#srcellerie

[knightsdeath]

early morning sunlight drifts into their room along with the sound of birdsong. a tray of breakfast food & a glass of almyran pine tea settles in her hands, & on her lips is her own turn "happy birthday to you / happy birthday to you / happy birthday dear felix~ / happy birthday to you". she carefully sets the tray away & sits beside him, leaning down to press a kiss to his cheek, "wakey wakey sleepyhead, or you'll miss all the smoked meats & presents!" then another kiss & another & another——!!

AND HERE IS A SCENE OF PEACE : a man ( no weapon no blade no fired arrow at all ) lying in bed, drifting in a strange liminal space in between / half roused and still yet unwilling to rise if only for her sake and little else. felix is a man of action and furthermore a man of early mornings and waking long before dawn if he sleeps at all but today he allows himself to lounge in bed, cozy beneath the covers and his face pressed into the pillows to block out light and suspend himself in a state of near sleep.

annette had woken him ( in truth she would be hard pressed not to given his propensity to light sleep and furthermore his inability to stay asleep besides / even if we were to ignore the factor that is her inherent clumsiness even in the setting of their own bedroom ) when she had gotten up and, apparently, attempted to sneak from their bed in order to do whatever it is she wishes to make of his birthday morning. it had occurred to him, as it is wont to do, to get out of bed also but ———

this is hardly the first birthday of his that they had celebrated together, and while felix isn’t one for sodden, saccharine shows of affection, particularly on his birthday of all days, annette enjoys them and. well. allowing her this is no great chore nor stress on his own shoulders and instead : he listens to her move around their home as the sounds of her footsteps and her quiet hums and the rattle of things in their kitchen melt into the sounds of early morning.

light slants its way across his face as she enters / their windows face east and thus the sun greets them well and early and he’s pulled from his drowse as the smell of breakfast and furthermore the sound of her voice ( a voice that he knows and a voice that he, yes, loves and a voice that he dreams of and a voice that he thinks of fondly when they’re apart and this song is simple and this song is a birthday song and he cares little for the supposed sanctity of this day but he cares for HER and thus something within his chest / thaws ) and his eyes begin to open as she presses the first kiss to his cheek and he can’t help but smile.

and then there’s another kiss and another and another and he almost wants to laugh for all that he doesn’t, quite, as he turns onto his back and pushes himself to sit up and his nose rubs against her cheek and she’s ——— all but luminous in the early morning light. ( now that is a disgustingly rosy thought, for all that it’s true )

❝ you’re going to spill the food, ❞ amusement cuts through the dry tone of the statement as he, gently, pulls the tray from her hands and turns to set it beside him on the bed and they’re pressed close enough together that his shoulder presses against her with the movement and when he turns back he finds himself wanting to kiss her, properly.

so he does.

her face is soft beneath the calloused touch of his palm and he tilts his head to slant their mouths together and the touch is chaste as anything and sweet as honey ——— sweet enough to make his teeth ache and something else in his chest begins to unfurl, as it often does with her. as it frequently does in her presence. as it is wont to do, when she smiles at him that way with those eyes and that voice, carrying.

felix kisses her once ——— twice ——— thrice. gentle things and adoring things and things which he would have never thought himself truly possible of / but then : she inspires in him something not quite changed from his baseline, but something that had been long forgotten. something quieter and more given to emotion. the boy who once cried and laughed and smiled without thought nor hesitation nor abandon. that boy, not dead, but buried still : held in the siren’s hands.

❝ thank you, ❞ he says against her mouth and he brushes his thumb against her chin gently before pulling back and turning to the tray and it occurs to him that he’s ( … ) happy. the war-torn boy and the war-like man, HAPPY. and at peace. at peace, for now, but at peace all the same and there is no restlessness and there is no frenetic energy tangling and raging beneath his skin / even if just for these moments. even if just with her.

he picks up the tea cup and / tosses her an apple from the tray ( never mind the intention of birthday breakfast, anyways ) and / takes a sip and, ❝ sing for me again, annette? ❞

what else could he want, after all?

