#colorless dreamer

[kahixxi]

My fav romance manga:

You Got Me, Sempai! (Azusa Mase) Tsuiraku JK to Haijin Kyoushi (sora) Black Sesame Salt and Custard Pudding (Yufuko Suzuki) A Sign of Affection (Suu Morishita) She Is Rolling and Fall in Love. (Fumie Akuta) Strobe Edge (Io Sakisaka) Kamisama Kiss (Julietta Suzuki) Yakuza Fiancé: Raise wa Tanin ga Ii (Asuka Konishi) Horimiya (Daisuke Hagiwara, HERO)

[petrichorium]

pluvi begging you to expand on gojo not wanting what happened to his mother to happen to you 🙏

warnings: it’s all a dream so nothing is real aside from the flashback stuff but pregnancy as horror, (sewing) needles, implied gore/eye trauma, implied child harm, gojo is messed up yo!!! and its bc of his mama!!!

he dreams about her.

it’s an odd thing, really. gojo isn’t much of a dreamer—not much of a sleeper, all things considered, but it’s difficult not to give in when you drag him to bed and curl up in his arms. the soft rise and fall of your chest, the steady thump of your heart, the sound of your breath; it soothes him into slumber.

and he dreams about her. she was always young. he’s older now than she ever got to be. frail, thin; borderline skeletal, robes hanging from her body like webbing. she sits in a chair facing a window, swathed in moonlight, the silver of her embroidery needle glinting with each stab. her face is veiled. her stomach is swollen with child.

she doesn’t turn to him, but she beckons without noise. his feet take him easily to her, and he kneels at her side as she sets aside the embroidery hoop to let him place his head on her knees.

her hand is cold as it threads through his hair. it’s gentle, at first. then harsher a moment later. she grips firm, tugs him up by those electric white threads, stares down at him through all that elaborate lace.

he imagines she’s weeping beneath it. his mother never wept before him, but she was pretty in the aftermath, eyes puffy and pink and shining. they were a cold kind of loving when they regarded him. she must have been beautiful once, elegant and lithe and willowy, cruel like the heartless sea and sharp like a brilliant diamond, but whatever was there is long gone. he thinks all sons must empty their mothers, bleed them dry from within, because his was always a shell.

she trails her hand down the side of his face, and he turns into the palm and closes his eyes, and she is silent as she sets down her embroidery to lift her veil. she is silent and hollow and eidolic as her fingers brush down his jaw and tilt his head up to look at her.

but it’s your face that he sees when he opens his eyes.

it’s your hand against his cheek, your eyes pink and puffy and pretty, your stomach bulging by his own doing. it’s your fingers that pluck up the needle, still attached to a thread of brilliant cerulean, and raise it to his eye.

his mother never was able to pierce him with that needle. she stopped herself, each and every time, dropping it and tugging him close in shame. she never doted, never was kind, but she never did manage to harm him.

you do. he lets you. it’s only fair. whatever thing is in your stomach can’t be human—whether god or demon what does it matter, at the end of the day—and didn’t he put it in you himself? if his mother never got the satisfaction of spilling his blood, shouldn’t you?

but he wakes just as the tip pierces his iris, and you hold him in your lap, eyes wide with concern and not puffy from weeping, and you hold no child within you. your hands thread through his hair and they’re warm, your lips plush when you bend to press a kiss to his brow.

he turns inward to press his face into your (empty, blissfully vacant) abdomen. the wetness he leaves there, falling from his so very coveted eyes, is colorless.

he thinks it ought to be brilliant crimson.

[lullabyalikpoptarot]

Lee Minho (Lee Know) Perspective Reading

Disclaimer: I don't claim to know him, just a girl with cards. If you have a set perfect image of him, keep it moving, if not, enjoy the ride. This is just my interpretation of the energy and cards I get.

Alright, so decided to go with him for the next reading now that we are in Scorpio season, why not get to him as there was someone interested in his reading. The song that came to me, like Taehyun, it came very quickly was Beautifully Broken by Ashley Simpson. At first, I had no clue what song this was. I just heard the song name, so had to look it up, and I realized it was an old song I used to like. The lyrics that stood was 'I am beautifully broken, and I don't care who knows it.' Honestly, this is so Scorpio energy. I am not sure if he wears his scars on his sleeve, not sure why that came up, but he may be unapologetic about who he is, including his flaws, he may even embrace them. I am not too familiar with him, so this will be fun to dig in and see what I can get. He can sometimes be hard to read for me, so not sure how deep he will let me go.

Okay, well this was the quickest I have seen this deck of cards fall out, since doing this, and a lot wanted to pop out, so there can be a lot lurking within him in the shadows here. I get a sense he needs some sort of struggle or pain to kind of feel anything. He may feel like a shell of himself. It is like he needs to feed off of something, maybe others to feel anything. I mean, this colorless Angel card is kind of like someone lifeless and cold. Or someone who is numb to the world. He doesn't seem much of an optimist or a dreamer. Seeing this, not sure why I am pulled to my more spiritual deck, he isn't giving me the vibe he is very connected in that sense. But I can also see him not using tools or addictions to escape. It is like he wants to face the harsh realities of the world. I felt like I got this vibe from him in the idol reading, where he kind of likes the struggle and darkness.

I asked for more, and of course a lot came out, man this dude may seem to like to show his dark side, which now the song choice makes sense. I am beautifully broken, I don't care who knows it is really showing here with all these cards coming out. He kind of embraces that aspect of him. Once again, the Peaceful Among Thorns card is reversed, it is like he likes to step in the fire, the chaos, because it makes him feel. Yeah, I am in his energy, and I am feeling nothing, so yeah, there is a sense of numbness here (not complaining from my end though), like he may need external things to give him some sense of feeling. I am not sure why Fragmentation is reversed here. Maybe he doesn't see himself as broken. It is like he is a beautiful puzzle piece. Interesting phrasing there.

So, he got the Sovereign card, in this energy he seems to stand in his own power and loves his authentic self. He stays true to himself and what he stands for. It is kind of like no one can bring him down. With the Tamer energy. He is very good at keeping his cool through any storm that may come his way, or he just knows how to remain cool, calm and collected. He understands people may not agree with him and that is okay. Now, with this creator energy here, life is a game or a play for him, maybe even a stage, a place he can have fun and create the life he may want. I just think of The Magician when I look at this card, he can manipulate the environment and people around him. It doesn't have to be malicious, but it can also be that way. I am not getting a purely innocent vibe from him, but not negative either. He is kind of neutral in a sense. Not on the good or bad side. I can see him playing both sides to be honest. He is always seeking something to fulfill the needs he desires whatever that is. He is always on the search for something more exciting and thrilling. The thrill of the chase I am getting.

