#𓅪 posts

[robinisnotavailable]

I think about Skyfire so much it’s probably bad for my health. If I was Starscream and I lost my gentle giant “science partner” with a deep soft voice I’d also go insane and want to murder everyone. That was kinda real of him

[salemontrial]

The most valid Wesper fanfics are the ones that make Jesper the biggest trophy husband in all of Ketterdam, it's what he deserves <3

[leftoverpages]

Loyalty’s embrace

Pairing 𓅪 Benjicot "Davos" Blackwood x betrothed!reader

Tags 𓅪 jealous and protective Benjicot, small fight scene (no gore), fluff at the end, romance, reader uses she/her but no physical description

Notes: i have been writing for a while without posting anything so this is making me nervous lmaooo

Wordcount 𓅪 1.3k

likes, comments, reblogs are much appreciated!

The grand ballroom of Blackwood Manor was awash with warm candlelight and the soft hum of conversation. The air was filled with the scent of roses and the clinking of crystal glasses. Lady Y/N stood at the edge of the room, a vision in her resplendent gown. Her dress, a masterpiece of crimson silk and midnight velvet, flowed around her like a river of fire and shadow. The bodice, embroidered with intricate patterns of gold thread, clung to her form, highlighting her grace and strength. Across her chest and shoulders, the Blackwood sigil was proudly displayed, a symbol of her new allegiance and her own fierce spirit.

The fabric shimmered in the candlelight, every movement sending ripples of light and shadow cascading over her. The skirt, full and layered, swirled around her feet like a tempest, the deep red contrasting beautifully with the inky black. A delicate gold chain rested at her throat, drawing attention to the elegant curve of her neck.

She stood there as her betrothed, Benjicot Blackwood, engaged in conversation with several lords and ladies. She found herself alone for the moment, sipping a glass of champagne and watching the festivities from afar.

Despite the grandeur, there was a nervous flutter in her stomach. Being betrothed to Benjicot, the fierce and enigmatic heir of House Blackwood, was both an honor and a daunting reality. Their engagement was more strategic than romantic, a union meant to strengthen alliances and secure power. Still, she had hoped to find some genuine connection with him, something to hold onto amidst the political machinations.

"Lady Y/N, you look ravishing tonight," a voice interrupted her thoughts. She turned to see Lord Cedric, a notorious flirt and known for his less-than-honorable intentions, standing far too close for comfort.

"Thank you, Lord Cedric," she replied, forcing a polite smile and taking a small step back.

He didn’t seem to notice—or care. "It's a shame you're tied down to Blackwood. A beauty like you deserves better," he said, his eyes raking all over her in a way that made her skin crawl.

"I am perfectly content with my betrothal, Lord Cedric," she replied firmly, trying to edge away. But Cedric persisted, moving closer, his hand reaching to touch her arm.

"Come now, Y/N, you can’t tell me you’ve never wondered what it would be like to be with someone else," he murmured, his breath hot against her ear.

Before she could respond, a strong hand gripped Cedric's wrist, pulling him away from her. "I believe the lady has made herself clear," Benjicot’s voice was low and dangerous, his dark eyes blazing with anger.

Cedric paled but tried to maintain his bravado. "I meant no harm, Blackwood. Just a bit of fun," he stammered, taking a step back.

Benjicot stepped between Cedric and Y/N, his posture tense and protective. "Your idea of fun is clearly misguided," he said coldly. "If I ever see you bothering her again, I will not be so forgiving."

Cedric sneered, his fear giving way to indignation. "And what will you do, Blackwood, uh? Throw me out of your pretty little ball?"

A dangerous glint appeared in Benjicot’s eyes. "No, Cedric. I’ll do much worse."

Before Cedric could react, Benjicot’s fist connected with his jaw, sending him staggering backward. The ballroom fell silent, guests suddenly turning to witness the confrontation. Cedric, recovering from the initial shock, lunged at Benjicot with a roar, swinging wildly.

Benjicot dodged, his movements controlled and precise. He landed another punch to Cedric's midsection, doubling him over. "You don’t know to quit, do you?" Benjicot muttered, grabbing Cedric by the collar and lifting him to his feet.

"Enough!" Cedric spat, struggling against Benjicot’s grip. "You think you can control everything? Even her?"

Benjicot’s eyes darkened further. "I don’t need to control her, Cedric. I trust her. Something you clearly don’t understand."

With that, Benjicot shoved Cedric away, causing him to stumble and fall to the ground. Cedric, breathing heavily and bruised, glared up at him. "This isn’t over, Blackwood."

"It is," Benjicot replied coldly. "And if you value your life, you’ll stay away from her."

