#aaaand that's the last of them!

[myriadebleue]

the last of the tgcf text posts

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5]

[feelo-fick]

it can't be too hard right?

it's easy not to think about things, he tells me i don't think all the time! wait...

—

a scene from a fic that i have no clue if ill finish, let alone post, but look i made fanart of my own thing that doesnt even exist :D

[liebrenado]

@saimatsu-week Day 5: Touch.

"Compassion makes people trust you. If you offer them your hand, they'll reach for it..."

[the-amazing-hat-trick]

For the siffrin requests!! Can I have sif and loop hanging out together outside the loops? They deserve to relax on this special day :)

In true Siffrin fashion. a nap

[marclef]

my art trade for @yo-kai123 done! here's a couple very good froggies for you!

fake might be a bit nervous, though.... he hasn't exactly seen many others like him before.

but hey i'm sure they'll get along after enough time 👍👍!!!

[neutron-stars-collision]

remember when Joseph Quinn took a bland forest scene, improv’ed the hell out of it, charmed all of us in the process and created a ship?? yeah me too

[greenbean-4ever]

Lloyd HC list? If that's too much trouble, just give me a random one

ahh my first request!!😍🌱 this is no trouble at all! Lloyd is my favorite character so I have a few headcannons. hope you like them!♡

◇ his first pet ever was a turtle named Shifu

◇ his favorite candy are gummy bears, but mints are a close second

◇ in his time at Darkley's, he learned to jump start a car and pick a lock. amongst other things..

◇ his original hair color was brown like his parents, but as the years passed by, it turned into a really light brown

◇ when he first used his powers, his hair turned completely blond. turns out that his green energy bleaches his hair

◇ after crystallized, vengestone no longer affects him

◇ it subdues his powers but doesn't eliminate them

◇ his coping mechanism is buying comics

◇ has a whole album dedicated to random pictures about the shenanigans they all do when bored

◇ his closet is FULL of stuffed animals

◇ he's the living concept of smiling on the outside, dying on the inside

◇ don't tell Cole, but Kai's bro hugs are his favorites

◇ he radiates a confident vibe, but in reality, he's really shy when he's not with the ninja

◇ taking naps is his favorite hobby. he has an uncanny ability to be able to fall asleep ANYWHERE

◇ sometimes, Lloyd tries very hard not to lose himself in responsibilities when things get tough

◇ after all, he's just a teenager

[hl-obsessed]

.

[lets-zofifi-stuff]

I made the appoitment *air trumpets*

Too too too TOOOOO!!! 🎉🎉🎉

Someone gimme a medal

[foxclcves]

𝒍𝒖𝒄𝒊𝒅 (𝒏𝒐𝒄𝒕𝒖𝒂𝒓𝒚 𝒇𝒓𝒂𝒈𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕 01)

For all of my life, I was blind to the world as the world was blind to me. It had never occurred to me before how dark and quiet my state of existence was until I began to dream, and in my dreams I saw visions of monsters and flowers. And among them, my mother adorned a veil of spider webs.

I never felt the creases and hollows of her face in my infancy, and of course I never saw her the way many others see, but I knew her all the same. She called to me every night, and her somber lullabies coaxed me to sleep, and in my unconscious mind I bore witness to a forest of bone and ash; a living breathing thing lacking vibrancy and color. The evergreens were far from their deep green and every crow, rabbit, deer, and raven was pallid, as though drained of life and left to wander with their carcasses alone. Even those who traveled in throngs, herds, or packs, seemed isolated from one another and unaware of each others’ presence. But every single one of them was beautiful in their alienation as they wandered through trees as I did, alone. Though unlike me, their essences shimmered like freshly fallen snow under the light of the sun or the moon. Two eternal partners, of which, did not live here. A place so far from both the sun and moon could not be anything but a dream.

I walk on flowers. I tread through their stems and their petals tickle and coat my legs in pollen as if they wished to drain me of color as well. I briefly wondered if herbivores grazed these meadows and took from them, and then in turn the carnivores and scavengers devoured them not long after, and their own colors vanished. And if so, where did all the color end up? I felt I might have my answer but I did not risk replying to myself just yet. I continued my venture through the flowers, multi-headed, shape shifting, swelling and sinking. My feet were dusted by the earth, though I could not feel any traces of the ground at all.

