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shady-tavern · 1 year

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A Hero’s Return

Continuation of this little short story. No particular warnings, but let me know if I should tag something.

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'Ready when you are.'

It felt as though the message was burning a hole into your pocket as you stared at your hero costume. Freshly laundered, repaired perfectly after your fight with that telekinetic villain and just as practical and flashy as before. It shouldn’t be scary.

Your hands weren’t trembling when you put it on, but it was a near thing. It helped to know that Silver was waiting on the other side, not a floating terror ready and willing to kill. If you failed, no civilians would get hurt or killed. You would not die knowing you had been utterly useless, or wake up miraculously to find hundreds of people dead because you hadn’t been strong enough.

You had grown stronger, you knew you had. Enough so, in fact, that the hero association had recently bumped you up to Class B. Which was a little frightening, you had never played in the upper leagues before and while you knew you were part of the bottom crowd of Class B, it was still very different to your comfortable, quiet little Class C.

You took a few deep breaths after buckling the last of your gear in place and you stared at the mirror, realizing that the costume didn’t fit like it used to. You had gained muscle and a bit of weight and…it didn’t look right anymore. The colors seemed too bright, the little fluttery accents you had once added to the design on a whim too useless.

You took another deep breath and turned away from the mirror. Now was not the time to get into an existential crisis over your costume. You could always order a new one from the association later. You grabbed your phone, staring at the most recent message for a long moment, your heart pounding nervously.

'Ready when you are.'

You could hear Silver’s voice in your mind as you read those words, could see his reassuring smile, the kindness in his mercury eyes that didn’t quite manage to hide patient anticipation. He was looking forward to this, you knew. He had been there every step of the way, as you had dragged yourself out of the hole your failure and terror had shoved you into.

You didn’t feel ready to be a hero again, but you had decided that it didn’t matter. You would never feel ready. You could run those obstacle courses and simulations Silver built a hundred thousand times and not feel ready.

'Ready' you typed back and hit send before you could stop yourself.

The hero association already knew you would return to active duty today. The substitute hero had left the city last night, looking relieved. His stay here had been exceptionally boring, since Silver had refused to challenge him in any way. Aside from bugging him a bit for fun, but his pranks were always harmless.

You flexed your hands and for a moment you felt all the scar tissue pull tight, stitched up wounds and surgery scars and broken bones that had taken months to heal. You weren’t ready, but you were sick and tired of sitting around at home.

You were sick and tired of being scared, of worrying. Of thinking about the next Class A villain that could show up with murder on their mind. You wanted to be a hero, still, even now. You wanted to protect people and help them where you could. You straightened your shoulders and walked forward, projecting a confidence you did not feel.

It was showtime.

*.*.*.*

You watched civilians cackle in delight as they were pelted with marshmallow butts the size of half your palm. Silver was bouncing a bit on his toes at your side, grinning so wide it must’ve hurt his cheeks.

"Well?" he said with a grin. "Aren’t you going to try and stop me? Oh no, darling, dashing hero!" He pretended to fall into a faint, hand theatrically pressed against his forehead.

He tipped over with thoughtless trust, knowing you’d be there to catch him. And you did, hands pressed against his signature leather jacket as he draped himself over your arms with exaggerated drama. He continued, "Whatever shall I do, my evil soul quivers!"

You couldn’t help but laugh, tension you hadn’t been aware of sliding off your shoulders like water off a duck’s back. When you caught your breath again, looking down, Silver had the softest smile on his face, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He looked far too sweet for someone proclaiming he had an evil soul.

He straightened from his pretend fainting after a moment and tugged his jacket properly back into place.

"Good first day back?" he asked quietly, barely audible over the huffing and puffing noise of his Ass Kicker 50, it’s wheel of used but thoroughly cleaned and disinfected boots merrily pelting butts into the growing crowd.

"Yeah," you answered just as quietly. "Glad to see me again?"

"Of course, darling." His soft smile got a mischievous edge as it grew into a smirk. "But you must be losing your edge, you haven’t even disabled my baby yet."

You couldn’t help but smirk back, tapping a piece of plating. "Dead switch is beneath this thing, isn’t it?"

He looked startled, then cursed and grumbled, actually looking like he had no idea if he was frustrated or delighted and instead settled on a weird mix of both. "I was hiding it so well! How the fuck did you know?"

You gave him a small shrug. "It’s the only place that works and from the way the thing’s set up and built, it had to be in this area to avoid messing with the machinery. And it’s the only plating that’s not bolted down. Pressure opens it, right?"

You pressed down experimentally on one side and the plate popped open easily enough, swinging aside to reveal the big red button. Because of course it was a big red button. That was so very Silver.

When you looked up, his mercury eyes were bright and intense and that elated-frustrated look was still on his face. "And you once asked me why I fight you," he said, his quiet voice carrying a particular tone that you couldn’t quite place. It made you feel faintly flustered, though.

You fiddled with the plate for a moment, before closing it again. "Yeah, well, I’m just glad I’m not boring."

Silver drew up to his full height, actually looking affronted. "Boring? How dare you?"

The smile tugging at your face felt far too earnest and touched by half, but it seemed to soothe his insulted affront.

"I’ll have a conversation with whoever put that thought into your head," he said, pointing a finger at you. "And if it was you yourself, we are going to have a long talk."

Hearing a round of loud, delighted noise from the side, both of you looked over to see a group of goth teens cackling as they pocked little holes between the cheeks of their marshmallows butts.

"Ah, I knew I had forgotten something," Silver muttered and you dissolved into helpless laughter, ending up leaning against his shoulder and gasping for air.

By the time you calmed down, you were out of breath, your belly aching in the best of ways and you reached up to wipe some moisture away. Silver looked very content and happy, standing there and watching the machine pelt away, people jumping to catch the butts wrapped in paper to keep things sanitary. So they could be picked up and still eaten if they fell to the floor.

He was always so thoughtful, you thought, still leaning against him and not moving away. You had no idea what he got out of being a villain - well, aside from tax fraud, a bunch of other illegal activities and some very, very strange substances you were not going to touch, ever - but you were happy to see him happy. He deserved it.

