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ellievsbear
Acquired Stardust
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Aqua Utopia｜海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
almost home
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🪼
One Nice Bug Per Day
#extradirty
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Xuebing Du
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@sensiblethings
#sensiblethings, an independent, sporadic & (s)low activity, mutuals-only portrayal of blue sargent from the raven cycle universe, adapted into the genre of gothic literature with influences taken from jamaican and welsh folklore + arthurian legend. re-established october 2025. as beloved by jj, twenty5, they/them, southeast asian. guidelines found below the cut. also found at...
⁰¹ˑ info. ⁰²ˑ prompts. ⁰³ˑ sideblog. ⁰⁴ˑ click for gaza.
hi, everyone — there's a tw for pet death so please continue reading at your discretion but. as of a few hours ago i had to take my cat to the emergency vet for a blood clot that came out of nowhere, and ultimately lead to her heart failing and having to put her down. not many of you know my situation but i'm currently gearing up for a cross-country move in about 1.5 months and have had a really tight budget, as i'm already a food stamps recipient even with my full-time job. not really foreseeing any emergencies to this scale. she was a healthy cat, and even our vet said her case of heart failure usually goes undetectable until their last moments.
that all being said, her expenses are still being totaled as we just got home, but have been quoted anywhere from $500-$600 usd, that of which i can only partially front myself. if anyone could spare even a dollar, all of it would help. i can also do graphics commissions (examples @sniktgfx) or anything in that vein. even sharing would really help.
here is my paypal and my kofi is here. thank you all for everything - whether it's support in the form of checking in, just being pals with me, sharing this, or anything at any capacity.
update: i'm back here, unfortunately. i just got a call back from the mortuary with another invoice, despite the vet invoice having already $200 of post-mortem care on it????? it'll be $300 just to bring my bennie's ashes home, which i can front $150 of, but really need assistance in the rest. it is the cremation service only for that, since the box her ashes will be in are included (thank god).
i hate to ask this of you all again. i guess i was really naive for thinking that was not included in what was on the hospital's invoice? idk. i'm so sorry, and so grateful for you all at the same time.
may i present... blue after a fresh (homemade) cut vs. her hair grown out a bit! thank you @lovefeasted for the tag. your turn: @anoffering, @nextwonder, @ordyneir, @ohdete, @insombras, and you, reading this!
would anyone like some memes...... SMASH! that like button.
from lucy gray: It's boring to stay in one place for a long time.
her initial approach was unlikely, these days. unaccustomed to the local pub scene, with previous favor resting in the reality of nursing a brown bag-concealed can in an empty park alongside friends. with them all gone, living life and other shenanigans, blue had no choice but to branch out. it wasn't much of a stretch, already meeting the gazes of familiar faces, the likeness of those passed by in the halls at mountain view, some neighbors and clients of her aunts — those sorts. but, she'd never felt the call to engage, not much past pleasantries, instead, adhering to the exposed brick of its walls, nodding along to the night's lineup until walking home sounded like a much better prospect. rinse and repeat.
enter lucy gray... colorful, sweeping fabrics enough to stick out amongst the earth tones of henrietta's population, and a voice with just as much of a punch, the type of sound whose edge cut clean through a fit of compressed bodies, all enraptured even in varying states of drunken stupor. to say that blue was rapt with a buzz not only provided by a heavily-poured drink would severely underwrite the excitement that billowed in her gut. the entire crowd, too, with a cacophony of whoops and hollers, ninety percent of which were provided by blue herself, echoing amongst the bar walls. her inevitable approach was far less than subtle — maybe rude, too, if all the performer wished for was a strong drink and a shot of solitude — weaving through the masses with an ease only afforded by a one-track mind such as her own.
" you did well, " said as a matter of fact, the blank stare of a coach, a mentor zeroing in on execution and completion. in reality, it was simply blue, veering towards the air of coolness so much that it ventured far into apathy. she didn't want to be too much, too overbearing, not yet. sensibility doesn't scare others away, not those with stakes involved.
