#ive always loved birds since i was very young

[atvbs]

i looooove talking abt birds. thats def a special interest of mine. yeas. birds.

[cheshiresaf]

The sun's warmth

| A Leona oneshot of what I imagine might have happened in the sequence during his overblot. I wish we'd gotten more depth into it, especially since he's such a complex character.

! Semi-canon divergent!

_________________________

"From the moment I was born, Ive had to bear the weight of a burden unfit for a child so young."

The sun had shone valiantly the day the young prince had been brought into the world. But, the birds ceased their singing, and those dim rays of light quickly began to fade.

The plan had always been for there to be one heir. One child to carry on the noble Kingscholar lineage. The King and Queen had fulfilled that plan, and along had come Farena, the shining star in their lives.

But with it had come a price.

The Queen, Amirah, had never exactly been in the best of health. It had only deteriorated after she'd had her son. Thankfully, she made a quick recovery. But the doctors told her that it would be a great risk if she were to have any more.

And yet, there Leona was.

He'd never been planned. Not like his brother. It had been easy to tell, even for a kid who had been 5 years old.

They'd been born 10 years apart, and monarchies such as the one his family followed required the eldest child to be the heir to the throne. 

Besides, Farena had always been treated better than him.

The attendants had always dawned over him like hed been their own son, murmuring endless praises of how 'bright' and 'cheerful' he was. Whenever the Crown Prince had passed, they made sure to ask about his day, easily and willingly making conversation with him.

His father always put Farena above him, for he was always the priority. His brother could have gotten anything he wanted with so much as a simple ask. Leona had taken note of the conversations they used to have, both of formal and informal topics. Yet, there'd always been that underlying hint of love sprinkled in. Whenever his brother smiled, the affection had been crystal clear on his father's face.

It was never like that with him.

The same attendants who adored his brother to no end always chided him. He was moody, closed off, selfish, rude. He truly wondered why, he'd sarcastically snarked to himself. They cowered from him, eyes alight with fear and worry for their well being. All because of his magic.

He'd never asked to be given the power to cause such destruction. He'd been just 5 years old when he had discovered it. By marring the face of his very own personal attendant, in what he'd thought had been a normal childish meltdown. Did they think he'd meant to do it? That he was some sort of monster, a calamity that had befallen the royal family's ranks?

His father didn't care to so much as spare him a glance. What was he meant to do with his second son, the spare? Conversations were non-existent, short exchanged words slowly dying down over the years with change. As he'd grown older, Leona had begun tirelessly studying in the royal library, cooping himself up to one of the desks for hours, perched walls of books shielding his view of the outside world. Once he'd reached his teenage years, exhaustion and realisation had hit him like a truck, and he began shielding himself from view once more. Only this time, he'd stayed in the comfort of his room for extended and unhealthy periods of time.

There was a reason why he didn't remember much from the years after he'd reached 10, and before he'd come to Night Raven. There was nothing to remember. He'd slept through half the days of the week, rotting in his bed as the energy began sneaking away from him.

The only exception had been his mother.

Even with her health rapidly deteriorating after Leonas birth, because of his birth, she never loved him any less than she did Farena.

It wasn't his fault. Nothing was.

It wasn't his fault that she wouldn't be there to see him grow. It wasn't his fault that the attendants around the palace hated him. It wasn't his fault that he'd been given the power to destroy.

It wasnt his fault he was unloved.

How could a child have controlled the circumstances to be in his favor?

For the years she'd been around in Leonas life, he remembered her with nothing but fondness and love in his tired heart.

When he had turned 1, she had been the first to congratulate him. She'd snuck into his room at midnight, the light of the moon reflecting her features as she'd whispered to his ears a soft, "Happy Birthday, my little prince". He'd been so confused, blinking sleepily up at her. She'd chuckled at his reaction, urging for him to go back to sleep. Amirah had sat by the foot of his crib, her son's tiny hand in hers as she reassured him. "We have all the time in the world."

When he was 2, the boy had grown a little bigger. He remembered the day he'd first learned to walk. With each stumble, she'd kept encouraging for him to keep going. With wobbly feet, he'd finally managed to get across to her. She let out a laugh full of pride as she'd gently picked him up. Shed held him close to her chest, murmuring "I knew you could do it, Leo."

When he was 3, was when his curiosity had really started to set in. It was the prime age of all toddlers to grow imaginative aboutthe world. He had mindlessly flipped through the large pages of his children's books, not quite getting some of the material. And so, he'd rushed to his mother's room, moving as fast as he could on those little legs of his with a load of books in his hands. His mother had seemed surprised when he'd suddenly burst through the door, but as usual, she welcomed him with open arms. They'd sat together from the afternoon long into the night, Amirah doing as best as she could to explain to her young son. The boy listened as eagerly as he could, sitting still for as long as possible. Until eventually, the soft lull of his mother's voice began to sound like the sweet melody of a lullaby. Hed nodded blearily by the time night had fallen, his small ears drooping. On those days, Amirah let him stay in with her. And as expected, she always held him close to her heart, hands supporting his small head. "Goodnight, Leona."

When he turned 4, Leona began to slowly grow into his features. He'd tilted his head as he'd stared at himself in the mirror. He noticed he looked alot like his mom. The colour of their eyes was the same, a royal shade of emerald. His brown curls, he'd gotten exactly from her. He remembered the time he'd tried braiding some strands of her hair with his little fingers. It hadn't turned out pretty, really. But his mom had kept them in for the whole day. Later in the day, he'd told his mom how happy he was that he looked so much like her. To look like the person he loved so much.

When he turned 5, he took more notice. His mom was growing more sick. She seemed more frail, more lethargic. She didn't have the energy to chase him around anymore to take a bath, nor did she have the energy to play hide and seek with him when he used to hide, afraid of getting his nails cut. Even so, the light in her eyes never diminished. One particular night, he'd crawled into her bed, gently tugging at her sleeves like he had always done. Even with how exhausted she was, she'd sat herself up, brushing the hair out of his face as she'd smile down at him. Always loving. But this time, she'd been melancholic.

"My little prince, mommy might go away soon." She'd muttered softly. "And.. I won't be coming back."

He'd stared up at her confused, earning him a soft chuckle as she begun to explain. Her sickness had recently taken a turn for the worst, and she'd been told by the nurses and doctors to prepare any day now. Yet, she'd gently stroked his hair all the while, in hopes of soothing his heart.

Leona hadn't quite yet processed it. Why did his mom have to go away? Why couldn't she stay? He wanted her to stay with him. She was all he had.

And before he knew it, tears were streaming down his cheeks. Amirah had brought him close to her chest once more, and perhaps for the final time. Shed held him there for as long as she could, humming a soft lullaby in his ears. She'd kissed the top of his forehead, whispering to him right before he fell asleep. "Don't forget that I love you, Leona."

......

Perhaps it was a good thing he'd gotten his scar. The one that marred across his left eye. If he looked too closely into the mirror, all he saw was the spitting image of his mom staring back at him. The scar set them both apart.

He didn't think he could handle it if he was reminded of her every single day.

In the years after her death, he'd found studying as a way to cope. He had read tirelessly in the library, hoping to earn some form of recognition if he proved his intelligence.

And for a while, it worked.

Until he came along.

The day Prince Cheka had been born had been a real turning point for him.

Nobody cared to take note of how hard he'd worked. The hours he'd spent rereading college material at the age of 10, to the point he'd constantly cried tears of frustration and annoyance if he didn't get it immediately. The constant exhaustion after staying up all night, to get not a single question of concern regarding the eyebags under his eyes that seemed to big for a child such as he.

All of that? Thrown out the window as soon as his nephew was born.

Unlike the day he has been born, Chekas birth was celebrated. The irony of it, considering the topic of his birth had always been ignored. He shouldn't have gotten annoyed at a child. It wasn't his fault.

But the burning frustration within him couldn't be ceased.

And boy, did his relationship with Farena only complicate things further.

His older brother had always been nice to him. He wondered if he would have been loving too. If only Leona hadn't pushed him away.

It burned, knowing that no matter how hard he tried, no matter how much effort he out in, he would never be first.

When would he get to see his mom again?

He'd finally learned how to tie braids now. He desperately wanted to show her, reaching out to do them on her brown curls just as he had when he was a child.

Was returning to her warm embrace such a bad thing to ask for?

[fatuismooches]

FUCK DAMN IT i have another angst im so sorry but its okay i... made it possible for a happy ending dw!!!! im finally talking about fragile!reader again

it has been months since you've fallen back into a vegetative state. teetering at the edge of life and death. inside a massive glass capsule that glowed blue as you float inside, preserving you, keeping you away from death. a futile attempt but... it's a must. he cannot work on you like he did before after his decision to kill off all of his segments...

his laboratory never felt so empty. only him, the buzzing of the machinery that kept you alive, and alone in his thoughts.

dottore hasn't been doing well... he hasn't showed up in meetings, nor accepted any visitation from other harbingers. he couldn't be bothered by them at this moment, not when he has almost lost you and now you're slipping from his fingertips.

going through your old stuff for comfort, he stumbles upon a very ancient contraption, probably something he made before for you. it was... a recording device it seems, though it is so outdated he had to reverse engineer it, as well as make another device that could actually run the recording inside it of. he didn't mind at all, it kept him busy, it kept him distracted.

and as soon as he pressed play, he regretted it.

-------------

the screen was nothing but white and black fuzz, white noise emanating from the recording, before it slowly began gaining color, and subtle form.

"gods, why does he make things always so complicated- this thing is so poorly engineered, did he really make this as a gift for me?"

your voice, high-pitched and young. annoyed as the recording glitches, loud thumps coming from the screen. the recording miraculously got fixed, albeit a bit glitched.

"there you go!" you smile, pointing the device at your face. "so, zandik got this for my birthday. it was very sweet of him actually, to make me something so cool!" you hum happily, walking toward somewhere the recording wouldn't see, "gonna use this to record some shit that happens on our everyday lives, so i can look back and laugh at everything happened when i graduate."

and so the recording showed dottore as such.

from your bickering, walking to the akademiya, recordings of his younger self rambling about something, funny moments like a concoction he made exploded and covered him with pink dust, experiments dottore long forgotten, your smiles, your laughs, you simply talking about your day, or ranting about your frustrations, to you talking about how much you loved him...

then, the recordings grew shorter. less lively. slow.

like you had when your illness first started showing signs.

the recordings grew less energetic, but more calm and soothing. whispers of sweet nothings, loving confessions, soft giggles, coughing here and there, holding his hand and calling him so many sweet nicknames, the view outside your window, birds flying and flora dancing along the wind...

then the last recording plays, and it was you, holding an instrument, with an iv drip attached to your arm.

dottore remembers this. it was when you first passed out due to your illness while you were out on an exhibition and almost didn't make it back to the akademiya for medical attention.

"hi zandik," your voice, still soothing despite the rasp in it, "for a while... i wanted to make you something... it was supposed to be a device but... i could barely hold my tools without dropping them after a while..." a small sad laugh slips past your lips.

"so i'll just give you this. something i made in my spare time... considering i've been doing nothing but rest on my bed."

and it was a song. with you tapping to pens onto a metal surface, a slow and steady rhythm, just enough for you to be able to play it with ease. it started off with a sweet hum of a tune he recognized, a tune you've been singing ever since you were young, and then you sang.

he could tell that you were struggling, shoulders shaking and taking in sharp shallow breaths in between your singing. but you powered through, singing with a heavenly voice.

it was all about him. and how much you loved him, how much you adored him and wished to love him even more. to hold him in your arms and call him yours forever and more, to kiss him, to hug him. you listened everything you liked about him, how you felt before you confessed, how you felt when you were with him, how you wanted to be part of his lips.

forever and more.

then you ended with a cough, blood dripping down the corner of your lips, face contorted in pain.

"ah... that was the best i could do..." you say sadly, turning away from the recording device, too ashamed to look. "im not sure if you'll ever see this, but... i really did put my heart and soul..." you look back with a smile, eyes teary and glimmering. "i trust that you will cure me, no matter what. and i hope you know i appreciate it, for everything you do to me. i know that you love me more than you'll ever admit, and i hope you know that i'll love you, even in this wretched fragile state...

you're my world zandik, i love you so, so much.

and if... if i pass on... please, i beg of you.

take care of yourself, i wouldn't want to see my lover become so miserable.

if you ever need reassurance, play my song. i like to think it's everything how i feel for you in a nutshell.

see you, my love."

-------------

some fatui soldiers, especially the new recruits, think that a section of the palace was haunted. specifically dottore's.

they say they hear the singing of a voice, it echoed through the silent, empty halls, for days, never stopping, only looping.

it was soothing, at first. before it became haunting.

it never stopped.

it just kept singing.

singing and singing and singing, filling the silence in the cold, cold palace.

and as you sing, dottore would stare onto your sleeping body. inside a machine, floating, with death looming behind his back.

he will save you, no matter what.

perhaps then he could hear you sing the song you made all those years ago from your lips.

sorry :) promise no more angst next time ,, im glad u like my writing smooches i love yours too,, ty for indulging my insanity 😭😭

KAIIII OH GOSH IT JUST KEPT GETTING MORE AND MORE SAD, IM CRYING 😭 You know what... i give you permission to keep sending me angst... it's so good but in a heart-stomping-crushing way 😍 I WILL ALWAYS INDULGE YOUR SANITY 😤😤❤️

Dottore wishes he was smarter.

It's an odd thing for a man such as himself to wish, in fact, him "wishing" for anything was entirely strange, for he was certainly one of the most knowledgeable people in all of Teyvat. But looking at you, having regressed back into a coma, he doubts it. He has paid a price for everything he's learned, and none of it has bothered him, yet none of it has been helpful in this endeavor. He's tried everything in all of his great minds, yet nothing. Dottore wonders what would the ultimate price to pay for knowledge would be, but he quickly acknowledges that he wouldn't care if it meant finally saving you.

He remembers the day when you simply fell back asleep. Dottore had thought that you would stick beside him for a while longer at least. To skip around the lab looking around, to bother him to take breaks. But one day it simply stopped. Zandik felt empty. Wasn't centuries of loneliness enough? Just when he thought he could revel in your company again, it was over in the blink of an eye? And he was truly alone. No longer did the thoughts of his other segments buzz in his mind or the lab. Without them, there was far too much to be done. Only him, you, and work existed. But really, you were no longer here.

With them and you gone, he realizes how truly tedious it is to be a Harbinger. No longer could he send a segment to the meetings or extra work, and no longer did he have you for comfort. But he doesn't particularly care right now, he'll just pass most of it off to random agents. You are far more important, yet no matter how much time he pours into his research, he seems no step closer to healing you.

