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#when i open my eyes
blueboyluca · 10 months
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“When I first heard it, from a dog trainer who knew her behavioral science, it was a stunning moment. I remember where I was standing, what block of Brooklyn’s streets. It was like holding a piece of polished obsidian in the hand, feeling its weight and irreducibility. And its fathomless blackness. Punishment is reinforcing to the punisher. Of course. It fit the science, and it also fit the hidden memories stored in a deeply buried, rusty lockbox inside me. The people who walked down the street arbitrarily compressing their dogs’ tracheas, to which the poor beasts could only submit in uncomprehending misery; the parents who slapped their crying toddlers for the crime of being tired or hungry: These were not aberrantly malevolent villains. They were not doing what they did because they thought it was right, or even because it worked very well. They were simply caught in the same feedback loop in which all behavior is made. Their spasms of delivering small torments relieved their frustration and gave the impression of momentum toward a solution. Most potently, it immediately stopped the behavior. No matter that the effect probably won’t last: the reinforcer—the silence or the cessation of the annoyance—was exquisitely timed. Now. Boy does that feel good.”
— Melissa Holbrook Pierson, The Secret History of Kindness (2015)
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puppyeared · 8 months
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learned something about myself lately
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luxaofhesperides · 2 months
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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.
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suntails · 26 days
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dance of dreams
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astrolavas · 8 months
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my art style is too simple for this but just know that when i draw post-ttt hunter, in my mind he has central pink-brown heterochromia. like this, kinda:
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ringneckedpheasant · 1 year
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I need you at the dimming of the day
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aye-of-newt · 6 months
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he's wearing this when he rolls up to the final boss fight to annihilate fowler’s pasty ginger ass and win full custody of mizu
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ratpower1 · 1 year
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happy new year
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ryllen · 1 month
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Look what came through the mail today! The letters & ( •̀ω•́ )σ 3 little gremlins from letterstoear.
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Just wanna say i adore the flower stickers on the letters too much, they are that much worth mentioning.
#letterstoear#nui#twst#twisted wonderland#sebek zigvolt#malleus draconia#twst grim#mod posting#okay but i love squishing the bears with my thumb; they just have the right thickness to be pressed on#i really like the flower stickers; they look like romantically artistic wax seal#the letters are pleasantly nice#i love the part where cheka personally request for an audience with yuu thru sebek 🥺🥺🥹🥹 too cute hnggh .......#sebek becoming our little mailman for our little invitation aw 🥹 for those who wanna know the context of the letter;#i requested a letter from sebek that he sent home while he was away accompanying malleus on other country duty#my other favorite part is just him simply opening the letter with 'My love'#i'm sealed 🥹 the first paragraph is written so sweetly#i enjoy reading the letter slowly outside in peaceful afternoon today; i ran it through together with sebek nui#this will be my treasured keepsake from now on 🥹; it seriously made me miss letters and wish i have someone to send this kind of letter to#it was a bit funny how the envelope sebek's letter came from is sticked with the guys from free! sticker fhsdsh 🤣😂#and me with the white haired guy like WHo are u?? fsjdsdjsd (´つヮ⊂); but it's a really nice service#the thank you letter came with such a cute and yummy folding paper; thank you for the stickers too#i feel like there's a bit whoopsie on grim's winky eye fshfh like i think the sharpie just blurs the separating space '<' supposed to have#and just combine it all together into one angry eye; and sebek bear's eyes are just a little bigger than i expected it to be#but the more i look at them i think they are just having a little individuality & still cute#i embraced it all together while knowing the fact none of handmade thing would always be the same one with the other; hehe sebek nui has fr#i kinda forget that there's this kind of clip earring fshd; because i always get the ones that work like screw from aliexpress#i know that the literal clip one would just be literal meaning of pain fsh; just like the magnet one my father once got me when i was a kid#it was painful but pretty; tho i lost it quickly bcs magnet easily get loosed once one part of it moves around when u touch ur hair or face#anyhow i had a pleasant day because of this; thank you very much ! sebek nui said 'thank you' too! ‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚. ❀ ✿ 𖤣…
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somegrumpynerd · 11 days
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It's interesting to think about how, to me at least, Dust and Killer are like mirror versions of each other.
One who joins a villain enthusiastically, jumps at the chance to leave his past behind and have a purpose again, and the other who has to be dragged in, would rather rot in the consequences of his own actions.
