#this artwork will forever haunt me

[mojondert]

homestuck 2 panel redraw part 2!!

[miodiodavinci]

i saw that you used to hint at oc stuff on twitter (don't ask me why im digging im looking for zola stuff lmao) why don't you post more about them?

i am simply terrified that if i post oc things online someone will steal the concept and run with it faster and better than i ever could have and then i will be devastated forever and ever

more seriously i have very little to show for any of my oc things (adhd brain making life difficult as per usual awawawawawa) and every time i've shared oc things in the past i've ended up never following up on it and it makes me feel bad and guilty so i've just convinced myself i will Never talk about my ocs until i have something substantial i can put out there

[moe-broey]

GOD he might as well be wearing lingerie to the fucking battle field. Or leather gear. Either way HE'S A FUCKING WHORE‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️

[thequeenofhalloweentown]

My Spooky 👻 Halloweenie Pumpkins 🎃 For This Year

I Hope you all Like Love And Enjoy Them and Please Definitely Let Me Know Which One Is Your Most Favourite Mine is Definitely The Undertaker’s Iconic Symbol and The Ghost Face One Really Love That So Much But They Are All Good Very Spooktacular Indeed

As I Am Very Happy 😊 Pleased 😁 And Really Proud Of Them All As The Carving Pumpkin Queen Has Done It Once Again And Doing Six Of Them In One Day is Definitely A New High Score And Record For Me Since I Have Never Done Six Before In One Day

But There We Have It A New Pumpkin Carving Record For This Year Maybe Next Year it Could Be Seven Eight Or Even Ten or More Lol 😂

Anyways Take Care Now My Dear Beautiful Beloved Wonderful Friends And Family All The Spooky Halloweenie Lovers and Creatures of the Night Hope You All Enjoy The Rest Of Your Day Afternoon or Evening And I Will see you All Again Very Soon With More Spooky Halloweenie Post and Content As lots More Will be Coming Shortly Especially On All Hollows Eve

As I Can’t Wait For Thursday To Come Around As I Am so Very Excited To Celebrate My All Time Most Favourite Night Of Thr Entire Year as I Can’t Believe It’s Only This Thursday Coming as it Seems like Only Yesterday It was the very First of October And Now We Are So Close and Very Near To The End Which is always Little bit Sad for me since October is my all time most favourite month and I wish I Could Live It Forever but the Memories of it will forever Last In My Spooky Little Dark Heart and Soul So Will Halloween Because as I’ve Said so Many Times In The Past Halloween is Forever A Lifestyle As I Live It Love it Celebrate It Embraces it along with Breathe It All Throughout The Year No Matter What time Of the Year Month and Season it may be as it’s Forever Running Through My Very Veins Soul Blood and Heart

Anyways Take Good Great Care Now Everyone Hope You All Have A Very Spooky Spelltacular Haunting Wicked Awesome Halloween This Year and Enjoy Your Wonderful Lovely Day Tomorrow I Will See You All Again Real Soon Especially On Halloween 🎃👻😈Muahahahah!

Goodnight Sleep Tight Sweet Spooky Little Dreams To You All And I Hope That You All Will Rest in Peace And Thank You so Much For Supporting Me Here On My Halloweenie Blog And On My @thedarksideoftheundertaker Blog Really Appreciate All Your Super Incredible Support Love Kindness and Appreciation To Both Worlds And I Hope You Keep On Loving Them And Enjoying Them As Much As I Do Bye Now

😊😁☺️🥰😆😄👍🫶🖤🧡💜🩶❤️

🎃👻🪦🕯️🥀🦇🕷️🕸️🐈‍⬛⚱️⚰️🧛🏻‍♂️🧟‍♂️



[limitbreaker23]

It’s my Sunshot Campaign fic’s anniversary, Before the Sun Sets, so I’m suffering with feelings trapped on the battlefield that I need to ramble about. This beautiful Chengzhan Sunshot Campaign piece I commissioned from @rounove is too big for this site, but please look at a cropped version.

The full image in all its low-res beauty and me gushing about things below:

I always enjoy taking the opportunity to gush about all the details in artworks. Like, obviously I’m forever in love with my otp’s expressions here. Jiang Cheng’s cheek was cut in battle, narrow escape situation for our beloathed companions, and after they found the illusion of shelter, they can take care of any injuries. Lan Wangji is focused on this, completely, diligently, and wipes the blood away so carefully, leaning close. Jiang Cheng, sitting on this tree, sore and in pain, stares up at this unscathed, seemingly radiating face and appears to feel a different kind of ache. His expression murders me every time, he’s fighting a battle he’ll lose here, reaching up to cup Lan Wangji’s face with his bloodstained hand. AH! And what does Lan Wangji see and feel, with his eyes trapped on Jiang Cheng’s mouth, with his lips already parting, when he should take care of the wound? AH!

Jiang Cheng’s hand with Zidian on it already found a resting place on Lan Wangji’s thigh, a trail of blood left where it ran up from his knee. Steadying Lan Wangji as he leant in to look at the injury? Pulling, perhaps? All the white, so pristine robes draping over Jiang Cheng’s purple robes makes me feel all the things. Lan Wangji is a protective cloud brighter than anything in this moment. AH!

Their swords resting next to them, a mirror of their positions. Sometimes I just love to stare at the swords, all the details, the small, delicate patterns on the sheaths, the ruffled, soft looking tassels. Bichen would slip to the forest ground if Sandu weren’t steadily holding it up. And Sandu is safely shielded by Bichen. AH!

And the background! The rainy darkness that followed them to this spot to haunt or shield them, down a river that looks like spilled ink rippling the reflection of the trees. And this ancient, magnificent tree that keeps them dry from the rain with those thick leaves. AH!

I just love falling into this picture and thinking of how they ended up here. The pain, the suffering, the brushes of skin and fleeting touches that lead to them literally falling into each other’s warmth here. Now kiss!

[jazzy-art-time]

Thanks

CW: cooties

It’s that Turkey thanks day here where I’m at. So I figured I would be that cringe fucker who gets overly insightful on today for a change.

But I figured I would sit down and tap for a second for anyone who would glance over at me today.

This past year has been, a lot for me. Good n bad and stuff but.

I wanted to say thank you to my friends. My dear friends.

I don’t think I would be the man I am right now without you and your support.

Like literally, prolly wouldn’t have been Raymond without you. You helped me test out everything and become comfortable with becoming Raymond. I can never be thankful enough for that, I’m closer to who I am and want to be even. I cannot express my thanks enough for that.

You guys support my artwork and my characters so much. You guys let me yap for so long and you let me send so many paragraphs for hours about my shitty ass stories and OCs. You’ve listened to so much Jolene Bennet and Pinky BrainRot you deserve awards. It seems silly but it means a lot to me that you guys are willing to listen to me insanity. I’m not that interesting of a person, so my characters are all I’ve got going on, it just means a lot that you are willing to listen.

