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Game of Thrones Daily
JBB: An Artblog!
occasionally subtle
Origami Around
roma★
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Jules of Nature
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Mike Driver
Xuebing Du
Not today Justin
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
sheepfilms
祝日 / Permanent Vacation
ojovivo
DEAR READER
Claire Keane
taylor price
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@scionset
𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐈 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐏𝐑𝐀𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐍 𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐔𝐀𝐆𝐄. // Hello and welcome to my blog! I am 𝐖𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐇 (they/them) and this is my PRIVATE, SELECTIVE, LOW ACTIVITY roleplay and writing blog for a multitude of muses from Final Fantasy XIV including 𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐈𝐎𝐍, 𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐔, 𝐋𝐘𝐍𝐀, 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐊𝐑𝐈𝐋𝐄 (And others!), hope you enjoy your stay!
RULES - MUSE LIST
***BLOG IS NOT SPOILER FREE, CAUGHT UP WITH THE END OF ENDWALKER
𝐈 𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒, 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐈 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐈𝐓 𝐌𝐄𝐀𝐍𝐒.
ffxiv graphic meme — [ 3 / 5 ] npcs
meteion / endsinger —Greetings and salutations! Can you hear me? Do not be alarmed—I mean you no harm. I wish only to hear your words, share your feelings, and know your thoughts. May we please be friends?
Like this post for a short starter from LYNA ( Will be operating under the presumption that your muse is on the First.)
Like this post for a short starter from FEO UL ( Will be operating under the presumption that your muse is on the First. However if your muse isn’t from the First, cannot get there, etc. These will run on the assumption that Feo Ul is on the Source. )
starters / prompts taken from hieu minh nguyen’s work , not here . feel free to change pronouns / tenses as necessary .
❛ it seems important to mention all the things that went wrong ❜
❛ don’t ask if i’m a ghost ❜
❛ i fled and did not return ❜
❛ i cannot love you , if i love you , i will die ❜
❛ for years i chose death ❜
❛ i belong to my mother’s fear ❜
❛ what do you do with tenderness when all you expect is fury ? ❜
❛ he looks like he will keep you safe ❜
❛ any love i find will be treason ❜
❛ why did you bring me here ? ❜
❛ i count the hornets that escape their mouths ❜
❛ i only ask for your laughter ❜
❛ look at me in the old way in this new light ❜
❛ sometimes i wake up and my body does not follow ❜
❛ it wasn’t the same without you ❜
❛ i’m still trying to figure out what it means to stay ❜
❛ it’s all very predictable ❜
❛ how can i love something that isn’t ruined ? ❜
❛ like all agony , there are pleasant moments ❜
❛ i want to be better at lying ❜
❛ i’m afraid if i say it out loud i will cast a curse ❜
❛ some men don’t know they’re hungry until they eat ❜
❛ some spells take years to cast ❜
❛ there are rules you have to follow if you want to survive ❜
❛ i know you’re not supposed to smile back ❜
❛ madness , too , can be cumulative ❜
❛ trying to forget is not the same as leaving ❜
❛ i really should get a sense of humor ❜
❛ i understand no one ❜
❛ i cannot stop him from disappearing ❜
❛ her body was a dress i hung for motivation ❜
❛ you were once and perhaps continue to be the myth you tell to scare yourself ❜
❛ there are countless ways to justify company ❜
❛ you are predictable in your longing ❜
❛ i don’t want to explain a thing ❜
❛ i knew if i just asked him to leave he would have ❜
❛ there are countless ways to open a carcass ❜
❛ all i’ve ever wanted to be was useful ❜
❛ there’s still time to be saved ❜
❛ shut up ; i know the story , or at least the lesson ❜
❛ you wont find it ; you won’t find whatever you’re looking for ❜
❛ i could get away with being clumsy with knives ❜
❛ i want to study the mechanics of leaving ❜
❛ any adjective can be true if you cry hard enough ❜
❛ i see little futures in the distance but none belong ❜
❛ i am beginning to forget what i expect from the world i always knew ❜
❛ you can’t think of regret as a town you move too when grief snores too loud ❜
❛ in death we belong to everyone ❜
❛ i want to return to my old body ❜
❛ i think the life i want is the life i have , but how can i be sure ? ❜
starters / prompts taken from hieu minh nguyen’s work , not here . feel free to change pronouns / tenses as necessary .
