@theartofmadeline
The Stonewall Inn
Game Changer & Make Some Noise
macklin celebrini has autism
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
noise dept.
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Kiana Khansmith
bliss lane
Phantogram Three
izzy's playlists!
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Aqua Utopia｜海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
almost home
Keni
The Bright Sessions
The Bowery Presents
art blog(derogatory)
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
seen from Croatia
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seen from Germany
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seen from Bangladesh
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@rowan-pinewood
INDIE OC // MEDIEVAL // HIGH FANTASY // LOW FANTASY // EPIC FANTASY
𖥧 Rules 𖥧 Memes 𖥧 Open starters 𖥧
TUVE MYRKVED. Hunter, ranger, traveler and seer of inescapable fates.
Pinterest 𖥧 Aesthetics 𖥧 Appearance 𖥧 Text 𖥧 Tunes 𖥧 Wardrobe 𖥧 Headcanons
[ Written by Rowan. Queer, white, 30+, they/them. Follows from multimuse account @rowan-revelry ]
~ Bio under cut ~
Mia Bergeron (American, 1979) - Ancestors (2021)
The Tale of Hidden Roads & Worlds Betwixt yet Right Next Door : Chapter 14 — Lo! Here be dragons
Tuve felt the whirring air of an arrow pass their cheek, and grabbed Malus just moments before the other called out. Chucked him down into the ditch, unceremoniously, and threw their heavy backpack off in the same movement. But they only had a second, and in that second did not manage to reach for anything useful - their bow was tied to the backpack, their quiver as well, they had not expected trouble - and suddenly a large man on horseback swung something heavy that struck Myrkved in the shoulder. It knocked the air out of them, and the ordinarily so capable ranger stumbled backwards, tumbling straight after Alway into the muddy water, landing on their back.
Bandits, they thought, dimly. Not a good way to start off a quest.
for @beautiful-mischief
Fingers trembling, Tuve tried to heed Mal's advice. Gave his hand a hard, tight squeeze before untangling their fingers from his.
Deep, unsteady breaths as, together, the two adventurers began to undo the tightly wrapped sleeves of Myrkved's long-sleeved tunic. They dressed down to their undershirt, and then removed that as well, all the way down to their tightly bound chest - baring a shoulder that looked more red than blue, swollen and warm. For now.
They examined it, and almost cried out when their palm brushed over it, squeezing their eyes shut.
"I," they whispered, barely audible. "I... are you...?" Worried gaze searched him, tried to ignore the pain and their own shaky interior.
Loosening a deep breath of his own as in tandem they began to get the seer out of their clothes, supposing later on he might find that there was something amusing to the fact that this was perhaps the fastest they’d ever been willing to disrobe, and at the side of a road no less, Mal braced himself to see what had become of their shoulder as Tuve’s undershirt was removed, wincing sympathetically at the sight of its swollen warmth and trying to swallow down his panic. There was no use in asking whether it hurt, when the hitch in their breath and that almost-cry that slipped free were proof enough.
“I’m fine.” Mal assured, far too accustomed to their ways to be bewildered by the fact that they were asking him if he was okay right now. Hoping to alleviate their fears he gestured to himself with a wry smile, freckled face spattered with dirt. “See? A little muddy, that’s all — but are you going to be alright?” His brow furrowed as he glanced at their shoulder again, hovering uncertainly when he knew so little that was actually useful in times like these. “You’re going to need to rest it…maybe we should find somewhere to stop for the rest of the day rather than pushing onward.”
@rowan-pinewood
Tuve, not talkative on their best day, clamped up. They nodded, jaw flexing, after Mal had assured them of his status and even cracked a little joke. As their first priority - him - dwindled, along with the rush of the battle, the pain began to set in. They nodded, and gestured miserably towards their pack, lying on its side in the ditch. Mal wasn't the only one mud-streaked. Tuve's entire back was dirty, and their backpack wasn't looking much better.
"...help?" they whispered. They didn't think they could carry that right now. And those arrows were probably the last they'd fire in a while.