Guards approached then, at Benjicot’s silent command, hauling Cedric to his feet and escorting him out of the ballroom. The guests slowly resumed their conversations, the tension dissipating, but whispers of the altercation lingered.

Benjicot turned to Y/N, his expression softening as he reached out to her. "Are you alright?" he asked, his voice gentle.

She nodded, but her composure faltered, and tears welled up in her eyes. "Thank you, Ben. I didn’t know what to do..."

He stepped closer, his hand tenderly cupping her cheek. "You never have to face such things alone. Not while I'm here."

Y/N looked up at him, searching his eyes for any hint of insincerity. Instead, she found a depth of concern and protectiveness that took her by surprise. She had always seen him as distant, a warrior hardened by duty, but now she glimpsed the man beneath the armor.

"Why do you care?" she asked softly, her voice trembling.

Benjicot sighed, running a hand through his dark hair. "I know our betrothal was arranged, but that doesn't mean I don't care for your well-being. I've come to admire your strength and grace, Y/N. I want us to be more than just a political alliance."

Her heart skipped a beat at his words. She had longed for some indication that he felt more than obligation towards her. "I want that too, Ben," she whispered.

He smiled then, a rare, genuine smile that made her heart flutter. "Then let's make it so," he said, taking her hand in his. "Together."

As they stood there, hand in hand amidst the glittering ballroom, Y/N felt a warmth spread through her.

Benjicot glanced around the room, the tension in his shoulders easing. He looked back at Y/N, his eyes filled with a tender resolve. "May I have this dance?" he asked, his voice soft and inviting.

Y/N felt her breath catch. She nodded, unable to speak, and he led her to the center of the ballroom. The musicians, sensing the moment, began to play a slow, melodic waltz.

As they took their positions, Benjicot's arm encircled her waist, his hand warm and steady. Her hand rested on his shoulder, and he guided her with a grace that belied his warrior's demeanor. They began to move, their steps perfectly in sync, the world around them fading into a blur of light and sound.

The music swirled around them, a symphony of emotions. They glided across the floor, each step a silent conversation. Y/N felt as if they were floating, the dance a magical respite from the political intrigue and uncertainty that had shadowed their engagement.

Benjicot's eyes never left hers, their dark depths reflecting a myriad of emotions. In that moment, she felt a warmth spread through her chest, a burgeoning hope that perhaps their union could be more than just a strategic alliance.

The music swelled, and Benjicot spun her gracefully, her dress flaring out like a crimson and black flower. When they came back together, he held her a little closer, his gaze softening even further.

"I meant what I said," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "I want us to be more than a political alliance. I want to know you, Y/N. To truly understand you."

She smiled, her heart fluttering with a mixture of nerves and excitement. "And I want to know you, Ben."

As the final notes of the waltz echoed through the ballroom, they came to a gentle stop. The guests around them erupted into applause, but Y/N and Benjicot remained in their own world, their gazes locked.

"Thank you for the dance," Y/N said softly.

Benjicot brought her hand to his lips, pressing a tender kiss to her knuckles. "The pleasure was mine," he replied.

In that moment, surrounded by the approving smiles of their peers, Y/N felt something shift. The alliance they had been forced into was beginning to transform into something real, something hopeful.

The future was uncertain, but for the first time, she felt truly seen and protected. And perhaps, just perhaps, they could find love in each other’s arms.

[virtualjpg]

shadow milk cookie tumblr layouts

Thanks for 210 likes on my last smc post :3

like, reblog && credit if using!

Credits : 𓅪 , 𓅪

Tagging : @duplitism , @starry-anarchy

The middle ones are just random ones

&& they weren't meant to be added

[tidemoonchild]

WHY IS EVERYONE SCREAMING?

LITERALLY just post stuff on you main blof instead of making a thousand sideblogs for it. That‘s the devil speaking in your ear

YES BUT WHAT IF THE MUTUALS DISLIKE THE CONTENT??? THEN I WILL BE SAD!

[albatmobile]

✰ 18+ only beyond this point ✰ MDNI

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[camelliachord]

INTRO POST

🍵 Hey!! we're the host 𓅪 and cohost ⸙ of the forest system ! 🍵 body age 22 𓅪 row 22 ⸙ kip 16-18 🍵 pronouns: 𓅪 row he/it/ae ⸙ kip he/ae/they 🍵 𓅪 row aroace gay ⸙ kip aroace bi questioning 🍵 audhd, did system and physically disabled

ABOUT THIS BLOG

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[rewildingmybrain]

Intro post 𓆈

𓆝 𓆜 𓆞 𓆝 𓆜 𓆞 𓆝 𓆜 𓆞

G'day. I'm Teia (te-a), I'm a first year conservation biology student from Western Australia. I post about conservation, plants, art, nature, and anything relating to creating my dream life.

