#Seas and sonnets

[taocc-updates]

Taocc jackbox session 2: the Isaac-ening

I had to crop so much for this help me

[perhaps-in-anotherdream]

【CN】 Victor’s solo event PV (subtitled)

Karmas: here!

🌊 Ocean’s Border 🌊

💕 Between your loving gazes, every moment is dyed with incomparable loveliness.

— “Every appearance of mine is held within the light of your most beautiful eyes.”✨❤️

─────

[botan-kiri]

The Sun

He shines like the sun for he brings freedom Joyful as he may be he has lost too Once friends he will protect your kind kingdom Loves dreams will encourage you too pursue

A glutton but will share with the whole world To liberate with the beat of the drums Silly as can be, laughing is a whirl Being gum, pirate king when the time comes

Three brothers drink sake, one lost other gone The top hat shot down by a cruel monster The ace of cards sacrificed like a pawn On island guarded by a sea-monster

To be forever young, flying in the clouds Draws people in with the light he enshrouds

[academyoftheheartandmind]

Ocean Poems

By James G. Piatt The Seashore “For whatever we lose (like a you or a me), it’s always ourselves we find in the sea.” e.e. cummings The soft sandy shore, spreading like a dusty yellow carpet reflected the sun’s warm rays onto my bare shoulders as the morning melted into the balminess of noon, causing long forgotten briny memories to appear. Bones of ocean creatures bleached to a pure…

[taocc-updates]

Simon Makes Some Bad Decisions - Character Post

Precircus Name: Simon Mallory Circus Name: Silhouette Secondary Alias: Aleksander (Given and always used by Yelena) Gender: Male (he/him) Species: Shadow Man, Human Origin Titles: Silhouette Anon Powers: Teleportation via shadows, minor shapeshifting, telepathy maybe, otherwise unspecified Skills and other notes: Excellent manipulator, very fancy, uses a gun as his preferred weapon. Good at poetry, likes to read. Redeemed villain, and has more than paid for his crimes, seeing as the circus…is how it is. Can perfectly mimic voices. Partner: Yelena Best friends: Mix and Carbine Sisters: Alice Mallory, Alpenglow (adoptive) Enemies: Sun, Zachariah Woods, Kopi “It’s complicated”: Zombie Murder victim: Zachariah Woods Ex: Mix Mod: Mod Soup (@silhouette-anon) Art credits: Soup

Precircus Name: Isaac Brennan Circus Name: Mix Gender: Transmasc (he/him) Species: Butterfly Humanoid, Human Origin Titles: Bartender Powers: Supernaturally pain tolerance. Skills and other notes: Incredibly anxious. Terrified of guns. Excellent at mixology. His skin is made of something like glass. Gets distracted by flowers. The butterfly thing is a side effect from a reversed abstraction. Partner: Carbine Best friends: Silhouette, Yelena Friends: Dusk, Sun Adoptive Daughter/Sister (it’s unclear): Elida Doyle Enemies: Kopi Exes: Drunk Anon, Silhouette Mod: @sh4tt3rg1rl (Xeya/Basil/Xeyshattersiltav1a) Art credits: Basil, Elsewhere (respectively) Design note: His current design is currently being worked on, so instead you get OG mix and my whiteboard doodle. This will be changed.

Name: Yelena Gender: Female (she/her) Species: Loch Dragoness/pseudo-mermaid, Human Origin Titles: Spellcaster, Healer, “Mermaid”. Powers: Water manipulation, limited shapeshifting (including wings), spellcasting (healing magic specifically), able to summon a trident-staff, water-breathing, otherwise unspecified. Skills and other notes: She’s something of a singer, and was a professional mermaid while human. Ukrainian. Enjoys books and poetry. Partner: Silhouette (she calls him Aleksander) Best friends: Carbine, Mix Mentor: Lady Guinevere Enemies: Kopi Exes: Charles (presumed deceased), three other unnamed guys. Only her relationship with Charlie was healthy and ended on good terms. Mod: @the-moth-from-elsewhere Art credits: All of these are Picrews. She does not currently have a reference image.

