#ophelia dawn

[dawn-the-rithmatist]

Rereading the scholomance (yes again, shush) and I’m a bit obsessed with the differences between Ophelia Lake and Gwen Higgins. Strict malia vs strict mana. Lives in a luxury enclave apartment vs lives in a yurt in the middle of nowhere. The way that they raised their kids.

Mostly though it’s their worldview that hits me, because they’re DEAD OPPOSITES. We spend three books being told that Gwen gives as freely as a person can, even when logic says she could stand to take more in return, and when she’s in need she just kind of blindly trusts in the goodness of humanity and the universe at large. Even when summoning the sutras, it’s the same pattern! She didn’t name a price, trusting that the world would be kind enough when asking her to pay!

On the other hand, Ophelia is a full maleficer. She takes even when she absolutely doesn’t need to- she has New York’s mana supply at her fingertips and STILL drains the people in her lab every day. And when confronted with the horror of mals being made when people use malia, she defends it by saying that everyone uses malia anyway- she builds her life on the assumption that the world will be selfish in the end, the exact opposite of the way Gwen banks on it being kind.

I just think it’s so fascinating the way that these two women are foils, even as El is trying to set up her and Orion as the ones truly balancing each other out. Every time she says that she’s balancing out her mom’s goodness, I need to shake her because 1) honey you are every bit as good as your mom, you’re just angrier, and 2) OPHELIA is balancing out your mom, you just don’t get to know it until after you survive graduation!!!

[eeriemilyworlds]

[vxlturebones]

guys turns out getting a new oc that u think is so so beyond adorable can tickle the creative bones in ur body <3 ive decided to make Dawn and Ophelia a couple, and I can’t stop drawing them :3

heres a couple of doodles Ophelia and Dawn (plus Cad but only once shhh i love his big head) ughhh i can’t take it i love them so much

their couple name is Delia :)

[officialdaydreamer00]

OC LIST

🌑 IRENE LOVEJOY

(TWST OC — THE CHILD OF WISDOM)

"No offence, but I'd stab you with a butter knife. How, you ask? I just do."

🖋️ AEON HALLOWS

(TWST OC — THE CREATOR)

"Pray and repent, o wayward child."

💗 OPHELIA ANGELIS

(TWST OC — THE SEA ANGEL)

"Try not to lose your head~"

🐦‍⬛ ERIN

(RP CHARACTER — THE CHAOTIC AVIAN ARCHER)

"Bring it on."

🧨 LILITH

(OC — THE TRAUMATISED CHILD)

"Connection terminated. I'm sorry to interrupt you, Lilith, if you still even remember that name. But I'm afraid you've been misinformed."

"This misery ends here, for all of us. End communication."

💉 IRIS AMBROSE

(OC — THE LIVING DOLL)

"Like I've said, you don't touch my chemicals without consequences."

💫 ESTHER STARLING

(PJO OC — THE HUNTER OF ARTEMIS)

"DISHONOR! Dishonor on you, dishonor on your family, dishonor on your cow!"

⭐ STELLA DAWN

(OC — THE BRIGHTEST STAR)

"Heh... D'you think that you can kill me that easily?"

🪽 YULLIANNE BISHOP

(OC — THE ANGEL WHO SPEAKS NO EVIL)

「 Be not afraid, child. 」

🎖️ LILIA VON WILHEIM

(OC — THE SILVER BULLET OF RHINELAND)

"Checkmate."

[shiningdesignersreflections]

You Know Who Loves The Arts?

Queen Ophelia. You know who doesn't - or at least doesn't care enough to keep them around? The council in the Reflection for First Light of Dawn. Ophelia tries to change their mind about the arts festival. But can she save it in time?

And as we move into a new month, we'll be getting a visit from a moon goddess. Hope she and her bunny friend have a safe journey...

[slasherscream]

could the girlies send me thoughts to my inbox! give me little ideas... thoughts....tidbits... leave them at my feet so i can nibble them... let's discuss

[eritvita]

The white flowers of hells’ fire threaten to lap at the bottom of his eyes, but his face is overtaken by that low gloam of Ophelia, riddled like incense in the curl of her eyelashes, that downy, predatory expression that comes for him to sit within Roland’s belly. He places his freed palm o'er her own that sits upon his thigh, and rubs he his thumbs upon her knuckles. “Thus is entire to consume and to be consumed, precious, and difficult to displace whence fully within that Meadow. Art thou sure, for this kiss?”

made by @ramblingsofamoonwatcher ✨✨✨

[dusks-doodles]

Made a buncha’ icons for artfight!!!

