#archives🏵️

[milksnake-tea]

❀ ˎˊ- prompt: he was never allowed to grieve. ❀ ˎˊ- aventurine character study ❀ ˎˊ- wc: 545 ❀ ˎˊ- warnings: vent fic, spoilers for aventurine's backstory. got a little too personal but. yeah. really needed to get this off my chest (this is about my childhood dog btw, i didn't lose any person but... sighs i might as well have) ❀ ˎˊ- taglist: @sh0jun , @themoderatelyawesomeninja , @xphantasmagoriax , @rainswept , @lucensei , @akutasoda , @naraven , @scribs-dibs , @apathicace , @flurrina , @tragedy-of-commons , @cakechase , @kiiyoooo , @moineauz ❀ ˎˊ- img credits

When someone's sister dies, they cry.

That's how it's always been. Loss, tears, and grief all went hand in hand. When you lose someone, you ache. You become numb. You feel as if all the world's come to a halt, except it hasn't, because time goes on regardless of who dies and who lives, and the world keeps spinning even if you are lost, even if you are still, the sun will keep burning, the birds will keeping singing, and people will keep living.

That's how it's supposed to be.

But Kakavasha... never felt that.

He is stolen, taken from his homeland, and with it, he abandons time itself. His eyes lose their light, and he is caught up in the fight to survive, too scared, too busy to remember his family. He has no time to cry, and so he forgets altogether.

And before he knows it, he is grown, and his chains are no more.

And he thinks nothing of it.

Time passes, and the world turns. He meets many people, most of which he forgets and few he will always remember. He throws himself into the thrill of the gamble, clinging onto his godforsaken luck and praying, praying with one hand behind his back, that his mother, that tricyclops in the sky, is watching so that the last of her legacy isn't snuffed here.

And every so often, when he is alone in his condo, in his luxury apartment, when he is allowed to think, he remembers. He remembers sand and sky, rain and hail, he remembers tents and rags and shawls and the hold of his sister's hand in his.

He remembers, and for a second, that age-old grief begins to surface, and then-

His tablet pings, and he is forced to move on once more.

And it kills him. He loved his family, did he not? They had born him, raised him, nutured him, and adored him, and he had them. They were his everything, his past that no one would know, and they are what's left of Kakavasha in the new facade that is Aventurine.

And yet, he hasn't shed a single tear for them.

Did he not love them enough? Is he really so heartless, so indifferent that he would not cry for those who had died for him? What kind of cruel- What kind of son doesn't grieve their family?

He should be sadder- He has to be. If not for himself, then in respect for them, to honor them with the mourning they deserve.

But he isn't.

But then, one day, while on yet another business trip, Kakavasha catches sight of a family. A mother and a father, an older sister and a younger brother.

And they look so... happy.

And for a second, his practiced smile stills. And he watches. From the table outside a coffee shop, a newspaper in his hand, peering over his gold-rimmed glasses, he watches.

He sees the brother complain as the sister playfully bullies him. He sees the mother reprimand them both, and the father hide a smile at it all. He sees their smiles, so bright and untarnished. He sees the brother hold his sister's hand.

It isn't until the newspaper crinkles and dampens his hand that he realizes.

reblogs w comments are appreciated !!

[1141520851813892291920]

Hello. I was told to come here. I think this is right.

It is the summer holidays, and I am home alone. I am always home alone, except for when I eat. They appear around the table and smile and everything seems right until it is wrong.

I'm sorry, that doesn't make much sense.

It is the summer holidays, and I am never alone. There was a bird-- Tim-- who we looked after for half a week. Now his ghost sings to me when I try and write. The words aren't coming. When they do come, they speak of madness.

I enjoy writing madness. I enjoy letting the language twist around the characters and lead them to confusion and loss. I do not enjoy feeling madness. I thought it was the loneliness. Now I feel it is the summer. I do not register the heat, but I hear the birds. The sky looks clearer through sunglasses.

If I could provide a coherent account of what was wrong, then there would be nothing wrong. As I said, the words that come are mad. I swear there is something sinister in this. I fear myself now more than ever. If the madness grows, I don't trust what I might do. I do not think I have been mad before, but I know what it feels like to put my hands to my throat and test the pain.

