bury the crown

Dear followers, this is my living will.

Lately, it’s been quaking a lot here in Chile, so if a quake higher than 8.2 comes around and I die, I just wanted you to know that I made a letter for you all. It’s in my school locker and two of my closest friends have a copy of the key. If you can’t find those friends, the key is the one that’s hanging around my neck.

Also, there is a protected folder on my laptop named Bite The Booty, full of sketches of Victuuri and Zimbits that I’ve never posted. Password is #LetKatsudonGetMarried2k17. Please post it.

Hollow Crown // Architects

anonymous asked:

Have you seen the video of the little girl watching her sister breastfeed and she's so confused and then the little girl goes "from your boobies!" And then the mom tells her she's drinking milk and the little girl goes "where's the chocolate milk at?" It just reminded me of something that would happen between the missus and P or Alfie.

Oh, my goodness. I haven’t, but, it sounds SO precious. This is very much Persephone because she’s so new to the whole newborn baby thing; she’s been an only child for almost 5 years of her life so adjusting to being a big sister and seeing her mummy and daddy do things to look after her new baby brother is so fresh to her. Something she’s never seen before. 

She’s settled on Harry’s lap as they four of them settle back on the sofa, as a post-dinner cuddle, with bellies full of a roast chicken dinner, before he gets her in the bath and washes her before getting her into bed with a story and a cuddle and a kiss, with the telly on a low volume. Where Harry is focused on the telly that’s playing the TV news of the day, updates on specific events that have been going on for a while, Persephone is completely in awe of her baby brother. Brushing her fingers up the soles of his tiny feet, running her palm over Alfie’s head and cooing over how pretty he is, slowly coming to an understanding that Alfie is sucking on mummy’s boob.

“Mummy?”

The sweet question catches her attention as she looks across to her daughter, a smile on her lips to coax her to keep going.

“Alfie’s sucking on your boobies.”

This catches Harry’s attention as he looks down at his little girl, and he can practically see the cogs in her mind turning and working together to get her brain to understand what’s happening. A smile on his lips as he buries his nose into the crown of her head and presses a kiss to her sweet-smelling but stuck-together-by-glue-and-paint hair.

“He is, isn’t he? He’s having his dinner,” the missus smiles.

“What is he having?”

“He’s having some milk. You used to do the exact same, in this very spot, when you were Alfie’s size,” Harry explains, bumping his knee up and down as Persephone moves with the motion, giggling before rolling back and flopping against his thighs, “what are you doin’, silly girl?”

“Daddy?”

“Yes, Poppet?”

“Does mummy make chocolate milk? Can I have some chocolate milk?” She asks softly, a smile toying on Harry’s face, “please, daddy? Before my bath.”

“Mummy doesn’t make chocolate milk, silly girl. Mummy makes milk for Alfie because it’s full of something that protects the baby from illnesses and fills his tummy up so he isn’t hungry anymore. Just like the chicken did for you, at dinner,” he chuckles, tickling her belly as she squeals and digs her heels into the sofa beneath Harry.

“Can you make milk?”

The missus snickers, her chest rumbling and vibrating which disgruntles the hungry baby nurturing from her breast, his eyes staring up at her as she coos back down to him.

“Daddy can’t make milk, no, Poppet,” he chuckles, as he sits her up on his lap and lets her stand to her feet between his legs, “mummy has all the parts for that.”

“Her boobies,” she cackles, flopping back against his stomach as he lets out an ‘oomph’ sound as she collides with his body.

Harry just laughs and stands up with her, lifting her up to his body and letting her settle on his hip, “her boobies, indeed.” xx

A good morning

I’m posting this from my phone, so no idea if I’ll even get separate paragraphs formatted correctly. I’ll fix it later if necessary.

——

Her hair smells like flowers, Han thought, sleepily burying his nose into the crown of Leia’s head and breathing in deeply. He was wrapped around her, his hand on her waist, legs cradling hers. He moved to snuggle closer to her, then stopped himself abruptly, freezing in place.


He discreetly looked down. He was in his boxers, sharing a sleeping bag with a still-asleep Leia Organa, who was clad only in her camisole and skivvies.


And he wasn’t just sharing a sleeping bag. He was spooning her.


