like he’s in his body. He’s detached, floating somewhere outside his body, puppeteering his limbs, making them move without feeling the motion. Shadows condense around his feet and Bruce takes a step back, wary. 
“Duke,” he says again, but Duke can’t find any words, can’t draw on his voice, can’t even look away from the bright, bright blue of the orb. It pulses lightly in his hand like a heartbeat. 
Bruce reaches a hand out. 
He’s pulled back by shadows before he can get close, and Duke holds the orb against his chest, right against his heart, and feels the cold seep into him. 
“Duke. I need you to look at me.” This time, Bruce’s voice has Batman’s growl in it, a heavy command that he can’t help but instinctively follow. He looks up and meets Bruce’s eyes, but he can’t focus. All his awareness is in his hands and the heartbeat of the glowing orb.
“I have to protect this,” Duke manages to whisper. “I… I think it’s alive.”
“Okay. Let’s get you to the medbay so you can sit down. We’ll figure this out, Duke.”
Bruce slowly, carefully, sets his hand on Duke’s shoulder. He keeps his attention away from the orb, so Duke allows it and lets Bruce guide him to the medbay and onto one of the medical cots. Bruce leaves him after a minute of quiet fussing, muttering about calling Zatanna.
Whatever. None of that matters when the heartbeat of the orb grows stronger, steadier, and Duke feels it match the beat of his own heart.
Time slips away from him. Distantly, he hears people move around the cave, speaking in low tones. A hand presses against his shoulder, warm, then moves away. 
The orb in his hand moves. 
Duke blinks slowly, then claws his way back to awareness, pushing past the haze that’s fallen over his mind. The orb turns over in his hand, then cracks right down the middle. The glow grows stronger, washing the medbay in blue light and a symbol appears on the orb.
It’s his soulmark. 
Later, he won’t be able to say why he did it. There were no thoughts, no reasonings, no explanations. Duke simply moved on instinct and lifted the orb up to his face and pressed a soft kiss against it. 
One moment, the orb was still.
The next, it had burst in a flash of light that blinded everyone in the Batcave, and then a thin, injured teenager had fallen into Duke’s lap. 
Hands immediately grab him, pulling him away from Duke. The teenager puts up no fight, eyes barely open, but he reaches for Duke weakly. On his wrist is the bright blue snowflake, the color strong and vivid. 
“That’s me soulmate,” Duke whispers as he watches Bruce and Tim set the boy down on another medical cot. 
“What?” Tim says, turning to face Duke, concern clear on his face. 
“That’s my soulmate,” he repeats, louder. Then, panicked, he pulls up his shirt enough to see his own soulmark; the color is still dull, weak, barely there, but it’s more blue that it has been in a while. He doesn’t need to say anything. Tim sees the dullness of his soulmark, looks at the boy, and puts the pieces together on his own.
“I’ll call Doc Thompkins,” he says, already moving to fix everything. Bruce remains where he is, making sure the boy is tucked in and breathing steadily before he returns to Duke. 
“Are you alright?”
Duke swallows roughly, unable to tear his eyes away from the boy. He’s pale and thin, as if he’d been starved, and there’s frost beginning to spread on the bedsheet from his fingers. “He’s my soulmate,” Duke manages to say. “He’s been dying for two years.”
Bruce’s eyes a hard, a determined light in them. “We’ll save him,” he promises. 
If anyone can, it’s Batman. 
If anyone can, it’s them, Batman and the Signal, and their entire network of family and friends. 
Duke’s been waiting for his soulmate to die all this time. Now, he’s going to save him.
3K notes · View notes
poorly-drawn-mdzs · 7 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
"See you tomorrow"
MDZS Disco Elysium AU part 4 [prev parts]
#better drawn mdzs#MDZS Disco Elysium AU#mdzs au#Lan wangji#wei wuxian#yiling laozu#Happy Belated Halloween!#digital art#Thank you all for your patience as I drove myself into a madness only known by those lost at seas alone.#I put a lot of time into this one! It's not perfect but I am very happy with it + I am so happy to put down the tablet pen.#Digital art has some nice features but I'm sticking with traditional! I need a month to recover from the 2+ weeks of torture.#Okay lets talk about the AU and the comic now#Disco elysium has some of the best existential-horror-dream sequences I have ever seen.#The dialogue here is heavily inspired by The Final Dream - A scene I'd love to talk about more were it not so heavy with spoilers.#My AU is a lot more complex than a simple character swap but I really felt like LWJ + YLLZ fit this scene.#The final dream is about being unable to move on from a lost love. From something You made holy. From something You ruined.#It is about realizing that no matter how smart you are or what you offer or how you try to change -#You will never be able to turn back time. You will never ever be able to fix what is broken. That you also have been broken for a long time#You are a fuck-up who worships the nail covered ground of someone who did not want to be holy. And even though it hurts-#You cannot let this nightmare go. The pain keeps the love close. It is worse to forget. You promised to remember.#WWX died thinking LWJ disliked him. LWJ lost someone he thought was revolted by his love.
