you were my reason


top 50 otps of all time ☆ #24. Ethan Morgan & Benny Weir 

“When we were eight and we went to see Buzzy and the Big Bee Band, and I cried, did you let me face the music alone?” 


What’s been going on in this house isn’t just some affair. No. No, it isn’t.

Six months of being away has made some of my feelings for you die down. But, I think a part of me will always love you. Even though I will never say it to you for many reasons, I can’t deny the fact that you were my first love. You were the one that made me realize that I was not the person who I thought I was. And for that, thank you.
I’m missing the memories more than I miss you
and I dream about you with other girls,
doing all the things you promised not to.
Then I remember subtle things,
I remember your distance and how suicidal I felt in the silence.
Then I remember, moments where everything tasted like ice,
melted faster than I could take it in,
when you would kiss me, when you would hold my hand, when your heart would beat faster than you got tired of me.
I think you were afraid to say that you were settling,
that you were leaving before you could even arrive.
I watched a part of me die, and I became you,
I became just as distant,
as you could
and then you get worried, and you became present,
wondering where I was going.
I think I’m afraid to say that with you I’m settling,
that temporary won’t satiate the needs of my heart,
that you were the reason why my art
had gotten so dark.
You were always so careless with me
and I tried to hold you like water, but you always slipped through my fingers like you weren’t anything to hold onto.
And you tried to hold me, only when my fire was dim enough to see yourself through.
Forgetting about you comes slow and easy,
forgiving myself and letting myself grow is beginning to come naturally.
I am blossoming in the death of summer
now that I am no longer under your control.

Sormik week day 6! Woohoo! I’m back.
No baby Sormiks this time, but have all the more fluff. This one is for @amarietie/ @tmariea for Storms in Our Blood. Today’s theme is “Lastonbell—Promises/Acceptance”, and although this scene indeed takes place in Elysia and has nothing to do with the Lastonbell promise, I figured the prompt was as good as any to do a marriage proposal.
I… I went over the top with the cheesiness, didn’t I? *hides*
The layers have fancy names to distract from the ridiculous romance going on here. Like “background panels”, background background”, “fucking rain”, “fucking lightning”, “rainy bits” and “rainy muchs”.

Anyway, I’m sorry this is so rushed, but I hope it gets the idea across just fine! I really really hope you like it, Mari! :,)
This is my little thanks for your kind words and deeds for me, and for your Earth Armatus Rose occasionally saving my ass in ToLink, hoho. HAPPY SEVERAL MONTHS LATE BIRTHDAY OR SOMETHING

For everyone else: go read the story, it includes more artistic use of seraphic artes, and more kisses in the rain, if that doesn’t convince you I don’t know what to tell you

here take a sketch i’ll probably never end up finishing but i thought it was too cute not to post so freaking ajsldfkjsad;l whatever jUST TAKE IT (please; i’m sorry i didn’t mean to yell)

in the end, it mattered.

So, I… was not expecting to open up the news tonight and feel like I’d been kicked in the stomach. I’d barely even thought about Linkin Park in years. They were my brief, embarrassing nu-metal mallgoth phase. They were everyone’s brief, embarrassing nu-metal mallgoth phase. Then they were the band even nu-metal posers made fun of. By that point 15-year-old me had plunged down the rabbit hole and discovered Rammstein, and the Smiths, and the Sisters of Mercy, and KMFDM, and I had so much awesome music to wallow in that I barely had time to feel self-conscious that I’d never really stopped loving Hybrid Theory. (Although I did, a little, because I was 15 and nothing was too stupid to feel self-conscious about.)

But holy fuck did I love that album. “Crawling” is the first music video I have any actual memory of seeing on TV. Linkin Park was the first rock concert I ever went to. (And fuck you, they were awesome.) I loved it for the exact reasons my entire age cohort found it embarrassing as soon as we were out of middle school. It’s a primal scream of rage and anguish, artfully bottled up and beautified, that manages to articulate a lot of the nuances of how people hurt each other and what it’s like to be hurt so badly you can barely hang on. Which means it had its finger squarely on the pulse of what it’s like to be 14. Stuck in a rat cage with a few hundred other rats, all of you hopped up to the gills on hormones, clumsily figuring out all the ways people can hurt each other, how and when to protect yourself, how to judge others’ behavior. And because people learning how to judge get awfully enthusiastic about it and nobody likes the primal anguish or the pants-on-head stupidity of their 14-year-old self, it didn’t take long for us to start finding Linkin Park embarrassing. Their angst is utterly sincere, and sincerity is uncomfortable. Especially when it reminds you of the utterly sincere, solipsistic, overblown, ridiculous angst over trivial shit that your adolescent hormones were pumping through your veins in middle school. Getting over yourself is healthy.

Coming back to listen when I’m pushing thirty, though, nothing on Hybrid Theory makes me think about my mid-teens melodrama. Some of it makes me think about friendships and relationships that turned into the kind of fucked-up shit that makes me want to grab my past self and shout “run while you can.” But most of it–speaking as a grown-ass adult here–most of it makes me think “holy shit, I want to find whoever did that to this kid and kick their ass six ways from Sunday.” It is so fucking unbelievably obvious in retrospect that none of the shit Chester Bennington is screaming about is something you just get over once you’ve grown up a little and escaped the shitheads you went to high school with.