He blinked, barely daring to breathe. I don’t know how I got here…


Just then, she turned over, still asleep, and he raised his hand off her waist briefly as she settled back down, nestling her head against his chest. He saw the bacta patch on her shoulder, breaking up the sea of creamy skin.


Then he remembered. Her and the kid. Like a couple of drowned rats.


He took a cautious look at the other sleeping bag in the tent, and almost gave himself away with a chuckle. Luke and Wedge Antilles were wrapped up in a similar fashion to him and Leia, both still asleep as well.


It had been a mad, tense rush getting the two of them out of the cold water in time. Han was just glad that Wedge had been able to act fast and get that wound dressed while Han argued with the Princess about the best way to prevent hypothermia. And that Wedge had backed him up when he’d said she and Luke both needed to get those wet clothes off, now.


The four of them, plus Chewie, were on a mission together; Chewie was back at the Falcon to avoid attracting undue attention when they met their contacts. Leia was making the exchange; Luke and Wedge were here to fly the new ships; and Han was there to inspect the merchandise and provide security. The rendezvous point was a three-day hike, following the river, and they were only on the second day.


Han was torn. He realized he should probably be trying to figure out a way to extricate himself from Leia without waking her up; she was sure to be furious with him if she woke up with his arms around her. But he wasn’t really seeing a good way to do that. And his initial shock aside, he felt oddly at home with her so near, her dark hair strewn across the pillow, her dark lashes fluttering across her cheek, her face, so relaxed in sleep…


Kriffing hell, Solo, would you get a grip? No wonder Chewie has been making fun of you nonstop, Han scolded himself silently. You’re turning into a damned sap. She would be the first to point out that we’re on a mission. We’re friends, that’s all. We don’t have time for this.


Just then, Leia stirred, and Han realized it was too late to pull away without making it even more obvious how entangled they were.


She raised her head and looked up at him. “Hi,” she said, a blush spreading across her face as she pulled back slightly. “Good morning.”


He grinned at her. “Good morning.”

@nerdermerender asked for “Dance with me” from this list :D I TRIEDDDD

no cw’s, undercover au, Jyn’s not quite sure why she’s doing intelligence work.


It should have come natural to her, assuming another identity — Lianna Sward, newly (and happily) married to Joreth, spending their first month together on Coruscant. Their debrief was short, Draven only offering their cover story. That, and their mission’s objective — gain intel on the Empire’s newest weapon, what the Alliance could only refer to as the second Death Star.

The first had brought them together, only natural they’d be sent after its’ successor.


Joreth Sward is a man of far too many words. She stands back as he speaks, hands flying in exuberance, a smile painting his face as he listened and spoke with the deepest intent. It was a marvel, how he became such a person.

She’d never compare, they wouldn’t believe she of all people—

“And this,” Joreth turns to her, and for a moment her heart stops, “is my wife, Lianna. We’re here to meet with Grandeef, have you seen him?”

Stars, he’s good. She flashes a smile but the man’s attention is already back on Joreth. And so is hers …

His bangs are gelled back, a tiny tuft of hair flipped at the nape of his neck. She wonders how long it took him to do that. The scruff on his face has been trimmed to a fine beard. She watches as he tugs lightly at his suit cuffs, stark white against black, and adjusts the bow tie to sit nicely along his collar.

“Ready?” it’s his voice she hears, pulling her from her thoughts. The man he was with is gone and he eyes her up and down, his brows creasing slightly. She tugs at her dress, fire-red and short, too loud for her tastes and a damn hard thing to blend in with.

She’s not ready.

“I’m scared,” she replies, startling herself, and gently slides her palm into his. She’s suddenly aware of how exposed her shoulders are, how the air hits her back and chest, and suddenly Cassian is too. He pulls her to the side, grips her hand tight and waits.

“You’re just so good at this and I’m not, I’ll screw it up, I can’t talk to these type of people and you—,” her hectic breaths are swallowed by his lips, warm and in control, and she lets herself relax. His hand is at her back, fingers playing with the clasp of her kyber necklace, while the other pulls her achingly close.

“Just dance with me,” he pulls back, whispers into her hair. “Can you do that?”

“Yes,” she shakes, speaks to his lips, and he answers with another kiss. This time it’s soft, measured and warm, and she tugs him closer, tries to at least, though there’s no space left to breach. His hands find her shoulders and she leans in to him, finds the spot beneath his jaw and shoulder that’s undeniably Jyn’s..