I'm dyslexic so please bear that in mind when reading my posts, that there will be spelling and grammar errors.

Tags

𓅪 #rebookingmybrain - book posts

𓆏 #replantingmybrain - Plant post

[qihuaque]

Qiqi has no idea what a “wubbaboo” is. She does know, however, that in this foreign space station, there are no herbs to be found. Absolutely none at all. Dr. Baizhu should never have sent her on this trip, because if there really are herbs, they are not going to be wild ones, and there’s no point in finding artificially-grown ones when there’s enough technology back home to develop it themselves (Dr. Baizhu’s words, not hers). Despite her best efforts, in the last hour, the only greenery she’s seen are those of the leaves of fake houseplants and the spines of books in what appeared to be a library she passed by. Back to the new issue at hand. Dr Baizhu had been muttering something about “legalities”, the specifics of which she was uncertain about. However, it would be good to not get into trouble in a strange land, so she tries to sound unassuming and not-threatening as she says, “This one…is not a wubba…wubbaboo. This one is Qiqi. Qiqi does not know what a Ruan Mei is. Qiqi is a jiangshi. Qiqi collects herbs for Bubu Pharmacy.” To prove her point, she reaches into her backpack (because apparently baskets aren’t good in zero-gravity situations, whatever that means) and pulls out a spare Violetgrass flower, holding it out to the strange girl with pink hair and wide eyes. “Eat it. Good for your health.”

　　` ❅ ◞　ooOOoOOoh.

　 　❛　bloom : who you gonna call?　╱　march 7th & qiqi

[tinyarsonist]

Hey coming to ask would you do a part 2 or a series of volume???

Hi hi! I'm currently writing part 2 and considering a third part!

Work has been crazy so it's taking a lot longer than I'd like to post but it should be out soon! 𓅪

[salemontrial]

I know the following is likely very small but I am choosing to elect Kaz x Wylan's ship name as Demolition Lovers.

[bunnakit]

The Lyrebird King - Chapter 3

(before we get into the last chapter i have prepped i just wanna give the biggest thank you to @lukaherehelp - i've been writing this novel since roughly the beginning of the year and recently slowed WAY down on writing it because there just didn't seem to be an interest and it's hard to want to keep writing if there are no readers. luka motivated me to post this here and i've cherished every reaction and tag so much, it made me love my boys again.)

Caius was not accustomed to the days passing in a blur as they had been. Aries brought an energy to the stagnant ruins that he hadn’t anticipated; the man practically breathed life into the cold cobblestones and worn brick. He’d insisted they clean things up, turn it into a proper living space for them both, and Caius was unable to refuse a sensible request. 

The first few days were spent clearing a cell for Aries (arguably a waste of time for how little he actually slept in it,) as well as craft a pair of makeshift doors for their respective rooms. Next, came the task of creating a pantry and a kitchen. Together, they managed to cobble together a proper stove and oven as well as a relatively weather proofed larder that filled over the coming days.

Throughout it all, Caius was constantly surprised by Aries’ ingenuity and craftsmanship. The man did not hesitate to launch into various projects, obtaining supplies from the surface and creating whatever they needed to suit their needs. It seemed those scarred hands of his were good for far more than grasping lovers and beating opponents. 

Their days were spent close together and Caius was forced to become familiar with sharing the company of another body day in and day out. He found he didn’t hate it, at least not when it was Aries with his affable smiles and easy going nature. He was not unlike a loyal pup, all boundless energy and eagerness to please. It was a personality that he would have previously found grating but now he thought of it as endearing. 

“You know, there’s a lot of space here. Feels empty sometimes, doesn’t it?” Aries spoke up one night over dinner; a simple stew they’d let brew in a cast iron pot and some wine pilfered from a vendor in the market that liked to mark up his prices three times more than what the product was worth. That had been news to Caius, but Aries had pointed out the vintner of the wine and the cost at other vendors. He was sensible with his coin like that and Caius couldn’t help but respect him all the more for it. 

“I suppose. More full now than before.” Caius gestured with his glass in Aries’ direction before pushing his now-empty bowl aside and kicking his feet up on one of the wobbly stools across the table (not one of Aries’ make, he never would have allowed the wobble to persist.) 

“Maybe to a recluse like you. You do know human company is good for you, don’t you?” Aries smiled but there was no barb to his words, only gentle teasing. It had taken a while for Caius to get used to it but he found he quite liked the easy camaraderie between them now. 

