"We all have the same roots, and we are all branches of the same tree"
click for better quality :)
This took me like 2.5 weeks to actually finish, and after a collective 18 hours of work, it's finally done. Honestly super proud of how this turned out :)
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Idk why but writing Karlach is so easy for me. Wyll is somewhere close. Writing Gale is...hm, journey, but I can pull it off (maybe). Gortash is fine if I Channel a right mindset. Astarion is a strong maybe.
But Lae'zel and Shadowheart? Jaheira and Halsin? How the fuck do I write them, I'm scared of trying to write their POV's.
But also the outsider perspective on whatever is going on with the other companions in Empty Prayers AU is really fun.
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Photographer: Hans Feurer
Collants Chesterfield, Dye Transfer Print, 75, 1975
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I don't remember if I've shared this or not, but Majora in my hc was a Zonai--
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I'm loving how Zeff put Luffy's wanted poster underneath 'Employee of the Month'.
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all this love with nowhere to go
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infatuation makes your heart race
love is quiet. love sets you at ease.
and because most of my pieces are mental screenshots of little scenes in my head, here's the scene:
Crowley was tugged into consciousness bit by bit. The afternoon light slowly filtered in, as well as the hum of music from the other room and the weird angle his neck was at. He was warm and content and wanted to sink back into his nap, but the threads of sleep fluttered away the more he tried. Finally, he took a deeper breath, shifting in the armchair, and cracked an eye open just a sliver. There he was, the angel, sitting at his desk. Had hardly noticed Crowley was awake, engulfed in his task of retouching a damaged page. Looking at his hands, Crowley became aware of the fuzzy warmth covering his own and peeked down to see a blanket tucked around his shoulders.
The feeling hit him so hard he let his head loll to the side, eyes closed. His chest tightened and he just…buckled. Finally came undone under the weight of his love for Aziraphale. Its inexorable, steadfast pull which he had been pushing back against for millennia, it had finally caught him off guard, sleepy and vulnerable and so tired from holding back, from refusing to name it. It was a quiet surrender. Crowley looked back at Aziraphale with the understanding of a man meeting his end and embracing it.
Perhaps he could gently pull the blanket to the side and get up. Perhaps he could cross the few steps to the desk and place a freshly made cup of tea to Aziraphale’s right. Perhaps he would hold his gaze, for longer than needed to answer “Don’t mention it”. Perhaps he would ask him if he would like a scone with that. Perhaps Aziraphale would understand that this was not about the scone at all. And yet, what Crowley was asking of him was also exactly about scones. And tea. And quiet afternoons together. Perhaps the angel would finally put down his sword, too, and the world would let out a breath it had been holding for millennia.
the soulmate to this piece, i guess.
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Garp is the funniest character of One Piece because he's a marine and yet he had a revolutionary son and then three grandsons who are basically: A communist, an arsonist, and an anarchist. The four of them definitely say "fuck the Marines" on a daily basis but would probably show up to a family dinner as if nothing happened
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