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oneluckydragon · 8 months

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We'd both been so excited for it-- to change, to grow stronger, to pass another life-changing milestone on our adventure together. But after I evolved, it took weeks before Sora could even bring herself to look me in the eyes. It went unsaid between us, poisoning our hearts like a cold, bitter curse and haunting every intake of breath. Although, the worst of it all... was that even without words, we both knew why it hurt so much.

Like some sick joke, I had become the spitting image of him.

Ya'll know that feeling when you [Hero] try to evolve into a Leafeon to be closer in spirit to the best friend you lost [Grovyle] because you miss him so much it physically aches, but instead you end up looking like the guy you trusted/adored that betrayed/tried to kill you and your girlfriend? Cause damn it hurts.

Anyways ever since I replayed EOS and evolved at Luminous Spring I've had thoughts about what Sora's reaction would be to Echo's evolution into Umbreon. And lemme tell you that it's an emotional roller coaster. To say that Sora has complicated feelings about Dusknoir is an understatement, and Echo isn't so happy about it either since she had put her faith in him. They've got a lot of trauma to heal.

But to add to that, I like to write about my girls in my spare time when I'm not drawing cause it's fun, so maybe I'll post some little blurbs sometime if anyone is interested?? Hm. Yeah might do that eventually, we'll have to see.

#i have LOTS of feelings about Team Wish's relationship with Dusknoir and the aftermath of the main story and i need to EXPRESS it #yes... some of Echo's markings match the pathetic man which makes it EVEN WORSE for them both to deal with #for the first few days Sora visibly recoils every time she glances at Echo-- which hurts them both equally even though it's an accident #and when grovyle/celebi/dusknoir return from the future post-game i'm sure you can imagine the shit that goes down #i like to think that they reconcile but dusknoir needs to know that he effed up big time and needs to do some serious apologizing #it's obvious which pic i was the most invested in but i'm not ashamed i like drawing glowy/sparkly stuff #this was also supposed to just be a quick doodle but i went a tiny bit farther than that... i added some color wow #pmd #pmd2 #pmd eos #echo/umbreon #sora/lucario #dusknoir #my art

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lanawinterscigarettes · 2 months

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picturing the master/missy doing domestic, every day things is so funny to me because like. how many times do you think simm!master stabbed himself in the eye before he finally perfected putting on pencil eyeliner? imagine him furiously bleaching his hair with some grocery store box dye in a truck stop restroom only to spill half of it on accident because he wasn't watching what he was doing. missy spending hours picking out her clothes and doing her hair and makeup just to kidnap/threaten people like the absolute menace of a girlboss she is. do you think dhawan!master ever had to complain to his tardis for getting the measurements of his suits wrong sometimes when he went through his never ending wardrobe, demanding it give him something actually worth wearing. stuff like that

#like i know that theyre evil and scary and all but like.... they have to do normal people stuff too lmao #missy goes on a random killing spree because shes having a bad hair day #simm!master getting pissy at all the people who shout “emo” at him when he walks down the street #dhawan!master going to put one of his suit jackets on only for a button to pop off #the possibilities for hilarious fanfics and headcanons have endless potential #doctor who #the master #doctor who the master #missy doctor who #simm!master #gomez!master #dhawan!master #simm master #gomez master #dhawan master #doctor who headcanon #doctor who hc #the master headcanon #mosses random thoughts

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teaboot · 5 months

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how does it feel to be the art subtitling blog of tumblr

I've become the hero I needed

#I always scroll past shit so fast without reading subtitles on images #And I feel I do need bold text sometimes #To remind myself to slow down and appreciate the work that goes into things #The context is so important #And people make such cool stuff #It's inspiring to remember that

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bananonbinary · 30 days

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as a certified Diagnosed Autist(TM) i cannot stress enough that i am not only pro- self-diagnosis, but also pretty anti- legal medical diagnosis. it is, at best, a cruel hoop we have to jump through so privileged people will deign to give us what we need. don't fucking do that shit unless you have to, it was disgustingly expensive, fucking humiliating, infantilizing, and dehumanizing, and would probably actively cause problems in my life if i didn't have some really good allistic (-passing) people in my corner and also wasn't so fucking disabled that it mostly doesn't matter.

literally get that diagnosis if you need it for job/school accessibility shit or SSI or whatever, and otherwise dont tell the government SHIT about yourself. there is zero good reason for them to want that information. that's between you and the people you want in your life.