“So you say,” he snorted and lifted his glass to take a sip, certain the ruby color of the wine was staining his lips if the way Aries’ eye following the motion was any indication. “Are you alluding to something?” He couldn’t help but wonder if this was an invitation to his bed for the night, or perhaps a hint at inviting more into their little pocket of safety - something Caius would rather die than let happen.

“S’pose not, just an observation.” Aries hummed in response and the subject dropped there for the foreseeable future. 

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘𓅪∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Aries wasn’t entirely incorrect. Human company was good, though Caius could only truly tolerate the company of two people by design - Aries and his beloved mother. It’d been months since he’d been able to get away and spend time with her and the anxiety that brought him must have shown. He was restless, irritable, and bereft of any drive or goal. This attitude lasted several days before Aries finally pulled him aside, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear in that way that was so caring and so confusing to Caius. 

“Listen, I don’t know what’s gotten into you but it’s clear something is festering under your skin. Go take care of it, the ruins are safe with me.” He promised and Caius was powerless to refuse. His mind tormented him in a way that was unique, a way only his mother could soothe, and so like a moth to a flame he drifted from the ruins and traveled far beyond the boundaries of Larkfield. 

He always knew how to find her despite the nature of her home; once their home. He walked along common roads and paths for days before slipping into a nondescript forest, a flash of rich cerulean cloth tied to a high branch the only indicator that he was in the correct place. He kept his steps quiet and measured, the glow of a large campfire finally breaking through the din of the dense forest and bringing a sense of comfort to his breast. Caius slipped through the treeline, hood high and steps sure, and came to stand beside several figures gathered around the beckoning fire. 

“Evening, gentlemen.” He spoke up during a lull of conversation, grinning beneath his cowl at the way each person jumped at the sound of his voice. 

“Lucien! Gods alive, you really have to stop doing that.” A brawny man covered from head to toe in various tattoos laughed loud and free from deep in his belly. He had missed that sound far more than he ever thought he would.

“Now where would the fun in that be?” He grinned and let his hood fall away just as the color of his hair and face drained away. He only felt comfortable dropping the facade here, among the people that had known him since birth. His once fair skin faded away to a pale slate gray and his hair stripped away to a brilliant white while the white of his eyes bled away to black. Where the enigmatic Caius had once been now stood a statuesque facsimile of a person with no remarkable features; a blank slate. 

“Is your mother expecting you?” A young woman spoke from across the fire, seemingly unperturbed by the eerie metamorphosis that had just taken place in the span of seconds. 

“No, thought I’d surprise her.” Once Caius, now Lucien, chuckled as they let their cloak fall away completely before rolling up the sleeves of their shirt to alleviate some of the heat from the fire. Streaks of shimmering gold littered their skin, long healed scars left behind from acts of hubris and bravery alike. 

“She’ll be delighted to see you, we set her up just beyond the cook’s cart.” A grizzled looking man spoke as he tossed a few twigs into the fire. “She’s not with anyone at the moment so you’re good.” He winked and Lucien could only smile fondly at the assurance. 

“Wonderful. I’ll catch up with you all later.” Lucien turned and made their way through the camp with a wave over their shoulder. They walked the line of various carts, each marked with a crude symbol to designate their purpose: the tattoo artist, the apothecary, the jeweler, a general shop, the cook, and the fortune teller. They stopped at this one, smiling at the indigo drapery dotted with constellations as they pushed past the beads in the doorway and found comfort in the way they clicked and clattered just as they had in their memories. 

“Ma?” They called before entering the main space of the cart, a smile breaking over their face at the sight of their mother gently sorting through a stack of cards. “Hi.” They whispered almost like a child, and somehow they always felt a little like one whenever they came home. 

“Lucien!” Their mother, Astrid, beamed from the little circle of cushions she’d been sitting in. She rose in a swirl of tassels, skirts, and wavy brown hair. Her arms instantly crushed them to her chest and her lips wasted no time in pressing to their temple. They melted into the embrace, the gnawing and rushing thoughts that had risen to a horrible crescendo of anxiety fading away with each inhale of her familiar scent. Incense and herbs and home.

“How have you been, my darling?” Astrid asked as she pulled away, one hand lingering on their shoulders as the other pinched their chin and turned their face this way and that. It was a familiar song and dance - Lucien pretended they weren’t routinely putting theirself in mortal danger and Astrid inspected them closely each time they returned to the caravan. 

“Fine, busy.” They finally tugged their chin away and led their mother back to the cushions. They urged her to sit before moving to the tiny stove where they put the kettle on to boil. 

“You’ve been busy since the day you were born, that doesn’t tell me anything.” She held up her empty cup when they turned and they took it from her to refill once the water was ready. “I heard about Sir Reinald.”

