#the queue's a sham!

[sweet-beezus]

Let's gooo, welcome back to another @khoc-week wahoo!!!

I'm so stoked to inhale more character lore, old and new, this year, and I can't WAIT to see what everyone has in store!!!

I'm bringing in a new OC this year for some more diverse flavor, so without further ado lets meet her!

Day 1 - Introduction

This is Myst! She is a Keyblade trainee studying under Master Lugh, and is working hard to someday earn the title of Master herself!

Her story takes place during Birth By Sleep, where she and Master Lugh travel between worlds fighting for balance and maintaining world order.

She is headstrong and dedicated to her craft, and is as well confident and slightly egotistical about her successes, but also harbors a soft spot for some of the people she meets along the way, including her fellow trainees and mentor.

She takes things head on and is fairly independent, especially in a time of crisis (which will certainly come, don't you worry).

She loves travelling and meeting new people despite the conflicting teachings of the other mentors, and finds so much enjoyment in discovering corners of the universe she never thought she would see!

That's all for day 1, I'm taking it easy this year so these posts will probably not be as meaty as last year's. I hope y'all enjoy anyway, see you on day 2!!

[fala-alfredo-pasta]

Hi 💥

AS HE SHOULD 😤💚

[shamrockaceart]

I sculpted this rounded blue octopus figurine using polymer clay and cocktail sticks/toothpicks and a craft knife. I originally posted it to Instagram on the 30th April 2016 and I've added watermarks where previously there weren't any.

[kiealer]

“I won’t go easy on you.”

training turned tension starters

❝Oh, really?❞

Her tone alone begets a challenge, soon followed by a roll of her neck, various stretches and brief warmup movements. While training and sparring were not necessarily her forte by nature, she always found enjoyment in the activity -- particularly with Trunks. To say she could keep up with his utmost level of strength would likely be hyperbole, but to say she couldn't put up a fight would be equally unbefitting. It took little time for her to find her starting position, a few feet apart from her chosen partner. The stance itself is familiar, similar to the one who taught it to her. Meanwhile, her smile was bright, excited -- not arrogant, but confident.

❝You know that I never want you to. When we fight, you give me your all. Even if I can never catch up to you… I can at least try to keep up with you.❞

[yakam0z]

@adamanteine's shams ( accepting! ) ∘ ∘ ∘ ❝ you look like you've got something to say. ❞

avoiding her gaze works only for so long, and prevarications are difficult to cross the tongue. anouar turns to face shams, because showing her his backside for too long would be just as suspicious as his guilt-ridden face right now.

what does he want to say? where should he begin? their emotions' complexity rots away the edges of their void. there is no possibility of filling it. even if they knew all the words of every language on this planet. ❝ i am tired. disgusted by what i have become. i used to have control, be in charge of myself ─ but now... ❞ they are madness.

in isolation, he has to live for his entire existence. with no chance of parole. locked up like a violation of one's morals. if there was a way to live differently anouar might take it. at least give it a try. they think of their bees and how tight they grasp to life so they do not judge his. the hand caring for them is just that, a provider, an assisting tool.

❝ what does it matter? complaining won't change the fact that i'm a cannibalistic monster in this society. humour me with your idea of a fun distraction. ❞

[rebelquilled]

xayah is BEAUTIFUL this is a callout post for her being STUNNING but STABBY

[mythvoiced]

* 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒

RULES:  bold which thing your muse prefers (or, in some cases, maybe just hates the least!) out of each of the following pairs

peace or war?  /  sun or stars?  /  flowers or trees?  /  crescent moon or full moon?  /  streets or skyscrapers?  /  rooftops or balconies?  /  ink or glitter?  /  life or death?  /  order or chaos?  /   candle or bonfire?  /  ocean or sky?  /  leather or silk?  /  sweet or sour?  /  overstimulation or understimulation?  /  book or letter?  /  soft or coarse?  /  fight or flight?  /  spoken or written?  /  silver or gold?  /  playing cards or tarot cards?  /  circles or angles?  /  cramped or vast?  /  checkers or chess?

