#• ( ARC • tbt ) •

[thagyann]

she          sits          in          a          bed          of          dying          flowers          -          body          tense          and          hope          kissed          .          there          is          a          longing          within          her          ,          a          slow          remembering          of          what          she          was          before          the          stars          began          to          die.                              a          doctor          ameliorating          the          sickness          of          her          people.          a          good          life          catching          the          attention          of          something          ancient          .          leaving          fate          to          strike          her          a          deeper          task.                    the          decree          came          in          dreams          and          it          burned            TURNED          HER          BLOOD          TO          A          GOLDEN          RIVER.                    speaking          out          to          creation                    to          say          that          spring          had          come          back.                              and          it          challenged          her          ,          measured          her          worth          in          loss          and          pain          that          lured          the          eyes          of          a                    saintess          on          edge          of          madness          .                              but          nonetheless          she          went          on          -          and          here          with          her          sun          she          found          a          life          she          could          be          proud          of.

“          look          here       @holyrisen                           i          am          going          to          save          these          flowers          .”          -          a          smile          loops          around          her          face          -          catching          the          day          to          its          highest          point.                    SHE          WOULD          GIVE          THIS          FLOWER          BED          TO          HER          HEART.        make          it          forever          catching          all          the          lives          the          two          of          them          could          dream          up.                for          once          she          had          all          that          she          had          needed          and          all          it          asked          of          her          was          to          be          happy.          

[withbeasts]

a kiss while being reunited after a long time / joroman

kiss & tell.

after many hours, many tears, all three of them lay in bed together. shilah wraps around him from the back; one arm thrown over his stomach, finger pressed there, cheek smashed against his back. he's snoring slightly now, the angle a little awkward but how he wanted to be. close as possible. in front of him, josephine is still awake, their hands twined together and foreheads pressed.

he gives it another squeeze. she pulls closer, and he hears the slight hitch of her breath, and he leans his head down a little. " don't cry. " they had done a lot of that. " i'm right here. "

but she does cry -- and it's still okay, and he holds her as she does, her quiet whimpers just the overwhelming emotions of everything thad had happened the last few months. he understood. he still felt it too. ( the outpour of relief, even, was exhausting. he was just happy to collapse in both of them. )

when she finally settles, shilah still asleep, they lay there for a long moment. he pulls back eventually to look at her.

". i'm here. " he repeats again, and kisses her. " -- we're all here. " and he couldn't, wouldn't, think about them being separated again.

[oddly-casual]

Trolls band together spoilers

I like this thing Viva has going on with her cape being her safety blanket. Especially since it’s literally a patch of fake grass which could also be used to camouflage herself.

Like we’re introduced to her with it on, but only when she finds Poppy and gets excited does she take it off, like rips it off.

And it stays off for the whole song. It’s only later when Poppy starts asking Viva about their separation does Viva visibly get uncomfortable and puts the cape back on as she leaves.

That cape stays on even when Poppy and them all leave. The last time we see it on is when Viva appears with Bridget to help in the fight. She admits she’s freaking out but she takes her cape off anyway and it never comes back.

It gets flung in the water, sis had no intention of getting it back. But I think that’s really cool because this was Viva putting herself on the line, taking a leap of faith for people she loves even when she’s lived in fear for so long.

[withbeasts]

see her -- he had just been going to his next class, telling her goodbye, texting her throughout the day, until everything went silent. he thought she was busy. thought she was busy when she didn't tell him goodnight, when she didn't call, when it was the next day.

" i mean -- she was in her apartment. where they took her. she's not -- she doesn't usually go there that much anymore. " he still doesn't drink. " they ... shilah ... roman ... have been doing everything. and -- i know you're roman's friend, mostly, but -- your hers too, right? "

" 𝐢 𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐧'𝐭 , 𝐧𝐨 . " the minute he'd laid eyes on elliot there had been to heugh a look of overhang , a canopy dark and too thick for anything else other than that deepening dread that knuckled in on his furrow . four weeks . that's a long time to just be gone . a lot has happened in these past few months . to say heugh has been otherwise preoccupied would be a disservice to the truth . still . it bothers him . " c'mon darlin' . drink that . it'll help . " he taps the ceramic of the mug in elliot's cradling hands , gets busy filling one of his own . " i'll see what i can do . where did you last see her ? "

[murdermade]

@fleshcarverfugitive from here

Deep down, Orin knows that this woman is not the source of her pain but it is hard to think straight in the middle of a mental breakdown. Her entire world is coming crashing down and if Amalica had keept her mouth shut, none of this would be happening.

Her own dagger is gripped in her hand, raised as if she's going to thrust the thing through her but something gives her pause, the way she cries out that she is trying to help her distracts her enough that the Changling isn't stabbing her yet.