#as a side note: this goes for gender too #dont fucking get a special marker on your passport or whatever #trying to get ssi has made me realize how deeply cruel the system is #never reveal any vulnerability you have unless it's absolutely necessary #do not do this stuff for validation the government is not your friend and you should seek emotional fulfillment elsewhere #hm this post turned out a lot angrier than i meant #guess i'm still mad about how awful the process was #it wasnt even long it was just. so *impersonal.*#this woman talked to me for two hours. went down a fairly bigoted checklist.#didnt ask me my own opinion on much of anything. and then declared a bunch of her impressions as if they hold weight just bc shes allistic #like how i have 'identity issues' (am trans and dont want a romantic partner)#and thats just. my permanent record of diagnosis! this two hour conversation with a stranger! she doesnt fucking know me #we paid like $500 for that

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fortes-fortuna-iogurtum · 1 year

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I've been reading Exodus lately and I've just gotten to the portions where God gives the first commands to the people via Moses (twice), and then goes on to give detailed instructions about the tabernacle and how it should be built, and I'm just... we think art is unimportant?? we think things only mean as much as their functionality?? we so easily fall into the trap of believing that beauty means nothing, that it's cheap and only worth whatever mindless distraction it brings, that it's barely more than a cheap sensual thrill, that buildings should just be practical and plain and cheap, that everything should be functional but ultimately disposable, that paintings and dresses and mugs and curtains and carpets are just pretty but have no real value, that beauty is fleeting and vain and therefore shouldn't be thought about too much, if even looked for at all... we fall into these traps so easily, and we forget that there are chapters upon chapters of painstakingly detailed plans to build one portable worship tent, and those plans have been handed down through thousands of years of human history, because beauty and art and skill in craft is important

#I have to go get ready for work now but I will come back to this #and don't even get me started on the parts about God calling specific craftsmen *by name*#he called them!! by name!!! he said 'this man is good at his job. he creates beautiful work. he will build my temple and make it beautiful'#and even more--God inspired him!!!! it was a calling of GOD for him to create beautiful carvings and tapestries and candlesticks!!!#look even if you're not jewish or christian or religious at all you have GOT to see what it means that all these incredibly detailed plans #for building this tent-temple are extremely important #because even if you don't believe in God and don't think that this is all significant bc he personally gave the instructions #and then helped preserve this record of them so we could still read them today #you do have to see how important they were to the people of that time who first wrote them down #and the extreme care that was taken to record all of those detail #AND the fact that it's been preserved for so long and we can still read all the care that was put into creating this incredible piece #of artwork and worship they made #gurt says stuff #I just. gahhfhhfj. I'm feeling emotional about chapters of the Bible that I can't even fully force myself to pay attention to #bc there's so MUCH and I'm bad at visualizing this stuff and I tend to zone out while listening to it #but the fact that it IS that much!!! that there SO MUCH DETAIL and it goes on for SO LONG that I even struggle to pay attention!!!#that this was THAT IMPORTANT to the people who wrote it and to God!!! as an artist and someone who has always cared about art #this means so much to me ok #christianity #bible verse #bible thoughts #exodus #art #theology

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puppetmaster13u · 7 months

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have a very early wip of a tea party :>

This is @phoenixcatch7 's Possessed Doll Au

#idk why but I was hit with the vivid image of the puppets holding a music box that guides whoever they're calling to down through the caves #Each song different yet the same for each of them #Behold Bruce's first time to the Dollhouse lol #Idk if it's canon to Phoenix's but honestly I like to think that the first doll Bruce encountered was the one that'd eventually be robin #Since he was a child when he fell down in the well and into the tunnels beneath #batman au #bruce wayne #possessed doll au #possessed puppet au #sketch #art #First time down there it's more cave like but as time goes on it shifts #Some of it from them working on stuff and others on its own #The table getting longer and larger as the family grows even if not there yet #The puppets know when to emerge from the shadows and join the others at the table #I like to think the patriarch puppet is damaged the first time Bruce goes down #maybe mimicking a certain father's wounds before he died but maybe not still debating that #god i love this au #Honestly their eyes are empty like sockets because they don't have the lights or glass yet #just darkness :)