You have also had to bear witness to the Birth of Jarble as well as its continued development. Which is very special to me due to why I made Jarble to begin with. It means the world that I can feel comfortable sharing it, developing it, getting tips and bouncing ideas back and forth. Jarble went from a shitty AU I made to escape from everything into something I hold dear to me. It’s special now, it might have died out and fizzled. So thank you for helping me create something special. Also the fact that I’m willing to share my writings with you guys show how much I trust y’all, my writing sucks and you are the few who get to witness it. I will say however, fuck you for the sheer amount of Jeden emojis, he haunts me and you do this to me I’ll get you /silly

As well as you guys aren’t afraid to call me out on my shit. If I’m doing something wrong, if I’m being out of line or overreacting… you call me out. You come to me and talk and help me get better as a person.

You were in the trenches with me when I became a Aggressive, Distrustful person who snapped and was going crazy because I was being stalked. Helped me gain the courage to speak out when I got doxxed by Travis. Stuck with me when I had to change antipsychotic medications and I went absolutely batshit and had to go to the hospital. When I was stuck in bed for nearly two weeks because I was practically almost dying. You guys… for whatever reason. Stuck with me.

You didn’t have to stick around, I never would’ve judged you if you did. But you stuck around, you came to me and laid it all out on the table. You told me when I was being unreasonable or that I was hurting you with my actions. You helped me when you didn’t… really have to.

And you continue to help me, I’m a better person now and I know that. I don’t think I would’ve gotten as better as I am without you.

You support me, you help me when I’m lost or confused, you talk to me… you share Garfield things with me or if I’m upset you send a picture of your dogs or just.. you do so much for me.

I am forever thankful for everything. I’m not good at expressing emotions, I never have been. So perhaps it’s all just nonsense what I’m saying or maybe I’m repeating myself, I don’t know.

But thank you.

For everything.

I love you guys and I wish I could be better at explaining it… that way I’m not dropping a mile long scientific paragraph on you every few months

And a thank you for my Followers as well.

Which sounds like, cocky or something to say. I don’t know, feels weird standing here going “AND TO MY FOLLOWERS” but it’s hm.

ANYWAYS.

Thank you lot for sticking around!

Within the past year and a half I’ve… been different! I cut off all social stuff for the longest time and then went radio silent a lot posting wise. Almost all my blogs kinda went nonexistent. I deleted a lot.

And then I randomly went “hey guys look at this story I’m working on called Jarble. I will tell you absolutely nothing about it.”

But y’all still? Stuck around.

Which I know I’m just like, another guy on the dash posting stuff. So perhaps it isn’t that deep as I’m making it sound? I don’t know.

BUT REGARDLESS. You guys stuck around!

You guys watched as I went insane over a AU that I never said anything about. Which might’ve been annoying when you guys asked and I just never answered because I got self conscious lmaO. Yet you guys still showed interest and shared support!

When I decided to update my blogs again, welcomed me back and showed support when I expressed interest in doing stuff again.

Even welcomed me back when I decided to attempt to be social again and join discord servers! Which was… hard for me and a 1000% awkward! Cuz I went insane and then shuffled back like a fool. Yet! Here I am!

You guys keep supporting me, sending me asks and supporting me and my work despite it all

And I thank you for that! I appreciate it and it makes me feel special when you guys appear to show genuine interest in my dumb characters and stories…

I know I’m just another idiot on the feed, but it means a lot to me that you stick around and glance in my direction.

So all in all

Thank you guys.

To everyone.

End of cooties

Edit: also thanks to my fiancé I guess. Whatever. You’re sitting right across from me and I might throw a cracker at you. But you alright I guess. 🙄🙄 don’t choke on the Turkey BabyGirl

[starsandink13]

The White Crow Game Chapter 6

Even though you were far away from the theater, the agonized screams still pierced through your mind. You had no idea for how long you've been walking; it seemed like the flow of time was frozen in place in this mansion. Forever stuck in a single moment no matter how much time really passed outside.

Which makes sense, since he did say that this is on the border between the fairy realm and the human realm... You thought and cracked your stiff neck. Carefully, you put a finger to where the bruise had once been and grimaced. From now on, I have to be even more careful when going through this place. Although I still don't know why he would go out of his way to heal me. Something about that isn't right.

When you were about to turn another corner, you noticed a painting of Corvin dressed in a dark red silk cloak. The hood was pulled up and he held a white rose out towards the viewer with an eerily placid smile and a sinister look in his eyes. But what interested you was that the rose looked as if it was jutting out of the canvas, almost as if you could reach towards it and pluck it out. Without thinking, you put your hand gently towards the rose and yelped as you felt petals under your fingers.

"W-what?" You gasped and touched the flower again.

The silky petals bent ever so slightly underneath your touch. Hesitantly, you pulled out the flower. To your shock, the rose was in your hands with the exact weight and texture of one. You looked back to the painting to see that where the rose once was is now a black silhouette of it.

You turned the rose once more over in your hand before putting it back into the painting. The rose sank back into the canvas and transformed into a facade of what it was.

Could this mean that he hid the key inside of a painting?

Your hand wrapped around the strap of your satchel as you looked at the portrait. Admittedly, that is pretty smart of him if it is. No one would expect you to put it in such obviously plain sight.

You cracked your neck and walked away from the artwork. Excitement raced through your veins and you walked a little bit faster. You came to the end of the hallway to see that there weren't any paintings featuring a key of any kind.

Of course, it wouldn't be that easy...

You shook your head and let out a deep sigh, running a hand through your messy (H/C) hair. You closed your eyes and leaned against a door. The door gave way to your weight and you let out a sharp squeak. Before you could fall on your face, you regained your balance. You shook your head, dusting off your pants and looked at the room you stumbled into.

It was a magnificent music room with most of its light goldish walls taken up by tall, arched windows that let in streams of moonlight. The floors were white marble with thin veins of gold that were so polished that you could see your reflection in it. At even intervals, dark blue chaises and ottomans were placed up against the walls. Next to one of the windows was an ivory harp and a cello. You walked up to a window and looked up at the moon that hung in the ink-black sky like a silver eye.

Your heart clenched and put a hand over it. Don't give up, you're close to freedom.

In the middle of the room was a well-polished grand piano. It was black and glossy like a raven's feather with ivory keys shining like pearls in the low light. The piano bench seated in front of it was made of ebony with midnight blue velvet upholstery.

Do I have to play Moonlight Sonata? You scoffed and turned away from the piano. As you were about to leave the room, a melody played behind you.

You whipped around to see Corvin seated at the piano. You were about to demand to know what he was doing but stopped when you saw his expression. His face was placid and focused; a far cry from his usually mischievous demeanor. His long and slender fingers gracefully plucked at the keys. The music was low and haunting, like the soft cries of a ghostly bride. You wanted to sit down next to him and listen for eternity. Your limbs felt heavy and you slowly walked towards him. As you were about to sit next to him, you froze up and remembered that this was a trap fairies used to lure humans.