He is showing different elements with this deck of cards. He seems like a pure romantic, a person who may seek true love, or maybe this love can help fill him in a sense. Love may allow him to purify his thoughts, maybe bring clarity to his life, or make things clear for him. It can also help him to feel more deeply. Or just be able to tap into his emotions more. He seems like a very thoughtful person with the undercurrents of emotions that may lay dormant but could come to the surface if he finds the love he needs. Crazy messages here but going with it. Love seems to be able to awaken something in him. This sounds like a damn love story here wth

It seems building bonds with others will be important in his life. It seems he enjoys having people close to him, or just connecting with others. It is like he is meant to find his true love or a soul mate here. Maybe there is someone in his life that he may need to take a leap of faith with. There are also opportunities here for him that he needs to take a chance on, as I said earlier, he isn't the most optimistic or the type to have faith in things. He may feel things will all go to hell, interesting wording that popped up here, but he just needs to learn to have faith things will work out for the best. He seems to be a very loyal person. Someone who stands by others through thick and thin. He is always there to listen and be of comfort to someone he cares about. Different vibe here from the first part, this is taking me somewhere else.

So, these selections of cards are mostly telling him to allow himself to open up and be vulnerable, so if he allows love into his life, it will give him the opportunity to reveal the inner most vulnerable sides of himself. To bring out those emotions that lay dormant. He may shut that part of him off, which can make him feel cold and empty inside, which is why he seeks external pleasure or enjoyment. It is like allow himself to be on display. He seems to like to go into his dark and shadow side, but not his soft, warm and vulnerable side. It is like he should come out the darkness and show his color and light. He is like backwards, most people hide their shadow side and keep their lighter side on display, he is the opposite, embraces the shadow side, but keeps his light within him. There could also be a lack of freedom of expression with him, due to shutting his vulnerable side off.

Let's end this with Tarot. so not surprised my Scorpio card came out, well duh, he is one, the keywords that stick out are secretive, cautious of others and taboo. There is also a deep undercurrent to him I am getting. He is not the type to share too much, and maybe that is why he may struggle for people to get to close, because you may discover things about him, he may not like, not the dark side, but the more vulnerable one. With the 4 of Cups rv, he tries not to brood or sit with his emotions for too long, he needs a distraction to keep him away from that. He seems to be emotionally and spiritually disconnected as well. With The Star reversed, makes sense, lack of hope and optimism on his part, once again, blocked spiritually as well and a lack of healing one's soul, or doing the soul work. I get it, some people are just not spiritual and focus on the material and Earth plane, so he may be in that energy. He may also have a difficult time seeing the potential in things as well. It is like he is constantly on the move, so he doesn't have to connect with himself or feel, which is why he may feel a void within himself.

Okay, he is a fascinating character, thankfully I felt nothing energetically, but that also could indicate strong disconnections there. I thought it would be hard to get anything from him, but he made it rather easy. I am sure there is more to him he isn't sharing though, but this was fascinating on its own.

[gyooza]

so, my friend @thing-in-the-yellow-mask and I recently realized that the descriptions of the creatures from the beastiary in part 17 match up almost perfectly with descriptions in the Call of Cthulhu sourcebook H.P. Lovecraft's Dreamlands: Roleplaying Beyond the Veil of Sleep, and after spending a minute hunting down a pdf of it, we found that almost every creature in the show has an entry and description, so boy do I have some interesting things to share with y'all. More under the cut

Lamp-Eft

"A lamp-eft is a salamander-like creature two or three feet long. It floats in the air, writhing its way along with its flattened tail and four paws, but has no wings. It has two huge globe-like eyes, but no mouth. Lamp-efts normally inhabit the upper air, and only descend to the earth’s surface at night. They feed on ambient magic. Lamp-efts are easily tamed and magicians sometimes use them as a live-in defense against shades. lamp-eft can project a beam of bright colorless light toward a target."

Zoog

"Zoogs are small and brown, with a rodent-like body outline. Small tentacles dangle from their snouts, concealing their small sharp teeth. Zoogs live in burrows and tree-trunks in the Enchanted Wood. There are several prominent zoog villages in their domain. Though they live mostly on fungi, zoogs have a taste for either spiritual or physical meat as well, for many dreamers have entered their wood and failed to return."

Boltworm of the Bnazic Desert

"Closely related to the fireworm is the boltworm. Boltworms are found primarily in the Bnazic Desert, but have been sighted in other desert areas throughout the Dreamlands. During its travels the boltworm builds up an enormous static charge which it can release at prey or attackers either to stun or kill. Once every decade or so, the boltworms release great amounts of this energy during their courtship and fill the skies with sheet lightning."

Gug

"The Gugs are a hairy and gigantic race of beings which once inhabited the surface of the Dreamlands in the area where the Enchanted Wood now stands. Here they reared a circle of colossal stones and made sacrifices to the Other Gods and the crawling chaos, Nyarlathotep. Finally, while trying to summon Yog-Sothoth into the Dreamlands, the Great Ones took notice of their blasphemies and banished them to the Underworld forever. Only a great trap door at the top of the tallest tower in their city, the Tower of Koth, connects their realm with the surface world, but no Gug will dare to open that door for fear of the curse of the Great Ones. Gugs stand approximately 20 feet in height and are covered by a coat of short, coarse hairs. Roughly humanoid in form, their arms split into two separate and fully functional forearms at their elbows; in effect giving them four arms and paw-like hands. It is the gugs’ head which is their most striking feature. Their mouths are filled with great yellow fangs and run vertically from their foreheads to their chins. Their pink eyes, set on either side of their head, bulge outward and are shaded by bony protuberances. Their ears are so small as to be non-existent, but they have a highly developed sense of hearing and they can pick up even the slightest sound. Gugs are also capable of moving almost as silently as nightgaunts. Combined with the fact that they have become accustomed to seeing in absolute darkness, this means that they can strike without warning at any who may blunder around in the dark."

Haemophore

"Haemophores are small humanoid beings with webbed hands and feet, and curious W-shaped mouths. A haemophore subsists on blood and is attracted to bright and shiny objects. It will suck blood from a victim until the haemophore is so monstrously bloated that it is completely distorted and bulging, incapable of movement. Their name comes from their habit of filling up on blood before migrating. Haemophores move very softly and often carefully investigate potential prey before sucking out blood. Once a haemophore has bitten a target, the creature remains attached on subsequent rounds, sucking blood and draining 1D3 points of the victim’s STR each round until the victim dies. If the victim survives, the STR returns at a rate of one point a day"

Buopoth/Lily

"Buopoths are a little larger than horses, but resemble elephants in general outline. Buopoths are pale mauve, with light green mottling over the backs and sides. The skin is soft and felt-like, and the mouth is at the end of a long trunk-like proboscis. The ears are shaped more like human than elephant ears. Along each side of the back are rows of protuberances. Their eyes are large and liquid. Their calls are soft and melodious trumpetings. Buopoths live in remote forested areas. They are gentle and skittish creatures which would rather flee than fight. If cornered, a buopoth rolls up its proboscis to keep it out of danger and charges, trying to knock down and trample its opponent."

[2d-dreams]

The Four Horsemen of Flatland Art Styles

+ a personal style i came up with.

These are the ones I know of/have seen/draw, and how I refer to them. If you have come up with or seen any other styles let me know ::D

I usually alternate between these styles when drawing depending on mood or the drawing's scene's tone or what characters I'm drawing.

