Keni
Sweet Seals For You, Always
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Aqua Utopia｜海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
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DEAR READER
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@misaempty
A STUDY IN: (re)discovering your personhood; turning your back on your god(s); man-made monsters and man, made monsters; bittersweet revenge; family dynamics and dysfunctions; life's perpetual and unbreakable cycles; self fulfilling prophecy.
GDOC ... PINTEREST ... SIDEBLOG ... PROMPTS
affiliated with: @saovaene / @allmonster / @vinduri / @middener / @st4ysoft
moving :) new blog but same url and same shenanigans. See you there!
it might have been useful if i'd actually linked it...
moving :) new blog but same url and same shenanigans. See you there!
Important question
URL?
Keep misaentropy it's a vibe
Change to choreomanik for some freshness
rae button
Having to buy physical copies of plays for a module: 😡
Buying them from a small business and sending the links to the course group chat so everyone buys them from that same place: 😇
I'm free
I hope I'm not too late but 💋 gimme some gay witchers
"gods, you look miserable." aiden's laugh has always rung clearly. his smooth barritone only catches in his throat when he's emotional, but now it trickles with amusement as he grins at the wolf who ducks under the stable roof to escape the rain. they're both soaked. the cat's deep blue cloak weighs five times as much when it's drenched. the black curls that frame his face are dripping, more pronounced when they're wet. he's hoping they'll be able to get a bath here, dreams of a cup of warm mead and lounging half naked on a real bed while their clothes dry. doesn't yet feel just as miserable as lambert looks, but give it a few minutes, and he might be just as grouchy.
for now though, he's laughing, reaches for the wolf's face to wipe the water from his brow and pat his stubbly cheek. "told you rain was coming. 's what you get for not believing me." aiden takes a step forward, pushing against lambert's body weight to bring his back agianst the wooden pole behind him. "buy me a bath, will you?" the witcher hums sweetly, and leans in to kiss him. he's pushing it, certainly, and yet remains convinced that lambert likes it when he's forward. they are tucked away enough that passersby will barely notice them.
"c'mon, we've still got places to be."
there is a certain joy in traveling with lambert that eases aiden's worries. that allows him to laugh and tease, to overlook the longing ache in his heart that wants for this to be forever. they aren't young anymore, but sometimes he feels as though he were. as though he could forget some of his bitterness because he sees it in lambert, too. aiden is still smiling when he nods toward the inn door. they are more likely to be rejected than let in, but he isn't worried. he isn't alone, after all.
💋 & @misaentropy
EVERYBODY SCREAM.
dialogue prompts from the title track of florence + the machine's sixth album. (change pronouns as necessary!)
i call her by her first name.
i always meet her back at this place.
i break down, get up, and do it all over again.
because it's never enough.
i could come here and scream as loud as i want.
here, i don't have to be quiet.
here, i don't have to be kind.
but look at me run myself ragged.
but how can i leave when you're screaming my name?
i will come to you in the evening, ragged and reeling.
i'll make you sing for me.
i'll make you scream.
here, i can take up the whole of the sky.
aren't you so glad you came?
breathless and begging, screaming my name...
protect me from evil.
the magic and the misery, madness and the mystery...
oh, what has it done to me?
what a long way you've come. oughgh ranni & rennala ..
She cannot feel the gentle caress of @k1tch3n's fingers against her porcelain cheek, but Ranni recalls their warmth from a time long past. If her glass eyes could water, tears would flow freely from them at the sight before her - the shell that once was the Full-Moon Queen. Her radiance dimmed by the light of the Erdtree. Her spirit shattered by the Lord of Gold. Even now she still cradles his parting gift, clutching it to her chest with one hand while the other reaches for the memory of her daughter. There is no beating heart to ache, to break, but Ranni still feels the sting of the gesture.
Mother, sweet mother, you deserved so much more than this fate. Locked in a tomb in her own castle, a tower over the lands that once revered her. The acolytes hum around them, and the princess wants nothing more than to snuff out their candles and banish them from this moment. Rennala may not remember it in a month, or a week, or a day, but Ranni will carry this goodbye with her for eternity.
" It is all for you, mother. " The witch tells her, squeezing her hand with the dolls fingers. They are cold and unfeeling, but Ranni hopes that Rennala will remember when they once belonged to a little girl that would hold them tightly and beg not to let go. " Everything I am become has been for you, and everything that I will be. "
She can feel the sorceress' attention waning. She wants to return to her dream, where the world is perfect and cannot hurt her any further. Ranni will not deny her this. It is painful to witness, but it is a kindness in many ways. Her mother won't have to watch what she must do now to achieve her end.