tagged by: @kamipyre I LOVE SUKI SO MUCH DMAMIT ty~ ♥ tagging: @astremourante @intergalacticxmisfits (Jenny~ ♥) @voxvulgi (JUDE~) @theimpalpable (Sigye ;3) @wellfell @riiese (Ingvar~) @uroborosymphony (CALISTA!!!!) @velvetineblue @rippleofwords & YOU ♥

[the-prophecy]

Ok bye <3

[bloodcrave]

alina, my queen, i’m sorry i’ve been awol on your blog, i’m sorry all your drafts are a month old or older right now alds;fja

[sweet-beezus]

It's a certain lil' man's bday today...

[tidesfate]

THE INEVITABLE KNOWER HAD MADE ITS PRESENCE EVIDENT BEFORE HER TIME AND TIME AGAIN. Animals preferred presentation, as was before and as is in this moment in the shape of a bird. What once feathers of BROWN AND PATTERN, now pitch and mistakable for a corvid dipped in ink. Eyes vivid, pallid yellow gems // GLOWING IMPOSSIBLY AND ATTENTIVE UNMISTAKABLY. It perches atop a pillar, beak dripping reminders of its presence atop its design as it speaks. “&– - I know who you are, and for this I shall not pretend you are a fool that you are not. What I can offer will only hold bare similarities to what you once had, but the candle illuminated will alight different paths.” Head cants along its sockets, talons beginning to scratch silently a shape into stone. “&– - Those born with the magic that leaks from my realm, and those students I tutor, have below their palms the options to undo.... or redo. Bend, amend, or snap. You witness first hand the potency of even this.... fraction of a whole.” // @adamanteine sent for 🐙 an Verse Starter

[shamrockaceart]

I sculpted this spherical red octopus figurine using the polymer clay and tools (a cocktail stick/toothpick and craft knife) in the photo. I originally posted it to Instagram on the 30th April 2016. Watermarks have been added where previously there were none.

[ynwa4eva]

Ive never been more bored in my life.... is this how parents feel?

[greenelight]

it   has   become   part   of   his   nature   to   be   defensive   whenever   he   is   approached   willingly   ,   but   that   never   used to be   the   case   many   years   ago.   there   was   a   time   when   mason   recalls   being   a   much   more   pleasant   man   ━━   a   man   with   rosy   cheeks   &   prosperous   future   ahead   of   him   ,   filled   with   scribbled   bits   of   sheet   music   &   thunderous   applause in opera houses.   he   would   have   lived   &   died   full   of   happiness   if   the   powers   that   be   allowed   ,   but   he   was   forced   to   be   cursed   &   live   a   long   , endless life   that   is   dark   &   disturbed   ,   his   need   to   feed   &   drink   the blood of others   forever   a   hideous   trait   he   has   no   choice   but   to   accept.   once   he   became   a   monster   ,   the   darkness   swallowed   him   whole   ,   leaving   behind   the   shell   of   a   man   he   once   used   to   be   &   never   would   be   again.   gone   are   the   days   of   song   &   music ,   of   opera   &   beauty.   now   his   days   are   filled   nothing   with   darkness   &   decay   ,   therefore   why   would   he   ever   drag   any   poor   soul   to   wallow   in   his   sadness   with   him   ?   he   needn't   any   pity   or   risk   a   poor   human's   life   if   his   hunger   grows   uncontrollable.   mason   may   not   harm   any   humans   as   best   as   he   can   ,   but   he   won't   mingle   with   any   either   ,   regardless   of   their   questions   or   constant   badgering.   but   shams   isn't   human   ,   now   is   she   ?   mason   is   aware   of   her   ability   ,   of her duty   ,   but   there   is   something   about   her   that   is   different   from   others   who   hold   holy   power.   she   lingers   closer   to   him   &   he   damn   near   flinches   as   if   he   were   in   pain from the closeness.   even   when   the   vampire   makes   his   disdain   for   her   known   ,   he   cannot   deny   her   beauty   &   strength   ━━   the   closest   to   reaching   the   sun   he   will   ever   accomplish.