The Tale of Hidden Roads & Worlds Betwixt yet Right Next Door : Chapter 14 — Lo! Here be dragons
Tuve felt the whirring air of an arrow pass their cheek, and grabbed Malus just moments before the other called out. Chucked him down into the ditch, unceremoniously, and threw their heavy backpack off in the same movement. But they only had a second, and in that second did not manage to reach for anything useful - their bow was tied to the backpack, their quiver as well, they had not expected trouble - and suddenly a large man on horseback swung something heavy that struck Myrkved in the shoulder. It knocked the air out of them, and the ordinarily so capable ranger stumbled backwards, tumbling straight after Alway into the muddy water, landing on their back.
Bandits, they thought, dimly. Not a good way to start off a quest.
for @beautiful-mischief
Fingers trembling, Tuve tried to heed Mal's advice. Gave his hand a hard, tight squeeze before untangling their fingers from his.
Deep, unsteady breaths as, together, the two adventurers began to undo the tightly wrapped sleeves of Myrkved's long-sleeved tunic. They dressed down to their undershirt, and then removed that as well, all the way down to their tightly bound chest - baring a shoulder that looked more red than blue, swollen and warm. For now.
They examined it, and almost cried out when their palm brushed over it, squeezing their eyes shut.
"I," they whispered, barely audible. "I... are you...?" Worried gaze searched him, tried to ignore the pain and their own shaky interior.
what colour is your aura?
orchid
blooming flowers, butterflies, sunsets, text messages, hair dye, auroras, neon lights. your essence is orchid: you are the brightest smile and strongest heart. you inspire those around you; unconsciously, you exist for their purpose, not your own. continue to seek the limelight though do not lie just for their applause. you are the host. you are the performer. you find kinship in like-minded individuals of lavender, amethyst, pink, and purple, who share your boldness. you are also drawn to the practical wine and chiffon, who will help you grow and let you take things one step at a time. however, you may struggle to get along with the analytical personalities of chartreuse and honey who don't get swept up in your ambitions.
stolen from @laperlina
tagging @hearthtales @kingcenred @rowan-agarwood @rowan-pinewood @rowan-blackberrythicket @enspelled and you!
Chiffon
stone walls, sweaters, moths, dusty lace, animal tracks, incense, throw pillows. your essence is chiffon: your soft heart disarms those who meet you. you willingly swallow your feelings for everyone else; it is easier to hide your sensitivity. you may be a mirror, reflecting the best back at others, and not knowing quite who you are inside. you are the compromiser. you are the recaster. you find kinship in like-minded individuals of ashen, hickory, brown, and grey, who act with patience. you are also drawn to the cheerful orchid and honey, who will help you grow and discover what actually makes you happy. however, you may struggle to get along with the wild-hearted personalities of mauve and terracotta who act on their whims.
Interior of a Forest (Alexandre Calame, 1850)
Alexander Pavlovich Afonin - "The Island Is Marvelous"
CLAIRE FRASER IN OUTLANDER SEASON 7
7.01 "A Life Well Lost"
The Tale of Hidden Roads & Worlds Betwixt yet Right Next Door : Chapter 14 — Lo! Here be dragons
Tuve felt the whirring air of an arrow pass their cheek, and grabbed Malus just moments before the other called out. Chucked him down into the ditch, unceremoniously, and threw their heavy backpack off in the same movement. But they only had a second, and in that second did not manage to reach for anything useful - their bow was tied to the backpack, their quiver as well, they had not expected trouble - and suddenly a large man on horseback swung something heavy that struck Myrkved in the shoulder. It knocked the air out of them, and the ordinarily so capable ranger stumbled backwards, tumbling straight after Alway into the muddy water, landing on their back.
Bandits, they thought, dimly. Not a good way to start off a quest.
for @beautiful-mischief
Tuve's blood was thundering in their ears. The yelps and grunts of the ongoing scuffle felt far away, as they drew their second arrow, tried to smooth out the desperate panting fluttering at their throat.
They had to make a decision. Right now, they had to make a decision. Tuve wasn't skilled at the quick and instinctive; they prefered the slow hunt, the thoughtful trap, the clever scheme. But there was no time.
