#im like. so. need. music. :3

[oscillating-fan-whore5]

I need to learn all the instruments

[chasedeys]

Ice in your veins, bro!

[sadmages]

Finally found a bit for my Durge

[fairyofshampgyu]

GUYS THE CONCEPT PHOTIS IM DEAD OMFG SOFHDU!*%%^ I LOVE TJEM SO FUCKING KUCH THEYRE SO PRETTY OMFG OMG OMG OMG 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️

[averlym]

fairest of the fair

[rookeryyy]

my webfishing art feature is glitched the hake out but we go forth anyway

I LOVE THEM!!! beautiful shapeshiftercore life <3

[kyathedino]

if you or a loved one been personally attacked by the thunder saga you may be entitled to significant financial compensation

[forgottenporkbun]

do i spend the entire day crocheting mushrooms to make a little garland or do i spend it drawing my obsession (by obsession i mean mh)? This is the problem with having multiple hobbies.

[screechingfromthevoid]

Dorian with the crown keepers in some quiet taverns in quiet towns as they travel, he's always up late. He can't quite fall asleep well. So he sneaks out to a different tavern than the one they're staying at. He doesn't want to risk someone recognizing him in the morning.

At the new taverns, he goes straight to their stages. The emptier the better but it's not hard for him to convince a half drunk bard to get even drunker.

Sometimes he'd sit on the poorly lit stage and strum his mandolin and not say a word at all as he started to pluck out a tune. The chords are simple at first, something he heard in a dream. Every night spent working, adds another measure. Deeper swells and higher jumps. A mournful reverberation. He was stuck for a while.

Until he hears "glad you're not here... wish you were anyways".

Then, disjointed and seemingly unexpected, a reprise of that first plucking, an octave and a half lower. Still major, still jovial. Just. Deeper. Just... Realer.

I'll fix the transition later, he thought.

That's when the lyrics came. They weren't good but they spilled out of his mouth involuntarily. If it were up to him, those thoughts, those feelings would stay caged in his heart. Instead, a room full of strangers knew him more fully than his intimates.

Protector of air, guard of heart, bulwark of us

His simple plucked out tune, a dreamed up melody for a man he could only dream of.

You say you don't lead. But when I look to you, you're drenched in the boreal crux

A deep and quiet start to the encroaching swell, getting louder and higher.

Crowns of spiders couldn't tempt me astray from your due north

Trilled eight notes that felt like crawling legs and whispy silk on the back of the neck.

I thought you might be the wind caught in my sails. Always only you caught in my fibers

His last word carries a sour note, it sounded wrong, out of tune. Like he was.

A storm by another name, gold and red and melting black, tore us off course

Dorian's run was backwards, like he was free falling from a ledge. Accidentals plaguing it's decent.

It's harder than ever to orient through shades of grey and leave behind no remorse...

That reverberation was accompanied by a strain in his voice. Something that happened every night once he made it to that point. It came next to a swallow of something in his throat. That transition came to him, when Dorian thought about what got him out of his slump, he laughed. Bashfully, sheepishly. He always felt his face burn.

My heart aches. Stay steadfast. Fairer winds...

What a thing to say instead of I miss you.

I have stolen a world away. You are there, I am here. And all I want is to be together when we wake

His melody, their melody, picked up again. His fingers started to pluck staccatos in between the languid chords.

Absence makes the heart grow fonder. Or so they say. This distance has only made mine bleed icar

Dorian wouldn't allow himself to end this with a confession. At least, not one of guilt. It wasn't supposed to be about his straying. It was supposed to be about Orym. It was supposed to be about the man he-

I look for the direction ivy green grows. I look to you still, to find my way.

Sometimes he ended the song with another reprise of his dreamy melody. Sometimes, his fingers would slip on the strings and rancid mistakes would ring out into the crowd. It seemed to depend on how hard they fought that day. How much more Opal stained.

Dorian would always thanked the crowd before taking up the coins that were haphazardly thrown on stage. He wouldn't set out a hat or cup, it wasn't about that, but there was always coin at his feet by the end.

He'd walk quiet streets and thought about Bertrand. Dorian understood now, what he said about walking alone at night. He stepped carefully up lulling tavern stairs thinking about picking up a bottle for a round of "what the fuck is up with that" with friend that weren't waiting for him. He slid into the room he shared with his brother, acknowledging every time that this was the first time they did that. They never shared a room or a bed as children. They didn't share much. Now fully grown, he felt they were more childish than ever.