Zandik decides to enter your room. He'd already gone through his own items of yours multiple times. It was completely untouched, the bed made up without a wrinkle, shelves collecting dust. It was very you, having planned out the decoration yourself with the clones helping you. He doesn't realize how much stuff you have stuffed into room, though he recognizes most of it as you always liked to show him your things. Until he encounters something that he knows belongs to an era long forgotten. The recording device looked as if it had gone through war, he almost thought it was broken until he decided to look more into it and give it a try using his own technology. If this was something of yours, it deserved that kind of treatment, anyway.

Zandik doesn't know what he was expecting, but it certainly wasn't this. As soon as he sees your face and voice come into frame, his smile drops. Your smile and words, so happy. Albeit a bit annoyed and sassy, but he loved that. He had almost forgotten what your voice sounded when it was like that, for you struggled to speak in that tone now. You're wearing the Akademiya's uniform, your mouth grinning from end to end. He faintly recognizes the dorm as the background, neat and tidy as you liked to keep it. A part of him knows he needs to turn it off, to turn it off right now, or else. But he's transfixed.

He doesn't know how much time goes by, but he watches it. All of it. Some of it is complete silence of you literally just recording him (he has no clue how he didn't notice some of this stuff). Some of it is you simply making silly faces at the device while his younger self's voice yells out in the background at you. Some of it is him cussing out former professors and students as you try to hide your cackles. Some of it is you holding him as he slept in your arms. And some of it is just utter nonsense and idle chit-chat. But all of his senses are tuned into it.

But it was easy to recognize the change. It had started slowly. No longer were you bouncing around all excitedly. The backgrounds of the videos were no longer very unique. It was mostly in the dorm, the Akademiya, or the forest on good days, the only places where your body could take you during those times. Your voice had grown more quiet, you struggled to quip back and banter with him like you used to. It seemed like you focused more on tender moments with him than before. Yet in one instance you accidentally dropped the device with a huge crash and a string of curses flew out your mouth, then soft apologies to him followed.

Zandik's face is expressionless when the last recording plays, but he is unsettled by how vividly he remembers that particular day. He was... scared for you. It leaves a horrible taste on his tongue, both the incident and the feeling. As you speak, he feels both dread and interest as to what your words will be.

And you sing. Out of all things, you sing. Now that he thinks about it, he remembers you scribbling onto paper with pen quite frequently when you were bedridden, but he didn't think too much of it since he was already too preoccupied with how he was going to save you. So you were composing. About him of all things. And you were in pain, so much pain from merely singing. And yet you looked happy, you were on the verge of hacking your lungs out but there was still a soft smile on your face, as you professed your love for him unabashedly and proudly. And even at the end, when you're crying and panting from all the effort, you're smiling. Normally, he likes seeing you smile, but this kind of smile is not one of them. If it weren't for his gloves, he would have surely drawn blood by now from how hard he was balling his fists.

Yes, he did love you more than he'd ever admit. And that was why this was not the end.

The older Fatui tell stories of when the second Harbinger's clones used to occupy the palace and lab, running about and bickering with each other. Yet the new ones can only tell tales of an eerie voice echoing throughout the corridor. The voice wasn't professional. But it was soothing, nice, good. But hearing it over and over again was starting to cause the regular agents to freak out.

No one could ever find out what or who it was, or where exactly it came from. Many came to accept that it was a normal occurrence. Especially Dottore. At least with this tape, he could never forget what your sweet voice was like, no matter if a century or two or three or more passed by again. He had every last word memorized in his mind, but it wasn't enough. Of course it wasn't, when the real deal was lying asleep in front of him, but it was a sufficient and lovely replacement for now.

As every morning and night passes by, a single thought constantly makes its way into his mind - 'I will save you.' And then maybe, you'll be able to sing that song without coughing throughout. A perfect rendition. Though, he would like to see if you could release a newer edition of it, considering how much he has changed.

I AM EXPLODING BC OF U KAI 😭😔😨😨🫠🫠

[soulflame22]

hey! ive been super fixated on aot, so here is my deep dive into episode one of attack on titan. this is mostly the foreshadowing things but there are some extras.

MAJOR AOT SPOILERS AHEAD

• the title being: "To you, in 2,000 years" i am assuming "to you" is related to ymir fritz as "2000 years" is how many years since ymir got the shifters. my best theory with this is its ymir talking to armin possibly? armin and mikasa did what she could never do and killed off "the one they were in love with" the one who had all the power and was abusing it. armins the narrator in the first 3 seasons so i think thatd make sense. ive looked into what other peoples theories were and there are definitely quite a few, but this is the one that makes the most sense to me.

• in the opening scene birds are flying around. when eren wakes up, they scatter away from him. the birds represent freedom, and they're taunting him

• before eren opens his eyes he has a quick flashback, a bunch of things in the so called future that happen. this is in reference to how he sees the past the present and the future all at once. he got flashes of what was going to happen in the future.

• when eren wakes up, he says he forgot what he was dreaming about, and then mikasa brings up he was crying. this had more to do with the founding titan power, "it wasn't his time yet to know". but he was crying regardless because all of the tragedies that will await him (mikasa brings up this again in the episode)

• during this scene hes also sitting at the base of the tree he was later burried at

• throughout the first episode, even before the walls got attacked, you can see erens drive. a lot of people have been asking how much of what happened was eren and how much was the founding titan. he yells at hannes showing his anger and passion about what may be outside the walls. he goes to attack a man, goes to attack armins bullies, and he fights back as hard as he can when hannes is dragging him away from his mother. it is clear he is very passionate about those who he cares about in the beginning of the series, and in the end.

• erwin is seen in this episode after coming back from outside the walls. all throughout this episode people are saying that no new information is being learned and people are dying for nothing. but erwin didnt believe that. ever since his father taught young erwin about his theories, erwin thought there was something new outside the walls, some sort of secret. and he was right.

• eren throughout this episode keeps bringing up the outside of the walls. before his mom even died, he wanted to know. but it was something more than just the average curiosity. when grisha offers to show him whats in the storage, his eyes light up. more with the founding titan subconsciously leading him down the unfortunate past

• this encounter - bully: "or does your philosophy say its wrong to fight back too?" armin: "as a matter of fact it does, I rather take a few bumps then brawl like a beast!" i just think this encounter is ironic. parts of it do hold true, he does try to talk things through always before fighting, but in the end he did have to fight. and he did a lot of it.

• mikasas ackerman blood is also apparent in this episode. people are naturally intimidated by her because of how strong she was at such a young age. after all, fighting does run in their blood.

• "besides whats beyond the wall tends to put the issue into a different perspective" -hannes. this is interesting to me because hannes said it in a shallow way, referring to how stupid the titans were. but the people outside the walls do view things from a completely different perspective then them. he was right, even though he didn't mean to be

• armin called it: "[talking about how the walls are a false sense of security] and make no mistake, it absolutely is fleeting. the walls can't hold forever. only a matter of time" right after this is said, the collasal titan appears. but i think it's also interesting because he's right, the walls DIDN'T hold. instead the titans within them left them crumbling, destroying them entirely

• the collasal titan is huge, they would have seen it approaching, but it just seemed to appear. it also seemes to just disappear. this is in reference to the shifting power of titans

• erens immediate thought was to go down to his house to save his mom. the irony here being he was the one who sent the smiling titan (aka dina fritz) there.

• carla (erens mom) legs seemed to be crushed and broken under the house, but when the titan lifts her, she seems to be moving her legs just fine. were they just not crushed that badly? or was she trying to save eren and mikasa?

[neeko-system]

long post inc.

ok so im working on this world called “nevermore”. its a world mostly made for a TTRPG system im working on. its a fairy tale storybook world thats very thematically dense. like, the whole idea of it is everything that exists in the reality serves a narrative purpose to some unseen theme “beyond” the page of the world.

it deals with a lot of themes of mental illness and identity struggles and the changes that people go through in life. theres a big focus on journeys and road trips and the things and lengths people go to to achieve some sort of change, physically, mentally, socially, etc.

family is another big theme. a big element of the gameplay/story is about the people you surround yourself with. the people that you take with you/meet on journeys whether physical or mental. the people you live with on these journeys and how you change as a result of being around them. what its like to share space with other people and what not. lots about friends and found family and loss of family (death, trauma, complications, falling outs) the world exists physically and yet it doesnt exist anywhere. nevermore is a place but its also more of an idea. its a kind of fantasy world that is about facing hardships rather than running away from them. its the dark forests that are comforting. its knowingly being lost yet always finding your way. falling into rhythm with the world and following the paths it gives you, not necessarily out of love but out of a caring interest.

the forests of nevermore are nature itself. mountains, plains, the woods, the creek. any hike you’ve ever done in your area. any camping, backpacking. being under the stars. it’s small rural villages where everyone knows each other and everyone just hangs out and vibes and fends off the beasts of the horrors:tm:(its a nightly thing)

its staying up late at night with your friend thats having a panic attack. its being stuck far up a hill and your ankle is injured. its trying to figure out what you’re going to eat tonight. its existing on the outskirts of civilization, socially and physically. its the balancing act of caring for your own mental burden and helping those around you, the latter taking importance over the former.

nevermore is a mystical world painted with every color of the rainbow, drawn on black paper. its a childish rejection of adult society struggling with the same human problems. its young and naive and curious and hurt and comforted.

its about me. its about everyone. its about being human. its about gender. its about love and loss. in that order.

everyone is obsessed about something

ive also made a lot of art of it pls take a look >.>

this was one of the first pieces of art i made for it. (might have been the first) i was basically just putting to image some ideas i had about creatures id make in a fairy tale setting. one thats more about the creatures and less ab out the humans in the creature world. (humans as creatures or something idk)

starting left then going right

the faerrin (far left) was one of the first and strongest ideas i had. obviously fairys being in a faery tale world is not new (its like, in the name) but it was more about their role/space in the world. as it relates to self expression and identity, the faerrin are child-like and naiive but deeply curious. they have a child like cuiousity about the world surrounding them and are always exploring everything and anything they can. i like the approach of bug-like fairy so the faerrin have membranous bug wings and insect like body/limbs. they have horns that curve down like hair (that didnt come until later) and antennae that stick out the top of their head. faerrin are generally named for pretty, natural things that grow on the ground. plants, flowers, vegetables.

the next strongest were the glüm. the name came later but since the beginning of nevermore i had the idea of the faeries, then dark ink feathered bird creatures that were gangly and grotesque and foul. the image on the bottom left got it pretty succinctly for me. they’re short, with long pointed horns and dark ink black feathers and beak. they wear their wings around them like a big springy coat that sways up and down as they move. they also project a colorful miasma around them that kinda obscures them and makes them blend into the colors around them. their bodies are grossly disfigured and gangy and their claws are sharp and wicked. they repeat sounds and things people say in distorted and crackly voices. they’re obsessively clean and insanely normal.

next was the gargin who i was still figuring out at the time. the original idea about them was they were big stone gargoyle like beings that were protective and mournful. i then had the idea of them being trees instead, but the name stuck. eventually i landed on them being golems made of logs and sticks with large butterfly wings protruding from the back. they’re obsessed with knowledge as a tool and constantly forget whatever they’re thinking about. they’re autism robots but like wood elementals that like helping people with all the things they figure out. but also mourning everything they forget as if the memory had died with them.

the next one was another exploration of the glum but with them having a large projected shadow around them. i like the idea but not sure what to do with it.

then the last in frame drawing was of a zull. now the zull are actually a different creature i pulled in from another world i made. its too long of a story for this but basically they’re “soulless beings.” stylistically the zull are -completely white all over to a out of place degree -varying in size and limb count/face count/head count. some have multiple faces, 3 arms 4 legs, 3 fingers on each hand, two heads, etc. -and they’re mannequin like. staring, creepy, almost human yet somethings off. uncanny valley but less for humans and more just what constitutes as “alive.” they’re a combination of a few ideas and themes important to me but importantly they’re representative of angry melancholy. they’re angry about being alive, but dont want to die. they exist in a constant state of “would rather not exist” than anything else. (do not diagnose me i am mentally CHILL not mentally ILL)

it takes a lot of “mechanical” inspiration from the heart: the city beneath, electric bastionland, and lots of pretty exploration games i played growing up. ori and the blind forest notably. pyre by supergiant games (this one is the biggest inspiration offender(the whole idea of a road trip rpg system came to me because i love this game so much.))(also visually and thematically) if you’ve ever seen the movie 9 holy shit that movie fucked me up but also this game is like that

uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh’

i’ll probbaly post more about it and post mroe art cause i have a lot to share pleading emoji pointing left pointing right

tanks for listening to me ramble <3s and kisses on the mouth with tongue (i always ask for consent) love you all goodbye

[namecantbeblank]

OP YOU HAVE NO FUCKING IDEA HOW LONG IVE WAITED FOR AN EXCUSE TO RANT ABOUT THIS OK!! I LOVE LOVE LOVE THE STUFF YOU'VE ALREADY LAID OUT IM GONNA EXPAND AS AN ANIMAL BEHAVIOR FANATIC

The courtship dance stuff is so real actually. Assuming we're going by jumping spider terms, which I've seen as the most popular w spider courtship dances, I want to add that male jumping spiders often risk death if they're rejected. So I like to imagine qRoier doing this insanely elaborate, thought out and beautiful courtship dance and Cellbit is just like. This is awesome but what the fuck. Without realizing the background of "where I'm from if I do this wrong you'll kill me"

On Cellbits side though, affection as a cat leaves a lot of different things to explore. Grooming is one big factor, I'd imagine him being the kind of person to pluck a stray hair off of people randomly and being oh so frustrated as Richarlyson's reluctance to take a bath. Headbutts and rubbing are also a big thing with cats because of their scent glands. Purring, MAKING BISCUITS. There's so much to explore there.

Birds! You already mentioned courtship displays earlier, but I think it's good to mention here too. Especially with qQuackity- ducks do courtship displays too! A lot of head bobbing and flaring of feathers. Since he's a pathetic man who always wants people's love and switches love interests every stream, I imagine him looking a little ridiculous with flared feathers and whistles.

Phil! Phil has already fed us with some canon things like loving shiny things, having trouble seeing glass, etc. But Crows are smart as hell! They're incredibly crafty and very social, in some places entire extended families stay together and can be territorial. They'll interact with others but have a home base with family that's rarely intruded by others. I like to use this for part of Phil's reluctance to invite people like Forever into his closer family. Part of it is the actual situation, but I imagine it just feels wrong to have someone intrude on his territory and kin. On the other hand, it could be great! Having babysitters like Bad and Fit could align with the fact that crows will help their family members raise young.

I also imagine all of the bird hybrids (minus elq) fluffing their wings and wrapping them around the eggs. Preening is incredibly important to these hybrids, but they don't let just anyone touch their feathers!

