The Sun Is But A Morning Star

☆ can we normalize carrying toys / plushies in public? ☆

as an autistic person that struggles with social anxiety, taking my comfort plushies with me always helps me be more comfortable.

it's not wrong to have comfort items, and we shouldn't be shamed for carrying them around!

I live for Ferrygabe AO3 fics

Happy stoat Saturday!!

It's not stoat Saturday yet...

happy third anniversary to Dream's End Come True <3 V2isDead.com

Hello friendo!! I did not notice it was you until I read the user helpp 😭 It was a really pleasant surprise though:)

Awesome art!! :D

uhhhuuuhhhhh gabriel is my favorite i want to be like him (worst choice of an inspiration ever)

um for those who are wondering. whhhyyy does gabriel have a bandana around his neck. liike i give that to characters i like. so. yeah. its basically just a award (i also CANNOT draw him without it)

AND FIRST IMAGE IS BAD DONT MENTION IT DONT MENTION IT

also hi clover

nobody has pet me for an entire hour. have I done something wrong or is the world simply cruel by design

I was made to love you, and yet,

Inspired by this observation by a friend:

I might be reading too much into this but I feel like when artists make a piece focused on Gabriel, they tend to portray him in their vision of beauty, and you can tell that from the art. It's got some kind of personal taste that goes in there so he's always beautiful, but an artist's kind of beauty, and I feel like you can tell the artist thinks he is pretty too.

Like.... so many people like to draw him with different body types and it's always with a kind of respect and focus on his form, involving some kind of natural beauty and/or ethereal majesty. Especially when people draw him in a dress or with artistic nudity,,

He feels like an outlet for depicting beauty... Or I am crazy and I'm just attracted to him in the most aroace way possible.

Anynya. Sketchy for u. Shapes are kinda off but swagever. We swag on.

Au where Minos' prime soul returns to his original, decimated body after it dissipated

Him huddling over the husks, using his body as shelter... He couldn't even soothe them, too overcome with horror at himself. He just stared at them and cried.

They gathered before him, and he dared not to reach for them.

Eventually, one husk step forward and held their arms out to him. Carefully, so very carefully, he lowered a hand to them and they hugged his finger, just like they did the day he died.

His hands were horribly disfigured and covered in untold amounts of blood, yet the motions were so familiar when he traced their face with a fingertip.

Days blend one into another as they find shelter in the ruined city. It hurt him to leave them, but he roamed the layer, seeking survivors. Every shadow that fled from him is another knife in his heart, but he persevered. He had to.

It never got quite crowded at their little refuge, but there's enough husks that the sound of people stopped getting drowned out by the howling winds. They cleaned out rooms and held each other and grieved for countless bodies. Minos knelt before the seemingly eternal pyre and ran through prayer after prayer until his mangled vocal chords gave out.

Still, he did not feel any closer to forgiveness.

Minos can barely talk with his death wounds, but he hums all the time. Lullabies, elegies, old love songs from the city's heydays. The husks join in with whatever sound they can make. Just as often, they screech melodies and make him sing along, rowdy bar songs and ballads full of dirty jokes, trying to make him laugh.

He's turned rather touch aversed, because sometimes when he's holding his people, his muscle memory reminded him of how it feels to crush them in his hands. He tolerated his people's affections because he had to be there for them.

the Pokemon TCG Illustration contest posted their 300 quarter-finalists; I didn't make the cut, but that means I can share my submissions!