@srcellerie / @jeurol // happy birthday felix ♥

[timecall]

@srcellerie replied to your post: my mood is ping ponging back and forth with this...

sh….. show us the boy in the dancer attire…… p l z

this is the life i live now, also i’m sure @gasbardian also appreciates this lad 

[antibadnik-a]

animorphs sucks you absolute plebian. you utter fool. i cannot believe you right now. unplug your router. [anonymous]

i guess ive been had.....time to delete

[nakotnes]

srcellerie

  sometimes  u  need  a  reminder  that  silver ...

……………gives him another

four  swords.

[emblcmatique]

srcellerie a réagi à votre billet : //since everyone’s doing it!!! munday picture...

I’m So Mad

//i’m sorry, would you forgive me with a song?

[introverdt]

‘ sometimes, you’ll find it hard to keep going, but you always will. ’

⁺  ›   LIGHT   or   DARK .     /    ❛  ——  @srcellerie​​ .   /    not accepting atm .

 OH  ,   IT  WAS  THE  TRUTH .  ONE  THAT  SHE’S  IGNORED  FOR  YEARS  ,    a  thought  that  weighed  heavier  and  tiresome  the  more  time  passed .  an  yearning  to  run  and  hide .  saltwater dreams ,  scabs  on  her  knees ,  a  sink  full  of  lemons ,  muted  screams ,  strapped  to  a  wooden  chair .   /    she  never  understood  those  kinds  of  words —- it  felt  like  she  speaking  in  only  abstract .  a  foreign  concept .  unfamiliar  to  her  ears .  was  this  encouragement ?  it  whispered  back  in  newly  rosé - stuffed  ears ;  a  lack  of  words  formed  and  collapsed .           ❛   m-maybe …   ❟

  the  words  repeat  like  a  broken  record  breaking  frost  with  her  warm  breath .  speaking  in  half - wrought  replies  in  fragile  future  tense .  oh ,  the  delight  of  feeling  petals  in  annette’s  words  like  a  newfound  spring    /    feeling  a  CHANCE  at  granting  her  conviction .  under  those  petals  that  haunted  her  with  the  dance  of  april  mornings ,  singing ,  to  resting  on  her  windowsills .   giving  up  their  song  /   to  teaching  her  how  to  sing  it   /    charming  her  to  shut  her  eyelids   /     how  to  leave  her  in  a  sleep - like  trance .   a  dance  of  fortitude .

    it  was  times  like  this  where  bernadetta  oft  wondered  if  she  lived  under  the  same  skies  as  everyone  else .  to  look  up  seeing  the  hours  stellated ,  minutes  anatomized  as  her  rainy  skies  and  thunder  shakes  in  her  blood  /   lightning  strikes  making  her  blood  glass .  the  kind  of  glass  that  would  shake  and  rattle  but  never  break .  

  bad  habits  lay  to  waste .   of  holding  her  breath ,  beneath  blue  moonlight  and  it  makes  no  sounds ,  or  promises .  a  pause .  a  daring  action  to  take ;  she  lets  a  syllable  hums  on  her  lips .  scared  that  she’d  make  no  sound  /   it  echoes  in  her  ears .   her  thoughts ;  no  longer  muted  over  the  rain .  it  dies down , sopping  goodbyes ;  feeling  the wind  under  her  skin  like  a  second  pulse .  —  closed  mouths  to  fumble  for  words  while ,  she  stays .  yesterday’s  dust  falls  out  of  the  sky  as  silver  on  her  eyelids :  blink it away  or  don’t/undo  the  silence  or  don’t/hold  your  breath  or don’t .  this  is  where  she  makes  it .      ❛ ——- i … i  never  had  the  confidence  to  believe  i’m  just  pushing  through  these  times .  the  only  thing  that  keeps  me  alive  is  simple :    i  want  is  to  feel  safe .  to  feel  loved .   to  just   FEEL  SOMETHING  REAL .   ❟       ————   making  sparks  of  bravery  /   it’s  do  or  die ,  kid .