784 notes · View notes
tin-can-iron-man · 1 year
Text
I'm just gonna say it again real quick:
Yes!! Iron Man is a tragedy! It has and always has been since the very first appearance in 1963 which describes itself, Tony's life, and legacy, as such.
Tony causes most of his issues himself, he is his biggest villain, a majority of his rogues gallery are caricatures of the worst versions of himself brought to life (when they're not just being racist cuz...60s...). The worst thing about being Tony Stark is that he can't stop being Tony Stark (he tried!!) That is the point.
The majority of pain Tony goes through, is pain he inflicts on himself, whether intentionally or inadvertently. That is the point.
He is not A villain (at least. Not usually. There are...some rough moments and arcs that are. Not great. As there is with any character as old as he is). But he is his own main antagonist.
696 notes · View notes
uncanny-tranny · 10 months
Text
When we talk about recovery, I think we have to remember that recovery must be an option for everybody, but it is an option, which means that not everybody will choose it, or be ready to.
Forcing people to recover when they aren't willing or ready to is just often just as cruel as whatever you deem they must recover from. You cannot recover for another person.
I say this because forcing recovery onto people is most likely pushing them further from recovery. You might think you're doing what's good for them, and that is admirable, but we have to have a sense of realism about recovery. Anybody can recover, but that doesn't mean everybody will.
294 notes · View notes
landfilloftrash · 4 months
Note
I'm so glad I've found an artist who loves and draws ShinGou and also read "Turnabout Ennemies" (happy sounds) One of my favourite part with this two was when they took cover during Blaise's breakdown - I laughed so hard imagining their faces! XD
Welcome welcome!! Yes I love weird old man ships, they are incredibly important to me-- and "Turnabout Enemies" was indeed a ton of fun!!
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Silly old men fight to keep Miles safe; a segment from that very serious saga
69 notes · View notes
welcometogrouchland · 11 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Hello, another doodle compilation post of everything I haven't posted since the period of May to now that I didn't hate but didn't like enough to post on its own + fanart i made of @catboymoments's fankids Azura and Hyacinth! I'm not normally a fankid person but these guys are a whole moment unto themselves I love them sm. ID in alt text bc it was getting lengthy! Let me know if there's any issues
#the owl house#toh#luz noceda#willow park#gus porter#hunter toh#(he's there too! just very small. let me have this)#i had a lot of fun trying to figure out Hyacinth and Azura! they were unfamiliar so it was a challenge#hyacinth especially doesn't have a face I'd normally draw but i ended up really enjoying getting out of my comfort zone for him#i hope all the details translated well and that i interpreted aspects of their designs correctly?#i ended up accidentally giving Azura a slightly hooked nose bc i for some reason thought she had one? also struggled w/ her mouth a tad#but i decided to keep it in bc it made her face more unique lol. i already draw amity with a hooked nose so it kind of makes sense#you could say it's from alador though (which was also how i justified the way i drew her mouth since i normally draw Luz's differently-#-just imagine she got it from Camila)#also i recognize thst Hyacinth's cane arm is wonky?? really sorry about that! he was leaning on it a certain way in the ref photo#and i tried to replicate that but. eh#It's been a weird difficult time art wise recently#mainly cause of the hiatus I had to take cause of exams that I'm still recovering from.#Probably gonna end up taking another art/posting break (though we'll see how that all plays out??)#it's been a weird few weeks but not bad. I'm just kind of. trying to remain chill!#kinds wanna rewatch but I'm always afraid I'll overindulge and get sick of the shows i love 😭 but also the longer i go w/o rewatching#the more insane i become. like the joker#I've also been slightly back into comics recently and it sucks. i hate it here fr let me out#but yeah that's where we are rn at ladel studios. just chilling i think!#i like it. gonna see if i can cultivate it as a skill
344 notes · View notes
rosicheeks · 18 days
Text
Aka Riders Lullaby from Centaurworld
Lay your head on my chest so I can sing you a lullaby and gently run my fingers through your hair until you slowly drift off to sleep 🥰🫶
24 notes · View notes
gideonisms · 16 days
Text
I want to write I want to make girls be weird about each other in MY word docs I want to have creative projects and goals againn :/
41 notes · View notes
Text
Comte Election Story, 6th Anniversary Event (JPN 2023)
I managed to get Comte's collection story during the 6th year anniversary event in the JPN version of the game. As usual, my translation skills are rudimentary at best, so this is just a rough/general sense of the contents. Rest of the translation is below the cut:
Sweet and lovely, our everyday life is irreplaceable. After becoming a vampire, I’ve lived with him forever like this. I seek out more and more of the man I love than anyone else--
Comte: Good morning, MC. You’re up very early today.