"They needed that too," Silver said in this moment, nodding at the crowd. "This city hasn’t quite been the same since that villain attacked. They’re relieved to have you back and seeing us fight harmlessly should put more demons to rest."

You hadn’t even thought about that, too caught up in your own trauma as you had been. You looked back at the people and you saw that he was right. There was a visceral relief on many faces, a giddiness that was born half out of the silliness of the situation and half out of a release of fear-filled tension.

They had been even more helpless than you had been. Civilians with no combat abilities and absolutely no chance to survive the Class A villain. All they had been able to do was run while they had to watch you bleed and break and still stand up again and again.

Oh.

A quiet realization struck you down to your core. You had wondered why people had been polite but not overly warm with the substitute hero. He had sent you regular updates on villain activity and how his patrols had gone, even if it had taken you a while before you had gotten the guts to read it all instead of only the summary.

He had mentioned that people didn’t seem all that curious about him and he had sulked about that a bit.

All this time you had thought that you had failed them, these people who grinned and waved when they saw you. Who didn’t hesitate to call you away from the street and ask for help or offer you sweets or lunch when you had been patrolling for hours. People who let you hold their babies or hugged you when you brought their lost pets back.

But they hadn’t seen a failure that day months ago. They had seen you, standing between them and certain death and refusing to give up, no matter what. All because you wanted to protect them with all you had.

"Hey, what’s wrong?" Silver’s worried voice cut into your thoughts and when you glanced at him, his brows were furrowed. "Why are you crying? Do you need me to switch off my baby and back up?"

"I’m fine," you croaked weakly, though you totally were tearing up. "I’m just glad to be back, don’t read too much into it."

Silver’s face softened with a quiet bit of relief and he hummed in understanding. "I’m glad, too, by the way," he said after a moment. "To have you back that is. I may have been a wee bit lonely."

You raised an eyebrow, glad that no tears had spilled over. "You saw me almost every day."

"But not like this," Silver said. "Don’t get me wrong, I love watching you destroy the machines of the obstacle course or absolutely ace the simulations, but I missed going up against you like this."

You rubbed the back of your neck, straightening from your slouch against him. "You always say things like that with a straight face." You both admired him for it and felt envious. Sometimes you wished you could just simply say what was on your mind as well.

Silver smiled, a little lopsided and crooked. "Life’s short, so who cares what others think," he said. "All I care about is living every day the best I can."

You knew what he meant by that. He had told you a bit more about his fight against Terra after modifying some more simulations for you. You had even seen a glimpse of the patchwork of scars that fight had left on him, many of them surgery scars. He had barely survived his debut as a villain. His ever first fight and it had been against Terra.

"You know, I wanted to make the butts bigger," he said before you could say anything, smoothly but obviously changing the topic. "But there was only so much I could fit into Ass Kicker 50 and that just wouldn’t do."

"Are you going to run out of butts soon?" you wondered.

Silver hummed thoughtfully. "I guess there is a minute of pelting left at most."

The two of you waited until the machine stuttered and began to slow, the wheel of boots no longer finding marshmallows to kick into the crowd. Silver gestured grandly for you to go ahead and you pressed the dead switch with a small smile.

"Well then." He clapped his hands together. "I guess I should say hello to my favorite warden. He is ever so happy to see me every time."

You couldn’t help but snort, then you hesitated. "You know, you could just…go."

Silver actually looked a little insulted. "Don’t ruin my date with prison, my dear." He beckoned you closer with a finger, presenting his hands. "I want to see if I can walk out the front door dressed like a futuristic clown."

You blinked, in the middle of pulling out your cuffs. "What would that look like?"

He smirked as you reached out towards him. "I guess you’ll have to find out." He leaned in as your hands closed the cuffs around his wrists, warm skin pressed to warm skin and cold metal between. "I’ll make sure to make the news for you."

"Alright," you said, bemused and curious in equal measure. You noticed how warm he was, this close to you, your hands covering his. His breath smelled faintly of peppermint. "Come on, there are two new officers on the roaster who are eager to prove you can’t slip past them."

His face lit up. "Oooh, fun." He chuckled, low and menacing and for once sounding like the villain he was. "I do love ruining their day. Shattered dreams taste ever so delicious."

You rolled your eyes fondly, waving the waiting police over. They hurriedly hid the marshmallow butts they were snacking on and bustled over, trying to look important and menacing. Even if Silver was a very polite and very wonderful villain, he was still wanted for a number of crimes and the state really wanted to prosecute him.

"Be gentle with Ass Kicker 50," you told the clean-up crew who came in to tow the machine away to a storage facility. "She’s done good service."

When you looked back over to Silver, you caught the warm, unbearably fond smile as he watched you on his way to the police car. He cast you a wink as he got in, mouthing, 'Clown'. You playfully wrinkled your nose at him and saw more than heard him laugh as the door was closed.

"Um." A soft, hesitant voice made you look over and you immediately recognized the girl who had approached you. The teenager who had nearly died at your side months ago. "I’m very happy you’re back and that you made a full recovery." She thrust out a small gift. "Thank you, for saving my life."

"And mine." One of her friends bustled over, holding a little wrapped gift as well. "If not for you, I wouldn’t have made it."

You felt speechless, accepting the gifts hesitantly and that seemed to open the floodgates. You were swiftly surrounded by people thanking you and expressing their concern and relief in equal measure. Your arms soon overflowed with gifts, flowers from the elderly, drawn pictures from children and baked cookies from grateful parents. It nearly made you cry.

You did cry a little when you got home, sniffling as you sat in a pile of gifts, reading letters and smiling at the graceless but enthusiastic scribbles of a five year old. Suzie was curled up in your lap, fast asleep as a small bundle of warmth.

You taped all the pictures to one wall and pinned the letters to an old, large pinboard you had gotten a few years ago. You put the food away and the flowers into a vase and scattered the rest of the gifts across your flat in a smattering of decorations.

It had mattered. Ever single moment you had felt helpless and terrified had mattered. You hadn’t been a footnote on some document, lamenting a too early death. Because of you, so many futures still existed, those bright, burning lives not snuffed out by a cruel hand.