One who needs orders, needs the distraction and the action and the thrill, can't sit alone with his thoughts for too long lest he hear them clearly, and the other who can't bring himself to ignore the ghost over his shoulder, would rather sit in place and listen to his own self loathing parroted back at him than stand up and find a way to drown it out.
One who doesn't associate with his past anymore, that wasn't me and I wasn't him, and cannot stand the thought of going back from where he came, and the other who wants nothing more than to be his old self again but feels so strongly that he doesn't deserve to return to the life he tore down himself.
They both wear their new names like dog collars, but one is a gift given by someone else because he's theirs, he has somewhere he belongs that he's expected to return to, and the other is a choker tying him to a post, warning others of his danger while never allowing him to get out of arm's reach of his past.
And getting them both back-to-back while trying to understand mortals was probably enough to give Nightmare whiplash
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lavaflowe · 8 months
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My DTYIS took so long, that by the time I posted it, I felt like it didn’t really fit my style or skill level anymore so I thought “why not do it again?” SO HERE WE ARE
Third times the charm✨😎
Me rambling about all the little details:
For this one took a lot of inspiration from the wrathful aspect of the Bodhisattva of wisdom Mahakala (I did a research project on him a while ago and the iconography stuck with me). He was mostly prayed to to protect troops during wars and battles so I thought it fit well with Wukong and his warform. The five jewel ornaments in Wukongs hair are reference to Mahakala’s five skulls, which also represent the five wisdom‘s. The skullcap and knife of course reference the spread of wisdom and destruction of ignorance.
For what Wukong’s outfit I thought since he doesn’t necessarily need armor, it would be fun to reference opera! I did have to change the colors tho from his opera outfit to better mesh with the color scheme.
And for the last bit- the ruyi bang. For my redesign, I included lotus buds that bloom when wukong reaches enlightenment. But I wanted to continue having the staff change with along with him- so in place of the lotus buds, I decided to put Dragon Pearl for the time spent at Ao Guangs palace. Dragon pearls are usually flaming, and that also reminds me of the Buddhist mani, wish granting jewels (which can also be flaming).
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puppyeared · 4 months
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my attempt at making a fursona
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sysig · 3 months
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Blind side (Patreon)
#Doodles#UT#Handplates#Sans#Papyrus#Gaster#Sans closing his good eye every once in a while and keeping his blind eye open - obviously he does so in-game as well so it's a style-match#It's just interesting in the context of him being textually-confirmed blind in Handplates hehe#There's a level of vulnerability there! Not more than closing both eyes around someone - and potentially also distrust!#''I'm baring myself blind right now but /you/ don't need to know that'' - it suits him ♪#Especially when he does it around Papyrus! Because obviously Papyrus knows about his partial blindness#But when he's trying to be duplicitous - the way he looks at him sidelong with his blind eye when he's trying to lie unsuccessfully ugh <3#And again-again it being about how much he trusts Papyrus! That he can be a little lazy or spacey and Papyrus will help him!#Also something about his entire right side being impaired - pawing around with his plated hand for something he can't see on that side#The dynamics! Internal and external! Very good like them lots#And then there's Gaster lol ♪ Throw him into the mix I'm sure it won't make a mess at all haha#I guess he's visiting? Just spacing out - he and Sans have a lot on their minds - separately haha#I do love how Sans pushes Gaster to be kind to Papyrus - very deservedly! He wants Papyrus to be happy of course#And he's obviously still angry with Gaster a lot but how might that present itself when Papyrus is Papyrus at Gaster hehe#Even just in that small jokey way of ''you tryin' to step on my turf?'' hehehe#Especially since the comparison wouldn't even come up if he had two functioning eyes hm?? Right Gaster???? Lol#Speaking of that scene and Sans' partial blindness tho ughhughuhg <3 <3 The fact that Sans stands with Gaster to his blind side#It's the vulnerability/distaste/confidence of it all! He's grown up so much it's all right there in how he holds himself#That he either trusts Gaster enough not to attack him - starting to believe him - or that he has enough faith in himself to protect himself#And only looking at him with his peripherals unless he looks directly at him hghhhgh I am Normal about shot composition I swear lol#Also I like how that last panel turned out lol - Sans just appears at the bottom of the steps like how's it going. care to gtfo thx
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gertritude-art · 3 months
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mom, can you come pick me up? i'm not sick. i just don't want to be here anymore.