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seldonhari · 5 months

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Jared Harris as Russel in Igby Goes Down (2002) / part 1

#filmedit #jared harris #he is so pretty #y'all see his arms? oh boy #i love the shape of him #igby goes down #moviegifs #kieran culkin #jeff goldblum #2000s #gifs #burr steers #jh*#stuff

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thesweetnessofspring · 8 months

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k so that poll about where Katniss and Peeta live once they're together is going around and I'm not here to tell anyone their headcanon is wrong but I keep seeing one thing in some tags that bothers me and that's the idea that Peeta's house doesn't have any ghosts, and the implication that Katniss is suffering the loss of Prim more than Peeta is suffering the loss of his family. His entire family.

I know his family didn't live with him, I know he had a bad relationship with his mom and his relationship with the rest of his family is a mystery, but that doesn't mean his house doesn't have ghosts. We don't know exactly what happened there besides the fact that he lived alone. His brothers could have come by to cheer him up, bringing cards to play poker and slap jack. He and his dad could have worked on new baking recipes in his kitchen. And look, even abusive parents aren't always terrible, and maybe his mom was trying to repair their relationship when he got back. We just don't know! And even if no one ever stepped a foot in his house the whole time, that is a whole other ghost--a feeling that he was never home, a house of his nightmares and pain and loneliness following returning from the Games.

I get that Katniss's loss was devastating and she externally reacts to it more than Peeta, who tries to hide the effect of his trauma, and I understand the logic that Peeta's house is easier or he would stuff down the pain to ease Katniss's, but he has ghosts in his house, too.

#the hunger games #peeta mellark #i know you guys love peeta too i just had to say this #bby boy stuffs down his trauma so deep it's easy to forget it's there sometimes but that boy is absolutely dying inside #and as for my own propaganda on the poll i'll just say that peeta always goes to katniss #and while memories of prim are in her house from the fact that they make the memory book i don't think that's necessarily a bad thing #she WANTS to remember prim #she's afraid to forget #and i think these two things (along with my headcanon that peeta hates his house and his happy memories are in katniss's)#that they stay in katniss's house #second choice is an apartment above the bakery that peeta obviously starts up once he's well enough

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everysongineverykey · 1 year

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i feel like we didn't give the mansion basement enough of a look because what the fuck. what the fuck. just purely from a game design standpoint the tonal whiplash of going from the fast-paced brightly colored noisy antics of the mansion to the dingy, dark, abandoned halls all alone- even your friends suddenly disappear from your side- is fucking insane.

it's comparable to the true lab in undertale, except at least the true lab had some closure at the end. the amalgamates were revealed to simply be well-meaning lost souls who didn't really want to hurt you, they were just hungry. alphys took everyone home. sure, there's the freaky flowey phone call, but that's undercut soon enough by the uplifting and jazzy beginning of the asriel fight and seeing all your friends again. in deltarune's basement, you get no resolution. spamton gives you a supremely off-putting fight in a strange setting, he collapses to the floor, and you walk out still feeling like that was just... wrong. even susie acknowledges it. there are no ordinary encounters in the basement. you don't even have enemy npcs to keep you company. the only people who live in the basement are the strange plug monsters and... that weird face in the dark. that place has been completely forsaken by the rest of cyber world. swatch talks around it, clearly not enthusiastic to go too in-depth. when you check the dark spots in the room with the machine, the flavor text reads "there's nothing interesting". nothing interesting? that doesn't mean nothing at all! there might be tons of deleted data and drawings in there, and we have no. idea. what any of it looks like. the empty, dusty chests that no one knows the previous contents of. what did they used to hold? the teacup rides, oddly well-maintained and shiny, clearly out of place among the rest of the decrepit place. it's like they and the plug guards are the only things in the basement anyone takes care to repair and maintain anymore.

coincidentally, they're also the main lines of defense against someone sneaking in to get to the machine. the only ones, in fact. shouldn't an artifact like that have, i dunno, sentient, mobile guards? but they don't. the machine is extremely powerful, and they know spamton wants it, but they don't do all that much to protect it. it's so fucking weird. the basement is so wrong on a fundamental level that's so out of place with typical toby fox fare that it really makes you realize that the next chapters aren't going to be all sunshine and rainbows. it sets the TONE. i feel like that was confirmed by some of what we saw in the spamton sweepstakes- the basement is bad, but the worst is surely yet to come.