luckily, the devolution of cherry cola, non-sobered conversation allowed her to loosen up, stretch the muscles of once-untamed social skills, with years of forced reclusion and stagnation rotting every individual fiber. soon enough, blue found herself swiveling atop the stool, her body in perpetual motion while eyes tethered to a single, unmoving force of @veilhouse — the laws of physics would laugh, had newton or perhaps galileo woke to witness blue sargent and lucy gray baird. it was hardly an even exchange, but perhaps she enjoyed it that way; prying, wide-eyed and bushy-tailed with the question and answer combo that maybe felt more like an interrogation than a question. " so, y'agree? " as if the musician had any inkling of blue's own personal philosophy, one she withheld in the pursuit of wonder. interest. " well, shit, some folks think i'm crazy for sayin' the same thing. i mean, i grew up here. henrietta. take it from me: i know why people go here for all hallows' eve 'n the spring equinox, then ditch us in the summer 'n winter for, say, even the next town over. y'don't need to live here to figure out why i agree wit'ya. " and a beat. " so where to, next, then? "
My daughter Blue!
jj how dare you have blogs i’m not mutuals with :(
it's ok u can never escape me now..... i am always in ur walls
if god was real there would be a taylor russell editorial look with a lot of clips in her short, but grown out pixie because that would be so detrimental to my psyche (positive) and highly significant to my blue vision
little black sheep
i will be here today. MUAHAHAHA
my spotfund, made by a friend for me to find a place to live.
"Now..." Bloated pause. The air of Mississippi is humid, hot, and thick swathes of silver-winged gnats nip at the exposed skin of his sun-burnt nape. The crick hums, silent winter peeking between the cold haze of morning. He wields a trinket from deep within his denim pocket: simple birch carved in the imitation of an owl's head. "You know anything 'bout this, girl?"
blue barely glanced at the figure perched between pinched fingers before her attention whipped towards his features, narrowing on the dead-center of his face, " looks like your manners 've escaped you, sir. you call me by name or not at all, and my name ain't girl. " of course she's fixated on that, lower jaw jut out a bit in protestation, molars grinding, chewing down threats her own lack of ability couldn't dare execute— not seamlessly, at least, nor accurately, hardly enough to be mouthing off in a town whose terrain was still foreign with a stranger whose holster was visible for a reason, and yet...
" henrietta— my name, " spoken with a casualness that speaks to blue's own strength in deception, a save to preserve her own privacy despite the impulsive retort. call it self-preservation, the penchant for stranger danger she didn't necessarily believe in until her life on the road. in a town as small as her home, secrecy was a luxury, one you can only receive when trading your dignity and reputation— isolation meant rumors, people creating tales of whatever they wanted to. everywhere else? isolation meant safety. " you usually go around, showin' that thing off— " a nod, neck craned, brows gestured in the direction of his hand, " before y'even give a proper introduction? some warm welcome y'all give. am i supposed to be impressed by your whittlin' abilities? take a class from you, or somethin'? "
sender slows their pace so receiver can keep up.
" jesus— " the syllables came out strained, breathy in a way that spoke to nothing but exhaustion. blue wasn't being threaded to excess, by any means, rather just out of sorts for a mission ill-prepared for. she hardly knew what kenneth was looking for, nor interested in delving further into the weeds of details this mission was sure to bring about. she thought her own family situation was messy, at least, until demi-gods came about— first a sparse amount, no more than two or three, some transfer students to henrietta she'd only known of the moment they spoke of ley lines, wielding its energetic ties in ways to commune alongside the legions of hecate and other magic-doers, those of which she soon came to learn were her own siblings.
now? it's like blue could sniff them out in a single breath, proximity closer than not... were the gods aware that they could simply wrap it and tap it?
it wasn't like the two were close, by any means. acquaintances at best, now erring on the side of coworkers, perhaps. whether or not that was an upgrade, blue had yet to discern. regardless, much of her place on tiber island, and whether she had earned a spot despite her own lack of magic, was largely up in the air. a subject of scrutiny, bitter hecate kids and mages blue, herself, would agree were far more useful than she, the concept of being active in any capacity had her chomping at the bit out of boredom and spite alone. " y'know, just 'cause your family's known for their chariots, doesn't mean y'need to walk at the speed of it, too. my lungs are still half-fuckin'-human. " her feet carried her along despite protestations, gaze untethered to a single direction, head moving on a swivel to take in their surroundings. " you never told me where we're going, in the first place. how are y'so confident i'm going to help you? "
for those wanting to help venezuelans affected by the bombings through donations, these are currently the best ways to go. will add more links as more is set up
cruz roja (red cross)
doctors without borders
trc zine 2 getting there here’s a misc page
the cheek on this one. alice makes her displeasure apparent when her frown doubles its length. she chalks this up to her own failings, that she had looked away for too long and pockets of wonderland had fallen too far into ruin [let’s be honest though alice, when isn’t your country in ruins?] and because of it, rabbit holes had popped up here and there, the perfect invitation for scoundrels to come through. the girl has a posture to match the stubbornness she is met with, a hand on her hip and another shielding her from the false sun; at last she sees alice, her camouflage wasted, but her refusal to move away at all or accommodate her guest meant she was sticking firmly to her guns.