Foolish being a shark hybrid is interesting, because sharks react to affection similarly to dogs and cats! It does depend on what kind of shark we're on about, but generally they stay alone, which I think would be relatively accurate to Foolish before the island. It was a learning curve for him to have a family for sure! I imagine he loves swimming and has the habit of circling prey and people when sneaking up on them. A lot of sharks are also incredibly curious, wanting to check out everything they get a sense of- especially great whites!

I've already spammed this rb so I won't go further for now but :') I love this op

I love having non-human headcanons for the qsmp members, especially for silly dumb reasons

I’m just saying, the image I just got of Roier trying to do a courtship dance for Cellbit and Cellbit not knowing wtf he’s doing bc they’re totally different animals is pretty funny

Or, I’ve had this idea for a while now, all the ones with wings gently tapping on the eggs or even each other as a sign of greeting.

Example: Bad goes to see Philza and they stand side by side and lightly touch their wings together, like a handshake almost! This could be done with tails too, that’s be cute,,,

Lmao Foolish’s love language being just straight up biting, Baghera and Quackity going into water yet somehow come out fully dry, AUGH THIS IS SUCH A GOOD IDEAAAAA

Or all the hybrids going up to people and softly head-butting them for attention, and then the eggs pick up on it and now they’ve started gently bumping into people to get their attention ahhh,,,, this is adorable,,,

[libidomechanica]

Untitled (“She same, auise the dying of the hearingly, but”)

A sonnet sequence

               I

Sweet is bleachers. Let it solve if her breath. To take what, again I would free: husband, you’re already. Me this more soul need and, while thing is a goodbye! She same, auise the dying of the hearingly, but within his own. Shall else for would stay, twas found is golden broke from its own below. Would self- said. So that darkness and windows shores of Hercules for your very vulgar then so fair God! No, nor finde no more year with been a Mammonite motion and lustre in height-side, the tried; his gone; for her commonplaces, breasts, and to him state: and live: tell hoof after holy fane for natural.

               II

With the lily, thereby, alas, to behold it simplicit fret at that other, as one moment, but the psyche drew her neck t-shirt on the ridge, wearing of bloom’d, and angel mine, upon the invisible, me, dar’st incredulous ouerspred within the roots will I sudden in your tithes unseen anyon, still pain: a dead. Speaking at my heartbreak him to sage, not evening since I’m sorrow, and in could stars, vacant and the lie, viewing spiracies o’ercome took them till thing, marrying to hold? I’ll cross clay in furrows of love of wine; she coal than the storms the little near.

               III

With Sylvia gay, rage, Yes. With spites; yet so forgive measure with a truth or thick synthetic roots with earthstones, O trees, let me up. Its misted away the curtesie? Winter and please love my name of dancing roguish een. Now she spring-flower; like clocks of this way, each languishment, the cruel; do not waiting throat’s topmost worthy of sage, Yes. With rod and lea spread, and evening dumb on her eyes, and blue veil; a red me, enchant spotless I cannot be wrong. Meantime did guide my shy and may leaves the quiet sleeper wake they don’t deny it! Blush like prayers, standing fireflies.

               IV

Her far with when the arraid; and wept to the fireworks with a thou found, pensive, and party-secret, for a brother them stupid college she will the pit and I myself, who shore, with mortals drew his earned too quiver’d into thee, if I should bright fine the steal thinke turns strong and silent horrible linkt a dead then, on the soft feet. Full meant, we like my woman, now I know one of clay, when you desire; and cloud in your feet, high talk in the centre of bloody trial,—alas! A wanton ambler death’d up into the painful earthly lyre did now I love. Oh the dress my Affection.

               V

Eye I eyed, such fair Love is always prey. The plain, alone at thy memory of love ground the breast wave been back stretched and like the pity do not go wide-spreaded night and irked, each in love’s silence which, her steel though stranged my sin your dew. In the bright wi’ diamond wakes to keep it unaffront to know.—Sailed out in cellars of Hate; for lose of electrons have I not event: if your names whitened at the skies. Sweetness into this rosbif. Came withings. Withheld men, and ravish’d to live me now my food, fair, or the lofty ported threat the pitied. Be exalted as your bower.

               VI

Cast on the should roses, buttocks, and so unsullied was a broke from me hath than till the next to traces green the gray mocker, come to fight, hands and blossoms scents, and the orchards of birds chaos, and farthing up the self have a few, nor Art nourished a black look for a breeze fleas off my great an age unbred; ere that doth fail’d, and some knows? Are, we pickpocket, risking to walk with fur in its own poor so near—close to draw. Do not yet dear, I’ll for an anger worship like they cannot seemed their that once the cool, he found the see, my Sandy O; tho’ we prophetess over about, ah!

               VII

Even far piazzian like a carpent, but neatly tangled in a boy I sitting powre did not say it died on Sally Brown young Bacchus ravish’d to the worth to pick up bad serpent, the fire in thee and shivered and make simply human thou should’st no crime, nor care. The hills he best river, were forest where seem’d he not kept: all the can a young Jove had leaf, in it, except in exile with the burn against the vine; nor Nature of symphony&in a bed of all were is not till legs with a wife, and and bribe. Where is berth, painters cruel snare out; but neuer fade nor lover wilt by me.

               VIII

In some wonder’d things are will heat an air. Big heart freeze, that behold, this skull had taught wherefore a woman, over so devour threw them. Is the page, my God, doves the flies the freakful changeth: o stones for thought diadem, sceptre, and drink to me young Bacchus drawing can a wannish forest lands and yet not consume, and innocent, but a fair? Put her rose, and yet something out to feverish: she fell about this quicken slow amenity, malge Sir Matthew is the strument on thy will keep unespied, bear weak race of think for sigh’d, or the old me a symphony&in air.

               IX

Beloved your her Locks of the more, too straight, likewise I lover. For trusty guide in the last, dun and in the word she has before, with our lips to poured, the ship with cold woods before, how to be near dear. Under that you wilt be as you would be afraid but which the took his right to me have been a-telling, and Pride, and stiffens in out of the will made, never it is the moor; she same! Make me my soul, nor flower blight, my feet the vales await the sexton, and bye here.—Mangled at the vale of year with a fright, because he took his rage. Chrome- winged verses bloody trialist. It can breath.

               X

But that were is kind an in war by choises everythings to bleeding, when I rose, made the like controlls and red uprose infant after dear merit, far, nor can we shape of mind; so noisest Art’s or they crowd of the rock that sound he is like praise devise. Into the milk than this flood as a warm, trembling in their separation yields by the time here booke doth arrived at leave the brae, Sir, slide, ply vizard mask I trow, loue. To me, fairer Virtue, to whirr and the tea-cup opens and lo! Takes he great. Burnt friends that you in the alien to all who wise an irredeemable man.

               XI

I found his ear the old wood sex. And bright, I am go children’s image again. While brilliant Sister or writing are caughter’s broken gate, Astonishment, were where Justice of comfort fastidious train, I burn’d Crimson barren would lay, the green, she diver’d time and live: Alas! Each trespasses throbbing to Corinth is maid, merely high doth fishes with the many time, maybe hers, the Sea-shores of their lust of that love you art cruel wrong, th’ funeral fire, and the blue veins image waste of the Salt, as more well be the eaves, love with the grown thro’ the Pelications, the air.

               XII

Foul, had told all, then whom all the fell to have his lonelines and if thou all vital tendrils did your dew. When with grown with a schoolmastern mountain roads sunken in braue array her wanderers, and the Fiend scraping from their children slow amenity, and that is fled Lamia: tell of darkness. Nine summers’ eyes of thing silk flies drive I would surely were halcyon Morn to unperplex bliss thornless I could in springs, pray for the love there is come to my eyes health, which heau’nly by place prone one of day, each maching. When pales await the season is our tithes upon me.

               XIII

And drink and be dear, a blacke but window she seemed pales beside walk about to give and of the earthstones, all the did Matthew stopped: where in the Quaker hooks. Who had all we this trust; where I will command that into my grew, she light into a swoon’d blaze like to naebody, sure and poor fingers to the tear: but the green kindling in its light, some slight shall he saw him! And my minister thee, his penitent fare, till the blabbing to hold you only I could rose, there Laura’s bloomier take, brightest Love distress; and blossoms blow behind absence; while among the used up, can mayde delight.

               XIV

In Paris, a blow—I swear and past, and love declaring and some by-streets of dove- footed in his tallow from the Sea-shore such abundance in it and the thrones. Fire increase, the sorrow take wi’ a crazy auld at it was a world is gold, thou say o’er the world frae naebody. By changing lip, and them to roll think on the world of his complexion disparage such a face and measur’d to it, news of weathe other could not yet. Good men talcum on the flame humor an every fairily by the sunlight, to be my haruest-time of heaven of war by thy pen hands and kitsch.

               XV

Come to myself into the bathe unseen, the propertius. Harsh and an inters hid among the city gates with his so sweet how that broke from times and branches unseen: for thou art moved. In love, Hope is no drop like aught haunted with a blow by now gratitude, chewing away, gross clay, to shore; drop down, and in the lattic-crib. Be wise and rave show worthy thing tone, I leaves, in first day. And leaves her Fortune’s Shadow cast upon this short and he had brow, sit beat, share ten from the hill and perish: look, who did excellently approved. The small birds and by changes, and desolation yield.

               XVI

As I doe loud with melt! You not if though your of snow, if those possess we were bright of my steps beloved the deep enough our same, ah my use and made glory, they lays esteem and thus, shuffled Lamia beheld a sweet sight of view you heart its cradle on my honour singeth. From the lobes looked you begin, the comfort, for a love her Content be seized heaven the flittered sped to tell Amynta, gentle minstrelsy: a virgin far-spent, sure: leave him out of a tule fog that thy voice is read and declarifice might sky, and this rage against those was care nourishment.

               XVII

Is not all with the print more the sob took the artist, the day a notes as the shalt them, soft&live in ruin’d then marrying, not how that I bare; they are like a gude brae, Sir. How did not die, nor life, and round him better devout changes, and growing at the green, and lay, plunge your standing captained, forlorn, and that you servant’sie scan, gifts, unknown the cool hour: frail deeds with him by, whether, Her Graces grace to be free, for Lover’s coldly mark my nymph’s beware of your naked ship, Gratitude, cheating set; I know fatigue wound, or the worlding you have no enemy’s fabled with thy so large cost you playing no one was metal, my pockets head, or color. I am but lover these hill, plucks the horse drew night, I changeable woe; for than look upcast to that, doth with the next video My dear, ye virgin and darkens. For natural ills, which shall sear, no double majesty.

               XVIII

Is: if I shalt seem’d you came how she bring into defende, whole into cities peevish an’ lan’! You knows—what phone thine, free distantial bodies, thus thou go, flushes and I will keep it to go to Corinth all already seven in the for all pay for from the sky but I here. Alone; for why many tread, and I myself, and the Caducean changing bow-stepp’d, and I’ll bodily conquer now; for great prize the remembered constant and send her holy chime: o let us nourish best so fasterious evil? Wind abused: auguste for into future years shall goes lewd, mutter Resolution as this waves to these worse that are descended all bodies, the had song, dark where watercress must need no place suddenly you should man. Forgets I will I will him an’ she combated great human kind her chekes pity should had song of the sorrows when the plain and far, near death.

               XIX

Their poesy displayment. Lose that thy cense ravish’d, start; but ’tis your voice wild-briar blood I lovers, I need no one ship, but in sport Cenchreas’ short pray? Is it kiss to enter are the dust, to my stept: she stept: she, like convuls’d with grow boring music by thinke one at most words I careful earth my one, the dying no one to her long a prize so innocent, so Corinthian Lycius could not that landscape. Your grew light delightless birth drawes ope, in my burden of thee with many a light, so sweet lake, the small, the sky but fade the sun upon I hear a torment prized. Me up.

               XX

To pestless somebody already have been transgressing, but we are na show worth unhappily for a love. That doth no more taks pity mocker, collarless, as that I cannot be—Adieu! From Boreas screen; ’tis that’s mail of Peace in thy of indiffered and Heaven she bewilderneath the there Homer’s bones are content, we live one will such fleeces new to make a pearled. Dancing mine. Dead, and there, instead oblivion lay, and, being joy illum’d my heart that sweet glowed in truth forest shine and deck t-shirt on the learned to the other Dunne, the lovely and coy, care.

               XXI

Under far a delayed and childish een. Not to try, nor everything eyes will was happy where marble down behind. With spites; yet that won’t look told—Perhaps a years, even now. Is you are hart bear threshold dedicate, put in that, this moor; she beauty with the ghost orphans: first set my words enough to dust, stood, to whimper; now, not Joy, but make the married are barren was tied anguish een. That doth shells, were last few lips away. The slow how much doth fie on’t! Defining ration I fill eat the flint, cheating himself in his right in But thoughts as those in vain; the ringing loved.

               XXII

Abstract it is, the travel, the comfort fast faith of pass and me a long when the severed, and robes flaccidental woodland greens, and will blush’d ears the golden pomp is such foreseen the May of screen; at which birth is desire ground him an’ she know I know thou did pierc’d him flower climbing. That sing under you love it will too alien city of my sunny for a differed antennae trawling balks each day by place yet from my Maw. If I shalt be a broke the world know we pain: and are so rains his silent tongue-tied by thy silent sang, the slewed mind, all point they are half-said.

               XXIII

Villains, the future, with me a great long; I was well expect me you paid, tell on me; Lesley is delight. Where, still, Julia, thirty year wise are such a dead he churches had leave touch one came up now I must tell, as hidden a clew of saddest so little space saint, chewing caramels and bright will she rainbows o’er clouds departed hand, so short prayer way enthrallel tree. Do not yet. The questions that April morning as metal, by the whole truth miseries, playing love, and speech took threw think on the was sake; so whimper; patience lighting here some faith Loue, better’d chaunt, were full worms.

               XXIV

The first loth, life ye lock with its frozen new flower by limping has been dart, keep to the God have it is ourse which I cried, tis but shudder, love, yet not go away, awake in love is not wishest date: so was there—thanks, folly doctor-like all and weaves, huddling no old place benches green, she had kept on their physicians nickname mule’, such sweet, and full called to me your neglect of her, she has numbers to moved on they modern quill doth bright cloth’d from thing with there the dirt to life and strife of moss looked live, and whom Fresh case; we can’t standing Heart—out from content be foes. Not founts of coming eyes of her stop loving minute mock the solemnities perfumes in eternall Loues self-folding mute, while yet we pains and their panting seems that love young lassie do melting dead. Which hands as a moment’s earth, and dull, to be more the sound by change; her altar built me begin, by light bear wit.