Transmuting pain into art is a natural, almost universal impulse; doing it well is hard. Getting close enough to grab the beating heart of it, pulling it out to dissect it, ruthlessly rearranging it into something with structure and clarity, stepping back far enough to judge what you’ve made… the strange, disconcerting realization that you’ve turned it into something beautiful. Something that will appeal to other people, make them relate it back to their own pain even if it’s not the same. (Something vulnerable that can be criticized and judged and sneered at.) Maybe at first it’s for your own benefit, help you process and understand it, let out a bit of that primal scream… but let me tell you, the first time someone says “thank you” or “I needed this” or “you articulated what I couldn’t” or “this got me through a dark place”… that doesn’t just make it worth it, it humbles the shit out of you. And it makes you want to keep doing it forever. It turns the pain into shared understanding and an offer of comfort.

Unfortunately, it doesn’t make the pain go away.

Chester Bennington was really fucking good at transmuting his pain into art and offering it up with utter sincerity.

So RIP, dude. I don’t know the details of what you were going through, but you gave the world a pretty good glimpse of the broad outlines. And that glimpse got a lot of kids through adolescence, my dumb ass included; I can only imagine what it did for people who were going through the same stuff as you. Life may not be some fairy tale where turning your demons into art is always enough to save you from them, but I wish you’d made it. You saved a lot of other people. Whatever peace eluded you here, you deserve to find on the other side.


there’s a good reason these tables are numbered honey, you just haven’t thought of it yet // panic! at the disco


ease this madness;

it pollutes my mind and

interrupts our dance.


remove this illness;

it is not love and yet it

disguises itself as such.

This is not the glory you are owed.


Walk with me in this darkness

And I beg, bring your torch.

Like Deo I search

for a part of me stolen.


How do you live in those

six months without Him?

Lend me your strength,

your command of self.

I have it not.


Cease this war!

Our efforts will be needed elsewhere;

this is senseless and


Let me champion a more

worthy battle.


My head sees your Truth

but it is muddied and dim.

Shield me from the fog!

If I must wander alone,

at least let the star I follow be true.


Divorce me from this chaos;

this is not the union I was promised.

May your touch dissolve the bond.


Be swift.

Deliver my message with

speed unchecked.

While the Gods above have

eons to spare,

my mortal soul fades with each second.

Son of Maia,

make haste!

For some reason you were meant to be in my life. After all you made me learn my lesson.
—  After all you weren’t worth it // a.s 

…I wonder if that was actually a good decision to make there, Kuroo

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Ranger OOC: Hey so just out of curiosity, why did you have to leave early last time?

Bard OOC: Well, I got a chance to make a deal with a demon, power in exchange for a soul and all that, but… You know how I joked that my heart had calcified into a salty crouton? Yeah, turns out that actually happened, fortunately though the demon likes croutons so now I can control darkness, although I’m short a crouton.

Ranger OOC: Having known you since you were 8, I see no reason to doubt this.

i-am-avacado  asked:

what's a Harpy? like, for harpy!holly

Ripped directly from google:

“a rapacious monster described as having a woman’s head and body and a bird’s wings and claws or depicted as a bird of prey with a woman’s face.” 

These are the most COMMON designs for harpies in video games (usually type A). Theyre half human, half bird, but its always specified that the human part is feminine. theres…ALOT of different ways harpies are used but usually its either theyre extremely beautiful, luring their victims to their death, or theyre seen as scavengers (?). Kinda like really big vultures lmao. i dont think theres any rules for the bird half of the harpy ( although ppl tend to do birds of prey as a reference)

HOWEVER !! Holly is only somewhat inspired by type A. When shes transformed, she is completely covered in feathers and she has a beak which doesnt fit any of these examples. Thats bc I mostly thought of Medli from Wind Waker when I designed her

(The Rito have an item to let them turn their arms into wings and fly at will shhhhhh)

I kinda just mashed a whole bunch of different ideas together lmao

Human form is just human w wings

Transformed is a bird w humanlike features

And the really creepy feral form is kinda like a Type B Harpy mashed w my own design for transformed Holly, but instead of a face, its a skull. And since Holly is fond of plague doctors, I made the skull a crow skull :o

Stop it. Just stop it. Give me back my sanity. I admit I have been crazy about you and it’s not just the simple kind of crazy because it’s always been in the superlative. That’s how I have been crazy about you—the idea of you. You should have peeled off the mask you’ve been wearing because I can and I will, accept it over the fake love you showed. I want to be freed by the truth so now I ask you to show me the real you, the one behind the mask. I am tired of this game called love. Please, quit playing games with my already fragile heart. I am utterly broken, every piece of me is either scattered or missing and I don’t have the energy nor the will to search for them or to pick up them up one by one. I have been blind since the beginning. You’ve shown me the whole universe and you were my gravity who always pulled me to your side despite the countless lies you muttered. How could I resist you? Your words were purely magical and your presence was purely consubstantial with mine. You were my everything and it hurts to know that everything’s been in the past now. I have been living in the world of Alice. I was the princess stuck in the place of fairy tales. You were just a ghost, a phantasm of my own expectations. Your twisted reasons which I clung tightly to made me delusional to the point of insanity. I have invested too much, making you my whole words, no, my whole universe. I have been revolving around someone fictional and is made of paper. They say it’s never wrong to love someone however too much and I now wonder how did I find myself fooled. I even begged you to stay even though I completely knew my words would fall into deaf ears. You kept on ignoring my pleas but I remained patient, hoping against all hope everything would be all right eventually. Love involves risks and sacrifices but I know in myself I don’t deserve your kind of treatment. They’re all too much to bear even for a resilient one like me. I just want to be deemed as worthy to love and yet I now suffer from this cycle called endless pain.
—  c.i.j. // endless pain

I swear this fanfiction gives me so much life. 

Fic- I’ll Protect You link:

flashback to chapter 1! I love this story @lattemika, I hope you update soon!