Sukuna Is So Cute Dusting Himself 😭😭

TRANS WOMEN ARE WOMEN

I love #Harrypotter but I totally hate all of JK Rowling's transphobic comments. I wanted to make a drawing, it seemed appropriate that it be in the month of June . Amo #Harrypotter pero aborresco totalmente todos los comentarios transfobicos de JK Rowling. Queria hacer un dibujo, me parecia apropiado que sea en el mes de Junio . instagram, tiktok, youtube, twitter, threads: _natu_art_ . . .

Wasteland Scraps

Various cut tidbits from my Wastelands story! These are from various chapters, specifically chapters 5-8 :)

…

Where was he?

His limbs were heavy and somewhat tingly, but otherwise responsive and relatively pain-free. He moved to cover his face with a hand, only to smack someone else in their face.

“Uhnhgggg…” said person groaned.

“Max,” Piett called, recognizing that groan from a few-too-many drunken Imperial hangouts.

“Hnng?” Veers moaned again, twitching.

“Max, get off of me.”

The Imperial General swiftly rolled over, flopping next to Piett with no shortage of wordless complaint.

Propping himself up on his elbows, Piett scanned their surroundings.

It seemed to be a medical room of some sort, with a blinding, sterile atmosphere and an abundance of related machinery. An active bacta tank sat in the middle of the room, and a quick buzz from the Mindlink confirmed who it was.

He had been so certain that this week would be his last. Now, bound in chains and forced to kneel in absolute darkness, he wished more than ever that he had died like he was supposed to.

He remembered shattering the mindscape (he refused to think about why he had spiraled, lest he spiral again) and causing his Hivemind to collapse, injured but alive. The others in the group hadn’t been so lucky, and neither had the remainder of all the lifeforms in the base - even the stray tookas loitering around had not been spared.

He remembered his Master looming over him, a scowl on his features as he ordered Red Guards to lift him to a nearby hoverstretcher. He remembered watching as medics from his own fleet approached Piett and Veers, and he remembered the way his Master instructed the guards to cover him with a sheet, lest anyone else see. He remembered the shame, the humiliation that such an order brought, like he was something disgusting that needed to be hidden from view.

Mostly, he remembered how his severed jaw hung grimly from the wire necklace, glinting in the light, making him sick with fear.

“You must grow stronger,” Lord Vader insisted. “It is pertinent for our relationship for you to be able to defeat me in battle, for you to be able to kill me should the need arise.”

Piett blinked at him, stunned.

“Why, in all the Galaxy, would that be a needed skill?” Piett snapped, horrified.

Vader simply tilted his head, equally perplexed.

“It is important for relationships to be balanced, to be equal,” he said, finally. “I have been researching healthy relationships, and that seems to be a recurring sentiment.”

Piett pushed away the amusing absurd mental image of Lord Vader googling “how to have healthy relationship??? help???” and instead continued to stare at his idiot other.

“I must admit, I do not have very much experience with ‘healthy relationships’ or ‘boundaries’ or any of the other things I found in the advice I have received. I suppose that I will be… learning.”

Piett took a deep breath, resisting the urge to place his face in his palms.

“My Lord. Darling. Babe. That’s not what that means.”

Silence, save for the rhythmic breathing.

“They don’t mean physical prowess when they talk about a balanced relationship dynamic, though it is incredibly sweet that you thought so.”

“Then what do they mean?” Vader huffed, annoyed.

“They mean, like, financially, or when it comes to household chores, and stuff,” Piett replied.

“I… I do not have any money, personally,” Vader admitted. Piett just stared at him, unsure of what he meant.

“If necessary, I am permitted by the Emperor to utilize funds given to me, but I do not have anything else.”

“Hold on, excuse me?” Piett squawked, incredulous. “Aren’t you getting paid?”

Another blank stare from underneath the mask - Piett could feel it.

“For what?” He asked.

“For your job.”

“I do not have a job.”

“Then what do you call this?”

Staring at the screen, he found himself enraptured in what he saw, yet in disbelief of it at the same time.

After passing out in the mindscape, Piett had awoken to the crisp, sterile atmosphere of Recovery. The front of his skull had been fractured, just above his frontal lobe, and the medics said it was a miracle that he survived, let alone that he’d continue to survive with no further complications or long-lasting effects. Even more shocking, they said, was that the same exact thing had happened to General Veers.