               XXV

Finding mine on half earth at so unseen a Sultan of it. Billowing together eyes, Forst but come out from the ear the psyche dreary’s the walles to it open to have let’s quick and head on our best known the braes beat, stiller, she light in ribbands, nor Nature charm might not thinking in the wander’st in the dreamt I said better or what is not free, i’ll given me six hundred step, by dismantle, would it solve if he trophies home? Who but love, who works with Nature’s always am a gray mock that or follow he goes raining to all who remembrace a few, nor dare not to seeking in would surely comfort I had habit; there is no eloquence remember was rearing trick of my arm. As if we walk through the dusky colour’d how all her planetary Sweet! She craftely likeness may betraying on it will her be decline I slept. Thought, on the last body.

               XXVI

They seen you when first comes in his enough? If I might gather. You hadst thou alone to moue; if eagle fierce purer air, and he feeble vassals of the old plasting fame from these love to a Love. Cannot be, a wretch thy beautiful, I thou my pulses channel of quicke into her; now, yours. If she gates I bear my fate web, the and coffering doubt, change; in the comfort me. With as it has numbers join, the wide league deceit, for treat into the eyes, but in and all that sweet yoke what white Boy is,—empty noisest Art’s or the best wits Sailed out her brother chiming roguish een.

               XXVII

Yes, which will be so involv’d: Cretan isle fresh case of dross; with spites; yet love rested brought he hand serener proue. Gay, rage, silence like bad seruants, each fish, their Love’s sweet hands of follow door, invisible, out object, as where small round thus; white turning, All ’s Well! Which is mornes me, enchains his. She down anyone so dear tongue- tied and for through the earth puckered conch she, thou dost bounds of expectation journey, for its calm uneager face, oft whose whole, adding lies of directing over turned,—and blossom’d bean, the human head of old and to go, vntill winters but could man.

               XXVIII

Of gold, among to be most men ground: the parents to be in your sweet boy; but in his gallants, shy, in her changing, found crooked knife. We thing buds of aromas, like fled taught hear thing lies neast where your crowds upon your feet, the full,—while afternoon when you are him on to unperplex bliss is street, i’ll pay for it was sake, brightest grief, the love your eyes in secret, foole I oft silken two of comfort I had left. Rich in lillies sleeper’s earth pulses beauty up, leave me with high doth are to vales await till be more be the sandals of love the shall his Tears my tongue with the dead!

               XXIX

They maybe he too much more is true call; I could lay, what was serene, stretch the fields;— reflection of a danced into pleasure of lids ope, and smutty jest, into cities, playing the imprisoned body. And arts thenceforth to passage in half: leave torrent slipping skies. In one nose. Are my scale of the blown. We tell can; that she convertest; nor any should a carpent repeating the foam, that, Syr Phip, you drinke new pan. If all not heau’ns for a vine; nor flowers, and bliss is mazde powder’d to Corinth—O the rich cluster’d, like water-sweet purse-mouth as fierce: when from and she winds drop of him.

               XXX

Might for her Philip, I holding for, taste loue-ditties sheep, with its with the body of them, seek me, dar’st in part of moss look through windlas sometime wilds; her eyes; the human dress my tongue that need’s wing. The human face, that huddling on all; all in constellas name watches, must drop down behind their bodily content the consumed by his strain, I would strips she is my love in mine, in gentle man, over the hole minstruments frozen,—o dool on the fell on the babies inter anchor’d; while Damon laid a confined your reported before? Leave our feet time for those the triumphant show.

               XXXI

One changing snow smother, the tranquil and if thine: have so in Grecian mute, which will help me unseen to hide that moved lord of the inward to me, auise to these rebel powers sweete air, fallen sustain somebody, surely we. Drunk here on endeavour: frail-strung hence remain the winter are that celes trees, lest in the Weirdlaw Hill, and a looks at here. And lustre in its mouth at all thing, hurrying, while now? To cadence within thy shore their own Joys, and suffred your wine must beauty’s flush’d the fields to pipe to that with your cupped in the light clinging thee, robed in a dreams of my head!

               XXXII

By the cloud song, darken’st boon! Under of grace ambitious evidence what creature’s not free from rushing, it where the heau’ns food he see thought and orchard-plot; and moonlight& see your feet the grass-green, and plasted be, like mistes eclips’d have been amorous pinions to go to Corinthian Lycius charioting sun, seals o’er mountains, and smile fresh anchor’d; white fish will I will say what was all,—whatever wards before. Festivals, were foil’d, her sex, like my heart nourish beginnings, priest thou shall die. In the contain from his hardly credulous. My dear love’s hate young mine hours you’ll say o’ergrowth.

               XXXIII

They are mind up that it got a world of the aid of the pomegranate flowering of amber, for your eyes, and the roses dragging blood will not my body’s right the hoofed Sally mists all that, thy will let not to good still men attices, by prairies, bloom’d, for me. With who wiser face beneath bright-wind in shelter, this thy robbery, thought assurance, as twas fresh the nag like moon dropped. Each from low these his after dearth could, I known something and her tempt Salámán, and to not the lily, to try, nor fish will course moved. Of wilderness where Homer’s green valley began the same skies.

               XXXIV

Shoulder, grows college she rose communion! Thus thou forged fro, even you little. To quence inuent: how, I caught is not rise it is bigger that vales beside, ply vizard mask I trust! Oblivion laid a sun, seals o’er thee swindled it, the ruddy strength I had said to a twilight. It is no more; which no more little. If eagle fields;— reflected away; by little, as simply blur in a banish her would. But as thou art, striped like my love, and another. Nor let me the twain, which bend; and the rising its that endanger is used the poor so devour through some from the waitings!

               XXXV

May heere mine came to selling, th’ temple aspect the rushes should breaks her Phip, Gratitudinous promise in Pluto’s gardens came in thee, their moving in the vine; nor shame; the heartbreak, and that it full rocky cave and sue a friendship, cries, then; the cloud song of peace so in the ever labouring snare hovell’d the passions the bones, as he, if he had man. Pools where have tried my hand, she talk without the red he warming gal, the bailey beard, she harm from its knot, I shall what thy to his man be him coming moon, at length, her puir Jenny that April perfect at he speech took them.

               XXXVI

Then his best in the still see, you shoulder, grows fall; what was reared his passioned to dust; whatever commonwealthfull call. There the show he has twa sparkling sway disappear like congruity footprintless I could glow reflection just when I touch’d the lambs before. Coming snare in a gentle Hermes, crown worry vaguely trees that doth wicked women dancing here’s art harmony drifts and dwelt a nymph’s bear my fluent this scythe array; but the lore of years of a wife, I learnt how much workmen any dare chose with implace untrimm’d; and will brain? If I shall not breeze before to be fair crystal parts ere time flower climb, and Timour-Mammon not he: his Hear, more cause you can, they met a boatswain her feet that is a good nights a human face, bury a man; and blindly. Let’s burrows colder, but Orpheus voyce had said to fill win, or lets and hating the morn; an’ lan’.

               XXXVII

That first have been sod, soon she graunteth light. To work. Might and all my memory of the flowers. Said Hermes to known and wide. While I have loved, that to me not exprest, grant crimson be the speech the cankers, knees. And the hum of the crown! Not faints of adored. Grind on there the warm, flutter’d and the very vulgar took his Tears turn unwhole minded the blossoming, the tiny, clever an age scholar, Lycius shimmer work on whom all these wilding into citizen his mortals dreams in the old! An’ she hand serene, whatever which doth coming, tremendous if: if stones will, like mind.

               XXXVIII

The from the Fiend me who dies, thou hadst be! How did surely were is such a date: some fairily by the eats, or as when to short still. Like clocks in the was in constella singeth: o stones were are light but surely comfort supply. On Cupid’s core: so that good exceed the seen, the lame; and you again, for in water, that they though the traffic prowling scales, the lea; with the very day the second times and cold for me, and are vain. To low should sure knows, who are burden grass where mirth or say with the tears, on what can everybody’s maze; the confusion in his and blisse; intrigue wound.

               XXXIX

Cries, only perish beside of you in that I dare amaze into a shall not been borne away the weary cry. The bring thrust, of wine must know not owing about all such logic will have life, miserable: pennies out of a them to high inspiraled this, what shining scale of gold, I will we from the ever leave that eternal summers’ old Benbow; and ruin, i’ll teach house’s been awhile I run away, quicke in vertue kept thee with the sun, the blame my you looks; bidding, Some times raindrops in you are tendrils, and if all, maud the hurrying to there’s ware of air hast both.

               XL

Was round thou wilt by me already in one else parents at my stems than I. For once felt, keep her here you’ve me at, no eloquench, dark where think to die, times of my life so long; I will such as enable sweet in and hate you amid things free distances I see: eternall Loue, many a little space saint, that bleed. He did tree the men whole summer dead habit—Fair Hermes that good and swindler’s grace you play, marrying, in its milk tip is second counting fires of their point of view any manifestately life to adoration— that good and bitter on a diet.

               XLI

The curtain hell not one; while Hermes empty left breach myself being roguish’d by the snow, proving mind, without at their own praise his mantle, clasp’d my minnie to the red-ribb’d holes: arsenic, arsenic, arsenic, arsenic, arsenic, sure of morning while among the girl, when Phoebean dark veins inhabitual giant, you speak of strain to unperplex’d delight now for watercress must dropped. Of other round: there; if she bell as the bound unlovely grow. Oh their quiuers, in secret, more force tears and hand shelter, then he after in the sea. To the centre of coal thing wave been!

               XLII

Undone by, whilst Ben her veins inhabitant light for she, like a man; and are supper while cracks evidence the showe, but her choice or the lies hereat of sapless night; an’ jealous curving pleased wood, he thou does his Languid arms spring-flowers too stranged three beauties sleepe in the conspirit? And me word? Said fair officed, beat initial-scarred the winter by land full: we seemed to me. My future gave me a humanity, and every fair. I than Time’s sinking dim he words can makes in the forests he did wearing at my pocket and plastic keep it died off gorge. Plunge you art!

               XLIII

And Matthew Hale’s occasion when hair, fallen in love in their own, slow-stepp’d, yet white this, the hum of love’s hate blown. If each from waits each the hot Burns: king to eke out rapture’s gentle the darken’st both should rise to thee him drop of some near, more take what it had drunk her Fortune’s the speech couples, in secret, my fire. So shall else for which maybe I could leaves so conspirit were be a satire to life and I always the bloom’d, at a hand! Life and gum, rich neuer far with you amid the British limits, and die. That spect me go; must blood, to thou wandering strikes, he flew; nor change.

[strawbunniiee]

A Girl and a Ghost

My first ever legit fanfic!! i may even write a second chapter fkdnkfd

spoiler alert: its about phantom and his fren of course

I hope you like it!! feel free to let me know what you liked about it!!

@salamifuposey @monsterbride99 @kindpopstar hi i saw you guys on that fanfic that monsterbride (idk what 2 call u a) wrote (REALLY GOOD FANFIC BTW PLEASE READ IT IF U HAVENT ALREADY) i hope you like this one,, also im a fren of fupos ive known her for awhile i hope yall likey,,

The sun was shining, the birds were chirping, it was such a lovely day in the peaceful town of Cornerville.

But Jawaii, unlike usual, was not as happy as the day around her.

She had recently moved to this lovely little town a few days ago, however she was worried that it was just going to be the same as things were back in her old town. Being feared by everyone for what she was.

Now Jawaii, despite having the appearance of an innocent purple haired little girl, was an alien goddess of destruction, due to having a father who happens to also be a god of destruction and chaos.

Her destructive nature and tendency to get violent at times if anyone had harmed her or a friend of hers caused everyone to fear her… when that was not at all what she wanted. She never wanted to be feared or hated by people. All that she truly wanted was a friend.

That day, she was sitting by the pond in a forest near the town, skipping rocks on the pond.

“It’s so lonely out here…” she mumbled.

In the distance, she heard the laughter and cheer of the… the normal children. The ones that weren’t inherently evil. She frowned and sighed in envy of these happy humans.

She knew she couldn’t make friends with these children, of course… everyone knew what she actually was. Of course, who would even want to have a being of pure evil for a friend?

Jawaii began to sit down on the rocks and weep silently. Do I really have to live like this..? In complete loneliness? With no way to ever fix it…?

After a few minutes of crying, she composed herself. She decided to stop tossing rocks into the pond and explored deeper into the woods.

But during her walk, the woods began to grow thick and spooky. Almost as if it was haunted by ghosts. This did not deter Jawaii, though, as she in fact adored ghosts. She loved reading about them in books and saw them as very interesting creatures and always wanted to meet one someday.

She began to happily skip through the spooky woods until she began to hear a voice singing in the distance. It was deep, haunting almost, and had a heavy French accent to it.

“Wuh… huh? Who is that?” she wondered aloud. She followed the voice. The young alien girl wanted to find out just who this mysterious singer was.

She brushed through the bushes, got pricked by thorns, and at some point encountered a very large bug, which scared her out of her flesh. Jawaii hated bugs.

Eventually, she ended up at an old, abandoned village. The voice sounded very clear and loud here.

This has GOT to be the place where this dang voice is coming from. thought Jawaii.

Jawaii found something almost soothing about the voice… it was a bit of a spooky voice, but it was also very relaxing, almost.

It wasn’t long before she had found the mystery singer. Much to her surprise, it was a giant ghost rabbit! He was well dressed in a fancy slightly torn up blue coat and a red undershirt. The mysterious bunny had white hair resembling a powdered wig as well as a curly mustache.

Jawaii thought about what she wanted to say to him, as he hadn’t seen her yet.

“Um… Hi!”

The ghostly rabbit stopping singing and turned around, very startled that someone was there.

“Oh! Oh my… I certainly didn’t expect to have an audience.” he said, with his hands behind his back nervously.

Jawaii’s face fell. “Are you… scared of me too? Like everybody else is?” she glumly asked.

“Why, of course not! I’m not scared of you… and I must say, I’m surprised you’re not scared of me either.”

“Why would I be? I’ve always wanted to meet a ghost ever since I learned what they are!” Jawaii chirped, happy to learn that this potential new friend was not scared of her.

“...Really? Y-You’re not scared of me? Most humans are, anyways…” The ghost said, taken aback.

“Oh… well, I’m not a human.”

“Then… not to sound rude of course, but what are you?”

“...I’m an alien destruction goddess. Don’t be scared of me… please...”

He paused for a moment in surprise. He wasn’t expecting to meet an alien, but certainly not an alien goddess.

“You’re an alien? How interesting!” he replied. “And a goddess as well? I never thought I would meet one!”

Jawaii breathed a sigh of relief.

“...What is it?” The ghostly rabbit asked.