"Help me?! You destroyed me! Everything I have done....you're telling me it has all been for nothing?!"

[indigobloom531]

Velvet's Villain Arc

(I am obsessed with the way they animated Velvet's face here, it's actually a problem)

I dunno about the rest of you, but one of the best things about Velvet being the villain in Trolls Band Together is that there's no rhyme or reason why she's doing what she's doing. Velvet captured Floyd and tortured him for fame for zero reason other than her own selfishness.

In the scene where Velvet wear the shoulder pads for the first time, the filmmakers try to fool us into thinking that Velvet does these things because her and Veneer were poor when they were younger and just wanted more in life. But after that, as you all probably know, Veneer explains that they weren't poor at all, and actually lived in a good home in the suburbs with parents who had well-paying jobs, yet Velvet still continues to torture Floyd.

Nowadays every villain (especially kids' movie villains) have to have some sort of tragic backstory to explain why the villain is evil. But for Velvet there's nothing. She's just being evil for being evil, and on top of that she manipulates her twin brother into doing it with her while taking advantage of his love for her. For these reasons, this makes Velvet one of the best villains in history.

[grievedifferent]

❝ it's all everyone is talking about these days. kira this / kira that. i don't know, even i get tired of it, and my dad is a police officer. hm. what do you think of all this? pretty insane, right? ❞ — open ( yagami )

[wolfskrieger]

OPEN STARTER - Mutuals Only

"You're seeing things, I don't know why you completely thought you saw but there was definitely a softer landing there than you thought."

[crownshattered]

|| ….i made banging Grelle and Ciel playlists and now I already want to add them….

[fierydare]

hot rod's changes in attitude is so interesting in the show, especially when it comes to how others perceive him. of course, he genuinely is an extroverted, optimistic mech but he also exaggerates so much parts of himself. in the first half of the show, he likely does this because he has no real desire to actually be a leader. but you can see subtle clues that deep down he really is a responsible and smart mech, especially when it comes to his friends and companions. it's just easier for others to know him as a reckless, brave punk who only risks getting himself into danger. but once the quintesson arc hits, he reveals a lot of his truer, more vulnerable colors—but he also starts to find his place as a leader. after they've successfully defeated the quintessons, you see him revert back to how he acted before, which i find to be interesting. again, he genuinely is just a happy, friendly bot. but the difference is that he is helping to lead cybertron now, and that comes with high expectations. I think by his logic, if he messes up, it's easier to blame him as a fool than an outright failure.

[thagyann]

akihiko comes home with   WILD EYES      AND A        BLOODIED FACE CARRYING HUNGER  like a devil does death.      -     high off a fight with a girl’s boyfriend  he wants  god to punish him for the trespass .          and so he returns with two - faces             (         the lover burning under the ire of a man not fed )         and so  there are taunts lodged in the mutts mouth ,     years of rotting rolled into a running bet , asking when too long would come to pass .

 when your god is a man ,  your wants are larger than your own capabilities .     when your god is a man      you see when he slips to adore something else.  and so akihiko comes to see their home as an abyss ,      RUNNING    GAGS ON THE       PRINCIPLES   OF  LOVE  .  and he clenches his fists to         break himself down  but there is an overflow of every fault within himself.   the rage dribbles down to feed his sadness  to open doors to anguish.   and  it all  weighs so heavy he throws himself indoors with wild eyes and a bloodied face that hungers.

 akihiko is a man with a tongue tied on a single name.       he drowns declaring him a saint.   throat dried as it speaks his god in shapes of words :              HOLY IS HE WHO    SITS  BENEATH   YOUR      SKIN     EATING       YOU OPEN       FOR THE RUN OF   HIS DELIGHT .  it is a strange prayer that sits up against his nerves ,           darkening his resolve so  he throws himself  out    on    feet that  turn away in disgust

“     why         did      you        always leave    me behind -        for those other fuckers ??    what     is about it      that    makes   it    all alright ???“

akihiko  knows ,    OH HOW HE KNOWS HE WILL NEVER MEASURE UP TO THE MUSIC .     to the fact that it was created by ugestu and for him .        rather than he , who was made out of the coupling of his parents who wanted          him to carry their name forward.            and so he wants to destroy everything         between them .                    he breaks the corners off his family.    rolls drunk at the night ,           fucking anything that will compliment him ,           to see ugestu  falter as jealousy ticks his nerves           away from the music.           and    he comes into the house bloodied face and all hunger              - fist clenching as they grab the other’s shirt. 

“      i     wanna     break     you apart    (   @maqnolya​    ) -    put you in   small    bottles  because    i        lo  ………  “      

THE     WORDS       GO       MUM      AS        HE CRASHES      THEM    BOTH TO THE FLOOR .      mouth praying against  his scowling mouth,     dragging teeth to make you both one again.        you are   so rageful -    you fear to see your face knowing it would scare you off this right .      and so instead you put your hands    under his shirt ,    mouth finding his neck to break  your fast   on   all the holiness you had put in a man who never   wanted to be your god.      