❛ well, this is hell in a dream. so your mark is probably not far off from the bullseye, is it? ❜ she scoffed lightly at the pretty threat, knowing this girl could not be even a quarter bit as foul as the tall petunias who were routinely out for blood and scandal. ❛ careful now, my pretty flowers have ears and far more eyes than four boys and a girl stitched together. ❜ although one of them wasn’t here she felt. there were enough phantom patrols in wonderland that another of their making wasn’t so easily welcome. where are we? alice felt the urge to retreat, to let cheshire have his fun & the card guards draw their blood. what better peace could she find than by digging her head under the dirt like an ostrich? yet however weary she felt, however close to dejection, she could not bring herself to fade away.
when she did fade, it was to. there one moment, gone the next in a bush of blue butterflies. she glided towards the girl until she was flesh and bones again, the vorpal blade materialising in her hand, the very sharp tip pressed just beneath the girl’s chin. ❛ i ask the questions here. foolish girl, are you lying to me? ❜ her eyes squinted with her suspicion, narrowed and terse; that their entrance was accidental could not be true, and she reasoned that even in the event that it was, their lack of total mental collapse & fright was a sturdy indication that they frequented oddities and dreams. ❛ i can smell it on you, all nineteen years of magic. ❜ alice lowered the knife an inch, but didn’t move it away completely. her face was as young as blue’s, and yet her manner and speak was virtually ancient.
she recalled with a sudden shock, that she could not remember at all, the last time she had spoken to a young girl her age— when she had last spoken to another human being at all. ❛ why you, you’re not a dreamie at all. you’re a human thing. how on earth did you... ❜ her mistrust was twisting her arm, but she held on, curiosity the ugly cat smiling at her with his twenty shark teeth. ❛ you’re in my dream forest. so are your boys. now, out with it — what’s your name, who are you, and what do you want with me? ❜
the onslaught of stimuli — both audible and visual, (ah, the headache-inducing reality of being prodded on all fronts) — only fully settled the moment the other's distinct cadence rung through the mess of her world's ensemble. it was then, in that moment, that it made sense. admission aside, blue didn't need to do anything more, nor require any further confirmation, than seeing and hearing her to grasp that this was nothing but a manifestation of her psyche. only after years of dealing with ronan's own creations, materialized aspects of the man's fears, aspirations, and thoughts, did she understand the capability of dreamers — at least, the basics of their abilities, one whose breadth is far more than blue would even want to delve into the riches of. she questioned, then, whether this was an intentional world created, one that provided the one before her refuge or respite, or perhaps a mess she'd accidentally visualized.
blue couldn't unsee it now; aspects of an unnamed being echoed in unseemly ways. the hue of her dress, its vividness shared by the water below. the way the linens of her dress flowed in the same manner as poppies swaying to and fro. even her tights, when curved along the natural line of her leg, it, in some lights, mimicked the teeth of a nearby feline, one whose mannerisms and beady eyes surely gave her the creeps, but that was an issue for later! " i ain't too shabby with guessin' games, " spoken with the cadence just shy of a taunt, still unabashed, party-crashing aside, and a naiveté that had yet to comprehend the reality of their dwellings. posed threats were taken in stride. to her untrained eye, while out of sorts, this land spoke to nothing but an unstable mind at its worst, and an eclectic one at best. hardly could she feel the undercurrent of malevolence, brushing away the concerns of the others, particularly adam, whose hand clutched her own in a mark of concern the moment he'd hoisted her up onto the boulder.
she glanced back, merely a second, checking on the huddled group behind, only to be met with a sudden edge. it didn't press, its contact hardly more than contact with the surface of skin, but the definition evident in craftsmanship, human or magical, was enough to nick at her complexion, a micro-tear unseen but surely felt. teeth grit and a neck keened backwards to ease proximity, " what the hell would i be lying about? all this magic 'n you can't even sniff out a group of lost folk? we're shabby actors, surely ain't even made for the worst high school production of cats —" her voice was strained, knees locked and fingers flexed at her sides to resist any movement. despite the natural penchant for combativeness, fear was evident in her tone, all-encompassing even through the slung quips.
