#like weeping dawn

[bhaal-battle-beer-bard]

Ballad of the blood orchid

Crimson red eyes

Filled with grief and ire

White locks of fresh snow

You flee with the morning light

Never mine

Only the slightest breath of bergamot, rosemary and brandy

A fading memory already

Soft lips, silver tongue

Speaking of love

But ruby eyes never do

I see ire and pain, never fade away

Silver locks hide cruelty and suffering

Crimson red eyes

Filled with grief and ire

White locks of fresh fallen snow

You flee with the first sight of morning light

Never ever mine

Only the slightest breath of bergamot, rosemary and brandy remains

A fading memory’s testament

Innocent young heart replaced with grudge and bitterness

First hint of morning light you flee from my arms

With your heart in cold dark endless night

Holding you is like dancing with a flame

Crimson red eyes

Filled with grief and ire

White locks of fresh fallen snow

You flee with the first sight of morning light

Never ever mine

Only the hint of bergamot, rosemary and brandy

Remains as an already fading memory

Kindness and mercy ripped from the heart of the darkness

Carved scars

Ripped it from your flesh and soul

Morning light replaces caress and gentle touch

Leaves red eyes full of regret and sorrow

And your heart will stay cold and stone until tomorrow

Silvery locks of white, ruby red eyes

Flee in the morning

a/n: Normally I write my ballads and songs in the usual scheme. But I am trying something different now, thought it could fit the bardic ballad style.

I am trying to create a song, that tells about a dramatic love and is worthy of Astarion's sad, tragic story.

Because to replay it all over and over again, I see the scenes different each time. Their first night together makes me think. And I ask how it feels for Tav and Astarion during Act 1 if Tav is sincere and see through his facade, see that sweet words and smiles just cover up...

[chinelacanta]

i just know he’d be a really awkward but supportive dad (< delusional)

[hanakihan]

u know i constantly see opinion that Fate’s handling of irl history and shit leads to some insane ass results and I’m like

have you people ever considered historically (and mythologically) accurate fate down to every detail and gender and stuff that shit would be even more wilder than whatever the fuck fate has going on

[acourtofquestions]

Chapter 55 of Tower of Dawn😭

[slashingflourish]

(narrator: Of all those you killed in your Father's name, one lingers in your mind even now. Alfira, the Bard of the Emerald Grove. Her death weighs upon you still.)

this line singlehandedly inspired alfira's importance to nethandre's development, and when i finally got back it destroyed me

alfira was so important to her. she may have only known her for a tenday, but with how little nethandre remembered, she was her entire world. if she didnt rediscover music and find something she loves that has nothing to do with killing, she probably would've given in, slaughtered the grove, and spiraled back into the person she used to be

i'm sad :(

[nem0-nee]

Sigh...

Mayuu getting reworked for the ??? time...

Doing major changes with her bc she's no longer my sona 😔🙏

Any prior interaction asks regarding her will be postponed till I re-release her again.

[talesofthehollow]

Yup, we’re still kicking! Well, I’m nothing if not consistent, so here is my moodboard following the story thus far in A Song of Ash & Sky (as w/ last year and year before that). As always, thank you to @allgirlsareprincesses for keeping the Nimulot flame going w/ your riveting words! ❤

Volume 3 was a challenge, I confess... 💦 I got lost in the woods with this one, but sometimes you need that to find your way! 🤔 Notice how the latest slew of chapter heads display an interesting trend... 👀

Merry Xmas & Happy Holidays, everyone! ❤❤❤

[knightofleo]

Sarah Kirkland Snider | This Is What You’re Like feat. My Brightest Diamond

It’s true, he talks It’s true, he talks, but it’s not Anything like it was then Anything like it was When he talked the way a bird sings; Just to sing This is what you’re like Do you remember? This is what you once were like

[galaxyofender]

You mentioned in your tags that Dawn doesn't have as much of a backstory as Selene does. Do you know how she got turned into a werewolf?

