#in mourning rn

[cupcakeinat0r]

We got these 2 seconds

But we should’ve gotten this </3

[bunsflora]

a couple days ago i read a very beautiful poem about loving someone's back and knowing it so well because the author was always stealing glances at the other person or something like that and i cant for the life of me find it and it was so so beautiful yet simple. im incredibly sad

[teenagemutantninjafangirl]

update: i’m not seeing hozier 😔😔😔

[raan-miir-tah]

Literally what did I do to deserve the punishment that is evernote deleting 300 words. From. The next chapter of aP&aP.

[ghoulinfuschia]

Romantic breakups suck, but I think platonic breakups hurt just as bad. You lose a person you thought would be around forever. What’s worse is if neither of you did anything wrong. Circumstances just wouldn’t allow it anymore. You stand at the end of your journey together, side by side, and all you can say is “Thank you for everything. I hope the future treats you kindly.”

[poetryphase]

Organizing my entire tumblr for once i am not repeating the same sins of my predecessor

[itsnotmourn]

the reason why carmen and richard did not appear on spooky month 6

(audio from pelo twitch stream!)

[bumblewarden]

[rossary-of-the-rose]

Sherlockians, my people, I summon thee.

Prove to me that we are not a dead race, that I am not the only one left. Prove to me that there is still hope in this cruel, cold world. Prove to me that our cause is still one worth fighting for.

We are lovers of a great masterpiece. Enjoyers of a perfect art. Our ruler is one of emotion, comedy, tragedy, and suppressed gayness. With us gone, who would still be left to worship it?

I know it is still worth fighting for. Every time I lay eyes on it, my heart warms and I am young and free once again. Every time I see a statement from a long dead Sherlockian, it brings tears to my eyes. They make me so happy, and yet so sad, for if we truly are an extinct species then a part of me that I love and revere will be gone forever. Please, show me that it is not true. Reassure me that we are still alive...

I miss you.

[flying-cat]

people who undermine the importance of izuku and katsuki's relationship throughout bnha because of "annoying shippers" or because they just don't like katsuki are insane because their relationship is literally so? important??? to the entire story???? katsuki is the deuteragonist of bnha. he was one of the first characters to show up. he was the first other person to know about OFA. so much of the manga is spent showing his development. if you deny his character development and relationship development ("relationship" does not always mean romantic relationship) with izuku, you are quite literally denying a massive part of the series. the manga starts with them and ends with them. you're allowed to dislike him but if you dislike him so much that you, in turn, start hating how izuku is a "punching bag" or a "doormat" for the entire series because he doesn't stay angry and vengeful at people even though a massive part of his character is that he's compassionate and kind even to people who aren't to him or used to not be, and you seriously think that that makes him weak, and you just start to dislike the main two characters of the series, i think you should. idk. stop reading, probably. read the revenge fantasy shit that you obviously want to read. there are like seven million manhwa available to you where the character gets the revenge you so desperately want to see.

[geniemillies]

think i was gaslit into liking and thinking velaris was this super beautiful, advanced, better than every place ever city when it's literally just idk new york or something

i miss the whimsical of spring, something about faerie people in masks in those cliche fantasy medieval clothes. i miss the rose gardens and horses 😮‍💨 also the lesser fae being granted sanctuary and work in the high lord's mansion. they have celebrations that don't even belong to spring just for the refugees from other courts. forests. the starlight pool. the plants apparently sing if you listen hard enough? will-o'-the-wisps!?!?!? omg

grabs book 1 and starts violently shaking it. book one felt like i was really in faerie land, after that everywhere else just wasn't doing it for me. 😔 spring wasn't much but it was homey and quiet and void of any weird drama love triangles between sibling-lovers(?) or weird tiny demon ladies who drink blood that no one really trusts or slums in the perfect city ever or whatever it is that velaris has going on idk

[astrobei]

the whiplash of spending the last two years seeing everyone talk about s4 mike being a mini eddie and following in eddie’s footsteps and being inspired by him (which are all true and real) just to be shot point blank by st5 pics of mike with short hair and a dorky little outfit and dustin with eddie’s haircut and outfit and rings instead. i’m fine i swear

[gotchibam]

Sorry for the sudden inactivity, the past weeks has been hard for me & my brother since our mom passed away last March 15. It's only us left now since our dad has been long gone since 2016. I know I still have a lot of things to catch up on but I want to ask for your patience & understanding since we're going through a lot at the moment. I will continue working on the doodles soon, I promise that, but for the meantime I'm going to leave my ko-fi open for tips / donations if anyone wants to help. All funds will be used for me & my brother's needs / expenses as I work slowly through the unfinished doodle comms that piled up while we were back in the hospital.

