Origami Around
Sade Olutola
todays bird
PR's Tumblrdome
祝日 / Permanent Vacation
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
No title available
Janaina Medeiros
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
sheepfilms
occasionally subtle
roma★
❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
Misplaced Lens Cap
YOU ARE THE REASON
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
#extradirty
KIROKAZE
seen from Türkiye
seen from Indonesia
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seen from Germany
seen from Iraq
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Indonesia
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@quartzhearted
about / interview / stats / thread tracker
⚔︎ it's everybody's FAVORITE FATHER!!!!! ⚔︎ strong of heart strong of ass. that's how it goes right ⚔︎ you'll hear him laughing a day before he arrives anywhere ⚔︎ Ask Me About The Cathedral! (don't)
basic info under the cut!
♡ blinks cutely
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he doesn't know a lot about her despite her always, somehow, being around him. she's friends with her boys but has never introduced herself; she brings him presents on his birthday and fusses over his health despite, well... everything.
she has to be a brodian because why else would she know so much? about himself, about his habits? and why would she care so much about him? one could blame it on keeping the sanity of diamant and alcryst, but they know he's capable on his own. ...mostly.
he can't help but feel like she wants something from him. he could be wrong, but...
♡
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that's quite possibly one of the most fascinating boys on the planet. of course, right below his kids... but only by a small margin, because only one of them is a divine dragon. and that's pretty cool.
alear is a kind child. his kindness is vast like brodia herself. like diamant's. morion knows from experience that it's hard to keep such a loving heart through as many storms as the world likes to give, so it's commendable that he can.
still waiting on that spar, btw.
♡ :]
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he hasn't spoken to this boy probably at all---and if he had, it wasn't impactful enough for him to remember. ( he's long past caring about whether he can remember who he's spoken to; blame it on the old age, thank you ).
however, morion would like to change that and soon, if only because he has seen how this kid can throw a sword around and he really likes how it looks. sure, there are plenty of promising swordsmen at the academy, but he in particular has caught morion's fancy. it's no-nonsense, not meant to impress or show off; it's the kind of swing from someone who means business. morion likes kids like that.
♡
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he's always been in morion's sights since the day he'd arrived. two barge-sized men with an affinity for the axe will find each other always.
since then, he has learned that it is a mistake to assume he is " gentler than he seems " ( as morion had initially thought once getting to know him a little better ). he is, to put it the morion way, a huge asshole that's really funny about it. their ongoing spar aside, matthias refuses to let up on something should he deem it important enough, and any attempts are met with surprisingly dry response.
it's refreshing, to say the least. not to mention that he's one of the only people to know about morion's condition outside of the people who witnessed it happen. it takes a lot to get there, really, given that morion isn't so open to that discussion among the many he is. matthias is a good friend, that's for certain.
♡ Hiii
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he's fun to bother, full stop. there were never many people in the palace that morion could just play around with---always ' your highness, do you not have a meeting today? ' ' your highness, the soldiers do not have all day to spend waiting for you. ' and other obnoxious set-phrases. it's nice to be able to fuck around with another guy, especially when he's as crazy ripped as seteth is.
( he, of course, does not stop to think whether his actions will ever see consequence. apologies, poor seteth. )
Send ♡ to see what my muse thinks of yours
○○○○○ | ATTRACTION ○○○○○ | AFFECTION ○○○○○ | INTEREST ○○○○○ | LOYALTY ○○○○○ | TRUST
LOW | ●●●●● | HIGH
idk you tell me
butch hartman hire me
This Could Only Be The Work Of... FAIRY GOD PARENTS!!!!
Fairly Odd Parents AU
"Rules, schmooles," Cynthia says. Well, her bravado lasts until Morion tells her Francis is out there. You can say a lot of things about Francis, but there's one positive about him: he's not a sexist.
So, he beats Cynthia up, too.
"You know what? No. It's about time someone showed that jerk a lesson," Cynthia says as she gets off the bus. Oh jeez, Chester's in his line of sight. She has to save him. "He's taken all our lunch money, kicked all our butts - if I get the jump on him, I know I can beat Francis without wishes!"
Cynthia's never wanted to taste toilet water.
Yet now her face is in the bowl, after having suffered quite a few swirlies. Francis is gone, her lunch money in hand.
