#also sorry this is lame

[ikarosx]

Notes: Ikaros through the years. Little timestamps of visions, from his first to his most recent, and how he understands them. Mentions: @abelasx, @iskendcr, @faelortianyou, Titania, Yavanna, Oberon.

Timestamp: I was ten.

The sky was a mix of yellow and red. The light of the Laurelin was always bright, always mixing with what I could see.

“You were named after my grandmother,” Yavanna whispered in my ear, like it was some grand secret between the two of us. “Ikaria, she was called. Dark hair like yours, seemingly knowing everything and anything,” there was a lilt of amusement to her voice now, but still calming as the two of us sat within Mythal’s Glade.

I felt like there was a new piece to the puzzle of my history, to the idea that I could be named after a great queen of the past, someone I never would’ve met. “Was she a good queen?” I'm not sure why I wanted to know, it wasn't like I thought she possibly couldn't be, but my grandmother was always honest. I liked that.

Yavanna smiled down at me, “Yes, I like to think she was. She passed the crown to my father, her eldest.” The smile faded for a moment, and I wondered if I had said something wrong. I didn’t get to ask my other question, my father suddenly appearing and taking my short attention span away from my grandmother.

Oberon was tall, charming - the elvhen loved him. For what reason, I wouldn’t ask that question for decades. To me, he was larger than life. A brilliant warrior, one who held devotion to Titania, but there were flashes of imperfection, something I admired in secret. Things were done a certain way in Avalon, customs of the Elvhen, but I appreciated when things were messy. If only because it made me laugh.

It was that moment that Aravel appeared, and I was already moving to leave my grandmother’s lap. It was embarrassing, couldn't she see my friends were around? There was a group of children waiting, those who lived within Mythal’s Glade, “Can I go? Please? Aravel will start the game without me. He knows I hate it. He will-“ Yavanna’s hand stopped my complaints, but it didn’t stop my scowl.

“You may. But don’t be long,” it was her usual goodbye, though as she rose and she approached Oberon, the two falling in quiet conversation, she was the only one to glance back at me as I ran off with a wave.

“Ara!” I had to run to catch up, my best friend still slightly out of range. Everything looked wrong, however. One of the kids was towering, another looked unimpressed at Aravel. Only I was allowed to look at him like that. Aravel was weird, sure, but he was my only friend, taken into the palace two years ago when his father had died. It was a great sadness, to lose someone like that. I wasn't sure how to process it at first, but I'd tried my best to cheer up my friend.

Though time seemed to slow as I got closer. Like my legs were stuck in mud, and I couldn't move my arms. Panic would've overcome me if I could've felt my own emotions. I prayed for death to save me from the embarrassment of falling over, but the gods must've been busy because Aravel was talking to me. I couldn't hear him because everything felt red. Hot, red, red, red. "I was talking about you." Rage, an undercurrent of grey, of fear. A fist coming towards my face, and I was landing face first in the mud from the hit. Laughter. It was red, red, red. It was like an out of body experience, consuming me from the inside. I was watching, standing by, and then all of the sudden, it faded.

“What’s wrong with him?” Someone spoke, and I was pulled from my vision, Aravel holding on to my wrist like it would keep me from falling over. And it did, I was a scrawny thing anyway, that's what my father had said. Lanky, like one of those elk Aravel had mentioned once. Too big for my legs. Once I gathered myself, Aravel spoke.

“There are Owlbears we can talk to, Ikaros. It’s fine,” Aravel was the weird kid, and I loved him for it. I was about to answer him, but the words were dying on my tongue as the older kid that I'd just seen in my head stepped forward.

“Freak. Run home to mummy, she’ll fix it all.”

The tug from Aravel did nothing to stop me from turning back, some fierce streak of protectiveness running through me, “Don’t call him that.”

“I was talking about you.” The features on the other child’s face twisted, and in hindsight, it was all very dramatic for a few ten year olds. I knew it was coming, moving to watch as the older boy’s fist missed me and he slipped face first into the mud.

