#you are my brightest star

[foreveryourcinnamonroll]

after all this time- you still and will always be my whole galaxy

you are my brightest star ; you will always guide me home.

[ca-d]

perseids and northern lights?!!?! magical ✨

[queenbeestars]

SO JUST don't touch the dial and stay here a while with me... WOAH!

CLASSIC! ECSTATIC! ITS MAGIC!

TO TRIP THE LIGHT FANTASTIC REPEAT IT AFTER ME...

this is how it should be in studio seats my ego wired in the crt!!

we can skip the sign off ol' familiar scene repeating THIS is how it should be!!

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[naamahdarling]

Her Day:

Fancy spent today:

Watching her Shows

Killing her wirb (worm+bird).

Doing her tricks.

Getting her treats.

[fabfiveunionrep]

donna troy desperately bleeding to paint a heart on her sleeve but never allowing herself to hear its beat

[veir69s]

hide and seek with birthday boy

[tsunael]

wolcred week |  1. 'the first.'

They all knew it was coming. Either their brightest star would claim the last of the Light, or the Light would claim her.

What were they to do but careen to their inevitable deaths? He had sacrificed one lamb for another, and now a third was to be laid upon the butcher's block. How many must die so that another might live?

He would not forget the sight of the woman before him, holding her outstretched hands aloft as the curtain of Light parted one last time to reveal the night sky in all her glory. Menphina smiled down in a smirk of a crescent for their efforts, and just as she had appeared, was the curtain drawn once again.

He didn’t need an aetherometer to see that Tsuna was suffused– the aether was thick, cloying enough to be seen. The ewer of her body failed to contain it, finally splitting at the seams for a means of escape.

Their ascian friend dealt the final blow. The Exarch, in his well-meaning duplicity, left for dead. And then Tsuna slumped to the ground, just as lifeless.

He ought to be angry– furious– for Urianger’s joint deception, for his own empty hands, or for the cards Sister Fate had dealt them time and time again, but the queer feeling roiling within him was not one of anger, but of fear. He stood there, powerless, shaking to his core whilst the twins rushed to Tsuna’s aid alongside Ryne.

Even Minfilia could not wholly extinguish the Light– she could only freeze it in time– and as Ryne sank to her knees beside the supine woman in hopes of doing the same, he could only watch in abject horror.

“Give her room,” he barked, though the twins were undeserving of his ire as he approached. They still took a collective step back.

Brilliant white blood readily trickled from Tsuna’s nose, and by way of her laboured breathing it was evident that she was being torn apart by a force of which a layman could not hope to see. Something within Tsuna was stirring, whether it was brought about by her own will, or by Ryne’s suppression, he couldn’t know.

It began first in her hands as they twitched and grasped for purchase, then her spine as it coiled. Her eyes snapped open, hungry and searching, as she lunged for the Oracle’s throat in hopes of supping upon the wellspring.

Thancred fell to his knees, wrestling the woman onto her back as an inhuman screech tore from her throat. “Don't stop!”  he cried out, harsh with concerted effort. There was an unnatural strength burgeoning within her tiny frame that even as a man grown he struggled to contend with, and if Ryne did not finish the ritual, it would swallow them whole.

Ryne was shaken, but nothing if not determined. The power flowed through her once more, and Tsuna’s struggles came to a head. She thrashed upon the ground against his weight, spitting blood, and gnashing teeth. She would bite her tongue if it kept up-- he could barely hold her steady long enough for Ryne to work in her magicks. 

“In our lifetime, please!” 

"I'm trying!" "Ryne made a frustrated growl of effort as a bead of sweat rolled down her cheek. The very aether about them seemed to compress, tangible enough that even he could feel it become leaden as it coalesced.

Tsuna cried out one last time, waning to a whine as she pushed wildly against his arms, seizing. Her legs writhed as if a sudden, great pain knifed through her. And then all was silent. 

Ryne immediately flagged, catching herself on the marble. Her power had all but been exhausted whilst he held the aftermath limp in his arms. Y’shtola and Urianger had begun to crowd about, to inquire, to plan, to move, but all he could do was hold the small woman in his arms, and pray to the Twelve, unseen, that the Light did not break through once again whilst their last bastion was too weak to hold.

“Ryne,” he called, softly, intently. Apology was writ together in his tone. “Are you all right?”

She nodded, though he knew she waned, looking close to tears from it all.

He swallowed thickly, realising he shared in the sentiment. 

Adjusting Tsuna’s body in his arms, he felt just how cold she had grown. They needed a chirurgeon's assistance, and to get off this Godsforsaken rock, but more than that they needed a miracle. His hands would not stop trembling.

“Ryne, you know that I would not deign to ask a favour of you.” He breathed for a long moment, hanging his head low in penance. “Gods–” He swore. “You have to help her. I– We can’t lose her to this.”

Ryne stared back at him, having caught her breath, eyes wide, and glassy. She was searching him for something he couldn't know.

She opened her mouth, before aborting the question. Finally, she pursed her lips, looking uneasy in a way that only managed to make him feel worse. 