Name: Carbine Real name: Nikolai Gender: Male (he/him) Species: GUN- /j. I think he’s some kind of code being. Unknown origin. Titles: None Powers: Dev Console Shenanigans (“The Terminal”) Skills and other notes: Russian. Owns silhouette’s soul. Unclear Origin. Partner: Mix Best friends: Yelena, Silhouette Brother: Artemis/Kepler Enemies: Kopi, Kepler Mod: @master-dealmaker Art credits: Soup and blepxiee, respectively

Precircus Name: Zachariah Woods Circus name: Zombie Gender: Male (he/him) Species: Zombie. The floor here is made of floor. Human origin. Titles: Deputy, Zombie Anon Powers: Gun. Skills and other notes: Excellent at shooting, doesn’t remember himself before the circus. Does NOT know why people are so terrified of him all the time. So sick and tired of the circus chaos. Partner: Skeleton anon Murderer: Silhouette Mod: Soup Art credits: Soup

Name: Alice Mallory Gender: Female (she/her) Species: Human, not digital Titles: none Powers: None Skills and other notes: Aspiring writer and artist. Went missing years ago. There is a theory that she and Northa are the same person, but nobody truly knows. Assumed dead. Brother: Silhouette Best friend: ElidaMod: Soup Art Credits: Soup

Name: Elida Doyle Gender: Female (she/her) Species: Human child, not digital. Titles: Deceased Powers: None Skills and other notes: Talented ballerina. Died when she and Mix got in a car crash. Adoptive Family: Mix Mother: Lilith Doyle Best friend: Alice Mod: @/sh4tterg1rl Art credits: @/sh4tterg1rl

[eironeiakaielenkhos]

Childe Hradwin’s Sojourns, Canto the First, XXII

[taocc-updates]

No plans here!

Emotional support deities. Plus catgirl. They’re definitely not planning anything. I promise.

[rael-f-wae]

"I've heard a tale that's told upon the sea, by sailors, and all other seaborne sorts, and which, before my henceforth telling thee, already made the rounds of every port. There was a witch, who roved the ocean's floor, for that she could not breathe the wholesome air nor set a single toe upon the shore; and this her sunken fate seemed most unfair. One day she spied a lusty seaborne prince while peering from the cave in which she dwelt, and by his beauty was at last convinced that something must be done, or she would melt for love of him, and join the ocean's blue; to make him hers, she anything would do."

index | next

[talesindawn]

Heart Waves

Heart. A necklace forever lost at sea 

With ruffled feathered wings of paper and ink.

Thoughts, regrets, drag me to the endless brink

Of this deep ocean. I drown, I am free. 

For freedom is an auburn aspen tree,

I climb and face my pain, tear leaves of zinc. 

It is quick sand where all my limbs can sink,

I am not afraid, I wasn’t born to flee.

Pain is still felt at all hours of each day,

But soon one day she will be gone as well.

While waves of relief will wash over me,

I know so will tempests of sadness gray.

Pain echoed memory as a void shell,

And when pain will be gone, you too will be.

[babylon-crashing]

roil

“Old man, you surface seldom.” ~ Sylvia Plath.

Waves make graves out of deep icy waters;

even for those who glide a full fathom

under the storm. Harborage for readers,

poets and all the used books that love them.

One day type, “libraries near me,” and you'll

get me ... for a while. La Sirène reading

Sexton. Port to port; a dream in the Gulf

Stream with books galore in the hold. Hauling

riches: chapbooks, zines, sonnets. Such sea toil

delights, ask Jonah. I've the sea hag's craft,

soothsayer of the surf, cowrie shell's boon.

Waves tell me whatnot, dreadnought, shoals roil,

rift. Blue-green crashing. Flotsam's drift and draft

and books enough to calm any typhoon.

][][

Note.

I stole, “And like a dream in the Gulf-Stream/ Sinking, vanish all away,” from Longfellow. Also, it turns out a fathom is about six feet (1.83 meters), so when Ariel says, "Full fathom five thy father lies," in The Tempest that's only about 30 feet. I always thought it would be deeper.

[sleepingdiaryzzz]

Y! Young Justice (the og) x villain! reader

You twist, defiant even now, and they feel it—their adversary, their ghost, the one who slipped from their grasp with a laugh on the wind, now held tight. Tonight, the uncatchable is caught, and their silent victory thrums like a heartbeat in the air around you.

Kaldur’s water binds hold fast, yet there’s a strange gentleness as he looks at you, eyes deep as the sea he commands. His grip is sure but reverent, each ripple around your wrists a silent hymn to the dance you’ve led him through, chase after chase, like a lover drawn to shore by the moon. His eyes are an ocean, quiet and unfathomable, but tonight there’s no mistaking the longing within them—a soft, undulating desire to hold what he’s finally claimed.

Wally stands close, not taunting but transfixed, his smirk softer than usual, as though he’s taken his place beside you at last. You’ve always been the thrill, the pulse in his veins, the rush of the wind at his back. The quicksilver desire he’s buried comes to the surface, flickering like light itself as he watches you now. There’s something poetic in his gaze, like a line of verse held just for you, words spinning in the silence as his fingers twitch, yearning to trace every inch of the face he’s only seen in blurs of speed.