[then9nth]

              which subtle way of saying "i love you" are you ?

✧ ✷ .・゜   " 𝗔𝗥𝗘 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗢𝗞𝗔𝗬 ? "           𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚌 𝚟𝚎𝚛 .

you wear your heart on your sleeve. you're probably the first to tell a person you love them in an unsubtle way -- because you love them, and they deserve to know it! maybe you're not entirely open about what you feel all the time (it depends on the situation and the person you're with) but you're generally comfortable around emotions. your own and others' - and you'll make sure to encourage the people you love to be honest about how they feel, too. you'll check in with them to make sure they're okay, and you know your closed-off loved ones well enough to check in with them again when they've assured you that yes, they're fine, don't worry. because guess what? you'll happily worry about them, and they'll get it in the end. your love is the healing type; you're patching up scars you might not even know exist.

✧ ✷ .・゜   " 𝗬𝗢𝗨'𝗥𝗘 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗘𝗫𝗖𝗘𝗣𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡 "           𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚌 𝚟𝚎𝚛 .

your emotional walls have walls. seriously, you've guarded yourself so well, you sometimes forget how to look over your own walls and see the beauty of the world outside the safety of the protection you've set up. you forget how to escape the confines you built for yourself, that is, but some people (some incredibly rare people) somehow know their way through that intricate maze of walls and thorns around you. they're the exception, and terrifying as it might be at first, you'll let them know eventually. you smile at them where you'd scowl at another. you crack a joke where you'd usually stay quiet. you find yourself opening up more than you'd ever imagined. don't tear your fortress down if you don't want to, but maybe try to build your loved ones a little home inside it instead. you don't have to be alone. you deserve better than being alone in there.

𝘁𝗮𝗴𝗴𝗲𝗱 𝗯𝘆 ; @gorekissed 𝘁𝗮𝗴𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗴 ; @pallorpyre @illholy @curesall @n1troxx @assassincraft

[tunemyart]

just binged my way through tiny beautiful things via the kathryn hahn imdb experience

wept

naturally checked to see if there is or ever was a season 2 in development, and very surprised to read that it was always a limited series?

[murdermade]

@harpershigh sent

From @harpershigh to Orin Verse 3 (redemption arc)

Jaheira’s hands moved slowly through Orin’s impossibly long hair, the soft brushstrokes feeling heavier with each pass. How had it come to this? The Chosen of Bhaal — Sarevok’s own granddaughter — sitting before her as if she was just some regular girl, while Jaheira, of all people, tended to her.

Bhaalspawn.

Murder incarnate.

Her enemy in every sense, and yet... Jaheira couldn’t shake the pull of something deeper, almost nostalgic.

She thought of Abdel Adrian, the man who had defied everything his blood had demanded of him. He had been a Bhaalspawn too, destined for a path of death and destruction, yet he had chosen life. He had chosen to rise above what was expected of him, and Jaheira had loved him for it. Deeply loved him. She looked at Orin now and wondered, could this woman — this undeniable threat — do the same? Was there more to her than what she had been born to be?

But as much as Jaheira wanted to believe in that possibility, doubt gnawed at her. Orin wasn’t just a risk to the camp; she was a danger to the world. It was foolish to hope. And yet, how could she not? After everything she’d seen, after everything she’d lost — hope was all she had left. Even if it was dangerous. Even if Orin could never escape what she was.

As Jaheira's fingers gently untangled Orin's hair, she couldn't help but wonder how much of this woman's life had been stolen by blood and violence. What kind of childhood had she endured, growing up under the shadow of Bhaal? The world had likely never shown her the simple joys, the warmth of love, or the peace of a carefree moment. Trauma had shaped her, robbed her of everything good life had to offer.

Sitting here, brushing her hair, Jaheira couldn’t see a murderer.

She saw a girl.

Perhaps lost, perhaps too far gone, but a girl nonetheless. A girl who had been denied the chance to become anything but a weapon.

Perhaps, just like Abdel, this girl could defy the darkness that had shaped her. Maybe standing by Orin, offering her a different path, was the right thing to do. After all, if Abdel could rise above his heritage, then perhaps Orin could too — if she chose it.

Hope.

It had the power to change everything, to lift the broken from despair and reshape the world for the better. But it could also destroy you, leading you down a path of false promises until there was nothing left but ruin. She had seen both outcomes too many times to count. Hope could be a dangerous thing, as much a blade as it was a shield. Still, she found herself hoping — fiercely, desperately — for the first outcome. But the fear of the second gnawed at her, a shadow she couldn't quite shake.