❛ it seems important to mention all the things that went wrong ❜
❛ don’t ask if i’m a ghost ❜
❛ i fled and did not return ❜
❛ i cannot love you , if i love you , i will die ❜
❛ for years i chose death ❜
❛ i belong to my mother’s fear ❜
❛ what do you do with tenderness when all you expect is fury ? ❜
❛ he looks like he will keep you safe ❜
❛ any love i find will be treason ❜
❛ why did you bring me here ? ❜
❛ i count the hornets that escape their mouths ❜
❛ i only ask for your laughter ❜
❛ look at me in the old way in this new light ❜
❛ sometimes i wake up and my body does not follow ❜
❛ it wasn’t the same without you ❜
❛ i’m still trying to figure out what it means to stay ❜
❛ it’s all very predictable ❜
❛ how can i love something that isn’t ruined ? ❜
❛ like all agony , there are pleasant moments ❜
❛ i want to be better at lying ❜
❛ i’m afraid if i say it out loud i will cast a curse ❜
❛ some men don’t know they’re hungry until they eat ❜
❛ some spells take years to cast ❜
❛ there are rules you have to follow if you want to survive ❜
❛ i know you’re not supposed to smile back ❜
❛ madness , too , can be cumulative ❜
❛ trying to forget is not the same as leaving ❜
❛ i really should get a sense of humor ❜
❛ i understand no one ❜
❛ i cannot stop him from disappearing ❜
❛ her body was a dress i hung for motivation ❜
❛ you were once and perhaps continue to be the myth you tell to scare yourself ❜
❛ there are countless ways to justify company ❜
❛ you are predictable in your longing ❜
❛ i don’t want to explain a thing ❜
❛ i knew if i just asked him to leave he would have ❜
❛ there are countless ways to open a carcass ❜
❛ all i’ve ever wanted to be was useful ❜
❛ there’s still time to be saved ❜
❛ shut up ; i know the story , or at least the lesson ❜
❛ you wont find it ; you won’t find whatever you’re looking for ❜
❛ i could get away with being clumsy with knives ❜
❛ i want to study the mechanics of leaving ❜
❛ any adjective can be true if you cry hard enough ❜
❛ i see little futures in the distance but none belong ❜
❛ i am beginning to forget what i expect from the world i always knew ❜
❛ you can’t think of regret as a town you move too when grief snores too loud ❜
❛ in death we belong to everyone ❜
❛ i want to return to my old body ❜
❛ i think the life i want is the life i have , but how can i be sure ? ❜
Lyna
Because I am a terrible rper and I leave things way too long and then they get outdated and I get overwhelmed, I am going to be scrapping everything in my drafts / inbox and starting fresh things to get the writing juices flowing again. (This goes for all three of my blogs, @/curecify and @/scionset as well!)
the best smile of ishgard
Sadu Dotharl, as voted by my Patrons!
Had a lot of fun experimenting with this piece and trying new brushes.
You can vote a character for me to draw every month and see the process for this one and more pieces on my Patreon! ✩
Since i had a funny dream about him the other day, I HAD to draw him. (no thats just an excuse, I love him he deserves fanart)
Like this post for a “Short starter” I say churning out the biggest fuckin paragraphs known to man.
Puts on my dunce cap
@tayun || S.C --- ( FEO UL )
𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐍𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐁𝐈𝐆 𝐄𝐍𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇 𝐓𝐎 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐇𝐈𝐌. Not yours or any others, no, the kingdoms of man scarcely knew what to do with him and all the same you watch him struggle for them anyway. No prize big enough past salvation to reward him. Mortals were a fascinating bunch, all conquest and compassion in the same breath. Lives so short and filled with so much turbulence. You were unlike your kind in that you delighted in the entertainment of it all, such conviction and such zeal. You didn’t plan on growing attached. YOUR SAPLING. So foolish and so stubborn, heartless that he should forget you in pivotal moments, and yet . . . no mortal can compare. For all the short and beautiful little lives they live, this one is special. So much blood and all for others causes, so much strife and all to ease the burden on others shoulders. In the beginning, you didn’t understand why, but time revealed all you’d need to see. The answer was love. This sapling of yours, was love. And yet why should he have to suffer? Why, why, why? Why your sapling and not others, the cruel handed ones, the un-fun ones, the ones who carry carnage and war and don’t love like he does, THEY should be the ones to suffer, not your sapling. No kingdom of man can repay him for all he does, and no kingdom of fae can give him what he needs. But your hands remain extended all the same, palms open for the day when life has asked too much and your sapling wilts, then he may find respite in your halls, take your crown and be free of pain.
But oh your sapling would never, would he. . . He would make you watch as he bleeds and toils and struggles, make your heart hurt and strain as you watch his skin bruise while his smile never falters. What a cruel, cruel mortal he is. YOU CANNOT BEAR TO WATCH HIM DIE. Not when you are worlds away, in another shard, and you cannot reach.