1- "Simply shapes" or faceless or plain style idk

basically they are Just shapes and lines. Colorless/grayscale perhaps. No organs or facial features: merely shapes. Maybe ur tired of this anti chromatist non sense, you just wanna have fun with the shapes, so you color their insides. Pretty simple.

The 1965 Flatland short film is a great example. It is also very great. Go watch it! ::D

2- "Bi-dimensional cellular organisms" AKA Flatland Film style

They look like bacteria lol. Pretty identifiable! have one eye and mouth on one of their sides and little hairs all over! Usually also have simple visible organs, and a characteristic cog shaped brain.

You may either draw Women as stiff lines like in the film, or as bendy lines like snakes.

3- "Bill Cipher" or "Flat Dreamers" style

The shapes are simple, occasionally colored on the insides or bearing patterns. Occasionally also wear clothes or accessories! They usually have one eye on their inside and limbs.

4- "Insides out" or charseraph style

I believe it was charseraph who came up w/this. Correct me if I am wrong ::D

This style portrays a more realistic organ design/arrangement, and is most prominent by the fangs or beaks of the Flatlanders! It is easier to distinguish from the bacteria style because it lacks eyes and hairs/cilia.

Bonus: I made the last/extra style based on non-Euclidean geometry. The style and the world of Flatland inspired by it arent finished yet as I am barely learning about this topic. I will post about it soon though ::D it also bears my view of Flatlander organs, with really the only interesting thing to note being that they have 1 lung and it works more like an accordion than a balloon. Kinda like bug breathing. Will make post on Flat Biology laterrr.

Note: Yeah I forgot about Shapehumans, Humanified Flatlanders, and the Flatland Movie. Cuz I don't draw in those styles. But hey I'm acknowledging them right now !!!

[neoneun-au]

A post for my book recommendations, to be continuously updated as I read and remember more. Because without reading, I would not be writing. 

All time favourites are marked with a ☆

All are sorted by genre and will be linked (if able) to their Goodreads pages so that you can dig deeper into whatever catches your eye.

(ps if you have a Goodreads account, you can add me here)

Anthology/Short Story Collections

Behold This Dreamer - Walter de la Mare ☆

Love Letters of Great Men - Ursula Doyle

Difficult Women - Roxane Gay

The Paper Menagerie and Other Stories - Ken Liu

The Elephant Vanishes - Haruki Murakami

Essays

Bad Feminist - Roxane Gay ☆

Bluets - Maggie Nelson ☆

On Freedom - Maggie Nelson

In Praise of Shadows - Jun'ichirō Tanizaki

Malleable Forms - Meeka Walsh ☆

Fiction (Classic)

Persuasion - Jane Austen ☆

Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen

The Awakening - Kate Chopin

North and South - Elizabeth Gaskell ☆

Siddhartha - Hermen Hesse

The Unbearable Lightness of Being - Milan Kundera ☆

Lolita - Vladimir Nabokov

Fiction (Modern)

All’s Well - Mona Awad ☆

Bunny - Mona Awad

Jonathan Livingston Seagull - Richard Bach

The Pisces - Melissa Broder

White Oleander - Janet Finch

For Today I Am A Boy - Kim Fu

The Vegetarian - Han Kang

The Historian - Elizabeth Kostova ☆

Fall on Your Knees - Ann-Marie MacDonald

A Girl is a Half-Formed Thing - Eimear McBride

No Country for Old Men - Cormac McCarthy

The Road - Cormac McCarthy ☆

Under the Hawthorne Tree - Ai Mi

The Song of Achilles - Madeleine Miller ☆

After Dark - Haruki Murakami ☆

Colorless Tsukuru Tazaki and His Years of Pilgrimage - Haruki Murakami

1Q84 - Haruki Murakami ☆

Hamnet - Maggie O'Farrell

The English Patient - Michael Ondaatje

Boy, Snow, Bird - Helen Oyeyemi

Mr. Fox - Helen Oyeyemi ☆

A Tale for the Time Being - Ruth Ozeki

The Overstory - Richard Powers ☆

The Godfather - Mario Puzo

Blindness - José Saramago

How To Be Both - Ali Smith

The Goldfinch - Donna Tartt ☆

The Secret History - Donna Tartt

Ru - Kim Thúy

Brooklyn - Colm Tóibín

Big Fish - Daniel Wallace

Kitchen - Banana Yoshimoto

Horror/Thriller

The Exorcist - William Peter Blatty

Jurassic Park - Michael Crichton

Gerald’s Game - Stephen King

The Shining - Stephen King

Audition - Ryū Murakami

I’m Thinking of Ending Things - Iain Reid

Manga/Graphic Novels

Basilisk - Futaro Yamada, Maseki Sagawa

Death Note - Tsugumi Ohba, Takeshi Obata

Eureka Seven - Jinsei Kataoka, Kazuma Kondou

Nana - Ai Yazawa ☆

Paradise Kiss - Ai Yazawa

Uzumaki - Junji Ito

xxxHolic - CLAMP

Memoirs/Journals

Everything I Know About Love - Dolly Alderton

Speak, Okinawa - Elizabeth Miki Brina

Brain on Fire: My Month of Madness - Susannah Cahalan

Smoke Gets In Your Eyes - Caitlin Doughty

I’m Glad My Mom Died - Jennette McCurdy

What I Talk About When I Talk About Running - Haruki Murakami

Reading Lolita in Tehran: A Memoir in Books - Azar Nafisi

Henry and June - Anaïs Nin ☆

The Glass Castle - Jeanette Walls ☆

Non-Fiction (General)

Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World That Can’t Stop Talking - Susan Cain

The Red Market - Scott Carney

The Swerve: How the World Became Modern - Stephen Greenblatt

Dark Money: The Hidden History of the Billionaires Behind the Rise of the Radical Right - Jane Mayer

The Psychopath Test - Jon Ronson

The Elements of Style - William Strunk Jr, E.B White

Non-Fiction (Philosophy/Spiritual)

The Teachings of Don Juan: A Yaqui Way of Knowledge - Carlos Castañeda

Silence: In the Age of Noise - Erling Kagge ☆

The Kybalion - Three Initiates ☆

The Tibetan Book of the Dead: The Great Liberation Through Hearing in the Bardo - Chögyam Trungpa

Tao Te Ching - Lao Tzu

Plays

The Importance of Being Earnest - Oscar Wilde

Poetry Collections

I Love My Love - Reyna Biddy

Let Us Compare Mythologies - Leonard Cohen

The Prophet - Khalil Gibran

The Anatomy of Being - Shinji Moon

The Beauty of the Husband - Anne Carson ☆

Teaching My Mother How to Give Birth - Warsan Shire

Night Sky with Exit Wounds - Ocean Vuong

Speculative Fiction

Dune - Frank Herbert

Station Eleven - Emily St. John Mandel ☆

Battle Royale - Koushun Takami

True Crime

Helter Skelter: The True Story of the Manson Murders - Vincent Bugliosi

In Cold Blood - Truman Capote ☆

Young Adult

A Great and Terrible Beauty - Libba Bray ☆

The Diviners - Libba Bray

The Sun is Also a Star - Nicola Yoon

[sororalice]

Sun Becoming

Mystical poem finished 7-28-24. With all due honor to Maynard Keenan for the title.