Robin moves with precision, binding you with a care that’s more art than security. His eyes linger on every knot, every inch of skin beneath his gloved fingers, crafting his hold as if sculpting something sacred, every tie a testament to the chase that brought you to this point. He’s not simply holding you down; he’s committing you to memory, carving his mark into every second. The vigilante has become a poet, each knot in his rope a line in the unspoken sonnet he’s woven around you.

Conner watches with an intensity that goes beyond duty, his protective instincts woven with the depth of a soul that’s finally found something worth holding. His admiration is fierce, a silent ode to the strength you’ve shown against him time and again. The quiet in his gaze is the chorus he’s always sung for you—a promise etched in steel, a love wrapped in the strength he wields, silent but unbreakable. He’d turn worlds to dust before letting you slip away again.

Above, M’gann floats with a gentle, boundless reverence, her empathy a quiet lullaby echoing through your mind. There’s a depth to her gaze, a wish to hold you safe, to shield you from every shadow. Her presence wraps around you, the warmth of a song without words, each glance a silent lyric, a promise she wants to whisper only for you. Her thoughts spill over, her devotion filling every corner of your mind like a quiet symphony, promising to keep you safe, her heart’s song bound to you.

And Artemis, fierce and unwavering, watches from the edge, her gaze sharper than any arrow she’s ever shot. The smirk that once mocked you has softened into something reverent. She’s a huntress who’s caught her elusive prey, but there’s no more need for the chase. She wants to keep you close, to pull you into her orbit as if you were a star meant to be drawn to her. Her pride for you is fierce, unbending; her eyes drink you in like an anthem she’s claimed for herself.

Each of them stands close, a circle drawn tight, their poetry woven around you, their gazes fierce and unbreakable. You’re no longer simply their rival—you’re a muse, their song, the obsession they’ve crafted verse by verse in their minds. They’ve turned the chase into a masterpiece, and now, their poem is complete: you’re here, captured by verses only they can write, bound to them in a love that echoes like a heartbeat.

(A/n: when will I make a real story? I think never)

[inthefallofasparrow]

An Exercise in Sonneteering

[solxamber]

Celebrating your birthday with: Rook Hunt

(this was written as a birthday gift for @uniquethingtastemaker, happy birthday again!!)

You wake up to the distinct sensation of being watched.

Not the vague, unsettling feeling of someone possibly looking your way—no, this is the sharp, unrelenting gaze of a certified menace, the kind of intense staring typically reserved for apex predators about to pounce.

Your eyes crack open.

Rook is kneeling beside your bed, hands clasped in reverence, staring at you like you’re the Mona Lisa except more breathtaking, more exquisite, and—most importantly—his.

“Bon matin, ma chère!” he sings, eyes alight with terrifying devotion. “The day of your birth has dawned, and I, your ever-adoring chevalier, have planned an odyssey in your honor!”

You stare at him. You stare hard.

Then you glance at the clock.

5:57 a.m.

Your soul threatens to leave your body.

“Rook,” you croak. “It is not even six in the morning.”

“Exactly! For the day must be seized in its entirety!” He flourishes a bouquet of your favorite flowers from seemingly nowhere, because of course he does. “Rise, my love! Adventure awaits!”

You let out a deep sigh, the kind reserved for tax season and unskippable ads.

“…You’re not going to let me go back to sleep, are you?”

“Non!” He grins. “But worry not, my love, for I have already brewed your favorite morning beverage and prepared a repast fit for the divine being that you are!”

You blink. You process. You make peace with the fact that today will not be a normal day.

“Fine,” you grumble, sitting up. “But if this involves unnecessary cardio, I will run away.”

Rook only laughs, undeterred. Terrifyingly undeterred.

You should have known he would take that threat as a challenge.

Because, of course, breakfast isn’t just breakfast.

No, no, no. Rook has turned it into an elaborate scavenger hunt, complete with handwritten poetry clues and mandatory dramatic readings of each one before you can claim your next plate of food.

Exhibit A:

You: “This one says: ‘My love is as boundless as the sky, vast as the sea, deep as the—’” You squint. “Rook, is this an eleven-stanza sonnet about my eyes?”

Rook, beaming: “Oui!”

Vil, appearing in the doorway with coffee in hand: “Oh, perfect. More nonsense before I’ve even had my morning serum.”

You and Vil share a look. A silent, exasperated understanding forged in the fires of Rook-related exhaustion.

“Do you want some of my toast?” you offer.

“I’ll take the whole plate.”

Rook, who absolutely anticipated this betrayal, simply chuckles. “Ah, but the real reward awaits, mon trésor!”

He gestures toward the final clue—a golden envelope that is far too dramatic for a mere breakfast game.

Inside, you find two words:

“Dress beautifully.”