Laughter bubbled up from behind me, and I turned to see Aravel cover his mouth with his hand. His laugh was important to me, it had been so for two years now, though I stepped over the boy on the ground to follow my friend without a glance back. I was desperate to tell my mother, but for now, there were Owlbears to meet.

They'd hunted and brought us rabbits and gophers.

Aravel and I cooked the rabbits for them.

They were pleased.

We said we wouldn't touch the gophers.

They were less pleased.

It was only when it was time for me to sleep that I found my words again, my mother standing a few feet away. I didn't want to get in trouble, but what was the worse that could happen? The kid had tried to hit me, and I wasn't stupid. So I puffed out my chest, everything coming out at once as I continued my story. “I felt…red. Like it’s all I saw. And a little bit of pink. And grey, like I was mad and angry at the same time. And then he threw a punch and it hit me but then when he actually did it, it didn’t hit me. I moved. I was so good, you should’ve seen me. Aravel was there. He’d tell you the truth. He said I stared off like a cat-sith when they’re hunting. I don’t know what that means but it sounds pretty cool.”

Titania hushed me, and my chest deflated when she took my hands, only the two of us in her room. I idly wondered where my father was, but it was a distant thought as my mother met my gaze, “You’re upset with me," I couldn't tell what her expression was, and I was seconds from blaming the other kid. "Am I weird for seeing it?"

“I’m not, Ikaros. But what you’re seeing…it’s your gift.”

Timestamp: I was two hundred and fifty five.

It was blue. Of course it was. The ocean always was. It was vast and filled so deeply with melancholy that I thought I would choke on it.

That’s all I felt in my chest as a woman reached for my hand, the Moongate just a few steps away. She was Silver Elvhen, desperate to know what had happened to her child. I had told her it wasn’t like that, that I didn’t know what would come if I looked. Contact had almost come repulsive to me, and it had taken a while to understand what could possibly bring on a vision. It wasn't anything to do with objects, sometimes I could see something in the middle of the night, other times, I could attempt it with a little bit of contact. Maybe it was desperation, or something else, but she grabbed my hand to ask once again and it did exactly what I was hoping to avoid – it triggered me.

Blue, blue, blue.

Midnight blue.

The stars felt like ice along my skin, so deep was the ocean of her grief, like the expanse of dark midnight sky.

There was a body being lifted, a young man who looked no older than twenty, from the back of a horse. I saw the woman scream, her grief all encompassing as it passed through me. So blue. Always blue. Every vision was blue. Death and devastation, it was always Iskaldrik. Always taking from the Silverlands, all while the High Elvhen stayed hidden behind the Moongate offering support from behind a glass mirror. I wasn't a fool, but I also wasn't the King.

Our contact was broken, I felt a shudder run through me until I felt a strong hand on my chest. Grounding, always grounding – Tianyou. It steadied me, but I felt depressed and angry all at once. There was the beginning of a migraine, I could feel it, and I wasn't going to escape it this time. “He’s dead,” that was all I could get out, unable to really sugarcoat it like I would at another time. Her wail of grief followed me through the Moongate.

Echoing, blue, blue, blue.

Timestamp: I was almost four hundred.

It was yellow. It was orange. It was laughter, happiness, sunshine and grass and leaves.

It was love. It was what I felt, and I was sure that I hated it.

Not really, but it was close enough. I had to explain once that I wasn’t an empath, there were those that understood emotions way better than I did. They could manipulate them, understand them. For myself, the visions consumed me. I was never just a third party watching a scene play out, if anything, I wished I was. It was all encompassing. I could feel the anger in the air, red and red, or the sorrow of midnight blue. Or perhaps laughter, orange and yellow and sunshine. Other times, there was the blinding white light of peace.

This was different.

I was awake, for one, the Silver Elvhen laughing in front of me. For the longest time, I didn’t want to be touched. I didn’t think it would work out if I saw something in the future, immediate or not. But I could explain it to Abelas later, if I could even find my brother later. He was always off adventuring, and Deniz was unlike any I'd met. But there was always a catch. I'd come to expect that.