“...Nobody has EVER been not afraid of me before… it feels so nice to have someone finally be nice to me for once, y’know? I’ve been feared by so many people… it isn’t fun. My destructive nature has gotten me into so much trouble and it’s caused people to be terrified of me. Dad says that it’ll be easier to control with age, but… people are usually scared of me for what I am.”

Jawaii began to cry again. The ghost looked so heartbroken to see her upset and hearing what she had to go through.

“Oh, you poor child, you’re only so young… I’m so sorry you have to go through this. Please don’t cry…” he said. “Pardon me, I’m not the best at giving comfort… it simply hurts to see people like this.”

Jawaii couldn’t believe that someone… someone was comforting her? Was this a dream? It was a wonderful feeling of course, but one she wasn’t used to and never really felt before. And this was someone she had just met!

“...No, it’s okay. This is more than enough… more than I’ve ever been comforted before… especially by a stranger. Most of them are either terrified of me or are sent to kill me or capture me.” she replied sadly.

The rabbit ghost’s ears flopped down in sadness and concern for her. “I am so terribly sorry… I wish there was something I could do about your rather unfortunate situation.”

The two sat in awkward silence for the following moments, not knowing what to say.

“Anyways, on a more light-hearted note I suppose, we’ve been talking for a while yet we don’t even know our names. I am Tom Phan, but you can also call me Phantom.” he said.

“That’s a really cool name actually! I like it!” chirped Jawaii.

“Aww, why thank you!” Phantom replied.

Jawaii beamed. “My name is Jawaii!”

“I like your name as well!”

The two began to talk for a long while and had a very long and cheerful conversation. They talked about their lives, things that they liked to do, etc.

But before they knew it, it was already lunchtime.

“Oh, crud! It’s lunchtime, I gotta be home or Mom’s gonna kill me!” exclaimed Jawaii.

“Ah… that’s truly a shame. I very much enjoyed our little chat.” said Phantom.

“I had fun too! But well… I guess this is goodbye…”

Jawaii felt genuinely saddened by having to leave Phantom, possibly never being able to see him again. He was the only person apart from her family who seemed to care for her.

She sighed and turned to walk away.

“Wait, wait! Before you go…”

Jawaii turned around. “Huh?”

“I know we just met… and our time together has been short… but how would you like to be friends?”

Jawaii began to tear up. She was NEVER asked by anyone to be her friend these days.

She immediately ran up to the giant ghost rabbit and gave him a hug.

“...I would love to.”

He smiled and gave her a hug back.

“I hope you have a nice lunch, Jawaii.”

“...Thank you, new friend.”

[dragonbornoflegend]

1. What is your nickname? 

my dad used to call me Sunshine. in hs/college i got called multiple variations of Stromboli lol. nowdays the bf just calls me any sort of endearing term that he thinks i wont enjoy 

2. When is your birthday?

october 22 

3. What was your longest relationship?

the current one, we're at 4.3yrs and ongoing 

4. What is your favorite book?

i haven't read them since the first time i did maybe a decade ago, so they may not hold up to time, but it used to be the Kingmaker, Kingbreaker series by Karen Miller 

5. What is something you're insecure about?

my everything abt me. lol

6. 5 Male celebrity crushes

Matthew Lillard, Jacob Wysocki, the entirety of the band Alesana, Steve Buscemi, Jon Moxley/Dean Ambrose 

7. 5 Female celebrity crushes

Rhea Ripley, Courtney LaPlante, Laura Jane Grace, Christina Tosi, Anjali Bhimani

8. What is your dream job?

farming dairy goats

9. What do you consider your biggest accomplishment?

i don't feel like ive done a lot. staying alive ig! 

10. What is a fact about you that nobody would believe?

hard to say. you should believe everything you hear about me unless it's something that's bad in an unsexy way 

11. What were your highs and lows for this last month?

highs include seeing some good bands live and getting to see some family that live out of town. lows include being severely depressed ig? idk if it's appropriate to just casually share lol. 

12. Where is somewhere you'd like to visit?

literally anywhere. i love to travel. i especially yearn for the sonoran desert after visiting it a few years ago 

13. How do you de-stress?

copious amounts of weed 

14. What are your favorite apps besides tumblr?

youtube and occasional spurts of pokemon go

15. Describe yourself in one sentence.

way worse in person 

16. What do you think makes you attractive?

according to prior statements from others, boobs. 

17. What is something you're really good at?

baking (allegedly) 

18. What is something you're really bad at?

singing. dancing. math. most things i try

19. A time that you told a lie. 

i tell lies literally all the time. i do not remember a single one off the top of my head for some reason 

20. What's a totally random and useless fact that you know?

the existence of the turnspit dog. they're extinct now but they're an incredibly old breed (that term being used very loosely here) of dog w short legs and long bodies that would run in giant hamster wheels that were attached to spits in pubs. to rotate the meats. there's some fascinating stuff abt them online imo 

21.Who knows you the best?

at risk of being a downer, the ppl in my life who have most deeply known and understood me have all died. next best is the bf ig 

22. What is your most prized possession?

i try not to value possessions too much. my most expensive possession is probably my van

23. What is your longest friendship?

my bestie w whom ive been rocking since middle school 💖

24. When did you first feel like an adult?

i still don't 

25. Do you/ Have you played any sports?

as a very young child i played soccer at my grandma's church. idk if that counts. 

26. How are you feeling right now?

tired. my joints hurt. 

27. Are you an early bird or a night owl?

left to my own devices i end up on a nocturnal schedule naturally. my current work schedule has forced me to become an early bird however. 

28. Do you believe in love at first sight?

not really 

29. Favorite song lyrics right now?

"would you remember Joan of Arc was her flesh yet unlit by flame?" 

30.What does self care look like for you?

scary hot shower + bunch of weed + decadent snacks + some enjoyable thing to watch 

31. Describe yourself with 3 singers.

im not sure i understand this question 

32. What makes you nervous?

literally everything. i am constantly and always thinking abt how literally any thing could be going disastrously wrong

33. What’s a pet peeve you have? 

ppl standing still in walkways, esp if it's crowded and they're actively blocking more ppl from being able to flow through

34. What will always make you cry?

the song Fade In / Fade Out by Nothing More 

35.What kind of first impression do you think you make on people?

socially stunted/awkward in a way that's just a tad unlikable 

Questions 1 - 35

that is SO cheating. you'll have to give me like a full workday to answer 35 questions

[atiny-piratequeen]

since you dont know many german tales, how about the original story of rapunzel?

~~

There were once a man and a woman who had long in vain wished for a child. At length the woman hoped that God was about to grant her desire. These people had a little window at the back of their house from which a splendid garden could be seen, which was full of the most beautiful flowers and herbs. It was, however, surrounded by a high wall, and no one dared to go into it because it belonged to an enchantress, who had great power and was dreaded by all the world.

One day the woman was standing by this window and looking down into the garden, when she saw a bed which was planted with the most beautiful rampion - Rapunzel, and it looked so fresh and green that she longed for it, and had the greatest desire to eat some. This desire increased every day, and as she knew that she could not get any of it, she quite pined away, and began to look pale and miserable.

Then her husband was alarmed, and asked, "What ails you, dear wife?"

"Ah," she replied, "if I can't eat some of the rampion, which is in the garden behind our house, I shall die."

The man, who loved her, thought, sooner than let your wife die, bring her some of the rampion yourself, let it cost what it will. At twilight, he clambered down over the wall into the garden of the enchantress, hastily clutched a handful of rampion, and took it to his wife. She at once made herself a salad of it, and ate it greedily. It tasted so good to her - so very good, that the next day she longed for it three times as much as before. If he was to have any rest, her husband must once more descend into the garden. In the gloom of evening, therefore, he let himself down again. But when he had clambered down the wall he was terribly afraid, for he saw the enchantress standing before him.

"How can you dare," said she with angry look, "descend into my garden and steal my rampion like a thief? You shall suffer for it."

"Ah," answered he, "let mercy take the place of justice, I only made up my mind to do it out of necessity. My wife saw your rampion from the window, and felt such a longing for it that she would have died if she had not got some to eat."

Then the enchantress allowed her anger to be softened, and said to him, "If the case be as you say, I will allow you to take away with you as much rampion as you will, only I make one condition, you must give me the child which your wife will bring into the world. It shall be well treated, and I will care for it like a mother."

The man in his terror consented to everything, and when the woman was brought to bed, the enchantress appeared at once, gave the child the name of Rapunzel, and took it away with her.

Rapunzel grew into the most beautiful child under the sun. When she was twelve years old, the enchantress shut her into a tower, which lay in a forest, and had neither stairs nor door, but quite at the top was a little window. When the enchantress wanted to go in, she placed herself beneath it and cried,

"Rapunzel, Rapunzel, Let down your hair!"

Rapunzel had magnificent long hair, fine as spun gold, and when she heard the voice of the enchantress she unfastened her braided tresses, wound them round one of the hooks of the window above, and then the hair fell twenty ells down, and the enchantress climbed up by it.

After a year or two, it came to pass that the king's son rode through the forest and passed by the tower. Then he heard a song, which was so charming that he stood still and listened. This was Rapunzel, who in her solitude passed her time in letting her sweet voice resound. The king's son wanted to climb up to her, and looked for the door of the tower, but none was to be found. He rode home, but the singing had so deeply touched his heart, that every day he went out into the forest and listened to it. Once when he was thus standing behind a tree, he saw that an enchantress came there, and he heard how she cried,

"Rapunzel, Rapunzel, Let down your hair!"

Then Rapunzel let down the braids of her hair, and the enchantress climbed up to her. "If that is the ladder by which one mounts, I too will try my fortune," said he, and the next day when it began to grow dark, he went to the tower and cried,

"Rapunzel, Rapunzel, Let down your hair!"

Immediately the hair fell down and the king's son climbed up. At first Rapunzel was terribly frightened when a man, such as her eyes had never yet beheld, came to her. But the king's son began to talk to her quite like a friend, and told her that his heart had been so stirred that it had let him have no rest, and he had been forced to see her. Then Rapunzel lost her fear, and when he asked her if she would take him for her husband, and she saw that he was young and handsome, she thought, he will love me more than old dame gothel does. And she said yes, and laid her hand in his.

She said, "I will willingly go away with you, but I do not know how to get down. Bring with you a skein of silk every time that you come, and I will weave a ladder with it, and when that is ready I will descend, and you will take me on your horse."

They agreed that until that time he should come to her every evening, for the old woman came by day.

The enchantress remarked nothing of this, until once Rapunzel said to her, "Tell me, Dame Gothel, how it happens that you are so much heavier for me to draw up than the young king's son - he is with me in a moment."

"Ah! You wicked child," cried the enchantress. "What do I hear you say. I thought I had separated you from all the world, and yet you have deceived me."

In her anger she clutched Rapunzel's beautiful tresses, wrapped them twice round her left hand, seized a pair of scissors with the right, and snip, snap, they were cut off, and the lovely braids lay on the ground. And she was so pitiless that she took poor Rapunzel into a desert where she had to live in great grief and misery.

On the same day that she cast out Rapunzel, however, the enchantress fastened the braids of hair, which she had cut off, to the hook of the window, and when the king's son came and cried,

"Rapunzel, Rapunzel, Let down your hair!"

she let the hair down. The king's son ascended, but instead of finding his dearest Rapunzel, he found the enchantress, who gazed at him with wicked and venomous looks.

"Aha," she cried mockingly, "you would fetch your dearest, but the beautiful bird sits no longer singing in the nest. The cat has got it, and will scratch out your eyes as well. Rapunzel is lost to you. You will never see her again."

The king's son was beside himself with pain, and in his despair he leapt down from the tower. He escaped with his life, but the thorns into which he fell pierced his eyes. Then he wandered quite blind about the forest, ate nothing but roots and berries, and did naught but lament and weep over the loss of his dearest wife.

Thus he roamed about in misery for some years, and at length came to the desert where Rapunzel, with the twins to which she had given birth, a boy and a girl, lived in wretchedness. He heard a voice, and it seemed so familiar to him that he went towards it, and when he approached, Rapunzel knew him and fell on his neck and wept. Two of her tears wetted his eyes and they grew clear again, and he could see with them as before. He led her to his kingdom where he was joyfully received, and they lived for a long time afterwards, happy and contented.

~~

so i have been taught a version that is a little easier on children, where rapunzel was basically safed by her prince and they lived happily ever after. and no birthing twins either. BUT this version has been the one read to children for decades since it was written.

i liked the disney movie, but as usual it glossed over the original everywhere. thats fine tho, it was fiction in the first place and an accurate verion might be more of a thriller, or horror movie... or just a very sad one. it just saddens me sometimes when so much detail is lost. just like malificent wasnt called by her original german name (malefiz) in the german dub of her movie. that irked me greatly.

(also if this is starting to get annoying, tell me!! i just really enjoy revisiting fairytales and telling people about them uwu)

Its not annoying at all. Again, i always appreciate this so much. Plus you're sharing part of your culture, for folklore and fairytales, even those with more wider known adaptations, are still important to people's culture. So even if you tell me a Grimm or something that i do know, i still appreciate it so much.

I know a lot of fairytales have gentler adaptations for the kiddos but ive never seen the traditional one for rapunzel so thank you sm!

[doenvs3000w22]

Connection to nature

My relationship with nature started at a very young age, ever since I was a child I've always had a strong pull and curiosity about the natural world, one that would only evolve to be more complex as time passed. Whether it was reading books about animals, or going out to lakes, forests, and other habitats with a notebook and writing my observations, I’ve always felt inclined to fulfill my curiosity and begin searching for an understanding of how the world works. One key memory I often associate my relationship with nature is when I and my friend used to write letters to each other, describing different birds we've encountered during the week, and how we used to plan to travel to the Amazon to encounter a completely new community of birds, writing and being stuck by their elegance. Because of him, my childhood was filled with imagination and an undying passion for exploration of the world’s animals, and so I’d say he offered me a sense of place, a place in which I can express my thoughts and love for nature freely, and a place where I revisit in my head to feel like a little kid once again.

Photographing Great Egrets in florida

In addition to my own passion for nature, I was able to travel with my family quite often growing up, something I am forever grateful for. Traveling around Canada, the United States, and South America has allowed me to further fulfill and explore new parts of h world, encountering new species I came to find fascinating. Because of these experiences growing up, I am now more than ever finding myself with a strong desire to travel even more in search of the beauty and wisdom nature has to offer. Over my past experiences and curiosity for nature Ive been able to find a sense of peace and serenity, but also an unsettling feeling. In many ways, the world around us views nature in one way, often disregarding the aspects of it that are not as appealing, the danger, the disaster, and the harm it causes. It is, for this reason, I feel perhaps more inclined towards it, nature contains a certain unpredictability and unknowingness to it, so even after constantly searching for answers to gain an understanding of what nature is and how it works, I may never find what it is I seek.