The fire alarm went off yesterday, while I was making breakfast. The breakfast was cereal. There was no fire. It wouldn't turn off until 10:45, which is the coffee break at my father's work. I don't think the madness likes caffiene. It tries to hide the black tea. It tries to keep me up at night. It tells me I must not sleep. I believe I can fight it and then night comes and I succumb to the urge to stay awake.

I hope you can make sense of this.

-- 🏵️

Thank you for sharing your experience. I am...sympathetic to your difficulties with expressing yourself. That is only to be expected - this appears to be a somewhat...textbook, for lack of a better word, case of influence by the Distortion. However...

While I do very clearly see what is the telltale symptoms of madness, there is another element that seems incongruent to what I typically would expect is such manifestations. Summer...speaking of the season as if it was less of an indicator of time or weather, but its own unique, contained space.

I think too of my...acquaintance, Michael and his encounters with...both doors and the houses to which they Do Not Belong.

I may be looking at things where they are not - though I suppose...that is rather the point. The real question, however, is if I am witnessing the discovery of something new - or at least, new to me - or if I am instead seeing the horrifying result of crossbreeding.

Thank you, again, for your statement. You have provided valuable information to my research.

I do hope you get some sleep.

[lmanburg-letter-service]

Dear Wilbur,

I don't miss you, and I have no reason to write this letter, but I know you. I know your telling yourself that I do miss you, and that when I left the Greater Dream Smp to live with the Hermits, that i was missing you. But i dont.

But I do think of you, and there are some words I wanted to say, so here I am. I don't want to find you again. I wonder what would happen if you did find me. You'd throw another guitar at me. Tubbo told me I should let go of that, because it was Pogtopia and it was so long ago. But that was the guitar you wrote our anthem on. All I asked was to go home. What deserved that? You don't deserve to be compared to Achilles. His story is one of love and I'm not sure you ever loved anything, truly. But I'll grant you that grace. People say that our lives, tje wars, where like chess. Moving and taking peices, and planning. It should have been Us as a team planning, but you're fighting everyone. But if we met again, and you started the game once more i wonder what happens when you have no pieces left to play? What will happen to you when everyone is on my side, and no one listens to a word you say? What happens, Achilles, when I go for the heel?

I have new friends, new siblings and family. They all support me and will protect me from people like Phil, Techno, and Dream. And you. You never protected me. Looking back on it, you let me risk my life when I was a kid, 14/15 years old. You let me face a grown man with a bow, for a nation you didn't even care about. I am angry.

When the bow is strung, and it's let go, what happens? What would you do if we did meet again, and I'm not the young, manipulatable kid you knew. Surely the great Achilles falls.

You all used to call me Icarus. And, if we meet again, I may fly to close to the sun once more. But this time, when I fall into the sea, Achilles, I'm making sure to take you with me

Your 'right hand man' ,

Tommy. I don't go by tommy anymore, but thats how you know me. [ introject from 🏵 ]

[Letter Sent!]

[ela-draws]

🏵️ @glorfindelweek Day 4 : Romance 🏵️

Today I propose you sekksy (very explicit 🔞) gif of Glorfindel and Mentelossë (OC) proceed at your own discretion 💙

[dionizh]

Himari Akeboshi (Blue Archive) 🏵️

[thicckennugget69]

This one's a little silly but it's from the heart ❤️

(Also I really like the art so 👀)

New chapter is up now 🏵️

🪽♥️🔥

Chapter 24: Sing while pressed flowers dost sleep

[gingerly-kinning]

🕯️ , Welcome!! Please come in!

Hello!! you can call me either Lizzie, or Griffin

🍂 @* I use any pronouns and am queer!! ++ I'm a therian, fictionkin, and otherkin. I'm also neurodivergent and physically disabled

The types of requests I can summon are below!!

🥧 *¨ Stimboards 🧣 *¨ Moodboards 🧸 *¨ Rentry resources 🥧 *¨ Care/recipe/fashion kits (Care kits closed temporarily) 🧣 *¨ User boxes 🧸 *¨ Names ++ pronouns suggestions 🥧 *¨ Icons

For whitelist only!!