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mattodore · 3 months
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i circle around you, a wild animal near a fire
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narcissarina · 1 month
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𝔊𝔬𝔩𝔡𝔢𝔫 ℭ𝔞𝔤𝔢, 𝔅𝔩𝔲𝔢 𝔅𝔬𝔫𝔡𝔰
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જ⁀➴Previous chapter
Pairings: bodyguard!Leon × college billionaire!reader
Word count: 2,661
Summary: You tried to run off to escape him, but failed. Now you two created such scene in school grounds.
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𝙸𝙸.
The most dangerous agent, now your bodyguard—stood before you. He’s prettier than you thought, pretty boy? Pretty boy. You just didn’t want to admit that he’s so much better in person, much more better than those pictures and in news.
He could be a role model of he wanted to, with that heartthrob of a face—you just took a guess that this man can pull any woman he wants, but little did you know that he’s actually awkward towards women.
“Hi..?” you began, tone indifferent with a cock brow, “pleasure to meet you, your father says that I’ll be your bodyguard from now on.” His voice deep and husky, you would be lying if it didn’t made your legs clench together, right?
You cleared your throat and mind, shaking off those kinds of thoughts, “I appreciate it, but I don’t need one.” You grit your teeth while uttering those words, you turn to your father and frown at him—trying to get your pretty, begging eyes to have your father throw him out. Eyes screaming, “but, daddy! I don’t want him, I can take care of myself.” Type of eyes.
Your father could only smile and turn to Leon, “I am so sorry about that.” Then grip your hand, it hurts but you could only frown and storm out of the scene.
Leon’s gaze followed your figure till you disappear from his sight, he turns and talk more with your father—getting his objectives and that when the others need him, he can’t be with you for a while.
You surround yourself with all your squishy, grumbling under the sheets and doing your assignments there. Yet, another topic that your stupid ass professor did not teach, you called Sarina—her phone is off. You whine and threw your feet, some of your plush got off the bed and you sat up, still under the blanket and stare at it.
You hiss at the light as your blanket got pulled off, “what are you doing?” It was Leon, your blanket in his hand and put it in the edge of your bed. “What are you doing in my room?” you hiss and got off of bed and walk towards, you heard him scoff and pick up the squishy and plush that fell off the bed, “didn’t knew father also hired a personal cleaner.”
You gave him a side-eye and cock a brow, he smiled at your remark, amused as he place them in bed. “Aren’t I the first one who asked you a question, sweetheart?”
Sweetheart.
You shudder at the name, either you cringe or just felt your stomach flutter. No one called you sweetheart before, not even your father. Either they call you dear or by your name, plus with a monotone or demanding tone of voice. But Leon’s? It was low and seducing. As if he’s luring you into a trap.
You didn’t answer, back turn to him as you resume your focus to your work. Pen tapping the desk, as Leon just watch you from the distance.
It only took a few minutes until Leon walked up to your desk and lean down to see what you’re up to, your breath hitches and turn your head to him—quickly moving your head away as you inhale some of his cologne.
“What are you up to?” he asked, “none of your business.” You replied, rolling your eyes as his hands were holding on to the edge of your desk, completely trapping you in between. “oh, this is easy.” He points then read the question aloud in my textbook, “Examine the role of women in World War II and the, both on the home front and in combat roles.”
He turns to you, leaning a little close, “so?” you stay quiet, not knowing what to answer since it isn’t even taught by your prof, or rather it was just a boring video that you didn’t payed attention in class. You mutter lowly, “dunno.”
He sigh and took out a chair and sat beside you, you grumble, “I didn’t think father also hired a tutor.” Your remark. “Well since you’re a woman, I think you should know this question. Isn’t women empowerment a thing?” he asked, you glared at him and punch him to his side, he didn’t budge and took your punch. He even thinks you punch cute.
“are you insulting me?” you said, “I didn’t say that.” He chuckle in amusement and took the back of your chair to scoot you close, he cleared his throat and took your pen. He points to the text and began, “women played a crucial role in world war two, what are those roles?” he asked, giving a pause and letting you answer but words didn’t come out of your mouth and just shrunk in your sit.