He steps into the First, boot fall for little more then mere moments when you peel the veil of stars and skies apart to appear before him in a chime and a wave of your upset fists --
“ HEARTLESS! HEARTLESS SAPLING!! You never visit your precious branch anymore, reckless, endangering! Do you have any idea how many times you’ve gotten injured since you last came to visit? COUNTLESS! ” For all the dramatics do you soften, how this mortal has turned your claws to caresses. All your bite lessens when you look into his eyes, catch a glimpse of the hope everyone else sees in him.
“ You do so much for others, it’s already enough. Stop trying to do so much more, my sapling, you are only mortal, and I cannot always be there when you are so far from me. You are bad for my poor, poor heart, bad bad bad! . . . Promise me you will remember to take care of yourself too, Una’a. ”
@simulvcra || S.C --- ( KRILE )
𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐋𝐄𝐆𝐀𝐂𝐘, 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐁𝐋𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐌𝐄𝐋𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆. You are not them. Risen up by titles and hopes, a pedestal made of glass, held aloft by the shaking hands of a world that cried out for salvation and chose their champion. They are ichor gold and spun silver, always a pillar above where you can reach. For all the weight pressing down on their shoulders, they are unwavering. You can only imagine how daunting that must be. And how lonely. Even among peers, they are expected to lead. You remember flipping pages in story books in your youth, remember the tales of heroes and how they rise, they are never willing, always chosen. You remember being sad on their behalf. Now you stand, not in pages but in life, chasing their lengthening shadow, hoping SOMETHING you do will be enough to take that weight, to lighten the darker shade beneath their eyes. You don’t want to see them destroyed, as history tends to do with heroes. LET THEM LIVE, you plea into clasped hands with little more then the audience of stars to bare witness, speaking to a god who does not reach you like she reaches them. You have stood in hallowed halls, endured the agony of torture, shed tears at too many headstones, and picked up legacies you can never hope to fill. You are not your grandfather, you are not Minfillia either. You can only hope that it is enough. It never is.
Your hands fall between the stillness of not being able to do enough, and the busy work of doing everything you can. A sprint and a standstill. You have stood so long at Dante’s back you have memorized the patterns on the back of their coat, the sound of their boots as they walk away. Spent long enough looking at the back of cascading hair you know every flow of it. Hands curling into fists and uncurling again. You have never felt so useless in life, then watching them like this. But if your place is behind them, you won’t let your hands go idle now. From chair to table, as uncouth as it might be to stand on, you make your way to sit on the edge of it’s wooden surface, run your fingers through a waterfall of moonlight and brush stay strands into a winding braid, letting all the silent love and care you can muster be your voice, let it say what you cannot.
-- Taking a moment to reach, pull the pink ribbon from your own hair, from holding it aloft beneath canary yellow hood, in a flow of honey brown to tie the end of theirs in a neat little bow. Holding it for a moment longer then need be in your hands, eyes memorizing every curve of it, blush against silver. LET THIS GO WITH YOU WHERE I CAN’T. LET THIS HOLD YOU TOGETHER.
“ I thought your hair could use a braid, might it keep out of your way then while you work. It’s lovely, truly. It must have taken you such a long time to grow out. . . ”
@herfights || S.C --- ( TATARU )
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐘 𝐑𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐖𝐍 𝐖𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐁𝐄𝐘𝐎𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐒 an adieu bid and a promise to return in the morn. When the sun will rise again, bathe the world warm in golden light, the wheels of time ever turning. Or at least, you can HOPE so. You are not like your companions, fragile of bone and gentle of hand, yours is the heart that mends. For all that you have tried to take up arms and stand next to HER, you are not the call of combat and the sting of fists. The best you can offer is the comfort of forgetting the little details, that saving the world may be less a burden if she needn’t be balancing books and mending holes in torn clothes. Keeping the world turning in normalcy to remind her that beyond the GRIEF and the VIOLENCE, the sands of time still shift, and the SUN STILL RISES.
Lately you have heard them say the sky runs alight with red fire. You wonder how much longer that comfort of dawn will remain. You have seen her to the edge of the shore, the ship you cannot sail yourself, over uncharted waters beyond a horizon you can’t see. And you have waited, ever diligent for her to COME HOME. You can only hope that this won’t be the last you see her off. WHAT MORE CAN YOU DO?
The small clatter of ceramic and porcelain, cups on saucers and spoons on plates. You find her, tray in hand, and step through the haze of her thoughts to set your prize on the table. It’s not much, it never is. But you will bring her your best, until the day she no longer needs it.
“ I thought you could use some tea and a snack. It’s been a long day and I know you should be heading to bed soon, but I figured it might be a nice way to wind down! I hope you don’t mind. ”
Altaani’s unsundered ancient form created otters and you’re all welcome.