" Farewell, mama. " Whispered against the back of her mother's hand, before gently returning it to her. Princess Ranni then rises for the last time, her name and duty laid to rest at the feet of the Queen of the Full Moon. Unbound by the shackles that not even the rune of death could break. A daughter no more.
SOUR CHERRY ... accepting.
in the end, we're all haunted by the ones that came before. (for dany)
The ones that came before. The dragons whose blood she shares, whose blood has watered the land she would seek to claim. Daenerys carries them with her whether she means to or not. Can @nexusbeing see them all in her? Behind her eyes? Rhaegar. Viserys. Aerys. Dragon kings and queens and all the lords from before the doom. She feels the fire writhing beneath her skin sometimes, and wonders if it's really the dragonblood and not just her ancestors clawing at her from the inside, each one vying for power over her wills.
The young queen stays silent for a long time. Pale fingers grip the stone banister with such force she fears it may crack beneath her palms and send her tumbling into the depths of the city. As if caught in a dense fog, her mind is impossible to navigate. Her thoughts feel murky. Her fears feel cold. She will not meet the shrewd eye of the crimson witch. Dany worries that Wanda might see the doubt written across her countenance, and think her weaker for it.
" ... Who haunts you? " She asks finally, her voice low and melancholic. " Do they burden you, too? " Do you hear their voices? Can you quiet them? Can you show me how?
SOUR CHERRY ... accepting.
sour cherry.
dialogue prompts from sour cherry: a novel by natalia theodoridou.
has ____ always been a monster?
is there anything more enjoyable in life than being needed?
what a long way you've come.
a name can also be a burden. a curse, even.
you've always been smarter than i am.
you're alive. that's what matters.
you don't believe me. i can tell.
what does it feel like to be you?
what did ___ do? tell me.
do you think everyone is worthy of love? no matter what?
what good is a name to me?
there's still so much living left to do. isn't that always the problem, with grief?
memory doesn't always offer the best counsel.
when people have nothing, hurt is all they have.
why do you tell stories, if you don't know that they're true?
truth is a dangerous thing. it has teeth.
didn't anyone try to stop it?
i don't want to tell this part of the story.
you just get better, alright? that's all you have to do.
your father is nothing like you.
what a vivid imagination you have.
you become what you behold.
maybe you still stand a chance. maybe we both do.
why are your clothes so dirty?
protect the world from what?
i'm so glad you had [name].
i'd like to be so alive i could die.
it's not safe for you here anymore.
i have to go. it might be a while before we see each other again.
i want to do what you do.
the world isn't what you think it is.
i know you're telling the truth.
i can see things most people can't.
aren't heroes supposed to be alone?
i'm sorry. i know it's not the story you wanted.
this is the last time i touch you.
it's not what you are, it's what you choose to do.
every person is a house. there are hidden rooms in all of us.
were you always like this? was i?
i don't know how to love gently.
i know you haven't been sleeping.
in the end, we're all haunted by the ones that came before.
it was never the house that was haunted.
there is no way to escape, and nothing to escape to.
we weren't always so alike.
i learned early how to look away.
you need to face the things that scare you. who knows what will happen if you take your eyes off them?
i can never shake the feeling i'm not where i'm meant to be.
perhaps that is so, if it's what the people say.
the forest makes me feel like i'm being watched.
if i close my eyes tight enough, i can still see everything.
you've always been more clear-eyed than me.
it never occurred to me that i could have asked for help.
i've heard that when you die, you remember everything but your own name.
you're not like the others.
sometimes i come back and i'm sure you won't be here.
it's dreadful. it's perfect.
how is it that you keep finding me?
why aren't i more like ____?
why do you like me?
you can tell a different story, if you want.
i know this story already. i've lived it. i've always known how it ends.
you're the only one to ever match me.
there's only so much fairytales can do.
visits to the vineyard have become a somewhat regular occurrence, which he owes to a newfound life in this idyllic and ever - dazzling part of the duchy. He's ingratiated himself to Corvo Bianco's servants Marlene in particular, who welcomes Regis' visits regardless of the time and in spite of her remarks on that very same subject. It's a far cry from Dillingen, but community is community. [ Will he settle? Hard to say, though for now he is content with his arrangements. Beauclair is very much like the wine that flows through it like blood: best in small sips, and with a great deal of moderation. ]
there's a second acquaintance he's become familiar with in more than name and rumor now, every bit as intense as the reputation that precedes her. He catches Yennefer enjoying the sun partially, at least, considering she's sat in the shade of the vineyard's most robust oak.