so. update. dawn has a bit more backstory now! im telling you it all sorry not sorry

place names are hard, but dawn was an orphan child on the capital of this kingdom (yet to get a name-) who gets taken in a member of the silverbloom hunter guild, group who dedicate themselves to hunting vampires and was originally founded in the honor of the weeping lady (the goddess of death of this world's pantheon, who despises the undead since they are a disgrace to her domain), even if not all members of silverbloom are that religious or followers of the weeping lady necessarily- but a good amount of them do follow this goddess

the hunter that took dawn in also took another child in, theodore, who dawn grows to be quite close to, seeing him like a brother, and another orphan who ended up becoming quite a devout follower of the weeping lady and very excited to join the hunter guild once he is old enough, he sees it that getting rid of such vermin in the eyes of his goddess is a great honor 

(theodore was bdubs in the original au, the goddess was originally cleo but weeping lady became merged with another goddess from an original pantheon that didn't have a world and doesn't resemble cleo that much anymore)

so, after several years of insisting that she joins too, theodore drags dawn to join the silverbloom hunters, even if she did have some doubts, and it's during a training hunt that dawn gets bitten by a werewolf 

dawn got lost from the path in the middle of the forest, did not realize it was a full moon, ran into a “weird wolf” and got attacked and bitten by it on the leg. she hides the bite from the rest of the trainees, and ends up joining the hunters 

the bite happens roughly four to five ish months before the start of the story, so dawn is pretty new to being a werewolf still and the quest to the town where dawn meets selene is the first proper one she gets sent to by silverbloom

[infinityinakiss]

okay, so you know that theory that series 14 is a tv show, that's why there are so many fourth wall breaks, etc, etc. well, what if we had a weeping angels episode this season? it's the climax of the episode, ruby and the doctor are surrounded by angels when...nothing happens. they forcibly close their eyes just to check, but the angels aren't moving. the doctor does his signature rambling as he tries to figure out what happened, and then it dawns on him. he turns slowly, stares directly into the camera and says "oh. it's you. all of you. you're why they can't move." the doctor starts jumping around, shakes ruby for a bit (and ruby's just like wut the hell is going on), does a thing with the sonic screwdriver before starting to run when he suddenly stops and turns back. looking directly into the camera, he says "don't blink." and then he runs off to save the day.

couple minutes later, he tells ruby to stare at some angels that were out of frame by saying "babes, the camera angle's changed."

[yandere-romanticaa]

she walks in beauty.

🎀 Today is Diluc's birthday. However, instead of focusing on himself, he can't help but to fall into his usual lovesick trap of gentle obsession.

yandere! diluc ragnvidr x fem! reader.

Ever since he was a young lad, Diluc could recall every single banquet and celebration which was hosted by the Dawn Winery estate. He could still sense the smell of various colorful liquors and taste the endless sea of pastries and cakes which were served at such events, making the inner child in him smile.

However, Diluc was no longer a young child.

Ever since the passing of his father, the need to throw any grand banquets was thoroughly diminished. While yes, there were certain things he could not avoid due to societal expectations, he still made the decision to keep things to an absolute minimum.

His birthday was not one of them. At least, not by his choice.

Everyone and their mother knew what day it was today and Diluc lost count with how many birthday wishes and gifts he had received. He was a little touched with the plethora of people who wanted him nothing other than joy, but those same people quickly became a nuisance because he could not seem to be with the one he actually wanted to be with today.

And there stood Diluc, hidden in the shadowy hallway as he watched his beloved prepare for the upcoming festivities. With both his arms crossed and his left side pressed firmly against the dark wood doorframe, Diluc decided in that moment that there was nowhere else he'd rather be than here.

His red eyes watched you thoroughly like a hawk, making sure to remember the ravishing scenery before him.

As much as you disliked his gifts, you didn't have a choice but to accept them this evening. The gentle sapphire necklace hung around your neck perfectly, the fine silver glimmering gently beneath the flickering candle flames. Diluc's gaze quickly shifted to your arms as they toyed with the various strands of hair at the top of your head, carefully adjusting the matching pin he had gotten you not too long ago.