Thank you so much for your help & support. Without you guys I wouldn't have been able to pay for the hospital expenses & my mom's funeral. It's really hard for me & my brother right now but I find comfort in knowing there are ppl who are ready to support us even through difficult times. Thank you so much again from the bottom of my heart.

[kyrogroscoliosisperum-alty]

For the Susan lovers out there, bon appetit (btw the bottom right pic is a 3D model by dexterous animation on twt, real cool stuff on their page)

[sinfully02slow]

Out of my element here but

Appreciation post for those orv fans that dissect the story, analyze scenes, share their theories and perspectives here on Tumblr

It’s really cool to see how orv looks from your guys’s perspectives and realizing what some scenes meant

Heck, I believed Kdj’s narrative during the webnovel until the fandom woke me up and handed me depression word soup :)

Personally I can’t really put into words what I think and feel- being able to come across posts where it’s put into words just makes my day

Seeing the orv fandom share endless commentaries of the story, their reactions, alternate universe takes, theories and fanart- it all makes it feel like orv never really ended

But yeah, thank you

(Sorry if the post looked long, I didn’t like how the sentences touched, it looked too squished)

[chucapybara]

—monsters.

a short arlecchino x harbinger fem!reader drabble.

—in which a wounded innamorati is tended to be blackened hands and mournful words.

notes: "innamorati" is one of the cast in the commedia dell'arte, with the theme of the lovers, if i remember correctly. they are usually a pair, as well. wrote this a few days ago; this came to me with my own version of a harbinger!oc in mind (hence it may come off as self-shippy), but i think it's vague enough to substitute a reader as innamorati. :3c inna also has cryo-inclined abilities (hence titled "Permafrost") and covers themselves in armour!

"You still bleed like a man does."

"And how does... ngfh... a man bleed?"

"Red."

Were it not for the slickened crimson coating her cursed palms, Arlecchino may as well have thought that the Innamorati was no more than an inanimate suit of obsidian. Innamorati's breaths come heavy, misting like frost at the base of her visor.

There is a kinship, in the blood and in the ghastly taint that sours them both. Like beckons like, as the familiar recognises the familiar from a sea of crowds.

For a moment, Arlecchino's dead-eyed gaze flickers over the shadows in Innamorati's helmet, as if searching for a glimpse of the soul that stares beneath. She almost catches the abyssal-flecked hazel, the dredges of human, or what once was human.

"Innamorati."

"Mmh."

"The children will mourn your passing," the Fourth mutters. It's difficult to dress the wound of an acquaintance who refuses to shed their armour, but she improvises. The bleeding must stop eventually.

"Will they, now?"

Arlecchino bows her head, the slightest nudge of a nod. It was not often that Innamorati passed by the House, but every instance always brought with it the intrigue from the children, and the rumour of the risen "abyssal knight". For all the Lovers' aloof frigidity, a wonder it had become when said abyssal knight would bring souvenirs and trinkets for the children of the Hearth after and between deployments, when said abyssal knight would converse with the fosters in a voice soft as snow, gentle as a whisper upon a dandelion breeze.

Quickly, Innamorati had unknowingly earned a place for herself among the denizens of that organisation, and had come under the scrutiny of its unfeeling Father. Hence had Arlecchino found a wounded Innamorati, returned from a mission, stalking past whilst nursing an injury; hence had Arlecchino beckoned her fellow Harbinger into her office, where a box of medical supplies sits in her cabinet for unforeseen events much like this.

"And of you?" The words come slow from 'neath Inna's helm, a gravelled drag to them, strained. "Will you mourn my passing, Knave?"

There is a long silence. With calculating coldness, the baleful moon falls quiet, perhaps contemplative, perhaps resentful of the question.

How many has she reaped? How many throats slashed, heads ground into a marrowy pulp? And of the many, of what number were those she had no strength to aid, left to keep the reminder of their lives in their final breaths?

Even now, from the depths of that icy past blazed upon a crimson pyre, Innamorati ferried recollections that the Knave had not pondered in a long time: her first blood, on that fated arena, within the cage of a woman madder than she—the blood of a fallen dreamer, an heir to tragedy.

When Arlecchino does not answer, Innamorati answers for her.

"Well," the Permafrost mutters in a rasp, "I have yet to forfeit my life, stubborn as I am. You do not grieve for the living."

"And yet we grieve, still, for what eludes us in the present."

Their gazes meet—or Arlecchino thinks they do. She feels a knowing shiver at the tilt of Innamorati's head, in her direction, where the fiery moon meets a frigid sun.

We grieve for what we have lost.

And if naught else, yours is the grave whose flowers I shall never allow to wilt.