❝   you   don't   believe   it   was   me   ?   ❞   the   query   comes   out   more   confused than   he   intended   ,   realizing   his   mask   slipped   slightly from disbelief.   the   vampire   does   his   best   to   keep   his   aloof   nature   intact before   her   ,   but   it's   fairly   clear   he   is   not   truthful   when   it   comes   to   his   rudeness.   he   merely   appears   this   way   so   that   he   can   be   left   alone   to   his   own   devices   ━━   that's   all.   however   ,   unfortunately   for   the   vampire   ,   shams   azari   is   not   one   who   can   be   easily   deterred   by   admittedly   terrible   acting.   mason   clears   his   throat   ,   an   attempt   at   a   recovery   ,   which   soon   follows   by   a   crack   in   his   voice.   pathetic.   ❝   i   understand   you   are   good   of   heart   &   want   to   help   others.   how   kind   of   you   &   how   grand   it   must   be   to   still   have   a   heart   that   beats for others.   ❞   arms   cross   ,   leaning   against   the   wall   as   he   keeps   a   distance   from   her   ,   still   unsure   where   this   conversation   where   lead.   there   is   no   telling   if   shams  is being   honest   or   if   this   is   all   a   ploy   to   capture   &   torture   him.   mason   knows   it   would   be   better   if   he   ran   right   now   &   hid   away   in   darkness   once   again   ,   but   a   part   of   him   ,   the   former   human   part   ,   cannot   hide   his   unending   curiosity.   ❝   what   sort   of   question   do   you   have   for   me   ?   ❞   he   pauses   ,   then   ,   quickly   follows   that   question   up   with   another.   ❝   &   what   will   you   give   me   if   i   assist   you   ?   ❞

it used to be that there was only one emotion she knew like the back of her hand. it ate at her like a beast starved for centuries, sat heavy on her stomach, leading her to where she is now. she wasn’t born with this, no, she was born in the afternoon. the air was brisk and the sun was setting by the time her mother held her. she knew, from the moment she thought of it, the anger she held wasn’t always hers.  she'd picked up pieces as she grew up, borrowed the parts of her mother she tried to shield her from, absorbed the fights of the families nearby, seen by the way her father carried himself. she collected it all like a pastime, like stones she’d hold in her pocket, save for a collection to admire later. except every stone burned with the scorn of who she had stolen it from. and shams quickly learned what that molten really was.  and then she was fed it, introduced to its existence by everyone around her, who listened to her as if she was singing some lullaby. and when she grew up, her anger began to define her— defined her for centuries. it was a simple truth: she was not merely helping people. she was carrying their sorrow and grief with her and she cannot simply let it go.

the responsibility that was placed upon her by the traditions of her kind slowly turned into something more useful to her, as she has made it out to be. this one was warm and gentle. it relaxed her muscles and made her heart sing. and somehow it always managed to repeat one thing: you have to keep helping them. and her inner thoughts and the way she acted towards them always radiates off her in waves, making her appear like a second sun. she stands here now, taking a look at him. she notes the tone of his voice and the way he speaks the words and notes how familiar they sound to her. she, however, remains calm and collected, only giving him a smile. `` mister greene, i must remind you that this is simply my duty. `` and it always will be. while the traditions of official titles had been long forgotten between the reera, she is still one of the leaders of the zaran sect and it is her duty to protect the people she leads. she was driven by it, after all. by a devotion to her people that made her motivated, a devotion that left her both protected and in danger. she takes in the scene before her as she steps closer. `` i only came to ask a question. there is truly no need for any defensiveness. `` a pause. `` i don't quite believe it was you. ``

[mythvoiced]

(but wait, I also have a whipped dragon too I'M; ALSO FEEL FREE to do anything you wish with this IWHEDIHED ♥︎♥︎♥︎) There he goes, this azure dragon taking a soft hold of Hyun's face. The softest he can, despite calloused hands. "Here you are." He says with the brightest of smiles, one palm moving as to caress the side of their face, fingertips sliding up, getting to brush part of their hair. "The most beautiful being I've ever seen." And he leans in, pressing several kisses to their cheek; almost in a playful tempo. "Gorgeous Ruby and Onyx." Voice turns even more dulcet before kissing cheek again, this kiss being more tender than the others; lingering.