[arydbhar]

*   /    𝐈𝐃𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐈𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐆𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐎𝐍𝐄?   ( @srcellerie​ )

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐅𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 annette would probably think he didn’t hear her, but worry not, he did and it was loud and clear but ... the lack of care for her words was more obvious than anything. his eyebrows furrowing when he noticed that she remained there, as if she expected something from him, anything please, just say something, it read. and he hated it. for it was all wasted breath.   ❛   just as you were back then. i am sick of it.  ❜  he finally speaks, uncrossing his arms, his stance seemed about ready to force her out of his sight if she did not abide. and .... quickly,     ❛   LEAVE. the dimitri you fought alongside is dead, annette, we will never relieve those days again.   ❜

[serviir-blog]

“Get some sleep.”

( 2-3 Word Sentence Meme | @srcellerie​ )

     HE WAS EXHAUSTED. taking on the work of one extra kid when they were sick or away was common for cyril–––– he hardly trusted the other kids to do their own work, let alone someone else’s too–––– but he’d volunteered to do the work for two this particular day, and the strain on the boy was absolutely visible. 

     a part of him had expected to continue through the day without rest, but annette  had put a stop to that quickly. his usual fire to fix and clean to perfection was quenched, overwhelmed by the waves of exhaustion that seemed to attack him in every direction. surely, no one would mind if he took a short break, would they?

     he just had to make sure he got everything finished later.

     he practically fell into the seat at the table instead of lowering himself down. his arms served as a comfortable pillow to rest his head on, and it was clear almost immediately that he wouldn’t be able to keep himself awake for even a few moments more.

     ❝ don’t let me sleep too long. i still have work to do. ❞

     the words were much less harsh interrupted by a yawn, and spoken by a boy who seemed less like a stern worker and more like a child in need of rest in that moment.

    ❝ don’t forget, okay? ❞

     he was asleep before she could answer.

[lysiluna]

❛ i’m the problem . and there’s nothing i can do about it . ❜

    ⋆ Enough, already. If you have decided that you are indeed the problem, that would render your latter complaint utterly baseless. You being the root of the problem means you have all of the control. ⋆ Returning her books to the desk with a gentle thump, her small lips lets slip a subtle sigh. With short strides, the girl approached to stand of swords, weilding it in one weak and shaky hand. After a few sloppy, yet practiced swings, she restored the empty slot. Slowly, she brought herself closer to the student, and held out her arm as it trembled at the wrist.     ⋆ These arms are not meant to withstand the weight of a blade. When I hear mention of the sword curriculum, a small part of me dies on the inside. I dread it, and with every swing I begin to feel embarrassingly disadvantaged. My body is weak. It is my body which holds me back. I too, am the problem. Yet... ⋆ Lilac eyes remained in contact as she backpedaled slowly to the rack of swords, before letting the metal sing against it's container as she drew the same sword. Struggling to hold the steel tooth steady, Lysithea raised her weapon and widened her stance. Shoulders turned slightly, her blade seizing with her attempt to steady it perpendicular. A sharp, yet extended breath filled the young girl's chest. There, the air was held. One moment. Another. The sword continued to shake. Again, a moment passed. Before -- E x h a l a t i o n.    Her wrists stopped shaking, the blade became still. Her normally poor stance, seemed to strengthen. It was soon that a faint glow, noticeable to only those well versed in magic, began to warmly exude from the weapon. ⋆ There is something I can do about it. ⋆ Grunting, she allowed her focus to disperse, dropping the sword as she fell to her knees. Conscious, but dripping in sweat, she spoke through exhausted breaths. ⋆ It is not always easy, and the solution may not be a known one -- but I want to believe -- that we can solve whatever we blame ourselves for... ⋆

[thunderbranded]

💛💛💛 !!