Dorian curled into himself on his cold side of the bed and thought about how he used to have a pulsing heart beat on his skin. Whether it was across his legs, against his back, against his chest. He never felt loneliness like this before. He never felt the absence of someone before.

And he was worse for it

[happistar]

Day 6: Two River squip

So Normal about this guy. the 'uip <3

[kindred-spirit-93]

the challenge

aight yall i just had my best most brilliant idea perhaps ever while listening to the challenge. i have work to do and cant draw for shit but i desperately need to share my visions lol so here ya go:

instrumental

starts with pen in her quarters, setting the scene with le olive tree bed, the loom, penelope and finally the shroud. i picture pen as to be standing infront of her work, the figures almost looking down at her

as soon as i weave this shroud...

her fingertips glide her work (downwards motion) till she reaches the seams (?) where u can see the ends where she undoes her work

though i never thought... ill be here

moves to window and into balcony. curled fists hit the rail thingy with the beat thingy at "but i dont know how much longer ill last...". her eyes narrow in thought and widen with her realisation.

is it finally time... ill be here

she gives the shores her back and looks into her room again, eyes shifting from the shroud to the closed chest, calculating.

--

buying you time [suitors vocals]

it cuts to the suitors, who are chanting in the background, in the hall. setting the scene again with table(s), a view from the ceiling looking at the layout, wall decor idk lol (didnt do my research for this XD)

anyway pen walks in head held high just barely containing a scowl (killer death glare tho) and ignored bc theyre all dipshits.

--

the genius idea i had btw is when she makes her entrance she is dressed in spartan clothes, possibly even a breastplate idk im working it out, whereas for like the past decade its always been ithacan textiles colours and robes (im going to assume each kingdom had its own unique thing go away let me have this) do u see what im seeing?

oh and also she wears le make up, something she never did in the past 10 years (taking this as a mourning thing where she wouldnt wear anything extravagant like her usual crown and stuff. also to spite the suitors bc fuck them. WAR PAINT). pls imagine cool visuals

i genuinely cant over emphasise how regal but also deadly the looks shes serving are here: suns on her face, her (very) long* salt and pepper hair freely behind her (another visual detail of her letting her hair down contrasting how its been tied for a decade)

--

whoever can string my husbands old bow..

she holds the bow above her head for all to see, and raises her voice above that of the rude suitors and breaks the atmosphere (a war cry if u will hehe), giving them the instructions to the challenge. just overall badassery from my queen u feel me.

let the arrow fly... without the best of you

she now has everyones undivided attention and her voice drops again to merely above a whisper but her words ring in everyones ears. she now holds the bow between her two hands, she looks fierce, overprotective. its like she doesnt want her beloveds bow to be tainted by their unworthy filthy hands, yet another sacrifice she makes. she ends with a snarl

though i never thought.. i would not have it any other way

(internal singing here) nose in the air she leaves the room after the first hour she spent tight lipped watching them fail miserably. its cathartic to her lol shes barely holding back her smile if it werent for her unbridled fury. anywho

--

and though i never thought.. just know ill be here

cuts to pen back in her room reflecting afterwards, the sun has now set and her hands are on the rail again, (parallels to the first but lol) this time theyre clasped together. bc wedding ring and aging hands and scars from weaving. god i wish i could draw hands :')

waiting, waiting, waiting...

she once again gives her back to the ithacas shores and her gaze rests on another tapestry, stepping closer with each iteration of waiting.

...oh

ends with her softly reaching out but not quite touching said tapestry (closes her hands just before, in tortured restraint. bc pain): one she weaved as odysseus built their bed. ✨homophrosyne✨ >:')

(i imagine it to be them when they were younger idk it was her courting gift, so probably olive tree with them (in embrace) under it)

are u crying yet?

[ponytailzuko]

okay as i watch the live action and i'm just enjoying the way they do look like they're in costumes and funny dialogue choices and where the acting is a little awkward, can they just make avatar a play. like if they're gonna adapt it i think we should adapt it into a musical. avatar should be played in theatres by your local high school.

[julykings]

rainy day

[maraschinotopped]

undertale yellow. clutches head in anguish.

[bmpmp3]

my own star

[hysterical-cats]

Some Cassandra would be really nice! :D

Cassie is a real popular lady to get two requests!!