You took a step back and put your hands over your ears and clenched your eyes shut. Your heart felt like a vice was crushing it as every bone in your body locked in place. Fear raced through you like a spider's venom as the melody continued to play, beckoning you to your doom.

Think of something else, come on! Do not listen to it!

The music seemed to become louder, tempting you to put your hands down and close your eyes for eternity. You bit your lip, a sharp pain bursted and your mouth was tinged with the metallic taste of blood.

The melody was becoming stronger; almost as if it was begging-- no, demanding-- you to put your hands down from your ears and listen. Your (S/C) hands were violently shaking.

Think of the key! Focus on the finding the key!

As the last of your fraying willpower was nearly gone, the music finally stopped. You heard a quiet laugh from Corvin and you opened your eyes slightly.

"My, am I really that bad?" He said and got up from the bench.

"No-- the opposite. I would never expect you to be good at it," you begrudgingly admitted, a sharp heat flashed on your face.

"There are quite a lot of things you don't know about me," he leaned into your ear with his hand on your shoulder, his voice husky. "Besides, when you have lived as long as I have you tend to pick up various hobbies to stave away the boredom. Maybe I'll dedicate a song to us and perform it at the wedding. What do you think of that?"

Please don't.

"Speechless, aren't you?" His voice became lower. His soft, cool breath hit your cheek, making your skin crawl. Thankfully, he slowly stepped away from you before you could shove him off of you.

"You have quite a lot of artwork, don't you?" You said. "Especially of yourself."

"It's to serve as a reminder of who's home it is," he answered as he straightened out the lapels of his jacket.

"Can I ask something?"

"Of course."

"You mentioned that you have a lot of hobbies, right?"

"Yes."

"Is one of them painting?"

"I occasionally do some, mostly of landscapes and interior environments." He admitted. "Although I'm not too bad at portraiture, would you like one of you for our first anniversary?"

"No," you bluntly stated.

"My dear has anyone told you're as beautiful as you are scathing?"

"Yes."

"And yet you are still so cruel!" He playfully gasped.

"Anyways, do fairy artists have the ability to put an item into the canvas?" You said impatiently.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean can they put an object into the frame and make it appear as if it is part of the painting. Hide it in plain view so to speak?"

His eyes widened for a moment and he fell silent before quietly answering, "Yes."

"What other things can fairies do regarding artworks?" You continued, "Not just paintings and sculptures, but also music, literature, and so on?"

"Just like in the stories you have about us, we can create music that can put people into a trance and spirit them away," he responded.

"Like what you tried to do earlier?" You folded your arms over your chest.

"I was only doing that to showcase my talent." He huffed slightly.

"And what about literature?" You asked.

"That highly depends on each individual fairy's preference. Truth be told, I'm surprised none of you have spread stories about that-- pun not intended." He said. "But anyways, some like to place nasty traps in which if some unfortunate person opened a book, they're trapped in there forever or until the fairy decides to set them free. Others like to make it so that the book comes to life and attacks the reader, and a few prefer to make it that if you read the words aloud, the story would happen in real life."

"Interesting," you commented.

"I suppose it is," he agreed. "But I have something that I want to ask of you?"

"What is it?"

"What is your favorite color? I think it may be (F/C), but I want to be absolutely certain."

"Let me guess: it's going to be the color of my wedding dress?"

"If you want it to be," he said. "But what I had in mind was the accent colors of the decorations: like the color of the aisleway, the tablecloths, or even the color of the bridesmaids dresses."

"Do you really want to know?"

"Yes. I want to make sure every last single detail of our big day is perfect. Even for the smallest things."

"It is (F/C)," you sighed, a cold pang of embarrassment shot through your heart.

"Oh good, for a moment I wasn't so sure." He let out a breath of relief.

You said nothing as Corvin hummed a light lullaby and came up to one of the windows, looking up towards the moon with a slight smile dancing on his lips. His white hair and skin looked even more ghostly in the silver light, making the crimson and gold of his eyes stand out even more.

"What a pleasant night," he mused. "The sky's clear so you can see the stars and it's a full moon too! I only hope our wedding night is as beautiful as this one."

A flash of anger ran up your arms and you clenched your fists tightly. Calm down, he's only doing this to get me riled up and to lose focus.

"I see," you said, trying to keep the venom leaking out.

"Something the matter? Your jaw looks a little tense," the right corner of his lips twitched further upwards.

Yeah-- you.

Corvin sighed at your lack of response and came back behind you. He put his face a little bit closer to yours, his breath tickling your (S/C) cheek. With a closer look, you saw a ruby earring in his ear that glittered against his pale skin.

Like a droplet of crystalized blood against white marble. You thought and flicked his hand away from you.

"Well, I can't say this was necessarily pleasant, but I now have to take my leave," you grumbled and stormed out of the music room.

"You sure you don't want to talk about what's upsetting you?" Corvin called out.

---

While you jogged down the hallways, the feeling of hope was swelling inside of you. Your body was clenched with excitement and relief with only one thing ringing through your mind: just find that painting and get out of here!

 Your eyes darted from side to side, looking for any paintings with a key in it. You slowed down and looked behind you. A realization hit you: why would he give you the answer so easily?

You froze up, shock shot through your back before you shook your head, snorting out of your nose as you cursed yourself for overlooking that one detail. An overwhelming wave of frustration and dread overcame you. It's going to be like that stupid wine cellar or that theater...

A low, rumbling groan came from the back of your throat and you sighed. You sat down on a nearby chair with one leg crossed over the other. If only I had a piece of iron with me, I could just go home without playing this game.

You heard the flapping of wings and you looked up to see a white raven flying over you.

"Corvin?" You called out.

The raven didn't respond as it continued down the corridor, eventually becoming swallowed up by the shadows and leaving behind only a single white plume.

That's weird. Normally, he would have made some sort of condescending comment by now. You furrowed your brows. Wonder where he's heading off too.

You began to go into the direction that the corvid was heading towards. While you walked, you reached for the pocket where your knife was, readying yourself for whatever lurks within the corridor. The only sounds was the echoing of your footsteps and your breathing. The silence was deafening, making each sound worse. As you slowly crept further down the hallway, something bronze glinted in the chandelier light.

Whipping your head, you saw a plaque that read: GALLERY hanging from the wall next to a pair of double doors with doorhandles in the shape of a paintbrush.

"Gallery?" You put your hands on your hips. "As in an art gallery?"

Does that mean it's in there? It might be a trap though.

Your limbs tensed up and your hand reached for the knife. You put your ear to the door and listened for anything on the other side of it. You couldn't make out any sound that would suggest any attackers. However, you wanted to make sure; you didn't want to repeat what happened back at the theater.

You cringed and put a hand to where you had been slashed on the leg. With a trembling hand, you anxiously slid the knife under the door, using the reflection to see any potential dangers. Painfully slowly, you knelt down besides the door and looked down at the reflection.

