her smug look. her lidded eyes. she's looking off to the side, at who? the fact that she's the only character to be partially outlined in color rather than black. her messy hair that seems to have reverted back to her pre-future design? her low as hell pants. square ass. sorry i needed to make a post just for lapis
also garnet :)
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yall after dickriding ciel so hard
you bitches are bootlickers
ABUSE IS NOT MADE WITH CONSENT
lookey there's a definition take a minor glance at it
"to hurt or injure by maltratment; ill-use."
"to force sexual activity on; rape or molest"
"Abuse is an action that intentionally causes harm or injures another person. This can refer to physical abuse, psychological abuse, mental abuse, or child abuse (see below)."
"Abuse means a departure from legal or reasonable use, misuse. For example “abuse of law.” It could also mean physical or mental maltreatment which results in mental, emotional, sexual or physical injury. For example child abuse, elder abuse, spousal abuse and animal abuse."
CIEL IS A ABUSER BY LAW. AND BY DEFINITION ABUSE ISN'T CONSENTUAL
STOP DICKRIDING AND WAKE THE FUCK UP.
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the smell of tea wafted in the air. familiar and comforting, like the glittering gold filtering through the vitrage.
meirin sat up on a bed far too big for herself and rubbed her eyes. her muscles ached, and her head felt heavy but also clear at the same time — the clearest it had been for the past few days, in fact.
“how are you feeling, tiánxīn?”
a name sat at the tip of her tongue, and the syllable rolled off her tongue as smooth as warm osmanthus tea sliding down her throat.
“zhongli…? when did you get back?”
she rubbed her eyes sleepily and felt the gloveless hand on her cheek; the wedding ring engraved with the countless manmade lines embodying the countless lifetimes spent together pressing against her skin.
“just yesterday. how are you feeling?”
she tilted her head at the insistence in her husband’s steady voice, and decided to try and humor him a little, lighten the creases in his eyebrows, “like i just woke up from a nightmare. it’s been a rough few days, but i feel a lot better now…”
“good.”
a forehead kiss and an affectionate stroke of thumb on her cheek later, she watched her husband stand up to pour her a glass of water from the bedside table. it was then she noticed the state of the bedroom - every surfaces cleaned and every objects put back neatly, unlike what she remembered last time she—
“wait, what happened to m—?”
“hush, dear. for now, let’s just say it was all a long nightmare,” he sighed wistfully as he handed her the glass of water and a medicine pill, “please, rest your mind and take this for now. i will tell you everything in due time.”
“….. okay,” meirin sipped on her water, and obediently gulped down the capsule, knowing how stubborn he could be sometimes, “…. thank you, still. whatever it was, i know you saved me somehow.”
“it was a collective effort,” zhongli’s eyes soften, molten ambers mirroring the gentle rays of the morning sun, “and there is no need to thank me. though i may be retired, i don’t plan on infringing any contracts i made…. and certainly not our sacred contract.”
the woman averted her eyes shyly, opting to stare at the glassful of water within her hands, receiving an amused chuckle from the ex-archon.
“i’ll fetch you your breakfast. with your favorite osmanthus tea to go with it, perhaps?”
“oh, and tiánxīn?”
“hmmm?”
“i think we should include ‘narwhals’ in the ‘not allowed’ sign.”
“…… ah?”
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Funny thing: the episode “we need to talk” made me so sad that I stopped watching SU because of a wave of painful emotions. After a week I realised that was because of my pre-period stuff when I get extremely sensitive. Now I continue watching, huh.
P.s. My whole brain is covered with Jasper/Lapis shipping and their trust issues, I think I need to write a post about this lol
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Ok, this is a scene in the first act of @enigmacatinspace ‘s fic, Of Spiders and Music (a Phantom of the Opera au, Miguel/Peter/MJ fic).
Excerpt that inspired the art (MJ and Miguel talking):
Her smile turned mischievous as she plucked the single rose from her vanity, untied the navy blue ribbon, and used it to tie the end of her braid.
The voice behind the mirror gave a ‘humph’. “Mujer descarada”
“You’re the one who sent it to me. I’m only enjoying my gift.”
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@fcrgottn
"I don't like your kind of adventures."
"Says the walking distraction who has never been on one."
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