Had a lot of fun doing everyone, especially since I’ve been doing some universe rewriting, so everyone say hello to Harper, Val, Dawn, Ophelia, and Lyn in that order!!

[ask-thedawnseekers]

🎁 @bitchofsteel

In the box is a power are, hand crafted by the mother primarch herself and a few dozen packages of homemade jerky of several varieties.

Under all of that is a note.

"Dear Freyja,

My daughter says she's looking forward to your next visit and that you should be expecting contact with the Silver Shanties here in the near future.

I'd keep my eyes peeled. Pirates are good at plundering, after all. And Ophelia is very fond of you.

Yours truly,

☀️"

@bitchofsteel

[blood-teeth]

"...and, at the end of it all, this is the truth of you. The truth of your ruinous, shaky hands. The truth of you whole, de-fleshed, flayed. Your bones are harbingers, your fingers methods of decay. You are the mouthpiece for death. You remember the Bhagavad Gita and I am become death, destroyer of worlds. Look at me, you say, I am Time itself, and I must one day destroy your world as I have always done. 

In the light of a long dead star, the last astronaut wakes up. After six decades, the worst has come to pass. The earth is dead, the sun has gone, and the mission to find a new, viable home has failed. There are no more horizons for humanity.

This Grave Calls You Home is a sci-fi thriller set in space after humanity is forced to leave Earth's ravaged surface following nuclear devastation and an environmental collapse. You play as an ER nurse aboard the NEW HORIZON, an immense space station courtesy of THE COALITION OF THE LAST FRONTIER. This colossal facility, a self-contained city in orbit, houses the remnants of humanity. And it is here that your days pass in monotony, caring for the irradiated people born from Earth and the critically ill, trying your best to survive the relentless demands of the Emergency Room and your own deteriorating mental health. When a patrol flagship discovers the ARCADIA-II - a long-forgotten relic from humanity's past - and finds within slumbers an astronaut who had failed at delivering humanity from destruction, the routine of your life is throughly interrupted. As the mystery of the ARCADIA-II and PROJECT ODYSSEY unfold, you learn that your part in this could mean humanity's salvation.

Or you could be its extinction.

YOU WILL LIKE THIS IF YOU LIKE: - INTERSTELLAR - THE LOCKED TOMB SERIES - BLADERUNNER - HEAVEN WILL BE MINE - TIME TRAVEL AND TIME LOOPS - GHOST STATION - ALIEN

THE LAST ASTRONAUT(M/F 25)- ALEX STERN "...my love, i no longer know what it is to be warm." The lone ranger, the last star. The failure of deliverance. Feel their breath against yours, cup their ribcage into your hands to feel the long, dead beat of their heart. You know them, you know them. You swear you do.

THE SCIENTIST (F 23) - OPHELIA VALDEZ "...in the wake of dawn," she says, "it has only ever been you." The General's daughter and the brightest mind the world has ever seen. You brush your fingers along the bone of her brow and marvel at her atoms meeting yours. maybe science is religion, you think. maybe you will bend and lick and worship her taste on your mouth.

THE ENGINEER (THEY/THEM 24) - PUCK GOODFELLOW "is that your real name?" "no," they smile. "nothing has ever been mine own. i belong to you. give me a new name. give me a new life. i am yours." The scent of engine oil and gritted teeth. Place your mouth against their neck and taste the blood of a covenant past. They hold you in their palms; you feel the promise of something greater, something before.

THE BOTANIST (M/F 25) - CAIA / CAIUS CAIN "i am no good at words. i'm good in the dirt and the roots and the trees. darling, you've been in everything i touch." the cool touch of water, liberation at their smile. Take the bite and know what it means to become. Dig your hands deep, deep in the earth and feel what it means to love.