You would continue growing stronger for them all, you vowed to yourself. Even if you needed Silver to end the fight and save you again, you would be there. Standing between evil and everyone else as many times as it took.

For the first time in months, you felt like a hero again, too.

You dozed off with the news channel on and jerked awake sometime in the early morning hours just in time to blearily watch a repeated clip of Silver, dressed as a sparkly, futuristic clown, moonwalk dancing out of prison. There it was, his famous, Class A skill of getting out of trouble in the most ridiculous ways.

You were chuckling softly to yourself, reaching out to fish your phone from your coffee table. You already had a message waiting for you.

'Watch me, darling.'

You were still half asleep when you answered, a golden feeling like honey on warm bread filling your chest, 'Always.'

You hesitated, then tapped out one more message, 'If you have any more inventions, I’m ready.'

He answered immediately. 'Oh, darling.' It read and you could hear the glee in his voice in your mind, could imagine the way he brightened. 'I was hoping you’d say that.'

You loved this ridiculous, wonderful man so much, you thought, still bleary and half asleep. Your heart felt so full with good things it felt as though it was spilling over to the point where you had to squeeze a pillow, hiding a wide grin against it.

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dustykneed · 2 months

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hey psst. Stop scrolling ensign the triumvirate has some affirmations for you!

bonus:

ok you can keep scrolling now. But they think you did a very good job! And they want to remind you that you are loved, and deserve to be loved, and that you are, and have always been, enough.

(live long and prosper out there everyone! remember that they are so very proud of you for being here🩵💙💛)

next affirmations post here

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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 1 year

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Do you think Wei wuxian listens to weezer?

I don't know...I don't know...I really don't know.....

#poorly drawn mdzs #mdzs #wei wuxian #lan sizhui #blood #I mean this in the most sincerest way possible: This ask has become my 'does bruno mars is gay' to me and anyone in close enough proximity #I first read this after having just woken up and it rattled me so intensely #would he???? I don't know??? It's dad music but it also sort of works for someone a little bit out of step with time?#I'm a bit of a wwx kinnie and I love music but I don't really have any headcanons for what modern music he'd like #other than 'unironically classical music and its one of the first things he bonds with lwj over as teens'#(they get into very heated arguments about composers and arrangements)#but also. the concept of wwx really liking wheezer to the point its the first thing he's gotta check in on after 13 years dead?#*that* did me in real good #I hope people enjoy this one as much as I did #'Does wwx listen to wheezer' Please oh god wheezer and mdzs fans please come together to tell me what songs wwx would like #my money is on 'lost in the woods' its so campy #EDIT: just been informed weezer doesnt have an H in it..this is how much i know. thank u everyone who left weezer recs in comments and tags

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brightyistired · 8 months

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*Wink*

Disclaimer: I am not an animator, I had no idea what I was doing, this was just for a little bit of fun on procreate :)

#charles leclerc #f1 #formula 1 #cl16 #f1 fanart #ferrari #gif #brighty draws #my art #rip quality i shoulve expected it to get butchered but alas #this has like 5 individual frames and i was already over it i cannot imagine how people animate whole ass movies #animators deserve the world omg #i tried to do shading but that made this go from a fun little thing to active torture #anyway hope someone enjoys my silly little gif of charlie boy

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crescentfool · 22 days

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having the hc that minato is ace is incredibly funny sometimes when you think about how ryoji is oh so very bi because it's like. "ah. death stole my ability to be attracted to people," in the same way that ryoji stole minato's eye color and energy level. like wow, thanks ryoji, you just keep finding things to steal from minato!

#persona 3 spoilers #minato arisato #hc and au nonsense #lizzy speaks #happy international asexuality day to my fellow aces out there i hope you know that you are loved!!! 🎊🎉🥳#i like viewing minato with the lens of him being gay / ace. esp bc it stems from my own experiences so it's fun to look at-#him from that perspective even if that's not what was intended by atlus y'know?#and im sure others have other hcs from me that are informed by their own life experiences and i think that's great ^_^#something that i found interesting while playing FES was how. stilted? minato's animations felt when hugging the girls #you could definitely go with the perspective that it's a graphical limitation or they didn't have time to polish the animations #and that's def true!! but sometimes i see the hug @ yakushima beach + the other hugs and then i compare it to the sou/yo hug in p4 #and there's like... a noticeable difference to me with how intimate and close together the hugs are...#that said i do know that the animations for reload are updated and the hugs are much more natural (good on them tbh!)#the other thing is (pensive sigh). the way you couldn't reject any of the girls when doing their social links in FES #objectively speaking i'm glad that they did away with that and i like how the rejections were handled in reload. it feels naturally written #but also a part of me enjoyed looking at the “hey atlus what the FUCK” moment and thought of how to interpret it differently #specifically with the idea of minato having like.. little to no autonomy and kind of going along with the relationship #it kind of reminded me of myself tbh with like going along with the rship without considering what you want bc #it's what others want or expect out of you... LOL. i dont think atlus intended for someone to interpret it this way but #eh i think that's the fun part of hcs and looking at characters with certain lenses!#regardless of how you perceive minato i do think there's something to be said about him being the kind of guy who molds himself-#into someone that is needed. not wanted. but needed. important distinction here.#the one caveat my brain runs into when im like “minato is ace!” is when i remember thanatos exists and i go #“you know what these ideas can exist simultaneously” GKLHFHDFHD when in doubt schrodinger's headcanons #anyway that's all i've had this thought in my brain in awhile and haven't sat down to share it properly until now 👍#have an excellent weekend everyone !!! lizzy loves you all lets all nurture our inner yippee!!! 🥺💙

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baalzebufo · 1 year

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'I don't know what you're-a trying to say…' Peppino sighed, exasperated. He went to turn away, when-

'Pe-Pino.'

The voice… it was his voice, but the cadence was just slightly off. An imperfect mimicry, but close enough that it immediately fired every panic neuron in his brain at once.

---

A little piece of writing to nail down the vibes im going for with my interpretation of Fake Peppino! Having a normal fun day in the kitchen where nothing uncomfortable or weird happens.