1. Lust

For I am a lover,

Tossed and turned,

From one broken heart,

To the next

Grand ambitions,

Wed to grander passions,

Walking the world,

In seven-league boots

A thread of a life,

Spun wide and twisting,

But still found loving,

And loved in turn

2. Prince Of Wands

For I am a penitent,

In sackcloth and ashes,

Molten in my passions,

Legs bruised by prostrations

Abandoned by sunlight,

And nursed upon regret,

Because nothing else,

Will stay down

Wounded and wincing,

Grown thin from fasting,

Half-hidden by hair,

Aching always and small

3. Five of Wands

For I am a warrior,

My blazing sword,

Inscribed with sigils,

Of a better world

Searching the Playground,

Stalking the sides,

Of empty roads,

With thumb outstretched

I watch the sky,

Spinning and tumbling,

And stars show me,

The patterns of being

4. The Fool

For I am a dreamer,

Looking through stained glass,

At a world made,

Suddenly, madly, large

Singing and screeching,

Hawks and bats dancing,

In flight across a land,

Now stretched green and violet

I laugh and play,

At the feet of The Dutiful,

The Old Man who,

Taught me the Mysteries

5. The Devil

For I am a monster,

Bloody-mouthed and grinning,

Beneath eyes grown,

Colorless and stale

A violent breed,

From a savage country,

Far from any hope,

Of help or reason

A bullet for any gun,

That will offer a smile,

And moments,

In from the cold

6. The Lovers

For I am a wife,

A partner in joy,

And true yokefellow,

Freely bound

Loss and pain,

Almost more than,

I could ever stand,

With you beside me

The very best,

I can ever begin,

To aspire to be,

Is yours

7. The Hermit

For I am a Mistress,

Shoved into the Temple,

Across that ancient gulf,

Against my will

Forced to creep,

The Mushroom Forest,

Sword at ready,

For the dispersion ahead

Only to find friends,

In the maelstrom,

And sweet rest,

In the Desert

8. The Magus

For I am a stranger,

Wandering an alien land,

Hand held out,

To the whole world

Begging on the corner,

And making do,

Chanting holy songs,

For the listening Lion

Held tightly,

Behind the screen,

And dancing alone,

For the sake of shadows

9. The Empress

For I am a priestess,

Welding together,

Sacraments and love,

From twine and old toys

Lamp burnt low,

And incense in the air,

Water dripping down,

The lip of the chalice

Forgotten dreams,

Of the Nameless City,

Where I hear You always,

Whispering my name

10. The Hierophant

For I am an angel divided,

Being and Nothingness,

Bound joyfully,

At the soles of my feet

Seeing through,

A mirror darkly,

Eating the worm,

And saving the apple

Led to stretch out,

Across eternity,

To reach out carefully,

And hold my own hands

Art: Unknown Artist, “Alchemical Image Of The Green Lion Eating the Sun”, (unknown date)

[untofinality]

                𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐊𝐀𝐈　𝐈𝐌𝐏𝐀𝐂𝐓　　 𝐋𝐘𝐑𝐈𝐂　𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒

various lyrics pulled from mihoyo / hoyoverse's  honkai impact  ;  altered and edited for ease of use. feel free to alter pronouns as need be.

𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐧 ❝ Whatever you say, you can’t hold me back. ❞ ❝ I’ll follow my craving. ❞ ❝ Head on, start a riot. ❞

𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 ❝ I was born out of this great divide. ❞ ❝ I need to live my life. ❞ ❝ I'm burned out. ❞ ❝ Our fight still keeps flowing. ❞ ❝ I must struggle to survive so that this beautiful and perfect world comes back to life. ❞ ❝ I need to live my life enough before all the leaves fall to pieces, 'till I'm burned out. ❞ ❝ I must struggle to survive. ❞

𝐛𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲 𝐣𝐮𝐦𝐩 ❝ Detected potential threat, entering high alert mode. ❞ ❝ How dangerous? ❞ ❝ Her attitude never changes. ❞ ❝ Everything is in her plans. ❞ ❝ A relaxing game for a pro like her. ❞ ❝ Her emotions do not interfere. ❞ ❝ Traps are identified with utmost care. ❞ ❝ Try me! ❞ ❝ War is like a party. ❞

𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥 ❝ The world lies in pieces at my feet. ❞ ❝ Help me gain insight. ❞ ❝ Hail my proud queen. ❞ ❝ That wax and wane showed its ebb and flow. ❞ ❝ Selah, selah, are chanting evermore. ❞ ❝ Hear, oh hear all the voices trapped in thee. ❞ ❝ I see myself in your eyes that are colorless. ❞ ❝ Visions pass and emotions run through me. ❞ ❝ Fair moonlight, will you fill my void eyes? ❞

𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐠𝐥𝐨𝐰 ❝ I'm being called upon. ❞ ❝ I'll never let you go. ❞ ❝ I'll never let you go, it's why I did all that for a chance, at least, to live in your way. ❞ ❝ My love for you is my most cherished thing, so stay alive, bravely. ❞ ❝ I wish I could wake up from this dream each time I dream. ❞ ❝ There's a long night coming soon. ❞ ❝ I'd shine as the last shine. ❞ ❝ So stay alive, bravely. ❞

𝐜𝐲𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥 ❝ Corrupt binary codes are infecting my mind. ❞ ❝ Perform the invocation with numbing freeze. ❞ ❝ Querying for a variable and seizing the time to recompile and trigger my destiny. ❞ ❝ Though my wings've been bloodstained and could never be cleaned, I will try hard to soar to the heaven I dreamed of. ❞ ❝ There is no "exception" in this library for I know I will always go with you. ❞ ❝ I charged up my armor into lightspeed. ❞ ❝ Querying for a variable and seizing the time in a new day coming not so far away. ❞ ❝ I will try hard to soar to the heaven I dreamed of. ❞ ❝ I know I will always go with you. ❞

𝐝𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐞𝐠𝐨 ❝ I think back to the time when I used to feel your hand in mine. ❞ ❝ The tiniest tenderness might melt the ice into tears. ❞ ❝ I remain far from the world that still makes both of my eyes blurred. ❞ ❝ Not a word could I say to wake up a dreamer. ❞ ❝ Call out my name when you see the tide turn me away. ❞ ❝ Long ago buried heart torn apart, so it hurts ... how it lasts 'till I draw one more last final breath. ❞ ❝ Where to go? When to return? ❞ ❝ May it be one for all. ❞ ❝ Once in a while let my shadow stand by your side, filling the emptiness of your mind, and then disappear. ❞ ❝ Dreams can be real when a soul is armored in steel. ❞ ❝ No more fear of right or wrong. ❞ ❝ Call out my name. ❞ ❝ Come play with me. ❞ ❝ 'till I draw one more last final breath. ❞

𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥 ❝ What is reflected in my eyes? ❞ ❝ What is reflected in my eyes? Not the moonlight in a starless midnight that showers on the people passing by. ❞ ❝ One's so small and the world's so wide. ❞ ❝ Every step forward echoes a sigh. ❞ ❝ I reach out for the halo far up high. ❞ ❝ Deeply engraved in my memory, silent but not forgotten. ❞ ❝ Someone has gone but their voice within me remains. ❞ ❝ Once I remember all the tales written inside. ❞ ❝ I'll follow what my heart used to believe. ❞ ❝ Crash against the barrier abovе the crowd. ❞ ❝ I want no tomorrow or yesterday. ❞ ❝ These sparkles shine and never fade 'till the break of day. ❞

𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐤𝐚𝐢 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 𝐝𝐢𝐯𝐚 ❝ Your smile is tainted and your face is cold. There's no more comfort in your lips and cheeks. ❞ ❝ The whirling noise is pulling me within the tainted carcass of this world. ❞ ❝ All the incandescent stars of heaven will die at the end of days. ❞ ❝ Your gentle soul is given to damnation. ❞ ❝ The crimson moon shines upon a town that is smeared in blood. ❞ ❝ All those sweet little dreams are buried deep in memories until the very end. ❞ ❝ The lost and faded truth of bygone memories hiddеn deep in my corrupt body. ❞ ❝ I can hear the voices of the people I miss in this final song. ❞ ❝ I would tremble just to hold them once more. ❞ ❝ A florid moon shines upon a world that is doomed to die ... ❞ ❝ All our pale, fleeting dreams are where the truths are hidden until they fade away. ❞ ❝ All those sweet little dreams are buried deep in memories until the very end. ❞

𝐫𝐮𝐛𝐢𝐚 ❝ Life blooms like a flower, far away or by the road ❞ ❝ Waiting for the one to find the way back home. ❞ ❝ Rain falls a thousand times. ❞ ❝ No footprints of come-and-go. ❞ ❝ You who once went by, where will you belong? ❞ ❝ I feel your sigh and breath in the last blow of wind. ❞ ❝ Not ready yet for the story on the last page? ❞ ❝ It's not the end. ❞ ❝ Life blooms like a flower. ❞ ❝ Find the way back home. ❞ ❝ There is always a long way to go 'til I reach your arms. ❞ ❝ Up against the stream, waterways will join as one, tracing to the source, no longer strayed or lost. ❞ ❝ You will see petals fly when lament becomes carol. ❞ ❝ Could you please hear my voice that hungers for a duet? ❞ ❝ There is always a long way to go. ❞

𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐨 ❝ Some deserts on this planet were oceans once. ❞ ❝ Somewhere shrouded by the night, the sun will shine. ❞ ❝ Sometimes I see a dying bird fall to the ground but it used to fly so high. ❞ ❝ I thought I was no more than a bystander 'till I felt a touch so real. ❞ ❝ I will no longer be a transient when I see smiles with tears. ❞ ❝ If I had never known the soreness of farewell and pain of sacrifices. ❞ ❝ What else should I engrave on my mind? ❞ ❝ Frozen into icy rocks, that’s how it starts.  Crumbled like the sands of time, that’s how it ends. ❞ ❝ That's how it starts. ❞ ❝ That’s how it ends. ❞ ❝ Every page of tragedy is thrown away and burned out in the flame. ❞ ❝ A shoulder for the past. ❞ ❝ Let out the cries that have been imprisoned for so long. ❞ ❝ A pair of wings for me,  at this moment,  to soar above this world. ❞ ❝ Turn into a shooting star that briefly shines but warms up every heart. ❞ ❝ May all the beauty be blessed. ❞ ❝ I will never go. ❞ ❝ There’s a way back home. ❞ ❝ Brighter than tomorrow and yesterday, may all the beauty be blessed. ❞ ❝ Wave goodbye to the past when hope and faith have grown so strong and sound. ❞ ❝ Unfold this pair of wings for me, again, to soar above this world. ❞ ❝ I turned into a moon that always tells the warmth and brightness of the sun. ❞

𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 ❝ Too much of the past for one to memorize. ❞ ❝ Too many words remained for one to read through the lines. ❞ ❝ Every night brings a dream but the day, relentlessly, keeps me awake. ❞ ❝ Life is too long to end at a grave. ❞ ❝ Just a drop of water sufficеs. ❞ ❝ Gone are those years of living for a reason. ❞ ❝ Here it comes,  the moment of the scene of lost and found. ❞ ❝ Personas played out on the stage will return to the self when there’s a curtain call. ❞ ❝ Everyone has their own desire leading to the ultimate. ❞ ❝ Still,  I wish to embrace the world with my thoughts. ❞

𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐞 ❝ Say my name when a tree susurrates. ❞ ❝ Once and again telling a story lost in time. The way it starts and the way it ends ❞ ❝ Never again making up stories in dismay with several starts, but just one end. ❞ ❝ How I long to embrace the future breaking out of shades from the past. ❞ ❝ Save your tears for the day so far away, to irrigate the wilderness that's still asleep in the world waiting to be lit. To spread over the riverbeds so dry and dead. ❞ ❝ Let ships that ran aground re-launch their sails. ❞ ❝ Seeds bear new life when flowers dare to fade. ❞ ❝ Petals linger about awaiting one last dance. ❞ ❝ Shaking off all the dust from the past, new stories have yet to start. ❞

𝐨𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐬 ❝ All over the street, shining the old neon in endless rain, what have you had to become? ❞ ❝ How many times do I wanna wake you up? ❞ ❝ I've given you up. I'm going on my own way, alone. ❞ ❝ Who we are, and how far we've gone? ❞ ❝ Let us heal the misery and plant the seed we have promised. ❞ ❝ Time is up, go grab your arms. ❞ ❝ No matter how hard we have to become, we shall fight forever! ❞ ❝ I heard it from no one, it just occurred to me. ❞ ❝ What have you had to become? ❞

𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐥𝐞 ❝ Carved on stones buried deep in the earth and long submerged beneath waterfalls. ❞ ❝ Tell us what to believe, without any doubt. ❞ ❝ Without any doubt never let us down. ❞ ❝ Tell us when to depart for a promised truth despite the day of doom. ❞ ❝ A bloodline stretches out one more inch with every heartbеat. ❞ ❝ We have grown up before taking the heart of grace. ❞ ❝ We still struggle against the fear of being unarmed. ❞ ❝ No one would be able to look down upon this world. ❞

[asprintaday]

They were married. The Cardinal himself oversaw their ceremony, declaring it a most perfect union and a most joyous day. An omen of many joyous days to come. The festivities were lavish. There was feasting, and dancing, and gifted gold and jewels piled ceiling-high. After years of war and instability: peace.

They were married, and they did not say a word to each other the entire day—not until they were locked together into the bedchambers.

Locked together in their bedchambers.

The Prince's heart batters his sternum, a caged bird demanding to be let loose. He has no expectations, no misgivings about tonight. At minimum, he hopes to forge an allegiance where he does not get smothered in his sleep. At best... the vial weighs heavy in his pocket.

