#maeru

[yamikuruku]

head empty 👁👁

say hello to Safa the service dog Varren, for anyone who has not seen them yet

[souenkun]

I rewatched the last two episodes of Fruits Basket (2019)'s first season because Lance's Pokemon Masters seiyuu (Morikawa Toshiyuki) voices a kind man who is the father to one of the protagonists called Kazuma Sohma.

If anyone wants a dose of hearing Lance being a dad in real life to Silver, this is the closest thing that you'll get! Morikawa Toshiyuki sounds as gentle as Lance when he voices Kazuma, too 🏃‍♀️💨

(I even have my suspicion that Morikawa Toshiyuki might be casted as Lance due to his role in Fruits Basket, considering Pokemas once casted a seiyuu who had voiced an anime character that's very similar to their Pokemas role *side-eyeing Hiroshi Kamiya in Natsume Yuujinchou and Morty* 🤭)

[dyrewrites]

Weald and Wen -- be safe, little heart

Be safe, little heart, Naunni hoped as he entwined his vivid blue paws with the myriad shades of the other Speakers, forming the circle that would empower their message, be safe and far from the terror we beckon...and forgive us.

Hewn in crystal and oval in shape, the oratory sparkled with the shared glow of spilled tears and sung Breath as each Speaker welcomed their shadows into their flesh.

Naunni's voice rose to shudder each of the gathered Fyrni with the strength of his Breath. It rippled through paws, through arms, through flesh and bone—racking their frames with his sorrow. At the center of their circle, pale and shivering, greater sorrow whispered—weeping full and soaked—from a kneeling youngling, his paws clasped together, his head bowed.

It will not take you, my heart, Maeru said to one too far to hear, it will not have your Breath or the flesh that binds it, nor any more of our blood. Not while we breathe. Not while we are whole. His shadow, spread wide beneath him, stuttered and spiked with longing as the Elders' voices reverberated off the walls.

Their Breath poured into it, into him, their power seeping into fur, into flesh and he howled with the burn of it, the bright of it—the promise.

A beacon, he chanted, with those shared voices, we are a beacon.

“Come for us, foul emptiness,” Maeru taunted the chill growing not from the Oratory but his own shadow—the lands it linked to. “Come sup our guilt and taste our shame. Devour us that all others might avoid your pain.”

[scalpelandrose]

“My heart is in your hands to hold through all bounds of reality and dream, For even the ancient seas cannot begin to fathom the intense depths of emotion I hold for you in these hands & in this heart.”

So glad I managed to finish this in time for Valentine’s Day 😮‍💨I wanted to illustrate something expressing the cherish, surrender, and trust, character to Law & my s/i OC’s dynamic. The concept was to depict their dual powers almost ‘entwined,’ with Law using Mes for them to exchange hearts & Michelle using Cantus Maerus to wrap them both in a non-lethal version of her dream briars, while sitting in innocent skin-to-skin, emphasizing a feeling of raw togetherness. Setting the background in the Polar Tang’s Captain’s quarters was meant to establish a sense of private intimacy, while the ocean outside the porthole symbolizes the vast seas of experiences that made them who they are + those that they have yet to encounter, along with representing an entity that brought them together 💙🌹🩺

[ifreakingloveroyals]

26 November 2015 | Children greet Prince Harry as he visits to the Sentebale charity in Maeru, Lesotho, Sentebale. Lesotho's Prince Seeiso co-founded Sentebale with Harry in 2006, and the new facility is named after his mother Queen Mamohato but also recognises the Princess of Wales. (c) Ian Vogler-Pool/Getty Images

[nollywoodprofilesgist]