“I’ll do what I can,” she whispered, and he had no choice but to believe.

[chrisbangs]

231003 ♡ Happy Birthday Bang Chan!

[siriuscollar]

In a way, Sirius did manage to outlive them all.

Cursed to stay in the sky, watching everyone he’s ever loved slip through his grasp over and over again. As if the first time wasn’t enough.

And the worst of it? The moon and sun were right nearby.

And yet, being the brightest star in the night sky didn’t safe him from the distance.

Despite everything, his light couldn’t quite reach the moon and the sun. He could not grasp them, he could not grasp everything that remained of them.

Not in space and not, most devastatingly, on earth.

[ashthewaterghoul]

Easily the best thing I’ve ever written.

[wind-up-thancred]

hxh continuing to wreak its havoc on my ship dynamics wolcred week day 3, light | darkness

[bloomingnewwrld]

Siffrin doodles

[littlestkoi-n]

the most average-looking utterly pathetic man and some fucking extraterrestrial personality trapped in a majestic human body

[wildsaltair]

do y’all ever think about how Maximus’ main joys are things that involve creating and nurturing life? he’s a farmer who loves tending crops. he’s a husband who adores his wife and probably wanted to have more children eventually. he’s a father who adores his son and wants to raise him. his leadership techniques are encouragement and kindness. he treasures the lives of family, his men, and even his enemies to a certain degree.

and still, he is constantly expected to kill and destroy simply because he’s good at it. I can imagine he joined the army because, like most young boys, he saw the glory and excitement of it. he’s a natural born killer with his foresight in battle and his ability to size up opponents in an instant. he’s brilliant at what he does.

but. that’s not what makes him rise in the ranks everywhere he goes.

as a soldier, it’s obvious he’s won the respect and loyalty of his men because he is honest, devoted, and caring toward them. he does not cast them into battle as pawns; he rides alongside them and supports them as equals in battle. Marcus wants him to be the next Emperor because he knows Maximus’ nature is not to be power-hungry.

even as a gladiator, it’s his refusal to kill Tigris that really puts him over the top in favor with the people. they love him for his ability to kill, but even more for his choice not to. he befriends his fellow gladiators instead of seeing them as obstacles to his freedom. he treasures the memory of his family by carrying their statues with him everywhere he goes. his last act of killing Commodus is not just to get revenge and set the city to rights — it’s protecting and nurturing the life of a little boy who reminds him of his own son, the grandson of the man he thought of as his own father.

and I just think there’s something so powerful in the way everyone recognizes Maximus’ humility and kindness and mercy just as much as his courage, prowess in battle, ferocity, etc. he stands out because he doesn’t glory in killing, he doesn’t relish in destroying lives. he mourns life lost. he longs to live peacefully and foster life.

how tragic? that it’s people’s obsession with his natural skillset that prevents him from doing what he wants most?? Marcus won’t let him go home, Commodus won’t let him go home, Proximo forces him to kill, the mob loves him when he kills.

and how ironic? that they all recognize his goodness and refuse to let him live accordingly? how ironic that all he wanted to do was be kind and the people who recognized that still forced him to be harsh?

[cloneximio-877]

THIS HOW IT SHOULD BE!

(based on Static by FLAVOR FOLEY)

[radioiaci]

@our-brightest-stars ⧐ Doing this off anon because this is also wild to me, but I believe it was cleared up a WHILE ago that he was only confirmed ace in canon and that his voice actor had misspoke at a panel (this was confirmed by him on Twitter), and this Alastor is basically a beloved well fleshed out OC with canon lightly spinkled for seasoning — HOWEVER The concept of love and romance is a social construct anyway imo, how it's defined, what that means, how that feels like, why or who that might be expressed to — is entirely up to the individual and evolves all the time. Aros don't owe a strict black and white performance of what their identity means to them, and often times won't fit into what's expected anyway. If anon had literally spent ANY TIME reading ANY of the threads, they would have seen Alastor grapple over the nature of what he was feeling and struggle to put a name on it, staunchly avoiding the word "love" because it didn't fit what other "normal" couples did or described ANYWAY As someone who IS aroace, I fucking adore this blog and am always deeply touched how the relationship between what love is described as getting pulled apart and examined with an undertone of dread and yearning, unable to define or understand if what's being felt even IS love or just some �� codependent attachment to the company given by someone to soothe a bone deep loneliness, and only them because they were the only one this far to truly dig deep and try to understand and accept. If that isn't your journey OR your jam exploring your identity, fair enough, but don't gate keep others and try to be the sole arbiter of what is or isn't valid expressing of identity before you punch others in your community Also. This is fiction with a CANNIBALISTIC MURDER DEER DEMON FROM HELL. I dunno what to tell you, but you'd prolly be his next meal if you tried to tell him what he could or couldn't do and with whom Pascall, ilu, and you have the patience of a saint between the trifecta of these bozos, the ones that constantly prod for replies, and push for ships with their characters. What crevice are they even COMING FROM OOC ASKS.

YOU HEARD 'EM. BOZOS, THE LOT OF THEM.