“eyes here, princess.” He took your jaw and gently force you to look at the textbook, “I’m not done explaining.” He added and continue, “women serves in various capacities, such as factory workers, nurses, and members or armed forces.” You listen attentively, never know that his voice sounded so nice when explaining things. Even kind enough to provide you answers.
“Countries like the Soviet Union, women served in combat roles as pilots, snipers, and partisans.”
“They held guns?”
“yes, they held guns.”
“I wanna hold a gun too.” You mutter and let your face fall to your textbook and turn your head, “continue.”
Leon nodded and stared at your face, then eyes on the textbook again. “Their contributions not only supported the war efforts but also challenged traditional gender roles and paved the way—” you cut him off.
“for greater gender equality in the post-war period.” You mutter lowly, Leon nodded and lean back to his chair, “and here I thought you didn’t know.” He gave you a faint smirk as he folds his arms. “that’s the only thing I heard when class ended.”
“you said your prof didn’t taught you this?” he raised a brow, “or did you simply didn’t listen to your lessons?”
You let out a ‘hmp’ and scoot your chair to your desk and statt working on your assignment, you were guilty but you didn’t want to admit that—you think it’ll make him a know-it-all. And your pride wouldn’t let you.
“You on your own? Or you still need me to break down history for you?”.
“You’re annoying.”
“that’s not the answer I’m looking for, princess.”
You ignored him, but he stayed incase you didn’t understand some parts and need him to explain to you. And he was right, you’d tap your pen again and it’s his cue to come and help you, you’re almost teary and at meltdown at your assignment.
Leon finds this amusing and stayed longer than intended.
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You start yet another day, doing your usual routine but the twist is Leon will be and always will be following you around. As long as you don’t disappear from his sight, he won’t interfere.
Good news, you finish your assignment last night! Congratulations, you wouldn’t finish it then interrupt Sarina from her book without Leon’s help. Not only is he hot, but also smart—you felt a bit embarrassed that for someone you just met for the first time would be tutoring you.
But, hey. At least he is much better than those boys who tutor you in the past then ended up getting tutored by Sarina.
You made your bed, showered, pick an outfit to go to school to slay yet again. Leon could only watch you move and do your thing in the distance, you come downstairs get your breakfast as you finally got to the car that’ll drive you to school.
Plot twist: Leon must be there with you.
You hate that idea, since you felt awkward from last night—you go from hating him then needing him when there’s a topic that you know nothing about, Leon must be thinking you’re just crazy and having a terrible mood swing.
The whole car ride was a bit eerie, even the driver that drove you yesterday felt uneasy. You steal a glance and you turn away quickly because you realized that his eyes were always locked into you. His icy and cold gaze always following your every move, sounds creepy. Isn’t that the type of book trope that Sarina reads?
You can feel him tug a small smile from his lips then turning away, his expression quickly changing to a cold, unexpressive expression. Like this man doesn’t smile at his whole life.
Your bag on your lap, your attention out the window as you and Leon sat at the same seat quietly—keeping a good distance between the two of you until you finally arrived at your destination.
You gave the driver another tip and now, he felt like he can’t stop you from tipping him. You got out the car, and so does Leon’s. You can tell people at your back stop their tracks and take out their phones as if they have seen a real life celebrity—scratch that, he is a celebrity. This motherfucker saved the presidents daughter.
You don’t like the whispers, since Leon is with you—they’ll ask you questions if you two were a thing, why is Leon with you. How come the most dangerous agent is with a person like you.
You like gossips, really—you love the juicy drama and tea, but you don’t like getting involve into drama. They’ll spread it like wildfire, asking questions if they could have Leon’s phone number or that if you two did the deed and if so, is he good? Is he endowed? Fuck them.
Turning your back at him, he follows, “you can stop following me!” you hiss, “can’t do that, sweetheart.” Leon remark, his front touching your back—towering you from behind, you look up to meet his blues.
In others eyes, they could see two people flirting in school grounds, one an agent that dates a college student. Scandalous, isn’t it?
“you can’t always follow me, Leon!” you said and start to walk off, but Leon caught your wrist and turn you around to meet his eyes, “your father instruct me to protect you, I can’t go against your father’s will, now can I?”
You could hear giggles from other students, their phones out and recording—word could spread and come to the principal. “I can’t always have you here, Leon.”