When the ranger finally emerged from behind the pine tree, their eyes were hard. A third arrow buried itself somewhere to their right, an unsteady arch that had it lost somewhere in the bush, no doubt due to Mal's tackle. This and the theft - the bandit cried out! - gave Tuve enough time to aim, and take action.
In quick succession, Myrkved's own, green fletched arrows found their targets, four drawn and shot like water with uncanny precision. The first buried itself into the cloak of a man, nailing him to the ground, making him fall; the second caught the robber Malus' had ran headfirst into in the leg, had him cry out and keel over. The third struck a horse's flank, and made it gave a panicked, strangled sound before setting off, careening. A fourth caught the enemy ranger, robbed of his quiver, squarely through an arm; pain that he bit down on.
At this point, the leader hanging back whistled, moving his animal forward in order to pick up his own, now wounded, archer onto his horseback and retreat - whatever coin these two wanderers had it wasn't worth losing lives over. And lives were often lost when longbows were involved.
There had been many times where Mal had found himself grateful for his travel companion’s competence, but he was certain this was where it had paid off most. It all happened so quickly — one minute he was backing away from a towering brute with an armful of red-feathered arrows and the next said brute was felled, clutching at his leg with a hissed out curse, four perfectly precise shots dispersing the chaos and sending the troupe of bandits retreating into the wood.
Blinking as if in a daze, impressed and vaguely bewildered by just how quickly the seer had turned the tide, Mal loosened a soft breath of relief as he spotted them with bow in hand, waiting till the hoofbeats faded into the distance before returning to their side. It was dizzying just how suddenly the rush of fear and adrenaline began to ebb, the frantic thundering of his heart finally beginning to slow.
“Gods, I thought we were done for.” He breathed, glancing down at the arrows in his hands with a self-deprecating chuckle and offering them towards the ranger, a flicker of worry crossing his expression as he recalled them getting knocked down into the ditch. “Is your shoulder alright?”
@rowan-pinewood
Tuve's face was pale and strained. Still hot from fear and anger - or whatever the strange concotion in their heart was made out of - they blinked, sharply, then turned wide eyes to their companion. Still with an arrow position on the string, they slowly let the tension of the bow go, until it became slack.
Almost methodically, they slung their weapon over their shoulder, then moved to sit down - a little unsteady - on a nearby, lichen-spotted stone. With a hand raised in apology, they faced away from him, and vomited.
Their head spun. From terror. From pain. From injuring another, who knows how badly - if the wounds would fester - if the men would be hurt for the rest of their lives, limping or having a hard time drawing back their own bow string. When you hunted deer, you always went for a clean shot; had it been merciless of them to not do the same with prey on two legs?
Having walked for a long time on an empty stomach, nothing much came up. Just bitter bile. As the rush of the fight began to ebb, their shoulder started throbbing, stiffening. Drawing a deep breath, they began to undo the straps and buttons of their tunic.
The Tale of Hidden Roads & Worlds Betwixt yet Right Next Door : Chapter 14 — Lo! Here be dragons
Tuve felt the whirring air of an arrow pass their cheek, and grabbed Malus just moments before the other called out. Chucked him down into the ditch, unceremoniously, and threw their heavy backpack off in the same movement. But they only had a second, and in that second did not manage to reach for anything useful - their bow was tied to the backpack, their quiver as well, they had not expected trouble - and suddenly a large man on horseback swung something heavy that struck Myrkved in the shoulder. It knocked the air out of them, and the ordinarily so capable ranger stumbled backwards, tumbling straight after Alway into the muddy water, landing on their back.
Bandits, they thought, dimly. Not a good way to start off a quest.
for @beautiful-mischief
Tuve's blood was thundering in their ears. The yelps and grunts of the ongoing scuffle felt far away, as they drew their second arrow, tried to smooth out the desperate panting fluttering at their throat.
They had to make a decision. Right now, they had to make a decision. Tuve wasn't skilled at the quick and instinctive; they prefered the slow hunt, the thoughtful trap, the clever scheme. But there was no time.