#deltarune #it's some of the scariest stuff in the series and it's insane.#the way toby fox can clearly do POWERFUL horror when he wants to #but he doesn't. most of the time. and when you've let your guard down #he goes and pulls something like the true lab or the mansion basement. and it completely throws you

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leupagus · 2 months

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Please note that this fic is going to take the better part of 2024 and probably 2025

(and given my track record might never be done):

Sansa

"Do you like the taste?" asked Littlefinger, watching her closely as she tried the wine. He always watched her closely.

They had stopped at the Inn at the Crossroads; she hadn't wanted to, but she would have had to explain to Littlefinger why. So she had choked down a meal and refused to think about the last time she had come through this way, where the first member of her family had been murdered in the stable while Joffrey had sniveled and lied and shown her, for the first time, who he really was.

"I don't see what all the fuss is about," she answered. "Why do men love it so much?"

Littlefinger shrugged. "It gives some men courage."

"Does it give you courage?"

He smiled, the way he did when she had stung him. He would take his revenge on her somehow, she knew. He was nothing like Joffrey, but there was a smallness to him that reminded her of the king.

The dead king, now.

A flash of armor to her right made her look up; a familiar woman, tall and broad of shoulder in a suit of armor, had approached their table. "Lord Baelish. Lady Sansa. My name is Brienne of Tarth."

Sansa opened her mouth to reply, to tell her she knew who she was, of course she knew. Tyrion had mentioned her often, usually after rebuffing yet another request by the lady of Tarth for an audience with Sansa. I hope you don't mind, and Jaime vouches for her, but Cersei has made it clear she's to go nowhere near you and frankly this giantess makes me a bit nervy. He'd been glad to recount the tale of Lady Brienne and Ser Jaime, traipsing through the Riverlands on their way to King's Landing.

Before Sansa could speak a word, Littlefinger had made some cutting remark, the sort he was so good at. She'd yet to be on the receiving end of any of them but she flinched all the same, watching Brienne's face. Littlefinger was something like Joffrey — and something like herself, too, when she'd been young and pleased at her own wit. Looking back, she knew now that she had only ever been cruel.

Lady Brienne seemed not even to hear Littlefinger; as though he were no more than a gnat to be tolerated until such moment as he could be swatted. She knelt, awkward but not clumsy, and looked earnestly up at her. "Lady Sansa. Before your mother's death, I was her sworn sword. I gave my word I would find you and protect you. I will shield your back and keep your counsel, and give my life for you if needs be. I swear it by the Old Gods and the New."

Would she have given the answering vow? She would never know, because once again Littlefinger was talking, sliding his glance over to Sansa to see what remarks might prompt a reaction. Sansa stayed still and watched as Lady Brienne's attention was at least drawn away, glaring at Littlefinger.

"Strange," Littlefinger was saying. "I knew Cat since the time we were children. She never mentioned you."

"It was after Renly's murder," said Lady Brienne, direct and blunt. She and Sandor would get along well, Sansa thought suddenly. Pity they had never met.

"Ah, yes," said Littlefinger. "You were accused of killing him."

Lady Brienne blushed, a splotchy red spreading across her cheeks. Shame, Sansa thought, but not guilt. "I tried to save him," she spat out. She did not glance over, to see if Sansa would believe her.

"But you were accused."

"By men who did not see what happened."

"And what did happen?"

"He was murdered by a shadow. A shadow with the face of Stannis Baratheon."

"A shadow? With a face?" Littlefinger turned to Sansa, and that was when she knew whatever he was about to say was a lie. "This woman swore to protect Renly. She failed. She swore to protect your mother. She failed." He smirked up at Lady Brienne. "Why would I want somebody with your history of failure guarding Lady Sansa?"

Lady Brienne made a face. "Why would you have any say in her affairs?"

"Because I am her uncle. I married her Aunt Lysa shortly before my beloved's untimely death. We're family now. And you are an outsider. Forgive me, Lady Brienne. But experience has made me wary of outsiders."

She gaped at him, then looked back at Sansa. "Lady Sansa," she said, and paused, as though at a loss for how to convince her. "If we can have a word alone?"