I'd also come to accept that some people, no matter how good their heart was, or how much love they had to give, they would always be alone. That was how I'd felt for so long. Some twisted isolation that was my fault, my prerogative, and I'd changed it to know Deniz. My mother had told me, not too soon after Oberon had been banished, that sometimes, you were able to choose the life you wanted. "And if you're lucky, sometimes that life chooses you back," she'd finished, and I'd only understood that she'd meant me. The rest would sting, but there was life to be lived, and she would continue on.

But all things ended, even myself and Deniz. My first great love, the one where I could put my hand on his and I could feel my own emotions. Deniz was that moment before a storm. Where the sky was grey and cloudy, where the electricity in the air made you shiver. All encompassing, and I was ready to wait it out.

Yet it was a horrible thing, to see the future and know that no matter what I did, what Deniz did, that I couldn't fix it no matter how much I wanted to. He'd said it before, how there wouldn't be a forever. Nothing lasted like that, I'd remind him, but there was that midnight blue sorrow I would feel. It would mix with the yellow and green of sunshine and grass, of rain and the sound the leaves made when the wind passed through them. But it wasn't enough.

I was like the sun, and he was the moon: always chasing.

Timestamp: Present Day

We all had monsters in our dreams. Some of us had just lived with them longer.

My head was pounding. I felt like I'd belonged at the bottom of one of those filthy gutters that I'd seen in Eterna, somewhere around the tower. The Tower itself was always pristine, as was Arvandoril, so it wasn't like it didn't feel more at home than usual.

I'd come a few days prior, Tianyou not far behind me, waiting for the healers of Ceres to once again give me something. It was magic, it was the mind, they'd remind me of that often.

One of the witches had looked at me the day before, saying it would be a shame if an oracle was to be lost. It'd taken me a moment to understand how far through the mud she was dragging me.

"I'm not depressed."

They'd looked me up and down, "You aren't? Why on earth not?"

That'd been the end of that conversatoin. I'd stormed off in a gloriously dramatic fashion, Tian laughing at me as I'd made it outside the door.

"I hate it here," I'd growled out, sounding more like my cat-sith every day. I'd even been accused of purring once, but when Saleba purred, it indicated devious plotting involving nefarious deeds. I didn't trust that cat, but I loved him. So there was that.

"You wanted to visit," Tianyou pointed out the obvious, and I had to refrain from being grouchy once more.

That was yesterday, and today, I'd only managed to drag myself out of bed after taking the herbs recommended to me. Magic couldn't fix everything. There were days where I felt lighter, this was not one of those days. It'd be nice if I could be paint on a wall, blending into the background, but I was always present. I had so many questions. To be a High Elvhen was to never be alone, but to see the future? It felt isolating. And time, it never stopped, but it often felt elastic.

I could feel another vision, edging at the back of my conscious. This one was dark again, relating to no one near me. My only contact was the desk I'd balanced myself against. Fear. Black, all consuming, darkness. A roar echoed in my head, but I was there. I could see it. Creatures of the blight, another blighted hand reaching forward. Was it mine? Flashes of yellow – deceit. I gasped as I was brought out of it by a banging on the door. A wave of desperation overtook me. I had to see more. I had to go back. But it never worked. Was it the future? Was it the current? It'd be someone I'd met before, had to be, but as I stumbled to the door, looking less like a prince with every stumbling step I took, I had little time to pull it open before I was looking into the eyes of one of the Queen's Court.

"Iskaldrik has fallen."

[taimanzano]

One of one. One, alone, one.

[hexcoreviktor]

That which inspires us to our greatest good...is also the cause of our greatest evil.

[fantaorange]

the husband and wife ever btw…

[shevr]

Little bit of a crush. Behhhh🐐

here u go

[otome-dissection]

Idk man I just think that mizu/ena5 and its progression was really beautiful actually. I just think that the release of the ena5 song was also really beautiful and kind of the nail in the coffin for me and I haven't been able to get the event(s) out of my head all week and that I kind of want to talk about it, actually.