@theimpalpable | oh GOSh the inventors of Love-

---

It's difficult for themself, sometimes, remembering where they are.

The room looks familiar enough, warm and cozy, permeated by the familiar scent of rain and warmth, or safety, in other words, in the embrace of scales and hands seemingly designed to make them feel like the world might just be that good a place they'd originally thought it to be.

But love doesn't get rid of scars or reprogram a brain to forget its carved instincts to keep itself and its attached body safe. As much as Hyun wants it to, Boram can't chase all the ghosts away.

No, that's... a bad way to phrase it. Hyun doesn't want Boram to chase their ghosts away, that's not a responsibility that should be placed upon him, not when they keep their heart so very safe already, not when they genuinely already do more for them during those days than they'd sometimes cared to put in the effort to do for themself - the really bad ones, where 'fuck it' was just easier than the exhausting feat of looking after themself.

But Hyun would like to be... better in a way good enough that Boram won't ever have to worry about the potentials of the thought of... well, does it mean anything when not even Boram can make the really bad... better?

And then he flies right in again, their rainy prince, as if he'd developed a sixth sense for when Hyun's 'bad' had unfortunately dipped its toes into Boram-related insecurities.

They're detestable.

There are so little things in life they're less certain of than they are Boram. Loving Boram is a certainty that lacks words, no amount of their language developing ever since they first met has come with new ways to better describe what it is like for Hyun to love Boram.

Boram is as good to him as air is, except even air can be too much if arranged wrong - been reading some science texts, huh? Even too much oxygen can kill, there's never 'too much' Boram in Hyun's life.

Detestable, and an easy way to slip into another rabbit hole.

And then...

And then...

And then suddenly Hyun is being asked to pay attention to their lighthouse and anchor, to the one thing they can be certain of, no matter whether they should be allowed to love this much or not. Their beautiful, kind dragon, who creates an empire and uses the money to make gardens, who still knows them after centuries, who looks at them and the past they shared and finds it in himself to love them anyway, no matter what might have tied them together at first.

Hyun succumbs to the hands on their face. It's easy to relax into them, a natural, instant response, slumping into something safe and comfortable. They feel like they might look a little silly, unaware of how fragile their features have become, that little twitch that had moved from wide-eyed intrigue to something small and sad, before the sense of belonging had overtaken their face and painted a soft sigh into it instead.

The kisses make them smile, and even that is slightly wounded at the corners.

The pet name, the wordy compliment in colours, makes them giggle. Their cheeks are already rosy under Boram's lips, they're half tempted to half-heartedly smack them for making them any redder. They could forego pinching them for a blush effect at this point.

Their eyes flutter shut at the last kiss.

It's more than even Boram might be able to put into words, what that kiss means, how it both makes them shatter in Boram's hands, and puts them back together in a way that makes sense.

They open their eyes again with a soft prayer sent to the Heavens that they may get to keep this a little longer.

No matter what.

There's nothing they wouldn't do for their prince.

"Here I am," they whisper back, placing one hand on the back of one of Boram's. If poets could see the look in Hyun's eyes as they meet Boram's, would they find the words?

"I mean, I think I am," they add, more cheekily, "you can kiss again to make sure, though, if you'd rather~"

[sweet-beezus]

Puxos

A rogue with a strange plan up his sleeves, however vague that plan may be. Despite his lone wolf vibe, he does, in fact, have a partner in crime that he may ever so slightly adore.