THE MAJOR (TRANS M 27) - JONATHAN STERN "i have given my life to duty, to sacrifice, to obligation. i wish to give it to you, now, instead. it has been an honor serving you." A past marked by violence made by hands meant to touch. To soothe. He holds you tight against his chest and if you close your eyes you can still smell the smoke. He holds you like an apology. Like a prayer.

DEMO- PLAYLIST - FAQ

[duncan-tashi]

MOVIES VS PAINTINGS, Part I..

Moonrise Kingdom, Wes Anderson vs. To Prince Edward Island, Alex Colville.

Pennies From Heaven, Herbert Ross vs Nighthawks, Edward Hopper.

The Adventures Of Baron Munchausen, Terry Gilliam vs The Birth of Venus, Sandro Botticelli.

The Mill and the Cross, Lech Majewski vs The Procession to Calvary, Pieter Bruegel.

Psycho, Alfred Hitchcock vs House by the Railroad, Edward Hopper.

Nostalghia, Andréi Tarkovski vs Golconda, René Magritte.

Melancholia, Lars von Trier vs Ophelia, John Everett Millais.

There Will Be Blood, Paul Thomas Anderson vs Jeune Homme Nu Assis Au Bord De La Mer, Hippolyte Flandrin.

Carol, Todd Haynes vs Chop Suey, Edward Hopper.

The Cell, Tarsem Singh vs Dawn, Odd Nerdrum.

[rosieethor]

ace books ace books we got 'em

Beneath the Citadel by Destiny Soria

Beyond the Black Door by A.M. Strickland

Little Thieves by Margaret Owen

What We Devour by Linsey Miller

The Grimrose Girls by Laura Pohl

Elatsoe by Darcie Little Badger

This Dark Descent by Kalyn Josephson

The Kindred by Alechia Dow

The Reckless Kind by Carly Heath

The Final Curse of Ophelia Cray by Christine Calella

Silver in the Mist by Emily Victoria

Not Your Backup by C.B. Lee

The Bruising of Qilwa by Naseem Jamnia

Raybearer by Jordan Ifueko

The Circus Infinite by Khan Wong

Scavenge the Stars by Tara Sim

Love Letters for Joy by Melissa See

Summer Bird Blue by Akemi Dawn Bowman

The Charm Offensive by Alison Cochrun

Aces Wild by Amanda Dewitt

I Am Ace by Cody Daigle-Orians

ACE by Angela Chen

Refusing Compulsory Sexuality by Sherronda J Brown

Being Ace ed by Madeline Dyer

[battyaboutbooksreviews]

🖤🩶🤍💜 Happy Ace Week, Bookish Bats!

❓ What was the last book you read that featured asexual characters? If it's been a while, here are a few to consider adding to your TBR!

🖤 Aces Wild - Amanda Dewitt 🩶 Loveless - Alice Oseman 🤍 That Kind of Guy - Stephanie Archer 💜 We Awaken - Calista Lynne 🖤 The Kindred - Alechia Dow 🩶 Scavenge the Stars - Tara Sim 🤍 Fire Becomes Her - Rosiee Thor 💜 A Snake Falls to the Earth - Darcie Little Badger 🖤 Forward March - Skye Quinlan 🩶 The Romantic Agenda - Claire Kann 🤍 The Reckless Kind - Carly Heath 💜 Summer Bird Blue - Akemi Dawn Bowman

🖤 The Charm Offensive - Alison Cochrun 🩶 Meet Cute Diary - Emery Lee 🤍 Cupid Calling - Viano Oniomoh 💜 The Bruising of Qilwa - Naseem Jamnia 🖤 The Loudest Silence - Sydney Langford 🩶 Kiss Her Once for Me - Alison Cochrun 🤍 So Let Them Burn - Kamilah Cole 💜 Dear Wendy - Ann Zhao 🖤 Exes & Foes - Amanda Woody 🩶 The Final Curse of Ophelia Cray - Christine Calella 🤍 Firebreak - Nicole Kornher-Stace 💜 Never Been Kissed - Timothy Janovsky