It's about being hurt so deeply and continuously that any kindness that could be offered to you manages to feel like a sin, that it makes you crumble and shatter but for all the wrong reasons, not because of the newfound safety, not out of relief, but something worse and more deeply ingrained in you than kindness ever was. It's about carefully measuring the distance at which you keep others away from yourself, to ensure that it never happens again ("To save yourself the trouble", if that makes it easier).

It's about realizing that the people you've been spending all this time with are drifting closer, that they just might bump up against the unsightly parts of yourself that you've tried to keep locked away, it's about turning around and sprinting at full speed and slamming the door shut and holding onto the handle behind you to stop it from turning, because you're as frightened of the possibility of another wound being inflicted on you as you are of the possibility that kinder, gentler hands will reach out and smooth over the exposed scar. It's about hating eyes that judge and silently condemn you as much as you hate eyes that simply see you and take all of you in without scrutiny, because no matter what they're looking and they're looking at you and they know that your hand's on that door handle and they know that you're hiding something because, as much as you try to keep it shut, they've seen through the crack that you foolishly left open.

(The prominence of eyes in Bake no Hana, specifically eyes looking and searching, and finally landing on you, the viewer, Mizuki, is so fucking. Visceral in my opinion. Every character in the MV stares at the viewer in a deadpan, almost judging way. Even though Mizuki knows deep down that niigo won't really hate them, won't judge them, she just can't stand their kindness either; any gaze directed at her is a loss, another prick in their skin. It screams "don't look at me" while making sure that you know, with horrific certainty, that they're looking for you, that you're being watched. You can't go outside, can't leave your room, because they're searching for you, and while that should be reassuring, to you it's anything but).

It's about not wanting to be dissected, whether it's with hands that want to pull your organs apart or stitch them back together because no matter what they're there, and they're getting frighteningly close to your heart. It's about blinding yourself and covering your eyes to it all because seeing means exposure and exposure means they're taking something from you and you can't do anything about it, much less take it all back, much less have a say in the matter. Everyone's just taking and taking and taking and you wish you could just be alone. You wish everyone would just disappear and you could live in a world all to yourself, for only yourself (but is that really what you want?).

It's about the way that, near the beginning of the Yoka ni Mitoreta MV, Mizuki and her loneliness is represented as a dark, splotchy stain in the shadows. No colors, no patterns, no way to clean it or wash it all away, just raw ugliness marring a blank canvas. It's about the way that Ena reaches out to it anyway, the way she startles when the glass shatters just when she finally starts reaching forward, the way that the rest of the MV/song represents her searching for and reaching only further out to Mizuki, even if the broken shards of glass will only cut her fingers, potentially leaving scars.

It's about how, in every way, subtly, directly, consciously, and subconsciously, Ena shows that she fucking cares.

It's about the way that Ena lets Mizuki have autonomy, despite the situation being so horribly out of their control. And it's such a delicate thing: If she really wants to, Mizuki can take the opportunity to just run away, keep running forever, repeat the cycle over and over, and maybe she'll just destroy herself with it again, but it can't be denied that it's something important to them, something she can't quite live without just yet, their means of survival. Mizuki's autonomy is their identity, it's her tailoring her own clothes and choosing her own ribbons and styling her own hair the way she does. Ena letting them have that is as much about trust as it is about understanding that Mizuki of all people should have this right, when control was something stripped from her throughout so much of her life. She couldn't control how she was born, how people look at her or why, can't control what they think of her; lacking control has only left Mizuki vulnerable to the cruelties of others, has only caused them to suffer, which is why it's so important that it's given to them now.

She had the control to make the choice to see niigo's welcoming love and run away instead of staying, and she has the control to make the choice now whether she wants to keep things the way they are or take a step forward to be at their side again. She has every right to have it, and I think the fact that Ena realizes and respects that, even if it's subconsciously, is really beautiful (there is an entire fucking Verse about this in the new song and just. God Look at this. It's so caring, unconditional, and for fucking What. I think there is something to be said about how much Ena is willing to put aside for Mizuki, and maybe deep down it isn't healthy, but for now I'm just kind of in awe)