"Morionnnnnn," she moans into the bowl. "I messed uuuuuuuup. I wish... ugh." Her head is spinning faster than the toilet water had been.
" wish what? that y'had more common sense gettin' off the bus? can't help ya with that one. "
morion would be shaking his head if he wasn't assuming the form of a large beach towel. with one of his corners he drags cynthia from the toilet before drying her off. " i tell ya again and again, it's like throwin' sand at a brick wall, " he sighs. " y'ain't doin' nothin' to that boy unless you start trainin' up, cynthia. it ain't by magic that i got these muscles. " and he flexes as best as a towel can. it's creepy to see a piece of cloth with huge biceps.
it was sweet of her to make the attempt for chester's sake, but morion is troubled that nobody else bothered to help. was it because francis just terrorizes everyone, or... or was it because people think she's the weird girl that talks to her pencil...?
well, he doesn't have time to think about it now. the bell rings and morion's got to go back to his pencilly self. " alright, that's enough drinkin' from the toilet bowl. c'mon, kid, it's time for class. "
This Could Only Be The Work Of... FAIRY GOD PARENTS!!!!
Fairly Odd Parents AU
The giant pencil POOFS into her hand, and with it comes a startled woah! from Cynthia. She's still not quite used to Morion just... being there. She's used to getting free stuff though, she likes that.
"Jeez, can't you come as something smaller?" She swishes the pencil around, before remembering that pencil is Morion. "Oops, sorry. It's bad enough being the girl who talks to stuff, but now I'm the girl who talks to a giant pencil with a goatee!" It's not helping her social standing for sure.
Back to the point.
"Yeah, but fairies have dumb rules. What's the point, you know? Go big or go home." Okay, so maybe she's upset she wasn't allowed to let Vicky get hurt.
" hey, hey! watch the merchandise! " the big pencil crows as he's swung around like a baseball bat ( which, at his size, probably wouldn't be an impossible thing to use him as ). " this is as small as i get! an' i thought kids your age liked fun novelty stuff. remember when everyone asked you if they could use your big eraser? "
that wasn't fun. morion nearly lost half of his head for that.
ah, but now she's trashing Da Rules. nope! that ain't good. " listen, squirt, you gotta get used to the fact that there's rules everywhere. fairies gotta follow 'em as much as anyone else! " has he tried talking jorgen von strangle out of some of the more restrictive ones? yep. has he ever succeeded? nope, but that last arm-wrestling match got him pretty close! " i think we can get pretty big already. you just gotta stretch that imagination of yours a bit, that's all. "
the bus arrives at its final destination: dimmsdale elementary school. morion looks out the window as a preliminary, stroking his beard with a small pencil-hand. " hmm... speakin' of big, it looks like francis is outside, " he muses, un-amused. he's probably looking to spread some extra monday cheer to the youngers... as usual.
" you want the usual hook-his-pants-to-the-flagpole wish? or y'wanna do somethin' different? "
This Could Only Be The Work Of... FAIRY GOD PARENTS!!!!
Fairly Odd Parents AU
Cynthia's an average kid, who no one understands.
Like her mom, Sumia, and her dad-
The school bus whizzes past her, driving straight through a puddle and soaking her completely. Okay. Alright. It's gonna be one of those days. Look, she knows she's not the coolest kid in school, but even the bus driving past her? Come on!
"I wish my clothes were clean and dry," she says. "Ooh, and I wish I was on the bus! Can I make that many wishes at once?" There's no way she's sitting down and reading Da Rules.
@quartzhearted save her, fairy god parent, save her
good morning, fish tank. good morning, world.
morion g. glitterstein awakens, ready to start the day like usual. he cracks his fins, swims a lap or two, then flops right out of his 130-gallon tank and POOF!s to his normal fairy self. it's a bit large, but, well, fairies come in different shapes and sizes. HIS so happens to be square.
another day of his precious godkid at school.
i wish my clothes were clean and dry. POOF! done.
and i wish i was on the bus! POOF! ( of course, he can't be on the bus as a fairy... and besides, he wouldn't fit. he takes on his normal school disguise: a giant novelty pencil. ) done.