🥧 *¨ Playlists 🧣 *¨ Headcanons

Whitelist!!

🦔 *¨ Dc 🫖 *¨ Marvel 🏵️ *¨ Bobs Burgers 🦔 *¨ Homestuck 🫖 *¨ Stardew Valley 🏵️ *¨ The magnus archives 🦔 *¨ C!Mcyt 🫖 *¨ Creepypastas 🏵️ *¨ Gorillaz 🦔 *¨ MLP 🫖 *¨ Pjo 🏵️ *¨ Adventure time 🦔 *¨ FNaF 🫖 *¨ Otherkins/Therians/Placekin/etc.

Blacklist!!

🌰 *¨ MHA/BNHA 🧺 *¨ Real people (characters played by real people are fine)🐻 *¨ Proship 🌰 *¨ NSFW themes 🧺 *¨ Real bugs (some exceptions may be made)

credit: 1st divider - benkeibear 2nd divider - benkeibear  3rd divider - riftdancing

[deadpoolsbathwater]

FINALLY finished my stob november prompt fic! it involves flowers 🌸��🌻💮🌼🏵️🌹💐

[yummychiknsoup]

Howdy! (⁠•⁠‿⁠•⁠)

[milksnake-tea]

❀ ˎˊ- prompt: when being a mechanic means performing maintenance on a space cyborg cowboy, you start questioning your career choices. ❀ ˎˊ- boothill x gn!reader ❀ ˎˊ- wc: 750 ❀ ˎˊ- warnings: written before his release whoops, boothill's half naked but like. he's always half naked your honor ❀ ˎˊ- a/n: engineers and mechanics dont @ me i dont know how machines work i just want to make funny cowboy man drabbles ❀ ˎˊ- img credits

Sometimes, you just had to take a step back and wonder just how badly you screwed up to get to your current point in life.

Sparks fizzled and sprayed out at you as you worked on the cyborg before you. Wiping at your forehead, you clicked your tongue as you dove in deeper with your pliers into the cavity in Boothill’s back, trying your best to make sense of the jungle that was his wires. It’d been a while since you’d seen such an… old fashioned model (now that everything was all puppets and wireless), but it wasn’t anything you couldn’t handle.

“You be careful back there,” your client called, throwing his head back to look back at you with a toothy grin and hitting your face with his hair in the process.

Briefly looking up for your work, you met his grey eyes with an unimpressed stare.

“I told you to keep your hair out of my way,” you chided, jabbing at a particularly sensitive spot with your pliers and earning a startled yelp.

“Ow-!” Boothill blew at a lock of hair childishly as he faced forward again. “Alright, alright, no need to get all cutesy.”

You raised a brow. “Aw, you think I’m cute?”

At your teasing, Boothill let out a whiny snarl, a scowl twisting his face. “Y’know what I mean. I swear, the second I get my hands on that troublemaker, I’m going to hug him.”

“Well, aren’t you just a sweetheart?”

He could practically hear the smile in your voice, and it only set him off even more. Out of spite or perhaps pettiness, Boothill shook his head, shoving even more of that hair into your face. Upon hearing your indignant complaints, he huffed smugly.

“That’s what you get for playin’ with me, sweetheart,” he sung triumphantly, leering at you with a cocky grin. You rolled your eyes, poking him in the nose.

“You’ve got some nerve to talk like that to the person with pliers in you,” you retorted, twisting said tools. Boothill shrugged, swiping out his tongue to try to lick at your finger, giggling like a schoolgirl when you quickly withdrew your hand.

“Ah, but you’d have to be a special kind of stupid to mess with me.” Boothill exhaled in satisfaction as you tightened certain screws, adding the finishing touches before closing his back hatch. “And you might be fiesty, but you ain’t stupid.”

You slapped his back as you finished, Boothill laughing as you did. Over the years, you’ve learned that he had quite the contagious laugh, evident by the way you too smiled upon hearing it. There was just something about the way he laughed without restraint, without worry or care for what others might think of him. But then again, that was just how Boothill was.