It's about how insanely patient Ena has been this whole time. Mizuki says that she basically lied to Ena's face about telling her their secret, even after Ena said with such conviction that she would wait for Mizuki as long as it takes, and Ena is just kept waiting and waiting and worrying like this seemingly indefinitely. It's about how Mizuki danced around it, avoided it, kept the distance, straight up ran when she was finally pushed, but Ena still chased anyway when she saw that she couldn't wait anymore, kept chasing just enough to intervene and get a straight answer out of Mizuki when she really needed to, but still leaving her enough space to leave if that was truly what she wanted. It's about how relieved Ena is the moment that Mizuki finally says outright how much they want to be with her and niigo, how much she wants to try, how much more light Ena's voice sounds when she grabs her hand, relieved, the way that the relief she feels can be felt through the music, throughout the entirety of Yoka ni Mitoreta, the way that warm colors always follow her when she chases after Mizuki, just to hold onto her and stop her from running away completely.

It's about how that careful combination of Ena's directness, Ena's persistence, Ena's warmth, her patience, her bluntness about her feelings, the way she chases and holds on but not too tight and her regard for how unsafe and exposed Mizuki feels actually works and breaks it all down. It's about how she really did reach through to Mizuki, despite the thorns and broken glass shards and nearly-unfulfilled promises, the way that Mizuki did finally let her turn the door handle and step through to see what she'd been hiding all this time, the way that Mizuki's hand, limp, when Ena first grabs onto it, shifts to hold hers back as they cry in the face of Ena's gentleness.

Despite how harsh Mizu/Ena5, and even Ena herself as a character can be (or at least was in the very beginning of pjsk), everything is somehow gentle and warm in the end, blindingly so. And you know what, I think that's beautiful. And what's even more beautiful than that is how Mizuki allows themself to crumble and shatter under that kindness, that warm light, but this time, finally, out of relief.

On a final note, I just want to say that I also appreciate how all that didn't have to solve everything. The scars haven't disappeared, haven't gone away, and Mizuki knows that their desire to run hasn't gone away forever, and maybe it never truly will. But for now they've calmed it, at least a little. She's learning to allow herself to be seen, learning that when someone's fingertips brush over their scars the way Ena's did that it's only out of care, and that maybe taking in that care and allowing herself to feel kindness and safety is okay. They're safe, for now, somehow. They're learning. They're trying. And I think that's cool :)

[mossy-aro]

i hate to be a Downer but no i don’t think making the tenth generic post abt how ‘true love’ is and always will be the most powerful force in the universe and that nothing else compares gives you a personality actually. sorry.

[ofswordsandpens]

Riordan: And the grand lesson that Percy needed to learn over the course of hoo, the culmination of his character arc of this series, the moment where the fate of the world hangs in the balance because of a single decision he has to make... is realizing when he needs to take a step back :)

Me:

[zetterbabe]

chucky during fan appreciation night (04.13.24)

[daisysplosion]

hiii i'll do the other heylin character designs eventually. but. here... get y;alls emo kid, babey...

[majimasleftasscheek]

💍 pt. 2

[braindedtempura]

winter time donna

drew donna (and angie) for an assignment,,.. i think i'm satisfied with how it turned out but also oh my god painting is NOT my strong suit

have the whole 8 MINUTES AND 52 SECONDS timelapse omfg i struggled so much

[hualian]

Xie Lian breaking into Hua Cheng's manor and stealing his heart 💖🤭🦋 | Heaven Official’s Blessing S2 Ep5

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

about that one lan qiren & jin guangshan art: .....does that mean wen ruohan has both or is he as flat as a board on the opposite? XD

Mans so flat they rotated him 90 degrees and he disappeared from the narrative.

[gayspock]

i love it when a tv show has lows that are so low you're so ashamed to ever show it to anyone ever but then highs that melt your brain a bit, like, "good fucking god, this is genuinely such an astounding piece of craftmanship... my perception of the medium, and perhaps of myself, has been challenged/changed in 40 minutes" but you cant even express that to ppl without feeling like youre fucking deranged bc my god the lows .....

[proselles]

people saying that Glinda isn't gay are so insane to me it's like in the original books she lived out her years with 100 of Oz's most beautiful women for nothing