🖤 Bury Your Gays - Chuck Tingle 🩶 Baker Thief - Claudie Arseneault 🤍 The Many Half-Lived Lives of Sam Sylvester - Maya MacGregor 💜 The Story of the Hundred Promises - Neil Cochrane 🖤 Adrift Starlight - Mindi Briar 🩶 Help Wanted - J. Emery 🤍 If You Still Recognize Me - Cynthia So 💜 Bad At Love - Gabriela Martins 🖤 The End Crowns All - Bea Fitzgerald 🩶 The Winter Knight - Jes Battis 🤍 The Meister of Decimen City - Brenna Raney 💜 It Sounds Like This - Anna Meriano

🖤 Fallen Thorns - Harvey Oliver Baxter 🩶 Don't Let the Forest In - C.G. Drews 🤍 Just Lizzie - Karen Wilfrid 💜 The Siren the Song and the Spy - Maggie Tokuda-Hall 🖤 Wren Martin Ruins It All - Amanda Dewitt 🩶 She Who Became the Sun - Shelley Parker-Chan 🤍 Poisoned Primrose - Dahlia Donovan 💜 How You Get the Girl - Anita Kelly 🖤 Lord of the Empty Isles by Jules Arbeaux 🩶 Moth to a Flame - Finn Longman 🤍 Little Thieves - Margaret Owen 💜 Someone You Can Build a Nest In - John Wiswell

[celestialprincesse]

𝟏. 𝐀 𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐇𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐞

Part One of Foreigner's God King Simon Riley X F! Faerie Reader

WC: 2k

Sunlight fractures through the leaves of age old oaks and ancient pines, dappling against your back, weaving through long strands of untamed hair to brush a kiss against your thinly clothed shoulders, spiders silk and gauze just barely fluttering on a phantom breeze stirred by the muted clopping of horse hooves on the forest floor. The mare beneath you holds tension in her withers, matching the unpleasant knotting of the muscle between your shoulder blades. She knows what’s coming just as well as you do. 

It’s been a long time since you’ve felt anxiety this way. It’s the kind of gnawing, unsettling feeling at the pit of your stomach that comes only from venturing away from the safety of the trees and caves, brooks and hollow roots you call home. Your people call home. You force yourself to swallow down the fear - remind yourself that you’re doing this for them. Without this sacrifice, your sacrifice, the woods and forests which serve as sanctuary for your entire species, would be gone. The sick feeling in your stomach refuses to be soothed. 

In an attempt to calm yourself, to tear your mind away from the images you’ve conjured of what may await you on the forest edge, you focus intently on every slow stride of your companion. You draw your thoughts to counting every rhythmic movement of her shoulders, the way they gently jostle your hips as you follow each motion of hers with one of your own. A push and pull of a gentle tide. She and you melt into one being, acting and reacting in such effortless synchrony, such enviable elegance. An innate ability for which your kind are revered. 

Humans long lost touch with nature - shunned it in favor of such rapid growth, such vast power. They burned the trees to make room for their sprawling palaces, dug up the earth and all of her riches to build their roads, to grow their crops, never once wondering what she could provide had they simply respected her instead. Your people had never done such a thing, and for that, you’d been blessed. She’d provided you with everything you could ever have needed, and all you’d ever had to do was provide for her in turn. That balance, that equilibrium, is what humans have long since forgotten. Compromise, to them, is an impossible thing. To you and your kind, it’s an intrinsic part of life. 

At this moment, you feel that perhaps you know compromise better than any. 

The journey so far has been painstakingly long. On the one hand, it’s something you feel grateful for, that you’ve time to prepare yourself for the life that lies beyond the treeline. On the other, however, it’s excruciating. To ride through the forest, down the path away from the only life you’ve ever known, to mourn something you’ve not yet even lost. Every blazing orange dusk is another grain of sand dripping through the fingers of time, and every golden lighted dawn a death knell. You wonder if your sisters miss you the way you miss them. Your mother, too. Maybe they sit in quiet solitude, wondering what you’re doing at any given moment, or maybe they cry tears of frustration and anger at the fact that it could’ve been anyone else. Anyone but you. 

The days before had been spent in a resigned sort of mourning. You’d saved your tears for the first days of your voyage. 