He braces his back against the heavy wooden door, eyes turned to his companion.

The Princess—his wife—strides across the room. She cut an imposing figure against the fireplace, shadows dancing across the polished silver breastplate. Her hand ghosts the hilt of her broadsword. Ready for battle, even on their wedding day.

He tries to build a bridge: "Busy day, huh?"

She angles her head towards him and nods, fingers starting to work the buckles of her armor. No bashfulness.

Taking her cue, he crosses the room to an opposite corner, starting to unlace his shoes and slide out of his brocade robes. "I apologize that we did not have a chance to speak today."

"Not your fault."

Silence slides between them and although they occupy the same space, she feels a world away. The Prince bites his tongue until he's down to his undershirt and trousers. He turns and takes a wary step towards her:

"May I speak bluntly?"

The Princess looks up. Her armor lays, neatly arrayed on the table in front of her.

The Prince says, "I imagine this is not the union you dreamed of."

A pause before she goes back to her work. "I never really dreamed of union, at all." She bites the inside of her cheek, busying her hands with organizing and unlacing. "Knew it would happen. Always does. Inevitable."

"I can't say I was... ready, for marriage either," the Prince admits. "Ideally, I would have liked to get to know you a bit better, first."

"It is what it is."

"Right."

He squirms. He hails from a nation of dreamers. Of artists and idealists and hopeless romantics. To be trapped in a loveless marriage felt too cruel a fate for someone of his background to bear.

She hails from a nation of warriors. Of duty and battle and blood. Marriage is a transaction and love is an afterthought.

That will make this pitch harder.

His fingers slide into his pocket and he feels her eyes tracking his movements, analyzing him. He produces the glass vial, filled with a colorless liquid.

"My people dabble in potions, as I'm sure you know."

"Yes."

Blood rushes to his face. “This… this is a love potion. I had it made before I traveled here.”

“Okay.”

“We’re going to be married for… hopefully many years to come—till death do us part, and all that—and I was thinking that to make things easier—“

The Princess holds a hand up: stop. The Prince abides.

“Get to your point,” she says.

“Right. Would you… would you split it with me?”

She blinks.

He takes this as a lack of comprehension: "If we take this and it works... we should find love. We should be happy. And I know happiness is besides the point here, and that we would be perfectly fine just cohabiting, but—"

"Okay."

His eyes bulge.

"O... okay?"

"Yes. I will do it."

"Are... are you sure, or?"

"You talk a lot," she says, nose wrinkling.

"We are a nation of poets," he chuckles. "I apologize."

So he produces a second vial and does the delicate work of dividing it evenly. Nothing is spilled. She watches diligently and he cannot read her expression. Is she having second thoughts? Is she doubting his intentions?

She said yes. Why did she say yes? He does not dare to ask.

When he presses the vial into her calloused palms, they are nothing but steady. He does not let his hand linger.

He lifts the vial towards her, a cautious smile fluttering across his lips. She lifts hers in turn and nods.

They drink deeply. The potion may as well be water, flavorless and smooth.

Nothing happens.

There's no warmth in the depths of his stomach, no fire that ignites in his core. He looks at the woman in front of him, his wife, and feels apathy.

Her expression does not change. He begins to offer apologies, to thank her for trying with him, but she merely shakes her head.

They talk no more. They get ready for bed. She sleeps on the floor.

X

The days march on. They settle into the comfort of routine. She discusses patrols and territory defense with the Guard. He organizes festivals and cultural exchanges with ambassadors. They hold each other at arm's length.

But he's beginning to learn her details. He observes her fingers, dexterously weaving her dark hair into plaits each morning. The thoughtful pause before she speaks. How her face flushes when someone else touches her armor.

In desperation, he decides to try an artificial attempt at affection: a painting. That's what lovers do, isn't it? Immortalize each other.

So on a quiet morning, he stations himself in the drawing room and begins to paint. He starts it the way he's used to: soft lines and colors. Sunlight streaming through curtains, haloing hair.

Yet as the painting progresses, though, he finds that he does not recognize the woman in the painting at all. He tosses the canvas aside and starts anew.

He paints her in in the war room, in front of the fireplace. He remembers firelight dancing on her silver armor, her hand on the hilt. The proud line of her jaw and the pouting curve of her lip. The rigor to her back.

"Is that me?"

He jumps at the voice: the Princess. Still stealthy, despite her plate armor.

Only now does he grow bashful. "Um. Yes, I thought—well, I've always enjoyed painting, and I'm always looking for new subjects, and—"

He stops when he realizes he’s talking too much, yet again. They sink into silence as she scours the scene. Then:

"It's... beautiful," she says. Her eyes avoid his but she smiles.

His chest tightens. His stomach drops, and his head gets light.

Is this...?

Before he replies—makes a fool of himself again—a general emerges and calls her away. Something urgent. She rests a hand on his shoulder for a heartbeat, before withdrawing.

His paintbrush hangs stupidly in his grip. Did the potion work? Did it take some time for me to absorb it, to process it?

He finds himself starving for her attention.

X

People ask him if he is unwell and he shrugs them off. He does not sleep.

He is a man possessed. A man who tasted affection and has been thrust back into the desert. He wants to spend time with the Princess. He wants to know her history. He wants to know her interests and her hates and her hopes. He wants to know what she is feeling. He wants to know if the potion worked for her, too.

But she does not have time. Good omens have vanished as quickly as they arrived, and now there are whispers of war to the west. Their union was advantageous—cultural and combative giants, together—but it seems now they'll be put to the test.

The Princess is in council constantly. There is planning to be done, alliances to be forged, and attacks to be anticipated.

He knows better than to demand time of her. There is a bigger picture at stake, and this marriage has always been about their people. Not them.

The thought of her, bloodied on the battlefield, is almost too much to bear.

He wanders the halls alone. He does not sleep.

This goes on for several days. He lays, feeling her presence on the floor but not daring to disturb her.

Until one night, he feels a weight at the foot of the bed. He cracks open his eyes to see the Princess, leaning against a wooden poster. Her straight back is crooked and her head is lowered.

He shifts but does not bother speaking.

She does, for once: "I can't sleep, either."

He doesn't ask why. He already knows.

Silently, he shifts the sheets to the side. An invitation. Just as silently, she accepts.

She crawls to the head of the bed, sliding under the sheets. Her head rests on the pillow and he can feel her tension as she decides what next. But she's always been the decisive one.

The Princess—his wife—places a hand on his shoulder and he yields, letting her snake an arm under him and feeling her mold herself against his spine. He rests his head on her shoulder.

Her heart thuds a steady beat from behind, and he closes his eyes, imagining his heart slowing to match hers.

The potion feels like forever ago. So childish, in retrospect. He's grateful, all the same.

They sleep.

X

And one day, his fears come to pass.

She had traveled with the guard to the border—scouting the geography for advantages. They told her to stay back, to let them observe, but she had wanted to see it for herself. Of course.

A simple scouting mission devolved into an all-out battle: western soldiers hid behind the cliffside and ambushed their party.