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'Pe- pi- no.'

Peppino tried not to flinch when he felt the heavy wet hand on his shoulder and the voice gurgling in his ear. Deep breaths- okay. He inhaled sharply and grit his teeth, bracing himself before he turned around.

It hadn't been easy, getting used to… that thing. Fake Peppino, as he had been calling it in his head. But he did feel admittedly a little guilty for destroying the tower- its home, really- and it didn't ask to be made like that. Still, he wished it hadn't decided to stick around sometimes. He'd spent an entire week just trying to make sure it didn't attack him on sight! And even then, it STILL chased him from time to time...

But he had reached an uneasy accord with his doppelganger, or at least thought so. He seemed more sedate at any rate, and Peppino had even managed to talk it into helping in the kitchen- which is where he was now, spreading a ball of dough thin with his knuckles, before he was so rudely interrupted.

He turned and forced a smile, trying to cover up his nerves with fake confidence. Ghh- he never got used to seeing him. His fake looked like him, but… uncanny. Stretched. Something wearing the wrong size of his skin. It made a weird bubbling noise- Peppino had come to learn that was its 'excited sound'- and grasped his wrist to tug him to the other side of the kitchen.

'Okay, o-kay! Slow down- whats-a the rush, paisano? What do you want to-a show me?'

Peppino tugged his wrist free and returned his hands to their comfortable position, tugging nervously on his tank top. Fake Peppino had dragged him over to the pizza oven. It was a great brick thing- a traditional piece and easily the most expensive thing in the whole restaurant, but also something he would never sell. After all, what kind of a pizza chef would he be without his pizza oven?

His clone straightened up then, drawing an involuntary shiver out of Peppino. It looked at him. Peppino looked back. He briefly made eye contact, watching as the fake's right eye slowly dribbled down his face- he glanced away before it started to make his heart pound any louder.

'Ah… what? What is it?' He mumbled again, shrivelling a little under the unyielding gaze. He may have been his clone, but they apparently didn't copy the part of him that hated prolonged eye contact, ugh. He chanced another look. His double was looking at him almost expectantly.

Suddenly, he raised an arm- quick enough to make Peppino flinch. But he didn't strike. He simply pointed- one finger poking Peppino in the chest. Then he moved his hand to point at the oven, the heat of which was beginning to make even more sweat bead on his forehead.

'I don't know what you're-a trying to say…' Peppino sighed, exasperated. He went to turn away, when-

'Pe-Pino.'

The voice… it was his voice, but the cadence was just slightly off. An imperfect mimicry, but close enough that it immediately fired every panic neuron in his brain at once.

'Peppinos. Pi- Za.' The fake nodded, looking pleased- then slapped one hand down on Peppino’s head, crushing his chefs hat down and drawing a yelp of surprise out of him.

'Peppino. Pi-zza.' The words sounded smoother as he rolled them around his mouth, smiling wide enough that his teeth looked as if they were about to drip out of his lips. He pushed Peppino a little closer to the oven- his heels dug into the ground instinctively. The heat was oppressive... 'Peppi-no. Pizza.'

Peppino froze. He had learnt not to run- bolting only excited his fake. He stood stock still, even as its face slowly lowered to his. His eyes widened- there wasn't anywhere else to look but into his own distorted visage, the oven's heat only causing it to drip more. Oh, god, it was dripping everywhere…

His hands balled into fists, ready to react, but his body seemed stuck. Damn his freeze instinct-! He held his breath as his fake tilted his head curiously, and then laughed. A bubbling gurgle, face practically split in two.

'Pizza. is. Peppi-no.' He said, happily. Peppino couldn't bring himself to figure out what exactly that meant, because the only idea he had right now- well, the heat wasn't helping, and his vision was blurring, and it wasn't good…

'Peppino. Pizza. Nothing. Compares!'

All of a sudden, he was pushed back. Away from the heat, a cold blast of air hitting him as the doppelganger shoved him. All at once Peppino’s body reacted, scrambling back along the floor and breathing- wheezing, really- trying to get enough air in his lungs so he didn't pass out. All the while he watched as the wax figure of himself dripped like a candle in the heat, spun on its heel happily and giggled.

'Not- yet!' It smiled, face still firmly turned to look at Peppino even as its entire body twisted 180 degrees to stick to the nearest wall- his neck creaked with the strain, more of its doughy flesh sloughing off onto the floor as he moved away from the heat.

'Cook.' It's hand found one of the open vents- it's favorite hiding spots. 'Let him. Cook. Not ready!' It smiled, eyelids squeezing shut happily over misshapen sockets, tongue lolling out the side of its mouth.

'Later? Pizza later. Nothing Compares...' He mumbled, voice softening as Peppino could only watch in wide-eyed terror as it folded itself in half to slide into the narrow vent- he'd seen it many times but he still wasn't used to it. The wet sounds of a body moving in ways it shouldn't, the scrape of the metal... As it pushed itself into the darkness, Peppino saw its face- his face- the last thing to disappear.

'Peppino. Pizza...? Soon...'

And then it was gone.

He didn't move.

Honestly, he stayed on the floor for an uncomfortably long time.

After what felt like hours, his body finally decided to return the feeling to his joints- and all at once he scrambled upright. What- what was that? He thought…

He thought he was reaching… some kind of agreement with that thing. But clearly it was still far, far beyond his understanding. And what it said- no. No, Peppino shook his head violently. He didn't want to think about it. Because if he thought about it, it sounded an awful lot like...

No. No, no, no. That was silly. He just needed to get back to work. He needed to push this out of his mind and forget it ever happened.

He stumbled over towards his pile of pizza dough. Looking down at it, he couldn't help but feel… uneasy, suddenly. A wave of strange nausea rose in his chest.

Maybe… maybe that was enough pizza for one day.