You should have known. You should have known.

Rook doesn’t do simple outings.

No, today’s adventure includes:

A scenic hike where he insists on carrying you across a river because “only a fool would risk wetting your delicate shoes, mon amour!”

A meticulously packed gourmet picnic, complete with candles, wine, and food so unreasonably fancy that even Vil begrudgingly admits, “At least he has taste.”

Random bursts of poetry recitation, because Rook is physically incapable of letting a moment pass without waxing poetic about your existence.

And, of course—

“Why are you blindfolding me?” you ask, as Rook gently covers your eyes with a silk ribbon.

“Ah, but it is a surprise, ma belle étoile!”

Vil sighs in the background. “For the love of—if this ends with you being launched out of a cannon, I will personally end him.”

Rook only laughs. Which is not reassuring.

When the blindfold comes off, you gasp.

Before you is an entire garden, aglow with thousands of twinkling lights, petals cascading from above in a mesmerizing dance.

Everywhere you turn, your favorite flowers bloom in perfect harmony, their delicate fragrances weaving through the air like a love letter written in scent.

You look at Rook, utterly speechless.

He takes your hand, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. His voice is softer now, gentler, filled with a reverence that makes your heart stutter.

“You are the most magnificent being in all the world, mon cœur,” he murmurs. “And today, I wanted to honor you the way you deserve.”

For once, you don’t have a sarcastic remark.

You just cup his face and kiss him, slow and deep, until you feel his smile against your lips.

“Happy birthday, my love,” he whispers.

And, despite the chaos, despite the utter absurdity of the day—

You think, maybe, this was the best birthday ever.

[taocc-updates]

y’all ain’t ready for GTA 0

Simon slowly grabbed at the knife in his stomach, yet.. He still made no move to attack. He let out a small, pathetic, melodious cry.

He reached for Isaac.

...

He fell limp.

-@silhouette-anon

Simon fell onto nothing. Or, well, a strange sort of nothing. A dark, billowing cloud of smoke was there in place of his body, mottled with reds, greens, and blues. The traditional lights on the street began to twist and form slightly into streetlights, blinking red, yellow, green and letting out that same smoke, skid marks appearing on the muddied ground as two headlight eyes showed up.

On the ground, shards of glass and metal appeared from the smoke, crunching and folding into the form of something humanoid. A seatbelt melded into two antennae and a popped airbag turned into two massive wings, with the tiniest bit of dried blood on its edges.

You sense a new witch nearby.

[taocc-updates]

okay I have a problem

I can either give Yelena a mermaid skirt or a poofy ballgown skirt

the mermaid skirt works with the theming of the outfit and her mermaid motifs but the poofy one is…well, POOFY AND FUN TO DANCE IN and looks more like her typical skirt

[two-bees-poetry]

welcome!

I'm Alex, my main blog is @alex-bumble-bee. Like it says in my bio, I'm 20, I'm a butch lesbian, and I write poetry- lots of it is in reference to classic literature or mythology. I feel like I'm slowly growing a little community on here, and I couldn't be happier, so please reach out! I love getting asks and I love meeting new people <3

My linktree to find me on other platforms is here!

My Ko-Fi is here, if you'd like to support.

You can find all of my poetry under #mine, all of my asks under #asks, and all of my thoughts and bloggings under #musings.

Under the cut is a sporadically-updated masterlist of my work, sorted in various ways, to help you find what you're looking for :)

forms

contrapuntal poems -> twenty years across the sea, this has to be enough, can i come home?, sister i, sister ii, the guardian and the searcher, my voice is in my sword, so soft it hurts, my brother, my brother

blackout poems (?) -> are you hungry (medea, alone), i have no words for this (macduff, a girl)

villanelles -> village girl's villanelle, elkha's villanelle

sonnets -> i am become

sestinas -> SESTINA FOR A HEALED WOUND

shakespeare

macbeth -> my voice is in my sword, so soft it hurts, i have no words for this (macduff, a girl), i am become, lady macbeth grants you an interview, there are three witches and they are teenage girls

king lear -> can i come home?, stages of a king waging war on his daughters, my brother, my brother

hamlet -> horatio's epilogue

mythology

the odyssey -> twenty years across the sea

antigone -> antigone was right

house of atreus -> a house tour from electra

medea -> this has to be enough, are you hungry? (medea, alone)

poems about

being a lesbian -> boyish girl, once a month, my main character is a teenage lesbian, i have no words for this (macduff, a girl), a sailor and a siren, in moonlight, breathing (hold, hold), SESTINA FOR A HEALED WOUND

other stuff -> middle, what i was looking for, village girl's villanelle, tesselation, war of attrition, motherhood ismene, elkha's villanelle,