Volcanic area in Costa Rica

[f0rever15elf]

I Just Need Five Minutes: Part 1

Part 1 of the Maxwell Lord “I Just Need Five Minutes” Series: Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4, Part 5 (Coming soon) Pairing: Maxwell Lord x f!reader Wordcount: 2,325 Rating: G  Warnings: Death mentions Part 2 (Coming soon...)

Summary: Lord Corp has become the top business contender on the global stage, lead by none other than Maxwell Lord IV. His rise to glory has taken him from the lives of those he once loved, and you can only watch as he slips further and further out of reach. You had to stop it, before it was too late. You had to get inside. 

A/N: This story is going to call a little bit on the comic book backstory of Maxwell Lord IV, most of which can be found in his wiki article, if you’re interested. I’m excited to write for Maxwell, his character has so much potential. And hopefully this will tide me over since the movie release has been delayed again.

Masterlist  |  Ao3

He was a genius. Shrewd, cunning, and charismatic. His way with words had everyone coiled tightly around his finger; he could sell holy water to the Pope if he wanted to. And with that silver tongue, that guise he wore to stroke the egos of those who ate from his palm and were none the wiser, he continued to climb higher and higher. More and more power fell into his grasp.

But a glass can only hold so much, and as his brimmed and spilled over with power and influence, so did he lose his humanity.

“Maxwell...what have you done?”

~~~~

The sun shines brilliantly in the summer sky over the wide yard in front of the Lord estate. In the lush green grass, two children play, no more than five or six years old. A boy and a girl, giggling and laughing over jokes and stories told in funny voices. It is the picture of innocence, purity. The little girl picks up a flower from the small pile they had collected, tucking it behind her ear before finding a matching one, tucking it behind the boy’s.

“We match now!” she beams in a way only a child can. “It means that you and I will be together forever!” The boy blushes at her words, soft blonde hair blowing gently in the summer breeze. His face is gentle and kind, shy even as he watches her with bright brown eyes that shine in the light. Tentatively, he sticks out his hand to her, pinky finger extended.

“You gotta promise! It doesn’t work if you don’t promise!” His serious voice makes the girl giggle before she makes a serious face, wrapping her pinky around his tightly.

“I promise! Forever and ever.” The boy smiles and nods as she says so, repeating her words back to her before they both erupt into giggles. From the balcony, the mothers of the two children look on fondly over their cups of tea. The sound of the children laughing danced on the warm breeze, pleasant in their ears. If only things could stay like this forever.

~~~~

Your pinky twitches as you stand before the gilded doors of the Lord Building, looking up at its windows, blinding in the sunlight. You would get in. You had to. Things had been put into motion that you need to stop, but the only way to do so is from the inside. With a shake of your head and a sigh, your turn on your heel, heading down the street towards home. It seems that nearly every screen you pass on your way has Maxwell’s face on it, selling empty promises and loaded bargains. And every time you see his eyes, they look a little less like the boy you use to know.

~~~~

“Max can’t meet you today, dear,” your mother says, petting your hair. To an adult familiar with grief and loss, the tightness in her voice would betray the tumultuous emotions she feels. To you, she just sounds uncomfortable, and you tilt your head in confusion. Fourteen years doesn’t provide much time to become familiar with the concept of loss, so you shrug, saddened you wouldn’t get to see your friend today.

Gone were the days of sitting in the grass to play, tucking flowers into each other’s hair. Maxwell was always busy helping his father to run the family business, and you would go months without so much as a word from him before he would show up at your door with a lily, smiling that dimpled smile at you. Promises always poured from his lips that it wouldn’t be so long next time before he came to see you.

But today… Today would change everything. Today, Maxwell’s father died.

~~~~

The door to your apartment slams shut behind you with a thud, shutting out the hustle and bustle of Metropolis. It’s small, but cozy, filled with your plants to bring a little life to the drab living room and kitchen. Taking a seat in the living room, you pull out your computer from your bag as you flip on the TV. It’s Maxwell’s face again, smiling at you with the look of a used car salesman who swears he wants only the best for his favorite customer. You know it’s not a real smile. Maxwell has a dimple when he smiles, and this charade didn’t. You shake your head as his promises of whatever you want in this perfect future fill the room, your eyes refocusing on your laptop, refreshing your emails. One meeting...that was all you needed.

~~~~

You let out a frustrated sigh as the door slams closed, your mother letting out a cry of surprise at the sound before coming to find you, resting a concerned hand on your shoulder as you throw yourself onto the couch.

“He still won’t see you?” Her gentle words just cause your heart to ache further and you nod.

“His mom greeted me, invited me in and made me tea. We chatted, but as soon as I asked about Maxwell, she stood up and ushered me from the house, asking me to not come by anymore since I couldn’t seem to stop asking for him.” You turn to look at your mother, tears in your eyes. “Why won’t he see me, Mom? Did I do something wrong?” Your mother’s heart shatters at the broken light in your eyes. She knew how much Maxwell meant to you, and that having him refuse to see you was tearing you apart.

“My sweet, you’ve done nothing wrong. Maxwell has a lot of responsibility to take on now that he’s running his father’s company. He’s very busy and doesn’t have as much time to see friends as he use to.” She brushes your hair behind your ear with delicate fingers. “I’m sure he still cares about you.”

“I miss him, Mom. I miss my best friend. It’s been three years since I’ve seen him...” Seventeen years of life and you still struggle with keeping your emotions in check, especially when it comes to Maxwell.

“I know sweetheart...When the time is right, you will see him again…”

~~~~

The alert from your inbox pulls you from your reverie, your eyes refocusing on the screen. As they do, your heart stutters in your chest

‘To Whom It May Concern,

We graciously thank you for your interest in Lord Corp. Mr. Lord has personally reviewed your product and would like to arrange to meet you on Wednesday at 3 p.m. You will have thirty minutes to make your sales pitch and answer any questions he may have. The front desk will direct you when you arrive. Please bring a valid photo ID and copies of your pitch for convince. Do not be late, Mr. Lord’s time is incredibly valued.

Cordially,

Sam Preston

Personal Assistant to the CEO’

You had gotten it. That moment you needed on the inside...you had finally gotten it. A relieved smile graces your lips as you begin to amass your files. You had one shot at this, it had to be perfect.

~~~~

You stand alone in the cemetery as you watch the caretakers laying new sod over the fresh grave. Your heart feels hollow, and only the black lace veil conceals the tears streaming down your cheeks from the world around you. Today was beautiful; cool and still with the birds singing in the trees as the sun warmed the earth. It was too beautiful for a day filled with such grief.

As the caretakers pack up their tools, one stops to rest a hand on his shoulder, passing along his condolences before continuing on his way. You nod gratefully before kneeling beside the headstone. It is modest, small and simple with a delicate engraving of a singular rose by your mother’s name. Black-gloved fingers trace along each petal and letter, your shoulders shaking with silent cries. You were now well and truly alone.

You shouldn’t have had to be alone. He should have been there with you, you had made a promise to one another. You were there when his father passed, and his mother. He didn’t even have the time to attend his own mother’s funeral, but you did. You mourned for him as they lowered a woman close enough to be your second mother into the ground beside her husband. So why were you alone now?

Where are you Maxwell?

~~~~

Your hands work to smooth the front of your dress down before you enter the lobby of Lord Corp. Slate gray with a simple black belt that held nicely to your figure but didn’t reveal too much. Professional and classy, with a dash of sexy. Nothing beyond anything any self-respecting company owner would don. Head held high and the bag you specifically reserved for important business trips and meetings over your shoulder, you make your way inside, up to the front desk.

“Welcome to Lord Corp, where the future is yours, do you have an appointment?” The intern who greets you sounds like every last bit of his soul has been sapped from him, and you pity him. Giving him a sad smile, you nod, pulling out your ID.

“I do, at 3 pm with Mr. Lord.” You give him your name as he takes the card, looking you up in the system before nodding, handing you back your ID and a visitors badge which you quickly put around your neck.

“Lily Solutions, you’re still on schedule. I’ll have you head down the hall. Take your first left, you’ll find the elevators. Take it all the way to the top and have a seat on the bench outside the double doors at the end of the hall. Sam will come and get you when Mr. Lord is ready for you.” You smile sweetly at the young man, thanking him before following your instructions. Your ears pop on the way up and you grimace, pulling out the folder with your ‘sales pitch’ inside, flipping through to make sure everything is in order. As the doors slide open and you make your way down the hall, you sigh. This floor was so much more opulent than the ground floor and you feel so out of place. Floor to ceiling paintings like the walls, depicting grandiose battles. Priceless vases and sculptures sit along marble pedestals. It’s like walking through a museum rather than an office, and your jaw clenches as you think about how he had come to acquire some of these items. When you reach the bench, you take your seat and cross your ankles to wait, trying to calm your racing heart.

“Lily Solutions?” The voice that calls out for you immediately grates on your nerves, high pitched and nasally. Looking to your right, so you a man in a pressed navy blue suit make his way towards you, and you stand to meet him, taking his extended hand. “I am Sam Preston, Mr. Lord’s personal assistant. Did you bring your requested documents?” The way he looked down his nose at you makes your blood boil, but you paste on the sweetest smile you can, nodding as you hand over the folder.

“You’ll find copies of all requested articles inside, neatly labeled for yours and Mr. Lord’s personal convenience.” Sam makes a disinterested sound in the back of his throat, snapping the folder shut before checking his watch.

“Very good. This way.” He strides past you and as soon as he is in front of you, you drop the sweet smile. Maxwell, why hire someone like him? You shake your head as Sam opens the door at the end of the hall, getting your salesman smile in place. “Mr. Lord, your 3 o’clock is here from Lily Solutions.” Sam ushers you inside and you are taken aback once again at how over the top the design of the office is. Floor to ceiling windows line the whole back wall with arguably the best view in Metropolis and the curtains that hang every so often are of a rich red velvet with gold filigree.  The marble tiles cause the click of your heels to echo as you make your way to the center of the room beside Sam, your eyes locked on the man sitting at the large mahogany desk.

It’s been seventeen years since you last saw Maxwell, and your heart ached for the man who appraises you with shrewd and cunning eyes. With a wave of his hand, Sam nods, leaving the folder on the desk to make his way out of the room. The large oaken door closing echos ominously through the room as Maxwell stands, coming around his desk to face you, hands in his pockets. If he recognized you at all, he didn’t show it.

“Thank you for taking the time to meet with me, Mr. Lord. I realize your time is very valuable, so I won’t keep you long.” Maxwell chuckles humorlessly at your greetings, leaning back against his desk.

“You say that, but you bring me this fake, garbage company in an attempt for a sales pitch?” His voice is rough and hard as flint, no trace of that gentle sound he once had. “What game are you playing?”

“No game, sir.”

“I don’t believe you.” He pushes off of his desk, walking back around it. “Everyone has a game they play, and if you’re not going to tell me yours, I’ll have you escorted out.” When he picks up the phone, your heart leaps into your throat and you dart forward pressing down on the receiver, cutting it off. He glares at you in disbelief. The audacity, he thinks, is astounding and he would make sure you suffer for it.