The angle was disorientating at first, but after a few seconds you got used to it. You carefully slid the knife around to get as clear a view as you could of the room. There was nothing that seemed out of place or dangerous. All you could see was hunter's green wall paper with an intricate floral pattern and five ivory pedestals placed at even intervals on one side of the room. On the other side of the room was a small, round rosewood table with a vase of flowers and a brass candelabra with five lit candles in it.

You waited for a few more moments to ensure that it was safe before reaching for the handle. The metal was icy-cold to the touch and almost painful. You winced slightly before pulling it open. A warm air greeted you as the door groaned and you stepped inside. Immediately, you pulled out your knife and held it in front of you.

Biting the inside of your lip, you took another step inside of the room. Your body tensed, ready for an attack. You made your way to the table, between the vase and candelabra was a pair of gold thin-rimmed glasses with round, owlish lenses.

You turned around and saw that on the right side of the room was a golden plaque that read: OFFERINGS FOR ALL OF THEM.

You froze. Your mouth was partially opened in puzzlement and you looked on your left to the pedestals. Behind them, were five paintings. The paintings were that of a pair of cracked and gray lips, a severed and rotting ear, a bloodshot eye, a veiny and discolored hand, and a cracked nose covered in small scars. All of them were overly-detailed with each grotesque feature carefully rendered, making you feel sick looking at them.

You looked back at the plaque and at the paintings. 'Offerings for all of them?' What does that even mean?

Carefully approaching the paintings, you took in every minute detail of them despite wanting to avert your eyes from them, trying to look for any hints. You put a hand to your temple and closed your eyes in concentration.

Five paintings...

Five offerings...

Wait-- these paintings represented each of the five senses! So I just need to put something on the pedestal that corresponds to that sense!

Without wasting another second, you put the candelabra in front of the painting of the hand and a vase of flower in front of the nose painting. You grabbed the glasses and carefully put it on the eye's pedestal. You winced, realizing that you had to make your way to the music room and put an instrument in front of the ear.

With an exasperated groan, you made your way back to the music room. You prayed that Corvin still wasn't there just to rub your imprisonment in your face. As you walked, you noticed that the Corvin in the painting you saw earlier was grinning even wider.

Shivering, you averted your eyes away from it and began to jog. You could feel its eyes burning on the back of your head like a snake readying to strike.

After what felt like hours, you finally were back at the music room. Immediately, you looked around for an instrument small enough to be placed on the pedestal. You caught the glint of something on your left. Sitting on a table was a long, silvery-white flute that shined in the moonlight like a sword. Your fingers wrapped around the cold metal and you carefully put the instrument into your satchel.

"Why are you back here?"

You turned around to see Corvin a few feet behind you with his hands behind his back and a devious smirk. As he approached closer, you could smell the intoxicating aroma of absinthe, wolfsbane, poppies, and smoke coming from him. It was almost strong enough to make you close your eyes and drop your guard.

"What do you want?" You spat out.

"I asked first," he chuckled, the smirk on his face becoming bigger. His eyes twinkled with a dangerous look in them and he saw the flute peeking from your satchel.

In an instant, he was within arm's length of you and he pulled the flute out of your bag. "My, what were you planning on doing with this?"

"Hey--!" You exclaimed and reached for the flute.

"Were you trying to teach yourself the flute?" He held the instrument higher over his head, his smirk was now a full-on grin.

"Just give it back!" You yelled.

"This is my flute," he corrected. "So I can do with it as I please, not you."

You turned on your heel and looked around for another small instrument. As you were about to reach out for violin, the instrument flew towards Corvin. The fairy's mischief-filled eyes were trained on you like a fox waiting to strike. Turning back around, you reached for a lyre only for that to go towards him a well. Annoyance welled in your chest and you marched over to a clarinet, and the instrument flew towards the fairy.

Every part of your body was boiling with frustration and you scowled at Corvin. He returned your look with a sly smile. After standing in silence for a few moments, he took a step towards you with a gleam in his eyes.

"You know, I'll give an instrument of your choosing to you: under one condition."

"Which is...?" You said, smothering back a groan of dismay.

"You'll have to listen to me play a song with the instrument of your choice and without covering your ears."

"How am I so sure that you aren't going to try and put me under some kind of spell?"

"I could have done that with the piano earlier, but I didn't. And besides, I've been honest with you this entire time, haven't I?"

"Yes but--"

"But what?"

"Who's to say that you wouldn't start being dishonest with me now?"

"You would have a good point, had it not been for the fact that I hold myself to my standards very strictly, and I don't plan on deviating from that any time soon," he countered.

You clenched your eyes and held your hands tightly in your lap, praying that you didn't fall into a trap.

"Fine," you hissed. "I'll listen."

"Excellent," he clasped his hands in front of him. "Now which instrument do you want to listen to?"

"Don't care. So long as I can carry it." You grumbled.

"You sure?" He said and delicately put a hand on the violin. "Don't you have at least an inclination to one of them?"

"None," you answered. "Can we just hurry this up?!"

Corvin shook his head. "My, talk about impatience."

He hummed and looked at the instruments floating in the air. Taking his time inspecting them, running his hand on their surface. You knew that he was enjoying taking his time and that you could do nothing about it.

"I haven't played the flute in a while," he mused and reached out for it. Noticing you relaxing, he quickly retracted his hand.

"Actually, maybe I want to play the violin," he said. "Although I have been playing it quite a lot recently and I want to change it up a bit. So maybe the lyre instead. However, I don't think I'm at an adequate enough level to play it for such a special audience member. Or I can go with the clarinet, although I'm not particularly a big fan of it. Decisions, decisions. decisions..."

Gritting your teeth, you folded your arms underneath your chest. Corvin noticed the glare and softly laughed, he walked behind you.

"Maybe I can play an--"

"Stop stalling and pick something already!" You yelled.

"You know what? I'll go with the flute," he said and plucked the small instrument from the air. "Now please take a seat."

You obeyed, and ironed yourself for what would come next. You squeezed your hands between your thighs and chewed on the inside of your mouth.

"Now what song to play?" Corvin mused.

You were about to say 'I don't care', but stopped yourself, not wanting to give him another excuse to waste your time.

"Mary Had a Little Lamb," you said quickly.

"Seriously?" The fairy raised an eyebrow. "Why not something that's a bit more sophisticated than some silly nursery rhyme?"

"What? You aren't going to play a simple song for me!?" You exclaimed.

"My dear, I will do anything you want me to do, except for that." He answered.

"Oh for the love of-- play Moonlight Sonata!" You shouted.

"Moonlight Sonata it is," Corvin said and with a dramatic pose, he put the flute's embouchure hole to his lips.

The aria was soft and delicate as his slight fingers pressed down on the keys, a tear was starting to form in your eye from how beautiful the performance was. You felt all of the annoyance and impatience slowly sap out of you, replaced by a surreal calmness. You focused solely on the fairy, the world around you was hazy except for him. You were about to fall asleep when he finished.