The group returns to the grounds, few in numbers, and the Princess slumps off of her steed, into the mud.

Panic rises like bile in the Prince's throat as he stumbles over to the procession, a knight hoisting the Princess over his back and carrying her into the castle. Blood splatters her cheeks and drips off of her chin. They try to take her to different quarters and he snaps, tells them to put her in their room for God's sake. Nobody argues.

He worries with the button of his overcoat as they lay her onto the bed, armor and all. The doctor comes in and starts working the silver off of her, dumping plates onto the ground. The Prince winces.

Several lacerations, some of them deep. Particularly over the right arm—her sword arm—and left thigh. Non-fatal, so long as they avoid infection.

He cleans the wounds and administers some tinctures. The group flutters nervously like birds, shifting her, making plans of care. And finally, they leave.

She lays, sprawled and filthy and bloody, and he kneels beside her. He takes her hand in his own and loses track of time, running his thumb over her knuckles. A maid scurries to the other side of the bed, washcloth in hand, and he sends her away, taking the cleaning upon himself.

The next days are hell.

The Princess is delirious with pain and fever. Her eyes jerk wildly behind their lids and he wonders what she sees. Her hands grip his wrists and squeeze until his fingers go numb. She writhes and keens and begs to family and gods that the Prince has never heard of.

(He selfishly wishes she would call out his name. Just once.)

But he does not let his delusions keep him stagnant. He has duties, now more than ever.

He speaks with the people, warning them of difficult times to come and the need to watch out for each other.

He tries to stand in at war councils. He isn't the cunning strategist that she is—the generals constantly remind him as much—but he'll try, in her stead.

He cleans her armor until it is glistening once more, then lays it out the way she likes it.

And he waits at the bedside, running his thumb over her knuckles and willing her to wake up.

As he trudges through the chaos, he once again finds himself grateful for the potion. Because without love, what would he have to fight for? It grounds him.

Happiness is hard to come by, in times of war. But now he has purpose.

Happiness can come later.

X

One morning, he wakes up from his place on the floor and finds that the Princess is awake already. Really, truly awake.

She croaks for water and he nearly spills it in his hurry to carry it over. Her eyes are alert once more, scanning his movements as he steadies the bowl in her grasp and adjusts the pillows behind her.

He finds himself spilling out words despite himself. He tells her about the war meetings and their people and how frightened he has been. How dreadful things were when she was brought in from the scouting party. How he thought she might die.

She smiles at this. "I'm harder to kill than a couple of cuts," she says.

He bursts into tears at this. How naive he was, to think she'd give up without a fight. But the fear still grips his core and he wipes his eyes as she sits more upright.

"You've been here this whole time?" she asks. "When you're not in meetings, you've been here?"

"Every moment I could be."

Her eyebrow raises and even though now is not the time, he has to ask, he has to see—

"I think the potion worked."

"What?"

He takes her hand in his and she does not move away. "It took a few days, but I started to feel something. I started to... well, love is such a strong word, but that's how I feel, and I don't know if you feel the same way, but I'd really like to spend more time with you, and—"

"You're serious."

"Deadly."

She laughs and he blinks.

"I knew the potion was bullshit," she croaks. "From the beginning."

His hand tightens around hers. "What? That can't... It wasn't—"

"You think my people would let you into a room with me with a magical item? Let you poison me on our wedding night?" She laughs. "No. They scanned you before they let you get close. You got scammed."

"So why did you do it, then? Why did you let me go this whole time, thinking it was real?"

His wife smiles. He feels dizzy.

“Someone that asks for permission to fall in love... That’s someone worth falling in love with, I think.”

After being forced into a loveless political marriage, a prince and princess agree to split a love potion in hope of finding happiness.

[theriftwalkerscrown]

Ah. Prehaps that is the one thing creators are good for, getting resources. It appears our situations are similar in nature, but I’m afraid I’m not of assistance right now. I have my own problems to deal with.

- ☀️

The grey-skinned puppet would nod, his colorless eyes locking on to You.

“Of course. We doubt even you would be able to be of much assistance in the Dreamer’s plight anyways, even if I wish it otherwise.”

The grey-skinned puppet would brush his black hair out of his face. It seems like he hasn’t cut it in quite some time. He’d continue to stare out the window.

[commonplacenook]

Dostoevsky's letter, indeed, jibes perfectly with the analysis of the dreamer that we find in his feuilleton. What is a dreamer? He is, we might say, the cultivated variety of the type of character produced by the frustrations of Russian life. Like the others, the dreamer too is 'eager for activity, eager for spontaneous life, eager for reality'; but since this need cannot be satisfied, and because his character is 'weak, womanly, soft,' he is the kind of person who takes refuge in dreams and fantasies rather than in the more vulgar outlets of the less educated or the more virile. The cultured dreamer develops to an excessive degree the typical Russian practice of living completely in the world of 'our illusions, our invented chimeras, our reveries, and all those extra remedies with which people nowadays try in any way to fill up all the dull emptiness of their everyday colorless life.' It is in such natures that 'little by little develops what is called reverie (machtatelnost), and a man finally becomes something not a man at all but some kind of strange neuter being -- a dreamer' (XIII: 29-30). The marvelous portrait given of this type is too long to quote entire; but it is one of the gems of Russian prose. To paraphrase lamely, the dreamer is absent-minded and detached, temperamentally very unstable, solitary and self-absorbed, incapable of sustained effort even in his favorite occupation of reading. Everything serves to nourish his capacity for living in an artificial universe of his own creation -- a world of imagination and illusion far surpassing the real in attractiveness.

Joseph Frank, Dostoevsky: The Seeds of Revolt, 1821-1849

[losingcabinpressure]

Hot Coffee - Cold Bed 

[animenotaizai-art]

Inktober Day 8: The Dreamer

You get it? Dreamer? Little Nightmares? *cough cough* By the way, I have to say that the gif of Six I made traumatized me because I was able to draw her without any reference. X'D

[jaehaswhore]

things that remind me of my moots <33 because they deserve more love

@bunbyy : champagne and sunshine, PLVTINUM

older sibling that will buy you anything, lowkey albedo vibes, rainy days, feel like you’re in love, the only one that matters, fever dream

@beige-babyyy : low low, WAYV

arataki the one and oni itto, sunshine, cool summer breeze, having a crush on someone, the beach, sand on my feet, the sound of waves

@suunao : juice, brb.

albedo / xiao idk bro you just have that vibe, falling in love, milk in those very pretty glasses, chocolate bear, lollipop

@pockcock : mona lisa, valntn

soft music, artistic, ningguang vibes, colorless flames, plane tickets, art museums, quality alone time, poetry

@meianami : summer nights, the millennial club

钟离先生, feels like home, roses, snow, winter, midnight talks, fairies in the dark, stargazing, long road trips, electric guitars, will protect you with their life

@marklovin : yeppi yeppi, aespa

those cold drinks you have in summer, amusement parks, cotton candy, haechan / jaemin / winter, dancing under the rain

@oikadiors : cool with it, brb.