"Yes." Sansa rose, knocking into the table. The goblet of wine spilled and ran down her dress, but she was on her feet at last. The sellswords Littlefinger had brought with him moved in, one of them putting a hand on Lady Brienne's shoulder. She tensed and in just a few seconds there would be bloodshed, there would be someone dead on the floor and it would be her fault.

"Uncle Petyr," she said loudly, her heart rabbiting out of her chest, "Thank you very much for understanding. I will speak with Lady Brienne as you suggest, and then we shall resume our journey."

The sounds of eating and talking died out as faces turned toward her. A round-faced boy came bustling up, a wide, customer-friendly smile pasted on his face. "Is there anything I can help with, milord?" he chirruped.

"A room for the ladies," said Littlefinger, still watching her. She nodded very slightly and his mouth twitched.

"Have you anything on the floor above?" she added, addressing the boy with a nervous glance toward Lady Brienne.

"Er," came the reply, "Yes? Right this way, milady. Miladies."

Sansa leaned toward Littlefinger. He smelled of wine and the oils he used on his hair. "Could some of the guards watch the door?" she whispered. "And some near the stairs. Just…in case."

"Of course," he said, though his eyes were on her mouth.

The way Littlefinger had spoken of her mother, there had been a great rivalry between himself and Ned Stark; and before that a rivalry between himself and her uncle Brandon, who'd been betrothed to Catelyn before his murder. Littlefinger had always sounded like the defeated lover, the man who had nearly won his beloved's hand.

Mother had never mentioned Littlefinger. Father had, once they were in King's Landing and he'd been forced to admit an acquaintance. He'd sounded irritated more than angry; her mother had never loved him, had hardly ever thought of him. Her parents had lived and loved each other and all the while Littlefinger had stewed in his own curdled affections, imagining a love story that had never existed.

She could never decide what had moved her to kiss him on the cheek. Perhaps it had been a clever ploy to distract him, or a way to tell him she would return. She would have liked to have been that clever. But in the moment she could remember only how sorry she felt for him. "I'll just be a few moments," she promised him, lying.

Minutes later she was in a small bedchamber, with two dirty windows on each outside wall and the ominous creak of leather and metal just outside the door, signaling that Littlefinger's sellswords had taken up position. Lady Brienne, for her part, looked as uncomfortable as she had downstairs. "Thank you for speaking with me, my lady," she said.

"Can you fight them all?" Sansa asked her, keeping her voice down. They would need to be overheard soon, but they had a few seconds. Enough time, perhaps enough time. "If there's four in the corridor, and four downstairs."

"What? Yes, of course," said Lady Brienne, expression torn between confusion and offense. She fought off a bear once, Tyrion had told her with glee. Even beat my dear brother in a sword fight. When he still had both hands.

Sansa went to the first window. A long drop onto hard ground, and it faced the road as well as the hitching posts. The second was more promising: hay bales stacked haphazardly next to the wall, and the wood only twenty hards away.

"Start talking," she hissed at Lady Brienne.

She frowned. "I'm sorry?"

Sansa mimed opening the window. "Start talking. About anything. Honor or duty or what my mother was like. Whatever you'd say if you were trying to convince me."

Lady Brienne's eyes widened in understanding. "I…am not much for speeches, my lady," she said slowly, then more loudly as Sansa pulled open the window slowly, mindful of any squeaking. "But I found your mother an honorable woman, and your brother too. I brought Ser Jaime Lannister back to King's Landing at her request, so that you might be returned to your mother in exchange."

It would never have worked; she'd known that even then. The Lannisters did not understand the notion of letting go of an advantage, once they'd sunk their teeth into one. Even Tyrion had never offered to take her to her family once they'd been married. He'd had his reasons, and they had been good ones, but she'd learned another lesson that day. "So you sacrificed your oath to protect my mother for an oath to protect me?" she asked, making sure her voice carried as she swung her legs over the sill. "How can I know you'll not abandon me, too?"

It was important not to think. If she thought about it, she wouldn't do it.

She held her breath, put her hands over her mouth, and fell.

#yes I know they stop at AN inn not necessarily THE inn at the crossroads #but any excuse to have Hot Pie in a scene #also curious how people will react to Sansa Stark: Girl Who Jumps From Windows #because she does in canon but lbr that's after some uhhh gnarly shit goes down #would sansa do that if not pushed as far as she was at the end of season 5?#let's find out!#game of thrones #got: bitches get stuff done

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