“Did you?” Lucien answered noncommittally and lifted a random tin of leaves to their nose. Their face scrunched at the scent and they hastily set it aside before grabbing another and repeating the action. 

“Mm, seems a little hero made sure his crimes were exposed to all of Larkfield.” They could sense the knowing smile she directed at their back. 

“Perhaps not a hero but a fool.” They muttered, pinching the leaves into the cups. It’d been a long time since they’d done a reading. 

“Oh, shush now. Doing what is right is never foolish, Lucien. I just hope they’re being careful and don’t get caught.” She raised her brow and they were instantly five years old, clutching a stolen trinket and wallowing in their mother’s disappointment. 

“I’m sure they are.” Lucien replied, watching the leaves swirl violently as they poured in the scalding water. “Rumor has it they have help now.” 

“Oh?” Astrid perked up, practically sitting on her knees, and they were reminded of how very young their mother was. She’d only been freshly in her fifteenth year when she gave birth to them, just a child herself and newly welcomed to this very band of merchants and performers. They’d grown together in a strange way and perhaps that was a large factor in how they’d found themselves considering their own mother as their dearest friend. 

“Mm. Word is they’ve met a brawler type, good with their hands and thus far loyal.” Lucien joined Astrid at the low table and set a cup in front of her while cradling their own between their palms, swiping their thumb over the chipped handle. 

“Thus far? Do they think he’ll betray them?” She wondered as she dropped a few cubes of sugar among the soggy leaves. Her dark eyes were too knowing, too piercing, and they were forced to look away and into their own drink. 

“People will always betray you,” They spoke to their own sepia reflection as Astrid dropped three cubes into their tea. “Ma don’t waste-” 

“Shush. Has this man given them any reason to suspect a betrayal?” She wondered as she stirred her drink with the tiniest spoon Lucien had ever seen, and yet somehow it looked perfectly in place in their mother’s dainty, manicured hands. 

“Not yet, but it will come.” They simply swirled the cup a few times before deeming it mixed enough to take a sip. They avoided their mother’s eyes until she tucked a finger beneath their chin and drew their gaze towards her. 

“Lucien, some people are simply good and you must let them be.” She smiled fondly as her thumb swiped at the corner of their pale lips, just over where they were bisected with a golden scar. “Do you consider me a traitor?”

“Of course not but you’re the exception, not the rule.” They shook their head and squeezed the cup between their palms. 

“Oh, my darling. I know the world has been cruel but it is not inherently so. You can’t turn your back on the good for fear of the bad.” 

“Am I meant to turn my back to the bad so it may stab me when I least expect?” 

Astrid groaned, clearly exasperated with a conversation they’d had many, many times before. 

“You know that is not what I’m saying, you’re being obtuse on purpose,” she chided and gently slapped their knee. Lucien couldn’t help but smile in the face of her fond frustration. “Stay vigilant, but stay kind. Kindness is not weakness, Lucien, I know you know this.” 

“I do,” they acquiesced and took a long, calming sip of the almost-too-sweet tea. “Their new ally… I have heard he is kind. He smiles often and with his whole heart.” They confessed, voice nearly a whisper. 

“And he’s good to them?” She asked, once again far too perceptive for her own good. 

“Far too kind. He is a fool who will someday find himself in a snare.” Lucien ran their thumb over the chipped handle again. 

“Then I hope the hero protects him. Family is important, whether it’s one you’re born into or one you build.” Astrid applied the slightest pressure to their knee, a reassuring squeeze that was both comfort and warning. “What do the leaves say?” 

Lucien drained the remaining liquid from the cup and set it on the crowded table in front of them, careful not to topple any of the stacks of cards. The dregs formed the vague shape of a kite, hovering just near the lip of the mug. 

“Quite the reading, hero.” Astrid smiled and they did not miss the way she tucked her own mug to the side, a clear shape of a cross settled at the bottom. 

Lucien had never put much stake in leaf readings anyway.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘𓅪∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Lucien didn’t stay long, just a single evening surrounded by family and friends from long ago. They all filled their bellies with food and drink and shared stories around the fire until the morning light crept through the thick canopy above. With the light of dawn they crept away to make their leave, effectively avoiding the discomfort of saying goodbye as most were now asleep. Shrugging on both the cloak and his identity, Caius returned to the ruins within a matter of days. 

Where he normally found comfort in the hollow echo of his steps down the winding stairs he found only unease. He could not hear Aries within the halls, could not hear the way his heavy steps or groans of frustration projected his presence, despite the lit torches that indicated he was here. There was no friendly greeting or immediate questions of his day, only a cloying silence that put Caius on edge. 