He felt his heart skip a beat once he caught a glimpse of the wedding ring on your finger, causing him to nearly lose his composure and blow his cover altogether. His own ring seemed to come alive as he felt it around his finger, seemingly pulsing with a firey need to just take you, to see the light in your eyes, to beg you to please forgive him-

Even now, he could still hear you weep, for each tear felt like a stab straight into his bleeding heart.

Please, don't lock me away, you pleaded.

"I will be with no one but you. I will give you everything you desire but please Diluc-

Do not keep me as a prisoner!"

He sighed as he fidgeted with his gloved fingers. Diluc hated himself for doing this to you, for making you so utterly miserable. He was the one who took you away, it was him who had stolen that precious smile away from you. If you had been a normal couple perhaps this evening could have been more bearable. Perhaps he could have even enjoyed it, with you by his side.

But that was not how things were going to play out.

Diluc was stuck in a Hell of his own making. Every single tear that you had shed and will shed - that was all on him. Money can buy a lot of things but your love was not one of them. A new surge of determination was born deep inside of Diluc on that night of his birthday and he finally knew what his wish was.

He wished to make amends. Perhaps he could learn to live without your love, even if the mere thought made his teeth shake in fury and heart cry out in blind sorrow.

But he needed you to know that you were loved. He needed you to know that he was going to keep you safe. He was going to love you until his very last breath and even then, he would wait for the day of your sweet forgiveness.

🥀 TAGS: @genshinarchives, @mod-kisa-blog, @juuuuuj101010, @kalopses-sonderes, @mayulli, @b10h4z4rd, @xiaopleasecomehome, @saturnalya, @alatusprinz, @lakxcpsta, @mewmeowmika, @ranposgirlboss, @goldenglow149

Happy birthday to this wonderful man. He was my first ever husband in Genshin Impact, he deserves something extra sweet from yours truly.

[chinelacanta]

more paper doodles!

[rinhaler]

Yooo, your plug!sukuna x reader fic has got me so feral imgggg

And it got me thinking

imagine Yuuji and Sukuna double teaming you???

this is not canon buuuuuuuuuuuuuuut... it is hot so hope u like this hehe

warnings: 18+ MDNI, fem!reader, incest (itadori bro's sharing u), double penetration (one hole), degradation, praise, cheating mention, bruising, hair pulling, oral fixation, daddy kink mention, spanking, squirting, creampie.

words: 1.1k

“B-Baby I- fuck. How could y-ou? Fuck him of all- all people?” Yuuji wonders, fingers gripping into your sides deeply. You’re bound to bruise. With the way he’s fucking you and squeezing into your supple flesh, you can practically feel the broken blood vessels forming purple blooms with every thrust into your squelching cunt.

It isn’t deliberate.

He just wants you to remember who you belong to.

“’m sorry!” you cry, tears pelting down onto the mattress below as he batters your interior again and again. “I didn’t mean t’ fuck him.. I didn’t—!”

“Aht aht. None of that,” Sukuna speaks, his fingers lacing through your hair and yanking enough to elicit a pained yelp from you. Your eyes shimmer as you they reflect the stare of red irises that have become so easy to manipulate you. “Wasn’t like that when you were crying for me to ruin you, was it? In fact…” he pulls out his phone and quickly finds the home made sex tape he’d made without asking.

“D-Don’t…” you sob, though you don’t have it in you to really fight him. He pushes his thumb by the seam of your lips in a bid to shut you up. And in your cock drunk, dazed state, you begin to suck like a baby with a pacifier. You clench around Yuuji as the video begins to play and you hear how loud you’re moaning for your boyfriend’s elder brother. The sex was phenomenal and you’ll never forget it for as long as you live. “Remember this? Hm?” he questions as he swipes to a certain point of the video.

“Want you to br-uuise my c-cervix, daddy.”

You scream, a trail of drool connecting his thumb to your tongue as you can’t help yourself when Yuuji spanks your ass. He’s seen it before, of course, but it doesn’t make it any easier. God you sound desperate, and in that moment, you were.