" aw, c'mon, now, kid, that's only two wishes! " morion laughs. " i'm a veteran. i can do more than that! "
spitshine
On another day, in another mood, another aspect of the brilliant light that rolls off of Morion like smoke from wet wood--
--on another day, that'd piss Shinon off. Some strange big-chested bastion come thinking he can teach Shinon things. Things that'd help him not die.
Things like someone's da would teach them.
In this light, it doesn't piss him off--he doesn't think. Sticks in his craw, though, and he grinds his teeth on it, chews it like gristle.
Are there things that Shinon needs to learn?
Is he still capable of learning them? Has he not pickled every soft, bright part of himself in horse-piss whiskey?
He scoffs. "You assume you know somethin' I don't," he mutters. "Y'know what happens when you assume, old man."
To his horror, Shinon finds that it's a joke. That there is a spark of laughter in it, like a glint of daylight off the fresh-polished blade of an axe.
He shakes his weary head. "But you better watch out. Might take you up on that, sometime."
a moment of silence. and then,
" BWA-HAH! HA HA HA! s'pose you got me there!! "
morion's chest heaves as he laughs, slapping his knee in good humor. it's a damn nice thing hearing this kid take to their conversation, rickety as it started. add that to the list of nuts he can still crack.
he wonders if shinon really will take him up on the offer---standoffishness aside, he smacks of the lone-wolf type... not to mention how barbed he gets when there's history involved. morion would love nothing more than to sit down and talk weapons, hell, maybe even go fishing, if that's something he's interested in doing, but he knows better than to push when there's discomfort. he's done it enough times to learn. he supposes that's as good as he can get it. " if you want to, " he eases, " then y'can come get me whenever you like. but i won't force it if there's no interest. "
he hauls his axe up and stands, admiring the metal's clarity and sharp edges. " now this is a fine lookin' tomahawk. can't wait to start puttin' her to use. " turning to shinon, he extends a warm hand and equally warm smile. " and thank you for helpin' with it. couldn't have gotten it done as fast as we did without ya. "
∗ 1o﹕ sender wields a [ gun / knife ] at receiver . (A little AU moment, as a treat)
Larimar hits the ground roughly. Her arm ends up pinned beneath her. She feels the pain shoot up to her shoulder and immediately knows something is wrong. She grits her teeth against any scream or sob or sound that fights to burst free. Don't let them see when you're hurt. Her master has drilled this lesson into her head again and again with his own hands. You lose the advantage as soon as they know you're hurt.
Her good hand scrambles blindly to pick up her knife again. She was going to die here. It was a simple fact, even as she forced herself back up to her feet. A small, underfed, pathetic child like her was never really going to succeed with the task of killing the king.
She was a message, nothing more. And she was going to die here so others could make their point.
Blinking away the tears as her arm refuses to hold her weight as she tries to stay upright on the ground, she still meets his eyes again as she raises her knife to him. She has to force herself to breathe heavily through the urge to cry. If she is going to finally die, she'll do it with her head held high.
nonverbal prompts | accepting!
something has touched the back of morion's neck.
he has lived a long enough life, a life fraught enough with danger, to know when things should and should not be touching parts of his body. hands are for handshakes and holding weapons for killing, arms are for cradling his children and holding his shield up to deflect a blow, and necks are, under no circumstances, meant to be targeted. ever.
if something has touched the back of morion's neck, then it means he is being threatened.
there is a very short moment between the time he notices to when his arm flies behind himself, grabbing whatever he possibly can to rip it into view. he puts it down to the ground first, before even seeing it, pressing his weight down to ensure captivity.
and then he stops.
because out of all of the things he could have expected---thieves, assassins, hell, even a mutinying knight---nothing that ever crossed his mind looked like the little child he now has pinned beneath his hand. she's so small that morion actually takes weight off of her; any more and he might just break a bone on accident.
she's got to be his boys' age. even with her frailty, even with how underfed she is, morion can tell just by looking, and a cold forgiveness marches into his soul where it was normally strictly kept out. there has to be a reason for this. how could she have even gotten into this castle? was she put up to this?
why would she do this?
he doesn't even want to say he hasn't seen this before. he has heard stories of children raised as cannon fodder against the crown, but their little bodies never made it past the gates. something always stopped them. morion always hated it. there is a darkness that is cast across the crags of brodia, but this is not something that can be fixed in a day. nor can it be fixed in a week, or a moon, or a year. he has been trying, but his net has not been cast wide enough.
or perhaps this net should not be used at all?
as this little thing in his hand tries to hold the knife towards him again, morion knows that this cannot continue. there are two options present, and he shall choose neither of them.
he grabs the knife and throws it to one of his guards, disarming the child. then, morion picks her up, gentle but strong enough to keep her restrained. to his men he turns and barks:
" get a healer an' somethin' for this kid to eat. i'm keepin' her with me for the time being. "
92﹕ sender silently and angrily points receiver towards the door .