I went down to the dining room a few hours before dawn--only to find Comte nursing a teacup gracefully at one end of the table.
MC: Good morning. I managed to wake up somehow…how about you?
Comte: Actually, I just got back.
When I asked, he told me that the host of the party started talking to him all night, and they didn’t part ways until after midnight.
Comte: I was going to finish this cup of tea to unwind, and then try to rest til noon.
He runs a hand through his freshly washed hair and brings the cup to his mouth in a series of elegant gestures that makes me fall in love with him all over again. I’m not sure if it’s because I’ve been up all night, but my heart readily starts beating faster.
Even Comte seems to notice my reaction…
Comte: …looking at me like that, are you seducing me?
Comte's eyes narrowed mischievously and he left his cup behind to approach me. A beautiful beast gazed at me as if to take aim at his prey, and he drew me in with supple hands.
MC: I didn’t intend it that way but…it’s true that I'm captivated. Your damp hair and lovely gestures are so sexy that I’m at a loss…
Comte: Saying such a thing…you’re a naughty woman, MC. Even though I tried to quell my ardor with a cold shower and hot tea...I’m glad to hear it, even though I’m far from calm.
When I raised my head--having looked down in bashful embarrassment--I can see burgeoning in Comte’s eyes an indisputable, feverish desire…
MC: Ah, mm…
His soft lips playfully brushed against the nape of my neck.
Comte: No one else would be awake at this hour…though we could be interrupted any moment. Make sure to keep your voice down.
He chuckled a little before a hot sigh caressed my skin, dropping kisses one after another. He circled around the usual place he’d sink his fangs into me, and every brush of his lips made heat gather low in my body…
MC: So impatient…Abel…
Comte: …I’ve been waiting for you to give it to me
The corners of his lips lifted a little, before he buried his fangs into my neck.
MC: Mn, ah…aaaahh…
Comte: I love you so much...and whenever we aren't together, I’m starved of you. We were miles apart all night yesterday. I’ll show you just how much I missed you.
His voice--half-intoxicated with the ecstasy of my blood--was sweet and husky with his desire.
Comte: Before you, I’m always a love-starved beast.
As I gaze into those eyes burning with emotion, an electric sensation tingles down my spine. 
(Ah, I’m just the same. It’s not only my heart, my body is always seeking you out too.)
MC: Me too…all day and night, I’m always thinking about you…
Comte: --Come here. Take as much of me as you want
At his encouragement and incitement, I sink my fangs into him.
MC: ah, ha…
Pleasure washes over me in an endless cascade, every sensation in my body heightened and sharp. I clenched my hands tighter through his wet hair, and dug my fangs into him greedily to devour that wellspring of ecstasy. 
Comte: I'm happy to be able to share love with you like this, as a vampire.