“Think it’s okay to f-fuck my brother? Huh? You were meant to say no.” he reminds you. He pulls your back into his chest and holds each of your wrists in his hands and keeps them near the small of your back. And he uses them, for leverage, as he fucks his length into your weeping slit. “Beggin’ for him to bruise your cervix like that? Had no idea what a little slut you were. You want him to fuck you again, don’t you?”

“N-No!” you lie. You’d love Sukuna to ravage you again. To make a complete mess of your insides and churn your brain into mush. You don’t want to think about anything but getting destroyed by him and Yuuji.

You feel so spoilt.

Sukuna doesn’t say a word as he gets closer to you. His length runs through your folds and nudges your clit as Yuuji keeps you pinned in place. Your face twinkles as the light reflects off of your tear stricken cheeks.

Yuuji slows down as Sukuna helps you angle your hips.

Though you aren’t sure how it’s only just dawning on you now what is happening.

Sukuna’s heavy mushroom tip begins to split your cunt further open. Each yelp and cry silenced by Yuuji as he smothers your mouth and whispers into your ear.

“Shhhh, baby, you can take him. You’ve done it before, yeah? Good girl, sh sh sh…” he consoles you. His hands grope your tits and his lips smother your neck and shoulder in soft kisses as he tries to distract you from the stinging stretch being inflicted upon you. “That’s it… good fucking girl… you can take us both, yeah? You wan’ us to fuck you stupid, yeah?”

You hum, unsure if you’re agreeing or not. Nothing is really making sense when all you can focus on is the fact you’re somehow accommodating two Itadori cocks at once.

“Look at you… elastic little cunt.” Sukuna snarls, laughing as he drinks in the sight of you being double stuffed like a porn star. He grabs his phone, taking a quick picture so that Yuuji can see the view he’s seeing.

“Woah… you’re so good, baby. Takin’ us so well.” he praises, kissing the skin behind your ear before slowly rolling his hips again.

“Don’t fucking praise her yet, haven’t even moved.” Sukuna starts, his hips begin to move too. Their thrusts are off beat and your heart begins to pound. You aren’t getting a break to get used to the feeling. The tempo of their mismatched thrusts has your vision whiting out. Your head lolls backwards onto Yuuji’s shoulder as they continue to ruin you, and you swear you can’t breathe.

You aren’t sure if you’re even there.

“M-Maybe we should slow down,” Yuuji tells Sukuna, his hips already slowing before he finishes his sentence.

“Fuck that.” Sukuna grabs your jaw and forces you to look at him. Drool spills from your lips and your eyes can’t focus. But he knows you’re listening and he knows you’re looking. You’re in there somewhere, enjoying this. “We already know you’re a whore so don’t act shy now.”

“’m g’na c-um.” you manage to squeak out even in your dazed state. “H-aah!” you struggle, but your pussy does all the talking for you. The sound of liquid spilling out of you is deafening. The suctioning and squelching sounds that follow are just as boisterous as they continue to pound into you. And just as you think your high is drawing to a close, their sloppy thrusts pick up the pace.

Another stream of liquid gushes from your cunt as they abuse your sweet spot in independently. Your head falls forward onto Sukuna’s chest, now. And he uncharacteristically cradles the crown of your head as you rest there.

Yuuji lets go of the singular wrist he’s still holding so he can focus on fucking into you. And he does, loudly. His moans are raucous as he empties his balls into your greedy hole.

Sukuna soon follows, hissing through his teeth as he spills his seed soon after his brother. None of you want to move, least of all you. You’re still clenching around them both while you rest against Sukuna’s chest. Yuuji begins to kiss at your shoulder, telling you how perfect and beautiful you are. And you shudder when his kisses trail down the column of your spine.

The elder brother is silent as he pants, stroking your hair repeatedly as he contemplates what just happened. But he hurriedly moves his hand away when he sees Yuuji look up at him.

“Knew she could take us,” he smirks. “Your girlfriend’s a perfect little whore.”

© 2023 rinhaler

[peachesofteal]

ghoap x reader / 18+ mdni / dark themes / prev here / masterlist

Six thirty in the morning might be your favorite time of day. 