#pizza tower #peppino spaghetti #fake peppino #set post-game where fake peppy wouldnt leave the pizzeria so peppino just has to deal with him now #haha! im sure thats fine peppino! dont worry about letting your guard down around him again!#do i even have a writing tag? i dont remember #BUT UM... HEE HEE.. hope someone else enjoys this little thing. i felt inspired #i want to write him being Creepy more ok i love having fake peppino make Implications

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tianhai03 · 2 years

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guys wake up new C coloring pic just dropped <333 have some teefs i drew awhile ago that i probably never posted here

#this was a banger drawing and C made it so much cooler with the paint splatter ty for the addition #also it makes me happy to hear you like how i draw nero bc. i dont know how to draw him actually ahsdghkajd hes very hard to draw #anyway. sparda chompers supremacy. these boys have sharp teeth and they WILL bite someone with them #devil may cry #dante(dmc)#vergil(dmc)#nero(dmc)#fan's colorings #everything from here on out is directed at C bc i have no other ways to talk to them so you guys can stop reading here <3 #hey C! i actually didnt see what your first submission was bc i didnt even receive it lmao #but i just want to say that you dont have to worry about anything; what i said the other day wasnt directed at you at all #i do enjoy the little stories you have whenever your submit things; they seem to be pretty personal stories and i appreciate that you trust #me enough to tell me about them.#if you'd feel better not sharing any more that's fine! i'm never going to mention anything in them anywhere regardless #i'll just keep posting your colorings as usual for everyone to see and appreciate :)#hope you have a great day C! and thanks again for always coloring my stuff!#allyart

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no-light-left-on · 6 months

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Jessamine's design has always intrigued me. the stark, full black suit and tall collar are pretty obvious status symbols. black was for the longest time an incredibly expensive colour of fabric due to how difficult it was to achieve proper rich blackness during the dyeing process and the collar, while most likely just a trend in Dunwall fashion inspired by the 1890s high collars can be read as lace, especially in some concept art, which is hard to care for and needs to be starched to hell and back to keep nice and stiff for a collar like that

but what I find a lot more curious about this is that the clothes appear very much inspired by Spanish renaissance fashion

which, honestly, would make sense with the real world inspiration. 19th century was obsessed with the past, with the romanticized medieval and renaissance times, and it was quite common to see fashion inspired by times long past (I mean, just look at Worth. the man invented haute couture and there is so much influence of medieval and Elisabethan fashion in his designs). it was also a thing for rich families to just kinda... invest in recreations of historical pieces of clothing and LARP in them.

Jessamine's clothes, in particular, reminded me of Spanish court dresses. especially of the portraits of Anne of Austria and Elisabeth of Valois

obsessed with those slit sleeves. too bad Jessamine didn't go the extra mile to have the sleeves hang long and heavy around her arms but they were more form fitting

there is also something to be said about the tall white (possibly starched lace) collar and the style of clasps used on her clothes

the mini cape thing she has on top is more similar to the style of capes worn by men in renaissance, but yeah, of course she reminded me of a Spanish princess when this is one of the most given example portraits for this style

I wonder if this was an intentional choice on the designer's side or if they were just inspired by the revivalism present in 19th century fashion. what really makes me consider that though is that one of her earlier designs has those sleeves much, Much more pronounced and obvious

oh the things that could have been...

still, it makes me wonder: if this was intentional, what does this tell us about Jessamine, and the history of the Isles themselves?

#dh #dishonored #jessamine kaldwin #fashion history posting #I am not normal about this gown #me and sin even had an au where her and corvo are part of a fashion history reenactment group #still I wonder. does she just like the style? or is she just a little insane about fashion history like I am?#bias admission I spent two years working on a comic that had its entire aesthetic based around renaissance and its 19th century revival #so I might be seeing things where there are none #either way you are welcome Ive been meaning to make this post for Months at this point #we dont know if artificial black dye was already a thing at the time of DH1 #another curious thing though!#since this is before silvergraphs were invented Jessamine wouldve been painted in a Particularly Nice Outfit #like if youre gonna pay someone to paint you youre gonna pose in your best garb #and its the same fit she wore to welcome corvo back which means she dressed up nice for him #which I find really fucking cute #anyways heres my insane ramblings I hope you enjoyed

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starflungwaddledee · 3 months

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been working on answering a prompt i received in an ask the other day, and so i'm back thinking about... the Thing... 💖🎀 and thought maybe prompt doodles might help me work through this a little?

so uhhh.... if by any wild chance anyone has any ship suggestions for starstruck...??? feel free to send them through!

#this is *only* for starstruck and is not general requests! i'm just trying to figure out how i feel about this 😳#obviously no guarantees that i will be confident enough to draw any of these or that i'll enjoy them all but i just... am considering it?#idk idk idk is this stupid....#hope i won't regret this or won't get genuinely weirdass things.#just to be transparent this is sfw exclusively tho implied flirting is a-okay. please don't be weird....? i'm trusting folks to be nice!!#i would also happily take little prompts if you have thoughts about how it would work or whichever! like if you're a character Understander #if you have an idea how it would Work or what it might Be Like that would also help me to get a concept on how i feel about it!!#also i would.. consider ocs (only from their creator) if you... wanna??? character+artist *must* be an adult. starstruck is in her early 30 #also with ocs preferably from folks who i've at least interacted with before and like.. not just bc u want art ;;;#like... do u geniunely think they could have a cute dynamic? i'm just wondering if she could be Cute w someone. AUUghhGHHHH #again no promises and also for now i need this all done on the assumption it's just for fun!! just funsies. i'm just... thinking i guess!#want to try and figure out what it might be like if she WAS involved in a little ship/romo space...? as a treat? auughghhggghGHGLLG #also fair warning i may just get super embarrassed/nervous about this all and delete!! but i'm.. yknow. trying!#also i figure you can kind of tell my faves and who i hardly know much about. might not have lots of feelings about most side chars!#delete later #probably #wheeeeeEEEEeeahahahah okay;;; just post it. just post it starflung. just do it. hit the button hit the button hit the b