Like drops of water moistening desiccated earth, every crimson drop fills us to the brim--
#ikevamp#ikemen vampire#ikevamp saint germain#ikevamp comte#ikevamp mc#comte propaganda#if you can't already tell from the contents of this one--i straight up died after reading it#THE IMPLICATIONS. FOAMING AT THE MOUTH.#the way they're both dancing around it. MC trying to be strong and endure properly (girl same) and. comte.#THE WAY COMTE BASICALLY STARTS SHAKING HIS ASS LIKE ONE OF THOSE BIRDS OF PARADISE. I AM UNWELL (AND ECSTATIC).#THE WAY HE WANTS HER TO WANT HIM AS INTENSELY/DESPERATELY AS HE DOES HER. THE WAY HE RELISHES HER BITING HIM HARD.#IM NEVER GONNA RECOVER FROM THIS ONE#ive legit just been that ace attorney meme with phoenix holding his head in his hands for DAYS#dare i even mention 'make sure to keep your voice down.' SIR. SIR ARE YOU SRS RN#man the way in purple moon event he was like 'oh nooooo haha no hank pank in public where we might get caught that's too inappropriate~ owo#I SEE YOU ABEL. I SEE YOU MONSIEUR LE COMTE DE SAINT GERMAIN.#I SEE THAT U SIT UPON A THRONE OF L I E S#i hope whoever writes comte as unhinged as possible over at jpn cybird gets a god damn raise#i have never in my life been so directly catered to in one chara i swear#'loved-starved beast' ILL DO YOU ONE BETTER COMTE JUST LET ME IN. LET ME IIIIIIIIN!!!!!!#straight up ive said it before and ill say it again#that's my emotional support softcore yan meow meow golden retriever#every event im like 'hope this doesn't awaken anything inside me.' and then immediately its just 'failed step one.'#although all jokes aside i do find it endlessly fascinating about the purebloods how like#while they don't experience as much bloodlust there is this acute sense of biting as a vital expression of romantic interest and/or claim#i dont think its a throwaway line that comte says at the end--id actually argue a lot of his desire for intimacy when she's human (cont.)->#is because he feels a level of insecurity in his connection to her caused by the lack of shared/reciprocated biting#you know now that has me wondering if that's part of why other purebloods frown so heavily upon the idea of a pureblood/human couple#basically because they can't fulfill the most basic tenet of what it means to be coupled in that community's perception#yeesh ikevamp really went 'welcome to normative vampire politics' and im like 'I Am So Normal About This. (lie + analyzes)'
84 notes · View notes
mettywiththenotes · 10 months
Text
Tumblr media
THE OBI SKETCH TRANSLATION FOR VOLUME 25
(Source)
92 notes · View notes
jacksoldsideblog · 6 months
Text
truly nothing more depressing than seeing a blog glorifying self harm in the fight club tag in an unironic way and you click through to see its an anorexic 14 year old :/ i wish i could communicate like... it doesn't make you cool or better, it's not an actual way to control things in your life, i am so so sorry you think this is the sexy answer. but also jesus why do you blog about it
31 notes · View notes
not-poignant · 6 months
Note
Hello! I read some of your reposts about importance of comments and that any can be usefull to self evaluation as author. My question - is it weird and uncomfortable if people bring too many personal problems commenting your fics? Like, do you distant yourself out from comments that bring a lot of person's drama, does it feel uplifting in the end, if comment is a lot about reader's not so happy history? Can you still feel joy from that kind of comment?Thanks for unswer if you do.Have a nice day!
Hi anon,
So, this is kind of complex. I would say the vast majority of people don't overshare at all, and when they are sharing from their lives, it's in a way that makes complete sense and is very 'contained.' I can tell they're not expecting emotional labour from me, and that they're sharing because they found a point of resonance between themselves, the story, the situation, or the character/s, or a combination of all of the above.
And like, that's a part of why I write, y'know? I want to strike up that sense of resonance in folks who relate to these characters, so when people share that it has resonated, that's like... purposeful and meaningful to me. I feel like I've made a connection. I also sometimes feel sorrowful - like when someone explains they relate to Efnisien because of abuse they've also experienced, or when someone explains that they relate to a character's chronic illness because of their own.
But I can also generally tell through tone and language that the commenter doesn't expect labour from me, they're speaking their pain into the world in a way that's like 'this is me, and here's this character, and we both share this thing in common.' In a perfect world, none of us would know what this kind of pain is like. In this world, a lot of us do, and we get to feel less alone when we read stories where we feel seen.
And that is, by and large, the general experience when readers share something personal that they resonated with in a comment.