“I won’t interrupt you, I just need to watch over you and ensure your safety, princess.” You snatch your wrist away, you groan and walked away whilst Leon follows. People think that they just witness a fucking conflict of a love story.
You went to the cafeteria to buy some drink, Leon’s outside the cafeteria—it was bustling with people and every people that pass by, they see the blonde agent and asked to take photos with him, which you don’t know if he declines of not.
You took your drink, striking a right time to lose your bodyguard—but there’s only one in and out of the cafeteria and Leon seems to be busy making small talks with the students, so—the first thing that came out from your mind is to run. It’s quite dumb, really. Leon could catch you for 10 seconds max and held you in place so you wouldn’t be a naughty girl.
But you still made a run for it, good thing you still hasn’t pluck the straw in and that your bag isn’t with you right now.
“hey, hey!” Leon yelled, his voice changing to a higher pitch tone, “get back here.” He said and rushes over you, adrenaline kicks in—Leon’s chasing you, not knowing you’re making a scene and people recording. They’ll think that two people are having a chase of their life romantically, but it isn’t. Leon is pissed, your pace began to slow down and before you knew it—you were swept off your feet as he threw you over his shoulder.
“Let me go!” you whine and hit his back a few couple of times, you feel him pat and slap your ass and taking a few deep breaths, “naughty girl.” He said and picked up the drink you dropped.
He picked up your bag where he left it since you asked him to watch it for you. “Now, where to?” he asked, sliding the strap over his shoulder, “Leon, stop! People are watching.” You whine and move your legs to get off.
“No worries, you’re getting the attention you deserve.”
“Stop!” your ear and cheeks burning hot red, you could only cover your face with your hands and just accepts defeat. “where to?” he asked again, “Library…”
You cover your face from the entire walk where Leon still has you in his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, Sarina was waiting for you in the library and Leon came in with you in his shoulder—peoples eyes dart to you and him when he entered, “girl, I have been waiting fo—” Sarina cut herself mid-sentence.
Leon puts you down, you’re facing him and your back at Sarina—you don’t wanna face your best friend now and be dumped with a bunch of questions. You lose balance and your covered face made contact with Leon’s chest, you don’t fucking care anymore. You’re too embarrassed to exist now.
Leon looked down and grab you to your shoulder and try to turn you around, you don’t want to and whine at him. Hiding yourself to him and hitting him repeatedly.
“Don’t be a brat now, princess.” Leon whispered, “or else, you’ll draw more attention—which you don’t want, right?” he added and that made you sit down with your friend and ignore Leon’s existence.
Sarina’s kept wandering back and forth to Leon, scooting over to you and giggling as she whispers unnecessary things like how luck you were and that if you two were a thing.
“He’s my bodyguard, the end. Period. End of story. No more question.” You said with gritted teeth, Saeina backs out and chuckle, “ok girl.” She rolled her eyes while Leon only watch.
“by the way, who’s that guy?” you point at the distance, male group with a few females across the room—one particular guy catches your attention, but hey—didn’t you say that you hate guys?
“Why do you asked? I mean, you have Leo—” you hit Sarina with her book closed and she let out a hiss of pain, “god fucking damn—” she curses and glared at you.
“I’m just asking, that doesn’t mean I’m interested.” Or are you? Leon cock a brow and turn his attention to the group with males and female student whispering among themselves and as if they were being held back at being loud.
A brunette guy snatches your attention, curly hair and his smile is something that made you drift you away from reality—as if time froze and it’s just you and him. But Leon isn’t having it, he has this feeling but he shouldn’t voice it out. He’s here for work, he shouldn’t give a shit about you having a little crush over a guy.
But the feeling is that the guy will be a playboy, that’s the vibe Leon is getting since there’s two girls surrounding him.
But who is he to judge?
Leon snapped your attention away, “if you have laser eyes, you could’ve burn through that guys face, you know that?” you hit him and sulk.
Sarina rolled her eyes, “girl, if you want him. Try to have him, I’m just saying that your bodyguard is so much better.” You try to hit her one more time but she dodges and ran out of the library.
But little did you know that the brunette turn his eyes and laid on you, you never knew but instead his gaze met Leon’s cold icy blues. You want to question Leon why he has his hand on your waist as he drags you out of the library.
You’re really in for a ride, aren’t you?
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