Slowly, he made his way towards their makeshift bedrooms, ignoring his own door for the one propped open beside it. He carefully nudged the wood to swing just a fraction of an inch, just enough so he could see inside, and the sight twisted his gut and had him swallowing a snarl. Aries sat beside his own bed, half asleep with a damp cloth in hand. A figure Caius did not know slept in the bed, too pale and too small. 

This time, he deliberately shoved the door to ensure it would squeak and announce his presence in the archway. Sure enough Aries lifted his head with a startle, alarm and guilt immediately evident in his eyes. Good. 

“Aries.” Caius lifted a brow and leaned his shoulder against the entryway with a calmness he did not feel. Barely contained rage rippled beneath his skin but he would at the very least allow his companion to explain himself, no matter how shoddy the excuse may prove to be. 

“Cai,” Aries spoke softly and rose from his chair. He spared a glance back at the figure sleeping on the bed and Caius sunk his nails into his own palms, only just stopping himself from grabbing Aries and demanding he look at him. He was the danger here, not the slumbering interloper. “Please let me explain.” He implored, warm hand coming to rest on Caius’ shoulder as he coaxed him out of the room. 

“Then explain.” Caius wasted no words as he crossed his arms over his chest and widened his stance. He had only allowed himself to be maneuvered just outside the door where they could offer the stranger a poor attempt at peace. 

“He was caught stealing in the market today. The guard thought they’d use him for their usual games,” Aries said the word with a sneer and it painted a vivid picture in Caius’ mind. He knew what cruel games the guards liked to play, the way they would beat and break and crush their captives beneath their heels. “He’s just a boy, Cai, I couldn’t leave him in the street and no one even took the time to look at him.” Gods damn Aries’ gentle, bleeding heart. 

Caius took a moment to assess the situation, closing his eyes and drawing in a number of slow and measured breaths. He lifted a hand and swiped it from his temples to his jaw, massaging pressure points all the way. 

“Cai?” Aries spoke softly, tenderly, in that way he usually reserved for when they were tangled in bed and he was trying to urge Caius to stay. 

“It’s fine. I understand why you did it.” He wasn’t sure if he would have made the same choice, and he hated himself a little for it. “How long has he been here?” 

“Since yesterday afternoon. He only woke up once but he was pretty out of it, they hit his head pretty hard.” Aries explained and Caius watched as his shoulders dropped and the crease between his brows lessened. It was good that he knew the severity of what he’d done. 

“And I assume you’ve been with him all the while. Go to my quarters and get some rest, I’ll take over.” Caius waved him away and took a step in the direction of Aries’ room only to halt at a gentle tug on his elbow. 

“You just got back, you need to rest too.” Aries insisted, the crease returning but this time in concern. 

“I’m fine.” Caius carefully removed the grasp around his arm. “I’m quite rested after my visit. Sleep, Aries. I can spare a few hours to tend to your impromptu patient.” 

Aries hesitated just a moment and Caius could see each thought, each doubt, flicker across his face before it settled into quiet resignation. 

“Alright, but come get me whenever you feel tired.” He only nodded before continuing into Aries’ quarters. Now that shock and anger were no longer waging a battle in his stomach he could take a long look at the boy in the bed. 

He couldn’t be more than sixteen, his skin bruised and sallow and his dark hair wiry and unkempt. His features were different and yet so similar Caius could almost see the ghost of an old friend in front of him and it brought him up short. He froze, hand hovering just above the boy’s brow. A tremble ran through his body before he blinked it away and snatched the cold cloth.

He turned his back to the bed and dipped the cloth in a basin of water beside the bed, squeezing the excess water with mechanical movements. He was grateful when he turned around and no longer saw a memory but a stranger. Gently, he set the cloth on the boy’s forehead and allowed himself to relax into the well-crafted chair beside the bed where he slowly relaxed, loose limbed and exhausted both emotionally and physically. 

Aries wouldn’t wake for several hours but when he entered the room Caius instantly glanced up. The boy was sitting up on the bed, picking at a platter of various different foods and sipping at a mug of tea. He looked better; color had returned to his cheeks and his various bandages were neat and clean. 

“Was I out long?” Aries asked, voice still rough with the remnants of sleep. 

“Not terribly, Thorn woke just a bit ago.” Caius replied, watching from the corner of his eye as the name brought a smile to the boy’s face. 

“Your name is Thorn?” Aries wondered as he came to stand just behind the wooden chair, his large palm resting against Caius’ shoulder naturally. With anyone else, he would have found it oppressive and annoying. He despised the way it felt like comfort. 

“It is now.” Caius answered when the boy seemed too shy, shrinking in on himself slightly. “Will you be alright if I speak with my friend for a moment?” 