It’s the before.

Before anyone else comes in, before the morning rush, before the chime of the front door’s bell, before the shop is filled with lines of people, before it all upends you.

At six thirty in the morning, you sit in the back, perched on the prep table, with a fresh cup of coffee. You leave the side door open, screen separating you from the world, fresh air mixing with the smell of strawberry basil scones, cinnamon coffee cake and mini kolaches, fruited with whatever jam you’ve managed to throw together. Steam rises, semolina spills, the sun dawns, and the world wakes… all well after you’ve had your breakfast.

This corner of the city is busy, and the shop always hums like a well-oiled machine in the dregs of a rush, the front counter team churning out specialty coffees and teas effortlessly. It’s cyclical, similar faces every day, morning commuters rushing in and out, locals settling in a nook with their laptops and lattes, people swinging in for a quick bite. You hide in the back, usually, elbow deep in sudsy warm water with your mountain of dishes, answering the occasional shout of 'do we have more of-' and 'just sold the last-'

This morning in particular, cranberry orange scones, pumpkin muffins and mini quiches are the only things left cooling on the speed racks, waiting patiently for their turn to be placed in the display case, an endless cycle of replenishment lasting until the rush dies down, morning fading into afternoon, triple shot monstrosities turning into decaf coffees. 

It’s laborious, this routine. Five, six, sometimes seven days a week, going to bed with the sun, rising before it. Your wrists ache from rolling dough, cutting dough, scraping dough. Your back weeps when you lift the bowl from the mixer stand every morning, and your joints fare no better. You need new boots, and new insoles for your new boots, and probably a new standing mat, though you know your boss will never go for it. 

You’re tired.

The exhaustion settles into your bones easily today, wearing you down until you’re allowing your eyes to close, wilting atop the butcher’s block- 

The shop phone rings. 

You heave yourself down and swing through the double doors to the front, scrambling for the classic corded receiver, nearly fumbling it in your hands. 

“Hello?” Shit. You always forget to answer with the shop’s name. You’re not exactly the customer facing part of the operation. “Galaxy’s.” You correct and… wait. 

There’s no response. 

You think you can hear someone breathing, something rustling, but it’s too faint and difficult to make out. 

“’Lo?” You try again, but still, there’s silence. It’s an unending moment, you on one end… who knows what on the other, and you hold your breath, straining to hear, to listen. 

The line clicks dead in the next second. 

Odd. 

The shop girl is chewing gum. 

You’ve told her a million times not to chew gum when she’s working the counter, but clearly, she’s never heard of norovirus, and you’re not the boss, or the owner, so being the broken record only gets you so far. 

“There’s someone out front to see you.” She snaps it between her front teeth, and your molars grind together like stone. 

“Who?” You toss a clean towel on the stainless steel table in the middle of the kitchen with a frown. You don’t really get visitors here, most of your friends are in the same industry, and either work the line too late to be up in time to even get coffee somewhere, or are already at work, buried beneath a bain-marie and the never-ending sound of a ticket printer. 

There’s dried, caulked dough caked to your fingers, shoved up underneath your nails, and you brush them self-consciously against the ratty old apron stretched across your waist. 

The surprise lingers on your tongue, and then explodes when you spot the massive dusky blonde from the other day, the one who was with the guy who split the coffee all over your favorite dress. He’s too tall, and too broad, and too imposing, everything in your sense of self-preservation screaming at you to run when he notices you approaching, gleam of a predator sparkling in his eyes.  

Still, somewhere, tucked away, it thrills you, the idea of them, the balancing act, two halves of a whole. He’s etched from stone, strong and steady, while his partner is saporous, vibrant, and riotous, crystal blue eyes sparkling in the mid-day sun. 

You wonder what they're like. What they talk about. What they do.

Curiosity killed the cat.

Your skin prickles once you fall into his orbit, immobilized by the molten toffee pooling around his irises. You float for a second, tracing his knife’s edged jaw, the fullness of his lips, imperfect pieces puzzled together to make a masterpiece, and then crash back to earth quickly, realizing you’re standing in front of him… staring. 