❛ Quite easy to get used to the peace here, isn't it? One can only hope nothing lurks under its surface for the next little while. ❜
@misaentropy's yennefer + setting prompts: 10. a sun - drenched vineyard.
A warm breeze rustles through the leaves above her, peppering her face with the scents of the countryside: ripening grain from the fields; grapes laying idle in vats in the courtyard; pungent manure from the heap at the bottom of the hill, waiting to rot and then be spread across the land. Yennefer's senses are not nearly as sharp as a witcher's (or a vampire's), but her nose is very sensitive. She can recognise many things by smell alone, like the faint whiff of sage and wormwood, used in such vast quantities they permeate the very essence of the healer that approaches. She lets him speak, eyes shut, raven-crowned head resting against the bark.
And yet, peaceful is not a word she would use to describe this place. Yennefer finds the lull of Corvo Bianco to be disquieting after a lifetime spent in royal courts and bustling cities. Beauclair proper is more familiar, more comforting, but she knows better than to encroach on another sorceress' territory. So she resigns to content herself with lounging around the vineyard, pretending to listen to the prattling of the stray Geralt keeps as a cook, supervising the redecoration of the house to her exquisite taste. Visits from a certain exquisite acquaintance also keep her mind occupied - their conversations aren't always lively, but at least contain more substance than any other.
" Well, I've heard that there was a nasty infestation here, under the surface, in the cellars a little while ago. Good thing we both know a very capable monster hunter that can keep an eye on things. "
new oc cooking
"my father is the worst man alive and I am his favourite daughter" is so radagon and ranni but what's even more them is the fact that the image I just pinned with the quote is logan and shiv roy
Having maelle-shaped thoughts
i can't help but feel like it's underplayed how fucking catastrophic it is when mae gets alicia's memories. Like... they have different personalities. Have had different lives. it must have felt like her head was going to explode. it must feel like that a LOT in the aftermath, because there's no way that there's a seamless coexistence. it's like... odin and eivor. johnny and v. but the lines are even more blurred because where does one end and the other begin? does maelle cease to exist? does alicia, at least in the painting?
Im still replaying act 2 so my memory is hazy but i think that there's a cutscene where alicia talks about how mae's memories are as clear as her own, from the living world. how her experiences feel just as real. and i imagine that it's really hard to coexist with them. not even mentioning the dynamics with verso and gustave because damn, imagine losing two brothers but one of them never existed and the other only exists in this manifestation of his imagination. the psychological trauma? Immense. your girl is ✨fucked up✨
“do you not get that we are separate people?!” / johnny & v …
She's yelling at him. Again. This appears to be a recurring pattern; a part of their routine, like having irish coffee and cigarettes for breakfast. He says something, she argues with him, and then the argument devolves into the same loop. We are separate people. If only that were true.
" Kid, you're still breathing because of that fuckin' chip in your brain. Take that out and we're both dead. Doesn't sound very 'separate', does it? " He scoffs, twirling his lifeless cigarette between his index finger and thumb. It doesn't exist, no more than he does to anyone outside of Veda's mind, but it's still a comforting familiar in a world he doesn't entirely recognise anymore. He looks at her over his aviators, watching her frustrated pacing and furious expression. She desperately needs a smoke, a drink, or both.
Johnny, never one for peacemaking but not wanting to burn this bridge just yet, sighs. Relaxes his shoulders, pressed against the back wall her bed is pushed up to. Psyching himself up before he offers a sympathetic olive branch, or the closest thing to it: "I'm about as happy with this situation as you are- which is to say absolutely fucking not. I don't want to be piloting your jacked up corpo body, nice and all as those tits are. But until you get your shit together, I'm stuck here and you're stuck with me. "
It's far from comforting. She knows it, he knows it. He's not going to coddle her, give her pats on the back and reassuring words. That's not his style, and he's come to find that it's not hers either. She's also not stupid, unfortunately. She knows that if given half a chance, the chip will program his conscious over hers, and he'd let it. Survival of the fucking fittest: he wouldn't lose any sleep over it. And neither would she, if roles were reversed. Each of them holds a gun to the other's head. Both of them are ready to pull the trigger when they need to.
Johnny's body flickers, like a shitty tv signal, as he sucks on his imaginary cig. A few moments later he blows the imaginary smoke in near perfect rings in V's direction, half hoping to piss her off. She's hot when she's mad at him.
" Just get over it, V. You'll miss me when I'm gone. "
A MEME I'M TOO LAZY TO FIND.
presenting to u all this fine Monday night: maelle vibes