"We're stuck." He knew there were sell some repairs left but he questioned if all had been built back like it should've been. For now, the handle of the door sat snapped off on the ground. What was left standing had no leverage to be pulled. "Unless we can manage to break it."
nonverbal prompts | accepting!
morion has noted that some parts of the monastery are, to be frank, more well-maintained than others. his classroom is pretty nice, his office even nicer ( if one ignores all of his papers thrown everywhere )... but some of these general-purpose rooms are just not all there.
today morion was possessed with the need to thoroughly discuss knight tactics; all of this teaching makes him extremely itchy for battle, so the next best thing besides throwing hands with randoms is to talk one of the knights' ears off about what they've been doing lately. he's done this to the point that some regulars know when and why he approaches. a bit of a local legend, he is. the man he's pulled aside today is not someone he is familiar with, however---he doesn't recognize the hair nor his sullen face. is he new? he'll have to ask alcryst about it.
" c'mere, " he'd said, waving into a meeting room. " i got some stuff i wanna ask about. "
***
a good hour and a half of morion-led gabbing later, it's just about time for him to get back to his classroom. " thanks for lettin' me yap, " he says, laughing, as his hand grips the door handle. " i'll let'cha get on your way. "
and then the door handle came off. pretty sure it's not supposed to do that.
morion blinks and drops the handle, listening to it clatter stupidly against the floor. a preliminary look-over tells him that yup, that door sure did break. and there sure is no other way to open it. looking around tells him that there are no other doors. juuuuust great.
his compatriot states the obvious: " we're stuck. " morion grunts in agreement. worse still, this isn't exactly a place a lot of people frequent---it's in some corridor down a lesser-used hall. this isn't really an ideal place to have a door handle break.
well, morion's got class soon and he hates being late ( mostly because he gives his students shit if they're late, so if he's late, then that's a whole ordeal ). also, this poor knight guy's probably got something he needs to do, too. so while his fellow captive grouses about the door, pointing to the busted handle, morion simply winds his fist back and delivers a punch to it so hard that it splinters a perfect hole straight through the middle. thank the dragons that there weren't any students in the way.
he looks back. his face is indifferent but he's trying not to smile. " this, uh... this ain't gonna get me written up, is it? "
𝟏𝟎𝟎 𝑵𝑶𝑵𝑽𝑬𝑹𝑩𝑨𝑳 𝑷𝑹𝑶𝑴𝑷𝑻𝑺 . ( a collection of 100 nonverbal action prompts . mature and potentially triggering themes are present . add “ + reverse ” to swap assigned roles . )
∗ o1﹕ sender tucks hair out of receiver’s face . ∗ o2﹕ sender offers receiver a bite from their fork . ∗ o3﹕ sender places their feet / legs in receiver's lap . ∗ o4﹕ sender offers receiver an earbud to share their music . ∗ o5﹕ sender comforts receiver in the aftermath of a nightmare . ∗ o6﹕ sender gives receiver company in the hospital . ∗ o7﹕ sender wraps their arms around a hysterical receiver to calm them . ∗ o8﹕ sender shows up at receiver’s home late at night . ∗ o9﹕ sender falls asleep leaning against receiver . ∗ 1o﹕ sender wields a [ gun / knife ] at receiver . ∗ 11﹕ sender runs their fingers through receiver’s hair . ∗ 12﹕ sender invites receiver to dance . ∗ 13﹕ sender takes a [ picture / video ] of receiver . ∗ 14﹕ sender places their head in receiver’s lap . ∗ 15﹕ sender and receiver make eye contact across a busy room . ∗ 16﹕ sender pushes receiver against a wall to kiss them . ∗ 17﹕ sender and receiver cook together . ∗ 18﹕ sender comes to receiver after being injured . ∗ 19﹕ sender sits in receiver’s lap . ∗ 2o﹕ sender lifts receiver's chin , invoking eye contact . ∗ 21﹕ sender overtakes receiver in combat . ∗ 22﹕ sender finds receiver [ injured / bloodied ] . ∗ 23﹕ sender straightens an article of receiver’s clothes . ∗ 24﹕ sender crawls into bed with receiver . ∗ 