“Uh. Hi.” What is he doing here? How did he know where to find you?

“Sorry to barge in on you at work.” He starts immediately, wallet appearing from his back pocket like a magic trick. “Wanted to make sure we settled up.” Thick fingers hold a folded nest of notes, and you stare down at them, slowly processing what he means.

Cash? 

“Oh, I… I have… venmo. Or we could use apple pay, you didn’t have to come all the-“ 

“Don’t have venmo.” His mouth tilts, and you go with it, head listing to the side like a wayward buoy. “This is easier.” He pushes it into your hand, peeling your fingers back to enclose the money in your palm, heat sparking up your spine. 

“How did you know where I worked?” You blurt, unable to keep it at bay any longer. The question singes, settles uncomfortably in the sparks between you. 

“Saw you in the back yesterday, when we were in for a cuppa.” Oh. Suspicion sheds, snakeskin left behind on a cold, dusty trail, suspension of disbelief settling in the back of your mind. Sure. After all, this is where you ran into them last week, on your day off. They do come here. 

“Well. Thanks.” 

“It’s our pleasure. Hope the stain came out okay.” 

“Oh, yeah. It’s… still at the cleaners.” This is absolutely false, but he doesn’t need to know that. The spare bills will probably go towards your energy bill, and the ruined dress will go in the trash. 

It is what it is. 

“Couldn’t help but notice when I was comin’ through the parking lot that the back door is open.” His voice swoops low, dropping into a rumble, and you blink, lips parting. 

“Oh, um y-yeah. I like the breeze.” He shakes his head, a simple rejection, leaving you spinning. 

“City’s not the safest right now, yeah?” Oh, yeah. Of course, you knew. Rival factions of organized crime were leaving a red sea of bodies in their wake all over town, a new murder popping up in the headlines nearly every week. 

But you were safe. You were fine. Galaxy’s had never been stained with the bloody touch of any of them, and you took it as fact. Permanence. 

You agree reluctantly, watching the storm clouds roil on across his expression before evaporating. You shrug, hands clutched in your apron, doubt and skepticism clear on your face.

His expression shutters. His eyes turn cold.   

His thumb and forefinger dart through the air, latching onto your chin. 

You freeze. You should tug away, jerk backwards, yell and scream and hiss, but all you can do is stand there, caught in a trap and trembling as he leans forward to murmur in your ear. 

“Lock the door, little doe.” 

[rockingbytheseaside]

✦ The Legend of a Faceless Harbinger

(Imagine Headless Horseman Capitano x reader. No, I won’t elaborate.)

✧ In an unassuming village nestled by a quaint, insignificant hamlet, you lived in a humble farmhouse. A modest living, with but a few sheep and a tightly held community. Everyone knew each other in the village, for its residents were few, fostering familiarity among its inhabitants and their whereabouts. 

The villagers liked tales of premonition and the paranormal – stories of vengeful Hilichurls, weeping Seelies, or berserk Witches who burn everything in their path. However, one of the legends was about a Faceless Knight, bloodstained and brooding, with a mighty steed supporting his towering frame. Legend has it that the Knight’s armor once shone silver and pristine, but after years of bloodshed and gruesome battles, the knight’s body shifted to that of a monster; the same ones he once swore to destroy. Now faceless, monstrous, and donning a void-like helmet - the Knight rides off into the night, galloping between the living and dead. 

✧ You, on the other hand, disregarded such gossip. If the night was scary because a headless knight reigned dominion over it, then why did you always find solace in it, when the sky is clear and the stars are shining? 

You lived by the outskirts and were content taking care of your small flock of chickens and sheep. You had your fresh bread, a small basket of eggs, and homemade dairy. In the early hours of dawn, you took care of your abode, small patches of vegetables sprouting by the sunlight. And in the late hours of dusk, you sat by the windowsill from your bedroom, gazing up at the stars above. 

Yet as you silently watched the night, a hidden figure, merging with the shadows gazed back at you. His horse neighed softly until a clawed hand patted its head. 