When the ranger finally emerged from behind the pine tree, their eyes were hard. A third arrow buried itself somewhere to their right, an unsteady arch that had it lost somewhere in the bush, no doubt due to Mal's tackle. This and the theft - the bandit cried out! - gave Tuve enough time to aim, and take action.
In quick succession, Myrkved's own, green fletched arrows found their targets, four drawn and shot like water with uncanny precision. The first buried itself into the cloak of a man, nailing him to the ground, making him fall; the second caught the robber Malus' had ran headfirst into in the leg, had him cry out and keel over. The third struck a horse's flank, and made it gave a panicked, strangled sound before setting off, careening. A fourth caught the enemy ranger, robbed of his quiver, squarely through an arm; pain that he bit down on.
At this point, the leader hanging back whistled, moving his animal forward in order to pick up his own, now wounded, archer onto his horseback and retreat - whatever coin these two wanderers had it wasn't worth losing lives over. And lives were often lost when longbows were involved.
July Afternoon (1897) by Guy Rose
The Tale of Hidden Roads & Worlds Betwixt yet Right Next Door : Chapter 14 — Lo! Here be dragons
Tuve felt the whirring air of an arrow pass their cheek, and grabbed Malus just moments before the other called out. Chucked him down into the ditch, unceremoniously, and threw their heavy backpack off in the same movement. But they only had a second, and in that second did not manage to reach for anything useful - their bow was tied to the backpack, their quiver as well, they had not expected trouble - and suddenly a large man on horseback swung something heavy that struck Myrkved in the shoulder. It knocked the air out of them, and the ordinarily so capable ranger stumbled backwards, tumbling straight after Alway into the muddy water, landing on their back.
Bandits, they thought, dimly. Not a good way to start off a quest.
for @beautiful-mischief
Tuve had warned them that this journey would not be an easy one, and as he landed ungainly in a damp, muddy ditch that carried the unpleasant stench of stagnant water Mal wondered for the first time since leaving Cathamere whether he ought to have heeded those warnings.
Their heavy pack narrowly missed the good gardener as it was tossed unceremoniously down into the ditch after him, clattering as it went, but there were currently worse things to worry about than that as arrows whistled overhead and the thunder of hoofbeats drew closer, then the sound of something heavy colliding with what he presumed to be the seer themself as they went tumbling down on their back beside him, a startled yelp of their name slipping free as Mal scrabbled on to hands and knees and crawled over to them, eyes wide.
“Fuck — are you alright?” He dared not peek out of the ditch itself, though not particularly blessed in the way of sheer survival instincts he at least had the sense to keep his head down, but it sounded like there were more hooves approaching on that once blissfully empty dirt road — far bigger problems than just the mud seeping into his clothes, it seemed.
@rowan-pinewood
Tuve grunted something unintelligible in response, struggling to get back on their feet, shoulder hot and blood feverish enough for the hurt to not quite reach them. Their feet slipped in mud, they tried to dig at their pack, get to that stupidly secure bow, while handing Malus the wood axe they always kept in their belt.
"C-car-careful," they managed, finally, through chattering teeth.
While capable, violence in close quarters was not, at all, Tuve's forté. They finally got bow and arrows free, slung the quiver over their shoulder, and tried to desperately decide whether to stay by Malus' side or try to find a better vantage point to return fire.
Heart rabbiting in his chest as Tuve’s wood axe was pressed into his hands, Mal paled beneath the smudge of mud on his cheek at the thought of genuinely having to use it, floundering as he watched the seer untie their bow and quiver with nimble fingers, every movement swift and well-practiced as they readied themself for a fight. They had taught him a lot in Cathamere when magic had proved less than fruitful, traps and disarming and even how to use their bow himself should the opportunity ever present itself— but their lessons hadn’t been anything like this, and all at once he feared he was woefully unprepared to put them into practice.
“Go higher if you need to.” He whispered, watching their eyes wander as he clutched at the handle of the axe, unwilling to hold them back with his inexperience as he met their gaze, knowing that if there was one thing he was certain of it was his trust in them. “Just be carefu — ah!”
“Found one!”