That being said, I do also maintain very strong boundaries with people's personal matters, because I'm not someone who's 'healed and above all my own issues who is sharing what I've learned to people still going through it' I am someone who is still going through it. And often folks have no idea what kind of day I'm having or how I'm feeling when they comment, and so... on the very very rare occasion I do get a comment that feels like it's pushing for some kind of emotional labour that's beyond what I can give... I will not give that labour. I will acknowledge their comment, thank them for reading, and not...give energy I don't have to spare.
And like, honestly, 99 times out of 100, everyone is very respectful of that and even caring towards it.
I can probably count on like two hands, in ten years, the commenters who I felt had become very self-focused or what I felt was over-sharing in comments in a way that sort of...was no longer about me or the story, where they just treated the comment section as a diary instead. In those cases I tend to leave very brief acknowledgements, as a kind of 'I see this, I know this is painful, but this is not my lane, and I don't want this to be my lane.' But a more compassionate version of that.
If anything, the most personal stories, anon, come to me in Asks that are sent via Tumblr, off anonymous, so I can reply privately. These folks are usually very...aware that I might not be in the space to hear them, and are frankly the most 'if you don't have time or energy to reply please don't pressure yourself', so I feel no burden or obligation and that usually makes it easier to reply in my own time.
The ones that come to me via anon, I only reply to selectively, and that depends on a few factors. Some things are extremely personal and frankly I'm not comfortable replying because even if I did it would be to say 'I think a professional needs to handle this.' I've also - very rarely - had a few people do things that were not cool, to manipulate me into caretaking them, usually because they want the comfort feeling that one of my characters creates, and then from there thinks 'Pia made that character so they can give that to me instead.' This doesn't happen often, but it's very distinct when it does.
But that's rare! Super rare!
It might be that others read the comments of folks in fics and think 'I would never share those kinds of details about my life like that' and that's fine for them - but some folks do need to share, and want to feel seen because they felt seen during the fic, and I have no problems with that in general.
I have learned so so much about the human condition, about the fact that things that I thought literally no one would relate to are things that actually a lot of people relate to, etc. through the grace and vulnerability of the folks who comment on my fics with personal anecdotes or even just 'I've been through something like this, and I thought you showed it well / it's a painful thing to go through.'
I know a lot of authors wouldn't have much patience with that maybe? I don't know. I'm literally writing trauma recovery, mental illness and chronic illness, queerness and neurodivergence, and people going through tough times. I don't think an author ends up writing that stuff if they're generally not looking to make a connection with fellow folks who have also gone through some tough times! And even if I can't be those people's support systems, I think all of us having these ephemeral moments of effectively saying: 'Same bro' through the comments, is pretty powerful, and magical, actually.
Caveat: If a person brings personal problems into my fics with the expectation that I will then fix them, that's something I don't really do and don't enter into. That's where my boundaries are firm. Sometimes I won't even acknowledge those kinds of situations at all. If a person reads something for free and then seeks to obligate a complete stranger into being their support or therapist, there's a much bigger issue going on there that isn't my business, and I generally will maintain significant distance in those situations.
TL;DR - I don't think I'd write these stories if I didn't want to make connections with folks who have also gone through some hard times. The vast majority of people who bring up personal stuff aren't necessarily bringing me 'joy' - but I don't just look for joy in the comments, anon, I also look for connection, resonance, moments of feeling less alone, and sometimes that's not easy, but it's still very special. As for the very rare occasions where someone wants me to personally hold their hand, I step back, because a) that's not my job, and b) I don't think folks realise sometimes just how much proverbial hand-holding I need as well lol - I might sound like I have my shit together, but I do not.
23 notes · View notes
moeblob · 11 months
Text
Hello! I'm here with ~another~ text post!
I unfortunately had assumed "ah yes, The Anxiety" has been my problem recently but in fact, no. It was The Depression! (or a combo, super likely!) Due to this, I will be taking a brief mental break from posting art here. The break may be three days, might be a week. Truly a mystery even to me.
I will be drawing daily so when I return I should have multiple pictures to show off which I will separate in posts by fandom. Drawing really helps calm me down unless I get to the point where it feels like a performance obligation which it currently feels like.
I appreciate your patience and I hope to be okay enough to be back soon.
(also, my ask box on this blog has been disabled until I return)
61 notes · View notes
chuuyafucks · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
This is one of those skk pics that really makes me question everything like asagiri knew what he was doing with this. If I didnt know what bsd was I would legit think this was some kind of slow build of two characters from a yaoi.
76 notes · View notes