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mishapen-dear · 22 days

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genuine question but is there any fandom where a character is well written by the majority. im thinking about fandom culture and the spread of frustration when people dont write characters well but. honestly in all the fandoms ive been in there's only like, a Select number of authors who i trust to write Well, let alone write Well AND In Character. character analysis and writing and getting inside characters' heads are all separate skills (all of which are trained by roleplaying fyi can CONFIRM playing pretend with your friends is good for you). there's been more than once where I've disagreed with an interpretation that others agreed with, and then I turned out wrong. or i turned out right. like it doesnt matter WHO is right it just matters that differences in character analysis exist, so even if you DO write well AND write in character, your in character is still going to be someone else's out of character

there's this sort of. vibe. that to play in the sandbox you Need to be able to make a castle, and if you can't make a castle then you shouldn't bother, and it completely dismisses the idea that youre in that sandbox to PLAY in the first place. there's this Weight of disappointing someone if you can't build something that they like, but that forgets that you aren't there to build them a castle. like, be KIND. if you disagree with someone then please make an effort to do so kindly. i dont give a shit about fandom discourse but there is a reason kids get removed from sandboxes if they keep throwing sand in people's eyes. but if they don't like your misshapen sand pile, then youre not obligated to change it. even if you yourself end up hating that same sand pile later- youre not building a legacy. youre playing. and sometimes the result of that play is out of character drivel. theres a reason there are so many authors and so few who i like to consistently read and thats because everyone is Fucking Around in their hobby space. hash tag brag or whatever but i can build castles. ive built several that im v proud of. ive also dug holes in the sand for fun and then tripped on them when trying to get up. I often dug a hole and then got up and fucking- whoops, its a castle now, and i didn't realize i'd made something to be proud of until after the fact. the whole time while creating shit i was Convinced it was bullshit that didn't make sense. and then other times i was Convinced it was bullshit and then i was Right and i can look back and go. huh. ew. but it doesn't matter what the end result was, because i had fun playing in the sandbox

this wasn't meant to turn into a ramble but i have Feelings about bad art and art that's badly perceived and how public perception can screw with your head and how making art youre proud of is fucking. it's so difficult!!! it's hard!! it's really fun, which is why i try to make it, but i promise you it is Okay to not tryhard creativity. even if you CAN, it's okay not to do it all the time. or ever, even. fuck around find out have fun etc

#NOT a discourse post i am musing out loud #there's discourse goign around the dash rn or i wouldnt mention it #but the past few weeks ive seen a lot of “DONT fucking mischaracterize my guy my fuckign god”#which is one of the most frustrating pet peeve there is #but i think a lot too about little baby me #fresh on her writing journey #and how discouraged i would be if someone pointed out the mistakes id made #i made a Lot of fuckups #and i also think about this one fic where one of the characters was INCREDIBLY out of character #me today would not be able to stomach reading it #but baby me was so ENCHANTED #and it introduced to me the concept that you dont always know the reason someone does something #and it made me read even more #and because of that i eventually found Expert Skill level fics #which introduced me to MANY little tricks and fidgets ive tried to implement #there were so so many reviews on that fic that called it shit or complained about the bad characterization #but a decade later i still think about it #there were several very corny mine/craft horror fics i read #which back in the day would be called cringe #and those were what inspired me to write my first horror fic and now im Enchanted by the whole genre #theres a lot of stuff i dont like to read but i like that other people are enjoying themselves #i dont know how to be succinct i hope my point is coming across well #this ties into my thing where fiction is for you first others later #here are my credentials: bb/h fan since before the elections (hi i was the guy who noticed his lack of armour post elections)#and a cross-fandom comment trend of people going 'woa i can see this happening in canon'#im not talking out my ass i genuinely think its more important to have fun than to write accurate characterization #which. is a more 'duh' and clarifying thing than everything else ive written #but ah well c'est la vie #also also just realized this could be interpreted like that- NOT an attack on people who complain about mischaracterization either lmao #i do that too w friends. this is to reassure people who put pressure on themselves to create things Well all the time

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shingekinomyfeelings · 1 year

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Shh (nsfw, mdni)

A Reiner x reader drabble. You might be a little shy about being overheard, but Reiner sure isn't.

warnings: explicit dialog, dirty talk, Reiner being a lil shit, afab reader. Characters are cadets in this story, but aged up to 19.

notes: this is definitely the filthiest thing I’ve ever written and maybe ever will write, sooooo feel free to pretend you didn’t see it

not beta read

I’ve literally never written any form of dirty talk before so I’m sorry if this is the worst thing ever

reposted here

#reiner #reiner braun #reiner smut #reiner braun smut #reiner x reader #I feel like I'm gonna have a crisis as soon as I post this lmfao #it's like ripping off a bandaid right #I'm exaggerating a little but this is so fucking weird for me to share with anyone #I literally don't even know if I write this kind of thing well #or if it's full on cringey #I hope someone enjoys it nonetheless

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mel-loly · 1 year

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-“Just a flower, in the middle of the field at night, a light is turned on and reveals.. A day arriving with confident hope and silent happiness!”🌹🐝

#for those who didn't get it.. today is my birthday! and so tomorrow is really the day of the party and etc..#that's why I put “arriving” because tomorrow is a really special and very important event in my life akzbskhzjsb #and yes. I'm cosplaying as princess bela. she's one of my favorite characters and her dress.. It's literally a dream come true for me!#because I'm really going to use one similar to this one tomorrow irl and-#I won't tell you guys more details because it's personal things but- well. that's a little explain of what the art is about!#I really feel very happy.. and I admit. I don't even know how to explain my happiness but.. well...#I feel special. surrounded by people who *really* love me and show true affection for me and..#that I just have to thank. for everything. I have gratitude for all of you! like- thank you very much. really. for everything..#I can't even express in words how grateful I am for each of you #know that I love and appreciate everyone who is still with me on this journey called life!#and of course- I couldn't forget to talk about him lol. thanks to mike!#I don't know what would have become of me if I hadn't met someone as friendly and good-hearted as him #he was always by my side and made me feel more special in every day. in a unique way and one of the most important to me..#I love him very much/p. and I hope that our friendship will be forever happy and respectful the way it already is!#(of course. this also works for the other friends I made here too- please don't get mad or jealous! I love you all. okay??)#and well.. that's it.#I hope I still stay here. that I enjoy my day and face any fear or harm that I might have ahead of me and..#that I just hope for the best. I put everything in God's hands and I feel confident that things will work out no matter what the cost!#thank you guys again for everything and happy birthday to me lol-💛#happy birthday to me #it's my birthday #mel creator #mel loly #cosplaying of beauty and the beast #i'm mel and this is my blog✌️#my art blog #art mel #art #my art #my oc character

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brzatto · 8 months

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i remember distinctly at some point i promised myself i would finish blue chicago moon before my birthday (lmfao) and now it is my birthday .. and unfortunately it’s been weeks since i’ve touched a google doc in general much less that fic but to celebrate i’m posting an excerpt from a later part in the fic i’ve had written out for a while now. enjoy ^_^

They’re laying in bed together, after, the way that’s become more casual as of late, more natural; they take turns taking drags from the same cigarette.