He rests his chin on top of her, scans the room before speaking softly, nose buried in the crown of her head. “You’ll be fine, just … pretend you love me.”

“Would have been useful to know that in the debrief,” and if she could bottle the feeling of his laughter, the warmth it spread in her own chest, she would be too lucky of a woman.

Before she can admire the roll of his eyes, he’s tugging her to the dance floor, giddy as Joreth Sward, but his voice held low just for her.

“We’ll have plenty more missions for you to practice, Lianna.”

bbc.com
Peru reconstructs face of ancient female leader - BBC News
Scientists replicated the ancient Lady of Cao's face by analysing her skull structure and remains.

The woman, known as the Lady of Cao, belonged to the Moche culture in northern Peru and died 1,700 years ago.

Her preserved remains were found in 2006 at a mud-brick ruined pyramid known Huaca Cao Viejo, near Trujillo.

Scientists were able to replicate her face after analysing her skull structure and remains.

The Lady of Cao was buried with a crown, and gold and copper items.

The grave also contained a number of weapons, including two massive war clubs and 23 spear throwers.

A modern autopsy revealed she had been in her 20s when she died, probably of childbirth or pregnancy complications.

Her feet, legs and face were tattooed with magic symbols of serpents and spiders.

The richness of her burial site suggests she might have been a priestess or even a political ruler.

The discovery challenged the belief that only men held high positions in ancient Moche society.

Peru’s minister of Culture, Salvador del Solar, said the reconstruction had revealed an oval face with high cheekbones, which many Peruvians shared and would recognise.

“We are privileged to announce this strange combination of the future and the past: technology has allowed us to see the face of a political and religious leader from a culture from the past.”

Oval face and high cheekbones - a close-up of the replicated face


anonymous asked:

gwahhh i love your scenarios so much they're amazing !! could you do a scenario with kuroo, tsukki and iwai where their fem s/o is an insomniac? and whenever she can't sleep she does her own hobbies like baking or drawing or she just takes a walk outside etc and one night they stay over at the boys houses and they wake up to see her doing her own thing and try to coax her to go back to bed?

It slipped my mind while writing that they were only supposed to be visiting- I hope you don’t too much that they ended up living together, I’m sorry! Anyhow, this was an incredibly heartwarming prompt to write for, and I hope that you enjoy it, and thank you for your patience. :)


At age twenty five, Kuroo is a far cry from just five, which was when he last believed in monsters underneath his bed. Or perhaps they’re still there, but he’s become far too old and too boring for them to find entertaining anymore, and they’ve moved on to people who sleep more, who have fewer nightmares, who can sleep fine alone.

He hears the noise from downstairs first. It’s a soft clang, but it’s enough to pull him out of half-awakeness and his fingers curl curiously around the edge of his pillow. She’s not there, and her space is cold and empty from the exposed bedsheet.

The clang comes again, followed with a very, very quiet curse that makes the edge of his lips curl with laughter at four in the morning. It’s no clawed thing, but his own little monster he relies on to comfort him each night in their multitudes of blankets at pillows that cradle them into mutual drowsiness. Her pills lie capped on her side of the bedside table, untouched and unmoved, and he knows that this must be a special night. The stars, maybe, or the autumn chill that treads it way softly through the corridors of their small house, trailing eagerly along the warm footsteps of whoever’s awake at this time of night.

Not for the first time, Kuroo regrets not wearing fluffy slippers with bears on them when his feet finally touch the ground. He swings himself off the edge gingerly, aware of how his head fogs with unfinished sleep and the way his muscles seem to creak at him, scolding him, potentially threatening to shut down completely if he doesn’t return this instant. He goes off hunting for slippers instead, and for you, even though he knows beyond familiarity where exactly he’d find those things.

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A/N:   It had gotten a little long, I was carried away haha and the title… ugh nvm


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The first time Rukia achieves bankai, they nearly lose her. 

Hakka no Togame is beautiful – all white dress and ribbons and a glittering crown of ice – but Ichigo can’t stop thinking about how Rukia’s skin was cold as frozen iron and her gaze turned from vivid violet to the thousand-yard lilac stare of someone looking beyond the veil of life and death. 

