#wrything

[chaliceofthescales-if]

Merlion Corswell

Astor Wryth

Elise Fairthing

Bran Noire

Korone Noire

Starling Rhise

[reverentreaper]

Sparrow

Istg i am obsessed with drawing him

[jackwilliams09]

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[kotik-peter]

just a lil sketch

< Wrythe — On silent Wings >

[rogue-trader-samuel-drakon]

“Czevelle Rathgun, Reikul, Wrythe, Madwen, Selaina, Leona, and Zabyn. Did I happen to get any of your names wrong?” Spoke a man is relatively plane clothes as he approached. “I suppose I shouldn’t be too surprised, you’ve hardly attempted to hide yourselves.”

- @askthewanderer40k

"Is there something you need?" The Inquisitor asked as she eyed the man with suspicion. Her assassins were staying close defensively.

[natequarter]

tudor gothic:

the lord chancellor is called thomas. he runs the country. he wants no part in where england goes from now. the lord chancellor is being arrested for treason. the lord chancellor was executed. the lord chancellor was never arrested. there is no lord chancellor.

the crown is dissolving monasteries. this is standard practice. all the monasteries are shutting down. this is thomas's fault. you have no idea which thomas. the crown wants the monasteries back. the monasteries are never coming back. you visited an intact monastery just yesterday. when you blinked, the ruins gave alms to the poor.

the wars of the roses have just ended decisively. the wars of the roses have been over for decades. the legacy of civil war haunts england. you've watched shakespeare's wars of the roses plays. the wars of the roses must have been over when the throne passed peacefully to henry viii. when you close your eyes, you can somehow hear reginald pole laughing at you.

the duke of somerset was beheaded for treason. so was the duke of buckingham. so was the duke of northumberland. so was the duke of norfolk. so was the duke of suffolk. the duke of suffolk never lost the king's affection. all the dukes are vying for power. but then you remember: there are no dukes. perhaps there never were.

the howards are not to be trusted. thomas howard was thrown in the tower. thomas howard was executed for treason. thomas howard lived out his life peacefully. thomas howard only narrowly escaped henry viii's reign with his life. you are drowning in thomases. they never end. one thing you are certain of, though: thomas howard is long dead. thomas howard will outlive us all.

you know the names of every courtier in the kingdom, and yet more go missing with every passing day. you try to note down the name of thomas wryth, but you cannot put quill to parchment. how is it spelt? wriothesley? you have always known that. you know it deep in your bones. and yet, when you try to say it out loud, words fail you. words fail everyone, where the earl of southampton is concerned. somewhere dark and terrible, an ancient beast awakens from its slumber. like everything else, it is also called thomas.

you turn to noting down the name of the queen. kateryn parr. this is a simple task. your subconscious whispers catalina to you in a distinctly spanish accent. your hand shakes. you try to write down catherine, but it morphs into a k against your will. you drop your quill, hand trembling. nonetheless, there is a name before you. whose name it is is anyone's guess.

mary is queen. which mary? which queen? suddenly, you are not so sure.

the bible is written in latin. the bible has always been written in latin. you flick through the pages of your bible, and greek letters swim before your eyes. you check the book again, and find you are holding a book of hours. all the words are in english. you cannot read any of them.

the king of england has ruled for many years. he is nine years old. the king of england is a foreign power. elizabeth was king; now james is queen. long live queen james!

[thetangibleghost]

this was a joke but yall didnt get it. cause i was too dead pan

im too deadpan for tumblr

[luckyluan]

CHAPTER 7.2

Livingston dropped his gaze to the ground where his toes danced in his slides. He bent and scraped the water from his legs before he answered but found it lost somewhere in his chest. Oswin beckoned him closer, and the doctor walked into his open arms. He settled in Oswin’s embrace and the unicorn closed a blanket around them two of them. They gazed off into the distance and time slipped by. Oswin rested his chin on the crown of Livingston head and hummed a short tune. 

“I am deeply sorry for your mom’s departure. Your demeanor and attitude towards your abnormality now makes sense. You ran from your fight because the person who helped you cultivate it is no longer with us. I trust you know the God Black will grant her bright passage. She sounds like a remarkable woman. 

“How many are there?” Livingston asked. “Overall, I mean.” 

“I wager there are more gods in existence than stars in Estrelle’s dark garden. There is Ordan, King of the Godlands. Bae, His Queen, The Magic Godhead. Bayu, the mighty lord of the Seven Seas. His longtime lover, Wryth, whose blessing we experienced tonight. Also, Usa, the Proud Patron of War and Battle, the child of The Great Conflict. Choi, the Etern of Love, The God Black--” 

“--you mentioned the God Black earlier. I don’t remember that one.” Livingston interjected. 

“The God Black is the oldest god in existence. She oversees all transformations and the passage of souls. The Godlands as a neutral sanctuary to host her warring siblings and eventually retreated to her own domain. The Ultimate Impartial, sees all but chooses only to dwell in what is.” 

Oswin pressed his chin into the crown of Livingston’s head and let his cool breath wash over him. He ran his fingers along Livingston's damp skin and the doctor squirmed under his touch. 

“She is the being your mom met when she passed on. She councils the deceased as they move through the afterlife. She is in excellent care. All those who are capable of transitioning from this life are.” 

“Everyone doesn’t transition?” Livingston asked. 

“Not everyone. Some souls are incapable of making the necessary journey into the next stage of life. They may owe a debt to vengeful deity or are cursed by tradition or cultural ignorance. The entirety of Homoambrogus Cotardum adopted her as their patron.” 