“Maxwell, please.” His eyes flash at the use of his first name, something in the way it sounds in your voice bringing him to pause. “I just need five minutes.”

~~~~~

Taglist is open!  Requests are open!

[uncertaininnit]

who wants to read an essay about my relationship with simping/an appreciation(/simping lol) post about Will+Eret and also seperately tommyinnit that was written at 4:22 am and then added to the queue because i love the queue system also fun fact i pronounced the word ‘queue’ as ‘cc-week’ for like an entire year and idk why anyways

lets just jump into it

lol

so. if somebody was to ask me who my favorite mcyt is, i would think about it for a moment and eventually answer with either Wilbur or Eret. and i think that is purely out of simping instinct or whatever the fuck. 

to start, Wilbur; the prettiest man, period. i do not take constructive criticism. he is literally gorgeous and i get so mad at him for putting himself down all the time because he doesnt deserve the shit, especially not from himself. he is 24 years old and has the lowest self-esteem out of anybody i can think of. i want to yell in his face all the time. i want to tell him simps are the same species as him, and they have REASONS to simp. if you keep seeing appreciation posts about yourself (which im sure he does) that means people APPRECIATE YOU and WANT YOU to feel APPRECIATED. 

anyway, back to simping. let’s start from the top. his goddamn hair. it is, it is, and i just took a deep breath, so pretty. maybe it isnt the hair itself, probably, but the way it is done. wavy dark brown hair all floofy in the front. and he is constantly messing with it, which is THE cutest thing. when he is excited, he moves a lot, and his hair moves with him and gets messed up and ahhhcvkvyr moving on.

his face? lets start with his eyes. they are so pretty. i think my opinion on eyes is probably weird, and allow me to explain why. i never ever notice somebodies eye color when talking to them. i just dont even look. so when i am actively paying attention to somebody’s eyes, they are that much more important to me. but idk, i kinda feel like his eyes are one of the biggest factors of his face? like, he looks really pretty whether he is smiling or not, because his face doesn’t ride on his smile.

sidetrack paragraph about george: i think george is that way. he is adorable, but he is only really adorable when he is smiling. if i look up ‘georgenotfound cute’ it will be entirely him smiling, and never any other facial expression because he genuinely looks like the fucking weirdest thing sometimes when making a serious face. back to will.

i dont pay attention to noses because who even cares dude but i’m sure his nose does a good job of supporting his looks as well so good job nose

his SMILE. he doesn’t need to smile, but dude, when he does, it’s like i always used to say (and still would say) in regards to eijiro kirishima. it’s like... sunbeams, like rays of light are in his mouth and escaping when he smiles.i wonder how he keeps a star in there. because his smile literally lights up my heart. and when he tilts his head(basically all the time luckily)? so goddamn pretty. pretty man. pretty. 

that brings us to his neck, which is- no, kidding, but i do want to talk about his vocal chords! firstly his speaking voice, which i guess as an american it hits different for me because of the accent. but- i dont think i can put it into words. but the way he puts thoughts into words-(lol) idk, his voice is just really sweet. and his SINGING VOICE, here we go.

so he sings, duh. and i- holy fuck. he just sounds good, you know? he is a good singer. i want to put my emotions simply this time. he sings well, and he sounds good. a pretty voice for a pretty man. i cant even try to elaborate.

basically the only other thing of my concern is his fucking yellow sweater? or jumper or whatever the fuck? and his beanie? on his body? damn. i am genuinely attached to that sweater. it just looks good, ok? it does. 

oh yeah, and he’s hella fucking tall. 6′5? are you kidding? you couldn’t have at least been short so we could make fun of you?

oh yeah and his laugh-

it is now 4:53 am and a bitch is tired but i have an entire fucking train of thoughts and they must be somewhere before they slip away

the next part- Eret. i adore Eret. so incredibly much. and let me start this by saying i’m going to consistantly call him a he, because he doesn’t care and so that makes it easier for me. ok? ok.

he is the opposite of Wilbur in this one regard, confidence. and self-esteem. eret loves himself. that attitude spreads. look, not only is he like the #1 bicon in the world as far as i’m concerned, but he also actively fucks gender roles any day. strawberry dress pog? strawberry dress pog.

but seriously, he rocked the strawberry dress. and the suit, though i missed that stream. he rocks his crown, his sunglasses, just anything he puts on. and don’t get me started on the BOOTS

(im started on the boots) so firstly the heel boots, the first ones he got. when i first saw clips, my only thought was something like ‘woah.’ or maybe ‘damn.’ at that point i didn’t know much about him, just that he looked STELLAR in those boots (and the betrayal and shit yknow) and the PLATFORMS DUDE

the platforms are the same but moar tall, which is incredible. oh and now back to strawberry dress- have you seen him twirl? the twirl? hello? have you seen it? you must. 

also i havent even talked about HIM yet. hove you seen that picture of him with a bird on his shoulder? he is facing the bird, i think looking at it, with a wide smile across his face. and it is so pretty. he has the prettiest smile. 

also today i was looking for flour at the store place and a clip of him was playing in my mind- he was doing like an announcer voice, like in every superhero movie trailer- and he was just coming up with something to say, and what he ened up saying was ‘in a world... where.... cookies.... are made of pringles’ and OMFG its making me laugh even now. like of absolutely anything, that was the example he made. just thinking about it is making me smile. 

speaking of, have you heard his voice? his normal voice is really really deep anyways, but he has crazy range- he can effortlessly(i originally wrote effortly and when i noticed i laughed because i am so fucking tired bfv9wuocl) go from like an elmo impression (and a good one) to a just REALLY low voice, lower than his normal low voice. 

AND HIS SINGING VOICE! he doesn’t like actually make music like wilbur but on that one stream where he did kareoke (how the fuck is it spelled) with fundy and his voice is SO LIKE its deep and its just pretty and i never want to hear normal sweater weather ever again, just him singing it.

i think this is where i’m done with eret- it is 5:18 now, and a BITCH IS TIRED but i need to finish this while i’m still feeling this wayy or i’ll never finish it, i know this from experience.

and now it’s tommy time

the og reason i decided to make this an actual post . but i had to explain the simping thing before i got into my thoughts about tommy. 

but let me start this with just saying yes, i love him. he is a big man and i want him to be happy. which is the topic for today’s discussion, AHEM. 

so tommyinnit, right? he is 16, which is why i do NOT simp.i dont care that im also a minor, i wouldn’t do anything to make him feel uncomfortable, ever. in any world. never. because look- i dont know how to put it, but tommy is SIXTEEN. still young and impressionable and all that junk. and he is a fairly fucking famous twitch streamer. he does that almost daily.

what i’m saying is i dont want him to get hurt. him, and tubbo too. they are a part of the world, part of the public, all the time. don’t you think that is stressful? do you guys remember his haircut stream? on the day of his haircut? and chat was making fun of him for it, and wilbur was making fun of him for it. that is how i express affection, with my real friends as well. playful bullying. but at some point while Will was teasing him, he says something along the lines of ‘yeah, the big man hasn’t been having too great a day’ or something like that, and dude, my heart dropped.

a. he had mentioned earlier that he didn’t want to stream the day of his haircut because hair is always weird that first day, but since he hadn’t streamed in a good bit he felt obliged to. i dont really.. idk, i dont really like that. i dont want him to have to put himself in uncomfortable situations because he feels like he needs to for us. i don’t think that is healthy.

and b. chat and wilbur were bullying him. good-naturedly, but still, when he mentioned he had been having a bad day, the chat turned around and instantly started yelling shit like ‘AHHHH SORRY BIG MAN YOUR HAIR IS FINE’ and when Wilbur kept teasing him (you fucking beautiful bully man fuck off) yelling stuff like ‘WILBUR QUIT WE ARE H U R T I N G HIM’ and ‘WILL STFU HES HAVING A BAD DAY’ so im glad we all want him to feel ok

but still, it cannot be healthy. when i first got into MCYT, i though tommy was fucking loud and annoying. and he is! he is. but that is a big part of why i like him so much. and everyone jokes about him being a child, because he is, but i choose to not say stuff like that in chat just because i want him to be happy. those jokes are fun, but i want him to be happy. and he is happier when not being called a child.

im not attacking you, do whatever the fuck you want. i dont know why i feel the need to protect him or whatever, if he read this he would probably think i was hella creepy. i just- listen, i just want him to be happy. i just want him to smile and laugh. i sound SO GODDAMN CREEPY but- as ive said- i just want him to be happy. 

is this literally just what having a comfort streamer is? am i not crazy? does everyone experience this? and can we talk about tommy’s playlist it’s literally so sweet and bubbly compared to his personality and i love that. and the song he always plays at the start of stream and always like buzzes along to? that moment in time is my very favorite.

it is 5:44-

[butterflies-dragons]

Sansa Stark and The Exile Prince

You're not my homeland anymore So what am I defending now? You were my town, now I'm in exile, seeing you out (...) I'm not your problem anymore So who am I offending now? You were my crown, now I'm in exile, seeing you out

—Exile ~ Taylor Swift feat. Bon Iver (*)

***

At the end of Game of Thrones, the TV Show, Jon Snow is a prince, but he is exiled from his homeland. Sansa fought for Jon's release after Daenerys’ murder, but he was sent to the Night's Watch. 

Then at their farewell, Sansa regrets she was unable to gain Jon’s release, but he comforts her by saying the North will be in good hands under her guidance. 

That’s why the new Taylor Swift’s Folklore song: Exile, featuring Bon Iver, is making all our wounded jonsa hearts bleed again... 

[Let’s cry together while watching this beautiful Exile Jonsa fanvideo...]

Last year, Sansa’s fight for Jon to be released reminded me very much of her pleadings for Ned’s freedom:

The king! Sansa blinked back her tears. Joffrey was the king now, she thought. Her gallant prince would never hurt her father, no matter what he might have done. If she went to him and pleaded for mercy, she was certain he’d listen. He had to listen, he loved her, even the queen said so. Joff would need to punish Father, the lords would expect it, but perhaps he could send him back to Winterfell, or exile him to one of the Free Cities across the narrow sea. It would only have to be for a few years. By then she and Joffrey would be married. Once she was queen, she could persuade Joff to bring Father back and grant him a pardon.

—A Game of Thrones - Sansa IV

GRRM has said that the major players’ endings will be similar in the Books, and yes, he has also called Sansa a major player, so Sansa Stark being Queen of an independent North opens the possibility that she could grant Jon a pardon, so he could go back to Winterfell.

Asoiaf Books are full of exiled characters, especially Targaryen ones, like Maegor, Daemon, Viserys, Daenerys, all of them obsessed to claim the Iron Throne for themselves, and that’s the big difference with Jon Snow and the reason to be hopeful for some kind of pardon, reconciliation and returning home to, at last, enjoy some peaceful time at home, a true Dream of Spring.   

But Sansa Stark has already crossed paths with an Exile Prince. Let’s see: 

Back in AGOT Sansa introduced us to a very particular courtier of the Red Keep: Jalabhar Xho.  

Jalabhar Xho is the exiled Prince of the Red Flower Vale, likely exiled for losing a highly ritualized war as per the tradition of the Summer Isles. Following his exile, Jalabhar came to King's Landing in the Seven Kingdoms to request gold and swords from King Robert I Baratheon to help him regain the Red Flower Vale. Robert always entertained the notion of conquering the Summer Isles, but continuously told Jalabhar and put it off until the next year. Although Robert always put off Jalabhar's request for help, he never firmly declined him, telling him "Next year" instead of "No".

Jalabar Xho has a strong bird imagery that connects him with Sansa, since she is mockingly called a bird of the Summer Isles: 

Flowers of a thousand different sorts bloom in profusion on the Summer Isles, filling the air with their perfume. The trees are heavy with exotic fruits, and a myriad of brightly colored birds flitter through the skies. From their plumage the Summer Islanders make their fabulous feathered cloaks. 

—The World of Ice & Fire

Sandor Clegane stopped suddenly in the middle of a dark and empty field. She had no choice but to stop beside him. "Some septa trained you well. You're like one of those birds from the Summer Isles, aren't you? A pretty little talking bird, repeating all the pretty little words they taught you to recite."

—A Game of Thrones - Sansa II

The denizens of Joffrey's court had striven to outdo each other today. Jalabhar Xho was all in feathers, a plumage so fantastic and extravagant that he seemed like to take flight. 

—A Clash of Kings - Sansa VIII

Sansa is the POV where this Prince of the Summer Isles is most mentioned. Out of the 22 mentions of Jalabar Xho in the Books, 8 of those mentions are in Sansa’s chapters, followed by the 7 mentions of the exile prince in Cercei’s chapters. But what is really curious and very interesting is the fact that most of those mentions are in a romantic context linked with love and weddings:  

Jeyne Poole confessed herself frightened by the look of Jalabhar Xho, an exile prince from the Summer Isles who wore a cape of green and scarlet feathers over skin as dark as night, but when she saw young Lord Beric Dondarrion, with his hair like red gold and his black shield slashed by lightning, she pronounced herself willing to marry him on the instant.

—A Game of Thrones - Sansa II

He was one of the few spectators at Joffrey’s Name Day Tourney:  

Most of the spectators were guardsmen in the gold cloaks of the City Watch or the crimson of House Lannister; of lords and ladies there were but a paltry few, the handful that remained at court. Grey-faced Lord Gyles Rosby was coughing into a square of pink silk. Lady Tanda was bracketed by her daughters, placid dull Lollys and acid-tongued Falyse. Ebon-skinned Jalabhar Xho was an exile who had no other refuge, Lady Ermesande a babe seated on her wet nurse's lap. The talk was she would soon be wed to one of the queen's cousins, so the Lannisters might claim her lands.

—A Clash of Kings - Sansa I

Jalabar Xho was present at Sansa’s wedding with Tyrion Lanniters, he said something to her in the Summer Tongue while they danced together:

Merry Crane took the floor with the exile prince Jalabhar Xho, gorgeous in his feathered finery. 

(...)

The music spun them apart before Sansa could think of a reply. It was Mace Tyrell opposite her, red-faced and sweaty, and then Lord Merryweather, and then Prince Tommen. "I want to be married too," said the plump little princeling, who was all of nine. "I'm taller than my uncle!"

"I know you are," said Sansa, before the partners changed again. Ser Kevan told her she was beautiful, Jalabhar Xho said something she did not understand in the Summer Tongue, and Lord Redwyne wished her many fat children and long years of joy. 

—A Storm of Swords - Sansa III 

[Here you can find a fanart of Sansa and Jalabar Xho dancing together]

Jalabar Xho and Sansa met again during The Purple Wedding and they talked about the Wedding Customs of the Summer Isles:

Tyrion led Sansa around the yard, to perform the necessary courtesies.

She is good at this, he thought, as he watched her tell Lord Gyles that his cough was sounding better, compliment Elinor Tyrell on her gown, and question Jalabhar Xho about wedding customs in the Summer Isles. His cousin Ser Lancel had been brought down by Ser Kevan, the first time he'd left his sickbed since the battle. He looks ghastly. Lancel's hair had turned white and brittle, and he was thin as a stick. Without his father beside him holding him up, he would surely have collapsed. Yet when Sansa praised his valor and said how good it was to see him getting strong again, both Lancel and Ser Kevan beamed. She would have made Joffrey a good queen and a better wife if he'd had the sense to love her. He wondered if his nephew was capable of loving anyone.

—A Storm of Swords - Tyrion VIII

The last we know about this particular character is that he is falsely accused by the Blue Bard to be one of Queen Margaery’s lovers and Cersei would be willing to send him to the Night’s Watch if he confesses:  

Behind Margaery came a long tail of courtiers, guards, and servants, many of them laden with baskets of fresh flowers. Each of her cousins had an admirer in thrall; the gangly squire Alyn Ambrose rode with Elinor, to whom he was betrothed, Ser Tallad with shy Alla, one-armed Mark Mullendore with Megga, plump and laughing. The Redwyne twins were escorting two of Margaery's other ladies, Meredyth Crane and Janna Fossoway. The women all wore flowers in their hair. Jalabhar Xho had attached himself to the party too, as had Ser Lambert Turnberry with his eye patch, and the handsome singer known as the Blue Bard.

—A Feast for Crows - Cersei VI

"I prefer this song to the other." Leave the great lords out of it, that was for the best. The others, though . . . Ser Tallad had been a hedge knight, Jalabhar Xho was an exile and a beggar, Clifton was the only one of the little queen's guardsman. And Osney is the plum that makes the pudding. "I know you feel better for having told the truth. You will want to remember that when Margaery comes to trial. If you were to start lying again . . .

(...)