And lo, I saw my mother, veiled and slight, but so tall and imposing. She was among the flowers as she always was, and in her presence I felt the unseen monsters feel slighted by such power and fade away, back into the trees. Arms opened wide to me, my legs moved on their own, and any semblance of caution or fear that bubbled up in my throat was conquered by an unknown numbing agent. I felt her arms embrace me, consume me. Her rib cage against mine felt like the teasing of teeth against my skin through my clothes, but I could not pull away. The trees around us a circle, the trees around us spun and spun and in the sky there was nothing, nothing at all. In her realm only, my mother was a god and one does not simply invite themselves into such an entity’s space. They must be beckoned; they must be summoned. I wondered not for the first time what sort of rituals my mother conducted to bring me here, or to keep such a dimension so well preserved and consistent. There was only birdsong when she willed it. The flowers knew no season or weather, and knew not what it was to be ripped from their roots. And certainly, things such as wolves were forbidden from the meadows. On occasion, I still found their footprints, testing the perimeters within the bounds of the thick, dark treeline.

My mother always used bone and cartilage to comb and brush my hair, and when she did, it rippled through many shades: gray, silver, white, dark purple, dark blue, shimmering gold. She cleansed my face with rosewater and readied my hands with soot from a fire I could not see, smell, or feel. Dark runes found their way to my crown, as always, and I found myself rejuvenated but with a small, nagging feeling that I was actually exhausted. This night or this day, soot and blood colored my brow. It made me recall my apparent origin story: how my mother did not birth me from her womb, but instead used the hollowed bones and hearts of doves, her own blood, and the most potent sprigs of hemlock. I was made by the materials of softness and devastation, but she insisted I was created in purest form. In essence of her… a piece of herself.

For all my life, I was blind to the world as the world was blind to me. It had never occurred to me before how dark and quiet my state of existence was until I began to dream, and in my dreams I saw visions of monsters and flowers. And among them, my mother adorned a veil of spider webs.

I never felt the creases and hollows of her face in my infancy, and of course I never saw her the way many others see, but I knew her all the same. She called to me every night, and her somber lullabies coaxed me to sleep, and in my unconscious mind I bore witness to a forest of bone and ash; a living breathing thing lacking vibrancy and color. The evergreens were far from their deep green and every crow, rabbit, deer, and raven was pallid, as though drained of life and left to wander with their carcasses alone. Even those who traveled in throngs, herds, or packs, seemed isolated from one another and unaware of each others’ presence. But every single one of them was beautiful in their alienation as they wandered through trees as I did, alone. Though unlike me, their essences shimmered like fresh fallen snow under the light of the sun or the moon. Two eternal partners, of which, did not live here. A place so far from both the sun and moon could not be anything but a dream.

I walk on flowers. I tread through their stems and their petals tickle and coat my legs in pollen as if they wished to drain me of color as well. I wondered if herbivores grazed these meadows and took from them, and then in turn the carnivores and scavengers devoured them not long after, and their own colors vanished. And if so, where did all the color end up? I felt I had my answer but I did not risk replying to myself yet. I continued my venture through the flowers, multi-headed, shape shifting, swelling and sinking. My feet covered with the earth, though I could not feel any traces of the ground at all.

And lo, I saw my mother, veiled and slight, but so tall and imposing. She was among the flowers as she always was, and in her presence I felt the unseen monsters feel slighted by such power and fade away, back into the trees. Arms opened wide to me, my legs moved on their own, and any semblance of caution or fear that bubbled up in my throat conquered by an unknown numbing agent. I felt her arms embrace me, consume me. Her rib cage against mine felt like the teasing of teeth against my skin through my clothes, but I could not pull away. The trees around us a circle, the trees around us spun and spun and in the sky there was nothing, nothing at all. In her realm only, my mother was a god and one does not invite themselves into such an entity’s space. They must be beckoned; they must be summoned. I wondered not for the first time what sort of rituals my mother conducted to bring me here, or to keep such a dimension so well preserved and consistent. There was only birdsong when she willed it. The flowers knew no season or weather, and knew not what it was to be ripped from their roots. And certainly, things such as wolves were forbidden from the meadows. On occasion, I still found their footprints, testing the perimeters within the bounds of the thick, dark treeline.