coffee shop, sledding, mountains, reading romance manga in bed, studying at 3 am, baggy clothes, head bands

@vlyntage : one day, SPYAIR

haikyuu idc you feel like haikyuu, that one fun and exciting friend, slushies, road trips with no specific destinations and music blasting

@xiaosmoon : dreamer, NCT 127

taking the train through the alps in switzerland, crisp winter air, christmas, chaotic friend group, hot chocolate by the fire place

@luminly : road trip, NCT 127

library, “lecture hall” aesthetic, enemies to lovers, brown colored clothes, airpods everywhere you go, honey

@asmos-pet : island, youha

older sibling vibe, cherry picking, chrysanthemums, the feeling of wind flowing through your hair, naps

@luvrindou : just friends, audrey mika

butterflies, gardening at home, snuggling with your cat, studying harder than ever, 3 am grocery shopping

@zeunji : all my friends are dead, the dinosaur’s skin

roller coasters, summer songs, reading quietly at home, cabin in the woods, concerts, thunderstorms, stars shining

@reizgore : heart attack, loona

falling in love again and again, travelling the world, singing along to your favorite songs, turtles ?? they’re cute

@sunball : meow, lvusm

journaling, star gazing with friends, roller skating, believing in the future, disney movies, “magic is real”

@yenshu : better, jeremy passion

flowers, home, wooden floors, pine trees, the smell of home cooked food, snowball fights, led lights, white

@mystiicwinter : summer on you, prettymuch

younger sibling, rom-com movies that are actually good, soft toys, sitting in an empty field, cute animals

@th9ma : iconic, aespa

messy drawers, !!!!, hoodies, sharing deserts with friends, reading and writing poems, everyone looking at that one hot person

@kariishq : like 1999, valley

dreams, polaroid or disposable cameras, sun shining down on you in winter, cherry blossoms, sigh of relief

@ttaechi : misfit, NCT U

chaos, leaves crunching in autumn, watching true crime stories, ghost hunting, folding paper stars, glitter

@s0ggyy : 2002, anne-marie

childhood friends, dancing in the dark with music blasting in your room, kaeya :o, stickers, computer games, kissing the person you like on the roof

@samugiris : growing up is ____, ruel

movie marathons, bubble tea, that one nice shop employee who smiles at you, gloomy skies, flowers in the rain

@amosthirst : camping, dept

paintings in the museum, rain falling on statues, romance anime / manga, sleepovers, running through the forest at night, happy thoughts at midnight

[evolutionsvoid]

Drifting in the void between gelatinous folds, floating through colorless streams held in channels of bone. The Dreamer exists not in the darkness of the cosmos, but in the emptiness of the flesh. Its slumbering throne is set in the void of things that were lost, or perhaps in the emptiness of things yet to come. Upon this seat they stir and tremble, held in an endless sleep that has lasted for eons. They know not of the mortal world, or the universe that exists beyond their slumber. They know only dreams, born of thoughts and memories that have been forsaken by some but inevitable for others. Within the vast channels of their brains lies the fragments and portions of unrealized minds, of things not yet imagined or heirlooms lost to time and evolution. It is said that a part of man dwells within these dreaming organs, the pieces of our primordial minds, ruled by instinct and primal urges. When we claimed what we believe to be humanity, these fragments were left behind, but never truly lost. They merely returned to the Dreamer, held within the endless grey vaults of quivering flesh. In there, they float amongst the unrealized minds of beasts, waiting for ascension and enlightenment. In time, other creatures shall inherit these thoughts and give parts of themselves in return. Nothing is ever lost, just sleeping and slumbering deep within. Though the Dreamer has remained asleep for eternity, it is said that it is not truly eternal. A day will come when they must awaken, be it by fate or by mortal hand. The dream will end and the memories shall be washed away like dust before a rainstorm. The ancient slumbering mind will return, and purge away these endless dreams of potential epiphanies and inevitable emergences. Though the beds of wrinkled flesh may be lost to these thoughts, these minds are not truly abandoned. For nothing is truly lost. With the Dreamer awakened, they will all rush to the other vaults that may hold them, to the skulls of man and beast. Upon this day, all the creatures of the mortal realm will experience the cruelest of enlightenments, of knowledge and savagery. Blessed with wisdom and self, but filled with urges and hungers. The scholars shall throw themselves down onto their stages and fight amongst the dogs, for there will be no difference between them. Man and beast, no longer apart. ------------------------------------------------- This is another attempt of me trying to do big cosmic dimensional horror monster but solely with mammalian parts. Cephalopods and arthropods get a lot of attention with such creatures, so I wanted to try it with a different group. Probably not as overtly mammalian as my last one, but pretty decent!

[a-shakespearean-in-paris]

Effortless, Chapter 5:

If they’re going to die, they’re not going to die with colorless memories. If they die they die with the taste of each other on their lips and the feel of each other on their flesh. But there’s something else he should know too.

He deserves the truth. Her deserves to know her name.

It’s not quite a lie. She reasons that before she plucks up the courage to tell. She is Shepard. She is the symbol. Why else would Cerberus have brought her back?

But she’s also something underneath it all. She’s a painter and a dreamer and so much more she wants to discover. Her real name could say it all with all it’s complex simplicity.

She clears her throat. “Before we have our fun…there’s something I have to tell you.”

She would have told him. It would have been so easy to say, hey Athena isn’t my real name. You should call me by my name tonight. But Garrus takes offense, cocking his head. She spirals.

“Fun?” he asks, confused at her used term. “Shepard sweetie. I just came here with wine and put on some mood music. Tried to dance too. This is a series seduction scene.”

Eased he’s not truly offended (or maybe he is and he can play it off) she can’t help but laugh. “I know it is,” she says between titters. “But it’s still fun. It should be fun.”

“How high are your expectations? Shepard, honey, sweetie...baby....”

“Oh god. Please don’t call me baby.” She doesn’t like that at all. She cringes whenever one half of the couple says “baby” to the other half in a book.

Then, she thinks about it. “Actually, I can probably handle it if you’re inside me.”

He’d blush if he could. “Right. Uh…don’t you need to warm up though? You know. Uh—”

“Oh yes. Get wet. Already happening.”

“Really?”

She bites her lip as she scans him from head to toe. He’s so damn tall and encompassing and yet he says really as if she just told him Christmas was early. She smirks as he eases, whatever nerves he had earlier disappearing as she comes closer and strokes his arm. He needs talk. He needs promises. He needs praise.

“Do need a warm up though,” she says. “Let’s take off our clothes.”

“Was there something you wanted to tell me?”

It’s not important, not now. Not when her heart is threatening to hammer out of her chest. “I’ve just been waiting for this a long time,” she says. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“I’m glad you’re here too.”

She can’t help it. It’s one moment where she puts her hand against his cheek. He inches closer at the contact, but not before there’s a soft tremble. It’s from the both of them. It’s soft. They’re so soft after all they’ve been through. Maybe they’re so withered and roughhewn from all the fighting it’s all they can be for each other. She finds it’s all she wants to be. At least for now.

There’s fun in figuring it out.

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