“Homoabrogus Cotardum...” Livingston mused. “The Living Dead?” 

“The Ambiguous Dead.” Oswin corrected. “Those who have departed this life but find their souls immovable.” 

“Hold up. Vampires?! The Ambiguous Dead are vampires, right?” 

Oswin held his breathe. He drummed his fingers on Livingston’s thigh and the doctor nudged him in the ribs. Oswin exhaled his laughter in throaty coils. 

“The Vamir are an exceptionally reclusive and territorial branch of Abnormalkind, Livingston. We don’t deal with them as most suffer from insatiable hunger. Some adapt modern conventions but there are the stolid few who do their best to instill their hatred in their...offspring.” 

“That. Is. Wicked!” Livingston exclaimed. 

He lurched forward. His mind reeled with the new information. Livingston thought of the infinite possibilities immortality could offer to his research when he turned to Oswin’s stern face. 

“Dangerous, of course. We’d never, like, play with them if we saw them in public. We’re responsible adults, but that is cool.” 

“It’s curious Liliana never told you about them. They are a favorite bedtime story for parents with unruly children as I am certain you were a handful.” Oswin joked. 

“...Liliana.” Livingston repeated. “I never said my mom’s name, Oswin. 

Silence enveloped them. Livingston moved to his feet and loosened the coil at the base of his spine. The decadent scent of magnolias filled the air and a twisted branches grew from the windowsill. They wrapped around Oswin’s sinewy limbs and hoisted him into the air. Roots arranged themselves into steps and Livingston climbed toward the Oswin’s shocked face. Another branch slithered around Oswin’s neck at Livingston’s command, and he held his everchanging gaze. A clap of thunder illuminated is navy irises as spoke. 

“Who the fuck are you?” Livingston breathed. “I will not ask again.” 

--END--

[insane-mane]

What would be the name of Psyphon's species and planet? If you were to name them?

Species: Brak'Deenian

Planet: Wrythe

“Brak’Deenian” would be an anagram of Dee Bradely Baker. “Wrythe” is like “Writhe” like a worm, much like how Psyphon acts towards Vilgax in the show

[chrisdrawsboys]

Christian Wrythe

[chaliceofthescales-if]

The Guardian

Name: Astor Wryth Gender: Male Pronouns: He/Him Age: 24 MBTI: INTJ Patron of the Twelve: The Ram Height: 6'2 (188 cm) Body Details: Tall, deceivingly well-built/muscular/solid Skin Color: Fair Hair Details: Straight, Mid-Back Length, Light Blue/Almost Silver-Grey Eye Color: Light Gold Bio: Astor is the Guardian of the Warden of the Scales who somehow found himself working as a concierge at a hotel. He's structured and well-put together, adept at seemingly everything. He's a perfectionist and can be very annoying and nagging. Despite his perfect appearance, he is very out of touch with his Warden, not knowing where they are or even able to contact them. Official Image Reference: Pending...

Temporary Image Reference:

[luckycatlily]

new tumblr sexyman! this wrything bag of flesh!!!

[jacobsneed]

🎶✨️when u get this put 5 songs u actually listen to, publish. Then, send this ask to 10 of your favorite followers (non-negotiable, positivity is cool)🎶✨️

YIPPEE MORE TUNES TO SHARE! Thank you, @cassietrn and @poisonedtruth ! <33

Okay, I noticed last time I got overexcited and added 10 songs jfkghdjkfgh I'll be normal this time and share 5 I swear!

[amphiptere-art]

Ahhhh I see. That makes a lot of sense. We love that here While you're relaxing Blue Moon. How's everything in your universe going? Sun and Moon doing good?

The sun is beyond horizon. The moon is hidden behind his clouds. All is quiet for now.

The waiting maw is up in the stars. Searching for something that should not be found.

The wolf and bear chatter with ghosts. Tangled wires breathe and shutter. My world is quiet just for now. Although the others wrythe in problems that seem to have no end.

(goodness do I want to draw these things but I just can't. At least I can mentally know that it would all take place in relatively the same position)

[insidecroydon]

Man arrested for murder after Carshalton woman's stabbing

A murder investigation is underway after a woman was found with stab wounds in Carshalton. The police have named the victim as Gemma Devonish, 42, who was found by officers yesterday morning after being called to an address in Nutfield Close, off Wrythe Lane. She was pronounced dead at the scene. A 38-year-old man was arrested in the early hours of this morning on suspicion of murder and remains…

[ecectology]

pale singers

Even from afar, you could see the children, wrything loosely against the tall stone walls. They hung pale and gaunt, some tied around the hands, some by the ankles. The fort had stood for no more than 20 summers, and yet had seen more years than any of those boys.

Conscripts rushed into battle, a fool’s hope in a doomed war. Now they were chimes, swaying softly in the wind. 

From up close you could hear their song. A strangled pleading, but few had teeth, and none had tongues. Some still had legs and they kicked and kicked, dancing feebly to their forlorn chorus. 

We were nearly there now. Behind the fort, the glow of sunrise began to reach out, crowning the central tower, but when the gates opened the light disappeared, and all he could see was a gullet, hungry to swallow them all.

Perched atop the central tower, three faces started down at him. One man who may have been young in the days of his grandfather’s grandfather, adored in bright military regalia. His pale eyes surveyed the feast, and found themselves well sated. Beside him may have been the two most beautiful women he had ever seen. Golden hair falling in ringlets, framing their gentle mocha faces. They smiled. It was bright, and for a moment he almost remembered what it meant to feel warm, but then he remembered, they had the most prodigious appetite of all.