Thorn nodded eagerly and shoved another piece of food in his mouth, though he was careful not to eat too quickly and risk upsetting his fragile stomach. Caius offered him the best smile he could and hoped it came across as comforting and approving. He stood and led Aries just outside the door to the very spot they’d stood hours ago. 

“He’s staying,” he announced with no preamble and ignored the way Aries’ eyebrows rose dramatically. “And so is anyone else that may need it. You were right, this space is empty, we could do with some company.” 

“Caius, are you serious?” Aries wondered and Caius couldn’t help but give a genuine smile at the hope in his voice. 

“I am. The world is cruel but that does not mean we have to be. We can provide safety and shelter to those who need it. Thorn has the makings of an excellent pickpocket, stole my own keys right out from under me when I was changing his bandages. We can give him a home and a place to hone his skills.” He shrugged as if his thought process was very simple. It sounded selfless in practice, far more selfless than he was capable of being, and that was because it was not. It would just be another means to an end, transactional as all things in life were. 

He couldn’t help but wonder if he was any better than the very people he killed.

“You’re doing a good thing, Cai. We can help a lot of people with this, a lot of people like us.” Aries gestured between the two of them and the door, “People cast out and forgotten by society, people othered in the eyes of the nobility or their peers.” 

“Emphasis on the we. You will be helping me, Aries.” Caius watched none of Aries’ excitement waver. 

“Of course I will be, we’re partners, hm?” 

“Yes, I suppose we are.” 

[entry-85]

𓅪 • Introduction

➢ My name is Ezekiel/Zeke, I am 18 years old and a writer/artist/editor. I started this blog to focus around my current hyperfixation on Marble Hornets + CRP, and post HC, Drabbles, and OC content. I am interested in making friends and mutuals, so feel free to message me. I have more information, including my other social medias, on my carrd.

➢ My writing tag is zekerwrites, and my edit tag is zekeredits. If you want to find all my posts quickly and easily, go there!

➢ I also draw, if you're interested in seeing that, my art blog is @totheark85

Characters I Write For

𓅪 • Eyeless Jack/Jack Nichols

𓅪 • Jeff The Killer/Jeffery Woods

𓅪 • Ticci Toby/Toby Rogers

𓅪 • Homicidal Liu/Liu Woods

𓅪 • Jane The Killer/Jane Richardson

𓅪 • Clockwork/Natalie Ouellette

𓅪 • Tim Wright/Masky

𓅪 • Brian Thomas/Hoodie

𓅪 • Jay Merrick

𓅪 • Alex Kralie

What I Will Write 🗹

𓅪 • Relationship Headcanons (Ship & X Reader Included)

𓅪 • NSFW Themes

𓅪 • Blood and Gore Themes

𓅪 • Drug and Alcohol Themes

𓅪 • Trauma Responses/Trauma In General

𓅪 • Healthy and Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms

𓅪 • LGBT and Straight Relationships

𓅪 • Self Harm and Suicidality (I will NOT romanticize these themes, please do not request something meant to romanticize these topics.)

𓅪 • Etc!

What I Will NOT Write 🗷

𓅪 • Anything Involving NSFW With A Minor

𓅪 • Rape/Non-Consentual Acts

Don't be afraid to request things!

[ikeuz]

UPDATED TAGS

𓂃⟢ 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐞𝐬 ! — my mooties & nonies ! <3

𓂋 𓐄 ˒ ‎꒰ __ nonie ! ꒱ — asks from my anonies <3

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��� 𓂃 dear diary: 𓎩 — chisme time, rants, random posts, etc etc !

🎧 𓏳 𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐚’𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 .ᐟ

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𓂋 ⸝⸝ : lena plays ! 🎮 — games ! ask games, tag games, all games <3

✳︎ 𓐄 𓏸 lena is gone ! 🪦 — queued posts !

[minksomnia]

𓅪 Hello everyone!

I'm Minksomnia, you can call me Somnia or Mink or whatever floats your boat. I'm an artist, I don't know what kind but I strive to be a concept artist in the future, but so far I've been doing creature designs on my own and worldbuilding for my little brain to play with.

I'm pretty much chill about the whole thing so if you want to talk about worldbuilding, biology, or any other topics that you are comfortable with, I'm down for it.

Also I like coffee ☕️ which keeps my sleepiness at bay (fun fact: it's not effective at all.)

If you're interested in my art, just check the [#minksomnia] tag. I'll try to post after every few days since I'm pretty busy with other stuff. But hey, that's life.