stop, she gestured, only with her hand, as her eyes affixed to hues before her. the planning of counter measures could be heard, both brutish and foolish, hardly enough to strike someone on their own, self-made turf. more could be heard, unseemly comments and egging-on from some, but all of it faded into the background, relief as her priority the moment the blade's wielder sniffed out the truth of her condition. " was trying t'tell you that all along— jesus. " blue stretched, just a bit to the right, fatigue settling along stiffened muscles, " my name is blue sargent, the rest of 'em can introduce themselves later on — they're grown enough to. we're from henrietta — the united states, which, considerin' your pretty accent, you aren't from. " she stepped back, just a singular, slowed motion, as if retreating prey. " i wasn't lyin' when i said we just got here. one second, we were in a forest, as regular as one could be — at least, no singing worms that i could hear. the trees just kept closin' in, and this... land, ended up being on the other side of it. " her breathing shallow. " we just need to get out of here. alive, unscathed. that's it. "
" i just bent over backwards to show you how reasonable i am. " for alice!
⟡ random acts prompts, 𝘢𝘤𝘤𝘦𝘱𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨.
brooding, pensive alice : a mishap of cut black hair curtains her eyes like a downed damsel. she speaks with a seething fatigue to her body, not quite at her wit’s end yet with the troublesome bunch of intruders that have found a pocket into wonderland’s slow-rotting demise, but damn well near it. they thought themselves quiet invaders but to the ears of her daydreams, they were a rather ill-mannered freight train paired together [beelining for the selfish lake no less! where fish-tailed marauders waited to chop off their heads.] the girl is the most interesting of the bunch. from the distance alice imparts, seated at the top the stones of a curving waterfall, she looks down at blue sargeant clumsily navigating the green lush of the vale of tears.
from there, she squints her eyes down at the spasms of charged magic, in a neat radius around the dark haired girl, ones only she can see. delicious, the cheshire cat purred at her shoulder, his snake tongue curling around his lip. more absurdity.
❛❛ have you considered bending forward, or sideways? perhaps sing while you’re at it, or would that be unreasonable? ❜❜ she crosses a leg over the other, hunched forward with her frown softening with questions she held back. ❛❛ you [...] no, you should never have come here. ❜❜
the voice of another beckoned from above, distinct in timbre, a stand out even amongst the melodious tones of swaying flowers and much-too-large insects enveloped in hushed gossip — hardly to say it wasn't as tempting, no, but something, the weight behind it, provided an inkling theory to its perceived humanity. it startled her, admittedly, a jump and a hand that clutched at a still-beating heart through one too many layers of fabric plucked at by skittering creatures at blue's feet, as " jesus h. fuckin'— " slid past her lips on pure instinct, already receptive of scorned expressions and the curling away from her foul tongue. blue searched for its source, then, neck on a swivel and a cupped hand rested at her brow bone, whose narrowed eyes provided more for sight than sun protection. aha! perfectly camouflaged, hues of blue fabric dissolving amongst running water— the most vibrant shades she has laid her eyes upon, whether the product of an equally-rich imagination or simply a world whose color palette was naturally gifted in comparison to henrietta's muted tones, she had yet to discern.
a perched hand rested at her hip, now, one characteristically jutted to the right. for some reason, blue could never perch themselves completely upright, with a standing posture that veered alongside the earth's natural tilt. would those same laws of physics apply to realms that are dreamt, too? " i ain't much of a singer— i've heard the way i could carry a tune, or way i can't rather, is basically hell on earth. might make your pretty flowers rot down to the root. " blue's voice strains, nearly screaming to make up for the rush of the downpour and its eventual crash upon the riverbed. " do idioms exist in— here... whatever, wherever we are? hey, can you tell me where we are, anyway? " they only wished she were closer, now, teetering the line between concern and recklessness. she couldn't read their face, not in a way that was indicative of the true nature of their tone. a threat? a warning, even?
as if a mere meter of elevation could help, blue climbed up a boulder, fits of struggle as her skirt got trapped beneath a boot sole caked in still-drying mud. curses were sung, pressed out between gritted teeth and an even tighter jaw. they didn't like heights, not like this, where her field of balance relied on the rounded peak of a rock she had to work up to in the first place. " trust me, none of us wanted to come here. " wherever this was, still a question that hung front and center, " not intentionally, anyway. say, y'gonna tell us where or what this is, or do we have to play twenty questions for me to figure out why these petunias have a penchant for pinchin' me? "
![ — [𝒽]ow your words ring through,](https://64.media.tumblr.com/ca90af34422b2bef24ee56a2b57d94d5/0d5bc07ead6c73eb-51/s1280x1920/a6d313061f335893dd20579dd944b60cd97cc4c2.png)