Rising Star in Nollywood : Odah Stanley Ozoemenam Profile

My Name is Odah Stanley ozoemenam Ezzagu Ishielu LGA. Ebonyi Nigeria. My Primary school was with Ogboji central School Ezzagu, while My Secondary school was with CSS Azunyiba before I gained admission with OSISATEC were I graduated. I joined the movie industry since 2010 making it almost 14 years in the game. I can not remember how many movies that I have been featured in but have Executively Produced are more than 15. Outside movie, I deal with Lady's Bags importation. My regret in movie Industry are the moment I lost my colleagues in the industry. My Role model in movie Industry is Zubby Michael and My Life Role Model is My Dad. My aspirations in life is to be a person of societal importance and human advocacy. My motivational words to other actors is not much but to be patience. I think government should do is to provide the adequate security in the community, so that the movie makers would feel safe and secure to making movies comfortably, and possible partnership in the general welfare of actors in the country. Marital status ; Maerues If anything will make Me go off movie Industry, I will be Running My charity organisation to the betterment of the poor masses in our society.

[dyrewrites]

Faerai gets sniffly often, but it takes a bit to muster genuine tears. She's got a pretty good grip on her emotions, especially for someone so very young. It takes a lot to break her...but when she breaks, she shatters.

This is from the ending chapters of Weald and Wen, so it is unedited, but I quite like her falling apart. While she cries a few times before it, this is the last she cries in this book.

They are not happy tears and she is already beginning to cry when the scene begins.

-> and it is long <-

The blue-lit artery of the Rimlet was clogged with broken bodies and wailing, fleeing Auru set to the discordant melody of cracking shells and shattering glass. While the many lampposts lining it flared, popped and shuddered before clattering to the stones with cacophonous cries, revealing inky tendrils beneath.

As Faerai skidded from the shell, eyes wide and wet, the chittering laughter of the Nothing punctuated the din, interspersed with shrieking howls and the squelching crackle of teeth through flesh and bone. Delgrij’s sincerity as he begged mercy for the Auru played in her thoughts as the scent of his guilt overpowered the death billowing before her and her false antlers itched.

And she could take no more.

Gripping them tight, she groaned and growled and tore the Breath-stitched threads from her head, tearing fur and spilling the silver-blues of her blood in thick rivulets. But the pain mattered little to what throbbed inside her and she set her eyes next on her false hooves, kicking them free before that building rage found her fur. Its vile color matched too well with the bodies cracking against the stones.

So she tore it out.

Scratching at the alien color of her arms and legs, she splashed herself in greater flecks of silver.

Yes! Tear it out! Tear it all out. Let the Auru see our flesh, Fyrni voices called from the Woven Breath within her own, let them see our teeth, see the joy on our lips and feel the rage in our Breath. Let them know us as we watch them bleed.

Shaking her head at the bitter words growled through her mind, Faerai pinched her eyes to block as well the broken Auru splattering along shell and stone. But twisted, eager faces of fallen Fyrni flashed behind her lids, refusing to let her hide.

She longed for Maeru’s sweet warnings as voices far too broken returned.

Watch, Weaver! Watch the flesh break and blood flow. Watch as they watched! Their pain is ours to savor, yours! Feel them! Feel them crack and bleed and die.

Faerai’s veins pulsed with their rage and burned with their hate as the fallen Fyrni’s growls clawed through her skull.

She ached to heed them, to slash her claws into Hunter flesh and bathe in the heat of their blood. The crash of another sparklight bulb echoed, through the wailing Rimlet, with further shrieks to join it as more Auru were slurped and broken by a hunger greater than their own and the Fyrni voices in her rose with rapturous moans.

Gripping her ears, Faerai pulled them tight and bit raw pain through her lip to trap the howl in her throat, but she could not block what lived inside as their moans sang louder and louder.

Warm branches clutched her, “Calm. Breathe,” the fresh voice sang, with syrup that drenched what moaned within.

And Faerai obeyed, breathing steady and deep as Delgrij’s words burned through her thoughts, chasing away those of the fallen Fyrni.

Leaving her a mess of tears swaying in his branches.

“We are angry,” she whimpered, “in pain. Hate Hunters, but, but we do not want this. Elleyr, Delgrij, we not mean it, not want to...watch Auru die.”