You still so vividly remember sitting with your mother as she twisted up your hair, pinning it with flowers as she reminisced upon the girl taken by the last king. She’d been only as old as your youngest sister, Ophelia, when it had happened. Once every generation, every two, if you were at all lucky. You, unfortunately, were not. She’d spoken of how silent everything fell when the girl had been sent away - the strange, pained feeling that had settled over your people as they’d watched her go resigned into the trees. She’d never come back, of course, a fate that you too share. The small hope flickering like a fading ember at the bottom of your heart sings songs of longing. Such a foolish thing it is, holding out that perhaps the man who waits beyond the woods will love you, guide you to him with coaxing words and the gentlest of touches. You feel pathetic even thinking of it. 

You never had quite outgrown your childish fantasies of love, and in turn, had given the humans holed up behind their cold stone walls another innocent heart to break. 

When the sun shrinks back to nothing but a hazy golden glow, like that of a dying fire or burning star, you realize that more for your horse’s sake than your own, that it’s time to stop, to rest before you carry on with your journey. A day or two more and you’ll have reached the place where the canopy dwindles and the roots which cover the forest floor grow sparse, travel under the earth as though to hide from the human feet which march upon them. You hope for at least one more blissful sleep under the stars, moss under your head and night creatures watching your rest with vigilant, unseeing eyes. 

Settling aside the small pond where your horse bends at her withers to drink, you lay up against the gnarled stump of a fallen tree, which yields to accommodate your body, just one of the many perks of being so connected with nature. You’ve no need to set up a campsite when the forest welcomes and provides for you with such ease. It’s not easy to forget the fact that the forest probably recognises the way you’re feeling - sympathizes with your predicament.

As you drift off into a fitful sleep, under the comforting twinkle of the stars, A king is waking.  Behind the fortified stone walls of the palace, the revelry celebrating the lead up to King Simon’s wedding has lasted for days. To most, it’s an opportunity to celebrate. Their cold, reclusive king finally taking a wife. When the betrothal had been announced, the sigh of relief collectively exhaled by the nation had been palpable. He hadn’t wanted to do it - marry some wild forest thing and rut her full of little fat wailing babies. Johnny had been the unfortunate soul tasked with convincing him - reminding him that since Tommy passed, so did the soul heir to the Riley line. With enemies poised in the south, ready to exploit any weakness they could find, Simon hadn’t exactly had much choice. His being backed into a corner, however, hasn’t made him the most pleasant to deal with during the preamble to his rapidly inbound nuptials. For not only his sake, but also everyone else’s, he hopes that his bride-to-be is at least reasonably tame. With his luck? Highly doubtful.

His closest men had shared their theories and fantasies of some nymph-like creature, lovely and demure, happy to bend to Simon’s every whim, less wife, more well trained pet. Whilst he can appreciate a beautiful woman just as much as any man can, he keeps his expectations low - pleasant to be around and a decent conversationalist is enough for him. 

He’s tried to expel the thoughts of marriage from his mind for as long as possible. He’s far too busy to be distracted with silly fantasies of rose petal decorated aisles and which rings he’ll select for his betrothed. Keeping a kingdom running and the vulture-like men that are his enemies at bay is no mindless thing. Simon barely has time enough to sleep, let alone celebrate a wedding he doesn’t want, nor to take the day-long trek to the agreed meeting place to collect his new wife. To collect his new wife. Parade her on horseback like some exotic acquisition to be flaunted, to grow bored with when the novelty inevitably wears off. 

It’s impossible to ignore the way his knees creak as he rolls tiredly from his bed, the fathomless cold embedded in the very core of the flagstone floors seeping into his bare feet as he dresses himself. In spite of his status as King, Simon keeps his appearance reasonably simple, his tunics plain and armor scarcely decorated. Easier to dress. Simon Riley is a man of convenience, the bells and whistles of being monarch are nothing but a hindrance. 