"Thank you," he bowed at the waist and extended the flute towards you.

You snatched the flute from his hand and exited the music room for the last time.

---

Looking around the room, you saw that there wasn't any food items to present to the mouth. Your heart dropped, realizing that you needed to go back to either the dining room or find the kitchen. You looked at a cookie tin that sat on a dusty shelf. Hope fluttered in your heart and you opened it only to see that it was empty, except for a few small crumbs at the bottom of it.

"Damn it," you grumbled and opened the tea can next to it, only for that to also be empty. Shaking your head, you put the container back on the shelf and moved onto a taffy box.

Please, let this be the rules of three. You prayed and slowly opened it: only to find a couple of wrappers in it.

You threw back your head and growled. You threw the box at the wall and let out a string of curses. Your shoulders tensed in disappointment and dread as your stomach was twisting and boiling. Letting out a groan through your teeth, you left the room hopefully for what would be the final time.

---

After taking a few wrong turns, you finally reached the dining room once more. You reached the doorknob and braced yourself for Corvin and his taunting remarks. Sucking up a deep breath, you opened the door slowly.

To your shock and relief, he wasn't there. You closed your eyes and exhaled through your nose.

Oh thank you God. You grabbed a porcelain plate and ripped off the baked goose's leg and put a bread roll on it.

"I knew you'd eventually eat," Corvin said behind you. "Come, sit down."

You rolled your eyes and pushed past him, not wanting to put up with him for any longer. You grabbed the door handle and pulled on it, it was locked. Gritting your teeth, you pulled on it harder but it remained firmly locked.

"What? Hey, open the doors!" You demanded.

"Only after you eat," he answered and poured himself some wine.

"No," you seethed.

"Then they'll remain locked," he answered coolly.

Unless you give up.

You stood in place and glared at him, not wanting to look at the cornucopia. Putting your hands in your pockets, you leaned against the wall next to the door. The minutes started to feel like days, the delectable smells of the dinner became stronger, making your mouth water. You could almost taste the buttery skin and the soft flesh of the goose, feeling the juices bursting into your mouth as you took a bite. You clenched your jaw set and crossed your arms over your chest. Corvin turned his head towards you, a smile was dancing on his face.

"If your plan is to wait until I finally open the doors, then it's not going to work. You're just wasting time. Time that could have been used for you to look for the front door key." He laughed and took a drink from his goblet.

Clamping your jaw, you sat down in the nearest chair. Your hands reached for the fork and knife, trembling as you cut a piece of goose. You glanced at the side to see Corvin watching you as he took another sip.

"Go on then," he said.

You looked down at the plate, the glistening skin of the goose looked as if it was pulsating in the light. The smell was becoming stronger. Your heart slowly thumped as you raised the morsel closer to your mouth. Your hands were shaking more as it was now barely brushing against your lips. Clenching your eyes shut, you put it in your mouth.

Your tastebuds tingled at the savory juices and the tenderness of the meat before you greedily swallowed. Without thinking, you took another bite out of the goose without bothering to chewing it. Your hunger had over came you, and you piled your plate with every food within an arm's reach. Immediately, you scarfed down your food. You were almost done with eating when you remembered why you were here to begin with. Panic stabbed through your heart and you snapped your head at Corvin; his mischievous grin was curled up even further than before.

"Didn't I tell you that nothing will happen if you eat it?" He sipped from his goblet. "Unlike some of the more loutish of my kind, I don't like spiking or cursing my guests' food. Unless they're a political enemy, in which case, it's fair game."

"Now that I've ate, are you going to finally open those doors?" You grunted.

"Of course," he said and snapped his fingers.

Quickly, you stuffed a bread roll and the plate into your satchel.

"Are you saving that for later?" Corvin tilted his head, his eyes twinkling.

You rolled your eyes and left the dining room.

---

"Here it goes," you sighed and put the plate of food on the mouth painting's pedestal. A soft click came from the door and you walked towards it.

As you were about to reach for the doorknob, you heard the sounds of mouth smacking and heavy sniffing with flute music playing behind you. Whipping your head around, you saw that the plate of food had been eaten down the very last morsel and that the flowers in the vase were limp. The paintings were now completely black, the surface rippling ever so slightly like water.

Your breath hitched and you cautiously looked back at the door. With a shaky hand, you slowly pushed the doors open

[bucktommyweek]

Day 7 Masterlist: Leaving a Mark & Alternate Prompts 

Cherry by nine-one-wanton

Drive You Crazy by jamesandanthony

You’re an artwork by spacewinter 

I’ll Finish It When I Love You by half-oz-edde 

Got A Little Something by desert-moonchild

You drew stars around my scars by aesthetictarlos

Order up, I’m hot to go by theweewooshow

Tommy’s Property by bucknerdycore

Leave a mark on me by medieshanachie 

You can never have just one by frizzlenox

Outside the lines by bibuckkinard

He Wrote Mine On My Upper Thigh by 911varietyposts

The boy is mine by thatmexisaurus

Alternate: Toy Chest

Sticks & stones may break my bones by aringofsalt

Alternate: No Touching

Private Celebration by medieshanachie 

Alternate: I’ll Come for you, no matter what 

Through the Fire and Flames by harborstationhottie

Can you haunt me forever please? By alost-traveler

-

Comment on this post if I missed anything

[parameciam]

ahhh seeing that art of hualian as gustav klimt's the kiss is making me need a quanyin version. I think I'd truly would dissolve. i need them as my fav artwork ever ;u;

everyone at qy nation server knows I'm a bit insane about quanyin kissing each other's cheeks (because every time i see fanart of them like that I share it and scream QUANYIN BESITO like a madman jskdhsksj) so it's not exactly new coming from me.

but now I need it and the idea will live rent free in my head forever ;u; I don't have money to commission anyone so it will live in my mind and haunt me 😭

[drawingfandomes]

Oh look! It’s a Carl the cupcake sticker I made that is available for sale right now, in multiple finishes on my Etsy eclectictreasuredart! This is another artwork I have that’s perfect to post for the spooky months of September and October!

Carl the cupcake was totally my favorite character from the fnaf movie because he’s just so silly and goofy and it’s so funny to me that everyone memed the fact he got more screen time than the main fnaf animatronic trio…and somehow he was more powerful too?

Also apparently he’s haunted by the ghost of Chica’s ghost child’s dog, so like, the kid who died and haunts chica gets to be with his dog forever how wholesome, makes Carl 10x better, cus he’s just a dog in a cupcake! He literally got that dog in him! 🥺🐶🧁

[roseartsandfics]

Happy 15th Anniversary 9! 💚

Happy 15th anniversary to a beautiful, haunting and epic 2009 film of 9!