Pain bloomed across Mal’s scalp and his breath caught as rough hands fisted themselves in his hair and grabbed at the back of his shirt, hauling him up out of the ditch with terrifying ease, the bandit’s gleeful cackle ringing in his ears. He yelped and kicked and squirmed in his hold, thrashing and hissing like an alley cat, nails digging in to the wooden handle of the axe like he refused to relinquish it — the axe. It wasn’t quite the sharp end, but it didn’t have to be as he shoved the blunt end of the handle backwards with every ounce of force he had, the good gardener’s relief short lived at the winded whoosh of breath that he knocked out of his assailant as he was unceremoniously dropped like a hot coal, gasping as he hit the dirt road hard enough to briefly knock the wind out of him.
@rowan-pinewood
Mal understood, wordlessly, what the ranger was asking - but they didn't have time to thank him, or even take his advice. Suddenly there was a fist, and he was being quite literally stolen up and out of that ditch. Tuve gasped, and scrambled after him, nearly catching him by the foot but then missing by being a second too late - and perhaps getting into a tug of war with a gardener in between wasn't the greatest idea anyway.
Instead, Tuve desperately scurried up the other end of the ditch's bank, and began to knock an arrow. They fired the first shot hastily, not drawing back the string properly, but it still struck true and buried itself just in front of a horse who got spooked. It darted away, causing its rider to curse, and for a moment Tuve paused - slowed their breath - tried to understand what was happening.
Five men, all in all. Looking worse for wear, haggard, hungry. People who had nothing and needed everything. One was hanging back, arm draped over his saddle, keeping an eye on the proceedings - another had just dismounted, and gotten struck by Malus' axe.
And a third had just drawn back their own bow string, aiming staight at them. With a hot rush of panic, they darted in behind a tree, just as a red-feathered arrow buried itself into the pinewood trunk with a thud.
The Tale of Hidden Roads & Worlds Betwixt yet Right Next Door : Chapter 14 — Lo! Here be dragons
Tuve felt the whirring air of an arrow pass their cheek, and grabbed Malus just moments before the other called out. Chucked him down into the ditch, unceremoniously, and threw their heavy backpack off in the same movement. But they only had a second, and in that second did not manage to reach for anything useful - their bow was tied to the backpack, their quiver as well, they had not expected trouble - and suddenly a large man on horseback swung something heavy that struck Myrkved in the shoulder. It knocked the air out of them, and the ordinarily so capable ranger stumbled backwards, tumbling straight after Alway into the muddy water, landing on their back.
Bandits, they thought, dimly. Not a good way to start off a quest.
for @beautiful-mischief
Tuve had warned them that this journey would not be an easy one, and as he landed ungainly in a damp, muddy ditch that carried the unpleasant stench of stagnant water Mal wondered for the first time since leaving Cathamere whether he ought to have heeded those warnings.
Their heavy pack narrowly missed the good gardener as it was tossed unceremoniously down into the ditch after him, clattering as it went, but there were currently worse things to worry about than that as arrows whistled overhead and the thunder of hoofbeats drew closer, then the sound of something heavy colliding with what he presumed to be the seer themself as they went tumbling down on their back beside him, a startled yelp of their name slipping free as Mal scrabbled on to hands and knees and crawled over to them, eyes wide.
“Fuck — are you alright?” He dared not peek out of the ditch itself, though not particularly blessed in the way of sheer survival instincts he at least had the sense to keep his head down, but it sounded like there were more hooves approaching on that once blissfully empty dirt road — far bigger problems than just the mud seeping into his clothes, it seemed.
@rowan-pinewood
Tuve grunted something unintelligible in response, struggling to get back on their feet, shoulder hot and blood feverish enough for the hurt to not quite reach them. Their feet slipped in mud, they tried to dig at their pack, get to that stupidly secure bow, while handing Malus the wood axe they always kept in their belt.
"C-car-careful," they managed, finally, through chattering teeth.
While capable, violence in close quarters was not, at all, Tuve's forté. They finally got bow and arrows free, slung the quiver over their shoulder, and tried to desperately decide whether to stay by Malus' side or try to find a better vantage point to return fire.