My mother always used bone and cartilage to comb and brush my hair, and when she did, it rippled through many shades: gray, silver, white, dark purple, dark blue, shimmering gold. She cleansed my face with rosewater and readied my hands with soot from a fire I could not see, smell, or feel. Dark runes found their way to my crown, as always, and I found myself rejuvenated but with a small, nagging feeling that I was actually exhausted. This night or this day, soot and blood colored my brow. It made me recall my origin: how my mother did not birth me from her womb, but instead used the hollowed bones and hearts of doves, her own blood, and the most potent sprigs of hemlock. I was made by the materials of softness and devastation, but she insisted I was created in purest form. In essence of her… a piece of herself.

I never know when I leave the dream. I imagine a scenario where I am led back through the woods, decorated in my circlet of cinder and vitae. Where I am lead by a procession of deer with my hands on their backs, and as my sight fades, ravens soar above my head clear a path. Where they lead me I know not, but I’m certain there is a door or a hollowed tree somewhere in this realm where I am allowed to come and go, but not of my own volition. And whenever I awake, I lie numb and heavy in my bed, my arms and legs disconnected from my mind and my might. I am only able to turn my head and see my veiled mother curled up in my bedroom doorway on the floor, holding back the occasional stifled sob, until her image recoils and fades from the rays of the morning sun.

[cowboyshit]

I’m working a show tomorrow (finally!) and it’s either going to be surprisingly awesome or a complete disaster and everyone including the owner is just like well we’ll see ig 🤷🏻‍♀️

[feelo-fick]

"it must be the caffiene."

"...? we didn't have anything caffinated?"

//

CHILAIOS WEEK DAY 2 : Changeling

HI THIS IS SUPER LATE BUT ART HAS BEEN. HARD. AND YES I SKIPPED ONE DAY THAT ONE IS GONNA GO LAST BECAUSE ITS TAKING SO LONG TO MAKE.... ill get to the others when i find the time.

Bonus :

[seekingthestars]

me, yesterday: i got some projects done so i am finally starting to feel a little less overwhelmed at work!

work, today: gives me 5 new projects in the span of 8 hours

me: well nevermind 🫠🫠🫠🫠

[galactic-pirates]

[bastianhallix]

1, 12, and 17 for val?

1. What's the lie your character says most often?

as a battlemage potential, they'd lie to their mother about their progress in their studies when really, they'd be off doing gods-know-what. they were generally self-destructive and toxic at the battlespire because they felt trapped in there. the only person who really saw that they had a problem was their uncle martus, but he had his own demons that kept him from really giving them any help.

after they desert the battlespire, they don't really feel the need to lie anymore

12. What's something that makes them laugh every single time? Be specific!

when they're being all romantic with amarie and then decide to say something to ruin the mood. like this (nsfw joke but i can't think of anything else atm 😭)

but yeah, they think that the death glare she does at them afterwards is fucking Hilarious

17. What do they notice first in the mirror versus what most people first notice looking at them?

people usually notice their very butch/masc fashion style first, while val themself sees their hair.

when they were a teenager, they once pulled a prank on their classmate lucilla* that led her to keep her hair short. they'd pick on her for it, but they secretly always wanted to keep their hair short, too. it wasn't until they met amarie that they decided to cut it and keep it loose, though they were kind of shocked to realize that their new hairstyle ended up resembling lucilla's. oops!

(*lucilla as in lucilla caprenia from the dread cellar dungeon. in my lore, val replaces lucilla as the battlemage potential who accompanies martus to the dread cellar. however, while lucilla was chosen because of her status as a gifted battlemage-in-training, val was chosen because they're martus's niece. so, nepotism kinda played a role in their mission for the dread cellar.)

[worldssilliestserpent]

bruhh the world really hates me this week