The celebrations have thankfully quieted, all of his courtiers and castle residents undoubtedly tired, hungover and sore from the days of singing, dancing and drinking - days which he’s mostly spent holed away in his study, playing chess with wooden carved soldiers on battle maps, giving the occasional go-ahead to wedding planners and burying his nose in any literature on strategy he can find.  Today, unfortunately, his kingly duties outweigh his reclusiveness. He’ll only travel with Price to the meeting point - having originally wanted to go alone so as to make your initial meeting less intimidating, a point to which the head of his Kingsguard had made his disagreement abundantly clear. Yes, Price knows that Simon is fully capable of looking out for himself, but he sure as hell isn’t giving him any chance of proving that. He’s also desperate to get out of the castle and away from the mothers attempting to shove their daughters at his feet. So, with huffed complaints about the weather, and the threat of oncoming rain, signaled by the gritty gray clouds blotting out the starlight, the two men set off. Hooves beat thunderously across stone, dirt and grass as they make their way past the walls of the city, through the dwindling suburbs of thatched roofs and smoking chimneys and out into the vast plains of the countryside. The fresh air is a welcome reprieve from the smoke and burning metal of forges, the grassy hills and fields stretching for miles a refreshing break from the towering monoliths of stone that make up the palace. He can see why people would like it out here, away from the banal chatter of gossip and the unrelenting noise, left to grow stagnant within the confines of winding alleys or houses packed so closely together. Simon hasn’t even met you, and yet he already finds himself sympathizing for the adjustment you’ll have to make. 

You, meanwhile, feel surprisingly more grounded following your nap, having allowed both yourself and your horse to rest for a while before continuing your journey. The gnawing anxiety in your stomach is soothed by the handful of blackberries you’d found and snacked on as you continued through the slowly more sparse woodland, and although you’re still wallowing, at least you’re not wallowing on an empty stomach and no sleep. 

The sun slowly inches west behind the cloud cover, which quickly replaces the forest canopy you’ve always known, and tells you that in your mental absence, another day has nearly come and gone, and with that, the mileage covered which draws you closer to your inevitable fate. The birdsong has long since gone quiet, and there’s no longer movement indicative of life in the shrubbery. Just you, and the parapet on which you seem to endlessly walk. 

Until the forest seems to stop entirely. The trees halt their growth at some invisible boundary, wildflowers cease their spread with an unnatural abruptness and your stomach goes lurching. Like you’ve jumped from a cliff. You’ve jumped from a cliff, you’re about to hit the ground, and everything in you is screaming for time to stop, for fate to twist, for the inevitable to be somehow avoided. 

You could turn back. You could still turn back, and the forest would welcome you home with open arms. You could go home to your sisters, to your mother and the magic woven into everything you’ve ever known.

You could turn back - but in turning back, you’d only shatter the fragile peace forged so weakly between your own people, and those who’ve come to take you away. 

“Looks petrified.” Price observes from where he and Simon stand proud upon the hill, watching as a faerie on a white horse comes emerging tentatively from the treeline. You do, you poor, delicate thing, Simon thinks to himself as he, Price, and their imposing black friesians make their way to greet you. 

Happy Foreigner's God day to those who celebrate 1.8k and 2k are basically the same so pls enjoy the 1st chapter 💕

[palladiumfragments]

a void in the shape of me

there i was, with a torn nightdress at midnight / ophelia in the river, catching glimpses of an endless twilight / i let the phantoms take hold of me, poisoned my thoughts / until the truth is whichever is worse / but in the middle of it all i knew / it will be my name you'd murmur, in the dark / when your hands are in her hair / you'll look into her eyes and for some reason it vexes you / that they don't resemble a rivulet of pitch black ink / you'd graze your lips on her neck  and you'd secretly wait for the faint smell / of vanilla and mocha that will never come. 

angelic she may look now but somehow it doesn't matter / you're too tangled and anchored to me / that your skin still longs for my touch / and when the labyrinth shifts again / she will only be a stranger / and you'd recall how my fingers / used to skillfully put the pieces back in their places / enchanted the forest may look now / but somehow you couldn't get lost in it / no matter how badly you want to forget / the trail signs will only remind you of the things / you've always loved about me / every bend on the road will resemble / the street of our first apartment.

go on, suffocate the haunting with cheap liquor / but darling at the bottom of every bottle / is the aperol spritz sunset from five years ago / seventeenth of february, when we were eighteen / soon the glamor will fade and her arms around you /  will feel like a rain-soaked pillory / you'd dream of me as she sleeps next to you / you'd see me in places we frequented / and in places i never go to / a superstar will play on the radio / and you couldn't help but think of me / and when the constellations in your head / start to make sense again / it will dawn on you that they have always spelled my name. 

[shiningdesignersreflections]

Ophelia: Poem of Light

Awakened Suit: Poem of Light

You can find the original suit here.