25﹕ sender rolls their eyes at receiver . ∗ 26﹕ sender lights receiver’s [ cigarette / joint ] . ∗ 27﹕ sender is caught wearing receiver's clothes . ∗ 28﹕ sender strikes receiver with a pillow . ∗ 29﹕ sender writes a note on receiver’s skin : [ note ] . ∗ 3o﹕ sender wraps a blanket around receiver’s shoulders . ∗ 31﹕ sender runs and jumps into receiver’s arms . ∗ 32﹕ sender shoves receiver out of anger . ∗ 33﹕ sender hovers over receiver’s shoulder as they complete a task . ∗ 34﹕ sender is found by receiver somewhere they shouldn’t be . ∗ 35﹕ sender curls up against receiver in their sleep . ∗ 36﹕ sender is found drunk by receiver . ∗ 37﹕ sender throws an item of sentiment bitterly at receiver . ∗ 38﹕ sender joins receiver in the shower . ∗ 39﹕ sender is caught following receiver . ∗ 4o﹕ sender traces one of receiver’s [ scars / bruises ] . ∗ 41﹕ sender twines their fingers with receiver’s . ∗ 42﹕ sender barges into receiver’s home unannounced . ∗ 43﹕ sender kicks receiver’s shin beneath a table . ∗ 44﹕ sender aggressively shoves past receiver . ∗ 45﹕ sender kisses receiver’s [ forehead / cheek ] . ∗ 46﹕ sender pulls receiver out of harm’s way . ∗ 47﹕ sender is found sobbing by receiver . ∗ 48﹕ sender locks receiver out of their room . ∗ 49﹕ sender brings receiver [ coffee / tea ] in the morning . ∗ 5o﹕ sender rests their forehead against receiver’s . ∗ 51﹕ sender plays a song for receiver that reminds them of them : [ song ] . ∗ 52﹕ sender takes a [ punch / stab / bullet ] meant for receiver . ∗ 53﹕ sender buys receiver a drink at a bar . ∗ 54﹕ sender needs receiver’s help getting in the bath . ∗ 55﹕ sender and receiver cross paths in the kitchen late at night . ∗ 56﹕ sender twists receiver’s arm behind their back . ∗ 57﹕ sender winks at receiver . ∗ 58﹕ sender is found collapsed by receiver . ∗ 59﹕ sender prevents an injured receiver from getting up . ∗ 6o﹕ sender claps a hand over receiver’s mouth to silence them . ∗ 61﹕ sender cages receiver against a [ wall / the floor ] with their arms . ∗ 62﹕ sender storms away from receiver during an argument . ∗ 63﹕ sender is found by receiver sleeping in receiver’s bed . ∗ 64﹕ sender [ applies / touches up ] receiver’s makeup . ∗ 65﹕ sender throws receiver into a wall during combat . ∗ 66﹕ sender dances sensually with receiver . ∗ 67﹕ sender strikes receiver across the face . ∗ 68﹕ sender places their hand on receiver’s leg while driving . ∗ 69﹕ sender pulls a chair out from under receiver . ∗ 7o﹕ sender catches receiver’s wrist when they turn to leave . ∗ 71﹕ sender leaves an intimate mark on receiver . ∗ 72﹕ sender beats receiver in a video game . ∗ 73﹕ sender and receiver stand in stunned silence after a fight . ∗ 74﹕ sender cares for receiver while they’re sick . ∗ 75﹕ sender and receiver go on a hike . ∗ 76﹕ sender is caught snooping in receiver’s things . ∗ 77﹕ sender and receiver cuddle while watching television . ∗ 78﹕ sender throws something aggressively at receiver . ∗ 79﹕ sender creeps up behind receiver to scare them . ∗ 8o﹕ sender and receiver go shopping together . ∗ 81﹕ sender helps receiver [ dye / style ] their hair . ∗ 82﹕ sender draws receiver into a kiss by the back of their neck . ∗ 83﹕ sender is discovered having a panic attack by receiver . ∗ 84﹕ sender accidentally injures receiver during sparring . ∗ 85﹕ sender grabs receiver roughly by the hair . ∗ 86﹕ sender brings receiver to their knees during combat . ∗ 87﹕ sender shows receiver evidence of a lie they told . ∗ 88﹕ sender winks [ seductively / mockingly ] at receiver . ∗ 89﹕ sender yells at receiver to put their hands in the air . ∗ 9o﹕ sender helps receiver patch up a wound . ∗ 91﹕ sender holds receiver as they cry . ∗ 92﹕ sender silently and angrily points receiver towards the door . ∗ 93﹕ sender gestures for receiver to sit down . ∗ 94﹕ sender pulls receiver into their lap . ∗ 95﹕ sender cradles receiver’s face . ∗ 96﹕ sender tackles receiver out of the way of danger . ∗ 97﹕ sender has hidden an injury from receiver , and receiver finds out . ∗ 98﹕ sender confronts receiver about their unhealthy behavior . ∗ 99﹕ sender proposes to receiver . ∗ 1oo﹕ sender has just died , receiver finds out .