The Tale of Hidden Roads & Worlds Betwixt yet Right Next Door : Chapter 14 — Lo! Here be dragons
Tuve felt the whirring air of an arrow pass their cheek, and grabbed Malus just moments before the other called out. Chucked him down into the ditch, unceremoniously, and threw their heavy backpack off in the same movement. But they only had a second, and in that second did not manage to reach for anything useful - their bow was tied to the backpack, their quiver as well, they had not expected trouble - and suddenly a large man on horseback swung something heavy that struck Myrkved in the shoulder. It knocked the air out of them, and the ordinarily so capable ranger stumbled backwards, tumbling straight after Alway into the muddy water, landing on their back.
Bandits, they thought, dimly. Not a good way to start off a quest.
for @beautiful-mischief
𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐃 / 𝐌𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐄𝐕𝐀𝐋 𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐒; 𝙿𝚃. 𝟸.
a collection of scenarios & interactions appropriate for period/medieval rp. specify muse where needed, add "FIRST" if this would be their first time interacting, and switch sender/receiver to change roles. + part one.
[ broken solace ] the sender, searching for a quiet area, accidentally disturbs the receiver in their own moment of solace.
[ get off the road! ] the sender knows that some bandits/thieves are coming down the road, and drags the receiver into the nearby brush to protect them.
[ slippery slope ] winter setting! the sender grabs onto the receiver's arm to avoid losing their balance on an icy patch of ground.
[ wild berries ] our muses run into each other whilst one, or both, are picking wild berries.
[ lost my way ] the sender spots the receiver, who seems lost, and approaches to ask if they need help finding their way.
[ STOP ! ] the receiver hears the sender's voice yell out, warning the receiver that they are about to step into an animal trap sender has set.
[ mistaken identity ] the sender approaches the receiver, about to start a conversation, before stopping and saying, "oh, i'm sorry, i thought you were someone else..."
[ can you reach that? ] the shorter of our two muses asks the taller to reach a piece of fruit from a tree, or something from a higher shelf, etc.
[ work for food / board ] the sender asks the receiver if they can work for a hot meal and a place to sleep for the night.
[ ripped and torn ] the receiver has a torn garment, and the sender offers to stitch/repair it for them.
[ hottest day yet ] the sender strips of their clothes and is enjoying a swim to cool off, after a moment they realise they are not alone when they spot the receiver.
[ a storm on the horizon ] dark clouds roll in, the wind picks up, and the receiver hears a knock at their door. the sender is there, asking for shelter as the rain begins.
[ follow the smoke ] the sender follows the sight/smell of smoke, worried a fire may threaten them, and instead comes across the campsite of the receiver.
Midsummer tales // fantasy starter meme
It's almost midsummer over here, and I think it's time for some magic summer prompts. Add REVERSE for role reversal.
[ SEVEN WILD FLOWERS ] Sender collects seven flowers to put under their pillow during midsummer in order to dream of their future beloved. They dream (to their surprise?) about receiver. The next morning the two of them are cleaning up last night's festivities, and sender - nervous! - blurts out that they've dreamed of receiver during the night.
[ WALK OF SILENCE ] Sender and receiver decide to do the Walk of Silence during midsummer eve, where they must circle the village in complete silence despite any faeries or spirits trying to make them laugh or scream - with the hope of finding a treasure at the end of their walk. What happens?
[ HERBS OF HEALING ] Sender is out collecting (magic) herbs and dew during midsummer's eve. Just as they're about to turn back, they stumble upon receiver in a glade, in dire need of healing.
[ WITCH'S BONFIRE ] Receiver is attending the midsummer bonfire meant to ward against witches in the village square, drinking wine and jumping across the flames with everyone else, when they realise that the sender is not in the crowd. Puzzled, they go to seek them out, and find sender crying and incapable of leaving their home - on account of being a witch.
[ MAY POLE ] Sender and receiver dance around the may pole in the dead of night together. They and many others are gripped by midsummer's spell, and end up kissing, perhaps more?
The Ruins of Eden