platonic / @srcellerie / meme

g0d  …  i  love  annette  …  and  i  love  …  that  you’re  writing  her  … WEEPS!  in  any  case,  having  a  platonic  relationship  /  friendship  would  be  so  cute!  i  imagine  at  first  the  relationship  would  start  simply  because  annette  wanted  to  know  more  about  gilbert,  and  although  only  being  in  B  support  with  him,  i  imagine  catherine  knew  him  from  some  time!  (at  least  even  when  she  was  still  nobility!)  so  she’d  have  a  lot  to  say,  and  a  lot  TO  ANSWER  …  im  sure  catherine  would  dodge  SOME  truths,  since  his  past  overlaps  with  hers  …  (sorry  annette),  but  she’d  probably  at  least  push  annette  to  come  into  terms  /  sort  of  mend  the  bridge  between  her  and  her  father  for  better  for  worse.�� maybe  give  some  perspective  on  why  gilbert  did  what  he  did?  either  way,  she’s  Baby  and  catherine  would  be  protective  over  her  ally’s  kid  for  sure  …  lets  figure  out  a  thread!

[knightsdeath]

🤝 + 21 (in a rush of adrenaline)

some could argue that there’s a certain level of COGNITIVE DISSONANCE to him. some could further argue that there’s a point of no return ———— this drive to fight and this motivation to battle and better himself can only be curbed by the deeper wish to help the innocent and protect those he loves so much. some could furthermore drag into light that the steadiness of him in battle is perhaps more terrifying than the total loss of control ( to which he would staunchly disagree, for good reason ) and if they were to peer into his mind and his innermost thoughts during these times ————

he doesn’t know when it began. when he began to hear her voice, carrying and high and light and clear as sunlight stretching over an early spring morning, radiant over the frost ridden grass. it’s rather silly, in the end. when her songs pop into his head at the strangest of times. in his sleep ( her song the cries of war and her voice a siren’s song bringing those to slaughter and to the killing floor and to their deaths by his hand / or his hand / or another’s hand ) and in battle and in the small spaces in between.

he doesn’t know when it began. he can’t begin to pinpoint when he started to hear her voice outside of hearing her and seeing her in those strange and random occurrences where he would simply stumble across her and there she would be : singing and dancing with her energy radiating and light sloughing off of her in layers upon layers upon layers.

does it begin with death? does it begin with disassociation? does it begin with the perils of mortality? or does it simply begin with her and how she lingers in his thoughts every now and then without so much as a by your leave on his part?

( it could well be curiosity, as well. the oddity of them and the strangeness of them and the stories that they tell and how he cannot begin to piece together what she’s trying to tell him, which may well be THE POINT, though he’s of a mind that a song is meant to tell a story and tell it wholly and fully, but. i digress. )

speaking and wondering and questioning in circles. shall we start again?

THERE’S HER VOICE AGAIN / the clarity of the early morning sun / as the final enemy falls at the other end of his blade. a flash and then a big boom ———— he’s gotten separated from the others again, dragged away from the thick of it to a smaller throng of enemies which had seen it fit to not quite ambush him, though the idea was certainly there. dispatching them had proven to be simple enough and, from the sounds of it, the rest had been felled by the rest.

the preternatural silence of a battlefield quelled lingers over his head and he gazes up at the sky which is steadily going orange above them as he wipes his blade on his trousers, caring little for the smear of gore that’s left behind. he breathes ————

a flash and then a big boom, suddenly the deed is done !!

and twists as there’s a movement behind him and, ah. it seems he hadn’t fully finished the job, or otherwise this one had been good at PLAYING DEAD before he could do another pass over the enemy to ensure that they were all well and truly dead and saw it fit to act now, in this moment of garishly false peace. felix’s blade lifts and he’s ready to behead this man in one fell swoop / before there’s a burst of wind and / he’s torn to shreds.

blood splatters and felix’s hair is caught up in the brief wind storm, whipping around his face as he watches as the foolish bastard is summarily and quickly killed and / he knows without seeing and knows without knowing who had conjured this magic. the impression that she leaves and the energy that she resonates and the peculiar uptick of her wind magic ———— he knows it near as well as he knows her voice, humming through his mind / and there she is !! rushing towards him from over the small hill, looking no worse for wear aside from her hair being tousled and her customary braid being slightly undone / and something like relief unravels in his chest.

