Obsessing over the new ingirida / nobokai possibilities in pokemas after the pla update because oh my goddddddddd
Just. Irida hanging out with the twins for a few days in Pasio, getting to spend time with them and even become friends, and realizing that this really is Ingo, but it's not her Ingo, at least not yet. But she doesn't really have any way of knowing what to do about this, and she can't stick around long enough to figure it out. She has to go back.
Irida very seriously taking Ingo's hands in hers and looking up at him and telling him that if he ever finds himself at a loss somewhere and with nowhere to go, come to the pearl clan. Come find her. She'll help him, she swears it.
Ingo finds it a little odd, but she says it so sadly (plus there's a cute girl holding his hands dbkxjske) and so sincerely that he can't really bring himself to ask about it. Ingo nods and tells her yes, ok, he promises he'll come find her someday, they'll see each other again.
And Irida looking as though she might cry as she stands in front of the rift, telling Emmet to please, please, take good care of Ingo, spend lots of time with him... Treasure all of it, don't take it for granted, ok?
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The silliest thing I’ve come up with is that if ever con!cala goes to the DSMP server she would have the power to fucking shapeshift and I think it would be hilarious since she’s all about costumes and XD comes down from the heavens and is just “hey you know what would even be better? If you just changed how you look at will.” And Cala would definitely use it to fuck with people
Only problem is that it changes her look entirely but not her eye color so she has to make sure no one looks too hard at her fuckin eyes
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me? drawing doodles again when I just did a month ago? this hadn't happened in at least four years but here we go, added a piece of creative writing too (it's not exactly fan fiction ig and maybe a mix of poetry? who knows I just wrote it)
[cw panic attack]
[local fictional friend helps self shipper get through second panic attack in the week]
"I could barely breathe. The chair has stayed broken since before I came here. Slightly unstable, its decoration torn to shreds on the corners and letting you see the fake wood of its insides.
I could barely breathe. The space under my bed is becoming darker but at least I know you hide your feet there. And the fact feels comforting, as if the littlest bit of your presence was enough to put me back into reality again. Maybe it is.
I could barely breathe. My legs are up so I don't feel like fainting with the first tear. Still in my slipper boots, our hair down. The same summer pyjamas, the very same house.
But I can breathe now, just at the dawn of night. Your warm hand is on mine as I hear your promises. The desert is our neighbour and maybe we belong somewhere else. You and I. In a day when days will make sense."
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Valice Calendar: If It Wasn't Official Before Then, It Sure Was Official Then
Wondering what I'm talking about? Well, we've reached one of the last couple of dates to celebrate on my Valice( r) Calendar -- specifically, this is the first mention I could find of one of my Alice muses for LJ RP calling one of my Victor muses her "boyfriend." The context for this one was that I was doing a personal "88 Advent" fic-a-thon for my LJ of stories of 88 words in the days leading up to Christmas, and the fic for that day was a meta one featuring one of my Marty muses encountering my new Alice muse (who was intended for "Beyond The Rift," the game I mentioned back on the "thinking of fanfic" day) having just made gingerbread. And being suspicious of said gingerbread as she'd made it under the tutelage of Ms. Plum from Corpse Bride. XD At any rate, this is what I wrote immediately under the fic:
Yes, this is FuturePossibleRift!Alice, who insists on hanging around my head.
-Alice: Well, my boyfriend's here!-
-Rift!Victor: pleased blush-
So yeah -- I was definitely shipping it beforehand, but this was probably the final nail in the coffin of me ever trying to get free of this ship again. Victor was Alice's boyfriend, and that was that. And it's been that ever since. :) Really glad I never convinced myself this was a horrible ship -- it's been a real source of joy in my life over the past fifteen years. And I'm glad so many of you seem to enjoy it as well. Here's hoping for many more. :)
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@ashortdropandasuddenstop
Dance with the Devil at Farsang
There was something oddly but extremely satisfying upon witnessing the raw shock mixed with outrage when diplomats, merchants from other countries, empires visited to reestablish trade connections upon hearing the raging war has quietened. No one expected to be face to face with the terror of a woman who robbed them tons of riches (and later they learned she funded her revolution with them) not bound in chains but sitting on the throne of Hungary with the lethal grace of a jungle cat. Predatory eyes accompanied by a sharp smirk dancing in the corner of her lips when recognition set in; widening into a grin upon the grim realization that now she was even more untouchable. Not like anyone could ever catch her on the sea, nor in her own land.