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Secrets of the Ayleids

“Still, a remnant Ayleid population seems to have survived the rule of the Alessians, because we hear of "the last king of the Ayleids” joining the battle of Glenumbria Moors where the Dirennis decisively defeated the Alessians in 482. How this king’s people survived the preceding century is unknown. We do not even know who they were, although recent research points to Nenalata as the possible resting place of this “last king.” Unfortunately, in the current state of the Empire, funds are no longer available for proper scientific investigation of such extensive ruins, so the answer to these questions will have to be left to future generations" - Last King of the Ayleids

As recounted in an earlier entry in this series, a wealthy collector named Umbacano, who occupied a lush estate in the Imperial City Talos District, became interested in Ayleid antiquities late in the Third Era. He employed several scouts and adventurers to seek out long-lost relics such as the Ten Ancestors statues. His most sought after possession was the lost crown of Nenalata, thought to have been worn by the last King of the Ayleids.

It is a commonly held belief among Imperials that the Ayleid society of old consisted of a single, all-powerful Empire ruled exclusively by Daedra worshiping sorcerer kings and their high priests. The truth is more complicated than that, by far. While it’s true that the Ayleid Hegemony could have been considered an Empire with its central authority, shared language, currency, and similar religion and customs from tribe to tribe, it was actually a loose confederacy of city states with quite a bit of cultural variation from one to the next. The Ayleids were segregated into two primary groups: the Barsaebic Ayleids, who followed traditions and gods more closely attuned to their ancestors from Summerset; and the Daedraphiles, who paid homage to the Princes of Oblivion. Both groups kept slaves of human and beast-folk descent, however, and while the Barsaebics favored the Aedra over the Daedra, they made pacts with the Lords of Misrule and were only marginally less cruel.

After a fierce and bitter conflict between the two, most of the Barsaebics were driven out of Cyrod and settled down in Black Marsh and other remote places. This would not be the last or even the most significant schism in Ayleid society. Later, during the Nedic Uprising led by Queen Alessia, several groups of the remaining Daedraphile Ayleids took pity with the human tribes, being less cruel and wanton than their brethren, and lent aid to the burgeoning human armies. Once the White Gold Tower was sacked and the old Ayleid Hegemony’s chokehold on the land was shattered, the newly christened Empress pardoned those tribes who had allied with the races of men, and for over a century the Ayleids lived alongside the Nedic Imperials in relative peace. 

However, the fiery preachings of the prophet Maruhk soon began to sweep throughout the land, and a theocratic regime assumed control of the Empire. Many Ayleids, sensing their time in Nibenay and Colovia was drawing to a close, chose to retreat to other nations before the Alessian priests arrived with their maces and destructive magics. The most famous and yet most enigmatic figure spoken of in these tales is the so-called “Last King of the Ayleids”, who was incredibly present at the Battle of Glenumbra moors deep into Alessian rulership of Nibenay. Most modern scholars agree that he and his tribe must have emigrated to the Direnni holdings of what we now consider High Rock before the Alessian priesthood reached their lands. Bolstered by Nords, Colovians and the young race of Bretons, Clan Direnni and their Ayleid allies crushed the Alessians, breaking their theocratic rule of the lands around the Iliac Bay and forcing them to retreat home to rebuild their strength. 

It is believed that with the power of the Alessian Priesthood weakened, this last Ayleid king returned to his ancestral kingdom of Nenalata and was buried there with his crown. This is where the tale of Umbacano intersects with the tale of the King. It was revealed to the explorer aiding Ubacano that this Mer was sympathetic to the Ayleid cause, and indeed upon acquiring the crown Umbacano attempted to draw power from the ruin itself, and mantle the strength of Ayleid Sorcerer Kings. As the demented Lich who had recently been a mortal Altmer man began to raise the dead and hurl destructive magics at his former allies, he bragged that the Ayleid Empire would return. However, this vainglorious hubris did not serve him well, and his powers proved insufficient. He was crushed along with the ancient undead minions he summoned, and the Crown he coveted disappeared shortly after. 

The tale of Umbacano is a cautionary one. What began as an interest in scholarship took a darker turn, and a desire to resurrect a past better left dead and gone. It is widely believed that the cruelty of the Ayleids was their downfall, and their weakness. Umbacano was not the last or the strongest Elf to attempt an Ayleid resurgence during those troubled days, however. There was one other, and we will speak of the Unfeathered One soon enough. May Akatosh and the Nine preserve us from such devils.