❝ you’re alive !! ❞ exuberant and overflowing with light and the sheer intensity that she carries, she closes the distances between them rather quickly / he takes no more than three steps towards her before she’s all but crashed into him, her hands grasping at his elbows and her feet skidding along the ground and she is / a clear spring day, after all.

❝ yes, ❞ a rather lackluster response, truly, though he responds to her primarily because he feels compelled to and furthermore because THIS IS ANNETTE and the remnants of battle remain on her ( her axe hanging from her belt, now, secured and tucked away / blood splattered over her clothing and a smear over her cheek / a jagged rip in her sleeve that may or may not be hiding an injury beneath it ) and within her, the adrenaline that thrums through his veins practically diminished in comparison to HER.

❝ you almost wouldn’t have been, ❞ and here she sounds aggrieved, frowning up at him as she so customarily does / the difference between their interactions and her interactions with the vast majority of their classmates had once been BEMUSING TO HIM if nothing else ———— but he’s grown predominantly used to it, by now. to the exasperation that she treats him with far more often than not. ❝ i can’t believe you got distracted on the battlefield, after all the grief that you give everyone else about it. ❞

❝ i know, ❞ felix is able to own up to his mistakes, if nothing else, though he knows it’ll do little to nothing in alleviating any of annette’s frustration with him / alight as she is / glowing as she is / all but vibrating still with the aftermath of battle.

( how muted she had been, appearing at those crossroads. changed by time and changed by circumstance and changed ———— she had been overbright, still. but somehow dampened / as if a cloud had drifted over her in its meandering path / but she burned, still. and burn she did. and burn she does : light leaking from every last one of her pores. too saccharine? too over-sweet? his teeth ache in her presence yet he wants to be close to her, still ———— and what does that meant, precisely?

oh, he knows. he knows. do you? )

❝ i was foolish, though i had the situation under control, ❞ he had, to be entirely fair. killing that final straggler would have been as easy as breathing. ❝ the enemy was a minor threat. ❞

❝ felix, you ———— ❞ irritation makes itself further known in her tone and the twist of her mouth and her hands tighten on his elbows / a silent demand to accompany her verbal one, before he cuts her off swiftly.

❝ but thank you, ❞ speaking over annette is no easy thing to do, but he wishes to make himself infinitely clear. at all times and at any time / but especially with her. annette, who’s alight and glowing and leaking light and luminous in the face of the sun about to set. has she always been this way? even back then? ❝ if you hadn’t intervened, i likely would have sustained an injury. ❞

a pause, before she squeezes him briefly, fingers firm along his bones. ❝ you’re welcome. just ———— listen to yourself for once and keep a look out. ❞

❝ i will, ❞ her voice in his head as quieted itself / as if in deference to the reality / as if knowing that she’s all the better to listen to properly and fully and with his absolute attention. looking at her. gazing at her / the fall of her hair around her face / and the furrow of her brow / and the set of her mouth / the blood on her cheek.

he wants to wipe it away.

he doesn’t. for now. for now.

@srcellerie​ // my mind is an echo chamber for you , for you —— touch.

[timecall]

BODY AESTHETICS.

Bold what applies. italicize what is verse-dependent and/or situational.