✧ One day, a couple of sheep wandered off from your farmhouse and went missing. The weather was cloudy and the gray clouds threatened a heavy pour if you didn't hurry and found your wandering flock. With your trusty shepherd's crook, you hurried off to run into the forest hoping you'd find them somewhere nearby.

Once you reached the wild forest, it didn't take long to spot your wandering sheep, running in the direction of their baaing. They huddled close by the bushes, grazing on the grass leisurely. You smiled in silent relief, reaching closer toward them until suddenly - you halted. Amidst the dense foliage, a figure emerged, and it dawned on you that your sheep were not simply loitering there by chance. They had been intentionally led here, and at the sight of the stranger, you tensed, clutching your trusty crook. A man on horseback drew nearer, his jet-black steed carefully moving. But the figure was even taller. Dark armor and clanking chains were not as imposing as the sight of his featureless, hollow helmet met you head-on.

It was the faceless Knight. He kept his distance, but his helmet directed straight at you, wordless and careful. With a slight incline of his head, he observed your sheep turning towards you, providing you the opportunity to safely guide your flock home. And as for you? You quivered like a lamb, petrified at the sight of a man of his stature, with only the murky depths of his helmet meeting your gaze.

Thus, you fled. Pushing your sheep hastily from the forest, you didn't look back at the mancing knight. Your heart hammered and you swiftly led your animals back to your farm, locking them in their barn and fearing for your own life. 

✧ In the upcoming days, you didn’t dare to exit your house’s safety. You were convinced that you were living your last days, however, nothing amiss occurred. Instead, things got better in your farmhouse. You don’t know why, but The animals scarcely strayed, the howls of wolves seldom pierced the night, and neither hilichurls nor bothersome slimes encroached upon your land.

You felt an air of change in your quaint farmhouse, despite your sense of alarm remaining after meeting the brooding Harbinger. 

Occasionally, at the earliest hours of dawn, when you get up, you are greeted with small flowers on the steps of the house. Sometimes it’s plucked lamp grass, and at other times it’s a wreath of valberry leaves. In a state of befuddlement, you’d blink, looking back and forth around your entrance. 

You had a secret protector, and your heart yearned to thank whoever that was. 

✧ If someone was leaving you small gifts of flora and guarding your house, it was only courteous to thank them. Therefore, you came up with a plan to leave a small assortment of items in a basket as a response. From time to time, by the footsteps of your house, you’d leave a basket with fresh apples. Sometimes, it would be a loaf of bread you baked. These signs of gratitude persisted, and in return, the gifts grew in magnitude. From small bouquets to rare artifacts and even warm pelts. 

The routine of offerings and gifts became a way of silent communication with your generous benefactor.

Until one late afternoon, you heard screaming right outside your farmhouse. You dashed out of the house and noticed that the usual basket was gone. You just had it filled with homegrown fruits and baked goods, yet it was missing entirely. When you turned your attention towards the commotion, you gasped in surprise at the sight.

The same faceless Knight, in his clad black armor, dragging a kicking peasant with a firm grip. The man was kicking and screaming in horror, his wrist already marred by the Harbinger’s grip. However, what surprised you, was that the basket was in his arms.

“Please let me go-! I didn’t know! I didn’t know to whom it belonged,” - the peasant was thrown hard onto the ground right in front of your feet, the basket and its good rolling out. 

“Lies are inexcusable. And stealing deserves its punishment.” 

The Harbinger spoke firmly, marching straight at the man. Overcoming your shock, you understood - this person stole the basket of food you left, but then the receiver who protected your farmhouse all this time is… 

You shook your head, and before the faceless entity could take a step closer to the thief, you stood with your arms out - “Wait!”

The Harbinger stopped in an instant, that faceless mask going silent as the armored hand tightly closed into a fist. The peasant was shaking behind you.

“It’s not worth it, just some homegrown food anyway. P-please, let this man go.” 

“He stole what you worked hard for. That which is not meant to be his.” 

“I know, but it is not a fair punishment to spill blood in return!”