Standing up, you took off your apron and gloves and stretched, your bones cracking satisfyingly as you rolled back your shoulders.

“Let me get your clothes for you,” you said, shaking out your legs as you walked to your work table.

There, laying on it was his hat and what could barely be called a shirt, as you’d often say. Usually, you didn’t care about what your clients wore as long as they were decent, but if Boothill didn’t have metal for a torso, you were sure he’d be banned in most public spaces.

“Seriously, you should-” you began, only for something to completely slump against you, making you stumble from its weight and nearly collide into your work table. Familiar metal arms looped themselves around your waist, their flesh cold and hard.

Knowingly, you let out a sigh.

“Boothill, get off me.”

The cyborg hummed, briefly considering it before shaking his head and burying his face into your neck.

“Deal with it for a minute, won’t you?” His voice was muffled by your skin, his shark-like teeth grazing you as he spoke. “Been a while since I’ve seen you, much less held you.”

Slowly, you set down his clothes. With Boothill’s bare chest pressed against you, you could feel every stir and thrum of the machinery, from his artificial heart to the relaxing hum of his engine as he laid against you. That same hair that’d been your headache for the last hour now tickled at your neck, a giggle rising up in you at the feeling.

“Alright,” you conceded, patting his head and threading your fingers through his hair, a pleased murmur escaping the cyborg. “But only for a minute.”

reblogs w comments are appreciated !!

[aevumisles]

is there a desert environment anywhere in the isles?

In the deepest locations of the Arcanus Archives hold old legends and historical documents of lands that expanded far beyond the borders of the Arcanus Isle. Though much of the information appears blurred, making it impossible to read, there is one thing that is for certain:

✨ nobody knows~ ✨ ( yet. )

— 🏵️ Creo

[moonchild-in-blue]

hello!! this ask game is real cute, so here you go :]

🥀🏵🥨🌙

Hello! Thank you so much for these, I loove talking about thing like these 💖 sorry for the delay, it's been A Day!

🥀 what keeps you motivated/helps boost your mood when you’re feeling off?

I already answered this one before, but it was not a comprehensive answer by no means, so here's some more things that give me that extra boost: a long long shower and a face mask - sounds very silly but sometimes taking the time to really pamper myself helps tremendously. I already mentioned listening to music, but here are some thar never fail to make me happy: Lost In Stereo by All Time Low (my fav of them and up there in general) / Bohemian Rhapsody by Queen (the single best song ever written in the history of mankind. I will die on that hill) / Under Pressure by Queen (just Queen in general) / old Jonas Brothers (yeah) / BTS (my beloveds - you might not know this but I am a huge kpop fan; if you go back a few years on my archive you'll understand).

🏵️ what flower symbolizes you? if none come to mind, what’s your birth flower and do you identify with its meaning?

Since I got this question twice, I'll talk about my birth flowers now! The primary birth flower for October is the calendula marigold, a beautiful orange/yellow flower, which is often associated with several cultural and religious practices (eg in Hinduism, or the Día de los Muertos in México), signifying rebirth, hope, etc. It also has several healing properties! The other is the Kosmos, a cute little daisy-like flower, associated with purity, love, innocence, etc. While I can connect with several points of them, I don't really identify with them - I just think they're super beautiful!

🥨 what food have you grown to love more over time?

I'm an incredibly picky eater - some textures and smells are just horrifying to me (i suspect it's somewhat connected to my ocd), so I've been making a very conscious effort to (re)try new foods. One that I LOVE LOVE LOVE now is mango!! So delicious, so juicy. Beautiful colour, incredible smell, heavenly flavour.

🌙 what’s your least favourite thing to do in your least favourite season?