[ BODY ] Long legs. Short legs. Average legs. Slender thighs. Thick thighs. Toned thighs. Skinny arms. Soft arms. Toned arms. Toned stomach. Flat stomach. Flabby Stomach. Soft stomach. Six-pack. Beer belly. Child pudge. Lean frame. Beefy/muscular frame. Voluptuous frame. Petite frame. Lanky frame. Short nails. Long nails. Manicured nails. Dirty nails. Claws. Flat ass. Toned ass. Bubble butt. Small waist. Average waist. Thick waist. Narrow hips. Average hips. Wide hips. Big feet. Average feet. Small feet. Soft feet. Slender feet. Paws. Calloused hands. Soft hands. Big hands. Average hands. Small hands. Long fingers. Short fingers. Average fingers. Narrow shoulders. Broad shoulders. Average shoulders. Underweight. Average weight. Overweight. Big ears.

[ HEIGHT ] Shorter than 140 cm. 141 cm-150 cm. 151 cm to 160 cm. 161 cm to 170 cm. 171 cm to 180 cm. 181 cm to 190 cm. 191 cm to 2m. Taller than 2 m.

[ SKIN ] Pale. Rosy. Olive. Dark. Mutant. Tanned. Blotchy. Smooth. Moles. Acne. Dry. Greasy. Freckled. Scars. Birthmarks.

[ EYES ] Small. Large. Average. Grey. Brown. Blue. Teal. Violet. Pink. Red. Green. Gold. Hazel. Crimson. Doe-eyed. Almond. Close-set. Wide-set. Deep-set. Squinty. Monolid. Heavy eyelids. Upturned. Downturned.

[ HAIR ] Thin. Thick. Fine. Normal. Greasy. Dry. Soft. Shiny. Curly. Frizzy. Wild. Unruly. Straight. Smooth. Wavy. Floppy. Cropped. Pixie-cut. Afro. Mullet. Shoulder length. Back length. Waist length. Past hip-length. Buzz cut. Bald. Weave. Hair extensions. Jaw length. Layered. Mohawk. Pony Tail. Dreadlocks. Box braids. Faux locks. White. Platinum blonde. Golden blonde. Dirty blonde. Blonde. Strawberry Blonde. Ombre. Ash brown. Mouse brown. Chestnut brown. Golden brown. Chocolate brown. Dark brown. Jet black. Ginger. Red. Auburn. Blue-Green. Mint. Dyed. Forest Green. Mutant. Thin eyebrows. Average eyebrows.Thick eyebrows. Plucked eyebrows.

[ TATTOOS / PIERCINGS ] Full sleeve. Thigh tattoo. Neck tattoo. Chest tattoo. Back tattoo. Shoulder blade tattoo. One tattoo. Face tattoo. Hand tattoo. A few here and there. Multiple. No tattoos. Monroe piercing. Nose piercing. Septum. Nipple piercing(s). Genital piercing(s). Industrial piercings. Earlobe piercings. Prince Albert piercing. Eyebrow piercing(s). Tongue piercing(s). Lip piercing(s).Top of the ear. Tragus piercing. Angel bites. Labret. Stretched out ears. Navel piercing. Inverse navel piercing. Cheek piercing(s). Smiley. Nape piercing(s). No piercings.

[ COSMETICS ] Eyeliner. Light eyeliner. Heavy eyeliner. Cat eyes. Mascara. Fake eyelashes. Matte lipstick. Regular lipstick. Lipgloss. Red lips. Pink lips. Nude lips. Dark lips. Bronzer. Highlighter. Eyeshadow. Neutral eyeshadow. Smoky eyes. Colorful eyeshadow. Blush. Lipliner. Light contouring. Heavy contouring. Powder. Matte foundation. Shiny foundation. Concealer. Wears war paint from time to time. Wears make up regularly. Wears it from time to time. Rarely wears make-up.

[ SCENT ] Floral. Herbal. Earthy. Fruity. Perfumes. Aftershave. Cocoa. Moisturizer. Shampoo. Cigarettes. Leather. Fur. Sweat. Food. Incense. Marijuana. Cologne. Whiskey. Wine. Fried food. Blood. Fire. Cold. Fresh. Metal. Rain. Chemicals. Sea.

