seen from Ukraine
seen from Germany
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Netherlands
seen from United Kingdom
seen from India
seen from Colombia
seen from France
seen from Australia
seen from Japan
seen from Russia
seen from Netherlands
seen from United States
seen from Singapore
seen from Italy
seen from United States
👊 Friendly punch from Connor. Nothing from Rosa bc we all know she'd just casually knee him in the gonads.
THWUMP.
Willard knew his friend and often time battle partner was strong, but sometimes the man didn’t know his own strength! Rubbing his now sore forearm, he shot Connor a friendly glare. “Connor, for the last blasted time, I’m not a brick wall you’re trying to break down to save a princess or a cat, you don’t need to punch THAT hard.”
Choose between the lives of one of your two children, Cynthia.
Make Me Choose Between ______ & ______ ?
Cynthia hesitated, not wanting to answer. She knew what she’d say, of course - she was ashamed at how quickly she’d come to the conclusion. She’d spent months, if not years of her time since coming back complaining about her father playing favorites, and here she was doing the same. Was it that he had set a bad example?
She didn’t think so. Somehow, she just knew that she’d managed to let herself fall into the same trap without even noticing until it was possibly too late. She loved Haley, yes - but the girl was standoffish, isolated, her phobia taking that aspect of her personality and magnifying it to unimaginable levels. They couldn’t even touch - how was the princess meant to bond with a daughter she couldn’t even hug?
Morgan was smart, and beautiful, and affectionate and most importantly physical. She had so much in common with her mother, really, even if she’d inherited a terrifying amount of her father’s brains. She was someone she could actually relate to and spend time with, even if Cynthia found herself out of her depth. Which was why, even though she hated herself for it, she knew the answer as soon as the question had been given.
“Morgan.” She said quietly, staring at the ground and hating herself for how easy the choice was. “I’d save Morgan.”
Lyra?
Send a word and I’ll write a drabble based on the below scenario.
Lyra: My muse reflects on a significant relationship.
She made him colder.
He wanted to wrap it up in words, but he didn’t know how to do so without spilling the secret that caused the whole incident. He started there, with the word ‘colder’.
She made him colder. She took the warmth from his heart by letting it out through a small little hole, metal-stained. Gunpowder, gunpowder, could he use it?
He wrote it down.
Seth had already worked out a nice little riff, humming the notes as he wrote.
The relationship had been good until the end. It came to a jarring, halting stop, complete with sirens and a hospital visit. Could he twist that into a metaphor?
A hand sifted through his bangs. He was in that mood again -- he had to get something down. The emotions were whirling inside of him, raw knives against his heartstrings. His best work was in that vulnerable place between motivation and tears.
Before she broke his heart so thoroughly, she’d been wonderful. A bubbly girl that begged him to write songs about her (back when he was bad at it), and he wrote hundreds for her but never showed her a single one.
Everything was good until the end. How could he put that into words without telling the whole truth?
Gunpowder, gunpowder, on your breath and in my chest.
That sounded good, he decided, just about the time the scar she gave him pounded with imaginary heat. He sighed. It ached when he thought of her, and he hated it. It felt like his heart was aching from her, and not the wound that she left him with.
There was no denying it. She changed him, though for better or worse he still didn’t know. People were weird like that, he concluded. You could break them to bits and they’d still find something good out of it. Maybe he just needed to find something good about it in order to move on.
But he was definitely colder now. He could be distant and detached and cold, and he didn’t think that was an improvement.
Snail snail snail snail snail snail snail
If I get 7 🐌 I'll post a munday selfie
Omg----Toshi XD
3/7
MEANWHILE, IN YLISSE!
Tremolo tremolo FUCKING HELL MY LIFE IS ONE HUGE NAGA-DAMNED TREMOLO!
In the privacy of her own room, a very scarred knight was waging a particularly fierce battle with the smallest member of the string section- the violin, as she managed to wave her way through a particularly complicated piece, filled with particular crescendos, touchy tremolos, and very abrupt and frequent switches from fortissimo to pianissimo.
Of course, for her right arm and left hand, this translated to one thing. Well, two things, actually-
Not.
Fun.
Regardless of her own personal suffering, this song was the ultimate test of skill for any violinist, and as both a knight and a noble, it was an art that was expected of her- and one she would see through.
But for the love of Naga’s bathing suit area, WHY WERE THERE SO MANY FUCKING TREMOLOS?!
The last note couldn’t have come soon enough, and as the last note of the massively over-complicated piece died a slow, painful death, she set herself into a resting position immediately, and stowed her instrument away.
Feeling great accomplishment, the scarred knight lay down on her bed, to rest after a long session of practice.
An errant breeze came through her room at that time, and the pages of the music sheets she had been reading flipped back to the title...
Ode to Your Ghetto Ass
By Ser Connor, Knight of the Chivalric Order of Ylisse.
@fxdelitas / @sparkles-and-swords
based on
idk when i saw that photoset it was totally rosa and i just picked wes because i didn’t know who else to drawwww
Examine a Judge Pontifex.
Miltia, the Grey-Sky Sunbeam. One of the most accomplished mages in all of Plegia, and perhaps, the world. She might be more suited to her station and title than most, with lineage traceable to Pontifexes Miloah and Linde- and, to boot, being the current heir to the tome ‘Aura’. She enjoys gardening and cooking, and her favorite color is Peach.
Examine a pair of loudly bickering sibling knights.
The male of the pair is, quite frankly, a train-wreck of etiquette. He’s doing every last thing wrong and you ca’t help but stare, and the morbid side of you is more than a little amused. Final diagnosis? Huge nerd who would cry over a kitten. Not even like, a sick one, just a cat.
The woman of the pair is the only one who has her shit together. Of course, she is prone to nihilism and pessimism and most of the bad ‘ism’s. Nice person, but altogether, needs to accept that while yes, life is crap sometimes, there’s sunshine to go with the rainstorms.