Just existing. But really, taking public transportation. Here it gets extremely hot and dry during summer (35°C and more), so taking the bus or metro is just... Not fun. At all. Or sleeping - impossible to sleep when you sweat all the time, it's disgusting. Right now it's getting real nice and cold and rainy and i'm having the time of my life ☔

[kitanaijin]

KITANAI AIJIN

汚い愛人

.dirty mistress

herein lies my self indulgent archive of recs and refs, headcanons, art, memes, and the like. it’s lovely to meet you and i hope you enjoy your stay!

you can find me on ao3 over at cutofyourghibli but i’ll be posting some content tumblr side as well🍷

i have a mountain of wips that i’m nearly done tinkering with and some doves on here are more dead than others. so if you need something tagged, please let me know🫧🫧🐉

.rec roulette

🪻 • 🫚 • 🦪 • 🏴‍☠️ • 🍊

🍙 • 💖 • 🫧 • 🌂 • 🧺

💥 • 🕊️ • 🥩 • 🖌️ • 🏆

🦾 • 🧿 • ⚗️ • 🫀 • ♟️

🍣 • 🌸 • 🍰 • 🫖 • 💸

🍓 • ⛓️ • 🪷 • 🎤 • 💅🏻

❤️‍🔥 • 🐗 • 🍱 • 🌊 • 👺

🪭 • 🍶 • 🪺 • 🎴 • 🏵️

🍵 • 🥭 • 🎍 • 🌺 • 🐸

.fic masterlist and other vibes .i follow back on @allsaturday

💠 • 🫐 • 🛡️ • 🔥 • 🥂 • ♊️

[neteyamyawne]