Here we got 9 running playfully and Rose LaBelle (my OC) holding a bouquet of flowers, probably running along with him ❤️ Just some brotherly sisterly bond 💚 I was going to add 5, but I didn't want to re-layer or give myself a hard time or create more delayed time to get it done. So this just the two of them ^^;

This is kinda rushed, because I was about to do it last night, but got busy with FFVII Ever Crisis, which they had a 1st anniversary since it's released. And (spoiler maybe ^^;) I got like A LOT of cool things to grind some stuff fast without even going to battles over and over for items that'll take FOREVER to grind. I actually came up with plans to actually get through the mobile game on my computer since I got extras from the login in item charts, and I was really glad I got to do most of them since I'm levels up high and grinding faster. :)

Anyways, back to this topic, I did watch 9 today after dinner, just after getting home from school. I finished it right before watching the movie, and started on it this morning before heading to the bus, and to continue on the bus before getting home and finished it after dinner. I liked how it turned out :) This film brought me so much joy, and very surprised it turned 15 today, for the fact I hadn't known it at a young age until 2021 when I got into it very much!

Hope y'all had a great day and a great 15th anniversary! 💚

9 (character) and 9 ©Shane Acker, Tim Burton, Timur Bekmambetov and Focus Features

Rose LaBelle and artwork ©RosePrincessArts

No copyright infringement is intended

Used: Sketchbook app from iPad

[o-flairegan]

Story is under the cut if you want to read it here

Footnote

So I'll just take a footnote in your life,

And you could take my body

Every line I would write for you,

But a footnote will do,

A footnote will do.

Footnote- Conan Gray

Agatha stares off silently, the crisp morning air numbing her face and hands as she stands on the back porch. The wind blows lazily through the trees and tousels her hair but she doesn't move.

Even as the cold seeps through her jacket and the mug of tea in her hands cools she stays rooted, looking at the woodlands and knowing everything has changed.

Agatha feels empty, like someone has carved out a hollow in her chest where her heart used to be. The gnawing ache and jittery feelings seem in sharp contrast and she doesn't know if she should stay still or run.

Her mind turns to the one person she wants to reach for, Rio. With that thought the tears finally fall and she swallows harshly around the lump in her throat.

If only it were that simple, but Rio isnt hers anymore and maybe never should have been.

It is a self deprecating thought but she can't help it. She is a forty year old artist with not much to show for her life except some cool artwork and some interesting life stories.

While Rio is a young college student, with an exceedingly bright future ahead of her.

Agatha had hoped to be there to see her achieve her wants and dreams but all that had shattered a few nights ago over text.

"Um so Kara asked me out on a date."

Those words will haunt her forever, like a sucker punch to the solar plexus. Agatha can't say how many times her eyes traced those words.

She knew that what they had was a hope at best but It hurt all the same.

When this had first started between them Agath had said , "If someone else comes along dont give that up for what we might be."

She regrets those words, a bitter taste in her mouth and anguish in her heart.

Agatha knew it had been a risk to fall for Rio, foolhardy to open herself up but it had been so easy. The young woman was sarcastic, smart and funny, while showing moments of sweetness and care.

It was hard not to care, to fall for her a little bit every day over text and phone calls.

A month was all they really had before everything was upended by that one little text.

However it felt longer because every waking moment felt like Rio was involved in some way. Agatha had wanted to share her work and anything new in her life.

Both at one point had admitted to hoping that the notifications on their phones meant it was a message from the other.

The friendship came easy and with it more. Nothing ever happened between the two, not physically anyway. Not for a lack of wanting at least from both parties.

If they hadn't been states away from one another maybe things would have been different.

With a deep sigh Agatha steps in from the cold and drains the last of her lukewarm tea, her face screwing up at the taste.

As she cleans her mug and starts making a light breakfast she thinks over the last two days and the conversations she has shared with Rio.

She will be happy to never hear the words I'm sorry again. They had been uttered and texted too many times to count. From both parties.

Even as Agatha reeled with the knowledge of Rio wanting to date someone else she still worried about the young woman. She still cared and wanted her safe.

Didn't matter that her heart was cracking and she felt like she hadn't been able to properly breathe in days.

Even though she had wanted to wipe the slate clean like with every past relationship, something kept her from it.

She couldn't bring herself to leave and instead offered friendship because the thought of not having Rio in her life at all hurt more than the thought of not having her.

It would be an adjustment, to shove all those feelings aside but they had been friends and she would do it for Rio. Would do anything for her if it would make her happy.

The only lingering doubt she had was if whoever Rio was dating would care.

They are ex-something's after all and not everyone is alright with their partner being friends with an ex.

Agatha can only hope that isn't the case but at the same time she wants Rio to be honest.

If the young woman tells her to go she will walk away and never look back even though it would pain her to do so.

Finishing breakfast Agatha pushes the thoughts of the young woman from her mind.

All she can do is hope for the best.

It isn't till that evening when night has fallen and anything that Agatha can use to distract herself has long been abandoned that her thoughts begin to wander.

Her house is still, the only sound is the hum of the heater while the darkness just brings forth memories.

She can hear Rios' voice in her head, her laughter, the soft rasp in her voice when she is sleepy and the purr in her voice as she said such delicious things.

Agatha squeezed her eyes shut tightly and tried to will the voice in her head away. Her hands come up to rub at her eyes harshly.

Agatha felt wrong in that moment craving Rio as she did. It was all in the past and it had to stay there for the good of them both.

She can't help but wonder if Rio thinks of her on nights like this or if she has moved on.

Agatha selfishly hopes she remembers her, remembers their late night chats, their flirty exchanges that bled into more.

She would never ask, doesn't want to know if she is remembered or if she has been so easily forgotten as she feels. Yet she craves it here in the dark, her wicked heart craving what she can not have in the daylight.

Her breath comes in shuddering gasps as tears fall. Agatha hates herself for this weakness, hates how the lingering doubts she has stirs the depression she keeps at bay.

All artists are tortured in some way, she is no different. Parents who wanted nothing to do with her, living on her own for so long and in situations she isn't proud of have left their own scars.

Agatha will deal with the old wounds along with the heartache she feels. The one good of this all is that Rio will never see her like this, this pitiful shell of herself.

With the upcoming holidays she will throw herself into projects and distractions. Especially knowing Rio won't be far from her, but the young woman isn't hers. Not anymore.

It would be too soon to see her as a friend, especially with things how they are now.

Agatha doesn't trust herself. Not yet. So she will spend the holidays alone as she has for years.

Sure she has friends but those friends have family and inevitably she will end up alone.

In a selfish way she wishes this had all occurred after the holidays, if only to save her the extra anguish.

With no more tears left to shed the older woman falls into a fitful sleep.

Agatha wakes the next morning feeling groggy, eyes aching and swollen. She reaches for her phone, poised to send Rio a message out of habit but falters.

She can't do it, she needs to give Rio her space. So she sets down her phone and instead goes to make tea as is her morning routine.