a brodian line of thinking
mission board: distress [ no point ]
Diamant nods, instinctively falling in line at his father's command. It was so easy to fall into the sway of King Morion's natural authority, swathed in his father's shadow as he had been, ever since birth. But Diamant had to remember that he was the king now. He was the leader. His father no longer had any authority over him.
...If only that thought didn't feel so daunting. Blasphemous, even.
Axe held at the ready, Diamant runs his eyes over the approaching wave of bandits. They came in droves, all wearing different banners and colors, if not nondescript rags entirely. But when he cross-references this group with the ones who'd come before...
"I'll need our third platoon of swordsmen to head west."
One foot soldier grunts with confusion, "But, sir, the enemy is right in front—"
"That's why you're headed west. Draw their attention, and pull some of their focus away from our main force. Don't worry about manpower. We have enough."
The soldier salutes, "A-Ah, right. We head west, men!"
With that order dispensed, the young king holds up his free hand, signaling to the archers hidden in the trees.
"On my call, fire to where I point!" He commands, gesturing not to the group of bandits charging their way, but a dense patch of forest to the east. There were no visible enemies in that area, and yet...
Crimson eyes shift to Brodia's former king. "Father, keep up what you're doing. I'm confident you can handle a few more waves, which should buy us a solid distraction." Diamant's eyes then flicker to that eastern patch of forest again. He'd noticed it after a bit of thinking—though the bandits came from all corners of the perimeter, there were a higher frequency of them trailing in from that area.
Dense forest. Filtered attacks. An otherwise unsuspecting appearance... the ideal place for a coward to hide in wait.
"Unless," he turns back to his father, smirking, "You're tired?"
morion sits back and listens with pride as diamant doles out commands to the soldiers. this is one of those special moments, he thinks, that he never could have experienced were it not for his odd revival---doing drills and mock-battles were one thing, but to hear his son enact his duties as a true king! ahh, he's going to be giddy about this for weeks.
he does have to stop himself from smacking a back-talking soldier on the back of the head. it's not in his hands anymore.
his focus turns to where diamant points: a forested area to the east of their group. he'd noticed a steady stream of bandits pouring from behind the trees but had said nothing; hey, he's just a teacher. that's none of his business. theoretically. really, he'd just wanted to see diamant do it. it's the perfect place to make others do your bidding from! it's a no-brainer... but it's for that exact reason that it's a terrible place to pitch camp. morion grins.
and grins wider, because even during all this his son's got the audacity to sass him. " boy, " he growls, clenching the metal handle of his axe, " you'd better watch that tongue. "
morion springs back to the front lines per his commander's instruction, beginning his assault with a brutal slice that takes down three men in a line. damnation, these brigands are completely useless! any smart man would know not to group up when the giant man comes with his axe... or maybe they're just not good enough to coordinate themselves. either way, morion win, badguy lose.
he fights to clear a path towards the forest---as any good knight ought for their king. or father for their son, really. he keeps a keen eye out, watching, waiting for whatever it is that diamant orders him to do next.