[ CLOTHES ] Jeans. Tight pants. Overknee socks. Tights. Leggings. Yoga pants. Pencil skirt. Tight skirt. Loose skirt. Tight/Form-fitting dress. Cardigans. Tunic. Blouse. Button up shirt. Band-T-shirt. Sports-T-shirt. Sweatpants. Tanktop. Cut off t-shirt. Designer. High street. Leather jacket. Thrift. Lingerie. Long skirt. Miniskirt. Maxidress. Sun dress. Tie + Tuxedo. Cocktail dress.  Uniform. High slit dress/skirt. T-shirt. Loose clothing. Tight clothing. Jean shorts. Sweater. Sweater vest. Waistcoat. Khaki pants. Suit. Hoodie. Harem pants. Basketball shorts. Boxers/Boxer-Briefs. Thong. Hotpants. Hipster panties. Bra. Sportsbra. Crop top. Corset. Ballerina skirt. Leotard. Polka dot. Stripes. Glitter. Cotton. Linen. Silk. Lace. Leather.  Velvet. Patterns. Florals. Neon colors. Pastels. Light colors. White. Black. Dark colours. Fur/Fauxfur. Revealing clothing. Heavy armor. Medium armor. Light Armor.  Magnificent hats. Helmet. Fingerless gloves.

[ SHOES ] Sneakers. Slip-ons. Flats. Slippers. Sandals. High heels. Kitten heels. Ankle boots. Combat boots. Knee-high. Platforms. Stripper heels. Bare feet. Loafers. Oxfords. Gladiator shoes. Leather boots.

TAGGED BY:  @leicestheir ilu gina TAGGING: @gasbardian, @knightsdeath, @heroichoice, @srcellerie, @laslow, and anyone else who wants to !!

[necrosin]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY @prsstrt / @srcellerie / @chaoslent !! aura, i’ve only known you for a short period of time but i would both die for you and tear the world asunder for you and i’m so happy to be so lucky to have you in my life. thank you for the good times and the fun conversations and the wild plotting and pulling me into a fandom simply by being you, and i hope that we get to make a lot more wonderful memories ♥

[chivalrykept]

@srcellerie || starter call

☾↣    “ a report, miss annette!” he waved at the young ginger girl to get her attention he had an important message for her.

       “ the professor asked me to give this to you - they had a meeting they couldn’t miss! i believe it may belong to you - did you lose it?” he asked, holding out a book from the school of sorcery. 

[introverdt]

aria as you know i know about next to nothing about bernadetta, but LORD your portrayal of her makes me want to know EVERYTHING. your writing is so brilliant & soft & i really am just the biggest fan of you & your bernie. i can't wait to learn more & to continue interacting with you. thank you for getting me excited about this sweet peach of a girl.

JUDGE ME PLEASE.

im begging u, please just love her, , , SHE WILL LOVE U IN DUE TIME BUT I PROMISE SHES THE BIGGEST SOFTIE AND SHE’LL KNIT ANNETTE SOME CUTE STUFFED BEARS AND ANYTHING SHE WANTS AAAAAAAAA listen ive said this like 20 times but im flustered and i feel like putty im meLTING

[arydbhar]

I LOVE YOUR DIMITRI I LOVE YOUR DIMITRI I LOVE YOUR DIMITRIIIIIIIII AHHHHH JUST,,,,,, I KNOW WE'VE DONE MOSTLY POST TIMESKIP STUFF BUT YOUR RECENT ASK HIT ME LIKE A TON OF BRICKS. YOU REALLY CAPTURE JUST HOW LIKE,,,,, BRASH & .... UTTERLY DEMOLISHED HE IS ABOUT EVERYTHING. WHICH IS TO SAY IN LAYMANS TERMS THAT I CAN REALLY HEAR HIS VOICE IN THE THINGS YOU WRITE FOR HIM. I'M A BIG FAN, I REALLY REALLY AM. HHH,,,,,