After tea she gathers her paintbrushes, watercolors and water and sits at her desk to paint. She hits play on the music and freezes as the first notes of The Exit by Conan Gray hit her ears. Agathas had forgotten that her carefully curated playlist of music is peppered with bits of music Rio had introduced her too.

Just another in a long list of things she won't soon forget.

Yet Agatha spends the day painting and listening to the music, only taking the breaks for food and to let the paint dry.

Each piece she paints feels a bit like a soothing balm. It won't fix the ache in her chest, only time can heal that and she has nothing but time.

Leaning back in her chair, Agatha blindly reaches for her phone, pausing her music before opening her texts and hitting Rio's name.

“Can I still send you your Xmas present?”

Agatha hits send before she can think twice about it.

Rio's message comes through quicker than Agatha had thought it would. “Only if you want to.”

Agatha wants to scream. Of course she wants to, had made something what feels like ages ago for the younger woman.

She takes a beat to reign in her emotions before responding. “I do. I made it for you.”

The response she gets in return is simple. “Then yeah.”

Agatha breathes a sigh of relief, glad that she can at least do that for Rio.

Still in the late hours of the evening, still sitting at her art desk Agatha wonders what might have been.

Thinks about their plans and what she had secretly hoped for. She wishes she had been selfish, had been greedy

Rio though deserved better, deserved to have those experiences. To live, love, make mistakes and learn.

And really what could Agatha offer her other than her heart and some pretty paintings?

She would stay in the young woman's life as long as she was wanted, or would fade out with time, till she was just a memory.

Sighing, Agatha dropped the pen shaking her head to clear the thoughts. With a flourish she finishes with the short note to Rio.

With trembling hands she placed it in the package that held the young womens Christmas present. It was just waiting to be packed and sent off.

Agatha could only hope the present would be appreciated as keeping them would only serve as a reminder of what she had lost.

Maybe in the future things would be different but she wouldn't live for the hope of it all.

Sealing the box she rests her hands on it for a moment as her chest tightens and her eyes flood with unshed tears.

Raising her hand to her lips she places a soft kiss on them and touches the box. She will send it when she has a chance and can only wish it will be well received.

With a twinge she does worry that it might be a bit much but really it was a painting that she hopes Rio enjoys.

And who knows, maybe someday things will be different for the two of them. Or at least Agatha can hope.

[penny00dreadful]

Well hi!

I'm a Steddie writer and artist, maybe with a few hints of Buckingham thrown in, that's primarily what you will find here.

I've been writing since the trenches of fanfiction.net.

My personal headcanon for these boys is they're kicking names and taking ass and they're all out of milk.

Artworks, podfics and translations welcome, just let me know cus I wanna see! 😊

1 Year Anniversary Post

Redbubble

Blood of the Covenant (AO3) - Eddie is an evil vampire for a little bit.

First Impressions (AO3) - Pride and Prejudice AU

Somebody To Love (Tumblr/AO3/Podfic) - Personal Assistant Steve/Rockstar Eddie

Return of The King (Tumblr/AO3) - Steddie Vampire AU with a twist!

Comeuppance (Tumblr/AO3) - Dustin tries to parent-trap Stancy. It does not go according to plan.

Fettuccini (smut) (Tumblr/AO3) - Steve tells Eddie he's not allowed to cum for the entire month of November.

And They Were Roommates! - (Tumblr/AO3/Fic Art) - Enemies to lovers roomates AU

Cat and Mouse (Tumblr/AO3) - Rookie Mistake prequel fic. Spy AU, enemies to lovers, getting together.

Folie à Deux - (Tumblr/AO3) - Body Swap Fic

The Mummy - (Tumblr/AO3) - The Mummy AU

Royal Pain - (Tumblr/AO3) - Royal AU

Safety (Tumblr/AO3/Podfic)- Robin is being followed and jumps into a group of metalheads to try and find safety.

Dish the Dish, Bish! (Tumblr)- Steve and Robin communicate badly about their respective crushes.

Crossroads (Tumblr/AO3)- Reincarnation AU. Beautiful cover art by @subbaculture

Like Ice (Tumblr) - Devil Wears Prada AU

To Find A Family - (Tumblr/AO3) - Anastasia AU

Before He Cheats - (Tumblr/AO3) - Eddie finds out his partner has been cheating on him when some guy named Steve calls.

The Parting Glass - (Tumblr/AO3) - Eddie is in mourning and moves back to Hawkins

Pink is My Signature Colour - (Tumblr) - Buckingham Legally Blonde AU

I'll Tell You My Sins and You Can Sharpen Your Knife - (Tumblr/AO3) - Songfic based off Take Me To Church

Love Is What Makes You Brave - (Tumblr/AO3) - Eddie found out Steve is getting married and is now idling in the church parking lot.

Rookie Mistake - (Tumblr/AO3) - Spies AU. Kidnapping. Murder husbands.

Hawkins Haunted House (AO3) - Steve gets roped into being a scare actor by Robin.

Family Commitments (AO3) - Eddie and Robin crash a family wedding Steve has to go to.

37 Years To The Day (Tumblr/AO3) - Steddie Time Travel

Passing Grade (Tumblr/AO3) - Teacher/Student Roleplay Smut

Santa Baby (Tumblr/AO3) - Santa Steve

Please Don't Tell Steve!

Steddie First Kiss Writing Game

High Bitch King Steve

Friends Roasting Friends On Live

Fat Bottomed Girls

#penny ficlet

"Hey! That's mine!"

Drunk Talk

Star

"I can explain!"

Missed Mistletoe

Waking Up

Chill/Give In

I Couldn't Lose You

Falling Star

#stwgdailyprompt

Through The Valley - (Tumblr/AO3)- Post-Apocalypse AU

#wip excerpts

The Princess Bride Art

Twilight AU Art

Times Like These Art

Valentines Day Art

Pin Up Steve

D&D AU

Selkie Steddie

Buckingham Art

Steve Harrington: Vampire Hunter

Sub Eddie Week

Je Ne Regrette Rien Fanart

I Want To Hold Your Hand Fanart

Mer-Eddie

Pride Art

Corroded Coffin Album Art (nsfw)

Jock Eddie and Punk Steve

Sex Drugs and A Haunted House Art

It's Only Forever Art

Wild Child Art

Ahoy Big Boy

Mistletoe Kiss

Steddie Holiday Drabbles

#penny art

[tadpal]

tagged by @zaegreus and @abrahamvanhelsings !! to choose four (or more) of my favourite artworks and let people decide which ones best suits my vibe! impossible impossible impossible!!

crazy that i haven't put an impressionist here bc that is my favourite movement historically but i think this means i don't have to choose my favourite impressionist piece out of 163828484. anyway biases below the cut 👇

tagging @carlsdraws @duskodair @silvermagpies @thorin @courtjester69420 @courtjesterart @pizza-hats-of-the-world-1882

god how does anyone see symphony of the sixth blast furnace and not have it haunt them forever and ever and ever. but colour and light and how it informs shape and how that echoes sound for me! is huge for me

paolo and francresca is THE Pre-Raphaelite yearning for me. genuinely it's the lean in it's the red green it's the way he's avoiding her eyes with the kiss to her hand. TRAGEDY. gorgeous

GIANT OCEAN PAINTING! ive seen one of these in person and it was crazy. irl my favourite painting is a giant ocean painting in a local gallery (not by aivazovsky) but i can't find a decent picture. obviously it's about the light and the diagonal lines with the waves/sails/clouds. you can feel the wind in that one.