-‘๑’- Tag Index

- Na'vigation Dictionary

🌱 Spring ➺ Master lists

🌱 Style ➺ Guidlines

🌱 Support ➺ Emoji anons

🌱 Sapling ➺ Ask box

🌱 Sanctuary ➺ BYF/DNI

🌱 Blooming ➺ Taglist

🌱 Budding ➺ Prompts

🌱 Blossom ➺ Fic Recommendation

🌱 Batholite ➺ Tag Index

🌱 Breeze ➺ My OC

🌱 Earth ➺ Character ai

🌱 Water ➺ Avatar Archive

🌱 Air ➺ Taglist Forms

🌱 Fire ➺ My Playlist

🌱 Ether ➺ Writers Recommendation

🌱 Vaishnavi ➺ Myself

- Post Related

💐 : ɢᴀʀʟᴀɴᴅ / ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ

🌿 : ꜰᴇʀɴ / ᴛᴀɢ ɪɴᴅᴇx

🏞️ : ᴇxᴏᴛɪᴄ / ʀᴇᴄᴏᴍᴍᴇɴᴅᴀᴛɪᴏɴ

🪻 : ʟᴀᴠᴇɴᴅᴇʀ / ɢᴜɪᴅᴇʟɪɴᴇꜱ

🍃 : ꜰᴏʟɪᴀɢᴇ / ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀ ᴀɪ

🌾 : ɢʀᴏᴡᴛʜ / ᴇᴍᴏᴊɪ ᴀɴᴏɴꜱ

🌸 : ᴄʜᴇʀʀʏ ʙʟᴏꜱꜱᴏᴍ /ʙʏꜰ-ᴅɴɪ

🌊 : ᴛᴏʀʀᴇɴᴛ / ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢꜱ

🌱 : ʙᴜᴅᴅɪɴɢ / ᴀꜱᴋꜱ

🌹 : ʀᴏꜱᴇ / ᴍᴏᴏᴛꜱ

🌷 : ᴛᴜʟɪᴘꜱ / ᴀɴᴏɴꜱ

🏵️ : ʀᴏꜱᴇᴛᴛᴇ / ᴏʀɪɢɪɴᴀʟ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀ

🌪️ : ᴄʏᴄʟᴏɴᴇ / ɴᴀᴠɪɢᴀᴛɪᴏɴ

💮 : ʟɪʟʏ / ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ

🍀 : ᴄʟᴏᴠᴇʀ / ʀᴀᴍʙʟᴇꜱ

🌻 : ꜱᴜɴꜰʟᴏᴡᴇʀ / ᴘʀᴏᴍᴘᴛꜱ

🌼 : ᴅᴀɴᴅᴇʟɪᴏɴ / ᴘᴏʟʟꜱ

🪷 : ʟᴏᴛᴜꜱ / Events

- Fic Related

🏙️ : ᴄʜɪʟᴅ ᴏꜰ ɴᴀᴛᴜʀᴇ / ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ

🌆 : ꜱɪʟᴇɴᴄᴇ / ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴏɴᴏɴꜱ

🌇 : ᴏᴜᴛᴅᴏᴏʀꜱ / ᴅʀᴀʙʙʟᴇꜱ

🌃 : ɴᴀᴛᴜʀᴀʟ / ᴏɴᴇ ꜱʜᴏᴛꜱ

🌉 : ᴇxᴘʟᴏʀᴇ / ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ

🌁 : ᴡɪʟᴅʟɪꜰᴇ / ᴍᴅɴɪ

- My Moots

🎧 ➠ Sia | 🫧 ➠ Willow | 🌊➠ Dani | 🌝 ➠ Luna.

🌟 ➠ Star | 🌑 ➠ Perse | 🪩 ➠ Jazzy | 💜 ➠ Issy.

🌺 ➠ Xylina | 🐺 ➠ Loupe | 🌠 ➠ Sami | 🌼 ➠ Dalis.

🕷️ ➠ Zanabel | 💙 ➠ Blue | 🌬️ ➠ Eyrina | 🥀 ➠ Rosy.

🌸 ➠ Peony | ❄️ ➠ Keanu | 🎀 ➠ Moe | 🩷 ➠ Eden.

🦉 ➠ Oak | 🏩 ➠ Rae | 🩶 ➠ Zafrina | 🐾 ➠ Kenya.

💧 ➠ Mireya | 🌷➠ Jay | 🤍 ➠ Victoria | 🍜 ➠ Noodles.

𝐀/𝐍 : you can find fics and posts related to these, if you search these hastags 😊

©Neteyamyawne2023 | All Rights Reserved. Do not repost on other platforms, copy, steal, or translate any of my works!

[lmanburg-letter-service]

Good morning! Welcome to the L'manburg Post Office. Please follow rules and guidelines, and direct all questions to the askbox to recieve a prompt reply.

This is a blog centered around letter writing, recieving, and replies.

You may request we write a letter on your behalf by providing your name, the name of your recipient, and relevant information on tone and content you would like in the letter.

You may send in letters yourself, which we will tag and post accordingly with who it it is to, and who it is from. We request you format it as follows.

Recipient,

This is my letter. Here is what I wish to say to you. This may be negative, positive, or neutral.

Appropriate farewell,

Your name.

Minor variations of this are perfectly allowed. Say 'fuck' as much as you'd like, but keep other nsfw content as vague and undetailed as possible, we do not wish to have such content hosted here.

We will accept letters from most mcyt kins and introjects, but can only write letters for those we are familiar with, being DSMP, DSMP offshoots, and Hermitcraft. We can consider other sources, but will not promise anything.

NOTE: WE TAG AS 'KIN' BY DEFAULT, PLEASE SPECIFY IF YOU WISH YOUR LETTER TO BE TAGGED OTHERWISE.

As of recently, I've been swamped, and tagging outside of to and from has been suspended (apologies).

As of now, there is one mod for this blog.

We are Mod Archive, he/any, and we are a traumagenic system. We will not tolerate syscourse, and firmly support endogenic systems.

To restate, our dni follows the usual criteria (no discourse, MAPs or pro-ship, TERFs, etc.)

Canon-divergent letters are welcome, please just clarify if needed.

System anons: 🍎🧃🍎, 🌄✨, 🍷, 🦊, 🌷🌠, 💛, monarch system, [WWS], 🏩, 🌞☁️, Will💥💙, 💜🐉, 🏵️, 📀🧡, 💫💾, 🦌🧪💌, 🦴📝

Kin anons: 🔵🐑, 🚬🎟, 🍨

Unsorted: 📼‼️, Jack🧢, 🪶🌗, 🔥💜, 📺💭, ❄🔧, ☀️🐑

Credit for dividers;;  (📝)  (✉️)

[coconi]

Summary:

As Leo's unnaturally long life nears its end, he finds that he doesn't have to face the Abyss all alone.

Mochijun officially confirmed that this countdown illustration is Elliot helping Leo put his glove on and it made me feel things, so uh... this happened. Hope you enjoy!🏵️