The headless harbinger let out a low rumble, his massive form towering over you and the begging thief. After a prolonged moment of tense silence, he stated his verdict.

“You were lucky to be granted mercy. Heed my words, there won’t be a next time. Go.” 

The words were short but decisive, spoken out of pure malevolence towards the one who took your offerings that were intended for him. Crawling on his knees, the man shook and thanked you both for mercy, scurrying off the ground of your farmhouse and running away. 

✧ You kneeled by the fallen basket, picking up some of the flowers and fruits that rolled to the grassy ground. As you silently picked them up, you almost flinched when an armored hand appeared in front of you, offering you assistance to get up. When you raised your gaze - a hallow, pitch-black helmet looked back at you. 

You placed your hand delicately onto his.

“Excuse me, Mr… uh, Knight. I thank you for catching the thief and my goods. But may I ask: was it you who brought those gifts by the entrance of my house?”

He remains silent for a moment, and you couldn’t tell whether he was contemplating his answer or studying every nuance of your face up close. After a long moment, he slowly nods his head "Yes." 

A sigh of relief escaped you. Partly due to your fear of the frightening figure, but also because of your suspicion about who the unseen protector of your farmhouse was.

“Then it was you who kept my rural home safe from monsters or predators.” - you nodded, remembering how your flock of sheep was huddled close and safe even when they all got lost before. “You won’t hurt me…?”

“I could never. You have my vow.” 

His voice no longer held that firm animosity it did when he spoke to the thief. Now it was low and deep. His form helped you pick up the dropped belongings and walked you back to the farm.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, a tranquil stillness enveloped the surroundings as you dutifully trailed behind him. A novel sense of anticipation washed over you, distinct from the usual apprehension. For the Harbinger, it was not his first time remaining close to the soil of your modest abode. In fact, he always remained nearby. However, he felt immense guilt for giving you such fright. 

“...I owe you an apology. I intruded on your ground when I caught the thief. But even less honorably so, I never revealed myself formally to you. I did not wish to see you scared.”  

You listened closely, witnessing the sincerity in his movements. You stood close to the pastors, the grass rustling idly by the night breeze. His ominous figure is a stark contrast to you and your cozy dwelling.

“I understand… I do not blame you. I must also apologize for my startled demeanor. I never expected it would be you who actually helped me all this time.” 

The knight tilts his head to the side, keeping a polite hand with yours as he lets you sit on the grass. Every movement he did for you was cautionary and gentle. The two of you sat on the ground, the night sky illuminating the first stars of the night. 

“I just wish to know… Why such kindness?” - you asked at last, easing up the courage to look him straight into the hollowness of his helmet. 

The anticipated question made the Harbinger go quiet. He couldn't deny it, but he found solace in watching you work. How diligently you took care of your animals, how you watered the vegetation, how you smiled joyously when you’d return with a basket full of fresh eggs. It was a tender sight, even as the harbinger maintained his distance on the forest's periphery, secretly yearning to draw nearer to you.

He wished to tell you so much. About how he finds you to be the loveliest person in all of these lands, the most sincere and hardworking. How he enjoys gazing at you the same way you gaze at the stars. Yet now, being in your proximity, the sight of your beauty up close had rendered his thoughts useless and all he could manage was:

"Perhaps I’m utterly infatuated by you."

[humanveil]

SUCCESSION (2018 – 2023) season finales + final shots

There sat down, once, a thing on Henry's heart só heavy, if he had a hundred years & more, & weeping, sleepless, in all them time Henry could not make good. Starts again always in Henry's ears the little cough somewhere, an odour, a chime. And there is another thing he has in mind like a grave Sienese face a thousand years would fail to blur the still profiled reproach of. Ghastly, with open eyes, he attends, blind. All the bells say: too late. This is not for tears; thinking. But never did Henry, as he thought he did, end anyone and hacks her body up and hide the pieces, where they may be found. He knows: he went over everyone, & nobody's missing. Often he reckons, in the dawn, them up. Nobody is ever missing. —Dream Song 29, John Berryman.