#the statues

[xxoolii]

my favourite non sexual intimacy in all the danmei i’ve read? every single minuscule act of love that HC does for XL, it is simply unbelievable how deep HC’s devotion for XL is.

[wr-n]

A part of being a refugee under Dream is meeting the one who stays near the garden every day.

An oracle with the ability to see into the future and predict Bad Sans attacks. And scarily accurately as well.

But... they seem to have lost it in the process.

"Okay, I'll get the guards ready for the next attack."

"..... what? That's it? You're going to ignore the others? They've been so nice to you this whole time."

The head guard sighs and turned to the statues, confusing the new recruit who had come to accompany them.

"Thank you all for your hospitality. I apologize for ignoring you all. I will come back after the meeting to properly greet you all."

And on the way back, the new recruit asks him why they talked to the statues like they could hear them.

"I can't quite make out what theyre saying yet. I was in the wrong there."

"But they're... statues?"

The head guard would look at them with genuine confusion.

"Yeah?"

"They... can't talk?"

The head guard would wave their hand dismissively and chuckle.

"You'll understand soon enough."

@koreposion

[badly-made-doflamingo]

Okay so update on the Usopp statue…

All thanks to @potato-imouto

There are more.

There is a full merry, with 5 Strawhats

and… two admirals… (Kizaru not pictured)

And more!

[takethebodymarc]

i miss the eggs so damn much

[koreposion]

Roses covered in Thorns

[k1ngj0ve]

i will take this to mean that when it came time to make this music video Skwisgaar very explicitly ordered the production team to include imagery from a nightmare he had (accidentally confirming to all the fans that hes got Anxiety)

[p-isforpoetry]

"The Statues" by William Butler Yeats (read by Rupert Graves)

Pythagoras planned it. Why did the people stare? His numbers, though they moved or seemed to move In marble or in bronze, lacked character. But boys and girls, pale from the imagined love Of solitary beds, knew what they were, That passion could bring character enough, And pressed at midnight in some public place Live lips upon a plummet-measured face.

No! Greater than Pythagoras, for the men That with a mallet or a chisel" modelled these Calculations that look but casual flesh, put down All Asiatic vague immensities, And not the banks of oars that swam upon The many-headed foam at Salamis. Europe put off that foam when Phidias Gave women dreams and dreams their looking-glass.

One image crossed the many-headed, sat Under the tropic shade, grew round and slow, No Hamlet thin from eating flies, a fat Dreamer of the Middle Ages. Empty eyeballs knew That knowledge increases unreality, that Mirror on mirror mirrored is all the show. When gong and conch declare the hour to bless Grimalkin crawls to Buddha's emptiness.

When Pearse summoned Cuchulain to his side. What stalked through the post Office? What intellect, What calculation, number, measurement, replied? We Irish, born into that ancient sect But thrown upon this filthy modern tide And by its formless spawning fury wrecked, Climb to our proper dark, that we may trace The lineaments of a plummet-measured face.

Source: The Poetry Hour