The Brits might just be her favorite to torment. Mostly because they were so pleased with their colonies and failed to pay attention to most of the political changes in Europe, unless it involved either the Spanish or the French. Oh their surprise, fury, panic was a joy to witness and be the cause of just by her mere presence. The now independent Kingdom of Hungary happened to be one of the largest grain exports with almost endless plains, the transport route relatively short and a lot safer than importing from one of their precious colonies only to have it stolen on the way to the mainland. What a shame would it be, even though she was no longer...in the business of making empires miserable. Well, not as an outlaw anyways.
Selling it a higher price was a combination of her amusement, knowledge how badly they needed it and her country was still being rebuilt from the three year revolutionary war. With the deal arranged, a thin eyebrow arched in graceful mockery at the openly murderous glares thrown in her direction.
What kind of queen would Rozália be if she didn't insist them to stay till Sunday when she was about to hold her first official Farsang of her reign? Colorful costumes, decorated masks mouthwatering food, lively dances, traditions and music throughout day and night; both her and her nation needed this celebration, for nobles and foreign visitors held in the Buda Castle with a stunning view to the Danube.
The day arrived soon and the Queen was more than prepared...only that she wasn't present at the feast, instead Marcell, her ex first mate now captain of the castle guards excused that her costume is taking too long to apply.
Rozália could barely contain her electric excitement. Emerald eyes glowed even brighter after the careful lining with black, a few adjustments, the most notable being her hair chopped off by the same trustworthy damascus steel sabers. Ferenc was already grinning like a lunatic upon noticing, even the always worried Marcell couldn't suppress a small amused smile in the depths of his beard.
The curtains were semi see through, the music quietened as the silhouette of the Queen seemingly glided close. Still obscured by the veil like curtain, only the size of her dress and hairdo could be seen, until an another figure steadily approached from behind and with one motion severed the head, causing many horrified gasps, shrieks at the unexpected assassination-
The curtains parted, the head of the mannequin rolled down the steps ansand music upon Sándor's signal picking up a heated rhythm as the Hungarian Devil sauntered into view. Full pirate captain getup from coat to hat with the fiery feather, signature sabers twirled in her grip with utmost ease, each movement dripping, oozing with pride.
Cheers, gasps of surprise and outrage followed her grand entrance, those who were part of her once crew could barely hold their laughter at the display, some of the clueless nobility was delighted at her bold choice, while the remaining...they knew.
There was more sway in her steps than back in the days but not less grace, stealing the dance partner of some Duke with ease; a quick twirl and she dipped the woman while kicking the Duke into his chair, effectively seating him.
"B-but Your Highness-" the noblewoman in her hold stammered at the bold dip
“Call me Captain.” came the almost sultry purr of her gritty alto before releasing the flushed woman back to a chair, although more gently than she did with her previous dance partner
"The Queen is such a great actor! Don't you think Admiral?" The young and beautiful lady in a bejeweled mask resembling to a peacock currently accompanying the Admiral fluttered her long lashes at her companion, not quite understanding why the British delegation's mood became even more gloomy. Which she didn't know was even possible.
Meanwhile the storm of the woman continued her rampage, reveling in the attention, the scandal; currently dancing on top of the main table and miraculously evading all plates, occasionally stealing a bite with her sword.
“Oh but is there any hero in shining wig to save the noble class from such battle hardened criminal?” Rozália declared dramatically; it has been too long since she had a real duel. Too long her thirst left unquenched by swordsmen not even near her level nor experience.
Technically, it was an open challenge yet her blazing eyes never left the Admiral's, her lips slowly revealing the monstrous fangs; just like in the old days she longed for a dance. The glow of emerald seemed to burn brighter with each spin of the curved blades briefly crossing in front of her face as she waited for the rise to her scandalous taunt.
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🌟 — Tall figure looms behind, estimating, waiting for a moment. Like feline, ready to strike a mouse. Claws flex, extending forwards, ready to take a firm grasp of the back of his red scarf, like a scruff, in hopes to pull him up to her eye level.
Should he notice the threatening presence in time to evade, the gunslinger would remain on her spot, fidgeting with one of the twin pistols. No way she was going to chase a rookie - wouldn’t suit a sharpshooter.
However, the stare of the three pink hues could impale even in distance.
“ Y O U... You are not one of my fools. ”
“ ...but a one little troublemaker... ” || @salemshooter
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