Here's a fun fact about Cassowaries:

[fragile-cosmos]

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✝﹔⟡ ݁₊ . ⚚ ⁷⁷⁷ ⛧°. ⋆༺♱༻⋆. °⛧ ⁷⁷⁷ ⚚ . ₊ ݁ ⟡﹔✝

✶┊ Fragile Cosmos⁷⁷⁷

⋆⭒˚｡⋆ ✧ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡ ◯ ☽ ◑ ● ◐ ❨ ◯ ｡☁︎ﾟ｡⋆ ✧ ⋆｡˚⭒⋆

  ▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊

┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ˚✩ ⋆｡˚ ✩

┊ ┊ ┊ ✫

┊ ┊ ︎✧.                      

┊ ┊ ✯.                                

┊ . ˚ ˚✩                                

││• I'm Evren♡

││• They/He/She

││• South American

││• Taurus☼ Aquarius☾ Aquarius↑

││• Living in my own little world

││• Lover of the Arts

││• English (lvl. B2?) & Spanish (native)

││• For my likes: @a-heart-like-a-sparrow

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

────────────────── ❨ ₊⊹

──────────────────────

─────── - ̗̀✍︎ Favorites

⛧| Animals: Cats - Lambs - Swans

⛧| Season: Autumn

⛧| Colours: Anything but orange

⛧| Visual Artists: Mako Vice - Takato Yamamoto - John William Waterhouse - Claude Monet

⛧| Art Styles: Art Nouveau - Ero-Guro - Impressionism - Pre-Raphaelite

⛧| Music Artists: Hope Sandoval - MARINA - Ethel Cain - Cocteau Twins

⛧| Shows: Regular Show - Heartstopper - EverymanHYBRID

⛧| Books: The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue (V.E. Schwab) - The Picture of Dorian Gray (Oscar Wilde) - Anything by Alice Oseman

⛧| Aesthetics: Morute - Romantic Goth - Soft Grunge - Trailer Park Princess/Trashy Coquette - Webcore - Weirdcore - Whimsigothic - etc. etc. etc.

𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘᠂ ⚘᠂ ⚘᠃ 𓇗𓇗𓇗𓇗𓇗𓇗𓇗

──── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *. Interests .* :☆ﾟ｡ ･ ────

Horror, music, philosophers, cold weapons, the 90s, the 2000s, Mazzy Star, Cartoon Network, the Slenderverse, history, maybe some anime, fashion, sometimes math, shoegaze, crystals, perfumes, literature, the internet, old Disney, christianity

────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *. ☽ .* :☆ﾟ｡ ･ ──────

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡° DNI

╭───────────────── 𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋,♫,♪

┊Generally hateful people in some way

┊Anti-LGBTQIA+

┊Misoginy/Sexism

┊NSFW blogs (what'll u find here anyway?)

┊Paedophilia (MAP, NOMAP, etc.)

┊Neonazis

┊Accused of stealing posts (u scare me)

╰─────────────────  𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋,♫,♪

⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆  ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

┊ ⋆ ┊   .   ┊   ┊

┊    ┊⋆     ┊   .

┊    ┊       ⋆˚              

✧. ┊                  Tags Guide

⋆ ★

#fragile cosmos - Online name. Personal tag. It'd be nice if you didn't use it.

#evrencore - The name of my general vibe. Placeholder. Send ideas, please.

#777 - My favourite number. Everything is better when it's 7.

#not mine - Compilations of pictures. Usually from Pinterest.

#mine - Self explanatory. Collages and original photos/videos. Could still have external material.

#💿 - Child of the Internet/Shopkeeper's Daughter. For the nostalgia, the technology, and the retro vibes.

#🪐 - Sibling of the Stars. For the whimsical, mystical, and twinkly thingies.

#🌸 - Sick Lamb/Rotten Butterfly. For the vintage, feminine, depressing look.

#👁 - Freak Next Door. For the weird and scary shit.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆

˚̣̣̣ ꒷︶†︶꒷˚̣̣̣︶ ͡𑁬♱໒ ͡ ︶˚̣̣̣꒷︶†︶꒷ ˚̣̣̣

Go find me!

✝﹔⟡ ݁₊ . ⚚ ⁷⁷⁷ ⛧°. ⋆༺♱༻⋆. °⛧ ⁷⁷⁷ ⚚ . ₊ ݁ ⟡﹔✝

Pinterest

Instagram

Spotify

Welcome :)

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷ ☽𓆩♱𓆪.˳·˖✶𓆩𓁺𓆪✶˖·˳.𓆩♱𓆪❨ ꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃ 𓇗᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃ 𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧

✝✝✝ ❀ ₊•.°.⋆✮⋆.°.•₊ 𓅪 ₊•.°.⋆✮⋆.°.•₊ ❀ ✝✝✝