Delgrij said no more but knelt to accept her into his lap as her grief curled her tighter into herself. Petting the fur between her ears, he tightened his lips at the patches of bare skin, and the drying blood. A bruised glow and creaky voice demanded focus, but as his question sought sound he lost the pebble in the scattered bodies of fighting Auru.

--

->Weald and Wen Taglist<-

~Lemme know if you want on/off~

@sapphicwizards @tragedycoded @rowanmgrey-author @watermeezer @badscientist

@hyacinthslibrary @olliexwrites @wyked-ao3 ^.-

Xena’s Share Day

when’s the last time a character cried? what made them cry? are they easy criers, or does it take a lot to pull that out of them? were they happy tears? pained? let us see it!

[birdologist]

fussing on possible designs for marco and alex’s kids

[maeru-id]

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Maeru Tour Transport (@maeru.id)

Marhaban ya RAMADHAN Bulan suci nan penuh berkah dan kebaikan telah tiba Selamat menjalankan ibadah puasa Ramadhan 1440 Hijriah #ramadhan #ramadhankareem #maeru #puasa #fasting #indonesia #ramadhantiba https://www.instagram.com/p/BxCNGqPlWJx/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=elp8aec53w2m

[dyrewrites]

Pale Blood OCs;

Delmas would be boxing still, enjoying the "made" life of Upper city living...filling all the wrong empty places with men and booze.

Odea would have been spared her coven, and so would likely go back to working for the city as a freelance techwitch with a side-gig as a healer with her mother. Who would come home from "coven" work in need of greater healing than anything they did for the citizenry and it would get harder and harder to keep the cause a secret.

Ron would be dead, as his traumatic experience was being resurrected without his say-so. Who's to say if that would be better for him.

Den would be with his father. His parents splitting up caused a war in the city and a tighter tether to his mother...who punished any and all wolves who tried to join their father in the Wylds. One such wolf being Den. Whichever one of those you want to count as the trauma, he'd be with his father without it.

Weald and Wen OCs;

Parnamyr and Mitra would be with their Lady, in another time, in another world, content to bask for eternity among life that bends to their whims.

Delgrij would be blissfully ignorant of the horrors he lives on a daily basis, content to continue on as lure and plaything for his colony. If you want to take away that trauma, you gotta go back before he was grown...in which case he would not be living.

Faerai would be going through the ceremony to make her bond with Maeru official before training to lead a Harvest, with her papa and what is essentially her step-dad.

Okay next eve's weird question time because I can't sleep: this is straight from arttok but what kind of life your oc would be livibg without the trauma

[yamikuruku]

[dyrewrites]

Weald and Wen -- mine

Blood beat in her ears as Ozma’s blended voices sang with her lips and others shouted inside her, SONG. LISTEN. WEAVE.

Thicker her shadow oozed along her fur, burning through skin and amplifying the Breath within. There it drew from somewhere deeper than blood, clearer than sound and forced her to listen.

Before her, all too brightly flashing, Maeru writhed with a sad grin on his wavering lips as overlapping melodies flooded Faerai’s ears.

A kaleidoscope of color swirled with, blinding in its cacophonous bright, as the Song she could not find found her.

Gasping through the words spilling from her lips, she shook beneath Ozma, while the Song poured louder, thicker, brighter, threatening to drown her every sense. An undercurrent of broken notes throbbed with it, through her blood as the discordant aria grew higher, choking her with scraps of the Fyrni yet trapped in the statues.

So warm they were, so familiar. A warren of memory and light, of brighter turns than those she lived the last cycle. Tattered and dim they yet sang to her sweet as syrup, flowing into her Breath, through it, dancing so beautifully she did not want to let them go.

LISTEN. WEAVE, the blended voices barked.

Faerai refused.

She swayed with the dance, the warmth and comfort of those gasps, those scraps of lives lost. Lives she did not wish to forget. To live without. And so she held them.

All of them.

Faelu, Hael, Ruen, Ophni, Loph, Ozram…Naunni.