She could only hope.

Silence. The woman is unusually quiet. There are no insane ramblings or hissing or threats. Utter and complete silence as the woman works her way through her braids.

Her entire world has been flipped upside down. Bhaal had been everything to her and to be faced with not just the idea but the fact that he didn't care about her? She wants to crumble, she wants to break, she wants to scream and cry and stab things until she feels better.

Instead, she sits here, letting the druid brush through her hair. Showing her a kindness and a love that she has never had before. It feels motherly, in a way, and that thought alone makes her want to crumble.

How many years has she longed for love? How many years has she spent killing in the futile attempt to win her father's love and instead she had been met with nothing but silence. As if she'd be screaming into the void. Maybe she had been this entire time.

And here Jahiera is, giving her a love that seems so easy to give for the druid. Is it really that easy? She;'s tried to kill her and the party over and over and yet, she still shows her care.

Orin doesn't know how to handle it. A part of her wants to jerk away and hiss at her like some feral animal. A bigger, deeper part instead places her hands in her lap and allows the woman to tend to her long hair.

"I..." When she speaks, for the first time since Jahiera started, it is quiet. No longer the murderer she had been but instead the girl that Jahiera sees. A quiet hesitant voice. What does she even say? What does she do now? Where does she go from here?

"......I can brush my own hair." It sounds rather pathetic, a part of her is trying to push the woman away before she, too, can turn on her and yank that care away like some kind of thread meant to be snapped.

It's not what she really wants to say, though.

"I don't know where to go from here. Father never cared for me, did he?"

[taleswritten]

@myrkulsapxstle sent

A package and letter are delivered to Orin, the missive sealed with a symbol of Selûne and written in slightly heavy, yet deliberate hand:

Orin the Red,Best wishes for this year's Winter Solstice from both myself and the rest of the Thorm family here at Moonrise Towers. What remains of it, anyway. I trust you are well? I've yet to receive another letter from you -- though I cannot tell if that's simply because of the Couriers being delayed, or because you've grown weary of reading my ramblings in response. In either case, I should hope this is both on time and not too painful to read. As I reflect upon the last year, and our time together entrenched in divine schemes and away from them, I find myself proud of who you have become. Watching you turn from the Dread Lord's schemes and become who you desire to be has been nothing short of gratifying - and I hope you feel just as proud of yourself. You have done all the hard work, Orin. Take some time for yourself this season, would you? And do not forget that you are always welcome at Moonrise - as you are. I hope the package I've sent along with this missive meets your standards, and assists you in taking some time for yourself -- I will await your judgement.Yours, Father Ketheric

In the package, the box wrapped neatly in silver and reds, are some new metal hair decorations and clips ( can some of those hairpins function as weapons...? ) in a polished wooden box, cushioned by a greyish-blue blanket - soft and warm, and the perfect size for Orin to wrap around the whole of her body.

A small card gave details - the blanket was made of fleece, and came from the city of Cormyr, on request ( and upon the recievement of payment ) from one K. Thorm.

Happy Holidays!! // (post game companion ) Ketheric / @myrkulsapxstle to (redemption) Orin :3

The package and letter both find her with ease, though the poor courier gets quite a fight when Orin receives the letter and gift with a dagger in between her teeth, still coated in red.

Apparently opening the door while cleaning the dagger of blood is a terrible idea. He shoves it at her and runs away as fast as he can, leaving Orin to cackle with the dagger in between her teeth.

She goes back into her home to open the letter with her dagger and read it. Her heart warms as she reads it, especially when she reads the way he signs his name as 'father'.

The letter is wonderful and it makes her smile before she's turning to the box to open it with the dagger as well. She tries not to get blood on any of the items inside.

She tosses the dagger to the side and it lands with a clank as she shifts through the box. The hair clips are beautiful and she takes them out to tuck them in her hair. It feels right, too.

The blanket causes her eyes to light up in happiness and she throws it around herself. It's warm and fuzzy and she could sleep cuddled up in this thing but first....first she will write him back.

She gets off the floor with the blanket wrapped around her shoulders and moves to her desk where ink quill and paper await.

Dear Father,

Thank you for your gifts. This is the first time I've ever gotten a gift by someone I can call my father. It's....weird but not unwelcome. Once upon a time, I thought my heart cold and dead but it warms me to know you think of me as a daughter.

You are the father I never had. I hope you know that. Even with my inclination to lead little lambs to their death, you have always accepted me.

Thank you. I have attached something for you in turn, I hope you like it.

Your Daughter, Orin

Attached is a painting of his beloved wife. Someone she has studied to get just right. On the bottom of the paper, signed with her name, is a note.

Your wife would be proud of you, Father.

[starchanged]

What if... *Turns Penny into glitch trainer*