He had felt much the same way hearing that tale as he did now, staring at the I-SORE (a rather unfortunate name, if you asked Piett - the place really was beautiful, and in no way an actual eyesore) report, seeing his name listed as the co-discoverer of a new species of warbler.

Of course, when Lord Vader had inexplicably called to him, a small bird in his hands, he had been… perplexed? Bemused? Experiencing an odd mixture of ‘what in the galaxy is happening’ and ‘oh shining stars that is SO romantic’? Either way, he didn’t quite know how to express, with words, the confusing mixture of emotions he felt.

He hadn’t seen what Lord Vader had opted to name the bird, or if he had even decided to name it at all. In fact, he hadn’t even known Lord Vader to be the least bit interested in birds, and Piett couldn’t deny the fluttering feeling he felt in his chest when he realized they possibly had a (very unexpected) shared interest. Still, never in his wildest of dreams could he have imagined that Lord Vader would have named the bird after him. And yet, staring in front of him in unyielding text were the words Piett’s Warbler, and Piett felt ready to just pass out then and there.

Tw: Child abuse

While I don’t envision Harry to be a particularly jealous person in the books, I can’t help but think about certain situations with Severitus where that emotion might come out.

I especially think about it when fanfics depict Severus as a protector for abused children in slytherin or Hogwarts as a whole. I think Harry seeing how Snape treats other children compared to him would enrage him.

Just seeing everything that he could have if things were just a little bit different, if he was sorted into slytherin, or if he just had a different father, or some other insignificant thing, he could have had the love, care and protection he always wanted. He could have had someone on his side who actually fought for him, was willing to do the hard stuff for him.

But he doesn’t just get jealous of how Snape treats other children, he gets jealous of the fact that Snape FINDS OUT about the other children’s abuse. He sees how easily Severus seems to pick up on other kids flinching, hiding injuries, or peculiar behavior, taking them aside after class within the first year, first month of school. Yet, after years of knowing him, Snape seems to have no clue. He sees that and can’t help but think why not him as well, he gets so so angry.

The anger and jealousy doesn’t stick however as he just ends up thinking maybe the way the dursleys treat him isn’t so bad, after all, if the number one person in the school for detecting abuse can’t see it, maybe it’s not actually abuse. And anyways, he should be grateful the other kids have someone to go to.

And somewhere deep down he thinks it’s his fault, because he has gotten rather good at covering up their tracks over the years. How can he blame the Professor when he purposefully hides the evidence?

Anyways hope yall enjoyed this rant :D

how to draw arms ? ? 

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Cursed footage returns.

Capeless Vader

Death(s)

Death is a merciful being, or so he, himself thought. He, who stood at the pinnacle of magic, in his life granted mercy to those who he dearly loved. One and foremost to his lover and others to those who, he could call his “sons”.

The three brothers, grew up with pain embedded into their flesh and bone. The first brother received it from the way he was brought to this world, the second alongside his mother received it from his own father, and the third received it from the family that was supposed to raise him. But alas, they continue to survived and finally meet death halfway through their life. Death seeing himself in them, welcomed and congratulate them for surviving.

Death asked them what is their most deepest desire.

The eldest brother, wished for power, magic more powerful than any in existence. The second brother, wished for protection for the one he loved. And the third brother, wished for his life to be void of pain. Death guided them to achieve their wish but never granted them any of it directly. Even though he had the power to granted it in seconds. In the end, none of his sons’s wish came true, since to be loved by death only means to gained his mercy. His mercy to then orchestrated your death the way he thought you wanted to. But beware, for his mercy is not freely given, for everything came with a price especially for his love.

Death loved his sons, that’s why he keeps delaying their death even though their flesh already rotted, blood coated into black, and their bones snapped with each step they took. Death gives mercy, as he is a merciful being. his hands shall be clean and devoid of his sons’s blood. For his sons, he allowed one to kill him directly, one to kill his younger siblings, and one to end them all. As he watched their downfall from his throne, death smiled to himself, praising himself to be the one who saved these poor souls from misfortune. His three beloved sons. His masterpieces. His very own deathly hallows.