What they once were she grasped too tight, wailing as what remained screamed and writhed inside her Breath. They beat against her consciousness with each and every stuttered—final—gasp of their own, their suffering seeping into her. Becoming hers.

Ozma’s voices chanted louder, all but shouting for her to send, to Weave and Faerai shook harder as she grasped for a lone note in the chaos. A note to hold, to keep, to wrap the Breath she kept tighter around her own.

Thready as it sang, she found it, and her melody built, ragged and shrill with tear-choked voice to carry it. In bright green harmony it chimed through the cacophony surrounding it and sight smoked and stuttered with another voice.

A present voice, sharp with worry.

Faerai! Maeru shouted through the Song, through her, Weave those gasps into the Lady’s Breath, you cannot keep us all!

We need them, Faerai insisted, note held fast, clinging tight to all the gasps she dared not abandon. They scratched inside her, angry, frightened, but they were hers—all of them hers.

You do not! I am with you! I come willing, eager and whole. But those are agony, with too little of themselves to offer. They will take and take if they are not returned. Their Breath is poison!

Faerai ignored his cries and held the Breaths of the Speakers, of her warren, of her father, tighter and tighter.

Ozma’s Song barked, the reddening threads of its Breath tugging at her own, tugging at what she kept. While those gasps screamed in terrified, empty voices, jerking through her veins, racking limbs with violent spasms.

Still she held. Still she hummed.

My warren, my Fyrni, she urged them, stay with me, stay in me.

Vision locked to Maeru as he wisped in her Breath…the others pulsing with him, and Faerai shuddered. Too hard they thundered in her and the notes of her shadow’s Song howled rougher, threatening to drown her fragile melody.

GIVE, it insisted, WEAVE.

But she would not. Instead she hummed deeper, holding her melody as she kept all of them firm in her sight.

->Weald and Wen Taglist<-

~Lemme know if you want on/off~

@sapphicwizards @fortunatetragedy @rowanmgrey-author @watermeezer ^.-

[ushidoux]

[edennohebi]

The Winter Solstice Celebration

Some may have learned to fear the television buzzing to life while others will simply ignore it at their own expense ( Though it rarely does any good: Choices matter not here, & the snakes will force you to listen to their demands ), but the sing-song ‘hello’ from a lesser-heard voice does wonders to catch the attention & snap a soul up by the ear.

Your greeting comes from the Princess & the elder Prince rather than their progenitors -- & it seems in good spirits, which couldn’t mean anything other than something awful was bound to come… right?

“ Hellllooo -- can you hear me? Testing, one, two -- well, it’s not like you can answer back, huh? ”

“ Haa? You never know -- They may very well try to throw themselves through the screens one of these days. ”

“ Wuuh? No way! That’s like something from a horror movie Onii-chan, it’s not a fun thought at all! ”

“ Ne? & here I thought you’d enjoy something as gruesome as that,” His palms splay out as his shoulders rise & fall in a careless shrug, one that’s far too relaxed. “Oh well ~. ”

Maeru only offers a close-mouthed snicker in apparent amusement before crossing her arms & casting a pink-hued gaze camera-bound yet again. This banter between the two felt unprofessional, but at least the comedic value made it feel more like a light-hearted channel than two murderers running a podcast.

“ They’re not terrible , but creepy little kids are a whole different thing! But we’ve wasted enough time -- so guess what, guys~? ”

“ Though a Christmas celebration would be absolutely blasphemous for us lovely serpentine hosts, we ARE happy to introduce you all to our culture’s winter solstice celebration~! There’s nothing bad and you get to dress up too, so it’ll just be a nice break from all the torment you’ve been through lately ! -- Right, Onii-chan? ”

Although his eyes had rolled during Maeru’s monologue -- whether it be in genuine exasperation or harmless teasing between two siblings was unclear, & truthfully, didn’t matter all too much -- he offers the camera a much more coy, crooked grin and a narrowing of his eyes that was all too much like his father’s.