Carmy’s telling some story, “And then Pete—”

Richie interrupts him with an exaggerated scoff, rolling his eyes, and Carmy smacks him on the shoulder with the back of his hand. “I know, I know, stop it—but Pete’s not bad. Really. He can be cool, sometimes, like actually cool—”

Richie groans, rolling away from Carmy, except the bed’s too small for him to go anywhere, so he really just turns onto his other side—Carmy rolls after him, propping himself onto his elbows so he can wrestle Richie onto his back, stubbornly crossing his arms over Richie’s chest and leaning his weight onto him to keep him there; he reaches over to crush the rest of the cigarette into the ashtray. “I’m serious, Pete’s not that bad, and maybe if you’d actually give him a chance or opened up to him a bit more Sugar wouldn’t hate you as much—”

“Oh, so now it’s my fault that Sugar hates me? When have I ever given a shit about what she thinks?” Richie gripes, and Carmy rolls his eyes.

“She doesn’t actually, you know. You just have a tendency of being a complete and utter piece of shit—”

“What, is she still fuckin’ mad at me for that one time—”

“You mean when you said women shouldn’t run for office,” Carmy interrupts him flatly.

“That was a fucking joke! And it was, like, twelve years ago! I love women in office! I fuckin’ voted for Hillary in 2016—” he ignores when Carmy snorts in his face, incredulous, “—and maybe if she actually had a sense of humor sometimes she wouldn’t have ended up marrying that goddamn fucking narc. Has the personality of fuckin’ wet tissue paper. You know how many times he’s tried inviting me over for a fuckin’ family barbecue or some shit like that? Like I’m the one who actually needs an invitation. Probably just trying to trick me into making friendship bracelets with him while watching Paw Patrol or some other fuckin’ propaganda—”

Richie’s rant continues, and it’s so ridiculous that Carmy can’t help the genuine laughter that bubbles out of him at the mental image of it, ducking his face into his arms to hide his smile; except Richie’s caught on and started laughing, too, chest rumbling beneath Carmy’s weight, and it honestly surprises him, how at ease he feels. Naked under the covers, lying on top of Richie of all people, and he’s actually laughing.

Carmy doesn’t really use the word happy to describe how he feels because he thinks it’s too loaded, too precarious, too complex. He doesn’t want to say he’s happy because the notion is difficult for him to pinpoint, and even when he does it usually doesn’t last too long anyways—but he feels… light. All of his usual heaviness absent for once. He feels good.

When he brings his face back up he finds Richie already looking at him, focused on his face, the trace of a smile still present in the curve of his lips, and Carmy can’t tell what the emotion in his eyes is but it looks a little bit like—marvel. It’s the same way Marcus looks at the pages he’d printed out of Carmy’s cookbook, carefully and lovingly taped onto the wall of his station, the fascination of discovering something new, of resonating with it; and Carmy doesn’t know what to do with that.

But then Richie’s eyes fall a bit, fixing themselves on a specific part of his face—Richie’s hand comes up to cup it, nothing unusual by now, but Carmy’s overcome by the warmth he still feels in his chest at the touch, this simple intimacy. Richie’s palm is familiar and calloused around his cheek, and it makes Carmy want to lean into it.

“What’s this from?” Richie murmurs questioningly, running the pad of his thumb gently down the skin of his cheek, just below his right eye, and it takes a moment for Carmy to realize he’s talking about his scar. “Fall into a barbecue again?”

Carmy huffs, half amused. “No. No, uh… it’s stupid. Happened while I was drunk, years ago. Back in New York, when I first left.”

Richie raises his eyebrows at that. “What, you actually got into a fuckin’ fight? I mean, sounds dope, but having a sick ass battle scar on your face isn’t really in character for you, no offense.”

Carmy rolls his eyes. “No, it wasn’t a fight—I… was drinking, and it was kind of just something I did, in the very beginning, I guess. In my downtime, by myself in my apartment because it wasn’t like I had any friends or anything better to do, and it was just supposed to be a way to keep myself occupied. Get me to fall asleep faster, if anything, so I wouldn’t fucking lie awake in bed all night thinking about shit. Except that time it backfired on me, because I got—” Carmy breathes out through his nose, an almost amused, self-deprecating laugh, “So drunk, and all I could think about was—Mikey.

“And I was just so fucking upset. I felt hurt, you know. Had been hurt for the whole past year, and I’d deleted Mikey’s number off my phone months ago so I wouldn’t do anything monumentally fucking stupid like call him while I was drunk or something. And I think I was just… fed up, at that point. I was so fuckin’ angry, at Mikey, at myself, at everyone that I just… kind of had this meltdown. Nearly trashed my whole fuckin’ apartment. Was breaking shit, throwing shit around, and when it was over I found myself in my bathroom, staring at myself in the mirror for the longest time. And I hated what I saw, because it didn’t feel like me. I never felt like myself back then. Didn’t know who I was supposed to be without Mikey and Sugar and everybody else around, and I hated that about me.

“And eventually all I could think about was—” Carmy cuts himself off, thinking about the words. How to say them. “How much I needed… a change. How much I wanted to. But I think I took that a little too literally, or maybe I just wasn’t fucking thinking at all, because I just… slammed my face into the mirror, as hard as I could. Like I was in a fuckin’ movie or something, you know. And there was all this fuckin’ glass, blood everywhere, my face totally fucked, all that shit. It was a mess. I could barely fucking see.”