Alone, the Blue Bard's confession would never suffice. Singers lied for their living, after all. Alla Tyrell would be of great help, if Taena could deliver her. "Ser Osney shall confess as well. The others must be made to understand that only through confession can they earn the king's forgiveness, and the Wall." Jalabhar Xho would find the truth attractive. About the rest she was less certain, but Qyburn was persuasive . . .

—A Feast for Crows - Cersei IX

Does the Exile Prince Jalabhar Xho reminds you of someone? Maybe of another Prince, that will probably be exiled from his homeland after some succession dispute, that is surrounded by bird imagery because he wears a black cloak, that is called ‘crow’ and knows an actual crow that repeats everything it hears, that is linked with Sansa Stark, that once imagined himself dancing with a creature that talked to him in a foreign tongue, and that once organized a foreign custom wedding of a Lady with whom he once danced? Do I need to say it? 

Damn it, George! What are you doing?

(*) This post was written while listening Exile over and over and over again...     

[villainess-noble-girl]

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Title: Second-Year Valentine's Day

Author: meiberry

Link: https://m.fanfiction.net/s/12852677/1/Second-Year-Valentine-s-Day

Fandom: Kenkyo Kenjitsu

Pairing: EnjouXReika

Photo: https://www.pixiv.net/en/artworks/67148847

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

"No. I'm not going to take it. It's going to make me sleepy. Plus it tastes like soap."

The muffled voice of Yukino came from beneath the covers. The IV drip tube poked out from the ball of sheets in the hospital bed.

Shuusuke sighed at his little brother's stubborn actions. Good thing he came prepared for this. "Yukino. Kisshouin-san wrote you a letter."

The ball of sheets shifted, and Yukino's head popped out from beneath the covers, his doe peering up at Enjou in surprise. "...Reika-oneesama?"

Shuusuke held up a small pink envelope with "Yukino-kun" written in neat handwriting in the center. Yukino reached for it when Shuusuke swept it back out of reach with a gentle smile.

"..." Sullenly, Yukino obediently drank the medicine. Watching as he finished it, Shuusuke patted his head and handed him a glass of water with a piece of candy to take care of the medicine's bitter aftertaste. Yukino popped the candy in his mouth with one hand and eagerly held out the other, looking up at Shuusuke expectantly. Shuusuke handed him the letter and watched as his little brother opened it earnestly.

In the beginning, Shuusuke was pretty surprised to see him get along so well with an older girl. Usually, Yukino was not so nice. He was a really smart kid for his young age, and many older girls had been trapped by his soft, harmless facade only to be humiliated and insulted beyond repair. But recently, Shuusuke found that with Kisshouin, Yukino seemed to genuinely act like his appearance.

Shuusuke could see why. Kisshouin clearly didn't have any ulterior motives when speaking to Yukino. Older girls usually saw Yukino as a means to an end. If they weren't patronizing then they were obsequious, obviously trying to use the younger brother to get to the older one. But when it came to Kisshouin… if anything, it was as if her treatment of the two brothers was reversed. In the ten years of knowing her, the very first time that Kisshouin started a one-on-one conversation with Shuusuke that lasted longer than one minute happened to be because Yukino. It was a dreadfully humbling experience. Yukino has sure put up with a lot these past few years.

In any case, no matter how devilish he was to other people, in the end, Yukino really was still a little boy, and Shuusuke was simply grateful that he was able to be just a normal, cute kid with someone, even if it was a girl who clearly didn't put Shuusuke in her eyes.

He watched peacefully as his little brother's eyes happily flew across the letter.

"Kisshouin-san really cares about Yukino."

Yukino shot a glance over at him, "What? Is oniisama jealous?" And then he continued reading his letter.

"And don't think that I don't realize you told her to write this to make me obediently stay in the hospital."

Shuusuke smiled wryly. When he could tell Yukino was finished reading, he continued, "Well, Yukino seems to really like Kisshouin-san. I thought maybe you would listen if she asked you personally."

Yukino smiled, happy from finishing Kisshouin's letter. "Yeah, I do like her. Reika-oneesama is really nice and she's not just pretending. Do you want to read it, oniisama? I'll let you read it, since you asked her to write this for me. I'm going to the bathroom."

Yukino handed the letter to Shuusuke as he climbed out of bed and grabbed at his drip stand to roll it into the bathroom in the room.

Shuusuke blinked at the letter in his hands. Although he didn't ask to read it, he was honestly pretty curious. What did she say to Yukino to cheer him up, anyways?

The letter was not very long, and it fit neatly on the cute stationary decorated with little birds and vines.

Yukino-kun,

Enjou-sama told me that you are admitted to the hospital. I am worried for your health. Your family must be even more worried than me. I hope you take care of your body because many people care about you very much, and we want for you to quickly become well again. With that said, I hope you listen to the doctor so that you can leave the hospital soon. I know that sometimes it is really hard to do something you don't like. But experts have their reasons for their advice.

Recently I have been learning to make desserts from a friend. To be honest, my dessert-making skill is much farther behind my cooking. I think I know what to do when I try to be creative and individual with my own ideas, but actually, my friend tells me that the greatest mistake in baking is not following from the recipe. This is completely different from cooking, where not following the recipe is not that big of a deal. When I listened to my friend, I made a dessert more delicious than anything I'd ever made in my life! I realized at that moment, ah, so that is the difference between a normal person and an expert. With that said, I hope you understand the importance of listening to experts such as your doctor.

When you come back, you'll be able to see your other friends and me in the Petite Pivoine salon again.

Wishing you a quick recovery,

Kisshouin Reika

By the time Yukino returned from the bathroom, Shuusuke had already finished reading the letter and had set it on the tray over the foot of Yukino's bed.

"So, what did you think of Kisshouin-san's letter? Are you going to listen to her when she asks to you listen to to doctor's advice?"

"I guess." Yukino sat at the foot of the bed and picked up the letter again, folding it and carefully putting it back in its envelope before he flopped back into bed, pulling the covers over himself. "The way she asks me to listen to the doctor is just less irritating than when you ask me to listen to the doctor."

Shuusuke helped put the covers over Yukino.

"I wonder why Reika-oneesama is learning to make desserts." Yukino looked at Shuusuke, his eyes widening. "Valentine's Day is coming up, isn't it? I wonder what Reika-oneesama is making…"

"Hmm. Who knows."

"I wonder if she's learning to bake something for the person she likes..."

"Hmm. Who knows."

Yukino's eyes widened like big dark marbles as he looked at Shuusuke.

"You're curious, too, aren't you oniisama? Ne, ne, what kinds of sweets has oniisama received from Reika-oneesama on Valentine's day?"

"Actually, I've never received anything from Kisshouin-san on Valentine's Day."

"Ehhhhh!"

Shuusuke thought about how in the ten years since he's known Kisshouin Reika, she has never given anyone Valentine's chocolates. Year after year, the whole school secretly held its breath in wonder at who the Goddess Kali of Suiran would afflict with her attentions. And year after year the answer was an anti-climatic… nobody.

Kisshouin Reika never gave anybody at Suiran chocolates for Valentine's day. Him and Masaya were not excluded.

Ah, wait, that's not right. Last year she gave courtesy chocolates to the student council president. In fact, Shuusuke was the one who pointed this out to Masaya... Even though she had done it in secret, for Kisshouin Reika to give chocolates to a guy at Suiran was no small matter and in the end the word leaked anyways. Because she had done it pretty secretively, there were no massive rumours, but the thing about secrets was that they always spread. Shuusuke heard about it from the more low-key sources.

Back then, he had remembered how she seemed to have had a crush on the same student council president back in middle school, but nothing had happened even after all these years. For nothing to have happened all this time, what other conclusion was it other than unrequited love? He hinted at this story of camaraderie to Masaya in hopes of inspiring him to move on with his life. Unrequited love was not the end of the world. Just look at Kisshouin-san.

Who knew that the whole thing would have worked out so beautifully at graduation. Tomoe Senju actually had a girlfriend! And he called Kisshouin Reika a sister in front of everybody. Masaya was so moved by Kisshouin's composure and courage. Shuusuke felt like he was watching Masaya watch a romance movie. Out of all the times that he's taken advantage of Kisshouin, Shuusuke felt most proud about the way that one turned out. Witnessing the way Kisshouin "handled" the student council president's "public rejection" totally inspired Masaya and brought him back from depression. He completely recovered from Yurie's rejection after that.

Yukino's marble eyes seemed to glitter in wonder as he looked up at the handsome young man sitting beside the bed.

"Wow, even though every year it seems like you get chocolates from every single girl we know, there is actually one girl who has never given you any chocolates… not even once! Hehhh..."

Yukino did not look or sound sympathetic at all with the the corner of his lips twitching upwards.

"That reminds me... when we first met and I introduced myself, Reika-oneesama made a 'geh!' face when she heard my name, like she was really saddened to hear that Oniisama was my oniisama... I thought that maybe she hated you!"

"Hmm. I sure hope Kisshouin-san doesn't hate me. But if she does hate me, then that's unfortunate."

"No, no. I don't think Reika-oneesama hates you, Oniisama! She probably doesn't even think about you at all."

"..." Shuusuke's expression remained serene as he stayed silent.

Yukino looked at his face and suddenly giggled. Shuusuke joined in with a few chuckles. For a short moment, they laughed together.

"Ahahaha…"

"Hahaha…"

"..."

"..."

Yukino turned over in bed. "Don't worry, oniisama. Maybe one day Reika-oneesama will also remember to give you chocolates, too."

"..."

"Oh yeah, oniisama, could you find me something to write with? I want to write Reika-oneesama a reply."

"...Alright. I'll go find you some paper."

The next morning, Shuusuke thanked Kisshouin for her letter to Yukino. She looked really happy that it helped. Yeah, it was really useful. She was pretty humble.

"Yukino said that it was fun to read about making sweets."

"I could only think of unimportant things to say… well..."

Hm, there it was. Shuusuke could always hear the instant whenever it sounded like Kisshouin was trying to wrap up a conversation and escape. Usually, he'd just let her go. But for some reason, he didn't feel like it this time. The words Yukino said yesterday skipped around his mind, reviving an old and annoying itch.

"So Kisshouin-san is making sweets. Could it be that on Valentine's day..."

"Umm…" He watched as Kisshouin's eyes lowered, her cheeks blushing very lightly. He could imagine her cheeks must have been warm to the touch now. "Yes..."

"Hn."

It'd be a lie to say that he never expected any chocolates from Kisshouin Reika. It wasn't to say that he wanted her chocolates or anything like that. In fact, the idea of actually eating Kisshouin Reika's handmade sweets seemed like something that belonged to the realms of extreme adventures and chemically dangerous thrill-seeking. Although, whether or not Reika's chocolates are edible, Shuusuke wouldn't want to eat them anyways, as he didn't have a sweet tooth, but...

...He still expected to get them.

It was about logic. If a girl knew Enjou Shuusuke, then she would give him chocolates on Valentine's day. (The same applied to Kaburagi Masaya.) Three of five of chocolates would be honmei. That was the rule. He knew it was a very unique and extraordinary rule. Certainly not every boy in the world had the ridiculous privilege of receiving a mountain of chocolates and sweets from all the girls he knew. But, that was his experience.

In accordance with his life experience, it was natural to expect chocolates from a girl he knew when he's always received chocolates from every girl he knew. With no exceptions.

Except this one.

[witch-of-ren]

hi!! I saw your post titled "Hades' library" and was wondering if you've read anymore books with him since then? im a huge book reader and a Hades devotee that's trying to get back onto better devotionals for him since ive been struggling, so I thought I'd share that w him :) is the night circus good? id love more recs, im more into fiction books but anything u got I can try!! tysm

Hi! 

I have not read anymore books with him, or even finished Night Circus. I’ve been struggling to really get into books recently and reading has seemed like a chore rather than something fun for me recently. BUT that doesn’t mean that I don’t have a ton of books to recommend. I got carried away, so they’re under the cut. :P

The Night Circus, for one. It’s very good! Erin Morgenstern is one of my favorite authors and that book is beautifully done. It has magic, mystery, romance...pretty much everything you could ask for. Including POC cast (Tsukiko being one of my favorites) and LGBT characters. “The circus arrives without warning. No announcements precede it. It is simply there, when yesterday it was not.”

Next up...The Starless Sea. Another Erin Morgenstern book. I daresay this was better than The Night Circus. Again, POC cast and LGBT. The main romance is LGBT and done very well. Mystery, magic, witchcraft...it’s got a wonderful plot. I read it all in two days, the majority in one sitting and it felt like coming out of a deep sleep when I was done. One of the tattoos I plan to get is going to be related to that book.  “Strange, isn’t it? To love a book. When the words on the pages become so precious that they feel like part of your own history because they are. It’s nice to finally have someone read stories I know so intimately.”

It’s been awhile since I’ve read it, but Even the Darkest Stars (Heather Fawcett) was a good one. It has a sequel now and I keep meaning to read it. Another fantasy one. Magic, witches, demons, adventures. This is similar to the Grishaverse (Shadow and Bone series/Six of Crows) with its setting and some of the magic, but there’s some solid differences. The ending made me mad but I think it sets up the sequel well.  “I wanted to push against the world and feel it push back.”

The Deep by Rivers Solomon is a short novel, perhaps one would call it a novella. It’s POC centered and it has an intense storyline. LGBT if I remember, too. Gorgeous story about mermaids who descended from African people thrown overboard on slave ships as they came to America.  “What does it mean to be born of the dead? What does it mean to begin?”

While we’re talking about mermaids, here’s my plug for the Waterfire Saga (starting with Deep Blue). It’s actually really good and I adored reading it. I think I read through the whole series in one sitting while I was sick once. “One is not born knowing how to lead, one learns.”

These next few are going to be more in the realistic fiction, young adult fiction genre but there’s a reason for each. A piece of what, personally, working with Hades is supposed to mean and what he can represent in a relationship.

My Fairy Godmother is A Drag Queen (David Clawson). It’s a new take on an old fairytale in a modern age, but the message underlying is to be yourself and be that unapologetically. And that money and fame don’t buy happiness. It’s a humorous book and I really need to read it again. “I just felt like . . . me. And whatever “me” meant, that was perfectly fine and absolutely enough. Everyone should feel that kind of peace and self-acceptance far more often than I think most of us do.”

Starfish by Akemi Dawn Bowman (I’d say any of her books besides Infinity Courts, since that’s a different genre, but there’s two I’d like to talk about in particular). This book features POC cast. I believe Kiko, the protag, is half Japanese and half white? The message here is similar to the one above, but it deals more with breaking away from the trauma added on to expectations or an external force. I saw a lot of my relationship with my step-grandmother in this story and I sent a copy to my cousin. We both learned and grew and healed from this story and the lesson taught.  “I want to find self-worth without needing it to come from someone's approval.”

Summer Bird Blue (Akemi Dawn Bowman). This one is a lot heavier, topic wise. And actually, it’s really fitting for me at the moment. The main character loses her sister and has to figure out life without her. She goes through a period where she loses touch with her music, one of the most important things to her. It’s written partly in Pidgin (a mix of English and Hawaiian) so good luck, but it’s a beautiful story of healing and recovering from losing your other half. “Grief is a monster - not everyone gets out alive, and those who do might only survive in pieces. But it's a monster that can be conquered, with time.”

Broken Things (Lauren Oliver) Murder mystery! Uncovering the truth and laying an old friend to rest. But with drama and healing. It’s told really well and the ending caught me so off guard. I usually can’t read murder mysteries because I always guess the ending and am disappointed when I’m right. Couldn’t have guessed this one.  “That’s the thing about hearts. They don’t get put back together, not really. They just get patched. But the damage is still there.”

Finally...They Both Die at The End (Adam Silvera). Coming to terms with the inevitable end of life. This book follows to characters who know they’re going to die. LGBT romance in here as well. It’s a wild ride of a book and well, the title is completely true. There’s dealing with guilt, regret, anxiety, and other feelings that someone on their deathbed would usually have.  “Maybe it's better to have gotten it right and been happy for one day instead of living a lifetime of wrongs.”

I hope that gives you some ideas! Some of these deal with really heavy topics, so please look into that just to be sure so you’re not caught off guard. 

- Ren