“ Right, right -- It really isn’t all too bad, you know. Celebrating death & being reborn certainly sounds grim to you humans, I’m sure, but any fear you all have is way too hypocritical! That is what your,” He waves a finger as his brows knit together. “ Own holidays celebrate, isn’t it? ” His shoulders raise in another shrug, & his head tilts to the side slightly. “But of course, who are you all to say no at the offer of food? There is a promised feast, drinks, & activities -- though I wouldn’t consider it kindness on our part. Just tradition. ”

“ Even so, this isn’t one of those things you’re FORCED into either -- so just come to Hanami Recital in Invidia if you want to have some fun & relax with your friends or get to know those who’re still strangers! We’ll play Three Kings to exchange gifts, decorate a tree, have a dance… it’ll be great~! That’s just the beginning of it too, so just come & see for yourself -- but bring a coat! Shiro is a good snow maker with a little assistance, so maybe it’ll help you feel at home? ”

The two exchange a glance, red eyes meeting pink & their smiles parallel before they turn their focus back onto the camera once more. With the briefest of snickers hissed behind their teeth, they offer the camera a wave each --- Maeru’s with the daintiest wave of her hand that one would figure she’s mocking you, & Toumetsu with an insincere salute as the screen fizzles into nothingness. 

UPDATES :

✘ all around the invidia ward are fairy lights of different colors that will flicker to life once the sun sets -- which it will . for the duration of the event the invidia ward solely is on a proper 24-hour cycle. ✘ there is a large tree erected in hanami recital and multiple boxes of decorations can be found by a few picnic tables along with all the materials and fabric needed to make your own. the tree already has lights on it, but is otherwise bare. you wont find anything remotely religious in the boxes however, so no angels nor crosses -- mostly things like poinsettas, stars, and other traditional ornaments. ✘ it’s snowing throughout the duration of the festival as well. the royal family is kept warm thanks to kagerou, but all snakes outside of it may feel themselves slipping into brumation because of the temperature, making them lazy and otherwise overly relaxed. the snow does stick to the ground except for on the walkways of invidia, so by the 21st there will be at least over a foot high of snow -- perfect for snowball fights or building snowmen! ✘ there’s a large feast of meats, fruits, and desserts galore with no strings attached -- but... huh, where did seto’s cow go? ✘ finely aged wine is provided to everyone courtesy of Favoring Eyes -- but any muses under the age of 15 can’t have more than a half glass. ✘ at 3PM EST there will be a three kings (secret santa) event, so feel free to either send an ask or message a mod on the discord what gift your muse wants to throw into the “pot” so that we can randomly generate who gets what gift. even the snake NPCs can join in! ✘ from 5:00PM EST through 12:00AM EST there will be a dance! it’ll be in hanami recital with a live band of snake npcs playing songs in the style of Hadestown. ✘ your muse is provided with traditional clothes to wear for the duration of the festival upon entry into invidia -- so you can choose what outfit they get, but just make sure it’s either MEDIEVAL or GREEK in design! ✘ gattaisareru and saeru seem unrecognizable -- they’ve reverted to their true appearances just as yakitsukeru has and dressed for the occasion too! it’s almost jarring how amiable they’re being by taking part in the festivities, but you could almost aliken them to mirror images of persephone and hades judging by saeru’s horns and gattaisareru’s crown of pomegranate blooms. ✘ the fighting ring won't be up this weekend, so all asks are on hold until the following weekend! ✘ this is only part one of the festivities -- the second and main event will happen sometime on the 21st, however!

[dedicatedfollower467]

I finally came up with a name for a character I've been trying to name for weeks now, and as I was writing down his name and titles I magically also came up with a good portion of his culture's oral history, cosmology, and afterlife beliefs, and I just looked up and I've been working on this for like forty minutes lol

[meomaeru-blog]

@tsukaretahebi​     //      X

casually just gonna bounce on him.

get up get up get uuuuppp give her atteeeention.