When you’re a psychotic murderer and your crush won’t kiss you because you stabbed her ex boyfriend in the throat with a shard of porcelain and slammed her current boyfriend’s head on the floor until he passed out.
Here, have Casca giving food to what’s probably the spirit of her child using the full moon, that time of the month where magical forces are at their strongest, to have one night of freedom away from Griffith/Femto who used his material body to reincarnate.
Y’all need this, they’re just super cute; that boy saved his mommy (and his daddy too) so many times that he totally deserves to use the full moon to spend time with her and cuddle.
You're not sure how you feel about most sports, but you can't help but to watch them when they run. They kick off so hard that they seem to almost fly through the beginning of the race. They're always wearing some form of red. Their hair is a curly mess and when you try to smooth it down you feel something sharp break the skin on your hand. They look at you. Their eyes are glinting gold.
You catch sight of them sometimes, lounging outside small bakeries and cafes. The air seems to move a little slower around them, thick and cloying like honey. Your watch has stopped. Everything is calm and warm, but when you leave the sun is already setting. You only stopped by for a pastry.
You notice them sometimes at the entrances of side streets and tiny alleys, standing side by side. Their hair is dyed outrageous colours and spiked like a hedgehog. The one who is grinning at you beckons you closer, but behind them the one who is frowning desperately shoos you away.
You go to the library early one morning,sleep deprived,half dead and yet absurdly over stimulated from coffee. All the reference books have been loaned out. A librarian, a little smaller than the rest, emerges from nowhere and hands you a copy. There are indents in the cover and for a second you think you see claws hidden in the sleeves of their sweater. Their eyes glisten. You're too intimidated to ask how they got this book.
They seem to show up in the strangest of places. On rooftops, in trees, curled up in a shopping trolley that has been abandoned in the street. Cats follow them everywhere. Your cat has been missing for the past week. You think it has joined the crowd that follows them. They flash you a smile that speaks of war. You know then that you would follow them too. Their smile says that you might have to.
You've lost your friend at a party. Your head pounds to the beat of the music. The creepy 40 something year old that nobody invited has been tracking your movements. As you start to panic a cool hand slips into yours. A silky voice tells you to look away from him. You dance and everything seems more intense somehow. On your way home you find a slip of paper in your pocket. On it is written a telephone number. It disintegrates as you add it into your contacts.
You're feeding pigeons on the boardwalk when you see them. They're crawling low to the ground and you're not sure why anyone would want to do that among the mess of fish hooks and tangled lines. A group of boys are throwing their rubbish into the river. You catch a glimpse of them pouring mud and fish heads into the boys socks. The boys don't seem to notice. When you take your shoes off you find a five dollar bill scrunched up in the bottom.
You're pretty sure that job interviews aren't supposed to be this terrifying, especially not for part time work at a fast food venue. You earn only ice cold stares from them until they see your references. Then they give you a strange smile that sends your heart soaring and plummeting simultaneously. They tell you that you'll fit in here. You just wonder whether you'll be able to get out. When you pull away from a handshake they leave the impression of claws on your palm.
You're on a bus and the sun is going down when you sit next to them. They ask you where you're going and you tell them. They ask you why. You give a much more honest answer than you had expected to. You find yourself trying to justify the actions that have led you to this point. They hum along thoughtfully. You're already at your stop. The bus is empty except for the two of you. You could have sworn that it was full when you boarded, but yours has been the only stop. You turn to wave as you leave but now the seat is bare.
You're grocery shopping and you don't usually make a habit of talking to anyone when you do so, but your eyes lock over the frozen produce. You realise that you're crying. The two of you sit down in the isle. No one tells you not to. The store is strangely quiet, the hum of the lights and refrigerator behind you the only constant factors. You leave with several dubious pieces of life advice and an excellent recipe for fried chicken. as you turn your key in the lock of your door you realise that they know your life story, but you don't even know their name.
You're at a target late at night looking for something that you can't quite name. Nothing seems right. A shop attendant behind you agrees. They lead you through the racks into an area that you have never been in before. Dark things dart between the shelves. They point to an item on the shelf. It is slowly growing. It's perfect. As you leave you glance behind you but the lights are off inside. You check the open hours. It closed hours ago. You check your receipt. It's a plain piece of paper covered only by a shaky drawing of an eye and a price.
You have a foggy memory of a summer camp attended years ago. They were attending too. They always stood a little away from the other kids, the counselors never spoke to them. They showed you secret places hidden behind brambles and stinging nettles. You weren't quite sure how they got through spaces that were so much smaller than their body. On your final day they pressed a tiny golden pendant into your hand. The rest of the memory has faded. You ask your parents about it but they tell you that you have never been to summer camp. The pendant is still in your top drawer. It feels warm to the touch.
It was about time for me to draw this handsome boi. The cute Penny is saying “Eu moido”, which is a cute version of “Eu mordo”. Translating to English is “I bite”. It’s just a Brazilian joke that I think works very well with Penny.
If you like what you see, please consider reblog. IT helps me a lot.
mass effect is very important to me and I don’t want my opinions or my experience to change in a negative way because of the fandom.
I won’t leave this blog or fandom, but I won’t hesitate to unfollow people or avoid the tag or anything, depending what’s going on (I didn’t unfollow anyone, don’t worry. but it might happen in the future if I see something that’s bothering me)
I don’t want to be involved or see any fandom drama, for me, but also for the people who follow my blog. and when I notice that I start liking a character less because of the fandom, I will keep my distance because I don’t want to destroy my experience or my opinion of that character.
this is just a little info, not meant against anyone in particular. have a beautiful sunday, everyone!