OBVIOUSLY WE'RE EXPLORING SHAPE AND LIGHT. i ADORE how flat the lanterns are. genuinely so striking and gorgeous and WARM. i love the way theyre interacting too, it's so getting ready for the parades when i was in scouts.

[flowerveil02]

So, what IS Pokemon Reborn: Rainbow?

I'm glad you asked, anon! I'll put the answer simple above the cut and explain it in better detail below. Me and @nommyzommy will have a deep dive about Reborn: Rainbow in a later post.

WARNING: THIS IS A VERY LONG POST! You can just stick to the summary if you're not in the mood to read an excerpt as long as the bible!!

Put simply:

Reborn: Rainbow (from here forth called RR in this post) is an AU that combines elements of the white and black routes. It also contains original characters and events, including PULSEs, storyline, and even two entire cities with their own geography!

In detail:

RR mixes our favorite elements from both routes and changes some of them a little more to our preferences. It also allows us more screentime for our favorite characters that were kinda overshadowed or just straight-up put on a bus during the game :P Like Florinia, Serra, and more.

It also has new PULSEs and lore for Eve and the subsect of Team Meteor that creates them. And new lore for Team Meteor in general. Lots of the Alcantaras' history and influence is central to the fanfic.

Now, to begin on the characters: We made new characters (that we'll begin posting soon) and new arcs and designs for our favs! (Those are the RRr designs you've been seeing across our posts.) A lot more characters get to know each other, and the theme of the fanfic is a little bit more,, positive? More friendly? I just like games that are more optimistic! :)

And we've made new plot points and storyline! Like great news for Heather, the deforestation of a lot of the region's routes, and the recurrence of characters that were supposedly gone forever... *cough cough, the Belrose parents and Zina Vanhanen*

We've even made brand new cities and geography for them, too!! (Again, we'll touch up on these in a later post with finished maps and fixed details. Like the Jade Jungle is supposed to be bigger, etc.) First is Aquamarine City on Turquoise Island!

The Turquoise Islands have a tropical climate and are located in the Azurine Lake just under Reborn City. The island and city, Aquamarine City, are largely based on Florida and California. It and Coral Ward are conneceted by a large bridge that crosses the Azurine Lake. The surrounding geography includes jungles, beaches, coves, and mountains! It also has a string of small uninhabited islands called the Scallop Isands and a world-renowned tourist attraction called Draconite Isle, which features a dangerous temple that reportedly withholds treasures!

Second is Flinthearth Town!

The climate in the Flint Forest is humid temperate with hot summers and cold winters. Being located just south of Spinel Town, the area and town draw inspiration mostly from Tennessee, Kentucky, Alabama, and Texas. Many trains connect it to other territories of the region, including Spinel. The geography of the area is comprised of forests, mountains, lakes, and terraces. Their greatest attractions are the annual Flinthearth Fair (mirroring the Lincoln County Fair among other county fairs) and the abandoned (and reportedly haunted!) Alabaster Castle!

Shout out to @nommyzommy for her wonderful artwork on the maps! Expect to see refined future references for the areas on her page!

Thank you so so so much for asking!!! We'll begin posting about RR more in future updates! It makes me so happy to answer questions like this! And sorry for the longass post :P

Thanks for the ask, and stay groovy! <3

[wheelchair-wizard]

Irish Myths

VOL 9. The SELKIE. An Irish Mermaid Story

The Selkie’s Secret

In a forgotten corner of the Emerald Isle, where cliffs stood like ancient guardians and the waves whispered forgotten lullabies, there dwelled a fisherman named Eamon. His cottage clung to the rugged coast, its thatched roof weathered by countless storms. Eamon was a man of few words, his eyes etched with the sorrows of a lifetime spent chasing elusive fish and memories.

One tempest-laden evening, as rain drummed upon the windowpanes and the sea roared its defiance, Eamon stumbled upon a sight that would forever alter the course of his existence. There, nestled amidst the seaweed-strewn rocks, lay a treasure—a seal pelt of silver-gray, soft as moonlight and shimmering with otherworldly grace. Eamon’s gnarled fingers traced its edges, and he knew he held something more than mere fur. This was the skin of a Selkie—a creature of myth and melancholy.

The legends whispered of Selkies—of their dual existence, their fluidity between land and sea. By day, they swam as seals, their sleek bodies slicing through the icy depths. But when the moon hung low, they shed their skins, emerging as ethereal women, their eyes reflecting the mysteries of the abyss.

Eamon hid the pelt beneath his bed, its presence a secret shared only with the wind and the salt. Days turned into weeks, and his cottage became a sanctuary for the lost and the weary. Sailors sought refuge from raging storms, widows mourned husbands swallowed by the sea—all found solace within those walls. Yet Eamon’s gaze often strayed to the hidden pelt, wondering if the Selkie would return.

Then, one moonless night, as the stars blinked like ancient eyes, Eamon heard it—a melody that tugged at his heart, a lament woven from moonbeams and longing. He rushed to the window, and there she stood: the Selkie. Her skin was pale as foam, her hair a cascade of seaweed green. Her eyes held the wisdom of ages, and her lips curved in both fear and hope.

She was naked, vulnerable—a creature caught between realms. Eamon retrieved the pelt, its silvery strands slipping through his fingers like water. He held it out to her, voice barely a whisper. “Take it,” he said. “Be free.”

The Selkie’s tears glistened. She reached for the pelt, her fingers trembling. But then she hesitated, torn between love and duty. For Selkies faced a cruel choice: to remain with mortal lovers or return to the sea. Their hearts were bound by moonlight and salt spray.

Eamon understood. He had glimpsed eternity in her eyes, tasted salt and starlight on her lips. And so, with a bittersweet smile, he released her. The Selkie donned her pelt, her form shifting until she became a sleek seal once more. She nuzzled his cheek, a silent farewell, before slipping into the waves.

As the sea swallowed her, Eamon wept—for love unspoken, for a Selkie lost, and for the ache that would haunt him till his dying day. He walked the cliffs thereafter, eyes scanning the horizon, listening for her song—a melody carried by the wind, sung by a Selkie who danced beneath the moon.

And so, the legend of Eamon and the Selkie passed from generation to generation—a tale of sacrifice, of love that transcended realms, and of a fisherman who held the sea’s secrets close to his heart.

And there, my friend, ends our journey—a whisper of magic and longing that lingers in the salt-laden air, where Selkies still dance upon moonlit shores

Christy,

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