Richie watches him recount the story with quiet intensity, and even though Carmy doesn’t look back at him he can feel Richie’s eyes on his face, gaze intent. But it doesn’t make him feel uncomfortable, or awkward, or exposed, the way having someone’s undivided attention usually makes him feel. In the moment, he simply just feels listened to. Richie’s watching him, but Carmy doesn’t feel watched; just seen.

“So what happened after? Just bled out all over your fuckin’ floor?”

Carmy huffs. “No, I, uh… had to take myself to the hospital. It was, like, three in the morning. Got four stitches out of it, and still showed up to work the next day.”

He’s expecting Richie to make fun of him, honestly. And why wouldn’t he? He thinks it might just be because of the good mood he’s in, but Carmy’s surprised to find that he doesn’t feel any residual bitterness recalling the memory. Thinks if he were anybody else he’d laugh at himself, too.

Richie doesn’t make fun of him, though. “That might actually be the most hardcore shit you’ve ever told me.” Richie sniffs. “Almost as hardcore as walking off a stab wound, anyways. You’re getting there.”

Carmy actually laughs, the memory of it amusing now that it’s all behind him. It seems fucking ridiculous, looking back on it now. It’s only been a few months, but it feels like a lifetime ago; when he tries to think about it now, he feels like a spectator of his own life, watching the events unfold from someone else's perspective, or like standing from the outside and looking in. He gets that feeling a lot, Carmy thinks.

“You know, I never actually asked you about that. Were you good? Like, was the wound deep, or…”

“Gee, thanks for the concern. Not like it happened, like, six fuckin’ months ago. Glad to know I mean so much to you.”

“Shut up and just tell me. And you probably really did fucking deserve it.”

Richie scoffs. “Couldn’t fucking tell you. Hurt like a goddamn bitch when it happened, though. Got Ebra to patch me up. Couldn’t sit right for a couple weeks, but it was whatever.” He sniffs. “At least it was somewhere people don’t see it. Not sure if that’ll make for a cool scar story in the future.”

“What, like mine was?”

“Nah, yours is just depressing. Do me a favor—next time somebody asks, just tell them you got it in a bar fight like a normal person.” Richie says, and then after a pause, “That why you don’t drink?”

It’s this question that finally makes Carmy feel embarrassed for some reason, glancing up at the ceiling. “Something like that.”

“Damn. And I thought Mikey was the one who was fucked up.”

Carmy laughs a little again, in spite of everything, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, well. Guess it runs through the fuckin’ family.”

“They call you guys the Bears for a reason,” Richie says simply. But he still has his hand on Carmy’s face, running his thumb over his scar absentmindedly, like trying to soothe away pain that hasn’t been there for years. It’s a subtle sort of intimacy, quiet and tender. It’s Richie’s touch and not the recollection that makes Carmy’s chest prickle, and he wonders briefly if this is something he ever did with Mikey: lying in the dark, listening to each others’ stories, touching without thinking about it.

He wonders if this is how Richie treats those he cares the most about, or maybe if he’s just gotten close enough to be able to experience this side of him. If this is what it’s like to be Richie’s best friend, to trust someone wholeheartedly, sharing moments that are quiet and intimate and vulnerable.

“Alright,” Richie continues, making Carmy glance up. “Your turn.”

Carmy looks at him quizzically. “My turn for what?”

“Ask me something. Nothing off limits, everything on the table. You shared something about yourself so it’s only natural for me to do the same.”

Carmy frowns a little at this, if only because the notion is strange to him. It’s not like he’s never been open and honest with Richie before—in fact, those moments have been occurring more often than he’d honestly like to admit—but it feels different, this way. To be given the opportunity, no holds barred, because usually Carmy refrains from ever prying too deep; not just with Richie, but with everybody.

He rolls off Richie’s chest back onto the bed, lying on his side with his head propped in his hand as he considers. Richie is surprisingly patient for once, offering him the silence to think, and the whole thing honestly just makes Carmy flustered.

“Is there…” Carmy starts uncertainly, hesitating, but continues when Richie turns to him, expectant. “Is there a reason why you keep your ring?”

Richie stares at him for a moment, uncomprehending, before glancing down at the golden wedding band on his finger, like he’d forgotten that it was there, like he didn’t even know he was wearing it. Then his expression twists, incredulous, like he can’t believe that out of all the things Carmy could’ve possibly asked him about it’s his goddamn wedding ring.

“Why, does it make you jealous or something?” Richie teases him. “Does it make you feel like you’re my mistress?”

Carmy’s face turns hot, but he tells himself it’s out of annoyance rather than embarrassment. “You know what? Forget I asked.”

Richie chuckles, running his knuckles over Carmy’s side placatingly. “Nah, nah, I’m kidding. Uh… if I’m being honest, it’s, like, a distraction. Something for me to worry with. I stopped wearing it after me and Tiff split, but I started wearing it again after Mikey. I dunno. I guess after he died it felt like… nothing was right. Just everything gone to complete shit, and the ring just felt familiar. Like, having it there reminded me of this time in my life where I kind of, sort of had things together, and I guess I just wanted to feel that way again somehow, even if in reality it’s the complete fuckin’ opposite.”

Carmy nods slowly. In a sense, he thinks he gets it. Clinging onto that sense of familiarity; needing the illusion of stability in his life. He understands him.

#this is also to celebrate the blue moon on the 30th!!! that felt way too coincidental :/#btw sorry if the formatting makes it hard to read i wanted to condense it since it is a bit of a longer excerpt #some of my personal hcs coming to light here… i wrote this way wayyy before s2 came out and it’s still subject to some inevitable tweaking #as i continue to write and edit and piece things together. but this was inspired by a jaw interview where he talks about the scar on his #face. i just thought it was so in character for carmy so i toyed with the idea a little bit to make it fit into his life #this also happens much muuuch later in the fic… i’d post something closer to where i left off in ch2 but as of right now!#it is not written. <3 #anyways i hope at least someone can enjoy this.. thanks for all of your patience mwah #my txt #carmy x richie #carmrich

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